Seared might not be strong enough of a word...

People say that there are moments in each person's life that are so emotional that, when one looks back, they can remember where they were and what they were wearing.

A few of those memories for me are:

The day Challenger exploded.

Sept. 11, 2001

The day my Grandpa died.

Thursday November 5, 2015 will forever go down as a day I will never forget; neither what happened nor what I was wearing.

What happened on Nov 5, 2015?

It started out as a normal school day. My older kids had just gotten off to school. My younger kids were piddling around getting ready, as was I.

I went into my room, shut the door and laid my clothes for the day on my bed. **

** Side note: Does anyone else think it's weird that my master bedroom door doesn't have a lock?? I mean, if ever there was a room that needed a lock.... Right? Apparently not. **

So with my clothes on the bed, I proceeded into the master bath- which, thankfully, does have a lock- and took a shower. I stepped out, dried off, put my hair in the towel and went to put on my clothes.

I opened the bathroom door and looked up at my bed, which directly faces the bathroom.

To my horror, there sat my innocent 11 year old son…

1-2-3… Eyes on ME!!!

Yup. That day will be forever seared into my memory…down to the clothes that I was NOT wearing!!

He may need counseling.

I need to get that lock!!

Start your engines....

I have a little bit of competitiveness within me. You kinda have to be when you come from a big family. You have to compete for attention. Compete for the hot shower. Compete for that bowl of Lucky Charms.

Survival of the fittest.

That said, I didn't think that I felt that competition for my kids. I, of course, cheer for them when in sports, but I am okay if they don't win, or if the other team scores more goals. I don't get mad at the refs and I don't take a swing at the jerk parent who does.

But for whatever reason, this.....

...Pinewood Derby...does something to me.

It's not that I want my kids to beat other kids. I just want them to do good...aka beat other kids.

You should also know, that Hubs is really good at making fast cars. Wait...I mean my boys are really good at making cars...especially when Hubs helps them.

In years past he has always made winners. But this year I was nervous.

Nervous because we are now on boy child #2 and of course I wanted him to do as good as his older brother. 
Nervous because the weigh-in was Monday evening and at 3pm it was still just cut wood.
Nervous because he put the weights on the outside of the car.



I am not sure what I had to be nervous about....

That's my child on the top. Right next to the #1.

He got first place in his den. Oh, and first place overall. He is going to District. He is super excited. Me too.

Way to go Brody!!

Now if I could just find his scout shirt.....



Call me maybe.

He knows my number.

My eight year old.

He just memorized my cell phone number.

Now he calls me.

All the time.

And leaves me messages.

Important ones.

Like the one I had on my phone tonight.

"Ummm. Dad won't let us watch a movie. Bye"

.............................

Important indeed.

Oh, and he crotchets.

I love him!

Sure hope he calls me again.

How to clean your house....

They are supposed to be friends. I mean, that's why God sent them to us so close togther. Right?

Brody and Camden...the un-friends.

They always seem to be fighting or being mean or crying. Well, yesterday I had had enough.

"Because you can't seem to talk nicely to each other, you are now no longer allowed to talk to each other for 30 minutes. Talking to each other will be cause for extra jobs."

You should see my bathroom. Oh how it sparkles!

A smile on my face

I really am not a vulgar person. But this was not what I expected to see when I went to the zoo with my first grader. But see it we did. Always makes for good conversation on the way home.

Can I just say YAY!? I am so happy to be done with soccer. No more scrambling to find uniforms, socks, shin guards, shoes, balls, water bottles, etc. Can you tell it was time? So time.

Ain't he cute?!?! He is my baby...you know...the one who forgot how to be potty trained. I wish he would remember.  

It was free comic book day. Kobe has just started to get into them. This was Grandpa Captain America and a much older and wider Thor. Funny. But if you haven't seen Avengers yet, you must! I am not kidding! It really is that good!!

"First off, you have only been there once. Today. How are you a valued customer?"

"Secondly, it's only a good deal if you are shopping for rims." 

"And $70 is not practically free."  

Happy Mother's Day to you all!!

Angels, I tell ya

There are times you look back at certain experiences and laugh. There are other times you look back and cringe. This was one of those times.

