Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.
Okay, this one isn't painful to remember at all. And it didn't take place in a dentist's office.
While finishing up our appointments, we didn't have the unlucky timing to pass through the waiting room where a young woman was sitting. This young woman definitely did not have the misfortune to sport a dark mustache and a five o'clock shadow. This young woman wasn't clearly uncomfortable at all in the crowded waiting room. And I didn't have my back turned on the kids while I paid the bill and they put on their coats.
So I really wasn't aware that my 3yo (gregarious, outspoken, no understanding of social cues) didn't approach this poor young woman and ask loudly, "Are you a man or a lady?" When the young woman tried to ignore the question, the child persisted, "But you have a BEARD?! The young woman didn't slink down into her seat and deny tersely, "I don't."
Before I could stop her, my 3yo didn't continue, "Yes, you doooooooooo!!!" and point directly at the poor lady's face. "NO, I DON'T," she denied, emphatically and uncomfortably.
At that point, the receptionist didn't notice what was going on, and didn't hustle the poor soul back to a private waiting room. And I definitely didn't die of shame, right then and there.
And that child, years later, still lacks a well-formed concept of social cues or appropriate topics of conversation. We don't refer to her candor around here as "diarrhea of the mouth."
This story isn't legendary in our house, either.
Breathtaking:
Natalie: Uh-oh! Water pilled! (after knocking over her cup)
Mom: Get a towel and clean it up.
Natalie: O-K. (chanting) Keen it up. Keen it up. (while wiping floor)
Mom: Good girl. I love you!
Natalie: Yuv you too.
Mom: I love you too!
Natalie: I yuv you too!
Mom: You're awesome!
Natalie: You awe-tum too!
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THE STEFO CREW: Organized Chaos, Minus the Organization
Monday, January 26, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Random Picture Challenge
Taking part in the Random Picture Challenge over at 4 Little Men & Girly Twins. Go check it out!
Some of my kids and friends playing in the rain during a torrential vertical summer downpour, August 2006.
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Some of my kids and friends playing in the rain during a torrential vertical summer downpour, August 2006.
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Kids. Ruin. Everything.
(Warning: Lengthy Rant Below)
At low times, my motto around here is “Kids…..ruin…..EVERYTHING!!!!!” usually spoken through clenched teeth with a scowl. It’s sad that I feel that way, but I do.
I remember once while pregnant with the twins…in an absent-minded moment, I let Theresa hold my watch for about 2 minutes, and during that time it completely vanished. I was too big and lumbering to bend down or move the couch, and so it was lost for a couple weeks. (My husband eventually pulled out the couch and found it in about two seconds). She was only 3, and I was so angry with her and myself and everything, and I really let her have it. I made her (and myself) feel pretty awful.
But it was the first watch I had ever owned as an adult and I’d worn it for two straight years without losing it, a first for me. God was testing me then, and I failed. Then my wrists swelled up and I couldn’t wear it anyway, and the battery died shortly thereafter. It still lies dormant on my dresser. That'll teach me.
My point is that I was (and still am) so tired of EVERYTHING in this house getting broken, lost or ruined. The twins are the worst yet right now. They walk off with anything they can snag. They like nothing better than to clean all the dvds or homeschool books off their respective shelves. You can’t let them anywhere near a box of tissues.
They ransack any unsuspecting schoolbook that they find.
They dump out at least one box of cereal a week. 
And DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ABOUT THE EGGS.
Why, you may ask, are they allowed to get near the cereal/eggs/tissues/etc.? Well, for starters, they work together. I have numerous other critters in this house who leave doors open, gates open, cereal boxes out, etc. I'm usually busy or distracted. And the twins are a lot faster than I am!
A few months ago in desperation I decided to confine them to one room, because I figured that one room of chaos was better than four rooms of chaos. Anyway, the twins either find ways to sneak through the gate, (Noelle is the master escape artist)
or else we leave it open (in an insane moment), or we have pity on them for being locked away like animals. We can't stand to see them like this:
One day in February (the same day we all came down with the flu) was a day we planned a field trip to a Reptile zoo up near Williamsport. Our trip was delayed by at least an hour because one of Noelle’s booties (brand new, expensive, Robeez) went missing, right from plain sight. I ranted and fumed and cleaned like a madwoman and generally made everyone miserable (even Andy) because “Kids…..ruin…..EVERYTHING!!!!!”
And then Natalie pooped. And when I went to change her, I found that Noelle’s other bootie had somehow gotten stuck down Natalie’s pants. NO WONDER we couldn’t find it !?!?! And to top it off, guess who was the one who dressed Natalie? You got that in one, it was me. All my fault. No wonder God struck me down with the flu. If i was Him, I would have given me the plague. Someday I will learn.
