A Wedding, A Yacht and Lobster Murder. Oh My!

     Last weekend finally dawned the date of my sister's wedding. Not one person involved will dispute me when I say it was a rough few months. My sister just wanted the entire thing over with by the end.
    
     The day before the wedding was rocky, to say the least. However, the day of the wedding dawned, and the weather was perfect, and by the time everyone was finished with hair and makeup, people seemed to have relaxed a little.
     I have never had my makeup done. It took about half an hour, and layer after layer after layer was applied. When the tech handed me a mirror, to check it out, I jumped a little. It looked exactly like the makeup on a corpse laid out in a funeral home. At a distance, it looked great! Up close, when you don't expect it, it was startling.

     I am not a fan of "Selfies" and tend to roll my eyes a little when I see people post selfie after selfie after selfie - seriously - if you are the center of attention with your kid in the lower corner of the pic, and you're all #isn'tmykidadorbs? NO ONE believes this is about your adorbs kid, and EVERYONE knows you expect at least 40 "OH MY GOSH!!! YOU ARE SOOOOO GORGEOUS!!!!" replies.
 
     That being said: I posted a bunch of selfies on Facebook after the hair and makeup portion of the wedding events. Because, seriously, with 47 layers of makeup on, that looked decent (from a distance!) and the next chance of having that kind of make up being when I am laid out and people are commenting on the horrendous outfit Bearded Man is bound to pick out for me, I wanted to immortalize it while I could. I NEVER look that put together. My hair and makeup routine takes less than 3 minutes in the morning. I have to get myself, 4 kids, 2 dogs and a cat up, fed and ready for the day. And spend at least 5 minutes trying to convince Bearded Man to get out of bed. So. I took pictures, so I can see how I COULD look if I ever become wealthy and have the time and money to have 47 layers of makeup applied to my face every day. I wouldn't be able to see to enjoy it anyway. I discovered my glasses sink about 1/4" into it, when I tried to wear them.

     After hair and makeup, it was time for mani pedi's. I have not had either since I treated myself after nursing graduation several years ago.

     I discovered that, no matter how many times you scrub and shower, that, the effects of gardening in bare feet are discernible. I discovered that I felt bad for sitting like a princess in a massage chair, while a slim Oriental Man pampered my feet. I apologized several times, completely uncomfortable, thinking about this poor little guy, crouched in this uncomfortable position, rubbing my feet and legs until he finally made bottle gestures and inquired if I was drinking.

     Once at the wedding site, things progressed well. All of my kids were in the wedding. I didn't think too hard about George's behavior, until we were all under the gazebo, and my boys were completely unreachable by myself, all the way over on the other side, near the Groom's men. And I watched helplessly, as George kicked Joe repeatedly. Until Joe retaliated. They began to kick each other, with a few well aimed slugs in there, too, while George grinned smugly at me. I am sure every single picture captures me scowling at my boys and shaking my head threateningly at them.

     There was an awkward moment after someone handed me a glass of wine. I had been standing with a group of people and we were laughing very hard, and I had taken approximately 4 sips of wine. The preacher pulled me aside and inquired if I was okay and if I had maybe drank a little too  much? I swear, I was not NEARLY as obnoxious as that sounds... I had caught up with a person I knew from my brothers' baseball days, and they were asking what my married name was now..... It went downhill from there. We were ALL laughing. However, I am pretty sure the preacher was expecting bad behavior from me, judging from a few comments made here and there. Water under the bridge and all that.... For goodness' sake, I was the picture of decent propriety.

     Bearded Man has made Craig's List his best friend. Yesterday, I received a picture of a 1964 rusted travel trailer. As in; one of those little trailers you see in the Westerns where a bad guy lives? I swear, I didn't tell him that if he brought it home, he could plan on living in it. But I wanted to.
     Today, I received a text full of pictures of a 17' boat on a trailer, hooked to the back of his truck. He found it on the "Free" page, and had dreams of a yacht. It evidently  requires a lot of work and a  $5,000. engine, and will undoubtedly end up rotting in the (newly cleaned out) driveway for the next year. If he manages to get it home in one piece, it should be parked semi permanently in the driveway by morning. The challenge of keeping the kids off  and out of it should prove interesting.

     Pretty much that's it. Currently, we are hoping to get started with painting the house within the next few weeks. Also, the brother of a friend of mine is going to New Hampshire on July 3rd, to get lobsters, fresh out of the ocean. I have never tried lobster, and thought this might be a good opportunity to do so, so, decided to get in on that, and buy lobsters, and invite  people over, and have lobster and chicken wings for the 4th of July. I have never tasted lobster, and certainly never cooked a lobster, and obviously, am in completely over my head, deciding to take on cooking LOTS of lobsters for lots of people, all at once. The chef next door told Jasin we needed to just boil them till they are red. I was all "WHAT? Aren't they ALREADY red???!!!!" While trying REALLY hard not to think about wrestling lots of live angry lobsters into boiling water without myself or the kids crying. Honestly, this has the potential to cause trauma and the need for therapy. Or at least the best family story for generations to come. (Seriously. If anyone out there has the slightest clue what they're doing, I will buy your lobster, if you will come over and murder every one's dinner and subsequently cook it.....Thanks!)

