It just doesn't add up

I've said it before and I'll most definitely say it again... I have some organizational *challenges* in life. And as of late, things are falling through the cracks left and right. If you are among the dozen or so friends who have asked me to do something lately (Stacie, sorry about that babysitting list. Susie, sorry about that 360 form) and I have TOTALLY forgotten, accept this as my public apology. It's not you, it's me.

I would blame it on my stage of life. On three little kids who literally suck the life out of me leaving me little energy at the end of the day to do little else but lie comatose in front of the idiot box. I'd blame it on 14 other things going on in my life, but the truth of the matter is, I've always had great intentions but my follow through, well, it just kinda sucks. Am I chalking it up to, "That's the way I am and I'll never change"? I don't think so. There is nothing more I'd love to do than transform into a type A, perfectionistic kind of person. But instead, we're stuck with lazy me who is *trying* to shape up.

So, why is it then, that I LOVE to do laundry??? It just doesn't make sense based on who I am. Is that not the weirdest, most go-against-the-grain kind of thing you've ever heard? I mean, probably your most reliable type A kinda gal wouldn't say she *loves* to do laundry. She may tell you her system, show you her chore chart and come hell or high water, her family will have clean undies to wear. But as for me, laundry is a bit of a release. And I'm embarrassed to say, I love it.

Maybe its because so little actually gets done, finished, accomplished in my life. Maybe its because I have so much yummy smelling laundry detergent stockpiled from my couponing/CVSing and I feel the urge to use it all. Maybe its the folding. Oh, I love the folding and the sorting part of it all. I love to fill up my little wicker basket and have it all neatly piled (God forbid one of the kids TOUCH my folded laundry.) Wrath have no furry like a woman whose had her clean laundry messed with. Maybe its that when I'm done with the load or two for the day there is an empty basket on the floor ready to be re-filled. And for those 3 hours before something makes its way into the empty basket, it makes me feel good. Really good.

Maybe I'm just a complete nut job who is in need of a hobby and some friends. Don't know. Don't want to know. Because all I know right now is, laundry makes me happy. And if laundry is my current lot in life, I may as well be happy with it.

As for you, Stacie and Susie, you'll get your list and your form... someday! But right now, I've got to go put a load from the washer to the dryer... ahhhhhh.....

W.O.R.D. Up!

So, I've included some pictures of the kids that really have nothing to do with this post, nor really have/need any explaination. So enjoy the kids and please put up with my drivel- I really need you today.

Things around here have been ridiculously good. In light of a kid who is a week out of surgery, things are business as usual. Loud. Fighting. Whining. Crying. Laughing. Singing. Eating. Stuff like that.
As for Quinn's lip... amazing. Even with all the swelling, bruising, crusty blood and boogers, he looks amazing! (Spoken like a true mama, cuz right now he's got a nose situation only a mama would think looks amazing.) I will post pictures when he is more pleasant to look at. Until then, take my word for it. This kid continues to be a walking, giggling, talking miracle.

Speaking of talking; both boys are amazing me with their linguistic skills as of late. I know I'll soon regret this statement, but it has been SO fun recently to have both boys increase their vocabulary. Turner just this morning held up his cup and declared, "Milk!" I know that shouldn't be news worthy, the kid IS nearly 2. But he is a man of few words so when he declares milk, cookie, Baxter, movie, pumpkin or NO! it is fun for me.

And then there's Quinn. He is a virtual parrot and it annoys Olivia to no end. "Quit saying what I'm saying" is her mantra these days. I keep trying to explain to her that this is how Quinn is learning English. And boy is he picking it up! His favorite new phrase this week, "Thank you, Mama." EVERY TIME I give him something (and it doesn't matter what it is) he responds with a heart melting, "Thank you, Mama." I told Steve that Quinn is liable to be 300 lbs. soon because I'll give him whatever he wants to hear that (I *might* be a tad bit emotionally needy, I'm open to that.)

