Is that you, Rod Serling?

I think I've been watching too much Lost, because I SWEAR. I think I'm living in a parallel universe all of a sudden.

Yesterday Camryn discovered the art of card making. She was bored and came up to my office seeking entertainment. I pointed out the cardmaking supplies, gave her a couple of idea books and the scraps and off she went. She's pretty good at it. Best of all, it makes her happy.

So this afternoon Camryn once again went up to the office to make cards. I did a few chores, then joined her in my office. As I hit the top step, the clutter from the playroom side of the office smacked me in the face (not literally, but it's almost as bad as really being slapped. I abhor clutter.)

I sighed as I parked myself in my chair and said something to the affect of, "I swear, I hate that pile of junk. One day I'm just going to put it all in a trash bag and throw it away."

Camryn said, "I'll clean it for you."

I waited.

And waited.

But the "if you pay me" part of her sentence never came. She just got up and started cleaning.

Zoinks, Shaggy. Is this really my house?

I told her I'd pay her $20 (it was a HUGE mess). She just shrugged and said, "Okay".

She's working for minutes. TracFone minutes. They are more precious than gold to her right now.

But I'm puzzled that she didn't first ask for payment before getting to work.

That part is strange.

But whatever. I'll take it.

Oops, I Did It Again

Funny story.

Yesterday was clean up day. The lady who cleans our house is coming today, and I always feel compelled to tidy before she gets here. Go figure.

Camryn's job yesterday was to move all of the gifts under the big tree in the front of the house, vacuum up all the faux pine needles that have fallen off of it due to excess climbage by the cats, then replace the gifts and rewrap the two whose paper has been shredded by the aforementioned cats.

K.

Camryn got to work without complaint (a true Christmas miracle) and then I heard screaming, wailing and yes, I think I even heard gnashing of teeth (my own, it turns out...)

The vacuum noise stopped. The crying (Lillian's) started and it grew louder as the girls approached me.

Lillian thrust this into my face:

It seems that the cats had snagged Angel off the kids' tree and had their way with her, and then Camryn had accidentally vacuumed up the right side of her hair.

Lillian was distraught.

Camryn was laughing (I have to admit it was pretty funny...)

"She looks like Britney Spears when she shaved her head!"

I couldn't help laughing. Lillian didn't think our laughter was funny.

I assured Lillian that we could replace the sweet angel's hair with just a little bit of craftiness.

Britney Spears.

Crack me up.

The Tides of Trouble

Most of us, swimming against the tides of trouble the world knows nothing about, need only a bit of praise or encouragement - and we will make the goal. ~Jerome Fleishman

Today I was nominated for a "When Life Gives You Lemons" award by my friend Lindsay. I don't know what I did to deserve it, but Lindsay's award totally turned the tides of trouble for me today.

Today was doctor day for Camryn and Aiden. It's that time of year that I usually dread: annual check-up time. It's usually not so bad if no one needs shots, but with four kiddos, it's always someone's turn to be vaccinated.

Today was Camryn's turn. She thought she had until age 14 before she needed shots again, but the AMA (or whoever determines the vaccination schedule for kids) decided that the magical age for all those booster shots is now 11. Guess who just turned 11? Yep. Camryn.

It's Monday; it's raining. That's a bad enough omen right there. Camryn had to be coerced to wake up today, and she was late getting out to the car (I limited myself to two separate blasts on the car horn, but it was hard!) So you know as soon as her tushie hit the van seat she's all in-a-mood, right? It didn't get better when we got to the doctor's office, either. In fact, it was in FULL force. She had the whole bangs over the eye, iPod earphones in the ears, giving-Mom-the-evil-eye routine kicked up several notches.

GUH-REAT. This is going to be a BLAST. CANNOT WAIT. Bring it.

Aiden was fine with the whole appointment. He didn't care for removing all of his clothing in exchange for the flattering paper gown, but he sucked it up and got busy playing his Nintendo DS Club Penguin game. Barely noticed the doctor when she came in. Got through the exam just fine. No big.

Camryn, on the other hand, wanted to keep the earphones in her ears while the doctor was trying to talk to her. I grabbed the cord and plucked the 'phones out of her ears and demanded she give me the iPod. That's the height of rudeness to me, and I wasn't the only one feeling that way. I sensed some irritation in the doctor's voice as well.

And it just went downhill from there. Camryn's feet were terribly stinky, and Lillian kept making rather obnoxious observations to that fact, waving her hand in front of her face and being the typical annoying 4 year-old sister. I could tell Camryn wanted to throttle Lillian. (I kinda' did, too.)

