Wanted: LOTR Expert

Wanted to hire for a week or two: Someone with intimate knowledge of the entire Lord of the Rings world both literary & film versions. Must have in depth knowledge of the inner workings of the minds of both J.R.R. Tolkien & Peter Jackson.

Job Description: To sit with my children & watch the movies over & over again while answering their every question no matter how obvious or obscure no matter how many times they may ask the same question.

I kid you not, BabyGirl alone must have asked no less than 200 questions tonight while watching Return of the King. That's not counting the 75 questions a piece shot out by her brothers before their bedtime came around.

"Why does Smeagol hate Sam?"
"Why doesn't Frodo believe Sam about Smeagol being bad?"
"I thought Smeagol told Gollum to go away & never come back. Why is he back?"
"Why is it so hard for Frodo to walk?"
"Why does Frodo have to go with the elves?"
"Why are the elves tall? I thought they were supposed to be short."
"Why are the Hobbits' pants so short?"
"Is the king of the ghost army the same dead guy who tried to pull Frodo down into the swamp?"
"Sam carried the ring for a while. Why isn't he going with the Elves?"
"Doesn't Frodo have a life with Sam in the Shire? Why does he have to go with the Elves?"
"Why are Gollums eyes so big?"
"Why is Gandalf white now? I thought the white wizard was bad."
"Why won't Gollum eat the bread?"
"Wouldn't they die if they got that close to the lava?"
"Is Frodo just dreaming or is Gladriel really there?"
"Why wasn't Aragon already king?"
"Why can't a man kill the Nazgul?"
"Why do they call Peregrin 'Pippin'?"
"Why is that guy trying to set his son on fire? Can't he tell he's still alive?"
"What is that giant red eye thing?"
"I thought Isildur killed Sauron. How can he be coming back?"
"How old is that guy playing Frodo?"
"Do you think he's really a pretty happy guy in real life or is he really sad like Frodo at the end?"

Understand my problem? And that's only a portion of what was asked tonight...and only while watching the last movie. I thought I had a decent working knowledge of the story having seen the movies a few times, the cartoons many times, and having read the books a time or two...but no. My kids need to know what size shoes Hobbits would wear if Hobbits ever took up shoe wearing. Next time we watch them I'm going to take a nerve pill first & just make crap up as I go along.

When blessings become a curse.

We live in a very wealthy nation. VERY wealthy. Even the poor here are better off than most of the people living in this world. Technically I'd say Husband and I fit into the "at or below poverty level" range...which I think is ridiculous considering we own our own home, we have 2 decent vehicles, we've never had trouble putting food on our table or clothing our children. But since we have 6 people living off one income (that is fairly low compared to the national average), we're considered poor. Sure we have to watch what we spend, but who doesn't?

Today I began my summer purge. Every now & then (normally at the beginning of summer and near Christmas) I get in a "throw it all away" mood. Today the object of my obsession was magazines. After tossing out at least 2 years of Family Circles, I vow to avoid magazine subscriptions from here on out.

But you want to know a secret? I feel horribly guilty throwing out magazines. Busha gave me 15 + year old copies of Reminisce Magazine. I read them, but couldn't bear to part with them. I had 14 year old copies of Taste of Home that I haven't touched since shortly after they came in the mail (except to pack them up & move them from one house to the next). I had back issues of Family Fun from when B.B. was tiny. Then there's the years & years of Family Circle I've been hoarding. And I couldn't bring myself to toss any of them.

I think I feel guilty throwing out anything still useful because there are so may people out there who would love to have what I'm considering garbage. I could go through each issue and tear out the recipes I want. I could organize a binder full of craft ideas for later. I could save what I think is useful, but honestly, if I haven't done it by now, I'm not going to do it at all.

So today, it all went out. I think I heard my kitchen cabinet sigh with relief as I unloaded close to 40 pounds of old magazines. I'd like to brag that I now have cabinet space sitting empty, but the truth of the matter is, it was pretty well filled up instantly by odd items living on my counter tops.

Maybe this will make me think twice before dragging more magazines home....but the pictures are so pretty. * Sigh *

And don't even get me started on the stack of trashy romance novels I tossed out today (nope, I hadn't even read them....they were hand-me-downs). Regardless of the fact that I detest them, they were books- the printed word- nearly sacred....all except for the griding and moaning and total lack of plots.


If you like the above book cover, you simply must check these out.

Anybody know a good tailor?

Since Bubba & Beck got married in September, I've put on a bit of weight.

This isn't really a bad thing considering I've hovered in the mid to upper ninety pound range most of my life. This is only the second, non-pregnant/breastfeeding time I've ever broken 100 pounds. Someday I may even weigh enough to give blood. My only issue is that all my extra weight lives in my hips & rear end. Princess is having similar issues. QM says we can thank Busha's family for that one.

This means none of my pants fit. It's hard to stick with the Hot Mama revolution when the only thing you can get into are flannel pajama pants & velour track suits.

So I've been perusing the clothing department at Wal-Mart recently. I really don't shop anywhere else. Shopping anywhere else would involve driving a distance of more than 15 miles & spending more than $8 on any one article of clothing. When you've been shopping for a family of 6 for 2 1/2 years on a single income, it's hard to purchase anything that isn't on clearance.

