Word of the day..

Work is so....suckish today, if I can steal my son Gavin's word of the moment. Anytime life doesn't go perfectly smooth for Gav...it's "suckish". As in, "Why is it raining, when I want to go bow hunting, man my life is so suckish!!" Or, "We had meatloaf today at school, it was kind of suckish." I giggle because I constantly make up words that don't exist, and I'm definitely digging suckish!

That's exactly the word that came to mind, in the midst of being completely overwhelmed by problems at work today. This has been a really suckish day!

Joys of motherhood

I've got a million "laugh about it later" stories. Stories where at the time are tear inducing and cringe worthy...but after the dust settles we tell again and again, laughing all the while.

This weekend Gavin (whom most "laugh about it later stories" are about) decided to hotwire(?) my brother-in-law's excavator. Well, not sure if his intentions were to actually start it and drive off, as "oh wow there's an ignition I'm going to stick something in it". At any rate the thing he stuck in the ignition being a pocket knife broke off in the ignition. Gavin of course had "no idea" how this happened, and it definitely "wasn't him". All the while our youngest son Cash was nodding his head telling us, "Yes, you did Gavin". I was livid & horrified all at once. Where did he get the pocket knife? Where was my husband when all of this was going down? My brother-in-law needs his equipment to work, will this mess up jobs he's doing this week? Will he loose out on money because of us? How much will it cost to repair an excavator? Why did my son lie to me? How in the hell did he break heavy equipment?

Thankfully my brother-in-law was very understanding. Gavin had to pick up rocks from the field all Sunday afternoon, and write front and back pages of "I will not lie to my mom and dad" (and fyi he spelled lie...."l-i-i"...which made me think about grounding him from his w-i-i!)I got the great news yesterday morning that 51.00 was the grand total of Gavin's debacle. So the funny story with my customers yesterday when they would complain about something their child had done, was "But has your child ever broken an excavator?....Didn't think so." I'm sure in one way or another I brightened their day, either with a chuckle, or the thought of "at least a (Phew) "My child has never done that !"

Proud to be a Weird Missourian!

The other day I was having polite conversation-you know where the person doesn't really want to talk to you, and you don't really want to talk to them, but the awkward silence is too much to bear so you start one of those, "So, how 'bout the weather?" kind of conversation? The lady mentioned that she was heading for Ohio for 10 days for vacation. Nothing against Ohio, but it's not typically known for being a vacation hotspot, so I asked if she had family there. Turns out she did, and that she's originally from there. She went on to say how much she loved Missouri, but how when she first moved here how weird she thought we all were, because Missourians wave at.....everyone! Which brought me back to memories of my dad waving at every single car that passed, and my brothers and I asking, "Who was that?" and my dad would reply, "I have no idea." Now years later it's me driving down the road, waving at everyone, and my children are asking, "Who was that?" and I can smile and say, "I have no idea". I took her calling us weird as a compliment, and I think she genuinely meant it as one. So if your a fellow weird Missourian pat yourself on the back!

Gavin: I love you mom and I'm really glad you gave birth to me!!
Cash: I love you mommy!
Gavin: I love you, you’re the best mom in the whole wide world, and I'm so glad you and dad met and got married and are my parents.
Maddie: Want me to rub your back?

Me: Wha..Wha...What the heck? What did you three do? Did your dad tell you to say these things?

Gavin & Cash:(in unison)YES (hey, at least they're honest)

I know I've touched on this topic before, but I'm going to touch on it again, and in the future, probably still yet again.

I love doing things for my husband and children. They are my life. My entire universe revolves around them. There is not a decision I make that I don't do a mental rundown on how the outcome may affect my four loves. Unfortunately, my husband has been rendered borderline helpless because I handle...well...honestly I handle everything. I make sure our household runs smooth. I am the maid, the chef, the tutorer, the pitcher, the catcher, the financial analyst, the personal shopper, the gardener, and the chauffeur, and 28 days a month (26 in Feb) everything runs pretty much like clockwork, and I can do it with a smile. There's just those pesky hormone-overloaded couple days a month that I feel underappreciated. Where, I'm disgusted by the very monsters I created. I feel overwhelmed, under loved, and frankly I just need to hear how awesome I am from my loved ones.

