Little Drummer Boy

Feeling a little bit like the drummer boy today.

I love that song. Love it. Almost every rendition too.

Have you listned to it recently? The drummer boy has nothing to give the King. Ever feel like that??

I know my posts my seem kinda depressing lately. I'm not depressed. Just busy trying to clean a home, and thinking about my life.

The truth of it is, I am not the drummer boy. I have a rich, rich life... but sometimes we don't think we have it all so good.

My hubby is a Dr. that travels to people's homes to treat them there when they cannot get out to a doctor's office. He has helped so many people, and sometimes in critical moments, like the other day when he walked into a patient's home to find her on the floor. Who knows how long she would've been stuck there, unable to get up or call for help without him walking in on her. He is amazing in our family life too.

Then there is me. Stuck here. In the freezing cold. Attempting to clean a house. With 3-4 kids with me at all times. I offer what again??? I mean, we have learned from older posts that my cleaning skills are not so good apparently....
I'm not out reaching the masses. I have no big fancy public status. I don't have money to change someone's life.

My mind drew a blank. What did I have to offer the King?..... um.... just me. That's all. Maybe there is more that I can't think of, but still, right now, I can't think of something great I can do for the King. Frankly, I'm having a hard time thinking of a small thing I could give Him.

(Yes, yes, I know... raising kids for God is huge, important.... etc, etc. But when you're in the trenches and it feels like they are not 'hearing' you at all sometimes....)

So as I was rockin' around the kitchen this morning while that song played on the radio and I was feeding rice cereal to the baby, I could really relate to that little Drummer Boy.

All I have is me. Thankfully, that - is enough.

'Tis the Reason

I'm guessing you assume that I am talking about the 'reason for the season'. No... not today, but perhaps soon. I am talking about the reason my house is a mess.

It came to me like an epiphany. This is how the morning started:

I woke up with a bunch of motivation to 'get going'. Yea! Mornings are not my thing... so it took me a minute (okay an hour or so...) but by 8:00am I was up and running.

That is when I realized why the house is a disaster. Here is my quest to do laundry and the dishes. Two very basic, everyday chores that must be completed....or so you would hope.

I am dressed, ah.... now to grab the laundry basket in my room to take to the washer..."mom! Can I color on the computer?" No.... I pick up the basket and walk to the stairs.

(Screams from the girl's room) I run to check on them. Everyone is alive. I head back to take the dirty laundry downstairs. I actually get all the way to the laundry room when another child comes running in to say that the baby spit up all over. "I'll get it in a minute...." I casually say. But when they tell me it is up her noise, I decide to run to rescue the babe.

While I am upstairs I realize the babe has also exploded her morning diaper. So I change her. Oops! The diaper pail is overflowing. I go to put the baby in the living room to play and grab a trash bag.

I go into the kitchen to get a trash bag and realize I still haven't packed Alex his school lunch. I yell for him to bring me his lunchbox and unpack it.

I take the trash bag back to the baby's room and start to put it in the pail. The phone rings. It is my husband. He needs the number to (church/a friend/ the bank...). I put the trash bag down and head for the phone book. "Can I call you back?" I ask. The baby is being "moved" by her older sister and this is looking scary.

I scold the older sister for trying to move the baby and my son announces that his backpack is "missing."

Well... you get the point I hope. So, here I wake up with all this motivation and so far in the last hour these are my accomplishments:

Laundry is IN the laundry room, but not started.

I realized I have a lunch to make.

The baby is changed and rescued (twice).

The diaper pail has been emptied, but there is no new bag replaced. Good luck to the next diaper changer.

I am now on a hunt for a backpack - since school starts in 30 minutes.


So... an hour later my house still looks like crud, and some may argue it is even worse off.... At least I realized WHY it looks like this. I never get to finish a single blazing task!!


....Oh my goodness.... I still need to call my hubby back!!

All I want for Christmas.....

Okay, here's the thing: I do like to have a clean house.
I dream about having one. I imagine what a clutter-free, simply organized and tidy house would look like.

I imagine it, because I do not have it.

I have a pile of books (from my son's room) stacked 18 inches high in the livingroom. Why?? Good question. Ask the three little munchkins who put them there late last night for apparently no reason.

I cannot find my fingernail clippers. Generally they are in the bathroom. That is the logical place. But nooo.... that's not where they are now that I have a nail broken down to the base and really need to trim it before it snags every soft piece of material in the house.

In the past I have found muffin tins in the master bathroom. What?? I mean, c'mon kids....!

We have strewn coats, and paper, and socks, and toys in basically every room of the house. (UGH!)

That is just part of having four kids 6 and under I guess. I remember when we just had one little baby in our townhome. The ENTIRE home was model home clean for three weeks at a time. Now I can only manage to get one room clean at a time - EVER.

Ahh.... I say to myself.... the baby nursery is PERFECT. Clean, tidy, organized.
OOP! But wait, don't leave that room!!

The livingroom is clean and beautiful. The doorbell rings. What? You have to use the bathroom? Oh no!! The bathroom is disgusting! Don't go in there.... there is a gas station down the street. Think you can hold it???

The kitchen sees perfect cleanliness less often due the fact it is generally used more than O'Hare airport during the course of a normal day. Forget the days we actually cook. Like yesterday when we decided it would be "fun" to have the three older kids decorate Christmas cookies. Don't get me wrong. A ton of "fun" and memories. But the kitchen looks like something exploded.

