The Road to Recovery....

Today was the 4th consecutive week that we were in to see Edward, our hunky pediatrician. Archer woke this morning with a temperature of 104.4. He's been on antibiotics for 1 week, so I called to see what we should do, if anything.

They took X-Rays of his lungs, which had to be repeated because the first picture didn't turn out. His lungs showed inflammation, but no sign of pneumonia or RSV, thank goodness. We decided on a stronger antibiotic and breathing treatments for his wheezing. His double ear infection that he apparently had last week is clearing up.

The lady at the pharmacy was peaches and cream until she saw in her computer that I had picked up the SAME medication at a DIFFERENT Walmart just last week, and she didn't have it in her system. Like Amoxicillin has a street price or something. I told her I'd call just to make sure they sent it, which they said they had but if she didn't have it they could give her a verbal over the phone. Her peachy response to that idea was "I can't take a verbal, and our pharmacists don't like doing that because we have no idea who you have on the line. The pediatric nurse agreed to re-fax the script. After about 3 minutes of waiting, another lady asked if I had been helped and I told her we were waiting on a fax. The first lady told her she didn't have my script, and the lady said she was sorry she couldn't help. So I waited another minute and then I went and asked her if it had come through yet, because if not I'd be happy to call again. The broad said "oops, it just chimed...let me look" and pulled about 8 scripts off the fax. Lo and behold, mine was the bottom one, which makes me think it was there all along.

So I waited on the bench, glaring at her because I am so miserable with a migraine and cough. An old guy joined me on the bench and decided it was the perfect time to clip his fingernails.
Then once the scripts were filled, they told me they didn't carry the masks, so I had to locate them at a different pharmacy, call Edward back for a prescription, and then have Jason pick it up on his way home.
Hopefully we are all about to get better, we've been waiting on this sickness to lift for almost 2 weeks, and poor little Archer has been sick for 4 weeks straight.


On Saturday...

My chubby guy finally rolled over from his back to his belly...and he's officially outgrown everything in his dresser. I need to get through the clothes before people start asking if we're expecting a flood.

It's a darn good thing my husband doesn't snore....

Back Story: I hate listening to people snore, and although I used to want to rip their face off or put a pillow over their head*...I am somewhat tolerant of it now. My strategy is to try to get to sleep before them, which never works because when your thinking about falling asleep fast so you don't have to lie awake and listen to snoring, it never works. If that doesn't work...and it never does, I resort to clearing my throat loudly or wiggling the snorers head or yelling their name until they stop.

We are all sick with bi-polar noses...plugged up enough that we have to mouth breathe, and then all of a sudden, DRIP, right on your paper....

I set up the vaporizer in our room because Archer is really sick with wheezing and coughing. Last night I stayed up way to late on the internet so I was really tired when I finally got into bed. The vaporizer was empty, so I filled it all up after wrestling the stupid motor out, because they make them now so you have to line up this little plastic tab with a teeny tiny slot to get the motor part off to fill it with water. Of course both Archer and Trae are asleep in our room, so wrestling with this stupid vaporizer at the cost of waking one or both of them up is aggravating me big time, but I finally got it all set with water and Vick's VapoSteam and get my teeth all brushed. Then I remember the only way I can quit coughing long enough to sleep is if I have a cough drop in my cheek, because the mouth breathing dries out my throat, but I can't breathe through my nose even a little (this must be so attractive to my husband) so I grab a Hall's Vitamin C drop in my favorite flavor, grapefruit, and it tastes like junk because I just brushed my teeth. What I'm establishing here is that I'm annoyed with this ridiculous sickness we've had for 12 days, I'm already over tired, and now my cough drop is bitter.

I climb into bed and am almost asleep when I think I hear Trae gasp a little. I sit up in a panic and ask Jason whats wrong with him...he ignores me so I wait and hear it again, except it's not Trae, it's the stupid humidifier. I wish I didn't live in fear of missing something (like a gasp) and think that my kids are dying somehow because it puts me on high alert and makes it hard to fall back asleep once I establish they are alive and well. So I figure out that Trae is fine (and I'd love to put him in his crib so that he doesn't keep me awake all night by pulling my hair and/or hogging the entire king size bed, but I tried that 3 times already tonight and he wakes up and I'm to tired to deal with getting him back to sleep, plus my plan is to force Jason to do it later, he said some pretty hilarious things the other night that made no sense...) and I settle back down to drift off....and the stupid vaporizer is "snoring." It wheezes and sputters and snorks and sounds just like a snorer! My foul mood is quickly escalating, but I just keep whining to Jason like a three year old "UUUAAaaaagh, that stupid thing is soooo annoyyying..." hoping he'll get up and fix it because after all, he is supposed to protect this family, but he stays sound asleep. Oh, and I know I am acting juvenile, it's just that I am so tired and I want to sleep and snoring makes me so IRATE and I just want the stupid thing to DIE, but I know that it's whats best for my baby, so I cannot bring myself to unplug it.

