Flappin's Not My Thing

Today was Katie's middle school registration. I hate this day. Not just today, but the last couple of years. Sixth grade was good - got some questions answered, and everyone seemed pretty helpful. 7th grade was exhausting, yet still tolerable. Today I wanted to scream. Who's bright idea was it to hold a registration for all grades, mixed together, in a gym with no air conditioning, all doors closed and NINETY DEGREES OUTSIDE??? There must be a better way. I felt like I was lined in a cattle herd awaiting a hot iron brand to be stamped to my ass. Most of our waiting was done behind the 6th graders and their parents who had every question imaginable for every person that they saw. Many of these parents asked the same questions over and over again, and every person answered the same, lengthy answer each time. My boiling point was reaching dangerous levels in this place today. Unfortunately there seemed to be a "no cutting" trend going on, so I would have been "that jerk" had I gone around. And, by the end of this parade we were all dripping sweat, and the children (not just mine) were screaming in complete misery.

With all that time I got to spend in line today, I had plenty of time to look around at all the people standing around me. I discovered that, although I'm a chubby little chicken, I was probably the best looking chubby chicken in that joint! That sounds so conceited, but let me clarify: I was probably the most appropriately dressed plus size woman in that gym. I try to make sure that, as a plus size person, I am not dressing like my 13 year old daughter. It's pretty easy not to, but still. There are some simple rules all of us big girls should follow daily: No super short shorts, no bra's hanging out, no skimpy tank tops in public without arm flap covers - That kind of thing. Is it really that hard for big girls to dress decently? I've seen this for years, and have had issues with it for a while, so I've decided to make a list for any larger than average chick who is confused with what's appropriate, and what's not. I've said it before, but I have to share it again. Lemme break it down:

• Tank tops are nice - But, nobody wants to see your gut or boobs hanging out like they're trying to escape from a straight jacket. Size matters, and with tanks and t shirts, sometimes bigger IS better :) Extra larger girls need to also cover up the wings they've got on the under side of their arms . No need to be flappin' like a bird if you ain't one.
• Buy a size up - It's just a number, and you'll look a thousand times better. Your husband will think so too.
• Spandex shorts are for working out. They aren't for dressing up in a tank top that's too small with a flashy pair of flip flops. (I saw this today, actually, and I came to the conclusion that the woman was in such a hurry that she just forgot to put her clothes on)
• Muffin tops are not cool. Not to say that I haven't had my share of them, but I wonder if many of the women whom I have seen display these aren't doing it because they think that's how they're supposed to look. IT'S NOT....It's not pretty, it's not cute and you're way overemphasizing something that shouldn't be emphasized at all. Keep em' in the bakery, ladies!
• Jeans are not meant to be squeezed in to - At least, not if you're over 30. You honest to God look like you're suffocating. Your butt does not become smaller with a smaller size. Your waist is also, still the same size. And if you think that you walk like a model in those smaller pants you're quite mistaken. You look more like a duck. Quack. Quack.
• This is a personal preference, but thongs (undies) should not be seen atop the waistband of your pants or shorts, no matter your size. Plus size girls should avoid them at all costs. Why would you want to draw attention to your already large back end with the display of some lacy or silky thongs sticking out the top of your pants? And those who do attempt this are also usually the girls who try to saran wrap their jeans to themselves. It's a no-win situation and if ever there was a picture of "trashy", well, that just might fit the bill. The thong is wrong when baby's got back!!
• And finally, though sometimes it's inevitable for them to be seen under tanks and tops, bra straps are not supposed to be worn with the intent of purposely displaying them in such a manner. Again, why do plus size women and girls feel the need to bring attention to areas that are naturally getting more attention than they need? They do not in any way make you appealing, and if someone is looking at you, it's not out of envy - It's out of pity, for the fact that you must put yourself on display in such a manner that is degrading, not only to yourself, but to the rest of the plus size population who at least TRY to look decent. Men will and do actually find you appealing with your clothes on, and with your bra straps covered. Give it a try sometime, cover up! It's a rush for those who've never done it before!

Ironically enough I blog this right now dressed in a tank top and shorts. However, I am comfortable in my own home, recuperating from the trip to registration hell and back. And, my over-shirt is hanging on the hall tree by the front door, just in case I must venture in public again - Cause' if I went out without it, people would think I'm trying to fly! And, flappin's not my thing.

