Just a day in the life...

Did you just take that off the rack?

2012-01-25T16:17:00.000-08:00

Okay. So I work in retail. We know that. It can be fun and I get a decent discount. But I must say....people are darn right rude! Not that I didn't realize that previously, but it sort of smacks a person in the face when it's right there in front of you. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt. I like to believe either that they have not been schooled in certain things or are just oblivious to everything except for themselves. Amazingly, the average person seems not to know the etiquette of retail shopping. And some of you don't even realize there is such thing as etiquette. It's really just common courtesy but we will refer to it as etiquette. Read on. You might learn something about yourself.

First:

Don't hang out near the front door inside the store and have a party with your friends. That's annoying. Also, do NOT keep coming in and out of the store. There is a sensor located at the door that counts the customers coming in and you will mess up the conversion. Don't ask what that is. I am not going into it. Just don't linger.

Second:

When you need a specific size please do not search through the neat pile of clothes as if you are digging through your pile of dirty laundry to find something to wear. People who work at that particular store fold those clothes into nice neat piles so the store looks nice for you when you come in. They get very irritated when some jack ass comes along and completely messes it up. I am not talking about a few shirts out of place, I am talking about pulling the whole pile apart. Although we may smile at you and say 'that's okay!' It really isn't so quit it. Keep it neat folks the sales people are not your maids.

Third:

If you must bring your precious children in the store please keep them close and do not allow them to run wild and free in the store. It isn't cute. You may love your child and think he/she is the greatest thing ever and they very well may be, but we do not think they are cute when they are causing a scene. Keep an eye on them and if they get loud for a long period of time, step outside. It's the one time we won't mind if you go out and come in. Bring duct tape if you must shop with an irate child. And please don't allow them to lick the mirrors. Also,keep the older ones out of the window display. You think I jest but I have seen it happen all the while the parent did nothing. The sales people are not allowed to use the duct tape.

We are are not your babysitters.

Fourth:

This is for all you men. If you are shopping with your female companion at a women's clothing store please do not follow her into the wardrobe room. Stay out! Think of it as an invisible line that men must not cross. Your girl might think it's terrible sweet of you to come along with her to shop but we both know why you are there. You might be trying extremely hard to impress her because it's been a week since you last shagged her and you think it's going to get you 'some' but please stop with the buttering up when you get to the dressing room door. Your significant other might like that you are in the dressing room, but most women taking their clothes off behind a mere curtain do not like to hear the voice of a strange man inches away while they are half naked. It makes them uncomfortable. Who knows what is going on in there. If you and your significant other like that sort of thing, there is a name for that; it's the Mile High Club. Take her on a vacation.

Fifth:

This is also a tip on dressing room etiquette. We like it when you hang things back on hangers. Just don't put them on the hangers inside-out. That. Is. Stupid. You are not helping anyone and only making yourself look dumb. We often wonder about people like you. We think you are either stupid or rude. Neither is a good impression. Also, it's nice if you button things. It's easier on everyone if you just slip the button-up sweater or blouse on over your head. We hate buttoning all those buttons. It makes us happy when we don't have to button the 9 cardigans you tried on and left on the dressing room floor in a pile.

Sixth:

If a sales person brings out a rack of clothes that are neatly arranged on the rack, he/she is probably putting them back on the sales floor. Please do not get all excited and shop from that rack and especially do not take clothes off of it and put it back in a different spot on the rack. The clothing is probably sorted by zones which makes it easy for the sales person to put it back. If you need something just ask. Even if we say 'it's okay', it's not. Don't do it.

I bet you didn't realize there were so many annoying things you could do while shopping.

I'm not finished.

Seventh:

Don't come to the cash register unless you are ready to pay for your things. We and other customers do not want to wait for you to pick which of the twenty items you have piled in front of you, especially if there is a long line at the register. Even if we say: "It's okay!" It's not. You are not the only customer in line. Be considerate of others.

Eighth:

If you drop something, pick it up and quit shoving the things you decided not to buy in the wrong place! Also, if you try clothes on while on the sales floor do so, but please do not leave empty hangers and clothes around as if you are changing in your own bedroom.

Ninth:

Be nice. We are people too.

There are probably more, but for now, keep these things in mind next time you decide to leave a pile of clothes in the dressing room.

It's a Pasty Thing

2012-01-09T19:06:00.000-08:00

The first time I experienced the joy of a pasty was when I was first dating Michael. It was on one of our visits to Texas. His Nana made fabulous pastys (his mom too, but my first pasty was made by Nana). Everyone seemed to be making a big deal of these pastys. What the hell was a pasty! I wondered. As they explained them to me I responded with: "Like a pot pie?" I am pretty sure that did not go over well as everyone seemed appalled, especially Michael. That was my first faux pau. I am surprised he made the trip back to our home in California with me.

When the pasty was set in front of me I had silently changed my mind from the idea of a pot pie to a calzone. My second faux pau was attempting to eat the pasty with a fork. I mean come on people! I was using my manners! When you first meet your boyfriends family shouldn't that be a priority? To display good manners? His family was kind and showed me the way, although I suspect I was not earning any brownie points there. They take their pastys very seriously! All I can tell you is that the pasty was delious! Sooo good! Even when eaten the wrong way.

Now that I am married to Michael and have been for 10 years I thought it was high time I learned how to make a pasty. I admit. I was afraid. It seemed an impossible task. I could never measure up to the pasty gods.

So grab a beer, have a seat and go with me down pasty lane. I
am no Pioneer Woman but this might be fun!

The ingredients....

First, you must always wash your hands before cooking. Of course your untensils should be clean as well. Wiping your cutting knife on your jeans in-between ingredients does not mean it is clean, unless you live in the backwoods and your name is Billy Bob or Herbert "Cowboy" Coward. In that case, swipe away but stay on your side of the kitchen and please stay away from the children.

First, I attempted to make the dough. To make ten pastys it takes a lot of flour! I decided to make the dough for five pastys instead of ten at once. Seriously, I don't own a bowl large enough to make dough for all ten pastys at once. That's almost a whole bag of flour! Hey! How do you like my hat? Very chef-y like wouldn't ya say?

Things didn't go as planned.

I made this:

I could plaster the wall with this stuff. After getting over the frustration of my error I ventured onward. I went with portion control, only making one pasty dough ball at a time. Went much easier.

Hubby helped by cutting all the meat. What a wonderful guy his is. And such nice hands.

I finished making the dough and placed the balls on a plate in the frig. Look at those perfect balls...

Then I took a 10 mile break...

Okay, so on to chopping vegetables, I was running out of time. Pun intended.

Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop

Chop Chop My arm is getting sore. Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Maybe I should sit down. Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop I think I need another beer Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop

Chop Chop Chop Chop This is a lot of chopping. Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Almost finished. Just have the rutabagas left Chop Chop Chop Chop....

Have you ever tried to cut into a rutabaga? I would have used an ax if I owned one. Instead, I came close to snapping off the blade of the barely qualified knife I did have. I think I saw my arm muscles tone up.

Ahhhh all the chop, chop, chopping is finished. Oh snap! (or insert your own expletive here). By the time the chopping was complete it was almost six o'clock. There was no way these pastys were going to be finished by the appointed dinner time. The children would have declared mutiny on mommy if had moved forward with the plan of having pastys for Saturday night dinner. After consulting with hubby we decided to cook the pastys for Sunday dinner. For Saturday it was hot dogs, green beans and apple sauce. Hey, I am not up for mother of the year award here. I would settle for 'has four kids and only 5 gray hairs' award.

Oh, uhhh how that pic get in here?

Day II:

I will admit that I did begin to say a little prayer at church that morning asking for pastys that were edible. Then I thought better of it as God probably had more important things to deal with than my pasty fears. Yes I was intimidated by pastys. After that whole thing with the mushy flour mess I pictured rock hard pasty shells. I feared I would have to serve them with a hammer and a chisel.

The beginning of my first pasty. The rolling went easy. So far so good:

Putting it together:
If you are one of those people who get squirmy about raw meat...

look away now!

Here...I will give you time to flee...

My first pasty!!!
It was quite large, but no holes in the dough!

Baking time!!
I put them in individual tins so they would all fit in the oven.

Doesn't that look nice?

Hubby cuts into his.
I think I see anticipation in his eyes.

Then he helps Elijah with his.

Delicious!

I have made pastys and I didn't screw it up. Am pretty proud. Yay! (Pats self on back)

So if you are ever invited to someone's house for this wonderful thing called a pasty you are in for a treat. And remember, cut it in half, slap some butter on it, pick it up with your hand, take a bite and enjoy. You might even impress the host by requesting a beer to drink with your pasty. Just whatever you do, do not compare it to a pot pie.

It is NOT a pot pie!

Thank you to Nana and Chris for all of your helpful advice during this process.

And yes Chris the first pasty was huge and probably weighed 10 lbs!

Burning down the house

2011-07-08T14:31:00.000-07:00

I could probably come up with many titles for this blog but will refrain from sharing my thoughts on those.

What I am about to share is a very serious issue. It deals with fire safety. And while it may amuse you as it did me....let us not forget the seriousness of playing with fire. Take note and do not as we do unless you have a fire extinquisher nearby.

Last night after the children were all snug in their beds hubby and I enjoyed a few glasses of fine wine together.  Our ten year anniversay is fast approaching and we wanted to spend time together. It's rare that we have those quiet moments together. We lit candles while we talked and laughed about our interesting and wonderful life.

As the night grew late we moved our conversation to another room bringing the candles along. I will skip over certain details as that, quite frankly is none of your beeswax!

There was a moment when all hell broke loose.  That's when I heard Michaels voice:

"It's on fire!" And he was not talking about our love.

A pillow had caught on fire from the lit candles. Michael attempted to smack the flames out and was getting nowhere. There was a lot of exclaimations and cursing during those moments. That damn pillow was was not made of fire resistant material.   We threw the flaming pillow into the bathtub, turning the water onto it extinquishing the fire.

That was not it...

"Oh crap! The curtains on fire!" Michael yelled jumping over the bed to try and extinquish those flames. While trying to put out the pillow the curtain had caught on fire. The flames were not going out! I ran back to the bathroom and grabbed a cup of water and threw water on the curtain putting out that fire.

You would think that was the end of it, but..............

When I turned back to the bathroom to bring the cup back into the bathroom I noticed that the shower curtain was on fire! "Holy Crap! The shower curtains on fire!" Again that damned pillow had spread another fire. I began smacking the shower curtain to put out the flames, the burning material sticking to my hand leaving blisters. I finally put out the the flaming shower curtain.

At this point Michael and I were laughing our butts off. We simply looked at each other with a "What the hell just happened?" expression and burst out laughing.   It was a wonder we didn't burn the house down.

That NON- fire resistant pillow:

Guess that's why they call me Hotgirl. :)

It's 9 degrees outside. Do you know where your kids are?

2011-01-15T07:47:00.000-08:00

This morning, while walking lopsided towards me Sam declares that she has something sticking out of her butt. That girl needs a change. While changing her she informs me of what is her butt and what is her hoohoo and what comes out of each place. I listen smiling, thinking how very cute she is and how I must start potty training her again. I am hoping she is ready. Could be that I wasn't ready. It seems I forget the rules and tips for potty training with every child and I must read up on the subject to refresh my memory. The first child took months to train. We conjoled him with a potty box, m&ms and various other treats to get him to go but of course it was on his terms that he finally got it.

The second and third child seemed to go smoother with only a few accidents.

They say girls are easier. Not sure if that one is true. At least not with Sam. She is quite strong headed, but I think I can convince her. It might take a few m&ms and treats...

SNOW!!

If you haven't noticed I changed the subject.

The snow has been a blessing here in our new igloo....er home. The hill out back is inviting to not just our kids but every kid in the neighborhood so making new friends has been easy for the boys, although there were a few bumps along the way. Like the day some kids decided to block the entrance to the tennis court telling the boys they could not play in there. Elijah being Elijah just walked right through the group not a care in the world and headed straight for the ice patch to slide on. Gabe was not far behind. They have not had any problems since. Safety in numbers.

Yes I was watching from the window. It's my mom duty.

I hope I don't see myself on that Walmart website

2010-08-06T20:43:00.000-07:00

Summer vacation has been going splendid with a few minor speed bumps along the way. Literally and figuratively.

Just the other day I decided that we would stop off at Walmart on the way home from the childrens museum. You know, just stop off. For a minute. With 4 kids and a grandma that did not know what was in store. I have told Chris about these moments but felt it was time that she got to experience it for herself. Sort of like a a ya ya sisterhood thing. Ha! More like the 'Ha ha! Welcome to my hood!' thing.

From the moment the van stopped and the adults stepped out the kids were disgruntled and wondering why we were in the parking lot of Walmart, although by their grumbling and refusal to undo their seatbelts I knew that they knew why we were here; shopping! This first sign should have been my first clue. I should have jumped in the van, revved the engine and took off waving and shouting back to Chris that she was on her own, but I had pity and stayed. She is my mother in law after all and we were staying at her house.

Samantha was happy enough sitting in the cart. Spencer was sulky and so remained quiet but visible unhappy while Gabriel and Elijah fought over who was going to pick a pineapple. According to some child experts I should have had a list and a clipboard for each child so they could each pick their appointed items. Yeah right! Not THIS day. The kids would fight over who got what and "why does he get to pick the pineapple? "I wanted to! I want HIS list!" A mother knows her children and this only works with docile children.

At one point I looked over at Chris and was certain that I saw in her eyes a flicker of the flight response. I know she must have been dreaming about ice clinking in a glass.

After all of the loud bickering over who got to go get what for me, Elijah laying on the bottom of the cart, Samantha yelling to get out of the cart Chris secured a short check-out lane and I made my way over to it. Well sort of. First I rolled the cart over Spencers toe. He was wearing flip flops. As he hops on one foot yelling that I ran over his foot I ask him if he is okay. He is not having a good experience here. He doesn't answer me but puts on his flip flops, which is my cue to start rolling that cart toward the short line before our spot is taken.

At the check-out lane it seems that all heck is breaking loose. The poor cashier does not know what to think of the madness happening around her. Some of the kids are sitting on the floor with those bleeping, noisy toys Walmart puts near the check-outs in an effort to force parents to spend more money. Nice try marketing people of Walmart! Those little toys keep the kids mildly occupied until I tell them it's time to go and then they shove them back onto the shelve not so neatly. I am not even sure if the toys still work after that. Again, Elijah stuffing himself into the bottom of the cart giving no way for Chris to move the cart forward to allow the next person in line to start putting their things on the conveyer.

This is the moment when my brain went into crazy mode. Smoke must have been coming out of my ears as I grabbed arms and hands and made one kid stand with his hands on the counter, one kid stand near the bagging area, another child is stationed near me and Samantha went back into the cart. I am sure at that moment I heard the sound of harps or maybe it was the sound of a bottle top getting cracked open. Yeah, I think that is what the sound was, because we still had to go to Whataburger. And that is another story for another day.

A brief conversation with a 6 year old

2010-07-21T21:18:00.000-07:00

"Mom I'm cold."

"Cover up then."

A minute passes

"Mom. I'm hot."

"Take off your covers. Go to sleep".

Another minute passes

"Mom, my butt itches"

"What?"

"My butt itches!"

"Then scratch it"

"It itches!"

"Go wipe"

"It's itchy!"

"What do you want me to do about it? I am not going to scratch your butt for you".

"My foot!"

"Oh. Well. Then scratch it. And go to sleep. It's late."

Elijah at Suzens

Deciding who has the biggest radish

Gabe picks a radish

Boys will be boys

Another example...

Classic

Some pics taken by Suz. Thanks!

It's Summer Somewhere

2009-10-15T10:48:00.000-07:00

As everyone knows autumn is in full swing, at least in my neck of the woods or should I say neck of the zoo as I do live in a zoo here with my ~~4 lovely monkeys~~ and very loving hubby.

I have a very picky 5 year old boy. He doesn't like anything that zips, buttons or snaps. He insists on wearing only one particular brand of socks. Of course he often runs out of clean socks as he throws the dirty ones into the shoe closet with his shoes and I don't find them until they have multiplied into 10 pairs and I have already washed the whites. He is then forced to wear other socks which brings on another tug of war.

And there is one more thing.

My soon to be 6 year old is doing it again. At first I thought it was due to living for 3 years in the tropics, but am now convinced it must be something else. He does not do well transitioning from summer to autumn.

Tuesday morning the temp was fifty eight degrees and raining. The boy insisted on wearing shorts and a tee-shirt with no jacket. I feared a call from his teacher inquiring why I allowed my child to leave the house wearing clothes only fit for those living in Florida. I had flashbacks of my days as a youth in the winter months in the midwest, walking to school with wet hair, my ears beet red, freezing my butt off, but never putting on a hat as it would mess up my hair. Maybe he has too many of my genes.

I thought I would fix the problem by taking all of his shorts out of his drawer and stowing them away. He cried and sat on the floor as if waiting for me to replace them with new ones. What? You aren't going to let me wear shorts? I explained to him that when the weather gets cooler he must put away his summer things and move into fall. He seemed to understand. I told him that when he is at home he can wear shorts.

Yesterday it was again cool weather. After returning from school the 5 year old ran upstairs then came back down standing before me in his underwear, looking at me as if I was supposed to understand. I asked him why he was in his skivies. He reminded me that I had told him he could wear shorts at home. I held to my statement and gave him shorts to wear. He then ran barefooted to the back door, opened it and ran outside to play.

