Family Reunion

Parker's spring break was a few weeks ago--yipee. One of the empty, long days of mayhem, I took my monkeys to visit their relatives (which side, I wonder?) at the zoo. Good times, good times. Actual friends accompanied us, so it really was a bit of fun--three moms and 10 kids, with 4 restrained in strollers, of course. We have a zoo membership, which is awesome 'cause we can see a few animals, whine that we're thirsty and complain that we're tired of walking and then leave, saving the other creatures for another visit. I'm taking an online photography class and this outing was a perfect opportunity to practice and see what all I don't know. Here's the documented evidence, in case you're interested.

This one's too dark--I thought I lightened it? (Parker, Dallin, Ava, Merritt and Miller)

She's on the right animal--sweet princess appearance with the bite of a croc.

Spencer's intent on chaos--must restrain him quickly! And why is Parker showing off his water? Yes, I do hydrate them occasionally.

And this guy was posing, so I had to oblige with a shot. Wonder where his horn is?

And the boring artistic shots--I need to learn how to prettify them in Photoshop or something.

Ooh, bokeh.

I love this statue in the Garden of Peace--sure could use that spot of green in my yard. I think I'd have to camp out in it though. (The garden, not the statue.)

Pretty flowers!

Bunny Magic

Since Easter this year was the same Sunday as General Conference and we stay home to listen to/watch/snooze through it online, there really wasn't a Sunday for the monkeys to wear their Easter garb. I dressed the boys in their shirts the Sunday before Easter but was too lazy to iron Merritt's dress that day so she wore her dress the Sunday after Easter. (Thanks, Mom, for ironing that horrible beast!) I was determined to take pictures since I don't know if Merritt will ever wear the dress again--it's the wrinkle monster from heck. The boys aren't in their official Easter shirts, but it's really all about the pretty dresses anyway, right? And this is as good as it got of Boy #2--he's definitely two.

Now I'm not a horrible mom--I do document some of the events in my monkeys' lives.

What IS He Eating?

I' ve been watching this tonight and now I don't think I want Parker eating any more school lunches. Processed junk and I know he doesn't eat the veggies and fruit that comes with his meal--just the entree, chocolate milk and dessert. Dang it! Now I gotta start packing healthy lunches. Bummer.

And I know I'm lazy and the kids have nuggets or frozen pizza 1-2 nights a week. They always have a fruit with lunch and a veggie at dinner and I never fry (too messy!) but we'll have to have more salads. We already eat only whole-wheat bread but I'll definitely have to switch to brown rice and whole-wheat pasta. Good thing I'm too cheap to buy chips and cookies--won't have to cut that out, as long as they don't find my stash under the bed. :)

On Second Oink

No, I did not subject the entire world to my ill children this weekend. We missed the Primary Program anyway and just hung out at home. Parker is at school today, though; it was his field trip to the pumpkin farm. And HRH Merr WILL be going to school tomorrow. I don't know what I'm going to do with her...

Watch this:

Oinked Too Soon

Parker and Spence had the cough but no fever, Merr had the fever but no cough. Took Spence and Merr to the doc today--we had to restrain HRH to obtain a nose swab--and we're all partakers of the pork plague! Merr's fever was mostly Monday and Tuesday so it's too late now for Tamiflu. Park and Jay went to school/work Tues and today. They should really stay home tomorrow but hey, they've already exposed everyone and Parker's got a field trip to see Beauty and the Beast (He gags every time he hears the name: "Gross, Mom!") that I paid $10 for, so just Merr's missing school. The Primary program (church program where the kids sing the songs they've learned all year and say something they've learned in class) is on Sunday so maybe we'll just go to that, infect everyone, and then skip out on the rest of church for the day. Jay's had a bit of a cough and sore throat and I've just had the sore throat. I looked at all of our noses closely and none have become porcine and no one's oinking. Yet.

I'm No Award Winner

Disclaimer #1: The elementary school secretary is a crabby witch. She's grumpy and acts inconvenienced every time I call/visit for something. And it's not just my winning personality, I promise. She's mean to everyone.

Disclaimer #2: Even before children I was a nappin' queen. Can you imagine my utter need for a daily nap when I've got three wild and crazy monkeys?

Disclaimer #3: I can't think of one right now.

