Cheaper by the half dozen.

In real life..the dumping ground

2009-02-04T13:33:00.000-05:00

I finally had two minutes today to sit down and catch up on some blog reading (and while I'm coming clean here, I'm copping to reading Celebrity Baby Blog) when I got to this Toby Show post. And while I think my living room floor could still give her elevendymillion pieces of wooden train track a run for it's money, I decided to take a picture of my computer desk instead.

The desk is about 20 feet from the front door, which means that it's usually the first place I see to set down anything when I come home. Which would probably be fine, except that it's also the place that everyone else sees when they walk in the door. I not-so-affectionately call it the dumping ground. And about once a week, it ends up looking like this.

Two ipods, countless cords, two different lotions, a pair of Ellie's socks, a mostly used tube of Balmex, my planner, my new cell phone box, and about a thousand other little pieces of junk.

And if you look in the keyboard space underneath the desk you'll see a copy of The Joy of Sex. Curt inexplicably decided to read it on the couch the other night after the kids were in bed, and I had to hide it in a fast hurry when someone stopped by. And then, being me, I totally forgot it was there until I took the pic. (I put it back in it's proper child-free place, I promise)

And because Evan can't bear to see the flash of the camera without wanting to be photographed, here he is on the sofa, pant-less, next to a basket of unfolded laundry that I'll probably ignore until my OCD husband folds it (just being honest here). On the table is Ellie's nebulizer, with the tubing and mask laying on Lucas' homework, which I now see, he forgot to turn in today.

I'd show you my bedroom closet, but think maybe I'll save that for Halloween.

Parenting math

2009-01-29T18:39:00.005-05:00

Curt walks into the kitchen in the wake of a conversation I'd had with the 15-year-old, and I am literally beating my head off of the cabinet. It started when Michael had asked why he was grounded and in turn I listed in great detail why he wasn't going to be getting his iPod or DS back anytime soon. And I really should have just saved my breath, because all this garnered me was a blank stare and an "Okay. But why I am grounded?"

I collapse into Curt. "They're all so exhausting, they just drain you."

"I know, and what worries me is that one day they'll be a drain on the economy. And they're not living here forever.", he says.

"That actually doesn't worry me so much, they all know how to do dishes." I offer feebly.

Just then Brett saunters into the room, wearing full body fleece pajamas, complete with dinosaur print and footies. Only he's got them unzipped and hanging down by his waist, chest naked and pale, bouncing to whatever noise is playing in his head.

"And that one?" Curt looks skeptical.

"Christ, he'll be fine. If anyone of them is going to make millions, it's that one.", I say.

Curt rolls his eyes. "Only if he can find a job making excuses."

Return to normacly

2009-01-28T12:47:00.005-05:00

This past week Curt's grandfather died. And although it wasn't altogether unexpected, it was still hard on everyone, and especially hard to watch his family go through it. Thankfully, everyone seems to be coping well and getting back to a somewhat even keel.

And the insanity that is our life came crashing back in the day after the funeral. Michael had wrestling practice, and after he'd gotten home we were standing in the kitchen, talking, as I cooked dinner.

"And today at practice the power went out for about 30 minutes."

"Oh yeah", I said absentmindedly, "Were you able to still practice?"

"Um mom, the lights were out.", Mike gives me the parents-are-so-dense eye roll.

Brett continues the thought. "Yeah. I don't know about you, but rolling around on the floor, in the dark with sweaty teenage boys wearing singlets doesn't sound like how I'd like to spend my time mom."

Booking him on tour after his first single drops

2009-01-20T21:26:00.006-05:00

Thanks to the double digits of snow we got and the temperature wallowing in the single digits, we've all been largely trapped indoors. And I have a whole new definition for the cute little term 'cabin fever', insidious and nasty little virus that it is.

And despite that the older four had school the last two days, there is no recovery in sight. Worse yet, is that Evan and Ellie are so bad off, I've taken to peeking at them at night, just to remember why they're worth the facial tic and the jaw sore from clenching my teeth.

This all culminated in what was one of the worst evenings we've had in a long time. If you've ever wondered what a six way match would look like in the WWE, I can assure you it wasn't pretty. Ellie was by far the most beastly, demanding to be held for two hours straight while she squirmed and cried. And I only wish I were exaggerating.

Finally, inspiration struck and I decided to play some music, hoping that if the kids would dance, she'd at the very least be amused enough to stop whining. Evan popped over and requested "Lightning McQueen" which means that I'll spend the next two days trying to get Sheryl Crow out of my head.

But it worked, she did start to calm down and soon all of the kids were joining in. And when I realized what Evan was doing, I couldn't get to the camera fast enough. Mommy blackmail is never to be underestimated.

And because I'm a giver, I present to you Evan's air guitar solo...
(Please pardon the wiggly camera, sometime during filming Ellie decided she'd like to experience gravity and get down after all)

Recovery

2009-01-15T11:02:00.004-05:00

This week I had surgery scheduled, hopefully to fix the female plumbing issues I've been having since Elle was born. The procedure itself was actually pretty painless, even after I regained consciousness. I was home the same day and by the day after was back to herding kidlets. Honestly, the hardest thing about the whole ordeal was the adjustment to the fact that it essentially rendered me sterile. Not by any stretch of the imagination do I ever want to wear pants with an elastic middle, have to step on a scale in full judgement of a nurse assistant the size of Gweneth Paltrow, or have to send Curt out for Preparation H while I hold a screaming newborn. But it's still strange to have that ability taken away, rather like man-o-pause in my early (ish) 30s.

And maybe I'm a big puss, but I did kind of feel like my head was a giant snow globe that had fallen into the clutches of Ellie. It's taking a little while for all of my thoughts and feelings about it to settle. I'm getting there, and since both Evan and Ellie will be in preschool this September, I'm starting to look forward to phase 2 of my life - the selfish years. I've started pulling up college catalogs and filling out FAFSA forms, and I'm getting pretty geeked up about having a conversation that doesn't revolve around Yo Gabba Gabba.

I didn't tell the kids what was going on, only just that I had to go in to the hospital, but I'd be home before they got back from school. As it turned out Brett beat us home that day and was a little concerned. He asked specifically what I'd been there for and when I told him I had minor surgery, he naturally wanted more details.

"It was on my girly bits, Brett."

"Oh man! I do not need to hear about this."

"Well, luckily I wasn't planning on giving you any more details."

"Good." He reached over to hug me, gingerly patting me as if I'd break. "And I'm sorry you had to have surgery on your, um whatever, I'm sure it didn't feel good."

"Thanks Brett, but I can't imagine a surgery that does feel good."

"Sure, I can. One on Emma's head."

And Evan, who seemed largely oblivious to all of it, crawled up into my lap this morning, hugged me, and then lifted his head up to look at me.

"Mom, is you feel better now?"

"Yes sweetie, mommy feels better now."

"Good. Can I have a cookie?"

How soon is now?

2009-01-07T19:58:00.012-05:00

I'm still a little bit, okay, a lot fried from all that's happened in the past several weeks. And 2009 already seems to be shaping up to be the year Mommy started mumbling to herself and living in her bathrobe.

I know that this is just one of those times in life when all the shit seems to hit the fan at once. And I also know that in six months life will likely be it's nice, usual, manic self. But right now, it does seem to feel as if I'm standing in the ocean, trying to reach the shore, only to be knocked on my ass by wave after wave. So, Life if you are listening? Uncle, already.

Anyway, until the tide recedes, and I feel certain that I'll be able to post about daily life without sounding like a 17 year-old-black-clad-EMO-pussy, I'm going to stick with some pictures.

And won't mention that I'm sitting here listening to The Smiths and wearing entirely too much eyeliner.

Just before Christmas, my mother-in-law had the kids down to her house to bake and decorate cookies. Evan was showing off his floury hands and his 'Guess what? Chicken Butt' shirt. If it's wrong that I chuckle every time my three-year-old tells this joke, than I don't want to be right.

Lucas gave the experience two thumbs up. Also please note Geisha Emma in the background. Mother-in-law has a small bag of throw down cosmetics for Emma to play with at her house, complete with powder compact and gray hairs for Mommy.

Yeah, he's trying to play it cool, but I think Michael had more fun than any of them. As I was posting this he came home from his wrestling match and requested that I let the internet-at-large know that he got another pin and the phone number of a really cute girl named Ashley. I'd like the internet-at-large to know that I got some wrinkle cream and the phone number of a therapist named Monica.

Turning three means never having to say you're sorry, or having to wait for your icing fix. Also, please note that the poor child had three matches on his cake to blow out. The entire family gathered around the table, antsy, and ready to sing while Curt and I rummage through drawers in vain for candles. Klassy.

The older four spent the next week with bio-dad. The same week Curt had off. And apparently those two occurances created the perfect storm for Curt to decide that we should go through every closet in the house to purge anything not deemed vital. Me thinks he was a gypsy in a previous life. Thankfully, we did take a small break to meet up with Linda from Travels With Children and her (adorable!) crew at the Children's Museum in Pittsburgh. I'd be remiss if I didn't point out Evan going nuclear because he was told to stand still and smile. The nerve of some parents, honestly.

In the garage room Ellie was endlessly fascinated by the rubber balls rolling along a maze of wires suspended from the ceiling. She may look like her mother, but her brain is all Daddy. Which means, I get to blame him when she rigs up a pulley system to get to the M&Ms in the cabinet.

Evan insisted that Curt accompany him down the slide the first time. Thankfully, no photographic evidence exists of Mommy and Ellie's voyage down the spiral of embarrassment.

This morning as Michael was working himself into a foamy sweat playing the air-drums, Ellie pulled herself up and snuggled in. I look at this picture of my oldest and youngest children and think that despite everything else going on, I'm going to make it ashore after all.

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

2008-12-23T20:34:00.004-05:00

December, by the numbers....

8, trips to the doctor for various kids to be tested for strep, the fever-headache bug going around, or the pink eye Brett decided to sport. The nurse laughed nervously when I mentioned wanting my own personal parking space.

6, the number of stitches Curt needed the night he put a hatchet into his thigh cutting up firewood kindling.

4, the number of times I said "That is so cool." watching the doctor and student PA put in the sutures.

3, (approximate) weeks since I woke up snuggled up to Curt, head bent back, and realized that I'd pinched a nerve in my neck. I have been walking around, neck contorted, arm hanging limply at my side, trying to relieve the pain to no avail since.

6, types of narcotics, muscle relaxers, and steroids prescribed to me for said nerve pain; which manages to run from my neck, through my shoulder, down my arm, and into my hand.

3, number of times my doctor shrugged when I asked how long this will take to heal. Not coincidentally, the number of times I banged my head off of the exam table.

