Heaven or Hell, It's Going Somewhere

My computer is broken.

Don't know if it's dead or dying, but I'm pretty sure it's at least seen the light, and going towards it.

From this end, it means I can say "I told you so" at least 53 more times to my husband and that my house is VERY clean for the first time in several months.

From your end, it means no mud puppies, no speech impediments, no ghetto walmerts encounters, etc. Oh, I'LL still be enjoying such things---just you won't.

I'm sorry for your loss.

So, let's take this time, while I'm gone, to get to know each other.

I love "ask any question" posts because you get to know things you might not otherwise know.

So, I'm doing that---ask a question.

There's just one catch:
I want you to answer it for yourself, along with the question. If it's specific to me and my life circumstances and doesn't apply to you, obviously, you don't have to answer it. Feel free to ask anything. It's not like you can force me to answer anything I don't want to---right?

Won't this be so fun!?

Also, take the time to say "yo" or "hey" or "sup" if you haven't ever commented before. That way you won't come off as a complete weirdo asking me what kind of shampoo I use. Some people call this "Delurking" but I don't really think of people who read and don't comment as lurkers.

I like to think of them as, My Silent Friends.

The computer gives me about 4 good minutes and then blue screen appears, so I'm going to save myself some frustration and wait for it to be fixed.

Could be 2-3 days, could be 2-3 weeks.
HA! Like I could really last that long without my Teh Internets.

To help tie you over (I'm not even sure that's the correct phrase) I'll leave you with an early morning Pokemon conversation:

Bo:Hi mom. Can you buy me a pack of Pokemon cards?

Groggy Mom: No

Whyyyyyyy?

Because I don't want to spend my money on Pokemon cards, I don't think you need them and the ones you have gotten from other kids, you don't even really care about or take care of.

Yes I do.

Then why has Danyo managed to eat both Digemon and Pikachu, not to mention half of an energy card?

Hahahaha! You're joking, right?

Sort of. But I've thrown away cards, I have taken them from Danyo, I've picked them up off of the floor dozens of times---that tells me you really don't care that much about them.

But I do care. I want some reeeeeeeeaaaaaaal bad.

Well, you can buy some, you have a lot of money you've saved up for your Wii.

I'm not spending my Wii money on Pokemon cards.

Exactly.

How about this? How about you give me my allowance, and I'll put it in my money jar for the Wii, and then you can give me a little bit more, for some Pokemon cards.

That's the same as me buying them. I'm not spending my money on Pokemon cards.

Okay, okay. Howwwwwwwww abooouuuuuuut...we go to the bank, and you know those round things with black tops? You put some papers in that, then push the green button and make it go, then they can send it back with money in it and I can use it to buy some cards.

Uhhh, that's the money Daddy earns by going to work and working hard every day.

He doesn't work on Saturdays and Sunday.

You're funny, Mr. Literal.

Ha! That's a funny name. So, can we use Dad's money to buy me some cards?

Nope, Dad is even more opposed than I am. Remember, he said you couldn't even watch Pokemon until you could give him three good reasons of why you like the show.

Yeah. I can't think of three reasons, but I really want to watch it.

Here's the bottom line Bo. I don't think you need Pokemon cards. And I'm a pretty nice mom. I give you everything that you need. Like clothes and shoes and swimming trunks and food and blankets for your bed. I also give you a lot of things you want, like an Omnitrix watch, Ben 10 figurines, goggles, a light saber, a bike, and lots of other toys that are overflowing in the basement. So, I'm probably pretty sure you don't need the Pokemon cards if I'm saying no. You really don't have to have something just because someone else does. For example, do you think Caleb would like a Ben 10 watch?

Yeah! Let's get him one!

No, I just mean, he probably wants one, he doesn't have one and you do, but that doesn't mean he needs to get one.

Well he could.

You're missing the point.

So, can I get some Pokemon cards?

No.

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

Because I Haven't Done Random In A While

Yesterday I was rushing out the door to get my kids to vacation bible experience (yeah, it is "experience"---whatever happened to good ol' fashioned "school"?) and to meet my friend at the Y for her first time at boot camp. In my rush, I took only one step onto the 3 fairly tall steps outside my back door. That step, I turned my ankle and flew down the rest. I was holding Danyo. Big girls like me should not be falling like that. I turned my body as much as I could on the flight down so that Danyo would be protected. As clumsy as I may be, I'm still a considerate mother.

Avee started wailing, "nooooooo mommy, NOOOO GET UP GET UP!"

