Here Comes the Virus.

Kris, with the most cheerful blog template in the whole wide world, has infected me with the Indie Virus.

Pearsonified has started a small, casual social experiment, it’s called “The Indie Virus.” Here’s how Pearsonified describes this experiment:The experiment, henceforth referred to as “The Indie Virus,” has two goals:

* To bring exposure to lesser known blogs (especially those outside of Technorati’s top 100)
* To explore the metrics behind a viral linking campaign launched by the “little guys” (less popular blogs)

Go read about it, it's kind of cool. Aren't we all up for a little casual social experiment? Casual social experiments are what make the world go round. I hope I'm doing this right, it's not as easy as a simple sneeze. Maybe I should go read the directions again, I wish I knew how to do trackbacks. I infect Chilihead with The Indie Virus. T, do you want The Indie Virus? I'm also infecting HolyMama with The Indie Virus. How about I give The Indie Virus to Goslyn? I feel like I just screwed up a chain letter or something.

Some Thursday Thoughts on Clothes

*The whiteness of my family's socks is a direct reflection of the cleanliness of my kitchen floor. Or lack there of.....


*I am completely convinced that over 25% of the clothes that I wash aren't even dirty. This is a result of the way my children "clean their rooms". And I use the term very loosely.

*Gauchos are growing on me.

*That is not my flat little tummy in the gaucho photo, as flat is not a word that will ever be used in the same sentence as "Heth's tummy" again. The girl in the photo has never given birth, her teensy little hips are a dead give away.

*This morning, as I was getting dressed, I looked across the room at Gemma's runny nose and decided against the black shirt I was holding in my hands.

This post has been edited due to my inability to successfully proofread my own writing. Thank you Nate for pointing out my many errors before I made a complete fool of myself. Now I'm olny a fool to the people using feedreaders. Husbands. You can't blog without them.

Mini MacGyver

Remember when I told you that Jack was a little Navy Seal? I give you the proof. In a desperate search for gum, Jack constructed a ladder using couch cushions and found his way into the stash. I give him fifteen points for being so resourceful. Check out those little calf muscles!

Staying In Touch With My Inner Child

Nate has been away on business for two nights and three days. Big whoop, right? Well, I'm a big wuss. When he is away, I morph into an eleven year old, which isn't so great for the kids. They already have an eleven year old brother, they don't need a pre-teen mother too. "How?" you ask.

Let's start at the beginning of the day and take a walk through. When Nate is gone, we sleep in until the last possible minute. On a regular week day, when he is home, I'm up at 5:30 and off for a morning run by 6. When Nate is gone, I don't feel like it would be very responsible to leave my children here all alone, while I am off pounding the pavement at the butt-crack of dawn. Yes, even as my eleven year old self, I retain a tiny bit of responsibility. I'll take all the extra sleep I can get, so I set the alarm for seven and the school kids get a very short 40 minutes to get ready for the bus. I just want to take a moment of silence in honor of the bus. (please join me in this display of gratitude) The bus has changed our mornings from absolute chaos, to serene calm. Ok, maybe not serene calm, but it is much better than when I used to drive them myself.

I am so sidetracked.

While Nate dines on the finest steaks and chicken strips (don't ask) with his business companions, we continue with the eleven year old trend. What fine things do I serve to my children while their father is away? We order pizza or eat mac and cheese, peanut butter sandwiches or pop corn for supper. Easy is in, healthy is out. Shame on me, but WHATEVER!, I'm eleven. Lazy? I know you are but what am I?

My true inner eleven year old makes herself fully known at the end of the day. The kids are tucked in, and I am freaking out. If you haven't figured it out by now, I am deathly afraid of axe murderers. When I'm home alone, I avoid going to bed and I stay up late into the night, killing time and delaying a reasonable bedtime by more than a couple hours. Chicken? Yes. Yellow bellied? Yep. Scaredy cat? That's me. At least I'm owning up to it. When I finally do drag myself to bed, I leave on lights, turn on music, and sleep with the phone on my pillow. These nights are the only nights that I wish we had a dog. No, I take that back. I think it would send me into orbit to hear the dog growling at the axe murderer coming through the back door. Ignorance is bliss, right?

