Bat, Dora Blankets and Front Yard

I woke Friday morning at 3:02 to Mike sitting up saying "What was that?"  I immediately assumed someone was breaking in to our house.  With my heart pounding I begged him to turn the lights on.  He quietly reached for what I thought was his gun, but turned on his lamp instead and waited....

He told me he heard something hitting the wall, bumping his lamp shade and knocking behind our bed.  I assumed mouse or raccoon.  Raccoon?  Really Heidi?

I asked Mike to look under our bed as I boogied out of our room.  Once safe on the sofa in the living room with my feet up,  I saw it.  I managed to squeal, "Oh God it's in the living room" as I ducked down and threw a Dora the Explorer blanket over my head. 

Sure enough, we had a bat.

Mike pondered what to hit the bat with while I stayed hidden under Dora on the couch, peeking occasionally to watch the dark brown flying object circle the living room.  That's when it occurred to me. What if it landed on me?  I had to make a run for it.  Don't these things carry rabies?

I suggested Mike grab the baseball bat out of the kids room as I darted back into our bedroom and hid behind the cracked open door.  I watched as Mike in his wife-beater began swinging at the bat in the living room.  On the fourth swing, I heard the thunk as it landed beside the sofa.

Knowing a bat had been in our bedroom, circled our heads and was bumping into the lamp on a nightstand while we slept... lets just say it was tough falling back to sleep after the fact.  With that, I'd like to thank Mike for dealing with the intruder as well as Dora for her protection.  Amen.

Perhaps if I hadn't been woken during a REM cycle, I may have thought to grab my camera, documenting the ordeal for all time.  However, that wasn't in the cards.  Therefore, I'll share photos of our staked-out house instead.  It's a happier thought.  At least to me.

If you look really, really close, squint your eyes and stick out your tongue, you might see a few orange flags above.  I took the photo standing in our front yard.

 

A little closer.  I'm on the driveway, looking toward our house. 

 

This is the view while standing on my front porch.  Hopefully this will make more sense soon.  I wonder if bats live around here...

Skateboard Swing

Last fall I came across a pin on Pinterest (imagine that) that caught my eye.  I did a little research and finally decided to bite the bullet.  I made a skateboard swing. 

Here's how I did it.
1.  Found Ross' old skateboard in the garage.
2.  Removed the wheels.
3.  Drilled 4 holes wide enough for a 3/8-inch rope to thread through the skateboard.
4.  Tied a knot above each hole to secure rope in place.
5.  Drilled holes through 2 wooden dowels and threaded the rope through.
6.  Tied a knot below each dowel to hold dowels in place for handles. 
7.  Climbed a tall ladder and hung the swing on a thick branch just as a storm rolled in.

 

 

 

 

Optional: swinging on the skateboard swing while singing 'Let It Go' can be very liberating.  Maisie mastered the technique immediately.

 

 

 Side note: after hanging the swing, Maisie later sat in a slice of pizza leaving a triangular shaped grease stain on her maxi dress.  I treated the stain, washed the dress and without thinking, dried it.  Unfortunately, the stain remained.  Pinterest advised me to rub dish soap into the stain and rewash. 

Worked like a charm.

Last Day of Kindergarten

Today marked the last day of kindergarten for Sugar Plum.

Below is her first day...

And now we have a few photos of her last day...

 

Apparently without the hitching post to stand by, she took it upon herself to pose in other natural positions.

 

And to clarify; yes, she wore the exact same shirt as she did the first day of school. 

 

I think Molly has mixed feelings about school being out. 

 

Just kidding. 

These two have been counting down the days for summer to start. 

Maxi Dress

Maxi dresses have been all the rage around 411 E. Washington.  Ironically, finding one smaller than size 7 has become nothing short of a wild goose chase.  Luckily, we found a style that came in size 7, yet fit Maisie with some alterations (thank you Grandma Boyd).  Therefore, it came as no surprise when Molly announced she too needed a maxi dress.  I'm pretty sure maxi dresses don't come in size 3's due to a safety hazard, however Molly can be awful cute when she wants something and finds a way to justify it. 

 

Lucky for us, Grandma Boyd owns a sewing machine.  Lucky for us, Grandma Boyd is retired.  Lucky for us, Grandma Boyd is wrapped around Molly's finger. 

