Days 158, 159, and 160 ~ Weekend Wrap-Up

My life, if you haven't already grasped from reading my blog, is pretty random.

If there were a word that emphasized random even more I would use it.

I feel like I jump from thing to thing, always diving in full force, and although I usually will see that thing through (mostly because I hate that "what-if" feeling), there are times I don't.

For instance, there was this time when I was in 8th grade and was fascinated by all things John F. Kennedy, and I rented the Warren Commission Report from the library, convinced all that was needed was my fresh set of eyes, and I could solve JFK's murder.

Or the time when I was even younger (maybe 8 or 9) and after a trip to The Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, and being enthralled in the Ancient Egypt exhibit, I bought a book on hieroglyphics, and decided I would teach myself to be fluent in them.  (I'm not sure if that is the correct terminology, but you get the idea.)

Gosh I was a strange child.

Okay, gosh I am a strange person.

Is it any surprise then, that I am throwing myself into the latest project full force.  As I said before, I can't say just yet what it is, but I will say I have spent almost all weekend purging my house of junk and clutter and scrubbing surfaces, and basically getting it "production ready."

We have a producer coming over on Tuesday to meet my family.

No I am not getting my own TLC show.

And although I have jumped in feet first, and I am excited about the possibilities of this project, we have not officially booked it yet, and I am always worried about silly things.
 What kinds of things?
Sure I'll tell you.

I am worried that our dog won't stop barking at new people.
I am worried Brody will insist on wearing some strange concoction of clothes.
I am worried Keira will turn into her attitude filled alter-ego and give people her mad face.
I am worried Ty will roll his eyes, and tell people his entire family is crazy.
I am worried Nate will go on and on and on about some fantastical story, that starts out true and then takes a sharp turn somewhere into the wolves that live in our backyard and hunt raccoons and snakes who he growls at and fights with his bare hands.
I am worried Nathan will never forgive me for this.


Those are just a few.

But then I think of the opportunities and memories, and potential it has, and I forget all about those worries.

Until I am in bed thinking about that closet that needs to be cleaned out, and wondering if they will ask to look inside it, and then they will open it and books and dvds and board games and thousands of Legos, and all those shoes missing a mate will fall all over them and bury them alive and then I'll have to cal 9-1-1 and explain that I didn't know they were going to open that closet, and I'll have to apologize to their families.

I have no idea where Nate gets his imagination from.


I am just about done with the house though. 

I cleaned Friday.

Saturday I went from errands, to dropping of Ty with his friend, to a baby shower, to a birthday party, to the library, to getting Ty to crashing and swearing I'd never pack a day so full again.

Sunday I cleaned (and cooked too) from 9am to 5:11pm.
I know it was 5:11 because I asked Nathan earlier in the day if I could leave for the gym at 5, but I was delayed while feeding the kids dinner, and so 5:11 I walked out the door.

I came home to give the kids baths and get them ready and in bed, then put away 4 loads of laundry, and shower, and finally at 10:30 I sat down to relax.  I think I lasted a whole half hour before I was fast asleep.

Weekend wrap-up photos:

 This is my diet.  I ate about 1/4 of this before I was stuffed.

 This is Nate, practicing his torturing skills on my poor cat, Bella.

This is my mudroom/sunporch.  It is empty and spotless.  It is a miracle.

Day 154

5 am workouts are a bitch.

I have a 1.7 second window where my alarm goes off and I realize it is because my super peppy, go-get-'em night time self set it at that time to get up and workout, but if that 1.7 second realization passes and I do not actually get up, I am zonked out until 7 when my next "school" alarm goes off.

I know this.

I know my brain has magic persuasive powers that make me rationalize why I don't need to exercise today, and how tomorrow would be better, or that maybe Nathan will come home before 8pm and I could go before dinner, or even if he comes home, I can go after the kids are in bed.

Oh you tricky, tricky, manipulative brain.


The thing is, if I jump up when the alarm goes off, I am actually good.  I dare say I am even awake.

