Toilet Seats in the Diswasher

Today as I took my 2 1/2 year old to the bathroom I happened to catch a glance at the underside of the toddler toilet seat. I was totally disgusted and decided to give it a try in the dishwasher in order to avoid touching the nastiness. I was pleased to find out that they washed up beautifully.

No More Snaggletooth

Last night as I shopped the 90% off clearance sale at Kohl's while my parents watched the kids, Emily lost her second upper front loose tooth. This is the story:

As Emily and Bradley were playing "Babies in the Belly" at bedtime, a game where they both get underneath a big quilt (the womb) and kick their way out, Bradley accidentally bumped Emily in the mouth and knocked her tooth out. Bradley came downstairs and said to my parents, "I've got some good news and some bad news. The good news is Emily's tooth fell out. The bad news is that it's bleeding real bad."

Back to the Frump

I didn't post yesterday because I took my husband to the airport for a business trip and it was nice to just sit on the couch and hold my little baby and watch a little TV. He'll be gone this week. I have a whole week to guiltlessly leave the toilet seat lid up. Woo hoo!

I'm still working on my experiment conclusion.

My June Cleaver Experiment - Day 6

Yes, I am still conducting my experiement, but Saturdays are so crazy that I didn't get a moment to take a picture of myself or collect data. After 6 days it feels so normal to wear pearls and skirt. I bought a dress at Walmart last night. I don't know who I was kidding when I purchased a size 4 two months after having a baby and with nursing breasts. I'll be taking it back next week. I'll be pregnant again before I ever fit in it. Wait a minute ... was I ever a size 4? Oh well, it was wishful thinking.

We had an Easter egg hunt today. Emily was very disappointed to be defeated by her younger brother.

My baby has some serious belly button issues. As I changed her diaper today, Emily said, "Are you going to discuss that with the doctor?" referring to what appears to be Rachel's possible "outie."

Happy Easter Eve!

My June Cleaver Experiment - Day 5

Data Collection (Day 5):
I did a very un- June thing today and wore my husband's flip flops with socks while I cleaned the kitchen. But let me explain. Since it is now officially Spring I decided to do some Spring cleaning. I dusted every single window blind in the house. Meanwhile I opened every single window not realizing it was chilly outside. So the house got cold and my feet got cold so I put on socks.

I went to Walmart tonight and bought my husband a lifetime supply of pants - 7 pairs. I bought him 3 pairs the other day and he loved them. They were clearanced for $7.

I'm tired. More tomorrow.

My June Cleaver Experiment - Day 4

Data Collection (Day 4):
I'm a bit tired today. My parents came to town and I met them at a restaurant for breakfast. Unaware of my experiment, my mom was wondering why I was so dressed up.

We came home and lounged on the couch and watched TV. Then my husband's parents came over and we went out to dinner. So the good news is that I didn't have to cook a single meal today. Now that is the life! No cooking = no dishes to clean. However, my kitchen is somehow still a mess. Since we ate a late breakfast, I fed the kids M & Ms for a mid afternoon snack. I'm sure June would've fed her kids carrot and celery sticks.

Ok. I'll be the first to admit it. My baby is not that cute right now. Well, maybe cute in an "E.T. phone home" sort of way. But I am fully aware that I have one of those babies that people will say is cute, when in my presence, but in my absence say, "Did you see the hair on that baby?"
"Yeah, it was pretty crazy. And I've never seen a baby with such bad acne."
"That mother should really clip that baby's fingernails so her face doesn't get scratched up."

"And where did she get that freakishly long tongue?"

First of all, I'm proud to say my genes provided the nice tongue. And I'm ok with her being in a not-so-cute-stage right now. I still love her. Tulip bulbs aren't that pretty either, but eventually they bloom into beautiful flowers. I'll be patient for her spring to arrive.

My June Cleaver Experiment - Day 3

Data Collection (Day 3):
I noticed that when I get dressed I gravitate to the cotton clothes, no wool or polyester. I also don't want to wear anything with a cinched waist or belt. Too uncomfortable. So basically I like to wear sweat dresses.

I tidied the kitchen tool drawer.

I mended clothes and a blanket.

