Tuesday Tip: A Pull Up is NOT a Swimmie



A few weeks ago we were headed to "opening day" at our pool.  I pulled the beach towels out of the basement, located swim suits and swim shirts that still fit the kids and checked the sunblock for expiration dates.  We seemed to be in pretty good shape until I realized we didn't have any swimmies (a.k.a. swim diapers, water pants, you get the idea) for the triplets. 

I decided we had two choices -- let them go bare bottom, which seemed reasonable enough given that they are 2 1/2 and dabbling in potty training OR put them in pull-ups given that they are just dabbling in potty training and it would be poor form to provide a pool-clearing "floater" or two (or three!) on opening day.  Our choices sparked an interesting conversation between me and Des, a real introspective of the type you might expect to see on 60 Minutes or 20/20.

"What's the difference between a Pull Up and a Swimmie?"  "Is it just the packaging and clever marketing?"  "Are those CPG giants P&G and Kimberly-Clarke out to get us yet again?  Convincing us that we need day diapers and night diapers and pull ups AND swimmies?!"  "Yep.  It's a conspiracy.  They are just preying on the vulnerability of parenthood and have tricked us into thinking we need all this stuff."  "Well, not us!  Screw it!  This summer we're not buying those Swimmies!  At $10 a pack, we'll be bankrupt by Labor Day anyway.  Little guys, go for it... put on your pull ups and hit the pool!"  And so they did.  And this is what happened:

Close up of exploding post-swim swimmie

It may be hard to fully appreciate the impact of the water-logged pull up; this picture doesn't quite do justice to the fluid-filled interior that erupted up and out of the little guys swimsuits, leaving an almost snowy-like trail from the kiddie pool back to our chairs.  As they waddled by, weighted down, confused and embarassed, onlookers couldn't help but laugh.  Ok, I couldn't help but laugh myself.  In fact, Des and I almost wet our pants we were laughing so hard.  The poor little fellas didn't think it was funny though...

"It's not funny.  Could you just buy me some Swimmies?!"

The morale of the story?  There is indeed a difference between a pull-up and a swimmie and good corporate citizens and reasonably competent parents will indulge their children with both! 

Summer Concert at the Lyons Den

Tonight was another one of those nights. I left work a few minutes early so I would be home for an important call at 5:30.  I walked in to the typical throngs of little ones looking for an uppie and chattering about their day.  Unfortunately, I promptly dismissed them, ignored their chatter and hid in the bathroom until my call was over at 5:45.  I then reentered the kitchen, kissed them all hello and acted like it was normal to have a mom who is hiding in the bathroom one minute and all love and kisses the next.  My fleeting attention was not lost on them as an unusual evening unfolded.


I had just gotten dinner on the table at 6:00 (gotta love leftover night!) when a few of our neighbors started to filter into the yard.  Then a few more.  "We're here for the concert," they announced.  I had to admit that I had no clue what they were talking about.  Then a few more filtered in.  Then I noticed about ten sippy cups full of water lined up by our back gate and a blue bucket newly and neatly labeled in Liam's handwriting "Money."  I excused myself to go back into the kitchen and ask my five mischievous kids what was brewing.  They erupted into an excited explanation -- "We're having a concert!" "I play drums!" "We made tickets!" "They gave us dollars!" "Gonna sing songs!" "Is dinner over?!"  And so it was that I learned that in the brief window between the last day of school and first day of camp, my five tykes turned into both budding performers and junior extortionists.  


Unsure of how to proceed, I decided that the show must go on.  Dinner could wait.  None of us wanted to disappoint the gathering crowd, each of whom had apparently paid a dollar and was now holding a sippy cup of water.  One of them was wise enough to remark to another "You might not want to drink this, I think it might have come from the hose earlier today."  As Ciara circulated and made sure everyone had "refreshments", Liam was collecting more money while the triplets tottered to and fro.  With an authoritative bang on a pre-school sized drum, the "concert" began -- a cacophony of percussions that included that drum, some maracas, some bells and a good old-fashioned spoon on a Lego box.  It was just the type of "concert" you'd expect from a junior set quintet; it was more noise than music and I was kind of horrified that they had charged folks for the experience.


Don't get me wrong, I would have made them return those dollars even if the performance had been stellar but, I think the kids have a few lessons to learn from their performance art endeavors...

1. Don't take money from friends and neighbors.
2. Practice makes perfect.  
3. Water does not a refreshment make.
4. A mom that hides in the bathroom instead of saying hello when she gets home from work isn't all bad.

In fact, that very same Mom might let you leave your dinner on the table, chuckle at your concert, and then offer up a stroll to town for ice cream.  All because these days between school and camp and summer days in general are far too fleeting and deserve to be enjoyed.  God only knows what tomorrow will bring but for now, I think I've nipped my petite extortionists in the bud. I'd keep your dollars in your pocket though, just to be sure... 

