Semi-automatic clothes washing

Picture this: six people's worth of dirty laundry and a broken washer. What to do? Sure you could go to the laundromat, but where's the fun in that? Especially when you have small children and a bath tub.

Since I hadn't done the week's laundry yet when my washer broke down last Sunday, and since I didn't know when the part would come in, I threw a load in the tub with a scoop of detergent, a six year old and a nine year old. They swished the clothes all around and stomped on them a lot. We drained the dirty water (whether it was so dirty from the clothes or the feet I'm not sure) and filled the tub again. Rinse and repeat.

They had so much fun we did a second load. I tell you, I have never seen such disappointment as when the new part came in the mail and the washer got fixed. They were hoping it would never come. I think they would have happily done laundry every day. Now if only I could get them to be that excited about laundry done the regular way!

Countdown

Less than five days until we leave for Florida!

We have put the children on notice that if the house is not clean by Friday, we won't leave until Saturday. You would think this would have caused a frenzy of cleaning and the general putting away of things. So far, it hasn't. I suspect what will happen is that Friday afternoon, they will realize we were serious.

We shall see...

Scary

Here are some pics from Halloween!
The little one dressed as a cow again.
The six year old wanted to be something scary. I'm scared. How about you?
My twelve year old dressed as (let's see if I can get this right) a Visorak from Bionicle. He passed his alien costume down to his brother, who ended up winning the scariest costume prize!
He also won two prizes bobbing for apples (and hopefully not too many germs).

Vultures are circling

I am sick. It started Sunday with a fever. Monday night it turned into an achy, fever-filled moan-and-groan fest. Yesterday, I couldn't talk except in a sqawky, raspy, barking sort of way, and then only for short periods of time (I tried valiantly to discuss Poe with my lit class, though). Today, my voice is still not back, I have a cough and runny nose, and my head hurts too much to sleep.

My children, like a pride of lions following the wounded antelope, smell blood. They know I feel terrible. This is clearly the time to ask Mommy for all sorts of ridiculous things, knowing full well that she will say yes just to get them to go away and let her get five more minutes of uninterrupted rest.

No, it's not the best parenting strategy. But I have been mostly on my own for over two weeks now. All my resolve is gone. I just want to lock the bedroom door and let them fend for themselves. Sure, one or two of them might survive solely on candy and sugary cereal, but that's how it is in the jungle.

Now if you'll excuse me, I and my box of tissues are going to go read a book in bed.

Things I learned this weekend

I had a rare day to myself Saturday and decided to do what anyone with a free day would do: clean the house. Here are some things I learned:

1. A three year old with a marker can mark up to approximately four feet above the floor.
2. If he finds a chair, this changes to six feet.
3. Even washable markers will stain the wall.
4. Permanent markers really are.
5. Mr. Clean Magic Erasers really do remove marker from the wall.
6. They do not, however, remove the indentations in the wall where the marker used to be.
7. Likewise for ball point pen.
8. Pencil comes easily off of tile floors.
9. Pencil does not come so easily off of curtains.
10. One container of garlic sauce from Papa John's cover approximately four square feet of floor.
11. Papa John's garlic sauce doesn't dry out when left overnight on a tile floor.
12. The sound of my Scooba cleaning the bathroom floor is eerily similar to the sound of my children screaming at each other.
13. And finally, if I had ten Saturdays to clean my house, I can tell you that it still would not be clean. I barely scratched the surface. But I feel a whole lot better now.
    

The tragedy

Last night, our household suffered a truly tragic event. Or at least you would have thought so from the reaction of the six year old. We moved him and the three year old into their own room.

When he and I returned from soccer practice, Daddy and the twelve year old had already moved the bottom bunk into the new room. The six year old broke down. Great big tears, sobbing, the whole show. And this went on until midnight. He just didn't want to be in a room without his big brothers.

Keep in mind that every night prior to this, he complained because those same big brothers were keeping him awake.

Hopefully he will get used to the new arrangements and everything will eventually go back to normal. We tried to be very understanding about the whole thing, while rolling our eyes at each other behind his back. Honestly, if it's not one thing, it's another around here!

