bring it on...

it's been one of those days. More like one of those weeks, but I don't like to whine. I could hardly type that with a straight face.
You know how it is when you clean like a crazy woman and then you turn a corner and realize your house is STILL A COMPLETE PIGSTY? Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Oh and, add to that, pink eye. In both my child and the teenage girl who was supposed to babysit tonight during the 8:40 **PM** conference that I must attend with my girl child's teacher. I believe the 2 instances of pink eye to be unrelated but each puts a special and significant kink in my week. Add to THAT the normal day to day splitting up arguments between children who are never, ever wrong, finding socks that were taken off in 2 different rooms (and we wonder why there are no matches) trying desperately to find mittens and gloves that match because this week Mother Nature decided to turn all winter and shit on us, and let's not forget that 8:40 **PM** conference. I was told to list my 3 choices. I listed 2 times around **6** pm and one time that was in the middle of the day tomorrow. Somehow out of those 3 choices, I was given the obvious one. The one that is the last conference of the day. The day where the teacher has been in conferences since 11 **AM**. Oh, yeah. That's going to be an effective conference.
But I don't like to whine. Really, I don't.

my husband is a genius...

he taught me how to link. It is with joy that I can link you back to this post, or this post, or my personal favorite- this post. Or if I want to embarrass myself again I could link to this post.
If you wanted to buy me a Christmas present, you could look here, or anywhere here.
You want my favorite cookie recipe? Right here it is. Although I personally delete the walnuts. I also found using Heath chips is a fabulous substitution for chocolate chips. You're welcome. What about my nightmare? Right here it is. Wanna see the cool artist I found at a craft show yesterday? Here she is!
How fun is this???? If I had asked him a thousand years ago I could have done this way back then. He gave me the "duh...you don't know how to do that?" look when I asked him about it. Whatever, I never claimed to be a computer geek :)

step away from the seeds...

is it wrong that i want to grow a pumpkin patch next year? OK, but is it wrong if I only want to do it so I can hatchet them open and remove their seeds for roasting? Because, I do **so** love me some pumpkin seeds. In fact there is only one downside to the puking punkin' (also stolen from Janet) (notice a pattern?) (feel free to ask me if I have an original idea floating in my head) (I'll have to ask Janet and get back to you)




it is of course the BLATANT waste and misuse of pumpkin seeds. I have an addiction that only gets fed at the end of October every year. And don't EVEN tell me to try to ones in the grocery store. Not even close.



Happy Halloween!!

color my world...

theiving again from janet. I did it just out of curiousity. Not only is it an accurate description of my me-ness, it's also one of my favorite colors! Go figure!

Click on the link at the bottom and try it your ownself!

you are orchid #DA70D6

Your dominant hues are red and blue. You're confident and like showing people new ideas. You play well with others and can be very influential if you want to be. Your saturation level is lower than average - You don't stress out over things and don't understand people who do. Finishing projects may sometimes be a challenge, but you schedule time as you see fit and the important things all happen in the end, even if not everyone sees your grand master plan. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

i no speaka you language...

i had a light bulb moment this weekend. I was at a mommy-type conference that has tons of great workshops on how to parent. I needed it. I lack parenting skills right now. When I signed up for the conference months ago I noticed they also had a workshop of 'Redefining romance after children'. I signed up for it, not because my sex life sucks, but because after 12+ yrs, who can't use a little re-definition? During the workshop she talked about all the different love languages there are (there are 5 different ones) and how if you don't recognize your own and that of your husband, you're in for disappointment. She started talking about one of her daughters being a "gift-giver". Not meaning that so much that she wants to receive gifts in order to feel loved, but that is how she shows her love. This sort of sounds like buying love at first but then she explained it more or less means when she gives a gift it is her way of saying "I was thinking of you while I was out". To her daughter, that is like saying "I love you" and when she doesn't get the same from other people she gets miffed. LIGHT BULBS GOING OFF. That is SO ME! I absolutely love giving gifts. I am always picking up little things here and there for my mom, for my friends, etc. My feelings get hurt easily though if say...my mom buys a super cute coffee mug somewhere and doesn't get me one. Sounds sort of spoiled rotten-ish, but in my mind I am thinking, "geez, I'd have picked her up a mug if I saw it. I can't believe she didn't think of me!" Believe it or not, I never recognized this about myself. I helps to know that everyone in your life has a different language and to know what it is. I got a lot of other stuff out of that particular workshop, but when it was over I made myself sit down and figure out what each of my kids is, and what Matt is. It really shines a light on a lot of things when you look at it like that. Matt is someone who shows love by touch. This is usually a sticking point for us because, when I am dealing with him, touch often = sex. Plus, since I am home all day with my kids many days are spent with one or more chiclets touching me all day. I can say with 100% certainty that my love language is NOT touch. Sometimes Matt will hug me and I just shake him off. Like if one more person touches me, I'm going to blow. Knowing now that he shows love through touch (and not every touch=sex in his brain) I know now that I need to be a lot more forgiving about it.
I know it sort of sounds a lot like new-age bullshit at first but just think about it.
What are you? What is your husband? Your kids? This is from my notes so it is probably explained better elsewhere. I was told that there is a book on these called Love Languages.
- acts of service (doing good deeds for others)
- words of encouragement
- gift giving
- quality time
- physical touch and closeness- not necessarily sexual.

Just some food for thought :)

new look...

thanks to the almighty and powerful janet...i have a real blog banner!!
How exciting!!!
Back to your regularly scheduled lives.
Oh and **JEN** listen up...
NO CHASING DOGS. SIT DOWN. OR ELSE.

making a dent...

the other day, one of my neighbors made a bizarre comment to me. I had instructed one of my kids to throw their empty pop (soda, whatever) can into the recycle bin in the garage. My neighbor looked at me and asked why we bothered. I'll admit, when we first started recycling, it was because we had to. In Michigan, everyone does it. It isn't like jumping off a bridge because everyone else does it, it's environmentally friendly, and not so hard once you start. And who wants to be the only bozo on the street without a heaping full recycling bin every week? Not me. After spending 6 years in the state up North, we recycle more now out of habit than obligation. Not that we are fantastic about it, but we always fill our collection bin weekly.
Anyway, back to my neighbor. I explained to her that we got into the habit and now it's second-nature for us. I also told her she'd be shocked at how much room it saves in the trash bags. The 4-5 gallons of milk we drink a week take up a lot of space in the trash bags, but crunch down nicely in the recycling bins. She just laughed and said it seems silly. Like my little pile of recyclables are going to make a dent in the overall trash consumption. I was, at that point, almost cross-eyed over her logic but figured there are some people you just can't figure out. Of the 30+ people on our street, we are one of 4 families that recycles. It's sort of sad. We are now the oddballs. Well...in some ways we always have been :) My neighbor asked if we got some kind of discount on our garbage bill because we recycle. Figuring, I guess, that there could be no other reason to do such an ignorant thing. I told her that no, we do not get a discount, but 30 years from now when we are tripping over pop (soda, whatever) cans in the city parks, I'll feel better knowing it isn't MY PERSONAL pop (soda, whatever) can. Mine all got recycled.

fun with global warming....

we are harvesting tomatoes today. Yes, you read that correctly. We are barely a week away from Halloween and we can still grab cherry tomatoes ripe from the vine. Global warming doesn't HAVE to suck. It can be a little fun. I guess.
It will probably be snowing next week for trick-or-treat. And we'll be questioning whether the globe actually is getting warmer or if it's just a big cosmic joke. Welcome to the Midwest.

the girl child turns six...

i cannot wrap my head around the fact that my middle child turned six today. I know I say it every time a child has a milestone in my world, but ACK (!!) where has the time gone???

Hannah is the child who I butt heads with the most. Surprise!! She is my only daughter and my reincarnation (according to my mother). She talks too much. She is dramatic beyond reason. She rolls her eyes at (dramatic eye roll) **EVERYTHING** ( I don't know where she gets it). She is always right. Her brothers are always wrong and always beating her up. You see how abused she is???

And yes, I know, it only gets worse. My mom will tell anyone who will listen that she despised me from age 12 through 19 or so. It's all good. I was an ass. But I could have been worse. I could have acted like my siblings do now. But this is about Hannah, not me and my issues. What issues??

So, the girl child is six, which half way to 12, which is when my own mother officially despised me. I figure we've only got six more good years, and I feel like all we do now is butt heads. This does not bode well for the years of PMS, eh? Hers, not mine (of course- because I am totally normal when I have PMS. I never turn into a raging lunatic. Never.).

She went to bed tonight a bonefide six year old, but not before telling me she was "almost seven". I started to tell her not to wish away her childhood, but then I stopped. It's a waste of breathe, because we all wish away our childhood. We can't wait to hit the next milestone. The double digits of 10, then teenager-hood at 13, then driving at 16, then LEGAL (to do nothing but vote, get married, and serve in the military) at 18, then actual legality at 21. It's all downhill from there. But it's hard to explain that to a six year old. I see so much of myself in her it's almost painful at times. I love her to pieces and I hope she realizes that. Even though I yell a lot. Because I do yell, a lot. I try not to, but I do. It' s hard to parent a child that you know is eventually going to do the same stupid shit that you did. But I always try to remember she is her own person and that she'll do the same stupid shit, and some stupid shit of her own, and she'll also do some really amazing things. She already has.

