Holy Guacamole!

Those are the words my youngest son utters when he gets excited about something. When I let him have a treat he says "whoopee!" I'm not sure where he learned either one of these phrases, but every time I hear them, I can't help but smile.
So, to quote Cannon, "Holy Guacamole and Whoppee!" Claire bear slept through the night.

Christmas cards

I have nothing of importance to say today. I am just feeling the guilt at not having updated for weeks. I am a blog slacker. I am however impressed with the other things I have accomplished in the past few weeks. The one I am most impressed with is the mailing of my Christmas cards. This is a fight every year with the professor. He gets frustrated that I even attempt. His reasoning being that out of the 10 Christmases we have shared together, I have actually mailed out all my Christmas cards exactly never. Some years I get some cards mailed, while the others get filed away after Christmas. Other years I buy all the items I need but never finish making the cards. Some years I get the cards made, addressed, and even stamped, but fail to make it to the post office. Last year I even accepted defeat early by buying cheap cards, and reasoning that if I didn't get them sent, I was only out a couple bucks. I didn't get them sent. You can understand his impatience with this yearly tradition. But this year was different. I went to great lengths to buy matching shirts, have someone take our picture, buy photo paper to go with the new printer, cut, glue, and tie cards together for not only our family, but also friends, old and new. This took, from start to finish, about 2 weeks. I could see the skepticism in his eyes as I worked on them. His head would shake when I told him I was just about done. A "Whatever" came out of his mouth as I put them in my purse and headed to buy stamps. I don't think he actually believes I mailed them, by the 15th of December no less. But, I did. This was a personal victory. I started and finished my Christmas cards. I can be responsible and trusted with this job. However, if I was you, I would keep this years' card for next Christmas. It might be a few more years before you see another one.

One-handed

One reason I haven't posted much as of late-it's hard to type one-handed. Seeing as I have a small bundle in one arm, it leaves only one hand to punch out keys, which is waaaaaaay too slow a way to type. Today however, I have mastered holding an infant and using both hands. I just hope she doesn't fall off my shoulders.

Other things I can now do one handed-
Open a can of soda without spilling it on her
Sign my name
Cook spaghetti
Brush Emme's hair(she doesn't like it when I do this)
Make lunches for the kids
Drive(Settle down, I'm not holding her, just keeping her binky in while she sits in her carseat)

Yesterday I had one of those moments every mother lives for, when you finally get a glimpse of your children being kind, helpful, and well-behaved, all at the same time. Those moments are fleeting, and need to be cherished. We were at the store, the smallest needed to be held, her brother just woke up cranky from a nap, and the two eldest had just arrived home from a long day at school. It had all the ingredients for a disaster. But the elder brother took his little brother by the hand, and my daughter took the shopping basket. I told her what to put in, while the two boys went to the bathroom. She checked me out at the selfscan, the boys came back and carried the bags to the car. They did all this without arguing over who got to do what and their baby sister got a chance to be comforted to sleep.
Candy seemed like such a small reward for their efforts, but it was well received.

I know, I know

I'm still here.
Things that have happened or will be happening-
I officially turned 30 last month.
My oldest is going to be 9 in a week.
My baby gained almost 3 pounds.
My ten year anniversary is in a few weeks.
We decorated for Christmas Thanksgiving weekend (a first).
I am back to running.

And a picture of the kiddies on Santa's lap for those of you desperate to revel in the beauty of my children. Please keep in mind that I am no Liz, and I do not have photoshop, and that my digital camera sucks.

Candy

I recently figured out how to add pictures to my blog. It wasn't that it was difficult, I just never got around to it. So you will be inundated with photos of my children now. Aren't you lucky? I just don't know how to make them rotate. So turn your heads to the side and admire my kids.
Here was Halloween last week. I went out and bought Claire a pumpkin hat, mainly because it was her first holiday and I wanted a picture of her in a costume, and unfortunately no other costumes came close to fitting her. She is so tiny now, something I am treasuring. The other children were so excited to go trick-or-treating, and since Dad was working, I took them all. I am amazed at how much candy they got after just one and a half blocks. Not only that, but out of all the candy, only 2 Reese's PB cups. I secretly went through their stashes while they were gone and took anything of value. 1 Almond Joy, a few Snickers, the aforementioned PB cups, M&M's both mini and regular, some Starbursts, and some Skittles. I am reminded as to why I will not lose any of my baby weight until after the holidays. Oh well. The children, odd as they are, pick out all of the suckers and hard candy. That is the type of sweet treats what they love. Those and Tootsie Rolls. Ughh. I find it hard to believe we're related.