We got through the exam, and after exhorting Camryn to give up soda and start eating more vegetables the doctor said the word Camryn was dreading: VACCINATIONS. Camryn needed two, which was less than the four she had anticipated. Aiden needed one (chicken pox booster) which, when it came out of the doctor's mouth went right over Aiden's head (he was completely absorbed by Club Penguin on the DS). I breathed a sigh of relief. I could break the news to him gently.

HA.

When the doctor left the room, the first thing Camryn blurted out was, "AIDEN! Did you HEAR HER? YOU HAVE TO GET A SHOT, TOO!"

Fiddlesticks and shamrocks. CAMRYN! That wasn't something that Aiden needed to hit him full force in the face. I needed to sneak up on him with that information. Goodgooglymoogly.

And the proverbial stink hit the fan.

Aiden lost it. He doesn't like shots. He barely got through the finger prick.

I could've killed Camryn. Or just seriously wounded her. Pinched her at least.

I restrained myself.

Aiden started crying and saying, "I don't want a shot! I don't want a shot! I don't want a shot!" Poor kid didn't want a haircut last night, either, but he was starting to look like the Shaggy Dog. He got a buzz cut anyway and cried for about 45 minutes afterwards.

And now this.

The nurse finally came in with the needles. She asked, "Who wants to go first?" I told Camryn she needed to since Aiden had gone first with the exams. Camryn flat out refused. I mean, dug her heels in and shook her head and just said, "NO. Aiden has to go!" I wanted to grab her and bend her over my knee, but I was stuck. So I turned to Aiden.

He ran away.

I grabbed him and tried to wrestle him into my lap.

The boy is strong. I mean, REALLY strong.

It took me a good 3-4 minutes to get Aiden pinned down and still so he could get his shot. I've never been more embarrassed. The poor nurse just stood there, aghast. I'm sure it's a story she'll repeat many times in the course of her career.

Camryn took her two shots with no complaints. Then she asked for her iPod back.

"ABSOLUTELY FREAKIN' NOT, " I said, gritting my teeth.

Needless to say, I did not have a good morning....

...until I sat down at the computer and found Lindsay's e-mail nominating me for the "Lemons to Lemonade" award. In her nomination she said:

"Beth - from The Right Regrets. If you don't know her, I am not even sure how to describe her. I can only tell you that I have had the pleasure of meeting her IRL and she is one of the most positive and funny people I have ever known."

So thanks, Lindsay. Thank you for bringing a spot of sunshine to my day. I'm not always so positive, but thanks to good friends like you, I can find the positive amidst the negative.

And now I'm supposed to:

Post the logo on my blog. Check.



Nominate blogs that show great attitude or gratitude.

I nominated my friend Cyndi, who just always seems to find the sunshine when there's nothing but rain and my friend Brandi, who has more difficulty thrown her way than anyone really should bear, but she keeps her chin up even when I'm sure she wants to throw in the towel (and tomorrow is her birthday!).

Link to the nominees within my blog post. Check.

Notify the recipients of the award by commenting on their blog. Will do.

Share the love and link back to the person from whom you received your award. That's Lindsay, and I linked to her above, so I think I'm done!

Happy Monday, everyone!

Worth 1,000 Words... and about $4.50

This is what my car looks like on the passenger side.

Guess what happened?



My daughter happened, that's what.

Not the younger one. That's too predictable.

No, this was the 10 (almost 11) year-old.

Monday when the kids were out of school we went to Target. Camryn brought along a new book by her new favorite author, Liz Kessler. She'd just gotten a delivery of Emily Windsnap books from Amazon (thanks, Grammy!), and she couldn't put the book down. I can totally relate. I'm that way with books, too.

So we arrived at Target, and fearing that her precious new literary treasure would (gasp!) be stolen right out of our van, Camryn put it somewhere that wouldn't tempt a thief.

And the dash became jammed.

It took two days and numerous attempts to open the glove compartment. Finally we gave up trying to carefully open it and we just pried it open with a screwdriver. The latch broke. Glove compartment would no longer stay closed.

Hubby removed the whole thing last night in hopes that his magic putty would fix the lock. He's all McGyver-like that way.

Alas, his epoxy tricks didn't work, and now we have a gaping hole in the car. I told the kids they'd get sucked into the engine if they weren't good in the car. (No, not really, but wouldn't you be the tiniest bit tempted?)

That "I'm going to hide my FOUR DOLLAR BOOK" has turned into a "NOW WE HAVE TO PAY A COUPLE OF HUNDRED DOLLARS TO PUT THE JUNK DRAWER BACK INTO THE VAN."

I see two positives in this situation.

