My Life--Defined

Interesting Education

2011-01-06T17:08:00.000-08:00

I'm always thrilled when my kids come home and tell me the new things that they're learning in school. Because we've put them into a school where they are also learning Spanish and Mandarin Chinese, the things they learn are amazing to me!

Besides the basics...reading, writing, and arithmetic...they're also learning languages that will help them converse with over 80% of the world.

The language they''ll need to converse with the other 20%, they're learning from their peers...
It was extremely difficult to keep a straight face when my son came out of left field with a new diddy that he'd learned, not from his teachers, but rather, his peers.

"I'll give you a nickel if you tickle my pickle."

This is from the same boy who has taught my son some other "mature in nature" information.

At that moment, I wished I had a delete button, to erase the information from his brain. I know that my child's central processing unit never crashes, and he will repeat the diddy again....and again....and again.

It's an interesting position to be in as a parent.

You try to teach your children to like everyone and accept them for who they are, while also explaining to them the ignorance of some of those same people.

I thought I had at least until junior high school to teach my crew about the birds and the bees. Seems I better start practicing my speech sooner!

Tooth Talk

2010-10-24T21:28:00.000-07:00

The tooth fairy knows the route to our house, by heart, I am sure. Having three children the same age means that developmental milestones are reached mostly simultaneously.

For the past two years, teeth have been falling out at a rate of about one every month. (That's about the same rate the hairs on my Mark's head turn gray!)

It's quickly enough to nearly break poor Toothfairys' bank!

Although the trail she took to our house was the same, the toothfairy visited a different room last night. It wasn't one of the big monsters who lost a tooth, but it was the littlest monster.

Annie lost her very first tooth.

Quite happily, and with many questions.

Her two bottom ~~tic tacs~~ teeth have been loose for the past 2 weeks. Yesterday, one tooth became considerably "looser." (Could very well be due to the fact that she scored 6 goals in her soccer game. Or maybe, not.)

While driving home from dinner last night, she expressed some serious concern about the "Tooth Losing Process."

A~ "I have to lose this tooth before I go to bed tonight!"

Me~ "Why do you have to do that?"

A~ "What if is starts to bleed in the middle of the night and I swallow the blood? Then that will make me a vampire!"

To save my youngest daughter from Vampiress, I helped her extract her tooth. Twelve inches of yellow thread later, and her tooth was in my hands.

Eager for a visit from the toothfairy, she hit the sack without question, tucking her tooth into her pillow. After numerous kisses and profession of love, my youngest daughter asked a question that none of her siblings have ever asked.

"Mom? Is there really a toothfairy? Or is it just moms and dads who take the tooth and leave the money?"

If believing in the toothfairy keeps her young and innocent, I will forever claim that the toothfairy is real!

It's Been a Loooooong Few Months

2010-10-08T16:22:00.000-07:00

It has been so incredibly long since I have updated my blog, I had trouble remembering how to get here.
And once I did get here, I notice that it's been so incredibly long, that the background I had through Cutest Blog on the Block, has since been removed. And since it's been so incredibly long since I put that background on here, I'm worried that I won't remember how to get a new one on! ~~A few~~ Seven months ago, I told myself that I wasn't going to update my blog until I made a Blog Book of all of the posts that I've already posted. Since I haven't even researched HOW to go about making a Blog Book, I decided I would get back to my emotional therapy of blogging.

Anyone who has been within earshot of me in the past few months, knows darn well that I am in serious need of some emotional therapy.

The need for therapy is probably due to, but not limited to:

School was out for the summer (and since my kids started a new school this year, they had an extra TWO WEEKS of summer break!)

We lugged the family to the East Coast for a Summer Family Vacation

On that Summer Family Vacation
I ate like I was going to the chair and I have yet to drop the 5+ pounds that I have gained

As Emeril would say it, My kids have kicked it up a notch in the Sibling Rivalry Department

We left our neighborhood school which I adored, to send our kids to a school in which they will learn Spanish and Mandarin Chinese

My littlest monster started kindergarten and will only be spoken to in

Espanol, and once a week in Mandarin

Did I mention that I'm a creature of habit and change changes me?

How crazy is it that I have the Baby Blues...maybe due to the fact that my littlest monster started kindergarten?My inconsistent babbling is just more proof that I'm in desperate need of emotional therapy!

To make a VERY looooooooong story short, I'm back.

And I plan to stay here!

It's much cheaper than weekly vists to a therapist!

Drama on the Mountain

2010-03-07T21:15:00.000-08:00

What's worse than driving up a mountain in the middle of a snow storm?
Driving up the mountain in the middle of a snow storm without chains, without 4-wheel drive, and without a pilot and co-pilot who have experience driving in a snow storm.

Did I mention that one side of the highway was no less than a 100 foot drop to the valley below?

I am aware that the snow storm I speak of has nothing on a snow storm on the East Coast, but for a native San Diegan, who sees sunny days ninety percent of the year, this snow storm was a blizzard!

It's a good thing I was born and raised on the West Coast, because today I learned that driving in the snow is NOT for me. After a fun time of making snowballs and throwing them at one another, it was time to head back down the mountain. We waited for a line of other cars to pass ahead so that we could follow in their tracks. After travelling a mile down the highway, we were stopped by a number of cars who were scattered about on each side of the road. They were warning drivers to pull over and wait because the road conditions were so bad.

I failed miserably at remaining calm for my kids, who clearly wore panic on their faces. I imagined our car, plummeting....100 feet....to the white covered valley...below.

Just as I was preparing what my final words to my family would be, Mark warned us of the car that was coming our way.Two seconds later, we felt the thump of the truck that was unable stop on the icy roads. It smacked right into the front of us, causing an eruption of even more panic!In my mind, we were going to be sitting on the side of the highway until the snow stopped. I was planning how I would keep my family warm over night.

I was worried because we had already eaten the bag of homemade brownies that my mom had brought along for a treat, and there were only 4 more packages of peanut butter crackers left in the box. That wouldn't even be enough to satisfy the appetite of our infamously hungry Papa Jim, who was along for the ride.

I imagined the warmth and safety of our beautiful home, and wanted to be there...BADLY.

While Mark got the driver's license number of the man who hit us, a Sheriff drove through, urging us all to make our way slowly down the mountain. He warned that conditions were only going to get worse.

The only thing that could be worse in my mind, was making our way slowly down the hill, WITHOUT brakes! How could it possibly be worse?

With tension high, we pulled in behind the Sheriff and crawled down the road, trying desperately to keep our tires in the tracks of those in front of us.

With the passing of each 15 feet, and the continued decent in elevation, I knew our chances of surviving this whole ordeal were getting greater. The roads began to clear and the snow fall began to cease. I could finally see my future again!

I've never been happier to be home in my entire life. I gladly opened the front door to the complete disarray that was left on our way out. I didn't care that I had 4 loads of ski-clothes laundry to do and 4 soaking wet children to bathe.

I'm just happy to be alive!!!

(Though my account of what happened today at the top of that mountain may sound extreme, my mom and step dad's account may differ!)

Daddy's Girls

2010-03-02T10:13:00.001-08:00

Had I not witnessed it with my own two eyes, I never would have believed it. I'm not talking about the picture of my girls huddling together, looking as if they REALLY love each other, although that is pretty unbelievable also.
They were merely trying to maintain their body heat, wearing spaghetti strap dresses outside in the 50 degree weather!

What was even more unbelievable was the sight of grown macho men, dressed to the hilt in their suits and tuxedos, dancing the YMCA and Hokey Pokee in the school auditorium with their precious daughters at the Father Daughter Dance-Hollywood Style. It was a sight I will never forget.
The proud look on each of those daddy's faces was an awesome sight. The proud look on my husband's face, watching and dancing with his three daughters, was priceless!

We all know how difficult it is to get men to agree to dress up and escort us somewhere fancy.

It's as difficult as uttering the words, "Chubby Bunny," with two large marshmallows crammed in your mouth.

But it didn't take any convincing at all to get this Daddy to agree to escort his girls to the school dance.And all four came home raving about how fun the evening was!

San Francisco Road Trip

2010-02-02T13:41:00.000-08:00

It's a new year and I'm already lagging on my blog updates!

I'm going to blame it on the fact that I am just recovering from an "out of whack back" that kept me from my computer chair. Seriously, the act of sitting was enough to put me in complete misery! And it all started on day one of our road trip to San Francisco. I must admit, it made for an interesting four days of sight-seeing through the city, but it didn't matter...the city looked no different from my hunched over position. We had a great time!

Even when we accidentally took the wrong Cable Car and had to walk a good 2 miles to get back to where we thought the Cable Car was taking us.

And even when we had to listen to Angel scream bloody murder when we repeatedly tortured her with numerous drives down Lombard Street, and any other viciously steep San Francisco street!And we even had a great time eventhough the husband and I made one of our worst decisions as parents.....
We took the kids to Alcatraz... and let me just say that we are still talking about it to this day. Of utmost concern is the location of the 3 prisoners that successfully escaped from the "inescapable" island and remain "unfound." Maybe I shouldn't have told the kids that those prisoners come to the homes of naughty children to keep them in check. Not really...that would have really been cause for panic!

What did cause great panic was when I threatened to stay behind to be voluntarily locked up in solitary confinement. Sounds heavenly! Doesn't it?I'm not sure if Alcatraz was more frightening for the kids, or Rainforest Cafe was. Yes, that's right....my kids almost crawled out of their skin when we ascended to the restaurant that was being rocked by a thunder storm that resembled Hurricane Katrina. It was all make-believe, of course, but I couldn't get them to believe me. I'm pretty sure they were already frightened by the realistic, life-size models of gorillas, elephants, and jaguars that threatened to devour them on all sides.

Just picture the scene...mom, hunched over at a 55 degree angle, ~~dragging~~ coaxing four wailing children up a dark staircase, all for an over-priced, not-so-tasty meal. Should have saved myself the grief, and the money!

If nothing else, they loved the hotel! The room was perfect and the indoor, heated pool was a luxury.

Almost as luxurious as the ice cream sundaes we indulged in at the Ghirardelli Ice Cream Shop.

Bon Voyage

2010-01-03T22:45:00.001-08:00

This morning I witnessed a conversation between Angel and Annie that was priceless.

In her infamous, whiny voice, Annie was expressing her distaste with the fact that we were going to go on a family road trip.

Because Angel is always trying to keep everyone happy, (mainly because I think she wants to keep ME happy), she tried to talk some sense into her little sister.

"Annie, don't you want to go to another country? Where they speak another language?"

Truth is....we're heading to San Francisco!

Pondering Christmas

2009-12-31T10:46:00.000-08:00

There are lots of things that parents don't get credit for throughout the lifetime of their children. This year I realized that most of this "discredit" happens during the holiday season.I worked my tail off this Christmas to buy presents that I thought my children, who already have EVERYTHING, would really enjoy.

I braved the malls when five million other people were doing the same thing.

I spent money on things that my kids didn't REALLY need. I wrapped for hours to make sure everything was hidden and discreet.I tucked all of the presents neatly under the Christmas tree in preparation for Christmas morning.
I stayed up late on Christmas Eve, waiting for my excited children to fall asleep so that I could fill their stockings to overflowing.And on Christmas morning, when my kids came running into my bedroom before the sun had even risen, to wake me up with shear excitement, who got all the credit for the overflowing stockings and numerous wrapped gifts under the tree?That chubby, white-haired hair man who goes by the name of Santa Claus.Have you ever thought about that? And have you ever given any thought to just how trusting children are?

This year we were given an "Elf on the Shelf." A little elf, which our family named Melvin, showed up one evening with a story book, to explain his job. He was sent to our home by the big man himself, to keep an eye on the behavior taking place within our house. Each night he would head back to the North Pole to report to Santa. The next morning, and every morning after, until Christmas Eve, he would be found in a different place, carrying out the same job.

It struck me as funny, that my kids never questioned how he got into our house. Or that they never gave it a second thought that, "Hey, maybe Mom and Dad are moving that little stuffed character around the house after we go to sleep at night."

I guess if they never question why Santa uses the exact same wrapping paper that Mom uses, they wouldn't question Melvin's existence!

And just one more Christmas item to ponder since we're on the subject. Have you ever given any thought to the fact that it takes 4 hours to wrap all of the presents and only 4 seconds to unwrap them?

Hope you all had a very Merry Christmas!

Rest up until next year!

The Aftermath of Christmas

2009-12-26T10:18:00.000-08:00

I am, undoubtedly, an early morning riser. I'm usually crawling out of bed before the morning sun peeks out from behind the mountains.

This morning was a little bit different. Although I was awake, I was putting off crawling out of bed because I knew what was awaiting me....

The Aftermath of Christmas!And now, I am planning a day trip away from home to further postpone the stress of it all! If only Santa could grant me my Christmas wish....That upon my return home, everything would be put in it's proper place, organized, and labeled!!!
I think it's better if I just never return home...

I know...I'm slacking...

2009-12-20T21:53:00.001-08:00

My friends keep giving me grief that I don't update my blog like I used to.

I know...I'm guilty as charged. I'm slacking off. I'm finding it more and more difficult to plant my bottom at the computer and write clever little stories about my clever little children.

It's because those clever little children are keeping me cleverly busy!

Or maybe I'm the one who over-schedules. I have been known to do that!

Since my last post I have...

Hosted a Thanksgiving breakfast for my family where each member had a name card with a list of reasons why we are thankful for them.

Transformed the teacher's lounge at my children's elementary school into a festive party-place for a holiday luncheon sponsored by the PTA. (Oh, and see those desserts? I made the ones on the top and bottoms plates!)Let go of some "mess-making anxiety" and hosted a gingerbread decorating play date at MY HOUSE!!!

Toted my kids to a Breakfast with Santa party at my dad's place of employment.

Dolled up my trio so they looked the snazziest at their first grade holiday music performance. (Oh...and did I mention....I decorated the background as a favor for the music teacher.)

I have given my children a taste of the performing arts with a trip to see The Grinch at the Old Globe Theater, all expense paid by Bank of America! We were even treated to a Grinch Buffet prior to the show at the American Institute of Fine Arts which is across the street. My children were surprised to see the Grinch walk into the room, but based on their numerous questions, I'm pretty sure they were more surprised by the endless number of art pieces that displayed human genitalia. You can imagine the comments and questions!

