Morning Boys

These boys are my morning joy.

Every morning - - EVERY morning - - we have the same routine.

(Okay, every once in awhile we are really late and it's rushed at best but it's pretty much always the same.)

We say goodbye to S1, we tell him what is for dinner, S4 hugs him.

We drop S4's things off at his locker, pick his lunch, head to the bathroom.

S3 meets us at the bathroom.  He greets me with a hug.

We head for the far hallway.  S3 scoots down one hallway, S4 and I go down the other hallway and we meet at nearly the same moment at S2's classroom.

S3 and S4 tap on the door.  Sometimes they dunk and hide behind a locker but pretty much they just stand there waiting for S2 and his friends to come out and see them.  They greet them with hugs.

And more hugs.  And more hugs.  And one more hug.  Wait, just one more.  I have to often times say sternly, "Enough!"

I tell S2 what is for dinner.  The other three boys have comments on wether that was a good choice for me to make or what would be good for dinner or what they are having.  I get a run down of who is going squirrel hunting, who is going to a game, who is shooting skeet, who got hurt playing, what the weather will be....

Our conversations are random.  I tell them to hurry on into class before they get in trouble for talking too long and they get one more hug from S3 and S4, I hiss "enough hugs already!", I see the boys shyly smile at they head for class, S2 gives me one more hug to tell me to have a good day and I walk away from "my boys".  Mr. B, the teacher they think hung the moon, never marks them tardy and lets us have our morning ritual every day.  I think he is the greatest teacher.

We drop S3 off at his class.  He has to kiss my cheek and lift S4 up off his feet.

S4 and I begin the walk back to his section of the school, talking about random things until we reach his door.  Sometimes he hugs me quick and strolls right in, sometimes he clings to me and cries.  Still.

My husband told me I should get a picture of my morning boys.  He can be brilliant like that, so one day I did.  

They thought I was a little silly for asking for a photo.  But their mom's must take a lot of pictures of them too because they just lined up and smiled.  This is the one photo I took and I think it is frame worthy.

Monday Monday

Sometimes, Monday's go like this.....

You wake up late to a head cold that has snot dripping from your nose.

It literally feels like your brain is draining through your nostrils. (nice mental image, huh?)

You wake up your boys and realize you are the mom who never knew you son slept behind the couch all night...

When you get out of the shower, you see your boys are no where near ready for school.

You blow your nose five times in the time it takes you to get dressed.

Your boys are still not dressed for school.  As in, underwear naked.

You loose your cool.

You make coffee...extra strong...and pray the cold medicine kicks in.

One of your sons wails he has not eaten breakfast and he can't find his socks and his shoes are missing and his back pack is still in the suburban where he left it Friday...and it's time for you to be leaving the house RIGHT NOW.

You loose your cool...again.

You barely make it to school.

You fall into the kitchen door of your home and make more coffee.

The medicine begins to kick in.

You get yourself prettied up a bit.

You meet with a friend for (more) coffee and share life.  You talk future plans and hobbies and connect and wish you could chat much more often as you munch on red velvet cookies with chocolate heart centers.

At the store you realize there are, in fact, enough custard filled donuts for you to get one for everyone in your family for an extra special breakfast tomorrow for Valentine's Day.  You have the cash on hand to spoil them this way. (And.....now you have an unhealthy breakfast for an on the run breakfast tomorrow morning on an already going to be sugary day.)

Upon arriving home, all your chickens greet you and make you smile.

You have fresh blueberries in you fridge for lunch.

Your husband calls just to say he loves you.

Yup, Monday's can be like that.

The Mole That Came for Coffee

The other morning I woke up extra early.

Every once in a while I wake up at some insane hour and find it pointless to fall back asleep.

Because I won't fall asleep till about six am.

Which is when I should be getting up anyhow.

So this morning I decided I would make some coffee and

drink it in bed.

I never do this.

But it was so cold that morning.

And it sounded like the ultimate luxury.

I poured my coffee in my mug and went to the fridge to get the creamer.

But there, at the corner of the fridge, was something.

Something trying to desperately dig it's way under my fridge.

A mole.

I was so stunned I dropped the creamer in my hand.

It missed the mole.

How a mole got into the house is a mystery.

My theory?

He wanted some coffee.

He didn't get any.

I picked him up and let him go outside.

 But first I took a picture to show the boys.

S4's question when seeing this photo later in the morning?

"Why didn't you paint your nails, Moma?'

Yes, that was so my first concern when picking up a baby mole.

After letting the little thing go and then scrubbing my hands a zillion times, I crawled back in bed with my coffee.

I haven't gotten up early any morning since.

It seems...rather dangerous...to wake up early here.

Excuses to Be Late to School

I haven't had an installment of Excuses to Be Late to school in quite some time...because we have actually been on time.

I will let you take in that shocking bit of news for a moment.

Over the shock now?

One or two of those days....we were EARLY.

I know, it is difficult to believe.

But that went amazingly the other way today.

I had to debate long and hard to tell you this story though.  It tells some pretty awful stuff about this family.  But, to understand this story fully, you must hear it all in it's embarrassing horrific details.

My boys rooms are a disaster area.

There, I said it.

I scrubbed their rooms clean in September.  I sorted every single article of clothing.  I dusted every surface.  It was spic and span.

And since then they have gotten it messy and it's been easy for them to clean up.

But of late, it's just awful.  And I haven't had the heart to go back and clean it again.

To clear S1's name, I must say his side of the room is always totally spotless and it drives him batty to live with his brother's sloppiness.

This morning, early early early (so early I didn't even look at the clock), S4 crawled in bed with me.  I awoke with my alarm to a pillow pet, a stuffed dog and an elk in my face...and in the middle of all that was S4.  It was so sweet.

Because at five in the morning - yes, five - I heard S1 roaring down the steps...he is usually my latest sleeper...and S2 squeal with giggles of uncontrollable laughter.

"YOU!" my oldest, neatest, most responsible son roared, "You KNEW it was there!  That's why you shut off all the lights and ran!"

S2 could only laugh hysterically.

I heard some more commotion from the boys and could tell they had moved to the bathroom.  I could not muster the awake-ness to check on them to see what was going on.

Soon I heard the story...our dog who has recently began having issues (as in the dog that would not poop or pee all day if left alone (as rare as that would be) now sometimes cannot make it through the night.  And instead of waking me, she just goes on up to the boys room and leaves it there in hopes no one will notice.  I'm pulling my hair out over this new development.) left a pile of poop in the middle of the room.  S2 seen it on his way down the steps and quickly formulated what he was sure would be the best of plans.

S2 went upstairs - leaving the poop - and jumped on his oldest brother hollering he was late for school and he had better get up and Moma was storming mad he wasn't up.  When S1 began to waken - slowly - S2 ran for the door, shutting out the light and stumbled down the steps giggling.

