Glimpse Into Our Morning Runs to School

As I finally made it thru the school doors this morning to drop the two oldest boys only off to school, the girls who hold the door open for me, viewed my boys and my morning, and all laughed and someone who knows me well says “You should just have someone do a documentary on your trips to school. Then you would be rich.”

If I were rich, I’d go spend a day at the spa. Wouldn’t that be grand?

I don’t have request for a documentary but I can blog!

My husband teased me that I had slept in, I try to convince him that I WOULD get up early but I can’t because our cat sleeps on our bed. Well, technically, she sleeps on top of me, on my back or shoulder, whichever happens to be the best resting spot. I wake every morning thinking I am shedding white hair and panic only momentarily to realize it was just the cat. I could never sleep in any morning anyhow, my dog won’t let me.

Son2 is ALWAYS the first one awake. He is all geared up for a run at school tomorrow, the fact that his birthday is coming up and that tomorrow he should be able to wear shorts. He’s a happy kid, it’s a great morning for him.

When he finishes his cereal, my husbands cat (he would deny this forever but he does love this little scrawny kitten. I got to name the other cat; this little one is Shotgun Shell. Can you tell we have boys?) knocks over a lily and a candle holder off a table trying to get some loving from anyone.

And then the two youngest boys come tumbling down the steps. The youngest is filling me in how he beat up coyotes so they didn’t get his blanket last night and the older is wailing and moaning because no one has poured him is cereal. Within less than a minute, the two youngest get in an argument over who had more cereal or some such nonsense.

When everyone is settled and eating, our oldest son comes sleepily down the steps. Except he will deny he is sleepy. He moves exceptionally slow compared to his brothers, and yet, we have not had to wait for him. I have never figured this out.

Over cereal, we discuss the weird huge marshmallow we found in the Son1’s bowl of lucky charms, how crocs are not great running shoes, how crocs can make you run fast though, how gym shoes are not crocs, how crocs are the best shoes…..it’s a hot topic at the table right now.

Son2 wants some exercise since he is all ready for school. He gears up in leather work gloves, his trusty camo hat, an orange stocking cap and the white jersey coat he had to have that is forever dirty to go out and ride his bike before we leave. This causes a mad dash to the window to sit on the only chair by the window that suddenly two boys want to see out of at the same time. It’s like they have never seen Son2 ride his bike before. Son3 has perfected blocking the entire view from anyone else. Son4 has perfected how to climb on top of Son3 to climb over top of him to see out the window. This always causes huge shouts of annoyance.

In mere moments, a bunch of doors are slammed. Our house is a bunch of doors. Son3 is dressed in his favorite lion jammies, his cowboy boots are ka-clicking thru the house, his red winter jacket is on and his John Deere bike helmet. He’s off to race bikes with Son2.

Son4 HAS to be outside then! He digs thru the monstrous basket of socks to find some, brings me his Lightening shoes and bemoans the fact that I did not get his Lightening jammies washed last night so he could be wearing those instead. He puts on his coat, determined to zip it himself, and puts on an orange stocking cap we have to brush sticks off of. Once I get it on his head, he does a little song “I’m a cool Dude, like Jude!” he dances and heads out the door.

We all climb into “mommy bus” (Son3 calls it this), and Son1 makes it right on time, as usual. We buckle down, crank our latest favorite song we have on cd borrowed from the library and if we hit song three and crank the stereo, it actually sounds like we are a big huge tractor starting up and headed on the road. The boys find this SO cool. As a girl raised with tractors, even I giggle at it too. It is cool!

When we get to school, it actually looks like a flood of camo and orange flowing from the door. The all fall over each other to see who can get out first and then they run for all they are worth up the sidewalk.

I count. Son2 is in the lead. Son3 is still in boots and helmet and in second. Son1 is meandering up the walk. Son4 is running for all he is worth but since he is the last one out he is the last in line and as soon as he realizes it, he is crushed and begins wailing. “They all beat me!” he wails.

