Swweeeeet!

I HAD to get my oil changed today because . . . well . . . I'm only 3000 miles over when I should've gotten one. You know that old saying about the doctor's kids always being sick? Yeah, well, the mechanic's wife's As*hole van is always over on its oil change.

Chandler isn't here today, so Kady and the babies and I loaded up and drove into town. Kady had already had a meltdown when I told her I just had to refix her hair. She was SO proud of how she'd fixed it herself and I hated to burst her little bubble, but man, it was something else. Then when she came out of her bedroom in her leather sandals and Strawbaby Shootcake socks with the fuzzy balls on the heels (well, only on one - the other one is ball-less) and I told her she couldn't wear the socks with the sandals, she was crushed. So I relented on the socks. When Abby was her age and would get an independent streak and dress herself rather interestingly, I'd put a sticker on her back that said, "I dressed myself today!" It totally took the blame off of me and people thought it was cute. I am out of those stickers and did I mention my printer crapped out yesterday? So then she came into the living room, hands on her hips, and said, "Momma? Does it weely wook siwwy if I weaw the socks wif the sandaws?" (Did you get that or should I translate? Just read it like Elmer Fudd.) I said, "Yeah, baby it's kind of silly, but there are days I wish I could dress silly, so if you want to wear them you go right ahead." She took them off.

When we pulled into the parking lot at W*M Kady and I spent 10 minutes cleaning out the van. It had gotten pretty bad. We picked up the countless empty Sonic cups, color sheets, Lab School paintings, old French fries, and all of the toys that were scattered about and even though there were still some chicken strip crumbs in the floor, it looked much better. Paul has threatened me to not ever take the van in to the shop messy. They really hate it when messy vehicles come in. He was probably mortified at the crumbs in the floor, but until he gets out there and cleans it, they're probably going to stay where they are. He's got 3000 - nah, more like 6000 - miles to clean 'em up. Or I could turn the kittens loose in there. They'd take care of any crumbs.

The babies were again SO WONDERFUL at Wal*Mart that I can't even begin to describe what great babies they are. Not a fuss, whine or cry the entire time. We did break out the Cheerios toward the end because it was awfully close to lunch and I was trying to ward off evil hungry spirits.

On the way home I noticed garage sale signs out here. Rarely do you find garage sales on rough, country roads way out here in BFE so naturally I was intrigued. By the time I figured out where it was, I realized I was about a mile from my house; I just came in the back way. I picked up a Shrek video, two Veggie Tales videos, some stick on foam letters (Abby's a craft fiend), a nap mat for Chandler and a whole bunch of styrofoam balls (I see 8 Brownies making snowmen soon) and a Hillary Duff CD (Not for me - for my eldest child) for the low, low price of $25. Not too shabby, I thought. And the Veggie Tales movies worked like a charm in bribing my youngest to take a nap this afternoon.

Now I am in the process of cleaning house while everyone's napping. Presently I'm bleaching my shower curtain. I sure hope all that mildew and slimey stuff wasn't one of the kids' science projects because it's gone now.

I feel my momentum slowly slipping away so I really should get back up and start moving again. I took a break because, dangit, cleaning SUCKS and I take as many breaks as I possibly can. Which is probably why my house is never all the way clean all the time. I clean like crazy then take a break and hmh, never start back up again. Hey, I have never claimed to be Martha Freaking Stewart.

"Shower Mildew - it's not a good thing, but no one's died yet." That could be my new slogan.

Just shoot me

I just viewed my blog and discovered I forgot the bullets in the last post which was supposed to be a BULLETED overview.

Oy.

Pretend there is a little dot in front of each one. Mmkay?

Thanks.

That is all.

Bulleted overview

Today was Day #2 of Lab School. There were soybeans in the grain table. That was such a hit that Chandler couldn't even find time to paint and Chandler ALWAYS likes to paint! Kady bawled, squalled and threw a mini tantrum when I told her we had to go home, complete with crossed arms and plopping herself down on the steps while doing her Mariah Carey impersonation and hitting a high C. Yiiiii.

Took both babies to Wal*Mart while the big kids were in school. They were magnificent ANGELS! They were precious and just babbled and cooed and made the trip a total success. I'm sure that not every trip to W*M will be that enjoyable, but I'll always have the memory of today when they're screaming and fussing and making all the little old ladies shoot me dirty looks.

