Friday Flashback and some other stuff too

Busy busy busy. It seems that since spring has sprung, I am spend less time on the computer and more time outside. I guess that's a good thing, especially for my family. We have realized that if Jack is outside, he needs a grown-up following him AT ALL TIMES. The kid is an escape artist if I ever saw one. Here he is, trying to get into the gated kitchen by using the overturned vacuum cleaner as a stepping stool. This year he reeeeally wants to be at the park with the big kids, but the park is at the end of our street. Running down the middle of the street alone just isn't a good idea when you are two. So I am officially his personal body guard, protecting him from himself.



We have done a bit of gardening, not veggies yet but mostly moving flowers around. I keep waiting for one of our trees to start growing money so that I can make a big trip to the nursery and pick up all kinds of plants. Yeah, I don't see that happening anytime soon. We have nice green trees, but it seems that they are of the non-money bearing species. Gardening can be expensive, especially when your husband loves his lawn almost as much as he loves you. So we are buying lots of not-fun type things as well. Weed and Feed, turf builder, blah, blah, blah.

Tyler was impaled last night. That's a great way to start off a paragraph isn't it? Really grabs the attention of the reader. We were doing a bit of mushroom hunting (morels are out in full force people) and he took a running dive under a locust tree. I'm pretty sure it wasn't on purpose, the kid totally tripped. Anyway, when he stood up he realized that his chest hurt a little bit and upon further inspection, we found a small black dot. It was the end of a thorn that was stuck straight into his skin. Nate had his Swiss Army knife and pulled out the tweezers. He managed to do a minor surgery right there in the woods and pulled out a thorn that was between 1/3 and 1/2 inch long. I'm kind of bad at estimating length, sorry. It was nasty though. Tyler was pretty proud of his wound, being the true boy that he is.

Finally, I give you a Friday Flashback. I forgot what a pair Camryn and Caedmon were before Cam had to start Kindergarten. They were almost as mischievous as Caedmon and Jack, but not quite. It seems that Cam wanted to practice her drawing skills and decided that her little brother's naked skin was the perfect canvas. I wish you could see each little person she drew on his back, they were hilarious. He must have just sat there so still while she did her work. It's a good thing she wasn't into pointillism.

The Best Burger King Kid Meal Toys So Far

The kid in me still pulls the toy out of the kid meal before I unwrap my burger. When Spongebob was the prize at the bottom of the bag, I was giddy. Call me juvenile, but this pic cracks me up every time. Feeling down? Just pull out the photo of the army of Spongebobs.

A little of this, a little of that.

I haven't been keeping up with reading everyone's blogs. I took a night off from reading and this morning bloglines says I have 45 new posts to read. PEOPLE! You can slow down a bit, I may be a fast reader but not THAT fast. Good gracious.

A run down on a couple of the kids. Gemma is enjoying her new form of transportation. Walking is now her method of choice and she is getting quite good at it. Sometimes it even looks a little bit like a run, if you can call it that. Not too much crawling going on, she is definitely a mover and a shaker. She still does enjoy being carried around by yours truly. A new funny trick: when I try to set her down on the floor, she holds her right leg up and refuses to put it down. She looks so ridiculous with the toes of her left leg barely touching the floor and her right leg way up in the air. This is her little way of communicating to me that she wants me to continue to hold her. As if I didn't know that by the arching of the back and the whimpering and whining that she turns on and off like a switch. It's a good thing she's cute.

Caedmon is on the verge of riding bike without training wheels. All of the kids had a very high standard set for them when their oldest brother learned at age three. Tyler was hilarious, zipping around on a tiny little blue dino bike. This is the same bike that Caedmon (4 1/2) is trying to learn on. When I realized he might do better with a little bigger bike, I pulled out the taller red one. He looked at me and asked, "Did I just level up?" We have GOT to cut back on video games around here.

Baseball and softball practices are in full swing for Tyler and Noelle. Tyler has "leveled up" and is now in the 5th and 6th grade little league. I am so nervous I think I might pee my pants. This is the more competitive league. The league where some of the dad's get a little "vocal". It's kind of sad that they had to put a paragraph on the info sheet about "parental behavior". I applaud the league though. They have made a lot of changes this year to keep it fun for the kids and to keep the parents under control. *clapping*

Like I said, Noelle is playing softball this year. It is her first real involvement in sports. She has taken swimming lessons and that is about the extent of her extra curricular activity resume at the ripe old age of nine. We are so excited to go watch her team, the Yellow Jackets. Go Welly!

