Dinner Club

I ran across this picture the other day and it made me laugh because I can totally relate. 

(And by "ran across" it, I mean that a friend of a friend of a friend 'liked' it on Facebook)

(Has anyone noticed that the Facebook status feed is really weird now?) 

Anyway, it made me super thankful for my dinner club that I was invited to join at the end of last year. 

I LOVE it! 

Here's how it works: I make dinner on Wednesdays for our family and two other families, and then on Mondays and Tuesdays dinner is delivered to my doorstep by 5:00pm - so that we can scarf it down before DI and other activities. 

Jeff was a little resistant at first, but I think he's onboard now. It's a Brilliant Idea and I'm thankful Lauren and Ashli invited me into their 'club'. 

***

Somewhat related: The other day Blake was whining about how much milk I had given him in his cup. I had only filled it up 3/4 full to lessen the chances of spilling (wishful thinking!).  

I did my best to ignore him - but finally I'd had enough and snapped, "Do you want to DRINK your milk, or do you want to sit here and WHINE about it? 

He didn't even pause to consider the options before he responded.

"I just want to sit here and whine about it." 

Adventures in Grocery Shopping

If you are looking for a blog full of how to's and wonderful recipes, this is probably not the one for you....but if you are looking for a blog that makes you feel better about yourself for doing routine tasks that should be easy -  you're in the right spot.

Last weekend was an extended one because the kids were out of school for Martin Luther King Day.

Side note - apparently the kids these days refer to it as MILK weekend. (I'm proud to say that it only took me thirty seconds to figure out what that meant). 

Anyway, the long weekend without any real plans was topped off by the fact that Jeff has officially entered his "busy time schedule" for the new deal he is working on.

Which meant he worked all weekend long.

On weekends and holidays, my kids tend to be homebodies - moaning and groaning about doing much of anything including fun stuff like going to the park or on a bike ride.

So, I did what any adventurous mom would do.

I loaded them all up and headed to the grocery store. And in a bold attempt at bribery, I promised the kids that they could each buy a new toy.

(With their own money).

We needed only the basics to survive the weekend so we could make a proper sandwich out of something other than carb-balance tortillas and cream cheese.

Three Hundred and Thirty Six Dollars later, I think I think it's safe to say that I am officially the world's worst grocery shopper.

Especially when I am hungry and trying to keep four kids happy.

After I meandered the grocery aisles letting the kids talk me into tons of stuff we didn't need, I found myself standing in the toy aisle examining every. last. Lego. box. that Walmart had in inventory.

The boys were deciding which ones they could afford - and also had the time to tackle over the weekend.

Hayden decided on one that was above a $9.99 sign, but since was an entire Lego city - and had over 40,000 pieces we both knew it was just in the wrong spot. Since Walmart has removed all of those price checker thingies (I know because we walked the entire store looking for one) we just decided to wing it.

That bad decision is how Hayden ended up with his first $70 Lego set and an outstanding $5 loan from Davis.

Finally - FINALLY - we were finished grocery shopping and toy shopping and made our way to the check out line.

And that's when for some reason....A REASON TOTALLY UNEXPLAINABLE....I decided to go through the self-checkout line.

With THREE HUNDRED AND THIRTY SIX DOLLARS worth of groceries and four kids and NO ROOM to put any of the bagged groceries.

Let's just say that the poor soul that has the brutal task of managing the 4 "self-checkout" lanes had to come over to my area no less than 17 times to clear an error. 

About 1/3 of the way through ringing out my own groceries...I think it was one of the times I was waiting for the cashier to come over and examine the "unknown item in the bagging area", I realized what a HUGE mistake the self-checkout line was.

I stopped. I took a deep breath. And I seriously considered voiding my transaction and starting over in a line with a cashier. At that point, it didn't even matter if the cashier took out his teeth. But then I thought better of it and kept on plugging away in an effort to accelerate The Self Check-out Fiasco.

Meanwhile, Davis was trying to help me by scanning items as well....and then putting them back in the basket. Not in a bag. (That probably accounts for thirty dollars or so of my over budget).

Behind me, Hayden was tending to Blake and Nathan.

