Whoa!...Whoa.
I have 6 kids. 6. I'm not crazy, at least I'm not trying to be, but 6. Who am I and what am I thinking?!?!..and what have I done with Karen?
I've been helping one of the older boys with a book report for days. His idea is for me to bring the dog to class and tell about our dog. I asked him about the book...is the dog central to the story, is it a main character, is there any connection between him and the dog and the book, other than 'there is a boy in the book who has a dog, and I have a dog, so for my book report, I had my mom bring our dog and look, here he is, my mom can answer questions about him..'.?
His answer..."a boy in my class gave a book report and brought his dog..."
Me: What book was he reporting on?
Son: I don't know
Me: Was the dog a main character in his report?
Son: I'm not sure
Me: Why don't you get some more information?...Do a comparison between the boy in the book and his dog, and you and our dog...you can show ways that you are similar and point out differences...
Son: But the kid in my class didn't do that, he just showed us his dog.
Me: "I'm not crazy. You're the one that's crazy. You're driving me crazy. Put me in an institution. Said it was the only solution....
I recall a science fair project he did in the 4th or 5th grade...procrastinated and delayed until the night before when he panicked and I said "I Told You So" and I stayed up late into the night completing his project so he wouldn't fail...I won 3rd prize in the science fair, and I kept the medal!
I love my lovely little heathens...they make me so full of crazy!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
They're home!!!
My sons and daughter are home...all of them! Here, with Reed and me, I can hear the boys arguing about movies and video games in the next room.
The only problems with this happy return is that Matthew couldn't find his teddy bear, but just now Gabriel found Teddy, and I have a happy Matty...and that Gabe couldn't finish all his homework at his mom's because he forgot his text book, and she-who-must-not-be-named took it as a clear sign that he needs to be medicated for his epilepsy. (Gabe doesn't have epilepsy, and I'll be dead and cold in the earth before I give in and medicate him for a condition he doesn't have).
Happy Karen loves having all the kids home, they've all been thoroughly hugged, smooched, snuggled, and are in bed getting ready to sleep.
My idea of HEAVEN!
The only problems with this happy return is that Matthew couldn't find his teddy bear, but just now Gabriel found Teddy, and I have a happy Matty...and that Gabe couldn't finish all his homework at his mom's because he forgot his text book, and she-who-must-not-be-named took it as a clear sign that he needs to be medicated for his epilepsy. (Gabe doesn't have epilepsy, and I'll be dead and cold in the earth before I give in and medicate him for a condition he doesn't have).
Happy Karen loves having all the kids home, they've all been thoroughly hugged, smooched, snuggled, and are in bed getting ready to sleep.
My idea of HEAVEN!
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Kid Free Weekend
All the kids have been gone since last night and I'm still more or less sane. I know when they're here, I tell them they're my reason for insanity, but nicely, and usually while I'm hugging them. (Matthew climbed into bed with us one morning, and asked Reed, "Papa, will you hug my neck?" Since then we tell the kids we'll hug their necks when they're being snots. "You seem to be having trouble today, come here and I'll hug your neck until you feel loved, or pass out, which ever happens first)...and although we do hug and hold them all, we do not choke them....but "hug my neck" gives a very funny visual picture.
I miss them. Their endless chatter, Nathan jumping out of laundry hampers to suprise me, Gabriels' dry humor with perfectly straight face, Darrian being squirly and wiggly, Michaels' persistance and charm, CrystalLynn wanting to be within my eyesight...making sure I'm always close by and Matthew with his intense desire to be big like his brothers but stay our baby. I hope they all know how precious they are, and I wonder if I'm conveying that to them.
This week Reed and I've had four of the kids, at different times, come into our room in the middle of the night, needing reassurance and love because of scary dreams. Each time they've asked if they can stay with us for a while, we've squeezed them into bed to snuggle. I get to hold them and talk to them about calm, sweet, sensible happy thoughts, "Sing your favorite primary song in your head sweetheart, or say a prayer to help you feel better." I listen to them until they're breathing rhythmically and I know they're asleep, then I carry them back to their bed, tuck them in, and stay with them until they're settled. It's weird to see their rooms empty, so I pull the door closed, and try not to open it until they're back.
What amazing beings they are, and how fortunate I am to have them in my life...but tomorrow afternoon when they are supposed to return home is so far off, and I want them here now so I can see them and hold them and know that everything's alright with them!
