We Got Worms!- My Messy Beautiful

"Pinworms?!?" I asked, totally skeptical.

"Yeah, pinworms. My mom and I saw a program on TV about them. Apparently, an itchy heiny is one of the symptoms," said my friend, Sarah.

I'd been complaining to her about waking up five times that night by my 3.5 year old, who had an itchy heiny, and my 18 month old who had an upset stomach. 

I immediately googled "pinworms in children" and uttered a low, guttural "uuhhhmyyyygaaawwwd...."

I read to Sarah, "Umm... according to webmd... Most people get pinworms by swallowing the worms' eggs. This happens when someone with pinworms scratches around the anus, gets eggs on his or her hands (or under the fingernails), and touches you or a surface that you later touch."

"EWWW!" she screamed.

"Oh, it gets worse--When eggs get on your hands or food and then you eat, the eggs go into your mouth. And they move into your stomach and then to your rectal area. So Henry ATE pinworm eggs? Oh, no, Sarah. OOOOOOhhh nooooooo."

"What?!?" she asked.

"'THE EGGS TURN INTO WORMS IN ABOUT A MONTH! A PINWORM CRAWLS OUT OF THE BODY AT NIGHT AND LAYS EGGS ON THE SKIN AROUND THE ANUS. THE WIGGLING MOTION IS WHEN THE WORM LAYS EGGS, WHICH MAY IRRITATE THE SKIN AND CAUSE ITCHING!!!"

Needless to say, we both screamed, and I hung up to call the pediatrician, but not before texting my Monkee friend, Hollis, an emergency text:

Then, I did what any mom would do. I got in the shower and cried. And I scrubbed myself harder than that time in college when a frat guy threw me in a mud pit filled with mud, beer, vomit, and God knows what else (I don't want to talk about it). 

It was straight out of The Crying Game. Or Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, whichever one you're more familiar.

I wish I could say that this is where the story ends. Henry got worms, we got the medicine-- WAHOO! My messy beautiful! 

False. False, my friend. You should sit down. 

The next day, I took my two viral cesspools to the doctor. First up was Palmer. Palmer had been waking up for the past two nights with icky poopy diapers. Like, seeping out the diaper, all over the sheets blowouts. It was like something out of a crime scene, only instead of blood, there was poop everywhere.

The doctor took one look at him and diagnosed norovirus. According to the CDC,  "you can become infected with norovirus by accidentally getting stool or vomit from infected people in your mouth." 

Are you seeing a pattern here? Because I am...

Next up was Henry. She examined his heiny and gasped at how red it was. (Let the record show, that this is not the first time I've surprised the pediatrician, and it's bound not to be the last).

"Now this, I'm not sure about" she said in her Polish accent, which is not what you want to hear from a pediatrician, fancy accent or not. "We'd better test for pinworms and strep."

SKkkkkkkkkkkkkrt. 

"Excuse me? Strep?" I asked.

"Yes, strep" she said as if I'd just asked her who the cutest New Kids on the Block member is. (I mean, Joey, obviously.)

"I don't...I mean...how do you...?"

"It's strep. Just not in the throat" she replied. "We're going to have to test for both. The lab will let you know in a couple of days what the results are." She handed me a clear plastic tube with a sticky spatula inside it. "The nurse will explain how to harvest the eggs"

I'm not kidding you, people, my jaw dropped. Tears formed in my eyes. The nurse's mouth was moving, but all I heard was 

"At night [Charlie Brown's teacher's voice]
 Flashlight [plane landing]
Spatula on the anus [pin drop]"

I mean... what. just. happened? Norovirus? Strep butt? HARVESTING PINWORMS?

I swear I'm going to reel this story in here in just a minute, but first Ryan and I decided the soundtrack for this portion of our life would best be depicted with "We Only Come Out at Night" by Smashing Pumpkins playing in the background, so if you would be so kind.

Since I had no idea what I was supposed to do with the sticky spatula thingy, I gizoogled it rather than googled it because I felt like if anything could lighten the mood, a little gizoogle could.  According to gizoogle, I needed to:

• Big up tha instructions given wit tha slide. Collect tha sample at night afta yo' lil pimp has been asleep fo' a minute or first thang up in tha mornin when yo' lil pimp wakes up. This is when tha pinworms is most active.
• Don't bathe yo' lil pimp tha night you collect tha sample.
• Take tha slide ta tha lab. Yo crazy-ass childz doctorz crib will call you wit tha thangs up in dis biatch.