So I had basically this exact monologue in my head this weekend, at the gym actually (because I was peppy, go-get-'em Nicole at the time), and when my alarm went off at 5am I momentarily thought I set it for 1 am, because that is what time it felt like (that is what time my brain wanted me to think it was at least), I shook the thought out, jumped up and left.

Just like that.

Except I peed first and brushed my teeth.

I even made things slightly easier for myself by actually sleeping in my workout clothes.  Think what you will, but getting that extra 2 minutes (okay let's be honest, it's more like ten when I just wake up and am fumbling around in the dark and my stubborn brain is refusing to communicate to my limbs how to perform simple tasks like putting my leg into my pants, and I end up hopping around, tripping over my dog and waking everyone up) to sleep more, is worth literally looking like I just rolled out of bed, because I did.

And the people who frequent the gym at 5am don't seem to care that my mascara from the day before has smudged all around my eyes, and I look like a raccoon.
On yet another tangent, I should say I really wish I was one of those women who have a nightly routine, and stand in front of the mirror, washing their face before bed, applying their nightly moisturizer, a little headband holding their hair back, talking to their husband about some important thing.  But I'm not.  When I am done for the night, I am done, and I am lucky to remember to change into pjs, and not fall asleep standing at the sink doing dishes, or in one of my kids' beds.

That is the truth.  Maybe I will adopt a nightly routine when I am thirty.

Yes, I definitely will.  Thirty sounds like a totally appropriate age to have a good nightly routine.



I think I get a lot more accomplished when I am awake that early.

And I think it makes me a better mom.

How?
Oh, well why don't I tell you!

For example, I am more apt to whip up some pancakes, maybe add chocolate chips, or blueberries.
Or some scrambled eggs and bacon.
Or french toast.

If I don't wake up early, cereal or waffles in the toaster.

See?
Better mom.  (Take that manipulative, procrastinating brain!)

I got so much laundry done, I read lots of books with the kids, I allowed Keira to convince me she had to go to the bathroom every 7 minutes (she really just has an obsession with sitting on her Dora seat), and that was okay because by 9am, I had the dishes done, the floors swept, the counters and cabinets and walls cleaned, the laundry was already in, and toys were being picked up as they were coming out.

Ladies and gentleman, maybe I found the key to life.

Or the key to my life.  I'm sure all of you are more responsible and make your children pancakes whenever they want, and have your houses clean all the time.

I bet you also drink a lot of coffee.

I don't.

I hate coffee.

Yes, I said it.  I HATE COFFEE.

And even though I like to steal a bite out of my kids munchkins every now and then, I actually hate donuts too.

I had a friend over in the afternoon, and I get as excited for adult conversation as my kids would for a trip to Disney World.


I realize I have strayed so far off what I began talking about.  That is my brain rebelling.  Getting me back for all the snide comments I have made.  It wants you to think I am crazy.

I probably am.

But yesterday was a good day.


If I was talking to you in person right now, and happened to have a microphone in my hand, I would now lean in and say "Nicole, OUT!"

Then I'd turn super dramatically, drop the mic and while walking away throw my arms up in the air, hands giving off peace signs.

Days 145-148

So far behind, so very much to catch up on.

But life has been full, and that is all one can ask for, right?


Saturday We went from Ty's baseball tryouts, to Ty's playoff basketball game (they sadly lost by 3 points, after leading almost the entire game,) to the park for a couple of hours of running around and playing baseball with the kids (because it was beautiful out), to home for baths and shower and dinner and bed.

Keira raising her stick at the park/baseball field.

I woke up on Sunday morning to Brody and Keira in the middle of my bed, sleeping like this:

  Melted my heart.  Completely.  I almost melted right through the floor.  Their relationship has really developed and blossomed.  They are as close as can be, and I hope it remains that way always.