I miss them. Their endless chatter, Nathan jumping out of laundry hampers to suprise me, Gabriels' dry humor with perfectly straight face, Darrian being squirly and wiggly, Michaels' persistance and charm, CrystalLynn wanting to be within my eyesight...making sure I'm always close by and Matthew with his intense desire to be big like his brothers but stay our baby. I hope they all know how precious they are, and I wonder if I'm conveying that to them.
This week Reed and I've had four of the kids, at different times, come into our room in the middle of the night, needing reassurance and love because of scary dreams. Each time they've asked if they can stay with us for a while, we've squeezed them into bed to snuggle. I get to hold them and talk to them about calm, sweet, sensible happy thoughts, "Sing your favorite primary song in your head sweetheart, or say a prayer to help you feel better." I listen to them until they're breathing rhythmically and I know they're asleep, then I carry them back to their bed, tuck them in, and stay with them until they're settled. It's weird to see their rooms empty, so I pull the door closed, and try not to open it until they're back.
What amazing beings they are, and how fortunate I am to have them in my life...but tomorrow afternoon when they are supposed to return home is so far off, and I want them here now so I can see them and hold them and know that everything's alright with them!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Crazy isn't covered on my insurance policy...
Ok, so I have a really big soap box about this subject, and it's only partly me being petty and complaining. My battle of choice?...Ex-husbands and ex-wives...particularly mine and Reeds.
I'm not professing to be perfect, goodness knows I make plenty of mistakes and like every toddler I'll try anything twice to make sure the outcome is not a fluke...but She-who-must-not-be-named is pushing way too hard. Three weeks ago, she ranted and raved that we wouldn't adjust our whole lives so that she can take the kids on weekends when she has money. I told Reed it sounds like a personal problem, and she'll have to deal, we're going by what we've got from the judge. (I don't want to find myself in contempt of court). She had such a fit that we gave her the next two weekends in a row. The first of which she blew off, and I thought she was blowing this one off too, but we finally heard from her. (We're supposed to hear by Wednesday night at the latest, otherwise we assume she's not coming because she usually doesn't).
So we're driving the kids to Tooele, so they can return crushed, detached, and despondent...and I can just about promise that Sunday she'll call in a panic and we'll have to go back to pick the kids up. And she'll stiff us on gas money, again. The last time she had them she called in a panic and had us pick them up a day early because she was being evicted. Well, that turned out to be a steaming pile of stinky Tooele poop. She's still in the same place, and we're waiting for the next lie...cause there always is a newer, bigger, uglier story.
She, herself, I couldn't care any less about, but the kids...Gabriel wanted to go on the young men/young women activity tomorrow, now he'll miss it. Last Friday when the kids asked if she was coming, I told them no, she said she had an absence of transportation, Darrian whooped, "Yahoo" and I was gratified that he wasn't disappointed about having to stay with me. She lets them down so frequently, and bless their hearts, they still hold out the impossible hope that she'll grow up and take an active interest in their lives.
The boys are going to You-Know-Who's this weekend, too. So I will be childless, and angry. I hate when my 6 precious heathens are gone. I hate when any of them are gone, but all 6 at once is a shock to my system. I'm in mom mode...homework, dance class, scouts, play dates, Sponge Bob, Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, laundry, dishes, dashing to their rooms when I hear a whimper or a cough...just ripping them away from me and hoping I'll manage without them here is not realistic...and besides, she's the one who left. Left her children, her husband...and without even a thought about how it would effect them...can't she just back off and let them be happy?!
I did warn before hand that I had a massive soap box about this, and this is just a scratch off the surface...a toned down, non-profanity laden completely devoid of promises of bloody violence, mellow ranting. (You should hear when she's done something stupid to endanger them or hurt their feelings...I wax poetic and psychotic about what she's done and how I'd like to deal with it).
...so in conclusion, I will leave you with the advice that I'm ready to give to many...If you don't want to spend time with your children, not want to take care of them or even be interested, don't have kids...and if you ignore this advice, don't try to salve your troubled conscence by doing a lazy, sorry, boneheaded job of being in their life when others are taking better care of, and love them infinately more than you can even comprehend.
