DIE, Teletubbies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (And where the HELL is my coffee???)

There are a few children's "educational" programs that I cannot stand. I mean, I really, really detest them. Among them would be the one where all of the fuzzy characters speak in a "zoo-loo" language (or something of the sort), the one with the black guy dressed in a strange plastic outfit where (more) fuzzy things come out of his briefcase and dance around to nonsense music. I would have to rank the Teletubbies right at the top of this list. First of all, can we really classify these shows as "educational", when they barely speak one word of English? And when they do speak English, it's on the level of an 18-month old?? Who thinks up these things?



All of that to say... the remote is all the way across the room (go, go gadget arms!!) and my coffee is nowhere to be found (it was right next to me a second ago, how did I lose it??) My three youngest, ages 3, 3 & almost 2 are sitting here entranced by this nonsense show. I can literally see their language skills regressing! Great, and here's a promo for a NEW freaky show "Panwaba", sound like they all speak "Waba". Now, if only my coffee were still sitting next to me. I could take a sip and maybe that would fuel my lazy ass exhausted body to get up out of this oh-so-comfy chair so I could finally change the freakin' channel already!



I never in a million years thought I'd hear myself say this, but thank GOD, Barney's on!!

Happy Birthday, Dr. King

I woke all four of my soundly sleeping boys this morning at six o'clock. The Husband is out of town, so I had to wake them ALL up just to take the oldest to the carpool which meets at the park & ride about six minutes from my house. I would have kept him home, but he had a field trip to the aquarium that I didn't want him to miss. I woke the oldest first, since he can get himself ready while I'm getting the others dressed. I then went to wake the the twins, only to find that one had had diarrhea sometime during the night and it was crusted all over him (I know, nice picture) his sheets, pillow - everything. I had to draw a quick bath for him while frantically dressing the other twin and the baby (BAD mommy, leaving the twin in the tub alone!!) Twin One didn't want to come out of the bath, so wrestling his clothes on was fun. Shockingly, I made it out of the house with a few minutes to spare, so I stopped at D&D for some coffee for me and donuts for the boys (I know, I know, don't even bother telling me how bad all that sugar is before school.) Right at 7:25, I pulled into the park & ride. Nobody was there. Nice, I rush to get my FOUR kids out of the house, and they're sleeping in with their ONE kid each (actually, one of them has FIVE kids and one on the way, but only one goes to school and her husband is always there - plus, it sounds better for my story to say they each have ONE kid, so, for the sake of the story they have one kid each)... at least one of them is always late. The only time we're late is if Hubby takes them. Ten minutes go by. This is getting ridiculous. I start texting. "Are you coming today??" No response from anyone. Rude. I call. No answers. I guess I'm going to have to drive him in even though it's not my day! Then, my ears zone into something on the radio that's barely audible. "Blah, blah, blah... Martin Luther King, blah blah blah..."
Yes. I did know it was MLK day. What I did not know was that there was no school today. The field trip is next Monday. I was looking at the wrong week on the school calendar.


In related news, I got some desperately needed groceries. I went to the gym and worked my @$$ off for an hour. I even took the kids to Friendly's for lunch. All before noon! And all of which I would NOT have done had I known school was closed on MLK's birthday (I meant no disrespect, Dr. King, but hey, we ended up celebrating in style!)

And the Worst Mom of the Year Award Goes to...

Okay, so this blog is supposed to be mainly about my weight-loss journey, with a few anecdotes of family life. These days it seems like the mom side of things is overtaking the weight-loss side (as well it should, I suppose.) Well, that's basically how my life is going right now. I am focussing more on my crazy home life and less on my weight loss. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. I am still sticking to WW completely, it's just that after a long day the main thing on my mind is what happened with my crazies rather than what I ate for dinner (I had a salad I threw together if you're wondering, in between picking children up off the floor after they fell off a chair trying to watch a movie at the counter and tickling contests amongst the flipped-over footstools & chairs that are the make-shift fort that is my living room.) See, there I go.

All that to say that this, once again will be a post dedicated to mommy-hood.

It was another exciting day here at the Crazy house. I almost feel guilty relaying this story, but isn't that what the world of blogging is for? It all began fairly normally. Breakfast was a little iffy. The twins wouldn't touch their food. One of them was just sitting there staring blankly. I tried to get him to take a bite (he's the good eater of the two and it was waffles after all, who doesn't like waffles??) and he started to gag. Well, come to find out, he had a little fever and wanted to lay on the couch. All day. Yay! That's fine with me! So, the twins were pretty low-key. That gave me a little time to work on some laundry and tidying up that desperately needed to be done. Biggest Brother has been bugging me since last night to go outside sledding, but with one sick, and one semi-sick I couldn't really leave them and take the other two out.

