Hot heads run in the family

Baby Rachel had a hot head this morning. She awoke at about 5 AM and when I picked her up I was for sure she had a fever. A concerned parent, I took her downstairs for examination. She had awakened an hour or two earlier than usual and I was prepared to be up until the doctor's office opened. All my thermometers in the house are in need of new batteries or are lost so I was basing my fever observations purely on human touch. Then I thought about our day at the pool. We only spent a couple of hours there and she was mostly in the shade. I looked at the sunscreen bottle and the label read to ask doctor before using on infant under 6 months. Whoops! Maybe I shouldn't have saturated little Rachel with the aerosol sunscreen before going to the pool. I was a little stricken with panic, that I poisoned my baby with sunscreen so I searched in the cupboard for a thermometer and was lucky to find a working one. I decided to go for the rectal reading and it read 98.6 degrees. Good news! No fever, just a hot head and we went back to bed. I called the doctor later in the morning and questioned why baby's aren't supposed to use sunscreen, without giving away the fact that I already had done so. The nurse told me that it can clog their sweat glands. So my theory is that I temporarily clogged Rachel's sweat glands and she was unable to naturally cool her head down. She seems to be fine now and my mom reminded me today that another one of my kids had a hot head as well.

I bathed Rachel before going to bed last night at about 11:30 pm to get off the lotion. Rachel is not accustomed to regular baths. I'm a lazy mother and think it sufficient to do a thorough daily wipe down with a baby wipe until Sunday morning when when I quickly bathe her in the master bathroom sink. Consequently Rachel is still not fully used to being doused with water. This was her sequence of reactions to her Monday night bath. It was only her second time in her whole life of being in the big bath tub. I think she looks like a Jib Jab character in the first photo. Her head really isn't that enormous.

"I'm not so sure about this."

"What the ... ?"

"This totally bites!"

"Get that camera out of my face and let me go to bed!"

I"ve been a little under the weather

My apologies for my blogging slackness. I was suffering from an acute case of Blog Envy the past few days. Every now and then I go on a blog stalk and come across some very lovely blogs. After reading them, I get this feeling of inadequacy and feel like my blog just doesn't measure up to the talents of these fine women and mothers. I envy the poetic posts of the sentimental mother. I envy the artistic photography of another. I envy the witty humor. I envy the creative projects they start and are able to finish. I envy the awesome blog header that they probably designed themselves. I envy the number of comments they receive. I envy their children's beautiful hair. I envy their Etsy shops.

My blog esteem was lifted yesterday when a woman at church told me her daughter loves my blog. And to top that off, I got a comment yesterday that said, "I just found your blog. Very enjoyable!" Wow. It even got an exclamation point. OK. I will repent and turn my envy into admiration. I'm back to blogging.

I'm a Good American

Last night my husband and I stimulated the economy with some of the money that was automatically deposited into our account last week from the government. We had an official date night complete with babysitter and dinner out. It was enjoyable. It's been nearly a year since we've paid a babysitter to watch our kids. We really wanted to see the new Indiana Jones movie, but decided against it since it was opening night and we have a 4 month old to tote around. I want to be sure to get good seats as well. We might stimulate the economy some more in a couple of weeks and see the movie then.

I can't believe it

We of course were watching the American Idol season finale tonight, the Super Bowl of Reality TV. I recorded it and zoomed through to avoid wasted time in commercials. When we arrived at the end when the two Davids stood there on the stage waiting for the envelope to be read, we watched as Seacreast read, "And the American Idol 2008 is David..."

Ahhhggghhh!

Fox of course went overtime and our DVR did not record the announcing of the winner and the confetti and balloons that I was looking foward to seeing. Wikipedia had it posted already. I was a little disappointed with the results. I think Archuleta deserved it, but it's not like he's not going to be famous. Clay Aiken seems to be more famous than Rueben. I guess all those Mormon teenie boppers had to go to bed early and couldn't vote the whole 4 hours. He's still a star in my eyes.

Moving on to "So You Think You Can Dance" tomorrow night....

My name is Melinda Beth and I am a TV junkie.

Snowcones, anyone?

It hailed tonight. I've never seen hail this big. It wasn't quite golf ball size, but it was exciting. When I saw the ice laying in the grass, I couldn't help myself but to go out and collect some. I waited until the downpour ceased though, so I wouldn't get knocked unconscious.

Shape Recognition

Jason demonstrated his ability at shape recognition. When he saw the cylindrical shape of the can of formula in the kitchen he thought it belonged next to the toilet paper in the bathroom, so he placed it there. He's not potty trained, but he does spend a lot of time in the bathroom as an audience studying the toilet paper supply. Good job, Jason!

A Spiritual Thought

I debated yesterday whether to use the word "whore" in the title of my post. I didn't want to come across vulgar and crass. So I asked my husband before clicking "publish post" if it was bad to write the word "whore." He said he didn't think so and that it depended upon the context. Then I justified that whore is a word used in the scriptures, so it can't be all that bad. My husband also reminded me that "dumb ass" is used several times in the scriptures as well. If you do a search for "dumb ass" on http://scriptures.lds.org/ you get the following results:

2 Pet. 2: 16 (New Testament)
16 But was rebuked for his iniquity: the dumb ass speaking with man’s voice forbad the madness of the prophet.