The only one who is not melting my heart these days is Olivia (with her words that is. She melts me in tons of other ways.) I've recently had to soap my finger and "wash her mouth out" twice. Please don't contact Social Services on me. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And I KNOW Super Nanny would not approve. But I've been at my wit's end with Miss lippy. I warned her. And then I followed through. Let's just say, she thinks twice now about sassing back.

Well, with all the words around here, its a wonder I've got anything left to say here. But really, this is the only place I get a word in edgewise. Thanks for the adult conversation, blogosphere. I appreciate the listening ear.

So many people, so little time

So, last night Steve and I were watching Grey's Anatomy. Well, I was watching and Steve was goofing around on the computer making it VERY hard for me to hear all of the smart dialogue coming at me from my idiot box! hrmph. men.

Anyhow... I have a love/hate relationship with the show. I think that the drama, the characters and the human dynamics are very well captured. I could just do without all of the affairs and what not. But last night had a story line that had me bawling like a little baby. Now that I'm a mom, I just can't take anything that has to do with kids dying. Ugh.

While we were at Children's this week, Steve and I ate a lunch in the cafeteria while Quinn was in the OR. I had to laugh because as I looked around I was wondering what all of the dramas around me were that were unfolding. I also wondered why not everyone was as stunning good looking and sexy as Grey's. We even had a short conversation about it. I found myself thinking, "I wouldn't mind working in a place like this." Mostly because my lunch was delicious and I had a sugar cookie that was to die for. But also because of the human drama. I. love. human. drama.

When I lived in NYC, my favorite thing to do on a Saturday was to walk the City. Just walk. And watch. MMmmm.... I'd love to be there doing that, right now. After several miles of walking, I'd pull up a park bench somewhere and watch some more.

I had an artist friend in NYC who told me once that she saw the world through shapes and colors. Photographers see the world through lenses, frames and photographs. Some see the world through numbers. I spent a long time frustrated... not knowing how I see the world. And then it dawned on me, I see the world through people. Their lives, their style, their beliefs, their drama. I love people and am deeply intrigued with them. I think I see the nature and character of God better when I observe those created in His image. The good the bad and the ugly.

So as we sat in that cafeteria, I realized it was a hot bed for what I love. Small problem, I have a full time job (its called motherhood, people.) Bigger problem, I hate anything medical. I might make a really great receptionist or cashier there, though.

In the meantime, I'll just keep observing, enjoying and worshipping as a result of all that I observe.

Nip & Tuck, toddler style

Tuesday was the big day. Quinn went in for his plastic surgery. He had a cleft lip revision and another *thing* revised. But I've learned my lesson with typing out the word. Weird people lurk on the Internet.
Quinn was all smiles heading down to Cincinnati Children's. Playing toys, charming nurses and although he wasn't allowed to eat or drink all morning, he was super cute.

All went well on both surgical fronts. He was under for about 2 hours and both doctors declared complete success. Thank you, Jesus! I knew that neither procedure was life threatening, but I was worried about about anesthetics. You just never know.

But we got to visit him in the recovery room where we found this!

A sleeping boy (who slightly resembles Chairman Mao, don't you think?) who's nose is incredibly different and who's lip, time will tell.

I feared the worst when he woke up (they warned us it could be rocky.) But really, he did quite well. He pretty much only cried when they checked his blood pressure and...

tried to wheel him down the hall on the gurney to his room. So, in order to keep him consoled, I took a ride with him.

I have to say, I felt a bit self conscious (it is Children's Hospital, after all) it's not exactly like there are tons of adults riding around on stretchers there. But it did seem like having mommy in the bed with him comforted him.

A few hours after getting settled in the room, we ordered him dinner. He scarfed down some Mac 'n Cheese, animal crackers and chips. He was very snugly and slept a bunch (he was pretty heavily medicated) which left Steve and I to channel surf and enjoy some quite.

