Lots and lots of blood...and some saltines for me.

Those of you who have kids, or work with kids, or just know kids, know that they all come with their own little personalities and tendencies.  Its a funny thing to observe your own children and see that just because you all share DNA, the individuals in your family tend to be, well, individuals.

There are many personality traits I could discuss here, but for the purposes of this post, I will focus on coordination and accident attraction.

My oldest, while a bit knock knee'd, is rather coordinated and athletic. He rarely gets hurt, and if he does its because he is trying some daring trick or diving catch.

My second oldest does not sit still and is constantly moving and somehow manages to never get hurt, although those around her within arm's length tend to end up 'accidentally' wounded.  Spinning, leg kicking, and other rather abrupt gymnastically motivated movements tend to pose threats to innocent bystanders.

My baby, who is almost 4 now, tends to be age appropriately coordinated.  She often catches herself if she trips while running too fast though, and any 'accidents' she has been involved in have either been the result of her older sister being oblivious, or her mother displaying large amounts of grace as she slips on the ice and sends her flying through the air to the asphalt or cement below.  Yes that happened twice.

I guess it is inevitable that one out of four would inherit my coordination and tendency to attract accidents.  That child is my third. She is 6 years old, and if she continues on the path her mother took, she will end up a fine upstanding young lady. If she makes it past age 10.

When I was a kid, if it was going to cause lots of pain or blood, I was the one that got it.  I got attacked by a feral cat, took off many layers of skin on my elbow in a bike accident (I still have a significant scar), had an emergency appendectomy, got my thumb closed in the hinge side of a bedroom door during hide and seek (yes it was broken, and yes it hurt...a lot),  stepped into snow boots that were filled with staples, got 'bounced' into a salamander cage that split my head open and bled profusely (actually a very funny story for another blog someday), got thrown off the top bunk and got my ear ripped part way off as I landed on the sharp ear of a piggy bank below, and got a pick up stick shoved into my left eardrum...which has never really worked right ever since.  Those are just off the top of my head, and I am sure I could think of more. Despite my propensity for attracting accidents and scars, I was a fairly successful athlete in school....after I outgrew my knock knee'd skinny legs.

Anna, being only 6 years old, is well on her way to carrying on my legacy.  Though there is hope for her in her teenage years, she will still not be completely out of the woods as, like I mentioned before, I tend to be involved in very embarrassing clumsy accidents even still.

Though she has not yet topped my list, so far in her short life Anna has: Crashed head first into the corner of the kitchen cabinets, creating a 'dent' in her forehead that can still be identified if you look closely because anytime she hits her head, she hits it in the same exact spot.  She has multiple unexplained bruises on her legs, has to get spacers for her mouth because her thumb has made the palate misshapen, is ALWAYS falling down, can NOT do jumping jacks (I really must get that on video, it never fails to produce laughter for spectators), is almost ALWAYS the brunt of my second child's flailing extremities, managed to break a snow globe with her head while dusting, and today, severely cut her foot on a stray shard of glass from said snow globe while attempting to get dressed for school.  We aren't talking about a tiny little flesh wound.  No. This severed some horrible little major vein on the ball of her foot that bled exceedingly great amounts of blood all over the jacket on the floor beneath her and all over her blue jeans. And her hands. And some emergency toilet paper. And about 5 paper towels.

Thankfully it stopped bleeding with painful pressure, and I was able to bandage it with Neosporin and large band aids, but I have a feeling too much jumping around will cause it to reopen and be a problem.  I am now going to the school to check on her and see if there is any cause for further alarm.  Too bad my stomach just settled from the first round of bandaging....

Mother's Day

My cute kids were killin' me this morning. We went on a big trip to Yellowstone National Park yesterday. That place never fails to deliver for me. I LOVE that park.  In case you were wondering, we saw 2 wolves, a grizzly bear, a black bear, a coyote pouncing in the snow, lots of fluffy white elk, and lots of skinny buffalo...long winter, they are starving.  Anyway, we got back around 7:00pm last night, and I was tired so went to bed shortly after we got back and cleaned up.  I am thankful I did, because my sweet babies bounced in one by one starting at around 7am.

Anna was the first. She came in with her arms stretched out and said, while walking toward me like a Mode magazine executive, "HAPPY Mother's Day!" in her best sophistocated accent.  Then she ran out of the room and did it again....like ten times, giggling hysterically in between takes. It was a very amusing show.

Lily, who was oblivious to the fact that it was Mother's Day, or what that meant, came in to snuggle into my bed with me. :) As she is the baby, I can not resist a good snuggle.

Jada, who went to bed sick, came in to have her fever checked and to also snuggle onto my bed.  Jada is a naturally good hugger and snuggler, so also a welcome visitor.

Dallen came in  but sort of stood by the door waiting to see if the masses of girls would allow a break for him to sneak in.

Once they were all in there the big kids told me I had to stay in bed and could not get up. Jada was to take my order, and they would make me breakfast in bed. They made 8 grain wheat toast with butter, a glass of milk, and a bowl of peaches.  It was adorable to see my oldest and only boy beaming with pride as he brought me their handiwork. He was so sweet and nice. Pleasant and fun...he made me a special book that he gave me and I will always treasure it.

Gregory stayed home from church because he somehow got pink eye...very odd.  I came home to a plate of salmon and asper-grass with rice for lunch. :) Brownie points to the big man. It has been a great Mother's Day weekend.

Pre school...education...

The high school just around the corner from my house has a child development class that opens its doors to real, live, actual three and four year olds for teaching purposes. The high school girls get to practice teaching pre-school aged kids, and learn all sorts of things in their interactions. It is free to anyone who wants to enroll their child, and is about an hour and a half of free time for mom, so I decided to sign the girls up to participate. They get to go to 'school', and I get 90 minutes of quiet time.  Its a win win win all around.

SO, yesterday, I got to pick up two boys that are also enrolled in the class. One of them was The Boy Wonder (previously nicknamed Charisma, but this one fits too...he's like a super hero happy guy, and it sounds more masculine). The other was a new personality that we don't interact with as much. I think we shall call him...The Whirlwind.  He has ample amounts of energy, and hops from one subject to the next...super-fast.  I think all three and four year olds have these attributes, he just seems to pick up momentum as he goes. I love this kid.

Mixing three and four year olds in a group is always a treat. You never know what they will say to surprise you, and they often catch you off guard.  Many times they say things that make you choke on your own spit until you realize that you were clearly thinking like a grown up and that is where you went wrong.  The ride to the school was particularly entertaining as the two boys sat in the second row, closest to my driver's seat.

Whirlwind started off the conversation:  "Whooooaaaaahhh!!! Did you saw dat?? There was a cat out there.  I have a car.  Boy Wonder, did you see the cat?  He was like (motion of what cat was doing). Heeheehee.  I'm going to sit by Boy Wonder at school...Oooh did you saw dat!!??? Holy cow you guys! Did you saw dat car?? It was PINK!"

Boy Wonder: "Haha...yeeeeaaah! It was SUPER pink! You are the cat and I am a super alien bug and I chase you!"

(Insert cat and chasing noises)

Daredevil: "You guys are CRAzeeeeee!"

Boy Wonder: "I am hard! I am Suuuuper hard."

My brain: "???"

Whirlwind: "Hee hee yeeeahhhh!"

Boy Wonder: "I am really super hard!"

Me: "Umm...are you hard like...a...rock?"

Boy Wonder: "No I am a Scorpion....they are really super hard"

My brain: "OOOooooh...okay. whew."
Me: "Heh heh, yes...they are indeed."

Whirlwind:  "I like dolphins. And Sperm Whales....cuz Sperm Whales are really big and make cool sounds like Oooooah! OOoooah."

Boy Wonder:  "Yeah and I like ORkas. Orkas are reeeally cool."

Whirlwind: "Sometimes Killer whales."

Boy Wonder:  "Yeah Orkas are those. They're types of dolphins. And they say Ooorrrr ooooorrr Ooooooor!"

My brain: "Holy crap how do these kids KNOW this stuff?? They are 3!!!"

Whirlwind: "WILD KRATS!"

My brain:  "OOOooooh...okay. whew."  ( For those of you who don't know, Wild Kratz is a nature cartoon where they teach kids about animals. It makes sense that they got their facts from this show.)