I think he may be part polar bear.

I change my earlier statement. I live with 3 monkeys, 1 polar bear and 1 loving husband.

The bug has landed

2009-10-07T11:00:00.001-07:00

Today.

What a day.

I think the kids ate crabby for breakfast. Either that or there must be a crabby bug going around. One that makes kids extra cranky and defiant or bicker with each other more than usual. I think a nasty bug flew into the house this morning when I opened the door to bring out the trash. It then proceeded to bite a few of the children, although I won't know for sure how many until the older two get home from school.

"Okay guys! It's time to pick up the toys so we can read books! Come on! Let's clean up!" I said in a sing songy voice. It's supposed to make the kids think cleaning up is fun. It never really does. It's a scam.

"Ugh! Grrrrrr....growl.....whine.....whine....whine.....I don't waaaaant toooooo!" says my son as he crawls away from the lego mess. Even a little kind coaxing doesn't budge him. Extreme measures are in order. Sitting in a chair for 4 minutes is not punishment for him anymore.

"Get up and pick up those legos!" The tone in my voice is no longer the nice sing songy, but rather mommy-is-losing-her-patience voice. Still, he refuses to help pick up. With the day I have had he is pushing the wrong person.

Later, after the duplo lego storm of the century and just as my 1 year old daughter decides to climb up onto the kitchen table while I am fixing lunch, I hear a crash coming down the stairs. Something has spilled. As I scoop up Samantha I quickly go to investigate and find my son standing near the bottom of the stairs looking down at a once full bin of small legos spilled onto the stairs. He has a crushed looked on his face.

"Didn't I tell you that you could not bring the legos downstairs?" I ask him. He just looks at me. "Pick them up please." I take Sam and go into the kitchen lest I burn lunch.

I drop an egg in between the cabinet and the refrigerator.

I slam my shin on a small kids chair that Sam has pulled up to the counter and is standing on.

Meanwhile, Gabe is still 'picking' up. His method of picking up is to sit on the floor and look at all of the legos strewn about. I think my head is going to explode. If he doesn't get them picked up Sam is sure to get into them and that could be a problem as most anyone who has children knows that small legos are a choking hazard.

Even if a lego did make it past Sam's esophagus and into her stomach I surely did not want to take her to the ER. They may wonder what I am feeding these kids. The staff would probably greet me by name and ask if the quarter has dropped.

Flashback to that one Mother's day and the Elijah quarter... That Mother's Day

Naptime has come and is now nearing to a close. I can only hope that the bugs' venom or whatever it's called-has gone through their system.

If you don't hear from me for a while I am most likely drunk or locked up in a padded room.

Decadent Chocolate Eclair

2009-09-24T11:30:00.000-07:00

Naptime...it's not just for kids.

Ten minute snoozers are perfect pick ups.

Eating 3 brownies is not.

I indulged. I should never have made those brown delights. I even slathered some left-over chocolate frosting on top. I have fallen and I cannot get up! Guess in my mind I believe that because I ran ten miles the other day that I can now eat anything I want.

Nope! Nada! No brain, that is not how it works.

The next step is to get rid of the fat. FAT BE GONE!! If only it were that easy.

Oh joy. I can hear the brownies in the other room. "Psst! come have another one! You have room in your tummy and we are oh so goooooood!"

Here.

Make these so I don't have to be the only one:

Decadent Chocolate Elair

1 box graham crackers
3 1/2 c. milk
2 sm. boxes French Vanilla instant pudding Mix
8 oz. Cool Whip

Chocolate Topping:
1c. Sugar
1/4 c. milk
1/3 c. cocoa
1 tsp. vanilla
1 stick margarine

Line bottom of 9x13-inch pan with whole graham crakers in single layer, set aside. To prepare pudding mixture, blend 2 boxes pudding mix with milk on low speed of mixer for about 2 minutes. Then fold in Cool Whip with a spoon. Spread 1/2 the pudding mixture on top of graham crackers, then place another layer of graham crackers on top of pudding. Then pour balance of pudding on 2nd layer of crackers. Cover with 3rd layer of crackers. TOPPING: Boil all ingredients together in saucepan over medium heat just long enough to remove lumps, stirring constantly. Let cool slightly and pour over top layer. Chill for 10 hours before serving. Serves 10 to 12.

Sam saying grace

2009-09-17T20:41:00.000-07:00

Teasing. It's what's for breakfast, lunch and dinner

2009-09-14T10:40:00.000-07:00

Why the red peppers?

A new diet? An attempt at prettying up this blog? A symbol for the color of my face during trying moments of the day?

No. No and no.

The teasing has come to an all time high in this house. Sure, the day has gotten much quieter now that two of my (rowdy) boys are now in school. Gabriel, the sole Haus boy in the house during the day spends much of his time teasing Jaxon, a two year old boy that I watch during the day. Oh, the fighting that goes on around here. I cannot leave the room for a moment, even to pee, which if you care to know I can do in seconds flat. A must-have skill in this house as one never knows when an emergency or loud scream will occur. TMI? Yeah, I know, but go with it. Allow me a pass. I am surrounded by children.

I have attempted to explain to the children why it is not nice to tease and that it hurts peoples feelings. I have put 'teasers' in time-out. I say 'teasers' because when the older boys get home from school my sweet Elijah starts on Gabriel and even Samantha. Teasing, it's what's for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

A family member recently sent us a box of books their kids no longer read. I found the perfect one in that box today. Almost as if it was there just for me to find.

Today for story time I read 'Tyrone the Horrible'. It's about Boland a little dino who gets teased every day by a T-Rex named Tyrone. Boland tries everything to get Tyrone to stop teasing him and to stop Tyrone from stealing Bolands lunch. Boland offers Tyrone ice cream, he tries ignoring Tyrone and even fights him, to no avail. Finally Boland makes a red hot pepper sandwich for his lunch. The next day Tyrone steals Bolands sandwich and eats it.

I copied the picture of Tyrone breathing fire and hung it on the wall as a reminder to the children that teasing is never a good thing. I am looking forward to reading this story to Elijah. I am almost tempted to buy red peppers and set them on the counter, just as an additional reminder. Talking may not convince them but visual clues just might. That could be considered cruel scare tactics.

Yeah. I am going to do it. *grabbing a pencil and writing hot red peppers on my grocery list*

Picture of the day

2009-09-10T12:26:00.000-07:00

I think that any reading must be done while sitting cozy in a little box

Don't you?

100+10000=

2009-09-10T04:06:00.000-07:00

Lately.

I am running....running. I see the light. It's there. In a size 6 running skort. Running....succeeding.

Today, a poop incident to rival any. Poop on the floor, poop on two year olds hands and legs. Maneuvering to get poopy kid into bathroom without his poopy hands touching anything while still trying to keep other kids from stepping in poop. This is done with careful precision and quick movements only a mother can appreciate. If I was Lucille Ball I would of had a clothes pin pinching my nostrils closed. It was that bad.

Not much has changed around here.

Running......

Two of my kids are in school now. My middle boy is now a kindergartner. I know I should be sad. I was, with the thought of him being independent of me and going off to school, but then I knew he had Spencer to ride the bus with. I knew that he knew he could count on Spence. I know like any good mother, I was expected to cry on his first day. I did not. Don't get me wrong, I worried like any good mother, but cry? No. That's not how I roll. I knew he would be great. He loves school. I suspect he prefers it over the oh so boring days spent at home playing 'little baby' games.

Running.....Oh crap! Is that a blister?....running...running..

Tonight at the local Harris Teeter, as I was browsing the hot dog section I spotted a sale on Hebrew National hot dogs. A steal at $2.00. As I was deciding on how many packages to buy a very loud and obnoxious sound erupted next to me and for an instant I thought I was in Walmart. I may have even heard the Twilight Zone theme song in my head.

I nonchalantly (yeah, right! nonchalantly) glance over to see a group of five people, seemingly young adults or very immature adults and one toddler boy. The child was sitting in the cart while his older brother or very immature and mean father was teasing him. I didn't hear the teasing, only the very loud "NOOOOOO!" coming from that child, but I understood from the mans gestures that teasing was occurring followed by the child yelling.

Every few seconds.

He just kept yelling! I held onto my wieners and quickly made my way down the coffee isle. Away. I had to get away. I could still hear the child's "NOOOOO!" Then the cart carrying the screaming child was being pushed down the coffee isle. My nerves were splintering. I can handle childrens many noises, and we all know they emit loud sounds. I could not take it. I moved to the next isle. The noise persisted so I decided to start my shopping in the refrigerator section and off I went 6 isles down. Quite faintly I could still hear the childs irritating cries. I was struck with a feeling of disbelief and irritation at the man provoking the child and wondered what kind of life that poor kid had.

At the check out the screaming persisted. I wondered how the mother could allow this to go on. It just wasn't normal. At least not where I come from. I kept thinking; what the hell is wrong with those people? Didn't they care that the boy was being harassed? Didn't they know that they were making a scene? I wanted to step in, but couldn't. I know. How selfish, but I did not want to get beat up in the parking lot.

I could still hear the child as I exited the store. Guess they thought they were in Walmart too.

Running...stretch, stretch....running on....

Tonight as I went to my bedroom to get ready for bed I found a hand made scroll and the math equation 100+10000= sitting on my side of the bed.

A scroll that only a child would make. The smell of crayons and notebook paper brought a sweet smile to my face. 100+10000=love. I wrote down 10100 but when he finds the answer in his lunch box tomorrow he will understand that it really means I love him.

100+10000=love

See, I don't have to cry. I have moments like these to make me smile.

Running

and

adding.

The Ooey Gooey Chocolate Chip Cookie Blog (with pics)

2009-08-12T09:47:00.000-07:00

Despite the madness that is going around this house today like a bad case of rabies, I decided to try a fun, messy craft with the kids hoping it would take their minds off of each other and their snarling.

We made chocolate chip cookies with shaving cream, glue, brown paint, black paper and paper plates.

Gabe stirring it up!

Elijah with his usual goofy expression

Spencer. Wonder what he is thinking

The glop!

Putting the mixture on the paper plate.

Elijah spreading the gooey stuff around.

Walla! The finished product!

Cookie anyone?

As you can see, Gabriel is wearing his Happy Birthday hat in honor of his 4th birthday. After nap we are having REAL chocolate cupcakes. Mmmmm chocolate cup cakes.

I got this idea from a blogger I subscribe too. 'No Time for Flashcards'. Great site. She has the best ideas! If you have small children go check her out. She is on my sub list.

Tree Mud..The brief tale of how a woman became a mud beast.

2009-08-08T19:23:00.000-07:00

Nert! Nert! Nert! Nert! The alarm clock is shrilling at me.

"Get up! Get up! Get up!" I told myself a dozen times this morning before forcing myself out of the comforts of my bed. It was still dark and quiet. Did I really have to wake the kids? I asked myself. Yes.

Get ready to go. Shower, shave, shave, no shampoo. Why even shower? I am going to be playing in the mud later. Do it anyway. Get dressed. Wake the kids. Last minute bag check. Last minute diaper bag check. Breakfast which gave me peanut butter butterflies. Why was I nervous? Dumb and not allowed. Load the kids in the van, drive through the desolate neighborhood. I get to friends house, drop kids off at friends house at 6:20 a.m. We are on our way.

It's race day. An 8k mudrun race day. I know. Shut up! Already about this mudrun. Or should I say 'Sand run?' I will try to keep my words to a minimum, but don't hold me to it. In fact, don't hold anything to me, I think sand is still embedded in my skin. I might be scratchy to the touch. Not making sense. Moving along now.......

We start on the 3rd wave. The beginning of the race is along the beach, on the sand. We run through the sand, water, around broken trees, and up sand dunes. We run through the woods, around more trees and over orange-painted roots. The first fifteen minutes I am not there, but then I get it. I am in the groove, am comfortable, am running smooth. Then more sand. Slows us down. So much sand.

We run through a mud puddle then more loose sand. We cross a creek in waist high water. I joke that I feel like a wildebeast crossing the river. I briefly, in a Discovery channel moment, look for a pair of crocodile eyes peering over the top of the water.

We traipse through sand, sand, sand! I climb over a wall. I would like to say that I resembled one of Charlies Angels as I shot over the top, but it was more like a Chris Farley moment as I hit the surface on my belly and rolled over to the other side. I think I even made a sound like a seal barking as I rolled off. Urf!

My shoes are heavy with sand, my once white socks are now black.

We wade through a waist high puddle of mud, make our way up and down sand hills and gasp a sigh of relief when we hit pavement. The end is the best. The end is my favorite part. I feel like a beast.

Upon cresting the final hill we slide down to the mud pit. I am in beastly bliss as I crawl through the mud. Mud splashes in my face, in my hair. I try to keep my shoulders and butt under the ropes that were hanging horizontally across the pit. I am a warrior! Grrrrr!

Okay, so maybe not a warrior but certainly I must have looked like Catherine Zeta Jones slithering under that rope as if they were laser beams. I am certain that I heard a few people calling 'Go Catherine!' It was a proud moment.

The mud stuck in my hair and trickled down my leg.

It stuck to me as I crossed the crowded finish line.

The mud was my mark of accomplishment, my badge of mudrun honor.

There were cheers for the finishers.

I made it. I am a mud-runner.

Until next year....

Get me a publisher!

2009-07-22T11:02:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile. I have had other things going on. Like life and kids and such. It happens. I have been wandering about inside my head, not sure where the words had gone. I had things to say, to write, to speak. The words seem to evaporate like cotton candy on my tongue, but not as sweet.

Okay, enough of the gooble gobble.

Hubby is away again. It's just me and the monkeys. Yes, I call them monkeys. It is a term of endearment, most of the time.

The other day as the boys were upstairs washing up, brushing teeth, I heard a ruckus. The kind of ruckus that stops me from whatever task is at hand to go check it out and usually there is a task at hand. It goes with the territory. I had to investigate as my motherly instinct would lead me to do. Of course there is always a commotion when all 3 of the boys are together in one area, but this was the hullabaloo that broke the camels....er...mamas...back.

It was more than likely a shove here, a push there, someone took someone's toy. Whatever. These kids fight about what color cup they will have at dinner. "I want the red one! NO! I wanted that one!" Yada, yada, scream, scuttle and more screaming. I really should just buy all same colored cups. Less fights to deal with. Why can't we all just get along? And I go on....

Back to the zoo.....

There is much bickering as I arrive at the top stair. I cannot make out any of it. I demand that each boy meets me at the kitchen table. We shall have a round table discussion on their crisis or in our case a rectangle discussion.

We go around the table, each boy getting a turn to tell his side of the story. Houston, we have a problem.

The event went something like this:

One boy was washing his hands. The other arrived to also wash his hands. We do not have a double sink, so things get tight. The third boy arrived to pee. Apparently he felt the need to turn away from the toilet, point his wee-wee at this brother and proceed to pee on him. And the floor. And the wall. This created a chain reaction of yelling and giggling, then one boy shut the lights off, while the peed on boy closed the door, shutting the pee-er in the closed dark bathroom, fumbling with his shorts around his ankles. Serves him right I would say.

I shake my head at these childish, boyish antics and wonder why it is so that children must act in such ways. I will never know.

I asked my husband if this was normal, because I think it is not. Dear husband says that yes, it's normal. Hmmm. How long has he known these are the things that I am going to have to be faced with?

The things they don't tell you when you are pregnant. I could write a book.

This is about poop. You have been warned

2009-05-13T09:30:00.000-07:00

No quarter yet. Elijah says I need to buy him some prunes so that he can poop out the quarter. Today after he ate a big lunch, he says to me: "All that food should have moved that quarter down." The kid is a riot.

I have decided to leave the quarter search up to my hubby. I donned the blue surgical gloves. I sorted through one of Elijahs BMs.

Not

Going

To

Do

That

Again.

I almost puked. Really, it's one thing to wipe a poopy butt, it's another to actually squish poop in your fingers. See? Gross right? Bleh!

I am really not up to the task of poop sorting. Seriously, don't they have some kind of poop sorting machine I could have borrowed from the hospital?

Anyone want a job? I know things are bad in the job market so if you know of anyone......

Okay, bad joke...whatever! It's not like I am a certain comedian wishing people dead. Boo-Yeah!

Hey! Look what I got today!

Who says Mother's Day ends on Sunday?

Seriously, (I say that a lot don't I? Seriously) all of this fruit will surely bring about a 'movement'.

Leave comments. I like that. :)

Any old day?

2009-05-10T20:03:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day.

Another day?

Any old day?

Normal Mother's Day? What is that? A normal mother's day. I wonder as I glance down at my green heels. Mowing the grass while wearing flip flops is not recommened unless you want to resemble a leprachaun. Our mower is a beast! As I pushed the mower over the thick tall grass the mowing monster kept stalling. No one told me (until I spoke to hubby on the phone tonight) that one must set the mower wheels to high when first cutting tall grass/weeds. The neighbors have never seen that side of me and with my green feet they may have thought the Hulk had moved in next door.

Normal Mother's day?

Again, I ponder. Is it a dinner with the family, a vase of flowers, a spa package or a few quiet moments which only last until someone stumbles in with their pants at their ankles freaking out because they cannot pull up their pants due to their sweaty legs. It's been hot.

