There's a Chocolate Ring Around my Bathtub!

Do not take your eyes off the little ones for even one second.

Obviously it is not enough to just be in the house with them.

Someone wanted chocolate milk. Someone wasn't willing to wait for or even ask mom. Someone got out a jug of milk and the large container of powdered chocolate milk mix. Someone took the large container of chocolate milk powder and dumped it all over the baby who happened to be playing happily in the middle of my pile of clean laundry at the time.



The older Someone - because No One copped to it - got sent to her room and baby ended up in the bath. The younger someone who may or may not have joined in the powdering of the baby is going through a streaking phase. I dress him several times a day before I just finally give up and just turn up the thermostat.

After lunch when I put the baby down for a nap, I gave his neck a nuzzle and found a very sweet spot behind his left ear. Tasted like chocolate . . .

Invaders From the Planet SadieBug

Yesterday we were invaded. I am not quite sure how it happened, I turned my back for one second to change a poopy diaper and then there it was - an alien! Or at least, that is what she said she was, an alien. She had the antennae to prove it too.

The alien ran around the house causing all sorts of mischief as most aliens are wont to do. I had to be very careful not to become too inattentive or else this very opportunistic alien would find something to get into trouble with.

I had to stick my head in the dishwasher to find the model number so I could order a part to fix it with. While on the phone with the appliance store and trying to read the label which was applied sideways, the alien created a snowstorm! White shreds of toilet paper all over the livingroom. The boys were amazed -what a magical alien, an alien who can create white snowdrifts in the livingroom! They helped to turn the white stuff into even smaller shreds.

Little baby Nathan has been fighting an awful diaper rash for days and requires frequent baking soda baths to help soothe his poor offended skin. During bath time, the magical alien changed the color of the carpet - to glittery red gluey formerly green plush. This was after she created a special pool of hair creme for whatever alien rituals a creative alien such as herself would need a pool of hair creme to perform.

I found toys in the vaporizer in the baby's room. Most of the water from the vaporizer had mysteriously vanished from the holding tank and rematerialized in various areas, namely the top of the dresser and the floor. Sneaky alien. Apparently she needed parts for some alien invention too, because the cover to the tank and the vapor vent are now missing.

The alien joined us for dinner and enjoyed a hearty meal of Ratatouille and wild rice. She ate large helpings of tropical fruit salad. Afterward she performed gravity defying feats involving bouncing on the couch. The alien must have been too tired to return to whatever planet she came from because she fell asleep on the floor in the doorway to the little boys' bedroom.

This morning the alien woke up and must have returned home. When I put the boys in the van to make our Tuesday preschool run, the alien was gone and all I found was Sadie, sitting on the floor putting on her shoes.

She didn't even say goodbye . . .

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling - Keep those Wagons Rolling!

I've had a few people ask me if I ever got the van back. When we last met - the dealership was holding the van hostage for mass quantities of homemade Minestrone. Okay, so I made that part up, but you have to admit it sounded ever so much better than they were too busy to get around to it and so took a really long time to get it done.

Really - it was only a day or two, or a week and a half longer than a month without my primary source of transportation. Was the wait worth it? Well - I kind of miss the lime green splotch of spray paint on the back helping me differentiate which identical green soccer mom minivan was mine in the parking lot at Walmart. However - I have to say it looks pretty darn spiffy and immediately pressed it back into service.

The evening I picked it up though - it didn't look or feel quite like what I remembered. The seat was not as comfy as it use to be. Probably because I was a little out of practice, it took a few days - but me and the seat are kindred spirits once again. The front end looked very odd to me and I couldn't figure what was wrong with it at first (aside from missing the big pink splotch of craft paint and not being completely caved in). The next morning it occurred to me - I use to have a bug deflector! This was literally about the only thing on the front of the van that did not break in the collision. I went back the next day to the dealership to a) retrieve my Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness ribbon car magnet, b) inquire as to where I was supposed to attach my front license plate to (new bumper - no mounting bracket) and c) request my bug deflector be reattached. I suppose I should not have been surprised to find they had tossed the deflector, said "oh yeah" about the license plate and had stuck my magnet to the wall in their shop. I mean, these are after all the people who gave me a set of keys to a loaner vehicle clearly marked "Chrysler Sebring" on the tag and actually belonged to a vehicle clearly marked "Dodge Stratus". I pointed out that their loaner vehicle was having a bit of an identity crisis and they just shrugged and said "it's the same thing - they're both white." Uh - okaaaaayyyyyy . . .

