Stacey's Mothering Moments

I have moved!

2010-02-24T06:50:00.001-08:00

Please come visit my new site here!

Shhhh!

2010-02-02T13:32:00.000-08:00

O is wearing underwear and has been dry all morning. Now go knock on some wood, or whatever other superstitious thing you do to avoid curses.

She has mostly potty trained herself up to this point. I took a new approach with her. This potty training approach is called, "I don't care if you wear diapers to college as long as I don't have to potty train you." As a result of this new approach, she has done most of it herself. She has poo'd in the potty for a couple of months now and will pee just about ever time you stick her on it. (I'm sure you wanted all the gory details.) Read more here...

A Child's Prayer

2010-01-22T07:48:00.000-08:00

Dear Heavenly Father,
Please help us not to fight.
Please help those that are sick to get better.
Please help my mom not to forget to come to my class again tomorrow.
Amen More...

How to Wash Dishes Like a Ten-Year-Old

2010-01-14T17:50:00.000-08:00

Washing dishes is the most despised of all possible chores. It is the chore that elicits the most complaints, tears and tantrums. Washing dishes is evil, apparently. But of all of the children, the ten-year-old is by far the most obnoxious. If you want to be just like him, here's what to do. More...

Adrenaline Rush

2010-01-13T08:49:00.000-08:00

O got a little Winnie The Pooh train for her first birthday. It's the kind you sit on and scoot around with your feet. It is the source of much entertainment. It is a noisy little toy, but she loves it. More...

She's Terribly Two

2010-01-09T18:25:00.000-08:00

I've never truly understood the phrase "terrible two's". I've had my fair share of tantrum throwers, criers and a little mischief here and there, but Little Miss O has given the phrase a whole new meaning. She is the epitome of the "terrible two's". She is the very definition. More...

The Doctor's Office

2010-01-07T07:28:00.000-08:00

I hate going to the doctor. I'm the type of mom who waits until it's absolutely necessary to go because I always have to take so many people with me. Unless a kid needs stitches, antibiotics or shots, I try to just wait it out at home. But my sweet little E has been making sure we make good use of our insurance lately. More...

My House, the Trash Receptacle

2010-01-05T13:06:00.000-08:00

My house is a trash receptacle. That's all it is. I try really, really hard, but no matter how hard I try, there is ALWAYS more garbage. The baby is usually eating paper off the floor. This morning I dug fake Christmas tree out of her mouth. I put it away yesterday and vacuumed and swept. More...

The Passage of Time

2009-12-31T13:16:00.000-08:00

It seems appropriate on this day in which we celebrate the passing of an old year into that of a new year, to reflect on the passage of time. Time is a funny thing. Time can be our friend or our enemy. Time can fly by so fast we can scarcely breathe or it can drag it’s feet like that of an unwilling child. More...

How to Survive Christmas Break

2009-12-29T15:56:00.000-08:00

1. Don’t play stupid board games with your children. (*cough* Killer Bunnies *cough*)

2. Don’t ever ask them to be quiet during nap time. You will go insane from the effort.

3. Employ the children as your personal slaves.

4. Allow as much Wii time as humanly possible. Break only to pee and eat.
More...

Messy Monday

2009-12-28T13:12:00.000-08:00

After spending much too long attempting to upload today's photo, I have decided that this week's Messy Monday will have to be described. You will be required to use your imagination and I will have to dust off my descriptive skills. You see, WordPress does not like me today, but it will not prevent Messy Monday. More...

A Merry Christmas Post

2009-12-27T14:27:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! We had a fabulous Christmas this year despite having a sick baby most of the week. I've been singing the Hallelujah chorus every time I give my sweet baby antibiotics. Thank heavens for modern medicine. More...

Dear Medical Assistant,

2009-12-26T17:13:00.000-08:00

I would like to give you some tips and pointers on appropriate phone behavior. I could tell when I spoke with you that you are young and likely have no children of your own. Here are some things to keep in mind next time you speak with a worried mother: More...

Grown Up Children

2009-12-26T17:11:00.000-08:00

From time to time, I look at my children and see their adult-selves. I catch a glimpse of what they may be like. It may be in an action, or a look. It's like I will have a moment to see the future, see who they will become. More...

Car Dancing

2009-12-26T17:09:00.000-08:00

I'm in my sexy mini-van, sitting at a stop light with the radio blaring. I am car dancing and I could care less who sees it. Over the din of the music, you can hear screams. I look over at the car next to me, and some young thing primping in her itty-bitty car mirror shoots me a wilting glance. The light changes and I drive off, singing along to Matchbox 20 and ignoring the toddler in the back.
More...

A Mom's Christmas List

2009-12-15T10:17:00.000-08:00

Dear Santa,

I've been pretty good this year. I only yell at the kids once in a while and I try to be fun on occasion. I keep my husband happy most of the time and I haven't killed any pets this year. I don't know about you, but that's success in my book!

I don't really need a bunch more stuff. That would just require more cleaning and when you come down the chimney I think it will be painfully obvious that that is not my forte. No, the things on my list are fairly simple, really.

The first thing I'd like is for all of the socks in my house to have a match. My children don't seem to mind wearing mismatched socks, but it drives me a little crazy every time I fold them and the pile of single socks is greater than the pile of matched socks. Is that too much to ask?

Number two on my list may be a little harder, but I really think it's doable. I would like for my children to never be without a coat. Oh, they don't need new coats; they just need the ability to keep track of the ones they have. I almost super glued my son's coat to his head this morning, but I was afraid that would put me on the naughty list.

My third item is a bit more extravagant, but once again, I believe totally doable. I would like a laundry maid. I need someone to fold and put away my laundry once a week. My husband claims it doesn't bother him, but when he has to wrap a towel around himself to go in search of underwear, I sense a little dissatisfaction.

Santa, I’m all for world peace, but I need a little peace in my home first. So, for my last request, I want children who don’t beat on each other. Most specifically, the two-year old needs some help. Don’t put her on the naughty list; just give her a crash course in not beating on her sister.

Sincerely,

P.S. There’s a pile of laundry and a few toys by the fire place, so watch out on your entrance this year.

Messy Monday

2009-12-14T07:34:00.000-08:00

This week's Messy Monday comes to you via the den. The den is No-man's land. It's the place of all the paper stuffs. It's Dad's room and I don't venture there except to add more paper. The pictures are a little blurry today due to a crappy camera and a helping infant. It's better this way. A sharp, crisp image would merely scare you away!

Where's your mess today?

P.S. To all of my readers, I have a bit of an announcement. (No I'm not pregnant!) I have been in the process of moving my blog. You can find me at www.staceysmotheringmoments.com. If you follow me here, come follow me over there. I'm not sure how long I'll post to both, so come join me! Happy Monday!

Just Smile!

2009-12-13T15:19:00.000-08:00

The weather may be frightful, the house may be a disaster, but all you need to do is see this and smile!

One of the things I love most about children, is their ability to be spontaneous and find joy in just about everything!

Winter coat

2009-12-10T07:17:00.001-08:00

I saw red. I tried not to, but I did. HOW? How in the world do you forget a coat when it is 6, count them...6, degrees outside. Patience will elude me in this.

I shouldn't have lectured, but I did. I should have maintained my composure, but I definitely didn't. As we walked out the door last night to go see the Christmas lights, I was fuming. I know he's only 7, but seriously!

I thought back to my own childhood. I remember my mother insisting I take gloves to school. I remember taking them off as soon as I was out of sight of her car and refusing to wear them during recess. I'm sure I made my mother crazy. Common sense and popularity do not go well together. And yet, I survived, and I still have my hands.

I made my son wear his sister's old Cheer coat to school. I figured at least it's blue and he'll have something to wear until he locates his coat at school. He was mildly unhappy, but I'm sure he could tell there was no room for discussion. I made him take a hat and gloves. He may not wear them, but at least I'm giving him the choice not to freeze to death.

After the kids walked out the door, I returned to the laundry room. I put a load of whites in and picked up the random things off the floor to tidy up a bit. And then I saw it. The elusive coat was behind the door. Hiding. Refusing to be found. Insisting that it be thought to be at school on this cold, winter day.

I sighed a heavy sigh. I gave the wrong lecture. He needed the "put your stuff away" lecture, not the "don't leave your coat at school" lecture. Then again, I'm sure he could do without a lecture at all.

Lessons will be learned.

White Puppy

2009-12-08T11:30:00.000-08:00

Most of my children have a lovey: a treasured stuffed animal or blankie that is slept with and loved to bits and pieces. M's lovey is a stuffed dog that was given to him by his aunt when he was a toddler. It was aptly named White Puppy, though now days, it should be Gray Puppy.

He drug it around when it was bigger than he was, and it still goes with us to all important events. White Puppy is well traveled and has been camping, to the Caribbean and to Yellowstone, just to name a few.

About a month ago, White Puppy was taken to the basement to help with a fort the children were building. When I tucked M into bed that night, he informed me that he didn't know where White Puppy went. I asked if he was in the basement. He shrugged and I told him he was welcome to go look.

He never went and looked. White Puppy was lost to the depths of the basement and apparently, if you are a child, you can only venture down there with a willing sibling. The last month has been a very busy one, and there hasn't been a willing sibling available, and M never remembers until bedtime.

Last night, as I was tucking M in, I noticed that White Puppy was still MIA. I asked about it, and M teared up. I said goodnight and went to the 'oh so scary basement' and found White Puppy quite quickly. I walked into my sons room with White Puppy behind my back. He instantly sat up and tried to see what I had. When I showed him, he started to cry and he hugged his beloved dog. I sat and hugged them both and he thanked me while tears ran down his face.

"I thought he was gone forever", he whispered.

As I left his room, I realized that I was my son's hero. He was too scared to go rescue his dog, and too stubborn to ask me to do it for him.

I smiled to myself as I went downstairs. I'm glad I could brave the deep, dark basement for the lovey that was lost.

Sleep tight, my son.

Messy Monday

2009-12-07T07:09:00.001-08:00

This week's Messy Monday is, once again, a two-fer. First, I bring to you the toy bucket that has turned into the toy corner. And will most likely turn into the toy room if I'm not careful. You see, toys multiply and replenish themselves in the night. Toys and socks get together in the dark and PARTY.

It seems no matter how many times I go through the toys, they get spread through the house and are never in the place they are supposed to be. Where is YOUR toy mess?

Part two comes to you from a very mischievous two-year old and is actually from yesterday morning. This is what I found when I came to get her ready for church.

Isn't she lovely? It was pink marker that I scrubbed and scrubbed and still didn't get off completely. She was also covered in red juice from these little red candies she got into. She got a bath that we didn't have time for and we were nearly late to church as a result of her escapades. Nothing like a little Sunday excitement.

I also have to mention that M turned 7 yesterday. We had a successful birthday party at home, complete with presents and cake. He received a lego set, the requested movie, and some bakugans from us. Due to anticipation, we let him open his grandparents gifts on Saturday. His birthday was declared a great success!

Where is your mess today?

The Date Night Saga

2009-12-04T12:09:00.000-08:00

My husband had a work party last night. I was so excited to get out. I had arranged babysitting and was determined to enjoy an evening with my spouse. Of course my little sidekick got to come, but after toting six children, toting one didn't seem like a big deal.

I've been feeling a tad frumpy, so I decided to go shopping. Now when I say shopping, I mean: go to Target, pray I find something cute, try it on in the largest dressing room so that the cart fits, change fast enough that the toddler unlocking the door won't expose me to the world, and get out as fast as humanly possible.

We had good luck at Target and I successfully bought myself a new sweater, new slacks and a new blouse. I was ready for a night on the town!

I had to get the children to the sitter's house (which happened to be my sweet sister-in-law) by 5:30, which meant I had to leave my house by 5:20. I had decided that I would have time to feed the kids dinner before hand, which meant I would have to be dressed by 5. It seemed reasonable when I planned it. But of course, chaos reigned supreme.

4:20 Kids mostly had homework done and I was nearly ready to go primp. O decides she wants to poop in the potty. I haul her in and sit her on the toilet. She spends the next 5 minutes declaring "poopoo all gone" even though nothing had exited her body.

4:30 I give up on O, put a diaper on her and carry the baby football style up to my room so I can get dressed. On my way up the stairs I holler to A that he still needs to practice the piano.

4:35 The baby is fussing in her jumper. She usually loves it in there, but not tonight. I pull her out and brush my teeth with her under my arm, once again football style. I determine that this will never work, so I put her in her bed, knowing she would cry, but needing five whole minutes to myself. I then run downstairs and pop a frozen chicken pot pie in the oven.

4:40 I am now dressed in my new clothes. I consider this a major victory. I slap some nail polish on my toes and proceed to walk around on my heels trying to find some perfume. I know I own some.

4:42 O comes in and informs me she "pooped again". I can smell her, but I send her out. I still need to curl my hair and put on make up. K comes in crying about some injustice, I pat her head and send her out.

4:45 My toes are mostly dry and I'm curling my hair. I hear piano music, if you can call banging on the piano out of frustration music, and am glad that at least some of my orders are being heeded. L walks in holding the baby.

"Why did you get her out?" I ask.

"She was crying mom, here." L tries to shove the baby at me, but I inform her that if she gets her out, she gets to play with her.

4:50 Hair is curled, makeup applied and the stench from the two-year old is overwhelming. I abandon any further primping I might have done ten years ago and go change her diaper. I take the crying baby from her sister, get her dressed and sit down to nurse her.

4:55 M comes in and shoves my phone at me. "It was ringing." Then O comes in and decides she wants her pants on. She wouldn't let me put them on her when I changed her. I told her she'd have to wait, or go ask her big sister. "NO!! Me do it." I then got to watch her struggle with them. She ultimately gives up, gets out some stretchy grey pants which she proudly wears inside out.

4:59 I'm finishing up nursing when I hear M start to holler that the pot pie is done. I holler down that somebody needs to pull it out so it doesn't burn. Nobody listens to me. When E pulls off, I declare her fed, and run downstairs to salvage the pot pie. Thankfully, it's still edible.

5:05 I start slapping frozen waffles onto plates for everyone who didn't want a pot pie and holler at them to eat. I go in the piano room and play for A a section of music that he can't get right and I go find my shoes.

Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, I feed children, pack a bag so they can get PJ's on later, pack a diaper bag, and get everyone in the car. Everyone except for K who is wandering the house crying about socks and shoes. On my way out the door my husband calls to see if I've left yet and if not, can I grab a few things for him. Sure, why not. I'm only insane now.

5:40 As I stand beside the car, finally ready to leave, I take a deep breathe and realize that despite my best efforts I feel more like 'Mom' than 'Sexy wife'.

The evening itself was a tad anti-climatic. It was fine. It made me miss pre-kid dating for sure.