Nate will be back this evening and I am thrilled. Of course because I love him and missed him, but mostly because I want to be twenty nine again. I want to eat real meals, go to bed at a decent hour, and have an extra pair of arms to hold Little Miss Teething Baby. Or maybe I should call her by her other name, Little Miss Velcro Baby. My friend Gretchen over at Lifenut, just survived nine days without her husband. Only, he was gone for a whole different reason. A very generous reason. I don't know what I'm whining about, Nate was only gone for two nights. I think of the widows and the single moms out there and I am completely humbled.

But it doesn't stop me from stomping my feet and sulking about Mr. Business Traveler and his five pillow bed, and breakfasts at Starbucks. Wahhhh, caramel Macchiato.

My Friend Sara

A few of you asked about the wrap that Mariah is wearing in the photo. I'll tell you about it but first I want to introduce you to my friend Sara. Sara and I met in the eighth grade and we were friends until her family moved away our sophomore year. Ok, that makes it sound like we weren't friends anymore after that. We were. We still are. We have kept in touch all of these years. Well, one of us has done a better job of that than the other. I suck. Sara has this wonderful attribute. She remembers special occasions. She has sent me cards and gifts for birthdays and anniversaries and just for fun over the years. Me? Yeah, not so much. Sorry Sara. Sara has taught me many things but I want to highlight three of my favorites.

Babywearing. This is where the wrap comes in. When Sara and Matt had little Bella, Sara dove headfirst into baby carriers. I love that about her. She has a collection of some of the most beautiful wraps and slings and is an official consultant. She has wraps for summer and winter. Slings for teensy little newborns and for hefty, squirmy toddlers. Fabrics that go with your flip flops and fabrics to wear with your strapless black dress. She gave me a Moby Wrap when Gemma was born and I LOVE it. I had dabbled in ring slings with Jack, (see him sucking his thumb there, awww) but they put such uneven pressure on my one shoulder and although I love having my hands free, my back couldn't hack it. This wrap spreads the weight evenly across my back and I could carry Gemma in it for hours. Infact, I do. When she was tiny, she faced towards me and would sleep with her head tucked in the fabric. Now that she is older, she likes to face the world and see what is going on around her. She has been so many places in this thing. Even a Blindside show. It even protected her ears. Love, love, love it. See? We all use it.




Ok, thing number two that Sara has introduced me to. Tea. In the past, I would buy a box of Constant Comment from the grocery store, thow a teabag in my mug, let it steep, and then LEAVE THE TEA BAG IN THE MUG THE WHOLE TIME I AM DRINKING IT! I scream that because now I have been made aware of how much of a tea novice I was. Leaving my teabag in my cup. BAH! For my birthday this year, Sara sent me this little contraption from Adagio teas.

Isn't that nifty? You can't really tell how awesome it is without using it, but let me just assure you. It is awesome. Pop that baby in the microwaveto heat up the water. Throw your favorite tea in to let it steep. Then here's the coolest part. Set the whole thing on top of your mug and it magically lets your tea drain into your mug, straining out all of the leaves. Trust me, it's rad. And if you don't understand my little description, go watch this little video clip. My favorite kind of tea so far? Foxtrot.

The last thing I have learned from Sara, and I don't think she even knows this, is to wear less makeup and just love my natural face. Last time I saw her, Sara looked fabulous. Her skin? Flawless? Her makeup? Minimal. I think she only had mascara on. I admit, I feel so unbelievably naked without makeup, but since seeing my dear friend, I have re-thought the issue. I'm not going to go all deep on you all about inner beauty and whatnot. But I have ditched my eyeliner pencil, 99.9% of the time. And I usually just do mascara and some lipgloss if I'm just running around town. A night out? Tinted moisturizer, some eyeshadow, and some blush are added to my ritual. Sara's skin was just glowing that day. She looked amazing, so healthy and vibrant. Now, that could be because she eats so healthy that I can't even begin to communicate the extent of her healthiness to you. If I did it would include words like: Vegan. Raw. Organic. Etc. Me? Well, you know me and my refined sugar addiction. Maybe someday her eating habits will rub off on me too, but for now, I'll stick to the wrap, the tea and the mascara. Love ya Sare!

