A train wreck of a bathroom...

Oldest Boy and some friends went to Busch Gardens yesterday.  They had planned this out during the week, figuring out who would drive, etc...celebrating the end of their senior year.

Now I know that Oldest Boy told me they would all be meeting up here at our house yesterday morning, and I kind of did a quick run around the house, picking up used sippy cups, making sure Baby Boy didn't ditch his dirty underwear in the foyer (don't laugh, he's done that!).  I figured it would be fine, they were just going to pull up, maybe chat me up at the front door, everyone check for sunscreen, and leave.

I ran to the store after I dropped off Little Boy at school...and returned home to find them all still here, sitting on the couch, playing video games. "Okay, still okay, I think all the bedroom doors are shut, no one sees the messes....they should be leaving any minute now..."

I was in the kitchen putting some things away when I noticed one of the girls had gone missing...my brain screams:
"Omg, is she using the boy's bathroom?!"  "Please tell me she isn't using the boy's bathroom!"

As soon as she came around the corner, I knew...she had just visited the cursed "boy's bathroom". *sigh*  I said "I'm so sorry you had to use that bathroom! I haven't been in to clean it yet!"  "It's okay", she said...and yet had that dazed look about her, like someone who witnessed a train wreck or just stumbled across a dead body.

I went into that bathroom as soon as they left, and seriously, I wanted to weep.  I have WALKED OUT of gas station restrooms that were cleaner than this!!! There were dirty handprints on all the white drawers, toothpaste hardened all over the sink and counter, one ratty towel dangling from the towel bar and...
OMG!!  did someone wipe their butt with the throw rug when they ran out of toilet paper????!!!!!

I feel like I should wear a sign around my neck everyday of my life...most of the time it would say "I'm really an organized and sane person, I swear."   But for a special occasion such as yesterday's, maybe it should say "I DO clean my house, please believe me!"

Used clothes and chicken nuggets

One of my best friends in the whole world gave me some great gifts the other day...her used clothes. 

Now, when I say to you "used clothes" do you imagine some shirts or skirts with some wear, maybe a seam that needs repairing, a discreet spot or two?  Yeah, usually that's what I envision too...

No, her used clothes are pristine, pressed perfectly, newer-looking than most of the items I've only worn once.  When she says "I have some clothes for you."...my heart rate literally increases...it's like going shopping on someone else's credit card.

[Being a mom in a home with all these kids, plus a husband who has to wear decent dress clothes to work each day, buying clothes for myself is pretty low on the priority list.  I work from home, and run kids back and forth, how great do my clothes have to be anyway? I own one pair of jeans at a time, for example, and I wear those suckers until I rip a hole in the butt or blow out a zipper...luckily that's never occurred anywhere but at home, or in my driveway (the last ones bit the dust when I was climbing in my suv-hopefully no neighbors witnessed it).]

So, best friend comes over on Saturday...arms full of clothes, and you should see what she brought. There were some cute summery dresses (already wore two of them), some blouses, some skirts. These clothes are amazingly beautiful, classy and perfect.  Obviously not owned by someone who has four sons, all of whom use their clothing (and their mother's) as places to wipe lips, noses, and greasy fingers.

I'm in clothes heaven right now, feeling like a supermodel...I guess I should enjoy it before Baby Boy gets his next meal of chicken nuggets...

Wonder Dad and the stuffed tiger...

On Saturday, Baby Boy told Dad and I that it was "Tiger's" birthday Sunday. (Tiger is this little stuffed animal he'd been playing with all day.)  When I was tucking Baby Boy into bed Saturday night, we talked about celebrating Tiger's birthday with some cupcakes or cookies or something (none of which I can eat...but that's relevant only to me).  He was so excited that I was going to go along with it and make him a treat for him and his Tiger.

(On a side note: my cookies are slice and bake from the refrigerator, and my cupcakes come from a box mix. There, I said it and I'm not ashamed...if I had to do it from scratch, these kids would only get treats once every 17 years.)

Sunday morning Dad runs to the store to get some donuts for the kiddos (again, more goodies that I can't eat...notice how I never get to eat anything fun?) and a newspaper.

Dad (now known as "Wonder Dad") surprised Baby Boy and Little Boy by buying them a tiny ice cream cake, so they could have an official birthday party for Tiger. 