S1 mutteringly got out of bed, made his way through his spotless side of the room, side stepped the pile of toys and papers S2 has on his side of the room and began the careful cross through S3 and S4's side of the room to reach the door - in the dark - and turn on the light switch, located at the door.

He then stepped in something wet and cold.

And realized immediately by the smell he had been dooped by his brother.

He managed to pummel his brother, clean up his foot, pummel his brother again and then he went back to bed - because he realized it was just after five and even his moma wasn't stirring yet.  He did holler at his brother to clean the nasty mess up.  S2 seen the pile of poop on the clothes and realized his good luck of not having to clean the carpet this time - he just threw all the clothes away that the dog had pooped on.

See, I'm telling you, utter humiliation here.

All the ruckus woke S3, who really did think it was time for school and got himself all good and ready for the day.  He then spent his time drawing pictures.  He then taped the said pictures all over the window next to my computer desk.

S1 ended up unable to sleep anymore and laying in bed thinking what S2 did to him just disgusted him so he decided he might as well get up and start the day.

S2, of course, also got already for school and settled in to read.

But about 6:30 this all was getting boring and they began to wrestle. play football, chase each other through the house.....

I just stumbled for the shower and mumbled something about making sure S4 was out of bed on time.

I should have thought that through a bit more because all three boys took great delight in waking S4 up.

S4 did not find it humorous at all.  He had to recuperate from their rudeness, so he went back to sleep.

And then the brothers did it all over again.

We then had 15 minutes before we had to leave for school.  The three brothers who had been up for forever at this point, went outside to play and wait while this moma was frantically trying to get S4 ready for school.

Outside, S3 decided to chase his brothers with sticks. S4 went out to put his packed back pack in the suburban and ended up diving into the back of the suburban to get away from his brother.  He was so sure he would get caught by his brother he just ducked down and hid in the suburban.

Which did wonders for the moma who was trying to get him ready for school.

We finally got everyone in the suburban, buckled, and took off down the road....

Only to have the back doors of the suburban fly open.

I had to brake fast and pull into the neighbors to shut the doors.

Apparently, when diving into the back of the suburban to hide from your brother you do not think to pull shut the doors behind you.

And then there we were, one of the last families to arrive to school.

Even though they had gotten up at five in the morning.

I am thinking of issuing a new rule - no one gets out of bed before six thirty in the morning.

And that is our newest excuse to be late to school as well as our awfully embarrassing family story.

I'm now off to clean my boys room.  Again.

(In whole other news...Fox 17 will be airing our digital detox story again on Saturday at 10 pm because they liked it so much. Woohoo, how cool is that?!?!?!

I told you Sarah did a great job with it :) )

Icky Day Sunshine

Today is an icky cold dreary rainy gray dark blustery day.

It ain't pretty.

The boys woke up at five.  I know this may sound odd to the lot of you, but I ENJOY sleeping in until my alarm goes off.

And it doesn't go off at five.

I gave up and just began the day.  It's pretty much impossible to go back to sleep with two extra boys in your bed.

My boys wake up like they have had a pot of coffee by iv before their eyes fluttered open.  It's hard to handle the extremeness of them...they are running and squealing and playing and climbing up Daddy to get his phone to play Angry Birds and eating cereal and fighting over their favorite bowls and chasing the dog with a nerf bow and it's insane.

I haven't even had a cup of strong coffee yet.  Heck, it isn't even brewed yet.

But as I watch the boys get those extra minutes with Daddy before he leaves for work, as I watch them tease and giggle, my heart can't help but melt.

I stand in the kitchen inhaling my french press coffee and think about what a dreary long day this is going to be.

And catch my boys attempting to escape outside.

Here I am all sad about the mud and the cold and the darkness and the thought of winter too quickly approaching....

...and my boys are trying to get outside to run and play in the puddles and attempt to slide all over our slippery slimy wet deck.

Perspective.

It changes an icky day to a bright one - even if the sunshine doesn't shine.

Yup, we've got Icky Day Sunshine here today.

And I need another strong cup of coffee.

Our School Morning Ritual

At dinner last night, hubby asked me how it went when I dropped off the boys in the morning.  He hadn't asked us that yet.

He knows me.  He knows I have routine.

Even if our routine runs a little late.

I glanced at S1, who giggled a little, took a deep breath and began.....

Once we get to school, we must hurry to the crossing guard.  If it's the one teacher, S4 begins to giggle and saunter importantly.  He knows what she is going to do. When we are in talking distance, she calls out to S4 "Hey there, Troy" in her best southern Swamp People accent.  He responds with some sort of "I'm gonna get you!" And they do this whole alligator and "choot 'em" routine.

It's our daily school greeting.

If we see that Austin and Blake are about to be dropped off, we must run to get right in front of them.  If we make it in front of them, we must shake our booties and sing "We beat you! We beat you! We really really beat you!"

At this point S2 takes off like a flash for his classroom.

S1 is the first drop off.  His locker is directly in front of the front door.  The teachers there to greet us all wait with baited breath to hear what is for dinner.  

See, S1 didn't hug me when I dropped him off the first week of school.  Call me a sad mom, because I was, I came up with the ingenious idea that if he wanted to know what was for dinner, he had to hug me.  At first it was a sorta shoulder pat thing, but now it's a game and we play it well.

He hugs me, I tell him what's for dinner.

And then usually the teachers nod and agree that sounds good.  Sometimes they ask if they can show up.

I don't think they realize just how welcome they'd be.  I'd love to have any of them over to visit.

Then you hear me say, "Okay, hug your brother."

S3 and S4 jump on him, hang on him, try to climb him like a tree.

Then you hear me say, "Get off your brother! Let him go! Come on, we're late. Really, let him go!"

Every. Single. Morning.

We then drop off S4's backpack, drop his lunch off in his classroom where he teases his teacher he has nothing but bricks to eat (he says this every day he has cold lunch), puts his name under his lunch choice and we are off to the bathroom.

I stand outside the bathroom listening to too many little boys not pee and not wash their hands and I try not to be the mean mom and tell them to behave and try not to feel weird that I am standing outside a boys bathroom.

S3 is no company to me at the point.

S4 comes out of the bathroom waving his hands up and down like he is about to take flight.  Mrs. J told the class she doesn't like the hand dryers (I can totally agree with this) so he flaps his hands dry.

If Blake is at his locker because we are late, he waves his hands in victory and tries to sing our song "We beat you! We beat you! We really really beat you!"

S3 and S4 then have to hug Blake.

If I happen to see Nick, I say, "High five, Nick!"

He always high fives me - I'm the one who helps out at the coolest place ever (the library) after all.  And he is so kind to high five me even though it is sooooooo old school.

We then drop S3 off to class, it's a group effort to get his coat hung up, his back pack hung up, his folder in hand and his lunch in the tote.  Seriously, it's a project.  Because the whole time he is chatting with boy I don't know who fills us in on all the overnight sports scores.