What is the point? Gift me everyday for the job of being a mom. Then I might not cry at odd times (all moms do that right?) when the shit hits the fan and I cannot take anymore of this madhouse. Then I might smile more often and not curse and kick at the lawn mower. Then again, I might cry anyway.

Give me a book and a quiet place so that my brain can recircuit and maybe then I won't forget to inform the lector scheduler at church that my husband won't be there to lector (he's out to sea) so that the priest won't have to leave the alter and retrieve the Holy book himself. Yep! *raising hand* that was me today at mass. A gaggle of restless kids and a moment frozen in time when I see the priest leave the alter and grab the book. As I bent down and picked up the bulletin I knew that my husbands name would be typed next to todays date. I wanted to shrink. I knew 'they' knew my screw up.

Normal Mother's Day?

After mowing the grass I managed to shower before Samantha woke from her nap. A few moments later Elijah comes to me in a complete and utter panic saying that he has a dime stuck in his throat. I stick my finger in and I almost get the coin, but only make matters worse when the 'dime' which was really a quarter went down his throat. He gagged, he made choking sounds, he puked. I called 911.

The EMTS arrive and by thenElijah has calmed down and is sitting on the floor with a puke bucket, still heaving up purplely yuck. Mom on the other hand is still shaking from the realization that she can't DO everything and her child could have choked. EMTs assess the situation and determine that Elijah is going to be fine, but needs an x-ray. When I cannot reach anyone to take the other kids while I go to the ER the EMTs decide to drive 5 year old Elijah over in the ambulance and I would follow. Of course I have to wake the baby, change her and get her ready before I can leave. With all of the kids. Elijah is okay, just has a quarter in his stomach and now mommy has to sift through feces for the next week until the poopy coin comes out. This is the same child who swallowd a dime last year. He might be saving for the future.

Normal Mother's Day? Yes. Indeed it is a normal mother's day.

A sweet homemade pipe cleaner flower in a handpainted paper vase, a folded in half piece of construction paper with drawings of me and the kids and scribble scratches like 'my mommy likes to eat popsicles' and 'I love you mommy' written on it and handed to me with a hug and a kiss.

How could I not stop off at Starbucks on the way home from church and get a Frap for me and marshmellow treats for the kids despite their misbehavior in church?

How can I have moments of doubt and despair over my job of raising kids when they are so pure, their little hearts bigger than the world?

How could I have breathed for so long without them?

Eh, I know. So very touching right?

These kids are getting to me.

The Aquafresh is spiked

2009-04-18T05:21:00.000-07:00

I have come to believe that there must be something in the kids' toothpaste. It's spiked with some kind of mental inhibitor. It makes them act completely crazy and unlike anything I have seen prior to becoming a parent. I would say that there are suspicious substances in the water too because- geez! It seems everytime I turn around I am pregnant, but this is not about me being pregnant so many times, because I am NOT pregnant, merely stating a fact.

I am convinced that there IS something in the kids' toothpaste. It has to be the paste, because people just don't do the things my children do. It could be the genes and in that case I will blame my high-flying-Superman-jumping-from-dressers husband. HE started all of this. I am sure it doesn't help that he wrestle fights the boys, plays soccer in the house with them and plays 'steal the Best Friend' with them, which usually turns into a screaming match with Gabe at the forefront. After all it is his Best Friend that is being passed around like it's the last piece of chocolate cake at a kids birthday party.

I don't mind this madness when my husband is leading it as the boys do love it and someone has to do it. If I attempt a fraction of what hubby does with the boys I usually end up with a black bruise SOMEWHERE on my body or just simply wake the next morning with a killer back ache. I will stick to crafts, play dough and playing board games thank you.

The reason for this rant. Yes, there is a main point.

Yesterday was a doozy. It was discovered that two of my sons decided to pee in one of their toy bins. NOT just one boy, but two boys. Imagine how much pee that generates. Those kids can stand at the toilet for a full 30 seconds peeing. Thirty seconds is a long time when you consider the amount that would generate. Ewww!

It was, at the very least one of the nastiest things I have encountered since becoming a parent 7 years ago. I carried the bin into the tub wondering how I was to handle this. I could just carry the bin right outside to the trash can or make the boys clean each and every urine soaked toy. I let it rest for a moment or two so that I could collect myself. I dropped a few F-bombs in my head, along with a couple 'I can't F-ing believe its'. I think one F-bomb may have leaked out of my mouth. It was warranted. They peed in a toy bin!!!!!!!!!

It was also discovered that the 'deed' was done on Wednesday night while watching the movie 'Babe' in their room, which is a rarity. They don't often get to watch a movie in their room, but I was feeling a bit generous that day and decided to lift the ban for just one day. See what happens when I let my guard down for a moment? Piss happens.

After soaking in a urine bath for a few days the smell...oh boy! Well.... if you have ever walked up a public parking ramp stairway where bums and drunkards go to 'relieve' themselves then you know the stench I refer to. It was atrocious. I would say that it took me back to my twenty-something party days, but it didn't. It just verified that I live with a bunch of lunatics. I love my lunatics but they do make for a stressful life.

The two pissers were sent to their rooms for a while. They couldn't give me a good explanation for why they did what they did. I would accept the reason was that they just didn't want to miss a moment of the movie. I may never know why. Really, is there a good reason to pee in a box of toys?

The urine toys were soaked in very hot soapy water then transferred to a bleach bath where they are now.

I cannot make this stuff up.

Cleaning? Phsst! I can do that.....later

2009-04-09T11:42:00.000-07:00

My husband is having friends over Friday. Just a couple guys, he says. And beer. What a great combination. Does that mean I have to take care of the kids on Saturday? I have things to do! Grocerys to buy, a pedicure to have, ironing to do.

Oh how selfish of me. bleh, whatever!

Friday. That's tomorrow. I have been calm thus far.

We do have 4 children and I haven't the time to dust. There must be seven layers of dust on our furniture. If you ever come to my home please leave your white gloves at the door otherwise I might have to kick you out. With a foot.

Friday.

Guests.

I am not ready, yet I remain calm. What can I do? I will gather up all of the crap laying around and stuff it into my 'Monica' closet. Everyone has one. Even you I bet. Well maybe not EVERYONE as I know a person or two who are very tidy. Careful coming to my house you tidy people as your pants might stick to the chair when you sit down and you might be leaving my house with a red jelly stain on your 'tidy' butt.

I dust, I Windex, I vaccuum, I cram things into places that don't fit just to make the mess disappear. Oh, I know. It didn't REALLY disappear and when I open that crammed Monica closet things are going to fall on my head. BUT while the guests are here, I won't see the mess and my home will be as clean as Marthas.

Even if it is all a facade, I will be deemed a good housekeeper. Just call me Betty.

There are some things that I just cannot fix around here. Like my lack of vision when it comes to adding decor.

I was not born with the decorating gene or what I call the 'Martha' gene. This can sometimes stress me out. I have moments when I stand still and look at things around my home and wonder why I bought THAT and why I thought THAT would go with THAT. I need assistance. I need a personal decorator because I know that those flowery throw pillows do not go with our beige couch. I want to hire the woman from Devine Design. She has good taste. She has vision.

But for now, I will just put things where they fit and hope for the best. I don't measure so I will just pound a nail and hope for the best. I don't plan, I just buy an item that I like and hope for the best.

Crap! Am I supposed to serve the guests food too?

I cleaned and crammed and rearranged. Cheezits will have to do.

Counting Sh_t! Counts as Learning

2009-03-31T06:21:00.000-07:00

"MAAAAWWWM!" I make my way toward the summoning child. The sound is coming from the downstairs bathroom. This might be messy. It's never a good thing when a child is closed himself inside a bathroom and is yelling for me. This I know from experience. True grit or true sh_t! See. Now I didn't SAY the 'S' word so technically I am not swearing.

I am now thinking like a child too.

Reasoning, reasoning with my own self.

"MAAAAAWWM"! He calls seconds later. Impatience not only runs in my blood but apparently my childs.

Trying not to run, because my son does seem distressed, I reach the bathroom and ask him what he needs. I respect his privacy and keep the door closed. I am working on that one. They are getting older and going to be doing things that I do NOT want to walk in on. Practice! Practice! I don't want to be one of THOSE Maaawms.

"Mom, the toilet is going to plug up! I know it is..." he tells me through the closed door. He is most likely correct in his assessment. After all, toilets are not meant to flush down a whole roll of toilet paper. I wonder if he sits in there calculating how much TP it would take to clog the toilet. Maybe he just wants to try out the plunger, just once.

"Are you done going potty?" I ask through the closed door.

"Yeah, but the toilet is going to plug up!"

"I'll take care of it. Just finish up in there and I will take the plunger to it." A small child, poop and a plunger is not a good visual.

"MOM! The toilet is going to plug up!" He must tell me why and continues. ......"I know it, because there are 13 poops in there."

This one made me laugh out loud. He actually counted his poops. Learning happens everywhere.

A new kind of counting book? I could be in the money.

'Count Your poops!' or 'Poop Counting' OR

A new sidekick for The Count on Sesame Street; 'Count Poops A Lot'.

"He counts poop and so can you! Aww ha ha ha ha!"

"Grandma told me!"

2009-03-20T18:14:00.000-07:00

"Grandma told me!" Gabriel happily exclaimed in his sing song voice.

"Oh. She did?"

"Yep!"

Let me take a few steps back for a moment so that you understand what grandma apparently told her grandson. I have to wonder if grandma tells the kids things behind our backs. I imagine that one day in the future when the children are grown many of these apparent 'grandma' teachings will come out. The truth is out there or at least in my childrens heads the truth is just waiting to emerge like a butterfly coming out of it's cocoon.

Much like what grandma told Gabriel, which I will present after a brief description of just a day in the life......

Today among the chaos of my daily life including children running through the house screaming while banging maracas and pot lids and knocking crap down in their wake. There is not only screaming but bickering among the natives. oh! and hair pulling; Gabriel decided it was a good idea to pull Jaxons hair-oh boy! Maybe this says something about my parenting, but whatever people! What am I here? Suzie homemaker mother of the year extrodinaire? HA!

Just after nap time the phone rings. As my hand reaches for the receiver, I wonder how much the person on the other end of the line has bad timing. Talking on the phone when the kids are awake is impossible, much like trying to carry on a conversation at a Metallica concert; you just talk really loud in. Of course not only do I have to raise my voice when talking on the phone, I plug my ears while running to the bathroom to shut myself inside just so that I can hear what the person on the phone is saying. I might actually put a desk and chair in there. A flask too? I guess I could just hang up on the person and unplug the phone.

Note to people who are not already aware....don't call my house before 8:30 at night! I am kidding. You can call sooner. Of course after bedtime you might get a zombie mommy, but that is your choice; talking to a zombie eating bon bons on the couch or talking over a childrens rock concert. You decide.

Back to the phone call that started it all: Geez! I do carry on like a lunatic don't I? Again, whatever.

The call.......

It's the secretary at Spencers school. Spencer has a wood tick attached to his arm (yeah, a wood tick NOT a piece of wood) and I must pick him up. EGADS! A tick! Hubby is the one to take care of THAT! I am required to pick up Spencer AND take out a wood tick that has burrowed into his arm? Okay, so I am not that selfish, but that squeamish yes. I go. I retrieve my son at school toting all the other monkeys....er children with me. By the time I get there the staff at his school has taken out the tick. THANK GOD! Seriously, I could have dropped to my knees. The secretary hands me a yellow piece of paper with a plastic ziploc bag attached. The tick must be saved in case there is infection and that other thing that I won't mention just because I don't even want to think about that.

We get home and settle in, the kids' engines revving up for the running in the house with scissors mode. I know my kids would run around with scissors if I didn't keep the sharp objects out of reach. Spencer HAS had stitches sewn into his skin twice and Elijah did swallow a dime that one time. I must head them off at the pass before they do damage to themselves. Squeamish here, remember?

Anyway. I wandered off the beaten path for a moment. Or as they say, I digressed.

Gabriel stands in front of me and inquires about the woodtick bug. I explain to him that it burrows into the skin and sucks blood. One must get it out carefully. Gabriel has decided that he knows what the bug is that was stuck in Spencers arm and what it's purpose was. He included sound effects.

"I know what that bug was!" Gabriel at this point puts himself in between me and anyone else so that he has my full attention. "A cockroach got onto Spencer and sucked the food right out of his body! That's what cockroaches do!"

"A cockroach? Sucks food from people?" I ask trying really hard not to laugh at his incredible cuteness.

"YEAH! And they suck blood from your baaawwdy!" (that's body in Gabe speak). He lifts up his shirt to demonstrate. His belly extends out like a little balloon.

"They suck blood too?" I ask hoping I would receive more of his cuteness. I really just want to squish him he is so cute.

"Yep! They do! Sip! Sip! Sip!" He really says that; sip sip sip and pretends to suck something through a straw.

"Hmmm. Who told you that?" I ask. I think his response is going to be about a survival show that we watched the previous night on the discovery channel, but he never mentions that show. Nope! He apparently got his information from a reputable source.

"Grandma told me!"

Anyone ever see that Bill Cosby special with the kids?

Yeah, grandma Chris we know you told Gabriel that cockroaches suck food from peoples bodies.

The Gerbil cage

2009-03-06T10:21:00.000-08:00

Went to the gym the other day. *popping my gum* Yep! Thought I was going to just shimmy on in there like a big shot.

I had high hopes of getting right back into the swing or run of it if we are speaking in treadmill. It was prime time at the YMCA. I should of had my first clue when the only parking spots available were a good walk away from the front door, but then it is a gym and I guess they promote good health this way.

If you want my opinion, which you might or you wouldn't be here reading this, they should build a ramp with elevators. It was cold out and we had to lug our 4 monkeys in with us. They really should come with handles. It would make it easier to tote them around.

After dropping the kids at the FREE daycare they offer, Michael and I ventured up into the place where we humans become gerbils on machines; the cardio room. We then go our separate ways. He toward the weights and I to the eliptical machines.

All the eliptical machines were in use, the human gerbils elipticalling away. I ambled over to the only stationary bike available and hopped on with big dreams of pedaling my tush off or at least riding off some of the junk in this girls trunk. I too was once a human gerbil and I so wanted back 'in'. The stationary bike and I go way back. I knew SB before I had kids. We used to be tight, right along with my tush. We spent many a day together just pedaling away at full speed.

I think you might guess, those days are OVER!

I am getting all verclemp as my ass is no longer smooth like butter and something has made permanant residence in my belly. Can we say "pooch?" They say not to feed a stray or it will stay.

After making a few minor adjustments, I begin to pedal on SB. I realize this is not going well when my butt slips forward and I am crushed right 'there'. You know where I am talking about. I scootch my butt back, it slips forward. Back and forward, back and forward. This continues for a few minutes. I must have looked quite ridiculous to those gerbils behind me.

This was not working out the way I had planned. I leave my old friend SB and move on to RB (recumbant bike). We used to be friends too. RB is more accepting of my tush and so I ride for a while.

As I wander over to the circuit training area I am stopped by Mr. Marine (not his actual name as I don't actually know his name). He wears a marine headband and a sleeveless Harley Davidson shirt, his arms covered with fading tattoos. He was probably 'cool' once. Mr. Marine wants to know when I was last in Cuba. I am wearing a Guantanamo Bay tee shirt. I make small talk, telling him about the base as it was compared to HIS last stay there fifteen years ago. I think it must have been more like 20 years prior. He asks who I was there with. Of course I don't realize that Mr. Marine thinks that I am a service member and he is inquiring about what unit I was with so I simply say: "My husband and kids".

EEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

It was like someone slamming on car brakes just not so loud and minus the skid marks.

"Oh. Oh I see." he says. The conversation soon ends.

So, it's come to this has it?

Mr. Marines and slippery SB seats?

I chuckle. Or maybe that was me choking up. I could give myself a high five because I still have 'it', but if I only have 'it' with all the Mr. Marines out there I don't really have 'it' anymore. I think I just heard a bird smash into the window. Oh wait! That was just my pride crashing to the floor.

I am going to go gorge on chocolatey caramel goodness now because I am no longer one of the young vibrant gerbils in the cage.

I forget. I can't even do that as I gave chocolate up for lent.

Another birthday post

2009-03-03T10:14:00.000-08:00

As we all know, Sam turned 1 year old last week.

Here are some of the highlights....

Opening gifts

A ladybug nightlight. Is it a drum?

Oooh pretty ribbons!

Oh, was I supposed to keep that card together?

Hmmm wonder what this is!

Look at the pretty dresses. I look good in polka dots!

Look! I can stand!

My birthday cake!

GIVE ME MY BIRTHDAY CAKE!!

Mmmm taste good!

I guess I am supposed to eat it like this?

I LOVE THIS DAY!!

The cake eating video:

(push the play button, go ahead)

Another year gone by.

It seems like only yesterday that you shot out of your mama like a cannon ball almost hitting grandma. Okay, so I exaggerate, but you did make a grand entrance. Or is it exit? Guess it depends on how you look at it.

A doll turns one

2009-02-27T19:30:00.000-08:00

Hey kid! Where did you get all of that hair and by the way, how did you get to be one year old today?

Drowning

2009-02-26T10:31:00.000-08:00

As I sit here in front of my computer, I look at all of the papers piled up on the desk, crap that has been here for weeks. I have seen and touched each piece of mail or note from school that is stacked here. I always have big plans of disposing of the junk as it comes in. Still, here it sits.