It's only taken 13 years of life together, but the husband finally has his PMS radar locked in on mood swings. He can recognize the change in me with ease now. That's when he takes the kid's out of my hair for a couple hours, and they come back, rehearsed and ready to let the compliments(as ridiculous as some of them are..."thank you for giving birth to me"...really?)fly. But as ridiculous as they are, I need to hear them. It fills me with purpose, and gives me the energy to take on the world, for the next 28 days, anyway.

God is my homeboy!

Yesterday morning I arrived at work, knowing that my boss lady (affectionately known as mom) was handling a house inspection and wouldn't be into the office until mid-morning. I opened my purse for my office keys, but could not find them anywhere. I opened the ashtray of my vehicle which we use as a loose change/sometimes key holder and they weren't there either. Then I remembered I'd walked to the post office right before I'd left the office the night before, and as my stomach sank, remembered tossing the keys on my desk, but had no recollection of retrieving them before left. "Please God", I said more to myself out of frustration, than as an actual prayer, and opened my purse up, right to my office keys. It made me stop and say an actual prayer of thanks to Him. I've really neglected prayer lately, and felt extremely guilty.

Later that day, I was in desperate need of caffeine in the form of a Diet Pepsi. I searched through my loose change, finding all the "silver" I needed for the soda machine, except one dime. I decided to count out 10 pennies and trade them into the boss lady for a dime, but upon doing so, found a dime, that I swear was not there before. I took this as another nudge from God showing his awesomeness, and said another prayer of thanks. Not a "Dear Lord, thank you for this dime and for the soda I'm about to receive", but a "Thank you for giving me this reminder that you're always there, and for the wake-up call to get back into the groove of praying, and attending church.

The final miracle happened when remembered a bill that I forgot to pay. It was due the 17th. It's always been due the 17th. I looked through my "bill folder" and could not find the bill. So, I went to the website, logged in, and not only wasn't there a bill, but I have a zero balance. There will be no more bills, ever from this account.

Now, I'm sure there are some of you that are thinking all 3 of my miracles can be explained. "You overlooked your keys and the dime, and you just forgot you made your final payment last month." I don't think so, I choose to believe I had a little help from a Higher Power, and I promised to blog about that today to spread his greatness!

I can't make this stuff up

Yesterday when arriving home from work, Gavin was fishing in the creek in front of our house. I stopped and asked if he was having any luck since the minnows that swam in the creek were smaller than the actual bait he was using. He assured me there were perch as well, and I went on into the house leaving the fisherman to have his fun. As we were heading outside to leave for our church's Vacation Bible School, we heard Gavin screaming hysterically. Cody and I sprinted to the bridge to see what was wrong, and in the meantime I distinctly heard the word "snapping turtle". So, I veered off, grabbing my camera from the truck, and continued running toward Gavin. (I know your thinking, this was no time for a photo op, but my mind had raced ahead 10 years to how funny this would be when he was 18 and we could say, "Remember when you caught that snapping turtle from our little creek? Ha-Ha Good times" please don't call social services)

When we got to Gavin, he had a massive snapping turtle on the end of his line, and his hysterics were caused by not knowing what to do. Fishing is one of his favorite activities, and he was not going to drop his pole (especially in a creek containing a very large snapping turtle!)Nor was he going to reel the thing up! Finally, as his dad came to his rescue (he's a regular superman isn't he, fighter of all reptiles!)Mr. Turtle decided he wasn't hungry for brightly colored plastic bait after all, and let go, retreating under a rock. I did manage to take a picture of the snapping turtle on the line (sorry need a card reader to get the pic off, but will post it as soon as possible) but Gavin wouldn't let me take a picture of his face, because he wasn't looking his toughest.

I'm aware in posting this no one will be visiting me for awhile, with our home seeming to be a regular reptile center. Maybe I should start charging for tours.

