Price Check in Aisle 3

Why did I pick "Aisle 3"? I don't know. Just go with it.

So, I devoured all the comments yesterday about Costco. And, keep 'em coming. I'm still on the fence about it. On the one hand, I see the point about Costco treating their employees better than Sam's. And, Costco is closer. And, it IS more glamorous, after all. I don't want to be in the loser group.

But on the other hand, Sam's has the cheeseballs. And the pee-smell-eliminator.
Now, I will tell you one thing about the wine prices of both stores: not a big deciding factor for me. I wish I drank more than I really do, because it would probably make me a much mellower mommy, but in truth I would take a diet Coke any day of the week over a glass of wine. I probably buy 2 bottles of wine a year, and half of the bottle I will use for cooking and the other half of bottle I will serve to guests.

But, do they have discount prices on chewing tobacco? Don't even make me start going off about what a nasty habit it is, but if Texan Papa is going to buy that shit I might as well save some money on it.

So today I went to Tom Thumb grocery store, which is an affiliate of Safeway (if you have that near you). Normally, Tom Thumb is just about the most expensive grocery store in town. But, I am not willing to buy something that is overpriced just because I need it. I will go without until it goes on sale. Except chocolate. No explanation necessary there. Anyhoo, I would like to share with you a run-down of some prices I paid for groceries there. Almost all of these are the sale prices, not the regular prices, but that is what I would compare to the Warehouse Store prices anyway because I would never pay non-sale prices anytime. I shopped on the big sale day, early in the morning when stocks were still plentiful. I didn't use any coupons except the ones that were printed in the ad flyer, which I picked up as I walked in the door.

Broccoli Crowns: $0.88/lb
Red seedless grapes: $1.99/lb
1 lb baby carrots: $1.00
milk: $1.99/gallon
1 lb. butter: $1.99
boneless, skinless chicken breast: $1.99/lb
Hershey's chocolate Syrup, 24oz: $2.00
Top Round Roast: $2.29/lb
Minute Maid frozen OJ concentrate (makes 46 oz): $2.00
Lays Chips(10.5 oz): $2.49
Doritos (14 oz): $1.88
Rice Krispie Treats (8 ct.): $0.99
1 doz large eggs: $1.29
diet Coke, 24 pack: $5.99
Safeway bottled water, 24-pack (500mL bottles): $3.49
Smithfield Bacon, 1 lb: $2.50
Mott's Natural Applesauce, 46oz: $2.59

So, I think I got some good prices, and this shopping trip is not unusual for me. I would NEVER pay more than $2.75 per pound for boneless skinless chicken breasts anyway, so going to a Warehouse store to get a 6- or 8-pound bag for the same unit price really doesn't motivate me.

The one thing that keeps drawing me back into Sams are the few items that I do regularly purchase there that are a steal (for example, getting a 16-oz bottle of REAL vanilla for $6.75. Seriously, this is an amazingly cheap price. Also, a huge bottle of Hidden Valley Ranch powder that I can use to make endless bottles of Ranch dressing for my kids' carrots. Also, the Mrs. Butterworth's pancake syrup. And 2-lb box of Club Crackers for $3.47.) Also, I'm not kidding, that pee-smell-eliminator stuff is great and I've never found another product like it. And the cheese balls are addictive.

I've thought about it... is $50 a year really THAT big of a deal to spend in order to get savings on a few items? I can get the items I really WANT, buy the few items that ARE a good deal, and get a competitive price on the items that I would normally purchase at the grocery store anyway. But, the thing is, once I buy those bulk items, I don't need to go back to Sam's for a long time. So, if I bought those items repeatedly, the savings would be obvious. But if I only buy them once every 6 months, the savings seem kinda puny.

Okay, this post is way too long already. I must end the Costco Vs. Sams drama now. But, please, more opinions. I love the opinions.

To Costco or Not To Costco?

I have been a member of Sam's Club since forever. I think probably since they opened. Not by choice, mind you, but because my parents had a membership and have always just put me on their family plan and given me a card. Over the years, I've used it sometimes but not really a ton. I LOVE the gigantic tub of cheeseballs for $5.47.

Plus, I absolutely swear by Odo-Ban: the best product I've ever found to remove the nasty urine smell from underpants and sheets.

However, last month my parents decided that they just didn't need to shop in bulk like they used to. Also, seeing as they are now living on a fixed income, they are deciding to cut corners and while they have more cable channels than all my siblings combined, they don't feel like $45 a year is a smart investment for a membership to MEGA DISCOUNT SAVINGS.

Since we've moved to Texas, I have been exposed to Costco. Well, truthfully, I have been exposed to the mystique that is Costco. I've never crossed its threshhold, but I've been told glorious stories of the delicious pizza, and all the plentiful bulk organic products, yada yada yada. But now that I would actually have to shell out the cash for my own membership to MEGA DISCOUNT SAVINGS, I can't figure out if it's really worth it or not. And, if it is worth it, should I choose Sam's or Costco? So, loyal readers, I need your help in deciding. Here are some of my thoughts and quandries:

1. I don't buy organic stuff. Unless it's cheaper than the pesticide-filled stuff. Call me crazy, I like how I turned out even though my mom fed me pesticide-covered grapes. So, the organic leverage really wouldn't play for me.
2. I am NOT a coupon clipper but I am certainly a generic-brand buyer. I do watch unit prices. I have long believed that Sam's was cheaper on only a very few name-brand items when buying them in bulk. Many items are the exact same unit price as the grocery store, and some are even MORE! Plus I don't need to buy a box of cereal the size of a tank.
3. Does Sam's or Costco really offer anything that is better, that I can't find in the regular grocery store? I've tried Sam's Diapers and they sucked. Same vote for their kitchen trash bags. BUT I did use their baby formula. Baby Sally really never complained.

I suspect that some people like to shop at Costco for the glamour of it. I, too, have fallen victim to the attraction of the concrete floors, the pallets piled up to the ceiling, the sound of the forklift backing up... But really, if I am buying a giant box of 36 packages of fruit snacks for $5.75 at Costco, or I can buy 3 boxes of 12 packages of the same fruit snacks at Wal-mart for $2 each (therefore only saving myself 25 cents, which I actually have to pay 50 bucks in order to get in the door), is that really smart shopping?

What do you think?

Thank God this is the heaviest thing on my mind today. I can't take any more drama.

I Guess I Don't Totally Suck

It never fails to amaze me when someone writes a comment and tells me that they like my blog. Not that I'm such a masochist that I think I'm not worthy of a compliment. Rather, I just think of all the random thoughts bouncing around my gray matter, then I picture them slipping out of my ears and trailing down my arms, right through my fingertips, and then PRESTO! There they are on the screen. Not one iota more sensible, but simply available for viewing by the general public.

