Rave/Rant: Shine Junkie

Why is it when you find a product that you really like, that really works for you, they go and discontinue it and ruin your life forever? Usually, it's makeup where I get nailed with finding out my favorite color is no longer cool enough to produce or something. But this time it's some hair gunk that I've been using the same can of for probably a year. You only have to use a tiny dab and it's perfect for the flyaways, making it shiny without sticky, and just generally smoothing your hair to make it look like you haven't been rolled up in a blanket trying to take a nap on the couch while 2 two year olds peg you with wiffle balls and then you realize holy cow!--ballet class starts in 20 minutes. It's that good. And it smells fabulous--perhaps even good enough to cover up the aroma concoction that results from stress-sweating while trying to clean up your barfy kid in the Kroger shopping cart. Well, almost good enough.

Anyway, I finally used up the last of it and went find some more at the store with no luck. It appears from some online searching that they're not making it anymore. Luckily I found some stores via eBay that still have some...but I'm still bummed because it's going to take such effort in the future to find this stuff. If you wanna try it, better get some soon if you can still find it.

Rant: Hit the Road

I'm using this public forum to vent---because it's better than taking it out on the kids. Alex has this friend that comes over fairly often. Right now I am sitting here resisting the urge to grab him by the ear and lead him to the front door and kick him to the curb. He is the biggest whiner, tattler, and name caller EVER. Plus, he asks me what time it is every three minutes. GET A WATCH! My blood pressure starts rising as soon as he rings the doorbell (five times in a row) most days right after school. If my kids are like this at your house, will you please pinch them!

Ramblings: De-fro-ing Avery

Have you ever been to the rodeo where they let all the little kids chase a sheep or goat to see if anyone can catch it? Or seen those contests where they cover a pig in something to make it impossibly slippery and then someone tries to catch it and take the ribbon of its tail? Well imagine both of those things occurring simultaneously, except that after you catch the animal, you have to shave its head. This is what that event ends up looking like:

Except that Avery is wigglier than any slick pig and bites, hits, and head butts alot harder than most sheep or goats. And he still fought the haircut even though I kept telling him, "Mom's going to win. Mom always wins." And Mom did win, and without any bloodshed, I might add. And believe me, based on the battle there really should've been pints of bloodshed or a missing ear or two.

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I snapped these this morning after he had dumped out his toy box, slid it into the laundry room and flipped it over to use as a stool so he could reach the hanging baskets on the wall where I throw odds and ends. (Hence the totally busted look in the first one).

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Anything that can be dumped and flipped for illegal height-boosting purposes is up for grabs and used for evil purposes throughout the day. Each and every chair we own is put in "time out" on the kitchen counters immediately after breakfast or there are a dangerously high number of life-threatening climbing incidents when I leave the room. They push them around to access anything out of reach. I even found a chair they hauled all the way to my bathroom because Avery wanted to taste a bottle of "medicine" on the counter. Pretty soon I fear I will catch one of them standing on the other one's shoulders all acrobat-style and then I don't know what I'll do.

Ramblings: Teeter Tottering

Anytime I go anywhere with the kids (either the twins or all four) I have total strangers asking me if we're "done" or if we're planning on more kids. When did "four" become the "eight" of the old days? But no big surprise today at Walmart, when the cashier asked me first if the boys were twins (for the sixth time in 40 minutes), then she asked if I had any other kids, and then the big one: "So you must be done then! Are you having any more?"

Hmmm, let me think...(pause to check blue and white name tag)..Tammi, is it? I've known you for all of about two minutes thirty six seconds, and you've already busted out with what is a fairly personal question. Not that I mind answering or even talking about it, but do people typically go around asking total strangers about their family planning? Or is that a right we extend to folks we've trusted to slide our fragile produce, deodorant, and fire ant killer over that little glass scanner? While you're at it Tammi, would you like to know how much my husband makes, how much I weigh, and my preference in feminine products? Oh wait, seeing as you just scanned a giant box of tampons (that the boys will try to eat soon enough) you probably already know the answer to that one.

I think scanning each and every item that people have specifically chosen to buy probably does give you a sneak peak into their lives, their preferences, and/or their weirdness. Maybe questioning them about having more kids doesn't seem like such a big jump after you've seen all the stuff they stack behind closed cupboards and closets. Tammi must just feel like part of the family. Important question before Tammi earns her place at the family dinner table: Tammi, do you babysit?

