Insomnia

It's one in the morning.

I am throwing a Halloween party tonight. A kids Halloween party/ I have 17 hours to do about a half million things, on top of the half million things I MUST do everyday just to maintain my sanity. And, did, I already mention that this is a kids Halloween party? That means I don't even have the respite of alcohol to calm my overfrazzled nerves tomorrow!

Ingenuity

I don't ever want to forget this:

Miles' spelling homework includes the task of creating sentences for each of his spelling words. I like to see what he comes up with on his own before helping him out.

The word "hose" was on his list. This is the exact sentence he came up with:

"No way hose say!"

I love it.

This doesn't even deserve a title

ome time in the last week or so, Jeff finally dragged me to a sushi restaurant he had been dying to try. I admit I was pleasantly surprised by the clean and contemporary decor. I was honestly just happy not to see 3 months worth of unpaid bills, used tissues, and a box of Frosted Flakes on a corner table. The food was excellent too. I filled my plate with Mongolian beef and broccoli, steamed rice, and lo mein. I made a mental note to come back for fresh baked apple crisp. Well, halfway through my lo mein Grace started bugging me about going to the bathroom. She does this at every single restaurant without fail. So I walk her back to the potty and stand outside the stall, while she does her business. After a few minutes she beckons me to wipe her ass. Opposite of the john there s a handwritten sign. It stated:"Please do not throw toilet paper into the toilet"
Surely that was a misprint. Why wouldn't you throw toilet paper into the toilet? Whoever put that sign there made some kind of mistake. But, as hard as I tried not to look, I did. I looked into the little garbage can beside the pot. And it was full of...you know. Used TP. Streaks and everything.
I would have puked if I hadn't feared that a piece of toilet paper was going to jump out of the trash can and touch me.

Better than revenge

Jeff is a lot like my dad. They're both the kind of dad to drop you off at school with the windows down and the greatest hits of the 80's blaring. They're both the kind of dad to chase you down the driveway yelling "make good choices" and "daddy wubs you" as you head for the bus. They're both the kind of dad who fart in the exam room at the hospital and leave right before the doctor walks in. My kids, like me, will suffer years of torture and embarrassment just so they're dad can get a giggle. When I packed up and moved out and finally got married, I'd never thought I'd have to worry about someone doing the "cabbage patch" dance in front of my friends ever again.
I hate to admit that sometimes I even get pleasure from Jeff's little game. It was funny for me, too. I've had a hard time keeping a straight face when checking my daughter out of school wearing the exact same shirt as her. I giggled too, until a few days ago. Jeff drove me up to the front door of Fred Meyer, so I could hop out and run into the ATM. He rolls down the window and says "Don't forget to get a box of Ex-Lax to help take care of that nasty little problem of yours sweetie." I turned around and gave him the best evil eye I could muster up. I was kind of pissed, but only for a minute. A very attractive male walked up beside me and said "Yeah, my DAD still tries to embarrass me too."

I couldn't help myself

"Mom, I need a white sports bra for cheerleading," she said

I laughed out loud. "I don't think your boobies are quite done 'training', how on earth could they be ready for sports?"

New Pants

So, I got some new pants. "Utility pants" is what Old Navy refers to them as. They have 3 little tab thingies on them, which you are supposed to "utilize." I suppose if I were a construction worker I could hang my hammer and clamps from them, or if I was telephone install and repair technician I could keep a can wrench and snips attached to my thigh. But, I'm pretty sure I have previously established that I am just a housewife. I wonder, what might a housewife utilize "utility pants" for? Here are some suggestions:

Keep your cooking utensils at your disposal in case of a macaroni and cheese emergency.

A mere arsenal of cleaning supplies for when an unruly toilet may need your immediate attention.

Bad hair day? Not for long with an array of hair essentials right where you need them.

Or, you know, to keep all the real "tools" close at hand. For those times when you need to service your husband...or yourself.