My printer totally crapped out on me today. I couldn't print in any color except red. The Brownies notes about the camp-out were all in red. I wanted them to be multi-colored with clip art and stuff. Instead they were glaringly red and obnoxious and rather boring.

I did Brownies by myself tonight. I don't EVER want to do that again. I didn't realize how much I rely on Sis at the meetings. If it hadn't been for the two totally awesome Brownie Dads I had here I'd have been sunk. The kids were wound up and rowdy and by the end of it I found myself yelling. NOT how I like my meetings to go.

At the meeting, Mr. Diva hooked the trailer up to the 4-wheeler and we headed down the road to pick up rocks to build a fire ring for the camp-out. Jason, the other dad, walked ahead of us throwing the rocks into the road and the kids would get out and put them on the trailer. When we got back to the house I started putting the rocks where I wanted them and the guys told me I was stupid and doing it wrong and whaddaya know, when it was all said and done they built it JUST LIKE I said it needed to be. Ha.

When the last kid had left (well, the ones that weren't mine anyway) I sat down at the kitchen table with my head in my hands, silently berating myself for being a mean, impatient Brownie Leader. Mr. Diva walked in the front door after putting up the 4-wheeler and said, "What's wrong? Kidded out?" I nodded, but just barely. Then I took a deep breath and got over the berating and asked Sam to read me a story about Lon and Ron. They're pigs. Ron and Lon, that is.

The season premiere of Alias was tonight. I'm not sure I'm going to like this season. I think they are going to play up her pregnancy too much. But that's just me. After Alias we watched the premiere of Night Stalker. It was suspenseful, but I'm sorry, the acting was pretty bad. Sadly, I'll watch it again next week.

And now I am going to bed. Today really wore me out. I should've been in bed hours ago. But I wasn't. Eh. Story of my life.

No time to whine

Mr. Diva ran back and jumped in the shower before me, so I guess I'll use this time to whine.

*I didn't have time to whine today. Okay, so actually I had time to whine, I just chose to use that time to surf blogs instead of write on my own.

*I had to wash Sam's one pair of jeans tonight as soon as he took them off so that the child would have drawers to wear tomorrow because it seems that overnight fall has decided to visit Oklahoma. I say "visit" because it'll be 105 again in a few days, I'm sure.

*There's talk circulating of a GNO on Friday night and when I just now asked Mr. Diva if I could go he blatantly ignored me.

*I didn't get my office organized today like I wanted to because instead of using that time wisely to organize I instead surfed blogs. Oh well. It's not like the mess is going anywhere. It'll still be there when I finally get around to it.

*TaterSis didn't come over today. Gosh, I miss her when she goes off and lives her own life.

*I miss Cousin Stacey.

Okay, enough of this whining stuff. It depresses me.
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I just went outside and the cats were all sitting in various places around the carport. They all had their tails curled around their feet. I love autumn. It's flippin' COLD out there right now and I love it!! If only it would stay this way. But the weather forecast I checked today says it'll be back up in the 80's by the weekend.

The kids and I are planning on going to a Rennaissance Faire this weekend, but I hear it's supposed to rain. That's going to suck if we can't go. But Abby got her birthday money from my mother in law today and she's just dying to go shopping, so I'm sure we won't just sit around and watch it rain if we don't go to the Faire. It would be a kick-ass day if we could actually go to the Faire AND go shopping.

And now Mr. Diva is out of the shower. I know this because I can smell his cologne wafting through the house. That's one thing I really like - the way the house (and he) smells when he gets out of the shower. He says the same thing about me. Of course, I make the house smell like cherry blossoms, not Irish Spring and Obsession.

So this is what it's like to function without caffeine

The coffee pot is gurgling in the kitchen and I'm at the computer, sans caffeine. What has gotten into me? I normally stand at the coffee pot, cup in hand, watching it brew and drip, waiting for there to be enough in the pot to pour into my awaiting cup, which will then be poured into my awaiting bloodstream. The planets must be out of alignment or something. Or else I just stumbled out here inadvertently and didn't have the energy to walk back into the kitchen. I might be screwed when the coffee's done and don't have the gusto to go get any.

