Pics

I wanted to add some recent pics of the kids for those who haven't seen them for awhile. I welcome comments, but please note that I am trying to keep the blog anonymous, so I am not using their real names.

Because we love nicknames, it was fun getting to choose some that fit just as well as their "real" names, if not even better! Here they are:


Drama Queen



















Persnickety Pete





















Screech



















Despite the tongue-in-cheek names, I am truly blessed and am thankful for the unique personalities of my children! It's funny; most of the traits that earned them their names are those they got from me.

Drama Queen is passionate and enthusiastic about EVERYTHING. (She, too, enjoys enhancing her writing with bold fonts, all caps and LOTS of exclamation points!!!!!!!!!!)

In Persnickety Pete's world, everything must be just a certain way or he's bent out of shape.

Screech has her mama's temper! I'm also quite sure she is the child that my mother-in-law wished upon my husband; see yesterday's post, For the "Someday I'll Look Back and Laugh" File.

For the "Someday I'll Look Back and Laugh" File

The Joy of Toddlers
a play in one naughty act
by The (Almost) Amazing Mammarino

Cast of Characters

Mom - A hardworking homeschooler who is sick, on medicine that makes her feel worse, and is generally having "one of those days"

Drama Queen - Mom's oldest child, a girl, age 7

Persnickety Pete - Mom's second child, a 5 year old boy

Screech - Mom's youngest child, a high maintenance girl, age 21 months

Setting: A disheveled home with puzzle pieces dumped on the floor, papers strewn everywhere, and math manipulatives scattered in each room. Mom, half asleep, is in the kitchen slapping together some sandwiches for lunch. Drama Queen, Persnickety Pete, and Screech are not less than 6 feet away in the homeschool room, doing who knows what.

Mom: Drama Queen, what is Screech doing?

Drama Queen: Disinterested. I dunno.

Mom: Persnickety Pete, what is Screech doing?

Persnickety Pete: She's just playing with something.

Mom: Suspicious. Playing with what?

Persnickety Pete: Ummmm . . .

The mayo-encrusted knife clatters to the counter as Mom rushes to investigate.



Screech, wearing a brand new blouse and her best jumper, is surrounded by half-empty containers of Halloween makeup. Mom cries.

Not "The End"

(There's never an end when you have a toddler!!!!!)

Not wishing this blog entry to be entirely negative, I thought I'd give you a sneak peek into my prayer life today . . .


Father, thank you . . .

. . . that there were fresh batteries in my camera,
. . . that no makeup found its way onto our (very) white carpet,
. . . that I didn't say any naughty words,
. . . that the makeup came off easily with soap and water, and
. . . for my funny, sweet girl, who is a limitless source of blog material!

Brassiere Gear

My 21 month old loves to carry purses around. She will carry around anything that has a handle (or strip of material resembling a handle) and announce, "Go bye-bye!" Previous pseudo-purses have included bibs, hats, and articles of clothing. Her purse of choice today was one of my bras which she pilfered from the laundry basket. What disturbed me was that considering the size and depth of the cups, it actually could pass for a two-compartment carryall, albeit a peculiar one.

I used to dress up like a funny old country lady and read aloud the children's book, Possum Come a-Knockin' by Nancy Van Laan. It started out as a stunt for a Gong Show-style fundraiser for a Christian teen outreach ministry, then I later did it for schools, reading conferences, and even my sick sister in the hospital. The costume was hysterical. I found a garish floral blouse and wraparound skirt to clash at Goodwill, then added rolled-down knee high stockings (think Mama's Family) and workboots. I topped it all off with dangly, baubly jewelry, Halloween eyeglasses (the ones with pictures of eyes on the lenses), a battered baseball cap and my favorite, the Billy Bob teeth. What really completed the look, though, was the bra. I had bought the biggest one I could find at Wal-Mart and stuffed it with two large water balloons. Being 8 months pregnant with my first child at the time, you can imagine how outrageously funny this looked.

What depressed me, though, is that after I had my baby and started nursing, that bra fit perfectly! Sigh . . . and to think that once upon a time I got busted for stuffing my tiny training bra with Kleenex. Yep, those were the good ole days!

