I've been tagged...

I've just been tagged by 'Zilla, so, here goes, they're not in order, just randomly a I think of them:
Top ten Turn-ons:
1. Rain in the middle of the day when the kids are in school and the Prince and I aren't.
2. Watching a movie, like "The Five People You Meet In Heaven," or "The Notebook" with the Prince and turning around at the end to see his face covered in tears.
3. Taking digital pictures of the kids and having them be really good...
4. Re-finding old friends that I've missed so much. (Tag Debra Dale! it's your turn to do this, so you have to start a blog.)
5. Talking with one of my sisters on the phone
6. Being a Mock Trial coach and watching our team do really well in competition
7. Finding old things: old kitchen gadgets, old buttons, old dishes, old dolls with ratty hair, old letters (love those), old gloves and hankies, old purses and old bibles with lots of writing in them; finding a Knickerbocker Humpty Dumpty (I have many of these).
8. Making chocolate chip cookies on a cold, rainy or snowy day with my kids
9. Hymns I grew up with
10. Sleepy kisses from a sweet faced child who just woke up.

Top 10 Turn-offs
1. Teachers whose professional skills are so inadequate that they injure the feelings of their little students. Sometimes, this pain forever ruins the joy of learning for a child...
2. People who don't look for the innate value of other people
3. No toilet paper on the roll or no roll in the bathroom.
4. Summer school for me or for my kids.
5. Dirty cars...(I can't stand that!)
6. People who are being paid to do a job, who somehow just get away with not doing it, and no one even cares.
7. Hot flashes in the middle of a heat wave in the desert. These personal power surges are demonic and have a will of their own. They arrive at the most inopportune times and places.
8. People who are disrespectful to the Prince...grrr!
9. People who take their position or authority so seriously they are willing to alienate those around them, or those they pretend to care about.
10. Having to study for a summer class when I'd really rather go swimming with the kids.

The world must be coming to an end...

It's 9:00 a.m., on a Friday morning, it's actually cool outside, not hot here in the desert, yet, and all of the children are still sleeping. I don't know whether to go climb in their beds like every one of them has done to me when I was sleeping really good, or let them sleep. It's so quiet when all five of them are sleeping. There's something oddly creepy about it. Especially, since I started a draft yesterday entitled *Now, leave me alone.* about how I never have any alone time. Ever. For relatively new mommies, that may be okay, but folks, I've been doing this mommy thing, for like 19 years...and the marriage thing for 20...everyday. While I wouldn't trade one of my angels for all the Starbucks in Los Angeles, I would like to do a few things all by myself...go to Barnes and Noble *sniffing for new books smell and only coming up with dirty trash can smell (ewwwwww!)* get my nails and hair done**wistful remembering**, sneak off with the Prince for some adult play time (this 3:30 in the morning when everyone's asleep thing is killing me), or go shopping in the Antiques Stores on Sherman Way in the San Fernando Valley *sigh* take a bath...blog without someone reading it over my shoulder... I think I'll take a walk outside and make sure there wasn't a nuclear attack last night while I was sleeping. It's 9:25 and they're still sleeping...shhhhh be very quiet. Maybe I can go abduct the Prince for a little alone mommy and daddy time...too late. Joey just peeked around the corner. damn.