Danyo was at first silent, I think the whole thing just shocked him. Then he started crying. And recently he has taken up screaming. That's like the one thing in a child I can't handle. And I got lucky. He doesn't just scream when he's mad. He walks around the house just letting out random gleeful screams.

So, there I am, laying on the ground, two kids screaming, Bo saying, "Whoa! How'd you do that!?" He always thinks accidents are some amazing feat that are planned and choreographed.

I started saying, "I'm okay, I'm okay" to calm Avee and to convince myself. Danyo was completely okay.

One of my neighbors saw the whole thing.

Honestly, traumatized kids, bruised body, wounded pride---being seen falling like that was the worst.

I told him that I was okay, but to pick up Danyo and make sure he was.

Everyone was fine but I wasn't feeling too motivated to get up off my back.

When it quickly became more unacceptable than the moment before to still be lying on my back, I slowly got up.

I took my kids to VBE and limped all the way through the building finding their rooms.

I even thought I could still manage boot camp, but by the time I got there, it was half over and my ankle was throbbing.

As per usual, my ankle is my least painful injury. My shoulder is killing me, I have a bruise the size and shape of Texas on my derry-rear and my whole right leg is just kind of stiff and unfriendly.

When we got in the car, Bo said,"That was so funny, wasn't it mom?"

Again, with the inappropriate responses.

Then last night, I said crabbily to J, "I don't know! I haven't felt like talking to anyone today, I'm just not in the mood to deal with anyone." And he, without thinking, but trying to be understanding said, "Well, it's okay, you kind of got off on the wrong..." then he paused, thinking twice about using that particular phrase---even though he was thinking by then that he was pretty clever. I laughed. Even though it wasn't funny. At all.

And that is all I have to say about that.

In other news, Bo appears to have lost his hearing and I don't think I can take another incident of REPEATING MYSELF. I hate repetition in the first place. And nobody told me that repetition was first and foremost on the duty list of parenting.

Today while running a few long overdue errands with baby D, I heard a song on the radio. The chorus made me laugh out loud. I've decided that whoever coined the word "badonkadonk" is a literary genius. From the Subway commercials to Tracy Morgan to this new non-objectifying-of-women-what-so-ever, country song, it always makes me laugh. Put honkey tonk in front of it, and it's even better.

Avee told me yesterday that I "crack her up". Well, it was more, "Oh man mom, you cwack me up!" I thought it was adorable. I love how these squishy little bald things that lay around turn into little mini redheads with cute laughs and funny phrases.

Danyo loves to walk backwards. I have never had a backwards walker like this. I think he likes the challenge of it. Which is a personality trait that Avee also has. They got it from a great, great, great, great grandparent who was a pioneer. I can't think of anyone in either of our immediate families who willingly seeks out danger and precarious situations often resulting in bodily harm, like Avee, and now Daniel.

So, I've noted the backward walking and thought it just the cutest thing ever. Because I am a very typical mom and kind find cute and genius in just about anything my child does. Well now, he has started crawling backwards. Dude, is it backward or backwards? I dunno.

He does it in an exaggerate slow way and combines it with an expression like he's backing away from something very dangerous. Usually it's me. He's not entirely wrong. I just wonder how little 1 year old kids come up with the stuff they come up with. I know some things are imitation, but I'm pretty sure he came up with this all by himself. See? Genius!

Okay, I'm boring even myself now.

Edited to add:
After picking up the kids from VBE, I took them to get lunch. Avee's chocolate milk got thrown away. I forced Bo to give Avee a sip of his. It spilled, all over the sidewalk. They both started bawling and I laughed out loud as I stood here in the hot sun, with two screaming kids, late for my next appointment, while they cried over spilled milk.

Because I don't want to forget...

"Dad, when you are counting by 10's, what comes after a jillion?"

And later...

Referring to a throat culture (which he got on his 5th birthday and FREAKED OUT about), "Mom, what's that thing they check your throat with at the doctor's office?"

"The thing that looks like a big popsicle stick?"

"No."

"Oh yeah, you mean when they swab your throat?"

"Yeah! So, that's what they do to get the slob out of your throat."

Mud Puppy

Danyo recently discovered a mud puddle and it's pretty much impossible to keep him out of it. Since he's my third, I have a lot less concern for cleanliness and a lot more desire for the absence of screaming/whining.

And so, he plays in the mud puddle.

Let me back up.

