Find Me A Hole...Or Some Super Glue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Apples, And More Apples

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

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

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...

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

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

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?