Oh yes, another smoking rant

Here's the thang, yo...I frickin smoke.

I know it's bad. I know that people die from cancer and heart problems and other crap that may or may not have been worsened by smoking. You probably know someone with some sort of anti-smoking story that you could tell me, but guess what? I don't want to hear it. I know someone, too. And anyone born after 1960 knows someone and can give me all the reasons cigarettes are bad for you.

One thing that isn't plastered all over cigarette boxes or coming out of the mouths of smoker-haters is the danger of living my life "smoke free".

WARNING: This is a rant and if you are reading this to be cheered up tonight, you may want to go here.

:::inhales deeply::: :::as in breathing, not smoking, get off my back:::
I don't need passive-aggressive comments about how I shouldn't smoke because it'll mean certain death (and won't I please think of my children?) because certain death is pretty much a certainty as far as I'm concerned and at this point in my life, smoking cigarettes is keeping me from driving over a cliff, which I may be wrong about but am quite sure is going to kill me faster than smoking and if you say anything else about it you are quite possibly putting both our lives at extreme risk or maybe just yours but then I'll go to jail and won't anyone think of the children????

Is this a little passive-aggressive? Absolutely. How do you fight passive-aggression, anyway, if not with it's own kind?

:::catches breath because that was a lot of things to say in a row for a smoker::: :::coughs::: :::lights a ciggy:::

Ahhh....thank you, I feel better.

PS: I have had the worst month of my life. Please don't give me advice, especially about quitting smoking. I'll quit. Just not right now. Thank you.

Bucket List

I haven't been around in awhile because I guess I took a little Christmas vacation that more like a Christmas nightmare of trying to get everything done while I was sick and the kids were sick and plans got blown out of the water every five minutes and frankly, I had nothing funny to say. At all.

I'm back, but still with nothing to say.

:::crickets:::

As great as Christmas was this year, I have made a holiday bucket list...holiday experiences I would like to have before I die.

1. Experience Thanksgiving as a man. Think about it...this has got to be the best day of the year for dudes. You don't have to go to work, you can sleep in, you sit on the couch and watch football until delicious food magically comes out of the kitchen, you eat it, you watch more football while the kitchen gets magically cleaned, then you eat some more, you nap, you watch some more football, then a week's worth of leftovers and and a three day weekend with the biggest games of the season playing the entire time.

This totally beats spending the entire week cooking, ruining dishes and making them over, experimenting and torturing yourself over new pies, making double of everything so you can taste it to make sure it's right without destroying the presentation, fighting with in laws over who is going to cook what, getting up in the wee hours of the morning to make sure that everything is done at the same time, then all that work being gobbled up in thirty minutes, and four hours of kitchen clean up afterward. Ladies, we are clearly doing something wrong.

2. Be a Yankee for a day. I'm not really "Southern", but I live in a state where southern manners prevail. You smile and say hi to people you don't know, you don't talk about uncomfortable issues, and you feed anything with a mouth that gets within ten feet of you. One more rule is to keep your darn mouth shut when someone makes you mad. And I would love....love...just one time, to say what's on my mind without thinking about it first. Just once. Or twice.

3. Spend one week at home. I look forward every year to Christmas break so that we can have some family time just relaxing out the house. It's never happened. Just for the record, I'm busy the last two weeks of December 2011.

4. Hold the remote control. That is all.

Sappy Kid Blog

I cleaned today.

A lot.

Like, from the time I woke up until...well...I'm writing now, but only because I'm waiting on the dryer. Which just made a noise so I'm sort of avoiding it.

I'm achy and bitchy and I can't wait to take my kids to their grandma's house tomorrow so I can sit down.

But, now thinking about them being gone for the next few days makes me miss them. Since I have complained so much this week, here are some sweet things that make me happy to be a mommy...

Emma is learning how to spell. It's adorable. Everywhere I look, I see little signs she's made for me that say "I <3 U Mommy". They are on every wall, on my bedroom door, on the bathroom cabinets, on the posts surrounding the wood stove, on the computer monitor and her sheets. Awwww....

I have a huge marker board in the hall that I filled with a huge list of things to do before Christmas. When I went to check it this evening, Dalton had drawn a heart with two people inside labeled "mommy" and "Dalton". Double awwww because he's a boy.

Every evening at dinner, we take turns saying one thing we are thankful for and one nice thing about the person next to us. Tonight, Emma said "I like mommy because, when I was in her tummy, I loved her so much and I remember that and it's not any different now because I love her still." OMGSHE'SSOCUTE.

When we got in the car this evening, a Christmas CD was playing (one that I am ready to break in half if I have to hear it again, by the way), and all six of them, including Huston who hates to sing, belted out "Blue Christmas", which, if you've never heard six kids singing Elvis, you're missing an important life moment.

My sister came home yesterday for Christmas, and we stopped by to say hi to her and her husband and son, and as we pulled in the drive, Warrick said "Mommy, I have this weird feeling in my throat...I think I might cry tears of joy."

Warrick is my oldest at ten, and he has been giving me a least three hugs a day. And he's a boy. Hugging his mom. On purpose. I don't know why, but one doesn't question these things.

