Worthless Worry

I am due to walk in the Breast Cancer 3-day in just 8 more days. In those three days, I will walk a total of 60 miles.

Initially I was worried about raising the $2,300 that is required of each walker. I reached and exceeded my goal in less than four weeks, thanks to my wonderful and generous family and friends.

Having my financial goal reached, I immediately began to worry about another thing.

And it is certainly not what I should be wasting my time worrying about.

Because I am not so worried about walking 20 miles one day, then getting up and walking another 20 miles the next day, and then getting up a third day and walking another 20 miles. Nope. That's not so scary to me.

And I'm not worried about freezing my buttooti off while sleeping in the tents right near where the ocean waves crash, because my friend and I are much too wimpy for that and we right away opted to rent a room at a nearby hotel.

And I'm not worried about blisters on my toes from all the walking, because I bought three new pair of tennis shoes, new socks with wicking, and a package of mole skin which is said to keep feet free from blisters.

And I'm not worried about becoming dehydrated while walking 60 miles, because I went right out and bought a handy-dandy fanny pack that holds not one, but two water bottles...one for water, the other for Gatorade.

And I'm not worried about looking silly while out there walking 60 miles, because my team of triplet moms bought the cutest and most comfortable pink t-shirts that we had printed to say, "More the Merrier, Walker for Knockers. Got triplets?"

But my number one worry DOES have something to do with the previously mentioned triplets....and child number four....and a darling husband!

My NUMBER ONE worry about walking in the Breast Cancer 3-Day walk is.....

WHAT MY HOUSE WILL LOOK LIKE WHEN I RETURN HOME AFTER BEING GONE FOR 3 DAYS!!!!

I know it sounds absurd, but it is the truth. On numerous occasions I have returned home after just 3 short hours to find the house in total shambles.

On numerous occasions my husband questions whose standards we are going by.

On numerous occasions I remind him that we are a family of humans....not pigs!

Calgon...Take Me Away!

I didn't need to hear the other side of the conversation my 4-year old daughter was having with my mother, to decipher what the conversation was all about. Annie's response made it crystal clear.

"Oh Ma...she's ALWAYS grumpy like that."

Just what you want to hear when you're recovering from the conversation you overheard your son having with the puppy while preparing for his evening bath.

"Lily....Do you like licking butts? Stop that!"

And that came right after cleaning up snotty tissues that same puppy retrieved from the bathroom trashcans and shred to a million and one pieces...for the tenth time today!

And remind me.....why did I give in and get that puppy????

Oh Calgon....PLEASE take me away!!!

Halloween Virus

It seems that the release of creative juices that I talked about in my previous post did nothing for keeping our home virus free.

In fact, Angel has come to a completely different conclusion.

You see, last year I received the dreaded phone call from the kids' school nurse.

"Mrs. Kamahi? How soon can you be at the school to pick up Isabella? She has vomited ALL OVER the health office and she is really upset." Her beautiful princess make-up was dripping from her eyes down to her chin, and the real Princess Ariel would have been mortified if her dress had the odor that hers had!

Fast forward to this year....Friday after school, Bella began wriggling around on the couch, complaining that her stomach was hurting. I was quick to chalk it up to the fact that she ate her weight in candy during her class party.

When her complaining continued the duration of our neighborhood Halloween Party, I knew that it was more than just a sugar-high. And when she requested to go home while all her friends were running around, playing and screaming with delight, I threw in the towel and called it a night.

It was then that Angel made her conclusion.

"Mom? Wasn't Bella sick last year, too? I think she has the Halloween Virus!"

I've Got a Bug

Seems like the most popular conversation between the moms at school has been whether or not they are going to get their kids vaccinated for the flu and H1N1. Many of the students have been out because they have had one bug strain or another.

It has been cause for alarm and confusion among these highly involved parents, as there are so many different reasonable arguments for and against these vaccines.

I, too, fall into the category of alarmed and confused mother, and I have come to the conclusion that I am fighting the confusion with a bug of my own.

I'm concerned that I have contracted a crafting/baking bug, being that all I can think about lately is crafting and baking. If the release of creative juices is a remedy for keeping viruses out of our home, we are completely covered for the next 3 flu seasons, for sure!

