family antics – Turnering Our House Into A Home

It’s a new year. With the same old chaos.

Posted on January 4, 2021January 5, 2021 by Erin Turner

The new year is here! 2020, you don’t have to go home, but you have to get the feck outta here!!!!!!!

As is with most people on this big and beautiful planet, I love the idea of resolutions and goals every year. I am one of those weirdos that looks so forward to the feeling of a “clean slate” and a fresh start. I jump at the chance to try again to be the best version of me that I possibly can! These last few years, I have actually done pretty darn well! (Beachbody anyone?)

So this weekend a bunch of girlfriends/cousins/sisters and I started a new challenge group. A few of us in said group are doing a REALLY tough workout program. Like lots of cussing at the TV and standing there in disbelief and cussing some more and almost crying and/or throwing up tough. But, look. I am in it to win it!

Now, as you can imagine. Working out with four kids is TOUGH. Even if I start at 5am, someone inevitably comes into the basement and ruins my good time. They either need foooood or wiiiiiiiped or loooooove. So annoying.

Yesterday morning was my first day of the new workout, The Work. It started by me turning on the TV and then pausing to yell at my four year old for yelling at my two year old for ruining the obstacle course that actually just looked like a stupid path that I would inevitably have to clean up later. Take a deep breath. Go back to the mat. Hit play.

Not even 2 minutes later…

“HANK! STOP YELLING AT YOUR SISTER!!! SHE IS TWO!!!”

“Mom. She just doesn’t undewstand how hawd I wowk to keep this path clean and special fo hehr!”

“Henry. Quit trying to use my own psychology on me and let her do her thing. Or go upstairs and wake your dad up and demand a bagel because I think you’re hangry.”

And so we went on like that for awhile. I finished my workout. I came upstairs. I showered and as I was leaving for work I hear, “MOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!! I NEED A KISS!!!!!!!!”

“Hank. I gave you a kiss goodbye, honey. I have got to get to work!” “But I need a new ooonnnnne!!” “Okay. Where are you?” “Pooping.” “No.” “MOOOOOOOMMMMM. I will cwy aw day wong!” “Ugh. fine.” I go into the bathroom. I almost throw up because of the smell. And I kiss a grunting, and I mean GRUNTING out his poo, four year old on the lips. I walk to the mudroom, put my shoes back on, grab my purse, put my hand on the door knob to leave and I hear, “MOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!! I NEED A NEW HUUUUGGGGGGG!”

I made it to work on time. Barely.

Now we fast forward to today. Only it’s the oldest that is the antagonist of my workout this time.

First, you must understand that Ricky is my quiet child. He is a bit reserved, especially in the morning. Normally the last one to talk and the first one to pick up a book and sit quietly without me asking.

Not today, mama! So I get into the basement for day 2. I had my preworkout drink. I had my preworkout pep talk to myself. I was ready. About five minutes in, the dog comes down. So I am doing my lunges and staring at the basement door. Who is it going to be? Valerie needing a wipe and a princess dress? Hank needing Avengers Endgame on and chocolate milk? Or… Oh thank GOD! It’s Ricky! He will sit with his book or ipad and let me have some headspace.

Not today, mama! My gosh! The kid talked non-stop! “Mom. Who is the best encourager of your workout?” “Mom. How many minutes until you’re done?” “Mom. Have you ever noticed that all dogs look different like humans do?” “Mom. Do you like dogs or cats better?” “Mom. Did you know that a velociraptor could run 25 miles per hour?” “Mom. What does miles per hour mean?”

And I am answering. Or at least nodding with zero breath left to spare to anything but staying alive. And I am half enjoying this wonderful conversation with my biggest baby. And I am also halfway wishing we could have just had this conversation over breakfast. Even carry it onto the bus stop.

As I am trying my hardest to not fall over nor to ask my son to stop talking to me, he stops me with the following, “Mom. I know what all dogs DO have in common.” “Oh yeah, (deep breath), Ric, (deep breath), ky? What’s that?” “Balls. Big balls. Little balls. Fuzzy balls. Wet balls.” I stare. Trying to get enough oxygen to my brain to explain that not alllllll dogs have balls…

Finally, he says, “They love playing fetch with all sorts of balls.”

I hope this helped to start your week with a smile.

Always, Erin

family antics, Uncategorized

This morning was a doozy…

Posted on December 4, 2020December 4, 2020 by Erin Turner

I should have stayed in bed. But how could I have?? I am responsible for 4 human beings. I have to feed them, clothe them, pray they didn’t lie when they promised they brushed their teeth, but I was changing the baby’s 2nd poopy diaper of the morning already so I was unable to make sure the pearly whites were getting a good scrub. All the fun stuff.

