Ramblings: A Beefy Turkey Day

My intended post about Thanksgiving that I've been mentally writing for the last several days already seems like ancient history. That's what always seems to happen right after Thanksgiving...tons of things to do in a few busy weeks and then all of a sudden it's Christmas. But I'm going to go ahead and post it because we took some funny pictures. And I managed to sneak Alex away and get one or two to update the photo wall-- so all that's left of the football of dread is the family shot, which will be the worst of all.
**As I type this I'm trying to calm heart palpitations because I've just noticed that on the corner of my giant new fabulously bright and clear Mac screen, someone (I'm guessing one of two short, trouble-making "someones") has drawn about a five inch line in blue marker. It's not coming off and I'm quite sure it was done with the blue permanent marker I hijacked yesterday from a sprinting "I know I'm busted so I'm going to run like the wind" Avery. Let's just say it's a good thing he's napping right now or he'd be getting the business.**

Anyway, we spent Thanksgiving at my parents house this year. Apparently my mom wanted to replace all of her fragile decor with new stuff and she knew the best way to justify this was to have the twins over and break anything and everything in sight. Or she wanted to see if their new treadmill was really capable of killing several small children. Verdict on that--almost. The small children were a bit closer to killing the treadmill by hanging, swinging, and chucking things at it.

Before dinner, we took the herd out to see a herd of a different species at my parents' ranch. The older kids have been out there alot, but it was the first time the little boys were old enough to be amazed by all the horseys and cows. Once they were convinced the animals weren't trying to eat them for Thanksgiving dinner, they thought it was a pretty fun deal. The weather was a perfect 70 degrees so it was a great day to be outside.

They even got to ride in the back of Grandpa's truck on some hay bales--Aidan liked to "fly" in the wind. Avery was, of course, annoyed by the wind.

As we were driving on some back roads to the gate entrance, Maddie spotted this utility shed and got all excited.."Are we going over to that baby house over there?!" I think she imagined it was full of new toys and hot chocolate with warm cookies or something.

We drove though the pastures to see all the animals and check on some of the mama cows that were due to have their babies soon. All four kids were mostly impressed by the amount of cow pies that were everywhere. Aidan just kept pointing at the cows and screaming, "He have POOP on him!" He was probably just excited to think that someone other than Avery and himself liked to lounge around in their own feces.

The kids and Grandpa made the most giant bottle ever to feed to a little orphaned calf. Aidan LOVED this little guy--he didn't want to leave his side. He just kept rubbing his head and getting really close to him to chat (probably about the best products to remove those stubborn poop stains). Avery was not too interested in the animals, but all the fun fences and gates and other death traps were much more entertaining. He was having a staring contest with a mama cow from his perch.

This picture of Alex was him explaining why he was a bit nervous to let the slobbery calf suck on his finger like Grandpa kept trying to convince him to--he didn't like the chance that he'd be riding back home with one less finger than he came with, even though he watched three other people do it just fine.

Do you think CPS would have a problem with me installing one of these inside of my house? (FYI for non-cowboys: this is the place where you run the cow in and the gate closes behind them and you can squeeze 'em really tight with the sides. Their head sticks out and they can't move around so you can give them shots or whatever.) 

I promise I wouldn't squeeze them too tight--I mainly just need it for caging purposes.

Avery was reading my mind and refused to stand in it on the off chance (or quite probable chance) that I wouldn't ever let him out.It was a little overwhelming for all the kids when we walked back to get in the truck and most of a herd had gathered around waiting to bite their faces off. Just joking, cows. Stop sending me hate emails! They just know the truck usually means chow time so they were anxiously optimistic that these little miniature cowboy-wannabes were going to offer them some grub. No luck unless they were able to find the five or six handfuls of hay the boys chucked into the wind for them. Alex told me I should try to sell my cow pictures to Chick-fil A. (I told you he's always trying to think of ways to make money.) But do you think they'd send me free salad coupons in exchange?

Jeremy got the awesome job of locking and unlocking the gates that my brothers refer to with a very naughty name--hmm, let's just say it rhymes with Gate Witch. We let Avery take a few rounds on the four wheelers before calling it quits on the ranch. We wanted to give the kids every possible opportunity to maim or disfigure themselves before we left.

And in the barn, Alex was once again reminded that we are the only people on the face of the whole entire earth that don't own a dog. And the fact that we don't makes mom PURE EVIL. And then when he asked what kind of dog Rufus was, the "hound" reply led to a "Where the Red Fern Grows" reference, and then the plot summary was almost enough to make Alex start crying right there on top of poor Rufus. I'm guessing watching it won't be on our "to-do" list anytime soon.

