One more to be filed under "My Soap Opera Life"
I think it should actually be referred to as "My Reality TV Show Life" because sometimes I really believe that the general public would be entertained by my crazy world. Sometimes I practically look around for guys following us around with cameras. You won't even believe what went on around our house today.
It all began this morning when Max asked if Grammie was home from her trip yet. We'd been making the trip back and forth to her house this past week to take care of her dog, mail, and flowers while she vacationed in Las Vegas. When I told Max she had returned, he asked if he could go to her house to "welcome her home" by hanging out and playing with her. I texted my mom asking if she had plans. I am obviously on my worst day of PMS because when she called back sounding stressed and explaining that she needed to run errands and wasn't sure if she had time to hang out, I burst into heaving sobs. We were in the van, leaving church and the kids were asking, "What's wrong Mommy?!" I explained I was just a little sad and would be fine. Then, Stu turned down a street that did not head toward home and I asked where he was going. Trying to be funny, he responded, "Crazy!" Turns out he'd packed a picnic lunch and drove to a nearby park for the kids to play on the equipment for a while and then we ate at one of the picnic tables at the park. That was one of the few normal, fun things that happened today.
We arrived home from lunch and Max, Ryann and I played a board game. Adam entertained himself by throwing chunky plastic blocks behind our media cabinet. Stu and I decided he likely couldn't hurt anything and it wasn't worth the battle to ask him to stop. While we all played contentedly, Rags chewed ecstatically on a rawhide chew (terrible for dogs, I know, but in a weak moment I bought some for him and try to watch him closely to make sure he doesn't swallow any). Everyone played nice for about 7 minutes. Then, Ryann started to horn in on Adam's block-playing fun and there was a squabble. We asked Ryann to find something else to do since Adam had been playing just fine on his own. She left but was soon back and ended up squashing Adam's fingers in a toy. There was some yelling, crying, tears. I realized at that moment that Rags was working on swallowing down the last of the rawhide chew. I wrestled what I thought was most of it out of his jaw. Adam was put down for his nap and only asked once for his Nukkie which Stu and I decided at the last minute on Friday night to be done with. Ryann and Max were invited by Daddy to play "car wash" in the driveway and I took some time to run to the bookstore to buy a "Mom's Family Planning Calendar". Yes, this is what I do with my few precious minutes of free time these days. I go to bookstores to buy calendars which help me keep track of where my family is and what we are going to eat on any particular day. On the way home, I saw some Open House signs and swung in to walk through the house that was for sale. Lately, I've been obsessing about moving to a house with 4 bedrooms rather than 3, 2 bathrooms rather than 1 and more than a 1 car garage. Interestingly enough, part of the message we heard at church this morning was remembering to count our blessings and give to those in need rather than constantly wanting more and more and more for ourselves. Hrmph.
While I was running my errand, my mom called to ask if she could pick Max and Ryann up (since Adam was already sleeping) to take them out for ice cream. By the time I got home, she'd arrived and taken them away. Stu and I used the child-free hour to lie on the couch, watch TV, and read the paper. Just before Grammie arrived home with the big kids, Rags got up and paced around the coffee table twice. He normally does not pace in circles so I asked, "Do you have to go outside?" He just stood there, staring away from me so I leaned back on the couch and thought everything must be ok. Rags was standing just over Max's clean pile of laundry and suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, he let loose with the grossest, liquidy projectile vomit. Stu yelled, "Oh RAGS!" and he started running across the living room, puke spewing as he went. What resulted was the most hideous smelling, chunky yet watery, brownish line of nastiness spread basically from one side of the living room to the other. It was so horrifying we really couldn't do much but laugh. I put Rags outside and commenced cleaning. Stu took Max's soiled clothes downstairs and threw them back in the wash. Just then, Max and Ryann walked in, all smiles and ready to tell me about their fun time with Grammie. Instead, they both clutched their mouths and noses and groaned, "What is that SMELL?!" I told them Rags had just had a throw up and Ryann yelled, "Well, will you clean it up RIGHT NOW?!" Yes dear, I'm working on it. Next up - Adam awoke from his nap and though he's almost 100% day potty-trained, we still put him in diapers for his nap and overnight sleep. Thank goodness because as soon as I got in his room, he announced, "I go poopy." And "go poopy" he did. He had a terrible, smelly full diaper that made me think he might be suffering from a similar tummy upset as the dog. Finally, I headed downstairs to charge up our little carpet spot cleaner and found that it was completely broken. As in two of the plastic parts of it were busted and it was completely non-functional.
