Rugrats and Dirty Rugs

Celtic Warrior

2009-11-07T10:50:00.003-07:00

We went to visit the doctor the other day.

Of course, in our house that is not an unusual occurrence.

In this particular instance, Happy needed stitches.

The boy had decided to stand on top of a kitchen stool. Said stool decided to tip over and fall out from underneath him. The poor kid's forehead slammed into it and he bled all over himself.

Being the expert in "do we need stitches or not", I took one look at his head and knew we needed a doctor since I am not an expert in stitching up rambunctious boys. My bedside manner would be decidedly lacking.

Everything went as expected until it was time for Happy to feel the sting of the needle. Things didn't go well after that.

The doc had decided to put a paper-like material over his face while he stitched him up and Happy was not happy with that.

The kid started screaming his head off.

It wasn't the kind of "Help me, this hurts!" kind of screaming. It was the extremely angry Celtic warrior kind of screaming. It was the "How dare you do this to me!" kind of screaming.

The screams continued throughout the procedure and it rattled off the walls of the entire building. Intermittently, everyone heard, "Get this thing off of me!"

Needless to say, it was no picnic.

Of course, I felt compassion for the boy, but after the 50th scream, my patience was at an end. I ended up hissing at the child to please knock it off and sometimes not with a please.

Once the material came off his face, Happy immediately calmed down. We all breathed a sigh of relief and I rattled my ear with my finger to try and get rid of the ringing.

As soon as I could, I hustled the boy out of the building apologizing profusely to everyone all the while. I had to keep in mind that, after all, the kid is only four.

Someday, I will tell him that when he goes into battle he may be scared. I will remind him of this day and tell him that he may be scared, but he has a warrior's heart.

And a warrior doesn't let fear stand in the way.

Dust Bunnies

2009-08-29T08:24:00.003-06:00

We seriously need a normal backyard.

You know. The kind that is fenced-in all around and six-feet tall. The gate is padlocked and no one in his right mind would dare venture forth with a German shepherd in the yard.

One that happens to be the neighborhood terror right now.

I need a normal backyard, people.

One with thick, cool grass and tall, bushy trees to give shade. Lots of them.

Instead, I've got a backyard that brings in four boys covered from head to toe in dirt after an afternoon of play.

They literally come inside looking like dust bunnies. Large ones.

Enduring their mother's horrified reaction, they are asked, "What in the world are you doing out there? Rolling around in the dirt?!" As if that were something to be looked upon as insane.

Which, to them, is an absolutely normal thing to do.

Come to find out, they like to take the tricycle to the top of the bluffs and roll down the hill.

It's all about the high-risk sports.

Who wants a normal backyard when you can fly down a hill and risk breaking your neck?

Next thing I know, they'll be jumping out of airplanes.

Bug Spray

2009-08-15T11:40:00.003-06:00

I often wonder if the liberal testosterone running through their veins aides in the shut-down of the brain.

They are such violent creatures at times and often their hands are in permanent fists. Even Sneezy has perfected the fist with his tiny, little baby hand.

I would swear they try to think up ways to perfect their masculinity, but often they end up with escapades that border on the moronic.

I have said to myself more often than not that I am surrounded by morons.

Case in point.

Due to the extreme critter conditions we find ourselves here in southern Colorado, we have the ever-present bug spray in the garage.

This is not the kind you find in a dinky, little can. It's the kind that you carry and has a hose attached to a spray nozzle.

Heavy-duty stuff here.

After all, we want to KILL the spiders, not numb them.

We keep it high up off the floor because after all we do try to be responsible adults and keep poison out of reach of children.

It even has it in big, bold letters on the product itself: KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN.

So, we thought it would be safe on top of the fridge in the garage totally not realizing that our children may be getting taller, but they still require parental supervision.

One day, 7 year old Sleepy comes to tell me his daily observations of life in general when I noticed he had a peculiar rash on his face.

My forehead scrunched in confusion and with great exasperation yelled, "What happened to your face?!"

He calmly replied that Grumpy sprayed him with bug spray. He went on to show me the various body parts that had gotten in the way as well when I pulled up his shirt to check.

"Grumpy?! Grumpy did this?"

You may well wonder why I ask this question, but I always thought Grumpy was more intelligent than this.

Thus, I wonder at this point if maybe the testosterone got in the way of his brain.

After Grumpy was found, he was brought to the firing squad.

He looked quite disconcerted to find his mother just staring at him with her mouth open and fire in her eyes for a good minute before she started into lecturing.