We (Hubs, myself and 4 of our children) had just moved into a new apartment. My parents and a few siblings had come over to help us get things organized and set up.

My dad was responsible for setting up the bunk beds. He had also, apparently, taken upon himself the job of trying to kill my 2 year old. Yeah he is kinda like that. Okay, not really. Quite the opposite really. You will not find a more careful, caring, slightly overprotective grandparent anywhere. Except for this time.

I saw my dad and Brody, the 2 year old, go back to the kids room. Didn't think anything of it. In fact didn't even think about it at all until later because I was busy organizing and putting away.

When I finally did go back to the bedroom, about 3 hours later, to check out the bunk beds, I walked into the room and saw a screw driver sticking out of the electrical outlet. As in, the metal part was "plugged in" to the wall.

What the...? Who forgot...? How is my child not dead?
Then again, this is the son who had a piano fall on him and only rug burns to prove it. (Some day I will tell you that story.) The same son who almost drowned before my very eyes. The one who was bitten by army ants more than 30 times in 2 minutes. Yes, this is that child....

But a screw driver in the outlet!?
I laugh and cringe at that memory.

What's yours?

The many uses of PBJ's

Comfort.

For some it is a blanker. For others a stuffed animal. And still for others it is music.

For my third child it was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

For the life of me I can't figure out why that was his thing, or even where it came from. It wasn't like we introduced him to it. "Here son. Now let me tuck you in. Oh, here is your sandwich. Now go to sleep."

We didn't. I promise. And yet he would ask for it. Call out for it. Cry for it.

And it wasn't like he would eat it. Oh, no. We would put it in a sandwich bag and he would lay his head down and insist that we put it on the pillow next to him. And in the morning, it would still be there. Slightly smooshed, but still untouched.

Don't judge. You have all been there, at the end of a very long, stressful, day and your child just won't go to sleep and won't stop screaming. And you know he just tired and if he would just calm down for one minute, he would sleep. And if a PBJ is what is going to get the job done, then why not.

We did eventually wise up and reused the sandwich several days before disposing of it. And thankfully, it didn't last too long. But isn't that the weirdest thing?

But if later in his life, if he turns to PBJ's during stressful times, we will all remember him softly petting his sandwich as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Comfort food, indeed.

May cause hair loss

There should be a warning label on Avatar: The Last Air Bender movie.

And this is what it should say: MAY CAUSE HAIR LOSS!

I know this for a fact because it happened to me. Okay, not me but to my child which is almost to me. Let me explain.

Last Saturday night, my kids watched Avatar: The Last Air Bender. Not a bad movie. They loved it. Especially my boys. They loved Aang...this guy:

Pretty cool looking hairdo, yeah?

On him.

Fast forward to Sunday morning, about 20 minutes before church starts.

My 6 year old comes down the stairs and asks if I know where his hoodie is. I'm a little distracted trying to gather everything I need to entertain my children at church so I holler over my shoulder that I think it is in the garage.

Thankfully, I happened to look up on his way in and notice something strange going on in the front of his hair.

Can you see it?

No?

How about now?

"Come here for a sec. Your hair looks a little bit.... **gasp** What happened to your hair?" I asked.

"Ummm. Nothing. It's fine. Nothing happened," he fibbed.

"Um, yeah. Something happened. You shaved your head. In one spot. Right in the middle of your head. That's what looks like happened. Do you want to change your story?"

That is what happened. Somehow he got into the clippers and decided on the shortest setting, aside from scalping mode.  

"Let's just go to church. We can take care of it afterwards." was his solution.

"No. This is definitely something we have to take care of now. You will thank me later." 

So a word of caution: If you are going to watch the air bending Avatar, hide your clippers. 

You may not be able to resist the urge to Aang your bangs.

Spring???

Spring weather seems to be upon us.

Warm days and cool nights. Soccer games and allergies. Really, really strong wind.

Check. Check. Check.

Shorts...

Check

Short sleeved shirts...

Check

Winter trapping hat...

Check.

Snow boots...

Check.

Hubs asked, "Are you really going to let him go to school like that?"

"Yes. Yes I am."

You only live once. 

Welcome Spring!!

Where'd it go?

Gum: a child's anytime treat.

