Rant: Reading can kill you

Ok. I'll admit that it's taken me about two weeks to get over being nauseous about this to be able to write about it. But here goes. And let this be a lesson to all of you out there to remind your kids of things that you think they probably already know....nagging doesn't hurt as much as the alternative could.

So one morning I went to wake Maddie up and as soon as I opened her door I was hit with a smell. It was a foul, burnt-rubber, noxious smell that hurt my face to breathe in. I frantically looked around to figure out where it was coming from when I realized that her little Ikea bedside lamp was on. Oh, but not only was it on, but it had been on all night long. Oh, and not only had it been on all night long, but it had been covered with a pink doggie blanket all night long. And not only had it burnt a huge hole in the blanket, but it had gotten hot enough to melt the entire plastic lampshade and neck almost completely off. An entire scallop of the shade had been melted, too. I think when I came in at 6:15 that morning, the entire lamp/blanket combo was probably an hour away from starting on fire. That smell was one that I will not forget soon.

It turns out our little bookworm that reads before bed every night wasn't quite ready to turn off her lamp and go to sleep the night before. In an effort to avoid getting busted while she was reading, she covered it with her favorite pink dog blanket from when she was a baby. And then of course she fell asleep before turning the lamp off. And she slept with her head about 2 feet away from that potential fireball all night long. And the lamp only takes one of those tiny chandelier light bulbs that's barely 25 watts or something. I think my reaction to finding it smoking and almost on fire was enough to scare her straight.

When I realized how bad that situation might have become, I almost threw up. Her room is upstairs and at the very end of the hallway--it would've taken me awhile to wake up and even get up there in the event there was a fire. I just keep picturing her trying to get out of her room that is totally ablaze and her being engulfed in flames because it started so close to where she sleeps. I couldn't help but think that at some point during her 6 1/2 years, I had surely explained the danger of covering a light bulb with something and the risk of starting a fire.

Now go find every kid you can--your own, or the neighbors', even random kids in the mall and tell them: NEVER PUT ANYTHING ON TOP OF A LAMP! Light bulbs get really HOT! Nag them till they get it through their little, squishy heads.

Rave: A Glimmer of Hope

Yesterday was THE day. We smooshed and smashed all the crazies into their "Going to Town" clothes, slicked back their cowlicks, and headed off for our yearly pictures. I haven't seen any of the real ones yet, but when we were done, I ordered the nutjobs to stay put and took a few of my own.

Luckily it was mild weather--not raining and freezing or freakishly sunny and sweltering, so our layered outfits weren't an issue. Now I'm not saying we don't have PLENTY of other issues, but complaining about being too hot or too cold was thankfully not on the list. And I have a small, tiny, scared, timid glimmer of hope hiding in the deepest, darkest recesses of my brain that we may end up with a decent, usable picture. At least one wherein everyone looks human rather than alien, and is not exhibiting any signs of rabies.

Keeping their attention for an extra 5 minutes proved challenging, but I got a few of them at their silliest. Avery thought it was "cool" to put his hands in his pockets--but his pants were a bit big and kept sliding down. By the end, he was in this completely hunched over position just to keep his hands in his pockets. Hey, looking cool is sometimes hard work.
Happy Turkey Day. Now go ahead and unbutton those jeans and enjoy a good day of marathon eating.

Ramblings: And many more...

Today we celebrated the entrance of this little nugget to the world. I married a much larger version of this six pounder, but the eyebrows and that worried looking forehead are pretty much still the same. And now I'm laughing because Aidan just walked up and said, "What happened to that baby? He looks weird!"

He celebrated his big day by getting up at 5 to go in to work early to get ready for some court thing he had this afternoon. The kids were baffled that he had to go to work on his birthday. "But it's his birthday!?"

The kids picked out a new wallet for him--and he owes me one because I steered them away from the "really awesome" gray velcro wallet that Maddie loved. Nothing screams "I'm worth the big $$ you're paying me" to your clients after an important business lunch than whipping out your AmEx from a gray flannel velcro wallet circa 1988. And I think there was a skull on one flap. So...an attorney with an edgy skater side, maybe. Luckily we agreed on a simple black leather one.