This is a man who has so many balls in the air, constantly juggling...he works 60 hours a week, and then he works most weekends here at home, too. I mean he doesn't have time to breathe...much less remember a quick conversation about a stuffed animal named Tiger. (I'm lucky I remember my own name most of the time). He went and looked for something that he could bring to his kids, just for fun, just because. It really touched my heart that he did this.

I hope these boys appreciate just how great their Wonder Dad is...

Little Boy, our social butterfly.

As I'm picking up my darling Little Boy (he's 8) from school on Tuesday, his teacher walks over to my car to tell me something. You know this can either be a really good thing: "Little Boy did such and such in class today and I'm so proud of him!"...(which we've gotten recently)...

or a "not-so" really good thing......like what she said to me on Tuesday...

"I had to send Little Boy out of the classroom today, he just would not stop talking."

Now, I've been in Little Boy's classroom many times, and man, there are so many kids in there, that frankly, I don't know how the teacher does it. (Kudos to all you teachers, you are amazing.) She's got all of these kids in different levels of reading and math skills (not to mention emotional stability), that it's a miracle how well they all come out at the end of the year.  I can appreciate that it makes her job that much harder when she's got one that can't keep his cute little lips shut.

My boys have always been pretty well-behaved in class. My mother would call the reason for that a "Proper Fear of Dad".  They knew that if they got in trouble in school, they would then get second dose of trouble when they got home.

For Little Boy, being sent out was devastating. To be sent to another class and sit in front of the staring eyes of other students...where everyone knows and whispers "Ooooh, he's in trouble!"   It's probably as bad as it could get for him. 

At home Little Boy has been restricted from any video games this week, plus swimming in the pool after school, and no access to my computer. You would think his little world came to an end.  Hopefully he will remember how bummed he is now the next time he wants to be Mr. Socialite in the classroom.

On a side note: My husband and I have only ourselves to blame for this...we can both provide undeniable proof of the genetics here by simply showing our own report cards...eerily similar...saying "She/He does a great job in class, and is very bright, however has a problem with talking too much in class."

Poor kid, he was set up to fail...

Perfume and dirty socks...

I have to know...do moms of teenage girls get asked to smell clothes?  I don't mean "Ooooh, this perfume is delightful Mom, smell it!"  I mean "This shirt has been in my bed for 3 days, does it stink too much to wear?"

I try to be a supportive mom you know, but really... When you say "Does this smell bad?", I'm already bracing for the worst, and wondering...."Was this in the job description when I was hired?"

Have any of you watched the Malcolm in the Middle episode where the mom imagines she has all daughters instead of sons? The boys are kicking and fighting in the back seat of the van, on their way to get some new underwear or something...and then the mom sees her imaginary daughters...all getting along, brushing each other's hair, delighting in the fact that they are going shopping at the mall. 

Do you moms of girls have rides in the car that are pleasant, cheerful and fresh-smelling, while I ride with armpit farts and dirty socks and rowing shirts stuffed under the seats?

Don't get me wrong, I adore my boys, but sometimes...I just wonder how the other half lives...

Middle boy and the pantry...

Yes, much different than the last title, I know.  (Those of you who know Middle Boy will actually get an extra laugh out of that...)

 At what point in my relationship with Middle Boy did I become the play toy? Now that he is bigger than I am, I am all sorts of funny when being lifted and moved around or tossed into the swimming pool.  You might say that it's all paybacks from when he was little, but I would beg to differ.  HIS FATHER is the one who should be getting payback from that nonsense...not The Momma. 

Today as I was putting groceries into the pantry, Middle Boy comes up behind me and says "Uh-oh, time to put Mom in the pantry!"  and literally puts me in and shuts the door...my face against the Chef Boyardee and canned peas.

This is not a walk-in pantry.

This is a regular pantry, 5 shelves or whatever, bi-fold door, with just enough room for Momma and her big butt to get shut in it.

I couldn't argue or fight back because I was laughing too much at the ridiculousness of it...Oldest Boy walks by and says "Is she really in there?"...like I can't hear him talking....

Oldest Boy and my heart...

Yes, I know there are plenty of posts about him lately, but between graduation and getting his college paperwork taken care of...he's got alot of stuff written on my "to-do" list.