How long do I keep the kids' special singing Valentine from Grandma or the beautiful Christmas card from a friend? I had big plans of putting the Christmas card into a small frame and over Christmas hanging it at a spot near the front door.

Now, I am thinking of just picking up the stack and cramming all of those trees.....er papers right into the trash and hope an identity thief does not steal my information. I don't have a shredder so I must rip. I need an incinerator, but a metal trash can will do. If I had a metal trash can I could take it outside to the curb and burn the papers. There would be no going back. I could invite over a few homeless people to help me burn it. We could warm our hands. I could give them bagels and hot cocoa, (I am not sharing the Archer trail mix), but then I am not chummy with any homeless people, at least not until the 'O' shit happens. Nope, I just live inside these many white walls with all of this paper.

They may find me one day, hand sticking out of the top, waving, signaling for someone to get me out from under all of this papery madness.

Trails

2009-02-19T11:00:00.000-08:00

My new favorite thing is Archer Farms Caramel Cashew trail mix. I found it at Target while shopping for a new phone.

It sounds like a healthy snack doesn't it? The words 'trail mix' suggesting that I might walk a lot of trails while eating my Archer Farms Caramel Cashew trail mix. If you know me you realize that I do not amble through a lot of trails. Oh sure I, at one point in my life hiked many a trail, but not while eating Archer Farms Caramel Cashew Trail mix. No, lately I just sit here on my butt eating the caramel goodness. With all of these chocolate caramel balls I have consumed I know I should be hitting a trail somewhere.

Mmmmm M&M goodness with cashews and big round balls of chocolate caramel. Big round balls. "I AAVE BIG RoWND BAAWLS" That's Arnold speak for those not in the know. Sorry, it makes me laugh thinking about what Arnold would sound like saying dirty words. I know. I am an odd bird. At least that is what hubby tells me.

I have become the ca—ta-ass—tropheee preventer round here. I need a new cape. I have moved on from Hot girl to Preventaa Castastrophe Girl. Eh, not the best superhero name, but I evolve.

Last night I was explaining to my hubby that when one has kids one must go through the day preventing disaster. Staying one step ahead of the catastrophe is key. When I see a child carrying a stool and bucket to the sink I must intervene, prevent a catastrophe, especially if there is a hole in said bucket.

Hubby says I need to relax and not worry so much. But honey! You don't understand! I must prevent bad things from happening. The kids are going to ruin the house and undo all of the cleaning and organizing! Have you seen the banister? It is barely hanging on.

They are going to anyway he says. I know he is right.

Then why do I worry so? Why must I stay one step ahead of them? Why must I maintain an empty laundry basket or concern myself with how much dust is collecting on the tv screen? God knows with 6 of us in this house we shed a lot of dead skin.

Why must I get that one more dirty dish in the dishwasher? I practically stand there waiting for them to finish their juice just so I can put the dirty cup in the dishwasher and move on to the next task. I sometimes have to hold back from grabbing the cup from them just so that I can finish something. I move about here like a machine. Why do I feel like I have to control everything?

Control. It's what seems to drive me. Things must be organized and have a place BUT in my defense I do schedule messy times like putting shaving cream on the kitchen table and letting them squish it all over I have time for finger painting and play dough or letting them write their names in small piles of flour.

Oh boy. Do I hear myself? Scheduled messy time? Ugh!

It's when the kids are done playing with the paint that worries me. Their little feet will take their little paint covered hands to the bathroom to clean up and on the way to clean up, the little paint covered fingers are going to brush up against the walls and cabinets and anything that they can leaving a trail of paint for me to clean. No big deal right? No, but it is a big deal. It is more to do. More cleaning.

Oh, but Tree why don't you give them a towel and make the clean up fun and they can help? Right? Right? Okay. I can try to be Martha, although that comparison might not be accurate. Have you seen the 'Gotta Love Martha' show? Apparently Martha is not kid friendly and she herself probably waited anxiously for the kids to finish their juice before sewing her new curtains or baking those cowboy cookies.

I used to be less worrisome.

I guess I am done ranting on now. Afterall, my butt is sore from all of this non-trail walking and I have run out of Archer Farms Caramel Cashew trail mix.

Did someone smell that?

2009-02-07T07:44:00.000-08:00

"Eww buddy, you smell like poo." The boy stares at me with a blank look as his hand continues it's digging. It doesn't seem to faze him that he reeks of poop or that his hand is probably itching the source of the poopy smell.

I will never understand that.

He is still just looking at me. No words, just looking at me as if waiting for me to finish.

I do.

"I think you need to take a shower. Maybe you didn't wipe all of it off when you went poop, so why don't you take a quick shower and change your clothes?" A few more seconds of the blank stare. "Go wash up!"

"Okay". Followed by a deep sigh that could only come from me. I know it's from me because I do that, give out deep sighs to signal my disbelief or exasperation. I must do that a lot, but then I suppose being surrounded by stinky odors and blank stares is the cause of the deep sighs. *exhales and lets out a deep sigh*

Shake Your Groove Thang!

2009-02-05T06:01:00.000-08:00

We just received a happy Valentine box from Bill and Chris. The boys got right down to drawing in the new books using their super cool markers. Elijah just had to put on his new shirt. He does look sporty.

After the drawing came the dancing and grooving. I think it was pure excitement upon hearing about our upcoming Olive Garden dinner. Even the baby got in on the action.

Check it out:

Thanks Bill and Chris. This will go into the vault to pull out at a later date, like at their graduation party or wedding. :)

Sam

2009-01-24T16:19:00.000-08:00

Why is it whenever I run and get the camera she stops talking?

Catching Water

2009-01-22T07:21:00.000-08:00

Sam taking hold of the water.

The Best Friend gets a face lift

2009-01-15T10:23:00.000-08:00

Gabriels favored best friend got a hole where his nose should be. Enough thumb rubbing and it will soon resemble the previous best friend.

One day a heart broken Gabriel came to me asking me to fix his best friends nose. I asked him if he wanted a rudolph nose which he replied yes. And so I give you..

Rudolph the red nosed best friend:

A Boy and His Small Victory

2009-01-14T03:10:00.001-08:00

An idea begins to form.....

He must think on it a bit more..........

Making some observations............

Hmmm....can he do it? Should he?

He goes for it!

Ahhhh victory!

2009-01-13T10:17:00.000-08:00

A Girl Stands and Out For A Walk

This morning before the weather turned all Wizard of Oz on us we ventured out for a walk in the neighborhood. The boys found 'magic wands' and decided to wave them around. Gabriel then decided that he wanted to be the leader and so he led us around for a bit his wand now a leaders staff.

Samantha is standing! Well okay, she stands up against things, like windows and couches and chairs. Soon enough though she will be walking. The gates are up and we are ready. Have four kids and preparedness is second nature.

Look! She has front teeth. She looks a lot like Spencer here.

Ice Skating we will go...

2009-01-12T10:15:00.000-08:00

The family decided to go ice skating. HA! That was a crazy hour. Seriously, if you plan on taking 4 kids to an ice rink, be prepared! I stayed off of the ice due to Samantha not being able to skate. Really, she can't skate. :)

The boys were anxious to get on the ice, but we forgot to bring hats, gloves and knee pads. Some people had their kids in helmets. At one point Spencer crawled off the rink in tears because his hands were so cold. I guess if you spend more time crawling on your bare hands than on the provided skates your hands will get bitterly cold. I gave him a pair of socks to put on his hands.

Elijah finally scored a walker to help him along, but Michael sure had his hands full out there. Let's just say next time we will be more prepared.

Elijah heading out onto the ice

Gabriel taking a break

Michael with Gabe and Spencer

Spencer doing his best to say afoot

Elijah doing a great job on the ice

Ice rink now, winter olympics next!

The Christmas blog with pics

2009-01-03T09:28:00.000-08:00

Oh the joy of Christmas. It has passed on and with much happiness and fun times. The artificial tree is packed away with all of the ornaments safely stowed in plastic bins. The presents have long been opened and discarded for the boxes they came in.

It is now a new year. I don't know what 2009 will bring, but I hope that it goes smoothly and without too many broken plastic bins. Here are some of the highlights of the season:

Samantha and the traditional slinky

Sam and her new toy

Samantha plays with her doll

How cute is she?

Dinosaurs!!

A Wii!

Star Wars comes to the Hauswirth house

A kid and his new scooter.

The two Santas

Samantha claps

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

Spencer glows

2008-11-03T07:15:00.000-08:00

Halloween.
Kids.
Candy.
Mayhem.
Oh, and poison.

Halloween night, after dredging through the neighborhood, having our children beg for candy like bums, we went home. Eh can't beat tradition. With all of the candy they got we could eat for days, if only people were handing out coupons for free food. Maybe next year.

While the kids' were busy munching on a chocolate bar or otherwise sweet treat, hubby and I quickly dumped some of their hard earned (they did have to beg) candy into a large bowl to 'redistribute' to other kids. We were spreading the wealth.

Once the sugar rush simmered down we put the kids to bed. Before heading out into the night earlier we gave each child a glow bracelet. We let them sleep with their glow bracelets on the condition they wouldn't play with them. What were we thinking? These are kids.

Minutes later…

Elijah came running down the stairs frantically screaming: "Spencer got poison in his mouth! It's on his face!" Elijah was about in tears. "I'm scared. I don't want Spencer to die!"

Michael raced up the stairs to see what was going on. Apparently when you tell a child of mine to NOT do something they think it means 'go ahead and do that'. Even though we told the kids not to bite their glow bracelets our oldest decided he would be a great example to his siblings by biting into his bracelet.

What happened next may have scarred my middle boy. Green glow juices splashed every where; in Spencer face, his mouth, his pillow, THE CARPET and his blanket. He probably looked all glowy and Green Goblin-ish. Did I mention it got in his mouth? Yeah. I am sure the scene was horrific for Eli to see considering M just told the boys that the green stuff was poisonous and it could kill them if swallowed. Spencer had it coming out of his mouth.

We reassured Elijah that his brother was okay and was not going to die. I don't think he bought it right away.

No one got rushed to the hospital this time.

How was your Halloween? All glowy?

Five years

2008-10-23T10:50:00.000-07:00

Five years ago while I was getting ready for bed, my belly protruding from my body like a huge pumpkin, I felt a cramp. Minutes later another cramp, cramp, cramp! Then stillness until a few minutes later the cramping again.

Seven minutes apart.

It was you.

Knocking on my uterus door, telling me: 'It's time to let me out now mommy'.

Daddy was getting your older brother down to sleep. He popped his head into the bedroom for a question. "Where was the bear?"

"It's downstairs, next to the toy bin" I answer then tell him he had better call Dana. It was time to go.

"What? Are you sure? Already? Nah."

"I think I know when I am laboring." Cramp, cramp, craaaaamp! "Really, it's time to go. The contractions are six, seven minutes apart."

"Okay, call Dana, I will get Spencer ready" Rushing away as if it is daddy's first time with this.

Daddy drove us to the hospital in record time. I remember worrying about his speed as it was raining. The hospital was only minutes away. Daddy was nervous. He was smiling and nervous. Giddy maybe.

Me? I was counting minutes in my head and wondering what you would look like. Would you have light hair like your brother or dark hair like mommy and daddy? What would you be like? Would you be the quiet observant type like your mommy or the strong intellectual like your daddy? Perhaps you would be your own person and not resemble any of us. If you had the energy and daring of your older brother, mommy and daddy would have our work cut out for us.

You arrived into our world with your big blue eyes shining at us. We beamed, we held you and kissed you. You were all that we were hoping for; a beautiful baby, a sweet little babe. And now even when you are teasing or mocking your brothers and being a rascal I feel blessed that you are here. Your sweetness and 'I love yous' sometimes get you through those days when you are diligently provoking fights with your brothers. Those sweet blue eyes get you out of much trouble. In your five years, if I was keeping track I would say you have spent a few hours in 'time-outs'.

You are your own person. You most definitely are.

I love how you look up to your big brother
I love how you adore your sister and are the only one that can make her laugh belly laughs
I love that you are smart I love that you don't miss a beat
I love that you only want to wear one particular pair of pants and that you keep trying to wear sandals even when it's cold outside.
I love your sensitivity
I love your blue eyes
I love your deviance, I really do
I love that you are goofy and can make Spencer crack up laughing
I love that you are a good sport
I love that you are athletic and can kick a mean soccer ball
I love that you show no mercy when playing Sorry
I love that you sometimes think that last month was yesterday
I love your smile
I love your silliness
I love you.

Happy birthday Mr. Blue eyes.

Oh, one more thing. Try not to take out anyone's eye with Auntie Megs gift; the giant batman. It shoots 20 feet.

A photo blog

2008-10-21T03:48:00.000-07:00

Raising Rocky or is it Evel?

2008-10-03T11:56:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day because the kids played so nicely that I was able to price tag garage sale items.......

Today was a great day because the kids amazed me by not going wild at the store during a shopping excursion…..

I was thinking I was lucky because the kids played in the driveway on their bikes and scooters while I tagged more garage sale items (yes I am having a garage sale).

My luck ran out when Spencer runs up crying "Mom! I cracked my head open!" I look up to see a very upset boy with blood running down his face. I yell "Oh my God!" which upsets him more. I tell him to get into the bathroom.

While I gather up Sam and rush the other kids into the house I am thinking about what the six year old said: "Mom! I cracked my head open!" which to me means that part of his brain is showing and that he has an actual fissure in his head, but it only looks bad because the blood has seeped into his eye and stuck to his eyelashes.

I inspect his injury and put a wet cold towel on his head. The wound stops bleeding but looks deep, ugly. Luckily a friend takes the two middle kids while I go to the ER. Could you imagine taking all FOUR monkeys to the ER? Wholly headache Batman!

As I arrive at the ER hubby, who is on duty calls asking what I am up to. I tell him. He tells me that he too is at the ER as he cut his finger open and must get stitches. I laugh, but no. It isn't funny that two members of my family are hurt, but it's odd like seeing a two headed frog. NOT that I have seen a two headed frog but I have seen two frogs stuck together while mating.

Anyway, enough about frogs. And mating, which is what got me into this mess. :)

So I am sitting with Evil Knievel when the doc comes in. He begins asking Evil Knievel questions. How did it happen? Does it hurt? Was he wearing a helmet?

Crap! Oh no! I knew I should have enforced it. I thought about it, but they were only playing in the drive-way).

"No. My mom told me not to". Evil says.

"WHAT?!!" I laugh out loud. A chuckle, nervous. Did he just say what I thought he said? I am about to speak when the doctor looks at me. I have guilty painted all over my face, but not because I told my son he couldn't wear his helmet but because I didn't make him wear it. It doesn't matter the reason, I am wearing guilty.

"He wouldn't have gotten this head injury if he were wearing his helmet". The doc says before leaving. I just know he is running to the phone to call social services on me.

I look at Evil Knievel. "Why did you tell him that? I never told you that you couldn't wear your helmet!"

"Well…."

"Why would you tell him that? You don't tell people that".

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

WHAT? Like it's supposed to be a secret!

I think I just got played by a six year old.

PS. Evil (no I am not mis-spelling Evel) got 2 stitches above his eye. He didn't cry once. Not even when they stuck the needle right into his wound. Crazy kid.

Hubby received 7 stitches in his finger. He cut it on a packaging tape dispenser. The jagged edge that cuts the tape. Wow! Right? Who would have thunk it! Geez. Something up in the sky wasn't aligning right or maybe they were.

Lesson learned: Make the kids wear a helmet and never leave a packaging tape dispenser hanging from your pants pocket. It's dangerous.

A peeing he will go, a cleaning I will go, hi ho the dairy....

2008-09-11T05:52:00.000-07:00

Today, late in the afternoon, my not-potty trained 3 year old tells me that he has to go pee pee. HUH? I run into the bathroom and get out the seat cover for him and plop him onto the seat.

"Can I have some juice please?" he asks knowing that this is what he will get if he sits on the potty. We have attempted to potty train before and failed, but he wasn't ready. We plied him with juice to get him to pee. He eventually peed. On the carpet.

I race downstairs for the juice and bring it back to him. I then plop my butt on the child foot stool to wait for that pee. Maybe he will pee I think. Maybe I will get lucky and he will miraculously get it.

"Thank you mommy. Can I have the Bernie toy?" He says pointing to the tub.

"It's Eeeernie. Here."

"Where's your guy?"

I reach over and retrieve the Diego bath toy. I hold it up.

"Hi, my name is Diego. See my nice rescue pack?" I say in my best Diego voice.

"Hi! I'm Bernie. I like to swim!" he says again calling Ernie Bernie.

"Do you have to pee?" I ask the boy.

"I don't know how (pronounced haaaow)." he says with a sad little voice. "Show me how mommy"

"Uhh." Crap! How do I explain this to a 3 year old? "You just let the pee come out when you feel it down there." I point to his wee wee.

"Poop falls out of your butt!"

"Yes it does" Trying not to laugh.

"Pee falls out of my pee pee."

"Yes. It does come out your pee pee. You push it out."

"Like this?" He pushes really hard like he is going to poop until a toot comes out. He looks at me and smiles. "I tooted!"

This all transpired just before dinner. He peed 4 times, in his big boy cotton underwear. The fully padded ones that are not plastic so they leak. Cooking dinner, stopping to clean up pee, cooking, cleaning, cooking,cleaning and so it went. He didn't pee in the toilet once and dinner was late.