(1) At least my daughter prizes literature enough to want to keep someone from stealing it (I'm stretching, I know...)

and

(2) This will follow her for a lifetime. It will be a story told countless times over, repeated to new friends and heck yeah, new BOYfriends and will be held over her head at the most convenient times. ("What? You want me to buy you WHAT? Well, I could've afforded that if we hadn't dropped 2 Ben Franklins to fix the glove compartment. Remember that, sunshine?")

Oh, yeah. This will be fun.

Just Like That

It happened.

I dropped a little girl off at school this morning, and this afternoon a woman sat in the seat my baby girl had occupied just 7 hours before.

Today my 10 (almost 11) year-old daughter entered womanhood. Yep, she started her period.

I'm not shocked. We've suspected this was coming for awhile now with all the other changes she's been experiencing, but it just feels weird. My husband and I were just marveling at our beautiful daughter two nights ago, both of us commenting that she seems to have matured in a hurry. She really is a gorgeous young lady, smart and wise to boot. I'm so proud of her, but I still wanted her to be a little girl for a little longer. I don't think I was ready for this. Not at all.

Camryn's taking it all in stride, as usual. She was a tad weepy when she got into the car. When I asked why she was sad she said, "I'm just not ready for this yet." That makes two of us, dear.

There wasn't much talk on the drive home. With a nosy 7 year-old brother in the back seat there wasn't a lot Camryn could say that didn't get met with a "What? What's that?" from Aiden. She popped in her iPod ear buds, leaned the chair back and said to me, "We'll talk when we get home, 'k?"

Whew.

When we got home, I showed her how to use a maxi-pad and talked about some things to be careful about. She asked some questions and that was that. She recently read a book I bought her called The Care and Keeping of You that is a published by the American Girls series. It was very informative and she learned a lot and asked questions about the things she didn't understand. If you have a girl, I highly recommend the book.

My sweet baby is taking a long, hot bath right now. She has some cramps and such, so told her to go relax. That's what I always did when I had my monthly visitor. Daddy is bringing home flowers for his princess tonight, and we'll most likely go out to eat (though Camryn, hubby and I will be the only ones who know why). We just want her to know how special this is. A pain in the rear most months, but special nonetheless.

And suddenly I feel every one of my 35 years. My baby is a woman.

Wow.

It Has Started

Camryn LOVES Christmas. She came through the door from the garage last night all excited to tell me that the local radio station was playing Christmas music. That inspired her to start the decoration process this morning. She rooted around in the basement and found a few things to make her room look festive.

I'm not ready for this yet.

The Day After

I voted yesterday. I only stood in line for 45 minutes, but I have heard tales from others about 2 hour lines. I guess we went at the right time, but even then the parking lot of the church where we vote was packed full. It was a wonderful sight to see so many people out exercising their rights. I just hope the long lines didn't deter any voters. I was shocked to see only 9 machines inside our polling place. The pre-election turnout should've been a cue to order more machines.

After supper last night I changed into my PJs and laid down on the bed for a minute. I fell asleep briefly (at 7 pm!), but my oldest awakened me and asked me if it was a good time to start her science unit. The teacher has left the teaching of Chapter 3 up to the parents. You can imagine why: it's all about S-E-X. Well, part of it is about puberty, but the second half of the chapter is about the male and female reproductive systems, reproduction and sexual abuse. I'm grateful that I'm the one that gets to present this info to my daughter, and I'm amazed that at age 10 she doesn't already know about this stuff.

So we sat and went over the chapter last night with me answering all of her questions. When I was done she still didn't understand how the sperm gets to the egg (the lessons stop short of explaining intercourse), so I had to help her understand that. Having really never given much thought to HOW I was going to talk her through all of that, the best thing I could come up with was likening the penis (which she pronounced, "PEN-ISS" instead of "PEE-NIS") to a garden hose and the vagina to a milk jug. How's that for sex ed? She still didn't get it, so I told her to think of herself as the cup, the opening on the lid of the cup as her vajayjay and the straw that goes into the opening in the lid as the penis. I think she got it. She said that's all she needs to know until 7th grade when (evidently) she'll learn all about S-E-X ('cause you know she ain't sayin' it. She's spellin' it.)

Around 10 pm we finished our lesson and she headed off to bed. I stayed right where I was and fell asleep on my husband's side of the bed. I don't know when I woke up and moved to my side, but it didn't take me long to go back to sleep. I didn't watch one minute of voting coverage. I slept like a rock.

This morning I awoke to the news that we have a new Democratic President. Although he wasn't my choice, I will commit to pray for him as he leads our nation. I encourage you to go here daily as you pray, too. You might even want to sign up for the 77 days of prayer for our new President; they'll send you a daily e-mail for 77 days.