And he'd be toying around with his new iphone if the people at the AT&T store weren't ridiculous. (His old one just bit the dust--or he broke it on purpose. The timing is strikingly suspicious.) They wouldn't let me buy one on our account because Jeremy is the primary name on the account and they needed his permission. I explained it was a gift and he was in court, so I couldn't get the "verbal authorization" from him even if I wanted to. Too bad, so sad. No can do. So after waiting in that stupid store for them to "try to see if they could do it" for 20 minutes, we left empty-handed and ended up having to wrap one of the boys' big plastic cell phones. Buy your own present, sucka. I guess they want it to be really difficult for people to give phones as Christmas gifts...an interesting business plan.

And despite the 60-some delectable, intricate, time-consuming recipes in the dessert section of my recipe binder, I knew what he would want for his birthday "cake." That grin on his face tells me I was right. His all-time favorite treat--it's like one giant peanut butter cup. It's a pathetic looking birthday cake, though. But I have to admit that I appreciated the fact that it only took 10 minutes from start to finish.

Spiderman was nice enough to attend the party in case his services were needed. But he had to remove his hood and reveal his true identity to help blow out the random candles that the kids jammed in the "cake".

Happy Birthday! Now go buy your own present.

Ramblings: I'm behind again

It's not my fault. Really. I have to fight for time to sit at the computer for any length of time. Either I'm pulled away by someone needing something (like their heads removed from between the slats of the stairway banister) or I'm kicked out of the way by kids wanting to play some game immediately or their heads will explode. And those are only a few of my excuses for being a stinky blogger lately. The others involve my utterly-diminished mental capacity, chauffeuring 300 kids to their various activities, and throwing food at all the little mouths that are constantly screaming about being hungry. Dang hummingbird metabolisms.

So I'll be doing a hodgepodge/junkity junk list of JUNK from the past few days.

1. Monday was my birthday. I'm getting old, but I feel older. I've always felt older than I actually am. That's what four kids before you're thirty will do to you, I suppose.

My dad called from New York with birthday tidings and asked if I feel like I'm in my thirties.
My response: No, I feel like I'm in my 50's. And then I yawned seven times in a row--I couldn't help it--it was 4:00 in the afternoon and that's when that mid-afternoon drowsiness hits me. His response: That's how old I am. To which I had to quickly offer the too-little-too-late response of: Not that fifty-something is old. Haha.

But in sadder news, I found a giant GRAY HAIR sticking right out in the front. The non-existent-butt genes are apparently not the only ones I inherited from Dad. I've got a completely silver hairdo to look forward to in the near future. I wonder if he has any extra boxes of Just for Men left over from when he dyed his hair for all those years...

Jeremy and I went out to run some errands and get dinner that night. Before we left, Jeremy said, "Everyone get with Mom and I'll take some pictures." And now you will witness the evolution of a typical WWF smackdown between the boys. Aidan's dressed like a spunky hobo. And you can see Pork Chop peeking out by the kitchen cupboards. She's such a ham. Get it? I crack myself up.


2. I hate when my technology nags me. My computer, my phone, my Tivo. They're just as whiny as the kids..."You did not eject that device properly"..."Are you sure you want to delete that?"..."You haven't updated your files in 7 years, wouldn't you like to do that now?" Who's in charge here? Stop judging me! Back off and give me some space.

3. Alex had his last baseball game of the season on Tuesday night right after his piano lessons. We raced over to the field and as we pulled up, I realized that I hadn't remembered to bring any balls or toys to entertain the little kids. I was too worried about figuring out how and what to administer for dinner amidst all the running around. Plus, it was freezing and I definitely hadn't dressed warmly enough. I'm usually stress-sweating so typically I don't even carry a coat around with me. Brrr. Luckily, it had rained a few days before and the boys found some semi-wet dirt to play with while I jazzersized behind the bleachers to keep warm. They spent almost an hour digging and throwing balls of mud at a fence to see if it would stick. Yes, I know what you're thinking. They were totally muddy disasters by the time it was over, but I was sure glad boys are entertained by such simple things. Maddie watched and tried NOT to get dirty. And I was sure glad girls aren't usually as dirty.

