Warning: This Post May Cause Flatulence*

Princess Toot

So if you missed my comment on facebook yesterday, my morning conversation with Kendall went like this...


'Mommy, I am really gassy today.'

'Uh oh'

'Yeah, I can't stop farting, I mean tooting.' (they must not be allowed to say 'fart' at school)

'Do you want to stay home?'

'No Way! If it happens, I will just look around and pretend it wasn't me!'

I just want to ask if you too also wonder where you children learn social nuances like this? I also love the word nuance. I sat there like I was studying some thesis statement or something, when I was really wondering where my child learned that a.) farting was something to be ashamed of, (which I am thankful for no doubt) and b.) that not taking ownership of the fart in certain situations is kosher.


As in typical fashion, I didn't ponder very long, but this time because I had an explanation...her father. Seriously. How many times has this man farted to the point I think he left a hole where he was sitting and has blamed it on the children. And they shriek and holler in delight loving the possibility that their daddy is just that silly that he actually thinks he can convince them he didn't do it! That Daddy, he is hilarious! Not. I tell you this though, if a fart of his magnitude were to come out of their tiny bodies, they literally would explode before our eyes.


And please, don't act like your man does not pass gas. Seriously. And for that matter don't act like you don't either. It's humanly impossible, I don't want to hear it. If you don't like that I am blogging about farting, that is fine too, go pick up your Martha Stewart Autobiography and read away.


Funny Story though. We have these friends, and I am going to keep their names off of this for the record, but let me just tell you about them. They are married, like most of our friends are these days, and let me tell you that they say that they rarely, if ever, farted in front of each other. No lie. The husband cannot stomach it. He cannot stomach farting in front of his wife, and he would definitely lose it if she did. The ironic part is, is that if you knew them, you would in no way think this of them. Not that they look like all they do is sit around and pass gas all day and laugh about it, they just seem like the type that just wouldn't care, you got to fart, you got to fart, it's your home, I am your spouse. But he can't handle it. He doesn't even like her peeing with the bathroom door open. He can't take it if she has to pee and he is in the shower, it is in his presence, he can't function. This is just hilarious to me. Seriously, he would die married to me. Because listen, in the privacy of my own home, with no guests over, well besides like my mom and sisters, I will use the bathroom with the door open if I am in conversation or whatever. The only time I will close the door in the above circumstances is just for sanity reasons. Listen it takes me like 30 seconds to pee, 20 to wash up, so that is close to a minute of me time, I will take what I can get. I don't know, that's just how I grew up. 4 girls in a house, one bathroom, you have to do what you have to do.


So back to my story of our friends, so the wife, my close friend, really only goes along with this because this is her husband, honestly, I think she could care less. So one night they were in an argument in their bed, and he was really annoying her. She either told him to go sleep on the couch, or to leave her alone, or something like that, and he wouldn't. So she said, 'Listen, _____, either you do this or I am going to fart!' And he wouldn't stop, and so she just let it rip. Needless to say, he was so grossed out, he left the room. She won, by farting. That's wonderful. If it were all that simple.


But what I want to know is, and I have never gotten an answer is, what if you really have to pass gas and you are around each other? Do they leave the room? Excuse themselves in mid conversation or mid movie and press pause just to pass gas? Just in front of your spouse? I mean sometimes gas is painful and the only way to relieve it is to just fart. And I am not saying I walk around farting all the time, and encourage my kids to do the same. Really, there is a time and a place. Not sure when that might be, but there is. I teach them it isn't funny, and it is rude, ok? They mind their manners. But they also know that when you have to fart, you have to fart, not at the dinner table of course, and sometimes they slip out, and that we can giggle about that. No' I'm serious, appropriate passage of gas is a life lesson.


And to all you men out there who think that your wives don't talk about you to other wives, and share some pretty private things, I got news for you. You will now look at all of your wives friends and sisters, maybe even moms a little bit different now ,won't you? I mean we know what kind and color of underwear you are wearing. We know about the secret boxes. So start behaving.


Now back to Kendall. I pick her up from school and you know the first thing I am going to ask her. It isn't about the letter of the week or what Rowan brought in for Show & Tell it is:


'So how did the tooting problem go?'

'Alright'

'So it went away?'

'Umm, Nope.'

'Did you have to go poopy during school, did you wipe well, seriously, we practiced this.' (and I'm serious, we did)

'No Mommy, I didn't poop at school.' (and who would want to poop at school? Do you ever remember pooping at school?I think there was like a silent code against this amongst peers)

'So they just didn't smell?'

'Oh yeah, they did. I just pretended it wasn't me, and I looked around and stuff. One time Mary smelled it and she asked me, Kendall did you toot!?!?, and I said, No Mary, that was you!, and Mary was like, No way Kendall that was you, and we went back and forth!' (And she's laughing hysterically about this)

'Oh, well, sounds like you weren't found out, huh?'

'Nope, it was close, but they didn't know it was me.'

Those poor teachers.


Again, another moment where I was like, 'Who is this kid, and when did she grow up so fast?' It is really a conversation about farting, and it is kind of inappropriate, but she is having silly conversations with her peers, without me.


So we get home, and get inside, and I am asking them what they want for lunch. E says PB&J, and Kendall asks what there is. I mention the leftover chili, and she says, 'Oh no! No way, I am not having chili again!' I list some other options and she then asks, 'Mommy do I have school tomorrow, are we going anywhere?' I say, 'Nope.' And she says, 'Ok, then I will have the chili, just wanted to make sure we were the only ones around in case I get gassy again.'


* Title taken from the book, 'Walter the Farting Dog', the beginning page of the book says, 'Warning: This Book may cause Flatulence' We really like this book, especially since Stanley toots alot. It is also becoming a movie, so if you didn't like this post, you won't like the book or the movie, and that's just too bad, you really need to loosen up, try farting.

Seriously?