Camryn is making it through tornado season just fine. She loves to draw and I have noticed that she has been doodling a whole lot of funnel clouds lately. It must be good (and cheap) therapy. Let it out Cam, let it out.

This whole thing is starting to sound like a really bad Christmas letter. Let's break it up a little bit.

Two new favorite grocery store finds this week:

Sassy Salsa Jolly Time microwave popcorn. It leaves your finger tips nice and orange.
And also, Strawberry Milkshake PopTarts. Heavenly.

I just went out to the PopTart website and saw that they make a flavor called Frosted Caramel Chocolate. How come OUR little store doesn't carry that flavor? It's probably best that they don't.....

Our crabapple tree is in full bloom. Too bad it only lasts a week or so. I stepped out the back door yesterday and was immediately blessed with the heady aroma. If I'm scarce this weekend, you'll know where to find me, sitting out on the deck breathing deeply. Ahhhhh.

Have a great weekend everyone.

Too much Wile E. Coyote?

Caedmon was convinced that banana peels really ARE slippery.....

I Am From

I came across this really neat thing over at Mary's Owlhaven. It's a little writing assignment type thingy and it was really fun to do. Here is the "form" if you want to try it too. I feel like I could write ten of these and they would all be different, I have so many fond memories.

I Am From

I am from sheets hung out on the clothesline, from Ajax and dusting socks. I am from the smoky smell of the wood burning stove. From the mulberry tree that left our feet forever stained and dirty, from the gravel driveway. I am from Sunday night popcorn and my Grandma's freckles, from Howard and Cecil and Val and Rosie.

I am from dessert lovers and deer hunters. “From stand up straight” and “it's time to rise and shine.” I am from dinner time devotions. From Saturday morning bible studies in the living room and the coffee cakes and egg bakes.

I'm from small town hospital, from Germans and Lithuanians. From buster bar dessert and home grown sweet corn and tomatoes straight from the garden. I am from the camping trip when dad accidentally used dish soap in our breakfast, from the rope swing in the hay mow where bales on steamy summer afternoons. I am from the whistle of the pressure cooker announcing supper is almost done.

I am from thirty photo albums that are looked at and laughed at by all. I am from home movies that are rewound and slow motioned over and over. From laughter and giggles and smiles as we remember the past.

Why I am a weirdo- A Meme

Gibee tagged me for this meme. Six weird things about me in no particular order.

1. When I eat Lucky Charms, I eat all the cereal first saving all of the marshmallows until the end. This way I have at least three full spoonfuls of pure sugar delight at the end of my morning cereal experience.
2. When I load the dishwasher I have a very specific way that I do it, but when I put the clean dishes away, it's a free for all. Don't open the cupboard, it will rain down tupperware on your head. Just a note- I don't care how OTHER people load my dishwasher, I'm not uptight like that. I just have to do it "the right way" when I load it.
3. I do not wash my makeup off before bed. And I can't believe I am admitting this next part...most of the time I don't brush my teeth either. GROSS! I know. I usually just crash and I don't want to mess with all of that "personal hygiene" stuff, so I just throw on my pj's and hit the pillow. Mom and Dad, I'm sorry about all the money you spent on braces, and I promise that I DO brush my teeth in the morning.
4. When I am getting dressed to go somewhere and I am frustrated with my wardrobe selection, sometimes I stand in front of the closet hoping that maybe something new will appear. Or I leave the closet and come back a few minutes later, just in case I missed an awesome shirt or pair of pants that I didn't see the first time. A girl can dream can't she?
5. I have stinky feet.
6. My elbows overextend when I straighten them. Nate thinks that one is really weird.

I tag:

Nate

T

Ang

Hannah

Surfing dictionary dot com?

This afternoon I hit the grocery store for a few items with my three little ones that aren't in school. We only came out with three bags so had Caedmon and Jack each carry a bag out to the car. As we walked I was praising them for their efforts and strength. I said "You guys are my little...." but I stumbled while I was searching for the word for "carry out boys" or "grocery guys" Caedmon completed the sentence for me: "minions Mom? Are we your minions?"

Yes Caedmon, you all are. My six little minions.

Anna

It was a happy day when Anna joined our family. Sister-in-law isn't the right word to describe her. I remember the day she married my brother Shane, I was standing up there bawling like a baby. I literally sobbed the entire wedding. It was the single most beautiful wedding EVER in the history of the world. I'm not even kidding. There was such a sweet spirit in that chapel, it was as if God was sitting right there in the front row. (He probably was.)