For dinner I made a teriyaki stir-fry with a side of pineapple chunks and a scoop of ice cream for dinner. Emily ate the chicken, but told me she didn't like the "karaoke" sauce.

Today I wore the pumps. I'm thinking the shoes were just a prop for the show because it would've looked silly to have June barefoot. They were uncomfortable and hurt my pinky toes. Although it did make me feel important to hear the clickety-clack on the wood and tile floors, I felt I little too business-like. I think I might prefer to wear some house slippers. When Jason saw me wearing shoes all day, he thought he needed to wear shoes too. I think he was jealous of my clickety-clack.

My June Cleaver Experiment - Day 2

Data Collection (Day2):
I wonder if June ever felt like she ran around with her head cut off.

Jason killed one of our cordless phones today by dipping it in the toilet.

I did a little more research on June Cleaver by watching 2 episodes of Leave it To Beaver. I need to work on my sparkling kitchen a little more.

I did not make cookies from scratch today, but I did make Rice Krispy treats and brought them to two ladies from church.

I was a little disturbed about the price of wheat rising because of the current wheat shortage, but my frown turned upside down when my mother called to tell me the Fed cut the interest rate another 3/4 of a point.

For dinner I made biscuit sandwiches using ice box biscuits, sliced turkey, and American cheese. I served it with a side of frozen mixed vegetables.

I hope to have a bit more energy tomorrow and try out a different skirt. I don't think June wore the same skirt or dress two days in a row. I also don't feel quite right being barefoot in the house so I think tomorrow I might try wearing pumps.

Finally!!!

Finally Emily painlessly lost her tooth today. It came out as she said the word, "Monday." She was excited to have lost it on St. Patrick's Day. Now if we can just get her to lose its neighbor.

My June Cleaver Experiment

Today is the first day of my week long June Cleaver experiment. This week I am going to dress and behave like June Cleaver from the old time Leave it to Beaver show.

Hypothesis: Looking and behaving like June Cleaver will make me a better housewife and mother.

Procedure: Every day I will wear a skirt, blouse and my pearl necklace. When I cook I will wear an apron. I will kiss my husband as he walks out the door to go to work, fix his collar and hand him his lunchbox. I will treat my children in a sweet and gentle demeanor. I will do my housework with a smile, hum a song, and enjoy it. I will bake cookies at least one day this week from scratch. I will make the beds every day. I will keep my kitchen sparkling clean.

Data Collection (Day 1): Today as I was getting dressed, my oldest daughter inquired why I was wearing a skirt. She knew we attended church yesterday and was a little bit confused. In the morning we tidied the children's rooms. Because this week brings in the spring season we retired the black patent leather shoes and long sleeved velvet dresses and took inventory of the spring attire. After lunch, the children and I watched TV programs about volcanoes, St. Patrick, and doll making. We read a chapter out of the book Ginger Pye by Eleanor Estes. I fixed the traditional Monday night supper of grilled cheese and tomato soup. As a I put on my apron to prepare supper, Wendy looked a bit confused but told me she thought my apron was pretty. Today I balanced supper with a fruit serving of applesauce. It was a swell day!

I must admit that I fell out of character a few times throughout the day. I am certain that June did not chug a Diet Pepsi in 10:30 in the morning, trek out the trash wearing her husband's big rubber flip flops, use I Can't Believe it's Not Butter spray on her grilled cheese, nor power cycle her cable modem. I also question whether she ever dozed on the couch while she nursed her infant because our only evidence of her perfection begins when her youngest is eight years old. So after the mishaps of the day, I remind myself that June was a fictional mother of only 2 children. I look forward to day 2.

Ilitteracy will stunt your growth.

I worked with Sarah on reading today. I never realized how she never understood the process of reading words from left to right. I guess she's always thought you look at the pictures in a book and make up the story as you go along. So we went through some beginner books today. I pointed her finger at the words and read them aloud. She was so excited to be on her way to reading. At dinner she exclaimed, "I'm learning to read! My legs are going to get longer!"

I Did It

I nursed my baby in sacrament meeting today. It was the first time in six kids that I've done that. I've never been able to discern whether it was appropriate to risk a potential nipple slip in the most reverent hour of church, but today I took that risk.