    

MOVE!

      I recently posted on Facebook that I feel like hyperventilating when I see my calendar, currently. Pretty much, we are booked through June.

     This past weekend, in the midst of the 1001 things we were scheduled for, we had some downtime, while we waited for the kids to finish up their last day of Sunday School for the year. We decided to drive around Cuba Lake, and clock the distance, as I have decided I must ride my bike around it. It's about 5 miles, and, if you ride counter clock around it, there is more downhill than uphill. So, I can feel all good about myself for riding my bike 5 miles around the lake, and you know, not die. The thought being that: If I did not die, then, the kids probably wouldn't either, so, after my trial run around the lake, then I could drag the older kids. My goal being at least one very active family activity every weekend this summer.
     After all this planning and discussing of long bike rides around the lake, and feeling all "Yes! I have a plan! We will be ACTIVE! I ROCK!" we wandered over to the church to pick up the kids from Sunday School and also attend the Sunday School teacher's meeting for the next School year. For which Bearded Man volunteered me to teach. A group of 7th and 8th graders. Because their teacher quit. Because they are mostly awful.
     While leaning against a wall waiting for my kids, along came this other mom. Wearing Lycra that all coordinated, was skin tight, ear buds dangling around her shoulders, perfect hair, glowing complexion, and magazine perfect husband, who also coordinated, and had perfect hair. They breezily announced they had just run 4 miles, and neither of them had a hair out of place. And, since I am probably going to hell anyway (With this knowledge, SHOULD I be teaching Sunday school? I really think there should probably be people who at least have a sporting chance at heaven, teaching it. Not the resignation of probable eternity being punished by no sleep and Frozen played non stop into infinity ....) I wasn't too surprised by my immediate desire to trip them. But, since we were already at the bottom of the stairs, it wasn't worth the energy to do something that rotten - and in church - but, it probably would have gotten me out of teaching Sunday School. I was told to submit a lesson plan for my class while I contemplated it, and wanted to hyperventilate again.

     In concluding that story: I will probably try to ride my bike around Cuba Lake in the near future. And, I did not trip the perfect couple, so, I hope that counts someplace.

     Continuing on my MOVE theme, We are counting down the days to my sister's wedding. Since I am strictly forbidden by my sister to talk about her or the wedding in any form - even to herself - and Nicole From Sears has now taken over every aspect of the wedding, including the decorating I was supposed to do,  I CAN say that, there is still the possibility that I will come down with some dehabilitating illness, or break a bone, or win a weekend once in a lifetime trip to the Bahamas or get kidnapped by pirates or called into duty as a Secret Agent, or Aliens will abduct me, or all roads leading out of Franklinville will crumble, and I will not be able to go. I am not saying I don't WANT to go, because that isn't nice. I AM saying, all of these things COULD happen at any time. Which would be tragic.

     Also, while we are talking about moving, I recently schlepped unenthusiastically to Kaila's Spanish Club Zumbathon. I was tired, and grouchy and had not had 5 seconds to just sit down after work, and did not want to go. However, Kaila and I are super close, and the thought of letting her down got me in the whole guilt department, so, I went. And I told the sitter that I would be gone an hour, tops. And probably be dead, too. I have never done Zumba. Once, when I was at the YMCA working out, I saw the Zumba people doing their thing and thought there was no way I could do it.
     I did it for TWO WHOLE  HOURS!!! And I LOVED it! That stuff is like crack. It's like, people who have never done it are all, "What is WRONG with you people? GET. A. LIFE." (Well, I was, anyway...) then, you go and do it, and it's like "I WANT TO TELL THE WHOOOOOLE WORLD, HOW AWESOME AND AMAZING ZUMBA IS, AND IT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL I WANT TO DO EVERY DAY, AND ALL I WILL TALK ABOUT EVER EVER AGAIN!!!!!!" And so, once baseball season is over, and I hopefully avoid jail time by not taking out the mom that spends every single game and practice glaring at me and whispering to her friends, I am so going to do Zumba. And, maybe, be able to ride my bike around Cuba Lake Clockwise up hills, too. A girl can dream, anyway.

     So, there is this whole summer planned around moving. Moving at crazy paces every weekend for the million things planned, be it Weddings, First Communions, Birthdays, parties, baseball; whatever.
     There are the bike rides we want to take, the Zumba I want to do, and the walking I do with my tea drinking friend Sue at a truly obscene hour every weekday morning. It seems like it will be a busy summer, and,  hopefully I can come up with a lesson plan for a class full of, by Kaila's description, a large group of Kids headed for certain time in Federal Prisons right out of Juvenile detention. I cannot control my 4 year old in church ("George! STOP acting like Spider Man in church!!" "I am NOT pretending to be Spider Man! I am pretending to be JESUS, and he can spin webs and throw them if he WANTS to!!!" *Sigh*) So, I am unsure of my ability to control a group of what sounds like hardened thugs for 90 minutes once a week. The last teacher sent Kaila to the head of Religious Ed with the message that she was LEAVING, and NOT cleaning out her classroom, on Sunday....

     Wish me luck in all the above endeavors!!!

