8-24-06

Did I ever mention that my 2 1/2 year old licks the towel when he’s done washing his hands? Nasty right? Well this weekend while we were camping (I mean that loosely we had a cabin with air, shower and toilet) he brought his Aunt and I a plastic cup filled with water. “Mmmm”, he said lapping at his lips. I thought where did he get that? I don’t think he can reach the sink… Well people I don’t think you have to be Nancy Drew to crack this whodunit. I really wanted my sister in law to lie to me about where he retrieved the sparkling libation (actually I demanded she lied to me, there was a bit (teeny bit) of screaming…) but it was written all over her face (neon lighted even). Anyway it’s been about five days since that incident and I’m getting near him again (I’m not running away anymore like Michael Myers is chasing me (not the Austin Powers, the Halloween…although he can be quite frightening with those teeth). Actually today I let him hold my hand while we went for a walk …until… the fire hydrant… As I scream and gag at the same time trying to explain to him that “sucking on it wont get you anything” he looks over at me grins gives it one more lick then skips off…Yucky poo-poo, I sigh…until… the next fire hydrant (really must there be so many of them!)…

8-16-06

Remember the new hose attachment for my backyard hose? Well my husband also purchased one for the front. So am I totally shocked that this morning as my three kids and I were trying to rush out to take my oldest to soccer that the 2 year old took us hostage with the tsunami mode on the hose? No I guess I shouldn’t be. I shielded my seven year old daughter from the direct hit (the kids got no problem with aim now) which left me drenched (I wish I was exaggerating). We made it back inside slamming, the door as he pummeled us, laughing the entire time. My 14 year old made it behind the van; he had to save us because now my daughter and I were trapped inside. I screamed at the two year old through the glass window in the door but this just seemed to excite him more as he sprayed at me, shaking with amusement. I watched as my oldest stalked him with slow movements ready to overtake the little bugger. But oh no the two year old was on to him, he turned at the exact moment of attack and targeted my eldest sending him running, then he turned back to me to spray at me through the glass. Finally I guess the right amount of high pitched wails(coming from my now sore throat) kept him distracted enough for him to be over thrown, stripped from his crown and deflated he bowed his head in defeat and stomped off. Riding in the car with my underwear meshing to my skin is a great way to start any day.

8-15-06

As I sit outside on a beautiful cloudless day, reading my new highly anticipated novel, my 2 year old watering the thirst deprived plants with the new hose attachment, I find myself humming to the weather gods. He looks so angelic my blond boy misting the yard and I’m reading away. It’s like something out of a Rockefeller portrait. WHAM! Gasping for air, water is pounding away at my tone svelte body (ha-ha). My sweet bambino is attacking me! He has change the setting from mist to TIDAL WAVE! As I push my way through the skin removing stream I grab the hose and I … take a breath… I pull myself together … I’m alright… laser resurfacing is expensive; I’ve just saved possible thousands…I turn the hose on the little hellion and use full power. Let’s just say the laughing from his tiny mouth stopped very suddenly. I set down the hose to survey the damage. Book is sopping, I am sopping, now baby is sopping… great now more to do but I chuckle inside, I got the little turkey. I now head for the door and… Sweet Baby Ray’s he’s got the WMI (weapon of mass irrigation) again. The cackles coming from him are definitely something from “The Exorcist” (I swear I saw his head spin too.) Crap… I lean left… then fake back … twisting to avoid the onslaught of spray… I jump… I dive… breathing hard I make it to the door where just as I open it his aim has improved (let’s just say he’d win the kewpie doll). I’m down, struggling to get the door close before the family room is covered in flood! As I shut the door panting as if I just ran the Boston marathon, he appears at he door soaking and sobbing no more chuckles, his big wet blue eyes look up at me like a lost puppy, I look down at him … stick out my tongue and walk away… settle down I’m more mature than that… I let him in, trying not to strangle him as I dry him off… see I’m a grown up calm down…