Huston told me that, even thought I dress like a nineteen year old boy, I'm still kinda' pretty.

Madilynn organized her bedroom today, and I realized again what a little mini-me she is...she hates cleaning, but she will organize the heck out of anything.

One of my mothers in law (yes, I have two) asked the kids why they cared if my sister's new baby would be a boy or a girl, since it would be too young to matter. They were highly offended by the thought that a cousin was "too young" and made declarations all around about how "cool" their other baby cousins are and even went so far as to point out the personality differences in the many babies in our family. I heart this mucho, yo.

At dinner tonight, I asked them about the true meaning of Christmas. Madi stood up in her chair and said "It's about Baby Jesus and nothing else!!!"

All of my kids miss their dad like crazy and are so excited that they actually get to go see him this week. That is one thing I love about them...their capacity for complete forgiveness and forgetfulness of the things that have gone wrong.

Another thing is how hard they try not to let me know how excited they are because they think it will hurt my feelings. They also plan out my time away from them so I won't miss them as much. Once, Dalton even went through my contacts in my phone to find someone for me to hang out with.

So, yes, I complain and I get grouchy and angry, but I love being a mommy, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Child Labor

I have realized something about myself this week and I am not proud of it.

I am not in the Christmas spirit. At all.

This is absolutely against article #2 of my personal creed..."all people must begin Christmas Spiriting the day after Thanksgiving and carry it through until the day before Halloween. You may drop the Christmas Spirit long enough to complain about the tackiness of Halloween, and to be grouchy while you cook a bunch of stuff for Thanksgiving, but then you must bring it back right away."

So, where are you Christmas???

I think I'm a little out of sorts because I hate that I still have Things To Do. I don't like having those, unless they are Things I Want To Do. I don't enjoy doing Things Other People Want To Do, or Things I HAVE To Do.

So, no more plans, yo. I'm done. I will attend the Christmas dinners at both my grandparents' houses. I will go to mass on Christmas morning (not midnight mass this year, because starting something at midnight with six young children is just asking for a drop in Spirit). I will host the Party Of Awesomeness on Christmas night. And that is all, my friend, that is all.

If I feel like baking, I'll bake something. If I feel like looking at more lights or going to more parties or making more crafts or anything else that people do during December, I will. But if I feel like sitting on the couch and reading while my kids slave away on housework, that's what's going down, yo.

Today, I felt like detailing Ninja Truck. I love detailing my car, it's relaxing and I get to look at it and go "Wow, this is gonna' be clean for ten whole minutes!" So I got the kids' junk out of the truck and made them put it away...which took twenty minutes. Then, I spent five hours doing the rest of the work while they played next door. When it was time to leave, they all came out to the truck with arms full of Stuff They Had To Bring. I told them no way, I spent five hours cleaning the truck and they are never allowed to put anything into it again ever.

We went to pick up my mother in law to look at lights and the kids shouted "Guess what, Mimi!? We cleaned the truck for five hours!!!!" At which she cracked up, but for the wrong reason. The right reason would have been the understanding that my children have never done anything for five hours straight except maybe whine. She was laughing because my truck doesn't look clean at all, because of the whole "when you buy a used vehicle, the first time you detail it is more like figuring out how much of the mess is permanent" phenomenon, and as it happens, my truck looks like BP had some oil lines running through it at some point, and didn't do such a great job on keeping them intact. Just sayin.

But, I had a nice relaxing day of cleaning and discovering that it doesn't really matter if I clean Ninja Truck or not, but I still like doing it. Tomorrow it's the house, which I don't enjoy at all, but I will enjoy looking at it with the satisfaction of knowing that it will be clean for an entire five seconds. :::happy sigh::: I can feel the Christmas Spirit returning....

I'm Beggin Ya

Dear Interwebz,
Please come get my children to sleep. I can't handle anymore.

I tell them to go to bed, and they just don't. I mean, they just don't. They act like I never said anything at all.

So I tell them louder, and also with some herding in the proper direction until everyone is in their room. But they don't lay down.

I tell them to lay down, so they do. And I tuck them in and turn off the lights and go sit down for the first damn time all day, but only for a second because then the parade starts. First it's "I need a drink" followed naturally by "I need to go potty". After that comes "Can I sleep on the couch? Or in your bed? Or anywhere but my own bed, please?"

For dramatic effect, when everyone starts getting super tired, they trot out their major emotional issues. It's usually the last one or two left awake and I've been trying for three hours to get them to sleep, and they will have been quiet for about ten minutes. I think the night is finally coming to an end until I hear footsteps and sniffles. A small being launches itself into my lap and cries "MOOOMMMMMMYYYYY!!!! Everybody hates meeeeeeee!" Or sometimes it's "I had a bad day at school, and I'm never going back again!" Or "I want my Daaaaaaddyyyyyy...call him call him call him call him call him call him call him call him..." And suddenly I'm crying too and asking "Why, why, why didn't you tell me this at dinner when I asked what was wrong with you?" And they're all "because I was fine at dinner!" And I'm all "Then you're fine now, GO TO BED!" And they get ten steps toward their room, but they turn around and ask some off the wall question like "But, Mommy? Was I adopted?" Or "Is there really a Santa?" And I have to tell them that there is a law that says mommies aren't allowed to answer any questions after midnight, so they will just have to ask me in the morning.