Happy birthday to my banana. Hope all your wishes come true...

who screwed up my calendar....

how did october creep up so fast? No really, someone at the bus stop said something about Christmas shopping yesterday and it was all I could do to stop myself from plugging my ears and "lalalalalaican'thearyoulalalalala". Because...Christmas shopping???? I don't think I've even completed school clothes shopping yet. I'm so behiiiiiiind. And yes, I'd like some cheese with that whine.
I sat last weekend thinking I had all the time in the world to get Hannah's birthday invites together and then it hit me like a Mack truck that her birthday is a mere 2 weeks away and the invite clock was already ticking. I had to get those suckers in the mail and wait by the phone for RSVPs to start rolling in. Ha. Not that anyone will RSVP. No one does. Not even sure why I put it on the invite. Just for giggles I guess. But really, it turned into October before I was ready for September to be complete. And from previous experience I know that it will be Halloween in approximately 5 minutes, 10 minutes later it is Thanksgiving, then about 2 minutes after that it's Christmas. CHRISTMAS.
Plugging ears, running around in circles, lalalalalalalalaididn'thearthatlalalalalalala.....

me, me, pick me, i can do it!

the last week of my life will forever be known as "the week in which amy-couldn't-stop-raising-her-hand-and-volunteering-for-shit-she'll-never-have-time-for" Did you get all of that?
The third-fourth weeks of school must be the week that the teachers think we have weeded through all of the paperwork they threw at us the first 2 weeks, and so they can begin asking us for spare time.
I volunteered. And I volunteered. And I volunteered. And then because I was bored, I volunteered some more.
I am now doing about 6 jobs for Justin's school PTO throughout the year, volunteering in Hannah's class bi-weekly, am serving on the board for the preschool, am also the assistant/question answerer during the Monday night dance classes. This is a sampling. There's more. We've previously discussed my lack of ability in the saying "no" department. I obviously lack a time management skill somewhere also. I think I have a problem with sitting still. ADHD anyone? If I am continuously volunteering for something, I'm never just sitting on my hands with nothing to do. Sadly, at least once a week I am spinning in circles trying to figure out how I am going to get it all done. And then my head explodes and I have that to clean that mess up. But, boredom? No, not dealing with that much these days.

all in the name...

totally thieving from janet. I saw this and laughed my ass off :)

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car), John Wayne Uplander- sounds all cool Bon Jovi, yes?

2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie), Coffee Oatmeal Chocolate Chip. It's all good, yo. That's how I roll

3. YOUR “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name), A-MOH Hmmm... I gots to think on that one.

4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal), Lavender Manatee. That one is going to make it into the next Stephanie Plum story line. I just KNOW it!

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born), Joy Columbus. Not one you'll be seeing on Days Of Our Lives anytime soon methinks

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first), Moham. I believe that makes me one of the desert sand dwellers that wears a hood??

7. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink), The Lime Green Margarita. Oh yes...she's my hero.

8. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers), Robert Jack. But I think he'd be Bobby Jack in the Nascar world.

9. STRIPPER NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy), Chance Kit Kat. This would also double as my porn star name I do believe.

10.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names ), Joy Lynn. You didn't see me here....

11. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter), Hood Houston. Wasn't he in the Anchorman movie? I'm sure he was Vince Vaughn's character's weatherman.

12. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower). Autumn Lilac. Oh yeah...great spy name. It's Lilac, Autumn Lilac. I'll have my margarita on the rocks. Shaken, but not so hard that the ice melts.

13. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie” or “y”) Apple Pantsie. I think she was in the collection of recalled Chinese made Mattel dolls.

14. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree), Nothing Buckeye. Groovy man, totally groovy.

15. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”), The Scrapping Rain Tour. Makes me want to go stand in line for tickets right now. This one is SURE to sell out quick-like.

holy filth, batman...

i cleaned the van out today. Some scary shit, I tell ya. I did it because I was out with a friend this weekend who was apologizing PROFUSELY for how filthy her van was. Except my van was way filthier than hers. I figured if she was so horrified about the condition of her van, she would die a thousand deaths if she was ever forced to sit in my van. So I guess that means it's time to clean it out.
Here's a small sampling of what I found:
3 empty french fry bags.
2 empty Happy Meal bags
186 (only a small exaggeration) Happy Meal toys
12 french fries
4 chicken nuggets in various states of decomposition (that's for you Jen)
1 realization that we eat too much McDonald's
8 stuffed animals
3 bags to carry stuffed animals to the van and then leave them there
4 water bottles
5 clean pairs of socks (??? do we keep them in the van???))
2 dirty pairs of socks
3 pairs of Ryan's underwear (clean thankyouverymuch)
9 broken crayons
6098 hot wheels
9 million Pokemon cards
8 books
2 empty DVD boxes
5 empty M&M bags- all next to Hannah's seat- can you say chocoholic?
12 pony tail holders- no wonder I can never find them in the house.
enough loose change to make a dent in the national debt-but curiously not our own debt.

And that's just a sample. It was seriously trashed. It's amazing how stuff can pile up. I generally let Hannah have the back row of seats to herself because she's somewhat of a slob and I hate for the boys to have to clear a space to sit down every time among her stuffed animal collection and M&M wrappers. So I tend to let the back row get pretty bad before I notice something has to be done. I think I may have let it go a smidge too long this time :)

only me...

i have never wanted to do pilates or yoga in a class environment. Not because I don't think I can do it. I'm pretty athletic. I'm also pretty stretchy. No, the reason I have always shyed away from doing them in a class environment is because both of these classes cause you to twist like a pretzel and in doing so, I'm pretty sure I'll fart. But me, being the brave soul that I am thought to myself, "self...if you can get through the Winsor pilates video at home without expressing gas, you'll be fine in the class!" Silly girl! And I CAN make it through the video. Well, for the most part. Except for that one part in the advanced video- the rollover- where you lay on your back with your legs straight out in front of you. You pick them up and roll them up and over your head, so that you lying there with your ass straight up in the air and your feet are suspended over your head. While in this position, you have to have enough control to open your legs to a "V" and and then close them and then roll back down so that you're laying flat again. People, I fart EVERY TIME I try it. But, alas, my friend assures me there is nothing that advanced in this class. She assures me. Except today we had a different teacher. Our other teacher doesn't do the Wed. class and we didn't know that having never made it in on a Wed. This new teacher does advanced moves. Ones like say...the rollover. And oh yes, Amy farted. Amy farted LOUD. What else can one do, when one farts obnoxiously loud while one lies ass up in the air? Laugh. Hysterically, until there are tears rolling down thine face.
I don't know if I'll ever be able to show my face in the Wed class again, but I'm going to work on controlling sphincter as well as core muscles while doing the rollover at home until next week.

live vicariously through me...at your own risk...

so yesterday, during my 2 hours of PEACE (!!) and QUIET (!!) while ryan was at school i cleaned. Yes... that's right. I cleaned. A friend of mine, who was at work, called me sometime in the middle to ask what I was doing. She told me she was living vicariously through me. She has to work, I do not. I am ever so lucky. She was disappointed when I told her I had just finished mopping the kitchen floor and was off to clean toilets in a moment. It's a sad statement of my life. But since I'm so lucky and I don't have to work (catch the dripping sarcasm) this is what I do in my "free" time. But really, I got to mop the floor and I got to actually see it all the way clean. Most of the time as I am mopping someone is tracking grass, dirt, mud, etc behind me as I go. Same with the toilets. It was a solid hour before someone peed in them and ruined their pristine clean-ness. It was a thing of beauty, but apparently not worthy of living vicariously and all that madness. She'd rather be at work than cleaning toilets. Who knew? I also cleaned my eldest son's fish tank. The fish thanks me because the algae was thick and he wasn't sure he'd ever see the light of day again. Justin, however, did not notice the clean tank. He instead noticed that I failed to clean the ceramic shark that lives in the tank. Like, it sounded sort of like this...good job mom. It looks pretty good I guess, but next time do it properly and see the job through to completion. Clean the ceramic shark too.
I'm allowing him to live because it will now and forever be his job to clean his fish tank. Ceramic shark and all.

sadness...

You will be so very missed.

and then there were none...

do you hear the hallelujah chorus? Listen closely... no wait a second, what is that again? Oh...it's SILENCE...

Ryan is off to preschool today. I'm a little choked up about it. Not because he's going to school because, please, the silence? Yes...I am enjoying the silence. No, it's more that it seems like it was mere days ago that he was this...

Now he's all light sabers, catching crickets bare-handed, picking boogers, farting bubbles in the bathtub, mouthing off, and this...

