Screw 30, Screw 29...HELLO 25!

It's that time of year again! My favorite sucky day of the year: MY BIRTHDAY! And while I've become a serious blogging slacker, I HAD to sit down and add to the saga. You remember this and this, right? Let's continue on!

Hubs told me a few weeks ago that he was going to take my birthday off from work and take me to lunch! Wow! Sounds great to me!

Only, then the truth came out. He had a final scheduled for that evening and he was really taking the day off to sit at the library and study. His plan was to head over there from lunch and sit the rest of the day there cramming. Lunch was in place of dinner out.

Only then, two days before, he says he was thinking it would be nice to go have brunch somewhere. He was thinking IHOP.

I looked him square in the eye and said, "You are NOT taking me to IHOP and you are NOT taking me to brunch just so you can hit the library earlier either."

He looked pretty sheepish at that. Can't deny the truth!

So birthday morning dawns. He's HOME, so I turned OFF my alarm clock and happily snoozed away while he juggled the morning crankiness hatefulness cheerfulness of my kiddos. AND, he COOKED breakfast!

I got to eat my eggs and MUFFINS with the topping stuff in the bed in quiet while the rest sat at the table and *sigh* argued over who got the most debated amongst themselves.

He also let me eat my cake for breakfast too. Wanna see it? Then I went back to sleep!

Fastforward to my lunch at DeAngelos for shrimp and corn bisque, and YUMMMM!!!! The best part? On the way to the restaurant, we got a call that Steven's final got rescheduled for next week!

AND, he gave me a PRESENT too! Now, there was no wrapping paper, but it was in a nice fancy box. This man actually asked around at work, got a recommendation, DROVE to the place and bought me a SPA PEDICURE!!!

AND since his evening was suddenly freed up, he made me a big ol pot of GUMBO!! AND cleaned the kitchen! AND put the lights on my Christmas tree! I hate that job.

And, for those of you who are wondering...

YES, HELL FROZE OVER!

IT SNOWED!!!!

Nutcrackers

Daddies will do just about anything for their daughters. Including sitting through a full scale ballet production. But not five minutes into it, he leaned over to me.


Hubs: I just can't handle those man tights.


Me: You're just jealous. You wish your butt looked that good.


Hubs: It does look that good!


Me: Maybe I'll get you some man tights for Christmas!


Hubs: Hey! We're having a bonfire!

Anyone up for roasting weenies?

My Sass

To the best, most gentle, loving and loyal doggie ever:

It's been over 16 years since I brought your sassy heiny home "to watch for the weekend." I knew they'd love you and let you stay. I didn't know they'd refuse to let you leave with me. I still love you as much as I did back then, and I respect you too. For loving my babies and never flinching when grubby little hands grabbed handfuls of your ears or tried to pull you around by your tail, and not even when they plopped right down on top of your head. You are awesome.

I love you and home will never be the same without you there.

Sassy
Aug 4, 1993-Nov 13, 2009

It's about Time!

There is nothing, NOTHING, like a 2 year old's temper tanturn to try my patience and remind me of why I GOT A JOB!

Whoo Hoo! I start on Monday!

Constipated Kid

Motherhood Emergencies

Stomach pain can be a serious thing for kids. Not the run of the mill tummy aches where they clutch their bellies moaning "No mommmm, my stomach hurts, I can't take the trash out right now" when they step into the house from rolling in the grass with their friends. The real kind that's sharp and stabbing and terrifies every mother into envisioning their angel being rolled down a hospital corridor, rushed into emergency surgery to save their life.

This is how I spent my evening today. I picked up my Ashley from school to find her crying and moaning and unable to stand up straight and walk. This is a child who can be running 103 fever and vomiting and still find the energy to argue with her brothers. Crying? Yeah, this is the big time.

Unfortunately, I had one other experience with this type of situation a few years ago that I quickly flashed back to. One where I picked my 5 year old up from school one afternoon, with him also crying and moaning and unable to stand up straight and walk. He scared the crap out of me that day, and I gave him about an hour at home before I called the doctor. The nurse on the phone said, "Is that him I hear crying? Get that child to the Emergency Room!" WHOA!!

Wanna know what was wrong with him? He was constipated. Yep. I always get that laugh you're holding back right now when I tell people that. I once took my child to the ER in hysterical pain, and paid $500 to be told he's full of crap.

But that was a 5 year old. My almost 11 year old is a different story. Still, I waited all afternoon at home with her, knowing from experience what must be wrong with her.

