A good weekend.

We had a nice, restful weekend 'round these parts.

A Festivus Miracle took place!
After complaining here about the kids' conspiracy to prevent us from napping, they both fell asleep on Saturday afternoon and our whole family enjoyed a lovely nap!
And they slept in until 8am on both Saturday and Sunday!
I might have to complain about a lot more things in my blog posts and see if I get equally lucky in return.

In addition to our sleeping, we did quite a bit of Wii dancing.

Enjoy this photo of the children--

But please ignore:
1) The blanket, shoes, toys, cords, computer, and books on the floor
2) The multiple cups and bowls hanging out on the end table
3) The aminals that are on the couch (They like to watch Derek dance)
4) The tree that sprouts from the back of my couch. (I never noticed how odd that looks until I saw this picture)
5) Derek's mismatched socks, and that his pants appear to be tucked into his undies


The boy's hair is in a bit of a disheveled phase.

Josh has got me on a very short leash as to how much further I can push the "growing out" time period.
He keeps threatening to get his hair cut while I'm away.

And is it just me, or do I sense a trend in the pictures I take of Alex these days?

The sass just comes shining through, doesn't it?


In other news, today was beautiful! I sat outside on the back porch reading while the kids ran around the yard. No jackets needed. I even slipped my socks and shoes off and pulled my pant legs up so I could feel the warmth of the sun on my bare legs.
Then Josh walked out onto the porch and said "Erin, you know I love you and think you are beautiful. But those are the whitest legs I have ever seen."

Beware fellow cruisers.
Make sure you bring sunglasses rated for UVA/UVB and EWL protection. (EWL: Erin's White Legs)
They're blinding.

Josh wasn't feeling well today so we laid low. I'm in my last-ditch efforts to remain healthy despite many colds going around these parts.
I really don't want to be stuffed up and have my tastebuds rendered useless on the cruise.
The eating is half the fun after all.
Possibly even three-quarters of the fun.


ps The talk about Derek's hair reminds me of when he had his mohawk. He was such a squooshy sweet baby back then!

And it is past my bedtime, so I bid you goodnight, and hope you have a lovely Monday.

Friday Facts

Derek still wants us to sing "Zaccheus was a Wee Little Man" to him every time he lays down for a nap or for bedtime.
He's been on this kick ever since we moved here to North Carolina.
We've been here for 7 months.
That means we have sung that song over 400 times.

I am sick of that song.

Also, we've been here for 7 months. And I still don't feel like it's home. It's a slow process for me, and usually involves needing at least one season to repeat itself before a new assignment beings to feel like home.I think it will start to feel that way when we're spending our summer afternoons at the pool.

Wait. We've been here for 7 months? I think I need to make a dentist appointment.

I'm looking forward to planting a garden in the backyard this spring. I've never done that before, and we have a couple of raised garden beds out back.

Also: Does anyone know how to plant a garden?

I don't.
Maybe a helpful website?

Alex continues to break out into song randomly. Her song of choice is still "It's Raining Men." We've been laughed at by a few store clerks and I'm wondering if I should send a note to school to let her teachers know that it's all the Wii's fault.

Josh has been flying nights this week, so one day he was able to go to school and have lunch with Alex. He's done this probably a dozen times now. The other kids are starting to get to know him, and he always comes home with some interesting stories.
I had asked him to let Alex's teacher know that I wont be picking her up on Thursdays anymore, because hallelujah! Thursdays have been redeemed!
Turns out that Alex had already let her know that she was "going to dance on Saturdays now because the costumes for the Saturday class are much prettier."
Makes me wonder what other kinds of things children report to their kindergarten teachers. They probably know a lot more about my family that I assume.

Cruise 2011 Countdown: 6 days until I fly away, 7 until I set sail.

I took a spin class yesterday evening, and spun extra hard thinking about the bathing suit I must wear.
But then after I got home, I was really hungry and may have eaten for the rest of the night.

I can't rightly say.

Wednesday Hodgepodge

This week I'm doing the Wednesday Hodgepodge on Wednesday.
Will wonders never cease?
If you'd like to join in, hop on over to Joyce's blog...

Here are this week's questions:

1. Will you watch the Super Bowl? If so who will you root for? If you are outside the USA what is the 'big deal sporting event' in your own country?

Well.
As luck would have it, I will indeed be out of the country during the Superbowl. The "big deal sporting event" in my temporary country (aka cruise ship) will be seeing how many buffets I can hit in one day.
In between the visits to the restaurants.

So, no. I will not be watching the Superbowl this year. I have a feeling that all of the sports bars on the ship might be a little crowded during the game.

I do consider myself a football fan, and if I were home I would certainly watch.

I would root for the Packers, if for no other reason than their quarterback has not been twice accused of sexual assault.
Big Ben: You, sir, are no gentleman.

Not to be confused with Rhett Butler, who was also declared with those words to be no gentleman.
But that's entirely different.
Ahh, Rhett.