My heart is heavy for our nation. I don't think an Obama presidency is going to be good for us, but I know my God is in control. My hope is in Him and Him alone.

Guest Blogger (Kind Of)

This sure is turning out to be an Aiden-centric blog lately. Didn't mean it to be, but right now he's my favorite kid.

What? You don't find yourself having moments (days, weeks) where you have a favorite child? I do love each of my children equally and greatly, but sometimes there are stretches where I prefer the company of one kid simply because the other 3 are DRIVING ME BANANAS.

Right now Lillian is in a Tourette's phase. She sings spontaneously and loudly and repeats things A LOT. It's most annoying. And there's the yelling and the growling. She's the living incarnation of the strong willed child.

Quinn is in a "I can't get the words out of my mouth fast enough and therefore it's impossible to comprehend what I'm saying especially because I refuse to pronouce the letter R correctly, making me sound like I was born in Boston" phase. Arrrrrrr. Arrrrrr. Arrrrr... I sound like a pirate when I correct his speech.

Camryn is female, she's 10, on the cusp of womanhood and she thinks the world revolves around her. NO has suddenly disappeared from the list of words she comprehends. She can dish it, but she won't take it. 'Nuff said.

So that leaves Aiden. Sweet, do anything to please me Aiden. He's like a lap cat, that one. So docile and compliant and loves to be stroked, physically and emotionally. We totally get each other. He's so like me it's scary. Maybe that's why I like him so much. It's a form of narcissism.

The following was plucked from his Friday folder when I cleaned out his backpack over the weekend. I just had to share. I have typed it just as he wrote it, misspellings and all.

CREATION

I am glad that God created the day so that I can play.

I am happy God created the season winnter so that I can play in the snow.

I am delighted that God created the color red because I like red lightsabers.

I am pleased that God created the fruit/vegetable Bannana because I like Pennut budeer banana sanwichs.

I am excited that God created the animal tiger because I like the strips.

I am thankful God created the Sabbath when I can rest and play legos.

And God rested, and played Legos, and it was good.

The Greatest Swimmer Interviewed

This is a video I shot right after Lillian swam without her floaties on Monday. That's Camryn doing the interview, and at the end it's Aiden's voice you hear saying, "And we're off." That was a totally spontaneous moment that made me laugh. Don't know where he picked up that phrase, but we all had a good laugh after he said it.

(That's Quinn in the red shirt. His SuperSoaker was being used as a camera. He must've been getting another view of the interview...)

I left my daughter in the boonies

Today I drove my 10 year-old daughter out to camp. She's never before been to a summer camp. I think she is in for a rude awakening.

I loved camp when I was a kid. I spent a week at Camp Winnetaska (near Pell City, Alabama) in summer 1983 and again in summer 1984. I ate it all up: the camp songs, the swooning over the "hot boys" (gack!), the swimming, the sleeping in bunks in cabins with no central air conditioning, the dining hall, the spirit competitions, the skits.... all of it. ATE IT UP. I have very fond memories of my time at camp. I wish they had summer camp for grown-ups. I'd be the first one to sign up. Even if there was no air conditioning. Really.

I was the one to encourage Camryn to go this week. She asked a school friend to go the same week so they'd have buddies, and they even got assigned to the same cabin. She and Hannah have talked about camp for weeks. She seemed over the moon.



Today Camryn wouldn't eat much breakfast. Camp butterflies. She was terrified that her other cabin mates wouldn't like her. I gave her the mom speech ("If those girls don't like you, then that's their tough luck. You rock!") but it didn't work. She fretted all the way out to the middle of the boonies where the camp is located.

We arrived, removed her well-packed suitcase from the trunk, and headed off to check Camryn in and find her cabin. As soon as she saw Hannah, the fears seemed to melt away. I went through the check-in process and soon I was getting the eye rolls from Camryn that mean I need to hurry up and get out of her space. Gotcha.

Can't you just see the contempt in her eyes?



One of the counselors helped us find Camryn's cabin. Her "huddle leader" was outside waiting on us. I asked if I needed to come in and help make her bed. What Camryn said stopped me cold.

"No. I can make my own bed, Mom." (MOM!) "I think I'll be okay."

This is the child that whined and groaned about stripping the sheets off her bed this morning so I can wash them and have them ready for our cleaning lady to put back on the bed on Thursday. This is the child that hates making her bed. This is the child that stomped and frumped for hours two weeks ago when I told the cleaning lady not to put the sheets back on her bed because the room was left a mess (the kids KNOW they have to clean their rooms so Kim can vacuum and make the beds, and if they don't, Kim doesn't clean or remake the beds with fresh sheets...)