Of course I didn't say anything rude or mean to Tammi, I'm totally used to getting this question. But I developed a new answer after the kids called me outside on Thursday to see what they were doing...

How could we think about more kids right now? It would throw our teeter tottering out of whack! (Not to mention alot of other things.)

Rant: Attention Home Owners

Um, did I miss the memo? The memo explaining that your garage door has to be "maintained" monthly. Ok, so I've learned this the hard, er...expensive way. When I tried to close my garage door this morning (the boys and I had been out all morning enjoying the aftereffects of Gustav: a ton of wind and freakishly cool temperatures--I'm talking 73 degrees here) it groaned and jerked and the next thing I know, it was hanging all crooked and wouldn't budge. A couple of the wheels were off the track, one of the tracks was bent, and the cord that winds up had come off its wheel and started winding around the bar across the top. Yikes.

$250 bucks later, I have learned that part of what contributed to its problem (aside from the fact its a cheapo builder-model door and opener) is that we haven't been "maintaining" it by "lubing" it each month. Lube is another really gross sounding word, and I heard it way too much today. According to my Repair Man (who was thankfully NOT a perv), no one is aware that they are supposed to be "lubing" their wheels, spring, and chain each month to keep everything working properly. (That is unless you have "self-lubing" higher-quality stuff. Then you're off the monthly maintenance hook, I guess). I'm supposed to go look for some junk called Liquid Wrench.

So now you've got the memo--go lube yourselves (or at least your garage doors) and save yourselves the cash and the headache.

And I love that my group of Men seems to be multiplying everyday: I've got my Tire Man, my Garage Door Repair Man, my really, really incompetent AT&T Phone Man. It's like my very own Village People. Oooh, should I drop a match on Jeremy's Barry Manilow collection so I could add a Fire Man to the group?

Ramblings: Saturday, Part 2

(See Part 1 here)
I was reminded that I never finished my ramblings about the rendezvous with my new boy-toy at Walmart last Saturday. I sort of lost my thunder about retelling the story after loading on all the pictures of the kids first day of school. Then it seemed somehow creepy to sandwich their smiling faces between posts about a semi-toothed, personal-space invading, bumcrack showing tire man. I'll leave you with a few choice, albeit random, thought nuggets from the experience:

(By the way, my friends and I created a list in eighth grade of the most disgusting words--I can still remember most of them and 'nugget' still holds the #1 position. Sick. Nothing sounds good described as a nugget--not even a gold one. Although when I found this picture labeled "Nugget Power" featuring Jeremy’s boyfriend, I almost changed my mind about hating the word. What a great Christmas present for Jeremy--a little Archey Nugget.











*If there was a contest about how many times you could catch someone leering inappropriately in a two hour span, I would be the winner and the Tire Guy would be the PERV...which just reminded me of a funny Office episode...can't wait till it starts up again.






* Do you think Walmart's insurance would cover a botox procedure for a "condition" involving excessive sweating of the bumcrack? Or perhaps this particular walmart employee already had his armpits botoxed, and my friend is right--that the sweat starts coming out in less desirable places. It's surprising how sweat becomes way less appealing when it's being flung on you by Walmart veteran tire-installer "Ricky" instead of Mraz.




* Did you ever see the Seinfeld episode about the Sideler? The guy that always sneaks right up next to you out of nowhere? Well, cross that guy between the other episode with The Close Talker, and you've met the Tire Guy. After he invited me into the dimly lit, CLOSED garages of Walmart to crouch down and see the hole in my tire, we had to search my car for the spare. Every time I'd stand up or turn around from looking under or inside the car, he'd be right up on me. I almost screamed once because he startled me so bad...that and I really, really wanted to avoid any actual physical contact.

*Despite guesses from Jeremy and nameless friends (Kris and John), NO! I did not hug him or flash him as a form of payment. Because he couldn't fix the flat and didn't have a replacement, he said there was no charge. But I felt guilty because he had spent alot of time already working on it, so I did give him a $10 bill and worried the whole way home that I could see him following me in my rear view mirror.

WAIT! Do you think once he got here he would wash windows? I might even be tempted to flash him for that.

And no (jessica), I didn't get up the nerve to snap his picture so you could grasp the nastiness. Exercise your imagination.

