Rant: Wake Up Call

Dear Anonymous,

I just wanted to take a minute and issue a blatant threat to the mystery caller that decided to call at 6:40 am on a Saturday morning and wake up my entire household. I'll assume there was no urgency or emergency that made it necessary to call that early, because you left no message.

I will hunt you down. You can try to run and hide, but rest assured I will find you. Actually, I prefer that you DON'T rest. Toss and turn all night long worrying about how I may pop out from behind any corner and hurl a poop-filled pair of pull-ups at your face. Or two. Or I'll find your trunk and dump the entire trash bag FILLED with the week's worth of stinky old pull-ups. That should smell nice simmering in the 103* heat for a few hours.

You'll have to excuse me, but I'm a tad cranky. I stayed up late last night watching Dateline and listening to Michael Jackson songs, hoping that for once the boys would sleep in past 6:30. And they did...until YOU called and ruined my chance of getting more than 6 hours of sleep.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Me

Ramblings: Joker

My bragging rights that I've never had a cavity ended this morning as my dentist injected the right side of my face with enough stuff to numb an elephant. My lifelong streak had to end sometime, I suppose. My dentist said I could blame it on the bracket thingies that they put around your molars when you get braces. Apparently, those things often lead to decay along the gum line because you can't clean under them the whole time you've got braces.

The sad thing is, in a sick way I was actually looking forward to going and sitting ALONE in the quiet of the dentist's office for an hour. (If that's not an indication to how crazy this week's been, I don't know what is.) So as he worked on my right molar, I tried to keep my half-numbed tongue out of his way while flipping between the only two decent shows I could find on the remote I was blindly using by randomly pushing buttons. At one point I couldn't get it to switch off of Jerry Springer that I had accidentally selected, and I was mortified that the dentist or his assistant would look up at the ceiling and think that I actually chose to watch "I'm in love with my first cousin and I need to find out if he's the father of my baby."

I found this picture when I was googling for funny numb-face picture. I'm not sure how I feel about it--on one hand, it shows you that your dentist has a sense of humor. And it's definitely more fun to look at then those plain boring masks.

But it could also backfire--I don't necessarily want to go to a dorky goofball that holds giant needles and tools that can potentially grind your teeth into smithereens, the whole time grinning like a reject from some small budget Little Shop of Horrors production.

When I got home, the kids thought that the slightly swollen and completely numb ride side of my face was hilarious. For whatever reason, the injections made the ride side of my mouth turn up a little like the Joker. I thought it was a great teaching/scare them straight moment so I showed them my swollen mouth and raw gums and said "THIS IS WHY YOU NEED TO DO A GOOD JOB BRUSHING YOUR TEETH!" But with my half dead face, I think it came out sounding more like, "BIS ISS BY BOO DEED DO DO DUH GOOBOB BRUBRSHBIN YOO PEEF!" and for whatever reason, they looked a little confused and concerned.

I live in fear that the kids may show signs of Jeremy's weak enamel genes and we'll spend our days working to pay off the dental bills. But the good news is that none of them have had any cavities yet, so maybe we'll be in the clear until it's time for them to get braces. And trust me, based on how crazy Alex's permanent teeth have been coming in, braces are in the near future.

Speaking of Alex and his crazy teeth...he's had a couple of loose teeth in the front that he's mentioned. Last week we noticed that his permanent teeth are already starting to grow up behind them. WHAT!? So we told him--Either you get those things out of there in the next two weeks, or we're going to the dentist and he'll pull them out. (Or another option is that we call Uncle Brent, and he'll sneak into your room while you're sleeping and rip it out with a rusty old wrench. His poor traumatized daughter...) So about 15 minutes later, he had one of them out. He has kept up his tradition of leaving a note for the Tooth Fairy and I still get a good laugh out of each one.
Some items to note: 1) He has lost almost every tooth before he has a chance to leave it for the Tooth Fairy. Plus, we need to discuss how "credit" works. 2) His penmanship has really gone downhill since school's been out. And we need to work on where to put the $ sign. 3) Is he trying to brownnose the T.F.? Since when is he worried about being greedy? Sheesh. Sadly, the Tooth Fairy can't afford 5$/tooth and he only got 3$. No mention of giving it to the poor this time.