So yesterday I pick up HRH Merr from preschool at 11:30, we come home and have lunch. Then Nap Time! I lock her in her room (with a bungee cord--there's no other way to keep her contained.) And yes, that makes me cruel and unusual. Spence is in his cage and I snuggle down for a long fall nap. The phone rings at 1:30 but I don't recognize the caller id: "Sch & Parochial" so I ignore it. Two minutes later a friend from church calls, I ignore it--she'll leave a message, OK? Then immediately her husband's cell rings in. OK, ok, I'll answer this one.

"Uh, Misty, Parker's school called. There's been an accident on the playground and he's on his way to the hospital." What?! (FYI, Our friends are listed as emergency contacts for the school.) So I call the school and the crabby @#$%$ secretary acts all put out, like she tried and tried to call me (NOT. And since when does the school caller ID say Parochial and not the name of the school or the school district?) and Parker fell on the playground. He cut his head up in his hair, will need stitches and since she couldn't get a hold of me, they sent him to the hospital in the ambulance. I call Jay and he's out of breath from running to his car and panicked (He's a bit dramatic in a medical emergency.) Evidently the @#$$ crab only told him that Parker is hurt and bleeding from the head and is on his way to the hospital. Poor Jay! He doesn't know if Park's broke something or cracked his skull or if he's unconscious. It's just a cut and will need stitches.

I stay home with the other two and call Jay's work and our friends to explain things and calm everyone down, Jay hangs out in the ER with Parker and three stapes later, they come home. Jay's calves ached all night from running (We need more exercise, Dear.) and Parker's no worse for the wear.

So I'm a bad mother for napping and ignoring the phone call from the school. And here's pictures of Park to prove it:

Isn't my boy handsome, despite the bloody shirt and staples in his scalp? I love the closeup of his face--won't he catch all the girls in about 10 years?

And here's pictures Jay took from his iPhone in the ER.

A Pinch To Grow An Inch

Uno turned 6 on the 17th. I really don't think that's accurate. I'm too young and look too good to be the birther of a 6-year old. He was partied out! We had cake on the 11th at my Mom's (after the egg hunt) for him and Spence (1 on the 30th), cupcakes at school on his actual birthday, our crazy little clan that night for dinner AND a friends' party on the 18th. I thought 2 hours of 5 little boys would be plenty but Jay added an extra half-hour here and there and that last 60 minutes sure dragged along. Two little neighbors popped over so the big time-taker had to be sent home. We were scrounging for ways to keep 5 boys entertained without breaking something or staging a wrestling match.

We couldn't decide what to get him as a gift. Jay really wanted a Wii (but that was mainly for himself, I'm sure.) That's way too big a gift for a birthday so I thought that maybe Santa could bring one for our family this Christmas--big enough for everyone. Uno's always bringing home rocks and twigs and digs around in all the nooks and cranies in the house exploring (Note to Self: hide the sexy nighties better) so we went with a science kit and eye magnifier-thingie. Jay was hip on the Eyeclops but I think it takes a big of technique to focus and sit still and Uno's just got too many ants in his pants for that right now. He loves ickiness and has already made fake snot with his kit. Actually, these were perfect choices for him: a few days before his birthday I went to put something under his bed and accidently spilled some experiment he'd created: looked like barf but smelled like salsa with alot of water and string cheese mixed in. Jay got to clean that one up; I was running late for Muffins with Mom at school with Einstein.

Any More Flattery?

Friday was Uno's birthday, he's six and I sooo look good for a child that age (more on his birthday later if I don't forget or actually stop caring to try and remember to post) so we (just the Wallet, the Nose Wiper, Uno, HRH and the Messy Eater) went to dinner and then got ice cream. Unfortunately the kids don't eat free anymore and Chocolate w/Hershey's Special Dark was freshly churned so I had to get some.

I'm not skilled with hair and makeup, which Jay reminds me with his guffaws when I mistakenly look through college photo albums, but I was tired of my face and hair. Plus, I wanted to show my HOT bread-winner (but not the bread baker-that's my job) that I looked too good to be the birther of a 6-year old. I tried something new and went for flat hair and a sexy, smokey eye. Believe it or not, flat hair is tough--you don't want it to be too flat but you want it to be smooth and silky and swingy. For the eye, I went daring with a black eyeliner on top & bottom and 3 eyeshadows. Add mascara and I was set. And I looked gooood.

Jay arrived, we loaded the cattle-car and departed. I waited, knowing he was awed and struck mute by my beauty and looking for a bit of quiet to whisper sweet odes in my ear.

His eventual observation: "Misty, did you bruise your eye or something?"

Really, Dear, if you compliment me any more, I think I'll die of the overload.