Ok. Who is the guilty party? Stand up and raise your hand...I'm waiting, wooden spoon in hand. I just got an email from Babble that someone nominated my blog as a favorite, 'Mom ' blog. Seriously? I am flattered, but seriously? I really just blog because it is cathartic. Really. That's the only reason I do it. Because if I get it out and share in my craziness, they one have evidence for when I go crazy from raising these children, and two, so I can actually remember some things, because I page back through my blog sometimes, and am like, wait? That happened?

So seriously?

They say to post a link on my blog so that my readers can click the little, 'like,' button next to my post. So far I have 2. That's funny. Most people have like 100 or so. But 2 is good, I guess, 2 people like me. My Mom and Dad.

I guess you could nominate yourself, but I didn't. I wasn't really going after that and all. But it's nice. But if you have a blog and think it is worth voting for, nominate yourself, I will vote for you, it's the least I can do. Just let me know. I am all about blogging. It's therapeutic. I don't even know what you are voting for really, because it looks like the Top 50 for 2010 were already named. Maybe it is like a vote after the fact, I don't know.

Some of my favorite blogs are on this list. So take some time and read them. They are that good.

In the meantime, if you want to 'like' me by all means. Maybe you don't at all and you are like...you fool, like I would actually support you. And that is fine too, you know whatever.

So here is the link. I didn't even know of this site, whoops. And then as I caught up on other blogs that I read, supposedly I am supposed to. See, I am totally green when it comes to blogging, I just act like I know what I am doing. I think that you click on that little square to the right that says nominate a blogger, and then click the Vote Now, and then scroll until you find me, I am like at the end of the list. Trust Me. I think like Page 2, "Telling One Story for every,'Polkadot,' on my Face.' There is definitely an easier way to do this, but you know me, the most complicated way possible.

http://www.babble.com/babble-50/mommy-bloggers/


Uh, so thanks. Thank God I will never be nominated for an Oscar or something, because my speech would be terrible, and I would be publicly humiliated all over the tabloids.

Tale of 6 month talents

I just want you to look at this photo, and I don't care if you disagree with me, just let me go on and on about how cute he is. Really? Look how he just sits there. Too much.

And on a Sunday when the Eagles play. Here's hoping for the Eagles and Michael Vick. I forgave him, and I love animals, Jake did too, and Michael said that he asked Jesus to forgive him too. So maybe if we all try and forgive him he might feel this surge of love and lead the Eagles to victory. It would really raise the spirits of my sickly husband whose grumpiness is something I cannot tolerate. But more on man sickness this week.

And then there is this little close up....oh be still my heart.

Oh and by the way, he has this awesome new talent. If you are totally disinterested in the Eagles and really feel like holding a grudge, and say, forgive him? Yeah right. That's fine with me too. This will just help you out. He is a little shaky, but in the next week he will surely master it.

Why must children grow? Well, so they sleep through the night for one, and that I am ok with. But this whole growing up bit. I want to cuddle them forever, and I guess I can. However, their friends might think it a little weird when I show up at their college dorm just to cuddle with my son or daughter all day on a Sunday and read books to them, and give them fruit snacks, and ask them to promise me they will never grow up. I've said it before, I am that Mom.
Ok, so here we go...

Wait for it, Wait for it...

Almost ready...

Here he goes....Daddy just has to move his hand for you to believe it.

Why does the kid in back of him grow so fast? Seriously, belly hanging out? That shirt fit a week ago. But back on point...

Ta Da!

He's a little fussy at this point with the posing for pictures gig we've got going on. Sorry. Fussy Models.

A tooth and sitting all in one week. I am going to go upstairs and cry under my covers. Yeah right, like they would let me go and lie in my bed all alone. Seriously.

Ok...like I said he hasn't mastered it yet...whoops...

and look at E looking like, 'uh I hope they don't think I had anything to do with this.' Kendall caught him just in time, by the way, I didn't just let him smack his head on the floor while I snapped away.

*All picture poses were thought of by our creative director, Kendall Anne.*

Halloweenie

Is there a particular reason that it seems mandatory to run from house to house trick or treating? Seriously, their capes and wings were about to let them fly! My poor friend Stephanie almost went into labor from the clip we were moving at. I told her to sit down on the porch of some random people who had a candy bowl sitting out, and hand it out for them. We were practically sprinting...at least they held hands when crossing the street. See my parenting is working...when you start to doubt it...here's proof!

I entitle this, 'Halloweenie,' because one year this is what Kendall called Halloween. I don't know. Not sure how the mind of a 2 year old would put this together, but when you have a brother with a weenie, and you say something that sounds like that at the end, well then you say, 'Halloweenie.'

Now Halloween is a very easy day to dread. You have to get costumes, you have to pay too much for candy, and then you have a ton of candy in your house screaming at the top of its lungs, 'EAT ME!!,' to the point you can't hardly function walking pass the bucket of candy. And pumpkins, they are really messy to carve, and if you make one wrong cut, just one, your whole pumpkin is ruined and it looks absolutely ridiculous. My sister, Meghan, can attest to this. She has some talents, but carving pumpkins is not one of them. I love to laugh at her pumpkins every year and then feel bad about it later. I mean seriously. If you saw the way my dad, sister Michelle, and I carve our pumpkins you would feel sympathy for her also. We use power tools. Enough said. Meghan cannot use power tools, she might lose a few finger, and possibly even a toe.

You then have to hope for the best weather. Because if it rains, it is a terrible night. If it is too cold, then you either have a fat princess from all the layers underneath to stay warm, or you put a coat on top of their costumes. That's right. The $30 you just spent on a costume is ridiculous, because you just covered it up with a coat. It's never once been too hot here for Halloween, but I imagine that if you lived in a warmer climate, dressing up in costume would not be fun, most especially with a face mask, that would just be terrible. The sweat, just gross.