Climbing Mount Washmore

It's easy to get behind on laundry when you're homeschooling, but y'all, this is really bad. I am finally going through my mountain of special needs laundry: sweaters, frou-frou church dresses, and the worst - the dreaded stain pile. I don't mind doing laundry, but I DESPISE stain treating. (It doesn't help that I'm a perfectionist and will wash an item 67 times to get out a speck of mustard a millimeter in diameter.) Because of this, I conveniently get all the laundry done except the stained clothes. The pile kept growing and growing until it threatened to topple over and smother us all. Seeing that we enjoy breathing so much, I decided to chip away at the pile tonight. I've made some startling discoveries:

- I'm further behind than I had thought;

- There are several boy's outfits in the stain pile sized 24 months and smaller (my son currently wears a size 6); and

- I've discovered quite a few hand-me-downs that will fit my 21 month old little girl (my older daughter is in second grade).

Whoooooo boy. I just started a hearty washerful of "laundry soup" with some of the more salvageable clothing, two cups of Tide and 3 packets of Oxy Clean. I'm going to let it soak for awhile. (Maybe a month.)

The really bad stuff needs more drastic treatment. Enter the famous stain recipe (thanks to The Tightwad Gazette). When I had just one easy infant (and made my own baby food and baby wipes, stayed current on her scrapbook, and had this whole mommy thing down pat), I had a batch of this stuff going 24/7. Blowout? No prob. Just rinse, throw the vile garment in for a few days, stir every once in awhile, then wash as usual. POOF! No stain! Here it is:

Stain Recipe

1 cup Clorox II (no substitutions)
1 cup Cascade (no substitutions)
5 gallons of the hottest water to come from the faucet

Mix together in a large pail with tight-fitting lid (to keep out curious toddlers). Add colorfast items (learned this the hard way) and soak for as long as needed, stirring every day, then wash as usual. I usually soak until the stain is almost gone, spray with Shout or Spray & Wash, then wash as usual.

True story: On a trip to California when my firstborn was 6 months old, we traveled on a lonely stretch of highway for hours without finding any source for warm water to make a bottle. (She was one of those that HAD to have it at just the right temperature or she refused it.) The only other things I had to feed her were several jars of strained carrots. What a mess! The terry cloth bib she had been wearing got stuffed into her diaper bag and forgotten - for over 3 months. When I discovered the wretched thing, it could have passed for a Halloween accessory. The furry black mildew complimented the carrots just perfectly. Never one to throw anything away, I shrugged my shoulders and tossed it into the stain bucket. I left it in there for about four months, so it went through several changes of solution. By the time I washed it, it was as good as new - no trace of mildew or carrots! (Stubbornness CAN pay off sometimes!)

She's Pretty Chatty

The idea of blogging has lured me for quite some time. I just love to talk!

When I was in the delivery room about to have baby #2, I had been having a rough time with the contractions. After the beloved epidural, I must have been giddy with relief. My husband was on his way in as the nurse was leaving my room. "How is she?" he asked. The nurse raised her eyebrows. "She's pretty chatty!" she declared.

Medical procedures seem to bring this out in me. Another time, I'd had some kind of IV anesthesia when I had wisdom teeth removed. Hubby came to pick me up afterward and later told me that I had been talking a blue streak. I have absolutely no memory of this. Hopefully I didn't blab about my ATM pin, bra size, or Grandmother's chocolate pie recipe.

Being a homeschool mom, I am often desperate for adult conversation. Since going to the doctor is expensive and not much fun anyway, I figured a healthier way to way to share my dreams, hopes, and fears would be to start a blog. Here goes!

Life in the Fast Lane?

I got a well-deserved speeding ticket today. Sorry - no exciting story about how I was cruising the freeway in a candy apple red convertible with the top down and my bleached blond mane whipping about my face. Nope. And no, I wasn't making a mad dash to the hospital to save my dying child's life. Uh-uh. I wasn't even running late. No, I was bebopping along in my little minivan on my way to my 7-year-old's violin lesson, singing "Get on Board, Little Children" at the top of my lungs. Seems that the tempo on the Wee Sing CD got faster and faster and, well, I got caught up in the spirit of it all.

Not only was I going 69 in a 45 mph school zone, I had never quite gotten around to acquiring new tags when we moved to Georgia 3 months ago. Oops.

As he handed me an invitation to breakfast with an esteemed public official (okay, okay - it just sounded better than "speeding ticket" or "court summons"), the police officer spied my kids' Auto Safety Bingo cards lying in the seat next to me. He couldn't get past the irony.

Because I was going 24 miles over the speed limit I HAVE to go to court. Well, maybe that's not so bad. I'll have to get a sitter for the kiddies, so I may as well make a day of it . . . an uninterrupted afternoon at Starbucks would be nice . . .

Then again, if I dragged them along, maybe the judge would see all of them and feel sorry for me and let me off easy . . .

Nah! I desperately NEED a Starbucks day if my primary source of entertainment is a kiddie CD from the 80's!