Holy cranky ladies, batman! This heat is getting to me. I'm starring in my very own version of "Grumpy Old Men". Except I'm a gal and, while I'm not a spring chicken, I'm not sure I could be considered old, either.
But then. There are the hot flashes. I'm not talking tiny little "oh, gee, it's warm in here" flashes. Oh, no. It's a sweating-buckets, face-the-shade-of-a-tomato-covered-fire truck, need-to-wring-out-my-shirt flash. I never do things small.
Maybe it's the hormones. Could be my thyroid. But it's probably just the fact that it's July in Arkansas. 102 in the shade today. According to my thermometer and our black lab, anyway. The weather guy says it was only 97. I think the dog was probably more accurate.
It's funny what triggers a memory sometimes.
As I was sitting in front of the fan, wringing my sweat soaked shirt for the 5th time in an hour, my son starts talking about our mouse problem. Seems our cats have decided they are vegetarian, and he wants to resort to tear gas and little mouse sized bean bag guns. Whatever works.
But with the combination of mice and the heat, my mind went back to summers over 30 years ago.
My cousins & I were at my grandma's house nearly all day every day during the summers. We'd play in the woods, swim in the creek, raid the dump for broken bikes and bottles. But one of our favorite places was the spare bedroom right off of grandma's living room. We'd play "house" for hours, our babies 2 quite scary looking life-sized dolls with clumps of missing hair. We loved those dolls.
However. Grandma had a mouse problem. Multiple mice, actually. Of course. Like chips, you really can't have just one.
Grandma loved mouse poison. You know, the little pellets that look remarkably like some sort of fiber cereal. And she put this stuff EVERYWHERE. In the closets, under the couch, behind the TV, between the pots in the kitchen cabinets. This was before she got overly concerned with accidental poisonings or such. You see, we grandkids were so well behaved and rarely got into anything without asking. It wasn't until those pesky great-grands came along that there were problems.
Right.
In any case, the mice loved the poison too. And we all know where mice go to die. Why they like the most interior wall, smack in the middle of the house, I'll never know. But grandma's mice did. In fact, I think there must've been a little mouse cemetery in that one wall, rarely did they die anywhere else.
But that wall. The wall in between the living room and spare bedroom. The room we loved to play in. Every summer, without fail. Just when it would begin to heat up, a mouse would die in the wall. And just when it would *almost* stop smelling to high heaven, along came another "fresh" one. Grandma went through so many cans of air freshener, she really should've taken stock in Glade.
Like I said....funny what triggers a memory. I can still smell the dead mice and the Hawaiian scented air freshener grandma would spray every 10 minutes.
To this day, I don't like either.
Fairytale
Friday, July 24, 2015
Sunday, July 19, 2015
The power of words. And donuts.
Ok y'all. It just got real. A little wisp of a thing called me F.A.T. *gasp* In Walmart, of all places. In front of my daughter. Yeah, I wanted to throw my basket of jelly filled donuts at her.
Ok...in all honesty, the donuts were for my oldest son. I'm a chocolate glazed kind of gal.
But I digress.
This young gal was looking down as she ambled up the aisle, eyes intently staring at her phone as she texted an OH, so IMPORTANT message. At least, I *assume* it was of dire importance, since she couldn't take a millisecond to glance up. As she strolled closer to us, I pressed myself as far to the left as I could, up against the wall of baby formula, pulling my daughter behind me to allow her to pass. And pass she did. But not before taking off what, if I had been a sedan, would be considered my passenger side mirror.
At long last, she glanced up. And out of her perfectly lipsticked pout flowed these words......
"Move it, fatso."
Well.
That lipstick is starting to look like the proverbial "Jewel in a pig's snout".
Apparently, pretty only goes skin deep. So very sad, really.
Ok. Before I go any further, I want to say that I realize a few things. First, I know I'm not exactly "slim". I will confess, though, that at a fluffy size 14/16, I hardly consider myself a "fatso". At least, I hadn't until tonight. I have learned to appreciate my body in all sizes, and believe me...my body goes through sizes like Taylor Swift goes through boyfriends.
Seven years ago, I was a petite size 2. And then I had 5 babies back-to-back. And breastfed those babies. I literally have been all numerical sizes in between, and I have the boxes of clothes to prove it. But here's the thing.....while I'm breastfeeding, those extra pounds DO NOT BUDGE. Period. I've had 10 postpartum experiences, and during the first 9, I tried EVERY SINGLE DIET KNOWN TO MAN. But nothing works. Until I quit nursing. Then I'll start to get my waist back. But like I said....5 babies in 6 years. Haven't really had time to bounce back yet. And I'm still nursing baby #10.
I have no intention of quiting just yet. It's the best thing for him, and I need a better reason than "I want to lose weight".
All that to say: yes...I could stand to lose a few pounds. But while I know that, and I have time to work on that, I wonder.
Do you, wispy texting gal, know just how much impact you have with your words? Do you even understand or stop to think....how the words you speak, even just passing by, have an effect on those you utter them to?
I came home tonight, not happy about the time I got to spend one-on-one with my precious daughter, but sad and hurt because a complete stranger called me an ugly name in front of her.
Do you know how your words affected her? My sweet, impressionable pre-teen daughter?
I venture to say that no, you don't. You have no clue. I say this because you were so wrapped up in your own existence. In that text that simply couldn't wait.
Do you know how your words affected me? Would you even care that I came home nearly in tears, relating the entire episode to my husband while he sat silently and listened?
Do you know how your words affected my husband, though he didn't hear them directly? No, you wouldn't know that the man that has stood beside me, lifting me up, encouraging me, loving me....you wouldn't know that he felt sad & just a bit helpless. All these years he's spent teaching me to love, respect & appreciate my body....to have confidence in my beauty....all threatened with a 2 second sentence from a stranger.
So as I sit here tonight, I am praying for you. Praying that it was a moment of weakness for you. Praying that you realize, before it's too late, the power of your words. Whether intentional or not. Familiar person or stranger.
Above all, wispy young thing, I pray that you KNOW THAT YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Because knowing that, deep down in your soul, will help you treat others as if THEY are beautiful.
And they are.
You are.
I am.
Even if I have extra junk in my trunk and donut glaze on my upper lip.
Yum.
PS. Eat a donut. They make everyone smile. :)
Ok...in all honesty, the donuts were for my oldest son. I'm a chocolate glazed kind of gal.
But I digress.
