Peeing on Trees

So perhaps you are thinking that I fell off the face of the Earth? Well, yes, I did. Into the abyss that is Mommyness. I have been up to my eyeballs in parenthood. Wait, no...there was that time 6 weeks ago from last Thursday that I got to experience the incredibly rare, solo pee break. Granted it only lasted about 2 minutes, but for 120 glorious seconds it was just me, the loo, and that golden yet ever elusive Silence.  I won't go so far as to say it was pure bliss, but damn it was close.

So, yes, I've been occupied. Not because of the homeschooling. Yeah, that didn't last. Long story short, phase I of the Homeschooling Back Pedal began when I realized that 2 out of 3 kids needed to return to our local public school.  My oldest is the one who was most interested in homeschooling, and the other two didn't care too much either way. So while the 5 and 7 year old went back to our brick-and-mortar school I continued to homeschool my oldest. That lasted a few more weeks until phase II of the Back Pedal; she realized that I'm not nearly as interesting to be around 24 hours a day. I know. Shocker. And so now my 3 oldest are back in school, leaving me with just my little one for the bulk of the day...and leaving me wondering why I've been too stinkin' busy to keep up with this blog thing. 

And if wondering where my time goes doesn't have me feeling incompetent, perhaps today's phone call from the school principal will do the trick. Yeah, so focusing on the positive: nobody was hurt.  But apparently I've failed as a mother, where bathroom habits are concerned. My only son decided to Use A Tree during recess rather than a urinal in the boys' room.  Yes, that is correct, my son peed on a tree at school.  Apparently my appreciation for some alone time in the WC is not a trait shared by my boy.

I Can't Keep Up

Aw, geez. It's seriously been well over a month since my last post??? How can that be?? I swear, I just opened that grandiose box of K'Nex a week ago...really. Time is playing tricks on me. Not funny, time. Not funny.

So the school year ended (May 21st! I know! Crazy, right? So early. Back in my day, we went to school until mid June or later. Of course we also had to walk up hill both ways...through snow.) And we went to visit my parents up North. Then we returned back home seemingly seconds before my In-Laws arrived for a week's visit, only to find that our one dog, whom we left in the care of a neighbor, seemed to have not been let out of his crate in almost a week. Yes, there was a lot of Seeming going on: the In-Laws seeming to arrive when we did? Good. The poor dog seeming to have been held captive? Awful.  And it's totally and completely not funny and a majorly upsetting thing, so now I'm moving on.

So we had a fabulous time with my parents up North, and then we had an equally fabulous time with my In-Laws, including my two sisters-in-law, 1 niece, and 1 nephew. Both visits? Entirely too short.  Since that time my husband has constructed 3 new homes. Ok, no, he only actually just made two built-in desks, to include painting the office area of the house (for the second time in less than two years, but we won't go there), and he's now started Nursing School (I swear the man is a Professional Degree Collector. The pay is not as good as you might think.)... So what else have we been doing with our summer? Well, we've been to the lake a few times. First visit we encountered: one very large, dead & semi-devoured fish and plural vultures, a snake, a mole, a lost dog, and a turtle...I think one of our neighbors is a mosquito farmer, as that is the only logical explanation as to why the mosquitoes are so bad in our yard...Little Miss L. called 9-1-1 on my "locked" cell phone a few days ago...We harvested a pumpkin from our garden...Miss A. had her 5th birthday this last weekend (yeah yeah yeah...birth story, I know. I'm so far behind being behind)...we almost ended up with a 3rd dog last night when a sweet doberman?/rottweiler?/lab mix pup followed my hubby, two of the kids and our dogs home...after the 4th (of July) I will be solo-driving the 4 kids and myself back up North to visit the grandparents for a couple of weeks...and the decision has been made: I will be homeschooling Z, K, and A, beginning with this school year coming up. Yeah, I might be crazy, but I already knew that...and I figured you did too.  So. How's your summer been?

K'NEX: Tantrums & Tour Guides

So a while back I signed up, as a "Mommy Blogger", to get some K'Nex from the Fabulous K'Nex Folks in exchange for reviewing them on my blog.  And so here we are, a good month or more since I received a 14 pound box of Pure Kid Joy.  The day I received the hefty package I stashed it in the garage.  My intent was to go through the box that night, and sort and wrap the K'Nex and give them to my kids as a surprise.  A sort of Christmas In April, if you will.  Well the box sat there. And sat there and sat there. And so we could have done a Christmas In May sort of thing...except for the fact that I decided I was too lazy to crawl into the attic to fetch the wrapping paper and so a few nights ago I managed to bribe the kids into getting ready for bed a good 1/2 hour earlier than normal.  I told them I had a box of stuff for them once they had their jammies on.  So with 3 jammy-clad children eagerly awaiting (I had already laid the littlest one down for the night) I cut open the box. 

