Day 39

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

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

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

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