SO, I figured that's why I needed the flashlight. I googled pinworm images to know what I was looking for and--STOP. Stop. Don't google it. Trust me. You don't want to see this. I am never going to look at orzo pasta the same. 

Anyways, I'm not going to go into too much detail on what happened next, but let's just say that it involved splitting my oldest son's cheeks apart whilst holding a flashlight in my mouth and pressing a sticky wand on his heiny. 

And here's the kicker. I did it all for nothing because SURPRISE!!! Henry had strep butt the whole time, not pinworms. Joke's on you, mom!

I'm not going to lie, I was NOT going to participate in this because I couldn't see the beautiful in this mess, but fast forward to Palm Sunday. 

Ryan and I finally got ourselves to church since our children had exorcised their respective demons. We were enjoying a quiet moment for once (because you KNOW our kids were in the nursery) and my pastor said something that struck me. He said our hour of glory was when Christ was on the cross dying for our sins because of what came after his death. Without the death, there could have been no resurrection. 

It made me realize, that if my life were not messy, I wouldn't see the beautiful. If my kids were healthy all of the time, I wouldn't appreciate their health. I have friends whose children are diagnosed with severe illnesses. Hollis's own nephew just had major surgery and can't walk for months. And here I am kvetching about my kids when some of my friends are desperately trying to have them. Reading some of the Messy Beautiful stories about childless mothers is enough to make me want to shut the front door.

We are all entitled to have moments when we just can't take it anymore, but the more experienced I get at life, the more I realize that it's the moments that bring us to our knees (like digging for pinworms) that make us appreciate the moments that make us jump for joy all the more. It's because of the mess that we can appreciate the beautiful.

But I'm still getting a maid.

This essay and I are part of the Messy, Beautiful Warrior Project — To learn more and join us, CLICK HERE! And to learn about the New York Times Bestselling Memoir Carry On Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life, just released in paperback, CLICK HERE!

I'm Back!

For now. Can't tell you how long I'm staying either.

I've had a few people ask me what I'm up to these days. Sit down. Grab a cup of coffee. Here's a typical day in my life.

12 to 5 am- Am woken up at least twice by Palmer/Henry/George/Gus.

7 am-(on a good day. Earlier on a bad day)- Drag myself out of bed to grab Henry and/or Palmer. Make breakfast and spoon feed each child something healthy so Eggo pancakes aren't the only thing they consume. Coffee. Feed self. Clean up mess.

8 am- morning chores (start laundry, unload dishwasher, make beds, pick up toys). This process is never quick or easy. I'm interupted every 5-10 minutes for anything from a diaper change to breaking up a fight over toys. Yes, it's already started.

9 am- get kids ready to get out of the house. I don't always know where I'm going, but I know it when I get there. Usual suspects are the pediatrician's office, playground, play date, grocery shopping, gym, and/or library. Getting ready before kids involved a nice shower with scented shower gel. Blowing my hair dry. Make-up. Perfume. Sometimes ironing my outfit. Now? Tears are involved in getting ready. Mostly Henry and Palmer's, but sometimes mine too. I can't find Henry's other Croc. I can't find Blue Truck. I will not let Palmer play in the toilet. I won't let Henry wear his astronaut costume. I won't let Palmer climb the stairs. I look fat. Still. And I definitely didn't get a shower.

10 am- breathe sigh of relief because we are going somewhere! And then we get there and it's chaos.

11 am- Panic at the disco/pediatrician's office/playground/playdate/grocery store/gym/library. Because: children.

12 pm- Lunch. See breakfast.

1 pm- Nap time. The big misconception about nap time is that it is some three hour long period where responsibility doesn't exist. False. First of all, only recently have I been able to get both kids down at the same time. Even then, it's a small window of overlap. What do I choose to do with that time? Depends. I lie down for 20 minutes. OR I read a book for 20 minutes OR I shower. Usually, I lie down. Because: children.

2 to 4pm- Palmer is usually up by 2, so it's time to take George out and get the mail. Switch washer to dryer. Prep for dinner. Pick up toys. Pay a few bills. Write a few thank you notes. Try to find the bottom of my dining room table. Try to entertain Palmer who is boooooored without Henry.

4 pm- Henry wakes up around this time. He is cranky when he wakes up, so I put him in front of the TV and wait for the storm to pass. Try to keep Palmer off the stairs since our babygate is broken.

4:30 pm- Storm has passed. Henry wants to do something as does Palmer, who is tired of being cooped up inside. So we take a walk or go to a close playground and take George too. OR I have to make an emergency run to Giant for some dinner ingredient I don't have or get beer. Usually it's beer.

