the girl who had a bad hair day and everything that followed...

A year ago I gave birth to this little wonder right here.

my little Eli-phant

So to celebrate his momentous milestone, we planned a joint party with some friends, one who has a birthday on Sunday, and my FIL who has his birthday Monday.

Saturday morning I wake up, do some housework and then set out to run errands to get ready for our get together.

I take Zack with me as the first order of business is to allow the boy to see again by getting him a haircut. We go to the same place we always go and I describe what I'd like to the stylist. "Surfer cut, chunky and shaggy, bring the hair in the back up to the nape, and shorten the bangs to above the eyebrows."

I was picturing something like this:

What we ended up with was this:

Not really the look I was going for. A brown football helmet with a circle cut out for the face. So I try again. I show the stylist a picture on the wall. I repeat, "chunky, shaggy, skater style, Zac Efron."

So she cuts and snips some more and Zack ends up with this do:

Definitely NOT what I had in mind. I'm sure its a good cut technically, but it is not what I described or what I showed from the picture. I was pretty disappointed and actually, quite mad. I had to go to Target next door, so I figured I'd walk around for a little bit and see if I could get used to it. If not, we'd go back afterwards and get a different stylist to see if we could fix it.

So we go to Target and I'm looking for gifts for my boy, our friend, and my FIL. I find these (Jen Jen, they don't make them in larger than 18 month size, but they DO have the cutest little robot hoodies up to 4T, thought you'd like to know.)

Gift for baby, check. Gift for friend, check. Gift for FIL...not so much.

So I call home and ask dh what a good present would be. He is absolutely no help whatsoever and in my present state of mind, I'm not really in the mood. The ensuing conversations had me in a state of extreme frustration. THEN I get the news that we are expected over at the friends' house ASAP as the birthday girl had been called into work. So no going back to get Zacky's hair fixed. So I'm frustrated at Zacky's hair, irritated at dh's "cooperation" (or lack therof) and now I'm in a rush too!

So I stop by Publix on way home to pick up the birthday cake. I had not been particularly enthused about any of the birthday cake designs in the book at the bakery and had not pre-ordered a cake. I figured, they were all so "meh" why spend the extra money on a trademarked design? I planned to just get a generic decorated cake from the cooler and have them personalize it. I grab one, give them the names and rush to pay and get home. After I finish paying, I'm walking out (in frustrated, irritated, rushed mood) with Zack trailing behind me, and I TRIP OVER A DISPLAY which sends me to my knees and the cake flying.

I had had it.

I broke down.

I covered my face with my hands and just gave up, crying in the middle of the highest traffic area at Publix with an embarrassed boy behind me and a squished mass of buttercream and marble cake in front of me.

A very kind bagger came over, and overlooking the insanity factor, helped me up, guided me back to the bakery and helped me get a replacement cake. He carried it out to the car, wished me well, and told me to bring Eli by to show him off. He was a lifesaver. I don't like breaking down in Public like that. I prefer to maintain the illusion I have it all under control, but it just seemed that all the little things were hitting me hard that morning.

In the end, I got my cake:

We went over to the friends' house and enjoyed it:




We found the world's tiniest frog swimming in the pool:

and generally had a much improved evening.

When we got home, I stripped Eli down and gave him another piece of cake for the gratitious icing shots. Let me tell you, this kid is pretty neat compared to his brothers. He barely got any on him! A trifle disappointing, actually. lol.

But, he certainly thought it was yummy!

Yes, that is the secret to neatness: lick your fingers clean!

And Papa Smurf was celebrating right alonf with us. If you ever wondered what happened to Parker, we passed him on to Papa Smurf. He fell in love with him and now he's not so lonely anymore. Parker has grown into a MOOSE! But he is still a huge old teddy bear.