 

Therefore, Grandma Boyd took Molly shopping for fabric to make her very own maxi dress.  Turns out Molly spotted the fabric immediately.  Grandma tried showing her all kinds of other patterns, but Molly insisted on her first selection and proceeded to carry the bolt of fabric under her arm until the purchase was made. 

 

Grandma Boyd and Molly have developed a pretty tight bond.  Since last August, Grandma shows up 3 days a week to play with Molly while I go running.  As much of a gift it's been to me, I'm confident the two of them have found the true treasure of that gift. 

 

The below photos showcase Molly's new maxi.

 

Meanwhile, stay tuned for photo's of our staked out house, a skateboard swing I built and hung Sunday, as well as an update on Ross as he just told me he discovered an unopened Lunchable at the City Park and ate it...

Guilty

Found a headless dead bird in the yard....

I don't want to blow his cover, but someone looks guilty.

Dance Rebellion

Maisie's been in ballet since fall.  The recital is approaching.  I received a copy of the pre-recital itinerary 2 days ago.  I'm still processing it as apparently, I'm waaayyy out of the loop.

 

Let me begin by saying a dance costume isn't cheap (which will be worn once).  Tights aren't cheap (a pair without holes needed to be purchased before the recital).  Turns out there's a 'recital fee' to cover the cost of the auditorium as well as a photographer.  Oh, and I was handed another form for purchasing individual and class photos.  As a bonus, if I spend over $25 on photos I'd be emailed a high resolution photo of Maisie in her ballet costume to treasure until the end of time.  I'm questioning why I'm lacking the intensity of the ordeal as other mom's were talking excitedly about the recital at library school, other mom's were busy primping their daughters before photos as though it was their wedding day, other mom's were talking about the proper way to 'hang' costumes for the maximum amount of tulle fluffage, while another mom was busy applying bronzer to her 3-year-old because she looked 'too pale'.

Then there's Maisie's mom.

 

I rebelled (aka ran out of money for 6-year-old ballet expenses) and took my own photos of Maisie in our front yard.  Maisie still needed to be at the dance studio for the  'class photo' during which time my other 2 kids acted like wild hyenas causing a ridiculous scene in front of the other parents while Molly depanced me twice.  Pants or no pants, I eventually I threw my hands up in the air and figured if my kids were obnoxious enough, the photographer just might work faster to get us out of there. 

 

With that off my chest, I know one thing for sure.  The photos I captured in front of an evergreen tree are pictures that wouldn't exist had she been standing in front of a white drop cloth, hands awkwardly posed with a fake smile and weird chin tilt on her face.  Meanwhile, I have no doubt these shots will be treasured until the end of time. 

 

And of course, Moo was not to be forgotten in Maisie's old gymnastics leotard...

 

 

 

 

God love her.

Ready

While tucking the kids into bed, Molly and I had the following conversation.

Mom, do you love Ross?
Of course I do.
Why?
Because he's responsible, smart, funny, good, respectful and kind.
Kind of what?

She later said something rude to which I asked where her manners were.  She responded matter-of-factly,  "In my body".

The girls have been 'buddy-buddy' lately.  They often snuggle-buggle before bedtime.

 

And below is when they realized I was taking their picture.

Have I mentioned I love Wednesdays?  School doesn't start until 9:00 on Wednesdays.  It's the perfect mid-week break.  We took advantage of the late start morning, gorgeous weather and the fact that we have a sidewalk to play on.

 

And, below is Molly photo bombing the background wearing a gymnastics leotard with underwear hanging out the sides before school this morning. 

I've learned how to crop.

Molly going with the Shawn Johnson look this morning.

Maisie insisted on holding the chalk to her face for this photo. 

Ross wouldn't smile normally for me. Therefore, I was forced to make snorting laugh sounds to get a real smile out of him.  Pretty sure he finally smiled to make me stop before any neighbor kids came outside.

 

I don't know if it's the humidity level, the sweet fragrance of spring in the air, the endless blue sky, the warm breeze... or perhaps the fact that this is the first summer since I've had kids that I don't have to mention the word 'daycare'. 

 

Dear Summer Break,

Bring it on.  I'm ready for you.

