Feelin' crappy, but loved

Uuuuuuggghh! I feel yucky! We all seem to have missed the gamboo that Jonah had (yeah baby!) but I caught something else. I think it's the gothitbyamacktruck virus. Certainly not deadly, but NOT comfortable either. Mostly I've only been feeling yucky at night for the past 3 days. After the kids go to bed (and I finally get to catch my breath), I start feeling achy/coughy/sniffy and when I wake up I feel the same. But after a few hours of being up and about it would subside. Not today! I've been dragging around like a zombie. Uuugghh, I need a nap!

Actually, I told Chris I wasn't sick, that I was just faking because I knew he found the raspy voice and the smoker's cough dang sexy. I don't think he believed me though cause when I leaned in for a smooch he put on a gas mask. A fine how do you do!

So today my house is going to pot. I've got so much to do, but I'm such a slow poke today I'll never get it all done. And unfortunately, my chillins feel just fine and are way to energetic and trouble-making for my taste. Calgon, take me away . . . .


***as an addendum to this post, I must say that I feel loved. I Visit Teach a lovely lady, whom I have adored since the first Sunday she taught Jonah's Sunbeams class shortly after we moved here. She was the only one who could get my shy guy to release his vice-like grip on my now-wrinkled/tear-stained skirt to go it a-la-big-boy style to class. Under her wing, my guy became brave and started enjoying going to church (which means so did I). She will forever hold a special place in my heart and now I get to be her visiting teacher. Sadly, I have been a very poor one--something seemed to always come up to keep me from visiting her consistently (usually my monkeys getting sick the morning of our appointment--aargh!). When I do get to visit her, I have such a wonderful time talking with her and have so much fun with her kiddos (who are SO adorable), I feel I must be getting more out of our rendezvous than she. Well, I spoke to her today and she could hear how pathetic I sound. She promptly offered to pick up the grade-school monkeys so I could have a break. My inner guilt-monster immediately apparated onto my shoulder and ordered me to refuse, but the little shoulder angel (who incidentally looks like and talks like a mini-Chris) told me to "Just let someone actually help you out once in a while, for heaven sakes!" I listened to the winged one. I'm letting her pick up my monkeys, and I am enjoying a few free moments to, of all things, blog (followed by more cleaning up of my incredibly messy house while the baby is sleeping). Does it count as visiting teaching if the visiting teachee does all the work?

Dinner conversation

Mom: (while scooping beef onto rice into a tupperware for Chris's lunch tomorrow) "won't your friends be jealous about the dog food I'm sending to school with you?"

Dad: "Actually, they are jealous. I'm like the kid with the good lunch that everyone wants to trade with. They're always asking, 'so what did your wife send with you today?'"

Mom: "Wow! Maybe this makes me a total nerd, but that just makes me glow."

Jonah: "Nerds GLOW?!"

At least the floor is clean

So Jonah woke up this morning complaining (mildly for him) that his tummy was hurting. But nothing came of it and he said he was sooo huuunnggrry. I let him eat a little bit of breakfast and within 5 minutes he proceeded to HURL it back all over the kitchen. Appropriately this gigantic stinky mess was made 5 minutes before we had to rush out the door to get Kolbi even close to on time to school. Guess who was late for school and guess who isn't going today? My kitchen is now clean and disinfected and Jonah gave kudos, "wow the kitchen is really clean mom". So far, no more stinky messes (I'm currently pounding on wood table) and Jonah's new accessory is a big plastic bowl. I'm really hoping to avoid Hurlapalooza 2007. We'll see. . .

HEELLLLOOO?

Hello? **hello? hello? hello? hello?**


Anybody out there? **Anybody out there? Anybody out there? Anybody out there? Anybody out there?**





Guess not. *Sigh!*

Things I'll never understand:

• How such an immensely loud bellow can come out of Zoe's itty-bitty body.

• why, upon seeing a kleenex approach her nose, the baby promptly turns and wipes her boogery nose ON MY SHOULDER!

