Quinn

Quinn has a whole slew of new things that he is doing...

• He can spell his name.
• He tells ladies that they are his best girl.  For example, "Mama, you my best girl."
• He likes to hide for the last person home to find him, and then he jumps out and yells, "Boo Prize!"
• Hen continues to call Ike, Bikey.  Big sigh.  Which makes me think that the dog may need a name change.

And not to leave the girls out, they also have a whole slew of new things that they are doing....

• They can now argue with the wall, properly throwing attitude at it in the form of eye rolling and crossing their arms over their chests.
• They can try on 5 different outfits in a morning and then put 4 of those outfits in the dirty clothes.
• They now think that Chris and I are complete idiots and that we have spent the past 33/32 years living under a rock and know nothing about life on Earth.  

So far, I like Quinn's new things much, much better.

Random Information

This is the email that I sent to my mother earlier today:

Ok, you have to go to the Pioneer Woman website today...

http://thepioneerwoman.com

look under the "cooking" tab

Please make the rosemary skewers and the linguine salad for me.

Please. I am begging you. As your only child. Feed me, Seymour!

And I love you.

Angie :)

I have spoken with her since she read the email (it made her laugh) and she will, in fact, make these dishes for me. Chris does not particularly care for this type of food, so I feel bad begging him to make them for me. Especially because they seem labor intensive. But, I am not above begging my mother. And now you have proof that the way I write on my blog is also the way that I write to my mother. You should feel special.

I discussed the issue of the fighting children with Frankie. She is often a wealth of parenting (among other topics) knowledge for me. She has 4 children of her own, so she is my expert. Right next to my grandmother, who had 6. Anywho, this was the advice offered. With her children, they live by these two rules...
1. If you do not treat your siblings with respect during the day, then you do not get to snuggle and sleep with them at night.
2. If you use your hands to hurt, then you have to hold hands with each other for the rest of the day.

I think this is great advice and I will be implementing it at once.

Quinn has escaped twice from his room during nap time today. He did this by popping off the safety cover on the door knob. Um. Yeah. This is not okay. Nap time is the time where I get to regain my sanity. He cannot escape from nap time. So, Chris will be turning the door knob around to put the lock on the outside of the door. Just in case its needed.

And speaking of Chris....he is ill. He ran a 102 fever all night (and since Casey was sleeping in Chan's bed, I slept in Casey's) and paid a visit to the immediate care this morning. They said that he has a severe ear infection, but Chris says that it feels more like the flu. Big sigh. Yay! Summer!

ps - Now go and enter the giveaway!

I See a Cage Match in Their Futures

We have tried to separate them. Really, we have. We put them in different classes at school. They participate in different extra curricular activities. They have their own bedrooms...not that it matters, they still sleep together every night. When one asks to go outside, the other one wants to go too. When one wants to watch TV, so does the other. We force them to spend alone time in their room everyday, doing their own thing, but clearly nothing is going to solve the issue of fighting.

This morning: Chris was at a workshop. Quinn was at the sitter's. I told the girls to get dressed while I took a shower so that we could leave on time for my hair cut appointment in Athens. As soon as I turned the water off, I heard them. Casey's shrill, angry voice, "Say it like you mean it!!!" and then Chandler screaming her head off. I figured I should dry off and get dressed before making an appearance. I mean, I don't see what good it does for me to referee every single little incident between the two of them. They need to start learning how to handle things on their own. They also need to learn when they should come and get me to settle a matter.

Apparently, I do need to still step in and apparently, they do need some more training on solving their problems and on when to get mom before resorting to violence.

I stepped into the hallway just in time to see Chandler slam the door on Casey's finger. As soon as they saw me, they both began sobbing hysterically and continued screaming at the other one, and to me about the other one, trying to save their own skins.