So the puke stayed where it was for the moment. We ate some supper and piled the kids in the car to head to Target to buy a new carpet cleaner and a can of pumpkin to mix with Rags' dinner in the hopes it would entice him to eat and help settle his stomach. I'm sure that the other Target guests thought we were crazy people. I had Adam in the cart portion of my cart and Stu had both Max and Ryann in the cart portion of his cart. Those two wrestled, tickled, shrieked and giggled most of our trip. Adam and I took our habitual trip to the bathroom as he announced partway through our shopping, "I need go pee pee!" I wondered as we walked into the nice big bathroom next to the pharmacy just how many times I've been in that bathroom in the last few years. It's got to be at least 100. We chose a little carpet cleaner and got to the checkout line. We were hoping to stretch out the trip a little so that by the time we got home, we could put the kids in the tub and get them to bed. We were assisted in our attempts to stretch our time out a bit by the people in line ahead of us in the checkout lane. Believe me, we would have moved if we hadn't already piled all of our goods onto the conveyor belt. The nice couple in front of us had almost $200 worth of crap (ahem, stuff) which took several minutes to scan and bag. Then they hemmed and hawed about applying for a Target Visa. They decided what the heck and then we waited while they filled out their form and got approved. We weren't ruffled really, though. The kids were being fine so we waited patiently and finally got all of our items scanned. In fact, I was having fun laughing at my kids' antics. At one point, Adam passed gas and stated, "I toot!" I asked him, "What do you say?" and he nonchalantly replied, "Oh, I'm not saying 'scuse me right now". Oh...well then...
Next up, we got out to the minivan, piled all our new goods in there, thank the LORD had all three kids strapped safely in, and I went to put the cart away. Stu was walking around the rear of the van to get to his side and I was heading back towards the van when suddenly - it leaped backwards with tires squealing, nearly a foot!! I ran towards the van and wrenched open the door calling, "Are you OK?! Are you OK?!" Adam was sobbing and I could see a tiny wound on his cheek. He'd been holding a toy truck when our van was run into by the woman trying to park her car in the spot facing us and misjudged the distance, slamming her front end right into ours. Consequently, the toy truck had flown into Adam's face and caused a little gouge. Stu had been rounding the corner in the rear of the van and was struck in the arm. He was ok but his watch was scratched. Next, we looked at the front ends of our cars and didn't see any damage. I was so shook up, I didn't know what to do next. Stu was with the kids and when the woman and her husband apologized profusely and then walked away, I at first thought it was fine since everyone was ok and there was no damage to the car. But then the Target security officer stopped by to make sure we were ok and both he and Stu suggested that we should probably get the offender's insurance information just in case. The kind security officer escorted me inside and had the couple paged to the customer service desk. They were very nice and gave me their insurance card to copy down their information.
We arrived home in one piece and soon after, Max was in a time out in his room after he bit Ryann in the butt. He said he thought it would be funny but Ryann was crying and had a big, red welt on her lower cheek. Rags had some pumpkin added to his supper and I scooped up and hosed down some more piles of puke in the backyard. Stu assembled the carpet cleaner for me AND THEN I read the directions and realized I needed to wait for the throw-up to dry completely so I could vacuum it first and then use the cleaner. Max's kavetching, in his room, turned up a notch and he said it was due to a stomach ache. I suggested he sit on the toilet to see if that would help and he told me that he thought he'd eaten too much ice cream with Grammie. In fact, she'd told me he hadn't eaten all that much of his ice cream sundae so I assured him that probably wasn't it and he didn't have to worry that he was the kind of kid who couldn't handle his ice cream. He disagreed and tried to persuade me that it was his fudge and....and...something that was kind of like peanut butter cup but not really and sort of sounded like "County Road C" (which is the nearest cross street to our house). I called my mom to try to discern what he was telling me and she laughed out loud telling me he'd ordered a "Fudge-Scotchy" shake. I guess "Scotchy" kinda sounds like "County Road C".
So now here it is 8:30 at night and Stu and I are relaxing in our basement with the pukey puppy at our feet. Stu is participating in the online draft for the fantasy football league he's in this season. There's a huge swath of smelly vomit on the carpet upstairs. Adam's in his crib with no Nukkie. Max is sleeping off his tummy ache and Ryann's probably trying not to lie on her bitten bum-cheek. And honestly, though this was an incredibly long and hopefully not too boring post, I didn't include every little detail (such as the fact that in one breath Max asked to be signed up for gymnastics and in the next lamented the fact that Riley, his friend at daycare, was going to think he was weird for signing up for gymnastics. I tried to assure him that he could do whatever he wanted and had to try not to care what Riley thought and we surfed to YouTube and watched a montage of video clips from the 2008 Olympics, set to music, of the male gymnasts. Ultimately, he decided he wants to give gymnastics a try). We can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.