So I've been busy. I've not been sitting around, purposely neglecting my blog. No eating Bon Bons and watching Oprah for this girl.

And as I've said a million times before....I'll try to be better at updating!!!

Although...

My monsters have been released from learning duty for the next three weeks.... and they will be inheriting a disgusting amount of new things for Christmas, on top of the disgusting amount of things they just inherited from 8 nights of Hanukkah that will certainly need organizing... and T-ball season is just around the corner....and all three first graders want to try their hand at acting and join the after school drama program that begins the first of the year....and.....and...and...

Can you give me just a little slack??? Pleeeaaaassse?

Because Everybody Deserves a Lifetime....

2009-11-23T20:34:00.000-08:00

There are a lot of ways I could go with this blog post and I struggle with the decision on which way I should choose.

Shall I begin at the beginning and speak of the inspirational kick-start message that was given by the representatives of the Susan G. Komen organization?

Or should I start at the end and work backwards, because after walking 60 miles in 3 days, the word backwards describes me best?Do I post pictures of my already ugly feet that are now adorned with red, raw skin on almost every square inch around the perimeter, or do I spare you the visual? (Sorry folks, can't resist. The following photos may not be suitable for those with weak tummies!)Okay, so it's not THAT bad!

Do I share with you the details of some of the truly unbelievable life stories that I heard from my wonderful teammates, or do I spare the details to keep my friends?

Is it appropriate to post a picture of ladies sporting boobie costumes on my G-rated blog?Should I risk less sympathy and admit that the walk was quite enjoyable not only because of my team and the wonderful group of almost 4,000 other walkers, but because there isn't a more beautiful stretch of 60 miles than in beautiful sunny San Diego?

It doesn't matter which way I choose to start or finish this particular blog post. What matters most is that you realize the amazing inspiration that empowered me and will continue to empower me.

What matters most is that you realize that there are countless amazing women that have fought and are fighting the battle against breast cancer.

Their challenges don't compare to the challenges I faced in this walk, or to any of the other challenges that I have faced in life, for that matter.I was brought to tears over and over when I realized that this disease sees no age limit. I struggled even to look at the photographs of the women my age, with a family much like my own, who lost their battle with breast cancer. Ignorant as it may sound, to me, breast cancer never had the face of a young woman. I pictured it on someone who is older.I'm proud that I participated in an event that strives hard to help change lives.

I'm proud that I walked 60 miles in 3 days and lived to tell about it!

And most importantly, I'm truly amazed and inspired by the hundreds of breast cancer survivors that I shared the sidewalk with for the past 60 miles.

Worthless Worry

2009-11-10T21:16:00.001-08:00

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!

2009-11-10T20:54:00.001-08:00

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

2009-11-03T18:29:00.000-08:00

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

2009-10-31T15:51:00.001-07:00

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

2009-10-20T19:53:00.000-07:00

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!

2009-10-19T12:59:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-02T20:48:00.000-07:00

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!

Apples, And More Apples

2009-06-17T15:04:00.000-07:00

I agreed to picking apples at my dad's house last Friday after the kids got out of school.

I had no idea we would also be picking up "Road Apples!"

Mini Money Managers

2009-05-21T21:14:00.000-07:00

Mark is bound and determined to raise children as financially responsible as he is!

Which is why he toted the trio down to the bank last Saturday morning to open up their first bank accounts...besides their college funds.

Which is also why he insists that every penny they get lands directly into their Ziploc bag full of money.

Which is why Isaac came to me the other morning pleading with me to buy him some Trix yogurt. Which was interesting to me, seeing as Isaac's requests are usually for Bakugans or Legos.

And what is the relationship between yogurt and bank accounts you may be asking? It went something like this:

"Mom? Can you please buy me a package of Trix yogurt please?"

Because I was in the middle of getting myself ready for the day, I quickly appeased him and told him I would be happy to buy him some Trix yogurt next time I went to the store.

"Do you know why I want to buy Trix yogurt? They're giving away $10,000 and I want to try to win some money. Do you know what I would do with the money, Mom? I would give some to you and some to Daddy! Would you please buy TWO packages of Trix yogurt, please?"

After glancing up to see his genuinely sweet look, I wanted to rush out and buy him a whole case of Trix yogurt!

Questions to Soon

2009-05-06T12:44:00.000-07:00

Maybe I'm forgetting , because it was 29 years ago that I was a kindergartner. Or maybe I'm just being naive because it is my clan that I am talking about, but I don't recall questioning my parents about the things my children are questioning me about.

The other day, Angel began to inquire about all sorts of marital matters.

"Mom? Can two people live together even if they aren't married?"

I tried to explain that people do live with their significant others, but that it was not right in God's eyes.

And then she took it a step further.

"Well if they can't live together, can they still have babies?"

I was SO afraid that the next question was going to be, "Where do babies come from?" and I'm absolutely, positively sure, I am NOT ready to answer that question!

I'm not 100% sure where this is coming from, but I have my thoughts about who the child is.

And I'm pretty sure it's not the same child who taught my kids a new term for testicles when he happily wrote and illustrated in his journal yesterday, "The baseball hit me in the nuggets."

And I'm pretty sure when I was in kindergarten 29 years ago, that nuggets were the chicken pieces we ordered at the Mc Donald's drive-thru window!

What is this world coming to?

Since the last time I posted...

2009-04-25T21:07:00.000-07:00

Angel has whined and complained numerous times about putting on knee-high tube socks prior to numerous t-ball games!

Isaac has morphed into Indiana Jones.

Angel, Isaac, and Bella debuted in their kindergarten school play, "The Three Billy Goat's Gruff," as a butterfly, a bumble bee, and Fanny Goat.

Over 100 Easter eggs were collected containing enough candy to cost us over $1,500 at the pediatric dentist.

My ~~sassy, back-talking~~ sweet, little Annie celebrated her fourth birthday with a Teddy Bear party theme. (And at this party I confessed to all of the parents that when I found out I was pregnant with her, just ten months after giving birth to triplets, I ~~screamed in terror~~ wept internally at the thought of another little body to be responsible for.)

We took a small trip to Knott's Berry Farm and Palm Springs with some friends who will probably never ask us to travel ANYWHERE-TOGETHER-EVER-AGAIN with them after realizing the chaos that ensues when traveling with the Kamahi Clan!

The girls begged for make-up and curls and I gladly obliged!

Mark and I enjoyed an evening at The Old Spaghetti Factory downtown, sans children!

I escorted Angel, Isaac, and Annie to the movies to watch "Monsters vs. Aliens," and had a hard time dishing out the $48.00 it cost to sit in the theater for an hour and a half, UNTIL I saw my children sporting the super-cute glasses that brought the movie to life in 3-D! (Bella was left behind due to the fact that she was paying up for a consequence she earned after taking 3 swings at her father in a complete fit-of-rage!)

Needless to say, we've been BUSY!!!

No More Walmart

2009-03-11T10:01:00.000-07:00

Many people choose not to shop at Walmart for many different reasons.

They put the little guys out of business.

The quality of their products are inferior.

They skimp when it comes to paying their employees.

And the list goes on....

Prior to yesterday, I was an avid Walmart shopper. The greeter at the door of our local store welcomed me with a smile at least three times a week. I was happy to shop there, and they were happy to take in my cash. That was, prior to yesterday.

I didn't jump on the bandwagon to support the previously mentioned concerns.

No, my sweet, darling daughter, who competes with her oldest sister in holding the title of, "Gift for Gab," failed to keep her thoughts to herself, not once, but two times yesterday afternoon.

While perusing the hair accessory isle, we were passed by an employee who was in a wheelchair. I knew the comments were coming when I observed Annie ~~blatantly staring~~ closely observing the employee. And then, the dialogue began, in Annie's ~~obnoxiously loud~~ clearly audible voice.

"Mom. He's in a wheelchair."

"Yes he is, Annie. Some people have to use wheelchairs to get around."

"Mom. He has to be in a wheelchair. I think that he's broken."

With a smirk and a shush, I whisked her away, paid for my goods, and headed to Taco Bell, where Annie added insult to injury.

Because the Taco Bell is adjacent to the Walmart, many of the Walmart employees dine there for lunch. On this particular day, one of the mechanics from the Tire Lube and Express chose to, "Think Outside the Bun." directly across from where Annie and I were doing the same thing.

This mechanic from the Tire Lube and Express was born with female anatomy, but for an almost four year old, her outward appearance proved otherwise. The shaved head and masculine posture made it clear to Annie that this person was indeed a "boy." I'm not sure why I chose to argue the point with her, but I did, continuously rebuttaled by Annie's ~~obnoxiously loud~~ clearly audible voice.

"Mom. Even Walmart workers eat at Taco Bell. Like that boy sitting right there." (pointing definitively at the woman sitting across from us.)

"Annie, that's not a boy. It is a girl."

Thinking I must certainly be confused about who she is referring to, she points her finger a bit firmer and raises her voice just a wee bit louder. "No Mom. That BOY sitting RIGHT THERE!"

"It's not a boy, Annie, it's a girl."

"No mom. That boy who works at Walmart is a BOY!"

I had to remind myself that I am an adult, and there was really no reason to prove to her that the boy was indeed a girl.

I'm convinced that the greeter at the door of the local Walmart will no longer greet me with a smile. I imagine him with a snap shot photo of my daughter with strick instructions to keep her away.

A Gift for Gab

2009-03-09T16:04:00.000-07:00

I have no problem admitting that I have a gift for gab! I love to talk to people... my friends, my neighbors, or perfect strangers who are willing to engage in conversation with me. More than one of my friends, on more than one occasion, has teased me that I could make conversation with a wall. Give me five minutes with another individual, and I will know everything about them--I'm not afraid to ask questions! It seems that I have passed this gift on to one of my children.

My dear Angel treats school as a social hour, or social hours, plural. She enjoys very much, talking to her classmates. So much so, that she has been relocated to many different locations in her classroom. I've walked into her classroom numerous times, only to find that the spot she sat in the day before is not the same spot she will sit in today!

Like her mother, she does not discriminate who she will talk to. Baby, peer, adult, boy, girl, animal....they're all fair game to her.

Because I can fully relate to her need for gab, it's hard to come down hard on her for it. Maybe I should just cancel her Spanish class and piano lessons and enroll her in an etiquette class?

Sand Has New Meaning

2009-02-17T19:15:00.001-08:00

It wasn't an easy decision for me to convert the kids' extra large sand box into, well, a sandbox.

When we had the yard landscaped, we had a pretty large corner of the yard made into a play area for the kids. At the time, I was not able to approve sand in the sandbox, rather I chose to fill the area with hard pieces of bark, because by golly, bark would be less likely to find it's way into pockets, cuffs of pants, or in between the millions of strands of hair on each of my children's head.

When the bark began to age and splinter and find it's way under finger nails and skin, I mustered up the courage to put sand where it had always belonged. As expected, since that fateful day when we emptied fifty plus bags of playground sand into the area, I have been sweeping it off the porch, sweeping it out of the house, and washing it out of crevices in the body that I will not describe in detail.

So when a family from the kids' school suggested a family trip to the desert, I was less than thrilled to entertain the idea. If sixty cubic feet of sand in my backyard makes me as anxious as a caterpillar feels in a schoolyard full of children, what would miles and miles of sand make me feel like? Probably more like that same caterpillar under the lens of a microscope on a ~~hot~~, scorching, sunny day!

None-the-less, I committed my family to the President's-Weekend-Family-Desert-Trip. We had a trailer delivered to the spot we called home for three nights, and roughly four days. Although the trailer was delivered more than 8 hours late, and the cleanliness of it resembled that of a bachelor pad that housed 4 grown men, it was a warm place to rest our heads after a long day in the sand and sun. It was no job my two canisters of Lysol Anti-Bacterial Wipes couldn't handle!

I went into the weekend with absolutely no unreasonable expectations, which is why being out of my "comfort zone," was more than manageable, as proven in the following ways:

My heart rate didn't increase one bit when one hour before arrival time, on the side of the highway just east of El Centro, the light on the dashboard reported a flat tire on the front, passenger side. I was just happy that Mark was the one standing outside changing it while being pelted with wind that was probably nearly 40 degrees.

For four weeks prior to the trip I was told that we would only have 35 gallons of water at our disposal. Thirty five gallons of water for four days to wash up dishes for a family of six, wash 12 hands an indefinite number of times, wash six faces at least once in the morning and once before bed, etc, etc. I was relieved when I was informed that 35 gallons was in fact 50 gallons.

I was completely at ease with the fact that my kids spent more time this past weekend laying in the dirt than they did standing in it.

I did not blink an eye when my kids chose to eat red licorice and Blow-Pops for breakfast instead of cereal and bananas. Nor did I blink when their dinner consisted of good 'ol camfire smores!

I didn't cringe at the fact that my girls never once wore a hair bow while we were there!

I was fine with the fact that they didn't once hit the sack at their usual time of 7:30 pm. The fun was still going until at least 9:30 or 10:00 pm!

It was my impression, by the number of times that I was asked, "Are you having a good time?" that no one expected me to enjoy myself. With the company that I was in, my water tank could have held zero gallons, and I would have been A-okay!

My family got to make lasting memories with great friends, that would have never been made had we not agreed to this trip. Sand will forever have new meaning for me! Bring it on!

My Hunny Bunny

2009-02-04T10:30:00.000-08:00

I guess I'm not the only one who thinks my little boy is the cutest boy around! Apparently he has some admirers in his class as well!

The other evening, while chit chatting with my girls about when their next play date with their girlfriends will be, Isaac piped in with a look of concern.

"Mom, please don't ever let Kylie Jo come to our house to play!"

Being that Isaac is friendly with everyone in his class, I questioned his request.

"Why don't you want Kylie Jo to come to our house to play?"

"Because, Mom. Today she told me I was her Hunny Bunny."

I could do nothing more than grab him in my arms and squeeze him tight and think of a nice way to let Kylie Jo know that she was wrong....

He will ALWAYS be MY Hunny Bunny!

Parenting 101

2009-01-09T08:53:00.000-08:00

Since I already spilled my guts in my previous entry about my nagging guilt, I figure I must proceed.

It is a common occurrence that I get extremely unwarranted compliments on my mothering skills.

For instance, at my niece's birthday party a couple of months ago, a friend of my sister-in-law informed me that I am, "such an easy-going mom."

