This morning, I went into the downstairs bathroom. I noticed that the floor was pretty dirty, and made a mental note to scrub it tonight. I left the room, and as things go lately, promptly forgot about it.
Fast forward six hours. Emma had a dirty dipe, so I took it, shook it out, and flushed. All appeared normal. I put the dipe in the pail, and went to wash dishes. About two minutes into the dishes, I heard water. Man,it's really raining outside. I looked up, through the window, and saw that it had stopped raining. Someone must have gone into the bathroom and washed up, and left the faucet running. I went to check, and was slapped in the ankles with a flood. As I sloshed through, I saw the water pouring out of the top of the toilet. I had no idea a toilet held that much water - it ran past my laundry room, ankle deep, and it was still coming. Quickly, I turned off the emergency valve - thank God I knew where that was! It took eight beach towels, the bath mat, and the Hoover scrub/vac to get it cleaned up. The repair, I left for the hubster. I've done enough for one day.
Boy. I survived. It was touch and go there for a while, but I made it through a 600+ mile car trip with 6 kids and the hubster, 5 days with his daughters and their 4 kids, and then the trip back.
Let me start at the beginning, with the memories. We left at 9 p.m. Sunday night, with the intention of driving until 1 or so and getting a room, in order to break up the trip. 14 hours is a looooong trip, and we thought if we did it in two parts it would be easier. This is a big admission from a man who thinks no one should ever ever stop - no one needs to pee, and eating should happen after the drive is finished! The hubster is a big fan of Vivarin when driving, so he popped one at 10:30. We turned the movie off - thank GOD for DVD players! - and the kids went to sleep. At 11:30, he decided to take another Vivarin, since the first wasn't really doing any good. 12 year old son was really upset that Dad had taken a second one - after all, he had read the label to his dad and it clearly said no more than one every 4 hours. After a small argument, oldest son went back to sleep. At 12:30, hubster decided that since he was awake, another vivarin would only help out. 3 in three hours. Bing!!! His eyes were open, and they couldn't close no matter what. At 2:30, I finally convinced him to stop for the night, since I couldn't sleep in the front seat. We got in the room, and he could.not.sleep. As in, his eyes were wide open. At 4:30, he woke me. "Can we leave now?" "NO! go back to sleep." At 5:30. At 6:30. At 7:00, I finally agreed to get up and get back on the road. The rest of the trip passed uneventfully, despite the fact that hubster had not slept at all.
When we got to our destination, we unpacked into a room, a nice room, only to change to the second floor, about two minutes after everything was put away. Repack, and move up a floor in a hotel with no elevators. At the time we had all ten kids with us. Dinner, bath and bed and the first day was finished! One down, four to go.
The second day the hubster took all the kids, minus the two babies, to the theme park, leaving me in blissful, almost silence! We took a two hour nap and then ate lunch at Red Lobster. Emma was a delightful lunch companion. She ate the broccoli, carrots and applesauce, leaving the chicken strips, except to dip them in ketchup and suck it off. Weird kid. :) We went to the bookstore, rearranged all the child care books (hiding the Ezzo books and the What to expect, putting the good books in the front!) and spent $100. Back to the room, and Emma was amazed by the vending machine. She watched me put a dollar in for a soda, and her eyes were huge when the bottle popped out. Wow! Looking through her eyes, I guess it would be amazing.
My girlfriend came to visit, and it was great to have adult time with another mom. The hubster took her older daughter to the theme park the next day, so we were able to have time with just her youngest and my two. I really needed some adult time.
The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful, just a couple of arguments. Stress isn't a good traveling companion, and the hubster and I don't do stress well. I had the help of some Zoloft, but dh had nothing. And he's not used to being with us all the time. We are enough to convince anyone to use birth control. And use it liberally.
The trip back was a disaster. We left at 1, with the intention of driving straight through. All was well, until about 6 hours from home, when we noticed some far off lightning. No big deal, we thought. That quickly became the worst storm I have ever seen. We were both scared out of our minds, but we pressed on. The lightning was so bright, it lit up the entire road, and then you were momentarily blinded when it passed. The road we were on had no street lights, so it was doubly dark. Truckers were pulled over on the side of the road, cars hydroplaning all over. The rain was so heavy that we couldn't see to the end of the van. It stormed all the way home. I don't think I was ever so glad to see my house!
Anyway, that was the incredibly boring account of our trip. I'm glad to be back, and glad it's over.
We've had a stack of broken stuff laying on the counter in the kitchen for, oh, six or so months. At first it was just a small refrigerator magnet. Then, a small brown ceramic unicorn. A ceramic elephant ring holder, painted for me in wildly variegated shades of green by my four year old soon joined the pile. A candy dish, painted by my 9 year old. It's a combination of children who love to go to ceramics class with Nana, and clutzy children and mom. I've been waiting for hubster to glue them, and finally went and got some SuperGlue and did it myself.