Sometimes I'm typing, and I think... oh my good gracious, did I just really type that? I better hit the backspace....

And SO often I am typing, then typing some more, then I continue typing, and I see that little scroll bar on the left side of the compose box getting shorter and smaller and I wonder, whoa, how much have I really typed? And then I go back and delete about 60% of it because I noticed that I'm rambling and I have clearly made my point about 4 paragraphs back, therefore negating the necessity of further boring clarification about why I thought I had bedbugs (for example).

So, when I received an award from Heather today, I was so happy!
She writes, "I really like the no bullshit, tell it like it is parenting, advice, and overall words of wisdom" Aww, thanks! Every time I see that I've been able to drain my thoughts onto the page without offending someone or driving them away, I pump my fist into the air and shout a little "BOO YAH!"Actually, I shouldn't care how many people subscribe or follow me or whatever. But, as it turns out, Heather and a few more of you don't think I suck. Or at least you're not telling me. Or maybe you don't haven't figured out how to unfollow me, and please don't expect me to help you out on that one.

Okay, so, back to the award (the scroll bar is getting smaller so I'll try to wrap this up soon), here are the rules:

Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award, and his or her blog link. Pass the award to other blogs that you’ve newly discovered. Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

Really, I'm a creature of habit and I don't venture out of my little bloggy circle very often. Sometimes I do on SITS, sometimes I do on Entrecard, but in order to keep my Google Reader less piled up than my bill box, I don't stray too far from home.

BUT, here are a few of my new interests. Please check them out and leave a few comments.
Jeff and Me + Three - But really it's +Four very soon!
abdpbt - I have no idea what those letters are for. Let me know if you figure it out.
Burbmom - Awesome resource for families in the DFW area. Lots to learn and laugh at.
The Meanest Mom - If you're not already reading this, I betcha you subscribe.

And, if you're not subcribing to me yet, just go ahead and do it! You know you want to.

"Sacrifice"

It seems like fate (destiny? God?) has led me lately to a lot of places where I've read things about women, especially moms, and their dreams and goals.

I was reading someone's personal bio and it said this:

I like to think of myself as a strong woman, which means I didn't sacrifice my education or any of my goals, and I still have a family and a career.

What does that mean? It is hard for me to remain unbiased when I read that, considering I chose to stay home with my kids and put off my career for the time being. But does that mean I'm weak? Funny, all this time I actually thought *I* was strong because I made a sacrifice of myself and my own wishes so that the family could benefit. The same could be said about me as I have agreed to move from place to place (6 different homes - in 5 different cities - in the last 11 years) so that my husband could pursue his dreams and make a better life for us.

It is a delicate balance, no? Deciding what is an acceptable amount of sacrifice. Because, let's face it, our partners do their fair share of sacrificing too. But, if you have a good solid marriage, your spouse probably doesn't keep a list of every time they've made a sacrifice for your benefit, nor do they rub your nose in it when they have to give up some little part of themselves in order to let you shine.

I guess that's the only thing that keeps me from feeling like a martyr every single day: believing that my acts of unselfishness are not completely unreciprocated. Because if you've ever had the argument with your mate that goes, "Well I did this for you!" "Well *I* did that for YOU!!" "Well I never got a thank you!!" "Well I didn't know you needed one!!!" then you know not to go down that road again.

The life of a mom (Stay-at-home or Working, it doesn't matter) is a rough job... living the life of a person who does for everyone else out of love. The true desire should be to do all these acts out of love - turning the socks right side out, making the chocolate milk, getting up in the middle of the night when it's your husband's turn, searching for lost keys and mates to shoes and library cards. But am I the only one who gets exhausted if no one ever says "Thank you Mama" or "Honey that was really great" or "I need you"? I'd love to be that person who is willing to sacrifice her personal time for no benefit other than seeing my family happy. In reality, though, I need my ego stroked occasionally.

One of my very favorite bloggers, the Domestiquette, recently wrote this:

For nine years I’ve pushed down my every ambition for the sake of raising my children full-time. It’s a sacrifice but it’s also a very handy excuse. There’s no real time to try anything else, so no opportunity to fail. I’m a domestic failure, for sure, but you know – I’m raising children! – so how could I possibly have time to keep the house clean all the time?

Do I have any ambition left to do anything? Do I want what I wanted nine years ago, or something completely different? Or do I want to make a life of gardening and cooking and keeping the laundry totally caught up all the time and posting dumb things about it here?

Which brings me back to that nagging question in the back of my mind that's been there for almost 10 years, when I gave birth to Peppermint Patty: Is this it? Is there more to life than this? Or am I missing the excitement right now, searching for something bigger that isn't really there? By being a stay-at-home mom, what am I sacrificing? Because if I weren't a SAHM, would I be out there flying around the world in a hot air balloon, or raising millions of dollars for breast cancer research, or competing in a triathalon? Really? Is what I'm missing really THAT much better than being a mom?

And - this is the big question - does this mean I've given up on my goals? What were my goals anyway? Have I lowered my standards? Is that the definition of "being realistic"?

I'm not saying it is, and I'm not saying it isn't. I'm saying I don't know, and that's so frustrating.

Summer Quicksand

It's happening. The drowning that happens this time every summer. Why? I can't put my finger on it.

Maybe it's because I'm 5 months pregnant. Maybe it's the heat. Definitely it's the constant relentless presence of small people who need repeated care and feeding.

But, whatever the reason, summer is dragging. like. sap. flowing. out. of. a. tree.

The kids are watching WAY over their quota of television time. We are eating out WAY too often. Laundry piles are WAY too high. All my bright ideas about things to do this summer to keep me busy are suddenly... too hard. Or too boring. Or else it's just plain impossible to motivate myself to drag a baby and 3 children and my expanding self out into the 100+ degree heat and humidity to go ANYWHERE.

And summer day camp! My life preserver! "Mom, it's just boring. Do I have to go back?" YES BY GOD YOU SURELY DO AND DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT NOT ENJOYING YOURSELF.

Every single day is a countdown clock to bedtime. How many more hours must I endure of listening to the children have short tempers with each other? How many more hours must they endure my short temper with them? Can I put them to bed early tonight? Yes, I know it's still sunny outside but don't even THINK about getting out from under those covers.

Why am I surprised? It's this same way every year.

And, here's my favorite BACK TO SCHOOL commercial:

Texan Mama: the Non-BlogHer

Okay, let me premise all I'm about to say with, if you went to BlogHer '09, I'm jealous. I really considered going, but because I had a severe brain fart and decided to take my 4 children on a cross country torture session trip, I had used up all our family funds that had been earmarked for personal travel. I'm smart like that.