Boy Wonder: "I like the Wild Kratz."

Diva: "Boy Wonder is going to sit by me at school....no, Whirlwind is."

Daredevil: "No I am!"

Diva: "No I am!"

Me: "OOooookaayy! We're at school, now everyone wait for me to come and get you out and we will hold hands in the parking lot.

I then walked them to class and got them all checked in and returned to my perfectly quiet car.  It was warm and quiet...so I closed my eyes and did a little giggle. Then I took myself out to lunch and went shopping.  I even had time to read some of my book....and ponder what a great blog entry that trip to pre-school was going to be. . .

boys and girls, loving eachother....

As most of you know, I watch 2 little girls during the weekdays. They are lovingly referred to as the Daredevil and the Diva. Their respective names are quite a reflection of their personalities. Today, I add two new personalities to the mix. I have 2 boys today who are so awesome. They seem to balance the drama with the girls with their interesting and linear observations.
 
Upon the arrival of the second boy, the two girls and the first quiet boy were watching Strawberry Shortcake. The girls were of course arguing over who got to 'be' which character in the show.  Daredevil was Strawberry, and Diva wanted to be Pupcake..or Custard.  Then the second boy announced loudly, "Dogs chase cats!....hee hee....well they DO!"  It was about that time that they, all four, started playing 'chase' around my living room.  I turned off the movie because, well, no one could hear it at that point anyway, and all that extra noise just seemed nonsensical.

Boys add a new dynamic that I must say I really appreciate.  The quiet boy, we will call him the 'Mouse', he happily plays any game anyone suggests. He easily gets along with everyone and goes along with most everything.  He has an appetite for few of the snacks in my house except for cheese and gogurt...he never turns those down.  This, along with his quiet disposition, has earned him his nickname. Don't get me wrong, he has his occasional 'silly-time loudness', but for the most part, he is a sweet little mouse.

The energetic boy, who has awesome auburn-red hair, blue eyes, and always a smile on his dimpled face, often brings a certain liveliness to the party. Its like a ball of positive energy rushes through the door when he arrives, and everyone in the room suddenly gets transformed from 'hum drum' to 'happy and excited'. We have all met people like this.  They are the ones you make sure are coming to your party, because then you know it will be a success.  While he is still only 3, he has a certain Charisma. So I will call him Charisma. Somehow, because it ends in A it seems a little feminine, but this boy is ALL boy. Star Wars  and guns...and lots and lots of sound effects.  In a few years, I am certain the Dare Devil and the Diva will be arguing over who gets to take him to the Girls Choice dance.

Anyway, it is fun to have these boys here to balance the drama as I said before. The girls seem to forget all about who is pretty, and who has more friends, and they just...play.  This balance is not one I seem to be able to identify amongst adults...I dont think adding men to the group of women makes the women just suddenly quit caring about their competition and 'play'.  Unless maybe they are in college. . .Perhaps it is less about boys and girls and more about personalities...that I can see in the adult world...but I wonder if I watched them long enough, if I would be able to gain insights into the boy/girl balance.

I will let you know if Charisma and the little Mouse teach me anything of any significance in this department. Until then, I will keep a list of all of the funny things they say and see if I can make a little quote book at the end.

Zah zah zah Zumba!

Oh My HEAVENS!
That was quite possibly the single most entertaining event I have ever attended.  And not because it was so spectacular that I couldn't contain myself, but rather, because of the interesting social dynamic that was present.

Anyone who read my previous Zumba post knows that I am fashion challenged, but I never knew how important fashion in exercise was until the 'Wake Up Your Life Zumbathon' in Helena.  Girls were there of all shapes and sizes and, thankfully, in all sorts of different types of apparel, but there was CLEARLY a bar set that many reached, but a majority did not.  I think if we were in Los Angeles, this would not have been the case, but in Helena, Montana....there are not many who can achieve the high level of  'cool' that is the Zumba crowd.

The problem, I think, is a lack of sunshine.  When I moved to Montana from sunny California, I noticed this fashion deficiency and actually welcomed it, because I could never really keep up with the west coast vibe anyway.  It isn't just a Zumba thing, but it became exceedingly evident and clear at the Zumbathon that we in the north of the Mountain Standard Time Zone simply do not have what it takes to be 'cool'.  I'm not sure how clear that was to any of the native Montanans, but for a transplant like me, it was obvious.

True Zumba girls walked around in 'packs' sporting their best Zumba gear, which included $60 Official Zumba pants, $40 Official Zumba 'shirts' (I use quotations because they might not qualify as 'shirts' unless you are on the beach.), and some sort of wrist or head band with bright florescent colors.

You could tell who was 'out of date' because some people had official Zumba pants, but they didn't have this year's tassels that hung from the knees and butt cheeks of the more up-to-date Zumba-ers.  Most of the Montana instructors got the memo that camo pants with bright orange tassels were the proper attire for the evening. This group walked around together with power strides through the crowd bumping anyone with the audacity to be standing in the wrong place as they tried to get through.  I was silly enough to be standing in the same spot for 20 minutes while waiting for things to start when I was bumped over by the seriously intent group who clearly had something more important to do than to worry about the little people down on the floor that might have gotten in the way.  It was like a flashback from high school where the Cheerleaders had a pep rally to get to, and all of the regular student body had to part the red sea for them to get by or else get bumped into the wall as the 'important' people go by.  Usually the importants would smile and say 'ooh! sorry!' with a shining smile, and the innocent bystander was supposed to smile back and wave, because, hey, they TALKED to you.  This time, however, I was older than the 'cool kids' so I wasn't nearly as impressed.

The special guests of the evening were really famous.  My friend and I had VIP tickets so we got to meet them AND go take our picture with them. Except, we had NO idea who they were.  Once everyone figured out that the guy wearing the blue sweat suit,  that was walking around for an hour before the thing started, was the guy we were all waiting for, the line to meet him on stage got very long very fast.  It was DeeJay something and this girl named... Marcie??  All I know is I thought maybe she was Christina Aguilera in disguise because she had long blonde hair and wore a very fashionable hat.  Anyway, I guess they invented Zumba or something.  The main thing is that our instructors were REALLY excited to meet them, so we pretended to be excited too.

Turns out Marcie IS an amazing dancer, and she is really nice.  The DeeJay is...well...very attractive without his shirt on.  He took his shirt off half way through the hour and a half Zumbathon to inspire the masses to keep going....and it worked.  Married women, young women, old women, and women who prefer women, all screamed in a wild frenzy as he disrobed and flexed his amazing abs.  My friend took one look and said, ''Somehow, he reminds me of my laundry.''  I said he reminded me of my husband, so I won the witty funny comment contest on that round.  Don't tell Greg I said that, he'll remind me that I look reeeeeally wide in my photo with the DeeJay, and my dream of washboard abs has never, ever, been achievable....not even BEFORE kids.

Anyway, I managed to make it through the entire hour and a half without needing assistance from the paramedics on site, and I was reminded of how much I used to love dancing to fun music.  I think Zumba is 'the biggest exercise craze since aerobics' because women like to go out dancing.  Their husbands either won't take them, or are terrible dancers and simply shouldn't take them.  Its like girls' night out with weight loss benefits.  I'm pretty sure I lost 5 pounds in that one hour and a half session and I can't complain about that. Plus all the laundry I got done using only my eyeballs...

So, a big shout out to all my Zumba peeps...thanks for the party! "Holla!"

Karma and the Laundry Fairies

When I was a kid and my parents would go out and leave my older sister and I home alone, my mother would often say to no one in particular, while looking around in the air, "I wish I had some little fairies that would magically clean up the dishes from the table while I'm gone....'' Which was 'code' for, ''Girls, please clean up the dishes while we are gone.''  We, of course, figured this out eventually by the disappointed face we got when she came home and the dishes were still sitting on the table.  I'm a little slow on the uptake, so I didn't get it for the first few times, but eventually I figured out that I was one of the little fairies she was wishing on.  Even though I eventually knew what she wanted, sometimes I would pretend like I didn't, and poor mom would sigh and do the dishes herself when she got home while we feigned ignorance.

Now I am 34 and have 4 little 'fairies' of my own, but they are too young to get it when I wish aloud, to no one in particular, that I wish some nice little fairies would wash my dishes while I go out.  Either that or they are feigning ignorance like I did. Its only right that the mother's curse hit me in multiple ways right? This is Karma I think. I mean, I've never studied Karma or the religion associated therewith, but I'm pretty sure its a 'what goes around, comes around' sort of thing.

