HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Duelling Computers

While playing Guitar Hero (rather loudly,) I could hear a lot of noise in the background. After my song ended (you DON'T interrupt Guitar Hero,) I went to see what the boys were up to. Corey had the old computer cranked up all the way, listening to his music, and Shannon had a Sonic Cartoon at full volume on the new computer (bass boost, no less,) all in the same room.

Poor Riley had been struggling to hear his puny DS the whole time and nobody could hear a thing. So I booted everybody off of anything electronic and told them all to go play. Well, everybody got booted except myself, I decided it was MY turn to play on the computer. With the volume off, of course.

---A little side note. The strum bar on my 'guitar' no longer works when you push down on it. It's only 5 days old. Help!

Web Cams and other Crap

Yesterday I put together this new computer - not too difficult considering it's not a system straight out of a box like we usually buy. (Ah... what you will sacrifice to save a couple of dollars and get more computer memory...) Next I installed an external storage device on the old computer and backed up all of my files to it. Then I deleted a ton of programs (44% free memory space, YIPPIE!!!) and completely reorganized my files.

As I was going through all of that, I allowed Ken to install our new web cam on the new computer even though most all computer related tasks are typically MY job. He did just fine, but once the web cam was installed we couldn't seem to get it to work. We called Papa and he loaded his new web cam today and same problem; just couldn't get it to connect.

Well, for some reason, one hour before the boy's bedtime, I decided that I would try to fix it. Just so you know, it is VERY hard to troubleshoot technological problems (at least for me) when you've got two little boys fighting in the background, one playing Portal on a computer behind you with an ever-increasing volume, and a father-in-law on the phone with a bad cold! (Thanks, Papa, I'm sure it wasn't any fun for you, either!)

Anyhow, we got our web cams to where we could hear each other, ("No Cussing," cautioned Papa as we tried to work through it,) and then I walked away for a little while and put the boys to bed. Upon returning to the computer, I found an article which said that if all else fails, contact your internet provider.

Wow, even though the problem inevitably had NOTHING to do with my IP's firewall, the poor kid from my internet service walked me through a million ideas and stressed to try my speaker settings again. I got off the phone with him, tweaked my settings and wa-lah - I could connect with Papa.

All is well, right? Well... then I decided to walk mom through her web cam. Needless to say I am ready to scream, and I am sure she is too. We walked through everything a million times and once again got both of us to where we could hear each other over the computer but no picture. For TWO HOURS I went through the same stuff I did with Ed, and all we got was each others' voices. But the really frustrating part?

For about 30 seconds WE HAD VIDEO! We giggled. We screamed. We celebrated! Mom hollered for Dad to come have a look when all of the sudden... blip! "Your connection has been lost."

And I haven't been able to see her frustrated face ever since. Excuse me while I scream.

Christmas Pictures

Christmas has come and gone, and now I'm left with a house that's been turned upside down and some mediocre pictures to show you how our season went. Here goes:

Margarine is NOT the same thing as butter, and this cookie press is going back. The gingerbread men turned out just fine, though.

Corey being dramatic after being told that the coal he found in his stocking wasn't a good thing after all. (Somebody should lay down and go to sleep at bedtime instead of tormenting their brother and their mother...)

Corey loving his Slinky's. (Oops, he was supposed to get those when he was completely potty trained a LONG LONG time ago.) Better late than never.

The biggest hit of the day - a Batman cave with an actual functioning PORTAL! (Corey is fascinated by portals, courtesy of some internet game.) The older boys loved this toy, too.

Shannon with one of many Hot Wheel toys, Riley with his Bakugon (FINALLY!)

Santa's only gift for the boys, a computer of their own. Unimpressed, this is how much they unwrapped it before walking away. I finally unwrapped it this evening so we could return it for an after-Christmas-sale-upgrade. Maybe I should keep it for myself?

Grammy and Papa. Thrilled. (Actually Papa became very sick later in the day and has yet to recover.)

It WAS a good Christmas, and we now wait it out until school resumes on January 5. January 5... that's a long ways away...

Merry Christmas, Boys...

...your Grammy and Papa got you Guitar Hero for the WII. We know you'll love it someday, but in the meantime the adults sure are having fun with it!

Especially your Daddy, who is truly tone deaf and can't keep rhythm for a standard eight count. Set music to a video game, though, and suddenly he's a musical genius.

Proof that this game has NOTHING to do with musical talent.

A Little Busy in Michigan

If it would ever stop snowing, I might find time to blog again. Two snow days in one week, and more snow on every day besides. Oh yeah, single digit temps, -20 wind chills, 30 MPH winds, drifts up the kazoo....