I have to football hold him up the main doors where Son3 is standing there talking to the teachers about his boots, jammies and helmet. Upon seeing Son3, Son4 falls all apart again and won’t stand. He turns into a sloth. His legs won’t work. He clings to me. I can take my hands away and he just hangs there.

I nod my head hello and say “Good morning, everyone!” cheerily. How can I not? They are all laughing!

We drop each boy off at their class, going over again what we are having for dinner. Everyone must hug. And being boys, when they hug each other they must try to pick the other one up or, in the case of Son3&4, they must hang on their brothers. You can’t miss us, we really stand out – even in all camo.

On the way out the door, I have to drop a note off to the gym teacher saying “please stress to the kids the need for gym shoes and not crocs on the mile run. Apparently Moma’s don’t know best and gym teachers do”.

Everyone must pat Son3 on his helmeted head as we walk thru the hallway. It dawns on me that it didn’t even faze me how ridiculously funny he looks. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

And that is a glimpse into the first two hours of my morning, five days a week! Now do you see why the coffee is always on?

Funny Random Stories

The boys have come up with some funny stuff lately and so I just had to share a few….

I had gone to one of the “big” stores, the ones where you buy in bulk, and got some salsa. It was a big jar of salsa. At dinner, our oldest says “Whoa! That’s a lot of salsa! I’d like to see what the large looks like if this is the medium!”

Our second son is Red Wings fanatic. The game is on tonight. He runs thru the house to give me a play by play every few seconds – even though to do so he is missing the game and yelling over the TV volume I think the neighbors can hear.

Our third son ends everything with “yah, baby”. It’s annoying. He doesn’t say so many funny things as he does them. He climbed something the other day and was all like “Moma, you have to come see this cool thing!” I figured it might be in my best interest to check it out. I walked out the door to him running “smoking fast” and saying “yah, baby!” He climbed a gate that was just leaning against our chicken coop, up the chicken coop fence to the fence we have as a roof of the chicken yard so that wild animals can’t get in. I took a photo and then told him to NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!

I could write a novel just on the funny things our youngest says and does. I would dedicate a day to him…well, maybe, I just should do that. Anyhow…our youngest has a blanket that is really my old robe. He loves this thing and drags it EVERYWHERE. And it’s huge. He also has a huge fear of coyotes. He talks about them constantly. He whistles high pitched screeches when outside to ‘call them in’. He is big and tough all day talking about shooting coyotes. Keep in mind, he has never ever seen one. They are (currently) not an issue with us yet, we have heard them before, however. Anyhow, he now wakes up in the middle of the night with a sharp quick scream, pounds down the steps dragging the robe and nearly flies into our bed where he throws the blanket over his head. And this is a boy who hates to be covered up at night. In the morning it is always the same story…coyotes were crawling up the steps to get his blanket. Two mornings ago he woke with a scratch on his ankle, evidence, he is sure, that the coyotes were very close to getting it. He keeps a sharp look out now at all times, as if he hadn’t before.

Well, gotta sign off. The older two boys are playing hockey and I am in center ice about to be hit by the dogs squeaky toy that the boys are using for a puck. Our third is in bed wailing, he always does before school…he is so excited to go to school he can’t sleep and the more he can’t sleep the more he wails in fear that no sleep means no school. It takes him a good hour to fall asleep. And our youngest, I kid you not, is sitting in a chair by the window keeping an eye out for the coyotes. But at least he is just singing “April in the “D” “ this time and not trying to call the coyotes in.

The Day I Could Have Been Arrested

My computer has been broken for quite some time…well, almost a week and it
seemed like forever! While away from my computer (while the amazing R.R.
fixed the unfixable), I thought of a trillion things to write on (or so it
seemed at the time) and this one is from the first day without my
computer. Enjoy!

The Day I Could Have Been Arrested

The day was anything but typical. I was feeling lost and so very disconnected. My computer was no more, attacked by some vicious awful virus that seemed to be the death of it. No one had high hopes for it, at all.

