How old am I again…?

Richie turned four this week. My baby. Four. I think I was pregnant for four straight years and now I've been un-pregnant for that same amount of time.

The time. It flies.

So, Tuesday was his big day and we decided to let him choose dinner. Chick-Fil-A. He kept asking where his presents were and when his party was going to happen. We explained that he would have three parties. One immediate family dinner at Chick-Fil-A. One family party over the weekend. And, one pirate party with his buddies a few days after that.

Well, today (Saturday) was the family party. He was asked over lunch how old he was. He said, "I'm FIVE!" He was promptly corrected and then he immediately came over to me and asked, "Mom…am I five?" I said, "No, you're still four." He said, "How long will I be four?" Until next year, dear. He said, "But today is my party!" clearly misunderstanding that we are STILL celebrating his FOURTH birthday.

Tonight as Richard was tucking him into bed he told Richie that he sure was glad he had a great party today. Richie looked at him with very confused eyes, lifted his little hands in the air and said…."Dad, I have no idea how old I am."

Poor sweetie. Next week at his pirate party, he'll no doubt want SIX candles on his cake.

The time does indeed fly, but let's not get too ahead of ourselves!

What’s up with the menus…?

So, we went out to dinner tonight. Met some friends. Kids sat at a separate table. It was fabulous. I do have to ask this question, though…

…What's up with the menus?

I kid you not, the menu that I received was approximately 4 feet wide and 3 feet tall. You would have thought they were expecting a brood of far-sighted giants rather than the normal-sized, contacts wearing lot of us who were there. Had we so desired, we could have landed airplanes on those ridiculous things. The pictures of the food on the menu were as big as my entire head.

I would have been perfectly satisfied with a plain-old 8.5 x 11 sheet of paper with perhaps a nice font and short description of the items being served. Instead, I got a billboard. And not just ONE billboard, mind you. Each of us four adults received our own! Perhaps if they had mounted one on an easel in the opposite corner of the restaurant we would not have been stabbing each other in the eyes with all the opening and closing and twisting and excuse-me-please-would-you-scoot-your-chair-over-there-isn't-enough-room-here-for-my-MENU!!

Meanwhile, the children each received a tiny sliver of paper with two crayons to keep them occupied for the 65 minutes we waited for our food to arrive.

Here's a tip. Give the giant menus to the kids for scribbling. A modest sheet of paper will do for the rest of us.

Thank you.

And, if you want any more tips on how to run a restaurant….or airport….or kids coloring booth….just let me know. This timely advice is free to all.

Chats around the AMAs…

Last night after church, I snuggled up on the couch with the kids in front of the TV. There wasn't much on, so I decided to turn on the American Music Awards that I had recorded. Since we almost NEVER watch anything like this, I was hesitant but figured the pause/fast forward would come in handy. Boy did it ever! We were only able to watch about 15% of what the show had to offer, but I just had to share some of the keen observances the kids had.

Me: Okay guys, we can watch a little bit of this show until it gets weird. (Christina Aguilera's opening act was first.)

Carson (a mere 12 seconds later just after Christina freed herself of her modest coat to reveal whatever that was she was wearing underneath): Ok, Mom, I think it's getting weird.

 

Fast Forward to New Kids On The Block:

Me: Oh, hey, New Kids! These guys were really popular when I was in Jr. High.

Carson: They don't look like kids.

Avery: Yeah, are they gonna change their name?

 

Fast Forward to whoever it was that introduced Pink. I'm not sure who it was, but he had "issues":

Avery: Is he nervous?

Me (slightly under my breath): I think he's stoned.

Carson: What? He's moving. He's not stone!

Carson (a little later): Her name is PINK??

Avery: Is it because she wears pink all the time?

Me: I have no idea why her name is Pink.

 

Fast Forward through a few other award announcements and strange performances:

Avery (tenderhearted as ever): If we said we didn't like this to them would it hurt their feelings?