Giving Your Kid Wings

     Last night, my (almost) 13  year old daughter stumbled off a bus, fresh from Washington DC, right around 11:30.

     This trip was a huge opportunity for her, as one of 10 kids selected from her school to go for 4 days.
     We were up at 4:30 am Mother's Day morning, after 2 days of trying to get my chronically unorganized kid packed and organized. During which I had a taste of what parenting a teen will be like - in that I now have the ability to go all Exorcist and turn my head completely around, while hitting all notes of Operatic range, from shrill soprano to deepest bass. All in one sentence.
    
    On the way to the school to catch the bus, she announced she we were sending her into dangerous areas. If she didn't end  up in a fiery bus collision/explosion, then, there would probably be terrorists, shootings and bombs in Washington.
      She did make it both ways without any explosions, on her bus or any other. Nor were there any shooters, terrorists or bombs in Washington.
     She did threaten to call the manager of the hotel, when the balcony doors would not open, nor the windows. And the view was awful. And there were kids running up and down the hallways making all kinds of racket, and this was unacceptable. The manager has no idea how grateful he should be, that they kept her too busy to call...
     She learned that there are few people in Washington DC that speak English, and even fewer that are nice to school kids.

     She also had a great time. They crammed in so much during their short time in DC! I received excited texts and pictures, and animated phone calls, chronicling all her adventures. She learned a lot, saw a lot, did a lot. I was so glad she had the opportunity.

    The kids were told that this was not in replacement of their school work. They knew going into it that, they were expected in school the day after the trip, and that they would have 4 days of tests and homework to catch up on. Oh yes, and the school concert tonight. And the flowers from their flower sale came in and needed to be handed out today for 2 hours after school. They were all aware of this.

     One mom, however, was not happy about it last night, when the bus arrived. Parents started getting out of their vehicles, to go see their kids, as they stumbled off the bus. The teacher was the first one off, and, out of nowhere, an SUV zoomed through the parking lot, and stomped on the brakes in front of the bus, cutting the kids and their parents off from each other. Kids were getting off the bus, as the mom began to scream at the teacher in the MOST vulgar language, for having the kids  back so late, and expecting so much of them today. She was vicious and mean and rude and nasty. And her son was humiliated. She never even acknowledged him, as, head down, he climbed into the passenger side while she ranted.
     Parents stopped, dumbfounded, and one dad said "Is she SERIOUS?" as the teacher, in exhausted frustration bit his tongue and just tried to let it roll over him.
     Eventually, the screaming stopped, and she stomped on the gas peddle and zoomed back out of the parking lot.
     Kids who had been set to run to their parents stood in confusion, and parents were trying to let the teacher know that we didn't all feel this way. It wasn't like the kids hadn't been told this was how it was going to be.

     Guess what our kids will learn today? They will learn that, sometimes, when you are really really tired, you will still have responsibilities. You will still have obligations. You will need to get it all done. You will not always have someone to bail you out. You may hate every moment of it, but, it has to be done. And on the other side of it, you will feel a huge sense of accomplishment, and a lot of pride in yourself, because, you did it! All on your own, because you can.
     Some day, in the not so distant future, these kids will be on their own. In college, raising families, in the work force in some capacity. And sometimes, there are situations when you have to call on reserves you didn't know you had, to get things done, or else. Today, they might get a taste of it. I honestly don't think parents do their kids any favors, when they shield them from every little thing. They will never grow into independent, productive confident adults, if they aren't allowed to have some space, be expected to be responsible, be allowed to problem solve, be allowed to feel that sense of pride that they CAN get things done when things are rough, or be allowed to stand on their own two feet, without their parents holding them up and blocking every less than perfect situation. Some times, you have to give your kid wings, and shove them out of the nest, for their own good.


     Speaking of wings. Here in Western New York, we have a little boy who, gained his this week.

     It began as a mom, writing a Blog, about her son, a little boy with an identical twin brother, who had been diagnosed with stage iv brain cancer. His mom was begging people to pray for a miracle for her baby.
     It took off, in the most unexpected way. A campaign called "Blue For Ben" began. Offices across the region, and even across the country, had "Dress Blue for Ben" days. As did schools. Niagara Falls was lit Blue, the Peace Bridge, office buildings, also turned blue for Ben. Tens of thousands of people prayed for this family, as Ben's mother begged for a miracle for her son. Support poured in from all over the world.
     And Ben's mom continued to chronicle their story via her Blog. Mom's everywhere wept, as they thought of their own kids, and viewed such heartbreak, written from a Mother's point of view.
     With each Blog post, it was evident that, the miracle that Ben's mom had prayed for, was not going to happen. With each post sadder than the last, and not one person I know who could read it without crying, it was clear that Ben was not going to make it.
     In all reality though, Ben's mom DID get her miracle. Just not the one she was looking for. Because, through it all, Ben's mom showed the whole world what amazing faith she had. She almost seemed to accept the inevitable with more grace and acceptance than her followers did. Posts on Facebook wondered in anguish WHY this should happen to a little boy, and not a terrible criminal? Where was the justice? How was this fair? Yes, yes yes, at the same time, Jim Kelly, the retired Buffalo Bills quarter back has cancer, and that's sad,  but, a little boy??? A little boy who loves to play with frogs?? And catch snakes? And who has those DIMPLES?? EVERYONE felt Ben and his family tug on their heartstrings. When Ben's mom announced she was pregnant, it made it even harder to bear. Growing the life of one baby, while watching another fade away. Pregnancy hormones, and the grief of watching your baby's days dwindle. The miracle that Ben's mom got was not that Ben could heal and the cancer would be gone.
     The miracle that Ben's mom got was, herself. She showed the entire Western New York area, and people worldwide, what an amazing faith she had. She brought together communities and parents everywhere, into one big prayer chain. She showed us all this absolute faith in God, and this acceptance of His will, that I don't know I could be a good enough person to ever accept. She showed everyone her serenity with the complete belief that Ben was in heaven, and he was okay, and that God had given them a huge blessing , just letting them borrow Ben for 5 short years. How many parents can honestly say they would feel as Ben's mom did? I don't know that I could.

