Toothsome Tuesday

What a day!

I GOT THE JOB!
HAPPY DANCE!


Adorable Hubby got a job, and we got a free meal at a real restaurant tonight to learn about the product! Yay!

We have verbal confirmation that we are foster licensed! Now we' ll have 8 sons, time to rearrange bedrooms, what fun!

We had yet another baseball game, more awesome t-shirts on Mr. Pithy Pants. You'll have to wait until Friday!

And.

#5 celebrated his eighth birthday.

He took a few self photos of his freshly showered self.

The first thing you notice about this sweet boy are his gorgeous eyes! He was my most wide awake wide eyed baby at birth. After a failed induction on May 1st he came into the world late Saturday night before Mothers Day. No crying, he just pooped on the doctor, who quickly handed him to me, then looked around the room with huge blue eyes.

#5 is such a friendly, loving boy! He'll give a big hug to anyone, he even lets our kooky neighbor lady love on him.

#5 asked for a lemon cake for his birthday. Yum,

Lemon Cake

I mix and bake 2 lemon cake mixes according to directions in my large Pyrex pan. We don't do 1 measly cake mix round these parts.

While the cake is still hot I poke holes all over the cake with a knife then pour lemon glaze over the whole thing. Lemon glaze is made by blending three cups powdered sugar and 1/2 cup real lemon.

So good!

Happy Birthday #5 and happy Tuesday everyone!

Mondays Muttered Mumblings

When The Tom Cats Away...

I had 16 hours of blissful aloneness! Each year our church sponsors a Father and Sons Outing, Daddies get to take their sons to a camp out with other men in the congregation.

For women with daughters this is a fun chance to have a girls night. For me, solitude, silence, no one to share with, my shows, no interruptions...

Here's a list of what I do when left alone.

Clean the house, because having it stay done for longer than 20 seconds is so worth it.

Plant tomatoes, no helpers, no one mixing up the plant tags so I don't know if I'm planting canning tomatoes or grape tomatoes, no one washing away the plants because they insist on watering with the hose on high.

Clean off my desk, do you see a trend here, I might be organized and immaculate if I had more me time.

Mop the floor, naked, how often do I get to wander my house the way God made me (well the way food made me), without freaking out my teenagers and getting my squishies goosed by my youngest.

Take a lonnnnng hot shower, by myself, no one climbing in, or pounding on the door or searching the house shrieking MOM, MOM, MOMMMM! over and over and over.

Talk on the phone while cooking a tiny little dinner, just for me. I nearly started a house fire cooking homemade french fries which I love but hate cooking for my crowd. For a moment as the smoke billowed I thought it might be fun to have some cute firemen show up ;) Then I remembered, "Oh yeah, my life is all about cute little men and their hoses, never mind!"

Eat boxes of Good and Plenty's and Crow's without having to share. The resulting tummy ache reinforced what I always sweetly remind my children, "STINKIN' SHARE WITH YOUR BROTHERS OR I'LL THROW IT ALL IN THE GARBAGE!" Er, did I mention I say it SO sweetly?

Sort socks, I deeply despise all things laundry, mostly because it's a process that just goes on and on and on and on, with unending interruptions that mess the whole process up. But, sorting socks, all by myself, while watching back to back "House" episodes, not bad!

TV, I am so sick of Dora and Diego and Disney Afternoon shows, and Discovery and History Channel. What fun, numbing my mind with my own programming selections until I fall asleep on the couch.

Sleep diagonally across the bed with no little bed buddies, don't mind the big bed buddy so much. Ahhhhhhh! Sleeping in until I wake up! Super Ahhhhhhhhhhh!

I know, I know, left alone I'm 5 or 6 cats away from a loony old lady, sorry mom, but oh the joys of time alone!

Moms!

Wow! Cause WOW is MOM upside down.

I had intended to write a wonderful post about Mothers and mothering. It would seem that being a Mom got in the way of wishing you all a Happy Mothers Day.

I got a book mark from #6, remember I mentioned how quiet he is and how I thought we may need to change our "Let deep thinkers think" policy and encourage him to share his deep thoughts? He gave me a darling little bookmark he had made at school. it has a poem on the front with his picture and a spot on the back for him to fill in the response, I love you mom, more than... #6 loves me more than Toast, Camping and Grandmas. I'm touched!

So here is my late, lame Mothers Day post for all the women in my life who reach out in so many sweet ways to mother me a bit.

I LOVE YOU ALL, MORE THAN TOAST!


HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!

What The...Fridays

Remember last Fridays What the... Fella at the baseball game? I have a feeling he's a permanent fixture, for the season anyway, which necessitates a nick name. I don't dare ask his real name because I just know when he says, " Wellll, muh Momma calls me Billy Bob but, muh Daddy, he calls me Bubba! And, I always say... just don't calls me late fer supper!" I'm going to pee my pants laughing which would make those metal bleachers a whole lot more uncomfortable then they usually are.