My babies will begin arriving any minute and I'm not dressed. And frankly, I'm not sure I have any intention of getting dressed today. It's Wednesday, we have no plans, it's supposed to rain and heck, why waste clothes when my pj's are so much more comfortable. The only thing on my agenda today is to get my GS stuff organized out here in my office and to file the stack of papers a foot high on my desk. I can so do that in my pajamas.

I see headlights coming up my driveway. That means Cute Big Baby's here and I must at least have a sip or two of coffee before they make it into the house. Whines to follow later.

Mommy tears

My Kady started Lab School today. I have very mixed emotions about it. While I am glad she had a good time, the other part of me wants to go lie on my bed and cry awhile.

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I know exactly how many snoozes I have in the mornings before I have to get up and take my shower. I lay my clothes out the night before, so when I get up I go straight to the bathroom and start the shower. I have it down to a science. I don't look at the clock when the alarm goes off, I just count the snoozes. So this morning, I was all caught up in the counting of the snoozes and when the alarm buzzed for the last time and my eyes actually opened and I looked at the clock, I discovered it was 6:25. Which, I knew it was 6:25 before I opened my eyes because, like I said, I count my snoozes and have my morning routine down pat. But upon seeing the red numbers glowing 6:25 it hit me that Paul was supposed to be at work at 7. He gets up at 5:45 and leaves at 6:15. Oops. I threw the covers off both of us and said, "GETUPYOUAREGOINGTOBELATE!!!!!" He groaned and said, "Dadgummit woman! That's the second time lately you've done this to me!" Well, if he'd get his own alarm clock he wouldn't have to worry about me making him late huh. I'm sure I got cussed while he drove 80 to work this morning, but oh well.

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Today was school picture day and Abby had requested that I get her up a little early so I could flat iron her hair. So when I got out of the shower I got dressed then went out to open their doors. The light from the bathroom was shining just right into the girls' room and when I pushed open the door Kady was sitting on a Rubbermaid box full of winter clothes and nearly scared the poop out of me. I screamed. She just fell over giggling like a loon. Abby sat straight up on the top bunk and said, "That's a really rotten way to wake someone up, Mom." Kady was still screeching with laughter and said, "I scared Momma!! I scared Momma!" and then had to run into her brother's room to tell him as well. I'm glad I'm good for a laugh first thing in the morning.

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Speaking of scaring me, last night I was going to steam some vegetables for dinner and couldn't find the lid to my handy dandy Pampered Chef micro steamer. I finally caught a glimpse of it in the back of the cabinet but because I have really short arms couldn't keep a visual on it and reach for it. So I leaned far back into the back of the cabinet and started moving my hand around so I could grab the lid. But instead of the familiar hard plastic I was expecting to touch I touched something squishy. Yes, squishy. Cold and squishy. I screamed. Loudly. And started jumping around the kitchen going "EW EW EW EW EW EW EW I JUST TOUCHED SOMETHING SQUISHY!OH EW EW EW OOHHHHHH THAT WAS SQUISHY PAUL GET IN HERE OH I'M GOING TO FAINT UGH UGH EW EW" I then went to the sink and scrubbed my hands because if it was squishy I was sure it was germy as well and while I scrubbed the skin off my hands I continued to say "EW" repeatedly. Finally, since no one was coming to rescue me in the kitchen where I was screaming and jumping about and cursing I yelled "DOES NO ONE CARE THAT I JUST TOUCHED SOMETHING SQUISHY IN THE KITCHEN CABINET????" Sam came running, going "Squishy? COOOOOOOOL!" Abby came busting out of the bathroom in a towel, shower still running. Kady came running in my direction, but stayed in the dining room and wouldn't come in the kitchen. Finally, Paul sauntered in and said, "Hmh. So you touched something 'squishy', eh? What was it?" Well, if I knew what it was I wouldn't have just screamed that I touched "something" squishy; I'd have identified it in my ranting. But instead of explaining this to him I said, "HeckifIknow, all I know is that it. was. squishy." He and Sam exchanged very smug man-looks and he said, "Well, let's just see what this squishy thing is then." And he knelt down to find the cause of my outburst. I watched his face, trying to see signs of recognition that he'd indeed found the offensive squisher and finally his face kind of lit up and he said, "Ahhh. Yep. There it is . . . " The kids moved in closer and I backed up. He pulled a green foam gripper that goes under my cutting boards out from the cabinet and flung it at me. I swear I started having chest pains. Until I realized it was a green foam gripper thing.