From the Trenches

I've been "commanded" by an unnamed in-law to update my blog 'cause she's tired at looking at my 5 AM Reflections. Uh, sorry, but my life is really just a repeat of those occurrences over and over and over and... So as follows:

-After 8-9 (depending on who's counting) ear infections from October to late February, #3 got tubes in late March. I'm asked "Oh, he must feel so much better; does he act different?" Um, no, but he wasn't really a grumpy baby before. As long as he was well-fed and snuggled, he was content. My secret hope was his horrible night-time sleeping habits were due to earaches and this would be corrected with tubes. No. Unfortunately, his bad sleeping habits were due to babyness on his part and exhaustion/laziness on our part and I get to correct them. Now. At the ripe old age 1-year old on the 30th of this month. And with the freedom of weaning looming.

-Leading to: I haven't had more than 4-5 hours straight of sleep in well over a year (middle of the night pee breaks included). College friends who are familiar with my love of and addiction to sleep, naps, dozing and rest in general will be quite amused. Go ahead and laugh, I'll wait.

-On Tuesday, my only day of partial freedom (where #1 & #2 are in school/preschool for about 2 hours at the same time) this week, since somehow #2's Methodist preschool was closed on Good Friday (I thought only Catholics did that.) and I'd have no partial freedom then, I was messed over by the Fates. We're running late, SURPRISE, since Her Royal Highness Princess didn't want THAT shirt, no to THOSE panties, no to the potty, no, no, no, NO! Preschool starts at 9:30; we leave the house at 9:30. Tick, tick, tick into my "alone" time, or as alone as I get with #3 around. Zipping along in our oh-so-zippy Ford minivan (see next point) I turn left, left, left and then before my right HRH Princess starts crying, "Mommy, Spen-suh fwew up. Mommy!" So I whip into a gas station, grab a wet wipe to dab his chin and hop out. Tick, tick, tick. Yank open the door only to find that Mount Vesuvius has erupted all over my son in his car seat! Clearly 1 little wet wipe is hopeless against these ruins. With much less zip we return home. HRH waits in the van, wanting no part of cleanup duties. First I unbuckle #3 and sit him on the ground. Unknown matter is all over his coat, his shirt, onesie, pants, socks and shoes. It attaches itself to my coat and shirt and a large puddle remains in his carseat. Tick, tick, tick. I carry in the carseat and leave it for later, carry him in and strip him, throw my coat and shirt onto the stinky, sticky pile and toss him in the tub. Quick wash (damnit, I forgot the cotton balls and vaseline to protect his new tubes!) and dry him. Try and dress him while he whines and licks/gnaws on my bra--Not Now, Spencer! New shirt, new jacket for me and we're out the door. HRH Princess goes in #1's seat, #3 goes in her seat and I toss in a random booster saved for whenever #1 gains weight and hits 40 pounds-he can use it for today. We're now off, again, and HRH Princess gets to preschool at 10:30, only an hour late. I get a bit before I pick up #1 at 11:36 at kindergarten so I go shopping for ME.

-About a month or so ago, yet another quirk revealed itself in our lovely Ford minivan. I was turning right to enter the minivan caravan for HRH's preschool, late obviously, and obediently blinking right. When I straightened up, I was blinking left. Huh? I didn't notice until after I dump off HRH and I can't get it to stop blinking left. Scratch head again. After a fiddle or two with the lever it cuts off. Zip, zip, zip along. Next time, I turn left and keep blinking left. A few fiddles won't fix it and then Ford started beeping at me that I've left the blinker on. Uh, Duh, I know it's on! It won't turn off! I almost break off the lever and it still won't stop blinking left. I turn right and it blinks both ways. I push my flashers button and the right blinker turns off but the left blinker is eternal, along with the beep, beep, beep. Good thing I'm only running errands all morning. After 3-4 days of the beloved quirk, it stops as suddenly and mysteriously as it appeared. At least, until today. We go to my mom's, an hour away, and Jay drives. Lefty starts blinking about 10 minutes before we get there, Jay fumes and I laugh. "Dear, you've left the blinker on." He he he. I get to drive home and blinky left joined when I started the van. Yeah! I missed you while we hunted eggs and ate chocolate. I drove all the way home, 70 miles, with my left blinking at me and Ford beeping me: DUMmy, DUMmy, DUMmy, you're blinker's on. So the next time you're driving down the interstate and sneer at the stupid driver who forgot to turn off his blinker, think of me and give him the benefit of the doubt. He could be stuck in his own little hell with a broken blinker and a beeping car.

