Then the Universe saw my poker face…

Well it has been a hell of a long time. I will be honest. I haven’t written because I am hiding. This past few months have been garbage. Like a smoldering, rotting, festering and really stressful pile of garbage.

-School
-orders (the husband is being called back for a while)
-work
-life in general can suck.

Even the fun stuff we have done has been shadowed by the stench of stress.

My kids… well a few of them… all got THE LICE.

yeah, I can see you itching already but keep reading if you have ever dealt with this because I am SURE you could use the laughs.

It all started in mid-January when my best friend and her family came over for a day. We had fun. Kids played. Grown ups day drank and we all had a good laugh over the silliness of the VR thing that they got and brought over.

Then the next day I get a phone call from the BFF about how her daughter had lice. That the kids in daycare keep getting lice and set it all on fire. It doesn’t matter how rich or poor or clean you keep your life: lice don’t give AF.

I live in an unnatural level of terror of lice. Something about the trauma of getting lice from a birthday party when I was six and having my mother comb through my hair from my new home of the bathtub for a week straight scared me for eternity. I lecture about hats, hairbrushes and try to keep the girls hair combed and tidy… tea tree oil for everything!

After mentally screaming. Check kids. No lice. Check them every day for a week.

Phew!

Then a couple of weeks later got a note from the Kindergarten (which is a petri dish. They are so precious but FFS they are also little festering monsters of runny noses, sticky hands and sand) that there was a lice thing: my kid looked fine but they need to let us know.

Phew! But we comb through and throw back-pack through the drier. Just in fucking case, ya’ll.

Now we were off to this big pretend-fun-for-the-family-before-husband-leaves-for-work thing in California. It is for a long 4 day “weekend”. SO we pack up the kids. We load up the mini-van and we drive to death by powerpoint. We decided that while we were there: DISNEYLAND! Woot! Planned the trip all set for the last day in California! PLUS, we can visit my sister who is just a hop skip and jump away!

WRONG.

This is where my kids DO get lice.

After 2 false alarms. They get lice while we are literally in a completely different STATE.

This, what is set up to be the greatest surprise we manage to pull off ever, is where the girls get THE LICE. Big scary adult ones! The kind that lay eggs that leads to full infestations!

of course.

SO. We spent 6 hours. Yes, that is correct: SIX HOURS at my sisters house washing everything they have been near. Treating their heads and my head and my husbands head and mentally screaming. 100 dollars in lice shampoo and untold hours combing through hair. For the record: my daughters both have longer hair. It is thick and Three has super gorgeous beachy waves NATURALLY. Which makes this process take 10 times longer.

FINALLY: After hours and hours of three adults combing through 5 children hair we raise our arms and say: I think we are good. I check the hubs. He checks me. I then check my sister. We are filled with cautious relief.

At least we caught them early. Only the 2 girls had them but they shared a bed. We killed every last (I think honestly it was only like 5 or 6) lice that day.

But the eggs… for fuck sakes… the eggs are the big problem. The shampoo doesn’t murder the eggs so you have to pull them out one by one. AND they are itty bitty and hard to find and Four hates sitting still that long.

She fusses and fidgets and we end up watching a hell of a lot of “lolirock” on Netflix. This show is trash, if you don’t already know. Zero substance but it made her zone out for the hour a day I combed through her hair.

Lice live for like 30 days. They are eggs (Nits) for like 5 to 7 days and then little babies for 5-7 days and then adults that lay nasty eggs for like 5-7 days and then they, like, retire or something and just make kids heads itch for 5-7 days. Then they die.

So, by doing exactly as instructed we have treated the kids every 5 days. Well… I shaved One, Two and Fives heads. And we seem to have stopped this before  it spiraled out of control

If this ever happens again I am going to just start from scratch. Shave everyones head and throw all the bedding, stuffed animals, car seats, clothes, dress up, barbies, bags and linens out in the garbage. It is all replaceable. My mental health is a little less replaceable…

It is always something here. But I swear to all that is holy I will shave Fours head if she ever gets them again.

Very Firsts… and Thirds, Fifth and Sixes.

The very first day of the new school year has been completed.

Mission control deems this was a successful day.

Everyone woke up on time, got to school on time, there were no tears or whining. We even manage to get a few half decent obligatory 1st day pictures! I managed to work, do my class, and enjoy time with Five all in the time before the big ones got home.

One got on the bus to his special program today. He has a rare genetic disorder called Coffin-Siris Syndrome (which I should write about one day) and has some mild cognitive and physical delays. He is also besties with the bus driver and was thrilled to see it was the same driver this year.

