Don't Look at Me in That Tone of Voice!

Why I Do Not Bank at Bank of America

2012-02-03T11:43:00.000-05:00

I am not a Bank of America customer. Earlier this year we cashed some old savings bonds at one of their banks and I don't recall receiving a 1099 for our taxes so I had to call the branch to ask for guidance. They gave me the 800 number to call. My phone now says "29:13"...and counting.

So to benefit anyone else whom may find themselves on the crooked-neck side of the "hold" button, I decided to do a public service and compile a list.

Things to do While on Hold With Bank of America (...or Anyone Else)

File your nails. Actually-go ahead and give yourself a full-blown manicure...you'll have time.
Sort through your junk mail. Stand back. Admire your work.
Pay bills
Write thank you notes that you've been meaning to get to, but never seem to find the time
Clean the bathroom. This is especially nice if you have boys...or just one very shy, extremely modest boy whom freaks out if his sister opens the door on him while he's peeing. Cause then he will panic, causing the stream of urine to shoot all over the wall, into the garbage can, and flood the floor surrounding the toilet.
Write a blog post

If you feel you have been productive enough and your house has been straightened up, or if you simply have a life outside of waiting for Bank of America to answer your damn call, then I have the secret to getting a REAL, LIVE person to answer! Just send $10 to the address below and I will share this secret with you!

Just kidding-I will divulge for free. The only way to ever speak to a person and be taken off hold is to yell loudly at your children. Don't fret-if it doesn't work immediately, just get more loud and sprinkle a profanity in there somewhere. A service representative really WILL be with you if you follow my directions. And then when they finally pick up you will not only look like a maniac, but also like a dementia patient because you've been on hold so freakin long you forgot what you were calling about in the first place.

Good luck and happy holding!

(...43:17...)

Say "Cheese"!

2012-01-27T10:08:00.000-05:00

Why does my friend text me asking for a photo of my kids at the exact moment they are literally covered in peanut butter and marker? God is mocking me for not caring enough to ensure my children do not draw on themselves or eat peanut butter out of the jar with their bare hands. Yes, it is one of those days. And then people want me to send pictures. So I'm scrounging through my old photos trying to come up with a decent group shot to send and...nothing. Not ONE single picture of all of the kids looking clean, put together, happy. Either someone is about to fight, is dirty, or eyes are shut.

I glanced at the walls trying to find a family portrait. None. None since our third was born. I am currently looking up the portrait studios' phone number to book an appointment.

One picture of dirty, colorful kids coming right up...

Oh, Baby!

2012-01-19T16:27:00.000-05:00

Since I have pretty much neglected my newest belly buddy I have decided to dedicate a few posts to baby...

Here I am, in the third trimester. The holiday season is such a busy time that I told myself I would get my affairs in order "after Christmas". Unfortunately it is now "after Christmas" and I am running low on time. As in I have two months...60 days...8 weeks...YIKES.

I have yet to order my birth supplies (a homebirth requires ordering things such as lancets, umbilical ties, gloves, etc), nor have I dusted off the tiny baby clothes. Also on my to-do list: organize photos, transfer videos from the handicam to DVDs, some MAJOR nesting cleaning, and plan a birthday party for my (current) youngest.

Yes, I have done this before. I know the sentiments of mothers everywhere that the cleaning can wait. Blah, blah, blah. I need this stuff done. I don't want to wait another two years to have time to do it because meanwhile there will be more and more piling up. I'd really love to have a fresh start, and then in two years have just a fraction of the to-do list. See?

Yep, these posts are mostly for me. Getting my thoughts out and "on paper" so to speak will help me get crap done. One of my biggest obstacles is that even though my kiddos hit the hay by 7:30 every night, I am too tired to be productive. I literally just want to sit around, eat some bad food, watch some equally bad TV, and go to sleep myself. If I could just muster up the energy after they go to bed to accomplish something on my list I'd be okay...but NOOOO. So starting tonight I think I will dedicate an hour to baby preparations each night. No, really...I will!

Back to the original statement: I have not properly blogged about this baby! Partly because I am too busy with the rest of my life, and partly because time just ticks by unrelentingly. But I am finally ready to let new baby take over my life. First of all I am thrilled to finally get my homebirth I've always wanted. With my first two I loved my midwives (CNMs) so much that I was willing to birth at the hospital in order to have them with me. Then with my third I decided even though I thoroughly loved the midwives, it was time to have a homebirth. It didn't work out due to insurance issues-ridiculous they can FORCE you to have a birth THEY decide on-and my son was born at the hospital. I was bound and determined, even if it meant selling one of the other kids (just kidding), to have it MY way this time. No hassle of packing a bag (I always had trouble with that part somehow), no worries about childcare, no loud nurses hootin and hollering all night long. Just the peace of being in my own home with my family, being able to cuddle in my own bed, and shower without begging permission. Ahh, bliss.

I'm currently at that stage where nature tries to prepare you for the sleep deprivation that comes after the baby is born. Stupid nature must have not gotten the memo that I have been sleep-deprived for 6 years I don't need her interference. First comes the moment of pure happiness when the children go to sleep and I get to raid the kitchen for all my hidden goodies. The desire to do this is so strong there is no way I could fight it. None. After my treats and couch-potato combo the heartburn creeps up. I know it's coming before I even start snacking, but it doesn't stop me. No worries, however, because I have Tums stashed all over the house (and in the car). The real show is while I'm warming the couch watching true crime shows...which is really an unhealthy habit considering the raging hormones. I learned long ago, with my second pregnancy, that putting bowls of cereal, ice cream, or plates of cake on my belly as if it were a tray is a BAD idea. How did I learn? I was innocently eating a bowl of Lucky Charms and my daughter suddenly pushed the bowl off of my tummy and onto the floor. And me. And the couch. So I don't sit food on my bump anymore, but I do put the remote or my phone there, and every night the show in my belly is better than whatever show on TV I'm watching. It starts with the baby kicking the items off. I poke him (or her!), he pokes back. I "pet" my belly, he gets excited and squirms around. You'd think after an hour or more the wee one would be tuckered out. Nope, not MY kids.

Another one of my favorite things is letting the other kids "play" with their sibling-it really creates a bond before baby arrives. The boys will lay their heads on my belly and when they get kicked they throw themselves to the floor and say, "Whoa!" like they have actually been karate kicked to the ground. Makes me laugh every time. And my only girl, my eldest, insists that we call the baby "Baby Sarah". It doesn't matter that there is a good chance we're going to have a boy-it's Baby Sarah or nothing! On the other end of the spectrum I literally had a 20 minute discussion with my middle son about why Jack Sparrow is not a practical name for a baby. It ended with him pretty angry and shooting my ugly looks. This is new territory for me since when I had my last the other two were only 4 and 2. They didn't have opinions about names, gender, or anything else. They just knew another baby was coming, but in an abstract kind of way.

There. Now I feel much less guilty about not showering attention on the bump. Prepare to be bombarded with baby blog posts! ;)

See, Kids? The "baby" Doesn't Get EVERYTHING!

2012-01-04T06:45:00.000-05:00

I was really busy putting away Christmas decorations and cleaning so I asked the kids to find something to do. The two older kids went and got their baby albums...and Luke asked, "Where's mine?" Oops.

Should I tell him that my firstborn has a scrapbook from 0-6 months, another from 6-12 months, one from 1-2 years, and then albums on top of those? Should I point out that my second child does not have any scrapbook at all, yet has photos from his first two years neatly organized into albums? And then explain that I was shorthanded (literally...I needed an extra hand!), and too tired to process photos of him, my third? I did TAKE the photos...I have a dozen memory cards somewhere in this house. I also had a million from his first few months on my phone, which was stolen (I blogged about it) before I transferred them. I have not printed a single picture of this child. Ever. He will be three in April and he doesn't have a picture of himself...unless you count the Christmas card photos...

Nah, I didn't tell him all those thoughts that flashed through my mind in less than 3 seconds. Instead I handed him an album of Patrick's and passed it off as his. He believed me and said, "Aww, that's me", and I have to admit I felt really bad. I'll get to his pictures soon...REALLY, I will!

THAT'S Why You're Supposed to Call First...

2011-12-31T20:36:00.000-05:00

Why do people ALWAYS show up when it is the very least convenient?

It never fails:
The children are playing peacefully with their educational, environmentally friendly toys. Their hair freshly washed and combed, teeth sparkly-white, clothes wrinkle-free and clean. The house is immaculate, smells nice, and a pie is in the oven. WHY can't people unexpectedly drop by to witness this? (Okay, yes-the answer is admittedly because "this" has never actually happened, but there are times that the kids are not fighting and we all look presentable at least.)

No, no. People want to show up when we look positively homeless. Case in point:
Yesterday I was sitting in the carport happily neglecting my housework and watching the kids play. I was wearing the worst of the worst, last-resort-laundry-day clothes, my hair had not yet seen a brush...and I looked the BEST out of all of us. The youngest was your typical RV park poster child, complete with snotty nose and chocolate-smeared face. He was in head-to-toe cammo, and his "shirt" was actually pajamas. The middle child was in shorts on a chilly day, and nothing else. My daughter did her own hair hours before, and had played hard since, making it look like I stuck her head in an electric mixer. She was sitting on her bike, fruitlessly pedaling and not going anywhere since the chain was dangling pitifully and obviously broken.
I did not have time to rush everyone inside, turn out the lights, and pretend we weren't available when the lady whom lives down the street slowed her car down to a pace that only meant one thing: she was stopping at our house. Let me explain that this isn't our cute, friendly old-lady neighbor from right next door. This is a woman we rarely talk to, and has earned herself a spot on my list of Top 5 Gossip Mongers I've Ever Known. The way I was positioned she could not see me and I couldn't see her. My truck was blocking me since I was sitting in a chair in front of it. Before I saw her I heard, "Where are your shoes?" and "Where is your momma...you're running around outside alone?"
During our "small talk" I had to repeatedly ask child #2 to stop swinging an extension cord around like a lasso. And child #3 was pushing a stroller around (and by "pushing" I mean ramming it into the wall at top speed repeatedly), which wouldn't have been a big deal except that it is very loud, and when pushed inside a carport the sound is echoed. It was basically a white trash three-ring circus.

To make matters worse, I couldn't get out of my chair to either distract the kids or for us to walk away from the commotion because I had my legs pulled up to cover my big belly buddy. We have managed to keep the pregnancy from most of our neighbors (only the cute little old ladies next door and across the street are in on our secret). So I looked like a fabulous mom with my out of control, misbehaving, unkempt kids while I jut sat there stupidly.

Gotta love people you barely know dropping by unexpectedly. :)
...It's ALMOST as bad as the Mormon boys knocking on your door while you're having a dance party with little kids in the living room and as you shamelessly do The Sprinkler they are staring dead at you through the window. And you only notice them as they walk away shaking their heads in a "that poor, lost soul" kind of way. Seriously-women whom have small children should be exempt from unannounced visitors!

Okay, I do feel better now.

Bad Day...Disney Style

2011-12-16T21:00:00.001-05:00

We went to Disney since daddy got two days off in a row. Our friends were going to be there the second day so we all hung out together, and I even decided to stay an extra day and catch a ride home with them. I thought the munchkins would sleep in a bit after staying up past their bedtime and running around the Magic Kingdom all day, but alas they sprang out of bed at 5:45.

We filled our bellies with "free continental breakfast", and left for the parks. The air inside Disney gates is different; it gifts one with the ability to see through a child's eyes and it's called The Happiest Place on Earth for a reason. Unless, of course, you are ME. Then you can expect a day slightly less magical...

We met up with our buddies at Hollywood Studios and stopped for lunch at the Commissary. Something went wrong in the kitchen so while our friends got their food, poor Rick was stuck waiting amongst a growing mob to get our meals. During the time he was waiting the rest of us were sitting at the table chatting. There was a family of two girls, a mom, and dad sitting to my right and out of the corner of my eye I noticed the mom looking at me (a feeling I am all too familiar with), and I turned towards her just in time to hear her say "...he squirted it on me...". And then I noticed she was covered in mayo. Literally from head to foot. It was on her clothes, up and down her back, and on her legs. Luke was returning her stare and was holding an empty condiment packet. My jaw dropped as I slowly put the pieces together, and I started apologizing. Luke was just sitting there nonchalantly without a clue what the fuss was over. He had some on his shirt, but nothing compared to his poor victim. He was playing with a packet of mayonnaise, and obviously he bent it at such an angle that it burst open and shot across the aisle onto the mom. I couldn't bring myself to tell her that it was all over the back of her head in her hair. After a minute or two she pointed out that it was even in the plant on the other side of their table. We all laughed about that. No wonder Americans are overweight; how much mayonnaise does one packet contain!?

After lunch we decided to see the Indiana Jones stunt show and immediately afterwards I asked Luke if he needed to go potty, to which he answered very convincingly "NO". The other kids went to go on a ride, and my kids stayed with me. The adults were talking when I heard Sarah screeching, "MOM!!!! MOM!!!! LOOK!!!!!!! OH NO, MOM!!!". She was pointing at Luke, who had the "oh no" look on his face, and a puddle forming at his feet. No one would have noticed if Sarah hadn't so kindly informed the surrounding area with her screaming and pointing. So in front of all the people around us, who were staring, I moved the stroller into a position to hide him somewhat and stripped off his wet clothes to change him into his spare outfit I always bring, but never have to use. After wiping him, changing his clothes, and putting his wet clothes into a bag, I started weighing my options. His shoes were completely soaked, dripping wet. I could either leave the park, buy shoes, and come back (by the time I did that I may as well stay at the hotel since it was getting dark already), or I could let him be that kid who runs barefoot in Disney (no), or I could spend my life's savings on shoes at a store on property (sigh, my only real option). Off we went in search of shoes...which happens to be surprisingly hard in December in Disney. Many castmembers informed us that after Summer, when the flip-flops run out of stock they are not replenished. Yay.

We finally found one store with some shoes left. As I was gaping in helpless horror at the price tags, Luke helped himself to our Coke and promptly dropped it. Coke splashed everywhere and I tried to cover the huge lake of sticky Coke with the stroller (to avoid causing someone injury) while I ran in search of paper towels. The young woman behind one of the counters got a roll of paper towels and a trash can and came over to clean up the mess. I was on the ground helping her, explaining that this was my last trip to Disney World after having passes since my middle child was 2, and I was having a hard time dealing with it. ...And that this was not the way I wanted to end my visits. Then I pointed out my barefoot, mayo-squirting, Coke-drenched child and told her we were there searching for shoes, but that they were $35, and I couldn't bring myself to spend that amount on shoes, even if they were really cute Mickey Mouse shoes. Then Luke grabbed a $20 pair of flip-flops and ripped the tag off right in front of her and I just looked at her with pathetic "I'm sorry" eyes. She said to hold on a minute, which I did because I felt downright defeated, and I was right in the middle of asking God if He was ruining my last Disney days on purpose to help me not miss it, when she reappeared and handed us the flip-flops with no charge. I was able to see the Osborne Lights once more because of the awesomeness of the Disney family.

Lots of other little things went wrong (my relentless, excruciating back pain, boys' bloody knees, rain...), but I will look back on those days with fondness and a smile. Because there's no such thing as a bad day at Disney!

Yo-Ho-Yo-Ho, A Pirate's Life For Me

2011-11-05T21:49:00.000-04:00

I know by my stat counter that someone, somewhere is reading my blog. You would never guess it by the lack of comments (ahem), but the numbers don't lie so I have decided to write a post detailing the planning of my son's birthday party for any momma out there who may need some inspiration for their lil buccaneers. I relied heavily on the internet for help along the way and I wanted to pass it on. :) My hat is off to the women from the past who had to, you know, read books and talk to others for ideas. This post is for all the novice party planners like myself:

*Patrick's 5th birthday party!*

I gave myself weeks for planning, yet I still didn't manage to finish everything I wanted to do (little final details like black streamers in the doorways and a few miscellaneous signs, etc). A problem I encountered was...STUFF! So much stuff to look at, buy, or make. I recommend creating a plan and then sticking to it! Buy your supplies and then try very hard to not add items. I kept adding to my supplies which added to my work. So a lot of the preparations waited till the last minute due to my ordering things right up until the last minute. Clearly the food had to be put off till Saturday and Sunday to prepare (the party was on a Sunday afternoon). Looking back, I really wish I had set aside time every night to go through the loot little by little because I ended up sorting through it all Sunday morning and it was stressful/took away some of the fun trying to cook and get the tables set up, PLUS do the loot bags. That was something I will do differently in the future. My thinking was that if I started earlier it would have gotten disorganized and I would have confused myself, not to mention I had new arrivals of loot daily. It was overwhelming so I dealt with it by not doing it until it had to be done. However I should have cleared out extra space somewhere safe and done it much sooner. Oops!

Tip #1: Allow no less than 3 weeks to plan your party. Get the most accurate as possible head count before putting the finer details together to save money/time.

As true Disney (and particularly Pirates of the Caribbean) lovers, the theme of the party had been decided years ago. Patrick has been a huge fan of the franchise ever

since his first encounter with Captain Jack Sparrow at WDW when he was not quite 3 years old. Every time we made a trip to Disney he requested to visit Jack, and it seemed like he was always singled out by the Captain. This prompted us to let him watch the movie, and it has been a serious preoccupation for him to this day. True love. Since I think throwing parties for toddlers is stupid (sorry, but it is) this was Patrick's first party and I wanted to make it something he'd remember. Mission: Accomplished.

I checked out a party store in the big town nearest to us. I found a lot of props, decorations, and treasure that I really wanted for our party, but the price tags caused a moment of hesititaion. Thankfully, Rick agreed to come with me so I ~~begged~~ asked in a normal tone for him to please take the children far away from me so I could think

straight for a few minutes. I love my smart phone and the ability to save enormous amounts of money with a few simple taps on my device. Within ten minutes I purchased probably half of my party supplies-no, no, not from the store I was standing in. From my phone, with my beloved eBay app.

TIP #2: Do NOT buy ANY supplies without checking sites like eBay and Amazon to compare prices beforehand.

After picking up the things I did want from the store we left, just under $100 poorer, and enthusiastic to create a true birthday party experience, not just custom plates and cake-which is what I'd always considered an acceptable birthday celebration.

Invitations:

After being properly motivated, the first order of business is the invitations. It goes without saying-the fewer guests you have the more STUFF you can buy. I'm a big believer in inviting a whole family, including all siblings. (I have never understood the concept of only inviting one child in a family-the poor siblings whom feel left out, and the poor mommy whom more than likely has to LEAVE her child so the excluded children aren't around...I don't get it!?) You have to decide-better and more STUFF, or better and more guests. We only sent out four invitations, which represented 15 children, plus their parents. My family brought the grand total to 18 kids and 7 adults. I used pirate font and wording of course. Then they were stained, oven-dried, and burned around the edges to look authentic, then rolled into scrolls, tied with string, and mailed. I was actually going to mail them in bottles filled with sand and shells, but I knew the kids receiving them would wind up fighting over it so for the sake of peace I opted to mail them the boring way-in an envelope.

After getting an exact headcount (with a party this size exactness matters) I got to work finding treasure and loot. I had quite a pile building up in a corner, and more kept arriving almost daily from my eBay purchases. I thought I was going to have a much harder time keeping the kids out of the loot, but really it wasn't that bad. I had many lists going: food, props, decorations, games, and treasure. Lists were the only way I could keep everything straight.

Invitations...check! Moving on to.........

Decorations:

I had no trouble finding decorations; between online deals and going to the dollar and thrift stores I found plenty of loot. I found a huge Jolly Roger flag online for $3. I checked out the dollar stores and found a few things like chocolate gold coins and skeletons. I bought a few items from Wal-Mart such as candy, black plates and cups to have as extra in case the special POTC supplies ran out, and another skeleton. The thrift stores provided a treasure chest. Since my son's birthday is two weeks before Halloween I had no trouble finding pirate-y things for our party. I simply dressed the skeletons as pirates using hats and eye patches we already had. I also used Halloween decorations that we already owned and made them fit the pirate theme. I saw some cute plastic signs at the party store, but I chose to make my own to save money, plus I really thought it looked more authentic to do it my way. I used the same stain, dry, burn technique that I used for the invitations and made many signs: "Galley" which hung in the kitchen, "head" which adorned the bathroom door, "Property protected by pirates" for the entrance, "Captain's Quarters" for above Patrick's door, and of course-the ever popular "Dead Men Tell No Tales". I also made a "Code of Conduct" for the outside, which were rules for the pirates' behavior (included "no whining" and "no hitting"). I used the Pieces of Eight font for nearly everything, which is a free download, and it is the closest to the actual POTC font that you can find.

Tip #3: Use anything you can as a decoration. Borrowing toys from your kids' rooms that fit your theme and using them for the party doesn't cost a thing, but adds a lot.

Props/Decorations Con't:

My hubby works retail so I put him in charge of cardboard. Yes, cardboard duty. He brought home any large boxes or sheets of cardboard and started a pile in our carport for me to work with. I wasn't sure exactly what I was going to do with it, but I knew I would come up with something. ;)

One piece he salvaged was the backdrop for a cookie display and looked like a wooden fence. I thought it would be perfect for this:

BEFORE: AFTER:

(The finished prop looked exactly like this,

except the empty noose was behind the sign and a clue was taped to the back of the sign. The paper in the background on the left is the "Pirata Codex".) And yes, those are actual hangman's nooses-I found a cool knot-tying website with videos and now I am a professional noose-tier. Not sure what I'm to do with this talent?

I had another piece that was divided into three sections-perfect for a stockade. We nailed the finished prop to fence posts outside:

I had several small boxes which I spray painted black. These were part of the decor as well as functional:

The tattoo parlor was all ready to go (except the water). This helped the party flow from one activity to the next without a lot of stopping, chaos, or too much work for me.

I had another box for accessories in case anyone showed up in need of pirate gear:

I came across a craft for a Halloween decoration from FamilyFun.com, and

then used the directions (see "Crafts" post for link) posted on a blog since it had illustrations.

Here's Mr. Bones:

Tip #4: Don't stress over how everything looks. Kids don't care about perfection; they care about awesomeness. If your Mr. Bones looks like recycling gone bad, who cares!

My biggest undertaking was the pirate ship. I used a dishwasher box, plus three miscellaneous sheets, and two rolls of duct tape and constructed a ship. I spray painted it black and brown. To be honest, I was worried my own little swashbucklers would mutiny and sink it before the party guests got to even see it, so I purposely waited to construct it until they were asleep on Saturday night. I stayed up until midnight, but it paid off because three weeks later it is still standing on our back porch and being played in. :)

Decorations and loot taken care of, now time for...:

Food:

Since our party started at 2 pm and had no ending time I wanted a meal, not just snacks. I made sure everything I served fit the theme, and to really drive the point home I printed out labels on white stickers and stuck them onto black construction paper for each food item (this also counts as a decoration):

drinks = "grog"

deviled eggs = "cackle fruit" (what real pirates referred to eggs as)

chips and dip = "bone chips and guts"

chili & rice = "salmagundi" (a pirate food made from a hodgepodge of ingredients)

spinach dip = "seaweed"

the ice cubes = "alligator blood"

the cake = "just cake"

cookies = really should be in the "decorations" category

Every party needs...