Anna, you are such a perfect match for my brother, God truly brought you two together. I love you, have a GREAT birthday, and celebrate with a new pair of adorable shoes.

Distracted part two

Back in January I wrote a little bit about how distracted I can be. It's really quite ridiculous. Let me give you an example from yesterday:

I finished up switching Noelle and Camryn's winter and summer clothes. (round of applause for me please) I didn't feel like I was up to tackling the boys' stuff quite yet so I started puttering around the house, doing other little jobs. The trash can was overflowing, so I pulled the bag out and took it outside. When I was about to put the new bag in, I noticed how dirty the inside of our garbage can is. You know how sometimes the bag comes off of the edge but "someone" was lazy and just threw whatever it was they were throwing away in anyway. Well that thing they were throwing away must have been spaghetti sauce and it was crusted all down the inside of the can. I dragged the can and the recycling bin out side to be hosed down. Isn't that ambitious? Wait. It gets better.

Now you have to know that our garbage can and recycling bin sit in the bottom of the "pantry" which is just a small coat closet in the kitchen. When we moved in, we hung a pretty little curtain over the door way, not that it keeps Jack out of the chocolate chips or anything. With the garbage can and bin out of the closet, I was faced with the brutal reality of how nasty this closet had become. The wall was scuffed and dinged and dripped on all around the garbage can and the floor was kind of sticky. I grabbed a bucket and sponge and started scrubbing. The floor looked better right away but the walls were not giving up their grime. That's because this closet had only ever been primed, never painted. I thought, "I'll just paint this area around the garbage can, that should spruce this pantry right up". So I did. I grabbed some white paint and slapped it right on that wall.

It was at this point that I took the final plunge. I realized that chances are, I would never get back to painting the REST of the pantry so I better just do it now. I changed into my painting clothes, pulled all the food off of the shelves, took the shelves down and went crazy. There were cobwebs in the top of that closet that were a hundred years old. Well, maybe not, the house was built in 1979, but whatever. My hard work was rewarded when I found a long Nestle's Crunch bar from Halloween on the very top shelf. Bonus! And yes I ate it.

The closet looks great, not that anyone is ever going to notice. It's a closet for goodness sake. I put the kitchen back together and all of the food is back on the shelves and I discovered that we have five boxes of instant rice, so that's good. Today I tackle the boys' clothes, and who knows what else. Maybe I'll end up staining the deck. I sure hope not.

Endurance

Yesterday was the 110th Boston Marathon.

I was running my own little marathon over here at my house. It was the Laundry Marathon of 2006. No new records were set, I didn't win a medal, but we did come out with baskets full of clean underwear, so that's a bonus. I busted it out people. I followed the advice of a legendary launderer, "Keep your machines running." And that's what I did. Truth be told, the marathon isn't over yet. It's more of a duathlon. I'm about to tackle the looming winter clothes/summer clothes switch. Waaaaah. Not one of my favorite jobs.

Anyway, back to the Boston Marathon. Craziness.


And that's the second wave of people.

I have dabbled in running the last few years and it has totally piqued my interest in races like this. Rita Jeptoo's time just blows my mind. How is that humanly possible?


She rules in a big way. Yes, the men were faster, blah, blah, blah.

I'm sure there are many, many inspiring stories but I want to point these guys out to you. Team Hoyt. I'm sure some of you already know their story, it is just plain beautiful. A dad and his son conquering the almost impossible.



Wow.

Armed and Dangerous

It's the Post-Easter Chocolate War and my arsenal is full.

I'm on a major sugar high

Just popping into the cyber world long enough to say hi, and then it's back to the jelly beans.

I just finished hiding Easter candy all over our living room for tomorrow morning's big Easter egg hunt extravaganza. We had plans of hiding eggs outside this year, but the thunderstorm tonight has kept all the chocolate inside yet again. I love my messy kids, but I'm not sure I'm up for muddy clothes on Easter Sunday. I think I have stashed little piles of jelly beans and chocolate in every available hiding place. The ritual goes a little something like this: hide 4 peeps, eat one. Hide four peeps, eat one. Etc. Etc. Etc. And now it's off to bed with a very full stomach, thanks to my wonderful mother-in-law.

Two quick questions though. Dust bunnies don't eat chocolate do they? If they do, we are doomed. and Am I a dork because I spelled out the word "EASTER" with jelly beans in the middle of the living room floor? I was going to spell "HAPPY EASTER" but I didn't have enough beans left. It seems I ate too many.