Also not a gentleman (but in a bad, non-Rhett way)-- Antonio Cromartie of the Jets. Have you seen his attempt to name all of his children?

Click here.
For shame, Antonio.

2. Is ignorance bliss?

It depends.
As I'm wiping the crumbs from my mouth, did you just tell me that the peice of cake I ate had 10,000 calories?
Then yes, ignorance would have been bliss.

Did you let me chat away all night with a piece of green food stuck in between my front teeth?
Ignorance= not bliss. 

3. Which of the seven dwarfs are you? (and just in case your Disney is a little bit rusty, here they are-Bashful, Doc, Dopey, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, and Sneezy)

I can assure you, my Disney is not rusty! ;)
Definitely Sleepy. If left alone, I could easily sleep 12 hours a night.
And then take a nap in the afternoon.

Before we had kids, Josh and I would sleep in until 9 or 10 on Saturday and then still manage to take a 3 hour nap in the afternoon.
The good 'ol days. 

Now anything past 7:30 is considered sleeping in, and my kids are locked into a conspiracy to keep us from ever napping again.

 4. When you are riding in the car with another couple how do you organize the seating? (Men up front? Women up front? Couples sit together?)

I can't remember the last time I rode in a car with another couple. You see, we have these 2 kids.
And they never leave us alone.
So if another couple wanted to ride with us, we'd probably have them crawl through the back of the minivan, into the third row. That way they wouldn't have to scale the middle row which is full of carseats, kids' meal toys, and enough stray pretzels to keep you alive if you were stranded in the van for, say, 3 years.

5. What is beauty?

Beauty is something that doesn't last and isn't as important as you thought it was in high school.

Proverbs 31:3-
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

6. If someone asks you to bring an appetizer or a dessert to a party in their home, which would you choose?

Well, if someone was inviting me to a party at their home, then they are probably a friend of mine. And my friends know me well enough to just request that I bring drinks or paper products.
Or maybe cash.
It's hard to mess that up.

7. What is your crowd pleasing go-to appetizer?

Let's just call a spade a spade. There is nothing I make that would please a crowd.

8. Insert your own random thought here.

I own a pair of boots that I once saw being thrown away on the show What not to Wear.
I wore them to church last week. 

Tangents

I was chatting with friends the other day at a playdate...

Tangent #1, Playdates: Moms getting together under the premise of supervising social interaction between their children. Truth--We don't really care about the social interaction, we just want them to leave us alone for a few blessed minutes.
Play quietly.
But not too quietly, because then we'll have to go check on them.

It begs the question-- is the playdate more for mom or child?
That mental battle plays out when you're in the midst of a juicy conversation and your child brings you a book they would like you to read to them.

Oh, the indecision.

Am I going to be the parent who will stop chatting and read to my child at their play date?

Nay.
Nay, I am not.
I am the parent that says: "Mommy's talking with the ladies right now, we can read this later."
Then I take the book and hide it behind the broccoli, where I know the child will never find it again. 

...and we were discussing the internet. A friend mentioned that she tries not to put detailed information on Facebook about when they will be out of town, so as not to encourage a would-be burglar to rob their home...

 
Tangent #2, We're leaving town: Not too long after I return from my cruise (How's that for an attempt at being vague?), we're going to take a short trip that will include a night's stay at the Great Wolf Lodge. It's a hotel with an indoor waterpark. Are we super fun people or what?


Tangent #2 part B, Or what: We're really more homebodies and prefer to lounge around the house on weekends. We're making an effort to get out and do a little more this year during the time that Josh is home. Because when he's gone? Well, I have a rule about attempting family fun with only one parent: Don't.

Tangent #2 part C, I could probably just put our exact address right here on the blog along with the dates that we will be away. Because if somebody came to plunder, they would die trying to lift and carry our 500 pound dinosaur of a television.

...I nodded my agreement, saying that I probably need to be more careful about putting too much information on my blog. Then another friend...

Tangent #3, Preggo: This friend is about to have a baby.
Like, any day now.
I love it when other people have babies! They are so tiny and sweet and snuggly and not mine. Which makes me a little sad, but mostly relieved.
I loved the snuggles and the nursing.
But the part that nobody talks about before you get pregnant is the part I don't miss.
It seems that adequate distribution of the following information would prevent a lot of teen pregnancies:

You have to hose yourself off with a water bottle after you pee.
And wear underwear that look like fishnet stockings with a pad the size of a diaper inside of them. 

Sleep comes in 20 minute increments.

Nighttime sweating. 

Hormone rollercoaster.

Sore nipples.

Sore...nether-regions.

Hemmorhoids.

This tangent is getting out of hand.
But teens-- don't have sex.

...laughed at me and said "You think that's what you put on your blog that's too much?"

Tangent #4, Erin lacks a filter:
I had to laugh with her. She has a point. 
In light of my recent nipple episode, my infamous naked-cookie-dough-eating incident, my not-too-infrequent mentionings of marital relations and even the occasional personal cycle information, the point is actually quite valid.