Here's what happened: Casey came into Chandler's room so that they could jump off Chan's bed onto the air mattress that is still set up on her floor. In the jumping, she stepped on Casey's head. Casey cried foul and began screaming for Chandler to apologize, which she did, but Casey insisted that it wasn't sincere and that she needed to "say it like she meant it." (That was the screaming I heard when I got out of the shower.) Chandler swore that she did, in fact, mean it. Casey got in Chan's face, still screaming at her, and then Chan proceeded to bulldoze her out of her bedroom into the hall. (Her logic being that Casey never asked to come in her room, and while it was all good when they were jumping off the bed, it was not ok now that Casey was screaming in her face.) Only Casey grabbed hold of the door frame and refused to leave. (think Garfield) So Chandler slammed the door on her, pinching Casey's finger in the door.

I took care of the injury, but did not pass out sympathy. They were still yelling at each other and we had to leave so as to not be late.

The rest of the day has been fine. I think they're afraid of what I might do if they behave that way twice in one day.

Is this a twin thing? What do I do? Their fighting is increasing the older they get. Big sigh. Mabry? Erin? Melinda? Anybody?

Observations Made by Casey and a Happy Birthday to Uncle Mark

My children are brilliant. Really and truly. And yes, I am talking about all 3 of them.

Chandler is amazingly tenderhearted and kind; she is brilliant in her social skills. We actually insisted that the girls be put in separate PreK classes because up until that point Chandler made friends for the both of them and Casey just tagged along. She is also (clearly) an amazing reader...or just an amazing test taker (a prefect score in Reading on her CRCT). Either way, its another sign of brilliance.

Quinn has a great memory. He knows where he puts things...where I put things...where his sisters and daddy put things. He scratched his cheek today and I said, "Oh, Buddy, did you get a scratch?" and he responded by pointing to the spot on his arm where he used to have a scratch. For only having 4 words in his vocabulary, he communicates A LOT! Seriously, brilliant.

Casey is another genius child in our family. (How we were blessed with 3 of them, I'll never know.) She made this observation while watching a soccer match with Chris the other day, "Daddy, have you noticed that almost all of the soccer players have black hair or are bald?"

Have you ever watched a soccer match on TV? This is absolutely true. Brilliant observation!

And Happy Birthday to Uncle Mark...the man who does cannon balls into the pool (over and over and over again) so that the children can "ride the waves."

Quinn is an Only Child

It is strange not having the girls here. I really can't remember when the last time was that we had Q alone. Whenever it was, it has definitely been awhile. Yesterday was rainy and yucky and we had to get creative in what we should do with our only child. He slept until 9:30am (hooray!), ate a big breakfast, and then watched a little TV (while Chris and I laid on the couches and read while the rain came down). He took a shower with dad, lounged on the bed with mom, and then we broke out the paints.
Although he is very serious about his art, he is also a super speedy, prolific artist. We laughed as we recalled how the girls used to be the same way...it would take us 15 minutes to set up a craft and then they would paint/playdoh/clay/cut and glue/build for 6 minutes and have 92 new creations in those 6 minutes and then be ready to move on to something else. Oh, the attention span of a child.

Look! He made a Z!

After the painting, we ate lunch. He loved the left overs of my mom's potato salad and would say "YUMMMMM!!!!" and do a little dance as he was eating it. After lunch I began to have a little crisis that we didn't really have a plan for the day. I'm a planner and it rocks my world when there is no plan. It was wet and rainy, so the park and other outdoor activities were not options. I didn't want to be tempted to spend money, so the mall was out. And then Chris had a brilliant idea...there is a huge furniture store in an old mill building up the road from our house, so he suggested we go there and just let the boy run up and down the aisles of furniture. Chris sold me on the idea by saying, "It'll be fun. And it'll remind me of our first date." Which is true. On our first official, actual, I think I might want to date this person date, we went to Jillian's to play some games and then wandered through several furniture stores. You can tell a lot about a person and whether or not you're compatible by the type of furniture they like. So, we grabbed the diaper bag and headed out. Quinn had a great time for about 40 minutes, then laid himself out in the middle of the aisle and began pitching a fit, which was then our cue to head back to the house. It was perfect timing for his nap.