The once-empty self check-out line quickly began to fill up with customers. Customers who were all looking at Me and My Hoodlums. I felt eyes peering at me from every direction.

At one point, Blake started to squeal and I turned around to see Hayden holding Blake's arms down.

So I stopped scanning (don't worry - Davis  scanned a few more items) and reprimanded Hayden for restraining Blake and making him squeal.

Then I got back to scanning.

That's when I heard "excuse me ma'am....excuse me ma'am....excuse me ma'am" from behind me.

I turned around right in time to see someone we'll call Mr. Mediator Man (another Walmart guest) raising his eyebrows and pointing squarely at Blake, who was whacking Nathan with a loaf of bread that very instant.

The man didn't say anything else. But his raised eyebrows said it all.

He expected me to apologize to Hayden and reprimand Blake before I rang out one more item.

So I stopped scanning again (don't worry - Davis scanned a few more items). I apologized to Hayden and said something in a very stern voice to Blake...if only to appease the long line of self-checkout customers that had suddenly turned into baby-sitters.

----
The moral of the story:
Don't self checkout with more than 3 items.
Don't bribe your kids with toys.
Don't buy something if you don't know the price of it.
Don't go to the grocery store hungry.
Don't go to the grocery store with four kids.
Just don't go to the grocery store.

***Just so no one feels sorry for my boys, 

we also went to the park, went to a play area, 

had three play dates and a sleep-over. 

{Oops}

So, as it turns out, you should never go to Walmart during naptime.

Not even if your new, naive, stay at home logic tells you

 that it will "wear him out" and he will take a really good nap when he gets home.

Not even if you think chicken nuggets and a fancy Suburban

of shopping carts will win him over.

Don't be fooled by the picture above.

Less than five minutes before that picture was taken, Blake was

literally flopping on the ground behind the cart. I could have buckled him

in but I knew that he would not like that and he when he doesn't like something,

he will let the world know.

So I stopped and regrouped.

Just then, Elmo happened to call on my iphone and

so I let Blake take the call.

I got everything under control but  this lady must

have been following behind me for the whole dragging incident

because just as I got him sitting in the seat and happy, she walked by me

and said "Bless Your Heart."

Read that sentence again.

She didn't just think "Bless Your Heart."

or mumble "Bless Your Heart."

She wheeled her cart up next to me.

Stopped.

Looked me in the eyes.

And Said "Bless Your Heart" with a subtle tilt of her head

and knowing nod.

I am sure she was trying to make me feel better. I guess?

But I couldn't help but take it as a big, fat,

"Needs Improvement"

stamp on my goals I posted the other day.

To make matters worse, I ran into an old co-worker while I was there. 

I was erroneously assuming that everyone I know works, therefore no one would

recognize me at Walmart. I was wearing black yoga pants, hair in a messy bun,

no make up and looking like the definition of a worn out mom.

Oops.

One Hundred Thirty Two: Boy Who Cried Wolf

It's official. Blake is definitely going to be the child that gives me grey hair before my time.
He just turned one month old and already he is responsible for three of the most stressful times of my life.

It all started in utero. When I went in for my very first appointment at nine weeks, the doctor ordered a routine ultrasound to determine the size and age of the baby. Technically I could have saved them the time because I know my body down to the minute, but I wanted to see my little peanut.

Anyway, during the ultrasound, the technician asked me about three different times if I was sure I was having no problems.

No bleeding?
No

Not even a little?
No

No cramping?
No

Hmmm. She said. With a tinge of surprise in her voice. She went on to explain to me what she was seeing was a subchorionic hemorrhage. It was "the most common sonographic abnormality" as if that was supposed to make me feel any better. She probably explained it pretty thoroughly, but unfortunately, when I got back to work I googled it and four links later had diagnosed myself with something much more severe.

Something I could fret about for the next 30 some-odd weeks. This fortunately turned out to be nothing. Praise God.

Fast forward to my 18 week ultrasound. I had already found out that Blake was a boy (shocker!) and so I was really expecting the appointment to be rather anti-climatic.

Which it was.