When I type up a blog, I think a fundamental failure on my part is that I'm not really thinking about who might be reading it.

Tangent #4, part b: My blog-friend Taylor likes to remind me from time to time that my dad reads my blog.
Silly Taylor, just because you like to hide obvious facts from your parents doesn't mean we all have to.

Attention Taylor's parents: Your daughter has had sex at least 4 times!
I know this because she has four children.
Do you know what else we can derive from the fact that she has four children?
She is a glutton for punishment.
Holla, Taylor. Happy Tuesday to you.


See? Tangents make everything more fun, don't you think?

A Story of Redemption

redeem: verb
To recover ownership of by paying a specified sum.
To restore the honor, worth, or reputation of

I love the concept of redemption.
Most importantly as it relates to my personal faith in Jesus. He paid the penalty for my sins on the cross, and by the simple act of accepting that gift, I have been redeemed.
I have been restored to the righteousness that God intended for His creation to have before man decided to try it his own way.
I've been bought with a price, I'm incredibly grateful, and the joy that I feel when I contemplate it can't really be expressed with words.

I'd highly recommend it. You should try it out yourself. It's free for you and me.

(Also free-- my amazon gift card! Thanks for using my link! You guys rock.)

And now I'm going to tell you another story about redemption.
This one is much, much, much less important, but I'm telling you anyway.

Remember how Thursdays hate me? And how each Thursday kept getting worse and worse so that if you saw me on a Thursday you were seeing me on the worst Thursday of my life?
Well.
My Thursdays have been redeemed.

For the low price of $20.75.

Amen and hallelujah.

You see, Alex's dance class was the catalyst for sending a normal weekday into a downward spiral. It just did not fit well into our afternoon schedule and caused problems from about 1pm until bedtime. All for one hour of dance.

And so we have redeemed Thursday by moving Alex to a Saturday class. The recital costume for Saturday's class was $10.75 more than the one I had already paid for. Then there was another $10 cancellation charge on the other costume.

Worth it?
Yes.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes and yes.
20 and three quarters times yes. 

And there you have my much less important story of redemption.


 In other news, Alex has been doing a lot of Wii dancing. She drives me a little batty choosing the same song over and over again (I Want You Back by The Jackson 5), but it's still quite amusing to watch.
Recently she's been branching out to more and more songs.
And singing them too.

Today as we were driving in the car she starts belting out "It's raining men, hallelujah it's raining men..."
From the lips of a 5-year-old, it strikes me as amusing.

Other things of note:
1) Josh made it home safely!

Hooray for an upcoming weekend with two parents to share the duties love.
2) Two weeks! Two weeks! I will be sailing away!
3) Reference guide for my husband: 2 days of school, 1 PTA meeting, 1 school song performance, 1 dance class, 2-3 baths, and more meals that I want to count.
Thanks and good luck!

 Did I mention good luck?

Wednesday Hodgepodge: Thursday Edition

Ack! I meant to participate in Joyce's Wednesday Hodgepodge yesterday, and totally forgot.

(Two points to anyone who can define the term Ack!)

So I'm just going to throw rule-abiding to the wind and do it on Thursday.
I'm so scandalous.

The Nitty-Gritty: Joyce reveals the Wednesday questions, anyone who wishes to can link up and answer them. I know it's complicated, and if you don't understand the process, it's okay. Sometimes these things take time.

1) Do you like your name? Were you named after someone? If you have children how did you settle on their names? My name is fine, I suppose. I was not named after anyone, and I'm just glad that I got the name I did and not the alternative they were considering, which was Camie Kendall.
(Yes, with that ridiculous spelling for Cammie, because my sister's name is Corie and my mom wanted to spell it the same way.)
Camie Kendall is just a little too...cutesy for me.

We didn't have any trouble naming Alex. Josh and I both liked the name.
Derek spent his first night in the hospital without a name because we had that much trouble deciding on a boy name.
Josh wanted to use his grandfather's name for a middle name, and I agreed that we could if his first name was after my father.
I think Harold Gerald has a nice ring to it, don't you?

Derek Joshua it is.

2. How do you define success?
Hmmmm.  
 I think I would consider something a success if it's achievement has an eternal significance. 


And that concludes this episode of Deep Thoughts by Erin Schore

3. Wheel of Fortune or Jeopardy?
Both!
I like to feel smarter than the people on WoF, because sometimes they just seem so blind. Can't you see it? It's so obvious!
Maybe they are literally blinded by Vanna's be-dazzled gowns, which renders them unable to solve the puzzle.

Ahh, but Jeopardy. Did you know that on four different occasions this very week in my whole existence I have known the Final Jeopardy question??
Oh, how that validated the 16 years I spent in formal education. 


4. If you could own any single object that you don't now have, what would that object be?
Well, I could think of any number of things.
But instead of owning any new objects, I would rather un-own our house in Idaho.
Because, you see, we don't live there anymore.
And that renders the home useless to us.
Except for that dang mortgage that they keep expecting us to pay. The nerve!

