Sexy and I Know it

Eminem, meet your match.

Just go the BEEP to Sleep: Part 2

The perfect nighttime story: The punks went to bed without fussing, fell right asleep and stayed there the entire night. I managed to sleep through the night, woke up feeling refreshed and made it to the Y for Body Design.

But alas, that only happens to other people. I’ve done pissed off the universe so it seems I will never sleep all night long again.

We kicked off our perfect night with a whammy (someone, who shall remain nameless, peed the bed). Ryder was out of his bed and in my room twice last night. He didn’t need anything, apparently he just wanted to touch base and make sure I was sleeping soundly. Cortland fell out of his new bed once and slept on the floor for about an hour. He was not please when he woke up so Zach was quick to get him back in his bed and sleeping. He then proceeded to climb in bed with me once, come back down for one welfare check and finished with the grand finally where he stood at the top of the stairs screaming and crying, as loud as he could muster at 4am.

It was indeed a glorious night of rest.

This explains why the to-do list doesn’t shrink nearly as quickly as I’d like it to.

And why I tend to drink coffee all. day. long.

 

 

 

LiveJournal Tags: Cortland,Ryder,Sleep

Just Go the BEEP to Sleep

There are approximately 547 items on my to-do list and really all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep for about 36 hours. You know, to make up for all of the lost hours over the last two weeks. The lost hours of sleep don’t even have anything to do with Vegas, which is a cryin’ shame. No, I can blame the lack of sleep on my hell raiser, Cortland, who has decided to get up every single night at 3am, crawl out of his crib, come to my room and wake me up and then, want to stay awake until 5am. 

Is this some kind of joke? How was he not CC’d on the memo that this girl needs sleep?

Yesterday, in a desperate attempt to get Cort to sleep through the night I didn’t put him down for a nap. At 7:30 I was prepared for what has become our two hour bedtime battle. Instead, he laid down and went to sleep. And slept until 9 this morning. It was glorious after I figured out what in the hell was going on when I opened my eyes.

Today, I changed his crib into a toddler bed and prayed that he would actually go to sleep tonight. I prepared for the worst.

Other than getting off his bed a couple of times he went right to sleep. 

This is the true definition of winning.

LiveJournal Tags: Cortland,Sleep,Winning

March Madness, Punk Style

When raising children it’s vital to teach them the important stuff as soon as possible. 

LiveJournal Tags: Jayhawks,KU,Waving the Wheat,Cortland

Remember friends, they are never too young to learn. 

Rock Chalk Jayhawks!

NYE, Campbell Style

We ended 2011 in true Campbell fashion – dramatic, followed by a trip to the ER.  I’ve got to hand it to my kids – they really know how to make a statement. 

Typically Ryder is the one who ends up in the ER due to his asthma but this time Cortland got to be a part of the action.  And he tops all of Ryder’s trips in the last two years since he had a febrile seizure and a ride in an ambulance.

I am not well versed in seizures since no one I know has ever had one (that I’ve witnessed or was aware of) and therefore did not know that you NEVER put your finger in someone’s mouth when they are having one.  This would have been valuable info for me since my first instinct was to put my finger in Cortland’s mouth to prevent him from swallowing his tongue.     I’m sure the 911 dispatcher thought I was a grade A idiot when I told her, almost in tears, that he was about to bite my finger off.  Clearly I seize all opportunities to look like an dumbass (no pun intended). 

Thankfully, he was just fine and back to his shenanigans by the end of the day.  I, however, may never fully recover from watching him have a seizure and being completely helpless.  For those of you who deal with this regularly, I am truly sorry.  There is nothing worse than feeling helpless when it comes to your children.

2012 has started off on a quiet note, which is fine with me.  However, I’m waiting for something to happen.  Five days in and still, nothing.  Makes me nervous, people.  I know these punks far too well to believe 2012 is going to run this smoothly for long. 

Happy 2012, friends.  I wish you health, joy, laughter and much love.  Remember to appreciate each “season” of your life you are in – one day we’ll all look back and wish we were exactly where we are today. 

XOXO

Lame Excuses

The good news is, I’m not dead (I suppose that depends on who you ask).  The bad news is, I’ve just been lazy and have been avoiding this blog like the plague. 

I’ve missed a few opportunities to post in the last month, okay, almost two months, so here’s a quick recap. 

Zach’s birthday – he’s old.  38 now.  Still four years older than me and I like it like that. 

Thanksgiving – fantastic holiday spent with some of my very favorite people in the whole United States of America. 

Aidan’s birthday – 11 now and growing up entirely too fast for my liking.  Before we know it he’ll be driving and our insurance will have doubled.  Punk.