This young gal was looking down as she ambled up the aisle, eyes intently staring at her phone as she texted an OH, so IMPORTANT message. At least, I *assume* it was of dire importance, since she couldn't take a millisecond to glance up. As she strolled closer to us, I pressed myself as far to the left as I could, up against the wall of baby formula, pulling my daughter behind me to allow her to pass. And pass she did. But not before taking off what, if I had been a sedan, would be considered my passenger side mirror.
At long last, she glanced up. And out of her perfectly lipsticked pout flowed these words......
"Move it, fatso."
Well.
That lipstick is starting to look like the proverbial "Jewel in a pig's snout".
Apparently, pretty only goes skin deep. So very sad, really.
Ok. Before I go any further, I want to say that I realize a few things. First, I know I'm not exactly "slim". I will confess, though, that at a fluffy size 14/16, I hardly consider myself a "fatso". At least, I hadn't until tonight. I have learned to appreciate my body in all sizes, and believe me...my body goes through sizes like Taylor Swift goes through boyfriends.
Seven years ago, I was a petite size 2. And then I had 5 babies back-to-back. And breastfed those babies. I literally have been all numerical sizes in between, and I have the boxes of clothes to prove it. But here's the thing.....while I'm breastfeeding, those extra pounds DO NOT BUDGE. Period. I've had 10 postpartum experiences, and during the first 9, I tried EVERY SINGLE DIET KNOWN TO MAN. But nothing works. Until I quit nursing. Then I'll start to get my waist back. But like I said....5 babies in 6 years. Haven't really had time to bounce back yet. And I'm still nursing baby #10.
I have no intention of quiting just yet. It's the best thing for him, and I need a better reason than "I want to lose weight".
All that to say: yes...I could stand to lose a few pounds. But while I know that, and I have time to work on that, I wonder.
Do you, wispy texting gal, know just how much impact you have with your words? Do you even understand or stop to think....how the words you speak, even just passing by, have an effect on those you utter them to?
I came home tonight, not happy about the time I got to spend one-on-one with my precious daughter, but sad and hurt because a complete stranger called me an ugly name in front of her.
Do you know how your words affected her? My sweet, impressionable pre-teen daughter?
I venture to say that no, you don't. You have no clue. I say this because you were so wrapped up in your own existence. In that text that simply couldn't wait.
Do you know how your words affected me? Would you even care that I came home nearly in tears, relating the entire episode to my husband while he sat silently and listened?
Do you know how your words affected my husband, though he didn't hear them directly? No, you wouldn't know that the man that has stood beside me, lifting me up, encouraging me, loving me....you wouldn't know that he felt sad & just a bit helpless. All these years he's spent teaching me to love, respect & appreciate my body....to have confidence in my beauty....all threatened with a 2 second sentence from a stranger.
So as I sit here tonight, I am praying for you. Praying that it was a moment of weakness for you. Praying that you realize, before it's too late, the power of your words. Whether intentional or not. Familiar person or stranger.
Above all, wispy young thing, I pray that you KNOW THAT YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Because knowing that, deep down in your soul, will help you treat others as if THEY are beautiful.
And they are.
You are.
I am.
Even if I have extra junk in my trunk and donut glaze on my upper lip.
Yum.
PS. Eat a donut. They make everyone smile. :)
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Back in the saddle
After 3 years and just as many new babies....I'm back. And it's all hubby's idea. Blogging about my days spent covered in peanutbutter kisses, mud pie handprints and baby spit-up, coralling preschoolers, refereeing tweens & teens, and all while trying to manage the homeschooling of the whole lot. Sounds entertaining, huh?
Oh, I promise that it will be. But please excuse the typos. That peanutbutter gets everywhere and it's hard to type with a few kids on the lap. ;)
Oh, I promise that it will be. But please excuse the typos. That peanutbutter gets everywhere and it's hard to type with a few kids on the lap. ;)
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Self confessions
Ok, I'm tired of being fluffy. There, I said it. I've admitted it.
I know I've had 8 kids and I'm entitled to a little bit of fluff. And, granted, I do hear shocked comments from people on a regular basis (You've had 8 kids?! Wow, you look great!!). I don't know if they are referring to my body or my lack of gray hair & wrinkles. I'll take either one.
Here's the hard part to admit, though. I've always had a really bad self-image. No confidence whatsoever. That doesn't sound so bad, but here's the kicker- for the past 20 years, I have struggled, alternately, with bulimia & anorexia. Yes, Ana & Mia have been some of my best friends, ones I turn to every time I start feeling like I can't cope with my emotions or just life in general.
Now, if you've known anyone with these disorders, you KNOW that 99% of the time, they won't admit there's a problem. Most of the time, they don't know it themselves. It's not something you can "just quit doing" or "get over". It may start out as a way to lose weight for some, and spiral out of control. But for others, like me, it's a way to deal with life when we are stressed, have no one to listen, no one that cares (so we think) and no way to work through our feelings. It's extremely complicated & sad. Few people get that or even want to.
That being said, I've been OK for the past 2 years. That doesn't mean I haven't struggled. That just means I haven't given in to every single urge to binge & purge or starve. I've tried to be healthy. Tried to love my body for what it is & can do (it does produce some wonderful & beautiful children!). Most of the time, I'm successful. And when I do have moments of loathing for my body, I make sure I'm not expressing it in front of my girls. That's what scares me most- that one day my 5 girls may be fighting this battle themselves, and I'll be watching helplessly from the sidelines.
One very intregal part of my healing has been my husband's support. Yes, he knows my struggles (after years of hiding it) and he's been very supportive. His near constant reassurance that I'm beautiful, sexy and just all around wonderful has been a lifeline for me. I'm slowly starting to build the confidence that I've always needed.
Now I'm working on how to deal with the stresses of everyday life. When I get overwhelmed & things feel like they are out of control, it's so very easy to turn to something I CAN control, like food.
I've never had a support group, never had friends to turn to. There have been times (every day that ends in Y) that I would give ANYTHING to have a best gal friend to call up & just talk to. But I'm not good at forming relationships, seeking them out. Another confidence I have yet to build. I have never felt like I'm anyone worth getting to know, to like. Why would anyone waste time on me?
Which brings me to the point of all this....I am making a commitment to MYSELF.
I am going to start eating healthy. Start exercising regularly. I will say 10 positive things to myself every morning, and every time I think something negative, I will counter that with 5 positives. I will not depend on other's opinions of me for my self worth or value. I will spend more time reading the Bible and living up to GOD'S expectations.
And I will love myself. Every part of me. Inside & out, for no other reason than I AM FEARFULLY & WONDERFULLY MADE.
