Cattle call

Dear Kroger Marketing Department,

No mom wants to be "Moooo'd" at when they are buying chocolate milk. Or yogurt. Or anything, really. Whoever had the great idea that when the dairy case door opens, a loud "MOO" should be triggered should be fired immediately.

Seriously.

Economic relief

We don't give our kids an allowance. There are several reasons: they can't keep track of money, they don't really do anything to earn money (it doesn't even work as a bribe, we've tried), and anyway, I think that kids should help out around the house as part of a family - we buy them enough crap for free, I think they can carry their clothes to their dressers without getting a dollar.


They would just use the money to buy weird stuff anyway. I mean, I know all kids are suckers for commercials - but mine want things that normally wouldn't appeal to kid. Last night Noah asked me if he could have $29.95. What for? He wants to buy me a Christmas present he saw on TV...a genuine Barack Obama commemorative coin. It's gold plated. Now, this IS a big improvement from the last thing he wanted to buy me off the television - the Lipozene guaranteed-to-burn-all-your-body-fat pills - but... yeah. We have to parental block QVC and HSN - forget about violence and sex, my kids can't be trusted with the temptation of eight beautiful plates depicting the covered bridges of Amish country!

God forbid they had to buy their own food, they would eat at CiCi's Pizza every night. I get the appeal - "But Mom, it's UNLIMITED pizza!! ALL you can EAT!!" but the food is horrible. I can buy them 4 frozen Kroger pizzas for $2 and make some break-n-bake brownies and it is a gourmet meal compared to CiCi's. We have an AWESOME pizza buffet practically within walking distance of our house (like I'd know walkng distance. It's farther than the driveway, so that makes it driving distance). The difference is that DaVinci's doesn't have 153 crazy kids running around, bumping into your table, spilling their food on you, pushing you out of the way in line.... in fact, I would think that my kids would hate CiCi's because the whole time we're there I am giving them the "if you EVER act like that in public, we will never leave the house again until you move out" speech. Maybe the environment makes them feel superior to other heathen children, but all it does is put me in a bad mood. The day will come that some white-trash parent will kick my ass at CiCi's for telling their kid to shut up and sit down.

I bet they wouldn't be begging to go back after that.

History is made!

What a great time to be an American! Our family is so excited for this new era in our country.

Good morning!