But me, oh I love Halloween. I think it is so much fun. There was a period of time before I had kids where I was in this middle zone that I didn't really like it as much as I used to or as much as I do now. It's the time where you get invited to costume parties, and you just don't even feel like thinking of a costume for you and your significant other to wear, you would rather just wear jeans. I still don't like dressing up in costume, but I like to help others think of costume ideas, and that is another great part about having kids. I went to work the day after Halloween and all my residents asked me what I had dressed up as, I told them I was still in costume as a scary witch. See for when you have kids there is no need to dress up, they just being, make you a scary ugly witch. No, no, I am not saying that seriously. But when you have kids, you don't have to dress up anymore, you have good reason not to, you are putting all of your creative energy into their costumes, you have an awesome excuse. Unless of course you are from that special bunch of mom's who like to dress up to go trick or treating with your kids, or to hand out candy. Oh have at it, but you won't be seeing me join you. Maybe it's laziness, I don't know.

I am a bit of a costume snob. And let me preface this by saying to all of you who purchase a costume from a store for your children because that is what they want to be, that is ok with me, I don't even bat an eye. But for me, I think it is a challenge to think of a costume or theme and to go with it, and search store to store for the items that are going to put these costumes together. And my costumes aren't even the best costumes walking from house to house, far from it. I just like to torture myself into finding the best and most affordable way to get a costume together. I know I am a little anally retentive. But to see the flimsy fabric they provide you with that makes up this costume. It's highway robbery!

It is just plain fabulous that for another year I have somehow convinced my children to stay in theme. Now this is easier if you have all boys, or all girls. Because as you know, I have the boys, and then there is Kendall. Kendall who is a special little thing, in that if I tell her to do something one way, she is for sure going to do it, Kendall's way. So I thought, well I can have E be what he wants to be and have Jake go with that theme, and Kendall, well she can be Hannah Montana or whatever crazy thing she wants to be, if it required make up, she was wearing it.

E pronounced that he would like to be Spiderman, then the next day it was Batman, then the next it was Spiderman again. This went on throughout the month of October. So I could not make a decision on Jake because I was waiting for him to decide if he was going to be a Marvel Super Hero, or Batman. So I just let him do this back and forth game knowing that he was going to be some kind of superhero, I just decided Jake was going to be Superman, because Superman does not wear a mask, most children do not like masks, 6 month old children resent them. So the more I talked out loud about the Superhero thing, the more Kendall's ears perked up. My plan going in perfect precision. She finally asked one day if there were girl superheroes. We looked some up online. She asked if they wore make up, of course they wear make up! Andy likes to say that I forced her into being Cat Woman, how dare he. I mean I might have just mentioned that I would paint her face like a cat, paint her nails black, and let her wear black lipstick, but forced? That's a little harsh.

She looks as though she is saying, 'MEOW.' So cute, right? But what she is really doing is yelling for all of us to hurry up so she can go get candy!

So one day the prophetic announcement was made, 'I will be Batman.' I thought for a minute about changing Jake to Robin to stick with the whole Batman theme since Kendall was to be Cat Woman, but the costumes were over priced online, I couldn't find green sweatpants, and Robin wears an eye mask. It was doomed from the start.

I love how when you ask kids to look at you when they have masks on, they have to look up, this has always made me laugh. It's the simple things.

So it was off to put some super hero costumes together. Some pleather pants and a black top for cat woman, with a tail and some ears. Some sweats for the bottom of the boys, cause it was gonna be chilly. I found some superhero shirts at target that they can wear again and are super excited about. Well Ethan is, Jacob would smile at anything. I then gathered supplies to make the boys capes.

Superman, although, with the hat on, he looks like 'Kid,' from Kid n' Play.

'Uh, excuse me, I want a cape too.'

My response, 'Uh, Cat Woman doesn't wear a cape.'

Her Response, 'Uh, this Cat Woman does, she also wears high heels.'

So three capes my sister Michelle and I made. Well I created the pattern, cut, pinned, etc, she sewed it together on the machine because me and the sewing machine don't get along so well. It has been called some names by me that would be instantly bleeped out on standard television shows. It's just not pretty at all. The reason for the capes is that I hated the capes that came with the costumes for superheroes. And even though I was not buying the costume set, I was still determined to do better, because I really like to complicate things. So now they have these capes to pretend they are superheroes in outside of Halloween. And it is really grand to have them flying around the house at top speed ricocheting off of tables and couches, and leaping off of the stairs to rescue the poor baby (Jake) from the evil baby snatcher, (me). Jake loves it and really plays the part of the rescued quite well by squealing in delight when they whisk him in his high chair away. Got to love a high chair with wheels.

Because even on Halloween, and even when the Eagles stink, it is mandatory for my husband to wear a jersey, because they are playing.

On Halloween we had a little get together on the court, where all of us neighbors congregated in front of our house with some camp chairs and a fire pit, and ate tons of fallish foods, handed out candy, and trick or treated. I made this decision since every other year we tend to all huddle together anyway, might as well make it a planned event so that the food is better. And that it was. There was Monkey Bread.

The trick or treaters who managed to stick together through the extravaganza. We spent much of the adventure saying, 'Hey wait for Leah'....'Hey, we went to that house already'...'Slow down'...'You take one piece, not a handful'...and my favorite...'What do you say!?!?!!'

This year Ethan got it. He ran with the pack, banged on doors, yelled Trick or Treat from the top of his lungs, and Happy Halloween, as his bag was filled with candy. Kendall, the old pro, led the pack with her dear friend Sarah who is allergic to half the stuff in her bag anyway, but still loved the entire idea of the night.

My superheroes were worn out. Just as planned. Ethan started accusing Kendall of stealing candy from him, and it was promptly to bed. Because although 400 pieces of candy is just not enough, according to him; according to me, he was speaking incoherently and needed to be sedated from his sugar high.

E, just before his meltdown, as you can see through evidence Kendall and her candy are nowhere near him!

He is so cute...look at those cheeks, how in the world did I get along in my life up to this point without him?
(Jacob, not my dad, but he's pretty cool too, I guess.)

