after the egg hunt

at home - 14 minutes after the egg hunt.

me -
"hey g - where are your eggs?"
(read - mommy wants your chocolate)

g -
"what eggs?"

me -
"YOUR eggs?!"

g -
"huh? - i don't want any eggs."

me -
"your EGGS, the easter EGGS, from the EGG HUNT! just now!"

g -
"oh! those eggs! they are in the kitchen."

sheesh.

revelations

while watching yo gabba gabba,
(much better than boo-bahs or barney,
but not as good as spongebob, obviously)

k -
"how come there are voices coming out,
but their mouths aren't moving?"

me -
"i think maybe they are people,
wearing costumes."

k -
"NUH-UH mommy!
that is so crazy."

me -
"oh, well, i was just guessing."

a few minutes later,

k -
"mommy! i think i see a zipper!
maybe you ARE right!"

me -
"hmm, really."

two revelations.
in one day.
what a smart kid.

losing it

this weekend i noticed
my coat* is missing.

the only reason i noticed is because
it was cold this weekend.
again.

that's the only reason!?!
otherwise i would have never
even noticed.

it's official - i'm losing it.

gone is the organized woman
who knew where everything was
at any given moment.
and the worst part?
i don't even care that much.

about the coat, i mean.
it's a columbia winter coat.
bought on sale.
when i was pregnant with g.
over 7 years ago.
it's a good coat.
a warm coat.
but still.
7 years?

there is a little tear on one side,
where i slammed it in the car door once.
and i never found any gloves that matched
the shade of pink on the front.
i don't even really like it all that much.
pink isn't my fav.

but the issue that bothers me,
other than the obvious -
(how the #@!& i could lose a coat?)
is what could be in the pockets.

money, keys, money, toys, money, coupons, money?
this is driving me even more crazy
than the growing list of where the coat could be.

i've been to banks, restaurants, schools, meetings,
the cleaners, gymnastics meets, friends' houses,
malls, play places, dressing rooms, fast food, games,
the list is endless.

oh and i can't even remember the last time i wore it.
but i do know this -
it isn't at the gym.
there's something.
i guess.

so if you've seen my coat,
please let me know,
and put me out of my misery.
how can a person walk into a place with a coat,
then just leave,
without?

at least i still know where the kids are
at any given moment.
well, mostly.

*what else is lost and i don't even know?!?

sunday confession

menu confession -

sunday - lasagna
monday - shrimp and feta
tuesday - sloppy joes
wednesday - tortellini
thursday - pizza wraps for lunch
friday - pizza

yes, that is tomato sauce, for 6 days.
in a row.
plus mm packed leftovers.
so he ate tomato sauce
for at least 10 meals.
i only feel a little guilty about this.

also...
four of us turned off the lights
for earth hour last night,
but not mm,
as wvu was playing basketball.
(read - kicking ass)
i'm sure mother earth understands.

speaking of wvu,
i haven't watched any of the games.
on purpose.
i get way too nervous.
but it seems to be working so far.
i guess this means i won't be watching
the next game either.

bonus -
i gave up soda for lent.
i've never been so excited for easter.
i think i'm having a giant dr. pepper.
with lots of ice.

what's your sunday confession?
the confessional is open.

wordless thursday

yep.

in the same boat

me, on the edge -
"omg! i get up at the same time.
every morning.
way too freaking early!
make the same breakfast.
talk to the same people.
do the same thing.
day after day after day!
same laundry, same dishes, same toys!
ugh, the monotony,
ugh, the boredom,
same, same, same old!
i'm completely exhausted!
and i think i'm going insane!
DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THAT'S LIKE???"

mm, thoughtful -
"uh yeah, i do."

p.m.s.

pajama mom syndrome
symptoms may include...