Rave: Cheap Butterflies

I've been looking for a new comforter for Maddie's bed for awhile now. The problem is that she inherited our queen size mattress when we finally upgraded to a king. Most designers don't make a ton of cute little-girl type bedding in queen size, and the places that do (Pottery Barn, Garnet Hill, etc.) want WAY too much for it. But I found a set by Tommy Hilfiger I really liked when walking through Macy's a couple of weeks ago, but I nearly had a spasm when I saw the $400+ price tag. So imagine my delight upon finding the complete set on Overstock for about 1/4 of the price, no sales tax, and shipped for < 3 bucks. Plus, I had a 10% off coupon and viola! Maddie will have a new setup in about 5 days. Ahhh, I love online shopping....
But if Jeremy asks--it was a gift, or I've had it for a long time, or it was like $15. Work with me, people!

Ramblings: Funny Finds 'round the House

One of these days, I should sit Jeremy down and finally explain what this big white box is really for...

Should I be more concerned that I even found this on my five year old's nightstand, or that she arranged it right next to her "Jesus Rocks" prayer rock that she made in her Methodist preschool class last year? At least she's trying to save some cash by using a coupon...

Rave: First Day of School

I'm interrupting the Saturday posts to scratch the grandparents' itch to see how the first day of school went. (Although by their outfits you probably thought it was the 4th of July. Nope. Purely accidental.) The kids were SOOO excited, which made it alot easier for me to send them off for such a long school day. They had already met their teachers, taken their supplies, and seen their classes and desks so they didn't have any anxiety about all that. Alex had more anxiety about being seen posing for first day pictures in the front yard. You would've thought I asked him to wear a dress or eat lima beans for lunch. 2nd grade=2 cool for mom's sentimentality.

Jeremy took them to school (to avoid the scene we make when traveling as a herd) and although Maddie was cool with her smooch, he mortally embarrassed Alex by kissing him on the cheek in front of his friends. They rode the bus home together--I can see the school's playground from my front porch, so it's a short ride, but Maddie was so excited to finally get to ride it after watching Alex for two years. I told Alex he had to sit by her for at least the first day since she wouldn't know anyone else to sit by (I'm vicariously having anxiety for her about things she doesn't even have a clue she should be nervous about...like not having someone to sit by at lunch or on the bus. Can't wait for them to be in highschool--I'll be a nervous wreck.) Anyway, he was about to protest but lucky for him, he just nodded and said, "Well, maybe she can meet someone her age today."

The boys were awake (dang short naps) to wait for them outside on the porch so they could greet them as them tumbled out of the bus. Aidan was perplexed all morning about where they were. He kept telling me that "Alex. Maddie. At school." But then he'd ask me "Alex and Maddie. Sad?" "No, Alex and Maddie are happy to be at school," I told him. So the rest of the day and even today he keeps telling me, "Alex and Maddie at school. Happy. Me happy too." Maybe he isn't worried that they are happy at school, maybe he's just happy they're at school. Plus, he's learned that they'll share any treats they got at school with him when they come home.

A successful first day of "real school." Real versus preschool, I guess. She was most excited by her sticker proclaiming her "an official kindergartner". I was most excited that both her hair bows were still in her possession. They never have many details to report for me. "It was fun." "Fine." "Nice." "Good." That's all the answers my questions got before they ran off to play.

Ramblings: Saturday, Part 1

Jeremy had been promising to bring me home a "surprise"all last week--I feared it was a new iphone. He's been salivating over the new and improved faster one and has been scheming to give me his old one so he could buy the new one. "Well, it would be new to you" was his explanation of why I should be happy with the hand-me-down. "And it has a GPS in it, and camera..." My reply: "But I don't need another camera, and I already have an ipod, and why do I need GPS? I'm pretty sure I know how to get to the soccer field, ballet, and Kroger. THOSE ARE THE ONLY PLACES I GO."

Anyway, I'm digressing--the surprise was much better than a used iphone. Saturday morning he told me that he had managed to buy some tickets to the Jason Mraz concert for the end of October. And since the tickets he got are somewhere in the first few rows, maybe I'll be lucky enough to have sweat flung on me...or get a good shot at grabbing his bum. And even though we may have had to sell our firstborn into child slavery to pay for them, I've got three other spares, right? So in a couple months I'll get to spend an entire evening with Mraz...just me and my little Mraz. Oh, and I guess Jeremy will be there too. Not everyone knows his music, so I stole a description from some website:

Jason Mraz is an American singer-songwriter, born and raised in Mechanicsville,
Virginia, a suburb of Richmond. Jason Mraz is an eclectic artist with multiple
and varied stylistic influences, including pop, rock, jazz, folksy country, and
hip-hop/rap. Jason Mraz's clear, strong tenor voice and easygoing, optimistic
lyrics gained popular acclaim in 2003 when his first single, The Remedy I Won't
Worry, began to receive regular play on radio, MTV, and VH1.