So finally I hop out of bed and wrestle with the stupid tabby thing, trying to line it up with the slot. I yank it out, spilling the vaposteam, but I could care less at this point, as long as the dumb thing stops snoring. I get it all reassembled without waking anyone, and viola! the snoring stops....

.........for roughly 20 seconds. Enough time for me to get back into bed, butt pressed against Jason for warmth, pillow all fluffed....ready to drift off again.

So I resort to just putting my pillow around my head to cover my ears, since I can't completely cover my head or the mouth breathing would force me to smell my own breath, and smelling breath is another pet peeve and the very reason we cannot sleep facing each other. At some point I must have gotten so tired that the snoring vaporizer and the click clack of the swing couldn't keep me awake, and I slumbered and slept, albeit unsoundly what with the kid yanking my hair all night.

*obviously I would never have done this...all you snorers in my life...:0)


I think I'm going to marry my massage therapist...scratch that, we're both married.

I went for a massage last night on a whim. Archer is really sick, he has a respiratory infection and has been having a hard time breathing....so of course he's been fussy and I've been worrying a lot over here. The other kids have colds, which makes them extra whiny. Yesterday, Trae and Archer were both miserable and both wanted mommy and I was just ready to scream. Soooo, I called Jason and told him I was busting out as soon as he came home because I was getting very crabby with my kids. Ironically, my massage therapist had an opening 2 hours later and I got in. She is awesome, and she always goes over the 60 minutes...I think I ended up with 75. Then I paid her and forgot to give her a tip. So I called back and left a voicemail saying I would send it because she really deserved it, I just totally spaced, an on and on I rambled. She probably thinks I'm insane.

I got to get groceries afterwards, and I chose Walmart because I'm a sucker for a deal, and also I think it's awesome that if you need a job, but you can't do things efficiently, like Ivette for instance, they'll hire you anyway. This lady, like I am always in a hurry, so it gets to me if my cashier decides she needs to look at and comment on everything I'm buying. I wanted to shake the woman and tell her to stop keeping track of my "red items, wow, I can tell you really like red" and just scan the crap and put it in the cart. My other advice to her would be that the Malt-o-Meal doesn't need it's own special bag, nor does the Juicy Juice. Lets save some rain forests and not use 75 bags for $125 worth of stuff. Moving on...

I decided after I unloaded all my groceries into my van, that I was going to be lazy, despite that I couldn't use my usual excuse that I have kids in the car and someone could take them, and just pushed my cart up in front of my vehicle. A guy pulled in to the space in front of me, and smiled as he got out of his really nice SUV. He walks to my cart, looks at me and smiles, and then takes the cart to the cart corral. This guy is younger, like 21. To me it doesn't make sense if you are going into the store, to back track to the cart corral to put away a strangers cart and then go into the store, but back track he did. Of course I took my time backing out to see what he was doing, and apparently he was trying to teach me a lesson on putting my cart away like it says right on it, and the cart corral. Alrighty then, but I could teach him a little sumpn sumpn about belts and pants that fit.


Brookelyn and Trae were going to take a bath, except there was a dead spider in our tub. Trae hopped out and ran to me yelling "No bughh, no Bughh" but Brookelyn is brave and she picked it out with her bare hands. They both get settled in all nicely again, and before I know it, he's climbing out again, and screaming. He has a cap gun that he is nervously poking into his butt cheek as he points and tells me theres a bug. (side note: I am sitting at the computer and the door is wide open so I can see and hear them both) I go in and find a random hair strand and he's freaking out and screaming and carrying on about the "bug." He gets so worked up when I pull it out of the bath water, that he smacks his little man parts with the cap gun. He decides he's to scared to take a bath now, and limps out begging me to put a diaper on him.

So now, the child that used to bathe 4 times a day is afraid of the tub. Lovely.


funniest thing.

Brookelyn was sitting on my sister, Erica's, lap tonight, facing her...and says:

"betcha I can make you blink..." and Erica says "yeah, how's that?"

and Brookelyn hauled back and punched her square in the nose!

Apparently she was shocked and said she didn't mean to. She was on the verge of tears, and Erica was crying from the pain, but laughing too.

So then they tell me the other day Brookelyn was sitting on the fireplace mantle next to Erica, who was telling a story. Nikki says she was sitting there looking at Erica, then all of a sudden reaches out and cranks on Erica's nose. She wasn't gentle about it either, but they say you could tell she was thinking, "man that looks like a great nose to crank" and just impulsively cranked it, twice.


Morning Conversation

Trae sits up in bed, rubs his eyes...then scrambles to the edge and hops off. He runs out into the main area of the house.

Trae: Momma...? Daddy go...?

Me: Daddy's working.

Trae: No, Momma....noooo.

Trae: Eh-yit go?

Me: Elliot went to school.