This may be grounds for divorce

Last night, I walked into the bathroom to wash my face. I reached for a clean washcloth, but noticed there was one already in the sink. The washcloth was wet, and it was folded neatly and hanging over the edge of the vanity. I assumed it was the washcloth Hannah used to wash Parker's face with 5 minutes proir. Still safe to use, right? I turned the warm water on and rinsed the washcloth off a bit. I leaned my head over the sink and washed my face with the cloth, and then brought it out into the TV room to wipe something sticky off Jeff's foot.

"No, no, no, ewww, no, what are you doing?"

"I'm wiping your foot off."

"Not with that, you're not"

"I only washed my face with it. What? You're too good to use the same washcloth as me?"

"Uh, no...but I'm too good to use a washcloth that was used to clean the toilet."

"What do you mean? This a washclot was folded over the vanity."

"Because I put it there. After dinner I came down here and poured some bleach in the toilet. Then I used that rag to wipe down the toilet seat and toilet bowl."

"This is not a rag, it's a WASHCLOTH! You better be kidding."

"I'm dead serious. I used that to clean the toilet. It even has pubes on it"

He began to laugh. I burst into tears. Big, loud sobs...while HE continued to laugh. Real funny until I reminded him he's the one who has to kiss me goodnight.

My stellar parenting skills

Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing anything right. I wonder if I'm effectively passing on my values and moral standards to the kids.

One of my standards happens to be modesty. I think bodies should be covered. The girls don't wear skin tight clothes, low cut shirts, tank tops, mini skirts, short shorts, low waisted jeans, or bikinis. Leave some things to the imagination, for crying out loud. I do my best to lead by example. It's not enough to convice the girls, though.

Katelin was invited to a party at the swimming pool. The stores around here only sell swimsuits that would appeal to hookers and exotic dancers, or fat old women. Seriously. I bought the least slutty bathing suit, but it lacked the "cool" factor.

Of course much drama ensued. Katelin can't understand why I want her to keep things covered. "It's not like I'm gonna do anything, just because of my swimsuit!!" My reply of "I'm the mom and I said so wasn't going to cut it this time." I pulled her aside and explained why I felt so strongly about modesty. These were my exact words:

"Wouldn't it gross you out to know that some greasy 15 or 16 year old boy was masturbating and thinking about your body in a bikini?"

"Yeah like,I guess, that is like really gross."

"You don't want to be USED so some kid can get off!"

"I like never thought about like that."

She saw my point. I have rubbed off on her. All the heart-to-hearts and after school specials in the world have got nothing on me.

I finally understand

For lack of a better word, I call myself a "housewife." I finally understand the true meaning of this word. I spend more time cleaning and maintaining my house and it's inhabitants in a single day than I do having sex with my husband all week.

I got up at 5:45am today. I nursed a baby. I drove a kid to early morning yazz band rehearsal. I straightened one daughter's hair and curled another's...how ironic. I showered and blow dried my own hair. I ironed 2 outfits. I made grits and turkey bacon. I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher. I wiped counters and appliances. I swept the kitchen and dining room floors. I got on my hands and knees and washed the floor with vinegar and water. I supervised one shower. I washed 3 faces and six hands. I got one baby dressed and one preschooler dressed. I made 2 beds. I folded 2 loads of laundry. I tripped over 3 barbies. I changed 3 diapers, one full of runny sticky poop. I drove one kid to early choir practice. I walked another kid to the bus. I took a very gassy dog out 3 times. I read 4 stories. I had one lengthy phone call with a principal. I drank 4 cups of coffee and spilled one. I nursed a baby, again, and put him down for a nap. I went to he bathroom...with the door closed! I french braided an unruly head of hair. All of this well before 10:00am. So far I have "managed" my house for 4 hours and 15 minutes, and I've only just begun.

I have sex at least 4 times a week. So that's 1 hour times approximately 5. I have sex for 5 hours a week.

I guess the term "housewife" is completely suitable. I'm married to my house. Does that mean I'm having an affair with my husband? Oooh! That suddenly makes things all the more exciting.