Three hours after I should be in bed, they finally fall asleep and I am too stressed out to sleep and it takes until three in the morning before I can stop the spinning in my head and pass out. And that's a good thing, because by four, at least two of the kids will be back up and trying to sneak into my bed with me, which I admit I have been more lenient about out of sheer sleepiness, but it's not really helping things because they steal the covers and also turn off my alarm clock before I hear it and then go back to sleep which is why we miss the bus every morning and pretty much why I wish the world didn't start until one in the afternoon.

So, please, Interwebz, can you fix my kids?

Execution

Ha!

I've waited since the end of summer and I've finally found a way to be rid of you.

I hate you, you know. The way you sneak into every minute of my life, the way you are always there everywhere I look in my own home, the way you evade my efforts to get rid of you for good. But I've got you now, my pretty.

You have become such a constant annoyance that there are days at a time when I don't even notice you, only to have your presence rain down on me with renewed force. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you.

For years, you have been there, waiting in the wings, wanting to take over my life, but I held you at bay, until a few months ago. You took advantage of what I was going through, and you snuck past the wall I had built against you.

Today, when I was working around the house not really thinking of you at all, you jumped at me from behind the sugar tin. As I spun around, you were everywhere...on the bulletin board, on the fridge, on every shelf in every room of my house, under the table, in my car, in my bed, stuck in the cushions of the couch....and it dawned on me -- I can be rid of you! Mwuahahahaha!!!!

So I swept you away. Every memory of you is banished from my house. You didn't think I could do it, did you? But I did, because there is one fatal flaw in your plan, my friend...you forgot one detail.

It's the end of the freaking semester. All paperwork starts over from here on out, and I no longer have use for anything with any school letterhead at the top. So get out of my life, schoolwork. For two entire weeks I will be blessedly free of you and your need to come home with every person in my house to find a new place to hide. We are done with you for 2010.

Good riddance.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz

Interwebz, I soooo sleepy.

If you come over and bring me coffee, I will both write and give you free Christmas goodies. Otherwise, I think I'll beat my kids to bed tonight.

If you see them running around, holler at them to get home and get into bed, please.

Christmas, Step 8

Homemade Gifts:

For a long time, I thought baked goods were the perfect Christmas gift. Nobody needs anything else to dust, I can't afford to give everyone cash or gift cards, and who doesn't love food? As I had more and more (and more) children, I decided that baking wasn't such a great idea. I love to bake, and do a lot of it in December, but only if I want to and only for my family. The thing about bakery items is that you want them fresh, which means making them very close to Christmas, which means that on Christmas Eve, you're still pulling pumpkin loaves out of the oven wondering why the inside is all gooey at the three o'clock in the morning -- not worth it so much anymore.

Last year, I decided to make candy. I made three different kinds, all in one afternoon, and it was awesome. The only problem was that I felt I needed more, so I quadrupled the amounts this year, both because there are more people on our list, and because I wanted to put more in each tin.

The meant making 500 chocolate covered cherries. That means rinsing them, drying them for two hours, then wrapping each individual cherry in a paste made of powdered sugar, corn syrup and butter, then sealing each one completely (so they don't leak) in chocolate. So after five hours, I got one quarter of them done. Actually, I got one quarter of them covered in sugar, and I have yet to try to cover them in chocolate.

So no more candy gifts. I'm not sure what I'm doing this year, and I'm hoping that everyone on my list is wanting a paper that one of the kids bring home from school, because that seems to be what I have in excess around here. And the kids won't let me throw any of it away, so maybe wrap a bow around it and pass them back to the teachers and call it even? I think yes.

PS: This is the text I got from my mom today after she accidentally sent me a text that was supposed to go to my dad:
"Oops. You probably don't even care, hog? Lol. That was for dad."

And this is how spellchecker can get you into trouble.

Christmas, Step 7

I finally got the first bits of shopping done today, and I'm very glad I decided to be sick this week and stay home from school. I don't have a Christmas letter from myself on how to handle Christmas "single", so I'm learning through trial and error this year. You, Interwebs, are lucky to have me to teach you.

Things I Learned Today:

When your ex says he wants to split gifts for the kids with you "so you can get really good gifts", just make your list around your own budget. His idea of "really good" may be different from yours, and his idea of splitting may mean giving you ten bucks per child "if" he has it two weeks after Christmas. Maybe. You don't want to take any chances, is my point.

If you have older boys, they probably want expensive electronical things. They will probably break them, so buy them used at a place that buys and resells stuff like that. But check Craigslist first because someone may list the exact same item for thirty dollars less literally five minutes after you buy it.

