Saturday, September 29, 2007

Hurricane Kamahi x 4

If a natural disaster were to hit my home, I imagine that it would look something like this...When only a few hours earlier, it looked like this...
For today was the fourth birthday party of my trio. A Jungle Safari party to be exact. It never ceases to amaze me how I can work for months planning a party, for days cleaning for a party, and for hours preparing food for a party, and in only 3 hours, it's over. I'm left with a sink full of dirty dishes, a floor that resembles that of a pig-pen, and a room full of toys and clothes that I have NO idea where to put. My children have taken every-single-toy and accessory out of it's original box and then ask me to help them figure it out!
"Where does this piece go, Mom?"
"How do I transform this guy back into a police car, Mom?"
"How do I plug this into the televsion so I can practice math, Mom?"
"How do we play this Memory game, Mom?"
Like a rapid firing machine gun, questions are being shot my way!!! And did I mention that these questions are being barked at me all while I'm trying to reconstruct the house that looks as if it was just hit by Hurrican Kamahi x 4?

Which is why I say every year... "Next year I'm having a small party!!!" Yet every year, I throw a BIG party with lots of fun decorations, games, and goodie-bags for all the kids.

Although I'm sure it seems like I'm complaining about the number of stresses that come with throwing a party, and it is a lot of work, I thoroughly enjoy the whole thing. There is definitely more fun that comes out of it. It's all worth it to see the joy and elation on my kids' faces and on those of the children who attend.

There will come a time when my kids tell me they'd rather go out with their friends to celebrate their birthday. They won't want me transforming our patio into a jungle with streamers and fake trees. They will be embarrassed if their cake bares the face of a lion or a monkey. Pin the tail on the lion would be a blow to their reputation.

Until then, I will plan to my hearts content, sucking up the stress of it all in order to make birthday memories that will last forever!

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Cruel and Unusual Punishment?

I like to think of myself as a kind and caring individual. Not exactly a pet lover, but don't despise pets either. I recently adopted my aunt's cat because I worried that my children would forever have a fear of pets if I never exposed them to pets.

You see, until recently, the sight of a dog threw each of my four little ones into a panic that would make one believe they were being abducted. Shrill screams and utter fear would lead one to believe that the dog was attacking one of my children. Never been bitten, never been attacked, but never-the-less, my children feared pets.

So I have digressed from my original story...
Forget dogs. Let's talk about rodents. A level on the animal pyramid (if there was such a thing) that I believe should be extinct. That's right-- extinct just like dinosaurs, just like woolly mammoths, just like all the other animals that no longer exist on our earth.


They make feel dirty, violated, and down-right disgusting. Which is why I about lost my mind when I realized I had- what I thought was- A, singular, One, uno mice living in my car.

What the heck, it's the perfect place for a mice to grow fat and happy. I'm sure they feasted on goldfish, peanut butter and crackers, cheese-its, cheetohs, and whatever else my little angels left lying around in our van. And might I add, either mice are not prone to sweet-tooths, or they aren't into sticky goods, because they never consumed the fruit snacks that were stuck to the various parts of the car.

If anything, I learned a few things about mice through this whole experience. I've come to the conclusion that just because mice don't eat fruit snacks, it doesn't mean they are completely picky about what they eat. I say this because a few of their favorite snacks are my passenger-side-rear seatbelt, Annie's carseat cushion, and my built in carseats that are in the middle row. Missing pieces in all the above mentioned is what alerted me to the fact that there was even a rodent problem at all.

So my darling husband sets a trap and BAMB-O, within minutes, what he says is the one an only mouse living in my car, is gone. FOR GOOD! He assures me that he's taken care of the problem and I can feel comfortable in my car again.

He was wrong. Mouse droppings proved that the problem WAS NOT solved.
A couple of days later, we heard the snap of the trap from our bedroom window. Mouse number two. DEAD. GONE.

Now he assured me the problem was REALLY solved.

But, feeling uneasy about his conclusion, I asked him to set a third trap. Which he gladly set, feeling confident that this time he would prove me wrong.

WRONG!!! Pesky mouse number three was caught in the trap. ALIVE AND KICKING. That nasty mouse dragged that trap like a ball and chain, all the way from the back seat to the front. I prepared a bucket of water to drown the mouse and kill him for good. My gentle hearted husband puts him in the water, only to pull him out again, letting him go on the mountain side behind our house. He didn't have the heart to do away with the rodent that is helping to destroy my van.

BUT-- at least now the problem was solved. No more mice could possibly be living in that van!!!!

Wrong yet again. Mouse number four was just caught. Mouse number four was also ALIVE. And mouse number four-- WAS NOT GOING TO LIVE.
Because I won't touch a rodent with a hundred foot pole, and because my husband has that gentle-spirited thing going on, neither of us would agree to "finish off" the rodent.

So, being that it was trash day, my husband carried him down to the street and disposed of him in the most humane way he knew how....into the big, gray trash bin that would ultimately carry him to rodent heaven....the dump!!!

But this didn't happen until Angel, Isaac, Bella, & Annie investigated the situation and gave their opinion of what should happen to this mouse. And let me just say that maybe they have overcome their fear of pets, because their solutions were much more humane than any I could come up with!

Friday, September 21, 2007


I teach my children to say “please” and “thank-you.”
I teach my children to say “excuse me” for all the right reasons.
I teach my children to be kind and polite to those around them.

And just when I think they’re beginning to grasp the concept of having good manners, this morning I hear my little Annie proudly shouting from the potty…

“Angel….Angel….ANGel….ANGELLLLLLL…..Come see the ‘nudder big log I made!”

And when Angel fails to reply, she then turns the attention to me!

“Mom….MOOOOMMMMMMM….Come see the ‘nudder big log I made!!!!”

Because I still have the job of wiping her “booty,” as she calls it, I obliged her and commented on how large it really was. Even now I’m shocked that, THAT can come out of such a little bottom.

So I walk out of the bathroom chuckling at the whole scenario, yet at the same time, mortified at the thought that my kids may be this proud at school, or some other public place!

I suppose there will be a day when modesty will just click. Maybe that will be the same day that the act of them loving one another will just “click!” Until then, I pray for patience!!!

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Crying Power

So, today as I was dealing with my life with four kids, I decided that it would be in my best interest to invent a way to convert my kids crying into electrity.

They have water powered electricity, correct?
They have wind powered electricity, correct?
They have solar powered electricity, correct?
Why on earth then, has no one thought of crying powered electricity.

You see, my kids cry and whine so much, and I'm the type of person who tries to see the good in things. Even today, I still fail to see the good in crying. If only I could figure out a way to convert it into something useful, I may forgive my kids for this horrible habit.

I thought children cried when they were babies, before they had language to explain their feelings. Each of my four kids have a highly developed grasp of the English language, yet they continue to whine and cry about what seems like EVERYTHING!!!

When will it end?