Thursday, November 26, 2009

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

I could just gobble her up!

Hey! Wait a minute! That's not turkey!

The boys sang some Thanksgiving Day song they learned at preschool.
Couldn't really make out all the words or you know I would share!

Would it be so hard to get both boys to look at the camera and smile? I know, you're thinking, "Hey, you should thank your lucky stars they sat still!"
The reason?
I purposefully waited until their cousins wore them out running up and down the stairs, wrestling, searching for leaves, and throwing rocks in the creek!

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Walkie no Talkie

At 15 months, Princess is finally walking on two feet (my previous post from 08/30 showed she was walking on all fours.) I was hesitant in wishing her to walk. You know, once they start, you can't make them stop. But I was tired of carrying her all the time. And as soon as we were in public, or at least any place with a nasty floor, she would want to get down and crawl. It was killing me.

Now she looks "oh so cute" getting around like a little Frankenstein (as she doesn't bend her knees and simply sways from her left flat foot to her right flat foot). The only difference between her and young Frank, is that rather than holding her arms straight out, she bends the right one at the elbow with her hand up in the air - as if she is carrying a phanthom purse.

Now to the Talking. Currently, she is making lots of noises, but not a single audible word. Just sounds. Weird sounds. In fact, I have dubbed her the Princess of Eghh Neghh. There must be somewhere out there an imaginary Land of Eghh Neghh's. That's the kind of stuff she says all day long. From the moment she wakes in the morning until the time she is ready to turn in, she talks to the Eghh Neghh's. In the morning, I can hear her in the nursery. She sits in her crib with Dolly, Lamby, Bunny, Bear, and Froggie and hams it up. "Eickk neck whick yock." "Gaah gaah yaah yaah." "Leck ik nyick yock."

The phonetics are quite strange. It's not a Mork from York Na-noo Na-noo kind of thing. Instead, everything ends in ck, gh, or ah. The only distiguinshible sound that anyone has been able to discern is "Keeck." Her version of "Thank you." At least she has manners about her.

Am I worried... you know... that someone may think she is a little slow? Oh to the contrary! This is a sign of true genious. How many 15 month olds have created their own language and rule over so many (I count them 8) stuffed animals?

So, with hesitation, I wish to hear just a "Mama" or "Dada." Or anything that consistently refers to the folks that care for her on a daily basis.

I know, I know. Be careful what you wish for. I've already got one that says "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy" about 5, 364 times a day. And another that says, "Ma-e, Ma-e, Maaa-eeee" just under 400 times a day. Who knows, maybe soon I'll start hearing "Magh-magh, Magh-magh, Maaaaagh-maagh".

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Third Time's a Charm

So this past Thursday, I get all three kids, school bags, lunch boxes, diaper bag for Princess, my jeans for the tailor, and a bag of stuff to return to Target, all packed in the car. We are SO close to being on time today. Whoo! Hoo!

I go to crank the van and Rerrr, Rerr, Rer as the dashboard lights slowly fade to nothing. Are you kidding me? NOT a dead battery. I jump out of the car as the boys let me know that the movie is not on. Duh! More than likely, THAT is the reason for my dead battery. I had noticed the sliding van door was open as we entered the garage. Most likely that means one of the boys had gotten in the van yesterday while we were home all day for Veteran's Day, left the door open, which lead to the quietness of my engine this morning.

Ugh! I opened the hood, grabbed my charger pack and hooked it up to the battery. Tried the starter and Rerrr, Rerrr, Rerrr. Nothing. OMG. Seriously? I grabbed the house phone and tried my next door neighbor. "Are you busy? Can you please drive over?" I frantically start moving all the stuff, no junk, ok, I admit, its just a bunch of crap out of the way, so that my neighbor can pull her car far enough into the garage for my jumper cables to reach.

She opens her hood and I am surprised by the size of her teeny little battery. Hmmm. That's odd. Oh, well. Let's get this going. I hook up red to positive, black to her frame, then red to my postive, black to my frame. We start her up, then me, and again - Rerrrr, Rerrrrrr, Rerrrrr. It's getting worse. My neighbor then says, "I think the black on mine is supposed to be hooked to the negative charge." Duh. Ladies rule. We can do this! I'm sure that's the problem. We try again, same thing. Uggh. Then she mentions that maybe it has something to do with her car being a hybrid. Hmmmm. As we stand out in the driveway discussing, we see my otherside next door neighbor out in the yard with his dog. We yell him down, explain my dilema and have him drive over. Somewhere in all this, I called my dad a few hundred times who makes sure I have connections in the right place and wonders if my starter could be loose?