This might have been the end of my trio with the themed costumes, some may say. I'll let you believe that until I cast my spell over them again next year.

And if you aren't quite over Halloween yet, please indulge in the Modern Family's Halloween Episode. Now I have never seen a full episode of the show, somehow know a bit about it thanks to Oprah, but you don't need to to watch it. Go to this site. http://abc.go.com/shows/modern-family/video , and click on the episode entitled, 'Halloween.' I promise you, you will laugh. Get yourself a coffee and watch it at nap time, lunch time, break time, anytime. I laughed so hard it hurt.

Brief Background: The guy who used to play Ed Bundy on Married with Children, is the patriarch of the family. Remarried to the hottie Latina, who is so funny, she has a kid, they live with him. His two kids; his daughter, actress Julie Bowen, is married with 3 kids, is another small entity of the Modern Family, and then there is his son, who is gay, and with a lifetime partner, and they adopted a little girl from somewhere in Asia, who makes up the other small entity.

Seriously. Watch It.

'It’s so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life' ~ Rita Rudner.

Oh la la you say...who got that dazzler?

I mean that is the prettiest engagement ring you have seen a bit, right? You will for sure show your significant other, 'honey, look at this ring, isn't it beautiful?' I mean who said it has to be an engagement ring? In this case it is, but no one said you can't get a diamond ring because you are beautiful, you clean the bathrooms in your house, and it is a Wednesday. I'm just saying. But back on point.

Simple Story:



Boy:

+


Girl:


+


+



3 or so some years

___________________________________________________

And there you have it. My little sister, the same one who used to smell my sneakers after field hockey practice because I told her it would make her live longer, is getting married.

They say they aren't going to talk 'wedding plans' until after the holidays...but notice how 'they' is a really great word in this situation, because it isn't the word, 'we,' and so that leaves me out of the equation. That is fabulous...and get used to it Eddie, for I am going to be your big sister too.
So get ready to be pushed down the stairs by me, wrapped up in a comforter. It was fun, Meghan will tell you all about it.

I also get to personally benefit from this engagement, which is really exciting. I know, you are sitting right at the end of your seat. I get to get my butt really in the groove and get this baby blubber off of me, that's right I said blubber. Pictures last a lifetime, and I am not going to be looking at them and say, 'ugh look at that chin.' , well actually 'chins.' ( I have three beautiful children, I have 3 beautiful children), ( I chant that regularly). So thanks guys for that incentive, me as well as my jeans appreciate it. So as 'we' plan for this wedding, I will be running my ass off. That's right, I said ass.

Goal: Broad St. Run, May 2011. I may die when I cross the finish line, but I will cross it, dag nab it. That's right, I said dag nab it.

Oh, and I also will be gaining a brother in law, that is also a benefit. Whoops, sorry about that Eddie.

So Congratulations! We are super excited for you! See I said 'we', instead of 'they', but I am sure they are also really excited as well.

The Happy Couple...


I giggle a little, because marriage is that much fun.

Greek Life

In college I was not in a sorority. Not because I all out revolted against them, but because my university did not have them. Well there was the academic fraternities, but they don't count in the slightest. I am talking about all girls, all together, typically for social interaction, sometimes even living together. You know, Elle Woods, in Legally Blonde? Typically this is the image of a college sorority, and I really don't think it is all that bad. Then lightening struck me. But no, I really don't. Had a been at a college that had sororities, you probably would have seen me during rush week, and I am pretty certain that everyone who knew me in college would whole heartedly agree.


I was told by someone during my exit interview from college that I was, 'essentially the queen of the mall, that I led the way through this social circle that dictated appearance, gatherings, and nuances. That I lived in this building and walked around hand in hand with my star soccer player boyfriend, where others wanted to come in but could only window shop.' Hello Elle Woods. Snob? Imagine my rage at the time. How dare someone say that to me, right? What would you have done? But essentially that person was telling me I had created some sort of sorority, i.e. 'mall,' and in all honesty, looking back on it, I don't really think that it was that wrong of me to do, I was 21 years old. Sure, this person totally misunderstood my heart, but I was loud, I was rowdy, and I had fun, and I am sure that is the way I came across until you got to know me, because malls have automatic doors you know, you can come and go as you please, I never felt bad or apologized for being me. I said my, 'hi, how are you's,' to every single solitary person I passed in a hall, but more on the fun nuances of christian schools at another time.


There are tons of sororities throughout life if you think about it. Right now, I am a lifelong member in Delta Mama Kappa Nu. The sorority of motherhood. Why don't you come to our mall, window shopping is definitely recommended. Membership is quite easy, by accepting a bid ,all you have to do is become completely responsible for a tiny person's life. That's it. Do you sometimes look at your kids and are taken a little off guard? I mean really look at them, typically when they all are having a meltdown at the same time, and just you just sit there staring, mind wandering, thinking, 'who decided this was ok for me to partake in?' In essence, who let me join this sorority? Rush week was fun and all, with my significant, but wowee, the hazing never stops once you are a Mama Nu.


Girls in a sorority usually have things in common, something that unifies them, a reason they chose that particular sorority over another. Other normal standards are the following: Most sororities have a color or two that represents them, and some greek letters. They volunteer and fund raise, they have social events. They have rituals and symbols and structure and organization. They have membership protocol. They have houses that are home base. They are also surrounded by criticism.


So it's quite simple. As you have seen above, being a mom puts you right into a sorority whether you want to be or not. Let me break it down real simple.


*Our greek letters are pretty self-explanatory, although they aren't greek, but they should be; MOM


* Our colors do not require us to go out to the store and buy something new, how cost efficient, right? It's homemade. It's our children's bodily fluid. That yummy greenish brownish shade that comes only from poop, snot, vomit, spit up, dried urine, slobber.


