It's time to once again check the temperature in hell

There have been several times around here I know I've said that hell may have actually frozen over. But this time, I'm serious!

It's been one of those days. The rare kind where I might not want to put my own head in a toilet and flush just to get a break from the craziness or myself.

I didn't even get up declaring, "Today is the day! I'm gonna try really hard. I'm going to take Super Nanny's advice and throw in a combo pack from several dozen parenting books for good measure." Nope. Just got up and didn't look back. Maybe that's the key: don't try?

Now when I say *don't try* please don't misunderstand me. I didn't go lock myself in my room with a TV and a box of Oreos and let the kids run amuck. I guess today it was more of an issue of enjoying my role as mom. GASP. Is that possibly the key ingredient that I miss most days? Shoot. Why didn't someone tell me?!

First of all, I didn't fight with anyone. I know the day is not over, but still, it's nearly 5:00, which by the way, is clock out time for me! I didn't yell. I didn't even want to yell. There were occasions where I might could have yelled. But I didn't. One time I calmly sent Olivia to her room and told her that when she is being mean to me, I'd rather she be in a different room. It worked like a charm.

For once, I noticed Turner obey (not that its for once he obeyed... well okay, so it was... but its more that I noticed) and I praised him and gave him a sticker on the sticker chart. He's been a DREAM ever since.

I forgot to put a Pull-Up on Quinn at nap time. Naturally, he had a tinkle accident. All over himself and the duvet cover. I didn't even feel frustrated inside. I simply cleaned up the mess and explained "accidents happen" (which also happens to be the name of a very annoying song on Elmo's Potty Time) and although I seem to be having an out of body kind of experience good day thing going on, I did NOT break into song. Let's keep it real people.

Then, I needed to bake a cake for some guests that are coming over. Usually just the thought of people coming over sends me over the edge with irritability. Oh the cleaning, the cooking and did I mention the cleaning? But instead of getting tense, I let O help me with the baking. She did a pretty good job. Until it came to making the butter cream frosting. After dumping a full cup of powdered sugar successfully into the bowl, she flung the Kitchen Aide onto high. Yep, full on cloud of powdered sugar covering her, me, the floor and the counter. But because I'm using up all the rest of my *luck* for 2010, I didn't yell. I FREAKIN LAUGHED. My daughter and I had some kind of Hallmark commercial moment. What the flippity flap is going on over here?

Is it the Christmas spirit? Can you get high from a White Barn candle in Winter scent? Is it the bottle of Merlot I drank at lunch time? (oh, I kid)

Whatever is going on around here, I'm not exactly sure. All I know is, if this is a dream, please don't wake me because I kind of like it this way.

duty calls

Here is my post-Thanksgiving wrap up. I'm doing this mostly because you're suppose to. Right? I mean a reason I keep this here blog is so that there is a document in history that proves we survived Thanksgiving 2010.

We went up to Toledo to spend the holiday with my dad. And because the idea of me cooking the holiday meal for us in his small-ish one bedroom apartment while the 3 kids ran around and the two men read the paper and watched football rivaled the thoughts of having the stomach flu while recovering from hernia surgery; we opted to go to a nearby hotel, featuring a lovely buffet.

I made reservations for 12:30. Mostly so I (I mean, we) could watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Not so much because anyone was interested. Even I got bored with the bad lip syncing. But that's what you're suppose to do. Right?

So we climbed in the van and attempted to take some family photos. Because you're suppose to. Right?

Trying to get my kids to sit still for pictures is like herding cats. Family holiday fun at its finest.

And to the ladies at the buffet who were whispering something about Super Nanny as my kids were in the buffet line, you can stuff it like that bird lying there! You think it's no picnic being around us? Try living with us! But we smiled and pretended like we didn't hear it. That's what you're suppose to do. Right?

In light of my mom being gone, it was really important that we get some pictures of my kids with my dad. One thing I really regret about losing my mom is that I didn't have many pictures with her and the kids toward the end. Mostly because she didn't want to be in any pictures.

Well, as you can see... the kids were in FULL cooperation mode after the meal. By the end, Turner was in time out and Olivia was in tears and I was full on mad. Our first fight of the day. But hey, its the holidays. It's what you're suppose to do. Right? (or is that just my family??)

But one thing I KNOW you're suppose to do is learn how to NOT cross your legs so that your rear end is the focal point of the photo! Right?Somebody send me to a weight watchers meeting REAL quick (or at least a lesson in how to sit to minimize your stuff.)

At least I crossed my legs though, c'mon dad. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. At least were both smiling. I KNOW you're suppose to do that. Right?

All in all it was a good holiday. I anticipated it being a lot harder than it was. But there were smiles, laughs, tears and just that one fight.

I even made it out to a store or two on Black Friday (after the crazies were passed out from their 3am victories.) Because spending money the day after Thanksgiving is what you're suppose to do! Right?

And I do it so well!

Goofballs r us

Feel free to abandon ship now... this is a post mostly of weirdo pictures of my kids because its been a long time since I've posted any pictures.