At the risk of sounding like a 90 year old granny, where has the time gone???

kindergarten, baby...

so hannah had her first day of kindergarten on friday. Because she is the oft forgotten middle child, and I am 'that mom' I am posting her pictures two days later instead of the day of, like I did for my first born. What can I say? I had to squeeze in two nights of my high school reunion this weekend, and there were margaritas involved, and well Jose and I.... Anyway, I am getting caught up on life today. And sobering up for the coming week. The week in which my youngest offspring goes to PRESCHOOL. My grandma said to me last week that I wouldn't know what to do with myself during those precious hours when all of my children are GONE. AT SCHOOL. But I think a high calorie Starbucks beverage is calling my name this Tuesday morning. A coffee that I can drink in solitude. With no one asking me to put a different movie in the DVD, or asking to do art projects involving scissors, playdoh, or paint.
Anyway...back to Hannah...

I offer a pictorial of her bus stop experience...

Before leaving the house... pose...Ms. Diva First-Day-of-School-Girl

At the bus stop...telling all of the other kids to BACK OFF, because this is my 'get on the bus moment' and didn't anyone tell you to get in a line and wait your turn? I already know how to do EVERYTHING the right way, because I already know how to do EVERYTHING. I probably don't even NEED to go to school today because, really, what can they teach me that I don't ALREADY KNOW??...

On the bus...pose again...did you get that shot mom? Bus driver do NOT roll your eyes at me. I need this documented in my scrapbook.

I had another shot of the bus pulling away but blogger won't let me upload more than 3 pictures and really there is no way to illustrate the silence that surrounded us all when my sweet little know-it-all got on the bus finally and the driver closed the door. I won't lie. I was a little misty eyed. Which is more than I thought I would be. I was worried I would look like the only heart-less, cold parent standing at the bus stop not boo-hooing over my child heading off to kindergarten. I love Hannah, but you know how silence is golden at the movie theaters? It's platinum at this house. And because Hannah likes to see how many words she can squeeze into every day, there is not much platinum around here. Now there are 3 solid hours of platinum every weekday morning. Ryan doesn't quite have the need to fill every moment with words the way his sister does.

Next up...Ryan first day of school pictures and then it will back to posts filled with toilet cleaning stories and musings on my love of swiffer.

it's all good....

for the first time in justin's school career, there were no tears on the first day. The only waterworks we saw was the pouring rain that threatened to ruin any chance of good bus stop pictures. No more jitters. Like, WHATEVER mom. It's not a big deal. Put the camera away already. There was much eyerolling at the bus stop when I whipped out my camera. Because GAWD....you're so embarrassing mom! I guess that means you won't kiss me good bye then? He's a grown up. No need for the kiss and hugs and definitely no need for the ol' good luck on your first day sweetie!!

Geez mom....

a year of nonsense...

so i just realized i've been at this blog thing for a year now. Happy Blog-iversary to me :) Most of what I have written over the last year is boring, ho-hum, just life in general stuff. I'm still glad I've kept it up regardless of how many times I've written something truly yawn inducing. I never keep up with the real-life journaling thing, for some reason this is easier to me. I can still go back and look at, and laugh at some of the stuff my family has done over the last year. Things I may have forgotten about already. In the end it's good to get a comment now and then about something I write that says "hey...yeah...me too!" Or have Matt come home from work and tell me he laughed at whatever I wrote that day. So I'll keep on sharing the ho-hum. At least for now!

trading spaces challenged.....

there are people in this world who should be blocked from having TLC or DIY networks on their TVs. The woman who is the former owner of this house, Nimrod*, was a lover of these channels. I don't know that for a fact, but as we delve deeper into living in this house day-to-day, it is the only rational explanation for the things we find. I think she spent her days watching episodes of Trading Spaces on the DVR and thinking to herself, "hey, I can do THAT! I'm going to try it right now!" I wish I could've shouted at her then. "NOOOO! STOP!" The designers on Trading Spaces are DESIGNERS. Not stay at home moms who are bored, but have a spare paint roller in the basement and money to burn on the Home Depot credit card. She was a huge fan of 'decorative' painting styles. She talked at our closing last year about being so sad to leave all of her hard work in tastefully painted rooms behind. I wish I could've gift wrapped her warped sense of painting style and sent it Priority Mail to her new home. Because for a year I have been looking at the walls and cursing them. Knowing what a huge pain in the ass it was going to be to try to fix what Nimrod had done. Every wall needing new paint has to be primed. Why? Because she favors HIGH GLOSS ENAMEL. Favors it, but doesn't think to prime between the layers and layers of different colors of high gloss on the walls. End result? Peeling chunks of paints in fabulous shades of neon pink, urine yellow, and army green. And that's just Hannah's room. Her room is the worst so we're starting there. Why anyone puts high gloss on their walls is beyond me. Maybe she wanted to be able to see her reflection when she walked in the room and couldn't afford a mirror. I'm not sure.
Just add it to the list of reasons why I can't look them in the face anymore when they come and visit their friends in the old 'hood. I wave and quickly walk in the house to avoid eye contact. I fear should I ever be forced to speak to either of the former owners, I'll start spewing venom. In reality I just want to tell her that she is neither Hildi, Doug, Or Laurie, and that Frank would cry if he could see what she's done to the walls of this house. Because the next walls I will tackle involve CRACKLE FINISH. Seriously. It's on the walls. Isn't crackle finish for furniture only? Or is that just what I've heard? I think I want to invite Frank over just so I can see him roll his eyes. And then he can personally tell her that she should child lock TLC on her cable box.

*Not her real name. I wanted to protect her true identity so that the 3 people who read this blog don't know the asshat's real name.

so this is normal...

you just have to laugh. When someone calls you to chat and starts talking about how psycho her kids have been lately. So you pepper her stories with some of your own psycho kid babble. And then you both share an Oprah style lightbulb moment. Wait...so it's normal? The stuff my psycho kids are doing is NORMAL? Hmmm.... I'll save that thought for later when I'm ready to list Hannah on e-bay.

at least she's honest...

hannah just came trooping into the house with another girl from her collection of 5 year old friends. Not the same one from the other day. A different one whom I've discussed before (see: "hate to say I told ya so") (Oh how I wish I knew how to link to previous posts). This is the one from her collection who makes me twitch the most when I see her heading in the direction of my home. She's a little too Eddie Haskell for my taste. Did I just age myself or what?
Anyway, as they were coming through the door I told Hannah that whichever portion of the house that they should choose to destroy today, she should keep somewhere in the forefront of her brain that it would have to be cleaned up when they were done. She looked at her little friend and asked if she would help her clean it up and her friend looked right at her and said no. And then walked upstairs.
All I can say to Hannah is, "don't say she didn't warn you"

christmas in august...

i know you're all on the edge of your seats wondering if hannah cleaned up her messes yesterday. She did. As soon as her friend left, I pointed her in the direction of the basement. There was MUCH foot stomping, teeth gnashing, and groaning about how completely unfair her life was. I told her she was right, it was unfair, but such is life. I know. My compassion overwhelms. I stood at the top of the stairs and listened for what I knew was coming next. The flopping of her (clearly) abused self on the floor and commencing of waterworks. It took a few minutes for it to take full bloom, but when it did, I stood at the top of the stairs and informed her that she wasn't coming up until the basement looked like it did when she went down. If that meant she needed to continue crying for several hours and then get it done, so be it. I can wait it out. I got the standard comeback, " I just can't DOOOO it. It's too much for me all by myself!" I stifled a smile (I know, again, I lack compassion) and told her that if it felt like too much she should think about that next time she has a friend over and they decide to get every single toy out. I also told her that I wasn't budging on the original plan of not letting her leave until it was finished. Then because it's the kind of mom I am, I reminded her that she also had a bedroom to clean up and if she wanted to be able to leave the house again this week, she had better get on it.
There was more grumbling. But 1/2 hr later she staggered up the stairs (she's all about the drama) and said I could look. I did my inspection and gave her a few more things to do before it was done. She finished those things and then to my surprise came up the stairs smiling and PROUD of herself for getting it done. Then she went off to tackle her bedroom. She also managed to get it presentable again. Without turning on the tears for full-effect again. I was astounded. It worked. With a little screaming (from me and her) and a little perseverance, I got her to clean up after herself.
It's a Christmas miracle. God bless us, every one.

help me with this one...

why are 5 year old girls so much more dangerous than 5 year old boys? Or is it just MY particular 5 year old girl? I don't think so. Now knowing my fair share of 5 year old girls, I find them all to be similar in temperament. Meaning bratty, selfish, know-it-all, etc. Or is it just mine? Really, be honest. I spent the better part of the morning cleaning up after my little darling whirlwind. She spent the night with a friend so she was gone this morning. Meaning I can clean up her mess without her destroying it in my wake. It lasted a total of 10 minutes after she entered our residence. 10 solid minutes. I walked into her room a mere few minutes after she came home and her room looked like world war III. Again. I also spent an hour putting the basement back together this morning. She and her friend completely. trashed. it. It looks like it hasn't been cleaned in months and I just. did. it. this. morning. ***sighing heavily***
My experience with my boys is similar, but decidedly different. They can trash a room in 5 minutes flat also, but if you ask them to pick it up, they will. Without the hormonal outbursts so common with their sister. I told her that she was responsible for basement clean up. I know that it won't get done without tears. I don't know how to fix this issue. Same with her room.
I have these apparent choices...
1. continue to clean it up. I then run the risk of ending up cleaning her nasty bedroom well into her teen years (example: my mother)
2. make her clean up her disaster. I then run the risk of having to listen to her screeching about the unfairness of life in general. At the top of her lungs. This is especially problematic because I also run the risk of the neighbors calling child services because she is OBVIOUSLY being abused.
3. take all of her toys away. I tried this and it NEVER WORKS. I just removed all of her Barbies a few weeks ago because I was tired of vacuuming their shoes and having to pick their little blonde selves up. When she found out I thought the screeching would ensue. Nope. She just shrugged her shoulders and played with something else. Yes, she is spoiled. Yes, she has too many toys.
4. Let her live in her own filth like a pig and hope she grows out of it. Close the door if we have guests.