But, even if I had gone to BlogHer'09, I don't think I would have fit in. I mean, first of all, I couldn't care less about increasing my Google page rank, or monetizing my blog, or getting a better Technorati number. I'm happy with my 2-column page layout and I have NO idea how feedburner works (but someone set it up for me a long time ago, so if it ever quits working I'll never get it back on track.) If I had been at BlogHer, it would have been like the scene from Legally Blonde, where Elle shows up to the "costume party" in her pink bunny suit, only it wasn't actually a costume party.

I'd love to know what BlogHer is all about. I have a feeling it's about learning how to make the jump from hobby-blogger to serious-blogger, and I don't think I want to make that jump. I like being able to write what I want the way I want to, without worry if I'll lose subscribers. I really appreciate the group of readers I have gathered in the past year, and I'm happy to consider those people closer to me than some of the IRL friends I've made in the past year. I guess I just feel like, part of the reason I got into blogging was because it was free, and it didn't require any special skills that I didn't already have. But once I start paying hundreds of dollars to attend a conference and begin taking notes on a legal pad about html code, it won't be long before I quit enjoying my blog and start feeling like it's an obligation.

At this point, I probably won't quit blogging anytime soon. But, if I did, the only regret I would have would be that I couldn't keep talking to all the awesome online friends I've made. I don't think I'd feel like I would be letting people down, or like I'd be giving up on something I'd invested SO much time into. Blogging is not a business venture, at least not for me. Heck, it's not even an extension of the career I wish I had (I am a high school math teacher by trade, and so long to get back to it, but that's for another post.)

I guess I kinda look at it like this: If I wanted to be the next Heather Armstrong (Dooce, for all who don't know her name), what would I have to do? How much time would I have to invest? And, would it even be possible? Hasn't that goal already been met by someone? I mean, once you've appeared on Oprah, can anyone really ever top that?

I would say that I am a big-picture type of gal. I like to consider, "Where am I going with this?" So, I've asked myself, "Where do I see myself with blogging in 3 months? 6 months? A year? 2 years? etc." I have tried to figure out if I would really reap any benefits from the endless hours spent building my blog. Would the amount of time invested on the computer end up being worth more than the time I would lose with my family. Realistically, I enjoy what I write but I think I sound a lot like dozens of other mommy-bloggers out there. What would I have to do in order to separate myself from everyone else?

And, I guess that's where the division happens: Blogging is the current trend of communication. Anyone who doesn't know what a blog is, probably will within the next few years. So it's not hard to understand why someone would want to be a serious blogger: it's popular, it's easy to learn and do, and it's accessible to everyone. And all you have to do is have some thoughts, and an ability to put those thoughts into words with a bit of style and wit. But the women (and men) who become really successful bloggers are the ones whose websites are more than a hobby. And I guess, to a certain degree, I admire them for being able to do what I don't have the energy or drive to do.

But for now, I'll just be happy still being able to blommit my thoughts all over you. Thanks for reading, and wearing protective eyewear. And, for the record, if I ever got the chance to go to BlogHer without emptying my savings account, I'd probably go for it. I would just have to live with being the big nerd in the corner who knows everyone's name but no one would know mine. So, no big leap from real life there.

Twitter for Dummies? Meet the Dummy.

I would consider myself to be an "intermediate" when it comes to technology and the internet. I know how to work with my computer pretty well. Back in the days when I had a desktop, I even installed extra memory into the "innards" of my computer all by myself. THAT was scary.

I blog. I tweet. I even facebook. But for the life of me, I can't figure out the fascination with facebook. I'll admit, I love to hook up with old friends I haven't seen in a while. But, really, the superpoke? Do I really need to be Superpoked? And I could give a rat's patootie what my secret superpower is. And, NO I don't want to join any more causes, thankyouverymuch.

Anyway, I digress...

I love twitter. Well, I kinda like twitter. If twitter were my boyfriend, I'd probably swoon when he walked by, since he's so popular, but I'd wonder exactly what he's thinking all the time.

See, I get how to tweet. I get that I basically type in what I'm doing at any given point in time:

I'm going to buy peanut butter. Crunchy Jif. MMMMMM
or
Am I the only one who crosses her legs when I'm about to sneeze?
or
I own an MP3 player for the sole reason of drowning out my childrens whining voices.

whatever.

But, what is RT? And why would I use it? And when? And what about all the # business? Did I miss Twitter 101 somewhere??? And, how do people download all those fun backgrounds onto their twitter homepage?

A few people have tried to explain to me what it is for, but their answers came on Twitter. So, they only had 140 characters to leave an answer. Kinda left me hanging. You get the idea...

Making Kids Happy

There is nothing better than seeing a child smile, especially when it's my own child. We don't have the means to spoil our kids with lots of purchases, but I love to find ways to make their day brighter, even if it's only for a minute. Things like:

• Having them answer the phone
• Giving them the beater to lick
• Letting them sign the credit card slip at Walmart

• Asking them to take a few pictures with the digital camera
• Saying, "I didn't know you could do that! When did you get so smart?"
• Showing them a coin on the ground that they can pick up

It's not much, but it's the little things!

My Breast Friend

We all have a few items in our closets that get neglected. Maybe it's the little dress that was one size too small, but too cute and too much of an incredible bargain to pass up. Maybe it's that funky jacket that caught your eye in the shop window, but now you're too afraid to actually wear it out in public. Whatever it is, it hangs there in your lonely closet, waiting to be picked for it's big day out on the town. Alas, that day never comes.

For me, it's my bras. Now, don't start to think I've gone all bohemian on you. No, no. With my prego puppies, I need all the support I can get. The problem is, I have this one favorite bra. I know, I shouldn't play favorites and I should give all my bras equal love and equal time. But this one particular bra is so comfortable. And, it has the perfect cut so that I can wear it with just about every kind of blouse or dress. And, it has convertible straps so I can even wear it with a halter top.

I am ashamed to say... this bra is probably at least 5 years old. That's the other thing about my breast friend: she is so loyal. She's starting to get pretty stretched out, and she's starting to show some wear, but her elastic is still pretty good.

And now, she's ruined me for all other bras. Every time I try to find a replacement, or at least a back-up so she can have a day off, no other bra ever measures up. No matter how much I'm willing to spend, every other bra will either accentuate my back fat, or give me the boobie muffin top, or looks like a bullet-proof vest.

So, as long as she is willing to have me, I guess I'll always keep her close to my heart. (ba dum bum)

Vanilla Mommy

My latest tweet on Twitter went like this:

I'm so tired of feeling like I suck at everything. Redid the grout in my shower today.
Looks like my 6-year-old did it.

