Bad parenting and stinky trash

Yesterday we decided to purchase some beach type shoes for the kids for our upcoming vacation. For this reason, The Man and I took the van to pick the kids up from their bus stops. Again I pulled up to Munchkin's stop and all the vans and SUVs lined the road. The bus pulled up and all the kids, including Munchkin, got off the bus and ran to their cars.

Again I pulled up to Bug's stop and all the vans and SUVs lined the road. The bus pulled up, all the parents jumped from their cars and walked up to the bus to collect their children. Bug got off of the bus last escorted by the bus attendant.

*sigh*

I got out of the van and met them half way.

"You're going to need to walk up to the bus and pick him up. Cars could hit him. Someone could turn that corner right there and hit him."

So, of course, I nodded and consented that from now on, I'll get out of the car and meet him at the bus. Even though I have another child in the car.

Then I considered telling her I have a handicapped child in the car... yeah...

Then I mentally smacked myself upside the head.

But what I really was thinking? Why are we BABYING our kids?! I would hope that Bug, at 8, would have enough good common sense to look to see if any cars are coming. I know I can't speak for other drivers but I would hope that anyone seeing a school bus letting kids off would obey the law and STOP. But I know people pass stopped school buses all the time. And I know that 8 year olds don't pay attention to traffic all the time. And I can see how the combination could be deadly.

So I'll get out of the van and walk up to the bus and baby my son. Hopefully he'll learn to cross a street by himself before he turns 30.

I get to wear my irresponsible bad mom badge again. Yay.

In odd news, last night when we returned home from a late Brownie meeting, we were greeted by our trash can sitting right next to our mailbox. Not the new trash can we just purchased to replace the trash cans that were stolen. Nope, one (not both) of the ones that were stolen was sitting there next to our mailbox.

And here's the kicker.

It still had our trash in it.

The Man said he feels like he needs to give his trash can a bath.

Any theories on that? Cause I'm plum out. The trash does not appear to be tampered with... but then again, who really knows? If someone was going for identity theft I'm sort of snickering at them for picking our trash. We don't ever throw that stuff away anyhow, so I doubt they would have gotten any information.

It was the summer of '69

Today's Sincerely 'Fro Me To You post comes to you direct for 1969. I wouldn't make my presence known to my family for another 8 years, but I've heard so many stories about this time in my family's existance that I almost feel like I was there.

It was this year, I've heard, that my mom and dad packed up their two little girls and traveled clear across the country. In the summer of 1969 my dad was a dapper young man of 26 and my mom was a fresh faced girl of 23. Their little girls were my sisters B1 and B2 who were 3 and 2.

They traveled across the country from Florida to California or maybe from somewhere else, I don't know, they were driving a lot, and they decided to stop at the Grand Canyon.

Only the approach to the Grand Canyon was nothing like what we would do today with our GPS sattelites and online driving directions. No, they had a map. A map that my 23 year old mom read while my 26 year old dad drove. In a car with a bad transmission.

So they wound their way up and down roads and found themselves here, at the edge of the Grand Canyon.

When I look at this picture I always think of how fresh my mom looks. How young and beautiful she is. Her smile lights up the picture. I'm amazed how she looks perfect for 1969 and yet still perfect for today.

My dad looks like he stepped out of a Beverly Cleary novel. No, not one of the Ramona books... more like Jean & Johnny. Didn't you all read that as a kid, too? I'm not sure why B1 has no shirt on under her jumper... I can only guess it was because it was probably 102 degrees in their car with no air conditioning in the middle of the desert. I'm also unsure as to why my mom cut their hair so short. I suppose it was for ease of care.

About 13 years later my mom would chop my hair in a similar fashion and I would spend the next 5 years explaining to well meaning strangers that I was a girl because they wouldn't let my pierce my ears. But that's a topic for another entry.

For more Sincerely 'Fro Me To You posts, check out We are THAT Family!

Surgery Update

We waited forever for Goober's surgery yesterday. Poor little man hadn't eaten for over 12 hours and I had to watch him like a hawk. He managed to sneak 1 piece of popcorn by me but the nurse didn't seem very concerned with that.

When we got to the Surgery Center Goober was not happy to have to take off all of his clothes and put on the hospital gown. I guess no one's really pleased to have to do that, even when they're only 5.

He was a little nervous, but mostly remained the little champ we know him to be. He did not cry, he asked a couple of times if anything would hurt, and he was mostly quiet and thoughtful while everyone talked and buzzed about him.