Let's just say I O.D. on TLC. I'm totally up to date on Jon and Kate and any form of Little People!

Quinn had a fine night's sleep as long as they weren't coming in to check his blood pressure, machines weren't beeping, he wasn't rolling over and pulling out cords etc. So, yeah, sleep stunk... but not because of pain. Thanks, God.

So in summary, my baby boy looks like a prize fighter. He is a champ. And he is going to be one handsome guy!!!

We are so glad this is behind us. The one thing I've been worried about since we receive the referral is now in the history books. I have a new found love of history.

Mirror, mirror on the wall

Who's the laziest blogger of them all?

You say it's me, because I'm just now getting to my Halloween post?

Stupid mirror, what do you know anyhow?

I know I let the cat out of the bag last week by saying that the kids went as Snow White and the 2 dwarfs (thanks to Target... YES... I did have to buy a SECOND Snow White dress because the first still has not turned up... and Steve's Aunt Debbie for the dwarf outfits.)

Let's just say this will probably be the last year mom gets to decide what the boys get to be. And I'm *pretty sure* their picks will NOT include anything with beards!

They were suppose to be Happy (Quinn) and Bashful (Turner) but apparently they both went as Grumpy.

The beards stayed on long enough for me to snap a few shots. Turner at least wore the hat for most of the night. Quinn... not so much.

I thought it was a really cute idea, the group costume and all. But when 2/3 of the group throws a coup and you have to spend the whole night explaining who they are, cute idea turns into pain in the rear. But after all, isn't the spirit of Trick or Treat night candy and tearful photo ops for the parents?

The weather forecast left little to be desired for my little beggars (and Baxter!) But apparently the weather guy at Fox 45 didn't get the memo, because it ended up being a rather nice evening.

Such a nice evening that we did more houses than ever before which brought home some nice loot. Quinn adapted rather quickly to this strange American "holiday." He would run from house to house, hold out his plastic pumpkin and say as best he could, Trick or Treat. As his plastic pumpkin got heavier and heavier I asked if he wanted me to carry it for him in between houses, to which he yanked it from my general direction and declared, "NO! Mine. My pumpkin." Are you sure there isn't a Greedy dwarf?

After we got home, at one point Quinn had 3 unwrapped suckers and he was working on all three at one time. It was so cute if not a bit glutenous. Which begs the question once again, is it really true that I did not birth this child?
It was a fun night, full of tears, laughs, memories and sugar highs.

Hey Dayton, pimp my ride!

If you're family then you are anxiously awaiting Halloween pics. If you're not family you may be delightfully surprised to get a break from what you thought would be my obligatory Halloween post to show off my most adorable Snow White and the 2 dwarfs (who remained *dwarfed* for exactly 3 minutes, long enough to get a few shots of them screaming bloody murder over the bearded hats I made them wear!) but due to some technical difficulties and not wanting to spend an hour down loading ALL the pictures on my camera to get the 8 from Halloween posted, I'm delaying that post for this one.

Because you see, I am amazed EACH day that I go to pick Olivia up from school (her dad has drop off and I have pick up, its a nice little plan if I do say so myself) by what I encounter. Olivia's school is in what I would refer to as an *interesting* neighborhood. And at the risk of sounding like a suburban snob (which I deny to my core but is probably undeniably true) is one that our family may not normally venture into.

Which, in fact, is one of the appealing factors of this school. As long as its in the daytime.

On our way to the school from our house (which MIGHT be 2 miles) we experience some drastic cultural changes. And I'm not talking about racial kinda culture, I'm probably more talking about socioeconomic culture and therefore general social culture. I might make a point to one day count the number of boarded up houses on the street we drive on, but my best guess would be 25. That's a lot of plywood.

This morning on the way I noticed a guy sitting on his front stoop with a toddler who looked easily like she was not quite 1. She had on a summertime onsie with no jacket, pants, socks or shoes standing on the concrete. I couldn't help but glance at the car thermometer... 53 degrees. Holy H1N1 opportunity, Batman! I *might have* talked to myself out loud about the guy letting that little baby do that.