Jeans became a must have recently since I'm down to one pair I can button & still breath in. I picked up a pair (on sale)that fit nicely only to have the buttons come apart in the first wash. They went back.

My next shopping trip was not as easy. I spent 20 minutes looking for something, anything in my size. Apparently there had been a run on size 5 jeans not designed by Miley Cyrus (I did try on 1 pair of her skinny jeans in a size 5. I think Miss Cyrus needs a reality check because her size 5's fit more like a 2). Eventually I ended up with one pair of size 4's that were cut a bit fuller than their counterparts & fit nicely. Being on sale, they made me happy.

I learned something. To shop at Wal-Mart, you must either be 14 years old & obsessed with the bad fashion of 1984, or you must be 84 years old and need your pants to have elastic waistbands. If you wear plus sizes, the clothes are much classier....but you get odd stares when you weigh 108 pounds & you're admiring size 24 jeans.

I guess this means I'll have to not only shop somewhere outside my comfort zone but off the non-sale racks. What I wouldn't give for a Target within 30 miles of me!

Family Movie Night Shall Not Be Thwarted.

Unfortunately, my mother only has the plain old regular flu. Pop on over to her blog & read all about it.

BabyGirl is holding up the show tonight. I know being fashionably late is "the thing" in some circles, but it just doesn't work on Family Movie Night. Especially when there's a living room picnic of apple slices, orange sections, grapes, assorted peanut butter toast sticks, and pop corn being planned, and Ice Age 3-Dawn of the Dinosaurs being shown.

She came home with enough homework to keep her busy for an hour, but has lovingly stretched it out as far as possible complete with screaming fits & tantrums & shouts of, "I Don't Get It," "That Doesn't Make Any Sense," and the ever popular, "You Don't Know What You're Talking About," interspersed with brief jaunts into the living room to check out what's going on in the world of Wallace & Gromit....much to the chagrin of her mother & younger siblings.

We're all bathed, jammied, and waiting on her. The natives are getting restless & the bitter aroma of brewing revolt is heavy in the air. Bitsy just gave up & fell asleep on the carpet. Thank goodness I just vacuumed.

WHA?!?

Much to my amazement, Uncle E announced Sunday that this Saturday is the local town chowder. That cannot possibly be because the chowder marks the end of the summer. Chowder, then VBS, then school starts. It's the same every year. And it cannot possibly be that time, because summer only just began. Not enough time has been spent in the pool, at the park, or eating popsicles. School supplies have not even been thought of. Sure, I saw the shelves fully stocked at Wal-Mart, but my thoughts turned to the over eagerness of the retail industry that starts decorating for Christmas in October. The same is true of school supplies. They're being sold when everyone should be at church camp.

This also means I am well behind in scheduling appointments. We've had to switch dentists (yet again) to find someone who will accept both of our insurances. The 2 older kids, Husband, and I all need new glasses...yet another issue to iron out with an insurance. Oh, and then there are the check-ups I failed to schedule after birthdays this year. And to top it all off, B.B. will need his last round of vaccines before starting school. I am so unprepared it's not funny.

So, what fun things do you have planned to end your summer? We're ending ours with an endless parade of doctors appointments & a tonsillectomy. Fun for all!

So, FarmWife, what have you been up to today?

Um yeah. Stuff. Too much stuff.

Bucka has been in the hospital since Tuesday. I've been stopping by to take care of the Hounds of the Baskervilles (aka: Busha's toy/teacup poodles, Pete & Pepper) the past few days. It's an adventure. Today Bitsy decided to let them out to play & escape herself while I was washing dishes. That was not fun. Once granted an out, Pepper likes to bolt & where Pepper goes, Pete is sure to follow. Bitsy got a swat on the bottom for leaving the house without Mama & the pups got chased down, snagged, carried in, and washed up...I am no fun at all. Just ask them. They'll tell you.

Then the little ones & I ran in to pick up BabyGirl & #1 Son from school. BabyGirl had to have her stitches taken out at the doctor's at 4 o'clock. Husband goes to work at 2:20 & my other sitter (RL, Uncle E's oldest daughter) had to work, so I took everyone with me.

Today I realized Wednesday is our field trip to the zoo & my sneakers are pathetic (note to self: do not buy Danskins shoes at Wal-Mart & expect good things from them), so it was off to the shoe store with all 4 FarmHands in tow. Yeah, that was fun. Fun like a stomach pump. I hate sneaker shopping to begin with. Anything but sneakers. I know diddly squat about them & they're so frickin' expensive (remember, I just paid $5.95 for a super cute pair of heels last month). And throw 4 bored, small children in the mix & it becomes an exercise in torture. But, I came home with a pair of Nike's that I think I may love. They came with "anatomical arch supports" that I have no clue how to use...but I'll figure it out.

Wal-Mart has 5,000 copies of Twilight, New Moon, and Breaking Dawn, but zero copies of Eclipse. Eclipse is the book I need to read next in the "saga." I'm a bit frustrated. I'm almost finished with my second reading of New Moon since getting it Sunday night. (Blogger needs an underline function on the post page because that much html is irritating.)