Yesterday was difficult for me, something that I didn't expect...I was helping him get ready to go to his girlfriend's prom, they go to different schools (next week is his prom). He got most of his stuff on here, and was going to go to her parents to finish up and take pictures etc. 

I walk him to his car, get his A/C cranking, hang his tuxedo jacket in the back, and give him a kiss...and sob.

Teary-eyed as I type this too. All week I was SO excited for him to go, couldn't wait to see him in his tux, helped him pick out flowers.  Why now am I feeling so heartbroken?

I think part of me worries so much about my boys leaving...and not seeing much of them when they go. I mean, my mom and I hang out, go to movies together, that sort of thing...but how often do grown men want to go and just hang out alone with their mothers? Am I destined to be the butt of every "mother-in-law" joke on the planet?  You've seen the movies...where the wife says "Yeah, but YOUR MOTHER" was here!" 

I want to be included in my grandchildren's births, but I know her mom has first dibs...I want to help when there is a problem, but I know she'll turn to her own mother first for help.  It's normal and natural (I think) for it to be that way...

I wonder if other moms of boys have these fears?  Am I just making myself crazy with it?

Am I going to drive my husband insane when these kids leave???  Is there enough chocolate on the planet to get me through this???

Smiles on the homefront...

Baby Boy is feeling much better about things this morning, so glad that we are done with the tears...of course he'll have to hear about the party today at school...is it bad if I keep him home so that I might avoid more guilt this afternoon??

Oldest Boy went and picked up the tuxedo.  I like it alot.  He's going to look so cute. (He HATES cute, hates it...but I call them as I see them.)

It's not the best picture, but you get the idea. I LOVE the tie, I thought he'd go with a bow tie, but Pretty Princess (the girlfriend)  knows her stuff.  Keep in mind, that Oldest Boy is thin as a rail...I could probably wrap this sucker around him twice and he'd still have room for a buffet dinner before the prom.  Hopefully I can make this look right on him.

Did I mention that he's going to wear this two weekends in a row? How well do you suppose this suit is going to fare after the first weekend? Too bad for Oldest Boy, he won't be allowed to eat or drink anything all night...he better carbo-load before he gets dressed...

I'm the worst mom on the planet....

Baby Boy got an invitation to a birthday party for a classmate from preschool.  It was for today after school, outside, where the kids would get wet. I declined the invitation, for a few reasons:

1.  It's a school night...I still have to make sure that Little Boy gets his homework finished, it's due every Friday.

2.  It's a million degrees outside. I would be miserable, sitting and watching him play with water, while I'm having a heatstroke.  (We have a swimming pool that I've been taking him every afternoon.)

3.  I don't know one mother or father in the group. I've been to a couple of the functions there, and never really connected with anyone.  So I'd basically be sitting by myself for two hours (while sweating, don't forget the sweating part).

4.  Oldest Boy needs to go pick up his tuxedo...so I would then have to take Little Boy to the party also, and have to deal with that.

I just don't know. I thought it would be okay, I didn't mention it anymore to Baby Boy, thought I'd made it without a scene.  Until someone at school brought it up...I should have known...ugh.
Now he's crying these big, huge tears.  And I feel like a total schmuck.  I'm overwhelmed with the stuff here sometimes, and honestly, just couldn't see adding anything else to my plate. What a mess.

I'll be taking him in the pool again today, and making him some chocolate chip cookies...and maybe buying him a new car or something...*sigh*

Discernment....

You know what this is...it describes (among other things) the ability to know when to say certain things and when NOT to...

Please, allow me to illustrate:

a)  Oldest Boy stands in driveway and looking at new small ding in his Mustang says "Well, this sucks."
versus:
b)  Baby Boy is told to sit and color his picture in his preschool class instead of running around...as he sits...he says..."Well, this sucks."

Or:
Mom (in a moment of frustration) says "Fine, I guess I'll have to go get a glass of wine in order to deal with all of you arguing this evening."
versus:
Baby Boy (at school) says "We made my mom drink last night."

You can see the need for lessons in discernment for Baby Boy. All the other boys have learned it, but it's hard, having a 5 year-old at home, who listens to what his older brothers say, and copies it WORD FOR WORD.

I'm going to be working on it alot over the summer, I can just see those notes coming home from the new kindergarten teacher in the fall..."Mrs. F., I had an interesting discussion with your son today...."