Rant: That's what you call a BAD DAY

Ok. I've had time to calm down and work on my deep breathing exercises so now I can write about what a totally horrendous day yesterday turned out to be. Yeah, it's long--it's therapeutic for me to share my stress so DEAL WITH IT. Sorry. I'm still a tad cranky.

It started out innocently enough--Jeremy's sister Alainna and hubby Stephen were back with us for a couple of days and we were all getting ready to head out to go swimming. (I realized that I forgot to take any pictures while they were here--so one of their wedding ones will have to suffice.) But then Stephen came in looking like he sipped a giant cup of curdled milk. Apparently Orbitz had called to remind them of their flights back home--flights that were to depart in less than two hours. Flights that Stephen and Alainna thought were departing the next day. So they packed in a matter of 10 minutes, we threw all the kids in the car (convincing them that the "airport adventure" was going to be much more fun than swimming), jammed all their luggage in the back of my ridiculously small SUV rental car and tore off for the airport.

Seeing that we live an hour away, we were nervous that Stephen would get there in time (they were on separate flights and his was first. And I was driving a stupid rental car because I finally took my car in to get it fixed after the anonymous hit and run butthead smashed it all up). Luckily, his flight was 1/2 later than we thought, so everyone was there in plenty of time. Especially since we were OVER qualified for the HOV lane and I broke many posted speed limits getting there. But it was a fun "adventure" and the kids really got into it. About every two minutes they'd ask me if we were going to make it in time.

When we realized we had to leave for the airport, Alainna had just gotten back from a walk and playing with the kids at a playground in 90* heat. And then with all the stress of speed-packing and worrying about flights and how much stuff they probably left behind, the poor girl was a ball of sweat. So when I dropped her off, we were joking about how W.T. she was and about the lucky person that got to sit next to her for 3 hours.

By now it was nearing naptime and I had two sleepy 3 year olds I was trying to keep awake for the ride home, so we stopped for Happy Meals. I even got them milkshakes, thinking the cold and/or sugar would keep them awake. It worked and we arrived home and all the kids were awake--super cranky and sick of riding in the car after over 2 hours, but awake. Mission accomplished. Stephen and Alainna made their flight and the boys would made it home for naptime.

BUT WAIT. THIS IS WHEN THE DAY STARTED TAKING A TURN FOR THE MAJORLY CRAPPY.

As soon as we pulled in the driveway, I realized we were in trouble. In our panic to leave the house, I forgot to grab the key that I send Alex with to open the front door and then the garage door (because I don't have my garage door opener in the stupid rental). I walked around the house, hoping that I was as flaky as normal about locking the back door. Nope. Locked. And then I proceeded to try every stinkin' one of the 2192 windows we have on the bottom floor, but for once they were all locked. {Insert the sounds of all the kids screaming and crying. Alex: "WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO? WE'RE GOING TO DIE OUT HERE!' Maddie: "AUGHH!! I just want to GET OUT OF THIS CAR!" and then Aidan and Avery: "WE TIRED. WE NEED PACI and B. WE TIRED!" After trying every possible entrance and wasting 20 more minutes, I was the ball of sweat.

Plus, Avery had pooped on the way to the airport and I had forgotten about it until he reminded me by screaming about needing powder for his rashy bum. So I got to change that nastiness in the front seat while drenched in sweat and listening to everyone scream about how stinky the poop was.

Everyone that had extra keys was at least 40 minutes away. I was really, really tempted to bust open a window. But then I'd have to clean it up and pay to fix it so instead I called Brooke to see if maybe my brother had left his extra key at home. Nope. Of course not. But she offered to let me put the boys down for naps at her house while I located a key. So BACK IN THE CAR for 20 more minutes and loads more crying and messing with the boys so they'd stay awake. Luckily, thanks to Brooke's help, I was eventually able to get a key from my other brother's house, drive home to retrieve the stuff Alex needed for his Scout Twilight Camp that he had at 4:30, return the extra key back to my brother's, and make it back to Brooke's after yet another hour in the car. I felt like I had been in the car all day. OH WAIT--I HAD BEEN.