Claire Mikel

Our sweet pea

Grades, Kids, and Treats

It's official, I'm done with my Microbiology class and I'm pretty sure I'm a few points away from a B. Now, my husband would say something to the effect of, "Doesn't it bother you that if you had just turned in that one assignment, you could've gotten a B? Or even if you had just studied a little harder for the final? " (It's the teacher in him and I forgive him for it.) I convinced myself yesterday that I did not care that much about it. I do not like Microbiology, I find it completely uninteresting, and I am just glad to be done. But I woke up this morning with a sick feeling in my stomach, 10 points away from a B. And I haven't gotten a C in college that I can remember, (unless you count the Art History class I took straight out of high school over at MCC with my sister and I don't think we showed up very often for it.) Since it is an online class, I can't convince the instructor to give me a little boost for participation and hard work. They go strictly by points. I'm was considering using the whole pregnancy thing, hoping to maybe get a break, but I feel dirty all over just thinking about it. So I will accept my grade and try to come to terms with the fact that I could have done better. Oh well.

In other news, no baby yet but my doc told me if she's not here by the first of November, they'll induce. That's only a week and a half away. I can't wait to see her, and I also can't wait to go running again.

We bought Chance a costume, an expensive Star Wars clone trooper costume. I almost said no, but the thought of having to homemake a costume nudged me into a yes. He loves it and I don't have to try to figure out how to duplicate General Grievous.

Cannon has loved having his brother and sister home all week due to fall break. He's quite adept at entertaining himself when they're at school, doing puzzles, playing with cars, reading books, watching Curious George. But it's been adorable to see how much he looks up to his siblings, following them everywhere and wanting to be involved with everything they are doing. I hope he's as patient with his baby sister.

Finally, rice krispy treats are more addicting than crack. My mother-in-law made some for me yesterday, I'm sure assuming I would share with the family. The pan is almost gone and I don't intend to let anyone else in on them. Let them eat Chips Ahoy, this treat's for me.

Henchman

Chance wanted to know how much a henchman costs. I ask him to look it up on his videogame, thinking that is what he is talking about. He says no, he wants a real henchman. Confused, I ask what he means by henchman. "You know, someone to do my chores and carry my stuff and drive me around, like Batman has," he says. Ohhhhh, he meant a butler. I hold in my laugh and tell him that a butler would cost a lot, more than his $2.50 weekly allowance. He tells me that he'll split it with me. Sorry kid, more than that. He tells me that when he grows up, he wants to be rich enough to hire a henchman, er butler.

Words of Wisdom

The other day my family and I were in the car when, as usual, the kids started acting silly and out of control. Mike and I, trying to have a conversation, ignored it as long as we could until I remind them that they need to quiet down. Nothing. I say it again. It's like I'm invisible. Finally Mike asks them what happens when they get out of control and act crazy, and all three of my children quiet down and answer, in unison no less, "Something gets broken or someone gets hurt." I look at my husband in disbelief, while he just grins. When did the children not only listen to him, but take the time to memorize the oft used phrase so that they could repeat it back? I am amazed and a little jealous. I want a saying.
A couple days later it happens again. Chance is trying to do something with his new videogame and is having a hard time. He comes into our bedroom and complains that he can't do it, it's just too hard. Mike asks him what are the two things he can do. Chance answers, "Give up or keep trying." Mike asks which he is going to do, and he says, "Keep trying." He goes back to try again, while I just shake my head. My husband is a Confucious of parental wisdom, while I'm just the lady who tells them to clean their rooms.

Ready, Set, ...Stop

I am ready. Up until a few days ago, namely Sunday, I was not even close to being ready. But here I am, a few short days later, waiting impatiently for this baby. Why, you might ask, am I so impatient when she's not even due for another 4 weeks? That would be because of all the painful contractions I've been having for 5 days. 5 days of thinking, is this it?
I started by picking up the girls' room, putting away all the baby clothes and blankets in the shelves Mike built last weekend. I even hung stuff on the walls. It now looks official.
I then took the cleaning to the other rooms upstairs. I put random things away, cleaned out drawers, organized toys and books. Downstairs got the same treatment. I put together the baby swing, put the carseat in the car along with the stroller, wrote and sent all my thank yous, finished my homework early, stocked the freezer with pizzas, chicken fingers and french fries, packed her bag, packed my bag, had the carpets cleaned, and brushed the dog. I am ready.
And the contractions have all but stopped.
Dang.

Budding Comedians

My children love to tell jokes. Not different jokes, but the same jokes over and over again. And if for some reason I forget to laugh, they get their feelings hurt. So here are the Scott family jokes, in case you haven't heard them already. And when you hear them again, be sure to laugh.

Why did the elephant eat a candle?
Because he wanted a light snack.

What time is it when an elephant sits on your car?
Time to get a new car.

What is a whale's favorite thing to chew?
Bubble gum

What does mother nature use to go fishing?
North and South Poles

How do you make a Kleenex dance?
Put a little boogie in it.

What did the mushroom say when he walked into a bar?
I'm a fun-guy.