Once he was in surgery I was a bit of a wreck. I tried to busy myself by filling out the invitations for my BFF's upcoming baby shower but I couldn't think. The Man kindly made me a cup of coffee which I proceeded to spill all over the place and then burn the crap out of my mouth on. I then locked myself in the little bathroom and cried for a minute while I got myself together.

Before very long the surgeon came out and told us everything had gone great and gave us all of our instructions and we were allowed back to see him.

I went back first and Goober was awake but very groggy. Once I promised him I would not leave his side again, he fell back asleep.

A little after 5 the nurse began disconnecting him from machines and the IV and he woke up.

After a little orange Gatorade he was wide awake and ready to get his clothes on and get out of there.

Today he's hopped up on Tylenol and watching every Disney movie available to us. Thank goodness it's over.

I think I'm more worn out than he is

Thanks to everyone who sent their positive thoughts and prayers out to Goober today. I'm happy to say he made it through his ordeal just fine and is now home in Mommy and Daddy's bed watching Spongebob and coloring in brand new coloring books with brand new crayons. I'll post more detail later... we're all exhausted around here. :)

Nothing to eat or drink? Not even Benadryl?

It's always helpful to read the comments section of posts. Today I learned by reading Dawn's post, that if my toddler ever shoves anything up his or her nose I can plug the other side of his or her nose and blow a large puff of air into his or her mouth, therefore shoving the offending object out by forced air. Who knew? I no longer have a toddler, but I'm sure I will have one or five more in my care at some point in the future. If only my sister had known this trick a few months ago when my niece put a "princess bead" up her nose.

I think I've mentioned before that today is the day that my baby will have surgery. Me, worried? Never!

At this point I'm more worried about the doctor's orders that Goober eat or drink nothing, NOT EVEN WATER from 6 AM this morning until we go into the surgery center at 1:30. The other day when I received those orders I had a brilliant idea. I would keep Goober up as late as I possibly could and therefore he would sleep most of the morning away.

I know, I'm a genius.

So last night I declared that it would be Goober and Mommy night. I left The Man at home with Bug and Munchkin and I picked Goober up from pre school a little after 5. We perused his school book fair a bit, made a small selection and then headed over to my mom and dad's house. I dropped Goober with my mom for an hour while I met my sister at the gym. Mom read him his new books and entertained him with blocks.

Around 7 pm I returned and we all ate some dinner that my dad had picked up. Goober was entertained with a catalog of toys. He pointed to every toy in it that he wanted (all of them... except, oh wait, I already have that one).

At almost 8 we decided to run over to Walmart and pick up some new crayons and coloring books since Goober would be in bed for at least 24 hours after his surgery and might need some entertainment.

Around 8:30 (officially 1/2 hour past bedtime) we stopped into Friendly's where Goober enjoyed two scoops of ice cream and mommy enjoyed coffee.

Pardon my photo quality, I left my camera at home so all pictures are taken with my camera phone.

Next we decided to take in a film at our local cinema. Our feature presentation started at 9:40 so we had some time to kill. Goober enjoyed a bit of "pretend we actually did put quarters in the machine" Dance Dance Revolution.

By quarter after 9 we sauntered over to the refreshment counter and made a selection of giant popcorn and giant Mr. Pibb. It was then time to make sure we got great seats.

Here are the seats that Goober selected. The seats ALL the way at the top of the theater. I wonder how much my three times a week workouts are doing for me since I was positively breathless once we reached the top. Perhaps I should lay off the Twizzlers.

Surprise, surprise! We had the theater all to ourselves. I guess Igor doesn't sell too many tickets at 9:40 on a Monday night.

The movie was okay. A "wait till it comes out on DVD" flick at best.

Goober started to fall asleep about an hour in. I had to wake him up and hold his attention.

As we left the theater he got a sort of second wind. So at quarter after 11 we stopped at the playground! After 15 minutes of swings and chasing each other around I declared that the playground was kind of spooky even though it was well lit and decided we should leave.

We stopped at Walgreens on the way home so I could pick up deoderant. No one likes a smelly mommy. As I perused the facial moisturizers with SPFs of 30, Goober announced loudly that he was tired and hungry.

Officially making me appear to be the terrible mother who had her 5 year old out at almost midnight and hadn't fed him.

When we arrived home just after midnight, The Man's brother was here and provided more entertainment. I managed to give Goober a bath before passing out around 1:30 AM. Goober was still awake playing with the men.