Another Chapter inThe Jack and Caedmon Show

We have entered a new season. Yes it's spring, but really I think it should be called the Season of the Worms. We live in a quiet little neighborhood on the outskirts of town. You would never suspect what kind of horrors live under the soil of our quaint little yard. Millions and millions of worms. Late at night, when the smell of rain hangs in the air, you can find my husband tiptoeing across the yard, with a flashlight in one hand and a coffee can in the other. The grass literally teems with the things. Nate's Dad comes and collects a few hundred to feed and tend until they are monsterous beasts at least an inch in diameter. They might even grow teeth, I'm not sure. He then takes them Up North to the lake where he uses them to catch lots and lots of yummy fish. Just a side note. I'm becoming a lot more comfortable with putting the worm on the hook ALL BY MYSELF. I know, I'm a big girl now.

Back to the story.

On a sunny morning like today, my two little boys can be found out in the freshly tilled garden, digging for wiggly, slimy treasure. Their shoes are weighted with a few pounds of mud and their fingernails are nice and black. Long after they are done digging, they are still clutching a handful of something in their little fists. Yep, the worms. Caedmon really like to put his worms in his pockets. One day, on a shopping trip to a town about twenty minutes away, we discovered that he was still carrying around a pocketful of fish bait. When we made him throw them out the window, he was so amused that one of them had stuck to the outside of the glass. Such cheap fun.

The most surprising place I have found the worms so far happened this morning. Jack was running across the sidewalk in his heavy, mud covered red chucks. His hands were full of worms and he was wearing the first shorts of the season. With a trip and a slide, his knees were scraped and his dirty little cheeks stained with tears. His tears quickly turned to smiles when I suggested a bath, with bubbles. As soon as Caedmon heard the word bath, he was stripped down and climbing into the tub too. And that's when I found out that there were more than two "kids" in the tub. Yes, they took their worms into the bathtub, now very, very clean worms. I took a picture, but you know the drill, you'll have to wait for those. Still dreaming.

So just a quick recap. Worms can be found:

• In the garden
• In the grip of a little boy's fist
• Stuck to a car window
  
• In a little boy's pocket
• In the bathtub

You never really know.....

A Nine Year Old on Easter

Tonight as we sat down to a dinner of bacon and pancakes, we folded our hands, closed our eyes and I asked Noelle to pray. I added "Don't forget, it's Easter week." She began "God, thank you for your birthday, and help us all to have a good birthday and to remember our birthday this week. Amen." Before I even poured the syrup, the other kids quickly pointed out her mistake. "Easter isn't His birthday, Christmas is!" Noelle quietly replied. "I know, but Easter is too, and it's all of our birthdays. It's the day we were all reborn."

Preach it sister!

Just a few quick things...

One of my children made a time capsule yesterday and buried it in the garden. It was a Coke bottle with a pencil, a penny, and some rocks inside. ROCKS. Because there may not be rocks in the future.

Ice Age 2 is really, really funny. Go see it. Go see it in a theatre with a hundred little kids, even funnier.

The little bracelets that they give you at the church nursery to identify you with your child? Yeah. I just realized I am still wearing mine. Oops. But oh so fashionable.

Guess what this is:

A gum headband.

The kid never ceases to crack me up.

Just A Heads Up

I just wanted to let you all know that despite the forecast for 64 degree weather across the Midwest tomorrow, it's probably going to snow. These weather people don't really know what they are talking about and I have a much more reliable predictor of the weather.

I just packed up all the winter coats.

I'm sorry, I hate to do this to you all, but it was necessary. When you entered our front door, all you could really do was throw your jacket in the general direction of the coat hooks and pray that it would stay. There were millions and millions of coats and jackets surrounding the entrance to our home. So today I am taking twenty two coats to the Good Will. I washed and put away another 18 coats, along with fourteen pairs of snow pants in various sizes. Since I love wallowing in the mess of half finished projects, I will tackle hats and mittens tomorrow.

Prepare for a snow day.

You found me HOW?

I love Google. Google is like a magic wand. Or maybe it's more like a magic carpet, taking you wherever you want to go. Or maybe it's more like a magic detective. Or maybe I don't know what the heck I'm talking about. One of the features that I enjoy about sitemeter, is that I can see how people found me, and people out there are searching for some interesting things on good old Google. These are some of the phrases people searched for and they found me, Under the Laundry Pile.

