So Much For That

Once again, my love/hate relationship with The Weather Channel continues.  I know that weather science isn't an exact science (although by definition, if it's science it should be exact) but it must really be humiliating to be 100% WRONG!  Seriously.

On our way home from our night away, my mom texted to "get home before the snow".  Ooookaaay.  How much are we going to get?  12"!!  Right.  My response?  "I'll believe it when I see it."  Guess what?  I didn't see it.  Not even 1/4".  Not so much as a dusting!  There may have been a flake or two flying around but they got it completely wrong!  Even up in the mountains where they DID get snow, it was gone before the warning was even half way over!!  All that hype, not a roll of toilet paper or a loaf of bread to be found at the grocery stores and here I sit wearing my sunglasses.  Boneheads.

In other news...I bought a second-hand jogging stroller!  If the weather can be trusted (HAHAHAHA!!!) I might take it out for a run tomorrow morning with Little One in tow.  She is going to absolutely LOVE it and I'm looking forward to the verbal encouragement (Faster, Mommy, Faster!!).  It's not perfect but considering I didn't pay much for it if I even use it for the rest of this school year it was worth it. 

Also coming up is my pajama party (because I turned 40 yesterday), and there's a lot of work left to be done.  Since I'm sure you're just dying to know what we're doing, I decided on breakfast/brunch foods (muffins, scones, breakfast casseroles, breads, cinnamon rolls, etc.) and I made flower pens which I'm going to tie around a set of recipe cards for all of the yummy dishes we're serving up and give those out as favors.  I'm still trying to decide what to do with all of the kids I'm expecting but I just hope everyone has a good time.  I can't wait to check out everyone's pj's - both the ones they're wearing and the ones they're donating!  Woot!  Baby Girl is helping me to decorate a box for the donations - which will be a fun bonding project for us, I think, as she's my artist.  I can't wait!  I'll update with photos as soon as I can.

And...post birthday party, I'm going to break all of my own rules and sign up for Facebook.  The lure of Pinterest is just too great!  I can't take the pressure!

First Time for Everything

For the first time since we had 4 children, we left them alone overnight.  We went to a wedding for a co-worker of Mr. MOTH's and spent the night in the middle of nowhere (technically, this is no different than spending the night at home as we live in the middle of nowhere).  For the record, I wore the dress from the fitting room debacle of several weeks ago ($12!).  It was nice to see some of the folks I remember from my lab rat days (especially when they told me I looked exactly the same!) and I also enjoyed meeting the new folks (most of them).  I rarely see my husband in this environment and it cracked me up to see him embarrassed when they teased him about his new office (this is a big deal in that environment - the cubicles aren't even really cubicles but more like a large desk with half walls). 
Overall it was a fun evening but I had to agree with Mr. MOTH when he said (no less than 7 times), "This is nice but I'd rather be home with the kids."  Me, too, dear.  Me, too.

And tomorrow I turn 40.

Easter in Pictures

The Easter Bunny gets trickier every year at our house. At least if you're an older kid. Little One found her basket next to the end table:

Youngest Boy's was on the back of the toilet (and was the last one found):

Baby Girl's was under the kitchen table:Oldest Boy's was at the top of the basement stairs:

We all made it to Mass and survived (even though it went long). God Bless the lady sitting next to us who kept entertaining Little One.
We had lunch/dinner at my parents (Grandma and Papa) and got to love on Baby V:
Then we came home to an Easter egg hunt set up by the neighbor "girls" and their dog, Bean. I say "girls" but they're in their late teens and early twenties now. They get a big kick out of our kids, though:

It Started Out As A Compliment

Last Thursday, Mr. MOTH got to watch the Pens beat up on the Rangers (that's hockey, yinz guys). It was a last-minute thing - a "guys' night" if you will, something he's absolutely NEVER done since we've been married. It was so last minute that I had to bring him a change of clothes at work (yes, two hours round-trip, with 4 kids). We were originally schedule to have movie night and then sleep out in the living room (the kids think this is the biggest deal! Don't worry, we rescheduled and did it Friday) but instead we watched the game to see if we could spot Daddy.