*Volunteer, Fundraising, Planning and Attending Social Events.
Is this not a given? Seriously. As a mom, I tell you, I end up volunteering for more then I should be with three kids, but you just do it because you do it. Not even because it is the thing to do per se, you do it because the preschool kids need one large can of pumpkin to make their pumpkin bread. You can't make pumpkin bread without the pumpkin!

And sometimes don't you just wish the fundraising was for you ,and for a sponsored day at the spa? Right. We fund raise for kids teams, their class, their friends mothers brothers sister who needs new teeth. We do it with such fervor that is almost is overwhelming. I mean once you start getting a positive response, you just go with it, like its a game or a challenge. I will sell the most wrapping paper!

And social events. I am not complaining or saying that all social events are just terrible. But the number of parties that your children will attend in a year is just obscene when you think about it. And you go and they go because they are your children's friends, and sometimes even your friends, and they came to your kids party. It's cyclical like that. In the previous case, you attend to provide moral support for your friend, to help set up and clean up, to play bouncer, because let's face it, 20 four year olds wreaking havoc can make your hair stand on end if you had to forgo it alone. But the kids love it all, and that, in the end is why we do it.

My favorite social events in this sorority are get togethers that we say are play dates for the kids, but they are really for us. And when you have kids the same age it is great. You open the playroom door, proclaim, 'have at it, and don't tattle tale unless someone is being physically harmed by someone else to the point that there might be blood on the carpet or a broken bone.'

And then we get to to sit and drink our coffee and eat something that consists of more than a handful of dry cereal for breakfast. It's lovely.

*Rituals. Really every member of the Mama Nu have their own entity in their own clan. But when you really compare, almost every Mom is doing the same thing as you are in those high traffic times, as I like to refer to them as. We get up in the morning, there is diaper change, peeing, telling them to get their pajamas off 68 times, peeking at where the shirt tag is to make sure the shirt is on the right way before they stick their arms in because god forbid they get in on backwards and have to take it off and put it on again, this is just not feasible. There is the search for a hair brush, a little girl whining about knots, toothpaste on shirts to have to go and find another one or pretend you just don't see it. There is another diaper change thanks to the morning poop, daily, talk about rituals. There is breakfast, and milk and cereal rings on left on the table. All of this and more are typically go on at other high traffic times of the day that being dinner time, and bed time. We are all performing our rituals at the same time, becoming very ritualistic. You follow?

* Symbols. The ultimate symbol of Mama Nu is of course the mini van. You see a mini van nine times out of 10, there is a Mama Nu driving it. I cannot clearly fathom why on earth anyone other than a Mama Nu might need to be cruising around in one, well I am sure there are exceptions, but you know. Another is a home that is cluttered with laundry, small toys, juice boxes, and fruit snack wrappers.

* Structure and Organization. These are the two words we are constantly chasing after as Mama Nu's. Who doesn't want a set bed time, who doesn't want their closets cleaned? Who doesn't want a kid who always remembers to say please and thank you, and puts the toilet seat down gently and not slamming it down with all his might? There are moments of shining glory where you get to the bottom of that dirty laundry pile, but quickly someone spills a whole glass of chocolate milk down the front of them. There are those moments when you are yelling, 'Where are you, we have to go!' And they answer, 'Waiting for you!' And there they are by the front door, smiling, with their coats on, and shoes on the right feet. It is amazing what they can achieve when a Mama Nu keeps her eyes set on the prize, and that being raising functional human beings.

* And as a Mama Nu, we don't have a set house to gather, every one's house is the sorority house. And they all look the similar. Sticky floors, finger prints on windows, cats walking across the kitchen table, that might just be my home, whoops, a toilet unflushed, and a pile of little kid clothes set in such a way that it looks as though they just stepped right out, that's weird right? Shoes, socks, pants, underwear, one on top of the other, like the child evaporated. But they all look busy, right? That is a Mama Nu house. There is always something to watch to entertain you, or do to entertain you. Most importantly in a Mama Nu house you feel comfortable, not like a toddler in a china store.

*And Mama Nu's are typically always surrounded by some one's criticism. How we discipline, when we discipline, when we don't. What school our kids go to and where they don't go. What we feed our children and what we don't. And how many glasses of wine we drink at the end of a hard day. It could be rough if you let it.

And that is where another experienced Mama Nu steps in and says, 'there is no right or wrong way, what works for you is what works for your family, if your heart is in the right place, it will all come together.' There is no set feeding time, napping time, bed time, play time, silly time, learning time, and that is what is awesome about being in this sorority. You can stay in your comfy clothes all day long, and it's ok, this sorority is also a tough one, filled with responsibilities, if you didn't get your mascara on today, we forgive you. But isn't it fun to have the camaraderie?

Most recently I have seen a bunch of brand new Mama Nu's join the sorority and have loved to watch other members huddle around them and make sure their hazing is a little bit easier then their own. That's sisterhood.

And to my darling husband...if you are wondering why the socks aren't organized, it's not because I don't love you, it's because I am part of a sorority with a lot of expectations, wiggle your toes a little and be thankful that even if it took me 30 minutes to find a matching pair, at least I did it, and found outfits for all my kids for the day, at the same time. Yeah Mama Nu!

Because I drank too much coffee today.

So wow. It's been awhile since I blogged. I am going to fully admit that three kids will do that to a girl, and I am losing my mojo when it comes to super multitasking anything other then wiping a runny nose and remembering not to use it right after on the baby's butt, or vice versa. Right now the babe is asleep. So I have a moment to ramble. And it is just that a moment, because this kids snoozes are completely unpredictable. That's fun,right?I am also waiting presently for the stain on the carpet that I sprayed cleaner into to be evaporated. Seems kind of crazy to me. But the stain is from Stanley, who must have gotten into something that he wasn't supposed to, and decided it might be nice to barf on my floor. How about the hardwood pal, the bathroom tile? Nope, as is such with my chaotic life, right on track, he barfed on the carpet, and that is no surprise to me. So I suppose we will be investing in some carpet cleaner today. That's fun.