A few days ago, I slipped away to the bathroom. The twins were at the front door, occupied with playing peek-a-boo through the glass with their older sisters Clare & Theresa. I swear I was only gone for 2 minutes. That's 120 seconds. But by the time I returned, the twins were standing on the kitchen table banging on the laptop. They had somehow hit the right (or wrong) combination of keys, and managed to lock and password-protect the keyboard. I set the password about three years ago and had ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what it could be. So the laptop was rendered completely useless. Thank the Lord that our mailman came by a few minutes later, and was able to calmly explain how to fix it to exasperated old me .
I have to keep repeating over and over: “My children are a gift from God and I love them.” LOL
PS - This post was originally made in June. I still privately think that kids ruin everything. The last major doozy was in August. I stepped away from the computer to use the bathroom, and the twins pried 7 keys off the laptop. Laptop keys have three insanely tiny and fragile parts required to reattach them to the keyboard. I spent two hours hunched over the table. I kept telling myself that if Malaysian children can do this, then so can I, failing eyesight, clumsy fingers and all.
We are still missing 4 keys, and the 'e' key will never be the same. It's like a loose tooth - gonna lose it any day now. The Big Mean Daddy won't replace it, and tells me it's my fault because I let the kids use the laptop to play, so they treat it like a toy.
At low times, my motto around here is “Kids…..ruin…..EVERYTHING!!!!!” usually spoken through clenched teeth with a scowl. It’s sad that I feel that way, but I do.
I remember once while pregnant with the twins…in an absent-minded moment, I let Theresa hold my watch for about 2 minutes, and during that time it completely vanished. I was too big and lumbering to bend down or move the couch, and so it was lost for a couple weeks. (My husband eventually pulled out the couch and found it in about two seconds). She was only 3, and I was so angry with her and myself and everything, and I really let her have it. I made her (and myself) feel pretty awful.
(Theresa, me, my twin belly at about 5 months,
and the watch in question. We are sitting in the same spot
where she lost the watch a mere two months later.
My head is cut off because one of the kids took this photo)
and the watch in question. We are sitting in the same spot
where she lost the watch a mere two months later.
My head is cut off because one of the kids took this photo)
But it was the first watch I had ever owned as an adult and I’d worn it for two straight years without losing it, a first for me. God was testing me then, and I failed. Then my wrists swelled up and I couldn’t wear it anyway, and the battery died shortly thereafter. It still lies dormant on my dresser. That'll teach me.
My point is that I was (and still am) so tired of EVERYTHING in this house getting broken, lost or ruined. The twins are the worst yet right now. They walk off with anything they can snag. They like nothing better than to clean all the dvds or homeschool books off their respective shelves. You can’t let them anywhere near a box of tissues.
They ransack any unsuspecting schoolbook that they find.
They dump out at least one box of cereal a week. 
And DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ABOUT THE EGGS.Why, you may ask, are they allowed to get near the cereal/eggs/tissues/etc.? Well, for starters, they work together. I have numerous other critters in this house who leave doors open, gates open, cereal boxes out, etc. I'm usually busy or distracted. And the twins are a lot faster than I am!
A few months ago in desperation I decided to confine them to one room, because I figured that one room of chaos was better than four rooms of chaos. Anyway, the twins either find ways to sneak through the gate, (Noelle is the master escape artist)
or else we leave it open (in an insane moment), or we have pity on them for being locked away like animals. We can't stand to see them like this:
One day in February (the same day we all came down with the flu) was a day we planned a field trip to a Reptile zoo up near Williamsport. Our trip was delayed by at least an hour because one of Noelle’s booties (brand new, expensive, Robeez) went missing, right from plain sight. I ranted and fumed and cleaned like a madwoman and generally made everyone miserable (even Andy) because “Kids…..ruin…..EVERYTHING!!!!!”
And then Natalie pooped. And when I went to change her, I found that Noelle’s other bootie had somehow gotten stuck down Natalie’s pants. NO WONDER we couldn’t find it !?!?! And to top it off, guess who was the one who dressed Natalie? You got that in one, it was me. All my fault. No wonder God struck me down with the flu. If i was Him, I would have given me the plague. Someday I will learn.
A few days ago, I slipped away to the bathroom. The twins were at the front door, occupied with playing peek-a-boo through the glass with their older sisters Clare & Theresa. I swear I was only gone for 2 minutes. That's 120 seconds. But by the time I returned, the twins were standing on the kitchen table banging on the laptop. They had somehow hit the right (or wrong) combination of keys, and managed to lock and password-protect the keyboard. I set the password about three years ago and had ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what it could be. So the laptop was rendered completely useless. Thank the Lord that our mailman came by a few minutes later, and was able to calmly explain how to fix it to exasperated old me .
I have to keep repeating over and over: “My children are a gift from God and I love them.” LOL
PS - This post was originally made in June. I still privately think that kids ruin everything. The last major doozy was in August. I stepped away from the computer to use the bathroom, and the twins pried 7 keys off the laptop. Laptop keys have three insanely tiny and fragile parts required to reattach them to the keyboard. I spent two hours hunched over the table. I kept telling myself that if Malaysian children can do this, then so can I, failing eyesight, clumsy fingers and all.