5 pm- Try to get dinner started. I don't usually get very far. I usually hit a wall around this time and give up, turn on NickToons, crack open a beer and wait until Ryan gets home. It's not peaceful, though. There are diaper changes, potty trips, snack requests, phone calls, and fights.

6 pm- Ryan comes home. Cue the confetti. He either takes the kids and lets me fix dinner or I continue keeping the peace while he makes dinner. Usually the latter.

6:30 pm- Dinner. Same as breakfast and lunch, minus the coffee. Feed dog.

7 pm- Palmer goes to bed. Start to see the light. The end is near. I clean up the remains of dinner, start the dishwasher, take George out, clean up for 15 minutes (no more, no less). Grab our waters. Feed cat.

8 pm- FINALLY. Finally. I have some time to myself. If I'm feeling charitable, I fold laundry. I don't feel charitable often. I get into my PJs. I read some blogs. I check the weather. I pin some shit. I check instagram.

8:30 pm- Ryan emerges from Henry's room. FINALLY. We watch a show in bed. We don't talk. We just lie there.

9:30 pm- Oh, hey there. Catch up for a minute before digging into our books.

10:30 pm- Lights out, baby.

So why am I telling you about my day?

Because I've had more than a few comments lately about how *nice* it must be to be a stay at home mom. The comments are never overtly rude, just things like, "it must be so nice to be able to do what you want during the day!" Something along those lines. And when there's a need to go above and beyond on a project for a committee or preschool or church or whatever, I feel the pointed eyes go straight to me because I *Have All This Time On My Hands*. Please don't misinterpret my likes of  facebook/instagram photos as evidence of my ample time. Five minute pockets of time here and there while I'm in line or waiting at a traffic light do not mean I have time to knit a sweater or hand-make all my Christmas cards.

I'm not trying to start a debate about stay at home moms versus working moms or moms versus working women or whatever. My point is that everyone is busy. Everyone is trying the best she can. The single girl who lives across the street from me? She's busy. The checkout lady at Giant? She's busy too. I'll say it again, *everyone is busy*. Moms at home? No different.

That's my story. Blogging is something I really do enjoy, but I'm having a hard time fitting into my life because even while I've written this, I've let a lot of other things around me go that I probably should be doing instead. Henry is up and asking me for a snack. Palmer is now putting a screw from the broken baby gate into his mouth.

What are your thoughts on time? Or people's false perceptions of your life? I'm interested. I know it's not just me.

5 Effective Tips to Enjoying a Safe and Healthy Summer Vacation

Well, it's coming. No, I don't mean the inevitable feud between Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift. I mean Memorial Day weekend. If you're traveling with kids this weekend, you may remember my post on how not to lose your mind. Well, Kendra Thornton is here with some tips as well. If there's anyone who would know how to travel, it's her. She was the former Director of Communications for Orbitz and has been to 28 countries, so, yeah. She's legit. Be sure to follow her on twitter (@KendraThornton) and check her out at http://www.thorntonpr.com/ Thanks, Kendra!

5 Effective Tips to Enjoying a Safe and Healthy Summer Vacation

Every time I have gone on summer vacation with my family, I have ended up returning from the vacation learning a new lesson.  With each new lesson I have learned, I have been able to incorporate this new knowledge into future trips to make them go much more smoothly!  

It can be a big deal to make sure all the T’s are crossed and all the I’s are dotted when a family vacation rolls around.  Following a few tips can help children transition into healthy behaviors to make the trip more pleasant.  

1. Tip: Do a thorough check of the hotel you will be staying in. If you are getting a really low rate, it is okay to be suspicious.  Many low-rate hotels cater to college crowds that stay up late at night and party.  This can make it difficult for your family to get a good night’s rest before going to a theme park.  Walt Disney World resorts and Orlando hotels are well-known for offering peaceful rooms with security that enforces reasonable curfews.

2. Tip: Because it is important for children to get a good night sleep, be sure to pack along a child’s favorite sleeping stuffed animal or blanket.  These familiar surroundings may be the very thing that lures a child into a peaceful sleep during vacation time.

3. Tip: If you will be driving extensively, packing healthy snacks can keep your family filled with good nutrition.  This can reduce hunger cravings and also reduce sugar rushes that encourage hyper behavior – which can be very difficult in a car!  An article on Reader’s Digest suggests dried fruit, oatmeal cookies and fruit as healthy travel snacks.

4. Tip: Keep a close eye on children when you go to a theme park or water park.  Children can easily get separated from their parents in large crowds.  Go over rules with your kids and make sure they stay within eyesight of you.

