The Flood of 2012

So Josh was out of town on a "business" trip...and I was home with the kiddos.  This was the second trip in two weeks, so I was feeling a bit frazzled...frayed...fried...shall I continue?  Anyway, I had put the girls in the tub, got them clean and left them to play for a couple of minutes.  The girls are old enough to be fine in the tub for awhile, and this is a normally occurring phenomenon.  I was in the living room, half listening.  I was really only paying attention to their voices...that there were in fact two, and the sound level was normal and not choking or drowning or anything too crazy.

As I was waiting for them to finish, it suddenly dawned on me that, yes I was hearing the girls.  Yes, they were fine...having fun even; it was the other sound that caught my attention.  The sound of water.  Splashing.  Loudly.  Outside of the tub.  Don't ask me how I knew it was outside of the bathtub, I just did.  

So like any well educated adult, I waited to make sure I had really heard the sound I thought I did.  Yes, I really did.  I went flying into the bathroom and literally stepped into water.  Not a drop or two of splashed water, not even a puddle.  Closer to a pond.  Perhaps a lake even.  The water was over the tops of my feet.  Gasp.  Horror.  Are you freaking kidding me?  and OMG!  all rolled into one.  Ivy nearly emptied the tub onto the bathroom floor.  With a cup.  It took 15 towels to dry it up.  The floor has never been so sparkly.

I finally finished schlepping the towels into the washer and was thinking, WINE!  When Abraham hollers up from the basement.  "MOM!   There is water dripping from the ceiling!"  Of. Course. There. Was.  There had been so much water on the floor, that it had come down through the air vent into the room below.  Now I'm thinking cave in, ruined drywall, ruined tile, black mold, hysterical phone calls to husband, holy cow!  I called my builder friend.  He wasn't around.  I called my dad.  He calmed me down and we discussed options.  My builder friend called back, he had the same options.  Dry it out.  SHOULD be fine.

That is the story of the flood of 2012.  What can you do, but laugh until a little bit of pee comes out?

February 4th, 2012

Within the last two days, Loveland, as well as much of the rest of the state was hit by a snow storm.  It was great; we haven't had much this year, it was beautiful, and fast moving. It is already starting to melt.  However, a three-day-weekend was created.  Which wasn't planned for.  I like planning.  Not one for surprises.

I decided that with everyone home and locked in, we would hammer out potty training for Ivy.  I have attempted this a couple of times, but have caved.  I'm not sure what it is about the youngest, but that child gets away with MURDER!  So, Friday, she does pretty well.  We set the timer, and she managed to get to the potty a number of times.  Today.  Well, that didn't go so well.  Starting this morning.  I conveniently had a hair appointment.  Of course I couldn't miss THAT! So I left Joshie in charge.  Apparently it is not called babysitting when they are your kids, but whatever, he was in charge.

I asked him to set the timer for Ivy at 30 minutes as she went pee just before I left.  About 20 mins later, I received a text saying "Accident #1" right before potty break.  Thirty mins later, on the way to potty break, she had another accident.  Then yet another one on the Stripey chair and pillow, followed by a text questioning as to whether he should clean it up or wait for me to get home.  Really?  I didn't happen to see that text, so he decided to leave it for me.  Yippee.

There were at least three before I got home.  Not a great start to the day...and it didn't get much better from then on.  Josh and I both heaved a sigh of relief when she went down for a nap.  An hour and a half when she was in a pull-up.  No pee.  No poop.  No being peed on.   No hanging out in the bathroom.  No asking if anyone has to pee.  No wiping bottoms.  Or fronts.

We needed to run a couple of errands after quiet time, so we threw the kids in the car.  Well, not exactly threw them, but...well, whatever.  We got home just in time for dinner, which was chili, yummy!  Always well received.  Mom had sent the kids Valentine cards and cute glasses, so we let them open them before dinner; the cards are darling, but if I have to hear "Anything you want, you got it!  Anything you need, you got it!"  One more time I'm gonna hurl.

Speaking of hurling.  I was hustling to get the bread in the oven and the food dished up when I looked down.  Great. The dog had puked up her dinner.  Then the boys came tearing into the kitchen and stepped in more dog vomit.  Then we discovered the third pile on the carpet.  Is there a reason the dog has to travel and puke? The discovery of all the puke was happening at the same time all four of them were ripping open their cards and playing FOUR different songs.  AND Abraham had turned the music on downstairs FULL BLAST and Josh had yet more music playing in the living room.  Complete, Horrific, Utter chaos.

Dinner wrapped up quickly, and I went to work on the carpet.  Keep in mind I had already cleaned the carpet in several places today, along with the cushion to the chair and a throw pillow.  Now I'm cleaning the puke.  THEN.  Josh starts screaming at me from the bathroom.  Fab-u-lous.  Ivy has pooped AND peeded in her panties.  In Scarlett's room.  So, we are cleaning her, the bathroom floor, the carpet in the living room, and the carpet in Scarlett's room.

There is still one more day to this weekend.    Day three better be better than day two or she might enter high school in diapers.  Just Kidding.  Kind of.

Oh Tannenbaum!

Let me tell you about our Sunday.  We decided that we should cut our own tree down this year.  We have just gone to the lot the last couple years, usually due to me; finally I wasn't pregnant or nursing so we thought "Let's GO!"
A word, first, about cutting down Christmas Trees in Colorado.  You would think we had a ton of tree farms.  No.  Not really any...But.  We have the National Forests.  They have a great program, that for $10 a tree you can come to the parks and cut your tree down.  So that is what we were planning. 

This Sunday was beautiful, with relatively new snow.  And frigid...I mean frigid.  I have become such a wuss since I moved here.  But it was cold.  Even 'down here' it was only going to get up to about 20 degrees.  We loaded the kids in the Durango (keep in mind it is 10 years old, needs new tires and does NOT come with the convenient babysitter of the DVD player).  Off we went.  First gas, cause we didn't really plan ahead, then up to Red Feathers.  The car ride was uneventful, with the exception of me yelling at Abraham that I was going to make him, at different times, either walk home, throw him in a snow bank, or tie him to the roof of the car because of his behavior towards his sister. 

After an hour and a half of sweet Christmas memories (haha), we arrived.  Up the forest road we went.  Forest road, not paved or even, apparently, grated road.  Bounce.  Jounce.  Tumble around...the kids thought it was great.  We finally selected our perfect tree cutting location.  We parked.  We bundled the kids into snow pants, gloves, hats, boots, coats, ummm is there more?  We jimmied ourselves out of the car.  The first thing I noticed was the temperature.  I felt like I was back in Iowa.  In January.  You know (well, if you are from here you don't) that nose hair freezing feeling?  Yes.  Those of you who live in Colorado; your nose hair can actually freeze.  You can also spit, and it freezes before it hits the ground.  Really. 

Anyway,  we got out of the car and began to make our way into the trees.  Remember, this is not a tree farm.  It is a forest.  At high altitude.  In the winter.  There was, literally, snow well past my knees.  That doesn't translate well for the girls!  We began to tromp through the forest looking for our perfect Christmas tree.  Again... 12 degrees.  Deep snow.  Climbing up the mountain.  Oh, and did I mention that it is intermittently snowing?  It is.  Hard.  And that we are in a forest?  Where the wind blows from the same direction all the time.  At approximately 422 miles per hour...FYI there are no perfect trees when the branches are missing from one whole side of the tree.  And they grow in clumps.  After searching for our tree, Scarlett was stranded and crying.  Ivy was cold and crying.  Correction, screaming... the boys were catapulting themselves, repeatedly, into the snow.  So much for my prior "snowbank" threat.  Josh was looking for the alcohol.  Which we neglected to bring.  Bummer. 

Finally, I just pointed to a tree and said "That one!" Then, under my breath, "I don't freaking care!  Just pick a damn tree..."  Then we had to pick two small ones for the kids.  Could they decide?  Of COURSE not.  Then we had to drag them back to the car.  Then we had to tie them on the car.  In the freezing cold.  While the girls were screaming.  And the boys were picking on the girls. And I lost my sunglasses. Which I eventually found in the hood of my parka.  After searching the mountain.  And I just shut the car door and pretended that I didn't hear anything:)  Great parenting. 

Back in the car, back down the forest road.  Trail...  Path...  Whatever.  Paid.  And back on the road to Loveland.  An hour and a half.  Now four tired kids, three Christmas trees, two tired parents, and a partridge in a pear tree.  Noooo, just thought I would keep the Christmas theme going.  We made it home, got the tree up, lit, decorated...and all the kids are still alive.  Thriving even.  How's that for A Miracle on 34th Street?  Or at least A Miracle on Highway 34....

Merry Christmas everyone!  And laugh, at least once during the season, until a little bit of pee comes out!

Seriously. Why does poo smell?

Ok, beyond the science of the matter; decomposing food and the resultant gases, which about exhausts my knowledge of the digestive system, why does poo smell?  At my house, we call it the spinner...cuz it "spins around, spins around, spins around, and bam!" Explodes the food out to the necessary organs. 


Anyway, back to poo.  Why does it have to smell?  I mean really.  With how amazing our bodies are, how efficiently they work, we couldn't take the smell out of it?   And why does it especially smell when you absolutely positively cannot get away from it?  Like in a car, airplane, grocery cart, swimming pool, doctors office, or any other small enclosure? 

