Not selling anything, just trying to save your soul

Okay....I will admit ignorance to the ways of the Mormons. The only facts that I indeed know are that young Mormon adults knock on my door to offer me a free copy of The Book of Mormon a lot, and that no matter how many times I decline, they will be back.

I respect people who feel very strongly about religion. I just really don't love it when they want to talk to me about it. I am very firm/confident in what I believe. I do believe in God. If you are worried about my soul, don't be. It was sucked out years ago to make more room for the sarcasm.

Unfortunately, people push. Like today's visitors. It isn't so much that they are pushy, more like they simply resolve to try again tomorrow. This time I made a relatively firm and straight forward request. "Thank you. I have a copy of your card. If I should change my mind about wanting to or having time to read The Book of Mormon, I will call you. Until then, please allow me to wish you the very best of luck in your lives, may God always be with you, and please let us consider this good bye." It isn't that I don't respect these young men, I am sure that their belief must be very strong, but, I am in an okay place right now in what I believe. Why is that so difficult to respect?

Also, my impressionable children are out of town so I am rocking out to music that I don't dare listen to when their ears are near, I am wearing another maternity top that makes me want to sing, "her name was Lola, she was a showgirl..." every time I pass a mirror, and frankly their perfectly shocked expressions when the lyrics blaring behind me registered in their heads made me feel like a Duggar that got caught fooling around outside of wedlock. So boys...let us hope this was good bye.

Hahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!

My mom called today. After my sister called to warn me that she was becoming unhinged. I shall cheerfully report that all is well. Here is an excerpt from our conversation.

Mom: Look, I just want to say that everything I have ever said about kids and stuff, I take it all back. I was wrong. You can write it on your calender. Also write down that unless you die, I AM NEVER TAKING THIS KID AGAIN.
Me: Rough day? I just woke up from a nap myself.
Mom: Oh my God! This kid doesn't listen. To anything I say. No matter what I threaten him with. If BB tells you that I threatened to kill him, I did. I would never do it you know, but, I did say that. He didn't care. He just smirked at me. Smirked I tell you! I felt so bad, but, I think I'm going to die. I mean, I think he is going to kill me. I asked our yardman if he has a gun, I asked him to please kill me. He wouldn't, I think I scared him. *note, this is probably what made my sister go with unhinged*
Me: Uh, where is the baby now?
Mom: Your father came home early from work and took the kids to the mall. That kid is freakishly strong. I don't know how a two year old can be so strong. I can't MAKE him do anything. You are a Saint. I don't know how you do it. I want to die. God himself would freeze him or something if he had to take care of him. A cage. A big dog cage. If something ever happened to you, I'd get a cage. One with a top.
Me: You've given a lot of thought to this I see. CPS frowns on caging children Mom. They would arrest you.
Mom: So? Then someone else would have to take care of him, right? If I'm in prison, I can't. Right?
Me: Maybe you should lie down, take a little nap. Call me if you want to send him home early. Take a break for right now though, okay?
Mom: I am so tired. I have never been this tired in my whole life. I have never had to work this hard. He is so much work. He isn't *gasp* normal, is he? Okay, I'll lay down. I love you. I love him. I am really tired though, and I haven't been able to take a shower since he got here. I'm dirty. My house is a wreck. I can't clean though. I can't leave him alone in a room long enough to clean anything, then after he goes to sleep, I'm so tired. Too tired.
Me: I know. I'll call you later.

You are wondering why I don't feel worse for my Mom, right? The answer is because she is the most judgemental person I know. I constantly listen to how she never slept when my sisters were little, because there was too much work to be done and how she never left anything for tomorrow. Then she tells me what a disaster my home is and how if I cared about my kids that I would go without sleep so they could live in a sterile environment. I also hear a lot about how her kids never had any chores, and about my expectations that the kids clean up after themselves are so unreasonable. My favorite quote came about a month ago, "He is two years old, a mere baby. You are an adult. You are the parent. If you had any idea how to be a mother at all, you would show him who is boss. He would do what you say. When you say. If not, then you have no business being a parent." Yup, it is true...my sympathy levels are a tad low.

What not to wear...maternity special

Boobs. I have them. A rather generous serving of them in fact. When I'm not pregnant, I am a 34DD. All my adult life, I have dealt with finding tops that fit. An easy solution to this is to have my clothes tailor made or altered. Unfortunately, these solutions work better if you have a large disposable income. Or, any disposable income really, we do not. In all the years of my marriage, I have either looked like Betty Boop or a female trucker.

Yesterday, I caved and drove the umpteen million miles to the only maternity boutique left in the area. I found that the boutique is nothing like the chain store that used to be at our local mall. The prices sent shivers up my spine. If you haven't heard me say before, I love Mother Earth. I really get excited to find a pair of sandals made out of bamboo or organic jeans. My enthusiasm is curbed by an organic maternity tee that is $80.00...after the 50% markdown. For $80.00 that organic tee had better come with the green equivalent of a teflon coating...because I would have to wear it every single day for the last two months of this pregnancy to almost justify the cost.

I gave up trying on clothes that I liked shortly after walking in. Instead I opted to try on clothes that I could afford. Which meant that I ended up spending $40.00 (after an additional 50% off the 75% off clearance price) on two shirts that were the right size, could be worn with a bra, and weren't neon in color. Today, since it was cool here, the high was only 78, I wore the shirt with a 3/4 sleeve.

It wasn't until some schmuck started to wolf whistle outside Wal-Mart, that I began to suspect that maybe the tunic was a tad too low cut for me. I blew it off, figuring that just maybe he didn't notice the bump because of the shopping cart. I discounted this theory and headed for the fitting room mirrors after some other jackass said," that baby is awfully little for you to be so pregnant, but, I guess I can see why."

My choices are clear. I can, continue to wear the tee shirts of years past reminding me of all my long lost friends like Jack, Jim, and Jose. I can ignore the looks of all the 'in crowd' mommies as they wonder who will care for my crack baby. Or...I can walk around with my boobs hanging out, looking like a hooker that caters to pregnancy fetishes. Got milk?

So, so sweet

A typical phone call with my Mom...

Me: H is driving me nuts. So far today he burned down our house, grilled the goldfish, and (this one is true) turned our television set into a fireworks display.
Mom: If you were to spend more time with him, and really listen to him, he would be the same angel for you that he was for me when he was here.
Me: Mom, you only had him overnight and it was the first time he had seen you since he was 5 months old.
Mom: I'm telling you he was an angel. It must be something you're doing wrong.

Today's phone call with my Mom...

Mom: You've got to help me!!! This kid is driving me crazy. I don't know what to do with him. He doesn't listen to anything I say. I tell him no, and then he kisses me and does exactly what I told him not to do. How do you stand it?
Me: Well, he is a perfect angel for me at all times. I think you should listen to him more carefully and spend better quality time with him. If you do those things, he will be the excellent, sweet, and obedient child for you that he is for me. Really, a two year old that doesn't listen...who has ever heard of such a thing?
Mom: Never fucking mind, Smart ass. *click*

Posting...not crying

Today was an excellent day.

I managed to drop BB and H off to my father (he was visiting his parents) only ten minutes late!!! For me that is one heck of an accomplishment. H didn't cry at all, he was eager to start having fun, so he hopped right into my father's car and kissed me good bye.

TLL and I stopped at the natural foods market just to see what they had going on. I found it was really difficult to concentrate on my shopping without the usual mayhem. I had coffee there though, so it wasn't like the trip was wasted. TLL got to sit in the basket of a shopping cart for the first time ever. She was totally amazed that there is a world outside of her car seat. A monster may have been born today, I'm not sure when her big bro returns, that she will go peacefully into the back of a cart again. A sign from the heavens that this was a good thing came in the form of a call from my aunt, she wanted to offer me her grandson's shopping cart cover because she isn't watching him anymore. Hells yeah, we would like to have it...thank you kindly.