A couple of weeks ago I was "bragging" to my mom how my children never get away from me and are never found 3 blocks away in a diaper, holding up traffic, etc. A few days ago she asked nonchalantly, "Does Danyo ever get outside when you aren't looking?" I quickly changed the subject because JUST THAT DAY I found him for the first time, 20 feet away from our house, splashing in a mud puddle, covered in mud.

So, the next time we went outside, I came armed with my camera. I want you to know, I kept filming for you. And also to prove the good naturedness of this boy. (The entire video won't load, but he sings at the end! Sorry you'll miss it)

Unfortunately for you, you will be exposed to my drunk lady wheezy laugh. For that, I am sorry.

Celery

Bo has been, for some time now, a bit obsessed with a show called Ben 10. I have always loved ANYTHING to do with my name, so I kind of get it. You can imagine how many things I've found to do with the name Nobody...

The show is a little over his head. I mean, the premise isn't, and it's pretty awesome for a wee 5 year old----but he barely gets more than "superhero alien".

His age comes out particularly when he's referring to the different aliens by name.

A few months ago he kept talking about one of the aliens, "Sh*tway". Of course it made me laugh but I couldn't figure out what word he was replacing, to see if I could find out the real name of the alien. When I finally googled about 12 different things, I found his name, Jetway. I tried to tell Bo that his name was Jetway---just to save both of us some future embarrassment, but he wasn't interested. He was sure I was wrong. After all, I hadn't watched the show.

Last Sunday our neighbor called to see if we had any cream of mushroom soup for his roast. We didn't and he asked for cream of celery as a substitute. Celery is a bad word in this house, so we didn't have that either. J mentioned how he couldn't believe people would willingly use cream of celery as a substitute and unbeknownst to us, Bo's interest was piqued with all the talk of celery.

I kept hearing him use a phrase along with the name of one of the Ben 10 aliens. I hear all kinds of random things as a result of what's on tv, so I didn't really pay attention. I just figured, the alien XLR8 was the alien of the hour.

Later that night at dinner he and Avee were objecting to some green beans I made, without having tasted them. I told Bo, "they have the same sauce on them that is in your favorite casserole, I know you'll like them."

He asked excitedly, "Oh really? It's made with cream of accelerate?"

I had written all about this and was waiting to publish, when...
Yesterday Bo was recounting to me his afternoon of participation in a "fun week" that our 9 year old friend is doing to raise some money for the summer. He talks nonstop about it. He was telling me about the snack. I told you celery is a bad word in our house---he didn't even know what it was. "This green log thing that you can put cheese or peanut butter on, I got mine with both". I said, "Oh yeah, that green stuff is called celery, is that what it was?"

"Yeah, yeah! It was accelerate and peanut butter!"

Short Story Made Long

The other day my neighbor was taking a walk with her son and my kids wanted to join them. J was the one outside with them, and he agreed to let them go on the walk.

After 30 minutes passed, I started to feel a little uncomfortable. In general, I am a very easy-going person. And even in most of the ways I parent, I'm quite laid-back. But there are some things I have become increasingly neurotic about and some things that I'm ever so obsessive about. Most of those things have to do with my children. A couple have to do with chocolate and Bon Jovi.

After 40 minutes had passed, I turned to J and said, "You know, I don't let my kids go with just anyone, and I'm kind of a mess right now with them being gone this long."

J was, as he should have been, very surprised. He said, "But, you watch her kid every day, I figured it wouldn't matter."

"Right, I watch her child, she doesn't watch mine. I let her son into my house, but my kids don't go into her's."

I know most of my friends are particular just like this, so I know I'm not being a snob. Fact is, I actually don't have any problem with this woman. I like her a lot. But she has a boyfriend. Who lives with her. That she knew less than 3 months before he moved in. Who's "shady past" she has referred to in conversation with me. And of course, I can go from shady past to drive-by-shooting in under two seconds, when my kids are involved. Tori, I know you do the same, don't even pretend you're less neurotic than me. :)

So, while I have been very kind (not charitable, I genuinely like the girl), and have even started babysitting her little boy a couple of hours a day, I also have been careful to keep firm boundaries.

I have also been judgmental (in my mind of course) and critical (also in my mind, I think my own husband would be shocked to learn I was being critical...) that some people let other people into their homes after a very brief period of getting to know that person, and allow their child to be left in that person's care for hours at a time.

