Sometimes, I have days like this...

poor psycho kitty.  I have sympathy for you.

Please do NOT try this at home!

So, let's just say that you're getting your supper ready (it's a crock pot meal today).

Let's just say that the recipe calls for browning your beef in onions & garlic before adding it to the crock.

Let's just say that before you put your pan onto the burner, you took it out and placed it on the counter where someone had taken the little plastic bread tag off the bag and left it on the counter.

Let's just say that by some strange act of God, the bread tag managed to stick (unbeknown to me) to the bottom of the pan.

Let's just say that I then stick the pan on the stove top and turn on the burner.  I fry up my onions and add my meet and think "wow...that smells funky."

Let's just say that I shrugged that off and turned to wash the breakfast dishes while the meat was browning.

Let's just say that the fire alarm goes off.

Let's just say that the fire alarm going off automatically sends a message to my security company (it was APX, but is now called Vivint).

This is all that's left of the bread tag.

Let's just say that the kids freak out and the baby (who'd just been put down for a nap) wakes up screaming.

Let's just say that Vivint automatically sends out a text message to me and Mr. Delusional when emergencies like this happen.

Let's just say that Mr. Delusional is driving to some far out store to be a relief manager there today.

Let's just say that he's freaked out too.

Let's just say that Vivint's two-way voice comes on to check on the "health and safety of the residents" - and it takes some convincing to get them to call of the fire and other emergency vehicles that were automatically sent out.

Yeah...don't try this at home, peeps!

Spring Break

Spring Break is coming.  Just 4 more sleeps.  Grandma has promised to take my lovely, sweet, innocent children.  All three of them.  She offered to do it for the whole week.  We'll see how long that lasts.

Now, I'm going to pretend that grandma doesn't read this blog and just write what I need to say.  So, Grandma - Close your eyes, exit the page, or just fain innocence when you see my lovely offspring.

They are fighting.  My daughter is very much a girl and fights with venomous words spat out in anger, while my son is very much a boy and uses his fists.  I'm not happy with either - but also realize that they are siblings, and as such, they will fight.  Meanwhile, Adam screams and whines and cries to get his way.  All in all, I'm running on that last little thread that's holding me together with sanity...and they're bringing scissors.

So, in an act of desperation, I called my mom for help.  She says "Tell them that Grandma says that they can't come if they don't behave -- put a star on the calendar so that I know...."

Well - this is all well and good, but they don't seem to give a rat's behind.  But -- I'm so close to digging burial plots in the back yard that I'm willing to lie to my lovely mother in order to have a little bit of peace in my life.  I'm THAT stressed.  Right now, I feel like a failure as a mom.

I got an idea!!

That's what I hear a lot now these days.  Whether it's from Adam and his chosen brother, "Hey, I got an idea...let's build a tower with the lego!" (and there's always such genuine enthusiasm when they say it) - or my older ones who have some crazy ideas....it's a common phrase these days.

Last night, while cleaning up from supper, I hear my lovely daughter say, "Hey, I got an idea and it won't even hurt......well, it might hurt a little bit, but it's gonna be so cool!"

Needless to say, I dropped what I was doing and rushed into the living room where I see Iman trying to convince Isaac to let her hold him with his stomach on her head while she spun him around - she called it a Human Helicopter.

sticky eyeball toy

When that idea was put far, far out of everyone's mind (and hopefully, but not likely out of existence) we sat down to a nice bedtime snack of Oreos and milk.

Today, Isaac comes home from school and he's gotten a ball as a prize for some reason that I don't understand.  Anyhow - this wasn't a bouncy ball, it was a sticky ball -- remember those sticky hands things we had as kids?  Or maybe the sticky octopuses that you'd whip at the wall and they'd creep their way down?  Yeah, it's that kind of material -- only it looks like an eyeball.  It's a little creepy, but right up Isaac's alley.

So, he's been playing with it all day long: showing the daycare kids that he can "defy gravity" because it sticks to his hand...or trying to toss it from one hand to another....you get the idea.

After supper, he decides that he needs to wash his sticky eyeball ball...he does - and is thrilled that it was even stickier than before.  He decides to throw it up...high...and of course, it gets stuck to the ceiling.