And why does it have to be so yucky?  Especially teething diapers?  Is this so we know that the children are teething?  As if the crankiness, drooling mouth, and not eating are not enough clues....

Sorry, I know this is rather disgusting, however after thousands and thousands of diapers I began to wonder about it.  Especially after a horrendously awful diaper today.  And we are supposed to be potty training.  In theory we shouldn't have anymore horrendously awful diapers.  Because we are NOT in diapers.  At least today.  Perhaps we will be back in them tomorrow.  So, if you have any thoughts on why poo smells, I would love to hear what you think.  This applies to grownups as well. 

Disney...the happiest place on Earth

Yep.  I case you haven't been this is most DEFINITELY the happiest place on earth.  For sure.  When you first get there, you are greeted with love, peace, and kindness.   Certainly, a far cry from pushing, shoving, and shelling out.  Then the real fun begins!  Which ride first?! Pirates for the boys?  Snow White for the girls?  Tower of Terror for the fast passes?  AHHHHH! 

As the day progresses, a pattern emerges; boy ride, girl ride, parent ride, with parent swap and usually a boy who is convinced he is going to DIE.  As if I would spend 10 million dollars to knock them off at DISNEY WORLD.  There are FAR cheaper ways.  I noticed that each and every ride ended in a little gift shop.  Try toting four young children and a husband through a gift shop after all rides.  Then you have all the happy parents!  and happy children!  and happy employees! 

All kidding aside, going to Florida with the kids really was fun; we had a blast at Disney/Epcot/Hollywood Studios.  I experienced spending 12 dollars for a half bottle of wine that I drank straight out of the bottle...Then renting a car and driving across Florida (which apparently isn't all that attractive unless you live on the beach!)  and settling ourselves in 'our' beach house for a week.  We had fabulous weather, great sand castles, and saw some really amazing sites, right from our front porch.  I also discovered a fun bug cleverly called "No See Ums" as you can't see um!  They bite like mad as the sun goes down and leave these great bites that itch like none other.  Think mosquito bites on steroids! 

On the plus side, we say dolphins, sting rays, and tons of fish.  We 'hunted' starfish, shells, and fighting conchs.  We got to hang with grandma and grandpa as well as aunt Sandi and uncle Vern.  Overall, a very successful trip!  I needed a vacation from the vacation. 

Bath Time

When you first have a baby, you think longingly ahead to bathing your precious little one.  Snuggling them, loving on them, cuddling them and getting them all ready for bed.  The truth of the matter is that, just like all things involving children, it is a LOT of work.  Yes, there are moments of snuggling, fun, and cuddling.  But, the majority of the moments involve wrestling, getting wet (you, not them), and wrestling some more.  It is a wrestling match to get them OUT of their clothes and INTO the tub.  Once there they, of course, have a blast!  Especially if you sing to them.  Josh has always done the tub time...it is one of the 'joys' that he took over when we first had James.  He has developed a great routine and has a great time with the kids.  But he usually ends up more wet than the children.  Which is really saying something as they are actually in the water and he isn't. 

Then you go to get them out of the water.  Remembering how they didn't want to get in, you would think they would be super excited to get out.  Nope.  Now it is a wrestling match to get them out.  And dry.  And dressed.  Is it no wonder that we are exhausted come bedtime?!  And sweating? 

Sometimes, like tonight, the joys of bath time don't stop there.  Abraham was in the shower, James and I were in the kitchen cleaning up from supper, and daddy had the girls in the tub for bath.  I heard him singing and playing with them; pretty soon I heard him get Ivy out while Scarlett finished.  No big deal.  She comes toddling out of her room with daddy chasing her down the hall, comb in hand.  Of course, at that moment, the doorbell rings with a neighbor girl selling something.  So, while I was taking care of the necessary purchases, daddy finished combing the monster. Then he got preoccupied with the mail....I went back to the kitchen....and realized in a few minutes that we hadn't heard from Ivy in a bit.  THAT is scary.  She is CRAZY.  I mean really and truly CRAZY.  Pray for me.  Or her.  Noooo, I'm thinking me...  Just as I'm asking Josh where Ivy is, we hear Scarlett from the bathroom..."Mom!  Ivy's in here!"  This in itself is not a huge deal.  She likes to go in and watch her sister finish her bath. 

I respond with, "Ok, daddy's coming!"  Nothing like passing the buck...So in he goes.  Just for the record that is NOT what she meant.  She really meant that Ivy was IN here.  Literally.  In.  The.  Tub. 


What can you do but laugh until a little bit of pee comes out!

Canning

Ahhh, the wonderful turn of the seasons.  The weather is getting cooler.  The veggies are getting ripe in the garden, the leaves are turning, OR, there is this version of autumn:  the flies are on the attack, the spiders are trying to get in, the pollen is so thick it coats every horizontal (and some vertical) surfaces in the house.

But really, I love fall.  I love the cool mornings and warm afternoons.  I love the rainy days.  The combo of jeans and a tshirt. Celebrating SIX birthdays.  The mountains stained gold with aspen leaves, and harvesting the literal fruits of my labor.  I haven't done a garden for a few years.  It was too much for me to take on with either being pregnant or nursing.  However, I thought the kids, this year, might enjoy it.  I did have ulterior motives though.  I was thinking that they (the herd) might actually eat the vegetables that we planted, weeded and watched grow.  We did just a few.  I wanted success with minimal work, in an effort to include everyone and encourage excitement.  We did three different tomatoes, peppers, shallots, watermelon, zucchini, and spaghetti squash.  I am happy to say we had a great harvest!  I have spaghetti squash coming out my ears.  Tomatoes are riping, zucchini's are terrific.  The watermelon...not so much.  And the rabbits really like cherry tomatoes.  But, overall, it was successful.

With all that said, what to do with all this lovely produce?!  So, I decided to can a few things.  Give me a break.  I have four kids, a dog, a cat, three frogs, and a husband.  Oh, and I work for Josh and am starting my own company as well.  And now I'm going to can.  What am I thinking?!  Keep it simple, right?  So, I decided to stick with two kinds of salsa, the traditional tomato and a sweet corn, green beans, peaches, zucchinis, and spaghetti squash.  Go big or go home.  I will spare you the gory details...but HOLY SMOKES.  This is a LOT of work.  I have a whole new respect for our ancestors who had to can to get their families through the winter.  Without the benefit of air conditioning, gas stoves, and running water.  And King Soopers as a back up.

We now have quite of bit of produce stored on the shelves and in the freezer.  I am rather proud of myself and feel some affinity with long gone, prairie women of old.  There is something primal about canning.  Or perhaps I'm just delusional with the heat and work of it all!  Come see me, and enjoy some sweet corn salsa and store bought chips! 

Bananas and Milk

When I was a little girl, mom would sometimes make this yummy treat for me.  I love bananas and milk.  I don't particularly love bananas, but there is something about having them sliced up, with sugar, and milk of course.  It still makes me feel all warm and good when I eat it. 

The other day we were doing the normal breakfast chaos.  Someone is always needing something, and either the milk, cereal, or both get spilled.  It is inevitable. I always think about doing a big breakfast, but rarely get it done.  Saturday's are our "Pancake Day" but that is about it.  Anyway, on the particular day, I left the kitchen for awhile.  BIG mistake.  Duh.  Of course it was a big mistake.  I knew it before I left the room. 

We have the boys sitting by the girls at the table, with Josh and I on the ends in the hopes of splitting up the boys fighting and perhaps even lending a hand with the girls.  Sometimes it even works.  So, I left.  Everyone was sitting down, breakfast was on the table, vitamins were served, milk was poured.  We were good. 

When I came back in, I thought we had made it.  The boys and Scarlett had put their dishes in the washer, the cereal was put away, and no children were in sight.  I commenced the clean up.  Put Ivy's dishes away, wiping the counter and table.  Putting the milk away.  As I grabbed the lid for the milk, I noticed there seemed to be some kind of weird substance on the rim.  Hmmm.  Never good.  So I investigated further.  Sniff.  Hmmm, bananas.  Look.  Hmmm looks like bananas floating in the milk.  Bet you didn't know that I was a scientist did you?  Anyway, by process of elimination, mainly, Ivy was the only child who ate bananas for breakfast, and the fact that the gallon of milk was strategically placed near her booster, I used my deductive reasoning and figured out that she had not eaten her breakfast as I had first thought, but instead had made her own version of bananas and milk. 

Great.  I really did think about just leaving it.  How awful could it be anyway?  Just for the record I did not leave it.  I strained the bananas out.  I also seriously considered making my own bananas and milk from her bananas, but figured that wasn't so great either; besides, I couldn't get the bananas out of the carton.  And crisis number 2 of the day had already begun. 

Princess and the Frog

No, this posting is not about the movie.  I wish.  I don't have that life.  Not that I really want it...Oh, wait.  Yes I do!  No this posting is, shockingly, about Scarlett.  She is the princess.  Of course.  On this particular day she was Snow White.  

Blogger Interlude...