This scripture is referring to the prophet Balaam of the Old Testament (Numbers 22-24.) He is an example of a false prophet ripe in iniquity.

Mosiah 12: 5 (Book of Mormon)
5 Yea, and I will cause that they shall have burdens lashed upon their backs; and they shall be driven before like a dumb ass.

This is the Lord speaking to the prophet, Abinadi, referring to those who are unrighteous.

Mosiah 21: 3 (Book of Mormon)
3 Now they durst not slay them, because of the oath which their king had made unto Limhi; but they would smite them on their cheeks, and exercise authority over them; and began to put heavy burdens upon their backs, and drive them as they would a dumb ass—

In reference to the Lamanites towards the Nephites. A fulfillment of the prophecy given by Abinadi in Mosiah 12.

So what can we learn from these scriptures? Well, basically if we don't want to be considered a dumb ass, we need to live righteously which includes not following false prophets, not giving into lusts, and keeping the commandments. Asses are known for carrying heavy loads on their backs and, metaphorically speaking, if we choose to live righteously and repent of our sins we will avoid the heavy burden caused by sin. Without that burden, it is easier for us to continually make good choices that will keep us on the straight and narrow path that leads us back to where we can live again with our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.

I'm a Grocery Store Whore

I think my favorite grocery store knows that I'm trying to dump him for Walmart Supercenter. He must sense the impending final break-up due to me not paying him a visit last weekend. He flirted with me this week by sending a lovely weekly ad with all my favorite buy one get one free deals. He tempted me with Quacker granola bars, 40 oz. Peter Pan peanut butter, Nabisco Snackwells and Oreos single serve trays, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, Ritz crackers, Spray 'N Wash, and even some Hershey Kisses. He knows me well! Those are all the items that I excitedly search for when I get on the internet each Wednesday morning to browse the ads. Darn it! He is totally seducing me. In fact I've been to see him 3 times already this week (mostly because I don't have the courage to make ridiculosly large bulk purchases in one visit.) I totally admit to taking advantage of him for his deals in order to stock up on essential items. Because of my grocery store promiscuity I now have an 18 month supply of peanut butter, 6 month supply of granola bars, and 4 month supply of crackers and cookies. However, despite his sneaky connivery, I am proud to say that I had the strength to resist his Kisses.

Drugs for Jugs

I wish I had known 4 kids ago that there was a drug capable of increasing a lactating woman's milk supply. After some internet research, I learned that the drug Reglan, which is typically used for heartburn, can increase the level of horomone responsible for producing milk. So since I was having lactation issues (not enough milk coming out), I called my OB and they prescibed me Reglan. It indeed worked! My milk jugs are back in business. Unfortunatley the drug can only be taken for maximum of 2 weeks so my dairy might need to shut down shortly after. But it's fun while it lasts. It's like being a human milk vending machine -- pop in a pill and milk comes out.

Do-over, please?

Some days I just want to give up and request a do-over. Like today when I went to the kitchen to get me a glass of water and stepped in a puddle of melted ice in front of the refigerator while at my feet a 2 1/2 year old begs me to watch Nemo despite the fact that I've told her 8 times that our DVD player is broken. I didn't even know she knew that the movie existed.

And then there is the toddler dumping puzzles in the playroom while the 7 and 4 year old are arguing over who gets to place the upper half of Argentina into the South American puzzle. All the while my insides are churning in regards to the clutter that is acumulating in each room of the house.

There is laundry in my master bedroom. In fact last night I did not sleep well, knowing there was an enormous pile nearly creating a fire hazard in front of the doorway. I actually dreamed that a good friend of mine bought a house in my neighborhood and when I went to check it out, I was extremely jealous of her gigantic laundry room with 4 sets of front loading washers and dryers.

In my living room I have a floor full of size 3-6 month girl clothing that I have to figure out where to put because the dresser in the girl's bedroom is at maximum capacity.

My kitchen is just, well, a kitchen with about 20 linear feet of counter space full of dirty dishes and everything else we try to keep out of an 18 month's old reach even though he can get to it anyway with enough persistance.

I have to think about when I am going to take a moment to feed the 4 month old and how to settle the older kid's dispute of whether to eat pasta or cheese and crackers for lunch.

Ok, so in hindsight it might not seem all that bad. But what's a mother going to do in the middle of a day that is going like this? --- Pour herself a frothy glass of Diet Coke, plop on the couch and read People magazine. There's just no use in trying to redeem the day with anything the slightest bit productive.

I am glad I didn't totally give up on the day because I would've missed these moments:

Bradley's self-prepared hot dog.

My discovery of why Jason was crying upstairs for 10 minutes.

The kid's dressing Jason like a girl.

An Orthodontic Challenge

Sarah is our budding artist. This is what she drew today. She titled it, "A Girl, Sally." I love the coordinating dress and hair.

