Back to Reality

So. It. Happened. School started. For everyone in the house. Well almost everyone. Kane. Lucy. And me. Hudson and G get to lounge around the house and take naps. Jealous? Me? Never. 

Anyways. Its that time again. Time to set alarm clocks. Pack pb&j lunches (that are never as cool as the lunches their friends pack). Check homework. Fight about homework. And fight again about nightly showers and bedtime. Ugh- I'm exhausted thinking about all of it. 

But, we managed to make it through back to school night and the first day without much drama. But, today marked day 3. Enter: Drama. Tears. And false hopes. Lucy didn't want pb&j, she wanted to eat hot lunch (sorry, no. not gonna happen). Lucy made a new friend and Hudson is heart broken. He cried all morning as he watched his 'Wucy' get on the bus, wanting to go with her (sorry. not gonna happen). And now he won't shut up about going to 'chuck e cheeses'! Now, I know I didn't tell him he could go. And, I know I didn't 'pomissed' him he could go either. I wonder who did? Cough* G *cough. So, while hurricane Hudson twirls through the house screaming about his 'Wucy' and 'chuck e cheeses'- I am hiding and throwing snacks in his direction whenever the wind blows him by. 

So, while I jump back into Pap smears and sore throats (for school, not for fun) I just wanted to wish all you moms a happy back to school. Good luck. May you always have happy children who love pb&j, homework, and showers. And if not, remember that wine is on sale right now. Appropriately so. 

Peace and love,

-A

Shots to the Heart

We recently had to take the kids to the doctor for their yearly physicals. And for Lucy that meant pre-kindergarten shots. We decided not to mention that part when we told the kids about the appointment. They both like their doctor and the nursing staff at the clinic, so they didnt really suspect that anything was up. 

The time came, and we piled in the car in a hurry, since we are generally always late. Hudson and Lucy naive to what lay ahead, excitedly jabbering about what stickers they would pick from the sticker box. G and I stopped and got them each a smoothie from the hospital cafe and skipped up to the appointment. 

Everything was going fine, Hudson was flirting with the girls at the reception desk and Lucy was showing off her stylish (self picked) outfit. They called our names and in we went.

Lucy went first. She impressed the doctor with her abc skills, sight reading, and shape recognition. Then she got a little bit anxious and started to jump around the exam room. That's when things started to get interesting. I stood up to settle Lucy down when she put her hands up and said, very convincingly, "no! don't hit me!"

Great. Perfect. My actress of a daughter everybody. Thanks. A lot. Thank god the doctor laughed it off with us and suggested that the nurse take Lucy to other room to check her eyes while we moved on to Hudson.

Hudson proudly began to answer the doctors questions. Not as impressing as Lucy. When asked how old he was, he responded proudly "3!" When asked about what color the doctor was wearing he shouted "black!" And when asked to do his abc's he started with, "a,b,c, x,p,w,z!" Can't win 'em all, can ya? Considering the fact that he is 2, the doctor was wearing a green shirt, and well, we all know our abc's, except Hudson I guess. 

Just when you though the fun was over, the good doctor mentioned that word we all hate, shots. Yep she had to say it, didnt she? That's when 3 nurses walked in and asked me to take Hudson out into the hall while G stayed with little Lucy. I agreed, not wanting to have to be the one to hold her down.

Having prepared for this moment, I had packed some of the kids favorite lollipops for diversion. It worked on Hudson for about 3 seconds and didnt work for Lucy- at all. She saw right through us and her fear was crippling. I melted. Hearing the screams, Hudson started to cry. He tried so hard to get back into that room. His little hands grabbed my face as he starred into my eyes, with tears in his, he cried, "mom help my giggy!" As I held his sad little body in my arms, I cried with him. 

When the door finally opened, about a lifetime later, Hudson ran in- pushing through the crowd of nurses. He hugged Lucy and said, ever so sweetly, "it's ok giggy, no more shots."

G and I stood there, crying. How precious that this little boy loved his sister so much. How strong for this little boy to stand up to those mean nurses and protect his big sissy. I felt so much pride for them at that moment. Lucy embraced Hudson and they hugged for what seemed like a beautiful eternity. At that point nothing else mattered. These angels even had the nurses crying. 

