365 Days

Day 39

2010-01-21T20:45:00.000-08:00

Good:

Today was the wedding of Lewis' cousin Nick and also officially "the most exciting day of Kylie's life." Today was the day she got to be a flower girl. She had been looking forward to this day for months and months and I'm pretty sure that she couldn't have been more excited (and more nervous) if it had been her actual wedding day. (Which.....good golly....is years and years away...I hope. I'm not ready to think about that just yet.) She looked beautiful in her red and white dress with her brand new patten leather Mary-Janes (with a heel, no less) and cute little wreath of flowers on her head. She was smiling from ear to ear as she got to walk down the aisle tossing rose petals from side to side and said she only got a "teeny" bit nervous in front of all of those people.

And that was all good and fun....but the pure comedy came later with Savannah. (Did we expect anything less.) On the drink table there were two kinds of drinks: Punch and Wine. And wouldn't you know that you could barely tell one from the other. So.....my Mother-in-law (being the wise woman that she is) told me that I might want to point out the difference out to my kids so that they didn't accidentally grab a glass of wine. I took Zach and Kylie over there and told them that if they needed a drink to take one from the area of the table marked "punch" and it was all good. Then later....as I was standing in line chatting it up with Lewis' Aunt and waiting for my chance to load hoards of hot wings onto my plate, I see, (out of the corner of my eye), Savy grab a glass from the "wine" section of the table and start heading back to sit down.(Whoopsie....guess I forgot to show Savannah where not to grab her drink from...)

Not wanting to make a scene (but still managing to make one anyway) I yell....."NOOOOOOO.....Savannah....." and go running across the lawn to intercept her before she took a big ol' swig. Then I very non-chalantly grab the glass away from her and tell her that I'll get her a new glass of punch. Later, at the table, as we were reliving the humor of it all, Lewis says to me: "What's the worst that could have happened? She would have taken a sip and found out it really wasn't what she thought it was?"

Well.....Lewis.....I prefer not to be arrested by the authorities for letting my four year old drink wine. And also......Hello??!!! She's FOUR. Four. Did we forget.....wine is NOT okay for a four year old? At any time. In any quantity.

The last little moment of humor came when it was time to give the toast. They made the announcement to gather round so that the bride and groom could toast and suddenly Savannah starts tugging on my arm..."Mom....I want some toast. Where's the toast? Will you go and get me some toast?" One would think she was a little bit tipsy....but let me re-stress.....she did NOT have a sip of the wine. I promise.

Bad:

This morning...in the wee wee hours of the morning....I was awakened three times in three hours by three different children. Are you confused? Well....I was too. I mean really....what was the deal?? After fumbling around in a sleep-deprived stupor...playing musical beds and taking care of one child after another I was ready to crawl back into bed and sleep until the cows came home. (Which would be a very long time for me seeing as we don't have any cows.) Alas....this was not to be. At 7:24 I hear this from my youngest two:

"Mom.....We're hungry."

"Then get a snack." I tell them. (Yeah....that's right. Now my dirty little secret comes out. I have been known to let my children eat goldfish to "tide them over until breakfast" at 7:24 in the morning. So sue me. I gots to survive somehow.)

Then....at 7:44

"I wanna get dressed."

"Then do it yourself." I mumble. I mean really. Who's kid's are these anyway?

And why, oh why, won't they just let me sleep???!!! I need a nanny. And a private chef. And some Ambien.....for me ( and maybe for the kids so that they won't keep waking up at all hours of the night!)

Is that so much to ask?

Ugly:

Oh.my.good.heck.

Today I was flipping through the channels of boring old Saturday T.V when I came across the marathon of a show called "Hoarders" on A&E.

Well.......5 hours later I was sufficiently horrified, disgusted, and dry-heaved out! I have never, ever, in all my years seen a show so terrible, horrifying, and strangely intriguing at the same time. One lady (among the many that I saw....like I said.....it was a marathon) had so many cats that when they came into the house to remove the cats they found over Seventy-Five cats! (That's right people.....not a typo....SEVENTY-FIVE cats.) And that's not even including the number of dead cat carcasses and skeletons that they found as they were cleaning the house.

Well.I.never.

I couldn't help but watch in a strange "can't look away from a car crash" sort of way. It was just so beyond anything I had ever seen before. And it was slightly terrifying because many of these people had not been hoarders all their life, but then something set them off and BAM! They were collecting crap and garbage and cats like it was no body's business. It left me wondering....could I possibly have the hoarding gene inside me just waiting to rear it's ugly head and send me on a downward spiral of collecting randomness and junk?

If you'll excuse me....I think I have some organizing to do.....

09.12.09

Day 38

2010-01-21T20:23:00.000-08:00

Bad:

Sigh. I'm afraid we've come to the end of an era....a "nap" era, if you will. After weeks upon weeks of no naps for either Savy and Braden, I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed. And I'm a little bit bitter about it....to say the least. I mean, Zachary napped until he was a whoppin' FIVE years old! Yeah, that's right....my oldest was napping when he was still in Kindergarten. (Granted, he woke up at the butt crack of dawn, but still.....) I keep thinking that Braden is too young to give up his naps, but in all honesty, he is three years old. And that's a pretty respectable age to give up naps, I guess. I'm just not quite sure that I'm ready to give up my naps. I'm pretty sure that the neighbors would frown upon me letting my kinds wander the streets while I curled up in my bed and slept the afternoon away. Then again....maybe not. I'm sure they've got my back.....

Good:

Today was Savannah's first day of preschool.....and it couldn't have come a moment too soon. Why must preschool and Kindergarten start two weeks after the regular school year starts? That's just cruel and unusual punishment for a little child who's used to having her siblings and friends around to play with. Especially when that little child is Savannah who is OLD for her age to begin with and spends the whole day following me around, talking my ear off, and just plain being BORED. She was SO excited to be able to go to Mrs. Wall's preschool again....and being one of the oldest, basically got to run the show.....that girl is BOSSY I tell you, but oh-so-

smart!

Today will also go down in the history books as my "first day of eating sushi." Things got a little freaky-deaky when I stepped out of my comfort zone and suggest to Lewis that this is what I wanted to have for dinner. I went pretty low key for the first time....not too daring.....only getting a California roll. BUT, I did try some of Lewis' and found that I quite liked it and can't wait until I get a little more bold with my sushi tastes. Bring on the raw fish, baby!

(Never mind. Strike that. I changed my mind.)

I'm not that freaky yet.......

Day 37

2010-01-05T08:26:00.000-08:00

Good:

For the past several months, one of the major roads that you use to get on the freeway from Springville has been under construction. This poses a serious pain-in-the-butt problem when needing to go to Wal-Mart for a couple of reasons. First, one must go the back way to get there, (which is not such a big deal, but still.....pain in the butt.) The other reason is that every time we get in the vicinity of the road that is closed down, Braden starts begging for me to drive by and see the construction vehicles. This wouldn't be so bad if it happened when I was driving to Wal-Mart seeing as Wal-Mart is evil and I rarely visit that place, but Savy's gymnastics class is right by Wal-Mart and so on Thursday every dang week this is Braden....

"Mommy......look.....a backhoe. A dump truck. A paver. Let's go see them. Can we please drive over there and see them?"

And every week I make an excuse....."I'm in a hurry. That road is closed so we can't go through. They won't let us go over there. All backhoes, dump trucks, and pavers have broken down....." (Did I say I make up an excuse? Making up a lie is more like it!)

So, today after I dropped Savy off at gymnastics, I had nothing better to do than make my little boys day. First, I braved all of the construction traffic and drove right through the midst of all the equipment so that I could get on the freeway. Well....if that wasn't the most exciting day of his life, I don't know what was. Then, we rode the freeway to the next exit, got off and what do you think was right there on the side of the road? Well.....if you guessed a paver, then you guessed correctly. So, like the most excellent Mom that I am, I pulled off the side of the road and let him look at it 'til his hearts content. It was exciting, let me tell ya......all black and covered with tar....the highlight of my day for sure. Then we flipped around at a stoplight and went past the paver AGAIN and got on the freeway a second time and exited off that construction exit so that "B" could see the equipment for a second time. Mother of the year? Yeah, I'm pretty certain I made it this year. I'm pretty certain that I just made his day a little bit brighter. The only question I have is this:

"Why do we keep spending all of this money taking Braden to Disneyland when he is perfectly content to watch construction equipment for free?"

Bad:

There is a strange phenomenon in my house. It involves four little kids, one Mom and food/drinks that are no longer my own. I can no sooner sit down to eat a plate of food, (whether it's delicious or downright mediocre), before they start milling around like birds waiting to be fed. What is so appealing about a Mother's food? Or any other person's food for that matter. My dad comes over for lunch at my house every Tuesday and this is one of our most common statements to each other: "We could be eating a T-U-R-D and still, they would want some!"

(Why the freakish spelling of the word turd, you might ask? I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the fact that if we said it out loud they would say, "A turd. What's a turd? Is it good? I want some?" So we continue to spell the word to each other. One day they'll wise up, I'm sure.....but maybe by then they'll stop eating my dang food!!)

Some days I can use this to my advantage....especially with the two younger kids. Do I want my kids to eat their fruits and veggies? Then pull out the baby carrots,apples and ice water to snack on, and before I know it they're filling their stomachs with the likes. But some days I want to hide in my closet and eat my coveted piece of cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory and not share it....BY DANG.....it's MINE. It's a double edged sword. So excuse me while I slip into the bathroom with my Hostess ding dongs.....I've got some eatin' to do.....IN PRIVATE!

Thankyouverymuch.

09.10.09

Day 36

2010-01-04T20:42:00.000-08:00

Bad:

I woke up this morning to five, count them, FIVE mosquito bites on my hind end. My derriere. My tush. My rectus endus. (I'm quite certain I just made that word up.) My butt. Some little pesky bug must have had a hay day in my pants while I slept and I was none the wiser. Dang.....those bad boys really itch. And unless my name is Homer Simpson, they are not in a location where I would like to be caught scratching. And not to deter you with a horrible mental image or anything, but have you ever tried to put Calamine lotion on your own butt. Yeah. Not the easiest task and not the prettiest picture. I shall end with that. And try to resist the urge to scratch. It.is.driving.me.mad.

Doh.

Good:

And now the continuation in what has become "The Smarshmallow Saga" around our house. Awoke this morning, and yep, you guessed it, the dog was still on our lawn. Mangy, dirty, calm....just begging to be pet with a stick or washed off with cold hose water. When the kids went outside to get on the bus they were simultaneously overjoyed to see the dog and saddened because they knew what was going to happen. Kylie looks at me with tears in her eyes and says" Promise Mom....Promise that you won't call the police to come and take away Marshmallow."

Oh mercy. What was I supposed to say to that??!! So I promised....(but not before I crossed my fingers behind my back.) What was up with this dog? Why was he attracted to my house? Why was he willing to put up with kids, and noise, and chaos, and all things Nuttall. And why wouldn't he just leave already?

Well, by lunchtime the dog had not moved and I was at this point, quite frankly, worried that the dog was going to die on my lawn and then I would have a REALLY big mess on my hands. So......not wanting to break a promise to my daughter, I walked over to the neighbor's house and made her call the police. See.....I didn't break my promise. Since the policeman was right in the area he was there in minutes and he knew exactly who the dog belonged to. Within 15 minutes of calling the police, someone was at my doorstep picking up Marshmallow and being very grateful and relieved that we had called in the first place. (Apparently it was someone who was dog sitting and the dog escaped and she was in full blown panic mode. I would be too. I mean, it's not like you can run out and replace a dog and try to pull a fast one over on the owners.....like I wanted to do when I killed my Dad's parakeet. I didn't, mind you, but I could have.) But I digress. Marshmallow's babysitter was overjoyed to see the dog. She informed me that the dogs name was Sammy (see kids, I told you it was an average name) and promptly took the dog home for what I assume was a bath, a gourmet meal, and plenty of lovin'. (Gee....that kinda sounds like a couple of dates I've been on. ) And I was left feeling like I had done my civic duty for the day..... Except I didn't make the call.... And I let the poor dog starve on my lawn for two days...... And my kids tried to give it a bath with freezing cold water...... But other than that, I totally rocked it. The question is.....will Kylie ever talk to me again?

(Geez.....I don't see why not. I'm not the one who made that call....right?) Fare -the- well Smarshmallow/Marshmallow/Sammy......we will remember you always.

09.09.09

Day 35

2009-12-30T20:28:00.000-08:00

Good:

What's {almost} as good as becoming a Mom? Becoming an Aunt. (In some ways it's better because I get to hold, snuggle and love a brand new baby and then leave him with his Mama and go home and sleep through the night.) Today my Sister-in-law (Aubree) had the cutest, sweetest, tiniest baby boy Macoy.... and I couldn't be more excited for her. No really. I'm not quite sure I have been more excited for someone that I know to have a baby. He was a long time coming and will make a perfect addition to their family. And did I mention how cute he is?Seriously. Oh the cuteness. And so stinkin' tiny. He weighed 5 lbs. 13 oz. and is a perfect little bundle of bliss. And I'm going to admit something.......for the first time since I've decided to be done having kids.....I got a little teary about it. Not that I regret my decisions or anything, but it made me think back to having my own kids. Kylie weighed exactly what Mac weighs and for a minute it made me think back to the tiny little baby girl that she was and reflect on how quickly she has grown and how fast time is passing.....And now I'm getting all weepy and depressing. Let's just say this: I am glad to have baby Mac join this crazy family and look forward to watching him grow. Enough said.