Trae: Noooo, Mom.

Trae: Brooking go?

Me: Brookelyn's at Grandma's.

Trae: No. Mom. Brooking, no gamma's HOUSE!!

Then he notices his baby brother smiling from under the covers...

Trae: Aww, Ah-cha....HI, bebe...hi...

So it goes every morning, except most times Brookelyn's home and she gets him his sippy cup of milk when she's here. Same thing every day....and I love it.


We are:

coughing, sneezing, oozing, wheezing, freezing, shivering, aching, fevering, plugged up, eyes crusted shut, miserable human beings.


For John: Thanks for the memories.

Last night, my Dad, Jason, and the 3 older kids went to the rodeo. They were lucky to receive box seats free and had a blast. My Mom, Erica, and I decided (along with my jolly baby) to hit the mall and a few other stores. On our way, we found plenty of things to laugh hysterically about, one thing that stands out is when my Mom stops mid-sentence to yell "FLY...your dudes open!" It took awhile for (me in particular) us to calm down.

Shortly after we headed out, my older sister, Misty, called with some really sad news. The little boy, John, we played and laughed with way back when, who along with his older brother were like the brothers we didn't have, had been found dead. She didn't have the how or whys of it all. It's really hard to imagine how his Mom and Dad, who at the time were probably the closest to an additional set of parents that we had, were handling it.

I cannot imagine outliving my kids, and the other things that makes it even more excruciatingly sad, is that he has 3 little kids of his own.

I'm always trying to push away thoughts of something happening to my children, but then I think, what if I die and they are left without their Mommy?

Every memory I have of our old house where we lived until I was in 6th grade, include Tanner and John, and now when I think of these memories, I'll always be thinking of how he missed out on so much, died when he was only 27.

I think the funeral will be maybe the hardest for me to date. It's not like we remained close after it became "uncool" for girls of our age to have boys as friends, what with the boy germs all over the place, but every memory of my childhood seems to include him.

What I remember is playing WWF wrestling. I always had to be Scary Sherri because I had dark hair, my sister always got to be gorgeous Beth, with her long blond hair. Sometimes they'd be the Bush Wackers, Tanner was usually Hulk, and my little sister, Nikki, did an amazing Rick Rude.

Then there was the time when we went up to the old high school and I discovered a gopher in a window well. At that age, I had absolutely no fear, so I hopped in and caught the little thing. It bit me (of course) and they came to my rescue and stoned it to death. I remember feeling really good that they came to my rescue, even though looking back it was a very crude thing to do. They walked me home, sobbing and holding by bleeding finger. My Mom had them run beck up and retrieve the animal in case I broke out in rabies. I never did, and I think we threw the thing out quite a few years later.

Another time we went up to the top of a big hill at the Catholic Church (the same one I assume where his funeral will be held) to go sledding. I think we had tried maybe a day earlier and the hill was really sticky, thus slowing our sleds down. They had decided if we rubbed candle wax on the bottoms of our sleds, we would go faster. We all agreed to meet up there, or maybe we all walked up together, I don't recall. They brought one of their Mom's candles and waxed up our sled for us. They told us to try it out and see if it worked before they did their sled. Misty and I hopped in, and proceeded down the hill very fast, and through the chain link fence at the bottom of the hill. Tanner and John came barrelling down the hill, laughing their heads off. We of course were crying because we scraped our heads on the fence and the fence was their because there was about a 3 foot drop off onto the sidewalk. We landed hard on our butts, which knocked the wind out of me for sure. We sat there not really knowing what to do, not like we could move anyway. They stood there trying to stifle their laughter, like anyone would probably do, because I am laughing now recalling it. Their Dad, Rudy, happened to be driving by at the perfect moment, pulled over to the curb and ran to us. I think (this was a very long time ago, so I'm relying all on memory here) he scooped up both up and was hugging us and asking if we were alright. He loaded us into his car and drove us home.

I remember a dance we put on once. I got to dance with Tanner, who was actually the one I fancied. Misty danced with their cousin, Isreal. That left John out, so he danced with my little sister, Nikki. I thought it was really sweet because he had to dance on his knees, in order to be short enough. It was candle lit, and the taught us the "magic trick" of running your finger through the flame of a candle really fast without burning yourself that day.

Oh, and they had the most enduring nickname for me: FatCat, which they stopped calling me when I lost my baby fat. (which I really didn't have, I actually had abs way back then from playing on the monkey bars) but I was bigger than Misty. It's all good though, we all teased each other. Incidentally, when we found out the news, my littlest sister, Erica, asked if I was "John Amber John John" and I am. My Grandpa teased me that I liked him, and always called me that when I'd see him.