5. Tip: Encourage your children to draw on sketchpads while they are relaxing in a hotel or when they are at an airport.  This is a great way to keep them occupied and stimulated to give you some refreshing downtime! I love having my children pack their own little canvas of toys for the car or a backpack of a few items they personally wanted to pack to keep them happy on the road or in the air!

Try not to overthink planning your vacation to the point where you no longer are having fun!  Taking time to prepare for the vacation in advance will help to relieve stress and give you confidence.

For Mom

I am going to post on my night at the Ritz... amazing. In honor of Mother's Day tomorrow, I thought I'd share with you a snippet from my mom's gift from her three kids.

Tomorrow, my mom will celebrate her 32nd Mother's Day, so my brothers and I wrote 32 memories we have or lessons we learned from Mom. We divided it up, so Joe and I each wrote 11 and Jesse wrote 10, and put our memories/lessons in envelopes and tied them up with a ribbon. I can't wait to see her reaction at brunch tomorrow.

If I am on the ball, I'll update this post with a picture of it, but if I'm busy with The Children, you'll just have to settle for one of my memories:

One memory that stands out for me is from my junior year of high school. We had gone to Ohio after Paw-Paw had passed away and I’d found a tanning lamp in the basement… Oh my God. I just perched in front of it, waiting to feel tan like you do when you are on the beach. Imagine my surprise when I burnt the shit out of myself. My face was PURPLE for days. What was perhaps worse was when it came time to go back to school, my face was peeling. Peeling like a snake’s skin. Peeling like I had leprosy. Peeling like I had frosted flakes coming off my face. I went to school, not with a bad hair day, but with a bad face day. I snuck into chorus, my first class of the day, and I felt like everyone was looking at me. I felt sooo ugly and I didn’t want anyone to see me. I hid in the bathroom during break and called you from the pay phone at the front of the school to come and get me.

Some parents may have wanted to teach their kids a lesson about vanity. Some may have said they were too busy. You dropped what you were doing and came and got me.  I cried in the car all the way home. When we got back, I busied myself with exfoliating the shit out of my face. My skin was pink and raw and my eyes were puffy and burning from crying and you let me go take a nap.

What stood out to me was that A) facial tanning lamps are the devil B) you will always be there and scoop me up when I need you. Even though I was a brat in high school. And college. And off and on, well, all the time.

I Can't Stop Smiling

I know I've been MIA for a while, but for good reason. There comes a time in my house when the homeostasis has been so thrown off I must attend to matters at hand. Very serious business. Think BioDome. 

Homeostasis = Biodome, get it? Sigh.

Yes, there comes a time when I must attend to the laundry. And clear out the fridge. And bathe the children once a month. If not, Ryan begins to talk nonsense about firing me. Whatever that means. 

Anyways, I am taking time out from the very important task of sorting socks to tell you that I can't stop smiling. Let me rewind. Once upon a time, I said that all I wanted for my birthday was a full night of sleep. (For the record, it's been over a year and a half since I've had a night of sleep thanks to pregnancy and Palmer). Palmer is STILL waking up 4+ times a night, so I am borderline psychotic. My apologies to everyone who knows me. 

A few weeks ago I officially turned 30 something. When asked what I wanted for my birthday, I jokingly said a full night of sleep. Well, Ryan and my parents got together and decided to be awesome. I mean, CRAZY awesome. They booked me a night at the Ritz and a spa package. Ummm... not kidding. I just got off the phone booking my massage, facial, and manicure. AHHHH!!! Here are a few pics of what I'm going to experience this weekend:

Hey, Chair. Watch out.
You're about to get served.
I'm going to read on you so hard you won't know what hit you.

If it were my house, I'd think that were poop right there.
But since it's the Ritz, I know I'm going to have stones on me. Not poop.

And you know I'm drinking champagne during my bath.

Damn straight, I'm jumping on the bed in a Ritz-Carlton robe.

Because I am a planner, I have already mapped out some to-dos before I go. One important task is to go to Total Wine and find an awesome bottle of champagne. I will also pack some comfy socks, pajama pants, three half-read books I've been meaning to get finish, and Working Girl because it's my favorite movie.

I've even created a to-do list for when I get there:

It's a tough list. Not sure I'll be able to get it all done.

It's a good thing I booked a facial because these smile lines are deep. 

It's a Good Thing They Are Cute

It makes cleaning up graham crackers almost fun.

Henry Still Plays Soccer

... like a quadriplegic.

Bending it like Bekham.