While all this is drama is going on outside the van, I've got even more drama inside the van. My screaming kids, all still buckled into their seats asking "what's wrong with the movie", "why aren't we moving", "why is the car broken", "mommy can I get out now", "mommy are we going to preschool", asking my neighbor they've seen a bagillion times, "What's your name again?"

So my other neighbor pulls in, verifies with me that red is positive, black is negative, hooks up to his battery, then to mine, again n.o.t.h.i.n.g!!! What the heck??? In fact, it is getting worse!! So I politely thank a second neighbor and send them both back to their days and resolve to being at home with all three kids for another day. My dad on the otherhand, has plans to drive almost two hours to come help me, because he can't have his baby and her babies be without a motorized vehicle in the event an emergency were to arise.

"Wait" I say. You see, I have one more trick in my back pocket. Not my husband...are you kidding? He is in meetings from the time he enters his work premise until the time he leaves. And because I have emailed him way too many full size 8 MB pictures of the kids, my email and full i.p. address (so I can't make up new emails - trust me, I've tried) have been blocked so that I basically cannot call him or email him the entire work day!

My last option, is my surrogate husband - A neighbor friend, golf buddy, and co-worker of my husband. One of those "Jack of all trades, master of none" kind of guys that can rig most anything to work. So I give him a call, thinking maybe he is off work today or working from home? Turns out he is off on vacation, and currently leaving BJ's wholesale club, headed home.

While I wait, I let the kids out of the car. The boys start playing in the yard in the windy and drizzly remnants of the nor'easter that has lingered for DAYS. I then call preschool to let them know we aren't coming today (since they are more than an hour late into a 3.5 hour school day.) Just as I'm getting off the phone, Big Sticky announces that Little Sticky has pooped in his pants. Well that's just what I needed right now. And to top it all off, I'm about 2 hours past a good cup of coffee. So I get Little in the house, take his dirties off, clean him up, leave him bare bottomed as my third neighbor has now pulled up.

He opens his hood and I gasp with excitement at the size of the battery under the hood of his SUV. It's twice the size of the hybrid, and a third as large as my own. He hooks the cable to his battery with the car cranked, I walk over to my battery and ZAPP!! I squeal as sparks fly. Apparently, I crossed my positive and negative, a big no-no. Anyway, we get it hooked up, and VOILA! It works first try! Yipee! I am ecstatic! An hour and a half late, but ecstatic!

I then run upstairs, get Little some clean pants. Get all the kids back in the car as fast as my arms and legs will allow me and we are off with the movie now playing. I call preschool back to sing, "We're com-ing!" I know they will only get to stay at school for just under two hours, but their lunch is packed and two hours is just enough time to drink a suuuuper large cup of coffee, head to the tailors, and the grocery store, all without preschoolers!

Saturday, November 7, 2009


I've always enjoyed giving unwelcomed advice tips and I am a less than subtle huge promoter of stuff that works. So, every now and then, when I run across something that I think you may find useful, or I think is good value for your money, I will send out the 4-1-1 (information).

We have hardwood floors downstairs. Dirty, sticky, and scratched, hardwood floors. I started out using Swiffer Wet Jet. The product claimed to be safe for hardwoods and it came with appealing disposable pads. After going thru two bottles of the stuff, my floors started looking incredibly dull. Almost as if they had been stripped of their varnish.

So, I switched to a new product. Orange GLO Hardwood Floor 4-N-1. This stuff is awesome! Not only does it remove the sticky spilled orange juice residue but it leaves my floors quite shiny. Polished, if you will.

The only thing I didn't like about this product is it recommended using a mop head with a micro-fiber cloth. The cloths need to be laundered after using which I felt was a waste of a precious (I've got too many dirty clothes around here to be wasting a) wash cycle. I went ahead anyway and bought a couple of the cloths. I noticed after a few cleanings and subsequent runs thru the washer, they turned crunchy on me. And crunchy cloths no longer make for a nice polished floor.