Of particular interest in this photo would be Olivia's jeans. The girl is FINALLY wearing jeans after 2 1/2 years.

A few days ago there was silence and I enjoyed it for awhile until I realized there was silence!

I found these two knee deep in the coat closet. The word that comes to mind?
Nepali Sherpa.

Although it is 70 degrees here today, it was really cold for a few days last week. Time to try on the winter coats. I'm pretty sure there is a boy in there somewhere. Not long after I snapped this shot Quinn started yelling, "Mom. I'm choking." Perhaps a bit too tight?

I loaded the family up for another one of my "brilliantly unresearched" adventures. The local outdoor mall was having their kick off to Christmas festivities on Saturday. So after ballet class and flu shots we shuffled over there.

Only to find that stuff REALLY didn't start for another 4 hours. Hey, at least we beat the crowds, right?!

We were headed to a baby shower, so that is why Olivia is dressed to the 9's. She'd been bugging the crap out of me to wear her new Christmas dress and it seemed like a shower was a good enough occasion (better than a trip to Target.)

There were reindeer.

And we didn't even have to shove through a crowd to see them.

Well planned, if I do say so myself.

Did I mention it was a bit cold? Like freezing. But again, being well planned, I forgot coats.

Luckily there were heat lamps from time to time.

And there are these weird animal statues up for the holidays.

Weird because they are elephants and giraffes and buffalo.

Whatever. The kids liked them.

And this concludes one of the more random posts.

Have a nice day.

Please don't hate me

I'm about to do something I've never, in all of my thirty-eight years, done before. I've gone back and forth trying to decide if its even morally right. But then I think about it more and more and have decided its a preference thing. I may get judged, and I'm okay with it. Although I am one for traditional values and to think of bucking those for the first time in my life is really really hard. And I think if my mom were still here I wouldn't even DARE consider this. But she's not so I'm going to take a walk on the wild side. I don't think I'm caving in to social pressure. I don't think it's that I've had evil influences bombarding me from all sides (although some of you will say differently.) You and I may part ways here and if we do, I will miss you but will completely understand. To each his own. And I may sneak back to you with my tail between my legs begging for your forgiveness if this turns out to be a bad idea. If that happens, please be gentle with me. I'm a delicate flower.

I know the suspense is killing you so here goes nothin':

I am going to break out the Christmas decorations early this year and put my stuff up this weekend.

For my whole life the *rule* has been they don't go up a day before the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Nor do you listen to one single Christmas song before that day as well. But you see, a month just isn't nearly worth it. All the effort. All the trips up and down and to and from the attic. Yada Yada. And with the kids (is it wrong to use them as my scapegoats?) I want to milk every day of this holiday season.

So, if you don't hear from me this weekend, it's probably because I'm knee deep in tinsel and twinkly lights. Either that or one of you has hired a hit man to take me out. It would be easy to do 'cuz now you know where to find me!

I should be ashamed

But I'll just blog about it instead.

Every year when it gets a bit chilly we have the same problem. I imagine lots of people have this issue, but because we live in an "historic home" (which is just code for really old and really porous and I wish I had known that seven and a half years ago when we bought this thing) we might have a bigger issue than most.

We have mice.

The guy that lives in our rental unit (the back 1/4 of our house) left us a note the other day asking if we had any extra mouse traps. Apparently, he has had some visitors. Which only means one thing, we do too.

Blah. I HATE mice. H.A.T.E. And I know this is not the first time I've mentioned that here. Some of you have even left tips on how to rid ourselves of the issue. We even called pest control last year. Apparently, it did a lot of good.

So, Steve set out some traps yesterday evening. We caught 3 before we even went to bed.

I just got home from the Y this morning with the boys. We were taking off shoes and jackets and Quinn had to go to the bathroom. (The downstairs bathroom is part of our mud room and is also part of an addition that was put on in the 70's.) It is also the place in the house where we catch the most mice. Two traps are hidden right behind the toilet. Which makes for some nice surprises from time to time. But hey, a dead mouse is better than a live one any day.

I've been bribing Quinn to go potty- start to finish- all by himself. Which usually results in him being naked from the waist down. But part of the bribe includes him re-dressing himself when he's finished.

After he was done he was calling for help because his underwear were inside out. He needed my help. I opened the door and he was sitting on the floor, bear buns and all with the MOUSE sitting right next to him. How Quinn didn't see him, I'll never know.

What comes next is where the shame should come in. And I assure you, deep in my bones, there is shame.

I took one look at that mouse all hunched up and I screamed like a little girl and slammed the door shut. So that I was safely on the other side. Then I realized I had just trapped my 3 year old son... half naked... in there with the mouse. So I threw open the door and yelled for Quinn to get out. (The whole time Quinn's giving me the 3rd degree... "Why you screamin' mama?") Then I realized that his pants were still in there.

Figuring that the mouse was long gone after my blood curdling scream, I made a dash for it. I tried to grab the pants but I hit the mouse with them as he was cowering in the corner. I screamed louder and longer this time and ran WITH OUT the pants. So I did the first thing I knew to do... call Steve at work and ask him to come home, because CLEARLY I was being held hostage.

