A year in the life of One Girl...

This has really got to stop...this writing once a year...with the plethora of fascinating things happening in this house of men...I'm wasting quality writing opportunities.

In my defense, I started working outside the home last February, adding another ball to the 5,372,894 already looming over my head, and I was lucky to find time to floss my teeth, much less sit and write. (Okay, I never really try to find time to floss, but I think the dentist bought it.)

It was an interesting year, trying to fit it all in, and while I wish there were things I had done better, (I'm sure Little Boy and Baby Boy probably wore their underpants for two days in a row a couple of times), no one seems the worse for wear. 

Could there have been more green vegetables offered (note: "offered", not "eaten")?   Probably.

Was my house dusty enough on occasion to be designated as part of the National Parks Division of Deserts (Is there one of those? It sounds good, anyway...)?   Most assuredly.

Did all the men's cell phones get cut off twice because I forgot to pay the bill?  Unfortunately.

But did we all survive it?  Indeed.


Lots of big happenings here this year for the men...I will try my best to keep up-to-date...Oldest Boy continues in college and work endeavors, while dating a girl I WANT as a daughter.  Middle Boy is graduating from high school and possibly going to the Naval Academy (!). Little Boy continues to excel in music and is growing in leaps & bounds....and then there is Baby Boy...

The Blue-Eyed Wonder never allows a dull day in the Men Household. He is the happiest person on the planet, I think, and keeps us all (his 1st grade teacher included) on our toes.

Thank you for checking in, sorry to have been gone for so long. I promise I won't be a stranger.

Family Fitness Day! I'm so (not) excited!

Today is "Family Fitness Day" at Littleboy and Babyboy's school. I'm over the moon with excitement...really...can't you just feel it?

Don't get me wrong, I am all for encouraging these kids to move around, and alot of parents need to do some moving too, but honestly, do we all have to do it in front of one another? The three-legged race? I don't have appropriate, "work out in front of everyone" clothes for that. Not to mention the fact that I am, by far, one of the least-graceful humans on the planet.

Will I humiliate my sons if I do a lousy job? Will the kindergartners snicker behind my back when I go in to help them paint penguins on Thursday?

Please understand, I work out. Alot. In a gym that 1.) is women only, and 2.) is very supportive of women and all different body types, etc. Not alot of judging going on there, no one cares if you gained 10 pounds in the last 3 months (thanks, crappy thyroid), you have old sweatpants on or if you turn bright red in the face every time you work out. They know me there, they accept me, my ugly sweatpants and my red face. This is a totally different thing.

I always try to look presentable when I go to the school, cute t-shirt with the school motto on it, cute shoes that the little kindergarten girls and I giggle about when I go in...I can't look presentable if I'm wearing worn-out sweats, am extremely red-faced, and performing in a very non-graceful, non-cute sort of way.

One day my sons will look back on days like this and either a.) think their mom is a great sport who showed up at all sorts of school activities or b.) think their mom is a great sport who really should have invested in better workout attire...

Oh and hey! I just remembered, they are bringing in a photographer too...I think I just pulled a hamstring...

Sea Monkeys...a purchase you might regret...

Alright, so color me "unprepared" or better yet, color me "bad at doing research before I purchase Christmas gifts for my children that are going to end up being gross and/or a pain in my butt".

Littleboy asked for Sea Monkeys for Christmas.You've seen them, they've been around since I was young. (I could never understand why my mom wouldn't buy them...now I know.)  They come in a cute little package at toy stores, just look at how cute:

Little tiny tank, little feeding spoon. How adorable, how bad can they be? Right? Wrong.

Allow me to show you a couple more pictures...if you haven't eaten breakfast yet, let me just apologize now.

Sea Monkeys are actually brine shrimp...or some such thing. (Of course NOW I do my research on them. After Littleboy and Babyboy have their tanks thriving on the bathroom counter.)  Still, not too bad, right? Kind of cute and minuscule, no big deal.

But then there's this:

This is what you end up with, apparently. These suckers are breeding, and grow to 3/4 of an inch long.

I think I might just have to vomit. It looks like a tank full of swimming fleas, or bugs, omg, what have I done?

I work extremely hard to maintain tight border security between myself and the flora and fauna that live outside. And I've just shot myself in the foot.

These guys are going to come to some unfortunate demise before we get to this point. I'm going to start planning the assassinations now.  Maybe the "cat" will knock over the tanks while they are at school.  That might work, they'll still love HIM if he kills the seamonkey-shrimp-bugs...

I'm really needing a personal assistant...not "sorta" needing, not "wow, it would be nice to have one" needing...but really, truly, desperately needing a personal assistant.

