Tuesday, May 22, 2007

What DO eels drink?

Babaloo, being 6 1/2 years old (as he so emphatically puts it) is into science big time.
Because of this, it was no surprise to me at breakfast when he asked, "Mom, what do eels drink?" I pondered this for a minute, wondering if eels drink at all, then told him, "Probably seawater." Then we all were silent for a couple of seconds, during which I'm feeling pleased that I have such a deep thinker for a son. He then pipes up, "They slip soda!"

Did I forget to mention he's also in the "making-up-jokes phase"?

Monday, May 21, 2007

And This Sums Today Up This Far.

Typical Monday.

We bought a new (used) minivan last week, and discovered that the rear air doesn't work, so we had to drop it off at the dealer to get it looked at. So, we moved all the carseats over to the old minivan (the one with front windows that don't roll down and no air conditioning and an oil leak). Last night we dropped the new van off, so Husband could drop the keys off this morning on his way to work without the extra hassle. Except that we had to bring the kids so I could drop him off at work to have a way to get the keys since the shop closes at 5:00, when Husband gets off.....etc.

Since this is a public blog, I'll refer to my kids by nicknames. We have Babaloo, who is turning 7 (my BABY!) this summer. We have Bugaboo, who is 5 and the one who's speech therapist thinks he has an auditory processing disorder, we think she's right. However, it's been suggested to us that we wait until he's 6 before getting him diagnosed with that. For some reason they have to wait longer. He's been diagnosed with a receptive/expressive communication delay, which basically means he has a hard time expressing himself verbally and understanding what you say. Routines are very important to him. Otherwise, our day is shot to you-know-where. Like it was today. Oh, and there's Princess Peanut, who is 21 months old. She's the cutest little thing you'll ever see, and ---what? What do you mean I'm biased because I'm her mother?

Anyway, I sacrificed going to the gym this morning to get everyone out the door. Well, to tell them to get their shoes on in their pajamas to take daddy to work. So we did. Dropped off the key, dropped Daddy off, then it started. Bugaboo went nuts and started crying because we left Daddy at work. My lower back/hip area has been killing me since I got up. (Old birthing injury...well, 21 month old birthing injury.) I can hardly drag Peanut out of her carseat when we get home, and of course she's not happy to go inside. I tell everyone to get dressed so we can have breakfast. Normally, we wake up, make beds, say prayers, get dressed, eat breakfast and have circle time. Now that our flowing (haha, I wish) routine has been interrupted, Bugaboo is in a not-so-good mood. After breakfast, he starts fighting with his sister. At that point, the phone rings. It's my friend who had a baby 5 weeks ago, and she's wondering how I am. There goes my guilt! I had been thinking of her over the weekend, and didn't call. Well, something happened just before she called, and now I'm putting Bugaboo in his room for time-out while I'm on the phone.

Next think I know, I hear a huge CRASH!!!!! I told my friend I had to go, and I find that Bugaboo has thrown the nice, wooden castle they got for Christmas. You know, the BIG present that we got for them because I've gotten rid of most of the toys, and I want to do things a little more Waldorfy-like. They love that castle. Well, it was on the floor with part of it broken off. Floor pieces broken off, the side ripped off. I lost it. I don't agree with spanking most of the time, but he got six GOOD swats, and I started crying my eyes out and yelling. Not good. Especially since my visiting teachers(In my church, we teach each other lessons once a month in our homes) were coming in half an hour. I talked to him, and laid down the law, and to try to get some semblance of harmony back in our house said, "Now, let's have circle time before the visiting teachers get here". We started about 20 minutes until 10:00, when they were expected to arrive. We started, having a great time for 5 minutes, until they pulled up at 9:45. The old me would have stopped circle time, but not the new me. We NEEDED this circle time today!!!! So, I invited them in, and let them know we were finishing up circle time and they were welcome to join us! They did a little.