The last speaker was speaking before the rest hymn and David took Wendy to go potty. There I sat with five kids, three of them coloring, one of them sucking on an empty bottle, and one of them frustrated at her unproductive rooting. I wasn't sure how long my bouncing her was going to prevent her fussy whimpers tranforming into a loud hunger wail, so I assessed the situation:

Option #1: I could get up from my dead center position in the pew, crawl over the remaining 4 kids, crayons, notebooks, scripture cases, and Honey Nut Toasted Oats and leave the chapel hoping some member of the congregation would be brave enough to supervise my kids until my husband came back.

Do I dare?

Option #2: I could do the same as option #1, but but take the rest of the kids with me.

Too much commotion!

Option #3: Or I could discreetly nurse the baby as I sat on the pew listening to the speaker talk about her family.

Just as I was choosing the third option, my husband came back and the congregation was standing up to sing "Home Can Be a Heaven on Earth." I suppose I could've gone to the lonely Mother's Room at that point, but I went with my decision to whip out the boob underneath the bright pink baby blanket draped over my shoulder. The bustling of everyone standing up and singing helped me to get situated and overcome my fear. I am happy to report that Rachel had a successful snack and no nipple was exposed. It was quite a liberating moment!

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Daddy and his 6 kids

Getting ready to blow out all 37 candles

Call the fire department!

Tonight we celebrated by going to one of Daddy's favorite burger joints. It's a lot of fun going out to eat with all six kids. I imagine it is similar to the lifestyle of a celebrity with people staring and whispering as you walk by. Tonight was an amusement. First there was the oldest, #1, tearing into her hamburger with a plastic fork and shoving each bite as deeply as possible into her mouth to avoid any possible contact with her two front dangling baby teeth that she refuses to pull. Then there was #2 dipping all the fingers of his right hand into his ketchup cup and delightfully licking each one, as he avoided telling us that he disliked his hot dog. #3 patiently waiting for her turn to get a refill of Sprite instead of orange soda. #4 dancing on her chair to Phil Collin's "Easy Lover" and Madonna's "Material Girl" while eating french fries, her hot dog, and the rest of Bradley's hot dog. #5 with his 1cm round dark red scab on the tip of his nose happily eating french fries as he tries to stand up in his high chair. #6 nursing under the pink thermal blanket as her mother avoids exposing the post partum roll of belly fat to the other patrons. And finally Daddy, thoroughly enjoying his juicy burger, french fries and Diet Coke with a splash of Dr. Pepper. Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Best Job in the World!

Flashback:
Last night I watched a recorded episode of Aliens in America. It reminded me of the time when my high school homeroom class took a class period to go the computer lab and take a career aptitude test. Eager to find out what I should be, I very accurately answered each of the 100 questions. This was certainly going to help me determine where to apply to college. So upon finishing my last question and hitting the 'enter' button, I waited. I was so hoping to get my dream careers of architect or movie director. Some kids around me were already receiving their results and shouting out their long individual lists of fabulous careers:

"Lawyer! Pilot! Accountant! ..."
"Pharmacist! Veterinarian! Nurse! ..."
"Professor! Writer! Inventor!..."

Oh goody! I was so excited. Finally the computer software finished thinking and spit out my single destiny:

"Fork Lift Operator"

Fighting the tears, I quickly shut down my computer. When the other kids asked me about my future success, I think I told them my computer wasn't working and I forced myself to believe it as well. I don't remember much after that point. All I knew as a 17 year old pubescent adolescent was that I was destined for loserdom.

Flash Forward to Present:
Now as I reflect upon the activities of my day and think about me feeding my 17 month old son his serving of macaroni and cheese at lunch, I realize that my computer in the computer lab wasn't broken after all because I'm a pretty darn good Fork Lift Operator. Thank you very much!

Dumb Criminals

Bradley is a bright kid. However, sometimes I question his common sense, like today when I saw his name neatly printed in ballpoint pen on the wooden playroom shelves. If you're going to write on the furniture, certainly don't write your name. Duh! Usually when I come across scribbles here and there I assume the guilty party is a clueless toddler and don't punish after the fact. Instead I blame myself for leaving out the pen. But when I came across this rather advanced scribble today I yelled, "Whooaa! Bradley! What is this?" pointing to the B-R-a-D-L-e-y.
With puppy dog eyes he said, "Sorry."
He failed to win my sympathy. I replied, "When did you do this? Yesterday? Two weeks ago? When you were 4? When???!!!"
Keeping his puppy dog eyes and pointing his index finger to the corner of his mouth as if to give some thought he said, "I think I did it in February."