My girls wanted "FurReal" pets. I found them on sale today (score!) and bought two giant ones. As I wheeled my cart around Target in the wobbly basket, the toys were all "Meow. Meow....WOOF!" Which was really annoying. It struck me as I tried to hide them in the back of Ninja Truck before I picked up the kids from school that perhaps I shouldn't buy toys that make noise unless I can take them home before I put the kids in the car. Especially if three of the kids had asked for actual puppies and kittens for Christmas, and all the mewing and barking coming from the back of the truck may give them a wrong impression.

Be sure you have someplace to hide gifts. Seriously. Aside from your car, if those gifts make noise. And aside from areas of your home you may be afraid of, such as an attic or storm cellar.
(Underground locked room = good hiding spot. Scorpions and snakes and a foot of standing water = bad hiding spot.)

Dr. Grinch

As I am still not quite over the sickness I had two weeks ago, and I'm also about to go insane trying to get ready for Christmas, I decided to take a leave of absence for the last week of the semester. This gives me time to catch up with my life before my kids get off school.

I had strep before, and it seems to not be going away quite yet. I have to go talk to my doctor tomorrow. He is really nice in that made me sit in the waiting room for an hour but apologized for it profusely during while examining me when I was really uncomfortable and would've said ok to anything just to get out of that office kind of way. But I still don't want to go. I hate how doctors are all self-righteous about stuff like health and not doing anything that kills you or whatever.

Dr: What seems to be the problem?

Me: Well, I still feel like I have strep, even though I finished the antibiotics.

Dr: Ok....let's take a look...you don't smoke, right?

Me: Well, yes....er..yes, I do.

Dr: So you just started?

Me: No, but you ask me every time I come in, so it should be in my chart or something.

Dr: Oh, I guess I just assumed you would have taken my advice by now. But assume makes an ass out of u and me, so...mostly you, though. Because you smoke. After I said to quit.

Me: Yeah. :::looks guiltily at feet::: Ok.

Dr: Ok, you'll quit?

Me: Uh...yes. Sure.

Dr: Hmmm....ok, let me see what's wrong with your throat. :::gags me with a tongue depressor::: How long have you been sick?

Me: :::gag::: ooo eeegs

Dr: I'm sorry I didn't catch that.

Me: :::bites his hand::: I said "two weeks".

Dr: Yeah, well, I'm going to have to say that if you quit smoking, your throat should start feeling much better.

Me: I can't.

Dr: You can't? Why?

Mr: For religious reasons.

Dr: You have to smoke because of your religion? What religion, may I ask?

Me: I'm Catholic, but it's in the Ten Commandments.

Dr: There is no commandment that says you have to smoke.

Me: Yes, there is. "Thou shalt not kill."

Dr: So don't you think that could be taken as an exhortation not to smoke?

Me: I suppose. But I think it's disrespectful for me to get all homicidal during the Season of Peace and Love, don't you think? And quitting smoking...I don't know. I just think it's not really the time of year for stabbiness and road rage.

Dr: And quitting smoking....makes you "stabby"?

Me: My smoking habit is the reason you didn't lose any fingers earlier. Just sayin.

Dr: I must still insist that you at least try to cut back.

Me: Done.

Dr: And lose some weight.

Me: Really? That'll help my throat and my stabbiness? Ya think so, Doc?

Dr: No, it will not. It won't cure your smartassery, either, but it's good for you.

Me: You're judgemental.

Dr: No, I'm just concerned for your health.

Me: You're mean.

Dr: :::sigh::: I can't tell you what to do, but...

Me: :::storms out of the room::: :::forgets purse, has to go back and ruin a perfectly good storm-out::: Grinch.

Dr: Smoker.


I hate going to the doctor.

Chats with Shucks: Christmas Edition

Me: I guess since it's freezing I have to let you in the house. Don't be bad.

Shucks: I won't...I promise. Just let me in....HEY, since when are there trees in the living room?

Me: I'm busy, just leave the tree alone.

Shucks: :::lifts leg and pees on the tree:::

Me: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Shucks: It's mine. I have to claim it or nobody will know and the tree ghosts will come and steal it. Who do you think is responsible for making sure we still have the trees in the yard? They don't just stay out there by themselves, you know.

Me: Yes they do! That's what trees do! They stay where they are....it's their nature. OMG, you just peed on the Christmas tree!

Shucks: I wasn't peeing on the tree, yo. That would be gross. I was labeling it.

Me: With pee. You labeled it with pee. :::smacks the dog on the nose:::

Shucks: OW! Quit it, I'll box you with my Ninja Paws.

Me: Go freeze, Shucks. Just go outside and freeze. You are not going to come in here and destroy Christmas. Just go.

Shucks: Look, I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry you're upset about this, but I'm not sorry for ensuring that your tree is safe from ghosts. Ok? Just calm down. Why don't you take half of this tortilla that I buried in your closet and we'll talk this out.

Me: You're burying food? In my house?

Shucks: Tortillas are for special occasions only. If you continue to insult my ability to hang onto things, I won't share it with you.

Me: We haven't even had tortillas for a month....I don't think I want to share with you, Shucks.

