We get so busy with kids, school, work, functions and sometimes the last thing I want to do on the weekend is to run around.  The last three weeks we have had sick kids and a sick S.O.  I went no where except for runs to the local dollar store or gas station for necessary supplies like ginger ale and kleenex and bleach.  I was going stir crazy.

This weekend:  no sick kids, no sick S.O.  Friday, I took my dad to lunch to celebrate his belated birthday.  #7 went with us.  We had a nice lunch and then a not so nice time at the grocery store.  #7 had reached his saturation point of being told no and started to act like a madman.  He at one point called me a devil woman.  The clerk thought it was funny, I did not.   Grandpa reacted by buying him a toy with candy and handled it very well.  He got to leave for the day, I was stuck with #7.

That evening my wonderful neice agreed to babysit and S.O. and I went out to dinner sans kids.  Except for my two other nieces from my sister-in-law who were so beautifully behaved that it didn’t even seem like they were there until I had to take them to the bathroom.  It was like herding cats but all in all, it was a successful dinner.  The food was excellent and the company was great too.

Saturday morning S.O. and his dad left bright and early to go to a farm toy show (don’t ask.  I’m happy I didn’t go.   S.O. can have his hobbies and I don’t have to have the same ones.  Happy happy.)   I picked up the  house, cleaned up the fingernail polish that #7 got on the granite countertop without any type of damage to the countertops or him, managed to get dressed and have the kids dressed by the time #1 and my MIL came by.  Great start to the day.

We went with the inlaws to a flea market and I actually enjoyed walking around looking at other people’s junk.  The kids were pretty good (although #1 had her fill about halfway through and could be heard grumbling that “this is why I never want kids.”  Great birth control method, spending time with your much younger siblings!)  #4 spent his money on a pocket watch, #6 got “antique” toys (i.e. they were from the 90’s) and #7 got ice cream, popcorn, and a couple of trucks.  Mommy got nothing but getting out of the house, taking 4 kids to a flea market, and not not losing my temper was reward enough.

By the time we got back to the farmhouse it was still nice out and we were going to start a fire but decided that all that walking around was exercise enough and settled in to watch some movies.  It was a great end to the night.

Sunday was our sleep in day (re: until at least 8 a.m.) and we ate snack cakes for breakfast, pizza for lunch and had breakfast for dinner.  We watched movies in bed with the kids and accomplished nothing.  It was a great weekend.

I love weekends where we all get to hang out (except for #2 who never returns my calls or texts and #3 who cannot be bothered to wake up until 2 p.m. and #5 who just in general never wants to hang out) and relax.  This weekend we may have projects, we may have to run errands, we may even not do a damn thing.  And that’s perfectly alright with me!

 

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but it looks nice!

Good morning, dear readers!  I am sitting in my living room, watching my fake fire in my fake fireplace and enjoying the quiet as #4, #5, and #6 are at school and #7 is still sleeping.   We had snow yesterday and looking out the window, it seems so pretty and wintery.  Going outside, it’s bitterly cold and snow sucks.    Because I live in central Illinois I have no recourse with our strange weather.  Two days ago it was 60 degrees and we were working in the yard.  Today, it is 10 degrees (-3 with the wind chill) and we have a good inch of frozen snow.

The month of February has been quite challenging for us here on the farm.  We have chickens that have decided to not earn their keep and have stopped laying.  We have a mole infestation in our front yard that must be a braille invitation for other moles to join the party.  We have still not managed to organize, clean, or even enter the man cave barn.

We have also weathered through 3 weeks of sickness from bronchitis to pink eye to colds to stomach flu.  Of course it is also the one time that the kids have ever willingly shared anything, just wish it wasn’t their germs.   We have managed to not go and do anything, not going out to eat, not going to the farm store, not interacting with other people unless they were directly genetically linked to us and had viral infections, so it’s been fun.

We have also been going through that wonderful stage of potty training regression with #7.  If you, as a parent have never had the privilege, let me explain this stage to you.  #7 has been potty trained for almost a year.  Pees on the potty, poos on the potty, he’s even mastering the art of not screaming my name 1000 times while in the bathroom.  Until lately.

#7 has taken it up himself to mark his territory.  Yep, he has been spreading the pee around like Mardi Gras beads at a parade.  And because it is February in Central Illinois, he has not been doing it outside.  It started with our closet smelling funny.  It wasn’t cat urine because it didn’t smell like a meth lab, it wasn’t dog pee because she has a favorite spot on the carpet that she likes.  This was a distinctive disgusting odor that I couldn’t trace.   I got down on all fours to sniff the floor of the closet and found the culprit, so I thought.  A box of miscellaneous bathroom items that hadn’t been quite unpacked.  It smelled awful.  Box was removed, floor of closet mopped.  Smell gone.  Until the next day.