Not sure which of these options is most viable. All have their own merits and all have obvious set backs as well.
Maybe I'll just sell her to the gypsies for a nickel.

not very blog-worthy...

so much going on and at the same time, not a whole lot. My parents (scratch that- MY WHOLE FAMILY EXCEPT ME) (but I'm not bitter) were on vacation for 11 days and I was stationed as dog watcher at their house. Suffice it to say it was not the best run I have ever had over there and I've had some bad ones. I got the flu over the last 3 days that I was there and it was just sort of the rancid icing on a really stale cake. Not fun. But I'm not bitter. Once they came home I had 1 day to prepare for Carol and Scott's arrival. I didn't care that I was rushed and not feeling well. I knew we would have fun, so I just kept my focus there. And we did have a total blast at the lake. I just love that house. I also just love those people. The 4 of us had about a million and 1/2 laughs all wrapped into 3 wonderful days. They left on Sunday and Justin had his adenoid/tonsillectomy scheduled for Monday. That has gone off without a hitch thus far. He is healing and not hardly whiny at all. I love that boy.
More on the surgery... there is nothing more heart-wrenching than to watch your child be wheeled away for surgery. Any surgery. He was very, VERY loopy from the excellent drugs they gave him. Like his mama, excellent drugs=emotional train wreck. He was all dopey and grinning until the nurse came to wheel him off then he looked at me with these begging, watery eyes as if to say "don't let them take me away mama". It was all I could do not to dissolve into a puddle of mommy goo on the floor. In the end it was all OK, but yeeks, I hated that part.
Now, because my parents are plotting to drive me to the brink of insanity, tomorrow they leave for a dog show and I'll be stationed at their house until Sunday. Praying that this whole recovery thing continues as is. Although since MY WHOLE FAMILY won't be at the dog show, like they were in Florida, at least I'll have help.

hate to say i told ya so...

everyone on this street (well almost everyone) knows i got poison ivy and where i got it. Right in my front flower bed. I got it and still have it. It's a breed of poison ivy that apparently doesn't like to just go away. However, I have made it clear to parents and children alike that our front flower bed may not be a good spot to play in. Not that it ever was, but don't say I didn't warn you.
As a side note, one of the little girls who plays here on a regular basis has a nasty habit. If she needs to potty, she does so anywhere. Like in my back yard, next to the swing set, in my flower beds, etc. She doesn't bother to find a bush, she just drops trow and goes. I understand the need to do this on the emergency basis, however we have more than one working toilet in this house and I have urged her to either come in and use one. She doesn't. She prefers wide open spaces apparently. She even does it when we have guests over. I have had to step over many the dropped jaw of my friends who were over for dinner and had to witness her bare-assed in the middle of my yard, urinating.
Do you see where the side note is coming full circle? I told her not to do it. More than once, but she peed in my front flower bed one day and now her little tush is covered in poison ivy. A breed of poison ivy that doesn't go away all quick like. It sticks around for a good, long time.
I told you not to do it. Maybe it will be a lesson learned?

cardio...morning style...

i am not a lover of the morning. Not even a smidge, do I love it. A friend has been egging me to workout with her in the mornings and for weeks I have rolled my eyes at her and ignored, to the best of my ability, her ignorant morning workout plan. Because seriously? Me... the morning...we don't get along. However, I have been trying and failing to get to the gym in the evening for over a week now. I think my foot is healed enough to take a pounding. I NEEEEEEED to take a pounding myself. So my brain starts with this dialog. "maybe if you went in the morning, you'd actually go" "you'd be done before the kids even wake up" "think of all the energy you'd have" "if she is picking you up, you have to get out of bed"
My brain is saying all this and I am wrinkling my nose and throwing a face because, me...the morning... not so much. I also knew I shouldn't say outloud what my brain is saying because that might seem like I was agreeing and I WAS NOT because, me... the morning... have we already been over this??
She mentioned it again last Friday and I finally said "ALRIGHT ALREADY! I'll get with your ignorant morning fitness plan. Pick me up at 6:30 on Monday." Both her husband and my own looked at each other, looked at us, and then laughed. Because...well we don't DO mornings.
But we did. We bitched the entire way to the gym. Seriously, the entire way. We both looked like hell on a bad day. But we did it anyway. We survived. And it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. And I can't believe I just said that. Not only did we survive... brace yourself for this... have a seat if you are weak in the knees... we are going to do it AGAIN TOMORROW.
You know why? Because we both said we would. The beauty is, my house is on the way to the gym for her, so she said she'd pick me up. That means if she doesn't feel like getting up, she has to because she said she would pick me up. Same goes for me. I told her I'd be waiting at the door, so I have to be.
I can't believe I actually did it.

step away from the chocolate and no one gets hurt...

PMS is a bitch. A bitch that is only sweetened with chocolate. Lots of it. What can I say? I must feed the monster...

i *heart* the 4th of july...

i always have been a big fan. It's always been high on my list of favorite holidays. I love the cookouts and all of the stuff that goes along with it. When I was a kid, my parents always had a huge bash on the 4th. All of the kids in attendance would take off somewhere in the middle and go to the carnival that was a few blocks from our house. We'd eat fair food until we were vomit-ous and then park ourselves on the street somewhere that was blocked off and watch the fireworks. Then we'd hike back to my house where our parents were all in good moods enhanced by Budweiser so we could get away with more. In this day and age we'd never be allowed to go to the carnival by ourselves. One or two of the parents who drew the short straws would have to leave the party and watch the kids and we wouldn't have had anywhere near as much fun. We were probably 12 the first time they let us go to that carnival alone. Like I said, it would NEVER happen now. But, gawd, it was so much fun.
This year we spent the 3rd out at Buckeye Lake. Matt's sister and her husband bought a house out there last summer that I am currently in love with. It is the perfect little lake house and Buckeye Lake is a blast. They bought a pontoon boat towards the end of the summer last year and it sealed the deal for me. I love to pontoon :) The fireworks over the lake were awesome! Made even better by the fact that we were full of fabulous food while we watched. The plans we had for the 4th had to get a last minute shift because one of our friends had sick kids. We ended up going to my family's house for a cookout, then came home. Our neighbor was having a huge party and all of the neighbors were there, so we put Ryan to bed and walked next door to chat while Justin and Hannah ran with the kids until they fell over from exhaustion. They spent the better part of the evening catching fireflies. And they had a fabulous time. All of us parents marveled at how we used to do the very same thing. And then poke holes in the jars so we could keep them forever to light our rooms. Only to find them dead in the jar in the morning. Justin found the same thing to be the case. I think it is a rite of childhood passage to catch fireflies.
All in all it was a really fun holiday. No carnival, so no elephant ears, but also no nasty toothless carnies leering at my 5 year old daughter. Times they do change, and so does my idea of fun!

irrational...