     Since I am at work, and this post is making me all weepy, I think I should stop writing about Ben.

     I guess, there are all sorts of ways, to give your child wings. Be it Independence, or responsibility, or stepping  back, and letting them deal with life on their own, or, letting them go to heaven, with the trust that God's got this.

    

Yes. I BANNED "Frozen"!

     This past weekend was the Annual Maple Fest. We have this down to an art form, with everyone pretty much knowing the routine.
     It begins with the girls and I lining up early for the Library Book sale. The same people are always in line, and everyone knows who is going to attempt to show up late and cut to the front. We are all on to them, however, so those old ladies don't succeed anymore. Don't judge. Franklinville is a tiny town, with one big annual event, and this is also the big stock up on books event. Unless you frequent one of our many many bars - which I have not done in many many years - this is what we do for thrills once a year. We try to make it into the library book sale without getting hip checked out of the way by glaring little old ladies who try to cut in line and then stand at the book tables in such a way that no one can get around them.

     A few years ago, the people who put on the Maple Fest decided to add a 5k or a 2k race or something along those lines, to the mix. A few friends and I thought about it this year, but, it coincided with the library book sale. And Case Lake hill was part of the race. And I really wanted to see my kids march in the parade. And in my current shape, I was pretty sure of certain death on that hill. Or at least a nice ambulance ride. So. Avoiding elderly elbows in my kidneys at the book sale seemed a safer choice than  adding the race to the mix.  (Note to self: SERIOUSLY?? There were OLD people running up that hill!!!!! You going to let the previous 2 generations beat you??? But then, there is the whole hair thing and sweat thing, and have the kids at the parade line up by 1030 thing, and no real time to shower in between thing, and I am doing people a favor here.)

     On to the parade. Kaila marched in the parade with the School band, proud of being the only kid with a trumpet who had the "Phantom of the Opera" memorized, thus not needing the music to follow along to. That child has had the entire Phantom memorized for years and can sing it backwards and forward in her sleep. Now she can play it, as well. She played it for us, the neighbors, company, the dogs......
     Joe marched with the baseball teams. A last minute switch from marching with the Cub Scouts. Mostly, I suspect, because he cannot find his Cub Scout shirt.
    
     The rest of the weekend was spent on and off at the Maple Fest. Joe was signed up to help out at the Scout booth. Which, I found out very last minute, required baking on my part, as they had decided to add a bake sale to it this year. Which involved super mom here baking chocolate chip cookies late Saturday evening, after putting it off as long as possible, while whining about it as much as possible. Bearded Man even went to the store and bought himself a six pack of beer, with which to fortify himself to assist in the cookie baking. But mostly, he sat at the kitchen table with George and played hunting games on the ipad.
     Joe threw himself whole heartily into the selling process. As the absolute best and most tireless nagger in the household, sales are a good fit for him. Mostly because he will never, ever give up, until you make him happy and do what he is requesting. He can last for days. Selling candy bars and baked goods was really nothing for him.

     "Oh! Hello Megan! I know you are allergic to chocolate, and I am selling chocolate. So. No chocolate for you!" he announced to a poor little classmate, as he snatched his box and spun away from her. You can't have chocolate? No sale, and no time for you.


     Also this weekend, was an accidental discovery. We discovered the MOST AMAZING apartment ever, along with a realtor who was determined to sell me something, or at least sell my house.
     A friend of mine is opening up a new salon in the village. The girls and I saw large "Open House" signs outside the building the salon will be in, so, we decided to go check it out.
     Inside, we found a large empty space, that used to house an art gallery, framing shop, and restaurant at various times through the last 10 years. And two Realtors. We quickly explained why we were there, and next thing we knew, were getting hauled up a flight of stairs, leading to where the art gallery and restaurant portion of things used to be.
     Into the most amazing loft apartment space I have ever seen. It was NYC perfect, and would have sold for several million dollars on that "Selling NY" show on HGTV. And it was in middle of nowhere, Franklinville. It still had the wood floors and track lighting from the art gallery, the kitchen and walk in freezer from the restaurant, and just so much amazing space everywhere!
    