Since Peanut was woken up earlier than she would have liked, she was crabby. When she's tired, she tries to hit everyone and everything. When the lesson was over and the VTs left, I turned on Dora the Explorer, got the kids an early lunch, and sat down to chat with my mom a bit on the computer. I forgot that Peanut's diaper was poopy. Well, after chatting with mom for a while, Peanut walked over to me just as Mom was asking me about that poopy diaper. She stood there for a bit, with her hands outstretched over my lap, just waiting. I noticed that the smell of poop was unusually strong. Then I looked down. Yep. ALL over her hands!!!! I don't know why the heck that child insists on putting her hands down poopy diapers. I think this is the third time in a month!

Oh, yeah. I forgot that Bugaboo let the dog out from the basement when the VTs were here, and one of them is allergic. All this happened before 1:00. It's 2:10 right now, and I'm ready for bed!!! Except that I have to figure out what to make for dinner, pick up Husband at 5:00--oh yeah, get the car keys from the dealer before that, and oh yeah....it's Family Home Evening tonight and I don't have a lesson!!!!!!!!!! At least the boys are being quiet now....or maybe that's not a good thing.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Hmmmm.....some ramblings to start with...ba ba ba ba buns.

Now that I've picked a pistachio to represent me, I'm wondering why. It was, after all, a whim. Now I'm finding deeper meanings within the realm of the pistachio. Such as I can take those nuts or leave them, most of the time. They're not that important to me, especially if they're sitting next to...oh...chocolate cake? My husband on the other hand, LOVES those little green things. I guess I'm lucky, huh? Well, ok. I'm not dry, brittle and shriveled up inside, but I do have a shell up between my feelings and the world. I would rather pour out my feelings to my poor, unsuspecting husband. I think he'll like this blog. Ok, enough of the nutziness.

Why do people feel compelled to blog? I've tried before, but I didn't stick with it. Perhaps it's because I feel the need for recognition and approval from others, and didn't get what I was hoping for. Is that something I need to get over? Or is it a need everyone has? I don't know. Maybe I'm afraid that others won't think I'm as clever as I hope myself to be. Yeah, that's it. Well now, I just want to have a record of my life, and this doesn't give me writer's cramp like a traditional journal does.

Now, I love being a mom. I have 6 and 5 year old boys, and a 21 month old daughter. I've noticed that many bloggettes are moms! It is nice to connect with other adult human beings, other than once a week at church. I enjoy my children, but you know you've been around them a bit too long when you have a chance to go to Kohls with your sister, and you find yourself chanting your 5 year old son's ridiculous words. He came up with this, I have no clue why. He says, "Moo, moo, moo, moo, HINEY.....ba ba ba ba buns" while shaking his rump. No, I did NOT shake my rump in public, but I'm scared I might one day, unknowingly! I find myself uttering ridiculousness at inappropriate times. Am I reverting back to childhood? Although, being a girl, I wasn't that disgusting. Wait....maybe I didn't say that chant. I may have said...well, a little background first.

When my brother was little, my mom called his you-know-what a little "doodle". Brother couldn't say that, he changed it to "goodle", pronounced with an "ooo" like "moose" My sons know the proper names for body parts, but to save me the embarrassment of them yelling "PENIS" in public, we called it a goodle too. Except second son couldn't say that...he says "google". I bet the founders of Google would love to know what the company name REALLY means...but I digress. Since they both would walk around with hands in their pants, we would tell them "no google", especially when I caught the younger one whipping it out over his diaper in Walmart. So my 5 year old, when he was 3 or 4 (he has suspected auditory processing disorder and didn't talk until 3) started calling it a "no google". Then he started saying "no google beans". Now what could THAT mean??? Yup, you guessed it. Wherever there's a "no google" there must be "no google beans". And I think THAT was what I was uttering in my tiredness, tramping around the clearance sections at Kohls.

So, if you're still here, thank you. I put my words out into cyberspace to find some grown-up, listening ears. Unless I start chanting, "Moo, moo, moo, moo HINEY!!!" or was that "No google BEANS!".