Guilty as Charged?

Charges:

• 1 Count of Catching Grill on Fire
  
• 1 Count of Negligence of Husband's Favorite Appliance
  
• 7 Counts of Murder of Hamburger
  
• 1 Count of Lazy Dinner Making
  
• 1 Count Trying to do Too Many Things at Once

Evidence:

murdered hamburgers with "fired" grill and appliance used to cook new hamburgers

Witnesses:

My 2 year old and the huge party going on next door.

Prosecution:

We will prove beyond a preponderance of the evidence that Charlotte did willfully and neglectfully catch the grill on fire while trying to cook hamburgers. The flames and billowing smoke had to have been seen by the entire neighborhood for the ten (maybe even 15) minutes it took to die out.

Despite the fact that she totally burned hotdogs just the week before, she still left the hamburgers cooking while going inside to grab the hamburger buns and check on the fries. I know it is meatism to only give a warning when murdering hotdogs while charging her when murdering hamburgers, but hamburgers? HAMBURGERS? If it had been steak, there might have been a lynching. What a deplorable, deplorable crime.

Before pronouncing your sentence, would you like to address the court?

Me:

I would like to beg for leniency. I had, after all, had all the kids to myself all afternoon on that Saturday. And I had to take them to 3 different stores just an hour previous (in search of ink for my printer), so I was very distracted and a little grouchy and dinner was running late so I was trying to hurry.

Also, once I went outside to check the hamburgers and found the grill on fire, there was not much to do but let it burn itself out. The hamburgers were already doomed. Besides, what could possibly be fit punishment? Never to cook dinn . . . wait a minute. . . I agree, my crime was beyond reason. I am obviously a callous and incapable cook. I think I should be BANNED from ever cooking dinner again.

. . .What do you mean, "case dismissed"?

P.S.

If my sister and her husband ever ask you to play dress up and pose for pictures for a funny (and it did turn out funny) family project, think carefully, no matter how many Reese's Peanut Butter Miniatures they've wheedled you with.

What I Learned this Week

I am pretty sure I have reached maximum brain capacity- for every thing I learn, I lose some other tidbit I used to know. Unfortunately, I keep learning new things. Here is a list of what I have learned this week:

1. Don’t use your good scrapbooking scissors to cut fake flowers off their stem. You might do OK with individual cuts, but you will get impatient and try to cut the thick middle stem and then you will be replacing your good scrapbooking scissors.
   
2. Swim diapers were not meant to be worn all day. If you put them on in the morning and then don’t change them for . . . a while . . . they will be really, really, REALLY nasty.



3. Never leave table (even for a minute) when a curious 4 year old and spagetti are involved. (you'll have to enlarge the picture to get the full effect)
   


4. If you have a child who recently became castless (why was there a cast? Check here), you might want to give that limb an extra bit of sunscreen. Otherwise your child will look funny with only one arm out of all his limbs bright red.
   
   
5. If you have a balcony above some bushes, you might want to periodically peer over the edge. Especially if you have an almost 4 and 2 year old who like to drop things. That may be the only way you will see what has been dropped. This is very useful if you have been trying to find a sheet you know you washed but can’t seem to find to fold and put away. Or a favorite toy. Or a laundry basket. Or an empty jar of nuts, black rubber ring (old weather stripping?), or a couple of towels.
   
6. Tangier outlets have a ton of printable coupons online. If you are buying new school clothes for up to 6 kids, you might want to check it out. We’re talking Old Navy, Reebock, Rue 21, Rockport, Eddie Bauer, percent off any one item anywhere in the mall, etc.
   
7. On an unrelated note, 11 year old girls will think they have died and gone to heaven if you take them into Rue 21.
   
8. On another unrelated note, don’t let your husband take calls while driving to an outlet mall. One will probably be from work and might mention there are already 5 hour waits and he might have to turn the 3 hour shopping trip into a 1 hour trip because, believe it or not, ED doctors (at least mine) abhor anything over a one hour wait and want to go in early to help out.
   


9. On yet another unrelated note, if you are used to 6 kids- and have taken them clothes shopping before by yourself- you and your husband will be able to get 2 outfits per child, new school shoes for all of them, and new dress shoes for husband in a one hour span (that includes dressing rooms with multiple items to try on and choose from). The only thing that has to be cut out is potty breaks (sorry Kirsti).
   


10. If you buy a PS3 and don’t set it up, because you don’t need another video game system (see here why we own the unwanted PS3- oh wait, I never posted that story. There is no where to check it out, you'll just have to wait) and then give in 2.5 months later at the insistence of your husband, your 10 year old boy will try to spend every waking (and sleeping) moment trying to play said PS3.
    

The only question left is what knowledge have I lost by learning these things? I’ll would tell you, but I can’t. You see, I’ve forgotten them.