5. What is something that inspires you?
Well, it is an active process that involves the contraction of my intercostal muscles as well as those of my diaphragm. Expiration typically follows inspiration.

Sorry to be so literal, but I met my deep thought quota at question #2.

6. Meatloaf-yay or nay? If its a yay how do you make yours?
In our almost ten years of marriage, I've made meatloaf only once. You see, my husband has a strong aversion to ketchup.
Is meatloaf without ketchup really meatloaf at all?
Maybe I'll try to find a recipe that does not call for ketchup and try again.
Once a decade should be about right.

7. Which is more admirable-the ability to organize and be methodical or the ability to adapt and make do?
I think I admire those with the ability to be organized and methodical because I do not have those qualities. When we adapt and make-do, we do it out of necessity. Being organized shows self-discipline, and may even preclude the need to adapt.

Example: I start a load of laundry, but do not finish it. It remains half-dry in the drier. The shirt I planned to wear to church was in that load.
It is Sunday morning. I am rushing. I go to grab the shirt and realize that it is not wearable. I must adapt by choosing a new shirt, but this shirt needs a different color bra. I change bras. I can no longer wear the pants that went well with shirt choice #1, so I grab the pants that match shirt choice #2. But alas, the button has fallen off of those pants and I set them aside to sew it back on but didn't get around to it. Back to the closet.
Tick-tock-tick-tock.
This gives me less time to help get the kids ready, so I am grouchy when they don't move quickly enough to suit me. Then I give my husband a dirty look for eating breakfast. We don't have time for breakfast!
We leave in a frazzled hurry and my closet looks like a tornado swept through it.
Get in the car and look happy people! It's time to worship!

It might have all been different had I been organized and methodical, and dried and folded the clothes.

(Naturally this is just an example, and nothing like that would ever happen at my house. Ahem.)


8. Insert your own random thought here

Derek received a set of Toy Story dominoes for Christmas. The kids like to play the game, and have even played it together without parental supervision. Hallelujah, it's a Christmas miracle.
Instead of the traditional dots, the dominoes have all of the Toy Story characters on it.
Even though I am close to being 32 years old, it is confirmed that my maturity level is still at the junior-high level because I chuckle every time I hear my son yell:
"I've got a Woody!"

Random enough?

Free Money

Well, not really.
But if you regularly make purchases at Amazon.com, it's kind of like free money.

This website below is like a knock-off Groupon, called Living Social, and today's offer is for a $20 Amazon gift card for $10.
So I bought one.

If you decide to buy one, consider using the link below, because if three people buy one through my link, I get my gift card for free.
I like free.

https://livingsocial.com/deals/21336?ref=conf-jp&rpi=3865938


But if you're upset with me for blogging about my nipple and threatening to behead my children when I'm on the phone and don't want to use my link, I understand.
I'd probably feel the same way.

In other news...

This just in...

Breaking now...

Live from the Maple'hood...

Alex has her first loose tooth!

Anticlimactic?

Sorry.

But it's a big deal for me!

 Josh, if you're out there somewhere in the blogosphere, our baby is growing up!

Get back here fast and put a stop to it!!

Raising children is not for the weak

We've had a nice, low-key weekend around here.
With Josh away and the rain coming down, I couldn't think of one good reason to leave the house today.
So we didn't.

I began to regret that decision around 5:45, when the rugrats started to get a little stir-crazy. I just went with it and let them bounce off the walls until they got all of the energy out.
I am always surprised at how loud 2 children can be.

And so are the people who call me on the telephone.
They think they're interrupting some kind of children's party or playdate.
Nope.
It's just that those two little boogers intensify their noise level upon hearing the phone ring. I'm not even sure they're aware of it.
It's some sort of subconscious act.

Or maybe they do know.
Maybe they find my antics amusing-- when I'm trying to silently give them the look. The one that screams, BE QUIET OR ELSE.
Once, by accident, I caught a glimpse of that look in the mirror.
It was like evil incarnate. I can't imagine why it doesn't work.

Then I find myself frantically miming to them what will happen if they don't leave me alone and go play quietly.
They look at me with a blank stare, as if they have no idea what I mean.
I mean, isn't the finger slicing across the throat a universal signal?

ha. kidding.

And then there are the times that the phone call is really important and I have to close the door to my bedroom, but they act as if they don't understand why, and begin to beat on it. So then I have to go inside my closet and close that door. And put my finger in my exposed ear. And wonder why I'm 31 years old and hiding in my closet.

Ahem.

Where was I?
Oh yes, our quiet weekend.

In keeping with my resolution to enjoy my children this year, I found that they actually made that quite easy to do this weekend.

Don't worry, it's not as if I didn't like them for the last 5 years.
It's just that there have been times when I have, let's see how to phrase this...affectionately tolerated them, because they stood in between me and whatever it was I was trying to accomplish at that moment.