Clean-up Claire

We have two new rules in our house. Thou shalt not:

1. Complain that nobody else is cleaning while you clean.
2. Complain that you are the only one cleaning when nobody else seems to be cleaning.

Last night as Emily was picking up the bedrooms before bedtime, she said, "Daddy, I'm the onl..." when Daddy cut her off and reminded her of the rule. She then said, "I'm the one.... doing.... that.... thing."

It's a hard habit to break.

Today I was pleased to find an article in the Friend that addresses this very issue. It's about an older sister that complains that she has to clean up her younger brother and sister's messes. Emily asked me to read it to her and I happily did. I don't think she realized its message when she chose the story and quietly regretted having picked it. What great supporting documentation to back parents up. Church magazines rock!

Quote of the Day

"I saw my poop hanging and it looked like bunnies."

- Sarah (after going potty)

Happy Mother's Day!

I forgot to the get the traditional photo with mom pic today. So we got one at 10:00PM with Sarah asleep. It works.

A Good Saturday

We had fun with the camera.

A true princess

There must be a pea under there somewhere.

A lesson in lettuce

Tonight at dinner we gave Jason a taste of Romaine lettuce. It was his first attempt and it took a little getting used to. After dinner we went outside and as we watered the plants he decided to sample a leaf from each of them. Jason learned his first lesson on vegetarianism:

Lesson One: Eat leaves.

The things that offend us

I was upstairs doing laundry when Bradley comes crying. He whined, "Mommy! Sarah and Emily are calling me a little boy!"
"Um...yeah."
"But I'm not a little boy!"
"You're not?"
"No. I'm a big kid. They're being mean!"
"Ok."
Then Emily came in defense and said, "Mommy, he called us babies first!"
"Ok."

Then I thought, when is the crossing over point when we no longer desire to be big and prefer to be considered young and petite? Age 16? Age 25? I don't remember. Probably when the breasts lose their perk and the facial collagen gets looser. I know I wouldn't like it if someone called me an "old fart" or "big girl." So I guess all is fair. "Knock it off kids and just get along because I've got a mountain of laundry to fold."

and there's more... one load in the washer and another in the dryer. I want to live in a nudist colony.

The Rescue

As I rummaged through the toys in the playroom, I came across Woody. I was wondering why I didn't see him during the yard sale because I was sure I had put him in the yard sale box. I also thought it strange that the Cinderella carriage didn't sell. Now I realize that it must have been used for the rescue.

In the eyes of a child

I took Emily out shopping tonight. It was a little mother, daughter bonding time. We went to Goodwill to see if any of our stuff that we donated was on the shelves yet. We didn't see anything. Then we went to Walmart. We shopped for a couple of hours. I bought her a big ice cream cone from the McDonald's inside of the Walmart. She was thrilled and ate the entire thing. On the way home she saw that the car clock said 10:04. She was surprised to see that there were other cars on the road. She said, "Mommy, why are there so many people out at 10:04? They should be in bed!"

Ultimate Bed Head

However, his hair looks like that all day, not just in the morning. No joke.

I'm converting

Yesterday I went to the local Walmart Supercenter to pick up some wipes, diapers, and Pull-ups. I decided since I was already there, I might as well do my grocery shopping. As I shopped I realized how much cheaper a lot of the items were. For example, the milk was $3.40 compared to $4.19, the bread was $1.54 compared to $1.69, and the cheese was $7.34 compared to $7.99. I felt disloyal to my favorite grocery store, where it's a pleasure to shop, so on my way home I stopped by the shopping plaza to order some Dominos pizza. While I waited for my pizza I went to the grocery store to give it a little snuggle. I began the weaning process and purchased a couple bags of barley, toilet seat covers, Hefty ziplocs (can't beat those BOGO sales), and some perfume and dye free detergent for my poor eczematic Sarah. Also, I bought a reusable shopping bag bearing the store's logo as a souvenir of my regular shopping days there. I'll miss you, grocery store!

"50 % More! Than our 8 oz. Package"

During my shopping at Walmart I came across this package of cheese. Ok, so....thanks for doing the math for me, Sargento. I almost needed my calculator for that one. The 12 oz. package actually cost more per ounce than the 8 oz. package. My husband calls it "evil marketing." They must be marketing toward the dumb housewife. I'm no dumb housewife, but I bought it anyway so I could take a picture of it.

Oh and happy half birthday to Bradley!