This week with what little free time we've had between softball games, and basketball camp we've worked on outside projects. A lot of the work has been taken care by Cody's favorite mead of transportation...the tractor. He's repaired our gravel road that takes constant beatings by the rainstorms we've had, and he bush-hogged (I'm so desperately trying to think of another word for this, for the readers who aren't familiar with this term-it's a machine you pull behind the tractor that basically "mows" fields)areas closer to the house, sprucing things up a bit.

One place in particular he tended to was an area right behind our house that I refer to as, the “City of Lost Baseballs”. Gavin would hit the ball long and hard, over our heads into this tall grassy area, and we'd immediately chalk the ball up as a "goner", mostly because I did not want to have to start referring to that area as the “City of Lost Children”. Well, last night with it freshly mowed, I decided it would be the perfect opportunity to look for lost baseballs. I quickly found 3, and stomped around looking for more. About 5-10 minutes after I'd given up my search, the husband, who'd been mowing our yard, moved to the edge of grass right by COLB, and quickly went into hysterics...um I mean moved into hero- mode pushing us all back in one fall swoop, running into the house with lightning speed, and emerging with his weapon of choice (Gavin's .22) stopping the evil culprit in his tracks.

And who was this evil culprit I speak of? Why this guy right here:

Readers meet Mr. Copperhead, guardian of City of Lost Baseballs. I'm not usually afraid of snakes, not that I love them, but they don't bother me, say like those little spawns of satan spiders. Guys, I was physically ill, after this incident, knowing I stomped (yes stomped, the grass was tall, and I was feeling for baseballs with my shoes) in an area where I could have ...should have been Copperhead appetizer!

Tidbits of Useless Information about me...

**I can't spit-probably a good thing considering it's not ladylike, but I've taken lots of razzing over the years, about the way I spit when I brush my teeth...I think it's hereditary though.

**Honestly, my dad can't spit either. Other things I've inherited from my father, slow loss of baby teeth, gray eyes, being left eye dominant, and a love of Calvin & Hobbes and Farside comic strips. :-)

**I put crushed red pepper on my meals a lot of the time, in order to force me to drink more water-I'm just not a big water drinker, and I know how important it is that I drink enough, so I help it along..

**I actually have a very quick temper. This surprises a lot of people, but I also get over my anger and can forgive very quickly.

**I'd like to get a boob job. The husband says no way, he's worked with too many guys who's wives split after having their tatas done..I've offered to have legal paperwork drawn up to convince him I'm not doing this to better myself for someone else, but for myself and for him, but he's still unconvinced.

**My two favorite places in the whole world are my front porch, and my bed.

**Sometimes when I laugh at Family Guy, I say a quick prayer for forgiveness, because most of the content...is just wrong. Witty, but wrong.

**When it's just Maddie and me out for the day, we like to go thru KFC and order mashed potatoes and gravy and a pepsi. Gavin and I are sushi buddies. Cash and I don't have a "thing" yet, but boy we like our McDonalds apple dippers.

**If someone is going too slow, I will ride their ass, unless they have a really clever or endearing bumper sticker then I will back off.

**Sometimes I think I like spicy food, more than I actually do. I don't know why I feel the need to constantly torture my taste buds...oh wait yes I do, it's to force myself to drink more water.

**I've found in the last 5 years everytime I thought it was a fantastic idea to do a cartwheel....I've been very wrong.

**I googled if sharks were attracted to menstruating women once, because if I happened to receive a visit from aunt flo I didn't want to be the cause of my family becoming shark food...apparently I'm the only person on Earth to have had this concern, because my question was not "recognized" on google, bing, or ask.com.

**I'm extremely old fashioned. I would love to be June Cleaver...I'm very maternal in a "Hello, Dear, How was your day, I made an apple pie"kind of way, and frighteningly I think the husband kind of likes me in Stepford mode.

**For awhile, and then he wants me back to normal. And by normal, I mean my endearingly neurotic self.

On Saturday while watching my two older children swing off of the rope swing at the river, I had this giant shove from my inner 12 year old to join in the fun. Right at the point that I should have let go and dropped into the water, my boring 30 year old self reappeared, and had cold feet, literally! Not about the plunge so much as the temperature of the water after my plunge. (I like 87 degree or higher swimming conditions if you please)I "thought" I would just swing back right where I started from all graceful-like, however, the extra 6 inches in length I had over the kiddos did not work out to my advantage no matter how small I tried to scrunch myself. Ending in the removal of skin from my Achilles tendon down to my heal, (say it with me...OUCH) and a ginormous purple bruise on the booty. It didn't hurt much at the time, because the ol' pride took a little bigger hit. However, the next day...I was moving at turtle pace. Those "day-afters" get you every time!