I stood there, chest heaving, as the foam gripper thing laid squishily at my feet. Abby sighed and rolled her eyes as she turned to go back to the shower. Sam goes "Hmh. Real scary, Mom." Paul said, "Ooh that big bad foam thing was going to take your arm off, wasn't it? It's a wonder we're all still alive." Kady, she was nearly hysterical leaning over a chair in the dining room, giggling hysterically and unable to catch her breath. I live in a house full of jerks.

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I took pictures of Kady and Chan at labschool but now the babies are awake and duty calls. Duty. That word makes Abby giggle. You can say "It's your duty" and she'll nearly collapse in a fit of hysteria. Okay, so I digressed. And now I'm going. Crazy.

Penis drama

I hope Jill doesn't strangle me for telling this story, but my gosh how could I not? It's just too good.

This morning Kady and Chandler were playing normally, dancing around, entertaining the babies when I called them into the kitchen for a drink. I got out the small their-size pitcher so they can pour their own milk now and oh, how they were tickled! But as I got the pitcher out of the fridge to show them I noticed that Chan had both hands holding onto the front of his shorts in what appeared to me to be a deathgrip. I asked him if he had to pee and with a desperate look on his face he said, "No. But Kiki, my pee-pee hurts REAL BAD!" I took this to mean that he had to pee so bad it hurt. So I ushered him down the hall quickly so there would be no accident. I said, "Do you have to pee really bad and your belly hurts?" He shook his head frantically and said, "NO! My pee-pee hurts!!" I said, "Well, go pee and we'll see if it makes you feel better." Then the kids dropped his drawers and out sprang a very swollen, angry red penis. Oy vey. I gasped, which is never good for keeping a child's panic at bay and said, "Oh. Wow. That is one unhappy penis there, buddy." He nodded his head in total agreement.

So what does one do when one encounters a penis like that on a child, but consult the backup - TaterSis to the rescue. I dragged her away from the computer to consult. She took one look at that thing and said, "Oh, that is so not normal." Okay, two opinions, both of them in agreement that something was definitely wrong in Penisville. I called the child's mom.

Now, while the vaginas outnumber the penises in the Diva house, I still have encountered my fair share of the more masculine genitalia and well, Sam's has never swelled like that. Ever. I will not comment on Mr. Diva's. We'll just leave it at that.

So after Jill and I conferred and I described exactly how her son's penis was looking we decided that it was probably irritation from maybe not getting rinsed well in the shower last night and I told her I'd put some Balmex on it and keep her posted. Oh and I also checked for a tick, but found no attached parasites to his nether region. God love his little heart, while I very gingerly smeared his little equipment with Balmex he was so brave. I know it had to have been sore. So after I had covered any affected skin with diaper rash cream I told him to kind of keep a hands off approach and not touch it too much. Ha. Tell that to a 3 year old male - "Keep your hands off your package there, buddyroe." Like that's going to happen.

By naptime it was still not right, but not worse either. I sent him off to nap and when Jill called she told me to check him when he got up from nap and call her if it was worse. So after his nap I followed him into the bathroom and when he pulled his pants down this time I not only gasped but bit my lip and tried not to scream. It was HUGE. And even angrier than before. I called his momma immediately and said, "It my son's penis looked like that I would have him at the doctor's office for sure. " That was all it took. She said, "I'll call you back" and called the doctor's office. She got him an appointment for 4 and said she was tying up things at work and would be out to get him shortly. In the meantime I got his shoes on him and fixed his hair. When we got back up to the living room to watch Dora the Explorer he said, "Kiki, what would make my pee-pee do that? Why does it hurt?" I said, "Sweetie, I'm not sure, but momma's gonna take you to the doctor and I'm sure the doctor can figure it out. But I know one thing, that is one very unhappy penis you've got there." He said, "Yeah. And it's unhealthy, too." Definitely.

Jill got here and said, "Chandler, do you mind if Momma looks at your pee-pee to see what's going on before we head off to the doctor?" Heck, he didn't care. He'd shown it off to me all day long. She pulled out the front of his shorts and immediately let them snap back into place. "OH MY GOSH! I wasn't expecting to see THAT!" It was even worse then it had been the last time I had checked it. Poor little guy. He was taking it all in stride and I've gotta give him some serious credit for his bravery and awesome attitude.

