Monday Madness

In picture style.

So far this morning, I've tried to teach The Princess some school-worthy information. Instead, we've spent 45 L.O.N.G. minutes talking about an injury that she got from the puppy. Now, I know that the puppy is HUGE. But The Princess was inside the gated area with the puppy, and there was much squealing and wrestling. There was an injury. And if we do NOT find another subject on which to obsess...there may be another injury.

Just saying.

In other news...

When he's gone she misses him. She might say she doesn't. She might act tough. But it's a smokescreen. She misses him.

I'm wondering if I need to address her hoarding issues? I took these pictures the other night while she was asleep. She was sleeping in The Prince's room due to the ultra-cool bunk-beds. She felt that bringing a few things from across the hall (a.k.a. her room) was just what the top bunk needed. YIKES! She even hung crap from the ceiling. **If you can't see very well, the bed is so full with toys that there was only enough room for one little girl.**

The Prince got this Robot gear for his birthday. He loves it. We try not to laugh. It makes him strong.

Because she did NOT get robot gear, and she still needed to dress-up for battle...she became tissue paper girl! When life hands you lemons...

And last but not least -- Next time I make a cake, I need to let it cool somewhere high.

Plans

I had big plans for today.

It's been a mixed up few days, what with doctors appointments, tests, sitting, waiting, and more doctors.

The Princess was floating through an unexpected fall break.

The Prince was slacking a little on the readin', writing', and 'rithmetic.

I went to bed last night with plans to conquer the world.

Clean the house.

Do the stinky laundry.

Teach the letter W.

Teach some division and Greek mythology.

And then, I woke up sick.

Officially I woke up at O-six-hundred feeling very awful.

I quickly informed my husband who graciously decided to stay home for the day.

It might have been that I looked like a vampire -- all pale and crazy.

Then I closed my sad little eyes and put my plans on hold.

I woke up at 2:00 p.m.

I basically had another entire night's sleep.

Still feeling very ick. And still looking vampire-ish.

And those plans...

Well, that's what I get for making plans.

What happens the day after

Your 6th birthday.

Birthday: You wake up and we all yell Happy Birthday!! Yea!

Day After: You wake up and we pack for the hospital. Boo.

Birthday: You eat waffles for breakfast! Yea!

Day After: You eat jello and juice for breakfast. No food today. Boo

Birthday: You pack your backpack and head out the door to school! Yea!

Day After: You pack your backpack and head out the door to the Children's Hospital.

Boo.

Birthday: You enjoy the morning with your friends at school! Yea!

Day After: You spend the morning in the car drinking Miralax and pooping every 15 minutes. Boo.

Birthday: You get to go on a special shopping trip with mommy and Nana and look at Legos in a toy store! Yea!

Day After: You have to spend the afternoon getting tested, weighed, measured, and Echo'd. They found a murmur. They didn't like how it sounded. They decided that you needed an Echo cardiogram before the Colonoscopy in the morning. Boo.

Birthday: You get to spend the rest of the day playing with special friends, riding your bike, laughing, opening gifts, eating a special birthday dinner and CAKE! Yea!

Day After: You have to spend the rest of the day sitting in a hotel room, watching TV, drinking more Miralax, eating more Jello, pooping a LOT, and getting your grumpy on because you DO NOT FEEl GOOD (and I do not blame you one bit!). Boo.

Birthday: I love to spend time with you! I am proud of the 6 year old that you are! You amaze me every day!

Day After: I am even more impressed with your character. I am really proud of how you behave and handle these awful situation. I love to spend time with you...happy and grumpy both!

Happy Birthday Buddy.

He's 6 TODAY! He went from this...

To This...

While I wasn't watching.

Gulp.

Ok, that's dramatic.

I was watching every single moment.

But still...

It happened fast.

It's DodgeTag!

The Prince will be 6 tomorrow.

Presents are flowing like water 'round here.

Here's the latest.

It's called DodgeTag.

It should be called "Someone slapped a vest on me that gave me license to throw a ball at my sibling and my mom is going bat snot crazy" but DodgeTag is probably easier to market.

It turned my kids from this...

Into this...

And this...

This gift came via Amazon. Via USPS. With no name attached.

No identification.

I had to do a little calling to find out who to thank.

And I've figured it out.

So thank you!

And just remember...Christmas is right around the corner. I'm trying to decide what to get your daughter. I've gotten it narrowed down to a drum set, 25 different colors of lipstick and fingernail polish, or oil based paint and brushes.

Hugs and Kisses.

I can get a little emotional

Today was The Prince's 6th birthday party. He has been looking forward to this for days and days.

I haven't really been looking forward to it...Is that bad?

But I was wrong...

It was a blast!

It was a magical day. November and no wind and 70-something degrees.

The party was in the park. A Party in the Park in November. AMAZING!!

We invited the Kindergarten friends and one extra. The Kindergarten friends are a precious group of boys. These guys are sweet and cute and all boy!! They play together and laugh and run and jump and yell and throw their testosterone all over the place. It's awesome.

The one extra boy is a special guy that we've known from the beginning. As in his first days on earth. He and The Prince don't go to school together. They only see each other every so often...and when they do...watch out. They connect and play and laugh and never get tired.

These boys, they fill my tank. I want to grab each of them up and squeeze them until their eyes pop out of their cute little heads. I love them for loving my boy. I love them for turning leaves and sticks into guns and shields. I love them for eating more cake then I thought was humanly possible and then talking about puking it up. I love them for getting smacked in the face with a ball and a knee and still pushing forward. I love little boys!!

The gift time was hysterical. It was Lego set after Lego set. And each new set brought cheers and gasps. If they were 17 you'd of thought we set a keg in front of them and handed out red solo cups.

I want to be 6 again and think Legos are the solution to all of life's problems.

Today was magic for me and for one very happy almost-6 year old boy!

The Decisions I Make

I am having one of those days when I question every decision I've made.

Thankfully those days do not come around very often.

When they do, I just hold on for the ride.

Today, the questions are all about school.

Is homeschooling the Princess a good idea?

Is keeping the Prince home from school during his current flare a good idea?

Am I teaching them anything?

Am I letting them do too many "free play" activities?

Am I lazy?

Am I nuts?

Why can't the Princess spell anything?

Why can't the Prince write a V?

It's one of those days.

Hoping tomorrow won't be.

Trick or Treat

If Anybody Wants To Be First,

He Must Be Very Last.

These are the lyrics to a song the kid's listen to. It's quoting Mark 9:35 in the Bible.

I was watching in the rear view mirror as this song was playing in the car. The Princess was just singing and happy. The Prince was doing what he does best and most often...he was thinking. I could literally hear the wheels turning.

So I just waited. I knew it was coming.

He never makes me wait for long.

Him: "Mommy, does that song say if you want to be first you have to be last?"

Me: "Yep"

Him: "Well, that doesn't make any sense. None of the kindergarten kids know about that!"

Me: "It's really hard to understand, buddy. But I think this is what it means. Jesus talks about this in the Bible...**And then I made very pathetic attempt to teach a Bible concept, that I have trouble understanding, to a 5 year old. So I've leaving out my explanation.**

Him: "I think I'm gonna try that at school."

Me: "That would be awesome!"

At this point we arrived at our destination. I put the van in park. My Prince darted out of his seat almost knocking his sister over to get out of the van first and racing her inside.

Me: "STOP!! This is what we were just talking about! What are you concerned about right now? Who are you thinking about??"

Him: (great big eyes!) "I'm trying to be first. I'm thinking about me. Ohhhhh."

And then he slows waaaaayyyyy down to be last. And then The Princess, who has said nothing this entire time, realizes what is happening, and she slows down so that she isn't first.

And the world is now a happy place because I walked into the house first with both of my children trailing behind me.

Score!

Because tomorrow is not a guarantee, it's a gift.

My princess has been seeing the same pediatric psychiatrist since she was diagnosed at 4 years old with ADHD. Yes, I know that's a very early diagnosis. Yes, I know it's controversial for a child to be put on meds anyway, let alone at 4 years old. Yes, I know ADHD is over-diagnosed and kids are labeled more often than they should be. Yes, I am sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that if you need to see a TEXT - BOOK example of ADHD in a child...you should come to my house. (If you know us in real life, you are smiling right now).

Ok, so the point...is actually about the doctor we've been seeing for 4 years. I won't go into a bunch of boring details about how much he has helped us, sat with us, talked to us, and always helped us to see the positive side of a very hard road. I'll just say that I trust him completely and I've said from the beginning, where he goes...I'll go.

Well, he moved his practice to another state. I tried to go with him. But alas, I was told that I would have to stay put. And my daughter is now in need of a highly-skilled-highly-trustworthy-doctor. His shoes are not gonna be easy to fill.

And onto my Prince.

He is loaded to the gills with medication for his diagnosis of Crohn's. In addition, he has been unable to shake a nasty bacterial infection for the last year! Yes, I said one whole year...maybe longer. After nine weeks of yet a different drug, we may have kicked it. That's the really good news!

The not so really good news, he is having some sort of something happening. Crohn's symptoms that he shouldn't be having. We will be making a few hundred phone calls tomorrow.

Just two little people, but they sure do give me a lot to think (in full disclosure, I should have typed worry instead of think) about.

True

8 year old Princess: "Do those things close with velcro?" [Things = my bra]

Me: "Nope, it's a little hook."

Her: "Oh, huh..."

Me: [Feeling eyes boring into my back and a little awkward] "Don't get too excited about having to wear these silly bras. They aren't that great."

Her: "How come?"

Me: "They aren't that comfortable and it would be way easier to just put a shirt on like you do and be ready."

Her: "Well, it's probably because they wiggle around."

***Ok, I'm stopping here to explain that I feared the worst at this point but still hoped for the best. So I took the next step forward...on purpose.

Me: "What wiggles around?"

Her: "You know, the nipples."

Me: "Oh, yep. That's what does happen. That's why girls usually wear a bra. It's not very appropriate to see all of that 'wiggling'."

Her: "Do they sometimes wiggle so much that they pop out the top of your shirt?"

Me: "Oh, for crying out loud! Not usually."

Her and Me: Raucous laughter!

"Well, that's strange."

My 5 year old and I were bonding over a little Kindergarten homework.

He is working very hard at learning all of the letters and their sounds.

It's not been an easy road for him.

And we are still on the uphill journey.

Today we were using flashcards. His job was to see the letter, say the letter name, and then say the letter sound.

Occasionally, we would sail though a letter, name, and sound.

Often he would see the letter and say the letter name but not remember the sound.

And then there were the times when he saw the letter, said the letter sound, and had no clue about the letter name.

For instance: "mmmmm,mmmmmm, Milk, I fink that is letter P"

Sooo, we have a little work to do.

I needed to get creative as quickly as he was getting bored and frustrated.

I gave him the suggestion of singing the alphabet song in his head when he saw a letter he could not remember the name of. Hoping it would jar his memory.

The next letter I showed him was E. He said "eh, eh, elephant" then he closed his little eyes and started in with the alphabet song. When he got to "E" his eyes popped open and he yelled, "it's an E!!" So proud.

And congrats to mom for helping with the success.

Yeah, well it was short lived.

The next letter was R.

He looked at it. Frowned. Said "rrr,rrr, ring," and then once again he closed his little eyes and started in with the alphabet song. Sang the stinkin' song all the way through. Stopped. Opened his eyes and glanced at me. Closed his eyes for a SECOND time and sang again.

Then he popped those eyes wide open and said,

"Well, that's strange...that one's not in the alphabet."

Well, good.

Getting my grumpy on.

Ugh. I am so incredibly sick of being in a bad mood.

Today all day I tried to find my inner-good-mood.

"Illusive little creature."

Why the bad mood? You ask.

Let's see if I can recap.

The day started with morning and I really loathe morning. So that's #1.

We have 4 items of food in this house those would be: sweetened condensed milk in a can, frozen peas, spray Pam, and American cheese. So that's #2.

My kids ask for food every other second all day long. Usually it's annoying. Today it was literally impossible to please them or even distract them. So that's #3.

The dog has barked no less than 4,567 times...and that is only the number or barks since I've started this post. So that's #4.

The hair on my legs can now be considered a suitable winter coat. Ewwwww and #5.

I have 2 very full baskets of laundry to fold. Once that is done, every single item of clothing that we own, as a family, is officially out of the drawers and closets and laying, neatly folded, in baskets. Who is gonna put this crap away? So that's #6.

I had to take 800mg of Motrin since I didn't have any Midol (if you get my drift). So that's #7 and #8.

And my Princess has been very crafty today which means that I have oodles of crap, errr...I mean, creative accessories all over my house. So that's #9.

Happy, happy, joy, joy.

Pumpkins!

Going Green

Yesterday morning a friend called and said, "Do you want to take a field trip to the recycling center?"

I'm embarrassed to admit that we were not already doing our part. But alas, it's the truth. We are lazy and that's that...

So The Princess and I jumped at the chance to check out the process and get some inspiration.

The princess was all into it - sorting, tossing, and learning.

We came back home and got right down to business. Our tubs are lined up in the garage. My family has their instructions and we feel better already.

Give it a try!!

This little piggy went to market.

Well, in the case of my uncle...his little piggy went to the amputated body parts graveyard.

Last week my uncle, bless his heart, had to have a toe amputated. I've been so so sad thinking about him going through surgery, etc. We all just lost my Aunt Karen, his wife, this past summer, and I think this guy deserves a break.

To his credit, he is living through the entire situation like a great, tough, funny dude. I love it.

So this toe thing...he's doing fine. Apparently toe removal is same day surgery. He even stopped by the grocery store on the way home. It sounds like he can walk fine, and there isn't any pain - so he's not complaining. He even commented that he had 9 others so it wasn't that big of a deal. Again, funny.

But then last night he made a comment that I literally have not been able to stop thinking about. He said, "I'm fine. My other toes are doing well. I can wiggle all of them...in fact I can even wiggle the one that isn't there anymore."

I laughed, hard for about 10 minutes. I thought that comment was hysterical. This guy has been through a lot. And I am sure that if I were sitting in his spot, I would find something to complain bitterly about. Not him. He's just funny.

Suddenly, I realized with a lot of horror - that there is absolutely no way I could handle feeling a body part that was no longer actually apart of my body. The more I think about it, the worse it gets. And then I feel awful because it's no longer even about my uncle and how he is doing. Nope, now it's all about me.

Nice.

Family Game Night

We attempted charades tonight.

If you ever need to get a little insight into your children's heads, I recommend you play a little game of charades.

My hubby and I chose to act out things like: a baseball player, a tree, a rainbow, the sun

The Princess: cheetah, jaguar, lion, komodo dragon, snake

The Prince: an army man holding a gun, a police man holding a gun, a knight holding a gun and shield, a Viking with a gun, a gunner, a man with a small gun, a man with a large gun, a man with a gun driving a car, a man with a gun flying a plane, a man with a gun guarding a king, a man with a gun finding bad guys, a man with a gun walking on a boat, and (possibly my personal favorite) a man with a gun passing out shoe boxes to needy children at Christmas time. ***In case you wonder about the gun in the last scene, it's to shoot anyone who tries to take those shoe boxes away from those poor kids.***

Happy game playing.

We are passionate people.

Here at our house I describe us as passionate. We are passionate about our opinions. We are passionate about our likes. We are passionate about our dislikes. We are passionate about food. We are passionate about...I think you get the picture.

With all of this passion flying around, we have completely failed at the art of discussion and polite listening. Discussions usually start with "did you hear?" or "what do you think about...?" or "hey, listen to this...!"

But these little discussions end looking more like a full contact sport. The sport is not fighting. I agree that it might look like fighting to the untrained eye. But it's not fighting - I swear. It's just competition. We all think we are right. Each of us will defend our position of rightness to the death. And thinking you are right brings with it the opposing thought that your discussion mate is not only wrong but really stupid.

We have gone through cycles in our 12 plus years of marriage where we don't discuss anything unless we have the foreknowledge that we do and will fully agree on the topic. At other times we have taken the sport to it's limits and tested our abilities to be right and still maintain a marriage.

Our current season is the best so far. We don't shy away from any discussion. We have learned when to walk away. And we usually stay put and see it through until each of the participants is fully spent and a truce is not even called for lack of ability to talk.

This past week (give or take) has served up some delicious topics to really draw the passion right out of us. It's been fun!

Here are just a few:

~President Obama and his Prize. I'm all for it. Too early? Sure. Misguided? I don't think so. Reason for people to get all rude and nasty? Now that's just plain ridiculous.

~The definition of Vision. This was a good one. I even looked up the definition according to Webster and Wikipedia. And still we struggled to all agree that I am right. But I am.

~Anytime minutes with our cell phone plan. Calling your voicemail from your own phone does in fact use anytime minutes.

~The fine line between love and judgement. Listening and advising. Being there and being right.

There is no great wrap up to this post. It just is. This is a piece of the way we do life.

The end.

Have you ever wondered...

What it would be like to take a bottle of perfume and spray it and spray it and spray it until it was empty??

Here's what happens:

1. It starts to smell in every part of the house

2. It reaches toxic levels in the bedroom that is absorbing most of the spray - which just happens to be the master bedroom

3. The adults in the house begin to actually taste perfume

4. Attempting to sleep in aforementioned room results in a headache of monumental proportions.

5. All thoughts of opening windows and airing everything out come to a screeching halt when it begins to pour down rain.

6. High humidity and closed windows causes all smells to fester.

7. The mommy in the house gets all kinds of crazy mad.

If you don't believe me, ask my daughter.

A little bit of homeschool.

This week in our little home school we have learned a lot of delightfully stimulating and life-long necessary facts...

~Four verb types:

Present: Today I roll my eyes during grammar.

Present Participle: Today I am rolling my eyes during grammar.

Past: Yesterday I rolled my eyes during grammar.

Past Participle: All week I have rolled my eyes during grammar.

~Math story problems:

If a 3rd grade student has 10 math problems to do and if each problem takes her 20 minutes of arguing and complaining and talking about everything besides the actual math problem...How long will will it take before the mother/teacher throws a pencil at the wall and runs for the wine rack?

~Spelling words:

It is ver-y im-port-ant to learn how to di-vide ev-er-y word in-to syll-ab-les so that the spell-ing ru-les will work. ***And what I learned is that I am really bad at syllables on paper. As you can tell.

And last but not least ---

~Reading:

This one I love! I do this for (gasp!) fun and relaxation. My 3rd grader thinks is torture.

Happy Homeschooling!

A verbal snapshot of my house today.

"For sale" sign in the yard.

Semi-dead flowers on the porch. Beautiful mums in a planter.

Papa asleep on the couch in the living room - after a tough day of teaching.

Little dog wandering aimlessly around the house trying to find something to bark at.

Big dog napping in the garage. Rather than galloping around the house.

5 year old asleep on the couch in the TV room - after a long day of school.

Dishwasher full of clean dishes. Sink full of not-so-clean dishes.

Refrigerator not full at all.

Toys scattered willy-nilly all over the house.

Spelling words laying on the coffee table...being ignored and mistreated.

Kindergarten reader laying on the desk in exasperation after listening to a 5 year old try and sound out letters. Oh wait, maybe I'm projecting.

Laundry baskets in the laundry room full of dirty laundry.

Laundry baskets in the hallway full of clean laundry.

Washer and dryer - empty. hmmmm

3 beds on the second story all unmade.

One bed on the second story contains an 8 year old who is reading (gasp) a book. However, it's about science experiments...so I can no longer leave her unattended.

Windows all over the house are open!!

Pumpkin candle is lit and filling the house with the smell of fall and quite a bit of indoor air-pollution.

Me? Well, I'm sitting in the office/school room eating (always eating) and drinking a diet coke.

This is a good day.

Here is "Where the Wild Things Are"

I love that book by Maurice Sendak. We read it a lot around here.