One man's trash is another man's treasure

Today we had a Yard Sale. It went well. I dreaded the whole process of getting up at 5 am to set up and dealing with bargainers, but I was pleasantly surprised that most people accepted my prices. I grossed $217 and netted $186.50 after the cost of advertising, and sign supplies. I suppose it was worth my time considering that now I don't have to haul a desk, dresser, office chair, and grill to Goodwill. I felt a little exposed having all of my junk displayed in my yard. But hey, people were willing to give me money for it. Only a couple of people tried to talk me down in price for some items. I was asking $2 each for two Lord of the Rings DVDs. One lady tried to get them for a dollar a piece. I said, "No, I'm going to stick to $2," because it was like only 8am. Sure enough about 5 minutes later some other lady came along and bought them for $2 each. I also discovered that I have some sales skills. I convinced a guy to buy my broken DVD player for $0.50 and another lady to take my scanner that was missing it's power cord for $1. One big item that I couldn't get rid of was our 5 year old gas grill. I was only asking $3 for it. But at 4pm after the sale was all cleaned up, some little hispanic man came knocking at my door and said, "You said three dollar for the uh...?" I said, "Yes!" and took the three ones he handed me and the grill was gone. I love the concept of yard sales - people paying you to haul away your junk!

Orphaned or neglected?

Do Max and Ruby have parents?

Maximum weight: 11 lbs.

Rachel has exceeded the 11 lb. maximum weight on my postage scale. Now she weighs EEEEEE.

I don't hate many things, but I HATE cockroaches. I think one of the first questions I'm going to ask when I get to heaven is, "Was it really necessary to create roaches?" Seriously, what's their purpose?

Dairy Queen

Frustrated with my lack of milk flow today I got out the breast pump. Intrigued with my dairying, my older kids intently watched my boob get vaccumed by the electic pump. They asked, "Mommy what are you doing?" I explained the process and then Wendy came over and said in her high pitched munchkin voice, "Mommy, what you doing? You making ice cream?"

A couple of this week's memories

1. Emily broke a light bulb at the grocery store on Saturday. Ok. No big deal, but it had to be the most expensive gigantic $7.99 light bulb. It made a huge loud popping noise. Emily cried. I told her not to feel too bad. It was the store's fault for stacking it precariously on the shelf and GE's fault for not making more durable packaging. Thankfully we did not have to pay for it.

2. We made homemade ice cream for our Monday night activity. The recipe called for 4 cups of heavy whipping cream. Needless to say it was super creamy and it made my lips feel greasy after eating it. Daddy commented that he did not like it, so the kids decided that they did not like it as well. Now I have a quart of lip gloss in my freezer.

More Dumb Criminals

Today when I was grabbing a load of laundry from the hamper I heard some change jingling. A little annoyed that my husband didn't empty his pockets, I began searching through the clothes. It took me about 2 seconds to discover the broken piggy bank and 9 quarters buried beneath a couple of my husband's shirts. What in the world?

"Bradley?"

"Coming, Mommy!"

As I held the broken piggy bank, he walked in and tears welled up in his eyes. I didn't give him too much of a hard time. I asked him what happened and he explained that he jumped off the bed and it broke.

"Ok. So you put it in my hamper?"

Nod.

(Seriously? The hamper? Why not put it somewhere like behind the washing machine, or under the duvet in the linen closet, or in my bottom dresser drawer, or in the bread machine? At least put it somewhere that I won't find it for another 2-6 months. I am comforted in knowing that my son will never lead a successful life in crime.)

I guess I will have to take another trip to Arizona.

Scripture Yoga

Emily came home from church with this picture.

Weird!

It's either implying that you should do yoga while reading the scriptures or that scripture reading is one of the leading causes of childhood obesity, enormous feet, and crazy hair.

Learning to Read

Teaching Sarah to read has been more difficult than the first two kids. Today I was working with Sarah using some early reader books. The first one was about a hen. Sarah asked me, "What's a hen?" I told her that a hen was a girl chicken. When we got to the page that read, "A red pet hen," I pointed to the words as Sarah attempted to read:

"A"
"red"
"pet"
"girl chicken!"

Good enough! Good job, Sarah."

Blast to the Past

I was going through old digital photos tonight comparing Rachel with her sisters at 3 months of age. I came across this picture of Sarah drinking a Big Gulp bottle.

Picture taken May 28, 2004

(It's only fair to post old baby photos from my pre-blogging years.)

Rachel Update

Yep! She's still got that crazy tongue.

Sarah, the inventor

Sarah was building with Mega Blocks after she got ready for bed.

"Mommy, you know what this is?"
Looking at the randomly built plastic colored blocks, "No. What?"
"Guess!"
"Um...an ice cream machine?"
"No!"
"Um...a helicopter?"
"Noo!"
"A popcorn popper?"
"Nooo!"
"Can I have a hint?"
"It's for moms, dads, kids, and babies."
"Oh, a soda machine?"
"No. It's very bigger."
"Can I have another hint?"
"It has a pumper."
"A homework machine?"
"No!!! It's for moms, dads, kids, and babies."
"I don't know. I give up."
Pointing to her forehead, "Mommy, you have to think!"
Dang kid! Stop putting so much pressure on me! "I don't know. Another hint?"
"It's very bigger, it gots things, and it's not a helicopter or a soda machine."
"Oohh. Things. How about a toy picker upper?"
"Ok, Mommy. I'll tell you. You pump it," as she demonstrated the up and down motion of the 4 peg green Mega Block, "and you put it behind your bed and it makes it comfy!"
"Wow! What a great invention, Sarah. "

I was totally going to guess a comfy bed maker next.

