What does this mean?

My three-year-old-perma-princess just said: "Hey Momma, lets be baaad girllls."

How am I suppose to take that?

Whew...

Were you sick and tired of that pregnancy post? I was...

But not much else has been happening in our life lately. I am still sick (in fact, I threw up in a dirty public toilet yesterday), the kids are still 7, 5 and 3 years old and life just keeps on rolling along for our family.

It is hard to believe but at one time in their lives my parents had three kids with a fourth on the way--then five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten children. When I was in Maine last fall my sisters and I found this old family photo. There were only (only--what a silly word to preface the size of my family with!) eight (see?) children at the time. Here we are:

pretty awesome--huh?

It's All About Me!

*********
Do you know what I am?

In trouble with the law? --No.
Enrolled in classes at the local community college? --No.
In the mood for a milk shake and some fries? --Maybe.
Totally awesome in every way? --Yes, but that is off topic. OK, stop guessing. Really, you’re terrible at this.

I am pregnant—that is what I am. And it stinks. I am not a nice pregnant lady. I am mean and cranky, cross and complaining, ornery and disagreeable even. Believe me when I say: I am not a nice pregnant lady. If you see me coming over the next 7 months grab any women and children with in your reach and run for the hills. Because when pregnant I am continually ready to unleash the worst in myself all over the nearest living creature. (In a pinch, I’ll unhinge on a lamp post or a sink full of dishes.) Check out clerks exchange nervous looks with their baggers when they see my expanding mid section pull into their lane. Perfect strangers offer to take my children into their protective custody when they see the surly looks I manage to radiate at all times. It is not pretty. I do not like being pregnant, not one single bit and I am not afraid to let dear friends or the homeless guy downtown know it at the slightest provocation.

Friends: “How are you?”
Me: “My tummy aches, I have heart burn, I am constipated, I cannot sleep and I have this weird taste in my mouth that no amount of brushing or swishing will free me from! How are you?”

Homeless Stranger: “Spare change for a wounded vet?’
Me: “My tummy aches, I have heart burn, I am constipated, I cannot sleep and I have this weird taste in my mouth that no amount of brushing or swishing will free me from! If I had any spare change I’d buy a gumball in hopes of chewing the taste away!”

See what I mean?

You can well imagine the scene in my bathroom when I saw the positive sign come up on the pregnancy test I had just peed on. Let’s just say I unleashed a highly justified string of expletives that shall not be repeated here. I still cannot believe it—and I’ve known for a while now. In an attempt to shield the innocent from my peevish self I’ve been keeping the whole “I’m pregnant” thing under wraps. My husband, however, cannot wait to tell the world—and we’ve told the kids so keeping the secret is a little pointless now.

Try not to worry your pretty little heads; I think I found the Silver Lining.

I have found one joy in this pregnancy, one ray of sunshine, one bit of happiness (so far). I call my little bit of light: The Excuse. I find that saying to myself, my husband and my children “I am pregnant.” opens up all kinds of bad behavior doors for me. For example, just this afternoon, while at the grocery store grabbing a few essentials I got a whiff of the fresh baked bread. You know the nutrition-less, white, fluffy stuff every grocery store bakery makes in large quantities and sells with garlic butter. Yes, that heavenly manna. Of course, I grabbed a loaf and headed home. More over, for my supper, I downed almost the whole loaf with ½ a stick of butter. “I am pregnant.” Three nights ago at 9:55 pm I decided the only food that would not make me throw up was some Indian Chicken Korma with Nan and a Coke. “I’m pregnant.” My husband was on the phone to all the Indian restaurants with in a 10 mile radius to find some. Every morning, after I get the kids fed, dressed and off to school instead of working out, doing the dishes or even taking a shower—I go back to bed. “I’m pregnant.”

Let me finish this post up. Really, if it were up to me I’d keep this whole thing a secret for another 6 or 7 months. Unfortunately, “The Excuse” is going to make my physical self expose the secret long before my vocal self will. I can feel my butt growing as I sit and type. So, the next time we meet—hold on to your hat because I am going to have A LOT of complaining to do and you are going to be surprised at how round and full of carbohydrates I look.

Try not to laugh out loud.

Not feeling my usual self...

A big apology to the three people who read this blog and who have stopped reading because of the lack of new posts. We have not been feeling well lately. Right about the end of February I was prematurely patting myself on the back with motherly pride in the fact that I had ushered three children and a husband through flu season successfully. Did you catch the "prematurely" part of that sentence? Flu season is a spiteful and mean creature who does not like to be denied her victims. So for the last several weeks we've been sporting the pukes, coughs and runny noses like they are going out of style. Every time I turn around another kid is clutching his/her stomach with a piteous "Mom, I don't feel very good." thrown in for good measure.

I wont say we are out of the woods yet--surely one of my children will be up tonight with something sickly--but it has been about 8 days since I had to hold someones hair out of their face while they hurled into a bucket. I'll take my happiness where I can get it.