Seems fitting.

It's been a tough week around here for me. I have been frustrated on more than one occasion by my wild and crazy children. I have wished that they would listen to my bossing. I have demanded that they obey. I have gotten angry and I have walked away just to calm myself.

And then I realized.

We have something here at this house that I wouldn't trade.

We have a lot of laughter. Loud, unashamed, joy-filled laughter. Mostly it's the kids (while the hubster and I stare at each other in exhaustion). But it's laughter all the same.

We have the voices of children filling every corner of this house. There were days when this house was quiet and we prayed for a small voice to call this place home. There will be days in our future when it will be quiet once again. I am happy that the cobwebs in the corners shake and blow at the voices that bounce off of them. Anyone can have quiet. Not everyone gets to hear the kinds of hysterical things I hear constantly.

We have conflict and arguing here. The conflict and arguing make us nuts and sometimes we want to run for the hills. But then I stop and realize that it's because we are all strong, passionate, and bold. I am proud of my kids that they know how to speak their mind. I am happy to give them an environment where they expect freedom, and they know what it is to be safe and free.

We have music. Music in many forms fill this house. My princess is taking Piano lessons. On any given day, I hear very slow but deliberate pounding out of notes on the piano. I LOVE it. We have silly dance music that causes us to run around the house and spin and twirl. We have drums made out of buckets and boxes and the occasional wall. We have songs about ABCs and 123s, battles and sleeping, tooting and burping - and I get to hear them all.

I am gonna have those days (probably tomorrow) when I start to feel all sad and gross. I will wish that things were different from how they actually are. I will watch another family and wish for my family to look like that.

But I want to stop myself and remember. These wild things are exactly the right wild things for me!!

Chili Head

My friend asked me if I would sit with her on a Saturday morning if she entered our local town Chili Cook-off.

Sure! No problem. I imagined sitting downtown in the sunshine chatting with my friend. Easy, right?

Well, that's what I get for imagining.

I think she put hours into the prep time for this event. I put in about 13 seconds. My only contribution was dialing her phone number and asking, "What time should I be there?"

Her reply: "Setup starts at 7 a.m. and cooking starts at 8 a.m."

At this point I knew I was in big trouble.

She did give me a responsibility. I was in charge of gathering the supplies for the hand washing station. I eagerly put my heart and soul into my job. Container of hot water, soap, towel, and basin for the dirty water. I learned two things. 1. When the activity is cooking food on a street no hand washing is required. 2. Don't eat chili cooked on a street.

The day came and the alarm went off at 6-freaking-O'clock-in the morning!!

I hit snooze. 3 times.

After finally getting myself out of bed - on a Saturday morning - I tore around my house getting ready and realizing that it was the first really cold morning we've had so far. And I am not talking a little chill in the air. I'm talking cold. The folks in the booth next to us had a fire pit going just so that they could feel their fingers to chop onions. Not me, I had a shirt and a jacket and a mug of coffee that I considered dunking my fingers in.

My nervous friend went to work cooking some seriously great chili. I stood and drank my cup of coffee from home. Then we both sat for a few minutes and ate some breakfast. Then I drank the coffee that my husband dropped off for me. Then I drank the coffee that her husband so graciously fixed for us. Then I drank a diet coke. Then I ran to the bathroom. My friend continued to measure and stir and (I am sure) wonder how one person could drink so much liquid before 10 a.m. and be of so little actual help.

In between gulps of coffee/coke I stared around the plaza in awe of the work that people had put into this event. We had a table very nicely decorated. Simple and uncluttered. Other folks had costumes and booths with walls and wheels, things that blew up and flew in the wind, tent coverings, and musical instruments, grills, and actual fires. It was elaborate.

At noon the public showed up. My job during the next hour and a half was to serve chili. These folks were chili connoisseurs. They were tasting and talking about the different flavors and what was hot and what was sweet and which was better. It was entertainment.

In the end my friend didn't win the grand prize. However, her chili was awesome, down to the last drop. And honestly, when do I ever get to sit outside in the fresh air, drink myself silly on coffee and coke and people watch for 6 hours.

But next year our booth will be BIG and we will be dressed as chili peppers.

Too late for a nap and too early for bed.

At 6:15 last night I hit my limit.

The day was fine. The evening was fine. My hubby was home. The kids were happy.

None of this mattered. I hit my limit.

With a little encouragement from the family that was tired of listening to me whine, I went to rest for a few minutes. Which turned into the evening. And plowed straight through until 3:30 a.m.

I woke up. Not the kind of semi-comatose, rub your eyes, roll over, snuggle under the covers, get me back to that dream I was just having awake. Nope the full blown get me breakfast and coffee and the news and the computer and I need to pee and ick where is my toothbrush hello world kind of awake.

I got up. Came downstairs. Made coffee. Ate some cereal. Watched the TV. Wondered around - alone - in the quiet. And I have decided that this will now be my new routine.

Don't call after 6:30 p.m. It's bedtime.

Funny has left the building...

Well, that's a little cocky - cause it may never have actually been here in the first place.

But in the slight chance that funny was a part of my life, I am reporting that 'it' has left. Only to be replaced with crabby, grumpy, serious, and melancholy. Anyone wanna come visit??

Didn't think so.

In spite of all of that, I miss blogging. I miss writing. I miss talking about myself to an audience of 2 (on a good day). I miss having the details and stories of my life listed out all neat and tidy in a row with dates and times stamped on them.

So, I'm jumping in again.

This could possibly be the most boring blog the Internet has ever seen. And still, my mom will call and tell me how great it is and thank me for writing. Everyone needs a cheerleader in their life -- even if said cheerleader is chock-full-of-lies!

How do I begin this re-bloggy thing?

I'll start with what's rattling around in my mind:

1. H1N1. Ugh, I am so sick of thinking about it. Trying not to worry about it. Reading about it. And yet, I'm still talking about it. I'm thinking about it a lot because I'm a nurse and a recovering hypochondriac so I think about health issues a lot. I'm worrying about it because I am working my B.U.T.T. off trying to keep my autoimmune-disorder-Crohn's-disease-5-year-old-much-too-stinkin'-young-child-to-have-to-suffer-with-this crap-and-have-his-life-ruled-by-watching-the-food-that-he-eats-the-liquid-he-drinks-and-now-the-air-he-breathes-HEALTHY. ugh

2. Homeschooling. I am partially responsible for the growth, enrichment, learning, exposure, entertainment, and heart of a beautiful 8 year old girl. I made a promise to a 21 year old women who did this amazing job of growing this little girl in her tummy and then lovingly handing her over to me. I promised to do my very best for her - in honor of both of them. Wow. That little reality is kind of scary on some days and totally and completely overwhelming on other days.

3. Our house is for sale. Again or still, depending on your perspective. This means that we need to keep it clean. The kind of clean that people can come and open drawers and closets. Ooops.

4. Exercise. It's mostly been my constant companion for years. My entire teenage years and adult life. Not always perfect or hardcore. But with me just the same. Exercise has taken a sabbatical. Apparently leaving the building with funny. Gag. There are places on my body...specifically my butt and that icky area on my arms (that used to be triceps)...that have decided that they would like to change addresses. They have gotten the idea that it would be fun to live somewhere down south. Stupid body.

5. I'm headed to parent-teacher conferences for the little guy in just a bit. Think good thoughts - I need some good news.

First Day of Kindergarten

He started school this morning,
And he seemed so very small.
As I walked there beside him
In the Kindergarten hall.

And as he took his place beside
the others in the class,
I realized how all too soon
Those first few years can pass.

Remembering, I saw him as
He first learned how to walk.
The words that we alone made out
When he began to talk.

This little boy so much absorbed
In learning how to write.
It seems as though he must have grown
To boyhood overnight.

My eyes were blurred but hastily
I brushed the tears away
Lest by some word or sign of mine
I mar his first big day

Oh how I longed to stay with him
And keep him by the hand
To lead him through the places
That he couldn't understand.

And something closely kin to fear
Was mingled with my pride.
I knew he would no longer be
A baby by my side.

But he must have his chance to live,
To work his problems out,
The privilege to grow and learn
What life is all about.

And I must share my little guy
With friends and work and play;
He's not a baby anymore --
He's in Kindergarten today

And as exciting as this "first" day is,
the end is the best.
When the day comes to a close,
He falls asleep upon my chest.

Philly

We spent part of this past week in Philadelphia taking the Prince to see a Crohn's specialist. Here's a little recap...

Our flights were easy and on time. We did have to talk a lot about what would happen in just about any event while flying. What if we land in water? What if the plane catches on fire? What if we run out of gas? What if the plane gets broken? And the big finale...What if we crash? To which daddy says, "you will die." Nice.

We had to decide whether we wanted to take a taxi or the train to our hotel at 11:00 Saturday night. I voted taxi. The hubster voted train. I lost...serious shocker. The actual train ride was fine. Unique, but fine. The trip from the station to our hotel was not all that fine. We had a HUGE suitcase and several other bags, a tired 5 year old, and one parent that wanted to be sitting safely in a cab, and the other parent who made the mistake of asking questions like: "how do you think we get to our hotel from here?" Needless to say, the Prince may have learned some new words that he can blame directly on me. But in the end we got to our hotel safely.

We were all kind of munchy last night so we ran across the street (yep, at 11:30 pm with a 5 year old) to Chili's. I cannot believe that we traveled all the way to Philadelphia. No more.

We slept in until 10 on Sunday. It was a miracle as far as I'm concerned.

After we were all dressed and ready for the day, we headed out to find FOOD. Please, nothing we can eat at home. We chose Reading Terminal Market. It's been around since 1890-something. Awesome. We ate at Down Home Diner. Farm fresh everything. Honestly, the only reason I go on trips is for the food. The Prince inhaled his food and had to walk around outside to try and not puke up his breakfast. Nice. And, it stormed here so hard that people were taking pictures of the rain. Weird. It looked like a typical thunderstorm. Apparently not typical for Philly.


The only thing on the to do list for this trip was...The Lego Store. So...we decided to be parents of the year and take him. The store was 50 min. outside of Philly - by BUS!!!! Yepper, we took the bus. As in City Bus. Now we are from small town USA. We were dressed like tourists. We smelled like tourists. We talked like tourists. And we were the ONLY tourists on the city bus. When you travel with my husband, you get to meet everyone within earshot. And the bus was no exception. We made all kinds of great friends. In fact 2 of the strangers (they didn't know each other either) walked us into the mall and showed us the Lego store and acted as excited as we were to finally see it!! The bus ride took 2 hours b/c the expressway was closed due to weather. Yuck. It was a LONG journey. But we thought it was worth every second. We have a happy, happy little boy. The entire store was wall to wall people and only legos. It was pretty cool.

Our trip back to the hotel by bus was only 55 minutes. whew.

We decided that tonight was Pizza night. Our goal was to find the best pizza in Philly. I think we did it!! I called my brother and he did a little research for me. We found an out of the way place that has been family owned since 1918 or something crazy like that. Everyone that worked there was related and Italian and crazy fun!! The pizza was out of this world good and the HIGHLIGHT of my day. It was a BYOB restaurant and all kinds of people were coming in with coolers and bottles of wine. Too fun. We had nothing to drink so my hubby ran down the block to a bar and bought a six-pack of beer. Classy, huh? We loved it!!


After dinner we headed back to the hotel laughing and talking and loving every city minute. Our hotel is great and huge with 15 floors right in the heart of Center City. We got out of the hotel at the 8th floor and turned the corner and MY FIVE YEAR OLD CHILD hopped back on the elevator ALONE. We had no idea if he had gone up or down. I mean NO IDEA. My hubby jumped on the next one and headed down to guard the door to the city street and I just sat down and tried to figure out what we were gonna do.

In about 5 minutes...5 very long minutes...the doors opened and there was my husband holding a sobbing little guy. I've never been so angry and so happy to see a child in my entire life. Apparently, dialing 911 and chatting with the police wasn't enough drama for him. grrrr.

We spent one day touring some of the sights. We stood in line to see the Liberty Bell. The Prince wasn't really impressed. In the park there was a reenactment of the recruiting for the Continental Army. Kids could line up and learn how to march, salute, hold a gun, and charge! Once someone said gun, the Prince wanted in. However, the General said that anyone who did NOT follow orders would be shot. YIKES! There were a few tears on the battlefield. But now I know that the way to get him to follow orders is to threaten punishment by gunshot.


On Monday, we headed to Children's Hospital of Philadelphia to see the doctor. He was fabulous!! We were able to ask every question we had without any hurry. There is still some question about the Crohn's diagnosis. Over the next several weeks, we will get a confirmation on the diagnosis. We will make some changes to the medications that we are giving. We will treat and fix the bacteria he has been fighting for so long...once and for all. We left the hospital feeling on top of the world with a solid plan of action. Amen.

The rest of our trip revolved around food and sight-seeing. The city was cool. But I was so happy to pull into my little Midwestern town with wide open spaces.

99-111

Lately, my Prince has been picking up the phone and pushing numbers like crazy. Occasionally, he even answers the phone - which (if you know me in real life) is a big no-no around here.

We've had lots of conversations about 911 and when to call 911. My Prince is fascinated with anyone in uniform and especially those lucky enough to carry a real gun. gasp!!

I ran to the grocery store...

Which is commonly the first sentence to every good story in my house.

My hubby was home with the kids. And the story goes something like this:

Prince: "Daddy, I just dialed 99111 and hung up."

Daddy: "Are you serious? Cause if the police come they will take you to jail!"

Prince: "Really?"

Daddy: "No, not really. But they aren't gonna be happy."

At this point the phone rings, but we really do not answer the phone around here. The machine picks up and a voice begins talking that is impossible to understand. So my husband totally ignores the phone call. I guess you aren't supposed to ignore a phone call to your home after someone in the home has dialed 911 (or any combination of those numbers).

A few minutes later...Ding-Dong.

Yepper...the Police are at the door.

My precious son goes running full steam into the far corner of the house and hides under a desk in a full-out-snot-sobbing-mess. My husband goes to greet the police officer.

After being pulled out from under the desk, my son had to meet the Officer as well. When he was asked why he dialed 911, he said the he was practicing in case of a fire. So we feel pretty safe around here!

Final result:
~no one went to jail
~5 year old got a good lesson in when to call 911
~And us...? We are thrilled to know that the kid knows some numbers before heading off to Kindergarten!

For the sake of documentation.

Ugh, I am in a terrible mood. Actually terrible would be a step up from how I feel.

I haven't posted for a long time and I wanted to keep the documentation going, just in case I ever get back to regular blogging.

So here goes:

~My back hurts in a way that should be illegal. Ouch.

~It's the middle of summer and that means hot. I'm not a big fan of hot.

~Finally taught my 8 1/2 year old to ride a bike. It's a miracle!!! She has been absolutely opposed to riding a bike. I finally said, "If you learn to ride your bike, I'll buy you an Oreo milkshake." Her response was to get on the stinkin' bike and within 10 minutes ride clear down the street. She didn't even ride back home. She rode a block away and got off the bike and very anticlimactically asked, "So when do I get my ice-cream."

~My little guy gets to travel on an airplane for the first time ever when we take him to Philly to see the Crohn's specialist. If we can just keep him well until then. The pool has become a house of horrors for him. Apparently swimming pool = diarrhea. Not in the actual pool (thank you Jesus) but it's a move it or loose kind of emergency for sure.

~The big fluffy puppy is a doll. But the damn thing has persistent diarrhea. The vet said yesterday, "Well I suppose she could actually have colitis." As in the same freak auto-immune disorder that my 5 year old has. You have got to be kidding me...

~I've decided to start reading some Jane Austen books - just to get my geek on a little. It's been shewn, if you begin to be desired to chuse to start reading some Austen, your previously suitable brain may begin to explode.

~August is just around the corner. The princess will be joining me for another year of homeschooling. Our curriculum arrived. It was a cross between being a little like Christmas (me) and prison boot camp (her). All those boxes of books, paper, and lesson plans!!

~August will also be the start of Kindergarten for my Prince. He will be leaving the premises for school. We are all a little nervous. He is very ready from a verbal standpoint. He can talk and reason and talk some more. However, there are a couple of things that he hasn't quite figured out that make me a little nervous. Teeny-tiny things like: wiping, ABC's, numbers, writing, minding, and the little rule of "friends don't hit friends." Hmmmm, what on earth have I been doing these past 5 years???

Alrighty...that about sums it up.
later gators.

Aunt Karen

I am apart of a very small family. My mother has one brother. My father has one sister. That means I have 2 uncles and 2 aunts. Both of those couples had 2 children - 4 cousins total. It's crazy small. Everyone goes to graduations and weddings and funerals.

This week will be no exception.

My Aunt Karen died this week. She was 68. She was diagnosed with cancer last year, and she fought with all of her might and with very little complaining.

My mom and I were able to spend this last weekend at her bedside. She was sleeping most of the time, but the few moments she was awake will be precious moments that I will carry with me forever. Even in her final days she was funny and strong! I'm going to miss her on this earth.

I have lots of memories, and I wish that I could get each of them into a bullet point to put in this post. I doubt I will accomplish that. But here's a start:

~Her towels smelled awesome!! Fabric softener and I loved it.

~I remember her eating cereal before bed when we would visit. The only adult I knew that had a bedtime snack.

~Pink nails!

~She called the women in her life, "babe" and it always made me feel special.

~Christmas was always great b/c she never forgot to send us a gift!

~The food at Aunt Karen's house was always great!

~When I had to cook breakfast food for 40 people one time Aunt Karen stepped in and totally showed me UP in the kitchen!

~She always made my mom smile.

~I have vivid memories of waking up in the mornings that we visited and hearing the adults laughing and the smell of coffee and bacon.

~They traveled in a motor home. I thought it was the coolest thing I had ever been in!

~The summer I met my husband, the first family members I wanted him to meet included Aunt Karen!

She was a perfect Aunt.

It is possible that this theory is true??

Most of me does not believe this theory, but the other small (albeit rapidly growing) part of me wonders if it is possible.

Anyone wanna do a little freakish animal/people socialization research project?

My friend Steph has been telling me for years that pets take on their environment. As in, they become like their owners in some way.

Yeah, I thought it was just one of those weird things people said too.

Then we got Macy 3 years ago. She is a Lhasa-Poo. [Little side note: the Poo part is to keep shedding at a very minimum. It works! Apparently you can put a little bit of poo in just about any animal and cause it to stop shedding.] But I digress. So we got Macy. She is Hyper with a capital H. I figured it was a downfall of the poo. She is very, very smart. Will do just about anything for a treat. She is unnaturally attached to certain things. And by unnaturally I mean that when she sees said items, she can hyper-focus like no other animal I've ever seen. She loves adults and jumps into the laps of strangers within seconds. She doesn't seem to mix well with her peers. And when people mess with her or try to change her plans...well she is downright nasty. But, when it's time to put her in bed - she goes and she sleeps very well. Not a peep until morning.

Does this description sound familiar? If you know my family, you may think I am describing the dog version of my oldest child.

Steph says, "I told you so."

I say, "whatever just a coincidence."

Then we got Izzy 4 weeks ago. She is a Goldendoodle. Thank goodness someone wised up and she's not a Golden-Poo. But same concept applies to Izzy and the doodle part. No shedding!! She is delightful. Best puppy I've ever been around. Very calm. Very low energy. She plays, but only for brief bursts of time, and then she needs a good long rest. I'm not sure I've ever seen a dog drink more water than this dog drinks. She has a big poochy tummy. She loves to cuddle, and is never grumpy or touchy when I try to pet and hug her. She eats LARGE amounts of food. She is a much bigger puppy than most puppies of her kind. She is incredibly talkative. So much so that the vet even said, "Wow - this dog is very verbal." Emphasis on the "very." When she got her puppy shots she cried for a good 2 minutes after the shots were finished. When I tell her no, she barks at me. When she is lonely, she whines. Literally, she talks-a-lot. And (wait for it...) she has diarrhea. Not just your run of the mill diarrhea. It's got blood in it. She poops a LOT as in often, and a LOT as in amount. She has been on 4 different rounds of medications up to this point and we've had her for 4 weeks. She is sensitive to certain dog food and is currently only tolerating a special diet. For the love.