I remember watching some interview with Amber Frey---right around the time Scott Peterson and his creepy self was big news---and the interviewer said to Amber, "You let him pick your child up from daycare!?" all incredulous-like. I started thinking about that and I thought the interviewer was kind of dumb, but that there were probably a lot of people like that who trusted their kids to people they didn't even know. My neighbor, one of them.

Her little guy went to his grandma's last week for a couple of days so I didn't have him. He didn't show up again today so I peeked outside and saw her car, that she was home from work. Tonight I went over to check up and to see if I would have her son tomorrow.

She opened the door and looked like she'd been run over by a truck. She was crying and clearly had been for at least the last 48 hours.

The boyfriend moved out on Friday. She's pregnant. He took all her money.

Aside from being completely idiotic in letting this guy into her life in the first place, she's really got her stuff together. She keeps her home nice, she drives a nice car, she has a good job as a nurse, she takes good care of her son and she really has her act together. She never once mentioned things being tight to me, until the dude moved in. Now he's left her strapped, pregnant, and without childcare.

Even with all my judging, my heart just breaks for her. Despite the fact that he was an idiot before she picked him up and she still picked him up, she's still a girl who got her heart broken. I stayed and talked to her for 45 minutes and the tears didn't stop once. I didn't know what to say. I said a lot of, "man, what a jerk" and "I'm so sorry" but that was pretty much the extent of what I had to offer.

She just really wanted her mom, but when her mom learned that she'd been "dumped" just walked away and changed the subject.

I wished I could give her some of my peace. I felt bad for her, but part of my mind couldn't help but to go to thoughts of "I don't have to deal with this kind of crap." I knew that I would be going home to my husband who wasn't the man of my dreams, because as big as I dreamed, I never dreamed I'd marry someone as amazing as him. I knew that if I was feeling sad, my mom would comfort me, even if she didn't agree with the subject of my sadness. If I needed to gripe about my husband my mom would be there to say, "Get over it Nobody, they don't come any better than J." I knew that even when your heart feels like it's going to break, there is an end, and I can find comfort.

As much as this isn't really about me, I'd like to make it so. I see this is a learning experience. Whenever I encounter things like this, my response is always to rescue and try to fix everything. It's not my job. I want to give her a wad of cash that I don't have. I want to tell her not to bring home men she doesn't know. While I don't think that would go over so well, I think it's pretty helpful advice. I think she will probably learn from this. I really hope she does because this is an awful rotten thing to have to learn the hard way.

Berry Bush Conference Calls

Bad Mom Alert:
Sometimes Bo comes downstairs and plays on the computer or watches tv while I'm still asleep in the morning.

The kid is painfully trustworthy. He comes and asks me if he can have some rootbeer if he promises to drink a lot of water right after. This strange request comes after a day last week when he kept just popping open cans of soda whenever he felt like it and went a couple of days with no other form of hydration. (the reason he went so soda happy is because we rarely have soda in the house, and he's an opportunistic little fella) Then, we went to the park on a hot day and he got sick from playing so hard and not being hydrated. Yakked all over himself on the drive home. I took the opportunity, as we drove, him with tids and bits of previous meals all over him, to teach him about the importance of water in our bodies.

When he came and asked "Can I have some rootbeer and a lot of water right after it?" I heard, "Can I have a granola bar and a lot of water with it?" I was so very tired. I thought it strange he was asking permission for a granola bar, but I thought the whole water part was more strange. But of course, I mumbled "yes, of course" and rolled over, back to sleep.

Then a few minutes later he showed up with a water bottle full of brown carbonation goodness, asking me to fix the lid so none would spill. More proof that the kid is painfully trustworthy. In our house, drinks stay in the kitchen. However, sometimes I let them have a drink in the living room if it's in a spill-proof bottle, like a sippy cup or a water bottle. He obviously wasn't going to sit in the kitchen by himself, and even though there was no mean mommy around to enforce it, he played by the rules. He is so his father's son.

I said, "Why do you have rootbeer at 6:30 am Bo?" And he said, "You told me I could!" Realizing that I was not coherent or entirely sober, I took his word for it and went back to sleep.

Please don't call DFS on me. But if you must---have them come in the afternoon. So that I can be sure that I'm awake.

And done beating my children.

So yesterday morning Bo was next to my bed bright and early, asking me if it was 8:30 yet. When I told him it was a long ways from 8:30, he said, "Oh good, I don't want to miss 8:30, I'm meeting Caleb!" I thought that was adorable and precious, and I went back to sleep.

