Why I'm Not Posting

Angela wanted to mention that she hasn't been posting because she's going to a

Wedding in Washinton (say that ten times fast) ,so frantically preparing to go

Out of town to see her best friend from highschool get married (and have alone time with Jesse at a very nice B&B on the water.)

Lots to do, "see" you soon! ~Shangrila <3

Sweet Jebus and Other Deities

Is it really taking a name in vain to exclaim, disbelieving, in response to a difficult situation? Don't answer that. I already know.

Truly, when I say, "Christ on a crutch!" I am asking for help just as surely as I cried for my mother during childbirth. Today the kids and I painted, finally dragging out the easel and paintbox after a week of artistic sloth and my living room may never be the same again. Yes, I did sit down right at the top of the stairs with the toddler to paint while his siblings chose their colors and spread out across the room. But Walky has red paint in his hair and down his cheek, and after I took his diaper off (don't ask) he somehow SAT in the paint (think "butt-rainbow") after which of course he stepped in green paint. He picked up his empty red cup and I could see the wheels turning in his head as he looked down at his penis, then back at the cup. Yep, cup on the penis! Wow. Two points for making the toss to the sink.

Then he stepped on his sister's artwork.

Then his sister slid the box of baby-wipes onto her paint palette. Then she slid the box across my carpet. Blue carpet. That's hot.

Walker now has his finger buried to the hilt in his nose. Dear Jesus, Zeus, Allah, Mother, ANYONE...send me patience, and please ignore all the swearing.

RTT: Tuesday Titles

Wildlife Encounters

Last week, as I left my house at 2:30am to get to my sister before she gave birth, I was shocked to see a huge deer standing just a few feet away on my lawn. By the time my brain registered "deer" it was gone in a flash of tail over my hedge, it's hooves clattering down the road. I was crazy vigilant as I drove to the freeway, thinking, "Where the hell do deer live in Brooklyn Park?!"

A few days later, during an early morning potty-run with Katie, I noticed a baby robin in the long grass beside my garden. I tried to shoo it away, as Dom loves hunting, but the poor little thing just tried to run deeper into the grass (and failed.) Thinking he'd run like hell, I reached over and picked him up. He was fine until I lifted him up-then he screamed, "PEEP-PEEP-PEEP-PEEP! I carefully placed him as high as I could on the branch of a tree and then watched his brothers and sisters practice attempts at hang-gliding awhile before going inside.

I'm Totally Screwed

This morning Walker climbed into my bed already covered in black marker. I gently reminded him that coloring on anything but paper is naughty. "Why?" "Because it makes mama and daddy feel sad and angry when you color on our things." "Why?" Well, crap.

My daughter just informed me that the baby told her, "Shut up, Stupidhead!" WTF?! Not okay!

My Head is an Empty Room

I'm having difficulty thinking randomly. I can't tell if I'm feeling peaceful or completely refusing to deal with reality. I keep trying to concentrate and am rewarded with white noise. Not good, Bob, not good!

My Children Could Nag the Leg Off a Mule

I am being worn down by the constant, "Mom?! Mom, can I play Neopets? Mama? Hey, mom, I really wanna play Neopets. When can I play Neopets? Hunh, Mama? Hunh?! Mama!" that my son is dishing out. I give.

While I'm eating Butter Pecan ice cream for lunch, visit Keely. Or I'll send Westie to pester you until you do.

Spin Cycle: Day In The Life

I'd like to say that I'm the kind of mom, nay, the kind of woman, that runs her life in a smooth and regimented way. Sadly, this just isn't so. I blame it on the hippie artists I fell in with. :p

On a typical day:

I wake up when a) my husband crawls over me to get up or b) my boys climb into bed with me, lugging an army of Pokemon guys. If I was clever enough to bring a diaper and wipes into my room the night before (usually not a problem) I change Walker and play with the boys until a) my bladder screams at me or b) Katie's bladder makes her bark and do the potty dance. Sissy lolls around in bed reading until I call her to please take Katie outside. I head to the bathroom, fending off little boys (with help from a locked door) long enough to change, wash up, shove my hair on top of my head, etc. Somewhere during all of this, West will holler, "Mama?! Can we have fruit snacks?!" and I'll holler back, "Only if you get some for your brother and eat them at the table!" Peace reigns for 3.7 minutes.

I get upstairs in time for my husbands first call of the day. This is only the first of many calls that I will receive from my beloved over the course of the day. He'll say, "Just making sure you were up!" I'll say, "Yep, I'm up." We'll make small-talk for a few minutes, he'll give up and get back to work. I'll make the kids breakfast-usually French toast or waffles, fruit and milk. (My kids'll only eat one kind of cereal: Peanut Butter Spheres. They can't market them as peanut butter balls, because then they'd sound like Chef on South Park.) On a good day, I'll grab a protein drink or Bolthouse Chai but really, it's too damn early for me to eat. I feed the cats and Katie their canned food and tell West to drink his milk.

Most days, we snap on PBS (oh thank you, Jesus, for PBS!) in time for Sesame Street and maybe even Dragon Tales. I pull up the internet on my laptop and read or post blogs. This is it, peoples. That's all the time I can promise you, although I may stop back around the time that I should be sleeping. During this time, I'll field another call or two from my husband ("I just wanted to hear your voice." "I'm on break." "How's your day going?") and several whiny, "Mama?! Can I play my DS?"es. I will misspell tomorrow (tomarrow) and drive myself crazy.