Last night, Drew and CB came over with Loralai and a couple of pizzas for dinner. I love having them over. We've been friends long enough that its ok that my house is a wreck and I don't have on any make up. Q and Loralai are destined to be great friends. They go to school together and are always so surprised and excited when they see each other outside of school. At the dinner table last night, Q just kept looking at L with this look of disbelief that she was actually there. Eating. At his house. In his kitchen. After dinner, us adults sat on the couches, chatting, while the kiddos roamed and chased each other in laps around the living room. I tried to get a picture of them being sweet to each other, but it was not going to happen. Here's what I did capture...

Sneaky Children

The girls had a luau at school today. They announced it to me on Wednesday with a plea for grass skirts. If there had been a weekend in between the request and the party, I would have considered making a trip to Party City and getting grass skirts...but there wasn't...so I told them no. A grass skirt purchase would require going into Athens, something I am not typically willing to do during the week. We live in the country, people, and no grass skirts for the luau are the price we pay. Then they asked if they could wear their pool shorty shorts....um, no. See, when both of your parents work in schools, you tend to have to be big followers of the dress code.

Chris (who usually doesn't pay attention to what the girls are wearing in the morning - like capris in the middle of December) was on to them this morning. They had on shorts with jackets zipped all the way up. They were trying to hide the fact that they were wearing tank tops to school. And they were busted.

The ironic thing is that I was just telling the media clerk at work today about how the girls are pretty good about following dress code and how strict we are about it. No short shorts, no flip flops, no tank tops, and that the girls know and understand these rules. I guess knowing and understanding wasn't stopping them this morning from being sneaky.

Its All Fun and Games Until You Have to Visit First Aid

These are pictures of the children on our way to the game. Chris and I felt like we were getting an F in parenting because the girls are 8 years old and had never been to a baseball game before. So when the opportunity came to go with a group of people from my school to the Gwinnett (not Atlanta) Braves game, we jumped on it. For some reason (which I really have no idea what it was) I thought bringing Q would also be a good idea. Um, yeah, it wasn't.

It took us about 45 minutes to get there, park and find our seats. And when we found them Q looked at us like, "What? You want me to sit? I just rode peacefully for 45 minutes in the car. Its time to run." He's nonverbal, so he said all of this through eye contact and grunting, but we understood.

Chris took his turn first and walked him from one end of the stadium to the other and back again. They returned and Q still wasn't having it, so I took a turn. The first two minutes and 18 seconds into my turn was great! We ran in the grassy area. We danced. It was excellent. And then he took off running on the concrete, and I had to take off after him. Music was playing, so thankfully he stopped to dance some more and I caught up to him. But then he realized I was standing next to him, let out a wild whoop and went to take off again. Only he caught the toe of his shoe on the concrete and in slow motion he fell...onto his face...on the concrete. He couldn't break his fall with his hands because he was holding a snack pack of cookies. And to make the whole situation even better, a guy who worked at the stadium was directly behind us and immediately whisked us away to the first aid station.

Q busted his lip. It bled. It bled quite a bit. But if you know Quinn, then you know that he has an unbelievable threshold for pain and a little bit of blood really doesn't slow him down. He continue eating his cookies while we waited for a paramedic. He made friends with the clerk at the station. He scored a free Webkinz. We were discharged, after I signed paperwork stating that they offered to take us to the hospital and I declined, and headed back to our seats. I relayed the story to Chris and the girls. The girls' response...."Did you get a Webkinz for us?" Chris's reply..."When you fall, bust open your lip and produce 3 tablespoons of blood, then you too can get a Webkinz." And so, our hour was up and we left. I have no idea what inning it was or if we were winning. But, we can now say that our children have attended a baseball game. I have checked it off the list.

Casey, Chan and Quinn - 1st Baseball Game - 2010

Today I am Writing 3 Posts in My Head

Yes, I am that talented. But really, this is how it is when you blog. I have 3 different posts that I want to write and the rough drafts are currently being revised and edited in my head. I owe you a Mother's Day post and it will be coming later in the week. This just goes along with who I am - I can never seem to get cards in the mail on time, so at this point I pretty much just go ahead and buy Happy Belated Birthday cards, so why would I blog about Mother's Day on Mother's Day And now for a bunch of randomness...

At the gym today they had the food network on. Now don't get me wrong, I love some cooking shows as much as the next guy, but really? While I'm on the treadmill? Food Network? It seemed like a form of cruel and unusual punishment.

