Out of the running for Mother of the Year!

Super Bowl Sunday, I lost any chance of winning the title. 
I went from being aghast and shocked and laughing out of pure shock to grieved and shedding a few tears. 
Again with the whole head injury thing.   I am beyond being able to make decisions. I defer all decisions to hubby. 

Fun Girl asked to have friends over for Super Bowl.  I didn't grasp all the details till the day before and day of...10+ girls invited!  It was all on Fun Girl to do what needed to be done.  The guys went to my in-laws.  Well, all except Hockey Player.  I took him to hang with the 7/8th graders from church.  Little Princess stayed with us at the house and had her own friends over.

Somewhere along the way, I understood the game ended at 9.  Hubby would be home and pick up Hockey Player and all would be good.  I can't keep up with departure times and such to get Fun Girl to work on time much less navigate all the stuff that gets thrown at me during the day.  I have turned into a one thing a day kind of gal.  Get to thinking about too many things, my head hurts, I get tired, I get really tired. 

So back to the party.  My job besides chaperone, is to work on my clutter mess while every one is doing their thing.  I do my job well.  I reduce my mountain by about half.  A beautiful aesthetic improvement to the room.  Hubby comes home. Do you notice?? Do you notice???  Compliments. Winding down.  Chidlren sent to bed.  I am thinking I might just go to bed and how sleepy I am starting to get.  Then the hubby asks me, "Where's Hockey Player?" 

I don't know.  Hubby looks at me really hard. 

Talking about an hour and a half after Hockey Player's party ended.  The kid didn't even call me.  Hubby looked like he was going to blow out of frustration.  He needed sleep.  He needed to go to work.  Called the parents hosting....I made record time to the house.  Stuttered and stammered and slurred through my apologies...

Why didn't HOckey Player call?  Well, one of his friends had just left 30 minutes prior.  He knew we would come.  Just figured we had to wait till all the kids had left our house.  The parents...well they knew what Super Bowl night can be like with a bunch of kids that can't drive.  Figured we were up to our eyeballs in the chauffeur business.    Nope, just brain damaged and forgot one.  I am so glad I had not climbed under the covers yet.  The only thing that could make this story worse. 

Hockey Player totally unphased.  He didn't even remember this was the second time Dad and I had miscommunicated and left him waiting.  He really is too quiet of a kid... he needs to become more of a pest and NOISY...  I feel like pond scum.  I love that boy way to much to forget him.  I am glad I didn't wake to a phone call wondering if all was okay and if we wanted our son back ?!?

Body Art courtesy of Sibling Love

After a full day of running around, I sat down to do some memory work with THE MAN.  His shirt shifted and I was like, "What is that?"  Lifted his shirt to discover his latest body work.  Love how the belly button (aka tickle dot) is incorporated into this work of art.  It is then I discover he didn't do it!  He asked his sister to and she honored his request. 

Escape artist

It is said it is safest to contain your pet in the car. 

That is all good and well thought out.

Except for when they figure out how to escape.

Then they escape.

Then they get under the seat.

Then they start to gasp, wheeze, gag and choke.

Then the driver pulls over.

Rescues said cat and puts back in box.

Then said cat sticks head out.

Then daughter no longer gets to work on home work.
Her job...keep the flap closed!

 

Their eyes were causing trouble!

My two youngest boys remind me tremendously of my childhood.

My older three are the kind of children that could allow a parent to become prideful.

They simply just never participated in the,

"He's touching me!!! 

She's looking at me!!!

They breathed on me!!!"

At least not until the younger two boys came along.

GOD knew the risk of me becoming prideful as a parent.

He knew it.

I have a tendency to get comfortable in my abilities.

He knows that.

So He allows circumstance to keep me on my knees. 

To keep me focused on HIM.

To NEED Him.

Because He loves me.

Because He knows without Him, my life is nothing.

One day, the sun is shining.

There is promise in the day.

A promise to accomplish much.

A promise of time together as a family.

A promise that I will need my Heavenly Father to survive,

as I step out of the bathroom, dressed and ready for the day

when I hear my two youngest striving against the other's existence.

**SIGH**

Lord, help me to get through today.

As I sit at the table, trying to encourage children to start school.

It begins, "He is looking at me!"

"Nuh huh ~ He is looking at me!"

**Sigh**

God reminds me of the poster board in my room, I recently pulled out.

The older children come running.  Hanging over my shoulders.

What are you doing?

Shhh!

