what'd he just say

So, we bit the bullet and joined a local swimming pool. Our friends have been saying for years that we needed to join, but for one reason and another and another and another, including the price, we just haven't. This year, they have waived the joining fee (a huge chunk of change) lowering it to the "barely affordable" range.
Well, the pool is beautiful, the kids are having a blast so far. They also have a baby pool that is shaded which the babies love equally as much as the big kids love the big pool (including King, who spent an hour or more goofing around with another dad doing silly jumps off the diving board).
So, all day today, #4 wants to go to the pool and swim in the baby pool. Only he isn't calling it baby pool.
"What is that you are saying?"
"ktpool."
"Huh, Tadpole?"
"ktpool."
" Tide pool?"
"NO, Mamma! Cat. Pool!!!!!"
"Catpool?"
"Yes!" he said with much relief.

Catpool? Cat pool. Oh, no, he didn't. Yes, he must have thought we were calling it a kitty pool.
Kiddy pool to a 2 year old must translate to kitty pool. What a hoot! That child gives me more laughs. I wonder, does it occur to him that there are no cats around? Well, maybe one. One very cool kiddy!

truth in advertising

I'm sorry, but they are wrong... you can't tell who has been playing "fill my piehole" with the can of Whipped Cream. Tamper evident cap, huh? Yeah. Right!

hoping for a smooth landing

The last week of school is upon us. For the two older ones, this means exam time. For me, it means the last week of sanity. Beginning Monday morning, you may as well bring me a white jacket. It is by far the worst week of the year.

The kids buy into the false belief that they have NOTHING to do for two and a half months. They think they can sleep and "laze" around and just be. The problem is, they don't do well with NOTHING to do. It is during this incredibly long 5 day span that I also learn that they don't do well with NOTHING planned. Therefore, by default I become the Activity Director.

By week two, we have gotten things ironed out and everyone is ok with their schedules. But until then, The Pilot has turned on the please fasten seatbelt sign.

but the acoustics in here are great

Earlier tonight, during the final stretch before the two little ones finally go to bed for the night and I get to stop answering the question "Mommy?" (which, I will allow myself a tad bit of a tangent here - why is it that kids can't just ask the question? Why do they have to do the "Mommy???" thing first? I mean, if I could only hear it once or twice a day, I don't think it would grate my nerves as much. Nails on a chalkboard have nothing on answering the question before the question.)
So, where was I before I digressed? Oh yes, number five, that sweet little baby, was in the bathtub splish-splashing and having a grand time when all of a sudden, behind me I hear her slightly older brother.

You know the one.

His voice sounds BIG. I whip around to see what in the world has given his voice quality such robustness.

And then I did it. Again. I made a sentence with words that wouldn't normally go together, like the day (12 1/2 years ago, in fact) that I said, "Don't drool on my blue suede shoes!" Only it went something like this:
"Son!?!?!?! Get. Your. HEAD! Out of the toilet!!"

now we are thirteen

Well, number one turns thirteen tomorrow! Two months ago, I had King put on his calendar to come home from work a little early so that she and I could have a "date" together. I told her that if she wanted to, she could have her ears pierced (the age 13 rite of passage in our family), we could get some make-up (blush and lipstick only), and we would pick out a special fragrance for her (nothing too strong).

Tonight was a testament to proper planning. She and I had a BLAST! We went to the mall and did all the above mentioned things as well as went out to eat and then did a "victory lap" at Old Navy.

My favorite part was when we went into the little picture booth thing and had our strip of four pictures taken. She chose the theme (a new feature for any of you who remember the black and white photo strips we had lo those many years ago) "Best Friends" to go above our pictures.

Even though she got all the prizes, it was me who got the best gift of all... time with one of my best friends in the whole world.

what a special day

It was a great day... the day my third child has been waiting on for quite some time now.... her First Holy Communion!
She was able to sleep "late". I got her up, sent her downstairs where King had her breakfast ready. Then she came back up the stairs, got dressed, and I fixed her hair and put on her veil. Goosebumps break out on me when I think of how beautiful she was.
Simple. Elegant. Beautiful.

Christ's child.

It was a relaxed day. We didn't get to the church two hours early to stake out seats like some (first-time parents) did. We didn't snap tons of photos. I did get some pictures (the non-digital kind) to put into her photo album. We didn't try to force our way into the pew in order to best be able to see that moment when she meets Christ for the first time in the Eucharist.

This day was not for us. It was for her.

She sat with her class. Lots of second graders, no doubt all with a case of the butterflies, all sitting together. Waiting. We caught glimpses of her now and then, but I knew she was in Good Hands. Today in a brand new way, she belongs to Christ.

