he's four.

Caleb at four:



Mario brothers = life.

Chocolate milk = nectar of the Gods

Grammie and Pop's house = Heaven

Bank drive thru = sugar!!

Seeing a McDonald's = instant hunger

Hailey = contention

Mom's cooking = something to be avoided at all costs

Why Johnny Cash had to die = most fascinating topic of conversation

Screaming all aboard when entering the mini van = his internship for future employment.

Making people laugh = essential

Naps = a necessary evil

Most frequently asked, burning question = How does water move?

Cuddling with mom = favorite nighttime activity.





Caleb turned four yesterday, and we partied.



We partied in the yard. We partied at Ikea. We partied at the bowling lanes. We partied at McDonald's. We partied like we were four years old and it was our birthday. We partied because Caleb is four and you can't freeze time. Four is an age that flies by and before you know it all you have is a blog with a bunch of words that make up all the little memories that you don't want to forget.

Is it just me?

Ever have one of those nights?



The kind where your baby is being very cute and you decide to sit down and capture some sweetness?




Things are going well, when suddenly...



The other children come?

And those other children seem to have snorted some kind of illegal substance and are running around like tiny crack addicts? That ever happen to anyone else?



And the craziest crack headed child is screaming... "I'm N A K E D!!!" Like it's some kind of freedom cry?
And the other crazies are running and they are chasing and they are making your ears bleed with a screaming that only crazy crack addicted-like children can make, causing your head to split open and your ears to bleed spontaneously? Is that just me?



And you look at your watch praying for salvation which can only come in the form of bedtime and see 8:00PM! Its here! At last! It's here! And you turn and loudly announce it is bed time. You ignore the instant protests, and whines, and moans and you tell the crazy crack head child screaming proudly about his indecent exposure to society and you tell him, sternly, that he needs to get his clothes on. You've been here right?

Then you get this:



And your child knows when its time to obey and he does. But he doesn't have to like it. So then you move on to another situation.
The crying. The drama on and on.
All the while cuddling a beloved ball.
Sound familiar?




The baby, the adorable subject in the beginning, looses interest in you and crawls over to the crying crazy, and you think, "how sweet... the baby is going to be a comforter... and he does:




he gently taps his brother somewhat calming him.




And then, quickly, before anyone can realize it, he swipes the ball away from his crying brother like some kind of con artist prodigy.



You know what I am talking about, right? Then you, silently laughing, realize that being a parent to these crazy, drug addicted, hoodlums has got to be the most entertaining thing on this planet?




Don't you love it when that happens?

Why am I here?

This is a post about nothing. Be warned.

Ever since I started my picture a day blog, (which I am amazed to say I have made it 76 days straight!) I have slacked a little on this one. Why?

Because its hard to have multiple blogs to post on, multiple children to care for, multiple church callings, multiple craft-ish projects going, and multiple personalities.

It's just a lot of work, really. But I do what I can when I can. Why do I keep it up?

Because I like to think and write. No editing, no filtering. I just write what I think. And it's usually random. And strange. And yes, sarcastic.
But it's also
Honest and real and full of all the little things about my life right now at this moment, and I love that I can sort of write it in stone. Because all those little things don't last. And neither will my memory. So these little meaningless blog posts will be priceless to me one day.

And to you all who read my random thoughts,
I am both sorry and thankful. I am well aware my life isn't glamorous, or exciting, or even all that interesting. When I read my posts, I wonder why people read this blog at all.

Then I remember that watching people make an idiot out of themselves on reality tv shows always makes me feel better about myself, and then I realize what's happening here, and I don't wonder anymore.

it's time for another list...

These are things that don't make sense to me:

Snow in March.

Snow in March on a day when the kids are out of school.

Snow in March on a day when the kids are out of school and at each other's throats.

How sleeping in until 7:30 is like a total luxury to me.

The way I can manage to be the BEST MOM EVER!!!! and the WORST PARENT EVER!!! all within 5 minutes time.

Celebrities that jump on a political soap box to encourage us to do our civic duty and vote (which I whole heartily believe), but then get busted for not paying their taxes for YEARS.

Lady Gaga

How buffalo wings got their name. I mean, the seasoning on those wings does NOT taste like a buffalo. TRUST ME.

The hype about the book Eat, Pray, Love.

The hype around in and out burger.

A man's ability to sleep through the sounds of crying children.

How you go through something crappy and you know you were supposed to learn something from it and you do, but then you find yourself going through the same thing a few years later. (does that make any sense?)

Why Hailey's shots hurt sometimes.

The way I sing patty cake. Makes no sense at all.

Why children's lullabies are so morbid.

And finally....

Snow in March.


Did I say that already?

the necessary evil

I will let you in on a little secret. Feeding a family of 6 is EXPENSIVE.
Seriously. It's like twice as much as a family of three. I'm serious!
Another well kept secret is that budgets suck. They suck because ours is always impossibly small.
I am always looking for ways to cut the costs. Like showing up on someone's doorstep just in time for a meal and waiting to be invited. Then I take home their left-overs. Two meals for free!
Okay, I don't do that because it's TACKY.
I look for ways to cut costs the un-tacky and kind way.

I go to Walmart.

I hate Walmart.

I feel like I am cheating on Target every time I go, but Shopping for groceries at Target is for those people who shop at Nordstrom's for kid's clothes. Not me.

Groceries at Walmart are cheap. You can get most of your favorite brands for cheaper than most places, but they also have their own brand "Great Value". And it usually is.

There are lots of Great Value things we have in our home.
Peanut butter, flour, sugar, dish soap, cereals, pretzels, fruit snacks, diapers, baby food, formula, the list goes on.

So the other day, I was in the chip isle. I had previously been informed that it is wrong for a kid to not get chips in their lunch and I was there to rectify the situation.

We have bought the Great Value BBQ and sour cream and onion chips and the kids happily munch them.

Today I saw they had Great Value Cheese crunches and Great Value Cheese Puffs, Cheetos! My kids LOVE Cheetos. Each bag was $1.50. A seriously good deal for Cheetos. I grabbed one of each and proudly brought them home.

I cracked open the bag the next day filled little baggies for the kids and at lunch time, put a handful of them on Caleb's plate. Now, Caleb is a Cheetos maniac. He asks for them in the middle of the night. He carries them with him home from the grocery store gently caressing the bag like we are heading home from the pet store with a puppy.

And Caleb said they were gross.

Interested I grabbed one and ate it and

SPIT IT OUT.

DISGUSTINGLY gross. Inedibley gross. The kids came home and said something was wrong with their Cheetos. I gave them to Brian and he said to screw the $3.00 and throw them out. We are not THAT broke.

Great Value didn't turn out to be such a value this time.

Another tack on the board of reasons to hate walmart:




Crappy Cheetos.

happiness

March 1.

I love the sound/look of that.
March.
Spring.
Sunshine.
Lack of snow.
Kids playing outside, as opposed to killing each other and torturing me inside.
The month where I pack away the gloves and the heavy coats and the snow boots.
The month in which I get another year older and infinitely wiser. (is that even possible?!)
The month where a wild and crazy three year old, becomes an even wilder and crazier four year old. (is that even possible?!)
The month where spending an afternoon at the park can become an option.
The month where I have a desire to organize EVERYTHING.

Happy March.

The only downside to this month is the whole "Spring forward" thing.
I detest loosing an hour of sleep.
I think it's criminal to do to mothers.

Don't you?