We are still missing 4 keys, and the 'e' key will never be the same. It's like a loose tooth - gonna lose it any day now. The Big Mean Daddy won't replace it, and tells me it's my fault because I let the kids use the laptop to play, so they treat it like a toy.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Not Me Monday
Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.
My son did NOT receive a virtual reality helmet for a recent birthday present, which did NOT feature ninja dudes coming at you from all sides, or have hand and feet attachments so you had to kick and punch them away.
And I did NOT want to try this out, so I DIDN'T stand in the middle of the living room, looking like an overgrown fool, kicking and slashing at thin air.
And in the midst of it all, my 1 year old baby did NOT come toddling into the living room. And since I WASN'T wearing the helmet and WASN'T unaware of her presence, naturally I could NOT have kicked her square in the stomach while fighting off these digital attackers.
I did NOT immediately throw that helmet set in the trash, either.
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My son did NOT receive a virtual reality helmet for a recent birthday present, which did NOT feature ninja dudes coming at you from all sides, or have hand and feet attachments so you had to kick and punch them away.
And I did NOT want to try this out, so I DIDN'T stand in the middle of the living room, looking like an overgrown fool, kicking and slashing at thin air.
And in the midst of it all, my 1 year old baby did NOT come toddling into the living room. And since I WASN'T wearing the helmet and WASN'T unaware of her presence, naturally I could NOT have kicked her square in the stomach while fighting off these digital attackers.
I did NOT immediately throw that helmet set in the trash, either.
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Saturday, January 17, 2009
911. What Is Your Emergency?
So I read a post by KathyB over at The World According to Me about an embarrassing incident involving a toddler and 4 police officers, and I'm thinking, "Why doesn't stuff like that ever happen to me?"
Then out of the vaults of my swiss-cheesy memory I pulled out this little gem. Please note that I am not holding up my incident for comparison with Kathy's. Hers wins, hands down, for rueful head-shaking and overall forehead-smackiness.
There was the time when I was trying to call the kids' doctor on speed dial, but I hit the 911 button by mistake. I hung up right away, but the call had already connected. When the dispatcher called me back, I, naturally, was already on the phone with the doctor. The 911 center's protocol is to dispatch a unit if no one answers. I, naturally, was oblivious of this pertinent piece of information.
Child #1 was at school, I had just nursed Baby #3 to sleep but he wasn't ready to "let go" when I heard the doorbell ring. I was still in my nightgown with sleeping Child #2 on one side and a boob hanging out on the other. Naturally, I ignored the bell. What would you do? Then I heard the door open, and two officers entered the house called "Ma'am? Ma'am?"
So there I am on the baby monitor trying to tell them to be quiet. Me, in hushed tones: "I'm O-kay. I'm O-kay. Please don't yell up the steps. The kids are sleeping." (Do you know how long it took to nurse that kid to sleep???) And they're calling back, "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but we need to SEE you."
The long and short was that those two kind civil servants got a good look at unkempt motherhood at its grittiest. I am also fairly sure that the downstairs was something of a disaster (I wasn't much of a housekeeper in those days). And naturally, in the process, both sleeping kids woke up and I had to start all over again.
Actually, I was very proud of them. The police, that is. They adhered to procedure to make sure it wasn't a hostage situation. But it was also slightly mortifying. But hey - I'm Catholic. Isn't mortification good for the soul?
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Then out of the vaults of my swiss-cheesy memory I pulled out this little gem. Please note that I am not holding up my incident for comparison with Kathy's. Hers wins, hands down, for rueful head-shaking and overall forehead-smackiness.
There was the time when I was trying to call the kids' doctor on speed dial, but I hit the 911 button by mistake. I hung up right away, but the call had already connected. When the dispatcher called me back, I, naturally, was already on the phone with the doctor. The 911 center's protocol is to dispatch a unit if no one answers. I, naturally, was oblivious of this pertinent piece of information.
Child #1 was at school, I had just nursed Baby #3 to sleep but he wasn't ready to "let go" when I heard the doorbell ring. I was still in my nightgown with sleeping Child #2 on one side and a boob hanging out on the other. Naturally, I ignored the bell. What would you do? Then I heard the door open, and two officers entered the house called "Ma'am? Ma'am?"
So there I am on the baby monitor trying to tell them to be quiet. Me, in hushed tones: "I'm O-kay. I'm O-kay. Please don't yell up the steps. The kids are sleeping." (Do you know how long it took to nurse that kid to sleep???) And they're calling back, "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but we need to SEE you."
The long and short was that those two kind civil servants got a good look at unkempt motherhood at its grittiest. I am also fairly sure that the downstairs was something of a disaster (I wasn't much of a housekeeper in those days). And naturally, in the process, both sleeping kids woke up and I had to start all over again.
Actually, I was very proud of them. The police, that is. They adhered to procedure to make sure it wasn't a hostage situation. But it was also slightly mortifying. But hey - I'm Catholic. Isn't mortification good for the soul?
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