To sum it up real quick, you haven't really been missing much. My house is pretty messy these days. I again, fully admit, I cannot keep up, so if anyone wants to invest in a cleaning lady and a home organizer for me for my upcoming birthday, that would be great,I mean, I wouldn't even try to stop you. I just cannot promise you that it will look the same 6 months later. I'm busy, man. And I really want my carpets cleaned. I am staring at them right now, the juice box stains...ugh. Maybe the next house I live in will have all hardwood floors. Then you could really see the animal hair, I don't know.

I was entranced with those miners in Chile. I seriously cried when the first one was coming up and they did that shot of his kid? I waited up to see that, paralyzed with fear that something bad was going to happen on live television and they would be stuck down there forever, with this video camera. That would have been terrible, so I peered at the television gripping my blanket praying for everything to go right, and it did, and they all came out, alive and well. Could you just imagine? I put myself right down in that hole with them and was panicking. I can't even stay in my house for one full day let alone three months underground with a bunch of smelly men. I continued to watch on mute each time Jacob woke up throughout the night counting down the numbers, engrossed in each of their stories. I could spew out at any given moment to anyone the reason for the order, how many capsules were made; 3 by the way, how big they were; a man's shoulder width wide, and how they survived down there, what they ate, etc. And I was filled with so much respect for the rescue men who volunteered to go down there to be in charge in this hole, and be the last one's up. Could you imagine if this was your husband? I would have committed him the psych ward at the mere suggestion, so there wouldn't have been even a chance of him going down there anyway.

My children are obsessed with these small 'guys,' as Ethan calls them. They are those action sized figurines, and you can get them anywhere, the Disney Princesses at the Disney Store, the Toy Story little plastic figurines, sometimes little people are included, and most definitely the characters you would get in a Happy Meal. Anything really, as long as they are typical not taller then let's say 3 inches. They play with them for hours. No joke. You would think that I could get rid of all of their other toys and let them have only these, but the clever little nuggets they are, they incorporate them into everything. The kitchen set? They refer to it as Giant Kitchen Land, and the people live in the microwave, oven, the sink is the pool. Ethan, however, in a thing that boys do twist, obsesses with lining them up. Wants them to have order. And this organization can happen anywhere, kitchen table, edge of bathtub, arm rest in the van, window sill,it happens everywhere. And the voices he makes them all talk in? I sit on the steps and listen to them play. I can't let them see me because then it would stop because of embarrassment, but none the less, it is very entertaining to me. I asked them yesterday when they were in the basement playing, 'guys,' if they wanted to come up and play with me, and they responded, 'nah, maybe later!' What!?!? Ethan now wants Santa to bring him, 'superhero guys,' since we are beginning to enter into this fascination with superheroes. And the best part about these guys is stepping on them. Nothing like muffling obscenities under your breathe as you attempt to get Buzz Lightyear's wing out from under your big toe nail.


I don't know, should I be concerned? Have I passed on my obsessive gene? The one where I take all my pretty things for a given season and arrange them just so? Speaking of. I have this little half wall that divides my main floor into two, and I want to clutter it with some fancy phrases or something of the sort....like this one...I love it.

From Etsy of course, it's a good thing I am on the tightest of budgets because I could go crazy on that site. Oh, I think that print would look just perfect in my house.

And then there is the chunkiest nugget of the three, our little plump raisinet. I could call him names like this all day, because all he does is smile at me. I race around at close to 100 miles an hour each day to make members of this troop content, and I turn and look at him and he looks at me with this huge grin, and the grin says, 'you are the most amazing person in the whole world!' Sure he is probably just thinking, 'hey look, there goes that crazed woman again, let's see how many times she has to tell Kendall to find her shoes today, I got my bet in at 52.' But regardless, I pretend he says the former, and scoop him up and thank him with kisses. Because babies can't talk, and some days, that is just awesome.


So there you have it, nothing much going on. We now go to like 48 birthday parties for children a week. School is cool like that, and so therefore I have even less time, but wait until you see what I came up with for an idea for Kendall's birthday party! See this is my problem, random thoughts at inappropriate times, I should be doing laundry, not dreaming of a birthday party in February!

Have a great fall weekend. I will surely blog tomorrow. I stored up a lot to say. Imagine what all the wives of those miners had to say to their husbands. That is like 3 whole months to fill someone in on, I would be talking for 8 days straight...'And then on Monday, the 18th of August, the baby took a 4 hour nap, and I wondered, should I wake him...'because I am that girl.

To My California Girls...

To Ellie, my snugglishcious Victoria, Noell, & Joscelin:

FYI: I love this picture of the four of you...so loving...I think I might ask the Mrs. to frame it and put it near my corner of the couch!

Followed by a picture of me. LOOK! Remember me, girls?

Hello Ladies! Things are going well here. They still bathe me when I smell and I get to run around with the kids all day long. The boy here, he likes to wrestle and so that is something I enjoy doing now. Although he likes to sneak attack me when I am sleeping, not so enjoyable. They give me a new bone when I lose mine or devour mine. The Mrs. says that my behavior is improving. I don't run out the door to escape down the block to see my friends anymore. I simply just ask, and she takes me. Imagine that. She told me there was no need to run like that, but goodness do you know how good it feels to run like that sometimes? Too many pats on the bottom with her flip flop made me stop. She tells me it is too much for her to go running all over the neighborhood with the newborn in her arms and the little ones racing all over. Hey, all I want to do is socialize. Maybe we can reach some agreement. Playdates? Everyone else in this house gets one.

