So why doesn't this ever happen at home, inside, and in beds...???

Fortunately all five napped (except, at the time of this picture, for Blessing #5 who was wide-eyed). Unfortunately it happened on the two-second drive home from school. So instead of napping myself, I parked in the driveway and read a book.

But hey, I'm not complaining-- I actually got to read a book without the chaos of monkey chatter... and it was quiet! Nope, there was absolutely no reason to disturb this few minutes of peace.

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Yesterday as we turned onto our street to come home from school, I spied a yellow piece of paper on the sidewalk with a rock on it. I know that canary yellow paper. It’s the kids’ drawing paper. I pulled the car over, hopped out, and slid the paper out from under the rock. Now, mind you, I found this five days after my birthday. Here is what I read:

“Come to (insert my name here)’s 30th birthday celebration on February 17, 2007! 5:30pm! (insert my address here) Call (insert my phone number here) if you have any questions. Pass this invitation along to all your friends! See you Saturday! This was written by a 7 year old!”

B#2 says, “Oh yeah! She snuck across the street to leave the invitation!” (giggle, giggle) “She told me she was going to do that!”

I would’ve kept it because it was so funny, but it’s a little smelly. (One of those ornery tomcats must’ve marked it). I’m not sure why the neighbors left it out there, but surely they must not have seen it… No one showed up to my party! ha,ha!

Who would’ve thought B#1 could’ve topped herself the same day! As I’m working on dinner yesterday afternoon, she marches into the kitchen.

(I interject here to give you some background. Upon a friend’s tip about the Nancy Drew Notebooks geared toward younger readers, I picked up three at the library Monday night. By Thursday morning, she’d already read all three. So Thursday I returned those three and borrowed three more. By the time she fell asleep last night, she had read another one.)

“Just so you know, Mom, I’m going to be setting up a desk in the front yard with a sign-up sheet that says, ‘If you need a mystery solved, please sign here for just one dollar...’ Or maybe it should say ‘50 cents.’ Anyways, this is kidwork. Just like Daddy goes to work and makes money for the house, this is what kids do. Do you get this, Mom?” I suggested that maybe it would be better to set up her detective agency indoors. “I know what I’m doing… I need a money-collection box.” Fortunately for her, she found an empty tissue box that is now serving as her cash box. (Unfortunately for B#2, this empty box had already been discovered in the trash and was serving as her doll’s new ‘trash collection box.’)

I walk into the living room and say that we can’t take the detective desk out front because it’s raining. “That’s why I put a top protector on it, Moma.” Yep, indeedy… She’s got a vinyl tablecloth draping the piano bench. She heads to the laundry room and comes back with my step stool. “This is my chair. I’ll need to sit while everyone is lined up to sign up for my mystery solving.”

Turning to her siblings, “You guys wanna watch? You can pretend to sign up so I can practice. You’ve gotta put real money in, though.”

Today she headed to school with her mystery clues notebook in her front jeans’ pocket. Evidently, she had it with her just in case she ran into a mystery at school… but it seems that, at some point during the day, it fell out and is now lost… the last time she actually saw it was walking to class after I dropped her off. The loss wasn’t discovered, though, until we arrived home this afternoon. Wailing cries of sobs and sorrow ensued. A new notebook has been promised by yours truly.

After school, once she realized that I was still not going to let her set up shop in the front yard, she got to work on her “better” idea. Now my front windows and a couple of the trees are adorned with signs that advertise her sleuthing-for-hire. She has moved her office into the entryway. I read the front door sign that said “FREE,” and I decided to come up with a mystery for her to solve. I hadn’t even gotten my name down when she asked for my 50 cents. I objected, “But your sign says ‘free.’” “No,” she says, “it’s free to call me. You have to pay to sign up your mystery.” “But shouldn’t you get paid after you successfully solve the case?” “No, that’s not how it works, Mom.”

Despite the slight case of false advertising, I will still hire her to solve a mystery. I just need to create one first. I’ve got a little time, though. She’s distracted with other things… she’s reading another Nancy.

