Talk about sacrifice

Why I'm Seth's "best fwee-end":

1) Bought him the "gel (girl) one" Happy Meal, because "I own-y wike the Ponies, Mom."

2) Reached my hand into the McDonald's garbage to retrieve the My Little Pony brush, when sorrowful sobbing began.

3) Reach my hand in A SECOND TIME to retrieve the actual My Little Pony when sobbing did not end.

4) Properly sterilized the Pony and brush for 15 minutes ("Mom? Are you cleaning it with oatmeal??") and gave them back to him to play with.

So you don't worry...

Why I just might make it:

Got a full night's sleep (Faith slept from 9 pm to 6 am)

Checked these off my list:

Buttoned and zipped a pair of non maternity pants (no comment on the skin folding over)

Choked out the words (sitcom style, you know, like when the character can't bring himself to say a certain and so he stutters every time he tries to get it out?): "Ryan, this year, I just cannot fit in the neighbor-gift-baking-plate day. It's just going to have to go." He almost died of joy. Sorry neighbors and friends. It's you or me.

And we're starting to get TONS of these:

Habla Espanol?

From Seth, between 12:10 and 12:45 pm:

"Mom, I can count in Spanish (says, in English, one, two, three, etc.)"

"Wook, Faith, I can skip in Spanish"

"Mom, I can play in Spanish. See me?"

"Mom, I can sit on the Not Listening chair in Spanish!"

Maybe that's the problem...

We're not speaking the same language.

The bloom is off the rose

The jig's up. The hormones have worn off (or turned majorly on, depending on what we're talking about). The baby's woken up and I have no more "I just had a baby, leave me alone" excuse any longer.



I'm totally drowning.



As I told Ryan last week (during the 27 tearful times I called him, gasping for air): I cannot do my life, a newborn AND Christmas. It's humanly impossible.



If I'd written this on Saturday (I should have, I'm always a little more amusing when I'm drowning in depression hormones--all extremes and superlatives), I would have told you how I

• had LOST it with Jane the night before,


• have lost 0 pounds in the last 4 weeks


• cannot deal with the discomfort of the girdle I bought to hold in my post-fifth-baby stomach "just for a few weeks until I can fit into my normal jeans without severe muffin top"


• am feeling more like a failure as a parent due to previously mentioned parenting classes and all the ways it shows me I suck. (Drill Sergeant, much?)


• have a husband whose perfection benefits yet totally EXHAUSTS me (especially in comparison to my less-than-perfect self)


• am feeling slightly suffocated by being the only feeder, the only person "who knows where the baby is in her schedule", the only person who can properly turn the blanket into a papoose.


• never want to attend a ward Christmas party again, as I spent the whole time on my feet (Ryan was the emcee) getting my kids food, rocking Faith and dragging Seth home to change after his "accident"

But it's Wednesday (and I am late for Cub Scouts as I finish this up) and I'm no longer swathed in despair.

I still didn't eat breakfast until 11:30 am today and I still have "do silhouettes" at the top of my to do list for the 6th day in a row (address/sign/fold Christmas letter are #2,3,4) and I still have the muffin top (ditched the girdle in favor of maternity pants) and I still marvel at how long it takes to simply sustain (feed, clothe, clean up after) my children.

But for today, I'll keep doing it...it's just not very easy.

And that's all I have to say.

Why I do what I do

...and I know the picture's too small.

I'm not waiting for Blogger to upload it again!

Now, that's Customer Service

In the interest of fairness, I feel the need to give another side to the story regarding Wal-Mart's customer service. Long-time readers will remember my previous price checking issues, but I'm here to redeem America's Favorite Store.

Why?

Because last Sunday night, I answered a call from a customer service associate, letting me know that I had left my photo packet of a "really cute baby" (thank you very much!) in the store and that they'd be holding it at Register #19 for me. Which is really nice.

Except they called me at 11:22 pm. As in, 38 minutes before midnight. When 85% of the world is sleeping.

Apparently, customer service at Wal-Mart never sleeps.

(Rescued photos of Faith. Note the sleeping.)

Gabe and the Spitting

The other day, I walk in from the gym just as Ryan says, in a loud, incredulous voice, "Gabe! What did you just do?" Gabe, in the raspy, gulpy voice he gets when he's worried about being in trouble says, "Um. Nothing." Ryan says, in a more loud, yet equally incredulous voice, "Gabe!! Did you just SPIT on the carpet?!" Gabe, really raspy and gulpy, replies, "Uh. Yeah?"

(The culprit, refusing to pose in a hilarious What Me? pose for this post. What a baby.)

Okay, seriously. My 8 year old just hawked a lugy on the floor. (I've been to Dave Barry's blog and checked on the proper spelling and terminology of both hawked and lugy, so I can hang with the little boys now).

I'm imagining puddles of spit in various stages of drying all over the house (Ryan mentioned to me later that he thought he saw him do it earlier that morning, but didn't think it could possibly be true, until he heard/saw it again). I'm planning on never going barefoot again. And Faith will certainly never touch her pristine little tummy to Gabe's "augmented" carpet again.

Okay, but this is the thing:

HE DID IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIS DAD. His really neat, overly-concerned-with-taking-good-care-of-our-things dad. He was, literally, 3 feet away from him, in the same room. Which leads me to believe

HE DIDN'T THINK IT WAS WRONG!

Guess what? This falls into the category of Stuff I Didn't Think I Needed To Explain To My Children Because It's That Obvious. We've never had a FHE on Not Leaving Your Saliva Around Our House. We've never felt it was necessary to remind our progeny, "Hey. In case you were thinking of copiously drooling into the rug, don't." Have you?

Sadly, this category (Stuff I Didn't Think I Needed To Explain To My Children Because It's That Obvious) is shrinking for me. As I have more children and more years with them, I realize there is apparently very little that actually falls into that category.

Don't cut your own clothes with scissors while they are on your body? Not in that Category.


Don't put pennies into the car CD player? Not in that Category.


Don't put hot glue on your finger? Not in that Category.

So, Readers, if I'm more absent than normal from my blog...it's because I'm doing lots and lots of explaining. It appears we haven't been doing enough of that lately. I'd appreciate any ideas of things I should make sure that I explain. I wouldn't want to forget one.

Quick Quote #30

"I LOVE this game. I've never played gambling, but it kinda seems like gambling."