Then right as we were getting loaded up at Brooke's, Jeremy called and said that he got a message that the car was ready to pick up. SWEET. I get to get rid of this ridiculous rental car that has NO trunk space and is so tall that my kids can't get in without a step ladder. The boys were NOT happy about this because I had originally promised them that since we hadn't been able to go swimming that morning, I would take them to the sprinkler park after we took Alex. So during all of the rest of the crappy day, just imagine loud, frequent tantrums about how they were "apossed to go swimming" and how they were "apposed to go to the sprinkler park", but mom sucks, is the worst mom alive, and lies to her children all the time.

I went to drop Alex off at camp, and after 10 minutes weaving through the hot stinky crowd of boys, we found his group and I was off again to pick up the other car. But first to the gas station to fill up so I don't get charged the $56/gallon they hope they get to nail you with if you forget. Luckily, the minivan was ready and waiting at the body shop, so I pulled up next to it and started transferring all our junk from one to the other. We looked like homeless people that haul all their belongings everywhere with them. It took me forever. Did I mention it was like 101*? Sweat Ball. Capital S. Capital B. Giant drippy sweat ball.

Then the three carseats got moved and rebuckled in. Then the three kids got transferred and buckled in. Then I got to go in and fill out paperwork, sign everything, and turn in the keys to the rental car. "No damage to it? No problems with it?" the rental dude asked. "Nope. It was fine." I answered, hoping he would just ignore my sweaty pit stains and the river of sweat running down my neck and let me get the heck outta there. As I was pulling out, relieved that all the drama was over and I could finally get everyone home for the first time in 8 hours, he starts flagging me down.

THIS IS WHEN THE DAY GOT EVEN CRAPPIER THAN BEFORE, EVEN WHEN I THOUGHT IT COULDN'T POSSIBLY GET ANY CRAPPIER

"There is some damage to the rental car," he tells me in a snotty way like I was lying to him before. "SAY WHAT?!" No way, not a chance. We hardly went anywhere. I would have known or noticed damage. So he shows me some paint that's chipped off along the edge of the passenger door where it opens. "It must've hit something or been opened into something. Plus, it's sloping inward." This is a picture of the chipped door edge--please ignore the reflection of the white car and look for the white dotted looking spots along the door seam.

IMPOSSIBLE. It has only been opened twice in the entire time I've had it. Once at the airport today at the curb when Stephen jumped out--nothing there to hit or bump into. And once at my mom's when we parked in the middle of nowhere--nothing near to hit or bump into. The door would've had to remove itself and then leap 12 feet to the right to hit the only thing around--a tree. And I'm pretty sure I would've noticed a leaping door OR a leaping tree.

So I tell him I can't figure out HOW that would've happened and it HAD to have been there when he, the same exact dude, checked the car out to me in a frenzied hurry the week before. I appreciated that he had hurried the week before when I was picking it up and loading all the kids in, but now I was just TICKED because he had obviously just OVERLOOKED this "damage" last week in his rush, and now I was going to have to pay for it. (NOT to mention that I was having to pay for the damage done by hit and run butthead, and the extra amount for a large rental car because our insurance only allowed enough money for a small car each day. But I CAN'T HAVE A SMALL CAR because I haul FOUR CRANKY, SCREAMING, TANTRUM-THROWING kids around all day. AND WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE AT THE SPRINKLER PARK, MR. ENTERPRISE RENTAL CAR MAN! Just in case he didn't hear all the kids screaming it during our conversation regarding the damage.)

Then he typed up his little report, made me sign a copy, and said someone would call me later. And then when I call Jeremy to tell him all this on my way home, he says those dreaded lawyer-y words, "You didn't sign anything did you?" Whoops. I blamed it on the fact I had been having such a bad day and I had been sweating to the point of dehydration. "I'M DONE!" I screamed into the phone. Then I told him he was now in charge of dealing with it, gave him their phone number, and proceeded to try and tune out all screams of hotness, thirst, hunger, paralyzed bums from being in the car so long, and anything regarding the sprinkler park.