Games:

I wanted to use all of the props for the games to ensure that they were utilized.

Originally I was going to have three or four games and then do the pinata and head to the cake. But then I realized that a pirate party would not be right without a treasure hunt and there was just no way out of it. So I used the games as a way to give clues.

I had a black box for the games (which sat next to the other black box props until game time) so that when it came time to play them everything was organized. Each game was in a plastic bag and numbered, and included the corresponding clue, prizes, and any props needed so all I had to do was grab bag #1, #2, etc. With 18 kids I did not want to stop, think, get supplies, and so on.

Tip #5: Make sure your games are 100% ready to go and organized before the guests arrive. You don't want to be scrambling whilst you have a bunch of kids going nuts at your home.

Game #1 : Davy Jones' Locker

This is a take on Sharks and Minnows. The biggest kid volunteered to be Davy Jones and all the pirates ran from one side of the yard to the other when I yelled, "Abandon Ship!" Whomever was tagged by Davy Jones was "out" and received a dum-dum lollipop as a prize. The last pirate in the game was declared the winner and was rewarded a lollipop and the first clue which said, "It's a pirate's life for me. Look for a sign under a tree." The clue led them to the "Pirates Ye Be Warned" display and attached to the back of the sign was a piece of the map.

Game #2: Cannonball Stomp

I had the hardest time finding black balloons which I honestly did not anticipate since it was so close to Halloween. So I opted for dark green water grenades instead, which worked out since they really did look like grenades. Let me tell you it was extremely hard to blow those suckers up and get the treats inside. I originally planned on making 1/2 empty, 1/2 with a pirate coin, and one with the clue. But instead because it was so difficult to get the coins inside, I ended up with about 5 with coins, one with the clue, and the rest stayed empty. This game was hysterical-18 kids stomping balloons. It was over very quickly and a few of the kids got upset that they didn't get to stomp any balloons. For the record-there were 35 "cannonballs". The winning pirate whom stomped the balloon containing the clue read, "Beware! If yer enemies catch ye, you'll wind up THERE." This brought the pirates to the stockade, which they had to search. The piece of map was hidden between the cardboard and the wood.

Game #3: Gold Nugget Hunt

This was basically an Easter egg hunt with gold nuggets substituted for eggs. In the days prior to the party Luke helped me walk around and find rocks which we rinsed, laid in the sun to dry, and then spray painted gold. I had a section of my yard closed off during the party so the children wouldn't venture into it and discover the gold. I hid the nuggets the morning of the party (after the dew dried) so I wouldn't be frantically trying to hide them during the festivities. The losers got ring pops and the pirate with the most gold chunks won the clue which read, "They say milk does a body good. Look for a skeleton by some wood." This of course led them to the milk jug skeleton and the piece of map was hidden in one of the cavities of Mr. Bones.

Game #4: Pass the Parrot

This is Hot Potato using a parrot. (My beloved parrot from my childhood, but that is another blog post...) The same older child who was Davy Jones was the music controller. He paused a song from the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack randomly until the winner was declared. The non-winners received an eye patch, and the winner got the final clue which said, "This is a place where you jump. Search all around for a lump." The last piece of map was discretely taped to a railing of the trampoline. I of course had it planned out that the last piece to be found was the part that contained the exact location of the treasure. The map was drawn on a crumpled paper bag and ripped into four sections. On the final quarter it said, "To find your reward look under an orange gourd", and naturally an "X" marked the spot. It was pretty warm out and I tried to get the kids to take a drink break halfway through the games, but very cutely they all refused-they wanted to finish the treasure hunt! I had the treasure chest pinata hidden on our front porch under a Halloween pumpkin. (Another mommy placed it during game #3 since there was chocolate inside which would have melted.)

We hung up the pinata, and as the children lined up to take their turns swinging at it I handed out the loot bags so they had somewhere to put their pinata goodies. The bags were store bought POTC, but I personalized them by sticking printed labels on the back of each bag that said "Hands Off! This booty is the sole property of ....". Each child had a cool pirate name-for example we had Captain Patrick (birthday boy), Coldblood Max, and Longtooth Maggie. I put telescopes, chocolate coins, stickers, pencils, and bookmarks inside (all store bought). The kids finally busted it open, and all the loot disappeared so quickly. I had many beaded necklaces, some bracelets, LOTS and LOTS of candy, pirate rings, and gold coins and medallions inside the chest.

After the pinata excitement we headed inside for cake. I found many options for cakes online (ships, treasure chests, skulls, you name it), but I love Publix cake so we ordered ours. Had I chosen to make the cake I am not sure which I would have chosen; they were all really neat. I would have had to allow time for that, and I had too many other things to do....

I had one more surprise for the pirates: Alligator blood to prevent scurvy. I brought out two 2-liters of lemon-lime soda and everyone had their cups ready. Then I pulled a black bowl full of red ice cubes. But not just any ice: I found a silicone mold for skeleton head ice cubes in the Halloween section of Wal-Mart. I started on Saturday and had a system worked out very quickly-it took 2 1/2 hours for them to freeze so every 2 1/2 hours I popped the 15 heads into the bowl in the freezer and filled the tray again with Hawaiian Punch. Yes, even through the night. By party time I had the bowl filled.

I already owned the soundtracks to the POTC movies (parts 1 & 3) and I also own the special 40th Anniversary cd that Disney released in honor of the attraction. I burned a cd of just the music from that (excluding the talking and narration), and had all three soundtracks on loop for the duration of the party. Since there was so much music it never seemed repetitive (to me). Our backyard was so much fun transformed into pirate theme that it was painful to it back to normal again. In the photo you can see the stockade on the far right, the hanging pirates in the far center, and Mr. Bones was very far to the left (not pictured). The pinata was hidden in the front of the house, and busted open in the carport.

Tip #6: Hand over your camera to another parent and request photos of the birthday celebrant, decorations, activities, etc. I suggest taking photos of everything set up BEFORE guests arrive-you will not get a chance to afterwards! You want to remember how your hard work turned out. I will never forget to do this again; lesson learned the hard way!

I had a blast planning this party even though it was a lot of time and work. I am going to do another for my daughter next Summer. I think I will start the planning right after New Years.........

Crafts!

2011-10-24T07:09:00.012-04:00

'Tis the season for crafts! Lovely temperatures after months of not leaving the comfort of air-conditioning combined with the upcoming holidays make this my favorite time of year. The little cold snaps bring fresh energy and opening windows, preparing firewood, spending so much time outdoors all unite to push housework to the side, cut down on heavy school work, and take advantage of quality time with the rugrats. I wanted to share some really easy, fun ideas, and the best part is you already have everything you need-no inconvenient trips to buy fancy craft store products. Even if you're not a stay-at-home mom, or your kids go to school there's no excuse-if you can spare 15 minutes to play on the internet you can spare 15 minutes to make a craft! :)

***Halloween Countdown***

This is kind of late, but you can always save it in your Halloween/Fall arsenal for next year, or go ahead and do it now since it takes all of 10 minutes:

Disney Halloween Countdown

***Play Dough***

Okay, yes, it is safe to say most mommies know how to make play

dough, but just in case..here is my favorite recipe:

It lasts until you throw it out, never dries up.

Ingredients:
2 cups flour
2 cups warm water
1 cup salt
2 Tablespoons vegetable oil

1 Tablespoon cream of tartar (optional for improved elasticity)

Mix all ingredients in pot over med heat until it no longer sticks to sides. When it cools down, you can color it with food coloring and make lots of choices. If you don't have food coloring I have used a packet of Kool-Aid to color, but be warned: it has an odor (not bad, just...there). I store it at room temp in ziplock baggies and it keeps forever! I know some mommies keep theirs in the fridge, but I don't want to give up the space, plus it makes the dough hard. Seems unnecessary to me.

***Bubbles***

Bubbles are fun, too. And sure, you can get them on clearance for next to nothing at the dollar store since Summertime is over, but where is the fun in that!?

Mix 1/4 cup of dishwashing liquid with a quart of WARM water. I always add some oil to keep the bubbles from breaking (not much, just a tbsp or so). Give each child some "tools" like straws and old bubble wands and let them play. Make sure they are outside. ;)

***Fall Leaves***

Need decorations for Autumn? Take your kids on a "hike" (a walk around your yard or neighborhood) and find colorful leaves. Sounds easy, but in Florida this is actually quite the task. All we have is brown or green. Finding yellow and red was really a task-it took two days of searching, and another added two days of searching because we didn't finish the craft right away and the leaves got too crunchy. Oops! After looking far and wide we finally scrounged up some red and yellow leaves. I imagine this craft would offer much more gratification if we had access to big,

colorful maple leaves or something comparable.

Ours were pretty pitiful, but despite our abundance of evergreens I still love Florida:

***Milk Jug Skeleton***

I was browsing the internet for ideas for Patrick's birthday party a few weeks ago and came across instructions for a skeleton made of milk jugs. It was a neat project that I would definitely do again. The biggest challenge was not what I thought it was going to be (cutting the small areas from contoured plastic). The hardest part was getting the stinking labels off. I soaked them in hot water, and managed to destroy two of the jugs right off the bat due to the water being a little too hot. I used soap and a knife. Nothing seemed to get the glue off; the labels yes, the glue no. I used my nails to scratch away at it, and after one whole jug I gave up. Who needs perfection!? I spread out all of my supplies on my back patio and let the kids play with the pieces while I worked. It took over an hour because there is a lot of cutting involved. The plastic can be pretty sharp so this was a craft that is better left to older kids, or for mommy to complete while younger kids do something nearby. I gave my kids the job of trash pick up and hot tubbing next to me.

The original idea came form FamilyFun.com, but I found these instructions, which I liked a lot better because they included illustrations. I didn't take the time to ask her permission to re-post, but I linked directly so I'm sure she won't mind. ;)

I ended up using the finished skeleton as a prop for the birthday party and he is currently on display for Halloween.

The Times, They Are A'Changin...

2011-10-24T05:52:00.002-04:00

I remember when I was younger being outside playing for hours and hours. Literally not stopping for anything, even drinking from the hose and eating whatever my mom left on the porch if she decided it was time for us to eat. There were a few kids who lived somewhat near to us (my town had a population of 100 to give you an idea), and we would use our bicycles to make the journey to join forces and create enough bodies to form teams for various games.

If there happened to be an emergency-say we were terrified from running through the graveyard at dusk and needed to catch our breath-we would shout, "TIME OUT!", or "TIME!", or some variation, including making a "T" with our hands.

I remember when video games came out and to be honest, I didn't really understand Atari. It was lame. We handed it back to mom, the dust barely disturbed, and let it go back to where ever it came from. Then came Nintendo. Everyone got one for Christmas. Well, everyone except us. One of the following Christmases we were actually gifted with a beloved Nintendo Entertainment System (NES). We were finally movin on up. Nevermind that there were already newer, better game systems. It didn't matter to us. My brother and I traded our hours outside for hours in front of the TV. Somehow we didn't wind up with tendonitis from holding the controllers so furiously for so long (God bless youth). None of our friends came searching for us-they were just as brainwashed by their video games. Our parents didn't seem to care, after all we were quiet and out from underfoot, right?

Eventually the novelty wore off, puberty set in (which freed me from the gaming addiction while at the same time sadly trapping my brother for life), and I became too busy with real life, homework, and teenage melodrama to care about Nintendo.

Flash forward 15 years and I am all grown up with kids of my own. My son plays an online game. He is 5, doesn't read, and has no attention span. It never really crossed my mind that he would get addicted, but I see it now. I have had to set limits ("in 30 minutes you have to turn it off and come eat"), use bribery ("if you want to play later, you'd better pick up your clothes"), and threaten ("unless I see PERFECT behavior at the store..."). Very recently I have hidden the laptop cord and left the house in favor of the playground because once he knows the game is not an option he doesn't care about playing it. I need to remind him there is a beautiful world that God gave us to enjoy and the weather is too nice to be cooped up inside. The limitations have become more strict, and I will delete his character if it becomes a real problem. Now why didn't MY mom think of that!?

Yesterday we were at the playground and I was sitting there counting my blessings (okay, really I was totally beat from pushing three heavy kids on swings simultaneously), and the kids were running around chasing each other up and over, under and through all the equipment...they were completely breathless and red-cheeked and happy. Sarah stopped in her tracks, spun around, looked at her younger brothers, and yelled "PRESS PAUSE!".

Just Another Ordinary Day

2011-10-10T19:57:00.002-04:00

This morning we were all woken up to the sound of thunder and lightning overhead. It sounded like it was trying to get inside. Just a few minutes before 6 am the house became an eerie quiet and black dark as the power lines couldn't take anymore abuse.

Many candles and tears later we decided that alternating locations to watch the rain fall wasn't cutting it (how did they do it "back then"!?) so we went for a drive around the neighborhood to see where the power outage was coming from. We were so happy to see wonderful cable guys out there in the still pouring rain working hard to restore our electricity.

Later in the morning I remembered Luke had an appointment with the pediatrician. Since Rick didn't have to work until the afternoon he stayed home with the older kids so I could have a peaceful trip with my youngest. (In Rick's words: this was my "alone time". THANKS.)

While I was signing Luke in he went into the little playhouse in the waiting room, and I turned around to go sit nearby. He had that look on his face-sure enough upon closer inspection I saw he peed his pants. As nonchalantely as I could, I took his hand and asked for paper towels (since the bathroom didn't have any-grrr), cleaned up the puddle, and wiped it with Germ-X from the handy container they so considerately place on the counter. After that was cleaned up it was time to clean up the child. By that time he was saying, "Cold!" and walking like Frankenstein so I was pretty sure my nonchalance wasn't fooling anyone. Oh...did I mention it was still down-pouring rain? Yeah.

Luke and I got completely drenched while we were at the car trying to change him into clean clothes. Clean clothes? Why, yes, I always have spare clothes in the car for such unfortunate circumstances. However, as I searched in the rain for said clothes I realized my super-duper helpful hubby cleaned out my car for me. I looked for anything, and to my relief there was one solitary diaper leftover from before underwear days. I "nonchalantly" strolled back into the office, soaking wet, hair matted, and half naked child. Luke actually seemed quite happy and relaxed sitting in a waiting room surrounded by people in nothing but a t-shirt and diaper.

When it was time for his shot, the nurse remarked, "See, you already have your pants off for me", and I responded, "Yes, I planned it that way".

After Rick left for work I got to work on some decorations for Patrick's upcoming birthday party. This is no easy task with three eager helpers whose definition of "help" is thoroughly destroy all of my hard work. I actually managed to finish one project so while I was cleaning up I decided to let the kids go outside (since they have been cooped up for days due to the rain). It was merely sprinkling at this point, and no lightning. Everything is okay, right? Wrong! They got the brilliant idea to add the water hose into the mix and came gut-wrenchingly close to ruining 3 1/2 hours of work on the party prop.

Fortunately for me it was late enough to corral them inside and feed, bathe, and ready them for their "camp out". They camp in the living room when Rick works at night and stay up late watching shows they normally don't get to watch. Finally-at 9 they are passed out...which is exactly what I am about to do! Tomorrow will be another day; better get rest! ;)

No Need For Post-Its Anymore!

2011-10-05T07:04:00.003-04:00

I've always had problems remembering things. Ever since I had multiple children it has gotten worse; if it hadn't been for those magnetized shopping list pads which stick to the refrigerator I would have missed countless appointments, made many more trips to the store for forgotten items, and flaked on important commitments.

I have finally figured out a way to remember! I want to share my discovery:

I ask my husband to call me and remind me of something. I may not remember the task, but I will darn sure remember that Rick didn't call me to remind me! See, all you have to do is figure out a way to blame your hubby. Ta-Da-instant ginseng!

I'm waiting on the photos for my next post-it is a tutorial on birthday party planning. Stay tuned! :)

2011-08-11T07:02:00.002-04:00

Whew, the months are really flying by. We have been thoroughly enjoying our Summer-plenty of time in the water, playdates, and fun mini-vacations. Maybe that is why it has taken me three days to write this post. If I try to sit down during the day the kids' built-in radar pick up and they all harass me mercilessly until I give up. By the time they are all asleep at night, I am too exhausted to do anything besides sit on the couch and mindlessly stare at the TV. The solution? Close the door to the playroom and promise them a treat if I get 15 uninterrupted minutes. The good news is I don't have to pay up. The bad news is it took three days to type a few paragraphs...

Patrick is going through a singing phase; it is so cute. He either sings songs he is familiar with or he will just bust out his own made-up tune whenever the mood strikes him. For example: the other day he had been asking me relentlessly "play with me!!", and I kept telling him, "I will, I will...in a few minutes...". After the hundredth exchange exactly like that, he stared singing "A B C D E F G, I WANT MOMMY TO PLAY WITH ME". How could I deny him after a serened like that?

On another afternoon, Rick took the youngest with him to run a few errands and left the other two home with me. We three were cleaning the boys' room (well okay, I was cleaning and they were playing with everything I put away) and I was hanging a new picture of a guardian angel looking over two little tykes crossing a dangerous bridge (I'm sure you've seen it). I used it as an opportunity to remind them of their own guardian angels and Sarah asked if she could talk to hers. I answered that of course she could anytime she thought to or felt like she had something to say. Her face lit up with understanding and awe. My son is much, much more interested and curious about God, Jesus' life, etc. so to have finally made a breakthrough with my little girl was a monumental occasion for me. Proud of my abilities to evangelize small children with my amazing story-telling technique, I sauntered out of the room with a satisfied smirk. Immediately I heard her whispering, "Please Guardian Angel, bring me candy."

Last week was insanely busy due to our church having VBS. The theme this year was hiking through the wilderness and learning about the seven Sacraments. I was the director of snacks for the program. (To find out why this year was especially difficult-keep reading...or look to the right!) The music was definitely my favorite part, however there is one song which begins: "I'm going on a wilderness adventure/ into the life of Christ..." No matter what, I kept singing, "...into the life of crime..." What kind of sick mind switches "crime" for "Christ"!? To make it worse, every time I did it and noticed I had messed it up AGAIN I would involuntarily giggle. Please, someone tell me I am not condemned for all eternity...?

I was showing Sarah a website with photos of a baby's development in utero (look right). While we were bonding and chatting, we were sharing a bowl of yummy chili from the crock pot. Yes, I am bragging-it was SO good. Right as I took a bite we came to a paragraph which had a cute illustration of a tiny baby with webbed fingers and toes and an over sized, adorable alien head. It's tiny spine was perfectly formed and there was a teensy heart. To compare the size of the developing baby there was another picture off to the side of the sweet little illustration. It was a kidney bean. Yes, kidney bean...as in a major ingredient of chili. As in I was eating a kidney bean that was supposed to represent the precious unborn baby. This is the twisted universe I live in.

July

2011-07-05T06:58:00.004-04:00

The past week the children and I have been taking turns laying around on the couch not feeling well. First up was Sarah, who had a ridiculously high fever for an entire day and night. She woke up around 6:30 am, jumped into the hot tub at 7 (I don't know...), and went back to the couch by 7:15. She dozed for a couple f hours and then went to her bedroom and slept for the rest of the day. This is blog-worthy because even in sickness my kids don't ever sleep like that.

I made sure she took small sips of Gatorade each time she awoke, gave hot-forehead kisses freely, and piled on the blankets since she was literally shivering in her sleep. I figured it was the beginning of the flu and soon the entire house would be infested and quarantined. It was a mere matter of time before all of us would be begging for death so I did the only rational thing I could think to do in the meantime with my precious few hours until onset and cleaned out the kitchen cabinets. Being down one kid really freed up a lot of my time and while the boys played with play-doh and ate popsicles I got to work.

I filled an entire garbage bag and added a dozen items to my shopping list. Among my finds:

many expired medicines (the winner: ibuprofen with an expiry of 1999. yikes. Runner-up: infant's Tylenol with literally less than a dropper full left, it was crystallized)
a small-dog flea collar (what dog--small or otherwise!?)
a plastic cup full of change (Hello hubby's stash-turned-ice-cream-truck-money!)
11 (yes, e l e v e n) garlic salts
old tubes of paint (from decorating the "nursery" for my first child)
a brand new bottle of Pepto-Bismal with creepy, abnormal separation of liquids not unlike what happens to milk (expiry: 2009; do not remember buying that!)
4 opened, nearly full boxes of cornstarch (really?)
A number "5" candle (I assume I purchased for my daughter whom will be 7 in a couple of months)
3 unused Easter egg dying kits (sucker for clearance items; must remember I'm all set for next year...)

Nothing short of shameful. I KNOW I've been up there digging around and cleaning before...I think...I hope...!!? How did all that junk get past me for all these years!? It is an odd feeling to know that a bottle of ibuprofen has lived in your house longer than YOU have.

By the weekend the little princess was back to herself, and I took her place on the couch. I don't know if it was a cold or a sinus infection, but it doesn't matter at all because either was I was miserable! The kiddos were pretty well-behaved considering the fact that I neglected them for three days in a row. I felt so yucky that I couldn't even feel guilt about it at the time.

For the Fourth of July I planned on the continuation of my loafing and pity partying alone with the kids since my husband works retail (holidays are never a day off). But then I unexpectedly received a call from a friend and decided the kids deserved some fun-after all, they had gone along with my sickness for about four days-so we got dressed and got together with the Websters at the MacKenzie home. I am SO glad I pulled it together (and by "pulled it together" I mean found clothes on the floor, forgot to brush my hair, and didn't care about make up, or apparently deodorant as I figured out as the day progressed...oops!) and went. Did I mention this was the first time I had ever been invited to this couple's home? Yep, that's right. I'll keep you posted if I'm ever asked back, HAHA. After that I really don't know; I tried to assure everyone it was just sinus, but I'm not sure they were convinced. Really! It IS just sinus, though. Although the first hour or so after arriving was spent in a zombie-like trance I had a great time and I left much, much later than I anticipated due to the fact that everyone was having such a good time that the hours just slipped by unnoticed. After spending the entire afternoon in the pool, being treated to yummy sno-cones, and then a spontaneous snowball fight, topped off by golf-carts rides around the property the kids passed out in the car on the ride home and were tucked into bed flawlessly.

Who needs fireworks!?

Okay, now where is that Benadryl.....................

Parenting Tip

2011-06-15T08:16:00.001-04:00

Do not allow children to bowl with watermelons. It just never ends well.

The really sad part is that I hadn't realized this fact was something which needed to be explained. Had I only had known that my kids' dad was previously uninformed of proper watermelon handling I would have saved myself a lot of juicy, red mess.

Not to worry:

He has now been informed. Very loudly.

Preparing for Vacation

2011-06-02T06:39:00.003-04:00

I always feel guilty for admitting that our family is about to go on "vacation". Vacation...From WHAT!? My whole life is a vacation! I feel self-conscience talking about our upcoming trips, feeling that my friends and family probably think I am completely spoiled...a darn accurate assumption, by the way! It makes me uncomfortable mostly because I know how fortunate we are being able to go places and have that time together, a luxury most families do not get to indulge in.

Now that I have convinced you how much guilt I feel about my trip, let's discuss it!

I realize I only have three children, but the amount of time it takes to get ready for a two week long absence makes it seem like there are many more than that. I am what some (*less organized*) folks may refer to as "neurotic". I break up the packing into stages: pre-packing, packing, and finalizing. (Sussette, stop laughing-I can hear you form here!)