I have kinda been caught in this merry-go-round lately of trying to figure out if there's anything I'm good at. Anything at all. And I keep coming up empty. I read so many friends' blogs and I am truly envious of their talents. This one is a great writer. This one is a gourmet cook. This one is funny and witty. This one can sing. This one runs marathons. This one is spunk personified. This one can quilt and crochet (or is it knit?). And this one can take a piece of furniture from a junk pile and turn it into shabby chic.

Me? I can blog. And, considering the millions of people who host a blog, I don't really consider this a talent. It's certainly not that I'm fishing for a compliment. More honestly, I just am having a really hard time finding any talents that are uniquely my own. I feel like every day that I continue to play house with my husband and 4 (almost 5) kids, I become less and less unique. My cooking skills suck. I can sew, but I never do because I never have any time. My writing skills are adequate but nothing special. Even my cleaning skills are awful. I swear, the one job I actually am responsible for in this house and I can't do it to a satisfactory level.

I want to be special at something. Not because I have to have people say "Oh, you're so good at..." whatever. But rather, I guess I kinda feel like without anything special about myself, I am so vanilla. So boring. So just-another-unremarkable-SAHM.

Yes, I know my job is important to my family. Yes, I know no one could do my job like me. I am remarkable to them. I am special to them. But really, all mothers are special to their own family. And, like that line goes in The Incredibles, "When everyone's special, then no one is."

So I guess my choices are these: 1) Get comfortable with being vanilla, or 2) Become remarkable at something. #2 seems like a daunting task, considering I can't even think of anything I would have time enough for to become good at, so.... looks like I'm vanilla.

And, I would love to develop my talents and myself a little bit more, but where am I supposed to find the time? I know, you MAKE the time. You PRIORITIZE. But really, right now my own priorities are kinda on the back burner. I have substituted my own priorities with Cub Scouts, Girl Scouts, Church Groups, and PTL. I dream of taking a class to learn how to cook or practicing my photography skills or even just working on a scrapbook. But really? With a husband who works every weekend? And with a toddler and almost a newborn and 3 older kids?

I guess I'm on this teeter-totter between wanting to be an exciting me, and accepting that the exciting me will have to wait until later.

I'm Totally Lost

Okay, I know I am usually a little behind on contemporary trends. I never got an asymmetrical haircut, and I probably wore my acid-wash jeans a few season past when they'd gone out of style.

Not much has changed for me, except that now I'm behind on all TV shows. But, recently, I decided to see what all the hoopla was about with LOST. Yes, I know, I'm only about 4 seasons behind the rest of the world. And, can I say? I AM HOOKED!


I love that show! I've been watching past episodes from Netflix. Last night I just finished season 1. I am on the edge of my seat! What is inside the hatch? Is John Lock going to ever tell the survivors about his former paralysis? What is that black smoke stuff? What's up with those numbers - 4,8,15,16,23,42? Are they really cursed? What happened to Danielle's baby Alex? What's going to happen to Walt on that bad fisherman's boat? What about Sawyer - after being shot, is he dead or alive? And what happened to Jin when the raft exploded?

I may resort to biting my nails again. I can't wait until the next shipment of DVD's arrives in my mailbox!

And, if you know what's going to happen DON'T SPOIL IT FOR ME!!!!

Flashback Friday: Did You See Me Today?

Have you ever written a post that just sticks with you? This post that I'm reprinting for Flashback Friday - hosted by Scary Mommy - is one of my favorites.

I re-read it and I can still perfectly picture that day in my head. Hope you enjoy it!

Did you see me today?

I went to Kroger's today with my 4 kids. This is not such an unusual event. I was just wondering if you saw me there...

Were you the twenty-something kid behind the counter serving the Chinese food? You looked even more tired than me. I was the one holding the sleeping baby in my arms while one child kept asking me if he could ride in the cart. Oh and yes he is 7. The older girl felt very droopy and wasn't hungry at all, except for something we couldn't eat right away like an apple or grapes. You may have heard me sigh at her and just say, "Find somthing else, something EASIER!" Did you see my younger son? He's the one who kept saying, "No, I want popcorn chicken. No, wait, a chicken leg. No, a corn dog. No, a corn dog AND a chicken leg. No, popcorn chicken and one chicken leg." You showed me that there weren't any more popcorn chicken and no, you wouldn't be making any more. So he had to start all over again. "One chicken leg. No, two chicken legs. No....." You might have noticed that I tried to get out my money to pay you for the food I had ordered, which caused my baby to wake up. Sorry for the sour look on my face when you told me, "No our cash register isn't working."

Were you the fancy dressed-up lady in a beautiful black sparkly dress with cute peep-toe heeled sandals? I wondered where you came from, or where you might be going. It might have looked like I was staring at you but really I was just envying you. I was the lady with a shirt that had a couple of stains on it. I had my hair in a clip but the sides were falling down. I was probably pretty sweaty since it's over 100 degrees here today. You looked so nice that I wondered when was the last time I dressed up for anything? Even going to church, I throw on a dress and run a comb through my tangled wavy hair, then move on to dressing kids, feeding the baby, getting my tithe envelope, etc etc. Anyway, I noticed how you lingered at the Special K, deciding if you wanted it plain or with berries. You took your time and checked prices. I got lost in the moment, trying to remember a time when I went to the store and did anything other than simply grab the closest thing to arm-level. Or anything generic. Or anything with a big red CLEARANCE tag.

Were you the older gentleman at the meat counter who helped me find the pork tenderloin that's on sale? I was the woman pushing the cart with the very happy, but very loud baby in the basket. She kept yelling "AAAHHHHH" right into my face. My two sons were the ones who were doing the spin-around karate kicks. Then, when I told them to settle down, my daughter decided to give the younger boy a piggy-back ride. Well, you didn't seem to mind anyway. So when I asked where the tenderloin was, and I pointed to it in the ad, you seemed very amused and told me, "Well it's right here in front of you here, ma'am." I hope I didn't look too stupid to you because I sure felt it.

Could you have been the grocery checker, who was very polite to me? I asked you if the "Mix and Match" items could be items from various price categories and you were so nice to call someone named KayKay to check. I hope I didn't look too angry or disappointed when you told me no, they all had to be from one price category and I'd have to buy 10 of them. Sorry I made you take all those items out of my cart. It would have been a good deal. And I hope I didn't come across too brusk or rude when I returned to your line after checking at customer service, only to find out that the items CAN be from different price categories. I was praying you had not put my items back on the shelf, but.... I hope I didn't make you feel too uncomfortable when I began to cry a little bit after finding out that the items had been put back. See, I didn't even remember which items I had picked up. After composing myself, though, I was able to get everything together and you checked me out again. You were SO polite. I'm glad I held my temper because if I hadn't I would have gone all postal on your ass and you really wouldn't have deserved it. Then as I left, you and the bagger-girl both told me to have a nice day and I'm sure you meant it but I just kinda mumbled "yeah" and walked on. Sorry about that.