At this point I normally take Katydid out again and putz in the yard while she does her business. I pull weeds and corral toys and love on my plants:









At 12ish, I slap lunch together (typically pb sandwiches and a veggie-a Lean Pocket for me) before changing the baby, hunting down a Nukie and putting him down for a nap. He'll generally start with, "No! No nigh-nigh time!" and end with gratefully snuggling into his pillow. I kick the kids outside, or let them do some kind of art or play DS or a computer game. Jesse comes home for lunch and I generally touch base with my mom and sisters in a flurry of phonecalls.

When Walker wakes up, we could do most anything: Head to my mom's, where the kids take turns pushing the buttons for the elevator, or run errands:



or play at the park:



or hang out with friends:



At the end of the day, Jesse and I take turns making dinner and taking care of bedtime The boys go to bed first most nights, as Sissy is allowed to stay up "late" every other night. I lay in Westie's bed and read stories and the kids take turns picking songs for me to sing, usually "Over in the Meadow" and Grover's "Wubba Wubba" song. Then we say the same prayer we've said since Sissy was born: "Thank you, God, for this day. Bless me, and everyone who loved and took care of me today. Amen."

I make the sign of the cross on each child's forehead and say, "You are my beloved. On you my favor rests." I walk to the door and say "Good night, sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite. If they do, whack 'em with a shoe, then they'll cry, 'Boo-hoo!' Mama loves you." I shut the door.

For the rest of the night, I clean, watch Gilmore Girls with Winter or a movie with Jes', shower, some nights blog or water my plants until well after the sun has gone down. Typing this out, I'm reminded that I've got a pretty damn good life. Routinely, even.

For more posts about routines, head to The Spin Cycle!

(P.S. If anyone knows how to make my pictures fit on this @#*!ing blog without changing my layout or cutting and pasting from the top of the blog where the "add a picture" blog feature keeps loading the damn things, for the love of God, tell me!)

I'm An Auntie Again!

My youngest sister just gave birth to her second child (let's call him "Nugget") and we are all thrilled! He was born 7/13/09 at 4:25am, 7 lb 4.4oz and 19.5". Welcome to the world, baby! We love you!

The Rambunctious Penii

First of all, this isn't as exciting as it sounds.

I refrained from writing about it because, well, because I generally only rant about this kind of stuff to my mother.

But then, Mrs. Jelly Belly asked and I thought, "Well, why the hell not?!"

My youngest son, Walker Cash, has a talent that I'd never heard of before he joined our family. He can, at any time, pee out of his diaper. Now mind you, after MULTIPLE instances of him standing up in his crib and peeing all over his bedding, or walking upstairs and accidentally peeing on his little feet I check his diapers for gaps EVERY TIME I DIAPER HIM. So what gives? Well, I'll tell you...

His little peenee* somehow sneaks out of the leg hole of his Pampers and lays there against his leg, open to the cool refreshing breeze and more than willing to christen anything lower than his groin with tinkle. It's infuriating and adorable all at the same time. My son is darling (if I do say so myself) with red-gold curls and big grey eyes and a rosy pout. Add a cute wayward penis, his signature glower and arms held out for help and he's absolutely irresistible. Unless you haven't had enough children to be immune to urine.

Despite that, some days I just do not want that extra load of laundry, to negotiate the extra bath, to re-mop that part of the floor...you get my drift. (And) then I wail and gnash my teeth to my mother, crying variations of, "What the hell?! Why me?!" She told me that he must have a rambunctious peenee. I don't know why I made up a plural form. Probably pee poisoning.

* I have always referred to body parts by their "real" names. I have no idea why I always think, "Peenee" when Walk's privates go public. Maybe I just think "Teeny" and "Penis" all at once. He's not going to appreciate this post when he's grown, is he?! Yeah, well...payback's a bitch! LOL :p

Random Tuesday Thoughts: "What?! I have to put clothes on?"

I've had lots of great ideas for blog posts: The Rambunctious Penii, Reckless Cat Abandonment and 1,000 Ways to Avoid Doing Something Useful. Clearly, I chose not to write about them.

I just told my sister how to pilfer a resume' format.

It's 11:58am and I still haven't combed my hair or gotten dressed. How bad would it be to go outside to set up the sprinkler in my nightgown?

I think that my cellphone has fallen into my recliner (because my chair is vibrating. But not like good vibrating.)

My sister just told me that she paid $90.00 to have the rug in her very small LR cleaned. She is freaking high.

People keep fucking calling me. Leave me alone, peoples! Okay, not really. Could we work out some kind of call schedule, though? Because I'm not getting a damn thing done...

except laundry. I've been doing laundry for three days and I'm STILL not done. Stupid laundry.

My lilies are blooming, I cut a huge rose from one of our bushes last night and my dahlias are budding, but taking their damn sweet time about it. My back lawn is attempting to go native and looks like a meadow just now.

I have to go 52-pick-up the house, put on a bra and take my babies outside. Head on over to Miss Keely's for more RTT. :)