Non-sticky teeth

All I can figure is that cement doesn't stick to my kids' teeth. My oldest has lost two brackets from his braces. My nine year old just had the left bracket for his head gear come off last night - he's previously had the right one come off. Honestly, I'm glad the orthodontist is only three miles from my house or the gas to run back and forth might cost as much as the braces themselves!!

Your child might be misbehaving if...

How I wish these were just hypothetical examples. But no, these all actually happened yesterday.

Your child(ren) might be misbehaving if...
- they wrestle each other on the grocery store floor, right through the automatic doors and out on to the sidewalk.
- he calls you an idiot loudly, in public, just because
- he turns the sheet he's supposed to use to cover himself in the doctor's office into a cape and starts whooshing around the exam room.
- the doctor, with a rather pitying look in her eyes, starts going on about all the wonderful medicines available for ADHD
- when the nurse says she's going to use "numby" spray before their shots, they start screaming, "Don't turn us into mummies! We don't want to be mummies!" at the tops of their lungs

Oh, it was a fun day at the orthodontist and doctor's offices.

Crazy week

I know I've been absent - it's been one of those crazy weeks. Tuesday night, Hubby and I went over to our vacant rental (it's an hour away) and did some work. We'll be spending Saturday there trying to get a lot more done. I filled up an entire sheet of paper with stuff we need to do over there. It's depressing.

Wednesday my oldest son turned 12. Wow. How could he be 12 already? He scored lots of money which he has already spent on Lego Bionicles.

Thursday I took all four boys to the dentist and discovered three cavities in two boys. The other two were, thankfully, cavity-free, because I think we'll need a second mortgage to pay off the dentist as it is.

And today? Well, today I've got more work to do. I've been cleaning the boys' room a little at a time, removing anything that's not a Lego or part of a train set. If they can keep those two items cleaned up, they can slowly have some of their other toys back. Personally, I'm not holding my breath. But we'll see.

Delusions of grandeur

What a shame we can't all retain the knowledge we have when we're three years old. Because all three year olds know everything. At least all of mine have known everything at age three. And I can't tell them any different.

My current three year old not only thinks he knows everything, he thinks he MADE everything. That DVD we're watching? "I made that." The kitchen table? "I made it." What a truly amazing child, no?

This is my reality

Julie mentioned The Next Food Network Star the other day, and I thought I couldn't watch it because we don't get Food Network. But then I checked out our On Demand list, and there it was! So last night I watched people trying to prepare food in less than 45 minutes while on a moving train.

While initially it seemed like a pretty daunting task, I soon came to realize that not one of these chefs would last ten minutes in MY kitchen. Here's how dinner time goes:

• Roughly one hour before, all three younger boys begin asking for snacks, ranging from frozen waffles to chicken nuggets, all to be prepared by me
• For the entire dinner preparation time (10-45 minutes, depending on the meal), they will continue to ask for snacks
• For the same period of time, I will continue to repeat, "We're eating dinner in a few minutes! And even if I wanted to make you a snack, I've only got two hands and I'm making dinner right now!"
• Every time I pull out a dish, open a can, or chop a vegetable, many little hands want to "help."
  
• Every time one little set of hands is allowed to help, more little hands appear, demanding equal time.
• Then I have to clean up the spills which the clash over ingredients inevitably causes.
• Or bandage the cuts because, "Don't put your hand there, I'm chopping vegetables" apparently is code for "Minor cuts get you lots of sympathy. Get a hand in here!"
• Or run cold water over the burns, because we all know a pot isn't hot unless you test it yourself.
• Then I have to dodge little bodies on my way to and from the refrigerator or pantry. And they move a LOT, almost guaranteeing someone's foot will get stepped on.
• Which means more time out for hugs and apologies.
• And assuming I can actually get them to stay out of the kitchen, I have a lovely soundtrack of screaming and fighting to accompany my cooking.

I would like to see these chefs do that every night! And then, they think the Food Network critics are tough? They should try serving a six year old and a three year old!

That would be a great episode, wouldn't it? Hey, Food Network, send your contestants to my house for dinner! That will REALLY test them!