My girl

Katelin has to be the coolest kid I know. I'm proud of the person she is. I really wish I could take credit for all her good qualities. I wish I had those qualities when I was a kid. She's beautiful. She's petite. She's smart. She's hardworking. She's gregarious. She encompasses every meaning of the word "cool."

Like every other kid in school, she's had to endure teasing. In sixth grade she complained that some chic at school kept telling her that her clothes were stupid. I was immediately furious, and defensive. Her clothes were not stupid. I darn well made sure she dressed in all the coolest clothes. That mean little girl was going to get it. I rehearsed all sorts of whitty quips Katelin could use as combacks. Katelin could see me getting mad as I was pacing and tapping my finger on my chin. She told me to chill, and that she'd already taken care of it. When the girl started in on her, she simply said "so?" That's it. Just "so?" I don't get it. All of the anguish I experienced with one simple little word. I spent the better part of 10 years trying to imagine what all the cool girls would say about my outfit, and hoping if I wore that perfect outfit to school I would somehow be allowed into their sacred little circle. If I could just go back in time and practice saying "so?" in the bathroom mirror.

Then there was the bus incident. Some high school girl demanded Katelin get up out of her seat on the bus. Katelin said no. According to Katelin the girl tossed her backpack on the ground, threw her hands on her hips and informed her she didn't know who she was dealing with. My stomach knotted up. "What did you do? Where did you move?" My little girl didn't move one inch. Katelin told her she didn't care who she was dealing with and she wasn't getting up, and she told her she would be more than happy to share the seat with her. The high school girl huffed and sat next to Katelin and spent the rest of the bus ride staring out the window. When they arrived at school Katelin wished her well and then high fived a bunch of kids sitting around them. Me?? I would have spend that day and probably the rest of the year hunched over my backpack sitting 3 to a seat in the front row.

Who knew it was this easy?? Are these qualities nature or nurture? I still can't believe my kid is one of those cool kids.

Selfish me

This is what happens during the rare moment that I actually indulge myslef in "me" time. And by "me" time I mean going to the bathroom with the door closed.

That's an entire box of Life cereal. And as I was sweeping it up, along with dog hair, dirt, and maybe a toenail clipping or two, Parker hysterically and frantically tried to eat as much of the cereal as possibe. All this just so I could take a poop in peace. I'm so selfish.

See what I mean...

He's kind of an asshole:

Screwing

Parker loves to screw.
Anything he can get his hands on.

I'm not entirely kidding. He does love to screw. Screw on lids. Of containers. That boy can sit for almost an hour with a milk jug and the lid screwing and unscrewing. He isn't really picky either. Pepsi bottles, spice containers, water bottles, and pretty much anything else that has a cap. So yesterday when he was throwing a fit at the grocery store and I desperately needed to stay and finish shopping, I bought a Gatorade and dumped it out just so that little jerk could screw...in peace!

Ew

I never want to forget the cuteness of this:

Gracie "I just puked in my mouth a little bit, and then I drank it."

Da Huz

Sheesh. I can't believe Jeff forgot today was our 746th day anniversary!
I'm not really into mind games, but asking Jeff "do you know what today is?" is one of my favorites. That look on his face. The "oh shit" look. It's really hard to keep a strait face. Especially when I tell him exactly what day it is.

Here is a short list of the oh so special days he has forgotten:
The anniversary of our first email exchange
The anniversary of our first kiss T
he anniversary of the day I first thought I might be pregant, maybe...
The anniversary of the day we found out I was pregnant
The___th day since I have seen my mom
The ___th day of summer, and only___days until school starts again
My new washer-and-dryer "adoption" anniversary.
The anniversary of the first time we left all the kids with a babysitter
The anniversary of the first time he sent me flowers
I assure you the list goes on!