• how do you fix laundry that turned pink?
• explain blindside shekina
• dirty socks on carpet
• shiny keyboard
• "wear them without socks"
• chariots of fire themesong
• ovaltine-stain in carpet
• kleenex sofa snuggle
• "unhook the plow"
• crazy short hairstyle cuts
• how to get lipstick off of a couch
• tied her shoelaces together photo

Yeah, so if you want a crazy short cut and your socks are dirty, then just wear them without socks, but make sure you tie your shoelaces together. If you have lipstick on your couch, ovaltine in your carpet, and your laundry has turned pink, fear not it could be worse.

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.

Old Lu

Sweet coat? Check
Driver's license? Check

Invincibility? Working on it......

Happy 16th birthday to my little brother Luke.

Insurance

Wednesday afternoon I made a double batch of chocolate chip cookies. I nibbled on the dough a bit, because know what? I can. I am the mommy now and I don't have to ask to lick the beaters. Or share them. I baked up six or seven dozen, I'm not sure, I lost count. Last night, Thursday night, while all of the children were sleeping soundly in their beds, I opened the container and pulled out the last three cookies. I looked at them sitting next to my glass of cold milk and I faced a huge decision. Should I eat all three? I promise if there were five or even seven, I would have asked the same question. Should I eat them all? But my mother's intuition kicked in. I ate two and bagged up the last one to be stashed in a secret place. In a place where no one would find it except me. Because I knew.

What did I know? I knew that today was no school. I knew that all the kids can't possibly be on their best behavior all at once. I knew that they would start bickering about things such as whether or not "one, two, skip a few, ninety-nine, one hundred" is a legitimate way to count to 100. I knew that sometime in the middle of the afternoon, my body would start screaming for a chocolate chip cookie and I would become desperate. I knew that I would need a little nest egg. One little cookie. My secret hoard. And it is so worth it.

Proof

In a feeble attempt to redeem myself from yesterday's brutal honesty, I give you poor quality camera phone pics. (Have I mentioned this lately?)

Look, quick! My living room is clean! It won't last long.



And also, the shoes....only 13 pairs today. Yes, I straightened them up for the picture, you didn't want to see them in a pile like they were.



So go ahead and stop by! Wait, don't. I'm not going to be home today. See, I told you. Not so meetable am I?

In other news, Nate did some work last weekend and completed the triple-decker. The trundle is done and rolls out beautifully. Hooray for Lumberjack Husband!

Huh? What?

Ok, this is me picking up my jaw, totally floored that I made finalist in the Share the Love blog awards. I am up against some fine ladies in the categories "Most Meetable in Real Life" and "Best Commenter".

Let's discuss.

Most meetable in real life? Well kind of, maybe, if it's on my terms. You can't just drop by, because the couch cushions are on the floor again, being jumped on by two rambunctious little boys. There are probably a few (ok, more than a few) dirty dishes in the sink, and you will trip over the twenty or so pairs of shoes by the front door. I mean you can totally just stop by if you want to, but I'll be trying to stealthily straighten up the room without you noticing the whole time you are here, and I'll only be half listening. The other half of my brain will be listening to my inner dialogue of self hatred, scolding myself for not keeping the house cleaned up.

We can chat, but I promise the kids will be in and out of our conversation the whole time. "Mahhhhhhm? Camryn hit me." or "Mahhhhhhm? I'm starving." I promise it will be a constant, "Mahhhhhhhm?" in the most annoying, nasal tone that they reserve specifically for calling my name. They are always on their best behavior when we have guests. Yeah right.

So yes, I'm pretty meetable, as long as we agree to meet at a coffee shop or somewhere else that serves high calorie caffeinated drinks. And as long as I don't bring the kids. Let's set that up why don't we? If you don't show up, I'm still staying and enjoying a latte alone.

Best commenter? If you look closely, I think I use the same adjectives in every other comment. "Precious." "Hilarious." "You crack me up." Yeah, I have a pretty big vocabulary.

Go check out the finalists. There are some really precious, hilarious ones that crack me up. And vote while you are at it, it's your blogging duty.

Why the government might take my children away.

Today was grocery day. Grocery day means full cupboards but nothing for supper. Throw in three parent-teacher conferences this evening and what do you get? Poptarts for supper. Yep, you read that right, we had Poptarts for supper tonight. I had intentions of making them eat some fruit too, but we got wrapped up in the Spongebob special. (Tyler has been counting down for WEEKS people) The fruit never happened.

So yeah, that's healthy.

And Now for Something Completely Different

I lost a few pounds.
Exercise? no.
Eating only celery? no.
Sitting in a sauna for three hours? no.