Does this description sound familiar? If you know my family, you may be peeing on yourself right now.

Steph isn't surprised cause she already believed in this theory years ago.

I say, "stop laughing and come give me a hand. Clearly I need some serious help here."

P.S. As I was typing this blog post. My two children got into a fight and the Lhasa-Poo actually bit the Goldendoodle...I mean my Princess literally bit my Prince.

HELP!!!!!!!

Conversation between siblings.

Her: (very calm voice) "You only bother me because I give you a reaction. I am not going to give you a reaction anymore."

Him: " What is reaction mean?"

Her: "It's like when I hit you or scream when you do something. But I'm not doing it. I'm just gonna ignore you."

Him: "But I'm not doing it. I'm just gonna ignore you."

Her: (throwing a toy at him)

Him: (walking away) "I fink that was a reaction."

Current Count

I am a nurse - and good thing. I pass out a lot of pills to my current tribe of disease-infested family members. And by family members, I am including the dogs. Yes, the dogs take meds as well.

As of today the count for pills is:
Doggy #1 - 2 per day for ear infection
Doggy #2 - 1 per day for diarrhea
Prince Talks-a-lot - 6 per day for Crohn's Diseas
Princess Moves-a-lot - 12 per day (don't ask)
Me - 1 and sometimes 2 depending on the day. ( I bet you don't need to ask)

The pharmacy LUVS us!

Ok internet, I'm counting on you.

We got a puppy. Did you know I love puppies?? Did you know that I'm not a big fan of dogs.

Are you trying to connect the "rational" dots right now??

Don't

But seriously, she's really cute and super cuddly.

So here's the thing my dear internet. When I begin to complain (as I tend to do) point me gently in the direction of this post. Help me to remember that I chose this. Remind me that she is so cute. Tell me that my kids LOVE her. And when all of that fails - LIE! Any lie will do, but you need to do this one thing for me.

Hugs and big slobbery kisses...
jamie

Because there isn't enough drama...

I had a massive dizzy spell a couple of mornings ago. I found out later in the day that I am, in fact, NOT DYING. At the time, however, I had no idea what was wrong with me. I am the only adult in the house. It is 7:30 a.m. I am getting in the shower. And it hits. Feels like I am on a carnival ride. I grab onto the wall and everything starts to go black. Yikes! So I do what any normal person would do, and lay right down on the bathroom floor (big gulp). Yes, naked! The Princess walks in and takes one look at me and says, "What exactly are you doing?" This is pre-Ritalin -- which is not so calm and quiet...otherwise known as God help us all stay alive until the Ritalin kicks in. So she goes into full-fledged freak-out which includes bringing me the phone(to call Papa for some grown-up help), and a pillow(in case I wasn't comfortable...cause really, once she gave me the pillow I could say like this all day), and the dog(not so helpful), and some breakfast(cause I typically eat breakfast laying on my back on the bathroom floor, naked), and a water...All I want are some panties! I hear the Prince coming - shoot! - so I grab a towel with my toe, and manage to cover myself so as not to scar him for life. Every time I moved a fraction, I started to spin so hard that I am sure I am gonna puke, and I am a little afraid that I am gonna pass out and leave the kids totally unattended. When he comes in I ask for some clothes, and he pitches right in. The first pair of underwear he grabs are thong underwear (that I don' t really wear anymore for obvious reasons) and he just keeps twisting them around and around trying to figure them out. So finally, he throws those on the floor and grabs some "real" panties. Whew. Next came the bra, shorts, and a t-shirt. I am able to get dressed while laying completely flat on the bathroom floor. This is a skill that I didn't know I had but one I am all too glad to have discovered...just in the nick of time -- because within 3 minutes, my dad walks into the room.

He wants to know what he needs to do first.

My answer: Get the RITALIN!!

p.s. As it turns out a good Chiropractor can snap, crackle, and pop the dizziness right out of ya.

The end.

I actually took a picture of poop!

It's true. I'm not ashamed. Just in awe! My son has nothing private in his life...and this includes his pooh. Today I took my digital camera into the bathroom and snapped a picture. I'm not really sure what I'm gonna do with said photo. I'm guessing no GI doc in the country wants to see a photo of a 5 year old's poop. But, I'm going for broke here...so what can I lose.

We are still in the thick of a Crohn's debacle. In addition, he (my sweet 5 year old) has been tortured with a nasty bacterial infection in his gut that has required $1,200.00 worth of antibiotics - for 10 days. TWELVE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!

My next obsession is getting more input from additional docs in the GI community. We are headed to Omaha next week. Additionally, I am trying with all of my might to get an appointment with the "main dude" at Children's Hospital in Philadelphia. Apparently, you have to sell a kidney or pledge your plasma for life to get anyone in any hospital facility to move quicker than a three-toed-sloth in the middle of a Brazilian rainforest. I am simply asking for a few medical records and that process alone has taken 12 phone calls, 4 faxes, and 1 gallon of white wine. For. the. love.

Girls!

A "too-fast" trip to Austin for a Girl's Weekend!

A week with an old friend!

And by old I mean that we've been friends for a long time...but whatever...teeheehee

Happy Spring!

Extreme Survival Tip

If you have cold feet. And if you happen to have a Ziploc baggie around. And if you happen to need to pee. Apparently, you can pee into the baggie (in theory) and zip it up tight. And apparently, if you put it on your cold feet, it helps.

And if you do this...and you live in my house and/or you stay with your grandparents when you little brother is in the hospital...hypothetically speaking...when not in use, the pee bag can be stored behind the toilet on the floor. And you will probably need one at each house. Cause feet can get cold without much notice and you will want to be prepared.

A little trip to the hospital.

After a long day and night and many, far too many, IV sticks...my little prince needed to get out some aggression on a willing victim. He was given a bear and some "doctor stuff" to try his hand at saving lives.

This, that, and nothing much.

~I'm enduring frequent visits from my old friend Migraine. It's really starting to make me mad. I wonder if anger is a suitable defense against migraines?

~I've thrown myself all into an exercise program...again. Not pretty. The kicker?...it doesn't have instant results.

~I trimmed my bangs yesterday. 364 days of the year my bangs get longer. This one day - the day after I've taken it upon myself to cut them...they shrink overnight. I look ridiculous. My hubby walked into the bathroom as I was drying my hair and he just started laughing. Great.

~I've been struggling with sleeping over the last several months. I'm not an insomniac, I just toss and turn a lot at night. And just recently I discovered a little trick that has me sleeping like a baby all night. A really big pillow on my feet. Is that the dumbest thing you've ever heard?

~My Princess has taken to "speaking" in Spanish to anyone with dark skin. She is not learning Spanish, she watches Dora.

Shocked

We are really, really in the groove with the homeschooling stuff. I have to admit that I am shocked at how much I am loving it. Now, before you get the wrong idea, it's hard. And by hard I mean...hAAAARRRRRDDDD. We spend many days working more on behavior and respect than on reading, writing, and 'rithmatic. But at the end of the day, I have loved it! I've said it before and I'll say it again...my little Princess with her "passion for life" is gonna get into trouble every day for the way in which she chooses to express her passions. So, if someone is gonna get really mad at her each day - it may as well be me (or is it might as well?).

So that's it. That's where we are. That's what we are doing. And blogging has become my long lost friend. Sad.

Happy Birthday Kansas!

Apparently, when you begin the process of homeschooling a child - you also begin to do very odd "teacher" type things to keep the days fun.
Today is Kansas Day and we started it off with a "Sunflower" breakfast!

Big guy versus little boy

My prince - is 5 now! And he is a very big guy...just ask him. His latest obsession is Disney and all of the "big boy shows" that I should probably NOT let him watch. If you also suffer through Disney shows at your house, you know all about "Zack and Cody". If you don't know about "Zach and Cody" count your blessings.

So my big guy is still my little boy (we just keep that a secret)

Here's a little conversation that unfolded this morning.

Him: "Mommy, can you turn on the TV!"

Me: "After the news."

Him: "Arghhh, you watched the news last night!!! (stomp, stomp, stomp)

Me: (happy and content at the sound of my children stomping away as I enjoy the rest of the news)

Him: "Moooooommmmmmy!! I WANT TO WATCH ZACK AND CODY!!"

Me: "Ok, let me see what's on." (flipping on PBS just in time for Curious George)

Him: "OH! This is soooo much better than Zack and Cody!"

History

Yesterday was really fun. I sat on the couch beside my girl and watched history being made as Pres. Obama became number 44! We live in "republican-palooza" so our views aren't shared by the majority. Still, to be able to see 2 million people fill the National Mall, to feel the buzz of excitement, and to hear a speech that will be in the history books is awesome.

My little home school.

ARHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!

I chose this, I chose this, I chose this, I chose this.

Take a deep breath.

I chose this, I chose this, I chose this, I chose this.

I am loved.

Go - on read THIS
I'll wait.

Yep, that's my dad. In the midst of my tears, hysteria, and complete freak-out...he stepped up. I asked him to teach history. He said sure. I tried to teach math myself and it's HHHAAAARRRRRDDDDD!!! (Not the actual math part, the teaching of it to a child with ADHD can bring me to my knees.) So dad offered to help with math too. Yes! And still when I had a melt-down and thought I would throw in the towel completely, he gave me a pep-talk that combined some "tough-love" with some "whatever-you-need-I'm-here" components.

From day one it's been "daddy's sweetheart" and I couldn't be more blessed!

Things

I got this tag on facebook...it's something about 16 random facts about me. To be honest, I couldn't figure out how to follow the rules. Facebook is a little heavy on the rules. But it got me thinkin' about a similar post on my (long forgotten) blog. So here it is...random things about me.

1. I don't do well with being told what to do. Like when it says "16 random things about me", well that just makes me mad.

2. I gag at snot especially when it is coughed up, blown out, or hanging in some one's nose. I put my kids in time-out for nose-picking. And I'm a nurse - go figure.

3. I don't like dogs. They smell and drool and sneeze and pooh and pee and vomit and bark and lick their own....(you get the picture).

4. I seem to be able to "die to myself" for the needs of my kids.

5. Our dog's name is Macy

6. My favorite food is ice-cream - specifically Ice-cream cake from DQ.

7. I got married in 3rd grade to my boyfriend - on the playground - with a wedding ceremony, vows and rice - the other 3rd grade kid that acted as the pastor is now an actual Pastor.

8. I am now a homeschooling mom.

9. I do NOT enjoy children that are ages 3 and 4 - mine or yours.

10. I hate to dust.

11. I want to be that girl who loves dressing up and wearing make-up and putting on beautiful jewelry. But honestly, it's all too much work.

12. I LOVE, LOve, Love birthdays. Can someone tell my husband.

13. I thought boxelder bugs were called "republicans" until I was 20 years old. Thanks dad.

14. I don't cry OFTEN, but when I do - watch out.

15. I hate to answer the phone.

16. I cannot remember the details of anything I read or see.

17. I love to swim!

18. I do not remember dates but I would do anything for my friends and family.

Please stay with me...

I'm coming back - I PROMISE. It's been a little hairy here! see you soon.

No one can call us boring!

I have a friend who says that drama just seems to find certain people. Shoot!

We've had a few changes recently and a few GLORY! moments. I'm feeling really grateful for bullet points at the moment!

~I am now officially a homeschooling momma! Never thought I would say that - trust me.

~My homeschool-ER is adjusting to the idea in short bursts of realization that she gets a lot of 1-on-1 attention and LONG passing periods! =)

~My Prince had his Christmas program and he sat still, sang the songs, smiled at me, and looked like a normal 5 year old. I have never, in all my life, been so thankful for average (mean, median, or norm).

~My hubby is a SAINT and came home with a case of white wine! To be enjoyed over dinner - which he cooked!

~I have the best friends! I've said it before but I'm sayin' it again...Barn-building friends are those people who show up when your crap all burns down around you and they just start building it back up with you and for you...no questions asked. Over the last 2 weeks, I have gotten unconditional support from: my family (what would I do without my family!), the girls I get to see every week (you've talked me through this thing), the Java Girls (why do you have to live so freakin' far away), my Church family (who put schedules aside to listen to me process), and long-lost friends (who still use my middle name just because it's always been that way!). Thank you doesn't cut it!

~I'm a sucker for Christmas traditions! This year I am just trying to stick with the tradition of getting out of bed each morning! It's working out pretty well!

~Our house is still "for sale" but maybe not for much longer. Because quite honestly, enough is enough.

Ho, Ho, Ho!!! Merry Christmas!

We interrupt this photo blog...

For a nervous breakdown.

Our daughter has attended a small private Christian school (remember this ?) from day one of her school life. We chose this school for lots of reasons. I firmly believe that if any environment could be supportive, loving, strong, and sure it was this environment. The downside however, is that the school does not have a "special education" program. So, as long as our kiddo and the school could manage with her in a regular classroom environment, we were all good. As of today, she is home...not at school. The question is on the table - "Can she continue to attend the school that feels like home away from home to her."

I do not embrace change well. I do not go down without a fight, especially when it involves my kids and their hearts. We are tired. We are anxious about the future. And we are learning to trust a plan that we didn't make.

We are spending our time praying and crying in equal portions.

This child that I've been given is amazing. She is strong, busy, tough, and exhausting. But more importantly - she is creative, joyful, loving, bright, bubbly, funny, compassionate, quick to apologize, and quick to laugh! I cannot imagine having to go even one day without her light in my home.

Girl's trip.

2nd annual Christmas shopping/wrapping trip with my girls. Included: shopping, dinner, movie, wrapping, pajamas, hotel, Christmas music, FUN!

My quilt

We.Are.FAmily!

It's the WEEKEND!!!! Yahoo!

My foundation

They have been married for 45 years and they make it look easy. They are happy, reasonable, generous, loyal, and supportive without conditions or limits. I've always known that I was safe and loved.
The only difficult thing about these two, is trying to follow in their footsteps.

Welcome to my Photo Blog...

Words are a little hard to come by these days...as you can tell by the lack of bloggy blatherings!

So, December will be the month of photos! Enjoy.

Sunday Blatherings...

My hubby is home from his "ocean fishing trip to N. Carolina." Yep, that's right. He treated himself to a few days off of work and a plane ticket and a salt-water fishing trip with a friend. This is how the conversation went:

Him: "Matt invited me to N. Carolina for a fishing trip. It would use up 3 vacation days and the cost of a ticket. What do think?"

Me: "I'd rather you didn't go."

Him: "Oh."

Fast forward a few days.

Him: "I got a ticket to N. Carolina."

Me: "oh."

Fast forward to today.

Me: "Welcome home! How was the trip?"

Him: "It was really fun! I'm glad I went."

Me: "So, fishing on the ocean...wow! How was it?"

Him: "Ummm, errrrr, uhhhhh, fine."

Me: "What did you catch?"

Him: "(cough) one (cough) fish (cough) about two (cough) inches long (cough)."

Me: "......................."

Can't say I laughed out loud to his face, but I may have smiled and snorted - cause I'm mature like that.

In other news:

~it's cold here and I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it!

~my kids seem to think they are in charge and that,...I don't love so much

~we did "Thankful for you" gifts for teachers and the Princess wrote that she was thankful for her Principal because she liked his office. hmmmm....

~I guess tomorrow I will be checking into why she likes her Principal's office.

~the Prince has taken up using handkerchiefs instead of Kleenex. This is causing extreme gag reflex issues for me.

~I got in touch with my inner teenage self today and slept in until 11:00am...and I'm tired again. I think I'm going thru a growth spurt. Nice.

Wish I may, Wish I might, Get the wishes I'm wishing tonight.

I wish:

~that I didn't worry so much.

~that I could consider it pure joy to face trials of many kinds.

~that I will always remember how lonely it feels to raise a child with differences...so that I do my part when I see another mother struggling.

~Chicago and Austin were just a couple of miles down the road.

~my actions were always a good model of for my kids to copy.

~I lived my faith in a way that left no room for doubt.

~"the way it is" could be just as great as "the way it was."

~she will get enough hugs today to remember how loved she is.

~he will make a new friend today so that he can feel as important as he is.

~two very special women could somehow know that I am taking my job - as a mother - very seriously and I am doing all that I can to honor the decision they both made.

Dear God,

It's me, Jamie. I know that I've been a little quiet lately, but I've been really busy trying to raise these kids you've given to me. And I'm sorry to say that I've also forgotten to consult with you as I go about that job.

Well, thank you for charging right back into our home through my little, I mean - BIG-5-year-old, prince.

He's sick, as you know. And for some reason, "sick" around here brings on lots of questions about Heaven. I understand that it's a little extreme to be talking about Heaven in the face of a little fever and headache, but still. My Princess is going through a slightly dramatic phase right now and when she heard that her brother was "sick," she immediately asked "if he was going to die." Enter Heaven...

So God, I did good by You and my little Prince now thinks Heaven is a totally cool place. I'm counting on you to hold off confirming that to him until a much, much, much later date. I did my best to talk about Your Kingdom as being filled with goodness, truth, kindness, peace, joy, love. He is mostly convinced that it's full of angels with swords and angels that fly and big-huge-warriors fighting the bad guys - and he is very impressed!

He has a few questions. This is a big surprise, I'm sure. How will he get to Heaven? Will it hurt? Are you nice? What if he goes without me, will he miss me? Will he get snacks? Who else is there? Can he fly on the back of an Angel? Are you big or little? How many 'fighters' are in Your army, like 5 or 7 or 10 fousand? Will he have the same eyes, ears, and penis?

So I tried to hang with him on the questions, but the penis one really threw me, your turn.

Grace and Peace,
Jamie

Happy 5th!

Buddy - you are truly the coolest 5 year old I know!! Happy Birthday to my little Prince!

The end.

So glad it's over! Wow, it was a long, loNG, LONG election season.

That said...

Rock on America - you did good!

Little of this and a little of that.

*I just sat down to look though some pictures, and I realized that I haven't taken any pictures to speak of since the first day of school shots. Yikes. So be on the look out for new pics of the little ones!

*I'm going to attempt to make a quilt. Yes, you read right. A quilt! But apparently the type of quilt I'm gonna try is the "beginners, not really a quilt, quilt" or something like that. I have no desire to quilt for the hobby of it or the sake of the craft. I do have respect for quilters, but no desire. I just really want a cool blanket in my house that isn't pink (for some reason we have a lot of pink stuff) and now I get to say, "I made that!"

*My house is still for sale. No showings. No offers. arghhhh!

*Now stop reading blogs, and go VOTE!

Just when you think you have it under control...

Well, we got to take a little field trip to the ER last night. Lucky for me it was a Wednesday and my friend was working at the hospital so we had a little moral support, a hug for Princess, and a butt-load of stickers when it was all said and done.

The kids got into a big 'ol fight that started with yelling...progressed to Princess kicking Prince in the face...and ended with Prince launching a 35 year old metal toy tractor at Princess. It hit her square in the middle of her forehead. fyi...glue is totally the way to go. In her panic she yelled, "can you see my brain." Guess next time I'll consider better language than, "it's not that big it's just a deep hole."

I might just lose my mind.

So - I have strong political views. But I have an even stronger and much (hopefully) a more developed sense of love and respect for people. Since the two don't always mix, I'm careful. Really, really careful. I can understand and even (in most cases) appreciate both sides of the isle. My top, tOP, TOP priority is to make decisions based on what I think is best for the way I am wired and what I value, knowing full well that everyone else will be doing the same and we will NOT all agree. I'm good with that.