While at Wal-Mart I managed to do the grocery shopping (I think...it's hard to tell when most of my time was spent saying, "B.B., please don't touch that. #1 Son, come on, we're done in this aisle. BabyGirl, stop bossing the boys. Bitsy, I cannot hold you, stay in the cart. No, we're not buying toys. OK, yes, we are buying a toy, but it's not for any of you. No, you cannot buy a $48 race track for _________'s birthday party. Because he's a boy in your class, a friend, not a blood relative. Put the candy back on the shelf. Do not put your face on the freezer door! Why would you do that? What? You have to go again? You just went! OK, who else has to go? This is your final chance. I'm not coming back to this bathroom again. No, we're not getting The Incredible Hulk on Blu-ray. Because I have too many other things on my list today. Where is that stinking list? Crap. Oh, a bra for $3! I need a new bra.").

Now I'm tired & oddly sad. I don't know why, but I am. I know why I'm tired...didn't you read that last paragraph? I just don't know why I'm sad. Maybe it all goes back to that two days in a hotel dream I've been harboring. Maybe I need a good cry? Maybe I'll go crawl in the bath & do just that. Or maybe I'll just put on my PJ's and tuck in to see if Eward & Bella are going to live happily ever after.

Second Grade Homework Drives Mother to Drink. Story at Eleven.

Never in my life have I wanted to abuse some substance other than caffeine or chocolate as badly as I do now.

BabyGirl brought home 4 pages of homework & a 5th page she was writing a summary of a story on. We started working as soon as backpacks were emptied & hung up, about 4:15 this afternoon. She just now finished (note the time stamp at the bottom).

Every letter, every number, every period & comma were drug out of her little body by sheer force of my will. Staying calm was not easy nor was it always possible. Everything I said was debated. Every suggestion I made was dismissed. Every new problem brought fresh angst. She had the weight of the world (& a giant chip) on her seven year old shoulders.

Half way through our marathon of disagreements I thanked the Lord that I did not choose to home school this child.

Now, if I can only get them all fed, bathed, and in bed without suffering a nervous breakdown, it will be an act of that same Lord.

Calgon Kahlua, take me away.

Ride 'em, Cowgirl! Yeah, right.

OK, so the story goes something like this:

Husband & the three oldest FarmHands were playing outside. Bitsy was napping. I was baking cupcakes as a special treat for us & getting ready to start working on a certain little bug's baby blanket from his favorite second cousin. The windows were wide open. There was a House marathon on USA. Life was good.

I heard Husband call my name from the cow lot. When I looked out the back door, #1 Son was sitting astride the horse, thrilled to be there. "Come lead the horse so I can hold on to #1 Son," my beloved called. I slipped on my flip-flops (yes, I know....not with a horse), ran out, and helped them make one trip around the pen. Then I headed back in to get the cupcakes out of the oven & put on my mud boots (flip-flops & horse poop don't go well together).

BabyGirl & B.B. took their turns, and then it was mine. I haven't been on Lightning in more than 2 years. She was doing very well. I was not concerned. Husband gave me a boost (she's a tall quarterhorse), I tucked my boots into the stirrups, adjusted my weight so it was on my feet & not my bottom, and took a good grip on the pommel of the saddle. Husband took the lead rope & we headed off. Things were good for a few yards, then BabyGirl started yelling for me. She wasn't feeling good & wanted to go inside. I raised my hand to tell her to hold on a minute and we made the first turn in the pen. BabyGirl started shouting again & her dad quietly told her to hush & I'd be there in a minute. I doubt she heard him. She hollered a third time & I raised my hand again to tell her to wait.....and that's when things went wrong.

Lightning got spooked & jerked her head back. Husband tried to calm her & kept a firm grip on the rope. She slammed into the woven wire fencing next to us & I leaned away from it to keep from getting barbed wire in my face (this resulted in the bruising to my right hip & thigh). Then she jerked away from the fence & spun out in the field. Husband kept wrestling to keep her under control & I kept holding on for dear life. I'm not really sure what happened next, but the result was my face making direct contact with the hard packed ground before any other part of my body did.

As soon as I was off, Husband jerked the horse away from me & pulled her to the post to tie her up. He yelled for me to lay still & he'd come get me. I couldn't have gotten up if I wanted to. I couldn't take a deep breath. I couldn't roll over. All I did was lay there in the tall grass & cry, "Oh God. Please Lord. Jesus. Oh please God. Sweet Jesus. Dear Lord," over & over & over.

Husband got to me, picked me up, and carried me up to the house. I was beginning to breath easier, but my left arm hurt like the dickens just below my elbow as did my right hip & thigh & the right side of my face...and don't even get me started on my head. Oh, and I was picking grass out from between my teeth. Really.

I went inside while Husband went to calm the boys down (who watched the entire fiasco) and take the saddle off the horse. When he was done, I went out to tell him about my arm. He said to call his mom & see if she'd come sit with the kids while he took me to the ER. When I couldn't get through to her, I called Uncle E's. RL answered & I asked if she'd take me. She grabbed Beffie, jumped in her truck & high tailed it to our house.

On the way to the ER I could follow the conversation at hand fairly well, but couldn't back track to figure out how we got to this point in the conversation. And if anyone quit talking, I was lost.