Turns out, it was a mosquito bite. He had played outside in his underwear yesterday and evidently some curious mosquito had wandered into Penisville for lunch. So now he's on an antibiotic and has to have cortisone cream applied as needed. The doctor said that because the penis is uhm . . . well, because the very nature of a penis is to expand due to the extra skin on it that when there is imflammation it will just swell and swell and swell to fill up the extra space. She said she'd actually seen worse. Oy.

Mr. Diva was incredibly sympathetic and crossed his legs unconsciously as I told the story. Jill said Chan's daddy actually kind of teared up when he saw it. When she told her boss, a man, that she needed to leave work and why, he said, "Forget the doctor's office. Take that boy straight to the ER!" Seems men are awfully sympathic when one of them has a minor penis issue, but when a woman is in labor and trying to push a head the size of a small basketball through her stubborn vagina they can stand back and say, "Eh. You ain't the first woman to give birth."

It's just a mess

My living room, that is. Since last Wednesday it has looked like the Goodwill Store exploded in my living room. Today it looks like a slightly disorganized Goodwill Store and less like an explosion has occured here.

I slept till nearly 10 this morning. I'm not sure where my real husband is and what the Pod People have done with him, but if they'd like to leave this new and improved one with me for awhile, I'd be okay with that. I had plans of making a big breakfast this morning, but by the time I dragged my lazy behind out of bed, Paul was halfway through a bowl of Cheerios. Oops. So we're having breakfast for dinner tonight instead. Works for me. I prefer my breakfasty food at night anyway. And forget about me eating a bowl of cereal first thing in the morning. I'd rather not eat than eat cereal for breakfast. There is just nothing better than a bowl of frosted flakes right before bed. I'm sure my dentist would cringe. If I had a dentist. Hmm . . . now I'm thinking that maybe I need to see a dentist . . . wow, digression at its finest today. Geesh.

This morning I stripped my bed, put on clean sheets and then made the bed. Then proceded to pile the bed with various things that have been piled in the floor and on my dresser for awhile now. Part of that piled stuff was winter clothes. So those bags went up to the Goodwill living room. And while I was in the back of the house I decided to work on the small bathroom. After Christmas last year we painted it yellow. Really. Bright. Yellow. I had no theme going on in there and had left up the butterfly curtains from when it had been Ab's bathroom. When Tater, Mom and I were in Branson in June I found a really cute Tinkerbell bathroom counter set (soap dispenser, cup and toothbrush holder), a valance and some stick-on decals that I just HAD to have. So since June they've all just sat on my dresser awaiting the day they were set free to decorate. And today was that day. The bathroom that my husband now showers and shaves in is decorated in lavender and yellow with Tinkerbell and flowers all over the wall. I just can't help but laugh at that. Strangely it doesn't seem to bother him. I think he knows that he and Sam are greatly outnumbered and the estrogen will prevail.

After I finished cleaning and decorating that bathroom I moved on to the other bathroom where I discovered that if you directly spray apple-scented Lysol on pecker-gnats (aka fruit flies) they die instantly.

I am so tired of the fruit flies. I just can't convince Paul that the nonburnable trash should go out more often than he's taking it out. Fruit flies can produce 500 offspring in a few week's time. We've been fighting the little suckers all summer. I have a mind to just call a trash service and have them start picking up our trash this week. I am tired of stinky trash and pecker gnats. I know they are fruit flies and not really pecker gnats, but when I say pecker gnats it makes Abby giggle so I say it instead. I am easily amused. Obviously, so is she.

I went through all of the winter clothes and got all of the too small clothes in one box for the resale shop. Then I took Kady's ginormous mountain of winter clothes and categorized everything. There was a pile for everything - jeans, turtlenecks, sweats, sweaters, windpants, knit pants, long-sleeves t-shirts, sweatshirts, dresses, skirts. Then after everything was in a pile I went through and took out repeats and non-essentials. There was still a lot of clothes. So I went through again and took out things that were even less essential. Still, the child has too many clothes. I filled a super huge Rubbermaid box with all of her winter clothes. Paul says I still have to downsize. *sigh* And he's right. Last year she had this many clothes and all it did was crowd Abby's side of the closet. Plus she'd end up wearing the same 8 outfits over and over. I just need to be tough and really get rid of more. If only the consignment shop lady would pay me up front for the things I take in. Then I could buy Abby and Sam some clothes with Kady's clothes now and not have to wait for her to sell things. I somehow doubt she'd go for that.

