Bangs Free Since '93

When we returned from grandma and grandpa's house on Easter Sunday, a carton of eggs was on our front porch. They were a gift from our neighbors and their chickens.

Being Easters and all, Kate assumed (and I kind of did, too), that they were hard boiled eggs. Lucky for her, as she attempted to peel the egg, it was over a bowl. Then, we saw the writing on the carton from the 10 year old. "Do not break! They are not cooked!"

I've had a feeling growing inside of me since I began having children. I sometimes feel like the kids suck me dry. Now, I have proof.

Back when we were all sick in March, I found myself on antibiotics for a sinus infection. I don't know about you, but when I get sinus infections (which is probably twice in my life), I feel like I'm going to die. The old man doctor (he's seriously so old. His stethescope has little hearing aids for him) put me on septra, an antibiotic I've never had. Well, I will never ever have that one again.

The first day I took it, I felt a little hyped up, which was nice, considering I'd been sick and dragging. I didn't sleep well that night. The next day, I felt hyped up again, but this time it was an uncomfortable type of alertness, because I was tired from little sleep. I had another sleepless night. The next day, same thing, but now I felt like I was in a mania and felt kinda psycho. That night, I took my last ambien, but it didn't work!! That is crazy, because ambien knocks me out and makes me do crazy things (I love that stuff). I literally layed awake all night.

Ok, now I was feeling crazy. I started looking up info on google about my symtoms and the antibiotics I was on. After getting over the initial worries of cancer that internet symptom checkers commonly scare us with, I wondered if it was my antibiotics. Severe insomnia has been reported in some cases. Well, I was one of those cases.

I switched to another antibiotic, and sleep returned. That was a crazy trip.

Ok, do the manicure pictures often found on Pinterest creep anyone out? Or is it just me? I hate the pictures of the ladies showing off their nails with their claw hands, holding a bottle of nail polish. I'm already a little jaded in my view of manicures. I can't even begin to imagine worrying about my nails as I go about my day to day life. Talk about stress! It's like the stress I used to have about my bangs when the wind would blow. It was almost too much for me! I'm happy about my "bangs free since '93" status.

Dingbats Unite!

I was putting neosporin on a cat scratch Kate has on her arm.

Kate: Mom, what's that sauce you're putting on my scratch?

Dingbat.

I have another dingbat. Her name is Abigail. For the last couple of months, she's taken to wearing only her underwear to bed, and throughout most of the morning. And sometimes into the afternoon.


Here she is, from my vantage point, waving goodbye to her Dad.

She also has a freaky ritual that she insists on doing most times there is anyone coming or going in a car. Here it is: First, she screams and chases you down if she hears the keys jingle or the garage door open. As she's in pursuit, she screams, "I need a hug and a kiss!!" That's kind of cute. But then, she insists upon smelling the inside of the car or van. That's getting annoying.

Even when strangers come to our house. Just before they leave, she asks them, "Can I smell your car?"

And an added bonus - if she thinks a lady is pretty, she asks them, "Can I smell you?" If she likes the smell, she states, "You smell like my Granny." That could be taken as an insult if you don't know Abby's Granny. But, if you know her, you know she always smells good.

Here she is from Neal's vantage point as he backs out of the driveway on the way to work. I should also note, this is the vantage point of all of the neighbors, too.

Love that little hand wave.

Another one of Abby's quirks lately is her hatred of my ponytail. She sees me get up in the morning, sans the ponytail, and yells at me, "Don't put your ponytail in today."

Of course, I put it in, and she yells, "MOM! PUT YOUR PONYTAIL OUT! I DON'T LIKE IT!" I guess it's not princessy enough.

I asked her, "Abby, what do you think is pretty on me?"

Her response? "Lipstick and pretty shoes!"

Sorry to disappoint you every single day, my love.

Maybe it's time for a new hair do.

Remember those Korean cd's I found loaded into the cd deck in our van? I've kept them. It turns out they make a wonderful punishment when my kids fight over the radio stations. If they keep on keeping on with the fighting, I just turn on the Korean easy listening and turn it up really loud.

They hate it. Bad. And I'm pretty sure they hate me as the scene unfolds.

I love this part of parenting.

This part too. It's about this age that they start to develop their little sleeping quirks. It's so fun to see how each one of them decides they like to sleep. Sarah did, and still does, sleep with a mess of hair in her face/mouth and wakes up with a wicked rats nest every single morning.

Kate? She hugs her blankie into her chest and puts the soft cloth against her lips.

Abby? Her special thumb sucking position. It puts her right to sleep.

And Mr. Doc? He's started gripping the car seat in a manly manner. He also likes to pull his soft blanket up over his face.

Black-Hole March

Wow. What a weird month of March. It's been over a month since I've blogged. In this history of my blogging, I've never gone that long. Shame on me.