So, now I am convinced that Karma is thwarting my wishes with the laundry fairies. As a kid I notoriously hid dirty laundry under beds, in closets, where ever I could find to stuff it so that my room appeared 'clean'.  Is Karma really a fair thing if it comes back four-fold?? See, I think I could be completely content and happy if there were little laundry fairy elves that would come in the night and wash or repair all of the laundry that we left out the day before. Wouldn't that be awesome?

Hey, do you remember the story of the old man and woman who left leather out on the table over night, and little fairies or elves came and made shoes out of the leather for them? They sold the shoes and got rich because each night the little fairy elves would make more shoes for them? Then the old people lived happily ever after or something.  Anyway, maybe the 'fairy elves' was 'code' for ''They enslaved their children and made them work all night to do the work they didn't want to do.''  This is an 'Aha' moment for me....

If my children appear really tired tomorrow, but they are wearing really clean and fresh smelling clothes, I have NO idea how that happened. It must have been the laundry fairies, come to deliver me from my miserable piles and piles at last.  My kids are too short to reach the washer still, so it couldn't be me enslaving them all night....I swear I don't have a front-loader....

The Most Boring Post Ever.

Today is as good a day as any to blog again. I figure I really have nothing of importance to say, just a few commentaries on life, so no rush. I hope you all don't mind if I abstain from telling you of my every waking moment. That's what Facebook is for I suppose.
Anyway, I have been pondering a few things lately.  Wondering if I have gleaned any really good wisdom or insight into anything of relative value. I decided I have not. In fact I'm not so passionate about really anything. It seems like I need something to really strike me as funny, or really make me mad, or really be intriguing for me to find reason enough to blog. I am not so moved lately. Do you think that means I am just boring?  Allow me to take you on my brainstorming journey. Perhaps you can help me decide what is most interesting to read about and I will then feel motivated to write about it. Here are some ideas for topics in random order:

1. The Diva is back at my house...they have managed to run away and get lost for a very scary 10 minutes, she refuses to eat tuna fish sandwiches or call Andy by his real name regardless of how many times we tell her its not 'Danny', and she and Daredevil are back to the competition and silliness. The Daredevil constantly has marker on her face or hands or body (or my walls) somewhere because no matter how many times I throw away markers, they reproduce like rabbits and find a way into her hands.  I want brownies.

2.  We spent Spring Break in Billings at an indoor water park. So. Much. Fun. Plus I am proud of myself that I stayed at a hotel and didn't completely freak out about sleeping in a bed that who knows how many people before me slept in and did who knows what. Not to mention the paranoia I have about bedbugs and other disgusting creatures that tend to lurk in such places.

3.   No matter how many Zumba classes or eat-only-spinach days I have, I am not losing weight. I think I will buy a rowing machine. I like those.

4.  I might be developing an addiction to books, and my new Nook makes it WAY too easy to buy the next in the series with the click of a button.  Greg says I will need to go on rations or start budgeting ONLY 2 a month or something.  And, WHY CAN'T YOU SHARE BOOKS!? They said we would be able to lend and share, but no books actually COME with that feature. Very irritating. Unless you want to borrow the bible.

Well sadly, that's all I've got.  I shall post this and hope for something better next time :)

"One of these kids is not like the others..."

Sesame Street used to have a little song and game that I think everyone will remember if you ever frequented the show as a kid. They would put up four pictures of children or toys or food or something, and they would sing "One of these kids (or things) is not like the others, one of these kids is not the same, one of these kids is doing their own thing, blah blah blah somethin' somethin' somethin'". Anyway, when I  look at the pictures of my four kids going up the stairwell wall, I can hear this song playing in my head.  Allow me to introduce you to my ordinary children doing ordinary things. . . typical even...but you will find, as I have, that one of these kids is not like the others! :)

The oldest:  Dallen.
Dallen is easy. He is a boy, he likes baseball. He likes football, and he has some natural athletic talent. It is a blast to watch him play because it really allows him to shine.  His self confidence grows and he is successful. His otherwise timid self gets to come out and show the world what he can do. We LOVE it that he likes sports because we are sports fans. What fun.  He has enrolled in baseball for the spring, and it is great.

The youngest: Lily.
Lily is your typical 3 year old. You've read about her before and know that she is mischievious, funny, and cute. Again, typical for a girl her age, and not yet old enough to put her into any sort of activity, although I have a sneaking suspicion she will tend toward the 'performing arts' side. Likely singing, as she loves to have a microphone in her hand and sing for the masses...I'll let you know how that develops.

The second child: Jada

Jada. Jada is not so easy. She likes a lot of different things but is not just 'gaga' over any one thing. But she does tend to love dance. She is quite flexible, long and skinny, and loves to try to do acrobatic balances. She would make an excellent ballerina simply by her shape and movements. So, ballet class, here we come. She has signed up for spring ballet and I am certain she will love it.

The third child: Anna
Anna. Anna, Anna, Anna.  Anna is not tall and slender, she tends toward the short, squat, and uncoordinated side like her mother...I'm thinking its genetic. Ballet appeals to Anna because she has a girly side, and wants to be a fashion designer when she grows up. Actually, she wants to own a shop with her sister where Jada does hair, and then when they have their hair done, they can go to the attached shop and pick a custom made dress designed by Miss Anna herself, and they can be in the business of making women pretty together.  I realize this sounds pretty typical for a little girl that is 6 years old,  but Anna has another side to her.

Last summer she attended a martial arts class taught by her Aunt Kelly, and she LOVED it. She learned how to throw someone on the ground, and has enjoyed demonstrating that technique on various and sundry boys and girls as they come to visit ever since.  The other day she surprised Ian with a quick take-down he wasn't expecting and she beamed like a lighthouse at her accomplishment. The poor boy could do nothing but laugh it off and pretend like it was fun to be thrown to the ground by a girl.  Anna and her devilish alter ego enjoyed it perhaps a bit too much, but I think we may have found the 'niche' for this kid that we never really expected. 

So my quiet little blonde beauty wants to be a martial arts expert...its always the quiet ones ya gotta watch out for right?  Unexpected, yes. Unprecidented, no.  I am beginning to think this kid was really from my sister's stock and not mine, except I did give birth to this child, so perhaps it is a recessive gene.  Either way its quite amusing.  This little girl has much more to her than meets the eye.

It should be fun to see what happens when someone tries to rob her little dress shop when she's older... SURPRISE! You just got your explitive kicked by a GIRL! 

So, I have four very different children, and consequently this spring, I've got one in Baseball, one in Ballet, and one in Tae Kwon Do...I'm in for a very entertaining spring.

The Daredevil and The Diva: A story about life with little people.

There once were two little girls that were just days apart in age, and only 3 years old.  The oldest one (only by 3 days) was a Daredevil, and the youngest one was a Diva.  These two spent all of their days together for 6 months while the Diva's mother went to work.  Daredevil's mother was happy to watch the two little girls and try to keep them from getting into too much trouble. This proved to be a little more difficult than she anticipated, and slightly more trying, but she found it doable just the same.

Each day, the Diva would arrive and try to find ways to compete with Daredevil. She always wanted to find out who was more popular amongst their 3-year-old friends...particularly ONE little friend called 'Addy'....even though they only saw Addy once a week at church.  Everyday Diva would find the fake phone and pretend call Addy.  She would then inform Daredevil that Addy liked only Diva and thought Diva was pretty and NOT Daredevil.  The arguments would ensue about who Addy liked more and invariably ended with Diva asking Daredevil's mother, "Miss Piewson, am I pwetty?''

"Yes dear, you are pretty.'' She would reply.

Diva would then say, "SEE Daredevil, I'm pwetty and you awe not.''

Daredevil would then say, with determined eyebrows, "I am TOO pretty and Addy likes me BEST!"

Despite the fact that they had discussed this very important issue many many times before, it happened every day. No...really...EVERY day.

So after they had the 'Addy argument', Daredevil would come up with some scheme to get into something they shouldn't have....like the bag of sugar, or her older brother's microscope kit, but usually it involved food of some sort.  She would wait until her mother had to go to the bathroom or a phone call came in and then she would whisper quickly to Diva, "Come on! Help me move this chair over so I can climb up on the counter and get into something before my mom comes back!"

