I Am Going To Get Sucked In Again

I volunteered in the kids' classroom on Friday.

I like what the new teacher has going on in there. She has six different centers now and the kids are really organized. She has neat new projects in each one. I volunteered in the listening, computer, and sorting center.

I also had to hiss at Sarah, "Stop walking around the room. Get in your center."

I think Sarah is a little bored. She is reading advanced phonic books now with complex sound blends at home. At home, we are constructing sentences using nouns, verbs, adjectives, and prepositions using the game called Silly Sentences that Grammy got them for their birthday. It teaches them how to put the words in the correct order to form a sentence properly.



Greg was helping her last week and I heard him say, "A preposition is anything a mouse can do."

Then he started SINGING to the tune of Yankee Doodle.

"Aboard, about, above, across
Against, along, around
Amid, among, after, at
Except, for, during, down
Behind, below, beneath, beside
Between, before, beyond
By, in, from, off, on, over, of
Until, unto, upon
Under, underneath, since, up
Like, near, past, throughout, through
With, within, without, instead
Toward, inside, into, to"

I looked at Greg's mom and said, "WHO IS HE?"

So, anyway, the stuff they are doing at school is really babyish for Sarah. They are working on Starfall.com on the computer and they have been on that website since they were three at home.

Amazingly I helped a little Hispanic girl who had never been on a computer before in her life. She did not know how to use the mouse. She didn't understand how to move the arrow around and click. I worked with her for about 10 minutes and she caught right on. Kids sure do learn quickly, but it is amazing how little exposure some of these kids have had. Some of their worlds are so small.

The other thing that is startling is the number of kids that have left and arrived since school started. Remember the boy with the cochlear ears? He's gone. He only went there for three weeks. They've lost two or three others too and added two more this week.

One was a little Asian boy, and he told me came from the morning class because "it was too loud".

The other was a little Hispanic girl and I asked her what her name was and if she was new to class? She just stared at me. So I asked her again and she still stared at me.

One of the other kids said, "She speaks Spanish."

"Habla ingles?", I asked her and she told me no.

So with my VERY LIMITED Spanish, I used my time in the sorting center to point out the colors in Spanish and then have her repeat them to me in English.

Being a kindergarten teacher must be exhausting.

I've been avoiding volunteering to keep from getting sucked in again and end up being there every day because I work with my own kids enough and I need a break, damn it.

Can you hear the giant slurping sound through your computer?

Our Preservative Issues This Week

There was a study in the paper yesterday that said people who learned to run barefoot are better runners. It said that is the reason the runners from the Rift Valley in Kenya are such good runners. When they run, they land on the front part of their foot, whereas people who learn to run in shoes, tend to land on their heel.

I chuckled when I read that because my children learned to run barefoot and are outside running around barefoot everyday. Mental note: Watch them run and see where they land on their feet.

Perhaps they'll all be good in track and get scholarships and go to college for free.

Or have ugly pig hooves for feet like me.

Now let's talk about preservatives, because a couple interesting things happened this week with preservatives in our house that I want to share with you.

I made Portuguese bean soup the other day and got through cutting up all the ingredients when I realized I didn't have a can of diced tomatoes. I hate using canned food because of the BPA issue, and my whole goal for gardening this summer is to put up enough tomatoes to not have to use canned tomatoes. I normally use organic diced tomatoes from Trader's. They are affordable and they don't use citric acid as a preservative like all the other commerical brands.

Citric acid is a natural preservative. It has no known health risks, I just avoid it because it has a sour taste and I don't really understand why it's necessary to put a preservative in canned food. Isn't canning itself to preserve food?

So Greg called over to the neighbor and got a can of Hunt's tomatoes so I wouldn't have to run to the store. Which was GREAT. I was so happy.

But when we sat down to eat dinner, the first thing Greg said when he took a bite of the soup was, "This has a weird sour taste."

AHA!!!

"That's the taste of citric acid. You are tasting a preservative because I normally don't use them.", I preened from across the table.

If you start eating whole foods, you can start tasting chemicals. You really, really can.

The other issue we had with preservatives this week is that Greg bought a bunch of Sprite for the kids birthday last week, and he was sneaking it to the kids IN THE VAN when he took them out on adventures this week.

Of course I didn't realize this until 6 days later when I got around to cleaning out my car, but I DID notice that Gregory's behavior was horrible, absolutely beyond horrible all week. He got in trouble for the very first time in school and had to sit on the black square. He became argumentative and aggressive. He hit Austin several times and had fits of rage.

