So close, yet Zzzzzzzz

The other day Brett was sitting with me at the compy and we were scrolling through the LOLCats when we came across this submission.




He reads it and then asks what narcoleptic means. I explain and then scroll down to the next one. Brett's brain clearly didn't scroll with me.

"So, these people, they just, fall asleep?"

"Yup."

"And they do this like at work or at school, like in the middle of a test or a boring subject?"

"Yup."

"And is it something you can catch, like the chicken pox or poison ivy?"

"No, I'm not sure what causes, maybe genetics, but it's nothing you could catch from exposure. You either have it or you don't."

"Oh. Never mind then."

Brettism Hump Day! Funny 15 minutes later

During the visit over the fourth of July, Robert took quite a liking to all of the kids, but particularly to Emma. He'd raised three sons from his first marriage when he and my aunt had Elizabeth and I think he has a soft spot for little girls.

We're all sitting down to dinner and Emma is reveling in her new admirer.

"Emma, I call Elizabeth my 'Special' because she's my special one, I only have one daughter. But you can be my 'Number 2 Special', how is that?", Robert says.

Before Emma can reply Brett looks over and says drolly, "I thought that was General Tso's chicken."

Tweet!

A few months ago I got an invitation from geekie brother to "follow" him on Twitter. I had no clue what in the heck that meant, but he rarely forwards me anything, much less crap, so I figured it was worth taking a look.

Good old Wikipedia says...

"Twitter is a free social networking and micro-blogging service that allows users to send updates (otherwise known as tweets) which are text-based posts of up to 140 characters in length."

I kind of mentally rolled my eyes at first, I mean, I really don't need something else to keep up with online. But since it was Mathew-approved I signed up anyway, figuring I could cancel it when the novelty wore off.

The things is, now it's one of my favorite things about the good old interwebben. Chatting on IM is great, but when one of you is busy, it can take forever. And I have a horrible time talking on the phone. I never have the time to sit and formulate a whole conversation worth of thought, not to mention the noise level at our house scares most callers off. In fact, when Mathew does call, he initiates it by saying in his best Hannibal Lecter voice "Hello Clarice, are the children still screaming?"

But Twitter is like a no-brainer. I also downloaded the Twitterific application which shows my tweets in a little IM-style box so I don't have to keep the Twitter site up in a window all day. I pop on a few times a day, jot down what's going on in my life at the moment, and take a second to read what everyone else is up to, then get back to the grind of real life.

It also satisfies my inner voyeur, because you can follow and get "tweets" from people that you don't even really know. I love reading Tracey from Sweetney's tweets, there's a human side to her that you don't always get on the more polished blog posts.

I keep up with another certain blogging goddess, some good friends, the groovy ladies who did the splog design at Ruby and Roja, and even the uber-cool chic who took the kids pictures. People I normally wouldn't talk to on a regular basis and now I get to peep (no pun intended) into their lives.

I'd love to have more people to follow in my new Twitter obsession, if you tweet, you can add me; my ID is HelloClarice

And yes, the children are still screaming.

The best is yet to come

Last week Curt's grandmother called and asked if we had any plans for Sunday night, as she'd like to have us down for dinner. Truth be told, I could have major surgery scheduled and would clear the calender to be able to accept one of her invitations.

Not only is she one of the best cooks on the planet, but she manages to make every meal an experience. The table is always set with nice linen, real silver, and fine china, even if the meal is just sandwiches. And no meal is complete without a sinful, homemade dessert. She's old school in the best way possible.

Curt and I were in the kitchen helping her do the dishes and yet again complimenting her on her cooking. She smiles and says that after dinner Grandpa often says to her "Jean, this was the second best meal you've ever cooked for me."

"What was the first?" I ask.

Grandma grins, "He tells me we haven't had that one yet."

Brettism Hump Day! All wet

Weather permitting we've been spending a lot of time in the pool. The kids are becoming pretty good swimmers, but Lucas and Emma can still get a little off course when swimming underwater. This afternoon Brett pops up indignant.

"Hey Lucas! You just put your freaking head right into my butt!"

Luke pops up, apologizes and swims away.

Brett shrugs "That's okay, it was a nice change from everyone else telling me that I have my own head up my butt."

Better than the dog we never had

I'm starting to think that Ellie was a billy goat in a previous life . Aside from having to be vigilant about removing odd bits from her mouth, she's taken to procuring food on her own too. Last week I came back from the bathroom to hear Evan tell me "I feeding Elles da Belles!". And there she was, happily slurping on the noodles Evan was flinging to the floor with wild abandon.

This morning I had my back turned to make Ellie's breakfast and Evan loudly proclaims "Elles eating the DAMN CRACKERS again!" Who needs applesauce and baby cereal when there are handfuls of these tasty graham crackers just sitting right there in the cabinet?





She gets points for self sufficiency, right?

Lunch-Club

Most nights, cooking dinner for eight is more work than getting Lindsay Lohan dried out. And even though I enjoy cooking, it is still tantamount to producing a buffet line for an Army platoon.