Still sitting at the table, the two youngers are still looking at each other and annoying one another.

Supposedly, trying to do school but can't 'cause "HE" is looking at him.

** SIGH **

And I plop these poster board dividers down and tell them to do school.

They laughed.

I didn't, my sense of humor had left me.

I think I forgot to ask God, to sustain my humor for the day.

I wish I could say it solved all my problems. 

One of my "sweet" little gifts discovered the poster board shielded him from my view and he snuck away to play instead of doing school.

**SIGH**

But at least they weren't looking at each other.

 

It makes me kinda wonder....

Hmmm, I just rediscovered this post that I never posted...

Tonight, I was in the mode to make waffles for dinner. But then my tummy started flip flopping. ?? Haven't figured that one out. Unless, of course it was meant for another wonderful blogging tale to share. :) So I am doubled over and not sure what is wrong and I holler for Fun Mom to help start the waffles. Seeing, we have to be on the road in 40 minutes, at least a few of the crew would get started on dinner.

Little while later Fun Mom, comes in to share the time with me. I tell her I will do my best to get her to church on time. Still doubled over.

She comes back about 5 minutes later, very calmly.

"Mom, there was flames shooting out of the back of the waffle iron. I unplugged it, nothing else was damaged. The flames got close to the cookbook and cd player, but they are fine. "

Totally dumbfounded, trying to pull myself together. I had her run some water in the bathtub, put the waffle iron in the water (not plugged in, of course) and out the door we went.

Call Big-O-Daddy-O.

Tell him, I am trying to decide what to do about dinner. Seeing there was a fire in the kitchen, do I go buy a new waffle iron or do a drive-thru?

BODO: "Ummm, is the kitchen ok??"

I had to quickly explain the fire to him.

He is relieved and said it was a drive-thru night.

But what gets me is the calmness of my daughter. I think she has lived in this family too long. Is that possible? Is our life so eventful, that she doesn't freak out when there is a fire in the kitchen? I knew she had first aid down pat when she started bringing the neighbor kids down the street to our house to patch them up, but this...???

So I am trying to figure how many fires we have had in our kitchen...

I can only think of one in the oven. God was gracious and merciful, because shortly before that one happened, I had read an article about kitchen fires. It said if there was a fire in the oven, keep the door shut and it will extinguish itself. It did! !

So now I wonder what God might be preparing Fun Mom for in life?

Disaster Relief

Crisis Intervention/Prevention

Emergency Room Worker of some kind

A mother to a brood of wild and crazy children, more so than her siblings

Late Night Snacking....

This is what happens when the beast is let in while I am working downstairs and not ready to go to bed yet!

Do you think he found the snack he was looking for?

I don't think so...
The trash can was remarkably clean by
the time I got upstairs.

BUT !!

This time he didn't get on top of stove
to get these delightful little
leftovers!

Brain Damage

Been back in town less than 24 hours and things are getting interesting.
First Dad's Bud is in the bathroom after bedtime crying.  Dad checks on him and starts yelling for me. 
Completely not the normal way things go around here.  Normally, I catch the boys doing something and especially if it is in the bathroom, I holler for the Dad to come take care of HIS boys.
I hurry up the steps to find Dad's Bud's face a mess. 
Eyes swollen shut.  Hive like bumps all over it.  Crying.  First thing that comes to mind is all the bleach water in the bath tub.  Convinced Dad's Bud has been into the bleach water I strip him down and get him in the shower.  Spraying him in the face, he cries, "It burns! It burns!"  I holler for baking soda and dump it all over his head.  Hoping to neutralize anything that he has got on his skin.  In the event, it is an allergic reaction we give him benadryl.  I am still flushing his eyes out when The Dad leaves to pick up Fun Girl.  He is already half and hour late to pick her up. Doctor on call has been paged. 
I peek into Dad's Bud's eyes.  They are milky and really red.  His vision is blurry.  Since we don't know what he got into, she recommends the ER.  I have him over the tub, pouring water into his eyes.  Flushing them like crazy.  Dad pulls in and Dad's Bud hops into the car and off they go. 
Still relatively calm, I am sick to my stomache like nothing else.  Shooting up prayers that are all choppy and and a couple of words here and there.  Can't think clearly.  Dad calls to say it will be a while.  He doesn't know what I know and I insist he tells them we think he may have got bleach in his eyes.  Boom, they are seeing him. They flush his eyes and take a look.   They reassure him he is not in trouble.  We had been doing that as well.  But there were these great big pauses when he would answer us.  The kind of pauses that make you question a kid's sincerity.  He gets adamant he did not get into the bleach water.  Adamant enough that Dad believes him.  After the exam and questioning the docs believe he was having an allergic reaction to an unknown substance!
Relief. 
This morning, his vision was clear.  Clear enough to do school, much to his disappointment.  Eyes and face were returning to normal.  The Dad, thinks now, he must have got into the Cool Ranch Buffalo Wings Chips.  The ones with tobasco sauce and other spicy stuff.  Why can't they just like the normal plain chips like their momma.