I'm trying to change my outlook. They are what I'm trying to accomplish each day. Training them, loving them, feeding them, teaching them phone etiquette.
Then feeding them some more.
And again.
Until every dish and utensil in my house is dirty because they are insatiable.

Rats. I lost my train of thought again.
Oh yes, the kids were enjoyable this weekend.

For the most part, they got along well together. We read lots of books and sang and danced and just had a merry 'ol time.

And do you know what else?

They look even sweeter in pictures :)

Because you can't hear them.




Know what else?

I love 'em to pieces.

Strange

Strange (and completely meaningless) things are happening to me. And I'm going to tell you about them.
Even though I probably shouldn't.

But before I do, I will show you this not-very-great picture of Alex's new haircut, so that Daddy can see it.
And also because once you read about the strange things, you probably will not stick around to see a picture.

Sorry, I should have taken a photo earlier in the day when her hair actually looked decent. It's not the best haircut in the world, but at least we came to an agreement on the length.
When we left the house today, she wanted it to be ear-level.
After the haircut, I found her checking herself out in the mirror, and she said "I don't even look like Alex anymore."

Side note: If you look in the background on Alex's bed (also interchangeable with the word zoo) you will see that no less than two stuffed animals sleep next to her pillow in a white bowl.

Many moons ago, Alex had a stomach virus and was puking like a drunkard.
Hence, the bowl was by her side should she ever figure out before she vomited that she was, indeed, going to vomit.
(That never happened.)
But I had faith that one day she might figure it out, and so in the days after her illness, the bowl kept it's place next to the pillow, just in case.
Then when I decided that it could safely be moved back to the kitchen, so that guests may be served out of it (never eat here), I found it inhabited by some furry creatures that refuse to be evicted.
So there.

Oh, and she's also very aggressive with her chapstick application, if you were wondering about her glossy lips.

And now.

Strange thing number 1:

Randomly, while making normal arm movements this evening, my left armpit...well, um...it...well, it farted.

Sorry, I don't know how else to say it.

I remember the boys in elementary school making their armpits fart on purpose by sticking their hands in their shirts and making a chicken-dance-type move.
I was secretly jealous.
I'd sneak home into my room and try for myself.
I could never make it happen.
And now, out of the blue, while readjusting my position on the couch with my friend the laptop, it just happened.
Without the use of my hand, mind you.

For the next 15 minutes or so, I would occasionally repeat the motion, with the same juicy-sounding results.
Then I tried the right arm.
No luck.

Then I started reading some article on Google news and forgot about my armpit.
Then I remembered.
So I tried again.
And as quickly as it had come to me, my new-found skill had slipped away.

In case you were wondering, I've also never been able to burp on command.

I feel closer to you all tonight.
And so I'm going to share one more thing--

Strange thing number 2:

You know how I enjoy elastic waistbands, right?
Right.
Because I don't like to be held in by anything restrictive.
Like denim.

Well that feeling extends to brazier wear as well.
As soon as I'm fairly confident that I will not be receiving any visitors, or heck, even when it's still a possibility, I toss that bra away as fast as I can.

And that is the position I was in last night.
Now that I have set the stage, here is a public service announcement for you:


When you're all cozy on the couch, slouching down with your elastic waistband pants and wearing no bra, and your laptop is laying across your midsection, and you go to shut your laptop for the night...and you shut it with authority, no less, it would behoove you to make sure that your right nipple is not in the way of your authoritative closing.
Because if it were, you may yelp out loud similar to the time that your nursing son bit you and you scared him so badly that he went on a nursing strike.

Not that anything like that happened to me, of course.
I could just see the potential of the occurrence and I wanted to look out for you guys.
Because I like you.

And you read about armpits and nipples and still come back again.

Right?

Right?


Oh.

Well, goodbye forever then.

Friday Five

1) Derek has woken up 3-4 times a night for the last three nights.

Fact: He is not an infant, so this is discouraging.

However, he does have an ear infection.
I took him to the doctor on Wednesday and was given some drops for his ears. Two days later, he's still on Motrin and Tylenol around the clock with bursts of sobbing about his ear in between.
So we went back this morning.
And got some oral antibiotics.
And I'm hoping that does the trick, because I would love to sleep all night.

2) Proof of Floppians. And that her hair has some static electricity issues.

Alex has been begging for a haircut, so we have an appointment tomorrow. She wants her hair to be just like Snow White's, but I don't think I'm ready for that big of a change.
Besides, she looks so cute in her ballet clothes with a bun on top. And since she's not exactly...um...talented in the dancing aspect of ballet, she should at least look the part, no?

Also, is there any non-dancing aspect of ballet?

3) This dang chocolate Santa has been sitting on my counter for two and a half weeks.

It belongs to my husband. It's a Christmas tradition that the kids in his family get chocolate Santas from a particular Michigan chocolate-making place.
Chocolateir?
Chocolate factory?
I don't know.
The only thing I do know is that I spell chocolate wrong every time I type it, and I'm glad that the little red spell-check line keeps me from looking a fool.