Perfect Summer Nights

Cooling evening air, parents sitting around pleasantly chatting, whistles blowing amidst formations, runs, and plays . . .

Ever since I was a young middle school kid in band, I have loved attending football games. (I don't like watching them on TV as it can't capture the complete atmosphere.) This year my boys decided to try their hands at the game. Luckily the field is just a couple blocks down the road from our house so we can all walk over and enjoy the practices. As I sat with Peter and the other kids, it truly felt like a perfect summer evening. Here is what we all were doing:

Ryan and Ethan learning different football positions. Although my through-college-football-playing husband never pushed them to play, he was thrilled when Ethan expressed a desire. Ryan was more than happy to follow along. Still careful to not add undue pressure from Dad, he didn't make a huge deal about them wanting to sign up. So how could I tell he was excited? Check out their brand new "practice clothes", complete with new shoes, cups, and Ryan's sports goggles.

Matthew and Dad taking a break from watching practice.

How every almost 4 year old should be dressed in summer: red and blue Superman swimsuit, green Hulk T-shirt that is so old it is "supposed" to be worn only to bed, chocolate chip cookie covered face, and hair still messed up from swim lessons that morning. Do you want to mess with Joseph?

My tomboy. Really she is. She just sometimes likes to carry around dolls in a purse, too.

Look at his interest in the practice. He really is thrilled they wanted to play. It was a lot of fun to sit and watch practice and ask Peter stories about when he was in little league football (and see how much he enjoyed his football days).

Remember my rant about puberty? Well that is my shirt Elise is wearing. Hmph!

On gardening (I hate it)

You might say I have a love/hate relationship with gardening. But you would be wrong. There is no love for gardening residing anywhere inside of me. Sure I can enjoy seeing a pretty garden, but it is the same way I admire a weight lifter; sure it looks nice, but I have no desire to do what it takes to get there. None, what-so-ever.

My feelings toward gardening are deeply, deeply engrained. My parent’s idea of “landscaping” was to mow over any garden areas until they were just grass. And by grass I mean weeds that vaguely resemble a lawn. They have now moved to Texas where people are encouraged to have “dry landscapes”.

(A short story to illustrate my point) When we were first married, my husband, having spent many of his developing years with a large garden and canning expert mother, was determined to help out my gardening deprived family. He actually planted a garden in the dirt spot my parents had set apart as a “garden area”. As we came to visit often, he realized he was also in charge of weeding and caring for said garden. The next year, my parents planted a huge shed that completely covered the garden area and my husband took the hint.

I suppose it is needless to say (but I still will), Peter has always been in charge of our landscape and garden. I don’t think I have ever used our lawn mower. Like I said, no desire. Not even a spark of interest. This leads us to our present situation.

We leased our house from a former gardener. The yard is full of little (and sometimes big) gardening areas. If you don’t believe me, look here- there are pictures of the yard scattered in the other house photos. And it has been a few years since the owners have been up to the task of keeping up with said garden. Translation: there is a lot of work to be done in the yard. This move correlated with Peter working CRAZY hours. Translation: unless he stops requiring even a little sleep, there is no time for him to garden.

At first this didn’t bother me. Like I said, I don’t care. But the weeds were beginning to interfere with my view of the ocean. We’re talking taller than my youngest children (and in some cases my older children, too). For several weeks I tried living in denial. When Peter has some free time, he’ll get to it. I wouldn’t want to take away his joy in gardening, right? But, alas, I have now realized that Peter has less “free time” than even I. And when he does, he is more interested in exciting things like paying the bills or that sleep thing I mentioned. So if I don’t want the kids swallowed in a jungle of milk weeds, I was going to have to tackle the landscaping on my own.

(Another illustrative short story) In our first house, in a moment of insanity, I decided to weed out this tiny patch beside our backdoor. When I was finished my horrified neighbor came over to tell me I had just pulled out all the strawberry plants. I have no way of discerning plants from weeds. Never-the-less, I have decided to try my hand again. I pull anything too tall, thorny, or grassy looking. If it comes out too easily, I assume I have pulled a “real” flower and try to avoid pulling more plants that look the same.

And I still hate gardening: I hate sweating (which explains my related issue with exercising), I hate getting dirty, and I hate kneeling and pulling and hurting my back. But I like my view and I dislike prickly thorns and most days I don’t want my kids swallowed in a jungle. So I have been going out to garden every day. Maybe when Peter sees my “progress”, he will decide to find some free time SOMEWHERE and take over the duties. Otherwise, I am going to start seeing if I can feasibly grow mowable grass in raised planter boxes.