Oh, and I get the same look when he walks in from work and I say "we need to talk."I love my husband. He makes me laugh every single day. I have smiled at him every morning for the last 746 days. I love him more than I did the day I married him. He still gives me goosebumps and butterflies. I still can't wait for him to come home from work everyday. He still can't keep his hands off me, and he still calls me a dozen times a day. We never fight. Really we don't. Nobody believes me, but it's true. Sure we snap at eachother, but never argue Sometimes I wonder when this is all going to end. When are the feelings going to fade? How long is the "honeymoon" going to last? Am I safe? Am I going to absolutely adore him forever? I hear about people getting divorced after 5, 10, 15, 25 years of marriage and it makes me wonder. When did they stop loving eachother?? Are my fears warranted? I hope not. I could never love anyone other than Jeff, and noone could love me like he does. He rocks my world...you know even though he doesn't remember the exact number of times we've had sex.

Conversations with Parker

Parker has an ever expanding vocabulary. It seems like every hour he is saying something new. One of his first words was ball. "Ba," he says at the sight of anything round. Parker also has the tendency to get stuck on a word. Take for example the following conversation:

Me: Oh look Parker look at the cat! Can you say cat?
Parker: Ba

Me: Cat. Say cat
Parker: Ba

Me: Cat
Parker: Ba

Me: Whatever. Can you say dog?
Parker: Ba

Me: Dog. Dog
Parker: Ba

Me: Dog
Parker: Ba

Me: What about baby. Let me hear you say baby!
Parker Ba

Me: You've said it before. BAYBEEE. Say baby
Parker: Ba

Me: Say Mom
Parker: Ba

Me: Say Dad
Parker: Ba

Me: Say Bye Bye
Parker: Ba

Me: Say Banana
Parker: Ba

Me: Fine, I'll go get you the ball. Say ball
Parker: Do (Dog)

Later in the evening I was getting Parker ready for a bath. I was asking him to point to different body parts, with no response. Everything. Eyes, nose, ears, tummy, feet. Only a blank stare. Then I say "Parker where's your dingy?" He promptly grabs ahold of his package and giggles with delight!See what I'm dealing with?

Never

Here is a short list of things that would never come out of my mouth:
"I love getting up at 6 am."
"Oooh! Make me a sandwich with cold meat!"
"I love being pregnant!"
"I love breastfeeding a giant toddler!"
"I wish I had more laundry to do."
"I hate having a job and feeling productive."
"Sure, I'd love extra tomatoes on my salad."
"Gee, I wish I had more time to watch My Super Sweet 16!"
"No thanks. I don't need a pedicure."
"I think it is so cool how strangers point out that my "hands must be full.""
"I never surf the internet mindlessly."
"I hate Cocoa Pebbles."
"I wish I was pregnant right now."
"Don't bother putting your dishes in the sink."
"Dogs are awesome, I wish I had three!"
"I love it when people count my kids at Fred Meyer."
"Gosh the sink has NO dishes in it."
"Weird. You kids are being soooo quiet!"
"I wish more people would whistle!"
"You kids sit back and relax while I do the dishes."
"We should watch Spongebob Squarepants!"
"Let's watch the Hannah Montana marathon!"
"I have too much clothes!"
"Summer sucks, I can't wait for winter."
"We should get a puppy."
"There just aren't enough coffee stands around here."
"I love hearing you kids bicker!"
"Who wants another cupcake?"
"Cooking for 8 is my favorite thing to do!"
"I love my body!!"
"I love to exercise!"
"I have way too much free time!"
"Craigslist? What's Craigslist??"
"I wish more strangers would ask me if I was running some sort of school."
"I love when people ask me if we are on foodstamps or welfare."
"I just can't get enough of the kids screaming my name!"
"I am so happy the baby learned how to yell MOM."
"I am a MILF!"
"Gee honey. You are so talented, the way you add fart noises to every song on the radio."
"I get so much accomplished during the day!"
"Humming is a talent!"
"I would never leave Alaska."
"People from Wasilla are so classy."