At Least My Kids Aren't Jerks

So, I was at dinner with my bunco friends last night and it was brought to my attention that my blogging has fallen behind. Going to blame my children for this one - And, not necessarily in a bad way. These kids of mine have personalities that make one wonder if they were conceived in a circus tent. Obviously not, but they're crazy and we've had us some adventures this Summer.

This morning, the twins woke me up to a heated conversation they were sharing. I got up, changed their pants, and we went to the living room where they continued that crazy conversation for a good half hour. Some things we understood, some things were mangled. But, you could tell that they were saying something! They were talking SO much that it makes me wonder just how much sugar their father fed them before putting them to bed. Or how much they had to drink - I woke at 1am to change a wet bed, and woke to them being soaked again at 6am! That doesn't happen when I put them down. Hmmm......

The past couple of months have been exhilarating with these munchkins. They're learning new words (all three of them), and have all decided that being a drama queen is in their best interest. Well, I've got news for them - The only thing being as dramatic as they are will do is get them a nice paragraph written about them on my blog.

Nearly every word I say is repeated by my son for curiosity sake. He'll say "Damn it." Then ask, Can I say damn it, mom?" We then go into a good hour long talk about what's okay to say and what's not. He has said some words to me, or in front of me, that would in no way possible come out of my mouth. I then begin to wonder who in the hell decided to share that stuff with my son!! There are never any confessions.

Mackenzie is such an actress. And, for the record, I know that they've been studying their big sister since they were born in order to try to master the art of dramatic manipulation. It works sometimes. So, back to Mac - This child will act out and recite movies like she's trying out for a part. It's actually quite amazing to watch her in action - She will dance around, hum to the music, sing along and join in like she's a part of the show. Now, as wonderful as her little drama stuff is, she's definitely not prim and proper. The girls have a dress up box that contains some of Katie's old ballet tutu's and performance attire - Rayla can dress herself up in a flash. But, Mackenzie - Not so much. The last time she tried to put on the tutu dress she wound up with her head through the leg hole and the arm straps under her feet wallowing on the floor because she couldn't move. She then became so angry at herself that she just broke down - I tried to help, but the stinker wanted to do it herself. She hasn't touched the dress up clothes since. She's happiest just playing in dirt.

Little Rayla is a non-listener. She doesn't like to listen to what she's told. In fact, she ALWAYS does the opposite. I tried to play opposite day with her, but then she did what I said. And, when I tried to outsmart her by saying "yes" on opposite day, she decided we weren't playing that anymore, and did it anyways. She runs away and laughs like a little monster who's being ornery for the complete and utter joy of it. On a lighter note, the kid can dress herself up to look like "Raypunzel" and be the scene stealer of any moment. We call her "Raypunzel" because of her hair - It's down to her butt! What 2 year old has hair that long? Well, mine does, I guess. And she milks every bit of that nickname - Stinkin' little princess!!

Katie spent 2 months in California and returned last week. She flew home alone this time, and though she was scared shitless, she did just fine. I can't express just how happy I am to have her home. It's funny - When she's here, we go on living every day, doing what we need to do and I find that I often fight with her. And, by the time summer comes each year, we're both ready for a break. In fact, that's most often the time when she discusses not living in our house anymore. But, by the end of the Summer, she's missed us and ready to come home and be a happy family again. As am I - Cause', there's no denying that her help to me is of a magnitude that a thankful expression on a blog can't justify. She's wonderful - and I'm SO glad she's home.

I do not get out as much as I did even three months ago. Something has changed in my children - Something evil. They LOVE to get in the car and go somewhere, as long as that somewhere is not Safeway, Rosauers or Walmart. I might actually just blame the stores. And, I think that there's a "psycho" mist they spray on us as we walk in the door for the sole purpose of making us leave sooner than planned. I mean, it's absolutely amazing how my children could be fine at the car, and even through the parking lot. But, the moment we set foot in the store they become creatures unlike anything I've every seen. They scream, flail, kick, grab things off the shelf and throw them, unbuckle themselves and climb out of the carts like their freestylin' at the playground. I've seen this many times over at the store with other people and their ONE child. But, two or three children doing this at the same time?? Oh my God..... And I say that directly to the man..... But, it's pretty surprising I haven't been banned from one or more shopping establishments. And, in every instance, we come out without something on our list.