AMEN
I'm not professing to be perfect, goodness knows I make plenty of mistakes and like every toddler I'll try anything twice to make sure the outcome is not a fluke...but She-who-must-not-be-named is pushing way too hard. Three weeks ago, she ranted and raved that we wouldn't adjust our whole lives so that she can take the kids on weekends when she has money. I told Reed it sounds like a personal problem, and she'll have to deal, we're going by what we've got from the judge. (I don't want to find myself in contempt of court). She had such a fit that we gave her the next two weekends in a row. The first of which she blew off, and I thought she was blowing this one off too, but we finally heard from her. (We're supposed to hear by Wednesday night at the latest, otherwise we assume she's not coming because she usually doesn't).
So we're driving the kids to Tooele, so they can return crushed, detached, and despondent...and I can just about promise that Sunday she'll call in a panic and we'll have to go back to pick the kids up. And she'll stiff us on gas money, again. The last time she had them she called in a panic and had us pick them up a day early because she was being evicted. Well, that turned out to be a steaming pile of stinky Tooele poop. She's still in the same place, and we're waiting for the next lie...cause there always is a newer, bigger, uglier story.
She, herself, I couldn't care any less about, but the kids...Gabriel wanted to go on the young men/young women activity tomorrow, now he'll miss it. Last Friday when the kids asked if she was coming, I told them no, she said she had an absence of transportation, Darrian whooped, "Yahoo" and I was gratified that he wasn't disappointed about having to stay with me. She lets them down so frequently, and bless their hearts, they still hold out the impossible hope that she'll grow up and take an active interest in their lives.
The boys are going to You-Know-Who's this weekend, too. So I will be childless, and angry. I hate when my 6 precious heathens are gone. I hate when any of them are gone, but all 6 at once is a shock to my system. I'm in mom mode...homework, dance class, scouts, play dates, Sponge Bob, Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, laundry, dishes, dashing to their rooms when I hear a whimper or a cough...just ripping them away from me and hoping I'll manage without them here is not realistic...and besides, she's the one who left. Left her children, her husband...and without even a thought about how it would effect them...can't she just back off and let them be happy?!
I did warn before hand that I had a massive soap box about this, and this is just a scratch off the surface...a toned down, non-profanity laden completely devoid of promises of bloody violence, mellow ranting. (You should hear when she's done something stupid to endanger them or hurt their feelings...I wax poetic and psychotic about what she's done and how I'd like to deal with it).
...so in conclusion, I will leave you with the advice that I'm ready to give to many...If you don't want to spend time with your children, not want to take care of them or even be interested, don't have kids...and if you ignore this advice, don't try to salve your troubled conscence by doing a lazy, sorry, boneheaded job of being in their life when others are taking better care of, and love them infinately more than you can even comprehend.
AMEN
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Swiss Days
Wow! I'll say it again, Wow! I've always enjoyed Swiss Days...not necessarily all the chaos, but I love the things that are offered...food, crafts, inflatable slides for the kids.
This year I had two kids performing, not just riding bikes in the parade with their school, but actually performing. Darrian and Crystal wanted to join the Children's Swiss Chorus, and I let them! The costumes were adorable, Darrian in white knee socks, (no, he wasn't thrilled about that part) and Crystal all Swissed up, like the St. Provo's girl but with less cleavage.
They were adorable, they sang, Darrian rang a bell, they danced, and I was a teary eyed, 'Oh gosh, look how big my babies are'...and as Reed said, "Such a girl."
Gabriel signed up to work on the square for 1 shift of 3 hours. By Saturday night he'd spent a total of 11 hours working in the heat, and he loved it. Maybe I'm not giving the kids enough responsibility....
The best part was walking to and from the town square to browse, get kids to performances and parades on time, and take them back home to change again so as not to destroy their costumes. I think I walked down and back about 5 times in 2 days. I had shin splints, and my calves were on fire...I believe I could us it in an exercise program...the Swiss Days leg toner.
Fun pain or not, my 2 days of endless walking didn't make my legs amazing, so I'll try harder next year.
Loves to All!
This year I had two kids performing, not just riding bikes in the parade with their school, but actually performing. Darrian and Crystal wanted to join the Children's Swiss Chorus, and I let them! The costumes were adorable, Darrian in white knee socks, (no, he wasn't thrilled about that part) and Crystal all Swissed up, like the St. Provo's girl but with less cleavage.
They were adorable, they sang, Darrian rang a bell, they danced, and I was a teary eyed, 'Oh gosh, look how big my babies are'...and as Reed said, "Such a girl."
Gabriel signed up to work on the square for 1 shift of 3 hours. By Saturday night he'd spent a total of 11 hours working in the heat, and he loved it. Maybe I'm not giving the kids enough responsibility....