She's THIRTEEN!

My little sister turns thirteen today. Wasn't it just last week that I was teaching her to walk? Mariah was born when I was sixteen and a sophomore in highschool. I was so proud to push that little umbrella stroller through the mall. And now, here we are. She pushes MY kids in strollers....well, kind of:

She is an AMAZING babysitter, you should all be jealous. She can handle all six kids at once, and make a craft, play a game, and pick up the house. I'm so blessed to have her for a sister. Now if only her feet would grow a little faster so we could share shoes......

Our Little Zilla

We are in the middle of a birthday extravaganza. February and March are very festive months for our family. In fact, we were headed to a birthday party on the day that Camryn was born. My little sister, Mariah was turning six that year, we sent little Tyler and Noelle over for the party anyway. We had a different kind of party to go to. Camryn made her entrance into the world that very evening. Wrinkly little raisin feet and hands were proof of a mis-calculated due date. This little bun had cooked in the oven a little too long. But how perfect that she now shared a birthday with her Aunt.

Camryn has a giggle that brings a laugh to your own lips. She can paint a penguin like nobody's business. She is my little garden buddy, remembering the names of the flowers from fall to spring. Quiet and shy sometimes, other times bouncing off the walls, you never know with Cam. She can hum the guitar riffs to all of the best Blindside songs. Sometimes she sings the harmony, she's quite the little bird.

Happy seventh birthday Camryn.

Monday Mumble Jumble

A couple unrelated things. Number one. Wedding season is almost upon us and I re-stumbled across this amazing photographer's website. I found his website back in September , and just went out there today for another good cry. Wahhhh, wedding photography is beautiful. His name is David Jay, check him out. Make sure you watch all the videos in the gallery. And make sure you bring out the Kleenex.


Also, I just thought I would reveal the identity of the mystery nibbler. Jack likes his "ceeyo" with sugar on it and sometimes he likes his sugar with a little "ceeyo" on it. It was Jack who left the pile of sugarless shredded wheat on the table. You don't mess with him before he has his morning bowl. He tends to be a little shaky and growly, I know how he feels.

Caedmon let me know that other day that "I can't wait until Jack is three, then he will talk normal." Well, maybe.

Tyler

You are eleven years old today. I'm so proud of you. It must be hard to be the oldest kid, you are our debut child. It's a little bit scary, there is no test run. We are trying to figure this parenting thing out as we go. Forgive us for our mistakes, we're giving it our best shot.

God knew you would be the best big brother. I love watching you with the little ones. When you were a toddler, I would try to picture you as a big kid. What would you look like? Who would you be? And here you are. It's so surreal.

Your sense of humor cracks me up so much. A combination of slapstick and sarcasm. Some times you catch us totally off guard. Like last night when we ran into some of our friends at Sam's club. Some how the conversation turned towards money and you said, "My Dad is going to pay for half of my college." Then you looked at me and announced, "And Mom is going to pay the other half."

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by all the things I need to teach you in the next seven years. But then I remember all the things that I have learned by being your Mom. You have taught me so much about myself, I'm not sure who's getting the better end of the deal. I think we both are.

Happy Birthday Tyler.

Healthy Cereal

The De-Frosting of the Frosted Shredded Wheat.

The chair.