I got a haircut.

If you know me very well, you know I don't like to keep the same hairstyle very long. I get bored. I took the opportunity, while pregnant with little Gemma, to grow my hair out. Take advantage of those prenatal vitamins women! They are huge and nasty and make you want to puke, but they sure do make your hair grow! Alas, these last few weeks, I had become bored again and the weight of these tresses was giving me headaches. I have been putting it up or pulling it back almost every single day and it was HEAVY. When it's down, the static electricity was crazy. Crazy I say.

I decided if I was going to cut it, I was just going to go for it. And so I did. I had it cut and I donated the ponytail to Locks of Love. I figured, if I hated it short I could just grow it all back, but the little girls without hair can't. Aaaaanyway. Want to see pics*? Huh? Do ya? Ok. Here it is before and after.

Before....... (Ewww, that look is so ewww.)

After...... (just home from the salon, still hadn't styled it myself)



See how excited I am?


Hooray for short hair! I love my stylist. LOVE HER!

Kid reactions:
Tyler: "Meh"
Camryn: "You look like Aunt Ann."
Jack: Double take
Gemma: Eye contact for a full 30 seconds
Caedmon: "I don't like it, I want your old hair back."
I asked Noelle what she thought of the color and she said it looked like chocolate with caramel in it. Yum, I want to lick it. Better not with all that "product".....

*I still don't have a digital camera, Aunt Ann does.

Snowed in and Snowed out

I'm not sure who is getting the better end of the deal, it's still undecided.

The big snow storm hit and the kids and I are snowed in. Nate is traveling for work and decided to stay an extra night and not to risk driving home until the roads are plowed, he is snowed out. Let's weigh both sides.....

Snowed out: A hotel room with five pillows. Five stinking pillows. He even shared the love and emailed me a picture of the beautiful beautiful five pillows. I cried a little bit.

Snowed in: Three little kids, sleeping on your head. One was scared, one just wanted to sleep with mommy, and the baby was a raging furnace of fever. It was like sleeping with in campfire.

Snowed out: Eating out. Steak I think.....

Snowed in: Eggs for supper. But tonight, homemade chicken noodle soup. We will fight these colds until the very end. Take THAT you persistent runny noses!

Snowed out: Browsing IKEA alone.

Snowed in: Taking six kids to two stores. In a blizzard. Come on, you can't blame me, we didn't want eggs for supper two nights in a row.


Because I was feeling sorry for myself, I ate a few more brownies than I should have, and now I'm going to bed. You know how Sumo wrestlers gain all that weight? They binge and then take a nap. Hmmmmmm

Wow!

I've been nominated for a blog award in multiple categories. Me, the girl who doesn't even make her bed. What is UP?!



The voting has begun and you can read all about it here. There are some really great bloggers out there, take a few moments do some reading. Some of my most favoritest blogs I found through other nominee lists. It's a big, big blogging world people.

The Truth

1. I have dimples on my shoulders that I inherited from my mom and have passed on to every one of my children. Not true. All my kids do have dimples on their shoulders, and they inherited them from my mom, but the only dimple I have is on my left cheek. (The cheek on my FACE, get your minds out of the gutter people.)

2. I make my bed every day, but I don't make the kids' beds. Not true. The kids are supposed to make their own beds in the morning, sometimes they do, sometimes they don't. This is a "do as I say, not as I do" type chore. I never ever ever make my own bed. (Mopsy, I am so flattered that I look like a bed maker, but it's all a facade.)

3. I once fell from a cheerleading stunt while in highschool. We were doing an extension and the girls who were the base, dropped me. I ended up with a mild concussion. Not true. No concussion, but I did fall. A moment of silence for the days of flexibility...... WAHHHHH.

4. I once sang a duet in a vocal contest with an older boy from youth group. When we hit the stage, I lost all sense of pitch and embarrassed myself completely. TRUE! I definitely have a "choir" voice, not a solo voice. I usually have a great sense of pitch, but I think this was a divine intervention. I was getting a bit cocky about the duet and I was pretty sure we were going to do awesome. I guess I needed to learn a lesson on humility. The poor guy probably regrets the day he decided to sing with me.

5. In elementary school, I was such a little book worm, that I had read every single book in our little media center by the time I was in the 4th grade. Not true. I was a total bookworm, but I only read all the books about HORSES in our little media center.

There you have it.

My first love.

Happy Birthday to my first Valentine, my Daddy.