And if the other family pictures don't turn out, we may just send out this very, very redneck version. And then we checked everyone's shoes for cow poop and loaded up to go home so we could stuff our faces for about 20 minutes on a meal that took about 20 hours to prepare. (I'm starting to think it might not be worth it---all that cooking and dish cleaning for 20 minutes of eating. Seems like if we ordered pizza and focused our baking efforts on the dessert portion of the meal, it'd be much more enjoyable.)

Whilst the men unbuttoned their pants in front of the football game and the women finished the dishes (why is that always the case?!), the big kids made some Perler bead ornaments. They got really into it and Alex was so proud of the Christmas tree he made---that is, until he tried to show Uncle Greg who thought they were already stuck together and wrecked the whole thing. Alex just started screaming "Get started. Get started--you have to fix it!" and then he ran out. So guilt-ridden Greg used his freshly-completed college degree in Perler-bead design to spell out ALEX inside the ornament. All was forgiven...but I did not post the next picture where Greg was covertly raising his middle finger in my general direction because I was harassing him about taking over the kids' craft project.We had a great time and a very thankful Thanksgiving. Sorry that was a novel--but my memory's failing in my old age and I wanted to journal it so I have a chance of remembering it in the future. We hope everyone was also able to enjoy their Turkey Day with friends and family.

Alex's 8th birthday is on Thursday, so I'll be posting sooner than later...

Ramblings:White Trash Birthday

Sunday was Jeremy's birthday--the big 3-4. As you can tell, he was super excited that I made him wear one of the twins' "Birthday Boy" hats from last year. Before I show you what he got for his birthday, I have to explain my reasoning. 

Since we've lived in Texas for 4 years now, Jeremy is getting close to the deadline. What deadline? you ask. Well, the unofficial law requiring men to fulfill at least one (with bonus W.T. points for completing all three) of the following activities within the first five years of residence: 1) sit shirtless in a lawn chair on your front porch to chat with your neighbors before and/or after mowing your lawn--which also must be done mostly undressed 2) attend a NASCAR event with your dog and/or wife; or 3) purchase a small appliance or piece of cookware that would allow you to eat a diet consisting entirely of fried food. 

So that explains why I got Jeremy his very own "Professional Deep Fryer," a gallon of peanut oil, and 4 pounds of chicken wings. Because let's face it, he only mowed our 1/2 acre lawn for one summer before deciding to hire a mowing crew, his upper body is blindingly white (I'm talking albino here), and most of our neighbors are really, really weird and are the type that continually offer entirely TMI (too much info--like detailed conversations they overheard on the phone between their teenage son and his girlfriend. Yikes.). That, and I won't let him buy a dog until the dog's poop is the only poop in or out of the house that I have to clean up. And since the twins' fascination with playing in their own feces continues with no end in sight, there is no doggy or NASCAR in our future.

And that's why I had to make the W.T. purchase to make food frying easier--plus he's been wanting to try all these recipes from the Food Network that require you to deep fry various chicken body parts wrapped in bacon, with a side of battered clogged arteries, and a triple bypass for dessert.  I also got him a new sports coat to wear to work, but that's much less exciting...or fattening. And Alex made him a Lego airplane creation for his desk at work--"complete with guy" he told Jeremy. 

He broke in the thing with a batch of fried chicken wings, tater tots, and breaded green beans. See his face dripping with anticipation??--oh wait, it's just dripping from the greasy fumes blasting at his head.  Maddie was a bit baffled when we told her "No dessert until you go eat all of your grease first." 

Our entire house smelled like a vat of steaming lard. It's been almost 24 hours and the stink is still lingering. I feel like everything I touch is slimed in a layer of peanut oil. But even I will admit those were some tasty tater tots. 

P.S. I figured out how to program my mouse to have the right click functions, so I can go back to taking the right click for granted again. Life is getting easier to navigate on planet Mac.  Do you think I can program it to scrub poop out of the carpet?

Ramblings: Fall Pics

It's that dreaded time of year again. My palms are constantly clammy and the dread has rolled itself into a dense football sized pit in my stomach. As much as I've tried to put IT out of my mind, IT just keeps looming closer and closer by the day.

What? What, you ask, could cause such a vile reaction? If any of you have ever tried to get six heads pointed in the same general direction while simultaneously eliciting smiles from all or a majority of the six heads, without any freakish or obscene looking body and/or hand positions, then you know what I'm talkin' about.

The taking of the annual family photo to send out with the Christmas cards.

I keep waiting for the year when everyone is old enough to cooperate and manage this task without the grand misery of past Christmas picture-taking years gone by.

F.Y.I. This is not going to be that year.

I am envisioning a frantic scene with weeping, whaling, and gnashing of 5 sets of teeth (Jeremy's grouped with the kids on this one--he's generally just as crabby on picture day because I'm making him suffer through it with me).