Fast-forward to my lunch hour today. I work out at the gym a couple days a week, and while I knew I couldn't use the treadmill or elliptical because of my current condition, I didn't want to not go, because I'm in a routine I've worked very hard to follow, and I know myself well enough to know if I skipped today, tomorrow would be even easier to skip, and before long, I wouldn't be working out at all. So, I planned on just doing weight training. When I pulled up, I went thru my usual argument in my head, “should I take my purse, or just my cell, surely no one will call, but what if they do, nah, no one will…but...if I leave my purse I need to lock my vehicle...ugh I hate carrying a purse, leave everything out here, and just take my keys”...seriously you need a scrambler to decipher what goes on in my head. In the end I decided leave everything (including my keys, unfortunately) in the vehicle and lock it.

I noticed what I did right away, but there was nothing I could do at that moment, so went on in, and worked out....then gimped to my office about the time I knew my mom would get back to loan me her keys, so that I could jot home and get my spare. And yes, I gimped, painfully. When passing cars drove by, I would smile, wave, and try with all of my might to put weight on my left foot, or I would stop and act like I was looking at something, because I didn’t want passers-by to stop, and ask if I was okay, and then I’d have to go into this huge schpill about the rope swings, locking my keys in my car..Etc, I just didn’t have the energy.

All is well, now, though, I have my spare keys in possession, comfortable flip-flops on my feet, and a sense of humor about the situation!

I'm a spaz by nature, and it's really hard for me to relax. I’ve always credited my husband, for making me stop and smell the roses, but last night the roles were reversed. We've both been really busy, and have worked really hard this week, and from the moment I left work yesterday, I was determined to take the night off. Unfortunately, I couldn't escape all chores. I helped Cody mow grass(until I was stung by a rabid sweat bee on my elbow, hey it hurt, okay). Before, I let Cody finish the mowing,I asked him to put together the grill we got him for Father's Day. He was in full on working mode, and looked at me like I'd just asked him cartwheel naked down Main St.

Cody: Why don't you have Maddie fry them?
Me: Because she's an 11 year old girl, and I don't feel comfortable having her "fry" stuff.
Cody: Why don't you go fry them, then?
Me: Because I want to sit around the grill and drink beer.
Cody: Why didn't you just say so?

I didn't say it took much effort convincing the man to stop and smell the roses, I simply said roles were reversed.

(By the way, LOVE the new grill. It's electric, and while it took some convincing from my brother to go this route, it was great advice. No charcoal, no lighter fluid, no gas tank, you plug it in, and voila perfectly grilled hamburgers. Okay, that may be a bit of an exaggeration, but I will go as far to say, while I don't let my 11 year old "fry", I'd consider letting her grill electric. And am I allowed to put all of the stuff I just wrote in parenthesis like I just did?)

After our wonderful meal of grilled hamburgers, corn on the cob, homemade macaroni and cheese, and fried potatoes (while it doesn't take much for Cody to stop and smell the roses, it doesn't take much to get me back in Angie spaz mode, either)Cody suggested we take a four-wheeler ride. It was right around dusk, and while my head was screaming:” KID’S NEED A BATH, CLEAN UP THE KITCHEN, MADDIE NEEDS TO PRACTICE PITCHING!!!" my heart said,” Why not?" Cody hooked up the four-wheeler trailer, and put a hay bale in it, so the kid's could have a mock-hayride. The humidity had gone down a bit, and it felt like such a perfect night. Scratch that, it was a perfect night, by my definition.

While it was a bit chaotic with baths to give and kitchen’s to clean, it was worthwhile bonding time. The kid’s didn’t bicker, just took in nature. Maddie even put her cell phone away, which I’d thought was a permanent fixture to her thumbs. Hopefully, one day the kids will look back on nights we shared together like this one, and say to their children, “Those were the days”.