Wish List

2009-12-03T14:05:00.000-08:00

M turns 7 on Sunday. His birthday is apparently all the rage and he has his siblings counting down with him. He's a difficult child to shop for because he wants it all. He wants the toy store and every ad on TV. A couple of days ago, he walks in the door from school and hands he his wish list.

1. TV
2. PSP
3. More games
4. Hot wheels
5. Night at the Museum
6. ipod
7. Rabbits go to home
8. XBOX

Your guess is as good as mine on #8. #5 is a possibility because I've actually heard that one more than once. #4 is odd seeing as how he's never played with Hot Wheels, but whatever. And to the majority of his list I say it's always good to dream!

Struggles of a SAHM

2009-12-01T12:01:00.000-08:00

**For those not versed in Internet lingo, SAHM stands for stay-at-home mom and I will use it throughout this article. It's easier to type!**

I love that I am able to be home with our children. I love that I don't have to work and that I am the one responsible for our children's care. It is a blessing and I will never deny that.

There is, however, a downside to being a SAHM. There's this thing that happens called guilt. I get tired of the constant-ness that is my life. The laundry is always there, the toys always need to be cleaned up. No matter how sparkly clean I can get my house, I can guarantee it will all be undone tomorrow. And every once in a while I have a day like today when I just don't want to.

Don't want to what?

I don't want to do any of it. I want to watch TV all day and eat bon bons, by golly!

That's where the guilt creeps in. There's this nagging in the back of my mind. I keep thinking how I haven't done ANYTHING today. I'm so lazy! I start itemizing all the projects that I've left undone. My bedroom is a mess. You can't walk through the basement without breaking a leg.

As I was contemplating my "lazy" day and all the things I haven't done, I decided to figure out what I've actually accomplished today.

1. Got the older kids off to school
2. Ran 4 1/2 miles
3. Did 1 load of laundry
4. Swept the floor
5. Took out the trash
6. Fed children
7. Got a shower
8. Put breakfast away
9. Changed diapers and dressed the little girls, although I've yet to fix anyone's hair

But then I *gasp* did "nothing"! I watched the news while playing on the computer. And I'm currently contemplating having chicken pot pies for dinner from the freezer. No, not the homemade kind. And guess what, it's OK. The cops aren't going to bust me for being a bad mom because I didn't complete my to-do list. And I've learned from experience that the bedroom and basement will still be there tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.

My post today ends with a question. Where does this pressure come from to "do it all"? At my house, it doesn't come from my husband or my mother or anyone else, for that matter. And yet I feel it. It taunts me.

Messy Monday

2009-11-30T07:08:00.001-08:00

This week, I bring you Messy Monday times two! Aren't you excited? I bet you are on the edge of your seat! The first part of Messy Monday comes in celebration of the Thanksgiving holiday. After all that yummy food, it has to go somewhere and I know many of us have done miraculous things with our refrigerators in an effort to fit all the leftovers in. Don't lie. You know your fridge looks something like this:

When I was trying to decide what to post for Messy Monday (I always have LOTS of options) my son informed me I should post a picture of the fridge. I disagreed, saying that it's not messy, it's merely full. However, I can see where he's coming from. To the untrained eye, it looks pretty bad.

The next mess is a constant thorn in my side. My desk. It is the catch-all. If we are cleaning and a child brings me something I don't know what to do with, it goes on my desk. There are CD's, piles of bills and who knows what else lurking on my desk. I do clean it off every so often, but it re-accumulates rather quickly.

Where's your mess this lovely Monday?

The Human Vacuum

2009-11-29T06:58:00.000-08:00

The baby is crawling. I told her there was no rush, but she didn't listen to me. The pull to follow her siblings was far too great.

With crawling comes one of my least favorite phases of babyhood. The Human Vacuum phase. I can barely get the baby to eat solids, so I figured she wouldn't be one that put many things in her mouth. Apparently, paper tastes better than applesauce.

A couple of days ago I went to nurse her. She began gagging, so I sat her up and she smiled at me. So I tried again. Again she started to gag. I swept her mouth with my finger and there was paper stuck to the roof of her mouth. Poor baby. Sweet potatoes don't compare with tidbits off the floor either.

When my older kids were little, it was easier to keep dangerous things off the floor. Now I have to be on the lookout for legos and k'nex. Even if I banish all small objects to the upstairs, they find their way down. Little mice appear in the night and spread them through the house. I'm sure of it.

I am now diligently vacuuming and sweeping. This diligence will last until the baby quits putting absolutely everything in her mouth. Then we'll go back to our usual filth.

For now, we are all on the lookout for the Human Vacuum and what she puts in her mouth.

Random Thanksgiving thoughts

2009-11-27T07:17:00.000-08:00

1. Children think it's a good Thanksgiving when they are allowed to eat popcorn balls for dinner.

2. Nap time should be required and arranged by the household in which Thanksgiving dinner is held. Babysitting should be provided.

3. If the toddler wants to drink milk all day, let her.

4. TV may be used as crowd control for the 20 plus children in attendance.

5. If you can't find Dad, he's probably taking a nap.

6. Having your wedding anniversary on Thanksgiving is anti-climatic. And no, we didn't do anything for our anniversary. That's what 12 years does to you.

7. Eat turkey until you need to loosen your pants. The 5K you ran in the morning does not allow you to eat more, it only allows you to feel less guilty when you do.

8. Your house will still look like a tornado struck it upon returning. Just be glad you weren't hosting the party this year.

9. When returning home late at night, put the toddler in her PJ's even if she is unconscious. Otherwise, she will wake up at the crack of dawn and INSIST on wearing her PJ's. You have two choices at this point: insanity, or put the blasted PJ's on her.

10. When it all comes down to it, if everything you own was gone tomorrow, you would still have what is most important: your family. And for that, I am thankful.

The Post-Baby Hair Loss Program

2009-11-25T06:40:00.000-08:00

Hello family and friends! Welcome to the Post-Baby Hair Loss Program. In this program you will learn how to lose as much hair as possible after having your precious baby. I have learned through years of experience that the hair loss is inevitable for most women and must be embraced. Embrace your clogged drains and plugged up vacuums. For the next six months to a year, this will be your life. For most, normal hair loss will eventually resume.

I have been a member of the Post-Baby Hair Loss Program for almost seven months this time around. It seems to have gotten worse this time and I am very much all done. When I was younger, I always felt bad when I saw a woman with super thin hair. Now I am afraid that may be me. I may need some Rogain. Sign me up!

When I was in college, I got super grossed out by roommates who shed ridiculous amounts of hair, but wouldn't clean out the drains. I couldn't stand taking a shower when the water wouldn't drain, so I was the roommate who cleaned out the drains. It's not any less gross when it's all your own hair and I find myself once again cleaning out drains because of excessive hair.

To celebrate nearly seven months of hair loss, I decided to get a haircut to see if that would help. The verdict is still out, but if nothing else it made me feel better about myself. And I got rid of the kids for forty-five minutes.

There are many many things to celebrate with the birth of a new baby. Apparently, hair loss is one of them. So join me in celebration! We may not be shedding pounds, but we are all shedding hair!

Messy Monday

2009-11-23T06:52:00.000-08:00

This week's Messy Monday comes to you with an attitude of gratitude. After dinner every night, the children rotate chores. There's washing, unloading, loading in, and clearing the table. O decided she needed a chore too, so we gave her the chore of putting the silverware away. This is what it looks like:

What is the gratitude part? Well, I am grateful for a two-year-old who is excited to help and LOVES to do her chore. I'm also grateful that although the other children don't share her enthusiasm, they all do a fabulous job pitching in and only occasionally whine and complain. (Ok, so there's usually at least one whiner a night, but they still get the job done!)

FAQ

2009-11-21T07:09:00.000-08:00

"You have SIX kids? Holy cow. How do you do it?"

I actually hear this, or something very similar, on a fairly regular basis. It seems that having six kids is equivalent to having two heads or a third eyeball. You should see the looks we get. In response to this question I answer one of the following:

"Sometimes I don't do it."

"One day at a time."

"Very carefully."

And sometimes I just smile and nod. It's not like I woke up one day and suddenly had six kids. It was gradual (I'm not the octomom), and I've made adjustments. I also think many women underestimate themselves.

The next thing I hear is, "I could NEVER do it. I can barely handle my (insert # of children here)."

My response:

"Sometimes I can't either."

"Yup. It's definitely busy."

"I felt the same way when I had (insert # of children person has)."

It's true. It's always hard to imagine handling more than you currently have.

I must admit that at times it probably does look like utter chaos. And sometimes that's exactly what it is. But it's not like I'm some superwoman with mad patience. I've just made adjustments. The old phrase "Don't sweat the small stuff" rings very true when you are outnumbered six to one. The house isn't pristine, the laundry is a constant battle and sleep deprivation is just the norm.

The awesome thing is that I wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Are you happy?" I get this one with looks of consternation.

I read an article recently debating happiness in families with or without children as well as with larger numbers of children. Now there's a great debate. My response to all the people that think having children brings misery upon a marriage and the world is this: Having children is not easy. But true happiness does not come from easy, it comes from hard work. Children will bring more sorrow, and more joy than anything else you will ever accomplish in your life. Are we happy? Absolutely. Is it hard? You betcha. Is every moment like skipping through the daisies? Not even close.

The world at large needs to reevaluate what happiness truly is. And yes, I am happy.

Motherhood Onset ADD

2009-11-19T06:13:00.000-08:00

You've heard of ADD and ADHD. You've probably even heard of Adult onset ADD. But have you ever heard of Motherhood Onset ADD? Well, that's what I have. Let me explain a few of my symptoms. I bet some of you have it too.

I can't sit still.

I have developed the inability to sit still through a church meeting. I have been wrangling children through church meetings for ten years and on the off-chance that I am alone, I can't sit still. I'll play with other people's children, or whisper to my neighbor. I'll fidget or bite my nails. I can't sit still.

If I'm at the computer, I can only concentrate in five minute intervals. And that's the maximum. In reality, it's more like 30 seconds. I am used to being interrupted so often that even if I'm not, I lose my concentration after a few minutes.

I have also developed the inability to finish my sentences. It takes such effort to have a conversation when children are around and I find myself forgetting what I was saying on a regular basis. Many of my sentences start like this: "Umm, I forgot what I was going to say." My sister and I can have whole conversations like this.

I've also discovered that having a lazy, sit-around day at home is now virtually impossible. On the off-chance that I have nothing planned, I find it extremely difficult to just hang out. I get bored. And then I start wondering if I'm forgetting something because we ALWAYS have something on the calendar. Of course, half the time I forget the things that are scheduled.

I know many of you are nodding your head in agreement. But don't hang your head and cry. There's a simple solution. Get rid of your children. Ok, not so simple, but I have a feeling it would rid you and me of many of our symptoms. After all, what we have is merely Motherhood Onset ADD.

Big Slobbery Kisses

2009-11-18T07:24:00.000-08:00

O is at the age when you can tell her to do silly things and she will willingly do them. For example, I can tell her to go kiss her brother and she will run off and do it.

Two nights ago, the kids were running through the house creating their usual chaos. I was sitting on the floor with the baby when A started standing on his head. O came and plopped herself down next to me. I leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Go poke your brother in the belly button."

She grinned and took off. But instead of poking him in the belly button, she leaned down and kissed him, then took off running. A fell over and I started giggling.

"Mom, what did you tell her to do that for?" I laughed because that's not what I told her to do.

M was beside himself, giggling on the floor. O comes over to me and sticks her ear next to my face for another 'secret'. This time I told her to go kiss him. A was on his head again and O poked his belly button, turned and grinned at me.

Over the course of the next few minutes, O gave both her brothers kisses, which were met with much protesting and ewww's. I finally determined that both boys needed big slobbery kisses from their mother. M was easy to hold down and with the assistance of his big brother, I successfully delivered a big slobbery kiss. A knew it was his turn next and tried to take off. But amidst giggles, he fell to the floor. I thought I had him. That was until his very long legs kicked out and got me squarely in the nose.

Boy did that hurt. He was very concerned and came to make sure I was ok. After I recovered, I made sure he got extra slobbery kisses to make up for my injury.

They were all sufficiently wiped off afterwards. He is ten, after all.

Out on the town!

2009-11-17T06:44:00.000-08:00

Friday evening I was anxious to get out of the house. I asked the kids what they wanted to go do.

"Out to dinner!" A suggested.

I had to clarify. I wanted to get out of the house and do something "fun and free." I figured that narrowed it down a bit, but the kids didn't seem to get the "free" part very well. I got suggestions of going to a movie, renting a movie, and Chucke Cheese. The "Fun and Free" concept was not being grasped.

Suddenly, A piped up, "Let's make our OWN restaurant! We can make menus and everything." And so began a lovely evening. The kids spent the next hour making menus. It was leftover night, which worked out perfectly. We had quite a few choices on our menu. M was a tad disillusioned when he found out it was just our family coming to our restaurant and that we wouldn't be charging 'real' money. But he got over it and joined in the fun. We set a nice tablecloth on the table and the kids 'drove' to the restaurant.

I dug out an old shirt with my name on it from my waitress days long ago, and became their waitress. Upon arrival, I was informed that A drove the car, but was pulled over by a cop on the way to the restaurant.

They had a grand time calling me Miss and giggled every time I called them 'Ma'am and Sir'. I got a handsome tip from homemade money and they 'drove' home.

Upon 'returning home' I was informed that as soon as Dad came home, we were going out to dinner too. Dad was a little confused when I told him we were going out for dinner, but once in the garage I explained. So Dad and I had a 'date' of sorts, complete with waitresses and a fabulous cook. It was a ton of fun and a very memorable evening.

A told me later that it was definitely the best "fun and free" idea we had ever had!

So next time you and your kids are itching to get out but need something "fun and free", I highly recommend having an in-home restaurant! What a memory maker!

Messy Monday

2009-11-16T06:47:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the return of Messy Monday! Last week I was a little under the weather and took a hiatus from Messy Monday. The whole house was Messy. It was a tad depressing. But I'm better and Messy Monday is back!

This week's Messy Monday is brought to you in part by shoes. Shoes and socks will be the death of me. (The laundry may help.) I've tried to organize them, but they seem to multiply in the night. They go in the baskets. The flaw is that when one of the kids can't find a shoe, they chuck the rest of the shoes out of the basket onto the floor. And of course they don't put them back. Before long, it's a hazard getting out the garage door.

Where's your mess today?

Sleep

2009-11-13T07:44:00.000-08:00

I lay in bed, wrapped up in my comforter, trying to ignore the noises coming from the bedrooms down the hall. They aren't sad noises, just awake noises. I pry my eyes open and glance at the clock. It's 6:45 a.m.

All the books and websites tell me that my children should be sleeping until at least 8 a.m. because that's how many hours of sleep they supposedly need. They've obviously never met MY children.