This year I decided to take babysteps towards the photo session of the entire family by trying to get individual pictures of each of the kids to update our photo wall in the "dining room." ("Dining Room" is thrown around loosely here, as it only sees table-action during Thanksgiving when we set up the big folding table in there. With four small demolition-machines, acquiring and worrying about a fancy-shmancy set of dining furniture has not been much of a priority. It's currently stuffed with books, toys, and comfortable story-time seating. Hopefully by Christmas it will also house a piano so I can start harassing the kids about one more thing: practicing for their piano lessons.)

Anyway, I started with the most cooperative victim. Maddie was ready and willing to be a "superstar model" and troop around until I snapped a few I thought would work. She was definitely the easiest and most photogenic of the crew. I did not include any where she's sticking her booty out with her hands on her hips--apparently she's been flipping through my People magazine. **Note to interested picture-loving Grandmas--If you click on the pictures, they should pop open practically life-sized for you**

Then I ran home and redressed the other crazies for an attempt to get a) a shot of the twins together where they are not engaged in an Ultimate Fighting Championship reenactment and b) a remotely decent picture of all the crazies together without any tongue protrusions or eye stretching involved, wherein hopefully they all look like human children and not rabid street dogs.

See that stick Avery's holding? Any guesses on how long it took until he started trying to beat Aidan senseless with that prop?We managed to get 3/4 of the kids looking at the camera. Maddie was apparently smiling for the paparazzi snapping pictures from somewhere in the trees on my left (probably hoping to make next month's issue of People). I think these particular smiles were elicited from Jeremy's monkey imitation next to the camera (I'm not joking--I actually made him act like a monkey because for some reason the oooh-ooh ahhh-ahhh noises always make them laugh. And the more rabid the monkey and foamier the mouth, the better the smiles.)

I didn't get a chance to take one of Alex by himself. His smile gets really weird and his eyes become super squinty after about three minutes of posing, so I'm going to have to be fast at catching a decent one and I didn't even bother trying after the group shots. He was sick on picture day at school, so I don't even have that as a backup (not that those are ever that good).

I'll keep you posted on the family picture. If you're really special you may even receive the hideous thing in a Christmas card in a few weeks. And even if you're not really special but for some inconceivable reason you want one anyway, email me your address and I'll send one off. Until then, the football of dread will remain lodged somewhere between my appendix and liver.

Ramblings: The Danger of Swallowing Chewing Gum

You've probably already been warned, but just in case you haven't..

And now you'll never look at your exercise ball the same way.

Ramblings: Stumbling Around

I'm very tardy with this post because I've been stumbling around like a blind person on my new computer and things are taking me twice as long to accomplish. (I'm really really missing the right click functions on the mouse--I guess it's one of those things that you don't appreciate until you don't have it.  And now blind people everywhere are offended because they're like, "um, yeah. we can't even see and we could figure things out at least five times as fast as you.)

We are attempting to make the switch from our PC to Mac--basically because we just like the Mac guy better on the commercials. Isn't that what they want us to do? Pick the cooler guy? Now I'm waiting to see if this new Mac makes me cooler, too. With tight skinny-legged jeans and big, bushy brown eyebrows. 

Anyway, yesterday was my birthday--the dreaded big 3-0. Except for me it wasn't really dreaded, it was more like, Geez. Finally. I feel like I've been 30 for six or seven years now. Alex asked me how old I was yesterday and his response was, "Thirty? You're thirty? Oh. You look

 FORTY." Awesome. But I'm OK even if I do look 40 because maybe now people will stop giving me the "you have 4 kids and you're only how old?" faces.  

Jeremy's birthday is a week after mine so we got most of the extended family together for a dual-b-day celebration dinner on Saturday night

 at the Japanese Hibachi and Sushi place--Todd was on babysitting duty so Dee was flying solo. 

I have to say that Hibachi restaurants are alot more fun when you're not worried your two year olds are going to reach over and permanently meld their hands to the grill... I only had to remind Jeremy once or twice. It's hot. HOT. H-O-T. 

I have video of our funny chef cooking

up all our food, but it was incredibly dorky sounding because all you could hear was Jeremy quizzing him about where he learned all his tricks and my mom worrying about getting impaled by a flying fork during his "helicopter trick." This was the famous onion volcano right before the soy sauce lava. 

I made Greg take this group shot with the promise that I'd photoshop him in later--see, I don't lie. He's peeking out there between Mom and Jeremy. 

So out of all the dorks that tried to catch the broccoli that our chef flung at us, I was the only one who managed to catch it. Jeremy's rebounded off his face and landed here in front of us. 

You know you've had way too much to eat when this is your plate after you've been going at it for what seems like forever and there's not even a dent...that and when your husband's stomach starts busting out like the red plaid one down there...

Just be glad I didn't let him lift his shirt for the picture like he wanted.