TLL and I decided to head to the mall this afternoon because I was desperate for some maternity jeans. I stopped my car in the middle of a busy road to pick a really scared dog up and out of traffic. I turned around and took the dog to our home. She was wearing a collar, but, no tags. My plan was to wait until it cooled off (it was 85 plus today) and then walk her on a leash and try and find the owners. My JRT was all excited. She loves to have friends. My Chi/GSD was also excited...she loves to have dinner. I locked my demented Chi in my bedroom and left the lost dog with my JRT playing. We headed back towards the mall.

There are four large department stores at our mall and only two of them carry maternity clothes. One of the two is discontinuing maternity, so they had like one rack of clearance. I was able to find a pair of jeans for super cheap though. The other carries nothing but totally hideous maternity clothes. The last time I checked, the women buying Alfred Dunner aren't of the same general age group as expecting mothers, so why are all the prints and fabrics garish and synthetic, and look like a sampling of what you'd find at my grandmother's bridge club? Tell me retail buyers, share your insight please. Do ugly mommies make better babies? They also closed the maternity boutique at this mall. So....I guess the slow economy means that all other women are too smart to get knocked up. I guess it also means that I'll be wearing my Cuervo tee shirt in Labor & Delivery.

On the way back from the mall, I decided to cruise the neighborhoods around where I picked up the dog. The sky was threatening rain, so I didn't really want to have to take the baby out in it. Man, oh man...I got lucky! The first neighborhood I drove through was like a ghost town, I was giving up when I saw... a Mommy! Yay! I love mommies. I pulled up in her driveway and jumped out of my truck and asked if she knew of anyone looking for their dog. She started smiling and nodding and the next thing I knew, the owner's next door neighbor pulled into her driveway to follow me home and collect the dog. Miracles do happen people. They do. I am so happy that the dog was reunited with her owner, and that I didn't have to face any difficult decisions about what to do with her. It is possible, although I am showing great restraint these days, that there is a finite number of stray animals that you can take into your home against your spouse's will before divorce results. I am trying not to push my luck. The thing is, that if I had to choose between my animals and my husband, it would be a really hard decision. I think my husband loves me enough to know that and he tries to understand my attachment to fur, poop, and dander.

After the dog left, I called my husband to let him know that the dog was already on her way back to her home. He, I must say, was proud of me. His initial reaction to the situation was, "just run the f#*king dog over, you aren't keeping it, it isn't your problem." After the dog was gone though, he told me he was proud of me, for both saving the dog and for getting it back out of his house before he saw it. I was cheerful, but also hungry. I decided that it was a good time to head out to...Whole Foods,...for dinner. Those people know I have no life. I'm okay with that though. I ate dinner there and TLL enjoyed all the attention she got.

I am typing this meaningless blog post (you thought I didn't realize it, huh) and missing my babies so, so, so much. My heart actually hurts. I miss my H with a vengeance. It is awful to be without him. He has been constantly with me since the day he was born (just about) he has spent the night away a couple of times, but nothing like this. TLL just went to sleep and I am lonely...WTF??? I know I made the right decision though, I talked to my Mom earlier and she was stressing H's cast and not letting him do much of anything physical. She will be a better nurse than I am, mostly because I have really enjoyed watching him play this past week. I find his eagerness to play comforting. Sitting in that hospital, I was so worried that he was going to have to get plates and need surgery, and...you get the idea.

Kisses babies...I miss you all!

Guilt, crocodile tears, and freedom

Hercules had his follow up with the Orthopedic Specialist today. I called earlier in the week to make the appointment. I was told that the doctor would be too busy to see him this week and that either Monday or Tuesday of next week would be the first available. Which was one wrong answer in a row. So, I left my name and number and requested a scheduling supervisor return my call. The week flew by, and before I realized it, it was Thursday and I hadn't heard back. I called again, and please allow me to say that the woman I spoke with was completely awful.

Bitchy Broad: Dr. X does not have any openings this week, we have spoken with the doctor and he told us that Monday or Tuesday of next week would be fine.
Me: I cannot believe that there isn't another doctor that can see my child, or that there isn't somewhere I can take my son to have x-rays done, and then one of your doctors can review them.
Bitchy Broad: What you are asking me to do is flaunt protocol. We have procedures in place designed to best care for our patients. As the patient is your child, I would think you would be more understanding of this.
Me: I truly want the best care for my son. That is why I want the x-rays done this week. If the bones are not mending correctly, I want it caught early on, so as not to cause my child any additional distress. What really bothers me is that you won't schedule the appointment with a different doctor, I never met Dr. X, my son never met Dr. X, Dr. X didn't do the procedure.
Bitchy Broad: Dr. X was the attending on duty. Do you not care about your child's continuity of care?
Me: *At this point I went ballistic. Common sense and reasoning were getting me absolutely nowhere.* "My family has an out of town funereal to attend, providing that my son is able to go. That is in and of itself a tragedy. Can you please help us to take care of our child, meet our obligations, pay our respects, and mourn?" *It is probably important to add that I was sobbing by this point. Thank you high school drama coach, I wish I could remember your name.*

Amazingly enough, we got an appointment today at ten. If I wasn't going to Hell before, I am now on the fast track. I have terrible guilt issues over this, but...I have five children with the sixth on the way. Without going to the doctor first, there was no way that I could have sent H to my Mom for a week, and I really need to start looking for a new place to rent. I need to get caught up with my own doctor appointments, I need to find the children a new pediatrician. I have so, so, so much to do and so little time. I really need this break.. Not emotionally. I am already missing my babies terribly, and they haven't even left yet. Physically though, I need to rest. Also this will be the last opportunity for me to bond with my baby, as the baby. She is only 9 months old, and I think she needs this time for just the two of us before the new baby is born even more than I do. I am sorry Bitchy Scheduling Broad, I lied to you for my own personal gain. Thank you for being so nasty and mean that it was relatively easy for me to do it.

Results:

• For now H looks good, although they want to see him back on 4/6.
• H and BB are going to visit my parents for a week.
• JB and LB just left for my Aunt's this afternoon for almost a week.
• I confessed all to the supervisor on duty today. I think that it was much easier than Confession, she seemed to find me funny.
• Now I will probably make Easter Sunday mass. Maybe even the sunrise service. Guilt...it does a Catholic good.

Personal Hygiene Day

Today was Personal Hygiene Day at school for the 5th graders. They split the boys and girls and showed a video that was supposed to be all about personal hygiene. My children came home from school to find me dressed and the babies ready to go grocery shopping. I ordered them into the car, but my 5th grader demanded five more minutes. I started getting everyone else into the car, but ducked back inside to see what was taking BB so long. I found him in the bathroom with his bag of travel size spoils from today's school lesson. He was applying deodorant to his forehead, because they did such an excellent job of explaining personal hygiene today, and because it did say antiperspirant...I mean everyone knows that your forehead sweats right?

In the car on the way to the store, my son with his flawless complexion told me that soon I would need to buy him acne medicine. I assured him that day was coming, soon in fact, if he keeps putting deodorant on his forehead.

Too funny...must share

1. My older daughter was the only girl for eight years.
2. I myself am not the most feminine woman I know. I'll read military fiction over romance novels any day. I live for the most part in jeans and tee shirts. I wear minimal make-up (this part has really changed over the years) and I tend to get along better with men than I do women.
3. My daughter is like the ultimate girly girl.

Almost six years ago now, my daughter went to visit my sister for a couple of weeks over the summer. My daughter fell in love with her Aunt who is the ultimate grown up girly girl. Before my daughter came home, my sister bought her this huge stuffed pink pony to sleep with. They even got a cake and had a birthday party for this pony. Easy to see why my sis is such a cool Aunt, no? Well, my daughter came home with Pinkie Pie.