Then we went through the whole process again with her next invention. This time it was an invention only for kids. I was guessing until Daddy yelled, "Last one to bed is a rotten egg!"
Then Sarah looked at me and said with a serious face, "Mommy, I have to go to bed now."
"Sarah, are you going to tell me what it is?"
Looking over her shoulder she said very seriously, "Mommy, I have to go to bed. I'll tell you when it's morning."

A good inventor never shares her secrets. Her mother might steal the patent while she is sleeping.

FYI

5 year old boys like to randomly plug things in. I guess I shouldn't have left my Sterilite plastic container on the electric griddle. (That's dirt from the plants I had in the container.)

To be a kid again.

When I got Wendy up from her nap she told me she rode a red horsey. She was very excited about it. I asked her if that was part of her dream. She nodded and told me she rode the red horsey in the park. We watched Mary Poppins this morning. I wish I dreamed about riding brightly colored horseys in the park. The only dreams I remember are the ones about losing one of my kids in public or forgetting to wear shoes to church.

Happy Eight Years

Happy Anniversary to Us!

Our First Anniversary

Back when we were fat and living next to two gay guys.

Our Eighth Anniversary

and 6 kids later

Sacrament Talk. Check!

Today our family talked in Sacrament Meeting. Our church has a lay ministry which basically means we don't have a preacher. Members of the congregation are asked to speak on Sundays. We were asked a couple of weeks ago. I totally thought that families with lots of small children were exempt from speaking because it's been 4 years and 4 kids ago that we spoke. But my theory has officially been proven wrong. Here is how it went:

Wendy
She mumbled something about families for 20 seconds with help from Emily.

Sarah
She gave a great talk about friends all by herself. It went like this:
My name is Saaarah. I'm four year ooold. And I'm going to talk about friends. My friends are niiice. My friends choose the riiight. I love my frieeends. I love Jeeesus. In name Jesus Christ, Men.

Bradley
He talked about the Sacrament. It went like this:
Good morning, Brothers and Sisters. My name is Bradley. I am almost five and a half years old and am in CTR 6. What is the sacrament? Doctrine and Covenants 20:75:

"It is expedient that the church meet together often to partake of bread and wine in the remembrance of the Lord Jesus."

The bread and water of the sacrament are for the body and blood of Jesus. The bread is for the body, and the water is for the blood. This helps us remember Jesus and keep his commandments. The Deacons pass the sacrament every Sunday. I’ll become a Deacon when I’m twelve years old. When I pass the sacrament, I’ll be clean, wear clean clothes, and wear a white shirt, and I’ll be reverent. The Deacons in our ward set a great example for me. I would like to bear my testimony. I know the Church is true. I know the Deacons pass the sacrament. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Emily
She talked about helping around the house. It went like this:
My name is Emily and I'm going to talk about helping around the house. I don't like cleaning up my toys that much, but I do like scrubbing, windexing, dusting, vacuuming, and sweeping in other places besides the kitchen. Now I'm going to say a quote by Elder Ballard from the last General Conference:

“Now, you children, please listen to me because there are some simple things you can do to help your mother.
You can pick up your toys when you are finished playing with them, and when you get a little older, you can make your bed, help with the dishes, and do other chores—without being asked.
You can say thank you more often when you finish a nice meal, when a story is read to you at bedtime, or when clean clothes are put in your drawers.
Most of all, you can put your arms around your mother often and tell her you love her.”

It's important to help our parents because it makes them happy and it brings the Spirit into the house. I would like to bear my testimony that I know the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true, Joseph Smith is a prophet, Jesus is the Christ, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Music
Kids sang "Keep the Commandments."

Me
I spoke about keeping a cheerful spirit in our daily lives. I referenced my June Cleaver experiment and how I learned that happiness is not going to seek us and it is our responsibility to seek out happiness. We can have a cheerful spirit by keeping the commandments, smiling (even if you have to force it), and keeping a sense of humor. Cheerfulness promotes physical and spiritual health. When we are healthy, we are fruitful in the Gospel. We should scatter sunshine everywhere we go.

David
He spoke about the father's role in the family. He made the congregation laugh when he talked about us having a large family and that we are only getting started. I think they might have thought he was kidding. The kids were getting a little antsy by the end of his talk and someone described there wandering around on the stand like little butterflies fluttering behind him.

It was a good day. I'm glad to have that over. Now we are good for another 4 years.

More Progress

Before

After

Now what?

I'm making progress

So I was getting the photos off of my camera and unbeknowst to me the kids took pictures of their "Barbie family" yesterday. I'm not sure if they are adopted or if the parents have a highly varied gene pool. It looks like there is some mermaid ancestry and a gene that produces blonde afros (back right.)

I love the naked Kelly sitting on her naked sister's lap.

I'm making progresss. I did miss the blue mini M&M's container in the bottom of the crib. Rachel even sported a smile to express her pleasure of a clutter free resting area.