I fell asleep knowing he would soundly sleep until at least 10.

He was up at 7:45 AM.

He's now entertaining himself by spinning in an office chair.

PS - If you haven't already, please take a moment to vote for October's Little Fish! Thanks!

Look! A Diversion!

Today's the last day Goober will have his "outie"... tomorrow he's having his surgery.

I said I wasn't worried about it.

I am.

I can't help it.

I know I'm being silly.

Today is Anne of Cleves birthday. She is my favorite of all of Henry's wives.

The week in review

I'm not much for getting all fixed up to take the kids to school in the morning. Before Goober was going to school all I had to do was open the automatic slidey door on the minivan and wave bye as Munchkin and Bug scampered out the door. Now I have to actually get out of the car and walk Goober in and sign my name on a little form. So people see me now.

I'm still not so great at this. Most days I manage to put on somewhat respectable clothing and a bra and brush my hair. Not so much this Monday.

I woke up late and was in a bit of a hurry so I pulled on a pair of sweat pants and threw on a tee shirt and flip flops. What can I say? Style is my middle name.

We pulled into the parking lot of the pre school and I slid open the door that shows the rest of the world the mess that lies inside the minivan. Munchkin sat in the seat right next to the door and Goober climbed over her, smacking her in the face with his lunchbox, as a shiny SUV pulled into the space next to us.

A nicely dressed young woman got out and came around to the other side of the SUV to let her son out of the car.

"JOHNNY!" Goober exclaimed upon seeing the child.

"MRS. ARNOLD!" Munchkin exclaimed upon seeing the woman.

And there I was, face to face with Munchkin's 2nd grade teacher who I have not yet had the opportunity to meet in person. With my hair in a scraggly pony tail, a faded black tee shirt from the House of Blues in Las Vegas, bright pink sweat pants, orange flip flops, no makeup and no bra. My mother would have killed me.

***

Tuesday Goober had a doctor's appointment to get MORE shots because I was so significantly behind on getting him his shots that he had to get more as soon as he turned 5. Last month when we went to the doctor Goober really didn't know what to expect with the shots and he sweetly trusted me when I said "It'll hurt a little, but it will be no big deal."

Evidently Goober didn't think shots were no big deal. As soon as the same sweet nurse who had given him the shots last month came at him again with those needles he began to fight. And scream. And flail his body around in a violent rage. The Man was with us. It took both The Man and me to hold Goober down and the nurse to give him the three shots as quickly as she could.

I cried. Goober cried. I think The Man may have wanted to cry.

***

Wednesday morning is trash day around these parts. That means The Man rolls our giant industrial sized trash cans to the street every Tuesday night at some ridiculously late hour and the trash men come in the wee hours of the morning to empty them.

The Man and I were going to help his cousin move Wednesday morning so we all piled in the car for the morning routine. That's when he noticed.

"Where are my trashcans?" asked The Man, in a bewildered tone.

They were nowhere. Nowhere to be found.

Someone stole our yucky smelly outside trash cans. STOLE THEM. I sort of didn't believe it. As we were driving home that afternoon I fully expected to see them there.

Of course, there they are right where they should be. I imagined myself saying. We must have overlooked them.

Overlooked them... two giant 65 gallon trash cans.

Nope, they were gone. Someone must have come by and stolen them in the time between when the garbage men came at the crack of dawn and when we were leaving for school at 7 AM (not much after the crack of dawn, in my opinion). Either that or they stole our TRASH, too!

We had to go buy another one so we'd have a place to put the vast quantities of waste our family produces. That was fun.

***

Thursday we found out that Munchkin's teacher (the one I casually met on Monday) was being "let go due to budget cuts" and that her class would be absorbed by the other 2nd grade teachers at her school. Munchkin told us that her teacher had left the class in the middle of the day on Wednesday and since then they had a substitute.

So the school board fires teachers in the middle of the school day in the middle of the school week like that due to budget cuts? I don't know... it seems fishy.

At least I may have a chance to make a better first impression on her new teacher.

***

Friday was political email day. Jenny sent me the link for this site, though, that I think will be helping me make a decision over the next two months. It seems a whole lot less agenda laden than most things I've seen so far.

Then I read Shannon's post about how to properly handle the whole "politics discussion" as a polite southern lady and I literally laughed out loud. Though I wasn't aware that "socialist" was considered name calling. I mean, if you ask my McCain bumper sticker toting family, I'm sure they'd call it an insult... I just didn't realize everyone did.