25903, the number of cracks my bones made when the Chiropractor tried to rip my head off in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure on the nerve.

0, number of times I've been back to the Chiropractor.

32, the number of people, (kids and hubs included), that I had to buy for this year. Say it, "Thirty-two".

33, years aged on December 20

1, large gift basket from Godiva, sent by very sweet and very anxious-to-have-his-wife-in-a-better-mood husband.

6432, number of calories consumed from basket.

891685, number of cute or funny things that the kids have said or done recently, that I've neglected to document because of pity party. Will try to do better after the new year, promise.

Amber Alert

2008-12-07T13:31:00.002-05:00

Sorry I've been MIA. I kind of hit a wall recently and had to shut down for a while. Aside from the holidays (and the family...oye, the family) and the daily stress of being responsible for 6 little lives, I've had some other personal issues at play. And like any wife and mother, I became the pack-mule for all of it until I woke up one day with such anxiety, that I was having chest pains. Anyway, I'm taking a break from all of the non-necessary things in life and re-evaluating what I can reasonably handle without having to live on sedatives to cope. Kidding, kidding. Mostly.

I hope to be back to posting regularly as soon as I can hack it again. Thanks for all of the emails and shout outs, it helps to know that you are thinking of me.

NUMB3RS

2008-11-23T19:14:00.002-05:00

Because Mike and Brett are boneheads, I confiscated both of their iPods promtly after they got them, lowered the volume level, and then set a four-digit-passcode on it to prevent them from blowing out their eardrums. They both occasionally ask if I'll raise the limit on them, and despite my adamant refusals, they don't seem detered. Tonight at dinner Michael asked me what the code was, because he'd tried my anniversary, my birthday, and his birthday and none of them worked.

"I tell you what Mike, if you guess it you can blast your questionable taste in music as loudly as you'd like."

Naturally, Brett perks up and joins in. "Score!" he says. "Can you give us a hint?"

"I'll tell you this much. It's not a birthday or an anniversary, and it's not a random number."

All throughout dinner, they continued to pepper me with questions, looking for clues.

"Is it your age and Curt's age?"

"Nope"

"Is it the day you and Curt met?"

"Brett, I'm not even sure what the date was when I met Curt."

"Jeez, we'll you'd better hope he doesn't either or that could get ugly."

"Is it the first four digits of our phone number?"

"No"

"Is it the numbers in our address?"

"Not even warm."

He looks stymied as we clear the table. "I've got it!" He says. "It's the number of times you predicted Michael and I would ask you what the code is!"

The big one-five

2008-11-21T15:18:00.004-05:00

This morning after Michael left for school I dug through some old pictures until I found this one of him at his first birthday.

He rarely claps with gleeful abandon these days, but it's amazing to me how much like that little dude he still is.

Happy Birthday my first baby, I love you.

Age appropriate

2008-11-20T15:15:00.002-05:00

Last night to save time, Curt hopped in the shower with Evan. They were scrubbing off when I hear Curt start to chip away at the wall Evan's put up about potty training.

"See, Evan has a pee-pee, and Daddy has a pee-pee. Only Daddy goes big boy potty with his."

Evan's tiny voice echos out of the shower. "I don't want to. Yours has stuff on it."

Curt laughs, "Yes, Daddy's has stuff on it, but you're too little for that."

They finish showering and Evan runs into the bedroom where I'm sitting with Ellie, grabs himself and proclaims "I'm too little to get some with my peep!"

Brettism Hump Day, naughty or nice

2008-11-19T07:59:00.004-05:00

I've come to the point in my elf'ing where I'm just plain stumped on what to get the older boys. They're in that weird age where things like Power Rangers aren't cutting it, but Mommy's not shelling out the dough for a snowmobile. Brett was helping me make dinner when I decided to pick his brain and asked him what he wanted.

"A baby brother."

I almost chop the tip of my finger off. "Are you high? The three brothers you have aren't enough?"

"Oh, they're plenty, but I just want one that doesn't suck."

"Sorry, but Santa closed that factory. Next item on the list?"

"Well, the next obvious choice would be a Dunkin Donuts in my bedroom."

"So, Nintendo it is?"

"Sure, sounds great Mom."

The gift that keeps on giving

2008-11-15T17:17:00.003-05:00

Yesterday on a whim as I was changing Evan, I asked him if he'd like to sit on the potty before I put the new diaper on. Oddly enough, he agreed. Curt and I followed him back to the bathroom, sitting with him, chatting.

He sat there for a good 15 minutes, not once showing any signs of impending productivity. I decided to try and seize the moment anyway.

"Hey Evan, did you know that if you start wearing big boy underwear, Grandma will mail you a present?"

He perks up. "A big one or a little one?"

"I don't know. You have to decide what you might like."

He screws up his face, you can see the wheels turning, completely aware that the world is his oyster at that moment. "A basket." He finally answers.

"A basket?" I'm lost.

"Yeah, a basket" he says, firmly.

I look at Curt, he looks as confused as I do until it hits him. "Ohhh, I just had to take the laundry basket away from him again. He was dragging it over to the counter to get into everything."

I blink and look down at Evan, dumbstruck. He smiles. "Nice, Ev. Nice."

Looking into home schooling

2008-11-14T10:56:00.004-05:00

Yesterday as I was changing Evan's morning diaper, I was suddenly so disgusted and frustrated with the whole ordeal. Seriously, if I were to add up the number of diapers I'd changed in my life time... I don't even want to think about it. And I guess I got a little cranky, because Evan's a smart kid. If he had any desire he could have been potty trained months ago.

But he doesn't, he could care less. Well, that's not true, he cares very much about not going on the potty. We've explained that you cannot go to preschool in diapers. He has talked about going to school like a big boy for over six months now, but replied with a very firm, "I'm not going to school now." when we tried that tactic. And, he's completely unperturbed by the nastiness of it. One day last month, he woke up and immediately wanted breakfast. This is rare, and the kid is tiny, so I jumped all over it; sitting him at the table with a cup and his food right away. He stood up when he was finished and walking away, he was making squishing noises. Smelly, squishy noises. The little snot sat there and leaked all over himself and it never even registered to him to request help or be cleaned. He didn't care.

So, yesterday I figured that I'd just take the hard line approach with him, which is usually the only approach that works with the stubborn little man. I told him I didn't have any diapers for him, all of the ones in the box had Ellie's name on them. Insanely enough, he didn't argue this point. He flailed and whined as I wiggled him into his Thomas undies. All morning long, I sat him on that damn potty. Finally, I just dragged it into the kitchen, figuring it couldn't be any less sanitary than the breakfast incident, and because leaving Ellie unattended is like posting your bank account info on the web. It is going to cost you.

It finally worked. After lots of snacks, toys, reading, crying, whining, and bitching he went. Once. And not since then. He had nap time right after he used it, and I'm motivated and all, but not suicidal. Looking inside one of his dirty diapers is bad enough, I really don't want to see that mess all over his room.

The energy I spent fighting him on this yesterday literally gave me a migraine, and with Curt leaving mid-day for work, it was a battle I couldn't fight alone and still make sure that everyone ate something besides stale pretzels for dinner. So, I'm tabling it. Again. At least until Curt has another seven day break and we can tag team the brat.

Must be the winning smile

2008-11-13T17:57:00.002-05:00

I grabbed the younger four and headed over to the school to pick Michael and Brett up, fresh from their defeat at the dodgeball tournament. Brett is sitting in the back seat, describing the games in vivid detail, only he's directing it all to Ellie, complete with baby-soothing dulcet tones.

"And then I saw a five-month-old baby today Ellie! I patted her head, and talked to her, but she just stared at me blankly." he pauses, and tilting his head to the side adds, "Actually, I get that reaction from most people I talk with too."

Brettism Hump Day salutes the vets

2008-11-11T19:32:00.000-05:00

"Hey Brett, did you know that today is Uncle Mathew's birthday?"

"Yup, he's a veteran."

"Oh, yeah, what is he a veteran of?"

"Growing up with you, obviously."

"Well played Brett, well played."

"Thanks."

Jessica

2008-11-10T07:00:00.009-05:00

Part of the genius that is geekie brother is the fact that several years ago, he was smart enough to find this woman.

Who not only tolerates living with a man who thinks "the floor is the biggest shelf in the condo", but amazingly doesn't smother him in his sleep after he says it. Aside from being gorgeous, and well on her way to saint-hood, she's insanely talented. An editor by day, she's now written a book, which she is hoping to get published through a contest. She sent me this link this morning, to give everyone an idea of the rules and of the book. She's also giving away a $10 gift certificate to anyone who copy and posts the following on their blog. So, please click the links below to go to her blog, her interview, and then most importantly vote for her! Pretty, pretty please??

THE AMERICAN TITLE V CONTEST HAS BEGUN!

The American Title contest is a joint project between Romantic Times Magazine and Dorchester Publishing. Each year, Dorchester selects a handful of submissions to compete for a publishing contract, and YOU, the readers, get to choose the winner.

To spread the word about the contest, finalist Jessica Darago (author of The Serpent's Tooth, a gothic historical), is raffling a $10 bookstore gift certificate to anyone who copies this message into his/her own blog. You don't have to vote for Jessica, or vote at all, to win. (But Jessica sure hopes you will!)

The winner may choose a gift certificate from Amazon, Powells, Fictionwise, or even iTunes (because audiobooks deserve love too).

To enter, copy this message to your own blog and leave a link to your post at http://justjayj.livejournal.com/259245.html

To vote for Jessica, send a blank email to votes@romantictimes.com with "The Serpent's Tooth" in the subject line.

Visit Jessica at http://justjayj.livejournal.com for more information and a link to read all of the American Title entries.

The last time she wants to hang out with me

2008-11-08T14:48:00.002-05:00

All this week I had prepped Emma for our very special "girls night" on Friday. Em got a Kit doll from the American Girl catalog last year for Christmas, and when the movie came out, she, of course wanted to see it. Naturally, no theater within 30 miles of Bumfark carried it, so she had to settle for the promise that we would watch it on DVD.

I didn't tell her that the movie had come out, just ordered it, and procured some Cheesecake Factory cheesecake-goodness from Sam's club, in preparation for our big night. After dinner and baths, I sent her to her room, popped the pop corn, dished the cheesecake out on the good dishes, put the movie in, and then led her into the living room.

She was beside herself with joy. She giggled for the first ten minutes, and we snuggled, our hands bumping into each other in the popcorn bowl. And then I brought out the cheesecake. I savored my first few bites and then looked over to ask Emma how she liked hers. She had inhaled it in a way that would have put the Cookie Monster to shame; I had to stop her from licking the plate.