Baby Girl thought she spied him and shouted, "I saw a striped shirt!" Then, "No wait. We need to look for a striped shirt (gestures down her torso), short, dark hair (runs her fingers around her ears), and glasses (makes glasses with her finger and thumb)." This is all said like the rest of us somehow forgot what he looked like! LOL!

As we're watching, an ad pops up in the bottom of the screen for something. I was in the kitchen preparing snacks, so I only caught a quick glimpse but I think it was Anne Hathaway:

Anyhow, Oldest Boy yells from in front of the TV, "Mommy! That looks JUST like you!!" Feeling flattered, I said, "You think that looks like me?!?!" Oldest Boy said, "Yeah! When you were much younger!" My ego deflated a bit on that, but then Youngest Boy threw in his two cents, "And much, much thinner!!" And my ego bottomed out somewhere around my toes.

Of course, I told my mom this story and, thinking she would somehow try to cheer me up, said, "Well, dear, Anne Hathaway IS really thin!" Thanks, Ma.

My Version

Growing up, I had several children in my class whose families owned a business. Because of the obvious affiliation, we made a field trip to those family businesses as a class every.single.year. Field trips are awesome, right? Well, sure, they get you out of class and all, but these field trips were...smelly.

First we would head to a chicken farm known around the area for egg production. Do you know what chickens smell like? Let's just say it's NOT like Chicken Parmesan or even nuggets. It's more like...uh...farm. I don't remember a single other thing aside from the aroma. Oh, and I remember several of my classmates losing their lunch. And I'm not talking about the brown bag we were required to bring along.

Next up was the cheese factory. Now, this one might not be as obvious to those who have never been to one but again, it does NOT smell like cheddar! It's more like fermenting milk with a side of curd thrown in. Not.Good.

A child in my Oldest Boy's class (one of his best buds, as a matter of fact) is the son of a baker. Guess where his class gets to go for a field trip? That's right. A bakery. (This bakery, if you're in the area)I would have given my right arm to get the chance to go some place that smelled like baked goods instead of the god-forsaken aroma that we were made to endure.

And I had to walk up-hill to school. Both ways. In snow up to my eyeballs. Through blistering heat. I was lucky to have shoes!

Now, get off my lawn!

What's A Bunny To Do?

I mentioned several weeks ago that Youngest Boy has been having some belly issues. While we still don't have any answers (although we DO have a nice bill from the hospital) we mostly suspect that chocolate is his problem. I don't want to call it an allergy but it definitely does something to his delicate system. We see a specialist the day after Easter (mental note: call Aunt Jo - the other kids are all off that day) and I'm hoping she won't order any more seemingly unnecessary tests but I'm willing to trust her.

Easter is coming up FAST. I absolutely ADORE Easter. It's easily my favorite holiday - spiritually, emotionally, decorationally (is that a word?), tastefully it's just my all around favorite. I give up sweets for Lent (although this might be the last year for THAT) so around the day after Ash Wednesday I start dreaming about what I'm going to bake for Easter morning - cinnamon rolls, mini raspberry cheesecakes, fudge, butter cookies, sunflower cake (a yellow cake iced with chocolate frosting - put yellow peeps around the outside and fill in the middle with chocolate chips!), peanut butter Easter eggs, white chocolate Easter eggs - I get so excited! And of course, I get to be The Bunny.

Around here, The Bunny is pretty cheap. The baskets are filled to bursting with grass...and there's some candy and eggs in there somewhere. There's always a book (because we love to read and so do they) and usually some small toy or art supply, depending on the kid. I'm a little annoyed at how every store that sells toys is showing you some "must-have" Easter basket loot. Um, no. That ain't what Easter's about. And in our house, it never will be. Christmas - fine, although I still fight the good fight on that, too. But Easter is a CHRISTIAN holiday - the ultimate one in my humble opinion - and I refuse to cave.