Day off?

Yesterday (and all Wednesday's for that matter) was my day off. But I use the term "day off" very loosely. Usually, on Tuesday nights, sometime in the conversation my husband will say, "oh, yeah, your off tomorrow". For someone reason this makes me cringe, a little. It's not like I'm hopping the next flight for the French Riviera. Here's a little inside look to my day off.

*Slept in until 7:15 a.m., and started my first of 5 loads of laundry.
*Made smoothies ('cause someone got a new blender!) and french toast for the kid's.
*Swept/mopped/vacuumed every room
*Stripped the bedsheets
*Dusted the living room
*Power cleaned the kitchen and bathrooms.
*Made the kid's pizza for lunch
*Stopped everything for a moment to take the kid's swimming at my parents house
*Put the little one down for his nap
*Did more laundry
*Cleaned out the pantry-there was a sack of potatoes that was on it's way to being vodka
*Made all of the beds and put laundry away
*Washed living room windows...not because I wanted to, but in my children's effort to help...they used my "dusting" rag, on the windows therefore smearing them to the point I thought my blood sugar was low, and my vision had blurred.
*Made an incredible recipe that I will post in the future, for dinner...baked chicken with artichokes, tomatoes, and pesto
*Walked 3 miles
*Went for a 4 Wheeler ride with two of my children and noticed that the blackberries are ready..pleasant surprise.
*Played catcher to my daughter (who pitches)
*Made brownies
*Cleaned up kitchen
*Made my husband's lunch for the following day.
*Watered my flowers
*Gave baths.
*Tucked in my two older children, kissed the husband who was watching t.v.
*Read Cash a story about whales....(bonus points)I didn't even pull the trick where you turn 2 pages, instead of one, so that the story gets over faster, even thought the material was less than thrillling.

Now I'm at work today, and while it's busy...it's a little bit of a vacay compared to ahem....my day off.

Un Margarita, por favor.....

Who is the new owner of an incredible smoothie maker??!! Um, this girl, right here! Last week, my husband had to make a quick run to his shop, based in Jefferson City, and proposed we eat at a local Mexican restaurant,since he'd won a 50.00 gift certificate in a golf tournament fundraiser. Does he know how to wine and dine a girl, or what? "Hey, baby, I have to run by the shop for material, wanna go get some free chimis"? He knows the way to my heart! Anyway, being the lightweight drinker, I am, or being that our waiter was incredibly impressed with my 3rd grade level Spanish...the tequila in my margaritas got the best of me. And what does Angie do, when fueled by liquor...uh, apparently she goes to Wal-mart(the new one, and how fun is that new circle yield thing they have going on?-no I wasn't driving just enjoying the ride)and buys a really fun blender. How I managed to get home without the husband noticing this fantastic purchase is beyond me...because it wasn't like I was trying to hide the fact I bought it.I mean it's not like I was....shoe shopping or anything. Where I leave them in the trunk until the coast is clear, and sneak them up to the closet with lightning speed, and the stealth of a ninja.

While sometimes he rolls his eyes at my purchases, he's never really complained about my need(compulsion) for kitchen gadgets. After a few nights of smoothies and vanilla milkshakes I think I can safely say, he is liking the blender very well.

Just Wondering

You know how your supposed to be a "good Christian"? Love thy neighbor and all of that? I'm wondering why God would set this rule, and then create PMS? Not only do I not necessarily love thy neighbors at the moment, I'm pretty sure to my "neighbors"...the feeling is mutual. How am I supposed to lead this Godly life, when one week out of the month-I have incurable road rage, cry at Gatorade commercials, eat my weight in chocolate, and just feel downright unlovable? It's just one of those unanswerable questions, along with why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle? But it does make me wonder how I can live a good life, when my emotions are completely askew this week!

My life's calling...