I hear trills of giggles and laughter - and then a "You need to tell mom!"
"no, you tell her!"
"no, you threw it, YOU tell her!"


after a bit of a pause and probably more fighting back and forth that I couldn't hear, Isaac pipes up with: "Mo-om...My eye is stuck to the ceiling!"


Mr. Delusional came to the rescue - he lifted Adam up to the ceiling where he reached up and pulled ... and pulled ... and pulled -- that stupid sticky eyeball must have stretched a good 4 inches before it finally came off.

And that, my friends, is a glimpse into the craziness that I encounter in my daily life.

Happy Anniversary!

Today is my anniversary - Mr. Delusional and I have shared a whopping 13 years together.  We are both still alive, and neither one of us are in jail, so I consider this marriage to be a success.  I must let it be known that I'm not a fancy, frilly, girly-girl type of person (shocking, I know!)  I don't particularly care for flowers, I don't like having to dress up (jeans and sneakers are my preferred choices), and I'm not big on romance...I'd rather just cut to the chase than go through all the wooing and swooning.  I guess I'm more like a man than a woman... cest la vie.

So, with that little tid-bit about me - let me just take you down memory lane, dear readers - to the evening of my marriage proposal.

*insert groovy music as we time warp back 13 years and a few months*

Mr. Delusional and I had been spending long hours together talking about all things that really make my heart melt - politics, religion, culture (hey, I've got a scientific mind, not a Harlequin Romance one - these are the things I adore!) Anyhow, a lot of this time was spent talking over the 10 cent hot wings at Boston Pizza (the romance continues)...

...So, one day we were sitting there in BPs waiting for our wings to come, when Mr. Delusional reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring box.  The lady at the table next to us did one of those ultra fem *gasp* things with her hand fluttering around her throat and her lady companion turns and quietly says, "Aweeeeee!"

However, it didn't go down the way that they thought it would.   There was no getting on the knee, there was no taking of my hand and saying "Hethr, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" nope...I wouldn't have had that anyhow...instead this happened:

Mr. Delusional sorta tossed the ring box on the table and said, "So....you wanna do this thing or what?"

The ladies at the table next to us choked on their own disbelief as they saw me light up and say, "Hell yeah!"

And thus, began my life with my man.  Unorthodox and uncouth...but I wouldn't have it any other way!

Thank GOD, it's Friday!

I have had a rough week.  Sometime in the middle of Sunday night, someone came and switched out my kids.  They took my lovely, sweet, (rather) well behaved children and replaced them with fight-picking, screaming, whining demons.

Why?  Why did this happen?  I have absolutely no patience for it.

Adam's been rude and mean and pushing/swatting/shouting at everyone and everything if he doesn't get his way.
Isaac has been defiant (so out of character for him) - and Iman's been both clingy and screaming for her own space.

I'm tired.  I'm frustrated.  I have a bunch of homework to do, I have to finish preparing for my trip to Mexico and I have the homework that's associated with that as well.  I really want these last few weeks away from my kids to go nice and smooth....but it's not.

I'm just praying that we'll ground ourselves this weekend and start fresh on Monday.

Big Words and Little Mouths

Back around Christmas time, my chosen son's father was building a super secret gift for his wife (a shoe shelf!).  I'm assuming that chosen son was around while the piece was being built because he was suddenly taking the hammer from the Little Tykes tool station, banging the wall and sporadically shouting, "Dammit!!"

Mom and I worked hard at eradicating this word from his vocabulary.  However, children being the lovely little sponges of learning that they are, Adam quickly picked up on this fascinating expression and began using it himself.  He'd say things like "Stop saying 'dammit,' dammit!" or "Dammit, (child's name) said 'dammit' again!"

So, while I worked hard at ridding it from my chosen son's vocabulary, I worked just as diligently at wiping it from Adam's.  It seemed to work well, I don't recall them saying it much past mid-January.

It must be understood, however, that we are dealing with children...more specifically, we are dealing with my Adam - a boy who shines a new light on the antics of childhood.  We'd been dammit-free for a little over a month when today, Adam got upset that I wouldn't allow him to munch on chocolate covered almonds for supper.

That's right, I am an evil, horrible mother who doesn't let her kids eat chocolate for supper.