(Chocolate spelled wrong, Chocolate spelled wrong, Looking like a fool with your chocolate spelled wrong.)

Sorry. It just wont die.

Anywho. Josh left the house about an hour ago for his first trip of the year.
Good news-- he's breaking me in slowing with just a short jaunt into another hemisphere.
From the time he takes off out of Raleigh (commercial flight) until he lands at his final destination will be 22 hours.
That sounds like pure misery to me.
And he left wearing shorts. (Current temperature outside: 39 degrees)
That's all the information I can divulge on the interweb.

But I simply cannot tolerate that chocolate Santa staring at me any longer. It's totally unfair that he has self control and will power and must be saving his stupid Santa for a special occasion.
And so I assure you that it will not be here upon his return.
Because I am a loving mother and enjoy giving my children good gifts, because I ate my chocolate Santa the day it was given to me, because I finished off that tub of icing yesterday and I have to wear a swimsuit in 3 weeks, and because her brother is allergic to chocolate, I will bequeath Joshua B. Schore's Chocolate Santa to one Alexandra Kate Schore.

And I will relish doing it.
*evil cackle*

That will certainly teach him the consequences of self control.

4) Tonight I have big plans for a girls' night.

Me and my best girl will be snuggling up on the couch to watch The Sound of Music together. We will be pushing the envelope. She may even stay up until eight forty-five!
You are all welcome to join us.
Just bring your own chocolate Santa.

5) I'm hungry now.
So I'm going to go and eat.

Brrrrr.

I'm cold and my house is a mess.

I'm pretty sure the best choice I can make at this moment is to sit down and blog.
After all, the mess will still be there, but my laptop gets really hot on the bottom left side, so I'll just keep moving it around my lap and taking what warmth I can get.

You see, our house has a heat pump, which is designed for the typically mild North Carolina climate.
Well this winter has not been mild.
The poor little heat pump runs around the clock trying to keep it warm enough.
It works mostly, though sweatshirts and thick socks are a must.
December was one of the coldest months on record for this area, and the talk around the neighborhood has been "How much was your heating bill?''

Care to guess?




Ours was $269.
Ouch.

Good news-- when I play Just Dance on the Wii, I get warm enough to start taking off some layers.
Bad news-- I'm a terrible dancer, and the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

The last three days, Alex's school has been canceled twice and had one 2-hour delay.
Total snow accumulation: 0.00 inches
Is there such a thing as been too cautions?
I submit that there is.

In the school's defense, yesterday was a legitimate cancellation due to ice.
And heck, I'll take any opportunity to turn that alarm clock off and wake naturally to the slowing rising sun groggily to my insistent son.

At least I didn't have to go through the morning battle with Alex:

Me: You have to eat something before you go to school.
Alex: But I'm not hungry.
Me: You will be.
Alex: But I'm not now.
Me: Take a bite.
Alex: *takes bite*
two mintues go by
Me: Take another bite.
Alex: *Points to a bite already inside her mouth.*
Me: Is that the same bite as before?
Alex: *nodding*
Me: CHEW IT
Alex: You didn't say I had to chew it before.
Me: *deep sigh*

Tonight is Awanas, which the kids love, but when I'm loading them in the car at 6:20 I can't help but think to myself-- If we just stayed home, I could put them to bed in 25 minutes.
Am I just the cheeriest person you've ever met or what?
But go we shall.

This past week, Alex learned all of the books of the New Testament.
I even learned something too-- there is a new book called Floppians. At least, there is according to Alex. It comes right in between Ephesians and Colossians.
I'm hoping that the teacher doesn't correct her, because it's really quite cute.

My nose is cold.

I think I might need to go dance.

Or clean.
I should probably clean.

Or maybe I'll just sit here on the couch and balance my laptop on my nose.
All viable options.

Fuzzy Math & Potty Breaks

Good news! I used some fuzzy math in my last post about the upcoming cruise.

It's actually more like four weeks from now than three, and in honor of that I've been eating icing by the spoonfuls out of the fridge.
I can worry about losing 5-pounds-in-three-weeks starting next week.

I always make perfect sense, don't I?

Today after church we stopped in at The Walmarts because I needed a thing or two, and it's on the way home.
(Does anyone else feel the need to make excuses for why they went to The Walmarts, or is it just me?)

Anyway, Derek was in rare form. He was hungry and tired and being a general cranky-pants. He didn't want to ride in the cart, and he didn't want to walk. So Daddy offered to carry him.
Alex and I start walking off, and when I turned to tell Josh the things that we needed to grab, he was not with me.
Nope.
He was still just inside the busy doorway...sinking slowly to his knees.

I've never seen my husband crawl in public, until today.
Turns out that Derek accidentally kicked him in the testicular area.

I'm not sure I'll ever understand those mysterious man parts.
I don't think there is any area on my body that you could kick hard enough to make me get on the ground in The Walmarts.

Don't worry, Josh is recovering well.