And speaking of food, the unthinkable happened tonight. Casey asked me on the way home from the gym/dance class what we were having for dinner. Sloppy Joe's and chips. (Healthy? Yes, I know, not so much. But I was in the mood for it this week. It reminds me of my childhood and I hadn't had one in at least 5 years. I know its been this long because Chris and I have never had one together.) Her response..."Yuck!" We got home, she took her stuff upstairs, Chan and I got everything put on the table and I called her down. She sat. She put the Sloppy Joe up to her mouth and began making faces and gagging. So I said, "Case, if you don't want to eat it, don't eat it. But don't sit there making faces and pretending to throw up. That's rude. You can put it down and go upstairs. You can just go hungry tonight. And if you decide you're ready to eat then it will be waiting for you. Your choice."

And so she chose not to eat.

Girls Night Out Part I

Last night? Yeah, um, I was just too tired. I'm tired tonight too, but I figured that missing blogging two nights in a row would be unforgivable (my mother-in-law worries when I don't blog).

Tonight, all I wanted for dinner was hibachi. Seriously. I couldn't get my mind off of it. Chris offered to buy as a way of getting out of a Mother's Day dinner. But he also didn't want to take Q out for dinner. So, tada!, instant girls night out. Me and the eight year olds. I was actually quite excited about this. The girls had never had hibachi before and I couldn't wait to see their faces when he made the big flames in front of us. 3 minutes after placing our order, Chan announced that she thought she was going to throw up. And then she started puffing out her cheeks and holding her stomach. I called Chris and he came to get her. Which is why this is Girls Night Out, Part I...Chan went home and now I owe her a dinner out. They are 8 and they already know about rainchecks.

Dinner? Casey LOVED it! She wants to eat the rice everyday. Steak, shrimp, chicken...yum, yum, yum!!! When everything was aflame, Casey jumped up and hid behind my chair. And then giggled nervously for 10 minutes.

Then a terrible thing happened when we were leaving the restaurant. Two boys with their father were sitting in one of the booths. I glanced at them and noticing that they were high school age (the age the majority of my former students are), I glanced again. One boy said, "Ms. Fondriest?" And I said, "Yes," with a warm smile on my face.

"Do you remember me?"

And I blanked. I had no idea who this kid was. None. It was HORRIBLE. This really, really, never happens to me. My heart sank. Ugh. What has happened to me??? And the poor, pitiful look on his face! It made me feel like a terrible person. Then he told me his name and I felt even worse. He is now finishing his sophomore year in high school, but when he was in 6th grade, he was one of my favorites! He just looked so grown up and he had changed so much, I didn't recognize him. I will be pouring over old year books tonight so that this doesn't happen to me again. :)

Roller Derby

Tonight we attended Lucy's birthday party. It was a roller skating birthday party. If you know me, you know how this caused my stress level to go through the roof. 8 minutes before we had to leave Chris threatened to make me stay home because I was contemplating bringing helmets and pads to the roller rink with us. Head injuries, people, head injuries. His exact words to me, "If this is going to be like a trip to the park with you then you just need to stay home." And I laughed - a high pitched nervous laugh - and then he said, "Seriously. If you are thinking about padding them up, you can just stop. I'll take them and they will be fine."

So, I took a deep breath and made the decision to throw caution to the wind and let my children skate without safety precautions....

We arrived. We rented skates. We laced up. And Chan took off on the carpet. She was thrilled! Excited! Pumped! This would not be at all difficult. Of course, she had not entered the rink at this point. She was slowly skating on the carpeted side area. I warned her that the wood floor was much different, but she wasn't listening. And then she crashed. At that point, the rest of the evening was doomed by frustration. Chan is one of those children who think that they should be a prodigy at everything that they attempt. She has a hard time with the concept of practice. And so falling was a crushing blow to her ego. The evening ended in tears. To be fair, I am going to pretend that she was crying about her bruised tail bone and not the fact that she felt that she was ready for the roller derby team, only to learn that she still had a long way to go. (Side note: Chris gave her an ice pack for her bottom when we got home...she tucked it into her underwear and waddled around the house. It was actually very cute.)