Confess to the Mess

I know I hinted at it on Monday, but I must officially confess that my house is a mess. I thought I should take the necessary step of admitting there is a problem. I think it might help me to do something about it. Could someone now please write Oprah and tell her a sad little story about a young mother with six kids that is living in squalor and to send Nate Berkus to her house for a home makover? Oh and don't forget to tell her that I need some new stainless steel appliances, but the fake stainless steel that doesn't show little kid fingerprints. Also a front loading washer, new dryer and lifetime supply of Tide would be helpful. And while you're at it, Oprah, throw in a nanny and housekeeper. Thanks!

Here is a crib that somebody gave us that has been sitting in our hall for the past six weeks because it doesn't fit through the doorways and we are missing the correct size allen wrench to take it apart. Meanwhile, it has been collecting clutter. The little black blob sitting on the floor beside it is a small Christmas tree we still need to put in the attic.

Poor baby!

Mommy, there's water on the floor.

This afternoon Emily came to tell me that it was wet in front of the toilet. Since I was aware of the fact that Bradley was the last lavatory occupant I said, "Bradley! Did you pee pee on the floor?" Taking a break from his PBS kids computer gaming he looked at me confused and then avoided eye contact and said, "I don't think so. The toilet might have overflowed a little bit." I sensed guilt and I made my way to the powder room to discover that "overflowed a little bit" was an understatement and that Emily left out the part of walking through a lake of water to get to the toilet. I was mad. Possibly more livid than on Friday night when I found muddy footprints throughout my family room. I yelled, "Stand in the corner! No, go get me some towels!" He obeyed through his tears and brought down my stash of perfectly white towels. Trying not to belittle the the 5 year old boy by screaming, "Not white towels!" (after all he did obey) I asked Emily to go get some older towels and asked Bradley to get the plunger.

Thankfully, my wood floors were saved and the toilet is functioning again. I was sure to give my sweet Bradley an increase in love after the ordeal. I think I'm beginning to accept the fact that I have a 5 year old boy. The great thing about Bradley is that he is super forgiving. The other day while he was reluctantly cleaning up his toys as I barked out orders like a drill sergeant he said, "Mommy, you know what? I love you!"

My attempt at prevention.

Word of the Day

Me: I surrender!

Bradley: Mommy, what does surrender mean?

Me: It means to give up.

Emily: Why are you giving up?

Me: I'm giving up because it's simply madness trying to keep a clean house.

Wendy: Why, Mommy?

Me: *sigh*

Wendy: Mommy, why?

Me: Oh...cause you guys are just crazy.

Wendy: Ohhh tay.

Here is hungry Jason protesting my late start at lunch.