Bad:

Here is an ode to my poor, pet- less children. They are deprived of any joy and happiness that a pet can bring them because their Mom (and Dad.....I'm not taking all the blame on this one) just don't want pets in the house. I'm not quite sure what's wrong with me (I mean, us.) I mean, my parents let us have any and every pet within reason. Mice, gerbils, birds, cats, dogs, rabbits.....you name it, we had it at one time or another. I'm pretty sure that if we could have gotten a hold of a few hippogriffs we would have had those too. (Shout out to all my fellow Harry Potter nerds.....holla.) Alas, I am a pet Scrooge. And today that was made abundantly clear.

This morning while the kids were outside punking around and waiting for the school bus, they noticed a stray dog laying on our lawn. The dog was white.....(was being the operative word.) It was very, very dirty and very, very calm (which is a big plus in my kid's books as they are slightly terrified of dogs that are crazy or jump up on you.) and all it proceeded to do was lay around on our lawn. The kids tried to pet it with a stick. (Like I said.....dirty dog.) Then they proceeded to try to give it a bath with the hose. This is where I caught them in the act.

Calling Zach and Kylie over to the front porch.....

Me: " WHAT are you guys doing to the poor dog?"

Them: "Giving it a bath. It's dirty. See how dirty it is?"

Me: "Yeeeesssss. I see. However, are you a little bit chilly waiting outside for the bus to come?"

Them: "Yes."

Me: "Well.....how would you like it if I tried to wash you off with the hose?"

Them: Silence.( And point taken.)

So, thus far the poor dog had been pet with a stick and washed off with cold hose water. Lovely. (This is the exact reason I am not prepared to be a pet mommy. I have to babysit my own children.) Then, as Zach and Kylie get on the bus they yell "Mom....make sure you take care of Marshmallow!!!"

What the? Now they've named it. Oh crap. I may be up a creek with this one. So I wait and wait for the dang dog to leave. But it doesn't. All it wants to do is lay in the sun on my lawn and look so pathetic and hopeless and hungry and I can't do a dang thing about it! I am very hesitant to feed it because 1. I don't have any dog food and 2. I'm not quite sure I want the dog to think this is home. So I wait some more. Mostly I am waiting until the people who just moved in get home from work because I am thinking that "Marshmallow" belongs to them. So the kids get home from school and they are beyond overjoyed to find their dog still here. Marshmallow is starting to become a family name. They spend the afternoon outside petting the calm as calm can be dog (without a stick this time....I guess they got a little more brave) and plotting as to how they can convince me to the keep the dang thing! When the neighbors get home from work they quickly run over there only to find out that the dog DOES NOT belong to them. Crappity crap. Now their little brains start plotting. And at dinner time it becomes abundantly clear what they want me to do:

Them: "Mom....can"t we just keep Marshmallow? She's a good dog. We'll take care of her. We'll love her. Just you wait and see."

Me: "No you cannot keep Marshmallow. That dog belongs to somebody else. What if you guys had a dog (when hell freezes over) and that dog ran away and some other little boys and girls decided to keep your dog? Would you like that? I don't think so. And while I'm at it: Marshmallow? Really? Is that the best you can do? It's real name is probably something normal like Sam, or Max.

Braden: "But we love Smarshmallow."

(And right then and there I had half a mind to keep the dog so that I could listen to Braden call it "Smarshmallow" every day.) But I had to be strong.....

Me: "Kids....we need to find out who that dog belongs to. If it's not gone from our lawn by tomorrow morning I'm going to have to call the police and have them come and pick her up."

Them: Silence. (No really. Pure Silence.) And Oh.....were they MAD at me.......

Kylie didn't talk to me for the rest of the night. There were moans and groans of course, but mainly silence. And super mad kids. Mad at a Mom who just won't back down and let them keep the dang dog already. Mad because they wanted a pet and "Smarshmallow" fit the bill. Mad because the police would come and take their beloved dog away and who knows what would happen to her from there.

Like I said......I'm up crap creek. And those paddles? They're LONG gone.

09.08.09

Day 34

2009-12-29T21:46:00.000-08:00

Bad:

Anyone who knows me will be the first to say that I am a very independent woman. That Destiny's Child song......"all the women who are independent, throw your hands up at me"......could have been written about me. Really. And I rarely admit defeat. However, today I shall wave that white flag and admit.....Taking four kids by ones self to a self-proclaimed "relaxing" destination has turned out to be one of the least relaxing things I have ever done. I am a mother. I know how hard it can be to be alone with four children. I've done it before. But seriously, I was unprepared for how draining this was going to be on me. Here's what I heard approximately 4 million times at the pool today: "Mom, watch this. Mom watch me. Mom, see this cool trick that I can do." And let's not talk about the number of times that I had to take Savy and B to the bathroom. I swear......their pores absorb pool water. Well.....either that or their drinking it down like a sailor. (I prefer to imagine the former.) Also, it was virtually impossible to sit by the pool,read my book, and relax and enjoy. Maybe I'm just having a crappy day. Maybe my crappy night of sleep added to my crappy mood. Maybe I'm being a crappy Mom......but hey, at least I tried. Is it time to go home yet?

Good:

Well hello bed. I missed you. How's about you wrap your soft, comforting, loving arms around me and lull me into the perfect slumber. Oh yeah. That's gooooood.

The best part of coming home from vacation? Sleeping in my rockin' bed!

09.07.09

Day 33

2009-12-28T15:31:00.000-08:00

Bad:

Being the only people in the St. George condo pretty much means we get the run of the place, but since we were only spending two nights there, and since I didn't want to spend all of my time cleaning, and since I'm kinda lazy that way......I decided that the kids and I would all stay in the same room. Uh yeah. Pretty much not my greatest idea. Whenever I stay anywhere.....whether it be a four star hotel or camping.....I can plan on the first night of sleep being pretty terrible. There is really no exception to this. It's just the way it is. However, why I decided to spend my first "terrible" night in the company of my four children and their wicked sleep habits is beyond me. Let me just say.......not the greatest night of sleep I've ever had. We had a little bit of sleep walking, a little bit of sleep talking, a Mom who heard every rustle, grunt and groan, and children who woke up at the butt crack of dawn. Made for a pretty awesome night of sleep.....(in my dreams.) Here's to night two and a better night of sleep. Or perhaps some Tylenol PM.

Good:

I really, truly am in love with St. George. I love the relaxation that it provides for me whenever I visit. (Well, with the exception of the above sleeping saga.) For the most part, days in St. George are filled with sitting by the pool, snacking, and soaking up the sun....you know, the usual. Today we did just that. Here is our routine: Up and at 'em (at the butt crack of dawn) and breakfast down the hatches. Then, dressed in swimsuits, pool bag packed with a sundry of really unhealthy,( but definitely delicious and necessary), snacks (what's a pool party without the Funyuns?) , books to be read, flip flops on and out the door to the pool. Then we swim. And get out of the pool and dry off. And eats snacks. And hop in the pool again. And then out again for some sunning and reading. Then more snacks. Then a lunch break, more swimming, more snacking, more sunning and then the icing on the cake? Really, really, water-logged, sun soaked, purely exhausted children (and mama) which makes for a most excellent nights sleep. Peace at last.

09.06.09

Day 32

2009-12-26T16:41:00.000-08:00

Good:

Labor Day weekend and what's a girl to do? Lewis had Burgers Supreme catering events all weekend long, which ruled out going and doing anything fun as a family. So......I bit the bullet and decided to take the kids to St. George BY MYSELF. Four kids, little ol' me and a whole weekend ahead of us. We had a family event on Saturday morning, which postponed my leaving until Saturday afternoon, but with no school on Monday we'd be okay. We'd just sit by the pool, eat snacks, relax, watch movies-you know, the usual St. George itinerary. I was slightly nervous to drive to St. George all by myself.....mainly because I NEVER drive (I make Lewis do the dirty work) and all I ever do is read my book and sleep......both of which I could NOT do if I was driving myself and the four little wild ones down. After a quick stop to load up on plenty 0'snacks (and a Five hour energy shot for moi-again, couldn't have any sleeping on the job) we were ready to head down. The ride was pretty uneventful. The kids are all really good travelers....they just watch movies or sleep. (Plus we make the trip to St. George so frequently it's really nothing to them.) But here is the highlight of the trip........because I was the one in charge, and I was the sole driver and adult of the car, I got to pick the music that was listened to......and here's the clincher......I got to listen to said music AS LOUD AS I WANTED. And the cherry on top? I got to sing along to the songs at the top of my lungs and NO ONE said anything about it. (Take that Lewis.....you singing-along-to-songs-SCROOGE!) And just in case you're wondering......I should really be a professional play-list maker. Man......I sure do know how to put a good play list together. Not to toot my own horn or anything.......but my taste in music pretty much rocks. So, in case you ever need anyone to put a kick-a play list together for you, I'm your gal! No seriously. I really am. I'm that good. Toot. Toot.

Bad:

Here are the questions that are running through my mind as I sit in the St. George condo by myself (well....with my four kids too, but you know what I mean.....)

Will I be okay alone with four kids by myself?

Will I want to lose my mind?

Will I be patient enough to handle all the ups and downs? (After the trip to Wal-Mart tonight to stock up on supplies, I'm pretty sure that I can confidently answer this question with a resounding NO.)

Will I be able to keep the children entertained?

Will I be able to watch all the kids at the pool by myself?

What if I have to take Savy to the St. George Insta-care for the umpteenth time, what will I do with the other kids?

Will I eat myself sick and gain 5 lbs. ?

Would watching a show about a serial killer who kills serial killers while staying in the condo all by myself be such a good idea?

Will I get any sleep at all if I share a room with ALL of my kids?

These questions and many others remains to be seen. I guess the next few days will hold the answers to these riveting questions and many others. I'm on the edge of my seat with anticipation....and I'm sure you are too.( No really.....this is pretty exciting stuff right here.)

09.05.09

Day 31

2009-10-28T12:39:00.000-07:00

Bad:

Have I ever told you the story about how I scarred my child for life and caused her to have severe claustrophobia and a fear of being locked in places. Well.....I did. Unintentionally, mind you.....but I did nonetheless. We are not "spankers" in our house. We don't believe in it. So naturally, our most preferred method of discipline is a good old fashioned "time out." About a year ago I started to notice that whenever Savy would go into time out she would flip out. I mean, the girl would go ape and cry and scream and I would often think to myself, "Wow. That punishment is really effective." (Chalk one up to Mom.) It wasn't until a few months later when she refused to go to a friend's birthday party because he had child proof things on all of his doorknobs in his house, (and she was scared that she couldn't get out of the house) that I realized "Oh.my.gosh. She's got one of those child proof things on her doorknob on the inside of her room." (You know, so she couldn't let herself out of time out.) So......basically what I was doing was causing her pure pain, terror, and torture every time she went into her room for a timeout because she thought she was never going to get out of the room again. ( I'm a mean Mom, but c'mon. I'm not that mean.) Hence the really hysterical, "I think I'm going to die" crying every time she went to time out. (Yes....I'm pretty sure I'll be paying her therapy bills in several years.) So now.....every time she goes to timeout (yes, still using that method of punishment) I make sure that I leave the door open and make her sit on the bed.

Well.....today we were having one of "those days." And usually if I threaten timeouts it'll whip her right into shape (again, having scarred her for life and all that jazz) but today? No go. She was being naughty and she knew it. So? I whisked her right to time out and made her lay on her bed while I put Braden down for his afternoon nap. There were tears, (lots of them), and screams and hysteria and then? Nothing. So I look in her room and wouldn't you know it.....she had fallen asleep on her bed. So naturally, feeling like the most horrific mom in the world and realizing that I further have scarred her for life by letting her cry herself to sleep, I kissed her, covered her with a blanket and slowly tip-toed out of her room lest I wake the sleeping beast. I mean, I was sad and all......but two sleeping kids? That's a Christmas Miracle.

Good:

Let me reiterate: TWO SLEEPING KIDS (at once). Both of them napped for 2 1/2 hours and can I just say, the silence was loverly! It was almost like I didn't know what to do with myself. Who are we kidding.....I didn't know what to do with myself. Should I clean? Veg on the couch? Eat treats that I keep hidden from kids? Organize? Waste time on the computer? Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. And Yes. I got a momentary glimpse into my future and all I can say is IT WAS FABULOUS.

09.04.09

Day 30

2009-10-28T10:10:00.000-07:00

Good:

Tonight Lewis had to work late at work..... so as soon as I put the kiddos to bed I was able to start my date with my favorite serial killer: Dexter Morgan. It was just him, me, and my cherry limeade and oh baby.........life was gooooooood! I know I am sick and twisted. I know that the Showtime drama "Dexter" should not have such a hold on me, but man......it does. Whoever thought that a show about a serial killer who kills (what else) serial killers would be so DANG addictive? Who ever thought that I would be rooting for a serial killer and praying he doesn't get caught? Not I, says the little pig.....yet I find myself loving every second of that show. Maybe there is something wrong with me after all?????

Bad:

The brownies and I had a stand-off and the brownies won.

Me:0
Brownies: 1

Why is losing weight so hard? Why is dieting such a &*$#! ?{Insert handy expletive here.}
Why can I never resist the lovely, gooey, chocolaty powers of a brownie????

I am so shamed.
And 30 pounds overweight.
Suck.