Than we noticed that the bathtub loofahs had the same smell. As did the toy container.  And an empty popcorn tin we found in the parlor.  And #7’s play tent that he got for Christmas.  What the hell was going on?  Had a raccoon maneuvered his way into the house?  Did we have a family of squirrels that where relieving themselves at random inside?  No, no, it was just #7 peeing all over anything that he could:  Bathtub? Check.  Closet? Check.  Toy box? Check.  Heat vent in the living room behind the Laz-Y Boy that nobody ever sits in? Double check.

When confronted with the proof of his actions (which involved him whipping it out in front of #4 and trying to pee on the cat) he simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know why.  Because.” Well, there you have it.  Just because.  Now he is followed more closely than Trump’s cabinet nominees.   We have pleaded, begged, rationalized (as much as you can with a 3 year old), cajoled, and bribed him to stop turning our house into his own private water closet.  He hasn’t had an “accident” in a couple of days.  I’m hoping that he has realized that peeing in the toilet and not on Mommy’s loofahs in the bathtub is more lucrative for him in his cookie negotiations.

So, yep, February is only 9 days in and has already pretty much kicked our ass.  Here’s to hoping that the rest of the shortest month of the year gets its shit together!

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Is it really that funny?

Oh my goodness.  So much has changed since I last posted a blog in October.   We have a new president, a new dog, and a new found appreciation for store bought goodies.   I want to apologize to my dear readers as I have been extremely lazy and have not posted.  I have been diligently been trying to finish up my bachelor’s degree while also channeling Laura Ingalls Wilder, but more about that in a minute.

First, let me address the current political climate.  One of the reasons I have not been active on social media is because of the three ring circus that we currently have and have been under since the primaries took place.  I am not going to make this a political blog and have found it difficult to not express my opinions on the situation but the reality is:  it is just my opinion and I have enough family and friends to argue with that I do not feel the need to include my cyber posse as well.  So, that is it for my political statement on this subject.

Secondly, my school work.  These are the last few classes remaining before I am awarded (hopefully) my B.A. in Human Services.  It has been incredibly intensely tedious and boring and takes every bit of concentration I have to just plow through it.  It feels like I have been taking classes for about 10 years and I am completely happy that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  A dim watery light but a light none the less.

Thirdly, Laura Ingalls Wilder (happy belated birthday, Half-Pint!).  So, living in the farmhouse, out in the country, I have learned that you have to be prepared for times when it is not convenient to run to the grocery store or order food.  Which is to say, every day.  I am not the most prepared of people on a good day so you can imagine the things that I have had to do.

I have had to use food that has been in my deep freezer for an indeterminate period of time.  One time I cooked pork chops, turned out to be flattened chicken breasts.  Yum.  I have mastered the art of baking bread.  I can turn out a mean white bread or wheat bread but had a disaster of epic proportions when it came to trying to make a cinnamon-raisin bread.  It does make a nice doorstop, however.  I have never professed to be a baker and each warm, yeasty, loaf that I pull out of the oven makes me appreciate Walmart like never before.  I have made cookies, cakes, and candies when I have a sweet tooth.  I really really need to work on following exact ingredients and cooking times.  I long for the bakery at our store in our old town and have a new found respect for anyone that makes baked goods from scratch.

Introducing Miss Luna Lovedog

Fourth(ly), our new dog.  We had a dog.  He was great.  He died.  We have a new dog.  I love her to pieces.  She is sweet tempered, loving, and cute as a button.  My husband hates her.  She chewed up the cord to my laptop, chewed up the cord to my carpet shampooer (after thoughtfully pissing on said carpet), ate his sunglasses, ate #6’s glasses, and S.O.’s glasses.  She has eaten two pairs of my yard shoes, one face off of a Baby Alive, and may or may not have been responsible for the great toilet paper fiasco of 2017.   She refuses to play with her chew toys, isn’t food driven (uhm, hello?), and only wants to be constantly petted and scratched.  I am open to suggestions before my S.O. decides that my wonderful little Luna Lovedog (such a HP nerd) needs to be in permanent mode as a chicken coop dog.

The cats have grudgingly accepted her, except for our female kitty in residence Phyllis.  She hates her with a passion that equals my distaste for laundry so it’s pretty intense.  The other cats ignore her and look down on her for being a well, a dog.  The chickens do not interest her so we have that going in our favor.

So, fearless reader, it is on that note that I am signing off for the day.  I’ve missed you and hope that you have room in your hearts for a tired, sugar starved, and sleep deprived blogger.   Good night, John Boy.

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