This stuff is totally out of character for him and I couldn't figure out what was going on. The two of us were butting heads all week. I was punishing him, he was crying and acting out, and it was just NOT FUN.

Then I realized he had been consuming sodium benzoate all week.

Sodium benzoate is in all soda and a lot of processed food like condiments, jams, fruit juice and salad dressings. ALL soda has it except Hansen's. It has been linked to ADHD behavior in studies and Coca-cola voluntarily took it out of Diet Coke in the UK after The Lancet published a blistering study about the effects of sodium benzoate on children's behavior. Here is a link to a Time's article and that study.

It was also recently discovered that when sodium benzoate is in the presence of vitamin C, especially when heated, it creates benzene a known carcinogen that causes mitochondia DNA damage. The FDA started reviewing this in 2008.

Of course in the US, where big corporations run our government and politicians, there are no plans to remove it like they did in the UK. I'm sure the big soda corporations will put their "scientists" on the testing, and then the FDA will say, "It's fine because we say so." and everyone will believe them, because we believe our government is here to protect us.

Meanwhile, we hope to pressure the soda companies into taking it out by not buying their products.

I regularly write letters to food manufacturers. In my spare time.

We have to protect ourselves and our own children and just not BUY IT.

So if you have a child that shows aggressive behavior, try cutting out the sodium benzoate. I threw out the Sprite over here and Gregory is back to normal.

If running around barefoot in the middle of winter is normal.

I Got All Up In His Man Business

I don't know how other marriages work, but in my marriage Greg does the outside work and I do the inside work. He mows. I cook. He takes out the garbage, I clean the toilets. He fixes the cars. I change sheets and do most of the laundry.

So do you know why Greg was so mad at me the other day about the peach tree?

I had gotten all up in his Man Business by messing around with his backyard.

You know, it would be like him getting in my kitchen and throwing out my KitchenAid.

The other thing that about our marriage is that I don't tell Greg what to do. I can joke around about stuff, or make suggestions, but you don't TELL Greg what to do ever. Sometimes I hear how other people talk to their husbands and it's like they are talking to their children. Do you guys talk to your husbands like that? Ugh. Stop it.

If I want Greg to take the garbage out, I might say, "Is this a contest to see how high we can get it?"

Then eventually he'll take it out. But I don't order him around because I married a man, not a boy.

Which doesn't mean I can't find ways around his Man Card. Encroaching on his territory is one way to get him motivated, I found out.

So after I went out into his Holy Land and planted a tree, I guess he decided he better take back his backyard from me.



He started revamping my entire summer garden. He is re-doing the entire irrigation system and he dug up the soil, added iron and bone meal, and tilled it. For the record, I would never be able to do this by myself. I wouldn't have a garden if it weren't for Greg.

So now that the balance of power has been restored in our house, is now a good time to tell Greg that I am flying to Lake Tahoe on February 20th for 3 days of skiing with my girlfriends and could he watch the kids and my 25 two week old chickens?

I Would Like A Coin Slot On My Abdomen

I went to Target and Greg's Scary Grocery store yesterday and got to look at the Octomom in a bikini in both checkout lines.



And the magazine is screaming that she never had a tummy tuck. Let me be clear that I am all for plastic surgery and I would have a tummy tuck tomorrow if someone paid for it.



But don't try to tell me you didn't have a tummy tuck WHEN ANYONE WITH EYEBALLS CAN SEE THE DIFFERENCE IN YOUR BELLY BUTTON. Do most people have coin slots for a navel? Are you seeing the stretch marks or am I hallucinating? Where did those go?

I think it's entirely possible to have a few multiples (like two or three, not eight)and not get stretch marks or have excess skin. I really don't have that much extra skin.



But look at my belly button. It looks like I'm growing potatoes in there, it's so messed up. I actually thought it was dirt and tried to scrub it out once and ended up bleeding. It's just like discolored now. This stomach has not seen the light of day in six years, so this is just for your viewing pleasure. I wear a SWIM DRESS now, not a bikini.

I would like to trade my navel potatoes in on the coin slot belly button though and see if I could stand on the Strip and make some money.

You've Made ME Gay

I bought a dwarf peach tree yesterday.