The pre-packing phase starts about two weeks prior to departure, and includes planning meals up to the last day home so we don't have perishables or leftovers, making a list of all the things I can't live without so I don't forget anything, and paying the bills which will be due while we're away.

The packing phase begins one week before we leave and the bulk of this is laundry. The kids are forced to wear embarrassing ensembles for the entire week because their acceptable clothing is off-limits while I fill the suitcases. The other bulk of this week is threatening and yelling at the kids because they will not stop emptying said suitcases, climbing inside, and packing each other. I cannot count the amount of times I re-pack suitcases. It's as if they have never seen their clothes before and they insist on playing fashion show. They also insist on "helping" by packing the items they cannot live without. Their list of essentials literally takes up every inch of available space and takes much time to UNpack and put away. These items include, but are not limited to: babydolls and their many accessories, action figures (all Pirates themed, of course), hairbows (ironically, since she NEVER does her hair), a few random blocks, pillow pets, and a ship (yes, a pirate ship). The toiletries bag is the item of most contention. There is something downright irresistible about that bag. The special "vacation-only" toothpaste and toothbrushes, the somehow different-than-ordinary q-tips, everything in that forbidden bag of temptation. No matter how closely I watch it they somehow always manage to divert my attention just long enough to dump out and ransack the contents.

The three days leading up to vacation is crunch-time! Between training the girl down the street to care for the pool, cleaning out the refrigerator, and checking my list twice these days are pure chaos and excitement. I no longer feel exasperated when the kids ask, "Are we leaving NOW??" To the contrary, my automatic response "Nope, in ___ days" is laced with my own excitement, even upon the umpteenth reply (in one hour...before sunrise...several days to go...).

But of course, no Goodman vacation would be complete without turmoil during the preparing. This year we had car trouble, pool trouble, and grocery trouble. The pre-packing phase was interrupted by the AC in Rick's truck acting "funny". This was our clue that something was wrong with MY truck a couple of years ago so we knew it needed to go in. Without the extra vehicle I was homebound, which prevented me from meal-planning properly. One would think this no big deal seeing that my dear husband, you know, WORKS AT A GROCERY STORE. Sparing you the lengthy details, lets just say the kids and I are sick of ramen noodles and PB&J. The absolute worst fallout from not being able to shop: no coffee. That's right, I was coffee-less two days before scheduled departure! Oh, the inhumanity. That was a wake-up call (er...lack thereof...?) to hubs: he finally brought provisions home.

Like any good mechanic knows how to do, the price tag to repair the truck induced cardiac arrest and we decided to take our chances and take the truck without repair. Prayers welcomed.

The pool trouble started during the packing week. The water was testing perfectly, however it was getting cloudier by the day. After a few days we admitted defeat and called in the repair guy. One painful check and a new pump later, it was STILL cloudy. Not good news when we are supposed to leave within days; obviously we can't leave the pool like that or else it would need to be emptied by the time we arrived back home. So another painful check, several bottles of magic chemicals, and hours of precious packing time spent babysitting the pool, it was finally back to normal and safe to leave. All of the unforeseen complications kinda put a wrench in my planning, but flexible and adaptable momma that I am handled it just fine: bribes and pleading for cooperation was all it took to get back on track, and I am happy to report that I even have spare time to blog.

Inevitably, we will pull out of our driveway and make it out of the neighborhood only to have Rick blurt an explicative and turn back home. Every. Single. Time. He forgets something. I get the house, three children, and myself ready and all he has to do is show up and drive and he still manages to forget something (usually something I find rather stupid, such as checking the back door (I already did it) or his spare sunglasses). Hmm, maybe someone should have made a list. I have spent much time contemplating this and have come to the conclusion he does it just to tick me off. Mission accomplished, we generally spend the majority of the 6 hour drive bickering. Good family memories in the making. ;) Hopefully my next post will be from the beach-less than 12 hours to go!! YAY!

BAD Day

2011-04-19T19:25:00.003-04:00

Sooo bad...that I can't even blog about it.
I guess not everyday can be rainbows and ice cream trucks, right?

On a brighter note: the tightness in my chest has unclenched into a dull throb. YAY! And all three ~~monsters~~ darling children are asleep by 7pm. That is a blessing straight from God to me because He knew I could not take one. more. minute.

Looking forward to tomorrow; we are all going to Saint Augustine to the Chrism Mass at the Cathedral and our friends will be there, too. After that we are going to make waves at the beach (get it!?). I suppose I'd better get packing...yes, packing. Because Rick is coming with us so we will be 5. All needing pretty church clothes, casual clothes, and swimsuits, towels, sunblock, snacks, and various shoes. Gotta go charge the camera battery and finish laundry. Then I can close my eyes on this dreadful day and wake up to a good morning. :)

Fun Saturday

2011-04-16T13:24:00.005-04:00

Today we were outside and we noticed a bunch of ants dragging a dead bug across the carport. Sarah and I think bugs are gross so we kept our distance. But my boys were captivated by the strength of the ants and gathered round to cheer them on. They were truly appreciative; Patrick said, "Thank you, ants!" so cutely I had to take a photo so I would remember the day my son thanked the ants for their bug removal services. Minutes after this it started to rain steadily. It came out of a blue sky, completely unannounced, and thrilled the kids beyond belief. An unnexpected rain to run through is apparently one of life's joys. Then to top off the moment Luke and Patrick simultaneously screetched, "ICE CREAM!!!" and we all looked down the street to see the familiar Saturday sight-a bright yellow ice cream truck playing tell-tale music. So they scrambled to gather their quarters from the kitchen counter and bought ice cream in the rain under a sunny, bright blue sky. Magical childhood moments I tell you.

I Was Tagged

2011-04-15T16:43:00.005-04:00

My friend Jessica tagged me to list five reasons why I love Jesus. I am supposed to tag five others to do the same, but since I pathetically do not have that many friends I choose to tag no one. So there! Here they are:

1. I often feel inadequate to teach my children about God and our faith so I am constantly presented opportunities to "teach" them...without working at it. For example, when the children notice the beauty around them (the blue of the sky, a rainbow, trees) it opens the door for a natural, laid back-yet effective-conversation about God.

2. No matter what happens I know He's got my back.

3. I have been blessed with a personality which allows me to love God without having to question every aspect of faith (why do bad things happen, etc). I like it this way. ;)

4. I have never TRULY felt alone. Even in the darkest hours of despair, when I wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear, when I turned my back to God and swore I didn't love Him anymore like a child angry with his parents. I knew He was there. Waiting for me to calm down so He could comfort me. I didn't even WANT Him to be there...but He was.

5. And the final reason I love Jesus is cause He loves ME!! And my nutty kids. I love how the good in life will ALWAYS outweigh the bad because good always triumps.

No Time To Post!

2011-04-07T13:25:00.002-04:00

Every time I sit down to hack out a post someone comes up to fool around with the computer, ask for something ridiculous, or just plain I am too tired to see straight. There are plenty of little things that happen, cute tidbits of the day I really want to remember...but then I forget them. :( The whole reason my blog was born was so I could journal the antics of my kids' fleeting childhood, put them in print so when I'm lonely in my neat and tidy home with nary a stray toy to step on I have a sort of comfy, warm emotional blanket to wrap myself in. I am so neurotic about everything else...I need to set aside 30 minutes per week to blog. Hmmm...maybe I could jot down the hilarious stuff on a piece of paper so I won't forget. I'd have to figure out a place to keep said paper from being destroyed........ I want to remember the baby streaking for the garbage men...three weeks in a row. I want to be able to smile when I pull up the image of all three kids hiding in my closet with a dozen markers...completely decorated from face to feet. One day it might not be so terrible that we have blue patches on the ceilings...from Flarp (Google it) being mishandled. And instead of wanting to smack his bottom, maybe I'll remember Patrick's spunk when I re-read about the macaroni and cheese food fight he started while I was in the shower...and I had to peel it off the walls. Yep, setting aside time seems like the right thing to do. I just need to get the kids on-board so that can become a reality. ;)

Freedom...Part 2!?

2010-12-01T05:51:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I had two more glorious hours to myself. I didn't feel like going anywhere so Rick decided he was going to the store anyway. Patrick really wanted to go so I got him dressed. Since my eldest two kids are completely codependent, Sarah wanted to go too. Then Rick figured he may as well take the baby along. !!! WHAT!? This coming from the man who lets the children play in the car (instead of with him) while he does yardwork, the guy who can't manage the three of them long enough for me to take a real shower, the dad who has no idea where we keep the medicine, shoes, or diapers.

I waved goodbye from the window and counted to 10. The truck didn't reappear. The phone did ring, however. Do they miss me? Maybe you should come back? I had no idea what to do with my free time so I went and laid down since I'm chronically exhausted. I was so excited that I couldn't sleep so I got up, did some laundry, played on the computer, put some lights up for Christmas, and chatted on the phone for a few minutes. I even got to read a little. It was awesome!

I had time to think, too..which is always a dangerous past time. I realized that Rick is either dying, or on drugs. When confronted with this, he simply answered, "I just wanted you to have some time alone." Okay...maybe I'm dying and I don't know it yet.

Mass Without Children

2010-11-29T06:30:00.002-05:00

Yesterday my man was off from work and decided that he didn't want to go to church with us. I (half) jokingly said, "Well if you don't want to go then your punishment is keeping one or two of the kids with you so I can catch a word or two of the homily for once." To my utter shock he agreed, and on top of that declared that he would keep ALL of them home. Clearly this was his idea of a sick joke and I wasn't falling for it. But as the time creeped closer for us (me?) to leave he never started laughing and pointing or hinting that he'd changed his mind. Finally it was time for me to go and I kissed my sticky kids and hugged my hubby goodbye. I made sure he knew where the shoes were (sadly, he really doesnt know such things), begged that he feed them real food and not junk to buy their cooperation, and aske dnumerous times if he "was sure about this".....and then I peeled out of the driveway leaving a splaying of dust and pebbles without a second glance in the rearview in fear they would chase me down and take away my freedom before it had even started.

I glanced around, almost nervously...it felt forbidden...it felt GOOD! I couldn't think of anything to do so I decided to listen to the radio, but that plan fell through because only one station would come in and it was a vulgar talk show for guys with no hope of getting a woman. I looked to my right and remembered that Sarah had broken the attenna off of my truck. No problem, I'll just listen to my iPod... Good plan until my phone rang. Rick. Wanting to know where I was. Really...? I'm 5 minutes away from home! That's okay, I'll just enjoy the silence. Wow, silence is creepy. So I started talking outloud to myself.

Upon arriving at my church I got out and opened the backdoor. I had already partially climbed in to unlock the carseat in the back before I realized there was nobody strapped in. I ambled to the sidewalk, never stopping to look at a rock or a bug or a weed poking out from the concrete. I didn't have to count heads, my pace wasn't broken by a skinned knee or a butterfly needing to be caught. Once inside I could sit where ever I pleased, not somewhere close to an exit. I didn't have to help anyone bless themselves. The woman sitting beside me asked if I attended regularly. Clearly, she was impressed to see a high school girl dutifully going to Mass alone. I explained I usually have three children with me, and I felt pangs of guilt as I did so.

I listened to every word that was said, answered each responsorial, actually prayed something besides Lord, just get me through the rest, please! I even got to smile fondly at the man who had to carry his squirming, talkative baby outside. I got to feel what it felt like to NOT be the one being smiled (or-more rarely-glared) at. My offering envelope was perfectly intact as there was nobody there to fight over who gets to put it in the basket. No bickering to quiet, no nose-picking, no Walk of Shame, no having to nurse someone...all this peace before the first reading.

Shhh--Don't tell anybody!! But I really did not enjoy myself. Children NEED to be at Mass just like the rest of us; even if they have to be taken out for a spanking three times. People asked where they were and I was ashamed to answer "Daddy has them at home". I appreciate that my hubby was trying to be helpful and do me a favor, and I shocked myself by drawing the conclusion that I would rather whether embarrassment and frustration than worship Christ alone, without my blessings beside me. (Or more accurately, under or on me.)

When I pulled up to my house, I was greeting by shouts of joy and smothered with wet baby kisses. The kids were happy to see me as well. As predicted, the two hours I was gone cost me approximately one afternoon of clean-up, one load of laundry, and $17 worth of groceries. The price was well-worth the lesson learned: bring the kids to church! Jesus wants them there!

My Man-In-Training

2010-11-27T19:44:00.002-05:00

The Holy Spirit knows when I need a little something...I love, love, LOVE my little darlings. Most of the time. But it never fails-just when I feel I may fail as a mother, the Lord gives me something to hold onto and it helps me realize most of the things I get upset about are, well, stupid.

Today my hubby had to go into work for night #2 in a row of 4 this week. My middle child is the one with the shortest attention span, whom wakes every.single. night. and screams for 10 minutes, the one whom I can bathe and strap into his carseat and still will manage to be a sticky, dirty mess. He is also the most sensitive, generous child in the household. He gets very upset when his daddy has to go to work...

He asked the same thing he asks everyday: "Daddy work?" Upon hearing, "Yep, Daddy has to go to work to make money," he teared up and ran to his room. I, of course, am used to this scenario as it happens the same way each day. The tears are always genuine, but today was different: He emerged from his room with two fistfuls of change from his piggy bank and with the most hopeful expression, offered it to his father. I was fighting tears and my mentally challenged husband didn't get it. So I explained: "He gave you every cent he has thinking since you are going to work for money you will be able to stay home."

He should have called in sick! I know I don't do everything (even HALFthing) right, but moments like that make me realize I really need to get on the ball and help these munchkins use the gifts God gave them. I have been away too long...I'm ready to come back. And I owe it to my kids!

2010-11-16T09:50:00.004-05:00

I had today planned out so nicely in my head: pack up my well-behaved, clean children and head to their favorite, never-crowded playground where we would put our $5 Little Caesar's pizza and drinks on the huge picnic table, and the wind would not blow our napkins away. But the 80% chance of severe thunderstorms called for 100% change of plans and we decided to make today a baking day.

I make banana bread frequently since I always have ~~rotten~~ overripe bananas around. The kids like to take turns putting the ingredients in the bowl, and more often than not they disappear until that magical moment when they get to lick the beaters clean. I have a rich fantasy life: in my imagination I have a clean home, kids with impeccable manners, and we have way more fun than everyone else. The upside to my sleep-deprivation is that it allows me just enough crazy to actually convince myself that this is halfway true...call it self-preservation!

In my head we have two loaves of bread-one for daddy to take to work and another for our breakfast tomorrow morning. My smiling children happily help me and do not fight at all. We all laugh together and after the bread bakes we sit with hot chocolate and watch the rain and no one spills anything. This is what really happened:

I got the bowls and ingredients out and pulled a chair up to the counter so the kids could reach to "help". (After this part, it's all a blur, but Ill do my best...)
Luke was standing at the sink (see previous post to read about his obsession with washing dishes). He was entertaining himself peacefully while the older two were getting ready to bake.
They ambushed me. I know it was an ambush and not a series of unfortunate coincidences because it was too masterfully orchestrated.
At this point Sarah must have given the imperceptible signal because in one instant Luke dumped a cup of water on the floor-he had backup cups ready to go because they kept coming one after another.
As copious amounts of water flooded the floor my cat-like reflexes kicked in and I turned off the water and removed Luke from his battle station.
My finely-tuned danger-radar alerted me to possible follow-up attacks and I spun around in time to see Patrick flinging my spices from the cabinet. Sarah was beside him, furiously scribbling the bottoms of my loaf pans with black marker.
I went ninja on them and smacked their behinds before they knew it was coming. (Not to worry-if you think this can't be done, rest assured that with the dedication and sheer determination, you too will be able to spank multiple bottoms at one time.)
Three hours (NOT including clean-up) later we really did have two yummy loaves of banana bread.

It was over as quickly as it started and they retreated to the playroom to ~~plan the next ambush~~ play with their toys. I started to let my guard down and relax a bit, even enjoying the moment...the smell of the loaves baking...the wind blowing the impending rain scent in through the open windows...and just how lucky I am to be able to take in moments like that.

We had two truckloads of firewood delivered (we like to light many fires during the winter). When the couple showed up to unload it in the carport Bonnie & Clyde (better known as Sarah and Patrick) morphed back into the heathen children they like to be in front of other people. I have spent many hours trying to figure out why they do that to me, but I have never come up with an answer. At first they just sat in the doorway, watching and talking between themselves. Then...they morphed. They started fighting like two starving dogs over one steak. I looked at the firewood people, rolled my eyes, and said in a hushed, secretive voice, "I can't wait till their mom comes to pick them up." I know, I know. But it was just one of those things...I blurted it out before really thinking about it. I'll do better tomorrow.

This was quite possibly the worst bread-making experience to date.

2010-11-07T14:53:00.004-05:00

Last night I thought I would try to save time by letting the baby come into the shower with me so that I would only have the other two to take care of in the tub. So when he was nice and clean I put him in his cozy jammies (it has been cold the past few nights!) and combed his unruly hair and brushed his teeth. He was downright adorable.

I was so pleased with myself I decided to step it up a notch and I put toothpaste on the older children's toothbrushes so that all they'd have to do was come inside from playing and jump in the bath and everything would be all perfect and ready. Well they had other plans as usual and while I was bust preparing (thinking I was on top of things) they jumped in the hot tub. I heard the noise so I checked on them (I have no problem with them playing in there-it is shallow and they are all able to swim, plus I can see them clearly from the kitchen/living room). Sigh...

So I obviously had to change his PJs and get him into a new diaper. After that was over I had to hang up his wet clothes and while I was doing that (no more than 30 seconds, I swear!), I don't know how he managed to get a hold of a candle, but he did. Don't worry-it wasn't lit. But it was covered in soot, which he smeared all over his face when he wiped his eyes. I had to scrub him clean again-candle smudge is surprisingly hard to get off of skin. Right after declaring him acceptable for bed, he pooped. So much for saving time!

Not A Baker

2010-11-05T18:48:00.002-04:00

We decided to make cookies since the kids really wanted to go to the park, but I didn't feel like getting dressed beyond my embarrassing "home" clothes. It was chilly today so it felt like the perfect thing to do; open the windows and doors and let the oven warm the kitchen while we smell yummy cookies baking and eat more batter than we should.

I followed the recipe to the letter-did everything exactly as it was written. Just like I always do. And just like always-they turned out terribly. I cannot even describe my cookies...Let me try: they are nasty looking, but taste okay (most of the time!). They are somehow an unnatural combination of too soft and too hard while taking on a heinous shape that does NOT in any way resemble a cookie. Usually what we wind up with is little chunks of somewhat-tasty hard (yet soft?)...stuff.

Sarah wouldn't even try them. She looked at the mangled mess on the counter and made a face and walked away, thoroughly disgusted. My sweet middle child decided to eat them, but judging from the pile I found behind the couch I'm guessing he wasn't as impressed as he led me to believe. Luke just kept grabbing them and marching directly to the trash can. Once again my hours of mixing, measuring, and trying so so hard was fruitless. Cookies are the one thing I cannot ever get right no matter what.

**Update: I decided to let the older children watch TV for a bit before bed under the condition that they would watch in silence. (They baby is already asleep-for now.) Par for the course-they blew it and I made them go to bed with the TV off. Patrick was very perturbed by this and started to cry. In between sobs he told me, "YOUR COOKIES ARE YUCKY!! I TRIED THEM AND THEY ARE YUCK!!". HAHAHA...I swear I am not making that up. I stopped writing my post about my inability to bake cookies and my son insulted them as the worst thing he could think of to say to me while he was angry. heehee Just had to add that.

2010-10-26T15:07:00.002-04:00

Wow, two posts in one day.

I was doing school with Sarah this morning and Patrick went outside to jump on the trampoline. I only did maybe 10 minutes worth of writing when Patrick comes running in covered in what I assumed to be ash from the grill. (He has done that before-played in the grill.)

So I had to stick him in the tub because he was beyond repair. A quick glance outside didn't alert me to anything too terrible. About 30 minutes later Daddy went outside to start some projects (the same projects he's been working on for about a year coughcough) and starts yelling about how cement got everywhere. Um, cement? Yes, somehow Patrick managed to find a bag of cement, open it, and fling it EVERYWHERE in the shed., All of the Christmas decorations were ashy, the tools, the floor was like a cement beach.

So hubby spent the next 3 hours emptying and cleaning the cement off of our belongings while I kept the kids inside (read: out of the way). I put away a load of dishes from the dishwasher and was re-loading it with the few things that had accumulated from the morning when I grabbed a plastic cup that was on its side. I didn't give it a second thought; I had no reason to. I just picked it up carelessly to set it in the washer. Big mistake-this soggy glob of wetness flung in my face;l I was temporarily blinded by this horrible goop from the sink. I had no idea what it was yet, but my mind was playing all kinds of tricks on me-I was picturing festering drain gunk as I was rubbing at my eyes and stumbling around...actually, stumbling backwards...right into a tiny puddle of leftover hot dog water. Which I promptly slipped on and fell into. I still reek of hot dog. Yuck!

For the record-the substance in the cup was unwanted pop-tart.

Clean House? Nope!

2010-10-26T09:17:00.012-04:00

The past few weeks I have been catching Luke doing a lot of pushing chairs up to the counter so he can climb up and get into everything. Occasionally, he climbs up for the sole purpose of cleaning. Yup, cleaning. If there is a paper towel on the floor he will use it to spot clean the tile. If there's laundry scattered about he will put it in the appropriate "pile". He is me. Here he is sneaking doughnuts and washing dishes, respectively:

Sometimes scrubbing the sink requires actually sitting in said sink:

Luke also likes playing in the car. This is 100% my hubby's fault because he thinks it is okay to open the car doors and let the children play while he wanders around the yard. So whenever we play outside I have to battle with the kids because"daddy lets them". Here is just one example of why letting children play in cars is a stupid idea: BBQ sauce fingerpaint. I am often told by friends who come over to our house that it is "clean," or even that I am a "neat freak". I wold like to take this opportunity to set the record straight: I decided to clean behind the entertainment center and found this. I am particularly disturbed by the unfamiliar substance on the lower right. I have closely examined this and cannot figure out what it could be. It resembles cat puke, but I am positive it's not. Not play-doh, not food, not gum. It's a mystery. So there it is, folks. The proof that my house is nastier than yours! :) See, I am not a clean freak. And apparently I have no shame either since I am willing to post such a disgusting photo.

So THAT'S what a "weekend" is!?

2010-10-18T07:36:00.002-04:00

I don't know if other moms out there feel like this, but to me a Saturday may as well be a Monday or Thursday...my kids don't go to public school and my husband VERY rarely has a weekend day off. My routine pretty much stays the same from day to day. So I do not grasp the excitement people feel for The Weekend.

Until this past weekend, that is! It was awesome! The kids and I drove my brother to the airport. He stayed at our house for a month so we were all ready to say our goodbyes. After we dropped him off we went to visit a friend of ours whom we have not seen in about three years. By some miracle we were able to spend the entire afternoon with our buddy, whom is usually extremely busy, at a beautiful park where there were two separate playgrounds and a shallow stream that ran through with many bridges for the kids to cross and play on. The day could not have been more perfect-God is good! The children took off their shoes and played in the water, got completely filthy, added grass stains to their outfits: just perfect! You can measure the amount of fun a child has had by the amount of filth on their clothes and body. My kids had a BLAST.