1. while changing earrings,
your kids ask if you are going somewhere fancy.
"like target?"
2. your husband sometimes asks, "so, did you shower today?"
as if the answer is not obvious.
3. he asks you again. the. next. day.
4. you own a pair of "dressy" pajama pants.
for preschool drop-off.
5. your car can drive to gymnastics on auto pilot.
but not the gym.
6. you try to shop for new clothes,
but quickly realize that since
you aren't a 20-something or an old lady,
choices are limited.
so you buy shoes instead.
7. your kids have newer "unmentionables" than you.
8. you can't remember the last time you had a haircut.
9. you have holes in your jeans,
not because you are cool,
but because you have worn them almost everyday.
for. the. last. five. years.
10. you put on makeup and your kids don't recognize you.
same with high heels.

bonus - you walk around town secretly hoping
stacy and clinton are taping you for their show.

anyone else having symptoms?

dear deodorant

a break-up letter.

dear deodorant,

it is over.
i just don't feel the same way about you
that i once did.

we haven't been happy for a long time.
i know, we did the best we could,
but it is just not working out.

i could lie and say it is me,
but it is really you.

so i am leaving you.
i do love you,
but i want to see what else is out there.

i just can't commit anymore.
it wouldn't be right.

xo,
pj

p.s. all those times you let me down,
and i pretended it was okay,
i was faking.

and btw - i hate that stupid old pickup truck,
you never let me drive.

with six you get eggroll

i am packed.
to go with my mother
to the greenbrier.
again!

mm is watching the kids.
for the whole weekend.
gymnastics,
gymnastics meet,
school,
ncaa basketball,
and a birthday party.
all of it.
may the force be with him.

when i posted last year
about the greenbrier,
what i didn't mention,
is that just the day before i left,
we closed the baby factory.
forever.

the conversation went something like this...
me - "so... do you think you would want any more kids?"
mm - pause - "heck no, i'm done, three is good."
me - long pause - "oh, whew, i'm SO glad you said that."

and after four pregnancies,
and three babies,
i was done.
just like that.

most days over the past year,
i have been happy with our decision.
oh - i did spend 2.4 days wondering
what the hell we were thinking,
and i've always wanted five kids,
and i want it reversed right now.

then there were also around 35.7 days
that i wanted to call the doctor
and personally thank her again
for making sure i never have any more kids.

but the rest of the time,
i am content.
truly content,
and focused on raising these three.
right.

i don't know how i knew i was done,
but i just did.
and as much as i hated to admit defeat,
i finally did.

and now we can all look forward
to our future as
a party of five.

and i'll try not to think about it too often,
but, as ya'll know,
with six you get eggroll...

dear maker(s) of black pants

dear maker(s) of black pants,

i need a pair.
pronto.

not too long,
not too short,
not too tight,
not too loose.

not skinny ones,
not boot cut.

no glitter,
appliques,
buckles,
studs,
jewels,
or funky
sashes
attached.

and no slippery material.
just black pants!

please.

xo,
pj

laundry by the numbers

since we have a third-grader
studying multiplication tables,
i thought i'd give her an assignment.
let's call it homeschooling.
yeah, that sounds good.

first assignment -
add/multiply laundry for the week.

here's what she came up with...

shirts - 5 people X 1 shirt X 7 days = 35 shirts
pants - 5 people X 1 pant X 7 days = 35 pants
socks - 5 people X 2 socks X 7 days = 70 socks
underwear - 5 people X 1 underwear X 7 days = 35 underwear
pajamas - 5 people X 1 pajamas X 2 pieces X 3 days = 30 pajamas
towels - 5 people X 1 towel X 2 days = 10 towels

grand total = 215 items
sorta crazy, huh?

this does not count sheets,
4 beds X 4 pieces X 1 day = 16 sheets
(note to self, change sheets)
coats, sweatshirts, blankets, wash cloths, dishtowels,
or multiple changes in one day,
leotards (4) - basketball uniforms (1)
- workout clothes for mm (5-10)

the same darn clothes.
every. freaking. week.
no wonder i'm so frazzled!

next multiplication assignment - dishes.
isn't "homeschooling" awesome?

p.s. sunday confession - i am secretly
relieved that wvu did not get a #1 seed.

mystery top ten

10. i. used. a. hairdryer.
9. oj in my fridge - is not from concentrate.
8. fresh towels in the loo.
7. i have on a fancy t-shirt - it's a v-neck, yo!
6. actual candies in the candy dish.
5. red lobster is on the menu.
4. the kids got up at 6am on the dot.
3. the playroom is clean and i vacuumed out the couch.
2. the car has been de-cluttered.
1. k has asked me the same question every 30 seconds.
for the last 4 hours.