09.03.09

Day 29

2009-10-28T09:43:00.000-07:00

Bad:

Dare I even say this? Should I even put this out there? I know it's only (September 2nd.)* I know I have a good month and a half before things start to cool down, but really.....I think I am ready for that. GASP. Now we all know the "love" that I have for the Winter season. (And by "love" I mean really, really intense hatred.) I don't like the snow. I hate to be cold. All the days start to feel the same. (Of course, the Winter brings Christmas.....which I love.....my Anniversary.....and Valentine's day.....but can't we do that without all the snow and cold? ) So, that brings me back to the beginning. Did I really just say that I'm ready for things to cool down? Well.....today I am. Mostly because I am sick of kids being outside all day. I am sick of kids knocking on my door asking to play. I am sick of not knowing where my kids are at any given moment. I am sick of my kids trying to beg snacks off neighbors. I am sick of neighbors trying to beg snacks off me. I am sick of kids asking to play inside the house when it is a beautiful day and they should be playing outside because in a month and a half they will not be able to play outside anymore. (Phew.....how's that for a run-on sentence.) I think mostly, though, I just want my kids by me. I want them to be content playing with each other for awhile. I want to hunker down in my house with a blanket, a lovely beverage and a good book and have my kids do the same.

Is that too much to ask? I don't think so.

*Actual date I'm journaling about

Good:

Well, what initially started out as a bad thing, turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The other day I was gnawing down some good old fashioned cinnamon bears......(I mean I was pounding those bad boys)......when I felt something funny. When I pulled the half-chewed cinnamon bear out of my mouth there was my crown staring me straight in the face. (Yes, that's right. I have a false tooth. Don't judge. Just blame it on my crack-pot, crook of a dentist who had me get a root canal when one probably wasn't necessary. But NO......I'm not bitter or anything.) So.....I called my current dentist (not the crack-pot) straightway and scheduled an appointment to have that bad boy glued back on.......or at least that's what I thought.......
Well, long story short.......there was some decay under the crown, but it was just tiny, so he was able to fix it in no time at all, glue that bad boy on, and I was good to go.....Crisis adverted. Gosh I'm so glad my current dentist isn't a greedy crook!

09.02.09

Day 28

2009-10-13T14:29:00.000-07:00

Good:

Sometimes a little piece of inspiration just comes out of the blue. Or in this case.....on the container of the Daisy sour cream. Have you ever bought a tub a Daisy sour cream? Well....not only is their low-fat sour cream the best in the west, fo' shizzle, but apparently they also market toward people looking for a little tidbit to brighten their day. When you open a brand new package....right there, under the lid on the aluminum seal that keeps all the wackos from poisoning your food, is printed little snip- its of motivation. This is what mine said today when I opened the sour cream for "taco night."

"Little acts of kindness can add up to a lifetime of happiness."

Poignant, huh? But really, when you think about it, so very true. And then.....to top it all off, my dear sweet husband made a Cherry Limeade for his tired, worn out wife tonight and he DIDN'T EVEN MAKE HIMSELF ONE. So, not only did I get the very best Cherry Limeade in the world ('cause really? NO ONE makes them better than him) but a reminder that sometimes the little things make all the difference in the world.
And imagine.....him making me a lovely beverage on the exact day that I came across this quote. It was, like, fate or something.

Bad:

So I'm just going to put this out there: WHAT IS IT WITH MY KIDS WHENEVER I GET ON THE PHONE??!!?? Seriously. They act like little monsters every time I try to have a conversation. And believe me, they are not picky. Whether I am having a conversation with the Sears repair man or my best friend they act the same. They are pretty much equal opportunity monsters. And to top it all off.....they must have phone radar or something. They can be outside playing it up with their friends and I will get on the phone ready to have a long, juicy conversation with my sister or bff and suddenly there they are crowding around, maybe one or two of them screaming their heads off, asking for snacks and whining and just acting like little savages.
I have tried EVERYTHING. I have snapped my fingers and pointed ( as if you say, "shut your yapper") like my dear old Mom used to do.....but to no avail. I have locked myself in my room to try and get some peace and quiet, but all that happens when I do this is the kids panic and scream and cry and try to kick my door down. I have given into to all their crazy antics of asking for brownies at 8:00 in the morning and letting them drink all of my morning diet coke.....but still.....IT PERSISTS. It's almost like they can't stand to have my attention taken away from them for one little second. What can I do? I'm at my wit's end. And quite frankly, I'm sure the Sears's repair man is wondering just what kind of psycho kids I'm raising over here......
09.01.09

Day 27

2009-10-10T16:02:00.000-07:00

Bad:

Remember how I said I have a "following through with things" problem? I am starting to wonder if I am ever going to catch up on this journal/blog. Now what I'm going to say is probably not going to make sense to anyone but me (and I'm starting to wonder if it's going to make sense to me) but I'm going to say it anyway. As I sit and write this today, it is 10.10.09. The date that I am currently journaling about is 08.31.09. When I wrote this down in my journal that I jot my ideas down in I was 20 days behind on my journaling. (That was back in August.) Right now.....who knows how many days I am behind.....I don't want to count, it's too depressing. Suffice it to say: I am really, really behind. But, my fellow readers, don't dismay. I HAVE NOT given up. Mostly because I actually DO want to follow through with something. I am always saying that this blog is mainly for me.....a way for me to journal daily that I will actually DO. And once it is under control, journaling about one good thing, one bad thing, once a day is totally manageable. That's why I am doing this for me.....and no matter how behind I get I will keep on keepin' on so that for once in my life......I can have said I actually followed through with something.

Confused? Yeah. Me too.

Good:

Nothing does this Mama's heart more proud than seeing what good little readers I have produced. They are definitely their Mother's children. (Sorry Lewis, but I can count on one hand the books that you have read while we've been married. I know it's not your thing....that's fine with me.) Lately, the two younger kids have been taking a real interest in reading and having me read books to them and I am constantly reminding myself to sit down, chill out, and read them a book when they ask. I love it that Braden has finally reached the age where he can settle down for long enough to sit through a story or two.....even if it is the same old book time and time again. I love it that Savy will sit on the couch with a pile o' books on her lap and read for hours and hours. (Hmmmm.......sounds like someone I know VERY WELL. Only this Mama wishes she had more time to do just that.) I love it that all of my kids think that taking a trip to the Library is almost as good as taking a trip to Disneyland. (Okay, not quite, but it's definitely better than taking a trip to the Carney.) I hope that this love for reading will just grow and grow and continue and continue......

08.31.09

Day 26

2009-10-10T15:43:00.000-07:00

Good:

Today is the second Sunday in a row that I have had a Sunday nap. Now, we've already established how much I love me a good nap, but I especially LURVE me a Sunday nap. Why you might ask? Because I don't get it often enough. My days on Sundays are CRAZY, and without me getting into the whole spiel let's just say that most Sundays you'll find me muttering" A day of rest? Yeah right." First things first, let's clear this little bit of information up.....when I say nap......I mean NAP in the most literal sense. No tricky word-play and innuendos here.....No "Afternoon Delight" if you catch my drift......A NAP. No more. No less. Secondly......did I tell you how much I love naps? I did? Oh well. I do. I'd take a literal "nap" over the figurative "nap" any day......it's just how I roll.

Bad:

Let's just clear this up straight-away. Sleeping until 7:24 a.m is NOT my idea of sleeping in. Especially when my church starts at the horrible hour of 1:00 p.m and I have NO GOOD REASON to be up at the butt crack of dawn on a Sunday morning. Can someone just throw me a bone for ONCE and make my children SLEEP IN! (Maybe a little Benadryl....huh? Huh? Just kidding. I jest......kinda.) This morning I was so rudely awoken by coughing children which most of the time I have sympathy for but was at the end of my rope because the coughs had been lingering.....and lingering......and lingering. (Cue Cranberries song here: "Do you have to let it linger. Do you have to let it linger?") You know when someone that you love dearly has a hacking cough and they just cough and cough and it gets on your very last nerve? (Please tell me I'm not the only one with this problem?) Well, after two weeks of listening to FOUR kiddos with the coughs.....I have had enough! Why, oh why, did they ever take that good cough syrup that doctor's used to prescribe off the market? Some people that insist on abusing things like that and accidentally OD'ing their child just have to go and ruin it for the rest of us! It's going to be a very long day. I can just tell.

08.30.09

Day 25

2009-10-07T13:29:00.000-07:00

Good:

Today we had Lewis' company party up in Park City at the Olympic Park. Now, you might think of me as less of a Utahan with what I'm going to admit to you. From time to time, I forget that SLC actually hosted the winter Olympics. In 2002, I was in a stage of my life where I had two young kids, a husband in school, and not even a second to breathe, let alone relish in our little states "moment of glory." I participated in the Olympic festivities exactly ONE time by heading up to SLC to go and see the Bare Naked Ladies in concert and what I remember more about that night was after I came home and Zach and I got the stomach flu and we laid in my bed and took turns throwing up all night. I guess you could say I really didn't get into the Olympic "spirit." Well......that being said, you can automatically assume that I have never been to the Olympic Park in Park City. Why? I'm not quite sure.....we just haven't. So naturally we were all excited to go up there and spend the day and see what the park had to offer. Plus.....the park was being reserved and so only employees and their families would be there and also......his company paid for everyone to have unlimited rides on the zip line, bob-sleds, alpine slides, bounce houses and so forth. We had a fun day doing a couple of those things. (We wished we could have done more, but the lines were waaaaayyyyy long and plus the age of some of our children limited us.) The very highlight of the night came after the terribly mediocre dinner we had (during which Lewis and I critiqued the catering company and listed the ways in which Burgers Supreme catering could have done a better job. Sorry. But it's true.) when we got to watch the Ariel ski jumpers put on their show. It really was quite amazing and impressive and a good time was had by all especially Braden who cried hysterically when the show was over because he didn't want it to end.....Then he promptly added "Ariel ski jumper" to his list of current career aspirations.....and hung the poster on his wall where he can look at it every day and talk about the day that he gets to become a ski jumper.

Bad:

Only one teensy, tiny little blemish on an otherwise great day occurred when my family was waiting up at the top of the mountain for the chairlift to take us back down. The kids and I rode to up there to see if we could convince Z-man to go down the zip line with Kylie and Dad, but after seeing the height and speed he promptly backed out. (And I don't blame him. His dear old Mother has a fear of heights and only just recently has become better at stepping out of my comfort level.) Well......for some reason they had this wacky rule that would only allow one chair full of people going down at a time. So we had to stand there and wait for the chair to get all the way to the bottom before someone was allowed to load again. Pain in the butt, but oh well. What can I do about it? So I'm standing there trying to be patient and this lady and her child, and what I assume to be the child's grandma get in line behind me. And then the complaints start. "Why do we have to wait in line? Why do we have to only let one chair go at a time." You know.....those sorts of things that really don't matter, yet some people can't help complain about. Pretty soon it's Zach's turn to get on the lift. (I was having him and Braden ride together so that I could ride with Savy, and plus.....I trust Zach implicitly. I had no doubts for Braden's safety.) So I am standing across the way from them and the lift operator (who I'll admit was a total tool) is standing by them and I say, "Could you just help him lift the little guy on there? (referring to Braden)" and he looks at me and says, "Am I allowed to do that? Lift him on there, I mean?"

Well at that moment the chair swings around for them to get on and Zach is trying to lift Braden up and get him on the chair and the chair lift operator (punk) is still humming and hawing over the fact that I asked him to DO HIS JOB and debating whether or not he is "allowed" to help kids on the chairlift because of liability reasons. (Like a said: a total tool.) But that is beside the point, because now the lady that was in line behind me goes into full blown PANIC-MODE and she rushes over to Zach and Braden and plops Braden on the chairlift and tries to get the bar down for them but is too late and the chair just takes off down the mountain. And she screams, at the very top of her lungs behind them...."Hold on to him.....hold on to him. (referring to Braden)" And down the mountain they go. And I am left at the tops to deal with the likes of her.

So she looks over at me and says, "Those weren't your children?" (emphasis on the question, but she knows darn well they were my kids.) "No, they're mine, " I respond. "Well.....you're awfully calm, "she says back to me. "Um yeah. The situation was under control. And you, quite frankly, are stressing ME out.....and I NEVER get stressed." I respond back. Well if that didn't shut her up quickly. But then I overhear this little nugget that the Grandma says to her Grandson...."Don't be scared.....your Mama's going to put you on the lift because she's a good Mom......she won't anything happen to you because she loves you."

Shut.The.Front.Door.
Can you believe the nerve of some people? Here's what I should have said back to her, but hey, I'm non-confrontational:

{Talking to the one and a half year old} "Sure, your Mom's a good Mom, but watch out. She'll probably wipe your butt until your 8. Also, good luck the first time you fall off your bike. And I hope you really love her, because I'm pretty sure she's going to be escorting you to your Senior Prom."

Geesh. Some people.

08.29.09

Day 24

2009-10-07T12:49:00.000-07:00

Good:

So I have decided to jump on the couponing band wagon. I know....how cliche, huh? It seems like it is all the rage these days, and who of us couldn't stand to save a few bucks every now and again? When my sister was in town I had her help me get all organized and show me the ins and outs of the couponing world.....and today I set out on my own to spread my wings and fly......and I was terrified! I had my list of items to buy.....my coupons to go with them.....and the place in which to go to receive some stellar deals. I just wasn't sure I had the cojones to go through with it. (Looking back I don't know what I was so afraid of. I probably worried that some cashier at Walgreen's would call me out on all my great deals, tell me that NO I could not get this chap stick for free, and send me on my merry way.) Plus, couponing can be kind of complicated. I mean, it doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure it out, but there is a little bit of a learning curve. Trust me. So......I stood there in line with what I lovingly refer to as "butt sweat" (Thanks Jenny for that term) running down my derriere and my stomach in knots, but guess what? I DID IT!
Now, before ya'll go off and all me some kind of crazy coupon lady.....let me explain just a couple of things. No, I do not make a list of all my deals and post them on my blog and facebook account. No, I do not fight with cashiers to save a couple of cents. No, I do not drive all around the town looking for the one Walgreen's that still has that free baby lotion (okay, I may have done that once, but I quickly learned my lesson. I do not have time for those sort of antics.) I have, however, been able to save about $100 a month, by doing my part......what little it is. And hey, maybe one day before you know it......I will become a crazy coupon lady. But as for now, I'm just happy that today I was able to get something like $48 worth of items for $7 and some change!