For the kid's school carnival cake walk... Mr. & Mrs. Frankenstein

The only creepy crawly creatures that are allowed within 100 feet of our house...Friendly Spider Hairbows

When my husband asked me to make a treat for him to share with his co-workers at the office, I went all out....Mummy Cookies, Festive Cake with Chocolate Ganache, & Candy Corn CookiesI'm thinking that Betty Crocker should stop sending me email updates with "Fun and Delicious Recipe Ideas." If she doesn't, I fear that my family will be busting the seams of their size 6 and 7 clothing. And I am not at all interested in gaining back the 40 pounds I lost over two-and-a-half years ago!

Little Jokestress

Sweet and innocent, wouldn't you say? Sugar and spice and everything nice, right? Oh, how I wish that were true.
In reality, Bella is my jokestress, (feminine for "jokester," of course).

Today our elementary school took part in a special fundraiser for Rady Children's Hospital. The students sold a special edition of the newspaper called, "Kid's News Day." It features articles about children who have overcome great odds and who have lived through serious trauma.

At the request of my children, I read to them numerous articles about children who experienced serious trauma. They were genuinely concerned about what happened to these kids. A number of relevant questions were asked. I felt quite proud that my children had such empathy for what these children were going through.

And then, mostly by accident, Bella threw in her humor.

Pointing to a picture of one of the patients and a woman, Bella questioned, "Is that the little girls' mom?"

After reading the caption below the picture, I answered, "No, it is her Occupational Therapist."

Without hesitation, she retorted, "Therapist? Is that something like, My dog pist?"

Leave it to Bella to lighten up a serious situation!

I'm Back!

For the first time since July 2, I am actually sitting down to my computer to type a post on my horribly neglected blog, and....I only have 14 minutes 32 seconds to do just that, because my kiddos would be mortified if I didn't pick them up from school.

Why does it seem that I have become a slave to a schedule? More than ever, it seems that I am barking a time frame to my kids.

"We're leaving in 6 minutes!"
"In 5 minutes we need to be downstairs eating breakfast!"
"It's 7:30! Time to strap in the car and leave for school!"
"Your soccer game is at 10:00! It's time to go!"

Notice the exclamation marks...those were not put there by mistake. Oh, quite the contrary. By the time I've repeated myself 5 times to 4 children, an exclamation is quite necessary! If you do the math, you will conclude, that I have repeated myself +/- 20 times.

What am I thinking? I forgot to include my darling husband. Nine times out of ten, he needs to hear the barks as well!

Now that I've got all that off my chest, I'll follow up soon with a post of substance! I'll even include some of the thousands of pictures that were taken during my sabbatical!

I've missed you blog world!!!

Find Me A Hole...Or Some Super Glue

I know that it wasn't long ago that I swore that I wouldn't be heading back to Walmart ever again after my sweet, little Annie brought me to my knees in embarrassment, but if truth be told, I've entered those doors at least 50 times since I made that promise.

And on that 5oth visit, my clan was determined to embarrass me even deeper!

It almost seemed as if it was all part of their master plan. You see, my girls have entered a phase where frilly skirts and dresses are their, "threads of choice," and they talked me into toting them down to Walmart so they could pick out some fabric to make them some skirts.

Because my children easily engage in conversation with anyone and everyone, they quickly traded in the audience of the nice lady who was looking through the pattern books, to an audience of the two employees who were working at cutting the fabric. If I knew ahead of time, which way the conversation was going to go, I would have only chosen to buy 1/8 of a yard of one fabric, rather than 5 yards of five different fabrics.

In less time than it took the employee to cut one of the pieces of fabric, each of my four rugrats darlings had blurted out statements that were totally unfounded. Well, most of the statements were, anyways.

I'm not even sure of the question that was asked to intiate such conversation, and I was waiting for the hidden camera to make it's sudden appearance.

Angel began with, "Our mom doesn't even want us!"

Isaac followed up in confirmation with, "Yah! She screams at us ALL.THE.TIME!"

And as if it was relevant to the previous digs, Bella blurted out, "Yah....My mom had 2 miscarriages!"

Was it pent up anger spewing from my kids' lips? I'll admit that I have perfected the Art of Screaming Loud Talking, but to suggest that I "don't even want them?" That is utterly obsurd. While the employee fidgeted with a computer malfunction, instead of climbing under the fabric cutting table, I loudly explained to my kids how very much I wanted them.

With wide grins, our two audience members tried to comfort me. I'm sure they were worried about the loss of color from my face, and the pharmacy was a much safer departement for my needs than the fabric department at that moment in time.

Or maybe the hardware department would have better suited my needs. Had I first bought a tube of super-glue and glued those cute lips shut, I never would have had the problem in the first place!