All Better Now!

The whining has ceased, at least for now. It's amazing how a nice steaming cuppa and clean clothes can change your entire outlook.




Have a great weekend!!!

Who Is Watching the Baby?

Never, ever assume the other parent is watching the baby. That should probably be enough to give most parents whiplash nodding in agreement, but I'll elaborate for the sake of clarity.

We love holidays. Especially Easter for its special meaning to our spirits, its significance in our lives, and its fun traditions. We really enjoy when it is time to dye the eggs.


See the lonely looking eggs sitting in the carton patiently waiting for their debutante party? They look like little no brand name generics in their white packages. All they need is the word EGG stamped in bold black letters. Or maybe not.

See the color tablets just sizzling in the cups? I love the smell of vinegar for this very reason. It reminds me of coloring eggs, and wine left in the fridge too long. But that's another post for another time.

See the look of patience on his face? See the look of leftovers on his face? Poor kid deserves a mommy who takes more pride in his appearance on the web.

Blastoff into colored egg land! By the way, the eggs are not a product of Chicken Elmo spotted in the background.

And they're just right! Perfect tones...hues...the density of the color is spot on. The texture of the colored shell and how it reflects the light is quite remarkable. Yep, that must be what J was thinking as he wrote on one egg the sweet sentiment N drools, J rules.

"I don't remember doing this last year. Do we get to drink the juice and eat the eggies?"

Here are the final results. Aren't they gorgeous? I'm sure you're wondering about the missing three. Don't ask. It's really a sad tale.

So where does the mishap with baby-watching come in? The night following Easter I was working on the computer, D was watching television in the back of the house (March Madness, baby!), and the Bigs were in bed. Babiest doesn't seem to realize there are times when small ones must sleep so he was playing throughout the house. As parents sometimes do, I thought D had him, he thought I had him, and Babiest was enjoying the freedom. He dragged his step stool up to the bucket of eggs, somewhat broken from the multiple hiding/finding games, and began stirring with a rather large wooden spoon.

The result was a disgusting concoction of colorful broken eggs smushed together for effect. We laughed when he was discovered, praised him for his "beautiful egg salad masterpiece," and refrigerated the evidence to show the Bigs the following morning.

Evenings when we are both preoccupied, we now are heard calling out frequently, "Who has the baby?...What is he into now?...What. Was. That. Crash?"

You Can Bring the Cheese...

...And I'll supply the whine. We'll have a nice little pity party, okay? What's wrong, you ask? How nice of you. I suppose if you're not the least little bit curious you could click the little X in the corner of your browser right about now.


Well, here's the problem. I ran out of coffee. It's a drastic thing, one that I really didn't plan on. It just happened, and I'm really suffering. I thought I had an extra unopened bag in the camper but, alas, no. Only a few boxes of cereal and a can of Pringles. No precious coffee. I tried to go buy a couple of bags today but got extremely insulted at the grocery and stomped out leaving my groceries on the conveyor belt. It's the principal of the thing, the thing being deceptive advertising, and I'm all about principals. Except when I need coffee. I almost went back and through another register, but I didn't have an extra hat in my possession to make a disguise.



I've also been fighting a headache for a couple of days. This afternoon I finally realized the correlation between the two. Insight, but still no coffee. I did manage to raid every last little bit of chocolate Easter candy I could find and polished off about a fourth of a bag of chocolate chips (it was all I had left). Still no relief. I'm going to a different grocery tomorrow.



My washing machine died. It lived such a short life and was such a pain in my side for its entire existence. I miss it only because I have laundry piling up. And I'm so not a laundromat kinda gal. I did go to one on Sunday afternoon, along with the rest of the population of washer-less people. They are an interesting and eclectic bunch. I don't think I fit in with them though. I spent the first five minutes of my laundromat visit wiping the inside of the machines down with my Lysol wipes. I have issues with germs, especially those belonging to other people that may soon be swishing through my underwear. I get hives just thinking about it.



I went washing machine shopping today. I've been looking forward to this day for the last three years I've had that pathetic excuse of a washing machine taking up space in my laundry room. I've narrowed it down to two or three models. After I had my heart set on a nice new space age looking machine sitting in my nicely decorated laundry room, I had the unfortunate insight to realize that my laundry room is backwards. The washer connections and dryer vents are on the wrong side of the wall for the machines I want and the doors do not reverse. I'm thinking I'll just buy longer cords, hoses, and vents, switch sides, and call it good. Or I could remove the overhead cabinets, stack the new units, and fill up the extra space with something fun like a new vacuum cleaner. I hope it all works out one way or another soon because I really don't want to go back to that laundromat. And D doesn't want to remove a wall of cabinets.



On a positive note, we've done some furniture rearranging and I now have a schoolroom. I no longer have a formal dining room, but it was merely used for stacking miscellaneous stuff I didn't know where else to store, so that's okay. We're enjoying it a lot and it's coming together nicely. I'll post pictures of it soon. As soon as it's organized. Okay, maybe you'll never see pictures, but you can see it when you come visit. Just don't tell anyone how unorganized it is, okay?



Unfortunately the schoolroom is not making school easier at the moment. I'm so tired of negotiations and complaints. Every statement is preceded with "Do we have to..." Dear sons, you have to. Trust me, you have to.



"So where is this whine headed?" you're wondering. Me too; I've been at it so long I lost my train of thought. Oh, I know. I remember now. The burning question is what does a caffeine withdrawing, washing machine deprived, headache-y mom do when feeling especially snarky? She turns it around and has fun with it, of course. There's no sense in living if you can't have fun with the bumpy parts too. So as an introduction to our new schoolroom, I created a sign welcoming new students and their visitors.

Provides much needed insight into the school and its pupils, don't you think?

Of course I'm just kidding with all of the whining. I've got my tongue planted firmly in my cheek and I'm very blessed with my life, bumps and all! Enjoy your day and have a little fun too!

The Great Play Dough Adventure

Most parents take certain things for granted. For M, though, the idea of pulling out a couple of cans of play dough for his entertainment wasn't possible because... Store bought play dough is made of flour. The flour is made of wheat. Wheat contains gluten. Gluten is a no-no.



Kids eat play dough. Have you ever met one who hasn't? For that matter, I'm sure if you reached back into the recesses of your mind you can remember the distinctly salty taste of play dough yourself. I'm right, I know it.



To build childhood memories as normal as possible for the three of them, I pulled out some rice flour, salt, and food coloring and made them some play dough. Of course M ate so much I thought he would get sick from it. But when the Bigs pulled out their play dough toys it all became apparent what the stuff was for. It was for playing and snacking.



Fun memories!