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

And with that, I was dismissed. I did manage to get a parting shot of Camryn with her counselor (huddle leader), Amanda.



I hurried, because Camryn's body language was SCREAMING, "C'mon, Mom. There is a porch full of girls WATCHING US. This is SO NOT COOL!" I got a brief hug out of her, and then I took Lillian's hand and said to my other kids, "C'mon guys. Let's go."

She didn't need me. She wanted to act all tough and run me off, but by Wednesday she'll be covered in mosquito bites and crazy homesick.

I hope she remembered to put on her sunscreen. And her bug repellent. And I hope she remembers to put her dirty laundry in the mesh bag I gave her. And I hope she's not too hot.

I miss her already.

Three Things

(1) I cannot stand multi-level marketing. Someone gave my name to a guy from Cutco knives, and he came to the house today peddling the most freakin' expensive knives I've ever seen in my life. If I'm going to pay that much for cutlery, they better stand up and fix the chicken themselves.

(2) My daughter got her Stanford Acheivement test scores back today. According to her results, she could probably take the GED and pass. All of her scores were labeled "post high school". She's TEN. Ironically, her lowest score was on the L-I-S-T-E-N-I-N-G portion of the test. Go figure.

(3) My 7 year-old son CRACKS.ME.UP. Tonight the kids were especially complimentary of the dinner I prepared (Salsa chicken, fiesta rice, refried beans and cheese quesadillas to dip in the beans... plus a homemade peach cobbler with fresh peaches... total Mexican starch fest!) I told the boys that I would teach them how to cook, because even boys need to have that skill. Aiden said his wife could cook, and I told him she might, be he needed to know how in case his wife was tired or busy or whatever. Aiden looked up and said, "I'll just go buy her a Hungry Woman dinner." Ya know... like a Hungry Man dinner, only for the females. Funny, funny boy.

Accomplishment

I shared my to do list a few blog entries ago, and I'm proud to say it's partially finished. I feel empowered!

On Wednesday, Lillian and I cleared the ledge. We left a few things in place, because there is a huge neighborhood yard sale on May 10th, and there were some things on the ledge that need to go in the sale, or in the trash can outside, or to the dump.



And then we cleaned out and organized the bottom tall cabinet (to be 100% honest, Lillian enjoyed some Goldfish and an apple juice box and verbally encouraged me while I worked, saying things like, "Wow, Mommy! You are a good cleaner girl!")

Now that cabinet holds paper towels (previously stored under the kitchen desk) and the kids' lunchbox stuff.



When my husband came home, he was inspired by my enthusiasm, and he finished emptying the upper tall cabinet.

Well, I'll say that he was more inspired by me saying, "That upper cabinet is your stuff, so you need to grab a box and clean it out," but he actually took the suggestion to heart, so I'll give him credit. He saved a few of his Nutri System entrees, because he likes them (shiver). Ick.



The Nutri System boxes are now sitting in the floor of my scrapbook room, waiting to be photographed and listed on eBay. Hopefully I'll get around to that this weekend, but I also have to help the boys clean out their closet (again) and rotate the summer clothes to the bottom racks of the kids' closets.... and then there's the laundry. Always the laundry. So if I just get the Nutri System photographed and organized, that will be a big hurdle cleared.



And, it wasn't on my original list, but I did get the countertop cleaned off this morning. It was cluttered with junk, and now it looks like this:



In other news, here's what Quinn and I worked on last night while Daddy took Camryn and Aiden to Math & Science night at their school:



I'm so very proud of him, because just 2 weeks ago he was stumbling over naming the letters. I had a conference with his 4K teacher and we talked about some things we could do to enrich his letter learning. They've worked, because now he's calling out letters he sees on signs when we're in the car, and he is copying words I write. I'm amazed at his progress, and he is so very proud of himself!

A couple of other tidbits...

Camryn's room has remained clean the entire month. She has needed some reminders, so I think we'll give her a small reward at the end of the month and encourage her to keep cleaning without reminders. Then she will get the loft bed. (The original agreement was that we would consider the bed at the end of April... there was never a guarantee...)

Aiden never ceases to amaze me with his intellect and powers of reasoning. A few days ago I was sitting with him watching something about space. Maybe Nova or Discovery channel or something (the kid DVRs everything that has anything to do with science!) The topic was way over my head (galaxies and black holes and whatnot... yawn...) but Aiden was thoroughly engrossed. I was half listening, so I got the gist of what they were saying: in billions of years our galaxy will collide with the Andromeda galaxy. Gotcha.