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Well, today is my birthday, and what better way to landmark a new decade in life (but since I’ve cancelled it the last five years, I’m really only 25!) than to bake up another batch of a truly decadent dessert!

No cake for me this year. I decided to have baklava instead…

and I even put a candle on the top of it. :)

For lunch the kids had sticks & stones (a.k.a. fish sticks & chicken nuggets) and then headed over to play at our friends’ house… Monkey Daddy and Monkey Birthday Moma went on a late-lunch date Down Under. Mmmm! After church tomorrow, we plan on going out for pizza or something for a “birthday meal” as a family.

When I got up this morning, the kids had made me some really sweet cards. Blessing #2’s had this precious drawing of me in a party hat (with balloons and confetti even) opening piles of presents and cards. She also put a quiz on the back of it:

Ha wld r you? (How old are you?)

Hw Hpe r you? (How happy are you?)

Ha wld r you trneg? (How old are you turning?)

B#3 ran in to the living room to quickly get me a present. He came back with a Magna Doodle wrapped in computer paper for me to open. Then he sat in the kitchen and drew pictures of my birthday on it. He drew a cake and asked me what number he needed to put on it.

I said, “25!”

To this, B#1 said, “No! Not 25! 30! Moma turned 30 today!”

B#3 says, quite matter-of-factly, “No, not 30. I heard Moma. She said 25. That’s what Moma said.”

And he put 25 on his cake.

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Alli tagged me for this alphabet meme, so here it goes!

Aprons- Y/N? occasionally when cooking… should wear it all the time, though, since I usually end up with something on the front of my shirt. When I'm pregnant, I always remember to wear one, though, since I've got a belly sticking out to remind me!

Baking- Favorite thing to bake? Depends on my mood… something tasty, definitely

Clothesline- Y/N? not a true clothesline… I’ve got a makeshift one by stringing a rope between fences on the side of the house. I plan on having something a little more permanent (and sturdy) someday

Donuts- Ever made them? Not by myself or since I was little, but I have fond memories of making them growing up… topped with powdered sugar.

Everyday- One homemaking thing you do everyday? Unload and reload the dishwasher.

Freezer- Do you have a separate deep freezer? We’ve got one in the garage, and it is full of meat, bread, veggies, meals…. In fact, we’d like a garage refrigerator to go with it.

Garbage Disposal- Y/N? Yes—the one in the sink… and the dog on the floor who grabs the crumbs that hit the ground

Handbook- Y/N? what exactly does "handbook" refer to? Is this a fancy way of saying purse? Then, yes. Is it a fancy way of saying “personal organizer”? Then, no… I’ve tried to carry a calendar organizer in my purse and it never stays up-to-date… I had to spend too much time transferring appointments and scribbles from the kitchen calendar.

Ironing- Love it or hate it? Huh??? Ironing? What’s that? :) I only iron when it's an absolute necessity... and that's about once a year around the time of a company Christmas dinner!

Junk Drawer- Where is it? In the kitchen next to the refrigerator.

Kitchen- Design and decorating? Red walls, white cabinets… and ugly yellowed linoleum that looks more dingy because of the white cabinets.

Love- What is your favorite part of homemaking? Knowing I’m doing it for my family… and the few moments I have to enjoy the sense of accomplishment of a really clean and organized room… before the kid-tornado tears through

Mop- Y/N? yes… and I do use it! Though probably not as often as I should. In the in-between using the mop-mop times, I will "hand mop"-- you know, with a paper towel!

Nylons- Wash by hand or in the washer? Haven’t worn them in a long time… But when I do, I throw them on handwash cycle in the washer….

Oven- Do you use the window or open it to check? Use the window to get an idea, but have to crack the door to really see… can’t tell if something is browning with a tinted (or is it just dirty?!) window.

Pizza- What do you put on yours? veggies.

Quiet- What do you do during the day when you get a quiet moment? There really aren’t many quiet moments in my day… at least not until the kids are asleep at night! Sometimes if we have a few minutes before school’s out and we’re already there, I’ll read a book or something… but, even then, it’s almost never quiet while I’m reading.