As I was on the phone I went to take a look and standing there LIKE HE OWNED THE JOINT was the mouse in the middle of the back hallway. Dang it. If the first two screams didn't do it, I guess the 3rd one did. Because my husband is just that amazing (and because he was doing work at the coffee shop down the street this morning) he came home. And he just announced from the back hall that he got him. STILL ALIVE. Injured, but still alive.

My hero scooped him up and got rid of him. Apparently, the trap went off and injured him and that's why he didn't scurry off like they normally do.

Oh my word, it's going to be a long winter.

It might be early...

but I'm still thankful.
Thankful to be feeling really, really good.

Thankful that I was able to be on the elliptical machine for 45 minutes yesterday and today and felt great. And don't worry, I DID NOT over do it!

Thankful for my kids. They are crazy and require a LOT of training these days. But I like them. I really really like them.

Thankful that my husband is an involved and hands on dad.

Thankful for a mother-in-law who gave up a week of her life to come and help me after surgery.

Thankful that although I miss her like crazy, my mom does not have to go through another holiday season suffering and wishing she could *feel up to stuff.*

Thankful that she gets to celebrate her birthday with Jesus this year (do you think we'll celebrate our birthdays anymore once we're in heaven? Probably not, but I like to imagine it anyhow.) It falls on Thanksgiving day this year. Hard for me... good for her!

Thankful for the car in front of me at Starbucks this morning who payed for my drink!

Thankful that diet cherry 7-UP is back on the shelves for the holiday season.

Thankful that Olivia decided, after two and a half years, to start wearing jeans again. She looks so dang cute.

Thankful that I got to have left over Chick-fil-A for lunch today.

Thankful that Glee is on tonight.

Thankful that American Girl sent us ANOTHER catalogue yesterday (right after I posted) so we can get rid of the other worn one. (Oh, wait, I'm not really thankful for that...)

Thankful for the IRONY of AG sending another catalogue the same day I posted about their devilish catalogues- because that is just hilarious!!

Thankful today for big and little things. How about you?

What to count when sheep don't work?

Last night I woke up at 2:30 and could NOT fall back to sleep. I'm not a super great sleeper to begin with. But then I found I had a lot on my mind.

Dumb stuff, really. But stuff nonetheless. I tossed. I turned. I seriously counted sheep. But I found that my sheep were on a conveyor belt (true story) and were passing too quickly for me to count. I tried imagining them jumping off the conveyor belt... but I couldn't get them off. I sense I have bigger issues than insomnia!

One of the things I worried about was the fact that Thanksgiving is NEXT WEEK. Hello. The surgery and being in bed and barfing and stuff like that kinda allowed that fact to sneak up on me. And there are plenty of holiday details that have fallen through the cracks. Because, let's face it, husbands are great for raking leaves, plunging toilets and getting oil changes, but holidays would no longer be celebrated if women suddenly vanished. I spent nearly 45 minutes on what would happen if the kennel was already full. (Our kennel is incredibly popular and we've been shut out a few times in the past!)

Another chunk of time was spent fretting over what to do for the actual dinner. We are going up to my dad's and now that he is in a small one bedroom apartment, there isn't heaps of room for cooking a turkey dinner; or even catering one in. And who wants to plan and orchastrate a meal in someone else's kitchen anyway? Our plan is to make a reservation at a nice nearby hotel that has a lovely buffet. But I forgot to call and make reservations yesterday. So at 3:30 am, I was convinced all reservations were gobbled (I hear your groans at my bad pun from here, don't think I can't!) up. What then?

I could not let the opportunity to obsess over the Christmas holiday pass me by either.

You see, Olivia received an American Girl Doll catalogue in the mail about 2 weeks ago. I have never seen a girl love a magazine more. She pours over that thing like its going away (which it *might* the next time it leaves her clutches.) She is in LOVE with Felicity... who of course, is being retired after this Christmas. (Why a doll gets retired is beyond me. I guess to give well meaning parents sleepless nights. Stupid capitalism.) But I've already told her that she can't have one until she's six. Because you need to P.R.O.V.E. to me that you are responsible enough and love dolls enough before I spend one hundred bones on a doll.

But the thing is, she hasn't bugged me. She hasn't whined or pouted. She just looks at her pathetically worn catalogue. Night and Day. And it actually makes me want to get one for her. But then I remember the hundred bones. And then I reconsidered. And then I thought, "But they are going to RETIRE her favorite one." And then I slapped myself and said, "Get a hold of yourself, woman! She'll totally be in love with something else by the time she's six."

And then the clock turned 5:15.

And then I fell asleep. And then the alarm went off at 6:35. And then I cussed.

** And just so YOU can rest tonight: There was ONE more opening at the kennel. I took it! I was able to make a reservation for the time we wanted at the buffet. Whew! And no, I still don't know what to do about the doll, but I'll keep you posted.