I have to be honest with you guys and tell you that Greg is just sick of me. He flat out told me that he wasn't digging a hole, and if I want to be a farmer, I better learn how to use a shovel.

I told him I would just go hire an illegal in the parking lot of Home Depot if that's the way he wanted to roll. Isn't that what farmers do?

Our ground is so hard in the desert, I can usually jump on the shovel and I will just stand there like I'm on a pogo stick. But all that rain we had last week has turned our dirt unbelievably soft. So I was able to dig the hole and plant the tree MYSELF.



Now that I know I can dig a hole, there will be no stopping me. I am going back today for a lemon tree and a couple pomegranate bushes.

In other news, Austin quit wetting the bed. He has not wet the bed since the day he learned to ride a bike two weeks ago. Honest to God, he told me he doesn't have to wet the bed anymore because he can ride a bike now. I wet the bed until the very day before I started kindergarten and never wet again. So, hmmmmmmmmmm, could there be a psychological component to this wetting the bed thing?

Anyway, I am thrilled. If I could say it a million times, I want to say that I am so happy we did not make it a big deal and that it happened when he was ready.

To change the subject completely again, I learned the results of the Mormon set-up I orchestrated last year. Remember Raggedy Ann and the Mormon Guy Whose Wife Left Him Because She Was Gay? They are in LOVE. I'm talking head over heels in love, and if he asks her to marry him, she WILL!!!

Greg and I were talking about it last night, because this is the third or fourth time in the last year that we have heard of or know of someone who left their husband because they figured out that they were a lesbian.

I have known so many gay people in my life, that I know the vast majority of people who live a gay lifestyle were born that way even if it takes them years and years to figure it out, but that didn't stop me from telling Greg anyway, "I feel for them. Twenty years with you and you've practically made ME gay. If you died tomorrow, I would go join a senior citizen group and learn to play cards and take bus junkets to Laughlin. I would NEVER take on another man at this point in my life."

Unless he digs holes for me, then I might consider it.

Butt, It's What's For Dinner

Greg is only second generation American on his father's side. He's Slovak. His grandmother came from Slovakia to America as a young woman, boarding a boat completely alone and knowing no English. She was sponsored by a Slovak/American family in Ohio, learned English, and married a Slovak man in the community, giving birth to two sons, both of whom went to college even though it was expected that they would go to work in the steel mills.

The whole family story gives me goose bumps. She lived the American dream and so did her sons.

Her family so completely assimilated into the American culture that there is very little Slovak heritage left to pass on to the kids. So when Greg and I spent some time in Florida with his Uncle Jack, I got the recipe for holubsky, also known as cabbage rolls, and I've been making it for 10 years.

I use this recipe here. Although I don't always use sauerkraut and I don't use tomato soup because I don't want to die of MSG poisoning. I use tomato sauce and ketchup in place of tomato soup.

Yesterday I picked a beautiful head of cabbage from our garden and I cannot even begin to tell you how pleased and satisfied I was to be making the holubsky with it. I envisioned Grandmother S in her babushka, preparing the same meal for her family, and I was certain she was staring down from heaven and thanking me for taking such good care of Greg, her beloved grandson.



Isn't Greg a lucky fellow? Did any of you spend an hour rolling cabbage yesterday?



I like to put big thick slices of bacon on top too. Mmmmmmmmmmmm.....mmmmmmmmmm.

Austin wouldn't touch it to save his life. He ate it when he was two, but now he's turned on it. He had big tears rolling down his face because he didn't even want it on his plate. That kid is a human garbage disposal too, so it's very unusual for him to not eat something.

"Austin, you loved cabbage rolls when you were two. Just try one bite. These are your great grandmother's recipe. She made them for Daddy all the time. Your daddy grew up eating these, right Greg?"

"Are you kidding me? I wouldn't touch those things until I was twelve.", he bellowed across the table. "We used to call it Grandma's Butt Stew because it stunk so bad. I can't believe you make the kids eat this slop. My brothers and I used to play games and whoever lost would have to smell Grandma's Butt Stew on the back porch."

Then I sent fighter jets out of my eyes and bombed Greg for teaching the kids the term BUTT STEW at the table. Don't worry Grandmother S, your grandson will be joining you shortly and you can give him the beating he sorely deserves.

Meanwhile, I've got 4 heads of cabbage in the garden still and Greg will be eating an awful lot of BUTT STEW in the next couple weeks.

