Spring Break

So, this week is spring break. As much as I would love to say I'm mom of the year and all that, I have to admit this week has been difficult. The first two days the kids were bored. It rained and it rained and it rained. We made due, escaping once during a bout of sunshine to play in the park. The kids had the entire park to themselves and had a blast. Usually, they share it with forty other children. And that is just from our block. No kidding. The park is just the right size for my four kids to enjoy, but whatever, right? Fortunately, they can ride their bikes around the circle in the alley and it all works out great.

Yesterday I put bullet proof vests on all of us and we ventured out. OK, OK, I'm kidding. But sometimes it feels like we need one. We ventured over to the safer part of town and signed up for the library. As soon as we crossed the bridge, I felt much calmer and happier. It seems almost normal over there. The library actually went rather well. We came home and things went better for the rest of the evening. I tucked up the kids all snug in their beds at bedtime and I was pleased when no one yodeled. For some reason, my six year old has taken up yodeling when the Hubby has duty. He stands on his bed and yodels at the top of his little mighty lungs. I told him absolutely no zoo in the morning if he insisted on visiting the Swiss Alps last night. Thankfully, he put his Swiss Horn away and refrained from yodeling with with the goats and slept peacefully.

Ahhhhhh. Happiness is.

So I thought things were going great. Until I woke up. At seven o'clock in the morning. To the cries of "It's smoking, it's smoking!"

WTH?

Turns out my nine-year-old and my six-year-old decided to find out what happens when they rip the light bulb off of a lit/on night light.

Um, it smokes.

And sparks.

And thankfully trips the breaker in their room so no one was shocked and no fires erupted.

I really wish they could have skipped that specific science experiment.

So Mama Bear got out of bed instead of Mommy. And I was a bear. Literally. Growling and snarling. Mostly out of fear. But don't tell "them" that.

I stomped around the stream and cleaned off my fur and emerged more of a Mama Cat. Prowly and cautious. I gathered up the kittens and brought them downstairs and put them to work. Cleaning and sweeping and picking up. I fed them all their bowls of milk (with some ceral and fruit in it), and swept them out the door to the zoo.

The zoo went OK. It was cold. My oldest was nice enough to give his sister one of his three shirts to wear. We saw some creepy crawly things and some scaly things. We pressed nose to nose with some monkeys. Well, with a sheet of glass in between our noses, but the kids weren't aware of that. In their minds they were nose to nose with some curious little monkeys. It was very cute...I wish I had my camera with me. We fed some goats and pretended to be prairie dogs. Then we headed to a park outside of the zoo to eat a snack and play on the playground. My oldest was kind enough to supply another heart stopping moment for the Mama Bear/Cat/Mommy. They had some of those old fashioned metal monkey bars that are in an arch. You know, the ones we all played on for years before they deemed them too dangerous. Well, he was trying to make it to the top of the arch, and he had just reached the top and was about to celebrate when he fell through. And my heart fell out of my chest, down my leg, and out of the leg of my pants. And then some squirrels stomped all over my heart. All in three seconds. It was amazing. Really. I watched my little boy's head whiz past the bars in slow motion at 70 MPH. I saw the hairs on his head brush over the bars, his skull intact. I didn't even have time to be relieved because the squirrels were already taking off with my heart. I watched him fall to the ground in a heap and rejoiced when he immediately stood up. "MOM, DID YOU SEE THAT? THAT WAS SO COOL!"

I ran after the squirrels and got my heart back.

Boys.

I swear.

Home safe, getting ready to bake. Chocolate cake. Just what the doctor ordered.

A quick video

The last egg.

(If look up on the fence next to the post, you will see him passing by the blue egg over and over)

Well, this is a new one

My daughter's teacher called.

My daughter is stuck in her coat.

::scratches head::

Say that again?

My daughter is stuck in her coat.

They want me to come in and remove her coat and bring her a new coat.

Apparently she zipped her coat all the way up because it's raining today, and there are teeth missing at the top of the zipper, so it won't go back down.