Bad:

So I'll admit it. I'm a pushover. And probably not the strictest of Mom's. And I probably let my kids get away with too much. But I'll just say this.......sometimes you just have to pick your battles. Does your son want to wear the same outfit for three days in a row? Does it really matter if he does? I mean, other than smelling a little rank, what's it going to hurt? It is this exact frame of mind that has got me into trouble and now I am trying to discipline my two sassin' kids and lay down the law and boy.....it is NOT pretty. Today I switched from "go-with-the-flow-laid-back-mom" to "drill-Sargent-you-will-jump-when-I-say-jump-mom." It was a rude awakening for Braden and Savy when they found themselves in time -out three times BEFORE 8:30 in the morn. (I told you, I was laying down the law today. No joke.) I guess what I am really trying to curb is their tendency to talk back. I can take most anything with a grain of salt.....but that talking back and whining? OHHHHHH.....that really gets my goat. So today, a little tough love was in order. Now what remains to be seen is if they can take me seriously. I am SO not the drill sargent type.

08.28.09

Day 23

2009-10-07T10:54:00.000-07:00

Good:

Here's a commonly known fact about yours truly......I LOVE sleep. Love it. Love it. Love it. And I, quite frankly, don't get enough of it. (Hey.....I'm a poet.) Some might say (coughLEWIScough) that I place too much value on sleep. What ev. I have always been that way. Just ask my parents. I was always the child that would go to bed without being asked. I never really had a bedtime.....I would just go and put myself to bed when I was sleepy. ( I was such an angel, wasn't I?) And except that short bout in collage when I would stay up until all hours of the night hanging out at the boy's dorms (Hi Dad and Mom.....NOW the cat comes out of the bag) I still go to bed fairly early. I mean, a gal needs her beauty sleep, doesn't she?Plus, Hello??!! Four kids over here.....sleep is a precious commodity. So.....along those same lines.....I really, really LOVE me a good nap. Here is my favorite thing to do from time to time. I take my phone off the hook, put the house on lock down, and snuggle up in bed with one or two of my kids. I especially loved this when I was pregnant and had an excuse to nap daily, but now, with no excuse I can only rationalize it from time to time. Today was the perfect day for such rationalization.....therefore.... A TWO HOUR nap was just what the doctor ordered. There's nothing like it.....to me, it's just heavenly. (Again with the poetry.....I kill myself......)

Bad:

First things first.....let me just start out by saying that I am NOT pregnant. I have some members of my family that may question this part of the post, mainly because of what I call the "Chloe dream.".......(this being a VERY vivid dream I had a while back about me being preggers and giving birth to a child named.....Chloe....duh.) Well, some of us thought this dream might be prophetic....that it might mean something. (Which quite frankly, scared the living tarnation right out of me because I am most certainly done with that baby making bidness.) Well.....today, I thought I was pregnant. You know that sick feeling that you get when you're pregnant that most of the free world calls morning sickness (and if you are one of those fortunate enough to NOT get that feeling.....then dang you straight to heck....) but when you're not preggers you just call the "blahs"? Well.....today I felt that ALL DAY LONG. Not throwing -up sick, just pukey feeling and extremely....well.....BLAH. Not pleasant. So I called Lewis.

"I'm sick"......(emphasis placed on the whiny voice.)

"What's wrong, " said my dearest hubby.

"I feel blah. Pukey. Not good. Like I might be pregnant." I respond (still at my whiniest. I mean, I'm sick and still taking care of kids. Not a good mixture. Not a happy mama.)

" Sweet. Maybe you are pregnant. That would be awesome." He says.

{Not even in the mood to humor his antics} "Yeah. Awesome. Too bad I'M NOT PREGNANT. So sorry to dash your hopes."

"Oh well," he deadpans, "There's always next month. Maybe we could get some good practicing in?? Whadda think?.......Honey.....hello.....are you there? Did you hang up on me. Figures."

(Author may have taken poetic license with above conversation to spice things up a bit!)

So this whole episode got me thinking.....what would I do if I were pregnant? I would be lying if I said that since the big snip, (V-Day) the thought hasn't crossed my mind once or twice. I also would be lying if I said that I hadn't taken a pregnancy test or two since closing down the baby factory. I guess there's always that what-if in the back of my mind. I mean, it has happened. Everyone and their dog has a story to tell about that......Just please, please, please.....don't let it happen to me.

No really. That would be bad. Really bad.
Please tell me the Chloe dream was just a fluke. Please.

08.27.09

Day 22

2009-10-07T09:38:00.000-07:00

Bad:

Is it just me or is it virtually impossible to keep a house clean with four little rug rats running around? Today I spent hours cleaning the house......I mean it took ALL DAY.....I didn't shower until the evening (which is gross, but necessary) and about 23 minutes after I had finished cleaning, it looked as if a bomb went off! I mean seriously......it is such a thankless job. I always say that cleaning with kids is like taking one step forward and two steps back. Just when you have one mess cleaned up, you turn around and BAM.....another disaster is staring at you right in the face. It's enough to make me want to lose my ever-lovin' mind! And while I'm on my little soap box of complaining......why does it take so DANG long??!!?? I do not live in the largest of houses. It should take me a couple hours....TOPS.....and yet, every time I clean my house I have to chalk that day up to a loss. I can pretty much expect that I will spend the day in my sweats, my hair pulled back in a pony, bra-less (shhhh.....don't tell) and un-showered. So, um, yeah.....try your hardest not to come and visit me on this day because 1. I will not look like a jewel and 2. I will {most} likely not ACT like a jewel and 3. I will be very close to losing my EVER-LOVIN' mind!!! Consider yourself warned......

Good:

A couple of weeks ago while I was chilling at Lew's softball games, I struck up a random conversation with a guy about reading. Weird, right? Well.....not quite. He was reading a book and I asked him if it was any good (because fellow readers MUST unite) and our conversation turned to a little website called "Paperback Swap." The whole premise of this website is a place where people can post their books that they no longer want to keep and people can request those books and in return you get credits to request books that you want to read. Have I confused you sufficiently? (I'm pretty sure I just confused myself.) It sounded like a great idea....(one that I wish I would have thought of myself so that I could be making the big bucks and I could hire a maid and avoid situations like the aforementioned post)......but I initially balked at the idea. (Shhhhh......lean close and I will let you in on a little secret. I loooovvvvveee books. All books. And once I buy them......they are MINE. They become like my babies. And what kind of mother just flippantly gives her babies away for different babies? I don't know how you were raised but c'mon.....have some common decency. ) BUT the more I thought about it, the more it weighed on my mind. I could use some new books to read. I'm sure I have SOME books that aren't worth anything to me. So.....before I knew it I was down in my bookshelves, rustling though my "babies" and tossing the unwanted ones into a pile. And then....before I knew it I was listing those books on the website and eagerly awaiting the new books that I had requested. I'm pretty callous, right? But in my defense.....if you've read one Oprah's book club choice....you've read them all. (What was I thinking buying all of those crappy books??? Sorry Oprah, but you KNOW I'm right.) Well.....today was the grand day of all days because I got my very first swap in the mail and I am currently awaiting TEN more books to come to my doorstep and I am very excited because not only will I have a while new stack of books to read, but it's like Christmas when I check my mail! And that, right there, is worth giving up a few of my "babies." Just don't call the authorities......

08.26.09

Day 21

2009-09-21T19:27:00.000-07:00

Good:

Zachary and Kylie have finally reached that special age of maturity......you know, that age when you can send them unassisted into the grocery store with a couple of dollars to buy a loaf of french bread for dinner. And all I can say is: It's about dang time! It is one of the great moments in a Mother's life when you can take these little wee ones that you've raised for so long and turn them out into the world to do all the little tasks that you despise. It's like the circle of life or something. (I think.) Zach was a wee bit nervous to do it. He thought the cashier would hassle him, ask him where his mom was, take his money and run. So......I talked Kylie into going in with him (there's safety and comfort in numbers) and they were good to go. After a quick trip in and out (and no pedophiles lurking in the aisles of Ream's to grab them.....they were okay Dad, I promise) they were out with the loaf of bread and pleased as punch that they were able to do it for me. After all, that's why we have kids, right? Child labor.

Kidding.....kidding......

Bad:

If you were going to purchase a flat iron for $100 dollars.....here are some of the things that you may expect it from it:

Make your hair straight and silky smooth
Guarantee a good hair day every day
Clean your house for you
Do your taxes
Babsit your kids
Tell you how pretty you look
Wipe your bum
Be covered in gold and diamonds

And most importantly:

Have an automatic shut off!

Apparently the makes of the Chi flat iron think different from me. (That's why if I were to be in the inventor of a flat iron it would do all those things and more!......for only $9.95) Alas, if I were to pick one of the things from the above list that I desired the most it would be the automatic shut-off (although the cleaning the house is verrrrrry tempting.) I would pick this feature mainly because I am a complete air-head when it comes to shutting off hot appliances and therefore an automatic shutoff would be very handy.....to say the least.

Today I left my flat iron on for hours and hours, and after I discovered that it had been on practically the WHOLE day long, I had a momentary minute of panic thinking of all the things that could have happened with the flat iron. I mean, those bad boys get really, really hot. A child could have burned themselves, I could have burned myself, my house could have burned down. (It was a pretty stressful minute.) But then I was over it. And the only thing left fuming was me. I mean seriously? A HUNDRED dollar flat iron that doesn't have an automatic turn off? That's just criminal.

08.25.09

Day 20

2009-09-21T19:03:00.000-07:00

Bad:

I've discovered that it is probably not the best idea to take four kids miniature golfing. Not only is it impossible for Lewis and I to even play along with them (so we got smart this time.....and didn't) but it is an even worse idea to continue playing with four kids BY MYSELF because Lewis had to head off to a softball game. Let's just say it was not a grand idea. It was pretty much a golfing free-for-all....with no rules whatsoever.....and kids hitting balls wherever and whenever they dang well pleased. It's a good thing that we decided not to keep score because I'm pretty sure that each of the kids would have shot a 208 for 18 holes.......And that's being generous. Oh well. It was all in my name of fun.

Good:

Well. I have been holding off for a few days now just to make sure that I don't announce this prematurely....................................................................................................................................
..........................................................................................................................................................
(And I'm sure that what I'm going to say is really going to surprise you. And it is shocking, and surprising, and wonderful and Lewis and I couldn't be more pleased. And I bet you're just DYING to hear my announcement.......so I guess I better get on with it.................................)

Ahem. Drum roll please................................................................................................................

Our little Braden is finally potty trained! Ta Da!

(What? Did you think I was going to announce something else?)

I know it's been a few entries since I've talked the logistics of potty training. And I know ya'll sorely miss it, but I'm going to keep this entry detail free. (Plus I've talked enough potty talk to last me for months and months......maybe even years.) Let's just say this......It has been FIVE whole days and nary an accident has been had.......#2 and all! I think he's finally grasped the whole "If you poop on the toilet, not only is it much easier, but also, a monster will not come out of the toilet and grab you in" idea. Seriously, I don't know what the boy was so afraid of. He was terrified to drop a deuce in the toilet......take the kids for a swim.....baptize a Lamanite.....you get the general idea. (Oopsie. Sorry. I forgot that this entry was supposed to be detail free. Oh well.) BUT, I am so proud to say that we have definitely overcome this hurdle and now my little Beepers can move on to bigger and better things. Without diapers. And poopy bums. In his cute little underwears. Good work B! (And it's about dang time!)

08.24.09

Day 19

2009-09-19T19:36:00.000-07:00

Good:

Approximately four times a year I get the very distinct pleasure of having my husband home with me the WHOLE day on Sunday. I feel as though it is a little gift from above and treasure those days. (Who thought that I would ever treasure Stake Conference, but low and behold, I do.) Well fortunately for me, we got a whole unexpected Sunday in the form of a Temple Dedication to treasure as well. And believe me, I did. When Lewis is home on Sunday I get to guilt trip him into doing all sorts of things he doesn't normally do because of my Sunday "single mom" status. I get to sleep in while he gets the kids breakfast. I get to take a nap in the afternoon, which I absolutely ADORE. I get to bamboozle him into making the majority of dinner by himself by getting him to grill on the BBQ. It's fantastic I tell you! Like a holiday in diguise.

Bad:

Hi. My name is Florrie and I am a glue gun amateur. One would think that I am all crafty and such......I mean, I'm Mormon. And a stay-at-home Mom. And I like to scrapbook. But apparently these are not prerequisites to being proficient with a glue gun. Tonight, as I was trying to finish up the bows from the bow party I had a few days ago, I freakin' burnt the literal crap out of my finger. But, in my defense, here's how it played out:

I was sitting at the desk in the office all minding my own business, trying to do my own thing ......which is apparently an invitation for all FOUR children to be milling around, watching what I am doing, and stressing me out! So, low and behold, I got all flustered and touched the scorching hot glue from the glue gun and Voila! A burnt, blistered, throbbing, pointer finger. It was not pretty. And not fun. And it hurt.....badly. And I vowed to never use a glue gun again. Only, now, how am I going to finish these bloomin' bows?????

