Phone Gremlins

I know I’m not the only parent whose children absolutely meltdown when a phone call happens right? Like complete and utter chaos from the time you hit send, to the actual phone call in which you have to juggle maddeningly misbehaving children with actually holding a conversation, to the end when you rush to say goodbye and get off the phone only to see your kids return to doing whatever it was they were occupied with in the first place that made you think you could actually make the phone call?!?

Phone gremlins. It’s got to be.  I’m telling you something shoots out that possesses your kid

Earlier today, the boys were happily watching Sesame Street and I foolishly thought that would be a good time to call around to salons for prices. Ha! Rookie mistake. As soon as I connected with a receptionist, Adam started following me around flapping his arms and making demands for PB&J. I shushed him pretty quickly and had him scoot back into the living room to wait for his sandwich. (In his defense I did promise him a PB&J. He was nice to calm himself so quickly.)

I thought I was out of the woods but really Adam was the warm-up act for Owen. He pulled a dining room chair out, leaned over the back, causing it to tip over, and caught his fingers between the chair and the piano. So the lovely woman on the phone got to listen to absolute chaos as I rushed over to free the screaming baby from his predicament and try to calm the scared/hurt crying while still trying to get information.

I just checked my phone log  the whole call took less than three minutes. The boys went from being awesome, to gremlins, back to calm and collected.

Luckily the woman understood. She said the whole scenario sounded only too familiar from when her kids were young. So if you have to make a phone call anytime soon, solidarity friend.


Welcome to Tricia’s House of Germy Horrors

This is what Owen looks like right now:


He woke up last night to vomit in such weird places that I’m still trying to figure out what exactly went down. It was in the curtain a couple feet above his head, the wall down by his feet, and scattered to the four corners of his bed.

Mike and I cleaned him up and put him back to bed with towels for sheets because we were convinced this wasn’t over. I had a day-long throw up marathon on Saturday and Mike had the same thing last weekend.

Luckily we escaped anymore cleanup from Owen and despite being a little cranky today he’s had an appetite and wanted to play.

All of this is just a few of the many illnesses all four of us have had in the last month. Some kind of germ factory has settled in and refused to leave us. Every type of bad we can feel has been felt. Poor Adam has missed five days of school in four weeks.

This is what he looks like now, by the way.


The picture of patience, helped along by copious snacks and cartoons.

There have been a few pockets of warm weather so far this year and it’s made this winter bearable. The germs though. They have me yearning for a hot, insect filled summer just so we can be DONE with this already. I’d gladly trade those bugs for these bugs.

The Overlooked Veteran

In honor of Veteran’s Day tomorrow, I saw an ad offering a great discount to active duty military and retired veterans. The only problem is, I don’t fall into either of those categories. I separated from the military after 8 years of service. The people that fall into this category don’t have the ID that retirees get after serving twenty years, and we get none of the privileges, such as getting onto base to shop. It’s really hard to prove you’re a veteran when you’re separated because I don’t carry a copy of my separation paperwork around with me in my wallet. (Although perhaps I should start.)

I often wonder if people who aren’t affiliated with the military are aware that this section of veterans exists at all. We served, but left honorably before the twenty year mark. There are a lot of us out there, and I wish it was as easy to prove that we served as if we had retired from our branch. Perhaps when someone says “retired”, they group us in? I don’t know. Either way, it’s something that’s nibbled away at me since I left the military. No I’m not active duty, or retired. But I’m still a veteran.

I know. I was adorable right?

Happy Veteran’s day to friends and family that are serving, retired, and separated!

Toddlers: They’re Gross

Scene: the Williamson living room, bedtime. All things are calm, clean, babies are so close to sleep I can taste it. Putting the kids to bed alone is going to be a piece of cake.

And then Owen threw up chocolate milk and tater tots onto my carpet (mere inches away from the hardwood where this would be a 5 minute clean-up operation) and my hopes of a couple solo hours before bed were dashed.

Scene: the Williamson kitchen, morning. All things once again calm and clean. I’m making a lovely lunch while the children play.

And then I hear splashing coming from the bathroom and find Owen going to town in a toilet that hasn’t been flushed. The child is placed into a bathtub and vigorously scrubbed. Twice.

Scene: back to the Williamson living room. Lunch has been administered, and then I find that the chocolate milk stain on the carpet has come back up. So I’m down on the floor scrubbing it with a Little Green Clean Machine. I’ve gotten here by climbing up ladders, collecting parts of the machine, and then spilling the cleaning solution all over me and the laundry room. Yay more cleanup!

At the same time I’m answering questions coming out of Adam’s mouth faster than an auctioneer (Yes, buddy sometimes someone’s tummy gets upset and their food explodes out of their mouth. Yes, buddy, it’s gross.) I’m also elbowing Owen out of the way while he tries to covertly breach any and all off-limits areas. At one point he dove over my shoulder! The kid is diabolical.

I now have to clean an inch of muddy milk/water out of my machine.

The moral of this story? Just plastic wrap your whole house and install a drain so you can hose the place off. I’d say until they’re old enough to clean up after themselves but I know a mother of teenage boys that would argue for keeping it until they move out.

I’m going to go bleach myself now.