The boy knows every teams score.  It's amazing.

Then S4 and I drop S3 off at his class.  If we stand at the door he forgets us so we just head off to S2's classroom.

S4 sticks his head into the room and S2 heads out of the class room and Jake always tags along.  I give S2 a side arm hug and let him know what's for dinner and if he is a pick up or bus ride home.  S3 then shows up for the hugs.  S3 and S4 hug S2.  We chat with Jake about what he is having for dinner, and sometimes two or three of S2's friends head out to chat with us but I am always afraid I am going to get them all in trouble.

I try to pat Jake's head as he walks back into class.

We then walk past Mrs. V's room just in case we can wave hello.

We give hugs to S3.  But it's S3.  He has to kiss us too.

I then sorta shove him into class because class for him has always started by this point.

If any brother forgets to hug S4, we must retrace our steps immediately.  S4 will fall into hyperventilating tears if he cannot hug his brothers goodbye.

Yes, the same brothers he fought with all morning and will see all during the day at school.

On the way back to S4"s classroom we come across Miss Mandy - the bus driver, the could be future mother in law of S4 - and wave hello greetings.  S4 usually chats the whole time with me about how the drop off went or the dinner work I should do or what Aunt Alicia and I should do at the library.

This is also the time that he can come up with some sort of serious illness - like a sore finger or some other sort of tragedy like painful socks.

At his classroom door I give him a big hug and sometimes a kiss on the cheek.  Sometimes he struts right into class, sometimes he needs three hugs and shove into the classroom.

I hurry on out of school now - it's anywhere from five to ten minutes past eight now, and school starts at eight - and I try to wave a cheery hello to all the great ladies in the office.  They are such dears.

Then I am out of the school.

And ready for more coffee.

When I finished the morning routine, Hubby was stunned silent.  "Huh" was all he finally said.

I didn't even tell him about the all the other friends we have to wave to our call out greeting to every morning.  Sometimes we even have to swap books, soup and such.

Pretty sure Hubs finds me crazy.

We Have Nearly Survived the First Week of School

It's Friday.

I don't think I have ever looked forward to a Friday so much in a super long time.

It's the first week of school - and while it is a four day week - it has been kicking our butts.  As S4 has whined..."Why do we have to go EVERY day?'  And S1 admits he would like school a bit more if he could just have a day to sleep in.  Okay, maybe every day sleep in and then go to school.

We've had school, practice and Daddy has been working crazy hours every day this week.

Can. Not. Wait. For. Tonight.

We are going to eat a ham meal, settle in on the couch and veg...all cuddled together.

We'll probably all be asleep by seven pm.  But that will be just fine by all of us, I'm sure.

Here's a snap shot of this morning....

After a morning where S4 has cried that school is horrible and he doesn't want to go back, S3 is peeling a carrot for his bunny but then decided to eat most of it himself, S2 just wants us to GET TO SCHOOL because he gets to wear his jersey to school today and S1 just wants just one day to sleep in....

We got in the suburban a bit late.

S4 remembered he hadn't eaten breakfast at 7:38.  We have to leave school at 7:40.

Today is school picture day.  We found some great place that is highly recommended by a friend and we are going for family photos Sunday.....

All you who recall our last family photos

Knows how monumental that above statement is.

And now you should all pray for me.

And suggest clothes for us to wear.  Quickly.

I told the boys they could wear what they wanted today for the yearbook picture they will be getting.

S1 is fully decked out in camo.  S2 has his jersey on (of course).  S3 is bundled up in his most favorite John Deere coat/sweater thing.  S4 has on a black tshirt with a motorcycle on it because it makes him look dangerous.

Seriously.

We jammed to Ted Nugent's Fred Bear on the way to school, with another song by the Beatle's thrown in, ran in to the door (because we were nearly late) and S4 lost his shoe and began to sob.

Because we can not STILL find his shoes and he is wearing S3's shoes.  The velcro is about shot on them.  It's not a pretty sight.

We finally make it in the door where S1 has to hug me to find out what we are having for dinner.  No hug, no dinner knowledge.  And since this is NEED TO KNOW information, I'm getting a hug every day.  I consider this awesome.

We manage to deliver all the boys to the correct class before the school bell rings.  S3 just has a little more carrot to munch on as he walks into class.

We are getting there.  I think.  I hope.

But tonight? Oh, tonight I am so excited to have all my boys home and cuddle them and chill for the whole evening.  That will be total Friday night bliss.

Contact the Press - We Were ON TIME to School!!!!

This is the last week of school. All year long it's always a struggle to get everyone in the suburban and leaving the driveway on time (note - I did not say OUTSIDE, I said IN THE SUBURBAN. Big big big difference.) But the last week of school? Insanely tough.

It's like you wake up and you just don't care.

I don't harp on the boys to get going. If we aren't ready on time, we aren't ready. I know I should care but we just don't seem to.

I have a couple friends and we judge how we are doing getting our kids to school according to who has arrived at school at what time. It's a fun game. Kor and I have really been going at it lately. I have been know to call her cell phone from the parking lot to just sing the song.

The song? Oh, it's a classic!!!!

"We beat you! We beat you! We really really beat you!" And you must wiggle your butt and sing it in that annoying voice of "hahahahaha!"

It's a blast.

Yesterday I was a full five minutes late from when school STARTED dropping the boys off.

It's a good thing S2 was at 3rd grade camp that day because he HATES to be late and he is our human alarm clock. Literally.

Last night the outdoor wood stove that heats our houses in the winter and heats our water all year long, ran out of wood and went cold.

So....the boys were THRILLED to hear they could not bathe last night. They were much less enthusiastic that they would have to get up early to shower.

It was rainy and cold this morning. It was dark and dreary and Moma was gulping coffee and shuffling through the house looking for clean towels (do we have any?) and clean underware (oh please oh please let there be some!) for the boys. It was not looking promising to make it to school anywhere near on time.

We piled into the suburban and looked at the clock.

We were early.

S2 cheered. He literally lifted his arms and cheered. He told us all what a great job we had done. He beamed.

After we had already dropped S3 off to class, we were walking down the hallway and noticed Kor just pulling into the driveway. S2 looked at me with the question he didn't have to even ask. I just nodded and opened the door....S2 and S4 ran as fast as they could and sang the song loud and proud as they shook their little butts and giggled running back.

Who says adults can't have fun?

As I was leaving school (important to note I was leaving at the time we normally ARRIVE), the school helper who keeps the door open realized we were leaving. "Wow!" she said, "I usually know as soon as you make it through I need to close the doors! It's how I judge what time it is. I mean that in a nice way..." she finished. I know her, I know what she meant. :)

S4 and I walked out of the school hand in hand as Alicia ran in with her two boys. S4 loooooooves "Aunt Alicia" and was all too happy to sing the song to her. She laughed a bit as she shuffled the boys on into school "We must be REALLY late if YOU are leaving" she remarked.

