The Difference Between Girls and Boys....

Girls are fond of wearing curlers...










Boys are just as happy to wear yucky, ugly, fake teeth!

Ever wondered...Part Two

I've already shown you what happens when you hook up the positive and negative battery cables backwards and then start the car.

But have you ever wondered what your kids would look like if they were standing in the vicinity of the Kitchen Aid mixer and it was turned on while the blades were in the mid-air, full of gooey, peanut butter cookie dough?

You can thank Annie for putting an end to your wonder.

In an attempt to ease the disappointment of not being able to go with their brother to Pa and Mimi's house for a sleep-over, I promised the girls that we would do something fun. Their idea of fun was making something for dessert.

It was Annie's turn to turn on the mixer after adding the first cup of flour to the mixture. As is common with her, she did not listen to me when I asked her to, "Wait....WAit.... WAAAAIIIIIT!"

Within seconds, peanut butter dough covered the west side of my kitchen, and everything and everyone that was near. Because the room was immediately filled with infectious, hysterical giggles and funny, dough covered faces, there was no anger on my part over the mess. It was a memory made with my girls that will never be forgotten.

Once the giggles subsided, the only other noise that could be heard was the lapping up of dough off of arms, hair, counter tops, and even the floor!

The Little Salesman

I bet the marketing agent who designed the commercial for the "Toby Machine" had no idea that his target audience would be a 4 year old boy concerned for his mother. A couple of Saturday mornings ago, his audience was just that.

The conversation couldn't have come at a more appropriate time. I was in the laundry room, washing and folding clothes by the load-full, when my very concerned son came bopping through the door.

"Mom....Mom....Do you want to buy a Toby?"

Caught off guard, I gave him a questioning, blank stare. Because no words escaped my mouth, he continued.

"It washes clothes faster and gets the wrinkles out all at the same time. It's not available in stores. You just call the number on the screen. I don't know the number yet though. I just wanted to see---Do you want to buy one?"

I could do nothing more the grin from ear to ear and scoop my son up off the floor with a great, big bear hug. He is obviously aware of the fact that I spend way too much time in the laundry room. I guess he's also noticed that due to my Type-A neurotic personality, I iron the t-shirts that he and his sisters wear.

What I should have replied to him was, "No son. I don't need a Toby machine. I need a Toby human who can do the laundry from start to finish.

Sticky Fingers

You would never know by looking at him that he is capable of such a thing, but the other day, Isaac's actions could have been punishable by a mother's beating jail time! My sweet spirited, gentle-hearted little boy, tinkered in thievery this past Monday, leaving me, his mother, absolutely mortified.

We went on an outing with our neighborhood friends to a nearby scrapbook store that was having a visit from the Easter bunny. Within the store was a little area with toys for the kids to play with while the mothers shop. Because he lacks toys at his own house, he felt the need to pocket one of the community action figures. I never would have known if his little friend didn't rat him out.

"Isaac has one of the toys from the play area in his pocket!"

Nor would I have been as embarrassed if I hadn't spent the previous 30 minutes discussing with my friend how rowdy and out of control some of the preschool boys were in our kids' class.

Never did it cross my mind that MY OWN son might have little quirks of his own.

And then, as if he was trying to polish his sticky fingers, he made a go at thievery again!

No more than 3 hours later. Also in the presence of my friend.....with whom I was discussing previously about how rowdy and out of control some of the preschool boys were in our kids' class!

Can you say MOR-TI-FIED? Yah, that's exactly what I was when I had to call my friend and tell her that my son stole her son's little, plastic, blue car....because once again, Isaac's bin full of 100+ Matchbox cars was in need of a blue, plastic variety.

She laughed the whole time I wanted to stomp on Isaac's skinny, little, thieving fingers!

But the better punishment came when the prison left a message on our answering machine. Yes, (Ma's) Fulson State Prison called for Isaac, warning him where stealing would get him.

He was probably right up next to me on the mortified scale when he imagined a black and white police car coming to take him away!

I'm hoping this is a habit that makes an immediate exit!

Look Mom... We're Growing Radishes!