If you need to find me, just look under the 5 foot snow pile that used to be our mailbox.

A Snow Day in Cookie Land

About five inches of snow, and don't you know it, they declare a snow day. Right before a two week Christmas break. Two observations: One, it is just wrong to force children to stay home from school when parents are trying to prepare for Christmas. And two, our new superintendent must be from Florida or something, what's so bad about a little snow?

Anyhow, I've started my baking, first with the spritz cookies because I need ten dozen by Saturday for a cookie exchange, about five dozen more by Saturday for a girlfriend's birthday gift (I swear, she insists that she loves them...) and then another five dozen or so by Friday because I'm going super cheap-o with the teachers' gifts this year. Oh, yeah, and then I need to make some for US.

One little problem, though. My Wilson Cookie Press has a habit of breaking right when I'm in full cookie mode, and then I have to go buy another one. I'm on my third one now in less than two years. And yes, Wilson will be getting a little hate mail.

My three Cookie Presses, broken part in center.

So far I've made five dozen yellow stars, two dozen gingerbread men (Riley's request,) and about four dozen chocolate crinkles. Umm... chocolate crinkles. Corey immediately recognized the similarity between chocolate crinkles and the yummy brownies at Valentino's. No wonder why we all love them.

Lot's of crinkles (Aunt Jan's recipe.)

My gingerbread man looks just like the AOL symbol, eh? With crinkles and stars.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, cookies. Time to go make the cookies...

Christmas Crafts

We've had a busy day today, starting off with a Christmas shopping spree at the boy's school, where I volunteered and Ken got the honor of carting the boys around, followed by a trip to the library to make Gingerbread Houses. Corey and Shannon insisted they wanted no part of this craft, but they were signed up so there was no getting out of it. Turns out they had the best time ever!

Riley's house featured a ramp and Shannon's featured a smiley face.

Corey's house featured a big old blob of frosting on top, which became squished when Shannon dropped it in the car on the way home...

I was not in the room with the boys as they decorated their gingerbread houses, but both Riley and Shannon ended up adding big red licorice N's to their eaves. When I came back to check on them, I commented on how their Daddy's poor team never gets any love, so Riley added an O to his. Shannon demurred.

More pictures to follow sometime this week in the Kalamazoo Gazette, please let me know if you see them so that I can go out and buy a copy!

Uh oh...

So a few weeks ago my computer started acting a little strange... I could rarely access my blog and I had difficulty getting onto Internet Explorer; my connections came and went. AOL was fine, which is strange, because I understand it runs off of Internet Explorer. Then AOL couldn't connect all of the sudden. Luckily my cousin had been pushing Firefox a while back and I had installed it but never used it. So I started using it. Worked GREAT! For about a week...

I decided that since my blog was most important, (sad but true,) I'd work on getting that going. I deleted the maps, which rarely loaded well anyway, and then got rid of my countdown gadgets. Hey, I could finally access my blog! At least when I could get an Internet connection...

Last night, after attempting to get an Internet connection from THREE different servers for over TWENTY minutes, I made a decision. I was going to find out what the heck was wrong with my computer if it took all week. Apparently, it's going to take all week. What I found out so far:

1) I ran a defragment every couple of months, and this summer my free space was wide open in my memory. When I ran it today, I found I only had 32% of memory space left on my C drive. This is bad. I ran the defragmenter and still, the same amount of memory space remained.

2) Next I decided to manually remove programs from my computer. That was fun. Over and over I deleted anything I deemed 'safe' to remove, only to have it remain on my computer. WHAATT???

3) Then I decided to perform a system 'clean-up.' (Right about now, you might be going, "What is all of this stuff Colleen is doing?" I was asking myself the same thing, most all of it is new to me...) The clean-up program found plenty of things I could do without, so I gave my computer permission to delete more junk. Guess what? It's still there!

4) Finally I decided that I must have a virus or some crazy spyware on my computer and did some Internet research (after battling my computer for another 20 minutes trying to obtain an Internet connection, of course.) I found and ran a free spyware detector/remover called Malwarebytes' that came highly recommended on numerous sites. According to Malwarebytes', a service I found while browsing this site, I have 120 instances of spyware on my computer. Supposedly a free download (hmm... is it a safe download or just MORE spyware...) would remove all of that crap and free up my computer. I couldn't wait, the solution was right here and my troubles would soon be over. Well, let's just say this: NOTHING is allowing me to remove this stuff from my computer, not even the program designed to do this.