I know I've had 8 kids and I'm entitled to a little bit of fluff. And, granted, I do hear shocked comments from people on a regular basis (You've had 8 kids?! Wow, you look great!!). I don't know if they are referring to my body or my lack of gray hair & wrinkles. I'll take either one.
Here's the hard part to admit, though. I've always had a really bad self-image. No confidence whatsoever. That doesn't sound so bad, but here's the kicker- for the past 20 years, I have struggled, alternately, with bulimia & anorexia. Yes, Ana & Mia have been some of my best friends, ones I turn to every time I start feeling like I can't cope with my emotions or just life in general.
Now, if you've known anyone with these disorders, you KNOW that 99% of the time, they won't admit there's a problem. Most of the time, they don't know it themselves. It's not something you can "just quit doing" or "get over". It may start out as a way to lose weight for some, and spiral out of control. But for others, like me, it's a way to deal with life when we are stressed, have no one to listen, no one that cares (so we think) and no way to work through our feelings. It's extremely complicated & sad. Few people get that or even want to.
That being said, I've been OK for the past 2 years. That doesn't mean I haven't struggled. That just means I haven't given in to every single urge to binge & purge or starve. I've tried to be healthy. Tried to love my body for what it is & can do (it does produce some wonderful & beautiful children!). Most of the time, I'm successful. And when I do have moments of loathing for my body, I make sure I'm not expressing it in front of my girls. That's what scares me most- that one day my 5 girls may be fighting this battle themselves, and I'll be watching helplessly from the sidelines.
One very intregal part of my healing has been my husband's support. Yes, he knows my struggles (after years of hiding it) and he's been very supportive. His near constant reassurance that I'm beautiful, sexy and just all around wonderful has been a lifeline for me. I'm slowly starting to build the confidence that I've always needed.
Now I'm working on how to deal with the stresses of everyday life. When I get overwhelmed & things feel like they are out of control, it's so very easy to turn to something I CAN control, like food.
I've never had a support group, never had friends to turn to. There have been times (every day that ends in Y) that I would give ANYTHING to have a best gal friend to call up & just talk to. But I'm not good at forming relationships, seeking them out. Another confidence I have yet to build. I have never felt like I'm anyone worth getting to know, to like. Why would anyone waste time on me?
Which brings me to the point of all this....I am making a commitment to MYSELF.
I am going to start eating healthy. Start exercising regularly. I will say 10 positive things to myself every morning, and every time I think something negative, I will counter that with 5 positives. I will not depend on other's opinions of me for my self worth or value. I will spend more time reading the Bible and living up to GOD'S expectations.
And I will love myself. Every part of me. Inside & out, for no other reason than I AM FEARFULLY & WONDERFULLY MADE.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Please hold the revolving door....
I have come to the conclusion that we really should have put a revolving door in our bathroom. I guess it's not too late, really. After a year, we're STILL in the process of remodeling. And that's OK. I'm not in a hurry. After all, who needs a sink, really? That's why God created bathtubs.
But a revolving door.....AH.....that'd be nice.
I've done the math. 7 kids, 6 of which are potty trained. 2 adults, 1 of which is 41 weeks pregnant with what feels like a 15 lb baby doing a headstand on her bladder.
In total- 8 people using the bathroom. If each person uses the bathroom approximately 8 times during a 14 hour day, that's 64 bathroom trips. Add about 50 more for the pregnant lady, who goes 24/7. Now we're up to 114 potty breaks.
Since there are 840 minutes in 14 hours, that's about 7.3 minutes in between potty breaks. Give a little more between times if you're including the other 10 hours for the pregnant lady.
And those numbers are JUST for the tinkles! We haven't even figured in the #2's!! Yikes!
You can imagine how much wear & tear this puts on the door hinges & lock. Not to mention the damage done to the frame when someone is desperately needing the potty, but it's already in use.
*bang bang* hurry up in there!!!!
I'm really gonna have to stop doing that.....
But a revolving door. That'd be a time saver & definite conversation piece. And to save even more time, the door could be mirrored! No more waiting for the bathroom to be free so you can fix your hair! (with 5 girls, that'd be a life saver!!) And if the door had 4 panels, that means 4 girls could each fix their hair at the same time....Whooot!!!
Then again, maybe it'd just be simpler to get the 2nd bathroom finished. Wasn't it Einstein that said "Two toilets are better than 1?"
Hmmmm...actually, that was probably my grandma. She had 11 kids.......
But a revolving door.....AH.....that'd be nice.
I've done the math. 7 kids, 6 of which are potty trained. 2 adults, 1 of which is 41 weeks pregnant with what feels like a 15 lb baby doing a headstand on her bladder.
In total- 8 people using the bathroom. If each person uses the bathroom approximately 8 times during a 14 hour day, that's 64 bathroom trips. Add about 50 more for the pregnant lady, who goes 24/7. Now we're up to 114 potty breaks.
Since there are 840 minutes in 14 hours, that's about 7.3 minutes in between potty breaks. Give a little more between times if you're including the other 10 hours for the pregnant lady.
And those numbers are JUST for the tinkles! We haven't even figured in the #2's!! Yikes!
You can imagine how much wear & tear this puts on the door hinges & lock. Not to mention the damage done to the frame when someone is desperately needing the potty, but it's already in use.
*bang bang* hurry up in there!!!!
I'm really gonna have to stop doing that.....
But a revolving door. That'd be a time saver & definite conversation piece. And to save even more time, the door could be mirrored! No more waiting for the bathroom to be free so you can fix your hair! (with 5 girls, that'd be a life saver!!) And if the door had 4 panels, that means 4 girls could each fix their hair at the same time....Whooot!!!
Then again, maybe it'd just be simpler to get the 2nd bathroom finished. Wasn't it Einstein that said "Two toilets are better than 1?"
Hmmmm...actually, that was probably my grandma. She had 11 kids.......
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Oh, no you didn't!!
Ok, my hubby is 98% perfect, 98% of the time. Honest. But this morning, he showed his other 2%...and completely ignored his inner voice screaming "DON'T SAY THAT TO HER!!" But then again, maybe that voice was asleep....
He reached over to rub my belly...to make sure that it was STILL THERE. (duh!?) I, naturally, had a pregnancy-hormone induced freak out: "YES, It's still there...YES, I"m still pregnant. I'm going to be pregnant for freaking EVER, I'll NEVER have this baby, I"m going to be pregnant for 11 months, just like my AUNT, they'll have to cut this baby out of me."
