Happy Belated GIS Day

Which was last week, but never mind. It's a big deal at my company and part of the National Geographic Society's Geography Week. Read a little more about it here.

I've had a couple more articles published and you can read about them here. Hopefully these will give you a better idea of my work and how exciting my company and working with our clients can be. Not that staying home with five kids on Thanksgiving break isn't exciting. Trust me.

And the weekend rocked. Although just when we thought we had a place on easy street with no more baseball on Sunday, it was quickly replaced by activities - kind of like air rushing into a vaccum - by a baptism and a birthday party. We also managed to squeeze in movie night with KungFu Panda, which I missed part of with a work call to Australia. At least I can live vicariously through the phone lines.

The big news is Jared's team rocked at the football playoff 2nd game series and he's going to the superbowl. Which maybe not as exciting as it sounds since it's in,.. Menifee. (No slander intended all you Menifites out there.) It does mean we are stuck here in Y-town for the Thanksgiving break. Not so bad, but between baby naps, laundry and football practice, not a lot of time left to do major activities. So, does looking at the pets at Petco count as a fun activity? You bet it does. Welcome to my exciting life

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Here's Jared's pass right before he got knocked into next week by these three dudes at the same time. It was like a massive heimlick maneuver - the ball jutted about six feet, Jared laid in a crumpled heap on the field.

Here he is asking the Athletic Director and the coach if he caught the ball. Short term memory is the first to go in a tackle.

Two touchdowns and I have to brave another football game this year.

The fam.

The Weekend: Too Many Boys, Hugging Coaches and Fairy Tales

We are still here! Someday I'll blog regularly again (uhm,.. don't hold your breath)

The big news - we were brave enough and finally granted poor little Zachy his slumber party. We had three other boys (besides our three boys) spend the night. Everyone had a great time. My wonderful, wonderful friend watched Sophia so even I could trekk to the movie theater and watch Madagascar 2. I love those stupid movies. Long Live King Julian! Actually, I think we laughed harder than the kids. Which shouldn't really be a big shocker, since, according to my chidlren, everyone but them has seen SAW I, II, III, IV AND V. I give up. I am happy to be that quirky, quakerish mom up the street who doesn't let her boys wear their shorts around their knees, expects them to watch things that don't involve human torture or illicit sex and wants them to get good grades in school. I know, who the heck do I think I am?

Case in point? I spent my time in the stands at Zach's football playoff game listening to parents discuss the merits of Club Fantasy strip club over Club 215 due to the lower cover charge and the $5 pitchers. Hmmm... these are parents of second and third graders. I'd say I wasn't very worldly, but actually, sorry, that's not the case. Me and my old fashioned morals. Gosh darn it.

Anyway, Zach lost unfortunately. He played a great game, and it was tough, but someone has to loose, right? No thanks to the heavy dust devils and 500 mph 90 degree wind - I had to remove my lipstick as soon as I got out of the car because dirt was sticking to my lips. Not the fashion statement I was striving for.

Jared, on the other hand, WON! And he caught a pass that got the team their first of two touchdowns. It looked like this:

Then the coaches looked like this:

He has that effect on his coaches. Poor kid; we move so much he has to prove himslef over and over again. He has my utmost respect and I SWEAR I will try my darnedest to stay put so he can play football on the same team for two years in a row and start out closer to where his abilities land him, instead of as the water boy, as it has been in the past.

After the big win, to the movie where we ate 50$ worth of popcorn and M&Ms (actually not as much as you'd think, this is SoCal.), then to Little Ceasar's for lots of greasy pizza, then home for Reese's cake, flashlight tag and football in the dark and creepy community park, more snacks like flamin' hot cheetos to sustain the kids, then bed. Up early for hot tubbin' and pancakes. Boot all the little boys not named Richardson and head to Mass then Kyle's last baseball game. Then home for a psuedo nap (you know, when you are on the verge of sleep but someone who shall remain nameless keeps making noise and you wake up) then hubby attempts to put in a new thermostat, and I leave him alone with small children when I go to the store, only to come home to a dark, not on the electric grid anymore house and think the worst. He's okay thank goodness. But, the thermostat is strewn in a slew of small electrical components in a three foot spread on one of my nice pieces of furniture, so I'm actually happy for all that extra carbon dioxide so I don't freeze to death as we attempt to find time to buy electrical tape and longer wires before the first frigid temps of oh, say,.. 50ish degrees.

The tale of the big princess and the little princess.

by Sophia Richardson

I suppose my life will get better when I get older. I look at my sister, the B, (I guess as in Queen Bee) and see her charmed life.