I close my eyes and lay there for a few minutes. There have been times that I've considered being the super-organized mom. You know, the mom that gets out of bed at six and is all ready for the day before the children are awake. That thought usually lasts a whole five seconds. I like my sleep and I dread the day that my oldest goes to Junior High. He will just have to be self-sufficient because anything before 7 a.m. is still the middle of the night in my book.

I hear O telling Don Juan to get out of her room. I know there's no going back now. She's definitely awake and she hasn't learned that Mom doesn't get up early. Then I hear a little squeak that I know is E.

I groan a little and sit up. I rub my face, stretch and start thinking about my day. It's Friday, and there's not much on the agenda. But I've been under the weather all week and the house needs some TLC now that I'm feeling better. I sigh and reach for my glasses that are on the end table next to the clock.

I walk down the hall, wondering how in the world E could be awake already. I am well aware of how little she slept during the night. I peek into O's room. She grins, knowing she has permission to get out of bed now. I walk into E's room and peek into her crib and I am immediately rewarded for all my hard work. E sees me and instantly smiles. I pick her up and hug her to me. I smell her head and kiss her little cheeks. Who needs sleep anyway?

First ever blogging award!

2009-11-12T20:28:00.000-08:00

I am totally flattered to have received my first ever blogging award! Thank you Brianne for the lemonade stand award! Check out her blog for some cute moments that will definitely make you smile!

I'm a novice at this, but here are the rules:

The rules are as followed:

- Put the Lemonade logo on your blog or within your post.
- Nominate at least 10 blogs with great attitude or gratitude.
- Link the nominees within your post.
- Let the nominees know they have received this award by commenting on their blog.
- Share the love and link to the person from whom you received this award.

My first nominee is The Prana Mama.She has a wonderful blog centered around motherhood and yoga. She definitely has a great and calming attitude!

Nikki, over at The Housewife Chronicles makes me giggle. And Christine at From Dates to Diapers, a fellow mom to six, also has a great attitude amongst the chaos!

I also quite enjoy Nancy at If Evolution Works. So funny!

This next one goes to a blogger that is an incredible writer and who I've come to see as a kindred spirit, albeit halfway around the world. Her blog is definitely worth the time, but make sure you have a minute to read! Thank you Kerry for some truly amazing stories!

Next, is an amazing lady with quite the story, raising twins. You can find her at
Half of a Duo Raising a Duo.

The last one goes to a blog I've recently discovered.
Naomi writes a wonderful blog, has a great attitude and shares my love for babywearing!

Phew! I know that's not quite ten, but all that linking was hard! I hope you enjoy these amazing ladies as much as I have!

Who's the Mom Here?!?

2009-11-11T14:47:00.000-08:00

"Me, or all of you?"

"But MOM! She spit out ALL of her CANDY!" M declared loudly.

It seems that there's an overabundance of Mothers in our little home. You'd think one would be enough. Apparently not.

I remember being so aggravated with my own mother when she would declare to me that she WAS in fact the Mom. And now it's my turn to declare the same thing to my own children.

The children seem overly concerned that justice be doled out evenly amongst all of the siblings. They leave me no wiggle room, no chance to ignore a behavior if I'm just not in the mood. I am constantly telling them that yes I know Odessa is snitching chips, AGAIN. I am not unaware, I am just choosing my battles.

It doesn't help that the main offender at this moment in time is two and very mischievous.

"Moooom! O hit me!"

"Mooom! O is eating candy."

"Mooom! O stinks!"

Aside from being little informants I hear myself being repeated.

"K, get your fingers out of your mouth."

"A, you better not do that or you are going to get in TROUBLE."

I think the only cure is for them to grow up and produce little mothers of their own.

But seriously, who's the Mom here?

Fall

2009-11-10T12:05:00.000-08:00

Last week, we had perfect fall weather. The air was crisp, but the sun was warm. The leaves had fallen off the trees and made that lovely crunching sound when you walked through them. I decided to take the children to a nearby farm and let them run free. We stopped off at a store and bought a large bag of bird bread so we could feed the ducks.

We had a lovely picnic, but it didn't take long before the children were climbing trees and running through the leaves. For a minute, I wished we had a yard with large trees. Then I thought about raking and was glad we could just visit those lovely trees.

We hadn't been to the farm for a while, and O squealed with glee at all of the ducks and geese. It only took about ten minutes for the children to feed the birds all four loaves of bread. There were a couple of tense moments when the birds came a little too close for comfort.

After we ran out of bread, we went to visit the rest of the animals. We pet piglets, gawked at the horses, and commented on the smelly cows. Then the children discovered the tractors and everyone had a turn being Farmer Joe for a few minutes.

A didn't have enough time to climb enough trees, but we left the farm tired and mostly satisfied. Now, if I could just have my way, this beautiful fall weather would last until spring, then we'd go straight to summer. Too bad mother nature has her own agenda.

Survival of the Fittest and other church-capades

2009-11-08T20:18:00.000-08:00

Today is Sunday. A day of rest. Supposedly. I'm thinking that preparing six children, one husband and myself to attend 3 hours of meetings is not very restful. But that's just me.

Today began like any other Sunday. Church doesn't start until 11 a.m., so we dawdle in the morning. The kids watch cartoons and play the Wii. I get a shower. The baby takes a nap. Just the usual day.

And then we get to church.

For anyone curious, here are the things necessary to survive before we are mercifully allowed to send the children off to their meetings.

1. Bring snacks.

2. Bring a sippy.

3. Bring items of entertainment.

4. Leave all the children at home. Crap, can't do that one.

5. When two-year old throws tantrum, find a quiet corner in the hallway for her to scream.

6. Develop patience. Draw from Heavenly powers. We are at church after all. Shouldn't patience come more naturally?

7. Leave Dad alone with five children and go feed the baby. Plan this strategically so that the baby is hungry smack-dab in the middle of the meeting.

8. Pray.

9. Don't clock-watch. It's too depressing.

10. Books. Lots of books.

After O threw her first tantrum, I hauled her and the baby out in the hallway. We had time-out, then came reverently back in and sat down. She then decided to take off her sweater. Oh, wait. Just kidding. Then another tantrum. Dad's turn. By the time she and Dad returned, E was hungry and cranky.

Needless to say, it was a VERY long meeting today. I determined that I played the church game called how many times can mom leave the meeting.I think I won. I think some days are just better than others.

For all you church-goers out there, it's not impossible to attend with children. It's just harder. (Like just about everything else!) But don't give up, they do grow up eventually. At least that's what I kept telling myself today.

Mommy Brain

2009-11-06T06:58:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time there was a very smart lady. One day, she had kids. Then that very smart lady was very forgetful and occasionally a little ditzy. Her friends would whisper when she did something silly. The lady thought they were cruel, but they were really just telling each other a truth.

"That lady has mommy brain," they would say.

"Poor lady, now she's just like the rest of us."

I sometimes joke that I pushed the rest of my brain cells out with my sixth child. I'm only partially joking. I do things now that I never did before. I can't ever remember the date, and even when I do, I get it wrong about half the time. I told someone yesterday that I was sure it was November 6th because it's my Dad's birthday. My Dad's birthday is on the 5th, which was yesterday. I rock.

I lose my keys on a regular basis. Although, I partially blame children for that one. A certain two-year old (cough, O, cough) likes to play with them.

When K was a baby, A was in afternoon Kindergarten and I had to go pick him up. It was during nap time and I was always in a rush waking up kids, changing diapers and getting to the school on time. One day, upon arriving home, I went to get K out of her car seat only to find her completely soaked. I thought she had peed through her diaper. Nope. I had forgotten to put a diaper on her. Who does that? I had actually forgotten to diaper my baby. Lovely.

I leave my cell phone at home regularly. Apparently getting everyone AND a cell phone in the car is a near impossibility.

If it's not written on the calendar, then it doesn't happen. And even if it is written on the calendar, I still sometimes miss things. I can't seem to remember to send L to her church activity every other Friday. It's on my calendar, but I must not be able to read on Friday.

I've learned, however, that I'm not alone. I just have Mommy Brain. I think it's all the hormones, lack of sleep, and chaos from children that causes it. I think it's irreversible brain damage.

Mothers, just realize that when they hand you your beautiful newborn babe, they are also handing you your brain.

Conversation with a Two-Year Old

2009-11-04T19:52:00.000-08:00

A conversation with O in the car.

O: Mom, park!

Me: No, O, we aren't going to the park. It's dark out. You can't go when it's dark.

O: Moooom, PARK!

Me: No, O. It's dark.

Quiet. A moment later.

O: Mooom, Moooooom!!! PARK!! DARK!!

Me: No park O. Yes, it's dark.

O: (to herself) Park, dark.

I turn up the music in the van and pray. This could go on all night. O is not easily distracted.

A couple of minutes later.

O: Park!!

Me: O, we'll go tomorrow, ok? All done. No more. No park!!!

O: Morrow. Park. Dark.

Me:(Thinking grrrrrr!) Yes O. We can go to the park tomorrow.

There's a saying that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over but expecting a different outcome. We have this same conversation all the time, just take out 'park' and insert 'candy' or 'outside' or any number of other things. And somehow both of us expects a different outcome. I expect that she'll give it up sooner, and she expects to get her way. I suppose we are both a little insane.

Search for a missing pet

2009-11-03T06:56:00.000-08:00

"M, come feed the cats!" I holler. It's the kid's responsibility, but even with insistently mewing kitties, they manage to forget.

M feeds them, but a few minutes later I realize our Siamese, Winter, hasn't shown up for dinner. She does this on occasion. She has a tendency to hide. I can't say I blame her. If I had a two-year old dragging me through the house, I'd hide too.

I call for Winter, but she doesn't come. The kids call for her and start checking her hiding spots. Ten minutes later, I break out the heavy artillery, a can of tuna. She still doesn't come and I begin to realize she must be gone. We go outside and start calling her, but again, she doesn't come. As the children realize that our indoor cat is gone, several of them shed tears. Their prayers at night include praying that she comes home.

In the morning, I call the shelter. We call outside for her, but she still doesn't come. I realize, to myself, that the odds of her coming home are not likely. You see, our house backs a major road that is under construction. I just hope we don't find her that way.

We find pictures of her and the boys make up a flyer. I take it to Office Max and make 25 copies. A is disappointed that I didn't make color copies.

We spend the morning posting flyers and knocking on doors. The children are hopeful that someone just kept her for the night. But the longer we walk, the more their hope dims.

M asks, "If we can't find Winter, can we get another cat?"

"Probably not." I say with a sigh. Pushing a double stroller with the baby in her sling is very tiring.

"But that means maybe we could, right?" Ah, he knows me too well. I keep quiet and we finish hanging flyers.

It is a beautiful day and although the children are tired and ready for lunch, looking for Winter turned into quite the fun adventure. I just hope she comes home.

In the evening, after dinner, I employ my crew of mini-slaves to help tidy the disastrous house. It was sorely neglected in lieu of searching for our cat. I excused the kids after an hour and sat on the floor in the bathroom finishing up. And then I heard her. Winter was mewing at the front door. I hop up declaring, "I hear a cat!" I open the door, and there she is. I feel like a disappointed parent, glad she is home, but scolding her for taking off.

M is near tears for joy. Odessa picks her up, carries her around and proclaims, "Kitty home!" Even she understands. A member of our family returned.

A says, "Mom, lets get her a collar tomorrow." And our happy family is whole once more.

Messy Monday

2009-11-02T06:34:00.001-08:00

This week's Messy Monday comes to you in part by the lovely Halloween holiday. (I love saying it that way. It sounds like a commercial.) In reality, I could take pictures of my whole house for this week's Messy Monday, but I won't bore you. After a week of kids being home every day, the house has suffered greatly. Never fear! I have mini-slaves I intend to put to work today!

Where's your mess today?

On a sad note, somehow our little cat Winter got out yesterday, so I will also be spending time today trying to find her.

Happy Messy Monday!

Halloween

2009-11-01T07:29:00.000-08:00

Happy Halloween from a Starburst, a Pteradactyl, a Hippie, an Indian Princess, Snow White, Elmo and Winnie the Pooh!

Halloween was approached with much anticipation this year. I didn't throw my annual party, and by October 31st, the children were nearly ready to explode. The day had the feeling of a bad road trip. I could almost hear, "Are we there yet?" Instead I heard, "How much longer until we can go trick or treating?"

"It's 10:30. You have a while." Sigh. Oh for the enthusiasm of youth!

In order to preserve my sanity, I allowed the children to fry their brains on television and Wii games. O would occasionally bring me her bucket and ask, "More candy?" She didn't go last year, she was too little.

But finally, finally, the time came. The little girls were nearly dragging their father out the door. A is all grown up now, apparently, and went with some friends. E and I stayed home and held down the fort, happily handing out candy to all the little ghosties and ghouls.

Upon arriving home, the kids had to dump their candy out for inspection. K lined hers up in no particular order, while M segregated his into types of candy. L and O, on the other hand, just started finding her favorite things to eat. Dad and I got lucky and discovered the kids don't like peanut M&M's. I didn't complain one bit.

And so another Halloween has passed us by. Before I know it, I'll be writing about Christmas. Yikes!

The Damage

Cats and Kids: a comparison

2009-10-30T12:36:00.001-07:00

Don Juan

We have two cats, Don Juan and Winter. I love those stupid cats, but I've discovered several ways in which cats and kids are eerily similar.

1. Cats and kids both feel the need to accompany me to the bathroom. If I escape alone, I can guarantee paws and fingers and toes emerging underneath the door.

2. Cats and kids like to play in the toilet. What is it about the bathroom? I don't personally find it that interesting, but at any given time I can be certain to find either a cat perched on the toilet lapping up water, or a kid putting stuff in it to flush.

3. Cats and kids whine about being fed on a regular basis. And both get louder the longer you ignore their pleas.

4. Cats and kids feel the need to plant themselves right in the middle of whatever you are doing. If you have a cat and you are reading a newspaper or magazine on the floor, the cat will most likely plant him/herself right on top. I've had kids do the same thing.

5. Cats and toddlers are afraid of the vacuum. This doesn't apply as much to older kids, but my cats and toddler run for the hills every time I turn on the vacuum.

Maybe instead of saying I have 6 kids, I should count the cats and say I have 8. They act just like my toddler most of the time anyway. Darn cats!

Winter

How to survive a non-napping two-year old

2009-10-28T19:54:00.000-07:00

This is a 'How-to' guide for mother's of children making the transition to 'Big Kid' by no longer napping. It is a sad, sad, sad (did I mention sad?) day when a child decides that a nap is no longer necessary.

Step 1: Allow yourself one full week of mourning. This can include wearing black, crying and moodiness.

Step 2: Put child down for a nap anyway, it makes you feel better even if you can 'hear' them napping.