Until about 6 hours later when Dr. Boyd called to let me know they had found another "abnormality" in the ultrasound. There was a cyst on his brain. It could be nothing...it is very common even for adults to have cysts on their brains...or it could be a "marker" for something much more severe. She wanted to send me to a specialist for further testing.

I don't remember many more of the details but I know that I had a complete meltdown in the middle of Wendy's that night. I know that I couldn't take another bite of my spicy chicken sandwich. I remember trying to explain to Jeff everything she had told me. He was so confused. He had walked away from the table for two minutes to get the boys a Frosty and come back to a sobbing wife.

The boys were also confused. Jeff tried to explain to them that there might be something wrong with the baby. I remember Hayden looking back into my teary eyes with concern on his face, and in a very sympathetic tone said, Mom, is Blake really a girl? I guess that was the worst thing a six year old could imagine.

We had two high tech specialists appointments after that to determine if Blake showed any other signs of abnormalities. At both of those appointments they assured us that everything else looked fine, so he was *probably* okay. That word probably sat in the back of my mind for the next twenty weeks. This also turned out to be nothing. Praise God.

Then about two weeks ago, on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Jeff and and the boys had just arrived back home from a bike ride. My phone was ringing as they walked in the door. I answered, and it was Blake's new pediatrician asking if we could come into the office immediately to discuss his newborn screen results. They had come back 'abnormal.'

We haven't ever loaded up the car and three kids as fast as we did that afternoon. We were to the office in less than ten minutes. Me, already in tears of course...and not even sure why...as I held what seemed to be a perfectly healthy baby boy.

When we walked in, we were ushered into one of the patient rooms and the doctor came in pretty soon afterward. She explained that Blake showed signs in the newborn screen that he may have a condition called MCAD, which is a completely treatable "disease." She went on to talk about what it is. Basically, MCAD deficiency prevents the body from processing certain fatty acids and in turn makes the sufferer become hypoglycemic. 

The doctor described it so casually and matter of factly that by the time she was done, tears were no longer falling from my eyes. Then she explained that she was going to send us to Children's Hospital that night for additional testing. Before she left the room, she gave me a very genuine hug and I felt almost at ease, until I read the one page MCAD handout she'd left that said if not treated could result in "sudden death".

And of course, the tears started again.

Let me just stop and say thank goodness that Jeff is level minded in times like this.

Anyway, longstoryshort, we went to Children's Hospital and got a blood and urine sample (do you know how hard it is to get a urine sample on a two week old?). Then we waited  a week to get the results. During that week, we were under the strict orders to NEVER LET HIM GO MORE THAN 4 HOURS WITHOUT EATING.

No pressure.

I am happy to report after many prayers from family and friends that once again it was a false positive. PRAISE GOD!!!

All that to say: if this boy keeps this up, he is really going to wear me out and I will be dying my hair in no time. The doctor assures me that he should be a perfect teenager since he is putting me through all the stresses now.

I am hoping she's right.

Hayden & Davis wait patiently

(and I use that term loosely)

as we get additional tests for Blake at Children's Hospital.

One Hundred Nine: Lessons

Directed toward Hayden:
What is the first thing you are going to teach your baby brother?
Science. Like science experiments. Like how to shrink a feather.

Directed toward Davis:
What is the first thing you are going to teach your baby brother?
That when a dog goes (panting noises), it means he is tired.
Then I am going to teach him about site words. Did you know I have a site word in my name.
IS!
Seriously, who needs kindergarten when lessons like this will be readily available from your big brothers?

Thirty One: Lesson #1012

Lesson #1012: Never, under any circumstances leave your four year old to do a "homework worksheet" at the kitchen table with the to freedom to choose his own marker.

There was a good hour or so (after I realized Davis chose the thickest permanent magic marker in the drawer) that I thought my kitchen table would forever say "I am four" across it six times.

But thanks to some bleach and elbow grease from Jeff, fortunately, that is no longer the case.

***Related: I created these custom worksheets using http://www.handwritingworksheets.com/, a website Mica forwarded to me.

Twenty Six: Buying Stock in Wal-Mart

Tonight, I planned to write a blog about our weekend anniversary getaway and how amazing it was.

About how it was my first ever stay in a suite (SWEET!).