And after we finally got home, I still had to feed, bathe, and get everyone ready for bed. And catch up on all the stuff I would've been doing if I had been home all afternoon. Laundry, dishes, cleaning, blah, blah, blah. And I don't even get to enjoy my newly fixed car because I'm so annoyed about the "damage" to the rental car.

SO ADIOS, CRAPPY DAY. Now does anyone have an entire bottle of Children's Tylenol chewables I can eat?

**P.S. Stephen and Alainna--in NO way are you guys to blame for the crappy day. Speeding you guys to the airport in no way contributed to the suckiness of the day and did turn into a fun adventure. We welcome you back anytime, although I will require a paper copy of your travel itinerary upon arrival. heehee.**

Rant: Feeling No Pain--A Very Improper Math Equation

1 bottle children's chewable grape tylenol /2 (crazy 3 year olds hiding and stuffing their faces behind the couch) + 2 oblivious older siblings in the same room = 5 minute phone call with poison control + Mom's minor heart attack x 10 minutes (1/2 yelling + 1/2 stern lecturing)

Ramblings: Wedgie Maker

As much as I hate E.R. waiting rooms, I sure do devise alot of ways to end up there. Yesterday's latest and greatest: The wedgie maker.

Ramblings: Stinkin' Goat

I've had a growing list of "to-do's" around the house that I finally tackled on Saturday. With the kids out of school, I've had to accept that most days aren't going to be very productive and I will solely be serving as disaster patrol and entertainment director. So on the weekends when I have backup, I jam pack in as much stuff as I can that needs to be done.

I was impressed by the team effort--we even had the boys outside "helping." (I only got sprayed with the waterhose twice.) We got the final flat of flowers planted, flower beds weeded, the bushes and trees trimmed, the cars vacuumed, the garage swept, the big freezer defrosted and cleaned, 3 bathrooms cleaned, the toddler bed ready to sell, floors mopped, 6 loads of laundry washed and folded, the house vacuumed and dusted, the curtain rod was rehung, and the leather couches got a much needed cleaning. And Alex even got to go to his football practice from 5-7 with Dad and the boys. And after de-stinking ourselves with very refreshing showers, Maddie and I went furniture shopping with Brooke to try to find some stuff for their new house. And after about 4 hours, my throbbing feet called and said, "Uh, remember us? You are KILLING us. But at least you don't have church tomorrow until 3 PM so you can rest." My feet like to taunt me when they've been abused. So we went home and went to bed.

Am I weird? Does anyone else love a long, productive day of hard work that leaves you sweaty and sore and smelling like a farm animal? I love it. I'd do it every weekend except Jeremy starts getting a tad cranky if I announce a fully stacked "Working Saturday" every weekend. I think it's because when I'm on disaster patrol all day long, I feel like I can't really dig into any big projects and follow through until they're done. I hate that. There's always so much to be done, but if those two little demons are left unattended, I have even bigger things to worry about then dirty garages and unorganized closets.

Plus, I've made it a parenting goal that even if they learn nothing else, my kids will learn how to work. And work hard. And then work some more. Because I've seen too many teenagers and adults that don't even know how to work. Or don't think they should have to work. Ever. And it's no good. And it only leads to no good. But some good old fashioned hard work can get you farther than almost anything else. And so my kids will learn how to work, even when they are little and/or they complain alot. And one day I'm hoping they will learn to love that goat-smelling, satisfied feeling of accomplishment that results from a long, hard workday.

And hopefully that work ethic spills over to other non-manual labor work efforts, like getting straight A's and that college scholarship so Mom can buy her own Sonic franchise--or practicing their sports or instruments or whatever. Because if Avery keeps practicing and working on his basketball as much as he already does, he may just end up a short white guy in the NBA. And then he can buy me a diet coke fountain machine for Christmas to make up for how devious he was as a child. And it better be an awesome one, because he is SUPER mischievous.