08.23.09

Day 18

2009-09-19T19:01:00.000-07:00

Bad:

So pretty much at least once a year you can count on me crying as if my heart would break. This said crying usually occurs when it comes time to say goodbye to my sister. And today was that fateful day. I dread it. In fact, the whole time she is here I am usually thinking about the goodbye. Will it be horrible this time? Will I try not to cry? When will be the next time that I see her? I try my darnedest to have fun when she is here, but I can't help the big looming time clock that keeps ticking down until the final day. It's pure torture. Well, early this morn I headed on down to the 'rent's house to say goodbye and the whole way there I am chanting this mantra: Be strong. Don't cry. Be strong. Don't cry. Well wouldn't you know it: dang mantra didn't work! Go figure. It was pretty much a train wreck. There were hugs and tears and goodbyes and tears and I tried to make it short and sweet because really? There were lots of tears. In fact, when I got in the car to drive home I was crying so hysterically that I'm pretty sure my four kids were all thinking: "Geesh Mom. Get it together." But I just couldn't help it. It was pure, unadulterated UGLY CRYING. You know, where your face get's all ugly and your lip is quivering and the tears just keep flowing. (As opposed to PRETTY crying, where you are looking fresh as a Georgia peach and one lone tear runs down your cheek. I am NOT a believer in this kind of crying. Go hard or go home, I always say.)
Anyway, I pretty much had a day filled with tears, semi-depression, and thoughts of when I'm going to see her next. That's the WORST part.....not knowing. I sure hope it's not another year. I'm not sure I can handle that. So P.S Lewis....how's about flying me out to visit my sister for my B.Day. (Hint. Hint.) Just a thought.

Good:

Tonight I had a much needed date with Lewis. Now you might laugh when I tell you that our date was to the Elder's Quorum/High Priest dinner. You might also laugh when I tell you that I tried my little heart out to get him to ditch this partay for better options. (Of which I could think about 100) But No......Lewis thought that we should go, and go we did. And low and behold....we actually had fun. Mostly I think it was because we were able to get away from the four maniacs for awhile and just spend some time with each other. In mean, it wasn't our greatest date of all time. It didn't even hold a candle to the time that we got an outdoor couples' massage in Hawaii....now that's a great date FYI. But tonight, to get me out of my sister-leaving-semi-depression....it seemed to work just fine.

08.22.09

Day 17

2009-09-19T18:22:00.000-07:00

Bad:

"I'm so tired. I haven't slept a wink. I'm so tired. My mind is on the blink. I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink. No no no."

God Bless you John, Paul, George, and Ringo. You certainly said it best on a day like today. Well....except for the drink part......(unless they meant diet coke when they wrote that song.) I am REALLY tired today. Exhausted. Drained. It must be from all the partying I've been doing while my sister has been in town. I've really been burning the midnight oil, if you know what I mean. And I am NOT a night person. (Come to think of it.....I'm NOT a morning person either. If you don't believe me, ask Lewis. He told me that I was going to grow up and become a crotchety old grandma if I kept up my ornery ways. True story. Let's just say, I was less than happy with that observation.) But anyway, back to the here and now. Where was I? Oh yeah. Tired. Me. Very. In fact, horror of all horrors (and this may tell you exactly how tired I was) I DID NOT even drink a cherry limeade tonight. Gasp. Now that's just messed up. Seriously.

Good:

Tonight, as a family, we went to the Orem Owlz game. A fun time was had by all (well, maybe except me because well, read the above post. I tried really hard though, I promise.) The funnest part was watching B and seeing how excited he was. (And by excited I mean someone must have put a dang quarter in him because he was CONSTANT MOTION for three hours.) We just sat in the general admission grass seating on blankets and that boy spent the majority of the time rolling down the hill over and over again! He didn't care who got in his way, who's blanket he stepped on, or who he had to take out on the way down. He had a blast!

Other notable things to mention. If you spend $2 on cotton candy for Savannah, she will guard it like she is guarding her life. Oh and also, not share it. No one, and I mean no one, get's between that girl and her cotton candy. Best $2 we've ever spent to keep her occupied for hours.

Also, those dang ice cream sandwiches that are two chocolate chip cookies with vanilla ice cream in between them are PURE EVIL. And contain about 730 calories. And are divine. And you can rationalize eating one of them if you let your kids have a bite every now and again because you didn't eat the whole thing by yourself, right? That's right.

And the best thing? Taking Braden to see the mascots. One would think that with the amount of times our family has been to Disneyland, good old Braden would be used to freaky looking characters walking around mingling with people. Well, one might think that, but they'd be wrong! I'm pretty sure my three year old almost had a panic attack when I tried to get him to shake hands with the Owl. And I'm pretty sure that the screams of pure terror took the mascot by surprise. Oh and also, my hysterical laughing. I'm sorry, but it was just too dang funny!

08.21.09

Day 16

2009-09-10T18:17:00.000-07:00

Good:

Dear Lewis,

I have a few words for you (quoted from a popular song):

"Shut- up and put your money where your mouth is....."

My picture collage is DONE. And perfect. And hanging on my wall as I speak. And I owe it all to a few things. First, my dear husband, don't bet me to do something, if you don't want it to get done. I ALWAYS win a bet......always. Second, huge props to my sister who (whenever she comes into town) helps me to do stuff that I normally wouldn't do myself. (In fact, my darling Lewis, maybe you should fly her into town more often. Hmmmmm. It's pretty tempting, isn't it?) And lastly, I know you never thought it would get done, but I DID IT, and now you must admit, it looks pretty rockin', doesn't it?

Now pay up.
That's all.
I love you,

Your darling (yes, I finally followed through with something) wife

Bad:

Back when I was in high school my dear old pappy called me into his "den" one day because he had something to show me. It seems as though there was an educational program on the discovery channel that chronicled the life of a housefly and my Dad had recorded it so that all of us kids could watch it. While this may seem bizarre to an outsider looking in, it was not in the least bit strange for us children. My father has always had a long-standing hatred for the fly. And his hate runs deep. So deep, in fact, that he felt it was his civic duty to pass the torch on to all of his offspring. After watching the hour long program, I was sufficiently disgusted and ready to cultivate my own hatred for that disgusting little pest. Well, Dad, I am proud to report that many years later I am a born and bred, true blue, FLY HATER! And this time of year could not make me more crazy!!!! There are flies everywhere. And with four kids coming in and out of the house all day? I'm pretty much screwed. It is not atypical for you to pass by my house and, if my windows are open, hear these sorts of things coming from inside:

"Die, you ball of poop, die!"
"Ha. Ha. Sucker. Gotcha."
"Burn, baby, burn."
"You are going to die a very painful death."

Quickly followed by: "Grab the Clorox wipes.....we've got to disinfect."

And do you want to know something really sad? The flies aren't even really bad this year.....and by really bad I use this for a comparison. When we first moved into our house (which will be seven years ago in a couple of months) I walked in my garage one morning to find flies had COMPLETELY covered the ceiling of my garage. There were hundreds and hundreds of the little suckers and after I dry-heaved AND had a mild panic-attack, I couldn't help but wonder the reason for all those flies being there. Of course, my sick and twisted mind had to wonder.....did one of the people that built our house stash a dead body in the roof of the garage and now the body is decomposing ergo the vast amount of flies covering the roof of my effin' garage? (And yes, I know, I do watch a little too much CSI.) But alas, a more reasonable (albeit, less exciting) explanation is the fact that we lived by cows.....and a lot of people who have horses. (But how was I supposed to know that? I mean, a dead body stashed in your garage is a totally plausible explanation as well.) Well, now that said cows are long gone, I no longer wake to find my garage as a breeding ground for flies, but still..........can't it just freakin' snow already so that we can kill these little suckers off for good?

08.20.09

Day 15

2009-09-10T17:41:00.000-07:00

Bad:

Today was the much anticipated first day O' school. To be quite honest, I wasn't ready for summer to be over. I love the carefree days, the lack of schedules, the coming and going as you please. BUT.....since all good things must come to an end AND since more than likely I would lose my ever-lovin' mind if I had ALL of my kids home with me ALL of the time, I think I was ready to deal with the fact that school was starting whether I liked it or not. And truly, Zach and Ky were really excited. They were up bright and early(too early if you ask me, but whadda ya gonna do), put on their new outfits, posed for some pictures all spiffy and shiny looking, and hopped on the school bus. Now normally.....I am a crier on the first day of school. (To be truly honest, I am a crier in most instances), so me shedding a few tears on the first day of school is not out of the norm. Not by a long shot. But today, I am proud to report, I was sans tears. Maybe it was because they seemed so excited to go to school and I just couldn't be sad for them. Or maybe it's because I anticipated the craziness that my day would behold(ooooohh.....foreshadowing) and I didn't have the time for tears. Or better yet, maybe I'm just a cold-hearted biotch. You choose.
Anyway, with the two oldest long gone and out the door, I was able to quick pull my house together for the bow making party I was to be hosting. I figured we could bust out some hair bows for a couple hours, clean up the house (again) for a bbq that I was hosting that night, and have time leftover to whip up a quick batch of the best homemade cookies in the world for my kiddos as they came home from school.

Here's what really happened:

We got started making the bows later than we anticipated. We made the bows for longer than we anticipated. (Seriously? I am like a bow making phenom. I picked it up in no time flat and was busting those little suckers out.) There were FIVE extra kids in my house. Add all of those things together and you have this when my kids come home from school on their first day.........a complete and utter pandemonium filled household with kids running everywhere and a ginormous MESS out the ying yang. It was not pretty. In fact, it was borderline atomic bomb-ish. I have NEVER in my life had my house that chaotic. So, when my sweet little chillin's walked through the door expecting a little piece of heaven with a homemade cookie and a cold glass of milk, instead what they got was Dante's Inferno. Seriously, it was like the 7th circle of Hell.....I'm not exaggerating......okay, maybe I'm exaggerating just a little, but you catch my drift. I felt so bad for them. Here, they were expecting a nice calm house, and nice well-thought-out snack, and being able to sit on the couch with me as they talked about their first day of school til their hearts content. What they got was what-ever they could find in the pantry for a snack, a house that looked like it had never been cleaned in it's life, and a Mom who was very well on the verge of losing her ever-lovin' mind! Whew. Can we just pretend like this first day never happened? Strike it off the books and start over again tomorrow? Yeah. That's what I'm thinking too. Who's up for some homemade cookies?

Good:

Well, after I was able to pull my shiz together (with the help of my sister and sis-in-law, Theresa) and we got the house all spic and span and the food all gorgeous and delish we were able to sit ourselves down and enjoy a good old-fashioned bbq. We had family and friends over and had quite an enjoyable evening. Long gone were the thoughts of my crazy day as I sat on our back deck, laughed, reminisced, ate some pretty kick-A food, and just plain relaxed. A perfect ending to a (not-so perfect) day.

Day 14

2009-09-03T17:27:00.000-07:00

Well.....today is the much anticipated/much dreaded Last Day of Summer. I'm not quite sure where I stand on the subject. It changes from any given moment (when my kids are fighting non-stop I want nothing more than to ship them off to school in Switzerland) but mostly I'm just a little sad. I hate the end of summer. It brings with it a feeling of dread that, for me, is most likely related to the fact that I Despise (with a capital D) the coming of Winter. But that's another subject for another post. Today, I'm going to list some of the Good AND Bad about this, our last day of Summer Vacation. Boo hoo.

Good:

1. At the very tippity top of my good list is the fact that I don't have to drag FOUR kids here, there, and everywhere whenever I have few errands to run. It is NOT a treat.....for them, or me. I HATE having to take them everywhere I go.....whether it's to the grocery store to grab one item, or the Doctor's office, or even the evil of all evils with four children......the MALL. (I have avoided that place like the plague this Summer.) It's very nice to only have to take up to two kids in places.......even if they are my two worst ones. Oh well.

2. Also, in conjunction with the above......from now on whenever I go places people won't look at me as if I'm the "freak" lady with four kids. I mean, seriously people, FOUR kids is NOT that many kids, is it? Please keep your comments about how it "looks like I have my hands full" and "Wow....are those all yours?" to yourself. I don't need to hear them. Since when did having four kids put you in the same classification as the "bearded lady?" I am not a freak, people.....jeesh. I'm just extremely fertile. So Get over it. And keep your "captain obvious" comments to yourself. Thank you.

3. You know how when your kids play outside all day and when the come inside they, er, well, they stink.......Badly. The only thing that I can compare them to is a wet dog. (That's exactly what they smell like. It is disgusting.) I have taken to giving them showers instead of baths so that they don't have to wallow in a tub that smells like butt. It is not pretty, I tell ya. Well.....now that only 2 of my kids spend every waking moment of their dad gum lives outside and the other two are in school most of the day........my wet dog smell is cut in HALF. It's almost like a little piece of Heaven.....stinky heaven, but heaven nonetheless.

4. Maybe now all of the incessant fighting between the two oldest {may} stop. (Yeah.....and monkeys might fly out of my butt. )But still......a girl can dream can't she?

5. Finally! Nap times can resume. And I'm not just talking about for Braden. There is nothing better than taking the phone off the hook, locking the house down, and hunkering down for a good old fashioned afternoon nap. I'm not ashamed to admit it.....I love a good nap. Some days there's just nothing better.