Of course, this year The Bunny is stumped as to what to put in the baskets in the way of candy. Youngest Boy clearly can't have a chocolate bunny. Or chocolate eggs. Or chocolate...anything. He hates peanut butter. And I don't know if he likes jelly beans (What? I have a choking phobia, remember? We've never had them). He does love marshmallows, so even though he's never had peeps I'm hoping he'll LOVE them so much he won't care that they might be the only sweet in his basket. I'm preparing myself to overcompensate. {SIGH} Poor guy.

It's Official

I'm an idiot.

After my debacle on Tuesday, I should have just called it a week and assumed I would continue to make a fool of myself. Yesterday topped the dress mess, though.

I was cooking dinner (chicken soup from leftover crockpot chicken, since you asked) and I had to empty the garbage can. Sidenote: the garbage was full of food products, including scraps from the soup and the entire meal from the night before (tuna cakes. Not good. If you know how my MIL made tuna cakes can you call me RIGHT NOW because my husband is making me crazy requesting them). I opened the garage door, tossed the kitchen bag into the large cans with black bags in them - empty, I might add, since it was garbage day - and went about finishing dinner and feeding the kids (who, turns out, hate chicken noodle soup).

I then decided I would put the bag of clothes I was giving to a family at the school into the Space Shuttle because I knew I would see them at Mass this morning (the priest is being re-assigned and Youngest Boy made sure to ask me to be there. I think he was afraid he would be sad and wanted to make sure I would be able to comfort him.). I opened the garage door and started to walk around to the back of the van when I noticed a white kitchen bag on the floor of the garage with scratch marks on the side. This bag had not been there when we got home from school. The only bag I knew of in the garage was the one I had just thrown into the big, black can. Hmmmm. I freaked the frickety frack out. I mean, it had to be something REALLY FRICKIN' BIG to be able to get that bag out. I bolted into the house and called Mr. MOTH. He just loves when I call him in a panic. Especially when I'm using my super-loud, super-squeaky voice. I could NOT make him understand what had happened. He was not grasping that there was a HUGE MONSTROUS BEAST in the garage - maybe a bear! Or a panther! At LEAST a mountain lion! COME HOME RIGHT NOW OMG WE'RE GOING TO BE EATEN! ACK! HURRRRRYYYYY!

I finally decided I would just call my dad and have him tell me what it most likely was (my husband? He's not much of an outdoorsman. Or an animal lover. Or a country boy.). Problem? Dad's not home. Called his sister - Aunt E - because she can put any outdoorsman I know to shame. She said most likely a racoon would do something like that. I suggested maybe a cat? Possible. I was going with cat. Cute. Furry. Kitty cat. Phew! Much better than HUGE MONSTROUS BEAST!

Mr. MOTH called back and we formulated a plan. He would park in the driveway and open the door. I would come out through the front door and act as back-up (read: hide behind him ready to run for help at the first sign of trouble). He opened the door and saw the bag. We stared at it for awhile. I said, "Honey, something is IN that bag! I can see black at the top! I KNOW I put the celery on the top! AAACCCKKK!"

But the bag was oddly still considering it had a racoon in it. Or a kitty cat. Or a HUGE MONSTROUS BEAST! We inched closer. A bit closer. I said, "Are you SURE you didn't throw a white bag away this morning? Or maybe last night after you bagged every thing up? Was there anything else in a bag in the garage?" Mr. MOTH said, "Well, just that bag of Christmas wreaths and lights that you left out there. I tossed it up on top of the shelves and..."

The lightbulb came on. Yes, my friends, I was afraid of a bag of Christmas lights. I'm scarred for life. We'll never be able to decorate the outside of our house again. Maybe it would've been better if it had been a HUGE MONSTROUS BEAST! Because I love Christmas.