Here's where I draw the line.

My princess is 7. She's in 2nd grade. She has (what appears to be) high anxiety at times but doesn't always show it well. She is also a very sensitive thinker. Last night she crawled up in my lap and with tears in her beautiful gray eyes, she said, "I heard at school today that Obama kills babies and that is glad when they can't breathe and die."

Inside my soul I wavered between wanting to scream and withering a little that my girl was being introduced to the idea of abortion in any way, shape or form. SHE IS 7 YEARS OLD.

As I looked into her face I thought about the sacrifice her birthmother made by NOT aborting her and giving her life. My heart is full of love for this girl and I am so glad to be her mommy. So I understand being passionate about life. And I understand struggling with the idea of abortion. And at the EXACT same time I think of girls and/or women who find themselves in a crisis pregnancy situation and my heart aches for each of them as they struggle to make decisions and wrestle with their options. This isn't a topic I talk about easily because it's not a topic that gets talked about while still maintaining love and respect for everyone.

Back to the the conversation with my daughter, she is sitting on my lap...scared and confused about the idea of anyone running for president killing babies. See, she doesn't know or understand. She can't. What she imagines is a man wanting to be in charge of our country, running around personally killing babies and finding joy in that. When I asked my daughter who told her this, she told me it was a boy in her class. In her 2nd grade class.!.!.!

Come on folks. This is awful. Not just a little slip-up. It's just plain awful. If the motivation for being vehemently apposed to abortion is because the belief is that abortion is wrong from a moral, ethical and religious viewpoint; then it is my opinion that the way we treat other people needs to follow that same code. To teach a child that "Obama kills babies", that "he is happy when babies die", and that "he is a bad man," seems to violate some moral, ethical, and religious viewpoints on how we talk about and love one another.

In the end, as I waded through this conversation with my daughter, we decided together that we should pick a candidate for president based on what we like about him rather than what we hate about his opponent. That, and "which one is more handsome" (straight from a 7 year old point of view).

Retirement and blogs

My dad is officially retired and lately he has been doing a little writing. Today he handed me a stack of political essays that he's written...nothing like an election year to fire him up! So with a little encouragement he has started a blog. Check it out. But beware...it packs a political punch.

http://www.politicalramblingsfromjim.blogspot.com

And now my heart is filled with so much sugar.

Just because the Prince uses "butt" in every other sentence we apparently assumed to much when we figured that he knew what an actual butt was. For the record (and it may sound prudish) I don't like to hear my kids say butt. They say it loud and often and it's just not necessary. So we mostly say bottom. Ranks right up there with tinkle and toot.

Anyway, I was getting myself dressed in the privacy of my own bathroom this morning when the Prince came bursting in. I was in my jeans and bra. The prince took one look at me and said, "mommy if you don't put a shirt on when we go to school everyone is gonna be able to see your butt." I paused for a moment to look myself over, wondering if maybe the jeans were a little on the "too" low-rise side. When I was completely sure that in fact my actual butt was not showing, I asked my little prince where my butt was. He pointed to my belly button.

Interesting thing is, now I'm going back through all the times I've heard him talk about his butt. I'm wondering if the poor child is completely confused about why I won't let him say butt but I'll let him show it to the entire world at the swimming pool or when he is playing the yard. Or all the times he has threatened to kick someone in the butt...?? It all gets very confusing.

I told him that butt was another name for bottom. And he laughed and boldly said, "I don't believe you."

Figures.

He really is a nice guy.

Today both of my kids were away from home for 2 hours...at the same time! Two quiet and beautiful hours. My hubby and I went for a long walk and talked non-stop. I had forgotten how nice he is.

If you love my kids - this is for you.

Dear Friends,

I have been thinking about this a lot. I've been trying to write this post for a few weeks and I just didn't know how to put it all in words. But as I think more about it, I realize that I cannot let any more days go by without somehow (no matter how sloppy) getting it out.

Who I am today is in large part due to the love and support I got from my family and from the people that surrounded my family. Mostly in the form of my parent's friends. Even as a teenager, I would see these folks in the store or at the mall and they would speak and smile and make me feel important and special. I knew that these folks expected me to be good and nice and genuine. And even though I did many things that I would NEVER want these special people to know about, I made a lot of decisions knowing that lots of folks cared about me and expected more of me. Ultimately, I had a huge group of cheerleaders and I was always aware of their love for me.

My kids are awesome. But they make me worry. They make me tired. I want them to be perfect, and they are not. I want them to be the "good" kid and make good decisions...and they do sometimes (and I'm so proud!) and then there are other times...when they take me down. So to say that I nEEd people to love my kids, doesn't even begin to touch the truth. I realize now more than than ever before that it may be the key to my survival. I cannot imagine living this life and raising these kiddos without people who love my kids (in spite of what they act like or what their diagnosis is or what I do or don't do as a mother).

For those of you that love my kids and surround my family and affirm our efforts and "do" life with us...Thank you! You will never, ever know your impact. I pray that I do the same for you.

If I had something to say, you'd be the first to know...

But in reality, I can't think of anything to write about. Around here, we've been keeping the house clean. Not managing to sell it despite my best house-keeping skills. The kids have been - kids...shockingly-normal-acting-kids, which gives me absolutely NO blog material. And I have been managing to get out of bed in spite of my overwhelming desire to stay in bed every.single.day. Whew, I am now boring the snot out of myself just writing this.

So, the moral of this tedious story is...I'm taking a little bloggy-break until something comes along and shakes us up.

xoxo

To say I've been freaked out for the last few months is a major understatement.

She's back. My girl is back. This fact alone has big implications but I'm not going to complain - just notice.

Over the last few months I have watched my child disappear. I really felt like I was loosing her to something I couldn't name. We questioned lots of disorders and diagnoses. Aspergers? Bipolar disorder? etc., etc. My heart has been in agony. My head has been swimming with the possibilities and reasons why and how to fix it all.

She has always been a handful. Hyper doesn't begin to describe her. She pushes the limits. Questions and defies authority. Thinks outside of the box. And causes me to think through and plan out each interaction I have with her. But she has done it all with a constant joy, a contagious giggle and a sparkle that just won't quit.

When the joy left we worried but did our best to help her. The giggle was replaced by silence or anger. And then one day I woke up and realized that my girl had no sparkle. I freaked completely out.

But here's the thing. The good news. The sparkle is back! At this point it turns out that it was best case scenario instead of the worst. Her sparkle was temporarily on a holiday, but it's back! She's shinin' her light all over our house, her school, our church and quite frankly anywhere she goes. I get that she is too much right now. Too hyper, too talkative, too many ideas. I get it. But honestly, I am so relieved to have her back. I am so thankful to see the child I thought I had lost, that the rest of it can just wait a little while.

This is how you know that you've shoved your marriage to the back burner for the sake of the kids.

The prince and I were driving today and I had to slow down for a couple to walk across the street in front of us. The couple was holding hands. My 4.year.old watched with a lot of interest as they passed in front of our car. Silly me, I thought he was watching them because they were covered in tattoos and piercings. Nope.

Him: "Mommy, how come those grown-ups are holding hands with each other?"

Me: "Because they love each other and they like to hold hands."

Him: "To cross the street?"

Me: "Anytime, they just like to hold hands."

Him: frowning deeply

Me: "Mommy and daddy hold hands sometimes because we love each other."

Him: silence

Me: "Buddy have you ever seen daddy and mommy hold hands with each other?"

Him: "Nope."

Time to change some things around here.

I CANNOT SPELL

Raise your hand if you noticed that I spelled threatened like this: "treatened"

Now feel guilty if you didn't send me an e-mail letting me know. Come on friends. It's like letting me walk around with something in my teeth or worse...hanging out of my nose.

In other news:

Today I made homemade applesauce and I am now eating it by the bushel-full - literally. Wow, it's amazing.

The other thing I did today was a field trip with the Prince's preschool class. We drove to the fire station and had some really nice firefighters show us around. They [fireman] were very nice. They [lots of 4 and 5 year old kids] were really well behaved. But honestly, it was a crazy adventure. Talking to a group of 4 and 5 year old kiddos is not the same thing as normal brained humans. These firefighters, bless their hearts, spent some time giving some very interesting info and some freaking scary info. At one point the nice firefighter asked how much the kids thought the suit weighed. One child answered 2o. The firefighter assumed that the child meant pounds but for real he may have meant potatoes. The next kiddo answered 60-fousand. The firefighter just stared at him. Next on the tour we got to see the jaws of life and some serious steel cutters in the event that we are in an accident and our cars were smashed completely and on fire and the firefighters needed to get us out very quickly. At this point the kids that weren't clinging to their moms were staring at the firefighter with HUGE WIDE EYES. At one point a little boy said, "what are you gonna do to us?" It was a little bitty lesson in horror and death. Good times.

The good news: my son did fine. He stayed with the kids. He minded the teacher. He was respectful. He didn't freak out in any way. This is NOT my first field trip to the fire station. I've been twice before with the Princess. Sadly, I cannot say the same about those trips.

***[a little note to my daughter: Dear Princess, if you read this blog at some point when you grow up and you feel in any way sad or disappointed that I would say such a thing about your trips to the fire station...well, you should. I love you until my heart wants to explode and I would do anything for you. But, quite honestly honey, you were awful at the fire station. xoxo Mom]

Well I'm off to eat more applesauce before the kids find it!

At the point that she threatened him with bodily harm...

My little guy is a thinker and a TALKER. He loves to ask questions and it's pretty common for him to still be mulling something over hours after the fact.

It was my turn to deliver a basket to a new family at our church. I took the Prince with me. We discussed what we would do when we arrived and what he was supposed to do. We were going to stay on the porch and speak for a minute. He could ask questions if he wanted and he needed to speak politely if they asked him questions. We were prepared, I thought.

Her: "Hi, it's nice to meet you!"

Me: "It's great to meet you all well! This is my son."

Her: "Hi there! How old are you?"

Him: "Four"

Her: "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Him: "I have a sister."

Her: "How old is she?"

Him: "Seven."

Her: "We have a four year old here at our house, when you meet her, she will talk your leg off!"

Me: "Oh, he likes to talk a lot too."

Him: "Mommy, I want to leave."

So he runs to the car and climbs in and sits for 10 more minutes like an absolute prince as I continue to visit with the very nice lady. She laughs because she thinks she has asked too many questions to him and scared him away. I quickly inform her that he will be filling me in on any thoughts he had as we drive away. Little did I know...

I climb back in the car and we take off towards home. He is unusually silent. After about five minutes, he says to me:

"Mommy, that lady said that someone at her house is gonna chop my leg off, but I don't know if they can do that or not."

Cause I know that you are dying for a play-by-play.

7:18: Awakened by the sweet sound of my daughter and my husband arguing.

7:30: C0ffee - cause seriously people it's freakin' early.

7:42: Begin the process of nagging and harping on the kids to get in the car already.

7:50: Explain for the bazillionth time that we are late to school and that the morning could be much more relaxing if everyone would just do as I say. For crying out loud.

8:09: Drop the Princess off at school. Wave from a LONG distance at the adults and pray that no body figures out that I am basically still in my pajamas.

9:00: Begin cleaning. 3 bathrooms, dusting the 2nd story, scrubbing the kitchen floor, 2 loads of laundry.

12:00: Shower. Gross

12:35: Fix lunch.

1:00: Force the Prince to L.A.Y. D.O.W.N.

***From 1 to 3 I'm sure that my activities involved very important mom/wife business and do not include mindless hours on the Internet. cough, cough.

And honestly the rest of the day is a blur that I am trying to forget. But it includes: gymnastics, and exercise class for me, more bossing the children around, and some chocolate.

Everyone talks about these years that fly by. I'm wondering when those years will arrive.

And here is where I loose all of my friends...but I make my dad very proud.

I watched the debate last night. Other than the few minutes when my kids totally freaked completely out because my attention was not solely on them.

So, my goal last night was to sit down with an open mind and listen to both candidates and begin to form my own opinions based on what they said and the way in which they said it. I have grown up in a very politically minded family. Politics were NOT on the back burner. When I registered to vote as an eager 18 year old, I registered Republican. My poor dad thought he had failed. However, the town that we live in is very, very conservative and very few democrats live here. The ones that do, only talk about it in dark alleys - at night - whispering.

Here's my problem...my dad is gonna love me anyway. I don't like dark alleys. It would be sooooo much easier for me to get behind John McCain for president. But I just cannot do it people. [For the record, I'm ducking now and wincing and kind of whispering]

In the end, my opinion of the debate doesn't matter because you can read any newspaper in the country or watch any major Tv channel and hear the opinions of really smart political analysts. Several websites help with fact checking to see who lied and weather it was a big lie or a little lie. It's all frustrating to be quite honest.

So I've decided to become a one issue voter. My issue is...dead. I will now base my vote on the person that is furthest away from dead. The end.

And I did it all with a straight face.

Him: "Mommy, how do you go pee if you don't have a penis?"

Me: "All girls have a body part that they pee with." [You've got to be kidding me, this conversation is NOT in any book on how to raise kids.]

Him: "So, if you don't have a penis how do you pee?" [He likes to ask the same questions in different ways, I think to trick me.]

Me: "I have a urethra and that is how I pee." [I wonder how soon I will get to hear the word urethra in public?]

Him: "So, can you pee only or do you have to poop every time you go potty." [I'm guessing that he is asking this because us girls SIT when we go to the bathroom.]

Me: "I can just pee. I don't have to poop each time I go to the bathroom."

Him: "Except why do you sit down." [Bingo!]

Me: "Because I cannot point my urethra at the toilet. You get to stand because you can point your penis at the toilet water." [Yes, I know that this is just a theory not often proven but still, the concept is that they are SUPPOSED to point the penis at the toilet.]

Him: "So, you don't have to point your penis down?" [Somehow I am not getting it across to him."

Me: "No buddy, because first of all I don't have a penis. And second of all, I cannot point something I don't have."

Him: "I wish I didn't have a penis." [I'm honestly not so sure where to take this one.]

Me: "Why not."

Him: "Cause it's so boring pointing my penis down and down and down. Also when I do lots of things at once it's not fun. Like when I go poopy and point my penis and stuff." [Lots of things going through my mind here...mostly I would like to further discuss the word stuff...]

Me: "Clifford the Big Red Dog is on Tv, hurry or you'll miss it."

We are selling it - again.

Every few months we decide to move. It's random but in the end we decided that if we keep wanting to sell the house it must mean that we need to "poop or get off the pot."

Today we are wildly cleaning out and hoping to have it on the market by Wednesday. ARghhhhhhh!!!!

The good news this morning is that our Prince got totally into the concept and decided he was D.O.N.E. with his toys. So he dumped them all into a storage tub with the direct instructions to "sell these." So, his room is clean. Wish it was that easy in every room.

A little note of thanks - I think

Dear 67 year old Wal-mart Employee,

I'm not sure if you will remember me, but I am the mom that you co-parented with at Wal-mart yesterday. You know, the one with the little boy that called me stupid - or correction - yelled that I was stupid. Oh, you do remember. Great! Well, this is just a little thank you.

First let me start by saying that your tan looked fabulous! Really, I mean it. I know that orange is "in" this fall and that particular shade looks great with your hair. Is it from a bottle or do you use a tanning bed somewhere? And your deep scratchy voice, it's totally working for ya. Seriously, I have been known to "light up" a time or two back in the day, but I didn't stick with it long enough to get that certain quality to my voice and now I'm really wishing that I had; cause it apparently scares the snot out of my son. Anywhoo...enough of the small talk.

When we came into the store yesterday, my son was acting like a little stinker and he was already a little put out that I wasn't promising him toys and candy in exchange for making him walk, on his own two legs, all the way through the store. Sigh. He picked up every item that was within his reach that had any kid-friendly decor on it at all. FYI - that's every single item. Right before we ran into you, he had grabbed a football and was begging for it. I asked him to put it back and he had to run clear down the isle to put it back. I just kept walking because frankly, I was trying to ditch him but it wasn't working. And then he spotted a lunch box. He grabbed it and yelled, "can I get this?" I just kept walking at which point he yelled, "STUPID MOMMY!" He had to raise his voice because I was clear at the other end of the isle. That is the exact moment you came around the corner. When you asked me "who's stupid?" I thought maybe we were gonna share a moment and have a good laugh. That's why I said, "apparently I am" and then laughed...alone. You just kept walking as if you hadn't even heard me. But then you walked up to my son and in your mean (well, I guess I'm not sure if that was your mean voice or your regular voice but whatever) voice you said, "You - BE NICE." It worked. The color drained out of his face. His eyes flew open. And I'm guessing his heart beat registered on the Richter scale.

I wasn't sure if I appreciated what you had just done or if I was pissed at you for being mean to a 4 year old. At any rate, the Prince followed me through the rest of Wal-mart quietly dodging every single adult. He didn't ask for one more toy. In fact the flashbacks lasted for the entire next hour while I was at an eye appointment. Everyone thought he was so sweet and mild mannered.

So bless you as you go through your days scaring little kids, cause every once in awhile you make a mommy smile.

Sincerely,
Jamie

Cause I'm mature like that...

My husband is actually a pretty good guy. He's clueless, but really a nice guy. Me...I'm a ruthless snot for 4 days a month, every single month, without fail. So when he chooses those exact 4 days each month to be a complete idiot and then is surprised by my rage, I am always amazed. I guess for the outside world looking in (aka you people) it could be assumed that he is always a complete idiot and it only bothers me 4 days a month. However, this is just not the case. I am bothered by him way more than 4 days a month. But the level of stupid hits award-winning on these 4 days. It could also be assumed that he is in fact not an idiot at all, but rather that I am just ultra-sensitive on these 4 days a month...and to those of you that assume that, youcanjustshutthehellupthankyouverymuch. I love him, I really do. I am glad that I am spending my life with him. And I honestly think out of all the women in the world, I am the winner when it comes to husbands. But really, FOR.THE.LOVE.

Just this morning when he came home from his hour (away from home) of working-out and said that he was headed to a football game after his shower, he had the audacity to question the slightly frustrated look on my face. As the discussion continued, it turns out that he believes that he spends as much time alone with the kids as I do and (the kicker) that he has to deal with heavy discipline equally as often as I do. Um...ooops, this may have been the wrong thing to say to me on this day of this month at this moment when both kids were in their bedrooms for doing unbelievably naughty things - while he was working-out.

For the record - as I'm typing this, guess where he is...? Yeah, well so what. I bet you anything that he feels really bad about saying something so stupid to me while he's sittin' at that football game.

What's really important

She started out as my babysitter and grew to be my friend. We've had more fun together than I can even begin to tell. My kids love her more than they love us. She has not missed a milestone yet. Everyone needs a friend like this.

Tonight she came over and hung out and the kids each needed a little "Cindy" time. When she went in with our Prince this conversation unfolded...

Prince: Are your married to B?

Her: No, I'm not married.

Prince: But I saw that he had a ring on his finger.

Her: Oh yeah he does but it's for football. It's a championship ring.

Prince: What's a Championship ring?

Her: It's a ring you get when you win a lot of games of football and are the best team.

Prince: I play soccer.

Her: Cool! Did you get a ring?

Prince: No, but we got snacks.

Her: Even better.

And then I ran off into the sunset

Helped my 7 year old ***finish (as in complete the job she had already started)***shaving her legs.

Check

Attended an exercise class that now has me wincing at every movement of my arms and doing a complete free-fall onto a chair when I sit down.

Check

Gave a thorough explanation of the difference between boys and girls - AGAIN. And answered several questions about the variety of bottom colors...don't ask.