There Is Always An Adventure Here

Ever since the kids were 18 months old and I would let Greg take them by himself, he has taken off with them and gone on adventures. They have their own park circuit. They have their own store circuit.

Sometimes people in stores will say to me, "I know those kids. You must be the mother. Your husband is so good with them. Are you off work today?"

Which has always left me dumb-founded because he might go on adventures with them occasionally, but I am with them 90 percent of the time.

He started taking them down on the Strip when they were two years old. He never used a stroller either. I would get SO MAD at him because he wouldn't even tell me. The kids would say, "Daddy took us to the mall today and there were white tigers there."

"You took the kids to the MIRAGE?", I would yell at him.

I don't even have any pictures of their escapades because he never takes a camera with him. But yesterday he took off with my camera.

I saw a want ad circled in the newspaper, so I knew they were heading out to look at a fifth wheel.



You know, I have exceedingly low standards, but I saw this on my camera this morning and was thinking, "OH MY GOD." Could I live the dream in THAT?

I haven't heard anything about it, so I am assuming we are not buying it. Whew.



Then they went to a park. Is that Sunset Park? They didn't come home for lunch, so I am assuming they had a picnic.



Then it looks like they went to the airport.

What was I doing while they were out all day?

I cleaned the house and did laundry. I do laundry every single day and put it away. That is why Gregory wears the same shirt every day. Have you noticed that? That is because it's always clean and in his drawer.

Then I went over to Bob's house to discuss our chickens. I did it!!! I ordered them. They arrive on February 8th. I ordered 25 Jumbo Cornish X Rocks. I have to go pick them up at the post office when they get here.

We are going to our local feed store to get laying hens. We are getting Leghorns to start.

Bob grew up on a farm in Idaho and he is one of eight children. He swears to me on his life that you get roosters to eat. He said his mother killed 250 birds a year to feed his family. He said they only grow for eight weeks and you eat them before they start crowing or turn into "roosters". So if he knows what he is doing, we'll be having us a barbecue in April. If he doesn't know what he is doing, the people who live behind him are going to FREAK OUT.

We decided to get four turkeys too. Cuz you know, WHY NOT?

There is always an adventure going on here. Always.

This Baby Is Bothering Me

It doesn't rain in Las Vegas. We get 4 inches of rain a year if we are lucky. So it is possible to plan a birthday party for outside in January. Which was my plan. Then it started raining on Monday and didn't stop.

What was I going to do with all the kids at the birthday party? I invited like 10 (or 15) from their class and from kids in our neighborhood. But then nobody RSVPed and I started freaking out. So I invited another 10 just to be safe. Did you see the size of the pinata? Sheez.

I kept thinking that this was the first time we had ever invited singletons and maybe they didn't want to buy three presents? I didn't even want presents. But now the kids are at an age where they know we buy presents for people, so they expect their friends to get them a present too.

I just hate the whole present thing though. The thought of anyone buying three presents at the same time makes me a little sick to my stomach, so that was adding to my stress.

Then on Thursday it poured like insane amounts of rain. We got more rain in four days than we got all last year. I don't even know how you guys do it. The dirty, wet shoes and dirty, wet clothes. Good Lord, what a mess.

So I dropped the kids off at school on Friday and people started coming out of the woodwork.

"Hi! We'll be there!"

"See you after school!"

I totally freaked out. I ran home and told Greg to find some tables because we were having a CROWD.



OMG. Is that the Duggar's family table?

Greg's mom came over to help set everything up and she said, "Will they all come at once? Should I take my hearing aids out?"

Only if you don't want your eardrums to burst.

So the kids just started coming after school and they burst right through the door and went straight for the backyard. It was 45 degrees with 25 mile an hour winds.



They went straight for the trampoline.



And straight for the wet sand, and the mothers were all huddled on our porch and looking at their kids in the dirt. And although kids in dirt are my life, I know that some people are weird about mud and dirt. Those kids had the time of their life building stuff and digging holes. One of the little girls told her mom it was the best party she had ever been to in her life.

So they were all red and wet and covered in sand and my kids were all barefoot and didn't have any jackets on, because that is how they always are outside.

"Are they always barefoot?", one of the moms asked me.

They were born barefoot, what can I say.

Then they all ran in the house to paint.



I had gotten a bunch of wood stuff at the Dollar Store and set up a painting station.