bonus - i feel the need to get out all my easter decorations.
and light some candles.

can you solve the mystery?

share your stuff

our brownie troop has teamed up
with the elementary school
to collect shoes for
share your soles.

m has a bag of 7 pairs of shoes,
g has a bag of 4 pairs of shoes,
and k has a bag of 10 pairs of shoes,
to share.

this weekend we focused on the girls' room.
and since i missed sunday confession,
here's one for ya* -
m is much better at getting rid of things
than i am.

we had conversations like this...
"i don't need these shoes anymore."
"are you sure? maybe for church or something?"
"i never use these hair bands."
"but you might someday, right?"
"i'm done with these art projects."
"uh, really? but you worked so hard on them."
and so on.

i didn't know whether to be proud or horrified.

she easily dumped over 50 items...
tickets, old lip gloss, candy, broken earrings,
stretched out hair bands, socks, and
the list goes on and on.
i'll be conservative and stick with 50.

also...
10 backpacks
seriously, 10, wtf?
and i totally cried over the blues clues backpack.
8 purses
and i totally cried over the dora purse.
2 cloth shopping bags

and from k's dresser...
13 pairs of tights
good lord.
12 pairs of pants
27 shirts!
most of these are hand-me-downs
that will go live with e in wv.

total for this week = 143
grand total = 143+50 = 193

and we're on our way.
next up - g's room.
lots more k clothes in there.

*i ate long john silvers fish on friday, texas roadhouse country fried steak on saturday, and leftovers on sunday. oh, and i found out that the chicken chipotle sandwich i ate at panera last week is on the worst sandwiches in america list. 56. grams. of. fat.
i may need a nutrition intervention.

after the game

at home - 14 minutes after the game.

me-
"so, g - how was the basketball game?"
g-
"what basketball game?"
me-
"YOUR basketball game?!"
g-
"huh?"
me-
"your game, THE GAME, the one you played in just now?!?"
g-
"oh! that one. we lost."

sheesh.

the age of silly

as if the eons of whine weren't enough,
our house has dawned on
the age of silly.

suddenly, everything is funny.
e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.
especially meal time.
car rides.
or any time parents are ticked off.
grins. chuckles. full out laughter.

at first, we thought it was so cute.
the three of them,
conspiring together,
giggling non-stop,
because the baby sang,
"dora, dora, dora, the dumb-dumb."
or some other hilarious ditty.

but now it's a constant barrage
of jokes that don't make sense,
slapstick humor,
(totally gets a laugh. every. time.)
noises, fake toots, wacky songs, etc.

each of them trying to outdo the other,
louder and louder,
shouting, squealing, milk flying out of noses,
you get the idea.

we are trying to power through,
but our faces have these tight fake smiles
most of the time.
oh, sometimes, yes, we laugh too.
(falling down is funny, ya'll!)
but other times, we get ticked and try
to make the silly stop.
which backfires every time.
clearly, you just can't stop the silly.

so we shake our heads,
and wonder just how long the age of silly lasts?
oh - and kick ourselves for complaining so much
about the eons of whine.
i'm missing a good whine about now.

but mostly,
we are really, really nervous
and terrified, let's be honest,
about what comes after
the age of silly.

speaking of fairies

since we've had two posts in a row
mentioning fairies,
i thought i'd do a third.
i'm superstitious that way.
or ocd.
whatever.

there has been lots of discussion
in our house this week of fairies.
i blame tinkerbell.
she's everywhere suddenly.
what's up with that?

back to discussions...
whether fairies exist or not?
how does she know when you've lost a tooth?
what does she use the teeth for anyway?
how does she carry the teeth?
what if you don't have the actual tooth?
will she still leave you money?
couldn't you just trick her that way?
how does she carry all of that money?
does she come every night to check?
if so, isn't that kinda creepy?
etc.

but fortunately for us,
m has a good friend, p,
who has seen the tooth fairy.
for real!

so whenever g has any doubts,
m describes the tooth fairy,
as told to her by p.

as tall as your hand,
pink outfit,
rainbow wings,
sparkly,
etc.

this testament erases all doubt.
and is awesome to witness.
thanks, p!

now, if we only had an easter bunny siting.
anyone?