You know what it’s like when you have one of those days where everything just goes the way you plan? The glory of goodness seems to be shining down on you, following you where ever you go? There are rainbows and sunshine and real sugar with no calories?  And in the parking lot of Walmart you spy the sweetest little cherub-like angel holding open the closest parking spot to the door? 

And he’s there just for you?

Yeah. Well, I’m not having one of those days.
Except the parking angel part.  I did get a really excellent parking spot.  So, there’s something to be thankful for.

Walmart had a computer error and came very close to not letting me pick up my site-to-store order.  This was frustrating for three reasons. 
#1, I had initially gone to the wrong Walmart.  So this quick trip was no longer quick.
#2, This is a Christmas present and there was no way I was heading back out on Christmas eve to pick it up after the issue was worked out. 
#3, Unrelated, but aggravating just the same, I was having an episode of morning sickness in the hour period of time I was dealing with the very nice but very unhelpful Walmart gal who just kept typing in the same thing and refreshing her screen hoping the information she was looking at would magically change.

Finally somebody thought to get the manager, who promptly hit the easy button.  It’s a $10 item.  Just give it to her.

I was supposed to hit the grocery store to finish up our weekly trip following the gift pick up.  However, after the Walmart episode I was too sick to even think about food shopping.

So I started the drive home.  That’s when I noticed I was almost out of gas.  Zena Warrior Van started berating me for it with her bing, bing, bing.   I don’t pump gas.  The odor… 

And Christmas traffic is just plain mean.  Seriously. I’m an easy going driver, always trying to show the other drivers a little grace when they’re stupid.  But let me just say that Zena got her name for a reason.  She’s a giant, white, 1 ton, 12 passenger beast of a van.  You might want to think twice about weaving around me and everybody, then cutting me off and slamming on your brakes with an angry scowl on your face in your cute little Volvo S40.  I’m driving a warrior of a vehicle.  You’re driving a metro sexual. Maybe you want to be a little more careful?  I’m not sayin’. I’m just sayin’.

Still, here in the midst of computer errors, morning sickness, and bad drivers I do know joy.  My husband is off of work for a couple weeks (yay!).  Nibbling on food eased my stomach yick.  The gestating one is rolling around letting me know there’s a new life in there, healthy and active. My boys did the dishes this morning.  And my husband scrubbed out the sink.

I’m going to attempt the world again in a few minutes.  Gotta get that grocery shopping done cause I sure ain’t doin’ it tomorrow.

And with that parking lot cherub that has been my companion the last couple days, I know everything is gonna be okay.

I haven’t been around much to blog lately. Well, I’ve been around. But just haven’t blogged because…
Well…
I really don’t know why.
What I do know that you’ve all been waiting on the edge of your seats wondering what is going on with us.

Or maybe you haven’t. Or probably you haven’t.
Either way…

We got home from out trip last night. The man turned on the water heater for me and I took a hot shower. That was all my tired, lazy behind could handle.

But I made up for that. Today I…
Went to the grocery store and forgot to hand over the coupons thay I’d been carrying around in my hands.
So, that was awesome.

Had an appointment with my midwife and found out Tricare has stopped covering her services.
Also very awesome.

Not

Finished all our Christmas shopping.
Painted names on all our stockings.
Created and packaged up a box for some very awesome people.
Ate a fun sized Milky Way.
Finished all the wrapping.

Um, almost.

Cleaned out the aquarium.
Did some other chores around the house.

So, what’s up for tomorrow?

Tomorrow I rest.

Because today, though mighty productive, was just too much.

I’m not going for supermom of the year or anything. I’m just trying to survive these next 8 weeks till the baby’s born, you know?

We are on a little trip right now.  We drove across the state because some young friends are getting married and it’s completely romantic and sweet.

This is one of those couples who have done things the right way. One of those couples you want your children to emulate when they get to marrying age.  One of those couples who take marriage seriously.

One of those weddings you can really rejoice over.

So we’re here and it’s about time to start getting ready to go, which can provide to be a little on the difficult side when you’re dressing 6 boys out of a suitcase.

And Daughter is gone.  My completely willing to help, awesome, mom just sit down and rest because you’re old and pregnant daughter. 
She and another young lady have this awesome occasion to apprentice under the wedding photographer. I’m so thankful for this unique opportunity for her but…

Dang.  I have to get everybody ready myself. 

Do you know where your church clothes are?

[blank stares]

Find them and bring them to me.

[crickets]

It’s so nice that at least one of my children, my sweet teenage daughter, cares about looking nice.  I never have to school her on dressing appropriately, or making sure her hair is done, or NO. You are absolutely not wearing neon green crocks with a suit jacket. 

But there are boys…

Ben is 5.  He has the cutest tuxedo-ish suit he begs to wear as often as possible.  While he won’t be attending the actual wedding, we are taking him to the reception.  I told him his tux would be fine and he remembered to bring each piece.

Except shoes.

Instead of his nice black shoes he brought his dirty tennis shoes.  The used-to-be-white ones with the dirt-black laces.

Um, no.

A little shoe switcharoo and it’s okay if he wears black converse high tops with his tux, right?  I hope so cause that’s what we’re doing.