While waiting for another load to dry, I sat down for a few minutes to catch up on some of my reads. I was in the living room with the twins, and Big Brother & Baby were upstairs. Or so I thought. They had followed me up & down the stairs a few times while I was putting away laundry and from the distance of their voices, the only logical conclusion was they were upstairs, and playing nicely. Until Baby started screaming. "What did you do to him?!?" I yelled. Biggest brother comes running into the living room - with his shoes on (??) "Baby was IN the street and almost got hit by a car!!" Nothing is processing. Suddenly it hits me, as I bolt for the (OPEN) door. There is Baby, standing barefoot in the snow on the front porch, screaming.

Now, I didn't see or hear any car. And I'm thinking if Baby was actually in the street, and if there actually WAS a car, wouldn't someone STOP their car and look for the owners of said baby? I think so. So I'm guessing there was no car. But still. How scary, right?

I Do NOT Get Paid Enough for this Sh!t

Have you heard this before once or twice? Well, in an effort not to sound too much like Dr. Phil in reference to mommy-hood as a profession, I will simply replay the wonderful evening I had with my boys and you can judge what I should be paid for this.



Note: Husband is thousands of miles away for the weekend hanging out with his buddies for work.



I'm rolling around on the floor with my 3 youngest hoodlums after their baths (I know, eww, dirty floor, clean kids, but oh well.) Baby is tackling me, laughing hysterically. Twins are playing their Leapsters trying to avoid my tickle fingers. Dog is trying to join in the fun.
"Did someone poop?" I smell poop, I KNOW I smell poop (as only a mom of 4 toddlers knows the smell.)
Nooooo!! all three shiny-clean, innocent faces chime together.
"Owen, you pooped, didn't you?"
No. I dinnent poop!
"Yes you did, I can SMELL it." (yes, I know the difference between the SMELLS of their poops. This didn't smell familiar, which usually means it's Owen - you don't want to know...)
No. I dinnent. See! He kindly turns around and sticks his butt in my face. I take a niiiice deeep inhale. (again - only a mom!) Nothing.
Huh. Emmett? "Did you poop Emmett?" (Baby)
Yethhhh. I boop!! Another sniff... Nothing. Little Turkey. Collin??
"Did YOU poop?"
No answer.
I sniff him... Still nothing.
{Enter Dog.}
"Gross!!! Get away from us, you smell like poop!!!" I check her out. She does smell like poop, KID poop, but I see nothing on her. I shoo her away and continue playing.

After a while, I realize that the oldest hasn't come down from his nap yet and it's 7 o'clock. I'd better wake him up. I go up the stairs. Is that dumb dog following me?? Pew!

...And there it is... at the top of the stairs... a crumpled up pair of underwear smooshed into the floor, and a path of poo... all the way down the hallway from the bathroom... all over the bathroom floor leading to a pair of pants... all over the toilet.

"JAKE?!?!?!"

No answer.
I look in his room. He's not there. I walk back down the hallway, trying to sidestep around the brown streak on the floor, over the underwear into my room. There is my little angel. Sitting on my bed playing his Leapster.
"I was sleeping and I pooped in my sleep!" He says eyes wide, brimming with tears, not sure if he needs to full-on cry to make this more convincing...
He needs to go straight to the bathtub. I take him to mine, it's closer... I stop dead.
Poop.
All over the bathtub.
MY bathtub!

Thus began my loooong evening of scrubbing bathrooms and steam-cleaning carpets. This is AFTER a long day at work (which is actually a long BREAK from my real job!) The only plus side is, I HAD to earn some activity points lugging that huge carpet cleaner up and down 2 flights of stairs and up & down hallways (of course, I had to do a once-over of each of their rooms while I had it up there!) Not to mention all the loads of laundry created by this little fiasco. Now if I could just figure out where that URINE smell is coming from in the living room...

Good grief!! If they weren't so damn CUTE, I'd have to QUIT!

Didn't Your Mother Ever Tell You Not to Hit Girls??

"Latte? SKIM Latte?" Okay, am I crazy for ordering a skim latte? Does that defeat the purpose? If you heard the incredulity in my co-worker's voice, you'd think I ordered my coffee with crack in it. Maybe I should be the designated coffee runner from now on, because after I had the gall to ask for skim milk, I added to it by asking for sugar-free french vanilla (I know, I'm such a prima donna) he stood there and stared at me blankly for a good minute. Sugar free? Do they make sugar free syrup? Men.