"You are so calm and relaxed for having triplets plus one." She explained that her sister in Mexico City has triplets and she is always stressed out and panicked about things.

Because I believe that telling the truth is always the best policy, and because my all-knowing mother and step-father heard the compliment, I swallowed hard a few times and then came clean.

I admitted that I am very good at keeping a calm front and that I have nearly perfected the art of making others believe that I have it all under control at ALL times!

If only this sweet woman with the kind compliment could have seen the incident that took place in a very busy restaurant just a short month ago, she would surely retract her words!

In typical Annie fashion, she woke from a short slumber with a chip on her shoulder. Maybe it was due to the discomfort of sleeping in a clothing store shopping cart, or maybe it was because the line to check-out was a miserable 20 minutes long due to last minute Christmas shoppers. None-the-less, she carried a chip!

Because a bean and cheese burrito with sour cream sounded like the perfect cure-all, we pulled into a local mexican restaurant for lunch. After placing our order, Annie informed me through her still falling tears, that she wanted fruit punch to drink instead of the water I ordered for her.

The whole room began to close in on me as the altercation escalated and her voice became raised. I could hear burritos, tostadas, and enchiladas falling to their plates as the other patrons of the restaurant watched to see how I was going to handle this noisy situation.

Because I have taken enough child development classes to know proper techniques for dealing with children, I got down on my knees so that I could speak with her at her level. Through clenched teeth housed inside a beat red face, I informed her that if she didn't stop her ranting immediately, I would take her outside and swat her bottom and sit her in the car until she was quiet!

When she wouldn't conform, the many strategies I'd learned in child development classes immediately left my repetoire! With fingers ~~gently~~ firmly placed around her sweet little neck, I escorted her outside and swatted her bottom as I had promised.

Little did I know that a professor of child development would cross my path while I was laying down the law.

You see, a construction worker who had the same hankering for Mexican food that afternoon happened to walk out the door as my hand met Annie's butt. He proceeded to walk the 10 yards to the corner of the parking lot where his work truck was parked. I'm pretty sure he was putting some space between himself and me, before he decided to butt into my situation.

Before closing his door after sitting down inside, he shouted across to me, "Hey lady! You could use some parenting classes."

With my blood pressure already elevated to a level that was surely capable of causing a heart attack, I turned my wrath on him.

"Excuuuuse me?"

"You could really use some parenting classes. She's just a child."

And as if I really cared about his humble opinion, I questioned, "So what? You think I should have left her inside that crowded restaurant and let her ruin everyone's quiet meal with her screaming?"

"I don't care, but you never hit a child."

My generally non-confrontational personality went on vacation as quickly as my child development strategies did just a few minutes earlier, and I yelled back at ~~one hundred~~ a few octaves higher, "I never asked for your opinion. It's none of your business how I discipline my children. Why don't you get in your car and get out of here!"

And as if he was trying to prove himself the "Master of Parenting," he informed me that he had three children at home. Did that mean he had three children he never spanked? Or three children he never raised his voice to? Or three children that he parented perfectly for however many years they had been on this planet? I had no idea.

"Big wow," I replied. "I have four."

Rubbing salt in the wound, he came back with, "Well, you sure don't do a very good job!"

I'm pretty sure the anger on my face caused him to run for safety. It was for his own good that he got in his car and drove away because I was just about to unleash my wrath on him. His would not be a swift swat on the butt, rather it would have been a closed-knuckle fist straight to his face.

All of this over a little girl named Annie, who woke up grumpy, in typical Annie fashion!

Just a minute....

2009-01-08T20:46:00.001-08:00

I would love to be able to say that my lack of posts is due to the fact that I have been letting other things go in order to make more time to play with my kids. That is not exactly the case and it is the source of much guilt for me.

I am the queen of...

"Wait just a minute."

"I'll be with you when I am done doing this."
"Give me two seconds."

"I have to get this done first."

All of these referring to things such as:

Folding laundry.

Putting laundry away.

Organizing a pantry.
Organizing a linen closet.
Organizing a playroom.

All things that are already probably overly organized for a normal person, but not well enough organized for me. All things that are much less important than playing with my kids.

Does it really matter that all the labels on the canned goods are facing out?

Or that all the pants are buttoned before throwing them into the laundry basket?

Is it really necessary that the toys be cleaned up the moment the kids are done playing with them?

Or that the floor under their eating table be swept up the moment they walk away from a meal?

I know that all of these things are COMPLETELY unnecessary, but my brain cannot wrap around the concept.

I am the queen of "Sweating the small stuff," and I can't figure out how to fix the problem.

Especially when I am suffering from PMS!

Why do I care about all of these things? I really couldn't tell you.

It's just part of my genetic make-up. Me in a disorganized house is like a fish out of water. I flop about trying to survive when I'm in the midst of disarray.

And then, as if everyone knows I am struggling with this issue, I get an email like this to thump me on the head:

A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year old son waiting for him at the door.

SON: 'Daddy, may I ask you a question?'

DAD: 'Yeah sure, what it is?' replied the man.

SON: 'Daddy, how much do you make an hour?'

DAD: 'That's none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?' the man said angrily.

SON: 'I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?'

DAD: 'If you must know, I make $50 an hour.'

SON: 'Oh,' the little boy replied, with his head down. 'Daddy, may I please borrow $25?'

The father was furious, 'If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I don't work hard everyday for such childish frivolity.'

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money? After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down , and started to think: Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $25.00 and he really didn't ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door.

'Are you asleep, son?' He asked.

'No daddy, I'm awake,' replied the boy.

'I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier' said the man. 'It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the $25 you asked for.'

The little boy sat straight up, smiling.

'Oh, thank you daddy!' he yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills. The man saw that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father.

'Why do you want more money if you already have some?' the father grumbled.

'Because I didn't have enough, but now I do,' the little boy replied. 'Daddy, I have $50 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.'

The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little son, and he begged for his forgiveness.

And just the other day my Isaac asked me to put a deck of cards into the box for him and I automatically replied while folding a shirt out of the drier, "Sure, Isaac. Set it right there and I'll do it in a second."

Twenty minutes later he returned to the laundry room to retrieve his boxed cards, only to find them still scattered about. He scouted me out to ask me, "Mom? Do you ever really listen to what I say? I asked you nicely to help me put my cards away and you didn't do it."

Guilty. I'm guilty as charged by my 5 year old son. And by my 5 year old daughters and my 3 1/2 year old daughter. Guilty!

But tomorrow is a new day and this is a new year.

I plan to spend more time in 0-9, letting the small stuff go, and truly enjoying the blessings that have been entrusted to me!

I'm working and telling the laundry, the floors, the bedrooms, this whole house,

"Wait just minute."

"I'll be with you when I'm done playing with my kids."

"Give me 5 minutes."

"I have to enjoy my kids first!"

Minutes turn to hours, hours to days, and days to years. It is all time that can never be replayed and I'm going to work diligently on cherishing every-single-moment!

Creative Compliment

2008-12-15T12:54:00.000-08:00

I'm still chuckling about the compliment my sweet daughter Angel paid me yesterday!

Standing at the sink doing dishes, she came up to me, and in the most sincere voice said, "Mom, you are so beautiful!"

While trying to express my thanks, she continued...

"You are even more beautiful than a pig!"

After giggling out a thank-you to her, she questioned the humor.

"What's so funny Mom? I didn't say you were AS beautiful AS a pig...I said you were MORE beautiful than a pig!"

My husband would have received a swift kick in the pants for this compliment, but my sweet Angel, she got a great big bear hug!!!

My Sensitive Gentleman

2008-11-25T20:41:00.000-08:00

So today I was informed by a few women that I indeed, had a "sensitive gentleman" as my husband.

He brings me flowers out of the blue, you may be thinking.

He turns off the television in order to listen carefully and intently when I pour my heart out about what is bothering me, you may be thinking.

He suggests that I get out without children in order to recharge my batteries, you may be thinking.

He wakes up early to get the kids ready for school when I am ~~blinded by an ocular migraine~~ feeling under the weather, you may be thinking.

Or you may be thinking that he pops a load of laundry into the washing machine when he notices that the darks are tumbling from the laundry basket.

Your thinking is all wrong.

The women who informed me that I am married to a sensitive gentleman, were the sweet nurses that were taking care of my husband today at the surgical center where he had a hernia repaired.

The sensitivity that they were referring to was his sensitivity to anything relating to medical procedures. Little did they know, I was already aware of the fact that I hand-picked a sensitive gentleman.

I wasn't at all surprised to be summoned from the waiting room by the pre-op nurse, requesting that I help to calm my sensitive gentleman.

It wasn't anything I didn't expect, walking in to find him drained of any color and soaked with sweat from head to toe. Like oil and water, my sensitive gentleman and IV's, or any needles for that matter, simply do not mix.

Nor does he do well with just the thought of what the doctor is going to do to him...that's enough to erase the pigment from his skin and make him weak in the knees, as well.

I am truly married to a SENSITIVE GENTLEMAN!

One that I overheard explaining to his children the other day that his stomach was going to be stapled closed. (He has a one inch incision sealed together with Dermabond. Insert clip art of a cardboard induced paper cut and you get his wound.)

One that lay in bed behind closed doors, fifteen feet away from me, when my cell phone began ringing downstairs. By the time I got to it, it was done ringing, flashing a RESTRICTED NUMBER message. Upon returning to the computer, my phone began ringing again. Running just a bit faster down the stairs, risking life and limb, I got to it in time. If I didn't just get this cell phone, I would have chucked it out the kitchen window, for the voice on the other end was the voice of my sensitive gentleman, a mere fifteen feet away from where I had originally been sitting, requesting that I open the bedroom door to let the cat out! And because I know I would never find an alternate husband willing to take on my four children and myself, I refrained from throwing him out the second story window as well.

Before I head to bed to rest up for tomorrow's recovery and rehabilitation procedures, I'm going to google the relationship between hernia repair and decision-making. Seems there is some correlation...my sensitive gentleman has needed me to make every decision on what he should be putting in his stomach!

So we've got the whole sensitivity thing a bit mixed up and I tease him relentlessly about it...but my sensitive gentleman produces good-looking kids! I'll give him that!

You Can be Pretty Sure...

2008-11-06T12:25:00.000-08:00

that a child was born into a Republican household when you can hear the following inquiries and comments.

While playing with his toys the other day, Isaac paused and questioned me after great thought, "Mom? Are flaming liberals the worst kind?"

I responded, "I don't know Isaac. Why do you ask?"

His reply. "Because Daddy said they were!"

And even before all of the recent political conversations buzzing about, Isaac brought out one of his flame shaped Lego pieces and cheerfully exclaimed, "Look Mom. I have found a flaming liberal!"

And the questions have been flooding in since the election of Barack Obama. While driving to school yesterday morning, Isaac had a concerned look on his face. I could tell he was contemplating an issue. Just as a I was about to ask him what it was he was thinking about, he questioned, "Mom? Is Obama going to steal money from us, too?"

And as if she was disgusted by the question, Annie replied, "No, Isaac! He doesn't even know where we live!"

It's nearly impossible to explain politics to a child!

But you can be pretty sure that a child is being raised in a household with parents who hold the traditional positions within the home when you hear a child exclaim the following:

Upon finishing his dinner, my husband rinsed his dish before putting it down in the sink. (Which even that task is unheard of, even after making that request for the past 10+ years!)

Angel happened to walk by and see Mark doing this. She fell under a spell of shock and commented, "Mom!!! Daddy is doing the dishes!!! I have NEVER seen a boy doing dishes before!!!"

I guess you could call my children Conservative, Republican, Un-Liberated Little Kids! And that's a title I'm completely at peace with!

Ten Things I Know...

2008-10-29T15:38:00.000-07:00

TO BE TRUE ABOUT YOU

Annie

1. Your conception was more unbelievable than people claiming Elvis is still alive.

2. It seems that you believe your umbilical chord is still attached--you never stray further than arms distance away from me.

3. I'm pretty sure I've caught glimpses of wings on your back--You're my social butterfly who says, "Hi," to anyone you think may engage in conversation with you.

4. You've been given more freedom to roam your surroundings than your counterparts were ever given at your age.

5. You believe preschool is good enough for others, but you should be spared.

6. You have no need for your own bedroom--you prefer to room with me.

7. It has not yet occurred to you that you were not in utero at the same time as your siblings.

8. There are ~~many~~ times that I tune you out for the mere fact that you NEVER.STOP.TALKING unless you are asleep.

9. The rear view mirror in the car is cocked downward more than it is upward because you tell the best stories while driving and I love to watch your facial expressions.

10. You border on narcoleptic-finding no difficulty in drifting off to dreamland anywhere and everywhere!

You are my

Annie

And I love you so, so much!

Ten Things I know...

2008-10-17T13:05:00.000-07:00

TO BE TRUE ABOUT YOU

Bella

1. You thrive on irritating others.

2. You've inherited your father's competitive spirit.

3. You succeed at everything you set out to do because you don't settle for less than perfect.4. Many would recognize you from the backside--the girl whose coin slot infamously hangs out just above her pants.5. Your quiet, reserved personality leads many to believe you are my shy girl--boy, is that wrong!

6. You would trade all your Barbie Dolls for art supplies if given the opportunity.

7. I can count on my 2 hands how many times you've slept through the night since we brought you home from the hospital.

8. Although you are far off from a "girlie-girl," you humor me and sit so still, allowing me to fiddle with your hair and play hairdresser.

9. You have amazing stamina when it comes to throwing temper tantrums. They've been known to last an hour or more!
10. You're Ms. In-Control-asserting unwelcomed authority over your siblings-usually resulting in an argument.

You are my Bella

And I love you up to the sky!

Ten Things I Know...

2008-10-16T20:42:00.001-07:00

TO BE TRUE ABOUT YOU

Isaac

1. Your sweet nature is as refreshing as an ice cold glass of lemonade on a hot summer's day.

2. You could turn a pile of recyclables into some sort of creature if given 15 minutes alone with a recycling bin. 3. Something as simple as writing the number "1" could easily frustrate you.
4. It warms the cockles of your little heart to scare the daylights out of unsuspecting victims when you roar or growl gregariously.
5. At 5 years old, you've already perfected "the Look" that brings girls to their knees--at least it works for this girl!
6. A pile of colorful Legos could entertain you for an hour as long as you also have the direction booklet.
7. Just as quickly as you reach your boiling point, you cool off again.
8. You're a big fan of sleep-overs, offering yourself up as a house guest, regardless if you've received an invitation!
9. You are just as enthralled the 20th time you watch a Scooby Do episode as the first time you watched it.
10. You're Mr. Independent, feeling free to wander off in any direction you choose without requesting permission.