One last thing that my Mom reminded me of last night was one time when John pretended he had been hit by a car. He had us all stand around him acting all scared and then one of us ran and told Tanner that John had been hit by a car. Tanner took of running as fast as he could with tears streaming down his cheeks and as soon as he got there, Jon did his usual, "HAHHHHH, gotcha." At that point, Tanner started beating the tar out of him and cussing. We were all afraid of being run over, because we had stood by watching some older kids in the neighborhood play chicken and one of them had not made it across. Incidentally, it ended up being her grandma that hit her. She wasn't hurt bad, as it was only a 25 mph speed limit, but definitely scary enough for us watching on.

There are many more things that I can recount. I am so struck by this. I don't know how it will feel to face his family in their grief, knowing that there will be an empty spot in their lives where he belongs. I am really going to have a hard time seeing his little children who I haven't ever met say goodbye to their Daddy. When I go up to hug his parents, I don't know if they will recognize me. His Mom used to wrap me up in my "blankie" and rock me. I just know that it's going to be a rough one, and I wouldn't doubt there would pictures of us all together on the picture boards they always have at funerals.

I know that saying goodbye, even to a long lost friend, is going to sting like crazy.


Elliot had his conferences tonight. It seems if he's picked up anything from his momma, it's being very results oriented. His teacher says he does great at math if he takes his time, but misses complete columns because he wants to get done before everyone else and loves to finish...which sounds just like me.

She asked me about a sleepover that he and a boy in his class have been planning. Rumor has it that Wyatt was coming here and spending the night. I told his teacher that I'd have to get ahold of Wyatt's mom, because we'd love to have a friend over. As I was leaving, I ran into....Wyatt's mom in the hallway! Elliot's teacher introduced us, and then I said we should exchange numbers so we could get the boys together. She said "Not this weekend, because he's going to his dads, but next weekend works....that'd actually work really good because I work 2-10 and then I wouldn't have to worry about a sitter."

Raise any red flags for anyone else? I told her that would be fine, and then asked pertinent questions like "where do you live...?" (the nice side of the trailer park behind McDonald's) and then I told her where we lived because she wasn't interested in getting my information. I just think that you'd want to know where you were sending your child and what environment they'd be in, but she just kept saying it would work out really good so she'd have a sitter, and telling me about how tough her job at Kwik Trip is. Then she added "but not Saturday night Wyatt, because you have a birthday party. First of all I didn't invite him for next week in the first place, but it does work...but to say a second night doesn't work for her? I just hope I'm not going to become the drop-in daycare.

On the bright side, it will be Elliot's very first sleepover!



Yesterday I took Archer in for his 6 month well baby visit. Our pediatrician, Edward, is awesome and quite a cutie for an older guy. I took my mom along because I have the weird thing with the needles. We started out the visit with a major blowing out of the diaper...well actually, he didn't even manage to blow it out the diaper, it managed to seep through somehow. I took him out of his seat and he has a poop spot about 4 inches below where his diaper ended on his back. Figure that one out....anyway, the cranky nurse that looks like she's in middle school yet, managed to glove up and collect all the contaminated items and put them in a biohazard bag for me. The thing is though, for some reason my prowess at changing a diaper (I mean c'mon by the 4th baby it's old hat, plain and simple) went completely MIA and I kept getting baby diarrhea everywhere. We had it on the paper they use to protect the exam table, but Archer kept squirming his way back onto it, thus smearing it around more on the paperand back onto his body. Finally, I ripped it off and threw it in the trash, but then the fecal residue that was still up his back went directly on the exam table....little miss teeny bopper was super impressed. She got out her Super Duper Pooper Spray (don't worry, I will not try to publish that) and sanitized the area (thank goodness because I was really worried that my baby was rolling around in other baby excrement) and then put new paper down. She got him measured (28 inches...90%) and then we took him to the scale for a weight. (19 1/2 pounds...75%) She told us Edward would be in momentarily.

In walks Ed, looking all doctorish and handsome. He reminds me of the Kendoll of the Beast, from Beauty and the Beast. He has longish, dark hair, and very dark brown eyes. He is an amazing doctor, and totally does not look like an Edward. Just sayin'....

Moving on...

Just as we started to discuss if I had any concerns, (no) my mom interjects by saying "Excuse me, do you mind if I ask you a personal quesion....?" and my heart does on bad drop. I'm trying to give the the "please don't ask about fat pads* or turteling penises* mom, please..." look. She smiles all sweet and ignores the look, that is if she even saw it, and then goes into her questioning.

Sweet Mom: "So, do you like, cut your eyebrows?"

Edward: "Haha...I don't cut them, but I do wax them. I'm kind of metrosexual like that, and I actually like to have them waxed...except the part right here (motions underneath the eyebrow) that really hurts, but the rest I like."

Sweet Mom: "Well, they look really nice, they're so perfect..."

Me: (dying of embarrassment) "Mom....I have to see this man again...he's like, our doctor and all, please do not embarrass the man...."