Casey, on the other hand, exudes confidence and knows how awesome she is and so the fact that she only fell 18 times and not 20, made for a very enjoyable evening.

I also had a very enjoyable evening. Until they played Rob Base, (I do love some Rob Base), and I looked around and realized that I was the only one jamming out on the rink. And when I say "only one" I mean that I was the only adult. Then I felt lame. But really, I'm okay with lame. And I didn't fall at all....so all of those afternoons roller skating in my aunt and uncle's basement proved to be worth it.

New summer activity: teaching Chan how to roller skate.

Quinn Can't Get Enough of the Books and Casey is a Lunatic

Quinn has some kind of speech issues. Or maybe I should say, non-talking issues. We're waiting until he actually turns 2 this summer before we look into it, but we do think there is something going on. And because of this, and because I am a librarian, I have had this nagging guilt over the fact that I didn't read to him as a baby. Big sigh. I began reading to the girls when they were babies and they could carry on conversations when they were his age. Yes, I am fully aware of the research, and I still didn't read to him when he was 2 weeks old, 4 months old, 6 months old, one year old. And the reason for this is very simple. He hated books. He couldn't sit still. He did not want to listen. It was a battle. So I figured the worst thing I could do was to force him. We kept the books around. We had family reading time in front of him. He had books to play with. And now the time has come. He can't get enough of them. He needs at least 4 books before bed time. He needs to sleep with the book of his choice. In the first 30 minutes that we were home this afternoon I read Brown Bear, Brown Bear at least 9 times. Then he went and chose another book. I believe we have a book lover on our hands.

Casey, as we all know, is a perfectionist. She takes what her teacher says very seriously. She needs to be the best that she can possibly be at everything that she does. If she feels that she is going to come up short on something that she knows she could do better at, it sends her into orbit. Like tonight, for example. She has a seed project due on Friday at school. She has to collect 5 seeds to turn in. AND (here's the kicker) if she comes up with a creative way to display her seeds, she will make a 4 (the highest grade). She HAS TO make the 4. Tonight is Wednesday and we don't have all of our seeds yet. We also don't have poster board or an empty egg carton for seed display purposes. And she is FREAKING out! Sobbing. Wailing. Hyperventilating. Its *awesome*. As her mother, I know exactly what to say to get her to calm down. (Because I am a picture of a perfect, nurturing mother.)

Me: Casey, you have got to chill out. You cannot stress about this. You will have your seeds by Friday. You'll figure out some display by then. You have got to calm down.
Casey: But (gulp, gulp) I (gulp, gulp) caaaaaaaaannnn'tttttt....
Me: Seriously. Get it together. Dry it up. If you keep doing this to yourself you are going to have a heart attack by the time you're sixteen.
Casey: But (gulp, gulp) I (gulp, gulp) caaaaaaaannnnnnnn'ttttttt. I don't know how to stooooooooooooppppppppp ss-ss-tresssiinnnngggg. (wailing, hiccups and moaning)
Me: Well, Case, if you can't figure out how to stop stressing about all of these little things, Mama's going to have to take you to the doctor.
Casey: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! MaaaaaaaaaaMaaaaaaaaa! (sobbing and screaming) Not (gulp, gulp) the (gulp, gulp) DOCTOR!!!!! (runs and hides under the covers, sobbing, screaming, etc)

Anyone have a Valium? Or some seeds and poster board?

I Hate Testing

Coming from an education background, I do understand the need for testing to collect data about our students to drive our instruction. In my brain, I understand this. But, do we really need to put this much stress and pressure on kids to get one snapshot of how well they can perform and prove what they know on one day?

When I picked Casey up from school to go to dance class yesterday afternoon she was already in a panic.

Casey: Mama, will you be mad at me if I fail this test? (Anxious. Tears welling in her eyes.)
Me: Mad? No, Honey, I won't be mad. I would be surprised though. Because you are a good student and you exceeded in all areas on the test last year. But I wouldn't be mad if you failed. And besides, if you fail, you get another chance to take it again. Its really not a big deal.
Casey: But if I fail, I'll be the oldest kid in 2nd grade next year.
Me: Case, they don't hold kids back just because they fail one test. They get held back for a lot of reasons. You have had a great year. You'll be fine.