Step 3: When toddler emerges from "nap", glare at toddler and declare, "That wasn't a nap!"

Step 4: When child begins throwing tantrums because of obvious lack of sleep, go to your happy place.

Step 5: One hour before bedtime, lock yourself in a padded room. The alternative, and more realistic option is to ignore the stomping, screaming, crying, screaming, stomping child. You may try a time-out. Good luck with that.

Step 6: Don't anger it.

Step 7: Pray that bedtime comes quickly.

Step 8: Breathe a sigh of relief when toddler is in bed for the night and go get yourself a snack. You deserve to eat something nice without sharing. You just survived the insanity of a non-napping toddler. Kudos to you!

First snow

2009-10-27T13:27:00.000-07:00

"It's snowing!" K declares.

"Can we play in it?" asks A.

I sigh a yes, knowing whats ahead. Finding snow clothes, dressing children and getting them outside into the snow is a herculean task. They all need help at the same time and not one of them has patience.

I send A off with the task of hauling the bucket of snow clothes upstairs and I brace myself for the chore ahead. And since it's the first snow of the year, we have to go about the task of passing boots and snow pants down to whomever they may fit. I start making mental notes of who needs what to survive this winter.

O gets help first, and I get her all bundled up. I can see the anticipation in her eyes. "Outside?" she asks. "Yes, in a minute."

I move on to K. The baby is in my lap, arching herself backwards while the boys hop around, attempting to put on snow pants inside out. I inform them of their error, which has them on the floor giggling. I try to get K to hold still long enough for me to tie her boots while keeping E from hurling herself off my lap onto the tile.

I finally get up, exasperated, and go put E in bed. I know she will cry, but I need two minutes without her so I can get the kids dressed the rest of the way and out the door. Five minutes and a very upset baby later, I shoo four kids out the back door with a warning.

"Come in through the garage!" I holler, not knowing if they will actually listen. I settle the baby down and put her in her crib for a nap.

Finally. Quiet. I know it will be short-lived and that soon I will be stripping wet clothing off of the children. But for the moment the house is still.

There are many months ahead of enthusiastic children wanting to play outside. I can only hope for patience and efficiency. Perhaps next time it will all go more smoothly.

Messy Monday

2009-10-26T07:22:00.001-07:00

This week's Messy Monday comes to you via the laundry room. A few weeks ago, I paid my children to clean out the van. They did a fabulous job. That is, until I learned that they merely dumped the contents of the van on the floor of the laundry room. I haven't had time to clean it out and here it sits.

Lucky for me, the kids are off-track for three weeks, and I'm sure they will have an opportunity to clean out the laundry room.

Where's your mess today?

Uh Oh!

2009-10-25T07:49:00.000-07:00

My little trouble maker looks so innocent. What is that on her face? She found her sister's stamp and applied it generously to her face.

Managing Expectations

2009-10-23T07:49:00.001-07:00

Chaos. Complete and utter chaos. That pretty much describes how yesterday went. All week I looked at my calendar and breathed a sigh of relief when I looked at Thursday. Thursday was blank. Not a thing written on it. A day to catch up. So when Thursday came and then Thursday went with a total of five seconds to myself, I was a teeny bit disappointed. I accomplished nothing on my list, and the house erupted into utter chaos. I ran from one thing to the next all day. So much for nothing on the calendar.

As I went to bed last night I had visions of grandeur. I had visions of spending a day cleaning. I could picture an immaculate house, even if it only lasted for five minutes. I pictured cleaning the bathroom, actually finishing the laundry for once and maybe even tackling my bedroom.

And then E woke up at her usual time to nurse during the night. She had been a little sneezy yesterday, but I didn't think anything of it. Amidst the chaos I didn't realize she was getting sick. As she struggled to nurse despite her obvious congestion, I began to rewrite my vision of my day. I realized that the laundry probably won't get put away, the floor will probably still be sticky and I'll be lucky to find the tabletop. I knew that today would be filled with tending to a sick infant.

My husband is always telling me that it's all about managing expectations. I find that to be true about life in general, but especially about motherhood. It's so easy to get frustrated when your expectations aren't met day after day. But when I change my expectations, I find that it's much easier to be satisfied with what I have accomplished.

So while I doubt I will accomplish anything truly magnificent today, there is always tomorrow. And today I will snuggle my sick baby. Consider my expectations managed!

I don't wanna go to school!

2009-10-21T07:12:00.000-07:00

I had been waiting for L at the door. I was trying to make the boys be last out the door instead of first, but she never came. After I finally let the boys run to the bus stop, I come inside looking for L. I find her standing with her hood on her head like a cape, holding her lunch and backpack. She looks sad.

"What's wrong? I was waiting for you."

"I know, I don't wanna go to school." I pat her on the head knowingly. I remember not wanting to go to school. Not for any big, earth-shattering reason, but simply because I didn't want to go. It's much like not wanting to clean the house now.

L wanders around the house looking for something. I finally tell her she'd better get going or she will miss the bus. I walk her to the door, which she opens slowly. Then she turns and looks at me, her face screwed up, ready to cry.

"Mom, I think it already came."

Sure enough. No one is at the stop in front of our house. I know why she wants to cry about it. I had to institute a rule that if you miss the bus, you walk.

"I think it's at the one down the street. See those other kids running?" I point at some other kids running for the bus. L turns and runs before I can tell her I love her and that it will be ok. She doesn't see me follow her to the bus stop in my too-short PJ pants. She'd probably be embarrassed anyway.

Part of me wants to climb aboard that bus and give her a big hug and tell her she can stay home and play with me. But another part of me knows she'll be just fine and she may even have a good day. I know she needs to learn that we often have to do things we don't want to do. But the memory of her face: fallen, dejected, and sad, stays with me.

How many times?

2009-10-20T07:12:00.000-07:00

How many times do I have to tell M that it's NOT ok to leave a trail of tortoise food on the floor when he feeds his tortoise?

How many times do I have to tell the kids NOT to dump cat food on the floor when they feed the cats?

How many times do I have to tell the boys that it's a BIG no no to put clean, folded clothes in their dirty laundry basket?

How many times do I have to tell the children to put their shoes away?

How many times do I have to tell the little girls that it's NOT ok to draw on the walls?

How many times do I have to tell the kids NOT to beat the snot out of each other?

How many times do I have to put kids in time-out before I will be listened to the first time?

How many times do I have to clean up after the stupid cats who seem to forget where their cat box is on a regular basis?

How many times do I have to tell L that if she puts things away she WON'T lose them?

How many times do I have to tell K that it's NOT ok to pull on the baby's legs while I'm holdiing her?

Don't get me wrong, I have great kids. But there are days that I feel like you could just put on a record of my most repeated phrases and they wouldn't even notice that I wasn't there. How many times? I think until I die would be a good answer.

Messy Monday

2009-10-19T11:48:00.000-07:00

I don't claim to be some fanatically clean housewife. In fact, I claim just the opposite. I'm plagued with messes of my own making, but mostly those my children make. I try my hardest to organize closets, declutter and dejunk. But these little people that surround me have me at a great disadvantage. So instead of being one of those blogs that posts "to-do" lists, inspiring mothers around the world to do all their stuff, I am going to do the opposite. I am going to post my reality (and probably yours too, if you are brave enough to admit it). So, join me for my first official MESSY MONDAY !

Today, I'd like to highlight my pencil drawers. At one point in time they were a thing of beauty. Then the kids got to them. Now you are lucky to find anything you really want. And even then, you have to want it bad and be willing to dig. Some day, I will fix them.

What do YOUR pencil drawers look like? Are you secretly like me, or would you scoff at my ridiculously messy drawer?

A week in review

2009-10-16T07:09:00.000-07:00

Monday: Messy house, mom's birthday, abandoned any and all plans to be productive and went to lunch with my mom and my sister. House still a mess. Didn't get laundry done. Children complain.

Tuesday: Grocery shopping, laundry, messy house. Give up on potty training. (I said I would, didn't I?) Heaps of laundry piled on couch so I can vacuum.

Wednesday: Visit my sister and avoid messy house. Nap time is a joke. Seriously hoping Odessa doesn't quit napping yet. I'm so not ready for that.

Thursday: Garbage day. Messy house. Run 4 1/2 miles. Go me! Fold more laundry. Go to craft store. Entertain K by crafting. O back in diapers. Pullups too expensive to go through so many in one day. At least she still poops in the potty. Emily is attempting to crawl, little stinker. Dreamt about my sister-in-law going into labor. I hope it happens soon.

Friday: Messy house. Why does it look like I never clean? Got the kids to school and here I sit. Baby just woke up. And off I go.

Sometimes looking back on what I accomplish in a week is terribly depressing. It looks as though I really do sit around watching TV and eating bonbons. It doesn't seem that I've been so busy that I've had two whole minutes to myself this week. And that was locked in a bathroom with the cats and kids outside the door asking what I was doing. Love it! I just try to realize that I did in fact accomplish something. I accomplished survival of six kids! That's enough in my book!

What's on YOUR kitchen floor?

2009-10-13T11:15:00.000-07:00

Sadly, this floor was immaculate before the kids ate breakfast.

My children are unable to make the food actually enter their body via their mouth. It's physically impossible, I'm sure of it. The only evidence to the contrary is that they keep getting bigger.

What's on YOUR kitchen floor today? Do your children posses the ability to make the food actually enter their bodies? I'm truly curious!

FIRE!!!

2009-10-12T13:00:00.000-07:00

If, as a parent, you are ever bored and need something else to do, agree to own a pet. Then, when you are slightly insane, agree to own three. That way, when the children stop providing messes to clean up, you have something to do.

Wait. The children NEVER stop making messes.

In my own personal moment of insanity I agreed to owning two cats and a turtle.

But today, Joe the turtle nearly died from smoke inhalation. Some may remember The Burned Carpet Story in which Michael nearly burned down his room. Today's event I blame solely on the cats.

Thanks to my Aunt who distracted my mother, I got off my tushie and went upstairs to collect laundry and make an attempt at being productive. When I got up there, I smelled smoke and began to run from room to room to find what was burning. I went into the boys room and instantly knew what the problem was. The heat lamp in the turtle's cage had somehow (read stupid cat) been knocked into his cage and the substrate was smoldering. I think it was mere minutes from becoming a full blown fire.

So I got to run around like a crazy lady, dousing the fire and saving Joe. Not that I didn't have anything else to do this morning. Joe is one lucky turtle!

Hop on the Potty Train

2009-10-09T06:42:00.001-07:00

Potty training is by far the most evil, ridiculous thing a parent will ever have to do. I am now potty training my fifth child. You'd think I'd be an expert by now, but I have discovered that you can't potty train two children the same way. You can't use the same rewards, you can't use the same punishments, and you certainly can't use the same underwear.

I've had a crier, I've had a quick learner, I've had stubborn, I've had unwilling. And then I've bribed, cried, yelled, whined and bribed some more.

But for some reason (insanity), I've willingly hopped back on the potty train. I swore up and down, left and right, that I wasn't even going to attempt to potty train O until the spring. But she bribed me by pooping in the potty every day for a week.

So I pulled out the leftover pullups from K (not used, leftover) and put her in them. I explained the basics and left her to it. We went through half a box of pullups in two days.

Did I give up? Did I walk away? No, I bought underwear. She peed in four pairs before I gave up and put her back in pullups.

Why am I being so persistent? Because she fools me into thinking this might be easy. She pees every time I put her on the potty and she still poops in the potty. She also pees in her pullups nearly every time. She just has a lot of pee I guess.

I'm not sure how long before I give up. I always do. Even though the 'experts' say not to put them back in diapers, I've given up nearly every time and reverted back to diapers. You can only clean up so much pee. And you know what? My kids all turned out relatively normal.

So it's day four, O is in pullups, I'm washing all of her new underwear and I'm not insane yet. I'll let you know when I need the straight jacket.

Ten skills every new parent should acquire

2009-10-05T12:38:00.000-07:00

1. One-armed dish washing, vacuuming and cleaning in general. Bid farewell to your other arm as it will soon be permanently attached to a child.

2. The ability to do things with a moving target. Namely, but not limited to, diaper changing, clothing and hair fixing.

3. The ability to be unfazed and unembarrassed by the things your children do in public. This will allow you to smile and hold your head high while being followed through a store by a wailing child.

4. Develop the patience of a saint. I have no recommendations as to how to do this. I'm still working on it. But if I had it, I'm sure my children would be better off.

5. Learn to drive rather large vehicles. Almost every parent will, at some point in time, drive a vehicle larger than they ever intended to drive.

6. Develop selective hearing. For this, you must close yourself in a padded room with a screaming child and see how long you can last. Increase the time each attempt. This is called immersion therapy. It comes highly recommended in order to deaden eardrums before your own screaming child arrives on the scene.

7. Potty train. Start with an animal. I have managed to potty train four and a half children and while I have survived, my recommendation is to avoid it at all costs. Hire someone to do it for you, if necessary.

8. Selective sight. This particular gift comes in handy if you are a less than stellar housekeeper. It allows you to see your house as clean while not recognizing the piles of clutter that surround you, thus allowing you to do such activities as reading and blogging.

9. Learn to develop a strict bedtime and nap time. This is for your survival. Don't ever let them go or you will be doomed. (Doomed to what, I'm unsure, but doomed nonetheless.)

10. Finally, develop a sense of humor. That way, when your newborn poops on you, your toddler draws on walls, or your six year old jumps off a six-foot wall, you have something to keep you from going insane. So laugh, by golly!

I Blink

2009-10-02T17:09:00.000-07:00

I've been a tad apathetic about the holidays this year. I'm not throwing my annual Halloween party because there just isn't time. I really didn't want to decorate for Halloween, and I love Halloween. How did I become such a GROWNUP?

I came home from the gym this morning and L (age 8) had unpacked all of the Halloween boxes and efficiently spread stuff all over the house. I walked in and said, "What in the world?", but quickly stifled myself when I saw the look on her face. It could have been Christmas morning for all I knew. She was thrilled with herself.

So, we decorated for Halloween.

All day I've been asking how I've become the boring adult who doesn't look forward to all the holidays with child-like anticipation. When did this happen?

I think my apathy comes in part from the realization that before I blink, another year will be gone.

I blinked and my baby turned ten.

I blinked and my third child started first grade.

Life is flying past me too quickly. I'm not ready for another set of holidays that will be gone before I blink again.

But as we decorated and the children jabbered at me about what they were going to be for Halloween and how they couldn't wait to go Trick-or-Treating, some of my enthusiasm was renewed. I realize that I have to really enjoy these times because they are so fleeting.

Before I blink, they will be all grown up with children of their own.