Avery learned an important lesson about not walking in front of your brother while he's trying to pee on a fence. I glanced back just as his pants were being "watered." Nice to meet you, white trash children. Not only do they pee in public, they pee ON each other in public. See the darker brown wet trail on Avery's leg? It's not just a shadow. He assured me, "It'll dry!" I think he was worried if I knew he was covered in urine, I'd make him go home. I didn't. I couldn't--I was stuck there in case I had to protect Alex from the verbally abusive assistant coach (nice, right?) in between watching the boys pee on each other and screaming empty threats that I would stick them in the car for time-outs if they threw any more mud balls at the spectators. I think they knew I was bluffing since the car was parked a mile away.

**Disclaimer**No innocent parents or baseball players were injured in the mudball flinging. But Alex would like to assure you that his crotch would've been 100% protected in the event Avery hurled one at him below the belt. After he gets dressed before every game, he runs around the house forcing everyone to punch his cup, exclaiming, "See! It doesn't even hurt!" And we have to act like it's not something we seen every week before. Boys=simple pleasures.

Alex plays 3rd base and caught a high fly ball for an out and then managed to get to second base on a hit that only went about 10 feet. I was just impressed and relieved that he was looking in the right direction for the majority of the game. Baseball's a little slow-paced for him. Basketball season's next and his favorite sport, partially because he's moving full-speed most of the time. He wisely observed at the end of last season, "Why is it that African-Americans are so much better at basketball?" He's learned early that white boys can't jump.

4. I'm almost done with the front room. My hope is to finish the picture wall frames when we get our pictures back from the dreaded Christmas photo session next week. There's a couple empty ones and one with an unknown family, though I may keep that one in there because they're posed so much better than we'll ever look. Every year I have high hopes that are dashed within the first 10 minutes by screaming, wild, uncooperative little crazy people. But maybe this is the year....see, there's my dumb optimism again. We'll know soon enough.

Don't you love my zebra chair? Jeremy wouldn't let me upholster the entire couch in it, so I settled for the chair.

5. Yesterday was One of Those Days. If you've had One Of Those Days, you'll understand why I capitalized it. It was a mom's perfect storm of bad days--cranky, tired kids, tons to do, disasters left and right, and a headache that started at 7:30 in the morning and never went away. (Jessica--I think you had O.O.T.D. a few days ago.)

Poor Brooke even ran into us at Kroger and got to witness a few minutes of why Kroger now has my and the boys' pictures hanging in the front of the store under a giant heading "Under NO CIRCUMSTANCES are any of these people allowed on the premises. Ever. Under penalty of death and/or dismemberment."

That's how lovely they were while I was buying the ingredients for an African dinner that Jeremy was supposed to prepare to go along with a presentation he was giving to the youth group at our church. (He lived in east Africa for 2 years as a missionary--in case you were wondering...) Except that he was running late from work (of course), so I got to cook the authentic African meal (have I mentioned that I have ZERO experience making African food??) in between cooking and feeding a separate meal to the kids, picking up Maddie from gymnastics, and trying to get Alex to finish his homework so he could get ready for scouts. Oh yeah, and busting Avery hiding in the hall closet under coats eating half-melted popcycles and dodging Aidan's shoes that he kept throwing at my face because he was mad I wouldn't let him eat fruit snacks for dinner.

Yesterday made me really glad that I don't drink. Cuz Jeremy would've come home to one frightful scene, with me completely passed out smack dab in the middle of the chaos, kung-fu gripping an empty bottle of whatever liquor could make everything disappear. I managed to hold my crap together until about 8:35 and then I was toast. Jeremy was still gone at the church activity and I had been up and down the stairs about 23 times trying to get the boys to stay in bed. But they were thirsty. But they needed bandaids. But they needed covered up again. But they had to pee (luckily not on each other). But they needed lotion because their skin hurt. AUGHHHHHHH. {Insert sound of mental breakdown here.}

And this was all after the 20 minute shower ordeal in which they decided to empty anything and everything contained in a bottle, and then smear the concoction all over the glass shower walls. And then accidentally in their eyeballs--your inference is correct that they screamed their heads off because their eyeballs were burning out of their heads.

The day after O.O.T.D. always seems better, because as long as your house doesn't burn down and your fingers don't get sheared off in a freak blender accident, it's a pretty good day in comparison.