Standing in the Surf

This past Thursday, the prince spent the day with my mother-in-love picking up his handicapped brother at summer camp in Malibu. I had the opportunity to drop him off the previous Friday, and it was wonderful. This camp, was wonderful. My brother-in-law is *trainably mentally handicapped*. At 41 years old, he has the mentality of about an 11 year old. He's kind, and sweet, and speaks well, for his disability, and can be completely, normally, bratty, at the same time.
Having been married to the prince for 20 years, I thought I had seen all the different aspect of his brother. His love for his nieces and nephews is enormous. He has their pictures in his wallet and all over his bedroom. His loyalty to his belief that the prince is a hero is matched only by my own. Still, in all these years, with him going to camp, and to the various job skills programs that he has been involved in, I had never had the opportunity to see him in his own element. As I type this, there are tears streaming down my face.
When we started driving down Pacific Coast Highway, I thought "What a wonderful place for a camp for disabled people!" I didn't know the half of it! The camp is called Camp Joan Mier, and is run by an organization, called, "Ability First." and those people are the most sincere, compassionate and patient people on earth.
At camp, he is "da bomb!" When we got there, before we could even get in the building to register him, counselors from previous years were coming out to greet him! "The coffee kid is here!!!" (He'll do ANYTHING for coffee!) They were calling out to other counselors to let them know he had arrived. There were 400 clients there this week alone, and even though the camp has six sessions every summer, they remembered my brother! It was the first time in 20 years that he ever introduced me as his *sister*. And he introduced me to everyone! The other *kids* (as he calls them), to the staff and even the nurse. And everyone had a smile and a hug for him. MY BROTHER WAS COOL! I had seen him be sweet, and kind, and funny, and snotty, and bratty, and happy and sad, and loving, and hateful, but never *cool.* So, I wanted the prince to experience it. I couldn't explain it. There aren't any words.
I gave Robbie a couple of dollars to buy some postcards to send home to his nieces and nephews, and before I was ready, it was time to go.
The prince called me from the beach on Thursday, when the waves had just washed over his feet. I asked him how he liked picking up his brother. There was a pregnant pause, and he said, "I understand now what you meant." and his voice got raspy, and I thought it was the stupid phone cutting out. Later, when he came home,he handed me a necklace with a dogtag that read "Camp Joan Mier." It is a treasure to remind me that my brother chose me over everyone else. It's never been imprtant whether or not my brother was cool, but what a gift to be able to see him that way.I thought about all those people who had taken such sweet care of my little brother. What a gift they gave us all.
If you are looking for a good charitable organization with whom to make a donation, this one is great! You can visit them at www.abilityfirst.org

Lord, please bless and protect each one who blessed us, and thank you for letting us experience your graciousness as you made his summer camp such a wonderful place for him and for us. In Jesus' Name, I pray, Amen.

Weekend Rentals

I've decided that on Sundays I will review the DVDs that we rented or bought to watch with the kids over the weekend. So, here goes,
Here's the scale:
* use the time to clean the grout around the toilet
**use the time to clean the grout around the tub
***kid friendly, but adults will spend the time wanting to slap someone
****good use of time for both children and adults
*****good use of time for adults
Diary of a Mad Black Woman *****
What a wonderful movie. The casting was superb. Cicely Tyson is charming, as is Tyler Perry. It illustrates the importance of forgiveness so well, and reaches beyond our understanding of the implications of forgiveness.

Are We there Yet? ***
What on earth were they thinking, having children abduct a car? You know someone's children will take the keys and try to drive! I'm sorry, but those children are beyond a time out! Still, very entertaining for ages 7 to 13. The three year old could have cared less.

Ladder 49 ****
Another wonderful movie! Bring your hankies. Kenny, my 11-year-old, has wanted to be a firefighter since he was 3 or 4. This is the first movie he has ever cried over. I don't know if I cried more from his response to the movie, or the movie itself.

Flight of the Phoenix****
Great movie about endurance, and teamwork, and tenacity in the face of overwhelming odds.

Queens of Comedy *
I ususally like all of these comediennes, but this was just...rank. :(

See you next weekend, at the rental store.