After the park we all decided we were hungry and went to eat. Then we brought our friend home, washed up, put jammies on and loaded back up in the car for the hour and fifteen minute ride home. After years of sleep deprivation I have become a bit neurotic about my bedtime routine. I have done this many, many times (dress the kids for bed so they fall asleep in the car), and it always works flawlessly. I am a bedtime genius. I left at 7:15, which is the exact time I would get the kids to bed if we had been home. All they had to do was fall asleep and I would move them to their beds when we arrived home.

About 20 minutes into the ride I looked in the mirror with satisfaction as Sarah's eyes closed. A quick check on Patrick showed he was not far behind-he looked as if his eyes were shut and he had big blue eyes painted on his eyelids. I swear I kept watching him and that child never blinked once. (lol) Luke, of course, had blood-curdling screams coming out lasting the *entire* ride, save the last 15 minutes. So my plan back-fired for the first time: Sarah slept long enough that she felt rested up, Patrick just stared the whole way so I assume his brain shut off as if he were asleep and resting, and Luke kept himself awake by screaming.

We walked inside at 8:30 and the kids were in great spirits...I was not so happy. I made them a bed in the living room (they wanted to camp out) genuinely thinking they would fall asleep watching TV. WRONG AGAIN. They partied like I have never seen them. They were awake at 10:30 when my hubby got home from work. They were awake when said hubby and myself realized we could no longer stay awake. I took the baby into bed with me because (thankfully) he was ready for sleep. They were even awake at 12:30 when I came out to check on them. Daddy was passed out on the living room floor and Sarah and Patrick were watching Pirates of the Caribbean (I still don't know how she learned to use the DVR!?) and had sugar cookies scattered about. Sarah was holding a butter knife covered in orange Halloween icing. Between them was the container of frosting. At that point I didn't really care anymore and simply turned around and went back to bed. At 1:30 am I checked again and the cookies were cleaned up (or more likely eaten), and the rugrats were FINALLY asleep. I couldn't believe they stayed up so late; that is a first!

Sunday was fun, too-Rick got off work at 2 o'clock and was able to come home for supper with us. Patrick turned 4 years old that day so I made him pirate cupcakes (he is obsessed) for after the birthday dinner he requested: corn and macaroni and cheese. They all went to bed at their normal time I'm happy to report. Daddy laid down with them since it was a special occasion (birthdays and holidays are the only time he ever puts them to bed; the rest of the year it's mommy), and while we tucked them in we told Patrick his birth story, which we do every year for each of them. This was the first year he really understood what his birth story meant and that was special for me because I truly consider it an honor and a gift from God to be a mother-no matter what I blog about. ;) He had lots of questions and Sarah had a few too. After we were done talking I left with baby Luke and counted down the minutes until Rick gave up and came strolling out with two wound up kids behind him. 13 minutes. He lasted longer than he normally does.

We had ourselves a fantastic weekend; I am grateful for our many blessings. :)

Writing Style...?

2010-10-11T07:00:00.003-04:00

I saw this on a friend's blog (Thanks, Jessica!) and found it interesting. This is a true story: I knew my result before I even hit "Submit". This leaves me with a dozen unanswered questions...Has my writing technique been stolen this whole time I've been "writing"!?...Have I been influenced so heavily that I've subconsciencly picked up this style?...Is it possible I was simply drawn to this author because we are both brilliant? Did I alter my mind forever the moment I picked up one of his novels before my age hit double digits? Hmmm...this is the stuff that will keep me awake at night.

I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

(P.S. I have read nearly every book he has written-including his alter egos-I also own a bookshelf that is dedicated to King novels. Perhaps I should channel other writers for a while.....)

Let the Homeschooling BEGIN!

2010-08-23T15:37:00.002-04:00

Today is the first day of public school. My kids and I were hanging out together passing the morning the way we always do and Sarah noticed a school bus pass by the window. She realized that meant school was back in session and for the first time ever she seemed interested in going.

I have already made up my mind to homeschool her (and the boys, of course) so for a split second I wondered..."Am I doing the right thing?" In approximately 3 nanoseconds a solid, unyielding "YES" resonated throughout my entire being. Yes, this is the right path for our family. No one is going to be a better teacher for my kids than ME.

To make Sarah feel more official, I made a big deal about all the "school stuff" we did today. For example, the letter of the day is "B" and the color is blue. So we made blue play dough and banana bread. We rattled off every "b" word we could think of (well, almost all of them!). And we filled back packs with blue objects and Sarah went to school (aka-her room) and passed along her knowledge to her baby brother. It was such a good day!

**I am abandoning my post and switching gears...I have to share this story:
While I was writing this I had many thoughts going through my head. I planned on getting really in-depth about the misconceptions of homeschooled children (they are unsocialized freaks for example), and how the drive to homeschool is built-in...I was just stopped in my tracks. Patrick came and tugged at my shirt and he excitedly said, "I made Jesus". So I came and looked at his mound of play dough and sure enough there was a cross made by pressing a plastic knife through. He said he wasn't finished yet and started making blood spots and wounds.

I am honestly not sure what to do with this? This has been happening for months: he is fascinated by the crucified Jesus. I don't remember how it even started, but one day I explained what happened to Our Lord (the story of His Passion basically). I have walked into the room and seen Patrick standing under the crucifix, starting intently; several times he has even started crying because of Jesus' injuries. Another time I caught him in his room. When he saw me he had a look on his face like he was busted. Ususally this would mean there was glue in his hair or something was broken, but when I checked things out he had climbed onto a chair to reach the crucifix and brought it in his room to stare at it. He thought he was in trouble for touching it; all I did was walk away and leave him to it. He kept it for a long time and when he was finished (with whatever his little mind was doing) he simply put it back in its proper place-no damage, no swordplay...nothing improper at all.

Wouldn't be amazing if I am raising a priest!? :) But I don't know what to say to him. I get uncomfortable...I am making a promise to myself (and my kid!) that I will start praying for guidance. Hopefully when things like this happen God will take over and give me something wise to say instead of just standing there like an idiot and not taking advantage of chances to teach. I am taking a guess, but maybe God is helping me come back to Him through Patrick? I don't know...but it is working.

Markers Part.....Oh Forget It, I Lost Count

2010-08-20T15:28:00.004-04:00

I rebuke Wal-Mart and their 20 cent school supplies!

Those kids are always 1 step ahead of me, no matter how much I plan in advanced to avoid such situations. I was thoughtfully putting crayons in ziplocks and writing names on the bags with Sharpie because I am a genius and I know doing so will prevent fights when they decide to use the art supplies.

Meanwhile........

Naps are for Weenies

2010-08-19T13:37:00.004-04:00

Two days ago the baby decided he was sleepy very early in the day-9:45 am. The older kids were in a rare state and actually playing together nicely so I decided it must be a gift from God and took the opportunity to rest. Naturally, after only about 2 minutes Sarah came into the room asking me something and I silenced her in a rush and gave her strict instructions to "do whatever; just don't bother me".

So she went into Luke's room with Patrick and they were talking amongst themselves; it is not uncommon for Sarah to use the baby's room as a nursery for her dolls so I knew that was what they were doing. For 45 blissful minutes I snuggled my little guy and smelled his fading baby scent.

I never heard any arguing, crying, objects smashing into the walls, or furniture being dismantled. I was a little unnerved, but I was enjoying the peace and I was afraid to interrupt the play because they almost NEVER interact together for that long without incident.

Luke opened his eyes and squirmed and so our siesta was over. Hours passed and eventually I needed to go into Luke's room for something. This is what I saw:

I had already started cleaning when I snapped the photo-it was much worse. Anyone who knows me knows I have a touch of OCD: all of the clothes are organized according to size and season. Not anymore. The crib is usually quite inviting with stuffed animals and cozy blankets (as nobody ever sleeps in it). It was was stripped bare to the mattress and covered in cookie crumbs. The tiny jackets and cute clothes which need to be hung are kept neatly in the closet in order from smallest size to biggest and, of course, season. They were scattered all over the floor and about a dozen hangers were snapped because they tried to swing from them on the closet rail. What really scares me is they were able to completely ransack the room so swiftly and silently. I honestly was fooled into thinking they were playing house.

My 45 minute rest cost me a days' worth of work. I realize that the children are old enough to know better-they know that tearing stuff up like that is NOT okay. However I didn't know how I should react since I clearly told them to do whatever they wanted as long as they didn't wake Luke and I up. So the next morning we started re-organizing the clothes, putting the crib back together, and getting the diapers back on the shelves. Each time they asked to get into the pool I answered, "We can't play in the pool today because we have to clean the baby's room that you destroyed." Believe me, they asked literally every 3 minutes. But I never gave in. Finally order was restored and we could do something fun. I'm hopeful my technique worked at least a little because I heard Sarah telling Patrick if he messed up his room "mommy will be mad and then...no pool!"

Dear Lord, Please don't ever tease me with a nap again. It's just not right. Amen.

2010-08-15T09:13:00.002-04:00

Last Thursday my hubby and I packed up the truck and headed to South FL for our niece's wedding. On Friday the five of us donned our swimsuits and went to the beach first thing in the morning. Just us, towels, sunblock, and the beach-that is definitely the happiest I can get (okay, okay...Disney World is a tie).

The rest of the weekend passed; visited family and went out to eat quite a bit. The wedding was on Sunday and our plan was to leave early Monday morning as Rick had to work that night. I dressed the kids and they looked extremely cute in their fancy clothes. I made sure to take lots of photos so I would always remember just how sweet they were at this age.

Five minutes before we left the wedding venue I looked down at the table where I had laid my phone literally two minutes prior...GONE. We had no choice but to give up searching; it was obviously stolen and not coming back. I bawled the entire way back to my mother-in-law's house. Sobbing like I haven't in a very long time. It wasn't the loss of the $500 iPhone, not the money that was lost in apps and music. It was the pictures. All of them just....gone. My youngest child's memories from the time of his birth...just gone. Like they had never happened. I am an idiot and haven't backed up my phone in ages so there is no way to recover them. The only pictures I have of precious moments with my baby are on Facebook. There were so many on my phone that I never shared on Facebook-his first smile, first tooth, first skinned knee, first EVERYTHING. We never think we will forget, but we do. All those little moments that make up motherhood. Siblings sharing hugs, chocolate-covered faces, playing in the rain. Things that would not interest your "friends" online, but that meant the world to you as a mom. They fade in your memory; that's why we take photos. I have not gotten over it yet.

Thanks to that loser taking my property I was also locked out of my e-mail and Facebook accounts. So there I was: no phone, no e-mail, nothing! Literally completely cut off from everyone! I didn't know what to do-I was used to constantly being connected. I had become one of those people who are dependent on technology-I don't know anyone's phone number or e-mail address by heart; in the past I could recite dozens of contacts...not anymore. My phone contained my ENTIRE life. It was a wake-up call. When I laid down at night I would pray, "Please God, I NEED my stuff back-bring it back!" After the fist couple of nights my prayer changed to, "Thank you God for forcing me to realize how I have been managing my life. I wish you could have picked a cheaper way, but...thanks."

After days of pleading with Yahoo they agreed to grant me access to my account. From there I was able to get into my FB and look at the pictures that I no longer have. I was taught a valuable lesson: BACK UP YOUR PHOTOS!! Once they are gone they are GONE-forever. Also, while it is fun and convenient to be connected at all times, it is all too easy to get wrapped up in it. That week without the ability to be online was awful! I felt lost!! But my kids and I spent more time together. Don't get me wrong-I spend ALL of my time with my kids. However, it was different because I knew there was no use in wandering over to the laptop. I didn't have a phone to turn on and zone out with. So our time was uninterrupted. I don't spend much time online at one sitting. It's too dangerous in this house. But I do check my phone a lot...maybe out of boredom with the daily hum-drum, maybe because I am lonely. Whatever the reason, I never thought much of it until I wasn't able to do it and I saw how much I accomplished.

I really do try my best to engage with my children: we build hotels with blocks, finger paint, bake cookies, all of those fun things. But this past week I went through clothes, caught up the laundry, cleaned closets. Simplified.

I did replace my iPhone. (YIPPEE!) But now it will just be an awesome, fun phone...not a distraction from the things I am trying to avoid in my life.

Chasing Batman

2010-08-04T15:21:00.002-04:00

Two days ago we took my younger cousin back-to-school shopping at Target. We ran into someone we know from church and he pointed to the ceiling and said, "Look!"...so we looked. There was a huge black bat flying frantically around in the corner.

Patrick immediately screamed, "BATMAN!!" and ran across the store. I had to grab the baby (who now weighs more than a quarter of my own weight!) and run after him while dragging Sarah by the arm. I got nervous because Patrick was out of sight, but it didn't last long since I could follow the shrieks of "BATMAN! LOOK!! BATMAN!!!" When I caught up to my son the bat had clearly realized it was in his best interest to vanish because it was nowhere to be seen. It really made Patrick's day. :)

2010-07-25T13:38:00.005-04:00

I am writing a blog post because I am so mad at my heathens right now and posting may be therapeutic.

I have been locked in a battle of wills with Sarah and Patrick all morning, and now, all afternoon. I want them to start helping me out more now that I've started homeschooling (YAY!), plus they are old enough to know how to take a more active/helpful role in our home. So their chore was to clean up the playroom. I have that room set up perfectly-everything has a place. They know where each and every toy belongs. It would have taken them less than 30 minutes to clean the room had they just gotten it over with. But nope; they have gone between just sitting there glaring at me to throwing the toys around to playing with the stuff and making an even bigger mess. All of those things, by the way, are fine with me. I don't care what they do as long as at some point they finish the chore themselves.

It is 2 pm and the room is completely trashed. It was only mildly messy when they started. It is killing me-usually by now I would have gone in there and done it all myself in a few minutes and we would be outside in the pool. But for some reason I decided it HAD to be this way today and now I can't go back on it because it will set me up for future failures. Me and my stupid ideas.

A neighbor knocked on our door so I went outside so I could chat. While I was outside (a grand total of 5-10 minutes) the little punks went into my bathroom, threw water balloons at the ceiling, opened my very favorite coconut scented lotion and squirted it all over the floor and themselves, and then came outside laughing hysterically. In their underwear. Covered with several feminine products that were glued to their bodies by my very favorite coconut scented lotion.

I couldn't decide which I wanted more: to die or to kill them. I don't know what the neighbors think ( I can guess!), but I shooed them inside and spanked their heinies and while I was cleaning up the mess in my bathroom I banished them to the playroom to finish "cleaning". I straightened up as fast as I could because I know from previous experiences my children get on a roll...in the time it takes to clean up one mess they can have another, much more impressive, disaster in another room. It was then that I noticed their "fort". They had raw baking potatoes and pudding under the bunk beds along with unopened bags of popcorn. I thought that was a rather odd choice of food to hide, but I learned long ago not to think too much about the weird things my children do because it makes me self-conscience. :)

Oh no-it's quiet...I can't write anymore.

I should have gone to church.

Update: My Tree

2010-04-25T09:47:00.002-04:00

Sadly, my gardenia did not survive the tractor mauling. The leaves are all brown and it leans painfully sideways now matter how many times I adjust the stake which is supposed to support it upright. Thanks, daughter!

I Need More Sleep

2010-04-25T09:40:00.003-04:00

I just put a nasty trash bag inside the laundry room and threw away a load of laundry needing to be washed. It didn't even dawn on me till I went into the utility room to put the clothes in the washer and saw the garbage bag in the place where the clothes would have been. So I had to go out to the big cans and dig out our clothes, yuck! The neighbors already think I'm a few cards short of a deck so I'm not worried what they were thinking. It's official: I am NOT getting enough rest. haha! I'm getting tired of making these mistakes; putting milk in the oven and the coffee in the fridge...sigh.

Ahhh...Springtime!

2010-04-09T16:00:00.002-04:00

It's so nice outside. This is the three weeks of the year here in Florida before the real heat arrives that we can air the house and survive leaving the AC off...butterflies flutter from azalea to wisteria...children are able to sprint through the sprinklers and blow bubbles in the backyard. It's truly God showing off; giving us just enough beauty to make up for the harsh cold weather we recently endured.
And did I mention the pollen? The boogie noses and yellow cars, the pool we painstakingly clean in preparation for the upcoming months just to watch helplessly as pollen clogs the filter...ah, yes-Spring is here.

We recently went to Home Depot and picked out some potted plants to put in the yard (we have tried seeds and tiny flowers in the past, but they just don't hold up well between the cats, kids, and my neglect). Whilst we were debating which plants were prettiest a gardenia tree caught my eye. It was beautiful-still a baby, but I saw it in the future-tall and strong and in full bloom; there is no comparison to the sweet smell of gardenia...I was intimidated by it youthfulness, you have to understand-I can kill artificial plants. Rick was intimidated by the 30 dollar price sticker, but I got my way and we came home with a cute gardenia tree for the front yard.

We planted it that evening-I carefully chose the perfect spot where I could see it from my kitchen window, since I spend so much time there. I felt a little silly, being so excited about a tree...Then I realized I don't care if it's silly: it's a little baby tree that I get to take care of and it's beautiful, and it's mine. So there.

Each night for the next week I went outside just after dusk after the kids were sleeping soundly and the dishes had been cleaned up and the laundry had..well, had been crammed into the utility room where I could continue to ignore it...I turned the hose on and diligently watered my very own tree, taking care to make sure all the leaves got a drink and saturating the ground all around the fragile little trunk. It made me happy for some reason I really don't know. I'm not exactly a nature girl. I hate bugs, I don't like sweat, all that, but this little tree brought me happiness.

A few afternoons ago I had the doors opened as usual so I could listen to the kids playing. I keep a close eye on them since we live in a subdivision where there are cars driving by. I heard the battery-powered ride-on tractor going and Luke was playing with Tupperware contentedly at my feet. It was a very peaceful day. Imagine my dismay when I glanced out the kitchen window and watched as my daughter plowed over my helpless, innocent tree with her tractor. I yelled out the window, "SARAH-STOP!", but it was too late. And I stood there for a moment too long-in shock-as she swerved around and took aim again, flattening the pitiful plant for a second time.

I flew outside and used every ounce of willpower that I had to NOT pick her up by her hair and throttle her. The smug, satisfied expression on her face just added insult to injury. I promptly gave Patrick a turn on the tractor (with strict instructions to stay the heck away from my tree!) and brought Sarah into the carport for a swat on the backside, which didn't phase her one bit.

It is uncertain whether the gardenia will live or die at press time. Say a prayer.

2010-03-03T09:10:00.002-05:00

Patrick had a little bug two nights ago. Poor guy went to sleep and I didn't think anything was wrong. About 15 minutes after I FINALLY laid my poor, sorry head down I heard scuffling, which I knew was Patrick making a spot in our bed. Then I heard coughing...followed by puking. Ugh. So I picked him up and pretty much threw him in the bathroom and made him stand there over the toilet while I picked out new jammies for him and got new sheets for the bed. I put a towel underneath his head and nervously went back to sleep. (By "nervously went back to sleep" I mean I laid down wide-eyed and waited for the next incident.)

This whole scenario took about 30 minutes...meanwhile my hubby was just laying there "sound asleep". I literally had to push him over to get the sheets off/back on. Of course he wasn't asleep-who could sleep through that!? Grrrr. But I played along and let him act oblivious.

About 45 minutes later it happened-then about every 45 minutes for the rest of the night. Yesterday morning he was okay, although he did throw up a couple more times. YAY! I think we are officially in the clear now. Now I'm just praying he keeps those germs to himself and doesn't spread it to the rest of the family. I'm not sure my husband would survive until morning if I had 3 puking kids at one time and he "slept" through it all.

Since the sickness had run it's course I figured we could make bird feeders as a way to get outside and have fun without over-doing it. Making bird feeders is fun and easy...in theory. We simply spread peanut butter on some pine cones and hang them from the little tree in our front yard. Sounds cute, right? WRONG!! We spread peanut butter not only on the pine cones, but on ourselves, the driveway, the kids' hair, the side of the car, the cat who stupidly walked up to see what we were doing. Baby Luke grabbed the pinecones and threw them everywhere so they were covered in dirt and leaves instead of bird seed (no wonder the birds seem unimpressed!). I would have taken photos, but I feared for my camera's life.

We had some birdseed in a plastic bag and we stuck the pine cones in the bag, Shake-n-Bake style. That was simple enough, but in the end we attracted more birds to the grass then to our feeders.

It was fun despite the chaos and mess. By far the most fun I've ever had with a jar of peanut butter. Tomorrow we're making crayons!! Too bad we can't do that outside...

A Boy Thing...??

2010-02-01T12:24:00.002-05:00

I am stumped:
Patrick has been having a lot of "accidents" lately. He gets so wrapped up in what he's doing that by the time he realizes he has to go...it's too late. That's cool, I can handle that-I simply remind him more often and make him take breaks from playing to go potty. But the other day he surprised me by going to the bathroom all by himself! YAY, Patrick!! When he emerged he declared: "I peed in my hair!". Umm, what?

Clearly I was disgusted and scrubbed him in the tub. The whole time I kept asking myself, Do other kids pee on their heads? How does one manage to pee in one's hair? I went over the scenario in my mind many times and never came up with an answer. (Except I think I was supposed to be a mother to GIRLS!!)

All In A Day's Work...

2009-12-21T10:03:00.002-05:00

My dad stayed with us this past weekend. The kids have never spent time with him before so it was exciting to have him here for the whole weekend!

We went and picked him up Thursday afternoon and on Friday we went about our normal routine. I brought Sarah to school early in the morning and then waited for my dad to wake up. He and I had stayed up pretty late talking Thursday night so he didn't get out of bed till 10:30. He went outside on our back patio to wake up a bit and I decided to bring Luke with me and join him. Patrick was busy in his room playing with his train set. Several minutes of conversation passed and Patrick skipped through the door towards us. Using my excellent powers of observation, I noticed that he was wearing a different pair of denim shorts. I inquired about this change of clothes as it usually means he wet his pants. He denied having an accident, but the "innocent" smile and twinkle in his bright blue eyes alerted me that something truly terrible had occurred.

I went inside the door and saw a puddle on the floor. I was actually relieved at this point because the puddle was on the tile for once instead of on the carpet. Just as I was hollering for Patrick to come inside to help clean up his mess, my voice trailed off and my stomach sank as my my eyes followed the "puddle"....down the entire length of the hallway...and to the carpets on either side of the tile...and down the hall all the way to the bedrooms...

The back of the house was flooded. Literally flooded. I tossed the baby to my dad and ran to the bathroom to turn off the full-force running faucet of the bathtub. The tub had clearly not been drained from bath time and was three-quarters full when Patrick turned the water on. I really should have taken pictures-it was bad. But that was not the time to bust out the camera. I had to move FAST to get towels onto the carpet in order to stop the water from seeping into it even more. Then I had to get the shop-vac from the utility room and take the baby so my dad could start sucking up the water all down the hallway. Of course, this occurred at the exact time I had to get Sarah from school. So I left my poor dad to shop-vac the water while I went to retrieve Sarah.

