I've got skillz

How to prepare for becoming a parent:

Lesson 1
Go to the grocery store.
Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office.
Go home.
Pick up the paper.
Read it for the last time.

Lesson 2
Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who already are parents and berate them about their:
Methods of discipline.
Lack of patience.
Appallingly low tolerance levels.
Allowing their children to run wild.
Suggest ways in which they might improve their child's breastfeeding, sleep habits, toilet training, table manners, and overall behavior.
Enjoy it, because it will be the last time in your life you will have
all the answers.

Lesson 3
To discover how the nights will feel...
Walk around the living room from 5PM to 10PM carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 8-12 pounds, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly.
At 10PM, put the bag down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to sleep.
Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag, until 1AM.
Set the alarm for 3AM.
As you can't get back to sleep, get up at 2AM and have warm milk.
Go to bed at 2:45AM.
Get up at 3AM when the alarm goes off.
Sing songs in the dark until 4AM.
Get up. Make breakfast. Keep this up for 5 years. Look cheerful.

Lesson 4
Can you stand the mess children make? To find out...
Smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains. Hide a piece of raw chicken behind the stereo and leave it there all summer. Stick your fingers in the flower bed. Then rub them on the clean walls.Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?

Lesson 5
Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems. Buy a live octopus and a small bag made out of loose mesh.
Attempt to put the octopus into the bag so that none of the arms hang out.
Time allowed for this - all morning.

Lesson 6
Take an egg carton. Using a pair of scissors and a jar of paint, turn it into an alligator.
Now take the tube from a roll of toilet paper. Using only Scotch tape and a piece of aluminum foil, turn it into an attractive Christmas candle.
Last, take a milk carton, a ping-pong ball, and an empty packet of Cocoa Puffs. Make an exact replica of the Eiffel Tower.

Lesson 7
Forget the BMW and buy a mini-van. And don't think that you can leave it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don't look like that.
Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment.
Leave it there.
Get a dime. Stick it in the cassette player.
Take a family size package of chocolate cookies. Mash them into the back seat.
Run a garden rake along both sides of the car.
There. Perfect.

Lesson 8
Get ready to go out.
Wait outside the bathroom for half an hour.
Go out the front door.
Come in again. Go out.
Come back in.
Go out again.
Walk down the front path.
Walk back up it.
Walk down it again.
Walk very slowly down the road for five minutes.
Stop, inspect minutely, and ask at least 6 questions about every cigarette butt, piece of used chewing gum, dirty tissue, and dead insect along the way.
Retrace your steps.
Scream that you have had as much as you can stand until the neighbors come out and stare at you.
Give up and go back into the house.
You are now just about ready to try taking a small child for a walk.

Lesson 9
Repeat everything at least (if not more than) five times.

Lesson 10
Go to the local grocery store. Take with you the closest thing you can find to a pre-school child. (A full- grown goat is excellent).
If you intend to have more than one child, take more than one goat. Buy your week's groceries without letting the goats out of your sight. Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys.
Until you can easily accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.

Lesson 11
Hollow out a melon. Make a small hole in the side.
Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side.
Now get a bowl of soggy Cheerios and attempt to spoon them into the swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane. Continue until half the Cheerios are gone. Tip half into your lap. The other half, just throw up in the air.You are now ready to feed a nine- month old baby.

Lesson 12
Learn the names of every character from Sesame Street, DoodleBops,and Vegetales. Watch nothing else onTV for at least five years.

Lesson 13
Move to the tropics. Find or make a compost pile. Dig down about halfway and stick your nose in it. Do this 3-5 times a day for at least two years.

Lesson 14
Make a recording of Fran Drescher saying "mommy" repeatedly. (Important: no more than a four second delay between each "mommy"; occasional crescendo to the level of a supersonic jet is required). Play this tape in your car everywhere you go for the next four years. You are now ready to take a long trip with a toddler.

Lesson 15
Start talking to an adult of your choice. Have someone else continually tug on your skirt hem, shirt- sleeve, or elbow while playing the "mommy" tape made from Lesson 14 above. You are now ready to have a conversation with an adult while there is a child in the room.

(author unknown, but clearly has a pile of offspring lol)

Denise Austin

Is trying to kill me.