When his mother gets going, it could be a good ten minutes before she starts winding down. After all, this is poison we're talking about. It needs a good ten-minute lecture if not more.

All the while my mouth is streaming forth with all sorts of outraged motherly noises, I'm thinking, "Dumb. Just dumb. I'm surrounded by morons."

The I wonder about the things I don't know about.

It's enough to make me shudder.

Snake Scare

2009-08-12T16:39:00.002-06:00

We've lived in this particular house in southwest Colorado for about three years now and have not seen the mythical creature called the rattlesnake.....until last night.

My parents have come for a visit and brought a trailer with them to the delight of the boys.

They parked it in our driveway and we all have beaten a path to and from the house.

Last night, Mom was tired and decided to call it a night. Two seconds after she walked out the door, she walks back in and nonchalantly says, "Okay. Someone go out there and kill the snake."

Pandemonium breaks out.

Everyone just has to see the snake outside and lo and behold, after some inspection to the thing on the sidewalk with big boots and a monster flashlight, the verdict was a baby rattlesnake had decided to visit.

Oh, joy.

With Unca Gug smashing it with a baseball bat and Doc holding the gun on it just to make sure, the wiggling mass of snake was finally put to rest.

I think I will be walking to the trailer on my tippy-toes next time.....and maybe I'll bring Doc's gun along with me just to be on the safe side.

VISA Solution

2009-08-12T16:33:00.002-06:00

Grandma and Grandpa have come for a visit and they have been imparting some of their wisdom and advice to the boys.

Grandma asked the two older boys (9 and 12) if they have thought about where they will take their girlfriends on a date.

Of course, their reply was an adamant no, so Grandma decided then and there to give them some advice.

She told them to take their girls to a nice restaurant with sit-down service and nice silverware and then after that take them to a movie.

She informed them that a good date would cost them approximately $80.

Grumpy replied, "Wow! That costs about as much as a bunny rabbit!" (His mind is always full of future plans for buying his own pet rabbit.)

Grandma said they would need to get a good job so they could afford to do this.

Grumpy said, "Or I could just use a VISA."

Ever-Lovin'

2009-06-09T09:37:00.003-06:00

There is a phrase that I am fond of repeating.

Actually, I have no choice because the reason for my favorite phrase happens on a daily occurrence.

I have five sons who scream just to hear themselves do it.

It seems to be their favorite pastime.

Throughout the day, I am constantly yelling, "Shut up!", or "Stop it!", or "Be quiet!", or when I've really had it, "Shut the *&%$ up!"

Well, not really, but that's what I'm thinking by the end of the day while I'm grabbing my hair and pulling what is left of it by the scalp.

There are times when I've given a blow-by-blow description of my day to Doc and my usual phrase ends up in the conversation.

"He was screaming his ever-lovin' head off!"

Again, this is a daily occurrence and I am forever repeating that particular phrase.

It's no wonder that Grumpy has picked it up himself.

Sneezy was ready for his nap this morning and we all knew it was time because the child made his bad temper more than obvious.

Grumpy took it upon himself to deposit the bad-tempered tyrant in jail, er bed and shut the door.

After he trooped downstairs, he informed me, "He is screaming his ever-lovin' head off!"

Ghastly

2009-06-06T10:22:00.003-06:00

Ghastly.

I love that word.

It's the kind of word that you have to say with an English accent.

Ghastly.

Every time I hear it or read it, I laugh.

I can't seem to help myself. Just the sound of it rolling off my tongue emits giggles out of my mouth.

I then wonder how I can use it in my every day life.

What would I describe as ghastly?

Well, maybe the kitchen floor after dinnertime.

Yes. I would say that was ghastly.

Or, maybe the bathroom floor around the toilet after the boys have used it.

Definitely ghastly.

Even possibly, that one time when I was stranded on the road with five children and two flat tires.

That was definitely a time that exuded ghastliness.

Is that a word? If not, it should be. There are times in my life where that word should be used and laced with scathing sarcasm.

I wouldn't be averse to using it as a mild profanity, either.

It makes one feel quite brilliant actually when describing a scene that one would call revolting in the extreme.

Or just mildly disgusting.

The word ghastly should be used at all occasions of ghastliness if only to make one feel better.

Disgusting Stuff

2009-04-23T12:32:00.002-06:00

"You know what, Mom?"

"What, Sleepy?"

"Inside your eye is disgusting stuff."

"Oh." I take a moment to laugh.

"Yeah. Bashful and Grumpy looked into my eye and said there is disgusting stuff in there."

Okay, then.