For six years I thought that my daughter came up with the name for that pony...I mean "Pinkie Pie" sounds like the work of a three year old to me. For six years I have been making my daughter's bed, and plopping Pinkie Pie up there and shaking my head. Hating this damn pony for standing for all the reasons I have trouble relating to my daughter. Tonight I was reading the comments on another blog and someone mentioned Pinkie Pie!!! I am still laughing that this is the actual name assigned to this pink pony, by someone other than my daughter. I can't tell you how relieved I am that my daughter didn't name that damn pink monstrosity...and I can't type because I'm still laughing too hard.

Is it just me? Tell me please.

I hate school. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it...and I don't want to go!!!

Okay, I think that it might be out of my system now. God forbid my children ever catch on to my REAL feelings about their school. Mommies, if you would please be so kind as to help me out and share your thoughts with me about the following story, it would be appreciated.

Last week, my son went to his English class where he sat down and took that day's quiz, when they turn in the daily quiz, they are also supposed to turn in their homework, but my son heard his teacher say that they were going to check homework in class, so he kept it (the homework, not the quiz) at his desk. He then picked up his book and started reading as most of the other kids were still working on the quiz. Perhaps if he had stayed on task and resisted the impulse to amuse himself, he might have noticed that the rest of the class handed their homework in. When the teacher started passing the homework back to the students to check, he and another student admitted that they had kept their homework. She gave them the option of doing cafeteria duty and getting their work graded or taking a zero. My son had no idea what cafeteria duty was, and was embarrassed that the rest of the class was looking at him, waiting for him to decide, so he mumbled that he would just take a zero on the assignment. The other child chose cafeteria duty.

I was pretty unhappy about the whole incident. Truth be told, I feel like not handing in the homework was more of a conduct issue, he was reading, he wasn't on task, therefore she ought to have deducted points from his conduct grade and graded the assignment. I decided at the time to suck it up, tell him it was going to be okay, and to ask what cafeteria duty meant so that next time we/he would at least know.

Then, on Monday, he was supposed to hand in his Current Event extra credit with the rest of the class. He did so, but, as my printer decided to crap out this past weekend, I told him that I would send an email to his teacher providing the links to the articles and requesting that she let me know if she needed the printed articles because I would bring them by. I had actually intended to go by the library and print the articles out this weekend, but, dealing with my other son's broken arm and our plumbing issues prevented this from actually happening.

She responded to my email with this:
In the future it is BB's responsibility to tell you he needed the article. He stated to me that he didn't know he had to have the article, quite different than you not being able to print them out. I told the other student s that I would not except their current event extra credit without the article so it would not be fair to allow BB to get credit.
I was frankly insulted by her response. Maybe it is just me, but, is she accusing me of lying about why he didn't have the article?

So, when my son got home, I asked him what he told her. He told me that he told her that he didn't know if he was going to have to have the articles (as in what her response to me would be) and then he started to cry. Since I was pretty sure he wasn't PMSing I asked what the tears were all about. He went on to tell me that he doesn't want to talk to his teacher because he is afraid that she will make fun of him again in front of the class. When I asked him to please clarify, he explained to me that when the whole homework/cafeteria duty incident happened that she was not very nice about it, and when he decided to take the zero, she made a big deal about it in front of the class and that the whole class was laughing at him.

Okay, for me this took the whole thing up to another level. It is one thing to give my son a zero, but, discipline by public humiliation is really against my beliefs. I don't even discuss punishments in front of my non offending children at home. I dislike the "ooh...you're in trouble" and the "you're gonna get it, Mom's really mad" that I hear if I do. I realize that a teacher can't pull a student to the side 100% of the time, but, as she is in charge of the class, when the class is reacting to what is going on, I think it is her responsibility to put a stop to it, not egg the kids on like a mob. When I sent her a follow up email explaining what was going on, and what my son had said to me, I got this back:
It is BB's responsibility to have what is needed for an extra credit assignment. This is not something I am required to do but did to help out those students who were struggling. Last week several times in class I went over my expectations. I put the Current Event sheet up on the document camera and went over step by step what they were to do. I also stated that they must have the article attached. It was important for them to do this so I could assess their response to the article they read. One student even asked if I would be returning the article because he wanted to keep his. I explained that they would get everything back. It is also posted on the class web page. As I have already explained to all the students no extra credit current event will be accepted without the article attached.As to the homework assignment last week. It is part of their routine that they turn it in to the basket when they walk in. Many student were up putting it in the basket. I stated that they needed to turn in their homework and to be sure to put their name on it because 2 students in the morning class had forgotten to do this. All year long I have offered this opportunity to those who forget to turn it in or forget their name. Cafeteria clean up consists of helping the ladies wipe off tables, pick up trash , but mostly sweeping. It is something they can choose. Another student that day choose cafeteria clean up. He wasn't humiliated at all. It all comes down to being responsible. The rituals and routines in my class have remained the same all year. I know that this probably won't resolve the issue completely but in all honesty I feel that BB needs to be more responsible for his homework and assignments. We both know he is capable of better quality work than he has shown.

Of course I know that my son is capable of better work, but he has a lot going on at home. His Dad is now living 300+ miles away, he was used to seeing him for 11 years, but, now is lucky if he sees him for 4 days a month. He is getting a new sibling, which is the last thing he wants. He has a new sibling that is only 8 months old as it is. My son's life isn't without stress, at least as stress is perceived by an 11 year old. The punishment for not giving school his all is getting A's and B's and not straight A's, not his teacher's disdain. Then, there is my ongoing issue with cafeteria duty. I don't let my son sweep the floors at home, much less do I want him attempting to sweep up the muck from the cafeteria floor at the end of the lunch day. Ewww. I wouldn't want to do that. I also have a hard time believing that his teacher does not see that when he does work, even if the printer craps out, or he misunderstands what he is supposed to do with it, that by not giving him credit for it, she is giving him very little incentive to do much of anything.

Most of all, just because he is a kid, does not mean that he should not have his feelings respected. I was really disappointed that after pointing out to her that he was so embarrassed, that she didn't even try to talk to him about it.

I know that I am biased because this is my child I'm talking about, but, in the ten sets of teachers my school age children have had so far, my son's teachers are certainly not the first I haven't liked very much, but, they are the first I have felt the need to go to the administration to discuss. This is the first time that I feel like I've been beating my head against the wall since day one. Help me please bloggy pals.

How do you know you're old?

Embarrassing fact, the ring tone on my phone is Buckcherry's Crazy Bitch. I selected the ring tone based on the name alone and I figured that such a title suited me. Then I listened to the lyrics and meant to change it, but if I haven't mentioned it before...I'm very lazy.

An old friend of mine happened to hear my phone ring today, and burst out laughing. Their suggestion was, "yeah, at one time that was you, but now, I think you should go with Everclear's Volvo Driving Soccer Mom."

So...I thought it might be prudent to actually listen to the song, because I'll be damned if I remembered ever hearing it. I did. I have. I. Am. Old. Obviously, that was my friend's way of notifying me that my glory days are O-V-E-R.

My gray hair doesn't really bother me. The fine lines around my eyes aren't much of an issue. I'm not thrilled with my spider veins, but, after five (6 soon) kids I can accept them. What I'm having trouble with is feeling like I just got a pink slip dismissing me from having a life outside my kids. Ouch.

Do not wake up sleeping children

What is worse than a telemarketer? A door to door telemarketer. Really. Some guy rang my doorbell, not once, or twice, but three frigging times. A 'college student' who wants my vote...and all I have to do is buy a few magazines to give it to him. Puh-freaking-leeze.