We went back to the movie, but after about 20 minutes she turned to me and told me she didn't feel very good. I chalked it up to gluttony at first, but after three trips to the bathroom, and a thermometer reading of 103, it was clear she was really sick.

I tucked her into bed, brushing the hair off of her face, and told her how sorry I was that our girls night hadn't gone as planned.

"That's okay Mommy." She snuggled down into the pillow and then looked up as an afterthought. "Next time could you not make me eat all that cheesecake though?"

Brettism Hump Day spells it all out

2008-11-05T07:07:00.002-05:00

Emma is sitting at the table, scarfing breakfast, reciting her spelling words for the week while I pull bits of mushed banana from Ellie's hair.

"I can spell Ellie's name too mom, E-L-L-I-E. And Evan is E-V-A-N and Brett is B-R-A-T-T. Wait, no that's not it."

Michael snorts, "No you had it right."

Did you do it yet, did you?? Hunh, hunh, HUNH????

2008-11-04T15:44:00.002-05:00

Judging by what I'm seeing on the news, the voter turnout this year is record breaking. Everywhere that is, except for Bumfark. When Lucas and Emma got off of the bus this afternoon, I loaded them up and headed to our local community building to vote, all 150 square feet of it. In the five minutes it took for us to get out of the car, go in and vote, and then leave, I didn't see a single other voter.

Lucas and Emma got a huge kick out of it anyway, I showed them how the card went into the machine, how mommy pushed the buttons for her choice, and how amazing it was that all across the country millions of people were doing the very same thing to have a voice. It was so cool Lucas felt moved to announce the room at large just who I had picked.

Civics lesson, check. Discretion, FAIL.

Hope springs eternal

2008-11-04T13:41:00.007-05:00

With my addiction to Project Runway, Curt caught quite a few episodes by default. I don't think he minded too much, especially since Heidi Klum turned up in every episode looking very much like a goddess incarnate.

Last night as I was baking the cookies, Curt was in the living room with Mike watching the Steelers game. I walk in, between batches, to catch some of it. "Honey you just missed it! Heidi Klum was doing a commercial for Guitar Hero and she was dancing around in a white men's shirt like Tom Cruise in Risky Business." He's awestruck.

"Well, I'm sure it was much more exciting for you than it would have been for me, babe." He grins.

We continue to watch the football game and moments before we're ready to turn it off and go to bed, he yells again. "Here it is!! Look!" And sure enough, Heidi slides into a living room in a white Oxford shirt. Only this time she proceeds to strip down to a very revealing black bra and panties before gyrating around the room.

"Whoa. Maybe I should stay up and watch some more, maybe next time she'll do it nude."

Ginger Molasses PATRIOTIC cookies

2008-11-03T08:39:00.006-05:00

A couple of weeks ago I made some of Jonah Lisa's fabulous Ginger Molasses cookies, and in an effort to still fit into my jeans after the holidays, I sent quite a few of them to work with Curt.

Apparently, they were a hit. One of his co-workers even remarked that for a dozen of those gems, he'd vote for the candidate of my choice. A sure stab at Curt, since we occasionally clash on politics.

I've never met the guy, have no idea who he was planning on voting for before he first tasted cookie nirvana, and no clue who he will indeed vote for tomorrow; but if those cookies induce him to get to the poll, well, I'm firing up the oven.

I'd obviously love it if my candidate wins; but more importantly, I think it's essential that every adult in this country votes. You may feel lukewarm about both presidential candidates, and yeah, the electoral college is a bit *ahem* outdated, but that's not all that's at stake. Tomorrow you will elect local government, vote on propositions, you will effect how your community is run. To eschew such a privilege is a huge slap in the face of those who fought and continue to fight for our right to choose.

So, bake some of these amazing cookies, and VOTE, dammit!

Like father, like son

2008-11-01T11:54:00.000-04:00

The other day as I was sitting on the couch with Evan, folding laundry as he watches some Noggin, a commercial for Barbie comes on. Ev walks over grinning.

"Mom, naked Barbies have boobies."

It's the Banned Pumpkin Charlie Brown!

2008-10-30T08:23:00.006-04:00

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays of the year; the smell of fall in the crisp air, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot, and the tangible anticipation of the next sugary-crack score. I think it's because I've always had really great memories of trick-or-treating growing up that I'm taking Bumfark's ban on it so hard.

Evidently, one year they had some *gasp* minor vandalism in the form of some smashed pumpkins and toilet paper adorned trees. To avoid such a catastrophe in the future, they banned door to door visits and decided to throw a Halloween party in the gymnasium every year. Which, I suppose could be a lot of fun, but they've dumbed it down to pure torture. Picture a tiny gym filled with every child and parent in a 10 mile radius standing around like cattle, waiting to be herded to the center of the room for the costume judging for their age group/category. After two hours of this idiocy you and your sweaty, miserable children exit and are handed a small bag of candy.

They don't even have the decency to buy the good chocolate.

This year bio-dad offered to take them to his neighborhood, a real live subdivision, jack-o-lanterns sitting on porches the way it should be. And I'm sad that I'll miss enjoying the actual event with them, but I'm glad that they're getting to experience it. And in the spirit of the holiday, last night I gathered up the kidlets, poured some popcorn into bowls, and we all sat down and enjoyed another Halloween tradition by watching poor Linus wait for his great pumpkin.

Brettism Hump Day has all the answers

2008-10-29T06:55:00.002-04:00

Last night it was the usual chaos during the arsenic hour as I was making dinner. The kids had assembled at the table as I scrambled to get food onto eight waiting plates. Finally the din got so loud that I turned around and yelled "Is it so difficult to JUST BE QUIET???"

Emma looks up and starts to reply, but Brett cuts her off. "Em-ma, you're going to get us in more trouble. And that was called a rhetorical question. That means you should know the answer by how loudly she asks the question."

Coincidences

2008-10-28T08:10:00.001-04:00

I'm posting this because of two things that happened yesterday. First, the super cool Beth tagged me and challenged me to reveal seven things about myself that you might not know. A few minutes later I pulled up the Pioneer Woman website and she had written a post asking everyone to write five adjectives to describe themselves, after she talked in great length about the movie Heartburn, inflicting me with a Carly Simon-Coming Around Again earworm. Thanks a lot PW.

So without further ado...

I almost named Emma, Chloe instead. In fact, I went into the hospital completely intending to do so, but after looking at her I decided that she just didn't 'feel' like a Chloe. I've regretted it ever since.
I have a huge weakness for both good chocolate and good body lotion. I also try to avoid both if at all possible; the first because I have no control and it likes to sit where I do, and the second because I can't justify dropping $27.50 on a jar of stuff that Emma will likely try to paint her room with.
I grew up in an agnostic house, but attended both Catholic and Protestant churches from time to time growing up. In the past year I've realized that as a mother, I needed to not be so apathetic about my stance on religion and am now raising the kids to be secular humanists.
Despite not wanting any more kids, or even really liking being pregnant, I think I will always miss it. Rather like a gestational Stockholm Syndrome.
A few days ago Curt and I booked a mini-vacation to Vegas in February. Geekie brother and his girlfriend are going to meet us there...VEGAS, baby!

And my five adjectives, although I left out the obvious maternal one.

Tenacious
Weaning
Sarcastic
Introverted
Protective

That was actually pretty cathartic, if you're feeling up to it please do your own and link me to them, I'd love to read them!

And the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true.

2008-10-27T11:30:00.000-04:00

Holy crap, she did it, again! The amazing Jen somehow, some way, managed to get not only a good shot of all 12 of us, but some beautiful shots of our little nuclear family. Okay, it's not really little.

And neither is Jen's gift. You can check out a few of our photos here at her blog. (bookmark it too, she's a hoot!)

Make mine a Venti

2008-10-26T08:28:00.002-04:00

Brett went with me the other night to take his friend back home after having dinner with us. (During which, by the way, the kid proudly proclaims "I'm failing English. I have a tennessee to talk too much." I think they share a brain.)

During a lull in the conversation I reach over and flip the satellite radio on and the station identifies itself as Sirius' Coffee House. It's a mellow station, a lot of acoustic songs and sounds not unlike something that would play in a dentist's office.

We listen to a couple of songs and Brett looks thoughful. "Ohhhh, I get it. The reason they call it the coffee house is because you have to drink the stuff to stay awake while you listen to this station."

Slow ride

2008-10-24T20:07:00.004-04:00

Ellie, who is all girl and will steal your shoes as soon as you take them off, is also a bona fide motor-head. Anything with an engine and she tries to make the noise and then begs to get on it. So I guess I wasn't too surprised tonight when I turn around and found this.

Keeping it real

2008-10-23T16:41:00.006-04:00

In the interests of full disclosure, I'm posting the kids school pictures from this year. I buy them every year out of a sense of guilt and duty, throw one in my wallet, but mostly I just file them away for future spouses to gawk at. I don't make the kids get all dressed up, there are certainly no bow-ties; but I do make sure they have something clean and decent on, and it's the one day of the year when I require Brett to wear a collared shirt.

This year things went a little differently. One morning a few weeks ago, I get a phone call from Michael in the office at school. He'd forgotten to tell me about school pictures, the order form was on my desk, did I see it?, and could I please run it up to him? I chatted with the secretary a minute to discover that Brett too was having them taken. It wasn't until after I got back home from running the forms up that I even gave what they were wearing a second thought.

And then the pictures came. Michael proudly tells me that he covered up the AC/DC tee-shirt he was wearing that day with his soccer jersey. A marked improvement, surely.

Brett on the other hand was wearing one of his many over-sized, obnoxious tee-shirts with something goofy written on it. This particular one looks like an eye chart and reads "Y DID YOU BOTHER READING THIS SHIRT". Klassy, surely.

And, I'd love to show you Lucas and Emma's pictures, but you see I totally forgot about their picture day and they didn't take any. They both brought home the order forms, I tucked them into my calendar, and that was the last thought I gave it.

2008 - The year mom sucked.

Brettism Hump Day, Comic relief from the conceited

2008-10-22T20:39:00.000-04:00

In a fit on insanity I succumbed to my mother-in-law's suggestion, and called the uber-talented Jen to come over and get another family picture. As soon as I opened my eyes yesterday I could feel the stress creeping up on me, figuring that I'd probably spend a good portion of the day with a headache and in a foul mood. When Brett walked in from school, I started him on his chores and warned him that I wasn't in the mood for any funny business. "Don't worry, I got this." he said.

Twenty minutes later he walks out of the bathroom, handing me the window cleaner and the rag. "Here mom, I cleaned everything off of the mirror but that handsome guy staring back at me."

When Jen showed up, we got everyone set up with the lighting on the couch and she started to snap shots. Naturally Evan just wanted to scowl, Elle to get down and run, and everyone else looked about as happy as if I'd told them we were all going out for root canals afterwards. When we finished one set I told the kids they could take a break and Brett jumps up. "Great, if you need me, I'll be in my trailer."