I just wanted to reassure you that we aren't raising axe murderers over here Under the Laundry Pile. Yes, the office chair is a punctured mess. No, it wasn't done in a fit of anger. When I discovered the poor chair, it was surrounded by tiny little Kleenex tissues, clipped into a million pieces. Homemade confetti. The Kleenex box had been trimmed along with some paper. There was no attempt to destroy the evidence, the scissors were even left right there in plain sight. This was a case of a child exploring their cutting skills, and the office chair was just another variable in the child's experiment. I hope I didn't cause too much alarm. I just need to make sure to hide the "mommy scissors" and get the rounded tip Fiskars out. Or maybe I'll just put ALL scissors away. I don't want anymore "haircuts".

Chinese Philosophy?

Yin and Yang.

Check it out: two primal opposing but complementary forces.
Yin, the darker element, is passive, dark, feminine, downward-seeking, and corresponds to the night; yang, the brighter element, is active, light, masculine, upward-seeking and corresponds to the day.

So I guess I look better in black? I have been thinking a lot about how Nate and I completely compliment each other. Specifically, how when one of us is down, the other is up and vice versa. Say I have a completely emotional, bordering on psychotic, bawl my eyes out for no reason, type day. Not that I ever have.....yesterday. Nate is my Yang. Capable and willing to be everything I am not. When he is tired or has a grumpy day. Not that he ever does.....Saturday. I am his Ying, cheerful, energized, and taking care of business. If I'm overreacting about something with the kids, he usually sees it from a different perspective and balances me out. And I do for him. Like if one of our children takes a pair of scissors to a brand new leather (maybe it's fake) office chair, and plays "stab the chair to death". I may initially freak out and not even want to call Nate, fearing for the child's life. But in true Yin Yang style, he stays even keeled and doesn't bat an eye. Not that any of our kids would ever stab a chair with scissors over 45 times.

I really am in awe of how perfectly God fit us together. He sure knew what He was doing.

Because I'm a copy cat...

I saw this over at Mom to the Screaming Masses. It's called Johari and it looked pretty interesting. I don't really know what it has to do with anything but whatthehey! I'm a sucker for quizzes and polls and all this kind of junk. So go check it out and then make one for yourself too.

http://kevan.org/johari?name=LaundryLady

I am alive.

I want a t-shirt that says "I survived The Fever". It wasn't pretty, that was a nasty bad little virus. Seriously. Jack is still trying to beat it. He still has a pretty bad cough and wakes up every half hour all night long, asking for his Daddy.

Yeah RIGHT!! Of course he only wants Mommy. Jack and I end up sleeping all over the house. From the futon to the couch to the bed to the couch to the futon. It's musical beds, not a game I am thrilled about playing. And Gemma still feels the need to eat at least once in the middle of the night, thank you Gemma. Is nine months old enough to take Nyquil? KIDDING! maybe

If you see me around town, don't run screaming in the other direction. It's not a zombie, it's just me. In an attempt to get some fresh air and to leave the house after too many days inside, we all piled in the van to run a few errands last night. I'm pretty sure I scared the whole town with my pasty white make-upless face and my hair all tucked up in a baseball hat. The mouth breathing was attractive. I was looking so Glam.

So there's a whine for ya. Come on over to my blog and listen to me complain. Good times.
This year, for every holiday that involves gifts, I'm going to ask for sleep. Can I just put that on my Christmas list? Heather wants sleep. It might be a difficult gift to wrap, but I don't mind if you wrap it in the Sunday funnies, I'll take it.

A Filler

I'm catching it. The watery eyes, the runny nose, the congestion. I'm sure by this evening it will be the full blown Fever. So no funny kid stories, nothing profound. (not that I have ever written anything profound) I give you a filler. The infamous Google game that answers the difficult questions of life, one being, what does Heather need? (yes, my name is Heather, not Heth) I just typed the words "Heather needs" into old Google and quickly found out. This cracked me up.

1. Heather needs men....now!
2. Heather needs two therapists.
3. Heather needs a rest.
4. Heather needs a childhood.
5. Heather needs to stick with her career as a country artist.
6. Heather needs veggies.
7. Heather needs to find the right balance between emotions and logic.