First Communion. A sacred moment. Very powerful.

er... nevermind

Today's lesson:
A double entendre tends to get lost on a 2 year old.

Example:
Boy walks into room first thing in the morning and announces that "the sun is awake".
I answered back, "Yep, he sure is."
(pause)
"The sun and my son are both awake," I say, explaining the clever double entendre that he stumbled upon.
(pause)
Poor Mommy, she must not have caught it the first time.
He repeats himself, "the sun is awake."

hold your nose and vote

I don't know who came up with that little witticism, but I heard it first from my sister. I tend to think in Far Side cartoons anyway, so it really got me tickled.
Someone I admire a lot has a blog (in addition to a successful radio show on WSB out of Atlanta!) recently posted his opinion of Rush Limbaugh's "Operation Chaos". Though I posted a comment, I thought I would also include it on my own blogspot.
I do not agree with Allen that voting is a divine gift. I think it is a right, a privilege and a responsibility and should not be done flippantly. I also think that no matter which side of the fence you happen to be standing on, in this election, there are three fresh, giant cow pies that cannot be avoided.
Furthermore, there are two people running who the American people basically know about. There will be relatively few surprises if one of them wins. The third candidate is shrouded in a veil of the unknown and there are too many scary possibilities (aka race war) if he should be elected.
I have no idea if "Operation Chaos" really makes a big difference or not, because when a voter steps into that booth, I'd be willing to bet that 9 times out of 10, they vote their own conscience anyway. Sure, there is strength in numbers, but in the voting booth, it's just you and that lever, baby!

duh

It's less than 5 days until number 3 makes her First Holy Communion! We were supposed to do a novena (pray each night for 9 days) to help us all prepare our hearts for the big day. We did really well for the first 3 nights......

*insert sound of crickets chirping here*

..... I swear, my kids got gypped in the ol' mom and dad department.

hope you are a pigeon all day long

Happy Mothers Day!

I have been thinking a lot about the upcoming greeting card cash-cow...er... I mean Mothers Day. My sister-in-law and I were talking the other day about the fact that there is NO other area in a woman's life, after becoming a mother, that we are as vulnerable.

Think about it. When you had your first child, if anyone at all even made the slightest suggestion that you were not doing something exactly right, it was like cutting your heart open. You try so hard to make every decision you make be the right one. I mean, who wants to screw up their kid to the point that there is a book deal later in life, right?

Maybe it's just me, but I never wanted to be a "guest" on Oprah (or Jerry Springer!) and have one of my kids lambaste me on international television. I can hear it now:

"I remember the first time I heard you yell at me. You sounded like a cow bellowing. It scared me so bad that I still have nightmares about it." (through tears) "What could I possibly have done to elicit such an outburst." (now sobbing) "I was only a little kid." (boo hoo hoo kid runs off stage... camera follows.... crowd starts booing me and throwing things)

I put so much thought and effort into doing everything "ever-so-perfect" when I just had one, and then two kids that I was probably certifiable. Many times my heart felt heavy when I discovered I had made the "wrong" decision. My sis-in-law and I decided that this "guilt" is definitely not from God. That kind of head game could only be the result of the evil one.

We mothers do the best we can at every moment. Some moments do not have the capacity to yield the same wonderful results as other moments, but we are still doing the best we can. For example, some days I might handle a milk spill quite well: "Oh, honey, that's ok, it was an accident. Here, let me get that." Other times it might be more like: "Dear God in Heaven, help me! I have just vacuumed and mopped this dining room... why are you standing there like a statue? Quick, run get a roll of paper towels!!!"

A friend of mine has a signature on all of her emails, a quote which says, "If you can't be a good example, be a horrible warning." And as Mary Chapin Carpenter sings, "Some days you're the windshield, some days you're the bug."

Hope this Mothers Day finds you are "the pigeon" rather than "the statue".

a most magical evening

There are moments when you are so happy for and proud of your child that you think your heart will simply pop. Tonight was one of those nights.

hmmmm....

Does it count as animal cruelty when your "spirited child" eats one extremity at a time of his animal crackers?

where's the little man when you need him

Rumplestiltskin, Rumplestiltskin, where for art thou Rumplestiltskin?


I am NEARLY finished with "the dress". I still have to hem it yet. I've had the midnight oil burning for the past several nights (getting to bed past 1a.m.) and in my weary stupor wished I had a visit from this little troll.

However, I quickly rationalized that if I had to give him my first born child as payment for his help, then there would be no reason to be sewing this dress!