To quickly catch you up on our little happenings:

The girls had a "Chic Fashion Show and Dance Party" in the living room and our back patio. Lorien's fashion poses are a hoot! Clare trying to mimic Lorien is funny enough to make me snort when I laugh.

Will and Wyatt continue to wrestle at tournaments in the area...and they continue to be awesome. At the last tournament Will was the oldest wrestler and Wyatt was the youngest. They both took first place in their weight classes/age groups.

We noticed the Easter holiday. The kids got the usual baskets of candy and we had our nearest relations over for dinner and a plastic egg hunt. The girls wore matching dresses to church and we enjoyed a quiet Family Home Evening discussing the real meaning of Easter.

********************

And some where between the snot and puke Will and I passed our 9 year anniversary.

Hey Babe,

I love you--heaps and piles and loads. Thanks for loving me even though I buy stuff I don't want or need from door-to-door salesmen. You are the greatest guy I know and I am so happy we are in this together.

I love you.

A Birthday to Remember...

Clare is a very lucky girl. She got to celebrate her birthday three times this year--because she is three. First up we spent Clare's actual birthday at Disneyland. Despite being sick the night before Clare had a great time riding around Disneyland in the stroller and checking out the rides from the safety of her fathers lap. You will never believe how many pictures I took! Z-E-R-O! That's right...we spent 8 hours at Disneyland having the time of our lives and I did not take a single picture!!! All because I couldn't remember where I packed the camera. Oh well, we all had a great day and our mental memories will have to suffice. Oh, Clare got a button with her name on it as part of her birthday celebration package. Every time we passed a Disney employee s/he would say "Happy Birthday Clare!" It made me feel special...

Celebration #2 was at Cheesecake Factory with my Aunt Colleen and Uncle Richard. They were very kind and let us stay at their house (a few miles from Disneyland) while we were in Southern California. We all went out to dinner before our family had to hit the road for home. At the end of the meal Daddy whispered to Clare "Eat three more bites and you'll get a very special surprise." Clare looked at Daddy with her happy blue eyes and said "It will be my 'Happy Birthday Cake'!" We got home from Disneyland too late on her actual birthday to have cake and she was ready for us to sing. With her three bites down and a slice of flame-topped-chocolate cake in front of her Clare smiled as we all sang "Happy Birthday too You!"

The final celebration was scheduled for Sunday March 29th. We planned to have our near by relatives over for sandwiches, cake, ice cream and presents. So much for "planned"... Wyatt and Lorien ended up getting the pukes the day before the party and we had to cancel. We still managed to party as best we could with two sick kids.

We started the party with each family member going around and saying what they love about Clare. This is something we do for Family Home Evening every so often. All of the kids love it, whether they are getting or giving the love.

**********************

Then the kids decorated crowns and we played Pin the Crown on the Princess, The Princess and the Pea,

**********

and Hot Miss Marie (all so known as Hot Potato--we didn't have a potato)

Check out Clare's expression in this picture--I love it! She really got a kick out of playing "Hot Miss Marie".

We finished the party up with the standard cake, ice cream and presents. Clare had a blast and we had a blast celebrating three times. We all love this girl!

**********************************************Guess what she got for her birthday?

Obsessed...

Did you have leprechauns show up at your house last night? We've never had a problem with leprechauns. Every March 17th we wake up to white milk, clear toilet water and a house only as messy as it was when we went to sleep. This year, thanks to an optional home work assignment, my kids became obsessed with catching a leprechaun. All weekend we built our traps. Lorien made a pretend piggy bank with a trap door. Wyatt and Clare took an idea from the Family Fun magazine and built a leprechaun sized rock wall with gold at the top. Lorien took her trap to school on Monday and we kept the other at home. Monday night we tucked the kids in bed leaving them to their happy dreams of all the loot they'd get from the leprechauns we caught. Saint Patrick's Day dawned and Wyatt woke first to discover our toilet water had been turned green. Running into his sister's room he rallied the girls to march into the kitchen to check their traps. Wonder of wonders we did catch a leprechaun! But the tricky fellow figured out how to get out of our trap before the kids woke up. As a reward for their cleverness he left a pile of gold candy, a box of Lucky Charms and turned our milk green. Wyatt is already planning next years trap. Lorien, however, feels kind of guilty. Our leprechaun climed the trap only to find the gold glued down. He left a note explaining the circumstances of the night and his frustration at not getting our gold. Lorien thinks next year we should leave some gold unglued for the leprechaun to take home.

**********************************

Wyatt's First Wrestling Tournament...