~ I'll be posting the proofs from the session as soon as I get them, if anyone could get a good shot of this motley crew, it's Jen!

Fall

2008-10-21T15:05:00.003-04:00

Curt mowed the grass a couple of days ago and yesterday as we were pulling out of the driveway he turned to look at the yard and started to mutter under his breath. I glanced over and the tree in the front yard was literally raining leaves, there was a huge pile carpeting the ground beneath it. It was actually quite beautiful but I knew it wouldn't last, because it's only a matter of time before Mr. OCD-yard-care busts the mower out again to clean it up. When Evan went to play outside and gravitated towards the pile I grabbed my camera, happy to be able to capture them both.

Pumpkin, pumpkin, pumpkin

2008-10-19T23:29:00.000-04:00

Today Curt and I decided to get the younger two out of the house and head over to the local farm for a hay ride and to pick some pumpkins. I was kind of missing the older kids, who were with bio-dad, and as we climbed on to the hay bales and set off through the fields I started giggling thinking about a joke Brett had told me.

"There were these three robbers who were running from the cops and found themselves hiding out on a farm. The cops were catching up to them so the first robber told the other two to split up and hide among the farm and just to act natural. The first robber hid himself in a chicken coop and when the cops walked by he said 'Bwaack, bwaack, bwaaaack, bwack!' like a chicken and the cops moved on. The second robber hid himself with the pigs and when the cops walked by him he said 'Oink, oink, oink.' Then the cops walked by a big field of vegetables and heard 'Potato, potato, potato'."

Brett must have told me that corny joke three times last week, each time laughing a little bit harder at the punch line and each time I would giggle; not at the joke, but at Brett finding such bad humor so funny.

So riding across the farm today, in my head I heard 'Pumpkin, pumpkin, pumkin.' I'll have to remember to thank him later.

At any rate, the trip was a success and after much wandering through the patch Evan found the perfect little pumkin that he'd been looking for. I was suprised he didn't ask to sleep with it when we put him to bed.

Perspective

2008-10-17T08:00:00.010-04:00

A few weeks ago I stumbled onto a box of old pictures from my childhood and spent a good hour going through them. Strolling down memory lane, remembering people and places. I couldn't help but marvel at how much Ellie looks like me at that age, laughing at all of the bad hair and shag carpeting, and how geekie brother's smile hasn't changed in over 25 years.

Then I started looking a little bit more closely at some of the pictures. And I was struck by just how much times have changed. And that I made it to adulthood in one piece.

What, you didn't have a mega sized box of Marlboro cigarette's to play in??

Forget the bottle or the pillows, what I really used to love to nap with was a nice, accessible power outlet and cord.

Little known fact; most minerals can be attained by directly ingesting them via yard dirt. Bonus points for leaves as fiber.

Clearly this was before Oprah did the special on the dangers of mesh suffocation. And if you look closely you'll see my toes in the chair next to the playpen, either I was standing up there rooting Michael on, or getting ready to do a flying Wallenda on him.

"No, the Pall Mall's please. The Kool's leave too much of a menthol aftertaste."

Sitting on a box of Budweiser, surrounded by cigarette butts. Makes me wonder what's in the cup.

And my favorite, I believe Camel used this for one of their more family friendly ads.

Then on a lark, I started flipping through my digital photo albums.

And think maybe I'd better start fattening up the therapy fund for my six.

Tag! 666-Damian approved!

2008-10-16T19:28:00.007-04:00

I got tagged by the supa' cool Angie earlier today to participate in a rousing game of blogging photo tag. You go through your hard drive and select the sixth photo in the sixth folder, give a description and memory of the picture, and then tag six more bloggers.

I was a little worried about what I might find, a random blurry picture of Evan with his eyes closed playing outside. As it turns out the picture was of the fabulous florist-tanning-faxing-truck garage abortion of a business, the one where Curt in desperation sent me flowers from one year. The place that just screams "Yinzes in BUMFARK now!"

And in the spirit of the game (or half spirit of the game), I'm tagging Kate, JL, and Linda.

Enjoy!

Spare tire

2008-10-16T07:45:00.000-04:00

Brett wanders up to the computer desk, dressed in pajama pants for bed.

"I feel so fat without a shirt on." he says.

"What? You weigh like 23 pounds, how do you feel fat?" I'm incredulous.

"Because Michael and his friends at school say that I'm fat because I don't have a line and a keg on my abs."

"You mean a six-pack abs?"

"Yeah, whatever, something about beer and my stomach."

"Trust me when I tell you that beer will not help you in the svelte department, or in the live-to-see-adulthood department either."

He rolls his eyes. "I would never drink it. Man, you take everything so illiterately."

Brettism Hump Day bounces

2008-10-15T06:04:00.000-04:00

Brett and I are finishing the dishes while Luke and Mike are sitting at the table, when Lucas loudly grumbles that he hates homework, math in particular.

"I used to hate it too Lucas, but then I found this cool trick. I look at a problem and I think 'I wonder what the answer is?' and then I guess. I think to myself, I think the answer to this problem is 10. And then when I solve it, if I was right, I do a little happy dance." Mike says, sounding very much like a cheesy motivational speaker.

Brett looks over at me and inquires somberly "Did you ever drop him?"

Concreted in Bumfark

2008-10-14T09:00:00.007-04:00

One of the many things that this house needed when we bought it last year was a new walkway. We briefly debated doing a brick walk, but the sheer amount of precision and patience required quickly ruled that out and we decided to go with plain concrete. For two days Curt formed the mold for the walk, then filled it in with gravel. This morning the truck showed up to pour it, and his grandpa came up to help. It was actually really cool to watch, the two littles stood at the door for almost an hour and taking in the action, totally silent and engrossed. I think maybe we should pour concrete every morning, I'd almost forgotten what hot coffee tasted like.

I'm resisting the urge to go and carve my name in it. But just barely.

What happens when you investigate the erie quiet

2008-10-13T19:22:00.002-04:00

Yeah, that Dustbuster in the background? Worth every cent.

9 bushels + 13 hours = total blast

2008-10-11T20:48:00.007-04:00

Every year Curt's grandparents host Apple Butter Day, and for weeks ahead of time they peel, core, slice, and freeze bushels of apples for the big day. Curt crawled out of bed at 5 to head down to the farm and help start stirring. The kids and I got there a little after 9, and except for a little bit of paddle work, they were a blur for the rest of the day. It's really one of my favorite days of the year, we have a big pot luck, sit around and just enjoy each other, and then jar enough apple butter to feed a county.

Mike and Tucker took a quick turn before venturing off into the wild green yonder.
This was the last I saw of them until they turned up dirty, shoeless, and starving. Ellie fell in love with Marley the puppy. So did Ellie's mommy, who then spent a good portion of the day trying to convince Daddy that Ellie needs one of those under the Christmas tree. Of course he had to counter with things like vacuuming hair, poop patrol, and all of the fun Ellie would have dumping the water bowl on an hourly basis. Scrooge.

I looked up and found Evan like this, nothing says redneck quite like riding a big wheel shirtless. And after 13 hours of stirring, it was finally it was time for the big bottling assembly line.
Brett asked if we could have pancakes again tomorrow and crack open 'some of that sweet fresh butter from apples'. Something tells me we'll need more pancake mix.

Won't you be my neighbor

2008-10-11T09:01:00.003-04:00

Michael managed to pull his grades up and eek out passing scores just in time to invite his friend Tucker over to join us for the family's annual Apple Butter Day. They all woke up early and I was standing in the kitchen making pancakes, while the kids sat at the table and filled Tucker in on the joys of a whole day of running loose on the farm, stopping only for sustenance.

"Cool. My mom and dad had to let me off grounding for today so I could come." Tucker says.

My interest is piqued. "Why were you grounded Tucker?" I ask.

"For failing Bio. I wasn't turning in my homework." he replies sheepishly.

Brett looks up from his plate. "Welcome to the neighborhood, my friend. Where your neighbors are 'Un' and 'Fair'."

Guilty as charged

2008-10-10T11:31:00.003-04:00

This week there have been a lot of discussions with Mike and Brett on responsibility and accountability, not coincidentally as mid-term reports came out. Both of them are failing to turn in work, even work that they've completed. As Brett rationalizes, "If I do the work, and I learn from it, and I pass the test, isn't that what's really important." And while I look forward to him filling out his law school applications to fulfill his true destiny, it's a bit like trying to get a square peg in a round hole getting him to accept that some rules have to be followed, just because.

He asked for the millionth time this week to be ungrounded and for the millionth time I turn the discussion back to his grades, and did he turn in the freaking draft to the report yet??

"Ugh. Yeah, yeah, I know. Anything I say can and will be used against me in the court of Mom."

Brettism Hump Day wants Starbucks

2008-10-08T07:07:00.004-04:00

Since I've yet been able to talk Curt into installing a coffee station in the bedroom, most mornings it takes me a while to find my brain. Yesterday I blindly stumbled out into the kitchen, Ellie in one hand, my other searching for my coffee cup. My eyes were just starting to focus when I noticed Michael trying to sneak off.

Part of Mike's chores is to handle the dishwasher in the morning. Which he hates, as it apparently cuts down on his time sitting on the couch looking surly.

"Michael, don't try and slink out of here yet, get the dishwasher."

"Why do I always have to do it? This stupid freaking family and it's stupid freaking dishes. I'm tired of it!"

I hear Evan walking down the hallway crying, apparently woken up by Mike's yelling. This does not improve my mood.

"Poor, poor you. With the bedroom to yourself and the iPod and the later bedtime. Life can get a hella of a lot harder for you Michael, go ahead and try me. And if you wan to talk about tired, I'll share my list, like doing your freaking laundry, preparing enough food every night to feed an army, picking your nasty socks up where ever you decided to drop them, and having to stay on top of you to make sure you do the bare minimum. I get tired of doing things too!"

The whole time Brett has been sitting at the table, eating breakfast, very mellow. He pipes up.

"You're not tired of me, are you mom?"

I sigh, willing the coffee pot to work faster. "No Brett, I'm not tired of you."

"Good. Because I'd just gotten used to you and everything. Even before your coffee."

Kindergarten math

2008-10-07T08:08:00.005-04:00

I glanced down at my calendar this morning and realized that it was Emma's day to shop the book fair at school. Next to her name I had penciled, $5, a reminder from last year's lesson learned.

Except, apparently I didn't learn it. Today when I looked in my wallet, I found only a twenty. Again. Last year I sent Emma off with a twenty dollar bill, figuring that since most of the books in the catalog were under ten dollars that I'd still get plenty of change back and she'd get to have her pick.