You're my Isaac-

And I love you to the moon and back!

Ten Things I Know...

2008-10-15T20:26:00.000-07:00

TO BE TRUE ABOUT YOU

Angel

1. Your screams have the capability to shatter glass.
2. You are as protective as a new mommy of your brother and sisters.

3. I could dump you in the middle of 50 strangers, and within 5 minutes they'd be your lifelong friends.

4. You're eager to please.

5. Your ability to rationalize touchy situations is an ability we work on on a minute-by-minute basis.
6. Your ability to impress the boys, on the other hand, would lead one to believe that you've been "playing the field" for many years. 7. You could care less if the formation of your letters are correct or if your crayon marks stray outside the lines.
8. You give me daily glimpses into your teenage years when you spin around on one foot, flip your hair over your shoulder, and huff off, angry at a consequence I've handed out.

9. Just looking into those big, brown eyes that appear between blinks, is enough to relieve the stress you cause me!
10. You are generous with your professions of love for me and with your compliments on my mothering.

You are my Angel--

And I love you as BIG as the universe!

A Dilema of My Own

2008-10-13T19:24:00.000-07:00

(Disclaimer--This post contains a politcal undertone that may be offensive to some parties. It is not my intent to upset or offend...just have fun!)

I never dreamed that I would live through a time when our country was experienceing such major dilemna's.

The stock market dropping by the hundreds on a daily basis.

A possible future president that has minimal experience and a value system as stinky as a half-empty milk sippy cup that has been misplaced under a bed for 2 weeks.

A large sector of the American people who want to bring down the family value system like a building being detonated from below.

Houses lost to repossession at a rate comparable to the wing-flutter-per-second of a hummingbird.

And the list goes on and on.

And while all of these dilemma's are happening in the world, I, too, am facing a dilemma of my own.

Not nearly as frightening as the dilemma that our country and its' inhabitants are experiencing, but a dilemma none-the-less.

You see, I am receiving love notes by the hundreds! I have some admirers that are quick to express their love in writing.

Don't fret. The dilemna is not that my husband is not aware. He is the recipient of an equal amount of love notes.

My dilemna is this...What on earth am I supposed to DO with all of these love notes?

Have you ever tried to throw something away with the words, "I love you" staring back at you, written across the paper in your child's 5-year-old handwriting? If you haven't, let me be the first to tell you, IT'S A DILEMNA.

"What an uncaring, cold individual you are, throwing away your children's love notes," is what you may be thinking at this moment in time. And I can identify with your concern, but please hear me out, mathematically speaking.

My husband and I happily receive at least 5 notes a day per child. Mutliply that by 2, since there are 2 of us, and you get 10 notes per day. Then multiply that by 4, because we have 4 children and you get 40 love notes in a day.

It doesn't sound ALL that bad until you multiply that by 365 days in a year and you get 14,600 love notes in a year. Now that my friends is substantial.

For more reasons than one.

Environmentalists would most likely tell you that our family should be putting forth more of an effort to perserve our forests, by cutting down on the love notes circulating our family. They would probably suggest a white board, or something along those lines. (Who am I kidding. They would probably be bothered that the fumes from the pens are permeating our ozone layer, thus destroying it.)

I'm actually really not that concerned with what the environmentalists are thinking. The Type-A in me is much more concerned about how to file and save the above mentioned love notes.

Do I file them alphabetically under each child's name?

Do I file them in a file under, "Love Notes?"

Do I buy a 456th plastic bin and print out a computer label with the words, "Love Notes from Kids," and a clip art of a little piece of paper that I downloaded from the internet?

Are you relating yet to my dilemna?

If I only I could get the main line to the inexperienced presidential candidate who seems to have an answer for everything. I'm sure he could come up with a solution to my dilemna.

And if he couldn't find the solution, I'm sure he could find someone to blame for my problem!

They're Much Too Young

2008-10-09T19:52:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure it shouldn't be happening until at least junior high school. My just barely five year olds are much too young to be engaging in such conversation.

I must push the pause button...awareness and dialogue about the opposite sex is happening much to quickly in the Kamahi family! Especially for my Angel.
I'm convinced that she wakes up each morning much more excited about seeing the boys in her class than learning her ABC's. She concerns herself with her clothes and her hair, not to be stylish or comfortable, but rather to impress her boys. On more than one occasion, she has informed me that, "Mom, Joe (name changed for anonymity) is really going to love my outfit today. I think he'll like my hair, too!"

Just last week, after asking her what she learned in school that day, she replied straight-faced, "Mom...new report. Joe is not my boyfriend anymore, John is! There is nothing you can do about it." Those were the exact words that spilled from her mouth.

And what I wanted to do was wipe up those spilled words, wring them out over the sink, and turn on the garbage disposal. She's much to young to be having such thoughts! Even I wasn't that boy crazy when I was a child. For goodness sake, I was a one-boy-girl. At five years old in kindergarten, my heart belonged to Jeremy Buegey and only Jeremy Buegey. Why can't Angel choose one and stick with him? (IF she's gonna pick someone at all!)

Bella's complete lack of interest in the opposite sex is more proof that Angel stole all the hormones! Running around, playing, and instigating anyone who is willing to be instigated is much more up Bella's alley. She's even perfected the instigation of Angel's relationships by deliberately and precisely, pushing Angel in front of the boys that make her ga-ga!
While Isaac is all boy and prefers to be rough-housing somewhere with other boys, he still makes time to ogle at a girl. The same girl he has had eye's for since preschool--Little Miss Kathy. (name also changed for anonymity) On more than one occasion, I have heard the tune float up from the back seat of the car.
"Two little love birds, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the baby in the baby carriage."

He knows not what he is singing, for the word he spells would surely cause him to blush if he pronounced it.

I'm still holding out hope that because there are three the same age, they will keep each other in check. If they continue to tell-all at the rate they tell-all now, I will know every little detail in each of their lives...~~down to the time and consistency of their bowel movements!~~

Oops, I Did it Again!

2008-10-01T12:54:00.000-07:00

It was going to be small this year. Ten kids at the most, fifteen if I was feeling ambitious! I said that after last years party if you'll remember back a year.

I don't know how it happens. Each year the party gets bigger rather than smaller.

I always realize this after it's too late.

I started to realize it was growing by leaps and bounds after recruiting my mom and sister-in-law to help decorate 35 clown ice cream cones.

Or was it after making and sending out 35 invitations!
I knew for sure it had grown when the guests started arriving, quickly filling every square inch of my backyard!

And when the passage-way through the back patio required a detour due to the large amount of birthday gifts, I knew the party had grown!!!

And when the living room began to look like this,

I nearly hyperventhilated!

I didn't have nearly enough bins to house all of the gifts. And some of the gifts were so large, a bin wouldn't be sufficient!

The gift stress wasn't even close to the stress that the Taco Man put me through! The man who was going to feed my guests and arrive at my house at 3:30 pm so my guests could start eating at 4:30pm...yah...that Taco Man....well he arrived over an hour late! Which delayed eating time from 4:30pm to after 5:15pm.

Does he not know that doing that to a mother who is plagued with a Type-A, In Control personality ranks right up there with having your fingernails removed one-by-one with a pair of pliers?

Oh yah...That's exactly how badly it hurt!

It was nothing that our Guest of Honor couldn't fix. Penelope the Clown came in and saved the day. Like a Night in Shining Armor trotting in on his horse, she swooped in in her mini-van and delighted the children with her magnificent face painting! The kids could have cared less that their tummies were growling!!!

Chaos, clutter, and confusion didn't hold anyone back from having a good time! Even I was still smiling at the end! A bit exhausted, but still smiling!

It's a really great thing that this whole birthday thing only happens once a year. It gives me a whole 365 days to recoup and decide to do it again the following year!

Career Change

2008-09-25T21:30:00.001-07:00

It was 5 years ago today that I accepted the new position.

No application.

No resume.

No interview.

No experience necessary.

I was handed the job without any questions asked.

I've held the position longer than I have any other job.

Longer than my 4 1/2 year long waitressing job at the burger joint that paid my way through college.

Longer than my teaching career that lasted less than 3 years!

There are days when I dream of retiring! Days when I would love to do nothing more than walk in the door, hand in my resignation letter, and walk out the same door to a quieter, more peaceful place...

...Like a deserted island!

A deserted island free of organized sports.A deserted island free of class parties.

A deserted island free of science experiments.A deserted island free of three 5 year old monsters and an even BIGGER 3 year old monster!
But when I applied for this job a little over 5 years ago, I knew there would NEVER be a retirement offered.

No 401k

No paid vacations.

And even worse, no days off!

But five years ago today, on September 25, 2003,at 1:24 pm, 1:25 pm, and 1:26 pm I gladly accepted the best job ever!

Though all of the monetary aspects of this job seem dismal, the emotional perks are out of this world.

I wouldn't trade my job as "Mom," to Angel, Isaac, Bella, or Annie for anything in this world.

Happy Birthday Angel, Isaac, & Bella!

I sure love you!

"Dear God...

2008-09-11T22:46:00.000-07:00

Please help Mommy to be happy tomorrow."

That was the prayer that Annie prayed just before dozing off to dreamland.

And Isaac's prayer? His was right along those same lines.

"Dear God, Please help Mommy to not yell."

I hate to admit it, but I had one of those evenings. Or was it afternoon? Or has it been one of those weeks?

I sincerely thought that the kids going back to school was going to solve all of our problems. I pictured picking up three mentally and physically exhausted children from school each day. Children who would be ready to come home, have a snack, rest awhile, do some homework, eat dinner, bathe, read a bedtime story, and then, hit the pillow.

Boy was I wrong.

It is my assumption that my children are well-behaved at school, mind their manners, and even act as if they love each other in the classroom.

It is the only logical assumption. It is the only reason that would explain why they are ready to let it all out upon arrival to our car parked just 100 yards away in the school parking lot. They've spent six hours putting on this show and they can't handle it any longer when that bell rings.

I'm telling you, my kids go to war the minute we climb into the car. They fight about who is sitting in which seat. They fight about how long it is taking each one to get buckled in. You name it--they will fight about it!

And the fighting only continues at home. And my temper only shortens, hence the prayers of my darling children!

If their prayers aren't answered quick, they're going to have to visit Mommy in the insane asylum!

Blurred Vision

2008-08-29T16:28:00.000-07:00

My vision this past week has been far from 20/20. As I look back, all I see is a cloud of dust where we once were. My driveway has had so much come-and-go traffic in the past four days, I can faintly see tire tread marks in the cement. And all the tire tread marks can be traced back to my very own vehicle.

All of this, due to the fact that my children started school on Monday.These are the things I know for sure:

*School starts sharply at 7:55 am.

*We must leave our house promptly at 7:20 am to snatch a parking space in order to walk the kids to class.

*Their class is held in the northern most classroom on the school property.

*School is excused at 1:55 pm.

*I must leave my house promptly at 1:15 to snatch a parking space in order to pick the kids up.

Other than those facts....it's all a blur!

I'm still trying to figure out how my kids can come home from school with more energy than the Tazmanian Devil after a triple shot of espresso, while I need the mother of all naps.

I'M EXHAUSTED!!!

And I thought this whole going to school things was going to free up my days and give me the time I needed for myself. I'm about as tired as I was almost five years ago when I had three infants drinking bottles around the clock!

I'm sure in time I will grow accustomed to the routine of getting the kids to school and picking them back up, but until then, I'm the one who's begging for the afternoon nap!

Is it almost summer yet? NOT!!!

A New Chapter Begins

2008-08-24T22:04:00.000-07:00

Dear Angel, Isaac, and Bella,

Tonight I put the three of you to bed with a sense of sadness, yet excitement for you, as tomorrow you will begin a new chapter in your lives. You, my three sweet babies, my pride and joy, will embark on a new adventure...kindergarten!

Although I have dreamed of this very day, some peace and solitude in my very own home, I am choking back tears as I imagine how life is going to change, not only for you, but for me as well.

For you see, you will always be my babies, and I will forever feel the need to shelter and protect you.

How on earth will I make sure you wash your hands before you eat?

And who is going to make sure you finish all of your lunch before heading off to play?

More importantly, how am I going to make sure that you are being treated fairly by those around you?

Five years can't possibly have been enough time to teach you all that you need to know before heading off to school. In fact, I can't believe that it has even been nearly five years since I have been blessed with each of you!

Although I know you are more than ready to begin this chapter, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that you will succeed beyond my wildest dreams, I'm having a hard time letting you go!

Who is going to dump every single dinosaur and transformer out on the floor and then baulk when it is time to clean them all up?

When will you possibly have time to antagonize one another, until someone throws up their arms in a fit of rage?

What famished children will I dish snacks out to all day?

Angel, Isaac, and Bella...I love you more than words could ever express! I'm looking forward to this turn of a page into the next chapter of our lives where we can make even more wonderful memories.

And no matter what....you will ALWAYS be my babies!

With cuddles and kisses,

Your Mommy

xoxox

Things we loved...

2008-08-22T22:22:00.000-07:00

...about New York:

The great food.

The fact you could drive 15 minutes into New Jersey and buy cheaper gas...AND by law an attendant has to pump it for you!!!

Dunkin' Donuts.

The fact that you could paint your house purple, and it fit in perfectly!The beautifully, green, lush "thru-ways."

Dunkin' Donuts.

The architecture of the homes...especially the wrap around porches!

Almost every public bathroom was equipped with automatic water faucets, automatic hand soap dispensers, & automatic paper towel dispensers. I almost felt compelled to let my girls go it alone in the bathroom. If only they had automatic opening doors so they didn't have to touch the door handles!

Dunkin' Donuts.

The fact that all four of my kids could ride on a carousel for $2.00, while in California EACH kid pays $2.00 to ride on a carousel!

Visiting with family and friends! And again, Dunkin' Donuts. To be perfectly honest, I did not partake in Dunkin' Donuts, but they are my husband's favorite, and because of that, my kids have become fans as well. They pointed out each and every Dunkin' Donut shop. And let me tell you, they are everywhere!