Were you the guy at the customer service counter who helped me with my "mix and match" question? You were really helpful. Hope I didn't look at you too exasperated. And, I'm so sorry that my kids were messing with the lottery machine. Please don't report me to Child Protective Services for getting their attention by grabbing them on the ear and pulling them in the direction of our shopping cart. You probably heard them howling but as you may have noticed I didn't let up. Instead, I just told them that they should've come the first two times I called their names. I don't know if you're the only person who saw me or not.

And I don't know for sure, but I really think you might have been the lady in the parking lot. I saw you coming up the row carrying your eco-friendly reusable grocery bags. You looked about my mom's age but you were dressed really nice. I sure liked your smile. I quickly forgot about it, though, as I put my kids in the car and buckled the baby in securely. I continued to give the kids a guilt trip about their behavior in the grocery store. I told them how embarassed I was, and how did they think that felt? Then I caught sight of you through the open back door of my van. You asked me, "Honey, can I take your empty cart for you?" I answered "Sure, go ahead. Thanks a lot." And you said, "You look like you could use a hand." You had such a warm smile and a knowing look in your eye. I could tell you weren't judging me or mentally scolding me. You were thinking, yeah, I've been there.

I don't know if I saw you today or not, since everything in the blog world is so anonymous. But would you have known me if you saw me? Maybe. I hope that the reality of who I am is not as harsh as my perception of who I am. But I fear that I am exactly what people see. That the inside me is too close to the outside me. I'd like to believe I have some inner softness, some peace at the core of my being. I think my peace has been drained out of me like a flower pot with a hole at the bottom. I'm praying for peace. Patience. Love. Tolerance. And forgiveness.

(originally posted July 25, 2008)

My Grandpa

Don't worry about getting your Kleenex for this post. Because while I am telling you about my Grandpa, I will probably not describe him as "loving" or "caring" or even "nice".

No, it's not riddled with stories about abuse or neglect or hateful words, it is simply the recollections of a young girl with fragile emotions, and an old man in declining health with stubborn German roots.

My Grandpa was an old man by the time I was born. I guess by today's standards he wouldn't have been that old (57 years old) but the adage "You are as old as you feel" really applied to him. He smoked a couple of packs of cigarettes every day for his whole life. Marlboro Reds.

When I was a kid, my grandparents had already retired to a little house out in the country, about 2 hours south of St. Louis. Going to their house to visit them was about as fun as falling into a cactus bush. The most exciting thing to do at their house was climb on top of the propane tank. My older brother used to love telling me that it was the septic tank and if I wasn't careful, I'd tip it over and all the contents of everyone's bowels would spill out onto me. Good times. They lived far enough away from St. Louis that any TV reception was fuzzy, at best, and of course these were the days before cable or satellite. There were no Gameboys, no board games to play, and Old Maid could only hold my attention for so long.

I would be so bored on every trip to see them. And, do you know what my Grandpa would say to me? "Go on, git. Let the adults talk." So nice. When I'd try to play the organ, doing my very best to perform the latest song I learned on piano, he'd say, "With the fingers, Gretchen. With the fingers." (meaning, it sounded like I was using my feet to play). Here's the icing on the cake: He had a cute little nickname for me. No, it wasn't Princess or Sweetie Pie. It was Monster. Yes, Monster. Every time he saw me it was "Well, here's the Monster."

Still, to this day, I tell my mom that I don't believe he loved me. My mom thinks I'm silly and says, "You have to understand, he was old and sick." Maybe so. But maybe he was just raised in a different time. He was raised to believe that children were to be seen and not heard (another phrase commonly used in their house). Children were to be obedient and if they weren't, they were MADE to be obedient. My grandmother, his wife, on the other hand was tender and sweet and never once raised her voice to me ever. She loved me until the day she died. When I came to their house and SHE saw me, she got this look on her face like, "At last! I get to see you! Come here quick!!!"

I often wonder how my Grandma could have stayed married to my Grandpa all those 50+ years. Well, I guess divorce wasn't really a popular solution back then. But I guess if nothing else, it teaches me that every relationship is unique and can't be judged from the outside. I don't know what the glue was that kept them together, but I do know that my Grandma loved my Grandpa very much. To deserve her love, he must have had something good inside of him. I wish I knew what it was.

My Grandpa died when I was 17. I remember feeling kinda like, "So what?" I know that is harsh and horrible. But this man was not close to me. He was not even kind to me. I didn't have a single good memory of him. I remember feeling sad because I wanted to mourn him. I wanted to feel a loss for him. But truthfully? What was I losing? And even now as an adult with more mature thoughts and feelings, I still can't say that I miss him. I probably have some deep-seated resentment for him. All those years we came to visit him, he never wanted anything to do with me. The only thing he ever wanted me to do was leave him alone or fetch his cigarettes.

And, the very scary part about it now: I see my own dad becoming his father. I see my dad in declining health and becoming the man who wants to be left alone, not bothered, with no chaos or kids running around. I am really hoping and praying that he does not turn into my Grandpa. I want my children to have good memories of my father, ones that don't leave them with the kind of memories I have.

This post is part of MamaKat's weekly Writing Workshop. C'Mon, join in! It's Fun!

Insane in the Membrane

My kids are so busy this summer, and I am so bored. I am constantly looking for something to do besides watch TV or play on the computer.

HA HA HA Did you actually believe me?

My kids are NOT busy this summer. Have you seen the price of camp lately? TIMES THREE? Or joining a sports team - TIMES THREE? Or taking instrument lessons - TIMES THREE? Are you seeing my point here? Yeah, take my advice: if you are going to have lots of kids, space them out better than we did. So, the natural result of my poor planning 7 years ago is that now we are doing as many free activities as we can. Times three.

My 3 older kids have TONS of time on their hands and for some reason I seem to be the Fountain of Lost Ideas which my kids look to for "something to dooooooooo". They look to me that I might drop some golden nugget of wisdom in their laps for the best activity they've ever done in their whole lives. My response is, "Don't call me Merlin. I've got no magic tricks up my sleeves. Heck, I don't even have any sleeves. Do you KNOW how hot it is in Texas in the summer?"

If I have to hear "I'm bored. What can I do?" one more time, I am going to commit myself. At least maybe I can have a quiet, padded room.

I have two very wise friends who handle the "I'm Boreds" with two different solutions:
1) My friend, E, tells her son that if he says he's bored, even the very first time, he gets to take a nap.
2) My friend, J, has her children each compile a list of no less than 30 activities so that when they get "bored" they have to go to the list and pick an activity that they may have forgotten how fun it is... like Playdoh or checkers or washing rocks or watering the flowers, etc.