And that's my week in review. :)

And then my heart burst right there in room 607...

Last night was open house at Bug's school. Being his first year at this school and in the gifted program I was a little unsure as to what to expect when I got there. I arrived right on time at 6:30 to find the door to the classroom locked and the inside dark. Luckily there was another mom outside who informed me it didn't start until 7:00. I'm sure that memo is at the bottom of Bug's backpack or perhaps floating around his school bus.

So I waited in the dense South Florida humidity with this other mom who was somewhat friendly but mostly busied herself with her cell phone. Still, I was thankful someone was nice to me.

At 6:45 another mom and her (very quiet) husband showed up. She obviously knew cell phone mom and they seemed very happy to see each other and instantly began asking how their kids were. Gossip about other moms, the gifted program at another elementary school, and past teachers ensued. I half-listened and half-wondered if all the parents would already know each other from having their kids in gifted since kindergarten and I would be somehow trying to join this elite gifted parents club without knowing all the rituals and jargon.

Luckily the classroom door opened and we were allowed in. Before we got all settled in, Bug's teacher pulled me aside and asked to speak with me privately.

Oh, no. I know Bug's been having problems getting his work done and she's going to tell me that maybe the gifted program isn't right for him and I'm going to have to put him back in regular school and he's going to suffer some incredible self-esteem problems because of it!

When we sat down in a darkened neighboring classroom, Mrs. Teacher's eyes started to well up. I sat there, horrified, wondering what she would say.

"I've been teaching for so many years, and every once in a while a child comes along that touches my heart in such a way that I can't explain it. I love your son. He is an amazing boy and he is so smart!"

I watched as tears spilled on to this woman's face. This woman who I have met quickly once before and who is having such strong emotions about my first born son.

"I know he is having problems finishing his work. He is always the last to finish and writing is hard for him. I asked him in the beginning of the year what other teachers did for him when he took so long to write and he told me..."

More tears.

"He told me that they just screamed at him."

This is right. His 1st and 2nd grade teachers both screamed at him and we had many a parent/teacher conference about Bug's inability to finish essays in a reasonable amount of time. It was incredibly frustrating and difficult for his teachers, Bug, and me.

"I promised him I would never scream at him. We will get through this. Bug is right where he should be."

I could have hugged that woman right there... and I'm not sure why I didn't, actually. I have never been so happy to have a teacher in my child's life. I feel like finally, my son who has struggled with school and who obviously thinks differently than most other kids and who shocks me with his verbal skills and analytical brain, he has found a safe place and a teacher that will do what needs to be done to help him.

It was the last year I was really a dork... I think...

I haven't completely humiliated myself yet here for Sincerely 'Fro Me To You. I don't have a whole bunch of pictures from my past and the ones I did happen to have ganked from my mom's house before the fire are typically the pictures I liked... so there weren't a whole lot of really embarrassing ones to choose from.

That is until my sister gave me a framed picture of our family from a long time ago. It sure was interesting to look at. It was before The Man, before four of the youngest generation were even thought of, before my other sister's current husband joined our family and when her ex-husband was still a part of it.

However, it wasn't that picture that I'm posting. It was the picture that my sister had put behind that picture in the frame. I don't think she realized it was back there and, honestly, I'm not sure what possessed me to open up the frame and see if there were any other pictures stuffed in there.

But I did. And there it was. The subject of today's Sincerely 'Fro Me To You post.

The year was 1989. The first Bush had just taken office, the Cold War was ending, and Paula Abdul was rocking the charts with Straight Up.

I was in 7th grade.

I remember that Guess tee shirt. It was my favorite and I was proud to wear it on picture day. I'm sure my mom was so proud. Don't you love how I had those sleeves rolled up? I bet my jeans were pegged, too. Most girls had their bangs perfectly curled upward in 1989. I, however, didn't learn how to make my super thin hair do that until 8th grade. It was quite a sore spot for me, actually.

But wait... there's more.

Seeing this picture inspired me to dig out my 7th grade yearbook. I had friends on the yearbook staff in middle school. Friends who I still know to this day. Friends who should have known better than to publish a picture such as this in a book that would be looked at for years to come.

You might wonder what I'm doing there. I'm doing the chicken dance. At an assembly. With my principal. I love how I wrote "stupid picture" across the front of my shirt.

As if I had to point that out.

It is possibly the most humiliating photograph ever taken of me. Definitely the most humiliating photograph taken of me and then distributed to over 300 of my peers.

I'm not sure what inspired me to actually do such a thing.