     "Oh my gosh, does someone LIVE here?!" I gasped, when I saw a long haired black cat looking at us in confusion.

     "Of COURSE!"

     "Oh wow. We should NOT be up here, girls." I tried to say, as they walked through in as much awe as I was in.

     "Would you like to buy it?" the realtor asked.

     "YES!!!!!" Shouted the girls

     "NO!"

     "You could do so much! Would you like to buy the building?"

     "No, thank you, I really only came in because I thought this was Alicia's open house...."

     "Would you like to put a coffee shop in here?"

     "Ha ha! Ummm, no, no... I don't have the time...."

     "You could buy the building and then LEASE it!"

     "Really, I really really cannot...."

     "Would you like to put a craft store, or a gift shop in here?"

     "I REALLY cannot, I am so sorry...."

     "Your girls seem to love it! You should really not let such a PRIME piece of property pass up!"

     "No. No, I really cannot buy this building, but thanks for the tour..."

     "How about your house?"

     "WHAT?"

     "Your house! Do you own it? Would you like to buy a home? Do you like your house? Your location?"

     "What? I do own, I would love an extra bathroom someday, but for right now, half of the town is for sale, and nothing is selling, and we are not interested in moving right this minute. Thanks though!"

     "I could sell  your house, as is, within a few months. Where would you like to move? More than one bathroom..." (The writing begins) "how many bedrooms? In the village or outside the village?"

     "I REALLY gotta go now. Thanks again, and, if we decide to sell, we will let you know! Bye!!!!"

I felt like 2 more minutes with those Realtors, and I would have been homeless. The more aggressive of the two was prepared to bring in a motivated buyer THIS WEEKEND! Which is entirely not enough time to properly clean for. We will continue to make due with one bathroom for now, and tell the boys to pee out back under the trees, when the girls are using it.

     Also of note, please don't roll your eyes, but, all things "Frozen"  has here for and henceforth been banned from the household. I just couldn't deal with it anymore. I did buy the DVD for the kids. And wanted to burn it within the first 10 days of owning it. The kids. All of them. Sing it, or act it out CONSTANTLY. Just the other day in church, George began "Melting" and could not possibly stand, sit, kneel.... Lexi had to make him a flurry. People were watching in confusion, as Lexi began spinning her fingers and hand, as if she was casting a spell in church, while she built a flurry and made George stand up again.
     All the throw blankets were all washed. Again. And they were all dragged outside. Again. Used as capes, by not only MY kids,  but the NEIGHBOR kids, as well, to act it out, and sing the songs on top of their precious little lungs, while promenading up and down the sidewalk with grand theatrical gestures and stomping feet (You know, to make ice. Just like queen whatshername.) They sung it in bed. And during meals. And every time a door was closed. In the car. Church. Playground. Walking. Running. Showering, bathing, dressing, CONSTANTLY. I just couldn't deal with it anymore. Even THINKING about Olaf  made me want to melt the little (ahem) just out of meanness and spite. Then came the parodies. Sent to Kaila by her BFF, Kate, from Michigan. "Do you want to hide a body" became as popular as the rest of the music. I can only imagine what the neighbors thought, as my kids, wrapped in various throw blankets, marched around outside, singing "DO YOU WANT TO HIDE A BOOOODDDDYYYYY???? IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE IN ONE PIECE!!!!!!!!!!" In decibels usually reserved for large  helicopters and heavy metal concerts.

    I write this  in direct hypocrisy of a recent Facebook post, lamenting the rotten things people do and say and write and if there was any decency in humanity anymore. I don't care.

     Anyhow. That's life in the household lately. As far as I know, the house is not currently for sale.... but the realtor seemed pretty determined. I feel like there is a decent possibility that I could wake up to a knock on the door, and find myself in the middle of a tour of my home. I guess if the offer is right.......!

  
    
    

    

George's Weekend Shenanigans

      Easter yesterday, had me feeling all Mary Poppins and Maria VonTrapp, all in one. With maybe a little bit of Matilda's Mom in there, because, that's kinda how I feel I parent most of the time.
     Anyhow, the day began with the kids finding their Easter baskets bright and early, and eating candy for breakfast. Approximately 5 minutes before we had to be out the door for 8:30 am Mass, they all decided we should have a proper breakfast right now. And Lexi decided to wash her new shoes in the bathroom sink. By completely submerging them in water. And George ran HIS shoes through gross stuff outside, so THOSE needed to be scrubbed as well. And Joe didn't know where his dress pants were - that child has no end problems with pants, it seems.
     We made it to church all in one piece and looking mostly respectable. I wished triplets onto George at approximately mid point during Mass. Not sure if it was before or after he decided to go all Olaf during the singing parts, and, not knowing the words to any of the songs, sang "In Summer" in his best loud opera voice. All long lingering and loud at the end of every song.

     "MOM! IS IT TIME TO GO HOME YET?"

     "Ssssshhhhh!!!! Not yet. In a little while."

     "OKAY. I JUST THOUGHT I WOULD CHECK, MAMA."

     "Okay. Ssshhhh! We need to be quiet, okay?"

     "OKAY. MAMA? WHY DOESN'T THAT MAN HAVE ANY HAIR? THAT GUY, RIGHT THERE IN THE BLUE SHIRT?"