 

Fast Forward to Miley Cyrus:

Avery: I CAN'T BELIEVE HANNAH MONTANA IS REAL!!!!!!!

 

Fast Forward to Ashley Tisdale making an announcement:

Carson: She looks JUST LIKE Sharpay!

Me: She is Sharpay.

Carson: No she's not…she's BROWN! (I'm not sure if he was referring to her hair or to her spray tan, but clearly she could not have been Sharpay.)

Fun times in the Wal-Mart bathroom…(TMI alert)

Richie and I did the grocery run today. The last stop of the morning was Wal-Mart and by the time we got there, my breakfast smoothie had made its way to the exit and I had to use the facilities. Normally, I try to avoid such trips, but today it could not be helped. Richie happily tagged along after I promised we could go back and revisit the Lightning McQueen pillow that I peeled him away from.

I need to preface this story be letting you know that the kids had a little tummy trouble last week. I'm on high monitor for all restroom activities and have been asking all sorts of obnoxious mommy questions about the "status" of their goings. So, what follows is probably all my fault yet nevertheless embarrassing.

Richie requested to sit outside the restroom on the bench and wait for me, but I didn't trust the situation. So, he came in with me but opted to wait in the sink area. The restroom was empty so I felt it was ok. I mean, what in the world could he get into? In a public restroom. Out of my reach. Anyway…

Shortly, another woman entered. That's when Richie decided to start quizzing me. He asked, in loud echo-y fashion – "Mom, are you going POOP or PEE???"

SILENCE. Pretend he didn't just say that. Hope the lady next door didn't hear it.

Rich: "MOM! Are you going POOP or PEE???"

Me: "Can you just wait a minute please?"

Rich: "But are you going POOP or PEE???"

Me: "Richie, please. Be quiet."

Rich: "But MOM…are you going POOP or PEE???"

Me: (mortified) "Can we please just talk about it in a minute?"

Thankfully, he decided to end his line of questioning, but then decided to get down on the floor, peek under the stall door and announce, "Hey, Mom! I can SEEEEEE YOU!" I couldn't decide if I was more bothered that he was peeking in on me, that he was announcing it or that he was CRAWLING AROUND ON THE FLOOR OF THE PUBLIC RESTROOM!

Next time, I'm definitely bringing him all the way in with me. At least that way, I can physically hush him if he starts getting too nosey!

Sweetest thing ever…

If you had been at our house on this restful Sunday afternoon, you would have been delighted by the sweetness. I knew it was coming, but it was better than I anticipated.

Last night, Avery told me that she and Daddy were planning a garage sale that would be held in her bedroom. This came shortly on the heels of a discussion between her and me about making some space in her bedroom for some possible new toys she would receive at Christmas. I thought she and Daddy just might be doing a little re-organizing. But no, this was strictly for FUN.

After all had been prepped this afternoon, I heard the call from upstairs…"We need some customers!" When I topped the stairs, I saw this:

Now, seriously. Is that not the sweetest thing ever?? She had another one taped on the front of her bedroom door:

When I walked in, she had arranged everything just perfectly. There was music playing in the background. She had neatly displayed several outfits on her bed. All of the "bags" she had for sale were stacked neatly together. I was free to peruse her closet for anything I might want to purchase. There was even a neatly covered basket in the corner which contained items "not currently for sale." (In case you're wondering…her baby dolls.)

I dutifully played the role of interested and chatty neighbor. Even Carson got in on the action. He played the part of "George"…the old guy next door who traditionally comes by several times throughout the yard sale checking to see if anything new has been laid out. By the end of the 30-minute garage sale, he had made four stops at the sale and had spent approximately $624,332.12. It was not a cheap sale.

I also found out that Avery's dad was not married and did not have a girlfriend, so I took the opportunity to slip him my phone number. Wink, wink.

I know Avery had a wonderful time setting it all up with her Daddy and Carson did declare it was "the very best garage sale EVER." I have to agree. I scored a holiday Avon catalog, a stretchy yellow exercise band and a purple sweater Avery never wears for only a million bucks and one sweet kiss!

