Twas the Days After Christmas

Twas the days after Christmas before the New Year.

Our home was still buzzing with holiday cheer.

There were papers and boxes and toys everywhere.

And the dogs all had candy canes stuck to their hair.

With computers and cell phone and games oh so loud.

I feel like I'm stuck in that black Friday crowd.

There is laughing and fighting and playing around.

While Steve and I pack for the poor house in town.

Each year I say less and each year I buy more.

I probably need to just purchase a store.

The kids they get older their wants more intense.

I throw up my hand to the high priced expense.

They want cell phones and beats and  new x-box games.

Some make-up and polish and clothes all brand names.

I'll have a DS and new games you know.

And a sled and some skates for the new fallen snow.

Don't forget the new shoes and the sparkly tights.

And the snuggy pajamas for cold winter nights.

So under the tree there were gifts a galore.

They covered the entire family room floor.

So now Christmas is over a New Year will be.

I'm saving for Christmas 2013!

Young Love

 Young love, oh how wonderful, especially when you're six.

 AnnaLisa as I have been told to call her ("P"she says is her home name, AnnaLisa  is her school name) when I answer the six or seven phone calls for her every night has a boyfriend, Trenton.

This all started about a week ago.

P as she was getting off the bus: Mom can I call my best friend from my class, I have the number right here as she pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her jacket pocket?

Me: Sure go ahead

P: Thanks Mom you're the best.

This is what I overheard:

P: "Hello may I speak to Trenton, this is AnnaLisa his best friend from school?

Oh how sweet I thought, her best friend is a little boy.

Well, that was first of many phone call that afternoon and every afternoon since.
She is not in the house five minutes when the phone starts ringing and it's Trenton.They giggle and laugh and talk important six year old things like their favorite color or the best toy, what DS games they have, then  the phone will get handed off to Sophia so she can add to the conversation. This goes on for 10 minutes before the goofy sets in and they get loud, so I have them say good-bye until the next time he calls 5 minutes later.

Last night during one of their many conversations she decided to color so she laid the phone on the table next to her and turned it on speaker and this is what I heard.

Trenton: AnnaLisa who are you going to marry?

Anna Lisa: Gee Trenton I don't know, that's a long time away.

Trenton: Well AnnaLisa you should just marry me.

AnnaLisa: Oh Trenton I'm gonna have to think about that, this is a hard decision.

Trenton: Not really I'm a good guy.

Needless to say I had to run to the bathroom because I was laughing so hard I nearly peed myself, that and I didn't want her to think I was eavesdropping!!

When I was that age boys still had cooties, heaven help me.

Playground Drama

The elementary school that all the kindergartens and first graders attend in our school district has a beautiful playscape that was built by donation in memory of a student who passed away. Along with the playscape is a memorial rock with the little girls picture and name on it. After the first week of school Sophia came home with a bit of information regarding the playground.

Sophia: Mom did you know a little girl who use to go to my school died?

Me: Yes

Sophia: Well (with her best know it all attitude), her mother raised a lot of money to build us the play stuff on our playground. 

Me: Yes I heard she did it in memory of her daughter, which was a very nice thing to do.

Sophia: Yeah but did you know (once again in that knowledgeable voice), that she buried her under the wood chips?

Me: No she didn't.

Sophia: Yes she did, there's a rock with her picture on it in the wood chips, just like the rock where your mom is buried.

Me: No Sophia the little girl is not buried in the playground, that is a memory rock to remind everyone how special she was and how much she loved to play on the playground.

Sophia (looking completely disgusted with me):  Um, everyone who goes there knows she's buried under the wood chips, YOU just need to ask my principal.

Me: Well OK then.

With that I dropped it, because all little kids know the principals word is the law.

Whatchamacallit

Yesterday as I was wandering through the kitchen I noticed Jack going out the backdoor with my I-Pod bobbing his head and listening to some rap crap. Later in the day as he was helping me cook dinner I was about to ask him if he brought it back into the house when I had a brain fart and this is what I said

Me: " Hey did you bring my whatchamacallit back in"?

Jackson  looking at me all wide eyed: " Mom I never touched your whatchamacallit, I promise I never did and I never would". 

Me: Yes you did I saw you go outside with it.

Jackson: No I never did, I promise I never took it outside.

After a few minutes of silence he looked at me and said, " Mom what's a whatchamacallit anyway"?

I had to laugh I thought everyone knew what a whatchamacallit was!  