Oh yes, I do remember. I won a Milli Vanilli tape for doing it.

That's right. Blame It On The Rain, peeps.

For more humiliation, check out We are THAT Family.

And don't forget to vote for October's Little Fish before you go!

Bacon is the suck - Piggy Free BLT WINS!

So I went through a vegetarian phase. I still try to lower my meat intake dramatically but I'm not a vegetarian anymore. However, there is one thing I took from my veggie days that I will not be giving up.

That's right... I'm kicking regular bacon to the curb. I hate making bacon. First of all it smells up my entire house no matter how high I put that darned stove vent thing on. Second of all it spits hot grease at me while I'm cooking it. And third of all I NEVER get it just right. It's always undercooked or burnt. I'm a bacon failure.

That's why I'm in love with Smart Bacon. It cooks on the stove in a pan in like one minute. Or less. It's crazy fast. And there is NO GREASE.

In fact, when I take it out of the pan you'd be hard pressed to even realize the pan is dirty.

Yes, I wash the pan afterward, geesh.

Even The Man, bacon connoisseur, agreed that my BLT tasted pretty good for "that hippie stuff"... that's quite an accomplishment. I haven't convinced him to make a complete switch, though. Maybe some day. Probably not, though.

You can even go crazy and use vegan mayonnaise (which is pretty tasty, if I do say so myself) and have yourself a completely vegan sandwich. It's superfantastic. :)

That's what works for me!

For more Works for me Wednesday posts, check out Rocks in my Dryer!

And don't forget to vote for October's Little Fish! :)

Little Fish Voting

Let's hope this poll thing works!

We have three Little Fish Nominees in the running for October's Little Fish award. Please take a moment to check out each of their fabulous blogs and choose the one you think is most worthy. :)

The three nominees are:
Antithete

Stop Screaming I'm Driving

Love Well

Please vote here!



If you're reading in a reader I think you have to click over to vote! :)

The poll will be open through October 6th and the winner will be announced on the 7th. Nominations are currently open for November's Fish!

They Don't Call Me a Spaz for Nothin...

Did you know that if the tooth fairy is overbooked and can't make it to your house at night, she might just stop in while you're at school?

I know. Pretty darned cool of her, isn't it?

OH! And P.S. if you have anyone you'd like to nominate for the Little Fish award, please do so asap! Voting will begin tomorrow and so far there are only two nominees. :)

5 is so NOT a baby

Today is Goober's 5th birthday. He's the first of his pre school class to turn 5 and he is just SO proud. I, on the other hand, am a wreck. He's my youngest, my last, and he's definitely no baby anymore. There will be tears shed today by me.

I dropped him at school this morning, 18 Spiderman cupcakes in hand. Tonight we'll have a party at my parents and we'll continue the weekend as an all out birthday extravaganza, parties all over the place! Pictures will follow.

But for now? A Goober montage.

This is the first picture we ever took of him with our own camera. It's actually a camera phone picture from The Man's phone at the time. He stayed in that Boppy for a good two months as it seemed to be the only place he'd sleep.

Here he is at his first visit to the park where he really got to play. He loved the swing. The wind in his face thrilled him!

One he was on his feet we were in for trouble. As a mom we're always encouraging our babies to take those first steps. What are we thinking?

Goober has always had such an animated personality. He's a comedian and has been trying to get us all to laugh since he could first laugh himself.

When he was about three we couldn't EVER go to a restaurant without him hiding under the table. He loved to go down there when we weren't paying close enough attention and pop out to surprise us.

Always inventive, always entertaining.

He has no problems making new friends, adults, kids, animals, whatever. He's the first to introduce himself in any situation and has no fear at all of anyone. If his outgoing personality keeps up, Goober is sure to go places. Goober for President, 2040! He's gonna change the world. :)

Made to be a Granddaddy

Today's Sincerely 'Fro Me To You picture is one that has been taken at least ten times before. My dad, standing at the edge of the Atlantic ocean with one of his grandchildren, just taking it in.

I'm fairly certain my sisters could pull out several shots just like this one with their own kids and every single one of them makes us all smile.

My dad lives for his grandchildren. I'm not sure there has ever been a man who is willing to do more for his grandchildren. He bought a condo on the beach so they would always have memories of the beach with their family. He bought a house in the mountains so they could remember family vacations in such a breath taking location. He takes us on amazing tropical vacations every year just so we can all be together and so his grandchildren have incredible childhood memories.