The Boobie Fairy

Katie has anxiously awaited the delivery of her breasts since she was about two years old. When the booby fairy made her obvious delivery to my pregnant with Kenny body, Katie noticed. She loved them. She loved everything about them, and always wanted to snuggle her little face in them. It's not that they were small, for heavens sake, they were a D-Cup before the pregnancy.
She loved them so much, she would walk around our apartment shaking her little diapered bottom chanting: "Boomby! Boomby!" at the top of her lungs. At a family gathering, she entertained her aunt, my sister, by telling all her uncles, my brothers-in-law proudly: "my mommy has boombies."
It must be a girl thing, because today, Gracie came in after swimming and asked me what was on her chest:
"Gracie you know what those are. What are they?"
"Joey says they're b'zoombas."
"Well, they're not. They're breasts."
"Kenny says they're boobies. I don't want them. Can I take theem off?"
"No honey, when you're a teenager, the'll be bigger and you'll like them."
"Katie's a teenager, and hers are little. Why can't I take them off?"
***distracted, a little tuned out in the conversation***
"Mommy. Isn't Bobby a teenager? "
"Yes. Why?"
"Well, his are big." Uh oh. I think he needs to start lifting weights.
I remembered that recently, while going through some pictures, I found a white envelope with the prince's name on it. when I opened it, I found a letter addressed to him. (I am copying it verbatim, including the misspelled words:)
Dear Mr._________,
I am sorrey. Inow your dowter is looking for her boobbys. I axidently dlivred them to yur son Bobby.
The Boobby Faeiry.
I had never seen the letter, but apparently, the Prince loved it and saved it.
Bobby's going to be really mad if he ever finds out.

Choosy mothers choose...TOILET PAPER!

I don't know what it is about raising so many children, but my house *never* has any toilet paper. My children can be asleep for hours, and when I walk in the bathroom, the spindle is empty. The cardboard tube is either floating in the tub from when the last one bathed, or it's left on the floor, where it has obviously jumped from the spindle, since not one of the five of these children can remember taking it off. I don't know if it simply ran out of steam, or the tube simply died from the impact of the jump to its great escape. It simply lays on the floor, without even the glued on square to cover its nakedness. ***sigh***. And my bathroom is no different. Any child needing to use my bathroom, may. And everytime they do, the toilet paper disappears.
This sounds like a minor irritation in light of the recent events in London, or all over the world, where children are dying. But in this house, it is of epidemic proportions. I recently purchased one of those 86 roll packs that are so big they must be loaded in the car with a forklift, thinking that my children would surely not use this much toilet paper so quickly. ***sigh.*** you would think I was an amateur mom. Three days. It took three days to hear ,"Maaa! I need toilet paper!" None in the linen closet. None under my cabinet. None under their cabinet. It was all gone. That does it!!!! This is war! Now, I have to know what they're doing with it.
I checked Katie's shirt before she left for school, nope. No padding.
I checked the ceiling, nope. No paper wads on the ceiling.
I checked the rabbit cage. Nope, they used the cedar bedding.
I checked their backpacks... Nope.
I can't find that toilet paper anywhere. They aren't eating it. Which leads me to believe, my kids must just be full of ...well you know what I want to say.

If he or she was stranded on a new island

I was looking at my children today thinking about each of their unique qualities, and it occurred to me that if any one of them were stranded on a new island, they would all handle it in extremely different ways.
Katie, the pseudo-alpha female in our house would be just fine. The first thing that woman/child would do is take inventory of all the men surrounding her. You see, I found my old journals a few days ago, the ones I started and entitled "A hug, a kiss and a bite on the foot," and as I read, I was reminded that she started her "man collection" from the cradle. She has always had this fascination with men since her beloved Uncle Bob decided she was the most beautiful of his nieces. And promptly began to spoil her rotten. She added Daddy, Padagh: her God father, Grandpa, her cousins, and the husbands of our neighbors. As she entered school, she added to her list: new neighbors, Bobby's friends, and the husbands of the women I worked with. It isn't a sexual thing with her, it's a power thing. Katie can impose her will on the male species, and they succumb. If she were stranded, she would harness the men nearby to make sure she had food and shelter, and a cell phone, and they would think the idea originated with them.
Kenny, the wonder-child, would simply do it all himself. He is fascinated by everything, and has been since the day he was born. He has been given an inate ability to be mechanically inclined. When he was almost three years old, I gave him an old fan, a screwdriver and let him "go at it." Since it wasn't plugged up to the electricity, I had no worry about him hurting himself. He took it apart, completely, took the grates off, took off the fan blades, took out the motor, and after I vacuumed it out, he put it back together. By himself. Kenny would look at his surroundings, at what could be used for tools, and build himself a hut with electricity and a microwave.
Joey, on the other hand, would look for the girls. Girls love him. At the baseball park, my little seven year old, (this was before his birthday,) had a little girl following him around trying to kiss him under the slides in the play area. We had to watch him like a hawk. The girls on the playground want to watch him play, and the boys all play what he wants because the girls want to play with him. Joey would look for the girls, tell them what happened, and help them build HIM a hut. Then, he'd help cook for all of them.
Gracie would simply butter everyone up. It appears that Gracie, when she is not at home, and even when she is at home, has the ability to do what she is able to do well, and to get others to do what she doesn't want to do. She'd develop a commune, where everyone contributed, but she got to do what she wanted to do.
Bobby, since he is like an amputee if his cell phone is missing from his body, would never be caught without it. He would simply call one of his friends and be home before nightfall.