I have read about this 3 day method of just getting rid of the diapers all together. I know. You are probably thinking that I should know this. I have done it twice now. I am an old pro. The thing is, I forget and each kid is different.

Anyway, I am not going to put any diapers on him. It is going to be a rough few days. I hope this 3 day method works and that he is potty trained in 3 days. I went out and bought 12 more pairs of underwear.

Oh boy. Better put on my patient hat tomorrow.

Wish me luck! I am going in!

No more monkeys jumping OFF the bed!

2008-09-06T11:07:00.000-07:00

Or 'Watch out for Elijahs head when jumping off of the bed'.

Is there a bath in the house?

2008-08-30T06:58:00.000-07:00

Often and most Saturdays our routine is to get up, eat breakfast and watch cartoons all morning. When we first became parents we knew we would never allow our children to watch lots of tv. HA! Then came the excuse and comments to my husband:

"Okay, so they shouldn't watch a lot of television, BUT ....Well, what did you do on Saturday mornings when you were a kid?"

"Watched cartoons"

I realize that simply because we as children sat on our butts on Saturday mornings watching animated shows does not mean we should allow our children to do just that, BUT I can't just throw tradition out the window with the bath water and not that I throw bath water out the window because quite frankly that would be weird and unnecessary. That's what drains are for. Seriously have you ever met anyone who threw bath water out the window? I haven't.

Okay, so I have changed the expression to fit my situation. Now I wonder where 'throwing out baby with the bath water' came from.

The idea of throwing the baby out with the bath water may be inspired by the relatively few baths taken by people in Europe even before the 16th century. Baths were often thought unhealthy, and they were difficult to prepare, since you had to draw and heat water for everyone to bathe in. This often meant that the same water might be used for a whole family’s bath, and the baby was frequently bathed last. At this point, the bath water might be quite dirty, and might obscure view of the baby. A mother wouldn’t want to mistakenly discard the baby with the dirty, murky water, not that this was likely to occur. Taken From Wisegeek.com

Wholly crap! What a thought!

Those poor babies! Ewwwww!

I think at least one of my children imagines that taking a bath might be unhealthy and would rather bathe outside, in the mud or sand if you will. And then again, one or two of my children thinks taking a bath is the same as swimmin in a pool therefore, giving them reason to splash water everywhere.

Back to my point. I think I had one. Hmmmm...thinking....oh! yes! Cartoons! If only they came on EVERY DAY!! oh wait! I have cable....:)

A Girl and Her Breakfast

2008-08-26T03:40:00.000-07:00

Samantha had her first taste of real food Sunday. I don't think she was too impressed.

A Boy Turns Three

2008-08-22T05:08:00.001-07:00

Three years ago when we looked upon your beautiful face we knew that Gabriel would be your name. An angel for sure. And although over the past 3 years you have, at times exhibited un-angellike behavior we still think of you as our little angel.

"My birthday's August! My birthday's August!" You say over and over when someone inquires of your birth date. Now it's "My birthday's August! I'm 3!"

I know that in time you will learn to share your toys and get along with your brother Elijah and learn not to tease and 'mock' your brothers until they knock you down. I know that one day you won't ask mommy to "Play mommy! Play!"

I realize that one day I will miss those many moments and I will wish you to be 3 years old again. For now I will play dinosaurs and 'guys' and try to keep you from aggravating your siblings.

Six hours at Busch Gardens - Oh My!

2008-08-02T04:50:00.000-07:00

Friday we took the kids to Busch Gardens Europe in Williamsburg. As we headed out the door we didn't let them in on where we were going. They were happily surprised when we pulled off the hwy and made our way to the parking area.

Once inside the park with map in hand Spencer exclaimed how much he wanted to go to the Curse of the Dark Castle. He didn't know anything about the ride, but I will get back to that later.

First stop: The stockade

Can I have one of these installed in my living room? Look at Elijahs face!

Sam and me with big Luke the Clydesdale. Little side note here. The Busch Gardens photographer was going to take a pic but then noticed ol Luke here was sporting a ...uh, let's say he was a hanging low. I laughed my ass off. Michael thinks Luke had a thing for me. HA HA HA! Those things are HUGE!

Elijah and Gabe going for a horse ride. Once the ride started moving Gabe did NOT like this! I had to take him off early.

Elijah loved it though!

Spencer is such a poser!

Going for a train ride. Gabe loved the red train

The cheap..er...adventurous way to eat lunch at an amusement park. A picnic off the parking lot.

Call the dentist!

Posing with Oreo cookie teeth.

Two Kings

Trying on the Kings hat.

Daddy and Spencer on the Escape from Pompei ride. They are the two in the front on the right side. Spencer in the red striped shirt looks like he is trying to bail.

We have arrived in Dragon Land

Monkeys in their habitat

What the heck are we doing here again?

He is such a poser. :)

The Dragon Ride

Elijah and Gabriel go for a ride

Nice Shades!

Spencer and Elijah riding in an egg. Gabriel decided at the last minute that he did not want to ride in an egg. Then of course once it started he wanted to go in the egg then he didn't then he did. He was done for the day.

Once Gabe started getting extra fussy it was time to go. We did however have one more stop to make. The Curse of the Dark Castle. The ride that Spencer insisted that he go on. I decided to go with them on this one. Elijah, Spencer and I stood in line for 45 minutes. I knew nothing of this ride other than it was not a roller coaster and that it was a similator ride. And boy was it ever!

It was our turn. We got in our car, which was more like a box with the front cut out. We sat in our seats, pulled down the bar and put on our 3-D glasses. As the ride began I knew right away this was not going to be an ride for Spencer. Definitely not Elijah.

It was dark. All of a sudden ghostly images appeared right in front of our faces and they looked real. I knew Elijahs eyes were wide open under his 3-D glasses. The whole ride had us going through a haunted castle with skeletons, dark knights throwing things at us and yelling at us. The ride spun around a few times, we went right into a fireplace entering another world all the while flying around in this box car.

At one point it got really dark and the wind picked up almost blowing off my cap. I heard Elijah calling my name. I held onto his arm the whole time trying to reassure him that it was okay. "Close your eyes! Close your eyes!" I couldn't stop laughing. This ride was awesome! Does it make me a bad mother if I find much amusement in scaring my kids? Oh but it was too funny. The look on their faces was priceless.

Spencer said that he did not want to go on that ride again. "I hate that ride!"

All in all it was a very good day. Needless to say we were all exhausted by days end and much to my relief no one woke up with nightmares. Whew!

Today we are off to the beach.

No ghosts there, but it is shark week.

There is such thing as fairies

2008-07-31T11:22:00.000-07:00

Bend over,
Pick, pick, pick

(No I am not picking my underwear out of my butt)
Stand up

Notice more white fluffs on the floor
Bend down
Pick, pick, pick

Ewww! Okay little squishy thing NOT a slug, but a left over macaroni noodle from lunch. Hmmm how the hell did it get way over here from the kitchen? I ponder for a moment and realize the answer just sped by me at mach speed trying to beat his brother to the bathroom to wash hands. Wow. They sure do get excited about washing hands. Good. That is a good thing.

BAM! Wails and screams of injustice commence. Okay, so maybe not such a good thing. Wait. See if they can work it out. Okay. Nope! Intervention! Intervention! Break it up! I holler out some jibberish, but it seems to be successful. More running, then a peaceful ceasefire.

Pick pick pick

These damn white fluffs! I stand up and look around me at the floor. Something is leaking out it's insides. Little white pieces of My Best Friend stuffing is everywhere. I look over at two year old whose holding Best Friend and sucking his thumb while his little finger pokes through one of Best Friends many puncture wounds.

I come up with a plan. I inform the two year old that I must get in touch with the Best Friend fairy so that she can come and fix Best Friend. Meaning that I must find a replacement and soon or I might have to change my name to Hoover. I mention the Best Friend fairy often throughout the week, mostly after pick, pick, picking up white fluff balls.

I successfully located a new Best Friend, which is not easy, but I found one on Ebay. Seriously, Best Friend has been around since 6 year olds infancy. No one else wanted Best Friend until two year old came along.

Once I have the new Best Friend I decide it is time for the take-over. I make the switch while two year old is sleeping.

The next morning two year old wakes. I am there when he discovers something is different about Best Friend, very different. He calls my name and glances at me, while turning the Best Friend over inspecting. "Mom! The best friend fairy! She came and fixed Best Friend! Look!"

There was not a happier kid. He didn't put down Best Friend all day. No more pick, pick, picking. And don't call me Hoover!

Pat, pat, pat
Trying to reach my back. :P

BEFORE:

AFTER:

Later that morning…

Elijah walks up to me with his favorite tattered (but not torn)stuffed lamb animal. "Mom, can you call the Lambie Fairy?"

Uh Oh!

It's a picture thing

2008-07-31T07:00:00.001-07:00

We the family of 6 went to the beach on Monday. Family of 6. Wholly moley never thought I would ever relate that statement to myself. Of course I never thought that I would be looking for hidden boogers either. Life is grand and amazing. I shall shut up now and let you see the pics.

Spencer thinks salty water stinks!

Elijah and Spencer loving life

Daddy and the boys making a sand castle

Baby girl hanging with daddy

Like me in purple?

What a cute smile

Happy girl!

Goofing around

Daddy and his baby girl

The Booger

2008-07-22T06:01:00.000-07:00

"Hey, you have a booger in your nose."

"Huh?" two year old sticks finger up nose pulling booger out of nose and unknowingly smearing it onto his cheek. He looks on his finger.

"Now it's on your cheek"

"Ahhhh" (whine, whine) smearing it away onto his hand.

"Now it's on your hand. No, the other hand. On the top. The other side."

Two year old locates booger and holds his hand out to me, "Here".

I laugh. "I don't want your booger. Go wipe it on a tissue."

"Ahhhhh" Two year old starts walking away. "I don't want to."

"Well, it's not my booger. It's yours."

"No it isn't!" Walking away toward the kitchen.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah"

I am sure in the next day or two that I will come across a little booger smeared on one of the kitchen cupboards.

Today I am the Indiana Jones of boogers, searching for the magic jewel where ever it is hidden.

Arrrrrrr! It is pirate week here and although we have been keeping busy I am sure one of these boys is going to be 'walking the plank' by days end. Arrrrrrr! Count on it!

Re-Training my feet

2008-06-26T03:55:00.000-07:00

Went to the YMCA yesterday. It was great, except that I almost did a face plant on the treadmill. Yeah, that's me the clutz. I was jogging along when my foot went one way while my mind was directing it another. I caught myself but then 10 minutes later I did it again!! WTH!

The second time I really almost fell. Not that I didn't really almost fall the first time, but my stomach hit the bar the second time. Needless to say I was embarassed but just kept on going like nothing happened. I should have just turned around and taken a bow.

Next time I better have my hand over the big red STOP button.

Why is it every time I go back to the gym they have come up with newer machines that I have to learn all over again? Change is hard. I do like the new little fans they have in the treadmills. Now if only they had someone standing by to wipe the sweat from my brow or the back of my neck. Oh and someone to hold up a shield so no one can witness my clumsiness when I fall on my face!

The daycare center was nice. The woman there didn't bat an eye when I showed up with four kids in tow. She told me there was a woman who brought her 7 kids in. 7 kids!!!! Sure made me feel better.

The 3 commandos must have been on their best behavior. The childwatch crew wasn't frantically waiting for me the door when I arrived to retrieve the kids. Hmmm which makes me wonder why they are so wild at home. I think something is up. Must get to the bottom of it.

If I can keep up this new schedule, maybe just maybe by the end of summer I might be able to train my feet to work with me again. Either that or I will have to start wearing a helmet. :)

A Wonderful Homecoming

2008-06-15T16:10:00.000-07:00

Michael is home!

We are so happy to have daddy back.

Homecoming day the excitement was almost too much. As we waited for his ship to come in the kids played on the jetty rocks and rolled around in the grass. Of course rolling in the grass resulted in the boys having burrs all over their clothes and in their hair, which mommy carefully picked off. Nothing was going to ruin this day.

At one point Spencer came over to tell me that since he knew that I was busy (I was nursing Sam) could I look at his leg once I was finished? He had fallen on the rocks cutting his leg. It looked sore and was bleeding. The kid has the pain tolerance of a beast. I took care of it with water, wipes and a band-aid. A mommy comes prepared.

Once we saw the ship getting closer we made our way to the pier, which was packed with people awaiting their loved ones. Manuvering the double stroller through the mass of people was tricky but we made it to the new moms tent. Once situated there we had another 45 minute wait. Can you say ANTICIPATION?

At once point my cell phone rang. It was Michael calling to tell me to look up. I did and saw him waving a pink bunny and a small American flag. Minutes later, many minutes later they lowered the elevators and the new dads made their way to the browser (walkway). Once security opened the gate all the new parents crowded through.

When we saw Michael I was just so happy. I abandoned the stroller and we all ran to meet him. He picked up the two oldest boys then said hello to Gabe. I handed him Sam and gave him a long awaited smooch. It was a sweet moment. Something like this:

The Coin Drop

2008-04-11T21:07:00.000-07:00

Today was an interesting day in our house. As any day I suppose, but today was one for the memory books.

I ventured out of the house, which is not a momumental event. I had errands and important health insurance forms to turn in.

After leaving the insurance office we went to the commissary.

On our way to the commissary we passed a daycare center with a park attached to it. A park that evidently Gabriel really, really wanted to play in. When he realized we were going to the store and not the park, he had a triple melt down.

A triple meltdown as opposed to a double or single meltdown meaning he went into overdrive with his tantrum and cried all the way into the store, past the apples and lettuce and all the way down to the potatoes where I tried to calm him and convince him that helping mommy put items into the cart was fun. Nice try lady.

A nice produce guy appeared holding out an individually wrapped mint. Gabriels tears immediately ceased as his little hand reached for the candy. It worked like a charm and I thanked the nice produce guy again and again and again. Yeah, I know. Technically he was a stranger and one should not teach their children to take candy from strangers but things had reached crisis level. Note to self: stock up on candy.

We completed our shopping with no further meltdowns. There was so much help from Gabriel that I had to take items out of the cart.

Before heading home Elijah and Gabriel found a few coins in the van. They wanted to hold them. I should have known better. At one point I noticed Elijah had a coin in his mouth. I told Elijah to take it out of his mouth as he could get sick. Apparently this important information went in one ear and out the other.

As I pulled the van down our street Elijah started crying. I asked him what was wrong and he told me his tummy hurt. He then informed me the dime was in his belly. Great. He swallowed a dime. What? Really? I asked him. I couldn't believe it. I had just told him what could happen.

Okay.

I had Elijah lay on the couch then I called the doctor and multitasked by putting away the groceries and making lunch. I gave Elijah prunes. The nurse said he should go to the ER.

We went to the ER. He is okay. He has a dime somewhere in his body. During snack time Elijah went running to the bathroom yelling that he had to 'go'. I told him to let me know if he hears a ping from the dime coming out. He probably thinks the dime is going to come out like a coin in a slot. It has not come out yet. I don't think.

Yes that is a copy of Elijah's x-ray and clearly there is a dime there.

The day was a hot 80 degrees. I kicked the boys outside and of course if left too long to their own devices they get into things.

First they began by throwing mud at each other then it escalated to playing with the hose, which I turned off but not before turning the hose on them. When they no longer had the hose to play with they decided to stomp in the water puddles, which turned into mud which turned into mud slinging again, which led me to turn on the hose again to clean them off. Needless to say I had to wash off the house and lay towels inside the door so that they could shed their wet muddy clothes before getting into a shower.

Yeah, it was a good day. It ended with ice cream.

Proof

2008-04-10T04:27:00.000-07:00

As most of you know, I am raising three monkeys. Actually it is four, but the youngest one won't be officially considered a monkey until she shows the signs of monkeyness. No matter, monkeyness seems to run in their blood.

Case in point, my sister Kim came to visit recently. She was driving through and stopped in to say hello. Her and her hubby Dave and her two palmarainian dogs (I probably totally screwed up the spelling but I am too lazy to look up the correct spelling).

One or both dogs peed on my floor. Good grief!

Yes I am ripping on her yippy dogs. She would probably have a dedication done on tv reminiscent (you know you would Kim) of Oprahs recent short film of her dog. Okay! So the woman loves her dogs. I am not terrible fond of small dogs. Nough said.

Back to my point. About the monkeys who reside in my house. Who I feed and bath and helplessly watch as they tear my house apart, sometimes just to see something break. It's true. Recently I found a small piece of a lever from a mini-blind and inquired where it came from, knowing full well the rest of it ly in pieces somewhere for me to find later resulting in a broken vacuum or washing machine.

Anyway....Spencer piped up rather proudly to tell me that it was not very hard to break those. He took it from me and proceeded to make the one piece into two pieces. He was so proud. At that point I figured out who the lever assassin was.

Okay, so I veered a bit off track with this. I will now resume my original intent; proof that there are monkeys living in my house.

To make a long story short. Okay this isn't short, but I am trying.

I have proof......

What does Kim have to do with this? She took the picture as she was leaving. Gotta love those monkeys!!

Always leaving people with a great impression. :)

A few hellos to daddy

2008-04-08T08:19:00.000-07:00

Elijah and Gabriel thought they would say hello to daddy and make a few faces.

Spencer says hello too.