She hangs around and drinks Hot ChaCha from Starbucks.

When she's had enough hot cha cha to sustain her energy, she does ballet.

Me? I'm the little sister. When I'm not in the dog kennel,

I'm doing chores.

Oh, I'M KIDDING.

They are both spoiled. Believe me.

XOXO,

Muddlin' Mother She has my grimace, don't you think? And she's a mean stair climber already,.. unfortunately,...

Oh yeah, Halloween

Happy Halloween!



First was the halloween party at toddler gym, where as you can see, Fifi is all about separation anxiety and trusting no one but her mom,..


Then there was the magical box from Grandma Z with the cool Halloween treats - like this, the cat that poops brown jelly beans, .. and the skeleton that poops candy,.. and the gummy tape worms and the enlarged gummy tongue. Gee, thanks Grandma, I think!?!?




But a holiday is just not right without a trip to the EMERGENCY ROOM. Let me quickly recap. Christmas? Zach at the ER on the blessed eve. New Year's? Six hours in urgent care on the first day of the New Year with Jared, frantically nursing a three week old infant and crying silently to myself in the bathroom. Halloween? Mommy thinks it'll be just dandy to take the B to ride a pony at the pumpkin patch. Get to the patch. No ponies. Pay a ridiculous amount of money to have goats eat the shirts off our backs (plesae see picture above). Sit down for overpriced pizza at picnic table. B gets stung by a bee on her cheek. Cry, kiss, Dora bandaid, everything is fine. She wakes up from her nap. Slightly swollen cheek. By the time we get back from trick or treating it is pretty darned swollen. Call nurse hotline. Daddy makes like the EMT he should have been and speeds her to the ER. Long story short.. there was a secondary infection of the sting. What does that mean in layman terms? There was probably GOAT POOP ON THE STINGER OF THE BEE. You know what fate? I am a mom of five kids; a toddler who needs a solid wipe, a baby who needs a diaper change AND a puppy who does not know the meaning of HOUSEBROKEN. I HAVE ENOUGH POOP IN MY LIFE. I DON"T NEED A BEE STINGER WITH IT AS WELL.

Anyway, on with the story

We had a great holiday. Here it is in pictures:

Halloween really brings out our competitive spirit - lucky for us St. Frances has a 'Trunk or Treat' we can attend to play games and do a dry run for the BIG NIGHT.

Kyle racing on something with wheels, what's new, eh?

The old sack race, and I don't mean, 'the kids get to race against the old sack,.." sheesh,...

The zen mastery of the bean bag...

Then we were visited by the angels,..

Don't let what mommy tells you sway you,.. this isn't a halloween costume,.. really,

Well, you have to walk before you can fly,..

And when you're too tired to crawl, walk or fly,.. have daddy carry you,.

Dude, it isn't easy wearing a halo,

Seriously, it ain't easy,

But when you figure it out, it really pays off!

Did I mention the serious wind tunnel we have in our house?

Brothers,.. forever!

The before picture,..




And the after,...



This is what I call 'the pensive ghoul'

Most of our ghoulish crew,.. it's hard to get those spirits to sit still for a picture you know.



Resolution for the new year: feed Kyle more.




Some more of the motley crew in the front yard,.. dude, is that Kyle?

Argh,.. it took Fifi a little getting used to having a pirate for a daddy.

Nothin' like a pirate feeding ya dinner, ya scurvy dog!






My oldest, .. he makes me so proud!

Ballerina Baby

I'm gong to wax poetic about the B. Well, I'm going to show you pictures and that is probably enough. : ) This is our first ballet class. We did toddler gym when she was 1 1/2 to have some special time together before Fifi arrived. And we do 'toddler bootcamp' at the library (more fun that it sounds, honestly!) Excited for our first dance class! Thanks for the hand me down ballet baby clothes to my good friend Beth!!!!

The warm up.

Plie. (I don't have time to find the french accent thingy on keyboard. You get the picture.)

Barre work.

The Patch

Free range pumpkins fed only Crystal Geyser water. They are happier that way.

As I said the other day, we hit the pumpkin patch. We did it out of nostalgia's sake; this patch has rumored to have been bought out by Target so this is the LAST YEAR! Don't miss this once in a life time opportunity! So we bit the marketing bullet and went. After forking out some big ol' coins on a gaggle of pumpkins we exited the parking lot only to read the sign on the way out exclaiming 'SEE YOU IN 2009!' What suckers we are.