I reminded her how late I was yesterday.

I didn't need to mention how late we have been most the year.

Ah, fun times at school this morning! :)

The Day We Took A Chicken to School

Some of you may know how this post you are about to read came about.

Recently, we were asked to bring in our children's pets to school for pet month. It was something S3 pondered over greatly. I recently blogged how he thought we needed new pets.

But, without much haggling, he decided we did indeed need to bring Chickie to school.

I so wish I could just write this post in Chickenese (which I am fluent in, by the way). But you may not understand it, so I shall tell it from my point of view.

The chicken did not understand why she was plucked from the chicken coop that morning. Nor does she understand why she is named Superman but that wasn't at the front of her brain that morning, I am sure.

But she does seem to love S3 so she settled down into the ultra cool AAESA bag where she was about to be shuffled off she didn't know where.

As soon as S4 seen the chicken in HIS green star bag - he freaked. He bawled his eyes out. He cried over the injustice of it all. I assured him I could wash it. He was certain it was ruined forever.

I then promised him a new one and we were back on track (and I had to send a hasty email out begging for a new free AAESA bag....)

And S3's smile was total happiness. The chicken didn't look too bad either.

But I may have taken this picture and wondered what on earth I was thinking.

My ever so sweet blogging and twitter friends caught wind of the fact I was taking a chicken to school (um, how could I NOT share that on twitter and facebook?) and I was instantly wished...

Chaos.

Yes, friends were hoping the chicken would see this as her chance to gain knowledge and run down the hallway to learn from every classroom she could while a happy, laughing class of first graders rushed to catch up, followed by a frantic looking mom with a panicked looking teacher close behind.

But we got there and all went well. Other than the shocked teachers that great us at the front school door who realized the chicken was in fact REAL, we hurried on into the class room where the class mates gathered around to be introduced to Superman the Hen.
And S3 was thrilled.
I glanced down to get my phone out to take a picture of how well things were going when I looked up to see this.....
The chicken was loose.

S3 figured she wanted to wander the room a bit. She seemed to, because she took a giant dump right there on the floor.

And all the kids held their noses and gagged.

When one of S3's best friends asked to hold Superman, S3 shrugged "sure" and swiftly picked up Superman the hen and placed him on his lap. This happened as the teacher was finalizing plans for a calf to come visit later in the day and I was dumping soap on the floor to help wash away the poop drop on the carpet when Superman decided to flap her wings and take to flight.....where she promptly fell back to the floor.

Can you imagine if she decided to roost high on a bar in the classroom? Can you imagine her pooping on the students?

I thought it would be a good time to leave.

And when I got back into the suburban, I took a long sip of my Biggby coffee and thought....how is that I am so blessed to have this life?

I Just Want to Clear My Name

It was not my fault we were late for school this morning.

No matter what the boys say, no matter what it may appear to have looked like, I was truly fully ready for school this morning. I even had my french press made and ready to go BEFORE the boys had their shoes on.

It's also worth mentioning I did not holler at them once. Not. Once.

But, yes, we were five minutes late to school.

S2 requests that Daddy take them to school. Apparently, Moma takes too long. She wakes up, she has to take a shower EVERY morning and she spends so long doing things that they are always late to school.

I heard S2 explain this all to his Daddy and I may have rolled my eyes. The battle of boys versus girls and getting ready to go somewhere starts VERY early. They cannot understand my need for a shower every single morning, putting clean clothes on, brushing my teeth, putting in my contacts and usually adding some mascara to exhausted looking eyes.

When I go to school in the morning, I am clean but look rough. Does that make sense?

Anyhow, this morning I was super tired. This is why.....

After a super busy week (this seems to be a theme for us lately), I went to Sue's yesterday morning to look over our magazine that goes out TOMORROW. I arrived home to tackle dishes and laundry and seriously, the laundry pile to fold is so high that I can't physically toss another pile on top of it - so I just started a new one. It's half the size of the other.

Yes, Hubby, I will fold laundry as soon as this post is done.

It was then that the cable guys called to hook us all up. And would be there in ten minutes - and like four hours early.

I figured, really, what could I do about it? So I just kept plugging away at dishes and dinner. Except they needed me to move some furniture. Like the chairs and dressers.....

In my defense, spring cleaning starts TOMORROW. It's been the plan since the boys started having spring break years ago.

But holy cow!!!!! The mess we found!!! Jake and I have watched movies and noticed the living room had a "smell". I figured the smell was "cooped up all winter long" but apparently it was garbage (yes! really!) that Sadie had found and decided to hide in the living room. Like, old lunch meat packages.

And a myriad of toys and dried up play dough and the like.

It. Was. Gross.

And I might have apologized profusely. And Josh, the technician, might have taken pity on me and did say said he would make sure we didn't have to move the fridge.

Can you imagine what might behind THERE?

Anyhow, I'm sore and tired and we had Word of Life club last night. I slept in till 7:05 this morning, but I was ready - completely ready - to go by 7:35 - FIVE MINUTES EARLY.

S1 was telling big stories today, doing silly voices and playing with the dog. S2 was giving us a minute by minute break down of the time we were wasting this morning, but he never once helped any of us get ready - the boy had gotten up at 4:30. He really does need a cow to milk every morning. S3 was lost all morning but miraculously was dressed before I got out of the shower. S4 could find no clothes he liked, so he settled on too small Lightening McQueen jammies.

It was as I was saying that we were now officially late that S3 pulls out of his back pack his homework he never mentioned he had and of course I never had seen it because I was too busy cleaning dog treasures and putting furniture back where it belonged before we rushed out of the house for Word of Life.

But we finished it. Back packs were loaded. S2 and S4 decided to wander the yard to just make sure it was the same mess it had been when they came in last night instead of getting in the suburban. Josie, our other dog, refused to go in the house so I left her out. I was still the first person in the vehicle.

I just said, as we pulled into school and I told them we were late, "Tomorrow starts Spring Break. And I think we really are ready for a week off of school."

Phone Calls

My poor husband, he never knows what he is going to get when he calls me. I usually answer with "Hey, husband!" or sometimes I'll be silly or sometimes I'll all gushy.

If I'm busy and just answer "Hello?" he feels badly and wonders what's up or wrong.

Then he always says to me...."How is your day going?"

That's a loaded question. It can bring a myraid of answers. You read my blog, you know this to be true!

Here is a sampling of a call from the other day.....

"Hey, Hubby!"

"Hey, wife! How's your day going?"

"Well....................I think I hit a bird."

"You hit a WHAT?" (He is now calculating the cost of the repair of anything I may have damaged.)

"A bird."

"Oh....a bird. Well, that's not bad." (Phew. No money lost here.)

