Zits and Ziploc

On Friday, Daniel and I decided to do something a little special with the kids. We only had the four oldest boys with us (it is easier to do outings with only a portion of the kids.) We ended up at Downtown Disney, which was crowded, but fun. Anyway, our outing taught me two valuable lessons, which I feel compelled to share.
1. Spousal grooming (similar to the custom of gorillas), is NEVER okay in public. The two people I saw at the Lego store had no clue as to what socially acceptable public behavior is. The woman felt the need to pick through her husbands hair and squeeze his blemishes. Something that could have totally waited until they were in the privacy of their own home. The worst part was, he didn't even flinch. If I even dared to try and groom Daniel in public, I would have to find another ride home. It was disgusting. I so badly wanted to say something, but knew it would be of no use. This couple looked like they were one Lincoln log short of a cabin (if ya know what I mean). Please people, let's save zit picking for a more appropriate venue. Can I get an Amen?
2. Ziploc bags are an essential car staple. I usually do not keep them in my car, but will always have a box handy from now on. Here's why: barf. Need I say more? Probably not, but I'll elaborate anyway. On the way home from Disney, Aiden started complaining of a stomach ache. We pulled into Jack In The Box, but were unable to access a toilet, as it was inhabited by a bum (or bummer as Trenton calls them). So we rolled on, hoping that Aiden could hold his deposit until we could find another place. A few minutes later, Aiden announced that he was going to throw up. I frantically searched for an empty cup, but found a Ziploc instead. With great haste, I made my way towards his row, praying that he could postpone the event until I could reach him. Hallelujah!!! I made it just in time. The beauty of this scenario is that I saved the car seat from a terrible fate, and the domino effect that the stench of barf tends to initiate, just by choosing the blessed Ziploc baggie. I zipped it,tossed it, and we were good to go. It was a true light bulb moment. It made me wish that I had a few Ziploc bags the time that we were stuck in the van with diarrhea stricken kids and a duffel bag...it wasn't pretty.

Eleanor Amelia

Even though yesterday was Ella's birthday, I have a little poem for her. I warn you, it is impromptu and probably will be very corny:

Eleanor

Born one week late (worth gaining all that weight)

Tiny and sweet (6 labors... I was beat)

Marlie was elated ("brothers are overrated")

Two years have flown by fast (I thought you'd be my last)

So smart, so brave and strong (off to school before long)

Speaking in full verse (has even learned to curse) :(

Devil in your eyes (but you're an angel in disguise)

Thank you Jesus for this girl (the world's an oyster, you're it's pearl)

Trenton William

Happy 6th Birthday Trenton William. This poem is for you...

• T is for trouble, you've caused a whole darn lot:



• 
  
  
  R is for remember the time you smeared peanut butter all over your body and the whole kitchen?... I do



• 
  
  
  E is for ever considered a career in demolition? You've had tons of practice!



• 
  
  
  N is for never did confess to digging the dead gopher got out of the trash and dismembering it



• 
  
  
  T is for two dozen raw eggs you've splattered on carpets throughout the house



• 
  
  
  O is for only when you are sleeping do I dare sit and relax



• 
  
  
  N is for never would I trade you for a quiet, calm little boy. As much trouble as you cause, you are always my pride and joy!

The Joke Is On You

For those of you who have not had the pleasure of knowing my son, Trenton, I can tell you he is a clever boy. I consider my parenting strategies concerning him, a game of out foxing the fox. So this morning we had an argument because he wanted to take junk food for school snack. After several attempts at explaining why we don't take junk food to school, I gave up and resorted to the "Because I said so," line. After a few minutes of crying and "I'm calling the police on you," he also gave up. After taking him to school, I came home and started unloading children from the van. Low and behold, what should I find shoved into a seat crevice? An ice cream sandwich wrapper! I quickly think back to our goodbye kiss....no chocolate on his mouth. I searched the van...nothing but trash. Which leaves only one other possibility...his backpack. Well Mr. Trenton, congratulations...you out foxed the fox this time. But the joke is on you my son. It is 75 degrees outside today. Another lesson learned the hard way.

Food For Thought

You know it's time to invest in some magnetic cabinet locks when all 18 cabinets are empty, and all of your dishes, spices etc... are hidden in various secret spots around the house. Maybe I should just give up and serve PB and J on paper plates for the next 10 years.