Oh! And....

I got to go see Iron Man 2 Friday night! Woo!  I loved it!  Go see it!  (And yes, I embarrassed Middle Boy most of the time, by taking pictures of the movie screen with my cell phone...Mom is such a dork...ha ha ha.)

The weekend...

Stayed at the hotel with the hubby and three of my four kiddos this past weekend. Middle Boy was in his last crew race of the season, and we decided to road-trip it down there and watch. Middle Boy had to stay in the hotel with his team, we didn't see much of him, unfortunately (or "fortunately" if you are Oldest Boy).

I must say, there is just nothing to compare with watching your child pull a boat at a phenomenal pace, with Mom screaming her lungs raw (not that he can hear me out there, but it's really hard to contain myself).

We took the boys out to dinner on Saturday night, to a "Japanese Steakhouse"...why they ever started calling themselves that I'll never know...sort of goofy.  You know the type, where they cook your food on the huge hibachi grill right front of you, making you sweat and leaving you smelling like a short-order cook.

The small boys, of course, love the flames and smoke and the juggling of the spatulas...Mom  loves the stack of vegetables they always leave on their plates, and the need for a second mortgage to pay the bill at the end...but it's all in the name of family fun, though, right? Right-o.

The little cuties loved the hotel room, wanting to turn on all the televisions (there were 3!) and hairdryers (you know the ones attached to the walls in the hotel bathrooms), open every closet door, look out every window. Baby Boy actually teared up when it was time to go, he was so enamored with the place.

They swam in the pool...don't even think it, you KNOW I didn't get in my bathingsuit....got their eyes blistered with the amount of chlorine (I told them that lots of chlorine in there is a good thing, "Just don't open your eyes!"), and ate at the hotel's breakfast buffet like they hadn't had a meal in weeks (meanwhile I'm still reeling over the bill from the restaurant the night before).

I'm so grateful that we had the chance to go "hang out". It seems like we are so busy now, eating dinner at different times, coming and going so much, that to just sit with my men and relax (well, kind of) was really a blessing.

Now I just have to do a presoak on our laundry, to get that "freshly deep fried" scent out of it...

An Ed Hardy kind of birthday...

So the birthday went well. Very well. Hubby rolled sushi for those who were here Friday (yum!), Oldest Boy and Baby Boy picked out a cake that was wonderful (and yes, I DID eat too much of it..in case you were wondering).

Got a fun couple of gifts from the Mother-figure, Little Brother and the Little Sister. My side of the family lives in Chicago, and so, unfortunately we weren't together for my birthday...but they did send some fun presents.  I was opening the box, and as my niece is watching me I pull out a purse. Shiny, new, with funky metal detailing..."Woo!" I think..."I need a purse, mine is beat to death!".  My niece says "Wow, you got a 'Cathy'?"  And I'm thinking "No, it's a purse."...um...what?  "It's a 'Cathy'" she says..."You don't know what a 'Cathy' is?"

Now, if you said "Wow, you got a 'Weight Watchers'!"  or "Wow, you got a 'Fisher Price'!"...then I would know exactly what you are talking about.  I am a girl who buys my purses at the box stores that start with either a "T" or a "W", and only if they are on sale.  I currently am carrying a purse big enough to smuggle a newborn AND a puppy, with the pleather worn through so that you see the cloth underneath in spots.  It has half eaten lollipops stuck to the inside, along with capless pens, a melted lipstick, and I think, enough change to park my car in a metered spot for two weeks.

Should I just use this purse for everyday things? Or should I buy another bag on sale at "T" or "W" and save this one for special occasions?  If you could see the fancy lining in this thing...maybe I should save it and only use it only AFTER children quit handing me half-eaten items...in 20 years or so.

Little Sister bought me a rockin' headband from Ed Hardy. They sell these things for $25...a splurge I would never employ for myself (4 kids, all living at home...all eating...you do the math).  Which makes it a SPLENDID gift. I love it.  Nevermind the fact that my teenagers believe me to be too old to wear Ed Hardy in a cool manner...or say the word "rockin'".

All in all it was a wonderful weekend, spent with people that I love and adore.  Homemade sushi not once, but twice (and he cleaned the kitchen too!!), cool gifts, wonderful family and friends..I am truly blessed.