It all began this morning when Max asked if Grammie was home from her trip yet. We'd been making the trip back and forth to her house this past week to take care of her dog, mail, and flowers while she vacationed in Las Vegas. When I told Max she had returned, he asked if he could go to her house to "welcome her home" by hanging out and playing with her. I texted my mom asking if she had plans. I am obviously on my worst day of PMS because when she called back sounding stressed and explaining that she needed to run errands and wasn't sure if she had time to hang out, I burst into heaving sobs. We were in the van, leaving church and the kids were asking, "What's wrong Mommy?!" I explained I was just a little sad and would be fine. Then, Stu turned down a street that did not head toward home and I asked where he was going. Trying to be funny, he responded, "Crazy!" Turns out he'd packed a picnic lunch and drove to a nearby park for the kids to play on the equipment for a while and then we ate at one of the picnic tables at the park. That was one of the few normal, fun things that happened today.
We arrived home from lunch and Max, Ryann and I played a board game. Adam entertained himself by throwing chunky plastic blocks behind our media cabinet. Stu and I decided he likely couldn't hurt anything and it wasn't worth the battle to ask him to stop. While we all played contentedly, Rags chewed ecstatically on a rawhide chew (terrible for dogs, I know, but in a weak moment I bought some for him and try to watch him closely to make sure he doesn't swallow any). Everyone played nice for about 7 minutes. Then, Ryann started to horn in on Adam's block-playing fun and there was a squabble. We asked Ryann to find something else to do since Adam had been playing just fine on his own. She left but was soon back and ended up squashing Adam's fingers in a toy. There was some yelling, crying, tears. I realized at that moment that Rags was working on swallowing down the last of the rawhide chew. I wrestled what I thought was most of it out of his jaw. Adam was put down for his nap and only asked once for his Nukkie which Stu and I decided at the last minute on Friday night to be done with. Ryann and Max were invited by Daddy to play "car wash" in the driveway and I took some time to run to the bookstore to buy a "Mom's Family Planning Calendar". Yes, this is what I do with my few precious minutes of free time these days. I go to bookstores to buy calendars which help me keep track of where my family is and what we are going to eat on any particular day. On the way home, I saw some Open House signs and swung in to walk through the house that was for sale. Lately, I've been obsessing about moving to a house with 4 bedrooms rather than 3, 2 bathrooms rather than 1 and more than a 1 car garage. Interestingly enough, part of the message we heard at church this morning was remembering to count our blessings and give to those in need rather than constantly wanting more and more and more for ourselves. Hrmph.
While I was running my errand, my mom called to ask if she could pick Max and Ryann up (since Adam was already sleeping) to take them out for ice cream. By the time I got home, she'd arrived and taken them away. Stu and I used the child-free hour to lie on the couch, watch TV, and read the paper. Just before Grammie arrived home with the big kids, Rags got up and paced around the coffee table twice. He normally does not pace in circles so I asked, "Do you have to go outside?" He just stood there, staring away from me so I leaned back on the couch and thought everything must be ok. Rags was standing just over Max's clean pile of laundry and suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, he let loose with the grossest, liquidy projectile vomit. Stu yelled, "Oh RAGS!" and he started running across the living room, puke spewing as he went. What resulted was the most hideous smelling, chunky yet watery, brownish line of nastiness spread basically from one side of the living room to the other. It was so horrifying we really couldn't do much but laugh. I put Rags outside and commenced cleaning. Stu took Max's soiled clothes downstairs and threw them back in the wash. Just then, Max and Ryann walked in, all smiles and ready to tell me about their fun time with Grammie. Instead, they both clutched their mouths and noses and groaned, "What is that SMELL?!" I told them Rags had just had a throw up and Ryann yelled, "Well, will you clean it up RIGHT NOW?!" Yes dear, I'm working on it. Next up - Adam awoke from his nap and though he's almost 100% day potty-trained, we still put him in diapers for his nap and overnight sleep. Thank goodness because as soon as I got in his room, he announced, "I go poopy." And "go poopy" he did. He had a terrible, smelly full diaper that made me think he might be suffering from a similar tummy upset as the dog. Finally, I headed downstairs to charge up our little carpet spot cleaner and found that it was completely broken. As in two of the plastic parts of it were busted and it was completely non-functional.
