Could You Please Press the Pause Button?

Owen watches this show on Noggin called the "Upside Down Show." There is no use explaining it if you're not familiar with it, but just so you get the gist, it's interactive and the kids watching pretend they have a remote control and press the buttons they are told to press. Now, as a mom, I think it's a pretty ridiculous show, but Owen is infatuated with it and Blake is infatuated with Owen which leaves me a little time to talk to you guys. As I'm sitting here I'm thinking it'd be quite fabulous to have a remote control for my life, and at times like this, I really fell like just hitting the pause button...not forever, just long enough to have a full 24 hours to myself.

I'd start off my day with a nice cup of coffee and a bit of Fox & Friends. Then I'd head off to the gym for Pilate's, a nice lunch with a friend (who is also pressing the pause button), and finish off the afternoon (what would normally be nap time) at the spa for a massage, facial, and pedicure. For dinner, I'd meet Neil for a date at our favorite Italian restaurant, Pasta Plus, where we'd converse about non-kid, non-house topics. After dinner we'd retire home where there would be some nooky nooky, followed by a couple chick flicks while lounging on the couch. Of course, Neil wouldn't stick around for the chick flicks, so he'd be in the backroom watching MacGyver reruns on the Mac. I'd crawl into bed sometime around 11 (I know, late for me) where I'd sleep allergy free all night...until I heard a faint "mmmooommmmmmy" coming from somewhere inside the house. As I slowly began to regain consciousness, I'd realize that this sound was not faint at all, but was also accompanied by banging, stomping, and "I want a snack." I'd turn over to find Neil off to the gym, and my 24 hours over. Someone had pressed the play button. Oh well, at least I had the time I had, and now I'd ready to face whatever the day will bring.

No matter how great that all sounds, we all know what would inevitably happen. Eventually I'd start to miss the kids, and most of the conversations I'd have would revolve entirely around them or the new baby in my belly. It's just who we are as moms. Even when I get together with my friends here (& there are no kids around) we're telling stories about the preposterous things they did that day or what new and queasy feelings we're having in our pregnancies. Oh and the birth stories. Get a bunch of moms in a room and one pregnant lady, and you'll have the pleasure of hearing more birth stories than you'd ever have wished for. Don't worry, I'm not complaining, I'm the biggest culprit of all. Just making an observation.

My friend Angela asked me yesterday if the pregnancy has been a good distraction from the pain of losing my dad. To be honest, I feel like it's been more of a distraction than I'd like. Couple the pregnancy with selling the house, and I don't have time to think about paying the bills, much less dealing with the death of my dad. Sure, it hits me at times. The other day, "Be Thou My Vision" came on the radio. I just heard the beginning of it and quickly turned it off, but it was too late. My mind and heart had already traveled back to the memorial service. I fought back the tears, and luckily was interrupted by Owen's shenanigans in the car (which is another story I need to tell you). Don't get my wrong, I get that distraction is a natural coping mechanism that keeps us from dwelling on the negative, but is there such a thing as too much distraction? I don't know the answer, but it would seem to be true in my own life. I also know that God doesn't give me more than I can handle, with his strength of course. So with that said, do I really need to press the pause button? It would be nice though, wouldn't it?

P.S. Totally off topic, but I feel compelled to share this story. For Blake's birthday, we got Owen a new booster seat so Blake could have Owen's old seat (& face forward). Most boosters are 40 lbs+, but we thought this would be great, so we didn't have to buy a $80 seat for Blake and then a booster seat for Owen next year. Basically the seat uses the car's seat belt, and let's just say Owen can reach the red button. I'm driving down Whiskey Bottom talking to Michelle on the phone, and I see something move out of the corner of my eye. I turn to find Owen standing next to my seat. Do the words "freak out" mean anything to you? I quickly hung up with Michelle and pulled the car over, put Owen back into his seat and thanked God we didn't wreck in the process. Luckily for me, I had a set of Bamboo spoons in the car from a recent Pampered Chef order. They make great spanky sticks. Needless to say, the rule is now, "don't press the red button." If you do, you automatically get a spank on the hand. I wish I could say that was the last time I caught Owen without his seat belt on, but I can say that the frequency of said events are diminishing. Yesterday, we had a full day of no seat spankings. Now that is victory. If only I could convince Neil to set the example instead of fighting with me to put on his own seat belt. Yes I said Neil, not Owen. He has this thing about seat belts...part of his stubborn streak. I don't think he gets how closely Owen watches him, even when it doesn't seem like it. Maybe you guys could start a campaign to get Neil to wear his seat belt.