Penny Pinchin'

With never ending car trouble this month, and in anticipation of our very first vacation this summer, Adam and I have been trying desperately to watch our money. (Watch it burn into flames is more like it.)

My parents raised my brother and me like we were in the Great Depression, so I know how to deal. Adam, not so much. Adam has always been one of those got some money in my pocket, now I gotta spend it quick, before it does something crazy, like get SAVED! No! Anything but that! I guess we even each other out. I would prefer to spend nothing. He wants to spend it ALL. Together (and with me occassionally taking his debit card away) we manage to spend reasonably. But, this month has made even Adam want to save money.


I posted on Facebook, earlier this week, that I actually dug out soggy croutons from our dinner salad, the night before, and toasted them in the toaster oven. Don't want to waste food. I got this idea from my Dad. The last time he visited, he did the same thing. I told him then it was gross and to just use new ones, but he refused. He actually put the re-toasted ones back in a bag and used them throughout the whole week he was here. They actually aren't too bad. I guess I grossed people out, though, because my one friend told me she would send me a fresh bag of croutons every week if I promised never to do it again.

Lesson 109: your eating habits cause such disgust, your friend from another state wants to send you croutons for life = white trash

Today, Adam and I were rearranging Jovie's and Stone's room. Jovie is now in a toddler bed. Can we get a sarcastic "Yeah."? Now she's free to torment and wake Stone up at all hours of the night. Anyway, as I swept, I commented on how the sweeper bag was full, and we needed to buy some more. Adam disappeared and came back with the shop-vac. He pulled the bag out of the sweeper and began to shop-vac the bag.

 Lesson 110: sweeping out a sweeper bag = white trash

The really sad thing is, when he was almost done, the bag broke. All that gross work for nothing. I did get a laugh at how much he looked like my Dad, as he dug out loose change and random legos. "I can't believe how carelessly you sweep," he said, "you have no mercy." This was exactly one of the things Adam complained about when he helped my Dad clean his old motorcycle shop. Adam swept and my Dad had to waste time digging through the dirt and pulling out every penny and loose screw.

The one cool thing that resulted from his bag digging, he found the little Jesus that fell off of his rosary about a month ago. He was so distraught when it happened. He searched everywhere. You should have seen his face when he pulled it out of a big ball of dirt. Even though the bag broke and his effort to save some money was futile, we still feel like it was an absolute success. :) 

Potty Time, Excellent!

Whoever said girls were easier to potty train than boys, never met my daughter. My four older boys were very easy. They peed on the potty once and it was over. They rarely had an accident. The only accidents were during the night, and that was only Jude and Jet. Jagger and Marky never had accidents.

Jovie has been a whole other, hair pulling experience. I've tried on several occasions to potty train her, but after a few days of cleaning puddles off of everything, and absolutely NO tinkle in the potty, I'd give up and tell myself I'd try again in a few months. Time and time again, it was the same song and dance. I accepted the fact that I would probably be changing my daughter's diaper before I helped her get into her wedding dress. Ok, so I knew it wouldn't be that bad.

A few days ago, she complained about her bum hurting. She gets diaper rashes often, and this one really bothered her. As she complained, Adam told her, "If you peed on the potty, your bum wouldn't hurt anymore." A light bulb went off in her little head. She ripped off her diaper, then went and sat on the potty. Excitement bubbled inside me. Could this be it? Has the day finally come?

"I peed!" she exclaimed. Adam and I ran over to check. Nothing. Talk about a let down. To our surprise, though, she didn't ask to put her diaper back on, which is what normally happens, followed by a tantrum when we tell her "no". She just jumped up all nudey-bum and went about her business.

About a hour later, she went upstairs. Suddenly, she came sliding down the stairs with a huge smile on her face, "Mommy! I peed!"

"Ok, I'll be there in a second," I said, not in any hurry to go look at an empty training toilet. I eventually made my way up there to find her doing a happy jig by the potty. I peered inside and VICTORY!! I danced with her, then gave her a whole cookie. She finally got it.