I pulled up in front of O's school where I wait for her classroom door to be opened and I go and sign her out for the day. As I was waiting this pimped out car (is that a term the young kids are still using?) complete with those spinning rims and a bumper sticker on the back window (? is that in style now too?) that said, "Only haters talk sh*t". Nice. The guy got out wearing a fine urban get-up including a tilted ball cap with rhinestone writing and a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. Hmmm. Hadn't seen that parent before. He marched right up to the preschool door Olivia should be coming out of. I KNOW my mouth was hanging wide open as I waited to see if he was going to put out the cigarette before he picked up his kid. Nope. Interesting.

Then (there's more???) as I was signing Olivia out for the day, the teacher nearly plowed me over on her way to *address* 2 teenage girls who had their faces painted like skeletons. She told them to stop peeking their heads in the preschool windows and scaring the little kids (ummm... yeah, that would be my little kid, thankyouverymuch). The teacher went on to tell me about how she had to shoo them away earlier and that the next step was to call the police. Again, nice! When I asked why they weren't in school (something I thought the teacher might have mentioned) she said, "Oh, they are probably suspended." Good idea, release them from being the school's problem so they can come and harass my 3 year old. Thankk you, Dayton Public.

So, these are the people in the neighborhood! Hey, I bet you don't get this in the suburbs!

say cheese; or don't

I've been meaning to write this post for several weeks now. But as you are well aware, I've been running a bit behind on life. So it should come as no surprise that this particular post has been *on deck* once something less interesting/exciting was already written about (and don't think I don't know how interesting AND exciting my post of all lost items was the other day!)

But having a daughter in pre-school has brought along many firsts. First day of school, first fundraiser, first fall break, first parent/teacher conference AND first school picture.

First of the firsts would be the parent/teacher conference. I'll tell 'ya what... its been a LONG time since my buns tried to squeeze onto one of those mini plastic school chairs. My guess is that the teachers have a good old laugh at us moms who could stand a chair a size or two bigger, thankyouverymuch! Anyhoo... the report was actually really good. I didn't expect to hear anything crazy like that Olivia is bullying others or disobedient or even disruptive. But I WAS surprised to get the report we did. Her teacher started out by saying, "Well isn't Olivia just the cutest, quietest, most petite little thing?!" Yeah, well duh, she gets that from me!

The teacher went on to say that Olivia is the youngest, smallest and most quiet in the whole class. (She is in a classroom with other kids 3-6 years old and she is one of only two 3 year olds.) She said that she does her work diligently and is "cautious." That didn't surprise me but what did surprise me is how she kept saying how quiet she is. Girl must save it *all* for me then. 'Cuz she can run her mouth with the best of 'em.

I tried SO hard not to be that mom that steps in and corrects the teacher by bragging about her large vocabulary or that she's been saying "Go Buckeyes" since she was 18 months old. I mean, I have no idea how she operates when she gets to school. And apparently, she operates as a mute. Hmmm... who knew? The teacher also said she won't let the other kids push her around, get in her work or cut in front of her in line and that she can really use her body to block the other kids out. YOU GO GIRL! Now that's what I like to hear!

On a different note, we also had our first school picture day. I was SO excited! She wore an adorable dress, had cute hair and *loves* to cheese for a photo. I had to order sight unseen, so I figured I'd go ahead and think about some Christmas gifts for family. So, I spent $30 on this...

dontcha think a professional could have gotten my daughter to flash even a fake grin???

Seriously, if this is the best they could do, someone should be fired.

Oh well, lesson learned. Next year we'll skip buying the school pics and march straight to J.C. Penny's.

For real. This picture looks like a most wanted shot. Probably wanted for boxing out a 5 year old for cutting in line.

Hey, if 'ya mess with the bull, 'ya get the horns!