Rambling Rave: Mr. Bubbles

As you read this, Jeremy and I are probably in the midst of enjoying a rare little getaway. (Thanks to Grandma L. who was nice/insane/overmedicated enough to agree to staying with the crazies). We're taking off to drive to see THIS GUY...Michael Buble. He's performing in Bossier City (near Shreveport) and we're staying overnight. It's about 3 1/2 hours away, good shopping along the way, and lots of great food because of all the casinos. (Grandma R.--if you're reading this, I know you're jealous! And now mortified because I've outed your one weakness. But don't worry, there are lots of "Grandma"s out there--no one will know it's you! P.S. I'll pull a few one-armed bandits for you.)

We'll be journeying kid-free in a car without car seats, NOT listening to The Wheels on the Bus, stopping only when we want to (or when Jeremy needs one of his four potty breaks), and without all the typical screaming, whaling, and gnashing of teeth (at least if Jeremy obeys all traffic signs).

This has been the longest week! Today's departure couldn't be better timing for me to escape the perils of Motherhood for a few treasured hours. Let's just say, this week's been one of those that when someone asks you how you are doing, you bite your lip really hard so that you don't start crying.

I've been to the doctor twice for myself, twice with kids, changed about 150 diarrhea diapers, and been thrown up at/on about 6 times. I was actually quite proud that my reflex barf didn't kick in all over their little barfy heads. I managed to clean them and their messes with only minimal gagging...a first for me. I have also developed a new appreciation and love for antibiotics. I have been on two back to back for : a sinus infection, bronchitis, double ear infections, and then Wednesday for another UTI. (If you don't know what that is, it probably means you've never suffered from one, which means you are a terrifically lucky and blessed person). On top of all this, Jeremy's been in or preparing for depositions every day for the past two weeks--which translates to ridiculously early mornings and late nights. The kids were berserk and needed a good wrestling match, which I was in no shape to offer.

So now that I can finally hear in both ears again, I'm looking forward to hearing me some Buble! I'll let you know how it goes--and Grandma, I'll mail you any winnings!

Rant: The Amazing Shrinking Bed

Jeremy commented that I have raved and rambled, but I haven't shared any rants. I guess it's because I'm just such an awesomely upbeat and optimistic person, negative things rarely come into my thoughts. Ha ha. Right. I wish. So here's today's rant...dedicated to the one who nagged me to do it.

For eight and a half of the nearly 10 years of married life, we have owned a queen size bed. Not large and luxurious, but sufficient nevertheless. (More sufficient some years than others, based on our ever changing waistlines). When we finally decided to move-on-up in the world and get a king size bed (after suffering and squeezing into/onto the queen thru three pregnancies that yielded four kids), I thought my clinging-to-the-edge-for-dear-life-days were over.

Now I must backtrack a bit. I was never under the illusion that I married a rugged, macho, tough, outdoorsy type of a guy--for which I've always been perfectly happy. However--things have progressed a bit too far in the un-macho direction. In the past few years, Jeremy has become very high maintenance about his sleeping routine. He requires AT A MINIMUM : two pillows for under his head and two 6-foot long, full-length body pillows--one for each side. He literally entombs his body in pillows each night. Every inch of his body has to be in contact with at least one pillow. Has there ever been a better version of "The Prince and the Pea?"

It should also be noted that these requirements are not null and void while traveling. I have been embarrassed on more than one occasion when he calls the hotel concierge and asks them to bring up six extra pillows--to compensate for the lack of body pillows. And the poor guy looks at us like we're crazy when he sees just two people and 4,000 pillows. But the better option (according to the pillow-king) is to stop off on the way from the airport at a bedding store in order to purchase the necessary pillows. When we depart, they are then left with whomever we were visiting or the baffled maid cleaning the hotel room.

Total to date spent on pillows while traveling: $6,873. You too may one day be the recipient of enough pillows to house a family of six.

You may still ask, "well, why do you care?" And the easy answer is, I wouldn't... IF THEY WOULD STAY ON HIS SIDE OF THE BED. I no longer get to enjoy all the vast space offered by our new huge bed. I'm back to feeling squished and shoved off of my rightful 3 feet of bed space; reliving the nightmare of being smothered to death with every toss and turn. After 10 years, is a little wiggle room while sleeping too much to ask?