Now my words all run together in a gushed outpouring, "I was driving home from school and there was a flock of birds in the field and they were all just sitting there being twitterpated and all the sudden this one flew up and flew all around and then BANG! I heard something hit my suburban. And then a cop drove by and I was sure I had a black bird splattered on the front grill of the suburban and I was sure he was going to pull me over for animal cruelty. (I paused to take a breath) But he didn't."

My husband was chuckling now. "Well, that bird won't be twitterpated anymore." He is sooooooooo compassionate. And practical.

"But I really felt badly."

"Was it a red wing blackbird?" He knows these are one of my favorite birds.

"No....it was just a black bird. I know how I'll feel better! I'll say it was a grackle!!! One less grackle in the world, hahahahaha!" (That was an evil laugh, by the way. I despise grackle's. They bully my birds and knock eggs out of mess and eat up all my bird seed.)

He chuckled. "Only you."

I think he married me just for the fun phone calls he gets to have every day. :)

Doing the Tough Thing

This morning was a typical rainy cold morning. I dropped the boys off to school without a hitch and no dog escapes. Other than being a sleepy feeling day, it was really going okay.

On our way to school S4 had said in a tiny voice in the back of the suburban, "Moma, I don't really like school. Because of nap time. They won't let me take my shoes off. And....and I miss you."

"Ahhhhh," I answered, almost not hearing the end of that declaration, "I miss you when you are at school too but you will have lots of fun today and I'll have cookies for you when you get home!"

Today is the first day S4 is riding the bus. He has been totally thrilled about it but maybe I missed something. I don't know, he'd been so excited.....

....but when it came time to take him down to his class, he began to walk slower. This has happened before but he is always fine after a hug. Not today. After the slow walking thing didn't work, he mentioned a tummy ache....but he was grasping at straws there. When we got to his hallway, he refused to walk another step. He leaned into a locker and tears dropped from his face.

"I want to go home with you," he cried softly.

I mentioned all his friends names and all the fun they would have today and the fact that he would be home soon and his teacher may have a new jungle story for him and his other teacher was so excited to put him on the bus.

Nothing worked.

I carried him to his class, more sorta dragged him there. He was getting desperate and when I put him down he laid on the floor. I got on the floor with him, pulled him in my lap, and told him he was going to school.

I handed him to his teacher and a friend of mine who was helping in his class. He screamed and clung to me and his little pudgy fingers clung to my coat so tightly he nearly pulled it off me.

And I walked away with him sobbing "MOMA!!!!!!!!!"

I walked right out the front door, leaned agains the cold brick wall, and cried.

I called my husband in hopes he would tell me to run back and in and hug him tightly and snuggle with him on the couch and build train tracks with him all day. But he didn't answer and I knew he wouldn't say that anyhow.

So I went back into school, snuck quietly down the hallway and leaned against the open door to try to hear him. I just heard quiet playing and no sobbing so I turned around and left the school.

And my heart.

Monday Monday

Today is Monday, the first official full day of spring. It was thunderstorms and rain and full spring like last night. One would think Monday would be rocking great today.

It's not.

So I shall give you my Random Monday Post.

This week has been..........long. I'll be sure to catch you all up on my Great Grandma's funeral, the busy week, the Ultimate Sports Expo, the huge moon, Jake and my date to the grocery store where I was reminded why I don't shop with him (which made me love him even more!)......

And this was just this week, people.

You can understand why Sunday morning I set my alarm back till seven am, and then Jake and I slept in till 8:30, how when the boys and I arrived home from church on Sunday night (Jake stayed for a trustee meeting that we had made the meal for) I just had all five of us eat instant oatmeal and then I brewed a super strong cup of coffee, poured in the almond joy creamer and then snuggled on the couch with the boys and read to them for half an hour (one boy who had fallen asleep at church and fell back asleep on the way home and then was carried to the couch where he curled up next to me and fell asleep again didn't hear much of the dinosaur book).

But when I went to bed after washing dishes till 10:15 pm, I forgot to set my alarm to the regular time.

I should have known this could happen, I mean, when your husband says to you at 10:30 - "Hey, do I have any clean underwear anymore?" you should know something bad will happen in the morning because you are obviously not prepared for the day.

For me it meant I awoke to two dogs breathing into my face and licking my elbow waiting for me to let them out - because it was an hour past potty time.

An hour late on a Monday.

And we know how Monday's go. Especially rainy, dreary, foggy ones.

It wasn't pretty.

S1 was attempting to keep order in the house while I jumped in the shower. S2 was flittering about looking for a paper he needed me to sign (and I refused to because I gave him fair warning I do not sign papers I haven't looked over). S3 was in a sleepy haze looking for all his homework to be gathered up and put into his school folder he could not find. S4 was too sleepy to get dressed.

We left late for school. And had to back up before we left the driveway for S3's glasses.

When we arrived at school, Sadie decided to make a run for it. I was holding her collar, trying to down some more coffee, and hollering "Go go go go go! Hurry hurry hurry hurry! Shut the door! Shut the door! Shut the door! Shut the door!" (because for some reason I speak in fours.....)

The mom who parked next to me this morning shuttled her son far away from us. I imagine she will not ever park near our dirty suburban again.

So there we were. Me with wet hair plastered flat to my head wearing water boots because who has time to tie shoes? S1 was barely walking, his eyes half open. S2 was running toward the school, afraid he may be late. S3, who had a white toothpaste stain running down his shirt, was death gripping two completed school papers crying that this was the worst school day ever. S4 was silent. S4 is NEVER silent.

So I should not have been shocked when we were walking down the hallway and S4 declared through a contorted face that his leg no longer worked and there was no way he could ever walk again.

I had to drag him away from the wall he was leaning into to get his point across.

S2 attempted one last time to get me to sign the paper he had just shown me that morning and I refused and am now overridden with guilt.

When we arrived home, S4 refused to get out of the suburban. Refused. Because, he informed me, home is not fun and he would rather go somewhere to someone's house and play.

I left him in the suburban. Went in the house, ate a bowl of cereal and then grabbed my Pioneer Woman cookbook and went to the little grocery store down the road where I picked up all the ingredients to make homemade meatballs because my sister promises me the boys will love them. The Pioneer Woman has them listed under "comfort food". I think we need all the comfort we can get today.

At the grocery story I was introduced to the new cashier by one of my favorite people who work at the grocery store as one of their most loyal customers - and she stressed it was because we have four boys. The new cashiers eyes went a bit wide. And I promptly forgot to sign my check.......

So I came home and blogged.

Please please please let Tuesday be better.

Our Morning Talk About The Verve Pipe - Wake Up

This morning, I awoke to my husband's alarm clock going off.

Since we haven't woken up at the same time in - well - a week, it'd been a long time since I had heard the "click".