I rely quite a bit on my child leashes for the girls when I go anywhere else. I look like a dog walker when I'm out and about with them, but, if the shoe fits......! I just don't have enough hands to do it without them! Some people smile at me, some people commend me for my "smarts" in child control, and some people sneer at me. The people who smile are usually older, and silently thanking me for not being that asshole parent who lets their children take over and run amock screaming and terrorizing anything that comes in their path. The people who commend me are usually parents in similar situations who often do the same, or are admiring me for giving them the idea to use themselves. And the sneers - Well, those often come from the asshole parents who let their children run amock, screaming and terrorizing anything that comes in their path BECAUSE they think that they're giving their children the freedom to express themselves, be creative and have FUN! It's no fun watching children act like jerks, especially when their parents are letting them do it. Heck, if my kids are being butts, we leave - It's as simple as that. I'm not going to allow them to disrespect me or anyone else because they need to be creative. My kids can be creative by repeating what I say after we've returned to the car and I've sworn to myself out of pure frustration and angst.......

And, into the school year, I'm going to have many moments of craziness - I'm still babysitting other children! How stupid can one get, right? Haha. What I'm looking forward to the most is the dentist appointment that the children have next week in which all three are going to be in a chair, with a little boy I babysit at my side. I was supposed to watch my 1 year old niece that day, too.....But that might be a little much.

I don't ask for torture. It seems to happen naturally for me. I just go with the flow. And, sometimes I get caught up in the current......But, at least I haven't drowned.

Who's your Daddy?

In the latter part of my childhood, I had the privilege of being raised by my grandparents. My grandma worked to keep health insurance, but my grandpa had long retired from his work as a scientist for the US Bureau of Mines. This left me with a lot of time to spend with my grandpa, mostly doing things that grandpa's do: Hunting, fishing, boating, hitting the auctions, looking at RV's, travelling in the RV he bought, walking, and, best of all, just taking a drive to look at the scenery. Yeah, you might think, "Oh, man, what a boring life!", right? Well, no, it wasn't. There was a connection that I had with my grandpa that was exactly what a father and daughter should have had.

I called him Granddad, and, when he passed away, I was the first to speak at his funeral. I remember saying to the crowd "He was the grandest dad there ever was." Man, was that the truth. Also, in the eulogy, I made sure to include that every time he took me to the dentist he'd fall asleep in the waiting room and snore SO loud. I was mortified! But, after a few visits over the years, the staff in the office became quite accustomed to his grunts and snorts, as did I. It became an endearing thing, that we just laughed about after the fact.

When I was fifteen, my grandpa had gone off somewhere one Saturday - I didn't know where, I didn't care, I didn't ask. But, a few hours later he returned driving the ugliest orange car I'd ever seen in my life. At first, it didn't dawn on me - And then he said, "Here's your new car!" I'm pretty sure I must have turned pale at that point. But, I didn't let that overrule me. It was a car! It was my second set of training wheels! The first, of course, being the blue banana seat bike he bought me when we lived in Albany. So, there it was. That damn orange car. So I practiced, nearly every day - Parking in the driveway, driving on the highway to Mt. Bachelor with my grandpa, who, by the way smoked NON-STOP whenever he was in the car with me, and driving around the neighborhood in whatever weather came that day. With good intentions, he decided that it needed a "paint" job. Oh, Lord. He spray painted black racing stripes on the bottom part of both sides of that car. I thought it couldn't get any worse. I got in quite a bit of practice when, to my dismay, my grandpa insisted that we take THAT car, attached to our 30 foot motor home, on a trip across the country. Yeah, I practiced. But, for the most part, I stayed hidden in the back. Can you imagine both my grandparents, my great grandma, me, and sometimes a dog, crammed into a 2 door Datsun?!?! I need not say more.

Fall came, school started and I went in for my driver's test. I passed! And, the next evening, was my bible study group that I attended every week. On the way home, I got pulled over! Doing 40, in a 25 and no insurance card in the car......I was so embarrassed. But, for some odd reason, the cop let me off. Just a warning. Maybe it was because I was so cute back then! But, since my memory has failed me for moments such as that, I can't even recall whether the cop was young or old. So, I can't really use that excuse. My grandpa made me actually pay for the car - all $500 of it. I didn't think it was fair, at first, because I never wanted that kind of car to begin with. But there was no way they were letting me learn how to drive in their new Lincoln! I paid for my insurance too - Probably a good thing in the eyes of my grandpa. And, to top it off, it was named the "Tangerine" by a group of loving friends: Thanks Sana, Coco & Erin!