Him (here it is): "Oh, you know that's not true...it'll happen eventually..."
Me (blubbering): "Yeah, and in the *bleep* meantime, I'm waddling like an obese duck, I can't do crud around the house, Can't keep up with the kids, I can't sleep at night, just thinking about food gives me heartburn, my hips are killing me and I can't sneeze without feeling like the baby is gonna go flying."
Then he says....."Ok, I just want to make this isn't all about me."
Me: "WHAT?!"
Him: "You know....are you just worried because I can't start my vacation yet & you feel bad about that?"
Yeah, his 2% obviously lacked sleep last night & had to make itself known this morning. If he'd been awake, he'd been his normal 98% perfect self and just held me when I had my meltdown, whipping out a chocolate bar afterwards.
But that's OK...I still love him. :o) He told me I was still beautiful & sexy after my freakout. Any man that can fib like that & make it sound so believable has to be perfect, right? :P
He reached over to rub my belly...to make sure that it was STILL THERE. (duh!?) I, naturally, had a pregnancy-hormone induced freak out: "YES, It's still there...YES, I"m still pregnant. I'm going to be pregnant for freaking EVER, I'll NEVER have this baby, I"m going to be pregnant for 11 months, just like my AUNT, they'll have to cut this baby out of me."
Him (here it is): "Oh, you know that's not true...it'll happen eventually..."
Me (blubbering): "Yeah, and in the *bleep* meantime, I'm waddling like an obese duck, I can't do crud around the house, Can't keep up with the kids, I can't sleep at night, just thinking about food gives me heartburn, my hips are killing me and I can't sneeze without feeling like the baby is gonna go flying."
Then he says....."Ok, I just want to make this isn't all about me."
Me: "WHAT?!"
Him: "You know....are you just worried because I can't start my vacation yet & you feel bad about that?"
Yeah, his 2% obviously lacked sleep last night & had to make itself known this morning. If he'd been awake, he'd been his normal 98% perfect self and just held me when I had my meltdown, whipping out a chocolate bar afterwards.
But that's OK...I still love him. :o) He told me I was still beautiful & sexy after my freakout. Any man that can fib like that & make it sound so believable has to be perfect, right? :P
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Turning inside out
Ok, my body is turning itself inside out. This is what it literally feels like. I'm hoping that it's early labor. But it could just be a nasty stomach bug. We seem to bring those home alot. Funny that it hasn't bothered anyone else but me. Oh well, that seems to be my luck too. Of course, it could be the massive storm system moving in. The weatherman says it's supposed to be a bit windy, followed by some rain. There's a chance of a random tornado thrown in there, too....but I don't know about that. I haven't seen any cows fly by yet.
Although, the dog has been running in circles & barking at the sky. Maybe the cows are too high up for me to see.
Then again, maybe all my digestive issues are simply a case of nerves. Or food poisoning. It's hard to tell the difference sometimes.
Whatever it is, the worse that could happen is that it results in a baby or a 5 lbs weight loss. Until then...I'm just miserable. On the bright side, I've come to love the cool tile floor in the bathroom. It's quite relaxing.....
Although, the dog has been running in circles & barking at the sky. Maybe the cows are too high up for me to see.
Then again, maybe all my digestive issues are simply a case of nerves. Or food poisoning. It's hard to tell the difference sometimes.
Whatever it is, the worse that could happen is that it results in a baby or a 5 lbs weight loss. Until then...I'm just miserable. On the bright side, I've come to love the cool tile floor in the bathroom. It's quite relaxing.....
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Good Vibrations!
So we had our first earthquake last night. Yay!
Well, OK...the first one we could actually FEEL.
We have decided that child #7- the 1 year old- can predict earthquakes. On Friday night, around 2:10 am...she wakes up. Playing, happy, talking, chattering away. So cute. So cuddly. So AWAKE. At 2:12, we have a 4.7 earthquake. What a coincidence. If you believe in that sort of thing. Hubby was more like.."Okay baby...you're not that cute. Go to SLEEP and SHUSH!!!!!"
Think that was the lack of sleep talking. Or he was channeling his inner grizzly bear. Either way.
So last night, we were enjoying sitting on the bed, babies asleep (yay!!). Hubby was watching the news, I was reading a book (a very GOOD book, the latest by Livia J Washburn, I highly recommend her books!). We were just listening to the quiet, soft little baby snores. That suddenly sounded like a freight train? Hmmm. Sleep apnea? Cold with chest congestion? And why is the bed shaking??
Kid #2 comes running in the bedroom & asks why the floor is shaking, why are things falling off the bookshelves?
Then it hits us.....OHHHHHHH. Earthquake!! Wowie!
We were so busy being excited that we plumb forgot to be worried. Good thing it wasn't a bigger one, or we'd have been crushed by falling books & run through by sharpened pencils.
Well, OK...the first one we could actually FEEL.
We have decided that child #7- the 1 year old- can predict earthquakes. On Friday night, around 2:10 am...she wakes up. Playing, happy, talking, chattering away. So cute. So cuddly. So AWAKE. At 2:12, we have a 4.7 earthquake. What a coincidence. If you believe in that sort of thing. Hubby was more like.."Okay baby...you're not that cute. Go to SLEEP and SHUSH!!!!!"
Think that was the lack of sleep talking. Or he was channeling his inner grizzly bear. Either way.
So last night, we were enjoying sitting on the bed, babies asleep (yay!!). Hubby was watching the news, I was reading a book (a very GOOD book, the latest by Livia J Washburn, I highly recommend her books!). We were just listening to the quiet, soft little baby snores. That suddenly sounded like a freight train? Hmmm. Sleep apnea? Cold with chest congestion? And why is the bed shaking??
Kid #2 comes running in the bedroom & asks why the floor is shaking, why are things falling off the bookshelves?
Then it hits us.....OHHHHHHH. Earthquake!! Wowie!
We were so busy being excited that we plumb forgot to be worried. Good thing it wasn't a bigger one, or we'd have been crushed by falling books & run through by sharpened pencils.
Friday, October 28, 2011
D.I.P.S.
Dumbness
Induced by
Pregnancy
Symptoms
Long time, no post.
Well, OK. It's only been a week. A very LONG week.
Oh, the things I've seen, smelled, done, prevented & cleaned up this week! And the kids made some messes, too! :P
It's getting to that special time in the pregnancy where the D.I.P.S. take hold. Now, I've ALWAYS had some of the D's. In fact, they never left after baby #4. I think they've taken up permanent refuge. Honestly. Just ask #2, who needed some milk for his cereal, looked for it for 20 minutes, and *finally* located it in the microwave. Guess who was the last one to use the milk? Uh-huh.
