Randomness

What happens when you have too many princess dress up clothes and not enough body parts.

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How do I know Jared is my son? In the car the other day he told me he couldn't wait for another wedding party. I asked him why. "Because of all the free drinks!" he exclaimed. Granted, he was talking about ginger ale, but I can see a little bit of a resemblance to his mommy.
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Quote of the week: Zach when I told him what was for dinner asked me, "Oh, is that the thing that we hate?" Uhm, yes, son, it's written right here in my cookbook "Dinner item all the boys hate."

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I don't care what the big J wants to be when he grows up, he's going to become a baker. He's awesome in the kitchen. I just have to say "hey, there a sugar cookie recipe that I just happened to google on my computer,.. go check it out,.." and before you know it, I have fresh cookies! Which means he gets very disgruntled these days when hubby doesn't understand the kid knows his way around the kitchen and micromanages the grilled cheese flipping. Or perhaps hubby is afraid the big J takes after his mother in more ways than enjoying a few rounds on the house. When I asked Zach what he wanted for lunch one afternoon he told me "that burnt thing with cheese in the middle,.." to which Jared (who knows his way around the kitchen you remember) guessed he meant my grilled cheese sandwich. Jared will be the first college-bound child to send his mother care packages instead of the other way around.

Fifi agrees - good cookies!

I can honeslty say I have everything AND the kitchen sink,.. in my kitchen.

And we close with Fifi getting in touch with her inner Angus Young. If this is her bedtime routine, no wonder she hasn't really slept through the night yet,...

What Ash Wednesday Looks Like When You Are Three

Are They All Yours?

I hate to bump the ol' leprechaun testicles down, but this is a great article about large families.

I'm over the whole freaked out to go into public with my five kids. It took me a year, however. The looks in the department store, the man yelling at me in Disneyland, "#&$)*! Are they all yours?" The airport security personnel giving Hubby the high five. The stewardesses commenting on how lovely all our children are - AFTER the flight where they all behaved. Would it have been the same if the boys were fighting the whole time and the girls threw temper tantrums? I don't think so.

We were at McDonald's the other night for McTeacher night - a fund raiser for the boys' school. It was McChaos, lemme tell you. Watching your teacher sling hamburgers and bus tables is a popular activity with the K-6 grade set. As I sat at a table built for three with six people at it, baby on my lap, boys sharing a seat, the B on Hubby's lap, amid major noise and bodies in the restaurant, a teacher stopped and said to me, "You look so calm!" Honey, it was nothin' compared to the rigamoral of my daily existance, usually with one additional child per my child in or hanging (literally, we have a fun tree and a wooden fence that just must be scaled) at my house.

So, liked the article. Esp. for you crazies out there who like a swarm.

The Ol' Leprechaun Bait and Switch

So, you know why they make magazines for kids and then magazines for grown-up people? Because it's necessary, that's why. The trouble comes in when the magazine is for the grown up, but about the kid and the grown up, let's pretend, me (because I'm just that loony), decides to share funny/interesting/informative articles with said kid.

I thought it would be cute to show the 12 year old the Family Fun magazine with the Leprauchan traps. What a fun idea, I thought! To pretend to try and catch that pesky ol' Leprechaun as he trollops around the house leaving gold coins and making a mess for all the wee babes.

So, I showed it to the 12 year old. Who showed it to the 9 year old. And then they started thinking of all the things that would happen if they caught this leprechaun. Like, in the old world, traps are set to capture edible delicacies, so what would a leprechaun taste like? And would they have to eat every part of the leprechaun? Which, of course, led to the question of whether leprechauns have testicles, and did you know, Mom, that some tribes in Africa eat EVERY part of the animal they kill, including the testicles. Therefore, they would have to eat the leprechaun testicles.

What does all that above paragraph mean? It means that the boys have been watching WAAAAAAY too much of that psychopath SurvivorMan and his BFF Bear Grylls (Man V. Wild). Gads. Where's that channel changer?

The Family Picture - Uncensored

"Okay, everyone, Grandma wants a picture before we get on the plane back to SoCal. "



"Okay, I've wrastled three of the grandkids, quick! Grab the rest!"

"Aha! Got another one!"

"Here's another one,.. what?!? There's more?!?! When do they stop?"

Wait for it,..

Wait for it,...

Perfect!

National Geographic photographers have nothing on me. Photo of seven grandchildren in a busy airport, or clicking pics of lions from a blind in the savannah - they each have their challenges.

Don't you wonder what we did before digital photos?

Be My Bloody Valentine

And I mean that in the British sense, darnit!

Valentine's Day is fun when you are a kid, stressful when you are a single adult and a pretty much forgotten holiday when you are married with children.

What does Valentine's Day look like when you have five kids? First, you get a little me time by insisting on taking the car to the car wash ALONE. I made it a spa date by stopping by Starbucks and buying a trashy magazine when I picked up snacks for the 12 year old's basketball game.

Nothing like treating yourself to a clean car. In my case, a biohazard-free car. It hadn't been cleaned accept for periodic trash dumping since our voyage to Washington back at Christmastime. Scary, I know. I was silently screaming inside the whole time last Monday when our realtor came along in my car to look at a few houses. She hasn't called since then; I'm trying not to take it personally.