6. It's no secret that my kids ate me out of house and home this summer. The little lunch mouths wanted to eat ALL DAY LONG. I couldn't tell if all the snacking was because they were bored, hungry, ornery, feisty, tired, happy or what have you. There was no rhyme or reason to their snacking, but I've got news for you......that gravy train has ended. Now I can get back to being the (semi-nazi ) snack mom who dictates when and where you can have a snack and therefore can finally keep a package of goldfish around her house for longer than 37 seconds.

Bad:

1. Well, I have finally lost my biggest helpers. Zachary and Kylie are invaluable to me when it comes to helping me with the younger two. They watch the kids while I exercise. When I'm in the shower. While I'm sitting on the porch chatting it up with my neighbors. They are always willing (when bribed with money) to help me when I ask. I don't know what I'm going to do without them. Now their chores will fall by the wayside and I will have to do all the crumby little jobs that I hate like emptying the garbage and unloading the dishwasher. Now I will have to have kids "all up in my grill" when I'm trying to exercise. Now I will have to put the house on lock-down when I have a shower for fear that one of the younger kids will escape and be out in the road playing with knives.... or something to that extent. It's no fun at all.

2. No more random, spur of the moment trips to St. George where we can go and live there for days on end. Dang that school. It really messes with a lady's plans.

3. I was very, very, spoiled this summer. For the first time in my life (since having kids) I was able to sleep in every day this summer. Sleeping in for me is any time after 8:00 a.m and it happened so frequently and was so dang lovely that I'm not sure I can give it up. I might have to go through a 12-step program just so I can resume my regular up-at-the-butt-crack-of-dawn routine. Plus, I hate, hate, hate setting my alarm. It gives me anxiety. It makes me watch the clock all night long and I find myself constantly counting how many hours, minutes, or seconds I have left of sleep. It find it SO not pleasant.

4. I felt like we didn't do enough this summer. (Of course, I go through this every summer. But still.....) We didn't go swimming enough.....see as many movies.....go camping. We didn't hike as much as I wanted, visit as many places.....you catch my drift. We had fun, but did we have enough fun? I guess there's always next summer.....

5. I am always worried about what sorts of things my kids will pick up from other kids on the playground. Will they learn the ever popular sayings: "Milk, milk, lemonade".......(you know the rest) or how about "Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, look at these." (Oh yes, my friends, both of these sayings were learned on the playground when I was a wee lass. Lovely.) And I never shall forget how my 6 year old came home talking about the Vanessa Hudgens "nude picture" cell phone scandal. Aye aye aye. Can't I just keep them in a bubble forever where we never have to talk about sex, or bodily functions, or body parts, or any of that disgusting stuff that inevitably is going to be taught to my kids by some little punk on the playground!

6. I'm not gonna lie.....I really am going to miss them. I swear. Cross my heart and hope to die. For all their trouble.....I do LOVE THEM like crazy. Here's to a great school year......

08.18.09

Day 13

2009-08-31T16:24:00.000-07:00

Bad:

I guess I'd better think again before I decide to go "Mary-Lou-freakin'-Retton" on the uneven bars. I woke up this morning with the pleasure of having a body that felt like rigor mortis had set in. Feeling a little bit "stiff" is definitely the understatement of the year. I thought I was in shape (You know, with two marathons under my belt and kicking it daily with Tony Horton and P90X) but apparently that makes nary a difference when you're over 30, over your "ideal" weight, and just plain not cracked up to be a gymnast. My arms are sore, my legs are sore, and the back of my legs (behind my knees) are bruised....for the LOVE OF NED! Now I get to walk around like some sort of freak with bruises in bizarre places while people wonder if my husband beats me and chooses to inflict his pain in random, unexpected places. It's a lot to handle.....I tell ya. (By the way.....just to clear things up: My husband most certainly does not beat me.) You better believe I will think twice before performing random tricks on the uneven bars.
Mary-Lou Retton I am NOT.
And I think I can live with that.

Good:

I have a little bit of a "following through with things" problem......I'll be the first to admit it. I start projects with the best of intentions and then my momentum putters out and said projects never get finished. That being said, almost a year ago to the day, I convinced Lewis to take out a second mortgage on the house (Okay, that may be a teeny bit of an exaggeration, but still) so that we could get our kid's pictures taken by a really good photographer. The pictures were expensive, but soooooo worth it. Simply beautiful.

And totally overwhelming. So many pictures.....now what to do with them all? So, I had this bright idea to make a photo collage on my wall. I had the perfect wall, now all I needed were the perfect frames and someone with an eye for design to help me. So I waited. And waited. And waited. And months and months passed. And my Lewis got more and more frustrated. (After all, what good are beautiful pictures when you don't display them?)

Well.....I am proud to say that.....drum roll please.....almost ONE YEAR to the date I have PURCHASED FRAMES FOR MY PHOTO COLLAGE.

See {Lewis}......miracles can happen if you believe.
And you'd better believe it!

Day 12

2009-08-28T20:36:00.000-07:00

Bad:

Ugh. I have discovered that too much of a good thing can be just that.....too much of a good thing.
Too.Many.Smart.Cookies.
(And I never thought I'd live to see the day.)
Instead of birthday cake for Lew's big day....we celebrated with two dozen smart cookies. And who do you think got herself a smart cookie to eat when she picked up the two dozen? And who do you think ate another one that night with everyone else in the fam damily? And who do you think gets to keep all the leftovers and eat them for breakfast the next day?

I am resisting the urge to google the calorie content for these bad boys. I just don't want to know and the damage has already been done. AND it's starting to show on the scale.
Double ugh.

Good:

There is nothing better than staying up until 1 a.m playing games with some of the people that I love the most and laughing until I want to puke.....or wet my pants. (And I bet you can't guess which one of those I did.) With my sister and her husband in town from Ohio....and my older brother in town from Colorado....we had a regular old shindig out our place that included: Lots of eating, game playing, a whole heck of a lot of laughing, some possible wetting of the pants and other various activities. The highlight of the night may be when my brother shared some of his grossest medical stories (strictly professional, mind you. No names were named) and there also may have been some visual aids drawn. It was pretty eye opening to say the least.....and totally worth the lack of sleep that I received. And hey, now I've got some good "party" stories to share.....

Ugly:

Tonight, after Sunday dinner at my parents house, the whole family thought it would be nice to take a walk through the old neighborhood that we grew up in. Well......that was quite an eye opener to say the least. As we strolled though the 'hood (it's changed A LOT since we grew up there) we told old stories about our childhoods and relived some great memories. Somehow we ended up on the playground of the elementary school that we all attended and while the kids ran around and played the adults started challenging each other to tricks. It started out innocently enough. Let's see who can do the most pull-ups (or in the case of everyone who is NOT my brother, John) let's see who can do any pull-ups at all. Then, before you knew it, I was channeling my inner gymnast as I was hanging from the bars, flipping upside down, doing cherry drops and all kinds of other shiz. (I used to be quite the gymnast back in the day....all self taught, mind you. I always wanted to take gymnastics, but I got piano lessons instead. Oh well.) And what do you know.....it was all coming back to me. Of course, I was 20 years older and probably 75 pounds heavier, but hey, I was kicking butt out there. I'm not gonna lie when I say that everyone was impressed. Even my sweet sister-in-law, Theresa, was like "Florrie, you should totally take gymnastic lessons.....you could totally get back into it."

It was then that I realized that an {almost} 32 year old grown woman, who is at least 30 pounds overweight, should NOT do tricks on the uneven bars like a 12 year old does. NOT A PRETTY SIGHT. Oh well.....at least I kicked my families butt.
Take that.

Oh, and one other thing: When you are on the uneven bars showing off all your fanciful tricks to wow and impress your family and your brother says: "Wow Florrie.... You're going freakin' Mary Lou Retton on us" hold on tight 'cause most likely you're gonna laugh so hard you fall off the bars......oh and also, pee yourself.

Good times indeed.

08.16.09

Day 11

2009-08-25T20:09:00.000-07:00

Good:

Today is my sweetheart's 33rd B-day. (It also marks the 12th birthday that we have spent together.) I remember the first birthday we celebrated together.....we were just barely a couple and I was unsure of what to get him. So, using my mad creative skills, I created a gift basket that included things that we could do together on dates and such. (Wow. I really was impressive back then, wasn't I?) Anyway, to honor Lewis' birthday I have created a list of 33 reasons why I love him. Here goes:

1.He's hot. 2. He's an awesome Dad. 3. He's patient....as in, much more patient than his darling wife. 4. He's a hard worker. The hardest working person I've ever known. 5. He's a righteous priesthood holder. 6. He's athletic. 7. He takes me fun places. 8. He serves others. 9. He is organized out the wazoo....and very anal. And I'm pretty sure that being married to me drives him nuts in this capacity. I am the exact opposite. 10. He helps me around the house....a lot. 11. He dresses nicely. 12. He makes a kick-A Cherry Limeade. 13. He is kind. 14. He supports me in everything I do. 15. He smells good. 16. He laughs at my jokes.....and my blog posts. And is always telling me how funny I am. 17. He also tells me how creative I am. 18. He plays with the kids....as in: doesn't just watch them play, but gets out there and plays with them. 19. He doesn't complain one little bit when B follows in his shadow every time Lewis is doing yard work. 20. He keeps an immaculate yard so that I don't have to. 21. He spoils me. 22. He hardly ever, ever yells. 23. He doesn't judge. 24. He loves to travel with me. 25. He brings home the bacon so that I can be a SAHM. I will always be grateful for this. 26. He compliments my cooking.....frequently. And if he doesn't like a meal, he very tactfully tells me that he would prefer if I didn't make it again. 27. He keeps in shape. 28. He disciplines calmly and patiently. 29. He's honest in every part of his life. 30. He's good with his money. He has taught me to be better. 31. He's dependable in his church calling. 32. He loves his parents. He is a mama's boy and I don't mind one little bit. (Quite frankly, it gives me hope that my son's will be mama's boys too.)

And drum roll please:
33. In the infamous words of Kelly Clarkson: "You've got a piece of me, and honestly,my life would suck without you."

I love you.

Bad:

I was right in the middle of a dream about my high school boyfriend telling me just how in the world Britney Spears lost all of that weight (thanks a bunch facebook and US Weekly magazine for influencing that dream) when Braden woke me up out of a dead sleep. I look at the clock and is says 3:54 am. Balls. So I go and lay with him so that he will calm down and this is my life for the next couple of hours:

I am squished in Beepers twin bed with the most terrible mattress in this whole entire house, listening to him as he sniffs and sniffs and sniffs. He is a chronic sniffer. I mean, he probably sniffs like every 10 seconds. He sounds like what I imagine a coke addict would sound like. And finally he drifts off to sleep and I drift off to sleep and I wake up two hours later hugging the edge of his bed with my arm totally asleep. Lovely. And worst of all....I didn't get to finish my dream. And I'm bummed because I was really curious as to how Britney lost all that weight!

08.15.09

Day 10

2009-08-24T21:06:00.000-07:00

Good, Bad and Very, Very Ugly:

Well, I did it. I have officially scarred my son for life. I knew this day would come, and low and behold, it did. After 6 days of playing peek-a-boo with his poo.....it all came down to this:

The dreaded Suppository.

And trust me...... I just shuddered when I typed that. And threw up a little in my mouth. And wanted to burst into tears. It is not a pleasant memory. After a long, long, tedious, (borderline hellish ) day of running errands with all four kids I was at my breaking point. And I'm sure Braden was too. The poor little guy was six days past comfortable and I was dragging him here there and everywhere. No wonder he was constipated. I don't know many people that would just LOVE to unload their bowels at Costco....let alone a little boy whose only been poop on the potty one other time in his life. So.....by the time we got home, it was not pretty. He was in misery and I knew what had to be done.....had to be done.

So.....I made my sister come up and do it for me. (But in my defense.....she is a nurse. And I've never given a suppository in my life. And I am VERY squeamish when it comes to those sorts of things. I mean, I won't even help my kids pull their loose teeth out. Ewwww. And plus, did I not threaten my son that I was going to stick a pokey up his bum? Um yeah. Kind of not a good idea if I actually followed through with that threat. So I made my sis do the dirty work for me. And she was such a lamb to agree to it.)

Okay. So it was all said and done and he was not a happy camper. (But again, I don't know anyone on God's green earth that would be after that scenario.) And we wait. And wait. And then, because we planned on going to a movie, we can't wait anymore. I just put a pull-up on him and we head out the door. Immediately in the car he is doubled over in pain and crying that he needs to go. So we make a quick stop at my Mom's house because that is the closest bathroom and although I can tell that he totally needs to go HE JUST WON'T DO IT. He is terrified and at this point screaming in pain so I put him back in the car and hope that he can hold it until he gets to the movie theatre. No such luck. Not even two minutes later.....he is writhing in his seat and crying and saying " I just want to go in my pull up mom. I just want to poop in my underwears." So I make an impulsive decision. I unbuckle his seat belt, tell him to get out and go for it.

The next 10 minutes in the car on our way to the mall.....he is leaning over his car seat, bracing himself, and pooping like he's never pooped before. I mean, the boy was going to town. I say to the other kids in the backseat, "Does it smell back there you guys?" because I have yet to catch a whiff of the treasure that he is leaving in his diaper.....and I turn around and all three other kids are holding their shirts up over their noses and looking like they want to pass out.

"Does it smell???" Zachary responds with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "What do you think?" Um yeah. I think he just answered my obvious question.

So we get to the mall and all the kids unload out of the car as fast as their little legs will carry them and take deep breaths of the sweet, fresh air outside.....as Braden keeps on keepin' on.