For the most part, our family spent the entire month of March being sick in one form or another. With the exception of Sarah. She was bummed. She said she felt gypped because she didn't get to miss school. Ok, is it just me, or does it seem like the kids have had at least one day off per week for the entire 2012 so far? Granted, I am just coming off of a spring break overload of my kids, so I am a little overdone in the Mom department. Add to that being sick, and Neal being sick, and having my usual March funk, and you have a blogless month.

Poor Neal got the brunt of sickness. First it was the upper respiratory infection that played rounds in the house. While the rest of us were coughing, tired, and chilled, Neal was doing all of that, plus a 103 degree fever. Then, a couple of weeks later, the barfs went through the house. Neal was so sick, he spent 12 hours straight on the toilet with the barf pan on his lap. He lost 10 pounds in 2 days. Beat that, Jenny Craig!

Neal and I are not quiet barfers. In fact, we were just commenting the other day how when people throw up in movies, it's so fake. They just bend over, make a squeak, and some liquid dumps out of their mouths. In real life, it's a spastic, loud, loss-of-control moment that finds one truly retching and writhing in front of the toilet, then laying face down on the cool of the "I don't care how dirty the linoleum is" bathroom floor. That's reality.

The Sunday Neal was doing just that (see above), the kids and I were in the living room, listening to the man of the house suffer. He was in the downstairs bathroom, and it was loud. Sarah and I looked over at Kate, and she was doing a hilarious imitation of the man barf. Her mouth was wide open, and she was writhing as she lip-sinced his groans of fury. We were trying so hard to laugh quietly, because we didn't want to make Neal feel bad. Who ever said there isn't humor in the thick of the the battle?


The month of March also gave us a few snow days. Crazy weather. Ten inches of rain for the month of march. That's a lot. I love the little mud/snow man with his little T-rex arms. My kids don't really know how to make a snow man. I stood at the door in my bra-less, pajama-ed state and barked orders at Kate about how she needed to make the bottom bigger, and flatten the top before she put another ball on, and pack snow in the cracks. Sarah said, "Mom. You sound just like the Mom on Modern Family." It's not the first time she has said that.

This little ball of amazingness loves his little walker. He scoots all over, yet he doesn't really know how it's happening. Mr. Twinkle Toes is growing up.

Sarah and Kate do the dishes together every night. We've started to get Abigail in on the action. While she was helping Kate put the tongs away, she said, "Kate, what are these?" Without skipping a beat, Kate grabbed them, turned to me and used them to grab a chunk of my bottom, and said, "Abby, they're chompers for our butts. See?" That girl, man she is hilarious.

Kate talks loud. We all talk loud. Sometimes I have to yell extra loud to get Kate's attention. You know all that talk about patiently nurturing, and quietly and lovingly using a gentle answer that "turneth away all wrath?" Yeah, me neither. I usually just yell. Especially at Kate

Well, Kate had a well-child check a couple of weeks ago, and they did the little vision and hearing screening. Luckily, she takes after Dad and has great vision, but when they did the hearing test, it was a different story. The nurse put the thing in Kate's ear and said, "Tell me every time you hear something." Kate sat there, and sat there, and didn't say anything. The nurse checked the machine to make sure it was working. Then, she tried the right ear and Kate heard a few of the sounds that time, but not all of them. Holy crap.

She has an appointment with an audiologist on the 19th. I'm starting to feel really guilty for all the times I've yelled at her and given her extra chores because she was "ignoring me." I asked her if she has a hard time hearing things. She said, "Yes. I never put the phone to my left ear because I can't hear very well, so I always make sure I put it on my right ear."

*knife stabbing my heart

Now, for some good news! The powers that be have built a McDonald's at the Keizer Station! I'm pleased about that. Now all they need at Keizer Station is a Winco, and my life would be complete. But, they're going to build a Wal-mart instead. Great, just what the world needs - another Wal-mart. But, I'm happy about the McDonalds.

While eating lunch there with the kids, Abby said, "Look Mom! I'm Scooby Doo. He loves to eat hagums." She proceeded to shove half the hamburger in her mouth, then promptly started choking like Mama Cass on a ham sandwich. Remember when she was on Scooby Doo (Mama Cass)? I do. I also remember when the Harlem Globetrotters were on the show.

After saving Abby like a good mother should, I thought, "I think there's been a little bit too much Scooby Doo at our house." What else is a mother to do when the home is in "survival mode" because the parents keep getting sick? I may or may not have given thanks in my prayers for the TV and cheap DVD's from Target. Oh, and for Netflix and the "Out of the Wild" series and "Ghost Hunters International."

Way too much TV going on here. But, since I don't crochet (I always say "crotch-it" in my head when I see that silly word), what else can I do when I feel like crap?

I'm sure I can learn to crotch-it from Pinterest. I learned how to shine my headlights (of the vehicle variety), and have made a few hits (and misses) for dinners. Pinterest is like facebook, only much less annoying and much more productive and positive. Except for those who peddle their eating disorders and body image issues while extolling the virtues of working out like a psycho. Other than that, I'm liking the Pinterest.