The two 3 year olds would giggle to themselves and Diva would keep watch while Daredevil scaled the counter tops and cupboards to find the 'treasures' hidden up there.  They would then hide under the table or mini trampoline and eat all of the chocolate chips, or sugar, or sunchips, or cookies, or whatever thing Daredevil found. Then they would blame each other for who actually did the stealing of the goodies...only Daredevil's mother knew that only Daredevil could have gotten to such hidden items so quickly.

Once in a while Daredevil would challenge Diva.

"I'm going to be to the car first.'' Daredevil would say.

Diva would respond by crying out, "No Daredevil! Wait for me...MISS PIEWSON!!! Daredevil isn't waiting for me!!!''

So then Daredevil would come running back and hit Diva and say "Be quiet!"

So then Diva would cry and say, "I hate you Daredevil, you are NOT pwetty and I DON'T like your SHOES!''

Then Daredevil would say, "I don't care, they are nice, they have butterflies. Hurry, lets beat my mom!''

The two would giggle and race to the car and then say, "Haha! We beat you to the car!" when the mom arrived at the vehicle.

Daredevil's mother would sigh and just be glad they were on the same team for a few minutes until one got their seatbelt on faster than the other. Then the crying and arguing over who was faster would begin...
"Am I fast??''
"Yes dear you are fast.''
"Mom! Am I fast too?''
"Yes dear you are fast too."
"But I'm fast!"
"No I'm fast!
"Yes you are BOTH fast, now be quiet, I have to listen ...to the radio...or...for cars or something."

--Dramatic pause while calculating a response--then a slight raise of the eyebrows on Daredevil's face as she comes up with the perfect response to determine the outcome of the 'who's better' battle...

"Diva, ---I'm Addy's friend."

Gasp!  "No you aren't Daredevil, I am Addy's friend and I am fast and she likes me and not you"

"She likes us both! MOM, Does Addy like us both?''

Deep breaths....deep, deep, cleansing breaths....

Thank you for tuning in.  That concludes this episode of "The Daredevil and The Diva", tune in next time for the exact same episode on repeat. Everyday. For 3 more months.

Rain

Rain...I love the rain.

I always have really.  I think its something to do with the fact that it is cleansing. Or something like that.
Whatever it is, rain doesn't make me 'blue'.  That would be bad if the rain could do that.  Would that mean there was too much colloidal silver in the atmosphere?  Yikes.

Anyway, I think I'm writing about rain because it rained last night and washed all of our muddy streets. Which I like.  And I think there is something profound about the rain coming, and it isn't moisture coming down frozen anymore.  Its the same deep feeling that makes Easter my favorite holiday.  Most people like Christmas...or birthdays, and I like those too, but there's just something about Easter.  My two most favorite holidays in the whole world are Easter and the 4th of July. I just feel those holidays...like that excited feeling you get when that kid 'Webster' discovered the secret passageway behind the grandfather clock in that TV show...you know...like...anything could happen at that moment....like...something good is coming.  And if nothing good comes, you still have a secret passageway that no one else knows about. How cool is that?

Maybe its just springtime in general.  I suppose the fact that the rain brings life to the plants helps...because March is my favorite month to visit California because it is so green.  The rest of the 11 months of the year it is brown like here, but February and March....spectacular. April too...especially on Table Mountain. Anyway, I really want to go visit my hometown and all of the familiar greenery this spring break, but its so complicated with a family of 6 I think it'll have to wait.  Although I want to see my grandparents... I don't think they will get a chance to come out here to visit any time soon, but I wish they would.  We really need to buy a house so we have more room for visitors...

The sun is coming out....I think I will go for a drive and look at houses just for fun.

Oh crap...I think I'm a grown up.

So lately I have been reconnecting with people on Facebook, like just about everyone else in the universe, and have recently started joining in this 'blog craze'. I am really enjoying the blog scene...it gives you really good insight into people.  I think people are rather uninhibited while writing on a blog. Its like they can assume a secret identity and type out what they really think and cross their fingers hoping everyone else 'gets it'. Or, maybe that's just what I do. I like to think I keep it real...so I guess I assume everyone else does too.

Recently some of the girls I used to teach as young women have started blogging. Its funny because I was teaching them within the last 5 years, but now they are in college and are full, legal adults. They are typing out their thoughts and insights on life, and some of them are quite enlightened thinkers.  I am impressed with their ability to think critically and really dive into the things that matter most in life.  And I love how candid they are about their worries and concerns.

However, there is one very shallow discovery I made tonight that I'm not sure I will ever recover from.  As I read their blogs, I found myself thinking, ''Oh I remember feeling that way in college...'' or ''Oh if she just sticks it out, this storm will pass...'', or ''I remember how exciting that felt when I was about to do that.'' OH CRAP! I am now the 'mom'-like old person that smiles and says, ''Oh yes! That's exciting honey...I remember when I was your age...'' Only whatever it is I say after that falls on deaf ears because they have to go out and discover it for themselves, and whatever it was that I did in my life is completely useless and obsolete for them because 'that was then'. Oh my canoli...even as I type I am saying things that old people say!

I think I am losing it. I...wait, I can't remember what I made for dinner tonight...oh yeah, I didn't cook dinner. Is that a sign of old age? My grandma doesn't cook anymore...maybe this is how it started.
I think I can't breath...was that my heart pounding just now?? Does anyone know the number for 911?
Crap (edited from the explitive I really wanted to use). I am old. Obsolete. Used up. Totally useless.... Except for those rare occasions when the younger generation decides they need an 'old person fix'.

Sob.

I never even achieved 'cool' like I hoped I would. Now its too late. I am officially a 'grown up' A bonified, boring, and 'know-it-all' grown up. . .

Although I have met some really cool older people. But they don't seem old. Like my Zumba instructor... Who is the epitome of 'cool'. Yeah guess what? She's my age. Yep. Has a 12 year old kid. I'm pretty sure she's actually older than me. . . .but who's counting?

Welp, thats it, I am going to call it a night.  Hopefully tomorrow I'll do something kid-like (perhaps sledding or something) and redeem my spirits from the depths of my own  reality. Then, after I feel rejeuvenated,  I will be saying things like, ''I'm making 40 the new 20!'' And, '' I'll be so cool and sexy that the Zumba instructor will have 'Andi-envy'. ''
Yes..thats my plan.

Wish me luck.

This Award Means So Much....

I believe I have arrived... I am the proud recipient and now giver of this little known, yet oh-so-prestigious pay-it-forward Stylish Blogger Award.  I am not entirely sure what part of my blog would be considered 'stylish', in fact, I'm pretty sure nothing about me can really be considered 'stylish'...especially my workout outfits, but I am honored nonetheless and shall accept.

I was generously nominated for this award by Comedy of Errers blogger, Marianne.  She is a world famous writer and published author just waiting to be discovered. And the one responsible for my attending a Zumba class with skinny people and teenagers.  Her blog is thoughtful and funny with an edgy twist.

Okay so the rule for accepting this award is I have to tell you 7 things about myself, so here goes:

1.  I once high jumped over a 5 foot bar...just once. I was 14 but it still counts because it was still me.
2.  Using a bendy pole to vault myself over a bar in college, I only got 4 and a half feet higher.  I think I must have been trying to make up for my short Italian genes with those two acrobatic feats...
3.  I can't cook...even when it comes in a box.
4.  I am 'pretty good' at a lot of things, and not sure I will ever 'master' anything.  Maybe I have ADD?
5.  I have contamination OCD like "Monk" on TV (only he's not exactly an acurate portrayal but he's funny), so I either wash things too much or won't touch them at all because they are too yucky.
6.  I secretly like listening to Eminem and I also own the latest CD by Taylor Swift.

Wow, its like stepping into a confessional-except I'm not Catholic, but...I feel so liberated now.

