Leaning Tower of Dishes

It doesn't take long in our house to accumulate a lot of dirty dishes. Lately we sometimes run the dishwasher twice a day! The oldest 3 kids are awesome and empty it for us for chore points (a quarter a point). I'm wondering if paper plates might be cheaper than paying them ... then we can just throw them in our compost heap! One day when we were behind (Aron was probably out of town), Michael made this amazing Leaning Tower of Dishes.

I'm Going to the SuperBowl (Party)!!!!

It is a brave person who invites our family of seven into their home. My own parents will barely even do it anymore!!!! We are loud, messy, crazy and frightening. I yell when I don't even realize I am yelling. I figure it out when I see people staring at me, then I sheepishly tell them I am sorry, and I will now use my INSIDE VOICE.
Anyway ...

We got invited to a SuperBowl Party at someone's house. This is not just ANYONE's house, this is the house of a new pal, who is the pal of my super-cool accountant neighbor chick. This new pal pretty much runs the school across the street from me. Okay, not REALLY. But you know the one: the one who coordinates all the volunteers, runs the parties and the carnival and God knows what else. The one with the husband and the two adorable kids and the job. That one who can do everything (kinda like accountant neighbor chick!)?! Oh, and they do it looking good, too. I can barely get out of my sweats and attempt to suck in my muffin top these days while they are at Boot Camp.

So I have to step it up here. I've already instructed the kids NOT to pick their noses in front of anyone and CERTAINLY don't wipe it anywhere but on a Kleenex. I'm giving my kids a bad wrap here ... they are mostly wonderful. Well, the oldest three. Eva and Sam are only 4 and 2 so they need a little nudge in learning the ways of high society (cover your mouth when you couch, don't take a bite of food then put it back on the tray, boogers go in tissues, that sort of thing).

Now, what to bring? I picked up a football-shaped tray of snack mix from Aldi. Hmmm. No, not good enough. Oh, I know! I'll make this:

If you want to be cool and copy me, here's the recipe. Even a kitchentard like me can do it! (by the way, my mom and I decided we can call things "tard" because her sister is mentally retarded. so our reasoning is her sister is MENTALLY retarded and can't help that and I am like CLEANING and KITCHEN retarded and can't help it. get it? oh, and other people are SOCIALLY retarded and can't help that so I'm trying to be more accepting as I hope they will be accepting of me.)

Errands With 5 Kids ... It Can Be Done

I have to get this post typed because the notes for it are written on a nasty cardboard coffee cup and I need to throw it away.

Allow me to set the scene for you:

It's a weekday. Aron is out of town. I have errands that have been piling up, things I don't HAVE TO DO or people might die but things I would LIKE TO GET DONE for peace of mind.

First we had to the mall. Yes, the big, nice, snooty mall. I have to go to Lenscrafters to order new sunglasses since mine got damaged when I fell on my face back in August at the pool. (yes, I know many people who DON'T like me read this blog, so that one was for you ... laugh away!) So we park by Nordstrom and go in the covert way. We pass the luxury cars, which of course the kids want to touch. It's like 2 in the afternoon and Lenscrafters is CRAWLING with people. HUH?

So I take a deep breath and talk myself into waiting while trying to contain 5 energetic kids. It's not the 1950s, people, and you can't discipline your kids in public without going to jail. Remember how society has cut off our parenting nuts next time you see kids running wild somewhere with a parent only whining, "Stop, Jimmy, stoooooooop it."

It's finally our turn and ...

Tip #1: Be extra nice to the clerks. If you kill them with kindness and humor about the situation, you cut off their snarky looks and comments! To diffuse snarky young men, I simply brightly say, "Sex makes babies, it is true! I finally figured it out."

So we get out of there unscathed. But somebody has to pee, so we tromp through Nordstrom and up two flights of escalator to the family bathroom. (on the way we see someone we know, a super-nice, super-cool woman and I pray my kids don't do something totally hillbilly in front of her!) We emerge about 3 days later because everyone had to pee or poop.

By this time I need a freaking treat. I hit the shi-shi Nordstrom coffeeshop and pay one million dollars for a coffee and 5 cookies. While I wait, I chase down two kids while the other three are in Bath and Body Works hanging around.

