Had to stop taking the kids places to have fun today, and actually go and do the grocery shopping. I had been putting it off in favour of doing much more fun things, basically since school let out.  So it was definitely time.  The cupboards were pretty bare and the cantina equally so.  The kids had shared the last apple at breakfast, which didn’t make them happy and they were loudly complaining that I needed to buy milk.  I can’t wait until they are old enough to send to the store!!!!!!!

I started off with one child sitting in one cart, and by the time I got through the produce section I realized that this was going to be a two cart endeavour.  So we continued on  with two carts- I pushed Gregory in a cart with a wonky wheel, and Paulina pushed Sabrina in another cart.  After almost running into two different people, I asked Paulina if she was having trouble with her cart and it seemed that she too had a wonky cart that didn’t want to turn.  So Jeremy provided a third cart, and we did a rapid transfer of groceries and one child in mid-aisle.  This did not make me happy, but Sabrina enjoyed it.

After putting off the shopping for so long, and getting by on fresh veggies from my in-laws and periodic short trips to the store, it was time for some serious buying.  One problem I always encounter when I take the gang shopping is that they always convince me to buy food that I would not normally buy, and so $416 later, we checked out. The kids bagged and loaded the carts, and we left with 4 different kinds of cookies that I have never bought before, and one that was completely empty before we even paid for it!!!!

Luckily, this time I only had to deal with the kids being noisy, and only occasionally forgetting they weren’t supposed to run in the store.  This time we made it through without any real embarrassment, like the time not long ago when the boys put plastic produce bags over their heads and pretended to be zombies, and the gasps of nearby shoppers roused me from my neglect while I obliviously inspected the quality of the hot-house tomatoes.

 Paulina went with her friend to hang out at her stable, and ride horses for the evening.  When she got home, Paulina was beside herself with excitement, telling me about how affordable it is to ride, almost free in fact, if you just go to the stable three times a week and help with the horses.

I stripped all her clothes off her, and threw them in the washing machine, my sneezing began and within minutes I was wheezing as if I had just gotten off a horse myself.  I am highly allergic to horses, and any other creature with a furry body.

I took the smelly daughter upstairs to shower, and listened to her chat dreamily about horses and riding, while holding a tissue to my nose and using my inhalers.  Finally, she was clean and no longer an anaphylaxsis hazard, but mad at me because, being the dream crusher that I am, I had crushed her fantasy of taking riding lessons instead of playing rep soccer next summer.

It was after 10pm, way too late for her to be up, so I excused her sudden sullenness and allowed her to plop into bed without brushing her teeth-or combing her long wet hair.  I told her it was her problem, but I knew it would be mine when morning rolled around and she looked like a red haired, 10 year old Medusa. 

My sneezing and wheezing for some reason did not seem reason enough to her to forget about the horse dream, because I could ‘just drop her off’ every day and go back to her pick up.’  Hmm, yes that is a definite possibility- I could pack all the kids into the van three times a week and drive for 45 minutes to drop her off with strangers, drive 45 minutes to get back home, and then pack the kids up again 2 hours later to go get her and drive 45 minutes to pick her up and then 45 minutes to get home.  Now, math is not my forte but even to me that seems like a lot of driving!

Tomorrow, I need to convince her that her hamsters can be good horse substitutes, after all it is time to muck out their cages, and I’m allergic to them too.

Took some time for myself today and went for a much needed hair cut and highlights. I knew it was time because the kids had begun wondering aloud why my hair was yellow in some places, and brown underneath.  And trust me, they never comment quietly and they never comment unless we are in public. 

So anyway, feelin’ pretty good about myself today, lovin’ the highlighted, nicely blow dried locks, and yes, I do keep looking at myself in the mirror, because for once I didn’t have to style it myself and it looks GOOOODDDD!!!

To be honest, I may have even been smiling at myself in the mirror when Jeremy noticed me, and commented on it with a smirk on his face. It had been a looonnnnggg time since Mama had gotten her hair done,  and she just might be lovin’ herself a little! 

So, even though my son is making fun of me for looking at myself in the mirror so much today, I may just continue all night long!  I don’t care if he thinks I’m weird, and he did agree (when prompted) that my hair is very pretty.   I have to enjoy it now, because God knows, tomorrow it won’t look anything like this!

Hi everyone!

Just quickly want to let you all know that I have submitted two stories into a writing contest at http://www.pleasemum.com/essay_contest.php#all_54. The stories are supposed to be 500 words or less, but since my advisors (Bettelou) tell me that the shorter my posts are, the more likely you will read them, I have kept them at about 300 words.

All entries will be judged by peers, YOU, so I am asking you to click and vote when you have time, the deadline is August 9th.  I won’t ask you to vote for me, but I HOPE you will!!!!I submitted my ‘Just say no’ story, about how much I love sleeping with my kids, and a new story that I haven’t yet posted, titled ‘Purple, not my lip colour’.  Let me know what you think of it??

Please, please, please, please, please, pleaseeeeeeeeee (imagine whiny voice) click and vote (for me)!!!.

Was that a maybe?  Yay! That means YES!!

The prizes are gift cards at Please Mum and some skin care products (among other things), but what excites me is the fact that the winning entries are published in a couple of high traffic websites, so it would really get my site some great exposure!  My thinking is, the more people who visit my site regularly, the more chance I might have at getting my children’s stories published one day!!

Be prepared for me to bore you all with constant reminders to vote (for me) until the deadline.  Hey!  I have an idea-you could save time, and not even read any of the other stories, that way voting won’t take much of your time at all!  Just thinking of you! Honest…

Thanks for your support!!

My boys have night terrors.

And then I have night terrors, because to tell the truth, they scare me.  When they are shaking and crying and staring at me and saying “I want Mama” and it’s me they are looking at, the hair on the back of my neck rises. I have to resist the urge to look over my shoulder into the dark hallway and to slap them awake. 

We have discovered that night terrors at our house happen when bedtimes are too late and the kids are overtired, or when they don’t pee just before they go to bed. Usually a quick trip to the bathroom solves the problem, but sometimes some serious back rubbing and soothing is necessary.

We are accustomed to hearing our eldest son walking around, or running around upstairs, sometimes crying, sometimes talking in a regular voice.  Sometimes, he will run down the stairs and pass us without noticing we are sitting there, staring at him.  He often repeats weird things, his most common being a repetition of ‘I want, I want, I need, I need’ while staring with glazed over wide eyes. 

I almost lost my own bladder control one night at bedtime, around 11:30, when I reached around the double doors to my bedroom to hit the light switch, and he was standing up against the wall in the pitch black, with his eyes wide open.  Amazingly, my scream didn’t disturb him and he stayed there until I reached out, grasped him by the shoulders and steered him back to his bed. 

One night while my hubby and I were deciding whose turn it was to deal with him, he ran down the stairs, through the family room and into the kitchen where he opened the door under the kitchen sink, and peed into the garbage can.  My husband and I always stare at him in stunned silence when he does these things, because what can you say?  He’s not really there.  He’s peed on piles of clean, folded laundry, and on his bed while sleepwalking, so we’ve been very grateful that he hasn’t peed on his little brother who sleeps in the bed next to his, often openmouthed.