I always forget about me when we’ve got to be somewhere.  I’ve got cute new clothes to wear though.

So, I guess it’s time I should start getting myself ready.

My boys, along with the neighborhood kids, play a sort of sandlot war game on a regular basis.
It’s kind of like a pick-up game. Whoever can play does.

It’s very 50′s. There’s even a Jack Russell Terrier involved sometimes.

There are Nerf guns. As well as plastic Dollar Tree weapons. And sticks, and fingers held up in mock gun fashion.
Different gun sounds mean different things. There is the regular bang, bang and pew, pew. And the tongue rolling spit sound of a machine gun.

They’re having fun. But it’s all very serious.

There are rules and guidelines.
Guards and prisoners.
And even death.

But only till mom calls… Boys!  Time to come in and wash up for dinner.

This process calls for soap. Lots and lots of soap.  In fact, go ahead and wash twice cause you know I’m gonna tell you to go back and scrub again.

Jesse is 23 months old. (I know I could just go ahead and say he’s 2 but I’m just not quite ready for that yet.)
The little guy watches his brothers and has learned quite a bit about sandlot style war.

When you point your finger at him and say bang he falls on the ground and dies.
All with a huge smile on his face. He still doesn’t get that death in sandlot war is a serious thing.

But, it’s hilarious.
He’s hilarious.

I love having boys.

We’d would love to have another girl.  Love to have another girl.

But my boys delight me.

Nothing monumental has happened today so I have nothing to blog about. And that’s fine by me.
However, I’ve read that a journaler (yes, it’s a word – just ask me) should write everyday.  And if you don’t feel you have anything to blog about or journal or however it is that you log your thoughts, you should just sit down and write.

Anything.  Whatever pops in your head.

So that’s what I’m doing.  I’m writing anything.  Not so much because I feel the need to write.  But because I’m riding in the car and I’m terribly bored.

It’s not working.

I still don’t have anything to blog about.  And I’m still bored.

Maybe I should write that Jesse(2) is entertaining us here in the front half of the van.  He’s singing, no handle bars, no handle bars, no handle bars, no handle bars, no handle bars, no handle bars, no handle bars, no handle bars…

It goes on and on. 

and on

and on

…

Or that Matthew(7) gets carsick when he plays video games in the car.  So we tell him, Matthew, remember that playing the game boy in the car makes you feel sick.

So he does it anyway and then cries suddenly because, I feel like I’m going to throw up.

This is a regular occurrence. 

Hello? Hello?…  Anybody home?  Think, Mcfly, think!

I could write how Sam talks about what it was like when he was 3.  For example, if Jesse slips in the dirt Sam might say something like,  Yep.  I used to slip in the dirt when I was 3.

But Sam is 3.

Or I could always just blog about the weather.
Today is significantly warmer than it has been lately.  It getting close to 70 degrees and that, people, is weather to celebrate.   I’m in the Christmas spirit!
I grew up in Charleston, SC.  I remember getting a lavender jacket I didn’t know I really, really wanted for Christmas one year when I was 9 or 10 or something.  I tried to wear it over to my friend’s house across the street but my mom said no, it was just too warm.  I was so disappointed. 

I look back and laugh at my then-self. 

Waking up to 80 degrees on Christmas day is like waking up in heaven. Only without the harps.

Ryan disagrees.  Strongly.

But he doesn’t like a lot of good things.  Like sweet tea.  Or flavored coffee creamer.  And he does like  Lowe’s, science and math, and flying helicopters. 

I don’t think I will ever get him.

This afternoon I got a text from my husband that said, flying over in 6 minutes.

It took me a second to realize what he meant by that text.  But when it dawned on me what he was saying I quickly grabbed up all my children and trucked them outside.

Then we stood in the driveway staring up at the super clear sky.

Staring.

Staring.

Staring.

Staring some more…

I’m sure our neighbors were like, what on earth is that family up to now?

It actually took more like 10 minutes.

So we looked like a bunch of weirdies again.  That’s nothing new.  And we got to see Ryan flying almost right over us!  
I do regret that in my haste to get out the door I didn’t think about having Kait grab her camera.  I had my phone in my back pocket and only thought about snapping a picture after I heard the chopper approaching.

Still, I got the picture – as unfantastic as it is. 

So there it is.  The man flies stuff.  In the sky.

He loves it.

I think he’s crazy.

There is this danger when you have animals.
Sometimes they don’t make it.
Sometimes things happen that you don’t expect.
Sometimes animals die.

Knowing this makes it no less painful.

We’re all mourning the loss of Kait’s baby squirrel. Wally passed away unexpectedly while the kids ate lunch. Somehow Kait’s Jack Russell Terrier got locked in the room with Wally.

I’m sure Jack didn’t mean to hurt the squirrel. He was just trying to play most likely.

That doesn’t make Wally’s passing any easier though.

We’d all come to really enjoy this little animal today. He was warming up to us. Eating out of Kait’s hand. Showing curiosity about everything.

But some things aren’t meant to be.

So we’ll mourn the loss of this adorable critter and be thankful for the time we did get with him.