Number one reason we were glad to return home:

Not one of those fancy, automatic public restrooms offered @**-gaskets for protecting the fanny from toilet seat germs! Big no-no!!!

That was enough for me to throw in the towel and ask for help!!!

Some thoughts about the airport...

2008-08-13T16:57:00.001-07:00

Whoever came up with the 50 pound weight limit for each piece of check-in luggage--I'd love to wring your neck!!!

You were the cause of much embarrassment for me!

It was nearly as embarrassing as that time I sent the brightly wrapped tampon flying from the depths of my purse while rummaging for my car keys. Most embarrassing was the fact that I was in the midst of hundreds of college students who were storming the pedestrian bridge, in a hurry to vacate school for things more entertaining. While they were storming, they were kicking the tampon from one side of the walkway to the other.

How lucky for me that the suitcase that weighed 9 pounds over the 50 pound limit was the suitcase with mostly my clothes in it.

And how lucky for me that my darling husband happened to place my extra-padded-strapless-water-bra smack-dab on top of the packed suitcase.

So when the airline employee asked us to rearrange our luggage to evenly distribute the weight, my strapless bra was catapulted from the scale to the floor ans back behind the counter.

And how lucky was I that my dear father-in-law was the one fumbling and rebounding my unmentionables?

It probably crossed his mind that had I been wearing my extra-padded-strapless-water-bra I could have saved myself much embarrassment, for clearly it weighed nearly 9 pounds!

* * *

And if that wasn't a scene enough, I continued my show upstairs.

Irate that the grumpy airline employee wouldn't pre-board passengers with young children, onto a flight already 2 hours delayed, my assertive husband and his equally assertive parents, began to demand justice. The show my children put on previously for our fellow weary, waiting passengers had nothing on this. With a line 200 yards long, the employee explained for the umteenth time that we must move aside, as it wasn't yet our turn. And as if to add insult to injury, we didn't have our paper tickets.

Blame was placed on the sweet employee who checked us in-and inadvertently handled my flying bra. She must have mistakenly kept our paper tickets. The scene played round and round like a skipping movie on a DVD player.

We were SURE--we were not in possession of the paper tickets.

And then, as if a voice from above told me to reach into my purse, I wrapped my fingers around-PAPER TICKETS---all 8 of them!

I considered keeping a secret, but I wasn't willing to be the cause of any further commotion or delay. By the looks I got, I was sure that there was never a moment where my husband wanted to disown me more that he did at that moment!

All Tuckered Out

2008-08-05T19:18:00.000-07:00

Apparently, New York is tuckering us out! Two nights in a row, kids ran out of steam at the restaurant dinner table. (That may be because dinner is taking place around 9:00 pm each night!)Not too surprising, Annie caught up on some shut-eye at the Saratoga Race track, while hundreds of bettors cheered on their horses.And as Mark put it, in the bedroom where the kids are resting their heads for the nights, it looks like someone grabbed a handful of children and tossed them into the room. They have made use of every square inch of the room!
We'll be ready for a vacation to rest from our vacation!!! I'm EXHAUSTED too!

Crayola Crayon Factory

2008-07-30T08:48:00.000-07:00

The motto for the Crayola Crayon Factory in Easton, Pennsylvania should go something like this:

"Bring your kids to the Crayola Crayon Factory where a person becomes the pallette."

Or maybe...

"Come on down to the Crayola Crayon Factory where your kids can become the canvas!"

My kids emerged from that place covered in head to toe with markers, paint, and melted crayon wax. And worst of all, I'm not traveling with my stain removal paraphernalia!

They did have a great time. They watched a presentation on how crayons and magic markers are made, and they got to write on a plexi-glass wall with markers. They loved the finger painting room, and most of all the area with Model Magic.

Besides the messy factor, we had a great day. Five days later, I'm still trying to figure out how to remove the wax that is splattered on some favorite clothes! I'm going to have to wait until I get home, because the Crayola website says that WD-40 is needed to rectify the situation!

New York City

2008-07-29T20:57:00.001-07:00

I don't know what I was even thinking when I was considering taking my four rugrats on a day trip into New York City. We thought it would be fun for them to see and feel the excitement of big city life.

Boy am I relieved that our "Big-City-Educated" family members talked us out of that crazy idea! It would have rated up there in stress level as a trip to the dentist for a root canal....or a spot on a favorite outfit that cannot be removed with OxyMagic and Spray-N-Wash with Resolve Power!

It didn't take much coercion to convince us that a day in the city without children was a much more reasonable plan.

We made use of more public transportation in seven hours than we have in both of our lifetimes combined.

Train. Subway. Ferry. Train again.

And we saw more people commuting on foot than we have ever seen anywhere else. The whole time we were pushing our way through the hustle and bustle of people, I thanked God that we listened to sound advice and left the kids a home.

After arriving at Grand Central Station, we walked north to Central Park. I partook in a relaxing snooze on the grass, surrounded by green trees, a running river, and a sea of people!

A bit recharged, we proceeded to Rockefeller Center, Times Square, and a Disney Store large enough to make Mickey Mouse himself intimidated!

After visiting the Empire State Building and deciding that $19.50 was too high a price to pay for a short-lived view, we took the subway to the World Trade Center and solemnly stood before Ground Zero, amazed at the hole that has been left in the skyline of New York City. Personal stories are posted on walls around the area and bronze memorials of fallen officers are displayed for all to see. I felt a deep sense of sadness for those who witnessed first-hand, the awful events of 9-11.

Although my feet are as sore as if they have been stomped on by elephants, all of the walking was worth it. Not only for seeing the sights, but to work off the mammoth-sized buffalo chicken sandwich that I ate for lunch at a local restaurant!

Maybe in a few more years we'll return with kids in tow. Until then, they'll have to get their New York City culture from the television waves that bring us the Today Show!!!

Tranquil Travel

2008-07-28T19:43:00.000-07:00

I am truly amazed at the ease with which we maneuvered through the airport the other day, as we began our much anticipated family trip to New York. I fully expected to look like something out of one of the National Lampoon Family Vacation movies. I dreaded the thought of having to remove eight pair of shoes, as well as mine, while being herded through a metal detector like a family of cows, but even that task was accomplished without incident!

Even the fact that for a little over five hours, eight of us shared a space of about 16 square feet directly in front of the rear lavatory on the plane, did not faze us a bit. We colored many pictures, crawled under plane seats to hunt for Legos, and climbed over plane seats to share time equally with each family member.

And this is the first event ticket that we’ve bought for Annie that we didn’t feel so bad about her sleeping through. It was actually welcomed!

To say that our schedule has been off kilter is a complete understatement. Our heads have not hit the pillow before 1:00 am once since we have been here. There is much too much to see in New York.

After a seven hour drive, that would have probably been less than six if we hadn’t been travelling with four children and caravanning with a Uhaul truck, we arrived in Buffalo, New York. The highway scenery was painted a deep green, from the rolling meadows, to the tall, full trees. Adding a splash of color were the blue, rolling rivers that flowed between the greenery. The foliage in New York makes it clear that there is an abundance of water around.

And the water of Niagra Falls is the most impressive scenery we’ve seen so far. The amount of water that drops over the falls to reach its destination over 230 feet below is a sight to behold. The sheer power was breathtaking.

After a boat ride on the Maid of the Mist, and a hike through the Cave of the winds, we were drenched from head to toe. It was welcomed wetness, as wearing plastic bags on a humid day can generate a lot of body heat.

Although it pales in comparison to the entertainment of the Falls, we did have some exciting entertainment at our dinner at the TGI Friday’s in Buffalo. A couple sat down at a table arms length away from us, and ordered their drinks. Within minutes of receiving their drink order, the argument broke out. We are unclear of what the argument was over, but we are clear of the fact that the woman was a good aim. She hurled her stiff drink at her man and landed it smack dab in his face, while shouting a few expletives that I wish not to repeat. She stormed out of the restaurant immediately after throwing the few straggling ice cubes in his directions. Before long, four sheriff cars pulled into the parking lot to break up the fight that had continued outside. It was quite exciting, to say the least! I only I had reacted fast enough to snap pictures of it!

Happy Anniversary

2008-07-17T14:10:00.001-07:00

It doesn't seem possible that today, my husband and I are celebrating our 9 year anniversary. Boy, oh, boy, has life changed since that first time we met, almost 17 years ago. His grey hair and the wrinkles around my eyes are evidence of that!

But we would never trade in the stress and work that it takes to raise a family, as it is equally marked by love and laughter! I've seen the words hanging on plaques in many stores and I always think of our own family when I read them.

All because two people fell in love.

Happy Anniversary, Mark! I love you!

Busy Little Bees

2008-07-10T21:34:00.000-07:00

I haven't failed to post because I lack activities to share about. On the contrary, rather, I haven't sat down long enough to upload photos to my computer, then upload photos to photobucket, then write something worth reading about each!

So now that I have done all of the above, here are some photos of how I have kept the kids busy as a way to maintain the cleanliness of our home! The more hours we spend out and about, the more hours my house stays tidy!!!

Swimming...

More swimming...

The Swimming Avoider...

Playing around at out local YMCA Water Park...

Making use of our public transportation system by riding the trolley to a local ice cream shop where we got a tour and then ate some of the yummiest ice cream we've ever tasted.

Played games and posed for pictures while waiting for the fireworks display...

Getting baby fixes...

Posing for pictures...

Oh boy...please tell me..is it August 25th NOW????

Our Own Natural Habitat

2008-06-30T22:26:00.000-07:00

School has been out for a little over two weeks now, and I've wished for a swimming pool in our backyard each of the days in those weeks.

I've played it over in my head how wonderful it would be if we could convert our pond into a pool and our waterfall into a water slide. Seems easy enough to me. The hole has already been started and groundwork has already been laid. There must be a contractor willing to do the job.

Then, we have an evening like the one we had tonight, and I'm grateful for our pond. While sitting out on the patio eating dinner, Bella noticed a little visitor. Hopping from his home at the pond, a little frog made his presence known. While returning him to his waterfront home, we noticed a beautiful, red dragonfly fluttering around the water irises. The kids and I were mesmerized, and we marveled at his beauty. (And I realized it is equally difficult to get a decent picture of a dragonfly as it is to get a decent picture of my four kids together!)See what I mean!!!

Before heading back up to the house, we investigated the millions of bees that drink from pond.

And we tucked in Daddy and Mommy frog that live in an irrigation box near the back door.

I guess we'll continue to use the swimming pool at Grandma and Abuelito's house. We'd hate to dislodge so many fun creatures living in our very own natural habitat!

Recent Resignation

2008-06-22T20:40:00.000-07:00

I should probably be embarrassed by the fact that the following three products have completely transformed my life, but actually, I feel liberated!

I have recently resigned from my position as Stain Police, and I no longer hover over my children when they are eating or playing with something possibly staining in nature. My kids are more than welcome to eat chocolate in their nice clothes and I even dressed them in my favorite dresses to eat pizza on Mother's Day! Did I mention that I even send nice clothes in their suitcase when they spend the night at their Ma's house?

Truly, I am a changed woman!

All because of a bottle of Spray-N-Wash with Resolve Power.

A box of Oxy Magic.

A simple plastic tub.

And any one of the seventy-five toothbrushes that we've accumulated in the past 4 1/2 years!

I can get almost any stain out....and I feel like a new woman!!!

School's Out For The Summer!

2008-06-17T21:36:00.000-07:00

In an attempt to pass the two, loooooong summer months in which the kids do not have school, I have tried to pack in lots of activities. Now, I'm not quite sure that it truly passes time any quicker, but it does keep the mess from happening in the house! And you know how important that one fact is for a Type-A sickie such as myself!

This past weekend we had great fun spending time at a local KOA in a motor home with my mom and step-dad. Although sleeping space was a wee-bit tight, by the second night, Mark and I were perfectly content sleeping curled up like pretzels between two flailing churros.

There were many fun activities to participate in during the day. Besides a nice-sized swimming pool with plenty of shallow playing area, we...

Rode scooters.

Built with Legos.

Pedaled an 8-seater bike, and realized within seconds that 30 minutes was sufficient enough. One hour would have killed us!

Tie-died large t-shirts for sleeping in. (I was afraid that if I allowed them make them in their size, they would ask to wear them out one day. And I wouldn't know where to begin to match a hair bow with tie-die!)

Played an endless number of tic-tac-toe games.

Spent quality time with one another.

Took time out to pose for the camera.

Watched some fellow campers play a game of basketball.

Lent helping hands by pulling up the breeches of a sister in desperate need of a pair of suspenders!

And most painstakingly, got dirtier than we have in quite a long time without bathing soon afterwards!

Did I mention that the girls went a whole three days without a single bow in their hair?

It must be August already??!!?? Does school start tomorrow?

Bow Abundance

2008-06-12T08:45:00.000-07:00

Whoever designed the standard bathroom door to measure 6 feet 7 inches by 2 feet 3 1/2 inches, most definitely did not have three daughters living in the house. At least not three daughters who have a matching bow for every outfit.

If they did, they certainly would have realized that there needed to be more surface area for neatly organizing hair bows.

The fact of the matter is, I have not enough room for my three girls' hair accessories.

Where shall I hang these?

Or these?

Or even these?

I either need to contact a contractor about increasing the size of my bathroom door, or research the possibility of a recovery program for hair bow addiction.

I'm thinking the latter is most logical!

Just A Blink

2008-06-06T22:02:00.000-07:00

Did you know that the average human blinks once every 2 to 10 seconds?

And it only takes about 300-400 milliseconds to get from the beginning of the blink to the end.

Why then does it seem like days pass in the midst of each blink? It seems like the past 5 years have passed in just a handful of blinks.

It seems like just yesterday that I was flat on my back on bed rest, pregnant with triplets.

It seems like just yesterday I was frantically trying to figure out how on earth I was going to get out of the house with three babies in tow.It seems like just yesterday I was preparing formula by the pitcher's full and preparing bottles by the dozen.

It seems like just yesterday I was changing diapers in an assembly line fashion, emptying diaper pails hourly.

It seems like just yesterday that I tucked three, 10 month old babies into bed, before heading to Target to buy a pregnancy test that I was sure would show a plus sign, even though it had cost a fortune to conceive the first three.

It seems like just yesterday that I picked up the phone to my parents, and through streams of tears, asked them if they were sitting down.

It seems like just yesterday that I was firmly exclaiming, "No this is not funny! I'm just getting the hang of having three babies in this house. There is no way we can add another!"