Check

Had a nice little phone conversation with the Preschool teacher only to find out that my preschooler isn't quite "fessing-up" about the happenings at school. And by happenings I mean not *always* following directions, kicking, and grabbing toys away from unsuspecting kiddos. (I am not happy about this but I'm trying to take it in stride.)

Check

All in all pretty good day.

Check

Let the complaining roll

So I worked on Friday and Monday morning at the clinic. I will receive a small paycheck and as a bonus, strep throat. Ok, maybe not strep, but I do have a cold and a sore throat. So does my son. As if he doesn't have enough going on. And his is moving down into his chest, which means yet another Dr. appt. to somehow fit into our week and yet another medical bill. I know that our medical bills are super small beans by comparison, but it's frustrating just the same to see them rolling in.

Something is going on with our Princess. It's pretty typical to cycle through rough times with her; and each time I feel hopeless and scared and tired. The cycle passes and I forget just how bad it was and my energy is completely restored. I think it's called "mother love." Well, we are in a cycle right now that is B.A.D. And by bad I mean, she's angry, frustrated, oppositional, and hostile. She is my girl with a sparkle in her eye. The sparkle is gone. Something is wrong.

Back to the boy...the one with the cold. Remember he is on steroids? Well, he now has true blue "roid rage" and it's fabulous. Last week the butt-slapping was unique but tolerable. This week...he is crazy. Lots of punching and pent up emotion. Ughhhhh.

Really people, this is nuts. The meds we pass out in the morning are ridiculous! So I'm looking for some comic relief. I would also really love a little retail therapy, but that's not in the budget. So far I've chosen to start a new exercise program as therapy. As of today, when I sneeze my stomach hurts. When I type my arms hurt. When I sit down my butt hurts. And when I walk up the stairs my legs hurt. All in all - fun times.

How do they do it?

The weekend completely sucked. Lots of fighting (kids) and yelling (adults) with and at each other. I just kept appeasing myself with thoughts of Monday morning - at which time I would be heading in for the day to work! The grass is always greener folks.

I am officially a SAHM but lately I have said yes to some fill-in hours at the local medical clinic. I was a nurse, back in the day, and I still have a little of that knowledge rattling around in my head. When I worked, I was an O.B. nurse. So I've been stretched beyond my typical routine in the clinic, but I love it. I get to see a lot of people. Dipstick a lot of urine. Assist with a lot of poke and prods. Watch some minor procedures that involve pus. I totally dig this work. And honestly, I've needed to get out of the house. As long as I don't have to be around, look at, or deal with snot of any kind or type, I'm game.

Hubby and I planned and called and figured all the details out over the weekend so that I could head into work on Monday worry free. It went something like this: I would take Princess to school on my way to work. He would take Prince to preschool on his way to work. He would pick Prince up after preschool and take him home just in time for me to arrive for my lunch hour. I would have lunch with Prince and wait until friend/babysitter arrived. I would return to work. He would pick up Princess from school and drop her off at home. Friend/babysitter would stay with kids until I got home, at which time we would drink ourselves into a coma from all the plans it took just to work for 8 hours. For the love!

Here's how it actually went down: I slept in too late. He took Princess to school and hauled Prince with him. We freaked out and realized that Prince doesn't have preschool on Monday. We called my dad who graciously agreed to pick Prince up at 9:45 so that hubby could go to work. Papa picks up Prince. The phone rings, and Princess has slammed her face into a metal rack and cut clear through her lip....BLOOD and A HOLE IN HER FACE. Hubby takes off to get her and drive her to the pedi's office for...stitches in her face. Great. I manage to get off of work at noon and go pick up Prince and get home to spend the rest of the afternoon with the kids, instead of working. Cause really, what was I thinking?

Because he loves his momma.

We are 2 weeks into the steroids for the little guy. It's been fun to see my Prince go from a great lover of TV to a race-winning, butt-slapping, BOY. They tell me those little white pills that I give him every morning are steroids. But I now know the truth, they are testosterone pills. Just to torture me. He does not walk by me now without kissing me and/or slapping my butt and yelling, "love ya mommy." I'm hoping that behavior doesn't transfer to preschool.

Friends

I just got home from four days and three nights in Chicago with Joanna. It was so much fun and way too short. We laughed hard and stayed up late and talked until we both ran out of words - which is not an easy task.

I am completely overwhelmed at the thought of catching you up to speed on the weekend - because it's almost too much to tell.

Here are some (notice I said SOME) of the highlights:

~We spent the first evening with one of Joanna's friends and his darling wife. I got the privilege of hearing about his adoption story. It was really cool to connect with an adoptee and see how God always seem to work in the midst of adoptions in such a powerful way.

~I slept until 9:00 in the morning!

~Joanna has these amazing Java girls who have become special women in my life as well. On Sunday evening they all showed up, overnight bags in hand, for a sleep-over. Holy Cow! We laughed, ate a LOT of chips, drank some wine and some margaritas, laughed some more and stayed up until 2:30 for some of us and 3:30 for others.

~I ate great homemade food that I didn't have to cook. Yummy.

~The conversation never ever slowed down.

~I got to hang out with Joanna's kids and they are growing up into these completely cool people.

~We stopped in for a chat at the Java Family BBQ. This was perfect b/c I met the whole gang and I am considering moving to the Chicago suburbs. (I'm only kidding mom! But it is really fun to visit)

~I got a little tour of the rec complex and even better than that...I got to see an old friend. I am sad that I didn't get the chance to shake her hand and thank her, from the bottom of my heart, for her part in making my friend's life better - but still at least I got to see her. =)

~I got a little therapy time.

~And last but not least I had a blast MY true blue and cannot wait to see her again.

A note to my prince on his first day of Preschool

Buddy,
Seriously, knock it off with the growing up stuff. Cause it totally sucks.
Love,
mom

Denial is a beautiful thing.

I am having a little bit of an out of body experience. Oddly enough, I am extremely happy with it, and I may continue to live here for many days to come.

We are home from the Chidren's Hospital and well rested and still tired all at the same time. We have been given lots of information and I have heard it all. I am a nurse, so I have asked lots and lots of questions. The team of doctors and nurses were patient and kind to answer all of my questions. And then I asked most of the same questions over again. The thing is, I am not emotional about any of it. I am fine to talk. I can discuss the entire situation. But I feel nothing. I am not scared. I am not anxious. I am not crying. I am void of all emotions. It's great.

Here's the news. We checked into the hospital and tortured my very tolerant and very brave son. They started an IV, stuck an NG tube in, pumped his tummy full of a laxative, and caused him to have horrendous diarrhea for hours and hours. Then they gave him a mighty sedative and did an EGD and colonoscopy. This kid was a trooper. He coped in the only way he knew how and I was so proud of him. When he woke up from the procedure, he was very agitated, combative, screaming and crying for about 2 hours. It was miserable. I promised him all kinds of new stuff (which we had to make good on as soon as we were dismissed from the hospital) just to help him calm down. Once the anesthesia was out of his system, he did great. He was happy, talking, eating, and playing.

In the midst of all of this, a team of GI specialists informed us that they found patchy areas of bleeding ulcerations in my son's colon. This is not what a mother wants to hear. The Doctor took several biopsies and the results will be back in the next few days - we will know more then. In the mean time, the probable diagnosis is Crohn's. That was followed by about 3 more hours of information, talking, and teaching from several doctors and nurses. Everything I thought I knew about Crohn's is wrong. So I have had to start over from scratch. Good times.

We were supposed to be dismissed from the hospital following the procedure but given the findings and the bleeding that increased by about 100 percent following the scope, they asked us to stay one more night. Sure! Why not!

We are home now. My beautiful little guy has been started on whopping doses of steroids. And he starts pre-school for the first time TOMORROW!

Thank God for the blessing of denial.

It's been a long day.

My mommy heart is breaking and we still have a long night ahead. The prince has been so very brave. No tears for the IV! But the moment they decided to put that NG tube down - game over. I wish I could grab him up and run out of here and not look back. I spend all of my energy as a mommy trying to keep my kids from pain. Yet, here we sit.

If you're happy and you know it clap your hands!

~School started! (clap, clap)

~Started an exercise program. Ok, "program" may be overstating things, but still. (clap, clap)

~Made it one more day without spending any money, despite the compulsive need to buy a new purse. (clap, clap)

~Managed to take a shower while the Prince sat quietly watching TV. (clap, clap)

~Mom is buying pizza for the whole hee-haw gang tonight. (clap, clap)

~It's Friday. (clap, clap)

~Settled up with the Library. Whew, that $1.25 that I owed them was really hanging over my head. (clap, clap)

~Eliminated all dog poop from the yard. (clap, clap)

~Squeezed in some reading time! (clap, clap)

~Listening to the soundtrack from the movie "Once" and loving every minute of it. (clap, clap)

I miss the good stuff.

For the past 9 days I've been able to drink coffee from my friend's automatic espresso machine. My husband and I have almost resorted to knocking each other out of the way to be the first person to get to the machine each morning. Yesterday she packed up her machine to take it home with her - the gall.

So here I am, this morning, trying to choke down a cup of Kroger brand coffee from my coffee pot. Two weeks ago this coffee was fine. Not great, but fine. Today, it's B.A.D. I miss the espresso machine.

It's so quiet.

For the past week and a half my house has been filled with...laughing (5 kids), talking (me and my awesome friend from TX), screaming (me), eating (5 kids, 3 adults, 2 dogs), running (5 kids, 2 dogs) and sleeping - but not enough of that!

The company left this morning. Princess moves-a-lot went to her 2nd day of 2nd grade. So it's just me and Prince talks-a-lot here at home. I should really consider changing his name to Prince poops-a-lot. Speaking of, we are headed to the children's hospital that is a mere 4 hours away to have some testing done on the little guy. He doesn't know yet. I think I'll tell him as we load into the car and I give him his new Gameboy.

That's all I've got for now. Nothing funny or even interesting, for that matter. I'll let ya know as soon as that changes.

Even though she is 7. And even though this is the first day of 2nd Grade. And even though we've been down this road before...

I Trust You'll Treat Her Well

World, I bequeath to you today one little girl in a crispy dress.. with two blue eyes...and a happy laugh that ripples all day long, and a batch of light blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs. I Trust You'll Treat Her Well.

She's slipping out of the backyard of my heart this morning and skipping off down the street to her first day at school.

And never again will she be completely mine...

Prim and proud, she'll wave a young and independent hand this morning, and say goodbye and walk with little-lady steps to the nearby schoolhouse...

Gone will be the chattering little hoyden who lived only for play, and gone will be the delightful little gamin who roamed the yard like a proud princess with nary a care in her little world.

Now, she will learn to stand in lines...and wait by the alphabet for her name to be called...

She will learn to tune her little-girl ears for the sound of school bells, and for deadlines...

She will learn to giggle and gossip... and to look at the ceiling in a disinterested way when the little boy across the aisle sticks out his tongue.

Now she will learn to be jealous...and now she will learn how it is to feel hurt inside...and now she will learn how not to cry. No longer will she have time to sit on the front porch steps on a summer day and watch while an ant scurries across a crack in the sidewalk...

Or will she have time to pop out of bed with the dawn to kiss lilac blossoms in the morning dew. Now she will worry about important things...like grades...and what dresses to wear...and whose best friend is whose. Now she will worry about the little boy who pulls her hair at recess time... and staying after school...and which little girls like which little boys...And the magic of books and knowledge will soon take the place of the magic of her blocks and dolls.

And she'll find her new heroes. For five full years I've been her sage and Santa Claus...her pal and playmate...her parent and friend. Now, alas, she'll learn to share her worship and adoration with her teachers (which is only right).

No longer will her parents be the smartest, and greatest in the world. Today, when the first school bell rings, she'll learn how it is to be a member of the group...with all its privileges, and, of course, its disadvantages, too.

She'll learn in time that proper young ladies don't laugh out loud...or keep frogs in pickle jars in bedrooms...or watch ants scurry across the cracks in a summer sidewalk...

Today, she'll begin to learn for the first time that all who smile at her are not her friends. That "the group" can be a demanding mistress... and I'll stand on the porch and watch her start out on the long, long journey to becoming a woman.

So WORLD, I BEQUEATH TO YOU TODAY ONE LITTLE GIRL in a crispy dress, with two blue eyes, a happy laugh that ripples all day long, and a batch of light blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs.

I TRUST YOU'LL TREAT HER WELL.

By Dan Valentine
From the book "American Essays: Sentimental Classics Designed to Make the Heart Sing".
Published by Geo. Mc Co., Box 15671, Salt Lake City, Utah 84115
Copyright dates: 1960, 1961, 1963, 1965, and 1966 by Dan Valentine

Mornin'

I still love you internet. I miss you and I plan to visit you again soon. Right now I have company. So instead of spending my day ignoring my children and hanging out with you, I am ignoring my children and hanging out with my company.

Hugs and kisses,
me

They're called boobs Ed.

Me: (eating my toast)

Her: "Mommy what are these small bumps called again?"

Me: "They are called nipples."

Her: "Oh, right nipples. What are they called when they get bigger?"

Me: "Breasts."

Her: "Breasts. So I don't have breasts?"

Me: "Not yet, but you will in due time."

Her: (running off to her room)

10 minutes later my hubby comes running down the stairs. Breathless.

Him: "You are never gonna believe this! She is singing, in her room, undressed, in front of the mirror, TO HER NIPPLES!

Me: "Stop-it!"

Him: "I promise."

Her: (Strolling into the room, basically in her own little world. In a soft, sweet voice. No silly. No joking. This was just a song.) "Nipples, nipples...how small you are. Nipples, nipples...in a few days you will grow. Nipples, nipples...I can't see you now. Nipples, nipples...but God can see you now. Nipples, nipples...how small you are."

PEOPLE...I PROMISE I DO NOT MAKE THIS UP. I WISH, FOR YOUR SAKE AND MINE THAT EVERY ONCE IN AWHILE I HAD NOTHING TO SAY!

In other "body related news" we are headed for an upper GI for The Prince. Poor guy. Tons of diarrhea and no answers in sight. In an effort to start eliminating some trigger ingredients, I bought some organic and whole foods that cost me a small fortune. arghhh.

Because I need a little shot in the arm.

I am hustling some comments here. I'm wondering...just curious...a little interested to know about my readers. Don't get me wrong, I don't have my sights set all that high. Even so, I have my reasons...like can I swear in this blog or do need to keep it clean? Can I talk about how much I drink? Should I comment on my hormone level or would it be better to avoid that topic??...like if my dad comments. I'm just kidding about all of that, I don't swear or drink...but I do have some awful hormones! You're welcom. But mostly I'm just needing a little self-esteem boost. I want to hear from you -

And, I'm gonna make it easy for you. Since the last few months have seen a big halt to the spend-a-thon my hubby and I have been on for the past 11 years, I've been buying my fair share of discount, sale, and/or cheap items. I am very rapidly compiling a list of items that, plain and simply, are worth the money. As in, buy the good stuff cause the cheap stuff just ain't worth beans.

So here goes:
~toilet paper...for obvious reasons that have to do with the "ouch" factor as well as the crumbliness (the stuff I call toilet confetti, cause the back part of the potty looks like someone just threw a party).
~green beans...the cheap ones are a lot less green and a lot more brown - eewww
~Dish cloths...I can literally read the paper thru my new dish cloths from cough.dollar.cough.general.
~Pop or soda (depending on where you live)...Dr. Thunder, are you kidding me?
~Trash bags...unless you like the bottom of your trash-can to be filled with some combination of wet, smelly, guck
~Coffee...try as I may, it's just not cutting it for me.

Ok, that's my list so far. What do you have to add???

New Song at my house.

My parents stopped by for lunch. When dad arrived, he told me that he had been hearing the word butt being used by the princess a lot these days. Dad, knowing that I haven't let her say butt, was rightly confused. I let him in on the new rule around here about saying butt - only at home and only when we DID NOT have company. He said that was the same info he had gotten from the Princess the day before...only they were at papa's house. Hmmm, wonder why she can quote the rule all the while breaking it? Any-who...he then asked me if I had heard the new song the kids were singing. In a moment of complete stupidity I asked the kids what the new song was.

Two
Four
Six
Eight
Who do we appreciate?
Our Butt!

Two
Four
Six
Eight
Who do we appreciate?
Our penis!

You're welcome.

And then she droned on and on about nothing.

Because the entire point of this blog is for me to have a place to spit out all of the blah-blah that rattles around in my head all day, here goes...

1. Who was gonna tell me how bad those white sunglasses look? In case you are confused scroll down a couple of posts and check those beauties out. Nice. I look like an ant.

2. The boy I dated in high-school, many years ago, was in town and my mother saw him and his new baby. She took a picture to show me and good grief if he isn't still pretty good-looking. Shhh, don't tell my husband. And I really hope he (old fling) doesn't read this blog - cause I'm gonna feel really stupid if he does.

3. I'm still living out of a suitcase. Yes we got home from vacation 3 days ago. Yes I still have all of the clothes (they are clean) packed nicely in the suitcase. Yes I plan to continue to get dressed in clothes out of the suitcase each morning until they are gone...then I'll put the suitcase away.

4. The princess and the prince are fascinated with the word butt. By fascinated I mean that the moment they utter the word butt or hear someone else utter the word butt, all levels of hysteria erupt. So I made the rule that they are free to use the word butt at home any time they want to. They can NOT however say butt in front of company or in any public place. Two lessons I've learned from this new rule: 1~they are able to pack the word butt into almost any sentence. 2~Apparently I neglected to define "company" and "public place."

5. My backyard is mostly grass with a few areas that have not been able to grow grass or even weeds. Those ares are now happily growing beans. One by one tiny shoots are appearing all over my yard. The princess continues to plant dried beans from the cupboard and they continue to grow at an alarming rate.

6. Why do I spend all day exhausted and barely able to keep my eyes open...but as soon as I lay down in bed and the house is quiet, I canNOT sleep. For the love.

Magic Hands

The girl that cuts my hair is aMAzing. It's no exaggeration. I walked in today, with kids in tow, looking like a haggard bum and I left in a short 30 minutes later looking like a...well, a haggard bum with an amazing haircut. It's shocking what a good haircut and style can do for the emotions.

And while we are on the subject of me, I am in a cleaning out frenzy. It's all going. Books I won't ever read. Cell phone chargers from the ice-ages. Random parts and pieces to items we no longer own. Plastic bowls and dishes that are slowly poisoning us. The millions of pieces of paper and magazines and mismatched socks and on and on and on. I just cleaned out the spice cupboard and the junk drawer. Wow! We are no longer the proud owners of 52 "extra" screws and 8 small containers of pumpkin pie spice.

How are the kids? Glad you asked. They are spending the day fighting. Gosh, that's a shocker. Right now they are fighting over who gets the head and who gets the butt of the gummy sharks.

That's about as exciting as it gets around here. Wanna come over?

Good Morning Internet!

I'm home and I've missed you. It's so good to see you again.

I climbed into bed last night and closed my eyes and SLEPT all 8 hours without waking up one time. It was perfect.

So our little vacation to Austin Texas is over...I'll recap for you in bullet points cause it's all I've got this morning.

*trip to TX 9.5 hours. It was great. The kids traveled perfectly and I only had to reach into the back-seat and blindly begin slapping at my children to STOP THE FIGHTING one time.

*Checked into hotel and we were all delighted to find it clean and big. whew.

*Visited the Inner Space Caverns. The Princess loved it and asked lots of questions...Texans think she is really funny.

*Hung out with my big bro and sis-in-law and niece. Three is a crowd when it comes to children but all in all they managed to love each other. And I got some great bonding time with my niece!

*Went swimming at the neighborhood pool. My husband spent his time "chatting" with all of the moms at the pool. I accused him of trying to get hisself a date. He denied it - pshaaa.