Oh the pain in having to hand over the keys to my newly reacquired van for more work! Since I had to take it back in - I asked if they would also replace the back window motor. Might as well get it fixed too right? They had four days before the scheduled appointment fully knowing what the van was coming in for. They dropped me and the two littlest boys off at Walmart, I told them I had to have it back in 2 hours and 15 minutes in order to be on time to pick up my daughter. Two hours and ten minutes after being dropped off, they call me on my cell phone and say they are ready and on their way to pick us up. I wait for 20 minutes and am now late for Sadie. (whose preschool teacher probably seriously wonders if I know how to tell time since we are usually always late). They finally show up with the van and I note two things right off the bat - there is no bug deflector on the front and my front license plate is still on the dashboard. They did nothing! They didn't order the deflector, a mounting bracket OR a window motor in preparation. I ended up having to take it back in again after the parts they required holding my van for 2 hours and 10 minutes while I wandered aimlessly around Walmart with two small children to order finally came in. With parts in hand - it took them one hour and five minutes flat to get it all done, including ferrying me and the kids back and forth between the dealership and Walmart (which are only about half a block away across the street from each other). I suppose I could have saved a fair amount of time waiting had I just walked - though the task of crossing a large busy street and then pushing up a fairly good sized hill 2 kids in a double stroller with all our groceries and dragging a 4 year old along all by my weency lonesome seemed a tad bit daunting. There was also the slushy snowy stuff all over the place issue as well. My double is a great ride - but it is not an all terrain double. Plus, I am still kind of limping around on the mangled foot and hopelessly out of shape - so that also kind of spoiled any thoughts of fresh air and exercise right there. Those who know me also know that my theory on exercise is pretty much this - I don't run unless something is chasing me and it better be pretty darn scary, because I might decide it isn't worth the effort otherwise.

So there you have it - the van is back! Round 'em up, move 'em out - yee haaaaaaaaaaa!

I should probably post a picture of the newly refurbished mode of transportation. I figure it will probably take me 1 month, 1 and a half weeks, 2 hours and 10 minutes to get around to it and will probably be a picture of Matt's Neon instead. Hey - come to think of it - his Neon still has lime green spray paint on it!

Ah yes, good times, good times . ..

A Year in the Life

Happy 1st Birthday Nathaniel Bryant!

Opening presents is fun!

Piano Man

The best part of turning one is the cake!

Yum Cake!

All Clean!

Twelve months; 52 weeks; 365 days; 525, 600 minutes of baby smiles, poopy diapers, new teeth, crying jags, lullabies, walking the floor, cuddly moments, fuzzy pajamas, warm milk, binkies and blankies, first smile, rolling over for the first time, sitting up, standing up, saying "ma-ma", "da-da", "bye -bye" and "Uh-oh". Nine months growing inside of me to spend the rest of his life growing up and away . . .

Happy Birthday beautiful boy.

These sweet beautiful beginnings . . . .

How did I get here and why am I covered in Drool?

I ask myself this question at least several times a week.

My 4 year old and 7 year old have held my gut lately under much speculation. Sadie keeps wanting to know if there is a baby girl in there. No, there is no baby girl in there. She has asked this question several times now. Each time, I tell her no. Finally, she asked if there was a baby boy in there. I told her no. No baby boy either. I guess she was feeling a bit unsatisfied with this answer because she then asked "Just what IS in there mommy?" Look, I am not really a vain person - but six csections and several pregnancies just doesn't leave you with washboard abs. I am the Barca Lounger of moms - plush, cushy with ample lap space. Most of the time this does not bother me. Though, I do get tired of fielding the "when are you due" queries and other variations on that theme - particularly because I ain't due or any other variations on that theme. I find that it is especially pernicious at Walmart. Why the state of my belly is public domain there, I do not know. There is one lady in particular, unfortunately a door greeter - so we see her just about every visit, who can't seem to remember me from the last time I was there (which is practically every other day - gotta love living in a small town!). She asks me the same questions every time. "You ain't having another baby are you?" "How many kids you got now?" "You're getting fixed aren't you?" I didn't know I was broken. Fortunately I am a forgiving sort - otherwise, after about the hundreth exchange of this kind I would probably let loose with a beat down. Personally, I think the lady is a bit senile - or at least working on some form of dementia marked by memory loss. She literally cannot seem to remember that we have had this conversation more than several times already. Also, the hat. She wears this bizarre craft project gone seriously awry hat perched precariously atop her head. Crazy things are always sprouting off the top of this hat and she changes the decorations often to match any up and coming holidays.

Last night I get asked by Sadie yet again - is there a baby girl in there? I think she wants a sister. Sorry kid, two tries and two boys later, I think that you are going to be baby sister-less. Garrett comes to my rescue with "No Sadie - mommy is just F-A-U, um, F-O-U-T, errr - F-O-A-T" What?? I ask him if he is trying to say "fat". When he affirms this, I ask him why he is spelling it to which he responds. "Fat is not a nice word. You always spell words that are not nice." About this time, the baby who has been sitting on my lap chomps one of my fingers with his newly acquired fangs. "OUCH!" I yelp. At this, the baby puckers up. Lower lip begins to quiver and then the tears begin. "MOM! You made him sad!" hollers Sadie. I try to explain that I am the wronged party here, proffering my mangled finger as proof. Of course they are not buying this. I am mommy and obviously no match for Nathan's pouty quivering lower lip in garnering sympathy. "Is ouch a bad word? Maybe you should spell it and he won't get sad." So now I am contemplating yelling "O-U-C-H!" next time I get bit. Fifteen years ago I wouldn't have been contemplating spelling words that were "bad". Come to think of it - fifteen years ago I could still look down and see my feet . . . .