Only what she picked cost $15.95 and wasn't really a book. It was called Fashion Girls and was a cardboard tri-fold monstrosity. One side had a blank notepad for sketching her designs, the next a series of faces, all tramped up to illustrate the color lipstick each girl should wear according to her 'season', and the third side held *gulp* actual make up. After a little talk with Em, I threw the Britney manual in the trash and we spent 20 minutes perusing Amazon looking for a replacement.

This year, determined not to blunder again, when the catalog came home from school I sat with Emma and pointed out all of the nice books under five bucks. So this morning I frantically scribbled a note on the envelope with the money to her teacher and then went over the ground rules with Em.

"Here's the money in the envelope Emma. Do NOT spend more than five dollars. Do NOT buy a toy, just a book. If it's more than five dollars, DON'T buy it."

"Right. You said I could buy the Hannah Montana book, it's five."

"Yeah, I guess." I said, searching for an alternative that didn't require me to sing the Best of Both Worlds. "Unless they have the cool Fancy Nancy book we looked at."

"Yeah, and if that's five dollars I could buy that too!"

The alarm clock

2008-10-06T06:54:00.007-04:00

Unfortunately Ellie inheirited her father's the-sun-hit-my-eyes-I'm-awake gene. At the tender hour of 6am, I used to be able to chillax with my cuppa tea on the couch and watch the news as she played quietly at my feet. Alas, Shiva the destroyer makes that a little hard these days.

The bonus is that with all of the noise she made with the pan and spoon, I didn't have to worry about rousing the rest of the grouches, they filtered down the hallway with their hands over their ears.

You've lost that lovin' feeling

2008-10-02T18:47:00.003-04:00

I'm sitting at the table helping Lucas with his math. Brett is sitting with us, eating his fourth piece of pizza.

"Man this is good. What's your secret ingredient?"

"Honey."

"Seriously??? There is honey in this?"

"Yup, in the crust."

"Wow." He takes another bite and chews slowly. "I guess I can tell. What is the secret ingredient in everything else you cook?"

"Love, Brett, love."

"Well, I'm not tasting that."

Brettism Hump Day wants an epidural

2008-10-01T06:01:00.002-04:00

I was going through a box of old photos when I look over and see that Brett has grabbed a small photo album from the pile.

"I wouldn't open that if I were you."

"Why not? It has my name on the title page, see right here?"

"Yes Brett, I know, I wrote it. But I'm warning you, you might not want to go through it."

"Well, can I anyway?"

"Yup, fair warning though."

He opens the book and on the first page I'm lying bundled up on a hospital bed, looking tired and hugely pregnant. He flips to the second page and comes face to face with his very graphic entry into the world.

"Oh my god!" He drops the book. "The blood! No wonder you get grumpy, look what I did to you!"

I promise I did not marry my cousin

2008-09-30T10:36:00.008-04:00

We're going through a miserable teething week here at casa six-pack. And it's not Ellie, although in solidarity, she's been waking up at night too.

It's Evan, who will be three in December, and who has the world's most bizarre set of baby teeth. When he cut his first tooth, at the tender age of 11 months, I sighed with relief, I'd never had a baby take so long to cut one. Then he cut his second tooth. And as I looked at it, I couldn't believe what I was seeing, because those puppies were crooked. Not just a little crooked; Austin Powers crooked.

To make it a little bit more special, when the bottom front teeth came in, he developed a cross-bite. When he chomps down, his top and bottom teeth criss-cross in the front. Poor kid, I hear banjos in my head every time he smiles at me.

I couldn't dial the dentist fast enough, cursing the few Cosmos I'd had before I found out I was pregnant. The dentist took one look at him and said "I think we need to see an Orthodontist." My knees went weak, as I had visions of money flying from my wallet as Evan sported tiny brace-face. Fortunately, Ortho-dude didn't think he needed any corrective work yet. Yet. He was even kind enough to float us a small bubble of hope by saying that crooked baby teeth don't necessarily equate to crooked adult ones. I'm squirreling away my pennies anyway though.

Even curiouser, he never even got two of his baby teeth. On the bottom the lateral incisors just never showed up to the party. In fact this week when he mentioned that his mouth hurt, it honestly never crossed my mind that he was getting a tooth. Then last night as I was bathing him and he was mouth agape, yelling at Ellie, I noticed one just starting to break through. And damn if it's not coming in straight to boot. When we were brushing his teeth, I asked him if anything hurt. "Yeah, it hurts wight here, I told you." he said, pointing and clearly exasperated by obtuseness.

I honestly never thought I'd be so glad to deal with teething, I really thought I was going to have to pack him off to school looking like this.

Now, if you don't mind I'm going to research Curt's family tree. Just in case.

When I fill out his PreK application, I'll be adding extortion to his list of hobbies

2008-09-29T08:02:00.003-04:00

Friday I put Ellie down for a nap and sprinted for the bathroom before Evan noticed I was gone. Any time I wander down the hallway and she's asleep he takes it as a personal challenge to turn on the siren and come searching for me.

He was hot on my tail though, carrying a six pack of the Ensure that we give to Lucas to keep weight on him.

"I have one of these? It's chocolate milk!"

"No Ev, those are for Luke. Mommy will get you some chocolate milk in your cup in a minute."

"NOOOOOO! I want this one, this one in the bottle like a big boy!"

I'm getting ready to stand up, wash up, and whisk him back to the living room, my hand clamped over his mouth when I notice that I'm out of toilet paper. I lean to get some from the cabinet and see that we're out there too. Then I spot it sitting on the floor next to my bedside table, Mike clearly unable to carry such a heavy load another 5 feet.

"Hey Evan, do you see the toilet paper?"

He looks over. "Yeah, it's wight there."

"Yes. Can you hand it to Mommy?"

"Can I have this?" He holds up the Ensure.

"Um, no. Those are for Lucas, now please hand mommy the toilet paper." I'm enunciating every word in the hopes that this will induce compliance.

"No, I don't want to, I WANT THIS." He's yelling now and my patience is about as short as Ellie's nap is apparently going to be.

"Evan, give me the toilet paper please, you are not having a shake."

He calmly looks at me, gauging my intent. He sets down the Ensure on the threshold of the bathroom then walks over and picks up the toilet paper, and I sigh in relief. Never taking his eyes off of me, he turns and gently sets it down next to the shakes, then turns and walks off.

Incidentally, under duress I can stretch a really, really long way.

Pack your bags, you're going on a guilt trip

2008-09-28T09:37:00.003-04:00

I wanted to thank everyone for all of their support and advice with Mike and Brett. I've been having a really hard time finding my mommy way lately and you guys helped me so much to find my voice (and a little bit of sanity) again.

This morning I sat Mike and Brett down and told them that we were clearly at an impasse. And that in the interest of promoting trust and a good relationship with them, that I am going to believe that they were telling the truth about not taking the pop tarts. And how, especially as teenagers having the trust of your parents is a huge asset and not something that you want to find yourself without. I reiterated that they're coming of the age where things like going out, hanging out with friends, driver's licences, and curfews are going to start coming into play. All of which are not rights, but privileges that they will have to prove that they are worthy of, and that a healthy relationship with us is the best first step they could have towards earning them. Not to mention how hurt and disappointed I'll be if I find out that they were lying.

Then I told them that they would be un-grounded as soon as they had completed the usual regime of Sunday chores.

I don't think I've ever seen those boys move so fast.

Parenting....FAIL

2008-09-26T15:43:00.001-04:00

What started as a sure bet on my part has now turned into a Mexican standoff; neither boy willing to admit guilt in the Pop Tart caper. As the days drag on they're both quite tired of being grounded, but still nary a confession. Yesterday I tried cornering Brett and offered him a deal of immunity; no prosecution, no penalty for lying, just finally be honest with me. He still denied it, but did tell me he'd fake confess if the whole thing could be over. It was tempting.

A few minutes later he mentions to me that he did once see Mike in the lunch room with what he *thought* was a pop tart. Michael has always been the prime suspect, just because swiping things is his MO, especially forbidden/monitored junk food. Last year I caught him trying to sneak an ice cream down to his room, and found a few more wrappers when I checked under his bed. A month ago we discovered $30 missing from Brett's wallet, which Mike had taken to pay the cafeteria for the crap he was buying at lunch time.

All kids do stupid things, they all will test drive lying, I get this. Both times Mike was busted he was lectured on the importance of honesty and integrity, and then ceremoniously voted off the island. And, the thing that worries me is the last two times I caught him, it was because I stuck with the accusation despite my creeping doubts of his guilt. The little snot is good at lying and I really had started to believe him. And I know some pop tarts and petty theft are pretty small potatoes considering what some of his contemporaries are up to. Lord knows I pulled my share of shit when I was his age, in fact comparatively speaking, he's a frigging boy scout. *shudders* But that doesn't mean that I condone it. This is do or die time, I only have four or five years left with him and today it's small shit, tomorrow it's alcohol and drugs.

So yesterday when I picked him up from soccer practice I made sure I was alone. (Don't worry, mother-in-law had the others) I had my best serious mommy-means-bidness face on and lit right in to him.

"Aren't you tired of being grounded? This is your last chance to come clean Michael, I mean it. I spoke to someone at the school today who says they saw you with a pop-tart at lunch. I want the truth now Michael."

"Mom, I seriously did not do it. I mean, I'm totally sick of being grounded, I'd much rather just be punished for taking them than spend forever stuck with nothing to do. I know I've lied to you before, I know I wasn't always honest, but I'm really telling you the truth this time, I didn't do it!"

We got home and I made a pissed off beeline for my room to finish putting laundry away. I had just shut the door when Brett asks him what the matter was.

"This stupid freaking grounding. Now she says someone at the school saw me with them and I didn't do it. I'm getting blamed for something I didn't do and it pisses me off." When I came out of the room he was near tears and visibly upset.

So, I'm stumped. I honestly have no idea if he's lying or being truthful. And at this point I'm so ready to be done with all of it that I'd happily just drop the matter, but if he is guilty what does that say to him? That if you hold out long enough and deny, deny, deny that you will get away with it? I have visions of him standing smugly in front of wife with lipstick on his collar stubbornly repeating that he really was just working late.

On the other hand, how much longer can this go on and what if Curt was wrong about them missing? Those damn things were up in the cabinet for quite a while, I'm wondering if it's possible that he just miscounted or forgot he'd eaten them.

I feel as though I'm stuck in a miserable Catch-22 and in uncharted waters. Any option that I come up with seems riddled with pitfalls; I'm running out of brainstorms and getting dejected about the whole thing. So I'm asking for suggestions. Books you can point me to on how to raise marginally normal-minimally farked up teenagers, clever solutions to the quandary I put us in, anything.