Ok. I'm off that soapbox now. I went to the dentist today. On a totally random note, is it just me or does anyone else's tongue get totally ridiculously spastic about 10 minutes into the cleaning? It's like it gets a mind of its own and I can't control it. I know that I should be trying to keep it out of the poor hygienist's way, but I can't figure out how and where that is. After awhile, I just gave up and let her smash it wherever she wanted with her little mirror thingy. Tongues are so bizarre.

My computer time's up--I just heard one of the boys coming downstairs from his nap. Disaster patrol is back in action.

Ramblings: The End and the Beginning

Notice the extra bounce in his step?

The pure joy on his face?

It can only mean one thing: This was the last day he'll ever ride the bus as a second grader.

His summer (that he thinks he will waste away playing endless hours of video games, I'm sure) has officially begun.







Maddie got off the bus with an altogether different attitude.
"I DID NOT like today!" she shouted when she saw me standing with the camera.

I was shocked since today was their "Outside Play Day," complete with bubbles and water balloons, and the final day of their week of Camp Kindergarten. We were supposed to send jump ropes, balls, chalk, and anything else they could play with outside. I figured she would've had a blast.

I sent her with a brand spankin' new package of sidewalk chalk and this Crayola contraption that holds three pieces of chalk in front of a wheel and draws a 3 colored line on the ground as you walk. She and the boys have had tons of fun decorating the driveway with it .

But I guess the problem was that it was new to everyone else because she said that everyone kept bugging her the whole day asking her what it was. "I had to spend the whole time showing everybody what it was and how it works!" (Add a really whiny moan at the end of that sentence. She was totally annoyed that her fun was interrupted by her curious classmates.) Oh, the trials of a kindergartner!

Summer, here we come. Please be gentle. My sanity hangs in the balance.

*We're off to an inauspicious start--the boys have been on a rampage. They ripped my new curtain rod out of the wall that we finally hung a couple of weeks ago and finally k.o.'d the refrigerator door handle. And in the past two days, the boys have gotten into their pirate ship kiddie pool four times FULLY CLOTHED and then trekked through the house dripping wet and covered in grass. Two nights ago, they found the stack of board games that the kids had taken to school for gameday and threw those in the pool. Needless to say, they were ruined and then the boys climbed in with them FULLY CLOTHED. I gave up and started letting them just run around naked because I was exhausted and sick and tired of getting them undressed and redressed. The plus was that they didn't pee anywhere inside while naked and actually went to the toilet a few times. So maybe this will just have to be our Naked Summer. To clarify--at no point will I be running around naked in or out of the Pirate Pool. Butt dimples are only cute to the neighbors when displayed on a three year old's toushie.*

Ramblings: Better late than never...

This post is a few days late---but in my defense, the twins picked the most inconvenient time of year to be born. (Not to mention the fact that Jeremy was in Houston and missed the doc cutting me open and ripping them from the womb.) Their birthday hits right in the middle of all the end of school chaos, end of season parties and recitals, and just about the time that boulder of dread starts forming in my stomach indicating the beginning of a l-o-n-g summer during which I'll be in charge of entertaining four crabby, quarreling, "bored" kids that unless completely submerged in a swimming pool, cannot play outside without spontaneously combusting due to the Texas heat. Really. It's hot here. My grocery bills go up 39% because of all the extra deodorant I have to buy. I may even start making the kids wear some because I really hate that fresh-from-recess sweaty kid smell. Can you tell how excited I am that school is almost out?

I digressed. Back to what I was talking about before...Saturday was the twins' 3rd birthday. Grandma and Grandpa Apples sent them these BYU t-shirts and as soon as they saw them, Aidan was ecstatic. "B-I-U football shirts!" They've been asking to wear them since they arrived in the mail. Thanks Grandma!
They have also been planning a "Ball party" for awhile now. None of us, including them, really knew what they meant by that--other than that they really love balls, so why not put that in the title of their birthday celebration. Their cousin's (Cate) birthday is the week after theirs, so we usually just have one big family party where all three of them try to figure out what is going on and when they are allowed to 1) rip open the pretty packages that hold all the really cool, and invariably loud, new toys and 2) dig into the cake that the Moms have been telling them for the past day or so to STAY AWAY from or else their fingers will be chopped off posthaste.