5) My 'gal Heather is having similar problems getting an Internet connection and she thinks it's a problem with Charter, our local Internet provider. Her husband, who is more computer savvy than little old me, wiped out her computer and re-booted everything, and her only remaining problem is in trying to get that dang Internet to connect. Since neither of us have any obvious problems with our computers outside of the failed Internet connections, she may be on to something with her idea. But what do I make of all of this junk I'm finding all over my C Drive and the sudden lack of computer memory? UPDATE: Just called Charter, there is a known issue that they are working on, but they don't really know if it's relevant to my situation, and they don't seem to know what exactly the known issue is. Niiiice...

Okay, I realize most of you are equally or even MORE computer illiterate than I am, but I think there might be a few of you out there that might have a suggestion or two? Besides calling in a professional, which will be my next step. (Argh, but there goes a decent portion of my Christmas spending...) If you don't hear from me every 3-4 days in the future, it means my computer was completely hijacked or is in the hands of a computer nerd, trying to be salvaged. In the meantime, ideas anyone?

Mommy Says...

After a late start, I cranked the music and demanded everybody get to cleaning up this pigsty that we call a home. I dug in, getting the kitchen presentable and sweeping all of the tile floors on the main level. Corey started eating the spilled bowl of dried cereal off of the kitchen floor, and the other two reluctantly started throwing everything on the living room floor into a tub. Ken flipped through the channels on the TV.

Once the floors were cleared, I sent the boys downstairs to get the basement cleaned up and I vacuumed the main floor and tried to encourage Ken to either go supervise the boys' clean up, repair the garbage can, or go shovel the driveway out. Ken decided to go sit in the recliner.

After the vacuuming was done, I gave Ken the choice of finishing up any one of the options I'd put before him, or he could get the boys in the tub. I then proceeded to head outside and shovel the driveway. It didn't take too long, the drifts had worked WITH me for a change, and 45 minutes later I'd put the shovel back up and returned to the house. There was Ken, sitting on the recliner.

Not only was Ken sitting on the recliner, my boys were right there, dirty as ever and still in their pajamas - obviously the bath didn't take place. Hey, but it was okay, because Ken was playing Simon Says with them, and don't they need their Daddy time? (It's amazing how men can justify being lazy.) Anyhow, Mommy snapped a picture and forcefully, (because nothing would get done if I didn't turn into a nagging harping wife,) demanded that they get their butts upstairs and in the tub.

"Are you going to set their clothes out for me?" asked Ken as he made his way up the stairs. I didn't even bother answering. All I know is that he might want to get himself moving because he isn't going hunting until the rest of my requests are met... Gotta love him, right?

Ken on the recliner, working hard at a game of Simon Says.

My Christmas Cards are Lame

My Christmas cards are lame this year, consisting of the 'best' family pictures I could dig up, all of which have previously been posted to my blog. I'm sorry, but after a very late start to this Christmas season, (I'm usually done shopping by now - I haven't really even started this year,) I honestly didn't bother trying to get a good festive picture of the boys. Those of you who have received Christmas cards from me in the past know just how unfestive, out-of-focus, and visually unappealing my attempted portraits of the boys can be.

Like I said, I grabbed a few decent shots off of the blog and used them to create my on-line Christmas cards in less than ten minutes. Forty-five minutes later I picked them up at Walgreens, and within two days, they were addressed and dropped in the mailbox. Well, the first 40 were sent out, then I ran out of cards. (I do this every year, you'd think I'd learn.) I went online to order another set, and darned if I didn't delete my project and have to start all over again. Ugg.

I decided that I should at this point at least attempt a Christmasy picture of the boys since it would take me just as long as my reordering, and just like every year, I ended up with a bunch of unfestive, out-of-focus, visually unappealing photos of the boys:

Like I said. Time to go re-make the original cards I'd thrown together...

Bounceland Wonderland

Bronson Rehab had holiday night at Bounceland, and since Corey is one of their most consistent patients, we were all invited to go and bounce on large inflatable toys for two hours. After a dinner of Happy Meals in the car, we arrived at Bounceland early enough to get a parking spot; a feat which has never happened in all the years we've gone to this event.

Corey and his PT, Becky, in the bouncy.

The boys played hard for an hour, and Corey took the time to antagonize his physical therapist, (payback???) and to just be silly and shy with his former therapist. We stopped a bit for cookies, cake and juice, and even managed to say a quick "Hi!" to Santa. The boys were especially nice to Santa because he had a REAL beard and moustache, which means it was very possible that this was the REAL Santa as opposed to one of his look-a-like helpers. Sadly, though, there was no time for pictures.

The snow was coming down pretty good on our way home, and the boys were open to a little driving-around-so-mommy-can- critique-all-of-the-Christmas-lights. It was just magical the way the lights glowed through the snow covered trees, greens and reds and blues everywhere! The flakes just fell out of the sky like puffs of cotton candy, and the boys were gaily singing Christmas carols in the back of the van, gently at first, then louder as the joy filled our vehicle.