1. When you are wearing a dress shirt and tie with a knit ski cap when it is 75 degrees outside...it shoots your credibility to shit.
2. You woke up my baby. Seconds before her older brother would have fallen asleep too. This makes you a douche bag in my book buddy.
3. My dogs are in total attack mode and you're about to mess your pants because you are so afraid of my 20lb Chihuahua. Hint: If you don't like dogs and there are barking dogs on the other side of a door...leave after the first time I don't answer the bell.

So, I wasn't very nice. I turned my back on him and said, "I don't think so, you just woke up my baby." Which was way kinder than what I was thinking. Apparently screwing me out of a nap makes me forget my manners.

My red carpet moment

An award? For me? Thanks Jen! Jen's blog is amazing because, she is amazing.

The rules, if I am reading them correctly instruct me to share seven things I love, and also tell you about seven blogs I love. I tend to be rather shy, so some of the blog authors may say, "who the hell is she?" That is okay, because they are awesome blog goddesses that must be mentioned.

Seven things that I love include,

1. White Tigers. I remember sitting for long periods of time with my Mom on the grass at the Washington Zoo waiting for the white tigers to be released from their den. If only my Mom had known then that those afternoons would one day lead to my favorite tattoo...I am sure we would have stayed home.
2. Cats. Even though mine are fighting at the moment and keep turning my printer on and off, I still love them. Foxy is my Persian and he was given to us by a man who could no longer care for him. I was warned that he wasn't a lap cat and was mostly a loner. Hah! This cat spends long periods of time making sure I inhale tufts of his fur while he purrs on my chest. He is also very handsome. Toby is the love of my life. I have been accused of loving him more than my husband and children. This isn't true, I might love him just as much though. Cats are too special.
3. Dogs. I really thought that I was more of a cat person until I adopted Molly and Patty. They are my two constant companions. I love them beyond measure.
4. Sleep. A nap, a decent night's rest, my children's naps, my children sleeping through the night, etc. No matter what form of slumber we are talking about with the exception of the eternal, it is one of my favorite things.
5. A clean house. My home is a constant battleground. I clean with all my might, my children and pets mess make with all of theirs. As I am terribly outnumbered, they tend to gain more ground as the days and years wear on. A clean house makes my heart sing. Even a clean room makes me happy, especially if I can sit down inside of it, shut the door and pretend the rest of the house matches.
6. Caffeine. I love this stuff. It is what gets me through the days that inevitably follow the sleepless nights. It can be coffee, an energy drink, or an intravenous infusion...I'm just grateful for it.
7. The Internet. Specifically the blog world. It allows me to feel connected to the happenings outside my front door without feeling obligated to put on make-up to participate. I consider it practice interaction with others, necessary for the preservation of my social skills so that one day I might be able to have in real life friends again.

Seven blogs that I love and am thrilled to pass on this award to are,

1. Monica's blog. Monica has five children, a great sense of humor, and lots of compassion. Her comments always make me laugh or give me courage. Her blog posts range from wet your pants funny to serious and introspective. She is quite a lady. A kindred spirit, if you will, I feel it in my bones.
2. KP over at Ventalicious. Her blog is a more recent find, but she is so real and hilarious to boot. I really enjoy checking in to see what she has going on.
3. Autismomma's blog. She is doing a magnificent job of rising to the challenges of raising her children. Her son is Autistic, but she isn't letting that define him or her family. She strives to provide the best diet possible for her children...and I really respect that.
4. Jude over at Just Teeth. She is a warm person who has gone out of her way to make me feel welcome over at her blog. She touches my heart, and from the way she describes her mother, I often wonder if we aren't sisters.
5. Sammanthia's blog. She is ever so funny and a fabulous mom to her boys. I went through a serious withdrawal when her corner of the world was inundated with ice that took away her power and internet for a couple of weeks.
6. Suburban Correspondent over at The More, the Messier. She is another *big time* blog success. She is a mother of six whose personality shines through on the pages of her blog. A lady that offers thoughtful comments, and gives me, as a soon to be Mom of six, hope for my continued sanity (such as it is) in the future.
7. Everyday Superhero's blog. I love reading about what her four boys are up to. She is an amazing Mommy, with terrific kids, a fabulous marriage, and a super sense of humor. It takes one hell of a woman to achieve what she has and continues to do, I have much respect and admiration for her.

Choices

So, here are my choices...

• I can begin paying my 11 year old to continue to live with me, a bargain at $5.00 a day.
• I can buy him a new scooter, more memory cards for his camera, a plethora of lithium batteries (also for camera) and pay him $2.50 a day.
• I can send him to live with my parents who will treat him so much better than we do.

Today, after much procrastination (on my part) Hubby and I finally told him that he was going to be a big brother again. There were tears and threats. A few tantrums were thrown. Lots of teen (and yes he is only 11, so WTH) angst was displayed...it was all very traumatic and exhausting.

The count for the weekend is stellar. I have one toddler with two broken bones. I have one 11 year old who claims that I am ruining his life, and one husband who claims that I am ruining both their lives. F*%king swell.

Too much information

While I have already shared the punch line, now I am going to bore you with the nitty gritty details. I was talking to my husband on the phone and trying to follow his toilet unclogging advice to the letter. After banishing my boys to the outdoors (seriously I didn't think I could stand to hear them say "coooool" one more time while I was trying to ignore my gag reflex) I continued probing my toilet with a wire hanger. All of a sudden the water in the toilet bowl started rising so I panicked and started to siphon out the water. Then I heard a loud whoosh, I ran out of my bathroom and into my children's bathroom. There I found water pouring out of the toilet bowl and onto the floor. Please note that their toilet has never worked and the water has been shut off for close to two years now. A loud and unpleasant meow from downstairs indicated that I had more problems. Sure enough, a pissed Persian with wet paws and water streaming out from underneath the downstairs bathroom's door confirmed my suspicions. Before I could have a panic attack or start to cry I heard my son scream...a bloodcurdling mind emptying scream.

I flew outside to find Hercules on the patio, ball at his feet, crying. I knew, before I picked him up, I knew. I scooped him up and tried to comfort him, but, I knew. I tried to lie to myself when he calmed down for a moment, but, the entire time I knew. His left arm was broken. In my heart I already knew this. My older boys kept trying to tell me how he tripped over the ball, but it was just a buzz in my ears as the panic took over. I called my husband and told him to start driving now. I grabbed the baby, the diaper bag, and my car keys. In a feat that I could probably only repeat if the house were burning down, I picked up the bag, my 23lb daughter in her car seat, and my 50lb toddler and carried them all to the car. I yelled for my boys to get in the truck (daughter was spending the night with BFF) and I made haste for the nearest urgent care center.

Again, I carried the baby and Hercules inside and ponied up my insurance card (thank God that after a year without, we once again joined the insured last month) and my available cash. We were shown into a room where the doctor took one look at his arm and declared a fracture and told me that I needed to head 25+ miles downtown to the children's hospital. I was already on an adrenaline high, so I demanded that if they weren't going to do a damn thing to at least make my son more comfortable, weren't going to x-ray it, that they give me my money back. The doctor then suggested that they put on a pressure splint to alleviate some of the pain, take x-rays so that the hospital could review them, and even gave the child a dose of Motrin. After the films were done, the doctor suggested that I find something to do with my other kids because it was going to be a long night. Hercules had broken two bones in his left arm (future money making, NFL class quarterback arm) and that he wasn't sure that the orthopedic specialist would be able to set it.

I called my Aunt, who was three sheets to the wind, but, she called my Grandparents who agreed to help. I drove to their house (in the dark even) and my Grandmother (mom to 8) informed me that she would be driving to the hospital and that my Grandfather and my other Aunt would be keeping the other three children. *Thank God for my Grandparents last night. I don't know what I would have done without them. My son broke his arm around six and we didn't get home until almost two this morning.* I was pretty happy with this arrangement, while this was the first injury in my decade plus as a Mommy that required medical intervention (seriously no stitches, dislocations, sprains or breaks) my Grandmother has tended to literally dozens of broken bones when her children were children.