Alright, now that you know me so well we could be considered BFF's, I get to nominate 6 other bloggers for this fantastic award. I tried to include something for everyone...Here they are in no particular order:

1.  Amongst The Americana -This is an honest and very humorous blog. Ernie is the husband of one of my dearest friends who also writes a witty blog for their family. I think a 'man-blog' is just what we need sometimes...helps me to understand what the heck boys are thinking.
2.  Birth Smart -My dear friend of 20 years is a Childbirth Educator and Doula. I am so very impressed with what she does with this blog. She is one of those people that has a calming effect on everyone...even when you are high strung and just a little bit crazy like me.
3.  The Slow Kitchen - I love her 'natural' philosophy..I think she is Canadian...I stole her from someone else's blog roll...can't remember who...I like this one because she puts in pictures for me to follow so I don't have to translate what a 'pinch' means or whatever.  Everyone should know by now that I can't cook, so I look at her blog and think about trying to cook those things but never actually follow through.
4.  Brilliant In The Basics (Now the Smith Family Blog)- This is my dear friend Rebecca (wife of 'man-blogger' Ernie) and her very stylish family. I dont know how she made her blog and family so perfect, but she IS in fact Brilliant in the Basics...
5.  It's all in the Bag  - Rozla is a seamstress that makes very stylish and cute bags.  I own my very first ever 'purse-like' bag because of her. I even got to pick out the fabric. I may turn out to be a normal female yet.
6.  Laughing all the Way This girl is a brilliant writer. I have known her a very, very, very long time, and I am so very impressed with her writing and her insight. She is now a mother of two, deeply spiritual, honest, and candid about life. I love reading Becca's blog for her strong convictions and fortitude in life.

In order to accept The Stylish Blogger Award, these nominees must do the following:
Write seven things about yourself.
Present the award to six bloggers.
Contact those people.
Create a link back to the person who did this for you.
If these nominees do not wish to accept the nomination, they can donate money to heifer international or ignore this post. The choice is theirs.

Zumba-Boomba-Boom!!!...

That is pretty much the sound I made tonight at my first ever Zumba class. I have a good friend that convinced me to go with her to do this hilarious and fun class...although I am fairly certain that I, myself, was the hilarious part, and jumping around with teenagers and a skinny, energetic, 'perfect-teeth' and 'super-nice' instructor to fast paced latin music, was the 'fun' part.

Before I go on, I have to confess something...I was a Physical Education major in college. Ours was a curriculum designed to teach teachers how to teach kids to be active and fit for life.  So, I passed college with flying colors, but am failing on the 'fit for life' bit. . .allow me to illustrate why I simply give myself an F- in 'Practice What You Preach 101' class......

Ok, so...

I arrived at the gym wearing the only clean 'workout gear' I could find. (I blamed this on 'motherhood' in general and a household of 6) My outfit included a pair of capri-length addidas pants, (complete with paint stains from when I tried to paint the house in them and 'not-get-any-paint-on-my-pants'...fail), a huge T-shirt, miss-matched socks, a zip up hoodie, and a bra with half the underwire broken out. Hahahaha. That last part is actually true...hey...it was the only one I could find...and yes I do have more than 2.

So, I was okay with my appearance at first (since my husband told me I looked fine) until our teacher bounced in...AND I found out that our only other classmates consisted of the middle school girls' soccer team...and we also had to take our shoes off....however, I got a 'save' on that one because apparently it is 'cool' to have miss-matched ankle socks. The whole soccer team had on little miss-matched ankle socks just like me so I'm pretty sure I just 'fit in' like I knew what I was doing. . .

So aside from the fact that even though I am 'clear' on the sock front, I learned 5 things about myself, and how my life will go from here -post Zumba class tonight...

1. I will never eat again.

2. I need to go buy a sports bra....preferrably one that holds everything 'in' and 'up' where it all belongs.

3. I will never, ever, ever, (no matter how hard I might try), ever, look sexy when I 'swivel' my hips. . .I have become the short little fat girl in class that everyone watches and says ''Awe...honey...bless your heart for getting out there and giving it a try!''...no...really...not ANYTHING like what the teacher looked like...

4. My husband will NEVER, EVER, under even the most EXTREME circumstances, be permitted to attend or 'observe' my monday night Zumba class. Period.

5. I may need counseling for 'reverse annorexia'...I'm pretty sure that when I see myself, alone, in the comfort of my own home, I think I look better in my mirror than I actually do in real life...the mirrors ALL around the room, and trying to move like our tiny, sexy instructor helped me to see the light on my reality.....

I must admit, that despite the very STEEP learning curve (there is no instruction...you just have to try to follow and keep up), I think I really liked it. It was energetic, fun, and I think I laughed more tonight than I have in a long, long time.  AND, I did keep up the whole time...which surprised even me (meaning, I actually moved the whole time and finished the workout....no way I got all the moves right.)  Plus,  if I end up looking like our instructor at the end (which I'm fairly certain is genetically impossible), I will be freakin' HOT....and then I won't go 'Zumba-Boomba-Boom!!!', I'll just go 'ZumBAAAaaa!'

Aaron Rogers went to my high school....so I am automatically cool...or famous...or something.

Thats all I have to say really. Just that I am totally famous now because of him.

What?

You guys didn't know I was cool? Well let me tell you what an important influence I was on Aaron Rogers!
See...I was number 12 on the Pleasant Valley High School girls basketball team...I'm pretty sure that Aaron must have known that and chosen that number accordingly...I won't accept anyone's comments that also remember that EVERY quarterback out of PV  was number 12 or...11 I think. But at any rate I am claiming it. Never mind the fact that I graduated like, what? 8 years before him? Psh. It was my LEGEND...that inspired him.

Need I remind you of the Junior College I attended as well? Thats right...I was learning to pole vault on Butte College's football field before Aaron (..first name is all thats necessary at this point..) even entered high school. I am certain this played a part in his decision to be a 'hometown athelete' (just like his idol...me.) and play for Butte...I mean, seriously...don't you think its just a little bit more than coincidental??

And now, since we've been avid Aaron Rogers fans, all through the Cal days...and lamented with him when Favre just wouldn't freakin' RETIRE already...we even waited out the broken foot incident that helped delay that agonizing retirement/long-drawn-out-dog-and-pony-show...NOW....now, we can claim our superbowl ring. AND number 12 is officially the superbowl MVP. Thank you very much. . . no, no....no need to wait in line, I'll be handing out signatures all week...

With fame comes great responsibility, and I will be sure and treat this limelight with a sober and humble demeanor...I know Aaron will try to say it was all me...he's so humble, but we all know that...no no..He deserves ALL the credit. . .I was just doing what ANY normal Chico resident and Pleasant Valley High school student would have done....because...UH! UNGOWA! VIKINGS GOT THE POWER!

 

Sabotage...and fat girls have more fun.

I'm not talking about Taylor Swift's kind of sabotage...I can hardly steal anyone's boyfriend in my current condition...I'm talking about 'kid sabotage'. I think kids sabotage their moms from the very beginning. Its like they say...at the point of conception...'your life is now...OVER as you know it.'

Your body becomes their's...if you are not puking your guts up, you are exhausted. Then, they pick the most uncomfortable route out of you possible.  You get stretched, ripped, cut, torn, poked, and prodded, and told it is perfectly normal to feel that much pain. THEN, what was previously a set of glorious man magnets becomes an exploding mess of baby feeders that suddenly sag pathetically to your waist when the little sabateur is done with them.  Not to mention the expansion of said waistline that, for the majority of women, never really goes back to normal....and is never-ever-ever worthy of a swim suit again. . .don't even get me started on those irritating women who just 'bounce back' to their pre-pregnant jeans within a month of delivery...I'll be taking THAT one up with the Lord at the pearly gates when I die...but I digress. (I once heard a good friend say that at a baby shower for a 'skinny mom' ...it was hilarious)

THEN, after you have become an unrecognizable mere shadow of the sexiness you were before (given you had much to begin with)...you get sabotaged in your sleeping patterns.  You no longer require 8 hours...you can easily get by on the 3 or 4 hours you have been reduced to...only you are really just half sleeping because you are paranoid the child will stop breathing if you ACTUALLY sleep. . .

For me...this happened 4 times in 6 years...remarkably I'm not a 'quadruple mess'...after 2 nothing much could be done to make it any worse anyway... So, now I have gotten 3 of them into school and just a 3 year old at home. . .and an 'extra'. They are incredibly cute, but MASTER sabateurs! Now that I am just a year away from total freedom to get some alone time back...I want to try and lose some of this weight that they all sabotaged me with in the first place.

Enter Jillian Micheals.