My Little Pony Mania

If you want your kids to sit still for 80 minutes, I recommend drugging them with the My Little Pony - Pony Puppy and Other Stories DVD. We checked it out from the library this weekend and my kids were mesmerized by it. It was such a great flashback to bad 80's animation. My favorite episode is "Bright Lights." Just a brief synopsis:

Baby Heart Throb, Baby Lofty and Baby Half Note want to sing backup for Knight Shade (the hot pop singing pony with a totally dreamy and luscious purple mane.) But to their dismay, he has stolen their shadows, which contain all of their energy and substance. The Ponies soon discover that the evil wizard Arabus is behind Knight Shade's behavior, and now it's up to the Flutter Ponies to save the day.

The best part is when the mean Greyvale pony gang comes to threaten Knight Shade and they break out in a mean song:

We're gonna make you sorry
We're gonna kick up a fuss
We're gonna make you sorry
You tangled with us

We'll make you regret the day
You stole our shadows away
You chose a nasty game to play
And now we're gonna make you pay
a yay yay yay yay yay yay yay...

We're gonna make you sorry
We're gonna do it to you
We're gonna make you sorry
And when we are through
No one in this world
Will be as gloomy and forlorn

We're gonna make you sorry
You wanna know how sorry?
You're gonna be real sorry!
Sorry you were ever born!
Sorry you were ever born!
You'll be sorry you were ever born!

Ouch! That's harsh!

Anyway, now I totally have the hots for Knight Shade!

Called to Repentence

I am a sinner. I covet my neighbor's gardener. Every Tuesday afternoon I look out my kitchen window and grow green with envy of the team of happy little Colombians driving their industrial size lawn mowers and working their gasoline powered edgers. They can do in 5 minutes what takes me an entire Saturday afternoon. It's just not fair. I want a team of happy little Colombians to make my yard look pretty. I must repent and get me one.

Tonight I went to an event at church for women only. It's funny how the women with small children are the ones who linger the latest.

A Feminine Dinner

Monday night is grilled cheese on paper plate night. The quicker the cleanup, the more time we have for Family Home Evening. Sarah loves grilled cheese sandwiches and looks forward to dinner on Monday nights. This evening Wendy pushed her plate of half eaten grilled cheese away from herself and said, "I don't like it!"
Astonished, Sarah said, "Why? It's so yummy! It's got cheese inside. And it's girl cheese!"

No More Newborn Baby Butt

I think my baby used up her cuteness within her first 6 weeks of life. She's got some crazy spiky hair and a face full of baby acne. I know. It's just a phase.

She also lost her newborn baby butt. It is no longer the skinny pink shallow crevice it used to be. It is white and a tad bit pudgy. My baby is growing up!

Blog Stalking

The other day I was editing my Blogger profile and discovered that if you click on the words in the Interests, Favorite Movies, Favorite Music, and Favorite Books sections, it will bring you to a list of other Bloggers that have that same word in their profile. So the other night I met Shauna. She is a stay-at-home mom and she homeschools her 5 children. Cool. She is an advocate of unassisted birthing. Curious, I decided to check out her website. This opened up a whole new world to me. Don't get me wrong. I will most likely always choose to have my babies in a hospital regardless of how uncomfortable the beds are and despite the fact the hospital does not offer HDTV and TiVo. But, WOW! there are women out there that willingly give birth and actually catch their own babies, without a doctor or midwife, at home in front of their older children, while their husband snaps photos . She did warn me that the pictures would be graphic. Anyway, Shauna is very into being "natural" and she's very pretty. If you would like to meet Shauna just add "having babies" to the Interests section of your Blogger profile.

Others who like "having babies":
Milkmaidwench - a 33 year old New Zealander who strangely doesn't have a blog.

Carey - a Christian diabetic whose profile reminded me that I like ABBA too. She's a failed Blogger with only 3 posts and the last one dated June 2005. Where are you Carey? Making babies?