And with school out, every day at 11 I look around to find 6 hungry mouths, hanging open baby-bird style. They're getting pretty burnt out on my sandwich repertoire, and I can't say I blame them; I was in my late twenties before I could stare a PB&J sandwich in the face again and not want to eat paste instead. Only what do you fix for lunch every. single. day. to satisfy everyone and not end up feeling like a short order cook?

The answer my friends, is passing the buck. I've been letting the kids invent their own lunches and prepare them solo, with mommy supervision. Sure, it's a huge mess and I usually have to run the dishwasher twice in a day, but I figure aside from retaining some mommy sanity, it gives the kids some hands on experience in the kitchen.

And they love it. English muffin pizzas, grilled cheese and ham, simple pasta dishes, omelets, and even just re-heating leftovers are exciting when the kitchen is your oyster.

Yesterday Brett was helping Lucas make his first omelet, carefully explaining when to add the cheese and how to fold it. Lucas, giddy with excitement turned to Brett and gave him a bear hug.

"Whoa Lucas! I must have forgotten to tell you that the first rule about omelet making is that we don't need to hug about omelet making."

Yesterday, a recap

• After a week of the three E's succombing to fevers, mystery rashes, and sore throats, we finally get a diagnosis of hand, foot, and mouth disease. And it can kiss my ass.
• I spent a good portion of the morning uncomfortable until I realized that I was wearing my thong sideways. I wish I could tell you that this was an isolated incident, but alas, I did it two weeks ago too. This takes a special kind of stupid. Please send brain cells ASAP.
• I successfully completed four SuDoKu puzzles from the Peanut's puzzle book that I purloined from Lucas, while comforting Emma on the couch. And those puppies were hard too, three out of five Snoopys.
  
• Spent 35 minutes online chatting with Overstock.com rep as the sheets I bought THREE WEEKS ago already have blown elastic. They're taking them back and if I'm feeling generous, I'll even wash them first.
  
• Ordered new sheets online, although not from Overstock. If you are reading this honey, I got plain boring cream coloured ones this time. Yes, sometimes I do listen when you complain. I'm still not going to serve meatloaf every night though.
• Counted, in my very best Sesame-Street-Count-voice, 15 freaking steps that my baby took. My baby. The one who will be a year old next month. *sobs* Oh, and Ellie? Could we please talk about this sippy cup thing, because mommy would like her boobs back soon. Daddy too.
  
• Spent a lovely hour after dinner in the pool with the family. Afterward the men-folk took off for the farm to help unload hay bales, and the girls and I climbed into the big tub and styled our hair in shampoo. As it turns out, I look pretty hot in a mo-hawk.
• Finally got the babies settled in bed last night in time to watch Bravo's final season of Project Runway. The holiest of all hours in my mommy week.
  
• Just before Lucas trots off to bed, he informs me that he feels "Really, really hot. And my throat like, hurts. A lot."
• Well kids: 2 Coxsackie stricken kids: 4
• Said adieu to Tim Gunn, had a beer, and went to bed.
  

Brettism Hump Day! Tastes like shoe leather

Last Friday Bio-dad stopped by with his roommate to see the kids on their way to a canoe trip. His roommate John is rather notorious for being a serial monogamist. And by serial, I mean I lost count two wives ago.

Of course Brett picks up on this and never fails to bring it up to John.

"Hey John, remember when you told me that you had to beat the ladies off with a stick?" he asks, after noticing John feverishly text'ing someone.

John chuckles, "Yeah, that's not so much a problem anymore."

Brett, oblivious and very serious replies, "What, did they start taking a closer look at you?"

All the better to give you noogies

In the summer months we often buzz the boys' hair. It's cooler, cleaner, and also saves us some duckets each month. And before Lucas started singing "If you want my body..." I knew we needed to get cutting. So yesterday Curt took the older three out onto the deck in turn and clipped them.

Only this time, Evan begged to be included. We usually take Evan to the barber just because the boy has more cow licks than an average dairy farm. But he was pretty insistent and we figured, it's just hair, right?



Curt and I kept staring at him in wonder all day, as if our son had been replaced by this new strange person, more kid than toddler. We also couldn't help but remark, that with no hair, he looked more like Ellie than we'd noticed before.



Evan thought it was the coolest, and kept going to the mirror to look and rubbing his pate. Later, he hopped up on the couch and sat on Brett's shoulders, absentmindedly feeling Brett's head too.




It started out peacefully, but pretty soon there was tickling. And then Michael decided to get in on the action.




And then we had a bonafide pile-up.



I don't have pictures of the rest of the melee, because like any good mother, I set down the camera and started showing off some of my best moves.

Don't worry, we already have the therapy fund started.

I have no recollection of ever having sex with Rod Stewart

But the evidence begs to differ...

Brettism Hump Day! Older, not so much wiser.

Monday morning Brett had a doctor's appointment so we set out. We're sitting in the waiting room watching Evan entertain himself when Brett remarks "You know, I remember when I was Evan's age."

"Oh you do, hunh?"

"Yeah, it was all pooping, goofing off, and more pooping."

"Nice Brett. And how exactly is this different from your days now?"