Frankly, I'm tired. I'm tired of the pointlessness. I can't STOP cleaning...(obviously) but it would be nice to see a reward for your work. It would be so stinking AWESOME to clean a room and be able to SHOW someone. Before I can sneeze the room is usually torn to bits again. At least that is how it feels.

We have our kids clean their own rooms.... they help with other tasks.... but apparently our 'balance' is still 'off'. Oh well!

For now our master bedroom is less of a peaceful, romantic retreat than it is an obstacle course from bedside to bathroom. (Certainly makes a 2am pee more intersting.)

Does anyone relate? Did I only end up making you feel superior since your own home is so clean?? Do you look down on me now? :) If you can relate- then good. We are not alone. Let's stick together! Moms of messy houses - unite!

I have an idea. I'm gonna post this blog, and maybe, just maybe, see if I can find out what color laminate our kitchen counters are.....

Don't Ask

When baby spit up has a chance to dry on your skin it is sticky. Kinda tacky like.

But, it is not as sticky as when new born baby poop dries on your skin.


Don't ask me how I know these two facts. Just take my word for it.

The Right Place

Kids have a remarkable knack for speaking the truth.

I mean, like when you look like a dork and they tell you straight to your face when no other human would do that to you.

Or when your kids say you look beautiful (and you do) even though you feel like a sloppy loser.

(Have you ever had your kids walk in on you while undressing or changing your clothes and start laughing at your "funny wrinkly" tummy??? - Yeah... well kid - YOU made it all wrinkly....)

Anyway, the other night we were setting up the Christmas tree. We put the fake metal branches into the metal tree stand. We put the blinking multi-colored lights on the tree. We put the numerous non-matching, but quite sentimental, ornaments on the branches. I put on velvet cream bows in hopes of "tying it all together". Then we put the tree skirts below. (Yes, we have two this year. One thanks to my sister in law and one because of my son. One tree, two skirts...)

So, the tree was finished and standing there, blinking lights in all it's glory. Our six year old son was the only one left in the room with my husband and I after putting the younger girls to bed. The room was tidy other than the nativity scene which sat in the middle of the floor. Alex went over to it and put it on the tree skirt under the tree.

Immediately I said, "That's not where that goes, Alex. We will find a place for it though...."

Actually, that is exactly where it should go, right?? You are supposed to put gifts under the tree. And Jesus coming to this earth is the greatest gift of all time. He came, He died for you and me, and then He rose from the grave to reign in Heaven. He lives in our hearts today because he came to earth in that tiny, dirty manger.

Perhaps once again my child has spoken the truth in a way adults can't. Perhaps we have just started a new tradition in our home. Either way, my eyes and heart saw something in a new light the other night. Thanks for speaking the truth kiddo!

"Not In This House"

Okay, so when you become a parent, you begin to discuss things and say sentences you never would have otherwise. For instance - dirty diapers and potty training escapades are "okay" dinner party conversation.

You find yourself saying things like "No Susie, we don't use toilet water for our play teapot".

Or in a public bathroom your toddler may praise you loudly, "Good job going pee-pee Mommy!"

Or another all-time favorite public restroom conversation, "Mama, how come you don't have a penis like Daddy???" (This is usually said loud enough that the little old lady four stalls down from you begins to faint.

Here is the latest I-only-said-this-out-loud-because-I'm-a-parent scenario:
I enter our livingroom and hear our 4 and 3 year old girls talking in the adjacent bedroom. Our four year old is laying on her bed while the 3 year old is standing on the bed over her. These are the words that filter out to my ears - "Okay", says the 4 yr old laying down, "now I be the toilet and you pee on me."

Heavens to Betsy!!
I of course rush into the room to see the standing 3 year old (who was only just potty-trained in the last two months and hence the origin of this particular make-believe) start to pull her pants down over her rear as she locks eyes with me.

I say quite matter of factly "We do NOT play toilet in this house young lady. Do you understand me??"

Thankfully no one actually pottied. (I knew this, but thought I'd clear it up for you....) And my daughter thoughtfully clarified the situtation. "Mommmm.... we're just 'tending!"

And... so another entry in the book of 'things I never thought I'd say out loud".

November 30

So, it is a big day here in the DeMoss household. Our two youngest have reached another milestone in their lives.



Our third born, Avalon, or Avi Joy as we like to call her, turns 3 today! How did the last three years fly by so fast?!? I remember the hospital nursery returning her to us because she was 'disturbing the other babies' like it was yesterday. I remember bringing her home from the hospital and having her blood-curling infant scream each night between 8-11pm. (She was our toughest ever baby, but she is a now darling child.)
Last year when she turned two she became my comic relief. I remember thinking our first born was funny. I was wrong. He is not half as funny as Avalon. She is the crack up of the family. I mean - hilarious. She surprises me. Where does she get half this stuff??? Her comedic material is unusual, never ending, and entertaining.
Now she is three. Wow. Potty trained. Dresses herself. Learning to make her bed. Brushes her teeth, and copies every little word her big bro and sis say.
I look forward to her new year and the many ways I know she will entertain me!



Talia Rose - our fourth born and third girl - turns 7 months old today. She is pure delight. We marvel everyday at what a happy, pleasing, and sweet baby she is. I guess you have to be a content, easy-going person to be fourth born in 5.5 years! She started rolling over at two months old. That had me worried, but thankfully that is as far as her 'skills' go for now. She doesn't sit on her own or crawl yet and I'm okay with that. She rolls all over the room and that is enough to keep up with when the older siblings have legos, Barbie shoes, and crayons on the floor! :)


So, here's to you, today, my Avi-Joy and Talia Rose! We love you and are so glad you are in our lives! We are all richer because of it!