I cried. Nearly nonstop, I cried. More than my son. I just couldn't stop. I was so worried about him. I also felt like the world's biggest parenting failure. Night blind, terrified to drive, completely inept to deal with ouchies, anxiety ridden, hormonally challenged, pathetic excuse for a mother. I couldn't help wondering what would have happened if my Grandparents hadn't been there. The possibilities scared the crap out of me.

When they finally showed us to a room, the doctor assured me that they would be able to set his arm, then in the same breath told me they would have to put him to sleep. OMG. Panic attack (pardon me doc...any Xanax at a Kiddy Hospital) commenced and I watched as they put an IV in my son's arm and put him to sleep. After the longest half hour (including when I was in naturally delivering that same nine pound wonder) in my life, I was allowed back in his room and we got to go home.

My Grandmother stopped at their house and we got my baby girl and then she dropped us off at home where my husband was waiting. I was so glad to see him...until my Grandmother left. Then after tenderly carrying my son to bed, Hubby exhausted himself complaining about the state of the house. Eventually, I slept.

This morning Hubby got up and started Operation Bitch, Piss, Moan, Plunge. After retrieving several feet of chain link from our toilet (we so didn't own any of this, so it can't be blamed on my kids) miraculously the water started to go down in all the bathrooms. Suddenly...we could flush! Then the bathroom cleaning/carpet cleaning/tub and tile cleaning was underway. I sat back and watched as much as possible.

Tonight we are able to flush. We can also walk on the bathroom floors without fear of contamination. Hercules is playing. He is mostly cheerful. Still awake and behaving badly at the moment. He is aware of his parents renewed patience and unwillingness to punish him in light of his "new arm band-aid" and while he may not be throwing things with much accuracy, he is happily pushing boundaries in other ways.

Hubby isn't just grumpy, he is downright mean. I still feel like the biggest Mommy failure in the world. I am hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.

Just...oh shit

All of my toilets started gushing water out onto the floors of my home at the same time. I stopped bailing when my two year old tripped over his ball and fell. He broke two bones in his left arm. I am exhausted and distraught. We just got home from the E.R. My husband drove up to help, but has spent the last twenty minutes yelling at me because the house is a disaster.

Will try to write tomorrow. Good night.

Monster vs. Mommy

Last night, waaaaaayyyyyyy past bedtime, Hercules hopped out of bed and attempted to kill our fish. Again. I have a true affinity for this fish. He is the consummate survivor. In the past year that he has been with us his tank mate has perished, he has been on the carpet twice, he has had his environment contaminated by foreign objects more often than Elmo's Dorothy, and last night his tank was inundated with pieces of broken porcelain, an alarm clock (battery operated) and a cover for a nightlight. I performed some emergency tank maintenance and today he seems okay. Score: Monster 0, Mommy 1

This morning Hercules slid off the sofa, hit the glass top of my coffee table, and pushed the glass entirely off the base...it hit the floor. I now believe the manufacturers when they say shatterproof, that thing hit the tile and didn't break. Miracle? You betcha. Second miracle in six month pregnant Mommy picking up the 100lb+ glass top and securing it back to the base. Score: Monster 0, Mommy 2

I went outside to bring the trashcans and recycle bins up from the curb, Hercules locked the deadbolt. My car keys (which I lose constantly) were inside my pocket. This is actually by the laws of probability a greater miracle than the intact glass. I can lose my car keys for days and even when they aren't lost I rarely know where they are. Score: Monster 0, Mommy 3

While I would like to believe that the stars are aligning to bring me luck after the ongoing toilet disaster...I know my son loathes losing. Tonight he will dream dreams inspired by the only full length movie he has ever sat down to watch, Home Alone, and tomorrow our epic battle will start anew.

Relatively random ramblings

• BB's long lost digital camera has been found. It was buried in an old sneaker in the back of his closet. When I returned it to him and told him where I found it...he said something along the lines of, "Oh yeah, I remember now."
• My son's math GPA went up a full grade today. Something about skipping a student when entering grades into the computer. Glad we pointed it out...sigh
• The second email his teacher replied to today was simply a cut and paste of my response to her. I am starting to suspect that she is even less computer literate than I am...and wondering if that isn't the root of many of the problems I feel like we're having with her.
• My Grandparents are *dropping by* tomorrow for a visit. I guess you only have to open the door practically naked once before they take the hint and start giving you notice.
• My toilet...still isn't working. The good news is that the mess is confined to the toilet. I have no idea what to do about it either. Planning on emptying a few bottles of something like Liquid Plumber to see if that will help.
• I have now gone through three plungers. Lucky number four?
• My dishwasher is making funny noises. I think it is protesting the multiple loads it has done since the upstairs toilet leaked into the dish cabinet.
• I have given up messing with the stove. I think I'm going to buy an induction hot plate. I doubt that it will make me look any more like Kelly Ripa...but I'm not paying to get my landlord's stove fixed.
• Because of the stove issue, tonight's dinner was comprised of frozen waffles, assorted fruit, microwaved eggs, and ice cream for dessert.

She's gonna make me batshit crazy!!!

Hi, BB did show me a mistake on his progress report in math which I have corrected. Thanks. I don't have any breaks today. Please e-mail me with your concerns today, and I will answer them as quickly as possible.

The above is the first reply to an email I have sent my son's teacher this nine weeks. The grading period ends on Friday. I got a 2nd Progress Report from her yesterday. It shows two zeroes from the first week of February, one zero on a test last week, and one 40 on a test the following day. Keep in mind that the two zeroes from February were not on the list of work we just completed. How do you give a test and then not get a test paper back from all students? On the fifth grade level? Please tell me someone. I believe that the 40 was the mistake she is referring to, at least I hope it is.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Happy St. Patty's Day!

Looks like he's having fun...right?

Toby loves me more...he isn't about to attack.


The whole crew.

I gave up on trying to get them all to look at the camera.

I love St. Patty's Day!!! My Grandfather is a teeny tiny bit Irish, and he always makes a big deal out of St. Patty's Day. I thought it was so much fun when I was little, and I hope my babies all had a fun day!

Fecal matters

Hercules flushed an entire roll of toilet paper at one time. As a result my toilet exploded. There was water everywhere including but not limited to the master bath, the carpet in my bedroom, and as an added bonus...in my dish cabinet that apparently is directly underneath the master bath. I noticed the last one only after streams of water started flowing out of the cabinet doors and onto our breakfast bar and floor.

My children got home from school after I had cleaned up the mess once, and LB promptly forgot about my warning to not use my bathroom...so now...there is poop and water everywhere. Lucky Mommy that I am.

Oh, and I have been fighting the good fight and waiting patiently for the landlord to take a look at the two burners on my stove that aren't working...well, today the last two burners went out.

Please allow me to assess the current situation...I am down to one out of three toilets in working order. I have broken two plungers in my three hours of vigorous plunging activities. There is a lovely mixture of poop and water on both levels of our home. I cannot fix dinner for the kids because my stove doesn't work (this statement also applies to sterilizing baby bottles as well) and even if I could fix dinner I don't know what the hell I'd serve it on because all of my dishes have spent the day swimming in sewage.

I had to go and say that I was feeling optimistic yesterday, didn't I?

Oh, by the way...

This weekend was wonderful. Really and truly. Hubby and I had my stepson come over Saturday to hang out with the children while we went off and just enjoyed being with each other. We had lunch at Ruby Tuesday's, which I love because they have something called a Ruby T, which is a mixture of pomegranate juice and iced tea, that they serve with free refills. Yum. Then we went to our local (very nifty) outdoor mall where Hubby took advantage of American Eagle's tee shirt sale and I lost myself in the bookstore. We enjoyed a cup of coffee on a bench by the turtle pond and talked about how cute the kids playing around us were...or possibly how much cuter our kids are. It was an awesome day!

