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I licked the windows!

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So, I have 3 girls.  They can hold their own with the boys and love sports, but they are also girlie girls.  Translation, I am a dance mom and my girls take every dance class available.  For real, the studio offers an “unlimited class rate” and that’s how we roll.  Dancing Machines

We switched studios this year and my girls were nervous, so we set up a time to meet the owner and check out the studio.  They instantly felt at home and comfortable with Ms. Shelley.  So at home that Vivian licked the dance floor. That’s right, after a bunch of sweaty kids left their summer dance bootcamp, my 4 year old licked the floor.  She also attempted to lick Ms. Shelley, which brings me back to being comfortable thing.

I am at the studio 3 nights a week for 2 to 4 hours a night. (I told you, dance mom.) Vivian only goes on Tuesday night, but she makes her presence known on that one night.  She walks in, smacks Ms. Shelley on the rear and says hello.  Ms. Shelley doesn’t even need to look, she knows it’s my kid.

I have “that kid.”  You know, the one that leaves class to go potty and as I ask her if she is behaving she replies, “Yep, I didn’t lick the windows.”  Um, what?! Why did you mention that? “I licked the windows last week!”

Getting ready for their recital with their little cousin. Yep, "that kid" is on the left.

Getting ready for their recital with their little cousin. Yep, “that kid” is on the left.

No sleep + kids = Momnesia

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I will never forget my first week home with my firstborn.  She never slept more than 3 hours. Ever.  The usual for Sofia was 2 hours awake, 2 hours asleep, until the day I thought she died.  That’s right, with all of the new mom stress and worry, magnified by my exhaustion and overachiever tendencies to be the perfect mom, I thought I killed her in less time than it took me to kill a houseplant.

She was sleeping so soundly that I couldn’t wake her up.  Her breath was shallow, her body didn’t react to my touch, and this had gone on for more than her maximum of 3 hours.  I called my husband in a panic to get home because I had somehow killed our child in the first week.

We used cold rags on her feet, I tried to nurse her, we talked to her, turned on music.  I thought she was in a coma.  We rushed to the pediatrician and, as soon as the doctor came in, Sofia opened her eyes and smiled at me.  That’s right, I had all but blasted Beastie Boys but the sound of the pediatrician coming in woke up my newly rested, happy child. I then proceeded to have an emotional breakdown. The pediatrician recommended take out food and paper plates, to let my house be messy, and sleeping pills to get at least one night of sleep a week.

I am pretty sure I haven’t slept a solid 8 hours in almost a decade, but I have managed to keep all 3 of my girls alive. That’s right, all girls. Not the sweet, mellow girls either. I have thrill seeking, strong-willed, opinionated divas who are meaner and messier than any boy I know.

Go ahead, feel bad for my husband, just for a moment.  Then, realize that men determine the gender and I have to do their hair every morning.  Every morning.

Here we go…

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So, my husband and I live in a small town in North Carolina, but our families are spread all over the Midwest and Southeast.  So, I share my daily festivities with our girls on Facebook. By ‘festivities” I mean humiliating moments, bizarre encounters, juggling acts, hilarious conversations, travel experiences, and my “normal” chaos with my divas.

I can’t tell you how many times people have encouraged me to write a book or start a blog. My response was always, “When? I am just trying to keep them all alive and not lose a kid! Maybe when Vivian starts school.” For real, some days I had to claim momnesia and just  mentally prepare myself for the next day of craziness.

After hearing “this too shall pass” at least a million times, I finally have them all in school. So, here we go…

 

Coordinating outfits can be a challenge, but I am glad I found an outfit with pockets for the youngest. We had chicken nuggets in her pockets so she would cooperate.

Coordinating outfits can be a challenge, but I am glad I found an outfit with pockets for the youngest. We had chicken nuggets in her pockets so she would cooperate. Unfortunately, our dog, Ollie Augustus, was not as easily bribed with his pork chops. So, our only other male in the family is not pictured. That’s right, I managed to get a dog as high maintenance as my children.

Becca, Vivian, Sofia, Lawrence, Lydia, Courtney.