Dang it

Excuse my language. I took the most-est HI-larious video of Isaac today, from my cellphone, of course, it turned out perfectly, uploaded onto my computer fine, but none of the upload options give it good sound. It's so bad, actually, that all you can hear is the very loudest parts, and it sounds like banging. I can hear it fine on my computer. But Blogger video and YouTube both had the same problem. I even tried sending it directly from my phone to YouTube, and SAME. PROBLEM.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH.

I wanted to post it. So. bad.

Blogging is a swirling vortex of terror in my head right now. I am going to post this ridiculous post right now and then sit down and write about something that matters.

See you in an hour or so.

In honor of Wednesday

It's a "days of the week"... hat?

"What?!"

"Heehee. Wait, why are we laughing?"

"OK, that's enough. I'm losin' this thing. This ain't a hat."

This poor, poor boy. In a family of girls. With a mama who loooooves to laugh.

Of Dogs and Kids

We've got messes:

Popcorn.

Who needs a dog?

Don't judge me.

Yes, he ate all of it.

I didn't clean a bit of it.

Thank you.

Things that make you go hmm...

while riding in a van with 4 preschoolers. I tell ya, I could make up a list. Here's but one of them.


(on the way to preschool)

Miles: We're LATE! You need to go one hundred and forty miles per hour!

Me: Honey, this minivan does not GO 140 miles per hour.

Miles: Yes it does! It says it! (pointing to the speedometer) Right there!

Me: (Giggling) Well, yes it does, doesn't it?

Me:(Giggling... without ceasing... that's in the Bible somewhere, isn't it?)

Truly, I've never thought about how funny this is: Why does the speedometer on my mini. van. go all the way to 140mph? My practical Mom Honda Odyssey. 140 mph.

Is it just me, or does that strike anyone else as positively giggle-icious?

Maybe I should sign me up for the Mommy Minneapolis 500.


*Don't forget Foody Friday this week is desserts!!! Bring us all your yummy favorite dessert recipes!

What does your Latte say about you?

This is frighteningly accurate.

Good times.

What Your Latte Says About You

You are easygoing and pretty simple to please. You don't put up a fuss... ever. You can be quite silly at times, but you know when to buckle down and be serious. Intense and energetic, you aren't completely happy unless you are bouncing off the walls. You're totally addicted to caffeine... but you like to pretend like you aren't! You are responsible, mature, and truly an adult. You're occasionally playful, but you find it hard to be carefree. You are expressive and friendly, but you are never pushy.

What Does Your Latte Say About You?

And here's where he had his lobotomy...

... under the skillful care of the surgeon, aka Daddy.

The mother was not consulted, the mother was not even home. The mother was informed of the surgery when she returned home.

The real tragedy is that the surgeon did not refer to any instruction manuals in the process, ie.:

1)Hold the child still...

2)Have another adult present, to aid in accomplishing rule #1.

3)USE A GUARD on the clippers...

4)Don't use the over the ear taper guard to try and fix your mess caused by ignoring rule #3...

The surgeon did learn one other important rule. Hair-cutting must always take place in the presence of the Mommy.

Repeat after me: "Always. with. Mommy. Mommy's. Job."

However, there is always a silver lining. Actually, there are several silver linings here:

1)Mommy has a sense of humor. Mommy laughed instead of giving the surgeon a lobotomy.

2)Hair grows; and his speed of hair growth rivals his speed of head growth.

3)Mommy has this fun hobby called blogging.

4)Daddy has a sense of humor, which aids in #3.

'Nuff said.

Kids' art

She's baaaaaaack!! Y'all know I can't stay in the dumps for long. 'Tis not my nature. And, who could, when you've got 3 HI-larious kids to make you laugh? And laugh? And laugh?

And scream.

But mostly laugh.

For example, Corene drew a family picture today:

In case you don't recognize us, from left to right, it's Big Sis (the artiste), Isaac (the bumblebee), Daddy (the punk rocker), Mommy (in the miniskirt), and Lil Sis (oh ye of curly hair).

And, truly, what an amazing rendition. Especially of the Papa. I mean, look at the resemblance here:

AMAZING, don't you think??

Bwaaaa-hahahaha!!!!!

I KID! I so kid!

So not my husband. If you know him, you're cracking up right now. He's conservative. He's serious. He's a musician (Noooooo, not the spiky-hair garage band type. More like the tuxedo-clad orchestra type). We were bonafide band geeks, OK??

Oh, how I love kids' art. LOVE IT. Really I do. All 469 pieces of it that I received as gifts today. I need a bigger fridge. Or a bigger garbage can (Did i just SAY that??).