A Round, Little Plug

2009-04-22T18:46:00.004-06:00

One evening, while visiting my parents, I decided to give my rank toddler a bath.

I plopped him down on the floor and looking into the tub, my face scrunched into confusion. This was an older tub and didn't have any mechanism to plug it up. I knew my parents had a special plug for it, but I couldn't find it anywhere.

So, I yelled down the stairs, "Mom! Where's the plug to the bathtub?"

To prove that I am getting old in more ways than one, I thought I heard her say it was on the floor next to the tub.

The only plug I could see was the toilet plunger.

"Huh," I muttered, and grabbed it.

I stuck that dang toilet plunger into the tub to see if it would plug up.

As I pushed it down, it popped right back up and I said to Sneezy, "They can't be using the toilet plunger to plug up the bathtub."

My face was a study in confusion as I yelled down the stairs, "Do you mean the toilet plunger, Mom?" just to make sure our wires weren't crossing.

In order for her deaf daughter to hear her, she raised her voice and said, "The plug is on the shelf in the bathtub."

"Oh," and there it was. A round, little plug.

This was definitely one of my dumbest moments.

2009-04-22T18:41:00.003-06:00

Bashful comes in the house after having a rousing, good time outside playing with some neighborhood boys.

He bypasses the kitchen and troops downstairs to the bathroom.

He happily explains to me that there is yet another boy to play with while turning on the bathroom faucet.

I interrupt his dialogue to inform him that we do have cups in the kitchen and he is quite able to fill one with water from the kitchen sink.

The boy looks at me as if I have suggested something totally incomprehensible. His expression was like, "Why would I do something like that?" and proceeded to bend over and put his mouth in the running water.

I'm raising a bunch of barbarians.

Waiting for the Mail

2009-04-15T13:09:00.003-06:00

This morning, I announced to the boys that two new movies would be arriving in the mail soon.

Happy anticipated this with bated breath.

He even knew what time the mail lady usually arrived and asked if he could go outside and get the mail.

He put on a mismatched outfit and shoes and trudged out the door.

After a while, I came out of my daze and noticed that there was no Happy exclaiming his excitement and waving the tell-tale red envelopes in the air.

I called and called for him in the house and then Grumpy noticed that Happy was still outside.

We realized that the mail hadn't arrived yet because Happy had decided to lie down on the ground and wait for it come.

No Time for A Sock

2009-04-11T13:51:00.003-06:00

It was time to go to another birthday party.

We were rushing out the door as usual when I noticed that Grumpy had yet to put some socks on. I told him to go find some and went out to the car. I mentally crossed my fingers and thought, "He can find his own socks, for Pete's sake! He's nine!"

We sat in the car and waited for him to come out so that we could be on our way.

We arrived at the party all accounted for and I told the boys to take their shoes off when we got in the door.

I was talking to a friend of mine when she looked behind me and started laughing.

I turned around and there was Grumpy with only one sock on.

"Wha....where is your other sock?" I demanded huffily.

He sheepishly replied, "I couldn't find another one."

Chocolate and Exercise

2009-04-08T16:50:00.002-06:00

A few months back, my husband bought an exercise bike.

Oh, joy.

I pointed to the general direction of the TV and said he better put it there if he expects it to be used at all.

I love to kill two birds with one stone.

I have neglected that poor bike and dust has settled over it for the past couple (okay, maybe a few) weeks.

Last night, I discovered a box of Ghiardelli chocolate-covered pretzels.

Considering my weakness for chocolate and the empty bag this morning, maybe I should dust off that exercise bike.

Nostalgic Chicken

2009-04-08T16:30:00.003-06:00

One beautiful summer day, Doc, the boys, and I were visiting beautiful West Virginia and my family.

We were sitting out on the deck scattered around in chairs and Mom was making dinner for us all.

She made fried chicken and homemade French fries.

We sat outside and enjoyed our feast and ever since then, I've craved that meal with more than just hunger pains.

Tonight, I'm making a dummed-down version of that meal.......shake-n-bake......because I can't make fried chicken.

I am making homemade French fries, though.

I'm going to eat this meal with Doc and the boys and I'm going to miss you, Mom.

Now, I better go before I burn it.

My Buddy

2009-04-03T12:26:00.003-06:00

My parents have the cutest dog in the world.

He is a cocker spaniel and his name is Buddy.

He is aptly named because he is my dad's buddy. He loves cuddling with him in his favorite chair or sleeping with him in bed.

Buddy is twelve years old now and deaf as a doorknob. (or is it doornail? Whatever.)

