The best morning ever...

This morning, my alarm went off at 6am. I saw the hallway light flick on, so I knew the boys were up. I snoozed til 6:30, and then dragged my tired bum to the shower. By the time I got downstairs, it was 6:47. I could hear Josh and Caleb exchanging pleasantries. They informed me that the snacks and lunches were already made, they had already eaten breakfast... and they were obviously dressed. With nothing else to do, I went back upstairs to dry my hair, until it was time to head for the bus.

After careful reflection of this scenario, I figured I had two options:

1) I could feel guilty at the thought of my 8 and 5 year old fending for themselves while I snoozed in my bed. OR...
2) I could feel confident in knowing that I trained them right, in order to be independent and responsible.

I chose the latter.

Josh and Caleb on the 1st day of school. Aren't they handsome?

quite alarming!

This morning I had to run some errands, so after packing a diaper bag and buckling Brooks in his car seat, thankfully I noticed that Mike's car was parked behind mine. (I say that because one time I didn't realize that, and ended up backing into his car... not my finest moment).

I was about to unlock his car, but noticed that it was already unlocked from when I drove the boys to the bus stop earlier that morning. So I just opened the door. *BEEP BEEP BEEP!* The alarm started blaring.... and I suddenly became soooooooo confused. I had both sets of car keys in my hand and I thought that I must have hit the alarm button on the "car remote thingy". I did my best to choose the right set of keys and pushed the button, only to set off the other car honking. So I had two simultaneously honking cars in my driveway, and I had no idea how to stop it. In a panic, I randomly started pushing both sets of buttons, trying desperately to differentiate between the honks so I could push the corresponding alarm button. But as soon as I got my car turned off, and tried to shut off Mike's car, the button wouldn't work, so I would try my car again and set it off honking again. The more the honking went on, the more flustered I got! I even succumbed to screaming out loud and jumping around like a crazy person... as if that would help the situation.

After what seemed like 7 minutes, I finally figured out that Mike's car was the original honking car, but the remote control thingy didn't work. At this point, I finally managed a logical thought, "Maybe I set off the alarm by opening the door in the first place." So with both sets of keys still clutched in my hands, I slammed the car door shut with my foot, and tried Mike's alarm button one final time. SILENCE.

I felt like I just defused a ticking time bomb and let out a loud "Whoo-hoo!", complete with a little fist-pump in the air to celebrate. That's when I heard it.... a scuffle on the pavement behind me. I did a slow turn to my right and saw a lady walking her dog. I felt I deserved a congratulations for a job well-done. But she did a quick spin and just set off walking again, pretending like she didn't notice the undeniable commotion. That's when the embarrassment set it. Why do I always have witnesses when I do something stupid. *sigh*

My thoughts drifted back to Brooks, who was still helplessly strapped in the backseat, and I was worried he might have gotten scared during the blaring madness! But upon opening the car door, he immediately started clapping and said, "Mommy... What?" (2 of the very few words he can actually say) I felt validated by his applause, and did a mini bow! Ta-Dah!

It may be yes, or it may be no.

That's the answer I got when I googled "metal bowl in microwave".

Why did I google that?

Because I saw a bowl of half-cooked, half-eaten instant oatmeal on the counter Sunday morning. Only after I wondered why it wasn't fully cooked, did I realize that the bowl was in fact METAL. If there's one thing I know about microwave cooking, it's not to put anything metal in there. I'm afraid my 8 year old son is NOT aware of this important rule.

So rather then letting images of lighting bolts and flames run rampant in my brain, I went straight to "Google" for an explanation of what exactly would happen. The possible scenarios ranged from "nothing would happen" to "metal would expand and possibly blow up, flames or lighting bolts could result causing serious injury, metal heating up to volcanic temperatures causing severe burns upon removal." (scenarios may or may not be exaggerated by my imagination and for dramatic effect)

I finally broke down and asked Josh the details. In order to get the "real" story, I tried to be subtle, so as not to cause alarm. Here's how the conversation went.

Mom: So, did you enjoy your oatmeal this morning?
Josh: Yup.
Mom: It looked a little undercooked... are you sure it tasted good?
Josh: Yup. I like it that way.
Mom: So what made you not cook it all the way?
Josh: I just wanted to try it.
Mom: So nothing happened with the microwave?
Josh: Nope.

Later on I told Mike about the "Metal Bowl Incident of November 14th, and after making sure that no damage was caused to the microwave, he initiated the following conversation.

Dad: So, did you put a metal bowl in the microwave? (His voice was smothered in a boyhood curiosity for all things dangerous)
Josh: Yeah, it was a full-on lighting storm in there!

They practically were high-fiving each other and doing chest-bumps! I guess my "approach" in trying to get the truth was all wrong. Boys.