~Signed
Stymied in Bumfark

Putting the 13 in PG-13

2008-09-25T08:47:00.000-04:00

Mike walks into the kitchen to make his lunch just as Curt and I were separate from a kiss, and rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, again? You two kiss too much."

"No such thing when you are married Mike."

"Well, when I get married I'm never going to do that in front of my kids and I'm going to marry someone that's the exact same age as me. It's just weird that Curt is younger than you."

"That's silly, did you think it was weird when your dad was older than me?"

"Well, still."

"Mike, I don't care who you marry as long as they are a good person and you are happy."

"So, I could like marry someone from another country and you wouldn't care?"

"Mike I don't care if you marry someone from another country, someone older or younger than you, I don't care if you marry a man or a woman, just as long as it's a good marriage."

"Oh my god, a man? That's just gross!"

"Mike, grow up. You can help being gay about as much as you can help what color eyes you are born with. And that's not the point, the point is all I want is for you to be happy."

"I know mom, but I just don't get the whole gay thing. I mean, who is the woman in that?"

"Well, one of them doesn't wear a wedding dress during the ceremony if that's what you mean."

"No, not that."

"Like who does the cooking versus the car maintenance, because there are lots of guys who cook and lots of girls who can change the oil."

"No, nevermind."

"No, you can tell me, I'd rather you asked me than someone else."

"Well, it's kind of like something in one of the movies that you won't let me watch."

"That's okay, you can ask me anything Mike."

"Really, you won't be mad?"

"Nope."

"Well, what I want to know is who puts the meat in the taco?"

Brettism Hump Day plays chicken

2008-09-24T07:42:00.004-04:00

A few days ago Curt went to pack his lunch and noticed that an entire box of pot tarts were missing. The pop tarts that the kids aren't allowed to touch (and that I only allow in grudgingly allow in the house for Curt...blech). The pop tarts on the very top shelf where we keep the forbidden; the shelf that is completely out of reach to the younger four.

We confronted Mike and Brett and demanded to know who had been taking them. Predictably the denials were quick and copious. I started getting rather pissed off, both because one of them was lying, but also because that they're now old enough to pull it off and be convincing. Gone are the days when I told them that if they blinked too much I knew they were lying and they'd stare at me like a bug-eyed-statue when trying to pull one over.

Finally I told them that until I found out who had taken them, they were both grounded. No TV, no computer, no games, no breathing until someone confessed. They both grumbled and moaned and when they went downstairs I really thought I'd have the guilty party in my clutches within the hour.

But time dragged on. Hours turned into days, and still no confession. What started out as a frustrated gamble on my part became rather amusing as they both began coming to me alone to profess their innocence, and I started to get a pretty good idea of who had been wiping pop tart crumbs off of their paws.

Brett: "Mom, seriously. I never get up on time, I don't even know where my alarm clock is right now. Mike is always up before me, but when I'm up he's always around. How could I have taken them without him seeing?"

Mike: "I'm pretty sure Curt just miscounted, I mean when is the last time he had one of those anyway?"

Brett" "Can I pleeease be ungrounded? I mean, Mike's not going to confess and you have to admit, I'm showing dignity under false suspicion. Doesn't that count for something?"

Mike: "It's totally unfair that I didn't get to go to the school meeting because of this stupid grounding. I mean, since the last time you caught me lying and went through my room, I haven't done anything wrong. Well, except for the whole Brett's wallet thing, but that was over a month ago!!"

Brett: "Mom, I'm ready to tell you who did it."

"Okay, Brett."

"It was Michael! Am I ungrounded now?"

Brettism Hump Day! Scrooge McDuck strikes

2008-09-17T18:37:00.006-04:00

For the past two days Brett has been tearing the house apart searching for his Civics book. Admitting fault not being one of Brett's strong suits *coughcough* he's spent a lot of time finger pointing at Michael, who he is sure took it just because.

I'd finally had enough and told him that he needed to just go and tell his teacher that he'd lost the book, and that if he has to pay for the replacement, it is soooooo coming out of his own account. Money being only slightly less important to Brett than air, he doesn't take this well.

"If I pay for a new freaking book and Mike shows me that he's had it all along, do I get to pummel him?"

"No"

"Dip him in hot oil."

"No"

"Photoshop his head onto a snake?"

"Nope"

He sighs, forlorn. "My life is so rarely fun anymore. I wonder if I sell all of his stuff on ebay if I would get enough to pay for the new book."

Begging forgiveness

2008-09-13T12:47:00.005-04:00

I've been feeling rather overwhelmed and introspective lately. Lucas has had a few bumps in the road and I've been taking some time to help him get back on track and get him what he needs. Honestly, it's left me feeling a little sad and questioning my mommy-skills more than I'd care to admit.

So, I apologize for slacking on da splog. I hope to be feeling more like my offbeat, sarcastic self soon and posting more regularly. Until then, a few pics from Hurricane Ellen, which seems to strike every hour on the hour around here.

I can blame global warming for this, right?

Brettism Thursday! On Penacillin

2008-09-04T08:46:00.007-04:00

Last weekend was the big white water rafting trip, and despite the kids apparent inablity to row in time, the trip went smoothly and everyone enjoyed it. The next day Michelle and her family drove up for lunch before heading back to civilization.

All day Brett had been itching around his face, and when I looked closely I noticed that he had a rash extending down his torso. Ruling out everything else that he'd eaten or come into contact with I figured aloud that it was probably from the funky life vest in the water.

Seeing the spots on his stomach, he starts to get nervous. "What? What do I have?"

Michelle's husband, a prankster in a class by himself, chimes in. "You have the River Clap."

"WHAT? What is that?"

"Ask your teacher about it on Tuesday."

Brett chuckles with the rest of us, and looking slightly confused wanders off. A few days later he comes up to me in the kitchen.

"Mom, seriously, what is River Clap?"

"Brett remember when we had the talk about sex? The Clap is a slang term for a sexually transmitted disease. He was joking."

"Great, no wonder when I asked my teacher she told me she'd tell me next year and walked away laughing."

*This morning Curt remarked that tonight was the NFL's first Thursday night game of the season, and my little brain started tingling with the sensation that I'd forgotten something. Ever since my dear hubs starting working the new, funky schedule, I have even (more) trouble remembering what day it is. I promise to hop out of my fog and start posting more regularly. Pinky swear.

**Also, NFL? It's SEPTEMBER. Give a girl a break, would you?

Brettism Hump Day! Forever Young

2008-08-27T07:35:00.003-04:00

This last weekend the kids were with bio-dad and I got an email from him; because sometimes when you are in the middle of a Brett seize, no one else appreciates it like a fellow hostage.

Brett had been in a mood, deflecting blame and avoiding personal responsibility like only Brett can. That night as they are sitting down to dinner, Michael decides to use Tabasco sauce on his food.

"You know, if you could drink the whole bottle, you'd be a real man." Brett says to his brother.

Bio-dad comments that there is much more to being a man than performing a stupid stunt.

"Like what?" Brett asks.

"Well, for one taking care of your responsibilities, owning up when you do something wrong, and not try to blame everyone else." he says, tongue in cheek.

With a straight face, Brett replies "Well, then I'll be a boy forever."

Clean slate

2008-08-25T18:15:00.005-04:00

Today was the first day of school here and like any good blackmail-loving mom, I took pics. This year was a bit of a change up here as Brett joined Mike on the bus to the Jr/Sr high school and Emma started full days in first grade. *sobs*

I snuck up on them in pairs as they were leaving and asked them for a nice picture, even suggesting that Lucas might want to hug his sister.

I love setting them up.

If you look closely you'll see Brett straining to give Michael rabbit ears. This was the first thing he did when I asked them to stand together. Michael still has no idea.

Brett loves setting Michael up.

Despite a bus mix up with the younger two on the trip home, they all had great days. When Brett walked in after school, I anxiously asked him how middle school was.

"S'okay, I mean, it's school. I guess the bright side is that right now, I have straight A's."

I'd like to thank the academy...

2008-08-22T11:45:00.009-04:00

It hit me this morning that I have now exclusively breastfed Ellie for her first year, a feat I've never managed before. And while I am awfully proud of myself, what struck me most today was how damn grateful I am for all of the help and support I got. I'd be totally remiss if I didn't stop to express how just thankful I am to everyone.

I had the privilege of having some really cool online mommy friends, who shared their experiences and allowed me to see just how beautiful it could be. Who answered my 1001 questions about all things boobie related. Who pointed me in the direction of Janet Tamaro's brilliant book. And who helped me realize that the hard nursing times were just as normal as the wonderful ones.

And Curt, the most amazing husband and dad. Instead of looking at my boobs as a great excuse to check out of the whole feeding process, he gets up with us every single night feeding. He gets Elle, changes her diaper, and soothes her long enough for me use the bathroom and find my brain. And I never once have to ask him to do this, he always makes me feel like this is something that we are doing together.

The kids, who don't mind that dinner is sometimes a little late to the table, and who gladly fetch countless glasses of water. Although Brett did once ask me "If you know you are going to get thirsty when you do that, why don't you just get a drink before you sit down?"

And for Ellie, who not only was a natural from the get-go, but who inherited a very stubborn streak and still refuses any substitution to the real thing. But most importantly for melting my heart every time she looks up at me and smiles.

Recovery and adjustment

2008-08-22T08:29:00.009-04:00

I've spent the better part of the last week in a deep fog of self pity and denial. I'm not usually such a ninny, but having Brett become a teenager within days of Ellie turning one seems to have shaken me deep in my mommy core, and I've been teetering on a little maternal depression.

The party itself was a huge success. The weather was gorgeous, we had a ton of guests; and there was swimming, a campfire, tons of food, and lots of laughter. I even managed not to cry when we sang Happy Birthday. Well, on the outside anyway.

And in my attempt to make peace with it all, I'm finally posting the pictures from the weekend.

Then I'm going to pull my self up by my bootstraps and step back into the light.

Brettism Hump Day! Hope it floats

2008-08-20T12:05:00.004-04:00

My best friend and her family are coming for a visit soon, and the men-folk are taking the older kids white water rafting. Brett is just over the age limit and I debated about whether to ask him if he wanted to go, just because he's rather small for his age.

So I pulled up the website and the video showing the trek down the river they'd be going on. At the beginning of the video it shows all of the riders, decked out in life jackets and helmets sitting in front of the instructor demonstrating paddling.

"Wait, I have to like sit through a class and stuff?"

"Yes, they have to teach you how to do it safely."

"And you and Aunt Michelle will be here, just hanging out at the pool, relaxing?"

"I think that's the plan."

"Yeah, I'll go with that, no one needs to teach me how to lay around."