Before And After

2009-09-30T07:47:00.000-07:00

I did the impossible. I cleaned out the master closet. I know. I don't know what insanity overcame me, but as is evident by the pictures, it was necessary. I donated three giant bags of clothes from the 1800's. I installed two shelves all by little old self. My dear husband now has a place to hang ties that isn't a hanger. I'm so very proud of myself. I like to go in there and meditate now. It only took me a week and a half.

BEFORE

AFTER

It's not impossible for you either. You just have to be slightly insane first.

If you take a two year old shopping...

2009-09-28T12:41:00.000-07:00

She's going to want some popcorn. But not until she throws a fit about taking her blankie into the store.

Today is definitely a Monday. My day started with the usual chaos of getting the older children off to school. Moments after they left, I realize that two out of three forgot to take their homework folders with them. I should have known at that moment how the rest of the day would go.

The girls and I got ready quickly and headed to the gym. O complained and cried about her shoes all the way there. "Tight", she kept saying. When we arrived, I noticed K's holey jeans and was informed that those are all she has.

Half a mile into my run, I was called down to the daycare and informed that E was poopy and sad. I quickly changed her, handed her back, made some suggestions, then returned to finish my run. While formulating a plan in my head, I finished my run, gathered the girls and a very sad baby and headed home. The plan was as follows:

1.Go to Target
2.Go to Payless
3.Go to the Grocery Store
4.Go to the Bank

I'll admit that it was a touch ambitious. But I had no idea how ambitious until we arrived at Target.

O had been a touch temperamental all morning, but I quickly learned that it was just the tip of the iceberg. Upon arriving, I unloaded E, grabbed my purse, unbuckled O and informed her that her blankie stays in the car. We do this hundreds of times a week, but today, she NEEDED her blankie.

Blankie's don't come with us, no matter how dear they are. I refuse to drag them around stores or any other public places. It's bad enough that they drag them around the house.

So I drag her out of the car and sit her, screaming, on the curb. With E in the sling, I was a little limited in my ability to handle a screaming toddler. I eventually hauled her down to a park bench and sat there while she screamed. I waited and waited and nearly decided to head home until I remembered that Target has popcorn. So I bribed her with popcorn. With a tear streaked face, 'tight' shoes in place, we walked into Target.

I bought the popcorn and the girls immediately began shoving handfuls of popcorn into their mouths as though they were starving and weren't going to see food again for another month. I'm not sure, but Target would probably like to ban us for the amount of popcorn the girls dropped on the floor. I decided to skip Payless and we got shoes at Target instead. Kill two birds with one stone.

By the time we made it out to the van, I realized it was lunch time and I was starving. The girls wanted to go to McDonald's, which was just across the street. I thought after some food in their bodies I'd be able to complete my list.

After we ate, we hurried over to the grocery store. "I just need a few things", I told them.

I rushed them through the store with few incidents, but upon returning to the van, I knew we weren't going to make my last stop. I unbuckled O from the cart and walked her over to the side of the van. She sat down on the pavement and looked at me like 'I just dare you to make me get in the car'. So I let her sit there. I unloaded the baby, I unloaded the groceries, and then I manhandled a screaming limp two-year old into her seat.

We then endured Pterodactyl-like screaming all the way home.

The Pterodactyl is now sleeping. I think the house threw up on itself, but I'm too tired to care. The school-age children get home in an hour and a half. I may have to find a padded room before this Monday is over!

Find them!

2009-09-26T07:30:00.000-07:00

"I don't care if you have to go to the ends of the earth, but find them!" I holler at my son.

There's a phenomenon that happens in our house to clean laundry. It disappears in a puff of smoke. M (age 6), on a weekly basis, can't find his Sunday pants for church. Almost every week he comes to me in shorts and a button up shirt and proclaims that he can't find his Sunday pants.

Today he can't find his soccer shorts. If I hadn't washed three pairs of them on Monday, I might take pity and help him look. But I KNOW there are soccer shorts in his closet.

Socks disappear too. The sock fairy comes in the night and takes them away. And my oldest son who likes to proclaim that he ALWAYS puts them in the dirty laundry, thinks that I did something with all the socks he can't find. I think not, my son.

Of course they might be able to find things if they didn't spread their clothes all over the floor as opposed to putting them in their closet. I know. I come up with some wacky ideas.

"Look until you find them!" I holler up the stairs one more time. "You aren't going to your soccer game until you are dressed appropriately."

He groans at me and proclaims how he has looked EVERYWHERE. Hmmm, I wonder how long it will take him to find his missing shorts. Maybe the soccer shorts fairy ate them in the night, knowing that he has a game this morning. The soccer shorts fairy is mean like that.

Have you ever heard a Pterodactyl scream?

2009-09-23T19:44:00.000-07:00

No? Dinosaurs are extinct you say? I beg to differ. I believe my two year old is a reincarnated Pterodactyl. What proof do I have? The proof is in the pudding, or rather the Pterodactyl scream we all experience when she is unhappy.

This mostly happens in the car when I am completely powerless to appease my little dinosaur. She will decide that it is ridiculously unfair that she has to wear a seat belt and will begin thrashing about. And before you know it she is making sounds that no human could possibly make. And she makes them at decibels that only dogs can hear.

Her endurance is staggering. She kept it up once for twenty-five agonizing minutes. E and I were virtually deaf by the time we got home. Why not discipline or perhaps even bribe her, you ask? Oh, I've tried. I've tried it all.

I've tried distraction.

"O, look! There's a horsey."

Her response is to scream louder.

I've tried bribery.

"O, do you want some candy when we get home?"

This one might make her stop, but then she wants it RIGHT NOW, and well, we've stopped using that particular method.

I've tried ignoring her. She just wants attention, you may suggest. I've ignored her many, many times. She still screams.

I've tried the strict mom voice.

"O, if you don't stop this minute, I'm going to pull the car over."

I've actually pulled over a couple of times to no avail. She settles down, then screams the instant she's back in her car seat.

For the time being, I merely pray. That's all I'm left with. I pray she doesn't scream. I pray that if she does I will survive with eardrums intact. I pray that I won't sell her on the next corner I see. And I pray that if she really is a reincarnated Pterodactyl, that she'll soon forget and stop screaming.

The gym

2009-09-22T06:48:00.000-07:00

I'm a bit of a gym rat. But I don't go regularly for the obvious reason of getting into shape, though that does seem to be a by-product. No, I go for the daycare. I go because it's the one hour a day that I get all to myself. Barring poopy diapers or too much crying, they get to go play in the chaos with all the other children whose mothers or fathers are all too happy to ditch them in the daycare for a brief reprieve.

Now that I've admitted my true purpose in going to the gym, I'll also admit that I don't go pretty. I go ugly. I'm going to go get sweaty and gross, so I don't wear makeup, and my hair is usually in some semblance of a pony tail. I go ugly and so do my children. The other children at the gym are all dressed and groomed. And then there's my children. Hair all messy and usually in the mismatched PJ's they wore to bed.

One day I ran into a neighbor who was arriving as I was leaving. She told me how amazed she was that I got there so early. Her children were neatly groomed. I'm not the type of mother who can do both, I pick one. Early to the gym, or presentable children. Early to the gym wins. My children can be presentable later.

The Epic Saga of the Clean Bathroom

2009-09-20T07:37:00.000-07:00

I cleaned the bathroom on the main floor. It was grotesque. But for five wonderful minutes it was a thing of beauty. Here is it's story:

I am the bathroom and I am clean. My owner finally took pity on me and made me all nice and shiny. I am relaxing and enjoying my new state of being.

Oh no. A little person. Be careful young one. No! Not the soap. I am now watching as soap is being squirted out by the handfuls all over my lovely white counter tops. It's ok, I tell myself. It's just soap. Oh, small child, can't you hang up the towel just once?

I watch the small child exit. I breathe a huge sigh of relief. I can live with a little soap on the countertop.

Two minutes later a slightly bigger child enters. Oh no. What is that I see on your fingers? No, not dirt!! Ok. It will be ok. I watch as child attempts to wash his hands. Oh shoot. Dirt all over the counter and water spalshes on my pristine mirror. Child chucks towel onto the soapy mess and leaves.

I breathe. It's still not as bad as it was. I can still enjoy my cleanliness to a point. I relax again and cross my fingers. But no, mere seconds later the smallest child enters to play with her potty. I do not understand this. My owner seems content to let her fool around, yet not actually potty train this child. Oh, cool, she's leaving.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Oh no. There's a herd of children waiting in line. This is never good. I'm going to hold my breath, close my eyes and assess the damage after they are all done.

The damage: Pee on the floor, bits of toilet paper in the trash and next to the toilet, water soap and dirt all over the counter. The towel resides on the floor now.

I am the bathroom and I was clean...for five minutes.

Hair drama

2009-09-18T07:03:00.000-07:00

There's a raucous upstairs. I hear stomping, crying, yelling and more crying. Yet I sit serenely at the computer ignoring all the noise. Why am I so callous? Because I know that my daughter is merely brushing her hair and I've learned through careful research that no one has ever died from brushing their hair. Although from the sound of it, you'd think that statistic would be changing very soon.

It's a good thing I have a couple of boys. Girls having lots of hair just adds more drama. And girls are very accomplished at adding drama to just about anything. Like getting shoes on. You'd think that's a no brainer. Not in my house. In my house it is apparently a requirement to cry when asked to get shoes on. So you can imagine the trauma that goes into doing the girls hair.

For a while, I got all creative and cute. I would spend time looking for cute hairstyles online and I'd practice on(torture)my girls. It didn't take very long for me to see the disadvantage to that. More crying. It's not worth it. They just get to look like ragamuffins. I'm ok with that and have learned it is not a reflection of my parenting skills. Though I do occasionally envy those moms with the perfect looking children.

So when I finally go upstairs to help Lillie with her hair and I ask what she wants today, she replies through tears, "a ponytail". "Fine", I think. The less time in the bathroom doing hair, the better.

Maybe I could shave all of their heads. Start a new trend. Ok, I'm not that mean, but I can dream can't I?

My second job

2009-09-16T07:05:00.000-07:00

I am quickly learning that my second job is that of taxi driver. I am the mom taxi. I need one of those clever bumper stickers that declares my status as taxi driver. I can spend anywhere from 20 minutes to a couple of hours running children to various sporting practices and events about three to four days a week.

The more driving I do, the more I wish for my extended van with separate bucket seats for each child. That way, no one can touch anyone else. They would have to fashion a poking stick in order to bother their neighbor. As it is, I rarely make it to our destination without witnessing WWF in the rear view mirror. If you are ever driving along and see a mini-van pulled over with children sitting or screaming on the side of the road, it's probably me. You can't have time-out in a van in which your neighbor is easily accessible.

The cleanliness of my vehicle has never been top priority, but this fall with the introduction of three or four children in sports, it's a virtual nightmare in there. I think there's a secret stash of sippies buried in the mess. The milk in them has likely turned to cheese. I'm only guessing at their location, I haven't actually spotted them. I just know they have been disappearing and we are down to about three sippies in the drawer. And no matter how often I tell the children not to take toys in the car, it seems there's at least a toy box worth of toys in the van.

Of course it doesn't help that I pack things in there that I never take out. I like to think of it as being prepared for any possible situation. There's a picnic blanket and a camping chair, just in case. There are almost always extra shoes. There's also a first aid kit that slides back and forth across the floor as I drive. See, it's really preparation, not 'lazy mom who doesn't want to clean out the filthy van'.

And this taxi driver will only listen to 'Mary had a little lamb' once a week. The rest of the time it's Rob Thomas or the radio. If the small people I call my children are going to torture me in the car, then I at least get the satisfaction of listening to Rob Thomas. He makes even a screaming toddler bearable!

I bark at my children

2009-09-15T07:34:00.000-07:00

I know that makes me strange, but it's woefully true. I bark at my children. Sometimes the mood strikes me and I just have to bark. And yes, I mean like a dog. They think it's funny. Or at least they laugh. They probably just think I'm weird. Which I am. But if you can't bark at your children, who can you bark at?

I make other strange noises too. I don't limit myself to barking. I do a pretty darn good horse, but mostly just the galloping part. I think that's why O climbs on me and declares 'horsey' on a regular basis. I squeal at the baby and blow raspberries. I've perfected both of those skills. I can quack like a duck, but I don't waddle. At least not right now. A few months ago, I was most likely waddling.

I realize that I must sound like some kind of Old MacDonald freak, but I'm ok with that.

I spent my teenage years trying to be 'oh so serious'. Sure, I had friends that I let loose with, but I was always worried that people would think I was weird. Well, now that I'm all grown up, I could care less. I am weird! Other people don't have to live with me. And those that do? Well, they get what they get and they don't get to throw a fit. (Thank you preschool teachers for that lovely saying!) And if they throw a fit? Time out for you!

And now you know the truth about me: I bark at my children and I'm proud of it!

A toddler obsessed

2009-09-13T07:45:00.000-07:00

"Penny pockey", I hear O yell for the one millionth time. O has an obsession. She loves pennies. She holds them all day and wants them in either her pockets or mine. But she can't say pocket, so it comes out pockey.

If she finds one on the floor, it's like discovering gold. She squeals with delight, jumps up and down and grins from ear to ear. And it doesn't matter what size, or nationality the coin is, they are all pennies to her. She doesn't discriminate.

From time to time, she puts them in her mouth. But with many stern warnings that they will be taken away, she's gotten better. She no longer brings them to me in her mouth to spit out.(See this post.)

She insists on wearing pants with 'pockeys' so that she has somewhere to store her many pennies. And if there aren't any clean pocket pants, I had better be equipped with 'pockeys' or there will be hell to pay!

Because of this new obsession, there are pennies littering the floor of my home. She's emptied the coin jar on my desk and throws gargantuan fits if you happen upon a penny and don't immediately return it to her. It doesn't matter if it's not her penny. They are ALL hers. I have a toddler obsessed. Obsessed with pennies.

I swore I'd never...

2009-09-09T17:35:00.000-07:00

I swore I'd never get married young like my mom. So, I got married at 20 1/2 instead of 19.

I swore I'd never be a stay-at-home mom. It looked so boring. I've been a stay-at-home mom for ten years and I'm not sure where the time went.

I swore I'd never drive a minivan. I wanted to be a cool mom and drive an SUV. We bought our first minivan when I was 25.

I swore I'd never have more than four kids. We have six.

I swore I'd never count at my children. We count to three on a regular basis.

I swore I'd never yell at my children. I wish I could say that I don't. But I do.

I swore I'd never be a mean mom and make my kids wash dishes. They have a dish chore every night after dinner.

I swore I'd never use the television as a babysitter. A little TV never killed anyone, right?

I swore I'd never be a runner. I ran three miles yesterday and am seriously contemplating running a half-marathon in the spring.

I swore I'd never give birth without an epidural. I've done it twice. By choice.

The moral of the story? Never say never.