At one point Aiden looked at me, and I could see the gears turning. He said, "Hmmm... I bet when that happens, we'll have a lot more planets in our solar system."

You go, baby Carl Sagan. You rock that space stuff, son. I'll just sit here and pretend to know what you're talking about. (The kid got his scientific curiousity from his Daddy...that's for darn sure!)

So that's what's happening here this week. It's been a pretty good one, and I'm looking forward to the next one.

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da. Life goes on.

This, I Know, is Payback

As a child I was a stuffer.

When Mom said, "Clean your room!" I would stuff the clutter into the closet and under the bed and dresser instead of putting things back in place. I guess I had better, more important things to do with my time, like playing with Barbies or Strawberry Shortcake dolls or My Little Ponies or reading the next Nancy Drew book in the series. For whatever reason, stuffing just became my method of operation.

Mom always said one day I'd have a child just like me. Why do moms curse us that way? If mine hadn't ever said that, I might have a perfectly lovely daughter who likes to put away her things.

(Yeah, right.)

Instead I gave birth to a stuffer. She's like me in so many ways, so it shouldn't surprise me that this, too, is something we have in common.

(Note: I have since reformed my ways. I am a recovering stuffer. There is hope!)

I picked said stuffer (my 10 year-old, Camryn) up from school yesterday and she immediately revealed that she had no homework to do.

"Perfect!" I said. "We shall spend the afternoon cleaning your room, then!"

"Uh, I mean, um, I do have a little studying to do for a geography test. I neeeeeeeed to study for that, so I guess we'll have to clean my room another day."

"So sorry, chica. We'll do the room, then I'll help you study."

Silence reigned on the drive home. I'm sure I felt tiny daggers pierce my skin as she glared at me from time to time. Mere flesh wounds. I was pumped. Let's do this thang!

We started our project around 4 pm (I had to help Aiden with his homework, which was an entirely different battle...)

Three hours, two bags of garbage, five (yes, FIVE) dirty dishes, half a dozen putrid socks and one laundry basket full of empty hangers later, we were done.

The room is blissfully clean. I can actually get further than the doorjamb without getting a headache.

Bonus: I won't need to buy hangers until the year 2015, IF AT ALL.

Serendipitously, we performed our cleaning on the first of April. My husband and I have offered to buy the child a loft bed (one of her deepest desires in life) if she keeps the room clean until May 1st. We'll see how long it lasts.

I don't think I'll be shelling out the dough for the new bed in 30 days, but she may just surprise me.

And then again, I may find Jimmy Hoffa stuffed under her bed at the end of the month.

Stay tuned, folks. Stay tuned.

Guest blogger

Today, I bring you a guest blogger, my very own daughter, Camryn. She will share the poem she wrote to enter in a poetry competition.

Ahem... maestro? (Erm, or is it maestra?)

Lilly
by Camryn

There is a girl I know.
Her name is Lilly,
and she is very willy nilly.

Now Lilly, you see,
is quite silly.
She'll put a worm in your sandwich
and name it Billy.
She also eats strange things,
like snail slime and noodles,
and even Presidents and poodles!

One day I went to see Lilly
and guess what she was doing?
She was skating on stairs
and fighting with bears!

She asked me to join her;
I said, "Yes!"
and you can guess...
Oh, yes! We got in a ginormous mess!

Farts are Funny!

This was the conversation going on in our van on the way home from school today:

Camryn (practicing spelling words for the upcoming bee for which she qualified): Mommy, spell "in fot u a shun".

Me: What? I've never heard that word. (It didn't sound like any word I'm familiar with!) Spell it.

C: INFATUATION.

M: Ohhhhh! Infatuation! Goodness! It sounded like you were saying "infahtuation" like you had a British accent. (Then I proceeded to attempt to speak like someone from Britain, and I accidentally said, "infaRtuation"...)

C: Bwahahahahaha! Mommy! You said INFARTUATION! What is that? Being in love with your poots?

Aiden (from the back of the van): I love MY poots! I don't like other people's poots, but mine smell goo-hoo-hood! Ahhhhhhhh... When I poot, I sniff, sniff, sniff so I can smell them!

C: If I poot when I'm under my covers, I lift the covers and fluff them so I can smell the poot.

A: Underwater poots are the best!


And the conversation went downhill from there until we were all coughing from laughing so hard.
Farts ARE funny!

When I'm old and in an apartment, I will remember this day

My maternal grandmother is currently in a nursing home. She has Alzheimer's disease.