     "George! SSSSHHHHHH!!!!! Probably because he was bad in church when he was little,"

     "I HAFTA GO POTTY NOW!"

     "You absolutely REFUSED to go potty before this started! Are you SURE?"

     "YES!!!!!!! I HAVE TO GO NOW!"

     "George, you can't hold it for just a few more minutes, till everyone stands up?"

     "IF YOU DON'T LET ME GO POTTY RIGHT NOW, I WILL PEE IN MY PANTS, MAMA! AND MY SHOES WILL BE ALL WET!"

     "Go. And don't run."

     "Mom! George is digging through my pockets! Make him stop!"

     "Mom! George is wearing my coat!"

     "Mom! George keeps hitting me!"

     "Mom! George is trying to bite me!"

     "Make  him stop growling!"

     "Mom!!!! GEORGE!!!!"

     "Did you just tell George you wish triplets on him??? In church?? Is that allowed? Can you DO that?"

     "Shut up, Jasin, or deal with him yourself."

After church, the children were all given donuts to keep them occupied while Easter Eggs were hidden outside. It was with quiet kids and me feeling all relaxed and not stressed, that the head of Religious Ed approached me. She asked if I could please please please teach the 7th and 8th grade Sunday School class next fall. It seems the current teacher is quitting after the end of this year, because the kids are for the most part, absolutely dreadful. Jasin was told he could help out (Which was the way we say "Provide threatening looking security, to keep the little dears in line for the good of their blessed little souls for an hour and a half every week during the school year") and George can sit in, too. I imagine that should go well. Not sure who is going to learn from whom, actually.

     The Easter Egg hunt was just  perfect. The Church lawns and gardens are just beautiful, and seeing all the parish kids dressed up and running through spring flowers was really one of those moments that you wish could be captured forever. It was like living in a story book for about 10 minutes.

     The rest of the day, once we arrived home, was spent outdoors. The weather was the best it's been this year, and we had no specific plans. We took the kids up the road to Case Lake, and flew kites, played on the playground, and ran around for a few  hours. We took them on a long bike ride all over the village. (Rode by a little boy and his Dad "Daddy? Why are there all these people riding bikes? Is there a parade today?") The puppy chased bubbles, and was hauled around the block on numerous walks all weekend. He was completely happily exhausted. We had the first cookout and dinner of the year on the back patio, and just all around had a really amazing day.

     No indoor chores were done all weekend. Which really isn't a good thing, as, my scrub situation is dire. And, with the house looking the way it does, there is almost guaranteed company. Therefore, cleaning and laundry is on the docket when I get home from work tonight. And, aside from leftover macaroni salad, there is nothing planned for dinner tonight, because I completely forgot about it. Which should go over well with Joe. Who is pretty sure I am deliberately trying to starve him to death anyway, and who (you guessed it!) hates macaroni salad.

     Also this week, I need to undo all George's stuff from this weekend. He apologized long and heartily, but, I honestly couldn't even speak. Saturday, he went around looking for worms and ants, and over tuned and moved every single garden boarder I have. Last summer, it was all my solar lights; this year, it's the garden boarders. My poor gardens don't seem to stand a chance with that child.I need to go through (With his assistance) and put them all to rights again. He did try to put them all back together again though. So there is that.....
     My vehicle now has several scratches all over the hood, and a muddy footprint on the windshield. It seems he discovered how to climb onto the hood of my truck. With his sneakers on, with stones in the treads. And dance. I imagine my diva of a vehicle is not pleased, and I can only imagine the issues I will now have with it over this indignity. You think I'm kidding?? It KNOWS things.

     Anyhow, that's the weekend, and the plans for the week. God Bless the teachers today, who have to deal with the overtired, sugar infused, just off of Spring Break children of yesterday. Good luck, keeping them all cooped up after every kid in town spent the last several days outside.... You have my thoughts and sympathy today!

 
    
 
    
    

    

Jelly Bean Anxiety

     Easter weekend! Good Friday and all that.The resident Easter Bunny has yet to purchase so much as a jelly bean. Easter morning is going to be interesting, if I don't get moving in the seriously near future here.

     Yesterday evening, I decided to come home from work, feed my children marginally nutritious food, and then take them to Holy Thursday Mass. Which began right about the time the kids normally begin getting ready for bed. Because, obviously, my brains were MIA yesterday.
     George is a  handful on Sunday mornings, to say the least. (Refer back to a recent Facebook comment I made, indicating George may benefit from a nice little exorcism....). Take that boy to church near bedtime, and, Mama starts to look at the wine chalice in a completely different, almost desperate light....
     We made it through in one piece, however, and, the priest at the new church hasn't requested we leave him at home  yet. (The last one did.) So, there is that. We did have an uncomfortable moment or two when I reached over to pull George away from tormenting his brother - again - and George began to scream on top of his precious little lungs that I had hurt his head, and he was no longer able to see, and probably blind, followed by some pretty convincing tears in the throes of what looked like the worst, most tortured pain EVER. One "Mom" look, and the show magically stopped, so, no authorities were called.