I was having a hard time getting motivated to work out because, as you know, I am sleep deprived lately...just want to sleep. But per Nathan's (winner of said chocolate bar by the way)suggestion, and some encouragement from facebook friends, I decided to work out and maybe get my energy up.

For the first 5 minutes of the workout, the girls decided to try the workout with me...but I nearly stepped on them both a hundred times so they decided to go behind the couch. So I buckled down and started working hard. About 10 minutes later I realized they were no longer down stairs and were completely quiet. Then I heard a 'clank' in the bathtub.  I called to them with no response, and went up the stairs to investigate. They were both buck naked in a rising tub of bubble bath, and dripping wet.

End workout.

So-- sabotage. I think its like a punishment or something. Really? I mean what did I and thousands of other women do to be given such terrible genes and told we just have to work harder to get in shape?  Maybe that's what I get for thinking that making the babies was fun....?

Consolation for all the sabotage. . . skinny girls didn't have as much fun.  Maybe I can keep it to myself at the pearly gates after all.

Sleep Deprivation...and a contest to fix it...with REALLY great prizes...

So, for as long as I can remember, I have had trouble sleeping. I can remember laying awake as a kid...finally I'd get up and lumber out to the kitchen for a drink of water and there was my dad...also awake...watching some mind numbing TV show 'till he was 'tired enough' to go back to sleep. 
His mother is the same way. She is up at like 4am everyday. I can remember going to grandma's house for a visit and if you got up to go potty anytime after 5AM, you came back to a made bed and it was time for breakfast.  She is all of 4 foot 11, but her personality is about 6 foot 7.  Anyway, the sleep thing is definately a family trait. Just the other day I caught my grandma online at 2:30am. Apparently she has a standing bridge game with people across the country at that time. Amazing.
So for 3 or 4 days now I have been up past midnight...then wake up at 2:30 or 3am, then nod off and wake again at 5am...then nod off and wake again at 7 ish to get kids ready for the day. Then when I am home with the 3 year olds I HAVE to close my eyes for 20 or 30 minutes around 9:30am and let Diego take them on an 'animal adventure'.  I've always got one eye open though because last time I did this with both eyes shut they snuck in the kitchen and spread dry rice crispies all over my living room.
So I am thinking I need to structure my day with activity so that I am just wiped out at 9pm.
I am taking submissions for sample day schedules.  I would like each hour marked on said schedule...I think my old companions might be good candidates for this job as they are well versed in the Franklin Covey planning and scheduling that I am best at following.  Plus many if them have kids at home. Anyone is welcome to give me suggestions though. . .I have a hard time coming up with ideas because all my brain can come up with at this point is 'take a nap'...but that is not effective whatsoever as you can see. SO. Game on...what does YOUR day look like? I think the winner....the one with the best 'stay at home mom' day schedule, should get a prize...I will send you your favorite chocolate bar in the mail. Mine is Skor bars. Just in case you were wondering.  Come on thats worth it isnt it?
It's win-win. You do the brain work and planning...I just follow it and send you chocolate. Brilliant.
Ready sets go.

Trampolining

So for Christmas my husband got the kids a small trampoline with a cage of netting around it so the kids don't fall out and get hurt....Its rather gigantic for the back of my living room, but that's another issue. The reason I am writing about the trampoline now is that today, while I was cleaning the back room and vacuuming, I came upon the instruction manual.  I found it amusing that the trampoline had an instruction manual.  This is not a manual for how to assemble the trampoline, but rather instructions on how to use the trampoline.  They honestly had like 25 things you should consider when using your 'My First Lil Roo' trampoline.
First of all...the trampoline box clearly said that the trampoline was only for jumpers up to 100 lbs. Okay, so by default, that only includes kids up to the age of maybe 10 years old....if they are a super skinny waif of a 10 year old. My 9 year old is 85 lbs and he really cant jump hard on the thing.
Anyway, this being said, allow me to share with you the first rule on the trampoline instruction sheet.

1. Jumpers should not use the 'My First Lil Roo' trampoline if they have consumed alcohol or recreational drugs.

Really??....Really??....no really...Really?

Okay...so assuming the children who are using this trampoline can read because they just started school...they will be sure not to have a beer or smoke reefer before jumping.

I wish I had actually kept the manual instead of just throwing it away after reading the rest of the 'rules for jumping' so I could share them all with you verbatim. They were really really amusing. One of the rules said something like 'No jumping too high. A controlled low bounce is the safest way to jump on your 'My First Lil Roo trampoline.'
That one made me smile. What kid do you know that isn't going to try and touch the top of the 'enclosure'?
I know...they have to say those silly things for legal purposes to avoid being sued. But seriously.

Anyway, for your perusing enjoyment I am posting a picture of said trampoline.


Looks fun right? It is. Really. And it gives the kids something to do 'till I get a yard to send them out to play in. But, should you buy one of these for your 'Lil Roo' you should know that they all try to touch the top of the enclosure and they really do get out of control if they've had a few beers.

Oh, and if you have a cat...the cat will think it is a brand new scratching post...huge and glorious...just for them. You will find shreds of red and yellow styrofoam all over your entire house...and squirting the cat with water doesn't stop the cat from shredding the foam pole protectors...I think they should have put that warning in the rules. I bet I could sue...

Rainbow Brite vs The Farting Cartoons

So, as I've mentioned before, we have netflix and often download old school shows for the kids to watch.  These 3 year old girls I have here at home like to have something on in the background as they play with the Little Tykes Barnyard and the Sesame Street house. Today it is 'Rainbow Brite'. Okay, I vividly remember Rainbow Brite from my childhood, but mostly I remember the dolls...and the fact that she had a rainbowy horse.  Its like I am watching this cartoon for the first time. Maybe I am....did Rainbow Brite cartoons really get going when I was in Jr High or something? The thing I am noticing that she had some really bad bad-guys. I mean this whimpy little character is beating down Star Wars caliber villains...Giant slimy frog guys, robot aliens, a wicked witchy girl who likes belts. . . I never knew. . .and who is that shiny and bright boy that rides a robot horse? He is very sweet. And he declares how if we all work together we can keep the universe bright and beautiful...I think I believe him...he's believable...
So I think they need to make cartoons like they did in the 80's.  I think they taught us to be courageous. Today's cartoons are like one big fart and belch contest. Its like all the writers are boys now. I think girls must have written the 80's cartoons. Even Transformers....it always had a 'good vs evil' theme and the good guys win...but its serious. No sudden flurbbbing from the buns of a dog to make the kids interested....none of that.  I mean...can transformers even really flatulate? They are robots. Yet I think they managed some of that silly boy humor in the live action movies they recently created.
I wanted to blame this on the feminist movement. Something like, ''All of the women wanted man jobs...like building stuff or digging holes...just to prove they could do it. Then, suddenly the only jobs left were the girly jobs....like writing and entertaining children.  So now that we know that women are clearly better at all jobs, I say bring the women back to the cartoon writing and leave the hole digging to the boys.  Its hard to mess up digging a hole. . . and it won't directly effect our children and how well mannered they are.'' But it turns out the writers for both Rainbow Brite and Transformers were male....HOWEVER, one was French and one was Japanese.  So maybe we need more French and Japanese cartoons.  OOh...I need to look up who wrote He Man and She Ra.  . .. Its GOT to be a woman...or a French man.. . .
Alright, don't get me wrong, I mean, I can belch with the best of them....say the ABC's even...I even laugh sometimes at the farting dogs...but I would like ONE modern cartoon or kids show that doesn't rely on body functions and bathrooms to keep a kid's attention.  Seriously.
I must admit one of my favorite modern cartoons was Avatar: The Last Airbender...that cartoon was awesome...but then...I'm pretty sure it was Japanese. Hmmm. I'll have look that one up too...

What is up with house cleaning? Is there a 12 step group for that?