I'll take number three, which to me, screams nap. But I'm not so sure about the rest of them. What do you need? Go Google it and find out.

They're dropping like flies.

The Fever has taken over our family, one by one. And can I admit this? Sometimes I like it when my kids are sick. Of course I don't like it that they feel horrible. But I love the rosy little cheeks and glassy eyes. I love the quiet that falls over the house when Jack is lethargic on the sofa. I love holding them. I love that they sit still and let me hold them. I love laying my cheek on their fiery little foreheads.

Noelle spent two days home from school, sleeping on the couch. It was a special time, having her home with the three littles. A different dynamic. She let Camryn in on the perks of being sick. "You get to watch TV all day, and eat chicken noodle soup, and be with Mom." Awwww. Melts my heart.

Jack was blindsided by The Fever yesterday afternoon. He didn't particularly love the watery eyes that afflicted him. Infact, he would scream "MY EYES!" But a little cuddling would put him right to sleep, and he also spent the afternoon on the couch.

Last night, Nate could feel The Fever coming on. "Why is our house so freezing?" Um, it's 70 degrees in here. After dinner he retreated to the couch to snuggle with Caedmon who's face was flushed and was also beginning to show signs of The Fever.

As soon as the American Idol theme music started playing, I claimed my cushion on the couch and was immediately swarmed by feverish children. One of them being little Gemma, thumb in her mouth and head resting on my chest. You know, a sick family doesn't need to stock up on Tylenol or chicken noodle soup. What they really need are more Mommies. Last night I was wishing I had six more arms and a couple more laps. I wanted to hold each one of them and stroke each little sweaty forehead. But I'm sure, with more than two Feverish children on my lap at once, I would have spontaneously combusted.

Today, Noelle is back to school. Camryn and Tyler are healthy. Jack is up to his antics again, and Caedmon's bout seems to be short lived. But Daddy is knocked out on the couch, and Gemma's little cheeks couldn't be redder. Can I just sit and hold her all day? It's a good thing laundry doesn't have a voice, or it would be screaming at me right now. And I would continue to ignore it. Clean clothes are overrated.

The boys, the boys.

This is quickly becoming the Caedmon and Jack show. Do I even HAVE any other children?

A quick follow up on the chocolate syrup incident of 2006. My magical, mystical, miracle-working, carpet cleaning machine saved my gluteus maximus, once again. I spent two hours extracting brown sludge from my carpet, but it looks better than ever. I also peeled the covers off of the couch cushions and gambled on putting them in the washing machine. They came out shiny clean and a half a shade lighter than the rest of the couch, but oh well. I'm not complaining. I didn't take any pictures because it's getting ridiculous. I'm embarrassed to say, they boys make a mess, see me coming with my permanent scowl, and proceed to say in the sweetest voice, "Better get the camera Mom...." Oops. Yeah, that's my fault. I'm guilty, I get the camera first, discipline later. And for the record, no children were harmed in the chocolate syrup fiasco.

I promised blue goatee evidence and tonight I deliver.






Looks like a whole lot of fun doesn't it? Yee Haw!

Maybe one of these days I'll write about something other than two little trouble makers and their messy adventures. Probably not though.

Lessons in logic for preschoolers

Mom loves chocolate. -True

Mom does not love the living room carpet or the green couch. She hates them. -True

Covering the living room carpet and the green couch with a whole bottle of chocolate syrup will cause Mom to love the green couch and the living room carpet. -False

Actually, it will just make smoke come out of her nostrils.

E-Babybooks?

I gave up on baby books after kid number three. It's all down hill from there. And guess what? I don't scrapbook either. It's my own little way to rebel against society.

But I have this here blog, in lieu of the traditional recording of milestones. You lucky people [victims] get to read all of the daily tidbits of my children's lives. Cozy up with me on my cyber couch as I read you the latest goings on around here. Wow, I might as well pull out the vacation photos from the past eleven years and put you to sleep with a slide show on my living room wall. Booooring.