Abuello has left, and he took Zacky with him. Yep, he has kidnapped Zack for the week and will return him next weekend. We talked on Sunday night and I told him I missed him already, the house was so quiet. His reply was, "I know why! My brothers must be sleeping!"

lol!

the girl who is putting away money now for the therapist bills

Here is a life lesson in parenting...ask a nine year old to clean his (shared) room before he is allowed to go outside and play on the first weekend of summer vacation and you will get:

• a lot of huffing and puffing and general stamping of feet
• an annoying whine listing all the reasons why the mess is not his fault
• angry, pouty, tears
• and a LOT of yelling and screaming and general bossiness directed at his younger brothers

Eventually you will grow tired of the noise coming from the room in question because now you have not only a po'd, frustrated and yelling nine year old, you have a sulking five year old throwing things, a screaming, crying four year old, and a nearly one year old squealing in delight at the action being played out before him.

The prudent parenting reaction would be to take the nine year old out of the equation for a moment and explain to him in your deadliest-I-am-being-serious-ignore-me-to-your-peril-voice that if he would just STOP the yelling at his brothers, buckle down and DO IT, then he could be outside (and, not so coincidentally, out of your hair) playing on his new Razor scooter in less than an hour, but by continuing to yell at and boss his brothers around he is not only prolonging the chore at hand, but he is also creating a situation guaranteed to work his mother's last nerve and ensure that somewhere along the line there will be CONSEQUENCES and he most likely will NOT like them.

If you are extremely lucky, this will work, the room will be cleaned, the boys will be let loose to wreak havoc on the neighborhood and you can go back to folding laundry in (relative) peace.

However, if you are me, you will get this little gem:

"But Moooom! I just have anger management issues!"

the girl who went to see Santa

So I braved the crowds and took the kiddos to go see Santa Claus this weekend. I am a Bad Mommy. It was the first visit for everyone except Zack, and he hadn’t been since he was three I think. Every new kid decreases my interest in leaving the house. However, I figured that I really did need to do this if only to try to extend the magic a little longer for my eldest who is 99% sure Santa Claus does not exist. Strangely enough, he does still seem to believe in the Tooth Fairy. Then again the Tooth Fairy brings money and perhaps he’s afraid if he stops playing the game, the $$$$ will dry up.

(Aside story: Zacky lost a tooth last week, but it had a cavity in it. He jiggled it so much trying to work it out early, that it broke, so he only presented the tooth fairy with half of a tooth. The Tooth Fairy only left half of a dollar bill and didn’t take the tooth (that part was unintentional, but that’s what happens when the Tooth Fairy’s husband fills in because the Tooth fairy went to bed early). So when Zacky asked if half a dollar bill was worth anything, I told him, “Not without the other half. I bet half of a tooth isn’t worth anything to the tooth Fairy and she was trying to tell you to take better care of your teeth.” I think he bought it. He’s been brushing much better since then.)

Back to the Santa story. Downtown Disney really has the best Santa Claus. Real hair and beard, snowy white and the right build. And while he isn’t exactly “jolly” he certainly looks benevolent. I think he could get cast as God in the next 10 Commandments if he lost his “bowl full of jelly.” Lol. Seriously, he does have a really “all knowing” look about him. Well, we got to the line and it didn’t look too long and then they put up The Sign.

You know.

The one that says, “Santa has gone to feed the Reindeer and will be back at ____”

Great. Half an hour of standing in line with four kiddos and not even advancing. Just great.

And about that time, the temperature decided that after weeks of 80 degree weather in December, it would be a good time to drop the temperature about 15 degrees. Of course I hadn’t made the kiddos bring jackets.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

Have I mentioned we haven’t been to see Santa in years? Now you know why.

Anyway, thanks to the family behind us and their kids because they kept my kids entertained with games like, stroller shake, toss the popcorn, and, my favorite, SCREECH! Those parents were so understanding, and I think they took pity on me, standing in line with a hyper 8yo, whiney 5 yo, and no fear, not gonna mind Mommy 4 yo with a 5 month old strapped to my chest. Why haven’t mothers evolved extra arms?

When the reindeer were fat and happy, Santa came back to the tune of “Here Comes Santa Claus” and then he completely floored me by actually walking through the line of kiddos waiting to sit on his lap, shaking hands, giving hugs, and tickling baby’s chins. It was such a thoughtful entrance. Zack almost seemed to get that spark of belief back meeting the Big Guy in person. Matthew was so overcome by awe that he hung back on the sidelines and Ian—well Ian though the music was too loud, so he stuck his fingers in his ears and wouldn’t even look at Santa!