Today, Wyatt went with the Woodside Westling Club to its first Tournament of the season. You might not be surprised to learn Wyatt wrestled in the lightest weight class but I think it will surprise you to learn the other kids in his "weight class" out weighed him by more than 10 pounds. He was also the youngest wrestler in there--needless to say--he was facing an up-hill battle. Wyatt wrestled three times today. In his first two matches he was pitted against the two biggest kids in his weight class--bummer! Wyatt tried his hardest and had a good time but he lost both matches kind of quickly. His third match was against a kid who was a little smaller than the others and they wrestled all three rounds. The other wrestler won but Wyatt did his best and we were all very proud. It was hard for me to see him disappointed. Will was very proud of how hard Wyatt tried. Wyatt never gave up and kept on giving it his all with every match. I think Wyatt gained some valuable experience and hope he will have as much fun at his next tournament.

************

Because Will takes Wyatt along to the high school tournaments Wyatt knows many of the coaches from the other teams in the Bay Area. Wyatt had a huge cheering section and received many pats on the back and high fives from his fans. It was great to see so many people routing for my little guy.

***************************

Oh--my super sexy husband wrestled and coached at this tournament. Check out the pictures and try not to pinch his butt next time you see him.

**************************************

My Favorite...

I consider spring in California my personal reward for living through so many springs in New England. Everett, Massachusetts has an especially unpleasant and frustrating spring. Usually, the snow begins to melt and the sun comes out for one afternoon--then Mother Nature yanks the carpet out from under your feet dumping 7 inches of sleet and freezing rain all over the place. The sun will show up for a day or two followed by a week of more cold, sloppy precipitation. This little back-and-forth in the weather department starts in March and last until July. No wonder Massachusetts has such a terrible (and in my opinion, deserved) reputation regarding its drivers. You'd drive like a crazy person too if you had to deal with a fickle spring every year.

We've been living in California for over four years now and I can say with authority March and April are my favorite months. The rain from winter starts to lessen and we get beautiful sunny days. The same rain has done its work turning everything bright green. Trees start to bud, grass grows thick and daffodils poke up from the ground--really it is lovely. We took a walk around "The Dish" on Sunday taking our time to soak in the green from the views all around. If you were ever wondering when would be the best time to visit us--my vote is March (or April).

Don't do it..

Just don't. Don't have children. Because even after they out grow that whole wake-up-every-two-hours-to-eat thing they are still ticking time bombs. Waiting until you've settled into a false sense of security in the sleep department and then BAM! They come up sick and are awake half the night coughing, crying and throwing up--and you are awake too--worrying, wondering and praying that this too shall pass. So, save yourself the trouble and just don't have kids. OK?

These were my exact thoughts as I stood at my kitchen counter in my underwear at 3:28 this morning--smashing a cough drop with the bottom of a jelly jar.

Why was I powdering a perfectly good cough drop with a breakfast spread container, you ask? Because:

A) My almost-three-year-old has a terrible cough.

B) Her delicate palate cannot handle a full cough drop--or half a cough drop--or even a cough drop crumb.

C) The only thing that will quiet her cough is little sprinkles of cough drop powder lightly dusted on her tongue.

And D) I find a full jar of jelly to be the best smasher in the business--naturally.

Now, when you are standing in your kitchen, in your unmentionables, crushing cough drops at record speed because your youngest child is a gagger, sitting on your newly washed bed spread and if you don't get her cough some droppage soon she is going to up-chuck all over the place it is only natural to wonder a little bit why you are in this particular situation.

"Kids." was my immediate answer.

If any single person or newly wed without children happened to ask me for advice on having children...I would have recited my opening paragraph without hesitation. Rest assured, we all know that the odds of a single or newly wed person standing in the kitchen with me at 3:28 this morning (while I was not dressed for company) are about as good as the odds of me winning a gold medal in the 100 meter dash. So my little anti-children speech did not effect any one's posterity.

As the warm yellow sun spread its beautiful glow over our sleeping house this morning (and I decided that getting to school on time was waaaay over rated) I could more clearly reflect on my situation I knew how much I truly love my (sleeping) children. In addition, it was only the ridiculous hour of the morning that pushed my mind to its anti-child limits. Kids are wonderful creatures and if they aren't keeping you up because they are new babies, sick toddlers, scared children or curfew breaking teenagers enjoy your sleep--it wont last long.

WARNING...

THIS POST CONTAINS IMAGES AND INFORMATION THAT MAY BE UNSUITABLE/OFFENSIVE FOR THOSE WHO APPRECIATE WEEDS GROWING IN THEIR GARDEN!

We have been getting quite a lot of rain here in Northern California. The latest batch of rain came pouring out of the sky on a serious mission: to turn every grassy surface in our back yard into squishy, soggy soup. Mission completion rain, mission completion...

On Tuesday, Wyatt went outside (in the pouring rain) on a mission of his own: to rid his strawberry bed of weeds. When I went out to check on him this is what I heard: "Argh, I must destroy you! These weeds are bad! They are my enemies and I can't defeat them. You will not kill my strawberries! I must do something... get right out of there weeds--swwwish--killed them!" This little verbal battle between Wyatt and the weeds lasted a good 15 minutes before Wyatt was soaking wet and every weed from the strawberry bed had been eradicated. Way to go Buddy.

***********************************

***********************************The victorious warrior and the carnage he left behind.