She has also been Belle, from Beauty and the Beast and Ariel from The Little Mermaid.  We even had a melt down after she was in bed one night.  She comes creeping out of her room; I can always hear them coming, I'm just never sure which them it is that is going to make an appearance.  Most of the time it is Abraham.  Shocking.  I know.  Anyway, this particular night it was Scarlett.  She was really upset.  Big, old, fat tears pouring down her face.  I couldn't for the life of me figure out what could have traumatized her that much that quickly.  Eventually I was able to ascertain that she was deeply troubled by the fact that she couldn't be Rapunzel.  From Tangled.  Ummmm...really?  And I have to figure out a solution to this now?  While I'm drinking my wine?  Great.  So we discuss how pretty she is, and how she has this attribute and that attribute.  Finally, it comes down to the dress.  She doesn't have a purple one like Rapunzel.  I did what any good mommy would do.  I promised to buy her one, if she would only go to bed.  It worked. 

Anyway, back to Snow White.  The kids were outside playing.  And Scarlett, aka Snow White, was out with the boys.  I generally don't let her play unsupervised, but it was hot.  And I had work to do.  So I was watching from the front windows.   They were so cute.  They were riding bikes, walking around, and catching frogs.  Yep.  Catching frogs.  OK, so Abraham was catching the little (well, not so little) critters and James and Scarlett were watching.  As I watched Bram go after one, I had the thought that he looked a bit like a frog himself.  He is all legs, and he squats down and sort of hops after them....

Anyway, a couple minutes later I look back out the windows and see Scarlett holding a frog.  Or, maybe, squeezing the life out of it.  As she holds it up to her face, I think: hmmm;  her favorite prince is Navin (Princess and the Frog).  She is not thinking that if she kisses this toad that he is gonna appear, right?  I don't  really know the answer to that.  I'm hoping no, but think probably yes.  Outside I go....

So, because of the infatuation with frogs/toads (what is the difference, anyway) I decided to try for the Coolest Mom of the Day Award.  We went to Pet Smart and bought, TA DA....three fire belly toads.  They live in an aquarium thingy in may living room.  They are not allowed to live in bedrooms because I am afraid they will be set free.  I am afraid they will be set free in the living room as well, but at least I might notice their absence there.  That brings us to four children, one dog, one cat, one husband, and three frogs.  OMG.  They eat crickets...and have to have a light.  For right now, I have the children convinced it is not healthy to touch the toads, but am not sure how long I can milk that for.  Oh, and they named them of course.  The three older ones got to name them of course.  James's is Monet, because he likes art.  Abraham's is Pascal, because he likes science.  (I don't think this is true.  I think he likes blowing things up.)  And Scarlett's?  Hers is Cinderella. 

Sweet Summer

When I think of summer, the usual comes to mind.  Ice cream cones.  Days at the pool, hot afternoons, sprinkler, AC, kool aid, sun tans, etc. However, while sitting outside with the kids this morning, before it got too hot, I realized that summer is maybe a bit different than I remember as kid.  First, I don't remember it being so hot.  I know it must have been, but then it is age that is making it hotter!

The other major difference is the fact that I'm a mom.  Of babies, toddlers, and boys.  Oh, the boys.  Abraham especially.  And Ivy.  Who is obviously not a boy, but whatever.  Those two together are CRAZY.  It brings our prior craziness to a whole new level.  As we were hanging out together on the driveway, I watched the kids attempt to climb a tree.  While that in itself is not a huge deal, the fact that they were using a huge green BALL to stand on to reach the lowest branch makes it a bigger deal.  Scarlett and James held the ball while Abraham stood on it reaching waaaaay up into the tree for the tree branch.  And what did I do while they were attempting this asinine stunt?  I went to get my camera of course! 

The second adventure that we had this morning involves the youngest boy and girl.  Those two are peas in a pod as far as wild is concerned.  Apparently this stunt started when daddy was home watching the kids; I'd like to say I wouldn't have allowed it, but I probably would have.  After all, I am letting it continue, and I took video!  We have this speed bike, as it is aptly named by the children; it is a one person bike thingy that you sit on.  You are supposed to move the handle back and forth to make it go, but we have never really done that.  Abraham claimed this as his bike early on, and has since been out to break all speed records on the thing.  He races down the neighbors driveway and crashes into the grass.  At least he doesn't go down ours, right?  As it is steeper and has a corner.  Yeah, right.  He can go faster down ours and then crash land in the grass.  And usually tip over....

Wellllll, apparently Ivy has watched her brother do this.  Don't call social services, I won't let her go down the driveway alone, and not for lack of trying....now she sits on the back of the bike with Abraham and they zoom down drive and crash into the grass together.  She can't get enough of it...OMG.  Imagine the two of them behind the wheel of a car in a few years!

Father's Day

Dear Dad,

I was so lucky to grow up with two amazing parents who loved us and each other. The kind who are always there, support you-even your dumb ideas, and pick you up and brush you off whenever you fall down.  But you, dad,  have always been on a pedestal.  You taught me to snow ski, water ski, and bike ride; built tree forts, snow forts, and box forts. We did doughnuts, ate ice cream, and kept secrets (or so I thought) from mom. As I have gotten older, you and mom have gotten smarter, cooler, and wiser-which is not at ALL the same as smarter.

I have learned much from watching you; most good! I learned how a mom and wife should be treated, how people should be treated, how dogs should be treated. I learned how to take care of a garage, car, and a boat!  I learned to joke and take a joke. Laugh and laugh at myself. Respect the military and love my country.

While I have grown up, moved away, and started my own family, keeping close to you, mom, and Bud are a huge priority. I can think of no greater compliment when someone tells me I'm like you or mom.  As I suppose is inevitable, your pedestal resumed normal size-but I love you even more for being human. It is much easier to look up to and respect you for your imperfections, knowing you see mine and look past them, too.

So, on this Father's Day, I wanted to say thank you. For being a great dad, husband, and friend. Love you...

VBS

I have some great friends.  A couple of them work for the church we attend; so it makes sense that I volunteer for the church, both because of my friends and because my children are a part of children's ministry. 

A couple months ago, Kristy, a dear friend of mine, asked me if I would handle the crafts for the summer VBS program.  I said yes.  As if I don't have enough on my plate, I decided that I needed to take on crafts for 200 children too.  And, as I found out, this is an outreach VBS.  So, every craft we make, we make one to give away too.  Therefore, it is not 200 crafts, but 400.  Did I mention that I don't really like children?  Nevermind that I have four of my own...and I really don't like chaos.  Or messes.  Or lots of excessive noise. 

Day one was pretty basic, just coloring t shirts and making books, Tuesday we made I Spy bottles for the children's hospital.  There was rice from one end of that building to the other.  Today we colored and stuffed travel pillows for the homeless.  Tomorrow we are painting welcome mats on carpet samples for the local orphanage.  Friday we are making greeting cards with seed packets on them.  As organized as I am, there is a lot of running around.  We decided today that it would be wise to have tablecloths down for the welcome mats.  AND we decided that we were going to control the paint and the refilling of the paint! 

And then there is Ivy.  She doesn't like to be away from me, and normally I would just put her in the kids room, but I'm afraid to do this for five days in a row, for 4 hours in a row!  They might kick me out, craft or no craft!  So she attends the craft project with me. 

I have some great helpers, who are as organized as I am, and I love them!  I have also discovered that I really like seeing my children come through and do their crafts...and then have them move on.  They are so cute!  The kids seem to be having a great time and are learning a lot.  I haven't decided if I'm doing VBS again next year, we shall see.  For now, all I can say is I'm tired:)  I have also decided that VBS should not stand for just Vacation Bible School.  Not sure there is a lot of Vacation in it.  I think VBS should stand for Very Busy Summer!

My panties are wet.

It has been a couple of crazy weeks. .. although I'm not sure when it isn't crazy. We had a friend come over for dinner, along with her two kiddos; we were hanging out having a great time. We decided to have the kids go outside because the weather was so perfect. As we are hanging around, Scarlett starts to do the pee dance. So, feeling very motherly, I say "Scarlett, do you have to pee?" I'm not sure what it is about this question, but the response is always "NO!" As it was in this case; with an immediate ceasefire of the pee dance. A few minutes pass; the pee dance resumes. I once again inquire as to the status of her bladder. Once again receiving a negative. A few more minutes, the dancing continues, I ask once again. However, this time she says Yes! (no way!) and starts to make for the door. I assume all is well. Then I look back over my shoulder and discover that Scarlett is dinking around. Now, I'm not exactly a patient person, but I try... except that I, by this time, have to pee because I've spent the last 15 minutes watching her have to pee.

So I yell at her to get inside and pee before she has an accident. She looks at me like I'm stupid-I somehow don't think this is the last time-when she has the accident. Yep. She pees all over the place. I make it a general rule not to yell at the kids when they have a potty accident, but, seriously?! Now she is standing in a puddle of her own making, walking toward the house. Little, wet, smelly Scarlett footprints. Making a beeline for my somewhat clean house. Uhhh...no. "ST0P!!" She wants to know why. "Because you are covered in pee!" Ok, she agrees with that. So we decide to strip. Yes. In front of everyone. We get her dress off and she is standing in her scivies and she says "Mama, my panties are wet!" Well gee, honey that's what happens when we pee our pants. I didn't bother to tell her this happens to me regularly...because after four babies, I sometimes laugh so hard a little bit of pee comes out!

This particular blog is dedicated to my Aunt Sally who was unexpectedly called home last week. She loved her girls, her grandchildren, and her husband. She loved her brother and sister, and her neices and nephews, of which I was proud to be one. We talked, laughed, and told stories. I don't regret anything-except maybe not talking to her more. She called me Sarahbear and laughed with me about my crazy kids. I loved the sound of her raspy voice. I hate that she is gone from us, but am so glad she got those extra 7 years. Love you Aunt Sal.