I drove that car all Fall and all Winter, but some days, when I wasn't working, and didn't have anywhere I needed to be, I rode the bus. On one of those days I didn't drive, and just before Spring break 1996, my grandpa picked me up from school. He normally didn't do that, but, he said there was something he wanted to show me. We ended up driving to Prineville and landed on the Miller Ford Dealership on the East side of town. When I asked what we were doing there, he said he was just looking. However, he pointed me to a silver Mercury something, the Mercury version of a Ford Tempo. He asked me what I thought of it - I told him it was cool, lots of room, no dings or dents - It was a good one. But when I asked him why he wanted my opinion, he then told me that he was thinking of buying it. "For?" I asked. "Well, you, if you like it." My heart was racing, my face must have beamed and I'm sure I let out a girly giggle too. Of course, I LOVED it! Then, I wondered how I was going to pay for that. Surely, it was more than the Datsun. It was then, that I found out that he'd already bought the car. "It's your graduation present, a little early". He saw that I was responsible enough to pay for the other car, keep a job, still do well in school, and he wanted to reward me. A tear or two may have fallen on the drive home because I was so happy. I do remember that when I got home my face hurt from smiling.

My grandfather has left such a great impression on me. He taught me all the things a father should have. He talked about the birds and the bees. He talked about boys. He talked about tying flies. He talked about finances - Oh, man were there lots of finances talk. Endearingly named The King of Penny Pincher's, his motto was "if it didn't need to be bought, then it wasn't going to be". A splurge every now and again was fine, but as long as it was paid for in cash, then all was good. That man paid for everything in cash. His cars, his houses, his boats, the motor home - EVERYTHING. Now, though he taught me some great budgeting tools while growing up, I can't say that I haven't had a credit card. Or two. Or three, four or five. But, the basics of financing he taught me well.

Bob was his name - Not Bobby, or Robert. Just Bob. His name was as simple as the life he led. My grandpa was the best father I could have ever wished for, and I'm so glad I had him for the time I did. In third grade I remember all the students in the class were asked to write something about their "hero". Having a rough early childhood, I really didn't understand what the teacher was asking, so I answered something along the lines of "Jake the Snake", WWF extraordinaire. I laugh now, as that seems about the silliest thing I could have ever written. But, at the time, I didn't know what a real hero was. However, if only I had thought about it hard enough, I would have realized that he was right there the whole time and my answer would have been a little different. So, 25 years later, I'm declaring that my grandpa is my hero; He always was, and always will be.

After the cancer took Granddad in 1999, I wondered how I'd go on to live my life. I wondered if I'd find someone that I would be confident enough, and proud enough of to have wanted to introduce to my grandpa. Of course, there wouldn't actually be a formal introduction, just stories. But, that feeling of contentment was pretty important. In 2001, I met Corey. Bachelor of all bachelors, and THE man of all men. Honestly, I wasn't sure if he'd ever settle down. But, there was something about him. It may have his sarcasm. It could have been his free spirited lifestyle. Maybe it was the way he loved me. Any way you look at it, I was in love. Tomorrow, June 9, 2011, is the ten year mark from our first date. Since that day, he's become a wonderful husband, a remarkable father, and a family man that many envy.

There's something to be said for a man who loves his children as Corey does. There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't play with the kids. One day it might be the Corey Monster, running through the house, growling and flailing about for the children's enjoyment. Another night, he may bring out the super power fan and stick balloons in front of it to sail across the room at fun speeds. You can even see a water fight, a game of catch, a round of songs or a game on the wii before bed. But, the best thing in the world, is to see that every night before bed, each child will kiss him and hug him while wishing him a good night in a sing song voice. He loves them so much, and they love him right back. There is no question that Father's day is an important day in this household. We've got some pretty awesome dads in our neck of the woods!

Next Sunday, June 19th, is Father's Day. On that day, I will be remembering the man who became my father because he wanted to, and helped me to become the woman I am today. My children will be honoring their father, the man who answers to "Dad," "Daddy," and even "Papa" sometimes. And, I will be giving wonderful thanks to Flip, the best Father in Law that I could have ever asked for. Not only is he wonderful to me and my family, he gave me the best gift that I could have even given to my children: Their father.