Speaking of man parts-- this just in: As I was typing, I heard Derek crying out from bed. He's been asleep for hours now, but he'll occasionally wake up because he needs a tissue, or his blankets have fallen off, or because he's lost one of those dang aminals.
However, he knows that if he wakes us up because he can't find an aminal, then he will not get his morning show. I refuse to get up at all hours of the night for so silly a reason.
So now he's getting crafty. He'll push his blankets off, call me in and say "I need my blankies. And I can't find Ellie." or "I need a tissue. Where's Doggie?"
Grrrrrr.
But this time it was legitimate. I just went in to check on him and the conversation went like this:
Me: What's wrong buddy?
Derek: Mama my penis just needs to go potty.

Oh.
So I took his penis potty.
The good news is that he's been dry at night for over a month now, so I guess that's one more milestone we've passed.
No more buying pull-ups and diapers at all anymore!
It makes me happy and sad all at the same time.

And now that I've talked about testicles and penises, I realize that it is 11:30pm and the alarms will be going off early, so I must retire.
I'm sure you're all thankful for that, lest I move onto some other obscure anatomy lesson.

Goodnight!

Saturday Morning Nonsense

The title of may last post was Pointless Drivel.
I wonder how many of you were thinking, "and how does that differentiate this post from all the others?"
Because, well, it's pretty much all pointless drivel.

But that's okay!
Right?

Right?

Right.

Question-- Why does my Saturday morning begin at the discretion of the youngest member of our family? What happened to seniority? I'm ten times his age, and yet when he starts calling out "I'm not sweepy anymore" then I can kiss my bed goodbye.
It doesn't seem quite right.

Little known fact-- I can play a little guitar. (Key word, little)
I haven't played in years, because the urchins took over my life.
My grandfather has been downsizing and wanted me to have one of his guitars, a nice acoustic. My dad brought it down with him when he came, and so I've been playing a little and trying to build up some callouses on my fingertips.
It's kind of like the first few days of breastfeeding. You have to suck it up (pardon the pun) and let that kid eat before you get accustomed to it and it's not painful anymore.

Keep reading my blog in the future for more nipple toughening comparisons.

Three weeks from now I will be lounging eating on a cruise ship.
Ahhhhhhhh.

Wait a minute.
That means three weeks from now I'm supposed to don a bathing suit.

Stop the presses!
Oh the whiteness.
Oh the hairiness.
Oh the chubbiness.

I need a plan.
Step 1) Locate a razor that's up to the task. Begin to use it.
Step 2) Find sunglasses. Wear them on the ship so that the white glare from my legs doesn't cause blindness.
Step 3) Lose 5 pounds in three weeks.

Alex mentioned yesterday that Jason in her class "got sick at school and threw up RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALLWAY, MOM!"
I think my best bet at losing 5 lbs in 3 weeks would be to go to Jason's house and share utensils with him.

But my puke-phobia won't allow it.
I'll have to come up with a plan B.
Maybe something like watching what I eat.


We should have chosen an Alaskan cruise.

Pointless Drivel

I came to a realization this morning as the alarm went off at 6:45am--

The moment of each day that I am forced to remove my body from it's warm and comfy nighttime nest feels like the worst moment of my life.

I suppose I must have a pretty good life if the worst thing that happens to me is being forced to wake up. However, it also means that the worst thing that can happen to me happens to me every day.


It's a conundrum.

And now, in no particular order, I will present to you some random facts, accompanied by a picture.

1) Josh left for work 14 hours and 45 minutes ago. I'm starting to wonder if he plans to come home at all today.

Or if he has a girlfriend I don't know about.
I don't think so.
If he did, he probably wouldn't be trying to get in my pants so much.

Did I just say that?

What I meant to say was, I wish the Air Force paid overtime.

2) Derek has found a new way to carry his "aminals" around the house.
This is good, because it frees up his hands.

It's also a little disconcerting.

3) Sometimes I wonder about this girl.

But I love her anyway.

4) I want to try a longer hair style on Derek. So I need to let it grow out a little then have it reshaped like I want it.

We're in the rough stage of shagginess.

5) We dog-sat for Amelia for a couple of nights. She was quite mellow and well-behaved.
Though I still have no desire to own a dog, I did appreciate 2 days of a crumb-free existence.

6) I love him.

7) Peepaw's are good at any number of things, to include painting fingernails.

8) If you need to laugh so hard that you almost pee your pants, have Peepaw play Just Dance on the Wii.

The Wii was a family gift bought with Christmas money.
I am a terrible dancer, but now I can start my list of things to become awesome at.
And I have something to do with my evenings, since I seem to not have a husband.

9) Here's a photo any wife and mother would be proud of.

Right?

10) On New Year's Eve, we went to the nearby Mount Olive's 12th Annual Pickle Drop.
Pat the Bunny delighted in terrifying the children by making them approach Mr. Pickle.