If that wasn't bad enough.  Dad's Bud was finally tucked into bed.  I was finally unwound and getting sleepy and The Man wakes up.  Not only does he wake up, but he is crying.  But not the tear sobbing, wimpering crying.  Oh no. 
He is sobbing, and sobbing and hollering (and I quote), "I have brain damage!"  "Brain damage!" 
"BBBBBBrain Dammmmage!"
Brain damage? I promise, I never dropped THIS kid on his head.
Really.  As a preschooler I might have thought of it...but I have NEVER dropped The Man on his head.  So where does he get the idea to wake me up at night crying about Brain Damage to his Dad and me. 
The nerve.  Doesn't he know we just finished an ER shift and we are tired.
Brain Damage!
A headache.  He has a headache.  Sinus stuff.  Stuffed up, goopy nose.  But in his vocabulary, only Brain Damage works.

This Mom had to be up and out of the house early. Like 7:30 early.  Time change + traveling (which I have yet to get to)+2 exciting night time escapades with boys = One Brain Damaged tired mommy at 11:00am
Know what I did?
I took a nap. 
Not only did I take a nap with Dad's blessing.
I took a 4 hour nap.  Oh yeah.
Kids are in bed now.  Sleeping ever so good.  Guess what?  I am heading that way as well.

Cause he is goofy and we love him..

Flutter Nutter found a sticker laying around.  Decided he needed to be a little creative and animated. 

His praise hands !

His growl look !

Fist pump!

Check out those bottom two teeth missing!

Hard to believe when he does things like this, that he is six!

Guess what I did today??

I vacuumed our dog! Yep! Sure did.
He was shedding, hair was getting everywhere. We would brush and the hair would fly off him. Kept thinking, would be kind a cool if we could use the vacuum and keep the hair from going all over.
So I tried it.
He let me do it! Okay, someone held onto his collar. Hence, he knew he was caught and didn't struggle. BUT..he did not growl. He did not try to get away. He did not nip at me or the vacuum or the person holding his collar at the time. He just sat there.
I used the vacuum this morning.
Then this afternoon, he stunk. Like barn stink. yech! So we gave him a bath. As the water hit him in the shower, chunks of hair started to fall off of him. I was flabbergasted. I scrubbed and rinsed. Before a few minutes passed, I was covered in hair. I had no idea a bath would cause his hair to just fall off of him.
So we got the brush (defur-inator) and more chunks of hair. Needless to say, Little Princess had the job of keeping the drain clean and free from the hair. Dried him and let him loose. Still lots of hair on the hand after petting him.
We got the vacuum out again. He looks 10 pounds lighter. He wasn't obese. He was HAIRY! He is really calm tonight. No bouncing around or trying to get on the table. Thinking we might need to keep the vacuum out all the time.

Check those Expiration Dates !

It is important to check those expiration dates. You never want to get something rotten. Last night, Flutter Nutter came to show me his latest escapade! Good thing he showed me, Big-O-Daddy-O doesn't believe in little guy body art. I took a close look and said, "Yep, you are expired." "That means you are rotten!"
Flutter Nutter said, "Yep!" and laughed. Then he took off to watch more Wii. (Big brothers were playing, which of course why he had to find something to do with his hands. Date stampers are so much fun!)
So what do you do with an expired and rotten three year old?!? Send them to bed and take a few pictures the next day for proof that he is spoiled rotten!

My laundry belongs in a comic strip!

Somedays I feel like I live the Sunday Comics.

Flutter Nutter's Jesus blankie got dirty. So I had to step on it and get the laundry started.

I have been ignoring the laundry for 2 or 3 days now. But I do want Flutter Nutter to go to bed tonight at a decent hour.

So Little Princess gets excited. Cause she has cleaned her room and has lots of laundry for me.
I can't help but roll my eyes as I type. I start sorting the laundry. Little Princess when did you wear this last? I don't know...but I know I wore it! Okay, well I'll wash it....