Then I brace myself for the startling loud singing of our two oldest boys singing "Wake up, wake up, wake up, it's early in the morning". It's a recording they giggled through for their Daddy.

THEN, the radio blares and my husband hits snooze.

Today he hit it about ten times.

But I didn't care cuz then we could cuddle a little bit longer.

The song the boys sang to their daddy and recorded on the alarm clock is a song that they play at our school

Every

Single

Morning.

I should know it by heart but I don't because I am always rushing to make sure the boys aren't marked "tardy".

We may *gulp* have more than 2 or 3 or 5 tardies marked on our behalf. (TECHNICALLY, we ARE in the school, we just have FOUR classrooms to visit and people to chat good morning to and it takes us a little longer than the average family to get to class.)

This week, as the song was playing and S4 and I were making the trek from one end of the school to the farthest part of the school where his preschool is located, he asked me a stunning question.

"Why do we have to hear this song every morning?"

"Cuz it's happy," I replied, happy to be holding his little hand in mine as we walked past his older brothers class artwork on the walls.

"But WHO is happy to get up early in the morning? I'm not!"

That sorta stumped me.

Cuz I'm not either.

But it doesn't take away from the song, from a band who is, actually, from Grand Rapids, Michigan, which makes it even cooler.

Even if waking up is not cool.

Just ask my preschooler.

PS

Our principal just told me that she does

not

play this song EVERY day.

I was sure I heard it every day.

We figure it must just be because it is our favorite.

But I looooooooove our school principal and wanted to make sure she

was quoted in this post. :)

23 Days till Spring

Am I Tired????

People often ask me if I am tired. Because apparently I look tired. What a lovely thought.

This always causes me to pause, this question of "Are you tired?"

As if I need to say "Am I a mom?"

I mean, if you are a mom isn't part of your job requirement to be able to take nap at any moment to try to regain the years of sleep you have missed out on?

Am I tired.....sheesh.

I mean, why should I be?

My alarm goes off at five. If I am unimaginably lucky, it is just hubs and I in bed. But usually it is me and hubs and one other boy. Sometimes two other boys.

There is a dog panting in my face, waiting for me to show signs of life. She does not know the meaning of minty fresh.

There is another dog in the kennel, whining and crying and reminding me she is there.

I let them out and they immediately begin to bark to the heavens, announcing to all the invisible critters that were considering attacking us all that they have, in fact, returned to the outdoors and are keeping their eye on all the totally invisible and silent ruthless critters out there.

It's then I crawl back into my warm bed. I know, I need to start coffee (wouldn't a coffee delivery just be...wonderful? Like, with an IV so you wouldn't even have to drink it! You would get the wonderful aroma and taste in an IV so you would bounce awake, one cup of coffee already running through your veins) and get started on the day. But it's winter. And bed is warm.

Soon I'm calling sleepy boys to wake up. Then the fun really begins. There is the panic I may forget to feed them (this has never ever ever ever ever ever happened. But they are gripped with fear they may miss a meal.) Then it's the whole "What will I wear?" and even if I have been on top of the game to lay their clothes out, they will forget, they may cry over their favorite shirt MIA or pull out their most favoritest clothes they must wear...you know, the ones with the holes in knees, three inches too short and the completely stained shirt.

(note to self: do not wash these clothes this time. THIS time, Throw. Them. Away. For. Good.)

I cannot imagine how girls are in the morning.

And then the bickering begins. The "I wanted that cereal and he ate it all" and "Don't take my hat" and so on and so forth.

The dog sees the cat and the inside barking begins.

A game of football starts up in the living room while I am in the shower.

We have ten minutes before we have to leave. The only boys dressed are the ones who slept in their clothes.

Down as much coffee as I can in one sip.

Warn everyone we MUST LEAVE NOW!!!! I point to the tv. "When Jon Shaner does the next weather segment, we are OFFICIALLY late!!!"

S3 looses his coat. Or lunch. Or shoes. Or snow pants. Or boots. Or back pack. Or all that. Every. Day. Even though last night it was all laid out for him.

Jon Shaner begins the weather on Fox 17.

We are officially late.

I am screaming now. Because I am such a great mom.

I'm the last person out the door, even though I was the first one ready. S2 has taken over the radio. We are blaring.

Blaring.

I didn't drink enough coffee for blaring.

We arrive to school where I am already giving out game plans to get in the doors before they lock. "Okay, we are in the parking lot. Unbuckle. No! Don't climb over the seats yet! I am still driving! No, we cannot finish listening to this song. We are LATE, remember? Okay, go! go! go! go!"

The doors open and literally we all fall out of the suburban. It takes six tries to get all doors shut (there are only five of us. We only have four doors.)

We shuffle run into school. We shuffle run because it's not a good example to run into school. It also hazardous as it is winter. And icy.

On a good day, we make it in before the doors close and lock. On a regular day, we walk through the office, waving hellos as we do. And then I usually have to notice someones cool jewelry or shirt or hair style and comment on it.

Because I am the only girl in a house of boys.

We speed walk to classes.

I break a sweat.

We wave hello's to other parents and get asked by boys when they can come over to our house and remind S3 that he HAS a lunch he does not need to BUY a lunch.

Someone always always always always laughs at us. Every day. Always.

I leave when they all know what we are having for dinner. I am usually planning dinner in my head as we walk in the door. Because saying "I'm not sure what's for dinner" makes them panic that they may starve.

We have never ever not eaten dinner.

That is just the morning.

In the afternoon there is mountains and mountains of laundry. There is dinner to make. And snacks. Because what if they were to starve (they never have)?

I scroll facebook and twitter on my phone when I realize I have begun talking to the dogs as though they are children.

Just when I am so tired I cannot keep my eyes open, the boys arrive home from school.

They are starving.

Every thing I have cleaned all day long is now muddy, covered in something or spilled.

As I am finishing up dinner prep, they have homework questions.

We do reading and papers and S4 asks me a hundred times "what's a number between 2 and 21" from his Vtech computer.

I oversee lunch making while babysitting a Pillow Pet I am sworn to protect with a long list of rules. Daddy tries to kidnap said Pillow Pet. Screaming ensues. Tickling usually follows. It's a tough job.

Boys go to bed. Hubby mentions he hasn't seen me, how about I watch American Pickers with him?

If it's a good night, I do not fall asleep on the couch.

But that also means that when the show is over, I am in the kitchen washing dishes.

When I fall into bed, I do not toss or turn. Not once. I am instantly asleep.

And start all over again the next day, maybe with work at the library thrown in too.

Work I love.

Life I love.

Because this insane life that is frantic running all day long?

I love it.

I am so very very blessed.

But totally wonder how anyone dares to ask me if I am tired. Or assumes I read books constantly. Or can take a nap every day. Or get bored.

I laugh at that.

I am too blessed to be bored. And too busy to sleep.

So, yes, I am tired every single day.