And how Jeff had splurged on the “Baby-moon” package which came with all sorts of goodies like baby gifts (adorable!), and fresh fruit (yum!), and sparkling water (yuck!), and a one hour massage at the spa (Ahhhh!).

But those plans were derailed when we got home from the big weekend and l I decided to run up to Wal-Mart for a “quick errand” while Jeff put together Blake’s room.

TWO HOURS LATER I returned.

Unfortunately I had to return something, so before I even started shopping I waited in the customer service line for thirty minutes. Then I mistakenly continued on my merry-shopping-way for the few items I needed, reasoning that the lines would die down by the time I needed to check out.

MISTAKE #1.

If I wasn’t addicted to the rollback pricing model at Wal-Mart, that would have been the last straw. I am used to lines. I have been to Wal-Mart on the day before Thanksgiving. On Christmas Eve…and even returned something on the Day After Christmas…but apparently I have never seen the madness that is Wal-Mart on the day before August 16th???

It’s not even like people’s baskets were filled to the brim with school supplies. Trust me. I was looking for a reason for all the craziness. And it was just normal every day purchases.
I of course made matters worse by picking the 20 items or less lane.

MISTAKE #2.

Apparently there are new rules regarding the 20 items or less lane.

First of all, the lane really means 20-50 items (give or take).

Second, the more coupons or price matches that require supervisor approval THE MERRIER.

Oh, and if you happen to see someone standing ahead of you in the 20 items or less line that you sort of know, or might be related to, you can move your basket in front of everyone else as long as you mention you “are together." Meaning you know each other, but are not necessarily grocery shopping concurrently, or even checking out on the same receipt.

That happened in my line THREE TIMES.

Fortunately for the family (or group of people that all “knew each other”), there was a buffer, another couple, between us. This couple was obviously annoyed by all of the cutting, but clearly MUCH nicer than me. Right after I took this picture, my phone died, which meant I had to entertain myself for a full twenty minutes without Facebook or Words With Friends.

Just as the NICER couple was finally close enough to the checkout to start breathing a sigh of relief, I pushed my basket around them and motioned with my head toward the family ahead and said “I’m with them.” Since the family that all "knew each other" BUT CHECKED OUT SEPARATELY were all Asian, I thought it was fairly obvious that I was joking. But apparently not. The girl looked like she was about to lose it. Once I started laughing and said I was kidding, there was just a little less tension in the line, and the nice couple laughed too.

Until five minutes later when MANAGER APPROVAL WAS NEEDED AGAIN.

And ohmygosh, if I don’t avoid Wal-Mart-Tax-Free-Event-Next-Weekend like it is the freaking plague, someone please shoot me.

All that to say, I will tell you about my romantic weekend another time. It has sort of been overshadowed by the fact that I NEEDED to buy Hayden hair gel for his new haircut --- Davis insect repellent for his never-ending chiggers --- and Jeff some beer so he will finish putting together Blake’s room.

You’re Never 100% Ready!

First things first before I get started on the 17 hours of work I have to try to fit into my 8 hour day…make that 7, my boss is off today. I figure if I can’t find time to update about our life in general, then the work-life balance must be off---so here goes.

This morning, like most, was quite eventful. It started out like any other, Hayden and I in a bad mood and Jeff and Davis happy and perky as ever. Then things turned dramatic when fully-dressed, ready to walk out the door Hayden spots his “pider-man boxers” (the ‘s’ is silent to Hayden) lying in the pile of clean clothes on the floor (where I am sure everyone keeps their clean clothes). A little background on the piderman boxers: these are his favorite choice of undergarment; mostly because they are boxers, and that is what Jeff wears (is that TMI?). I don’t understand the brain of a two-year old. How big of a deal is this really? Don’t get me wrong, we all have our favorites when it comes to underwear, but rarely do I cry when other factors don’t allow me to wear them? That is when it becomes a battle between all of us. All of us, except for happy Davis cooing on the bed.