With it loaded in the back of my vehicle, I headed off to our friends who offered to look at it – and give me prices on new ones. I had dropped the older of the two boys off at school and was driving along on a road I could drive in my sleep, deep in thought.

Now, usually I pay very close attention to my driving surroundings. I carry precious cargo! And, for whatever reason, deer seem attracted to any vehicle I drive or have owned – one totaled the ultra cool car I once owned. But, I wasn’t today and suddenly I looked up to see a police car, a county cop to be exact, RIGHT on my bumper. I don’t know where he came from or how long he was there but I did what anyone else would do.

I hit my brakes.

I didn’t jerk to a stop, I just came to a slower speed and looked down at my speedometer to see I wasn’t speeding. I don’t know, I might have been before, but I was instantly panicked. Doing nothing wrong, I see a cop and panic.

I was coming up to my cousins house. My cousin whose home I have never been into before, never told her I was stopping in, and even though it was 8:15 in the morning I figured, hey, no time like the present to say hello! And, she DID have some bug spray for me and she WAS going to meet up with me that week sometime… she was very gracious to me as I walked in on her busy household. I have four boys, she has three girls and mornings, I imagine, are the same level of craziness either place!

I left quickly, feeling bad for dropping in, continued a bit to the stop sign and…

…THERE WAS THE SAME COP!

I was SURE he had been waiting for me so I turned like I was supposed to and he whipped right behind me. I drove along, five miles BELOW the speed limit, which I must admit would be aggravating and I did feel a little bad for him, imagining my husband stuck behind someone who is driving slow (he has no patience for slow drivers, I’m not sure why he married me, maybe to balance him out….but I regress!) I was looking for a place to pull over, certain I must have been speeding unknowingly or my vehicle was a match for a crime vehicle or anything else I could imagine so I pulled over on a side road, a back road, no cop would ever think to take.

He didn’t follow me.

I finally exhaled, laughed at myself and my crazy imagination and continued – slowly, to let the cop get way ahead of me – down the back roads I know well.

I would like to take this moment to remind you that this is a very true story. That just happened last Tuesday, in fact.

As I turned onto the main road again to continue to our friends house where my computer was to be fixed (which is why I was on the road at all!), THERE WAS THE COP!

I now knew I was for sure going to be arrested now just on suspicion. Come on, THREE times in a five mile radius (if that even) and I had dunked away every time?

But, he had someone pulled over. I have never been so happy to see someone else pulled over EVER. (and if it is you, I do feel badly for you!)

I arrived at my friends, told them the story, we had a good chuckle, said my final good byes to my computer, and went on to town to the library, a place I visit regularly. As I drove into town, five miles BELOW the speed limit, there was the SAME cop AGAIN!

People, I can not lie about such a thing.

I laughed right out loud. He was going the opposite direction and I did my business quickly at the library, drove like a snail all the way home (constantly watching over my shoulder, of course), never to leave my driveway for that day again.

My husband thinks I am a nutcase driver now. But hey, at least I didn’t get arrested for driving too nutcase like!

And that is the first story I have from my week off and as soon as I get my laundry taken care of – wait, that’s never done – I’ll write more!

Updates from Earlier Blogs

I am sure you are all concerned about my pink fingernail polish. It looked great for Easter. It went great with my favorite blue dress.

We got our family photos back. My husband says he can see stress in his very forced smile. I am not red and blotchy, thank goodness, but not a lot of joy shining from those eyes of mine. However, they turned out MUCH better than we thought they would. We didn't get enough photos of the boys but I guess that just means more photos to be taken at the photographers. HAHAHA!

This was probably one of my most favorite Easter's in quite some time. I love Easter. Love the reason, the time of the year, that my extended family is here for dinner...love it. I got this email on Easter from a friend of mine and her Easter service and it struck me deeply I just wanted to share it with you.....