Mrs. K'Nex had hooked us up!!  The motherload of K'Nex was sitting in a box in our living room! Sets of "Construction Crew"s, "Micro-bots", Sesame Street character Kid K'Nex, a Fire Rescue set that can be configured 10 different ways to make various vehicles, and a bucket of 350 of the coolest little building appariti a kid could want! Now, I've got to confess: up until this point I've always been a Lego gal. It's what we, my husband and I, grew up with (did they even have K'Nex back in the 70s?) and so it's what we've gotten for our kids.  And now, nothing against Legos, cuz I still love 'em, but these K'Nex??? They totally rock! First of all, my kids can use them along with the Legos we already have. But the K'Nex are more than just building bricks.  There are stick majiggers, and connector thingys and all kinds of pieces and parts that my kids can use to build the contraption shown in the directions provided or to create whatever their little engineering imaginations might think up. 

That first night that we were introduced to K'Nex I gave my three eldest children 1/2 an hour to play.  My B.P.E. (see previous post if you need clarification on the acronym) for the first time in her short little life, actually listened (for the most part) when I said it was bedtime.  She was thoroughly enjoying the K'Nex, but knew that her little body was tired and ready for bed. The 7-year-old, however, was a completely different story. The tantrum he threw, in protest of having to leave the K'Nex only long enough to get a good night's sleep, could have taught any 2 or 3-year-old a thing or two about Tantrum Technique.  It was ridiculous.  And I considered packing him up and sending him away UPS, except for the UPS store was already closed for the day.  Lucky for No Felon Record me.  And the 9-year-old? Let's just say she's picked up the Passive Agressive trait from my brother, as she kept telling me "Ok mommy" each of the 6 billion times I told her it was time for bed.

The next day the K'Nex play continued promptly after school.  My 7-year-old diligently worked away for an hour or more, creating and building.  And when my 9-year-old completed Speedy, one of the Micro-bots, she carried "him" all through the house on a thorough and guided tour of our abode.  I do believe my aspiring teacher may someday have a summer job as a museum tour guide. 

The Sesame Street sets are listed as being for ages 2-5, and the other sets are for "5+" and "7+".  My almost-5-year-old was challenged by the Sesame Street sets when trying to build it like the picture, but thoroughly enjoyed coming up with some wacky combos of Cookie Monster, Ernie, and Elmo.  My 1-year-old enjoyed playing with those creations of the almost-5-year-old, and most of the pieces were large enough for the littlest one to play with without fear of any choking hazards. The other sets (for ages 5 and above) are a totally different story.  There are many small and a few teeny-tiny pieces that could easily be snacked on by the 1-year-old, so we've restricted the construction sites of those sets to the kitchen table or breakfast bar.

So there's a new favorite toy in the B family house.  Maybe I can get some more to complete our never-ending kitchen remodel.

It's In The Genes, Just Not My Genes

As my husband prepared to take our four children to the park I began chanting an unfamiliar but frighteningly cathartic mantra: I will not do any cleaning. I will not do any cleaning. I will not do any cleaning. I will not do any cleaning.  And with those opening remarks there are soooooo many directions I could take this:  I could write about what I'd like to be doing right now (a multitude of things other than cleaning), I could write about how my house always seems to be a mess even though I'm almost constantly cleaning, I could write about how difficult it is for me to just sit down and be when I'm at home (because there are always dog hair, toys, clothes and books to be picked up, laundry to sort, wash, or fold, meals to be prepared or cleaned up. Case in point: within 10 minutes of my episode of chanting I was spraying tub & tile cleaner in one bathtub and toilet bowl cleaner in the toilet.  Mind you, I haven't actually scrubbed anything yet (this was a few short minutes ago), but the intent is there: while my hubby has taken the children to the park, partially for the purpose of giving me a little time to myself in a peaceful, still, and quiet house, the distractions of dirt & grime are bellowing at me: "step away from the blog!" and "don't even think about putting your feet up to enjoy a good book!"  But (please exucse my journalistic meandering) let's focus on my husband for a moment, shall we? As I've said, he has taken our entire rambunctious brood to the park. It's a bird, it's a plane! No, it's Super Dad!! Right? Yes, in so many ways he is an amazing husband and father.  And I love him immensely.  But let me tell you why he's a jackass.