Man, is that stuff smelly, and messy. The ring holder and the ceramic unicorn, as well as the magnet, went well. I glued the candy dish together, and managed to glue it to a napkin. Ok, no big deal. Then I realized that one of my fingers was stuck to another. No big deal - I'll just pull.....Oh, ow ow ow!!!! Duh. It says on the back of the pack NOT to do that. Nail polish remover works well though, and the reason I know that little tidbit comes from an encounter the hubster had with SuperGlue.
He wears a bridge in his mouth, thanks to an encounter he had with a fire hydrant when he was ten. It's his front upper four teeth. He was in the process of having a new bridge made, and was wearing a temporary one. It was hitting his lower teeth and bugging the crap out of him, so he was trying to bend it up a bit, because it was acrylic, and should be flexible, right??? He was pushing on it, and it popped right out of his mouth. Greeaaat. He's got to work in about, oh 4 hours - he's a night owl - and he has no front teeth. While the bridge was out, he had the bright idea to try to bend it up, just a smidge, so that when he put it back in, it would be more comfortable. Snap. Now he was dealing with two sections of the bridge, not one. It broke right down the middle.
He grabbed the SuperGlue, applied it to the sections, and popped it up to his gums. then he realized that his fingers were glued to the bridge, and then glued into his mouth. How he ever did this, I'll never know, but he tried many many different things to get the glue off. Finally, in desperation, he soaked a q-tip in polish remover and swabbed around in his mouth, until his fingers came loose.
Moral of this story - leave the SuperGluing to the experts.
So, yesterday I had a screaming match with the hubster. Yup, a big, nasty fight, brought about by stupidity, lack of sleep, and upset tummies. His and mine - we've got a bug here. I went to bed hurt, angry and upset. So I think it's only fitting that, in the spirit of all this, that I share with you the story of how we met, got engaged and married. To kind of help me remember why I married him, doncha know.
I met him four days after my 19th birthday. I had joined, or should I say, rejoined the church, and was taking part in the youth group. We were standing outside the church selling donuts, to raise money for something or another, and he was standing outside selling raffle tickets for the choir to go to Rome. (Talk about Jesus driving the money changers out, eh?) He asked me to buy a ticket, and I made some kind of comment about him buying donuts, and I'd buy a raffle ticket. He bought, and I didn't. The youth group was going to dinner and one of the ladies invited him - she said he was cute. Yeah, he was, but I was dating someone.
So, we all went to dinner, and he and I caught eyes a few times, but nothing special. He asked, after we ate, if he could get everyone's number. The group was going to get together to make Christmas wreaths for the military, and he made a comment about wanting to call us if he decided to come. I went home, took off my bra, got into sweats and washed off my makeup. Brrring! It was him, calling to invite me to a movie. That night. As in, twenty minutes later. I told him I was dating someone, and his fateful question was "You aren't getting married, are you?" Well, no, so off to the movie I went. We saw Look Who's Talking. I was stunned to find out he was fifteen years my senior. After, we were going to get dinner, and he realized he had no money with him, so we went back to my place and I made spaghetti. The green can of parmesan cheese was clogged, so I (stupidly!) pounded it on the floor to unclog it. I got it unclogged, alright, all over the floor!
Four days later, we went out to dinner. The waiter brought my leftovers, wrapped in foil. Hubster asked me, "Aren't you going to open it?" Um, no, it's leftovers. I did, and was fall-to-the-floor surprised to see a diamond ring.
So, we met each other November 19, got engaged November 23, and married on December 16, all in the same year. To complete the memorable-ness (what a made up word!) of the year, I got my impacted wisdom teeth removed two days before the wedding. I was losing my free military healthcare, after all!
It will be fifteen years this December. No one EVER thought we'd make it this long, and, baring another knock down drag out like last night, I think we are in it for the long haul.
My husband is more religious than I am. In fact, he once made a pilgrimmage, to determine if he had a calling to the priesthood. There is a story that is well known in Italy that, if you are in favor with the Blessed Mother, she may give you a sign, and you would know it by the scent of roses. There are many stories of people smelling roses and learning something powerful about their life. My husband has had this happen to him - in fact, the strongest time was in Italy, when he got off the train. No one else smelled it but him. It really made an impression on him.
He bought me a rosary made from crushed rose petals, and brought it home to me. The scent was overwhelming, and I asked him to put it away - I didn't want it. He did, and let me know that he was disappointed that I didn't care for his gift.
A few days later, I vacuumed the living room. All of a sudden, I was overwhelmed by this POWERFUL odor of roses. "Oh, my God! I must be having a visitation! But I'm just vacuuming! I can't believe it!" I went running upstairs to tell my husband, and to try to ascertain just exactly why the Blessed Mother would be visiting a housewife cleaning, and how I was going to handle this. He looked at me as if I was nuts, and asked me to go back downstairs and show him what happened. He listened to me, saw what I had been doing, and reached over to the top of the TV, above my head. He pulled out......
The rose scented rosary. No visitations, just me and the Hoover.