At 8:45 he asked again. I told him that it was 8:30. Figuring that he was asking about a cartoon that started at 8:30. I've made the mistake in the past of saying that 8:30 had already passed and then there's a huge meltdown because he's missed 15 minutes of something completely meaningless. And I am a fast learner, if I'm anything. So I don't make that mistake and at our house, it can be any time of the day for any number of reasons, at any given moment.

He grabs his purple light saber (his choice, not mine!) and heads for the front door. He calls out, "All right! I'll see you later mom! I have to go meet Caleb at the berry bush!"

This made me burst out laughing for several reasons. First, he actually thought that at 5 years old, he could just head out the door and call out, "See you later" and that wouldn't be a problem.

Second, "berry bush". That just makes me laugh.

And thirdly, that he and Caleb had a predetermined time and place set up. Do 5 year old kids really do that?

I laughed, told him he couldn't go, calmed down his concerns about standing up his friend, and promised to call his house to make sure another 5 year old kid wasn't standing around some berry bush "at the bottom of the hill" waiting.

I called Caleb's mom and we had a good laugh.

Nice cute story, eh?

Later at about 2:30 Caleb came and knocked on our door. Bo was napping (because he gets up before God intended man to get up, and when I tell him that he says, "I get up when my body has all the rest it needs") so I told Caleb, "Bo's asleep, but as soon as he's awake, I'll tell him to come and get you to play."

Caleb nodded. He was okay with this arrangement. He hopped down the steps and about 3 feet away, turned around scrambled back to the front door.

"You'll have to have him call my mom to call me because I will be at the berry bush!"

I so wish I could be a fly on the wall for their conversations.

"Okay, after my nap, and after you finish all your vegetables, lets totally get together at the berry bush and we'll have a quarterly reconciliation meeting and go over the profit plan for fiscal year '09."

JJMAC

Dear Jen,

Remember when we used to talk on the phone 2, 3, 4 times a week; sometimes for an hour or two? Remember when we could do that and we probably never really had anything to say? Remember when going more than a week without talking was like forever and we were all like, "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" and "I THOUGHT YOU WAS A TOAD!" when we'd talk again?

Yeah. That was cool.

But now, we don't talk as much. You told me "you'll see, when you have three kids" and I'd say, "Oh well, two kind of did us in, I think I understand." Isn't that funny? I had no idea what I was talking about. You were so sweet. You never said, "Hahahahahaha! Nobody, you're such an idiot!" That's why we are friends Jen. I had no clue of the constant, and I mean constant, interruptions. I was unfamiliar with the chaos that comes with everyday, normal activities. I never imagined I couldn't sit down for 6 minutes and sort a box that needed to be sorted and put away. How could I have known my 3 year old would actually fall head first into the box, on top of all the things I was sorting. Or that my 1 year old would screech like a banshee because he wanted to be in the box. Or on me. Or anywhere he wasn't. Because really, he just needed a nap. Or that my often tight-lipped-about-his-life 5 year old would develop a habit of talking nonstop at the most inopportune times and I can hardly hear myself think for the chaos. How could I have known?

On the upside---you read my blog now. So I'm pretty sure you'll see this. A long time ago I posted about you finally getting high speed internet. You didn't even know I posted about you because, I didn't add pictures to that post and really, you can't be bothered with my printed rambling, while having to already put up with my verbal ramblings. It's why you are my best friend, I know how far you'll go for me in this friendship. It stops at repetition. I don't blame you.

So, if I were to call you, amid the interruptions, I would tell of the 23 things I didn't accomplish today, the 3 things I did accomplish that are all undone again before sunset, how much weight I still haven't lost, and how so very tired I am. Doesn't that make you want to call me right now? Come on, just call me. I'll post a piiiiiiiiicture for you. Come on, come on!

Right now, it's 10:22. At 5:19 this afternoon, I was ready for bed. Now I can go to bed, but I won't. I won't because I revel in the solitude and I can only revel in that if I'm awake. Plus, as soon as I go to sleep, someone will show up beside my bed with wet pajamas. Or puke on themselves. Or having had a nightmare. Or cold. Yeah, cold. It's Iowa in the summer for pete sakes! Sissies.

I probably sound depressed. I'm not. Things are going well, aside from the hours of the day just whizzing by me and feeling like I don't get enough done. I love going to the Y and working out. I have some great friends here that I am so glad are a part of my life. I adore my kids and my husband even more than ever. I feel very lucky in that way.