All of this love and beauty lasted until the nurses offered the kids more lollipops and they began to fight over colors. Nothing lasts forever, right?

But I have the memory. It made me wish that I was closer with my siblings. It made me hopeful for them as forever friends. It made me happy.

Who Cares?!?

Our summer is blowing by. I can't believe next week will be August. Living in Wisconsin has made me appreciate the few months of warmth that the frozen tundra is allowed by Mother Nature. In fact, I'm sitting in the sun writing this as my kids run through the sprinkler (naked). 

But anyways. What this warm weather has really done for me is got me thinking. Thinking about swim suits. And swim suits make me think about women. And women make me think about beauty and how beauty is what we make it. 

I am noticing a trend when it comes to conversations that I am having with other women this summer. Women from work. Women at the pool. Friends. Family. The common denominator seems to be insecurity. 

Insecurity with their bodies. Their appearance. Their parenting. Their beauty. It makes me sad. Just this past week, I have had more than 3 conversations with friends who have admitted to these insecurities. And why? Why are women so damn insecure?

I mean c'mon! What's all the fuss about? All of these women that I have been around are attractive, smart, and funny wives, mothers- women. All of them. 

What makes us beautiful isn't what other people think. Especially men. Men are dumb. Lets face it- without us men are nothing. They wouldn't be lovers, or fathers, or companions. And they would all be walking around in dirty underwear if it wasn't for us women.

And women. Women need to stop being so hard on other women. Women need to quit judging other women- for their parenting, their way of life, their marriages, their appearance. Women should spend way more time supporting other women instead of knocking each other down. It's pathetic. Who cares if your thighs jiggle. Who cares if your boobs are too small or too big. Who cares if you let your kids stay up late. Who cares if you let your kids run through the sprinklers (naked). Who really cares? 

We are all special and beautiful is our own ways. We are strong, capable, and caring. So why do we spend so much time caring about negative things? Lets change our focus and care about beautiful things. About being loyal wives, and supportive friends, loving mothers, and proud daughters. Lets be the women we all want to be.

Cause you know what? I'm a pear shaped mother of two with battle wounds and c-section scars. But my husband digs me. My kids love me. My friends support me. And my parents are proud of me.

I'm beautiful. Damnit! 

Peace and Love,

-A

Me? Write a Blog For You? Ok!

I recently was asked to be a guest blogger for a website called Nucopiamom.com, a website run by a friend of mine. At first I had no idea what to write about. And then I realized- who am I kidding? I've got tons of shit to write about! 

So read about it and check out Nucopiamom's website here:http://fb.me/2HLPAaVGr

Thanks again Kelly- it was fun!!!

So the craziest thing happened to me the other day. I woke up, my house was a disaster, my husband was snoring, and there was a 5 year old angel sleeping in my bed. Wait. I'm married? And I have a 5 year old? I can't believe it. I'm not mature enough to be a mom, let alone have a 5 year old! 

As I sat there surveying the circus that is my life, I couldn't help but think about the last 5 years. My marriage. My family. The places I have been. The things I have learned. I know its a cliche, but how did 5 years blow by so fast.

In 5 years I have settled into married life. Had 2 beautiful children. Worked to help raise my step son. Graduated from nursing school. Started graduate school. Traveled the country. Bought a house. Moved. And moved again. Fought with loved ones. Made up. And fought again. I have seen great happiness and dealt with suffocating darkness.

But the lessons that I have learned go beyond those things. Becoming a wife, and mother, has taught me lessons that can't be learned any other way. Creating my own family has been my greatest accomplishment yet...

(This article was inspired by the recent milestone birthday of my 5 year old daughter. Check out the full article at http://fb.me/2HLPAaVGr)

Peace and Love,
-A

Movie Day on Crack

Lucy has been loving school. Some days my little lioness even wakes up human and allows me to get her dressed in real clothes and brush her mane. Some days.

She comes home everyday eager to tell me all about her day and share any activities with Hudson. When she is good, she can be so sweet. I try so hard to treasure those moments. Because they are few. Her mood is unpredictable. Her attitude is fierce. Lots of people tell me that the "apple doesn't fall far from the tree," but I don't know what they are talking about.