Oma's Solo Babysitting Adventure

Josh and I were extremely fortunate to be able to go to the Dominican Republic with a couple of friends.  Mom was gracious enough to come watch the kiddos while we were gone.  So I asked her if she would like to do a guest spot on my blog.  She agreed.  This is what follows!

 

Dropping in for a long weekend or even having the Nelson's visit for a week at our home in Iowa does not prepare a 62 year old Grandma to fly solo with the 4 grandchildren, cat and dog for 5 days. I had to fly out 2 days early to be trained - oh yeah, I needed every bit of training I could get.

You would think raising two children of my own that I would remember how to change a diaper (especially a messy one - gag). You gotta be quick! Otherwise it can lead to disaster.

Bath time should be a fun time right? Well when you have to bend over the tub with a bad back, and kneel on that hard ceramic tile....not so much. The hardest part is moving quickly before you get a face full of water from the splashing.

Speaking of water....the two older boys have a bathroom all of their own. (I remember one bath per household?) Anyway, one night I went down to get them into bed after their showers, and the bathroom floor was a swimming pool. Water everywhere - when asked who might have been the culprit, two sets of very innocents eyes said "I didn't do it!". So being fair and equitable, I made them both clean it up and take the towels to the dryer. The boys in general were really good, and helpful. Sarah has a list of their daily chores, and boy do they get their stuff done. Not sure why I didn't think of that 30 years ago. But with 4 kids, guess you have to have some organization to it all.

Wow, how much "stuff" can you take to bed at night? I mean it just isn't your favorite blanket anymore. It's at least 4 books, flashlight, 3 stuffed animals, a plastic scary looking crab, toys, water bottles - and you have to remember each child has a certain routine with lights that are left on, and those that you have to go back after an hour and either turn off or dim. The pillows have to be arranged exactly the same, doors either closed or ajar. Unfortunately, I had to make lists for each kid.

The lists. OK, sorry, my TV turns on with one remote. Again I had an entire page of notes on how to put a movie into the DVD player. AND it took 3 remotes to do it. Can you believe that. Worse thing is - James and Bram know how to do it without ANY notes. And then there is the Nintendo and Wii thing. How do they expect you to keep all this electronic stuff straight ?? But I can bake cookies...and I did make 2 batches in 5 days. Along with 15 meals and 40 snack requests. Phone lists, grocery lists, bedtime lists, emergency phone number lists, medication lists, take out and delivery list, it goes on and on.

With the schedule of the boys going to school by 7:30 am on 3 of the 5 days I thought it wise to get up early enough to take a shower and be dressed before breakfast time. I just didn't feel safe enough taking a shower with a 16 month and 3 year old left to fend for themselves while I took a shower - I know Sarah can do this with ease, Me not so much. SO to get this accomplished I was up at 5:15 AM. I thought I was retired! But, Scarlett fooled me, she was up at 5:00 AM ready to start her day. I convinced her to play grandma and lay in my bed all covered up and watch TV. Enabling me to take the coveted morning shower in peace. I deftly put her to bed later the next night.

Pets are wonderful. I love my pets, always have. Love Sarah's dog Lucy and cat Anna. However, do I have to sleep with them? I mean those two needed to lay right up tight and personal to me at night. All night, every night. Not wanting to "rock the boat" I thought surely they will move away during the night - but no, Lucy especially was there all night. And she likes to get up in the middle of the night and circle around and plop down again. I didn't think a 40 pound dog could shake the bed so much. The cat loved me, I felt thankful that she loved me and that it wasn't the horror story of the Nelson's first cat - Tiger. Tiger only liked Josh. And it scared me to death, I wouldn't be in the same room with the cat - ever!

 

Sarah and Josh are very blessed to have 4 lovely children. They are all so fun and have different personalities. I really do not have a favorite (or do I). I always bring gifts when I come - this time I crammed two - not one - soccer balls in my carry on. Whatever you have to do. The boys loved them of course. I did some sewing for the girls - the normal gifty things, but did bring Scarlett a Snow white dress and crown - she is big into Snow White. She was so excited with it, had to wear it for 24 hours straight. She said "Grandma, you are the Best". I am thinking I am such a wonderful grandma......it was short lived. When I scolded her for coloring on the ottoman (completely covering it I might add)

She promptly told me that I was "NOT the Best anymore."

As Sarah would say...I laughed so hard a little bit of pee came out.........in my case not so unusual.

Funny things kids say

We kept a list of all the silly things the kids said on our recent trip. I have gotten into the habit of, and keep a journal of, silly/ funny/ cute words the kids say; so it was easy to write down a list while we were gone.  

They totally crack me up sometimes. Some of the crazy stuff is so the age they are; some is just because they are... well... crazy.

So, here goes the list...

1. "My Penis is scared"- Abraham; when going up, before we went down on the Atlantis Ride.
2.  "Ice! That is so cool!"  James after I made ice - rather than having it dispense from the frig like at home.
3.  "Oh. They are real." James in regards to the penguins we saw at Sea World.  Did he think they were fake?
4.   Singing... "Your butt is cute and you're pooping!" -Abraham. Hmmm
5.   "I put chapstick on my tummy. Ivy's too. And my legs. And my face. And I wrote letters on here (the dresser) for you." -Scarlet; that was fun to clean up.
6.  "Sea World has lots of seas." James. Ummm, well yes it does.
7.  "Does Lego land have Lego's?" -Scarlett. Really?
8.  "Can I get in the mud?" -Scarlett. Let me think about that for .2 seconds.  ah, no.
9.   While riding in the car, "Mom?"
      "Yes?"
      "Do they have schools here?" (Meaning in California)
      "Yes..."
      "Where are they then. That's the question." -Both boys
10.  While walking up the sidewalk to enter the park, "Look! It's a Lego bird!" -James: about a regular, old, black, bird sitting on the entrance sign.
11.  "Lego's have mass"- James. Mass? Are you kidding me? Mass? Sheesh. Not what I was thinking.   I was closer to..."Wow, that's cool."
12.  This isn't anything said because it was Ivy and she has a very limited vocabulary. But in the elevator she was playing pin ball And she was the ball. It was quite funny to watch her bounce off the walls and door of the elevator. Repeatedly.
13. Last one, I think. One of the few things Ivy says is "snack" but she draws out the "sn" and says it over and over and over until you give her something to eat. "Snnnack.  Snnnack. Snnnack. Snnnack.  Snnnack.  Snnnack."

I love my kids soooo much.  And I love how they think.  It just cracks me up!

Swimming with Dolphins

We decided it would be fun to take the kids on a trip. Josh has been working a million hours... So as a reward for the children we planned to surprise everyone and take them to Legoland and Sea World in California. Four kids on a plane, at two theme parks, the ocean, restaurants, public bathrooms, rental car, sun, wind, and did I mention four kids? Yea. Fun. That's what I'm thinking. I have planned my next few blogs around this trip, so please bear with me. Or is it bare with me? Hmmm.  Can't remember.

Ok, so Sea World is a bit on the Nazi side with their animals. I get it. When you have 9 million people trying to feed the dolphins their leftover lunch, it can get annoying.  We were winding down the day; Scarlett had the map and was very proudly carrying it everywhere. We wandered over to this GIGANTIC pool where there were about a dozen dolphins swimming around. It was SUPER crowded because you could actually touch the dolphins. Scarlett couldn't see very well, so she climbed out of the stroller; then she asked if I could pick her up. I did so. There was a short, but thick wall, so I leaned her back on me and rested her feet on the wall. It was a bit breezy.  No, she didn't go for a swim. The map did.

Crystal clear pool, 12 dolphins, 4127 people,  1 park person telling all about these "amazing creatures, but PLEASE don't put anything into the pool except your hands"; 1 screaming, tired, hungry, now map less 3-year-old, 1 paper map floating away in the pool. By now all 4127 people are looking at us and I'm trying to get the attention of park girl without interrupting her spiel.  Which is being heard by all 4127 people.  Or was.  Not easy. Even for someone as proficient in sign language as I am. So I finally get her attention, or it could have been Scarlett screaming and crying out to the now drowning map.  Park girl stayed calm, but immediately called for backup. While the reinforcements were arriving, I put the crazy, crying toddler down and went to see if I could reach the map without going swimming myself. Or drowning myself. Don't get me wrong, I've always wanted to swim with dolphins, but this wasn't the appropriate time or place. And I didn't have a bathing suit. Or a towel. All this time, I'm convinced we are going to get kicked out of Sea World. We are going to blacklisted from all theme parks for time immemorial, perhaps we won't be able to get on a plane. Ever again.

So, I'm leaning into the pool praying for a breeze, when something really cool happens. No, I didn't fall in. A dolphin swam up, picked up the map in his mouth and BROUGHT it back to me.  He handed (or whatever you call it when an animal with no hands gives you something) the map to me. Then I petted his nose and head, took it, and got the hell out of there. As far as I know, we aren't blacklisted. Yet. What can you do, but laugh until a little bit of pee comes out!

Hide and Seek, with a cell phone

It has been a looooong weekend.  You would think the weather would be great at this time of the year and a long weekend from school and celebrating Easter would be awesome!  Nope.  Rainy and yucky all weekend.  Kids were stuck inside, and therefore, by default, so were we.  I shouldn't complain about the rain.  It rarely happens and Colorado is extremely dry, which will of course result in wildfires, which will cause me to complain later! 