And what's worse....do you know how hard it must've been for me to FIT it in the microwave to begin with? We can barely get a bowl of ramen noodles in there, for crying out loud, much less a 1/2 gallon of milk. I'm sure it took some shoehorning, but I certainly don't remember it.
That's all perfectly normal around here. Happens quite often, in fact (we go through a lot of milk).
So, no....the D.I.P.S. that I'm referring to are worse. Example: Hubby had this morning off work, so he suggests I go grocery shopping alone (gasp!). Yay! Off I go. Several employees at store #1 say to me "Oh, all by yourself today?" And I say..."No...the kids are here somewhere.", completely convinced that they were. UmmmHmmmm.
A few mornings ago, I put my jeans on inside out. And never even noticed when I had to reach INSIDE my pants to put something in my pocket. My 2yr old had to point it out to me before I noticed. My older kids, bless their hearts, never said a word. Or maybe they never noticed. And if they DID, just thought it was normal.
Yep.
So that stuff isn't really bad. Embarrassing, sure. But I've still got 4.5 months to go. There's plenty of time.
Induced by
Pregnancy
Symptoms
Long time, no post.
Well, OK. It's only been a week. A very LONG week.
Oh, the things I've seen, smelled, done, prevented & cleaned up this week! And the kids made some messes, too! :P
It's getting to that special time in the pregnancy where the D.I.P.S. take hold. Now, I've ALWAYS had some of the D's. In fact, they never left after baby #4. I think they've taken up permanent refuge. Honestly. Just ask #2, who needed some milk for his cereal, looked for it for 20 minutes, and *finally* located it in the microwave. Guess who was the last one to use the milk? Uh-huh.
And what's worse....do you know how hard it must've been for me to FIT it in the microwave to begin with? We can barely get a bowl of ramen noodles in there, for crying out loud, much less a 1/2 gallon of milk. I'm sure it took some shoehorning, but I certainly don't remember it.
That's all perfectly normal around here. Happens quite often, in fact (we go through a lot of milk).
So, no....the D.I.P.S. that I'm referring to are worse. Example: Hubby had this morning off work, so he suggests I go grocery shopping alone (gasp!). Yay! Off I go. Several employees at store #1 say to me "Oh, all by yourself today?" And I say..."No...the kids are here somewhere.", completely convinced that they were. UmmmHmmmm.
A few mornings ago, I put my jeans on inside out. And never even noticed when I had to reach INSIDE my pants to put something in my pocket. My 2yr old had to point it out to me before I noticed. My older kids, bless their hearts, never said a word. Or maybe they never noticed. And if they DID, just thought it was normal.
Yep.
So that stuff isn't really bad. Embarrassing, sure. But I've still got 4.5 months to go. There's plenty of time.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Wood Fires...and whoops, there's a fire!
It's that time of the year that I love....time to build the first fire! Yay! :) Of course, there is much to be done before you can actually light that fire. Preventative measures & all that. So, I've got to put my hubby to work! Clean that chimney, dear! Cut, split, & stack that wood, lover! Now rub those sticks together & make that fire! Ok, so we have matches. Guess you're allowed to cheat on that one.
First up, hubby climbs on the roof with the 15ft brush & pole. Chimney cleaning time! Let's involve the kids, make it a family affair! So, kid #3 is standing directly under the stovepipe, on the inside, holding a plastic bag over the end so that nasty black soot & whatever else doesn't fall into the stove. Kid #2 is holding the ladder. Not sure why, since no one is ON the thing. Kids #6 & 4 are outside pointing up at daddy & laughing. Hope he's not easily distracted. Kids #1, 5 & 7 are completely oblivious, just sitting on their hineys watching TV.
Me? I'm watching out the windows, waiting for something to come flying off the roof. And sure enough, something does. Not quite big enough to be hubby. But it looks like a blue iguana. Hmmm. Hubby must have found Iggy.
Now there is much yelling & hollering going on. Seems kid #6 decided she wanted to climb the ladder & kid #2 is convinced he can't let go of it long enough to get her down. Though I'm pretty sure that's why it has 4 legs. So it can stand BY ITSELF.
Ok, crisis over. Kid #4 decided to help rescue #6. Although she REALLY wanted to go help daddy on the roof. But I know that if she gets up there, she'll decide it's a great time to test her theory of flight. Which involves baggy pants, open jacket & lots of flapping & squealing. Not a good idea. At least not from 15 ft. Unless she uses some plastic bag parachutes and we had a trampoline. Then maybe.
So...finally...all is clean & soot free. Hubby & kids are safely on the ground. Now on to stacking that firewood.
Wait....did something just fly past my window?
where is #4.....???
First up, hubby climbs on the roof with the 15ft brush & pole. Chimney cleaning time! Let's involve the kids, make it a family affair! So, kid #3 is standing directly under the stovepipe, on the inside, holding a plastic bag over the end so that nasty black soot & whatever else doesn't fall into the stove. Kid #2 is holding the ladder. Not sure why, since no one is ON the thing. Kids #6 & 4 are outside pointing up at daddy & laughing. Hope he's not easily distracted. Kids #1, 5 & 7 are completely oblivious, just sitting on their hineys watching TV.
Me? I'm watching out the windows, waiting for something to come flying off the roof. And sure enough, something does. Not quite big enough to be hubby. But it looks like a blue iguana. Hmmm. Hubby must have found Iggy.
Now there is much yelling & hollering going on. Seems kid #6 decided she wanted to climb the ladder & kid #2 is convinced he can't let go of it long enough to get her down. Though I'm pretty sure that's why it has 4 legs. So it can stand BY ITSELF.
Ok, crisis over. Kid #4 decided to help rescue #6. Although she REALLY wanted to go help daddy on the roof. But I know that if she gets up there, she'll decide it's a great time to test her theory of flight. Which involves baggy pants, open jacket & lots of flapping & squealing. Not a good idea. At least not from 15 ft. Unless she uses some plastic bag parachutes and we had a trampoline. Then maybe.
So...finally...all is clean & soot free. Hubby & kids are safely on the ground. Now on to stacking that firewood.
Wait....did something just fly past my window?
where is #4.....???
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Ohhhh, my......
Scandy Bars! (or chocolate porn!)
There are only a handful of websites that I check each day. You know, the REALLY important stuff: facebook, ebay, amazon, gardenweb and....SCANDYBARS!