*Merde, he's decided to try it. Man, do I feel for that instructor.

Brettism Hump Day! Green card not necessary

2008-08-13T07:14:00.000-04:00

The planning for Brett and Ellie's birthday party is full swing, and the guest list includes most every family member we have, including geekie brother. Brett has been repeatedly asking for updates on his RSVP, and all of the kids are really excited about the possibility of seeing him, since we don't very often.

"Brett, did you invite Uncle Mathew?" Lucas asks.

"Invite him, I put him on the VIP list!" he replies.

A few days later, after asking again if Mathew will be able to make it, Brett comes up to me while I'm making dinner.

"Mom, what exactly does VIP stand for?"

"It stands for Very Important Person."

"Ohhhhh. I thought it stood for Very Imported Person since we have to import him in from Virginia."

Please pardon these hormones

2008-08-12T09:42:00.010-04:00

It's just that soon my baby, my wee little baby, will be a year old. Actually, in 8 days, 3 hours, and 25 minutes, if you're counting. Which I am.

I don't know why it's hit me so hard this time, afterall I've been here before. I supposed because, barring something that was surgically severed growing back, she's it. The caboose. The last baby.

And I know it's a cliche, but I can't believe how fast this year went by, how quickly she grew and changed. It seems like just yesterday that her little newborn-squishy-face was happily snuggled against me.

I know this is all sentimental and indulgent, but I wanted to get it out of my system before her actual birthday. That day I want to spend looking forward to the wonderful, amazing things I know she'll do in this life, and knowing what a privilege it is to be part of her journey.

Passing the torch

2008-08-09T08:29:00.014-04:00

Every summer when I was a kid we went to the local amusement park, and despite the dorky matching t-shirts we had to wear, I looked forward to that day all year. I loved the coasters, give me a few old wooden roller coasters and I'd ride until my legs were wobbily.

I'd always meant to take the kids, but it never seemed to come to fruition. Then, a few weeks ago Curt's work gave us tickets for the family to visit the park here. And I realized that I'd get to take the kids on their first rides, and began to really anticipate the trip. Sans dorky matching t-shirts.

Curt's mom and sister came with us and very nicely offered to sit with the four littlest ones, while Curt and I took Mike and Brett to the biggest coaster in the park. Brett was pretty silent the whole time we waited in line, and when I turned around and saw him, buckled in, ready for the ride to start, he was as white as a ghost, and I was glad we hadn't had lunch first. Mike and I screamed with glee the whole time, arms up in the air. Brett got off, paler than ever, and then said "Whoa. What are we going to ride next?"

We headed over the the kiddie rides and Evan made a beeline straight for the airplanes. Then the motorcycles, then to the helicopters. Filled with trepidation in real life of new things, he was utterly fearless at the park. Curt and I even took him on the baby roller coaster.

We got in line for the Jack Rabbit, one of the few grown up coasters Emma was tall enough for. I'll never forget seeing her and Curt sitting in the very front car smiling at each other and laughing.

I took all of them on the Log Ride and Lucas got his first taste of what a drop felt like. Emboldened I talked him into getting on The Racer, and he clung tight to me the whole ride, looking shocked. We pulled back in to exit, and still not cracking a smile, looked up at me and said "That was awesome."

Michael was fearless, cut from the same cloth as Curtis, always looking for something bigger, faster, more thrilling. And they found it, the Skycoaster. Which isn't really a coaster at all, but a free fall. Suited in a harness, suspended from cables, and then dropped 180 feet. *gulp* I toyed with the idea of going, I really did, but apparently by bad-assery only extends to things with seats. Here's the pic from the website. Just sitting here looking at this makes my hands sweaty.

I handed my ticket off to Curt's sister and they headed to the ride, as the rest of us watched safe on the ground with funnel cakes. I couldn't believe how fast they came down, or how loud Michael was. They flew threw the air with such speed I had a hard time getting good pictures, I did finally snap this one when they slowed down.

The day was a huge success, and as I was loading the pictures on to the computer this morning, Emma came up and asked if she'd be big enough for "the really fun coasters" next year.

I can hardly wait.

Brettism Hump Day! Mortally wounded

2008-08-06T07:20:00.000-04:00

A couple of weekends ago, the kids went down to bio-dad's for a visit. He'd bought a small motorbike, and after careful explanations and safety discussions, Lucas hopped on for a ride. Bio-dad tells me that he did great, going in slow careful circles, getting the feel for the thing. Brett, not quite too big for it, and not to be outdone by a younger sib, asked for a turn. Brett started out fine, completing the circuit almost flawlessly. Coming back towards the group of them though, he apparently forgets where the brake is and panics. His legs slip out and he hangs on by the handlebars before wiping out.

His dad gets over to him and helps him back up. "Are you okay? Is anything broken?"

Brett looks up from his scraped elbow, "Just my self esteem."

Mental note...

2008-08-05T19:46:00.005-04:00

Never tell a complaining teenager to "get creative" when entertaining the baby so you can cook.

And yeah, I have no idea why he decided to wear his sunglasses indoors. But considering some of the crap his contemporaries are pulling, I'm just going to thank my lucky stars and call it a day.

If you were the individual honking at the lady pulling weeds in her garden while wearing her pajamas...

2008-08-04T12:24:00.014-04:00

Let me just clear up a few things. See, a few weeks ago Curt started a new job. A much better job; with great benefits, excellent pay, and making annually what he did for the last company, only working 16 days a month instead of 29. The downside? It's 12 hour shifts and *gulp* he rotates between days and nights.

For the first two weeks he was in training and leaving at a respectable 6 and coming home at 4. Even the first week in Operations wasn't too rough, he had the 5am-5pm shift. Life was good.

But last night was the first 5pm-5am shift. And the preparations began Saturday night when Curt decided to stay up as late as possible to try and acclimate. Which apparently works best if you watch movies in bed, and talk to your wife about them until she very subtly puts a pillow over her head.

And now that it's for real, it's proving to be harder than I thought. To keep the house as quiet as possible I can't properly clean anything during the day. The kitchen is off of the hallway to our room and just doing the dishes makes a hella racket. The vacuum is out. I can't even really put folded clothes away, instead piling them up on the back of the couch, hoping Evan doesn't knock them down.

And there are only so many pretend "whispering" games you can play with a rambunctious toddler and a very mobile walking baby. This morning I had to serve breakfast in shifts of two, just to keep the din to a minimum. Lunch was served al fresco while we played and weeded the garden.

And not to sound mushy, but it took me forever to fall asleep alone last night; and of course, Elle decided to get up twice during the night before finally starting her day at 6am. Just when Daddy was rolling in.

This was all a little rough, but do-able. It wasn't until about 8 o'clock this morning when I realized I'd really screwed the pooch. I took Elle back to her room for her nap and was half way to my room to get dressed when I remembered that the sleeping ogre was in there. With my clothes. And my toothbrush and deodorant.

So as weird as I'm sure I looked from the road, still in my pajamas, hunched over the squash, trust me when I tell you that it was even more special up close and in person.

If he talks in his sleep, I'm pretty sure it's to get the last word

2008-08-02T10:14:00.003-04:00

I brought the kids outside yesterday afternoon to kill the time before I had to trudge back into the kitchen to make dinner. Everyone mostly enjoyed this but Brett, who was on restriction from his bike and spent the whole time alternating between looking dejected and bugging the snot out of me.

"How much longer until I can ride my bike? If I do really good with my chores tonight can I have it back a day early?"

"Um, no."

"Well can we go swimming? I'll help Mike clean it."

"No, we can't Brett."

"Well can I at least have a freaking snack?"

"No, it's almost dinner time."

"Just some pretzels, I've really been craving some pretzels."

"You know what I'm craving Brett? Some peace and quiet."

He slumps and walks off mumbling "It'd be real silent if my mouth were filled with pretzels."

Three degrees of separation

2008-08-01T07:02:00.005-04:00

Last night right before we were to give the kids baths Curt remembers that he is out of green tea for his lunches. Which in husband speak translates to 'Please, please, please go get me some tea or I will whine like a girl until you want to stab your ear drums out with a rusty nail'. I left him in charge and headed over to the store by our house before it closed.

Ten minutes later I'm walking in the door as he is carrying Ellie down the hall like she's toxic waste, a look of sheer disgust and terror on his face.

"Oh my god, I was bathing Emma and Lucas and I went into our bathroom to get a towel, and Ellie wandered into the bathroom and started playing in the toilet."

"Um, okay."

"Well, Emma went pee right before she got into the tub and then didn't flush and Ellie grabbed some of the toilet paper and put it into her mouth." He looks close to vomiting. Ellie is still dangling from his outstretched arms like a worm on a hook. The worm is still making 'Nom, nom, nom' noises.

We're sitting on the couch after the disinfection, still mentally shuddering, looking down at Ellie who is playing on the floor.

I turn to him "You know later, she's going to put that mouth on my nipple."

He's silent for a moment and then adds "And then after that, I'm going to have to put my mouth on that nipple."

So close, yet Zzzzzzzz

2008-07-31T06:30:00.004-04:00

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

2008-07-30T06:51:00.000-04:00

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!

2008-07-28T13:47:00.008-04:00

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

2008-07-28T07:30:00.003-04:00

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

2008-07-23T14:58:00.003-04:00

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

2008-07-22T11:08:00.008-04:00

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

2008-07-18T11:02:00.000-04:00

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

2008-07-17T08:05:00.004-04:00

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

2008-07-16T09:03:00.000-04:00

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

2008-07-14T08:33:00.009-04:00

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

2008-07-13T11:41:00.003-04:00

But the evidence begs to differ...

Brettism Hump Day! Older, not so much wiser.

2008-07-09T10:42:00.000-04:00

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

2008-07-09T07:27:00.011-04:00

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

2008-07-08T09:33:00.004-04:00

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

2008-07-03T21:25:00.004-04:00

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

Wimpy

2008-07-03T14:18:00.004-04:00

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.

2008-07-02T18:17:00.004-04:00

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."

Out of the mouth of male babes, part 2

2008-06-28T09:18:00.002-04:00

Yesterday morning when the older four headed off to camp (aka mommy-salvation), it started to rain. Evan and I played for a while and then he ping pong-ed around looking forlorn. I had a few errands to run in town so I told him that when Ellie woke up from her nap we would go for a ride in the car, and then stop and get a snack.

Ellie woke up and Evan immediately sprung into action, donning his Crocs with gusto. I explained that I still had to feed Ellie, and he stood silently by the door, watching as she ate. I sat her down when she was done and then flitted from room to room gathering up what I needed. I set the bags down by the front door and then ran back to use the bathroom before we finally hit the road.

When I got back and Evan looked up at me, and in a very tiny, exasperated voice asked "Is you ready now?"