My kids have played outside all day. They smell like sheepdogs. I called Kady in to try on a pair of corduroys and she actually poofed out a cloud of dust when she sat down to put them on. Now, that's dirty. Paul finally found a headlight for his tractor and has spent the better part of the day tinkering around in the barn and on the tractor. He'd never admit it, but he's really excited about the hayride that we're doing at the campout in a few weeks. He's been worrying about that tractor and it's headlight for weeks. Now he's out bushhogging and will probably break something on the tractor and then he'll be worrying about things again.

Last night Paul brought me a story that Abby had written. She'd left it on the bar and he nearly spit tea everywhere when he read it.

"My dog Jake by Abby
I got my dog September 28, 2001. My dad got him at Wallmart. He is a good good dog. he never biten anyone but he trid to bite a plumer (plumber) who looked like he hadn't takin a bath in 3 years. Jake is a wach dog. I love Jake."

(And yeah, the guy really did look like he hadn't taken a bath in three years. *shudder*)

Creative spelling just drives me crazy. Back when I was in school we learned how to spell correctly from the beginning. Now they do this creative spelling and amazingly, it works. The kids do fantastically with it and I have yet to hear of a teacher who doesn't like it. But to a perfectionist who suffers from OCD, it just about is more than I can handle.


Last night when we were all outside, Sam and I were sitting on the 4-wheeler watching the girls ride the other 4-wheeler. All of the sudden he jumped down. I asked where he was going. He sniffed and said, "Eh. Just goin' off to mark my territory." His father has taught him so much.

The radio station, Magic 93.9, has 70's Saturday and then on Sunday they do the 80's Backtrack show. So naturally, all weekend my radio is on 93.9. Today Sam was lying in the living room floor watching me go through clothes . He sighed dramatically and said, "I can't get this radio station on my radio." I said, "Oh I bet you do. If you want, I can find it for you." He shook his head and said, "Heavens no. I'm glad I don't get it!"

Brass Bed

Has anyone who reads this blog ever actually laid someone down on or been laid down on a brass bed? Because I've noticed that it's a recurring object of love-making scenarios in songs and I'm wondering if making love on a brass bed is better than making love say, in a regular wood bed or even the couch or the backseat of a 2005 Dodge Ram. I just want to know. Yeah, it sounds awfully romantic when they say "Lay lady, lay....lay across my big brass bed" and "Come and lay your head on this big brass bed" but are brass beds all that plentiful? And have you noticed they don't just say "brass bed" but "BIG brass bed". Do they only come in large sizes?

Now that that's out of the way and y'all are thinking that I am officially certifiable we'll continue on with regular blog business.
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Tater, Paul and I watched Hitch last night. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I really did. I had heard it was really good (Cousin Stacey recommended it highly. But then again, she and I both had tremendous crushes on Will Smith, so how could she NOT recommend it to me?) and I had heard it was really bad. I'm going with adorably cute and funny and 2 hours of looking at Will Smith was just what I needed. We also rented Spanglish but haven't got around to watching it yet. With our handydandy Wardog Card at Video Giant when we rent a new release we get an older release for free so the kids are taking advantage of their free Scooby Doo Halloween movie right now and Rugrats Halloween is soon to follow.

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Tater is now an official blogger!!!
Yep. She and I were painting the witch for the ring toss and I was sick and tired of painting the stupid hat and I said, "Let's go blog" and she was like all okay with it and started washing out her brush before I could even flip the cap shut on my paint bottle. By the time I got out here she was online and fidgeting in the chair. Without looking at me she said, "I want a blog of my own." So after I scooped my jaw up off the floor and rehinged it, I helped her set up her own little spot in cyberspace.

Poor Mom. Now, in addition to worrying about me she will have to worry about her youngest child. I think she felt like if I ended up chopped up and stuffed somewhere dark and cylindrical that TaterSis would take custody of my children. Now that we're both blogging there's a good chance she'll end up with all five kids. Especially if TaterSis and I choose to go out blogging alone at night.