It went amazingly well. It doesn't look like it in this picture, but we had over 20 kids. I lost count. It might have been 23. Greg's mom couldn't believe how well they all sat and painted. I guess having 25-30 kids in a kindergarten class prepares them for large group activities.




We sang Happy Birthday three times. Sarah was born first.



Gregory was born one minute later.



Then Amanda came two minutes after Gregory.

"Why do I always have to be last?", she wanted to know.



Why did I have to born by myself?

So then the kids were covered in sand and paint and pizza and cake.

Then they all moved outside to do the pinata.



Kids were chanting, "Kill the kitty. Kill the kitty."

Next year we have to figure out a way to make the pinata more organized. The party took on a life of its own after that and all the kids ran back into the house like a mob and everyone started ripping open presents. I had no idea what anyone got or who they got it from. It was IN-SANE. It took me all morning today to figure it out and write it down. Writing it down made me sick again that people bought so much stuff. What if they couldn't afford it? It makes me delirious. You have no idea.



The girls had begged me for dolls. They haven't played with dolls since they were two. Amanda reminded me that they didn't have any dolls and that is why they don't play with them. These dolls cry if you don't pick them up, they tell you they want you to play with them, and they cry when they are hungry.

Amanda told me, "This baby is bothering me. It wants something constantly."

I told her that is what babies do and she better make that baby happy OR ELSE.

I can think of a few young people who need one of those dolls.

My babies are six. I still can't believe it.

Edited to add: I wrote this post so fast, I've had to add and correct the horrific spelling and grammatical errors like 10 times. If you get my feeds, I imagine you just got ten of the same post. Oops. :)

I'm In Mother School Today

Having all your children born on the same day means that every birthday is exactly like Christmas.

So I promise to blog when I am not ripping my hands apart on metal wires, or putting together castles, or baby strollers, or making my own soap and lip gloss, or painting my own t-shirts, or designing my own tea party hats, or beading and making clay sculptures, or using our new rubber ball maker kit.

You guys could not believe how much fun these kids are having.

H.E.L.P. M.E, Auntie Jodie. S.O.S.

I'm going to end up being the smartest mom in Mother School, for sure.

The Triplet Cake Wreck

Have you ever read the Cake Wreck's blog? I don't want to dazzle you with my supreme culinary skills, but I will anyway, and hopefully we don't end up on the Cake Wreck Blog.



Today is the children's 6th birthday. We started making them their own cakes last year. They pick out the flavors and decorations and I am supposed to make their dreams come true. Amanda wanted a chocolate cake, with chocolate frosting, and cherries on top. (Note: She won't actually eat the cherries because they are red.)



Gregory wanted a yellow cake, with white frosting, and a snowman with sprinkles. Yes, that IS a snowman!!!!

Sarah wanted a chocolate cake, with chocolate frosting, with a dog on it.



Greg actually shoved me aside to finish the dog. We laughed so hard, I was crying.

The kids think the cakes are the best. They told us.

They will never be five again.

When we tucked them in and kissed them goodnight, Greg said, "This is the last time I will ever kiss you goodnight when you are five."

Ten minutes later, Sarah was SOBBING.

I went in to find out what was going on, and she sobbed, "I don't want to turn six. I want to stay five, and stay Sarah, and I want Daddy to still kiss me goodnight."

So I hugged her and kissed her and told her that she would still be Sarah today, and that Daddy would always kiss her goodnight.

Which isn't true, because he won't always kiss her goodnight. Someday she will be grown up, and she will never be the same Sarah she was when she was five, and I cried because I don't want them to be six.

I want them to stay five forever.

They are growing up too fast and my heart is heavy.

Someday they are going to be old enough to know my cakes suck.

Triplet Moms Are Really Mean

There was an interesting story on ABC World News last night. The average child over eight spends 7 hours a day tethered to electronics.

The average child gets 75 hours per week of media.

Only one third of the children in the study have ANY parental limits on the amount of time they spend on all their gadgets. Only ONE THIRD. Uh, HELLO? Parents? WHERE ARE YOU?

Can you imagine? Where are the parents?

The study also found that the heaviest media users had an almost 50 percent chance of having poor grades. So there is a direct correlation between the amount of time a child spends with their gadgets and how they will perform in school.

You know what? I'm just going to say it. If your kid is spending 75 hours per week on or in front of electronic gadgets, you are a LAZY parent. Wake up, your child is turning into a freaking zombie.

Don't the parents wonder what their kid is doing?