While it may seem like I think my children are opportunists, I don't. I think they are great judges of character. They watch human behavior and adapt their behavior to it. That's such an important quality to have today. I hope my children become masters of the boardroom or wonders of acadamia, but if they aren't, the gift I hope I give my children is the independence to be able to succeed no matter where they are.

Lucky stepping stones

I've been reading some wonderful mommy blogs, lately and I realize that when my children were younger, I kept track of their progress much better. So, I've decided to give an update on their growth:
Sitting up:
Gracie: Yep, sits up only long enough to fall asleep sitting up. The rest of the time, she buzzes around with her fairy duties: painting the bedroom wall with sissy's fingernail polish and giving kitty swimming lessons.
The Middles, Katie and Kenny: most of the time, their sitting up takes the form of a slouch of rebellion for having to clean the fingernail polish off the wall, or re-string the guitar when Graciefairy has just broken a string.
Joey: Sits up well. Likes to argue with Bobby over the front seat, where he can see better.
Bobby: The 19 year old doesn't sit up well, at all. He seems to prefer lounging while talking on the phone, or playing video games or watching tv.

Plays by him/herself:
Katie: plays well by herself. Seems to enjoy playing with my make up, Bobby's X Box, my shoes, anything that doesn't belong to her. We're considering giving all her gifts to Bobby to make sure she uses them.
Joey: plays poorly by himself. Enjoys playing with other children, like the ones two streets down whose parents don't supervise them well. Not that I object to these children, Joey just isn't allowed to go off the cul de sac.
Kenny plays well by himself when he is dissecting the pool filter, trying to teach joey to fix it, or the lawnmower or anything else mechanical.
Gracie loves to steal away for some "alone" time, playing with fingernail polish or giving Katie's dolls a "make over" with indelible marker. Should not be allowed out of the eyesight of at least one mobile family members. That, of coure, excludes Bobby.
Bobby: I don't even want to know how he "plays" by himself.

Sleeps all night:
Bobby: All night. All day. Any time he isn't working at Pizza Hut, partying with his friends, visiting the sweetie, or fighting with the sibs.
Katie: does'nt sleep. Thinks she should be able to stay up until Bobby gets home, the cable goes off the air, or the sun comes up. She's a 23 year old stuck in a 13 year old's body.
Kenny: Will sleep anywhere when it's time to sleep, at a normal bedtime, he's out.
Joey: Ditto Katie, except, he wouldn't know what to do with a 13 year old's body, much less, a 23 year old female body. He just things life is to short to sleep.
Gracie: Hates sleep, unless it is morning, time to get up, and she is in mommy's bed. She hates her new bed. The only thing she thinks it's for is jumping. Still getting up in the middle of the night to sleep with the prince and me.

Feeds Self:
Gracie tends to feed everyone. She eats from all our plates, and shares everything that is given to her.
The middles: As long as it contains: pizza, cookie dough, hot chitos or Mountain Dew, these two are good.
Joey: Prefers healty food, note to self: check on Joey's parentage.
Bobby: When food actually enters mouth, instead of colliding with facial surfaces around it, eats well.
Walks by Self
Yeah, right. The only thing these kids think feet are for is swimming, dancing, skateboarding, rollerblading, or jumping on the bed.
Favorite Words
Katie: Mommmm *especially useful when tattling.*
Kenny: Guitar
Joey: Mommy, * especially when he's the subject of the tattle tale.*
Gracie: Please? *expecially when it's Bobby, her *Kitty*
Bobby: Please. He's 19. he simply snarls.
If Lost on an Island by him or herself, this child would: That's a blog in and of itself