I have some good friends. Right next door is my girlfriend, Maddie, she is this little fluffy thing...so cute. She comes after me when I try to run away. I can't resist her beauty so I come right back. She has this little brother Chase, he is a funny little dog, but loves to run in circles like me. There is this giant Golden Doodle, Ellie, HaHa, isn't that funny Ellie? Anyway. She is a crazy beast who also likes to run out the front door without permission, and she always comes here to my stoop! Bunkley lives across the street with Bella. Bunk is a big guy who typically lazes around, no matter how hard I try and get him up to play, and Bella is a little Yorkie. Then there is LugNut. The biggest beast of all. He is an American Bulldog with the head the size of a soccer ball. They all laugh at us when we play together, but he is the greatest.

Lily, the cat, continues to pretend not to like me. However, she lets me get close enough to her to get a quick sniff. And sometimes she lets me sleep on the opposite end of the same couch as her.

They let me drive with them in the van alot. I love to stick my head out the window. We go to pick up the girl at school, or to the farm, and to visit relatives. I have now taken to running around with the donkeys when we visit the farm. They hate me nipping at their legs, but it's all in good fun.

There is the new baby. Often times I try to snuggle up to the thing, or sit on his legs when he is lying on the floor. Someone has to watch him. The Mrs. says something about it being her third child, she is less stressed. Uh, hello!?!?! He's an infant. Oh she is just crazy sometimes.

I still snore in their bed. She tries to get me to stay in the boys room, but he moves around too much. Something about my snoring being too loud, I don't know.

So I hear you are really moving. WOW! Wasn't that why I moved to this nut house in the first place? But it's been so long, I am sure you can't believe you are actually going! She had to show me the picture of the house for me to admit it was true. I love it.

I hear California is really nice. I hear the weather is just lovely. I hear there are some dog parks there. Actual places where dogs can run free with other dogs. I hear there are palm trees. Do you know how awesome it would be to pee on a palm tree? I hear they put dogs in real clothes there. Please don't do that to Charles, he would be humiliated.

Maybe you can come and see me or I can come and see you before the big move. But I am sure you are super duper busy, so if not, Have a Super Fun Time! I am sure you will meet lots and lots of friends, no worries. You have each other anyways, who else are you able to fight with and sit at the dinner table with every night, and be loved unconditionally? That's a sisterly bond you've got, love it up. What you are doing is super courageous! And don't you worry about me, I am spoiled silly here.

Have your Mama send the Mrs. your new address, she has some pictures of me to give to you. Four shots, one for each of you, so you never ever forget Stan the Man.

When you come back here, to visit, make sure you come and see me.

And just so you know, anytime you want me to come for a visit...



My bag is packed! I can get up and grab a flight at a moments notice!

Love you...and sending you lots of slobbery licks,

Stanley

P.S. Send Charles my love.

**** As a side note, a little about this deliciously cute family, well besides Trip, because referring to him as deliciously cute is just plain weird. Because for those of you who don't know the back story, you might be like who are these girls and why is Stanley writing to them?

These are our friends, the Forgengs. Jess and Trip are the parents, of those four little girls, who we know from college. They, obviously, are moving to California, Culver City to be exact. We inherited Stanley from them because there was no way they could take 4 girls and two dogs across the country to start pretty much anew. We volunteered to take the guy off their hands last year, since we were in the market for a dog, and not just any darn dog. However, these girls are extremely fond of Stanley, I mean how can you resist him, so keeping in contact is a must, and I will use the blog to do so every now and then for them.

They are moving to the LA area to build churches in a surprisingly unfed culture. I mean you see LA and you imagine it to be very worldly, but to actually here about the teeny tiny number of christian churches is disheartening and disappointing. As of last I understood, they are going to be part of this church, http://www.paradox.la/, go ahead and visit it.

Having Stanley in our home wonderfully leaves us easily connected to them, and is a daily reminder to pray for them! Knowing, that this move, although exciting, is not going to be easy.

Remember them, if you can, in your prayers. What an awesome thing they are doing!

Sir Chunky

So on the first day of preschool, since we were not busy enough that day already, we had a check up for Jacob. This was the old 4 monther.

And as you get to the third one, it becomes routine, you know what shots they are going to get, you know the milestones they are supposed to be reaching, you know the questions the doctor is going to ask, and you know what homework they are going to send you home with. The poor third child.

He was 17.5 pounds, a certified heifer.

His length, I can't quite remember, I just heard the doctor saying, 'yeah, he is right over the 100th percentile in that one.' Again, sympathizing with Shaq's mother.

And the head circumference? That was in the 40th percentile. That one made me perk up and turn the ears at full attention. Now what is that all about? Both of my other children have heads the size of large pumpkins, much like their mother, and always were into the 80, 90th percentile on head size. They teetered right on that line of whether or not to get it scanned, and I am all, 'have you looked at my head, do you see the size of this sucker? It doesn't fit in most hats.' It's a real shame I tell you. E never fit into any hats for his age group, and in fact is presently fitting into a bike helmet that is made for 8 year old boys. I marched right on home and put a 3-6 month old sized hat on his head and it slipped a little down to his eyebrows. Imagine my elation! We have a normal noggin!!! I lifted him up and twirled him in the air like he had just pooped gold into his diaper. It's so wonderful, you have no idea unless you have a large head.

They then send you home at the 4 month visit with permission to introduce solids, if you think your little baby is ready. This kid would sit down and eat a steak dinner if you offered it to him. They say do just rice for 4 days, then introduce a fruit, yada, yada, yada. We had the applesauce mixed in there at the first sit down and we haven't looked back. He loves food. He smiles the entire time I am feeding him like it is the best invention in the world. Food. Imagine that. He is eating the veggies and the fruit like it is going out of style. He houses. I have never seen anything like it. I am going to have to put a padlock on the pantry. If I had a pantry. Someday I might, and when this offensive lineman walks in the house, we secure that sucker up.

The first supper.

So this child was born to eat. As if him taking to the boob in his first 5 minutes of life were not indication enough, this intense gluttony over rice and summer squash and peaches pretty much lays it all out there.

But oh I love this little man. I chomp on his cheeks any spare moment I get. I tell you that all the time, but they are so cute and saggy, oh I have to go and kiss them right now.