Sunday seemed to be traveling a million miles an hour.  It may have have had something to do with daylight savings, but I will not  complain about that, because I happen to love, love, love more time to play outside, and more time to run, and more time to go for walks, and more time to soak up some vitamin D, and more time to do all the things that I have been missing these past few winter months.
Sunday morning Ty had two of his friends over to rehearse for their school's talent show auditions.  While they were over, I made a massive batch of spring rolls to take to my grandmother's birthday party.  I picked out my clothes for my video shoot later that night (I had to bring a few different choices.)  As soon as Ty's friends left, we rushed out to my grandmother's party.  We had a great time visiting with family.
In fact, we had such a great time, that the actual time creeped up on me and I ended up dashing back home just in time to change and say goodnight to the kids and head into Boston.
The location of the video shoot was at the Boston Public Library.  Although I have briefly been inside before, I did not remember much about it.  It is stunning to say the least.
We waited a very, very long time to shoot.  Just about three hours to be exact.  There were only 16 of us cast as "dancers", and we spent most of that time talking and getting to know each other.  We also spent the time watching the band film outside in the freezing cold.  They looked amazing.  When it was time to film we went upstairs, and I was blown away by just how ornate and intricately beautiful the library is.  I wish I had thought to bring my phone with me upstairs just to snap a few photos of the rooms we were in.
We danced a lot, and did a bunch of takes.  (We were filming Night Shift's video for DJ Got Us Fallin In Love Again, which once our video is out, you will see we filmed it to look exactly like Usher's video.)  We watched a playback at the end of the shoot, and it look so incredibly cool.  I honestly can not wait for you all to see it. 
It all made that fire inside me roar that much more. 

Monday I was beyond tired.  It was a struggle to do much of anything.  I picked up as best as I could, and went through the daily motions.  There was a lot of snuggling and book reading thrown in though, because on Monday, that is what was comforting and what felt right.
We also went to Ty's school for his talent show tryouts.

Tuesday morning was spent at an audition, followed by dropping Nate off at school, having a friend stop by for a bit, having one of Ty's friends over after school, and the best part of the whole day, having my washer fixed after almost two whole weeks.

TWO WHOLE WEEKS.

So clearly you know what I will be doing for the rest of the week.

If I can manage to crawl out from under the 10,897 lbs of dirty clothes around me.

At least you'll know where to look if you haven't seen me for a while.

Days 141, 142, and 143

Escape.

We are craving it.  The pent up winter energy is creeping out of our pores.

Don't get me wrong.  I actually enjoy the winter.  There is something very satisfying about the change of seasons, and getting to see everything "sleep" for the winter, to grow back in beautiful colors in the spring/summer.  It makes me appreciate each season.  I just wish sometimes, winter was only a month or so long.  Because snow is pretty and all, and finding inside activities can be a nice break, and well, hot chocolate and snuggling under the blankets is amazing, BUT I need warm air more.  I need beach trips and dirty feet from running around outside barefoot.  I need the smell of fresh cut grass, and walks to the park, or anywhere.  I need less t.v. distractions, and more good books being read while sipping lemonade and dipping my feet in the kiddie pool.

So am I totally excited that I saw two days in the sixties predicted for next week?  Yes.

I have a strong feeling, maybe more of an internal instinct that the hibernation period is coming to a close.

I even saw the green sprouts of my gorgeous tulips peeking out of the ground.

This year Nathan and I have talked a lot about our garden.  We have always wanted a nice garden, one constantly blooming.  We have tried, but not wholeheartedly.  Gardening was one of the things Sharon did so well, and loved so much.  She was known for her amazing gardens throughout her already beautiful property.  Because of all of this, Nathan and I have decided to jump in and go all out for the garden this year.  We are already planning and getting excited about the possibilities.

We have spent the past few days taking it somewhat easy.  I am still, of course, recovering.  We have made little trips to places like the library and craft store.

We have been painting a lot lately, which has come about out of the necessity for finding something we haven't done yet this winter, and therefore will keep everyone from getting cabin fever.

We have been opening the windows and venturing outside when we can.

I am entering a surge of auditions, and am excited about the possibilities and opportunities that they hold for me, and for my family.

Everything feels full and new and very much on the verge, with life in general right now.

It is a good place to be.

It is an even better place to be to see that, and feel that.  There is a larger gratitude for the moment, when you are aware that the winter is closing and life is kicking into bloom right in front of you.

Day 140

First, who (no cheating) can name what movie this song is from?

Seriously, DO NOT CHEAT.