Even Alien Robots Can Share the Love

This afternoon, as we were cranking out some last minute Valentines, Caedmon was having a hard time deciding which Star Wars character Valentine to give to each person. So he asked me "Mom, do you think Shane likes Generous Grievous*?" I guess around Valentines day, all the bad guys go a little soft.....


*For all of you who are not StarWars geeks, his name is General Grievous

I cannot tell a lie.

Many moons ago (ok, last week) Lauren tagged me for this little meme. Five things about me are listed below and only one of them is true. Can you guess which one is not a lie?

1. I have dimples on my shoulders that I inherited from my mom and have passed on to every one of my children.

2. I make my bed every day, but I don't make the kids' beds.

3. I once fell from a cheerleading stunt while in highschool. We were doing an extension and the girls who were the base, dropped me. I ended up with a mild concussion.

4. I once sang a duet in a vocal contest with an older boy from youth group. When we hit the stage, I lost all sense of pitch and embarrassed myself completely.

5. In elementary school, I was such a little book worm, that I had read every single book in our little media center by the time I was in the 4th grade.

I tag:
Andrea in her little corner of the world.
Karen who made the big trade-off.
and Gretchen the nut about life.

A couple of things....

Five days ago, I bought six gallons of milk. There is 1/4 of a gallon left. I guess no one around here is lactose intolerant...yet. We will all have bones of steel.(I gave up on the buns of steel three kids ago.) What am I going to do when they are teenagers? Buy a cow?

Gemma is entering a new phase, a solid food phase. This phase is bittersweet for me, I think it's super cute when she grins at me with her four little teeth surrounded by a sweet potato goatee. I don't enjoy the hassle of baby food jars and bibs. Let's just jump ahead to the part where she can bite off a big hunk of steak since that's what we eat for dinner every night right? Come on molars, where are you? She also has begun with the "da-da-da-da-ba-ba-ba-ba-ma-ma-ma" I just want to gobble her up, she is totally gobbleable.

While we are on the subject of goatees, Caedmon drew a pretty good one on himself this morning with a navy blue magic marker. Very suave. All the ladies love a colorful faux goatee with matching sporadically-drawn-on leg hair.

What part of "laundry sorter" is my family not getting?





*Edited to add:

Due to the comments regarding the lack of pictures of the said goatee, I give you these pics from January that I just got developed:

Instead of the goatee, I give you a "mushcosh."



Instead of the leg hair, I give you "Ninja":



Instead of Gemma's goatee, I give you green beans and a death bite on the spoon:




I will give you pics of the goatees when I get them developed, probably in March. Nothing like a little delayed gratification!

Nate

Thirty one years ago, my mother-in-law was in the maternity ward of a hospital not so far away. It was a baby boy. A boy whom they named Nathan James. I can't even begin to thank them for the way they raised their son.

Nate and I grew up in the same town. We didn't know each other but our parents had mutual friends. It blows my mind to think that I probably played with my future husband when I was a preschooler. Weird how our lives crossed paths at an early age. Heck, I first met Nate at an early age! I was barely 14 and it was my first day of highschool. Study hall. The only thing I was studying was his beautiful eyelashes.

He has known my brothers since they were in elementary school. Luke since he was in diapers. (Sorry Lu) Nate has known his Mariah, his youngest sister-in-law her whole life. He even held her in the hospital when she was born. This year I have officially known Nate longer than I haven't known him.

Nate is such an amazing man and I celebrate this day, the day that he was born. I love being his wife, I can't imagine my life without him. I look around at our kids and I see little bits of their father in all of them. Tyler's gaming skills, Noelle's appetite, Camryn's cuddliness, Caedmon's eyelashes, Jack's ability to sleep anywhere, and Gemma's tenacity.

I love him despite that fact that he orders pepperoni pizza every. single. time.
I love him because he his mind is a steel trap. You want useless facts, ask Nate. You want useful facts, ask Nate. He learns things quickly and is good at them. Paintball, football, tennis, raquetball, chess, computer games, golf just to name a few. He changes diapers, even the really bad ones, he snuggles the kids when I have had enough clinging for one day. He does laundry, does dishes, and grows some seriously awesome grass. No, not marijuana people, real, old fashioned grass. You know, the lawn. I love him even though he prefers store bought, mass produced goodies to home made sweets. (But that sure makes for an easy birthday cake!)

Happy Birthday Nate. I hear the thirties are awesome.