Anyway, after spending the weekend chasing  the children around, it struck me at all the places that I have and have not found my phone.  I understand that this particular blog may be more my fault than the other blogs, but so be it.  About a year ago, Josh and I made the jump to the 21st century and dropped our home phone.  I haven't really missed it all that much, except for two small problems.  One:  we have terrible cell phone reception here.  Whenever I talk to someone I have to confine myself to the front of the house.  The dining room.  Chair. In the window.  And not move.  Sometimes not breathe.  So I cannot get ANYTHING done when I am on the phone.  I would be better off with a dial and cord.  At least most of those old phones were in the kitchen where I spend a large portion of my day. 

Two:  I have discovered, that if you misplace the cell phone, you cannot call it to listen for the ring if you don't have another phone from which to dial.  You also can't call your husband to call you so you can listen for the ring.  Hmmm.  This would normally not be a problem if you weren't me and constantly either setting the silly thing down in the dumbest places or letting your children play with the phone.  For the record, Josh and I have very different philosophies regarding cell phone usage.  I believe that if it keeps them (the children) quiet for 5 seconds, let them play with it (have you seen Talking Tom?!).  He does not.  He is probably right.  I would have FAR fewer problems with the phone and its missing status if I didn't let them haul it around with them.  And kept it somewhere logical, like the counter. Or my purse.  Which resembles Target, but smaller.  A little smaller. 

So in keeping with my title, here are a few places where my phone (and rarely Josh's) has turned up.  Sheepishly, I have to say, most of these are my fault, but not all.  I will leave the figuring out which ones are mine and which are not, up to you dear reader. 

1.  The back of the toilet. 

2.  The trash can in the bathroom.

3.  Stuck behind the car seat in the car.

4.  The walking trail.

5.  Wedged between the seat and consul of the car. 

6.  A sweatshirt pocket thrown up in the top shelf of the closet.

7.  The washer. 

8.  The dryer.

9.  The toy box.

10.  Abraham's room.  Which, even after he cleans it up, looks like a bomb went off.

11.  Gym bag.

12.  Pantry.

13.  In the toilet.  The water was clean.  And yes it still works. 

14.  Under the couch.

15.  In the cushions.  Of the couch, chair, bed.  Upstairs and down.

16.  Under my bed. 

17.  Under Scarlett's bed.

18.  Under Ivy's bed.

19.  Under James's bed.  (Just for the record, I hate that there is an 's after s names.)

20.  Under Abraham's bed. 

21.  The 'high' counter.

22.  In the bed.

23.  In the store room.

24.  In the cat food.

25.  In the dog food.

26.  In the garage.

27.  In the stroller.

28.  In my purse after I swear I have checked it 37 times.

29.  Under the car.

30.  On the deck. 

31.  In the yard.  On a rock.

32.  At Starbucks.

33.  On the running board of the car.

34.  In papa's 4 wheeler.

35. In the boat.

36.  Jeans pocket.  Some 394 times.

37.  In my hand.

38.  In the cupboard.  With the dishes.

39.  In the gravel.

40.  By the fire pit.

Also for the record, I have yet to really lose the phone.  Mostly due to the fact that I bribe the children.  Whoever can find my phone first gets a piece of candy or a quarter!  Lucky kids!

A & D uses

You wouldn't think A & D would have more than the obvious uses. Oh but it does. It does quite well with what you think. Diaper rash.  I think it is my favorite diaper rash ointment. Is it sad that I have a favorite diaper rash ointment?  I am afraid that last question may have diminished my status. . . ah well.

So here area few of my favorites, if not so well known, uses of A& D:

1. Toothpaste. I don't have a clue how this could happen-have you smelled this stuff? 
2. Lotion. Again, the smell. But it works wonders on really dry skin.
3. ChapStick. Similar to #2, except it tastes as bad as it smells. But it really works well... if you don't chew your lips.
4. You can use it to get off stuck jewlery.
5. Fingernail polish.
6. Windex. Scarlett was attempting to use into wash her mirror during quiet time.  Fantastic.
7. It cures diaper rash on dolls, too.
8. It works really well to clean doll clothes. Well, not really. It just makes them slimy and smelly. 
9. Apparently, you can put A&D on the cat as well. I never got the answer to my "why?" But I'm sure there is a really, really good reason for it. I just don't know what it is.
10. This can also be used on dishes. Again, I have NO idea why we were putting it on the dishes, but, I'm sure there was some purpose.
11. Teether. Ivy loves to chew on the tube when her teeth hurt. I'm afraid she is going to bite a hole in it, so I have to keep it hidden from her. Perhaps I should keep it hidden from everyone. 

Apparently A&D should be a controlled substance. At least in my house. I had no idea the uses for it. I somehow doubt I have seen the end of the creativity.  What can you do... but laugh until a little bit of pee comes out!

13 Things I haven't learned while being a mommy

I have learned innumerable things while being a mom.  I was going to blog about that, then realized that if you have kids, you too have learned these things.  And it sounded a little too much like that poster "All I needed, I learned in Kindergarten".  So I decided that I would go the other way!

1.  I have NOT learned how to fold a fitted sheet.  I have even looked it up on Google.  Yes there are directions there.  No they are not clear.  I have tried the suggestions.  Gotten help from Martha.  Gotten help from a former student who was in the Army.  Gotten help from my mom.  Nada.  Can't do it.  Now I just sort of guess, and end up wadding it up.  If you ever stay at my house, the sheets will be clean.  Probably.  But not well folded. 

2.  Making coffee.  I love coffee.  Drink it every day.  Can't make it.  My lovely husband makes it; when he is gone or forgets, I bribe James.  I either make it too strong or too weak.  I can cook just about anything, apparently coffee isn't in that group. 

3.  Keep the Tupperware straight.  I have tried.  I have kept the lids on when not in use.    I have kept the lids off when not in use.  I have bundled the lids up, I have thrown the lids in.  I have even shoved it all in and slammed the door shut.  I have a newer set now that was supposed to help.  The lids stick to the bottom.  Yeah, right.  Apparently they aren't toddler proof.  But they are husband proof.  

4.  Keep the floors clean.  I remember the days when I would sweep the kitchen and it would still look pretty good in a week or so.  Not anymore.  I am LUCKY to get through a meal.  I sweep several times a day and am still amazed at the amount I can collect in the dust pan each time. Not just under the table either.  I swear it breeds.  I know when I haven't swept for awhile too as Josh starts to wear shoes in the kitchen to avoid getting the crumbs on his feet. 

5.  Pull the car into the garage.  Come on.  How hard can this really be?  Apparently, for me, it is up there on the difficulty scale.  I either pull it too far in, and squash the ladder between the car and the wall, or I don't pull it in far enough and the door shuts on it.  I have contemplated putting in one of those hanging golf ball things, but that reeks of 'old' and I can't do it.Yet.

6.   Clip coupons.  I know.  It saves money.  But I don't get it done.  And the few times that I have remembered to cut them out, I either leave them in the car or in my purse upon checkout. 

7.  I haven't learned how to load the dishwasher.  I am of a mind that if you can get it in there, the machine will get it clean.  Not sure what I'm thinking here.  Maybe there are little men who march out of the sprayers and scrub the dishes?  Or maybe there is some kind of sensor that tells it that it is overfull and to bring out the turbo spray?  I don't know, nor really care.  I have a lot to take care of, the least the machine could do is get the damn dishes clean.  I don't care if they are double stacked or not!

8.  Use the loopy things on clothes to hang them up?  Huh.  This one is way beyond me.  I don't get it.  I'll  just fold it. 

9.  This goes with #8.  Iron.  I despise ironing.  It is hot.  It is a pain.  It's constant.  It doesn't last.  And I don't know how.  Please don't offer to teach me.  I don't want to know.  I will say the few times that I have tried to iron, I get one side all nice looking and start to feel ok about it, then I flip it over and do the other side.  By the time I finish, the first side has one or two GIANT creases in it.  Fabulous. 

10.  Sew on buttons.  I have developed a love of hand sewing.  Don't laugh.  But. I. Don't. Like. Sewing. On. Buttons.  First, I don't ever get it lined up straight, so then the button is crooked comopared with all his button buddies.  Or I somehow bunch the fabric and it comes out wrinkled.  Or I don't think about the thread color and use black on a white button down shirt.  Or I draw blood because I'm just that clumsy.  I also seem to have trouble getting the needle to find the proper hole of the button.  Either I ram it into the button, or I come up in the same place I just was.

11.  Play make believe.  I love my kids.  I love their imaginations.  I do not love playing imagination with my kids.  I can get on the floor with the best of intentions, but I am rapidly bored.  I don't make doll conversations.  I don't make superhero conversations.  If you want to construct a block city, I'm in.  Play with said city...not so much.

12.  Bake.  I wish I could.  Kind of.  I have no will power, so the more I bake, the more I eat.  However, it would be nice to have cookies or cake or other sweets occasionally.  Nope.  Not sure if it is the altitude or the attitude, but I have stopped trying.  I will certainly provide for the bake sale.  But it will most definitely be break and bake. Kudos Pillsbury! 

13.  How to keep a nose clean.  After four kids teething their way through the first two years, you would think I would be a professional nose wiper or have come up with something that stops the constant drip. Nope.  We struggle with every wipe of the tissue.  It becomes a battle where I have to wrestle them down, pin their arms, and hold their head still just to get a good swipe.   It's a blast.