Repeat

          Well it's that time of year again, the day the teachers thumb their noses at all the parents, the day all the bus drivers stand behind your child and give them a gentle yet forceful shove off the bus. All you parents know this dreadful day, "The First Day of Summer Vacation". This is the day I have to retrain myself after 9 & 1/2 glorious months of "mom time". I must now share my days with not only the dogs but 7 kids constantly bickering and fighting over absolutely nothing of any importance. For the next 83 days I must get up when I want to lounge, smile when I want to frown, laugh when I want to cry and stay home when I want to go. My kitchen turns from the heart of the home to a restaurant with endless dirty dishes and constant hunger pangs. My grocery bill escalates from 400 to 600 dollars a week and whiny kids complaining there is nothing to eat. The non-stop slamming of the doors and the trail of wet feet running in from the pool to use the bathroom. All the, "Why do I have to shower I was in the pool all day", arguments.  The "I'm bored there's nothing to do", syndrome and the, "He's looking at me", whine. Yes I knew it was coming and thought I had prepared myself for yet another summer, but alas I have not. So I will say my prayer right here and now:
    Dear Lord,

            Please give me the strength to make it through yet another hot and blistering summer with my beautiful children. Please Lord give me the patience of a saint, the wit of a comedian and the abilities of a referee to enable us to enjoy each other company for 83 long days of constant companionship. Please help my children to understand the joys of cleaning and the art of no back talk. And Lord thank-you for the whining and fighting and door slamming and the wet floors and all the hugs and kisses and I love you mom that I will get all 83 days of summer.   Amen

My 15 Minutes of Horror

          This is not going to be one of my normal "kids make me laugh" blog entries. It is my 15 minutes of horror entry. What everyone needs to know about my parenting style is, I know where my children are at all times. No one and I mean no one plays in the front yard without an adult. They are not allowed to just hop on their bikes and come home when ever they please. I am not a big stay over at other peoples homes kind of mom. If my children are invited to a party with a friend I don't know, I check the parents out on the sex offender registry and court records. I know I sound paranoid but they are my children and I love them. And you never know when a birth parent may find out where I live and try to visit or snatch one of my babies back. So I error on the side of the overly cautious mom and I don't apologize for it.

            The other day was a typical hot day, the kids were swimming and I was painting the hallway. After a while they all came in for some lemon-aid and I decided to take a break and have some too. After that the kids went outside in the backyard to play and I resumed painting. It was a extremely humid, so after about 10 minutes they were all back in the house for more lemon-aid. I went to the kitchen to make some more and noticed Jackson wasn't with them. "Where's Jack", I asked. They all started talking at once, he was just here, he's in the back yard, he went downstairs. Then I noticed the front screen door was not locked, (I have a lock placed high on the front door so the little kids can't get out into the front yard without supervision). Panicking I yelled for everyone to look for him. We all started screaming his name, looking in bedrooms, the basement, the garage, the shed, the car shelter, over the back fence, everywhere. After 5 minutes I called 911 explaining I couldn't find my 7 year old helpless little boy. The operator on the other end was very calm and I was pissed, why wasn't she as panicked as I was? She was asking me all these stupid questions like when was the last time I saw him, what color was his hair and what was he wearing. When I told her his gray swim trunks she insisted I look in the pool, the deep-end to be more specific. I told her I could see my deep-end drain from my patio door and he isn't in there. She kept insisting, so finally I said, "Look lady he swims like a fish, he's not in the damn pool". Then it was who's home, are there any other adults at home, where are they, how many children do you have? I'm frantically calling his name and trying to answer questions at the same time. After 10 minutes on the phone with her all the while I'm crying, I'm screaming and on the verge of passing out when Ian yells that he has found him. Looking out the patio door here comes Jackson walking hesitantly out of the car shelter. The 911 operator tells me how glad she is that we found him  and says an officer will be out to check the welfare of the child then hangs up. Check the welfare of the child? They needed  check me and see if I had a heart attack. But the real reason for checking his welfare is to see if I beat him senseless for scaring the hell out of me and the rest of the kids.

            Jackson ran very fast into the house and straight to the family room and closed the door. He wasn't coming out to talk to the police, he wasn't kidnapped and didn't understand all the fuss. When the officer arrived Jacob brought Jack to the front porch and Jack had a death grip on his big brother. The officer explained what all the fuss was about and how bad he had scared his mama and the kids. Then he asked where he was hiding. Jackson said, "I wasn't hiding I was looking for something". To which I replied, "Looking for something? You were in the car shelter in the car underneath the car cover, you weren't looking for anything you know you are not to be in Dads car". After that the officer left and we went into the house Jackson immediately hugged me and told me how sorry he was and when he hears anyone call his name he will come so I won't have to call the police on him ever again. We talked for a long time and I just thank God that Jackson was hiding and nothing more terrible had happened to him.
         This was the most scariest day of my life. I watch programs all the time and read about missing children and wonder how their parents survive not knowing what has happened. I have never felt so scared or helpless in my life and it only lasted 15 minutes.
         