She kicked my fat arse all over the living room.

Ebears giggles and participation didn't help. The twerp ran circles around me.

Man, I have gotten so out of shape I thought I collapsed a lung. I died at least twice.

And I've committed myself to her for the next 6 months. 3 times a week.

I think

I will die.

I did her Boot Camp DVD.

If I still have a fat belly by the end of this stint, I am so coming after her.

And Jess.

Knitty Music

Just curious, who out there has certain music they listen to when they knit? I need something kinda groovy, but mellow. Looking for input. Maybe something with a ukulele? heh heh
I say that cause way back when I first got sucked into really concentrating/learning to knit, I was also watching the first season of Lost. I found that when I rewatch those episodes where Hurley is listening to his CD player, I get that ole knitting feeling. So now I'm looking to expand that musical goodness.

Or am I just a dork?

Deep Breath, worsted weight

cast on 46

Row 1: p3, k6, p5, k18, p5, k6, p3
Row 2 and all wrong side rows: k3, p6, k5, p18, k5, p6, k3
Row 3: p3, k6, p5 c6b, c6b, c6b, p5, k6, p3
Row 5: p3, c6b, p5, k18, p5, c6b, p3
Row 7: p3, k6, p5, k3, c6f, c6f, k3, p5, k6, p 3
Row 9:p3, k6, p5, k18, p5, k6, p3
Row 11: p3, c6b, p5 c6b, c6b, c6b, p5, c6b, p3
Row 13: p3, k6, p5, k18, p5, k6, p3
Row 15: p3, k6, p5, k3, c6f, c6f, k3, p5, k6, p 3
Row 17: p3, c6b, p5, k18, p5, c6b, p3
Row 19: p3, k6, p5 c6b, c6b, c6b, p5, k6, p3
Row 21:p3, k6, p5, k18, p5, k6, p3
Row 23: p3, c6b, p5, k3, c6f, c6f, k3, p5, c6b, p 3

repeat rows 1-24 for pattern to desired length

go ahead, I dares ya

P.S.

It occured to me that you may be interested in what Ebear was trying to get at with the robot and pistachio......

Newest teen boy got a robot for his birthday. It dances, picks up dirty socks, talks...says "rosebudddddd" when it is turned off. Hula dances, break dances, in general a really cool little toy.
Ebear is fascinated by it.

We also scored some awesome pistachios from Food World and have been using them as our snack treats.

So my best guess: Ebear wanted to feed the robot a treat.

Now, being the creative little git that he is, and knowing he has a working knowledge of manual tools, I can just see him unscrewing the battery lid for the robot to feed him some 'stachios. He knows what batteries are and that they feed electricity to electronics you see......

thus, the whole distraction ploy ;)

Fingernails.

Today Ebear came over to me wanting to have a serious discussion about something in the serious manner only 4 year olds can put together. It had to do with pistachios and a robot. I'm not entirely sure what one had to do with the other, but can tell you that he was definately perturbed about it. Not wanting to get deep into the murky waters of agreeing with him on a subject I'm sure will backfire on me, I distracted him.
"Look at those fingers! Oh my! That dirt is going to eat them off! We better go wash your hands immediately." And off we trotted to the bathroom. Put him up on the counter to keep the chances of escape at a bare minimum. Soaped him up, start laughing, get him laughing which inevitably pricks the curiosity of the wee little girl of the house. Pop her upon the counter so she can watch too.
We scrub scrub scrub, but alas, that dirt is really in there. "Well son, I think we may need to operate" pull out clippers. He actually said "Ow" before I even touched him. Decide to make a really big deal out of it all and we clip each finger nail in small increments, looking to see if any dirt got out after each snip. Little girl is leaning in close for this inspection all the while holding her little balled fists in tight to her tummy (you aint getting aholda my hands dirty copper). After much concentration we get the offending fingers into snappy shape. Rewash hands, pat dry, and even had a grand finish of oohs and ahhs. Congratulations and promotions all around, job well done men. Ebear runs outta the room to dig in the potted plants to see if dirt really will stay out from under what is left of his nails. Then Ebear promptly realizes that was not such a good idea and high tails it to the other bathroom to rewash hands so "Mommy Dearest" doesn't see the evidence.
Little girl did not fall for the 'isn't this interesting game' but still needs her claws trimmed. I start out with her gently, asking her if she wants to get her hands wet, she pulls up her sleeves. We get one hand in the water, I soap it and wash. While rinsing I slip my arm around her and pick up the clippers. Bad idea, I was moving too fast for this conservative minded young lady.
RED ALERT flashed across her eyes while her hands flash back into balled position. She is no longer eying me with suspicion, but with outright contempt as the wrinkle in her scrunched up nose suggests.
It was a long time, but slowly I got her to extend just one finger. Clip! "See, that didn't hurt, and look at that dirt getting out!" Another finger.....then another....she starts leaning in again becoming fascinated with her own hands transportation into the land of the clean. Finally, with the end in sight, we rewash the hands, pat dry and have another grand reveal. Being the lone princess in a house of big brothers makes her especially prone to needing to pagent things on her person that are pretty. Some days it's her beads, other days it's hair barrettes, today it was her dainty little dirtless hands. She was applauded and thus satisfied went on to make mud pies out of this great dirt that just appeared over by moms peace lily.