6. I switched all the wooden blinds from white to espresso in the boys' room in an attempt to block out even more light to hopefully cause them to sleep in later than they are currently. Since the time change, they've been clomping down the stairs, turning on every light in the house at about 5:45. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? It's not even light then, but as the sun starts coming up earlier, I'm hoping the blinds do the trick. Even if it buys me 5 extra minutes of sleep, the $$$ to Lowe's was totally worth it. They were having a "campout" when I snapped this. And that floor lamp wasn't designed to bend at a 45* angle--that would be the boys' handiwork again.

7. This photo is Aidan to a T. I love it.
It's one of the personality traits that I see in my kids that I know comes directly from me. Part OCD/and part lover of organization. He spent a long time getting the shape just right. He was so pleased with his work. What a funny, spunky hobo.

7. I told Maddie last week at her haircut appointment that when I get my hair done, I usually look like a Martian. She didn't believe me so I took a picture in the mirror today to prove it to her. Martian. With giant man-hands. I'm hoping that was just a weird angle. But now at least I'm a former Martian with fresh highlights.

8. After that I had to return something to Old Navy and was pleasantly surprised to see that the clearance racks were an additional 50% off. So check near you and see--there was still alot of really good stuff for the kids at least. I don't have the patience to even look through the 3000 racks in the women's section.

9. I had a strange encounter with a Salvation Army guy that was manning a donation bucket outside a store. As I was walking up to stick a dollar in the red bucket, he flashes a huge (slightly creepy) grin. And then he starts thanking me for donating--you know the normal stuff they say.

But then it got kinda weird. He sort of follows me while I'm walking in, saying all sorts of strange things. "You're an angel. An angel! An angel sent straight down from heaven. Such a gorgeous addition to this good earth. A blessing straight from heaven, I assure you. An Angel. " And the whole time he's following me and getting closer and closer while I'm sort of nodding and trying to flee in a polite way. But by now we were all the way through TWO sets of doors and are by the shopping cart area. Go man your bucket, man! Do they do background checks on those folks? This guy must have slipped through the cracks. Or he was on crack. Dunno.

10. Alex's 9th birthday is in a few weeks. I had a weird realization about how old he's getting when I was hanging some laundry in his closet. His clothes no longer fit on the child's size hangers because they're just too big and they fall off. That was weird. How the heck do I have a kid big enough to use adult sized hangers? We asked him what he wants for his birthday and he said, "Hmm. I don't know. Probably just alot of cash." Oh brutha.

11. At the risk of jinxing his large intestine, I'm happy to announce that Avery's undies have been poop-free for over a week now. Whoo-Hoo. My gag-reflex and the utility sink are very thankful. We'll hope he can keep it up. I don't know what it has to do with using the toilet, but every time he has a successful #2 on the toilet he tells me, "See! I told you! My legs are growing longer!" If that's what it takes, then I hope his legs keep growing everyday.

And thus concludes the world's longest post. And if you actually read all of that, then 1) you're most likely related to me and feel some sort of pity-filled obligation and 2) You're an ANGEL--straight from heaven. A blessing to this beautiful earth! God bless you!

Ramblings: To the Tune of Old MacDonald

My older kids reminded me that I was remiss in writing about something rather momentous in our house. And for once it doesn't have anything to do with poop. Well, mostly non-poop related.

For YEARS now I've been harassed and harassed and harassed. About many things really, but about one thing in particular. And I've endured being called names like, "Meanie" and "party-pooper." They've flip-flopped between attempting to bribe me and threatening my bodily safety. And for years, none of their tactics have worked.

But since my brother and his wife did this to their dogs----I haven't heard the end of it. "It's not fair--everyone else has pets!"... "We don't have ANYTHING we can dress up for Halloween!" ..."We're the only kids in the whole world without a pet!"

I've always held firm that until everyone in the house poops solely on the toilet, we will not be adding any non-human creature that contributes to my amount of poop-cleaning.

Alex's friend was over last week and asked me why we didn't have a pet. (I'm not sure how much Alex paid him...but he was really trying to lay on a guilt trip. Why did I feel bad being judged by a 9 year old?) Before I could say anything, Maddie chimed in, "Everyone has to poop on the toilet first. There's too much poop around here." Dang straight.