THIS one, however, is going into the "keep forever" book.

Mommy is Out of Order

I have 5 precious minutes to myself, doing my business in the bathroom, and there are 3 annoying sweet kids at the door, asking me (in no particular order), to "button my shirt", "help get the cap off the purple marker", and "cuddle". All at the same time. All to a mommy who is currently "out of order". Doesn't occur to them to ask DADDY who is sitting on the couch 5 feet away enjoying his mocha in peace.

And, why would a child (understand this is a purely hypothetical child, no relation to myself in any way whatsoever...) leave the kitchen table where she is eating breakfast with her father (who I don't even know), come to the bathroom door where the child's mother is taking a shower (rumor has it this mother doesn't even always take a shower every day!!!), and ask her to please get her a cup of WATER????!!!

Just let that one sink in for a minute.

Uh-huh.

Why is it that kids always ask MOM for everything? Is this just me?

I'm going to have an "out of order" sign made.

And teach my kids what it means.

And use it.

An enormous trip

Kelly at Love Well has recently posted on several "hubby is out of town" adventures. Well, today, I had an adventure of my own. No, hubby is not out of town, but he's working all weekend, and with family coming in to town, and zero food in the house, I was forced to make a trip to.... drumroll please...

Costco.

With three kids.

On a Saturday.

And the only time that worked in my schedule for the day was...

lunch time.

Am I crazy, or what? I figured, you know what? I'm just going to make do. I am going to have fun with it.

So, we get there, and my Costco card is NOWHERE to be found. I looked in every nook and cranny of my purse. nada. So we wait in line for 10 minutes to get a temporary card. Check.

I decided to feed the kids those enormous Costco hot dogs and pizza for lunch, we were hungry so we started with that. Found out they don't take debit or credit cards at the food place.

"You can stand in line at the cash register and pay there, they take debit cards". I looked around me and there were at least 5 people waiting in line in each of the 52 cash registers that were open, all with very full carts. Hellooooo, this is Costco.

"Or, there is an ATM machine around the corner". Great, what else can we do? So I fork over $13 in fees (or so it seemed) for a $20 bill, buy the food. Check.

My kids eat more than any other children I know. Corene ate an entire 1/4lb hot dog and a berry smoothie. Ava ate an entire slice of pepperoni pizza (if you are not familiar with Costco pizza slices, they are equivalent to almost a half a regular size pizza... enormous. ) I shared a hot dog with Isaac. All aforementioned children complained that they were "still hungry" at the end of said gluttonous feast. There are no high chairs in chez Costco, so the babe sits on my lap. Nobody spills, only a small amount of pizza sauce and ketchup on the front of our clothes. Check.

Potty. Check.

Costco has enormous carts because everything they have there is... enormous. Two kids can sit side-by-side in the front of the cart. So I had the two littler ones there, and Corene sat in the basket with the groceries. We filled the cart to the brim with my little girl in the cart, it was hilarious. Wish oh wish I had my camera. Finished the trip, $200 later. Not bad for Costco. Check.

Potty. Again. Check.

So the funniest part of the day is that as we were leaving the store, 3 kids IN the cart, one still buried somewhere in the basket, and some guy driving by us is YELLING out the window, "CHECK OUT THAT LADY!! SHE'S EVEN GOT ONE IN THE CART!! BAHAHAHA!!!!" Now, I didn't quite know how to take that. It could be complimentary. But, this guy looked like Magnum PI, and he was hanging out of a pickup truck. Not a sympathetic fellow. He was laughing at me.

I am not ashamed. I turned around and gave him a big smile.

The smile said, "Shut up".

I am woman. Hear me roar.

Ahhh...

This:





is what woke me up this morning, and I happen to be currenly enjoying. Can't beat that. It's a beauty, ain't it?


When I first married Matt, he "hated" coffee. He loved to tease me, "How can something that smells SOOOO good taste SOOOO bad?" He held to this delusion for a good 8 years of our marriage. Then came "the coffee shop craze" which lured me in a big way, and after one particular "conversation"... ahem... about how MUCH one coffee cost, and how often are you buying them?? There was one fat "GUILTY" stamp right on my forehead. So, I ever so gently, and sweetly, suggested that maybe he could get me an espresso machine for my.. ah.. birthday that's coming up! Well, after some pleading, batting of eyelashes, serious promises about how I WILL use it, I will use it, it WILL save us money, I will I will I will, Oh PLEASE? My darling husband bought me a beauty of an espresso machine on eBay.