     In other news, baseball season begins tonight. Which means that, I will no longer have the obligation to drag the kids to Good Friday Mass after work, and George will have an entire playground to run around in, and torment his babysitter sisters. They mentioned that their prices for watching him during baseball season have gone up this year. We are still in negotiation stages.

     This week we had a meeting at school, regarding the Washington DC trip that only 10 kids in the school were picked for. Kaila being one of them. It seems that the trip begins on Mother's Day, and will require a 4 AM wake up time, in order to get the child out the door and on the bus by 5:15 AM. Happy Mother's Day!
     I completely suck as a good parent. Kaila and I were all "You are going to see SO MUCH, and have SO MUCH FUN! And meet NEW PEOPLE!!" and Kaila was all "I KNOW!!! I am so EXCITED! I can't WAIT!!!!"
     And the other moms were all "We aren't so sure about the safety of this trip....."
I look at it as: supporting my kids, and encouraging them to be independent, confident productive people. They will never leave the house, and I will never have two minutes to myself EVER, if I carry on as if terrible things will happen every time they leave me.

     We  had a taste of no kids at home last Sunday. Most of the kids went to a neighbor's house to play, and Kaila took to her room with a book. Suddenly, there was this crazy sound, and this odd feeling. I wandered through the house in confusion, trying to figure it out. I found Bearded Man on the porch, and together we figured out that; the kids were all gone and the weird sound was silence. We began to count, and came to the conclusion that it won't be too long before they really ARE all gone, and out in the world on their own. Within the next 10  years, three of them will have graduated from High School, and George will be 14! Not sure how I felt about that sobering thought, I decided to ignore it for now, and take a nap.

     My sister's wedding plans continue. In the last few weeks, I may or may not have threatened to strangle her, after a 6 AM text telling me to go pour myself a nice Captain Morgan, as plans had changed. Again. I am hoping after this wedding that sanity is returned to all parties involved, myself included. I do not have the spine to tell her that, even after an exhausting search this past weekend; I cannot find the type of dresses she and Nicole from Sears have requested my girls and one other girl, wear. The problem being that one girl is 6 years old, one wears kids' size 14, and one wears a women's size 4. Finding matching or even semi matching dresses has proven pretty difficult..... I don't know what kind of miracle I am hoping for at this point, to save me the inevitable reaction I will get from my sister. And, I haven't been able to go tanning, either. I told her maybe I would, after being told that I was too pale for the wedding pictures. I cannot even think about the reaction that trotting my unmatched daughters down the gazebo wedding path  would garner from my sister and Nicole From Sears right now. Ah well. we still have a month. I may be able to pull off the miracle of decorating her wedding, making centerpieces, and matching my kids, without strangulation or Captain Morgan involved. My poor sister. This wedding is making her crazy.

     I think that's about it. I need to make up a shopping list. This year for Easter, we are taking advantage of the fore casted amazing weather, and having a cookout, in lieu of the traditional ham. Burgers, deviled eggs, macaroni salad, and iced tea, out on the patio. Not one item of which is currently on the premises of my home at this time.
    
     Happy Easter, everyone!

    

I Have no Pants, Mom

     Our normally healthy happy household is under yet another illness. Upper respiratory. Give me vomit any day. I hate respiratory as a nurse, and I hate it as a Mom. There is nothing worse than watching a patient or your child struggle to breathe. Ventilators always made me nervous when they would alarm at the hospital. The stories I could tell, about Ventilator patients and the reasons for their constant alarms. As a nurse, I hated running into a room, and seeing a purple or gray faced patient who couldn't breathe.
     Anyhow, last Sunday, George woke up, unable to breathe. The horrendous noise he made, as he tried to  drag breath in and out, was truly terrifying. I had him on his nebulizer in moments, and watched his fingertips change from blue/gray to normal again. back to the Doctor's he went, where he was diagnosed with a left ear infection and given more albulerol for his nebulizer. I have had that nebulizer for almost 9 years, and never once used it before this year. Thank God we had it on hand.
     George seems fine now, as in; he can breathe, but, we seriously need to kick whatever bug that's hanging around our household.

     Yesterday morning, the  bug caughtup to me. I've been relatively healthy all winter, but, the sore throat and cough hit me. By this morning, it hurt to breathe in or out. Because of this yucky feeling, the housework I had faithfully kept up with and onto a schedule, fell apart. All my family needs is 4 hours with Mom out of commission, and, we are back to square one.
     This morning, Joe wandered downstairs dressed for school in a too big pair of pants, and a shirt tucked into them.

     "Joe. Un-tuck the shirt... that's not really a 'tuck in' kind of outfit, bud."

     "I cannot. My pants will fall down."

     "Where is your belt?"

     "Turbo ate it."

     "You should really put on something else, then."

     "I cannot. I do not have anything else." (NOTE: I skipped ONE LOAD of laundry this week. There is no way that all his pants were in that one load sitting next to the washer.)

     "Joe. Try looking in the drier. I didn't fold the laundry last night; you might have a pair of pants in there."

     "There is not."

As I ran out the door for work this morning, I saw the little martyr loading the washer with the laundry. Someone, someplace, has probably heard about my neglect today. However, it did dawn on me, that this now makes three children capable of doing the laundry, and I really need to exploit that....