When we got back to the house dad had the water up from the tile, but the carpet was a different story. I tried everything-spent an hour breaking my back carrying my huge baby and soaking up water with towels, the shop-vac...it was soooo much; there was no way to get it all up. I set up fans to try to dry it to no avail. (Of course my husband came home later that evening and asked what I was doing while the house was flooding. I even had a witness and he still didn't believe me that it was a matter of MINUTES-seriously no more than 3 MINUTES-that all this happened.)

It gets better: while I was slaving away trying to dry up our carpet Patrick dumped out a gallon-sized ziplock baggie full of cookies. I hate trying to explain these disasters to my husband...I know it's hard to believe unless it happens to you, but it does really happen in a blink of an eye, before there's time to react. So I vacuumed up the cookies and as I was putting the vacuum away I heard Sarah and Patrick starting to argue. I sprinted to the kitchen where they were sitting at the bar counter and right in mid-sentence: "STOP-YOU'RE GOING TO SPI....." the kids knocked over my glass of Coke. Onto my laptop. At this point I was at wits' end and spanked both of them on the spot and banished them to their room. I looked at the clock--and shook my head when I saw that it was not even noon.

It is a little sad, but I was glad that my dad was there to witness the events of the morning. He was able to back up my story and basically give me a little credibility with my hubby.

If anyone has any tips for the carpet I would LOVE to hear them. It smells horrible, like mildew. I can't seem to get all the water out no matter what and now that it has been a few days it seems like the damage is permanent. Sigh...

2009-12-09T10:27:00.003-05:00

I have come to the conclusion that no matter how much I want to, I do not have power over who my kids are. I had always believed that parents could control how their kids turn out...you know, if they are "good" or "bad", what they like, their personalities. But then I had kids! All of a sudden I didn't know everything! I know it's up to me to keep them safe, happy, and healthy, but most everything else is up for grabs.

I have my little Sarah, my only daughter and I am aware that she is a tad more high-maintenance than most 5 year old girls. She's definitely spunky and mischief follows her like a second shadow; she possibly borders on the edge of normal behavior as far as trouble-making goes. But I don't think she is too strange....

Luke is as close to the perfect baby as you can get, in my completely unbiased opinion. ;) A little clingy, but I like that in a baby.

And then there is Patrick. He's...a challenge. This is not a bad thing necessarily. Just the way it is. Just the way HE is. I have tried to show him which behaviors are acceptable and which ones are not by example, with bribes, by explaining, basically you name it I have tried it. Nothing works-he is definitely his own person. And that drives me crazy! It is so hard to let go of that control...the control I think I am entitled to because they are MY kids. I finally realized they are only mine to raise-they actually belong to God-He only blessed me with the (sometime very difficult) job of taking care of them. I have often asked God why he chose these particular children to be matched with this particular mother. He has not answered, and if He has I was too busy cleaning up some disaster to notice.

Everyday there is something that Patrick does to make me seriously wonder if there was some mix-up at the hospital...did he really come from ME!? Is this weird? I don't know if it is normal to feel that way about your own child? I love him the exact same way as I love my other kids, but he is the only one that makes me question if the right mom got the right babe.

For example: the other day Luke was minding his own business when out of nowhere PatPat walked up to him, bent down, and picked the baby's nose...and ATE what came out. ATE IT! How disgusting is that!?!? It's not enough for him to pick his own nose, he has to do it to his brother, too. All I know is that did not come from MY side of the family.

Another example of Patrick's odd personality: he truly believes he is Peter Pan. Truly. I am just waiting for the day to come we have to visit the ER (again) because he thinks he can fly. For now he is satisfied with jumping off the couch, but I know he will try a more ambitious (read: dangerous) location and it is just a matter of time. He carries a stick around and says it's his "dagger" and he is always rescuing Wendy.

He watches TV on the couch. Seems normal, right? Wrong! He watches it on the couch...upside down, standing on his head. And he comes out of his room every single day with his underwear on backwards as well as his pants. Every day.

Anyway...I guess there's no point except Patrick puzzles me. I hope I'm doing this parenting thing right...

Why?

2009-11-13T11:58:00.003-05:00

Wow, two posts in one morning-I'm on a roll! I pumped myself up with a pep-talk promising that I would try harder to record my children's funny (and maybe not-so-funny?) antics.

As I was finishing my last entry I looked at the clock and realized it was time to pick Sarah up from preschool so I was rushing and I told Patrick to get in the car. While I was strapping Luke into his carseat Patrick was on the other side looking at me. Being in a hurry I didn't realize what that look meant. When I went to his side to buckle him in, I figured it out: "I peed." WHY!? Why pee in the car!? Five seconds ago you were in the house! Three seconds ago you were outside surrounded by all the trees and shrubs a little boy could hope for. ARGGG!!!

I had no choice but to strip him and throw his clothes in the carport. He rode to Sarah's school naked. Now I have to go out there and clean pee from the carpet of my truck. Ew.
Oh yeah, and the main reason for this blog entry:
When I got to the school and signed Sarah out I realized I forgot to put shoes on.

Halloween.

2009-11-13T10:41:00.005-05:00

My kids were so excited for Halloween. I made the mistake of turning the TV the first of the month, which is when the genius programmers started airing Halloween-themed shows. For an entire month every single day I answered a hundred times, "No, Halloween isn't today..."

Finally, the wait was over for all of us. They donned their costumes at 7 am. I had back up costumes because it was a very good possibility that they would not make it through the day. I had a few things planned to make the wait for Trick-or-Treating go easier.

First, we went to Wal-Mart in the morning. I had Patrick in the seat of the buggy, Sarah in the back, and Luke in the sling. After browsing the store aimlessly (yes, if you are from a small town as well you will know this is how we kill time...at Wal-Mart!!) I heard Luke's rumbles and thought "uh-oh"...when babies in slings poop it is bad news cause the poop has no where to go but....everywhere. So you can imagine my delight when I felt the sling and it was dry. Being unprepared as usual I picked up a pack of diapers and a case of wipes (I needed them anyway) and parked the buggy in the aisle and headed into the bathroom with my brood. Okay, the poop was NOT contained. Luke's cute little black, glow-in-the-dark onesie was ruined-I took it off and threw it in the trash; it was not salvageable. Of course I had to line the nasty diaper changing station with about 33 paper towels and OF COURSE they were everywhere. In the process of taking his clothes off poo got...okay let's just get to the point: I had to give my naked, squirming baby a bath in the Wal-Mart sink. Trust me, it was that bad. Did I mention I also had Sarah and Patrick? Yes, well they stood in the corner of the bathroom like good children so I could concentrate on taking care of the huge, disgusting mess I had on my hands (and on everything else!). GOTCHA!! They did no such thing-they did however lock themselves in a stall and pull toilet paper out. Thank goodness I was preoccupied or I would have really freaked out about the germs. So after I had the situation back under control I lined the sling with paper towels (it wasn't too bad in there) and put Luke back into it with only a diaper. I tried to find another Halloween onesie, but they were sold out-Grrrr. I did find little shirts though so I settled for that and it turned out to be cuter anyways so it all worked out.

Next, we headed to Publix for food. That trip was surprisingly uneventful. We came home and after changing into play clothes we carved pumpkins. That took an hour. Carving a pumpkin with 3 kids is hard. I should have taken a picture, but it was so ugly I did not want to remember it. So back into costumes and back to Publix for Trick-or-Treating. We followed daddy home because he got off work as they were finishing getting their candy.

It was finally time to go Trick-or-Treating around our neighborhood and we rode in a hayride with our neighbors...well we were supposed to anyways. We got about halfway down the street and somehow Patrick fell out of the back. I had to bail out holding the baby so I could scrape my son off the pavement, and of course Sarah followed me because she does whatever everyone else is doing. So we unanimously decided that the hayride was not a good idea for us. They got lots of candy and had it for breakfast the next day because, well, they only get that twice a year (after Easter is the other time) and who cares!? :)

I wish I could write my memories immediately before I forget them. I'm going to work on that.........................
...And one more thing: I know my pictures aren't the greatest (haha) but I actually like that because it shows my kids' true personalities and not posing smiles, ya know?

Fun Times

2009-09-28T10:58:00.005-04:00

Yesterday started out so good I KNEW something was going to happen. Rick had to close last night so he didn't go in till 1. We hung out with him till he had to go to work, then we had lunch. After we cleaned up we dug out all the Halloween decorations and dusted them off and headed outside. Two hours later the front porch looked spooktacular; we even put a creepy face on the tree outside with a kit from the Dollar Store. I really get into decorating for holidays-it is so fun and a great way to have a nice time with all the kids. It gives moms a good reason to act like a kid.
I should take pictures....

We went inside to change clothes so we could go to Publix. We got back home very late Friday night from a week in Orlando and we needed to re-stock the house. The plan was for me to shop, then Rick would take his lunch break and we would already be there to eat with him.

We pulled into a spot-a really good spot!-and I was trying to get all the kids out before the car got too hot. Of course Sarah was jumping around acting like a fool and when I opened the door she fell out onto the pavement. Into a pile of freshly spat out chewing tobacco. Nice. My luck I would park and have my kid fall out into the pile of some nasty dude's dip...come on! If you're going to have such a dirty habit carry a cup so innocent children don't fall into it!!

Shopping went as smoothly as it ever goes with three kids in tow. When we got to the checkout I had the same sinful thought I have every single trip to the store: "I want to strangle whoever puts these displays of candy and gum right here..." Of course it was madness-kids flowing out of the cart (they always seem like more than two children when they pull stuff like this...), hands grabbing anything within reach.....So I managed to get Patrick into the cart pretty easily; he was sitting in the seat. Sarah was a little more difficult, but a bribe worked. I finished putting my stuff on the moving belt thing, and I realized something was missing: a cannister of oatmeal. Patrick was gnawing on it and right as I said, "Patrick I need tha...." he got the plastic seal off. You know how oatmeal containers close? With a stupid flimsy round peice of cardboard that barely fits into top? Yeah well that useless lid popped open sending oats flying everywhere, all up Patrick's nose, all over the floor, Sarah's hair, the candy racks....everywhere. I especially felt bad for the lady standing behind us in line; she was very understanding. Sarah thought it was great-she was giggling and digging through the dust in the back of the buggy. Patrick and I just stood there looking equally shocked. I don't think he expected it to open. Poor Luke was stuck in the sling and I was trying to flick oatmeal off of his head without getting any into his eyes.

The cashiers know us there so no one even said anything, she just looked at the bag boy, whom looked over at one of the coordinators, whom pointed at us to another employee, whom promptly got a broom and dustpan along with a clean up cart. I mean how sad is that!? No words exchanged? No explaination?? Just a point???

Seriously, how badly do we need food? Sigh....badly enough to go back next week.

2009-07-08T07:28:00.002-04:00

Okay I try hard not to complain about being tired. Afterall, it is a staple of motherhood, expected and temporary. But after Patrick's birth I learned the TRUE meaning of sleep-deprivation....I am not even going to go back down that memory lane. But trust me, it was very, very bad.

So compared to what I have experienced this isn't so terrible, but Waaaaahh!! I'm sleepy!!!
Last night we had all of the children in our bed with us by 12:30 am. We normally can make it till about 3, but oh well. So between the hours of 12 and 3 Sarah woke up twice for a drink, Patrick woke up sobbing uncontrollably for 20 minutes, and thankfully Luke somehow slept through it. At 3:30 Luke woke up to eat, which is unusual-he is my wonderful baby who sleeps all night, every night. :)

So at 3:45 I crawled my sorry behind back into bed and immediately feel a spreading wetness....I should have known all the drinks was going to add up to bad news for me. Patrick wet the bed. With all of us in it. So I spent 30 minutes fixing the bed, cleaning pee off of us, and changing clothes. At 4:45 Luke woke up yet again. And again at 6, this time up for good. Patrick carried on crying after the pee incident for a long time so being the unsympathetic mommy that I am I carried him out to the living room and dropped him on the couch alone. There he cried until the bed was cleaned up and I told him to stop crying or I was going to make him sleep on the couch. I didn't even feel bad-by this time I knew the night was a bust and sleep was a mere fantasy.

I have come to the conclusion that my husband is a big, unhelpful, well-rested weenie.
At some point during the pee and Luke's 2 nasty poop diapers (forgot to mention those...) I realized that he had conveniently vanished. I discovered him blissfully snoring away in Sarah's bed...alone and comfortable, and SLEEPING. Grrrrr.

2009-07-06T09:17:00.002-04:00

Yesterday morning I was in the bathroom getting fixed up and I prayed: God, I really want to make it to Mass today. Please help me out. I know I haven't done much for you lately, but please, please help me just this one Sunday. Maybe not the most "proper" prayer technique, but I meant it! I had the kids dressed and their bag of church-approved playthings to keep them quiet/occupied. I had 10 minutes to leave so I decided to top the baby off so he'd last the 30 minute drive. I was making last-minute deals with the kids ("If you are really good for mommy at church I'll get you a lollipop when we go to Publix!") and it didn't look good-they were so busy arguing with each other they weren't listening to my bribery tactics.

Right as I was starting to become discouraged and make up LAME EXCUSES not to go, the neighbors called and asked if Sarah could come play. Now I know that Sarah really needs to go to Mass with me, but baby steps, right? So I pulled her clothes off and slapped a swimsuit on her and sent her to the neighbors' house to swim. Bad mommy taking the easy way out? Nah, I choose to think of it as God easing me back into His graces.

So just me and the boys headed off to church and it was awesome!! Patrick sat on the floor and played with cars, swayed along to the singing, and even sat still on the seat for a few moments just listening. Praise God!!! Luke was wide awake, but quiet and happy. This was just amazing. Finally it came time for the Eucharist and YUP something went wrong. This is afterall MY life-something always happens. :)

It was super quiet as it should be when Luke grunted and let it rip. Of course people turned to look and all I could do was point at him with an expression of "That was NOT me" on my face. So he carried on as long as he could and Patrick felt the need to explain to everyone gleefully, "Baby POOP!"...as if they didn't know. So I put Luke up on my shoulder to carry him to the bathroom and-LOOKOUT-projectile puke all over me. Scrambling for the cloth diaper to clean us up with I noticed my skirt had a familiar, uncomfortable moist feel to it. YAY!! Poop leakage all up baby's back and on my legs!! WOOHOO!!

So I made the embarrassing walk to the bathroom-mind you we are still in the middle of the most sacred prayer there is-and booked it out of there. Yes, I should have stayed, I mean it's just baby stuff, but I have to be proud of what I DID accomplish, not what I haven't ya know?

So in conclusion I had a really monumentous day (that is the longest I've made it through Mass in a looong time) and I feel renewed. I am back!! WOOT!

Poop Fest 2009

2009-06-16T15:51:00.002-04:00

Okay this happened a while ago, but I am just now getting around to writing about it:
I met Rick up at his work so we could go to lunch at McDonald's. We sat down in the restaurant and I heard the tell-tale super loud noises coming from Luke's diaper so I waited a few minutes and walked to the car to change him. Figuring all was well since I waited the few minutes that it normally takes a newborn to finish pooping, I plopped him on the front seat and went to work.

Now being the seasoned mom that I am I already had the wipes lined up and the new diaper under the one about to be taken off. What could go wrong? Lots of things, my friends...lots of things...So there I was innocently unfastening the diaper when out of nowhere came this explosion-I mean I didn't have time to react at all, just BAM-poop squirting towards me at lightning pace. After 3 kids I had NO IDEA poop could travel at that rate of speed. None of it, and I mean NONE of it got on either of the diapers...it all landed directly on my (white) t-shirt.

So of course I had to laugh, I mean it was funny. I was literally coated from chest to naval in yellow mustard-y stuff. No problem, I'm no rookie. I know that you always need to have a change of clothes for yourself as well as the baby with you at all times in the car. So I checked the diaper bag-What!? No shirt!? I guess I should have checked the bag before the poop emergency. DOH!

I have to admit that if this had happened with my first I would have cried, then drove home so no one would ever know that I was covered in baby poop. If it had happened with the second I would have gone to Wal-Mart across the street and bought a new shirt so no one would ever know that I was covered in baby poop. Now that I have 3 I'm not sure if it is out of laziness or not having any shame left, but I just tucked a cloth diaper in my shirt collar like I was a 5 year old at a BBQ and walked into McDonald's to eat my double cheeseburger, not caring at all if anyone knew I was covered in baby poop.

Baby News!!

2009-04-14T09:11:00.003-04:00

We finally had our new baby-Luke...just like his daddy and late for everything, even his own birthday. He was due March 30th and showed up April 7th.

Here's my birth story:
My midwife wanted me to come in Wednesday, April 8th at 9 am to break my water and get labor started. Actually, labor had started, but I am slow. :) Fine by me-as much as I can get done without feeling pain is wonderful! Anyway on Monday night (April 6th) Patrick decided to wake up at 1 am and not go back to sleep until 5 am. I had a gut feeling that I would have the baby the following day-that's just how my life works! :)

So Tuesday I decided to clean the house one more time and get all the laundry done; basically make sure I was as prepared as I could be for the new arrival. That afternoon I called Rick and asked if he could come home a little early because I was very uncomfortable and tired. I was not in pain, but I was extremely irritable and just felt worn out. Rick was off work on Monday and Tuesday and volunteered to work at the store in Live Oak on Tuesday since they are short-handed and need help. I thought that was incredibly stupid seeing as I was already a week overdue, but that's what he wanted to do so.......He got a phone call to come home!

He got home an hour early and we continued our nightly routine (getting the kids fed, bathed, and ready for bed). At 7 pm I put Patrick in bed (he was tired from being up most of the night before), and at 7:15 I came out of the bedroom and told Rick I was getting into the bath to relieve my discomfort-I had a lot of pressure and mild-what I thought were more Braxton Hicks-contractions. As soon as I got into the bath I asked Rick to bring me my cell phone so I could call my midwife-all of a sudden I had a ton of painful pressure and hard contractions. By 7:30 I was out of the tub and trying to crawl around the house getting dressed and ready to leave for the hospital. I told Rick, "Unless you want me to have the baby in the tub we need to leave NOW!"

So we left and arrived at the hospital at 8:45. My midwife helped me undress and checked me; by that time I was in extreme pain and she told me to go ahead and push if I wanted to. Two pushes later Luke Andrew was born with his cord wrapped very, very tightly 3 times around his neck. It was too tight for the midwife to be able to unwrap it so she had to get him out as soon as possible. She yanked him hard and kept telling me to push harder. She plopped him on my chest and said, "Sorry, Dad" and cut the cord herself. A respiratory therapist took the baby away and went to work on him-he was completely blue and gray and struggling to make a noise.

I wasn't scared until then-I had no clue he was in trouble because my midwife is awesome and didn't panic or make me nervous at all. I didn't get to hold my little guy for an hour and a half-it was torture because he was right there, but I couldn't touch or see him. Finally they let me have him and he took to breastfeeding like he'd done it a hundred times. He was perfectly fine-the only thing wrong with him was the bruising from trying to strangle himself. We came home less than 24 hours after we got there and I am still totally in love and baby mooning.

I keep waiting for him to become more difficult like Patrick was, but he hasn't yet-he sleeps through the night and hardly ever cries. He's awesome!! Sarah and Patrick had very different reactions to Luke-she loves to hold him and help change his diaper and things like that; he is jealous and tries to push him off of our laps.

Welcome to the world Luke!

Tuesday, April 7th, 2009

9:17 pm

9 pounds, 21 1/2 inches

Dark hair and blue eyes like mommy! :)

Why I Hate Shopping

2009-04-14T08:53:00.004-04:00

Our last trip to Wal-Mart as a family of four:

We got there and put the kids into a cart together (first mistake). Then we went past the toy aisle (second mistake) and had to give them each something that we had no intention of buying to bribe them into being good.

When we made it to the food section I realized I meant to pick up some Gatorade for Rick so I told him I'd be RIGHT BACK (third mistake) and walked back about 7 aisles to get it. On the way back I could hear my kids hollering, laughing, fighting. I started walking faster cause I could tell it was about to get out of control unless mommy or daddy stopped whatever was going on.

They were at the opposite end of the frozen food aisle and as I turned that way two men passed by me and I overheard them say, "If those were my kids I'd beat their [butts]." Obviously I acted like I had no idea who those bad kids were and pretended to be debating between curly or straight fries. After the guys passed I jogged down the rest of the way to see what the commotion was over and there is my ~~useless~~ unobservant husband standing with the freezer door open, staring blankly into the cold while my daughter was screaming, "OH NO!! DAAAAAD-DEEE!!!", and my son was sitting with a tub of butter between his legs, plastic seal pulled back, scooping it out and eating it by the handful. Ummm, HELLO? I can't even go get a forgotten item without chaos ensuing? The funniest part is Rick insists on tagging along to "help" me. HAHAHA.

2009-01-21T14:38:00.003-05:00

Things You Never Thought You'd Have To Say:

~Don't put the cat in the toilet/oven/hot tub.

~Don't eat that if it came out of the trash can.

~The closet rod is for hanging clothes, not gymnastics.

~Thank you for not pooping on the floor.

~It's 30 degrees outside; you're not wearing a swimsuit.

~All I want is 5 minutes of quiet! (Followed 15 minutes later by:)

~WHY is it so quiet in here!? (They were putting make up on each other.)

~You can't play in the fireplace.

~If you flush one more toy down the toilet I'm throwing them all away.

~I'm glad that you're working together, but someone is going to get hurt. (In regards to scaling the sides of the bunkbeds with yarn. Sarah volunteered to hold the yarn and watch unsuspecting Patrick plummet to the ground from the top. These are not average bunkbeds-they are HUGE.)

~How does the remote keep winding up in the bathtub?

~Why are you naked AGAIN?

This was just today. It's 3 in the afternoon. I may be adding to this list.................

Baby Update

2009-01-09T10:59:00.008-05:00

On Tuesday I had a 4D ultrasound because I have never had one before and I wanted the experience. Rick was not too excited because as he put it, "You're going to see him in a couple of months-why do we need to spend all this money now?" It was expensive, and even though money is tight for us just like it is for everyone else, we have justified spending money before on other things that I have thought were unnecessary so why can't I have something?

Anyway I loved it, and I even got Rick to admit it was (mostly) worth the money. Not so much seeing what our baby looks like (after all, we WILL be seeing him in 11 weeks!), but seeing what he's up to in there, the expressions that he makes, you know-basically what life is like for him in the womb. He was moving all around, giving the tech quite a hard time getting good shots, and we found out he was breech at that moment-I never would have figured that out since he is so very active. He feels like he's all over the place, and I can't ever tell which position he's in. We got to see him open his eyes (looks more like a slit versus wide open like out-of-the-womb eyes), take a drink of yummy amniotic fluid, and yawn. Of course I have to share some of the photos cause he is just too cute to keep all to myself: In this first one (on the right) he has his arm/hand up the side of his face; he's kind of resting on it. His foot is sticking up touching his nose. (I couldn't do that if my very life depended on it!)

His profile:

A yawn (must be tired from being up flip-flopping ALL NIGHT LONG...)

His momma's little nose and a perfect hand:

So now when my guy is moving around and giving me heartburn, or when I see the horrid varicose vein on my leg, or when I'm up every hour to pee I can picture him in there and it helps me not to care so much about the discomforts. Not that I wasn't excited/happy before, but feeling like I know him so much more because I can picture him in there is really cool! I always secretly thought women who paid $$ to have these ultrasounds were kind of lame, but now I totally get it!! It was an amazing experience!