So, what have I decided to do? Force my children to learn. They WILL BE SMARTER BY SUMMER'S END, DAMNIT. Just kidding. No seriously, though, I wanted my kids to stay fresh with their academics over the summer. For reasons that probably require medication, I am nervous that my kids are in a flow of learning and that taking 3 months off will cause them to lose momentum. I know, I need to relax - after all, I took every summer off from school for my whole life and I ended up a college graduate. And I've got the alcohol tolerance to prove it.

Okay, back to real learning. I was going to go to my local homeschooling store to lay down some serious cash for lots of lurnin stuff, but I suddenly realized, HELLO? I'VE GOT THE INTERWEBZ!!! So, I decided to help myself to the wonderful resources out there and get my kids a cure for the "I'm Boreds". If you'd like to get a prescription for yoursef, here are some pretty good websites I found for keeping my children's minds and hands occupied, in case you're looking for some way to keep yourself from eating your young:

Math: this site and this site and this one for math games
Reading Comprehension: here and here
Spelling: this site and this one too
Handwriting: go here or here or here
These sites have some of everything: abcteach and Super Teacher Worksheets and TLS Books and MyTestBook.com (you have to register, but it's free).

And, there are SO SO SO SO many wonderful websites out there with just as much if not more information than the few I've linked here. Some websites will charge you a small fee for a yearly membership (like $20/year), giving you access to loads more information and downloads, which is totally worth it if you're going to be doing some home-educating long term. Me? I need other adults to love my children September through May so that I'm not drained of all my love by October.

So, how many days 'till school starts again???

The Fun Part of Being a Mom

Okay, okay. So, we're all going to fess up right now and admit that some days, no MANY days, it feels more like a job raising kids than it does a joy and a privilege.

Hello? Anyone out there? Am I the only one who thinks that?

If you have more than a couple of kids, you may not like what I'm about to say: the best cure for that feeling was to have another baby.

OH DEAR LORD SHE'S TOTALLY LOST IT.

No, seriously, when I had Peppermint Patty, Charlie Brown, and Linus in a span of 37 months, then endured the next 4 years with 3 children all clumped together in age, I would dream of running away from home. For all of 2002 and 2003, we lived in an area with NO family and NO reliable babysitters (it's tough to find someone with the unique set of skills who can responsibly handle 3 very small children and also is willing to do so). The only relief was sending PP to preschool in the fall of 2003, for 2 hours twice a week. So THAT was nice, but I was still perennially pooped. Every day was a balance of trying to finish all the housework and trying to keep the children reasonably clean. This Jack (or Jane) of all trades was certainly the master of none.

But, as you may have heard and may agree with me, once they start going to school the years just fly by. Once Peppermint Patty went on to preschool, then day school, Charlie Brown was right behind her one year behind. And Linus was two years behind him. I started to get the urge for another cute chubby baby. And, for so many wrong reasons that I can't even count, I wanted a chance to redeem myself as a parent. Like, for all the times I screwed up while raising my older 3 kids, I wanted another chance.

When Baby Sally came along, I was a more mature mom with TONS more perspective. Dishes not done in the sink? They can wait. Kids in front of the T.V. all day? Well, we'll do better tomorrow. Milk-drained boob hanging out of bathrobe when mailman comes to the door? Ah, just another way to say, "Hi! Happy to know ya!"

I was finally able to understand what everyone had always been talking about when they said how much they loved being a mom. I started to cuddle and snuggle my baby all the time. When I heard her wake up from a nap, I was excited to see her instead of feeling like someone was blowing the whistle on my free time. When my little munchkin cried, I didn't freak out and ask myself, "Is she sick? Is she hurt? Is she hungry? Did I do something wrong? HOW CAN I FIGURE THIS MYSTERY-WRAPPED-IN-A-DIAPER OUT???" Basically, I just allowed the baby to be herself and stopped trying to figure out how to do everything right.

I guess the real secret, which was no secret at all, was that I quit trying to be perfect. Not that I ever expected to be perfect, but I always kinda hoped that I'd try real hard and perfection would just be the obvious side-effect.

And now, I am loving the fun so much that we're going for baby #5. And it's going to be another GIRL. I'm almost decided on a name, but what should her pseudonym be here? Lucy? I thought about that, but I'm not sure I want the personality of that Peanuts character associated with any of my kids... you know, she was kinda a bitch and all. Or Marci? Does anyone even remember her? (She was the one with glasses that always called Peppermint Patty "sir"). I could go with The Little Red Haired Girl (Charlie Brown's true love) but I'm pretty sure she won't have red hair.

Any thoughts?

What a Difference a Few Days Makes

Just so y'all know, I haven't jumped off a cliff or anything yet. I don't have my shit together yet, but I'm getting there.

So, to recap, I left on June 7 with my 4 kids. I was by myself with them until we got home to Texas on June 30. My husband stayed home because he had to work and couldn't take off, since he is still trying to repay the time he had to take off last summer (a whole month) when he was suffering with Lyme Disease.

We got home the 30th. Texan Papa was off on July 1st, then back to work every day until he left for Boy Scout Camp with our other son, Charlie Brown, on July 5th.

I'm stating the obvious here, but Linus had not seen too much of his dad for a full month. Plus, his mom was a bit fried from being the only caretaker.

Now, looking back over the events of earlier this week, I am wondering what the cause of all the chaos could possibly have been?

• Linus having no male role-model for a full month
• Linus not being on a schedule
• Linus just plain missing his dad or feeling the imbalance of our "normal" life, and not knowing how to deal with it he just acted out
• Linus looking for some extra attention
• Me being unable to have perspective about Linus' behavior because of too much "kid-time" and not enough "me-time"
• Me suffering from hormonal changes because of the pregnancy
• Me suffering because, simply, I am the one who needs counseling

My guess? A combination of one or more or maybe ALL of those things. But, I can tell you, my Linus is a completely different guy now. What is changing?

• Dad is back home. Life is back to normal.
• I am trying more of a schedule and being even MORE strict about sugar intake.
• I am trying to give Linus a little more one-on-one time
• I am also looking at the possibility that Linus is not the only one having an issue here. Could his siblings try to be less sensitive to his efforts in gaining their attention? Could they be more flexible. Not that it's THEIR fault, but it also couldn't always be Linus' fault either.

I've heard Linus apologizing to his sister and brother for things he's done wrong (without prompting from me). I see him play gently with the baby. I hear him say loving things to me. I feel him not losing his temper when I have to give him a punishment. No, he's not perfect. But, for example, last night after I'd put him to bed, I checked on him and found him crouched in the corner next to his nightlight, drawing. I told him, "It's time for bed. No more drawing," and I took the paper and pencil away. He immediately shouted, "I hate you! Well, I don't hate you, but I hate it when you take away my drawing." So, see? He knew it was wrong to say "I hate you" and he corrected himself before I could even mention it. Is that progress?