I'm sure there is more, but I have to go make dinner now.  I don't know about you, but I did NOT learn all I needed in Kindergarten.  Or elementary, high school, college or 15 years of marriage!  These are just a few of the items that I cannot do.  What can you do... but laugh til a little bit of pee comes out!

Pink Paint

So, we decided to paint the girls' bathroom this past weekend.  It was a bright, obnoxious yellow that you would think would make the bathroom feel light.  Nope.  Dark.  I was really sick of it and thought it would be nice to paint it a pretty pink for the girls.  I got the tape, liners, primer, brushes, rollers, drop clothes, and of course, paint. 

I got the bathroom all cleaned out and taped up.  Saturday rolled around.  Of course the weather did not cooperate.  Instead of being cold and ugly outside it was beautiful.  Just want you want to do the first nice day in weeks...however that is just what I did.  First, the primer.  Of course, I forgot to put the drop cloth down before I started.  And I am not a neat painter.  I tend to slap it up and get 'r done.  I worry about the clean up later.  However, I didn't know that primer is not water based.  At least this one was not.  It is oil based.  Hmmm.  I should have read a little closer.  It is a real pain to clean up non-water-soluble paint.  Primer.  Whatever.  Especially when you didn't know it wasn't water soluble.  And you didn't use a drop cloth.  And you are not a neat painter.  And you have four children.  Who suddenly find you the most interesting, fabulous, and coolest person they have ever met.  Because suddenly we care deeply about our sisters and want them to have a great bathroom. 

Josh and I have a great house.  With lots of room.  Not so much in the bathroom, however.  James, Abraham, Scarlett, Ivy, sometimes Josh, and myself.  All in the bathroom.  Painting.  The boys are 'helping'.  And I mean all the boys.  Scarlett is watching.  And Ivy.  Well, she wasn't feeling so good.  So, I had to hold her.  While I painted.  That was fun. 

I didn't have to hold her the whole time.  Just most of the time.  When I wasn't holding her, she was walking around the bathroom.  With the paint.  Yep.  She got in it.  Remember, at this point I think it is water soluble!  So, I think, let her walk around...it is kind of cute.  That is until I go to wash it off!  After nearly all day, I got the primer done. 

Saturday afternoon I realized that it was not water soluble paint.  Hmmm.  I don't have mineral spirits.  So my other options are gasoline or let it wear off.  I don't think gas is such a great idea for the children, so I opt to let it wear off.  Now, their feet are whitish.  Their hair has paint in it, and their fingernails are white.  Instead of grimy black.  Fabulous. 

Sunday, I worked on the pink.  I opted to do this one myself, with no 'help'.  Well, except for Ivy.  She had to 'help' too.  This paint, however, was water based.  So at least we don't look like candy canes.  The bathroom looks great.  The tape has been removed.  The floor has been scraped.  The mirror has been scraped.  The toilet has been scraped.  The sink has been scraped.  The tub, tile, cabinets, and towel bars have been scraped.  The bathroom is primer free, can't say the same for the kids. 

Ivy's feet are white-ish, but the adventure was worth it!

The RED card

The dreaded RED card.  Abraham has a fantastic kindergarten teacher.  She definitely has her hands full; I couldn't possibly do it...give me room full of teenagers, but a room full of five year olds?!  Yikes.  She has implemented a new policy for her class, mostly due to, I'm afraid, Abraham and his little buddies.  There are now three cards.  Green, yellow, and red.  The green card is the one you start out with at the beginning of the day.  Your first warning and you get that taken away and replaced with a yellow.  Yellow causes you to miss a bit of recess.  And  mom has to sign it.  If you get in trouble again, you get a red card.  This means that you miss all of recess and of course mom has to sign it and receives a phone call home. 

The day before she set the new policy in place, she sent a letter home along with an email explaining the new system.  Abraham and I sat down and discussed these different options and what would happen at home.  We, as a general rule, don't allow Nintendo on school nights.  It is too distracting for us.  However, Bram LOVES Nintendo.  So, I told him that if he brings home a green slip, when he gets his chores done, he can play Nintendo.  Yellow comes home and the rule stands...no Nintendo.  If a red comes home, he loses Nintendo for two weeks.  For him, that is severe punishment. 

The next day is a Thursday.  Abraham comes home with a green!  Yea!  Good for him.  It has a sticker, the date, etc on it.  He is very proud and hurries through his laundry to get to the game.  The next afternoon, Friday, he comes home with another green.  This one is slightly different, and I am puzzled by it.  There is no sticker, date, or anything.  Just the photocopy green paper.  Hmmm.  But, even though I don't, I try to believe him.  The weekend progresses and we are flyng around.  Sunday afternoon rolls around.  I receive a phone call from his teacher.  Who is on my speed dial. 

"Sarah, just checking in to see if Abraham told you yet about the red card?"

"Red card?  He didn't receive a green one?  That is the one he brought home...although is wasn't initialled by you or dated/stickered..."

"Oh, no.  He got his green taken from him.  Let's see, I have it written down.  He couldn't keep his hands to himself and was not paying attention."

"Oh, well, that's interesting.  Hmmm.  Apparently he picked the green one up off the floor and brought that one home instead.  Ok, thanks so much for your phone call.  I need to go find Abraham."  I'm thinking he's dead...It was not a pleasant conversation for my young son.  He once again had to learn the difference between one punishment and two.  One for getting a red, (losing Nintendo for two weeks) and two for lying about it.  You would think that after multiple times of this happening, you would stop LYING!  He did however ask if his daddy could administer the spanking.  I asked him why.  He said "Because daddy's don't hurt!"  Nice. 

I have to say, the Nintendo bribery is working.  In the weeks since the cards, he has only received the one red card.  A couple of yellows, but mostly green.  I am proud of him, even if he drives me crazy!

You hurt your what?

Josh and I have made a commitment to use proper words.  This is not an easy task.  I don't like to use proper words.  I like to talk fast, and make up words, especially when they are uncomfortable words.  For example, ding dong instead of penis.  Sorry if you are now blushing.  However, I have come to see the benefit to using proper words, at least some of the time.  I am becoming more used to them, and in saying them, out loud I hope my children will also become less sensitive to them and be able to talk to me (or daddy) about embarrassing things in the future.  Which I for one am hoping is YEARS and YEARS to come, but am suspecting is right around the corner.  I know, this isn't really all that likely, but still.  We do what we can. 

I have to say, it is working to some extent.  The boys are not the least embarrassed by the words penis, breasts, even *chringe* vagina.  OMG.  Did I really just type that?  Outloud...so to speak.  I often hear "He hit me in the penis!"  "Stop touching my penis!" hmmm, that one made me pause, and was followed by a conversation about not touching someone else's penis.  And "I fell and broke my penis!"  Not sure if that is possible.  Is there a bone in there?  Hmmm...gonna stop with that train of thought right now. 

The newest thing is wondering why Scarlett's penis is so different from theirs.  It goes something like this.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Why is Scarlett's penis so funny looking?"

Silence.  "What?" Please God, he did not just ask that?

"Why is Scarlett's penis so funny looking?"

Yep he did.  My first thought is 'and a penis isn't funny looking?' but I restrain myself.  Then, "well, she doesn't have a penis."

"Yes she does.  Otherwise, how would she go pee?"

Hmmm, good point. "She doesn't go pee out of a penis.  She has a vagina, and that's where the pee comes from."  Ok, I have to pause at this point.  I apparently didn't pay attention in sex ed, because I have NO IDEA if this is the right terminolgy for what I'm talking about.  However, it seems to be the only word I can come up with that won't get me, or them, in trouble at school. 

"Oh, well, that's weird.  Can she stand up to pee?"

Sigh, "No son, she can't.  You would think so, but it doens't work that way.  Unfortunatly."

"Ok."

Later, I hear the boys explaining this whole crazy phenomenon to Scarlett.  She seems to like the idea, but I'm not really sure she gets the difference.  I say this with good reason.  As I picked up Scarlett and the neighbor girl from school on Monday, her preschool teacher made a point to come out to the car.  Uh oh.  She hit someone.  Nope.  She just fell on the playground.  They wanted to be sure I knew, so I that I wouldn't be wondering about the scrapes on her knees.  Also, her teacher wanted me to know that she bumped her "private parts."  Apparently hard enough to make her cry, poor thing.  She ran up to the teacher and said "I fell down!  And I hurt my PENIS!"  They all got such a kick out of this they just had to share it with me; thank goodness they all know she has brothers or can you imagine what they would think?!  What can you do, but laugh until a little bit of pee comes out!

Where did you come from?

This title didn't actually come from me.  We were having dinner with a friend of ours.  She brought her lovely children over to play.  One child is 8 almost 9, and a very self assured young lady.  Our friend also has a little boy, nearly 3, who is just the cutest little thing. 