So...Ive decided that I either have to be totally obsessive or totally lazy with housework. I can't seem to find a happy medium. I used to make sure everything was in its place...vacuum and sweep and mop several times a day...organize closets...you know, the typical 'Monk' stuff. But then after I had a third kid and was pregnant with my fourth, I got way too obsessive about cleaning and darn near killed myself trying to keep things perfect.  I was exhausted. So I stopped doing certain things all together.
Well that didn't work either because with 4 kids, my house became a total wreck in no time. So now I want to find the middle. How much is 'too much' and how much is 'not enough'? I want my floors picked up, but this seems like an impossible and futile effort. As soon as I get the floors vacuumed or mopped, someone drags out the goldfish crackers or some sort of multi piece toy and all of my efforts are dashed in 30 seconds flat.  It is at that point in time that inevitably the doorbell rings and one of my friends 'pops by'.  I want to shout 'but I really DID just have a clean house....I'm not a total disaster always.' But really I am.  I guess I should just admit it and accept it. I could start a support group...'Messy Houses Anonymous'.  Here is what I would whine at everyone in my first group meeting....."But I just can't bring myself to follow after the kids and pick up every sock they take off randomly.... or every toy, or every snack they sneak....there is ALWAYS a mess somewhere!!"
Some of you (and yes I CAN hear you in my head all the way from here) are saying, "Just teach the kids to do chores!". To this I say, "Come here so I can knock you upside the head!" I do teach my kids to do chores...but anyone who actualy has normal kids knows that this is really a laughable idea.  They do take only about 10 minutes to clean up their own messes, but only after rolling around on the floor for three hours whining that its 'toooo haaaarrrrrdddd!'.
So either I wait till I have enough energy, or I wait till the kids decide that it is not actually going to kill them... or maim them...or give them leprosy, to clean up their messes. And heaven forbid it was someone else's mess...
So maybe its not that I won't do it...or that I'm lazy...its the waiting! I'm waiting for me or I'm waiting for them. (I'll go with that...'my house isn't messy...its a training camp for kids to learn how to clean stuff up').
I just want to know why I cant I have superhuman energy or a magic wand? I have decided that these women who have pristine houses and the same number of kids as me must clean ALL DAY LONG (and you and I know that just isn't healthy), or they secretly hire someone. Or maybe they really do have magic wands and they are just watching me from the crystal ball while chuckling to themselves at how I am failing so miserably at an impossible task....! Heh heh heh...do you like how I've demonized those of you who are actually good at keeping your house clean and a smile on your face? I think if your house is clean, you are all either mentally ill or one of the three hags in MacBeth.  If my house is actually clean (which it very rarely is) then I am surely not smiling like you clean people. Well I am after I get to sit down in it and enjoy the quiet silence....so....no, I'm not smiling. I'm likely snoring...or out shopping for something that I suddenly come up with that we must have...right now...
Maybe I just have to accept the fact that this is not a talent of mine?  Some people play piano...some people sing...some people clean their house. That just seems like a cop-out. I sound like a whiny wuss.  "Pull up your bootstraps woman! Get to work!'. . .I can hear a teeny drill sargent that is marching around on my left shoulder...
...Que the tears and hiccups. . .
Sigh.
Well. I guess I better get to it....the only way to develop a talent is to practice right? I know I'm not the only mom who thinks this way.  There I admit it. I am average....SUB par even...I accept this and I know that there must be 12 steps I can follow somewhere to change this about me. But until my kids grow up, I refuse to seek them out.

Jay vs The Cosmos...1 to Zip.

A few days ago my Jada got up early and got herself ready for the two birthday parties she was to attend later that day.  She wanted to look her very very best, so she took a shower and asked me to blow dry her hair straight.  She carefully smoothed it out and placed a headband with a bow on top...picked the perfect shoes, drew hearts and flowers on the white wrapping papered gift, and off we went.

We decided to walk because the first party was only two and a half blocks away.  Being that its January, the streets have been packed with snow and ice for weeks, but the temperatures have finally started warming and thus the streets have been melting into rivers and slush.  It turned out to be a bit of a treacherous little jaunt. We had to carefully navigate from ice patch to ice patch to avoid getting our shoes and pant bottoms soaked or muddy.  We made it to about 10 feet away from the house where the party was being held when Jada got a bit excited and hurried up ahead.  The thing is...there was this huge icy puddle in the middle of the sidewalk that she failed to notice. She ended up in the splits up to her hips in the giant muddy puddle with her carefully decorated present drowning in the water beside her.  Her beautifully straightened hair had gotten splashed only on one side, and as we walked home to get her changed, her hair turned to its natural wavy curl...but only on the right side.  When we walked in the house and shut the door she said, as she stood there dripping wet still and freezing and pathetic, "WHY TODAY!? Of all days to fall in a big puddle...TODAY!" I couldn't help but smile and giggle a little because she had worked sooooo hard to look 'super cute' for her party and there she was...so close! So close...

She did get changed and managed to make it to the party anyway and enjoyed herself, but poor Jada got stuck with the bad luck that day.  While its amusing to just watch as a spectator, I know how frustrating that is.  Fortunately for me, it seems that when things like that happen to me it is of no significant consequence on which day it occurred.  Like the time I stepped on the edge of the sidewalk while carrying the baby and fell right into the big water puddle on our non-draining new sod. . .or the time I slipped on the ice after seeing the kids' school Christmas performance and accidentally threw my 1 year old onto the street as I went down...luckily she wasn't permanently scarred in either incident, but I think it might explain why she wants to just 'walk herself' now that she is 3.  Neither of those things happened on a day when I needed things to go just right, so I don't think its just a matter of perspective and attitude.  I wonder sometimes, though, if the cosmos aligns all the stars just right as a test to see what sort of reaction we will have when it really matters to us.  I think Jada passed admirably. She brushed it off and went on to have a great day... I was impressed with the 'bounce back' despite the disappointing fall...she still smiled and laughed a little at her circumstance, which could have easily been all tears.  Way to go kid...you've got the cosmos down 1 to Zip.  

A mother's work...

So I've been trying to decide if I should go back to work. Substitute teaching in particular...it seems to be the most logical way for me to make some money while I still have one child at home.  It does, however, require finding a babysitter for the days I accept an assignment...which is easier when its just one child, but still difficult...especially  when you count the 'guilt' factor.  We 'stay-at-home-moms' have a code we live by....kids first. Right? But how do we maintain that at the cost of our own sanity or at the cost of say....groceries?  Lets face it. Most everyone these days needs a dual income. Lucky is the girl who doesn't feel the pressure or have the absolute need to at least work part time anymore.  I have been extremely lucky to have been able to stay home as long as I have, but it has not been without its sacrifices.  I definitely need to be making SOME sort of income to have any guilt free spending power, and we need me to work if we ever want to buy a house again in this century.
I have found many mothers in this same predicament. It is a tough one because we want to be there for every cute thing...every teaching moment...every question...every brilliant performance put on in our living rooms in the late morning by an aspiring 3 year old actor or actress.  Its heartbreaking to think someone else might witness that, or even ignore it...thats what we moms were made for...recognizing and enjoying those moments....and having the choice to do so..  But there is another side to each of us. The side that is just dying to get out of the isolation that comes with the 'mom' job.  We crave adult contact...we want to use our talents and contribute something to the world other than the cleaning up of cracker crumbs and smashed banana in the carpet.  We want the independence that comes with your own fiscal contributions....we want to be able to say 'sure honey, you can get that cute shirt' without having to check with the 'other half' if it will be okay or not.  And then there is the thing that is tipping the scales these days. . .we have to pay the bills and feed the kids we love so dearly.
So, recently one of my fellow stay at home moms found herself in this same predicament, and is in tears about having to go back to work.  The feeling is bitter-sweet...she gets to use her educated brain in the field she studied in college...but she has to leave her 3 year old with me.  For me it answers the question as to whether or not I will have to miss any of my youngest's 'at-home' years by going back to subbing...I am getting paid to watch an extra kid or two, and still get to see mine grow up, although I don't get to use much of my educated brain.  And, unless I am feeling particularly energetic that day, adult interaction is likely out...as well as much quiet time...but hopefully I can amp up my creativity and find ways to keep them occupied.  I am looking forward to this venture with much gratitude and a little trepidation...it will be a challenge for both moms involved.  Its funny because I'm pretty sure both husbands are quite happy with the arrangement...some of their burden just got lifted...I'm just hoping the Lord sustains the mothers' work because we might both need a little extra divine energy to get through this one.  One day, soon, this will not be a challenge, as they grow up so very fast...But for this year...the mothers' work is never done...a bit more valued, perhaps...but never done.

Strange phenomenons...