He is a barking dog and now that he is older there are times when he doesn't realize that there are people walking their dogs on the street and my parents will get a reprieve from the ferocious barking and snarling of teeth (a little exaggerated, of course, for dramatic purposes).

He will occasionally see the passing car by chance and bark his ever-lovin' head off and I'll hear my mom yell the usual, "Buddy!" and I often wonder if he even hears her. He can still see her face, though, and the firm, no-nonsense look she gives him quiets the dog, but I can tell how hard it is for him not to bark by the continued rumbling in his throat.

While visiting about a week ago, Buddy became my cuddle buddy. This wasn't a good thing, though. That meant Buddy was lieing on the couch next to me. Which wasn't allowed.

Oops.

I should have realized since Mom's couch is white.

White.

Buddy is black as midnight and has fur as soft as the softest stuffed animal. Grumpy would have been pea-green with envy. So, when Buddy jumped onto the couch and snuggled up next to me, I thought he was allowed and it was perfectly fine with me. I enjoyed running my fingers through his silky hair.

So, when Dad told Buddy to get off the couch, I joked, "I'm just his sister. He won't listen to me."

Throughout my visit, Buddy got to be bad. I think that's why he liked me so much. We spent the whole week cuddling together on the couch.

At the end of my visit, Mom took Buddy for a walk and he came in with dirty paws. He immediately jumped onto the couch and left Buddy-size paw prints on her very white couch. Since I was in the kitchen at the time all I heard was, "Buuuudddddyyyyy!!!" in a Mother-is-exasperated-voice.

Poor Buddy. I come to visit and now he's in trouble.

Body Parts

2009-04-03T12:23:00.002-06:00

Sleepy and I were going over body part names this morning.

He asked, "What are these bumpy things on my hands called?"

I said, "They're called knuckles."

"Oh. Where's my chest?"

I pointed to the general area.

He was quiet for a second and then pointed to his head and announced, "And this is my melon!"

Worry Wart

2009-03-30T18:37:00.002-06:00

Our Grumpy is a little worry-wart.

I have probably contributed to this with my own anxiety over certain things.

One of the things that he worries about is gas for the car.

We are always traveling on Sundays and I am always thinking out loud to myself.

One of the things I always need to remind myself about is making sure there is enough gas.

I always seem to be daydreaming and there have been times when I've gasped aloud and wheezed, "I'm almost out of gas!"

My son knows about my notorious absentmindedness and he has probably envisioned all six of us walking down the road looking for the nearest gas station in a blinding blizzard or drenching rain.

It's not a pretty picture.

Now, he is the one who makes sure I am aware of the gas gauge.

Soon after we get in the car, I often hear, "Mom? Do you need gas?" or "Mom! Don't forget to get gas!"

Doc has pointed out to the boy that he is too young to be worrying so much.

Sweet Little Arms

2009-03-30T09:18:00.003-06:00

Doc and the boys have had to contend with a grieving woman in the house since I came back.

Since my grandmother's funeral, I have been a blubbering mess.

Yesterday was awful.

I cried for two hours on the way to church. After Doc's beautiful sermon, I sat on the toilet in one of the bathroom stalls and sobbed. I even had to leave church a little earlier than usual in order to weep almost all the way home.

My family has been witness to this new and different woman and I'm sure they are wanting the old mom and wife back.

At one point, I was sitting on the couch in Doc's office weeping away when Sleepy came in.

He sat next to me and put his arms around me and we cuddled while I talked with Doc.

After a little while, Sleepy looked at me and said, "Mom, you look so beautiful."

I know there will be more days when I will cry for my grandmother and my family that is thousands of miles away, but it helps to have sweet, little arms wrapped around me for comfort.

Spring Break 2009

2009-03-29T17:30:00.002-06:00

I've been away for a week visiting family.

You can tell by the look of my house.

Things have gotten a little messier and certainly crustier.

The boys had their spring break and spent their days being as lazy and carefree as possible.

Because everyone knows that doomsday is approaching and school will begin again so it's time to live it up!

They've had fun watching movies, playing PS2, and whatever sorts of games that boys play.

When I was greeted by them after a week apart, I could tell they needed a little mother's care. Happy wore jeans with gigantic holes in the knees with a shirt that didn't fit. Sleepy and Grumpy wore clothes that didn't match.

I did notice they all had socks on. Which is something.

I'm sure they've driven their father up the wall.

One time, I called and I heard the boys yelling and carrying on in the background. Bashful's shrill voice could be heard yelling, "Shut. UUUUUUP!!"

Doc told me that if he heard Sleepy yell one more time, "Dad! Happy bit me!", he was going to go upstairs and bang their heads together.