It seems like just yesterday that I was waking up each morning, wishing it was bedtime, because there was no way I could take care of three toddlers when I needed to be hugging the toilet numerous times a day.

It seems like just yesterday, I walked tearfully through our front door with baby number four, wondering how on earth I was going to cope with four children under two-years-old. And then, I blinked a few times....and here I am.

Three of my babies are starting kindergarten in the fall, and the fourth will continue in preschool.
It never ceases to amaze me that even with weeks full of days that feel more than 24 hours in length, the years still pass in a blink.

All Boy

2008-06-04T10:20:00.001-07:00

It doesn't matter that he wore purple princess dress-up shoes to the dinner table last night. Nor that he came tip-toeing out of the playroom with his sisters pink tutu on yesterday. My Isaac is all boy!

Yesterday I took him to have a CAT scan done on his head. He gets more headaches than I am comfortable with him getting, so I took him to see his pediatrician. The pediatrician is suggesting that he is experiencing juvenile migraines, (passed down by me, his mother!) but wants to rule out other possibilities.

Isaac was even braver than his own father yesterday, while the nurse administered an IV. Only one large crocodile tear escaped from his right eye, and then he was done. Maybe a little grumpy, but no obnoxious crying.

With his head strapped to the table, he sat completely still as the huge machine roared and moved. Only his eyes blinked.

He was so proud of himself for staying so strong, but he refused to express it until we were in the privacy of our own car.

I hugged him and told him how proud I was of him for being so cooperative. He smiled smugly and made his reply.

"Mom, I was so still the whole time. You couldn't even see my hands. They were so still, too. And do you know what? I had a booger the whole time and didn't even pick it!"

That's my brave boy!!!

Just Out of Curiousity Moms...

2008-05-28T20:12:00.000-07:00

When is the last time…….

YOU took a bath in your sunken tub, instead of your kids? You got into your car and your music was blaring instead of your kids’?
You ate your entire meal without having to stop and give seconds, pour more milk, or clean up spilled milk?

You watched the morning news instead of Zaboomafoo or Curious George?
You climbed into bed only ONCE before your alarm clock beckoned you in the morning?
Your tape dispenser, stapler, or pens were in the same place you left them the last time you used them?

You sat down and watched a television program without being body-slammed by one, two, three, or four or more children?

You had a telephone conversation without shooing children away or whisper-screaming that you’ll be done in just a second?

Your house stayed clean for more than 20 minutes after the housekeeper has left?
You took an uninterrupted shower while your children were awake?
You went a whole day without being summoned more than five-hundred-sixty-five times?

You ate every bite of your bite-sized chocolate chip cookie?
You were told, “I love you” as many times as you were summoned that same day?
You looked into someone’s eyes and felt such unconditional love?
You were given a sloppy, wet kiss and loved every minute of it?
You were told that you were the best mom, even when you felt like such a failure?

Just out of curiosity…

I’d love to hear your, “When is the last time…”

The Tooth Fairy Returns

2008-05-28T19:54:00.000-07:00

As if I didn't have enough experiences on my resume, I've had to add Tooth Fairy?

It is official...Angel's delivery of any word beginning with the letter "S" is temporarily slurred by the loss of both front teeth.

Last night at dinner, she lost the second wobbly tooth, and she is now the proud owner of a window in her mouth!

She does not discriminate who she shares this information with.

Waiters

Waitresses

Fellow shoppers

Fellow restaurant patrons

Friends at school

Strangers at school

Strangers anywhere for that matter!

She's very proud of this new loss!

And I'm thankful that I'll get lots of practice playing tooth fairy, because I'm not very good at it! I don't have the gentle touch for removing the tooth and replacing it with money. I nearly hit the ground last night when I tried to make a speedy escape after I caused Angel to stir!

By the time all the baby teeth in this house have fallen out, I'll be a pro!

A First Fairy Visit

2008-05-26T21:27:00.000-07:00

Saturday night was the first of many visits to our home by the tooth fairy. Our "early to do everything" little Angel, has been wiggling her two bottom front teeth for the past week now, and sometime between when she went to bed on Friday night, and when she woke again on Saturday morning, one of them made its' escape.

If one was to look in our windows on Saturday morning, they would have definitely questioned the behavior. We combed through sheets, pillows, carpet, and anything else that was laying around, trying to find the missing tooth. Truly it was like looking for a tic-tac in the midst of a small hurricane!

Because we were unsuccessful in finding the tooth, Angel wrote a letter to the tooth fairy instead.

It read:

"Dear Tooth Fairy, I lost my first tooth. Love, Angel"

She tucked it neatly beneath her pillow and dozed off to dreamland.

Bright and early Sunday morning, she discovered that the tooth fairy had made a visit. A crisp two-dollar bill replaced the letter, and she could not have been more pleased!

It will only be days until we are visited again. Loose tooth number two is only holding on by a thread!

I've Got Claws...

2008-05-13T22:33:00.001-07:00

After 4 1/2 years as a mother, I finally experienced that, "Protective Mom anger" with another adult. My claws came out, and if I weren't too busy wiping the sweat from my brow and calming a sobbing child, those claws may have made contact with a grumpy old man face!

This evening I took my crew to sign them up for soccer. Angel, Isaac, and Bella are going to try to follow in their daddy's cleats, and join an organized team. The sign-ups were held in an elementary school classroom with a few musical instruments sitting on the floor below the blackboard.

I had seen some children playing nicely with the instruments earlier, so I didn't think twice about it when Angel and Isaac began to gently play with them also. Within minutes, a man swooped in and YELLED at my children.

"Get out of there! You can't be touching those things. This IS NOT OUR CLASSROOM!"

I was appalled by his actions toward my children. If one didn't know better, by his reaction, one would have thought that my children were beating each other over the head with the instruments.

Mortified, all four of my kids gathered by my side. Seconds later, Angel belted out with screams of extreme embarrassment. In public situations, my kids are generally very well-behaved, and have never been treated in this manner by another adult.

The man with whom I was speaking to before this incident took place, tried to assure me that everything was okay. In my mind, it was far from okay. I informed him that there was absolutely no reason for this man to be so rude to my kids. I then turned to the man directly and informed him that there was no reason to be so rude. For Pete's sake...I'm trying to involve my already reluctant child to be involved in recreational sports, and this man goes and behaves this way.

I questioned the personnel that were in the vicinity to be sure that this man was not a coach. I let them know that if he was, I would not be signing the check allowing my kids to join this club.

While he moseyed around pointing out what had happened, I tried to reconcile the situation in my head. It was not the fact that he reprimanded my children, rather, it was the manner in which he reprimanded. A simple, "Hey kids! This isn't our classroom so could you please leave the things alone?" would have been a much more appropriate redirection.

I've had to tell myself all night that it wasn't directly aimed at my kids. Any other kid that would have been playing there would have been subjected to his crass outburst.

If nothing else, I learned that there is an assertive bone in my body!

Look what I am protecting...

The Sneaky One

2008-05-07T12:56:00.001-07:00

Even her brother and sisters have labeled her, "The Sneaky One," and they could not have got it more right! Yesterday Annie and Angel were playing swim school together, pulling every cotton-pickin' bathing suit out of the drawers. I informed them that this must stop, because I am not a fan of doing laundry, nor a fan of folding itty-bitty, teeny-weeny bikinis into perfect little bundles and returning them to their rightful place.

As if I would not hear her as she was standing just inches from my chair, she very sneakily tried to convince her older sister that, indeed, they could still play the game.

"Come on Angel. We can go in my room behind the bed and Mom won't even see us!"

Had I not been right there to talk some sense into them, Annie may have very well coerced her big sister into disobeying her mother!

Little Sneak!!!

Then this morning, while I was packing their lunch with yummy dried apples, I shooed them away from the snack like sea gulls, informing them that they could eat them with their lunch at school.

I have no idea how it happened, but somewhere between dowsing their waffles with maple syrup, and cutting them into one-inch square bite-sized pieces, 2 pieces of apples out of one of the bags mysteriously disappeared. I never even left the kitchen! I had only occupied an area of about 2 square feet, and the bags of apples shared that same space.

I looked over at my four little ~~monsters~~ angels, quietly consuming their breakfast and inquired, "Who on earth stole the apples?"

Without a second thought, Bella retorted, "The Sneaky One took the apples."

Giggles erupted from the belly that consumed the missing apples and she couldn't have been more proud of her accomplishment!

Oh doctor, I think I'm in trouble!

Never Say "Never"

2008-05-01T21:49:00.000-07:00

The last time I boasted, "I've never....." I ended up with the most painful cold sore on my upper lip. That's what I get for bragging to my friend who had frequent cold sore outbreaks.

I swore that I would never again make that statement.

And then I did.

This past weekend.

Not once.

But twice.

At Bella's t-ball game last Saturday, I was boasting to the grandma of one of Bella's teammates, that none of my children have ever cut their hair. Oh, I was so proud to state that my children are avid scissor users but they are much more interested in cutting paper into 500 little pieces than chopping away at their hair.
NEVER.....Say "never!"

The other day while my back was turned to my little artists, one decided it was time to do the unthinkable. My most feisty, risk-taker, large-and-in-charge, YOUNGEST CHILD, set scissors to hair and closed the handles.

Have you ever tried to keep a straight face when all the muscles in your face are willing you to do otherwise?

I caved....I laughed....I couldn't contain myself when Annie looked at me and declared, "I wanted that part of my hair shorter, Mom!" She lopped her little pony-tail right off.

The good news is, her hair is so ~~disastrous~~ fine and uneven anyways, one would never notice that it is 3 inches shorter on the top of her head.

And by this time I should have already learned my lesson.

A few weeks prior, I was boasting about the fact that Angel rarely gets sick when the others do.

Oh yah....

In the past month and a half Angel has been struck with an ear infection, followed by a urinary tract infection due to the antibiotic from the ear infection, another ear infection, the flu, followed a week and a half later by another flu bug!

I'll NEVER, say "NEVER" again!!!

I'm Not the Only One

2008-04-26T20:59:00.000-07:00

And all this time I thought I was the only one who noticed!

Today while I was playing sergeant, naming all the items that needed to be put away before we could have game night, Bella picked up a couple pairs of her shoes and then exclaimed,

"Hey Mom! I'm just like Daddy!"

After giving her a questioning stare she continued.

"I've left shoes laying all around the house!"

Even though it was out of the mouth of a four year old, it validated all of the feelings I've had about tripping over the various pairs of shoes that Mark leaves around the house.

Protective Brother

2008-04-15T22:31:00.000-07:00

He's already proven that he's chivalrous. Remember....he even burps without saying, "Excuse me!"

Well, he came to the rescue yet again. The other morning I heard shrill screams coming from the back patio. The girls had come face to face with a spider.

After investigating the situation, he returned with helmet and sword to declare, "Don't worry! I am the Spider Warrior."

I'm not quite convinced that he was brave enough to come within 2 feet of the thing, but the screams were replaced by giggles and we continued about our business!

And then they do...

2008-04-07T12:27:00.000-07:00

It's the day I've been thinking about for quite awhile now.

The day where I could go on my morning jog without pushing the annoying jogger stroller that continuously veers to the right.

The day I could do a load of laundry without having to kick one kid after another out of the laundry room and remind them not to hang on the washing machine door.

The day I could shower in complete silence without having to answer to my name being called 101 times.

The day I could run into store after store and actually get all the things on my list without having to give an uncountable number of reminders to, "Stay close...Watch out for others...Please put the toys back on the shelf....No, we are not going to the bathroom. I just asked if you had to go before we left the house.....No, we are not buying anything this time...and so on and so forth.

The day is here. Last night I packed four lunch boxes instead of just three. I put four kids in play clothes instead of just three, because today, April 7, 2008, my baby, Annie, started preschool.

Mark and I have been discussing for days how traumatic it was going to be for her. She has been attached at my hip since she has been born, wanting to be with me whenever possible. Although she really wants to be like her brother and sisters and spend the night places, she always changes her mind and ends up staying with me in the end.

Little did I know, I would be the one shedding tears upon leaving the classroom. She was perfectly content to find a place at the table and paint a paper plate with her sisters. Not on tear was shed by her eyes, but from mine, they were flowing.

I left the classroom feeling completely alone. There was no one beckoning to me, "Up-ee!" There was no one to buckle into the carseat. There was no one shooting questions at me at a rate of a million per minute. I was even able to listen to "big kid music" on the radio without any complaints from the back seat.

All I could think of were the lyrics to Trace Adkins song, "And then they do."

In the early rush of morning,

Trying to get the kids to school:

One's hanging on my shirt-tail,

Another's locked up in her room.

And I'm yelling up the stairs:

"Stop worrying 'bout your hair, you look fine."

Then they're fightin' in the backseat,

And I'm playing referee.

Now someone's gotta go,

The moment that we leave.

And everybody's late,

I swear that I can't wait till they grow up.

Then they do, and that's how it is.

It's just quiet in the mornin',

Can't believe how much you miss,

All they do and all they did.

You want all the dreams they dreamed of to come true:

Then they do.

Now the youngest is starting college,

She'll be leavin' in the Fall.

And Brianna's latest boyfriend,

Called to ask if we could talk.

And I got the impression,

That he's about to pop the question any day.

I look over at their pictures,

Sittin' in their frames.

I see them as babies:

I guess that'll never change.

You pray all their lives,

That someday they will find happiness.

Then they do, and that's how it is.

It's just quiet in the mornin',

Can't believe how much you miss,

All they do and all they did.

You want all the dreams they dreamed of to come true:

Then they do.

No more Monday PTA's,

No carpools, or soccer games.

Your work is done.

Now you've got time that's all your own.

You've been waitin' for so long,

For those days to come.

Then they do, and that's how it is.

It's just quiet in the mornin',

Can't believe how much you miss,

All they do and all they did.

You want all the dreams they dreamed of to come true:

Then they do.

Ah, then they do.

http://new.music.yahoo.com/videos/--2157313

The Difference Between Girls and Boys....

2008-03-30T21:22:00.000-07:00

Girls are fond of wearing curlers...

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

Ever wondered...Part Two

2008-03-28T19:46:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-28T09:59:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-22T21:36:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-03-13T20:22:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-12T16:12:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-07T12:56:00.000-08:00

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

2008-03-06T20:19:00.001-08:00

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

2008-03-01T21:01:00.000-08:00

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!