Oops!

After getting my morning cleaning done I decided to plop my aged rump in my favorite chair and watch a show I had recorded. One Born Every Minute is a program on the Lifetime channel. It follows the families of pregnant women when they get to the hospital in labor or to be induced, until they deliver. About half way through I had to pause it to get the girls off the bus and fix their lunch. After getting them situated at the table and hearing about their day I went back to the living room to finish my show. Not paying to much attention to what was going on around me the girls wandered into the room. This was the conversation I heard.

AnnaLisa: What is that lady doing?

Sophia: (speaking as if she has first hand knowledge) She's pooping out a baby.

AnnaLisa: Well when I poop a baby never comes out.

Sophia: That's because you're not married.

AnnaLisa: Oh so when you get married then you can poop out a baby?

Sophia: Yes, ain't that right mom?

Me: Well, that's not exactly how it happens.

Just about that time the woman with her legs in stirrups delivered the baby and they placed it on her chest.

AnnaLisa: WOW, she must have a really big butt hole!!

Well at this point I felt it was necessary to tell them where babies come from.

Me: Girls, you get a phone call and go to the court house........

Busted

           Sitting in the living room doing what I do best, folding laundry, Sophia came running in yelling for me, here is how it went:
Sophia:  Mom come see what Jackson has, he says he's gonna keep them.
Me:       Keep what, (I thought he had probably found some more frogs)?
Sophia:  Just come see.

As I got closer to the patio door I could hear this squeaky, whiny kind of screaming and I knew immediately it wasn't frogs in the blue pool barrel.

Jackson: See what I caught, I'm gonna keep 'em and make them my pets.

Looking into the barrel I see two very frightened baby squirrels.

Me:         Jack how did you catch them?
Jackson:  With the pool net, they just came up to the steps so I scooped them up.
Me:         Oh you have to let them go, their mama is probably looking for them. Look how scared they are.

Reluctantly he agrees so I tip the barrel over and expect them to run away. One did but the other just kind of scurried to the center of the yard. I grabbed the pool net and gave the little thing a nudge on the butt. It finally ran into the storage shed, so I let it be.

About an hour later in runs Sophia again:

Sophia:  That baby squirrel is sleeping in the backyard. Jackson's friend is gonna shoot it with Nerf gun.

I ran outside and there it was just laying there, but it was breathing. I ran back into the house put on a pair of Steve's work gloves, grabbed a couple of small towels and went outside to pick it up. The poor little thing was very lethargic. So I did what every mother would do, I snuggled it to my chest and tried to rub some warmth into it's little body. Never having any experience with baby squirrels I went to my brother-in-laws house across the street and had him do some checking on what I should do.
Once I got back home he called and said to keep it warm and "DO NOT" give it milk. I needed to re-warm it's body and give it a few drops of warm water to re hydrate until I could get it some pedialite.
So here I was walking around with a baby squirrel trying to re-warm the poor thing. I got out my medicine syringe and gave it a few drops of water. This appeared to make it perk up a little wiggling and reaching it's cute little paw out from the towels. So for the next hour or so I walked around snuggling this baby squirrel to keep it warm when I realized it hadn't moved in quite a while. Taking a closer look it, it appeared to have   died right there in my hands. I asked Steve to take a look at it. He unwrapped it and felt around it's chest for a heat beat. We have never had any experience with wild animals and couldn't tell if it had died or maybe it was just a shallow breather. Steve told me to put it on  the DVR and let it lay there for a while to see if maybe it went into hibernation mode. So laying there on the cable box (where it's warm) we checked on it every few minutes and after about half an hour we realized it had passed.
What I perceived as perking up was probably it's dying breath. So I had walked around the house cradling a dead squirrel to my chest for an hour.
To make it easier on the kids we quietly grabbed a small plastic bag from the cupboard and placed the  deceased squirrel in it and Steve hurried outside with it. The we told the kids it didn't make it and left it at that.
About 20 minutes later Sophia came into the kitchen where Steve and I were with her hand on hip and a look of accusation on her face:

Sophia:  Soooo, where's the baby squirrel?
Me:       You know honey it died.
Steve:    Yep Sophia, it's now in squirrel heaven.

Gyrating her head and giving only a look Sophia could give she said,  "Oh no it's not  I saw you put it in a  garbage bag and take it out to the trash, that is NOT squirrel heaven".