The conversation continued at dinner. Chris and I spent a lot of time reassuring her that we wouldn't be mad, she wouldn't be held back and that she should just try to do her best.

The anxiousness continued this morning. As I was getting ready she stood outside the door, "Mama. Mama," in a low whisper, on the brink of tears.

Me: What, Casey?
Casey: I don't (gulp) have any (gulp) socks (gulp).
Me: Case, when I moved all of your clothes into the new dresser this weekend, you had plenty of socks. Its only Tuesday. Where are all of your socks?
**March down the hallway into her room, open drawer, pull out 6 pairs of socks*
Me: See. Lots of socks.
Casey: *whiny voice* But they're all shorty socks. They itch my feet and fall down. I can't wear those socks today.
Me: Chandler! Let Sister borrow a pair of your socks! See, problem solved.

A melt down. Over socks. Because of a test.

OMG How cute is this???

I mean, seriously, how cute is this blog make over??? I am in love with my blog designer and cannot even begin to tell you how much I highly recommend her! Lollieland, people, Lollieland!

Chris got one dresser put together tonight. Q was his helper. So, he has one more dresser to go, we have to get a full size box spring, paint the big room and then MOVE them! And its funny because they are so very excited about this move and having their own rooms, yet they are still sleeping in one twin size bed together. Yes, they do each have their own bed, but that doesn't matter.

I am kind of sad and stressed about the move. I know that it is time. They have their own personalities and likes and dislikes, but I have a hard time thinking about one without the other. It just seems like one more notch of separation, of growing up, for them to do. When they started PreK they had only been apart 3 times. The last of those three times was one of the worst experiences of my life. Chandler went through a sensory problem for the first 3 years of her life - sensitive to noise especially - and it had become so bad that I began taking her to therapy at a hospital in Athens. For months the 3 of us went - me, Casey and Chandler. Chan was terrified, Casey would do everything first and then she would coax Chan into doing it. Needless to say, the therapist was desperate to see Chan without Casey. So one afternoon my mom drove up and stayed with Casey at my house while I took Chan to therapy. I had prepped the girls all week for this event. It was all well and good until Chan and I actually pulled out of the driveway. Screaming. Sobbing. Shrieking. "I want my didter! I want my didter! Didterrrrrrrr!!!!!" Heartbreaking. And then she began throwing things at me while I was driving. She launched her shoe at the back of my head. We made it to therapy and I had to put her in a full body lock to keep her from running from the waiting room to the parking lot. And then she shut down and wouldn't do anything in therapy - no eye contact, no movement, no smiles, no talking....aside from whispering "didter" every once in a while. So we left. And I never forced them to be apart again.

The move is their choice. But I am having a hard time with the fact that they are old enough to make such a choice. It doesn't seem like that long ago that I listened to my child that was hysterical because she was spending 2 hours away from her sister.

And now, you should scroll down and enter the giveaway. It ends tomorrow night. :)

These People

Chris left the house this morning. This is actually news because Chris almost never leaves the house, by himself, with me home, with all 3 children. Shocking, I know. So, Chris left to get the oil changed in the van, stop by Lowe's and pick up some chairs from his mother's house. I was determined to get the bathrooms cleaned this morning. So that is what I focused on. And the three children ran around like hoodlums...screaming, whining, carrying on like...well, like children whose mother is not focusing on them. At one point, while I was wiping the mirror in our bathroom, Chan came in holding up the chain to the ceiling fan in the spare room. "Um, Mama. Um, Quinn wanted to touch the light on the ceiling in the spare room, so Casey and I tried lifting him up (*understand they had to stand on the bed and lift him up*) to reach the light, but instead he just pulled off this chain. I think it might be broken."

Ok. Deep breath. Exhale. Count to 10. Perhaps count to 10 backwards as well.

"Chan. The lights are hot. They can burn you. You or your sister or your brother should never touch the lights. And you also shouldn't pick up brother while standing on a bed."

"So what do you want me to do with this broken chain?"