Shucks: Suit yourself. I'll just go put this other half somewhere... :::digs at Dalton's mattress and hides the tortilla under it:::

Me: Dude, you are disgusting. :::gets the tortilla and puts it in the trash::: What else do you have hidden around here?

Shucks: Nothing :::chews on the shoe I've been looking for for two months:::

Me: SHUCKS! Get out!

Shucks: Why don't you just calm down, woman? I'll be laying down on my nice Christmas pillows over here.

Me: Your Christmas pillows? What exactly do you mean by yours?

Shucks: You know, as in "owned by me".

Me: Owned by you as in "Have your pee on them?"

Shucks: PSH! Whatevs, yo.

Almost Christmas Break

Do people ever grow out of acting up when "the boss" isn't around?

Remember as kids when there would be a substitute teacher and the whole day was just a waste? And I haven't worked in awhile, but I seem to recall a few work days that went the same way when the boss wasn't around.

Our teacher wasn't at school today, and we had this nice little old lady instead. Most of the time, we know if our regular teacher won't be there, so we plan our day accordingly; normally, I wouldn't plan to take a test that day, and just have stuff to do that doesn't require asking questions. This time, we didn't know, and the only thing I had to do was take two tests, and I didn't want to do that today, so I just goofed off and talked and studied a little.

Everyone else talked through the entire class. One guy kept leaving the room and managed to be in the class just often enough to make sure they didn't notice and count him absent. It's very close to the end of the semester, and we get the firing squad if we miss more than five hours or something, so it's very important that people are in the room, even if they aren't doing anything.

And if I could, I just need to mention that this makes me a little angry. I've missed about seven days of school because of my kids being sick. I can't miss any more or I face the wrath of the votech dean. However, I have done twice the work I need to. I am pretty sure that should count for something like maybe taking December off. Because I don't want to be anywhere but home in December.

There is one guy who sits in the front and he always leaves early. Our teacher notices it about half the time. He left today about ten minutes after class started, and the sweet little old lady started counting people and noticed that one was missing. She kept asking where the other person went and we were all looking around to see who was gone. After about ten minutes, three or four of us had figured out who it was, but nobody wanted to tattle. Seriously, like eight year olds. We're all "Hmmm....I don't know how many people are usually here...I see everyone I sit next to...I just don't know..." So finally, the lady decided she had counted wrong in the first place, and went back to her desk.

We all rolled our eyes at each other as a passive agressive statement about people who leave early and put the rest of us in a bad situation, and possibly also we were a little jealous that he thought of it first. Or maybe a lot jealous. Or maybe one of us was jealous enough that they spent the rest of the class imagining the wonderful adventures he must be having in the wide world outside the classroom. That person may have been me, but also maybe not, because the guy next to me kept leaning over and whispering "Can I go, too? Is it time to leave? Do you think I could sneak out?"

A few minutes later, the sub was obviously still bothered because she started going to every empty seat in the room and asking who normally sat there. This part was kind of funny, because the seat in question was the furthest from her, so we got the gossip on every missing person before she finally got to his seat. She asked where that guy went and we all said "Ohhhh...yeah...haven't seen him in awhile..." So she called in the teacher next door and wrote him up. And then some other girl realized what was going on and said "Oh, I saw him talking to that girl over there!" The "girl over there" was one who knew he was missing and hadn't told, so she wasn't very thrilled with getting called out. The thing is, I didn't see him talk to her, and I was pretty sure it hadn't happened.

It hadn't. She had been talking to a different guy, the one who kept disappearing but also coming back. So the lady who was trying to tattle starts cracking up and says "Oh, well, they all look alike, who cares?" I kid you not, she really said that. And I thought it was pretty racist against men, because that was pretty much the only thing those two had in common....

And what does it say about my life right now that I really want to grill that guy tomorrow on what he did during his free time so that I may live a little vicariously through him....maybe he took a nap, or got a pizza, or sat down and listened to his iPod....wow. He's my hero.

Another Run In with the Police

Dalton is the easiest kid in the world to raise. He is naturally sweet and giving and he gets along with everyone. He always tries to make everyone happy and I don't really have to do a whole lot with him as far as discipline goes. When he does act up, it's always a shock, but never has he done anything like what he did this afternoon.

We had to run home and change for church right after school this afternoon, so I told the boys to go ahead and switch turns in the front seat, which meant that Dalton had to get in the back so Warrick could sit up front. Dalton didn't want to. So he just didn't get back in the car.

When he saw that I was seriously going to leave without him, he decided to ride with us, but he wanted to get something from the house first. I didn't let him because we were in a hurry, so he thought he should show me what's up by sitting in the floor of the car and not bothering with being in a seat or a seat belt.

I drove down our road, telling him to get into a seat, but he still hadn't by the time we got to the stop, so I pulled over and waited for him to get in his seat. He said he was stuck, so I reached down to help him stand up. At the same moment, Warrick yelled "there's a police officer!" I'm not sure why my kids do this, because they have no reason to fear the cops (as far as I know), but they always announce it. The police cruiser was parked about twenty feet away, and I think he lives down the road he was on, but for some reason, he was just hanging out there.