*Helped my brother celebrate his 40th b-day. And by helped I mean that we did our best not to act like idiots at the ultra-hip restaurant in front of his musician friends during the live music performed by a Marimba band. In the end, he did turn 40 and we left early. I declare that a success-!!

*We, 4 adults, took the kids, 3 small children, to a park. Very fun park with lots of quiet parents playing with their nice little children. We arrived and began the yelling fest. We yelled across the park at each other to, "watch him so he doesn't fall off of that and kill himself." We yelled about sharing toys. We yelled about how FUN THIS IS!!

*Ate the most amazing pizza of my life.

*Expanded the definition of Cocktail Hour.

*Only had one major breakdown that landed me on some bench in front of our hotel crying my eyes out. Vacations are not for the faint of heart.

*Hooked up with Julie and her family! Spent an afternoon doing some fast and furious unpacking of their new apartment.

*Girls shopping trip around Austin...ahhhhh!

*Basically great fun with people that I love!

*9.5 hour car trip home that was almost miserable. We pulled into town and slowed down in front of Nana and Papa's house and kicked the kids out of the car. As we drove off I tried to hide the smile, but no use.

It's been a LOOOOONG day.

I was walking around the backyard chatting with one of my older bros on the phone. Summer day - easy. We hung up and the phone immediately rang. It was my mother. My dad was in the E.R. Chest pain. Ambulance. Cardiac Cath. ICU. ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!

So I went into absolute over-drive. Called the neighbor to watch the kids until Casey...this is what I mean about barn-building friends...could get here. I called Casey and her phone cut out so all she heard was basically the panic in my voice and volunteered to come get my kids - no questions asked. Wow! This is what friendship is. I am blessed beyond measure. I then rushed to the E.R. I think I was wearing a bra but maybe not. I spent the day with my mom and dad. His tests came back great. He is back home tonight.

We spent the evening packing for our vacation. And now, I am almost ready to collapse in bed - my own bed - for one more night before we head to Texas. I'll see ya in a week!! Peace out.

I am always right and I love it!

The brief back-story to the actual story is this -- 4.5 years ago we put an addition on our house and along with that a second air-conditioning unit on our second floor. In the summer months it was just too stinkin' hot up there to live. I've been saying for 4.5 years that the second floor unit just didn't seem right. Half the time the upstairs wasn't cool at all or it felt muggy or etc. etc. etc. My husband, I love him...I really do, can be stubborn. He disagreed with my complaints of the upstairs. Even the intense night-sweats (me) didn't seem to sway his opinion. Mainly because the problem happens during the day when it's 100 degrees outside and HE IS GONE DURING THE DAY. But I pick my battles. Calling a repair man is expensive and we were spending all of our pretend money that we didn't actually have on things like cable. So now...since the great awakening...some serious life-style changes and some freed up cash flow, we aren't so scared to call a repair man that will cost us a bazillion dollars.

Begin actual story:

I picked the battle and said that I could not take the upstairs being miserable any more. The main problem is that I would set the thermostat at 74 degrees and by 2 p.m. it was 76 degrees. My upstairs air-conditioner was plain and simply laughing in my face. Game ON. My husband said that it was just because it was so hot outside. I didn't buy it. I asked the machine to keep my room at 74 degrees and anything other than 74 degrees is just not acceptable. I'm like that...irrational and unrelenting.

So we call the repair man. He comes and asks me to tell him what's going on. I do. He looks at me like I'm a little crazy. I offer him a beer. He says yes, thank you and begins to work his heart out. I know how to get the job done. [Ok, for you readers who are real sticklers for the actual truth...he did think I was crazy but he worked his heart out anyway sans beer...although we was very quiet. Then I asked my husband and my parent's, who had come over for dinner, if it was appropriate to offer the repair man a beer and they all said yes (I have the beer for a recipie...not cause we drink beer around here =0). And then I made my husband do it. The repair man said yes and thank you and we all became great friends.].

After all that, guess what the report was? Go on...guess. I WAS RIGHT. The air-conditioner was not doing it's job. In fact it was doing half of what it was supposed to do. At one point the repair man said to my husband, "you must just lay in bed at night and sweat." Wow! That was fun to hear. The final diagnosis is that our duct work had fallen apart in the attic somewhere and instead of the air-conditioner trying to cool room air it was sucking in 130 degree attic air and trying to cool that. Meaning, the air-conditioner was in pain and agony trying to meet my demand of 74 degrees. I apologized to the air-conditioner. Kissed the repair man. And shot my husband a smug and somewhat dirty look.

Next time we decide to save money...

We are gonna start in the winter. Cause it's freakishly HOT around here and it costs a lot of money to keep the house cool. Solution? We don't. We are miserably hot. Sweating all over each other.

Today we went to my parent's house for lunch and my 4-year-old-son announced that he wanted to "stay all day because nana's house was so cold." It was really fun to be somewhere other than our house for a cool change. I have learned that the backs of my knees and thighs are made up of millions of sweat glands that find it pure joy to do their job well! I have also learned that if I am given a choice of a leather chair or any other surface that is not made up of highly absorbent mateiral...I stand. You're welcome!

Moving right along to other very exciting news. We are getting ready to leave for vacation. Austin, Texas to be exact...cause it's not haught enough here. We will be gone for 8 nights. EIGHT!!! I have never been gone from my home for 8 nights. Plus...we don't really know what we are gonna do while we are gone. It's 105 degrees in Austin. We thought about a zoo - but then we remembered that it's 105 degrees. We thought about Sea World - but then we remember that it's 105 degrees. We thought about driving for 9 hours to sit inside and watch TV and we said YEP let's go for it. Jealous-??

Anyone wanna go for a swim?

Yep, it's the blow-up pool we have in our backyard to entertain my kids all summer. Seriously, why bother...I should just let them swim in a horse tank.




***For reals about the horse tank. When I was a kid we had some neighbors who had a horse and a horse tank. The tank was a big metal tub of "water" only it was mostly green and kind of thick - way cool to us kids. I can still see the look of horror on my mother's face after a day of playing at the neighbor's house - right when I told her that we had spent the afternoon swimming in the horse tank. Good times!

At what age is the Prince too old for me to blog about his pooping habits?

Hope it's not now...cause here goes.


Pool little guy. He is really struggling with some issues. He's had tons of tests already and everything came back negative...meaning it's a mystery. I have just assumed that he is intolerant of certain foods: juice, pop, other high sugar foods.

But it's getting worse. And over the last 3 days I've gotten really nervous. The boy has chronic diarrhea. And when I say chronic diarrhea, I mean he poops 10 or more times a day and it is complete liquid poop. Sorry for the detail, but seriously...I'm wearing out here. The good news: he is gaining weight, he acts fine, he eats and drinks, he never complains. The bad news: a lot of foods cause him to pooh immediately, he doesn't always make it to the bathroom in time, he is supposed to start preschool in a month.

Yesterday I hauled him to the doctor to check it all out - yet again. The first step is to repeat all of those oh-so-fun-poop-collection-tests. Remember the ones? If not, go here. Any-whooo...they handed me a bunch of bottles and instructed me to go home and the next time he pooped to "collect" it and fill the bottles. To which I responded, "do you have any juice here? cause if you do, he will poop in approximately 55 seconds." This was followed by a disbelieving laugh on the part of the doctor and nurse, but they brought me a bottle of juice anyway. Guess what? The prince drank it up and looked up at me - with his beautiful little face - and said, "I need to poop RIGHT NOW!"

Following the "collection" we headed home and the nurse called and said, "he definitely has something going on that we need to figure out." REALLY-?? That is a complete shocker to me. So, until we know what's up they started him on antibiotics...which may cause diarrhea. Great.

We are supposed to leave for a 10 hour car trip on Saturday. Hmmmm...wonder how that is gonna go.

And then she used her magical powers to produce food.

Don't hold me to the "kind" of bean...but, the Princess - who apparently has magical powers - grabbed some of the DRIED beans out of my cupboard...

This is a story of The Princess and the Bean. These beans (a mixture of navy, kidney, white, and brown) were purchased at the store 3 years ago, taken out of the bag, placed in a jar, and left for dead. Until one day a Princess came along and saved them from certain death. She took them to the yard. Her favorite spot is a quiet little place beside the swing-set that is only dirt. A perfect square of dirt. Nothing grows here...not grass, not weeds, not the garden attempt of the King and Queen...nothing. Untill...the Princess placed an old, dried, Wal-mart bean in the little patch of dirt. And under the tender care of the Princess...one day this happened.


So the question now is...what in the ---- ummm, world kind of bean is it?

***For those of you who remember this is also the little plot of ground that was a mud lake not too long ago.

Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, It's off to work I go...

I'm dressed in scrubs. For the record, I forgot how totally comfortable these things are. Why don't we all wear these? I've got my stethoscope and favorite pens in my pocket. My kids are headed to safe and fabulous childcare (I'd link ya Casey, but I don't have time this morning to remember how...I'll edit later).

I get to be a nurse for the entire day!! I did it yesterday - gave some shots and the patients said, "thank you." I about swallowed my own tongue. Did they actually say THANK YOU??? Without being asked to say thank you? This job is a blast.

Don't get me wrong, I love to be home with my little monsters...errrr...ummm...I mean angels. But for the past couple of days we have all benefited from a little change of scenery.

So, I'm heading out with a smile on my face and a little bit of fear that I might do something totally uncool in public. Because, let's be honest...after 7.5 years at home with small kids, I may scratch my boob or pass a little gas without even thinking about it.

I'm speechless!!!

Thanks to Jen, I got me an "official" award! It's so purty and colorful and it makes me famous-er.

Joking aside, I do feel honored because it's my first and because she is just so darn sweet! If you don't read her blog every day, you are missing out.

So here it is...ain't it a beaut?


It's been quite the week, what with all of the hormonal mood swings that go from suicidal to homicidal, hemorrhaging (sorry about that TMI), headaches, and heat. For the L.O.V.E...it is HOT out there. This award could not have come at a better time. So thanks Jen!!

News

Garage sale: good.

Mood: tired, happy, content

Financial Status: Better than we were on Thursday...thanks to garage sale.

Junk Status: Getting there, but still too much

Ok, that's the report from the sale. In other news...the Princess had her first ever sleep-over away from home. Her report was: "mommy, I loved everything about it and I didn't miss you at all...that's why I hid when you came to get me."

I was not offended.

I told her I missed her while she was gone but between you and me...pshaaa.

See, I have this friend that is one of my "barn-building friends" and her daughter and my daughter are best friends. This friend of mine will never, never, never know the true blessing she is in my life, but the fact that her family has embraced the Princess and loved her is more than I can express in words. Any-who the Princess had a very royal time at her sleep-over.

And....last but not least, I will be re-entering the workforce on Monday. WOW!! Yep, it's true. I will be going to work on Monday morning at a Doctor's office to help out a bit. I'm so excited I can hardly stand it!

Babble from a bleary eyed girl...

We are having a garage sale - first evahhhhh in my entire life. I will post pictures of the two - 2 car garages that we have filled with items for sale. It's unbelievable! I have literally been working for hours and hours to get this whole thing ready. It's great. It's part of the great awakening and budget restructuring. But I'm tired. whew.

I have these two friends. Our kids are in the same grade and we became friends very, very quickly when our kids entered kindergarten. I can NOT tell you how much fun I have with these two girls. Well, the other night we got together for snacks, etc. at the house of the "my husband is out of town so come over!" friend, and we sat and talked and laughed from 7:30 until 2:30 A.M.!!!!!!!!!!!! And even that wasn't enough time. Again, I'm tired.

I had a migraine complete with a visual aura last night. ARGHHHHHHH. Those stupid things stop me dead in my tracks for quite awhile and I'm still feeling the post-drugged feeling. Did I mention that I'm tired?

Do you remember...

Do you remember when we discovered "some" pee in my son's closet and bedroom?

Do you remember HOW much trouble he got into? You may not, but he does (and so does his sister).

Do you remember we had to rip out carpet pad and carpet and PAY to have someone re-carpet part of his room.?

Do you have any guesses about what a 7 year old sister might do if pissed enough at her brother that her entire motivation was to "get him into big trouble for being so mean to me"??? In case you didn't notice the quotes, that is a direct quote.

If you guessed peeing in his closet... Well, you'd only be half right. Cause, honestly, if peeing gets you into BIG trouble, leaving behind a pile of pooh would mean big business!

I could not make this stuff up. It's true. Just ask the princess because what she lacks in good decision making...she more than makes up for in honesty.

A couple of things I now know about me...

1. I tend to become a little fixated on the left-over pasta salad in the fridge. I have now eaten if for breakfast, lunch and supper - two days in a row. Seriously.

2. My garage has become the pit of Hell. I am getting ready for my first EVVAHHHH garage sale. I have a 7 year old and I have never had a garage sale. That means 1 trillion outfits, 1 gazillion child/toy/educational items, etc., etc., etc.,

3. I like cocktails.

the end

Yeah, um-hum, right....

And then he scratched her face for "touching him" and then she bit him for scratching her face. That's more like it...

A little family photo time, awwww!

Dear 19 year old boy,

Yes, you! The one who rang my doorbell this morning. I am not so impressed by you.

First, the "jumping out of your car and smiling and waving across the street at NOBODY" was not a good sales tactic for you to do in my driveway. Here's why...you were waving at no one. I know this because, well...I have eyes and because I know who is home in this neighborhood at what times. So right away, you are irritating me.

Second, getting out of your car with a big bag and papers, etc., etc. did not sit well with me. I can spot a college age-summer job-get a real job-kid selling magazines, encyclopedias, or learning systems a MILE AWAY. I'm sorry for you that you pulled into my driveway.

Third, I was on the phone.

Forth, when you did NOT introduce yourself immediately but rather started with my kids names, ages and the school they attend claiming to know my family and about my family...well that just ticks me off. I'm guessing that you figured that out at this point, huh?

Fifth, when I asked you what you were selling and you denied selling ANYTHING and would not simply say quickly and without all of the crap jargon why you were on my porch...well, now I was loosing my patience with you.

Sixth, when you continued to ask me the same question over and over I began to count to 10 silently in my head.

Seventh, when someone says "no thanks, I'm not interested but have a nice day," you should leave - right then.

Eighth, you should be thankful that I had just put on a bra and a respectable t-shirt rather than the outfit I was wearing just 15 minutes before you showed up at my door. Because, quite honestly, the only reason I was even polite (which is a stretch-right, Rhonda?) is because I was at least dressed.

Sincerely,
Jamie

p.s. next summer I recommend skipping my house.

A little alone time...

So my dad and Princess Moves a Lot are taking a bug class this weekend. I tagged along to hang out at the hotel pool with a good book and some sun. We arrived yesterday and the Princess and I went swimming for a bit before they left for the bug class.

Here are a few details about my surroundings that may prove to be important details:
~The town we are in is 1.5 hours away from home
~The state mental hospital is here
~The town is SMALL. I mean - no Wal-mart, no DQ, no McDonald's small.
~There is an Alco and an antique store
~There are 3 hotels in this town
~When we arrived, the Princess said, "Why are all of the doors of this hotel on the outside of the building?'

So, my bug-crazed family members left at 4:00 p.m. and I was alone - aaaahhhhh! - sweet solitude. It was 100 degrees outside so I got my book and my phone and laid down on a chair beside the pool. At 6:00 p.m. my sweet husband called (from our home) to the local Pizza Hut and had a pizza and diet coke delivered to me, pool-side, with the tip included. All I had to do was say thank you! I ate and read and did a little swimming until 8:00 p.m. I came into our room, took a shower and watched a movie. The fam. showed up at 10:30. With jars of B.U.G.S! Big huge moving bugs in bottles. They come walking into the hotel room as if...AS IF there is room in this place for us (namely me) and 25 jumping bugs. The thing is, I'm not so prissy that I refuse to be around bugs. It's just that they refused to be ignored - these bugs. It's not like we could just put them in the corner. Oh no! The moment you turned your back, they all started to move and jump and bang themselves against the sides of the bottles. It was awful. I considered sleeping in the car. After much talking and reasoning and a slightly odd analogy about taking 15 people and piling them all on top of one another on a small bed and then cutting off their oxygen supply, the Princess decided to allow Papa to release the bugs. I'm sure the hotel is lovin' us today!

Sleep was an illusive creature last night - but I was not worried because the forecast was 87 degrees and sun. I knew that if I could make it through the night I had an entire day to spend lounging by the pool sleeping and reading. I may have just been too excited to sleep.

At 7:00 a.m. I woke up to thunder...??? What? I immediately realized that I was mistaken and it was only a motorcycle - right? Nope. Thunder, along with rain and cold. Not exactly pool-lounging weather. But no worries, I was sure that it was a quick storm and would soon blow over. We walked across the parking lot to breakfast and the rain drops fell so hard and fast that my coffee splashed out of my cup and burned my hand. Hmmm...? This day is gonna be interesting. My dad and the Princess left at 8:30 (with the car). My dad left me with a map of the town (as if...) and the good news that I would need to check out of the room at noon, but the lady at the desk said I could sit in the lobby until he came to pick me up after the class ends AT FOUR O'CLOCK.

So now? I am sitting in my room watching it rain...clutching my map in one hand...my overnight bag in the other...hoping that Alco has some good sales today. And, I'm realizing that the state mental hospital is just down the street. Wonder if they've got a room...

Reading Frenzy

I'm not all that great at balance. I get into these ruts and seem to hook into one thing and exhaust myself and then I move on to the next "thing". So right now, it's a reading frenzy. I am reading everything I can grab. I have to make the most of the mood because in no time at all I won't be interested in picking up a book.

This reading frenzy is fiction. Yesterday I finished "Plainsong" by Kent Haruf. It was amazing. The story is very simple and sweet. I'm not sure what drew me into this novel but in the first chapter I was hooked. If you have a day or two, grab it and settle in.

Today I'm reading "Water for Elephants". This is NOT the type of book I usually pick up, but I'm devouring it just the same. If you've read it - I'd love to hear what you think.

In other news:...

Um, well...errrr. There is no other news.

Hugs and kisses!

My friends...

I am so blessed to have an awesome group of friends. I love each of them dearly and they fill the spaces in my life with great things. One of the ways that I try to be a friend to these amazing women is to pray for each of them. So check out this list...these are some of my closest friends on this earth:

~One is going thru a divorce
~One is preparing her family of 5 to move across the country...her husband has already gone ahead of them to start the job...she is alone for at least a month with her 3 kids
~One just called off her wedding
~One just welcomed 2 new babies into her family (a niece and a nephew) that are still in ICU
~One is in the middle of a whole house makeover. This means that her family of 6 is living in the basement (dorm style) getting high on fumes of paint and stain.
~One is celebrating her b-day - married to a farmer - at the beginning of harvest! Knowing that today is the last free day until the rains come down or the wheat is all harvested!

If you didn't make my list today, it's not because I don't love you equally...it's because your life is not in the midst of crisis. Count your blessings!

Funny pretend play

So the Princess and Prince have been finding each other's company very enjoyable lately. I mean they still attempt to beat the snot out of each other daily, but when they tire of that...they play really, really well together.

As I am typing right now, they are happily playing and chatting to each other in the next room. I am willing the play to continue because it's so fun for me to hear (and also because I don't have to do anything but sit and smile).

They have this way of playing that I think is really bizarre. Here's a sample:

Princess: "Pretend the knight says to the other knight, 'you need to take cover'"

Prince: "You need to take cover!" "Pretend he says 'run, run it's coming'"

Princess: "Run, run it's coming" "Pretend he says 'I think we are safe'"

Prince: "I think we are safe"

And on and on and on. It's two little people fulfilling each other's dreams. Every time I hear one of them say "pretend he says..." and then the other actually says the "..." part - I laugh out-loud. It's strange I think, but it's all mine!

Let me introduce you to my family...