Ethan and Zach get up every morning as if it's their first day of school. Ever.
EVERY, SINGLE day this is what happens:me: "Boys, get up."
5 minutes pass...........
Me: "Boys, are you up?"
"YES."
"What are you doing?"
(mumble, mumble)
"Get dressed and brush your teeth, then come down and eat."
10 minutes later, Ethan comes down in his underwear. (*Luke, Grace and Noah are already eating breakfast, dressed, teeth brushed, shoes on and tied....)
"Where are your clothes?"
"I wanted to get my shoes." (WTF???)
"Ethan, did you brush your teeth?"
"Oh, no I forgot. Hey, mom? Can I wear my baseball jersey?""Go back upstairs, get dressed and brush your teeth. You can't wear your jersey!! You just had a game last night! It's filthy!! You can put your shoes on last. Zach, what are you doing?"
"Getting dressed."
-->Ethan, meanwhile "Mom, can I watch Sportscenter just for a minute to see the scores when I come back down?
"Zach - brush your teeth before you come down. Ethan - if you have time. You still have to eat and get dressed."
5 minutes later, Zach comes down in a tank top and underwear, carrying some pants that MAY belong to Sam.
"Why aren't you dressed?"
"I can't un-button my pants."
" Zach those aren't your pants. You can't wear a tank top, it's too chilly. Put on a white t-shirt under the tank top, find some of your own pants and did you brush?"
"What?" (what is this you say: "toothbrushing"? I know nothing of the brushing the teeth?")
"Did you brush your teeth???"
"No, I forgot.""Go back upstairs, brush your teeth, put on a tshirt, get some pants out of your drawer and come eat. You're going to miss the bus.""OK!!" Then he acts all crazy, fake rushing upstairs like a brat.
"Mom!!!!""Yes, Ethan."
"Do you have any pants for me?"
"Ethan, you have a million pairs - you just took them up yesterday. Find some pants, brush your teeth and come eat. You're going to miss the bus."
"Can you take us?""NO!!! Get ready, Ethan."
Zach and Ethan come down, 9 times out of 10 at least one of them has not brushed his teeth, and Ethan will say "Can I just use your toothbrush and do it down here?" Usually Zach's pants aren't buttoned - because they are Lukes - and his shirt is on backwards or inside out and Ethan has on some crazy outfit (because OSU shirts match EVERYTHING). Then they stand in front of the pantry staring at the shelves, trying to use mind power to make a hot pizza appear for breakfast.
"Did you eat yet?""You don't have anything I like.""There are fruit bars, there's fruit, yog -
"I don't like yogurt."
"Ethan does.""I DON'T WANT YOGURT!!! GOSH, MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"THERE ARE A THOUSAND THINGS IN THERE THAT YOU LIKE! ZACH YOU CAN NOT JUST EAT A TWIZZLER FOR BREAKFAST. PICK SOMETHING. YOU ARE GOING TO MISS THE BUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
................................ . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
"You don't have to scream at us."
"Ok, just EAT. "
"Did you sign my agenda?"
"Yes, Ethan. Zach, get a snack while you're in there." (*meanwhile, Ethan doesn't believe that I signed, so he is in the foyer, BAREFOOT, rummaging through his bag to check his agenda.)
"I'm not hungry.""ZACH! You are going to be at snack time. Get something."
"Can I take the rest of the enchiladas?""No Zach! you know you can't! Now. pick. something."
"Mom, can you help me with my homework?""ETHAN ARE YOU KIDDING ME????? I TOLD YOU BEFORE YOUR GAME YOU HAD TO HAVE YOUR HOMEWORK DONE? WHAT IS IT?"
"GOSH, JUST FORGET IT!!!! I'LL DO IT ON THE BUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (mumbling: you never help me. you just read with the quads and you said you would help with my homework now I have to do it on the bus I thought you were going to play catch with me but you never have time and I don't get to play catch with anybody and you said I could watch sportscenter to see the scores and now I can't and you promised you were going to help me)
"Let me see the paper.""Never mind, oh!! I finished it at school. I forgot. What can I get for breakfast? Did you make anything? (as if) Do you have any socks? Oh, and Mom?"
"yes Ethan?"
"Did you know that A-Rod has already hit 52 home runs this year? He is way better than Grady Sizemore, I don't even know why you like him....."
Zach is still standing in front of the pantry pretending it is the door to McDonalds.
"Zach."
"Hmmmm?"
"Zach, did you get something?"
"Yes."
"What did you have?""I had an uncrustable."
"ZACH!!! No, you didn't! You haven't moved."
"OK!! I'll make one."
"The bus is going to be here in 5 minutes. Take this granola bar and eat it outside."
"Ok. Do you have any socks? I can't find my other shoe, either."
Meanwhile....
Ethan: "WHAT???? 5 MINUTES?? AHHHHHH!! I'M NOT READY, WHERE ARE MY SHOES, WHERE IS MY FOOTBALL, CAN I TAKE IT? CAN I USE YOUR TOOTHBRUSH? JUST FORGET IT, DO YOU HAVE ANY GUM? MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!! I DON'T HAVE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CAN'T YOU TURN ON SPORTSCENTER WHILE I PUT MY SHOES ON?? CAN'T YOU TAKE US???????? OH NO, I FORGOT TO EAT BREAKFAST!!!!!!!!!!!"
Then I beat my head against the wall for 20 minutes.

Chores

I hate housework. It's true, and it's unfortunate. People who have 6 kids should either be a little bit OCD about cleaning, or be rich enough to afford someone else to do it for you - alas, I am neither. I especially despise multi-step chores - i.e, rinse dishes, load dishwasher, unload dishwasher; carry dirty clothes to the basement, sort, wash, dry, fold, put away. I have managed to delegate portions of these to other members of my family, but they are just as enthusiastic as I am about housework, so other steps are usually added - nag, yell, threaten, punish, and that kind of defeats the purpose of delegating.

Our latest attempt at coercing the little angels into helping out is a revolving chore chart. Basically, they have one different chore per day, and the chores rotate through the kids during the week. Apparently my kids are no longer motivated by stickers and stars. This seriously pisses me off. I mean, one lousy chore and they are not going to do it because the reward is not great enough - what.ever. Is it really too much to ask that they pick up the empty juice boxes all over the living room once a week? I assure you that I did not throw my juice box on the floor when I was done with it, so it's not as if they are cleaning up after me or something.

To add insult to injury, they do things to intentionally make more chores for me. Like leaving the silverware drawer open when they get a spoon for their cereal, so then Sam can't reach the chocolate milk they left out but he tries anyway and it spills in the drawer all over the clean silverware. Or putting clean clothes in the dirty laundry because they "don't have room in their drawer for them". Stealing my velcro rollers and sticking them all over the dog (not really another chore, but annoying nonetheless).

The only solution I can come up with is disposable everything - plates, silverware, clothes, sheets, towels. I don't know how successful it will be, but it will definitely cut out the multi-step business - it's worth a try for that alone.

The Last to Know

Why is it that I never find out about the good stuff until everyone else already knows about it?? I hate missing the bus carrying all the cool kids!