Today we took the kids to the mall to walk around and have lunch. Then it was off to Costco (such a love/hate relationship there) where I picked up cheap frozen yogurt on the way out for the children. We dropped our shopping off at home and headed for the park. The kids had a good time burning off some energy and we enjoyed watching them. I needed to run into Target on the way home and...we pulled into the parking lot to find LOTS of people just staring at the sky. We got to join them and see the launch of the space shuttle Discovery. Very Cool. We even got pictures! Talk about a perfect ending to a fantastic weekend.

Oh, and Hubby decided that he was ready and able to come to terms with baby number six. Whew. I was starting to get worried. We will be welcoming a new little person sometime in June...probably June...not sure yet...still trying to get a definitive kind of date. Tonight, right now, I am feeling happy and content. Dare I say optimistic? Soon...maybe tomorrow, you will probably hear the negative and an outpouring of fears and anxiety. Mood swings, ya know? Right now however, I am going to say a reluctant goodbye to Hubby and go to bed with happy thoughts of six children...half under three...dancing in my head.

Nice to be missed

Today Hubby and I went out to paint the town (not really, details forthcoming) and when we got home...my son, BB, had changed the screen saver on my computer, it now flashes, "My Mom is a Nazi," in a beautiful script with little smears of blood accentuating Nazi. So nice to be loved.

Do you think I'm Superman?

Okay...so my husband is coming home this weekend (maybe) and here is the phone conversation we had about his visit.

Me: So, you filled out the p/w so that you can leave early on Friday, right?
Hubby: No. I forgot. I used the comp time as O/T though.
Me: What?
Hubby: Next time I'll remember.
Me: So, what time are you going to be home on Friday?
H: Probably like six or seven, I can still leave a little early.
Me: That isn't too bad. I just don't want you to come for a day and a half and you be too tired to spend any time with me or the kids and everyone is miserable again. Like the last time.
H: Well, I wouldn't be so tired if you gave me more of a chance to relax when I'm home. Do you realize that I went to bed at midnight last time? Did you forget that I had to put both the little ones to sleep? Then I woke up twice during the night with the baby. If you don't help me more with the kids, there is no way that I can do anything. I'll be too tired. It is too hard to get up with the baby and then get up with the kids in the morning. Do you think I'm Superman or something?
Me: (complete and total dumbfounded silence...shocked that anyone could be this stupid)

I just talked to Hubby again, and now he is telling me that he'll have to work late tonight. Which will put him here sometime in the wee morning hours. If he comes. Frankly, I won't miss him too much if he doesn't make it. I'll probably be too busy relaxing and letting the nanny tend to the children. Maybe I should just send the older ones to boarding school.

When YOU don't like the BFF

What do you do when you can't stand your child's best friend? My daughter has a best friend that we'll call Diva. I really don't like this little girl. I have had her over to the house a couple of times to play and I took the girls to a movie. Each time she has been in close proximity to me, I have struggled to be nice to her. I feel bad saying this because I know I grew up as one, but this child is a pampered princess.

Her mother often invites JB to sleepover, or go to the mall, and over to play. At some point, I talked to Diva's mom and explained that with all my children, I just couldn't handle having one more. Diva's mom was really nice (super hard to understand) and said it was no big deal because they love having JB and of course how well behaved she is. I was secretly sad that this wasn't going to turn into an in school only friendship.

Then, my daughter came home sad one day because Diva had informed her that they were no longer best friends. Diva was now the best friend of the girl who had not invited Diva to her party which JB boycotted because her BFF wasn't going to be there. That was the day that I took the kids to the movies coincidentally. Whatever...kids will be kids...and all of that. I comforted JB the best I could.

Last weekend JB insisted on spending her allowance to get Diva a new pair of earrings at the mall. I like to encourage selfless giving so I let this slide. Tonight, JB wanted to drop one of the cookies she decorated at the Kids in the Kitchen class at our Whole Foods, off to Diva on our way home. I acquiesced and was treated to the rare occasion when Diva remembered to say 'thank you' and she even hugged JB.

I am however left to wonder somewhat quietly if JB isn't trying to buy Diva's friendship. Maybe I am just being paranoid, but, my Mommy Sense is tingling. What do you do when you don't like your children's friends?

Senility maybe?

My mother is crazy. I really am starting to believe it is true. About a month ago we were on the phone when a little boy laid his bicycle down on her grass to get his ball that he had dropped. She turned into the Psycho Grandma, she ran outside and started yelling at this kid. She wanted to know if his bike had a kickstand and why he wasn't using it. Then she told him that if his ball ever rolled into her yard again, she wanted him to ring the doorbell and IF it was a convenient time she would get his ball for him. If. She was so mean to this kid that I kept thinking about what I would do if someone yelled at one of mine like that. When she finally got back on the phone, I told her that I thought she was WAY out of control and out of touch with the world. I also suggested that she find the time to go apologize to this child and his parents...she was that awful.

Then a couple of weeks ago someone called and woke her up from her nap, they wanted her to make a donation to the Fraternal Order of Police. She was outraged and called the police non emergency number (I hope) and demanded to speak to someone in charge of the fundraiser. When the officer explained that the people making the calls were actually telemarketers, she instead took the opportunity to complain about the way the police officers in her neighborhood drive. She by her own report talked to this guy for almost an hour about the many incidents when she saw a police officer either driving badly or failing to pull over another car that was driving badly. Not that she could provide vehicle numbers...but she just thought they should know.

Today, we were on the phone when she clicked over to take another call, my policy is count to 30, if I'm still waiting, I hang up. She called me back an hour later claiming she had just hung up the phone with someone from Peru who called on behalf of Capital One. Turns out they called to ask her to make a payment today because the last payment she sent in was a dollar shy of what it should have been and her account was in default. As opposed to actually dealing with the problem, she went ape shit on this phone rep about how the state of the economy was all Capital One's fault because they outsource their jobs to Peru. Can you imagine what the person on the other end of the phone was thinking? I mean really?

When my mother does stuff like this and then tells me about it, like it is perfectly rational behavior, it really scares me. Last summer, my sons came home talking about how Grandma opened two boxes of dryer sheets and stuffed as many as she could fit in the box she was buying. I called to remind her what shoplifting was and to ask that she please not involve my children as accomplices. She was dumbfounded about why I was upset. She kept telling me that everyone does that because they never fill the boxes all the way at the factory. Is it really possible that she believes that?

Ugh!

Thanks Sunshine State!

Today begins four days of the Florida Comprehensive Assessment Test for my older two. I would just like to thank the lovely state of Florida for making it a requirement for advancement that a student must 'pass' the FCAT...and then setting the students of our state up for success by scheduling the test on the first week after DST began.

Don't read this...I'll just confuse you

Okay, I've been noticing that several of my favorite blog goddesses are having trouble coming up with things to write about. I so cannot relate right now. I have more things to say than I can coherently unravel from my jumbled mind. The problem with everything that is swirling around inside my brain is that much of what is plaguing me is a small detail of a larger problem. Therefore I have been refraining from trying to put words to what is bothering me, but, I think my head may just explode if I don't, so I'm going to try. To avoid confusion (yours) and embarrassment (mine) if you are reading this you may wish to tune out now.