The tech said she was surprised how active he stayed the entire time-he never settled down, and despite all the movement we never got a full front view of his face. At least there's still some element of surprise for when he's born. He also hid the frank and beans, but we are 100% sure he's a he so that's okay.

Of course we had big brother and sister there with us. Yeah, that was fun. I thought at least Sarah would be interested in seeing what was going on inside my tummy, but she really didn't care, or didn't understand, or both. Instead she was interested in jumping from the bed onto the adjacent couch to the floor. Patrick was pretty good until he started crying and trying to escape the room. Poor Rick had to leave and hang out in the car for the rest of the session, but at least I got a DVD recording so he watched it at home while I tried to remember everything the tech described (hey some of those body parts look a lot a like!).

I will be 29 weeks on Monday which means I am running out of time to get everything done. You'd think with having kiddos already there wouldn't be too much to prepare, but really there is. I still don't have Patrick in his new room-he doesn't even have any furniture, just the new carpet, blinds, and fresh paint. Also I was hoping to get all my pictures in albums to make room in our closets. I am nesting for the first time in my life (never had that with the other two) and I do not like it! It would be different if I could actually get things accomplished, but what happens is I get distracted while doing a normal, everyday chore, such as vacuuming. Okay so I'm vacuuming and I'll notice the baseboards are filthy. So I bust out the Magic Eraser and start cleaning the baseboards. Then while I'm scrubbing those the grime on the walls becomes apparent so I have to clean them. This will take hours so I'll set the kids up with a tea party or with playdough or something to keep them busy which, of course, leads to another huge mess that I then have to clean. My point is: nesting is BAD because in order to accomplish the insane cleaning I neglect the normal, day-to-day things that HAVE to be done, which leaves the house looking horrible and ultimately leads to way more work. So I have all these ideas in my head of things I want to tackle (the utility room, the kitchen cabinets, the closets), but the reality of life with two very active young children prevents me from being able to do any of it. IT IS LITERALLY DRIVING ME NUTS. I can't stand the filth, but I can't get it cleaned either. AAAGGHHHHH!!!!

BAD Weekend

2008-11-24T14:19:00.010-05:00

Sigh. I don't even know where to start...I guess the beginning!!

I am not yet to the point that enough time has gone by that I can make this humorous. I usually try to see the funny side to keep my sanity and keep things in perspective, but I honestly can't do that right now.

On Saturday I was putting dinner in the oven at 3 pm (it was pork roast so it had to go in early). I was on the phone with my best friend, and after this...incident...happened I checked my phone and it was seriously less than 5 minutes. Okay after I put dinner in there were a few dishes that needed to go in the dishwasher so I did that. I realized that I could hear faded shrieks of pleasure from the kids and I immediately knew something was terribly, horribly wrong. So phone still at my ear I went to investigate. We have a large family room that we are in the process of turning into Patrick's room so the new baby can have the nursery. There are french doors that close it off from the living room where we spend our time. The doors were closed and I opened them to find Sarah throwing fistfuls of paint onto Patrick's head. I panicked for a moment-frozen in a state of "What should my next move be?" shock.

Let me explain-this was not a little bit of Crayola finger paint. No, no...it was a can of wall paint-the kind that is virtually IMPOSSIBLE to remove from carpet. The kind that is permanent, forever. We bought 3 cans (it's a BIG room) and had them sitting on the desk. The room is empty except the desk and a recliner. The kids climbed on the desk and pushed the can of paint onto the floor. Sarah told me she then jumped on it (from the desk), but my hubby believes-and who am I to correct him?-that it busted open when it hit the floor. So within 3-4 minutes a can of paint is covering the center of the room, splatter marks are all the way to each wall-to the door, on the recliner. The kids had it in their hair, ears, up their noses, under finger & toenails...everywhere. These pictures do NOT do the mess justice. The camera didn't pick up the splatters and the sheer fact that it's the ENTIRE can of paint!! When I took the photos I was thinking, "If I ever get this cleaned up at all I will have proof that it was much worse and Rick won't kill me". I even had to use Magic Eraser on the tub to get all the residue out.

My first move was throw the kids in the tub cause obviously the paint would have just gotten on even more parts of the house with them running around like that. So I had no choice but leave the paint soaking in the carpet while I cleaned up those children. I am not sure if I was doing something wrong, but I scrubbed those kids until they cried that I was hurting them and they still had paint on their scalps and hair. After they were (for the most part) clean I put them on the couch in front of the TV and Googled how to get a can of paint out of carpet. The results did NOT look good for me. Not one website said it would come completely out, but a few promised it would not be too noticeable. I will spare you all the details, but after more than 2 1/2 hours of cleaning (I called my best guy friend, who is also my neighbor, and he brought a second shop vac and was in there helping me) the only difference was that we salvaged some of the paint.

My kids have made a lot of messes, but nothing has come close to this. The damages add up to about $2,000. not to mention the can of paint cost about $50.

THEN...On Sunday I was cleaning Sarah's room. I was in there for a while, but not that long. I came out and saw this:

Don't be alarmed: No one was shot. I was looking for the phone to call 911 until Sarah handed me the (EMPTY) Hershey's strawberry syrup container. Patrick had gotten into the refrigerator and dumped out the bottle. THANK YOU GOD, most of it was on tile, but there was a bit on the carpet. Have I mentioned yet that we had the floors professionally steam cleaned on Wednesday?? There's another hundred bucks wasted.

FINALLY today (Monday) Patrick woke up from a very, very restless night at 5:40. At 5:50 I was yelling for Rick and we were frantically pulling warm clothes on and getting Sarah dressed. Off to the ER!! My little guy was watching TV so intently he fell off the side of the couch onto the brick fireplace. His head split open and blood was everywhere, carpet not excluded. (Rick is still refusing to tile the entire house...) I was soooo upset-we arrived at the ER at Lake Shore (I absolutely HATE that hospital, which is why I travel an hour to Gainesville to have my babies) around 6:15. At 7:45, my son's head still open and bleeding, Rick grabbed us all up and we walked out. We went to the other facility across town and an hour and 10 minutes later my baby boy had 6 stitches in his forehead. They made me leave so Sarah wouldn't be terrified. It took 30 minutes to sew him up and they had him strapped to a hard board with velcro. I was crying right along with him. The doctor said to expect him to literally pass out afterwards from the trauma, and he did. I held him in my arms on the way home and he slept for an hour and a half in my bed. If you know my Patrick--this NEVER happens. So my lil man had his fist major accident. :( The doctor said, "It's a boy thing-you'll be here again"...Like that's supposed to make me feel better!? The stitches look much, much better than the wound did-it was sooo deep. Umm, I won't describe it I guess, but take my word for it-it was nasty. He has to go back after Thanksgiving to have them out, and he's being referred to a plastic surgeon cause there's no way it will heal up nicely. Anyway here's my baby Frankenstein:

I just don't understand what I am doing wrong? I know kids get into trouble and mess things up...But c'mon-from reading this I must sound like a complete degenerate, unfit mother! I PROMISE I wake up in the morning, every morning, planning that today will be different...and it never is! I spend time with them, we play, we go to the park, we have playdates and lots of friends. What is going on here!? I could understand if I left them alone so I could get my nails done, or if I was doing drugs or something, but NO-I make dinner and clean the house.....Grrrr. Sorry for the rant-I'm tired.

Tomorrow will be different! Right?

~Bathroom Fun~

2008-11-06T14:04:00.006-05:00

I am not sure why, but the bathroom seems to be the single most attractive room in the house to my kiddos. It has progressed from just wanting to be at my feet while I was in there to locking themselves in that room for fun. Almost everyday I find myself banging on the door issuing ultimatums to get them out. Normally I would be thankful for the few minutes of peace, but here are a couple of reasons why it's just not worth it anymore:
The bath foam somehow exploded and it was shooting from the top of the canister all over everything. I have tried to do this myself to see exactly what went wrong, and I could not get the same results. Leave it to Sarah & Patrick to figure it out. If only they could use their evil genius to do good?

Another prime example of why the bathroom is off limits:

I admit this was mostly my fault; I selfishly walked outside to switch over the laundry and stayed out there for extra minutes just to be alone. When I came back inside I noticed it was too quiet, but it took me longer than normal to investigate. My favorite part of this clean-up was the toothpaste crammed in the grout on the floor. I'm not sure how it got there since he was on the counter, but it did.

My suggestion for getting a toothpaste/lotion combo out of your grout is soak it with water and use an old toothbrush to lift it out. Trust me: any paper product will not work!! You'll be amazed how clean the floor looks after scrubbing it-I was tempted to go ahead and do the rest of the floor, but I decided against it so we now have a section that is noticeably clean and new-looking.

Also, PatPat smelled minty-fresh for hours and hours after this incident so all was not lost. :)

After being a mom of 2 for over 2 whole years now I finally figured out how to go to the bathroom without having the kids tear up everything while I helplessly sit there. My bottom drawer is filled with "forbidden" items that I really don't care if they play with at all (empty travel-sized shampoos, Q-tips, etc). They get to think they're getting away with something, and I get to well, you know.

Baby

2008-11-02T15:04:00.007-05:00

Okay I have had MANY MANY occasions that I think, "Hey don't get upset-blog about it!!", but I have been neglecting my poor blog. I also realized that I have barely mentioned my new little one coming, which is so funny because with the first 2 I thought about the fact that I was pregnant all the time...now it's just, I don't know, something that I've gotten used to I guess.
So I am going to give my belly buddy some attention: this post is all about baby!!

I am nearly halfway through and most mommies would be very excited, but to be quite honest I am very nervous. I don't know what I was thinking-I can barely handle Sarah & Patrick, now I am going to be outnumbered! I could stay pregnant for 2 years and be just fine-I giggle a little on the inside when I hear a first (or even a second now that I'm an old pro ::wink::) time mom complain about the discomforts of pregnancy....Just wait until the baby is here, HAHAHAHA. That's when the real work begins, especially when they are not too far apart in age. When I have this one Sarah will be 4 1/2 that month, Patrick will be almost 2 1/2...3 under 5. I'm tired just thinking of it.

But I digress-now for the fun stuff:

This critter is so cute-he has a cycle of being awake and asleep already, and he's very predictable:wakes up around 4 or 5 am, then again around 9 am. Mostly quiet with some bursts of playing during the day, and a long stretch of being awake from about 8-9:30 pm. I love it!! Yes, I have been referring to bean as "he": at my first appointment with the midwife she couldn't find the heartbeat so she sent me for an ultrasound to make sure everything was okay, plus we needed to check the dates. So here's baby's first photo at 12 wks (remember 12 wks means 10 wks gestation):

***This is not what my blog is about, but I just feel compelled to ask how can some people feel it's okay to slaughter such a beautiful, innocent creation of God? He is not a ball of cells-he's a fully developed human child. A little boy! Makes me sick to my stomach to think about it. :( ***

I suffered horrible morning sickness, but I am sooo happy to report that it is almost completely gone! WOOHOO!! Other than that everything has been just peachy...can't poop, headaches, heartburn, moodswings. In return I get slobbery kisses on my belly from the big sister and brother and a free pass to eat all the seconds I want ~~and huge boobs~~.

I have another ultrasound scheduled a week from Thursday. I will have more photos then!

What Happens When Moms Get Sick...

2008-09-22T09:06:00.003-04:00

I have a horrible sinus infection and unrelenting morning sickness. I'm no wimp-I can handle one *OR* the other, but I feel (am I right?) that having to deal with both is just plain cruel!! At my midwife appointment last week I was shocked to see that I've lost 6 pounds...I can't wait until the nausea is gone!!

Okay here's what happens (in our house) when mommy is sick:

KIDS:

wake up at normal (or even earlier) time.
feel super--appear to have more energy than usual.
demand very complicated breakfast; refuse to eat it. Ask for more food 1/2 hour later.
decide to jump on couch (which I'm laying on, dying), build forts, drag every piece of clothing out of their dressers/closets, run outside, fall down in the mud, run back inside, slip on the tile, smear their hands on the walls and furniture, and get into a big fight.....all before 9 am.
Have huge appetite-any other day I'd have to beg them to eat- and want to eat every hour. (Did I mention the morning sickness and the mere mention of food sending me running for the toilet, garbage can, or sink??)
Refuse to nap. Color on refrigerator with sidewalk chalk instead.
Spend rest of the day making messes and fighting, and of course, eating.
Get a bath and fall peacefully asleep. Alternately wake up at all hours throughout the night because they can sense their mother desperately needs to rest.

Mom:

Wake up. Feel terrible.
Make it to the couch.
Watch helplessly as children wreak havoc on home.
Try to get up to stop the madness, sinus pressure making head implode so sit back down.
Decide enough is enough so take medicine.
Get stoned off of sadistic, mind-altering Tylenol sinus liquid. Feel eyelids being pulled shut by said medication...Pass out on couch amongst chaos.
Wake up, unaware of surroundings, and groggy from heinous cold meds.
Feel incredibly guilty that children are left to their own devices; really want to get up and do something with them. Again attempt to get up and be productive, stumble around pathetically, sit back down. Wimper.
Spend a lot of time between threatening kids with harm to be quiet and apologizing for being such an un-fun mommy.
Give up and call daddy at work. Beg him to come home.
Wait an hour. Call again. This time break out heavy artillery and use tears.

Dad:

Get phone call at work. Hear commotion in background. Decide work is more fun/less work. Stay there.
Get another, more urgent call. Wife crying--can't take it. Come home.
Walk in door and want to walk back out.
Take over kid-duty so wife can rest. Bother wife repeatedly for stupid stuff like, "Where's the remote?" and "What should I feed them?". Get locked out of room; try to find keys to get in, but even in sickness wife is smarter and already hid keys.
Sit on couch and watch TV while kids bang on bedroom door.

I do have to admit that after I came out of my room and ~~made him feel guilty~~ asked hubby nicely to take the kids outside he did let me sleep for an hour. When I woke up I still felt terrible, and I found the kids sitting in the bathroom sink (yes, BOTH of them on one sink!!). They had bubbles everywhere and the water was overflowed all over the counter, onto the floor, all the way to the carpet outside of the bathroom! I was too sick to get mad-I figured the floor needed to be mopped anyway. When I asked Sarah what they were doing she said, "Scrubbing hands!". Oh, okay. Of course I went looking for Rick after the mess was cleaned up and guess where he was-ON THE PHONE!! GRRRR!!!! MEN.

Anyway I am still sick, but today I don't have the horrendous morning sickness, even managed to eat a bowl of cereal. And I have to say that Rick really stepped up and cooked dinner last night, and even gave them a bath so I could shower by myself!! Still feeling guilty for not interacting more with the kids, but I know that once I feel better we'll do something really fun to make up for it. :)

~10 Signs You're a Mom~

2008-09-03T09:09:00.004-04:00

10. You don't get annoyed by annoying toys. The noise just doesn't phase you. You can block anything out!!

9. You thoroughly enjoy and truly appreciate the gift of a complete shower (washing hair AND shaving--!!).

8. You know all the words to all the theme songs for shows such as SpongeBob, The Wiggles, and Curious George. Also, you are secretly frightened and/or creeped out by characters such as The Doodlebops, but you allow the children to watch because, well, the laundry has to get done sometime.

7. You talk about poop a lot.

6. It never fails that if you have an important call to make/receive (okay, scratch that-if you have ANY calls) that is the exact time the kids will morph into hungry, screaming creatures who cling to your leg while hollering like they're on fire. If you go outside for peace and quiet they will either lock you out or follow you. You can't win...make calls during naptime.

5. It is perfectly normal to forget what you were talking about halfway through a sentence. It may never come back to you. Ever.

4. Anytime you're out in public and one of the kids starts getting tired of running errands you'll do anything to keep them happy long enough to finish the task at hand. For example: Bursting into song at the supermarket or doing a jig at the bank...and not caring about the funny looks strangers give you.

3. Bribes, threats, begging...ALL acceptable means of getting children to behave.

2. You know that people who don't have kids know everything about child-rearing and you listen patiently to their "advice" and "wisdom" while your eyes glaze over. Then forget everything they said as soon as they're out of sight. Go back to tending to your out-of-control heathens.

And the top sign you're a mommy is:

1. Every once in a while you give your husband The Look, run into the bathroom where you have a stash of magazines and chocolate hidden, and enjoy your "free time"...when hubby comes to the door after 20 minutes to see if you're okay, you moan and say, "Ill be out soon..." That'll get you 10 more minutes.

Don't worry--any momma will agree that it's all worth it.........after they're tucked sound asleep in bed for the night, of course. ;)

See...They Can Be Sweet!!

2008-08-12T09:47:00.004-04:00

Awww...the other day Sarah finaly noticed my bloated belly. I told her that there was a new little brother or a little sister in there for her, and I asked her which one she'd rather have.

She paused for a moment, looked at Patrick, looked at my belly, looked back at Patrick...and in a shrill, concerned voice cried: "No!! Keep PatPat!!"

HAHA--I guess I should have explained that it's not a new sibling, but an additional one.

Anytime PatPat tries to climb on me or hit me too hard in the stomach Sarah grabs his arm and says, "No hit tum-tum...B-A-B-Y!" It's so cute!

My Husband Wants to Know What I Do All Day

2008-08-08T14:27:00.005-04:00

I can't be the only one who feels like I work so hard all day long and get nothing done?! Seriously, I feel like all I do is cook, clean, and do laundry. And yet we never have a perfect meal, the house is always a wreck, and the piles of clothes don't seem to shrink.

Today I let Sarah's 6 year old friend (our neighbor's granddaughter) come to play. She walked over at 9 am and left about 2 pm. I sent Sarah with her. I think I am a pretty fun, easy-going mom: I let them play Princess with Sarah's costumes, they put on make-up (the play stuff, and they washed it off), we had a tea party, they played in the hot tub.

Anyway, after all that "fun" I was tired and ready for a break. So I thought by having Sarah go to someone else's house for a while I'd get a little peace. Well, this wouldn't be my blog if that were the case!

Patrick told me that he pooped so I went back to his room to get some wipes and a diaper. The wipe warmer was empty so I opened a refill and put some water on them to keep them moist, which took all of 1 minute. That was all the time he needed to open the cupboard in the kitchen, bite open the seal on a spare can of coffee, and cover himself and the floor in grounds:

Now I know it doesn't look like much, but believe me it took quite some time to vacuum up. I had to stick PatPat in the sink and spray him down. Coffee grounds stick to small children and are very hard to scrub completely off. Meanwhile, I forgot all about the poop.

I should mention that the smell of coffee is a major morning sickness trigger for me. That's right, folks: morning sickness. Next Spring I am bringing another ~~menace into society~~ beautiful life into the world!!!

So cleaning the grounds went something like this: clean for a minute, puke for 3 minutes, clean for another minute, puke for 3 more minutes. It took a while-kind of a one step forward, two steps back routine.

So I finished cleaning the mess (if I walk in my kitchen I still feel tiny little particles dig into my feet no matter how many times I've rinsed the floor) and finally remembered the poop (I don't need to go into detail about what that substance is like when left in a diaper too long....). I went into the bathroom to grab a towel to dry everything (baby, floor, myself) and found our cat in the bath tub, eating a roll of toilet paper. The girls had snuck the cat into the bathroom to play and apparently either forgot about her or decided it would be a good idea to leave her in there unattended. So if the tub clogs up tonight I'm playing dumb.

Yup, as soon as all the chaos was under control...."Riiing Riiiing". My butt had not even a chance to warm the couch. :(

Sarah

2008-04-17T10:41:00.009-04:00

The other morning I woke up with Patrick at our usual time of 4 am and I went into the kitchen to get the coffee going and found this:
At some point during the (very) few hours between me going to sleep the previous night and waking at 4 am Sarah opened the dishwasher, stood on the door, reached the counter, and helped herself to a buffet of cupcake icing. Then apparently went back to bed.

So when she got up I asked her why she ate the icing off the cupcakes in the middle of the night instead of waking me for a snack, and she replied, "YUM YUM!". Oh.

So the rest of the day progressed with the typical cycle of ups and downs and after Rick came home from work I foolishly thought I could get dinner ready while he occupied the kids. At one point he yelled for me to come help him and said, "Sarah's behind the couch with the scissors". So I ~~barked~~ asked her calmly to please hand me the scissors, which she surprisingly did very willingly. She had that trouble smile on her face so I assumed that she did some costly damage to the (new) couch. Upon a quick visual inspection I saw the couch was just fine and she must have had that smile because I caught her with only seconds to spare. That incident was quickly forgotten.

Throughout our meal I was busy not eating, cleaning stray bits of food, wiping faces, refilling cups of milk, etc. and I kept thinking, Why does Sarah look different? It nagged at me a bit, but with the routine chaos I just didn't think about it long enough at one time to come to any conclusion.

After baths I was dressing the kids in their jammies and putting Sarah's hair into a ponytail so it doesn't turn into a scary ball of knots the next morning. That was the moment it dawned on me:

Sarah cut her hair. She hid behind the couch and cut her own hair. She hid behind the couch and cut her own hair and I didn't even notice.

Thankfully, with a little creative use of barrettes and the side-swept bangs trend (she didn't have bangs before), it doesn't look too bad. And I'm happy to report that all of the scissors are now on top of the refrigerator, which actually I'm not sure is a good idea since I'm sure she'll just come up with a way to climb on top of there to get them. Sarah doesn't let little things like refrigerators get in the way of what she wants.

Before everyone goes thinking I'm a horrible parent that keeps scissors accessible for toddlers to get a hold of and cut things, Sarah has been using scissors for a year now. She has never (up till now, of course) cut anything besides approved scrap papers, and she normally sits at the table.

So after I had Patrick tucked in asleep in his crib I went to get Sarah so we could read a story before she went to sleep. I came around the corner and saw the fridge door opened and a pair of little feet aglow in the light. I crept up and peeked around the door and there is Sarah-with the pancake syrup turned upside down and oozing into her mouth! What is with this girl!? I have never met anyone with such a horrible sweet tooth! I am seriously considering banning all junk food from our house. If all we keep here is that cereal that looks/tastes/smells like cat food (you know-that fiber stuff) and dried fruit I am sure I can fix this rummaging-through-the-food-in-the-wee-hours habit that she's got.

The Difference Between Girls and Boys

2008-03-06T12:25:00.003-05:00

I was opening the back patio door to take the kids outside to play and I almost stepped on something yucky. I am not unaware that a disturbing number of my blog entries are about (or at least include) poop. This is an exception. For once my story has nothing to do with bodily functions. YAY! Nope, today I almost crunched a beetle on the steps. A huge, ugly, nasty beetle. Ew, it bothers me to even think of him. You don't understand. Think of a normal-sized beetle and then picture feeding it steroids. Then multiply that by 3. That's the kind of creature we were dealing with. Beetlesaurus...Godzillabeetle.