A Little Crazy Never Hurts

Could it be that the world is really going to end? Could it be, that in fact, all good Christians will just disappear from this earth, leaving the rest of the world to fend for themselves in misery for 5 months until Armageddon? There are lots of believers of this. I believe they're full of crap. I didn't freak out with y2k, and I'm not freaking out over this. It's a waste of energy and I've got a boatload of children who don't need to be subjected to such an insane way of living. They're crazy enough!

Speaking of crazy, I seem to have 2 more children in this house that I just can't seem to get close enough to to say "Good Morning" to. Their names, according to my children, are I Don't Know and Not Me. These residents, that are blamed for many a bad action, are spoken of daily. When I ask Katie who the dingbat was who put 2 empty boxes of cereal back in the cupboard she immediately blames I don't know. Now, I've looked for this person - I've tried to figure out whether this is a boy, or a girl. But, somehow, even Katie gets mad when I question this person's whereabouts so that I may teach him or her a lesson in proper etiquette. Cooper often says Not Me is to blame when one of the twins has obviously been hit by an inanimate object. And, when I ask who REALLY did it, he still blames Not Me. Go figure.

A new play structure was recently added to our ever changing back yard, compliments of Grandpa Flip and Grandma Maija. It has swings, a large wavy slide, a two story play house, monkey bars and a double riding thing that the kids absolutely adore. We've been outside playing on that thing every sunny day we've had for hours at a time. On the days that I've got Asa, the little boy I babysit (I know, crazy, huh?), the boys will play outside while I'm cleaning the kitchen. It's so nice to actually get some work done, and still be able to watch them from my kitchen window. :) My kids are rough, there's no question about that, but, this poor little boy I watch manages to be the only one to get slivers in his hands EVERY single day! I still don't know how, or what's he's doing to get such monstrous wood additives under the skin, but he does! Lucky for me, and him, he's pretty patient with me while I dig them out. It could be that he's just so used to it now that he doesn't flinch - But it must hurt!! Maybe some Michael Jackson gloves for playtime should be worn. Then he'd really be playing it safely in style!

So, what's the trick to getting your teenager to act normal? I've been trying to find a way to bring out the "normal" in my little teenager and I am almost ready to give in. She's beautiful, she's smart, she's wonderful. But, she's hiding that somewhere underneath the huffing, the puffing, the yelling, the the stomping, the bawling, the screaming and the deliberate disobedience. Yeah, I know, disobedience isn't really the word to use. MY CHILD WON'T DO WHAT SHE'S TOLD!!! Simple rules to make her day, and our day, go smoothly end up being thrown out the door by 7am as the nice hour and a half she once had to get showered, dressed and ready to go has suddenly turned into a chaotic, loud, crashing and banging mad dash just to make it to the bus on time. How is it, that she can be up, fed and showered by 6:20am? But, at 7:10 her bag's not packed, she is still battling herself about what to wear, her hair isn't right and she's screaming at us that she's late because we stopped her in her tracks in an attempt to curb her sudden enthusiasm for what looks like an improv for a psychotic horse! Even after Corey CALMLY tells her that, "It's okay! I'll just take you to school and give you a few more minutes" she begins the over dramatic bawl fest about how she HAS to ride the bus. Why, you ask? She tells us it's because being on the bus calms her down. BS. She wants to talk to her friends, and she certainly doesn't want to be seen with either one of her parents. In her defense, I kind of understand that. Recently one morning that Corey ended up taking her to school, Katie got out of the car and he rolled the window down and did something along the lines of blasting music, headbanging and shouting out well wishes to her school day. As a girl who's been there, I can say that must have been soooooo embarrassing. As her mother, married to the man who's humor is part of what I love so much, I laugh hysterically at the thought of her face, and her friends, who witnessed this act of tease-love. Oh, boy.

It's a crazy world. We're some crazy folks. But, I suppose a little crazy never hurts.

A MOMentous Occasion

“There is no way to be a perfect mother, and a million ways to be a good one” - Jill Churchill

Every year we celebrate our mothers. We shower them with gifts, sift through every "mom" card in the stationary section at Walmart to find the perfect card, schedule dinners, brunches and, of course, load them up with flowers. As a mother, I look forward to it! Not because of the gifts. Not because of the delicious brunch food that will most likely be prepared. But, for the acknowledgement from my children that they're happy that I get to be their mom - Because I sure am! Being a mother has different meanings for different people. No child sees their mother the same way each year. See below:

Newborn: Need my mommy all the time. Happy first Mommy's day!

Baby: Want my mommy. Mom might finally get to sleep in today. I hope there's enough milk stored for dad to give me while she's out.