We had been to the pickle drop with PtB when we were stationed here while Josh learned to fly the F-15E.
They put a green lighted pickle on top of a flag pole and have a countdown.
It happens at 7pm.
It's kind of strange.
Twice is enough, and we wont be going back.

12) When we got all that snow right after Christmas, we made a big snowman right next to the road.

He was a victim of a hit-and-run.

How rude.

13) Daddy and his mini-me.

I like 'em both.

14) That's about all I've got for you.
I've been neglecting this little 'ol blog of mine. But in my defense we've had company for the last 22 days.
My dad is leaving in the morning, and the kids are going to have to go through grandparent detox.

It might be ugly for a little while.

Resolve

Getting up this morning at 6:45 felt very foreign after our long Christmas break.
And bad.
It felt very, very bad.

I heart sleep.

We got our new year started with one very feverish, pukey boy in the house. It seems we have acquired a target on our backs for stomach bugs this season. Thankfully it seems to have passed quickly.
Here's hoping it doesn't spread! So far, so good.

I haven't done any resolution-ing yet.
I can't look ahead at this year of 2011 without thinking about how often Josh will be gone, and I'd rather bury my head in the sand.

I did the math.
Approximately 190 days of this year, I will be without my main squeeze. That's 52% of the year.

And those are my optimistic, glass is half-full, numbers.
If I wanted to be pessimistic, I would also include the first 90 days of 2012 in my calculations, because he will be gone then as well.
But I wont.
One year at a time, no?

At first I was thinking that a resolution of survival might be in order.
But then I thought more about it and decided that I should resolve to do more than survive. After all, that's half a year of my children's lives that I can't get back. I should make the most of it and enjoy them. Even when I'm the only one to give baths.
And put them to bed.
And make their breakfast.
And lunch.
And dinner.
And wipe bottoms.
And...
You get the drift.

So this year I do believe I will resolve to enjoy my time with Alex and Derek, making the most of this year in which they will turn 6 and 4, and let my husband know that it's okay for him to go do his job, because things are going to be just fine here at home.

Look at that, I've done some resolution-ing after all!

And soon I will be back with a sign-up sheet for you all to chip-in and help me out in 2011.
Start thinking now about the areas in which you would like to help:

-Pity
-Availability for Venting
-Freezer Patrol (to keep me from overstocking ice cream)
-Frequent blog commenting (I'll need the adult interaction)
-More pity

I think that about covers it. I'll send that out once the long trips get closer.

;)

Happy Monday!

1-1-11

I haven't blogged in almost a week.
Like most unsavory things, the blame for that lies squarely at the feet of Pat the Bunny, who arrived last Tuesday.

You see, I wasn't able to find my way to the computer because it was hidden under all of the toys she brought with her.
Many moons ago, PtB gave me her word that she would not go overboard on Christmas gifts this year. She verbally agreed to limit herself to buying 2 presents each for the children.

All I can say is:
Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire.

Next time I'm getting it in writing.
PtB showed up with two suitcases. They were 90% full of what we call, Christmas: Part Deux. 
That left her very little space for what I would refer to as necessities.
You know, like clothes.

I think her plan was just to do laundry every day while wearing an outfit fashioned out of paper towel.

I can't be sure exactly how she pulled it off because I was busy sleeping in.
We have an understanding of sorts. I allow her the dubious privilege of visiting with her grandmonsters, and she lets me sleep in until hours unheard of among the ranks of mothers of small children.

She actually enjoys getting up with the kids, and get this-- playing with them.
Yes, I said playing.

Oh wait. I'm supposed to enjoy that too? I may need to re-read the mothering manual.

Moving on.

On Wednesday, the whole gang went to see Tangled at the movie theater.
Well, except for me.
I went shopping alone.
It's one of my love languages.

Each evening after the mini-humans were put to bed, Pat the Bunny and I settled in at the kitchen table and got down to business.
We're gamers. Didn't you know?
We take our cribbage very seriously.
She also brought me a new game-- Banana Hammock.
Wait, that's not right.
I mean Bananagrams.
It's a word game.
And I would like to humbly tell you all, that I dominated her all day.
Every day.

(Humility is one of my best qualities.)

Our cribbage tournament ended in a tie, so I feel no further need to discuss it. 

Pat the Bunny is leaving today. We bid her a fond fare-thee-well, and I will check the days off the calendar until her next visit.
What? Is that weird?
I just really like sleeping in.

Really, really like it.

The Christmas decorations have been put away, school/work/dance/Awanas/Terrible-Thursdays/real world starts on Monday. Same time, same place, new year.

I love to read other people's new year resolution posts, so as soon as I can steal some of their ideas, I'll be back to post my own.

Oh, and if you'd thought we were done having company for awhile, you'd be wrong! My dad is the next in line to endure the boring-ness that is our daily lives.
He should be pulling into town late tomorrow. The kids may never recover once they have to go back to entertaining themselves.

Hope you all had a great 2010, and wishing you an even better year to come!

Signed,
Bananagrams Champion of 2010