I still have an appointment set up for him to see a counselor. I think I need it as much as he does. I need my husband to hear what a professional person has to say. A professional NEUTRAL person. I need to hear that I am not overreacting to my son's behavior. And, frankly, if a psychologist says, "Your son does not have any diagnosable problem. He just has a very strong personality and is a rambunctious boy." I will be totally okay with that. It is the not knowing that is killing me. Is he ADHD? Is he autistic? Is he showing early signs of being schizophrenic? Or is he just crazy and wild?

And, the scariest part of all of this is: how can I know who to trust? Just because a psychologist is licensed, doesn't mean that person really has the best intentions. We are meeting with professionals that are errant humans too. They have their own personalities and their own points of view. Not all help is really helpful, if you know what I mean. And, from the standpoint of a person who is in need of help, it's awfully hard to look at any kind of help with a discerning eye. Like a drowning person who is thrown a raft with a hole in it... what looks like help may end up being of no help at all. I don't know how to be smart about that.

So, like I said, I've sorta got my shit together, for now. I did get a scrip (Prozac) from my OB for some anti-depressants but I think I'd like to talk to a counselor too. My OB admitted that he doesn't know a lot about anti-depressants but that he'd prescribed Prozac for his patients in the past and it had been good for them. But he encouraged me to talk to a mental health professional as well, so I'm going to try to do that. So now I must conquer the phone-book-of-a-directory-of-covered-insurance-providers to find the psychologist who will be my life raft. Hopefully he or she won't be the one with the hole in it.

Crisis Update

Things today aren't much better.

I don't want to say specifically, but my son is saying some concerning stuff. I have called my insurance, my pediatrician, and made about a dozen phone calls to the intake department at the hospital. I can maybe get him in to see a counselor in AUGUST if I can travel to the facility that is over an hour away because the nearest hospital has a 4-MONTH WAIT.

What else should I expect, I guess?

I am praying like I never have before. For the first time in my life, I asked God, "Why are you doing this?" It's only because I'm weak. The only thing I can figure is that maybe He's telling me that I need to lean on Him more now than ever before. I don't have the strength to get through my days, so I guess He will give me the strength I need.

I have a doctor's appointment on Thursday - just normal OB checkup - and I am going to ask him to go ahead and give me a scrip for some anti-depressants. I need to feel like I won't fall apart every day. I do NOT want my kids to see me crying every day. That is probably the hardest part of everything that's been going on lately. Yes, I know I'm human and it's okay to cry. But seriously, like, 3 or 4 times a day? My kids are constantly asking me if I'm alright, if they can do something for me, or just blurting out "I'm sorry, Mommy! Did I do something wrong?" Heart. Breaking.

Thank you all for the concern and prayers and advice. I don't have a clue what might help my son. Maybe a more present male role-model. Maybe behavior therapy. Maybe more one-on-one time. Maybe just being on a set schedule every day. Maybe less sugar. Maybe no gluten, maybe no dairy, maybe no wheat, who the hell knows? I DO know that whatever I decide to do, it has to work for our family. I can't be busting my ass to make meals that have no sugar and no gluten and no dairy if I'm going to pass out from exhaustion of taking care of two other older kids, a toddler, and a newborn!

I don't know what the answer is. If I did, I'd have more readers than Dooce. But I do know that I have a wonderful support system in all of you and if I ever gave a thought to giving up the blog for some extra free time in front of the TV or with a scrapbook, well, those thoughts are officially put to rest.

Thanks, y'all.

Crisis

I am wondering if any one who is reading this has had a child that you wish you could send back.

(insert nervous laughter... is she serious or is she just being funny?)

I have one child who has finally pushed me too far. No, not finally, because this breakdown in our relationship hasn't happened in one day or one week or even in one year. This child, from the day he was born, has tested my patience. Exhausted me of my compassion. Emptied me of my sanity.

As a young child, he refused to go to bed on his own. I would have to sit in a chair in his room and watch him, or else he would get out of bed and re-brush his teeth (while spilling water all over his pajamas), or play with his toys, or climb up the shelves of his closet and sit on the top shelf (about 6 feet up) and throw books and toys down to the ground.

This child has caused me to cry into my pillow on countless nights. This child is causing me to be depressed. His siblings are not anything like him; they can understand our simple rules of the house (lying is absolutely wrong, ask permission before taking things that aren't yours, stay safe, etc.) that he either chooses to ignore because he just wants his own way more, or has some disconnect in his brain that does not allow him to understand things like You might get hurt if you climb up onto the roof of the garage.

When I correct him in my very low voice, which I have been practicing very very hard, he gets so mad at me that he falls to the ground, kicking and screaming, and yelling that he hates me. We had this type of incident today when I explained that he wouldn't get any dessert after dinner because he stole candy out of the cabinet and ate it. What I consider a fitting punishment is, to him, an opportunity to throw a tantrum.

When bike riding tonight, he was riding right in front of me. Then, out of no where, he decides to cross the street and crosses RIGHT in front of a moving car. Honestly, he was about 4 feet from the car's front bumper when it skidded to a halt.

Yesterday, I was filling up the van with gas and he decides to start the car. Yes, he started up the engine while the gas nozzle was still chugging the gas into my tank. I was FURIOUS and I explained that HE could have killed us all because the starter produces a spark. That spark could have caused an explosion. HE would have been the one to kill us. Do you think that was too harsh? Well, he barely batted an eye.

He is not afraid of anything, and I don't think that's a good thing. He has no natural fear of disappointing people or hurting himself or hurting other people or breaking things. He just does what he wants to do and everything else be damned.

Yes, maybe he has ADHD. And yes, that would be very convenient if my husband and I were on the same page about treating ADHD. But my husband is absolutely 100% opposed to medical intervention. NO MEDS for our son, no sirree. If he needs help then by golly, we'll just pay closer attention and MAKE him behave. Yeah, that's easier said than done. And, don't forget honey: You're at work 5/7of the week. When you're at work, who has to "make him behave?" YEP THE PERSON WHO DOESN'T AGREE WITH YOUR OPINION ABOUT MEDICINE.

I thought about vlogging this, but I thought it might be a downer to watch a person sitting on the floor of her bathroom bawling into a camera lens. But the bottom line is this:

How can I separate my feelings about my son's behavior from my feelings about him as a person. I know they are not the same, but it has been going on for so long now that the line is getting blurrier and it's just too hard to believe that he doesn't understand what he's doing. Everyone is implusive from time to time. But I have tried and tried and explained and begged and bribed and cried and told him that he needs to think before he acts. He needs to think about other people and their feelings. He needs to be a good boy, and I KNOW he knows what that means.