• How, when I say, "I have to go to the bathroom real quick, BE GOOD!" it comes across to my children's ears as "let the the floodgates of hades open up! Welcome all demons from the depths! Fight/shove/scream/gouge/bite each other. All rules are null and void until I come back."
  

• How the turning of the lock on the bathroom door sends out subliminal messages to my children that say "stop what you're doing! Go pound on the bathroom door! You need ________ RIGHT NOW! Whine and cry like your life is coming to an end until that door is open!" When they hear the click signaling the door has been unlocked, does that release them from the evil spell, hence those angelic smiles that appear the second the door opened?
  

• Why Jonah, the boy who is always STAAARRRVVVINNGG (especially when asked to do an unpleasant task "but I'm too hungry!") takes an ETERNITY!!!!!! to eat his meals. Seriously, the boy ages faster than he eats! Molasses could take a lesson from him!
  

• my children's fascination with the drawstrings on my sweats. Do you like to see a full moon? Stop the madness!!! For that matter, my belt is not a rock climbing toe-hold miss Zoe. Please leave mom's dignity and pants around her waist and not south of the border!
  

• Aiden's Sponge-bob nudie-pants phase. I know you can get dressed by yourself little mister! Do you just enjoy hearing me bellow "Aiden get dressed!" a million times? Do you get some kind of prize if I say it over 200 times a day? Going for the guiness book of world records are we? Or are those new spiderman undroos just to stellar to cover up? Clue me in here.
  

• Where all these dirty dishes keep coming from. Didn't I just wash you? I swear they multiply like bunnies! How is it that it takes me hours to clean the kitchen and nanoseconds to UNDO all the sweatshop-type labor?
  

• Where all of my time goes. Did somebody mess with my watch again? Is there a black hole somewhere in my house? Is my Time holding clandestine meetings somewhere with my Sanity, my Money, and my Mind? Cause those are mysteriously absent too. Didn't we just get up? How is it time for lunch already? Didn't I just drop Kolbi off at school? How is it 3 o'clock already and why does my house look like I haven't done a thing all day?
  

• Why my children feel it is their mission in life to make a huge mess in whatever room I am not currently trying to clean up? "Mom's in the kitchen cleaning up, let's hit the bedrooms with tornado-force destruction! Mom's cleaning the bathroom, the living room is up for grabs!"
  

• How my children can squander those brain cells I (so generously I might add) donated to them upon childbirth. I'd give anything to have them back, how can they mean so little to my children? For the love of Pete, why don't they use them????? (P.s. I do love you grandpa Pete!)

This is just a small list, more to come, I promise!!!

Let's talk, Turkey!

My *sniff* baby is learning to talk. Granted, she's no great conversationalist, but she is a lot of fun to talk to. She thinks she's having a serious discussion, with the back-and-forth banter. My favorite is when you ask her what she wants and she says "Ummm, . . . . blaah!" (*insert huge grin*).

• Zoe's new favorite word is "Aaaaaid-yen". But it must be said at maximum volume.

• She's known some signs for while, although most have been greatly modified (or zo-ified). For instance, the sign for drink is this:

• Zoe's sign for drink looks more like this: coupled with the bellowing of the word "MOM!!!!!". Sadly, I'm not just trying to be funny. She really does this!
  

• Some days I fear she has turrets syndrome because when she's mad, it sounds like she's screaming obscenities in a foreign language. It makes my ears burn!
  

• On a side note, Zoe gives great kisses. If the queen deems you worthy she will shower you with kisses. If she considers you a peasant, foget about it! For you poor suckers who have never experienced one of her wet ones, simply press your face to the screen and imagine waterfalls, rivers, rain, etc. It's not the same, but it'll have to do.

• 

I'm a believer!

Toy Story is real people! How else would you explain this??



Can you guess where I found poor Luke? He must think he's been banished to the ice world Hoth.