We have enough babies in this house.

As mentioned before, we were spending Thanksgiving with SIX kids under the age of SIX. But add one more baby to the list.

Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Hubs wasn't feeling well. He asked what I thought and I told him he was probably just exhausted from all the traveling and it was finally catching up with him. He asked me again what I thought and I told him to just go to the minute clinic so they could either tell him nothing was wrong with him or give him something for whatever actually WAS wrong with him. Two hours later, he calls.

Hubs: Hey

Me: Hey.

Hubs: So I have H1N1.

Me: (feeling kinda bad I blew him off) Oh. Really? Well, you're not old, asthmatic or immunocompromised, so I'm sure you'll be fine. What did they say?!

Hubs: Well... They did the test, and it actually came back negative.

Me: So you don't have H1N1?

Hubs: He said there are a lot of false negatives...

Me: And?

Hubs: He gave me Tamiflu

Me: Ok. So I'll see you in a little while?

Hubs: Yup.

So glad we survived Swine '09.

Gobble Gobble!

It's that time of year again! Thanksgiving! Which means we do the great Georgia Family Tour. Last year, we had a nice, quiet thanksgiving with BIL and SIL. We knew we would be either moving, just have moved or not moved yet, so we didn't make any plans to travel, but invited whoever to come hang with us in whatever state we were in.

This year, we took some time off of work and went to see all the fam. Hubs' side included an Awkward Family Photo shoot. No, there were no head tilts, collar pops or odd animals (or cabbage patch kids) posed with us, but there were a heckofalot of people dressed in black tops and denim bottom standing in a cotton field. When I was packing our stuff, Prissy Miss Strip walked in and said, "What is THAT?!" pointing to the black sweater. I reminded her that we were going to take a family picture while we were in GA and this was what she was wearing. After an extremely heavy, dramatic sigh, she said, "Well, can you pack me something else to wear for after the picture? Black is so boring." Thanks, Fancy Nancy.

Next stop was my family which included the challenges of an actual Thanksgiving dinner. I'm allergic to everything, and Ma is allergic to everything else, so planning meals is difficult to say the least. We finally decided the easiest thing to do would be to deep fry a turkey in peanut oil. Hubs was in charge of the deep fryer, and not only did he make a delicious turkey, he managed to NOT burn the house down or have to go the the ER. Woo to the hoo! We also had my cousin and her kids over which meant we had six sweet stair steps; F (5), Strip (4), C (3), Nugget (2), B (1) and G (newborn). I was really hoping that this day would make me want to kiss the doctor who performed Hub's vasectomy on the face, but it made me want to kick him instead. I held that sweet baby for six hours straight and had so much fun watching all the "older" kids play together. I was really hoping to stuff them all in the back of our car, but no dice. I was a breath away from snagging G, but the empty car seat by the door blew my cover. Oh well! Maybe next time!

Meet Nugget

Or as we like to call him, Goat Boy. This morning, as I was making them oatmeal, he asked for an apple. I washed one and told him he could have it after he finished his oats. After wolfing down his bowl, I gave him his apple. He's come a long way in the apple eating world. At first, he would get apple slices, chew them up, suck out the juice then spit apple pulp out all over the table. Lovely. Then he wanted to eat an apple like his Big Sis, but couldn't get them started. Now? He's good to go.

So I hand him his apple and tell him to eat it at his little table. I put dishes away from breakfast and go in the laundry room to change over clothes when I hear the pitter patter of footie pjs. Nugget walks in holding the apple stem which is attached to a TINY piece of apple. He looks at me, spits three seeds out and says, "Done!" I go to look for the core, and there is nothing on the table (and the dog is outside). I ask where the rest of his apple is and he holds up the stem. I ask again where the REST of the apple is and he opens his mouth wide and points.

He ate the ENTIRE apple. My child is a goat.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I'm not a big fan of V-day.  I apparently am alone in this feeling.  How do I know, and why am I posting about this in NOVEMBER?  Because Strip, aka social butterfly, has not one, not two, but THREE birthday parties THIS WEEKEND.  I'll give you a few seconds to do the math...

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Get it?  

One on Friday, one on Saturday, and one on Sunday.  Looks like we'll be hitting Target this afternoon!

Mommy=Fail

It was just one of those days.  Everyone woke up a little cranky.  We (I) stumbled down stairs, waved goodbye to Daddy and started our day.  I reached in the fridge to get the milk and....whoops.  Sorry kids, Mommy needs that for her mocha.  Who wants juice for breakfast?  (fail one).

