I don't want to be awake for this

My nine year old woke me at 6:30 this morning to tell me that Ricky Bobby had a bird in his mouth. I was surprised by this because it is December and I don't feed birds because I have a bird killer named Ricky Bobby. He is one of my black and white cats. He is an avid hunter and while I feel sad about it, I am also happy to say that as a cat owner, I have never had a mouse in my house.

So I go downstairs to get my shoes on to go outside and get the bird away from him. I walked into the kitchen where it quickly became apparent that Rick and the bird were not outside. They were on my kitchen counter. And the bird was freshly caught and very much alive. I praised him for him hunting prowess and grabbed him by the scruff and paws. He let go of the bird.

And the bird flew away.

In my house.

Down into my basement.

The kids of course loved this. I however wondered if I could somehow sneak back in bed before the babies woke up and I could catch the bird later. Alas, it was not to be. Down the stairs I went, where we looked for 15 minutes for a tiny little sparrow. The girls had to get on the bus so the oldest took over with me. (She goes to middle school and they start late) We eventually found him shoved behind the fish tank. I went to grab him and found that he can fly really well. He flew all over and landed in the fish tank water. He freed himself and off he went up the stairs into the kitchen. On the top of the fridge, behind the fridge, on the stove, and onto the pita chips.

I was by this point, completely awake and more interested in getting a good picture then getting the bird. Which I did. I caught the bird nestled in between the pita chips and the quinoa. Very cute bird. We opened the door, and let him go. The babies woke up. I wonder if it is a warning on the kind of day I am going to have?

Gah!

Woke up a couple of days ago to the entire house being toilet papered. Apparently the babies let me sleep in. Thanks babies! Now instead of taking that as a warning of the type of day that it would be, I decided that it would be a good idea to go to the Mall of America. Christmas presents aren't going to buy themselves!

We got to the MOA and had some lunch. I went there for two things. One was long dangling earring for my oldest two girls and a Build A Bear GC for my middle. We walked into Claire's where the boy immediately went to the back of the store and grabbed a handful of necklaces and took them off the wall. I took them away (the girl was staring in awe of everything girl in the store) and was attempting to take them apart to put them back onto the wall in the right spots when this older woman (I think she was moody because she had to work at Claire's a bunch of seventeen year old) came up to me and "offered" to put the necklaces away. I told her I could do it and she said that she insisted and that I should then "go and get my son".

Hackles rose.

I will admit it. I become quite bitchy when someone judges me based on one witnessed event that is neither here nor there. What I wanted to say was "These penny necklaces made in China by 6 year old's that will immediately break but not before turning your neck green are just fine, woman" mixed with a big "B***h, back the f**k off" (Where did my God fearing Christian womanhood go in that moment?)

Instead I said quite haughtily, "I take my business elsewhere". Too bad for Claire's because they must not have realized that I have FOUR girls that LOVE the crap at Claire's.

We left and went to Build A Bear, which went well. As we were walking back through Nordstroms, I decided to check out the kids section, where I was able to find some earrings 50% off. As we were leaving, my son knocked over a shoe. I was way over by the door (but I could see him clearly) and yelled to him to put the shoe back on the shelf and that we needed to leave.

He said "no".

By this time, my body hurt from dragging these kids around. They had run crazy through every aisle when I was buying the earrings, which took way longer then it needed to. They were being crazy. I had to decide if I wanted to walk all the way back over to have him put one shoe back on the shelf.

Crap. Okay, so I tell him we pick up things that we cause to fall and that he has to put it back. He again says no, so I hold his hand to bring him back over. He immediately goes limp. I then end up dragging my child back over by the hand as him limp body dusts the rich floors of Nordstroms. He picks up the shoe and puts it back on the shelf. I say "Good job buddy".

I look up and see this lady who has witnessed the whole thing. I brace myself. She speaks and says "Good job mama".

I try to remember that when later that night they cover my house in a Costco size bag of pancake mix.

Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree...

I looked back at a post of mine from when the babies were 15 months old and how I was nervous to have a tree. I wish I could go back and say "WOMAN!!! Don't you know that one day you are going to have two THREE year olds?" Save the drama!!

It is so bad, my friends. So bad. I don't think I will survive and I am positive the tree won't.

This day has been one big sigh

Last night the boy slept poorly. He kept waking up and complaining about his tummy hurting. Or I wish he woke up and complained...he more, screamed at me and flailed around and didn't want me to touch him but still somehow wanted to be able to sleep on my head. His lovely Thomas the Train room still sits untouched. But that is a whole other post.

We pulled down the blinds in our room so that they would sleep in. Didn't work. I am not sure if I have explained how breakfast in my house has worked in the last three months. If I could just skip over it completely every day I would. This is all from my son.

Do you want an untoasted peanut butter bagel? No.
Do you want cereal? No.
Do you want toast? No.
Do you want an egg? No.
Do you want some milk? No.

Well, I guess you aren't going to eat today.... I want a bagel!!! (scream)

Okay, would you like an untoasted peanut butter bagel? No.
Do you want it toasted? No.
Do you want cream cheese? No.
Do you want butter? No.

Well, I guess you aren't going to eat today..... I want peanut butter!!!! (scream)

Okay, would you like a plate? No.
Would you like to put it on the bagel? No, yes.

He starts to put it on the bagel, it doesn't go on smoothly, I take over and tada, one untoasted peanut butter bagel. Which he may or may not eat depending on his mood.

I am stressed out just writing this post. And have I mentioned the Christmas tree?

FYI

Squash is not a ball. No matter how lightly you throw it, it will break.

Too much tech in the house

So this just happened. My daughter came down crying and said that her sister wouldn't let her lay on the bed to watch a show. It is a king size bed and there is plenty of room. Rather then be a good mama and hike up two flights of stairs, I wrote a note on the computer. That is where I am sitting now, watching Warehouse 13 on megavideo.

Here is the note:

Sissypants,

This is your mother. IF YOU DO NOT KNOCK IT OFF, you will be grounded from the TV, computer, phones, Wii, Netflix, Nook, and iPad.

Say SORRY to your beautiful sister. She is a sweet girl, and doesn’t deserve your anger or mistreatment.

IF YOU CONTINUE your bad behavior, you will be in SERIOUS trouble.

SO KNOCK IT OFF IMMEDIATELY!!!

Your mother.

The list of technology is mind blowing. How did it make its way into my house? Now back to Warehouse 13.

Out of the mouths of...

So I made the mistake of calling my kids things that have the word "butt" in it. Like butthead, buttcrack, stinkybutt, and other things that I won't write down because it looks like bad parenting. Normally this is not a problem. I have a bunch of girls that don't notice. They might say things like "Stop being such a butthead", or "Mom, she said that my buttcrack was hanging out and it wasn't"...or whatever. But they aren't mean to each other when they say these things.

So for instance, when my daughter comes home from school, I might say, "Hey, buttcrack! How was school today?" and she would respond with "Good" or "I have homework" or something along those lines. My son, however, doesn't understand that these words are supposed to be said in jest.
He has started to call everyone a butthead when he is mad. So, he will say, "STOP IT BUTTHEAD" when his sister takes something from him. Or if I won't let him do something he wants to do, he will call me a butthead and give me the evil eye.

It had gotten the point where he was saying it at least 100 times a day. Sometimes for fun and sometimes because he is mad. The other day I spent 30 minutes talking to him about hurting feelings and name calling (me having set such a good example) and how he isn't allowed to call someone a butthead when he feels angry. He ended up apologizing and we moved forward five minutes and he was back at it. This happened less and less until yesterday he wasn't saying it much.

I told him that he was doing a great job using kind words and he said (in all sincerity) "Thank you Mermaid Buttcrack!"

And off he ran.