When my kids go to visit my grandmother, they say they're going to Mama Dos' "apartment". To my children, needing an apartment has become synonymous with being forgetful. If I forget where I last put my keys or I call a child by the wrong name, someone will inevitably yell, "Mommy! You need an apartment!"

Thus the title of this entry. When I am old, and I have my own apartment, I know I will still remember every little thing about Saturday, November 3. It was that perfect.

Ever since she was small, my older daughter has known how to yell, "WAR EAGLE!" at the top of her lungs. Granted, when she was too young to say it properly, the phrase sounded more like "GO WIGGLES!" but we knew what she meant.

"War Eagle" is what fans of the Auburn University tigers yell in support of their team. My husband likened it to a secret password kind of thing. Eh. He doesn't get football, but he's kinda right about that. In the state of Alabama, you either yell "War Eagle!" or "Roll Tide". It's one of the things you learn from the time you're born. You're either a Tiger or a Tider.

My family is made up of Tigers. It's in our blood. We love us some Auburn football. We start 'em out young!



I haven't visited Auburn since I was in my 20s. When I found out that the homecoming game was November 3, though, I jumped on the chance to go. It was serendipity. We just happened to be planning on a trip to Birmingham that weekend. I couldn't NOT go.

Early Saturday morning my daughter, sister and I started our trek to the loveliest village on the Plains. My daughter was beside herself with excitement. She wasn't the only one; I couldn't wait to share this part of my life with her.

We arrived in Auburn around 11:30. Parked near Samford Hall, which isn't far from the stadium. Won't tell you what we paid for parking, but it was worth every penny to be so close to everything we wanted to do.

Here we are, fresh from the car and ready for adventure:



We walked down College Street and got our picture made in front of the Auburn University sign:

Then for the good stuff (lunch and shopping at the legendary Toomer's Drugstore. They're famous for their lemonade, which is DEE-LISH!)

We entered the stadium at gate 1 and walked up a short ramp. I could feel Camryn's excitement building. She was literally jumping up and down with glee. This was her first glimpse of my favorite college stadium in the universe:

The weather was perfect. Not a cloud in the sky. Gorgeous blue backdrop. Perfect seats. A gorgeous, sunny Alabama football Saturday. Heaven. Absolute heaven. But it gets better.

I heard "Ladies and gentlemen.... please direct your attention to..." and I turned to my left. I saw Auburn's mascot, War Eagle, getting ready to leave her cage to circle the field. I snapped the lens cover off of my camera and turned in on in time to get this shot. I thought I had missed, but when I got home and was looking through the photos, I was thrilled to see that I had captured her flight!

Here's my beauty, watching her first college football game unfold before her eyes:



Auburn played less than spectacularly, but they were ahead 21-3 at halftime. They went on to win 35-3, but I've seen better defense. Hmph.



Camryn started feeling sick right before the 2nd half was over, so we agreed to watch the band play and then leave. I just love marching bands.



Camryn wore herself out and fell asleep in the car on the way home.


Even though we had to leave early, the day was just awesome. I cannot remember when I've had as much fun as I did on Saturday. I can't wait until my boys are old enough to go.

War Eagle, y'all.

Lemonade Stand

Lemonade Stand: Complicated business venture where Mom buys powdered mix, sugar, lemons and paper cups, then sets up a table, chairs, pitchers and ice for kids who close up shop after three to six minutes and net a profit of fifteen cents.

My sweet 9 year-old daughter is very....... hmm....... entreprenuerial? I guess that's the word. She's constantly thinking up new money making schemes and enlisting me and my hubby to help her. She's got big dreams, I tell ya. Big dreams.

I love her and want to encourage her, but I can always predict how these things will turn out. She'll build up a head of steam, put all the plans together, gather all of the supplies necessary to start the business, run the business for about a week, then lose interest.

I want her to succeed at SOMETHING, but I wish she had a little more follow-through. She's more than the little engine that could.... she's the little engine that does... briefly. She's not the cross-country engine. She's the train you hop on when you want to take a day trip somewhere. She's the commuter train.

Her latest brilliant idea is a cookie business. She found a great versatile cookie recipe in my ScrapShare cookbook and made a chocolate chip version. The recipe calls for cake mix, eggs, oil and add-ins, which can be changed to create many different cookie varieties. Really, it's an easy, cheap recipe and I thought maybe, just maybe, this plan would work. I briefly envisioned my daughter being the next Mrs. Fields. Well, maybe not, but I thought maybe she'd make enough to buy that iPod Nano she's wanted FOR-EVAH.