Toddler: Want mommy sometimes. Daddy's cool, too.

Oooh...pretty flowers. Who are those for?

Preschooler: Mommy is so nice. My teacher is helping me to make something to give her, cause I really love her! See? My card says so!

Kid: I've been working so hard on this project for mom. I hope she likes it!

Teenager: UGH!! I TOTALLY forgot mother's day! Sorry mom.

... what do you want? Maybe I can get dad to get it for you..It might be late, but, better late than never. Right, mom? MOM?!!

Young adult: I thought I'd give you a call and wish you a happy mothers day - Lots of testing going on - I'll be home in a few weeks! At least I can't wreck your car this year! (Corey)

Adult: Happy Mother's day, mom! We're sending you on a cruise to celebrate you, and your retirement!

Elderly child: I'd wish my mother a happy mothers day, but I can't remember who she is, or where I left her!! Well, then again, everyone always told me that I'd become my mother. Maybe I really am her! Then, Happy Mothers day to me!

My nephews will be experiencing their first mother's day without their mom. They don't wear their emotions on their sleeves, and I'm sure they'll be doing what they normally do, just making each day count, doing the best they can to get through. I can't begin to imagine the feelings that they will have this weekend, but one thing's for sure: Those boys will be surrounded by so much love. My sister loved getting those made at school projects that her boys would make for her each year. I still remember seeing her smile ear to ear with even just a small token of appreciation that she was their mother. She loved them so much. And they loved her right back. Hopefully all the things that she couldn't do for them while still here, she can do from heaven. And, for the things she can't, there's a tribe of mothers just waiting to help raise those boys into wonderful young men.

My son gets to share his birthday weekend with Mom's day- Though he hasn't shared any ill feelings about that as of yet, I anticipate a request to have "separate" weekends in the future - One for him, one for me. And, I'm sure I'll accommodate. He brought me home flowers, cards and pictures today from preschool - To feel that "school" love again is refreshing as it's been years since Katie got to make something at school to bring home for mother's or father's day. Just to have all my kids together with me on Sunday will be a blessing. So would a foot rub, a massage, a bubble bath........

My mother recently shared something with me, and I debated sharing it. Not only does it kill what I thought was the true meaning and sentimentality behind my name, it's just plain hilarious.....

I was having a conversation with my mother about my sister, and revealed to her that one of my sister's best childhood friends had just had her first baby, and named her Sydney. My mom piped up "Oh, really? That's what you were supposed to be named." Naturally I questioned the "supposed to be" part of that sentence. She explained to me that HER mother, Cara had wanted to name her Sydney but my grandpa wouldn't allow it. He absolutely hated that name for some reason. So, they named her Debra. When I came along, my mom had promised my grandma that she would give me the name Sydney, since that was the only way my grandma would ever get to enjoy that name, other than a cat, or a dog. But, like my grandpa, my mother hated that name. And when the time came to enter a name on my birth certificate, my mother stood her ground - and instead, named me Cara so that grandma wouldn't be mad that I wasn't named Sydney, but couldn't be mad because I was named after her. For years, I was sure that I was named after my grandma Cara because it's a beautiful name. And it is....but I was Cara because I had to be, and my poor mother felt she had no other choice! I laugh hysterically as I type this, because I know my mother is going to read this and probably give me hell for it for a while to come. And, for the record, I love the name Sydney!

I've always thought that my name is beautiful - And, now, it's funny, too!

So remember your mommy this Sunday. Give her something she'll never forget. Even if it's the rent you finally owe her.......

Happy Mother's Day!!

A Royal Victory

“He who is prudent and lies in wait for an enemy who is not,

will be victorious.” - Author Unknown

The past 5 days have been quite monumental for millions of people, all over the world. Since Hurricane Katrina, just a few natural disasters have occurred, and, in those, only a handful of people had died. This week we mourn hundreds who were lost in the Tornado that hit Alabama, Tennessee, Georgia and Mississippi. This Tornado was the worst recorded, and the largest in scale since 1966. The aftermath of this is devastating. Millions of lives are changed. I pray for them all.