Just keeping it real.

A Good Day

Shopping with a good friend,
Lunch at a favorite spot,
Beautiful 72 degree weather,
Sunny skies,
Joyful offspring,
A nap,
Yard play with kiddies in the sun,
Chocolate chip pancakes for dinnner,
Batheing my babes--all in the tub together,
Snuggles, giggles, big hugs and slobbery kisses.

I want to take a deep breath, drink it all in and keep it close. Wishing to stop time's march won't keep them small forever, but I'll keep wishing all the same.

Rant Follows

Parker: "Mom, how come we're not eating what Barack Obama tells us to eat?"
Me: "Huh?"
Parker: "How come we don't eat what he tells us to?"
Me: "Uh, like what exactly?"
Parker: "He's the President and we're supposed to eat what he tells us to."
Me: "Who told you that? This is America, the land of the free, we can eat--"
Parker: "And we don't wear what he tells us to wear."
Me: "Parker, where did you hear this?"
Parker: "He's the President and tells us what to do."
Me: "Honey, this is the United States and we can eat what we want and wear what we choose and no one tells us what to do."
Parker: "But he's the President and tells us what to do and we're supposed to do it."
Me: "The President doesn't tell us what to do. That's not his job."
Parker: "Then what does the President do?"
Me: "Uh...I have no idea."

So what do I tell Parker what the President does all day? I have no clue what he does, especially to put it in terms Park would understand. I don't understand it myself and I'm old.

So here's my rant: I don't trust a one of 'em in Washington. Jay told me that he was reading up on the stimulus package and Columbus is getting $1.5 mil to try and stop prostitution downtown and some other city got $900,000 for new doorbells. What?! So they're also taking my money from my wallet to give to idiots in Detroit and big banks and it's all supposed to stimulate me to part with what pennies are left? Give me a break! Since Detroit isn't making a product anyone wants, we should give them our money anyway 'cause they're so dumb? What happened to the $780 mil that went to banks but never got passed along to borrowers? Cities want a handout and Jay told me the porn industry wants a bailout. (I guess Americans are eliminating "luxury items" from their budget since so much of our money is going to the idiots.) Then there's the whole foreclosure thing. Yeah, I know it's sad that someone might lose their house, but why did they think they could buy a house bigger than they could afford? We'd sure like to move on up but we're realistic about what mortgage we can swing. Why do I have to let more idiots dip into my wallet, just because I've been trying to save and be honest and live within our means.

And the big mouths in Gubment claim they speak for average Americans, etc. I don't know if you got a call, but nobody asked MY opinion. Bull hockey!

Reminds me of a bit in the classic movie "Pure Country" which I'll clean up for y'all with sensitive ears:
Old Guy: "You know what the white stuff is on the top of chicken shiz?"
George Strait: "What?"
Old Guy: "Chicken shiz."

So the idiots are covered in "white stuff" and pretending it's not chicken shiz.

Little Romeo

On Tuesday, Park, Spencer and I went to Taco Bell for lunch, sans Merritt. Spencer was in "a mood" which is rare for my cutie--screaming, fussing, wouldn't eat, wouldn't nurse, just MAD. So anyway, I'm trying to keep him quiet and order and there's Parker, finding a cute girl and becoming fast friends. Can't this boy be restrained? Can't the charm be turned off?

At our table, he's all "Mom, can we sit by them? Huh? I wanna sit by them. Where are they going to sit?" Spencer's screaming, bugging everyone during their refried beans and stuffed burritos and Parker's eyeing the cute brunette with big dimples. So she and her Grandma sit at a tall table by us, Parker scarfs down 1/2 a taco and then begs to sit near them. He sits at a tall table by theirs and she gets her Grandma to switch seats so she's right by Park with her back to his. CUTE! Grandma: "So that's why you wanted to switch, so you could flirt." Giggles, hair pulling and chatter about age (she's almost 6 too--3 weeks older!) ensue.

Unfortunately, their little romance ended quick with Spencer's continued tantrum. Plus, she was done with her taco. Sorry, Bud. I'm sure it's not the last flirtation ruined by a family member. Too bad you didn't get a phone number.

Heaven for Today

Jay--some weird rash under/beside his left eye, sore back and stiff neck from wrestling and snow sports with Parker, back at work and glad of the break from home

Parker--stir-crazy after a week of no school and being snowed in

Merr--runny nose and whiny attitude, "I want to play in the snow too; the snow's too cold; I can't walk in the snow; carry me; my nose is running; waaa."