I don't want him to grow up thinking of himself as the bad kid in the family (even though right now that's exactly what he is). I don't want him to alienate himself from other kids and teachers because of his impulsive behavior. Most of all, I don't want him to ruin the relationship he has with me. I am sure I will always love him. But, truth be told, I don't like him at all. Not one little bit. I hate that about myself and trust me, I have already gone down the road of what an awful mother I am.

I feel so alone. This isn't the type of thing that is popular to talk about at Mommy and Me class. My relationship with my son is draining me so much to the point that when the day is over I have nothing left for myself or anyone else. I don't want to finish any projects or clean dishes. I just want to sit on the couch and cry. Is it possible that anyone else feels this way?

Gotta Love Feeling Inadequate

So I went to a new friend's house for 4th of July. While there, they fed us lovely hand-pattied angus beef hamburgers. On the side was a tomato-and-mozzarella salad with balsamic vinegar. But, the finishing touch was the basil that she put on top - basil that she went over to the plant growing in her bay window and clipped right off then put right on top of the salad.

My contribution: non-organic tomatoes and non-organic cucumbers, cut up, with Italian salad dressing on top.

I felt almost as inadequate as the time my kids told me they love my cooking. "What?" I said. "You always complain about my cooking!"

"Yeah, but you make the best ravioli! I love it so much!"

Here's my recipe for ravioli:

Living in a PG-13 World

You can't run, and you can't hide.

If you have children, you've probably been where I've been: in the check-out line at the store - the ONLY line without candy or chips - and you find yourself face-to-face with the giant words "SEX" and "ORGASM" and "PLEASURE". And please understand, usually I'm all about getting sex, having an orgasm, and feeling pleasured. But I'm not so comfortable discussing it with my 8-year-old son at 2:15 in the afternoon.

Nothin' better than unloading the shopping cart, trying to keep cold foods together and cleaning products together, when your child's voice pierces your concentration with, "Mom, what does it mean to do a 69?"

I have seriously thought about what measures I would have to go to in order to keep my children from being exposed to everything and anything before I'm ready for them to see or hear it. Go Amish? What about Mennonite? In our society, no longer are the parents the ones who decide what their children should see or hear. Now we are at the mercy of television, print media, radio, the internet, and even school.

What is the big deal about letting a kid just be a kid? Why are department stores selling midriff-bearing t-shirts and low-rise jeans for girls in size 8? Does an 8-year-old really need to show her belly button? Why is it so popular and acceptable to have cartoon characters on TV being disrespectful to parents, teachers, and policemen? When did we (suddenly? gradually?) become okay with society dictating to us how we should be raising our children?

It's getting harder and harder. Now my kids can read so I can no longer assume my kids don't know what Cosmo and Glamour say. And really, I want my kids to ask me questions and feel comfortable doing so, but I guess I'm just not ready for someone else to decide when I have to have that conversation.

And is it just me, or does anyone else think it's a little bit freaky that the sex-ed class at school keeps being bumped earlier and earlier. When I was in Junior High, we had health class and the "here's what happens to your body" talk in 7th or 8th grade. NO discussion of oral sex, condoms, or STDs. Now, I've heard that all those topics and MORE are discussed in 4th grade for girls, 5th for boys. My daughter is going into 4th grade in the fall and she is very much a mature but innocent 9-year-old. She just told me the other day that she still likes to watch Sesame Street. So having some teacher who she met 2 months previous tell her all about fellatio? Aw, HELL NO.

I guess I better go dig myself a giant hole and climb in if that's the only way I can escape it.

I'm BAAAAACCCCKKKKK

Well I cannot believe I survived the hellishly long trip in the car. I know, I know... so many of you warned me. And yet, I remained insanely cautiously optimistic. Let me tell you, optimism is HIGHLY overrated.

On the ride up, the baby was pretty good in the car on day 1. Day 2, not so much. While we were in St. Louis, we basically used my parents' house as a landing pad while we jumped from location to location: Florida, Northern IL, Southern rural IL, Six Flags, St. Louis city, etc. We were in the car a LOT. The older kids could handle it. But Baby Sally? Well, let's just say that she wasn't showing her usual happy lovely self every time we clicked that carseat restraint closed.

By the time we were headed home, I tried giving her pack after pack of fruit snacks. When I finally was afraid that her teeth would fall right out of her head from decay, I broke down and put my MP3 player on, and let her scream. The older 3 kids just turned the volume on the DVD player WAAAAYYY up. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

And, now that I'm home, I am shocked at what I've seen. I can't believe the huge difference in behavior from Linus, my 6-year-old. He's like a new kid. On our vacation, he was an unpredictable, uncontrollable wild animal. I was ready to leave him at the nearest rest stop. Now, he's back to behaving and showing remorse when he's been naughty. All I can say is, hallelujah. Also, my kids are loving reading. Maybe it was the overdose of Zack and Cody or Phinneas and Ferb, or maybe it's the incentives they can earn at the local library for completing 5 hours of reading, but since we've been home they've spent more time reading than even wanting to watch t.v. And, finally, the heat. Did you know it was 101 in Texas yesterday? And I thought it was... very pleasant. Yes, it was hot, but not like St. Louis. And definitely not like Florida. I'm not going to say "It was a dry heat" but at least I could walk around outside without feeling like I would faint. I don't know... maybe it's the pregnancy hormones playing a trick on my head, but it sure didn't feel like 101.

I'm so glad to be back to my same old house, same old bed, same old pillow, same old chores. I even missed the chores! Maybe because doing chores means familiarity, maybe because it gives me that sense of accomplishment in my day. Whatever it is, I know I am enjoying being back where I belong.

Oh, and if you're still reading this far, maybe you won't mind a few pictures from our trip

And Away We Go....

On the Beach in Ft. Myers.
Riding a Wave-Runner

Petting a Man-o-Ray (sp?) at the Imaginarium in Ft. Myers, FL.

No Explanation Necessary.

Six Flags St. Louis Hurricane Harbor

On the Carousel at Six Flags

OMG this car of people was STUCK AT THE TOP OF THE SUPERMAN RIDE AT SIX FLAGS. And LINUS WAS IN LINE TO GET ON!!!! (Major heart attack averted).

St. Louis Science Center - some Lego building class that we got into FREE with our museum membership - totally awesome.

The baby even enjoyed herself at the Science Center.

Family party for my niece's high school graduation. That's my sister on the left and my cousin on the right.

My niece in the center with her two friends.

A typical scene while I was in rural IL - being stuck behind a grain trailer, on its way to the grain silo, stopped while waiting for a train to pass. Life is slow in the country, but good.

At the Petting Zoo in northern IL while visiting Granny.