7-31-06

I had to run to the bank on Saturday I asked my daughter if she’d like to go with me, “boring but ok.” We ran to the bank and then I told her she could pick out lunch. She wasn’t really thrilled but I pulled the car over to discuss all our choices. I ran through all the fast food options ( if you go down the secret hallway in each fast food joint you will find the wee lettered poster with all the nutritious facts of each and every item that these exceptional places offer). Taco bell…maybe… McDonalds…I hate their burgers... Beef Villa…no way... Chicken…alright. Okay Popeye’s or KFC? The one with the picture of the face… are you sure last time you didn’t like that as much, let’s drive by Popeye’s see if that is the one first. We drive by and she said no not his one. I say they have biscuits too… no, no, no. So I drive another 82 miles (not that far but not next door either) to KFC. We pull up and she says that this is the place. I get in line, 2 cars in front and one pulls right in behind me. I turn to her with a smile and say “ok, what kind of chicken do you want?” She gives me a disgusted 7 year old look and says “I don’t want chicken… I just want a biscuit.” Ugh…

7-25-06

In my haste to tell the story of “The Negligent Other Half” I missed some important factors. First the litter box is a covered box… “He” put the liner in but omitted the key kitty ingredient… cat sand. Secondly (and most importantly), he seemed to miss out on all the “tidying up.” You know picking up and disposing of all the prize presents left behind and scrubbing the “essence” out of the upholstered chair. Lastly (maybe even more importantly) have I received any sort of commendation for my efforts through this trying time? Um? Perhaps praise? Some sort of trinket? Well people if I had I would not be straining my hand, typing away, still telling on the f*&^%$# fellow now would I?

7-24-06

Friday morning I went to the basement to start laundry and right at the base of the stairs … cat poop. I hollered (aren’t I cute) up to my husband “one of the cats had an accident on the carpet.”(Actually there were a lot of curse words but I’m going for the PG rating) My husband says he just changed their litter last night, a few more exchanges of words and I chalk it up to a fluke, but Saturday the same thing downstairs on the carpet, kitty dookie. Now we have two cats and I don’t know who’s doing it so I tell the kids to be alert be aware of all the cats movements (ha- ha movements). Anyway all Saturday nothing else. Of course I go to work Sunday morning and can they (I really mean “him”) keep things in check (no). First I get a call that the baby spilled something on the floor and put a towel on it. Then it’s a call with it may be cat pee. Last it’s a call saying “he”(the husband)couldn’t smell anything but has my 14 year old put his nose in it to check( at this point I can still hear my teen in the background gagging… verifying it’s the puss’s pee!) Okay now what’s up? One of the cat’s is sick it’s gonna cost me an arm and a leg to fix it, etc., and etc. First thing when I get home I don’t stress it, except for the fact that the piss covered towel is sitting in the sink…SITTING IN THE SINK!? All day…What!? “Well I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do with it” … “Oh you must be clairvoyant because I wanted you to leave it in the sink until the fairies come and carry it off!”(Jac*&ss). We will just eat dinner and my investigation can start later (no stressing). So after dinner, after scrubbing the sink, after starting the laundry, after doing the baths, I sat down to discuss the tinkle trouble. The family tells me she (we still don’t know which one) peed under the chair that I am occupying. I say I can still smell it, I rewashed the floor, but as I sat there I kept sniffing (which my family felt was quite amusing). I could not stand it any longer so I took apart the room smelling everything but I came right back to the chair. At that moment I was praying I was wrong but I started smelling the chair (not a folding chair, not a dining room chair not a fisher price plastic chair, my new upholstered chair) … I wasn’t wrong... she Pissed in the chair…The freakin’ chair I was sitting in! My eye began to twitch (I thing I may implode) but I hold it together (I know most of you are shocked, trust me I’m shocked). I clean the crud out of the chair and realize that one of the cats must be really sick. Sleep beckons I must retire, so we all pass out…and it was event free all night until I open my eye (just one) to see my 7 year old daughter standing above me declaring she won’t go downstairs because the cat pooped on the chair… I think she’s very funny I cleaned it up last night and it was pee not poop ha-ha… eyes closing again…“but it’s disgusting!” Please be a joke…I drag my limp body from bed… downstairs I go… crabby tired seeping from every part of me…I walk right into… the newly defecated crime scene! … NOOOOOO! I pick up the phone and began to scream expletives at my husband through the phone. Oh my god…I’m going to strangle the cats … why me …cat pee smells worse that sewage… come home and clean this up…cats are Satan’s friends(little ears look like horns right?)…why me … get home now…I’m calling the guys that clean up after CSI… After I hang up (I’m very harmonious at this point, no worries) I call the vet and beg for some miracle to make her stop. She says that they could run extensive tests (meaning sell an organ if you want help $$$$) but it may not tell us anything (you’re screwed). Basically separate the cats and watch them (ohhh like watching paint dry) is my cheapest choice. I head down to the basement to start laundry (Desperate housewife huh? more like desolate housewife.) Sadly there is more cat dung at the bottom of the stairs… I am going to snap, break, and crack. I decide to check their litter (before heading out to purchase another litter box and 903 yards of plastic wrap) for perhaps spiders nest or some sort of gremlin hiding in the covered box. As I lift the lid off the box my worst fears come true… a small family of rats, no, angry biting Brazilian beetles, no… much more terrifying… my masterful husband DID NOT PUT LITTER IN THE BOX! He, him, *^&%&^%&^&, no litter… GOD &^&^%^$% son of **^&^%%$%8768 …What the*^&& %& … I’m going to kill… revenge… retribution will be MINE!!...*dramatic pause* … (insert menacing music)… Oh, he’s home now I need to go leave a special surprise in his car…