Today. Today was a doozy morning. I woke up at exactly 3:34am to the screaming. Before I even opened my eyes, I knew the tone and pitch of Hank’s wail. More specifically, I knew the tone and pitch of Hank’s bed-wetting-wail. So I did what any great mom does, I threw my blankets over my head and tried not to cry. (HOW DO HUSBANDS SLEEP THROUGH THIS SHIT!?!?!?!) I then got out of bed, calmed down my screaming four year old and walked to the laundry room with him. Here I told him to take off his pants, I grabbed a not too dirty looking towel out of the “to-be-washed” pile and had him rub down his bits and his legs. I then handed him a pair of pajama pants that I 1,000% know that he hates, but I was tired and willing to try my luck.

The wail. The fucking wail. “I DON’T LIKE THESE KINDS OF PAAAAAAAANTS!!!!!! THEY FALL OFF OF MY ANKLES!!!!* AND BESIIIIIIIIDES. I WANT SHOOOORRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTSSSS!!!!!!” I am so good at deep breaths. I am the Gandhi of the Turner household. So I take a deep breath. I try not to screamcrylosemyshit. And I glance at the shelf before me and lo and behold. He has a pair of pajama shorts on his pile. Done. We’ve gotten through the crisis. I tuck him in my bed. I use the bathroom myself because this ENTIRE time I have been shaking like a damn leaf. And then I go and ever so quietly strip his bed. (He shares a room with a brother and a tortoise. Neither of which I wanted to disturb.)

So we lay down. My Dick is still deafly sleeping. My Hank is well on his way. I AM WIDE AWAKE. The last time I look at my watch, it says 4:29am. My alarm went off at 4:55am. D.I.S.M.I.S.S.

Fast forward to 6:51am. I JUMPED out of bed. Almost cracking Hank in the head with my elbow and very close to knocking Valerie onto the floor. Because, SURPRISE! Valerie snuck into my bed too. I run to wake Ricky up because we are never up later than 6:30am. The little shit is sitting at the counter waiting for his Honey Nut Cheerios and watching some nerdy animal documentary on my iPad. So I get everyone’s cereal, milk, COFFEE. And the morning goes relatively smoothly. There were a few bumps, like Georgie sleeping in so he interrupted my coffee and I never got to finish. But so minor it was laughable.

I get Ricky on the bus. Practically skip into the house because I am seriously kicking ass on like 5 hours of sleep. I walk in from the garage, ask Alexa to set an alarm to start my car and I feed Georgie his breakfast. The alarm goes off, I slip on my awesome crocs and I head out to start the van so it can warm up for 15 minutes. I open the door and BOOM.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Where in the actual fuck is my key fob?! Is it not in the purse that I just brought out!? Does a kid have it in the house!? I scramble to turn on the van. It starts. Key fob is IN the van. But not in my purse. Oh. And it’s still going. The beeping that is.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Now what you have to understand is the echo. Our 2 acres butts up to 64 acres of soy bean fields. They can here my beeping like 589 miles away at this point. So here I go, “Hey. St. Anthony? Finder of lost things? It’s me again. Yes, I know this is the third time this morning. But please help a sister out!” And there it was. On the passenger floor. I grab it. Hit ALLLL the buttons and run in the house to make sure the children are alive.

We finish getting Hank ready for school. Bundle the fat baby up. Get our winter coats, hats, boots, gloves, “VAL YOU CANNOT WEAR A SUMMER DRESS OUTSIDE IT IS 26 DEGREES!”, pants and bad attitudes. We go out to the nicely warmed up van. I go to open the back passenger door… frozen shut. I put Georgie’s carseat down and curse my husband for not letting me park in the garage because of his precious camaro. (Don’t even get me started.) I try the sliding door again. Not budging. Okay the other side already works. I was in it a little bit ago. Grab the driver side handle. Pull. Pull again. And drop an eff bomb in front of my kids. (Shocking, I know.)

I locked my fucking keys inside the van!!!!! IDIOT. SO STUPID. I grab everyone. Now we’re all sweating from the struggle and the sun and I won’t let anyone take off any layers yet. Kids are crying, Mom is going insane laughing at herself one minute and trying not to cry the next.