     Illness aside, it's been pretty busy around the old homestead. And, with somewhat better weather, the kids have been outside more, doors and windows have been opened, and, the quest for a paint color has finally come to an end. I have decided for sure, what the colors will be for the exterior of the house.
    
     This week, I had to be up in Buffalo for 2 days for training. (Shout out to all my friends from 8-D/5-C!!!! I MISS YOU GUYS!!!!) Anyhow, on the way home, tucked into some trees, is this beautiful house. I LOVE this house. I have coveted it forever. Well, ever since I noticed it after driving to Buffalo several times a week, when I worked there full time, anyway. Some day, that house may come up for sale, and I will probably not be able to afford it, and then someone else will buy it, and I will be all devastated.
     I love this house. And the colors. And everything about it. And, I decided that I REALLY loved the colors enough, that they would look wonderful on MY house, too! I went to Lowe's. I went to the Home Depot. I tried to "guesstimate" the colors, but was never quite sure.
     Awhile back, I put it out on Facebook: Is it okay to stop and ask, or not? And people seemed to think it would be okay. (It wasn't THEM getting the police called for suspicious activity....)The first day this week, I ALMOST stopped, but, lost nerve. I had to get home, anyhow.
     The second day I had to drive by it, I stopped. And, before I could lose the spine, hopped out of my vehicle, tried not to look threatening, suspicious, or psychotic, and look all mom, nurse and respectable.
     I rang the doorbell, and waited nervously. Until a lady came out, holding a bag of Craisins, and inquired as to my presence, and then I opened my mouth, and began to babble. She kept popping craisins into her mouth, as I rambled on this entire convoluted story about how much I loved her "Freaking house" and how mine looked like a dilapidated, run down, haunted ruin, how I USED to work in Buffalo, but now I work in Olean, but I live in Franklinville, and the drive is much shorter now, but I really really missed Buffalo, and oh  my gosh, listen to me, but, anyway, I really really think you have the most beautiful house ever, and it's not like I am asking to BUY it or anything, I mean, really! HAHAH! Anyhow, if you don't think I am a psychotic monster - which i am not! Oh wow! - do you know the names of the colors you used, and can I take a picture?" I babbled for what seemed like forever. Just everything. I spilled everything but my dress size and social security number. And she just kept eating craisins, and listening with her head tilted and her eyebrow raised. She told me the color of the body of the house, and allowed me to take pictures. (Which turned out awful, and, funny enough, I had just spent TWO DAYS learning how to take decent pictures, so I could be qualified to do dermatology telehealth...) and then I just about ran back to my truck, thankful to have the entire humiliating experience over with. When I Googled the color, it popped right up. And that is the color it will be.
     I am not announcing it however, as I do not want anyone telling me it's wretched, like the last time I produced color swatches. (I would like to take this moment to point out that, the person who pronounced the last color selection as "wretched" was my older sister. Who is getting married next month, and who picked her wedding color from the color of her manicure......) So. At the end of the day, I just need the weather to stay decent and clear, and the resident person in the midst of a Beard Identity Crisis, to be motivated, and to go buy paint, and then maybe my home will start to look pretty again. One can only dream.

     In less than two months, one sister and one brother are getting married. (Thrown in there is also Joe's First Communion, Kaila's trip to Washington DC, Kaila's 13th Birthday, and Joe's 9th Birthday...) I am the Matron of Honor in my sister's wedding. My poor sister. What began as a casual back yard affair, has turned into a formal shindig at a park, and not even a shadow of her original plans. I asked her once, if this is even what she wanted, and she just wailed "I am just trying to keep everyone happy!!" Poor thing. The groom's side of the event has been there assisting her with everything, and thus far, my presence has only been requested for bridesmaids dress shopping. It was pretty traumatic for everyone. Not one of the people involved wanted to try on dresses in front of anyone else. Words were said, tears shed, and tension was high that day.
      Tomorrow is "Gather in the park and decide on decorations" day. There is this lady, introduced as "Nicole from Sears" who seems to have become unofficial wedding planner. Her husband, it seems, is in the wedding party, and she is not. Something she pointed out (A. LOT.) on dress shopping day - I think Nicole from Sears wanted to be in the wedding. Since she is not, however, she is the reason we went from casual to formal. She said she saw my sister's dress, and decided that there was no way a casual wedding would work with that dress. Since my sister is still a trifle aggravated over the Dress Shopping Fail, tomorrow had better be full of happy bridesmaids (The other two don't like each other...) and better attitudes all around than Dress Shopping Day. My own, included. Admittedly, I was also not thrilled about trying on dresses in front of half a dozen people I had never met. Asking a group of women to display every insecurity they have by trying on clothes in front of each other - women that have either never met or hate each other - is a recipe for disaster. Since no undressing is required tomorrow, I am hoping for the best.
     Last time we were all together, Nicole from Sears didn't like many of our ideas for decorating, so hopefully she has lots of ideas and things progress smoothly tomorrow.
    
     That's all the excitement around here for now. Have a great weekend! I am headed home to fold laundry and find my poor neglected kid his pants.