So much for trying to be sneaky, we were so busted!!

$11.00 of pain

Today I felt very adventurous so I decided to get out of the house and do something, anything that didn't involve laundry, painting or sitting in front of the television. I had the urge to buy a new pair of shoes, replace my empty bottle of foundation with a full one, find a shirt that didn't hug my fat roll and look for a spring jacket that wasn't designed for a man. My kids often complain of my masculine, monochromatic wardrobe which consists of jeans, Steve or Jacob's cast off gray or black t-shirts topped with an over sized gray hoodie and an old very worn out once was white pair of sketcher shape-ups. My regular outings consist of grocery shopping, picking up sick kids at school or going to the home improvement store. So today I hit the mall which is usually reserved for Christmas shopping.
Once inside I was momentarily overcome with the holiday spirit and caught myself humming jingle bells. Bringing myself back to reality I headed for the make-up counter and then off to women's clothing. In no time at all I found a nice spring jacket and a loose fitting top. Feeling like I had really hit the jackpot I headed off to the shoe department and immediately found the cutest pair of wedge soled thongs. Wow this never happens I normally give up and leave the store depressed vowing to loose 20 pounds before I buy one more article of clothing. Feeling overly confident in my endeavor I decided to walk out into the mall and find the little store that strings your eyebrows. I have always wanted to try it but never had the time to wait or the nerve to enter. But today was different, I was feeling good. Being of a mature age I had a hard time trying to pluck my eyebrows with my magnifying glasses on and waxing was out of the question. I tried it once and it not only cleaned up the excess hair it took a large portion of my skin. So how bad could a little piece of string be?
Upon entering I was greeted by a smiling East Indian woman with a piece of string hanging from her mouth. I told her I wanted my eyebrows done, she smiled and said sit here, pointing to a black lounge chair. Keeping a portion of the string in her mouth and wrapping the ends around her fingers she instructed me to cover my eyelashes then proceeded to STRING me. Oh what the hell, I felt as if she were pulling my leg out through my forehead. My eyes started watering and all I could do was apologize for my outbursts. After completing the first brow her phone rang. Thank the lord, a reprieve. She was speaking to someone in her native language (which I do not speak) but I am sure she said, " Let me call you back after I get this cry baby ass out of my chair". So praying very hard I let her do the other and once again I apologized for my behavior. Finally after what seemed like forever she was done. Handing me a mirror she asked me how they looked. How she expected me to see through my tears is beyond me and she charged me $11.00. Eleven dollars to inflict the most heinous pain upon my body. I think the government needs to stop water boarding their prisoners and just string the suckers, I guarantee they will break them. As I was walking out of the store she said, "Have a nice day and please come again". Oh sure the next time I feel the need to punish myself I'll be back.
All in all I did accomplish somethings. Like my new black spring jacket, my new black top with a pair of summer thongs.

 Sorry kids but I kinda like my over sized monochromatic wardrobe, but the shoes are cute!

Head Lights

Being a lazy mom, my kids know how much I love to shop online. I would rather troll the internet than fight the crowds at any store. If I could grocery shop online I would be in heaven. So with that said here's my recent laugh for the day.

In our school system when a child in the classroom is sent home due to head lice the school sends a letter to each parent in that class letting us know along with a booklet on how to check your child and what to do if you discover your child also has lice. This happened the other day with Jackson. Here's how it went.

Jackson came off the bus quite excited and barely making it into the house to rip into his backpack to give me the information he had received.

Jackson:  Mom I have some important papers for you to read as he is handing me
                    the dreaded letter.

Me:            OK let me see

Jackson:  Someone in my class has "head lights" and they gave us a paper about it
.
Me:            Really, head light?

Jackson:  Yes (he's looking too excited)!. And here's a book about how we can get
                    them. Maybe you can get some of the online like the book orders.


Me:            Umm Jack it's not head lights it's head lice, little bugs in your hair that
                     bit you, kind of like fleas that dogs get.

Jackson:  Let me see that, "Head LLLiiiiccce", well I don't want that just forget it.

By this time I am trying very hard to suppress my laughter, but ordering head lice online is a little to aggressive even for me. So I think I'll just take my chances with the distribution at school and hope my kids never get so lucky.

Here's Your Sign

When Steve and I decided to become foster parents some 20 years ago we had to fill out forms on "what kind" of children we were willing to foster and/or adopt. Did we want babies, toddlers, youngster, teens? Were we willing to foster children with special needs and if so how special? Physical handicapped, emotionally handicapped, physically abused, developmentally delayed, failure to thrive, drug exposed and to what extent, mild, moderate or severe? But the one that really got me was the race. Did we want only our race or were we open to different races? To us children are children, peel away the skin and we are all the same color. Our blood is all red, our pee is yellow and so is the snot. So what's the big deal?

