Get outta my dreams...

Get into my car!

I have been doing two different car lines, four times a day for the past six weeks or so.  Holy cannoli, have I seen a lot.  Allow me to give you, the wonderful readers, some car line tips.

1.  Don't smoke in your car while you're waiting for your kid.  I mean, really?  There is even a sign in the parking lot that says the school is a no-smoking zone.  C'mon.

Credit:http://standupforamerica.files.wordpress.com/2010/06/no-smoking-sign-premises.jpg

2.  Do put your phone down and say hello or good-bye to your child.  I have seen so many parents drop their kids off in the morning with nary a wave because the parents are too busy jabbering on their cell phones.  Maybe the parents make a special point to say goodbye before the actual drop-off, but I sort of think the kids deserve a little hug or kiss or something as they're getting ready to walk into school.

3.  Don't park in the car line if you plan on leaving before it's your turn.  At least twice, I have had parents come up to my car window and ask me to move my car over a little so they can drive between the cars in the two lines to get out of there.  I know everyone is busy; we all lead crazy, hectic lives.  But if it's that important to get to an appointment or get out of the parking lot, leave a little earlier.

4.  Do pay attention when you're in the line. If the rest of the cars have moved up five car-lengths, it's probably a hint that you should do the same.

5.  Do not pick your nose.  Those car windows?  They're made of glass.  We can ALL see what you're doing, and it's gross.

credit: http://debbieschroeder.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451d6e069e2016760293d0a970b-500wi

6.  Do try to relax.  Stop looking at your watch, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, and shaking your head.  The kids will come out soon, and then you can get back to your über-important life.

Just some car line guidance from your friendly neighborhood CarLine Mom.

September morns

I haven't blogged much at all lately, but it's not for lack of desire.  I'm simply exhausted by the end of the day, and that's usually the only time I have to sit down with the computer to write.  The morning routine has evened itself out but, man, it's tiring.  

I get up around 6:15 every morning in order to have a little time to myself before the nuttiness of the day begins.  I usually have until 7:00, but occasionally, Lottie decides to make an early start of things and begin her daily chat-fest while I'm still in the shower.  Good times.  Normally, I wake the kids up at 7:00, but that always takes a few minutes of groaning, yawning, stretching, and protesting before they're both actually up and at 'em.  They begin breakfast although something usually distracts them and I spend the next twenty minutes or so saying, "Let's concentrate on eating, guys." I probably say that forty times in those twenty minutes: you do the math.  Then we all troop back upstairs for dressing and grooming, and my phrase of choice is, "GUYS!  IT IS TIME TO GET DRESSED!" Because, you know, jumping on the bed or playing pirate is much cooler than getting ready for school.  By the time we get everyone zipped, buttoned, brushed, and washed, we're already late to get Dallas to the 8 AM drop-off.  Luckily, we don't live too far from school, and we're rarely the only car running behind.  Once Dallas is out of the car, Lottie and I run errands.  I can't drop her off at school until 8:30, so I try to use those thirty minutes to my advantage.  Running errands with Lottie is interesting, to say the least. She inevitably asks for candy or a toy no matter where we are, and getting her to move along is like herding molasses.  If there aren't any errands or if we have time before her drop-off, I park the car in the Flint Lake Elementary driveway, and we read together.  I know Lottie really enjoys the quiet reading time, as do I, but I have a feeling her favorite part of this activity is that she sits on the console in between the two front seats while I read to her.  Rule-breaking!  In front of the school!  We could get arrested!  When the clock says it's time, she heads out the car door to school, her backpack making her look a bit like a drunken, albeit adorable, turtle.  

I'm home by 8:35 with a few minutes to relax and enjoy the silence.  I eat breakfast (which I can't eat any earlier due to my apparent inability to absorb Synthroid, thus necessitating two hours between taking the meds and food entering my body) and decide which task I am going to tackle.  I'm usually just getting into the groove of cleaning out the basement storage area, going through the kids' closets to weed out old clothes, or scrubbing the showers when I look up and realize it's 10:45.  Sigh.  I take five minutes to try to disguise the fact that I'm a sweaty cow and leave to go get Dallas.  I always end up feeling like I should have accomplished more in my two hours and ten minutes of freedom, but I know I do as much as I can.  One of these days, I'm going to blow off any attempt at working, lie on my bed under a blanket, and read all morning.  

And those are my typical mornings. Most times they're enough to make me feel like I have lived a whole day by 8 AM.  They're rushed and hurried and stressful, but I also get to hear hilarious and bizarre conversations that I wouldn't otherwise get to hear.  And if I'm really lucky, I get some sweet morning cuddles from both of my snuggly little cubs.  

For those of you who are thinking that I need to enjoy the crazy mornings with my kids because soon enough they're be running out of the door in the mornings without a backward glance, I say I won't notice because I'll still be under the blankets fast asleep.  So bring it on, my friends.  Bring.  It.  On.  (Kidding.  Sort of.)