American Idol comes to Suffolk

2008-04-02T05:52:00.000-07:00

Spencer is behind the girl with the pink hat. Look for the big green and blue bird attached to the microphone in the front. Then look behind that for the girl in the pink dress and hat. Spencer is right behind her. He's the one searching the crowd.

Yesterday we went to Spencers schools spring time concert.

The kindergardners performed at the PTA meeting. Of course the first 15 minutes were the PTA notes and blah blah blah. I just wished they would get on with the program and finally the show started.

The kids all marched up to the stands to spring music and then with each song a child announced each song. Spencer had told me that they picked kids from each class to do the annoucements and how glad he was that they did not pick him. Not a public speaker that one.

At first Spencer did not see us and kept scanning the crowd for us. I kept waving like a maniac every time he looked our way. Finally he spotted us and we waved and he smiled and seemed to focus more on singing.

It was so cute. I wish I could have taped the 'Three little Pigs' song and put it on here. I did tape it but not with a memory card, therefore I am unable to post it. It was the best. I loved it and from the applause so did everyone else.

It was a wonderful show. Spencer looked fabulous.

Sleeping Beauty and the zoo

2008-03-24T12:00:00.000-07:00

Sleeping beauty...

and

a day at the zoo.....

The three Muskateers, Sam and I managed to make it through most of the zoo without anyone getting lost or falling into the lion cage.

Samantha

2008-03-03T06:02:00.000-08:00

Okay, so here is the low down, the poopy scoop, the news, the tale of how it happened one night…….

Monday night11:24pm the cramping begins. I wait, counting the minutes, weighing my options. I knew that I had to be certain that this was it. Waking everyone up and having to get the boys loaded into the van was not something that I thought I wanted to do more than one time. Plus I had my friends who were taking the boys to consider. They both worked and I didn't want to wake them unnecessarily.

Finally at midnight I had decided it was in fact 'time to go', my labor had begun. I woke my mother-in-law Chris and we got the boys ready to go, I sent my hubby a pre-written email to let him know. We were on the road by 12:24 am. We dropped the boys at friend's house.

My friend asked how far apart the contractions were. I told her 3-4 minutes and she frowned and gave me the look. The 'are you crazy?' look. She knew we still had 20 minutes drive to the hospital.

Chris flew through red lights and went above and beyond the speed limit. We hoped to get pulled over by the police, but none were taking chase. Where are they when you need them?

We arrived at the hospital and Chris dropped me at the ER and went to park the van. The ER nurse casually wheeled me up to the Labor and Delivery.

By 1:00am I was just arriving at the nurse's station in LAD. My water broke. WTH! What was this? A new feeling, a new experience. Things went crazy for me. People were still calm. I was not. I had to push. I HAD to push!

"Do not push!" the nurses kept saying.

"I can't help it!" I screamed. I could hear them asking me if I was a patient. "Shut the hell up!" I wanted to scream. "I am having a baby! Make the pain stop! Oh my God! Ahhhhhhhhh!"

I managed to get up on the gurney. I think they were afraid Samantha would drop onto the floor. I could not stop bearing down. They wheeled me down the hall and into another room. I was squirming around wildly on the table. What the hell was happening?

Oh hell! Pain! Pain! Push, push! NO! No pushing! Yes! Oh god give me something for this pain!

Eyes squeezed shut. Then open. I see 10-15 people around me, Chris on the outside of the circle. The doc wants me to stop squirming so he can check me. I try. I do. I try and he checks me. I have to push again. PUSH! No! No! Yes!

"Give me something for the pain!" I scream.

"Just push and the pain will stop" the doctor says matter of fact and FINALLY I have permission.

I am fully dilated.

Push! Oh my God! Oh my God!

"Just another push" someone says

"You already said that!" I scream back.

Push! Push! Oh shit! Wholly Mother of God! It hurts!

"Come on Tree! One more push! The head is out! " Chris encouraging me.

Dear god I still have to get the shoulders out.

Shivering, shivering and cannot stop. Baby shakes. My whole body is shaking.

PUSH! Really hard push! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

She's out! Open my eyes and look. She's beautiful.

Oh so beautiful. The most beautiful sight to see.

I Take in the scene and notice I still have my pink maternity top on and my clothes are in a bunch on a table, the nurses working on baby girl under the heating lamp. Cleaning, inspecting. I want to see her. I am still shaking and am now apologizing for acting crazy. Stupid. No need.

Shaking, shivering even though it is done.

Don't touch there doc.! Ouch! Okay. I know you have to check things. Okay, hurry. No tearing? Good and really? No stitches? Still sensitive. Hurry please. And can you cover me up please? I am so exposed. And shivering still, excited, coming down off the brief but wild roller coaster ride.

I did it! Yay! I barely made it to the hospital and sometimes have visions of having the baby in my van enroute to the hospital.

Samantha was born at 1:08am on Tuesday February 26th. She weighed 6.11 lbs and was 20 inches. She is a great baby.

Meet Sam:

A letter to my eggs.....

2008-02-22T11:49:00.000-08:00

Dear Eggs,

Thank you for your generous contribution to my reproductive years. We have had many wonderful years together. You have served me well and come through for me many times. I am not going to be equivocal but rather, I will cut to the chase.

Quite frankly, it is time to end our relationship. Don't worry, I am not going to cut you off completely or kick you out into the street, but I just don't need your services any longer so you can stop producing now. We have had a pretty good run. We have made beautiful miracles together and I thank you, but we must part ways now. The party is over. I have run out of food and drink, literally, due to the delightful miracles you have helped create. These miracles are eating us out of house and home. Really, you should see my bare cupboards. I am like the old woman in the shoe, which is another issue; my age. I am not getting any younger, therefore you really should be slowing down as well.

Although I am happy with the beautiful results of our relationship with Mr. Sperm, your business partner, I can no longer continue this way. I have run out of room in my home. I am going to have to start lining the children up at dinner and assigning them numbers.

I am moving on with my life. I cannot go on with this relationship anymore. I am tired. This baby making business has taken its toll. Your associate Mr. Sperm has not necessarily agreed to this but unless you two can come to some kind of an agreement I refuse further contact.

Please know that this was a difficult decision, but one that must be made. Somehow you will get through this. I know I will.

Thanks again Eggs, I will miss you.

Really, I will.

Your friend,

Tree - Mother of 4

Balloon hugs

2008-02-14T05:39:00.000-08:00

What's this you say? Elijah holding onto a large flesh toned balloon? Nope! That is just mama's ready-to-pop belly. Can we say "Okay, already?"

I must be much amusement to my children. "Oh look! It's that big balloon mommy has in her belly. I wonder if I can throw it up in the air. Um, no, it doesn't come off. Hmmm maybe I will just hug it."

Yes, I am ready to pop! Ready to let the air out of this balloon.

As I roll out of bed, off the couch, waddling like an overgrown duck (quack, quack!) through my day, my thoughts are on the task at hand; keeping sanity in a house of madness. 'What was I thinking' does cross my mind at those rare moments of clarity.

'Just keep swimming' I tell myself.

Almost there.

Just days to go.

2008-02-12T08:41:00.000-08:00

Today.

Goodbye to warmth.

Today.

Bitterly cold at 28 degrees.

It might be warmer then early this morning, but still too cold for me. I hate wearing extra clothes. It is constricting. I have enough constrictions.

Went to docs again. It was busy. We had to park on level 4, isle K. Did I mention it was cold? I guess I should be grateful there isn't a 'Z' Isle.

Baby's heartbeat good, fluids good too.

Coming down in the elevator a woman with a stroller gets on the already full elevator. We all make room. It's a mom and it's cold outside. Elevator gets to ground level. The doors open. I wait for woman with stroller to get off. The cold air is whipping in my face. She doesn't move. I am stuck behind her. She looks at me, "Oh, are you getting off?" I probably give her an odd look while I am thinking: Um, yeah. This is the ground floor. No where else to go.

She looked surprised that I was getting off the elevator, like I was inconveniencing her. I squeeze past her with my three bags (one bag for Gabe's daycare room, one bag for Elijah's daycare room and my purse) and tell her: "I don't know what you are doing", thinking that she is an idiot and I get off the elevator. I am tempted to look back at her, but keep going. Maybe she thought she got on an elevator going up.

Did I mention it was cold? I hate being cold.

Was I rude? Maybe, but I was cold.

The woman didn't say excuse me. She wasn't concerned that she had literlly trapped all the people in the elevator as she had her stroller parked sideways blocking the door. One would have to step over the stroller to get out.

Ahh, crap! Maybe she was cold too and just stupid.

Cankles, floods and another tooth comes out

2008-02-09T17:17:00.000-08:00

Upon ending the previous blog I mentioned that I would probably get the 'bug'. I did and it sucked. A lot. Now that is all behind me. The kids are good and not puking anymore. At least not because they are sick, but there has been an occasional vomit at the dinner table from one kid shoving too much food into his mouth. Oh the joy!

I am ballooning up! I have discovered my cankles. Can you say water retention?

I am amazed that I can even see my feet with this big belly sticking out. We have just 18 days left to go. Let's hope Sam decides to make her appearance on time and not early. I tell her to wait. Yes, that means I talk to my belly.

These days I am keeping my gas tank at least half full. You never know! I wouldn't want to run out of gas on the way to the hospital. Some days I imagine driving myself to the hospital while in labor, with the kids bouncing around in the backseat. That would be something to write about.

We are having our kitchen redone. Thursday we had our new laminate floor installed in the kitchen. Friday morning I flooded the downstairs because the contractor who said it was okay to run the washer failed to put the hose back into the wall and my rinse cycle leaked out onto the floor, the new laminate floor, which is not supposed to get that wet. It had to be replaced. The water soaked a large area. The levee broke!

Momma was a freaking out! I didn't have enough towels to dry the floor.

The best part about Friday is that the floor was replaced by the end of the day. Way to go contractors.

Today I took a long warm bath. It was nice, quiet for about 3 minutes. Then of course I had company, and then more company as the boys crowded around the tub to ask me a million questions. Couldn't this wait? I told them "out"! Moments later Spencer returned very excited to tell me that another one of his teeth had fallen out. He jumped up and down and then ran down the hall to tell Elijah and to show him his bloody tooth. It's now safely tucked under his pillow. I must remember to switch it out with a dollar. Since (according to him) he never sleeps this might pose a problem. I must be sly.

Michael and I are almost to the halfway point. It seems like it should be more than half way. If only. He will be home before we know it and then I am taking a leave of absence. Ha ha ha!

Dodging, phone calls and puke

2008-01-22T10:24:00.000-08:00

Am I the only parent who has to run for a closet or bathroom when the phone rings? Seriously, these kids have lost their mind! They have it in for me.

Yesterday morning, the boys and I are gathered on my bed looking through a photo book. We are reminiscing, having one of those moments. The phone rings and immediately all hell breaks loose. Gabriel wants the photo book, but brother won't give it to him, let alone allow him to view it. Gabriel starts carrying on as if someone bit him, which has happened so I know that sound.

I run into the bathroom to escape the madness and to hear who is on the phone. It's a good thing it was the bathroom I ran to as now I have to pee from running. sigh. The person on the phone is someone about cabinets and flooring. Another possible lead. I must take the call.

The race is on. Gabriel manages to get into the bathroom so I walk down the hall with him in loud pursuit.

I momentarily stop, tell the man on the phone "excuse me" and try to calm Gabriel. I rush into the bedroom with him and tell big brother to let Gabe see the book. "Sharing is caring!" I want to scream but remain calm. I think everything is good and walk away, down the hall because there is residual crying.

I attempt the converstion again, but the crying persists and Gabriel has found me again. The man tells me 'it's okay" and that he has kids and loves kids. Great. That doesn't make me feel any less stressed. I try to talk, to listen, to dodge the crying kid. Just one more minute. Come on! Come on! We are almost done with our converstion.

Crap! Now the other line is ringing. No one ever calls and now two calls in 3 minutes? What the hell is going on in the universe?

I am trying to end the call so that I can get the other one. I contemplate not answering the other line. There is too much happening, but what if it is the volunteer doula that I am anxious to talk to.

As I answer the other line Gabriel reaches up to me and lets out a very loud scream. Right into the phone. I apologize and hope that it is grandma on the line, who would understand and not mind the noise, might even laugh about it.

It is not grandma. I apologize and again try to dodge the crying by walking around. It is the cabinet people I recently met with telling me they are going to be sending out the quote. I quickly tell the woman "okay, okay. That sounds fine. Thank you. I appreciate it". She must sense my desparation as she ends the call.

I wonder why I answer the phone. Oh, yeah, I need the outside contact of other human adults. The children want me all to themselves. I just want to scream:

"SHARING IS CARING!!"

And this was just 3 minutes of my day. :)

Another 3 minutes took place today. Let me digress. The boys have been sick. It began with Spencer vomiting on Saturday night. He laid on the couch all of Sunday with a nasty stomach bug that had him vomiting and without an appetite. Monday he woke feeling better and no sign of sickness.

Same day, after breakfast as I am clearing things away, Elijah comes to me with a sour look and points to his mouth then proceeds to vomit all over the floor. I get him stripped down and send him to the bathtub and manage to keep the other kids away from the mess. I clean it up and take care of Elijah who takes Spencers previous position on the couch, all day. Elijah seems worse though and cannot keep down even the water he drinks.

He wakes this morning and says he feels all better. I am waiting for Gabriel to vomit. It's bound to happen.

After lunch Elijah tells me his mouth hurts. I don't think much about it as I am sure he just bit his tongue until I hear a splash on the floor behind me. Yeah, there goes another round of vomit. Poor kid. A few seconds later Gabriel comes to me with vomit down the front of his shirt. He points to the living room and tells me "I puke". Yes two puke piles in less than a minute. Maybe we should just have crackers for dinner.

Now the boys have had a bath and are playing upstairs. I don't know what is going on, but they didn't want a nap and seem fine other than the fact that when they eat, they puke.

I will just have to watch them carefully and hope that they feel better.

I am sure that I am next, although I think that I have already gotten it, but have not reacted the same. I do have an upset stomach alot lately, although that could be from cleaning up vomit as that does tend to make me sick.

Hey! It's Tuesday! I know. That doesn't mean anything.

:)

Catching up

2008-01-10T18:13:00.000-08:00

Christmas was fabulous. What more can I say?

New Years was quiet. I was sleeping by midnight, although awake minutes after due to the fireworks and noise of the New Year revelers.

Lately, I am anxious to have this baby girl. It is getting increasingly difficult to bend over without grunting. I guess I should be thankful, I can still see my feet and I haven't gotten cankles. Yet. The problem is in reaching my feet. Those Crocs are looking more appealing every day. Can we say slip on shoes?

Spencer lost his first tooth. He literally lost it. It came out while he was at school. The teacher told him to put it in his pocket. He probably took it out to look at it and imagine how many toys he could buy with the loot he was going to get from the tooth fairy. Earlier that day while discussing the tooth fairy with him he said that he is going to be rich now. The tooth fairy left him a dollar under his pillow. He bounded into my room this morning to show the dollar to me.

I mentioned to him that he might have gotten more than a dollar if the tooth fairy actually had a tooth to retrieve. He thought that he probably would have gotten a thousand dollars if he had the tooth. If only.

Tonight Gabriel slept in his big boy bed with the boys. At first I thought it was going to be a challenge. I trudged up the stairs 3 times in 10 minutes. Do you know what that does to a big ol pregnant woman who hasn't exercised in months? A lot of huffing and puffing.

He wanted to tell me he was on the bottom bunk and Elijah was on the top bunk. Soon his excitement wore off and the sleepy dust started to settle and he went to sleep. Of course his refusing to take a nap today made things easier.

If only I could sleep like that.

A Chrismas Story in Pictures

2007-12-25T09:57:00.000-08:00

Decorating homemade cinnamon ornaments:

What is left of Gabriels ornament. He painted and painted and painted! He wouldn't let me take it away to dry but just wanted to paint it.

Getting a light saber for Christmas.

A boy and his Power Ranger

The Spiderman toy

Can't forget the slinky!

Putting their heads together to build the T-Rex Wrecker

Mother and daughter making the dressing

No roasting pan? No problem! We can improvise!

Merry Christmas Michael! We miss you very much and will be thinking of you today.

Babbling on...

2007-12-16T07:56:00.000-08:00

This morning, another hour I survived through church with three children.

Father Michael (NOT Michael, the father of my children) shook my hand, smiled and asked if I was going to stay. It was another birthday Sunday. As he spoke, visions of the previous birthday Sunday scraped through my mind causing me to involuntarily shiver.

As I shook fathers hand and smiled, I mentioned that it gets a bit crazy. He just insisted and said "Really please stay, enjoy some cake and meet some people". I just smiled again and said 'maybe'.

Is it a sin to NOT take the advice of a priest? I didn't commit to going into the social hall. I just said maybe in my really low voice. He probably didn't even hear me.

As I walked to the van I imagined the priest stalking me with his eyes, watching to see if, in fact I went into the social hall or kept going. Sorry to disappoint. I felt guilty. I wanted to go in. I did! But I had already experienced a birthday Sunday. It was very crowded. People just stepped around us, I didn't meet anyone. Well, except the nice cake lady and we know how that ended.

All the way home I wondered if this would be added to my naughty list when it came time for confession. Yeah, and father Michael would probably be the priest taking the confessions.