I soon found out not all people think the same way. Over the years I have been asked a barrage of questions from many ignorant people and I thought I would share a few with you.

Not long after Lyndsay and McKayla came to live with us I was met with my first......

Ignorant Ass1: Aren't you embarrassed when they call you mom in public?

Me: Why are you embarrassed when your kids call you mom in public?

Ignorant Ass2: Do you let them share a room with "your kids"?

Me: Heavens no they sleep in the garage.

Ignorant Ass3: Does their hair feel like a brillo pad?

Me: No more like a scotch brite.

Ignorant Ass4: Don't you think they would be better off with their own race?

Me: Well let's see, I'm of the human race and so are they, yep you're right.

Ignorant Ass5: Don't you think when they get older they will be a bad influence on "your kids"?

Me: By bad influence do you mean a college graduate?

Ignorant Ass6: So do you have to cook black food?

Me: Not if I get it off the stove in time, but sometimes my food is black.

We live in a predominantly Caucasian neighborhood, but most people know us and our children.

 Recently one of my children (in my opinion) was stereotyped due to his skin color and made to go home when the mother decided on a three kid rule for playing outside at their house. I have in the past been told by my boys that a lot of children (at one time) always play football or basketball or street hockey at this home. So to that racist mother I say: Here's Your Sign.....(borrowed from a very knowledgeable man, Jeff Foxworthy)

                               I Am An Ignorant Ass

A Slight Mix-Up

Having 15 kids means shortcuts in everything from assembly line tooth brushing to doubling up in the tub. Yes that's right, when the situation is appropriate they bathe together. But sometimes even at the ages of 3 and 4 bathing together can bring up some rather unique observations of the human body. One of those situations happened to come to light when Jackson and Sophia were taking a bath a few years ago.After playing for a while I started to wash them up. As I was washing Jackson's "wink" area Sophia said,"Don't forget to wash my wink". I told her girls do not have winks they have vagina's and she seemed happy with that. After drying off and putting on her pajamas she ran to her dad and said, "Dad, did you know I have a "johnny" and Jackson has a wink"? Steve looking rather stunned said ," Is that so"? "Yep, replied Sophia, "Mom said so". Then she abruptly walked away to spread the joy of her new found anatomy to the rest of the kids. Eventually she did realize the "real name" of her johnny but continued using the latter.

Three years later:

 Last night as Sophia was getting out of the shower this was the conversation:

Sophia: So when do I start getting them?

Me: Getting them, what are you getting? My mind was racing I thought she was talking about her period and didn't quite know how I was going to explain that to a six year old.

Sophia: Chest pains.

Me: Chest pains, why do you think you're going to get chest pains?

Sophia: Well today I was watching iCarly and Carly told Spencer that the neighbor was having chest pains but didn't have a heart attack and Spencer said they call that vagina pains. So I guess I'm gonna get chest pains from my vagina.

Me (trying very hard not to laugh) had to explain the difference between angina and vagina. But for now I think we'll  just stick to calling it a johnny!

Sex Education 101

So my two fifth graders, Joey and Ian had a sex education class at school the other day. Exactly what was taught or how it was taught is still a mystery to me. This is how the conversation went as soon as they burst through the door after school:
Mom, mom where are you? Right here what's happened? I always think the worst went they fly through the door yelling for me. "We had a class on sex today", they said, both boys had smirky grins on their faces. Oh really did you learn anything? "Yes, yes we did", said Joey looking particularly knowledgeable, "I know what the inside of a penis looks likes and it's gross and they said we should call it a penis and not something like, MY JUNK, because if you go to the doctor and say hey I'm having some issues with MY JUNK they won't know what you're talking about". Said, I might add all in one breath. "Interesting ", was all I could say. "And', he said, '"Now I know why my balls stick up". Really was all I could say without bursting into laughter. So your balls stick up do they, that sounds like a medical issue to me Joey! "No wait, not my balls my penis". Oh that good to hear because I was going to take you to the doctor. "It stick up because we get excited". OK was my reply, that's good to know. After that the sex talk dwindles down and homework began.
The next day after my regular morning ritual of waking the kids up room by room Joey come to his bedroom door looking quite perplexed and in a very monotone voice said, "I can't believe I'm excited about school today". Well that's a good thing I said. "Well my head says I'm not but my penis says I am", he said while shaking his head in disbelief. I wonder if that's the kind of excitement the sex ed teacher meant?