A few nights ago, as my hubby clanked spoon against bowl, gobbling up what I'm sure was a rather large bowl of ice cream (one of my most favorite food groups), I hunkered down at the computer in the other room simply to keep my distance from said ice cream.  As you may (or may not) know I have been trying to shed some weight, and with my love of ice cream it is best if I do not come within 50 ft. of it.  Think of it as a Restraining Order. And as you may (or may not) know my husband doesn't need to lose a single pound.  Super Dad is approximately the same size that he was twenty years ago, in his Track Star college days.

So a short while later, when the coast was clear, I popped my trusty bag of Smartpop (the indulgence I'll allow myself) and cozied up on the sofa with my Super Dad of a husband so we could watch a show.  Now. Normally I share my popcorn willfully. But after Super Dad scarfed 1/2 a gallon of the forbidden frozen dairy concoction? He ought to know to leave my popcorn to the chubby one. Paws off.  So after he took a few fistfuls of my fibrous, grainy snack I gave him The Look. Yeah, I know you know what look I'm talking about.  That look.  And when he semi-jokingly said "I'm trying to gain some weight." I didn't really get the joke.  Because why is that funny?  Is he mocking me?  Then he proceeds to share that since his weigh-in (an Army thing) a month prior he has lost five pounds.  Five pounds.  Lost five pounds.  Mr. I Don't Need To Lose An Ounce has lost five pounds and is now trying to gain it back. Meanwhile his wife, Ms. I Gained An Average Of 48 Pounds With Each Of Five Pregnancies struggles to lose as least some of that "baby fat".  So yeah. Super Dad is a Jackass. There. I said it and I feel better.  Frighteningly cathartic.  Now if you'll excuse me there's a tub and toilet in this quiet, kidless house that need scrubbing.

Hubby's Last Words

I shouldn't be here right now.  Baby is napping, sick hubby is also sleeping, clean laundry beckons to be folded, dishes are getting crustier.  Shit, I haven't even wiped the kitchen table free of this mornings cheerios-and-milk droppings.  But I just gotta ask something.

What is it about men and getting sick?  When I feel myself getting sick (a flu, a terrible cold, a sore throat, whatever the run-of-the-mill case may be) I recognize it and might say to my husband "I feel pretty crappy.  I hope I'm not getting sick."  After all, I'm not dying.  But last night my husband (my dear, sweet, hard-working, fabulous dad to our children and best friend of mine) says to me, in a most ominous tone: "Something's not right."  As if he might have some sort of a brain tumor or something equally terribly frightening.  I'm not saying he doesn't feel well. I'm not trying to discredit his feelings, be it nauseau, headache, or whatever.  But seriously? I wish I'd video recorded his forebodding "Something's not right" as if the world were coming to an end, so that I could post it here...for all other heterosexual women to see as witness to the fact that, No, their husbands/male significant others are not the only ones.

And cue little Miss L's cries.  Gee, a 30 minute nap *sigh*. Gonna be a long day for this mama.

It's Gotta Be The Scale

I am slow. No, no. I don't mean mentally slow. Ok, well I may be a little slow up in the attic (proven by how many? of my previous posts), but that is certainly the fault of my offspring and the intellectual capacity of mine that they have sucked right outta me.  But I'm not talking about that kind of slow.  I'm talking about a physiological sluggishness.  Seriously.

Case in point: Well, I was getting out of the shower tonight (*exciting side note: that was the second shower today! That's right two showers in the same day! I don't remember when that last happened! Of course even memories of things as recent as this last week are fuzzy, and I'd say that it could have been a couple of days ago but those of you who keep up with me on Facebook know all about my FB confessions and that I don't always get a shower every day...) Where the hell was I?  Ok, drying off from my second.--yeah, baby, that's right, victorious!--shower of the day, I realized that my back was peeling.  What am I? Some sort of skin-peeling lizardy-reptilian creature? Then I recalled my sunburn...when the heck was that (gotta go check...).  Ok, on the 3rd of April...so that's over two weeks ago, and I'm just now peeling?  See? Physiologically Slow. Fact.  As proven by the shedding. 