So, back to the nickname, I'm torn between Assassin or Mr. Pithy Pants. Eenie, meanie, miney, moe...I choose, Mr. Pithy pants, that way I can save the nick name Assassin for hip less folks, in too short t-shirts, everywhere.

Yesterdays ball game found Mr. Pithy pants wearing a t-shirt that said, "Heavy Weights."

What the...

Fortunately this t-shirt was a good deal longer, praise be to all that is holy. Even with all the boy parts hanging around here, I wasn't ready to see any bits of male anatomy exposed by a too short t-shirt with the warning, Heavy Weights.

And, speaking of Boy parts, the other morning #5 went to the neighbors to return a jacket left here by their son. #7 followed him outside and down the street wearing, you guessed it, nothing. Don't know what it is with that child.

#5, recognizing a tongue wagging situation in the making, took off his shirt and put it on #7. They came down to the laundry room where I was banished for the day, to tell the tale and show me their clever solution.

#7 thought he was pretty cute in his over sized t-shirt and, #5 apparently thought so as well because, later that day as I reviewed a few pictures on my camera I found a cute picture of #7 in the shirt and then a couple pictures of the parts of anatomy that the t-shirt was covering up.

What the...

Ahh, the joys of a life surrounded by men and their parts.

Inspired by You, Wednesday

Feeling cruddy today, hope it's not Swine Flu!

It's, for sure, a great reason to stay in a bathrobe till, uh hem, 5:oo pm.


My interview went well yesterday, it was comfortable and relaxed, as interviews go. Right after the interview They called my friend Suz, who works at the hospital where I interviewed and asked her lots of questions about me, "They asked me if you would be on time and functional" I thought I heard her say, she was on a cell phone at a soccer game.

"What did you tell them?" I asked, we both know saying we're getting somewhere by two o'clock really means three o'clock.

"I told them you would be on time."

"So, on time, but... not necessarily functional?" Dang, I should have listed a reference who doesn't know me so well.

"PUNCTUAL, not FUNCTIONAL!" She laughed at me.

Today my inspiration is my friend Suz! We share a name, 11 sons, one little girl and 16 years of ups and downs, good times and bad. She called a few weeks ago to tell me about this job, she's always looking out for me, heck she even has faith that if she can be on time to work, so can I. It's good to have such a great friend. Love Ya Suz! Fingers crossed that we'll be swapping work stories soon.

I'm off to another baseball game! Happy Wednesday!

Mondays Muttered Mumblings

Raising boys has taught me that phases come and go, there are ages and developmental stages that make me crazy followed by phases of relatively delightful behavior. The hope is that there will be balance and only half of my sons will be in a, 'make me crazy phase' at any given time.

My stress level has been at maximum over the past few months for fairly obvious reasons, no income, no jobs, no day care clients, then last week I realized that all my boys are in a developmental phase that is getting on my last nerve.

So, to better inform the boy parenting public I present seven brief case studies on what to expect in the care and nurture of sons.

1# is 18 years old, a senior and has a bad case of the, "I'm Pushing Every Boundary in the Effort to Establish My New Adult Identity Phase". Currently, he claims is no longer a member of the predominant Boy House religion, yet speaks about going on a church mission in less then a year. Does any one else see a contradiction? He finally asked for help finishing up graduation requirements with a whole 10 days left to accomplish it all. He constantly tells everyone in the family what to do including Boy Mom and Adorable Hubby whom he has decided to address by first name. Just don't even think about Telling. Him. Any. Thing. He is a study in opposites. I mean really, does a man who addresses other adults by their first names need help completing graduation requirements that they've known about for three years?

#2 is 16 years old. We'll just call his phase the, "My Sh** Don't Stink Phase." Sorry! There just isn't any other way to describe it. #2 is completely convinced that anything and everything he does is cute, smart and wonderful, especially telling #1 what he should do to make his life better. As you can imagine the arguments are beyond loud and hard to drown out. And don't you dare get in the middle of it because the whole thing is a lure to catch you favoring one side or the other at which point they'll suddenly be on the same team fighting like Spartan warriors against the evil parental horde.

#3 is 13 years old, and firmly entrenched in the," I need my own private Therapist Phase." If #3 is having a bad day he follows me around from room to room with sighs and mutterings until I stop everything and discuss with him the deep and pressing issues of his life.
"Why does that other kid want to play first base? Its' MY position?
" Why is my homework lab teacher so weird?"
"#1 and #2 are always telling me what to do, do they think I'm stupid?...Hey #5 go clean your room it's such a mess!"