Now, I have removed heads from in between railings, feet from the bars of the kitchen chairs, hands from places they shouldn't have been stuck (get your mind out of the gutter! I'm talking like into the hole of a pop-up baby wipes container type stuff), and hair from zippers. But I can't say I have ever been called to the school to remove my children's coats before. On my scale, this is not that big of a deal. I'll probably go in and pop it off over her head or it will unzip with a little persuasion. Apparently they have a zero touching rule and they aren't allowed to help manipulate my daughter's arms and stuff to get the coat off over her head or down her body. I can respect that. I asked the teacher to have Alexia try to wriggle it over her head on her own. So as soon as my youngest finishes eating his breakfast, I guess we are off to the school.

Wish me luck.

****************
Update!

Really, like I mentioned before, being stuck in her coat is a new one, but not the worst thing in the world. Remember I had asked the teacher to have Alexia try to wriggle it over her head on her own? When I arrived at the school, her coat was off, but still zipped up and "stuck". I got out to my vehicle and tried the zipper and it went up and down with absolutely no problem at all. I don't know. The only thing I can think of is that the zipper got stuck over the cloth at the top of the zipper and the missing teeth (tooth, really) had nothing to do with it. So the coat is fine to wear, I just won't have her wear it to school anymore.

I'm fairly amused. I never turn down a chance to smile these days.

Another successful dinner

So last night eating my son's dinner...well, let's just say I secretly threw away the grilled cheese. I didn't even know you could screw those up! :X

My daughter made broiled shrimp with garlic butter sauce for dipping, corn, baked potatoes, and I made cucumbers in homemade dressing. My daughter made the Hubby a steak, too. It was yummy. We are all stuffed.

I'm not sure why I haven't had the kids involved in making dinner before. I guess it's because I love to cook and it's my "me time," as odd as that sounds. I'm enjoying having the kids help me outside of baking, though. I really am.

It's a Dinner affair

So I've decided to let each child pick the meal and prepare dinner this week. Each child gets their own night. Tonight was my 6 year old's turn. He chose grilled cheese and tomato soup. He was so cute. He got out the sectioned trays and set them up just like lunch trays with silverware and a napkin. He made everything himself...he even put them in the skillet himself and checked them. I did turn them for him and turn the stove off and on for him (along with heavily supervising him putting the sandwiches in so he didn't burn his arms. I had him assemble them on the counter so he just had to drop them into the skillet).

He was so proud of his accomplishment.

Until I told him the cook had to clean up the kitchen. ::cheeky grin::

I think I'll give him a break tonight, though.

I took a picture of him standing in front of his cooking food, but I have lost my USB cable. One day I'll have pictures to share again. My camera doesn't take great indoor pictures since I dropped it. :(

Tomorrow is my daughter's turn to make dinner. She has chose marinated shrimp on a scewer (we looked up recipes together), and a steak for Daddy. On the side we will have baked potatoes and corn and something green. I decided to have her make a steak for Daddy since we just had Shrimp on Friday night, lol.

Life is moving along

Life keeps on marching by hand in hand with time. The kids are getting bigger, older, and wiser. And sassier. They test me at every turn of the road. I often feel at a loss of what to do.

My oldest was talking back and being Mr. Drama King last night, so I sent him to bed early. He was up late the night before and up early the next morning. (Through no fault but his own - the Hubby had to go up and tell him to get back in bed at least an hour after we tucked them in). The problem was, I sent him to bed and was still telling him to get back in bed an hour later. He kept coming back downstairs. He won't listen to me at all. Worst of all...apparently problems in school sprung up in one day. What?!?! We had to take care of family business, so the kids were out of school for a week. The day we left, conferences were held and all of my kids' teacher's sent notes home saying a conference wasn't needed. I would have liked to meet with the kids' teachers, but since we were going out of town, that worked out. So yesterday I received the weekly folders that the kids get to send home old work and things. On the front, I have to sign it every week and every week the option "Conference needed?" is checked "No". Well, after just one day of attending school since conferences, Jacob's teacher checked "Yes". And I had to sign two tests that my son failed. Did she not know this at the time of conferences? I mean, give me a break! Plus, my daughter's teacher also said "No Conference Needed," but her report card had a sudden Unsatisfactory and Needs improvement on it. Out of the blue, just a month after receiving Satisfactories in those two areas.

I'm sorry, I'm on a rant again. This school continues to plauge the children and me. They teach towards the benchmark tests that they do once a month. It's all about keeping their accredation and not about the children at all. I know I would homeschool if I thought the kids would listen to me. But they don't. And we all end up getting frustrated and nothing would be learned.