B is for Busy

The Student

You know someone could have warned me. Someone could have said, 'yeah you think you're busy now, wait until one of them starts school.' Because I tell you, week one down of just preschool and we ran like ravaged beasts.If Kendall heard me call it 'just' preschool she would have a cow right in front of me, but I say it because we haven't even entered into the full realm of my children's education and I am spinning.

Ethan and the student. Apparently he does not do mornings either.

My morning begins with the slamming down of the toilet seat. My darling boy taking his first leak of the day is my shot gun sound to start the race, and it is non stop from this point on. I am not a morning person, which you may have gathered. And so as a result, I enjoy a leisurely prelude into the day. A nice snuggle on the bed watching the morning news and toons, while sipping on coffee. I know, right? It sounds just splendid. I have now embarked on a journey that will take 20 plus years until it is complete. Of course you get the summers off, but something tells me that once you are on a schedule, you are on a schedule. And it is go time, giddy up, and buckle up Mama.

I race up and down and everywhere to get them ready. Because monkey see, monkey do. I cannot for the life of me explain to Ethan that we are simply dropping the student at school and coming right back home. He can stay in his jammies, he can wait to eat a nice breakfast until we get back. We will be returning within 15 minutes. Nope, no way, not gonna fly for E. So as I toss an outfit to the student arguing with her that she can choose to wear whatever she wants to wear on the other 4 days of the week, I choose what she wears to school, I am changing a baby, and digging for the 'right,' undies that Ethan wants to wear on that particular day. This kid has an agenda, and if he plans to wear Buzz Light Year on his butt that day, well than that is how it is going to be. I mean there are battles that I choose to take on, but when you are trying to get 3 ready in a set amount of time, he gets to leave his streaks on Buzz.

I then get to try and find the student's brush which is left somewhere with some pile of Barbies, while holding a bottle to the mouth and dumping cereal in a bowl as I fly past. I then beg of the student to stay clean as she shovels in the cereal dripping milk all along the way. We then get the backpack, hope that the lip gloss is in its rightful spot, because god forbid we go to school without the right accessories to reapply with. And the onslaught of just what shoes to wear begins. The ones that were fine yesterday pinch her pinky toe, and the ones that match her outfit make her feet slippery with sweat, and you just can't run properly and fast with sweaty feet. The ones that she wore all summer just don't feel right, and the ones she wants to wear resemble banana peels with high heels attached, and that is just not how we roll, much thanks to Molly and Brynn.

And out the door. Putting baby in car seat while attempting to scold Stanley who is desperately trying to escape to go with us. And he has. And by the grace of God he runs into the van and not up the street to visit his friends and pee on their bushes. Then the argument of who is sitting where. Really? But you know you remember doing this. I used to always want the middle seat in the backseat and would inflict bodily harm if someone threatened to whine to our mom about how they never got to sit there.

And the marathon is still going. Because upon our arrival Ethan is grabbing at anything his grubby little hands can get a hold of on the way out of the van and asking, 'Mommy, I bring this with me?' I swear he thinks that the van is gonna blow sometime after we exit it, and he needs to take things he just might miss. Presently it is a catalog with Halloween costumes in it. I don't know. I can't explain how his mind works. Just smile and nod when what you really want to do is raise an eyebrow at his strange ways. Tick Tick Tick goes the clock. And Kendall is stuck behind him in the van screaming to get out. Hair.Flying.Everywhere. So now we get to redo the hair.

At this point I just want to scream, 'A Drop Off Lane would be a real novel idea!!!' Because every mom that drops of their child there has more then just this child and we all parade in and out; strollers, carriers, screaming toddlers, so on and so forth. It's a production that could be resolved in 2 seconds.

So I literally blink and it is time to pick her up. And I am moving Hector the Collector along. I have to make sure Jake is fed, changed, etc, and again wrestle Stanley all to be there on time. Because I won't be that Mom. I won't be the Mom who is late and picks up their lonesome child who is just standing there grief stricken with their teacher. Nothing against that Mom, it is going to happen at some point this year, but just not in the beginning when you are one of the new students and families at this preschool. Probably not kosher.

So you race in all the while E complaining his legs hurt and he just can't walk another step. Again...drop off/pick up lane. I'm just saying. So you try and hold it together because you are in public, but what you really want to say or I don't know, perhaps shout is, 'Ethan, if you don't move it, the pain in those legs is gonna be nothin' in comparison to what your fanny is going to experience!'

And there she is! The student!

On the first day Andy and I could not wait to hear what she had to say about it, however, the student typically has her own agenda, and on this day she proclaims once we are in the van, 'Please don't ask me lots of questions Mommy about school.' Who made this child? But once the monster was fed she 'shared' her school experience with her brother and I, secondhand I suppose, oh and her Daddy who was on speaker phone and she didn't know.

Apparently she was the counter for the day and there is 17, 30 kids in her class. I am going to go with the first number. And she is the newest one in the class. There is also a girl named Jasmine in her class and she wished that was her name. They forgot to feed the gerbils, and they had goldfish for snack again.

That night we had the Back to School Feast. The student ordered tacos for the menu, and we just celebrated the ensuing chaos in my life and to future college tuition. I asked the student to list three things for me she wanted to learn this year at school, and on the last day, we will read it to see if it was accomplished.

1. Be a better painter
2. How to do tattoos on my hand
3. Write my name

I don't know. It's interesting, right? At least she has some priorities?

Back to School Feast Set Up, Pre Taco Explosion

On the night before the second day of school we get home a little later then bedtime and the student was tired so she was all emotional. And as Andy is putting her to bed, he says, 'Kendall, if you cannot get yourself together and asleep, you will either not be able to go to school the next day, or not stay out late for birthday parties.' And she replies in what will surely be an Oscar winning performance, sobbing, mind you, 'What's the use in going to school? They don't even teach me how to read!!!!' Apparently someone has set the bar a little to high for preschool.