"Hi! How's it going? What have you been doing for 75 HOURS this week?"

Let me tell you what your kid is doing. Your kid is pretending to be a triplet mom on the internet while you are ignoring them.

People fake having multiples. A lot of the time, we discover the fakers are children. Children who have so much time on their hands, they have enough time to make fake blogs and steal photos and infiltrate triplet mom social networks. We caught one yesterday. Here was the photo she was passing off as her family. Does anyone know who this belongs to?

EDITED TO ADD AGAIN:

I am deleting the links at the request of the person whose identity was stolen, since I think that is the fair thing to do.

This fourteen year old girl had enough time to make two Facebook accounts, a Twitter account, three blogs, and post numerous messages on multiple forums. We tracked her through Google, Photobucket, and message boards.

How lonely are you if you have enough time to do that? How sad that the parents of this girl dismiss her so completely that she has time to set up a completely fake identity to try to belong to something.

Have parents really become THAT disconnected?

If your child is so lonely that they have to pretend to have triplets, which is really NOT THAT FUN, then you have completely screwed up the parenting gig. You should have stuck with dogs. They can't use computers yet.

I would like to force her parents to have triplets for a year.

Oh, and Marley Hall, if you are reading this, WE CAUGHT YOU. Turn off the computer and go play with your friends. Triplet moms are not your friends. We are really, really, really, really mean. Trust me.

I Learned It In Mother School

Auntie Jodie gave all the kids broken cell phones yesterday and told them to put them in their backpacks and take them to school and pretend like they're real.

If Jodie hadn't arrived yesterday, I don't think I could have made it one more day.



She made stained art glass necklaces and bracelets in her pajamas.



She made friendship bracelets in the afternoon.

"How do you know how to braid those?", I asked her.

"I learned it in Mother School."



She did sand art bracelets in the evenings.

Between all that, she walked with me to take the kids to school and witnessed for herself, The Brat's mother manhandling him. That woman was so out of her mind, she picked The Brat up and carried him to the gate and THREW HIM. It was AWFUL. My kids just stood there and stared in shock.

"I can take her.", Jodie was so PISSED. I should have let her bitch slap that crazy woman. No wonder that kid acts the way he does.

But then she took me to lunch, and we sat and ate and talked for 2 solid hours, and when the kids went to bed, SHE FOLDED MY LAUNDRY.

Does Jodie know how to party in Vegas, OR WHAT?

Fred is on his 7th (or 8th) round of chemo now for colon cancer, and the chemo is working so well that his cancer marker, which was so high it was immeasurable when he was diagnosed in October, dropped down from over 500 to only 60. It is a miracle. We are so happy for Fred, there are not even words in the English language to express it.

I just love those guys so much. Even if I had to sit there and listen to Greg and Fred and Fred's dad gloat about the Kennedy seat being lost to a Republican. I love them THAT MUCH.

Stop The Insanity

These three stooges have eleven children. Their wives have had their quiver's full, for sure. Oh, wait, I'm one of the wives. Yikes.

We have had company since Thursday. If you are keeping track, it's Tuesday.

It has been almost NON STOP rough housing.

The hysteria level is at an all time high.

The noise level is deafening.

The kids have had the best time ever, until someone starts crying.

I don't want to name any names, SCOTT, but somebody was rough housing and broke my laptop and lost all my Christmas photos.

Somebody else, MARC, spilled scotch all over my carpeting last night.

Did I mention that our septic backed up into the laundry room yesterday?

I'm going to start spanking people.

My neighbor's daughter was over for 2 hours yesterday with her 4 year old daughter, bringing the grand total of children in my house to seven. She is all crunchy granola from Portland and we had a wonderful time together talking our "liberal agenda".

Then my friend Jodie's father-in-law pulled into the driveway yesterday with his 40 ft motorhome. He's in town for a GUN SHOW. Fred and Jodie arrived at sometime in the wee hours of the morning.

Bringing our grand total to seven adults and six children, or five Republicans, two Democrats, and six Independents.

Insert hysterical screeching.

Or is it three adults and 10 children?

I'm starting to crack. Somebody throw me a straitjacket. Or a plunger. OR A GUN.

Bros Before Hoes

We took our six year old houseguest out to the Peacock Farm yesterday to see our peacock, Peter.

Look, Mom! It's Peter.

We got there right at feeding time, and when the peacocks were done eating the leftover pancakes I had brought, the lady that worked there gave the kids bags of cat food and sunflower seeds. Did you know peacocks ate cat food? Me neither.