Life with kids

Today started out like any other post-duty day. I was able to sleep in until 7:30 when the alarm on my phone began to buzz angrily. I hit the snooze and lay staring at the ceiling and calling out orders to the kids to get dressed and clean up. Somehow I managed to lie there until 8 AM. Oops. I heaved myself out of my ever so comfortable-and-calling-out-to-stay-in-it bed and made my way slowly to the bathroom to do my business and brush my teeth and hair and stuff. I definitely missed the shower wagon by lying in bed until 8. It's such a rare treat these days, I was enjoying my lounging.

Boy, did I pay for that lounging. I managed to get downstairs and I managed to throw the kids together a semi-decent lunch that included a sandwich on whole wheat bread, fresh strawberries, cherry tomatoes, choice of yogurt or cheese, and pretzel rods, and a drink. Somewhere in the mist of all the chaos of me shooing kids out of the kitchen because they were trying to sneak in boxes of "Crunch N' Munch" and bags of pepperoni into their lunch boxes - it happened. The mother of all tantrums. I had looked in my daughter's back pack and her homework for the entire week was shoved into the bottom of her backpack, all crumpled up, and undone! I through a fit. She had shown me last week's papers all week which were finished and I fell for it! I had no clue she was not doing her homework all week. So I politely informed her that she would come home and sit at the table until all three days (short week this week) of her homework was complete. I then told her she could escort herself to bed directly after homework and dinner. No playing today. There would be no time because she saved herself three hours of homework. I made sure she realized this was a direct result of her own actions.

And so it began. That high-pitched-tornado siren-quality scream-that-has-probably-slowly-aided-to-the-process-of-me-going-deaf-over the past few years-scream. The scream of all screams that the Hubby and I first heard that very first day she came home from the hospital. We were blissfully napping and the tornado siren went off right next to our heads. We sat up with a "Wha--?" on our lips and confusion in our eyes before we realized the high-pitched scream from hell was coming from our brand-spanking-new sweet Princess. Yes, that scream that we thought was past us as she gets older. But no, apparently she still pulls it from the depths of her little seven-year-old toes and unleashes it on the unsuspecting when things don't go her way. I managed to get the boys lined up by the door and I had to go and get right by my daughter's ear to let her know either she walked out to our vehicle to go to school or I was carrying her like a sack of potatoes to our vehicle. Since all her friends could see that, she decided against not going to school today and followed us out to our vehicle. I somehow managed to get them to school in one piece and quietly. I was thanking the stars when I pulled away from the school in blissful silence.

Ah, what was I thinking? I celebrated too soon. I ran into the grocery store for one item and unfortunately for me, the check out line was lined with bags of jelly beans. Only the evil Grandparents and Childless Managers or Managers whose children are grown so they enjoy torturing the parents of the young would line check out lanes with hundreds of bags of jelly beans. Naturally my youngest clamped onto a bag of the evil little sugary pebbles and wouldn't let go. I pried it from his determined little fingers and managed to make it up to the express line after they opened it. He has quite the little scream hiding down there in his toes, too, let me tell you. He screamed while I paid, he screamed while I carried him out. I set him down 30 feet from our vehicle because my arms were breaking and I told him to walk to it and get in. Nothing doing. I had to go over and heave him into my wary arms and I politely informed him he would need to sit on the "I need a break" stool when he got home. He said "NO!" and got down and walked.

I thought I was finished then. I thought my day would go smoother. But no, the fates had one more treat for me up their sleeves. Fate starred me in my very own trash bag commercial. You know the one. The one where the housewife picks up the trash bag out of the trash can and all of the trash falls out the bottom of the bag. Yeah, that one. Only my trash bag held out until I was standing right next to the big can outside, then it gave up. Right next to the freaking trash can. So all of those gross leftovers I had just dumped into my bag were now all over my driveway with little bits of dirty cat litter clumped with them. Oh, yuck and double yuck. I managed to clean it up and now I have been enjoying a hot breakfast and a moment of peace.

Well, maybe not so much peace. My youngest has thrown another tantrum while I typed this. Please, offer me the strength of steel and the patience of an angel to get through my life with kids.