"I'm taller."

A disclaimer, for serious

Despite the crappy Bumfark weather, our fourth was actually pretty great. We had family come up and it was one long blur of eating, laughing, and nipple chewing. Okay, that last one was mostly just Ellie. *Ouch!*

However, before I share these photos I have to tell you that I took none of them. Not a one. In all of the hullabaloo I completely forgot to dig my camera out of the pile of crap on the compy desk. And then I looked over and noticed that Robert was snapping away, capturing every moment as if it were going to be shared on a splog. Ahem.

Anyway, because he's Robert, I got the following email from him yesterday.

HI, Caroline and Curt. Thank you very much for having us over the 4Th.

I had a very fine time. Our trip home was uneventful but we did stop at the Krispy Cream.

I have a couple of questions.

1. Can the boys have an air gun? I would like to send them each one.

2 If you fine some keys with a leather strap, they are mine.

3. You are welcome to use all the photos of the family in anyway you want. As to the the non-family pictures, you can use them for yourselves but make sure you write on them a credit to Bob Clark, all rights reserved. 2008. Please do not give them to anyone. If someone want one or some ask them to contact me-I know, its just a weired artistic thing.

You got a great family and I admired the patience exhibit by all. It is not like that here.

Take care and enjoy

Robert

Did I mention that he was still asking me to call him 'Uncle Robert' until I was 22? At any rate, he did take some very pretty pictures of Bumfark in all it's summer-green-glory, but I'll save those for another time. Without further adieu...

Evan was pretty sure that he could do it. Curt helped him hit one and he immediately dissolved into tears.

Conor got the biggest kick out of the go-kart. Right after Robert took this picture, he had to dive to the ground, as Conor, oblivious, tried to run him over. Oh, the perils of photography.


I love this picture, you can see their teen-hood right around the corner. Can I please freeze them right now before they start asking for car keys? Please?


I love that Brett started this little fracas and you can just barely see the top of his baseball cap in the bottom of the pile.


Lucas, preparing for take off.


Right after I saw this picture I sat on Michael and gave him a buzz-cut. Okay, not really, but I want to. Shhh, it will be a surprise.


Just in case you missed it, Emma wants you to know she lost a tooth.

I made the mistake of buying an underwater skateboard and Brett now thinks he is the Big Kahuna.



The man that owns the farm behind us pays mucho dinero for these guys to come and set off the fireworks every July. People from all over Bumfarkia flock to our little area to watch them. This was taken from my backyard, they were set off about 100 yards from us. We honestly have the best seats, and nary a crowd to fight to see them.


Not too shabby for Bumfark, if I do say so myself.

Oh, and...

Dear Robert,

1. The boys may have an air gun only if they are kept at your house. They are available the last two weeks in August to come and visit and play with them, if you'd like.

2. I did not find any keys, however I did find...Conor's cell phone, your lunch cooler, Elizabeth's year book, Elizabeth's shoes, and Conor's towel. Next time leave Tricia, I'll trade you for Evan.

3. Fortunately the market for pirated pictures of the fields of Bumfarkia is at an all time low, but I'll see what I can do about watermarking your photos.

Love,
Caroline

The Aftermath

We're all still recovering from a weekend filled with fun, cousins, food, and fireworks. I'm still sorting through the over 500 pictures that were taken of our holiday, but wanted to share these first.

This is the sight that greeted me yesterday morning when I stumbled into the living room at 6am, toting a very awake and energetic Ellie. The kids had spent the night camping out, watching an Old Yeller marathon and crashed afterward. Crashed hard.

I was so envious, I almost wept.

The reason human mothers don't eat their young

Because even after a week of non-stop toddler supernova tantrums, merely seeing this melts us.

Wimpy

Yesterday my mother-in-law stopped by. We were in the living room talking about a book I'd recently read when Brett comes in from outside, where he was pulling weeds with Michael. Being Brett, he interrupts.

"Hey mom, can we please be done. It's like a thousand degrees and my arms are killing me."

"That depends, do you want to swim this weekend or not?"

"Arrrrggggg" he moans. Moaning has become his latest forte.

Jeanne looks over at him and smiles. "You know what they say, no pain-no gain."

"Who says I want to gain? I don't want to gain, I like my weight!"

Brettism Hump Day! Pass the bucket.

This week has generally aced in suck-tacularity. Evan got a wicked virus, which entailed him either throwing up, laying limp on the couch-demanding that I stay glued to him, or crying for 15 minutes (until he throws up again) because I got up to brush my teeth. THE NERVE OF ME. Elle's also almost completed her transformation into a Klingon, as she's teething again and I've now mastered the art of going to the bathroom with her balanced on him lap. It's been special.

Consequently, I'm slacking in other departments. Last night for dinner, I threw down some ghetto-tastic sloppy joes and pasta for dinner. Brett is usually a pretty good eater, but when he doesn't like something, he really doesn't like it. He spent most of the meal moaning about it and gagging it down.

After the meal, as I'm trying to placate Evan he turns to me. "Man, I really hope I don't get what Evan has. I do not want to see that meal again."