Next, I reach into the pantry for the oatmeal packets.  LARGE box filled with...air.  I thought I had scored because there were two, no wait, THREE packs in the bottom of the box.  But, when I pulled them out, into the light of the kitchen, there were two originals and only one apple cinnamon.  UGH.  So each kid got an original flavored with a 1/2 pack of apple cinnamon to which Strip replied, "The oatmeal tastes funny.  Well, not funny, just not good."  But, we DID have 2 full jars of vitamins, so maybe this day's looking up?

Shuffle everyone upstairs for showers, dried and dressed.  Shuffle everyone back downstairs, and CRAP!  Special Agent Oso's on?!  We're running late!  Double crap!  I need to pack 2 lunches!  I grab 2 (fresh from the dishwasher) thermos cups, fill with water/juice then retrieve lunch boxes from the closet.  On the way back, I hit the pantry.  Graham crackers...nope, empty box.  Craisins...nope, again an empty box.  Suddenly remember why I normally do grocery shopping on Sunday nights even if I can stretch meals through Tuesday.  UGH.  Now we're running late and my kids have no lunch.

LUCKILY, we pass 2 grocery stores on the way to school, so I have the grand idea of stopping in for 2 lunchables, or as I like to call them, a box of salt.  We pass the sucker station and Nugget starts begging.  "No, buddy!  We don't have time!"  And as we pass the Starbucks kiosk, he said, "Mommy?  You want coffee??" in hopes of getting a chocolate milk.  Nope!  In and out.  I then realize, because I've never actually purchased lunchables, I have no idea where in the store they are.  I assume they are near the bacon and I was right!!  AND they are on sale!  Woo hoo!   I grab 2, and turn to leave as Strip shouts, "COOL!  THey even have a Butterfinger!"  UGH!  Turn around.  She's in the class with the peanut allergy, so I quickly scan the shelf for the one with Skittles.  Score!  ANd when I scanned them, they were on even MORE of a sale!

We get there, and like every Tuesday, it's like herding cats.  Finally get in to school, deliver kids to their rooms, hug, kiss, goodbye, and welcome to a few hours of freedom.  Like a good mom, I checked the weather before we left and it was supposed to be in the mid-high 60's today with a slight chance of rain, so I just sent the kids without winter coats.  I cruise on home and curl up with the dog and Sunday's paper to plan meals for the next two weeks and clip coupons.  An hour later (after having mashed potatoes for breakfast), I walk outside to head the the grocery store when, WOOOSH! Cold burst of air hits me, and there's not a single drop of water in the sky.  My poor children have no coats, and they WILL be playing outside today.

Craptastic breakfast+no milk+horrible lunch+no coats+high of 55=horrible mother.

Good news?  Tomorrow is another day.  

I think I'll start my own business.

Nugget needs practice with sitting and staying, so we headed up to the local bookstore for story hour.  And when they say hour, the mean hour.  And when I say bookstore, I mean a two-year-olds' personal hell.  All those books, toys AND a train table, and you want me to SIT?!?

Anyway, we'd been up there before and I discovered it was a great place to meet nannies.  No moms or dads were there, just kids and nannies.  The first time, it was really encouraging.  So many kids playing and loving care givers there wiping noses, holding hands, singing songs, etc.  Today?  Nanny hell.  Oh if the parents could have seen their kiddos today.  One nanny, very young with her booty hanging out of her jeans as she sat on the floor, was caring for twins who were VERY young.  It was almost frightening how incapable she was of handling these babies.  As a mom, I understand that we all have "those days," but at one point, she just passed Twin A over to another mom (yes, there was ONE more mom there) while she tended to Twin B.  Do people not watch Dateline?  SVU?  CSI?  I'm a people person, but people are crazy!  Don't hand a baby over to someone you don't know!!  I repeat, PEOPLE ARE CRAZY (and before you say, "Well she may have recognized her from being there before," she didn't.  She even flat out said, "Wow, he normally hates strangers!  I can't believe he went to you!").

Then when story time was over, two nannies sat at the train table (while the older (4 year-olds) kids wandered around the store) and bad mouthed parents, kids, discipline techniques, etc.  At one point, a tiny boy (11 ish months) started making an "EHH!" noise.  As I sit there and cooo along with him, the other nanny (not his)  leaned over and said, "EHH!  EHH!!  I can do that too.  I can make that noise, that's not special."  

Oh.  One of my other favorite lines was, "Are you a live in?"  "GOD no!  If I were a live in, I think I'd kill myself."  AWESOME! 

So  I think I'll start a nanny spy company.  Let me know where your nanny and child(ren) will be, and I'll casually drop in and see how things are going and what they are saying about you.  Nanny Spys.  When nanny cams just aren't enough.