Keep a Journal

A man spoke in church today about keeping journals and how it is important for our posterity to learn who we are. I totally classify my blog as my journal. I believe it paints a pretty good picture of my life. I'm going to print my blog out monthly and stick it in a notebook until I can publish it in a hardbound book. Sure, my blog lacks in spirituality, but I have a set of scriptures that I hope to tatter over the years to prove that I read them and thus am a spriritual person. I think I might actually write my testimony by hand and stick it in my scriptures so that when my grandchildren or perhaps great grandchildren find them they'll know that I had more to talk about than just poopy diapers.

~~~

Today Sarah drew a picture of a woman. She explained that the woman was mad because Sarah wasn't cleaning. Sarah explained that the woman was her mother.

Great! The mean mother picture again.

But then Sarah assured me that it wasn't me. It was her other mother.

"Who is this other mother?"

"Oh, she's my older mother that lives at my friend's house."

Ok. That's cool. I'm glad she's the mean one.

A Pretty Typical Saturday

Today was a good day. The family went to the park. After the park we went to Target. As we got out of the car Bradley said, "I think I left one of my shoes at the park." I knew we weren't going to waste valuable time going back to fetch it so we put the 5 year old in the front of the cart and wheeled him inside. To save time we ate our lunch at Target. We fed the family for $14. What a deal! The only bad thing is that Target does not have the best seating arrangement for large parties. We ate at two separate tables. At the table next to us there was a little girl counting our children. She seemed quite impressed with the amount of kids. We picked out some new shoes for Bradley (the one he lost was too small anyway.) He was pushing to get the size 11, I wanted to get the size 12. I won. The sandals need to last all summer. We shopped for too long, mostly because of the 4 bathroom trips, went home, and I worked on the garden. I got it all prepped for planting. I'm so excited to be growing green bean and cucumbers. We ate pasta for dinner. David bathed the kids and put them to bed while I went to the grocery store. Now I'm exhausted and ready to go to bed. Here is my favorite part of today:

Bloggers must carry a camera at all times.

So that's why...

Now I know why June Cleaver wore shoes in the house. Today found me sewing felt monsters with the kids during toddler naptime. I was on the phone with my mom when I carried the large sewing needle from my kitchen knife magnet to the family room. As I entered the family room I clumsily dropped the needle and stepped directly onto the very pointy end with my barefoot. The immediate pain caused me to drop the the phone. It took me about 3 seconds to comprehend what just happened and shout to the phone, "Hang on, Mom! Aghhhhhh!" Still in some slight shock I grabbed a hold of the needle and pulled out the 1/2 inch of metal that was jabbed into my sole. Not much blood, but a lot of pain. I have a slight limp and I hope I don't start foaming at the mouth. The good news is that it entered right at the acupuncture point for the left ventricle, possibly left atrium and I hope it fixes my irregular heartbeat. We didn't finish the monster for lack of polyester fiberfill. Emily offered to get some from the ottoman cushion, but I politely declined and said we would get some at Walmart. Here is the monster in embryo. I think he resembles Jason Castro from American Idol.

More Joy of Analytics

Another analyzation of keywords that brought visitors to my website. Here are my favorites:

• melinda nip slip - It didn't actually happen
• bigboob schoolgirl - I was never one of those.
• bikinis falling off - I hate it when that happens!
• dehydrated placenta - Mmm. Good food storage!
• girl shoving pepsi can up her butt - Is that possible?
• how big are b cups - I wouldn't know.
• june cleaver naked - Ward!
• mature poop - aka "manure"
• nice butt cheeks - Why, thank you.
• woman poops in elevator reason - I haven't a clue.
• i drank 4 sodas and then drove for 2 hours and i had to go to the bathroom so badly i wet my pants - And what exactly were you expecting to find with that search?

I am most positive that most of those visitors were disappointed with the results of their click.

My June Cleaver Experiment - Conclusion

Does looking and behaving like June Cleaver make me a better housewife and mother?

Yes and no.

Yes, because the whole skirt and pearls thing accentuates my femininity and makes me proud to be a woman. Why not dress up for the most mundane of days? Wearing an apron made it fun to cook.

No, because I still had the urge to yell and scream when my kids got on my nerves. It just doesn't come naturally to me to say, "Oh, Beaver!" with a smile when a child does something completely and utterly stupid that causes a mess or something to break.

In summary, the experiment made me more aware of my own behavior. I do admit that forcing a smile while doing dishes actually did make me happy to do them. I do believe that dressing up for the day made me more productive. The pearls made me look pretty. Now that my experiment is over, I realize I miss my June Cleaver days. I've become a little sloppy with the housework. I've become less attentive toward my demeanor towards my children. I do still wear the skirt and pearls though. Perhaps I should continue on as June Cleaver for a consecutive 21 days to establish a habit and forego the Rosanne Barr experiment.

Revelation

I struggled today as I tried to "live in the moment." I just wanted to ignore my kids and watch my herb garden grow, browse the Internet and talk on the phone. But then I had a revelation. I realized that I already am pretty good at living in the moment. Isn't that what bloggers do - live everyday on the lookout for a bloggable moment? Of course I don't have the patience to record every memory that happens each day, but I do take the time to look for them. In fact just two weeks ago I was mentally selecting the adjectives I would use in my post the next day as I cleaned the vomit-soaked sheets and dinosaur pajamas of a puking 17 month old child at 2:30 in the morning. I never did get around to blogging the next day because I was busy with my parents visiting me, but it was going to go something like this:

"I heard him crying and I knew. I knew it wasn't hunger. I knew it wasn't teething. I knew that I was about to find a puddle of puke. The cry just had that familiar gurgle to it. I reluctantly rolled out of bed as the TV, that I had forgotten to turn off before falling asleep, lit my way with the flickering tail end of the Carson Daly show. I walked pass the baby crib, thankful that the baby was still asleep, and made my way to the boy's room. Yep! There was the dinner remnants I had envisioned spewed on his blue gingham jersey cotton crib sheet. I placed him in the tub and washed the ebony colored beans and undigested rice from his hair and neck crevices. Then I took him to my room and sprawled an old ugly blanket on top of my bed and then instinctively held a towel in front of him for the hurl that was about to occur. Finally, after performing a surgeon scrub down, the boy and I slept uncomfortably the rest of the night. "

So, yeah, I'm living in the moment. I'm a blogger.

Living in the Moment

My "living in the moment" seemed to have failed today. The problem is that I have six little moments to try to live in simultaneously. In my moment with Emily and Bradley this morning while watching a Nat Geo program on super volcanoes, three other little moments were getting into the fridge fetching American Cheese and sucking on hard boiled eggs, complete with shell. Many of my moments find me wiping hineys, changing diapers, and sweeping up elbow macaroni. Hmmm ... This is a challenge, but I won't give up. Here is a visual of the effects of "living in the moment" today:

Is it worth it?

Here are a couple of "living in the moment" memories:

This morning Sarah drew a picture of "a princess jumping on a jumpoline."

"Do you mean trampoline, Sarah?"

"No. She doesn't like trampolines. She likes jumpolines."

~~~~

We've been doing a lot of yard work the past couple of weeks. The kids like to pretend that they are peasants and working in the fields. This evening I was holding baby Rachel and Emily noticed a booger in Rachel's nose. With an approaching finger toward the obstructed nostril Emily said, "Let me pick that for you, Rachel. I am your servant."

Now if only they could've enjoyed playing "peasant" and "servant" when I asked them to clean up the playroom.