The difference between (my) boys and girls is: Sarah caught a glimpse of this intimidating insect and bolted across the yard, screaming like she was on fire. Patrick on the other hand, got very wide-eyed and slowly declared in awe, "NEEEEEAT!" He bent over, his little baby face nearly touching the bug, and studied the beautiful greens and blues on its shell. He watched it crawl around aimlessly and ultimately tumble down the step onto the grass. He followed behind it, creeping so slowly to see where it would go next. Then he tried to eat it. Sarah and I were huddled together on top of their plastic picnic table watching in horror. It was like slow-motion: NOOOOOO!!! Fortunately I got to him in time to avoid catastrophe. Unfortunately I had to make physical contact with the bug.

After much hand washing the kids are watching Tom & Jerry. I've had enough outdoors for today.

Gremlin

2008-03-02T07:07:00.008-05:00

When I woke up this morning (actually, when Patrick forced me out of my bed a little before 4) I went to turn on the coffee pot and noticed the Winnie the Pooh step stool that Sarah uses to go potty. It was on the floor in the kitchen. I didn't really think anything of it because, well, it was not even 4 am and my brain wasn't turned on yet. Then I went to sit on the couch while balancing Patrick in one arm and hot coffee in the other.

I took note of several pieces of candy and miscellaneous wrappers strewn on the couch, but again, I brushed it off. It is not uncommon for Rick to snack and watch TV after the rest of us have gone to sleep. I was slightly perturbed because I have ~~yelled at him~~ asked him nicely before about leaving candy laying around where the kids can see it and want it.

Hours later, when Rick (finally) got out of bed I mentioned the candy to him, and he said, "Oh yeah. When I got up around 1 o'clock to use the bathroom I heard noises in the kitchen and came out and saw Sarah licking the icing off the cake." (see picture below now)

I am bothered by this. How often does this happen? Rick caught her and didn't do anything? When I questioned him on what he did about it he said, "Well she wanted a drink so I got her one." Okay, not quite the reaction I think is best to correct this behavior. I have been threatening to ban sweets from the house for many months now, but I have never taken action because I must admit I have the sweetest tooth in this joint and sticking to such a harsh rule is basically impossible. I really am going to start putting my stash up high in a locked box where it's safe though.

Ew--Part II

2008-02-23T17:59:00.003-05:00

I really hope all kids are this disgusting and it's not just mine:

Earlier this evening I was sitting outside with the kids while they were playing in the baby pool. We put bubble bath in it so they were really having a blast. I even fill it up with warm tap water from the kitchen so they don't have to play in freezing water from the hose. See? That should be enough to keep them entertained for at least a few minutes, right?

I had to run inside for literally 2 minutes (just so you know, we have a big, tall, secure fence around our yard so it's not like the kids are free to roam around the neighborhood or anything), and as I was walking back towards the door I noticed that Sarah was on the patio playing. So I started scanning for Patrick and I saw him calmly approaching the patio. Oh good; everything's fine.

About 5 minutes later we were all inside and I was drying them off and I noticed Patrick had mud smeared all over his upper thigh. I was wiping it away with my bare hand when it dawned on me that I was wiping poop. Obviously I immediately tossed him onto the bath and scrubbed him down. I was about to pluck him out when I realized that he still stunk! It was then that I saw a leaf glued to his hair with...yup...you guessed it...Poop.

During the time that I was finishing bathing Patrick I heard the front door open. The front door opening is cause for concern as there is no fencing and many lead-footed teenagers who think they can drive better than they actually can. So I hurriedly dried PatPat and ran to the window to determine the quickest route to grab Sarah. OH NO!! Where is she!? I was not quite to the panic stage, but getting close when I suddenly spotted a little pink-clothed body laying perfectly still in a pile of leaves. She is in a phase right now and she plays dead a lot (?). By the way it has rained here for the past 3 days and those leaves were not at their freshest. Yuck! Is it just my kids or is this kind of stuff normal??

Wanna See What Happens...

2008-02-20T09:12:00.013-05:00

...when I sit down for 10 minutes to nurse? This is my little girl, Sarah. She looks very innocent and harmless in this photo, right? The other night she was having a tea party by herself and she went into the bathroom after I sat down to nurse Patrick. I heard the water running and didn't think much of it; I figured she was rinsing her teacups or making new "tea". This is quite common and normally not cause for alarm. The only mess she usually makes is water on the floor and around the sink which is no big deal.

Not this time. When I became suspicious and went to investigate this is what I found:

Yeah, it's shaving cream. A lot of it. As in Rick's ENTIRE supply. And this used to be a candle:

And here's what's left of the cream and our toothpaste:

Then while I was cleaning this mess up Sarah went into the kitchen, opened the dishwasher, climbed up on the counter, and rummaged through the cabinets until she came across my supply of emergency chocolate. Hey, at least she was generous enough to share with her brother!:

If you are very observant you may have noticed that in the pictures the kids are in their jammies. So that means they had already had baths, and I was ready to put them in bed. Needless to say, bedtime was a bit delayed that night...

I have a cleaning suggestion if you ever find yourself with a bathroom covered in a shaving cream-toothpaste blend: Don't spray it with Windex (or whatever cleaning spray you use) until you have wiped as much excess off with paper towels as possible. The Windex just makes it worse somehow. And just toss the candle. It's easier to replace it than trying to scrape cream and paste out of it and save the wick.

2008-02-14T07:20:00.003-05:00

Yesterday Rick came home from work sick so I banished him to the bedroom in an attempt to keep the sicky germs isolated. Men are sooooo funny when they're sick. When the mom is sick nobody cares--dinner still needs to be cooked, the laundry doesn't quit piling up, and kids certainly don't behave. When the dad's sick? Whole different story-he has a little cold and you'd think he's on his deathbed. The pitiful way he moans and calls for drinks and needs so much TLC. I know I am mean for laughing at his misery, but I seriously can't help it. It's my passive-aggressive way of thinking how unfair it is. I would love to be sick if it meant he would take over the household and childcare duties and I could sleep in bed for hours uninterrupted!

Here's my main reason for writing: while Rick was watching TV I had the kids in the kitchen ~~running amok~~ helping me fix something to eat. Sarah and I were chatting about babies and I was asking her if she remembered when Patrick was "in my belly". She didn't, but she was very interested in the concept of a baby growing inside of a belly. She had a very confused look on her face and rubbed my admittedly slightly pooching belly and asked, "baby?". I should have been offended, but I wasn't-I just said, "No, there's no baby in there yet." She paused contemplatively and looked at me. A look of understanding came upon her face and then she stretched her arm behind me and patted my very spacious butt and asked again, "Baby?". Okay, that time I was offended.

Ew.

2008-02-05T18:01:00.000-05:00

I cleaned out my car the other day because it was starting to smell funny and I was losing the kids in there. No, really. They came up with a new game: they'd get in the very back seat (we have a Yukon XL) and lay on the floor very still and see how long it took me to find them. I knew it was time to clean it when we had to go to the car every morning to find clothing to wear.

It was ridiculous-I've seen my car messy before, but nothing like this. I actually felt shame. It honestly didn't seem like it had been that long since I'd cleaned it out? If there had been some massive natural disaster I could have easily fled the house and we could have survived for a couple of months with no problem. You name it, I had it in that vehicle. See for yourself:

(Notice the mouthwash...cause you never know when you'll need minty-fresh breath!)

And here's a bunch of clothes on the other side:That was just the stuff I had to bring in. There were two garbage bags full of trash, too. I know-yuck! I found what I think was a McDonald's chicken nugget from long ago, a sippy cup that I wrote off as lost, about $15 in change, a Hershey's bar that looked alarmingly a little too much like poop smashed in the floorboards, among other things.

So after 4 hours of cleaning you'd think I would have learned right? Wrong. Don't look in my car right now...it's getting scary again. What is it with the car? Oops...dinner's burning...

Bed Time? (Ha!)

2008-01-30T07:38:00.000-05:00

I am pretty sure it’s time that I re-evaluate our bed time routine. It’s just not giving us the desired results like it used to. Here’s a synopsis if our current regime:

5:30 pm: We tidy up the house a little so Daddy doesn’t see what it really looks like all day long while he’s at work. We make it look like it’s just messy, as opposed to a nuclear test-site. Then we start getting ingredients ready to prepare dinner. I usually open the back door so the kids can play on the patio where I can still see them, but they’re not underfoot. That lasts about 15 minutes and then they come back inside to be entertained so whatever I have not accomplished for dinner has to wait until Rick gets home. When he finally arrives home from work (generally a half-hour later than when he says he will) the kids pounce on him and I sneak away to finish what I have left in the kitchen.

7 pm: When dinner is ready we all sit at the table and we listen to Sarah say the blessing. Her version of the blessing goes something like: “Gah buoy food…eat…loyve ou. Dant ou moych. Amen.” I think it’s supposed to mean: “God bless our food, we love you, thank you very much. Amen.” I don’t care if it’s not “correct”, the point is that she is learning to say grace and that we eat together as a family. Jesus knows what she’s trying to say (um, I hope he does anyway haha) and that’s all I care about. We tried having Rick say the blessing since he’s the man of the house, but that wasn’t working out because Sarah would look so sweet with her petite hands clasped reverently in front of her and her delicate eyelids fluttered closed. Then I would open my eyes to peek at her halfway through, and she’d be sneaking mouthfuls of food off of her plate as if she were a contestant at a pie-eating contest with her hands still clasped reverently. So when she’s the one who says the prayer she doesn’t “cheat”. By the time I am able to take a few bites of warm food the kids are finished eating so I have to find a way to keep them involved so Rick and I can finish eating. Well, so Rick can finish eating. I usually wind up eating cold scraps with my fingers while I’m clearing the dishes. Ah, motherhood.

8 pm: After I clean up the mess (how they can make such a monstrous mess and so little food is ingested I’ll never understand), I strip the kids and lay out jammies and, well, for the complete “Preparing for Bathtime Routine” read the third paragraph of this. Rick relaxes on the couch and the kids and I cram into our shower. The bath time pattern that we’ve developed really needs tweaking. It used to be the most efficient way to get all of us clean and ready for bed at the same time. If I give them a bath in the tub I wind up soaked anyway so why not just get in there with them and have it done with? I am just growing tired of having a Matchbox car (no, no-it can’t be a normal-sized car, it has to be the humongous tow truck one) fall on my toes-which is surprisingly painful-while I am washing my face so I get soap in my eyes and I’m trying to figure out which hurts more-my eyes or my toes-all while one of the kids is trying to sneak out of the shower.

8:30 pm: All of the energy they spend tormenting me in the shower must tire them out because after we get out I slap some lotion on them and squish their bodies in to their jammies, and we kiss Daddy goodnight. Then Sarah lies next to me in my bed (she’s never slept in her own bed, but Rick looks very cute in the pink Princess sheets) and I nurse Patrick to sleep. Patrick is usually asleep within 15 minutes, and I can guarantee that as soon as I put him in his crib Sarah will start asking me for cereal. I always give in because even if it is a stall tactic I am scared that if I refuse it will be the one time she really is hungry, and I couldn’t live with myself if I made her go to bed with an empty tummy. So she eats her cereal and we crawl back into bed. I pretend like I’m sleeping so she’ll get bored and decide she won’t be missing anything if she goes to sleep, too. It does work-her eyes will start to close, and-it never fails-Rick will trudge into the room looking for something ridiculous, like a car title or a book. Why would you need the title to a car all of a sudden at 9:30 pm? And in the more than 7 years that I have known Rick I have yet to see him pick up a book and read it. Needless to say, I get highly irritated when he pulls this night after night, and have taken to locking him out of the room.

10 pm: Sarah will finally give in to sleep around now, which is perfect because this also happens to be the exact time that Patrick wakes up for the first time. I rock him and within a few minutes he falls back to sleep, but I stay in there a little longer than I really have to just so I can smell his wonderful baby scent. Even though I complain about being tired there is something just plain irresistible about that baby smell.

10:30 pm: Ahhh, yes!! Finally the kids are sleeping soundly; maybe I can get some rest now, too…of course, this is about the time when Rick starts making wiggly eyes at me. My job is never done!

11:30 pm: (or so) YAY! I am getting into a comfortable spot in my bed with Sarah clobbering me with a stray arm and I have always suffered horrible insomnia so it takes me a long time to actually fall asleep. It’s so cruel—I am pretty sure I might die from exhaustion and yet sleep eludes me. *sigh*

4:45-5 am: My alarm clock (uh-that would be Patrick) goes off promptly without fail, and the process begins again. I must be doing something wrong. I need to be more efficient! I need a better strategy!! How do other moms do this?

Why Do I Miss Them??

2008-01-22T10:39:00.000-05:00

Today was one of Patrick's "early" days. Yep, much to my chagrin he sometimes wakes up earlier than 6 am. The pattern seems to be every other day. It's weird how he has an internal alarm clock--to the minute. So at 5 am I dragged my weary butt out of bed and made coffee, brushed my teeth, and went into Patrick's room to face him. About 8 o'clock I heard Sarah get up, which is my signal that is is safe to allow Patrick to roam free around the house since I no longer fear him waking her up. To my passive-aggressive glee they both stormed in and forced Rick out of bed. I made him some coffee, fed everyone breakfast, cleaned up their messes, and dressed the kids. By this time I was very proud of myself because the kitchen and living rooms were spotlessly clean despite the kids' best efforts to stop me. Their "best efforts" include:

waiting until I walk out of the room to put a stack of laundry away to throw the rest of the folded laundry onto the floor and stomp it into a wrinkled mess,
throwing the remote control in the nasty garbage which takes 20 minutes of searching on my part to find, and the only reason I found it was thanks to them...
dumping the garbage can on it's side and scrambling to shove handfuls of filth into their mouths (I know, they're disgusting kids),
flushing an entire roll of toilet paper down the toilet (thankfully they didn't unravel it first so all I had to do was scoop it out in a mushy clump-ugh), and last but certainly not least,
going poop at the exact same time.

We bought another car two days ago-new to us, but not NEW new. We laughed at ourselves because we wound up with a vehicle identical to the one I already drive-haha-how cute "His and Hers" Yukons! ::eye roll:: Same make, model, year, even the same color...

So Rick needed to tie up some loose ends with the car this morning before he goes to work this afternoon and he asked if I wanted to go with him. I jokingly said, "Well if you wanted to take one of the kids I wouldn't say no..." To my shock he agreed, "Alright...which one?" I decided to really get crazy and test the limits and ventured, "Both??" GUESS WHAT!? He said okay!!!

So I got their little shoes on, fixed them some drinks in the sippy cups, buckled them in their carseats, and kissed their sticky faces goodbye. We have a ritual where we (me & the kids) stand at our living room window and wave goodbye and blow kisses to Rick as he drives off to work. So I went to the window and waved byebye to my little babies. And I started crying. ???

I surprised myself. I have always daydreamed of what I could do with an hour of uninterrupted "me" time. Take a shower, complete with shaving both legs. Read a book (okay, part of a book). Maybe even take a nap? So here's my chance-the house is mine, ALL MINE!!!!!, and huh-I cry?? This can't be a normal reaction? Maybe people are right-the kids need some time away from me, and I need some time away from them? I really don't know. I was stunned that waving to my kids as their father-you know, the other parent-drove off with them would reduce me to tears, but I just missed them so much. What if Patrick did something really cute like say "meow" or growl and I wasn't there to see it? Sure, I've seen him do those things a hundred time, but each and every time I have laughed and had my heart warmed up. What if Sarah did something nice for Patrick, HAHAHA okay I know that's far fetched, so fine-what if she said a new word and I wasn't there to hear it? This is why my kids aren't in daycare-not because of them, but ME. I can't stand the thought of them not being with me; but isn't it kinda weird that I would cry even with my spouse-their DADDY-taking them somewhere? I feel like it is...do I have attachment issues? *sigh* Oh well, I am going to try to relax and enjoy my "me" time. :)

2008-01-16T20:59:00.000-05:00

Isn't it funny how the day can go from calm and peaceful to chaotic and out of control in mere moments? Yeah we had one of those tonight. Rick was outside with the kids on the patio and they had been in the hot tub while I was finishing dinner. I saw that they were starting to get out so I went to get dry towels. When I reached the door I looked out just in time to see Sarah's "trouble" grin...the one that never means good news...the one that I dread. She held her cat Nunie perilously over the water, and like a chump he just hung there not trying to get away. Sarah made eye contact with me and let me get out the words, "SARAH--N..." Too late-the cat was officially in the jacuzzi, scrambling to get out. He clawed his way up the side of the tub and made a bee-line to the back door which leads outside. The door was closed so he had no escape route but continued straight toward it and slammed into it. I guess with all the water in his eyes he couldn't see that it was closed or else he just didn't care and would rather be knocked unconscious than deal with Sarah (I can't blame him-I have felt that way, too). Few sights are more pitiful than a wet cat. There he was, wide-eyed and ricocheting off of everything on the patio. Sarah was on his heels (also wide-eyed) and laughing maniacally. She caught him and mercifulessly threw him in again. I know you're wondering why we didn't do anything to stop this cruelty. Honestly, the girl moves so darn fast it happened before we could react. Plus it was kinda funny.

So I opened the door to rescue the stupid cat (all of our cats are unusually patient and good with kids-they have never bitten or scratched the kids which is why they get repeatedly tortured) and he RAN-no, BOLTED-no, FLEW in without touching his feet to the ground and of course brought tons of water in with him. I quickly re-thought my strategy and tried to chase him back out through the front door, but slipped and fell on my butt from the water that the cat left on the floor (it was A LOT). So I was ~~cussing like a sailor~~ a little annoyed that I fell and got up, finally got the cat out, and looked over in time to see Patrick standing in his own little puddle. Several towels later we are all inside, and dinner was served. Ahhh, peace. HA! Yeah right! Sarah decided to help herself to the plate of chicken and wound up dumping it all on the floor. Well, I had just mopped the floor (yes, in my house the way I mop the floor is dump water on it and skate across it with towels) and whatever germs were on it would just build our immunity. So we ate chicken that was on our floor.

My Little Co-Conspirators

2008-01-06T16:31:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I woke up to the usual sound of Patrick wailing to be let out of his ~~cage~~ crib around 6:30. My rule is he has to stay in his room until 7 because I am just plain sick and TIRED of getting up so early. If he had it his way we would be up hanging out together at 5 am. It took me almost 2 months to get him to the point that he is now--waking at 6:30 and staying in his crib until 7. It wasn't until after his first birthday that he stopped waking up every 2 hours at night. I'm not exaggerating: EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. FOR OVER A YEAR. So you can see why I don't want to mess up this new schedule.

I heard him crying but decided to get up, brush my teeth, and make some coffee before getting him so that it would be closer to 7 before I went in his room. When I was satisfied that I could stall no more, I crept up to his door because I couldn't hear him whining anymore and I thought maybe, just maybe, he had fallen asleep again. HA! Yeah, like that would ever happen. I saw him standing up, playing with his music box that straps to the railing of the crib (those new and improved mobile things), and talking to the little birdies inside of it. Awww, how cute.

I slowly pushed the door open, hoping to sneak up on him so I could continue watching my little sweetness in the precious moments of babyhood. Whoa! I know that smell! I yanked open the closet door to shed light on the situation and was horrified to see poop smeared on every surface that my eyes scanned. I looked at Patrick and he was naked from the waist down, gleefully grinning up at me and chanting, "Poo-poo!" Grrrrr. He did this on purpose because I wouldn't come in here and get him out!

So I (carefully) lifted him out and held him at arm's length down the hallway to the kitchen where I plopped him in the sink for a bath. He was screaming, which woke up Sarah. So at 7 am I started a load of laundry including every single stuffed animal, sheet, blanket, and pillow. Then I had to disinfect the railings and all of the nooks and cranies of the crib. All this before coffee. Finally (hours later) I was ready to make the crib again so I dressed the kids (it was pretty cold outside), got their shoes on, and put them in the backyard so they could play together while I finished the bed. I looked out the window every 3 seconds to check on them and I noticed Patrick was hobbling a little. One of his shoes was gone. I went outside and searched the entire yard to no avail.

"Sarah! Where's Patrick's shoe?"

Blank stare.

"Did you see where his shoe fell off?"

Starts spinning around and singing.

"Sarah, if you find Patrick's shoe I'll give you a piece of candy."

ZOOM!!! Like a flash of lightning the child flew around, closing in on the missing shoe. She triumphantly held the shoe up in the air, and declared, "Candy!!!"

So I gave her a Hershey Kiss, and another to share with her brother. Patrick has learned about candy. He definitely knows what it is and he calls it "na-na" and demands it on a regular basis (no, I do not give it to him on a regular basis). After that I went back into the house and resumed what I was doing. I have a bad habit of not actually accomplishing anything when the kids are playing outside because I will stand where they can't see me and spy on them. I have waited a long time to see them interact together, and I just can't help but to watch them. And it's so much more fun when they think I'm not around.

So there I was, not being productive and spying on the little ones when I observed Sarah approach PatPat. Now admittedly I expected the worst: I was totally prepared to hear Patrick yelp for help and watch as he was brutally pushed to the ground, kicked, or had a toy snatched away from him. But no! That's not what I saw at all. Sarah said something to PatPat, and I could tell he was actively listening. He sat down, as if on command (I'm assuming that's what Sarah was telling him to do), and let Sarah take his shoe off. I was too busy watching their sibling bond in action to think ahead. So she took off the shoe and threw it away from them. Then she pulled Patrick up and they both ran up to the back door. Now I was slowly getting it. Sarah said, "Mommy! PatPat shoe!" and I played along, "Oh no! PatPat's shoe is gone again?"

I followed them outside and Sarah ran right up to the shoe in question and brought it back to me. "Candy???" Patrick was right there beside her asking for "na-na" as well.

I don't care if I'm setting myself up for a lifetime of being manipulated! I don't care if they think I'm stupid and they think they can get away with anything! I don't even care if they get a cavity! I don't care about anything except that my kids worked together to accomplish a goal! They discussed it, came up with a plan, most importantly, they WORKED together to help each other. Awwwwwwww, my heart melted right there, and yep, I gave them the candy. :)

(*Yes, by the way, I do realize that I will probably not find this behavior so cute in a few years, but for right now I do.*)

It's Cold Outside!

2007-12-26T20:37:00.000-05:00

Wow! Is Christmas Day already over? January is knocking at the door? Wow.

Our Christmas was just as we wanted it--Rick was home and we had a big breakfast, watched the kids open presents...we ate a really yummy dinner early in the afternoon and then we all fell asleep on our couch. We slept through Mass! On Christmas!! Of all days!!! Besides feeling incredible guilt and disappointment for missing out on the celebration of our Lord's birth the day was fantastic.

On Christmas Eve I was trying to explain the significance of Christmas to a three year old. Sounds easy? It's not. The conversation went something like this:
Me: "Sarah, tomorrow is C H R I S T M A S. Do you know what
C H R I S T M A S is?
Sarah: blank stare.
Me: "It's a special day that we celebrate Jesus. It's his Birthday.
Sarah: "Ooohh...CAKE!!!!!!!!!!"
Me: "Um, sure. You want to make a cake? We can make a cake for Jesus on his birthday."
Sarah: singing her version of the "Happy Birthday" song.
Me: "Right. It's his birthday, and we'll make him a cake so he knows we thought of him. And do you want to hear the story about how he was born?"
Sarah: "Cake!!!"
Me: "Yes, we'll make a cake. So listen to the story about Jesus and his mommy on the day he wa--"
Sarah: "Make cake now?"