He would stop at nothing for them.

Goober's birthday is Friday and today I called my Dad to ask him if he had gotten a present for him yet. We'd gone to Toys R' Us today and after we had gotten some things for him from us, I noticed something else I thought Goober would like and wanted to give him an idea if he needed one.

But of course, Dad had already gone shopping. As I listened to my dad read off a list of at least four perfect for Goober things he had purchased (including the very LAST Wall-E remote control robot that I know he's just going to blow his little five year old lid off for), I couldn't help but smile at how much he loves to spoil these kids.

I sure hope they learn to appreciate him some day.

For more great Sincerely 'Fro Me To You posts, check out We are THAT Family!

PS - Whoa, I'm really getting sappy lately, aren't I? Hopefully the wit and sarcasm will return soon...

Sure, it's unconventional... but so are we!

As my blog name implies I am a Spaz. I mean, seriously, I just never can seem to get it all together. I forget everything, I'm severely disorganized, and I'm consistently late. It's really bad. It has gotten to the point that when my family plans an activity at 10:00 they tell me it starts at 9:30. No joke.

I have had to drive Bug to school on more than one occasion since school started less than a month ago because we missed the bus in the morning and I've picked Goober up from his preschool late twice. In a month. Because I'm a basket case.

So you can imagine how school mornings might go for us here at home. You'd think maybe my kids would be able to make up for some of my failings and get themselves dressed and out of bed on time but unfortunately being really disorganized seems to be passed on to children.

Who would have thought?

I know, I know... you're saying I should make lunches and lay out clothes before I go to bed because then my morning will be so much easier. Except for the fact that at 10 PM I realized that the kids didn't have enough clean socks and I had to do a load of laundry which I will only be awake long enough to put in the dryer and go to bed and I can't find Goober's lunch box ANYWHERE and I have a suspicion that it might be located in the mini van that The Man has taken out for the evening. Oh, and I think we're out of bread. Yeah... see? That's my life.

I have figured out one way to help me, though. One little thing that has so far made my mornings go so much easier.

I have not allowed my children to put away their school uniforms. Nope. Their dresser drawers only hold play clothes. (Actually, I'm kind of laughing. I think their dresser drawers hold half eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and perhaps some underwear they've outgrown and sweaters that we never wear in Florida. But you don't need to know all that.)

Their school clothes are not so neatly folded in a laundry basket that currently is sitting in our living room but will some day have a home of it's own. I'm pretty sure I'll be keeping cub scout and brownie stuff in this basket as well.

Now I don't have to lay out their clothes in the evenings because they're all right there in one basket. All the little collared polo shirts and khaki shorts and pants and all the socks. Nothing gets lost in their rooms and I can constantly see exactly where we are on inventory. I know every morning if Munchkin is running low on lace trimmed socks or Bug has no more navy blue collared shirts and I know what laundry needs to be done that day.

When they come home, their school clothes go in a specified laundry basket for school clothes in the laundry room so they all get washed separate from all the other clothes. Now I actually have time in the mornings to guzzle a cup of coffee before we leave for the bus stop!

It may not be the way my mom would have done it, but it works for us!

For more Works for me Wednesday posts, check out Rocks in my Dryer!

Back away from the keyboard and no one gets hurt

I've sort of been neglecting my blog lately. I realized that Domestic Spaz was beginning to become a bit of an obsession with me. I stopped working and started reading and writing and loving it. Everything in my life became "blog worthy" or "not blog worthy" and I became agitated if I realized I'd forgotten my camera at home.

I had to step back a bit.

I had to tell myself it's okay if I don't post a blog entry every single day and it's okay if I don't post about every little thing that happens in my life.

It took a few days of backing off but I think I feel a lot healthier about my blog now. :) The other day when we went through the drive thru at Burger King and there were two horses in the line behind us and I couldn't get a good picture of them to post on the blog I absolutely did not have a conniption about it.

It really happened, folks. You'll just have to trust me.

I hope to find some sort of balance in my life that will allow me to accomplish all the things I need to get done every day and still find time to blog and read blogs. Some day... some day when I figure out how to get myself together.

What kind of title do you give to a post like this?

I posted about Julian back in December before anyone really read my blog. I still can't believe how touched I was and still am by his story. Maybe because my Goober is only a few months younger than Julian, maybe because they both loved Cars and Lighting McQueen. Maybe because anyone, parent or not, would have no choice but to let such a beautiful light into their heart. Julian left our world in January of this year and Mimi, his mother, continues to update his Care Page and continues to fight. I am awed by her strength. Truly just awed.