Contents atop the dryer

2009-09-08T09:00:00.000-07:00

Today is laundry day. Ok, every day is laundry day. But today I start the week o'laundry. As I loaded in the first load of laundry this morning, I found myself staring at the contents atop the dryer. I was fascinated by what I found, yet utterly unwilling to clean it off.

Here is what I found:

1. A giant flashlight with no battery.
2. The spray and wash
3. Contact solution
4. Conditioner
5. A screwdriver
6. Ink pads for the stamps I rarely use
7. 1 diaper
8. 3 pairs of baby legs
9. A notepad for making to-do lists (a little irony here)
10. Another flashlight
11. A cereal bowl used for collecting all the change I find in the washer (I made a dollar last week!)
12. Odessa's skirt
13. Doll clothes
14. A plastic yellow spider
15. A green sticky hand
16. Rose and flower care
17. Sunscreen
18. Silver acrylic spray paint
19. A Magic Treehouse book
20. Michael's white church shirt
21. A nightlight with accompanying bulbs
22. A giant ziploc baggie with wetwipes in it
23. A white wide-brimmed hat
24. A water bottle

What's atop your dryer today?

Ten things that scream "We have children!"

2009-09-04T14:42:00.000-07:00

If you didn't know me and you came to my house and wandered through it, you'd say to yourself, 'children live here'. Here's ten reasons why.

1.The bottom pole on the banister has been taped together with scotchtape. And retaped. And retaped.

2.In the bathroom there is a little potty next to the big potty. And soap all over the counter. And bandaid garbage on the floor.

3.The fort that has taken up residence in my front formal room.

4.Baby paraphernalia is a dead give-away. The swing, bouncer, bumbo, floor mat. Babies take up a lot of space!

5.Socks and shoes of all sizes scattered hither and yon.

6.The kitchen table that has a princess coloring book cover permanently adhered to it.

7.The toddler hiding in the pantry snitching chips. Ok, so if we weren't home, she wouldn't be either!

8.Crumbs, crumbs and more crumbs.

9.Sticky or dirty doorknobs.

10.Toys everywhere. They multiply in the night I tell you.

Laundry

2009-09-03T12:05:00.000-07:00

Laundry will be the death of me. I'm certain of it. I can wash it. I can dry it. But for some reason, folding it and putting it away eludes me. It does happen, but it takes a near act of God, or hosting playgroup. That will do it too.

Folding laundry is often a family event and this is how this week's event went:

I sat down on the floor and put the baby on her blanket next to me. The kids each found a spot on the floor and I started chucking their laundry at them. (It's more fun if you throw it at them and attempt to make it land on their heads.) We then endured a few rounds of children chanting, "(Name)likes to wear, dirty underwear." There were variations and much protesting by the person named that they do NOT like to wear dirty underwear. Then there was O declaring loudly when she found an item of clothing that was hers. There was gnashing and whaling of teeth by K when I informed her she had to put her clothes away.

At one point I stopped and looked up and realized all six of my children were joyously, rambunctiously and loudly enjoying the weekly laundry folding. I think it could best be described as organized chaos. The boys were throwing a pair of shorts back and forth, each declaring that they didn't own them. L was on her head, as usual, and E was intrigued by all the noise.

I have to say that for about five minutes, I didn't mind folding laundry. But don't worry, I got over it quickly and am officially back to not liking it again. Blasted laundry!!

The Sunflower

2009-08-28T06:54:00.000-07:00

For obvious reasons, I haven't been much into yardwork this year. In previous years, I would spend several hours a week weeding, mowing and doing general maintenance to keep the yard looking good. This year, I've barely managed minimal weed pulling. As a result, we've been somewhat overrun with weeds. I've kept up better in the front yard than the back, but it still isn't great.

This spring, right after I had E, I was out in the yard and I noticed a plant in my front flower bed. I had no idea what it was, but it didn't look like the weeds I usually pull. I knew I hadn't planted it, but for some reason I decided to leave it and see what it would become. Over the months, it got taller and taller, never revealing what it would be, but still I let it grow.

One morning, as I walked out my front door, I looked over to my flower bed and to my surprise found a beautiful Sunflower plant. I'm not sure what kept me from pulling it for all those months, but now I'm very glad I didn't. It's beautiful and happy and there's nothing better than a beautiful happy flower in your yard.

My unexpected Sunflower has been a source of contemplation for me this week. We've had some rough mornings getting children off to school. I've also been dealing with sleep deprivation as a result of a baby who is no longer sleeping well at night. I've been a tad frustrated with the 'weeds' of my life and I've spent too much energy trying to pull them and make my life perfect. It's been an exhausting week. But I realized yesterday that all my 'weeds' may not be weeds at all, but beautiful Sunflowers.

When O fed her dolly chips yesterday and then smushed them into the carpet, I was able to enjoy the moment and laugh at her creativity. When K surrounded E with every stuffed animal she could find, I was able to look at how beautiful my girls were instead of insist that she put things away to keep the house clean. I've been able to refocus my efforts on things that are more important in the long run, reminding myself once again that the children will not grow up and remember how clean the house was, but rather that they were loved.

I'm grateful for my unexpected Sunflower and the lesson it has taught me. I seem to need constant reminders that there are more important things than perfectly dressed children and a perfectly organized home. Laughter and love are by far the most important thing. Thank you, my beautiful Sunflower and my wonderful Father in Heaven for providing it.

A day trip

2009-08-25T11:21:00.000-07:00

Dad was gone last week and that is always a hardship. I've always said it's a good thing there's two of us, because one of us just isn't enough. By the time Sunday rolled around, I knew we needed to get out of the house to preserve our sanity. Although being in the car is also a test of sanity!

We drove up the Alpine Loop and went to Cascade Springs. It was a perfect day. It had rained in the morning, so it was cooler than usual. The children loved running along the paths and even spotted a snake as we walked.

A was overjoyed at having to sit in such close proximity to L.

A took this picture. I thought it was awfully artistic, and such a beautiful view!

O wouldn't hold anyone's hand but A's. It was sweet to watch him with her.

By the time we headed back to the car, the clouds had cleared a bit and it had heated up. The kids were all whining about how hot it was. One gentleman on the path asked where the kids were headed in such a hurry. When I responded that they wanted to get in the air-conditioned car, he asked where we were from. Sadly, we are close to home, I just have wimpy children.

Thoughts and junk and stuff

2009-08-23T08:25:00.000-07:00

I have been unable to put my thoughts into any kind of cohesive form this week. Thus the lack of blog posts. I have so many thoughts that I can't seem to organize them. This is not a problem I have very often, having children does that to you.

So here's my attempt at organizing my thoughts.

My little sister had her twin boys this week. They were early and are in the NICU. But they are amazing. Amazing little miracles. And there's two of them! For some reason, that alone is absolutely amazing. And I get to be their aunt. I'm so excited to watch them grow.

It seems that no matter how many children I have, or how many children I've seen others have, I am still in awe at the miracle of life. I once watched a documentary on the whole process and determined that it's a miracle any of us reproduce. The odds just aren't in our favor. God definitely has a hand in it.

And the miracle of technology is absolutely stunning. There are so many preemies that would never have survived a hundred years ago. But today, they not only survive, they thrive.

But then my thoughts turn to a conversation I had with a friend this week about how hard it all is. And it IS hard. No matter how awe-inspiring these little miracles are, the reality is that raising children is a challenge. It's a challenge no one can prepare you for. It's a challenge without a guide book. And sometimes, it's completely overwhelming. Anyone who tells you otherwise is full of it.

I've found that no matter how much you love your children, or are impressed and amazed by the things they do, you still have days that you want to sell them on the street corner to anyone willing to take over. They can be infuriating. The key is to not beat yourself up over the fact that you aren't a perfect parent and realize it's ok to be all done sometimes. And mothers, we all need to stop comparing ourselves to everyone else.(I'm as big an offender of this as the next mom.) We are all different. Thank heavens!

So those are some of the thoughts that have been floating around my little brain. I hope they make sense somehow.

Notes to self

2009-08-17T20:19:00.001-07:00

1.Do not let child open soup can retardedly on first day of school, slicing pinkie open and requiring three stitches. Not cool. (The child in question was Andrew.)

2.Pepsi and Rob Thomas make most things better. At least temporarily.

3.Learn to have sympathy for child who uses pretend money wrong and buys wrong thing on dumb game.

4.Feed the baby.

5.When the ten year old ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

6.When you fix the radio in your van you are aloud to holler loudly, "Who's your Daddy?". It's your God-given right.

7.Paying bills allows you to treat yourself to artery clogging fast-food for lunch.

8.Children claiming new socks are not theirs may require commitment to mental facility. Resort to note number 2 first.

9.Children will go to school naked if you don't do the laundry.

10.Prepare better for next year's writing marathon on the first day of school. All those papers take a good hour or two to fill out. Start practicing now. Oh wait, you already did that today.

11.Don't look at your desk. You'll just be blinded by the mess. And if you clean it off, it will merely re-accumulate. It's like making your bed. What's the point, you will just get back in it in a few hours.

12.When on the phone making important phone call, ply two year old with any and all junk food she wants. You can deal with the tantrum later as long as she shuts-up for the time being. She's not a stupid two-year old. I'll give her that.

And thus concludes lessons learned today. Refer to notes often so as to not repeat any of the mistakes made today. The end.

I don't wanna grow up

2009-08-14T08:24:00.000-07:00

After a week of fighting, tears and utter chaos, I am officially ready for the children to return to school. I am not one of those parents who could successfully homeschool my children. I'd need a padded room.

It seems that sometimes being in charge is just hard. It's hard to be the mature one when you are surrounded by immaturity. I have found myself arguing with my children this week. What's up with that? Last I checked, they don't get a choice. This is not a democracy.

Despite my complaints and occasional days of feeling totally overwhelmed and stressed-out, I really do enjoy parenting. My children are bright and innovative. Even if that innovation leads to such shenanigans as tying a used diaper to a string and dropping it over the banister on unsuspecting passers-by. Children are, for the most part, happy-go-lucky people with never-ending optimism, and mine teach me how to enjoy the moment on a regular basis.

I especially love toddlers. O is really starting to communicate and I love to hear what she's thinking. She tells me when things are loud and she is so curious. Oh, is she curious! She discovered how to stop up the sink this week. That was messy. But isn't she funny!?!

So I guess I don't wanna grow up, but I want all the perks of being grown up. I'm guessing there's not a way to do that. So I'll just have to struggle through like the rest of humanity and cherish the moments when my toddler wears goggles!

Practical Jokers

2009-08-11T13:42:00.001-07:00

Sundays are crazy days. Getting six kids and one husband out the door in time for church is often a marathon event which requires great planning and more patience than I have sometimes. This last Sunday was no different. However, my boys thought they were funny and played a bunch of practical jokes.

The first I came across was as I was doing O's hair. She was sitting on the counter wiggling and squirming all over and decided she needed a drink. So she turned on the faucet and leaned over to help herself. Next thing I know, I'm getting sprayed with water. Someone had put tape over the faucet. Nice. Dad giggled and informed me the boys were up to no good.

A couple of minutes later I hear L hollering that she couldn't open the refrigerator because the boys had taped it closed. I'm not sure how she resolved the problem, but she was upstairs a few moments later.

I went downstairs to fix myself a piece of toast before church. I opened the silverware drawer only to discover not a single piece of silverware. So I checked the dishwasher. Nope. Nothing. So I hollered up to the boys, I just knew it had to be them, and told them to put the silverware back. A few minutes later, M enters the kitchen with silverware stuffed in his pockets and more in his shirt. I found out later that they hid all the silverware so no one could cut the tape off of all the various items they taped. Nice.

We somehow managed to get out the door, but the boys and L wanted to walk to church. The rest of us drove, but as the meeting was about to start, I sent Dad to make sure they were still coming. A walked in moments later with a ring indent on his forehead. He had sucked a toy to his head for the entire walk. Nice.

After church, which included much giggling, I sat down on my computer to surf the net only to discover tape over half the keys on my keyboard. Nice. No wonder we never have any tape in the house!

My husband says it will only get worse. I'm afraid. Very afraid.

My little entrepreneurs

2009-08-06T07:20:00.000-07:00

Oh to be a child again. My kids have been bugging me all summer about doing a lemonade stand. I kept putting them off because I didn't have any lemonade, but then I'd forget to buy any at the store. So this week, they resorted to attempting to sell pictures they had colored. I decided to have mercy on them and suggested an Icee stand. I think they may have hit the jackpot. They were able to make $15 in about three hours.

Of course now they think they should have an Icee stand EVERY day!!

The Great Blowout and Ice Cream Adventures

2009-08-03T13:19:00.000-07:00

The Great Blowout

I went to the grocery store with as few children as humanly possible today. For me, that number is two. O and E were the lucky children too young to stay home.

Upon arrival O insisted on getting one of those lovely carts with the car on the front. At conception, I'm sure these carcarts seemed like the solution to mothers taking young children shopping. What the inventors didn't seem to take into consideration was the tantrum that would ensue if Mom didn't want to use that cart and how terrible they are to push.

On this day, this mom decided it wasn't a battle worth fighting and agreed to push the blasted car-cart. O happily got in and proceeded to buckle herself in, thus requiring me to unbuckle her several dozen times.

I thought our trip was going fairly smoothly until I received a call from home. The kids were fighting. Big shocker. After a discussion which I'm sure I shared with most of the other shoppers (so sorry) I was able to convince the children not to hurt one another and to watch TV. O was behaving herself quite well, however it was necessary to remind her to keep all apendages inside the car.

And then, it happened. E, who had been happily sucking her fists in the sling, made the face. You know, the poop face. And then I heard it. Within seconds, I began to feel warmth against my tummy where she sat in her sling and I knew it wasn't good. I peeked into the sling and saw the spot darkening on the back of her sleeper. I looked at the cart and realized I had left the diaper bag in the car. I made the decision that I would hurry and finish shopping and change her in the car. It was a decision I would regret. As I continued to hurry through my list, I felt more and more moisture, which spurred me on to finish shopping in record time. As I stood in the checkout line, I ventured a peek. It was bad. It had not only soaked through her sleeper, but also through the sling and I had poo on my shirt.

When we got out to the car, I quickly undressed her, thankful she wasn't in a onesie, and attempted to spit bath her with wet wipes. She was virtually unfazed by all this and kept sucking happily on her fists. At one point, I was holding a naked baby in the grocery store parking lot, looking frantically for something clean to lay her on. Needless to say, she had completely mucked up the changing pad I used and I couldn't lay her back on it to put a clean diaper on her. She rode home in a diaper and I changed my clothes as soon as we walked in the door. I will forever remember that trip to the store as The Great Blowout of 2009!