The Rich Family - Mrs. Rich is a gorgeous 24 year old Barbie doll with 4 kids.

I have given some thought to having a baby at home (with professional assistance), however, I just don't think it would be the same. I would miss being woken up by the rattling wheels of the portable baby crib as they bring the baby to my room for her 2 am feeding. I would miss being asked, "Baked Fish or Chef Salad?" I would miss the sound of the baby's heartbeat on the monitor as she gets ready for her big arrival. I would miss having someone draw my bath and change my sheets. I would miss the soft crunchy ice pellets and styrofoam cups. I would miss the all-you-can-drink Diet Coke, cranberry juice, orange juice, and apple juice and all-you-can-eat graham crackers and saltines. I would miss my walks down the sterile white halls. I would miss being wheeled out of the hospital by an old man and all the old ladies admiring my newborn baby. I would miss being supervised as I swallowed a $25 Motrin. Most of all I would miss my 2 day vacation when I can catch up on my People magazines and take a ridiculously long shower or bath without hearing the word "Mommy!"

New Lubricant

The oil in the car was successfully changed today. D.L. worked his magic and gave me a safety plug. Let's hope it works.

You would think by the sixth kid I would know to be prepared for "blow-out" moments. Rachel had a blow out on our outing and oozed poop on her clothing. I had no change of clothes for her and only one blanket. Thankfully I brought a diaper and wipes. So I undressed her, changed her diaper, and nursed my naked baby in the lube shop.

I also had my post partum 6 week check up this morning. Everything is back to normal. I got the pap smeared and the doctor asked, "Birth Control?"
I said, "No, thank you."
With a subtle roll of the eyes and slight nod of the head he said, "See you next year," when deep down inside he knew it would probably be sooner than that.

Sarah's Random Quote of the Day

My 3rd daughter is famous in our family for blurting out random things. Today a fire truck raced past our house with its sirens. With big eyes Sarah told all of us, "When it's my friend's birthday, her house is on fire."

I'm old and cheating on my grocery store.

I'm envious of my kid's collagen. As I squeezed my 16 month old son's cheeks today I wished mine were as supple as his. The last 7 years of sleep deprivation haven't worked any favors on my facial skin. I think I might have to bite the bullet and spend $17 on a 1 ounce bottle of lotion that claims to have age defying effects. The good news is that two local grocery stores have Olay products on sale this week which reminds me of a dream I had last night. I dreamed that my favorite grocery store called and left a nasty and threatening message on my answering machine because I shopped at their competitor's store. They threatened that they would not honor any of my coupons anymore. I woke up very upset. I really must be a 30-something housewife.

Who needs Barbies?

My kids love playing with batteries. There's Papa D, Mama C, kid AAs, baby AAAs, and puppy 9 volt.

Sarah showed me a picture that she drew of me and said, "Mommy, that's you. You're shouting."

Uh oh. My kid thinks I'm a tyrant.

I reluctantly asked, "Why am I shouting?"

"Oh. You were asking me to help you with something."

Phew! Not a tyrant, just a slave driver.

Murphy's Law Part Deux

I washed the girl's sheets on Saturday. I have a schedule to wash them on the first of every month. I know this frequency might not be up to Martha Stewart's standards, but I very much dislike washing sheets and making beds. This morning Emily said to me, "Mommy, I think you might need to wash my sheets again. I peed last night because I was dreaming that I was on the toilet." It gave me a flash of deja vu. She was very sweet about it so I couldn't help but smile and think about revising my schedule to an "as needed" basis.

The Joy of Analytics

Occassionally I like to check my Google Analytics to see what search terms brought people to my website. Here are my favorites:

• do pregnant women poop their pants
• girl with panties stuck in her butt cheeks
• mature pooping pants
• peed his pants gym class
• shaving my pubes with electric clipper
• dehydrated placenta service
• farting poop diaper
• is it wrong to expect my husband to get me flowers on my birthday
• malinda had a baby at the age 5
• melinda bigboob
• melinda boob
• melinda pee
• mommy boobs in beth
• placenta lasagna
• rash between butt cheeks
• I would like to wet my pants but what will mom say

*Sigh!* I think I might talk too much about poop and boobs.