I miss you. It's not like I can't pick up the phone and call you. I've dialed the first 5 digits of your phone number like 62 times this week. Okay, maybe not that many, but pretty much every time I've gone to, something has distracted me.

Oh yeah, and blogging? Sometimes I lay in bed an night and dream about the good ol' days when I had fun thinking of stuff to post. Or was excited to write about something that happened to me in the day. Or how sometimes I had to keep myself from posting more than once in a day. HA! Can you imagine? Now I'm reaching for something every few days. Reaching EVER.SO.FAR.

So far that now I'm posting a personal letter in lieu of blog posts. Isn't lieu a funny word? Like Lucy Lu, but with meaning. I used to think it meant something like "in regards to" and when I learned that it meant "instead of" it was so hard for me to make that mental adjustment. I always felt like I was faking it when I used it with its proper meaning. Now, it's second nature.

I kind of had a similar experience with waking up in the morning. Six years ago I would have bludgeoned anyone who tried to wake me up a second before I was ready to be awake. ESPECIALLY on a Saturday. Now I get up and run to the cribside of a stinky boy with a toothy grin and slobbery chin and I cover him in kisses and I'm happy to be there. Even though it's the buttcrack of dawn. You just have to practice at wrapping your brain around the change, and voila!

Okay. I'm really done. I'm going to bed. I know you don't sit around thinking I'm neglecting you. Another reason we are such good friends. But, I did want to say hey, and that I'm thinking about you, and well, let's talk soon. How's August 3rd looking for you?

Love ya like a sis,
Nobody
p.s. Bo calls handcuffs "handcops" and swimming trunks "undertrunks". I adore it. He's five now, so I keep thinking those cute things will come to an end. I love that they haven't. J told him the word was "handcuffs" and I made him sleep on the couch for 3 nights. The nerve.

Tendow Howt

In preparing for my upcoming trip to Chicago to see Wicked, we have been listening to the Wicked soundtrack. A lot. And when we aren't listening to the soundtrack, we are singing, humming, whistling the tunes. Even when we are asleep. It's a bad, bad drug, I can't stop listening to it. I love the soundtrack which makes me all the more excited to see the show. My kids love it too. After hearing "Popular" once, Avee was prancing around the house chanting off-key, "Pop-you-low, pop-YOU-low" over and over.

Turns out Bo was secretly enchanted by the song as well and has at least half, if not more, of the song memorized. While he is singing along to a female part of a musical he maintains his masculinity by singing an entire octave lower than Galinda. I seriously can't get enough of listening to them.

I tried to splice, but it didn't go so well. But, whatever. Their cuteness is not compromised whatsoever. Just my techno-savvy-ness is.

I can't get the video to add properly, so I'm just posting this one for kicks. It's not the original one I spliced. Apparently I don't know how to splice. Whatever. I think that's a made up word anyway.

And another thing...

I have this thing about kids wearing their shoes on the "wrong" feet. I think it's perfectly okay. Often my kids will ask beforehand if their shoes are the right way and well tell them. Many other times, they throw their shoes on and don't care. My children love any kind of autonomy they are allowed. And putting on their shoes is something I love not having to do for them. Avee has been putting on her own shoes since she was about 16 months old. Mostly because she's obsessed with shoes.

Whenever someone tells me, as though I may not have noticed, "His shoes are on the wrong feet!" like I need to stop whatever I am doing and fix my son's shoes, I usually say, "Nope, those are his feet!" I want my kids to say that too, but they won't. They prefer to just stare blankly at people, sometimes throw in a lingering nose pick with the blank stare.

Well lately, Avee has been very into "dressing" herself. Usually she lets me dress her in a very cute outfit, carefully selected and coordinated, with matching hair clips. And then she'll throw a dowdy, tattered princess tutu thing over it and mismatched shoes. She goes to the Y like this. She went to the dentist like this. She goes everywhere like this, if she remembers to. So. The other day, I was taking my kids to the park and Avee, in all the excitement, forgot the tutu, but remembered the shoes. One is purple, the other is turquoise. Both are left shoes. J and I pointed out to here that they were not matching shoes and that since they were both left shoes, she might not be comfortable. She insisted, so we left the house with her wearing mismatched shoes. I didn't think of it again.