At the ER, the doctor (who happened to be one we'd had before that I loved...although I know Needlefinger's Mom does not like him), checked me out & said he didn't think anything was broken, but he wanted an x-ray just in case.

The x-ray tech had the same name as BabyGirl. While she was setting up the x-ray I said, "I'm nursing. Will this be OK." She said, "You're in nursing?" I said, "No. I'm nursing my baby. This won't hurt anything will it?" She said no, it wasn't an issue & asked how old Bitsy was. For the life of me I couldn't tell her. I think I said, "She's either 14 months or 17 months, but I'm not sure because I can't count right now." When I told Husband the story he says I said either 11 months or 17 months...I was still pretty loopy.

The doctor came back in & said nothing was broken and I probably had a mild concussion (no vomiting or anything) but he wanted me to get a tetanus shot because of the scrapes on my face. He sent me home with my arm in a sling & a prescription that reads:

To whom it may concern:
Husband must do all house-hold domestic chores for next 4-5 years.

I wish I could tell you the conversation that led up to the script because it was funny...but alas, that was one that's been lost in the fog.

RL & Beffie brought me back home & I crashed out in the arm chair. I called to tell QM my adventures, and at some point I was gesturing to her over the phone & she laughed at me. I had to ask her what was so funny & she said, "I can't see what you're doing." I was so confused.

My right hip hurts a bit. My right thigh hurts a bit more. My left arm is pretty sore & I've been alternating moving it around & tucking it in the sling. The right side of my face is covered in broken capillaries & a few small scrapes. The left side of my lip is busted & the inside of my mouth (where the top lip meets the gums) hurts. My right temple has a small lump & is VERY tender. I can't open my mouth too wide because it makes my temple hurt. Tylenol, Ice, and wake every 3 hours were my instructions.

Husband woke me up & asked me inappropriate questions in the night....well, inappropriate to ask your wife who's suffering from head trauma anyway. This morning I had to ask him what he'd said. I only remember thinking, "Why is he asking me this? Is he stupid?" but couldn't remember the questions. I'm pretty sure I told him he was stupid & asked what the hell was wrong with him...yeah, I was out of it. This morning I told him, "You were supposed to ask me things like what's my name, how many kids do we have, what year is it...not that!" But this is the same man who said, "I would have jumped off the horse." To which I think I replied, "Shut up."

Bitsy took care of the rest of the wakings for us. Husband moved to the couch. BabyGirl vomited in the night. She & B.B. were both up by shortly after 5 am wanting ibuprofen. B.B. is already on antibiotics but I have to wait for the doctor's office to open Monday to call in & get BabyGirl some. I was going to give her #1 Son's dosage since they're the same weight, but I can't remember what antibiotic she was on that sent us to the ER with her covered in hives. Why I didn't write it down is beyond me. Oh well.

So, two out of four kids sick. One mother laid up with horse related injuries & lingering sinus issues...and intestinal problems stemming from her antibiotics. One five year old completely over his illness and a toddler who doesn't understand why mom can't tote her around & pick her up every 90 seconds. A very messy kitchen.

Well, that's my story & I'm sticking to it....at least until RL & Beffie tell me different. I wonder what all I said to them yesterday. Those girls may have gotten a real education.....

I'm off to put my sling back on & kick back in the arm chair while my Tylenol does little to ease my head ache. Enjoy your Sunday & stay off the horse! I'm going to eat a chocolate cupcake for breakfast.

Today's To-Do List

• make lunch (chicken & noodles, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans)
• wash the 8,000 dishes it takes to make lunch & what's left over from the cookies I baked last night
• fold & put away 8,000 clean towels
• vacuum the entire house
• mop kitchen floor
• wash down all counter tops
• scrub bathrooms
• strip beds, wash sheets, remake beds
• dust house

And in between all this I have to entertain/feed/discipline/chase/play with/sooth four kids.

Check back later for the room number of the mental hospital I'll be checked in to.

Blankets, Allegies, And Coyotes! Oh My!

I finished the blanket, three burp cloths, and taggy for Scottie & May's baby shower (all modeled by Baby Rose. She's Bitsy's birthday present from B.B. He named her, "A'cause I buyed it for her!"). Now if only my kids would get well enough that I can go....guess we'll find out on Saturday. If they're still ill, and Husband has to work, I'll be housebound. Crumb (that's my new word...well, not really new but I've only recently realized just how much I use it).

I really need to start going to bed at a decent time. Last night I stayed up until 11:30. The night before that I didn't turn in until after midnight. It wouldn't be a big deal if my kids weren't waking me up a minimum of 6 times a night & getting up for good around 7 am. Makes for one cranky, sleep deprived, zombie of a mom.

My allergies are in high gear this morning. I'm waiting impatiently for my Claritin to kick in. Normally I'd say ragweed or milk weed is making me itchy & sneezy, but Inkling has currently brought to my attention that it may in fact be a laundry allergy. There is a basket of blue jeans needing to be put up in my living room & I did fold & put away 3 loads of towels last night & I have to strip the beds today....so yes, it's definitely the laundry.