Dalton immediately grabbed his arm and started screaming "Mommy! You hurt my arm, you hurt my arm!" I didn't hurt his arm, yo. I was trying to help him stand up, but I didn't do it nearly as roughly as I should have at that point. I thought there was something really wrong with him, so I patiently tried to help him up so I could see. There wasn't anything wrong, so I told him to get in the seat and buckle up.

He said no, so I turned around and told him to obey. He started jumping all over the car, screeching "NONONONONONONONOOOOOO!" I got him by the back of the neck and said (very quietly) "Get. In. Your. Seat." He continued to scream about how badly I was hurting him, so I got out of the car to go around by his door. That's when I saw the cruiser sitting there...I had forgotten all about him. It dawned on me what Dalton was doing.

As I opened his door, I yelled "Are you trying to get me in trouble with the POLICE?" Ok, probably not my best moment, but I was in shock. The good news is that I think I scared the policeman, because he suddenly decided he did want to go ahead on down his driveway and quit worrying about me.

But seriously? So I told Dalton to get out of the car and made him stand on the side of the road where the view of the departing cruiser was blocked. I gave him a very loud speech about how I didn't care if the police saw him getting in trouble or not, and that he would be in just as much, if not more, trouble with the cops as he was with me for not wearing his seat belt. Dalton looked at me in complete fear because he was learning an important lesson: Mommy is more badass than the police. Yep. So he put his seat belt on and I never had to tell him that the policeman was gone before I yelled at him, and if he hadn't been, I'm not really sure what I would have done.

Confession

On the phone with my cousin this evening, there was some serious discussion about how many moms tell the real story about their day.

I have nothing to write about this evening, mostly because it's past my bedtime and I am sleepy, yo. So it's confession time...help me convince my cousin that there is no such thing as a perfect mommy, and that we all make mistakes, sometimes even on purpose.

My confessions: (and you all have to come out of hiding and leave your own stories in the comment box)

Just yesterday, I skipped reading any "Monday folders" and didn't even make my kids do their homework because I'm tired of their school taking up all my time. Also, I was mad at my kids and I needed to clean...furiously. So I cleaned their playroom and didn't sign papers and I feel great about it. I think I'm starting Christmas break from homework folders before we start our actual break. I am digging this tradition a little bit.

Once, when only my oldest was in school, I got so busy with the three at home that I completely forgot to pick him up in the afternoon. When the school called, I'm all "OMG! Where is their dad??? He should have been there by now!"

A few Sundays ago, I took a nap. I have no idea what my kids did. I don't want to know.

Last year, I forgot Emma's birthday until the morning of. I had to plan a party in three hours.

This year, I argued with Madilynn for thirty minutes because she thought she was turning six and I thought she was turning five. She was right.

I get excited when the kids have to take medicine that makes them sleepy, and I won't let them take it during the day -- only at night and I sit on the couch and giggle as they fall asleep without my intervention.

I bribe my kids for everything. I had to admit this today when a lady sought me out to ask what my trick was for getting them to behave at the store...she started in on how important consistency is and how I must be very strict...I had to tell her the truth. I let them pick out candy on the way out of the store. I am, however, pretty consistent on this.

Ok, your turn, Interwebz...what's your mommy confession?

I wouldn't touch you with a 39 and 1/2 foot pole

For the fourth weekend in a row, the ex has decided he can't take the kids. He couldn't even let his mother take the kids because he couldn't handle any extra people in the house. He couldn't even let his mother take two of the kids while he stayed in bed because that would throw off his entire universe and things would just start falling apart all over the place.

My kids are not impressed. They aren't really angry at him or blaming him at all, which, as much fun as it would be, I absolutely don't want them doing. They have a new plan...get a backup daddy. Maybe they read this blog. But whatever the reason, they have decided that it is now my job to remarry so that there is always some dude around to hang with them on the weekends just in case their real dad decides to split.

(Note: This is not funny. I'm more pissed at him than I have ever been for letting our kids down. My kids amaze me in their ability to handle this situation. I am both amazed and amused by their solution to this problem, and that is where the funny comes in. So don't yell at me, yo.)

Potential Interview for "Backup Daddy"

Warrick: So....what do you have to say for yourself?

Backup Daddy: Well...I'm not sure...

Warrick: Well, a position has recently come open for Backup Daddy at our house....are you interested?

BD: Uhhh.....

Dalton: Why is your face turning colors?

Huston: That is a scientific reaction to fear...we should start with easier questions.

Donovan: Do you want to watch Elmo?

BD: Sure, anything but this interview...

Donovan: Elmo! :::goes into the bathroom to practice for the inevitable potty training by flushing all the toothbrushes down the toilet:::

Madilynn: Would you agree that I am, in fact, a princess? And do you like my shoes?

BD: Yup. Sure.

Madilynn: Hired! :::runs off for the fifteenth wardrobe change of the day:::

Warrick: Not so fast. Have you met my mom? Because you would have to marry her and she's kind of bossy.

BD: What? No, I haven't....Can you go get her please? I just need her to sign this paper and I can go..

Huston: Do you like video games?