The boys are good, their usual selves. Spencer counts down the days until Christmas on the Santa calendar we got from Chris. My shopping is complete. I think. There is always another thing to get and as I type this I realize I did miss one, but it's an easy online one so no more sweating it out with the kids at the store with all of the other crazies.

I am at 30 weeks. Can't believe I only have 10 weeks to go until Samanta is born. Whew! How time flies. Actually, I have an appointment today. The sugar glucose test thing. I have to drink a sugary drink and then sit around for an hour and then go back in for them to check my sugar levels. I am going to take advantage of that time. A book? Snatches of peace and quiet, a blessing.

Have a splendid day! Will get the 30 week belly shot soon.

A picture is worth a thousand words

2007-12-14T17:26:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again; a time for shopping, hanging with the family, baking, traveling and more shopping and taking the kids to meet Santa. This pic is our cheapie, freebie we received at Wal-mart, hence, the bad quality. You get what you pay for, or in this case what you don't pay for.

Yes, I DID go shopping with the boys and managed to get out of there in one piece.

As the boys and I strolled down the toy isle so Elijah could 'look' at the toys I spotted a very un-Santa, Santa. I think this Santa is actually a woman. Mrs. Claus filling in?

As we approached this she-Santa, Gabriel had a peculiar look on his face. He was definitely sizing up the she-Santa. Maybe he was wondering why this Santa looked a little bit different than the ones he has seen depicted in the books we read. At any rate, he pointed and said "Santa!"

The Wal-mart staff informed me that they were taking pics and would we want one? After moments pondering whether I wanted to chance it and remain in the store for a few minutes more I decided to get their pics done. What the heck!

As we were leaving Spencer said to me "Mommy, you know that's not Santa". He really is too smart for his own good. I just told him that yes I knew and that Santa is very busy and sometimes has people help him out. He seemed to know that's what I was going to say and agreed with me.

Then of course it really was time to get out of the store. Can you say: Poopy pants?

This morning I locked myself, Elijah and Gabe out of the house. Elijah cried that his throat hurt and there was nothing I could do. My neighbor was there and said she would help. She did, bless her heart.

With the quick thinking of a seasoned veteran I unlocked the van and put a DVD on for the boys to watch. I did have my van keys, but the previous day I had taken the house keys off the ring for reasons that are unimportant so I won't explain other than to say I kept seeing that damn house key on the counter, thinking that I should put it back on my key chain.

Always go with your intuition.

Luckily I had left the upstairs master bedroom window unlocked. The neighbor got a ladder and screw driver to pry off the screen. I will from now on be locking that window just in case anyone thinks they are going to get into my house that way.

As my neighbor climbed up into my bedroom I quickly ran through my mind the condition of my room. My bedroom is my sanctuary. Did I have undies lying about or was my bed a mess? I didn't think so and was right; there was no need to worry. Would you have? Maybe I am just weird to think about that.

Then I began to ponder the thought of what if I did have undies or personal items lying about. NOT that I have weird personal items lying about mind you!

Would I have just called a lock smith to avoid embarassment?

Yes.

I would have paid someone to open my house up instead of having my neighbor see what kind of underwear I own or how messy my room may have been. Afterall, there are times when the housework gets put on the backburner around here. I mean, sheesh! Despite what some might think, I really am not super woman! :)

Okay, so maybe that's TMI.

Elijah drew a very cute picture of me today. As he proudly handed me the picture he said "Here, this is a picture of your big fat belly mom". Gee. Thanks kid.

Great picture don't you think! Elijah is finally beginning to draw shapes. Yay! And yes Michael it does resemble one Spencer would draw. Hmmm wonder if maybe this is hereditary? Do we have aliens in our blood line?

Speaking of Elijah, he is doing well. He does have his moments in the middle of the night when his throat is very sore, but otherwise he is a trooper.

Michael sent me a few pics of himself on the ship. Unfortunately, I cannot open them, except for one, which doesn't really showcase his new look. Here, hanging upside down with his commanding officer is the new mustached Michael.

WARNING!!!!! What you are about to see may shock you. Viewer discretion is advised!!!!!

I know. It is difficult to see his face, but we are still working on getting more pics. I have another idea on how to get the pics opened. When and if it works, I will post them.

Here's hoping the Christmas season is treating you kindly and that you are filled with the spirit of giving. My address is....................ha ha ha!

AND let's hope the magic of Santa makes it through another year in our house.

See ya tonsils and some pics- UPDATED!

2007-12-06T16:43:00.000-08:00

Bright and early tomorrow morning Elijah and I will set off to the hospital to have his tonsils removed. He has been a good sport about it and has not seemed worried. I asked him tonight if he had anything he wanted to know about the surgery. He just jumped around and said that tomrrow he and I would go to the hospital. Tomorrow he will probably be singing a different tune, but I am equipped. I have the ice cream, frozen fruit pops and ice cream sandwiches, plus juice and apple sauce. Unfortunetly for Elijah Fridays around here are Pizza Fridays. He will not be able to enjoy the pizza.

Today we made the cake, decorated it with blue icing and sprinkles. Good-bye Tonsils. We all enjoyed a piece of the cake, which of course ended up all over faces and little hands, which I did not get a picture of.

When there's no one to take a pic of me I get Spencer. He did good! A natural.

UPDATE!!!!

Elijah got through the surgery well. He is resting when he can and eating lots of ice cream sandwiches and fruit pops. He is miserable, but is holding up. Poor little guy.

When the doctor came out to tell me Elijah was out of surgery he told me that Elijah's tonsils were enormous. What we could see looking into his mouth was just the tip of the ice berg. Let's hope this helps his loud snoring!!

Chris, Elijah loved his Power Ranger and will enjoy playing with his sticker books once he gets better. He has the PR sitting with him on the couch as the kids watch Scooby Doo (another winner)! Spencer REALLY REALLY wants to watch the Grinch so that one is next.

TMI and a day at the park.

2007-12-01T11:35:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, my neighbor was kind enough to watch the boys while I ran to the mall.

Ever go to a mall with 3 kids? Yeah, Michael I know you have. It's crazy and I suppose some people might get a rush from that kind of thing, but me, I will stay grounded and sane, thank you.

I arrived at Macys to restock my low supply of Clinique.

Yeah, I know, but whatever! Shut uuuup!

I was wearing this shirt:

And before anyone gives me crap about it, don't! It's my shirt and I think it is funny. Besides, I think I have earned the right to wear it!

Anyway, as I am waiting for the saleslady to finish with a very chatty customer the saleslady keeps looking at my shirt and finally asks what it says.

I never imagined the conversation that would come from wearing this shirt. Really, maybe I am just from another time and space, but the things strangers will divulge to you. Shocking!

Clinque saleslady tells me and the chatty customer that she doesn't use brith control and hasn't had to use BC for 2 years and hasn't gotten pregnant, NOT that she is promiscuos or anything, she adds.

!!!!!!!!!!!!

Do I have something written on my forehead?

I smile and politely nod as if to say 'Okay. I see. Now can you stop telling me this?'

The polite nod doesn't work.

Now the chatty customer chimes in because now it's okay to talk about personal business with perfect strangers, although 'chatty' and saleslady may know each other, I doubt it. Chatty tells us about how BC makes her fat and crabby and how she had some operation because her flow was heavy and that because of the operation she couldn't have children and her doctor never told her THAT, but it's okay because she has two kids.

I just stood there with that polite smile. I think at this point the Clinique saleslady knew it had gone too far too.

WTH!!! Who does this? I dont' want to hear about your 'flow' lady! I have enough gross things to deal with on a daily basis. TMI!

Anyway,

I took the kids to the park, which was fun for them, but cold! Brrrrr! Can we go back to Cuba now?

Here are some pics of our park outing:

Have a great day!

A birthday party

2007-11-26T06:15:00.000-08:00

Saturday was Spencer's 6th birthday party. Wow! How time flies when you are having fun and wiping noses and changing dirty diapers and tying shoes and fixing boo boos and watching them off to their first day of school. Before you know it they are off to college.

*Sigh*

Spencer decided on a Scooby Doo theme.

Fun with friends

Wonder what Gabe is thinking about.

Elijah enjoys the cake!

The superheroes.

The day ended with the kids playing outside with Spencer's new torpedo plane transformer, which I received much slack for from Meghan.

Apparently I am going to see many toys such as these in the future, complements of Meghan.

Speaking of Meghan, can you come back? We so miss you round here. It seems so quiet here after you left. NOT that you made a lot of noise or anything. The boys kept saying how they missed you. At the end of the day I ask them each what was their best and worst part of the day was. When I asked them what the worst part was they said when Meghan left.

I will make more of the pink stuff. :)

The Teddy Bear Award

2007-11-21T11:16:00.000-08:00

Spencer made the Teddy Bear Honor Roll this semester. He has an almost perfect attendance, does great with his academics and makes friends easy. We attended the ceremony at his school yesterday. He was so cute waving to us from afar. This was the best shot I could get of him.

Here are Gabriel and Elijah at the park today. Today it was 75 degrees outside. We aren't complaining.

Have a great Thanksgiving.

Is it bedtime yet?

2007-11-18T19:17:00.000-08:00

Do you ever wonder what goes through a child's mind when he decides to smear poo on the wall or worse, use a clean white towel to wipe the poo? Yeah, I know I am going where no one wants to go.

Deal with it.

Or you could just skip past this part. It's your choice. Really.

Last chance to bypass the poo.

The other day I was in the boys' bathroom and I notice a yucky, what-no-one-wants-to-find smear on the wall. I knew what it was immediately. I have kids. Kids do weird things. Really weird things. Gross things too.

I reach down for the Clorox wipes, thinking for the millionth time how wonderful Clorox is for inventing this minor convenience and how lucky I am for living in this century because really I don't think I could have made it in the era before me with all the clothe diapers and hand washing of the clothes. Laura Engalls I am not.

I proceed to clean the smear. I notice the once clean white towel on the floor and pick it up to hang it back on the rack. I find more of these smears which lead me to further inspect the bathroom. The white rug has also been violated.

As I gather up the contaminated items for a good bleach wash, I am wondering what goes through the mind of a child as he is wiping poo on a fresh white towel.

So I ask and get this answer: "It wouldn't come off! I couldn't get it to come off!" Very matter of fact. Oh the sweet innocence of a child.

I look at the boy who is actually wearing an exasperated look on his face and I mention that he could have just used more toilet paper and in the future please do not use the clean white linens to wipe ones bum.

I get a grim "yes mommy" in reply with a shuffling of the feet as he heads in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Did you wash your hands?" I ask as he shuffles away.

I don't even get a reply from the boy, just a gruff noise as he heads into the bathroom to wash his hands.

So far no signs of a repeat, but I am certain it will happen again. There are three of them.

POO PART DONE!! FOR THOSE WHO SKIPPED AHEAD!!

Elijah is scheduled to have his tonsils removed on December 7th. Send him love that day. I am sure he will need it. We borrowed a book from the library about a kid who gets her tonsils removed.

Like the book I may just make Elijah a 'Good-bye Tonsils' cake and have a party for them. Weird I know. We mothers do weird things. Must be where the kids get it right? No not that weird. I know what you are thinking and I have long since left any smears on walls!! Just like Trix, it's for kids. And maybe crazy people. Of course you could say that I…..oh forget it! I am getting away from the purpose of this blog.

This week we are having a wonderful surprise for Thanksgiving and Spencer's 6th birthday. Meghan will be flying in on Wednesday evening. The boys are going to be so thrilled. I have not told them yet. I am not going to. They will find out at the airport. I love surprises and am so happy to have Meghan visit.

Yay! For Meghan!

Today at church the priest said something in his homily about the 'stupid' commentary that comes from the news media. I don't remember what it was about. Really, church is usually a blur. I can give you three lovely good reasons why.

Anyway, when the priest said the word 'stupid', Spencer looked over at me, his mouth agape.

I almost laughed out loud. He was shocked to hear the priest say stupid as we tell the kids it is not nice to say stupid. Spencer was sitting two kids over and literally leaned over and looked at me with that expression on his face. Priceless!

We had decided to go to the social hall after mass to have juice and cookies. The place was packed! It was birthday Sunday so everyone who had a birthday in November was there. I got the kids juice and myself coffee, then we sat down. The kids were eyeing the cake from across the room. No one was eating any yet. I didn't know what to think. At this point I didn't even know it was birthday Sunday.

After the kids finish their juice we are just sitting there among the throng of strangers and chaos, I decide to exit the building. On our way out I accidentally spill warm coffee on Gabes shirt and he begins to cry. I hug him and tell him I am sorry. Then a nice lady comes over and asks us if we are staying for cake. The kids eyes light up and I am thinking "thanks lady, I was just about to escape the madness". She then scoops up Gabriel and takes him over to show him the cake. Now she's done it! Sigh!

They begin the birthday introductions then everyone sings happy birthday followed by a mad rush for the cake. Now remember people, I am here alone with three kids who think they are going to get cake, BUT and it's a huge BUT, I am not willing to put myself through the agony of juggling three plates of cake, forks and napkins AND trying to keep the kids together AND by my side. I just can't do it. The cake line is too long!

I leave. The boys are dissappointed, but I reassure them we are getting donuts or cake on the way home. Gabriel does not take this news well. Remember, he got a close up view of the cake by nice lady who meant well. He protests by standing in the middle of the parking lot screaming.

I calmly walk over to him and lead him to the van. He simmered down and on our way to Walmart we went, which is a whole other story, but I have shared enough for the day. BUT I will say, the people at the walmart pharmacy are idiots!

On another note, this one is for Chris and Bill. Sorry no singing toddlers, but look!

The A&M fans!

All in a day

2007-11-12T12:18:00.000-08:00

Sunday our sailor left the building. He went on his way to far away places to see distant lands and peoples. We will miss our sailor.

Last week was busy as I was taking childcare classes all week. The weekend came and went and here we are at Monday. Already a week has passed since Michael left.

Today we ventured out into the big world, just me and the three of them, those kids, the ones that are likely to break things and raise hell wherever they go. I survived our day out. A mother's victory.

First we went to the ENT doctor to see about Elijah's enlarged tonsils.

Elijah did well. The other kids were good too except for the few moments when Elijah decided he wanted the dump truck Gabriel was playing with and a scuffle ensued.

No one was hurt.

While in the doctor's office the boys maintained their composure. Gabriel tooted at one point and stunk up the room. I had to mention it to the doctor. I didn't want him thinking it was me!

The doctor recommended the tonsils come out. I agreed. The procedure is brief. The doctor said it would take 45 minutes for the actual procedure and then a few hours for recovery, then Elijah can go home. The nurse will call us to set up the time. The sooner the better I say.

Our day was not yet over as I had decided to visit the commissary for a bit of food shopping. Spencer helped me at first with picking out items and putting them into the cart while Elijah and Gabriel sat in the attached car. The calm lasted about 10 minutes, then Elijah and Gabriel had a fight over who was going to hold the Jello and marshmallows. I gave Elijah chocolate chips to hold. It seemed to satisfy him for the time being.

Elijah hit Gabriel in the head with a can of beans minutes before Spencer bonked heads with Gabe. Poor kid is going to have brain damage if this doesn't end. Halfway through our shopping Elijah had to pee. We parked our cart and found the restroom. Okay. That is taken care of. When you gotta go, you gotta go!

Back to the cart. All is going well. Now Spencer has to pee. Huh? Why do children do that? They must be in collusion with each other trying to see how crazy they can make mommy.

I convinced Spencer to hold it. We were almost to the last isle and my last nerve.

While putting items on the counter for the cashier to scan, Gabriel decided to throw a tantrum, screaming included. He was very attached to the car cart that would not fit through the check-out isle. He held on, screaming as I tried to pry his little fingers off. He let everyone know that he was not happy.

It's a good thing I took my sane pills today. After bringing Spencer to the bathroom to pee we exit stage left, bagger rolling our groceries behind us. Of course I didn't bring any cash with me so had to scrounge for a tip. I felt like a cheap skate.

Had a panicked moment when the van wouldn't start until I realized that I had put the car into drive before attempting to start it. See what stress can do to a person?

For some reason the car ride home was quiet. Not a peep out of the kids. Maybe they thought they were in trouble or most likely they were behaving for brownie points to get their hands on the fruit roll ups with tongue tattoos.

All in all the day was productive. Now I need a nap

'Big and Tired'

Have you had your Halloween candy today?

2007-10-31T16:32:00.000-07:00

Halloween. What a joy. No. Really. We love it! The kids love it for the costumes, jack-o-lanterns and candy. I love it for the candy. Once the kids are in bed, I raid those candy bags like a true chocolate fiend. Come on people! You know you have sacrificed your self-control to take part in this candy raid. Taking candy from a kid, we should be ashamed!

You know you have taken what you liked when the kids weren't looking. You tell yourself that you must check the candy in case it's been tampered with. Yeah, if that's what you must tell yourselves. They'll never know, at least not until they grow up and do the same thing to their kids. It's so easy!

Seriously, I didn't have to raid this year, as today we received a Halloween box of treats from Peg. The chocolate was a nice touch! Elijah loved the talking witch bowl. He carried it around the house with him listening to it's sounds, until I finally stopped him before he headed into the bathroom with it. Gabriel had a blast sitting on that hand painted pumpkin, squeezing it, and throwing it around. I did finally take it away. I mean, it is hand painted so I thought he should probably just look at it. Yeah. Like that's going to happen.