The very next day the world momentarily broke their shock and outrage of the tornado, to celebrate, swoon, cheer and envy the wedding of the century - Prince William's marriage to Kate Middleton. Now, if any of you women are like me, you all wished, even in a dream, that Prince William would be down to earth enough to fall in love with you. He'd come to the US to "sow his oats", he'd fall for your humble American ways, and then you'd be a princess someday!! Maybe I've watched Coming to America one too many times. Lucky for me, I found my prince a decade ago and married him a few years later. But, on this day, the world gathered and watched on as Prince William took the hand of a "commoner" as has been said over and over again. It's almost as if those royals want us "commoners" to know that some of us are actually worthy of royalty, despite our past! Well, that was a mission well accomplished. And, I believe it all. I believe the love, the rise to royalty, the story and the humbleness. As many horrible things that are happening in this world, it is so nice to sit back and revel in a good story for a change. I sure hope this lasts - Cause', if it doesn't, Prince William is gonna have to fend off a lot of women who would die to be his future queen.

And, the biggest news of all - Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon finally had their babies!!! Oh, well, I suppose that isn't the BIGGEST news, but she finally popped on Sunday.

The biggest news would have to be that Osama Bin Laden was killed in a US attack on his private quarters on Sunday. I watched the news in awe, not sure whether to cheer, or just stay frozen with my mouth wide open until Corey knocked me back to reality. It's surreal - After nearly a decade of searching for the man responsible for the 911 attacks, he's finally caught. And dead. I watched the news, read articles and saw pictures of people celebrating nationally. And then it dawned on me: Osama Bin Laden was the top - But, what about his followers? Without Bin Laden to regulate and coordinate attacks, I fear that our country will now have to live in fear of retaliation attacks by al qaeda. I'm sure all of us level headed people have thought about this before, but, now it's real. Now, Bin Laden is gone and who's to say that there wasn't a "just in case" plan put in to place years ago? I know, I know...Don't poo poo a good thing. I am a very realistic person. I try to think of all aspects, and at least, for your own sake, consider the possibility. I do.

Now that I've babbled on about how much news I've watched over the past few days, I can tell you that, before I watched the news about Bin Laden's capture, I was out gardening for several hours on the most beautiful Sunday I'd seen in months. Leave to me to go out on the first warm, sunny day of the year, in a tank top, with no sun block, for 4 straight hours. Can you say lah lah lah lahbstah? Seriously, how can one be so stupid? I spend months inside, while my skin faded to an ill stricken looking white and then, one fine day, I just decide to strip down and beg to be barbecued! I did this last year, and I suffered immensely for days. I anticipate the same this week. And, if my boobs weren't so big, I would have opted to go bra-less for at least today. That just can't happen anymore.

All of my girls are quite dramatic in one way or another. Katie likes to triply express her anger in a Hannah Montana kind of way. You know, the act of yelling in anger that is so overboard and so obviously an attempt to "act" like she's really angry at us. Instead she just looks ridiculous. To her dismay, Corey and I both laugh when she does this. Not only does she sound ridiculous, she looks ridiculous. For Pete's sake - She's not auditioning for the role of one of the wicked stepsisters. Maybe one day she'll get it.

Rayla likes to say "no." Even when she really wants something, there seems to be something fascinating to her about the word "no." It's used more often, by her, than any other word she knows. "Rayla, do you want me to hold you?" "No." "Rayla, do you want to play with Mackenzie?" "No." Rayla, would you like some juice?" "No" "Rayla, do you want mommy to leave?" " Uh huh." It never fails, the one thing I try to get her to say no to, she changes and says yes. Such a typical girl!!

Mackenzie is my little princess. Really, if you ask her where the princess is, she'll point to herself. She calls herself princess. She dances and prances like one. When she dresses up in a pretty top or a pretty dress she calls it her princess dress. And, she's very protective of her princess dress. Last night after dinner the girls got a popsicle - Kenzie's was red. She was wearing a white eyelet "pretty princess dress" and dropped some of her popsicle on it. She hung her head, and teared up with such sadness that it would break any mother's heart. She slowly lifted her head, and in her sweetest, most loving voice says "Mommy, I messed my princess dress. I so sorry. My pretty dress. My poooooooor princess dress." I reassured her that it was really okay, and that mommy has special magic powers to take out the messes on her dress. It's been soaking for a day, and will be washed this afternoon. I'm a little excited to FINALLY get to share with someone how cool it is that red dye CAN come out of white!!