BD: Well, not really.

Huston: Hired! I'm not sharing. :::returns to the computer:::

Dalton: Is your last name UPS? Because that's kind of weird, and I go to school and I don't want to have a weird name.

Warrick: Dalton, the kids don't have to change their name, only Mommy.

BD: Can one of you please go get your mom?

Warrick: Hold on a minute! Nobody is getting married around here until I figure some things out. Now, are you available for taking us to the zoo on short notice, preferably on weekends? And do you make enough money to buy more video games?

BD: Seriously, I think you should get your mom.

Warrick: Well, he's wearing that coverall, so I guess he has a job. Good enough. About the zoo, though...

BD: Where's your mom?

Dalton: I'll get my mom, but you can't name her UPS.

Warrick: I don't think this is working out...you'll have to go.

BD: I'm going to just leave this on the porch and...uh... :::runs to the truck:::

Christmas, Step 6

Christmas shopping, the most stressful part of the holidays, can be made much easier if you remember a few simple rules:

1. Don't try to outdo anyone or anything. You don't need to do better, or even as well as, last year. You don't need to out give what you got last year. Save the trees, yo. Or the whales...or something, just chill out a little bit.

2. Never take your husband shopping with you. I know, I don't have one, but still, I did for ten years. I used to think it would be a fun date night and after five years of this nonsense, I began writing myself a letter after each Christmas to read before the next Christmas, full of reminders of what went right or wrong that year. One letter read "DO NOT take L*** shopping. He will play with Legos the entire time, and then decide not to let you spend any money, and you will just have to come back and do it alone later." This happened every year.

3. Men are hard to buy for. I found a solution this year. I had a day with just my boys, and I went shopping for all of the men on my list. Then, I made a point to tell the men that the boys were so excited because I let them pick out presents for them. That way, the men can't complain about what the kids pick, and I am totally off the hook trying to choose something myself. (For instance, my father in law is getting a toy rocket. He will be less than thrilled, but since the boys picked it out, it's cute rather than tacky.)

4. Don't shop on Black Friday unless it's for yourself. You just don't need the stress. You don't want to have to kill some other mom over a Tickle Me Elmo and spend your holidays in jail with your face all over the news next to Elmo. It's embarrassing, really.

5. Don't go to the toy aisle in December. If you aren't done shopping for your kids by Thanksgiving, you're just screwed, and you need to give up and use it as an opportunity to let Santa do the punishing for whatever messed up thing your kid is doing at that point.

6. Don't spend more than you have. That's not funny at all, is it? But it's just stupid to go into debt over a holiday that is better spent focusing on something other than Buying More Crap. If you want to pay for Christmas all year long, you need to start the January before, not the January after.

These are my rules for shopping, and I'm still considering just not doing any of it this year. Especially when it's an hour past bedtime and the kids aren't anywhere near sleep...sounds like a Santa lesson to me.

Christmas, Step 5

Our favorite tradition during December is to go look at Ooo Doogies. Ooo Doogies are what our family calls Christmas lights, and I have so many memories of riding in the back of my mom's van every year when I was a kid, never too old to be completely enthralled by them. I am still enthralled, and I love taking my kids out, only wishing I didn't have to drive so that I could lean my forehead against the cold window and get lost in the magic of the lights.

A few years ago, I started a tradition with my kids of surprising them with our Ooo Doogies outing. I would put them to bed just like any other night, wait until they were quiet and falling asleep, then make hot chocolate and pack cookies. I would warm the car, wake them one at a time, leaving them in their jammies and wrapping them in their blankets, take them out to the car and give them their goodies. We would drive around looking at lights, spilling hot chocolate all over the car and listening to Christmas carols for a few hours until I either ran out of gas or ran out of energy, then go home and crawl back into bed. It's my absolute favorite tradition with my kids, and it's theirs, too.

The next morning, they are still sticky and covered in the remnants of whatever snacks I packed and splashes of chocolate on their faces, and I have to wash their sheets and jammies, and give everyone a bath before we can do anything else, but it's so worth it.

This tradition doesn't photograph as well as opening gifts on Christmas morning; it's not as public as the True Meaning of Christmas; it's not as familial as Christmas dinner or visiting the grandparents, but it's the one that always sticks the best in our minds. Last year was an insane Christmas with my separation from their dad, the Christmas Blizzard of 2010 (I love storm names!), being snowed in for the three day surrounding Christmas, and their dad being hospitalized after being snowed in with us...I'm not sure I managed to get a single picture or to slow down enough to remember a single moment. But I remember the Ooo Doogies and so do my kids. It's like a secret little adventure just for us, nobody knows exactly where we are and we forget about the little stresses in our lives and meld together in a rare instance of brothers and sisters who love each other and a mommy who gets to be a friend and children who don't need anything but this moment in time.

It's the first thing they ask about in December, always wanting to know exactly what day I'm planning the surprise. I never tell them and I never even know myself. In years past, I would try to go on a day that their dad was having a particularly hard time, both to give him a break and to give them a break from the depression that seems to emanate from one person and permeate the entire household.