My Cynical Saturday

I know this post is kind of long, but I had to vent about my day:

I went to get the oil changed in the car today. We hit the 5000 mile mark a couple weeks ago and David took it in, but they couldn't change it because it needed to be "evacuated" and they didn't have the equipment at the moment. So I called the lube shop this morning to ask if they had the equipment and the woman replied, "Yes, maam." So I got there, waited about 20 minutes and the greasy, dirty employee came to me and told me that they couldn't change my oil because they needed to order another part to be able to reach the bottom of my oil pan. Apparently at our last oil change in May 2007 somebody wrote on the cross bar beneath our car "DO NOT TOUCH PLUG" in 2 inch tall letters with yellow puffy paint along with a nice big puffy yellow "X" next to the oil plug. This means that they have to empty the oil from the top with some sort of vacuum which is typical of foreign cars, but we have a good 'ol American Ford.

What in the world???

We have never taken our car to any other place for an oil change and of course the place won't admit to having painted that there.

Grrrrr!

So I grumpily got into the car and drove to the Ford dealership. It was 2:30pm and the service hours stickered on the door read 8am - 3pm.

Good!

I walked in and said I needed an oil change and the employee said they were closing up shop and he couldn't do it.

What? The sign says 3:00! If you are going to turn people away at 2:30 then post 2:30 on the door! Grrrr!

I even pathetically squeezed some tears out and more pathetically said, "Pleeeease!" He told me very unsympathetically I could beg all I wanted, but it wasn't going to happen. I at least got him to look under my car at the puffy paint lettering and give me his opinion as to what that meant. He had no idea and gave me his business card.

Thanks a bunch, man.

Then...I drove to another lube shop and I explained the issue to the guy and he didn't think it would be any problem. Meanwhile I sat in the waiting area and called the first lube shop and asked them to find the sticker that was on my windshield that they had thrown away that would give me a clue as to who was responsible for making the underside of my car looked like a 1990s cheerleading camp T shirt. They called me back and told me they couldn't find it.

Of course! Because you know that my last oil change was there and are embarrassed that somebody painted a warning in bright yellow puffy paint.

I told them I would be there in a few minutes to come look for it myself and hung up the phone. Finally I hear, "Ford Escape."

Yes!, my oil had been successfully changed.

"Maam. I need to talk to you about your car."

Uh oh.

"We couldn't do the oil change. We just don't have the right equipment. You might want to try Firestone down the street."

Uh huh. Right. Basically you're telling me that my car has been turned into a piece of crap, by some puffy paint psycho.

So then I drove back to the first lube shop, parked my car, and walked toward the building. The obviously annoyed lady motioned me to the garage and said, "Have at it!" referring to my search of the lost windshield sticker. I looked in the first nasty, greasy trash can and it had obviously been emptied. There wasn't a single windshield sticker in there after an entire day of oil changes. Just some cellophane wrapping.

Do they think I'm stupid? Probably.

So I asked one of the greasy men where they might throw away a windshield sticker. One guy obviously knew about the situation and gave me a clue that I wasn't going to find it and told me to bring the car back on Friday and he would check out my car's oil plug. Perhaps he is the puffy paint pscho. Anyway, that is what I will do. But wait...that's not quite all. As I was driving out of the parking lot, my husband called me on the cell phone and to tell me that the other lube shop called our home to let me know that they forgot to put the dipstick back in my car.

@##$%^^$%#$@$#@! What the freak?

Finally after 2 hours of chasing around town I make it to the grocery store and accomplished something (I got 3 jars of Peter Pan Peanut Butter for $0.25 each thanks to my sale and coupon shopping) and then to Walmart to return the two boxes of Huggies Supreme Natural Fit diapers that my inexperienced diaper-buying husband mistakingly bought. I failed to inform him to not buy the supreme diapers. I don't see the point in supreme diapers. Supposedly they

"are shaped to fit more naturally so your baby is really free."

Um...yeah my baby is plenty free, thank you. Do you have any "brick fit" to prevent my baby from climbing on the kitchen table or busting down the baby gate? Now for that I might pay an extra six cents per diaper.

Ok. I feel better now.