Sincerely,

East-Side-Mama

 

 

Another 4 Holes

After finding 4 baby kittens last week, I called the vet.  The vet advised me on the proper care of orphaned kittens.  The directions were simple, keep them warm, keep them fed, keep them clean, help them pee and poop.  The last thing the vet said was, "if you can keep them alive, your doing good".

What the vet didn't mention...

Within a week my son would be attached to each one.
That I'd be moving them from formula to solid food, just like a human baby.
That if I gave them a litter box, they'd start using it instinctively.
That we'd soon learn to identify each kittens unique meow and cry.
And also...
That the odds of abandoned kittens surviving without a mama cat weren't great.
That if one kitten dies, the odds of the others surviving are even worse.
That each of our kittens would die within 36 hours of each other, making the process extra tough on an 8 year old little boy.
That I'd keep my little boy home from school so he could hold each one as they quietly passed from this life to their next.
That my little boy would bury each of his kittens in the flower bed behind the house as I watched tears falling down his cheeks.
That watching my little boy lose 4 pets in 36 hours would be as heartbreaking as it was.
That my son has an incredible level of faith, respect for Mother Nature and the reality of life. 

Looking back, I sometimes wonder if it'd be easier had we not found the kittens.  I could have sheltered my children from the loss they would eventually experience.  That thought is quickly dismissed as I realize Mother Nature taught my children a lesson I could not have done on my own.  And for that, we are truly blessed.

1st Runner Up

  It's official.  I'm second place.  First runner up in beauty pageant terms.  I've been suspicious of my status since August and I've realized my hunch was right.  Sure, the winner is glamorous, smart, funny, wears big earrings, is kind, generous, and according to Maisie looks like a model.  Maisie actually told me she wants to marry her.  Meanwhile, I try my hardest not to act jealous when Maisie constantly tells me how amazing her teacher is. 

I'm thrilled my daughter is in love with her teacher.  I'm thrilled her teacher has given her the strongest educational foundation I could ever ask for.  I'm thrilled she's become Maisie's role model and someone she perceives to be perfect in every way.  As thrilled as I am, I'm still jealous.  But I'm getting over it.  Really.

 

Maisie would play school from morning until night if she didn't get to go to school during the day.  She writes 'morning messages' and signs them, 'Love Mrs. Hall.'  She didn't want to see the neighbors new cat because she preferred to stay home and play school instead.  (Either that, or she's seen her share of kittens lately).  Watching her mimic her favorite teacher (and probably person) in the whole world, makes it obvious what a gem this woman truly is. 

 

That's why under my first-runner-up crown, I have nothing but gratitude for the woman my daughter calls Mrs. Hall.

 

 

 

 

She was only missing one thing.  Students.  Luckily the Barbies haven't had dates with Ken lately.  His head fell off and is currently missing.

I didn't notice it at the time, but it appears one student must have been misbehaving.

Abandoned

Last week our neighbor watched as 4 kittens were abandoned  not far from our house.  Of course we checked it out and sure enough, 4 kittens a couple weeks old, eyes open, shaking and crying for their mama (at least that's what my maternal instincts told me) were huddled together under a lilac bush.  Needless to say, our kids acted as the animal rescue league.  The orphans were named;  Oreo, Tiger, Midnight and Silver.  They were starving.  As a mom, there's no worse feeling than knowing babies are starving.  We tried a cup of milk, but it was apparent they needed a nipple.  Sorry kitties, I can only go so far.  

 

Medicine droppers appeared and I was soon feeding the kittens.  We lined a box with old towels and tucked squeaking kitties into the garage for the night.  As morning approached, I nervously checked to see whether they survived the night or developed  diarrhea from the cow milk.  With much relief, I found the box clean and the kittens alive.  

 

We think we've found a home for the kittens where they'll be well cared for.  In the meantime, we will tend to them.  It's been interesting.  For one, they need to be fed every 2 hours.  I caved and bought kitten formula from the vet as I don't personally know any lactating cats.   Secondly, turns out kittens can't pee or poop without their genitals and anal glans being stimulated.  Say what?  Well, lets just say this mama's got the magic touch as I get each one to pee after each feeding and 3 of them to poop through anal gland stimuli.  Perhaps I missed my calling.