Facebook & gardenweb are for my social life, ebay & amazon are my "business" sites, and scandybars is my secret sin.
Well. I guess it isn't so secret any more, is it?
There is some deep, emotional & physical part of me that really gets off on naked candy bars. All up close & showing their intimate parts.
Much salivating & moaning ensue.
I think my hubby is jealous. He hasn't seen me this excited since I discovered Nutella comes in giant size tubs.
Maybe if he'd dress up as a giant Whatchamacallit or Reese's cup......
There are only a handful of websites that I check each day. You know, the REALLY important stuff: facebook, ebay, amazon, gardenweb and....SCANDYBARS!
Facebook & gardenweb are for my social life, ebay & amazon are my "business" sites, and scandybars is my secret sin.
Well. I guess it isn't so secret any more, is it?
There is some deep, emotional & physical part of me that really gets off on naked candy bars. All up close & showing their intimate parts.
Much salivating & moaning ensue.
I think my hubby is jealous. He hasn't seen me this excited since I discovered Nutella comes in giant size tubs.
Maybe if he'd dress up as a giant Whatchamacallit or Reese's cup......
Friday, October 7, 2011
Baker's dozen....
So it was bound to happen. People noticing my baby bump, that is.
I'm always excited to start showing. I mean, REALLY showing. Not a slightly pudgy, gosh-she's-gaining-weight kind of belly. I hate that stage! But a true, round, feminine, fertile, goddess shape. The shape that men have painted for centuries as an example of true womanly beauty. (Have you ever noticed that not one man painted a Twiggy type lady in his paintings centuries ago? I think I was born 300 years too late!)
But, alas...with the belly bump & 7 kids tagging along behind me comes the inevitable questions, comments, belly-rubs & insults. So, I've got a list of come-backs ready. Hey, I've had 7 pregnancies to perfect them! Here are some of the ones I use most often:
1. Yes, we know what causes it and we LOVE doing it!
2. No, I do NOT have my hands full....but we're working on it!
3. No, I am NOT getting "fixed". Clearly, nothing is broken!
4. If you think my hands are full, you should see my heart!
5. Yes, they're all mi.....WAIT....where did THAT one come from??
6. No, we plan to keep going till we get an ugly one!
7. We're not trying to over populate the earth....just out number the idiots!
8. No, they're not all mine. I gather up the neighbors' kids & THEN go shopping!
9. I'm glad it's me and not you, too!!
10. Careful....I ate the last person that commented on my weight!
11. Pregnant? No, I'm shop-lifting a basketball. Shhhh!
12. I may be huge, but at least I don't say stupid things to pregnant women!
13. Wow...that was a rude thing to say. Have you been talking to my mother?
I'm always excited to start showing. I mean, REALLY showing. Not a slightly pudgy, gosh-she's-gaining-weight kind of belly. I hate that stage! But a true, round, feminine, fertile, goddess shape. The shape that men have painted for centuries as an example of true womanly beauty. (Have you ever noticed that not one man painted a Twiggy type lady in his paintings centuries ago? I think I was born 300 years too late!)
But, alas...with the belly bump & 7 kids tagging along behind me comes the inevitable questions, comments, belly-rubs & insults. So, I've got a list of come-backs ready. Hey, I've had 7 pregnancies to perfect them! Here are some of the ones I use most often:
1. Yes, we know what causes it and we LOVE doing it!
2. No, I do NOT have my hands full....but we're working on it!
3. No, I am NOT getting "fixed". Clearly, nothing is broken!
4. If you think my hands are full, you should see my heart!
5. Yes, they're all mi.....WAIT....where did THAT one come from??
6. No, we plan to keep going till we get an ugly one!
7. We're not trying to over populate the earth....just out number the idiots!
8. No, they're not all mine. I gather up the neighbors' kids & THEN go shopping!
9. I'm glad it's me and not you, too!!
10. Careful....I ate the last person that commented on my weight!
11. Pregnant? No, I'm shop-lifting a basketball. Shhhh!
12. I may be huge, but at least I don't say stupid things to pregnant women!
13. Wow...that was a rude thing to say. Have you been talking to my mother?
Shopping with the Zoo
It's Friday. Which means it's shopping day. Quite easily my favorite day of the week. And the most dreaded. Sound contradictory? Yes...but let me explain. I LOVE Fridays because it's the one day of the week that I get out of the house....AND get to participate in one of my favorite hobbies: Shopping! Sure, we're on a strict budget. And yeah, I'm only getting groceries. But still! I'm out of my 4 walls! Freedom in a club wagon! And I get to spend money! YAY!
BUT. Like I said, it's a dreaded day, too. I have to get 7 kids fed, cleaned up, dressed & in the van. Without losing one of them OR my mind. Let me put it this way.....have you ever tried to herd, rope & dress a feral cat? Times that by 7, and you get a pretty good idea of what some mornings are like. Not to mention finding those darn shoes. They like to walk off, you know. How we can lose 14 shoes EVERY SINGLE DAY, I have no idea. It's not like this house is a McMansion or naything. Sheesh.
Ok....Now...granted. The boys are old enough to get dressed by themselves & make themselves fairly presentable (no, young man..you may NOT wear the duct tape covered shoes and PLEASE wash your face!). And my oldest 2 girls do an OK job too. Well, if you don't mind lime green pants, polka dot skirts, floral & striped shirt & bed head hair. With sandals & socks, of course. All at once.
BUT the babies can't really dress themselves yet. So it's assembly line time...get one diaper changed, move to the next. Pants, shirts, shoes. Whoops, baby #1 is nakie, gotta start over. By the time I've dressed & re-dressed those 2, it's been an hour. And the oldest ones have forgotten that we're going out, so they've taken their shoes off & lost them. Again.
*sigh*
And we're finally off. Think I might treat myself to a jar of Nutella. One of the perks of being in charge of the grocery budget. (Just don't tell my hubby that, he's trying to eat healthier and wants me along for the ride....but you don't stand between a pregnant lady & her chocolate. THAT wouldn't be healthy for either one of us.)
BUT. Like I said, it's a dreaded day, too. I have to get 7 kids fed, cleaned up, dressed & in the van. Without losing one of them OR my mind. Let me put it this way.....have you ever tried to herd, rope & dress a feral cat? Times that by 7, and you get a pretty good idea of what some mornings are like. Not to mention finding those darn shoes. They like to walk off, you know. How we can lose 14 shoes EVERY SINGLE DAY, I have no idea. It's not like this house is a McMansion or naything. Sheesh.