I'm feeling good about this. It was an accomplishment. This was the first time in many a year that no tears were involved.........at least until I saw the lily........

Air purification suggestions?

The dust factor in our new home is unreal. I'm not a big Dusting Bunny to begin with, but being in new digs (that are NOT under construction-Yay) I'm trying to keep on top of it. There is only carpet in the bedrooms, split brick everywhere else.

WHERE is all this flippin dust coming from???? Seriously. I took a damp rag and went over the buffet top where the tv is located, got everything good and wiped down yeah? I do this EVERY SINGLE DAY and every single day it looks like I've not dusted in a month of sundays. I do the book shelf edges, the mantle and the computer too. The dust on the floor absolutely trips me out. I washed this sucker leaving no place untouched. A week later while sweeping I corralled a dust bunny the size of King Kong. It was not happy.

Is this normal? Has my family always produced this much detritus and I just never noticed before thinking it was construction fall out?
After watching BBC's "How clean is your House" and seeing the nasties that thrive on dust I just can't let this go anymore. Frankly my sinus/ear problems have practically disappeared so I know I will keep at it. I just need help.

Any suggestions on an air purifier/dust destructocon? As it is now, I'm not burning fires in the fire place, nor am I using the furnace to stir stuff up. So it's not coming from the vents. All that is on is the ceiling fans and 5 mini me's. I do open the windows alot, but it's not the season for yard cutting and that sort of dust creating. Totally baffled, the amount of this dust take over just cannot be natural....

Can it?

Eep

No labels

WHY is it so hard to slap a label on something?

Yesterday we had the party for that teenage thing and I had purchased a cake from the local 'got everything mart'. I picked it up from the refrigerated area, saw it was chocolate layered and thought no more about it. Got home, gently threw it into the refrigerator and foggottabout it.

At One thirtyish it was time to bring the cake out and embarrass aforementioned boy/man thing. I popped that lid of, swore slightly as I saw the whip cream frosting was melting, jabbed in the candles quick as I could. Lit them while screaching 'get in here and sing already hurry hurry hurry it's an avalaaaaanche'
After a little bit of nervous laughter people saw I was not goofing around, we sang Happy Birthday---you remember those little portable record players where you could change the RPM's and make Mick Jaggar sound like Mick Mouse? Yeah, it was kind of like that.----Kid blew out his candles and I whipped out the cake knife. I may have caused a wee bit of anxiety as I began slicing and dicing like a Hibatchi chef on speed. I was chopping and flipping pieces of melting cake on plates so fast that I hardly have memory of any of it. Cake was everywhere....and the best part?
The cake WAS ICE CREAM LAYERED.
This is why the sneaky thing was melting like a crayon on brand new car seat leather.
No labels. No where. I had no idea I had set the thing into 'destructo' mode when entering it into the fridge instead of the freezer. Maybe the whip cream icing should have tipped me off?
There was a flash flood of vanilla ice cream that streaked across the counter top. Devastated all that was in it's path...but.....delighted the 4 year old standing at the edge of the counter with mouth wide open.