The best part was walking to and from the town square to browse, get kids to performances and parades on time, and take them back home to change again so as not to destroy their costumes. I think I walked down and back about 5 times in 2 days. I had shin splints, and my calves were on fire...I believe I could us it in an exercise program...the Swiss Days leg toner.
Fun pain or not, my 2 days of endless walking didn't make my legs amazing, so I'll try harder next year.
Loves to All!
Friday, September 5, 2008
Mmm...food!
Meal time is always complete chaos at our house. My two youngest, particularly, tickle my fancy frequently with their take on the English language as it applies to what we're eating.
One day in the kitchen, I was preparing lunch for my two sweet babies, (then currently 4 years old). Crystal asked what I was doing. "Making lunch," I said.
Smiling, she asked, "what kind of lunch?"
"Soup."
"What kind of soup?"
"Chicken."
"Chicken Little?" This she said with a straight face.
"Yes honey, Chicken Little."
The next was within weeks. I'd prepared an amazing meal, and when the kids were called to the table they decided that it wasn't what they were eating. In frustration, I asked what they wanted instead. The four big boys wanted grilled cheese sandwiches. Crystal said she, also, wanted a "girl" cheese sandwich. Matthew, the youngest and most determined to never be left out or out done piped up with, "I don't want girl cheese. I want a boy cheese sandwich."
The most recent food funny happened the other night with Brussel sprouts. Matthew, now almost 6, has decided that salad is ok and not a major source of contamination on his plate. As the bigger kids piled the sprouts onto their own plates, (What can I have done so wrong that my kids think Brussel sprouts are a treat?), Matthew protested from the table. "Mom, I want some little salad balls too!"
The food not-so-funny isn't the kids at all, but me. Some time ago, my husband found that if I laugh at the right moment while trying to swallow my food or beverage, I snort it into my sinus' and sometimes it comes clear out my nose. It started with a fudge brownie, and has included soda, Swiss Days bratzlies, ice cream of many varieties, breakfast sausage, sticky fingers at Winger's, pasta...you get the general idea.
This was bad enough when it was only Reed trying to induce this reaction, but the kids have learned from his example, and it is now a favorite family pastime to try and make stuff fly out mom's nose during meals. Ewww, gross!...yes I agree, and I'm appalled that my nose is the nose committing the offense!
I've resorted to eating before or after everyone else, to avoid and nasal-digestive complications. The boys have now resorted to making one another spray edible things. I may be raising them to be heathens, but they're all such sweet little heathens!
One day in the kitchen, I was preparing lunch for my two sweet babies, (then currently 4 years old). Crystal asked what I was doing. "Making lunch," I said.
Smiling, she asked, "what kind of lunch?"
"Soup."
"What kind of soup?"
"Chicken."
"Chicken Little?" This she said with a straight face.
"Yes honey, Chicken Little."
The next was within weeks. I'd prepared an amazing meal, and when the kids were called to the table they decided that it wasn't what they were eating. In frustration, I asked what they wanted instead. The four big boys wanted grilled cheese sandwiches. Crystal said she, also, wanted a "girl" cheese sandwich. Matthew, the youngest and most determined to never be left out or out done piped up with, "I don't want girl cheese. I want a boy cheese sandwich."
The most recent food funny happened the other night with Brussel sprouts. Matthew, now almost 6, has decided that salad is ok and not a major source of contamination on his plate. As the bigger kids piled the sprouts onto their own plates, (What can I have done so wrong that my kids think Brussel sprouts are a treat?), Matthew protested from the table. "Mom, I want some little salad balls too!"
The food not-so-funny isn't the kids at all, but me. Some time ago, my husband found that if I laugh at the right moment while trying to swallow my food or beverage, I snort it into my sinus' and sometimes it comes clear out my nose. It started with a fudge brownie, and has included soda, Swiss Days bratzlies, ice cream of many varieties, breakfast sausage, sticky fingers at Winger's, pasta...you get the general idea.
This was bad enough when it was only Reed trying to induce this reaction, but the kids have learned from his example, and it is now a favorite family pastime to try and make stuff fly out mom's nose during meals. Ewww, gross!...yes I agree, and I'm appalled that my nose is the nose committing the offense!
I've resorted to eating before or after everyone else, to avoid and nasal-digestive complications. The boys have now resorted to making one another spray edible things. I may be raising them to be heathens, but they're all such sweet little heathens!
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