Obviously enraged by the deprivation of all things chocolate, Adam runs a loop through my kitchen and living room screaming in frustration.  He stops dead in front of me and with tears in his eyes shouts, "You Dammit!!"


It was so wrong of me to do, but I laughed.  I laughed until I cried.  This just made him even more angry, but I couldn't help it.  I laughed and laughed and laughed.

In the end, we talked about the whole issue and how that's not a word that nice people should say...then we ended up having popcorn for dinner.

What?  Is popcorn not a complete meal?

Please Advise my Fellow Daycare Providers

I am incredibly lucky to have absolutely wonderful daycare parents.  They are thoughtful, understanding and respectful.  What more could I ask for?  It has taken me 5 years to find families that fit well with me and my philosophies...but I have achieved just that.

Sadly, that's a rare case.  I have 2 friends right now who are also daycare/dayhome providers who aren't so lucky.  Friend #1, let's call her Tracy, has parents who are disrespectful.  They send their children to her care when they are ill -- I know that parents have a hard time taking the time off of work, but when you send your kid to your providers house sick, every other person in that house is exposed!  It's horrible!  The sickness spreads from child a to child b...then to the provider's child or the husband or the provider...the next thing you know even the cat is sick and all because the parent brought their kid in when they should have stayed at home.  

Tracy also has an issue with a parent who says her child is potty trained.  Tracy has yet to see the child use the toilet (or potty) in her home and is constantly cleaning up wet spots all over the place (even her brand new couch!!)  I don't even know what to say about this.  I've just gone through the potty training phase with Adam and my own chosen son -- sure they still have the occasional accident, but not to the point that I'm stuck with a home drenched in urine.

My other friend, who we'll call Elaine has parents who just walk all over her.  "Hey, would  you mind keeping my 18 month old baby awake all day today so he sleeps on the drive home?" -- do you think about what effect this will have on the other children in the home?  What about poor Elaine who works a 12 hour day with no break, and now you're asking her to keep a toddler awake all day long?  She also has issues with parents being late (like hours late), or "forgetting" things like shoes or jackets.  

I just don't understand.

Granted, I have never been the parent who's bringing their child to a dayhome, but still, I would certainly hope that I'd treat the person who is essentially raising my child during the day with a little respect.  Would these parents accept it if someone treated them this way?  I don't think so!  Do I just live in a fairy tale world where people "do unto others..."

What are your thoughts??  What advice would you give these providers (either as a parent to a provider, or as provider to provider).

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!

I'm sure that I've mentioned before my love for all things Seuss.  I love his stories, I love his art.  I love the messages that many of his stories send, and I love, love, love that his writing still inspires young readers today.  Dr. Seuss books are fun, engaging and (in my untrained and personal opinion) help children learn to read without any effort.

Since today is his birthday (and it's almost over, yikes!), the kids and I decided to have a Dr. Seuss Day.  We started off by reading some of his books: my personal favorite is The Cat in the Hat, but we didn't leave out One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish or Fox in Socks (another one of my favorites!).  We played a Cat in the Hat inspired game called Cat in the Hat I Can Do That!- which is so cool and so much fun.  We had the kids as young as 2 and as old as 33 playing and laughing and winning (we all won, of course!)

However, the day just wouldn't have been complete without our Green Eggs and Ham - this is one of the first books I ever remember reading.  One magical day my own daycare provider was flipping through those pages saying "I am Sam.  Sam I am" and it just clicked.  A whole new world had opened up for me and I was hooked on books.

Anyhow - I digress.  We read (a very worn and tattered version) of the Green Eggs and Ham and then got down to the dirty business of making and eating our own green eggs and ham.  Well...green eggs and turkey ham.

We started off with eggs...separated the yolks from the whites....you'll also need green food coloring (my picture is crooked, and I'm too darn lazy to fix it....live with it peeps!)

Then, I added a few (4-5) drops of food coloring to the whites and mixed it up. (oops, another upside-down pic!)

I put the green whites into the pan, and then topped them with the yolks.

While the eggs were cooking, my daughter helped to paint the (turkey) ham...just a little food coloring and water (a few teaspoons).

Once it was all together, we had us a "Green Eggs and Ham" meal!!

Now....to think on how to make something equally cool tomorrow.....