Two kinds of crab

Saturday we were on the beautiful Eastern Shore of Maryland for my cousin Holly's wedding reception (they got married in Feb. in the Caribbean). The weather was beautiful, but hot. Holly wore her wedding dress, which she'd had altered to a wearable-for-special-occasions length. Smart. Mine will probably never be worn again.

The food was A-MA-ZING! Let me tell you, you have not had a crab cake unless you've had one in Maryland. Jumbo lump crab meat just perfectly seasoned, and no Old Bay at all (Old Bay is a crab seasoning for those of you outside the area - it's good, but when the crab meat is that perfect, you don't need it).

The only down side of the weekend was having to drive that far with my whiny, crabby 3-year-old. This child loves to complain, and to argue. He will argue just for the sake of arguing. When I finally stopped arguing with him, he literally started arguing with himself. Unbelievable.

Part 1 of last week

Last week was really crazy. It seemed like such a good idea to tag along with Hubby on his business trip and then go pick up the "new" van. And we did have fun at the hotel. Except for the phone call from the manager telling me we were making too much noise and people were complaining.

Of course, when Hubby checked with the night desk person to make sure we were being quiet enough, we discovered that the only room below ours was the office. So the manager was pinning his annoyance on "the room below yours," which was actually just him sitting at a desk. Why couldn't he just say that?

We spent three hours in the indoor pool and spa. The boys jumped and splashed and screamed and had a grand time. I mostly just sat in the shallow end with the three-year-old. They only got out because they got hungry.

The next day we left the hotel, dropped Hubby at his meeting in Pittsburgh, and drove into the city to go to the science museum. The boys loved it. They always enjoy science museums, as do I. This one had an added bonus: a genuine Cold War-era submarine, open for tours as part of the admission price! That was a big hit, let me tell you!

Then, we made our way into New York. And that's when the "fun" began...

The next hurricane should be named after my son

Fake Quote of the Day:

"I've seen less destruction from a tornado." -H. Hunt

When we visited the science museum in Tampa, they had a whole section about disasters: hurricanes, tornadoes, wildfires, floods. I'm thinking of suggesting another topic for that section of the museum: toddlers.

Here is a sample of what my three-year-old can do with five minutes of free time:First, he pumped half a bottle of lotion into the bathroom sink.Next, he found an unopened pack of diapers and spread them around the floor.
Then, he got some safety scissors and scrap paper and did his impression of a shredder.And finally he went into the schoolroom and threw all the books off the low shelves and dumped stuffed animals on the floor.

Do you think we could apply for disaster relief?

And maybe a combination lock

Fake Quote of the Day:

"I don't know what you're complaining about; the house looks clean to me." - S. Wonder

I just deleted a very depressed-sounding post about how dirty my house is. You've all heard it before. Cleaning up after four boys is just not in the realm of the possible. Not unless they aren't here.

So Hubby and I are escaping. We are finishing the floor in our new master suite and soon we will be able to move over there, lock the doors, and leave the rest of the house to the children. They will not be allowed to set foot in my bedroom, and they will only be allowed into the suite to use the laundry machines.

Sounds like paradise. I love my kids, but I really need a sanctuary.

Good morning!

Tomorrow marks my 900th post! I just passed my 3rd blogiversary, as well, so that's roughly 300 posts per year. Not bad, for rambling aimlessly about nothing. Then again, look how long Seinfeld was on.

I should be at co-op right now, but my oldest son is running a temperature, so we're staying home today. Yesterday I couldn't talk for most of the afternoon. Imagine trying to control four boys with no voice. It doesn't work really well. At least I got some rest.

The weather turned warm yesterday. I hope it goes back to cold and stays there a while before spring. Winter is entirely too short here. But it's better than in Louisiana, where we had about two weeks of winter and a little ice could shut down the whole city. There are some things I miss about Shreveport, but that's not one of them. Now, the food... oh, the food! How I'd love to go eat at some of those restaurants again. Hubby and I have talked about taking an eating tour of the south sometime, just going from restaurant to restaurant and taking in the local delicacies. Mmm!

Okay, was this post rambling enough for you? I'm going to go relax before the boys wake up.