Well, these days I'm happy to report that there is not much poop flying around. Aidan's been potty-trained for about 7 months now and was really easy. Avery on the other hand has been a stubborn, hot mess of a poop-ball. He's been potty trained with his #1's now for a long time. Easy-cheesy. But poops have been a major issue for this kid. He tries to hold it in--he does not want to waste time sitting on the toilet. Which inevitably means he is constantly making himself extremely, painfully constipated. And then when he does finally go, it's like delivering a four pound poop baby. Not pretty. We had about a month of bi-weekly appointments with glycerin suppositories and his hiney.

But it seems as if he's finally realized that sitting on the toilet for a few minutes every day is much easier than clenching his bumcheeks and tiptoeing around because of the pain resulting from trying to hold in more waste than I thought physically possible for his body to contain. And I'm really relieved that he's finally caught on, because if you thought changing poopy diapers was bad, then you've never tried to change a pair of poopy underwear on a sweaty kid at a playground in the back of a minivan during playgroup, when his body finally decided it had reached ultimate poop capacity and was going to get rid of the load even though the most tightly clenched bumcheeks.

Sorry--I got off on a poop tangent there. Old habits are hard to break. And poop tangents are extremely plentiful in my world.

So back to the pet issue. I did my research. I searched high and low. I wanted something easy. Something fairly clean. Something low-maintenance. Something that the kids couldn't disfigure and/or maul too easily. Something that wouldn't bite the kids appendages or faces off when they become overly excited and invade its space. Something that wouldn't add more noise to this excruciatingly loud house.

And so...I am happy to introduce you to our new pet.

Her name's Pork Chop. As you can see, she's the perfect size--just a little bigger than a football. She's not messy. She was fairly easy to train. She's held up pretty well so far. We've only had to perform surgery three times so far--both her ears have been broken off and reattached after the kids got a bit too rambunctious with her. She hangs out in a corner of the kitchen so she can eat scraps when they fall on the floor. Occasionally she gets used as a stepping stool, but luckily she's got a surprisingly strong back. And the kids like to blame her for stuff that they don't want to fess up to, but she doesn't mind.

Me: Who spilled cereal all over the floor!?
Them: PORK CHOP!
Me: Who pushed the chair over to the counter, climbed up, stole candy from the cupboard, and then left trash everywhere?
Them: Pork Chop!

That is one talented ceramic pig. And for now, it satisfies my pristine pet requirements and the kids were at least temporarily amused by my joke.

That'll do, pig. That'll do.

And right after I finished typing this, I went to load everyone in the car to go get Maddie's hair cut and I saw this as I opened the door. This. This further proof that we don't need another living, breathing, PEEING precocious creature around here.

Me: What is this?
Aidan: Pee.
Me: Who peed in the garage?
Aidan: um... Avery? (With a completely guilty look on his face while hoping that I believe Avery is the guilty pee-er.)
Me: Why did you pee in the garage Aidan?
Aidan: I dunno. I wanted to.

It's safe to say that Pork Chop is going to be the only pet around here for a LONG while.

And here's the after of Maddie's haircut--she wouldn't smile. I forgot to take the before. The front has shorter layers than the back because her bangs are almost completely grown out after about a year or so of waiting for them to catch up. She wants "a short haircut to her chin" but I told her she has to wait until it's all the same length first.

Plus, I've made the dreaded appointment for our family pictures to be taken next week and I'm trying to keep everyone looking as normal as possible. However, I'm fearful that the photographer may capture far too much of our normal in the picture--meaning lots of elbowing, poking, crying, and quite possibly some random peeing. If you think I'm joking, check out the family picture on the right from last year.

Maybe we should bring Pork Chop along...

Ramblings: It's beginning to look alot like...

Every year the day after Halloween, I officially bust out all my Christmas songs. Before you even begin to make fun of me, save your energy. I've heard it all before--Jeremy gives me a hard time every year when he comes in the house and hears Christmas music and Thanksgiving hasn't even passed yet. Not to mention it's been 80* the past couple of days, so it does seem funny listening to songs talking about snow, cold weather and sleigh bells.