Ok. Deep breath. Exhale. Count to 10. Perhaps count to 10 backwards as well.

Chris called to let me know that he was on his way home. Praise God. I greeted him in the garage when he pulled in, clapping my hands and jumping up and down. Yes, it was a sight.

"What's wrong with you?" was his return greeting.

"These people are going to be the death of me."

" 'These people?' You mean the ones that you gave birth to?"

"Yes, those people."

"So the morning went well, then?"

"Absolutely."

There's a New Gangsta in Town...And We Fail as Parents

...and apparently you only need to wear one shoe and pants are optional to be a member of his gang.

At lunch today, he decided it was best to just let it all hang out.

And today, Chris and I both received F's in the parenting department. All week the girls have been pumped up about going to one of their friend's birthday party. I told them it was today. I threatened them with it all day. You know, "If somebody doesn't get in the tub, we're not going to the party." "If you don't finish picking up your room, we're not going to the party." And so on. Back to the story...so we left the house with just enough time to swing by Target to pick up presents, wrapped them in the car in the parking lot and headed on our way. As I was wrapping the presents, I was contemplating the fact that on my check I wrote the date as 01/23/10. I was fairly certain that the party was supposed to be on Sat, 1/24/10. But that wouldn't make any sense. The 24th is tomorrow. But today is Saturday. So, I called Chris and had him pull up my email. Yep, the party is tomorrow. The girls were heartbroken. I told them to look on the bright side, at least I didn't think the party was today and have it really be yesterday. At least now we have a 2nd chance to get it right.

Chris gets an F because he started eating food off Chandler's plate before she was finished.

Faces

This is Casey giving me the stink eye. I am on the receiving end of the stink eye (from all 3 of my children, actually) pretty much all the time. I like it better than having eyes rolled at me. After 7 years of teaching middle school, I have had enough eyes rolled at me for a lifetime.


This is Chandler and her dancing face. It is the same as my dancing face. Which is the same as 95% of my Krueger family's dancing faces. It is seriously hilarious to watch my cousins and I all dance together...same (white kid) moves, same faces. Just like Chan's. I believe dancing is a genetic quality. And we allllllll got it goin on.

A Story About Elvis...and Waterboarding

Before I get to Elvis and waterboarding (I know you are anxious to hear about that), I just wanted to share with you some of my latest creations. How cute are these??? They will be up in my etsy shop by the weekend. Prices ranging from $6 to $8 a pair. :)

Really, its two separate stories...not one about waterboarding Elvis, so don't start getting upset with me.

Story #1....

Chris took Chandler to dance tonight which left me at home with Casey and Quinn. Casey wouldn't leave my side, so that meant that Q had to show off for her during bath time. His big trick tonight was filling the cup up with water and then dumping it on his chest, his face and eventually his head. He did this over, and over, and over. Casey was laughing and egging him on so much that he began to do it faster and faster and faster....until the point where I began to think that my 18 month old was waterboarding himself. So the cup had to be removed (much to his dismay) from the bath tub.

Story #2....

At dinner tonight Chris and I were discussing things that he needed to share with his students about the 1950's to help them build background knowledge for a novel that they are reading. I mentioned Elvis. The girls began furiously whispering among themselves. It seems that their background knowledge of Elvis consisted of the fact that on an episode of Hannah Montana, Jackson dressed up in a black wig and white jumpsuit and called himself Elvis. I was incredibly concerned that this was all that my children knew of Elvis. So, immediately following dinner, I pulled up Jailhouse Rock and Blue Suede Shoes on youtube to show them. They wanted to know more about the white jumpsuit. So then we watched a Suspicious Minds performance. They were not as impressed as I had hoped they would be. For good measure, I then found Beatles' performances on there and we watched those as well. It warmed my heart that they sang along with Blackbird and recognized it as something that I often sing to them. We also listened to Good Day Sunshine and reminisced about how I walked down the aisle to this when I married Dad. (And its true...I did....instead of the usual bridal march, I thought Good Day Sunshine was a better pick. My bridesmaids came in to Across the Universe, our parents walked in to When I'm 64. True story.)