Duck Collecting

When I went back to school at the community college near us, I seemed to be the *on-campus mom* for lots of the students. It seemed like every class I took had a young adult or two that needed *mommying* for some reason. They were, and are, so sweet. I would walk across campus, and it seemed like they came out of all the buildings to walk to the cafeteria/student center with me. One of my friends, an older woman, made fun of me and said I looked like a mother duck with all those kids following me. They used to sit on the table in the cafeteria when they couldn't get any more chairs around it singing to me! The Prince and my friends said I "collected ducks..."
When I went to work for the high school district, I was determined not to *collect* any more ducks. Yeah, right. Still, it was my intention. Last school year, hubbie went to work for the same district, at a different high school. Guess what? He has ducks, too.
One of his ducks from last school year is taking classes at the community college with Bobby, and emails us and IMs us all the time. The prince took him to the college to register with Bobby today. One of them got a second job at the place the prince moonlights.
It's not that I don't enjoy collecting ducks, its just that the prince and my friends made fun of me for so many years for doing it. It's sorta' nice having ducklings around everywhere, though.
One of my ducks worked at that fastfood restaurant with the golden arches. It was located on my children's way home from school. One day, the middles decided to stop there on their way home. Squabbling, like brother and sister do, they got the surprise of their lives when my duck said, "I know your mom. You better knock it of and act like you love one another!" They never told me about it. My duck did the next day. Boy, did they "get it" when I got home. I had clean walls for a week!
One time, Bobby went to the fair with his cousins. Standing in line for a ride, they saw some cheerleaders in front of them in line. Bobby accepted a dare to pinch a cheerleader's butt...and then, ran from the Sheriff's deputies who tried to talk to him. Know how I know? A duck, standing in line behind him, told me the next day. I had clean windows that time!
Yesterday, we were standing in the model of the new house we're thinking of buying, and in waddled a duck of mine.
In the hospital, recovering from having an ovary removed, I got more pillows and snacks than anyone else. Yep, ducks.
They make me laugh. They make me cry. They look out for my kids when I'm not around. When the prince delivers pizza during the weekends, they tip him great.
Ducks. Priceless!

Oh, Great! The Rabbit's in heat!!

It's hot here. The forecast is for 112 all this week. The kids are miserable, the air conditioning is on the fritz and the prince just walked in to tell me the rabbit's in heat. Ewwww!!! She's been acting really strange all week, and now I know why. What could be worse than being the rabbit in the desert, in a house with five kids, two cats, three dogs, in 112 degree weather and be in heat? Thank you Lord, that I'm not ever going to go there!

I knew it was too good to be true...

It's officially school. The kids are home from school, their schedules have been changed and they have no classes together. This morning, Katie got up and said she didn't want to go to school, she hates it, and she was adamant that she wanted to go to the Other school (the one with the traditional track.)
Yesterday, Kenny lied about having done his homework, and went in the pool. When it was time for bed, I found him in his bedroom trying to rush through it to get it done. It must be summer, and it must be school.

101 Things I want to do with or for my kids

I have so many dreams for my children, like having the *right* spouse the first time, and having the *first time* be with the *right* spouse. So, here are 101 things I dream of and pray for my children.
1. To know Christ intimately, as their Lord, Savior and husband.
2. To know their siblings as their safe place.
3. To have truly good friends at a young age.
4. That they never experiment with drugs or other addictive behaviors.
5. That their friends never experiment with drugs or other addictive behaviors.
6. That they have the opportunity toget to know the people who truly love them: Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, God-parents.
7. That they all make the most of their educations. Whatever those educations may be and whatever it is God wants them to be.
8. That they learn to laugh often. Particularly at themselves.
9. That they have a hunger and thirst for righteousness, to know the Word of God for themselves.
10 That they value the truth. Whatever the truth is, and in spite of the consequences.
11. That they visit China.
12. Visit Stonehenge.
13. Visit Lakenheath Village, where I lived in England.
14. That they are good neighbors, and have good neighbors.
15. That they are good employees or employers or have good employers.
16. That they are tithers.
17. That they visit Oklahoma and Kansas, and fall in love there.
18. I would love to take my children on a European vacation like my parents did with me.
19. I would love to let my children see the beauty of Britain. I really would love this alot.
20. That my children would want to travel with me.