So I'm off now to battle more of the same--trying to keep the kids from killing themselves and each other and enforcing the "naughty step" timeout over and over and over. I think Supernanny better add Dallas to her route next season or by next year I'll look 50. 

And be patient with me if the formatting on this post is all screwed up--my Mac and blogspot apparently hate each other and are messing with me by moving things around just as I'm about to get it how I want it. Freaking technology. 

**Edited to Add**

I can't believe I forgot the funniest part of the whole evening. On the ride home, we were scrolling through the ipod to find something to listen to and we flashed past David Archuleta's name. 

So Jeremy got all excited and said, "His CD just came out. It's supposed to be pretty good."  

Then I said, "You already bought it, didn't you?"

"Maybe... And it IS good."

Ramblings: Road Rage

I think I'm being followed.

I better check my rear view mirror.

WARNING: Objects in mirror are crazier than they appear.

Please excuse the fact that (almost) 2 & 1/2 year olds should not have pacifiers--but it was almost bedtime and I am a sucker for vacuum-wielding toddlers. Well, one is a vacuum and one is a "pretend" vacuum that causes Aidan to constantly chatter about it needing new batteries because its nonexistent light and noises don't work. Instead, all it does is make those clunky chime noises and none of the cool vacuum noises that the red one makes. If only they made mini-pretend Dysons, then my Tyson could have a little brother that Aidan could use.

Inevitably, this game of vacuum-style follow the leader ends in a giant road-rage induced game of chicken, and their vacuums are smashed together with so much force that I'm surprised either of them are still in one piece.

And speaking of Road Rage, I was running errands last week when I encountered some familiar USPS aggression. I was on a two lane road that was about to merge to one lane, when this mail jeep came flying around me at the last minute and cut me off in the middle of an intersection. The bandana and giant glasses were a big blur, but I'd recognize that blur anywhere. Guess who? Yup. It was her. I can't escape her or her raging driving, even 15 minutes from my mailbox. I'm actually kind of surprised she didn't chuck my mail at my windshield as she was swerving in front of me--she was obviously in a hurry and that would've saved her some time later.

Ramblings: Tag. I'm it.

I'm finally getting around to doing this one. I was tagged by a couple people, probably because they think I need to be constantly entertained. And they are right. So here's one of 'em.

One Word Tag
Here are the rules: 1. I have to answer the following questions with one word answers and one word only! 2. Then I must pass it on to seven others.The questions are as follows:

(I consider all hyphenated words as one. Ok. It's cheating. Whatever.)
1. Where is your cell phone? car
2. Where is your significant other? work
3. Your hair color? brown
4. Your mother? giver
5. Your father? passer-of-the-no-butt-genes
6. Your favorite thing? Dyson
7. Your dream last night? haircut
8. Your dream/goal? contentment
9. The room you're in? office
10. Your hobby? writing
11. Your fear? tragedy
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? cruise
13. Where were you last night? Old Navy
14. What you're not? impulsive
15. One of your wish-list items? housekeeper
16. Where you grew up? Texas
17. The last thing you did? laundry
18. What are you wearing? NOTHING (haha. just kidding.) Shorts
19. Your TV? cartoons
20. Your pet? non-existent
21. Your computer? dying
22. Your mood? bored
23. Missing someone? adults
24. Your car? pigsty
25. Something you're not wearing? jewelry
26. Favorite store? TJ Maxx
27. Your summer? looooooooooooong
28. Love someone? if-they-bring-me-a-Sonic (look at that blatant disregard for rules)
29. Your favorite color? green
30. When is the last time you laughed? today
31. Last time you cried? Sunday (does it count if it was because I was head butted by Big Head and he almost broke the bone above my eye?)

And I will leave it up to 7 readers to volunteer to be tagged because some of you have probably already done this...that and I don't want any nasty mail from tag-haters.

Rave: Good Tunes

I stumbled onto good music for a nice, crisp November-in-Texas Friday. I've really been enjoying it--even the first time through, which is pretty rare. And this weather, THIS WEATHER is why we suffer and sweat to the point of dehydration through the hellish three+ months of summer.

Ramblings: Turkey Ballerina

Maddie was given a naked turkey drawing and the assignment to come up with a disguise for him so he wouldn't get eaten on Thanksgiving. Maddie wanted to disguise hers as a ballerina, so with a little felt, tulle, false eyelashes, tiny pearls, and hemp string for a bun-hairdo we were set. Never a prettier fowl...

Do you think he/she'll get eaten?

Ramblings: Table Manners

What? How do you eat your chocolate chip pancakes?

And if you notice the left side of Aidan's face, it's roadrashed because he faceplanted on the driveway when his little lawn chair tipped over sideways. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth for quite a while. Whoopsie. And Avery is wearing his favorite outfit---NOTHING. I'm just lucky he kept his diaper on.