It was brought to my attention in a rather abrupt way, like while doing 70mph and trying to merge from one interstate to another, that EVERYTHING I own is broken and only half works, which is a constant source of frustration and stress for me. The bad ignition switch in my truck is a fine and rather expensive example. The steamer I used to clean my kids' carpet this weekend is another. The handle falls off, so in order to dispense the shampoo, the operator must exert ten times the amount of effort that is supposed to be necessary to use it. The modem for my computer is a third. While my stepson was watching the kids the other weekend, their wrestling match apparently ended with someone hitting the computer desk. The modem fell, broke, whatever. Instead of telling me, they hit the a/c adaptor with a hammer got it working and left me wondering why my connection was so crappy until guilt got the better of BB and he confessed. These are three examples of a trend in my life. Shit breaks, but, then...it doesn't get fixed because it is by itself a small annoyance, a barely perceptible time/energy suck. However, when EVERYTHING in your life is in this same state of not BROKEN but not right limbo...the combination is overwhelming and defeating. Like you cry because your can opener has to be jerry-rigged back together after each and every can you open. Worth tears? No. If anyone else has been there, they probably know what I mean though.

BB's never ending, ongoing saga of slacking off at school. I am so tired of being tired of dealing with teachers/admin/guidance counselors/etc and begging for them to help me stay on top of him so he doesn't fall behind. He has two teachers. One teacher was concerned with his absences (this cold/flu season has so been hell) because she has already been fighting to get him to keep up with his work. She contacted me, with her sitting on BB at school and me cracking the whip at home, we got him 100% caught up in two days. Whew! The other teacher sent home a list of what he hasn't done for the last six weeks. OMG!!! The vast majority of it was classwork from when he was PRESENT. It took us five days of me neglecting the other kids and my home and him crying and begging for mercy...with us working non stop to get his work done. Excuse me, but, what the hell is she doing in school when he isn't working? Six weeks worth of shit. Really.

My parents. I love my parents. My kids love my parents. There is however a total lack of understanding between us. The biggest issue is BB. I hate the way they interfere with BB. I ground him from games, they send him a new one. They even sent it to Nana's house so she would give it to him and I wouldn't censor it straight from the mailbox. They tell him that he can come visit over the school holiday if he does all of his work and doesn't fall behind...they told him this to motivate him (or so they tell me)...of course, now that he has fallen behind they want to amend that agreement to 'brings his grades up' before the break. Then, they fail to understand why I ask them not to help. Number one, it is ultimately my decision if he goes or not. Therefore, it is not terribly practical to make promises on my behalf to try and force my arm on the issue. Number two, if you tell him that blank is the reward for good behavior and blank is the consequence of bad behavior, and then you always alter your expectations so that he can get the reward...he learns nothing...and we all look like idiots in my son's eyes. When I try explaining this to them...well that really will fill a whole post. So, for now I'll just say that break starts at the end of the month. They want him to come, and my mother is particularly persistent because of her health in wanting him to go. On one hand I would be devastated if something happened to my mom and I was the reason they couldn't share one last visit, on the other, she has without exaggeration on my part, been telling me for 25 years that she was dying. It is kind of hard to take her seriously when she adds, "for real this time," at least twice a year.

My kids are total slackers. I am a total slacker at heart. If all five kids produce laundry, make messes, and need to be fed...and I am only one person washing, cleaning, and cooking...mathematically it is impossible for me to keep up with all of their needs if they aren't doing their part. The reality is that I am totally stressed and tired out. I require my kids to pick up their own toys, walk the dogs twice a day, put their dirty laundry in the hamper, pour dog and cat food into bowls, and listen to me. They on the other hand bitch and moan to my parents who call me and say things like, "expecting an 11 year to hold a baby while you do whatever is child abuse you know." Riiiight...must have been why I was babysitting at 11. Frankly, I see nothing wrong with my 11 year old, who is my size, holding his sister so that I can pull a pan out of the oven. Beats the hell out of me burning the baby and all of us skipping dinner in favor of a trip to the emergency room. I also see nothing wrong with the kids cleaning up after themselves. I was an *only child* my half sisters had already moved out before I was born. So, I guess as a SAHM to one, my mother could do all the work and live to tell the tale. I have five, at least for now, and I cannot wipe their tushes for them and spend all day following them around with paper towels, a spray bottle, and a trash bag. The kids have to pull their own weight. When I point this out to my mother, she loves to tell me that *I was the the one to have five kids* and of course she is right. One of the reasons I have a big family, was that my growing up years were great, but, I was always jealous of my dad and his brothers and sisters (he is one of 8) at family gatherings. I want my kids to know what it is like to be part of a big family, and I want them to learn to do things for themselves. One of the reasons I am such a sucktastic housekeeper is because I never had to do anything for myself (like ever honestly) and frankly it is a real bummer to clean up after myself. I don't want my kids to grow up with that attitude, it is darn hard to overcome, and I'll let you know if I ever do. I was also a pretty lonely kid, but I am surely not a lonely Mommy. I would never go back and do it any other way. I like my family and being 'the Mama' to these awesome kids too much to change anything...but, I would love to have them help more with chores. I can have both right? It is okay to love my family, but still see room for improvement...right?

Okay, I think I feel better. At least I feel more cheerful and am actually thinking about cleaning out my lame duck truck and letting my H and TLL soak up some sun while I do it.

Oh, the thinks they can think...Final Episode

Just for the heck of it, I added what I thought their answers would have been in blue...live and learn. Here are BB's answers.

1. What is something mom always says to you?
Play as many video games you can.
I love you!
2. What makes mom happy?
The idea of winning the lottery and hiring a housekeeper.
Actually, this one did make me very happy.
3. What makes mom sad?
When Hercules tries to destroy the house.
When Daddy leaves.
4. How does your mom make you laugh?
I'm not really sure how you make me laugh.
Making funny faces.
5. What was your mom like as a child?
Getting smacked in the back of the head a lot.
Spoiled.
6. How old is your mom?
28?
28.
7. How tall is your mom?
About maybe 5'2"
5'6"
8. What is her favorite thing to do?
Spend time with us.
Absolutely right, with napping as a close second.
9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
Watch H and TLL and go shopping.
Clean.
10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
Holding the world record for doing the most laundry.
Being your mother.
11. What is your mom really good at?
Shopping.
Reading. I really hate to shop.
12. What is your mom not very good at?
Cleaning the bathroom.
He is right, though I would have thought they would have gone with math/science.
13. What does your mom do for her job?
You don't have a job.
Take care of us.
14. What is your mom's favorite food?
Tijuana Flats.
Dessert, never met one I didn't like, except maybe Tapioca.
15. What makes you proud of your mom?
What makes me proud of you, is that you are the best Mom.
When she has all of our clothes, shoes, book bags, and papers laid out when we wake up.
16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Ewww. I can't figure that out. Oh wait...you can be Wanda from Fairly Odd Parents, cause you're mean and you nag.
The Mom from The Incredibles.
17. What do you and your mom do together?
We go to the movies.
Play.
18. How are you and your mom the same?
We both like chocolate.
We are both LAZY.
19. How are you and your mom different?
We like to do different things.
She isn't computer smart.
20. How do you know your mom loves you?
Because you tell me you love me.
Because she is strict.
21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
Whole Foods.
To take a nap.

Random snippets of life

• The radio cut out in my truck yesterday, it wasn't long before I realized that it applied to my lights and turning signal as well. Pretty much a total electrical failure...goody!!! For those of you who don't already know, I have massive panic attacks if I try to drive more than a mile in any direction...let us just say that this pretty much didn't help the situation. I leaped out of my truck as soon as we got home pretty much the same way as I would have the snake infested airplane in that movie.
• I realize that everyone lost an hour last night, but, I lost more like six.
• I am still reeling from my 11 year old running around my kitchen with my cell phone threatening to call (not sure who exactly) and report me for child abuse because I wouldn't let the kids have soda with dinner and instead served lemonade. I think the best part would have been his audible for blocks shriek of, "it is illegal to withhold food from your kids, I am going to report you!"
• I bought a seven dollar bottle of *green* bubble bath that doesn't make any bubbles.
• My cat just threw up a hairball on my tile, the hacking involved in getting the hairball out caused him to wet my floor...which I just scrubbed yesterday with a deck brush to get the grout semi-clean. I hope the cat is okay...and that he runs away and hides so I don't kill him.
• The baby is awake again...let's not forget that this would have been 4:23 yesterday morning.
• I just realized that I forgot to bring the water in last night when we got home from Costco. So, it is probably still sitting on my porch where I left it.