Edward: "No, it's okay, I'm not embarrassed...I am a metrosexual, so it's all good. I don't mind if people ask, obviously I have something done" He's not arrogant at all, seriuosly. Just knows he looks good. I really like him because I saw him in the mall once picking out perfume for his wife and I thought he was sweet after that.

Me: "I like to wax peoples eyebrows..." SHUT UP, Amber...he's going to think you want to wax his eyebrows, which would just be weird. Of course, so is his love of having them done, and your love of waxing eyebrows. I mean, it is really kind of a fetish...

They go back and forth about waxing and metrosexuality, while I sit there thanking all thats good that we are discussing eyebrows instead of the peek-a-boo penis.*

We decide to get on with the visit and I just keep chuckling nervously because I'm all stressed out about the needles that will be jabbed into my childrens thighs (Trae needed a booster shot as well) and now we are discussing my cute pediatricians grooming habits. I secretly wonder if he'll charge for that...and I'm pretty sure that his long locks are actually plugs, because when he bent over to check the baby, it looked like he had some patchy spots. They must be the really expensive ones because his hair is rather silky. Must be spending all his money on keeping himself up because he told me last week that they used Luv's for their kids because they were cheaper. I was a little shocked...nothing against Luv's, except that they give my kids a rash so I can't use them, I was just surprised a doctor would use an off brand diaper.

As it turns out, Archer is right on target with his development. We were advised that we could move on to soft table foods like toast and cheerios and bread. We bid farewell to Edward and my sweet mother held the kids down for their shots while I waited in the hallway.

>>>>>Side note: I am a needle phobe for anyone new to the blog and rather then me pass out or hyperventilate during the shots, I shirk the duty off onto my Mom. I figure they'll be less scarred by the shots themselves and my absence to be there with them, than if I pass out and they have to watch on and wait for me to come to. (Someday maybe I will do a post on how my body feels leading up to and during anything to do with needles and blood, so you can understand the extent of my fear here. I have been told many times "no one like needles", just to pass out on the nurse and then when I come to, she says "I guess you really don't like needles..." Thankfully I'm to shaky at that point to punch her out )

We went to Atlanta Bread for lunch and of course we fed the little guy some bread. It is h.i.l.a.r.i.o.u.s. He gags and retches and makes all these screwed up faces, and then begs for more. Maybe I'll post a video someday, or not, we'll see.

* A peek-a-boo, or turteling penis....how can I explain...? So when baby boys are really chubby, of course they are chubby everywhere. Edward always comments on the "fat pad" which is the chub above the penis, that makes the little guy go in...like a turtle, until he loses some baby fat and then the little guy pokes out again. Common in babies circumcised or not, and they do outgrow it, so as not to be embarrassed about this post if you ever read it. I still get all offended when Edward says they have a fat pad though.


A Royal Fairytale

Prince Archer Cole was begging his Royal Princess Mommy to take him for the ride if his life in the stroller, her with her Royal Rollerblades strapped on her royal feet....(you don't even want to know how she get in this position for the royal photo, or how she managed to get back on her feet.) She had to overcome the mouse nest in her Royal Rollerblade, but not to be deterred, she ripped it out, threw it one the floor of the Royal Garage, and off they went.

I have a very important and challenging job...they force me to look cute all day.
We trekked uphill in the Royal stroller and it started to get darker and colder with each passing minute. Princess Mommy's thigh muscles quivered and cramped and just when she got really focused on not dying from the horrible cramp in her hip...the Little Prince became unhappy.

Princess Mommy reassured him she wasn't really dying, she just felt like she might and she was sorry for making him afraid. He protested he didn't much care about her plight, he was freezing cold and a little bored with this "adventure." Princess Mommy got going so fast she even impressed herself, and she's pretty hard to impress. All of the sudden, the Royal Stroller weebled and wobbled and then starting zigging when it should have been zagging and Princess Mommy knew something wasn't right. Suddenly, she heard a pop and then the Royal Stroller really veered off to the right and Princess Mommy finally realized the problem.

She managed to slow the Royal Stroller and set the Royal Prince gently down and turned back to see....

....nearly 50 feet back was the Royal Stroller Wheel. Princess Mommy quickly retrieved it and attempted to mend the broken buggy. It was no use, and after having to stop, retrieve, and replace the broken wheel at least 2 more times, she waved good riddance to it and let bygones be bygones. She decided to call the Royal Manny (who also happens to be the Royal Daddy, because she could never afford both) to come with the Royal Limo and rescue them. There was just one problem...