Until about 25 minutes after we got to the park. I coaxed Avee off of the swing onto some tubular bouncing thing. It was the last day of school here and there were a lot of school kids running around the park. One of them jumped up on the tubular bouncing thing with Avee. I was standing behind her, spotting her. The boy looked down at Avee's shoes and started sort of scoffing. I didn't think anything of it and Avee was oblivious. Then he tells her loudly, "Your shoes look funny, they aren't even the same!" In true Avee fashion, she giggles and says, "I know" as though the kid just said, "Your shoes are awesome, you are such a trendsetter, everyone wants to be like you!" Then he turns to me and says, "Why do her shoes look so dumb like that?" I fought the urge to roll my eyes and tell him to go find his mom, and I said, "That's just what she chooses to wear." He scoffed, "Well, she looks dumb." At that very moment, I glanced down at this 5-6 year old little boy's shoes. Bright pink Dora shoes. I just about fell over laughing. First in his face, and then right onto his pink Dora shoes.

Just kidding, I didn't really think the kid was rude. I just thought the irony was rich.

Going For A Record Here...

Three days in a row!
I used to post everyday when I started this blog over 2 years ago. I can't believe I had the time or content for that. Oh wait, I've never had real high standards for content, never mind.

I took the kids to the dentist this morning. Bo was a superstar, all by himself. Avee I got to go back with because it was her first visit. I am SOOOOO curious to see how much her visit will cost. While I'm not complaining, because the dentist and his staff were wonderful and my kids felt like celebrities and will be very eager to go back in 6 months----all he did is brush her teeth with some water, while simultaneously checking out her grill. 30 seconds. If that bill is more than $50, I am SO going to be a dentist when I grow up.

Today J took the day off just cuz. He's been on the phone since 7:30 this morning. And they are all loud talkers too.

J didn't get home from work until almost 11 last night. Because the US Marshalls knocked on my door two days ago, asking if I'd seen "this guy", I was a little, uhhhhhhhhhhh, nervous about being home alone. I don't have nearly the entertaining conversations my friend Tori has at night when I'm home alone----but I can definitely get myself worked up over nothing.

Avee, seeing that I was alone in bed (reading) took advantage of the moment and rounded up her wand, princess camera, and decked out in her princess dress over her jammies, tried to join me in bed. I told her to sleep in her own bed. She promptly ignored me, went around to the other side of the bed and laid down. My back was to her. I pretended I didn't know she was there because I am weak when it comes to little redhaired 3 year old girls dressed like princesses and hauling half her toys from room to room at 10 pm. She didn't like being ignored so she started to rub my back, and fell asleep trying to get my attention whilst trying to pretend she wasn't there. She has always been an interesting combination of contradictions like that.

When J got home he hauled her to her bed.

At 5:30 AM I woke up to Avee's legs draped across me as she slept soundly. In her arms---her wand and camera. It made me laugh, right there, in a drunken sleep stupor, I laughed. I carried her back to bed.

20 minutes later I opened my eyes because I heard an indignant "humph!" very close to my face. Avee was 4 inches from my face with her arms crossed, still holding the wand and the camera. She glares at me and says, "I said I will sleep with you. Stop moving me!"

She won.

I can't believe I just blogged about night-time adventures with my 3 year old. Told you my content standards are low.

As soon as J gets off the phone, now with his boss, we are going to get SO.MUCH.DONE.

Right after my afternoon nap.

Most Days, I'm Nice

So, this morning my friend called me and told me that Wally World had t-shirts with Bo's favorite cartoon character on it. I have been waiting for them to show up for a long time now. I had about an hour before I needed to be back for a babysitting gig. So I threw all the kids in the car and headed across town. I live exactly the same distance between the two Walmert's that this town has. I almost always go to one because, if you can believe it, it's considerably less ghetto. But, it was the ghetto one that had the t-shirts. So that's where we went.

Now, I'd like to be one of those conscientious boycotters that avoids Walmert for all it's---taking over the world and oppressing the man business and whatnot, but alas, our checkbook dictates where we shop. As well as the 3 kids raquet we've got going on. Where else can you buy Kung-fu Panda yogurt, Luvs, flip-flops, underwear and an anti-diarrheal in one fell swoop? I ask you!

Annnnnyway.

I left the house telling the kids every 40 seconds, "We have to be so fast, we have to hurry there and hurry back."

And so we were so fast. As fast as a slow-as-his-mom 5 year old, shoes-too-big 3-year-old and perfectly darling, contentedly plopped-in-the-cart 1 year old (!) can be.

I was cutting it close and beelined for the checkout after 5 unneccessary things and the t-shirt were placed in my cart.

At the checkout I turned my cart sideways so not to block the traffic going across the main aisle. I'm a considerate super mega-mart shopper. I just am.