It makes me want to do my best riverdancing impressions.  And hop and dance around my kitchen.

I recently forced Nathan to suffer through me watching aka saying every line from the movie.  He is not a fan of me doing this.  But if I have to watch 3:10 to Yuma (which I used to like until Nathan seemingly only watches that now, and is miraculously is on any time he takes control of the t.v.) then he can deal with me reciting every line from this movie, or any other one I care to as well.

It's not like I force him to go to the movies with me and Kerrie.

Believe it or not, this is a punishment, because as I said before, we don't shut up... ever.  It's like we immediately revert back to being 13 years old, and we just convinced our parents to waste money on Bop or Teen Beat magazine, so we know all the latest gossip on anyone and everyone.

Are you still with me?

I overdid it yesterday, and paid for it last night, when I became horribly tired.  That continued into today, but I refused to let it take over my life.  I snuggled with the kids in the morning, and then once Nate and Ty were in school, I took a nice walk with Brody and Keira.  I even dared to go without a stroller, (it must be due to my sick brain that I decided to do that.) but they were cooperative, well behaved, and didn't complain at all.  I think their older brothers whine more.  It must be that Brody and Keira were just grateful I was off the couch and actively interacting with them.

Funny little story; while wiping Brody's butt the other day, he gently rubbed my leg and said "Your legs are beautiful mama."  It was such a sweet moment, and he was being so genuine and loving.  Too bad he was bent over and I was wiping smelly poop from his butt.  It made me laugh, and smile.

Here's another random tid bit for you.  I stink at some basic girl things.  I love fashion.  Heck, I used to work in the center of Boston's fashion world pre-kiddos.  I had mostly designer clothes, and my mom will gladly remind me of my former disgust with the store I now could not live without, Marshalls.
But today, I was suddenly slapped in the face with my disgusting, falling apart, hand me down purse.
I generally do not buy pocket books.  My last few have been barely used hand me downs.
What kind of woman am I that I would even walk around with suck a tattered, old, falling apart thing?
Well, I decided that an evening clutch looked much better than this purse, and I rummaged through the cookie and cracker crumbs, broken crayons, random lip glosses, and a diaper that is a size too small now, decided there was nothing of use in it, and tossed it.
Evening clutch it is for now.

The floor of my car very closely resembled the bottom of my purse until yesterday, when I pulled over a trash barrel and cleaned it.  I even vacuumed it out.  No longer will I rush the kids out of the car for fear that a juice box, ten match cars, two dolls, and a sippy cup with old milk will fall out while I am talking to another mother at their school.

Because that would be embarrassing, and has never ever happened before.

Pffffshhhhhh.

The vacuum may or may not still be in my car.

At least it is clean though, right?

I swear I will change my dirty car and disgusting old purse habit before I am thirty.

Brody snuggling with me.  I love snuggling.

The new skirt I made for Keira.  I am in love with it and it took me a half hour to make. 

Well That Was A Fun Waste Of Time

I saw a post about this website, and well 45 minutes later, and a lot of silly laughing, I am sharing it with you.

This website is full of the kind of awkwardness that I think is just hilarious. I particularly thought this one was good. Not that slavery is ever funny, but well this exchange is.

Visit the site yourself.

A Good Housewife

I read this article on a blog recently, and could not resist sharing it with my readers.
Although I do think there is a dash of "well okay that makes sense" advice in here, all in all it sure made me glad I am not in the 1950's right now.

I added my own commentary in here in purple.

The Good Wife's Guide (5/13/55 Houskeeping Monthly)
Housekeeping Monthly May 13, 1955 | May 13, 1955 | Un-Named

The Good Wife’s Guide

1. Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favorite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.

I get this one. I'm not sure about making it ALL about him, but planning ahead for dinner saves on stress and it's good to have a dinner ritual if and when you can.

2. Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you’ll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people.

Uhhh, nice idea, but lets be honest, Nathan is lucky if I am not covered in mud, pee, poop, puke, and if I even had time to put on make up/do my hair in the first place. Maybe this is something I should work on...

3. Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.