Our Easter service was incredibly sad. The pastor who has been preaching at our church got cancer and is receiving chemo. He's got to be in his mid 80's. This morning he was determined to preach. He started out great. Strong clear voice, standing up, maybe a little thin with less hair, but still lookin good. Half way thru his sermon (which was a great one) he sat on a stool that had been there for him. Suddenly his voice got softer, his words began to slur. Finally he was unable to speak and was a deathly shade of gray. The congregation was silent, women were quietly crying and everyone looked concerned. A few men went up to the front and got him into a wheelchair and took him out the back. We sang the last two songs, someone prayed and it was over.

While scary and sad, what a beautiful thing to know that this man wants to serve God until the day he dies. Even if he is ill or weak. He has the assurance that God will take him home, especially on this day.

Beautiful...just wanted to share..........

Love or Nail Polish?

It's spring break over here and I have been trying not to be on the computer much at all. And the boys have a free trial of education city so I just don't get to HAVE the computer that much! But they are all watching a short movie so I can do a short blog before I try to find my house...cuz, remember, it is spring break.

Yesterday we drove up aways away to visit one of my very dear friends. She has three boys and they all play well and any time we have to visit I just cherish it. We soak it up...who knows when we will get together again? I had called ahead to tell her I was running late (as normal) and would appreciate food, caffeine and nail polish. When I arrived, she had a gourmet looking lunch, caffeine and a bottle of nail polish and polish remover sitting out for me. I felt spoiled! After lunch I sat at the counter and painted my nails as we chatted and the boys played outside. The momentary silence was nice, we knew it wouldn't last very long, and she had a cool color of pink I didn't have so instead of just painting my toenails, I decided to do my finger nails. I never paint my finger nails, it's just going to chip so fast but this weekend is Easter and I thought, "why not?"

No exaggeration...as SOON as I finished my nails, son#2 ran into the house and to tell us that we had a problem. Son#3 had fallen into the mud puddle. And son#2 was grinning, so we knew it was bad.

My friend has a HUGE mud puddle in the back of her yard. Before letting them out of the house, we had done the whole mom routine..."There is a mud puddle out there. You do not go near it, you do not touch it, you do not play with it, you stay away from the mud puddle." To which all the boys nod their heads and say "Yes, Moma". And then, just to drive the point home more, I say "what are you supposed to do?" "Not play in the puddle," they respond and then they had flown out the door, yelling with joy.

And I had painted my nails.

I went out on the porch carefully. I did not touch the door with my fingers, I used my palms. I stood there in my bare feet (I couldn't put shoes on, I had just painted my toes too!) and listened as the wail became louder. Finally, son#3 rounds the corner of the garage and, well, words fail me.

He was covered from the middle of his head, all down his face, his entire shirt, his entire pants and his boots were COVERED in muddy water. It was literally dripping down his face.

I just had to laugh.

"Did you go into the mud puddle?" I asked.

"No" he shakes his head emphatically, " I jumped OVER the puddle, but I fell in it."

I told him to take his clothes off and we would give him a bath. But he was soaked, he could not peel those clothes off of him for anything and he is standing there in the middle of the front yard wailing. I looked at my wet nails, I looked at my wailing wet son, I looked at my wet nails, and I turned to son#2 and said "help your brother."

I did. I chose nail polish over love.

How sad am I ?

The thing is, he couldn't get those clothes off. They were suctioned to his body. My friend jumped off the porch and helped get his clothes off. She took his boots off and literally POURED the water out of them.

I wish I had taken a picture, I am pretty sure I could have done that without smugging my nails, but I didn't have the camera with me. It would be a classic, though. Almost worth the drive back to see him try it again!

I did help him into the tub, scrubbed him down, dried him off, borrowed clothes for him and got him dressed and he seemed no worse for the wear from it all. They all did not go out side to play for the rest of the visit.

And that is ONE story from this week. Stay tuned...we got baby chicks on the way home.

The Chicken in the School Hall

What I am about to tell you is completely true...and it happened this morning and I can tell I am going to be repeating myself all weekend about it so I might as well tell ya'll about it.

There was a chicken in our school hallway this morning.

Please keep in mind...my boys know chickens. Yesterday we just finally picked out all our chicks to be delivered to our house later this year. We know our chickens. We have pet chickens. We sing about chickens around here!