Spencer--snotty nose with a dried, green booger stuck on the end that he won't let me clean off, ouchy diaper rash, probably 2 ear infections and a grumpy attitude

Me--mastitis (considering myself lucky--it's the 1st time ever and with 3 kids!), sinus headache/infection maybe, stiff neck from lack of sleep, stir-crazy from being snowed in with three monkeys

And ya know what? I wouldn't change anything, except maybe the runny noses and boob troubles. I sure love me some crazy monkeys!

His Father's Son

Parker comes home today from kindergarten and shows me a paper from his backpack: "Carly gave me her phone number, Mom, so I can call her some time so we can get together and play. And I gave her my phone number, too, so she can call me."

It's already started and he gets it all from Jay. I never had those skillz at 25, much less 5. He's the only 5-year old I know that can go to playland at the mall, find the two cutest girls there and get them to chase him around and around. He'll be hopeless after puberty.

Where were you?

Sitting in the van in Wal-Mart's parking lot with the heater going, eating my Wendy's grilled chicken sammich with Parker, feeding Spencer his Mixed Veggies and Bananas in my lap, trying to hush them both so I can listen to history on my radio. I didn't vote for him-I voted for the old, wrinkled white dude, but it's still historic and I heard it.

Did you?

Jets from Heaven

Parker: "Mom, I think it's almost time for Bowen to come back."

Me: "Why do you say that?"

Parker: "Cause Grayson and Sterling came back and so Bowen will be coming back soon."

Me: "But Parker, Grayson and Sterling were only in China and Bowen's in heaven. It's not just a quick plane ride from heaven to come back."

Parker: "Yeah, but Grayson and Sterling are back and I think Bowen's coming back soon, too."

I wish my faith was as simple and pure as Parker's. I'm hoping it'll be soon, too.

I Love the Nightlife, I love to Boogie!

Legal Disclaimer: All events hereby described are true and somewhat accurate. Actual time may be varied due to the psychotic state of the observant/participant, but the events are real. (Dum dum dum)

First, a little background: Jay is currently taking two classes for his MBA with only one more next semester to finish and it's online! Reasons for the MBA: 1. Classes are free to employees of the University and 2. Being a student delays paying student loans. Win, win!

So last night Jay's working on a paper in our basement until the wee hours of the morning. I'm good and turn off the light at 11:48 PM. Spencer fuses at 12:40, but I'm determined to have a good night's sleep before Christmas, dang it! I practice tough-love here on out. I stick in the paci, further crying, more paci stuffing and then quiet. Jay, aka Mr. Softie, can't stand the fussing so he turns off the monitor in the basement in order to not hear my cruelty. I go to bed. Sleep...then Spence fussing; "No, you will not be nursed! You're not hungry!" Shove the paci, grind my teeth and get in bed. Between 12:40 and 4ish, I'm up 4 times reacquainting him with his pacifier. Argh!

By the 4th time, Parker was awake and climbing in bed with me. "Where's Daddy? My tummy feels funny, like I'm hungry but not really hungry." "Yeah, whatever. Go to sleep." And Merritt joined up somewhere in here, too. I don't care, just lay there quiet so I can sleep, people! Turn over, more teeth gnashing and blanket tugging.

Then gag, gag, gag. Gag. Bleeeech! "Mommy!" Bleech, bleechhhh. "It won't stop." I jump up, try and turn on the light. Poor Merr's sitting there beside him, thinking "Yucky." I try to buzz Jay through the phone--no answer. "Parker, just keep barfing on the blankets; don't get up! Keep it on the sheets." Jaaaaay!

Jay had been taking an hour-long nap, so he's comatose and not much help at first. Parker's moved to the bathroom and stripped, Merritt's put back in her bed and I strip our bed. Jay, in his undies at 5 AM, is unwilling to go outsite to shake out the blankets. "That stuff won't shake off." "Yeah, but all the bits will be all over my washer and I'll have to pick them all out." "Just wash 'em, I'll pick out the bits." Yeah, right. Is it wrong to just throw away the blanket and sheets and get new ones? I hate picking barf bits out of my washer.

Parker's waiting for a shower and Jay starts shaving--at 5 AM! "I'm already up. Might as well shave before a shower." So they shower, Parker's dressed and put back in his bed. Jay works more on his paper, I think, and then comes to bed, maybe? By this point details are hazy.