Sarah McLachlan's Christmas cd is still one of my favorites and I forget how much I like it until the day after Halloween when I allow myself to start playing it again. So I'm wondering, what's your favorite Christmas album? I need to add more to my collection since I have two WHOLE months I get to listen to it...

If you're in the mood for fun, upbeat music that's NOT Christmas related, then try this album. Remember these guys from the late 90's? I think I like this one even more than I loved their first one back then. I double-dog-dare you to listen to "She's Got the (Who-Hoo)" or "Girls Were Made to Love" without busting out some dance moves. Impossible.

And now, I must flee because the kids are home and have gotten their Halloween trick-or-treating bags down from on top of the fridge and are making off like bandits because they know I'm not patrolling their consumption. If only they knew I've already eaten out all the good stuff. Don't worry---the busting waistband on my shorts is quite aware that I've scarfed everything Butterfinger, Snickers, and Peanut M&M's related.

Ramblings: Sugarshock

My body is slowly coming out of the pre- and post-Halloween sugar-funk that it's been in. Let's just say, I had to restock our candy supply about three times before Halloween actually arrived. And now I have a HUGE list of random blog-JUNK for you.

1. The kids were sort of punks this year about costumes. I usually really get into planning their costumes and coming up with funny and unique ideas for them. This year the older kids VETOED all my suggestions and wanted to do ridiculously boring costumes.

So instead of The Village People like I wanted, I ended up with a witch, a vampire, a SWAT team guy whose too-big pants kept falling off, and fireman that "kills badguy fires" with his water hose.
And yes, if they all would've agreed to the Village People, I was going to make Jeremy wear that sailor's hat whether he liked it or not. He would've pretended he hated it, even though I'm pretty sure he would've loved every minute of it. I was pretty done with Halloween and applying makeup and relocating everyone's costumes by the time it was actually over.

The boys had 2 Halloween parties--one at school and one with their playgroup the next day. Then I had to get all the kids dressed up and haul them downtown after school for Jeremy's office Halloween party (the pirate's not ours but he's a friend that the kids love meeting up with at office parties).

Everyone's kids run around the office and the ladies there basically hurl truckloads of sugar into their buckets as they whiz by over and over again.

Then on Saturday, they got to go to three parties. First a birthday party for their cousin, then a giant Halloween party at their friends' house (I think there were about 40 kids there), and then the church's dinner and trunk or treat. I was pooped by Saturday night but they were buzzing on their sugar highs.

They played a game where they had to get mummified in toilet paper by a partner. Maddie wanted me to be her partner and I did an awesome job because I've had so much experience tying the boys up like this when they're being naughty. The tootsie roll wrapping Alex needs some practice. Maddie kept shedding her wig and hat because it was almost 80*. Even her long fake purple eyelashes were melting off.

2. The city switched my garbage day from Monday to Tuesday a couple of months ago and it's still freaking me out. I don't like it. I want Monday back. It was a nice way to start the week and easy to remember on Sunday night. Tuesday trash days--I don't like you.

3. Yesterday Avery and Aidan verbally attacked me. They followed me around my room asking me when we were "going to get more babies." What?! Apparently they are convinced that babies always come in the plural form. I said, "Hmmm. You want more babies? How are we going to do that?" To which Aidan's brilliant answer was (and for pretty much any question), "WE HAVE TO GO TO COSTCO!"

If anywhere was selling babies in bulk, it would be Costco I guess. And then Avery screamed, "But we have to PAY FOR THEM FIRST." He's used to getting lectured that he can't open the stuff in our cart until we pay for it first. (Not that we don't bust open the grapes and scarf 1/2 of the container before we reach the checkout.) I'm also quite sure that if the baby section was right by the food counter, and they had to choose between new babies or hot cinnamon and sugar churros, they'd be stuffing their faces with that messy, fried goodness in two seconds flat.

4. I made two loaves of banana nut bread last night right before I went to bed. And all night long I felt like I was dreaming in smells. And then I'd wake up and I'd realize that the whole house still smelled like banana bread. It was really weird. Welcome to the freaky corners of my mind. Needless to say I was really hungry this morning.