Speaking of crack. My 4 year old came up with something pretty funny. He asked for something during dinner, and before I could even begin my usual bribery (you know the one "if you eat your food... okay, if you eat three more bites...) wide-eyed, he stated "I know, after I eat my food... I have to eat all my food. If we don't eat our food, our skin is going to dry up and crack." Ummm... I'm thinking we can thank Grandma for this one. I can hear the conversation in my head ("If we don't drink enough water...") The skin-cracking thing runs in the family, and is usually brought on by washing too many dishes. Which is why I leave mine for the babysitter. ;)

TOM has hit me like a ton of bricks. I think he is quite ill-mannered. Isn't the gentler sex supposed to be treated with utmost care and kindness? I don't care what society is telling us about equality, I will teach my boys to open the door, pull out the chair, give up the last seat... And yet, once a month I am visited by the most unwelcome, impolite guest. Last night, after a long day at work, TOM decided to wreak havoc on my lower back. I couldn't even sit in my cozy chair and blog, or zone into a pointless two hours of American Idol. I had to wrestle the boys (who have a few manners yet to learn themselves) through dinner, bathtime and into their beds. Then I headed straight for bed. Sleep evaded me. No position eased my aching back. So I turned to my good friend, Advil PM (four, to be precise) and the comforting warmth of my heating pad and finally drifted off to sleep... three hours after climbing into bed.

Hence the fat-free, sugar-free, FUN-free latte.

My Weekly Respite

This is what I came home to after volleyball last night... so sweet!!
Gotta love getting home and they're all in jammies, have had their stories and are ready for bed. Looks like it went smoothly, doesn't it?? Don't be fooled, alot can happen under the not-so-watchful eye of Grandma... To name a few: a couple of pairs of underwear had to be thrown away ("Collin was dancing around, so I asked him if he had to go... but by the time I got him in there, he had already..." and you can guess the end.)





And this is the other thing that happened...

Collin tripped on nothing, I mean, the tile in the kitchen and his tooth went completely through his lip. Ouch. My mother told me this story as calmly as if she was telling me he finished all his dinner. My baby!! Notice he's as happy as ever with the gash in his lip. Little stinker. I just hope it doesn't scar. Ahh, the hair raising joys of raising boys!!**







After my grueling workout in the morning, I rocked at volleyball. I thought I'd be too tired to play well, but *gasp* I actually had more energy... I even jumped higher... I actually got a couple of fingers on the ball while blocking a huge hitting 6' something guy on the opposite team - woot, woot!! :) Maybe next time I'll actually stop him, ha ha. He's big, and he hits hard.

Oh, did I mention I lost 4 pounds this week?? Yeah, slight sidenote!! Which means I have fewer points... which means I need to work out more. :)











**the title of a book I read a while ago.

The Longest Thirty Minutes of my Life

Labor? No, but it felt like it - minus the pain meds! After waking up at 6:45 and taking my oldest spaz to the Park & Ride for carpool, instead of going home and going back to sleep for an hour like a sane person, I decided to torture myself and go to the gym. I haven't been in a while. Like a couple of months. During my last regular stint of gym-going, 30 minutes on the elliptical was a breeze. It could have been because I went with my bff Tina, and the minutes just fly by full of celeb-talk and people-watching. This morning, there were about 3 not so interesting ladies (although, I'm sure Tina and I could have found something to dish about - we always do!) in the women's gym. The closed-captioning on the morning news wasn't working. The print in the People magazine from last year was too tiny for me to see through my blinding sweat. I did have a little text-a-thon with said bff which I was sure had distracted me from my agony for about 20 minutes - until I moved my magazine and realized it had only been about five, during which the elliptical I was on decided to malfunction and actually make me feel like I was treading lead. Literally, when the incline went up, the resistance just stopped. I nearly fell off with my cell phone in one hand and towel in the other! Not to mention my heart rate read 49 when it was clearly somewhere over 200 (okay, that's a slight exaggeration, but pretty close!) Can someone please tell me what they're doing with our $180/month??? I mean, they just sent out a lovely letter telling us how they just spent $170,000 or so on upgrades and renovations and would have to raise our dues $10/month (as they do every year.) What exactly did they upgrade?!?! Nothing looks different to me than the last time I visited! I WANT MY MONEY BACK!! Unfortunately, it's automatically deducted from our bank account every month, so there's not much I can do. Anyway, I switched machines after what seemed like hours, but was actually only 17 minutes - 13 torturous minutes to go! The last thirteen minutes dragged by pretty uneventfully other than my face turning so beet red I wanted to walk out with my sweatshirt over my head.
That 38 degree air smacking my face has never felt better!! I rolled down the windows to try and cool down. It's an hour later and I still looked like someone smacked me, but you know what? I feel energized and I have a few extra points to use today! Hopefully the energy lasts through the day and I don't pass out from sheer exhaustion on the volleyball court tonight!