I keep forgetting to tell you all that we found out what happened to my diamond. It's an interesting story...I only wish I knew all of it, but we only have bits & pieces at the moment. Apparently bad coyotes "stoled" it. At least that's what B.B. said. It's either that or, "A bad guy what didn't have a girl to marry stoled it. Then he got in his car & he went & he got there and he founded a girl to marry. And the girl what he's going to get married to was in the car & now they're married." At least it went to good use.

Before you start thinking B.B. is making up stories to cover his own crime, let me assure you, he makes up stories about EVERYTHING. After Bucka had his bypass last December, B.B. informed me a bad skunk scratched Bucka all up & that's why he had to get all those stitches. Every time we went over there, B.B. had to check Bucka's skunk scratches. Maybe he'll be a writer when he grows up....no, wait, I forgot. He's not going to grow up because he doesn't want me to die. At least until he's good & mad at me. Then he threatens to grow up so I will die. Can you feel the love?

I will not eat my young, I will not eat my young, I will not eat my young.

Even though they:

1. trashed BabyGirl's room.
2. dumped the entire fidget box on her carpet.
3. dumped an entire bag of pretzels on her bed.
4. crushed 1/4 of the bag of pretzels into the carpet.
5. will not quit arguing about who's fault it is & JUST. CLEAN. IT. UP!
6. will not quit fighting just to be fighting.
7. wrote on the wall under BabyGirl's desk (B.B.).
8. will not clean up the mess.
9. will not stop crying every time I tell them to clean up the mess.
10. will not stop yelling, "It's not fair! I didn't do any of it!" even though they all had a hand in it.

The War of the Windows

It's hot. It's about time. Husband thinks I'm crazy, but I know around the first of May it starts getting hot around here. I spend most of the month of May fighting my urge to kick on the AC. I'm morally opposed to AC before June (OK, so not really....I just like the lower electric bill that comes with no AC). Last year I gave up early. I was VERY pregnant with Bitsy & flat tired of laying in the recliner sweating. This year it's been a total non-issue.

Last night the window wars started. Most families have thermostat wars. Not us. Well, we do occasionally...like when it's 50 outside & I want to kick on the heat long enough to take the chill out of the air & Husband's yelling something about it being 70 during the day....blah, blah, blah. But those wars are few & infrequent. The real battles rages over windows.

When we got married, it was November. There was no need to open windows. The heat was running & we were blissfully in love. By Spring we were still blissful, but it was getting warm. One day I went to open the windows & discovered I couldn't. When I asked FarmBoy about it, he said, "Oh, they're painted shut." OK, how long have they been painted shut? "Oh, probably 3 or 4 years." You mean this house hasn't been opened up in 3 to 4 years?!?! No wonder.....end of bliss.

I was cleaning up my pile of stuff in one of the spare rooms (Yeah, LONG before kids) & my allergies when haywire. The dust was horrible & I needed to open a window & let in some fresh air. No doing. I finally talked a reluctant FarmBoy into grudgingly cutting through the paint. In the end we could open all but one window (no screen).

That summer we got new windows & I had them all open all the time (I miss those windows). Husband finally saw the wisdom in opening windows as opposed to going straight from heat to AC. We were blissfully happy once again....for a while.

Our problem arises with the setting of the sun. Once it's dark, Husband closes windows. All of them. Doesn't matter that it's 80 degrees in the house. It makes me crazy. I follow along behind him opening them back up. It's a vicious cycle. Last night I was arguing with BabyGirl about going to bed (she was too hot to sleep...grant it, this is the child who'd be "too hot" to sleep if it was 43 in her room at night). I opened her window & put up the fan. When I went back in the living room, Husband had closed the atrium door. The only thing keeping the cross breeze flowing beautifully through our living room.

The baby was sweating. I was sweating. I went in the bedroom to get her a onesie to sleep in, only to find he'd closed our bedroom window too! I opened them all back up & they stayed that way until after I went to bed. I wouldn't be surprised to discover he was grumbling in his head at me...I know I was at him. When he came in to go to bed, he shut the window. By that time I was fast asleep, so I didn't much care. He doesn't like to sleep with windows open. If the dogs are quiet, it doesn't bother me at all. I like listening to the birds & frogs & such...maybe that's how JG (Inkling & my cousin) got to be an expert on all things frogs & birds.

But I digress...This morning when I got up it was already 85 outside. The windows are all open (except in the bedroom where he's still sleeping). The war will last until we finally cave in & turn on the AC. Then the bliss can return once again.

The funny thing is, one day his mom & SIL were talking about running their furnaces in the morning & their AC in the afternoon when Husband chimed in, "Why don't you open your windows? That's just dumb." Until I came along, he did the same thing. Maybe that's why he has window issues...he was raised with them. Don't even get me started on opening curtains (I don't think he ever did that before I came along either). Some kind of window paranoia? Flash backs from living without AC when we were children (do you remember when AC was a luxury? The window unit was only turned on when it was the hottest of the hot)? Don't answer those. I'm just ranting.

I finally convinced Stupid Evil Blogger to load the pictures of my darling peonies. Aren't they fabulous? I wish you could smell them. The funny thing is, they're all the same color...or close to. I'm pretty sure when I planted them (4-5 years ago) they were all different. One was supposed to be white, one baby pink (a Sarah Bernhardt), and one almost burgundy. How does that happen? Cross pollination? And I think they look especially sweet when mixed with the daisies I picked on my walk Wednesday. Nature's showiest & simplest living together in my kitchen. I'm a happy FarmWife...all except for the window thing.