Case in point, my recent obsession with Rachel Maddow on MSNBC. I LOVE HER. She is so smart and funny and adorable... I love her so much that I can tolerate the Keith Olberman filling in the Rachel sandwich every night (three hours of MSNBC is an awful lot and sometimes his point is lost in his endless rambling). I'm starting to think that I will even look her up on talk radio just to get a little more Rachel in my day (I hate talk radio, especially AM talk radio - it makes me feel like I should be driving around in a 30 year old car in the desert, with the windows down because there's no a/c, getting all dusty, smoking cigarettes and drinking yesterday's coffee). Poor Heather, the only time she can watch tv during the week and I'm monopolizing the tv to watch my crush.

Then there's the Twilight series. Granted, when I first read the reviews, I didn't think it would be for me. A "tamer, sexless vampire novel aimed at a teen audience" - um, no thanks, I can just borrow the kids Judy Moody books if I need something tame and sexless. But, not wanting to be left standing on the side of the road to Coolville, I broke down and bought the first one....and proceeded to read all 498 pages in one night. The subject matter is not anything I am generally interested in, but she is a great writer! It's kind of like Harry Potter - I avoided those for as long as I could but eventually I drank the kool-aid and enjoyed it.

So, I'm ordering the books one at a time so that I can make them last longer and I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm going to have to start tivo-ing Rachel. But ONLY so I can get some housework done. If I don't do some laundry soon, my kids are going to have to wear their jammies to school. Although, I'm sure their teachers would understand if I told them I had been obsessively watching Rachel Maddow and reading the Twilight series.

How Now Brown Cow

On the way to soccer tonight, Luke, Noah and I passed some brown cows. Someone made a comment about chocolate milk, which I immediately shot down (just keepin' it real), and Noah asks, "How does the grass turn into milk anyway?"
Since I had no idea, I just said "Did you know that only girl cows give milk? It's not like on Barnyard where the boys have udders too.
As usual, the boys were impressed by my vast knowledge and said "Are you sure?"
I said "Of course, it's just like mommys who breast feed their babies. After you have a baby, your body makes milk so you can feed the baby."
Noah: "Breast feed? What's breast mean? Do you have one?"
Me: "YES!! You know, breasts, boobs!"
Both boys are looking at me in horror...
"I thought you guys saw Aunt Kristi breast feeding Curtis.....You've never heard of that...um...?" I was regretting the turn this was taking...
"You didn't do that to us did you??!!????!!"
"Well, yeah. ... and Ethan too...."
"WHAT????"

...silence...


Noah: "If all of this is true, why do some boys have boobies too? Like that guy at the pool this summer? Because he ONLY had on trunks and he definitely had boobies and he was a boy. Does he have milk?"

And that is why Heather drives to soccer practice.

We're Going on Lockdown

Today I found these in my washer:

I watch enough prison shows to know that these are the makings of a shank. There's gonna be a shakedown, baby.

Kid 6 vs Kid 1

Today Heather and I were talking about how different we are with Sam at 2.5 versus Ethan (child 1) at the same age. Obviously, we are more laid back – over the years we have learned how resilient kids are (thank God). It really is more than that, though.
For example, today we noticed that Sam had something that looked like a raisin in his ear. Which was weird for two reasons: I can’t tell you the last time I bought raisins (actually it was at Christmas for some fancy thing I was going to make, so that we could start some kind of tradition, but the kids saw the box of raisins and started screaming and running so I threw them away) and Sam only eats chicken nuggets, pizza, chips, cinnamon toast and occasionally dog food. So we brought him into the house and held him down while I dug out the not-raisin from his ear with a bobby pin. If it had been Ethan at the same age, we certainly would have been at the ER. In fact, we probably would have called 911. No lie. Today, that just can’t happen because it violates our strict "No ER on the weekends" rule, and our kids are all well aware that if they are sick or injured between 5 pm on Friday and 8 am on Monday, we will be treating them at home. Look, I know it seems strict, but if you’ve ever been to Children’s Hospital on a Saturday afternoon you know it’s the right thing for everyone.
Another thing is toys. All of Ethan’s toys were highly educational, we had an appropriate ethnic blend, and all parts were rigorously tested in a tube exactly the same size as a toddler’s esophagus to make sure they were non-chokable. The other day Sam was playing with two decorative letters (O and V from a Valentine’s Day decoration), a box of Icy-Hot back patches, an empty prescription bottle, and a tiny Lego Star Wars figure that would have TOTALLY slid right through the esopho-tube. He was taking V and Luke Skywalker for a walk off the side of the box, "Come on wetter, wet’s go for a walk! Oh NOOOOOOO, cwaaaaashhhh!" This went on for probably 20 minutes, which was exactly how much time I needed to pluck my eyebrows and catch up on email. I’m taking those letters and Wuke Skywalker everywhere we go!