Last Day of School

I'm not proud to admit it but I woke up this morning with tears in my eyes.  In fairness, there were several possible causes -- severe allergies, which i do indeed have and severe sleep deprivation, which I do indeed suffer from! While the pollen count was high and my hours of sleep thus far this week are low, there was another reason for those tears.  Today was Liam's last day of first grade.

I'm not sure why it had such an impact on me but, it did.  When he wandered into our room just before 7:00 with his toothless grin, I recalled the toothless baby he was seemingly yesterday.  As I walked him to the bus, I thought about September, when I will be waving good-bye to a second-grader and kindergartener. How can this be?  Ciara in kindergarten?  But she was just a rosebud of a bitsy baby last week!  I swear!

The school schedule this week has been especially taxing for working moms and today was no exception.  School ended for the day, and the year, at 9:30.  No, that's not a typo.  The duration of today's "school day" was an hour and a half.  So, I figured I would go to work a bit late and pick my little man up.  Make the last day special for him.  Since this was a last-minute decision, I didn't have the chance to put a note in his backpack --  the same backpack that seemed far too large last fall but now seems to suit him perfectly.  

As soon as I got back from the bus stop, I called the school to let them know I'd be there to pick Liam up.  No one answered, which struck me as odd, but I left a message and went on auto-pilot as I got ready for work, got the triplets and Ciara fed and dressed and piled everyone into the minivan for the last day of school pick up.  I was so excited to be there for him.  To see his little face.  To say good-bye and thank you to his teacher.  To scoop him up and tell him how much I loved this little second grader in training.  It didn't work out that way though.

When I got to his school, he wasn't there.  My heart sank and those tears welled up once more.  My precious guy with the toothless grin was on the bus, headed home toward an empty house.  This is not the way it was supposed to be. This is not how I wanted my first grader to remember his last day of school.  I tried so hard to get there, to be there for him, to hustle the rest of the kids out of the house, leaving their cereal bowls half empty.  Just for this moment.  The moment when Liam was supposed to leap into my arms with joy but was instead alone on the bus.

Fortunately, friends and neighbors came to the rescue.  One tried to chase down the bus while another wrangled Ciara and the triplets and yet another welcomed my slightly frightened and extremely confused little guy into her home.  By the time I got there, he was happily playing in the basement, completely unaware of how deeply I was feeling my failing, of how sorry I was to have missed him.  To have left him alone.  In true kid fashion, he ignored my arrival and disputed our departure.  "But Mom, I'm having fun, I want to stay here!"  I was reminded once again that our kids are not nearly as harsh on us as we are on ourselves.  And, they are really good at forgiving and forgetting.  I'm not sure if that's something he learned in first grade but, he seems to have mastered a few life lessons and is definitely ready to move on.  Perhaps not surprisingly, far more ready than I am!

Car sick kid + violent storms = Road trip from hell!

I have to thank our neighbor for coining the term "rolling vomitorium."  This is what our minvan (a.k.a. "Swagger Wagon") turned into last Friday afternoon as we traveled to Long Island to spend the weekend with my aunt.  


We got off to a pretty good start.  We were able to leave work a few hours early and had the car packed and ready to roll at 3:00.  By the time we cruised around town borrowing pack & plays, gassing up and stopping for iced coffee, it was closer to 3:30 by the time we actually left.  About two minutes later, the skies opened up, the thunder boomed and the lightening started a stellar performance that would last for hours.  As the weather roared outside, the kids roared inside. "I want a snack! I want a drink! Can we watch a movie? He's kicking me! She pinched me!  Why can't I have a snack?  How long does it take to get there?!" Mind you, this all erupted before we even hit the highway so I should have known it was going to be a long trip.


Our first snafu?  A certain young man who obviously disregarded his mother's strong urging to pee before we left the house.  As we crawled along in the Friday traffic, slowly navigating the flooded roads, poor Liam started squirming in the third row... "I REALLY have to go!" he pleaded with such urgency there were tears in his eyes.  Unfortunately, we were on a highway with no rest stops and not even a shoulder to safely and sneakily pee upon.  Additionally, he was so crammed in the back that exiting the car required climbing over one pack & play, one large dog and his sister.  Since it seemed to be a legitimate emergency and the notion of spending the next few hours in a car full of urine was unappealing, we risked life and limb to let the little man out to relieve himself.  We got back in the car soaked by the rain but, figured it beat being soaked in pee and away we went! 


Shortly thereafter, the fun really started.  Declan was sitting behind the driver's seat in the car seat previously known as the "Barf Chair."  We'd gone through a period last summer when whatever kid sat there inevitably hurled.  We thought we'd fixed that problem by adjusting the seat.  We thought wrong.  "I'm not feeling very well," Declan announced in a matter of fact manner.  Then his sweet face turned from rosy pink to ghostly white to a frightening shade of grey/green.  Then he threw up what appeared to be about ten pounds of watermelon.  Pink fruit-strewn stinky barf was all over him, all over that car seat and, ready for this?  All over our DOG!  Poor Finnegan gave me a look as if to say "Really?  First you jam me in this car between kids and pack & plays and bags and now this?!"  