(Those last two are actually me and Mike's. I like them so much I thought I'd include them.)

Topics of conversation

The thing I love most about running is having someone to run with. Sure, I enjoy the athletic endeavor, getting my heartrate up, being able to eat junk. But without someone to run with, I'm not sure I would be very consistent. This morning was a great run. I always run better when I have something to talk about that isn't pointless, and I run especially well when I am mad. Today's topic was my crappy midterm grade. And for my running buddy, it was the possibilities of the future. Good stuff. It was a good day to be up at 5am.

Other topics we've dissected
People who drive us crazy
Politics, but only a few times
Buying toy weapons for kids
School teachers who suck
Family members and their problems
Husbands
Lack of money, many times
People who are dumb
Children's friends whom we don't like
Future running goals
Weight loss, or lack of
Pregnancy
Adoption
Music, books, and movies
What we ate the day before

If you have any topics that would be of interest to two middle-aged boring moms, please let me know.

FHE

Yesterday was FHE and in anticipation, I decided to make a pretty great treat. Not the usual rice krispy treats, or ice cream, or popsicles, all which have been used many times each because its what I have on hand. I actually planned ahead this time. I layered cherry pie filling with chocolate pudding and whipped cream in sundae glasses, you know, so you could see all the layers. Five of these parfaits were in the fridge when the kids got home from school. You should've seen them salivate. They could not wait for dad to get home and start FHE. By the time Mike gets here, eats dinner, and we start, it's kinda late. And then we ran into our usual sitting still problems that we have every week for FHE. I don't know why, but our children cannot physically stay calm and still for a five minute lesson. It is mind boggling, and a little frustrating. So after I was done with our lesson I told them they had behaved okay, but not great. They had earned one parfait which they could share. Man, you should've seen their faces fall. They were heartbroken. Not wanting to permenently damage their little souls, I gave them a chance at redemption. Three kids, arms folded, feet still, looking at me, for the next few minutes while I dragged out the lesson as far as I could. Mike called me a wus for not sticking to my guns and making them share, but how could I? FHE is supposed to equate to wholesome family recreation, not frustrating angry punishments. It's true, I am a wussy butterfly dancer. Plus, pudding parfaits don't save.

Discovered

My husband has discovered my blog. It's only a matter of time before he posts something completely inappropriate and embarassing. I just would like everyone to know that whatever he writes, he's just kidding, even if he says he's not. I've spent ten years explaining his behavior to you people, so by now most of you should know his very dry sense of humor and his lack of tact. By the way, hon, if you are reading this I want you to know I love you;)
Other things I love
Rice Krispy treats
Diet Dr. Pepper
Cool mornings
Clean bathrooms
Cannon's voice, especially when he says 'Right Mom'
Tiny baby girl stuff
Naps
Crunchy ice
Chance's early morning and late night talks
Clearance racks at Target
Going out to lunch
Running, although not lately
When Emme mothers
Newspapers
Ribbon

Emotions

Laughter
-Cannon kept saying "That's in-ting", and I thought he was saying "That's itching". Couldn't quite understand why the truck and the sign and the tv show was itchy to him. Finally figured out he was saying "That's interesting". I laughed for a while.
Confusion
-I don't understand the lymphatic system. I don't get the differences between a humoral and cell-mediated immune response. B cells and T cells are a mystery to me. I think I'm going to have to accept that I am not going to get an A in anatomy.
Frustration
-I swear I just cleaned the house, top to bottom, not that long ago. How does it get to this state of disarray in a matter of days? How does the dog lose so much fur and not go bald? How does Cannon miss the toilet by so much? How hard is it for someone besides me to notice the disaster and do something about it?
Jealousy
-Some family members are running a marathon this weekend and I can barely waddle through 3 miles, most of which I'm in pain for. I am so looking forward to St. George next year and running hard and feeling the good kind of sore for days after.
Happiness
-Stopped by McDonalds today for ice cream. Mmmm, tasty.
Letting Go
-Emme has been a princess every year for Halloween. Every year. This year we went to the store and she decided she wants to be a witch. When I tried to cajole her into a beautiful princess costume, she said she knew I wanted her to be a princess, and she would do it for me. I caved, disappointed in myself and the pressure I put on her. She is going to be a beautiful witch.
Hanging On
-Chance went for a yearly checkup today. It is hard to talk to the doctor about him while he is in the room. I asked Chance later if he understood what the doctor and I were talking about. He said yes, that we were talking about him and his disabilities. I hugged him for a long time. Life used to be less complicated.