Not to mention...it's a bit embarrassing having to admit that my husband is a pillow-addict/sleeping snob.

Ramblings: Tooth Fairy

So after being sad that he was one of the last ones in his class to start losing teeth, Alex has finally started losing a couple. The first one was of course, dangling by a thread because he was afraid it was going to hurt. Then one night, he swallowed it while sleeping. He wasn't too devastated, just so excited he finally had a hole in his teeth to stick his tongue through.

A couple of days after that, another tooth became loose and fell out. This time he was very motivated to remember the Tooth Fairy. We had him put it in an envelope and then we suggested he write a letter to the T.F. to see if she might also leave a little cash for the tooth he had swallowed. We also told him that it might be a good idea to give her a good reason why she should do this...


He frantically scribbled this out while he was headed up to bed. (I promise his penmanship is usually better than this). The "2.00" was his suggested price/tooth. It's nice to know he at least thought about giving his T.F. money to the poor. And, yes, she did indeed leave him some $ for both teeth. But as far as I know, that money went to Dick's Sporting Goods for one "really cool" yo-yo. Hmm. Maybe the poor will benefit from his next T.F. visit.

Ramblings: Brotherly Love

Shrieks, screams, sobbing. These are the typical sounds I hear when the boys (Avery and Aidan) are "playing" together. Oh, and add to the list shouts of "Mi-i-i-i-ne" and "No, no, no!" They are at that difficult age where sharing is not part of either's plan. Aidan, who outweighs Avery by a good 4 pounds and is about an inch taller, is typically the stealer of anything tempting by strong-arming Avery...or sitting on him. Aidan is also the bigger whiner when something he wants is in Avery's possession and he cannot muscle it away from him.

Occassionally, there are screams of pain that originate when Avery tires of Aidan's pushing and pulling, and resorts to his learned defense mechanism: biting. When this happens, Aidan runs to find me, shows the tell-tale teeth marks, and says in his funny voice, "A-wee bite. A-wee bite." Translation: Avery bite. Avery bite. Then he reenacts the biting episode by pretending to bite his own arm and then pointing again to the teeth marks. Once Avery is appropriately disciplined, Aidan is miraculously cured and his screaming stops.

So, imagine my surprise when today I was in the kitchen and heard giggling, incoherent babbling, and the occassional "boo!" Now, these sounds are not uncommon. But usually are heard when the older kids are entertaining the boys, when they are playing solo, or when they are collaborating on destroying some prized possession of mine (or just playing in the toilet. Apparently, that is awesome and hilarious fun). But when I went to find out what was up, I found them actually playing together. Playing! No quotations around the word needed--they were getting along! Yea! Hope for the future of their relationship. They were chasing each other around their big play school bus activity center. One would stick his head out somewhere, shout "Boo!" and elicit a great laugh from the other.



But as I type this, they have reverted back to the hate part of their love/hate relationship and are both trying to squeeze themselves into a laundry basket I left by the stairs. Currently, Aidan (the heavy weight) has his shoulder planted squarly in Avery's face to keep him from getting in. He's doing this while climbing in himself, which is actually quite an impressive sight. Luckily, Maddie has intervened and distracted Avery with a big toy bucket to squeeze into--not as good as the basket, but unless he gains a few pounds in the next five minutes or Aidan gets close enough to latch his chompers into, the bucket will have to do.

O.K. Here goes...

I've entered the blogging world. And this is not because I believe I have anything fabulous or noteworthy to contribute, but because I've been told by my blogging buddies that it is a great form of therapy. We'll see....I'll keep you posted (no pun intended) on my psychological condition and any improvements (or further deterioration) I see after a few weeks of blogging. I could and would become a blog-addict if there were little elves that would sneak out while I am sitting here and do all the things I should be doing instead--like the laundry, dishes, and endless toy gathering.

I promise I'll have something better to say the next time I post...ok, I can't really promise that. But I'll try.