So we decided to order pizza for dinner.  We also decided that it made way more sense to feed the children first, then attempt to eat ourselves.  The herd was called upstairs, and they stampeded their way into my kitchen.  We got them all settled and started throwing pizza at them as fast as we could.  Amidst all the yelling, laughing, and genuine chaos, I hear machine gun fire!  OK, not real machine gun fire.  But farting machine gun fire.  Here's something I didn't know; if you toot while sitting on a booster seat at the table, it acts as amplification to the toot!  My sweet, charming, polite, little girl just tooted to match the big boys.  There was laughter, giggling, and a little blushing (due to the inclusion to the 'boys club' of said 9 year old girl).  Then, there was more tooting.  A lot.  How is it that boys can't remember to flush the toilet, turn off a light, brush their teeth (with toothpaste and a toothbrush, at the same time) but can summon flatulence at the drop of a hat?  Seriously. 

The parents were going ghetto and drinking wine out of red plastic cups, and our children were having a farting contest.  It was a proud moment.  But, it really was funny.  And impressive.  Abraham, who features prominently in several of these little blogs, won.  Are you surprised?  Don't be.  He is CRAZY and WILD and apparently the best tooter of the group. 

So the title?  It came from my friend's daughter.  As all the laughing, silliness, and tooting were flying around the table, thankfully without being joined by pizza or pop, she turned to my boys and said, with a look of horror and extreme confusion, "WHERE do you come from?!"  I had to laugh as I have wondered that same thing... often.

The Destroyer

Ok, perhaps calling one of your children "The Destroyer" isn't such a great thing...but it is a difficult when that is what she is.  The Destroyer was busy today.  She has learned to walk, mostly...and is pretty content to play by herself.   She has several favorite items to occupy her time.  None of them being her actual toys. 

Do you ever have days where you feel like all you do is follow children around and clean up after them?  Today was one of those days.  The dolls were out.  Not just out, but spread around the ENTIRE upstairs.  They must have been playing 'dolls intercept a tornado and get flung to the outer parts of the universe'.  Then the tissue box...wow I had NO idea that Kleenex could be shred so small so quickly.  The coasters.  There is just something (apparently) satisfying about the sound they make when with drop off the table for the 437th time.  The balls.  Enough said.  The Tupperware.  (My spell checker says it should be capitol.  I didn't realize Tupperware was a proper name.  What would you call it? Disposable storage container?) What is it about Tupperware and kids?  Don't they know that I am slightly crazy and not to mess with my Tupperware!  The laundry.  Ok, I've complained about the laundry before, but why is it that she has to pull the clean, folded laundry out of the basket and drag it around? Seriously.  I don't know why I care, it's not like the boys are going to actually put it in a drawer before they wear it. 

Even with all these fun things, the two play items I was primarily thinking about today was, 1.  The dog water.  Ivy LOVES the dog water.  Play in it, splash in it, tip it over, probably drink it.  But her absolute favorite thing to do is put the dog's food in it.  Have you ever seen dog food that is bloated by hours of water?  Oh yeah.  Super yummy.  Think pancake in water.  Or bread.  Or let's see...a greasy crouton that has been floating for awhile.  Now, I have discovered over the years (as it seems that they all have gone through this stage) that 1.  If you move the dog food across the room, that helps.  They sort of forget what they are doing holding the dog food.  Well, not Scarlett, she just ate it.  And was allergic to it because it had either milk or eggs in it.  Or both.  I never bothered to look.  Also, not Ivy.  Nope.  She carries it across the room and drops it in.  LOTS of it.  Discovery 2.  Dog food, even when soggy with water does NOT go down the drain.  Don't try it.  You end up picking it out of the drain with your fingers.  Nope, not even a utility sink.  Let me tell you....soaking, soggy, sloppy dog food is not fun to pick out of the drain.  Also, don't dump it outside on a bush.  It does not disappear magically by summer.  This leads to Ivy, aka "The Destroyer's" newest addition to the dog food.  Josh and I were in the kitchen trying to catch up on the day, the older three were watching "Scooby Doo" (which for the record is just as entertaining now as when I was a kid, although I am a bit more jealous of Daphne) and all was silent.  The movie ended, and Josh was headed to the garage when he called me into the laundry room.  Floating happily in the dog's water was a sweet little pair of tennis shoes.  Not one shoe.  Both shoes.  Matching.  Ivy, sneakily crawled into her room, grabbed her shoes, and crawled out with them (or walked, but crawling, with one in her mouth makes a better picture) and dumped them in the water.  There they sat.  Floating happily.  Amongst the dog food.

The Destroyer's other favorite toy right now is similar but far more gross.  Yep.  The toilet.  She loves it.  Tries to get in it, especially when you sit down to pee.  Now, I have taken precautions against this, but either she really likes the potty or she is fairly bright.  Perhaps both, but I am leaning towards the former.  I shut the lid...she opens it.  I take off the potty seat, make sure the light is off and shut the lid.  She apparently loves the dark and opens it.  I shut the door... but, have four children, three of whom are potty trained (although not flush trained) and they just leave the door open.  Tonight, I sent Scarlett in to go potty before bed and she comes flying out in tears because something is wrong in the potty.  Ok, warning...this can mean MANY different scenarios, none good.  I go in to investigate.  Guess what I find.  Bet I'm going to surprise you.  Poop.  Pee.  And a box of those flushable wipes.  The whole box.  Not just a wipe or two, or even 12.  The whole box.  The plastic, pop-up thingy.  Hmmm.  Problem.  That won't flush.  And apparently the poop/pee has been there awhile.  Do I flush and then retrieve, or retrieve then flush?  Leave it for someone else to find?  Is there a door number four? Well, door three is out because, well, I'm thinking I'm it.  I went with option number one and a pair of gloves.  There are some things they should teach in sex ed...but what can you do but laugh until a little bit of pee comes out!

I'm a princess...

We are just coming off Christmas break (thank goodness).  Over the holidays we had some family staying with us; my parents, brother, sister in law, and their daughter Mya.  She is almost exactly the same age as Scarlett, so we were rather excited to get the girls together.

The did so good!  They played and played and played.  I think it was sweet for Scarlett to have a little girl to play with.  She is surrounded by her raucous brothers all the time, so playing dolls, ponies, and princess were a blast.  The girls got along so well, and they enjoyed camping out in Scarlett's room, talking way past their bedtimes. 

A couple of days before Christmas we decided to go out to the mall.  The boys were gone skiing, Josh was working, so we decided to go shopping.  We hit several stores and finally landed at Gymboree.  If you haven't been, I highly recommend it.  Mostly, because they have televisions in there, and little chairs.  The kids are glued to it, and you can actually look around; unfortunately they don't have big people clothes.  Or beverages.  Plus there is only one door out, so you can be reasonably sure they (the children) aren't going to escape. 

April, mom, and myself were browsing away.  All of a sudden, Mya (I think she was first) came screaming up to us, very upset...."Aunt Sarah!!! Scarlett says that I'm not a princess, because she is a princess!"  Right on her heals was Scarlett, "Mama!  Mya says that I'm not a princess, because she is!"  These two sweet little girls where in a fight because they couldn't both be princesses!  It was super cute and highly entertaining!  We actually had to have a discussion as to why they could both be princesses...at the same time.  They could be different ones, or the same ones, it doesn't really matter.  Especially, as they will soon learn, I am the princess...

Laundry Laundry go away...

I am doing laundry.  Again.  I hate laundry.  I don't like collecting it, washing it, drying it, folding it, putting it away.  None of it.  Funny then, that the ministry I do is tied to laundry.  Hmmm, not only do I do it for all six of us, but the pounds? gallons? tubs? whatever measurement you use, it is a LOT, for LION's.  I even have TWO washers and dryers.  How's that for a lifetime achievement?

So, Tuesday and Friday are laundry days here; this being Friday makes it today.  I am three fourths of the way through....as long as you don't count the folding part.  I'm hoping I can bribe the boys.  At least if they just put it away in their drawers I don't know if it is folded or not. 

As I was transferring the clothes in and out, I realized that I have found some pretty crazy stuff in the washer and dryer. Most of it was not mine, although I have to admit some of it was.  Here is a partial list:  mulch, not that unusual, however, the quantity makes it such.  Rocks. Tons, really.  They make a distinctive banging noise, especially on the spin cycle.  Crayons.  This isn't too bad if you catch it in the washer.  If it goes through the dryer, it turns to goo.  I have, however, learned you can use the mulch found in an earlier cycle and scrape the crayola out while it is still warm.  That's the key.  Gummy bears.  Did you know they come out smaller than they go in?  Guess the wash cycle rinses it away.  Yummy.  Paper of course.  Gives credence to "My mom washed my homework" because I probably did.  Chap stick.  This has the unique property of making your clothes, at least in spots, water resistant.  Silverware.  Hmmm.  Marbles, superhero's, race cars, a shoe, gum, chocolate (what a waste), headbands, a hunk of mud that was apparently so large it didn't wash away, hair ties, a watch, money, beads, and today this black, hardish, tar-looking thing.  I have NO idea what is was or where it came from, but I bet Abraham knows!

I have to say that this alone can make laundry tolerable.  I think it is kind of funny the things I have found in their pockets, well, what was in their pockets.  It is a little window on their minds... scary.

There's pee...where?

As I write this, I am starting to wonder why so many of these blogs are about Abraham.  And pee.  Hmmm, I'm thinking this does not bode well for my future.  Or his.  I wouldn't change a single thing about any of my children.  However, with that said, I do wish they would remember to flush the toilet, at least on occasion.  And if it is not too much to ask, perhaps wash their hands.  With soap.  For longer than 2.64 seconds.  But going back to the basics, I guess I should be happy they are peeing in the proper place.  Most of the time. 