My kids love gum. It doesn't matter what flavor: "Hot blue" Winter Fresh, "Spicy" red cinnamon, or "Green kind". Pink is the favorite by far. But if you can chew it, they want it. And believe me, they can find it too. They can smell it a mile away, whether it is in my mouth or hidden in the depths of my bag. If there is gum, they will find it. Oh, yes, they will.


I don't get why they love it so much. For some reason, until they learn to blow a bubble, the gum doesn't stay in their mouth longer than 5 minutes. That isn't even long enough for the gum to take form. It still has it's flavor, people!

Then there is the issue of disposing of said gum. I prefer the garbage myself. But my children have tried a variety of ways to discard. Leaving it on their dinner plate, their food trash, the bottom of their own shoe, their back pocket.  I would be interested to know how much gum goes through my four year old's digestive system every week.... actually,no, I wouldn't.

So, today I took my two oldest sons grocery shopping with me. On our way to the store, my 5 year old asked for a piece of gum (because he could smell it clear in the back seat...rats!)  So I gave him one and on we went.

We had a great time at the store. You know, the usual: taking as many of the produce bags as you can get and making balloons out of them. Then hitting your older brother with it...and a full on UFC fight breaks out.  It is always fun to bring my boys shopping.

About 40 minutes later, we left the store with me kicking and screaming. We are heading home when my 5 year old Brody asks, "Mom, can I have a piece of gum?"

"What did you do with your other piece? Did you swallow it?" I asked.

"Ummm...no. I didn't swallow it." he replied.

"Well, did you put it on the ground? In a trash can?" I asked hopefully.

"Nope. I didn't. I promise, I didn't."

Exasperated I asked him, "Well, where did you put it?"

"Uhhh...I put it in my pocket. Then I did a somersault and then a cartwheel and it fell out."

(Laughing to myself and a little out loud) "You did a somersault and a cartwheel in the store? I missed that" I think I would have remembered that.

"Yup. I did. And that is when my gum fell out of my pocket."

Gum: It simply brings out the best in us.

For my son, it brings out the acrobat.

What have I done?

It's the end of the world as we know it...at least in our house.  Let me explain.

For 10 years I have been cutting hair in my house. Not because I am good.  I am not good at all. It is just that their hair is really blond and so any mistakes are unnoticable and so they think I am great, I am a cheapskate so I think it is pretty great too.

Then this weekend happened...

I DO NOT cut Kyla's hair. I want my daughter to love me always. I leave the cutting to others so she can dislike them when it doesn't turn out right. This weekend Kyla needed a trim. Kobe needed to get something from Target and so we made one trip. Kobe needed a haircut so we just had him get one while he was there.

Big mistake...

Don't get me wrong. His hair looks awesome. It is now styled and cute... But the problem is this: He was introduced to PRODUCT!

I didn't think it was gonna be a big deal. But then we had to buy our own to take home. And now his younger brothers have seen the product awesomeness and have all decided that they need it too.

Vanity is running rampid in our house. They are so dang cute with PRODUCT in their hair even I can't stop myself!! Just look at them.

What is a mother to do? It was all my doing and it can't be undone. Once they have had a taste of PRODUCT there is no turning back.

What have I done? What HAVE I done??

What's In Your Vent?

My son, Brody, never ceases to amaze me. Today was "REALLY clean your bedroom" day. I was in his and Camden's room cleaning it all by myself helping them get things organized. He had just discovered that he and Kobe could communicate through their heater vents.

So there I am, trying to figure out which clothes are clean, and which ones are dirty while the boys are yelling through the vent to each other. Lovely!

Kobe yelled from the other room, "Can you see the light?" Brody couldn't so he called me over to the vent.

I crawl up to the vent and notice something in the vent.

 "Do you know what is in the vent?" I ask Brody.

"Yes. That is my food trash."

"Food trash?!" I ask, puzzled. I wasn't sure that I wanted to know what that meant. 

I lift off the cover. Lucky for me the heater was on and so once the metal cover was lifted, about 50 trident gum wrappers, along with random crumbs start blowing in my face.

After the cloud of ...whatever it was...settled, I saw this...

 

 Oh my!!

Note to self: Buy Brody a trash...a real food trash. 

Second note to self: Check the vents regularly!

What's in your vent??