Good Times

Tonight Jimmy and I had a total lapse in judgement when we took our kids to the worst Wal-Mart in town, two days before Halloween. It was a zoo. What were we thinking? And isn't it funny how when one parent is totally freaking out (me) the other parent is laughing and enjoying themselves even though their children are in everybody's way and are slinging around plastic pumpkins and making WAY too much noise (Jimmy). You seem to always balance each other out that way. He was right. No one really noticed or cared. To end the trip I took the kids to the car while Jimmy stood in a ridiculously long line, and Cash peed all over his (and part of my) foot. Yes, I was letting him pee in the Wal-Mart parking lot against our tire. We don't refer to it as "the ghetto Wal-Mart" without doing our part to contribute to its reputation.

So it was a crazy ride home and another zoo trying to get everyone washed up and in bed. Libby can be extremely loud but at the same time quite sensitive to the noise. While we were out running our errands, she was crying (loudly, I might add) in the car because Cash would not talk to her. Then, while they were eating a quick snack before bed, she says to me..."I don't like how everyone talks. I wish this house was calm and no one had any mouths except me."

Well, she's right that we're not always calm. Yet still we seem to escape without too much injury. We had our first stitches this week though, when Cash fell off a chair and hit his head just right on some brick steps we have in our closed in carport. He was a good sport about it and Jimmy said he bonded with him, since he brought him to the doctor and afterward took him to Taco Bell to eat. If you want to bond with Jimmy, eat at Taco Bell with him. Even my dad has done it. They still tell the story. Crazy shopping...plastic pumpkins...peeing...stitches...Taco Bell... Good times.


Another Quote and a Naked Kid

Since I recently brought up movie quotes...one of my favorites is from Runaway Bride. Joan Cusak's character says to Julia Robert's character, as she is about to marry and is nervous..."Your veil is not attacking you!"

This week I kept hearing in my head, "Your house is not attacking you!" It was just really busy and I felt like I couldn't stop handing out snacks and picking up random stuff. I've already blogged about the impossibility to stay ahead of housework before, so I won't revisit it, but I needed that voice in my head to tell me that my house was NOT attacking me and it was just one of those weeks.

The kids, with the change of weather (yes!) have started riding their bikes in the driveway. I have been asked to move the van multiple times this week so they can have full use of the downhill slope. Our downhill actually goes towards the house so it is impossible for them to roll into the street. This is fortunate because I'm sure someone would have rolled into the street by now if that were not the case.

Cash is having a little trouble making it to the toilet recently and I'm getting tired of the laundry. When it gets to the end of the day sometimes he just runs around naked. It is quite interesting the way a three year old's nakedness turns it up a notch. Somehow when they are naked they think it is okay to run at full speed, yell at full volume, and totally ignore you.

Last night Cash was naked after dinner (it was almost bath time) and Jackson went out front to ride his bike. Cash followed and I just didn't have the energy, after three days of my house attacking me, to stop him. I went out in a few minutes to find him riding the little plastic football with the base of the handles quite strategically placed. I got the camera. I couldn't resist. I got some shots. Then he got on the tricycle, same story. (Meanwhile, cars are driving by, the neighbor is outside, people are walking their dogs, and I'm way too over the "look at us we're white trash" line to care.) So I just wanted to get one more shot, of his naked little booty while riding the tricycle. But of course, he stood up and turned the trike around. I said, "Cash, I wanted to see your booty." So he says, "Okay!" and takes both his hands and spreads his cheeks apart. I guess he wanted me to check and see if he'd wiped good enough. It was totally obscene. I snapped a picture. Jimmy said, without even seeing the picture, "DELETE THAT!" It really was over the top and inappropriate. I didn't delete it. Yes, I'm admitting to disobeying my husband right here for the whole world to see. I'm sure I'll delete it eventually, but it was just too funny to erase immediately. I will of course not post it here but let me tell you it is just as "I can't believe he did that" as it sounds. With him smiling over his shoulder and everything.

Why, when I ask this child to "Go wash your hands and face" do I have to remind him 3,000 times, but when I ask for a picture of his rear end he goes way above and beyond the call of duty? Nakedness, I guess. It is his super power. It heightens his senses and gives him super specific obedience. I wish. If this were true, he'd be naked all the time! When it was time for him to come inside I literally had to stop his wheels and raise my voice he was enjoying his naked joy ride so much. I've got a new quote for the bulletin board in my brain..."Your naked three year old is not attacking you!"



*I'm copying this definition from a dictionary. A paperback Oxford I can hold in my hand and smell with my nose. I'm not getting the definition online. On purpose. Get out a book once in while all you techies out there.

sol•i•tude n. 1 state of being solitary. 2 lonely place. 1) aloneness, isolation, seclusion; loneliness, remoteness. 2) emptiness, wilderness, desert island.

This definition sounds pretty depressing, right? Who wants to be in a lonely place? Who wants to feel remoteness and emptiness? Who wants to be by themselves on a desert island?

I DO!!

All day I couldn't get this word out of my head. Solitude. Solitude. Solitude. It must be around here somewhere, I'm thinking. I've just got to find it! It's not in the junk drawer, it's not under the couch, it hasn't been put through the washing machine, and I'm pretty sure Penelope hasn't eaten it. I just can't seem to grab hold of this simple noun. Solitude.

In my world it just doesn't exist. Or maybe Penelope put it in the trash.

BUT. Can you imagine solitude with no escape? Never having to wait in line for the bathroom or learn patience as you serve everyone shorter than you first? Watching a funny movie with no one to laugh with? Not having a fuzzy baby head to kiss? True solitude would suck.

It's all or nothing for me. Solitude, or so much togetherness you think you might die of too many loud and sticky people touching you. So I'll take the loud sticky togetherness. Goodbye solitude. Into the recycling bin you go. Turn yourself into raw life. It's much more fun. At least that's what I keep telling myself.


When Dad's away

I'm long overdue on a blog and plenty has happened to write about but the time has passed and I'm not in the mood to look back. Jimmy is out of town and I'm braving the home front by myself which, so far, isn't as bad as I'd feared. Don't freak out babe, but I'm sort of afraid I'll like it when you're gone. Like, I can sleep in the middle of the bed, I have one less person to take care of, I have "sole possession of the remote control--very important" (what movie is that from, anyone know? don't look it up!) and here's the big one, I can kick that whole submission thing to the curb for a couple of days. Just joking. I could never survive without Jimmy...proven to me by the feeling I get in my gut when I hear his voice on the phone or when he gets home after being out for a while. I'm truly blessed.

My friend Carey's husband is out of town too and tonight we braved Chick-Fil-A with our 8 children and no husbands. Carey and I can talk till the cows come home but we barely even spoke. We just sat there with mutual feelings. Like, we were both just waiting for it all to be over so we could go home and put everyone to bed and watch TV and forget about life for a couple hours. She wins the prize for the most battle scars from the experience though since she got lemonade poured all over her feet and flip flops. Chick-Fil-A brings me back every time even though it can be crazy on kids eat free nights. I just like feeding the whole family for less than 15 bucks and being served by an eager high schooler in a tie. For someone who is always serving other people food, I'll brave the germs, sticky-ness and mess to just put it all in the trash can and come home to a clean kitchen, letting my tie-wearing friend mop up the lemonade.

The kids have been really cute missing their dad. They keep asking when he is coming home and they want to talk to him on the phone or computer. Today Jackson wrote an email to Jimmy asking him how he was. Then at the end he wrote, "P.S. Send Money!" (Double points to anyone who can tell me where he got this from!)