My daughter and I planned out all of the possible combinations for cookies, made up a "menu" flyer and ordered some of those "free" Vista Print business cards for her new venture. We decided that she would just run her business in our small neighborhood for now, so she made up a batch of cookies and took them to a neighborhood barbeque. She guarded her cookie plate at the self-serve dessert table like a mother hen sitting on her eggs. I told her she wasn't technically supposed to be selling the cookies; she was just there to get the word out about her business. She did end up taking home a buck from a kind older gentleman who insisted on paying for his cookies. She was so proud and ready to get the business off the ground that night.

Two weekends ago I was out of town at a scrapbooking retreat. My parents were here to watch the kids and they helped my daughter make a few batches of cookies. They individually wrapped the cookies in plastic wrap and took them door to door to sell. My daughter came home with around $4 and made lots of contacts.

That's the last I heard of the cookie business. I think she's done with it.

Sigh.

Anyone want to buy a dozen or so lemon cookies? They go great with lemonade if anyone has some of that left over from their kids' 10-second lemonade stand.

Mini Me

People always tell me that my kids look so much like me. I kinda sorta believe them, but I've had a hard time seeing the resemblance. I've always known that Aiden looks like me, because he favors my dad so much. The other three look like babies that were switched for our real children in the hospital nursery. Especially that Lillian. If she wasn't the only baby in the nursery with a plethora of hair, I would swear that I got the wrong kid at checkout time.

So here are my Doppleganger children. The one on the left is me, all late 70s hair and barrettes (the picture was taken in first grade). On the right is a picture of Camryn, taken this summer between 3rd and 4th grade.



And Aiden. Side by side I can see the strong resemblance.



Maybe tomorrow I'll show you how much Quinn favors my nephew, Christopher.

I know you can't wait.

Losses & Gains

This summer we've lost a lot.

Lillian lost her diapers... during the day. (She's now wearing panties...keeping them dry... all day long!)

Quinn lost his floaties. (As of yesterday, he is swimming without them. Sliding without them. Jumping into the water without them. Yea!)

I lost my alarm clock. (I can't seem to open my eyes before 9 am.)

Aiden lost 2 teeth. (The bottom 2... though we had to hold him down to pull them when they became so loose he risked swallowing them in his sleep...)

Camryn lost 1 tooth. (Upper incisor... Tooth Fairy was too generous, giving her $6!)

I'm losing my grandmother a little more every day (though she was truly lost to Alzheimer's over 10 years ago, her health is failing and she is slipping away...)

With all the losses, I've gained so much in the past few months.

I've gained a new appreciation for my husband (I remember every day why I married him almost 12 years ago! He keeps me laughing. He keeps me amazed. He just plain keeps me.)

I've gained a new love for my kids (as frustrating as they can be sometimes, they're each so unique and bring me SO MUCH JOY. My love for them deepens every day!)

I've gained weight (which I desperately need to lose. DESPERATELY.)

I've gained a righteous suntan (yes, I use sunscreen!)

I've gained contentment. (I have learned to be truly happy with what I have, because I have A LOT, and not necessarily monetarily...)

It's been a summer of losses and gains. I can't wait to see what the future holds.

It's In the Genes

Organization must be in the genes somewhere, 'cause my 9 year-old daughter has the gift. It has been passed on to the next generation!

For most of the kids' lives I have struggled with getting them to clean up after themselves. Only my oldest was diligent about tidying up after playing. She's a natural organizer, and being the oldest, quite eager to please her clean freak of a mother.

I was quite frazzled with the children yesterday. The kids and I spent 2 days last week cleaning the playroom after Hurricane Lillian (my 2 year-old) went through there; everything (shelves, chairs, toys) was turned over and dumped into the floor. It was a huge mess, and therefore a huge task to take on, but we got it done.

The only problem with cleaning the playroom and reorganizing it is that it's just going to end up messy again. That's why we put it upstairs above the garage (so I wouldn't have to see it unless I purposefully went up there!) So anyway, the boys and Lillian messed everything up again, despite Camryn's efforts to control the clutter and get everything put back when they were done playing. She was frustrated, and so was I. We just couldn't get the boys and Lillian to commit to cleaning after they played.

After threatening to take away the toys in the playroom if they weren't cleaned up appropriately, I was at the end of my rope. Good thing Camryn knows how to tie knots. She came up with a brilliant solution, all by her 9 year-old self.

Her answer?

Centers.

Just like the boys and Lillian have at school.

She's a frickin' genius!

Now in our playroom we have a car center, a kitchen (home living) center, a baby center, a train center, etc. Somehow this has made it easier for the kids to clean things up and put things back when they're done. Now they know where things go, and they happily play together. There is no screaming at clean-up time.

And the playroom is clean.

My daughter deserves a medal.