In Response

After reading Cath's QOTD, I feel like I'm not alone in this battle to retain my sanity. This is my response to her QOTD: "What Have You Learned TODAY??"
1. A towel can indeed catch fire when a 7 year old puts it on top of a bathroom light fixture.
2. A bottle of baby lotion actually makes the carpet smell nice and baby fresh after it is all cleaned off. It almost covers up the stench of poop from last weeks poop smearing incident.
3. No matter how many times you clean up a spilled beverage at dinner, there will always be another two minutes later.
4. Chicken enchiladas don't taste too bad after sitting on my plate for an hour while I clean up spilled beverages.
5. All children love the same cup and covet it at dinner. In our house, this cup usually gets thrown in the trash after 5 or 6 fist fights over who gets it.
6. NEVER, NEVER laugh when your six year old tells someone to "zip their ass" out of anger. (I tried so hard not to)
7. NEVER NEVER tell your kids that ass is another word for donkey.
8. Do not have any two kids, a day apart (if you can help it) The one with the later birthday will always feel less important. (Happy Birthday Ella!!!)
9. Moms who are sick are truly S.O.L. (in Daniel's own words)

So now I pass this question on to you, what have you learned today? Feel free to click on Cath's link to read hers too. She's a mommy of four (one of them a newborn), and has some hilarious entries!! www.mamaduhm.blogspot.com

Why I Hate Tile

Just a quick note FYI...for those of you with large families, do not put 1600 square feet of tile in a house that has a kitchen/family room combo w/ vaulted ceilings. You will never be able to hear while talking on the phone, talking to another person in the same room, or talking to yourself. The constant echo is deafening and can grate the nerves of even the most serene human being. And I've been wondering why God never answers my prayers anymore. Sorry God, I can't hear you because of all this tile!!! Please send all prayer replies to my email address.

Shove It!!

I would just like to say to the glaring women at the grocery store, who obviously never had children...SHOVE IT!!!! I'm so tired of apologizing for tantrums, gas passing, arguments and every other unavoidable grocery shopping induced situation. I have kids. I have to shop. Kids do not like to shop, and make the whole trip miserable to punish me for forcing the trip on them. Do these disgusted women think that I enjoy carting seven children around the store? Do they think I enjoy repeating the word "No," every ten seconds, to avoid a five hundred dollar grocery bill? They have no idea that this horrendous trip is only the beginning of the torture inflicted on me every Sunday. They fail to realize that I still have to load the bags into the van, while 14 hands are grabbing at whatever food item they can grasp from their car seats. They have no idea what it feels like to sit in traffic while seven ear curdling screams reverberate off of the van walls, because I won't pass out Go-gurts. They can't seems to grasp the concept of unloading and putting away the groceries amidst the chaos that is pre-dinner pantry foraging. No, no no, the shopping is just the calm before the storm. If these women really want a reason to roll their eyes and "HUMPH" in disapproval, let them ride home with us. I'd love for them to know what joy it is to endure post shopping pain. It is similar to postpartum pain, except no Vicadin to make it easier. I will never again try to shush my children's protests to Shredded Wheat, or break up the fist fight over who gets to push the cart. Next time, I will simply aim the cart towards the woman with the rolling eyeballs, so when it goes flying down the aisle ...well you get the picture. To all childless women who shop at Stater Brothers....you have been warned!!

Crazy

I have officially been done procreating and delivering babies since July 7, 2007. I cried in the hospital before I left, knowing that the maternity ward stay would be my last. It had become my annual vacation destination for seven years in a row. The nurses knew me, the doctors loved me. It was a bittersweet goodbye. But then relief sank in once I was home with all 7 kids. Being a mom of 7 little ones is a crazy undertaking. Especially when your getting ready to move, and your husband has major back surgery. It has been a crazy 9 months since that hot July 7th. New house, new schools, homesickness...it has been overwhelming.
Then on top of all the madness, I get this strange feeling. An emptiness deep inside. A feeling of envy towards 2 of my sister in laws. I am not usually an envious person. Why do I feel this envy? They just delivered two healthy, beautiful babies. Two perfect, innocent, pure hearted little humans. I start to feel sad. I miss that milestone. It has been too long (9 whole months). I'm not used to having an empty uterus for this long. I yearn for the achy hips, heartburn, stretchmarks, nausea and hospital stay. I miss, the heavenly scent of newborn skin. I miss nursing in the late night hours, just the two of us sharing the bond that only a mother and baby can share. I miss the labor, the impatient days that precede it, the gut wrenching contractions, the euphoric feeling of seeing your baby for the first time. I know my body cannot handle another pregnancy. I know I have to move on and enjoy the children I have been blessed with. Those seven years were difficult, painful, tiring and I would do them all over again in a heartbeat.
I know...it's....crazy. I do not even tell anyone I feel this way because I'd get the same response every time, "Are you crazy?". Apparently so.