Mom to the Screaming Masses

Boo!

Here's to lots of the good candy, very little of the undesireable, no belly aches, crying or complaining.

What's your favorite candy to receive in your pumpkin?

The Christmas Picture Rife with Possibility

42 pictures, 6 poses, 12 hissy fits, one kid who refused to look intelligent (and he knows I said this about him), and this is what will be this year.

It's as good as it's gonna get, I'm thinking.

Stupidity

I finished work last week, and moved my car to the pick up line, as is my usual M.O.  I usually try to squeeze in an hour of computer stuff before school dismisses, but this day, I was really tired.  It'd been a trying day, one that started poorly due in part to a lack of sleep from the night before.  I'd fought off waves of sleepiness all day, and after I parked my van I decided to kick back and relax for a minute.

The front of my van has two captains' chairs, which is typical, and a center console, which isn't standard. My husband had it installed when we bought the van and we installed a DVD player inside.  The console is the same height as the seats.  I reclined my seat back as far as I could and tipped the steering wheel up.  I put the sun shade in the windshield, cracked the windows, made a pillow out of my sweatshirt and decided to nap for ten minutes.  I knew that the church bells would ring, as they do every fifteen minutes and I'd wake then.  Ten minutes was all I'd do, I decided.  Then I'd go to work on my computer stuff.

Except that I could NOT get comfortable.

Overboard

I've seen the movie Overboard at least one hundred times, and it never grows old.  Whenever I'm spinning through the channels, if I happen to see it I stop and watch. I don't know why I like this movie so much - the acting isn't very good, the plot is formulaic and the basic premise is really dumb, but it makes me smile all the same.

Some of my favorite lines include  I'm living in a nightmare that starts at the crack of dawn.

I'm a short, fat slut.

I earn the money - that's my grown up responsibility!

I can't do any of these vile things and I wouldn't want to! (speaking on housework)

I love it when she picks up the entire table cloth full of dishes, drops it in the sink and hits it with a hose. 

There's plenty of opportunity to see this film - I think it must be one of the MOST played movies ever.

What is your guilty pleasure movie, the one you watch any time you flip past it?

Making Life (Or At Least Mealtime) Easier, Volume Nine

I love Sunday.  That is, if it's done right.

Sunday is a day for me to prep for the upcoming week, mostly.  To clip my younger kids nails and wash their hair, look over the uniforms for the week and be certain the belts/socks/shorts/yadda yadda are all present and accounted for.  I will usually try to pre cook some meat, plan out the menus for the next five days, make some muffins or cookies, clean up around the house - return the shoes and such to their rightful locations. (OH - and watch FOOTBALL!!!!!)

You know, boring stuff, but necessary.  I usually make sure that at least one of those recipes listed utilizes the crockpot - maybe on Monday night, which happens to be the second craziest night of the week.  The worst night?  That honor goes to Wednesday.  That day is typically a 14 hour struggle that goes on forEVAH.  Because Monday is crazy, I like to plan for dessert for my kids, something they can look forward to - and who in the hell am I kidding, I look forward to it as well!  This crockpot dessert is one of my very favorites, and it is perfect for this time of year. 

I love pumpkin anything, pretty much - muffins, cookies, pie most of all. This easy dessert is pie without the crust.

Can We Keep Him?

Or, in my kids case, it would be, "Can we GET him?"

The Parent Bloggers asked us to write about our family pets.  From the site: 

Tell us about your pets - the ones you had as a child, and the ones you have now. Are you a cat person or a dog person? How about birds, fish, or hamsters? Any exotic pets in the family? Or are you pet-free and loving it?

This week, we’re helping Burger King get the word out about their latest line of Club BK toys - iDogs! These iDog toys light up and come with a costume and sticker sheet, but they’ll only be at Burger King through November 2. They don’t bite, don’t shed, and don’t need to be walked. Sounds like the perfect starter pet to us!

I can't write about pets, because we have NONE.  We are pet free and lovin' it.  At least the adults in the house are lovin' it - the kids, not so much.  Take this letter than I found on my bed one day a few years ago.....

Dear Mom (and Mrs. Masses)
We would love to have a dog.  We promise to keep him out of your way, to wash him and bathe him, to clean him and feed him.  We will even pick up his poo and walk him.  You will never know that he is around, we promise.  We really mean it this time!  All of us in the neighborhood will help.  Please believe us this time.  We will not let him bark and bother you.  We will let you sleep and we will do all of the work.  Please?  Please?  Please?
Signed by all of my kids and four others from the neighborhood

No matter how cute the letter was - and it was, I saved it - no matter how much they bargained, begged or promised, the answer was, and always will be NO.

I do not want a pet.  Had one as a kid, and have no desire to ever own another.  They can keep trying to wear me down.  I'll never give in.

This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network as part of a sweepstakes sponsored by Burger King Corp. Write a post and enter - you could win $250 to start your family on the road to pet ownership!

Nine Years Ago

I was the most pregnant that I ever would be in my life.

My due date with my fourth child was October 10.  When I had my 36 week checkup, I was found to be 4 cms dilated and 100% effaced.  "Oh, my!" gasped the doctor.  "Go home, pack your bags.  Be ready to go at any minute - your baby is ready to FALL OUT.  Number four will certainly come fast (for number three had been induced early due to pregnancy issues and the entire labor was about 5 hours), so get ready!"