So the puke stayed where it was for the moment. We ate some supper and piled the kids in the car to head to Target to buy a new carpet cleaner and a can of pumpkin to mix with Rags' dinner in the hopes it would entice him to eat and help settle his stomach. I'm sure that the other Target guests thought we were crazy people. I had Adam in the cart portion of my cart and Stu had both Max and Ryann in the cart portion of his cart. Those two wrestled, tickled, shrieked and giggled most of our trip. Adam and I took our habitual trip to the bathroom as he announced partway through our shopping, "I need go pee pee!" I wondered as we walked into the nice big bathroom next to the pharmacy just how many times I've been in that bathroom in the last few years. It's got to be at least 100. We chose a little carpet cleaner and got to the checkout line. We were hoping to stretch out the trip a little so that by the time we got home, we could put the kids in the tub and get them to bed. We were assisted in our attempts to stretch our time out a bit by the people in line ahead of us in the checkout lane. Believe me, we would have moved if we hadn't already piled all of our goods onto the conveyor belt. The nice couple in front of us had almost $200 worth of crap (ahem, stuff) which took several minutes to scan and bag. Then they hemmed and hawed about applying for a Target Visa. They decided what the heck and then we waited while they filled out their form and got approved. We weren't ruffled really, though. The kids were being fine so we waited patiently and finally got all of our items scanned. In fact, I was having fun laughing at my kids' antics. At one point, Adam passed gas and stated, "I toot!" I asked him, "What do you say?" and he nonchalantly replied, "Oh, I'm not saying 'scuse me right now". Oh...well then...
Next up, we got out to the minivan, piled all our new goods in there, thank the LORD had all three kids strapped safely in, and I went to put the cart away. Stu was walking around the rear of the van to get to his side and I was heading back towards the van when suddenly - it leaped backwards with tires squealing, nearly a foot!! I ran towards the van and wrenched open the door calling, "Are you OK?! Are you OK?!" Adam was sobbing and I could see a tiny wound on his cheek. He'd been holding a toy truck when our van was run into by the woman trying to park her car in the spot facing us and misjudged the distance, slamming her front end right into ours. Consequently, the toy truck had flown into Adam's face and caused a little gouge. Stu had been rounding the corner in the rear of the van and was struck in the arm. He was ok but his watch was scratched. Next, we looked at the front ends of our cars and didn't see any damage. I was so shook up, I didn't know what to do next. Stu was with the kids and when the woman and her husband apologized profusely and then walked away, I at first thought it was fine since everyone was ok and there was no damage to the car. But then the Target security officer stopped by to make sure we were ok and both he and Stu suggested that we should probably get the offender's insurance information just in case. The kind security officer escorted me inside and had the couple paged to the customer service desk. They were very nice and gave me their insurance card to copy down their information.
We arrived home in one piece and soon after, Max was in a time out in his room after he bit Ryann in the butt. He said he thought it would be funny but Ryann was crying and had a big, red welt on her lower cheek. Rags had some pumpkin added to his supper and I scooped up and hosed down some more piles of puke in the backyard. Stu assembled the carpet cleaner for me AND THEN I read the directions and realized I needed to wait for the throw-up to dry completely so I could vacuum it first and then use the cleaner. Max's kavetching, in his room, turned up a notch and he said it was due to a stomach ache. I suggested he sit on the toilet to see if that would help and he told me that he thought he'd eaten too much ice cream with Grammie. In fact, she'd told me he hadn't eaten all that much of his ice cream sundae so I assured him that probably wasn't it and he didn't have to worry that he was the kind of kid who couldn't handle his ice cream. He disagreed and tried to persuade me that it was his fudge and....and...something that was kind of like peanut butter cup but not really and sort of sounded like "County Road C" (which is the nearest cross street to our house). I called my mom to try to discern what he was telling me and she laughed out loud telling me he'd ordered a "Fudge-Scotchy" shake. I guess "Scotchy" kinda sounds like "County Road C".
So now here it is 8:30 at night and Stu and I are relaxing in our basement with the pukey puppy at our feet. Stu is participating in the online draft for the fantasy football league he's in this season. There's a huge swath of smelly vomit on the carpet upstairs. Adam's in his crib with no Nukkie. Max is sleeping off his tummy ache and Ryann's probably trying not to lie on her bitten bum-cheek. And honestly, though this was an incredibly long and hopefully not too boring post, I didn't include every little detail (such as the fact that in one breath Max asked to be signed up for gymnastics and in the next lamented the fact that Riley, his friend at daycare, was going to think he was weird for signing up for gymnastics. I tried to assure him that he could do whatever he wanted and had to try not to care what Riley thought and we surfed to YouTube and watched a montage of video clips from the 2008 Olympics, set to music, of the male gymnasts. Ultimately, he decided he wants to give gymnastics a try). We can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.
Comments
Scary about your van in the parking lot!! Glad you are all okay!