Super Bowl XL

This is the only football game I watch all season. Three observations:

• The Steelers' Quarterback, I think his name is Roethlisberger, reminded me of Will Ferrell when he had his helmet on. When it was off, not so much. When it was on, all I could think of is "More cowbell!"
• The font they used for the numbers on the Steelers' jerseys just didn't look quite right. It's like they were trying too hard.
• The commercials weren't that great. A couple of them cracked me up, mostly the beer ones.

We skipped the halftime show and since we were TiVoing it, we fast forwarded through everything that was unnecessary. (Movie previews, local commercials, really boring commentators.) Now THAT'S the way to watch a football game.

*Scowl*

This was not one of my favorite days. Here are some adjectives in alphabetical order. Blustery, Chaotic, Confrontational, Desultory, Destructive, Exasperating, Irksome, Glowering, Provoking, Stealthy, Tiresome. These words may or may not apply to the people living under this roof. Ok, they do. In fact, I think each family member is represented in that list. But let's talk about the toddler, Mr. Two-year old himself.

Today, Jack kicked my butt. The kid is of Navy Seal caliber. I can't even begin to relay to you the various messes and mischief he was up to today. You wouldn't believe me anyway. He can scale sheer cliffs with his bare hands. He can find a way through locked doors. He laughs at the child gate I attempt to stall him with. Cookies in the pantry three shelves up? No problem, Jack can get them. Mom's purse hanging on a hook five feet above the ground? Where there's a will, there's a way, especially if there is gum involved. Does it really surprise me though when he has this kind of role model? The thing that is so annoyingly cute is that when you catch him red handed, he tells you to "Go away, go away, go away." As if he can pull some kind of Jedi mind trick. "These aren't the droids you are looking for. Move along."

The little culprit is in bed, along with his accomplices. The house is quiet, and I want sugar. I think I deserve it, don't you? Surprisingly, in the middle of this nerve grating day, I managed to make homemade chicken noodle soup. I'm not going to lie to you, it was an eleven on a scale of one to ten. Worth it? I'm undecided, every dish I own is dirty in the sink upstairs. I wish I could just call on the kitchen fairies to make a quick house call, but I don't think that's gonna happen. I think instead I will go nibble on the bag of chocolate chips that Jack cut open with a pair of Fiskars this afternoon. He's his mother's son, he know a good snack when he sees it.

Organized? Me?

Over yonder at the Big Yellow House, Chris is discussing organization and big families. Carmen, the Mom to the Screaming Masses also wrote about this. It got me to thinking about how organized/disorganized we are around here. We have some victories and some clutter, and we can always use more coat hooks.

A very, very, very organized real life friend of mine helped me out with my paper messes about a year ago. She set me up with a system that I love. We have a three ring binder with a section in it for each person in the family. When papers come home and they can't be thrown, they get three-ring punched and filed under who ever's name that paper applies to. Examples: lunch menus, spelling lists, nursery schedules, permission slips. You know, all the semi-important papers that seems to get lost in a pile when you need them most.

Another success is my In-Box. I bought a little shallow wire basket that sits on the counter and when the kids come home from school and empty their backpacks, they put all the papers right into that basket. It keeps them safe until I go through it later. Then I start in with the throwing, the three ring punching, and I save special art work or interesting stories. Those go in an accordion type folder.

Another system that is working for us right now is socks. FINALLY! You don't know how many times I have had to sit down for a room consuming one hour sock sort with my dear friend Dr. Phil. If only he actually helped sort socks! Now, I pair them up as they come out of the dryer and get them right into each person's basket. All loners are tossed into one of those rollie drawer organizer thingies with a drawer for boys socks, girls socks and parent socks. Each time I toss loners in, I check to see if the match is already in there. I think there are some sad old "widowed" socks in there who will never see their mate again.

A recent attempt at organization that turned into a big laugh is my new laundry sorter. I bought one of these attempting to replace the tattered old plastic hampers that are used for climbing on and rolling down the stairs. I only paid about fifteen bucks at Walmart for this new thing, and mine is a little different. Same type of thing though, it's canvas with three sections. Ok, the box said it holds six loads at once. Uuum, they must be doing laundry on some other planet because about four pairs of jeans is all that fits in each section. Is two pairs of jeans a load of laundry? Well, then I am WAAAY over loading my poor washer. Just a side note, one section DOES hold a four year old boy. It's a great place to hide during a game of hide-and-go-seek. Anyway, I laughed when I got the thing assembled. Six loads...grumble grumble.

So that is a glimpse into a couple of my attempts at organization. I'm off to organize myself some lunch.