Christmas – Amazing like every year.  So much fun when you have four punks to celebrate the holiday with.  I totally get how it becomes so much more fun when you become a parent. 

My Mom’s birthday – She would have been 65 today.  She’s missed out on so much since she’s been gone and I will never be the same. 

Emmerson’s losing teeth like she needs the money.  Cortland is into everything and making me lose my mind, up in HERE, up in HERE.  Ryder is wrestling now and that’s just, well, funny.  Aidan is more obsessed with hunting today than he was yesterday and that makes me feel for his future wife.  I feel her pain.  Seriously.  I feel you girl.  Call me, we can shop.

I’d love to report that my house is in better shape than it’s ever been but the truth is our dogs hate our guts and ate part of our carpet in our bedroom.  Sure, we’ve been planning on replacing the 22 year old carpet in there but we haven’t been ready to part with the lovely mauve, quite yet.  On a happier note, I’ve convinced Zach that hardwood is the way to go and I see dark bamboo in my not so distant future.  I love winning. 

I’d also love to tell you that this holiday break was filled with crafts and baking and doing all sorts of neat stay-at-home mom kind of things but that’d be bold face lie.  I did have the kids paint snowmen one day, and I did make chex mix but my plans for cookies, homemade cinnamon rolls and breakfast’s from scratch were just a figment of my imagination.  I did manage to make four kick-ass Christmas ornaments, so that has to count for something, right?  Pinterest has me feeling all crafty.

I haven’t been solving any crimes (which is a shame given my detective skillz), or completely reorganizing my home, or homeschooling my children, or writing my first book.  I wish I could say that I’m totally caught up on Teen Mom 2 and all my Housewives but that hasn’t happened either.  It’s called life and I’ve been living it and my kids have sucked the energy right out of me to do anything at the end of the day. 

I have high hopes for 2012.  I’ve got a list a mile long of things for my husband to do around the house and my resolution list is ridiculous and completely over-zealous.  I like to think that in a matter of days I will wake up and do all of the things I thought about doing this year, all because I made a list. 

I mean, after the hangover is gone and all.

I’m Right. Again.

Sometimes you have to endure a night of pure hell, just to prove you’re right.  At least I do.  Especially when it comes to proving a point to Zach.  Petty?  Perhaps.  But sometimes I need to remind him who’s boss around here.

Last weekend Zach had a friend in town to deer hunt so he spent a nice amount of quality time out where he hunts.  He thought it would be a fantastic idea for the four punks and I to join them on Friday evening.  We’re invited out often but I typically turn down this invitation because being cooped up in a cabin with four punks isn’t usually the most enjoyable way to spend a night. 

Zach wouldn’t give up this time.  Oh no, he talked about how much fun it would be, how the kids would love it,  how I never come out.  So I gave in and loaded up a suburban full of crap, which he felt was a ridiculous amount of stuff to take for one night (uh, hello?  We have four kids.  This is traveling light, pal).  Oh, and three dogs.  Luckily, the cat can survive for a night by herself.

There are a couple of things to keep in mind:  we eat dinner about 6pm every night and the three small punks are in bed by 7:30.  Mama doesn’t screw with this schedule because it works.  And it is awesome. 

Emmerson and Ryder decide that running around, screaming like a couple of crack heads is a perfectly acceptable way to behave when we arrive.  Cortland wants to play his game of push mom and dad as hard as you can so they will pick you up.  When he loses, he only wants to cry.  And scream.  Aidan just wants to talk.  A lot.  In a minute he manages to say “Dad” no less than 30 times.  In typical fashion, the Campbell’s have arrived.

We eat dinner at 8pm.  It’s spaghetti which three of four punks have declared they don’t like.  There are tears and whining and complaining about dinner. 

Finally, it’s time to put the short people to bed.  Emmerson and Ryder  snuggle up to watch a movie (because mama was smart enough to bring the portable DVD player),  Aidan watches hunting with the big guys and I put Cort down for the night.  This would have worked perfectly except there wasn’t a snow balls chance in hell Cort was going to go to bed.  Instead, he screamed, at the top of his little lungs, for 20 minutes straight.  Got him up for a bit, put him back down, more screaming, repeat.  About 10 times.  He finally fell asleep at midnight, in bed with Zach and I. 

Then, because only I could be so lucky, Zach’s alarm went off at 4:30 (so he and Aidan could go hunting) and Cort was up again and there was no putting him back to bed. 

I took advantage of this early morning by loading up the suburban with the endless amount of crap we brought so that when Emmerson and Ryder got up we could get the hell out of there.

It was a tough lesson for Zach to learn (and for me to teach) but I think he finally understands that I really do know best when it comes to our punks. 

And now I have a free pass for whatever it is I don’t want to do, no questions asked.  Winner.