Recipe card box- Y/N? No… I have a small photo album with index cards slid into the picture slots and I’ve got my favorite recipe books with favorite recipes stuffed in… Ones that aren’t on index cards. I used to have a box… Now it’s a Strawberry Shortcake house or treasure chest or something.

Style of house- Uh… is 'cute' a style?!? I don’t know what you call it… colonial, maybe? Or does it have to be an old house to be colonial? Neo-colonial. Well, how about you look at the picture and tell me what that’s called!

Tablecloths and napkins- Y/N? paper napkins always… a tablecloth rarely… like at Thanksgiving or maybe when company is over.

Under the kitchen sink- the kitchen trash, kitchen trash bags, dishwasher detergent, kitchen cleaning supplies (hidden behind the trash), aluminum foil, plastic wrap, wax paper, food baggies, a small supply of bar mop towels for wiping up water splashes and drips around the sink and on the counters (something I started when I was a dedicated flybaby)

Vacuum- How many times a week? I probably run the vacuum more than once a week, but I might only hit each carpeted area one time during the week. Depending on the circumstances, it may be more… like if someone has dropped a chip and crushed it into smithereens or has rolled a tonka dump truck full of sand through the family room or has emptied the hole punch on the rug… (and depending on other circumstances, I suppose it could be less!)

Wash- How many loads do you do a week? Fortunately, my washer has a very large capacity because, unfortunately, seven people go through quite a bit of laundry… even with the imposed mandatory recycling rule!

X's- Do you keep a list of things to do and cross them off? Depends. Sometimes I do, other times I don’t. Sometimes it is very rewarding to see that I’ve crossed off so many things… other times it is very discouraging to see how many things are still on my list. It all depends on what the list is.

Yard- Who does what? Monkey Daddy does all the hard work… and he does a great job at it!

ZZZ's- What is your last homemaking task for the day? The last-minute room rescue of grabbing the random things that clutter up the house… the one dirty sock here and the toy there and the newspaper here and the scrap-paper doodles there… the quick dash to make things ready for when I come down the next morning… so I wake up to a fairly organized home!

So there you go! Now it’s my turn to pass on the fun, so I tag the Queen of the Castle over at Princess Diaries, Pinky at her PolkaDot Place, and the Mama Bird at Flamingo Lingo….

Join in, and play along!:)

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Blessing #5 is a total un-water baby just like B#4 was… which means that we only have to put up with his screaming for 11 more months.

After coming home from dropping the older girls off at school this morning, I pulled out the trusty water bottle and set up shop. It was a haircut morning for B#3. Except for the last time I gave him a haircut, every time I’ve done a mushroom cut on him. (A total flashback to 1980s America, I know, but I am an 80s girl!) Anyways, the haircut is so stinkin’ cute on him and it just seems to suit his personality… so after a one-haircut hiatus, we’re back to “the bowl.” Though in the past I’ve never actually used a bowl, on a whim I pulled one out today.

Why are you getting your stuff down from up there for my haircut, Moma?
Why is there a bowl on my head?

The tupperware helmet lasted long enough to get in a few snips of the scissors… and a picture, of course.

In the middle of the haircut, he snaps his around (mid-snip, I might add) to try and watch me as I’m cutting on the back of his head.

Lemme see those cutters, Moma. Hmmm… can I hold those scissors? I think I’d like to try them out on my hair.

I finished cutting, as his attention span was leaving and the squirmies were arriving. Now he and B#4 are watching a Wallace & Gromit cartoon. The “one with the refrigerator on the moon” was specifically requested by him. And because, from this cartoon, he knows that the moon is made of cheese, he also specifically requested a piece of square cheese and two square crackers for a video snack… “because that’s what Wallace and Gromit like to eat.”

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Blessing #5 has already started to rapidly expand his vocabulary... Last night, he crawled into the kitchen, stood up at his highchair, slapped his hands on the seat, and said "Coooo-kie."

This morning, after picking B#2 up from kindergarten, we came home and I started fixing lunch.

(Now, the old saying says that a watched pot never boils, but I know firsthand that, as well, the pot of water for mac & cheese will not boil when one has forgotten to turn on the range burner. Needless to say, lunchtime was incredibly leeennnnggtthhyy today because I did not notice for quite a while.)