Arrr Matey

So Cannon wants to be a pirate for Halloween, although I'm not sure where it came from. Have we watched some pirate show recently that I can't recall? Anyways, we went to the store yesterday to pick up a pirate accessory set, complete with hat, hook, patch, and earring. He also said he needed a moustache, a Captain Hook variety. We had seen a costume in a magazine that included one, and of course, he was hooked. I, feeling that $5 could be better spent, declined to buy him the fake moustache and instead said we would draw one on. As we are leaving the store he puts on his gear, earring included, and says Arr Matey! Cute, cute, cute. I smile as we go into a couple more stores, and he walks around like a pirate hooking things and trying to keep his hat on. When we get home, he informs me that he wants his moustache now. I tell him that we will do it for Halloween, not everyday prior. A few minutes later he walks down the stairs with a gigantic black moustache drawn under his nose. I ask him what he used and he tells me a marker, a black Sharpie marker. I snatch him up and frantically try to wash off the permentness of Sharpie from his round little face. After his face was rubbed bright raw and most of the black was gone, I informed him that we don't use markers on faces, only on paper. And I promised when the time came, Mommy would draw a moustache on with special makeup. He hopped down and went back to being a pirate, sans moustache. It was hard to not laugh, and I was sad to not get a picture. However, the immediacy of the situation required fast action, before the black had time to set. Imagine if you will this picture, Cannon with a black pirate hat, black frayed vest, gold earring, eyepatch with skull and crossbones, silver hook, and a moustache about 8 inches long right under his nose. I wish you all could've seen it.

Scrambled eggs

Ever since Chance came along, Mike and I have traded off sleeping in on Sundays, which I mean sleeping past 6:00am. Now there has never been a drawn up schedule, but usually a tired "You slept in last week, it's my turn" or "Do you really want to see me cry? Do you want to cry? Because I can make that happen" would suffice. Sometimes, if one of us had a long night doing laundry or bills or grading papers, the other would give up our Sunday sleep in. But pretty much for the last nine years, we've had every other Sunday to sleep until we couldn't sleep anymore. As the kids have gotten older their morning needs have changed, from needing a bottle and new diaper, to needing a bowl of cereal and a reminder to use the potty, to just needing someone to referee impending quarrels over who gets to use the computer and who gets to play GameCube (I know, can you believe we let our kids do those things on Sundays? We are terrible role models.) It is a rare occassion when they leave Mike and I to sleep. (I say Mike and I, but for the most part, Mike can sleep through a train wreck unless I hit him and tell him to get up.)
So this morning, imagine my surprise to wake around 8:00am and find all three of my children quietly playing games. "Hey mom" is all I get as I pass them to go downstairs and get the paper, no barrage of questions or tattling on each other. When I get to the kitchen, I laugh out loud. Apparently, my oldest had made breakfast for everyone. Cereal for Cannon, as he can't reach it on his own, and scrambled eggs for him and Emme. Not only that, but the table was cleared and they were now playing nicely with each other. They had even let the dog out. When did they decide they didn't need us anymore? For that matter, when did they become responsible? My heart pangs a little at the thought of my children being closer to adults than babies. At the same time, I did a little hop, skip, and jump as I went back to bed. Life is sweet.

Two items of business

Two things of interest:
1.Cannon had a speech evaluation this week, and as part of the process, had to have a psychological evaluation as well. I received a mound of paperwork to fill out, much of it questions in regards to his developmental history ie. when he started walking, using utensils, hopping in a straight line on one foot while whistling dixie and juggling plates, you know the usual. As the questionairre went on, there was a point where I had to list his court appearances, along with dates and offenses. I wonder how many 4 year olds have rap sheets. What did they do? I imagine a kiddie underground network of preschool criminals, stealing their moms' candy stash and selling it on the black market.
2.Emme wrote me a card when I wasn't feeling well yesterday, emotionally speaking. It says and I quote, "Your the best! Who couldn't have a better mom than you!!!! Your the Queen mommy. Roses are red. Dragons are green. Our door is blue. But my mom is you!!!!!! Go to sleep." I laughed out loud, because our door is blue. She is so funny. Definitely made me feel better. How bad is it when your 7 year old tells you you need a nap?

Homework sucks

So I just finished 13 and a half hours of homework, with an hour break for dinner. That is ridiculous. My poor children. What did they do today for the 9 hours they were awake and I was busy? I don't even want to look.

Girl Girl Girl Girl

So I went to the store yesterday to buy the items I need to make baby announcements. Some plain white cards and envelopes, cardstock, ribbon. I was feeling pretty proud of myself, in that I am planning ahead. As I stood and mulled over the ribbon selection, holding a few in my hand, I realized that I was having a GIRL, something I apparently had forgotten. I needed to put all the blue, green, and brown ribbon down. I looked around to see if anyone saw me, as I'm sure I turned bright red. I cannot believe I forgot the gender of my child. How does one forget something like that? I mean, I had even envisioned how they would look for a couple of days prior to the incident at the store, all cute and blue. I hope my forgetfulness isn't a genetically dominant gene. My poor children, they would have no hope at all.