We have had a couple of accidents. One, she had just been woken up, and I think I took her diaper off before she was truly awake, and she peed on the couch. Then, she did her first #2, got so excited, stood up, and peed on the floor. We'll have to work on that one, but other than that, she's done great.

There was just one more thing I had to teach her. The potty chair downstairs, in the living room, has a little removable cup, so it can be quickly cleaned. I was sitting at the kitchen table when I saw Jovie coming into the room holding the cup. "I peed, Mom." Before I could grab the cup, to my horror, she lifted it to her lips and took a big old swig.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed in disgusted terror. As soon as it touched her lips, she realized it was nasty. She pulled the cup down as tinkle drooled out of her mouth all over the floor. "Ka-ka," she managed to cough out. I laughed, "Yeah, it's ka-ka. We don't drink our own pee." She handed me the cup, completely grossed out.

Sorry Jovie, but......

Lesson 108: drinking your own urine = white trash

I love ya baby girl, and we're so proud of you!!

Car Seats

Car seats are gross, especially after you let your kids eat in them. My kids' seats are always full of dry crushed cereals and old McDonalds fries. They also are stained from spilled juice boxes.

Like any other normal parent, I will get fed up and remove ALL car seats to give the fabric part a good cleaning in the washing machine and to wipe down the little crevices that aren't seen any other time, but for some reason are filled to the brim with mysterious filth.

The other day, Adam went to Lowes to get wood, so he removed all the car seats and put them on the porch. He never put them back in, and that night we had a torrential downpour, and all the seats were drenched. Let me tell you, a car seat full of Froot Loops is gross, but a car seat full of soggy Froot Loops is just plain nasty. It was time to be cleaned.

Adam and I removed all the material parts and cleaned them. When they were finished Adam put all the seats on the kitchen table to be reassembled. When we were finished, we left them on the table. We were leaving in an hour, so, we figured we'd put them back in when we left.

The time came to leave and Adam went out to the kitchen to retrieve the seats. A few seconds later, I heard him yell out in frustration, "Are you kidding me?" I ran to see what had happened. I got there just in time to see him tipping Stone's car seat upside down, as Cheerios rained down onto the kitchen floor.

Lesson 107: car seats full of cereal before they have a chance to be put back into the car = white trash

Seven

It's official. I'm pregnant.

Yep, during Adam's and my 7th year of marriage, we found out on February 7th that we were expecting our 7th child, due on the 7th of October. Then, when I called the doctor to make my appointment, the nurse said, "When you come in you will be 7 weeks." I smiled. Of course I would be.

With all this seven nonsense, I felt the number had to be significant. There were just too many 7's to ignore. A lot of people have suggested we name him (yes, I know it's a boy) Seven or something to do with the number. My sister-in-law sat with me the other day and researched the Greek and Latin words for seven and seventh. The only one I liked was the word septimus. That would definitely be a strong manly name. I'm still toying with the thought.

After my search with Kasey, I dug some more. I googled 7. I clicked on the link that said, "The link between God and the number 7". Hmmmm....that intrigued me. Within the first paragraph I read that 7 was a symbol of God's perfect completion and rest.

Perfect completion and rest? I warmly smiled at the perfect completion part, feeling that this baby would mark the perfect completion of our family. But rest? This simple word made jubilant tears stream down my face!

Lesson 106: tears of joy pouring down your face over the word rest = a clearly exhausted white trash woman

This shows you how extremely tired I've been. Reading that, for some reason, made me believe that if I gave birth to another child I would be granted rest. Huh? Does that make any sense at all? I haven't slept in over a month, because my kids have been sick since January 29th. No lie! In fact, we have only been fever free since Saturday. Marky had strep throat, Jagger had a double ear infection, Jude and I had bronchitis and all of us, but Adam, had a 5 day fever virus on top of it. It's like a coughing symphony all night long. I can't sleep through that. And I'm bringing another child into the world to cough along with them. Rest? I'm staying hopeful! You never know.

