Rugrats and Dirty Rugs

Doc and I have actually been tweeking with the idea of going on a date. I know. Totally weird. Not the idea of doing something romantic. It's the idea that we actually might have the guts to dump our offspring on some unsuspecting person. This has always been a hard decision for us to make. I mean, we do watch the news and let's face it, we're paranoid. That's probably why we haven't been on a real date that didn't include scarfing down our food as fast as we can and running back home to see if it's still standing and no one is bleeding. Just the other day, I asked Doc, "So, are we going out for Chinese tonight?" I was crossing my fingers mentally, chewing on my lip. I so wanted to be irresponsible. We haven't been on a date in forever and I was craving Chinese like crazy. I suggested that our 13-year-old son get a chance to hold down the fort for a couple hours. I even turned on my sexy voice and said, "We'll have our cell phone with

You know you have a toddler when: 1. Your work is interrupted by intermittent screaming. 2. You hide in your bathroom in order to get some peace and quiet. 3. Your house looks like a war-zone. 4. Stanley Steemer is your friend. 5. The thought of the toddler's personal bathroom is not a good thought. 6. You cripple your feet stepping on toys that are strewn throughout the house despite threatening the child's life if he even thinks of taking toys out of his room. 7. Your refrigerator light goes out thanks to the child's constant opening of the door.....and then leaving it open for who knows how long. 8. You feel guilty for leaving your home even to go to the grocery store because he was crying as you left the house. 9. Fenceless swimming pools give you the creeps. 10. Five minutes after you mop the kitchen floor, you find oatmeal strewn all over it.

I never dreamed I would one day homeschool my children. Growing up, I thought that homeschool was just a weird concept and that homeschooled kids were a little off. Then I grew up and learned differently. If the homeschool kids are a little off then that's because the parents are. I mean, they would have to be to want to teach all of their children themselves. Take me, for instance. Whenever I am introduced to people and they find out that I homeschool my children and that I have five boys, their reactions are always the same. Complete and utter thankfulness that it's not them. I do wonder if I am doing the right thing or just plain crazy. There are subjects that I love to teach like History and Literature, but I'd rather put a stake in my heart than do a science experiment or math. I love teaching my sons, but sometimes the burden of their education sits too heavily on my back. There are a lot of mornings when I get out of bed still in the fetal position. I question myse

It's amazing how all my boys come from the same womb, but they are so different from each other. These differences manifest themselves in different ways, but the most recent was during a movie. I was desperate for some quiet time and decided to pop in a movie for the youngest ones hoping it would work. Sometimes, movies just don't do it for my little ones. I turned on the movie and tiptoed away. So far so good. I grabbed my current book and hopped into bed, snickering. Oh, yeah. It's me time. A couple chapters later, I realize it's too quiet. Is the movie actually working? Are they really watching it? No way. So, putting on my spy face, I tiptoe to the door and peek around the corner. If they really are watching it, I don't want to disturb anything. After all, I'm in a crucial part of my book. There they were. The three of them. All glued to the screen. After watching the adorable scene they made together, I started noticing the part of the movie they

One of the banes of my life are vacuums. I don't even know if I'm spelling it correctly half the time. I hate the dang things, and they even go out of their way to be hard to spell. I even had to google it to make sure. I know I speak of them as if they are more than inanimate objects, but I really think they have their own personality. They love to make it hard on me. Personally, I think they are all hypochondriacs. I have to be very careful with them or wham! They are refusing to work for me unless I get out the band-aids. Every few years, we have to buy a new vacuum.....and the good ones don't come cheap, either. In my house, we need a really good vacuum I can trust because this is no run-of-the-mill carpet we are talking about. It's the kind that has boys, dogs, cats, and clumsy adults using it. Our last vacuum bit the dust a few days ago after only a few years of use. The last few weeks of its life I had to have Sleepy or Happy sit on it in order to produce e

Our cute, little booger is being potty-trained now. Oh, joy. I hate potty-training. To me, there's nothing cute about it. It's a nasty, disgusting business and I'd rather it pass by without me having to do with it. The nasty, disgusting part is really not the part that I hate the most. It's the fact that I have to get off my patoosky every stinking hour to place the cute, little patoosky on the potty chair. Let's face it, I'd rather be doing something else. He is the last one, though, so I will prevail in this. I must or the child will be using my floor for a potty chair for years to come. Case in point. Sneezy came to me with a soiled diaper telling me that he "poot". I don't know why I didn't believe him. Maybe because I didn't smell it, but I took his diaper off thinking there were no surprises. Well, that surprise plopped out onto my carpet and I gasped in shock with my jaw to the floor. Since Sneezy was standing in close proximity