When it was finally our turn, Matthew had regained his courage and his charm and stuffed Geckie (his security blanket) under his shirt and walked up to Santa with his big belly going “Ho, Ho, Ho! I Santa!” I can’t believe I didn’t get a picture! Bad Scrapper! Bad! But he made Santa laugh! They were quickly shuttled on and off Santa’s lap (ugh! I know its necessary, but I wish they could have spent some more one on one with the Big guy) and gave their lists to Santa very quietly (for my kids).

Zack wants a Wii, a DS and Pokemon: Diamond and Pearl game to go with either. (In his dreams!) Also, High School Musical 2; the extended edition. (That’s the important part, it MUST be the extended edition. I don’t think they even MAKE a non extended version, so he’s pretty safe there.)

Matthew wants a Cars bed, and Cars Toys, and Cars game. Basically, put Lightning McQueen on something and he wants it. They could sell Cars broccoli and he’d want it.

And Ian. My sweet, precious Ian. His needs are simple. He just wants some crayons and paper.

I think Santa can arrange that!

Eli, of course, is too young to want anything besides his next bottle, so he was singularly unimpressed. Plus he’s nursing a cold, so he wasn’t his usual smiley self.

So the kids got their requests into Santa, a little magic was restored in my suspicious 8 year old, and Mama got her pictures. Sort of.

Afterwards, instead of a picture, I was handed a card and sent on my way.

Wait, what?

No instruction or anything, just a little business sized card with a website address and an ID number and NEXT! To the people behind me.

What?

Disney has a program where every time you stop and have your picture taken, they assign it this special ID number and you can basically get your entire Disney vacation online. You can view and share the pictures and order prints or even just the cd with all the images to print yourself ($12.95 per print, $124.95 for the photo cd) Yep, Disney always finds new and creative ways to make their $$$ while making it more convenient for their guests to spend it.

But I wanted to walk out of there with an actual picture!

So I sigh, and figure online ordering won’t be so bad and go off with all my little duckies in a row to Ghirardelli’s for some of the world’s best hot chocolate. On the way there, we pass the Guest Service Building and notice a family that had been behind us in line striding purposefully in as another family that was ahead of us came walking out…looking at a picture.

Light bulb!

So I go in and see that we can view and order our prints there. Let me tell you something. I have worked in Orlando for nearly 15 years, and one thing I’ve learned is that Disney really does want and expect their employees to always be on, not have a bad day, and always treat each person as if they were put on earth only to serve them for that moment. I like that. I appreciate that. No matter how many times I am disappointed by bad service when I go out and about, I can always rationalize it with “What do you expect? It’s Wal-Mart after all.” (Or Subways, or Burger King, or McDonalds.) There are places where bad service just doesn’t surprise you. Disney is not one of them.

The guy behind the counter apparently had not gotten his dose of Pixie Dust that day because he was monosyllabic and offered no instruction or help at all. He just stood there, waiting on me to do…something. I finally had to say, “Pretend this is the first time I’ve done this and have no clue what’s going on.” And even then, all I got was a bored, “Pictures here, prices here. Choose which one you want.”

After waiting an hour to Santa with four kiddos in the rapidly colder weather, I really could have used a little Disney magic and I just wasn’t getting it.

And apparently, the photo ordering section doesn’t have a register. So I had to go to the store next door to pay and then bring the receipt back to pick up my picture. The added inconvenience of dragging the kiddos to and fro ate up my last nerve and we cut our visit short. We got the hot chocolate, grabbed a quick shot with Buzz and hightailed it out of there.

Still, I did end up getting a shot of the kids. I wish the photographers had actually tried to get the kids to smile…they will on cue, but were overwhelmed with the moment of meeting Santa. (Who was awesome in making sure he got full eye contact with each kid) But I understand with the cattle call nature of Santa Pictures and the line behind us they were rushed. I can understand that, but I also think my perception of the pictures was a little distorted because of the experience I had just had with the associate.