Lisa: Fine, let’s change him
Jeff: No, he is already dressed
Lisa: C’mon it will take 2 seconds*
Jeff: NO
Hayden: I need to go potty (the brilliant, manipulative child that he is knows that this is his best chance)
Hayden wins! I follow him into the bathroom, piderman boxers in hand to end this once and for all.
(*in reality, I know which one of us is right here, but I figure it is faster to change him now than deal with the 4 sittings in time out, 7 spankings, and 3 heart-to-hearts it will take to convince Hayden that he will wear briefs today. I admit, all parental logic goes out the window in the morning)

So, as I am helping him put on his piderman boxers, I take this opportunity to change him into some navy pants to match his grey and navy shirt (rather than the black and yellow ones Jeff put on him). And so begins dramatic event #2.

Hayden: I want to wear my black pants
Lisa: No you are wearing your piderman boxers, and your navy pants
Hayden: I want to wear my black pants
Lisa: No you are wearing your piderman boxers, and your navy pants
Hayden: I want to wear my black pants
Lisa: No you are wearing your piderman boxers, and your navy pants
Jeff: smirking on the side

4 sittings in time out, 7 spankings, and 3 heart-to-hearts later and we are walking out the door with pider boxers, navy pants, grey and navy shirt. Lesson learned. But wait, Hayden is thirsty…dramatic event #3.

Hayden: I want a drink of water
Jeff: Okay, let’s go get a drink of water
Hayden: I want to do it by myself

Jeff lets him do it by himself, but somewhere along the way Hayden forgets that he in fact did do it himself, and gets upset. It’s Friday, and we can’t win for losing…(whatever that means).

Somewhere along McDermott, Hayden snaps out of it, wakes up, and gets in a good mood. He is so excited when he gets out of the car that more than one person commented on his joyous mood “He’s just a bundle of energy”…“I want what he had this morning.” I opted for a half grin while thinking to myself “If they only knew…” rather than blurt out “then I suggest you invest in some piderman boxers!”

So, let’s move on to the wins for the morning. Whose child showed up to school on Show and Tell Friday wearing a visor and holding a veggie tale, you ask? Mine. Yes, even after all that drama, we went so far as to pack all of his friends Vanilla wafers before I realized that wouldn’t work because they are actually called ‘Nilla wafers. We walked in behind his friend Noah, who was carrying a vacuum extension. As we passed Blaine’s mom walking out she said, “looks like everyone is going to have some sort of a vacuum today. Noah’s dad chuckled and said, “what else is there?” I couldn’t resist… “Actually Hayden has a veggie tale and is wearing a visor”. Clear Winner.

Lastly, let me address the title and Mica’s most recent blog. To answer your question, NO you are never 100% ready for children (as if I didn’t already answer it above). I am still not. Although I have never lost Hayden in a store, or left him outside in the parking lot, I have on two occasions forgotten to not only put him in the car seat, but also buckle it, and shown up to work twice with my shirt on backwards and once with it on inside out. I wish I was kidding. I’m not.


# re: You’re Never 100% Ready!One question: Did Hayden take a Vanilla envelope to school? Thanks for the pep talk! I've actually walked out the door with two different shoes on...and my only morning duty (besides getting myself ready) is to....OK, that really is all I have to do in the morning, but it's hard!

3/10/2006 10:14 AM Mica
# re: You’re Never 100% Ready!Man, I have got to come spend the night one night during the week and watch all of this...seriously!! This is great! Where's the video camera when you need it?

3/10/2006 10:17 AM kel
# re: You’re Never 100% Ready!C'mon over, but be aware that guests have to get Hayden ready in the morning. It's the rule! Don't worry though, we'll take care of Davis for the next year and a half.

3/10/2006 10:19 AM Lisa
# re: You’re Never 100% Ready!Your house is much more exciting in the morning than mine. BTW where did you buy those piderman boxers - I want to get some for here. Now for the English teacher in me who's (which translates who is) should be whose. I guess you still make an A with only one minor error. Love you!!!

3/10/2006 3:21 PM Laney
# re: You’re Never 100% Ready!Hayden should have wore a vest with a v-neck shirt and velvet pants and carried a visor to school. If you really wanted to impress them he could have brought his teacher a violet. All teachers like flowers. Anyways, I agree where is the video camera? I would have loved watching all of this on snapfish.

3/11/2006 7:47 AM Aunt Mae Me