...the battery on her Royal Cellular Telephone was low, and the Royal Manny wasn't answering his portable Royal Cellular Telephone, for he was out in the courtyard playing with the other Princes and didn't want his pockets to look all bunchy. By that time the cute Little Prince was fast asleep, trusting that Princess Mommy would get him home all safe and sound. (she was beginning to wonder)

Princess Mommy decided she would just have to push the lopsided Royal Stroller the best she could, because it was getting much to dark for the Little Prince to be out, and the Royal Manny never answers his portable telephone. She decided to snap a picture of her self being not frazzled and irritable about it because she surprised even herself. She figured she may as well make the best of the situation...if life hands you lemons...if your Royal Stroller turns into a lemon mid-stroll...
She decided to try and contact the Manny one last time because the cramp in her hip would not let up and she was starting to curse her Royal Blades, and also she was afraid she might lose control f the Royal Stroller and have a Royal problem.
Amazingly....the Manny paused his Mafia Wars session and snatched up his phone. She explained her plight and he agreed to come rescue them right away.

Princess Mommy was never so glad to see her Royal Limo pulling up even though it's a has been model with a dent in the hood. The pictures she took up Prince Trae and Prince Elliot driving the Royal Limo were blurry because she was shaking from the exertion of her little escapade. She feels the need to add here that she had the Little Prince only 1/4 mile from home and they were sitting on the Royal Manny's lap so everyone was safe, but not legal.

The Little Prince was all cozy in his seat and the Royal Lemon was loaded into the back of the Royal Limo to be put out on the curb the next morn. The Mommy Princess got to have some free time to blade all by herself back to the Royal Palace where all the Princes were waiting with the Royal Manny to greet her when she arrived safely home.

Little Prince

ridiculously adorable hat compliments of Grandma Julie.

**check back for a royal fairytale adventure when Jason comes home with my memory chip!


So I hear they're coming out with George Clooney flavored tofu...apparently someone confiscated some of his sweat from a towel at the gym and made tofu to taste like his sweat smells...? I didn't research it at all, but if you can find in on the interenet, it has to be true.

That is all. Goodnight.


I realized I forgot to post pictures from the circus...anyhow, Jason just asked Trae what his favorite part was. (1 week later). He said the elephants. Jason asked if he rode the elephant and he said "no....much money!" $10 a person to ride an elephant...I was bitter because I wanted to ride an elephant.


All Homey and Motherly, like Betty Crocker

So, I went out and bought this cute apron. I figure I may as well accessorize my sweatpants. Two of my friends (well a sister and a cousin) really couldn't understand it....but how domesticated do I look as I bake my sister a birthday cake?
...and bake my husband bread for his lunch. I'm the new "bread machine" if you know what I mean.

and this is just really super cute, and no he was not helping with the bread or the cake!
I just have to document that I did indeed use my blender..here is an excerpt from my last cake baking foray:

We had Brookelyn's birthday dinner at Mom and Dad's last night. I made the cake all by myself!! Everyone complimented me on it, and Elliot was on to his second piece before everyone was served. It was a princess cake. It was gaudy. It was pretty. She loved it. My mom made a comment about chewing something that seemed like an egg that wasn't completely mixed in. I was sitting next to Misty, who shortly after that, held something up, and asked "what IS this?...I think I have, like an entire egg yolk!" I laughed so hard, I very well could have dropped the baby at the dinner table. It was flat out snorting. For about 5 minutes. My Dad was really disgusted, and asked how I managed to cook a whole egg yolk into the cake, and my Mom told my secret...."She doesn't use a blender, just stirs everything in..." "Well, we need to get her one, does she have one?" "Dad, I already have one, and I was tired okay." Another round of snorting and my Dad "that's gross. I'm not eating cake that you make anymore unless you use a blender." (me gasping for air and writhing) It was hilarious, still is except I'm waking my family so I have to stop laughing so loud.

But that was the old me...the new me wears fancy aprons and uses fancy appliances when she bakes. So too bad, Dad, that your gallivanting all over Belize and Mexico and New Orleans, because this is one mean cake.

p.s. Just so you don't get the wrong impression, the reason I'm wearing clothes as opposed to sweats under my apron, is because I actually was forced to get dressed today...I had company come.

Tomorrow I am hosting my first play date ever...the kids (brookelyn) are so super stoked, and Elliot is bummed that he has to go to stupid school.

The Oasis

This is probably my favorite thing about the whole house, this sink. I also loved the mirror until I realized that in order to clean it properly, you have to take it all apart.

Everyone (read: every mom) needs a place where they can go to relax. This has become my "thing" because I can really only get like 15 minutes to myself before little people start wondering why I'm so quiet and come looking for me. Then they stand at the door and scream "momma...peas!!...baaaaffff....mommma" until I cave. And then the really little guy is just so darned cute about his baths that once I have one in, I invite him to. He loves it...he gets all excited and about wiggles out of his seat with glee.

So where do you go to relax?