when hannah was small (er) we marveled at how fearless she was. Justin was the total opposite. He would try things slowly. I never had to worry about him jumping or climbing on things that were too high, he was my little chicken man. Hannah was a different breed. She climbed to the tallest rocks and jumped off. She was always hanging like a monkey off of furniture. She'd try anything once. Sometime in the last month she switched a gear and I can't un-switch it. I noticed it the first time in her gymnastics class. They wanted her to hang from a bar and she flat out refused. Bizarre. Then she was swinging from the rings on our swingset and I tried to show her how to let go upside down. She went apeshit, screaming no at me. My sister and I shared a puzzled look. Any other time she'd have been begging me to show her. It has gotten progressively worse. Now it's about water. She won't go in the pool. We started swimming lessons this week and Mon. it was a joke. Tues was a little better. We missed Wed. because of dentist appts and today she was back to clinging to the side of the pool and refusing to FLOAT ON HER BACK WITH THE INSTRUCTORS HELP. That's right. In 3'6" of water she is afraid to attempt a float with someone holding onto her. This is my fearless-wonder child. Even at the dentist yesterday she said she was afraid. She's been before and actually enjoyed it, so I don't get it. She got a haircut today. Before we walked in she whispered to me, "mom...what if it hurts?" WHAT!!??!! I'm trying to be patient but it's infuriating to me. She is acting like a complete chicken over everything and it's just not normal for her. Plus...no one else can have fun at the pool because she is terrified. Clinging to the edge of the pool. In 3'6" of water. That she can TOTALLY stand up in. I'm sure it's a phase. At least that's what everyone keeps saying, but God help me if she doesn't work through it quick like I'm going to lose my rocks. I found my self screaming at her this morning to get it together. At the top of my voice I'm screeching at her "you will go to swimming lessons, because it's fun and you will eventually enjoy it!" Yeah mom, that's helpful. I wanted to eat my words or at least the tone in which I screamed them at her as soon as they left my mouth. I hate that I yelled at her and I hate that I lost my patience. It just seems like very piece of our life now is covered by "but what if it's scary?" I have no answers. Sometimes life is scary. Hell, I'm scared to open my mailbox and look at the ever mounting stack of bills every day. This swimming thing just baffles me. She's had lessons before. We didn't do much swimming last summer because of the chaos that was our life in the summer of '06, but should that have turned her into a total chicken?
Any words of wisdom on chicken children and working through this not-so-fun phase of childhood would be greatly appreciated.

fun was had by all...

we had a blast. We knew we would. Our friends always take glorious care of us. Although... even just an evening in the backyard with the kids playing and all of us eating, chatting, drinking... really it couldn't be any better than that. Oh and IKEA. I sing the praises of Ikea once again. Where else can you buy an end table that is living room worthy (in our home anyways!!) for $12.99. No, seriously. It was $12.99. I remember going there the first time with Janet and being absolutely floored by the cheap-ness of it all. I bought end tables then and thought to myself "self... for under $15 even if these tables only last for one year it was worth it." I am now replacing that same table with one in a different color. 5 years later. I'd say we got our full $12.99 out of them. And really? It's wonderful because I don't have to be one of those people who twitch if you don't put a coaster under your drink.
So we're back 'down south' again. We miss our Northern friends, but not our old neighborhood. We drove past the old house and the new owners don't seem to be giving it much love. It isn't horrifying, just sad. We saw our old neighbors. Our kids loved them, we did not. They haven't changed a bit. The kids were happy to see them so that was nice. We just drove away shaking our heads and being thankful to be out of the neighborhood. The house across the street is still for sale. Has been for 2 years now. We were lucky to escape when we did. It was a nice awakening though. With all the quirks that our new neighborhood and set of neighbors has to offer, we are MUCH happier in our new surroundings. If it wasn't such a long drive to visit friends, it would be perfection. Though still, even though we have been separated by so many miles and months, we fell back into laughing, chatting, whining about our kids and husbands, etc...just like the old days. It was a good weekend indeed.

headed north...

we are off to visit michigan this weekend. Since my beloved trip to Canada had to be sidelined this year, we had a blank weekend on the calendar. No such thing as a 'do-nothing' weekend in this family so we decided to fill our blank weekend with a trip to visit Michigan buddies. To say the kids are psyched is an extreme understatement. I don't think anyone will ever replace their Michigan friends in their heads. They have friends here now, but they still look at the pictures of their Michigan buddies with longing and talk about them constantly. Hannah still has a bulletin board in her room full of pictures of herself, Dana, & Kaitlyn. And who am I kidding? I miss them all too! Matt had to be prodded into the trip, because he (unlike myself) is all about an empty space on the calendar. Don't get me wrong, I love me some unscheduled time, but this weekend was just perfect for an escape. I figured the best way to spend it doing whatever we wanted, was to go somewhere else and GET AWAY. Now that's it's all planned and set up, Matt is really psyched about it too. We always have a blast when we all get together and our kids play incredibly well together.
So, now I have to spend today getting everything set up here at home. Making feeding instructions for the pets and getting their cages/tanks/litterbox/whatever else cleaned so the my sister doesn't have to deal with anything icky. Plus getting laundry together, packing, and getting all the kids stuff together. The list is never-ending, but I'm just so excited to go!! I don't even care!! Plus...there is the possibility of a trip to IKEA!! Did I mention IKEA??!!
So we're off for the weekend. Hope the weekend is wonderful in your spot too!

the grind...

as a mom who stays home, like has no job, is "just a mom", occasionally i get in a funk. One of those those I-never-get-to-do-anything-for-myself-my-sole-purpose-is-to-serve-others kind of funks. It doesn't help that with my right foot being down, I haven't driven in 2 1/2 weeks (until Monday when I was forced to because I had to drive to the Dr to get a shot in my ass because I had poison ivy, but I digress) It still is painful to drive because having my foot at the angle that one needs to push the gas pedal, is just not comfy yet. But tolerable. Anyhow... yesterday I was supposed to get my haircut. I am so looking forward to this for many reasons. Most of them because my hair looks like crap right now, but also? I wanted some "me time". Selfish? Probably. But I've only been out of the house ALONE (meaning without a child attached to me) to go to weight watchers in the past 2 1/2 wks. and I really wanted to be ALONE for say, an hour. The appt. was at 7, so I just had to have a husband in place to take over my job by 6:30. And 6:30 was pushing it so I asked if he could shoot for 6:20 to give me plenty of time. No problem he says. Then he shows up at 6:40 sputtering excuses about traffic. I'm sure it was traffic involved, but being that there was no WAY I could make it there in 20 min, I had to cancel my appt. And I was not a happy mama. In fact I didn't speak (nicely) to him for the rest of the evening. Selfish? Probably. But damn. I just wanted a haircut. Now it's going to be another week or so before I can do it again. The only other thing she had in the evening this week was a 6:30 appt and let's face it, if he couldn't get home in time for a 7:00 appt odds aren't good that I'll make it there a 1/2 hr earlier.
And so...last night I was evil. And angry. And feeling like my whole purpose on this earth is to serve others and does anyone care about me?? So the children and husband steered clear of me and the black cloud hanging over my head. I went to bed early and feel marginally better about my lot in life today. I do love my "just a mom" position. I just wish I had a provision in my contract for personal time. Personal time that didn't always have to involve Dr appts. I'd like personal time that involved me ALONE for say... 1 hour. And a professional with a pair of scissors that can make me look like Reese Witherspoon in Sweet Home Alabama. I know I'm asking a lot.

bring it on...

so we're off with a bang. Never a dull moment 'round these parts. We spent the weekend tearing out bushes, because I am not a big evergreen bush fan. Can't say why, but I just am not a fan. So now they're gone and I have a big empty flower bed to plan. Most of it won't get done until the fall now when I can split hostas and daylilies, so I have time to look at stuff and plan. While we were tearing out bushes we came across a vine that was growing up and through 2 of the bushes. I saw it a month ago and tore some of it out. This weekend I tore the rest of it out. All the men, who were helping tear out the bushes, jumped away as if it were a deadly snake. It was just a vine. Of poison ivy. The shit doesn't scare me. **I** am not allergic to it. I tried to get out of staying at a heinous camp one summer by rolling in it to no avail. I just got really dirty, not a blister at all. I have torn it out of places my whole life, never a blister. As I mentioned earlier, I took some of it out just a month ago. Again, no blister. Because **I** am not allergic to it. Except...now apparently I am. I look like Will Smith from the movie Hitch. It isn't anywhere on me except my face. My eye is swollen, my upper lip looks like I got Angelina Jolie lip injections. Just my upper lip mind you, not the lower one. Oh Yeah. It's sexy. I went to the Dr. this afternoon and was informed it is also in my ears and throat. But...I'm not allergic!!! Why did this happen? It's this little thing called "your 30s". Never had acne? Now you do! Like a teenager! Never had allergies? Now you do! You lucky bitch! Along with these fun things you also get raging hormones that are out of control. Suh-weet! I just can't wait for peri-menopause in my 40s!!!
And so to recap the summer so far...
-sprained ligaments in the foot
-poison ivy all over the face requiring a cortisone injection

what next???