The testosterone has kicked in

Fake Quote of the Day:

"Everybody's got to grow up sometime." - P. Pan

We were in Home Depot the other day picking up a couple of things. My eight-year-old was with me, and kept asking if we could go to the tool department. This was unusual. Usually, he would be asking when we were leaving. So I gave him a questioning look. And he grinned up at me with those adorable brown eyes and said, "I don't know why, but for some reason I've really started to like Home Depot."

"It's because you're male," I said with a sigh. And so it begins.

The reign of terror continues

"The only thing harder to deal with than little boys is little girls." - Miss Hannigan

My youngest son has become quite the little dictator. Last night in the car he ordered everyone to be quiet so he could hear the song playing on the CD. His voice became increasingly louder until I feared we'd have to replace the windshield, which would certainly shatter at his next ear-piercing shriek. Fortunately, life is not like a cartoon. I stuck my fingers in my ears and we continued home.

But he has developed the strange notion that he controls everything in the house. I know this is normal in a three-year-old. To a certain extent. But when he goes about demanding things and screeching when he doesn't get them, that's not right. He has zero tolerance for anything that doesn't instantly go his way, and no clear understanding of the phrase "in a minute" (as in "I'll get you a drink in a minute, when I get off the toilet."). He insists that all of his food be served cold and his drinks be served warm, and woe to me if I happen to serve him a cold fish stick on a day when he's decided that actually, warm might be nice. But not too warm, as I found out yesterday, or he will scream in "pain" every time he picks up a fish stick.

His latest thing is telling anyone who is saying something he doesn't want to hear at the moment, "Don't talk to me, I have a headache." Gee, I wonder where he picked up this phrase?

Besides the obvious, things change

Before my oldest son was born, I remember being eight months pregnant and looking at my husband and saying, "Everything is going to be different." I'm not sure if he knew exactly what I meant at the time, and I'm sure I didn't fully comprehend the depth of that statement. Obvious things would change, but over the years, it's the subtle changes in who I am that have surprised me.

Things that changed when I became Mommy:

• There are never enough hours in the day. It seemed like that before, but it didn't actually become true until I had kids.
• There is no such thing as a sound night's sleep. I'm not sure when the last time I slept all the way through the night was, but it's been a while.
• I worried about my kids' safety before they were born, and then that increased infinitely after they arrived. When they're not right there, being carried inside me, how can I protect them?
• I stopped going around in bare feet in the house. I'm serious - you never know what you're going to step in with kids around.
• I have become extremely jealous of "me" time. I am not a selfish person, but my brain demands a certain amount of time completely alone every day and when I don't get it, I get cranky.
• I learned I am not a patient person. I'm working on that.
• I have come to realize there is always room for one more (And no, I am not pregnant, nor do I plan to be).
• There can never be enough pictures of the kids growing up (This is one I know my Dad knows).
• Perhaps the most surprising thing to me is that there is no formula, no set of things that always work. What works like a charm for one child just makes the other one angry. The only set rule is to try everything until something works.

What surprising change happened to you when you became a parent?

King Tut had nothing on this kid

Have you ever read about boy kings? You know, those small children throughout history who were thrust into positions of power at the age of two or five or ten. I used to think these children must have been so confused and scared. I pitied them. This was before I had children.

I now understand that having the worship, adoration and servitude of others is the normal mode of operations for small boys. There is nothing strange to them about being told, "You are ruler of the kingdom" because, deep down, they all suspect that they are. Everything around them is theirs to command, and woe to those who get in their way!

This morning, before eight o'clock, I was ordered to change the wet sheets, turn on Bob the Builder, remove the wet shirt, get room-temperature lemonade (or "yellow drink," which must never be served cold), heat some fish sticks, and get a clean shirt and pants for His Royal Highness the two-year-old. All of this he ordered without the slightest bit of self-pity.

And lest you think I am the sole recipient of his dictatorial tendencies, while eating his fish sticks he said, "Stop it, I'm eating!" When I asked to whom he addressed his royal tantrum, he replied, "The snot in my nose." You see, even mucous is expected to hearken and obey.