So stop on over at the Tater's bin and say hey, k? And leave lots of comments demanding that Mr. Tater allows her to get the 'net at home once they move into their farmette!

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I'm listening to Bohemian Rhapsody right now and I gotta say that no matter how rotten my mood is, just hearing this song and picturing Wayne and Garth and their buddies in that car singing it makes me happy.

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I slept in till 9 this morning. I was awakened several times before that and I'm pretty sure the children all had pizza and kool-ade for breakfast because when they'd come in and ask a question I'd just grunt and wave them away. I guess they took the movement of my curls under my pillow as a nod and approval to whatever they were requesting. Hey, I didn't care. Pizza for breakfast never hurt anyone.

At 9:03 Paul came bursting into the bedroom and said "If you're going to that auction it started 3 minutes ago." With only one eye open I said, "Uhhh . . . you know what? Just go on to that auction by yourself." He laughed and yanked on the sheets and said, "I thought you and the kids were going yard-saleing this morning, too." I kicked him. I needed the sleep more than the kids needed jeans. Okay, yes I realize the kids need jeans pretty bad, but I really needed the sleep.

I got up and called Mom and she informed me that the auction started at 10, not 9, so I told Paul if he'd wait a bit the kids and I would get ready and go with him. I spritzed my bed head, fluffed up my curls (Today was one of the days I actually liked the curls because they are pretty easy to retame in a hurry if necessary.), grabbed a piece of pizza and a Diet Coke, slapped on some makeup, convinced Kady that she wasn't leaving the house unless she let me brush her hair and pull it into a ponytail, grabbed my purse and we were out the door by 9:55.

Next door to the auction was a yard sale and I ended up getting Abby two dresses, Kady a Barbie princess dress-up dress and a Snuggli for $5.50. By the time we got to the auction Paul already had a number and had scoped out all he wanted. Mom had also given him instructions on what she wanted him to bid on for her. Sometimes she can get out and bid on things, but since we were there we did it for her. Oh and the minute the kids saw her they had to run and hug her and then she offered to buy them all brownies. She plays the part of Grammy well.

Paul bid on some old BF Goodrich stuff for me. Dad used to work there and Tater and I buy him old stuff from the plant when we can. I don't think Dad reads the blog and I actually hope he doesn't because what I got today is part of his Christmas. There was a box that had a roaster and some old muffin tins in it and I wanted those muffins tins to make crayons in, but they went higher than I was willing to pay so I let them go. There was a portable sewing machine that I had my eye on and bid $30 for, but it went for $60. I found out later that my mother was bidding against me because she was going to get it for me for Christmas. How sweet is she?! Then she kicked herself the rest of the day for not bidding $65 because she felt sure she'd have gotten it for that. I bid on an old sewing machine cabinet with the old foot doohickey (the word escapes me at this moment) for her and got it for $2.50 more than she wanted to pay. I got kind of carried away. The woman bidding against me wasn't about to win it, dadgummit. But the pictures Mom wanted I actually got for $2 cheaper than she wanted to spend so it all worked out.

But the main thing we were waiting around for all day was a copy of Little Black Sambo. Mom had that book when she was a kid and Meemaw used to read it to her all the time. Tater and I have been on a mission for years to get her a copy, but eBay is NOT the place to get one. They go really high there. Mom found a copy at one auction but it went for like $75 so obviously she didn't get it. She had told Paul that she'd go to $20 on it, but since I didn't get the dadgum sewing machine I was prepared to go as high as $40 for her on that book. We waited through a seemingly endless session of little old ladies fighting over turquoise and sterling jewelry until FINALLY it came time for the book. I stood right next to the auctioneer and when he started the bidding at $20 I jumped on it. He looked at me and said, "This lady knows what they go for on eBay!" and no one bid against me and I GOT IT!!!!!!!!! Later he got me off to the side and said, "You realize, you stole that book, right?" Oh I knew.

Mom was tickled pink.

So our mission completed we were done at auction central and went to pay. Mom's the cashier. She said, "You owe me $3 and the rest is mine." I handed her $23 and said, "No. Merry Christmas." Of course, she argued but I told her I'd really hate to have to kick her hind end right in front of the nice little Assembly of God ladies who run the concessions so she'd better hush. She was so happy. So was I.