Beaming Booster Users

2008-02-27T16:10:00.000-08:00

My kids are just as excited by our new ride, as I am, but for a much different reason.

They had no trouble swallowing that they were "Mini-Van Children." Nor did they ever know that I was unable to swallow being a "Mini-Van Mom." (Not that I believe there is anything at all wrong with driving a mini-van. I'm the one who insisted we get one in the first place after Annie came along, but I just didn't feel like myself when I drove it.)

No, they could care less about the fact that it has nice, black, leather interior. They aren't impressed by the huge amount of cargo space that hangs behind their very seats. It doesn't matter to them that I can now open the door without putting the key into the lock.

They are most excited by the fact that we finally let them get into booster seats. And not one person, friend or stranger, has crossed their path, that hasn't been informed of this very fact.

They've informed:

Every teller at the bank we visited yesterday.

All of the dental hygentists, plus the dentist at their teeth cleaning appointment yesterday.

All of the parents of the patients that were waiting for their dental exam.

Their teachers at school....more than once...probably more than 10 times!

Each of the parents that walked through the door to pick up their preschooler.

A fire chief that pulled up next to our gas pump yesterday, to fill his own tank.

As I said, if the person crossed one of my childrens' paths within the last 4 days, they are aware of the fact that they now ride in booster seats!

And it was the cutest event ever, to watch four children sit in the isle of the store, to agree upon which booster seat to buy. The final vote was three girls against one boy.

He's a Keeper

2008-02-25T19:55:00.000-08:00

I wouldn’t have wanted to spend my birthday any other way; with my family and friends all gathered together, eating at one of my favorite restaurants. It was even better than eating a Baskin Robbin’s three-scoop sundae. And when I thought it couldn’t get any better, Mark placed a squirt of whip cream and a cherry on top. It came in a very classy, slate blue hue, has four monstrous wheels, and it will easily camouflage the accidents that happen with four small children because of it’s black leather interior! You guessed it…my wish to escape the dreaded mini-van finally came true. For my birthday, Mark surprised me with a beautiful, new Suburban. Not only the gift was unbelievable, but the manner in which he presented it, is certainly worthy of mention!

Wishing to throw me off, and knowing his son well enough to know that he can’t keep a secret, Mark told Isaac that he bought me jewelry. As to be expected, within the hour, Isaac relayed the information to me!

I was a bit suspicious, knowing that with the blowing of my last gift surprise, Mark vowed that he would never again let the kids know what my gifts are before I, myself, knew what they were!

Nevertheless, I fully expected jewelry. Heck, I had just informed him that there was a ring at the jewelry counter at Costco with a hefty sale price of $41,000. I’ve always been a dreamer!

After opening all of my wonderful gifts from friends and family, Mark informed me that it was time to open my gift from him. I unwrapped the little “jewelry-sized” gift box, only to find a small note. It sent me to my dad, who handed me another box, then to my mom, who handed me another box, then to my father-in-law who handed me yet another box.

I was finally led full circle, back to Mark, who handed me a tissue, because I was indeed teary-eyed, and a final box with a little note that had a hand-written map of the restaurant parking lot. Along with the map, was the key to my new car.

Followed by my family, I counted parking rows and spaces, pushed the unlock button on the key fob, and climbed right into my new car.

Hugs followed, as well as kisses of sincere gratitude.

Sure, he sleeps through 99.9% of the morning duties, but have I mentioned that he's a darn good gift-giver.

He's chalked up a plus in my book!

Eager Eating

2008-02-14T19:51:00.000-08:00

I met a new friend today and thanks to a chocolate valentine heart, neatly wrapped in colorful tin foil, I learned some very valuable information about him, all within 2 minutes.

I learned that Smitty either has no fillings in his teeth, his teeth are removable, or he has no teeth at all! The reason I know this........

My mom is so kind to think of the elderly people who share the living space at the assisted living facility where my grandma resides. Smitty is one of the elderly that I speak of. After my mom handed him his valentine bag full of tasty candies, I helped him untwist the tie, allowing him full access to the sweets. After fingering through a half dozen of the pieces, he finally decided upon a chocolate. With a smile on his face, he dropped it into his mouth and began to chew as if he were eating a steak--more on the well-done side.

For what Smitty, an Alzheimer's patient, failed to do, was remove the colorful tin-foil wrapper that clothed the chocolate morsel.

And I have deducted that he has no fillings, his teeth are removable, or that he has no teeth at all, for the mere fact that instead of immediately spitting it out, he continued to chomp on it. Those of us with fillings would have lit up a room with electricity at the rubbing together of the metals!

Even with my mom nervously shouting at him to, "Spit it out Smitty! Spit it OUT!" he still chewed the treat.

It took the caretaker's gloved hands to finally remove the wrapped morsel from his mouth.

After wiping the nervous sweat from my brow, I had to laugh hysterically at the whole scenario. And I laughed even harder when my mom handed him back his bag of treats and he asked her in confusion, "How do I know which ones I can eat and which ones I can't?"

I'm thinking next year mom should hand out wax lips instead. Unwrapped, of course!

Little Artists

2008-02-12T21:31:00.001-08:00

Second to being told, "Boy, you have your hands full!" I often get the question, "Are they a lot alike?" referring to the triplets.

That question always strikes me as funny, for the very reason that my kids could not be more different; especially Angel and Bella.

Not only are their looks on the opposite side of the spectrum, (brown hair and brown eyes, and blonde hair and blue eyes), but their personalities are just as opposite.

Bella is extremely competetive with lots of patience for monotonous tasks, while Angel is perfectly happy being noncompetitive and quick to need changes while performing monotonous tasks. Which explains the scenario that took place on Monday afternoon.

Bella is very interested in art and drawing and has been asking me if she can sign up for an art class for many weeks now. At the recommendation from a friend, I signed her up for a free trial class at a local art studio. Angel expressed that she would also like to try it out, so on the day of the lesson, I asked if she too, could join. The teacher gladly accepted her attendance as well.

Both Angel and Bella chose a picture that they would be working on...a present for Angel and a mouse for Bella.

Bella was very into the class, listening to the teacher, carrying out the directions she was given, and waiting patiently for her next task.Because I've already explained to you that Angel is on the opposite end of the spectrum, you can only imagine how her lesson was progressing. She hopped off her bench more times than I can count on my fingers and toes combined, she drew her picture and colored it in with chalk before the teacher ever gave her her first direction, and she knocked a box off her neighbors art area, sending no less than 100 pieces of colorful chalk toppling to the carpeted area below.

Needless to say, I could read frustration all over the instructor's face. Which is why she casually moseyed on over to where I was sitting to inform me that she was pretty sure we had reached the end of Angel's lesson.

It was not an easy task as a mother to make this announcement to a little girl who was having a wonderful time, feeling like she was doing a fabulous job.

I took her outside and tried to explain the problems. Through crocodile tears, she explained that there were no problems what-so-ever, and that she had to get back inside to finish her picture. Little did she know, her picture had already been removed, and her area prepared for the next art student. The only thing she could think to do was call her daddy and explain to him the injustice that was being handed out!

Upon completion of the actual lesson, I was once again reminded just how different my girls are...one with the stamina and work ethic of a little mouse, and the other, who thinks outside the box, not taking any direction from the professional!

Now I'm off to think of a really good excuse as to why we won't be heading back to art class next Monday evening!

Bring On Spring

2008-02-10T16:04:00.000-08:00

The last couple of weeks seem like a blur.

I'm not sure if it was because Isaac had some sort of virus that caused his head, neck, and back to hurt.

Or maybe it was because Bella had some sort of virus that caused her to break out in an incredibly itchy rash all over her body.

Maybe it seems like a blur because Mark was out of town.

More than likely, the blur occurred because along with Mark being out of town, Bella and Angel had ear infections that required two visits within 4 hours to the pediatricians office, where the whole community had their children in for similar symptoms.

If there was a dance to be done that would hasten the return of spring, I would be dancing all night long.

But between all the coughing and sneezing and nose wiping, there were a few comments that the kids made that are worthy of mention.

While driving home from the doctors office that particular double visit day, Angel was more concerned about her future than the ear ache at hand. She broke the silence with a huff and a moan of concern, followed by the most stressed out dialogue I've heard her utter to date.

"Oh gosh. What am I going to do? I still have NOT found a boyfriend. I need to find a boyfriend before I can get married!"

That same night, Bella was diagnosing some disease that her sister had. She had out the Elmo stethiscope, blood pressure monitor, and thermometer. When she noticed red spots at the bottom of her bum, she made her diagnosis.

"Oh no, Angel. I hope you don't have Hand, Foot, and Butt Disease!" Her own case of Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease was still fresh in her mind!

And last, but not least, a very cute dialgoue between Angel and her Ma. My mom called to ask Angel how her trip to the doctor's office went. The conversation went something like this:

Ma: "Hi Angel. You went to the doctors today? What did HE say?

Angel: "It's a girl!"

Overhearing Ma laughing hysterically on the other end of the line, she replies sternly, "Really Ma. It's a girl."

Knowing that type of joke is much too sophisticated for a four year old to play, it was apparent that she was trying to let her Ma know that the doctor was not a HE, but she was a girl!

Chivalry in a Stressful Situation

2008-02-02T21:51:00.000-08:00

Bella and Angel tend to panic over the littlest of issues.

A strange, unfamiliar noise, whether it be humming, buzzing, or screeching.
A concerned look on my face if I'm contemplating a situation.
The ultimate threat of leaving them, or one of their siblings behind if they don't get to the car quick enough.
The loss of a beloved toy.

You name it, they can panic over it.

They display their panic by jumping up and down in place, whimpering and moaning like an injured animal on a pogo stick. It's actually really quite comical to witness...when I'm feeling in a happy-go-lucky mood that is.

Just yesterday, we witnessed this expression of panic when I made a pretty dumb mistake. After parking the car in the driveway, unloading four kids along with 10 tons of kid paraphenalia, I did what I always do: secured the car by locking the doors. Only problem was, I locked it with the keys still in the ignition.

Just the utterance of the syllables, "Uh-oh," was enough to initiate panic.

But thank goodness for Isaac. He came to the rescue with a light hearted dialogue that put us all in stitches.
"Don't worry girls. I'm brave......AND strong. I even burp without saying excuse me."

Take note boys....that's chilvary at it's finest!

A Dirty Joke

2008-01-30T17:29:00.000-08:00

Never do I participate in the telling of dirty jokes...they fail to humor me.

Nor do I partake in the telling or listening of dirty stories.

But when the dirty story is as good as this one, I'm unable to keep it to myself.

Brace yourself....it's a good one........

After it rained continuously for a few days last week, the ground was certainly saturated. Any area of earth that was not consumed by ground cover, was consumed by slippery, slimy, DIRTY mud.

Insert dirty story here:

There was a boy and three girls at their father's soccer game. They had never, ever in four years been allowed to play in the mud. Because the mud abounded on all sides, it was time that they partook.

Their overly clean freak mom, wearing a new off-white sweater, just returning from church, bites her tongue, puts on her blinders, and let's kids be kids.

The end result........

Forty-five and half stares from concerned soccer fans and players, an endless amount of clean-up, happy, naked kids on the ride home, and a mom who checked one more "Let-it-go," off of her list!

Apparently...

2008-01-28T20:05:00.000-08:00

We are inundated with shoes as well.

And this is what it looks like after four kids have tried to find a matching pair of shoes to wear for the day.

I still haven't found an organizational strategy for storing shoes...it's obvious that a bin is not the solution.

Most of the time the shoes are laying outside of the bin, as if the bin has spit them out like bad milk.

Any suggestions?

Undergarment Inundation

2008-01-26T19:58:00.000-08:00

Could it be considered an insanity that the contents of my childrens’ undergarment drawers are as follows:

Angel & Bella:
87 pairs of socks- 50 colored/37 white
46 pairs of panties-Baring pictures of everyone from Hello Kitty to Princess Ariel

Isaac:
50 pair of socks- mostly white but at least one of every masculine color in the rainbow
40 pairs of underwear- 7 of which are boxer briefs, 3 of which are training pants, which he hasn’t needed for at least 2 years now

Annie:
93 pairs of socks: 49 colored/44 white
64 pairs of panties-mostly character-including but not limited to Curious George, Dora the Explorer, and My Little Pony

I know what you are thinking… “I might consider the excess amount of undergarments in your childrens’ drawers an insanity, but at this moment, you seem more like an insanity to me because you took the time to count all of the garments. And you categorized them down to their color!”

And if you knew that that’s what I was doing on a Wednesday afternoon when I was free of children, I fear you might really think I’m nuts.

I know I have problems. I believe I have admitted that before. But for the last few weeks, each time I’ve reached into my kids’ drawer to pull out socks or underwear for them to wear, I’ve told myself that I need to organize the mess. The state of the undergarment drawer had not been up to my organizational standard for quite some time, and I couldn't stand it one.more.minute.

Statistically speaking, the contents of the drawers should be exciting for me. It means Angel and Bella would have enough panties for 23 days before I needed to launder more. Isaac could have enough for 37 days, being that I finally tossed out the training pants, and Annie could make it more than 2 whole months before I would need to wash panties.

And in the sock department, I’m even better off yet! Especially considering there are many days when Isaac begs to wear the same socks a second day, aspiring to be a “stinky, smelly, monster!”

So why do my children own this ghastly number of undergarments? I really have no reasonable explanation. I’m not saying that their outerwear situation is any better, (seeing that I just went out to buy three Double Closet Extender Bars to make more room in their closets), but I’m thinking it may be because I have no idea what to do with the ones they have outgrown.

Amvets knows my address by heart, but would they still love me if I replaced the practically new toys I donate with used underwear and socks? I’m pretty sure they would certainly label me insane.

Which is what I will be if my kids disrespect the hard work it took me to reorganize their drawers and they mix the socks and underwear again!

If you can't Beat 'Em....

2008-01-23T14:58:00.001-08:00

Join 'Em! You've heard that saying before. Well, seems Annie has heard that saying before also, because this afternoon she did just that....She joined 'em!