5. I flooded the garage last night when I forgot that I left the water in the utility sink on trying to blast the poop-accident out of Avery's undies. Of course I got distracted, left it running and told myself that I needed to remember to turn it off in a few minutes, and then totally forgot about it. The undies got wedged in the drain, the three-foot-deep sink filled up pretty fast, and then just started producing a tidal wave that filled my entire garage with water. And because our awesome new garage doors actually have a really good rubber seal on the bottom, I was basically converting my garage into a swimming pool. So I opened the doors and watched a flood cover my driveway. I spent the next hour on damage control and used our giant broom to sweep the inches of water out of the garage. Grrr. See, I told you that poop is the root of all EVIL.

And Dena, here's a picture of the fabulous new doors as you requested. I'm glad someone else is interested, because I can talk about them night and day. Nothing fancy, but the TAUPE ( NO! NOT WHITE, NOT ALMOND!) matched almost perfectly and they actually OPEN and CLOSE, so that's a bonus. Pardon the shadows from our neighbors' trees. Funny, he planted them on his side of the fence line but WE get to trim them twice a year since they grow right over into our yard. They are worth it for the shade, though.

And Alainna--no more getting locked out after we take you to the airport. I had him install this keypad to protect us from ourselves. No more need for breaking and entering into our own house.

6. Avery threw a 20 minute screaming/crying/inspired-by-the-devil tantrum yesterday because he kept saying he wanted to "go in Texas." I told him we are already in Texas. That's the name of the place where we live. That is NOT what he wanted to hear. And no amount of explanation or logical reasoning was going to deter the kid from freaking about going in Texas. Finally I just said, "Ok. Maybe tomorrow." Good enough.



7. It's been heavenly weather this week--mid 70's and sunny. Now don't you want to go in Texas, too? We've been spending as much time as we can outside and the kids have been riding the wheels off their plasma cars. They are a BRILLIANT idea if you're looking for ideas for Christmas gifts. It's been one of the toys they've used the most. We just added this purple bad boy to our collection after I found the twins in a WWF style death match in the driveway over the one that wasn't being used. Now Alex will draw chalk racetracks around the length of the driveway and the three boys race around it while Maddie dodges between them on her bike.

The other most-coveted toy being Maddie's V-tech digital camera. The little boys love it and even Alex loves it, despite the fact it's pink. It can take video and still pictures. And you can add funny faces, hats, hair, etc to the pictures. They spent one whole Saturday taking silly videos on it. And I've been pleasantly surprised that it doesn't eat batteries like crazy. I've only changed them twice in about six months.

Definitely worth the $. The pictures aren't super awesome quality, but they don't care. I mean, when you can put silly glasses and a clown nose on someone's face, that trumps the lacking pixels.
And that's my consumer's toy report for you.

8. The kids have all of the Michael Buble songs from his new cd memorized because Jeremy is trying to brainwash them and turns it on every chance he gets. To get back at him, I'm going to teach them to play a few choice Metallica songs on the piano.

9. I had about 14 other things I could write but I'm sure if you're still reading this, you're ready for a break. I'll get back on track and try not to go so far behind that I have to write 20 page posts.

10. I couldn't end it on #9. It just didn't feel right. Have I mentioned that I have to chew as many times on the right side of my teeth as I do the left or my mouth just feels out of balance? Anyone know any good therapists? My crazy's getting the best of me.

Ramblings: Pardon me

Sorry about the absence--all the rest of us that weren't in the first round of sickies have been busy biting the dust. The boys got some stomach virus, and as much as I LOVE cleaning up throw up, I'm glad that it seems to have passed. There's nothing like cleaning vomit chunks from between the cushions of my leather couch that makes me appreciate the fact that Alex was old enough to make it to the toilet every time he threw up--which was about 100 times in 1 1/2 days. I think we're all on the mend--for now.

Jeremy decided to get the flu for a couple of days and sleep under 6 inches of down blankets because he was feverish and had the chills. One night he woke up and hollered, "I'm so HOT!" To which I replied, "Take off your blankets then." And then he said in a huff, "I'm glad you think this is funny." I didn't... but now I do since he has NO recollection of that entire event. He was delirious or high on NyQuil or something. Luckily, I only felt like a cement truck parked on my upper body for about three days. I'm finally getting my energy back and managed to vacuum the entire downstairs without sitting down for a break or passing out from dizziness.