On the bright side all the kids are playing well with all the other neighboring kids and everyone seems content with the summer so far. No one has gotten too booooooooored yet.

ho hum....

really...there is so little going on i don't have much to blog about. I got poked and prodded for a fun update, but there is nothing fun here. I hurt my foot a week and 1/2 ago. Fun! It's in one of those menacing looking black boots now and everyone gasps at it and asks me what I did. Then they wait. Expecting some really cool thing I was doing when I hurt it. Well...I was walking. And then my ankle gave out and I wasn't walking anymore. There was lots of popping, cracking, tearing, etc. Now I can't walk on it. The end. Then they say, "Seriously? You were just walking?" So I ask, am I the only one who has that freak, ankle-not-working-suddenly- and-turning-underneath-me-thing? Because it happens to me all the time, but maybe I am alone. Maybe I have weak ankles? Maybe I'm just a klutz? Either way, it was a boring accident, just me being klutzy. Now I just have to wait until I can put weight on it again without screaming in agony. Because, really? I don't have time for crutches.
So there's my glowing update. Wasn't it fun?

someone remind me....

sometime mid-late July, when I am screaming about how long the summer is. Someone tap me on the shoulder. Tap me and remind me about how much I despise school mornings. Remind me that I definitely despise school mornings MORE than I despise long summer days full of angry children who hate breathing the same air as their siblings. Even those days when I hear someone say for the 1000 billionth time that day "I'm so bored!" or "This house is so boring" or "we never do anything fun" or any combination of those 3.
Because trying to get out the door and to the bus without killing one of my children is by far worse than any long, horrible summer day. Long, horrible summer days are easily fixed by a margarita or a beer, or both.

conquer this...

laundry sucks my will to live. No really. It does. There is ALWAYS laundry to be done. I have done laundry all day today. Washed it, dried it, folded it, found closet or drawer space for it. All fuh-reaking day. Now there is a small pile of laundry in the laundry room that is too small to be washed. Our drawers and closets are bursting with freshly laundered clothes. There is a serious lack of hangers. This should give me a feeling of accomplishment, right? It doesn't, because it's one of those chores that always regenerates itself in the blink of an eye. Tomorrow morning there will magically be a pile of laundry to be washed that resembles Mt. Vesuvius. Dirty clothes are like bunnies. You blink and where once there was 1 dirty sock, now there are 47. Not 48 because that would mean all the socks had matches. Not a possibility.

glowing....

i was almost embarrassed of myself last night. I was glowing, bouncing, etc. just acting like a fool. In front of people. I hit my goal at weight watchers last night. Go ahead with the applause, I'll wait :) ...................................


I thought I could remain calm and cool about it, but I acted like a 3 year old. This is something I have worked toward since I gave birth to Justin. I got really close to goal before I got pregnant with Ryan, but then after I had him, my body chose to hang on to the weight awhile. And I helped it out a little. Or a lot. But I finally got to the point this past winter where I couldn't take it anymore, so I put my foot down. And damn... it was hard. Cut out all the food I love. Cut out alcohol. Exercise more. None of this was easy. But I did it. I can now go to the Dr's office and be weighed and not wince. Also? they don't have to slide that menacing 150 lb marker across the bar before they can even start to gauge my weight. That was always a pet peeve of mine. I hate that 150 lb bar. And now I can engage in a little beer and not have it ruin a whole week for me.
I still have few pounds to get off before I am completely happy. Plus I have to make it through 6 wks of "maintenance" with weight watchers before I get my lifetime member status. But in the meantime, I can see myself in a new light. I catch glimpses of myself in store windows and doors and think I don't look 1/2 bad instead of gagging and thinking that can't be me. It's a good feeling. Even if I did make a total dork out of myself at weight watchers last night. It's all good.

update already...

for real. Not much in the way of excitement going on here. I have started and deleted at least 10 posts because, yawn, who cares???
We've just been busy with all of the stuff we're always busy with. For some reason everything on the planet gets scheduled in May & June. Not sure why that is, but ask any mom with school age kids and she'll say the same thing. This month is CRAMMED and it doesn't stop until mid-June when all the graduation parties cease to happen. I am looking forward to the lazy days of summer. Not that they will be lazy by any stretch since every neighborhood child will be at my house ('cause it's the fun house don't ya know?) but at least we won't be doing the morning rush to get ready for school.
You still with me? Told ya it's boring here. Go ahead and yawn. I'll wait....
Let's see, I got the info for my 15 yr class reunion in the mail yesterday. I know, who has a 15 yr reunion? I've been asked that every time I've mentioned it. I think it's because we had a blast at the 10 yr. No really, we did. Or maybe just I did? Whatever, they scheduled a 15 yr too. I hopped onto classmates.com to see what was up on the message board that was set up for the reunion stuff. Nothing was up, but I did find all the info on my very best friend in the world while I was growing up. I shot her an e-mail and hoped the e-mail address on classmates was right. We lived across the street from each other and were best friends all through elementary school and Junior High. She got shipped off to a private school for the first year of HS and we grew apart. Freshman year of HS is a tough time to be separated and we were doing different things with different people. Then my family moved to a new house and we just lost touch. I haven't seen her in probably 12 yrs now, but we spent last night e-mailing back and forth. She lives about 5 miles from me and we probably shop the same Target. Small world! I'm excited to get back together with her.
Other than that.... hmmm.... there's been soccer, dance, gymnastics, baseball, karate....a lot of spinning in circles and drawing straws to see who got to drag Ryan along to what. Poor Ry. Sucks to be the short straw. OH! we had Justin's root canal last week. What else???? HEY!! are you yawning?? I warned you it's been boring.
I'll post some cute dance recital pictures next week. Maybe that will liven things up around here?

to all my favorite moms out there...

in gearing up for mother's day, this one made me laugh out loud. Most of these answers sound like they came straight from my house!

Why God Made Moms

Answers given by 2nd grade school children (8 year olds) to the following questions:

Why did God make mothers?
1. She's the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.

How did God make mothers?
1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my Mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.


What ingredients are mothers made of?
1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men's bones. Then they mostly use string, I think.


Why did God give you Your mother & not some other mom?
1. We're related!
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people's moms like me.


What kind of little girl was your mom?
1. My Mom has always been my Mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I don't know because I wasn't there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.


What did Mom need to know about dad before she married him?
1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer? Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?


Why did your Mom marry your dad?
1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world and my Mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that Mom didn't have her thinking cap on.


Who's the boss at your house?
1. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because dad's such a goofball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.


What's the difference between Moms & dads?
1. Moms work at work and work at home & dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller & stronger, but Moms have all the real power 'cause that's who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friend's.
4. Moms have magic; they make you feel better without medicine.

What does your Mom do in her spare time?
1. Mothers don't do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.


What would it take to make your Mom perfect?
1. On the inside she's already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know her hair. I'd diet, maybe blue.

If you could change one thing about your Mom, what would it be?
1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I'd get rid of that.
2. I'd make my Mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on the back of her head.

the good part...

the good part about having a to-do list as long as my arm, is the aftermath. When I cross a chunk of the items off and I feel tremendous accomplishment. Or when I get something done and can sit back and marvel at my own crafty-ness. Or someone else marvels at my crafty-ness and says to me, "you MADE this??" I will admit to a little head swelling when someone can't believe how unbelievably cool something is that I made with my own 2 hands. Or when my very good friend tells me what a huge weight I have lifted off of her shoulders by helping her with something. She's busier than I am, but would help me at a moment's notice if she could. It feels good that I can do the same for her. Even if by lifting her burden, I gave myself some burden. I think somewhere, somehow it all evens out.
I am a helper by nature. Do I allow people to use me sometimes? Yes. It's just the way I am. I've said before I don't know how to say no. But sometimes I get a really great end result feeling because I said yes, and helped out with something. I think that makes my stress level even out and makes me feel like a good person.

independence...

each of my children has gone through this stage. With Justin I was still a control freak (well more of one anyway) and I had a hard time letting him do things "by mineself". I knew it would cause a huge mess. With Hannah I loosened grip a little because she would throw a huge fit and scream unless I let her do it. Whatever. Now, that Ry is shifting into the stage I just let go of the reigns. Because, frankly? I'm tired. Does he make a mess? But of course. It's his job. So far this morning he has wanted 2,3,4 more waffles. He counts like that every time he wants more. "I want 2, 3, 4 more mama!" And it's so cute! He wants to get the waffles out of the freezer but as he's trying to get them out they crumble. Mess #1. Then he wants to put them in the toaster. He brings what is leftover to the garbage and spills 1/2 of it on the floor. Waffle pieces and syrup = mess #2. Then he brings his cup of chocolate milk to the sink. And misses. Mess # 3. But instead of freaking out, I'm just happy that he's trying to bring his dishes to the sink without being reminded 12 times like his older sibs.
Of course during the day I hear nothing but "No! **I** do it!". Well, that and the strains of the different Star Wars songs that he hums ALL DAY LONG. But all I can think about is how he has gone from baby to kid-like in a matter of a few weeks. Like putting on a pair of undies has suddenly changed his attitude. He doesn't want his Spiderman fork anymore. He wants the "big fork". I guess this means I can soon clean out the section of our silverware drawer that has housed our kid-sized forks and spoons for 7 yrs now.
It's good and bad. He's the last one to enter into the independence phase. The last one.

a new game of TAG....

janet tagged me for one i've never seen before! How exciting :)

You have to use your first initial for every category, and you can't use your own name for the boy/girl name. Got it? GO!