Because when I read about Julian, when I see pictures of Julian, when I hear Mimi's words about Julian and the battle they waged with cancer my heart crumbles. I simply can't stop crying. I simply can't fight back those tears, that lump in my throat, that searing pain and anger at the injustice that is cancer.

I want to do something and then I realize that there just isn't much that can be done. Other than telling everyone about Julian, other than encouraging other people to read about him, to read about all victims of pediatric cancer. It is gut wrenching.

And here I sit, with my three beautiful healthy children who have barely known the pain of a common cold, while Mimi goes on fighting for Julian and every other child who has to endure this battle that no child should ever have to endure.

Dawn posted today about the Stand Up 2 Cancer telethon that was on television the other night. I had no idea it had even been on and that Julian had been shown. Check out her blog for the link to it. It is truly powerful.

What is "I'm not that old, Alex"

If you watch Jeopardy, you know that they're currently running the College Champions. In the past I've always sort of liked it when they did college and high school tournaments because I would occasionally actually know an answer (question).

Last night while sitting at my mom and dad's house (avid Jeopardy watchers) there was a category selected called "Pop's Music" with the premise being that all of the answers pertained to music these kids parents would listen to. These college kids.

And I knew every - single - one.

The Beastie Boys, Flava Flav, Led Zeppelin...

How is it that my music is actually considered some college kid's dad's music?

Sometimes life is just a kick in the mouth.

I think it was called goldenrod...

Today's Sincerely 'Fro Me To You post is brought to you by the letter O for "OMGosh why is that baby on the counter" and the color yellow for "what the heck was the 70s thinking when they painted a kitchen appliance that horrid color"!

There I am with my hair in a kerchief at 2 years old. Why was my hair in a kerchief? I have no idea. Perhaps I wanted to look more like Aunt Jemima? Maybe I was spending the day doing hard housework?

Apparently I was trapped against my will on the counter and quite horrified. Perhaps I was just horrified about those wretched cabinets or maybe that scary mushroom canister. Who knows?

I just wanted to show off those cute little legs.

For more Sincerely 'Fro Me To You posts, check out We Are THAT Family!

Little Fish Changes

Hey y'all. I went ahead and changed the whole Little Fish nomination and voting process. From now on it'd be handy for me if everyone nominated to the same post and I'll have a regular old poll on there for voting.

Little Fish will be awarded once a month on the first Tuesday of the month.

You can read more about it all at this post and nominate some bloggers there, too!

You can always find this post from the footer at each and every one of my posts or in the Little Fish corner found in my sidebar. :)

Those gifted kids are big babies!

Here in the middle of the third week of school I think I've finally got a bit of a routine going as far as transportation goes.

7:15 AM - Watch Bug board school bus
7:20 AM - Drop Goober at Pre K
7:25 AM - Drop Munchkin at school
7:35 AM - Home and back in bed starting work

The afternoon is a little more chaotic.

2:15 PM - Walk 1/2 mile to Munchkin's bus stop
2:25 PM - Grab Munchkin and walk 1/2 mile + 20 feet to Bug's bus stop
2:30 PM - Wave as Bug's bus passes us on the street
2:35 PM - Arrive at Bug's stop and wait as bus loops around entire huge neighborhood and gets back to his stop because school district doesn't believe an 8 year old can walk 20 feet on a sidewalk to his home all by himself. Whatever.
2:45 PM - Melt into pool of sweat on sidewalk. Get Bug and walk the 20 feet home as a group.

Then we do our homework and I clean up the house a bit and before I know it it's 5:00 and time to drive up to the pre-school and grab Goober. At home I throw together dinner and we all eat.

I'm sort of starting to see some organization here! Exciting, indeed.

Today, I was feeling a little under the weather and I took the van to pick the kids up at their bus stops.

Both stops are pretty active ones. Traffic is fairly light and similar at both stops and about 10 to 15 kids get off at both stops. Both stops are for elementary school children.

At Munchkin's stop all the SUVs and minivans line up on both sides of the road, the bus pulls up, the parents all sit in the vehicles with them running, and the kids go right to their respective cars and get in all by themselves.

At Bug's stop all the SUVs and minivans line up on both sides of the road, the bus pulls up, the parents all spring joyously from their vehicles and grab their children by the hand and walk them to their cars making sure each child is buckled securely before leaving the stop.