At least he didn't do THIS.

take a picture... it'll last longer!

I just spent a good part of my day wiping fingerprints, smudges and streaks from my kitchen cabinets and walls. Not my favorite thing to do on a sunny Friday afternoon. But the alternative of encrusted surfaces is not an option I like either. I'm WAY too OCD for that.

I know what some of you are thinking... "Oh, cherish those little fingerprints while you can... before you know it, they'll be all grown up and gone." You're right. To some degree. In fact, I can't argue the fact that the hands in my family are getting bigger and more grown up. One might even think that the result of that fact would mean less evidence left behind of their presence. But the truth of the matter is... the evidence is still here... just slightly higher on the wall then before, which means much more surface area for ME to clean.

While we're on the subject, cleaning is not my favorite thing to do. Nevertheless, I do it every day... in one room or another, and I actually take great pride in a clean home. Although the whole thing may not be perfectly cleaned all at once, I get around to most of it sooner or later. But I never get a break from it. So if there's one little thing that I can cross off my list of never-ending-things-to-clean, it would definitely be washing cabinets and walls because it seems so simple... just don't touch the walls!

Case in point: I do not need another reminder of the 3 boys living in our house, thereby giving me one more thing to clean.

So, how do I cherish those little fingers and toes, if I refuse to let them stay on my walls? I TAKE A PICTURE! I'd much rather reminisce about those chubby little patties by seeing them first-hand in my scrapbook, (aka file of photos still embedded safely on my computer in original digital format), as opposed to trying to squeeze some cuteness out of a dirty, nasty imprint left behind.

See what I mean??

Are you convinced?

It's like hypnosis...

If you have kids... you might have heard of UmiZoomi. If not, here's a quick recap... Basically, it's a little cartoon where miniature super heroes, with tiny super powers, come to the rescue of children who face serious life-threatening dilemmas that range from broken playground equipment to a stranded ice cream truck.

This show has proved to be purely hypnotizing to my 2 year old. He even gets that "sleepy-retarded" look as he lays on the couch propping up his head in his hands. I've even caught my husband trapped in a glazed state as his mouth falls open. My favorite part is when the girl superhero changes her outfit in a swirl to imitate dandelion fuzz, or her pig tails turn into a measuring tape. Seriously, it's mesmerizing.

And according to Brooks, the best part is If you stay tuned til the end where you'll be honored to participate in the ever popular "Craaaaazzzzzy Shake!"... Team UmiZoomi!... WAY TO GO!!!

If you're dying to see first-hand what all the fuss is about... you can get a glimpse here...
Team UmiZoomi Video

fortune tellers...

Do you remember these? Paper fortune tellers that you used to make in elementary and junior high? I remember writing things like, "You will marry your best friend." or "You will have 7 kids!" Well apparently, they're back... but not like I remember!

One of the neighbor kids was making one of them at our kitchen table. Josh was intrigued with the concept of the mysterious origami wonder. To assist in coming up with fortunes, Josh blurted out, "You will have explosive diarrhea for the rest of your life!"

It never occurred to me to write such blasphemy when I was 8 years old. I swear these boys are born with it... because I NEVER taught them this!

Turns out, the neighbor boy was making the fortune teller as a study guide for a homework assignment. That's my boy!


It finally happened. Or maybe it's already happened, and this was just the first time I noticed it. But today it finally caught up with me.

My lack of shame... and my children's awareness of shame came to a head today. It was very subtle. In fact, I almost didn't notice it.

It is raining today. Not a full on down pour... and not a drizzle... But a good rain. So as soon as I rolled out of bed, I knew I didn't have to comb my hair this morning. The clouds make an already dark morning even darker, so no one would see me huddled in my car at 7:15 am. I fixed lunches and snacks while they ate breakfast and got themselves ready. It was a pleasant, low-key morning.

7:12 am: Time to load up in the car and head to the bus.

"Do you want me to bring an umbrella so I can walk you right up to the bus?" I asked.

Josh, giving me a quick up-and-down inspection and taking full notice of my fleece bathrobe, or house coat as my Grandma's call it, said, "No, we can just run up there really fast."

Caleb went as far as to say, "Can we actually walk there by ourselves?" Mind you, it's pouring down rain. I would be considered the worst mother in the world if I sent them out there walking to the bus by themselves in the rain.

"I'll go put on some pants?" I pleaded.

Both of them shook their heads.

Please be aware that I didn't want anyone to see me either... it's not like I enjoy people seeing my bed-head hair and bathrobe. But desperate times come for desperate measures. But just to be safe, I put a coat on over my robe, so at least from the waist up, while I sat in the car, no one would notice that I wasn't actually wearing clothes.
Check out this gal...she's actually strutting around a construction site in her skivvies. My problem is, I don't look this cute in the morning.

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