I was also surprised to find out that Jeremy had signed up to donate blood in one of those Carter traveling blood-mobiles that was going to be parked at our church on Saturday afternoon. A little background: Jeremy HATES needles, getting shots, and the sight of blood in general. Once in Florida when we were on vacation, he got really sick and had to go to the E.R. to get some shots. He had to sort of stand up and lean on the bed so the nurse could shoot him in the bum, but right after she gave him the shot he started swaying, went really pale, and almost passed out. She said that happens sometimes....usually to men, not women. SO he had to get another shot to help him recover from getting the first shot. He has yet to live that one down. All I have to say is that it's a good thing that the women have the babies...or there would be a serious baby shortage due to the abundance of babies of a much larger, hairier, male kind.

Anyway, he was so nervous driving up there that I thought he's pass out before they even stuck him--he was seriously all sweaty and jittery. And apparently hearing about how I had to have a zillion needles in my arms and my nether-regions while having Alex and Maddie, and how I had my abdomen and insides cut open and sewn back together to deliver the twins, all that didn't help him get over his nerves and fear of a tiny, minuscule little needle.

We had to go in shifts because one of us had to stay inside the church gym to watch the kids, so I didn't get to hear or see all the drama when they finally did put in the needle. I tried to bribe someone on the inside to take my camera and put it to good use when he was sprawled out unconscious on the floor of the bus, but no one would. (Jessica, i know you're sad about that).

When he was done, I got to go in and hear all the other men in the bus whining about getting poked too. WUSSES! And they are apparently in desperate need of blood, because even though mine was carbonated and 79% Diet Coke, they still took it. But I did almost got kicked off the bus because I was too wiggly and kept knocking things off that the nurse perched precariously on my arm or the edge of the bed. I know, such a troublemaker. Right before I left the bus, a total torrential downpour started and I got drenched running back into the church to retrieve the others. Oh, what we'll do for a really cool free Carter Blood Care t shirt--size Really Huge, a powerade, and some NutterButters. Oh, and to save lives and all that.

As we were planning our attack on how to load the four kids, and strap the two into their carseats without getting even more soaked, we looked and one of our tires was totally flat. Like almost driving on the rim flat. (The same tire that I supposedly had fixed while I sat with the twins for an hour and a half at NTB the week before. GRRRR. NTB, shame on you.)

New plan: Try to drive in this crazy storm without ruining what's left of the wheel to the nearest gas station, so Jeremy can stand out in the storm to fill it up with air. Oh, and all the kids have to be screaming about needing to pray for the tire, generally freaking out about the rain and tornadoes, and acting like total spazzes or the plan will be ruined. Mission accomplished. Alex screamed, "THE PRAYER WORKED!" --and it's a good thing we made it or we'd have some serious faith issues on our hands.

I think his exact words when he looked up and saw me trying to take a picture were "I'm glad you're enjoying this." But I'm pretty sure he was being sarcastic. At least the free giant tshirts came in handy as makeshift towels. Thanks Carter. Oh, did I mention it was 5:55 on a Saturday night? We used the handy but "old, crappier, slower" iphone to look up a few tire places online, though every single one was closed or as one guy said, "We're walking out the door right now...and we're not stopping." Thanks, random tire guy. Anyway, we decided to risk it and drive to Walmart in the hopes they'd take pity on us. And they did because they were supposed to be closed at 7, and the guy said that they were really busy but he'd let us come back at 7:00 and he'd fix our tire because he could use the overtime. That gave us time to drag all the unhappy, hungry, traumatized kids back home so only one of us would have to come back. Thanks Walmart, for authorizing overtime.

But sadly, this is not the end of the tire story. In fact, the best part is yet to come. The part where I get an after hours tour of the Walmart garages with the skeevy little perv of a tire guy that kept staring at the twins (and I'm NOT talking about the boys here). I'll write more when the twins (and I AM talking about the boys here) are taking a nap.