With finishing my graduate studies, G has had to take on a few more responsibilities with the kids during the week. Dressing them. Feeding them. Getting them on the bus. Nap time. Gymnastics. Wrestling. He has been doing pretty good. And by pretty good I mean: feeding them take-out, missing the bus, skipping gymnastics, and having me handle wrestling practice.
So. Last night when I was getting Lucy's backpack ready for school, I asked G if he had emptied her "take-home" folder. He quickly replied with, "what? no."

Picking up her backpack, I immediately noted that it was heavier than normal. Much heavier. Confused, I opened her backpack to find EVERY SINGLE DVD we own. Yep. Every single one.

Even more confused I asked Lucy, "why do you have all the DVDs in your backpack?
"Tomorrow is movie day at school!!!" She explained with excitement.

My little Lucy thought she would help with movie day by providing ALL of the movies.

She is such a little helper.

I know I am but what are you???

I know that I have always said my life is like a circus. But it is really a circus these days. And the worst part is, I think Lucy is the ring leader. G and I are just tired little lions following her lead. And Hudson, well he is sneaky and scrappy. Kinda like a monkey. He is growing like a weed. Talking like a champ. And starting to stand up for himself with his big brother and sister. And by stand up for himself, I mean- knock them down, kick them, take what they have, and leave them in his dust.

Just the other day Hudson was playing angry birds on the ipad when the ipad suddenly shut off. Angrier than a little angry bird, Hudson flew over to Garth and demanded that dad "fixs the boke ipad!" Doing as he was told, G took the ipad and plugged it in to charge, upsetting our little Hudson. So much so, that he started to jump around the kitchen screaming, "my ipad, my ipad!!!" Laughing at him, G tried to explain that the battery needed to charge and that Hudson could have it back in a little bit. Still pissed, Hudson stopped jumping and screaming, mumbled "ash-ole" under his breath and walked away.

Being the mature parent G is, he walked right over to Hudson and asked, "what did you say Hudson? Say it again" and laughed.

It took Lucy our ring leader, to sternly scold Hudson that "ash-ole" is a naughty word and that he needed to talk nice, or else.

Thank God Lucy is around to do all the parenting these days.

Dog Days of Winter

My life has been hectic, crazy, busy, and boring- all at the same time. The holidays were dramatic and exhausting, and then I was propelled into the jungle of graduate school. I spent 2 weeks in an intense preparatory course for clinical practice and G was left home with all the kids and our NEW puppy. Yep. I'm crazy. Well. To be fair, Lucy convinced me to convince G that it was a good idea, since she really wanted a kitty and I am deathly allergic. I know, she is a very smart 4 year old- right? Oh and, the kids were sick. Perfect. Happy New Year!

So. For the last two weeks, I have been enduring freezing temps and blowing winds, all while trying to study, raise my family, keep everyone healthy, and potty train a 2 pound Morkie.

These past two weeks taught me a few things: how to perform a pap smear, prostate exam, how to perform a physical, and most importantly- that G is a whiny, and slightly bitchy, housewife. He is a great daddy, and good husband, and a smart Medic, but he is terrible at running a household, as evidenced by:

Lucy missing the bus and school and gymnastics class, more than once.
Hudson's nap schedule being interrupted for important trips to Fleet Farm and Menard's.
Kane not do any chores, and the dog shit in the backyard piling up.
No one potty training the new puppy.
NO grocery shopping getting done. AT ALL.
I'm pretty sure everyone was forced to turn their underwear inside out, since that room off the kitchen where clothes pile up looked a lot more like the Sand Dunes of Monterey Bay then a laundry room.
And G complaining, like I couldn't relate. Um- hello!?!?!

So, since being home I have been busy handing out Tamiflu and Motrin like skittles, babying my kids and husband, potty training the puppy, grocery shopping, preparing (real) meals, and returning normalcy were chaos ensued. Well. We will never be normal, but a girl can try. Right?

I gotta go... Lucy is puking and the puppy is eating it. Great.

peace and love,
-A




Meet Bella- the newest member of our family.