Goats eat pretzels too. In fact, they LOVE pretzels.

Wait! Wait! You forgot about me! I want a pretzel!

The farm has new piglets too. The kids were so excited about the piglets.

Doesn't Gregory look like a Bro here? Do you know what a Bro is? A Bro is from California and is White and rides dirt bikes and wears big, giant flat-billed square baseball caps and drives lifted trucks. I never knew this until I started going to Auntie Jodie's house in Disneyland. Then I got aquainted with the term Bro and the Bro lifestyle
.
Girls that hang out with Bros are called Bro Hoes. The Bros' motto is "Bros before hoes." See all the important and useless information you get from reading this blog?

Our houseguest is from Phoenix and she was so cold in Las Vegas she had to wear gloves. Brrrrrr. It was 62 yesterday. She almost froze TO DEATH.

I am excited to announce a new business arrangement with our neighbor, Bob, and Jerry. Bob is going to let me and Jerry keep chickens behind his tennis court as long as I buy them and buy the feed. Jerry and I will feed them and Jerry will slaughter the ones we grow for eating in exchange for a portion of the meat. The kids and I will collect the eggs and feed the chickens our scraps.

So Jerry said we are going to start out small. He is going to go get 25 roosters for eating and 6 laying hens. What breeds do you recommend? I found a hatchery online and they ship them right to you, but HOLY COW there are so many breeds. Should I get broiler chickens or fryer chickens? OR BOTH?

The Flophouse

Growing up in Phoenix, we would have company at my Grandma's house from January to April each year, as our snowbird relatives escaped the freezing cold to come and hang out in the desert.

We have a house full over here and it's reminding me of the old days at my Grandma's where you would find people sleeping all over the place.



We have an extra six year old, who is 5 inches taller than Sarah and Sarah is in the 95th percentile. We have her father, Greg's football friend from college, who is 6ft5in.

Then we have Scott from Illinois and his son, Scott, that's not confusing, here for a football camp at UNLV.

So we have people on all sorts of different time schedules. We had lunch at noon and 2:30 and then had dinner at 5:30 and 8pm.

Alyssa, the other six year old, doesn't sleep. Her nickname is "Redbull". I went to bed before she did and she was up when I got up.

Then Auntie Jodie From Disneyland and Uncle Fred are coming tomorrow with Fred's parents and they are parking their 40 foot motor home in our driveway.

Thank God Greg and Scott hauled home this massaging chair yesterday.



Have you ever seen these in Sam's Club? The guy who owned it called Greg and told him he had a chair he wanted off the premises and could Greg please haul it away? It vibrates and has back, head, and calf rollers.

Jodie, I found a place for you to sleep!

The Day I Scored Big

For the last three years I have been hitting the Target toy sale in January, and for the last three years I come up against these same three women with flatbeds. They always outsmart me. They always get the inside scoop before me. It's infuriating. It's the same three women. Every year. And every year I know they will be there and I have muttered under my breath, while I see them take 35 boxes of the same item that I want. What the heck?

So for three years I have been bitching that they are selling the stuff on Ebay.

Yesterday, I finally asked them why they need 35 boxes of the same item, and one of the ladies told me, "We purchase all these toys through a non-profit organization that helps homeless children."

Aren't I an asshole?

We had a nice chat and I told them I'd see them next year.

So I scored big at the sale and got enough stuff for their birthday, Austin's birthday, and any toys we might need for birthday parties. This is a huge savings, not to mention less stress for me to not run to the store everytime we get invited somewhere.

As if crappy plastic toys from China weren't enough to make my day, Greg came home from cleaning out a shed on a foreclosure. Check out all the camping stuff.



Jerry couldn't contain himself and started putting everything together in the backyard.



He said they don't make tents like this anymore. This here is a real canvas tent. Could that tent be anymore Brady Bunch? But we also got cots, a campstove, a lantern, chairs, and camping tables.



Jerry was so happy to go through the stuff, he drank a twelve pack to celebrate.



The kids were so happy, they started camping immediately.

Guess what else came out of that shed?



Decoy turkeys. I am totally climbing over the wall and putting these in our neighbor's backyard to freak their bird dogs out. Take that, you dogs who killed my peacock.

The last practical joke we played on them was decoy ducks in their swimming pool. This time I'm getting it on video.