Train Wreck

Waking up hours before your alarm goes off should automatically issue little warning signals in my brain. I however was oblivious to this fact and just thought I was start tackling the day earlier. I spent a little more time in the shower and was grateful that Daniel was not yet awake to play peek-a-boo from behind the shower curtain. The twins were snug in their beds and my hard working husband was sawing logs. I took the time to even shave my legs knowing that mornings like this don't happen often. Upon exiting the bathroom, ready to dress for church I could hear the twins in the bonus room fighting over something, Daniel was in my bed eating a slice of bread, and hubby was muttering something to the affect of "I can't wait until Monday". I quickly dressed then headed into the closets and pulled out mini suits, dresses, and sweaters for church. After we were all dress (with the exception of Daniel, he dresses after breakfast) we sat around the table eating cereal. I packed my bag, loaded with "lunchables" and toys to entertain the kids while I (try) to listen to the talks being offered during church. As I combed Michael's hair, cleaned his glasses, he attached his CTR pin and then headed off to get his church shoes. Rebecca had her hair braided then ribbons tied at the ends all while Daniel was getting dressed, or so I thought. Hubs calls me to the living room where he shows me Daniel has broken out in hives and can't stop itching his arms, face, and his head. So we give him the usual shot of anti-histamine and kiss hubs goodbye as we head out the door. We were leaving at 10:30am so I was tickled pink that we were making good time. (Church starts at 11:00am and we only live 5 minutes away. What can I say, I have a need to be early for everything.)
Driving to church, I really just was feeling uncomfortable. We pull into the parking lot, I take off my seat belt, making sure my binder is in my hot little hands when...I realized, I'm not wearing a bra. Thank goodness I didn't get out of the car and "bounce" my way into the chapel with my three little munchins in tow. I get the kids to sit back down and buckle up and I drove back home. Hubs was quite shocked to see me run back into the house and asks whats wrong. I "bounce" upstairs where I find my trusty titsling , and come back downstairs. Hubs, here is something you can tease me about...I went to church without a bra.
I left him laughing and still made it to church on time.

I have to get kids into bed but I promise to continue the story of my train wreck later.

Thank You

I have often written little notes to my kids that I send in their lunch boxes. I even do this for my husband cause who doesn't like a little love note or kind words from your Mom? Monday this week I slipped a little note in their lunch kids and sent them off for the day. Becca came home with hers but Michael didn't. No big deal, my daughter keeps everything and knowing Michael he lost it.
Today while picking up the kids from school, Michael's teacher asked to talk to me in private. She takes me to her desks and shows me the note that I had wrote him. She goes on the tell me that there were two Mom's in the class yesterday and that they both pointed to the piece of paper and told her she HAD to look at it. She wonders over to his desks and on the back of my little note he printed: fack you.

Yep, clearly and in his best printing...fack you.

I wanted to DIE. We don't say those things in our house! Where did he learn this and why was he writing it down??

His teacher then explained how she was ready to haul his little butt down to the principle office. She then read it again. Using her pure grade one teacher cool, calm and collected persona she had this conversation:

T-Michael, what does this say?
M-Thank you
T-Oh, what does thank you start with?
M-F

So you see, my son isn't a cursing grade one terrorist. I have kept the little note. It will be shown proudly right beside Becca's Princess Leia from pre-school.

Ironman

A few weeks ago we purchased Michael his very first pair of eyeglasses. He looks so cute and he has been very good about wearing them all the time. Today he came home from school and he didn't have them on.

Me-Michael where are your glasses?

M-In my backpack.

Me-Why aren't they on your face? (I'm opening the case at this point.)

M-I...I...they...don't fit...right?

Me-(While holding an oddly shaped pair of glasses) What happened?

M-I bent them.

Me-I can see that, how?

M-I held them like this and squeezed. (His hands are on the side of the lenses.)

Me-I think you should go upstairs...right now...I need to think about this for a while.

M-I'm going to hide now.

Me-Don't hide cause we are going to talk about this.

M-Okay.

I spent the next half an hour, fuming, thinking, then laughing at the situation. He's six. When we bought him the glasses I fully expected to be replacing them at some point. I however didn't expect that he would test his Ironman strength on them. Thankfully the nice lady at Costco was able to shape them back to fit his face.

Dangerous Demon's

I was in Walmart yesterday and they had these on sale.

Lets just say the box was attacked by some crazed lady who couldn't get enough of them. (And I don't even like Oreo's!)

Living a Legacy

As a young girl my Grandma always called me Lady J. To this day I am still not sure if I want to know the reason why. It was a term she used when she was mad and I was going to get into trouble. (Which was often!) The sound of her voice pronouncing those simple words were enough to make a small girl very afraid. Years have passed and during the past five years I have come to cherish them. Being called Lady J from her now has such a different meaning for me, it is love not hate.

This is my online journal, my journey, my legacy.