I call the local PD. The dispatcher, class act! She will send someone out as soon as possible. I message the teacher that Henry is going to be super late because Mommy is an idiot. I look over at Valerie and SHE IS IN HER DAMN SUNDRESS AGAIN! I redress her. I text my husband. Said husband calls back and just laughs. And laughs. And laughs.

He then suggests a couple of tricks that I have already tried. But now I have to try again because my knight in shining armor is here to talk me through them. I leave Hank in charge, (seriously may as well leave Georgie in charge), and walk out whilst on the phone with Lancelot. I get up to the van, I hear a weird noise and the phone goes dead. Only it’s not dead. It sounds like Dickie is a million miles away. OOOOHHHH!! He is connected to my bluetooth. So basically, DICK IS IN MY CAR AND I AM NOT!!!!

So. Lord ThinksHeIsHelpful is no help at all. I go back in and Hank comes running that a police officer pulled in the driveway. Mr. Police Officer knocks on the door. I sign the “in case I damage your car it is your dumbass fault for locking your keys in it in the first place” release form. I tell him I will be out in a minute. I get everyone back into their coats and hats and forget the gloves. I am so over it all at this point. I walk out. And the kind young officer hands me my keys. “I can’t believe how easy it was to get into your car just now.”

And that was just my morning. It was a doozy. It was nutso. It was sweaty. But it is funny. Now.

Hope ya’ll had a great Thursday. Remember… you will get through it and you will look back and laugh. There is ALWAYS something to laugh about.

God bless ya’ll.

*when Hank says that his pants “fall off of his ankles” what he means is… he only likes pants with tight cuffs. HAHAHAHAHA.

family antics

From the beginning…

Posted on December 2, 2020December 4, 2020 by Erin Turner

As I have warned you before, I prefer to call my husband, Dick, Dickie, Dickie Boy, or when I am really mad, RICHARD!

My Dick and I were set up on a blind date in April 2011. I would give the exact date, but I always forget it and my husband is not here to remind me. My brother and Dick’s best friend, Patrick, made the whole thing happen. Therefore, we were very leery about the whole thing that was happening. Dickie took to me a Cleveland Indians game. Probably the last time that he ever spent that much money on good tickets. We had the best conversation, he taught me more about baseball than I ever knew. We went to the bar to get drinks afterwards. And then that asshole didn’t call me for TWO DAYS!!!

Fast forward to June 2012. My Dick proposed to me on the most beautiful beach in Oahu, Hawaii. We were there for another one of his best friend’s weddings. It was a total shock. So much so that I too got down on one knee. I don’t know? I guess I thought we were playing a game.

We were married on a hot and humid July 6th of 2013. It was perfect. I never left the dance floor. Dick never left the bar. And we had the best time! (I am kidding. We were, obviously, together quite a bit!)

At the end of August 2013, I found out that I was 4 weeks pregnant. At the beginning of November, November 8th to be exact, I lost the wee one at home. It was the worst night of my life. Of our lives. I’ll talk more about it one day. But for now, let’s keep it fun! (Really quick though! Please know that if you have had a miscarriage, you are not alone. They are more common than you think. And your own pain will not compare to anyone else’s. That being said, I am here if you need to talk about it. Always, always here! I hate that there is still a stigma around something about 10-20% of women go through!)

Moving right along! I had my Ricky in November 2014. Then in June 2016, we sold our tiny condo and moved in with my in laws for the next ten months. Hank was born in October 2016. Our house was finished in April 2017. I had Valerie in May of 2018. And my sweet Georgie B. was just born on March 17, 2020! (Yes, George is a St. Patty’s Day/Pandemic of 2020 baby!! Super special, that one!) We also have a sweet pup, Garth Frances. And a tortoise named Hermie.

These babies are the reason we decided to build our house on a nice little 2 acre slice of Heaven, with a big ole hickory tree watching over our every move. While this is our home already, it was the minute we moved in, we work hard to turn every aspect of it into us. Into our dream home. The veggie garden. The big back porch. The painting. The cleaning. The decorating. The amazing woodworking that My Dick does. And the love and laughter that rings out and echoes on these walls. We won’t stop turnering our house into a home until the day we die. (Kind of morbid. I know.)

So that is us. We are the Turners. We are always evolving. Always changing. Almost always happy. I’m pretty transparent about most things. (My Dick and I are stubborn as mules, so there are some drag outs. But I usually win, so it’s not too bad.) So I will be as open as I can on this blog. But while I am an open book, I also believe that some things are better left unsaid. So I just won’t say them.

Follow me while I turn this house into a home!!!

Always, Erin

Our Babies!!!