And this brings me to an update on my whole I Don't "Go" On Diets I Eat Healthy Hey! I Think I'll Try The Slim Fast Plan saga.  So as I said in my last post I lost two pounds over Easter, in spite of my manic indulgence in choc--...Now wait. I'm not gonna totally rehash the events of said week, as they have since brought me much anguish and dissappointment.  You may be wondering why a two pound weight loss would cause "anguish" and "dissappointment"? Well, fine, I'll tell you why...because the following week...the week when I actually steered clear of those sinful, seemingly-innocent, peanut-buttery, pseudo-egg shaped, chocolate-covered, cellulite-loving, Reese's bastards...I gained two pounds.  Yeah, more than a week after my sloven indulgence I gained two pounds. Not when I weighed myself a few days after the train-wreck occurred...but rather a whole week after the I Live For Chocolate Week weigh in.  Really? I mean, who does that?? Whose body takes ten days to register a weight gain?  See? Physiologically, I'm pokey.  As proven by the shedding and now the delayed weight gain.

On the bright side (can you see my eyes rolling?), those two weeks cancelled each other out.  And then this last week?

Nada. Zip. Zilch. 

And I thought I did pretty well, steering clear of high-fat, high-calorie foods, doin' the Slim Fast meal replacements twice a day and eating healthy snacks and a meal.   And as anyone who has ever tried to knows, losing weight seems to take much longer than gaining weight. But the scale read the same this week as it did last week. I guess maybe I'll see this current weeks weight loss sometime, you know, later this year, or maybe in 2011.  Truthfully, I'm fairly certain that it's my scale that's slow...not me. And so yeah, I'll blame my peeling skin on that damn scale too. And the sunburn in the first place.  How's that?

Slim Fast-er Please

So not counting my teenage years, when brain function dictates that at least 51% of actions and decisions shall be stupid, I have mostly stuck with the philosophy that "diets" don't work. I believe that the best way to lose weight healthfully is to alter one's eating habits: to make better, smarter, food choices. I don't believe that "going on a diet" makes any sense, seeing as how a person's diet refers to what they eat...not a weightloss plan.  And the only way to lose weight sensibly and keep it off is to change the diet, not "go on" a diet.  That just doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me.

And so, here I am, 3 weeks into The Slim Fast Meal Replacement plan.  No, I apparently haven't progressed much in brain power since my 15th birthday...so does that mean I'm aging well?!! Ok, sidetracked yet again by a topic for another post.  Focus, middle-aged mama, focus! So, yeah, I'm doin' the Slim Fast thing and it's going well: down 3 pounds in both of the first two weeks and 2 pounds lost in the 3rd week.  I'd say that's fabulously good seeing as how the middle of my Week 3 was riddled with Reese's peanut butter eggs and chocolate damn rabbits.

Have I ever mentioned that I love chocolate? I mean LOVE chocolate. Ok, no, not divorce-my-husband-and-marry-a-solid-chocolate-person kind of love.  But the most self destructive kind: the no-self-control love.  The kind where I don't buy chocolate to just "have around" and enjoy every once in a while because if it's in my house I will eat it.  I cannot wrap my brain around the notion that my husband can buy a single chocolate bar, put it in the freezer and leave it there for months. For Months.  Did you hear me??? I said FOR MONTHS.  I never even knew that was humanly possible, to have chocolate, paid for and in your domicile, and not eat it, and yet he does it. Or he used to. He has since learned that any chocolate put away for winter --or whatever the hell he's waiting for when he buys it and stashes it away like a damn chipmunk in the first place-- is just not safe in my house.  And so this is why I, generally speaking, do not buy chocolate except on special occasions for my special little people. Even then, I'm likely to try and snatch a little piece from the innocent youth in the family.  You know, only when they've gotten an absurd amount...and only when they're not looking.  Shut up! This is not confession and you are not even Catholic.  Sorry.  Those tiny voices again. 

So, yeah, 8 pounds down in spite of Easter? Heck yeah, I was pretty pleased.  So I did what any healthy, sensible, estrogen-filled being who loves chocolate would do in my position: on my next trip to the grocery store I purchased a package of 1/2 a dozen Reese's peanut butter eggs.  Afterall, they were on clearance. Practically impossible to not buy them.  And I am proud to say that I put them in the freezer when I got home. Or, at least, the four that were left.  And I noticed today  (a good 48 hours later, I might add *said quite proudly, bordering on arrogance*) a certain empty yellow and orange wrapper that my husband left on the counter.  Guess he found 'em in the freezer and figured he'd better grab one while he could.  No more storin' chocolate for that chipmunk.

So this Slim Fast thing is working out pretty well.  But I am mixing it up a little bit. Last week, while at Target one day in early afternoon I realized that I hadn't had my lunchtime Slim Fast shake, and I was hungry.  So that afternoon I went with the Snickers Meal Replacement.  You know... just keepin' it fresh.