Ice Cream Adventures

We were at my Sister-in-law's over the weekend for a family gathering. We had a fabulous lunch followed by ice cream. I didn't give O ice cream. I knew she'd make a mess.

Well, she found someone else's ice cream and went to town.

When I got to her, she had ice cream all over her face, on her legs, in her hair and all over her hands and arms. I think she bathed in it. I took off her dress, content to let her continue playing, until I looked out and saw she'd taken off her diaper. So then I had a naked toddler covered in ice cream. She too got to ride home in only a diaper. This is what I get for NOT giving her ice cream!!

This and that

2009-07-30T10:31:00.000-07:00

I have been negligent in my duties as a mother! Miss Odessa turned two last week and I didn't blog about it! She comes fully equipped with temper tantrums, and EVERYTHING that EVER existed is hers. Truly. She's a handful, and I can't believe she's already two. Happy Belated Birthday, my little one!

This morning we had the opportunity to attend the Oquirrh Mountain Temple open house. It was a beautiful way to start the day and was a wonderful and memorable experience for all of us. Here's a rare picture of the whole family! (Yay for running into neighbors!)

For more information on our beliefs, please visit mormon.org.

Lost in translation

2009-07-27T13:09:00.000-07:00

Foreign languages were never my thing. I suffered through two years of Spanish in Junior High and a semester of Spanish in college. I can understand Dora the explorer. My High school German teacher suffered through three years of me and I can successfully say my name in German. Oh, wait, I think that's still in English.

Much to my surprise, since becoming a mother I've learned a new language. It seems I speak the foreign language of MOM. Momspeak is a language that all children misinterpret and/or don't hear. And thus, many things get lost in translation. Here are a few from our house.

Momspeak: Get your shoes on, we have to go get your sister.
Child's translation: Don't wear shoes, mom is just kidding.
Result: Ten-year old child goes to Walmart without shoes.

Momspeak: Go do your Saturday chores.
Child's translation: Play with toys in your room, fight with siblings.
Result: A very unhappy parent who ends up repeating the original phrase ad naseum.

Momspeak: Go play downstairs or outside.
Child's translation: Beat the snot out of all siblings.
Result: Chores

Momspeak: Go to the bathroom and get in the car.
Child's translation: Dink around, eventually locate a shoe, whine about going to the bathroom or just don't go, wait until the vein in Mom's forehead bulges before going to the car.
Result: Much yelling from mom, all of which are repeatedly misinterpreted by the children. Mom should just stop talking.

Momspeak: Get off the computer.
Child's translation: Finish game, even if it takes ten more minutes.
Result: Getting banned from computer if the child takes too long to translate the following phrase, "GET OFF THE BLASTED COMPUTER...NOW!!!" That wasn't too hard, was it?

I seem to have perfected Momspeak, now if the children would just perfect the translation of said foreign language, we could all live together in peace. It feels a little Tower of Babelish at my house. I try not to get frustrated at the continuous misinterpretation of the things I say. Heaven knows my German teacher repeated the same phrases at us for three years and we never did understand her. But it seems that my children, much like their mother, aren't very gifted in the foreign language department. Such is life!

My new mailbox

2009-07-22T21:11:00.000-07:00

I have a new mailbox. There are no bills and no junk mail. And I must admit that I actually enjoy checking it.

A few days ago as I was trying to figure out what to do with the pile of notes and pictures the kids had given me, they informed me that I needed a box to keep them in. So I now have a creatively decorated diaper box by the side of my bed that I have been instructed to keep all of their notes in. And every night when I go to bed, I have a pile of notes from my children. They are usually the same as the day before, but how can I not love it!

Lillie likes to tell me in her notes that she loves me because I make her dinner. Andrew is usually asking a question, like whether or not they can make cookies. Michael likes to tell me that I am the best Mom and Katherine has learned to write 'MOM' and that's enough for me!!

Then today, Andrew decided they should each have their own mailboxes. There's now a collection of little mailboxes for each of the children in the hallway and they have spent the day filling each other's boxes. I've taken my turn as well and written each a note and let them know all the reasons I love them too.

And I must say that when they aren't beating the snot out of each other, they are just about the best kids a mom could ask for! And oh so sweet! My nightly notes make all the trials of the day just melt away. I wish adults would learn more from kids and spend more time doing things for others and writing more love notes. Wouldn't the world be a better place?

Ahhh, Summer.

2009-07-19T07:03:00.000-07:00

I love summer. I love the freedom. I love the spontaneity I feel in the summer. I love not having a schedule to stick to. With the exception of a few moments, this week was fabulous and freeing. The kids and I went swimming every day, just because we could.

One afternoon, I bought ice blocks and we went to the park and slid down the hill.

Katherine got frustrated quickly and ended up mostly playing on the playground. But the older kids had a great time! And Odessa kept begging someone to take her down. We had to try to convince her not to suck on the ice block though. Ew.

One evening, Emily had had too much and wiggled herself in a circle until she conked out. I'm sorry to all you other mothers out there, but she's just the cutest thing ever!

But my favorite day by far was Friday. We went with some neighbors to the lake and had a blast. The kids played in the mud to their hearts content, they rode on boats and went kneeboarding (I wish I'd gotten pictures of that!). I got to drive a jet ski and Katherine even drove the boat. I kid you not! We were all a little green upon returning to land. She drove like a four year old, funny thing!

Miss Emily was quite cooperative and slept in her bouncy seat in the shade during a lot of the day. The water was refreshing and nobody got sunburned. And although the spray kind of sunscreen is expensive, it beats having to sunscreen that many kids with the rub-in kind! This week will likely be lack luster in comparison and the kids have several weeks left of summer vacation during which they will experience boredom. But all in all, I love it!

The Tooth Fairy

2009-07-14T07:40:00.000-07:00

Michael: Mom, the tooth fairy forgot to take my tooth.

Me: Shoot. (Pause) Do you know who the tooth fairy is?

Michael: Yeah, it's you.

Me: So would it be ok if I just traded you money for the tooth.

Michael: Sure! I'll go get my tooth.

So I gave the kid 50 cents for his tooth. Of all my parental responsibilities, being the tooth fairy is not one I do well. I almost always forget and have come up with some creative excuses for the tooth fairy's lateness. But this time I decided honesty was much easier.

I'm not a very good Easter bunny either. They usually get some candy and a small toy. But there's no extravagant egg hunt or nice gifts. And this year I actually let them color eggs, but that is also a rare occurrence.

I'm a decent Santa and a great leprechaun. But for some reason the tooth fairy role evades me. I think it's because it requires thought late at night. My brain goes to bed at 9 even though my body doesn't join it till 11. Maybe the kids will grow up and be fabulous tooth fairies because their mother scarred them by being a terrible one!

Yellowstone

2009-07-11T07:18:00.001-07:00

We had a fabulous trip to Yellowstone and I even survived packing. Though the verdict is still out on the unpacking. How is it that being gone for four days can create such havoc?

We began our trip by stopping at a restaurant called Big Jud's. We then proceeded to share 10 of the biggest hamburgers I have ever seen in my life. I kid you not! There were 15 adults and a gazillion kids and we couldn't finish those burgers. Each one was as big as a pie! One in our group ate and entire burger and that resulted in having his picture put up on the wall of shame. It was a fun meal which ended in a bunch of kids making a huge mess with giant ice cream cones. I don't think they know how to do things small at Big Jud's!

We then stopped at Wilford and got to hear some wonderful stories about some ancestors. The kids enjoyed this and it was great fun.

Our first day in Yellowstone we spent on the northern loop. Before we got out at the first stop, Michael informed us that he bet he could find a great big stick. I think he was successful. What do you think?

There were a bunch of Bison in the background and the kids were so excited. I think they wanted to pet them, but were deterred by the signs that said the Bison would gore you if you got too close. There was much stopping of traffic to view these big guys. They liked to wander right next to the road. I suppose I wouldn't be afraid of cars either if I was as big as they are!

We hit all the main attractions and wore everybody out. By the end of the day I was bribing the kids with gummy bears if they'd get in the car again and get seatbelts on. It worked well, but by the end of the trip, Odessa didn't know how to get in her seat without saying, "Bear, bear" repeatedly. Such a helper!

She loved running and wiggling all over the walkways as we saw the different places. She's so stinkin' cute, if I do say so myself!

Mammoth Hot Springs

Sadly, we were unable to escape illness during our trip and Lillie ended up with the stomache flu that we have been plagued with. Dad was a trooper and stayed home with Lillie the second day and let me go play with the kids. Apparently they had a wonderful Daddy-daughter day, so it wasn't a total loss. However, we still had some issues on the way home. Poor girl!

We spent our second day in the park on the southern loop and of course we made it to Old Faithful. It was a wonderful day and a great trip to Yellowstone! I definitely appreciated the beauty of the park much more as an adult, although I have many fond memories of going there as a child. I'm so glad we got the opportunity to go!

Happy Fourth of July!

2009-07-05T07:51:00.001-07:00

I got all six kids to sit still for 1.2 seconds. Everyone but the baby was sporting their holiday attire which included T-shirts and hair bobs for the girls and hats for the boys. (I had a moment of creativity and actually made the girls' hair thingies. Go me!)

We swam and had hot dogs and hamburgers and the kids ran around torturing Grandma's house. It was great fun. Then, when it finally got dark, we broke out the fireworks.

Odessa was less than thrilled with the fireworks and spent her time clinging to me for dear life. Towards the end of our pyrotechnics show, put on by my pyro hubby, I had the baby in my lap, Odessa clinging to my back and Katherine huddled up next to me. Grandma came and saved the day, and Odessa promptly fell asleep in her lap. Katherine watched the fireworks with me, but was concerned the noise was bothering the baby. So she sat there with her hands over Emily's ears. She loves her sister so much! Now if I can just get her and Odessa to stop beating the snot out of one another we'll be good to go!

We then had a drive home and I determined that the day was a success! How could I tell? Maybe by the exhausted children asleep in the car!!

Quiet down cobwebs

2009-07-02T07:04:00.000-07:00

It's 4 a.m. and I'm laying on the floor in the nursery watching Emily coo and smile and wiggle and squirm. I'm so tired, but I can't help smiling at my happy little baby. Even at 4 in the morning. I keep telling her that it's time to go back to sleep, but she's oblivious to the time and to my exhaustion. She is merely happy and talking to the angels.

After Katherine was born, I went through a time when I was so sleep deprived that I would wake up standing in the hallway, confused and certain that someone was up and needing me. I would stand there listening, and ultimately go back to bed not having heard a thing. I got to the point where I hated the middle of the night wakings and feedings. I was cranky and unhappy and it made for unhappy babies in the night. I even understood how a parent could shake a baby. How awful.

I needed a change of heart, a change of attitude.

Before Odessa was born, as I was decorating the nursery, I decided to put part of a poem I'd seen before on the wall. The portion of the poem on my wall reads, "So quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep. I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep." I put it up there so that I would have a constant reminder of what is really important, especially during those times that I want to be doing other things, like sleeping.

I made up my mind before she was born that I would learn to enjoy the middle of the night feedings. I would have a good attitude and be happy to see her. I was determined to have a better experience.

And I did. Though there were still many nights I looked to my wall for a reminder, it was better. And Odessa and I shared a few wonderful middle-of-the-night moments, just the two of us, that I will never forget.

So as I lay there on the floor last night, watching Emily wiggle and squirm, I looked up to my wall and remembered that babies don't keep. They grow so quickly. And even though I'm very tired this morning, I quite enjoyed our conversation at 4 in the morning, which included many priceless smiles.

Here's the poem in it's entirety.

"Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth, Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep."

by Ruth Hamilton

How to transport sleeping baby into crib

2009-06-27T07:46:00.000-07:00

Today, we will address the skill of transporting your sleeping child into his/her crib. There are many possible ways of accomplishing this feat, but we will only discuss a few.

Method #1

After spending what feels like hours getting your infant to sleep, carefully and gently as possible, tiptoe into baby's room. Adjust your hands so that they can carefully maneuver baby off your chest and into the crib, jiggling him/her as little as possible. Set the infant down then place your hand on him/her and start to pray. If he/she begins to wiggle, start chanting 'no, no, no' and pray harder. Then, when baby's eyes pop wide open, pick baby up and start over. You may eventually be able to set baby down without the eyes popping open, but it will probably take a while.

Method #2

This method is called the 'let baby sleep wherever baby is asleep', method. I use this on occasion and out of desperation. I am not a parent who sleeps with my children, but sometimes the situation warrants it. And so if baby is asleep and I'm afraid to move, baby may get the rare opportunity to sleep with me. I've also let baby sleep in the swing, the carseat and the floor. All with monitoring, of course. But sleep is sacred and I'll take it however I can get it!!

Method #3

Levitation. This method needs to be mastered by someone and then passed on to all sleep deprived parents, because it really is the only way not to wake a baby upon placing him/her in bed. I'm just sure of it.

Good luck to all parents attempting any of these methods. And if you perfect levitation, please let me know!

Hodge podge

2009-06-24T07:21:00.000-07:00

Due to illness, I haven't posted for almost a week, and so I'm just going to include all my posts in one. How handy is that?

The first matter of business is simply a question. At what point does a child understand the concept of sticking one's head over a bucket or toilet when ill? I thought four and a half was old enough. Apparently not. I'll leave it at that.

Saturday, Andrew and Lillie performed in their first ever piano recital. We've worked hard and it was great to see them play! Since I teach just my own children and don't have any other students right now, we joined with two other teachers in the neighborhood who only have a couple of students and had a joint recital. It brought back a lot of memories from my childhood!

Andrew:

Lillie:

Then, Dad worked on a few 'honey do's', which turned out to be the highlight of the day. He fixed the lawnmower, which was getting necessary as the lawn was a little embarrassing. And then he went to see if he could figure out why we had a leak in the master shower. (Please refer to my list of broken things over the last couple of months!)

When Dad informed Andrew to go get a hammer so he could bang a hole in the wall, the excitement was evident. And so, the kids took turns using this:

To make these:

It's so funny what makes a child's day! Everyone had to have a turn. Sadly, we haven't figured out what was leaking, but I am now sporting one large hole along with the two small holes in the picture, in my bathroom. They are lovely additions, if I do say so myself!

And life goes on...hopefully sickness free in the near future. I have officially Lysoled all the doorknobs, lightswiches and rooms. And now I cross my fingers and pray no one else gets sick!

A successful day!!

2009-06-18T09:28:00.000-07:00

Andrew's birthday was lots of fun, thanks to all of his ideas! Here are a few pictures from our eventful day!!

The toilet paper contest

The streamer maze!

PRESENTS!!

And last, but not least, ice cream sundaes!!

And just for good measure!

A decade old!

2009-06-16T13:08:00.000-07:00

Michael: "Hey, Andrew. You're a decade old!"