4-26-06

I am not much of an outdoorsy person but my children and I have started these little adventures. By our house there is a school, behind the school there are some woods, and in these woods is a creek and some paths (quick note: we are in suburbia not some rustic backwoods). So we found a rough path and decided to “dive in” and take us wherever it lead us. This first time we ventured, I guess we had traveled about 4 minutes in (I told you not much of a Davey Crockett) and we had had enough and were trying to turn around and find our way back. My six year old was frantic thinking we were lost. I assured her we were fine and even when she saw civilization again she believe we had stumbled across a new town (also not raising outdoorsy children either.)Of course it was just where we had entered. But today we were going to be braver. So off we went. on this trip it was Me, my 14 year old niece , my six year old, and my two year old. We headed to the familiar path as before. This time it had a lot more over growth and it was hard to make out the pink ties around the trees (Oh I didn’t mention them… I’m not Magellan either.) So we are deep into the wild when I hear a splashing noise behind me, I jump and turn. I see a fish! A real fish like the kind people fish for, a real live fishing fish! He was convulsing about in the shallow water, confused and disoriented (As you can see I immediately connected with him…. Or her) I knew he (she) needed to be saved. The kids looked on as you would with any wild beast that you come upon in the …wild. Big eyes stared down upon him (her). All the while I was deciding what needed to be done for this heroic rescue that I was about to embark on. What measures are necessary? I ponder. He (She) corrects himself (herself) in the water and heads for deeper area (I breathe a sigh; I mean what was I going to do anyway, this is some uncivilized creature!) I explain to the children that the fish has a natural ability to rectify his (her) dilemma and I, a human, would just have aggravated the situation (full of it, right?) Again as we wind our way back to the populous, my six year old is once again surprised that we made it (I need to get her out more.)