At 37 weeks, I heard the same tale. 

At 38 weeks, lather, rinse, repeat.

Same for 39 weeks, and 40, and 41.  Finally, after three weeks of elaborate "techniques" to "help" my body jump start the labor - to which my body merely replied "zzzzzz...." - after hour upon hour of monitoring, piles of herbal concoctions, a dinner of eggplant parmigana, miles of walking and hours of God only knows what else - I was sent to the hospital to be induced.  The baby was predicted to weigh over 9 pounds, certainly closer to ten. I worried how I'd get through what promised to be a very difficult labor - especially when he presented in a posterior position and I had vowed to deliver unmedicated.

Some Good Things Happen...

Every once in a while.

No, seriously.

To begin with, a very gorgeous and loyal reader who comments here, KG, sent me a very generous gift certificate to Sephora. For no reason, she said, just because, she said.  To say that I was blown away at her magnanimity is an understatement.  You are amazing!  I've been especially tight with money for the past two months - my hubby's business is completely dependent upon a good economy and people just don't want to spend money right now, so this gift was really appreciated.

Another good thing:  ANOTHER kind and wonderful reader took it upon himself to copy the picture of me and five of my kids in Battery Park and lighten it and remove the red eye.  I'd have done those things my ownself, except that I do not own a copy of Photoshop or any other associated photography computer program.  (Photoshop is on my birthday list, as well as these Dansko Clogs size 39 - if anyone is doing early shopping - hahaha, I KILL myself.)  So, now I have a great copy of the picture. Thanks!

My mother sent me today's Guidepost reading - she thought it was particularly relevant to me.

"Take time for yourself. Go to a movie, have your nails done, take a
class, go to the library and read magazines. Be good to yourself and
then you'll be able to be good to your family, your boss and all the
people who depend on you....we humans were not created to spend every
waking moment in the service of others. We are not meant to just be
someone's servant, husband, mother, caretaker, or employee twenty-four
hours a day, seven days a week. We are meant to belong to ourselves and
God and then become absolutely the best person God intended when He
breathed life into us. Only then can we be good for others." Patricia
Lorenz

My husband has folded every piece of laundry for a week, and done the dishes for three days.

I took pictures of my kids for Christmas cards and, mercifully, got THREE that look half way decent AND I killed NO ONE.

I was contacted to do two GREAT giveaways in the next two weeks.  Keep checking in here - and, hey, how come no one has entered the Snapfish giveaway over at Zwaggle?

And, finally, four of my children are going away with my mother for THREE DAYS.  I'd be a big, fat liar if I wasn't way excited.  To do what, you may ask?  SLEEP.  And sleep some more. 

Pinch me now.  It's too good to last.

Breakfast - The Meal of Champions

If you could have anything for breakfast, anything at all that you wanted without fear of gaining weight, raising your cholesterol, or - let's be honest - having to COOK said meal, what would it be? 

Belgian waffles, light and crispy with soft centers, piled high with sweetened strawberries or blueberries and fluffy whipped cream?  ME.

Eggs Benedict, covered in sunny yellow, buttery rich Hollandaise sauce. with a side of asparagus tips?  ME for the eggs, but no meat and no asparagus. 

Bacon, crisped exactly so, with browned buttered toast and fluffy scrambled eggs?  Oh, yeah, baybee.

French toast, gleaming golden brown, with real maple syrup filling in the cracks of the bread and running down the sides?  Eh, not so much.  Finally, a dish I can avoid.

Now, what DID you really have?

Oatmeal, with almonds and dried cranberries.  Cold.  Coffee. 

I like my thoughts better than the reality.

A Trip the The Barbershop

When I was a kid, I went to the barbershop with my dad a bunch of times.   When we first moved into the house that I grew up in, the road was very small - just one lane each way, with a service road.  There was a white building and it had a barbershop.  I don't remember much about it, except for the fact that there was also a small store, and my dad bought me and my sisters Twinkies.  Once they were stale - and I still ate them.  I RARELY got a Twinkie - I was clearly a deprived child - and you better BELIEVE that I savored every forbidden bite.

Sorry, Dad.  I think I just busted you.

I thought about these trips this past week when I took Gabriel to the barbershop.  I would rather take him there than a SuperCuts type place.  I don't know why I prefer the barbershop - it's a male dominated place, and I'm ALWAYS the only woman there. The toys in the corner are old and the magazines ancient copies of Car and Driver and Sports Illustrated. Nothing is new, no up to date gizmos or gadgets, just a bare bones business.  The posters illustrate 1970's hair fashions.  The old men who are there - because it's always a business populated by old men - sit in the chair and stare forward, which puts me right in the line of vision.  It's strange and I don't know that I ever feel less like I belong in a place. 

In an odd way, though, I feel as if I'm signing my son up for the camaraderie of being Male.  How bizarre is that?  Going to a barbershop versus a salon doesn't make him MORE of a man.  It's just a haircut. 

The rituals of male versus female are fascinating to me.  Why the barbershop - why not the hardware store or the grocery store or the beach?

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Hey, new post up over at Zwaggle, where there is another giveaway going on!