Lewis and the kids go inside to buy the movie tickets and it's just me and B in the car.....chillin'. Poopin'. Stinkin'. Finally.....after a bloomin' eternity.....he is ready for me to change his pull-up.

And. Oh. My. Heck.

That's all I'm gonna say.

The boy looked like he had eaten a midget. No wait. Strike that. He looked like he had eaten the whole freakin' lollipop guild.

I had ten wipes left to my name.....and that was not enough. I had poo all over my hands, all over the wipes case, and all over the two Ziploc bags that I managed to round up because there was no way in you know where I was going to be seen carrying THAT pull-up through the parking lot of the mall. It was not a pretty sight, but you know what? We may have taken a step back with the whole pooping on the potty thing by letting him go in his diaper, but boy oh boy, was it worth it. For the rest of the evening? A happy camper all the way.

After all, who wouldn't be after dropping 6 days worth of crap in their pants?

08.14.09

Day 9

2009-08-15T15:34:00.000-07:00

Bad:

I'm in a little bit of a pickle.....to put it mildly. ('Cause what I really want to say is that I'm royally screwed.....but I shall save those words for another time.)

Today, Kylie came to me and, American Girl Doll catalog in hand, proceeded to show me just what she wanted for Christmas. (Now before you get your pants all in a wad, keep in mind these things about children in general, but especially about Kylie. The minute that Christmas is over....she is planning for the next Christmas. She is constantly thinking about what she is going to ask Santa for and so for her to be thinking of her Christmas presents in August is totally NOT out of the ordinary. I'm sure that come December 26th of this year, she will pretty much already know what she is asking for next year. It's just how it goes.) But I digress. So there she was, catalog in hand, showing me the cute little boy/girl twins that she was asking Santa for and she asks me if she can get on the website to show me the rest of the stuff. Sure.....why not.....I might as well start preparing 6 months in advance.....no big whoop.

"Now I want this dress for the girl, Mom and this outfit for the boy." She says. And she proceeds to show me several outfits that coordinate boy/girl and I am thinking how sweet of American Girl to make my life just a little bit easier, and then out comes this double whammy.

"Now see this dress right here mom?"
"Uh huh. Yes. It's very lovely, " I respond.
"Well.....I want it for the girl twin. But they don't have a matching outfit for the boy. So....I was thinking that I could just tell Santa's elves to make a little teeny, tiny baby tuxedo that's black....with long sleeves and long pants....and a little teeny, tiny bow tie. Wouldn't that be cute mom? Wouldn't that look so good? Do you think the elves would do that, Mom? Do you?"

I was speechless. ( And in my mind damning American Girl doll for their carelessness in such a matter. I mean, hello? How hard is it to make a coordinating tux to go with your baby dolls? )

I quickly saved face by telling her what a grand idea that was and mumbled something about how I'm sure that Santa elves would be able to whip up a teeny, tiny tuxedo (with matching bow tie, mind you) in no time at all. So.....here's where the pickle comes in. Let's pretend that I did know how to sew, let alone make doll clothes in minuscule proportions. When, I ask you, do I find the time to do this? Can I commission a tux to be made? Should I google and google until my fingers are bloody nubs looking for said suit? Should I tell sweet Kylie that Santa's elves are on strike this year and NO CHILD will get anything that Santa can't order from Amazon.com?

No. I think I will try the "don't ask, don't tell" tactic. If I don't ask her what she wants for Christmas and I don't tell her that she may be getting a teeny, tiny tux when hell freezes over....then maybe, just maybe, she'll forget all about it.

Good:

Currently, I am on week 5 of my workouts from hell.....aka..P90X. Actually though, I am really liking it. Surprise. Surprise. Today, as an added bonus, I was able to talk my sister into coming up and working out with me. I think most people would agree that having someone to work out with makes it much more enjoyable. We were able to sweat, grunt, and swear at Tony Horton in unison and it was fantastic. Nothing motivates me more than seeing that my little sister can totally kick my Kenpo Karate bootay. You rock Jenny.

Also, on the plus side....a few days ago in my post P90X stupor....my brain wasn't working quite right. I accidentally mailed my exercise DVD to Netflix instead of the one I was supposed to be returning. Oopsie. So, after a call to Netflix, they were able to flag my account and send it right back to me. I say, God bless you Netflix. Not only do you bring enjoyable DVDs to my doorstop whenever I want them, but you also correct the problem when I am being a total-airhead. Thanks a bunch.

08.13.09

Day 8

2009-08-13T14:05:00.000-07:00

Bad:

In my Hasty haste to eat the broccoli that I had prepared for lunch, I ate a scorching hot piece and burned my tongue.......badly. Now before you make fun of me for being in such a hurry to gobble down my lunchtime broccoli, rest assured that I LOVE broccoli. I love it like candy.....seriously. And I was hungry. And it was delicious, at least I'm pretty sure that it was, because I burned my taste buds right off and quite frankly couldn't taste it very well at all. So here is the badness of it all. Not only could I NOT taste my scrumptious broccoli, but I pretty much slaved over the stove the WHOLE dang afternoon, busily preparing a new Manicotti recipe that was definitely LABOR INTENSIVE and by the time dinner rolled around......I really couldn't taste it. (But I was told it was good. And it smelled good. And it definitely looked good....so I'm sure it was good. And now I'm going to have to make the dang thing all over again because I want to have a good taste of it and plus my kids had like three servings each which means they really liked it....and phew. That was a lot to get off my chest.)

It's a dang good thing I already ate my smart cookie for breakfast........

Good:

Lewis and I have a summertime tradition that I ADORE. In fact, I have adored it aprox. 76 times this summer, and I will be sad when it has to come to an end. (And NO, you sickos. It's not what you're thinking of. Jeesh. Get your minds out of the gutter.....and also? 76 times?! I am not a MACHINE.) Anyway.....this is a little tradition called Cherry Limeades. Last summer when Lewis was laid up in bed with foot surgery, I got a little sick of running here, there, and everywhere to get him his hearts desire....which most of the time was a beverage from Sonic. So.....in a moment of brilliance.....we decided to start keeping stuff on hand AT ALL TIMES to make our own Cherry Limeades. And last summer we drank them A LOT. But then, the minute that the summer ended, Lewis told me to stop buying the stuff. He said that it was strictly a "summer treat" and that we would only drink them in the summertime. (At first, I felt like he was the freakin' Cherry Limeade nazi....."No drinks for you!") But soon, after my withdrawals and such, I didn't miss them so much. And you better believe that come the first day of summer this year were back in business! There is nothing better than laying in my glorious bed, with the man I love, sipping on a lovely beverage and relaxing. Oh cherry limeades.....my days with you are numbered. I will continue to cherish you while I still can.

Oh.....and as a side note. NOTHING felt better on my worked over tongue than the cool refreshingness (shut up spell checker. I know this isn't a real word.) of a cherry limeade.

08.12.09

Day 7

2009-08-13T13:09:00.000-07:00

Good:

Well....I'm not gonna lie. I've got Smart Cookies on the brain. And because my sister is in town and I wanted her to taste the heaven that is "smart cookies" I had my dearest sis-in-law (Thanks a bunch, Aubs) pick up ONE DOZEN of these little gems on her way home from the SLC. Now you may wonder, what does one do with one dozen smart cookies? Well, shame on you if you said hoard them and shove them all into your pie-hole. (Albeit, the thought did cross my mind once or twice.) But alas, today was about SHARING and so even the littlest kids got to join in the pleasure.

(Let me back track for just a minute.....remember when a long, long time ago I got my very first taste of smart cookies and I was so kind and loving of a wife to share with my dear hubby. Well apparently I was not so kind and loving as a Mom because in order to keep my children far, far away from the cookies I may have told a teeny little white lie. And this little white lie may have involved telling them that there were ground up grasshoppers inside the cookies and that they were DISGUSTING!)

Okay, so we've already established that today I was in that sharin' kind of mood. Really? Who could eat a dozen cookies by themselves anyway? (me.me.me.me.me.) So I give the kids their cookie for a bedtime snack and they snarfed them up. The LOVED them. And later, after I was tucking Savy into bed she says to me, "Mom, those cookies sure were good." "Yes they were, " I responded back. "Well," she says, "you could hardly even taste the grasshoppers at all!."

Oh my dearest Savy.....this is why I love you so. For a little girl who thought there were ground up grasshoppers in the cookies, you sure did pound them. You definitely know something good when you see it........ Grasshoppers or not.

Bad:

So, I hate to beat a dead horse, (and lest you think all I ever talk about are things like smart cookies and constipation....but history shows that indeed, this IS all I talk about) our B is STILL constipated. Oh crap. Literally. When was this trial ever end? At the suggestion of a couple of people I headed off to Walgreens today to purchase a little MiraLax. Zach wanted to go with me so I let him come along for the ride. We got to the Walgreens and after some searching found the section that we were looking for. I don't know how we could miss it. It had a big sign (and it freakin' might as well been a flashing neon sign) that said LAXATIVES. And wouldn't you know it: hoards of people were sitting around waiting at the pharmacy for their prescriptions. That place was a-hoppin'! So here I was browsing in the lovely laxative section and trying to slyly drop hints that this purchase was NOT indeed for me. "So Zach," I say, "Do you think that this is okay for Braden? Do you think that this is okay for THREE year olds?" I was trying not to yell, but still trying to get my point across.
I wanted to yell out:

"This is not for me people! This is for my son. He is constipated. Not me. I don't have a problem in this area at all. No sirree. Not me."

Instead I grabbed the goods and headed straight to the cashier to pay for said laxative....only having to repeat the process all over again, lest she also thought I was constipated as well. Oh, the things we mother's do for our kids!

08.11.09

Day 6

2009-08-11T18:08:00.000-07:00

Bad:

Why oh why do we Mother's love our children so much? Sometimes, (if not all) times, when my kids are sick or in pain there is nothing I want more than to take that pain away from them....even if that means me bearing the pain myself. Today was definitely not one of beepers better days. He woke up this morning with an ear draining all sorts of yucky gunk (which in a child with ear tubes indicates an infection.) He also is riding on the constipation train AGAIN and between that AND an ear infection AND waking me up bright and early at the unheard of hour of 5:30 am, he was struggling by this evening.....to put it mildly. NOT a happy camper. But seriously? His cries were so sad, so pathetic, and so heart wrenching....it was all I could do to not burst into tears myself. It is so HARD to see your child so miserable.

Good:

Today was my dearest Mother's 58th birthday. (Sorry to call you out on the age, Mommy, but you don't look a day over 35 anyway. {wink wink}) We had a grand old celebration of all sorts of wild and craziness at my Mom's favorite restaurant: Mi Ranchito. It probably was a good thing that they stuck us in the back room all by ourselves since the decibel level probably rivaled a Lear jet.....but what they hay! We had fun. After some good ol' Mexican food we head back to our house for some MORE food because hey, what's a b-day without some cake and ice cream? (In our case we happened to have THREE cakes, but that's just a minor little detail.)

Here are some facts about my dearest Mother. She is the best mom in the world! When most ladies my age are worried about turning into their Mother's.....I am hoping that someday I WILL turn into my Mother. She is the kindest, gentle, most patient person that I know. When I was a little girl I NEVER remember her yelling. Whether she did or not is beside the question.....because she never did it enough to make an impression. She is a beautiful person, both inside and out and a great grandma to her 15 grandchildren. And here is one of my favorite stories about her:

When she was a young mother raising her young children, she would always try to have jobs that would allow her to be home when her kids got home from school. The job that she had for many, many years was delivering papers for the Daily Herald. She would take the papers around to the boxes that sold them and the gas stations every day. This job was perfect because when we were younger we would just go with her and when we were in school she would always be home by the time we walked through the door. My sister and I LOVED going with her on the paper route. I mean.....we loved it like it was no body's business. I have many fond memories of riding around in my car with my mom and the many crazy things we did. This is the story of one of those crazy times.
My sissy and I were really little. I am thinking maybe I was 6 or 7, which made my sister 4 or 5. We thought it would be absolutely FANTASTIC if we snuck our cat in the car under the blanket so that she could go with us. Keep in mind these small details: It was the middle of the summer. We did not have AC in the car. Cats don't even freakin' like cars. They are not like dogs.
We would be in the car for about 6 hours. We would be too far from home to take her back.

It was such a baaaaaaaddddd idea. Like a colossal bad idea. Once my mom was far enough away from home that she couldn't turn back around we whipped that little cat out and paraded her around like the queen that we thought she was. "Look what we brought, Mom" we squealed like the little girls' that we were. "Oh girls. What have you done?" She said. (See....I told you she didn't yell.) Well......the next six hours were a living cat hell. The cat got freaked. The cat got hot. She proceeded to throw up and shat all over the car. NO LIE. It was not pretty. How my mother lived through it AND still did her job, I do not know. I do know this: If my little darlings ever pulled a stunt like that (which they never could because really? Cats? EWWWWW. We will never have a cat.) I would not be pleasant. I would not be mild. I might even throw in a couple of handy expletives....you never know. But that's what makes my mom so great and sums her up best. She IS pleasant. She IS mild. And as for those handy expletives......never! I love you MAMA.

Ugly:

To the lady who drove through the neighborhood like you do EVERY DAY and there were children in the road: It does no good to slam on your breaks just to prove a point. There will always be children in the road......that is why us Mother's sit outside and watch them. Do NOT throw your arms up in the air and wave your fists at me. I WILL go mama bear on your arse. And also, it is probably not a good idea to tear away at the speed of light once said children have moved out of your way......I'm just sayin'. You may have you slam on your breaks again before you know it. Keep that in mind.