Yes. Things have been a little crazy around here without my tender-loving care. (Or you could call me the drill-sergeant.)

Grumpy even has a black eye.

Courtesy of Sleepy.

Are You My Sweetheart?

2009-03-29T17:26:00.003-06:00

This morning, I was sitting in the front row in church with my boys.

I turned to Bashful, took his chin in my hand, and asked, "Are you my sweetheart?"

I'm his mom so I don't care that the kid is 12 years old now and I'm probably seriously weirding him out.

He didn't answer me at first and just kind of grunted.

I wasn't going to take that as an answer and stubbornly asked, "Are you my sweetheart?"

Out of the corner of his mouth, he muttered, "Yes," probably hoping no one was listening.

To embarrass him further, I squealed, "Oh, goodie!" and smothered his face with kisses.

Brain Matter

2009-03-29T17:22:00.002-06:00

We were in the car driving home from the airport.

I had spent the week in WV and Doc and the boys were picking me up.

Sleepy and Happy were telling me what they wanted to be when they grow up.

Happy wants to be an airplane pilot and a firefighter.

Bashful's response was, "Well, you'll be rich, but you'll be so busy your brain will explode."

2009-03-15T18:15:00.002-06:00

I did some cleaning this week.

I went at it with a vengeance.

My kids even noticed and I got a couple comments from Sleepy and Happy.

"Hey, Mom! You went to WalMart and got new stools!" exclaimed Sleepy.
"Uh, no, son. I just cleaned them," I explained drily.
"Oh."

A little while later, Happy became incredulous and yelled, "Mom! You cleaned the stools?!"
"Uh, yes, Happy, I did."

Okay, so I get the hint.

Dog Day Morning

2009-03-10T12:39:00.002-06:00

Monday morning dawned bright and clear as usual here in the semi-desert. It was the day of picking up your dogs from the kennel after being away for the weekend.

I went to get our dysfunctional bowel animal from her home away from home and was greeted with whines and excitement. She is always happy to come back home. Putting her in the backseat, I had to constantly tell her to get out of my face while I was driving.

"Yes, yes. You get to go home now. Good doggie. No! Get out of my face, dog! Okay, it'll be alright. Good girl."

After I filled the tank with gas, I turned toward home and I ended up behind a pickup truck with two beautiful yellow labs standing in the truckbed.

I commented to Leigh about the two nice doggies and how pretty they were, but she didn't seem too impressed with them.

A little ways down the road, I was chatting with the dog (don't ask me why) when my eyes were riveted on the truck flying down the road in front of me.

I never thought I'd see the day, but one of those yellow labs did a somersault out of the truckbed, and rolled over and over on the side of the road creating a cloud of dirt.

By the time the dog had finished rolling around and stood up, the owner had hit the brakes. Thankfully, the dog looked fine to me if a little dazed.

I'm sure I made a comical impression with my mouth wide open yelling, "Oh, my gosh!" over and over again.

I may have yelled at our dog and okay, so maybe I have spanked her, too, (I have since learned that doesn't work....at all) but I can say she has never fallen out of my car.

Of course, that's not to say that won't ever happen either.

Little Rabbit Foo-Foo

2009-03-10T12:30:00.004-06:00

We were cuddling in my favorite chair by the window enjoying the view of the mountains when Happy announced to me, "I don't like bunnies."

This was surprising to me since he is always outside looking for them in the bunny-made burrows in the bluffs behind our house.

His brother, Grumpy, is always sticking up for the plant-eating creatures and whenever I tease him about getting out the BB gun, he is always ready with a quick and panicky response about how he thinks of that notion.

Bashful even wants a bunny for a pet which I've adamantly informed the child, "Never, ever, ever." (I also said this about the dog, the cat, and the birds, but look how that worked out.)

So, I gave Happy a squeeze and asked him why he doesn't like bunnies. He replied, "I like eagles better. I think the eagles need to come and eat the bunnies."

Well, okay then.

Leave Taking

2009-03-09T15:32:00.002-06:00

Our little Happy is quite the little worry-wort.

Last Saturday, I left to take Grumpy to his basketball game. Happy watched Grumpy and me very carefully as we put on our shoes and walked out the door. I kissed him and told him I would be back later.

A little while after I left, Doc put his shoes on to go outside and get the mail. Happy seems to be under the impression that whenever Daddy puts his shoes on, he is going to church.

So, when Doc put his shoes on, Happy thought he was leaving. He said, "Mommy left with Caleb. If you go to church, I be scared."