It's obvious that we haven't solved the mouse problem in my van, and it's obvious that the mice are getting desperate. I've been diligent in keeping the van free of food that they can feast on. As a result, they are grabbing for anything else they can get their grubby paws on. Their newest favorite is Crayola crayons. It puzzles me as to where they are finding these, but none-the-less, they are finding them and chewing them to shreds on the carpet in my car. This morning they created a beautiful masterpiece with purple and white. The other day, their palette included gray and blue. If I didn't detest rodents to the nth degree, I might try to capitalize on their artistic abilities and try to sell the artwork to a local studio and make some money. There must be some animal lover out there who would find it priceless.

And if I didn't love Annie to the nth degree, I may have packed her up in a little box with those pesky rodents and set her curbside for the trash men to take, for as I said before, today she joined ranks with the rodents.

If ever I want some silence from Annie, all I need to do is give her some monotonous "picking" task. She loves to pick.

Dried glue off of fingers.

Peeling skin from a sunburned back.

Peeling skin on fingers left over from the blisters from Hand, Foot, & Mouth Disease.

Dried milk on a table left-over from a meal.

You name it--She'll pick it!

Which explains why she was at a loss for words the whole ride home from Costco today. I didn't question her silence for fear that I might invite conversation from her. What I should have feared was the mess she was making all over the back seat of the car. If she wasn't holding the evidence between her scrawny little fingers, I would have surely believed that the mice were getting brave enough to work while we were out and about running errands.

In her 25 minutes of complete silence, (which is completely unheard of for my Annie), she had almost finished picking every square inch of aluminum foil backing off the wrapper of a Costco hot-dog. It wouldn't be so bad if she was ripping large pieces off, but instead, she littered the car with at least 100 tiny pieces of silver foil. And she thoroughly enjoyed every last minute of it.

Do they make traps for catching pesky little girls?

Are we Restricted Disturbances?

2008-01-22T22:19:00.000-08:00

What constitutes a disturbance?

Would four children toting sticks, swinging and batting at anything getting in their way constitute a disturbance?

Would four kids climbing on huge boulders to pose for their picture happy mom constitute a disturbance?

How about a whole family climbing on rocks to pose for a picture? How disturbing is that?

I'm sure the shouts of sheer excitement by a little boy, "This is so much fun! We should do this everyday," could be considered a disturbance.It may not be disturbing in an environmental sort-of-way, but I'm completely disturbed that my girls are so darn cute, that one day I'm sure I'll be fighting off boys with the sticks that they were using on our hike this day! Okay, so that was off-topic.

I'm hoping that our numerous disturbances weren't so disturbing that the San Diego County Department of Planning and Land Use was contacted, for we were hiking on our very own property.

It has been almost three years since we have lived in our current house, and for three years I have wanted to hike the mountain. The top of the ridge is nick-named, "Hang Glider Hill," and it is with very good reason that it has this name, for this is what we watch from our backyard on a daily basis. (A windy-daily basis to be exact.)

The kids have always delighted in watching the colorful parachutes soar overhead on a windy day. It is with pleasure that they shout to their overhead guests, "HEEEELLLLLLOOOOOO Hang-Gliders."

On Sunday I decided that it was time we made the trek. We were not disappointed! There were at least 10 hang-gliders soaring gracefully in the wind. They were so beautiful, floating by the radiant sunset that was taking place on the west horizon. It was a spectacular sight, and even more exciting, it was just a rocks throw from our very own home.

Although I was most fascinated with the para-gliders, the kids were intrigued by other things. The main one being---GETTING DIRTY! Ugh! It was fun to watch Isaac running here and there, trying to convince us that he was finding dinosaur footprints in the dirt. And even greater, fulfilling my need for taking pictures, the girls were quick to jump on any nearby rock and pose for a picture.

All disturbances aside, we had a great time!

My Very Own Love Story

2008-01-19T20:10:00.000-08:00

I'm a sucker for love stories. It's one of the reasons why I love Nicholas Sparks novels. Love stories are better to me than sitting in front of a fire on a chilly winter night, sipping hot chocolate with whip cream floating on top. Unless of course there is a love story playing on the television screen.

Today, I experienced my own little love story. It was far better than any Sparks book I have read. Even far better than any romance movie I have ever watched. It was a love story between my son and me.

While sitting on the floor playing with the three girls, I suddenly felt two little arms reach around my neck from behind. Looking over my shoulder, I came eye to eye with my little boy. Before I could ask what he needed, he spoke words to me that made my heart melt.

"Mom, I love you so much." Before I could reply, he followed that with even sweeter words. "There's no ending of me loving you."

"There's no ending of me loving you?"

I've played the words back in my mind a thousand times since he uttered them. There's no ending of him loving me.

If that's not the definition of unconditional love, I don't know what is.

Unsolicited declaration of adoration--the most important reward that a mother could ever ask for!

Disappointing Day

2008-01-18T19:39:00.001-08:00

It's a very good thing that my kids were on the manageable side of the behavior spectrum yesterday, for my Thursday morning was not how I would have planned it to be.

Because my monsters spend the night with my mom on Wednesday nights, Thursdays tend to be a morning in which I'm able to sleep in. To clarify, a sleep-in for me usually means the neon green digits on my digital clock read 6-3-0. Which is fine with me, because the fact that I wasn't awoken 35 1/2 times throughout the night to replace blankets, give extra hugs and kisses, soothe a hysterical dream victim, or soothe the roommate who was startled awake by the hysterical screams, is a sleep-in enough for me.

But I am remiss of my original story.

On Thursday morning, before the clock read 6:00 am, I was the one being startled awake. Not by the usual kids trying to squeeze into any open inch of my bed, but rather by the annoying chirp of a smoke detector that is 12 inches outside my bedroom door. There aren't many things more annoying than an incessant noise that cannot be drowned out by the plugging of your ears. A two foot by three foot pillow squeezed onto my ears between 5 pounds of pressure from my arms would not even drown out the sound. And my husband laying within the same ear shot of the chirp was not bothered a bit, therefore was not willing to remove himself from slumber to change the battery. It took only 10 chirp repetitions for me to throw in the ~~towel~~ blanket and find something else to do besides focus on the annoyance.

Which is what led me to the second disappointment of my morning. I went downstairs and pulled out the Disneyland tickets that my dad and his wife kindly bought me for my birthday last February. I was finally going to consult with my calendar and try to coordinate a couple of days that Mark and I could get away to take a trip to the "Happiest Place on Earth." What kind of Happy Place puts expiration dates on their tickets? With great shock and disappointment, I noticed that my final day to be happy was on December 13, 2007. One-hundred and twenty dollars worth of tickets were now worth NOTHING! And of course there was not a phone number on this planet that would connect me to a Guest Service Representative.

In an attempt to drown my sorrow, I decided I would go for a manicure and pedicure with the gift certificate that my dear friend bought me for my birthday last February. Do you see a trend? No it wasn't expired, but when I called the number on the certificate to book a much needed appointment, I was not greeted by a soft voice that was difficult understand. Instead, what I heard almost reminded me of the beeping that was coming from my smoke detector upstairs.

"Beep, beep beep. We're sorry, but the number you have reached has been disconnected, or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again."

I wasn't convinced that my fate could be so, so I got in my car and drove to the salon. Sure enough, the large sign hanging above the door bared a brand new name. I was just sure that the new owners would honor the certificate in an attempt to gain a new customer. Boy was I wrong. After questioning the man whether or not they wanted me as a new customer, he sweetly replied with a smile, "Of course I do, but you have to pay. This not my certificate." I snatched the certificate from his fingers and let him know that he wouldn't be seeing my business-ever.

Looking back, I realize it could have been much worse. If my kids were home when that smoke detector began it's chirping business, the whole neighborhood would have been startled awake with their shrieks of horror, thinking that our house must be going up in flames because the detector was making noise.

And after contacting Disney via email, they asked me to send back the tickets with an explanation of why they were not used and they would consider a refund. I've already been brainstorming and searching for the words that will touch the hearts of those Disney executives, causing them to replace my two useless tickets with ones that will get me to the "Happiest Place on Earth."

If I choose the right words, maybe they'll even throw in four more tickets so my kids can accompany us.

Righty or Lefty

2008-01-17T06:31:00.000-08:00

One fourth of my children are left-handed. But the other day at preschool, Isaac joined Bella in this oddity.

When I returned to the kids' preschool class on Friday to gather my crew, their teacher was showing me the projects that they had participated in that day. They were making a line graph, displaying which of the students in the class wrote with their right hand, and which wrote with their left.

Because I daily watch my children manipulate toys, puzzles, and writing devices, I knew that Bella was a lefty, while the other three were righty's. But on Friday, Isaac convinced his teacher that he wrote with his left hand.

She laid the paper out on the table in front of me, proving by the neatness of the two names that he had written, that sure enough, he wrote better with his left hand. The nice and neat "Isaac" that was all in a line and separated correctly between letters, was said to be written with his left hand. Right below it, in a way that would make a chicken proud, was the "Isaac" he supposedly wrote with his right hand.

"Are you sure he wrote that one with his left hand?" I asked over and over, and with an almost convincing assurance, his teacher replied with a, "Yes, I'm sure." I wasn't going to argue the fact that I wasn't convinced, so I simply dropped the subject.

It wasn't until Monday that the truth came out. As I walked through the door to once again gather my crew, his teacher met me with eager anticipation, to clue me in on the ~~sneakiness~~ perspicuity of my son.

"Isaac fooled me. He completely and totally tricked me, and I fell for it!"

You see, maybe it's because he's surrounded by femininity; by pinks and purples, and everything girlie, but Isaac did not want his hand printed in red, hung on the wall for everyone to see. Blue is the color that represents a boy, and on that Friday, blue was the color that was representing the hands of the lefties.

So a lefty was Isaac on that particular Friday.

Too Close for Comfort

2008-01-10T20:24:00.001-08:00

I rarely lay down to rest on the couch while the kids are up and playing. Not because I don't enjoy the rest, rather because inevitably I become more important than whatever toy is out. I become the object of argument.

"I'm laying on Mommy's lap!"

"No, I was laying there first!"

"Moooommmmm. Her foot is touching me!"

Although my rest never comes to fruition in these situations, this arguing is easily solved. I gently roll to the side, thus knocking the arguees to the carpeted floor below. Problem solved.

Crazy Hair Day

2008-01-09T16:15:00.000-08:00

Do I tell the truth and crush her self esteem, or do I just smile, nod, and agree with her, "Yes, Bella, you do look beautiful?" On most occasions, I can easily answer yes when she asks me if she looks cute, but when she came down the stairs the other afternoon after "fixing her hair" in front of the mirror in the bathroom, I had to contain myself from laughter.

She was so proud of her new hair-do, prancing down the stairs like a girl who just received a make-over. What she didn't realize was that it looked like she either went to a pet groomer, or her hair stylist needed his/her eyes checked.

I pride myself on making sure my girls' have nicely combed hair, finished off with a ribbon or bow that coordinates with their outfits. I even asked for a $75 dollar ceramic hair curling iron for Christmas, more for curling their hair, than my own.

I like it when they look something like this:

Which is why it scared me to death when Bella came down the stairs after primping in front of the mirror for 15 minutes, proud to look like this:

So, do I tell her the truth? Do I tell her she looks as silly as a pig wearing a tutu, or do I embrace her independence and hope that she gets a clue before someone else tells her just how silly she looks?

Quick Change

2008-01-07T20:43:00.000-08:00

I'm wondering if any of the teachers at my childrens' preschool would notice if I pulled a quick change on their role sheet, trading one Kamahi kid for another. I'm thinking it would lighten my load each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but then again, it would add to theirs.

This morning Isaac was adamant that he was taking a sabbatical from preschool. With a face that resembled a boy who'd just lost his best friend, he rounded the corner into my bathroom where I was getting ready, and sheepishly spoke the words, "Mom, will you please cancel preschool for me?" He looked in such despair, I almost picked up the phone and punched the numbers to reach his teacher.

If his two sisters weren't so elated about school each day, I might believe that he was being tortured every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. As my Protective Mother Instinct subsided, it hit me what the true issue was. For the past three weeks, he has been allowed a little more time each day to do what he loves best....vegging out in front of the television, watching cartoons. It hit him that he would now miss out on Transformers, or Arthur, or any other cartoon that caught his interest. He temporarily forgot how much fun he has each day at school, learning new things and playing with his friends.

And my Annie had three weeks to forget how quiet and boring it gets around the house when her three siblings are at school. It took less than 30 minutes upon returning from the drop-off for her to remember.

As she followed me around the house talking my ear off, I requested that she use the bathroom because we were going to be heading out to run some errands. Her response came in the form of questions and comments in rapid succession, "Are we going to get Bella and Angel? I miss MY Bella and Angel. I love MY Bella and Angel. When are they coming home?"

I hated to burst her bubble, but she still had another lonely, three hours with just me, until her Partners in Crime returned home. And it was then that I had the dream.

How wonderful would it be to send Annie to school and keep Isaac at home. It would be perfect because she wants to be at school, and he wants to be home. She could fine tune her ~~never shut-up~~ gift for gab with the kids at school, and Isaac could get even better at watching tv. I can only imagine how quiet it would be around here and how much I could get done. I wonder if the teachers would notice if I just switched one Kamahi for another?

To relieve some of the depression, knowing that it wasn't an achievable dream, I reminded myself that in just 7 short months, Annie will be old enough to start preschool, and the others will be in kindergarten. I'm pretty sure that I'll be lost in the quiet of my own home, not knowing what to do in the silence.

It may take me a ~~minute~~ week to get used to the solitude, but I'm sure I'll channel my loneliness to tasks that have been begging for my attention for the past four years.

I'm off to rip off a ring from my, "Count Down To All my Kids in School" strand....only 210 more rings to go!

Horribly Normal

2008-01-06T20:02:00.000-08:00

Am I a horrible mom? Or am I like all of the other mom's out there who love their children more than life itself, but don't love their long vacations from school?

Was it horrible that I was just as excited as they were to rip a ring off of the Count-Down to Christmas Strand we made, not because it was one day closer to Christmas morning, but rather it was one day closer to their return to preschool?

Was it horrible that over the past few weeks, I've been counting down the hours until bed time, while they were counting down the hours until wake-up?

Is it horrible that I mentally mark off the days on the calendar each week, eagerly awaiting Wednesday, because they spend the night at my mom's that night so Mark and I can go out on a date?

I'm thinking that I'm horribly normal. I'm pretty sure that all of you other mothers out there whose children are getting ready to return to school after a long winter vacation, are just as excited as I am.

But are you this excited?