In "parking" sideways, I was sort of hidden behind a display. Because I am petite and slight of frame. And I don't have 3 kids hanging off a cart, pushing it, bumping into things, and I'm not 2 heads taller than all displays. Everywhere. Bo and Avery had even thrown some of my stuff on the conveyer belt but I felt like it was a little too pushy to the person in front of us, so I told them to relax.

Doo-to-doo...we're just hanging out and suddenly my cart gets nosed back by another cart. She didn't just bump me or even go around and try to cut, she used the front of her cart to push my cart back. Into me. I automatically assume it's a total mistake, because in addition to being a considerate shopper, I make kind assumptions about perfect strangers.

I looked up because I had been thoroughly engaged in a conversation with Danyo about his slobber-wobber and what a cutie-pootie he is and other important things we like to discuss. Miss Cart-Pusher is looking RIGHT at me. I think I may have stared blankly (another thing I do well---I don't mean to brag so much...) and then she said, "Well? Are you in line!?"

I stuttered. No, I didn't even stutter. Stuttering implies more than one sound is made. I said, "Uhhhhhhhhh."

There was no possible reason I would be where I was, if I wasn't in line. Granted, I wasn't in the traditional position of all up in someone's cart grill---but I was all up on the conveyer belt's...conveyence.

Avee says, "Come ON Mom, we hap to hoe-ee! Baby Aidan is coming!"

I gathered my senses and said, "Yes, I'm in line." And I said it nicely. Even after being cart-ssaulted.

"Well, it doesn't look like you are in line." And tried to nose past me AGAIN. I stepped forward a few inches. There was no way I was going to let her get in front of me and have that box of SMILES fruit snacks and Ben 10 shirt I already spent 75cents in gas to come and get.

I had 6 items. She had a cart overflowing. I had 3 kids with me. She was alone. I am beautiful, she was homely.

She tried to push again. I stepped to the front of my cart and started unloading my stuff and she sniveled something at me. By this time, she had the checker's attention and the person who was in line in front of me. I didn't hear her, but I was really annoyed by then and I said, "Is it really so important that you get in front of me, I have 6 things, I have 3 kids with me, I'm in line ahead of you---do you really need to keep pushing this?"

I thought it was over because after I said that she just rolled her eyes and looked away.

Then I hear, "Some people should know when to stop having kids."

Oh. No. She. DIH'UNT.

I swallowed. I took a breath. I thought about counting to 10, I looked at the cashier and she looked more shocked than I felt. So I turned and said, "And some people should never start." The cashier shook her head, reached up and turned off her light and said, "I'm sorry, this lane is closed." Yo, she had my back.

I am always, always shocked when I encounter people like this. I am so shocked by the rudeness, but even more shocked that all of it is a result of something SO petty. Was it really that important to get ahead of me? She has to insult my character because I don't let her?

In better news, I callt my friend for a phone number for a dentist for the kids. I told her J has the next 3 days off and I'd like to try and get some appts done in the next 3 days. At which point she scoffed, "You think you're going to get in this week? I already have an appointment for October!"

Guess who has two appointments for tomorrow at 9 am?

Your mom goes to college!

One Year Older and Cuter Too!

Happy Birthday Little D

I'm glad you are such an easy going kid. And you really are. Unless you aren't(chairs that get in your way certainly get some baby wrath).

I'm glad you are only 1 and don't care that you got a half-frosted (and pathetically at that) cake-bear-thing for your birthday.

Your smile still melts my heart. Every ounce of your tiny little body brings me joy. I look at you and know, we weren't complete without you here.

I love to hear you sing as you putter around the house. You are content to stroll around, checking out the same things you checked out the hour before. I love how you like to carry things when you are walking. Shoes, leapsters, baskets full of toys, household cleaners... You are a little toter and I find it completely adorable.

Today I peeked in at you at the Y and I saw you come barrelling across the room with your still frequently unsteady gait and push a kid half a head taller than you out of the way so you could push the shopping cart. It's not nice to push, but somehow it's funny when a little squidgy midgy like you does it.

Your brother and sister adore you.

You make me think I could have 27 kids. You are very misleading that way.

Happy Birthday Buddy. I've told you that like 57 times today. You have no idea what I'm talking about. But you bounce along to the rhythm of the phrase or song. Yet another thing that's really cute when you are 1, not so cute when you are an adult.

I love you little guy.

Bo and Avee helped with the cake.

Danyo did not.