Call me spoiled, but I'm telling you, a thorough wash, vaccuum and wipedown of the interior of the Suburban is so worth that $20, and there is no way I could do it in less than an afternoon (what with all the juice, diaper changing, lunchbreaking, read-a-book-to-me-now, make sure the baby doesn't kill herselfing that would have entailed). I'll take the handcar wash over the manicure any day.

Then, three basketball games that took us through til the early evening. Hotdogs and fruit salad for kids. Bath and bedtime for the babies. The B was sick AGAIN, with a fever, so she was easy to put to bed. Nothing like a feverish child to make your life a little more relaxing for a few hours.

Then, grown up dinner. I rely on Trader Joe's to make sure I have a good time. There is nothing like yummy, already-made-for-you food for a working mom who is trying to have a relaxing dinner. I am a big proponent for the ol' heat and eat when appropriate. We bought a case of our fav champagne on sale a while back and broke out a bottle. I had to wipe the dish soap bubbles off my hands in order to do my toast. (can't be in a romantic mood if you KNOW there are stale hotdog dishes in the sink.) Told the boys the kitchen was a NO KID ZONE and threatened to 'make out' if they invaded. Checked the TV viewing through out the evening, making them turn off COPS and find something a little more appropriate for the 7 through 12 age set. And no, big 12 year old, your justification of 'I want to be a cop when I grow up, so I'm doing research, ...' doesn't fly with me.

Dispatched kids to bed and hubby and I settled in for a movie. We watched 'Blindness' which was disturbing, unrealistic, and a little thrilling. I was in a horror movie mood, what with the day before being Friday the 13th and all. No, we didn't go to see the movie of the same name, although, from the sounds of it, every other kid and teacher at the boys' school went. I know that isn't true, but a least a couple of teachers were talking to the 6th graders about going to the movie, which is an R-rating. I don't really find that appropriate. I kind of want my kids to strive for a little more in life. I don't know if these teachers are trying to be cool in the kids' eyes or what, but I find it disconcerting and a little pathetic. Besides all the 6th graders who going to the movie that night or right after school. Shame on you parents for thinking that is an acceptable way for your 12 year olds to spend two hours of their day; watching sex and blood and torture in life size proportions.

Okay, enough of my rant. I love a good yucky film, and I can't wait until my kids are old enough to watch them too, but that isn't happening for a while yet.

Kettle Chips

So, I was in the grocery store the other day (okay, I go to the grocery store approximately every day), and I was grabbing food items and tossing them in the ol' cart. I had to stop by the 'healthy' section because my 9 year old is INFATUATED with Puffins. He loves birds in general, but especially Puffins. Followed by hawks, all sorts of boobies (yes, he is the one I hear screaming when we go to the zoo, "Look at all the Boobies!" And I don't freak because I know he is talking about the blue-footed ones.)

Why? fortheluvofgawd I don't know. I will surmise it began with a nasty bout of Croup back in '07 on Christmas Eve. Hubby hustled the kid into the ER at 11pm. After yucky treatments like Xrays, steroid shots and breathing treatments, it is the hospital's tradition to give kids a stuffed animal. Zach came home with a stuffed chicken. I attribute this whole craziness and the fact that I can look forward to my kid living in some tent made out of whale belly in the middle of the Arctic with a long beard and no family, to that stuffed chicken. Thanks so much, St. Peter's Hospital.

Anyways, back here in SoCal, I am grabbing the Puffin cereal. Which everyone else in the family will not eat because it has the label ORGANIC on it. That seems to be one of the golden rules around here. Leaf of three, leave it be. Red and black stripes, don't touch it. Organic, don't cross the lips.

So, then I spot the chips. I love chips, but I'm trying very hard to be good and not eat them. I love baked chips, and as long as I haven't had a real chip for about a month, I can trick myself into thinking they actually taste good. The baked tater ones? Especially great with onion dip you make with fat free plain yoghurt and french onion soup mix. And good for you. The baked corn ones? Rock with some veggie refried beans and fat free plain yoghurt. These can be a tasty lunch, folks, as long as your kids aren't looking.

So, I see they have baked Kettle chips. Kettle chips are no longer allowed in my house. When preggo with the last kid, I bought the darned things at Costco. I think my last 20 pounds of weight gain I can write a thank you note directly to the makers of the Kettle chips. So, I'm psyched they have the baked chips. I toss them in the cart.

I get home and begin unpacking the groceries. I unpack the Kettle chips. They have transformed from 'baked' to 'organic'. Don't you just hate that? When you mean to grab one thing, but a different thing is what you bring home? I do this all the time, but I usually can just blame it on kid distraction. This time I was alone. I think what may happen is people grab one thing, see something else they like better, and replace them. This is the only way I can square away why I sometimes come home with one white cheddar macaroni and cheese and one alfredo macaroni and cheese. The kids eat two boxes at a time. I mix them together, hoping no one will notice the difference. Oh, they notice.

So, dang it, now I have a bag of high caloric chips that I can't just leave on the kid snack shelf because they have that 'ORGANIC' label. Might as well put a Mr. Yuck sticker on it, they would have a better chance of being eaten. And what's with organic chips? Don't you think anything that fell into that vat of boiling grease wouldn't just get instantaneously zapped and stripped of all its toxicity? Don't you think deep fat fryer trumps pesticides?