So, I drifted off into subject oblivion for a while - There was a point, I promise. Of all the drama that fills the world, good and bad, there isn't a soap opera more entertaining, more comedic than my own little life. The drama that happens in my home is honestly as much drama as I ever need. This past weekend Osama died, the Carey-Cannon twins were born, hundreds were lost in a tornado, and the prince married his true love - That's a busy weekend for news stations. My kids were able to play outside, I had a date with my son and husband, I gardened my heart out and laughed until I cried with my whole family. That's not just a busy weekend for me; That's my life. This sweet life that I wouldn't trade for even a tiara or the title of Duchess. Besides, I'm already the queen of my castle......:) Who would want to trade that?

Eclectic Little Boogers

You know, life in this household is so unpredictable. And, just so you followers are aware, RARELY do I finish writing a blog on the same day I start.... Case in point:

I began this blog a few days ago with an ever so exaggerated litany of cheering on via caps lock the fact that all my children were healthy again. They had been sick since February 4, and it was about time they were better. Smiles were abound, laughing was rampant, and, for once in a long time, nobody was screaming because something hurt. My cheering on was an obvious jinx to myself, and my poor children because, yep, you guessed....they're all sick again!!!!

You must be thinking that it is something in this house. I thought that, too. But I clean, I sanitize, I disinfect, I run the humidifier (no mold, I checked), and still my little munchkins won't get well! Everyone in this household suffers from the dreaded allergies, too. We really could have done without that curse. Last week...Maybe even the week before, I honestly can't remember, I took Cooper back to the doctor because he was feverish again, coughing, sore throat and his throat was swollen and nasty looking. The doc said it may, or may not be, mononucleosis. Yeah - Kissing disease. Though heinously ridiculous to think that a child so young could get it, nothing seems to surprise me anymore. Besides, Cooper likes to kiss girls..... Wonder if his daddy was like that in preschool??

And, now, again, all are feverish, coughing, snotty, stuffy, and have a lack of appetite strong enough to scare any mother. Heaven knows that these kids are genetically bound to be "big boned" so I suppose eating a little less over a couple of days can't hurt em'! But, seriously...the sickness, still? I ended up taking Cooper back in to the urgent care clinic this past Saturday for the same thing he seemed to be getting better from just the previous week: swollen, sore tonsils, coughing, gagging..... See a pattern here? The doctors sure did. So, Cooper is going this week to see an ENT to consult on a tonsillectomy. At this point, I'm wondering if all three little ones are going to need this - I had a history of severe tonsil infections, and, according to my mother, absolutely should have had mine taken out when I was young. Corey had his taken out when he was 26 or 27 - That was the most miserable I think I'd seen him. But, knowing that we both have lifelong issues with this, I think it's safe to say that our children are predestined to be tonsillectomy candidates.

Softball season is upon us, and we're full swing into Katie's last little league season. She is 13, but since her birthday fell after the "too old for little league" cutoff date, she gets to play one more season than the rest of her friends. At first she was kind of leery, because she's a monstrous amazon child (5'8" and growing) who stood taller than everyone, including her coaches. Somehow, though, she still manages to fit in and have a great time. And, she's making some new friends in the process. New faces to the game have changed the tune of the game too - And even though games have started, the coach decided that practices will continue as well. They'll get no arguments from us!! And, to top off how proud we are of our little 13 year old Jekyll and Hyde, she made honorable mention on her report card this week! Yay, Katie!!!

And, what's my blog without a little bit o' Cooper to top it off? Allow me to share with you a conversation that my son had with the dermatologist's nurse yesterday:

Nurse: Hello Cooper, how are you today?

Cooper: My lip is thwelling.

Nurse: Oh, yeah....I see that. Did you eat something new?

Cooper: No, nothing new.

Nurse: Did you eat something bad?

Cooper: Yeah, it was bad. I ate a booger!

(we actually were there for his eczema, but he had a swollen lip that had appeared suddenly - No place like a Dermatologist office for something like that to happen)

Now, I'm fully aware that when my children know of this blog, can read it and understand it, I'll be at the top of their shit list for a while. But, hoping that they'll forgive me in the long run is what makes it easier to continue on.

Who would have thought that I would end up as the mother of four children? And, all mine to top it off? Not one of them is like another. Their personalities are different, their body shapes, their hair, their quirks - Not alike in any way! And, it's these eclectically charged personalities that makes this household tolerable in even the worst times. I'll be honest, there are days when I want to run away from it all. I want to shut the world out. I want there to be silence. I want to sleep. But, this is parenthood - And, until they're older, there's no such thing as silence or sleep.

Children, I concede to you!