Our next move was pulling over for the second time to strip Declan down, clean out the seat and do our best to remove the watermelon chunks from Finny's fur.  This was no easy task on the side of the LIE with the rain pouring down and the lightening continuing its show -- especially since when I opened the trunk, I was nearly killed by the bags that tumbled out, bouncing off my head on the way to the ground.  Not good.  On the upside though, we were prepared -- a quick change of clothes, a swift cleansing with wipes and a hearty dose of Purell and we were on our way once more.


Until he threw up again.  On Finny.  Again.  This time we had the good fortune to pull over under a bridge so at least we weren't pummeled by the rain as we stripped the kid down.  This time I could feel the eyes of onlookers as they crawled by in the miserable rush hour traffic.  I suspect the other Swagger Wagon drivers understood; they had a sense of "been there, done that."  The swank sports cars seemed to scoff, as if to suggest "I would never allow that to happen is this sleek performance machine!"  And then there were the sympathetic old folks in oversized sedans, one of whom actually pulled over to say "is everything ok?  I saw the naked baby on the side of the road and was worried."  Well, kind sir, thank you.  To tell you the truth, we were worried too but, once again, all's well that ends well.  


We put Declan in his PJs, put on a movie, passed out some pretzels and continued on our journey.  As the kids laughed at something clever from the Clifford video, Des and I laughed in the front seat... we knew we had hours to go, the car smelled like puke and the dog looked like hell but really, what else could we do?  Our traveling family circus keeps us entertained in all kinds of weather and when we woke up to a blue sky and bright sun the next morning, we knew it was well worth the trip. Even if it was the trip from hell! 

Tuesday Tip: Getting out of the house in 30 minutes or less

Whenever I’m out and about with our brood, people can’t help but ask “how do you do it?!” While I often interpret the question as one that relates to our daily struggles and working mom juggles, I realized once again this weekend that sometimes what people really mean is “how do you ever even get out of your house with all those kids?!” The answer, of course, is that it's not easy but since I'm not a sit at home type of a gal, I've developed a routine that more often than not gets us out of the house in 30 minutes or less. Here's my little cheat sheet...

1. Keep the diaper bag stocked.  As my kids have gotten older, the stock has changed.  Baby formula and extra bottles have been replaced by crayons and coloring books. Diaperes and wipes remain a constant, as do sippy cups, water bottles, a ziploc bag of snacks and depending on the season, sunblock and/or hats. I do my best to restock the bag when we return home and I keep it by the front door so we're always ready to roll.
2. Keep extra essentials in the car -- this way if your diaper bag gets depleted, you won't be caught empty-handed.  A few supplies always on-hand in our "Swagger Wagon" include wipes, Purell, sunblock, paper towels, tissues and snacks that stand the test of time and extreme temperatures... not that I've sampled them myself but the kids never seem to complain when I uncover a hidden bag of Goldfish or a surprise cereal bar.  Plastic baggies are also good to have handy... as a recent weekend roadtrip reminded me, they are perfect for containing the after effects of any accidents that may occur en route!
3.  Go to the bathroom before you leave the house! The natural extension of this time-proven rule of the road is to change your little one's diaper (or in my case, diapers!) just before departure.  As you likely know, as soon as you do, they will fill it up with the nastiest of poops, causing you to rinse and repeat but still, better to get it out of the way before you're underway! This is one that your mother always told you and once again, she was right!
4. Have a plan.  My husband thinks I'm crazy but while we're having breakfast on Sunday morning, I'm already thinking of where we're going after church and what we need to bring.  If we're headed to the pool, I'm creating a mental checklist that includes towels, swimmies and juice boxes.  If it's out to lunch, I'm checking that bag by the door for extra crayons and tossing in a few Legos to keep the little ones occupied.  The point is, if you start to think about where you're headed with plenty of time to spare, once it's time to actually get going, you'll be halfway out the door while your husband is asking if he needs to bring his swimsuit.   To which you can happily reply, "Got it, hon!  Get in the car, we're ready to roll!" 
5. Avoid laces at all costs.  With five kids to hustle out of the house, I've learned the hard way that shoelaces are not my friend.  In the summer months, Crocs and flip flops reign supreme while in the winter months it' all about velcro on the sneakers and slip-ons in the way of cozy boots and Merrells.  Am I bummed out that my first grader still can't tie his shoes?  Sure I am.  But, can I swiftly and adeptly get my clan in the car in thirty minutes or less?  You betcha!

Have some tips of your own?  Let me know!  In the meantime, hope these hints help you get your tykes out the door and on your way, with plenty of time to enjoy the day!