Hudson was really excited about getting the new puppy- can you tell?

mommy and bella

yummy chicken dumling soup- thanks to Ms. Jen for the recipe

being a puppy is "ruff"



2012- A Look Back

The holidays are officially over. Thank God. They were exhausting. Emotional. Fun. Sweet. Ugly. But most of all, they were just exhausting.

2012 was a roller coaster of a year for the Schueys...

I dove, head first, into my graduate studies.

We remolded the home where we fell in love.

 

We sold the home where we fell in love and moved-in order to grow as a family.

 

Lucy turned 4. She continues to bring a lot of energy to our lives.

 

My mom, GeGe, little sister Jillian, and I took a dream NYC Broadway vacation. It was 3 generations of WICKED.

 

 We spent most of our summer by the lake- swimming, kayaking, hiking, and being a family.

Lucy started 4K and loves school.

Kane started High School. He even joined the soccer and the wrestling team.



Our family was rocked, shocked, rattled, and rolled. But we made it through. We were able to rise above. Like a phoenix, we were reborn from the ashes of hell- together, stronger than ever.
Garth stayed busy keeping everyone (me) calm. He is the glue that keeps this family together. For that- I LOVE HIM.

We gave "Thanks" in a different way this year- with a run/walk for charity and a little left over chinese food. 

Hudson, our sweet baby, turned 2. He had a blast celebrating with friends and family.

 



Lucy sang like an angel for her school Christmas Program and at church on Christmas Sunday. And, NO. The church building did not burn in flames.

Christmas was emotional, raw, honest, and nutty. Despite an icy blizzard, Christmas brought a lot of heat and flames. And Garth was there every step of the way, putting out fires and loving me through all my crazy.

Even with all the craziness, we were still able to find some time to play Santa for our little ones. That is before Lucy woke up to ask me how Santa was going to get through our "closed fireplace." That was a close call for this Santa team.

I kissed my babies and rang in the New Year with my family. It was a very symbolic way to start 2013.

From my (crazy) family to yours- Happy Freakin New Year.

Dear Santa

We recently attended Lucy's school Christmas Program. Having grown up in California, the land of being politically correct, this was shocking to me. A school CHRISTMAS PROGRAM??? What happened to Hannakah, Kwanzaa, The Chinese New Year???? Do Wisconsin schools not have HOLIDAY PROGRAMS that are non-discriminating??? That seemed strange to me.

As it turns out, Lucy has yet to learn about Hannakah. She has NO IDEA about a manorah, or draddle, draddle, draddle. She has no idea what Kwanzaa means. Chinese New Year- forget about it.

When I was growing up, in California, the land of feelings, hippies, and cultural awareness- I never saw a Christmas Tree in the classroom. We didnt talk about Santa Claus. We colored pictures of Manorahs, played with draddles, learned about St. Nick, and read ethnic history lessons on the meaning of Kwanzaa. I didnt mind. Some of my friends were Jewish. Draddles seemed cool. St. Nick was way fancier than my vision of Santa Claus. And Kwanzaa, well who doesn't love beating a steel drum in a circle of friends???

So. When I received a letter from Lucy's school inviting friends and family to their ANNUAL Christmas Program, I was intrigued. People in Wisconsin aren't afraid of insulting other cultures? Hurting any little Jewish child's feelings? How could that be? It couldn't be true. I had to see it for my own eyes!

The week of the Christmas Program, Lucy walked around the house singing CHRISTMAS CAROLS. Where did she learn those??? I had to ask.

Me: "Lucy, what are you singing?"
Lucy: "Rudolph"
Me: "Wow, you are a beauiful singer. Where did you learn the Rudolph song?"
Lucy: "At school. Today we even got to practice in the gym!" And off she sang, running and playing with Hudson. Who was now singing "Rudolph" too.

I sat thinking, to myself, that maybe a Christmas Program still exsisted in the world. Still skeptical, I waited to see for myself.

The night of the program, Lucy picked out her very own version of a Christmas outfit. She looked great. At least she thought she did. She was so excited to show everyone her classroom and sing her songs.