But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Sights if You Have ONE Bathroom

Now that we are back in the school routine again, I thought I'd share this with you.

We have one bathroom. That's right. One.

And four boys.

And one Daddy.

And one Moma.

And two dogs.

Anyhow. Mornings we are always always always always always running late. (It may or may not have something to do with me taking pictures of the boys and checking messages every morning) And on any given day, this is the scene in the bathroom.

I came into the room to find this.

S3 is sitting on the tractor bench to put on his shoes even though S4 is standing on the bench to brush his teeth.

Welcome to my funny life.

I NEED a Fashionista

Really.

A live in full time fashionista. And a barista. And a housekeepira. And a chefista.

That'd be grand.

Anyway, today was dress up day. Sure, I could have been sensible and worn warm clothes on this 22 degree day but I wanted to wear a dress. A summer dress. Because I like summer thankyouverymuch.

But I needed some warmth with the dress so I figured I would wear my slip under the blue dress with a pink henley shirt under it and big wool socks with boots. Cute?

I wasn't sure.

And since I don't have a full length mirror so it's a scary stand on a chair and scrunch your body down tricky move....

....I asked S1 how it looked. He thought it was a trick question and answered first with "Yah, it's fine" in a I-have-no-idea-why-she-asked-me-this tone then in a sicky sweet voice, "Sure...you look nice all the time, Moma."

I knew that was a lie so I may have rolled my eyes, put on my super warm coat I got for FIVE dollars at a garage sale and decided I'd ask the first grade teacher at school.

S3's teacher is super sweet and I think she has gotten used to my...well, oddities.

She's probably questioning my sanity today.

When I got out of the suburban at school and the awful coldness of the morning hit me, I wrapped my long mid calf length coat around me and trudged up the sidewalk to the school. The wind was blowing at my coat and I thought in passing that I didn't recall my dress being so short.

Of course, it wouldn't seem short in summer, I reasoned.

And I continued on until I realized that, GASP, my SLIP was showing...not my cute knee length dress!

Picture this horror for a brief moment.

I am walking up the sidewalk in front of my boys school, surrounded by my boys, in full view of every parent in the drop off line.

And I look like I have neglige on under my coat and that I am not dressed in the least.

And there is no where to hide.

I desperately tried to pull my coat tighter and still hold on to the youngest boys hands...um, that doesn't work.

I whispered to S1 "My slip is showing!"

He did not get it. And wondered when the coffee would finally hit me so I acted somewhat sane again, I think.

We got into school and I considered hopping into the office to "adjust" myself but the office was teeming busy. So I darted in the little girls bathroom two forever long busy hallways away and yanked my dress that had gotten stuck on the back of my coat somehow and was literally as high as my panties.

I am sure there are parents out there who dropped their young children off at school thinking what a floozy I was.

Cuz I totally looked like it.

Totally.

I got into the cozy warm and friendly first grade room where I asked KJ if the outfit looked all right and she totally liked the dress and shirt and thought I may want to change the boots for my taller ones....

And then I spilled how awful the dress riding up incident had been.

And she may have laughed at me. A little.

I made it down the halls without flashing anyone else to get the boys settled in their classes and return home where I was sure I should just change my whole outfit so no one could say "Hey, didn't I see you this morning...um, oh, nevermind."

But if I DID totally change my outfit, it would look like I had gone to school wearing nothing but a sexy little black neglige to run on home in.

So I wore the dress and the boots KJ suggested and it did look cute.

But I don't think I'll be wearing it again for a very long time.

Terribly Good Morning and Hub's Be Awake

I hadn't written about a school morning run in a while and I thought since this one went so terribly good I would share with you.

Terribly good being specifically chosen words.

I stayed up way too late last night watching the Goonies.

Because I love that movie and Hubs had never seen it. It's a classic, I love it, and I let S1 watch it till they found the ship and then sent him to bed. Not because I am cruel, but because we don't own the movie and they were gonna stretch that last part over half an hour or longer so to bed he went.

Hubs had to be to work a bit early this morning and here's the thing...he has a Buick. That we call the Be Awake. This is why.....

His car is an old 80's Buick. He is especially fond of this car. The door seals do not seal, there is rust all over the lower portion of the door and you can, truly, be rained on or snowed in on with these doors.

Seriously.

The single most prominent feature of his beloved Buick is the noise.

Long ago, the muffler fell off. Now, he believes this makes it sound "bad" in a good way. He thinks it has more power. The boys think it sounds cool, like a Dukes General Lee. They call it Daddy's Race Car. They love the Buick.

I can, I exaggerate not at all, hear him a mile away.

It also works well for an alarm clock. As soon as he fires up the Buick, which we call the Be Awake because when he voice texts me that he is headed home the Droid hears Buick as Be Awake and the name fits so perfectly we just call it that, you can literally hear feet hit the floor.

And then you can look to the ceiling above and follow them as they stumble through the clothes and toy scattered room. Then you hear them trip down the steps and the slap of their hands on the paneling as they feel their way down, because his eyes will be nearly sealed tight with sleep. S2 will then burst into the too blindingly bright dining room to see his Daddy.

Right behind him will be S4, who wakes up talking and happy. His eyes may not be open but he will be saying full sentences as he arrives down the steps, like "Daddy, today is yellow day and I go to school and Moma already picked out my clothes. Are you going to work? Can you get me a bowl? I need cereal. And a spoon. And milk. And a HUG! And a KISS!"

Hubs always starts the Be Awake first, then hurries back in to catch these two boys in his arms for hugs and kisses before he leaves.

Sometimes, S2 will set his alarm for some early time, like 5:30 AM just to spend more time with his Daddy.

Our morning starts this way five days a week, always the same.

Hubby thinks I am being lazy laying in bed listening to it all. But in truth, I love to hear it, even if it is too early for the boys to be awake.

And I am lazy in the mornings.

But this morning I tried really hard to have at least my hair DRY and SOME make up on before I left to take the boys to school. It's not that I don't mind running errands make up less with wet hair, but, sheesh, sometimes a girl wants to look sorta nice.

And I pulled it off.

But in the process, the three youngest went outside to play IN THE DARK and then came in crying because they were bumping into things...shocker. Because they were over tired. And because I let them go outside so I could "fancy up".

S1 was moping around and I realized he had stayed up too late. And he was mad at me...because I had pulled all the clothes they hadn't folded out into the middle of their room and now he felt overwhelmed by the pile...more so because a friend was coming over. Today. After school.

We left on time, only to realize Sadie was loose. In the house. Where she would, certainly, eat all our garbage, our couch, our table, find a way to open the fridge....

And I couldn't back the suburban up because I could not see out the back foggy window.

Tensions were....strained.

As I flipped through the radio I wondered what the boys would remember about me as they grew with their kids? Would they remember a frantic shrill Moma in the morning? A Mom who scanned the radio constantly and never ever settled on one station for long (I'm notorious for "searching" the best song, all the time).