Hmm. I don't even know where to begin with this one. I don't know how happy he'd be about me telling him where I found the remote this time, as "interesting" as it is to me after searching for two hours just to put on Dora for twenty minutes of peace and Spanglish singing children.

4. Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives.

This I actually do. Without fail, every day. I make the kids do it too. It makes me feel like he will know I wasn't just letting the kids take control of the house all day and had some order, even if it is destroyed again 10 minutes after he comes home.

5. Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper etc. and then run a dust cloth over the tables.

Well again, I do the first half, but dusting is a Thursday chore... if I remember on Thursday.

6. Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.

Ha. okay. My house will never be a place of rest and order, as hard as I may try. Maybe at 3 in the morning, but then there are still sleepwalking children, and random night time bed crashers...

7. Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children’s hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet.

I wish the kids would play along with this rule, but I will not change an outfit covered with the day's grime for the hour they see him before they get ready for bed. That would add like two more loads of laundry a week. And I'm happy if the dishwasher, washer, or dryer is going.. it means there are no dirty dishes/clothes lying around!

8. Be happy to see him.

Lord I am! Once he comes home my chances of peeing alone increase by about 75%!

9. Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.

I'm starting to think that this person also created Stepford Wives.

10. Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first – remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.

I get the first half, not so much the he is mightier than thou thing though.

11. Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.

Can't the evening be OURS? I don't care what anyone says, I still think my world if filled with much more strain... or stress, okay but I guess it's also filled with more fun too.

12. Your goal: Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.

Agreed, but for all of us.

13. Don’t greet him with complaints and problems.

Didn't we already go over this? Is this saying we complain to much?

14. Don’t complain if he’s late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.

You better damn well be sure I'll be "complaining" if he's out all night without good reason.

15. Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.

Sure, as long as I get a chance to do it on the weekends.

16. Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice.

Did he just become a child? Arrange his pillow? Can he not remove his own shoes? I will try to alternate using my pleasant voice and shouting for the kids to quiet down so their dad can enjoy a gosh darn drink already! I'm starting to feel bad for my grandmother.

17. Don’t ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.

Aaaaand you lost me.

18. A good wife always knows her place.
Thanks for the tutorial in why this is no longer a modern day practice.

I LOST it

Oh LOST. I will miss you so much.
I got into LOST a season late, and Nathan and I spent 3 whole days locked in our living room unable to break away from the t.v. Seriously. How did the kids even get fed those three days? (I'm only kidding about the kids part, not about the spending three days watching season 1 of LOST.)
It was then that our love affair began, and we became such avid fans and viewers from that moment on.
I think with a cultural phenomenon like this show, it was even more intriguing to guess along with your family, friends and the country really as to what was going to happen, and where it was all leading.
Tonight answered that. Did y'all cry as much as me? It seemed like each reuniting of characters the emotions built. I mean Shannon and Sayid?!?! To even throw that in there, ugggg so happy.
I think if you were a fan or not of tonight's finale (I was a fan) you can't deny that it left you emotionally fulfilled as far as how that characters turned out. Did it answer everything? No. But that was okay. (Okay, to be honest, the only storyline that I have wondered about since they left it was Walt. They put so much into him and how he was special and then, nothing.)
I truly believe it came full circle though. Thank you LOST for you creativity, consistency and for being the best source of television entertainment.
You will be missed.