PS- When I was looking at the pictures of the house, I saw that the weeds and flowers had yet to appear in the yard. Here is an example of what it looks like now (I already pulled a lot of the really tall plants- if you look close you can see a pile of milk weed plants waiting to be put into a bag- but you'll get the idea)

Before and After

We finally did the deed. My baby is now a little boy. Yes, those pictures were really taken 2 days apart, not 2 years. A complete different child? Lets compare:

Baby Matthew

Kid Matthew

Sweet angel doesn't know his own strength.

"Hey, you need to be nice. Go get in time out."

Likes to drag you over and point at what he wants.

"If you don't use your words, I can't know what you want."

Poor kid accidentally spilled his cup, let me get you some more.

"Go get a towel, if you spill it you clean it."

You get the idea. I knew that I would continue to treat Matthew as a baby as long as he kept that hair, and I knew he was getting a little too old to be totally babied. Still, when I looked at the pictures I took before the hair cut, I almost cried for my baby. The difference in our treatment and his reactions since the cut has amazed me. He truly is taking his place as "one of the kids." It made me wonder, how much of parenting is really a matter of perspective?

You have to SEE THIS

Thunderstorms have become a favorite in our house. I have been wanting to get some pictures what they look like from our bedroom. I need to work on my lightening picture taking technique (try that Fox in Socks!), but this is what I got tonight:

Sorry about the blinking light in the video clip, I will work on that too. I tried opening the door, but it was too windy (and wet and cold). After 76 photos taken to get 7 useable, I realized a video clip might work better.

Am I really THAT old?

For a while now, I've known that puberty has been bearing down on me like an out of control locomotive. As it has screamed ever closer, I've felt like the innocent maiden tied to the tracks. Someone help me!! Well, this summer I am finally getting run over. The erratic mood swings, the changing body, the uncomfortable conversations. I've been through it all this summer. But it is worse, far worse. I am losing.

What am I losing, exactly? My sanity has been long gone. I am losing something much more qualitative. It all started a couple of weeks ago when my daughter accidentally (thanks a lot Tami!) discovered her feet are nearly my size. My shoes are no longer my own. I get to (unwillingly) share. "Where are those tan heels?" I wondered last Sunday. I guess my wondering is proof of my lost sanity. I should have known I would find them, not lost, but residing on my daughter's almost large enough feet. Take a look next Sunday, you'll see her wobbling down the isle (hopefully not in my black heels this time).

But it gets worse. I found out last Saturday that I have to shop in the junior section of stores now!! For obvious vanity issues I have avoided that section of store since my eldest was born, going there only as a last resort if the "older" section really only had shirts an octogenarian could love and even then desperately looking for anything remotely flattering that comes in sizes above "I want to show off my body". No more "Girls 7-14" sections for me (actually that is wrong, Kirsti is just about that size so I guess I am still stuck there, too). Don't get me started on the trips to the "lingerie" and/or "feminine hygiene" sections of stores; you thought going for yourself was embarrassing!! Shirts in Juniors fit her better, almost as though they were designed with her size in mind instead of mine.

At least the shirts I own are still too big. I feel torn on this. Should I be glad if she wants to borrow my clothes (yea, fashion sense!) or upset (Hey, I was going to wear that!!)? Hopefully an outcome I don't have to worry about. Ever. Because if she fits my shirts, it means she has developed the body to do so, and she hasn't nursed 6 kids.

But that still isn't all. Her media choices are developing, too. She watched the Dark Knight, and thought it was "Awesome". I know, I told everyone it was WAY to disturbing for anyone under 17, but my husband felt differently. I catch her watching "John and Kate plus 8" and "What not to Wear" more often than "Hannah Montana" (I might have inadvertently blocked MTV, I don't think she knows it exists yet anyway). And the other day she was listening to my music channel (the one I listen to if I happen to be sick of talk radio). "I just like the music on Flight 26 better than XM-kids." STOP, STOP, STOP!! And guess what book she started reading. Hasn't put it down all day, already half way through. Anne of Green Gables, you guess? Maybe Little House on the Prairie. No, Twilight is the first book to really capture her interest all summer. I think I am doomed.

Is there a light at the end of this tunnel? No, those are the 5 other train cars, relentlessly following behind the first. People thought I was crazy having them so close when they were toddlers! I guess I am neither "innocent" nor a "maiden", so there is nothing left to do but grin and bear it, hoping I'm not completely flattened by the ordeal. I fear my years with teenagehood are going to be worse than 12 years of diapers. Did I mention that my son is reading Eragon and blushing at underwear ads? AHHHHHHH!!