I was sitting at the supper table tonight with what someone recently referred to as "the herd" and then "the flock" and I finally suggested maybe "the family" was the word he was looking for, calling them all lovingly by the wrong names and begging them to use their manners when they ate. I was doing supper alone, because Jason is MIA for tonight at least and possibly the remainder of the week. (which would be great because it's whitesheet and piles of $$) Anyway, there was a picture of Trae's tiny little feet when he was newborn and it got me to thinking, how did I even get to this place? How did I get to be the mother of 4 amazing kids? I somehow have 3 sons and a daughter, how lucky am I. No matter what, I will always have been the mother to my children and the wife to my husband, no matter what. Sometimes I love them so much it breaks my heart. I suppose I love them so much all the time, but when I take the time to ponder just how intense it is, my heart just hurts because I have no idea how long I get to keep them, or if I'll be around to see them grow and have families of their own. I get to be the one to answer the tough questions, like "where do Ninja's live...?" (anyone know?)

I have no idea when it became socially unacceptable to have more than, say, one or two kids, but frankly if you have that opinion and disapprove of our choice (and it was a conscious one) to have 4 kids, do me a favor and keep that little gold nugget to yourself. I am starting to get very offended because everytime I turn around someone is commenting about how I have to many kids. What I'd love to say to them is "If I had to choose one to have never known, who do you think I should choose?" Because I cannot imagine my life any different and know that without any one of them our story would be so different and our lives so incomplete. I don't care what you do in your family...have one, have 2, have a dozen...just stop making it seem like my children wouldn't be missed if we hadn't been blessed with them. We love our kids and hearing your off handed comments and "jokes" about "not knowing what causes pregnancy" are rude and insensitive, and to me feels like you're just saying that any one of our children could be missing and the world would not be changed. Better yet, that the world would be better off with out them. Please and thank you.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to tuck them in.

6 months

you are one amazing little guy...i love you so much!


Those with small children, please take the time to read this:

I was reading my favorite blog...please go read for yourself.


Not That Different

I'm heartbroken and realize that we all love our children and would never intentionally hurt them, but we are not invincible.


Happy 17th Birthday Erica!

Happy Birthday sweet baby sister. Don't even say you look dumb in this picture because me and all the blogosphere will just disagree anyway. You were like my very first baby, so thanks for all the practice :0) As soon as it gets warm, we'll be taking your senior pictures....what happened to the little blond haired blue eyed baby who ran around the house yanking her own ponytail? Well, she became a gorgeous young girl who makes amazing art and can do the "Napolean Dance" better than Napolean himself. Someday when you are huge in the glass blowing world, I'll be able to brag about that, and have your work lovingly displayed all around my house. If I could, I'd like to request a nice chandelier...something fancy.

I might just mention here, as I know there will be inquiries...she is available, but there is a rigorous screening process. Me, along with her other 2 older sisters hold auditions, and if you pass, we'll think about letting you date her. Please be advised, she is our baby sister....you break her heart, we'll break your face. Have a great day.

Happy Birthday!!

I Hate luv's. GRRRR...

I bought Luv's when we were in GA, because they were, well, cheaper. I got the big box because I'm a sucker for a bargain, so we are just finishing up the box for both boys. I debated because in the past when I've tried them, the kids always got a rash...but Marsha hasn't had a problem, so I decided to try them again. Well, they've both had rashes since. Nothing really bad, just chafed a little. I think it's the perfume....
I think I can count on 2 hands the number of times they DIDN'T leak when Archer had a messy diaper, and most mornings the boys are wet because the diapers aren't very absorbent. Am I in the minority here of Mom's who don't wake their sleeping children to change their diaper? I went out and bought 2 big boxes of Huggies last night...we are down to 6 Luv's for Trae and 13 for Archer and then it's back to what we know.
I also thought I'd share the conclusion I've come to that this extended winter is making us all snarky, myself included. I have had so many borderline rude things said and done lately and I've managed to keep it off my blog because who really wants to listen to whining and complaining. So, instead of taking it personal, from here on out I'll respond by saying "you're not a rude person, it's just the weather..." and then instead of letting it poison my day I'm just going to let it go.
Last night we got out for a walk and it definitely put a jog in my step. I'm so happy to have Jason home...I finally had something to warm my butt up on in bed. (incidentally, I asked him what he thought I missed the most about him being gone and he said "someone to put your cold feet on) In all seriousness, I missed him making me laugh and someone to talk to and seeing him with the kids, because these kids, really love their Dad. Trae asked about daddy everyday and when I told him daddy was at work, he's drop his head and squint his eyes and say "Noooo, mom..." Anyway, back to business as usual today. I get to watch Anya tonight, so I'll snap a few pictures, and then off to play a game that I have no clue how to play...but Nikki and Tony are watching the rugrats and I could use the break.
Have a beautiful day, everyone!