Just for me?

Oh My Goodness!! The New Kids on the Block kick off their world tour on my birthday!! It's fate. It's also Jordan's birthday. Which is the sole reason he was my favorite New Kid. *Sigh* They planned it that way, didn't they?

Good day. Played outside. Played at the Playground. Played at Uncle E's. Saw Beffie's Prom pictures. Husband ordered a tiller for himself (he hates borrowing). Plan on watching House tonight & possibly Stardust. Found out QM & Daddy got me a ROCKIN' birthday present...but I'm not telling you what it is...unless you ask nicely.

Speaking of asking nicely, it's that day again. Ask FarmWife. So, waddayawannaknow?

I have a question. How do you keep your house clean in the summer? I cannot bear to keep the FarmHands inside in the summer. I cannot let them run loose outside unsupervised for more than 30 minutes (and even that is not truly unsupervised time). While I'm outside with them, my house seems to fall apart at the seams. Maybe if I cleaned it up & kept it that way, I'd be OK....Oy.

Mama said there'd be days like this

While nothing exceptional has happened today, I feel the nearly overwhelming desire to go back to bed & stay there until Saturday. Could that be why when the baby was napping & the boys watching Nick Jr & then Spongebob (Please, do not lecture me) I crashed out on the couch for nearly 2 1/2 hours? Before you get all excited for me, my nap was interrupted no less than 10 times....fighting, inappropriate programming needing changed (much to the boys' chagrin...but I cannot deal with Fairly Odd Parents), 2 quarts of iced tea nearly dumped on me (B.B. does not get the, "If you want a drink, ASK ME, I'll get it" thing), dog whining to go out, & very strange dreams about napping on the couch & having strange dreams. When I fully woke up, Husband was at work, #1 Son still watching cartoons, and B.B. had gone to bed for his own nap!!

Since his nap ended, B.B. has spent most of his time crying about something. I have mixed emotions about that boy & naps. On one hand, he can get very cranky & seemingly need one. But once he's awake, he's not always happier than when he laid down. And come bed time, he's on his second wind & will not turn in before 9:30. I do not like that.

I am still in my pj's (it's 4:30 in the afternoon). Don't judge me. Hot Mama Revolution be damned today.

I have a ginormous pile of dishes awaiting my attention. For some reason I have no problem getting the general table ware done, but the pots & pans loom over me like a food encrusted Mt.Everest. I have to get them done today or there will be no cooking tomorrow. Ugh. And I have to thaw out a rabbit so we can have chicken-pot-pie tomorrow (yes, you read that right. I just can't bring myself to call it Rabbit-pot-pie).

Just so you don't think I'm a complete slacker in all things domestic, in the past 24 hours I've:

• vacuumed the entire house with my new vacuum (I thought I'd found a fatal flaw in it's design, but it turned out to be operator error...you must be smarter than your vacuum). It is still picking up copious amounts of dust but this time I only had to dump the dirt cup twice. I tried Kork's 7 swipes over the same spot thing...hence the dust. If I follow her formula for vacuuming one day a week for each person/pet in your home, I'd need an extra day added to the week.
• picked up all the stray toys (and that is a monumental task around here)
• supervised the boys room cleaning (that is, I spent 2 hours telling them to clean their rooms & eventually stood over them & directed every movement of their little hands while they cried, "If you just leave, we'll clean up!" Fat chance, fellas.)
• made more violet jelly (see yesterday's picture)
• changed #1 Son's bandage (this shouldn't be such a task, but it was)
• washed, folded, and put away all but one load of laundry
• scrubbed both bathrooms
• unloaded & re-loaded the dishwasher
• added about 50 books to my Shelfari shelf (OK, so that wasn't exactly a chore)
• taped (last night) & watched (this morning) UFC with Husband (yes, that is a chore)
• went walking
• made pancakes for breakfast today
• made husband's nasty potato soup for lunch
• hung up on 2-3 telemarketers (I'm not rude, I simply hang up. I'm on the no call list for a reason. We do not give money to charity over the phone, I do not discuss my credit cards over the phone, and if the "Fraternal order of police" call me one more time, I'm calling the actual police).
• wrestled BabyGirl into her clothing & sent her to school in full melt-down (see yesterday's post...."It's not fair...").
• Argued with her for 2 hours over bed time last night. I guess she got up on the wrong side of the bed & went back to bed the same way.

That about covers it.

Rain is coming. Maybe it will wash away my blahs. Most likely it will just make my yard a muddy swamp just in time for the weekend.

Saturday we're going on the great shoe hunt. Husband needs new sneakers. BabyGirl needs new Crocs (the purple Mary Janes QM gave her for her b-day last year have been worn to pieces). This means the boys will probably also get new sandals. I will try on high heels while balancing Bitsy on my hip & wish I had some where to wear them. I will look at little girl shoes & wish BabyGirl would wear them & Bitsy's feet would grow enough to wear them (she can still wear 0-3 month Old Navy sneakers...she'll be 10 months on Saturday).

Until then, my house has been over run by wolves & little pigs. Oh the noise, noise, noise, noise.....