If I don't die from having had someone poison my water supply, I will reassess in about 12 hours...maybe things will be looking up.

Oh, the thinks they can think..Part II

Unfortunately, the attitude has begun early with this one. There was much sighing and eye rolling, nevertheless these are JB's answers.

1. What is something mom always says to you?
Clean your room.
2. What makes mom happy?
When we do what she says.
3. What makes mom sad?
When I get bad grades.
4. How does your mom make you laugh?
IDK.
5. What was your mom like as a child?
IDK that either.
6. How old is your mom?
28?
7. How tall is your mom?
Five feet.
8. What is her favorite thing to do?
Spend money.
9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
Take care of everybody else.
10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
Hmmmm...ummm...IDK.
11. What is your mom really good at?
Cooking.
12. What is your mom not very good at?
IDK.
13. What does your mom do for her job ?
Take care of TLL and H.
14. What is your mom's favorite food?
Tijuana Flats.
15. What makes you proud of your mom?
When...uhh...she gives us treats like going out for ice cream.
16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Wanda.
17. What do you and your mom do together?
We go shopping together.
18. How are you and your mom the same?
IDK.
19. How are you and your mom different?
You like to spend money and I like to save money.
20. How do you know your mom loves you?
Cause she always says she loves me.
21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
To go like shopping or something?

Oh, the thinks they can think

This comes from an amazing blog and I have decided to post my older children's answers in three parts. The first victim of my scheme was LB and here is what he had to say about me.

1. What is something mom always says to you?
Clean your room.
2. What makes mom happy?
If the house gets clean.
3. What makes mom sad?
If a cat dies.
4. How does your mom make you laugh?
When she loses her car keys.
5. What was your mom like as a child?
IDK. I wasn't back there.
6. How old is your mom?
Let me see...about...let's see...65?
7. How tall is your mom?
About...um...IDK. About 50 inches long.
8. What is her favorite thing to do?
Shop.
9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
Watch H and TLL.
10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
Um...umm...being rich.
11. What is your mom really good at?
Something you're really good at huh? Shopping.
12. What is your mom not very good at?
Walking the dogs.
13. What does your mom do for her job ?
Watch H and TLL.
14. What is your mom's favorite food?
Apple.
15. What makes you proud of your mom?
Um. *Scratching chin* Watching H and TLL.
16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Mr. Krabs.
17. What do you and your mom do together?
Do you know what that is? That's shopping.
18. How are you and your mom the same?
We got both the same skin color.
19. How are you and your mom different?
I'm a boy. You're a girl.
20. How do you know your mom loves you?
I don't know?
21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
Whole Foods.

Guilt

At roughly 1:30 this morning someone was pounding on my door. It woke up the dogs that started barking, and of course the baby. I looked out of my peephole, and I saw that there was someone on my porch, but, my motion sensor porch light was not lit even though it was on, and all I could tell was that the person was wearing a sweatshirt with the hood drawn up around their head.

I didn't answer the door. I didn't even ask who it was. I figured that if it WAS someone up to no good, the last thing I should do was tip them off that I was a woman. I looked outside my window later and began to wonder if my next door neighbor hadn't locked herself out of the house. Of course, she has my phone number, and I would think that she would have called me...but, I'm not sure.

Did I do the right thing? What should I have done? What would you have done?

More Tales from Florida Public Schools

Yesterday was Read Across America Day. I celebrated this great event by participating as a guest reader in my son's first grade classroom. It was while I was at the school participating in this great event that my eldest son (who attends the same school) fell ill. The school was unable to reach me by phone to inform me that BB was sick. It also apparently went unnoticed that I was ALREADY on school grounds. So, my son sat in the clinic for three hours. I read to my son's first grade class, I talked to his teacher, I tried to keep H from reducing the school to a pile of rubble and slalomed with the double stroller through the halls to avoid adorable germ infested children breathing on TLL. All of this transpired while BB was camped out in the clinic.

Shortly before the end of the school day, I headed to the main office to sign myself and the children out. I decided that after having my 6 year old pick out the one and only Dr. Seuss book I had never seen before for me to read to his class, I deserved some ice cream, and I was going to take the kids home with me (they usually ride the bus) and stop at our favorite gelato place on the way. The SAME woman who checked me in, informed me that my oldest son had spent the entire day in the clinic and had been picked up moments before by his uncle. WHAT????

This woman then proceeded to actually chastise me because they did not have a current number on file for me. I was rather politely incredulous because the clinic calls me ALL THE TIME to pick up my hypochondriac daughter. When I pointed this out, they were good enough to look at the contact information cards, which had been updated for my daughter, but not for my sons. Why not for the boys? I guess someone at the office dropped the ball. This woman even told me that she had called EVERYONE on the contact list several times and left many messages. Not true. NOT TRUE. I have listed ten people that can and will pick up my children in the event of an emergency. They called the first two, and then waited for a return phone call. For THREE hours!

The clinic/office didn't check his brother or sister's cards. They didn't ask my son's teacher for my number. They didn't ask LB or JB if they knew my number. They didn't call everyone on the call list. If they had, they would have found that my Grandparents were home, my aunt was at home, my stepson was home, etc. Any of those people could have given them my new cell number, even though it wouldn't have done any good because it doesn't work inside the school. All of those people knew that I was going to be at the school yesterday and they could have suggested that they try the loudspeaker. I know that the school never tried any of these people because I called them and asked. I asked them to please check their messages and their caller id's. They all reported back that no the school hadn't called, yes they were home all day, yes they checked their messages, and yes they checked their caller id...no school.

What was the kicker? When I asked which uncle picked him up...they couldn't tell me. They misplaced the card and so they couldn't have the uncle sign him out. In fact, they had no way of knowing if he was even authorized to pick my son up. I mean really? Really?

I simply cannot wait for the principal to get around to returning my phone call this morning.

From the ashes of our weekend

This past weekend was a Daddy Weekend at our house, meaning that my husband was home for one of the two weekends a month that we get to spend with him. Saturday, was an unmitigated disaster. Sunday, was a huge improvement, but the short time frame meant that to get anything done, we had to go without sleep last night and rush around like mad to get him back on the road in time. One of the better things that happened over the weekend was that I think I was finally able to impress upon our Daddy how important these weekends are to the children and me. I am hopeful that he has a better understanding of what we need from him when he is home. The path to enlightenment was a rocky one though.

Saturday morning started with me getting (or taking) the opportunity to sleep in. I was really wearing my best game face when I made it downstairs to find that Daddy had fed the children potato chips for breakfast. They weren't poison potato chips, so I knew that the kids would live to suffer through whole grain toast and fruit another day. What I couldn't let slide was the yelling from Daddy about how he had only been home for 10 hours, and the children were already making him crazy. I know that my husband blows up and then things blow over...but when he is already living 350 miles away from us, I think he should be a little extra careful not to give our kids reason to think that it is somehow their fault.

Then Saturday night, he had a little temper tantrum...something about how God must be punishing him because he is still changing diapers after 20 years. So, Sunday I implored my aforementioned 20 year old stepson to come hang out with the kids so Hubby and I could get out of the house and talk. It was a good day and a good talk. He is willing to try a little harder to keep his cool when he is home. He also suggested that I plan something for the weekends he is home, and he will get with the game and participate, and at least pretend to have fun.

Ideal situation? Not hardly. Perfect solution? Nope. Is it a start? I really hope so.