Ten years ago today, my first child was born. He was born in the middle of the night and kindly held off so that his grandparents could make the trek from Wyoming and still make it with time to spare. What a thoughful child! I was in labor for about fourteen hours. Andrew weighed in at a whopping 9lbs 5oz. and was 21 1/2 inches long. He arrived exactly two weeks before his due date and I spent my days in the hospital trying to convince the staff that I wasn't lying about that because he was so big!

Andrew is a great kid. He loves football and he loves to read. He is so stinkin' smart, and I'm not just saying that!! Although I am just a teeny bit biased! I checked him out of school early today and he came walking out with a red smiley face sticker stuck to the middle of his forehead! He can be so much fun. And when he smiles, it just melts my heart.

A few days ago, I asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday and he gave me a paper that contained the following information:

0. Present before school
1. Get home from school 3:30
2. Movie theatre 4:00
3. Eat upstairs 6:00
3. or the Mayan
4. Go in the attic 7:00 (He's been bugging me about this for a while. I keep telling him there's nothing up there but insulation. I may have to let him go, just so he'll quit bugging me!)
5. Toilet paper contest 7:30 (Apparently, this consists of wrapping oneself in toilet paper and trying to move.)
6. Streamer maze 8:00
7. Get to end of maze and eat Ice cream sundaes 8:15
8. PRESENTS 8:30
9. Sleep outside!! Start 9:00

He has a very specific idea of how this day should go and it just makes me laugh! So we'll probably do most of it! Why not? I'll take pictures of the events and post those later! Happy decade, my son!!

Confessions of a grownup

2009-06-15T06:28:00.000-07:00

Hi. My name is Stacey. I'm 32 and I'm a grownup. I have six kids, two cats and a turtle, a husband and a mortgage. I'm supposed to know the answers to everything from where everyone put their stuff to why cows are named cows. On the road to being a grownup, someone forgot to tell me that I was supposed to know everything too.

The funny thing about being a grownup is that it looks like more fun than it really is. When I was a kid, I thought it would be the BEST! I would get to stay up as late as I wanted and nobody could tell me what to do. Now that I'm a grownup, I wish I could go to bed at 9 instead of wrangling the baby till midnight and sometimes, I really wish someone would just tell me what to do so I don't have to figure it out. Life is full of irony.

I'm not sure I really want to be a kid again, but some days, I'm jealous of the freedom of childhood. The ability to disappear outside for hours playing games and doing nothing. Having nothing to worry about except whether or not you'll get in trouble because you forgot to do your chore. There is magic to childhood.

I don't like to do laundry or pay bills. I hate mowing the lawn. (At least I've retained something from my childhood. Only now, I can't use my hayfever to get out of it.) I don't like cleaning and I don't make my bed. I'm not terribly organized and there's so many things I don't know. In fact, I think I know less the older I get. I still love to read, but have to neglect children in order to do it. I stay up too late and am tired too much. I don't really know what I'm doing in raising children, and I hope they aren't horrified when they figure that out.

Grownups are really just children in big bodies.

Lately, I've been happily willing to give up my status as a grownup. Someone else can take my job for a while. I'm ready for a month in Hawaii with no responsibility. Too bad that's not how life works. Now if THAT is what being a grownup was all about, I'd be all for it! Unfortunately, being a grownup dictates that you have to do such things as pay bills and be responsible and crap. No hiatus to Hawaii. Bummer.

But to end on a positive note, there are some really cool things about all the responsibility of being a grownup. Like watching your kids learn to do amazing things. Or continuing to grow up with your spouse. Or discovering hobbies you never thought you'd have.(For me that's been gardening. Who knew?) Or snuggling that baby that FINALLY fell asleep!

Now if I could just figure out how to only have all the good parts of being a grownup and leave behind all the boring crappy parts!

When it rains...

2009-06-11T06:54:00.000-07:00

it pours and pours and rains and hails. Our weather here lately has been indicative of life at our house. It seems since the birth of our youngest child that life has spiraled out of control. Maybe this is the universe telling us that six children is enough and Emily should remain the caboose for good!!

Since Emily's birth, the following things have broken:
1. The lawnmower
2. The master shower leaks
3. The dryer
4. The hot tub
5. The garage door (that was actually broken before but continues to aggrivate me)
6. The van (though technically broken before her birth, not discovered until after)

The following children have injured themselves:

1. Michael (jumped off wall and injured foot)
2. Lillie (stepped on rusty nail)
3. Katherine (bashed head into banister requiring four stitches)

Emily will be six weeks old on Saturday, and I'm thinking that's an awful lot to have happen in six weeks. Especially if you add a newborn to the mix. When people ask how we are adjusting, I smile and say we are surviving. Because we are. We may be barely hanging on while the world crumbles around us, but we are surviving! I'm just hoping that the rain stops soon...

How to survive a day trip:

2009-06-07T07:44:00.000-07:00

The following are instructions for anyone insane enough to take six small children to an air show, let alone out in public.

1. Make sure all children are squished on the ride so that eye gouging, hitting, and kicking are easily facilitated.

2. Turn on radio to attempt to drown out the noise, only to discover that the louder the radio, the louder the children.

3. When you realize that the bus ride from the parking lot to the air show is the most exciting part for the almost two year old, you should probably save yourself some trouble and just go home.

4. Continue to tell the oldest children that they are NOT allowed to sit in the stroller or hang onto it.

5. Attempt to keep children from shoving each other over, walking on the backs of each others shoes and force them to share their shaved ice. Parents are SOOOO mean!

6. Stand in really long lines to see cool planes, but make sure all children are as miserable as possible. In other words, make sure children are starving to death, dehydrated and falling asleep. It makes the experience more, well, more something.

7. While going through said cool planes, make sure to repeat the following phrase ad naseum, "Don't touch stuff." Repeat as necessary, interspersing it with, "Get up off the floor".

8. When offered a free drink, take it even though it is not caffeine free. Anything to stop the whining. But then make sure not to get upset when the children decide to wear their drink down their fronts. Just smile and nod.

9. Take exhausted parents out for dinner, but make sure the infant is as hungry as possible. After feeding infant, pinch her a few times so that she cries ALL the way through dinner, making the feeding of the cranky parental units as difficult as humanly possible.

10. Instruct four year old on how to throw the most unreasonable tantrum about which cookie she gets so that you exit the restaurant with as much commotion as possible.

11. Finally, return home, swearing the whole way that you will NEVER do anything like that again. Then within five minutes of arrival, make sure the four year old trips, smashes her face into the banister and needs stitches. It rounds out the day nicely.

I'd like to say we had fun at the air show yesterday, but I'm thinking that's definitely the wrong word to use. So I'll merely say, we went to the air show yesterday.

The rants of an insane mother

2009-06-01T07:35:00.000-07:00

Why? Why do the boys insist on ignoring my tirades about their closet? Why do they still shove their clean Sunday shirts in the laundry instead of hanging them up? Is it really THAT much more effort? REALLY? And why, after telling them to take their laundry basket to their room, did they put it on TOP of all their laundry? WHY???? How many billions of times have I had the same conversation with them that consists of, "PUT YOUR LAUNDRY IN THE FLIPPIN' BASKET"!!! Do they really learn so little? Maybe they aren't nearly as smart as I think they are.

And why doesn't Andrew have any socks. I mean seriously. I bought the kid two big bags of socks, his great-grandma donated another, and the kid has no socks. WHERE THE CRAP ARE THEY???? And why does Michael insist on wearing Andrew's shirts, or his own, but backwards? EVERY DAY! I kid you not!

And then, when collecting the boys laundry this morning, I found the scriptures Andrew looked high and low for yesterday. Where did I find them? Under the giant pile of laundry in their closet. Now, if my boys did what their mother asked them to do and put their laundry IN the basket, he might have been able to find them. Because we all know that boys don't know how to look under things. EVER!

And why can't Lillie ever find the brush? It doesn't grow legs. I promise. But she NEVER took it anywhere but the bathroom. EVER. Now, I know Odessa gets into stuff, and if it were her toothbrush, I'd definitely blame Odessa, but she doesn't take off with the hair brush. And why is it always 1.2 seconds before they have to be out the door that she finally decides to look for the brush? WHY???

And while we are on hair, WHY does Andrew insist on having the spikey hair-do, but refuse to use gel to fix it so that it looks like bedhead after it dries. Every day!! Today, I informed him that the next time I saw him without gel on it, I was going to buzz it like his brother. I anticipate doing that by tomorrow.

And while we are ranting, if my stupid cats knock one more glass of water over on the counter ruining any more of my papers, I may kill them. And I'm only a little kidding.

It's been a lovely Monday morning. Can you tell? Oh, and I may go dig my For Sale by Owner sign out of the basement this morning. GRRRR!

Snapshots

2009-05-30T07:46:00.000-07:00

There are those moments when I am watching my children and I wish I had a camera or the ability to always remember that exact moment. I want to remember everything...the look, the sounds, the feel. Those are the snapshot moments that I keep with me. Here are a few from recent memory.

Odessa:

We are trying to get everyone out of the car and into the church on a rainy Sunday morning. Odessa takes off after the older kids, running as fast as her chubby little legs will take her, but loses a shoe in the process. Instead of picking up the shoe and continuing into the building, she picks it up and plops herself down in the middle of the rain soaked parking lot. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry as I watched her try to get her shoe on. I ran to her, hauling her into the building and laughing as I went. She was completely unaffected by how wet she was and just wanted her shoe on. Oh, how I love that little girl.

Katherine:

Katherine had to have a bunch of dental work done this week, and since she is only four, and not my bravest four-year old, I opted to have her sedated and get the work all done at once. She did wonderfully, but had a difficult time waking up from the anaesthesia. As she began to come-to, I leaned over and kissed her forehead. When I looked down into her face, she had puckered up her little lips and remained that way until I placed my cheek by them so she could kiss me back. She was so groggy, but so insistent on kissing me. She is such a beauty and so sweet!

Lillie:

Lillie brought home a bunch of work from school on Friday. I usually glance through it to see if there's anything the kids either need help with or a little extra work at home. They recently started multiplication and as I went through her work, I could see that she is struggling with it a little bit. She was standing by me, so I picked out a couple of problems to go over with her to see if she knew why they were wrong. One problem had a picture of two firefighters and asked how many fingers they had. Lillie told me they had eight fingers. I looked up at her, questioningly, and held out my own hands and asked again. She then informed me that they had eight fingers and two thumbs. I looked into her freckled face and I could see tears in her eyes. She thinks so much like her father. I explained that for the purpose of this question, the thumbs counted as fingers. She nearly cried, but I loved her so much at that moment. With her piggy tails flying out of control, her beat-up legs, and her wild personality, she was so sad that she misunderstood what was being asked of her. As difficult as she can be, she loves to please people.

Emily:

Can I just keep her little like this for a while? Why do they have to grow so fast?

Andrew:

Last week we went to the park as a family for a picnic. It was wonderful. Andrew and his father threw the football back and forth for a bit and I just wanted to freeze that moment. He's so tall and strong. I love to watch him and his father do things together.

Michael:

As I was hugging Michael goodnight last night, he squeezed me and said, "Mom, thanks for letting me have my own turtle. I'm very fortunate that you let me have a pet turtle." It never ceases to amaze me when he uses big words. He's done it since he was really little and I love how he's able to express himself. Michael is one cool kid!

Singing Hallelujah!!!

2009-05-26T07:07:00.000-07:00

The clouds have parted. The sun is shining. And my oldest three children are back in school. Sing Hallelujah!! I probably sound horribly callous and uncaring, but after three weeks of off-track children, I am grateful for school. I make it no secret that I hate year-round school. (Yes, hate is a strong word.) I want them either in school or out of school. None of this back and forth business. But I am stuck in year-round school land, and so I must suffer.

The biggest problem this last time was that after having a baby, I didn't have the stamina or energy to go do fun things with them, which is how I usually survive. So they were at home. Thank heavens for warm weather. I think that saved all of us!

I didn't cry when Andrew went to Kindergarten. Some parents thought that I was just downright cruel because I was counting down the days. It didn't make me sad. I was thrilled that he could go learn something and someone besides me would be in charge of entertaining him for a couple of hours a day.

I still feel that way. I would have sent Michael to first grade this year if they'd let me! He and Katherine don't play well and he is often bored. I think he's counting down till first grade too.

But all that being said, I love summer break. Summer is for children. It's all about wearing swimsuits for days on end, playing in the water, going to the park, picnics, camping etc. I love summer. And I find value in allowing my children to be bored and 'making' them go play. Children are so creative when allowed to just be free. We haven't even had summer yet, and already we've had Lillie step on a nail, Michael jumping off walls, and the children look as though I beat their legs regularly!

So while I am thankful for a few more weeks of school, I am really excited for summer! (Hopefully I'll be fully recovered by the time they are out of school in July.) Yet another reason to Sing Hallelujah!!

Recovery

2009-05-19T10:22:00.000-07:00

Recovery is a tricky thing and there's so many things nobody tells you and then there are things you won't know until you are the one recovering. And just because you've done it before, say five other times, doesn't mean this time will be the same.

Right now, I am in the fourth trimester of pregnancy. Baby is no longer causing discomfort from the inside, but rather from the outside. Emily is a little colicky and I am sleep deprived. Which, sadly, makes for a mom that is as cranky as in the third trimester of pregnancy. We love her, don't get me wrong, but after a few hours of fussing and walking holes in the carpet, she may join the other children on the sidewalk with a for sale sign on her forehead. It's a good thing she's so yummy!

(They weren't for sale here, but they were attempting to sell their wares at our annual neighborhood yard sale.)

One of the more difficult things about recovering when you have other children, is the fact that they insist on eating and having clean clothes. And since I'm such a big fan of laundry, having a newborn doesn't help the situation at all.

Life doesn't stop just because you have a baby and unfortunately Dad can't take six months off to do all those things so I can lay around the house.

The other difficulty in recovery is this:

She doesn't look at ALL mischievous to you, does she? She likes to do such things as dumping the rest of my Pepsi in the front seat of the van, drawing on herself with marker, eating dirt and/or rocks, joyously dumping toys etc. It makes it hard to sit and rest whilst chasing a VERY busy toddler. I'm starting to think recovery is the wrong word for the stage I'm currently in.

Then there's the fact that I hate laying around the house. I love my house, but I don't want to look at it all the time and I get antsy. People like to make comments on how amazing it is that I'm out and about, but what they don't realize is that it's a matter of sanity. If I don't get out...well, let's just say everyone is happier when mom can get out of the house a little. Even with a newborn. (Heck we went to Fiji when Andrew was three weeks old. I think a trip to the park is not a big deal!)

Of course, there's always moments that make it all worth it. (Even though I offered to sell my sister my children last night. Funny thing, she didn't take me up on it!!) I love my children so much it hurts. And sometimes it does hurt.