Even if this baby doesn't bring me rest, I'm still looking forward to meeting the "perfect completion" to our family.

Guns

There are a lot of boys in this house. This results in an ample supply of fake firearms. The fake ones have always been enough, but as of late, the boys have put in requests for REAL guns.

My response to their pleas? Dramatic laughter in their hopeful little faces.

Adam took the adult approach and decided to inform them about real guns. The conversation went like this:

Adam: "Boys, do you know what we use real guns for?"

Picture this, my boys jumping on our bed in excitement. I'm pretty sure they thought they were closer to reaching their dreams now that Dad had engaged them in a real conversation about it.

Their responses:

Jude: "To shoot trees!" - What did trees ever do to Jude? I wonder.

Jet: "To shoot animals that are being bad!" - Jet gets a gun and his first order of business is to find Old Yeller and put him down.

Jagger: "To shoot the Rebels!" - Oh, my little Sith Lord, living in a constant state of warfare with the Jedis in his mind.

Adam busted out laughing and the conversation was over. Trust me, they won't be getting real guns anytime soon.

Lesson 105: one question asked, and the responses from my children offend environmentalists, PETA, and those who use the Force = white trash

Puke

I've had it. I swear, if one more kid vomits I'm going to lose it. The past 8 months have been so full of puke I can hardly stand it.

On May 3rd, Adam and I celebrated our anniversary with a sick Jet and Jude. Then, after the 4th of July, Jet, Jude, Jovie, and Stone had some sort of stomach bug. Yep, stomach bug in the summer. Isn't summer supposed to be a break from illness?

Right after Labor day, Jovie, Jagger, and Jude had another bug. Are you detecting a trend yet?

Halloween we were safe, but forget about Thanksgiving. Jet woke up sick.

Lesson 103: spending Thanksgiving cleaning vomit and Thanksgiving dinner consisting of nothing but Oodles of Noodles = white trash

Jet ended up making the whole house sick, including me. I haven't had the stomach flu since February 1998! Thanks Jet.

Martin Luther King day kicked off with Jagger puking at 5 am. No holiday is safe!! The following Thursday Jude woke up sick. The next Monday Jude was puking AGAIN!

Lesson 104: kid puking on the sidewalk in front of Steak and Shake = white trash

That was this past Monday. Guess what happened this morning? Yep, Jagger's sick.

All that's left to be said is, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

St. Francis de Sales This One's For You

There are a lot of saints that I ask to pray for me on a daily basis. Mary and Joseph I have praying for Adam and me to be the best parents we can be, Saint Dymphna prays for Stone and Jagger's mental issues, and poor Saint Jude, being a drama queen I feel all stressful situations are desperate cases. I never leave that poor guy alone.

A few years ago, when I started my writing adventure, I would pray before I wrote. I wanted God to guide me always. After saying my prayers, I was going through my saint list and asking them to pray for various issues. When I was done I thought to myself, "Did I get everyone?" That's when I heard it. It wasn't audible, it was written on my heart. "Ask St. Francis to pray for you."

Huh? I brushed it off. A few seconds later it came again. I chuckled and knew it wasn't me. I remember saying, "Ok, and even though I don't know why, St. Francis please pray for me."

After that experience I had to immediately look on the internet to find out what St. Francis was the patron saint of. I looked up St. Francis of Assissi, since he was the only St. Francis I knew. Animals? No. That couldn't be it. I noticed St. Francis de Sales and clicked on the link. I smiled when I read he was the patron saint of writers.

Needless to say, he's become a good friend. So good in fact, that when Stone was born I told Adam I wanted his middle name to be DeSales. Adam agreed.

When Stone was born Adam texted friends and family. A couple days later we got a text from a friend that said, "lol, sounds like Stoned As Hell."

Noooooooooooooo!

Lesson 102: trying to name your kid after a saint, but winding up with his name sounding like "Stoned As Hell" = white trash

So, in honor of St. Francis de Sales's feast day, this blogs for you! Thank you for all your prayers!!