I wanted to blow fire from my mouth, straight over to my investigative little son, knocking him plum on his bootie. And if the incident weren't so cute, I may have done just that.


We spent a good part of the afternoon planting more flowers around our yard. We added more petunias, more snap-dragons, and more pansies. We even sprinkled sunflower seeds for a second time, hoping this time they will grow into beautiful flowers rather than feed our neighborhood birds.


I even planted some naked-lady bulbs that were given to us by my mother-in-law. These bulbs were the center of the incident today.


After planting the bulbs in various places, I turned around to plant some of the other flowers adjacent to one of the locations I put the bulbs. While doing so, Isaac declares very excitedly,


"Look Mom! We have radishes coming up!"


I turned to see him proudly holding a group of the naked lady bulbs that I had just secured below ground.

As I said, I wanted to knock him on his bottom, but his excitement was contagious. We all burst into laughter as I explained what he had just excavated.

* * *

Isaac was on a role today. Not long after he escaped the Wrath of Mom during the bulb incident, he escaped it yet again.

A couple of men going door to door selling frozen meat, made the descent up our driveway. The conversation went something like this.

Meat Men: "Have you bought from us before?"

Me: "If you're selling meat, no. We're not meat eaters here."

Meat Men: "Okay. Have a nice---"

Isaac interrupts: "I'm a meat eater. We eat meat here, Mom!"

I wanted to drag him into the house by his nose hairs, but again, I chuckled at his naivety.

Of course we eat meat here. I just don't feel comfortable buying it from a couple of men driving around in a little truck with a garage-style freezer bungee'd to the back!

Protective Mom Syndrome

I suffer from many non-identified syndromes, all which fall under the main category,

Type-A, Neurotic Personality Syndrome

They include, but are not limited to:

Put Everything in its' Rightful Bin Syndrome

Bows Must Match the Outfit Syndrome

A Stain on a Garment Must Never Be Worn Again Syndrome

Never Leave the House With Toys Strewn About Syndrome

Milk Mustaches on the Mouths MUST Be Erased before Entering a Public Place Syndrome

Wash Your Hands Immediately Upon Returning Home From a Public Outing Syndrome

And most recently acquired:

Protective Mother When Child is Lonely at School Syndrome

When picking up the kids from preschool the other day, Isaac had a very forlorn look on his face. His teacher informed me that he had been asking about me all day. He informed me of the same information.

Whenever he wants to tell me something without letting anyone else hear the details, he tells me that he has a secret. Last Friday, he had a secret to tell me.

Bending over so my ear was at the level of his mouth, in a hushed whisper he told me that he was asking for me all day.

"Do you want to know why I was asking for you?" he asked me.

"Of course I want to know why." I replied.

"Because I love you so much."

Just the words I love to hear! I expressed my love for him in return and didn't give the conversation another thought until he brought it up at dinner that same night.

"Do you know why I was asking for you all day at school today? Because I was feeling all alone. No one wanted to play with me except for the girls."

My heart skipped a beat and all I could think of doing was protecting my little boy's feelings. How on earth could no one want to play with my son? The most gentle spirited, easy-going boy in the whole class.

Then at school today, he cried hysterically when it was time for Mark and I to leave the classroom. He clung to Mark like a koala baby does to his mother.

I have my theory on the matter, but none the less, it's a difficult position to be in as a parent.

You see, most of the boys in the class are complete monsters very rambunctious, teetering on disrespectful most days. Isaac just does not fit in with that behavior, and I would never want him to. He would would be black and blue if he ever behaved like those boys!

As a result, he feels that he has no one to play with in the class.

It is my hope that there will be more boys like him in his kindergarten class next year. If not, it's going to be a very long year.

I will have to bite my tongue while trying to teach Isaac the laws of human nature. I never thought the stress of making friends would be an issue at such a young age. Then again, it shouldn't surprise me...most parents these days let the kids run the household.

That's another subject for another day! For today, I'm dealing with Protective Mother When Child is Lonely at School Syndrome!