I've been trying to come up with some cute names for the fam. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and be pretty original. So...let me introduce you to:

Princess Moves a lot


AND

Prince Talks a lot (a.k.a. Yeah-but)


These two subjects of royal descent bow to no-one INCLUDING their King.

King Smiles a lot (I think it's because he gets to work away from the Palace on a regular basis)


And the Most Royal of all of the subjects

Queen It's all about me...A Lot

Jack-Pot

This was a little Father's Day scavenger hunt that we did together. The kids followed him around as he found clues and laughed at each one. What a good daddy!
These 2 kiddos don't have any idea how blessed they are to have a dad like this one. He is amazing.

I'm fine

The weekend was fine.
No blog-worthy issues.
I have no reason to feel like this.
No one is sick.
I am tired.
Actually exhausted is more like it.
I can hardly get out of bed.
When I do - it's hardly worth it.
I sit and do nothing.
Did I mention how tired I am?
I am even too tired to write...or read.
Wish I was too tired to eat.
It's all I seem to be interested in.
This is not gonna turn out well.

When I prayed for a girl

Before she came into my life I prayed for this girl. I dreamed of the pink, the sparkly, the girly, the dresses, the makeup, the jewelry.

Never in a thousand prayers did I say, "Dear God please protect her when she descends up to her knees and elbows in a pit of mud and pulls out some living creature that has yet to be discovered on planet earth."

Unbridaled Talent

Cause sometimes you're just to busy to worry about the details...

Do you know...

What happens when a 4 year old stops the sink from draining and turns on the water - high, shuts the bathroom door and forgets about it all for at least 30 minutes?

Well, it's not good...for the bathroom or the 4 year old.

True story and it happened at my house. We discovered it with an inch on water on the bathroom floor. The water had run out of the bathroom and into the surrounding rooms - which are carpeted. And the cherry on top of this entire delicious moment was the waterfall that was happening from the basement ceiling.

My parents happened to be here and I simply turned to my mom and said, "could you get him (the 4 year old) away from me." She did.

The thing is...I have been accused of watching my kids too close and checking on them too often. I am not a mother who just lets them do whatever. And still...they are slowly taking years off of my life with all of their escapades. If you need me - check Cabo, cause I'm heading back on the next plane.

While we were out...

So the other part of a vacation away from home and kids is that there are more blogging opportunities. When we got home on Friday night at 1 a.m. we walked into our kitchen to see a note laying on the table. The top part, written in my mother's handwriting said..."800-get-help" the bottom part, written in my daughter's handwriting said..."I love you nana." This was interesting to come home to...

Turns out, my daughter pushed the home alarm button that immediately summoned the police and sounded the alarm at our house for a LONG, LONG time. My one oversight...I did NOT leave the alarm code. "800-get-help" is the number to our alarm company. "I love you nana" is an apology from a very sad 7 year old. Two police officers at my house later all is well! =)

My kids spent the week playing outside...being spoiled by a team of very awesome people...collecting spiders (I'm quickly putting a stop to that activity)...VBS...gymnastics...and NOT missing their parents. All in all - a good week.

More fun...

I'm trying to decide if I loved the R&R the best or the clothes! It's a toss up...

Tuesday night was the awards banquet. All dressed up and fabulous food. This was the night I decided to check out real-estate in Cabo.

And then, my camera ran out of batteries. So many other people with us were snapping pictures that we just went with it. So, I'm waiting on more pictures. I'll post as soon as they arrive.

Cabo Baby!

At the airport at 7 a.m. - barely awake - getting ready to head to Mexico for a week! The kids were safely tucked in their beds at home with nana and papa filling in for the week. At this point, I was not excited about the trip.

And then this...95 degrees on the beach. Ummmm, getting a little more excited. We arrived in Cabo without any problems. The resort was beautiful. The first day we checked in, toured the resort, hit the fitness center, then the pool, dinner overlooking the sea and tucked in bed - exhausted!

Monday: This trip was for hubby's work so we registered and grabbed some breakfast. Headed to the beach and settled in for the day! My hubby did a little body surfing while I did a little NOTHING! Met a really cool girl and laid by the beach and chatted. That evening we went to a welcome dinner by the pool.

Tuesday: Beach, massage...which was heaven, lunch, and a wild game of water volleyball! I think this became my favorite activity!

Resting up after vacation!

Hey all! It's Saturday. We are home and reconnecting with our kids and our washing machine! I have so much to tell you. Our trip to Cabo was AMAZING! As soon as I tuck the kiddos in tonight - I'm gonna belly up to the computer and start at the beginning.

A letter to my girl...

Dear Daughter,

You are 7 and you just finished your last day of 1st grade. I wish that you could, just for one day, live in my head and understand how much effort and love we have poured into you during this school year. I want you to have this information - not so that you are grateful - I want you to know that we love you more than I ever thought it possible to love another human being. I do not need thanks or affirmation for the energy I put into your precious life. Just being your mom is a gift.

Here's the thing little one - I need you to know how much I love you so that you won't freak out and require even more therapy when you find out, someday, that mommy occasionally needs to vent a little bit about you.

Today was the awards assembly at school. It's this big deal at your school and all the kids, parents, grandparents, siblings, etc. are in the room. I am so proud of the girl that you are. You have learned so much and grown so much. If I spend much time thinking about all that we've been through in your little life, I am amazed at who you are today. Your teachers stood on stage with you and gave you the Generosity Award because you are always sharing yourself - your food - your things - your hugs - your kisses. You also are the "kisses WITH almonds" of the class. You are sweet and loving and a little nutty on the inside! =) The awards were perfect for you. And you, my darling, stood on stage and tapped your foot until they asked you not to...but you did not stop. You waved constantly at me and your brother. You messed with your tights under your skirt. You picked up glitter stars off of the stage when you were supposed to be waiting in line. You kissed your teacher while she was talking. You jumped behind another teacher while she was telling the audience about your award. You ran off of stage too soon and raced across the front the of the audience and to the back to find me, when you were supposed to sit in your seat on the front row. And you were the only 1st grader to leave early...just because. Truthfully, it's all O.K. with me. I love you in spite of all the nuttiness. But my heart is torn. I watch your behavior in public and I wonder if people will ever get the chance to see you for you. I wonder if most people see you and think you are being "naughty." I wonder if people see that you are happy! I wonder if people look at your beautiful face and are able to see the hand of God in every aspect of your life. The truth is, baby girl, they may not. They may never. It may always feel like an uphill battle in some ways.

So, just in case you ever wonder...this is what I want you to be sure of. I prayed for you. I begged for you. I chose you. The day that we adopted you was one of THE. MOST. AMAZING. DAYS. OF. MY. LIFE. You were the easiest baby I have ever known. You smiled and laughed early and you haven't stopped! You have the gift of creativity and endless energy. You have the gift of ADHD - but it won't feel like a gift a lot of the time. You also have a strong will and a sure sense of what you want. You think outside of the box. You believe that people are good. You think that all creation has worth. You love with your whole heart - even when it's not returned to you in full measure. You laugh with your whole body and you don't care who's watching. You don't waste your time with lies because you are not afraid of the truth. And you have an army of people behind you that know you and love you just as you are. You will have days when it will seem that the rest of the world is so much bigger than your own personal army...but just remember, what we may lack in number we more than make up for in power!

I love you!

All in the family

Summer is a short 24 hours away! I can smell it. The sleeping in, the fighting, the pjs until lunch, the swimming pool. Ahhhh...

In the news around here:

~my daughter did in fact show her nipples in school...to her teacher...during spelling...because, unfortunately, the spelling word was bottle and the teacher used bottle in a sentence that my daughter decided was partially false. "The mommy feeds the baby a bottle of milk." Uh, no - "actually (fully displaying her nipples) they feed their babies with these...but mine are totally too small for some baby to suck on."

~my daughter also dropped her shorts and peed on the playground yesterday. she did walk around to the side of the building but some kids saw and so did a teacher. ooops. my kid claims that she wasn't gonna make it to the bathroom and she also adamantly claims that when she is camping she pees outside and somehow that makes it ok at school. hmmmm...

~the hostile take-over has resulted in the sale of my Sequoia and the purchase of a Camry - used - lots of miles - cheap!

~cable is going, going, gone...my son is so confused about his place in this world now.

~I spent a couple of hours in the middle of the night walking the halls of my house because my uterus was trying to see just how much pain I could actually handle without passing out. I won, but it was quite the battle. During my time awake I started worrying about the upcoming trip to Cabo. What if it sucks? What if we get sick - in Mexico? Why do fears always seem so much worse at night?

Ok, internet, that's all I got for ya today.

The Great Awakening and the hostile take-over pt. 2

Okay, I'm kidding about the hostile take-over. It's not hostile and it's not a take-over. But it's funny, right?

So today was a B.I.G. day for us around these parts. And by big, I do not mean fun-big. We met with our banker...who is also a friend...who is also very wise...who is also very conservative with money...who is also happy to give us great advice instead of a stroke when he looks at our finances. So we opened Pandora's box and it may not be good.

I seriously have spent many, many years of my marriage with my eyes closed tight and my hands over my ears whenever my hubby started to talk about money. I worked for the first few years and once our daughter was born I quit to stay home with her. I have contributed to the income and I contributed to the debt. So I am taking full responsibility. So is my hubby. Seems fair.

The other day I opened my eyes and took my hands away from my ears and grabbed all of the finances and started to scream...one long and loud blood-curdling scream. It's not like we cannot fix the problems - we can. But I am more of an instant gratification girl. I want it fixed now. I want to hear of a need in my community and be able to help financially in some way. I want to take a few vacations with my kids and let them have some cool experiences that they cannot have in our small community. I hope to be able to help when they want to go to college. I would love to not have the weight of debt hanging over my husband's shoulders so heavy that he looses his footing from time to time. I am a decision maker and I don't look back. I like to keep things organized. I can fix problems. It's not gonna be fun - but it will be fine and in the end so much better.

Phase one involves:
~ a very strict budget. Quicken and I are gonna become best friends.
~Decreasing every monthly bill by at least some money...utilities, tv, phone, gas, food, entertainment
~changing the way we live and the choices we make...drastically

Stay tuned.

Me and crazy don't work

I don't do crazy with a whole lot of patience. I am good at it - lucky me. But I've got my limits.

Crazy called one too many times yesterday and snapped my last nerve in half. Does that mean that I'm stressed? Nope. Does it mean that I'm tired? Nope. Does that mean that I'm coming undone and cannot take one more thing? Nope. It's not any of that. Frankly, it might be a relief to my husband and my mother if I responded like that to crazy. But I'm not wired that way. It only makes me ready for the fight.

So if you are crazy and you happen to be reading this - it's not lookin' good for you. Just sayin'

It's so boring it's almost not worth the post.

I'm exhausted. Not just any kind of exhausted, but the mind numbing, body aching, eye squinting kind of exhausted. Ick.

The last couple of days have been really low on the continuum that is my life. My preference is funny and easy...those kind of days rank HIGH. All other options just don't.

My hubby took the day off yesterday kind of by accident. His day got started late due to a little incident at my daughter's school. The school is about a 15 minute drive from our house and he had just returned home from dropping her off for the day when the phone rings. Turns out (for reasons unknown to us) she has gotten her jeans all wet from the toilet. Hmmmm? But good thing she had on her silky pj pants under her jeans (again, hmmmm?) so she was patiently sitting in class in her pj bottoms until we could bring her some different pants. The actual story is, apparently it's kind of funny to wear your pj bottoms under your jeans when you are in first grade. And if...you "accidentally" fall in the toilet and get your pants wet then you get to wear said pj bottoms to class...which tops the kid who just wore the pjs under his pants all day. Mission accomplished.

After my hubby returned from his second round trip to daughter's school I suggested that he just play hooky and hang out with me and our little guy all day. I didn't have to ask him twice. And then (again for reasons unknown to me) we got started setting up a new budget...which led to budget talk...which led to what can only be described as a hostile take-over on my part. Hubby has been doing the money management for the 11 years of our marriage and it's been a breeze for me. Well, that has come to a sudden death. I will now be co-managing the money and by co-managing I mean he will earn it and I will do the rest. Life as we know it has just ended and for good reason.

I have thrown myself full throttle into an exercise program. It's painful and ultimately disappointing. I still had to squeeze into my jeans last night. But if my goal was to cause my legs and butt to scream in pain all day and all night - I've managed to more than accomplish that goal. In fact going up to my bedroom on the second floor has to be a matter of life and death because walking the stairs is not worth it for frivolous reasons. And sitting down...well it's over-rated. I'm fine with eating standing bellied up to the bar. And frankly, boys are not the only gender that can master standing to pee.

And finally, my last bit of completely random updates is the haircut I just accomplished on my son. I have scissors and clippers and a deck. What I don't have is $12.00. So today I became mommy barber. I am NOT a fan of the "buzz-cut" and thus refuse to shave it off as easy as that would be. It took 33 minutes, crying (him), screaming (him), yelling (me), ice-cream (him), and liqueur (me)...but it's done and it looks...well, shorter. The end.

A weekend to remember!

(Disclaimer - What you are about to read may sound like I am complaining. I am not. Just listing the facts as I see them. As to my emotional health - well, I'm medicated.)

Saturday night we were invited to a dinner party with some friends. It was fun, mostly. Well, except for the part when I started laughing so hard I SPIT my drink out of my mouth and showered the entire table with it. That part was pretty awesome. Especially because out of the other 6 people at the table I really only knew 2 AND because everyone had on suits and dresses AND because I know that today a few people are talking about the girl that sprayed the table with spit. Good thing the bread was covered.

And then there was Mother's Day. The one day out of the year to celebrate our Mothers. What a great idea. My husband went shopping...alone...the day before. I didn't tell him to take the kids and so he didn't. It might have been nice, but they can learn about Mother's Day next year or something like that.

Oh, but back to the day. I woke up to a "Happy Mother's Day, we got you a coffee!!" from my kids. And they asked me to check my phone because they left me a text message. (a little weird, but cute). So I climbed off the couch (I had spent the night on the couch because I had regular coffee at the dinner party and I was up until 4 a.m.) for my McDonalds coffee. Nothin' says love like McDonalds.

For lunch my mother and I cooked an awesome meal...for each other...and my husband and my dad liked the idea so much they joined us. They even said how great everything tasted. After lunch my husband asked when it would be a good time to deliver the gift HE. HAD. SHOPPED. FOR. THE. DAY. BEFORE. TO. HIS. MOTHER. Still no gift for me. I mean it's fine. It's mother's day and I'm not his mother. I get the concept. But technically, my kids can't read, write, drive, or shop - so I'm thinking that the whole mother's day thing has to be taught to them by their father (or as in my case, by my mother - next year).

Okay, so in case you think my hubby is a total looser (which he is not - even close) he did let me have the day off of parenting...mostly. I got to lay around and watch TV. He went and got Dairy Queen for me! And at 10:30 p.m. he made a mad dash to Wal-mart and showed up with an armband for my ipod and an itunes gift card. Awwww, and I was totally not expecting anything.

Going to the chapel

She's all grown up. For the past 6 years she has been virtually my only non-family babysitter. Then we became great friends. Then she met a boy. Then she got a big - 'ole ring to put on her finger. Then she asked ME to be her matron of honor at the wedding. I can't wait!!!

Isn't she gorgeous-??



p.s. And I promise to still love her even though there is a chance that she is putting me in a dress that will blow up above my chin if it's windy and if it's not windy, me and my stick-ons' may not be able to fill the top out completely. So in either case it could be quite the show.

I think our kids are lucky to have us!

A story an hour

With this particular 7 year old girl living at my house, I really do have a story an hour.

We have these neighbors that have been working and working in their backyard for a couple of years now. One of the new additions they have made is a goldfish pond. They should have considered a fence. Poor people.

A few days ago I sent my kiddo out to play in the backyard. I meant OUR backyard and she believes that the world is her backyard. We're working on it. Anyway, she happily played on the swing, in the sand, under the tree, in the dirt, on the slide...you get the point. I know all of this because I check on her - a lot. So you can imagine my surprise when I went to check on her and she had vanished. I called her name - no answer. I called again - no answer. I bellowed her name so as to reinforce my psycho parenting skills for all of the neighborhood to hear. She came running...from the neighbor's backyard...carrying her full-sized with a lure and a hook fishing pole. Oh, crap! When I asked her what she was doing...her reply, "I was trying to catch a fish from the neighbor's pond."

Daddy I have a few questions...

Uhhhh...oh no! The dreaded beginning of what would prove to be better than SNL re-runs!

Last night a bit past bedtime a storm rolled in. Ahhhh, Kansas storms - always proving to bring excitement to my life. Last night my daughter decided to join me in bed because of all of the thunder. She and I cuddled up together and my hubby walked into the room to say goodnight. Bad move on his part!

My daughter immediately said, "daddy what are these called?" as she sits up in bed and pulled her nightgown up to her chin and points to her n.i.p.p.l.e.s. Yep, here is comes.

My husband, trying to hide his shock and frankly...fear, said, "I'm not sure what girls call them."

To which I replied, "they're called nipples."

And my obviously relieved husband said, "yeah, they're called nipples."

My daughter was NOT finished. She followed it up with, "then what are they called when they get bigger?"

To which my husband replied, "ummm, bigger nipples?" (as if it were a trick question)

I ruined the very straight forward conversation with raucous laughter. Couldn't help it. I nearly peed myself. Once I finally got control, I informed my daughter that they were called breasts. She was unfazed. My husband was completely freaked out and quickly said to my daughter, "I'm just a guy I don't really know these kinds of answers." That couldn't be any more true.

Just wonderin'

The forthcoming Cabo trip has only served to increase my awareness of, let's just call them THINGS. Or maybe it's cause I'm 31. Or maybe it's cause...

O.k. anyway:

1. My body is reshaping itself and this thing appeared around my middle like a ring of "what the heck is this because it's making me crazy." You may know it by one of these names: love-handles, muffin-top, inter-tube, etc., etc. Looks great in a swimming suit and a sun-dress though.

2. Ummm, am I growing a beard?

3. What happened to my feet? My toenails used to be beautiful. I could doll them up with a little shiny pink and go for the entire summer. I used to only have 10 toenails and now, seriously, I have 13. Apparently divide and conquer is the new motto. Three, yes I said 3, of my toes are going more than one nail. And what used to be soft, supple skin on my feet has left the building and in it's place, I have skin that needs a long sweet drink of water.

I'm stopping there because I've had just about enough and I'm guessing the same goes for you!

A new generation

My 7 year old daughter's teacher stopped me today to tell me a funny, funny story!

Miss W. (teacher) is struggling with some congestion and on Monday she started to loose her voice. One of the boys in the class commented that it was hard to hear her and maybe she should go get a drink. Miss W. said she was fine and continued to teach. Pretty soon a little hand went in the air. It was my kiddo - fully apart of a new generation - and she said, "Miss W. I really think you need to go get a drink, it's hard to hear you cause you are cuttin' in and out."

Los Cabos

I'm just gonna start talking about it now - so that I might be ready to actually pack my bag when the time comes.

My husband and I are going to Cabo. There I said it - in writing - I cannot take it back.

Thing is, I'm not excited. Sound stupid..? I know.

I've been thinking about it a little and here's the truth. (Joanna - no comments please). I love the beach. I love to swim. I love to eat out. I love to get away. I might actually enjoy spending time with my husband. But...and there is a big but here (not that kind of butt, but that too) I DO NOT LIKE TO BE TOLD WHAT TO DO. This trip to Cabo is a company trip. They tell us when to arrive, where to stay, what to do, where to eat, even what to wear on some evenings, when to leave, etc., etc. I don't want to do what "they" say. That's it. It's that simple. I'm a brat. My mother is so proud.

Kicking it in to gear.