I wish I could share the picture with you so you could judge for yourself, but after all of that hullabaloo, I'VE LOST THE CARD!! So I guess extra prints are now out of the question. Lucky I go the one.

Even after all of that, we’ll go back to DTD next year for more because that Santa RAWKS! I’ll just try to either go earlier or find a time where the line isn’t so long and the boys can spend a little bit more one on one time.

Now all I have to do is help Santa out with the shopping and Christmas is done. Yay!

***************************************

In other news: Zachary continually tries to find ways around practicing his handwriting. One of the exercises he has to complete every week is to use each of his spelling words in a sentence. Well, he figures that if he can write a sentence that uses multiple spelling words, then he doesn’t have to write as many sentences. Pretty smart, huh? Of course, then you end up with sentences like this:

“Morning has two vowels and, of course, no planets.”

Snort!

*************************************

Gotta share the kiddos artwork with everyone. These are so going in the “save until they’re grown up and embarrass them with it on Prom Night” box. Just cute, nostalgic little memories no one but their Mama appreciates!

the girl who has some stories to share

We've been having trouble with bedtime.

Again.

It's a never ending cycle of tucking in and kiss! hug! and where is Geckie and Bunny and Puppy and I want my piwhow that's not my piwhow and potty! potty! I need to go potty! and Mommy, I thwirsty and kiss! hug! and laughs and giggles as wrestling ensues amongst the million stuffed animals and then there's the musical beds and I don't want so and so to sleep with me I want to sleep with so and so and go to bed! Go. To. Bed! and

GO TO BED!!!!

sigh!

Inevitably someone's butt gets red an hour (or two) later and once the histrionics die down they finally fall out.

So tonight, after a blah never quite rained but always looked like it was about to day where both Daddy and I had our patience tested at work and at home, I sat them down before bedtime and gave them The Speech.

"Ok Boys. 1, 2, 3, eyes on me. Are you paying attention?

Good.

This is how its going to work tonight.

I am going to tuck you in. I am going to give you kisses and hugs and tell you I love you. And then you are going to
go.
to.
sleep.

There will be no extra trips out of bed for any reason.

So go to the bathroom now. Grab your lovies now. Decide which blanket you want to sleep with now. Decide which bed you are going to sleep in now.

Once you are in bed, tucked in and kissed goodnight
that.
is.
it.

No giggling, no playing, no wrestling, no traveling from bed to bed. Do you understand?

Good.

Because the alternative is I just spank you now and get it over with. Are we clear?

Good.

Now you have two minutes to get everything you need to go to sleep.

Go!"

And probably because the boys had been nothing but trouble all day and might have sensed Mommy and Daddy were OVER IT they actually sort of did what I asked.

When I was tucking in Matthew I laid down in bed next to him to stroke his cheeks and scratch his back like he likes (I love it when he says in his little almost four year old voice, "Aww, that feeld GOOOOD!) he says to me, "Mommy, I have two piwhows. You sleep with me. Come on Mommy. Come onnnn!"

The expression on his face as he was trying to coax me into sleeping with him was adorable and the tone in his voice was too cute. So grown up and persuasive.

So I tucked the other two in and cuddled up next to Matthew, intending to just lay down with him until he fell out.

He then proceeds to tell me a story. I think it started off with him telling me about being woken up this morning by the garbage truck, but it went on to describe "fwying punkins" and the sun going up and down and the moon coming out and (slightly disturbing) the garbage truck killing him and him climbing a ladder (complete with sound effects and hand gestures) to the sun. He must have liked his own sound effects because he repeated them a few times and then started listing everyone he knew climbing a ladder (wadder) to the sun too. He ended it with an earnest, "And you too, Mommy!" and then just dropped his hands as if to say, "The end."

My child has the BEST imagination! I love it!

Of course, I ended up dozing next to hm, waking up when Aramis came to find me to tell me goodnight at ten o'clock. I contemplated just going to sleep then, but, of course, then Eli was up. So here I am, wide awake and trying to decide between organizing all my new scrap goodies and actually scrapping.