We planned a little pool party with a taco buffet for dinner afterward. Avery worked on his "power dunk," where he jumps in and slams the basketball into the goal as hard as he can before he goes underwater. For your own safety, try not to stare directly at Jeremy's white skin. He's in an office all day long so I'll give him a break and only refer to him as an albino once or twice.

The boys FINALLY got to have their basketball cake from Costco and they were not disappointed...even though I was a bit annoyed that the person frosting it didn't center the birthday message. It wasn't even close. Don't they know that I notice every weird little thing like that? I take that back--I actually don't think that centering the writing on a cake is that anal of an expectation. Is it? Would you have noticed? I have always made all the birthday cakes, so maybe I should have just been happy that I didn't have to worry about it.

They were so tickled that people were finally singing the Happy Birthday song to them. Aidan had a silly grin on his face the whole song.
Avery blew out his candle first and then Aidan was supposed to do his. But while trying to lean in to get close enough, his arm brushed against the side of the cake and he was gone. He wouldn't be distracted from sucking on his arm to blow out his candle. Once the icing was all sucked off, he managed to blow it out so that we could cut him a piece to eat. Avery couldn't wait for a fork and dove in headfirst. I love how Maddie's got her tongue out, like she's Avery licking the cake. (And Jessica--there's most of Preggers Dee back there like you requested.)

I'd like to point out there's a reason that I should win James's Favorite Aunt award. I am ALWAYS hooking this kid up with awesome culinary delights. Usually it's on the downlow so I don't get busted feeding him things he shouldn't be eating. But this time I got caught on camera wielding a spatula full of cake.

FYI--Him Likey Frosting.




Cate had a cake montage consisting of a hilarious pig and a monkey wearing tutus. She does NOT like being the center of attention and having all the eyes on her instantly makes her turn to stone. And stone can't and won't blow out 4 balloon candles. So Dee had to convince her that we would all look away while she finally managed a puff of air.

After all the cake eating and washing off the inches of frosting, we hung up the pinata the boys picked out. We had been to a party a couple months ago where they'd had a big "uh-not-uh"--according to Aidan. Avery says "pih-nod-a." After that, it's all I heard about every time we were at the Walmart checkout in view of the huge line of pinatas in the party section.

They decided on Lightning McQueen and then happily bashed the eyeballs right off the front of him. Pardon the pantless Avery--his shorts went missing when it was time to change out of his swimsuit. Tara managed to break the pinata from it's plastic hanging strap. Other than that damage, we eventually gave up on them breaking the cardboard car enough for the stuff to fall out on its own. (We didn't let Alex take the heavy metal bat to it like he wanted--there were too many anxious kids waiting to rush the scene and I really didn't want to drive to the ER during the party to replace anyone's teeth that got knocked out.) We just dumped everything in a line and let them go after it.

After they gathered all their sugar and bubbles and other assorted goodies, we went inside for presents. Mass chaos ensued for about 20 minutes as all three opened their packages at once. The boys got new scooters with Spiderman helmets and some new ball-themed outfits. Aidan got something hilarious--I'll let the picture show you.
Too funny! He LOVES dressing up. The pants are a little big and he sorta looks like a Spiderman genie or something. We got them a couple of Little People toys and the new jammies they were eyeing at the store. I decided to keep a couple of "presents" hidden in my closet until they are REALLY needed during the summer when they will magically appear.

And so we've survived another year--and I'm not messing around here--it was a DOOZEY. Dealing with all the two-babies-at-once stuff was tons easier than all the 2-two-year-olds at once drama. If I really do go insane and I don't make it in a semi-stable mental state to their fourth birthdays, next May I'll just be posting a picture of myself in that Spiderman outfit licking icing off my arm.