Little Princess WHEN did you wear this? (I happen to know it was an option for her birthday but she chose something else. How do I know this? Cause I had the pleasure of listening to a looooong explanation about outfit selection, but not by Little Princess, but by the Fun Mom. So, back to when did you wear this? "OH! Sorry!" off to the clean laundry pile.

Little Princess is adorable. She is sweet. She is Miss Bubbles around here. But she would rather not put away laundry. Let it be on the floor and just throw it back into the dirty laundry when she wants a clean room! ARGH!

So I am still sorting and I holler to Hockey Player, "do you have any dirty laundry?"
Hockey Player, "Yes". "Do you like clean underwear?" (my very subtle hint to him to get up and go get the laundry) Very quietly, I am sure he was hoping I wouldn't hear he answered my rhetorical question, "No!" I just wanted to fall over laughing. But I can't, I just can't give in. This is from the same kid, I once upon time had to ask him, why it seemed I never had the opportunity to fold his clean underwear. His response, "I was trying to make less laundry for you by wearing them for a week." AIY ! ! ! To which, I had to respond, please make laundry for me to do. I don't mind washing your laundry. (Total opposite response to Little Princess!)

Not that the other 3 don't have laundry conversations.
Flutter Nutter produces the most laundry of them all. He changes 3-5 times a day. He would jsut assume be naked. Since, half the time we can't find the original outfit cause he has tossed and hid it somewhere we have to pick out yet another one. Or we do find the original outfit and it was wet cause he played in the sink or "something".

Daddy's Buddy.... he is giving me some quiet in this arena for now. He just likes certain clothes. They have to feel a certain way, "cozy" as he calls it. He used to change more than any of the others. Now he is fine with just one outfit a day. But his one outfit serves multiple purposes. Got a shirt? Don't need napkins or tissues.... Need I say more?

Fun Mom well she is 13. 13, need I say more? New outfit for running to the gas station. Another outfit cause she sneezed, oh, my mistake brother sneezed in her direction. Packing for Ireland will be an adventure with her.

Ahhh, Ireland. I will get 9 days of no laundry. I won't get to chuckle and imagine the bubble forming overhead like in the cartoons. On a side note, nothing might be left of the closets and dressers when I get back. Since Big-O-Daddy-O doesn't have any hair to pull out, he just might start throwing away clothes instead of washing them! I do hope he doesn't resort to that option. Shopping with the 5 of them is a whole other cartoon strip. One in which I get carted off to the Happy House!

Boys and Dennis the Menace, so much is true

For the last 4 days, I have been trying to get Daddy's Buddy to shower. My kids are shower fans. Prefer the showers to baths. Who am I to argue as long as the job gets done. Well Daddy's Buddy has developed this negative attitude to showering. He doesn't want to miss anything. I send him off, he gets distracted..."can't do it! "
Tonight... " I CAAAAAAN'T, YOUUUUUUU'RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEE SO MEEEEEEEAN!" I DOOOON'T LIIIIIKE YOUUUUUUUUU! YOUUUUUUUUUU ARE SOOOOOO MEAN!
Then I go to check on him. He is hovering in a corner in the shower. He has turned the water on too hot. He never thought to holler for help. Fix the water. He is feeling good. Now he does NOT want to get out!
Finally out, I get a big hug and snuggles.
WHY! ! Why, can't the men in my life figure out I am all about their good and I am soooo usually right wbout things!

Oh the tears!

Oh the disappointment !
When you are 3 and have spent the last 2 years with food allergies.
The doc says to start trying foods he couldn't have.
Mom makes Brownies.
But first there is dinner at McDonalds to experience the joy of McD's french fries !
Then there is dessert.
Everyone gets a piece.
When all done, everyone scatters to do their thing.
When you are 3 you climb on the counter.
You get a plate.
You get more brownie.
You aren't too smart.
You bring the plate downstairs.
Mom takes one look, takes plate and heads upstairs.
There is alot of brownie on the plate.
Mom looks at the plan.
Flutter Nutter has scooped out half the pan and put it on his plate.
The cries and sobs escalate as he is twarted.
Then silence, he has somehow found lollies. 2 of them.
Mom here's ha ha ha, I have lolli.

This all after Flutter Nutter demostrates his ability to climb over the gate railing to the stairs to get downstairs to the big kids board game! AIY! (the gate is one we had built to match the stair railing is not something easy to scale.) OIY, I guess the baby stage is over and we are into the challenging preschool years.