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We came back here to the house and Bub brought the Tater Tots over because the Taters had their names in a drawing thing at one of the casinos. They played awhile and then we found The Country Bears on Disney so I made them get blankets and pillows and they were ordered to lie down and be quiet. Withing 5 minutes of the beginning of that ridiculous movie I was snoring and actually woke myself up snoring a few times. I managed to regain consciousness for the last 45 minutes of the movie and laughed out loud when Bonnie Raitt and Don Henley sat at the bar and watched the boy and girl bear sing. (Bonnie and Don were the singing voices for those two particular bears. Pretty funny.) Then later in the movie the bears mistake Elton John for a gardener and as they walk off one says, "You know, that gardener looked an awful lot like Elton John." and Tiny Tot said, "HAHAHAAHH!! Aunt Kiki, that WAS Elton John!" How that child knew who Elton John was I'll never know.

The rest of the afternoon was spent outside. Rita has cooled us down some, even if we're not actually going to get much of her like they were originally saying, and the temperature was actually bearable tonight. The kids rode the 4-wheeler, Paul and I sat and watched them and the dog drank my glass of sweet tea. I bet the poor guy is out there in the yard right now chasing his tail and layin' there all jittery and wondering if any of the cats have a cig he could bum. Serves him right for drinkin' my tea.

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The Taters are still at the casino and Mom is on her way out here to pick up the Tots. She's been at the casinos since she left the auction. I'm feeling totally left out. Last night when Paul went to town to pick up a lightbulb he stopped at one, too. I haven't visited a slot machine since last Monday!!

Forgive me Buffalo, for I have sinned. It's been 5 days since my last gamble.

I hope I didn't offend any Catholics out there. If I did, I apologize. But you gotta admit, that's kinda funny.

A few questions

Will I ever get to bed before midnight again? I really enjoyed that day a few weeks ago that I was in bed by 9:30, but it hasn't happened again.

Will my living room ever NOT smell like the dog poo my two daughters, while in their father's watchful care, traipsed through in the yard and then felt it necessary to bring the stench into the house?

Why can my husband not just keep an eye on them and keep them from stepping in dog poo? They never step in dog poo when I'm watching them because I actually watch them and say "LOOK OUT! YOU'RE ABOUT TO STEP IN DOG POO!"

Will my foot ever stop hurting? It's been hurting since June. I'm really tired of it.

Why do allergies have to even exist? They make my throat hurt.

Will life slow down?

Do I really want it to?

Am I insane?

Why is my face so broke out right now? I'm not PMSing or anything!

How in the WORLD did four little boys manage to DESTROY my toyroom today? I am thinking we should use little boys as weapons of mass destruction. The enemy will never know what hit them until it's all over and they're standing in the middle of a field knee-deep in Hot Wheels and Nerf darts.

Why do I want to find a sitter for my kids and go do something grown-up this weekend yet at the same time I'd love nothing more than to stay in my pj's all weekend and watch sappy chick movie after 80's movie after Disney movie?

When is enough really enough?

Does parenting ever get easier?

Does being a grownup get any more fun than this?

Why is it that even when life is gunky and I'm cranky that just rocking one of the babies makes it all seem better?

Do the people who are bound and determined to stay in Galveston really think they're making the wisest decision?

Why did God choose to bless me with such an amazing family? I don't deserve them. They amaze me daily.

Why can't Paul just put the mayonnaisey knife in the dishwasher? Heck, I'd even settle for the sink if he just wouldn't leave it on the counter top!

If a train leaves New York at 3pm traveling 55 mph and a bus leaves San Francisco at 4:30pm traveling 62 mph, which one will get to the indian casino faster?

Who would I talk to about making an "-ine" food group? You know - nicotine, caffeine . . . uh, those are the only two -ines I can think of right now.

How much wood can a wood chuck chuck?

Will my kids ever look back at the music of this decade and think "Man, that was some awesome music back then!"? Because the music of the 70's, 80's and 90's is awesome. I'm not sure the music of 2005 can compare in years to come.

What am I going to fix for dinner tomorrow night?

Who was the person that told Enrique Iglesias he was hot when he makes those ridiculous faces on those cologne commercials?