4-4-06

Well it has taken me a little while but I now have my house covered in saran wrap (eat your heart out Grandma!). Older people had the right idea all along encasing their treasured floral couches in plastic. So what if in the summer you have to peel your butt off the sweaty artificial canvas or in the winter you slide off the icy cool overlay, I can wipe it down with a paper towel, bleach, or a power washer if I want. Puke away because now I have acquired an official CDC (center for disease control) suit. Splatter me people I am prepared! It is difficult to relax on a plastic bed but clean up is a snap. Stay tuned to you local cable access channel for my inexpensive ideas for your family. Ideas like, how to not freak out every time someone sneezes (I have consulted with the top psychologists from around the globe), 101 ways to get that aroma out of you nasal cavities (some may freak you out and are painful but you will thank me later), the history of stains (riveting topic filled with all sorts of stain combinations you have never imagined), what to pack in an emergency kit if you need to run away fast ( one hint: consult your local bank for exchange rates), and much more! Stay tuned…

4-01-06

10:20p.m Friday, I am again covered in upchuck; my two- year old has once again heaved. Coating himself, his bed, and me with a concoction only worthy of the million dollar Fear Factor ($50,000 dollars way too cheap and the million may not even be enough with as much as they take out in taxes and all). Oh and I’m not talking about eating it, I’m saying just smelling it is worth the big cash. Anyway back to stripping the bed, stripping us, and to the bath and again we lie down. Now I’m completely paranoid to fall asleep, afraid to be awoken by you know what god knows where. So I lie there like a pretzel stick, eyes bugging out waiting. I must have finally shut an eye when the baby starts a musical array of noise from his backside. The odor, oh the odor, well my wish came true I wasn’t cleaning vomit any longer. The morning has come, many diaper changes have passed and some of the dead are moving around again. This is when I think maybe I should fake illness just to get away (I’ve had three kids I am a champion vomiter, I’m not exaggerating I have a plaque).I could fake them out, have them cater to my every whim, and hide in the bathroom if I just want to get away (this is pitiful). I mean hanging out in the bathroom alone ranks right up there with a trip to Aruba? Unfortunately …yes. As of yet I have not fallen ill fake or otherwise, so laundry must continue on and I must stay here (trust me I thought of running away too, but no money, no gold doubloons to barter, no jewelry to hock, I’d be an easy target of the mean streets, staying put is my only option).

3-31-06

My two year old puked every 20 to 40 minutes early Wednesday morning. He wouldn’t heave into a bucket only a towel would work, this was a long night. He felt better during the day on Wednesday and I felt beat (also I broke a record at the water company; laundry, laundry, and laundry). Thursday was lovely birds chirping, warm weather, clear skies, an occasional odor permeated from my young ones backside (but hey no vomit!), things were looking good. I swear we were all floating around, happiness encasing our bodies. Bedtime came, the children passed out from a full day, my daughter was in our bedroom. Her hair was covering her serene face; I decided to lie down beside her. She became uncomfortable squirming around and then sat up looked right at me… and projectile vomited into my freshly scrubbed face! Two seconds of shock then survival mode, drag her to the bathroom, scrub my face, strip the bed, and strip off our clothes, all the while trying not to upchuck from the smell of death (McDonald’s cheeseburger and fries). Since she had already marked me I decided to stay with her throughout the night. She like her little brother was about every 20 to 40 minutes but she would use a bucket (still she already had caused a new laundry fiasco with the first regurgitation). But it was at 4:00a.m that I knew I would be really tested. She woke up to retch again this time my eyes barely opened as I helped her. After settling her down I looked at the clock, 4:07 a.m. and prayed to make it to 5:00a.m at this same moment I heard a vibrating powerful explosion come from the hall bath. My fourteen year old had succumbed to this puking madness! Now he had made it to the bathroom (good going guy) and even the toilet but because he is bigger and more competitive (always trying to out do), he sprayed the area with this powerful blow-up. So now I was scrubbing the commode at four in the morning. Crawling back to bed, sleep hit me and I don’t think I heard a noise again until around 6:50a.m (spoiled I am). This noise was in stereo (believe me I wish I was joking) hallway bathroom and downstairs bathroom, my fourteen year was on his second round but now he was joined by a new contender my husband…As I write this at Friday 8:14p.m I have yet fallen to this illness but my body still worn from 426 loads of laundry, toilet washing, and etc. (there’s a lot of etc. but I can’t think because of lack of sleep) I wonder is it good karma or bad karma that I haven’t gotten sick….