Motha's day

Mother's day was this weekend. I have never felt more blessed or loved in my entire life. I woke up at 10 minutes to 7 with 2 of the most adorable boys in my bed. Miles and Parker. Miles was behind me with his head resting on my shoulder softly scratching my back. Parker was nuzzled up to my tummy sleeping soundly. Miles had to remind me to stay in bed for a really long time. I managed to stay for about 10 minutes. I have to be up by 7 to have 6 kids ready for church by 10:30. When I made it up to the kitchen and dining room I was greeted with decorations and posters and flowers. It was so darn sweet seeing their little handmade posters and cards scotch taped to the wall. They made me a breakfast that was edible and coffee that was even better! They presented me with all their gifts. Grace found an Easter egg in the woods behind our house that she cleaned and wrapped for me. Miles planted a sunflower in a pot for me and made me a "super awesome" keychain. Jordan painted some daisies for me. Hannah made a scrapbook with pictures of all the kids for me. Katelin was home safely from her trip in D.C. As I opened each present, I could see their little faces light up. I remember that feeling. I remember watching my mom open presents from us and having that horrible nagging feeling that she was going to be disappointed. No matter what it was she always loved it. Even if they were Christmas bulb earrings. So it was really exciting for me to have the roles reversed and watch them fill with pride at the treasure they had given me.For the first time ever, I think, we made it to church early. The service was good. They had little mothers day games a the beginning. I was sure that I was going to be the mother with the most kids at home. Nope. Some crazy old woman has 11. About halfway between the sermon I walked out with my screaming toddler. It dawned on me that I don't think I have heard an entire sermon in 4 and a half years. Oh well one day. One day I'll get to sit through and entire church service. The important thing is that I am bringing the kids...right?We spent the rest of the day just hanging out. I even got to take a nap. Jeff took the kids and I out to supper at Golden Corral. I was kind of bummed by this choice because it seems like so much work for me. Constantly escorting kids to the buffet and clearing their plates out of the way. But Jeff rocked. He made sure I got to actually sit and eat an entire plate of food. The best thing was I only ended up cleaning up one spilled drink!Later that night Katelin presented me with her present. She had scraped and saved, and even resisted buying little trinkets in D.C. so she could buy me a necklace. A real one that came in a box. It had six itty bitty little diamonds on it. One for each kid. She was really proud of herself. And I was proud of her too. She really is a sweet girl. I went to bed that night feeling incredibly blissful. I am so lucky to have the husband I have. He is an amazing father and husband. He never lets me down. He never makes me sit and wish about the things I wish he would have done. He has done an awesome job at teaching these kids to put others first. Teaching them how to love. I finally feel like a mother. And I love it.

Kate

dropped Katelin off at the airport last night. She is going to spend a week in D.C. with 25 other kids from her school. It is really hard to put into words the way I am feeling right now. For the last 2 years I have poured my entire being into mothering her. Technically I am her step-mother. But I treat her like my own daughter. I love her like my own daughter. I worry about her like my own daughter. I haven't spent any amount of extended time away from her since the moment I married her dad. I have kissed her goodnight everynight for the last 2 years. But... since I did not give birth to her, my mothering instincts aren't as intense as they should be. Like when she throws up, I am not biologically thrown into the mode of caretaker/puke cleaner upper like I am when Grace tosses her cookies. It takes me a second, that's all. So when she left last night I was curious as to how much I was going to worry about her. Well I have worried a lot. I had the hardest time falling asleep. And when I did fall asleep I tossed and turned and woke up over and over. I kept wondering exactly where she was in the air. I worry that she ate a good breakfast this morning. I worry that someone is picking on her. I worry that some greasy old man is ogling her body. I worry that she is going to turn around and see her entire group has dissapeared. My mind is racing!!! I guess that's a good thing though. Maybe I am more of a mother than I thought I was. Man I am going to miss that little girl!

Why???

Why is it that when I worked for a public school I counted every freaking day until Spring Break, and now that I have kids home on Spring Break I am counting the hours until it is over??
They must want me dead. The school district that is, not the kids....I think.