She cried all afternoon. And moaned. It got worse. And worse. And she begged me to call the doctor. Who told me to get her to the ER.

We even got pushed ahead of a kid with a broken rib who had been waiting for 3 hours.

Not one to be outdone, she puked during the x-ray, and underwent a CT Scan. Just to rule out a freaky case of appendicitis.

But no. No appendicitis. I apparently didn't learn to follow my motherly instincts the first time. Because this blog now belongs to the proud mother whose children are officially full of crap.

Stupid Murphy

So we had a major event take place at our house last week. I'm talking HUGE. One that took weeks of work and years of preparation. We hosted hordes of people and I'm proud to say it was a complete success.

We had a garage sale.

It was only the second one I've ever done, and I remember now why I said NEVER AGAIN after the last one. Steven said it too...for about a year. Then he quit supporting me when I'd want to call the thrift place to pick up some junk. He'd tote it into the attic and store it "because we just need to have a garage sale."

My reply? "Uh, No. We don't. YOU can have the sale. Count me out."

Finally, our attic was full, as in can't shove another freaking box of junk ANYWHERE unless we throw down more plywood. So 7 years after the first sale, I broke down and agreed. Lets have the sale.

The plus side is that my attic is empty! And clean! I weeded out 95% of it and sorted through the rest. Just in time too, because that's right when it decided to turn chilly and I had to find the winter clothes for the Syd.

Only I didn't find them. I went through every single box and bin and bag of clothes, and I found Nothing. My poor baby had to go to school in a summer dress with a jacket. I felt so bad, I went right out and bought her some clothes. Cute ones too!

And guess WHAT!! As soon as I got home...NOT KIDDING...I found the freaking bin of her clothes. And it was FULL. Of course.

My oldest son is a stick. As a baby, he was a fat thing, but that didn't last long. When he's playing outside with all his friends, and they take off their shirts, in an effort to be more cool, you can count his ribs. From across the yard.

Hubs has been on a health kick lately. Well, at least in the sense that he's lifting weights with his buddies at lunch everyday and can't move at home every night for being so sore. Not kidding. Sunday at church, he leaned over and apologized for not putting his arm around me because he couldn't lift it up. Silly man.

But with his health kick has come protein shakes. And Jake has picked up on their power to create muscles. He's obsessed too.

For example, this is what I heard this morning:

Hubs: Jake, what are you doing?
Jake: Making a protein shake so I can get a six pack. I know you for you it's
about getting muscles, but for me it's all about getting a six pack instead.

Is it mean to sit and snicker instead of correcting him? hehehe

On the Hunt

For over 10 years, I've been home with my kids full time. And for those ten LONG years, I have waited for the day I could go back to work. I almost succeeded once: instead of going back to work, I went back to school. And then I had another baby. Talk about one step forward then two steps back!

You know those stupid time killer "surveys" that are passed around on myspace and facebook? I just love the question, "Do you like your job?" Here's my standard answer:

HA! Do I LIKE scheduling my entire life around housework and ungrateful kiddos?

So, with the start of this new school year, Sydney went into preschool! Yay!! So now I'm on the hunt. Don't get me wrong, I don't regret my time at home with the kids. I did it b/c I felt that's what was best for them. It's just HARD! I crave the interaction and satisfaction that I got from an office before I had kids.

But job hunting is not fun! The resume was torture to write. I spent hours on it, and it still doesn't convey how awesome I am (insert really big smiley face). I've had 2 interviews. One resulted in a job offer, but it was pitiful. The other was awesome. It was for a bank--one I actually used to work for years ago--and the manager interviewed me for over 2 hours! I think the best sign was when we were done, and she said to me that she needed to get with her assistant manager and "let her know I like you" and that it would take HR about 2 weeks to get back to me "because they're just very slow."

Slow? Less than 3 days later I had a no thank you email! I cannot figure out why! I was the only one interviewed for the job, so they didn't find anyone else. And following up with the manager directly only resulted in a "I really enjoyed chatting with you and hope we meet again one day. Good Luck!" Blah.

So now I'm back at it again. Two hours spent on a new cover letter last night for another job. Is it really this hard? I just want to work part time while my kiddos are in school, and I can do anything. Really! Geez...

For My Sissi

Honey, while I am completely envious that you reside within spitting distance of the gorgeousness of the BEACH, my heart goes out to you for having to deal with those people on a daily basis. I know how it feels to be one of the small few in a large town who aren't stupid crazy!



So with that in mind, this one's for you!