But I'm going to do it anyway.

I love my caller ID. I screen calls that show up as 1-800 blah blah blah. Anything that shows up as "unavailable" doesn't get answered either. But I was cracking up when Tyler answered a phone call from a buddy yesterday. He glanced at the caller ID, saw it was his friend, and pulled a "What UP?!" Quickly realizing it could be his friend's mother, he recovered with an "I mean, um, hello?" I was giggling in the next room.

Noelle's third grade class has the challenging task of using their newly learned cursive on a daily basis. She is supposed to practice her spelling words everyday by writing them, not printing them. It takes foreeeeeeever. Triple the time. I empathized with her after I decided to see how MY cursive is after all of these years. Since I print most of the time, and only throw in the occasional cursive uppercase "I", it wasn't pretty. I kept cheating by looking over at her paper, or asking "How do you make a lowercase "b" Noelle?". I think from here on out I'll stick to my own little mix of printing and cursive that I call my handwriting.

Camryn wants to skip over spring and head straight into summer. Know why? She is scared of tornados and bees. I tried to tell her of tulips and rain showers and Easter. In her mind Spring=itchy red welts and the threat of a swirling vortex. Summer looked good until yesterday's talk of swimming lessons. Now she is worried about THAT too. On an un-worrying note, she has a new found magic touch with Gemma that no one else has. She can put that baby to sleep so quick, it is just precious.

I have recently observed that Caedmon eats all food by wadding it up in his hand and gnawing on it like a beaver. Awesome.

Jack has a new word. It comes out something like this: "buttquack" We aren't sure if it should be on the naughty words list or not. It's too funny to discipline.

Gemma is standing alone. Someone tie her shoelaces together, I'm not ready for her to join her brothers in crime.

There you have it. I feel better about the pretty but empty books sitting in the storage room. I think I started writing Caedmon's birth story in his babybook, but never got back to it. Um yeah, that was four and a half years ago..........

Most of this is boring.

Nothing very exciting going on around the Laundry Pile. Well, unless you count the black crayon that stowed away in a pocket and made it all the way through to the dryer. It definitely left it's mark, luckily it only ruined a set of sheets, not my favorite Blindside shirts.

Caedmon has been remembering his dreams in the morning and then feels the need to share them with everyone.

Caedmon: Want to hear my dream mom?
Me: Sure!
Caedmon: It was me, and Owen and Ethan and our whole family and were were in Grandma's woods and we were walking, walking, walking. And we all had guns. And we saw something in the bushes, and we shot it, and it was a skunk. And you know what was inside?
Me: What?
Caedmon: MEAT!

So that's fun.

We went out for dinner last night at a pizza buffet and I broke my number one buffet rule: Never eat off of the salad bar. After working in a restaurant for a couple years and seeing the behind-the-scenes of the salad bar world, I vowed to never eat the macaroni salad or any of the rest of it again. People, it's gross. I'm telling you. But something about the glob of tan goo in the back row was calling to me. And even though I didn't know exactly what it was, I need to try it. I was hoping it would be from the pudding family. Quite the risk taker aren't I? Well, I was right, it was banana. And no food poisoning so far. YAY!

It turns out that the general public thinks that I'm meetable. Can you believe it? I won! But I'm implementing the don't-drop-by-without-calling-first rule. I need at least a half-hour notice to straighten upthe house. Thanks for voting for me, you guys are great. Oh that I could meet you all.

Some of my friends won too:

• Daring Young Mom will make you laugh and spit out your coffee all over your keyboard
• Shannon will make you want to have kids. Or have MORE kids. (yikes!)
• Karen's blog is oh so very happy.

The rest of the winners I don't know but I'm sure they are fabulous! I don't dare add any more blogs to my very, very, very, long reading list, there is only so much time in the day.

So on that note, I hereby kick myself off of the computer and head straight back to the laundry room, my home within my home. And I will be checking all the pockets from here on out.