Ramblings: End of Year Festivities

Last week the kids had their classroom awards ceremonies. I managed to get to them thanks to Granny. Maddie's was in the morning so I bravely dragged the boys along, with Granny for backup, hoping they would be able to behave for at least some of the 30 minutes. Errr...they lasted about four minutes. It was in the library and Aidan turned into a book-loving psychopath attempting to remove as many books from their shelves in as short of a time as possible.

Avery refused to believe that I didn't have an endless supply of fruit snacks in my bag and proceeded to argue and whine and tear apart my bag in search of a hidden stash of them. Then when the slide show of pictures from throughout the year came on, they stood on their chairs and screamed "THAT'S MADDIE RIGHT THERE!," or "WHERE'S ME AT?" or "IS THAT ALEX?" throughout the whole thing. No shushing or pleading to whisper made any impact. Luckily, the entire program was only about 20 minutes long and I didn't get too dehydrated from sweating to death.

They sang a funny song about moving on to first grade, complete with choreography. Maddie LOVED her teacher this year and constantly came home quoting things from her, or talking about how beautiful she is and what cute outfits she has.

They each received a scrapbook with a page for every month, complete with a picture of them dressed up in funny hats and clothes or in front of a decorated backdrop representing something they had studied or somewhere they'd gone. She even shrunk down copies of some of their work to include on the pages. Now I don't have to feel guilty that I don't scrapbook because she'll at least have that to look at in ten years!
I think everyone has very specific memories of their kindergarten teacher. Luckily, she'll have only rosy memories of her first year in school, which is exactly what I hoped for. I told her teacher to brace herself, because if she's still around there in a couple of years, odds are she'll end up with one of the twins in her class. And if it's Avery, there's a fairly decent chance that he still won't be potty-trained by then.


Alex's program was on Friday and smack in the middle of the boys naptime, so I got to attend solo.
He got awards for being on the A honor roll, being in the read-a-thon, reaching a certain level in the advanced reading group, and the Chick-fil-a knowledge award for "being the craziest kid in class." Haha. Just kidding. It's for "Discovering something new so you can be better at whatever you do." Basically, the value awards thing is just an easy way for Chick-fil-a to advertise. But I'm happy they do cuz each kid gets a certificate along with a coupon for a free kid's meal.

He almost got perfect attendance except for those days we took him out of school so we could get cheaper airline tickets to Disney World. Getting shafted that award was definitely worth the $1200 we saved on our 6 tickets.

He was acting really nervous before they started the awards but loosened up enough to high five his friends when each of their names were called. This is his TALL friend, Ben. They hang out together every Thursday afternoon in the hallway while their sisters have their ballet lessons. And I've noticed Alex, who used to be alot bigger than kids his age, has become one of the smaller kids in class the past year or two. Especially next to Ben who was hunching down to make it in the picture.

If you've never had or been around an 8 1/2 year old boy, then I have a picture that sums them up perfectly. Seriously. Like peeking in on wild animals in their natural habitat. Except I'd add sound effects to the picture--like armpit fart noises and loud belches resulting from gulping down stomach-fulls of air. And boogers. And lots of laughter about boogers.

The finale was a video they made of all the kids answering a variety of questions about the school year. What do you remember the most, what have you learned, that sort of thing. Alex was asked his favorite thing they did during the year and he answered, "Multiplication, doing hard math problems. Oh, and what are those things called? Oh yeah, fractions!"
I'm hoping that means he's headed for a career that doesn't involve the picking of boogers or the imitation of bodily function noises, but we'll see. They seem to be a favorite pastime.

Ramblings: Sometime today

Sometime today I will steal a few minutes to sit down and catch up with my posts from last week. We had the kids end of year class award ceremonies and on Saturday, the Triple D (Dynamic Duo of Destruction) turned 3! They finally got their basketball cake that they've been talking and dreaming about since the first time they saw it at Costco three months ago.

But since I just caught sight of Avery streaking naked through the kitchen, I better end now and go investigate.