Pay It Forward

The kindness of strangers always intrigues me. Take last weekend. I took the kids to the park. We had the entire park to ourselves for about 45 minutes before a woman came with her daughter. My boys were slightly more raucous than normal that day, and from my perception this woman was looking at my family in what I thought was a look of terror and horror. I felt a bit defensive, but I knew my boys were being loud and reckless, and honestly I had given up on much order and rule that day. I took them to the park for the purpose of letting them "get it all out." Twenty minutes and lots of wrestling, jumping around, screaming, and beating their chests later, this woman came over and asked me if they were all mine. I laughed and said yes. And here's the part where if I could have stuck my entire foot in my mouth I would have. This woman explained to me that she only had one child and she could only imagine the cost of buying them all clothes, amongst everything else. She then told me she just cleaned out her daughter's closet and was about to donate the clothes, but would love to give them to me if I had room to store them.
Jerk. I felt ashamed for jumping to conclusions, and annoyed at myself for judging someone. I speak to my children often about lessons like this. Do not judge a book by it's cover, and all that jazz, and here I was doing the complete opposite.
I learned my lesson well.
On the subject of passing along clothes, I need to make a point to say how lucky I have been. I am a stickler for saving the boys clothes, and have many boxes and bins and Nathan's aggravation to prove it. I love the memories some of these clothes hold. I have stored a few of my favorites away in the hopes that they will be worn by my grandchildren some day, and create all new memories, but I have passed on the rest. A very good friend of mine, (who has passed on some of her daughters things to Keira) said it perfectly, "you get what you give in life." I could not agree more.
I have been lucky to receive clothes from a few friends, and it is like Christmas when these exchanges occur. Not only do we save money, but we get to see these clothes carry on with someone we know will put them to good use.
After lots of saving of clothes, it is an absolutely freeing feeling to just simply pass them all on this time around.

BLAH

I am SO SICK.



Isn't that enough of a reason to write something??? Who can I complain to if not you, dear readers? Didn't you want to know that I can't be less than 3 feet away from the toilet? (I calculated that. Three feet is the exact distance I can magically leap from the point my stomach cramps into a ferocious ball of fury to point of impact.)
Where are the fairy nannies when you need them? I actually contemplated keeping the kids home from school today just so I didn't have to get up. Then I remembered yesterday's useless snow day massacre and came to my wary senses.
Aren't you glad you decided to check in with me today?

What Animal Are We Eating?

I am a pseudo vegetarian. There. Make sense of that. It all started when I was younger and learned the working of a farm (sorry Dad, just know I'm not blaming you directly.) I have gone years, months, weeks, days, even just mere minutes being vegetarian. I held out the longest from some time towards the end of high school until about three days after I found out I was pregnant with Ty, when his Nana and I went out to Fridays and I ordered a bacon cheeseburger. I then proceeded to eat bacon at all 5 meals I ate every day for the remainder of the pregnancy. Suck on that PETA. (You'd think I was joking but the 57 pigs I put in the ground will vouch for me.)
Recently my children have realized that meat was once living, and enjoy grossing each other out, okay grossing me out by asking what animal our food came from and then making that animal's designated "sound" throughout dinner. Well folks, 9 years later, with all the credit due to my lovely boys, I have once again converted. It started out slowly, pushing the meat to the side of my plate or hiding it in my napkin as I told the boys they had to finish their food, but Nathan's meat and potato appetite has made me aware I have avoided making meat in the past week. The boys' groans over "more black beans" and my response lectures about the amazing amount of protein they contain have reached their peak.
I should tell you just because I am a herbivore does not mean I make the rest of the family eat that way. HOWEVER with that said, I have been slowly and secretly changing the eating habits of my family. It started out years ago with eliminating white pasta, white bread and white rice. Trust me, Nathan was not too happy with the no white bread rule. He rebelled often and on grilled cheese or sandwich days went out and bought a loaf of white bread "just for him." About two years ago it was no white flour. Last year I eliminated soda. I am *hoping* that by slowly making these changes over the years it doesn't shock them too much and they just get used to them. Folks, I am fully aware I will have to make two or three trips to the grocery store or farmer's market a week now, but honestly I don't mind. It gives me less to remember at once.
And that is my post for the day.

Spring oh Spring

Winter blues have set in. Cabin fever have taken over. HELP! Spring, I need you. I need my yard to not be soaked in slush, or iced over. I long for green grass and light jackets and sweatshirts. My mud room has been taken over by gloves and mittens and hats and boots and snowsuits and I look at the bin they belong in and curse it, and think about just putting it all down in the basement until next time.
I spend free time looking up kid friendly hiking trails (something I am vowing to take up this year, so hold me to it.) I question my Eastern roots this year in a way I never have before. Why is this winter so darn difficult to get through? Is it because we were robbed of our summer with two months plus of rain? I'm thinking that is the answer.
To stay sane, I am wondering, what are some things you and your family do to beat these winter blues? I am especially interested in low cost/no cost ideas. Museums and play areas are fun, but you can only do them so many times. Let me hear the creative, interesting stuff!