There was the peeing contest down the stairs.  The peeing contest off the deck.  Peeing on the trees because that, of course, is far easier than coming in and having to flush.  And wash.  Peeing in the river.  Peeing in the ocean.  Peeing on the bushes with Papa.  Peeing, peeing, peeing.  Even Scarlett has gotten in on the action.  Peeing in the neighbors yard.  On purpose.  We are always talking about it, dealing with it, cleaning it up, holding it, not holding it. 

With all of my experience with pee, this one, at least so far, has to take the cake.  Oh, yes.  It has to do with Abraham.  Of course it does.  I have had a cleaning lady since I broke my ankle about 10 years ago.  She has become a dear friend and knows the kids well.  She is familiar with our house rules and the quirkiness of my children.  While cleaning the boy's rooms, she went to empty the trash.  And found, ta da...pee.  In the trash can.  Imagine her surprise.  And mine when she brought it to my attention.  Don't know how long it had been there.  But there was trash floating in it.  Yummy thought, isn't it.  Seriously?!?  The toilet was only about 4 steps further away and he decided it would be a good idea to pee in the trash can. 

Needless to say, Dorinda did NOT "empty" the trash that day, Abraham did.  As soon as he got home from school I had him empty and scrub the trash can.  He must have agreed with our assessment of GROSS because it has not been repeated.  Yet.  I can only wait with anticipation to find the next unique place that has been used as a toilet. 

What can you do but laugh? Or cry, until a little bit of pee comes out...

Chocolate, with benefits

Earlier this year, we had an old friend come stay with us.  She is from Germany, and I have known her for many years.  We first got to know her on an exchange program when I was about 9 years old.  So, yes, many, many, years.  She was able to come and stay here...I was concerned at first, as I have a very different life than I used to.  I was worried that my kiddo's would drive her nuts.  I was wrong.  She was terrific with them.  She taught me how to cook some German food; spetzela, potato salad, and chocolate cake.  She also brought us some gifts.  Gummi Bears, colored pencils, and of course chocolate.  She brought several really good kinds of chocolate.

We had a great time, and enjoyed seeing each other after all these years.  Josh and I are careful with what we eat, so we were rationing the chocolate.  We stored it in our pantry, and were sure to let the kids have plenty of their candy.  Have I mentioned that Abraham likes candy?  I mean really, really likes candy?

We returned home one night and I decided that I "needed" a little pick me up.  So I went to the pantry to get some chocolate.  Now, I wasn't looking for regular chocolate.  Noooo, I was looking for the special chocolate.  The German kind.  The German kind with alcohol in it.  The kind that we, for obvious resons, didn't share with the children.  The box was sitting there so sweetly; calling my name.  I picked it up.  Opened th box to get a sweet treat, and ....they were GONE.  Every last one.  Of the box of 20 something odd pieces, of which we had eaten about five, there was NONE LEFT.  They had ALCOHOL in them.  I looked through the pantry, nothing.  Asked Josh, got a negative.  Hmmm, searched the kids's snack box.  I did find several unopened pieces of candy, but certainly not the missing 15...more like 3 or 4, and why were they in the kid's snack box?  Hmmmm

It is still a mystery.  However, I have a suspicion that it has to do with my six year old son.  When asked, I shockingly got a negative response.  I'm not holding a lot of stock in that though.  Lesson learned.  Keep the alcohol laced chocolate out of sight and reach of all the children.  If only for selfish reasons.  I don't like to share.  Chocolate or booze. 

Ten (Ok, eleven) things I learned on vacation

We just got back from vacation! It was so much fun...we rented a house on the beach and played in the sand.  We didn't have an agenda, which was really difficult for me at first, but, *sigh*, I resigned myself to laying around.  While we have traveled with the kiddos before, mostly it has been driving trips.  This was the first time we had flown with all four.  I learned many tips on our trip, and thought I would share some of them on here.

1)  Changing air pressure in an airplane when coming from high altitude to low is significant.  And, it is almost impossible to get a screaming child to pop his ears by holding his breath and blowing.  Also, chewing gum doesn't do crap for ear popping but licorice does. 

2) A single piece of licorice can and will repeatedly go down (all the way) the throat of an 11 month old baby.  Especially while landing.

3) Alamo is insistent upon up-selling.  Even with crazy kids running around.  No we don't want the extra insurance.  No we don't want to add the second driver.  No we don't need roadside insurance.  No we don't want to pay to fill up the tank.  No, No, No....we just want the car!  NOW please...

4) After behaving on an airplane for 5 hours, it should be noted that children will NOT behave in a car.  No matter how close to the beach you are.  Or how much screaming goes on.  Or threatening. 

5) Sand should not be thrown.  However, it will be.  No matter how empty the beach, the said sand will be thrown on the nearest adult especially if the nearest adult just said "Don't throw sand."

6)  Sand will end up in every orifice of a child's body.  Said children will then poop sand for at least a week.  Apparently grinding sand in their teeth is an enjoyable activity. 

7)  TV in a bedroom is not a good idea.  We don't have that at home.  It does NOT put them to bed, instead, they stay up to watch it.  Later than I was up.  And then get up early to watch it again.  We have not yet learned the art of sleeping in. 

8)  Going to the zoo when it is 95 degrees and 317 percent humidity is hot.  And humid.  No animal is worth sweating that much for.  Especially birds that attack you to get the food.  I felt like I was in that movie cleverly titled "The Birds".  I swear they were watching me....and they came from no where...

9)  Boogie boarding, while fun when you are 9, should not be attempted when you are over 30.  Even more so with a broken board.  And toe.  Also, having a little experience when you are 9 does not make you an expert.  Before you declare yourself one in front of your sons, you should perhaps see if it is true. 

10)  Sea creatures are yucky to step on.  And sand dollars are cool when they are all dried out.  Not so much when wet.  And they secrete some funky orange stuff that makes you itch.  Nevertheless my wonderful hubby collected 23 of the things for us! 

11) Gotta love Toddies on the beach.  And no, you shouldn't share with the children. 

Asleep Standing Up...Literally

We are getting ready for vacation...and have had a couple of really busy weeks as well.  We've been running around like crazy people (which is probably not going to get better in the near future!).  However, we are mostly packed and ready to go, the boys are gone at a birthday party, so the house is quiet.  Not the usual volume level at all.  I got Ivy down for a nap, and think I'm going to read for a little while before I tackle the last of the laundry.  I try and try and try to get Scarlett to lie down beside me as it's going to be a long day tomorrow.  She doesn't normally take naps anymore, but often on Saturdays I can get her to rest for awhile. 

Nothing doing.  She will have nothing to do with relaxing.  Ok, fine.  So we get up.  I start the laundry.  She and I are just hanging out, talking.  Then she starts to say that her tummy hurts.  More specifically her "belly badge" (courtesy Care Bears) hurts.  I thought this was cute, so we discussed her "belly badge" and what was on it and if she can partake in the "Care Bear STARE"? FYI, it is Hearts, and yes she can. But, it seems to be hurting.  However, this is a common ailment around here and generally an ice pack fixes it.  By now Ivy is awake and screaming, so I send Scarlett in to the kitchen to get her ice pack.  By the time I get diapers changed and baby calmed down, about 5 minuets has gone by.  I come out in the living room looking for Scarlett, and at first can't find her. 

I finally discover her in the office.  Standing, facing the chair, with her head resting on it.  Asleep.  The poor thing literally fell asleep standing up and holding her ice pack.  Yes, I did  move her, and no she didn't wake up.  She'll probably pee on my bed.  Fabulous. 

Milk Weed

Several years ago, well, now it's probably many years ago, I had plants.  This was before my sweet little urchins ripped them to shreds, dug in their dirt, and tried, sometimes successfully, to eat them.  The number of plants has decreased proportially to the number of kids I have.  I am now down to ONE.  I sometimes remember to water it, usually when it is drooping and close to death.  James and I had a discussion one afternoon about how and what plants eat.  I thought it went well, and enjoyed how his little mind was working. 

Several days later I walked into the kitchen.  There was a terrible smell.  So, I took the trash out.  Still stinky.  Sprayed with Lysol.  Still stinky.  Cleaned the garbage disposal, checked the frig, and the pantry.  Still stinky.  Hmmm, running out of options.  So, I started going slowly through the kitchen sniffing as I went. 

My nose, which is not nearly as powerful as my mom's :) lead me to the plant.  Now, the only plant I own is smelling REALLY bad.  Not rotten, just bad.  I'm not sure what to do, but I have to get it out of the house.  So I put it out on the deck, not sure what I was thinking, maybe that whatever it was, I was going to bake it out!  A bit later, James walks by the spot where the plant once stood, and comments on its absense.  I thought that was a bit odd... why would he care.  I have since learned to be quite fearful of those instinctive mommy feelings. 

I asked him about the plant, if he knew why it was smelling bad.  Nope.  Told him I was going to water it, A LOT, in the hopes of flushing out whatever was wrong with it.  Either that or drownding the sucker.  And, I was leaving it on the porch, indefinetly. He said in his sweet little boy voice, that I didn't need to water it.  Why not? I asked him.  Because, mama, I did it!  Now, I'm highly concerned, as he isn't tall enough to reach the faucet...

So, honey, what did you water the plant with?  My MILK he said.  Oh, yeah, that would be the stench eminating from the foliage.  SPOILED MILK.  Well, I guess that's better than pee...