And hopefully our sick little niece Caroline will be over the worst of it soon, too. She's been battling the flu for awhile now and just got hospitalized on Sunday with pneumonia. She's just about the happiest and smiliest kid you'll ever meet, so we hope she's home and healthy again soon. And I hear she's been promised a lifetime supply of Happy Meals out of the deal, too. I'm documenting it here for her so she'll have proof later on if her dad tries to deny it.


And congrats to Jessica who will hopefully be making it through the winter flu-free with her brand, spanking new baby boy, August.

And sadly, I hear that we won't get to see his birth video (which I really NEEDED to see because it was all-naturale and drug-free) because the camera-woman decided to get hungry in the exact 40 seconds it took Jessica to go from a 4 to 10, and then pop the little nugget out. And if you don't know what any of those numbers mean, than you FOR SURE have never been a woman in labor, or had your hand almost squeezed to death and/or your head almost ripped clean off your stump of a neck by a woman in labor.

I'm loving his little toupee of dark hair. I hope it all stays in. But then she may try to dress him in girlie clothes and stick bows in it...Four boys will make you do crazy things.

Rant: Another one bites the dust

Sunday night Alex started complaining that he was sick. At first we wrote in off as jealously because Maddie was getting all the attention and special treatment because of her "strip throat." She kept calling it something different everytime she talked about it. Stuck throat, straight throat, strepped throat, and our favorite--strip throat. Here she is

But a few hours after we went to bed, he woke us up and we knew he wasn't faking. He's been pretty miserable since then, and it went even further downhill early this morning when he started vomiting and not being able to keep anything down. The doctor was able to squeeze us in last night, so instead of going to piano lessons, we loaded up and I hauled everyone to the once-again PACKED and totally germ-infested doctor's office.

His strep test--negative. Flu-test--negative but probable. She thought that because it was early into it that his viral load wasn't high enough yet to make it positive. Or something like that. ALL the kids were screaming and fighting over my iphone and I could barely hear her in the tiny, echoing den of horrors. The kids were tired and cranky because it was dinner time, we felt like we had lived there the past few days, and angry because how dare I only own one iphone for them to share. Avery managed to snap these when he had gained possession after a major head-banging on the floor tantrum. Maddie was practicing her splits and although he was feeling crappy, Alex couldn't resist jumping down off the table to shove her the rest of the way down, eliciting an eardrum-shattering scream with some crying.

Luckily, the doctor gave us some meds for today in case he got worse. He got worse. So I filled the prescription this morning, brought it home and gave it to him, and then watched him promptly barf it up 15 minutes later. Considering I paid $150 for 10 teaspoons of the stuff, I basically watched $15 get flushed down the drain without helping him a bit. Is there a shot version of that stuff? Cuz he's still barfing and I'm afraid the tonight's dose will end up in the toilet, too.

Jeremy's out of town and just emailed me that he's now feeling sick. So we're spreading our infected joy across the map now. You're all welcome, fellow passengers on his flight. I'm sure tomorrow you'll be thanking the anonymous germ-doner with a one-finger salute as you're suffering in your fetal position, shivering from feverish chills, and wishing you were dead.

Now who's going to volunteer to come take over when I inevitably bite the dust sometime in the next week? Come on, settle down. Don't everyone speak up at once. No takers? Hmm.

Don't worry. I totally get it.

Ramblings: When Good Girls Go Bad

Do you...

...need a locale to shoot your low-budget horror flick?

...need to sharpen your blood-spatter analysis skills?

...need to practice stain-removal techniques?

...need an excuse to hate on Dora?

...have a new black light you wanna try out?

Come on over and tour...

The Crime Scene

1) Dora...The Accused Perp

2) Aidan...The Victim

3) Avery...The Witness/Crime scene expert---

Seen here trying to convince the authorities how Dora, an inanimate and immobile plastic muchacha, suddenly flew into an uncharacteristic rage and forcefully hurled herself (unassisted, of course) across the tub and into Aidan's face

The jury only had to deliberate for about 2 seconds.