Ok....Now...granted. The boys are old enough to get dressed by themselves & make themselves fairly presentable (no, young man..you may NOT wear the duct tape covered shoes and PLEASE wash your face!). And my oldest 2 girls do an OK job too. Well, if you don't mind lime green pants, polka dot skirts, floral & striped shirt & bed head hair. With sandals & socks, of course. All at once.
BUT the babies can't really dress themselves yet. So it's assembly line time...get one diaper changed, move to the next. Pants, shirts, shoes. Whoops, baby #1 is nakie, gotta start over. By the time I've dressed & re-dressed those 2, it's been an hour. And the oldest ones have forgotten that we're going out, so they've taken their shoes off & lost them. Again.
*sigh*
And we're finally off. Think I might treat myself to a jar of Nutella. One of the perks of being in charge of the grocery budget. (Just don't tell my hubby that, he's trying to eat healthier and wants me along for the ride....but you don't stand between a pregnant lady & her chocolate. THAT wouldn't be healthy for either one of us.)
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Let's try that again....
So after watching an episode of Mythbusters where they tried out that old camp trick of sticking a sleeping someone's hand in a bowl of warm water (to see if they pee the bed), I thought....."What a fun idea! I'm gonna try that tonight with my kids!"
Ok. Stop your groaning. I know you've stopped to think through the consequences...but I haven't learned to do that just yet. May be a trick that comes in handy, though.
Anyway. First up, I thought I'd try it on my 2 yr old. She's a pretty deep sleeper, so it should work GREAT. But after sitting there with her hand in the water for a solid 5 minutes, my patience is wearing thin. No wet, soppy results yet. OH. wait. She's still in diapers. DUH.
Ok, on to victim #2. Think I'll get that 15 yr old. He's been pretty moody today, so this will be fun. It's off to a terrific start, I only spilled half the water going up the stairs. Now to navigate my way over to his bed....across the piles of clothes, legos, toys & other teenage things.....trying not to trip or wake up the other 2 boys. Oops, spilled more water. Oh well, there's still enough to dip his fingers in. So now I've made it. Let's get those fingers in here. Wait, he's sleeping on his hands. Hmm. Well, toes should work too, right? OK. Let's grab some toes! Got his piggy toe in there. Not really enough room for the others. Sitting here for 10 minutes. My legs are numb and I'm getting hungry. *sigh*
I give up. I think I'll just pour the water over his butt and see if he notices.
Reaction: SNNNNNZZZZZZZZ
So now I haven't woken anyone up, haven't made them pee, and have wasted a good 30 minutes stalking around my house making a wet trail to mop up.
Well. Fine. It didn't work for Mythbusters, either. In retrospect...maybe it's a good thing it didn't work. I am the one that has to change & wash the sheets. (told ya I need that think-of-the-consequences thing to kick in)
Guess I'll have to try something else.
Maybe that shaving cream in the hand thing.
Mwwaahahaaaaa. Yes, I know the perfect kid to test that one on.......
Ok. Stop your groaning. I know you've stopped to think through the consequences...but I haven't learned to do that just yet. May be a trick that comes in handy, though.
Anyway. First up, I thought I'd try it on my 2 yr old. She's a pretty deep sleeper, so it should work GREAT. But after sitting there with her hand in the water for a solid 5 minutes, my patience is wearing thin. No wet, soppy results yet. OH. wait. She's still in diapers. DUH.
Ok, on to victim #2. Think I'll get that 15 yr old. He's been pretty moody today, so this will be fun. It's off to a terrific start, I only spilled half the water going up the stairs. Now to navigate my way over to his bed....across the piles of clothes, legos, toys & other teenage things.....trying not to trip or wake up the other 2 boys. Oops, spilled more water. Oh well, there's still enough to dip his fingers in. So now I've made it. Let's get those fingers in here. Wait, he's sleeping on his hands. Hmm. Well, toes should work too, right? OK. Let's grab some toes! Got his piggy toe in there. Not really enough room for the others. Sitting here for 10 minutes. My legs are numb and I'm getting hungry. *sigh*
I give up. I think I'll just pour the water over his butt and see if he notices.
Reaction: SNNNNNZZZZZZZZ
So now I haven't woken anyone up, haven't made them pee, and have wasted a good 30 minutes stalking around my house making a wet trail to mop up.
Well. Fine. It didn't work for Mythbusters, either. In retrospect...maybe it's a good thing it didn't work. I am the one that has to change & wash the sheets. (told ya I need that think-of-the-consequences thing to kick in)
Guess I'll have to try something else.
Maybe that shaving cream in the hand thing.
Mwwaahahaaaaa. Yes, I know the perfect kid to test that one on.......
Monday, October 3, 2011
The Nightlife
This is, I think, my favorite time of the day. Bedtime. The time when the only sounds in the house are little snorts, snores & thuds (sometimes the kids fall out of bed....or get pushed out by a sibling...whatever).
Although, when the hubby isn't home, it gets a bit spooky. Is the dog barking because the cat sneezed? Or is there really a burglar outside ready to crawl through my window & steal my valued possessions? (No worries, I've hidden the chocolate)
Is that the hamster running on his wheel? Or Freddy Kruger sharpening his glove on the chalkboard? (maybe I should have him sharpen my butcher's knife while he's at it, it's really dull)
Is that the cat running down the stairs? Or a racoon & his turtle friend emptying my cupboards & loading their wagon with food? (hope they like beans & rice)
See? Things can get pretty spooky when you've got an active imagination & no man to wield your baseball bat.
If you need me, I'll be hiding under my covers with a flashlight & some chocolate. After all....if I can't see THEM, they can't see ME.
.......right??
Although, when the hubby isn't home, it gets a bit spooky. Is the dog barking because the cat sneezed? Or is there really a burglar outside ready to crawl through my window & steal my valued possessions? (No worries, I've hidden the chocolate)
Is that the hamster running on his wheel? Or Freddy Kruger sharpening his glove on the chalkboard? (maybe I should have him sharpen my butcher's knife while he's at it, it's really dull)
Is that the cat running down the stairs? Or a racoon & his turtle friend emptying my cupboards & loading their wagon with food? (hope they like beans & rice)
See? Things can get pretty spooky when you've got an active imagination & no man to wield your baseball bat.
If you need me, I'll be hiding under my covers with a flashlight & some chocolate. After all....if I can't see THEM, they can't see ME.
.......right??
Friday, September 30, 2011
Channeling my mother
*shudder*You know the things you hear your mom say to you & you think..."I will NEVER say that to MY kids!".