C is for Cookie

Readers, meet the cookie that almost burned my house down. While cooking a tuna casserole a few nights ago, I was shocked to see the bottom of my oven suddenly burst into flames. Turns out Brody didn't think this cookie was quite done cooking, so sometime throughout the day he shoved it way down into the crack at the bottom of the oven. A bowl of water and lots of smoke later, I saw the culprit, and got it out.

Heartfelt

The people of Haiti, and their family and loved ones are in my thoughts and prayers. I am relinking this page with six ways you can help.

Death by Laundry

When they find me, I will be surrounded by clothes, drowning. This is one week's worth, minus towels.

Uh Oh

For those who think I may exaggerate on how much laundry I do, here's what the SEARS repair man told me today. He said "You must do a whole lot of laundry, because I don't see that much wear and tear unless the dryer is about 5 or 6 years old."
Reference point, our dryer is not even two years old.
Does this mean we will be buying a new unit every two years? Crap.

Mother of the Year

*Warning I will be descriptive.*

Last night when I was getting Keira to bed, while also convincing the older two boys not to tackle in the house and telling them to brush their teeth and get in their jammies, all while talking over the Red Sox game that was turned up too loud but I couldn't find the remote to turn it down, oh and while cooking rice and veggies while Nathan was outside grilling, AND while calling for Brody, who escapes upstairs to climb on top of the boys bunk bed every chance he gets, so while two of my sixteen arms were working on the changing the baby's diaper my eyes noticed her bum looked a tad red, so it told the other parts of my brain who were focused on the previously mentioned stuff, and told my other sets of eyes that they all had to focus on Keira's butt and examine it to see if it was the start of a diaper rash. The consensus of my mind was it looked okay, but it wouldn't hurt to putt some diaper rash ointment on it just to play it safe. All in agreement, say "I" and my mind broke, my other eyes, started searching for the boys, checking on the time, trying to decide how much longer for the food, etc. My girlfriends had given me a package of butt paste, that I hadn't needed yet, so I opened the package, distracted by the cute logo (ingenious marketing idea), because when you are able to be a mother and separate your mind like this, you are easily distracted. I put a tiny bit on, put her diaper on and then STOP. What is that NOISE? What is THAT? All senses are now focused on my baby girl who is SHRIEKING and flailing her arms, in a clearly pained version of trying to flap her wings and fly away. I picked her up and she is red faced, tears flowing, stiff as a board, besides her horrible flying attempt, and when she is able to get sound out (yes at times crying so hard that no sound came out... you know that cry) it was a scream. WHAT HAPPENED?!?!
Then my mind focused. Butt Paste. Damn you Butt Paste. All of my contributing mind parts were talking at once, "Maybe you got some in her OTHER area", "Maybe it migrated when you putt the diaper on", "Maybe she's not a boy and you should have thought of this as a possibility!"
Ugh.
I took her diaper off, she seemed to be ten shades redder than before. Crap. I tried using a wipe to get it off. Well, lets just say this sent her into an even more frantic tirade than before, and had I known that was EVEN POSSIBLE I would have gone another route. The only thing that calmed her down was holding a warm washcloth like a diaper on her and rocking her.
Yes, mother of the year right here.

Whine

Would like to know how so many moms get to go out at night??? Is it not enough that my mom friends with older kids can go out, but now mom friends with babies too? Ok, not to throw a pity party, but I'm not ready to leave my babies for more than two hours or so for the first hmmm... 6 months or maybe year, and if I do, I am more concerned with the baby then having fun. But when oh when did it become easy for moms to go out sans baby? I now feel insecure that I am more attached to my babies than normal. Ugh.

Ok, I Shopped Around

I found a deal over $100 cheaper than what we were paying and we are just going to switch providers. C'mon... admit it... you were a little sad you weren't going to have these updates and ramblings for a while...

Yay

Our "new" castle. Thank you GMa!!!