There was complete silence in the suburban. Sleepiness, irritation, anxiety, boredom...it was all there.

And then I struck on one of my most favorite songs.

Stuck Like Glue by Sugarland.

And I cranked it. I sang loud. I did body sways. I used my eyes to convey words to the song.

I had fun.

We were pulled into school with me jiving away.

I seen S3 feeling it. But S1 and S4 just silently got out of the suburban and waited patiently for me to finish singing. S3 would not look at me.

Great.

So then I turned into caring Mom. I got to the root of what was bugging S1...he needed to know the ending of the movie. He needed me to know he tries to clean his room. I told him I'd help with the room and then he and I were barely walking into school, me explaining in great detail how they load up with jewels, walk the plank, the ship is free, the hero has jewels in the marble bag to save the day.

He smiled for the first time all day.

Score.

Dropped S3 off, and chatted with the teachers about acorn squash. Because we have deep conversations like that in the morning.

Took S2 to his class, where he was thrilled to hear we were having hot dogs. He gave me a huge hug, not caring one bit we were in front of his class.

S1's eyes lit up when I asked his friend if he was okay with chocolate chip cookies.

S3 and S4 held my hands while we walked to class. They both told me they would miss me and that they liked holding my hand.

They both gave me kisses and hugs goodbye.

I returned alone to the suburban, contemplating the morning.

I think I learned two things.

My boys can be bribed with food.

And that even on rough mornings, those boys know I love them more than anything.

We Have Survived Friday Morning

But just barely....

Last night my hubby asked me to watch the Apprentice with him. We haven't watched the Apprentice in years and years but since Red Green wasn't on he got to channel surfing and found it. We have not seen each other since Sunday night, seriously, we have just crossed paths so I really wanted to cuddle with him and watch it but I had gotten up at 3:30, I'm fighting a cold and I could only listen to the end of it...I could not keep my eyes open. And he teased me. Imagine that....but he is bringing home Papa Murphy's so he is already forgiven and I am thinking he is the sweetest hubby ever - still.

But to sum it all up, I went to bed at eleven.

My alarm went off at 3:30 am to get my little nephew.

I made lunches, breakfast, coffee...and then I took a 45 minute nap so I could get up at 5:30 and realize that I had my days wrong so a wrong blog post posted this morning (sorry, it'll be readable tomorrow)...

...cleaned dog puke (she ate the chicken scraps, apparently dogs can't digest potato peels (sorry if you were eating breakfast) )...

... broke up a fight over who got to sit in the front of the heater vent...

...referred a football game...

...giggled at Fox 17's morning news, they were super funny today...

...tried to console a crying son who didn't do his homework like he was supposed to and was no scared to go to school...

...calmed a son (or attempted to) who is so excited to go get his hunting license today he will hardly be able to concentrate on school work...

...stopped a fight on the way to school during Buck Howdy's happy music...

...got all the kids to their classes...

...remembered to bring S3's lunch box home that he had forgotten at school...

...locked S4 in his locker like he wanted to and did indeed let him back out and then drove home.

To make more coffee.

And eat some of the Pioneer Woman's sugar cookies.

I may actually have to take up exercise thanks to her great recipes.

All that to say.....

I. Am. So. Thankful. It's. Friday.

And now I am going to clean up the Pops cereal Jr has just crushed into the floor and then mixed his oatmeal in them as I wrote this. The price I pay to blog....

Have a great night home with your families tonight, I know we will. And be sure to check back tomorrow, I have a special birthday post for a fellow blogger....

Never Talk to Strangers

My sister in law is laughing this week because of me. This is why...

I have long known I am not a 'people' person. I am perfectly content to sit at home and hang out here. I love chatting it up with a friend, A FRIEND, not a group. I fear groups. I am not sure why, I just don't like big gatherings.

My husband is the total opposite. Completely.

I have been trying really hard to more talkative out and about. The last thing I want is for someone to think I am snobbish. I may like you very much, I just don't know, because I don't know how on earth to begin talking with you all. I am perfectly content to sit there and listen to all you have to say, maybe chime in a time or two, but just soak up the conversations. That's me.

My husband thinks I'm crazy.

So I decided to start small. One on one with complete strangers. My theory? Learn to talk to total strangers one on one and a big room full of strangers will be nothing more than meeting someone one on one a million times over.

Yesterday I was watching Jr. He has an ear infection and the medicine gives him nasty diapers and he had had two. They were bad. So, I decided to take the garbage out even though it wasn't full because of the stench. On my way down the drive way (it was trash day), I decided to fill the bag up with trash from the yard.

It was about this moment that the garbage man pulled up. He looks like a Santa who is attempting to loose weight. I have assumed he likes to laugh a “ho ho ho” type of laugh, it would fit with his white beard. I smiled brightly and said “hello! Just have one more bag for ya!” He looked at me oddly. “Nice day today,” I added, brightly. He tossed the bag in the back of the truck. I went to peek around it too. “I've never really seen a garbage truck up close.” Keep in mind, he hasn't said ONE WORD to me. I am shocked to see....a dead chicken. Which would have come from our house. No doubt the boys seen it and tossed it in the can. I am sure the shock registered on my face. The man ran, literally ran, to his truck and mumbled a “have a nice day.”
“Yah, you too!” I waved. I will be hiding from the garbage man every week now.

Which brings me to today. Driving the boys to school this morning, I seen one of those toy dogs, all white with a big poofy tail. Girly dogs, I call them. I had never noticed this dog before, and I usually pay attention to such things. On my way home from school, the dog had made good time jaunting out of town, so, tying to forget the mishap of yesterday, I turned around and went back for it. I had seen tags on it and figured I would just call the owners and wait to see if they couldn't just pick it up where I sat on the side of the road.

I am bent down, my just washed hair falling in my face and totally make up less, still trying to get the coffee to work on my tired self. “Here puppy puppy puppy,” I called. The dog ran up, sniffed in my direction and ran off to pee on a tree. I tried again. As I was calling the dog again, a blue blazer pulled up behind me. He opened the passenger door and the dog just jumped in all wag tail happy.

Great. Busted for attempting to steal a dog.

I got in my suburban, and seen the guy wanted to say something, braced myself for the worst and rolled down my window. I then spilled my guts, “I am so sorry I was just going to see if I could call the owner I seen it this morning taking my kids to school and now I seen it way down here and I didn't want it to get hit honest I was just going to call.”

He stared at me a moment. “Where did you first see him?”

“At the train tracks on the way into school, and here now. I just know I would want someone to call me if my dog were missing.”

Silence.

Then he smiled nicely. “He gets off his chain. I don't have any idea how. I sure appreciate you stopping.”

I smiled. “No problem. Have a nice day!”

Well, maybe I can talk to strangers. I just wish it weren't all dramatic all the time.