And today, we seen one in our school hallway.

It was our oldest son's teacher dressed as a chicken.

I have no idea why she was dressed that way at all. I would have never known it was her if I hadn't seen her walk out the classroom and son 1 and his buddy said "oh, that's just our teacher."

But sons 3 and 4, they didn't know what to think. 4's eyes were as big as saucers and he was NOT moving from my side. 3 has to touch things, people...everything. He sees the big chicken and he has to touch the feathers, the wings, look at the feet. The big chicken then made a HUGE mistake...

...she bent down to say hello to 3.

Well, he had her then. I mean, this is your one chance to catch the biggest chicken he has ever seen and he is not letting this chance pass him by.

He grabbed a hold of that plastic beak and spread it as far as he could, yanked and pulled it to try to see if it would get off.

I would have been a little faster pulling my son off the chicken, but I was in shock. And when I snapped to, 4 was clinging to me. I think he was sure 3 was a total goner!

Well, 3 let her go, chuckling because he realized it was really a person, and giant chicken continued down the hallway. I seen a little girl, about two, dunk behind her brother and then look back up to him as if to say "did I just see what I just saw?"

I turned to my oldest son and said "Better not be squawkin' all day". He looked at me, shock registering on his face that his mother had just made a joke. AND that it was kinda funny.

And that, everyone, was my drop off story for today.

You just never know when you are going to see a chicken in the hallway at school!

It's Really Spring

I am writing this post in honor of my husband!

Well, spring has officially arrived in our home - my husband who has had a winter of working hard here at home is back to working hard on construction AND here. It'll take awhile to get used to the new regular change back to normal life.

In the winter, my husband takes the boys back and forth to school for me every morning, unless he has something big going on. He will rework his schedule just to take them in the morning. This gives me the morning to sleep in, wear my pj's extra long, exercise while he is gone and gives me an excuse to have a yummy breakfast in the morning (cuz he makes me omelets).

We settle into a relaxed schedule. It's wonderful! I go from having to run all errands to the store and being the 'mom taxi' to getting all kinds of help and being taken care of and I soak it all up. It's great. I feel all loved well cared for.

In the spring/summer/fall seasons, I do it all. My husband puts in long hours at his 'regular' job and then he puts in even more hours here at home with the garden (I don't know if you can call seven or eight acres of perfectionly cared for vegetables a 'garden'.) and we do just fine and dandy working that way but the winter is our time to reconnect. And by the time winter rolls around, we NEED to reconnect!

But in the winter we get lazy, we relax and sure, sometimes get on each other's nerves. The boys love coming home to see their Daddy and getting his help on homework. They wish they could stay home, they are sure that when Daddy is home we have all sorts of fun. And they are sort of right, we go out for lunch and breakfast sometimes and we don't ever EVER do that any other time.

So Wednesday began our day back into 'real life'.

My boys do not think it nearly as cool to arrive at school in our suburban than to arrive in their Daddy's pride and joy a rusty, old, covered in bumper stickers little gray car. I will admit here that I broke down and got them a new CD to help them enjoy the ride a bit more (- or was that me who needs to enjoy the ride more, not hearing how Daddy goes a LOT faster than this? or that Daddy does donuts, etc.....)

My husband and I have this little game we play. I once asked him what I did that made him feel loved. He said it was making up his special coffee. Now he holds his coffee up and lets me know when it gone or rattles a spoon to let me know it's gone. He gives me the most devilish grin when he does, and it's really funny to see people's reaction to him telling me to 'hop to' to get his coffee not knowing it's a game we play. I missed getting him his coffee in the worst way yesterday.

And while I was wandering the house lost and in a very sleepy state from getting up way earlier than I have in weeks(remember, I said I was getting lazy over the winter!), hearing our youngest say every five minutes "where is my Daddy? where are my guys?" I wondered, did I tell my husband how much I appreciate all the little things he did for me while he was home? Does he know I appreciate him?

Does your husband know you appreciate him?

Just something heavy on my mind today...................................