Negative 8. Thats the temperature outside. Its amazing really.  Its such a strange phenomenon how the sun is out and shining...few clouds in the sky, and it does NOT get warmer throughout the day. It completely depends on the weather front that has pushed in.  Having spent most of my life in California, this really boggles my mind. It has taken me 3 years to really figure out what to expect with the weather here.  I think to myself that if I drop the kids off at school and its -8 outside...then by the time I pick them up it will be at least Zero degrees...or like 1 degree because the sun has been out warming things up. This is simply not true. Sometimes it actually gets COLDER the longer the sun is out. It blows my mind. I am wondering if anyone can explain this to me because it makes no rational sense other than the fact that the weather girl says there's 'arctic air blowing over'. I understand that 'arctic' means 'cold', and Santa Claus and the Elves have amazing stamina to abode there...but I just don't understand why the sun doesn't warm things up...even just a little. I need a smart friend to help me with this one.

As I type, my 3 year old thinks she is secretly sneaking a hard boiled egg to eat. I think the only way to get my kids to eat some things is to tell them they can't have it. Its another amazing phenomenon...you would think that hungry children would simply eat what you give them...isn't that what good mothers everywhere have preached for years? "If they're hungry enough, they'll eat it!'' This is mostly true...and true with many children...but I have one child, who, under NO circumstances will actually eat a sandwich of any kind.  I have tried 'halving' them...making shapes out of them...giving her half as much...making different varieties..still the sandwich comes home in the tin, princess lunch box, untouched or nibbled on at best. She comes home whiny and cranky and "STARVING!!!"...Maybe if I tell her that she is no longer allowed to HAVE sandwiches, she will then start wishing she had one in her lunch...

Family pride...my cup runneth over.

I am very proud of my husband today. Yesterday he went and took a physical test for law enforcement and passed with flying colors. He was nervous because he hasn't done anything like that for so long, but I knew he had nothing to worry about.  It was good to see him beaming when he got home. Thanks to a gift card we got as a 'thank you' from the parents of 'the extras', we went out and celebrated at a local pizza joint.  What is it about a man in uniform doing heroic athletic things?
Before I forget, I want to tell you that I am still sick, but am starting to feel a bit more energy coming back. I can't wait to start working out again. I know I seem like a slacker because I haven't just dived in with Jillian, but I was sick. I have a good excuse. And I'm sticking to that...
Okay so recently we got Netflix through our Wii console...which doesnt actually work for anything else ever since our 3 year old shoved about 8 movies into it at once...but we have been downloading movies and tv shows like crazy.  It is amazing what old programs you can watch every episode of...and old movies.  I recently introduced my kids to the awesomeness that is the Karate Kid trilogy.  I forgot how good those movies actually are. My kids are now perfecting their 'crouching crane' move while trying to balance on top of their toy box.  Its amazing to me that the movies have the same effect on my kids that they had on me.  Pretty soon they will be wanting to meticulously clip a bonzai tree of their own and want one of those drum thingies to twist in perfect rhythm.
Oh yes, and they have discovered He Man and She Ra....what a wholesome little show that was. I love it. Now my girls know that they can ALWAYS raise their swords 'for the honor of greyskull'....I am so proud.

So the truth is...

Okay, I confess, I have only worked out with Jillian once. Honestly it was not as bad as I thought. She told me I could work out 5 days a week with this abs thing and still get results...so I'm taking her up on it.  I am only a little sore, and day two is today.  I think it might actually do something to help eliminate my ''ever-pregnant'' look. I bought a bathroom scale yesterday, and lets just say...at the very least it will help do something about my ''oh my heavens its like a record or something'' weight.  I think it will especially help that I put the scale in front of my refridgerator...
So I think I'm getting sick. I have post nasal drip and have to sit up to avoid choking.  Apparently eating lots of oranges is not as effective at warding off colds as I once believed. Perhaps I need to add some hot peppers to my diet and see if that helps. I heard they have more vitamin C than oranges, plus they help curb the appetite. True story. If only I had any desire to go to the store and get some.  I woke up at 4:30 this morning needing to sit up and my eyes are sort of heavy and cold. They want to close...not search for peppers at the store.
I'm saved at last tonight. I joined a Bunko group and tonight we kick off the new year. I have been dying to get out for 2 weeks now and finally will get my chance tonight. I'm just hoping I'm not too busy dying of this stupid cold to enjoy it. What is up with murphy's law working on moms? There should be a law against that law working on moms.  Its just wrong what with all the sacrifices moms make anyway, the ONE night she can get out should not be allowed to be touched! But that's okay.....I will be just fine....(do I sound like a martyr yet?) I will enjoy my girls night regardless...even if I have to chug some medicine and it knocks me out and I sleep through the whole thing. I think that might actually be bliss...hmm..I'll have to discuss this with the host.

Recovery Day

Today was supposed to be recovery day, but somehow I think 'recovery' is relative....  I woke up this morning and found my 3 year old by my side.  Upon opening her eyes, she immediately started talking...a lot. About mermaids, and Boots the monkey being a mermaid, and how I needed to go with her to watch Dora and Boots be mermaids.   After distracting her with the task of waking the kids up, which she loves to do, I got myself moving and started on the always difficult task of getting 4 kids fed, dressed, lunches made AND in lunchboxes that actually make it IN backpacks, and off to school on time.  This process takes the entire hour. . and sometimes more depending on how cooperative the kids are being on any given morning. This morning, they were all very slow and contrary because despite sending them to bed and personally turning lights out at least twice before 9 o'clock, they all managed to stay up past 10pm.  

The rest of my morning has been spent on errands and housecleaning. . .very exciting, I know.  Oh yes...and avoiding Jillian....but today is day one of the challenge, so at some point, I must take thirty minutes and allow her into my living room...I'm thinking tonight...but if I sneak a little nap in, I might squeeze her in before the kids get home. I'll let you know if i'm still speaking to her after that.

Just to report on how I felt about having 'extras' for 4 days. I must say, they were really good kids. There was no fighting and very little whining...I am glad all of the kids get along like they do, and it just felt like cousins were visiting.  Plus I just banked up some killer time from their parents on babysitting :). Haha can't complain about that!

Good Morning!

So I'm only mostly awake.  I know we made it to midnight, and drank our cider, but past 12:27am- when they all finally quieted down- its a blur. I am going to guess that is about the time I fogged out.  I vaguely remember hearing the sheriff come home (3am?), but other than that I must have slept sound. Overall, it was a successful evening of noise making and silly hat wearing....minus the oldest and the youngest....who were either asleep or too cool for school to participate.

It seems like I would have some great ideas of something I could do to get out of the house and have a little 'mom' time today...but I am coming up empty.  I am secretly wishing I had a good book to read.  I think its funny that my husband gets jealous of books. Admittedly I do get quite wrapped up in the good ones...but I think he's afraid I'm falling in love with some hero to which he could never compare. . . for instance Edward Cullen, or Harry Potter. The Harry Potter one makes me laugh because he used to call him my ''boyfriend Harry'', that I would leave him for two weeks for while I was reading. That's typically how long it took me to read one of the huge Harry Potter novels...but anyone who has actually READ Harry Potter knows how ridiculous the notion of me falling in love with him is...Harry Potter was a little kid....I do kind of wish I had Ginny Weasley's amazing red hair, but I don't think that counts.  Regardless of what he wants to believe, I think there's nothing wrong with a little healthy competition.. right? Or at least letting him believe he just might have some...
Jillian wrote me a letter today...she somehow knew I would 'over induldge' for the holidays and sent me a pep-talk for getting 'back on the weight-loss wagon'. Its like she knows me....she's watching.  I thought it was just a generic news letter that I signed up for, but it's eerily in line with the way I operate.  I think she's like Santa Claus...''she knows when you are eating, she knows when you've had cake, she know its not really Costco's fault, just exercise for goodness sake.''  I won't tell her that I got a copy of her new ''6 pack in 6 weeks'' dvd...I'm going to hold her to it though. I don't think she can turn MY abs into a 6 pack in 6 weeks...perhaps that is a good New Years challenge I will report on with my blog.  Yes...work out with Jillian everyday for 6 weeks. We'll see if she is a liar or not. I wonder what sort of recourse I might have if I don't get my 6 pack abs...I will have to ponder this....I welcome any ideas on what I can do to Jillian Micheals if I still look pregnant after six weeks of torture with her...