Two is starting fifth grade. Which is CRAZY because I remember fifth grade fondly. In fact I am friends with my former fifth grade teacher on FaceBook. I hope that this grade is good for him… last year was hard. He is going through “the changes of life” and I think it has thrown him off his groove. Kid is smart, funny and kind but towering over other 9 and 10 year olds can be hard, smelling like corndogs after PE when you forget deodorant (which he was still only 8 and 9 so completely understandable) and getting pimples over the summer can be hard on a guy.

Three is in her element. School is her jive. Desks, checklists, extra sharp pencils. She loves school, her teachers, her best friends, and all things that school has to offer. She cries when other kids misbehave and the class gets in trouble. Three is a rule follower and super diplomat. In kinder a boy was incredibly cruel to her and begged her for attention. When he would say or do mean things she would never retaliate. She demanded that he respect her space, reported him to her teacher and during the meeting that ensued said “He isn’t nice but I think he just doesn’t know how to be a good friend. I don’t want to be around him because he is mean to me but I will still be nice to him in class. Maybe he will see how to be kind and learn.” She was 6 years old. 6. Speaking with kindness and dignity. Girl is going to grow up and be a better human than I ever could be.

and Four.

Yesterday was Four’s very first day of Kinder. Which she has been chomping at the bit to attend since Three started Kinder. She hasn’t slept in 3 days. “I AM GOING TO KINDERGARTEN!!!!” And apparently yesterday was everything she could dream about. She told us all about how her teacher read the “The Kissing Hand”, how they learned how to ask to go to the restroom, that there are twins in her class and that they are so cute because they wear matching clothes, that she made friends.  She was disappointed that she hasn’t learned to read yet. Her father explained that reading takes time and practice and we can help her practice at home. He was told that he can’t teach her how to read because he isn’t a teacher like that. He can teach her how to ride a bike and do science but not read…. She has odd ideas but we will just groove with it.

We are so lucky that all of our kids are so excited to learn. That they view the classroom as an opportunity to have discussions, make friends, and explore the world. I hope that feeling never goes away and that they are always this excited about their first day of school.

Peek-a-Boo, Fool

There is nothing like playing peek-a-boo with a teething baby while trying to shampoo my hair to really bring my life into perspective. The other 4 are currently screaming at each other through the bathroom door about who needs which Lego (I think that is what they are saying). I have no privacy and no dignity.

11201841_10207735839057150_1908224425333868708_nEvery so often I have a moment of “Huh.”; a moment that makes me stop dead in my tracks and think: How did I get here? A bit of an existential crisis.  Especially since I was sort of thrown into it headlong. Which is what happens when you fall head over heels for a person with children. But how could I not fall head over heels for One and Two? They are absolutely amazing little guys and I am in awe everyday about how very lucky I am to GET to be their Momma.

However, I really miss privacy. Quiet. Sleep.

Because I am a human I sometimes think what our lives would be like if we hadn’t had children. If we had somehow met earlier in life and neither had the relationships we had before this. What if and could have been flood my mind while looking at the screaming 5 year old that happens to look exactly like my sister lays on the floor of the cereal aisle. Should haves haunt me when I am cleaning baby food off of my ceiling.

Life could be… Quiet. Smaller. Probably with a lot more BIG adventure. Probably more opportunities for “romance”. BUT  “romance” is why we have 5 kids. Four is a statement to the truthfulness of “just once”. But what if we had chosen no kids.

Maybe. Or we would be as big of train wrecks as we were at 20 and 21 except a decade older. We weren’t exactly the most pulled together humans when we first met. Basically we found another person that enjoyed us despite the demons we were dealing with.

Then I look into the eyes of these tiny humans. These people that are developing into doers and shakers and jokers right before my eyes. That have their own interests and hobbies and personalities despite genetics and parental guidance. (Three is very organized and persnickety… Husband and I cannot figure out where this trait comes from). I’m in awe. I am suckered into parenthood over and over again by these hooligans.

If I had to choose even in moments of my absolute selfishness (oh sleepy lazy mornings how I miss you) I would choose this path I took. Over and over again. I would leap head long over the cliff, having faith in the arms and the potential of the broken man I fell for. I would open my arms and most importantly my heart and soul to One and Two. Discovering how faceted love can be. I would choose singing out of tune “peek a boo!” with a screaming 9 month old with shampoo running into my eyes. I would chose phrases like “Work it out or the legos will all belong to MEEEEE!”

Every single time. Because this is heaven. And who needs sleep, privacy or dignity while in heaven?