A world without dogs and cats

Our house is a menagerie. We have three boys, two girls, and a boxer named Buster, a boxer/pitbull named Roxie, a Weimeraner named Rosie, a cat named Felix, a minx kitten named Olive, a bunny named Bunny and a bird named Jinx.
Today, looking out the kitchen window at the dogs peacefully enjoying the overcast sky and the breeze, I prefer the animals to the boys.(Bobby bites me as he reads this.) It would be a terrible world without dogs and cats:
In a world without dogs, there would be nothing to sniff our butts hello when we walked in after taking the trash outside.
In a world without dogs, there would be no one to issue the silent call to attention in the middle of an intense mood. Well, the prince does this sometimes, but I just tell him to go to the bathroom.
In a world without dogs, who would throw spit at the other cars as they drove by.
In a world without dogs, who would check the trash for useable *food* or perfectly chewable shoes and toys we couldn't have meant to throw out?
In a world without dogs, diapers would actually stay in the trash with their contents intact.
In a world without dogs, who would tell the cat to chase the pigeons from the roof next door off the front yard? There would be pigeon poop everywhere.
In a world without cats, who would sit on our chests in the middle of the night to let us know Buster was arguing with the dog three streets down?
In a world without cats, who would sit on the fence to tell the dogs what the world outside was like, and what they were *missing*?
In a world without cats, were would we put the litterbox?
In a world without cats, who would let us know that field mice were invading the garage?
In a world without cats, who would teach the bird the facts of life?
I much prefer the animals.

Driving Mom Crazy 101

When Bobby was a little boy, I swore he was a graduate of Insanity Academy. Insanity Academy is the special school they send children, particularly boys, to for an education on everything that makes a mom *crazy*. I used to think they had a class devoted to household mischief. They taught specific techniques like stealth; my boys can appear into the kitchen to steal cookies from a closed package without me even seeing them slide past me coming or going. All I see is the evidence, the open package left on the floor. Another apparently popular class is *Handprinting 101*. It appears that clean walls, or refrigerator doors, or windows of any kind are particularly loathesome to little boys. I can wash the walls in the hallway, and before I have the opportunity to put the bucket and sponge away, one of them ( the task alternates) will have replaced the cleaned handprints with new, smudgier, blacker ones. This technique appears to really please them when it comes to the refrigerator door.
Speaking of the refrigerator...Why is it that no one likes the bologna when I am buying it in the store, yet all the Prince and I ever find are the wrappers in the fridge? And what happens to the little lightbulbs I keep replacing in it? It's almost as if taking the lightbulb out cloaks their missions in darkness...hey!!! Leave that lightbulb alone!
Today, since it is humid and hot as the devil's livingroom, my boys are perfecting the *if I scream, mom will kill you* technique on each other. Bobby, on the other hand, is perfecting the *If you scream, I will kill you before mom can get to you OR me,* technique. It has been a day of let's see who can make the other scream the loudest... I think Bobby is applying for an Instructorship. I really dislike having boys today. They make messes, they fight with one another, they eat anything that doesn't have a skull and crossbones on the package and they are excessively loud when they are posturing.
They girls, on the other hand, are playing in my shower. No screaming, no fighting, no throwing things at each other. Just playing. It's hot, mommy has that stupid headache for the third day, and it looks like rain. Humid in the desert makes everyone miserable. So, the girls are simply enjoying the coolness of the shower. Which supports my thesis that all of my boys went to Insanity Academy while the girls were playing in the tub. I think it's time to get out the hose and cool the boys off. Yep, in the house. I have a carpet steamer to suck up the water. Maybe it's time to show them the meaning of *crazy.*