But we did it mainly so the B could pick out her very own pumpkin, in the pumpkin forest. You know, these SoCal kids forget that milk doesn't actually come from a container. Chicken has feathers. Hamburger used to moo. The patch is kind of like going into nature to shoot and skin your first deer, but with less blood and more seeds. It's all about the satisfaction of picking your very own pumpkin.

But really, look how excited she was to find out that pumpkins really do grow on trees. Well, vines. You see my point. It was fun.

Now, don't go taking pumpkins from babies.

Sophie gave us her opinion on many pumpkins, too.

The happy hunters.

Great greasy gobs...

Do you remember that poem from childhood?

Great green gobs of
greasy, grimy gopher guts
marinated monkey meat
itsy bitsy birdie feet
french fried eyeballs
drowned in a pool of blood
and I forgot my spoon.

... but I found a straw! (big slurping sound follows)

My boys have NOTHING over me.

I'm just excited I found my brain gelatin mold in order to use it one more time and really, really get my money's worth.

Today, with only four days left, we FINALLY went to the pumpkin patch. Spent a ridiculous amount of money on pumpkins when at the grocery store just down the street I could get a blue ribbon 500 pound pumpkin on sale for about $3.00. But it's the ambience, you know? What's halloween without going to the patch and yelling every five minutes: "no, you can't go in the bouncy house." "no, you can't go on the ATV." "no, we're not here to ride ponies." "did everyone forget? We're here to get PUMPKINS." Then get your foot run over by the wheel barrow your eldest son is jockeying down the aisleways of pumpkins, praying he doesn't ram into the side of the display meaning you have to pay for 40 pumpkins instead of the four the kids have taken ten hours to pick out and you need to get a loan to afford, but there's a financial crisis, so here, take my youngest child, I have more.

Then home. No wait. We have to eat, so cruise into the grocery store to buy some cooked chickens. (don't want to delay the pumpkin carving frenzy any more than necessary) Get in the car to four whining voices coming from the back of the SUV asking what's for dinner. Answer big old chicken to invoke the chorus of "I call a leg!" To which I answer - "Relax - there's enough for everybody!" To which they respond - " YOU BOUGHT A FOUR LEGGED CHICKEN?"

OMGosh. No, boys, I bought TWO TWO LEGGED CHICKENS. Do the math.

It's A Bump, Not a Fork

Well, I'll be honest. I find I'm having a tough time and lacking some faith. I don't know what it is. I'm feeling rather unholy these days. I've never completely tripped off the stairway to heaven, but I've had my setbacks; it's the journey, not the destination, right? Can I possibly be any more corny?

In all seriousness, I kind of thought I was a little old for this kind of thinking and behavior. But handling five kids, house, a job, and all that goes with them in this day and age makes me feel worn out and spent at the end of every single day, for the past elevenish months. I don't think I'm postpartum, incredibly hormonal, yes.

I know life isn't supposed to be easy, but I'm really craving some down time. Believe me. Moving to Indonesia? I spent a good month reconsidering everything we were doing when we had to figure out the entire move ourselves, ship a dog safely to the tip of that tropical island, find out that hubby's job was going to be very, very tough, fight like crazy to keep my job, buy $3000.00 worth of anti malaria profilactics,.. Maybe I'm just FINISHED with having the feeling that everything I do I must put on cement boots to do it. How wonderful it is to stretch out both my arms at once and not have to heft a baby or two up and down stairs to run errands. You know that feeling, right?

So, I was listening to AM radio since it's so incredibly entertaining this close to an election, and it must have been the Hugh Hewitt show where a caller said, "it's important to remember it's just a bump in the road, not a fork." or something like that. How appropriate for me. (Especially as we are on the way to the Church trunk or treat and I get mad at the car at the stop sign in front of us who isn't letting a group of boys cross the road. "Let the children go, you freak!" Was that me yelling? When in the world did I get so angry? Did Jesus' mother ever have days like that? Or for that matter, my adopted patron saint, Monica - whose son Constantine she prayed for for more than 30 years before it all came to fruition? At least I meant well, right?)

So anyway, we have some very cute pictures that we'll post soon - right now hubby is 'putting the baby to bed' which is daddy talk for 'I'm checking out early - lock up the house! 'night!"

A bit of britghtness in my day is my friend Jerry's facebook quote that I am stealing and making my own too - "I'm a princess, you're a princess,... so who's going to milk the goats?" - Old Egyptian Proverb. Amazing that women have felt this way all through the ages,...