Yep, I've been channeling my mother. Lord help me.
Things I've said to my kids in the past 2 weeks alone:
~A little soap & water never killed anybody.
~Am I talking to a brick wall?
~Answer me when I'm talking to you!
~Shut your mouth, I'm speaking!!
~As long as you live under my roof, you'll do as I say.
~Beds are NOT made for jumping on.
~Bored! How can you be bored? I was never bored at your age.
~Close the door! You don't live in a barn.
~Do you think I'm made of money?
~Don't ask me WHY. The answer is NO.
~Do you think your socks are going to pick themselves up?
~Don't make me come in there!
~Don't put that in your mouth, you don't know where it's been.
~How many times do I have to tell you?
~I don't care who started it, YOU stop it!
~Stop crying, or I'll give you something to cry about.
~Do you want some cheese with that whine?
~Do you want a medal? Or a chest to pin it on?
~I brought you into this world, and I can take you out!
~I said CLOSE the door, I did not say slam it!
~I didn't ask who put it there, I said PICK IT UP.
~If you can't say something nice, keep your mouth shut!
~Now, say you're sorry...and MEAN it!
~What part of no don't you understand?
~Wipe that look off your face before I do it for you!
~Just wait until your father gets home!!
But one thing I always say to my kids that my mom rarely said to me:
I LOVE YOU!
Yep, I've been channeling my mother. Lord help me.
Things I've said to my kids in the past 2 weeks alone:
~A little soap & water never killed anybody.
~Am I talking to a brick wall?
~Answer me when I'm talking to you!
~Shut your mouth, I'm speaking!!
~As long as you live under my roof, you'll do as I say.
~Beds are NOT made for jumping on.
~Bored! How can you be bored? I was never bored at your age.
~Close the door! You don't live in a barn.
~Do you think I'm made of money?
~Don't ask me WHY. The answer is NO.
~Do you think your socks are going to pick themselves up?
~Don't make me come in there!
~Don't put that in your mouth, you don't know where it's been.
~How many times do I have to tell you?
~I don't care who started it, YOU stop it!
~Stop crying, or I'll give you something to cry about.
~Do you want some cheese with that whine?
~Do you want a medal? Or a chest to pin it on?
~I brought you into this world, and I can take you out!
~I said CLOSE the door, I did not say slam it!
~I didn't ask who put it there, I said PICK IT UP.
~If you can't say something nice, keep your mouth shut!
~Now, say you're sorry...and MEAN it!
~What part of no don't you understand?
~Wipe that look off your face before I do it for you!
~Just wait until your father gets home!!
But one thing I always say to my kids that my mom rarely said to me:
I LOVE YOU!
Top 10
Top 10 things I never imagined having to say to my kids:
10. Please get your frog out of my coffee.
9. We don't stick our toes up our noses. I don't care if you wanted to see how they smell. They'll get stuck there, and then you'll spend your life looking like a pretzel or a yoga instructor.
8. Get that toilet brush out of your mouth NOW!!
7. Don't poke your sister's eyeballs. They don't work the same as slugs' eyes.
6. Don't pee on the cat!
5. Don't lick the wall.
4. Don't eat your sister's boogers.
3. No, you may NOT tie your brother to the cat & throw him in front of the dog.
2. DON'T EAT THAT SLUG!!!!
1. The blue water in the toilet is NOT kool-aid, and please do NOT put it in your sister's cup.
10. Please get your frog out of my coffee.
9. We don't stick our toes up our noses. I don't care if you wanted to see how they smell. They'll get stuck there, and then you'll spend your life looking like a pretzel or a yoga instructor.
8. Get that toilet brush out of your mouth NOW!!
7. Don't poke your sister's eyeballs. They don't work the same as slugs' eyes.
6. Don't pee on the cat!
5. Don't lick the wall.
4. Don't eat your sister's boogers.
3. No, you may NOT tie your brother to the cat & throw him in front of the dog.
2. DON'T EAT THAT SLUG!!!!
1. The blue water in the toilet is NOT kool-aid, and please do NOT put it in your sister's cup.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
A day in the life of.....
"How's your morning going?"
Ok...not so hard a question...I can answer that one. Lemme see.
Woke up with fruit loops stuck to my eyebrows. Wet, sticky, gummy fruit loops. Oh, no..pardon me...they are fruity hoops. We got generic this week. No clue why they're on my eyebrows, though. But I'm pretty certain that the 2 yr old had something to do with it.
After scraping the gooey, mushy fruity-ness off face, I stumble into the bathroom to find that the baby has painted the walls with the toilet brush. No worries, that's why God invented handywipes & sanitizer.
Off to the kitchen, where there's a brawl in progress. Seems kids 1, 3 & 4 are unsure how many packets of sugar #4 has sprinkled in her oatmeal, but they are fairly sure that it was more than 1 but less than 3. Ooookay. Note to self: Need a math lesson later.
Kid #2 tumbles down the stairs, bright & shiny. Embracing the day with eager optimism. I'm sure that's what he REALLY meant by the grumbles, growls & moans as he walked by.
Haven't seen kid #5 yet. Wonder if she's avoiding the morning chaos. Smart girl.
So by now, it's been exactly 2.4 minutes since I pried open my matted & gummy eyeballs.
I can tell it's going to be a fantastic day!
Or at least a normal one. :)
Ok...not so hard a question...I can answer that one. Lemme see.
Woke up with fruit loops stuck to my eyebrows. Wet, sticky, gummy fruit loops. Oh, no..pardon me...they are fruity hoops. We got generic this week. No clue why they're on my eyebrows, though. But I'm pretty certain that the 2 yr old had something to do with it.
After scraping the gooey, mushy fruity-ness off face, I stumble into the bathroom to find that the baby has painted the walls with the toilet brush. No worries, that's why God invented handywipes & sanitizer.
Off to the kitchen, where there's a brawl in progress. Seems kids 1, 3 & 4 are unsure how many packets of sugar #4 has sprinkled in her oatmeal, but they are fairly sure that it was more than 1 but less than 3. Ooookay. Note to self: Need a math lesson later.
Kid #2 tumbles down the stairs, bright & shiny. Embracing the day with eager optimism. I'm sure that's what he REALLY meant by the grumbles, growls & moans as he walked by.
Haven't seen kid #5 yet. Wonder if she's avoiding the morning chaos. Smart girl.
So by now, it's been exactly 2.4 minutes since I pried open my matted & gummy eyeballs.
I can tell it's going to be a fantastic day!
Or at least a normal one. :)
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