...is not beautician extraordinaire. I've been incredibly lucky that when it comes to haircuts for my boys, both big boy’s (Cody) and little boy’s (Gavin & Cash)...my very talented and generous mother-in-law cuts their hair. I figure 3 boy's x's say 10.00 (10.00 per child, per hair cut) x 8 (number of haircuts per year at a rate of 1 haircut every six weeks) = 240 annually. That adds up over the years. My mother-in-law is always ready to give a haircut, if she has the time...but we don't call in and make appointments like we would if she were doing this for a living. And much of time, when Cody decides he wants his hair cut...he wants it cut right then! Which leads me to my story...

Cody was in desperate need of a haircut (or so he thought) Saturday morning. His mother was unavailable, so he looks over at me, and said, "Why don't you cut my hair" (and I'm not really sure what punctuation to even put here, because while his question started with "why" he didn't ask, it was definitely more of a demand). I answered,” No, because we all know how I did in art class." And yet he somehow convinced me that my lack of talent in the art department didn't mean I couldn't cut his hair...Oh, boy was he wrong.

I actually did pretty well, until the very end, when I was evening up his sides...that's when the major faux pas occurred. He now looks like Hitler on his left side. To make matters worse, after I committed this awful mistake, and he told me to just do the same on the other side, I was laughing so hard, that the right side looks even worse..if in fact that is EVEN possible! I'm so glad he had such a great sense of humor about the whole situation. At any rate I told him he must wear a hat everywhere until his hair grows out, and was excused from church as well, since that's pretty much the only place he goes without his hat on. And I'm pretty sure, I'll never be asked to cut his hair again.

I'm needing my outlet back (my blog), and I REALLY want to stick with it, not go M.I.A. for months at a time like I've done in the past. I love being able to type my feelings, and with the click of a button post my cares away! I would also like to start honing my writing skills again. It's something I love very much, but with having a job along with motherhood, it gets put on the backburner more often than not. When I feel the (self-induced) pressure of not posting enough, or not finding the time to post, my stress-reliever starts to...stress me out!

It's no big secret stress-management and myself do not go hand in hand. Just the other day, I was having a mini-meltdown over the list of toiletries I needed to buy for the family. The husband has no idea how much thought goes into the buying of everyday items! Soap for instance....I need somthing that will wash all of my family's "2000 body parts", without "leaving a sticky film that won't rinse away"-one child needs extra moisturization, one's got extremely sensitve, yet extremely kissable skin, and 3 don't want to smell like a girl, something about when you sweat and emit the oders of Island Breeze, apparently not so manly! When buying detergent, I need something that won't balk in the face of grass stains, chocolate, or Gasconade River mud, but smells good...just not too much like a girl. I used to use Febreeze scented fabric softener, but it seems in the summer when sweating occurs, lavendar-while calming- just doesn't cut it on the workforce or the ballfield! And Cody wonders why, I sit at the table, surrounded by pink post-its and sale-ads before going shopping...it's tedious and stressful..and if I ever hit the lotto, I would definitely look into a personal shopper, or a personal worrier. I don't want to stress out over toilet paper, and how Spider-Man toothpaste, doesn't taste as good as Spongebob toothpaste, and which child prefers which! So, for all of you who are reading my nuttiness----I'M BAAACKKK!

I'm so proud....

I received a phone call from my sister-in-law on Monday, wanting to know if we would like to accompany her family to St Louis to see Elmo. Now, I'm not sure if Elmo is "on ice" or what, but my first impression was "hell to the no". The thought of a two hour trip to see Elmo, kind of sounded a bit like torture. I nicely explained that I would run it by Coad and get back with her.
So our conversation went a bit like this.

Me: We were invited to St Louis to see Elmo.
Coad: (blank stare, might have become slack jawed and drooled a little)
Me: Is that a no?
Coad: Do our kid's even know who Elmo is?
Me: I'm not sure, and that disturbs me, because they know all the words to "Down with the Sickness". I think our parenting is a little out of whack. I think we need to take one for the team and go see Elmo.
Coad: (blank stare, might have become slack jawed and drooled a little) Do our kid's even know who Elmo is?
Me: (to Gavin as he passed thru the living room) Gavin, what do you think about Elmo?
Gavin: (afer pondering this a few seconds) Sounds like a drunk guy to me.

I, then got the "I told you so" shrug from my husband, and we politely declined the invitation.