Spiritual Comedy

I love General Conference weekend! I love having two Sunday's a year to sleep in and not worry about bathing the kids, curling hair, tying sashes, finding my church shoes, packing diaper bags. There were some good talks too - a lot of talks about strengthening the family, improving our prayers, and just improving ourselves in general. Elder Rasburn even said "Titicaca."

We sustained our new First Presidency. I have to say I really missed hearing the congregation chuckle at President Hinkley's funny remarks. But President Monson pulled through in his last talk at the end of the fourth session. He was successful at making a joke from a story about his wife being in a coma just two months ago. Ahh...such good Mormon humor. General Conference never fails to have some leader make a comment about being old followed by the congregation laughing. Getting old is hilarious.

My favorite talk was Elder Ballard's. He counseled to not watch soap operas, but no mention of Oprah. He counseled not to over schedule to avoid feeling like taxi drivers. He counseled us to "live in the moment" and not always be in a hurry. Amen! Easier said than done, but that is my goal this week. I am going to spend time with my kids this week and soak in the joy while mentally recording the details and not worrying about what I have to get done. He also counseled to abstain from any substance abuse that we might think we need to be more productive with our activities. Gasp! Is he referring to Diet Coke? Line upon line, precept upon precept. This week I'm working on spending time with my kids until I can further clarify "substance."

Happy Birthday, Emily!

Her requested chocolate donut cake with sprinkles.

Perhaps this year she will grow into her arms.

Our Little Frankenstein

I Frankensteined My Kid

Our family decided to do some work in the yard in preparation for gardening season when my husband came home from work this evening. Excited about digging out old plants and prepping for our anticipated lush garden of abundant vegetable crops, I dug up an old woody Lantana bush while Daddy was doing a science experiment with the kids of finding out what happens when you place a slug among a colony of fire ants. As I worked at the stubborn roots, I was thinking to myself how fortunate we had been that all five walking kids weren't gravitating to the perilous street and were staying very close to where we were working. That same moment Jason entered within a shovel's length from me just as I lost control of my digging, causing the blade of my shovel to hit him right between the eyes. Panicked and not knowing exactly where the shovel hit his face, I reluctantly picked him up to assess the damage. Blood was everywhere, dripping into his eyes and onto his clothes. My husband remained strong throughout the ordeal, while Jason and I cried. After cleaning him up, my husband took him to the emergency clinic with my oldest daughter, who recently told me that she definitely does not want to be a doctor that cuts people open. The trauma is over, and the good news is that he's fine and with all the commotion I didn't have to cook dinner, and instead relied on the Burger King to feed us. Jason will go down in the books as the first kid in the family to get stitches because his mom accidentally whacked him in the head with a shovel.

Oh, and fire ants don't care for slugs too much. They're too sticky.

Uncle Sam is Calling

Ok. I have to bite the bullet and do my taxes. I'll be back.

Food Storage Campaign

As the unofficial Food Storage Specialist in my ward, every Spring I launch an annual food storage campaign. This year I am hosting a sort of Dear Abby column where members of the ward can email me their food storage questions. The column is called "Dear Holy Cow." Since today's question regarding sugar is so important, I thought I would share it with the world.

Dear Holy Cow,

How much sugar should I store?

Sincerely,
High on Sweets

Dear High on Sweets,

Provident Living no longer officially recommends how much sugar to store. However, it formerly recommended 60 pounds per person per year. Sugar is not essential for survival, but it does provide enjoyment and helps to make some foods more palatable. If you take medicine on a daily basis, I recommend storing at least one spoonful per pill.

Sugars you should consider storing are white sugar, brown sugar, powdered sugar, honey, syrup, corn syrup, candy, and marshmallows. Recent studies show that marshmallows have a tremendously long shelf life. Also due to the current wheat shortage we can expect to see more shelf space in our grocery stores devoted to rice based cereals such as Rice Krispies and Special K, thus making marshmallows the perfect sugar to store. It is recommended to store at least 40 lbs. of marshmallows per person per year. A #10 can holds approximately 2 lbs. of marshmallows. A 6 gallon bucket holds approximately 15 lbs of marshmallows. Marshmallows can be stored in Mylar bags, however, they most likely won’t retain their fluffy shape and you should plan to use marshmallows stored in Mylar bags for recipes that require melting them such as Rice Krispie Treats.

It’s up to you whether to store the miniature or regular size marshmallows. The mini marshmallows grow better in our southern climate. Large marshmallows grow better in the northern climates in states such as New York and Pennsylvania. It is hidden knowledge that marshmallows, when planted, grow spectacular, lush trees with beautiful lavender and fragrant blooms. It is thought that these trees resemble those that were once grown in the Garden of Eden. Try planting one this spring. It usually takes 7-14 days to germinate indoors. Once the plant receives it’s second set of leaves it is ready to plant outside. It usually takes a marshmallow tree 2-3 years to produce fruit. The fruit is ready to harvest in early winter, the perfect time to put them in the hot chocolate you made from your powdered milk.

Hope this information helps!

Sincerely,
April Fool

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.