They Have Arrived

They have arrived home and it is hard for me to believe that less than 24 hours ago I said, "I miss my children." We picked them up from the drop point, went grocery shopping, came home, ate lunch, tried to get Q to take a nap (to no avail) and then spent the rest of the afternoon begging for mercy.

I had a friend of mine say to me recently, "You really are in the trenches of parenting." And its true. I have the oldest children out of my old circle of friends. I am in the trenches. And this weekend was like Christmas - when the battle takes a pause and the soldiers gather around and celebrate instead of worry for their lives. (You know, this is how it worked at some point...like in WWI, I think.) So, this weekend there was a pause in the battle, but now it is back on, and I am dealing with this things like this....

"No, Quinn! No! That could kill you!"

The girls were supposed to be coloring with him. Instead, he wanted to play with the stapler. I'm not really sure if it could have killed him, but its better not to try and find out.

It is really amazing though how peaceful and quiet our house was 12 hours ago. My sanity was restored, only to be depleted within 2 hours of them being home.

It's all fun and games...

...until someone says "Damn It." And that someone is under the age of 8.

It all began when Chris had Quinn sing the ABC's for me. It went like this....

lalalalalaaaaaaaaaaaa -ugh - ugh - mehmehmehmeh - ugh

Why the "ugh's"? Because he was leaving a present for me in his pants. I called "not it" and Chris said that wasn't fair, so we settled it in a much fairer way - rock, paper, scissors. One, two, three, shoot and I lost. So then the girls started playing it too. One, two, three, shoot and Casey lost. Which naturally made her exclaim, "Damn It!".

And so there went our fun, laid back, evening. Back to parenting. Now, I have no idea where she would have heard this. It might have been me. It might not have been me. No bets please.

She is not earning daddy dollars for the rest of the week. My mother thought we were too hard on her and made this comment...

Awww, Honey, she doesn't know what that means. She is only 7. Don't be so hard on her.

But, she a. used it in proper context b. said "sorry" followed by "I meant to say darn it" c. followed by "I didn't know that was a bad word"

And if that was the case why was there a b. and a c.???? Her voice also rose 8 octaves while defending herself and her microexpressions where through the roof (according to my Lie To Me training). So, I think we were fair. We also had a very serious discussion about "grown up words" and that they may use those words when they can....

drive
cook for themselves
work a 40 hour work week
pay their own bills
and qualify for a mortgage

I also went on to inform her that her teacher would know about it so that if she were to use another "grown up word" on the playground or in the lunchroom that she would know that it was not the 1st time and that her teacher should call Dad right away. That got her. Score.

Carousel Ride

It was a carousel ridin' kind of day. We took the kids up to Mall of Georgia just so that we would not all be stuck in the house together all day and took Q for his first spin on the carousel. He loved it for the first 38 seconds. Then he didn't want the strap around him and he really wanted to switch horses. He didn't understand that it doesn't work that way. The girls have outgrown the horses and have moved on to the spinning cup.

Following the carousel ride, we returned home. Q had spaghetti for lunch. It is something that he will never have for lunch again. He was covered in orange. Bath time immediately followed lunch which was then followed by nap time. Only Q decided that a nap was not on his schedule for today. He stayed up there "talking" for a good twenty minutes before the screaming began. Chris went up to check on him. Then there was this...

"Eeeewwww, yuck! Um, Ang? I think I'm gonna need your help."

So, I raced up there stairs to find Chris standing in front of the crib and Q standing in the crib, grinning from ear to ear. Next to Q in the crib was a giant turd. He had pulled his diaper off and then rubbed the turd on his sheets. Awesome. My only thought was, at least sheets are easier to wash than walls...which is where the girls rubbed a turd one day during their nap time. So, we got him all cleaned up, sheets in the wash, paci back in his mouth and now he is taking a nap. Hopefully with his diaper on this time.

My mother has requested that I use larger pendants and make some necklaces a little longer... for people that have a "swimmer's neck" - like hers - instead of a "chicken neck" - like mine. (Chris said my neck was more like a "swan's neck." That's very sweet of him, now isn't it?) So I worked on this large pendant, longer necklace, last night.