You see the pattern? So I tried to tell her the Nativity story while we made Jesus His cake, but she really was not interested at all except for the part about the animals. I was not discouraged, though...there will be more opportunities. :) I was still very warmed up on the inside from her desire to bake in honor of baby Jesus.

Today I got up extra early (4:30 am) to go to Wal-Mart to grab up all of the marked down decorations. Yup. I'm one of those people. I am so proud of myself--I got lotsa good stuff! My inner dork is thrilled because I absolutely LOVE Christmas decorations!! Next year, the house will be even more decked out!!! Hopefully I will get a chance to put some pics up here soon--I have some cute ones from all the fun stuff we've been doing, despite the chilly weather.

Grrrrr...

2007-11-28T13:29:00.000-05:00

Our Thanksgiving was awesome-I truly have so much to be thankful for. The Lord has blessed me beyond words. My mom came with my brothers and we all had a blast-we even busted out the Christmas decorations on Friday and after they went home Sunday morning I finished the entire house. The house looks great and I now have a greater appreciation for all the hard work that Rick puts into getting those lights untangled and strung every year...it really isn't easy.

On Sunday afternoon I began to feel a pain that I have felt before and knew from experience was not a good thing. The fun of Thanksgiving was coming to a screeching halt... It was no surprise to me when I woke up in the middle of the night freezing my buns off and feeling the need to puke. I checked my temp. and it was a little over 103. In case anybody out there wanted to know WAAAAY too much personal information about me, I have been suffering from what medical professionals refer to as a "clogged milk duct". Now let me break down that medical jargon so that all the non-doctors can better understand what that means: excruciating, constant, ceaseless, stark-raving madness-inducing pain in the boob that renders the patient immobile and crying on the bathroom floor for hours until her husband comes home early from work to scoop her up and stick her in bed. It also makes one feel as if they have the flu. All kinds of fun. Rick promised he would come home at 1 o'clock so at 1:10 when the phone hadn't rung yet I called him. I already knew what he was going to say..."I'm stuck here till at least 2." So I tried my best to be a good, strong, understanding wife, but that didn't work out so I sobbed and yelled at him for lying to me and giving me false hope of a reprieve, and shamelessly begged for him to quit his job on the spot. Hey, he can always find another job! When he finally came home (1:52) he brought me my cell phone (I told you I was in bad shape) and I called the midwife to get an antibiotic.

So today I was feeling well enough to shower and put fresh clothes on (yes, it was that bad) and I went to visit the midwife. As I was explaining the severity of my close encounter with death, she stopped me mid-sentence and said, "Yes, but you are improving." Umm, because I no longer wish to die doesn't really count as improving, does it? "Yes, technically I guess I am improving, but the pain is still so bad that I can't move my arm without flinching and..." Her response: "Yes, but you no longer have the fever and you drove here so you are getting better." GGRRRRRRR. So if I had crashed my car on the way here you would take me seriously? "This amount of pain can't be normal-remember you are the one who caught both of my babies--the babies that were labored and delivered naturally-no drugs!-and the second one with PITOCIN!!!" If I'm telling you I'm in infinite amounts of pain, Lady, trust me I AM! So then she went out and got a book with lots of pictures of breasts in it (just in case I'm not familiar with that part of the female anatomy) and showed me a picture of a "healthy" breast and a picture of an "abscessed" breast (very disgusting stuff, folks!). So clearly, according to the pictures, I am fine. Just fine.

As soon as my fake, hallucinated pain goes away I am going out to buy a bunch of picture books so I can charge people insane amounts of money to tell them they are fine...and crazy. But hey, at least I'm not bitter. :)

Adventures of a Church-Going Mommy

2007-11-11T18:14:00.000-05:00

Before I start writing about my most recent fiasco, I would like to be serious for a minute and explain how proud I am that I have the opportunity to teach youth about our Lord. This year I have Kindergarten, which is PERFECT for disorganized, procrastinating me--I can improvise if I have to. I cannot tell you what an honor it is to share God with little children; seeing joy in their faces and understanding in their hearts. Being a part of that is unlike anything else I have done, and I can only pray that God will guide and help me be an effective mentor for His precious children...because I definitely can't do it on my own!

Having said that, it is hard to conduct a CCD class with a tiny room full of 5 year olds and my 3 and 1 year old at my feet, usually fussing and crying. What normally happens is I get the class under control only to have my own kids create disorder and upheaval, which gets the class going again. It is a very noisey-and hard-cycle to overcome.

This past week was no different than any other week. Patrick was tired (he wakes up at 6:30 am so by our 10 am class time he is ready for a nap) so he cried the entire-and I do mean entire-time. Sarah was actually pretty good, except for the occasional attempt to hurt her brother. Somehow, we managed to get through the lesson on God's limitless love for all things living, and we moved to the church building for Mass. Before we went in I gave Sarah a pep-talk and felt absolutely sure that I would (like each and every week that came before) have no effect on her and would definitely be taking what I refer to as "The Walk of Shame"--you know, where you have to drag the screaming child out by one arm while clutching the other kid-who decides to get in on the act as well-upside down, and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Fortunately for me, our Church community is full of children, fathers and mothers, grandparents, and other kind-hearted folks so instead of the dirty looks that one may fear, I usually just get knowing, sympathetic smiles, or grateful glances that it's not their kid this time.

We had to do The Walk of Shame pretty early on, even before the Opening Rites were finished so I felt that it was not a good sign for the rest of the service. When we took our seats again Patrick fell asleep after only minimal fussing, and Sarah played with her friend Maggie. Thanks Be To God! See, miracles DO happen! Guess I'll have to wait till next week to have any good stuff to write about. ;)

Humiliation

2007-11-10T09:17:00.000-05:00

Last night we went to Wal-Mart to fill up our gas tank because gas was supposed to go up 10 cents (to $3.18/gal) before the next day. I figured after dinner I would bathe the kids and get them into their PJs so they would fall asleep on the ride home, and all we'd have to do is transfer them into their beds. When we got to the store I realized I needed a few things that couldn't wait until the next trip so we (yes, Rick was actually with us for a change!) got the kids out of the car and went in.

Sarah was in the big part of the cart (where you're supposed to put the groceries), and Patrick was in the seat. Among the few items in the cart were chap-stick and a box of...um, feminine products. Patrick started crying so we gave him the chap-stick to keep him occupied. That upset Sarah, who felt slighted, so she grabbed the item away from Patrick, which in turn upset him. So Rick (trying to be helpful) snatched it away from Sarah...now both children were crying and I just kept walking because I knew that in just a minute something would catch their attention and the crying would cease. I walked over to the next aisle to grab something (and yes, also to pretend I wasn't part of that nutty clan), and I was gone for maybe two to three minutes.

Something did catch Sarah's attention. And within a few moments of peaceful silence, I became aware of this silence...and got that uneasy feeling that we moms get when kids are being quiet and good. I walked bak over, peered into the cart, and there was Sarah...sitting amongst a small pile if plastic wrappers and covered in pantiliners. The cart had liners stuck all over it, there were some balled up, sticking to surfaces on the railing of the cart, they were stuck to her body-my favorite was the one on her forehead. Talk about an embarrasing moment. I was stuffing the opened liners back into the box as hurriedly as I could, praying that no one knew what was going on. I blamed Rick, of course, for allowing this to happen. He thought it was the funniest, most hysterical thing ever, which angered me even more.

I made up my mind at that point that anything else I may have needed could definitely wait until next time and we made a bee-line for the cashier. I handed her the barcode side of the box and crammed it into a bag myself. Needless to say, it was not my all time best parenting experience.

Home Improvements

2007-11-08T06:48:00.001-05:00

It's funny how my husband (and I'm sure many other husbands out there) feels the need to "improve" the house so he starts 9 projects at one time to accomplish his goal. We are not talking about little, simple projects like changing the lightbulb in the closet that I've been begging him to do for almost a month or finishing the baseboards in the bathroom that he started a year (yes, a YEAR) ago. No, no. Nothing that trivial. We're talking about projects like adding a room to the house, tiling the patio, painting the utility room, and closing in the carport. Stuff like that. I also love his timing. Like when he painted the entire house two days after I gave birth to Patrick. Let me tell you how easy and fun it was to entertain a two year old and care for a brand new baby while confined to my bedroom with towels shoved under the door for 8 hours a day for three days straight.

He recently transferred to a store closer to home (which is nice since we're saving so much gas money) and is working 6-sometimes 7-days a week. Clearly now is the perfect time to start very involved, complicated home improvements. Two days ago he replaced the faucet in the kitchen. Since he is not a plumber, whom I begged him to call in the first place, the job he claimed he could finish in an hour ended up taking three. Then he had to go to work and come home on his lunch break to complete it. So I had to run down the hall to the bathroom every time I needed water throughout the day. Thanks, honey!

I think all these unfinished labors are starting to rub off on the kids. The other night I was getting ready to give baths. "Getting ready" refers to the process of laying out PJs, putting toothpaste on toothbrushes, getting beds prepared to be slept in, and wrangling the two kids so I can pin them down and desperately try to pry the clothing off of them. That last part is the most time-consuming because usually what happens is I get Patrick undressed (he's the easiest) and while he is busy taking his diaper off I find Sarah, who knows to hide when I start getting Patrick undressed. By the time I find her, Patrick usually has removed the diaper and is happily "exploring" himself. Then, after a lot of crying, begging, and argument, she feels sorry for me and lets me get her clothes off. Now enough time has elapsed for Patrick to have peed on the carpet-on a really good night for him he can also manage to poop-so while I clean the mess up Sarah picks out an outrageous outfit that generally includes a purple boa and a strange hat. After I clean up Patrick's mess and wrestle the interesting outfit off of Sarah (again) I can finally get them both in the bath. Believe it of not, it is actually easier for me to bathe them at the same time. So back to my story: the other night I was getting ready to give baths, and on this night instead of re-dressing herself as usual, Sarah decided to do a little home renovating herself. (See picture now)
Where was Rick? You know, I asked the same question! He was sitting on the other side of this wall, watching TV on the couch. Since he was sitting less than 12 inches from the scene of the crime, one might expect that if anyone is at fault it would be him for allowing our daughter to bite a chunk out of the wall. Not so; apparently it is MY fault. See, according to Rick, I "let" her do this. Don't worry-I will remember his words tomorrow night when Patrick pees on the floor. ;)

So now we have this wall to add to the list of ambitions. I'm sure it will stay this way for many, many months-if not years. ...Like the rest of our house that is full of started-but never quite finished-tasks.

Why I love frozen dinners

2007-11-05T16:55:00.000-05:00

I would like to take some time to show people why I make the same things for dinner every time I cook: spaghetti, lasagna, hamburgers, cereal...you get the idea--super easy stuff. Rick likes to make fun of my seemingly lacking culinary talents; he thinks I don't enjoy, or just don't know how to cook. Ah, no. That's not it at all. You see, the reasons I don't spend hours in the kitchen preparing masterpeices on a nightly basis are SARAH & PATRICK.

The other night I decided to be a Stepford Wife and have the house cleaned and dinner steaming on the table when Rick walked through the door from his long ~~vacation~~ day at work. So I set Sarah up with one of her cartoon movies in the living room and gave Patrick free reign of the Tupperware cabinet in the kitchen with me.

Wow, why don't I do this every night? This isn't so hard! What luck! Not a peep from the living room (I checked to make sure she was still there-just in case), and Patrick was content. About halfway through dinner preparations, Patrick crawled into the other room. Since I didn't hear any squeals, crying, or yelling, I figured I'd better finish dinner while I could.

So I finished the cooking and just kept it on the stove to keep it warm while tripping over random bits of Tupperware to set the table (I should mention that all of 10 minutes passed). The headlights from Rick's car lit up the door for a second and I ran around putting together finishing touches, knowing I had maybe another minute until he came in. The door opened and I smiled proudly, acting like I didn't just kill myself to get this supper ready in the nick of time. I asked, "Isn't the kitchen clean?...You know, besides the laundry in the corner and the Tupperware on the floor...and the juice puddle, and the garbage that missed the can..." My husband may not be the wisest man who ever lived, but he is smart enough to answer, "Yes! Looks great! You're amazing!"

So after the table was ready with the food and drinks I went to get the kids undressed (all moms know it's best if kids eat near naked)...this is what I found:

Yes, that's purple eye shadow she's wearing...she did a better job than I could have done, too! It gets better:

This is my precious, innocent Patrick (I admit, not his cutest picture ever) from the front. Now check out the back:

So that is why I don't cook more fancy meals. I prefer my baby to not be covered in Crayola. Note to other moms who don't know this yet: "washable" just means it's not supposed to stain forever. It doesn't mean you can just wash the baby and it comes right off. The only remedy is time...

When Daddy Watches the Kids...

2007-11-03T15:45:00.000-04:00

Bad things happen when Daddy watches the children in our house. This past week I was so sick I was literally wishing for death for sweet relief. So on Tuesday when my husband came home from work I was sure that he would step up and offer to take over childcare duties so I could get some much-needed rest. Nope.

I finally guilted him into taking the kids outside for some playtime and when they came back inside (I'm going to point out that they spent a total of maybe 35-40 minutes out there, tops) both kids were completely soaked from playing in the hose, dirty from making mud soup, and crying because they were cold.

So I reluctantly got up from my place on the couch and put their wet, filthy clothes in the washer while bathing them in the kitchen sink. With the clothes being washed and the kids cleaned up I felt like I could sit down again. I should have known that was a BIG mistake. Rick claimed he was getting drinks for the kids and himself, but when I heard chaos in the kitchen I looked to see
what was going on and he was no where to be found. I was not the least bit surprised to find him in the bathroom (husbands seem to spend a great deal of time in that particular room). After making sure he saw the eye roll I gave him I headed back towards the kitchen to round up the kids...Too Late.

Sarah was enthusiastically stomping Goldfish crackers into the floor at lightning pace. How children manage to create such big messes in so little time and with so few supplies, I'll never figure out. I went to get the vacuum-meanwhile my sweet 12 month old, Patrick, was busy emptying the Tupperware cabinet and chewing sidewalk chalk. Goldfish and sidewalk chalk drool make an interesting substance that likes to get stuck into grout. And not come out. Ever. The included picture shows a part of the mess I got to enjoy. Now, I knew better than to leave two toddlers in an unattended room for more than 11 seconds, but on this day I was just so sick all I wanted was a little peace. My less than 45 minute "break" (that's what Rick likes to call it) from the kiddies wound up taking me an hour and a half to clean up!

Festival Fun

2007-10-15T08:06:00.000-04:00

Last Saturday I took the kids to the Butterfly Festival and we met up with my best friend, who lives too far away from us to see often enough. She has a 4 month old baby and a 7 year old step-daughter. The day started off wonderfully; the weather was good, the kids were in good moods, and I felt good. Yup, everything was good. I put the baby in the umbrella stroller so I wouldn't have to maneuver the double stroller through the huge crowds and small spaces and put our bag of stuff in the basket of my friend's stroller.

There was a booth to buy these humongous, delicious-looking snow cones so of course I bought one for the kids and I to share. After the kids did some arts and crafts and saw all the sights, we decided to leave and eat lunch at Chili's. We had been there for just over 2 hours, and really, how much Butterfly Festival can four kids (and their moms) handle?

So my friend and I walked our broods to the parking garage, went up the elevator (she was on the 2nd level and I was on the 3rd), and parted ways until we would meet up again at the restaurant about 5 minutes away. When I got to my car I realized I had forgotten my bag in Lisa's stroller. Thank God!--I had my cell phone in my back pocket. Just as I was reaching for it, Lisa was calling me to tell me to wait by my car so she could bring me my bag, which held my keys. So there we were, waiting patiently and snapping photos by the car when Sarah decided she had to pee. I keep a potty chair in the car just for situations like this, but with no car keys it didn't do me much good. Lisa finally came around the corner with the forgotten bag and I dug in for the keys as she drove off to get at table at the restaurant.

Yes! I got the car opened, put the potty in the correct position, turned to pick Sarah up and put her on it, and stopped. She was standing in a little puddle with a big grin on her face. "PEE!" she gleefully said, like I should be just as relieved as her. So I got the bag of spare clothes that I keep in the car (again, just for situations like this) and searched for a new outfit. Okay so she was all cleaned up and sitting safely strapped in her car seat. Now I could get the baby into his car seat--oops, nope--first I have to change his diaper because with all the spare time he had he pooped. Several minutes later Patrick was cleaned up and in the car, Sarah was cleaned up and in the car...then to put all the accessories in the car. I thought of my poor friend sitting at Chili's waiting for me, possibly imagining a flat tire scene, as I climbed into the driver's seat when I heard the sound-okay, one of the sounds-that every parent dreads. The puke sound. Electric blue snow-cone leftovers covered the car seat and everything surrounding the car seat within a 2 foot radius. Sigh. Dig in the bag for more emergency clothes. Uh-oh. No more emergency clothes!? Hmm, no big deal, I just have to improvise. Sarah's a petite girl. Maybe she would fit into Patrick's 12 month size onesie? I admit she looked a little...creative...but hey, at least she was dressed! I did have a skirt in the bag so that helped. After a quick phone call to apologize to Lisa we were on our way!

We had a relatively uneventful lunch (yay!), and after saying our good-byes I felt the need to go to Old Navy. We're so close! And we don't have an Old Navy near our house! I can pull this off! On went my inner pep talk. Full of confidence I pulled into the parking spot, unloaded all the gear and kids, and we went in the store. I am in desperate need of (bigger) clothing like most mothers so I decided to try on a couple of pairs of jeans. I have no idea what made me think I was going to be able to try on clothes. We waited for 10 minutes for the big dressing room to open up so we could all fit, and during that time-of course-Sarah had to pee again. Or so she said. I reluctantly left the stroller in the young employee's care and ventured into the store's bathroom. After liberally applying toilet paper to the seat and pulling clothes off of Sarah (all one-handed mind you) she sat there and produced nothing. Grrrr. All that work for nothing! So by the time we got back to the fitting room it was open and we went in. Off came my pants. Down went the sippy cup. Bang went the door. As in: Oh-crap!-Sarah-just-opened-the-door-and-my-half-naked-body-is-exposed-for-the-world-to-see! AGGHHHHH!!! I hate when she does that!

They both started crying because Sarah took away the toy that was keeping Patrick happy and he pulled her hair in response. So I figured I'd buy both pairs of jeans and try them on at home. I was half way around the store before I realized that I'd forgotten to zip and button up my pants! Flashing the same store twice in 15 minutes-a new personal record. In the checkout line Patrick was still crying and I was looking for his cup so he would be quiet. Oh no-the cup's gone! I wouldn't have really cared except this was a fancy Dora cup with the flip-straw contraption that costs almost $10. I was not leaving that store without that cup! So I paid for our stuff and retraced our steps. The last place I checked was the dressing room. Someone was in that room so the sales girl, who remembered us very well, had to ask the occupant to pass it under the door. So $10 cup in hand I proudly stumbled out of the doors with a crying baby on my hip, a crying toddler clutched to my leg, and a huge, empty double stroller bumping into everything-and everyone-in front of me.

In typical fashion the little darlings passed out immediately in their carseats and slept all the way to their Daddy's work place, about 45 minutes away. We were going in to say hello to him and order Patrick's birthday cake before heading home. While I was talking to the bakery kid, I pretended I didn't notice the ominous smell coming from Sarah's direction. I ordered the cake as fast as I could and got the kids to the car. Just as I finished diapering Sarah, she was in need of a new one. Four diapers later, I was pretty sure the bout of diarrhea was over. We had to go back into the store to wash our hands, and after all of that it was time for Rick (my husband) to get off of work. I should mention that we got there around 4:15, and he got off at 5:30! So we just waited in the parking lot for him. When he saw us sitting there (actually "sitting there" really means Sarah was jumping on the backseat like it was a trampoline and Patrick was hanging halfway out of the front window yelling and waving at passers-by) Rick innocently asked, "What are you still doing here!?" When he saw my face-this is why I love him-he simply said, "We're buying something for dinner so you don't have to cook." God Bless my husband. :)

Thus concluded our Saturday outing. I'll be sure to share our Sunday adventures as soon as I get some more free time!

Welcome to my blog about my life as a mom

2007-10-08T14:33:00.000-04:00

Welcome to my first (okay, technically not first, but first public...) attempt at blogging. I intend to share my many memorable mom moments, if nothing else than to vent! I have a three year old daughter and a one year old son. While they are the loves of my life they have definitely cost me much of my sanity! Nobody told me how challenging having two little ones can be. It's like a huge secret that women keep from each other to protect the human race-if we told each other how consuming it is to raise more than one kid, there would be a lot more only children running around! The good news is-as I'm slowly discovering-it does get easier, like all those veteran moms try to tell me. Since I'm sure people reading this are already members of the club, I am confident I can share my horror stories (which others keep assuring me will be funny one day) without causing a dent in the population.

For example, my most recent trip to the doctor's office went something like this:

After somehow feeding, bathing, and dressing the kids in less than 3 hours we all loaded into the car, miraculously only 5 minutes behind schedule. Of course Sarah (the 3 year old) decided she had to go to the bathroom right after we pulled out of the neighborhood. Anyone who has had a recently potty-trained kid knows that "holding it" is not an option. So back home we go, the potty we use, and back into the car, now (much more typical) a good 15 minutes behind.

When we finally arrived at the office (let me mention the Herculean effort it took to get 2 squirming babes out of their car seats, keep them from getting run over in the parking garage, put the baby into an umbrella stroller, and get off the elevator after stopping at every floor because Sarah mashed all the buttons, while I avoided eye contact with the other passengers) I had to occupy the rugrats. Occupying rugrats in a boring doctor's office is no easy task. I usually use food, but I was saving that for later when the doctor came in to see me.

Finally, after what seemed like hours I got to move into the examination room, which everyone knows is just a second waiting room. We had lots of fun making balloons out of latex gloves and looking through all the drawers and tearing pages out of magazines. The nurse came in and instructed me to "get undressed and put on this gown". The "gown" she refferred to was really a flimsy strip of see-through paper with huge arm-pit holes my boobs could hang out of and no back. So armed with animal crackers and absolutely no shame left in me, off came the clothes and on went the "gown". I should have seen this coming, but honestly I thought the doctor really would "be right in" because of all the commotion coming from our room. I was sure he'd want me outta there as soon as possible. But nope, he didn't come right in. So the kids were tired of playing doctor and getting hungry again by this point, and I started saying my prayer. You know the mom prayer that basically goes, "Please, God, let my kids be good for just a little longer so I can get through this. Please, please and I promise I will...." and so forth.

Guess what-the doctor did come in...right as I was chasing a renegade toddler around the exam table, in my "gown", sun-deprived butt totally exposed and jiggling behind me. Again employing the Avoidance of Eye Contact Trick, I hopped onto the table, silently chanted the mom prayer, and pretending the baby wasn't crying in the stroller and the little girl wasn't kicking and grunting in my arms.

After all my embarrassment, it just wasn't over: The doctor decided maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all, and made me reschedule for "sometime when the children aren't so fussy"! So I've come to the conclusion that the doctor visit isn't extremely important (at least not important enough to experience that again), and I will reschedule...for when the children are grown.

Of course my little ones fell fast asleep on the ride home. How can they look so sweet when they sleep!?