Hmm. What now? I didn't want to spend more money on cloths. So, since I had a few of the Swiffer Cloths remaining, I decided to try one on with the Orange Glo. Voila! Shiny floors AND disposable cloths. The best of both worlds!

There are a few more tools in my floor cleaning gear bag. They include a broom and a dustpan (duh) and baby wipes and a pizza stone scraper. ???? No explanation needed on the broom and pan. On to the baby wipes. They are for getting up the stuff that doesn't sweep... noodles, lettuce, pop-tarts, sticky buns, you name it. And the pizza stone scraper? That's for when I miss the stuff that doesn't sweep and days later find it adhered to the floor like super glue.

Happy Mopping to you!

Monday, November 2, 2009

Trick or Treat, Sick from Sweets

Excuse me if I read a little sluggish this morning. The kids and I are coming down from a nearly week long sugar high. We were actually on vacation last week and as of Saturday night, participated in three different Halloween Costume Festivals in four nights. On Wednesday we visited the NC Aquarium on the Crystal Coast. The kids all dressed up and Trick or Treated at different booths, walked a Spooky Trail, and watched an underwater pumpkin carving contest!

Friday night we went to a Halloween carnival at the community center at Emerald Isle. The kids got to don their costumes again and play games for candy which included bowling with a decapitated head, a cake walk, and a donut eating contest. Lots of sticky sweet fun!!

Saturday we headed home, arriving just in time to unpack the car, find our costumes in all the mess, and redress again. By now the Rocket costume was getting saggy, the Angel's tights were tattered, wings were floppy, halo was crooked, and the Dinosaur, well, actually the Dinosaur was fairing quite well. However, Big Sticky, after seeing his cousins dressed twice as pirates wanted to change his costume to a Dinosaur Pirate. Hmm. So, we added a foam swoard and voila, a Dinosaur Pirate! Roaarrrrgh!

Since we were returning from an extended family vacation, my nephews stayed over for Trick or Treating. Another neighbor came over, so we had a good group of seven ready for Trick or Treating.

It was quite funny watching the kid's different personalities come thru as they Trick or Treated. The pirates (my nephews, ages 9 & 10) would grab handfuls of candy. On the flip side, Big Sticky was a total candy snob. If he was handed a particular piece of unwanted candy, he would say "No, I don't want that one." And would reach in the bowl and make a trade. Little Sticky (Mr. Personality), seemed less interested in actually getting any candy, and more interested in greeting everyone. He would yell out "Happy HALLO-ween!" to the generous homeowners. And then would always follow with a "Tank-koon!" as he struggled to reach around his costume and put the candy in his pumpkin. Princess (dressed as an Angel) kicked back in the wagon and carefully watched everything that was going on while she gnawed on a lollipop.

The youth in our neighborhood sponsored a Haunted House. Since it was a sweltering 80 degrees, the pit-stop was a nice little break. While the mid-kids waited in line for the Haunted House, the little kids jumped in a bounce house & the adults took in some much needed food & drink .

After making our way home, my husband pried a sticky eye from the wall (an obvious trick from one house) while I ran bath water for all the kids. I'm not sure if the kids had more fun getting candy or diving thru the bubbles.

Since Saturday, the kids have been going thru their candy stash singing the "I don't like candy corn" song from Nick Jr. I'm right there with them... never been a fan of the candy corn. Oh, and to keep the kids from "suffering" from more sugars highs and crashes, I've limited them to one candy per age per day. So 4 for Big Sticky, 3 for Little, 1 for Princess. Don't worry, with this low rationing the piles and piles of candy won't be around 'til Valentine's Day. Afterall, mommy's ration is 40 pieces per day, so this stuff won't see the end of next week!

A donut eating contest. Big Sticky getting very sticky!

Little Sticky seems a little creeped out by the head bowling.

The only time we saw Little Sticky in full costume. The paci wasn't part of the original costume. However, it was the only way we could get him to put on the glasses without screaming.

The whole gang ready for Trick or Treating. Well, actually, we had a Wow!Wow!Wubzy! that had already escaped at this point.

Prying the eyeball ball off the wall.

Nothing like a warm bubble bath after a long night of going house to house, wearing a hot costume, collecting lots of candy, and consuming tons of sugar.