Off They'll Go

It is nearly unbelieveable to me that four years ago at this time, I was trying to figure out how I was going to make it through my day that started promptly at 6:00 am with the moans and groans of three hungry infants.Come August, I will be trying to figure out how to awaken four children, make them presentable, and feed them, before loading them into our personal bus to get them to school on time.

You see, today, I hand delivered three kindergarten registration packets to the front office of the elementary school where my trio will start school in the fall. Within minutes of that delivery, I hand delivered to the district office, the registration packet for Annie to begin preschool come April.

I'm convinced that there has been some warp speed happening in our home, for it seems that just yesterday, they were babies, swaddled up in receiving blankets, and drinking formula from a luke-warm bottle.

Mark accuses me of being much too eager in sending the kids off to school, but in all reality, I'm all talk.

Sure, it will be nice to resume organization within the house.

Absolutely, I'm looking forward to finally getting some semblance of a scrapbook for each one of my four children.

There's no doubt that I will enjoy a bit of peace and tranquility within the walls of my home while the children are away at school.

But it is certainly bittersweet. It's something like eating a whole box of devil's food cake, chocolate Enterman's donuts and then realizing that each one cost you 360 calories. Yah, that's the best comparison!

I'm thrilled that my children will be attending a wonderful school and filling their brains with all sorts of valuable information, but it's the realization that my babies are growing up, that causes an unconsolable pang in my stomach that I'm sure will never go away.

Screamin' Demons

I'd be willing to bet my life on the fact that the screams and shrieks of my trio could be heard from the first floor to the fifth floor in the medical suites that we visited today. It would be safe to bet that the bystanders believed that my children were being tortured... something like having their fingernails pulled out forcefully.
Although I would not agree that they were being tortured, I'm sure they would contest. It was vaccination-update-day, in preparation for the beginning of kindergarten in the fall.
Worst of all, it was meet-the-new-doctor-and-nurses-day, as we have changed pediatricians, effective March 1. Although I was completely impressed by the office staff and pediatricians, I'm pretty sure they were not impressed with us!

It happened as sort of a snowball effect. Before the nurse even got her whole body into the exam room, Bella had begun to whimper. Within seconds of seeing the dreaded needle tray, her whimpers turned to shrill shrieks. Moments later, Angel joined the chorus. And not to be left out, Isaac added his lungs into the mix.

The nurse looked at me, puzzled, as if to say, "How on earth am I going to get these three needles into skin that is moving about so erratically?"

Thinking on her toes, she escorted the two children not being poked, along with their baby sister, out the door to choose a sticker. Immediately, the noise level in the room lessened by two-thirds.

We dragged terrified, defiant children in and out of the exam room like dogs being dragged into a bathtub. The bigger they are getting, the more difficult it is getting to hold them down. Needless to say, in just 4 short minutes, I burned more calories than I did in my morning walk!

I felt all eyes on me as I walked my tear-stained-faced children through the office. I think I heard the faint sound of applause as the door closed behind me!

As was promised, to ease a bit of pain, the kids all got treated to a happy meal and a chocolate shake, for as we all know, chocolate has a weird way of soothing the soul!

Four in One

It's a really good thing we sold our old house to upgrade to a home with more square footage after we found out that a baby number four would be joining our household. We wanted a home where we could spread out the children into more bedrooms.

In our current home, Angel and Bella have a very dainty bedroom with walls of pink and sage green.

Annie also has a very dainty room with walls of violet purple.

Tonight, they all share a very boyish bedroom with a wall covered in red paint, baring the name, "Isaac."

You see, a very generous friend passed down her son's bunk beds to my crew, and it is all the rage in our house right now. The poor booster seats are no longer the talk of the town!

Isaac can now host his three sisters in his room. Why he would want to, I have no idea, for as I plunk these words onto this screen, Angel is screaming hysterically for no reason at all. And now, Bella has followed suit. She is two feet away from him, whining miserably, still fully asleep.

I'm convinced that tomorrow night he will not be so fond of the idea of his not-so-good-sleeping-sisters sharing his 144 square feet of space. If he's as smart as I think he is, he will wait until he is old enough to have friends sleep over before he ever pulls that trundle out from under the bottom bunk again!