Our hearts are broken.
My children are crying for Wally.
I’m crying for them.

And we’ll be sad for now.

I’m in list mode.

My kids love it when I do this.
Don’t ask them.  Just trust me.

There is this trip coming up and I hate coming down to the last minute not prepared.  So, I make a list and the kids and I mark off the things we have completed.

Um… What are we going to do with the squirrel?

We have pets.  This complicates things sometimes.

Does the lizard have crickets?
Do the snails have enough….  whatever it is that they eat?
What about the litter box? 
And cat food.
Has enough dog food been made?

And has anybody thought about that squirrel?

I remember the days when getting ready for a trip meant packing a bag, throwing a kid in a car, and just going.
Things have changed.

We’re huge.  That means whenever we go places we have to take extra things.  Like bedding.  No normal, sane family keeps enough blankets and pillows on hand to cover their own family and an extra 10 people. 

Okay, so we’re only 9 with the baby still in the belly.  But I get cold and sometimes count as 2.

Still, that amount of extra bedding would take up a lot of space.  I don’t even keep half that many extras on hand.  If all my family needed fresh blankets at the same time we’d find ourselves in a pickle.

I’m not really complaining though.

When we moved away from home in August we wondered how often we’d make it back to visit.  I never imagined that we’d get to return at least once a month.  And after our last visit and the spew-fest  that occurred, I can’t fathom how we’ve remained such welcome invaders in our friends’ home.  By this point, you’d think we’d be viewed more as something to swat at.  Like flies that just keep getting in because stop leaving that door open!

Like I said.  We’re huge.  6 of our children are boys.  We have dogs. 

And now a squirrel…

It can does get a little crazy.  You know?
Or maybe you don’t know.  But you can imagine, maybe.  Whatever your imagining, double it.  Then multiply that times 107.  That’ll get you close enough to have a good idea of the kind of crazy I’m talking about.

I said to my husband, don’t you think we might be overstaying our welcome with them just a little?
He rolled his eyes at me.  We’ve already had this conversation with them, remember? 

Saints.  I just don’t know how else to describe them.

They’re saints, I tell you.

I have a child who’s kind of a spaz.  In a good way, really. 

Except for tonight.

Spaz child was doing his best to get the rest of the ketchup to come out of the bottle.  Normally, to do this a person would check the cap on the bottle.  Spaz did so.  Then give the bottle a few firm thrusts downwards. 

Spaz didn’t do this. 

Instead, Spaz violently swung the bottle up and down, up and down in a crazed lunatic type fashion.

I foresaw disaster and was trying my darnedest to quickly form the words, don’t do that or the lid will pop open and ketchup will fling everywhere.

But I was too late.  The lid popped open and ketchup flung everywhere.

Here is where we repeat to ourselves, children are a blessing. children are a blessing. children are a blessing.

Have you ever tried to clean ketchup off a popcorn ceiling?  No, probably not.  You probably don’t have a spaz child who flings red tomato stuff everywhere.

But we do.  So we did. 

It was not funny.  At least not at first.  I wasn’t sure I’d end up finding humor in this until I saw Kait laughing behind her hand.  Then I knew I would eventually find ketchup on the ceiling funny and promptly instructed her to get a picture so I could giggle at it later when I was feeling more like laughing.

I’m glad we got the picture now.  But if I could have gotten Spaz’s actual ketchup launch on video…

Well, that would have been way mo-funnier.

Today I took a nap.

Then, not long after I fell into a comfortable slumber I was awakened from my peaceful dreaming by my daughter.  This is very unusual.

Mom, we have a situation.

She said this with such a serious tone that it made me wonder briefly if 911 had been called already.

We rescued (note word choice there) a baby squirrel from the front porch. What should we do with it?

Umm…  am I still asleep?

No, I’m not.

So, now we have a baby squirrel.  His name is Wally.  We were speculating where he came from and figured it must have been the trees that were trimmed from around our house this morning.  There was no mama squirrel coming to this little guy’s aid.  And since Kait is the animal whisperer… 

Seriously, the squirrel took to her like she was its mama. It practically lived in her sweatshirt pocket all evening.

I don’t know what will become of this little guy.  For now we’re feeding him fruit and a special milk replacement because, at around 7 weeks old he should still be getting some of mama’s milk.

Wally doesn’t like the milk much though.  However, he’s taken a serious liking to the apple wedge we put in his temporary home of a rubbermaid in Kait’s closet.  We’ll do more research on what the best squirrel food is tomorrow and see if he wants something a little more solid.

This is what happens when you homeschool.  You turn your back for a minute, or take a nap, and all the sudden you have a pet spider.  Or praying mantis.  Or snake named macintosh (Get it? A snake named Macintosh?).  Or one eyed rat (I didn’t blog about that one), Or squirrel.

Wally’s cute.  That’s more than I can say for the spider. Or the snake.

That’s probably why I am more okay with the squirrel.

Oh, and this is my 1000th post! 

Is 1000 blog posts celebration worthy? I ate some M&Ms but they made me sick.  Maybe I should just go buy something soft and fuzzy to mark the occasion.