The one picture that we got of the cake..............



I lead a very exciting, glamorous life I know. Yer just jealous.

Two more birthday's this month....whheeeeeeeeeee LOL

Another massacre at a school

*begin Vent*
Anyone but me notice that all these gunmen nutters going off have a common thread? All were 'off their meds' when they decided to go on a killing spree.

I remember having discussions years ago about what was going to be the result of all these kids put on ADD/ADHD/hyper drugs to calm them down and make em more manageable in school. Instead of discipline, self control and learning how to control yourself and focus like all previous generations had too, it was magic pills. One of the topics was how they are not learning how to deal with full blown emotions, walking around hazy. Then come the hormone years and how difficult it is to muddle through that highly emotional period in life....but if you are still medicated through it, how much actual learning to deal with life's disappointments and highs do you really achieve?

Now they get to college where Mommy and Daddy are not there to be sure scripts get refilled, much less taken and life comes at them full force, unmuddled. Those poor kids in universities that were jumping out dorm windows stories up a couple years ago, the suicide rates in young adults skyrocketing, and now as this breakthrough group gets in the real world outside college, killing sprees.

I'm not about to argue that some kids were not genuinely helped with these drugs, but I'm sure we can all agree passing out those little pill prescriptions became abused. My own step son was told he could not return to school until his mother put him on medication. (thankfully through the years I had been giving her reports about the seriousness the long term results were showing and she chose to home school him instead) He is not hyper, he was just bored. He lacked self control and the school lacked the capacity/patience to expect it from him. Imagine our lack of surprise to learn that schools get more federal money per child, if a child is labeled with a disability, and if he/she is on ADD/ADHD meds, it classifies.

*off Vent box*

Anyway

Am I the only one seeing this particular thread of connection in the violence thats on the rise?
I am not a medical doctor, I don't play one on TV. I am in certainly NO place to be giving medical advice. So all of this is from my own very limited experience. Earlier, in my venting ire I only put this in passing "I'm not about to argue that some kids were not genuinely helped with these drugs," to address that some kids are actually helped. Lets explore that. Some people are CERTAINLY helped by medications available today. I'm so very glad for them to have the opportunity at normalicy through the pharmaceutical company. This post is NOT about them.

I'm not interested in finger pointing, what is done is done, but the repercussions that seem to be coming from that generation of kids that were medicated throughout their young life deserve some conversation. How can we help others who may be dealing with this same confused rage before they explode without talking about the possibility of the connection? It's uncanny how these massacres are instigated by people that are 'off their meds' and it bears the question: WHY do so many flip out in violence without them?

My points on the haziness come from experience with and conversations with long time friends that were on the drugs. I've yet to meet personally a person that did not describe their time with the meds as foggy or 'dulled down' once they have been off for a while. Doesn't make it true for everyone, just my own limited experience.

It's very sad, and none of this helps those parents whose children are now gone forever because someone else lost control of their actions.

It's that time again

Where my young men start having birthdays out the whazoo.

How can I possibly be old enough to have a TEENAGER? Seriously, thats gotta be a typo on the birth certificate. I only just hatched him a couple years ago. Never mind he is taller than me, his voice cracks, his sense of humor is sharp, almost too witty. Body odor aside, I still want him to crawl in my lap for snuggles, but my lap isn't big enough anymore.

*sigh*

Yes I grounded him for aging. Again. He never listens and continues to do this every single year. Insolent little man he is.

Time to make the birthday cakes.

To knit or to clean?

Been plowing away on the lil ole Forest canopy shawl. For some reason I'm getting arm cramps.
Arm cramps from knitting? I must be hopelessly out of shape.

Took himself to the airport this morning....Ahhhhhhhh.
I tell ya, I had no idea there was a 'slow season' in his line of work. Having him home for 6 straight weeks really threw a monkey wrench in all the habits and routines we were just getting used to. I don't understand why, but I am the laziest creature when he is around. When he is gone, the house is clean clean, like dust free, all laundry is washed/dried/put up within 24 hours of it being worn. The vacuum cleaner cries for mercy and even with 5 kids, I manage to keep the kitchen and living room clutter free. When he is here....not so much.
Like take tonight. We moved Bible study to Tuesday nights to help with some peoples schedules, and my Lost watching (hehehehe). I popped him on the plane, returned home only to discover that I have a heck of a lot of cleaning to catch up on before I have company over tonight. The pantry is pretty bare too. *sigh*

I foresee not having much knitting time today....ahhh well, at least he is working again.