In the meantime, B#2 was digging through her special delivery truck-- the envelope she made in school for Valentine's cards--showing #s 3-5 what she had gotten from her classmates. It took B#5 about 2 minutes of exposure to Valentine's goody bags for him to look at me, point to the delivery truck, and ask for "Candy!"

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Not surprisingly (since they’re a staple food in our house), other than the usual moma-dada babble, Blessing #5’s first recognizable word is officially “banana” …Recognizable not because of his clear enunciation of it, but because the same thing is heard at every meal. He reaches, points at the bananas, grunts a nnnnnuh-uh, and soon starts shoveling bites into his mouth. His word for “banana” sounds quite a bit like the I’m-pooping grunt, but he is saying banana nonetheless.

I captured a short video to illustrate.

Here’s an explanation of the video timeline (and if you listen closely, you might hear him say nnnnnuh-uh banana a couple times!):

the banging-on-the-table demand for bananas

the “mmm-mm” and reach to feel the banana

the examination of the banana and taste test of the peel

the eating of banana coins and the “mmm”-grunt for more

the drop of a bite over to the side of the tray for the dog to snag

the that-was-naughty-naughty gasp of Monkey Moma

the “I will not cry, I will not cry” quivery-lipped pout of B#5

the “nu-uh” by MM again

the “I will not look at Moma, I will not look at Moma” as B#5 averts his eyes and pretends he doesn’t hear me

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Hmmm… interesting noises in my house this morning… beyond the normal sounds of toys, music, and chatter.

Thump, rattle, clankety-clank. Thump, rattle, clanketly-clank.

I see a mini-Superman running through the kitchen making an awful lot of racket. I ask him what is making all the noise. Blessing #3 informs me that it is the tin of dominoes in his Superman pants. When I say something along the lines of “Get those outta there, kiddo!” he lets me know that he cannot.

“I’m Superman. And I can’t get them out ‘cause Superman’s hands are always in front of him ‘cause he flies. And all he does is save people.”

Ahh…. well, fair enough, I suppose.

This was soon followed by the shrill of
"Moooommmmmmaaaaa!" Hysterical shrieks of panic and sadness ensue, and I call to Blessing #4 to find out what the problem is. The only response I get is more “Mooommmmaaaa! Commmmee heeeeere!” She was upstairs in her sisters’ room. She’s squatted on the floor in front of the dresser. Amid the sobs and tears, “Get it off, Moma! Get it off! Ewww! Icky! Get it off, Moma!”

I look down at her dress and see that she has scribbled over the front of it with (of course) a black Sharpie. “Oh… look at that… sorry, honey. Moma can’t get that off. That’s a permanent marker. I can’t wash it out of your dress.”

“Ewww! Look, Mommy. Get it off! Yucky!” More sobs. More tears. More squeals.

I look down at her hand. Looks a little like she’s been in soggy graham crackers. Hmmm… how’d she get the crackers? And why did she chew them up and then spit them onto her hand? Utterly clueless.

Then I realize that it’s poop. Immediately I’m mentally trying to figure out where to place the blame. The dog? The cat? The new cat? I ask her where the poop is. She points behind her. There, in a squishy little pile, is the poop. It finally registers that it’s her poop. All I can think is, where are your panties? (I guess since they weren't on, she was trying to catch it with her hand...?) I found them. Downstairs in the bathroom.

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Blessing #1 turned seven on the fifth!

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Broken Hearted

Note to one's self:

Prior to mentally gloating over having one's daughter's birthday cake in the oven by 7:30am (and, thus, envisioning the rest of the day to get oh-so many things accomplished), one should first ensure the cake's release from the pans.

Fortunately for said notetaker's baking ego, surprise pink-heart-chocolate-cake attempt #2 was out of the oven cooling by 9am and was decorated before said one's daughter returned home. Surprise pink-heart-chocolate-cake attempt #2 is now ready for the family's celebration of Blessing #1's seventh (ahhhhgggg!) birthday.

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