Feeding Tiger before I figured out they prefer to be held by their scruff for feeding.  Just as their mama would carry them.

Kitty formula.  I must be a sucker.

Apparently all kittens are born with baby blues. 

This is Oreo.  He's one of the stronger ones.

Silver is the other strong one.

We're not sure about Midnight.  He struggles with his "latch"  I told Ross that God made Midnight's body a little different from the rest.  Ross responded compassionately, "So, he's like special ed?"

 

Carrying for baby kittens certainly isn't how I envisioned spending Mother's Day weekend.  However, the message I hope this experience teaches my kids is priceless.

 

 

Once upon a time, there was an old man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach every morning before he began his work. Early one morning, he was walking along the shore after a big storm had passed and found the vast beach littered with starfish as far as the eye could see, stretching in both directions. 

Off in the distance, the old man noticed a small boy approaching.  As the boy walked, he paused every so often and as he grew closer, the man could see that he was occasionally bending down to pick up an object and throw it into the sea.  The boy came closer still and the man called out, “Good morning!  May I ask what it is that you are doing?”
The young boy paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean. The tide has washed them up onto the beach and they can’t return to the sea by themselves,” the youth replied. “When the sun gets high, they will die, unless I throw them back into the water.”
The old man replied, “But there must be tens of thousands of starfish on this beach. I’m afraid you won’t really be able to make much of a difference.”

The boy bent down, picked up yet another starfish and threw it as far as he could into the ocean. Then he turned, smiled and said, “It made a difference to that one!”

 

Through Her Eyes

beau-ty noun. byü-tē -the qualities in a person or a thing that give pleasure to the senses or the mind.

The assignment was simple.  As Molly rode her bike, she was to  photograph anything she found beautiful.  That got me thinking.  Who are we to decide what makes something beautiful?  Beautiful; according to who?  I watched as Molly captured the images she found beautiful, through her eyes.

It soon became obvious we'd be stopping to smell the flowers along the way.

 

Her first picture was of her bike basket.  It carries some of her most favorite things.  Library movies, night-nights, Barbies, baby dolls and flowers.

 

 

Her second shot was a red tulip growing amongst the lily-of-the-valley. 

 

A yard saturated with violets caught her eye next.  She and I often pick violets to put in our hair.  So of course she found this yard beautiful. 

Next up was this goose.  It reminded me of how Grandma and Grandpa Claussen had a set of stone piglets in their landscaping and how fascinated I was with them.

 

Molly and I have been obsessed with purple trees this spring.  I wasn't surprised when she stopped to capture this one.

 

I don't know what this flower is called, but it's purple, pretty, big, and Molly likes it.

 

 

She really wanted a photo of this porch.  I tried to talk her out of it, but she insisted.  

 

I couldn't be happier that she sees beauty in everyday, mundane things.  She finds dandelions and creeping Charlie to be just as miraculous as tulips and lilacs.  And I love that about her.

 

Simple things we take for granted each and every day... some of which we spray to get rid of.

 

 

 

During the assignment, she asked to take a photo of me.  At first I refused.  I wasn't wearing a lick of make-up, I hadn't showered and I was wearing a shirt with a husky dog on it.  Enough said.  I looked terrible.  Seriously, I'm in a dog shirt.  Then it occurred to me. 

 

I'm her mom.  This is what her mom looks like.  This is how she sees me and she doesn't think I look terrible without make-up while wearing a dog shirt.  She doesn't see the sun spots, the wrinkles and messy hair as a bad thing.  To her, I just look like mom. 

 

 

The image I have of my mom is not one where she's dressed up with hair and make-up complete.  It's the image of her without make-up, hair barely brushed, peeling potatoes wearing chic jeans and a stained Strawberry Fest shirt.  I've come to realize that's what 'moms' look like.  I never questioned whether my mom was beautiful, she just always was and always will be.  A mom is a safe place with warm eyes and soft skin, a soothing voice and a sweet scent. 

And I think that's what makes a mom beautiful afterall. 

 

 

 

However, the most beautiful thing I witnessed this day was a little girl in a sparkly dance costume squatting down in the grass with a Nikon D7000 camera to take a picture of a dandelion.