Why Your Children Should NEVER Follow You to the Bathroom

Because if they do, they won't leave.

Even when you want to emulate toileting to them, inevitably they will lose interest before you can be in a position to control them. Telling them to go "Turn on Ariel" while your pants are down in no way ensures they will comply. The problem?

You finally give up, and just get on with your bizness. And when you unwrap a cork, they excitedly say, "CHEESE!!"

New coupon post up! Go see!

Haircuts

Long ago, in my quest to be frugal (or my desire to not have money blown on something totally unrelated to me) I learned to cut my boys hair.

Provided that I actually do it regularly, they stay looking pretty sharp and it costs me nothing! I get to save the $10-15 per male and spend it how I prefer. Like on my own haircut. Or pedicure.

Anyway, it's something I've been doing for years now. Like for 4 years or so. Jacob was barely 3 when I started. Apparently he has a great memory.

Tonight while cutting his hair, he kept cringing. And whining. Finally, he says to me, "I'm just scared of your scissors cause remember that once you cut my ear? You're going to do it again, so I'm scared. I'd rather go to the haircut place. I'm not scared there."

NOT a good thing to say to an already irritated mother standing over you with scissors in her hand, don't ya think?

Ants in the Pants

One thing about the south I don't like are ants. Fire ants. Growing up, they were so normal I never thought about them not being a problem anywhere else in the same way it took me awhile to realize that Mardi Gras wasn't a holiday anywhere else either. As a kid, you quickly learn what the beds look like, that they hurt, and to watch where you step.

I got into ants once that I can remember, and it was NOT PLEASANT. Of course, we were visiting a friend's apartment, and us kids were outside looking at something on the other side of a fence, so I stood right in them, and with all the grown ups inside, there wasn't anyone to throw me under a strong spray of water to get them off. It wasn't pleasant. And it itched.

I've made a big effort to save my kids from that discomfort. They know to watch where they step and all that. Never had a problem. But since the "baby" doesn't know, when there are beds that pop up in the yard, I don't let her outside until we take care of them, or I stay right next to her. I have been diligent.

Really. I have.

So how then did the child have the opportunity to sit right down on top of an ant bed? With me being 4 feet away from her? Good question!

Just this past weekend, I spent an hour outside walking slowly around the yard and putting out fire ant killer stuff. And just Tuesday afternoon, before I let her out, I walked around and kicked all the mounds to make sure they were gone. Only one bed wasn't. So I watched her very closely when she went in that area of the yard.

And that evening, when we were winding our afternoon activities down, I was winding the water hose back up, while the baby "helped." When I was done, and had turned to put the last rung up, I heard her scream. Apparently, there was a bed right smack up against the patio, hidden in the grass, and she sat down right on it. The ants were all over her shorts and all up and down her leg and foot. So I grabbed the hose, pulled her shoes and shorts off, and started spraying.

My poor baby. I ran her inside and soaked her in an oatmeal bath, administered an ice pack, benadryl, motrin and cortizone cream, and she is fine! No kidding! Ashley says she counted 117 bites on her. I started counting, but I quit when I hit 20 and I wasn't even done with the top of her foot yet. MY POOR BABY!

But she hasn't scratched, hasn't rubbed, hasn't whined, nothing. I haven't given any more medicine since that first night either. What an awesome babe.

Besides looking like she's diseased (and I mean, you know how you can google a rash or something and you get those disgusting pictures that come up? That's what she looks like! And they're all blistered and pussed up and the internet says it will take them 2 weeks to heal like that--ugh!) you'd never know anything happened at all.

Thank God for Blessings!

He's a Big Boy Now!

I have a big boy now! At least that's what he says. It's so funny how kids measure that, because when I didn't have to wipe his nasty butt anymore was when I called it. But apparently I was wrong.

Chris, out of the blue the other day, decided to try to cheer me up. You see, I'd just backed my less-than-one-year-old van into my hubs driver side view mirror. In my defense, kids were outside playing, and I checked behind the van before getting in to make sure there was nothing in my way--bikes or whatever--and his car was safely parked on HIS side of the driveway. So when backing up, I wasn't focused on his car, which apparently was MOSTLY on his side.

Anyway, so while we were checking out my hot new dent, Chris walks over and just says, Mom, take off my training wheels! So I grabbed the wrench and did. And I threw them right in the trash! He literally got on the bike while we held it up, and then he went. And that was that! Yay!

But of course I don't have a picture. *sigh* It wasn't so hot of a day!