Why?

I have one day of the week when I can sleep in. It's called Saturday. Bless-ed Saturday. School isn't calling, church isn't calling. There is NOTHING calling me on Saturday mornings and one of my greatest delights is being up a tad late on Friday night knowing that on Saturday I can sleep in.

I'm not talking about the sleep in of my high school days when I would pop my eyes open around 9am and then just stare at the walls until I felt like getting up around 10am. I'm also not talking about the sleep in of my college days which consisted of finally rolling out of bed at 12:30pm just in time to hit the cafeteria before it closed for lunch. I'm talking about maybe an extra hour of sleep…..like waking up at the oh-so-late hour of perhaps 8am. I would even appreciate 7:30am.

My littlest, Richie, enjoys sleeping in every day. Such to the point that I have to physically drag him off of the top bunk at 6:50 each morning while he whines and cries and refuses to move even one muscle to help me get his sleepy behind up!

But on Saturdays? For the last three weeks IN A ROW, Richie has burst into my bedroom BEFORE 6:30am cheerful as ever and needing something right-that-minute from me.

WHY?????

His standard requests at this terrible hour are:

1. "Can I have a snack? " For which there are follow up request such as "I can't reach it!" And, "Can you open it for me? "
   
2. "I want to watch a show!"--which implies in MY bedroom while he sits on MY pillow with HIS blanket and all other manner of his comforty items. This also has the standard follow-up request of "Turn it up!" He could at least offer a "please"…right?
   
3. And today's request…"My controller is out of batteries." My response…"Get a different one." Seriously. I shouldn't have to walk him through that process at 6:30am on Saturday. It hearkens back to the morning of the "nunCHUNK" in the toilet.
   

Help. Me. Please!

I’ve been tagged…

I have tagged by one of my blogging friends, Me-Moddy. I'm not really sure what being "tagged" means. It's conjuring up images for me from elementary school that I'd rather just forget.

But being the good sport that I am, I have decided to play along…albeit a fortnight and then some overdue…sorry for the delay, Kara!

To participate in the tagging I believe I'm supposed to list six random things about myself. Feel free to grab a cup of coffee and settle in.

1. I skipped a grade. It was Kindergarten. You might think that since it was such an early grade that it doesn't count as really skipping a grade, but it does. I graduated from high school two weeks after my 17^th birthday. Yeah, I was always a young-un. Not only did I skip a grade, early on I was in a self-paced learning environment and soon paced myself right out of two additional grades of math. So, while my fellow 12 year olds were learning to use their protractors in sixth grade, I was in the 7^th grade getting my algebra on with the 9^th graders. Talk about not knowing where you belong! You might wonder what I've done in my life with all that early mathematical aptitude…well, aside from acing my university calculus course, pretty much absolutely nothing.
   

   
   

   And, in case you were wondering, I would not recommend allowing children to skip grades no matter how genius they may be. It gets to be a social quagmire right around jr. high. At least, I blame my personal awkwardness on being the youngest of my peers. But, perhaps it is just my awkwardness itself that should be blamed…I had more than my fair share, I think!
   

   
   

2. All of my children were born on Thursdays. Maybe just a coincidence, but special to me!
   
3. I border on Road Rage. I have several driving behavior pet peeves, but here are the three most likely to earn somebody a stare down.
   
   1. Driving under the speed limit. There is no excuse for this.
      
   2. Riding my bumper. I will brake randomly and suddenly. Be prepared.
      
   3. Driving in the left lane being passed by drivers on the right. Can you not see that people are passing you ON THE RIGHT??? Move over!!
      

   I feel like I need to repent after making this confession.
   

4. My dream job would be teaching. I taught two semesters at a local university a few years ago. Loved it.
   
5. Ironically, my nightmare job would be home-schooling.
   
6. In the five houses I've lived in since getting married, I've personally painted a total of 21 rooms. The most recent was my kitchen this past weekend which I have now painted twice.
   

There you have it. Six random things about me.