Luckily, Spencer sleeps through all the chaos! Hooray! But as Parker whines a bit and climbs into bed, the monster stirs. Argh! It's 5 AM, my tough-love is broken and I nurse him. Merritt and Parker wind up in our bed, again, and Jay leaves for work somewhere around 10:30.

Moral of the story: when your child says his/her tummy hurts, don't just think it's gas or they need to poop. Merr taught us this on Sunday, 5 minutes before we might possibly been on time for church. Bleech! Believe them and move them immediately to a facility safe for hosing down.

How did you sleep last night?


Oh, and our recent family photos can be viewed at my Flickr site on the right, over there---->. And trust me, these were the best of the lot. Why do I have to include my kids in my family photos? Merr, especially, was not feeling it. Have a peek, if you wish, and get a gander at my new 'do. Funny, it looks similar to all of my other 'dos.

Bah Humbug

So here's my Weekend Update, except it's not really the weekend and it's more of a random list from my noggin'.

1. All 3 monkeys are on antibiotics. The older two for no real reason (wack-o doctor) and Spencer for his third ear infection in his right ear. Poor guy.

2. At above doctor's visit, she found a tick in Parker's ear. Well, not really a tick but some other dead bug. A few months ago we'd been at Michael's and he'd started whining and fussing--not new--and slapping his ear--new. Said there was a bug in there scratching. I didn't see anything so I just dribbled some water in there and called it a day. Guess there really was a bug in his ear. So Jay took him to an ENT to get it out with some special thing-a-ma-jig and Parker's so proud of his jar with the dead bug that was in his ear for a month or more. I'm such a good mom!

3. Merritt's potty train still hasn't left the station! I thought I'd try the brilliant idea of throwing a toy in the "trash" every time she peeped (Parker's logical word, since we say pooPed, too) or pooped in her diaper/pull-up/whatever. She has clearly won this war since it became a game for her. Periodically throughout the day she'll casually bring me a toy to put in the "trash" and then continue on her merry way.

4. How come blog surfing (aka finding blogs of random people you knew way, way back linked on other people's blog and you just HAVE to read every single one of their posts to see if their kids are as cute as yours or if they've gained as much weight as you) can literally suck up your whole day? I mean, I'm just innocently clicky clicking and my raving beasts are either gnawing on my limbs or beating each other over a red crayon. Give me my comatose-blog/Internet-addiction time, people!

5. Why must I include my offspring in my yearly Christmas traditions? I'm trying diligently to start and keep a little advent thing going so Parker and Merr will stop thinking that Christmas is about Santa coming and bringing you everything your greedy heart desires. Each night I read a story from an advent book Jessica (my much older sister) made me years ago (skip the song; takes too long), read a story from the basket of Christmas storybooks (put away every January so they don't get sick of the books throughout the year) and then read a scripture and put a piece of our foam nativity scene together. During this time, meant to be warm and loving, kindling true feelings of the Savior in our hearts, Spencer's either fussing or yacking, Merritt and Parker are fighting over who gets to put on the foam piece and who gets to pick the book and who gets to sit on which side of me. Do you realize how peaceful, quiet (alright, and boring and pointless) it would be if my monkeys were put in bed first? It's the season of peace and love for your fellowman, so hug your brother/sister or you're in trouble!

6. Lastly, why must my children put on their best brat personas every year at this time? They know they're supposed to be good for goodness sake, but who cares? Santa comes anyway and I want this and this and this and gimme gimme and waaaa! I wish I had a nickle for every time Parker says "I wish I didn't have such a mean mommy." or "I want a new mommy." Truly warms my heart.

And since my adoring fans are clamoring for a glimpse of my new looks, I'll post a photo just as soon as we get them from the photographer. Taking pictures with your kids, now that's a post for another time. Thank goodness it's only once a year.

Note to the Maid

Please be advised that failure to remove writing utensils from a 5-year old boy's trousers will result in disastrous consequences to the entire dryer-full of laundry, as well as to the dryer itself. Such dire consequences will require much time and labor spent with a box of cotton swabs, a bottle of isopropyl alcohol and a keen eye for spying spots. Upon failure to completely remove such stains to the countless articles of clothing, cheap hairspray may be applied, while also crossing your fingers. The ultimate and unfortunate defeat will most likely necessitate complete disposal of said garments.

Therefore, be mindful to always check all trouser and shirt pockets of previously mentioned 5-year old little boy.