Time is flying

We are celebrating Parker's birthday tomorrow. I can't believe it.
It seems like yesterday I was pregnant and ready to burst. I spent most evenings sitting at the kitchen table watching Jeff work on his computer. I would just sit there and complain. About my back hurting, or my feet hurting, or my ass hurting, or my boobs being too big, or my bellybutton sticking out too far, or my clothes all being too tight, or being to tired, or the house not being clean enough...
I had a false labor on the 2nd of March. I labored all night long. I went to the birth center and got in the tub and everything stopped. The midwives tried for hours to get my labor started again. But, my body just wasn't ready to have that baby. I went home at 8:00am. I was 7cm dilated. I cried. I felt like a failure. I went home and got some much needed rest. By the end of the day it was all moot. Becasue I had science projects to finish with the kids, and I still needed to organize the laundry "cave" before my parents came, and I still needed to pack stuff up for the kids so they could stay at their grandparents house.
I finally went into labor 5 days later. Man was it fast. The new Harry Potter movie came out that day. Jeff ran to the store to buy it, and I started popping popcorn. While he was gone, my tummy started to ache. I figured I just ahd to poop or something! I really didn't think anything of it. We settled in to watch the movie. I layed my head on Jeff's lap and heard a loud pop. We both thought my back had popped. About fifteen minutes into the movie I got up to pee. I stood up and my waters literally splashed on the floor. I started having violent contractions...fast and hard. Within 15 minutes we had all the kids out of their beds and in the car. We dropped them off at about 11:15. I remember standing at the front door, with my left hand propped up against the wall. Jeff eas making all sorts of small talk with Nana and Papa. And it looked like he was really far away. I was really wishing I had taken some sort of birthing class. It hurt. A lot. We got to the birth center at midnight. The birth tub was full. I skipped that for fear that everything would halt. I spent the next 3 hours in the shower. Jeff stood outside the stall while I moaned. He rubbed my back and my scalp, all the while I cried and threatened to schedule a vastectomy the next day. Ha! I got stuck at 9cm. And his head wouldn't come down. So the midwives had to try some pretty invasive techniques. Ouch. I gave up and hopped in the tub. I told the midwives to step out and for Jeff to give me a break. After about 5 minutes I felt this intense feeling sweep over my whole body. I propped myself up on my knees. I felt like a vacuum was sucking my entire body upward and the force of gravity was pulling the baby down. I screamed "NOW!! I am having this baby right NOW!" The midwives rushed back in, and Jeff rushed back to my side. I gave 3 or 4 big pushes and the baby popped out. Hand first. Ouch again. 3:34am They put the baby on my chest and we sat in the warm water for a few minutes. Everybody in the room was sobbing. I can't remember how long it was until the midwife lifted up a leg and all his junk fell out. A boy! Jeff and I were shocked. We still can,t believe he is a boy. I stayed in the tub for a while just staring at him and nursing him. He was plump, but I kept thinking to myself that he wasn't really that big. I got out of the tub and cut his cord and cleaned him up and then they weighed him. 10 pounds 9 ounces. Did I already say ouch? But, I did it. All by myself. I am still amazed that my body had the ability to do such a thing.
It has been a whole year. Here I am sitting at the kitchen table again. I am waiting for his cake to finish cooking in the oven. He is busy rearranging the chairs. So busy all the time. We are all so busy all the time.
I wish I could make time stand still. I wish I could hand on to his chubby little hand forever. I wish I could wake up to his wet open-mouthed kisses forever. I wish I could look into his needy little eyes forever. But, I guess time will keep on flying..........

Cry me a river

No. I am not crying right now. But I did a whole bunch today. I cried outside Katelin's school. I fell in the parking lot. In front of people. While holding the baby. Then I cried at the orthodontist's office. Again in front of people. Because they wanted a thousand dollars today. I cried on the phone with Jeff. This time not in front of people. I cried because we didn't have any french bread for dinner. Then he bought some. And he also bought some cookie dough. So everything is fine, now