SCATTERGORIES...it's harder than it looks!
Your Name: Amy
1. Famous Singer/Band: ABBA
2. 4 letter word: aqua
3. Color: apricot
4. Street: Asbury
5. Gifts/Presents: airplane ticket (not a gift I get often enough!)
6. Vehicle: Avalanche
7. Things in a Souvenir Shop: art (crap art usually, but art)
8. Boy Name: Alan
9. Girl Name: Alicia
10. Movie Title: All Dogs Go To Heaven
11. Drink: Adirondack margarita
12. Occupation: Architect
13. Flower: Amaryllis
14. Celebrity: Angelina Jolie
15. Magazine: All about Beer (just saw it on Tues and was amazed that such a magazine existed!)
16. U.S. City: Amarillo
17. Pro Sports Teams: Anaheim Angels (don't I get double points for this?)
18. Fruit: Apple
19. Reason for Being Late for Work: Alarm clock didn't go off
20. Something You Throw Away: ads (from the newspaper? I'm reaching)
21. Things You Shout: Asshole!!
22. Cartoon Character: Ariel (Little Mermaid- does that count???)

That was HARD!!! I don't know how people did stuff like this before Google existed.

I'm tagging Jen (who can't use Janet's blog answers!!) and Elle who hasn't updated her blog since it was snowing. GO!

control freak...

a list of things i wish i had some control over....

- weather - rain in particular right now

- my daughter's room

- my youngest son's clothing choice

- my oldest son's tonsils

- laundry

- my neighbors. they think they are still in high school and it is irritating

- the money tree in the backyard

- the price of airfare

- the price of fuel

- the price of tea in China (not really but it sounded good right there)

- my brother's college choice

- the amount of fat & calories in my favorite foods

I could go on forever. I think I have control issues today.

there's never enough...

it's a bad attitude to live with. I'm slowly trying to change, but it's hard. Matt and I wasted 1/2 hour of our lives last night talking about what kind of hardwood floors we want and where we want to go with it. It's laughable and a total waste of time because unless the damn money tree starts blooming soon (I think the Spring frost killed the damn thing AGAIN) it'll be years before we can put hardwood anywhere. And, I think, I'm OK with it. There will always be things we want to do to the house. Vacations we want to go on. Things we want to buy. Because what we have is never enough. Except? It is right now. I am content in life. I have the house I have always wanted to have. I have a husband who makes me laugh and who laughs at me. I have kids who other people think are cute & actually want to have over to visit (they don't know the REAL Hannah). All that AND a front loading washer and dryer!!
Would I love to be vacationing on the beach with my toes in the sand this summer? Hell yes! Will I be happy with vacationing at my sister in law's lake house? Indeed! It'll be fun and ridiculously cheap.
It's all about attitude. I can spend my days thinking about everything I want or reveling in all I have. Because...seriously? I am a lucky, lucky girl. I'm going to revel in what I have and be thankful for my blessings. After that, I'm going to fold laundry :)

new people...

a house sold on our street about 6 doors down from us. It is my sincere hope that they have a boy about Ryan's age and that they are normal and fun people. Is that too much to ask? I feel sort of bad for Ry. He had built in buddies in Michigan. He often sits and looks at our photo album (not yet scrapbooked- like I have time for that!) and points at Wooke (Luke) and Josh. He remembers them and can't figure out why after seeing them many times during the week before, now we got months without getting to play with them. Everyone else got new friends their age when we moved onto this street. Sadly, there is no one Ry's age. He really needs a friend. I know next fall, when he starts preschool, he'll find one. There is still a loooong summer stretching out before us until then, so if it wouldn't be too much to ask I'd love for the new neighbors to have a 3-ish year old boy. I'm sort of stalking the house in hopes of seeing things going from the truck and into the house that scream toddler boy, but so far no dice. I'm not losing hope yet.
Maybe if I hope hard enough I can make it happen.

the many faces of my gut...

i have mommy gut. In more ways than the obvious one. It used to be a fat gut. Now it is less fat but is more like a blob of wrinkly skin. Go ahead. Click the x and move on now if you are gagging over the thought of my blobby, wrinkly, mommy gut. I forgive you. It grosses me smack out too. But, I figure gross, blobby, & wrinkly is better than what it used to be which is full-o-fat.
What else is mommy gut? It's that instinct that you get the moment a child emerges from said gut. When you just know something isn't right. Woman's intuition ain't got nothin' on mommy gut. My gut has screamed at me the last 2 times I have been at the pediatrician's office and a few times before that it was speaking loudly. I ignored it before, today I am not. I am divorcing my pediatrician. It's a scary thought for me. I don't know why. It isn't like a have a long-standing relationship with her, but it's still hard to pack up, grab your medical records, and move on. She is somewhat of a flake and I have been forgiving for a long time, because flaky doesn't necessarily equal a crap doctor. Today she crossed the line between flake and flat out ignorant and even crossed the lazy doctor threshold a little. Ignorant and lazy is a no-can-do for me. Not where the chiclets are concerned. I drove home listening to my gut scream obscenities about going to the gym and doing some crunches already, but not before you switch pediatricians, you ignorant woman! Gotta listen when the gut starts in with the obscenities.
I should have listened 2 visits ago, when it rose from a dull roar to a scream. Next time, I'll know. Listen to the mommy gut already! It isn't pretty, but it's smart. Isn't that the way of the world?

seven days...

so, the day after his birthday, Ryan decided it was "time". He picked out a pair of Star Wars underwear without being prompted. I picked my jaw up off of the ground and went with it. Mine is not to question. It has now officially been 7 whole days since I changed a diaper. Can you feel the glee?? It's been more then 7 years since I could say that I haven't changed a diaper in a week- except while on vacation. In my real, every day world this is new and a source of utter joy. He has had very few accidents- maybe 3 or 4 over the week. And the best thing???? The poop was never an issue. My other 2 were totally freaked over the concept of #2 in the potty. Ryan, on the other hand, takes pride in the size of it. He doesn't just poop, he poops big! Men! I do distinctly remember Justin coming to me and making me look at the "snake" he made in the potty once. Aren't boys fun?
So, in our household we are making grocery lists that don't include Pampers. And we are skipping about it! I don't have to be a slave to the diaper bag anymore!!!
OH- and you're welcome for this daily dose of poop talk :)

my cup runneth over...

i have entirely too much shit to do. I have a serious problem saying no and it is getting me in trouble. Not so much in trouble, but it is causing me stress, angst, panic. All those fun things that make me lose my temper faster and feel like an ass for yelling at my kids for no good reason. I am in snap mode today. I hate that feeling.
Now, on top of all the fun & crafty projects I have been delegated recently, I have to figure out how to NOT help my son and husband bake a fun cake for Tiger Scouts next week. It has to be done on Fri evening. Thurs nights are packed with stuff already so when does it get baked? Decorated? No one knows when it will happen. But I am NOT ALLOWED to help. It's a father/son project. What it really is, is a project to make me twitch because it's NOT MY RESPONSIBILITY. Matt's going to take care of it. M-kay. Just not sure how or when it's going to get done, but again, not my problem. I just have to clean the mess up.
Did I mention I'm stressed? Or that I am ready to snap?
Anyone else have any crafty projects that only I am capable of doing? Bring em' on!!! I have nothing better to do!!

thoughts on my baby turning 3...

it's funny to me that I still think of him as 'my baby'. I wonder if this will still be true when he is 17 and hairy. I think back to potty training Justin at this exact same age and in my head, Ryan just seems so much younger. Except that he isn't. Weird. He is less of a baby every day. He's always been an opinionated little dude. Now he just lets you know that it's his way or the highway. No exceptions. He won't be as easy to potty train as Justin and Hannah were. They just accepted it to be fact that it was "time" and there were "no more diapers". Ryan says to me, "not yet" and "go buy more diapers, you cheap bastard" OK. He didn't actually call me a cheap bastard but it was implied in his tone. I think he knows I'm tired of purchasing Pampers. I'm certain he knows I'm tired of changing his poopy diapers, but it's my concern not his. And why should he want to take over wiping his own butt when it is clearly not an enjoyable task for me? Makes sense when you think of it from his perspective. He's obviously extremely intelligent.

Happy Birthday to my little dude. Thanks for being just who you are. You make me smile and cringe every day and I wouldn't want it any other way!

dear mother nature...

normally, i am not one to bitch about the weather. HA!! I can't even say that with a straight face. I bitch ENDLESSLY about the weather. However, Mother Nature, I feel that since you too are a mother you should see that what you have done here is just wrong on so many levels. My children just endured a week of spring break where there was only a glimpse of spring. You tease us into wearing shorts and bearing legs that are so pale white they may be deemed "clear", then you blast us with winter again. Why? Why do you do this to us? Is it some deal you have with the winter dudes that you have to get so many inches in before it's over? If that's the case, can you see to it that next year it is a lower number of inches? Or, is it that you think we'll miss the snow? Because seriously? That's going to be a no for me. Even living in Arizona didn't make me miss snow. I certainly won't miss it for the few short months that it goes away here in Ohio.
You gave me trees full of blossoms on Mon. that were dead on Wed. Why???? Don't you want it to be pretty? I don't CARE that it makes me husband sneeze. It's so pretty!
In short, Mother Nature, my children will hunt for Easter eggs tomorrow in their winter coats. Enough is enough. Let us have spring before I start feeling the need to get ugly on you. Ask Matt, you don't want me to get ugly.

to anyone worried about justin's well-being...

he is alive and well and currently playing mario kart on his nintendo....