I'm on a jelly roll.

HA! I am so funny! Really, aren't you just amazed at how funny I am?

I have learned things recently. Want to know what they are? Too bad. I'm going to tell you anyway.

• Young calves are too cute for color TV. When they grow up they are much less cute.
  


• Any signs of life in my yard are enough to make me run around with my camera capturing every sprout & blossom. Now if only they could inspire me to weed & mulch things. I think I may be A Wandering Heart's HOA's worst nightmare!


• When he gets mad, B.B. likes to throw things (OK, so this isn't a new thing. It's been going on for a while. It is not met with great enthusiasim from his parents).



• I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Dermabond!!!! It comes in very handy when your three year old throws a glass (Really!) at his brother in the bath tub lacerating said brother's shoulder. SO much easier than stitches & the shots that go with them.



• Great Uncle Gick is really good at calming down & distracting brother while Doc glues him back together.



• B.B. is terrified of his brother's blood. Like won't-come-near-him-in-the-shower-for-fear-of-being-bled-on terrified.



• Glass shards are not easy to clean out of a bath tub full of water. They are also not easy to clean off a wet boy.



• If one child gets hurt, the other 3 must have melt-downs....& the dog must go crazy....and the pizza must burn....and mom must yell, "EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP FOR 3 SECONDS!!"



• Busha is a great emergency baby sitter.



• RL & J can be at my house in under 3 minutes if the need arises (like the kids melting down, the dog going crazy, the pizza burning).



• A sucker & a Happy Meal make all owies better.



• "It's NOT FAIR that #1 Son got a Happy Meal & didn't have to go to school today!"



• BabyGirl may just lacerate her own shoulder to get chicken nuggets & a day to play hookey.



• McDonald's American Idol toys will make you want to toss them out a 4th story window within minutes of coming out of the plastic bag.



• Once I start making jelly with wild flowers, I may never stop. When do roses bloom around here?! What other flowers are edible...dandelion jelly doesn't really sound appealing.



• Bad things really do come in threes. 1. Earthquakes (many, many earth quakes). 2. Vomiting & fever in the night. 3. Deep cuts & a trip to the ER.


• I need a vacation that does not include giant concrete dinosaurs.

Yes, last night was super fun. Can we do it again, please?

Humble Pie leftovers for lunch

Yeah, you remember how I was mouthing about my Husband's inability to bring home exactly what I've put on a shopping list? I should have kept my mouth shut.

We called MIL yesterday to see if she could sit with the older three kids so Husband and I could make a grocery run. She agreed & off we went.

I bought all the groceries & assundry items we needed & we headed home. The trip was uneventful.

As I was making dinner last night (chili & grilled cheese per B.B.'s request) I discovered I had purchased a giant can of whole tomatoes instead of the tomato sauce I meant to buy. Crap. But being the ultra-flexible and completely brilliant woman that I am, I tossed them into the blender, hit "liquify" and voila! Tomato sauce. The Chili was saved.

Now #1 Son won't touch chili or grilled cheese with a 10 foot pole, so I agreed to make him mac & cheese (please don't lecture me about enabling my picky eater. The child will not eat for days at a time if he's not closely watched. I'd rather fix an extra dish at dinner than have him go all Gandhi on me). That's when I discovered I didn't buy any mac & cheese. Oy. I thought I had two more boxes in the pantry, but no. Not a one. I did pick up Shells & Cheese, so I was temporarily saved.

As the drama was unfolding in the kitchen, Husband pipes in from the living room, "If this is what you were going to do, I could have done the shopping on my own." To which I graciously responded, "Yeah, and we'd have 1 can of tomato sauce, spaghetti sauce I cannot stand, and 15 boxes of granola bars."

I really should have kept my mouth shut.

Seriously?!

Look closely. In the picture you may find a baby sleeper, a burp cloth, a lingere bag, a small bath towel, a bath sheet, two bath robes, a bath mat, a toilet training seat, all the tub toys my kids own, a geography coloring book, and the step stool. All courtesy of B.B.

Oh, and the boys were in the tub with all this. Oh yes, I was an unhappy mother. A screaming banshee of a mother. A "What. Were. You. Thinking?" mother. An "On what planet is this acceptable?" mother. A "Why exactly did you not call me when your brother began to pile everything not nailed down into the tub of water?" mother.

This after the screaming/clawing fight BabyGirl & #1 Son had over her new exercise ball while I was trying to talk to the OT on the phone this afternoon. For the first time when I heard my children scream, "He/She's trying to kill me!" I believed them.

And can I mention that B.B. will not stay out of Bitsy's play pen tonight?

Forget Calgon....Jose Cuervo, take me away.

My boys

As I was getting on line to write this post, I caught B.B. trying to breastfeed his sister. She wasn't happy about it, but he was insistent that she needed "B.B. bites." He's convinced that drinking milk out of his sippy cup makes milk in his bosoms for him to feed the baby with.

That boy...what can I say about him. He is different. He is his own man. Last night he was Sonny Corleone. It all began with Oreos. He wanted on in the worst way. I was not about to give him one as he was already climbing the walls & dinner time was fast approaching.

