Thursday, August 24, 2006

Alright, fine...

As one of my dear, sweet, bossy friends--who shall remain nameless (but her name starts with a "Tiff" and ends in "ani") made very clear, its been over a month since I've last "blogged". So fine...here you go. An update on my not-quite-as-adventurous-as-most-other's life. (Just kidding about the bossy part...you know I love you, right? ;o) )

Yesterday, the kids and I had the joy of caring for the 3 mo. old twins (Baby Ethan and Alison), who will officially become part of my "crew" on Tuesday. They are two of the sweetest, most delightful babies I've met. Now granted, they are a lot more work (double to be exact) than one baby, but are so worth it. Little Ethan just smiles constantly, and little Alison strikes me as a very thoughtful, ponder-you-over-a-bit-then-I'll-warm-up, type of girl.

However, I was blessed to be welcomed into their world with the official "Spit Up On the Shoulder" ceremony. (Ok, one got my shoulder, the other got my pants.)

But oh...to be christened like that brought back such fond memories. I kinda missed that regurgitated formula smell.

And I feel like an idiot--not because of the spit up, but because I didn't take any pictures of them while they were here. (And yes, this was after my husband told me to.) I'll do that next week. I was honestly far too busy with them to even get to that. And while they did take a nap, I got so busy with the others (especially trying to keep them all quiet!), that I just plain forgot. So ya'll will have to wait to feast your eyes upon their cuteness.

In other babysitting news, Porter (19 mos) has taken to throwing little temper tantrums. Its really quite hilarious how he goes about it. Before he launches into full "ticked toddler mode", he first glances behind himself, (checking for hard, sharp or otherwise painful objects that he might land on), and walks backward to a "safer" location if potential "danger" is spotted. He then angrily "throws" himself down on his back, scrunches his face into a pretzel, and cries. (Hahahaha!!!) Told ya it was hilarious.

I don't give him any satisfaction whatsoever. I just stand next to him and say, "Go ahead...throw your fit. I don't care. Come on...let me see some real tears!" Then he'll immediately stop crying and stand up. ;o) What a cornball. All that drama for nothing.

I'm in the throws of PMS and there isn't a single crumb of chocolate to be found in this house! (And believe me, I've looked!) However, the forever-nameless-friend mentioned at the beginning of this entry, made the most scrumptious oatmeal chocolate chip cookies the other day. (Slurp!!) She was so thoughtful to put enough cookies in the baggie for every child to have 2, while I snarfed down 3. (Ahem)

Hey, I couldn't very well leave 1 lonely cookie to be fought over by 5 sugar-buzzed kids, right? That would make me a horrible person. Of course, I could've been a really nice babysitter by giving the last one to Porter when he awoke from his nap...but I think I read somewhere that toddlers shouldn't have sugar. Stunts their growth. And besides, I'm full grown and already short. See? I'm nice afterall.

Tonight will be Abby's first ever sleep-over. She'll be spending the night w/ Porter and his sister, McKenna. Abby of course, is totally 100% excited, whereas I'm already missing her. :o( I must be one of the biggest "wimpy" Mommies out there to miss my kids so much when they're gone on over-nighters. I seriously have a hard time functioning without all of my kids at home. Call me what you will, but I don't like the fact that they enjoy "checking out of the nest" so soon. Even if it is for one night.

Ethan's pondering the idea of growing his hair long. For the first 7.5 yrs. of his life, he's always insisted on getting a haircut. But now, thanks to a recent trip to CA where he met the son of one of Dean's old friends who happens to have longish hair and is the same age as Ethan (sorry, that was a long sentence), and of course, Dean's hair nearly reaches his behind...the subject has finally come up.

I can't say that I'm happy about it, as hypocritical as that makes me. Yes, I love my husband's hair, and have always loved long hair on men in general. But my son?! My precious little son?! I draw the line, sorry.

So in order to persuade him back to the "good side" of the Force, I told him that if he does grow his hair, he'll have to wash it more often. ;o) Remember, this is the child that *freaks out* in the bathtub over a drop of water rolling down his forehead. He absolutely hates getting his hair washed, so I figured...get him where it hurts, right? (Hahaha!)

Hey, I'm a Mom...its my right to play "dirty" if I find it necessary.

Its working, by the way. He's very hesitant to cancel his hair cut this weekend. :o)

Hey, earth-shaking newsflash: I'm not going to be an Awana Cubbies leader this year. (Gasp, shock, horrors) Alas, it's true. I've come to the painful decision that I need to have one, solitary day off each week where I'm not responsible for anyone/thing else except my own family and self.

Now I know I'm going to miss the children (actually I already do!), but I want to see how it feels to be on the "other side" of the fence---the side that drops the kids off, and comes back when its over! :o) I've never been there, but the brochure looks nice.

And you never know. I might miss the Cubbies so much, that I change my mind and go back to it next year. But for now, you'll find me loafing on the couch next to my hubby on Sunday evenings.

Writing this entry is taking far longer than I thought. Thank God for the "Save as Draft" button! :o)

This week has really flown by for me. I can't believe tomorrow will be Friday! So much goes on here on Fridays its incredible. To name but a few things; one of my babysit-ees goes home early that day (like right after breakfast), there are baths to give, cleaning to get done, Shabbat school lessons/craft/snacks to plan, my children go to Grandma's for the evening, etc. Fridays are generally nuts around here.

Sierra's currently in her room, scaling Mt. Killer Closet. (That girl has a LOT of clothes, 90% of which were all given to her by friends of ours.) The bad thing is that she has so many garments now, that she doesn't have room for them all. So she's stuffing a garbage bag full to give away. (Give it away or throw it away, that's my motto!)

I sure hope she tosses more than when I last looked... I could use a few more hangers. (Gee, maybe I need to make a give away pile, too??)

Dean says I like to give/throw things away too much. He makes it sound like a bad thing. (Sheesh!) I admit, I'm rather partial to tossing out bags full of toys. "If you have so many toys that you can't keep your room clean, its time to throw some out." That's my other motto!

Personally, I think that's a very good motto. I don't see the problem with it at all. I do think however, that my husband's *far* too emotionally attached to the kids' toys. ;o) Maybe even more so than they are. (For example, I know for a fact he's pulled toys out of the garbage can after I've thrown them away...humph...infidel. And yes, before you cast your "Mean Mommy" ballots, I did check with the kids first.)

I just can't stand a lot of clutter. It does something horrible to my psyche.

Enough of that. Wanna hear something funny? Earlier today, while at physical therapy, Dean's therapist/doctor (whatever you want to call her), gave him a new exercise for his neck. She told him that if he didn't get enough pressure or whatever (can you tell I was listening intently?), she said, "Have Wife rub it, too."

Excuse me? Wife?! Is that my name now?

What am I? A cave-woman?

Gee, can't you just picture it? Allow me to help....Imagine my lumbering, barely-able-to-walk-upright Husband dragging his hairy, bare-footed body draped in various animal skins (the latest in Neanderthal fashion) into our cave-home. I'm busy slaving over a hot stove (fire) preparing our evening meal (roast pterodactyl). Suddenly, the mighty Barbarian shouts, "Ugg! Wife! Come! Must rub neck! Grunt, grunt."

And just what will he do if I don't? Make me sleep outside with the wooly Mammoths?!

Honestly, the nerve of some people...

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