Tonight the boys had a great time running around begging for candy. Spencer and Elijah were their usual superhero selfs. Gabriel got the hang of this new thing very quickly. He put on the charm and went right for that candy bowl. I am sure that if he knew singing would get him more bang for the buck he would have belted out a few tunes. He would be dubbed the singing pumpkin of Burbage.

Of course the boys are going to be thrilled come Friday when they are treated to a few hours of Kangaroo Jacs and a pizza dinner complements of Grandma Chris and Bill. Thank you! They don't know yet about their Friday Halloween surprise. They loved the skeleton card. Spencer wanted to hang it on the front door.

Happy Halloween!

Sending out Orange love for the aunties

2007-10-30T16:08:00.001-07:00

What can I say? He's going to make us millions one day with his charm, good looks and wonderful singing voice.

Halloween Stuff

2007-10-29T09:16:00.000-07:00

This past weekend was somewhat productive. Michael has made progress on the downstairs half bath. At least I won't have to climb the stairs every time I have to 'go' which is a lot these days. Go figure.

Halloween is approaching. Saturday we took the boys to the Halloween party at one of the hangers on base. The boys enjoyed themselves. Elijah was a little nervous going through the fist hallway of doom, which was a spooky hallway of cobwebs, monsters and loud scary music.

Of course the kids ate tons of cotton candy and popcorn and other sweet treats and more cotton candy.

They consumed so much sugar they were bouncing off the walls even later that day. Mental image: Have you ever seen a cat in a very energetic mood? Yeah, only there are three of them and they are bigger and more destructive. Fortunately we did not have another episode of this:

We don't have a costume for Gabriel just yet. I wanted to make him into a pirate as we have all that is needed, or so I thought. Seems some of the pieces to his costume have gone missing. Maybe he can be Spiderman. We have plenty of those!

Case in point our two superheroes:

ANXIOUSLY waiting for cotton candy. They should serve it with an antidote.

More EATING!!

The Boys

And in case you are wondering, I am not dressing up as Hotgirl. As a certain person mentioned, I might be too old for that! :)

Oh and you know, you can comment here. We like that. Go ahead! Just left click below where it's printed '0 comments' and go from there.

It's Cheaper than a Spa Treatment!

2007-10-27T06:05:00.000-07:00

Tonight, I carved a pumpkin and got a little goofy. Got a little goofy? Okay, so I don't have a miniature Disney goofy running around my house. No, just goofy kids. Let's just say my brain was pretending to be on drugs.

I carved a pumpkin. One. That was enough for now. Try carefully placing a stencil onto a pumpkin then carving it while children are grabbing at the knives, tools and wiggling the table. It takes special skills. Skills one can acquire with patience and time.

I thought a wicked tree might be appropriate. Get it? Tree. Ha ha ha!

The Jack O' Lantern

Of course I hate to waste anything so I decided to put the pumpkin pulp to good use. After separating the seeds from the pulp I retrieved my Magic Bullet and spun up some good ole homemade pumpkin facial mask.

But first! I tried to layer my face with the raw, stringy pulp. It kept sliding off. Hmmm imagine that.

While walking around the kitchen with my head tilted back and pumpkin pulp on my face husband noticed and had to comment that SOMETHING was wrong with me.

Then, I had a thought! The Magic Bullet! And so I began.
A little bit of honey and some oatmeal and walla!

It was a bit drippy, but I now have pumpkin mask in the frig for a once or twice a week treatment.

I could make millions!

If you are interested it's $100.00 per 4oz. bottle of pure organic pumpkin facial mask. Bib not included.

Of course husband refused to participate. Maybe I will put it on his face when he is sleeping. Then take a picture. Maybe I will use that picture for Christmas cards this year.

Gooberville

2007-10-24T11:27:00.001-07:00

Meet the Goobers!

Especially notice the nice looking one on the far right.

Before leaving Cuba the boys decided to try on their winter coats. Yeah, I think I better tell husband that his coat is a bit too small.

Hotgirl does not approve!

And here we have another goober.

Let's all be thankful that he does not have natural red hair. It does not suit him, although he is still a cute kid.

And then we have the singer goober. Sorry about the quality of this. It was bedtime and dark and we ran out of memory to finish the song.

The Bump

2007-10-23T08:51:00.000-07:00

Remember that dance called 'The Bump'? I remember my sisters doing the bump. Back then, in the days of heavy blue eye shadow, elephant pants and hip huggers, which are today called low-rise jeans. Those were the days when people only bumped against hips and bootie NOT the newest rated R version.

If you don't remember, I must be old. SOMEONE must remember that dance!

Okay, so this blog is not really about dance moves from the 70's.

Nor is it about that kind of bump.

It's about a bump called Samantha.

She is a beautiful little bump. Sometimes when I am lying down to sleep she goes bump, bump with her foot or hand against my belly. Then there are the times when she pushes her little foot or hand down into my belly as if reaching to get out. Maybe she is trying to see how many times she can make mommy go to the bathroom.

She seems to be in constant motion. When the midwife attempted to find Samantha's heart beat Samantha switched positions. She moved around a lot when the ultrasound tech took the above picture. She may come out running. She should conserve her energy; she has three older and very active brothers to keep up with.

She is 22 weeks now.

The bump:

Happy Birthday Elijah

2007-10-21T05:00:00.000-07:00

Superman woke late Saturday morning along with Hotgirl who also slept in from a late night at the ER.

Hotgirl? You ask. Yes, around here my superhero name is Hotgirl. Whenever my little superheros are in Superhero mode I am usually referred to as Hotgirl instead of the usual 'mommy'! It is a title I take with pride. I mean come on! It is a great superhero name AND apparently I can shoot fire from my hands.

Now, if only I can change poopy pants with a blink of an eye or twist my wrist and have the house spic and span.

By 3:00 Elijah was anxious to start his superhero birthday party. "Can I open my presents? I want some cake!" Followed by a poke into the frosting with his finger.

Once the guests arrive the kids took over the house, while we mere parents sat watching the chaos, attempting snippets of conversation whenever possible.

After the kids play the stick the spidee mask onto the spiderman poster we sit down for a Happy Birthday song. Now he can eat his cake and ice cream. Elijah was in cake heaven.

Elijah was happy with his party and his gifts. It was a great day. Today we are planning a trip to Kangaroo Jacs to go jolly jumper crazy. This place has ten or more jolly jumpers all in one place. You pay a fee and the kids go from jolly jumper to jolly jumper.

Now this Hotgirl is off to do what all SAHMs do, lay on the couch!

One night in ER

2007-10-20T08:37:00.000-07:00

Last night was rough! Not the kind of rough that is self-inflicted like doing something stupid after too many drinks but rather the kind of rough that breaks your heart into a million pieces while sitting with your child in an emergency room.

Before I go any further let me assure you he is okay.

Elijah and I headed to the ER at 8pm on Friday as he was talking like he had golf balls in his throat and his tonsils were so swollen we couldn't see the back of his throat.

He didn't complain of any soreness and didn't have a fever so we didn't notice this problem until it had gotten so bad.

The triage nurse did a strep swab of Elijah's throat, which later came back negative. The admitting nurse almost choked when she saw Elijah's tonsils and said she had never seen tonsils THAT swollen.

Way to make me feel better lady.

The wait in the ER was tremendous, but Elijah was a trooper only fussing a bit after being there for an hour and a half and finally falling asleep in mommy's lap.

We were brought to an examining room around 10pm where Elijah could watch a show on the tv and curl up with a blanket on the bed. He seemed content.

The doc came in an hour or so later and did the usual million questions and then looked at Elijah's tonsils which he agreed they were quite swollen. Elijah would have had to be admitted if there was an abscess or if the tonsils got anymore swollen blocking his air way.

The doc had the supervising physician come in to examine Elijah. She decided that a cat scan should be done on him to make sure there was nothing lurking behind Elijah's tonsils as they could not see past the swollen glands.

This meant he would have to have an IV in order for them to administer the dye for the x-ray.

This is where the really heart wrenching moments begin. It took the nurse three separate pokes to put an IV in Elijah. He screamed each time they stuck him and at one point angrily told the nurse to "Get it out!"

I felt terrible and wanted to cry, but didn’t' want to upset him anymore than he already was. The kid was terrified. I was ready to tell the nurses that they had to find another way if this third needle stick did not in fact 'stick', but luckily they got it. I had had enough let alone Elijah.

He rested a bit more until they took us to the CT-Scan area. He was a bit scared at first of the big 'donut' they were going to put him in, but the Doc assured him it was not going to hurt. He seemed to calm down. I could not stay in the room while they ran the xray machine due to baby girl Samantha but the doc said he did great.

We went back to our room to wait for the results, which luckily came back negative. Elijah finally fell asleep. At one point his breathing was very labored and I alerted the nurse who checked his oxygen levels, which were normal. He was having to work harder to breath.

The doc ordered a shot of steroids to reduce the swelling and prescribed antibiotics if it was bacterial. We don't know for certain WHAT he has other than that the swelling is due to his body fighting off some kind of infection.

We got home at 3AM tired and ready for sleep. Elijah gladly went to sleep waking just once crying from discomfort but quickly went back to sleep.

Elijah and I slept in until 9:30. He seems much better. Daddy and Gabriel have gone to get Elijah's medicine and birthday cake.

We are going ahead with Elijah's 4th birthday party today. He seems well enough to celebrate.

We are so grateful that he is okay and that his party was not ruined by his almost having to stay at the hospital.

If you get a chance, give Elijah a call to tell him how brave he is.

CHECK IN LATER FOR THE BIRTHDAY BLOG!

UPS Special Delivery!

2007-10-17T16:19:00.000-07:00

Today was like any other day. It was pleasantly warm, the kids were running wild and my head was spinning. Don't worry, my head was not spinning like Linda Blairs in the Exorcist.

Just before noon there came a knock upon the door. Okay, the doorbell rang. It sounded better saying 'there came a knock upon the door', more Halloween like. I open the door to find a small cardboard box on the doorstep and the brown UPS truck pulling away. I wave to UPS guy.

I bring the package into the house and per the instructions I open it and place the item inside of the refrigerator.

Are you curious as to what the package was?

Now, Meghan and Liz if you are reading this, Michael has two words for you.............

Well do ya?

It's a Bugs Life and Mortimer Must Die

2007-10-17T11:26:00.000-07:00

Ahhh. Naptime has arrived. It's that special, quiet time of the day when I can relax and kick up my feet.

Some of you might be aware that we have had a few uninvited guests visit our home. Don’t worry. It's not anything really scary like cockroaches. Knock on wood.

It's a running joke around here about whose coming for dinner next.

First it was the huge spider living outside the back door, then the slug I stepped on INSIDE the house one night. I was barefoot. I know. Ewww! Who the hell has slugs in their house!

Charlotte, the spider has since moved on, leaving behind three large egg sacs. At one point she blocked entrance to the back door by hanging one of her egg sacs right on the door frame. Michael knocked that one down, but the others remain. I wonder when those babies are to arrive. I really should get rid of them.

Our (hopefully) final uninvited guest arrived last week. Mortimer, the mouse was running wild in the kitchen. Yeah. We have it all. Mortimer is gaining in audacity; he ran right by Michael's feet!

At first I thought maybe I had imagined Mortimer as he didn't rear his ugly head again for a few days. No such luck and obviously my imagination isn't going to rid us of our little friend so off to the store for traps before Mortimer who may not be a Mortimer but rather a Marcy starts reproducing or before he finds my stash of chocolate. Either way Mortimer must go.

Let's just say that this is a warning to those of you planning to visit. Be aware you may come into contact with our little animal kingdom. It's okay. Just pretend like you are camping, I do. Oh and make sure to bring hard soled slippers in case you step on a slug. It's a nasty thing to step on barefoot.

I am happy to say that the weather is slowly but surely becoming more like fall. September in Virginia was unbearably hot, but now the mornings are cool and dewy while the afternoon is pleasantly warm. Fallen leaves are everywhere. It is nice to once again crunch leaves underfoot.

After dropping Spencer at the bus stop Elijah, Gabriel and I usually venture outside for a walk through the neighborhood. We count the display of pumpkins along the way. Down the street the Army center is constructing a new building. The boys like watching the diggers rip out trees and flatten dirt. I just enjoy getting out of the house.

Michael will be leaving for the sea within a few weeks. The days seem to be creeping by too fast. Beside email, I will be using this website to keep in contact with him. I will post pics of the boys and update him on all the happenings around here. If anyone wants to comment please sign up and do so. He would probably like that.

Until next time….I am off to lay on the couch and do what all SAHMs (stay-at-home-moms) do; eat bon bons!

Caution: Motherhood can be hazardous to your health

2007-10-16T05:48:00.000-07:00

Motherhood is definitely not for the weak. Neither is fatherhood for that matter, but this is my perspective. I am a mother.

Weak you say? Yes.

A mother must not be weak of heart, stomach, patience or other gross-outs like being able to deal with poop, boogers and sippy cups found behind the couch months after the contents expiration date. Can we say chunky monkey stinky milk? Gross!

It begins, I suppose once the sperm and egg have their big meet and greet party. Being pregnant is a preparation of sorts, to toughen up those weaker traits in a woman; bodily fluids, ugly veins, not to mention the Niagara Falls at every moment. Not that peeing constantly is gross, it's more like an endurance test.

The problem: Even after 3 children I am guilty of all of the weaknesses. The preparation training has not been affective. The statement regarding motherhood not being for the weak? It does not pertain to me. Nope! I still cringe when dealing with any of the above listed gross-outs.

Last night two o'clock in the morning I hear someone in the boys' bathroom. I can see the light on under the door. I wait. Give it a few minutes. After a few minutes I cannot wait any longer and venture down the hall for a look-see.

The moment I open the bathroom door I see the problem. One of the boys has had an accident and not the kind that leaves yellow stains around the toilets. No this one is more like finger paint on the floor. Yuck!

For a split second I wonder to God why He didn't equip children with good self-cleaning skills. Oh. That's right. He did. That's what I am for. I scream inside my head: "But I didn't pass the prep test! I am not ready yet!"

It's two o'clock in the morning.

I get the boy into the shower as the 'finger paint' has spread to his foot, hand and leg. I thank God for Clorox disinfectant wipes. I want to kiss the feet of the people over at Clorox. I am not about to retrieve the bucket and Pinesol. It's two o'clock in the morning. I am half awake.

I succeed in cleaning up the mess without puking, get the boy in clean pjs and back to bed, for both of us.

Okay so back to sleep right?

Wrong. Now I cannot sleep. Dum-dee-dum-dee-dooo-dooo. My mind won't shut off and now I am forced to think of all the wonders of the world. Maybe if I think long enough I will come up with a handy invention which will make us rich. Then I can hire someone to clean the 'finger paint' messes.

3:00 A.M. Yep! Still awake and still tossing and turning.

3:45 A.M. Almost asleep, but no! I open my eyes and my other son is standing before me. Wholly Shit! Scared me half out of my wits, which are pretty much worn thin at this point anyway.

"Mommy my bed is scaring me"

"Okay. Let's go see" and to the boys' bedroom we go. I put that boy back to bed and of course just like his father he is soon fast asleep. He even snores like daddy.

And still, I am awake.

It does end. I eventually fall asleep.

Today will be interesting. I have a meeting at ten o'clock. I may fall asleep there. How many cups of coffee can a pregnant woman safely drink in one morning? I don't know, but one cup better do it! My eyes are going to pop out!

Patience is a virtue

2007-10-14T11:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was uneventful. Oh wait. Did I say uneventful? That was a lie.

I did get my haircut and I don't really like it. That's okay. I am picky that way. It will grow on me. I hope. There is always Goodie products to carry it away. Away up in a pony tail! The bangs keep hanging in my eyes. *sigh*

Kids. They bring you joy. They also bring their parents grief. The joy does out weigh the grief. At least I hope it does.

Yesterday as I went up into the bedroom to retrieve a bobby pin to keep the annoying bangs out of my eyes, I came upon a disasterous scene.

Let me digress for a moment.

The movers damaged husbands dresser. His bottom drawer wouldn't close all the way. We left it that way until we could get a replacement, one that would go with the set, which wasn't going to be easy because our bedroom set is old, a hand me down from the parents.

Now of course leaving the bottom drawer open just a bit was not a problem for us. It was not aesthetically pleasing, but no one was going to see the unpleasantness except my family.

The lesson for today is: Don't leave bottom drawers open for little ones to stand in. It's a safety hazard and it will make a mess and break your dresser. No one was hurt. Not by the dresser or angry parents.

And husband was pissed. I laughed. Ran to get the camera. Wrong. Husband was not too happy about my amusement to the situation.

I received 'the look' and a comment: "You would not be laughing if it was your dresser". That is a correct assessment. I would also not be laughing.

Dear husband fixed the dresser. The bottom drawer even closes now. I guess it was a good thing. We moved the bedroom furniture around and it looks better. Things worked out.

We tried to sell our washer and dryer during the big neighborhood garage sale, but no one seemed to need a used washer and dryer. :(

I ventured out to some of my neighbors sales and did find a few girlie things and one lady gave me her phone number regarding a Pappa Primo high chair. She said it was worth way more than she was asking. I said I would think about it. She could be lying.

Today Michael is on duty so it's just me and the boys. We had pancakes with candy corn faces. According to the three Commandos it was 'the best pancakes ever mommy! '

Maybe they will remember that next time they consider destroying another piece of property.