My carefully directed therapeutic questions like, "Have you noticed that you boss your little brothers around just like #2 and #1 boss you?" Or, "Is it possible that some people think you're weird?" Are not well so well received, go figure!

#4 is 12 years old and loping along in the "I Can Do it Myself Unless it's Due Today then If You Could Drop Everything and help me, That'd be Swell Phase. It's hard to get too frustrated with #4 he is so happy go lucky and easy to deal with. But trying to finish up sixth grade is tough and I wish he'd give me a little more warning about research papers on Mongolia then 30 minutes before school starts. But alas sweet #4 has a stubborn streak that renders external motivation useless. Nothing gets done in #4's life unless and when he is ready to do it.

#5 is turning 8 years old soon, He is well into Boy Moms least favorite phase, "Everything, No Matter how Insignificant, is Part of a larger conspiracy to Ruin His Life Phase." At the park the other day #5's head got slightly bumped by the car door his brother was shutting. Oh the tears and wailing and head holding that ensued. I finally felt guilty enough to look, just in case he was bleeding profusely from a 6 inch gash...Nope not even a red mark.
This morning #5 came into my room, huge tears rolling down his cheeks, holding a disc from some electronic game. "Mom, I'm having a terrible day!" He sobbed burying his snot covered face in my freshly laundered, fuzzy, blue, bathrobe.
"What could have ruined your day at 8:00 AM?" I gently inquired through clenched teeth while trying to pry his arms from around my neck.
"PicMin II won't work, and it worked last night, and I didn't want it to not work this morning, and it just won't work, and all night long I wanted to play when I woke up, and now it won't work, and I don't even want to be awake if it isn't working, and now everyone is going to say it's my fault and my whole life is just ruined!"
"Uhhh, I'm not seeing how your life being ruined justifies boogers on my clean bathrobe?" Yeah, I wish I'd said that, instead I just patted his back and made soothing sounds until he was done. What else could I do? His "Whole life is ruined!"

#6 is 6 years old, he refuses to go to school each morning because it's BORING! He demands food every 15 minutes because he's STARVING! He won't eat meals because they're YUCKY! He wants to play with a friend right now or he'll DIE of boredom! He cries inconsolably when his friend has to go home because they only got to play for A COUPLE MINUTES! I don't even know what to call this phase but it is EXTREMELY ANNOYING!

And finally #7, the four year old baby of the family is in the WhHHiNNniNGgg phase! Do I really need to say anything about the whining phase?

I'm hanging on by a thread here folks and I'm beginning to suspect it's around my neck. But, I got a job interview for tomorrow on a job I was emailed that I'd been rejected for. So maybe I'll be leaving Adorable Hubby to deal with all this madness and be taking my, "Last Nerve, Crazy Mom Phase" into the workplace, which would really help with the, "I'm All Boy FEED Me Please Phase", that they're also all in. Wish me Luck ;)

What The...Fridays

Wow, I've been gone for awhile, it's amazing how busy life gets the last month of school.

#7 has been in fine form the past week. A few mornings ago he was playing with a yellow, smiley face, rubber, bouncy ball, "Mom, I said Magic-a-dabra. Look at me I made my ball disappear." I turned and looked at him standing with both arms spread out, hands open, evidence of his magic trick.

What the...

I had to turn around to hide the giggles, there was an enormous bulge in the front of his shorts. His Daddy often suggest similar magic games...

Then on Tuesday, Adam and his adorable little friend came running up to me, " MOM, COME SEE THIS! IT'S SO COOL!" #7 is 4 years old his little friend is 3.

"You really should come see this!" Said #7's friend, reassuring me that it was worth leaving my chair at the computer.

I followed them to the kitchen, "Look at that!" said #7. "I made it!" I was looking at a frozen chunk of ice cubes in the shape of the cup, that he had dumped out on the cupboard.

"Wow!" I said, keeping all but the tiniest trace of sarcasm out of my voice. Wondering why I had left my computer chair to see yet another mess.

"It's an Ice Scwulpture" #7 and his little friend announced.

What the...

How do a three year old and a four year old know the term, Ice Sculpture?

Don't you fear, I know you can never get enough What the... so, here is one more.

Adorable Hubby and I were at the ball park last night watching #4 play his first game of the season. We secured a coveted seat on the top row of the bleachers, where we would have a better view and a back rest. Sitting on the first row of the bleachers was a good sized fella eating nachos and wearing a shirt that said Warning Assassin.

WHAT THE...

Good thing he warned us, two inches below the hem of his shirt was, well...Uh hem. Did anyone else notice what is spelled twice in Assassin?

I finally had to move, when he loudly describe girl softball players to another parent, "Them girls is smart!" I didn't want to fall off the top of the bleachers laughing at our great view.