Owen Has Left The Building (temporarily)

About a month ago Owen started sleeping through the night. Once we figured out it was a pretty permanent thing, he got to go visit his grandparents and stay overnight! Not having him here was…weird. And it’s remarkable how quiet the house gets when just one of the boys is gone!

Mike, Adam, and I all ran errands and then went to lunch together. Everything was pretty chill and not stressful at all! Barely needing to coral Adam, then playing the games on the children’s menu was pretty awesome. I see it as a preview for when Owen is his age and I can expect them to be mostly normal little humans instead of ticking time bomb toddlers.

Spending one-on-one time with Adam at home was great too. Mike let him help clean up his car, and I took a nap with him. Our choice of activity really shows off our personality well!

He’s also perfecting his photography skills. There are about 25 of these pictures because he holds the button down.


When Owen’s grandma bought him back we hugged and kissed and were super happy to see each other, and then he sat down for dinner number two. He’s got a hollow leg, that one.

This morning I got the best cuddles when he woke up. He missed me, even if he still won’t say my name.img_2429

I can’t believe how big this guy is. Everything Adam does he MUST DO NOW.


I’m glad that introduces good habits like teeth brushing too. (His messed up face is a case of baby vs driveway. The driveway won.)

We can’t wait for Halloween. Adam got to pick his own costume this year and he hasn’t wavered on what he wants to be. I totally expected him to but he answers the same thing every time someone asks him. So expect a post on that shortly after! Until then, I’m going to go put Adam in his bed for the billionth time. His mouth says, “not sleepy” but his tantrums say, “OMG put him to bed!!!”






I’m not sure how one goes about starting to write again after a year off, but I’m going to try anyway.

We’ll call this Wild Williamsons 2.0. I’m not the mom to a newborn anymore. I’ve got two full blown human beings on my hand now. They walk and talk and communicate and are so. much. FUN.

An update on each of us:

Mike is still working his butt off to provide for us, then comes home and hangs out with the kids and is generally awesome. He also took up running again and is really good at it.

I’m still at home with the kids, and joined the gym again. I’m also taking a weaving class on Tuesday nights and I’ll show off my fabulously beautiful scarf I’m weaving after it’s done.

Adam is in preschool two days a week. It’s a play based preschool and he absolutely loves it. One of his teachers is my neighbor and friend so that’s pretty amazing too. He goes to school and gets dirty and tired and has a ball. He’s wicked smart, can name all the planets, and would live in water if we let him.

Owen is turning into an amazing little mischievous ham. He’s goofy, loves food, asks to be wrapped, and has been weaned for about two weeks now. He loves his family fiercely, is skeptical of anyone else, and gives the best hugs ever. If you’re ever on the receiving end of one get ready for the hug of your life.

Like I said, I don’t have babies anymore. I’ve got KIDS.

This only scratches the surface of us right now. I’ll write more, I promise. Here’s a sampling of pictures to hold you over.

I’ve missed this. I’ll be back soon.

When Things Fail Spectacularly

What. A. DAY. What a day! Or afternoon is more accurate.

All was well at first. Kids were being good, I was getting some chores done, we were fine. Then Owen started getting into the laundry so I walked over to get a wrap so I could put him up and get it all finished. While I was prepping the wrap I look over and Owen is flat on his face in the kitchen. Then he looks up at me and-blood. He’d hit something on his mouth.

At first I thought he had just broken his lip open, but nope. The top tooth that erupted THREE days ago was barely visible. It was bleeding too. Ugh. After a panicked call to Mike who tells me to call the doctor (because I was panicking and not thinking right), I called the doc. They said, “Uhhhhh call a dentist”. The first dentist said something along the lines of, that sucks. Call a pediatric dentist.

The third call was a lifesaver. “Come on in!” they told me.

Great! So I got the kids dressed, dabbed some more blood off Owen’s face and left.

Well we tried to leave. As I was backing out of the driveway I was playing with Adam and making him giggle. All of a sudden he starts to vomit everywhere!! So he starts screaming, which makes Owen cry harder! I’m now in full head is spinning mode. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say my coping skills have not developed fully as a mother because I did not handle it well. Like at all.

I went to make sure Adam was ok and was greeted with another eruption of vomit and even more high pitched screaming. So I get back into the garage and start to strip Adam down because he’s going STRAIGHT to the bath. It’s 30 degrees out today so the poor thing was freezing. I tell him to get inside so I can get Owen out. They’re both still screaming by the way.

I had to call the dentist back and I think I pushed the wrong button because someone answered who had no idea why I screamed, “We’re not coming!!” into the phone while children cried all around, and then hung up.

So up the stairs we went. Adam got a scrub down while I tried to keep Owen from getting into the toilet, trash can, and cupboards. At least they both calmed down by that point. It only then dawned on me that Adam woke up from his nap writhing like something was bothering him but couldn’t articulate what it was. I’m gonna guess his stomach hurt.

After I got him out of the bath things got better. Mike showed up, helped me with the vomit covered car seat, and is now on a quest to get the best breadsticks ever while I make spaghetti for dinner with Adam while Owen naps. Dentist appointment has been rescheduled for tomorrow morning. He was gracious enough to let me take a picture of Owen’s mouth to make sure it didn’t warrant an immediate visit tonight. It didn’t.

I’m going to leave this picture here. Because that’s what my hair looked like by the end of this ordeal, and I was laughing to keep from crying. I need a drink. Or a nap. Either or.