When we arrived, I noticed a Christmas Tree in the front entrance, tinsel and paper chains hanging- counting down the days until christmas. This was definetley and Christmas Party!

We were ushered to our seats where we listened to children sing Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, Feliz Navidad, and We Wish You a Merry Christmas!

Lucy stood proud in the front row, belting the words she could remember, and waving to us Schueys in the back row. I was so proud of my little Christmas Elf.

this is G wrangeling Hudson, who wanted to be on stage singing with sissy.

After the singing was done Lucy took us through her classroom, introduced us to her teachers, and showed off all of her art work and school projects. One project that caught my eye was a letter to Santa that hung on the Christmas Wall. Not only was there a Christmas Wall, but there were letters to Santa!!!!

There wasnt a dradle, a manorah, or a kwanzaa candle in sight.

I am officially a (has been) Mormon, now non-denominational liberal, married to a Lutheran, and living in a Catholic run, public school district. Im not offended. Just disappointed really. I mean, who is going to teach Lucy how to spin a dradle or make a kwanzaa feast? I mean, do I have to do everything?

Happy Christmas and Merry Hannakah

With love-

Fear of God

I was doing laundry the other day, shocking- I know, and I found this crinkled up in with Lucy's clothes.

I carefully opened it and was a little bit confused. Since I work on Sundays and G wont allow us to worship with the Mormons, it is up to big daddy G to get the kids to church. And by that I mean- it is really up to Grandma Schuey.

Confused, but interested- I took this (beautifully) colored picture of Issac and Abraham to Lucy, you know, for explanation.

This is how the conversation went.

Me: "hey Lucy, what's this?"
Lucy: looks up and then back down at her dolls, "that's babe-ra-ham and Isaac. God made babe-ra-ham put baby Isaac on the stones."
Me: "really? Why did God do that?"
Lucy: "because God said so. But it's okay mom, a goat came and babe-ra-ham put down his knife. And him and Sarah got to keep baby Isaac."
Me: "why did they get to keep baby Issac?"
Lucy: standing up, she placed he hand out like a crossing guard and said, "because God came and said STOP."

As a (has been) Mormon seminary student I understand this story of faith and sacrifice. But as a mom this story made me think twice. What a terrible story to tell 4 year olds. Mormon, Lutheran, or not, how scary. To think that a daddy would sacrafice his son- ON STONES. WITH A KNIFE!

But then I thought, could I use this to my advantage? To instill the fear of God in my kids, literally.

Just a thought.

Peace and love-
Mama

Xmas Pic

I haven't send out my Christmas card yet this year. Why? Because this is what happens every time I try to take a Christmas picture of my kids.

2 Bites

On Monday night I was called into work to help recover an open heart patient. Desperate for help, I called my mom to help with the little chickens, since G was at work too. MeMe was quick to oblige. And by oblige I mean- let Hudson eat ice cream for dinner and stay up until midnight.

Anyways, MeMe and Hudson had a lot of fun. And, MeMe helped teach Hudson about how old he would be on his birthday- 2 bites. 2 bites (years) = 2 bites of ice cream. Duh.

That is not a typo. MeMe gave Hudson 2 bites of ice cream, because he would be 2 (bites) on his birthday.

Obviously, I was thrilled when I came home, after a long night of work. Thrilled. But. When the help is free, you cant complain. So. Thanks, MeMe.

 

Tonight, our baby turned 2. Officially. 2 bites. It was perfect. Friends and family helped us celebrate our precious Hudson. Oogoo-gi.

He was happy. And perfect. I am beaming. I CAN NOT believe that my BABY is 2. I'm a mess, really. I feel pride, happiness, fear, and sadness- all at the same time. Where are the fucking tissues? Cant you see a Mama is crying over here?!?!?!?!

 

 

the karaoke machine he got from my in laws.....

nothing says thank you like a drum set or spray paint (for my nephew)....

or a paint ball gun.... you better sleep with one eye open....

I am so thankful for all my friends and family. It truly takes a village to raise these animals- without you all, I would be lost.... I love you, all.... But seriously, watch out. Karma is a bitch.

Happy Birthday Hudson, Mommy loves you. Despite the karaoke machine, you are still my favorite.

Loves.