Swim Lessons

We finally signed our kids up for swim lessons. Elise is 11 1/2 after all. The town had them late in the summer because the high school (where the lessons are held) was getting some work done earlier. Anyway, since they are not new to swimming (we went a lot in NC) but have no technical training, the lady in charge and I had to guess at their levels. It seems to me that they are really getting stretched in their classes, but I guess that is a good thing. Better to be the one trying to catch up then be bored, right? I hope so. Anyway, I asked them all what they liked about their very first day of real swim lessons and this was their response (I "channeled" Matthew's response for him!):

Trek (a story by Elise)

(Sorry this took so long to post, I told Elise if she wrote the story of their trip I would post it and this is what she has finished. The captions I am going to "make" Peter write, we'll see if they ever show up. There are 44 slides in the slide show, so consider this fair warning!!)

Story about: Elise And Peter

Day 1
I had the privilege of going on trek (a reenactment of the pioneers walk to Utah) for 3 days. Even though you must be 12 my dad was suppose to be a captain of a company and he said he would go if I could so they agreed and I got to go.

The first thing we did to set up for trek (when we had every thing ready and were actually at the starting area ) was to find out who are family was and what cart we had to pull.
My family’s cart was the martins. We headed out on a rode we thought that we didn’t have to leave the road. Then we turned left. That’s when the pain began. We Saw the most Hard or so we thought thing of trek. It was a Field full of Tree logs (thin not thick but hundreds of them)

And we hulled the carts over them. My family was hesitant to go the way everyone else went, so we had People search the area. And it turns out it was the way to go and there was only 1 really hard part 2 huge trees fell in the way. So we had to lift our carts over them. So my dad called all the young men (by this time the first group and the second group had turned around because of all the mud. They were covered knee down in mud) To help lift up 12, 90 pound carts. Over 2 Huge logs. My family went first And we had a lot of help but after or cart some people went away. So me 2 girls and 2 boys stayed to help. Me and the 2 girls Shelby and Angel started laying out sticks so that the mud wouldn’t get them slowed down more and the 2 boys Jared and Alahondro.( The rest went ahead to take a brake and comfort those people who we already helped pull there carts over the logs.) When every one was over and rested we started pulling and pushing again. We passed many cool things like a tree growing on a rock (*Shown below) and we pulled through Mud that came up to our knees. (because it had rained the day before) and we weren’t really on a path just lots of mud. We avoided obstacles and sang silly songs like old McDonald , Row Row Row your boat, and My bonnie lies over the ocean only pioneer edition.* Then We finally Made it to the half way Mark of Day 1( We toke a potty break) after we filled up our Water bottles, had a snack, and went to the bathroom we started again. We walked maybe 2 miles and we met up with the “angel of Deceiving” not knowing he was and he showed us a short cut and we decided to take it and we started and we met the trader man. He said that instead of turning left we should have gone Right so we had to pull back up the Hill and then We Made it to camp.

Matthew is WHOLE, but I am in PIECES

Well, Matthew finally got his cast off Thursday. He did a good job and never used the cast as a weapon (on purpose). It never really bothered him and as the weeks passed I let him do more things (like wade in the ocean and play in the sand).

On a side note, you may have noticed a lot of pictures lately of Matthew in his diaper. There is a simple explanation: he has spent a lot of the summer wearing nothing but his diaper and I snap the picture not realizing he is once again undressed. There are a few reasons for this:

1. Shirts were hard to get over his cast
2. I am lazy
3. He gets clothes dirty REALLY fast anyway
4. It makes it easier to change his diaper and he is one of those goes all day long kind of babies (I only recently found out some babies poop on a regular schedule!!)
5. Before the cast he was quite proficient at taking off his own clothes (and diaper).

Anyway, now that #1 on the list is gone, maybe you will see more dressed pictures of Matthew. Although #2 and #5 are pretty strong reasons to not hold your breath.

After his cast was removed he was a little confused. At first he just held his arm limply on his lap, sometimes picking it up with his other hand and letting it drop. By the end of the night, he was carrying toys around with it, but kept it bent in his cast position. But the next day he was using it near normal. The skin is still a little flaky, but I am VERY grateful that he is back to normal and I don't have to think twice about throwing him in the tub or let him run out into the ocean~ I was pretty low on plastic grocery bags for the last month.

I, on the other hand, have had one of "those" weeks. The ones where you just don't feel like doing anything. I finally started to feel better today and got some housework done.
Fill-and-run-your-dishwasher-twice kind of housework. What-is-THAT-under-the-couch kind of housework. You know the type I'm talking about.

I must not be completely back together, though, because when I went to get the chicken out of the microwave for dinner, I found out I just defrosted empty space for 20 minutes (enough chicken to feed my family takes FOREVER to defrost). Luckily Peter called on his way home from work, because now we are having $1 McDonald's sandwiches for dinner. And if you look closely at this post, you will see that I wasn't making dinner until 8:00 at night anyway. What a good mom I am this week!