Holy, Toledo, Batman. I am just so tired, too tired (almost) to be functional. Baby Riley is an absolute joy - cute, happy, playful. She sleeps wonderfully during the day - when she wakes, you have to go and check, because she will just lay in her crib and play. She sucks her thumb to self soothe. In short, she's truly a good baby (how I hate that phrase! As if there are any bad babies!) and I have been blessed.
She doesn't want to sleep at night lately, though. I must have jinxed myself, because three nights in a row she slept all night - from 10 p.m to between 6 and 8 in the morning. (Talk about balloon boobs!) The past three nights, it's been party all the time, party all the time, party all the tiiiiiime. (Remember that song?) She wants to nurse most of the night, and then pop off and talk, and do the snow angel thing laying right next to me. So, I can't even doze, because the arms and legs are going a mile a minute, and it's so damned cute that I can't even get mad at her. She gets this huge, I'm so glad to see you! grin on her face, and I can't help but smile back.
But, man, am I tired. This morning, it was 4 before she finally went down, and that was only because I just refused to nurse. She cried for about 3 minutes, and popped her thumb in and went to sleep, until 8. So, that tells me she was tired, and not hungry.
It's tough to be this tired when you have other kids at home. My fuse is short with them, and I have no energy to do the fun stuff - the games, the puzzles, even reading is a drag. I just want to sit and watch tv, and doze off. Instead, it's me and a triple shot from Starbucks, trying to make it through until 8 tonight.
Before I can talk about what a great neighborhood I live in now, I have to fill you in on the other places we have lived. When we had our first child, we lived in a condo association. Not bad, not great. No place to play, no small kids, so we moved. We bought a house in a nice neighborhood, and lived there for 7 years. By the time we moved, we had three more kids, and the neighborhood had gone downhill somewhat. There weren't many kids my kids ages, but mostly older kids, who had far too much freedom and too much unsupervised time. There were fights, thefts, and car vandalism.
So, we sold that house and moved up. A little too far up, as it turned out. We moved to an upscale neighborhood that my husband had desired to live it, since he had lived here. It was a beautiful house, very well built and maintained. It was elaborately landscaped, so we were a bit uncomfortable letting the kids play outside. Again, not many kids my kids ages. Mostly older people and high school students. Almost immediately after we moved into this house, one that cost us almost every penny of his salary, he was the recipient of a really sharp pay cut.
And we ended up selling the house and moving again. We have really hit the jackpot in this house. We've got a great, wide open backyard, with no trees and very little landscaping. We've filled it with soccer goals, a sandbox, a swing set, and a concrete patio with a basketball goal. We back up to a school, so no neighbors behind us. Best of all, there are a dozen kids in all age ranges. My kids can go out for hours, going from one house to another. One backyard to another. Our road is a loop that dead ends, so there is no thru traffic. The kids have space to ride their bikes and scooters, skateboards and skates.
Everyone is nice here. We had an impromptu party in our backyard last night. We grilled hot dogs and steaks, and had margaritas. A big volleyball game - parents against kids.
I told my husband that if he wants to move, he has to move by himself. I'm not going anywhere, for quite a while.
Your name of Carmen makes you very idealistic and generous, with the strong desire to uplift humanity leading you into situations where you can express your desire to serve others. You want to assume responsibilities and to look after people; however, you can become too involved in other people's problems and tend to worry. Your name gives you a natural desire to express along artistic and musical lines. You desire a settled home and family life, and are expressive and attentive to your loved ones.
So, last night, hubby and I took the family and went out to dinner. Nope, we weren't drunk, or under the influence of mind altering drugs. Nor were we looking for punishment. We were, however, the recepients of a very generous free dinner for all, courtesy of the owner of said restaurant, in thanksgiving for a great deal from the hubster on the financing of a car.
Our kids were no better or worse than usual. In fact, looking around the restaurant, it appears that our kids were shockingly normal. Every parent was participating in the same conversation:
"Sit down! Stop looking around. I don't care if you don't like beans - eat them anyway. Do you want a spanking?" Um, yeah, like some kid is going to say "Why, yes, thank you. I'd love a spanking!" "Listen to your mother. Wait for your dad - he'll take you to the bathroom. Stop flinging rice. That's how real Mexican food tastes. No, Taco Bell is not real Mexican food."
I think if we went sans kids, we wouldn't have a thing to say!
WANTED, Carmen, mom to the Masses, for dangerous undertakings inside and outside the home. Last seen with her partner The Hubster, and six accomplices (Nikolas, 15, Allegra, 13, Mackenzie 10, Gabriel 8, Emma 5 and Riley, 4). This fugitive is considered armed (with epi pens and inhalers) and dangerous, especially when she hasn't had her morning coffee. She is particularly difficult to recognize due to a recent 80 pound weight loss (size 18-20 down to 2-4!), and has been known to hide beneath large piles of laundry. She's a fan of running races and can be found reading, lifting weights, practicing capoeira or running to the store for milk. ( Read more here.)