If you know me, you know I can get a bit manic about things... I go through phases. MAJOR phases. There was the Stampin 'up phase ("Oh please oh please, I will save us money by buying these $100 of stamps because then I can make our own cards! Just think of how much money we'll save!" Problem: I am not so crafty, phase lasted a matter of months). Enter eBay selling phase (This lasted quite some time and was great fun, but was UNBELIEVABLY time consuming and a ton of work. On the upside, I did sell some of my Stampin' up collections for a pretty penny!!!!). And quite a number of "entrepreneurial" ideas I've come up with: A wedding music service, helping couples find musicians for both the ceremony and reception. A "Let's Dish" franchise I was going to purchase and move back to San Diego. A funky gift shop called "Dumpster Divas" I was going to open with Aunt Dawn. (OK, this was and IS a great idea, I'd still love to do this someday - maybe in the lobby of my B&B I'm going to own!)

But I digress... where were we... ah yes, a beautiful functional espresso machine was sitting on my counter and I was obsessed with learning all about how to make the perfect shot of beautiful espresso for my beautiful latte. It took a few months, but I did eventually learn to make a pretty mean latte.


So, said coffee-hating husband began a teaching job where he had to commute 1.5 hours out to a college in rural MN to begin teaching at 9:00 am. So he would leave around 7:00. Hello, we're musicians, people. We don't get up until 7 or 8:00. This was not an easy task for poor Matt.

I would make Matt a mean cup of hot cocoa. (That is an oxymoron if I've ever heard one - a mean cup of hot cocoa ). Wimpy, wimpy. So I'd say to my bleary-eyed man, "I'll make an extra shot of espresso, and just put a half-shot in your hot cocoa just to give you a little extra caffeine!" He'd taste it and grimace, and go out the door with espresso-spiked hot cocoa in hand. Well, lo and behold, one day, my coffee-hating hubby said, "Could you p-p-put a whole shot in today?" Mwuaahaha. Oh, yes, honey. I can.


And, this, my blogging friends, was the beginning of the end. It was only a matter of time before the man is THE obsessed coffee maker and drinker in this house, and I get a mean (however not so lean) latte handed to me almost every morning. And both of us, and my bud Jenna, I might add... agree that the coffee in our house is better than any of those foofy coffee joints. Coffee date? My house... come on over!

One Starry Night... or one sleepy night

OK, for my 10th post (WOOHOO!), a silly laugh at Jenny post, originally posted in a MOPS newsletter:


I went to the grocery store one night a few summers ago after my kids went to bed. I had a newborn, so I was a bit... ummm... sleep deprived. It was one of those days where I really intended to go during the day, but I kept getting sidetracked, and never made it. I was, to say the least, very tired. I was in somewhat of a daze, but managed to get everything I needed, and headed home. Somewhere in the deepest part of my little head, I had a fleeting thought that the amount of groceries I had in my cart as I finished my shopping didn’t seem like as many as I had just unloaded into my car. I processed this all, subconsciously, as I drove the few miles back to my house. My thoughts went something like this:

I must have packed those groceries really well in the bags, I thought I had bought more….

How much did I spend on those groceries, anyway?

Hmmm…. I didn’t even look at the receipt when I signed it….

Actually, I don’t remember signing a receipt……

(long pause)

DID I sign a receipt?

(light bulb moment)

I didn’t pay for my groceries.

(sinking feeling)

I walked out of the grocery store without paying for my groceries.

(laughing now)

I STOLE MY GROCERIES!!!!

Well, as I was driving BACK to the grocery store, anxiously awaiting my surely eminent arrest, I was then processing “How did this happen?” I know you’re wondering. Let me explain. I started bagging my groceries right as the checker started scanning my order - just as I always do. Bagging, bagging…. I glanced up and noticed a break in the groceries (a significant one - like at least 2 feet), so I assumed that the break in the groceries was where my order stopped and the next person’s order began, when in reality, those were my groceries, there was just a break because the checker had paused for a little while and I had continued to bag… I did not at all consider that I had yet to pay, I just assumed I was done and I left. Nobody stopped me, nobody even came to look for me (I certainly didn’t hurry to the car.) I left half of my groceries on the belt.

When I returned to the store, there was no police car parked outside (I was seriously nervous about that). It all turned out OK, the manager got a good laugh out of me, saying “Yeah, we thought something was different… most people who steal their groceries steal ALL of their groceries!!!” Not such a clever thief, was I?

I need to be able to laugh at myself, I need to be able to hear that I am not the only one who does crazy goofy things. (Well, I may be the only one who’s ever walked out without paying for her groceries, but that’s OK!!!) I also need to be a real encouragement to other moms who need to hear my crazy goofy stories (I have plenty of them, I assure you!!!).

So... you got any?