Lizard ala Loo

MOM there is a gieco salesman in the pot! Come look!

Sure enough, there was a little fellah in the potty. Better make sure he is dead *gentle prod* oh hey! yes! He's alive!! Whoot! Boy 1, go get your old hermit crab habitat, Boy 2, go grab some fresh grass, Boy 3, get some of the peach out of the fruit salad.
Poor little thing just lost his tail, the blood scab is still bright red. Obviously freaked out, I would be too if giants were handling me and squawking. Never seen this color before, like a pale peach with red highlights. Kinda spiky. I should name him Velvet or Smoothie
Fat bugger, so not undernourished by a long shot. Hiding his front right limb so often I thought it was missing at first too.
Now where in the world did he come from??? really, I'm kind of a neat freak and bugaphobic. I clean/bleach the heck out of that room so often that you would think any critter would steer far and clear just from the fumes. Granted I've had the windows open because of the nice weather, but again, ANY room but the chemically sterile bathroom....and he was found IN the toilet floating. The boys thought he was dead actually.
There is a vent directly above the toilet, thats my best guess, that he came from there.
Of course that leads me to wonder: Just what the hell has he been eating in my vents that has him so fat and happy....and who/what stole his tail in there? EEEK *insert loud girly scream*

He is now safe enough. Has fresh fruit, have the boys seeking crickets and other small insects outside. Has water, fresh grass, some climbing sticks, a hidey hole and a hot rock for warmth.

Where did he come from?
And what happened to his tail?
A brand new FunHouse mystery begins......

cracks me up

I just can't stop giggling at this little dictator bird, cracks me up.

Happy Blogday to me

I had no idea until I was peeping at my profile that it was my bloggerversary. How is it possible it's been a year? I swear Jessie just bullied me into having one of these things a month or so ago. Sheesh.
What does one do for a bloggerversary?
Me? I talk about my day and how it started out with the usual random chaos that seems to rule my life.
Ebear actually ROLLED THE JEEP.

A power wheels jeep. pow pow powerwheels testosterone makes it go.

Yessir, he rolled it.

No one was hurt except maybe his mother who jumped in and out of her skin 4 times before getting to the Jeep to check on the kids.
They were fine, Evie was doing her best impersonation of a back seat harpy reading him the riot act about not having the right tires to climb mount suicide (a small hill in the back yard).

This event was not related in any way to those two trying to escape the family back 40 (feet) and had everything to do with him being his fathers child.

I wish I had it on film *sigh*

Father was smacked smartly about the head with a newspaper for passing his thrill seeking idiot genes to the boy child. To make it sting all the worse, I, er, the assailant used the political commentary section. Doctors assure that he will be fine after some physical therapy....personally I don't think he will work his brain any harder now than he did before and the damage had nothing to do with the paper to begin with and he is just being a whiny baby. But I digress.

A pink and white Barbie beach patrol Jeep.
Oh the humanity.

Then we get to the afternoon which started off quiet, if not entirely sane. Ebear is outside my window this very moment standing on top of his rocket ship yelling at the squirrels. I think they are at war. I hear something about 'onnicles' which translated means Bionicles, a lego robot creature. I suspect the dratted gray tailed bandit made off with a part from Ebears stash and hell hath no emphatic plans like a 4 year old on a mission.
Evie, being the smart one (IE the girl) has decided to take her babies inside and is putting them all down for a nap. One baby is clearly not behaving because she is threatening to not read a story unless baby hushes.

The older boys are just whining about wanting to go to Mardi Gras today. It's Joe Cain day, which means it is the day to get drunker than hungry raccoon on a spring afternoon under the mulberry tree, if you know what I mean.
Not kid friendly.
So they are pouting and being insolent.

Big Daddy is recovering from his head trauma and attempting engineering.

How are you this fine Blogaversary Sunday?