We walk out the doors into freedom and the kids want to climb these parking lot stairs. I say okay, and being as how I'm 40 now and out of shape, I'm the last one up. In the meantime, a parking lot cop has confronted my oldest son about where his parents are, etc. I vow to get in shape so I can beat my kids to the top next time.

I'm all geared up to head to CVS next. After all, I NEED that deal on L'Oreal Youth Code. I can feel my neck wrinkling by the day and I have to have it before I am wearing scarves all year long. The girls want to look at the makeup, so I leave them with Joel one aisle over to do that. Michael and Sam come with me to find the Fountain of Youth. A nice young man has to help me find it, because he's stocking it. I ask him if it works. He just laughs at me. I tell him sex makes babies.

By this time the girls are somewhere else looking at videos and I decide I will have to put them all on leashes or get them the microchip.

Did I mention earlier in the day we had grocery shopping to do? Did I mention this is the life I always dreamed of and that I would not trade it for anything in the world? My worst, hardest day as a mom is better than my best day when I was working at a "real" J.O.B. I'm not a good worker-bee (I get bored too easily).

Snooping: Yes or No?

I have a couple of snooping stories from my past, then I'd love for you to weigh in.

Snooping Story #1: I come home one night and my roommate has been digging through my file cabinet and reading my personal journal pages and email printouts. She is ballistic. I'm trying to figure out what I could have written that would have her panties in such a bunch. Then she tells me she's freaking out because I wrote mean things about this mutual frenemy of ours, this chick who in the past had gone after both of our men. She says if I don't tell this chick what I wrote, SHE WILL. I was a bit of a doormat back then and was a tad frightened of this roomie gone wild, so I think I ended up apologizing to everyone involved but didn't feel right about it. I just wanted to keep the peace. Another friend of ours told me I was crazy for doing that and that I should have told Roomie to bug off for snooping. I got a locked file cabinet after that and continued to write what I wanted.

Snooping Story #2: It's the day I got fired from my PR secretary job with no reason given and no notice. In my downtime I had kept a journal on the computer (probably illegal or company property, right?), and in my scramble to get out of there, I had printed off some pages to take with me. Guess what? I left them in the printer! They were about my fellow secretary and how I knew she could get a better job instead of being a lackey for our boss. (she's now the president of a company, so I was RIGHT!). Apparently she read them and put them in a box of stuff to get back to me and hasn't spoken to me since and won't tell me why she's upset, so I can only imagine it's because of what I wrote.

We have probably all snooped, right? It's just that most of us have the sense to act like WE DID NOT! If asked, I will fess up. But otherwise, I don't do anything with the new knowledge BECAUSE I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO KNOW IT!

I know we should be positive and happy and light and try not to trash others. But sometimes when life is sucking, I turn to my journal to reveal my deepest annoyances and don't use my big-girl words. Sometimes I've gone back after a year and deleted petty stuff. The bigger stuff I keep in there to remind me not to let it happen again. I have journals going back 30 years ... and I'm keeping them. My kids can burn them or read them or whatever. They will see me writing petty crap and sex crap and all kinds of things they don't want to know. Tell me why I keep this stuff again? Oh, yeah, because it's who I AM, it shows the evolution of ME. Sue me, I'm a writer, always have been. I own it.

Got any snooping stories or opinions? And what's the difference between putting words out into the Universe about others that are crappy versus writing them down?

Beware of the Sperm!

I tore this out of a parenting magazine last year. It was really appropriate for what we're going through right now. Every month my poor wittle egg is scared of sperm coming at it. Some come with flowers, some with boxes of chocolate, some with little briefcases, some without a job, some with hats on even! Yes, I'm a good wittle Catholic girl who uses NFP (natural family planning), and it has worked for almost 14 years to either avoid or achieve pregnancy when we want. I'm not saying it doesn't STINK sometimes when we are in avoidance mode, but we get by somehow. Having a strong marriage helps out. Oh, and all those other kids to distract us ... and REMIND us of why we aren't quite ready for another yet! They are amazing, and as they grow they need us even MORE ... I want to make sure I'm emotionally and otherwise available to them. Be sure that when we get pregnant again (if!), it's because we are good and ready! Until then, my egg with the bow on it's head will be all freaked out.