1. Are these 2 children twins:

[ ] Yes, absolutely.
[ ] I couldn't be sure, I need to use a lifeline.
[ ] No, definitely not.
Please fill out the ballot in sharpie marker only when you have determined your final answer.
Someone actually mistook them for twins yesterday, so I explained that Archer was 6 months and Trae was 2 years...."are you stupid...?" must have been written all over my face because she quickly followed up with "but that's ones catching up, right....RIGHT?" So I did what any polite person would and said "yep, almost caught up..." and then she redeemed herself by telling me she was just expecting her first grandchild, so....
So that means she's actually had kids....and....you know what? Never mind.
*please tell me you don't have marker on your computer screens..:0)


So I haven't been in a particular mood to blog lately. Aside from the fact that winter is dragging on and on and on, well I don't know, I think that's the very reason right there. Besides that, the economy sucks and it's starting to scare me.

When we were first married, we had lots of extra money. I went for massages once a month and we ate out and had salon shampoo, which in my opinion is the best kind to have. Then we had Elliot. I still did the massage thing and had the good smelling shampoo, but we did fewer extravagant things. When Brookelyn was born, I did massages about every 3 months, but I still got my shampoo and was happy with that. Besides, I had my little rugrats to look after and it wasn't really a trade off because I was having so much fun. When Trae was born, I was ecstatic because we had put a lot of money, not to mention (my) our entire focus into conceiving. On the way home from the hospital, the transmission went out on our van. We had bought it in cash, but we didn't have the means to do that again, so a loan was taken out and we tweaked to make it work. Two months later, the transmission went out on Jason's truck, also paid off. Another loan was taken out, and soon we had things figured so that it still worked. Fourth baby comes, mom just had her first massage in over two years at Christmastime, with no plans of another one for a very long time. But, but what we've got going on over here...well, it's amazing.

I love to dress the kids up all cute and go out as a family and just be. Sure, we're not taking them to Disney On Ice, but they have more fun at the park anyway. I used to think that they had to do everything all the other kids were doing, or it somehow made us less adequate as parents. Now, I just know that we have to make it work with our budget and as long as we are with them, they are happy with that.

The other night when I took all four of the kids to Walmart and the grocery store, I thought it would be hectic and frustrating. Well, it was a bit of a challenge getting them all into the store, but once I didn't have to try to lug the carseat while bending to hold on to a tiny hand, it was all good. I even let Trae walk, I amazed myself there because I am such an impatient person and usually I'd force him in the cart as not to slow down the process. I grabbed necessities, told the kids no each time they asked for something, and headed out of the store. For most of my life, I've been trying to get to the next thing, and feel like I'm not thoroughly enjoying the moment.

I bought Suave shampoo, and you know what? It smells just as delicious as my expensive stuff and it suits my hair just fine.

You'd think I'd be looking forward to when I can have the expensive stuff again, right? That'd mean that we had excess money to go around again. Well, it also means my kids are that much closer to venturing out on their own, and I can wait on that.

I just can't wait for Jason to make it back and we can hang out, everyone together, and we can talk about how cute the kids are and read them books, and as soon as it warms up go for walks together.

Although this is disjointed and patchy writing, it's all I can do right now and it's what's on my heart today.


Comparison: Trae 2 1/2 mos...Archer 6 mos


Archer Archer


Pictures with Tongue

a new favorite thing

As I mentioned, Jason will be out of town all week. Yesterday was the perfect day to run out of milk, because there was no way I could put off getting more until he returned. That meant that I had to load all the kids up and take them with me. My parents are on a cruise, so I couldn't drop them off there for a break if I needed one.

We made it into Walmart and Festival Foods and back home and the kids were great. We did it in roughly an hour, so maybe that's the trick? Go fast before they have time to rebel....

I bought chocolate milk, and they were all begging for some, so as I'm getting cups out for everyone, I hear a very odd noise...like gluggluglug....and then see the gallon of chocolate milk in a puddle on the floor. Trae was just watching and saying "choca-mewk, mom, choka-mewk peassss." I grabbed it and did preserve some, and then I asked Trae why he did that. (I believe it was a body slam of some type) and he looked up at me and said "cuz....choca-mewk, mom. Peasss....?"
It was cute.


Dear Blog:

We have to talk.

I realize you don't like serious, but we have to have a discussion about this relationship. It's just, I need some space.

blog throws the "clicker" against the wall and shrieks. "It's Facebook...he's ruined our relationship. Just because he's the new and exiting thing and you're addicted to chit chat..."

Oh yeah, I should have known you'd bring Facebook up, but he has nothing to do with this....and it's just chat, not "chit chat." I have 152 things needing a piece of the pie, and he is a friend. I have obligations to my friends. And my kids and husband and house.

We'll still talk and reminisce. It'll be just like old times...laughing about some random thing the kids said or did, you crying on my shoulder when we don't get comments or lose followers. I'll still be right here. It's just, well....I'd like to see other people. Put my head on straight, work out some things.

I'm not saying it's over, I'm just saying we need to cool it.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

Love ya Cutie.....ME xoxox


Playing "Cowboys"

The Mr.

I'll be flying solo all week...which is definitely a challenge, but we need the money, so I'm happy.

***Trae just fell off the chair and used Elliot's hair to catch himself. Elliot was super impressed.
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