08.10.09

Day 5

2009-08-10T14:47:00.000-07:00

Bad:

Today was frumpy dress day. I woke up this morning and was just not feeling it. You know how when Sunday rolls around and you pretty much have to have pre-planned a dress in mind for Church or you will be stuck trying on 6 different outfits.....each of them getting progressively worse. Well.....today I had pre-planned on wearing my long, flowing, kinda makes me look preggers (but I don't give a darn) dress. I didn't want to shave my legs. I didn't want something that would ride up when the kids used me as a jungle gym during the 3 hour block. I just wanted something comfy, lose fitting, casual, and moderately cute and by dang if this dress wasn't all of those things. Then......the un-imaginable happened..... I was climbing over our LuvSac on the way into the storage room (don't ask) and riiiiiiippppppp. Oh crap. A HUGE hole in my dress. Are you kidding me? Now what was I supposed to wear? So, it was back to the drawing board. Only this time, second frumpy dress was no where near as cute, or long, and it just made me look fat instead of pregnant and it rode up every time a child crawled over, under and around me for three hours. I did not look like a gem and it was a sad day when I looked in my hot mirror....and not even that could help me! Oh well. C'est la vie.

Good:

{Singing} My sister's in town. My sister's in town. La la la la la.....my sister's in town.
I am so excited that she is finally here. She is my BFF and can you believe that it was been one FULL year since I have seen her lovely face? She is here for two weeks and we are going to live it up......just you wait and see!

Here is one of my favorite memories about my sissy. We have a looooonnnnnggggg history of funny stories and crazy times, but this is one I love the most. When we were wee little chillins' we used to share ourselves a bed....it was a grand old time. Jenny would always have to snuggle up close to me AND in order to fall asleep, she would also have to be touching a part of my body. Well.....as the years went on and I got to be more and more of a "give me my space" kind of sleeper (which I totally still am....no spooning for me....just ask Lew) it would drive me absolutely BANANAS that she had to hold on to me. So pretty soon I banished her to the corner of the bed and would ONLY let her hold on to my nightgown to fall asleep. (Gracious, what kind of horrible sister was I, anyway?) And so most nights, she would hold on to a tiny piece of my nightgown (because that was as close as I would allow her) and drift off into la la land. We have always been close. She may not still need to hold on to me to fall asleep (DUH. Hello captain obvious) but I still like to think that she needs me in her life to comfort her like only a big sister can....just as I need her to comfort me.( And I still may never forgive my bro-in-law for whisking her away to the far away land of Ohio.) I love you Jen! So glad you're here.
08.09.09

Day 4

2009-08-09T11:11:00.000-07:00

Bad:

Bloated.
Retaining Water.
Headaches.
Fatigue.
Cramps.
Back Aches.

I freakin' sound like a walking Midol commercial. Not the greatest of days. Lewis was gone all morning and I was at my wits end with the kids and pretty much told them to go outside and not step one foot into the house until their father got home. Blech. I am so not a pleasant person today.

On a side note: When I was training for the marathon a few months back I had to run a thirteen- miler on a day I was experiencing these exact same symptoms. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but if I had balls......they'd be made of steel. Consequently, today is one of those days I'm left wishing that I did have a set......oh to be a man!

Good:

Two words: Smart Cookies.

At a little family shindig this afternoon, I was pleasantly surprised to find that one of the coolest, smartest people I know (Kelli) decided to contribute these little beauties for our dessert. I was introduced to Smart Cookies when my sis-in-law (also one of the coolest and smartest people I know) brought me 4, count them, 4 of the most delectably, delicious and by all counts the MOST AWESOMELY FAN-FREAKIN'-TASTIC cookies that I have ever eaten. It would be a lie to say that I didn't want to (after immediately tasting the first one) shove them all into my pie hole right away. BUT, like the super-nice person, and just darn right most awesome wife that I am, I saved a couple for my hubby. Then I jealously watched as he shoved them into his pie-hole and secretly plotted when and how I could procure some more of those cookies. Well.....not even four days later, I sat in a beautiful cabin in the beautiful Utah mountains and shoved more Smart Cookies into my pie-hole. BLISS.

However, I am left wondering about the name of these cookies. Perhaps they would be more suited to be called :"You- better -be- smart- when -you- eat- these- cookies -and -not -eat- 3- at -once -or -you- will -have- an -extra- 10 pounds -of -junk- in- your -trunk" Cookies. What do you think?

Ugly:

On a day like today (You know, Midol commercial day) it is probably not a good idea to eat a bunch of semi-mediocre Chinese food from a restaurant you never laid your peepers on before, and then hop in the car for a 45 minute car ride home. Let's talk about this for a minute....at times, I was having to squeeze my eyes shut, grit my teeth and breath through the pain. It was MISERABLE. Talk about your stomach hurting......I was experiencing all sorts of new sympathy for my littlest wee one and how his tummy was hurting. In fact, I'm pretty sure that if someone had said to me: "Maybe we just need to stick a pokey up your bum and your stomach will feel better" then I would have karate kicked them in the head! Again, Braden, Mommy's sorry. I feel your pain.

08.08.09

Day 3

2009-08-07T18:14:00.000-07:00

Good:

Victory is mine! A much needed, much worried about, and much discussed poo poo in the potty happened this morning......dare I say a poop worthy of a celebration! Screaming and cheering, two treats, and a spontaneous trip to the store to buy a toy later, I am left wondering if Braden and his constipation will be cured. Only time will tell. AND only time will tell if my son will have to receive counseling because of my mad potty training skillz that may or may not (but most likely DID indeed) include:

*Telling my son I was going to have to put a pokey up his bum. (Ouch. It is even worse typing it the second time around.) Aye aye aye. Heaven help me.

*Not letting him put his underwear or pants back on until he went #2.

* Telling him that we were going to sit in the bathroom all day until he went #2.

* Every time he had that 'poo' look about him I would grab him and take off running to the nearest bathroom in hopes that I could catch him in the act. (I thought this would scare the poo out of anyone, but strangely it has the opposite effect. Go figure.)

*Bribery, bribery, and more bribery.

*Begging, pleading, soft talking, loud talking, threats, prayers and just plain despair.

So.....life lesson learned. I am no longer the self-proclaimed "Queen" of potty-training. (In fact, I'm pretty sure if I had my way I would have sent every one of my children off to some sort of potty-training "boot camp" to have some other schmucks do my dirty work for me. )I have decided I am no good at this potty-training bidness. I am not perfect. I have not mastered this.....but a poop on the potty? I'd dare say that goes down in history as a milestone. Well played.....Beepers......well played.

Bad:

By 12:30 this afternoon I am looking at my kids as if they are all the spawn of Satan and I am starting to wonder when their heads will start to spin around and vomit will come spewing forth from their mouths.

"What is wrong with you all??" I shout.

Silence. Silence. Crickets Chirping. Just then I realize.....NOT ONE of them has had breakfast this morning and it's freakin' lunch time. Oopsie Daisy. I guess Mommy had other priorities on her mind..... such as getting brother to take the kids for a swim (hint hint....read above post) But still. That is just plain inexcusable. I mean, give me 45 minutes without food and I turn into a stark, raving, lunatic. Wait a minute........I haven't had breakfast either!

Real smooth, Mom.......real smooth.

08.07.09

Day 2

2009-08-07T17:58:00.000-07:00

Bad:

I think I am in dire need of some Mommy “alone” time. Today we had FIVE, count them, FIVE dentists appointments and although it was a trifle bit hectic (that very well may be the understatement of the year) I was glad to get them over with in one foul swoop. As I was sitting in the dentist chair getting the plaque scraped off my teeth…..a perfectly terrible torture….I found myself desperately wishing that the dentist would come in and tell me that I had a cavity or two (or dare I admit it….a root canal) so that I could schedule an appointment BY MYSELF and for MYSELF to get the work done. Hello???!!!! Since when did the trip to the dentist become like a trip to the spa? Since the invention of laughing gas I’m guessing. That perfectly lovely gas is SO my version of recreational drugs. I love the way it relaxes me. The way it makes me tingle from the tips of my toes right up to my head. That stuff is heavenly and I will continue to pray every night that it never gets taken off the market because a world without laughing gas is just not a world I want to live in. As for the cavity situation, wouldn’t you know it, NOT ONE DANG CAVITY! Who woulda thunk that would ever be a bad thing???? Well my peeps….today it was……today it was. Can you fault a lady for wanting a hit of laughing gas every now and again?

Good:

I had book club tonight with my bitty twos, my ladies, my peeps, my partners in crime. Seriously….the thoughts of book club got me through my day that included (but was not limited to): dentist appointments, a trip to Micky D’s (a fantastic bribe to persuade my baby to get his teeth checked......bleh.), breaking up about 24 fights, dealing with aprox. 16 neighbor kids, making dinner for myself AND my in-laws, and a myriad of various other chores and activities that I do sans my husband because hello??? he has a job and a church calling and just wasn't able to be here this evening. To the ladies of my book club: You truly lighten my spirit and give me something to look forward to all day. I literally count down the hours until I can be in your presence. So THANK YOU for all the many laughs and red-hot topics we discuss that pretty much have nothing to do with what we've read. Let's keep it up for many years to come. And I'm super mondo sorry that I had to leave early and I really really hope that all the juicy talk can be saved for next time. Okay. Thanks. Bye.

08.06.09

Day 1

2009-08-07T17:18:00.000-07:00

GOOD:

Today a freak wind storm blew through our little community and knocked out the power for about four hours. Since this happened in the late afternoon and into the evening, we nary felt the effects of this inconvenience as the children just ran and played outside. As the sun started to set my anxiety regarding our no power situation began to increase. Suddenly my thoughts turned to how I was going to entertain myself for the rest of the evening. No power = No facebook, no blog stalking, no catching up on crappy reality T.V on my DVR, no reading my book in bed sipping on my cherry limeade with crushed ice…..this night was going to be a total bust! If I were a mind reader (and who wouldn’t want to be) I’m sure that these were the thoughts that were going through my husband’s mind.

“Sweet. Tonight I am totally going to score. With no computer, T.V or reading to get in my way, we are totally going to have some smokin’ hot ‘relations.’ What else is there to do when the power is out? Go to bed? Sure you can go to bed after we’ve hit it a couple of times…..if you catch my drift. {wink wink}"

No wonder the Pioneers had so many stinkin' children. What else did they have to do with their time? Darn socks? Do needlepoint? Um yeah. I’m pretty sure that those things got old pretty darn quick. So…..just as I was mentally trying to gear myself up for a two-fer or maybe even a three-fer (like I said, we had NOTHING better to do) the freakin’ lights came back on! And so, to end the evening, I plopped myself in my heavenly bed, sipped on a lovely beverage and watched one of the million episodes of bad T.V that I had simmering on my DVR. Perfection.

BAD:
I am going to Mommy Hell. I am sure of it. For the last five days I have been potty training my fourth and final victim. (I say victim, because really, who wants to deal with the likes of me when they are potty training?) Now keep in mind, I have successfully potty trained three other savages. I should probably have something to the equivalent of a potty training PHD for the LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY . Yet I still pull stunts like this:

Let me set up the scene. My dearest and youngest son has finally mastered the art of peeing on the potty, but for some reason has yet to drop a deuce in the toilet. Instead, he is getting more and more constipated as the days go on, and about every 10 minutes for FOUR DAYS IN A ROW I hear this:
"Mommy, my tummy hurts.”
So……we rush to the toilet as if his very rear end is on fire and needs extinguishing and NADA, NOTHING, ZIP, ZERO. The poo eludes us. It is on this very day as I am crouched down in the bathroom holding his little rear end over the toilet, dimming the lights to set the “mood” (Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it….I was at my wit’s end people!) and running the water to block out the sound of my other three wild ones standing outside the door whispering,
“Mom, did he do it yet? Did he go poo yet?”
(Jeesh kids. Leave your brother alone. Three year olds can get stage fright too.) And then I popped out this little jewel.

“Braden, if you don’t go poopy, Mommy is going to have to stick a pokey up your bum bum to help you go. Do you want that?”

Wait. Stop the presses. Did I really just say that to my son? Did I really just say that OUT LOUD?

Stick.A.Pokey.Up.Your.Bum. Holy Crap. Mother of the year I am not. Mommy Dearest? Yeah, that sounds more like it. Now, in an effort to try and explain myself, I will clarify what I meant by that. I have birthed four children. Somewhere along the way, each and every one of them has become constipated when they were an infant or baby. There is nothing worse than a constipated baby. I should know...... I’ve lived it...... Several times. Well, sorry if this is a little bit gross and just plain TMI, but also somewhere along the way I learned this little technique. Sometimes if you stick a well lubed Q-tip up their little hiney and quite gently turn it in circles it can stimulate the bowels and voila! They’re back in Business, baby! Well this is what I meant, but so un-eloquently expressed to my darling boy. (I am all about the scare tactics. For example: Do you want to get hit by a car and die? No? Then DON’T PLAY IN THE ROAD!” Or this little gem that I’ve used a time or two…..”Never, EVER talk to stranger or take candy from them because they will throw you in their car and you will never EVER see Mommy or Daddy again.”) So in essence, what I was attempting was a scare tactic that had the quite opposite effect as my son is probably forever scarred by the idea of his mom putting a pokey in his bum. Oh, and P.S. I bet you’re wondering if he ever ended up going on the potty? Well, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that scaring the literal poop out of your child is much harder than one would think. Oh well.

UGLY: Does it really get any uglier than saying to your three year old “I’m going to stick a pokey up your bum.” Um yeah. I didn’t think so either.

08.05.09