Either way, I should have some fun. But first I have to make sure Eli is settled. So I'm nursing Eli on the couch and I hear pages turning. Feeling thirsty, I call out, "Zack, I know you're up. Go grab me a Coke." (This is why I have kids, you know.) He takes that as permission to come spend some one on one time with me. All of the boys manage to do this trick at least once a week. It's kind of sweet and gives us time with the boys individually.

So he puts on the tivoed High School Musical and we watch and sing along together. And then a commercial comes on for some video game with Drake Bell that teaches you how to play guitar and he comes at me with this:

"I was thinking about learning to play guitar. Because if I learn to play guitar, I'll get a lot of girlfriends. But if I get a lot of girlfriends, I'll probably go CA-RAY-ZY!!! (little giggle here) Right, Mommy? So maybe I don't want a lot of girlfriends. I think just five. Yeah, I think five girlfriends would be ok."

Lord help me, he's only 8.

So, we're at the finale right now ("We're all in this to-ge-ther, WILDCATS!") and he'll be off to bed after Shar-Pay gets her cookies. (Yes, any Mom who has sat through HSM knows what I am talking about.) He's currently singing and dancing along and Eli is happily swinging and cooing along. Soon, I'll have MY time to scrap or organize and my blah day will end on a high note.

And I guarantee that I will wake up in the morning with Matthew at the foot of the couch (my temporary sleeping place until Eli sleeps through the night) and Ian asleep on the loveseat beside me.

The day was blah and I was at my wits end with the kids, but when you have stories like these to tell, it makes it all worth it.

the girl who has a third grader!

My baby started third grade on Monday. And I was NOT allowed to take pictures! (Apparently third grade is when it isn't cool for mom to play paparazzi in front of your friends.) I wasn't allowed to kiss him goodbye either. Hmph!

I really can't believe how big he's gotten! My goodness, I look down at Eli and totally wonder that Zack was ever that small. It seems insane to me.

He has the same teacher as he had last year, which I'm thankful for. She understands. At least understands him enough to not want me to drug him. I was so upset at his first grade teacher who told me on multiple occasions that I needed to have him tested for ADHD. It brought me back to my days with Ms. Besek in the third grade. I have zero fond memories of that woman. At least she tried to manage me by having me moved to fourth grade. As far as I know she never actually tried to drug me!

little man

Another sign of how much Zack has grown--he loves being a big brother to a baby. He is constantly asking to feed or hold the baby and is the first one at Eli's side if he so much as whimpers. He is so proud of his baby brother! At the Open House he was telling everyone about Eli's birth. (I think his teachers were more impressed than he classmates.)

You'll notice I said big brother to a baby. Yeah, the littles are wearing on him. He's a sneaky one though. He constantly scams his brothers out of prized possessions and snacks. I guess that's one of the perks of being the biggest, but I really can't let it continue. If only to spare my ears from the shrieks of "Zacky took this...Zacky did that!"

Eli update:

He had a Dr.'s appointment yesterday and had gained one ounce shy of a pound since his last visit. He has officially lost his "sack of sugar" status and is weighing in at a hefty 5 lb 13 oz. He's also sprouted an inch. Look at those chubby cheeks! I look at this face and I see a LOT of my Opa shining through. Maybe he'll be a musician too.





Taking Eli to work with me is actually working out pretty well. This is his little set up in the corner. That's the cradle my other Gradfather made for the grandchildren and it fits perfectly in that corner. He's usually a calm baby and when he gets fussy, I just put him in the sling and he calms down pretty quickly. Look carefully at this pic--he's SMILING!

And then there is THIS picture. Not something you'd expect from sweet, sensitive little Ian. Who's been teaching him bad habits?

Lol, what really happened is that he has a teeny, tiny cut on his finger and he was showing it to me. Had to take a picture you know, it's one of those things you just are obligated to do.

Plus, his "first pictures" from the hospital shows him giving the feathered salute as well.

He only LOOKS sweet and innocent!