This year, I hope to go on one of the many good days we are going to have in December. We have reached a time of calm and happiness and openness in our family that has come from years of bonding through rough patches. The recent disappointments the kids have gone through have brought them closer together. They look out for each other, they see that their siblings are their fellow warriors in the battle of life, and they appreciate each other for that. It amazes me to see them becoming better people because of the struggles in their lives. I am inspired by them and they are inspired by each other, and I can't wait to go look at Ooo Doogies this year because it fits our happiness together rather than forcing it.

Christmas, Step 4

I am pretty sure everyone gets sick at least once in December. It has nothing to do with Christmas, but since it messed with my getting-ready plans, it gets to be on the blog.

Even Almost Martha gets sick in December, but she does it beautifully, and would never do anything like let all the phones die and not have enough energy to put them on chargers and lay in a chair all night and have her kids make dinner and put themselves to bed while she discovers that crying and staring out a cold window don't go well with whatever is already wrong with her head. Never. Almost Martha doesn't even have to go to the doctor, because she waits until the kids get it and just finds out what they have.

Turns out it's strep, which is pretty much awesome in the treatability department, but not so awesome in the do anything besides cry department.

Warrick is the one I finally took to the doctor, and mostly because I knew he was faking but the school was going to keep sending him home every time he complained unless I had proof that it wasn't real. He didn't have a fever and his only symptom was a sore throat that was mysteriously absent except for the first hour of the morning when I was getting everyone ready for school. Even the doctor thought he was faking and told me she would do the test just to be sure, but that since there wasn't a fever and he really didn't seem sick, it was probably just a little virus. When the test came back positive for strep, the doctor was surprised, but not so much as Warrick, who said "I thought I was faking!"

Turns out his coach had told him about what happens when you have to have your tonsils removed, and Warrick was hoping that if he played up his sore throat, he would be on his way to a week of ice cream in bed with no school. Alas, no such luck...just the icky pink antibiotic and he'll be back at school on Monday.

On a slightly different note, avoid the pharmacy in December. Or maybe all year. But definitely in December. Everyone in the world was there today. Hi, guys! I got the timid tech. Warrick's prescription was done, but mine was not, so she rang his up and then went to get a little measuring spoon for it. Twenty minutes later, I was yelling at my kids to quit touching everything and practically making them drink the Germ-X on the counter (hey, maybe it would help them sleep...don't judge me), and trying to make eye contact with her to tell her to just forget the spoon. But she wouldn't look at me, and I think the problem was that they ran out of spoons, so she had to go mold me up a new one and that can take a little time waiting for the plastic to cool and everything.

By the time she got me a spoon, my own prescription was ready, so she just had to grab it from the pharmacist and I could be on my way. Only the pharmacist was involved in a very deep conversation about what happened to the shipment of oxycodone they were supposed to receive that day. (I wanted to venture a guess, but I was still aiming for getting out of there in under an hour.) My timid tech stood right in front of him just waiting for him to look up and ask what she wanted. Only he never did. Every once in awhile, she got up the nerve to stand on her toes a little, but then she would chicken out and just stand there normally again. She finally got his attention and asked for my meds after about ten minutes, but then he picked them up and started talking again, forgetting to hand them over to her. This led to some more toe-standing/regular standing from the tech, until he eventually noticed her and handed over the meds.

I didn't complain because I have learned to never complain until after the last kid is sick...much like flipping off the guy who cut your power...there are certain people that come into our lives whom we would like to screw with, until we realize that they are really the kings, and we just have to live with it. The people with the antibiotics and the electricity are two of them. Also the dude in charge of Interwebz, the person who controls fuel costs, and the person serving your food in a restaurant...trust me, don't screw with these people.

So in summary:
1. Use only drive-through pharmacies in December
2. Don't ask for a spoon
3. Don't piss off the kings

Christmas Step 3

Decorating the tree, Part Dos.

After the tree has been all set up with the diapers and the bricks and the hook, you are ready for the trimmings.

The first thing you need to do is make sure that the tree is still standing. When you leave the room to get the box of ornaments, you are likely to return to your tree looking like this:

I know it's hard to see, due to the fact that the only lighting in my living room is coming from the garland…so here's a better idea:

If you return to find your tree at this angle, you can either throw in the towel and decorate it like this, or start over with your hook and see what you can do. I chose to start over, and managed to find something a little taller than my kitchen chairs to stand on, but next year I'm going to make sure the tree isn't right next to the heater vent and maybe I won't get too hot and pass out and fall off the desk I was standing on. Even Almost Martha learns something new every Christmas.

When the tree is standing (or not), it's time for lights. If you were smart last year, you wrapped your lights around one of those things you buy for your garden hose. If you were not so smart, you also put the part with the plug in first, which means that you now have to unwrap all the lights before you can test them and make sure they work, which renders the garden hose idea useless. If you decide against testing them because you don't want your lights in a pile on the floor, you can go ahead and put them all on the tree. Then, plug them in. Then, see half of them not light up.

Tell your kids it doesn't matter, the lights that don't work just make the ones that do that much more interesting.