Brettism Hump Day has writers block

2008-06-25T08:24:00.004-04:00

I probably have the only children alive who dread the warm weather.

The rule around these parts is that once it's warm enough to go outside and play, the video games disappear and the television becomes more monitored.

It's almost kind of funny, in a sad way, to watch them go through the withdrawal. In the same way that a ex-smoker might reach for their pack of cigarettes, their little fingers will twitch like they're playing the Wii. And then, after a few weeks of unrest comes a depressed resignation.

This morning as the rest of the kids were hunkered down in the living room waiting to leave for summer camp, I looked over to see that Brett wasn't among them. I called his name and he replied from the kitchen table.

"What are you doing?"

"Writing" he answers in a soft monotone.

"Writing what?"

He comes around the corner and stands in the doorway. "A list."

"Um, okay. A list of what?"

"A list of things and ideas of things to do because I'm trapped here all summer without video games or television or anything else fun to do."

"Oh yeah, what's on the list?"

"Nothing yet, all I've got is the title, I can't think of a single freaking thing to put on the list."

"What's the title?"

"I just told you. A list of things and ideas of things to do because I'm trapped here all summer without video games or television or anything else fun to do."

T-minus

2008-06-22T10:11:00.003-04:00

The other day Brett, Emma, and I are hanging out watching an episode of Jon and Kate + 8 when Brett turns to me.

"Hey, when their kids start to move out, will they call it 'Jon and Kate - 8?"

I laugh, "Maybe, although we'll be doing the countdown before they do, their kids are younger."

"Oh, yeah!" he starts blocking off letters in the air, "Curt and Caroline, the final countdown!" He begins to sing the Europe song and play the air guitar.

"Yes Brett, and you are going to be one of our test pilots."

He looks sobered. "Oh well, I got a few years." he says, and then dances out of the room, singing. "It's not quite the finnnnaaaal countdown. "

This post is long overdue

2008-06-20T09:32:00.006-04:00

My husband and children now think I am a culinary genius, and if I were a slightly less scrupulous woman, I'd take all of the credit for it, but alas...damn conscience.

It all started when I requested help making ribs that didn't, well, suck. A very cool Angie and her hubs, Chef Elvis sent some rib rub and a container of something magical, called Elvis mojo.

These two items arrived in an ordinary looking cardboard box, but were wrapped in a large piece of butcher's paper, which were covered in instructions to make the ribs. Clearly Chef Elvis knows his audience.

I've yet to make the ribs, because I'm saving this secret weapon for the fourth of July. Behold! A night of fireworks and explosively tasty ribs! (I'll keep you posted)

But the mojo, oh, the mojo. I honestly have no idea what is in this mixture, it could be ground up beetles and frogs feet and I wouldn't care.

The first time I used this stuff, I added it to ground beef and made hamburgers. Now, trying something new here is always akin to playing Russian Roulette; you just never know when it's going to blow up in your face.

So, I held my breath and served them up. I tried not to appear anxious, peering up from my plate, watching Curt take a bite.

"Honey, what's in these burgers?" he asked. Crap. Doom. Any time he notices I've done something differently, it's always followed by skepticism and usually a half eaten meal. The man hates change.

"Um, a little of some stuff." I replied feebly. "Why?"

"Because I don't know what you did, but do it again, this is a seriously good burger!"

And that was just the beginning! I sprinkle it on chicken, pork, even fish, and it all SINGS. It's glorious, it's like fabulous for dummies! I meant to take pics of some of the finished products, and post them PW-style, but I'd get so wrapped up and excited that I kept eating the props.

So, I'm coming clean. My name is Caroline and I am a mojo addict.

Score one for management

2008-06-19T20:14:00.001-04:00

Report cards came in the mail this week. Brett pried his open, glanced down long enough to make sure that he wasn't going to spend the summer on parole and then asked to play the Wii.

Lucas barely gave his a passing glance, his general attitude that any envelope that doesn't contain money is a waste of paper.

Emma showed hers off to the house requesting that everyone "Look at all of those sweet S's I got.".

Michael was probably the most antsy to see his. All year it's been a battle to get him to pull his head out of his ass long enough to remember that he was actually sent to school every day to learn things and not to notice when Lana changes colors of nail polish. Countless discussions about averages, passing, and the fact THAT HE'S NOT LIVING HERE WHEN HE'S 34 raged all year.

He found his on the desk, read over it, and then turned to me.

"Hey remember last month when you said if I passed all of my classes for the year that you would buy me an Appetite for Destruction CD?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Well, I brought up all of my grades in the last semester up enough, and I passed."

"Not health, you failed health Mike. You failed the class that every kid sleeps through and aces in school."

"But wait, when you made me the promise, I'd already failed health for the year; I had it at the beginning of the year."

"Yeah, and?"

Brettism Hump Day! Keeping it PG rated

2008-06-18T20:09:00.005-04:00

If I can manage it, after dinner I make a run for my bedroom, leaving poor Curt stranded in my wake. I hole up on the bed, remote in hand and watch the news. The whole while Elle paroles the hallway, looking to get soused, boob-a-holic that she is. She's not really hungry, but just tired and cranky enough to want to clamp down on my nipple for the next hour, popping off intermittently to squawk at Evan. As you might imagine, it's a lot more fun for her than for me.

I was all snuggled up tonight when there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" I asked wearily.

"Can I get your trash madam?" Brett intones in his best Jeeves voice. Gathering all of the trash from the cans his one of his nightly chores.

"Oh, like room service!" I joke.

"Yeah, just don't ask me to turn down the sheets or fluff anything. I'm not a fluffer."

The beginning of the end

2008-06-17T19:45:00.005-04:00

The kids came home from four days with bio-dad and Emma made a beeline for me to show me that she was a tooth poorer and a dollar richer. Not only that, but I'm fairly certain that she grew three inches and gained 5 pounds while she was gone. (If she didn't, than I know I did)

It just made me a little sad, like this was the last part of her baby-ness, and now it's gone. She'll loose her teeth, grow adult ones, start worrying about what boys think of her, spend colossal amounts of time on the phone with girlfriends, and then go off to college. AND I WILL HAVE TO LET HER GO. I will wake up one day and she won't be down the hall. Instead of nodding absentmindedly at her chatter at lunch, I will be the mother calling her up daily, desperate to hear snippets from her life.

We'll just call this poor mommy planning

2008-06-15T07:13:00.003-04:00

Earlier this week Curt asked if I minded if we had the family over for a picnic on Sunday. I'm fairly certain I was surfing the interwebben when he asked, because I only have a vague recollection of absentmindedly replying.

At any rate, it's Sunday morning here. Yesterday Curt spent all day mowing the farm on the tractor, and he's toasted. (Perhaps later I will butter him?) The house needs a serious lick and a promise, it's Sunday so the sheets need to be washed, I have pasta salad to make, Elle has been demanding boob and/or comfort every few minutes, and Evan just woke up like a minature Henry VIII and we will all be headless in a moment.

And I feel obligated to let him continue to sit on the couch and watch mindless man movies.

Happy Father's Day honey, I love you.

Wiggly

2008-06-12T07:06:00.003-04:00

Last week Emma asked me for an apple, took one nibble and then announced to anyone in listening range that she had a loose tooth. After that, if she were able, I'm fairly certain that she would have alerted CNN on a regular basis. Clearly the public at large needs to be apprised of her dental status.

Day 1: Discovers loose tooth, decides she cannot risk eating the apple as it may rip her tooth out, causing massive trauma and blood. And really, how do you band-aid that? Lucas obliges and finishes apple. Well, except for that one part where Emma's tooth marks were.

Day 2: Comes up to me whimpering because she is scared of loosing the tooth. Will it hurt? Will it be gross and rip out some of the pink stuff under the tooth? Can I have a marshmallow, because those are pretty soft and won't hurt "toothy"?

Day 3: Announces that she had a dream and "toothy" fell out. Toothy gets lost in the bed and then is stolen by Lucas so that he may pass it off as his own and get her dollar. Have to stop her from trying to pummel Lucas for imagined, dreamt theft.

Day 4: Spends the entire day fingering the tooth, decidedly impatient that tooth is no looser than it was after the first bite of apple. Accidentally bites finger.

Day 5: Declares that she thinks toothy is no longer loose and that she's really glad that she's not loosing a tooth because obviously this might cause her to look silly until the big tooth comes in, and Lucas has two different sized teeth right now and that looks really silly. And besides, Janey hasn't lost any teeth yet, clearly we cannot go this alone. Isn't mommy relieved that toothy isn't loose too?

Indeed.

Brettism Hump Day wants Starbucks

2008-06-11T17:47:00.003-04:00

We're sitting at dinner when Lucas turns to Curt and asks "When Michael moves out will we sell this house?"

Brett laughs, "Yeah, and we won't tell him where the new house is."

"Don't worry, I won't want to know. I'll live far, far away." Michael replies.

"Yeah, he'll probably move right next to Jessica Simpson just to get a closer look at her."

"Brett, you hit the nail on the coffin!" Michael says proudly.

Curt and I start to chuckle in spite of ourselves and Brett joins in.

"Wait, why are we laughing?" he asks.

"Because Michael gets more expressions wrong than he does right." I reply.

"Yeah Mike, you got that wrong. I think it's the last nail in the coffin." he gets very serious "I've had coffin once. I didn't like it much unless it has cream and sugar in it."

Cooties

2008-06-08T07:15:00.003-04:00

Brett was the first up this morning and Curt offered to take him on his early morning Lowe's run (Paint Gate 2008, solved!). We're standing in the kitchen kissing goodbye and Brett looks over to see us.

"Save it for the honeymoon." he quips.

I grin "Brett, every day is a honeymoon."

"Exactly why I'm never getting married."

Only because I like Tracey's barrette

2008-06-05T08:35:00.004-04:00

And apparently her haircut.

Took this for Sweetney's 'Come as you are' submission, because if they start cloning humans we all need a Tracey in the neighborhood.

Still drinking my tea in Curt's wife-beater and my nursing bra, this is how I spent the start of most of my days. Surfing the interwebben and trying not to spill cereal on the keyboard.

Brettism Hump Day wants tzaziki

2008-06-04T08:45:00.000-04:00

Last night as we were coming back from Grandma S's, Brett asked what dinner was. He caught me off guard and instead of my usual evasive answer I told him.

"Hamburgers or Falafel" I immediately mentally facepalmed myself because introducing something new is always iffy, and it's best to just spring in on the little punks, sans warning.

He shrugged. "As long as it doesn't taste awful. Get it?? Falafel tastes awful!!"

Still mentally facepalming.

Now we are six

2008-06-01T07:52:00.008-04:00