--And for those of you who have asked, my thyroid levels are still out of whack.  They're slowly coming down but not as quickly as the doctor and I would like.  Once again, I have a higher dose of Synthroid, and I will go back in six weeks to have my levels tested again.  Keep your fingers crossed for me!  

Goin' Back to Indiana

When I was sixteen, I couldn't wait to get out of my small town.  I dreamed of living in a big city, living footloose and fancy-free.  I stayed in Indianapolis after I graduated from Butler and lived a great life...for a while.  After a particularly rough patch, I moved back to Valparaiso because I needed to be home.  I bought a house, had a great job, incredible friends, and my amazing family.  I stayed for a few years, and then I moved to Lexington to start my life with Trevor.  I like Lexington a lot; it's a fantastic city with a small-town feel.  I have some pretty fabulous friends here and a home that I have worked hard to fill with beauty and love. But lately, I have felt like something was missing.  It took a little while for me to realize that what I have been missing is home.

Lexington is my adopted home, but Valpo will always be where my heart is.  My family is there, my friends are there, and Chicago is pretty darn close.  It seems as though the Wells family is ready for a change, so we're heading to Indiana.  Trevor is ready to get a buzz cut and bust out the Picket Fence on a regular basis.  (If you are scratching your head at that reference, you haven't seen the movie Hoosiers enough times.  Go watch it.  I'll wait.)

So, yeah.  We're moving.  If you had asked me five years ago if we would ever move my family to Valpo, I probably would have given you a blank stare.  But there is something about having kids that makes one long for a sense of family.  We're going to live in my parents' neighborhood: according to my friend Tiffany, that's either genius or insane.  My kids will go to the same schools that my niece and nephew attended.  We'll live about 1/10th of a mile from my brother, sister-in-law, and their family. It's going to be fantastic, chaotic, agitating, soothing, and gratifying.

 The details: Trevor will continue to work for Miller Wells, but he'll work remotely from home.  He'll still have to come back to Lexington once a month or so for meetings, court appearances, or just to get away from being at home with me 24/7.  (I kid.  I kid!)  My parents are keeping their condo here in town, so we'll all have a place to stay when we come back to visit or when Trevor comes back to work.  Our new home is nothing like our current home.  Although I adore our historic home on a beautiful street close to downtown, I'm looking forward to having a newer house with windows that open (!) and less square footage for me to clean.  It also has a totally sweet theater room in the finished, daylight basement.  I will miss the quirky character and beauty of our almost-one-hundred-year-old house, but I'm eager to make our new house into our home.  (And if you know anyone who is looking for a fantastic house in the Bluegrass, here it is: our home listing.)

Although I will be a Midwest housewife when we move in the summer, I'm going to keep the name of my blog.  I started writing as a housewife of the Bluegrass, and changing the name of the blog just doesn't feel right.  I put myself out there as Real Housewife of the Bluegrass, and that is what I'll stay.

I'm going to miss lots of things about Lexington: the family and friends we have here, our babysitter who has become a member of the family, walking to the local park, the huge public library, the wonderful preschool both kids attend, Cajun fast food, the Kentucky theater, the complete panic when there is a threat of snow...wait, no.  I won't miss that at all.  Lexington has been good to me for almost seven years and I know it will be a period of huge transition for all of us.  But I know in my heart that as long as I'm with the people I love, I'll be home.

'Tis the season...

Yup, it's holiday time.  We're not quite to Thanksgiving, and the Christmas decorations are going up.  The Christmas music is in the stores, and I have even seen some Christmas trees up along our street.  But for me, right around the beginning of November doesn't signify holidays.  No, no.  Chez Wells, November always seems to begin the season of sickness.

With two kids in preschool, we definitely get our fair share of germs.  And despite the hand-washing and Lysol applications to every surface in the house, those germs eventually make everyone sick.  We seem to stay sick, too, until about May.  And by "we", I mean me, too.  That's about the only downside to preschool that I can see.  So far, Lottie has had two or three colds and strep throat.  Dallas, not to be out-sicked, has also had two or three colds, a double ear infection, and two cases of croup.  Winning!

Right now both kids are on antibiotics.  Lottie is almost finished with her ten day regimen, and Dallas has just started his.  By the time next week rolls around, I have a feeling that Lottie will be back on meds again because that's just the way it goes.

I decided to change the lyrics of one of my favorite Christmas songs to reflect my feelings about the season.

I'm dreaming of a well Christmas
Just like the one we've never had
Where the noses don't glisten
And mothers don't listen
To hear coughing in the night

I'm dreaming of a well Christmas
Without Amoxicillan
Without tissues, cough drops or phlegm
And no fevers or glassy eyes.

I'm dreaming of a well Christmas
With kids who just won't cough and sneeze
May the days be sunny and bright
And may all our Christmases be without blight

Happy holidays, y'all!