It began with bribery. Actually it began with a threat from me. He was hanging from Bitsy's swing (his new favorite past time) when I asked him what would happen if he broke it. "I hava' buy her a new one at da grocery store.....But I don't have no dollars." I told him I'd get the dollars out of his bank (this isn't the first time we've been down this road). So when he wanted an Oreo he told me, "If you give me an Oreo, I'll give you da dollars in my bank." Sorry, Charlie. No Oreo. He considered this a moment, walked to the stove, turned on the oven light and said, "If you don't give me an Oreo, I won't shut dis light off." When that line of extortion didn't work he said, "You give me an Oreo or I kill you." During all this I was on the phone with QM. She said, "You may wake up with a horse's head in your bed tomorrow." (Please, click on that link! It's worth it.) Then he took all the alphabet magnets off the front of our little chest freezer & moved them to the lid. He whipped his head around and said, "There! I'm leavin' deese up here until you give me an Oreo!" Then he stomped out of the room. He did not get an Oreo, and as of yet, I am not dead.

A few minutes later he was back. "I want toast. I want two ones of it wif no cwust. If you don't fix me two ones of toast, I'll 'ptshew' you. (I think that involves shooting webs at me like Spider-Man) I'll get the icing (B.B. speak for cinnamon & sugar)." While I was making his toast he informed me that he will be my boyfriend. I said, "Oh good. Then you'd better give me a kiss." "No. Not now. I'll be your boyfriend in three hours, when Daddy comes home from work."

As he was eating his toast QM said B.B. & HT would make a good pair. B.B. could eat the toast & HT could eat the crust. I told B.B. that & he replied, "HT tan't have my cwust. Him is at him's house." I told him HT's at Grammy & Pa's. "Oh. Aunt Princess likes HT & him is a boy."

When he finished his toast I told him to go wash his hands. "First I hava' lick da icing off dem. When you was a boy and dere was two toastes den you did this too." I told him I've never been a boy, but he disagrees.

As the boys were getting in the tub last night we were discussing little girls in #1 Son's preschool class. There's a Bitsy in his class who's always very interested in what #1 Son is up to. He told me, "She thinks I love her. I don't love her. She's just my friend." Then B.B. piped in, "I'm married to Ariel. Her goes a my school & her has a red tail but her got dead by a car. I'm married to Baby Bitsy too."

Then the conversation turned to Valentines day & the cards #1 Son & BabyGirl have to give their classmates. They've decided to share their cards with each other. That way BabyGirl can give the boys in her class Spider-Man Valentines & #1 Son can give the girls in his class Hannah Montana Valentines. I said that was a good idea & #1 Son wanted to pick out the card he was going to give himself. I told him he was supposed to give the cards to the kids in his class, not keep them for himself. "Well, who's going to give me a black Spider-Man one?" I said I didn't know if he would get one, but someone else would probably give out Spider-Man cards. "But what if someone gives me a girly Valentine?" I tried to explain that most girls gave everyone girly cards. Suddenly he shouted, "That's it! Then I am not going on that day! I am not going because someone might give me a girly Valentine & I don't like girly things, I only like boy-ie things!!"

Oy.

Kudos to me.

It's fixed!! It's fixed!! I now have working internet...and my IP tech people are stupid. When you are told "I cannot load any web pages" the advice you give should not include going to a web page to download updates. Duh. Big Red Truck! Still, I am doing the Dance of Joy! Now if only my children would all get well, and BabyGirl would get all the homework done that's piled up while she's been sick, and I could get this house under control, things would be good.

BabyGirl is on a new antibiotic. That child will be at school on Friday come hell or high water! I need her to go to school. She needs to go to school. And if she misses seeing the OT again, I'm going to snap. I'm really pushing for her to go back to school in the morning. If there's no fever between now & then, she's gone.

In other news, I have not sold my children. But the evening is still young.

Hot Mama Give Away!!

Wooh-Hoo! Sarah is giving away free stuff again. And all in the name of the Hot Mama Revolution!! It's all about Almay & that Smart Shade stuff. Must say I'm interested. Just pop on over & leave her a comment. After 50, she's going to draw a winner. Good luck!

In other Hot Mama news...I really need to get out of my pajamas on occasion. I have to admit, it's all gone to pot. The make-up rarely comes out. I live in miss-matched pj's that would leave Art rolling on the floor with laughter (there's a post for you my dear friend). I only break out the flat iron when absolutely necessary. I have fallen off the wagon. I am ashamed.

Maybe when my daughter begins dressing herself voluntarily, I'll fix my hair again.

In good Hot Mama news, my favorite pair of pre-pregnancy jeans fit again. They are comfy & cute & were cheap. This makes me happy. I now have 3 pairs of cute jeans to wear in public. Yahoo for me.

I do have a question for you, my darling readers. Who do you get gussied up for? Your significant other or yourself? Husband wouldn't notice if I came out wearing a prom dress & bee hive...well, maybe then, but that's about what it would take. He's never understood my tendencies towards being a clothes horse and my need to do hair & make-up just to pick a child up from Pre-school. He's a boy. He rarely notices. So it's all for me.

Oh, oh, oh, the mail just came. I got my gift card & sponge from the honesty contest. Very cool!! And my new book about SPD. I heart mail!