My job is beginning to require something out of me that I'm not sure how to do. See, I know how to "do" the baby stage. I am good with babies, baths, diapers, the "I'm gonna getchu" game. I can put a baby on a schedule and stick with it. I can fix bottles, sippy cups, pack a great diaper bag, and on and on and on until...

My children get big and need me to teach them how to behave and then, well...I'm out. I got nothin'.

My son is the child that is filling my time with parenting questions today - I'm guessing because my daughter is at school and in all honesty, she is hard in an entirely different sort of way.

Here's the thing with my boy. First, he's 4. I love my son. He lights up my world in a way that is unique to him alone. He laughs big and gives great hugs. He talks a lot and for that I am grateful. But he's 4 - and I'm not really that fond of the age...just sayin'.

He is not a man of great variety and so right now at any given moment, he is doing one of two things...both of which are "teachable moments."

1. He is a little fixated on the p.e.n.i.s. Holding it, moving it, or talking about it. It's a blast!

2. He calls everyone we meet, see, or get anywhere close to names. Mostly goof-ball (thanks a lot papa), stinker, or baby. I know he is trying to make people laugh. And for the most part folks are being pretty good natured about it. But, what he doesn't know is - WHEN.TO.QUIT.THANK.YOU.VERY.MUCH. I know that when he is 16 and driving and interested in girls, etc. etc. I will wish for the days that he was just calling names. I understand that on the grand scheme of things this is just a moment in time. But COME ON!!! The child is basically a tiny little jerk any time we get close to another human. Because, what people don't know (and I do) is that the reason he says goof-ball or stinker is because he hasn't learned butt-head.

Here's my brain on the fumes of old pee

So first, I throw up a little bit in my mouth. And then...

this:

**notice the giant PEE stains

**to say that I forced my husband's hand to actually FIX the "smells like complete crap" room, is an understatement.

**and this stain, well it's NOT pee, it's liquid pooh. As in montezuma's revenge.

**I have this thing about nasty...it belongs somewhere else.

**Now my son's bedroom looks like this. =)

Life as I know it...

Good morning mom (cause I’m guessing by this point you are the only person that checks my blog). I haven’t felt much like posting lately, not sure why. But I will give you a little bit of insight into my life as a crowned princess.

My son’s room smells like straight pee. Turns out, he has been peeing in and around his closet because, he doesn’t “exactly know where the bathroom is.”

I’ve tried scrubbing it with various products and now today I’ve decided that I’m gonna get after it with vinegar and water. Because pickled pee is better to smell than just straight pee.

FUN!!!!

One of my best friends is here from North Carolina with her hubby and 3 kids. In addition to my fam. of 4, that equals a houseful of FUN!

I'll be back soon...

Heaven

4 year old: "Daddy, where do people go when they die?"

Dad: "I believe that we go to Heaven."

4 year old: "I want to go to Heaven because do you think maybe in Heaven I can drink juice and not get diarrhea?"

Dad: "That's EXACTLY what Heaven is like, there is no diarrhea in Heaven."

4 year old: "Is there any poop or pee-pee in Heaven?"

Dad: "Well, I'm not sure about that."

On a disgusting note

I have started tanning a little bit because...well, I tell people it's because I am going to Mexico in June (which is true) and I want to make sure that I don't burn on my first day in Mexico.

The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth...tanned fat looks way better than white fat.

My first day in the tanning bed I laid there for 2 minutes and I was pink...shut-up.

My second day in the tanning bed I laid there for 5 minutes and I am now covered from my neck to my...ehem...upper thighs with heat rash. It's not on my back at all so I am sure that it's not from unclean tanning beds. It's truly because I am so pasty white that in 5 minutes of UV light exposure my skin freaked out and completely rebelled against me. It's super sexy.

Pouch-schooling

I did something yesterday that I've never done before. I kept my daughter home from school - perfectly healthy - as a punishment. See, she was having a bad morning - like out of her head and out of control bad morning that started at 5 a.m.!!!

Here's the deal with staying home on a school day...it's NOT a fun thing. We did school - at home. We started at 7 a.m. and this was the day:
~art project (that ended up taking ALL DAY but she was only allowed to work on it in between other subjects
~writing a letter to a friend
~addition and subtraction with playing cards
~math sequencing with post-it notes on the windows
~the card game 21
~spelling word practice on the chalkboard door
~phonics worksheets
~identifying nouns, verbs, and adjectives in simple sentences
~PE (Papa came and got her and took her for a long walk...this was my favorite subject)
~a math worksheet that included addition, subtraction, telling time, and counting money
~finally, Nana read a few chapter out-loud from the Boxcar Children and the assignment was to draw a picture about the story and write one sentence about the story.
~whew.

She and I are both glad to report that she is back at school today and I am back to doing absolutely nothing.

S.O.S.

I'm reading books to help me see the "positive" side to high-spirited, passionate, and lively kids.

But today, in spite of all of my reading material...I'm having a rough day outlasting the constant-constant-constant-constant difficulty of it all.

When I'm in a better mood - I'll give ya a little taste. But reliving the drama right now if more than I can take.

Bullet Points

Because sometimes there is just NO other way to communicate.

●I was asked to be the Matron of Honor in my friend's wedding!! I am so excited, I'm already counting the days. This friend has been the babysitter for my kids, my neighbor, my workout partner, and close friend.

●One of my best friends from North Carolina and her family are coming to visit in just 5 days. The house has to be cleaned and groceries bought, etc., etc. But it's worth every minute.

●I have a haircut tonight. Honestly, it's more about getting out and having someone else wash my hair and chat with me than it is about the hair.

●Rock-Chalk-Jayhawk...K.U.!!!!! It's game day.

●The days are getting longer and the weather is getting warmer...which means camping season is right around the corner!

●I have a letter to appear for Jury duty this week.

●I may never get all of my laundry folded and put away. I'm considering telling the kids that we now dress and undress in the dining room and that YES the clothes do belong on the table.

Zoo-tastic!

We've become zoo-goers. We bought a zoo pass and since then have gone as often as humanly possible. Which includes yesterday and today so far this week.

Yesterday - with a class of first graders. You can imagine!

Today with my 4 year old, who was ticked that he didn't get to go yesterday, and my dad. Don't tell my daughter, but today was wayyyyyyy more fun!

The zoo isn't a success in my book if something crazy or just plan gross doesn't happen. In the past few zoo experiences, I've gone with a friend and I have witnessed a sheep ram my friend in the arse (is this a swear word? I think it's Irish for butt), a swan that was hissing and flapping it's wings chasing her 1 year old daughter, and standing immediately down-wind as a gigantic hog farted. It was Zoo-tastic!

Yesterday, on the field-trip, we got to see the chimps show-off and some major nose-picking/booger-eating from the gorillas. It was pretty cool!

But today I got to see a vicious cougar desperate to eat my 4 year old son. We were safe and the cougar was well caged...but still, it was a little creepy. We walked up to the cougar area and 2 cougars were laying around in the sunshine doing what most zoo animals do, acting incredibly bored. All of a sudden, one of the cougars saw my kid and stood up and began pacing back and forth in front of my son. As my son traveled the length of the exhibit the cougar followed right with him and when my son stepped up the glass, the cougar jumped up against the glass and stood on his back feet. He then began to hit at the glass and BITE at the glass with my son 3 inches away. We stood and watched him for a few minutes and the cougar never took his eyes off of my son. So now if you ask my son what the cougar was thinking at the zoo today, he says, "he wanted to eat me for lunch." True - so true.

Bubble what...???

I put on a pair of pants yesterday and they "fit" different than I remembered. So, I'm thinking - great...they are too tight. Good grief, I'm exercising like crazy.

And like any other married woman, I asked my husband, "do these pants look o.k.?"

To which he responded, "........................."

Typical. I know that he is thinking, oh crap! what do I say?

So when I push him a bit, he says, "your butt looks muscular."

Um, what????

"By muscular do you mean big?"

"............................................."

"Ok, you are gonna have to answer my questions now because I'm just not sure what you mean by muscular."

"..........................................."

"Oh, for crying out loud. Tell me what you are thinking."

"The pants look good er fine er nice."

"Should I just change? Are they too tight? What aren't you saying??"

"I've just never seen you with a bubbled out bottom before, it looks muscular."

"I.HAVE.A.BUBBLE.BUTT????"

To which my 4 year old son - who has been playing nearby - says, "mommy has a bubble butt - mommy has a bubble butt - mommy has a bubble butt."

Nice.

Few little bits -

It's been a few days full of happenings. So here goes...

Thursday morning my daughter's teacher had a baby. Sweet, tiny, and new. Ahhh, there truly is nothing better. The downside of a new baby is that apple-cart upset is an understatement. My daughter has loved this teacher. I have loved this teacher. And now our precious 1st grade teacher is a stay-at-home-mom. Enter new teacher. Begin melt-down for both me and my daughter.

Now, before you roll your eyes and think that I have lost my ever-lovin' mind over a teacher, let me explain. This teacher loves my kid. Not just a little, but completely and without conditions. She has become a second mother of sorts because she has spent the last several months working with me day by day to help my precious child learn not only to read and spell but she has been absolutely instrumental in helping my daughter to learn self-control, minding, patience, joy and many other positive character traits. In August, when I desperately needed a break from the intensity of raising this spirited kiddo, this teacher swooped in and offered me that break from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. five days a week. We talked DAILY about the current "issues" that ranged from focus problems in the classroom to self-esteem development to behavior modification techniques. It was a very cool partnership.

So back to Thursday and the birth of a new baby. The new teacher had been teaching for exactly 5 hours when the melt-down began for my daughter. She refused to mind the new teacher and the new teacher went toe to toe with my daughter. The rule is...if you pick a battle with my daughter, you have to (and I mean HAVE TO) win. My kiddo proceeded to cry for 20 minutes straight. I mean sobbing-crying. In the end she did what the teacher asked but not without pain and despair. As the teacher explained this to me after school that day, a little bit of my died inside as I realized that my daughter was crying tears of grief because what she really wanted was for that day to be like the day before with the same teacher and the same rules and the same security she had known for the last several months. New and change are very difficult for this kiddo.

I spent a lot of Thursday afternoon talking to and playing with my daughter. Friday was a better day at school. And thanks to a couple of really amazing friends, Friday was a better day at home as well. While my daughter was at school learning to adapt to change, I was at home sitting in my kitchen crying my eyes out to two very patient and loving friends who said all of the right things and gave me time to cry.

Sunday rolled around and we got an invitation to visit our precious teacher and her new baby. My daughter wasn't so sure she even wanted to go see the baby. I was shocked. After much talking and waiting, we did go and visit. There were lots of hugs and kisses and a big sigh of relief! And in the end - I think everything is gonna be all right.

Pain

Wow! The pain I feel as I fight the world on behalf of my daughter is actual physical pain. My eyes hurt from crying, my head hurts from drinking (kidding - sorta), my heart hurts just because, my stomach hurts from worrying, and my arms hurt because as hard as I try to keep her safe inside them - she has to go and grow up.

The lost decade...

It's a funny thing, being 31 years old with 2 small kids. I kind of have a feeling that I've lost some years in this vortex that is my life. It's not a complaint by any means. I know, I know - for laughs I usually down my gig here as mommy. But if you are a mother, you know how unTRUE that really is.

I love it, wouldn't go back (at least not for more than a night or two), 'nuff said.

Thing is, the lost years are really true. Technology blew past me when I was busy watching Barney and playing Candy-land. Music has all new names and faces because I've spent my car time singing "The Wheels on the Bus." Before I had small kids that took every moment of my day, people used to talk on the phone or e-mail in FULL words. Now we text in short-hand and say things like ttyl (which, for the record, I thought was a cute way of saying toodle until the moment I realized the real deal).

Oh, I used to be so cool. Right? But now, pop-culture is not even on the radar. I get it now...about my parents and how they came to know nothing. Sorry mom and dad. I used to think it was so weird that human beings that lived in this world didn't know every word to Walk Like an Egyptian, or how funny Dumb and Dumber was, or how to set the clock on a VCR. But now I get it...that was their lost decade.

Ok, so now I've gotta go b/c I need to find my daughter and have her set a new ringtone on my phone.

A few stats...

Number of puke buckets emptied: 6

Number of hours watching TV: 17 hours in a row

Number of kids home today: 2

Number of Motrin consumed in the last 12 hours: 8

Number of nerves I have left: 1

Spring Break Day #6

Me: Working all morning until early afternoon.

7 year old: Waiting for me to come home to PUKE!! thanks, hon!

Spring Break Day #5

Build a Bear - where I spent $$$ equal to a mortgage payment. I guess it's cheaper than a Spring Breat trip.

More cousin play!

And off to work for me - funny how work has become a mini-vacation! =) (shhhh, don't tell anyone I said that).

Spring Break Day #4

Calm, quiet morning...where did that come from??

I got the house picked up, laundry done, dishes unloaded and loaded, a SHOWER!!

This afternoon is cousin play.

Spring Break Day #3

The Zoo and a movie! It was a perfect day.

Spring Break Day #2

8:45 a.m.

Daughter is on the couch with a trash can at her side saying, "my tummy hurts really, really bad."

Son heads into the bathroom and I hear, "Oooopppps, sorry." I go into the bathroom to find him standing, facing the toilet, holding the lid up so he can pee and a pile of poop laying on the floor behind him.

I am a princess. I am a princess. I am a princess.

Spring Break Day #1

Awake at 7:00 a.m. I declared a NO tv day. That lasted until one puzzle was completed and one time out was issued - about 8:30 a.m.

Good thing she's so pretty...

We had a shower for my daughter's teacher today during school. We played two games and one was the baby picture game. Each student brought one of their baby pictures from home and we passed them around and asked all of the kids to right down who they thought it was. I think the parents had as much fun as the kids at guessing each sweet little baby.

There are only 3 girls in the class. I know I can see you cringing now, but really it's not that bad.

Anyway, the pictures were passed. When #5 came it was of my beautiful baby girl (made me miss her baby days). She took one look at the picture and with big wide eyes she said, "I know who that one is!!" Then...to one of the girls in her class she said, "hey, how do you spell your name?"

Confession

Sunday night - sick kiddo

Monday morning, day, night - sick kiddo

Tuesday morning, day, night - sick kiddo

Wednesday morning, day, night - sick kiddo

Mommy status: Crazy

I slept ALL night

4.5 years ago we added a master-bedroom onto our house complete with a really awesome ceiling fan. 4 years ago the ceiling fan stopped working. 1 year ago my son hit some magic button on the fan remote and the fan started working again. Oh, the JOY!! 1 year ago (about 15 minutes later) my husband pushed another button on the remote and the fan stopped working.

ARghhhhh.

This led to taking the fan completely apart and "fixing" it (wink, wink). It worked as it was hanging by a thread from my ceiling...but the moment he put it all back together again it stopped working. What in the...???

So, he determined that the fan had a bad wire and it needed to be replaced. Fine.

365 days later...he bought a new fan. No need to be impulsive.

Yesterday he began the "quick" process of putting up the new fan. It only took 3 hours! He installed it, pushed the button on the NEW remote and magic...it WORKS!!! His comment, "the new remote doesn't have one of those buttons on it to change the direction of the fan - that's good."

I went to take a shower. Within minutes my husband throws open the door to the bathroom and says, "I just tried the old remote and now the fan doesn't work!"

Oh, for the LOVE.

"Why did you try the old remote when the new remote worked just fine?"

"Because I just wanted to see if it would work?"

"But you just said that the new..."

"I KNOW, I KNOW, I'm an idiot!"

He grabs both remotes and slams the door and stomps down the stairs. Sexy.

On a whim he decides to check the fuse box. Guess what... No really, go on guess. Apparently there is a button the old remote that causes a fuse to blow. Which leads me to ask one question - but I'm not gonna.

My husband flipped the switch in the fuse box and the new fan works well. I grabbed the old remote and ran out the door, threw it in the driveway and backed over it with the car.

All is well in my world!

Tablespoon

Yep. Still a poop blog.

The nurse called and said that, "the sample in one of the bottles was not sufficient to perform the needed test."

Seriously???

So, I've just unscrewed the entire freaking toilet and I'm headed to the lab.

Fever, Coughs, and the ever present pooping party

If you want to read a blog that is filled with hope and beauty, you've come to the wrong place, my fiends. Run.Away.Fast.

It's lunchtime on Monday and I think I've already gagged 47 times - just today.

"Don't," you say. "Just stop there." "We get it - it's gross at your house."

But I must give you at least a little more info.

"Nooo, really it's ok," you say - as fear begins to rise in your voice a bit. You sense that you should stop reading now in case this gets too gross. But you read a little bit more to see, if perhaps it's MORE funny than it is gross.

And my response to your line of reasoning to continue reading is...YOU ARE AN IDIOT. There is NO WAY this is gonna be more funny than gross.

Here's how it goes down.

~Son spikes a fever last night, 102

~Both son and daughter coughing a lot

~Already planned to take son to Dr. this a.m. for lab work to figure out the ever present poop issues

~Call Dr. to get an appointment (as well as lab) to check out his lungs due to the cough and fever

~Drive daughter to school

~Daughter begins to cough in the car and then starts to make a "funny" noise in an effort to get my attention. I turn to look at her and it is clear that she has something in her mouth. I can tell it's not puke. Honestly, I would rather it be puke. My worst nightmare is coming true. It's...well, ahem...you know.

~I hand her a pile of kleenex.

~She spits.

~Then begins to comment.

~I try to stop her from looking and describing it.

~She will NOT be stopped.

~She says, "Oh it's green, why am I coughing up green?"

~I am gagging so hard that I cannot answer and I cannot see to drive the car.

~I pull up at school and kick her out, wishing her well at school - and warning her NOT to do that spit thing in front of her very, very pregnant teacher - poor thing.

~Son and I head to the Dr.

~Lots of people are sitting in the lab waiting room. Most are blowing their noses or should be blowing their noses.

~One old man smelled like poop - or worse.

~They call our name and draw 6 vials of blood from my son. Good grief!

~He screams and yells the entire time. Not really crying - mostly screaming, "Get away from me!"

~Next, they hand me a pack of bottles and labels. Explaining that this is the poop collection kit. Great.

~I promptly leave and go to McDonalds to get my son breakfast. Because when he eats, he poops.

~He eats.

~He needs to poop.

~I climb in the back-seat and have him poop in the collection "hat" they gave to us being careful to...well, just being careful.

~I clean him up and move him out of the way.

~I then begin the process of unscrewing each of 5 lids and scooping a tablespoon (as per the directions) of pooh in to each bottle. Yep - gagging.

~I need 5 1/2 tablespoons of poop to finish the collection process.

~My son pooped 4 1/2 tablespoons.

~My car stinks - bad.

~I am wearing gloves - for all of you wondering.

~Label and return all but one bottle - hoping that my son could poop one more tablespoon before we leave. He does not.

~Check in for Dr. appt.

~No pneumonia, maybe influenza.

~Leave with meds and a sucker.

~All is well.

My theory

I have very, very strong opinions. I have lots of theories. I am always right.

One of my many theories includes children's bedrooms. Here are the main points:

~It's their space

~They will eventually take care of their house when they grow up.

~They vacuum it once a week and if that includes vacuuming up crap on the floor...so be it.

~If it smells I close the door

~I fight too many battles each day to make cleaning a bedroom a battle

~Beds don't need to be made...it's a waste of time and energy.

That's my theory in a nutshell.

So...what did I do this afternoon? I walked past my daughter's room and almost had a stroke. I then cleaned it.

That's the problem with my theories. They suck.

I am SOOOO cool!

The Wailin' Jennys signed my shirt and I'm never taking it off!

O.k. I'm kidding - kinda.

The concert was awesome and the Jennys were fab. My friend and I had a great time being all cool...it comes pretty naturally.