'give me a minute' literally means 60 seconds to a 7 yr old...

i need to remind myself from time to time how literal Justin can be. Sometimes it's funny. Sometimes it makes me want to send him to live with distant relatives. Today he wanted me to look in a bag in the top of his closet for the charger for his gameboy. I didn't want to climb to the top of his closet so I told him to make sure it wasn't plugged into the wall next to his bed where it always is. 3-5 seconds later he returned and said it wasn't plugged into the wall, and could I look in his closet please? *BIG SIGH* "I'm in the middle of something, give me a minute." I kid you not, my little sweet red head waited 64 seconds before saying to me, "mom it's been one minute and 4 seconds and you haven't done it yet." Then I killed him and buried him in the backyard. Luckily the ground was still soft from the rain.
No really, I didn't. And if I did do you think I would post it on the internet?? Geez people! But I did throw some things and rant my way up the stairs to his closet. I jerked the bag that he wanted down off the shelf and as I was turning to rant some more about having patience and blah, blah, blah, what did I spy? Oh, yes, you guessed it! His charger. Plugged into the wall next to his bed where I told him to look for it a mere 2.3 minutes earlier. OOOPS was his response. Then I killed him and buried him in the backyard.
I'm going to go warm up with some afternoon coffee and Bailey's now.

happy things...

stuff is blooming! This makes me ridiculously giddy. Add to that, the fact that I had no idea this tree would bloom with flowers in the Spring. It's like a gift from God just for me :) I figure by this time next week this tree will be covered with these little blooms. It will be beautiful, but seeing this first flower today makes it the most beautiful of them all!

note to the carpool line professionals at my son's school...

i'm sorry already!!! I didn't mean to be the moron going the wrong way in line. My child got sick at the end of the school day so I HAD to go to the school at that time of day. I've never done carpool at this school and I know now that it is serious business and not to be taken lightly. To the lady in the light blue mini van who honked at me: I was just trying to get to the parking lot to get inside the school. I was in no way, shape, or form trying to ditch you in line. To the redneck guy with the mullet in the red pickup: screw you buddy. If I hadn't had my other 2 children in the car, I would've rolled my window down and instructed you on just where you could stick your middle finger for best results. You fucking fucker.
Note to self: learn the carpool rules at the beginning of the year next time. You never know when you might have to fight your way through that chaos.

american idol musings....

so here I am, engrossed in whatever season of idol we're on this year. I refused to watch the first season because I thought the whole premise of the show was ignorant. Then I heard Kelly Clarkson sing and I was hooked. I love her. Anyway...I started watching every year. And every year about 1/2 way through I say "huh?" Because some freak continues to get through. I believe the first time I noticed it was the dorky red head dude that thought he was Sinatra. Then I heard about the cult following of votefortheworst.com (I wish I could make it an actual link, but I am illiterate). Once you visit that site it all makes sense. Because seriously? Sanjaya? No question he is the website's lovechild this season. Even Gwen Stefani wasn't sure what to do with him. Now, if Micheal Jackson ever does the guest spot, I think he'll know EXACTLY what to do with Sanjaya. EXACTLY. I mean Simon Cowell doesn't even make fun of him anymore. He's just speechless. The rest of us are too, Simon.
Other than the oddity of Sanjaya, this season I am bothered by some other stuff. Like- is it just me, or are Phil's eyebrows being applied with a black Magic Marker? And also, does Melinda have a neck? These are the things I pondered while watching last night. I no longer try to figure out who will make it to the Finals. It's a crap shoot. I did worry a little bit last night that one of Lakisha's breasts was going to escape her dress, but she managed to keep them in check.
But it's all about the singing, folks. Really it is. :)
Back to your regularly scheduled lives. But seriously... why didn't Gwen bring Gavin with her last night? It would've been lovely to see him in the audience!

choose your battles wisely....

life is full of choices. Some good, some bad. Parenthood is all about them. Each choice has a consequence and you have to wager the choice/consequence battle in your head multiple times every day. A very wise mama bear (my own) told me long ago that I needed to choose my battles wisely. In my former life, I refused to lose a battle. In this life, this mama life I lead now, I must lose the occasional battle. It is a thing that eats at me a lot. I'm not one to give up power struggles or control easily. However when faced with 3 small children, my life would be hell if I didn't give up control once in awhile. So sometimes, when everything in my brain is screaming "NO!!" I have to say yes. It's not easy. Yesterday Hannah and her pack of buddies wanted to make gloop. With mud. Although I was sure of the consequence, I said OK. ~~Mistake!~~ RED FLAG!~~ Turn back!~~ I'm certain they had fun, but what I had to clean up last night was so far from fun, I couldn't see the fun lining anywhere. Hannah is the child I choose battles with most often. She is my only girl and my middle child, so the deck is very stacked against us. I knew yesterday if I listened to my gut and said "hells no" when she asked to make gloop (and at least she asked) it would turn into a WWIII tragedy. It's just her way. So instead, I said yes and cleaned up the mess later, all the while telling her if it ever happened again, she'd be the one cleaning up the mess. Only in my head I know making her clean up the mess would only cause an even bigger mess. Hence, a battle I will never win. I HATE that.
But...in this mama life I lead, sometimes I have to say yes and act like a fun mom. Even though my gut always says "no! do you know what a HUGE-MONGUS mess that is going to make?" Mess can be cleaned up later. Mama life is all about fun and messes. And loss of control. It makes me twitch just thinking about it :)

no more what ifs....

there is a definite sense of finality in our home now. It's very weird. As soon as I gave birth to Ryan and they had to whisk him away to help him breathe in much the same manner that they did my first 2 children, I knew in my heart that I was done giving birth. Ry had the worst first week of life that any of them did. It seemed that whatever it was my body does to my babies just before birth that makes them have an obscure fever, low respiration, and general sleepy demeanor, was getting worse with each kid. Why take the chance that the next would be any worse? Aside from that, we definitely had the sense of "complete" after him. At least I did. I no longer felt like someone was missing. Probably because Ry is enough action for 3 kids on most days. We have been talking since then about the 'big snip' it just always seemed to get put off for one reason or another. Well it is put off no more. I won't say the v-word because Matt says I need to stop telling everyone about it. I'm not embarrassed, but for some reason he is, so I'll just leave you guessing about the v-word I am speaking of. Needless to say it is v-word that involves a lack of fertility in men :) But you didn't hear it from me.
So last night, 24 hrs post procedure, Matt looks over at me and says, "how does it feel to know you'll never worry about getting pregnant again?" And it hit me. Like a Mack truck, it hit me. Don't get me wrong, I didn't lose it and start crying over the child that will never be. But it was the first time I was washed over with that wave of finality. I don't know what I felt, it was just a weirdness. Knowing I'll never have to pee on a stick and cross my fingers again. It's just a weirdness. I don't know any other way to explain what it is.

10 things i love....

1. jeans that are so baggy that I can take them off without un-buttoning them

2. finding out someone I love is pregnant

3. knowing it's not me :)

4. Ryan's troublemaker grin

5. shar pei kisses

6. finding out that both of my youngest children will be in school at the same time next year

7. catching a glimpse of myself in a mirror and thinking I don't look half bad anymore

8. the sun shining outside

9. guinea pigs who love to play with dogs & dogs who tolerate pigs.

10. pedicures

Happy Wednesday to all :)

whatever you do, don't look down...

a little more on the serious side of life. How many times are you driving down the road, minding your own business and your cell phone rings so you lean over to pick it up? Or you want to switch CDs or movies for the chiclets, or grab something rolling around between your feet? So you glance down for a split second and when you glance back up you've crossed the median. Your heart stops for a split second and you thank God that there wasn't a monster SUV or a semi on the other side, as you jerk your car back into your lane. Admit it, we all do it. Today, a co-worker of my dad's is praying for the life of his 17 year old son because his son took his eyes off the road for a split second and when he glanced back up there was a Suburban staring back at him. And he couldn't jerk back into his lane fast enough. Last I heard he was clinging to life and his parents were told that if he doesn't make a marked improvement in the next 24 hrs they should consider pulling the plug on his young life. How's that for a punch in the gut? It isn't even your child and it makes you feel sick, doesn't it?
I can't even bear to let my brain go there. I have to cling to hope that nothing of the sort will ever happen to my kids because, seriously? I am not the person who could keep going on through a disaster like that. I would crumble if something horrible ever happened to one of my kids. Or a family member, or friend. I would crumble. So please, say a prayer for Joel's son. Pray that his parents don't have to make that decision and that he improves over the rest of today and tomorrow. And for my mental stability, promise me you won't look down while driving. Keep your eyes on the road. It's a scary place out there folks.