I was sort of surprised when all the parents got out of their cars to walk their children from the bus. These are not kindergartners, either. Most kids appear to be at least in 2nd grade or older. The difference, however, is that these children are all in the gifted program.

At first I figured it was just a product of parents being sheep. You know, one mom got out of the van to run to the bus and all other parents followed suit because we all have that innate fear inside of us that we're not doing a good job and that we need to be veritable June Cleavers.

But then I wondered if it had something to do with the type of parents that end up with gifted children. Are parents of gifted kids more coddling than parents of non-gifted kids? Are parents of gifted kids more protective? Are they better? Are they more hands on?

I'm not more of a coddler and I'm definitely not more protective. I'm of the mind that if they're screaming they're still breathing. Does that make me a better or worse parent? I don't know... I think it just means I'm raising my children more independently. I hope that they don't expect to be babied for every little boo boo they get in life, yanno?

So Bug ran to the car all by himself. He made it just fine.

It's a novel little navel

Hey y'all! I've posted over at Mommy Matter today about how my kids are growing up at an insane rate of speed. I'd be thrilled if you'd head over there and check out the site! Mommy Matter is a fantabulous community. If you haven't perused the site, you don't know what you're missing!

In other news, today we scheduled Goober's umbilical hernia surgery. My baby's going under the knife.

He's going to hate doctors by the time this month is over. Not only did he have to get four shots just last month, but now he has to go back in two weeks for more shots and then surgery on the 23rd! How do you tell a five year old that doctors are there to help us when all they do is cause my poor little guy pain?

Goober is brave, though. He's excited that his button is going to look just like everyone else. I'm sort of sad, though. I always thought his little hernia was just a cute little outie.

And then the doctor said "See how that's blue right there?" (referring to a little spot on his cute little outie that I've always assumed was a vein) "That's poop!"

Orly? Somehow Goober's little outie just got a little less cute. Slice him up, Doc!

Oh, but I jest.

Even though this little "procedure" takes only about 15 minutes and Goober can come home with us after a few hours of recovery time and will probably even be cleared to go to school the next day, there's just something a little nerve wracking about handing my child, my baby, my youngest and last over to the capable hands of a surgeon. Oh I know, it's not a big deal and he'll be fine in no time at all. I know it's so much better to do this type of thing now than to wait until he's an adult because his recovery time is faster and all. I know he's a super healthy little guy and this surgeon is absolutely wonderful and he'll be fine.

Of course he'll be fine. He'll be better than fine. He'll have a new button!

I can't help but worry. I'm not so worried about him during the surgery or during the recovery time at the surgical center. It's when he gets home that I'm going to freak. I mean, can't they please keep him overnight for observation? Shouldn't professionals be handling his recovery? I'm expected to bring him home to this chaos and keep him quiet and calm for days while his siblings jump around and wrestle and create general mayhem?

Are you guys thinking it's time for Benedryl or is that just me?

Little Fish Award Time!

This week there were two amazing nominees for the award.

Be The Cake
and
Domestic Accident

It was again a tough decision. It absolutely always is. I am amazed at how many incredible blogs there are out there!

Domestic Accident is a laugh out loud funny type of blog. I mean, who can't relate to a mom with a thing for adolescent TV and rags on her man's tardiness in finishing home projects? It's definitely an add to reader type of blog!

But it was Be The Cake that stole our hearts and edged out the competition for the award. This blog has heart and humor, two things that put a nice bloggy smile on our faces during the reading. Besides, everything is better with cake!

Congratulations Be The Cake! Here's your badge!


<a href="http://slackermomof3.blogspot.com/2008/09/little-fish-award-time.html" target="_blank"><img src="http://domesticspaz.com/blog/goldfish.jpg" /></a>

There are going to be some changes to the Little Fish award! Previously the award has been given weekly, but that is going to change. The award will now be given on the first Tuesday of every month. I am also looking into changing the nomination and voting process to include more bloggers!

For now, nominees can still be made to this post.

Qualifications for the Little Fish award:
1. Nominees should not be featured on Alltop
2. Nominees should have an Alexa ranking of 1,000,000 or higher. (Here's a quick explanation.)

If you're not sure if a blog qualifies, nominate them anyway! We'll check for you. :)

If a blog has already been nominated previously and did not win, nominate them again! If you won the Little Fish award, we hope you'll wear your badge proudly on your blog to spread the word about the award. We also hope you'll nominate some of your favorite lesser known blogs.

Nominate blogs to the comments section of this post or tweet them to me on twitter!