Keeping track of one business, one household, one husband, four children and one pet (two, if you count the goldfish we are fish-sitting...he needs to eat, doesn't he??)  is pushing the limits of my brain memory storage.  Hubby will ask me things like "Do you remember that plan that we did, that we needed the signature on, back in September? What did we do with it?"  I do not know. The amazing thing is...he DOES know. He can remember things he did 4.7 years ago, who he spoke to, and what they said.  I can't do it.

How does a woman that God blessed with such a miserable memory get handed so much to do and remember? I've got to send in brownies for the teachers on Wednesday this week, get everything done this weekend so I can mail out 1099's to people we worked with last year, call the dentist to set up appointments for two of the four boys, and check on a Jeep we own that apparently prefers life at the repair shop to the comforts of our cozy garage. Not to mention, we have no juice in the fridge, are out of ibuprofen and canned cat food (he prefers to have both, wet and dry food, excuse YOU) and I think the dishwasher needs soap...

I need someone to stand behind me in the morning, with a clipboard and a calendar and say "Here are your lists of things you need to do today, Onegirl."  and then make sure I get it all done.

Instead I have this:

...and yes, you guessed it, one of those post-it notes says "BROWNIES WEDNESDAY!!".

Smart boys and their reasonably intelligent mother...

The other night I recorded a debate between Oldest Boy and Middle Boy. It was an impromptu debate...standing at the island in my kitchen...on something to do with Calculus.

I say "something", because I have no idea what they were talking about.  I mean no idea.  They might as well be debating in Japanese...oh wait...they both speak Japanese...and I don't.

Everyone knows that teenagers always ASSUME they are smarter than their parents, but what happens when they really are? Do you acknowledge their mathematical prowess, or just nod  your head and say "Sounds about right to me" when they ask you a question from their Physics class.

Of course, I'm glad that God gave these kids some decent brain power...they will end up supporting us I'm sure, (just looked at the 401k, yipes!)...I'm very grateful for that.

But when do I cave and tell them "You've got me on that one, kid."  and more importantly...

Why doesn't "smart" = "the ability to see dirty clothes laying all over a bedroom floor" ?

Are the comments still "snarky" if you only say them in your head?

Okay, I'm not talking about being "snarky" to anyone in particular. (You DO know what "snarky" is, right? Comments that you KNOW you are only saying to make yourself feel better...that really fall under the "If you don't have something nice to say...don't say anything" category.)

My biggest "snark" is regarding girls and their weight...or lack thereof.  Now, mind you, I honestly only say this is my head...but I've been catching myself doing it alot lately.  I know I shouldn't, but my mind goes right there...

Victoria's Secret girls...the girls at my gym...any of these girls around with no stretch marks...I always say to myself...

"Yeah, let me see them after they have had four kids!"

Is that bad that I do that? Am I only justifying the continual 10 pounds I struggle with ALL THE TIME? Should I be happy for them, that they are fortunate enough NOT to have stretch marks from here to there? I don't know...I've just never been one of those girls who wears her stretch marks proudly...I'm glad for you if you can do that...I WISH I could do that...but I just can't.

So, in light of the Christmas season, and everything that means to me...and looking at the bigger picture of my life and how many blessings I have to be thankful for...I'm going to refrain from saying that phrase in my head (at least until January..baby steps, you know, like running a marathon). 

Everytime I want to compare myself and my body to some other girl's...I'm going to remember my blue-eyed boy, and my other three too...

...and try not to think about the egg nog I indulged in yesterday.

Oldest Boy and his quest for two quarters...

Oldest Boy works as a life guard for one of the large theme parks near our home.  He loves his job, loves it...but sometimes comes home with stories that would curl your hair. Thank God he has never had to save a drowning child, but some of the things he says do involve blood (ugh) or bathing suits toooo small to be worn in public (ewww).

Last night he told me about something that happened between a disabled teenager at the park and himself. It was C-O-L-D yesterday, and yet there were people going down the water slides, etc. (Well, I guess it's cold to us...not necessarily to people from say, Greenland.)  OB had on long pants over his swim trunks and a long jacket with a hood...just counting the minutes until they close, so he can get inside in the heat.

A boy that he knows from high school (this child attended classes at the school for kids with disabilites, but they knew each other from around school) was there with his mom. This boy came up to my boy and said "I dropped something on the slide and I can't get it!"  So, OB is thinking "Omg, I am freezing."...while at the same time, taking off the jacket and pants and getting into the water for this other child to retrieve for him...

...two dropped quarters.

OB was shivering and feeling hypothermia setting in as the other boy says "Thank you" and goes to find his mom.

THIS is exactly what I want from my sons. THIS.  I am a huge proponent of "Think outside yourself."  I am forever drilling into their craniums that the world is a big place and there are a lot of people in it who are in need.  I'm so, so blessed to have children to whom God gave big hearts.. So grateful. So very grateful.

I'll remember this for the rest of my life (although I'm sure OB will forget)...in the meantime...

Here baby, let Momma make you a hot chocolate.