There was Jingle Bells, which went; "Dashing through the snow, in a pair of broken skis, breaking into houses, crashing into trees! The snow is turning red, I think I'm almost dead, and now I'm in the hospital with stitches in my head!" Or the other version that went something like this: "9-1-1, 9-1-1, someone call the cops! Bring me to the hospital and feed me lollipops!" And we can't forget Joy to the World, which went like this (it's BAD,): Joy to the World that Barney's dead, we barbecued his head! Don't worry 'bout his body, we flushed it down the potty..."

Somewhere amidst the singing Shannon yelled out, "My toof, my toof, I dus pulled out my toof!" I guess that darn tooth was loose after all! Being as there was no blood and no pain and Shannon was simply in the holiday spirit, the event remained tear free; in fact, by the time we pulled into the driveway, Shannon once again cried, "This is the BEST DAY EVER!!!" And he hasn't rescinded that statement yet!

Hunting Excursion

My two handsome hunters.

It was Shannon's turn to attempt a hunting trip with his daddy, and after much preparation (thanks, Colleen,) Shannon ran out the door screaming, "This is the BEST day EVER!" He had on three shirts, a heavy camouflage jacket, jeans, snow pants, two pairs of socks, boots, a hat and two pairs of gloves. To entertain himself, Shannon brought along a wooden snake and Spiderman.

Apparently Shannon and Ken had a great father/son chat along the way... Shannon really does like girls and he likes them blond. "But don't tell anyone, promise, Dad?"

Arriving near their destination, they trekked about a quarter mile into a cornfield to get to their spot and all went well until Shannon decided it was snack time. Snack time just happened to coincide with the rustle of deer movement, and it all went south from there. The boys were back in the car heading home before dusk began to fall.

Needless to say, they were both frustrated with each other by the time they got home. All Shannon had to say by this point was, "This was the WORST day EVER and it's all DAD'S fault!"

Prep

I've made up the fluff (fruit salad,) baked a double batch of pumpkin pie, and I'm waiting on two loaves of pumpkin bread to come out of the oven. Now all we need is for Casey to arrive safely and we're set for Thanksgiving. Well, we'll be all set once Mom cooks the turkey and the makes the rest of the side dishes, that is. Too much work for me!

Money Maker

Yesterday Riley made $5 shoveling the neighbor's driveway. It was fairly cleaned up when he called it quits after one hour of hard work, and I gave the driveway a quick touch-up before the shovels were put away.

I figure I'll let him get his practice in throughout the neighborhood, and when he gets really good at shoveling, I can put him to work clearing MY driveway for free. Ah, forced child labor. I knew there was a reason I ended up with three boys.

Moving Snow

Today was the first official shoveling day of the '08-'09 winter season. I only had to move a little over an inch of snow, but dang, was it ever cold out there! I curse this bus stop all winter long...

Pushing 40

Okay, I'm officially 30 today, but it FEELS like 40.












I didn't fool anybody with that, did I?

I got TWO alarm clocks for my birthday today. They woke me up at 7:20 AM this morning (I'm usually up at 6:45,) blaring, "Shouldn't we be in the bathtub by now? Isn't it a school day?" I named them Shannon and Corey.

There IS such a thing as a stupid question.

Ken just called me from some field in Southwest Michigan and asked, "Do you want me to stay out here and hunt tonight?"

"Uhh...?" So we had a little discussion about properly forming questions, and he just didn't get it. He keeps trying to trick me into encouraging him to stay out hunting from dawn to dusk rather than just telling me that he's going to stay out hunting. Because no matter what I say, he's going to do it anyway.

His variations on hunting requests go something like this: "Should I drive all the way home just to go back out at 3:00 AM or should I just stay out here?" or, "If I came home, I'd just sleep, and I could sleep here." Actually, these statements/questions are really annoying and soon I DO just want him to stay away.

Finally, after he played dumb for about five minutes I said, "You know what? I'm scrubbing toilets. Do you want to come home and help me scrub toilets?"

It worked! Ken gave up and said, "I want to stay out here and hunt, okay?" Which is what he should have said in the first place.

15 Minutes

The boys just went back to school today after a (way too long) four day break. The first two days were pure insanity, and by Saturday morning I'd instituted a new rule to quiet things down around here. The minute anyone yelled, fought, hit, whined or talked back, they were immediately sent to their room for 15 minutes. Wow, are my timer-setting fingers ever tired!

Saturday turned out to be a very quiet day. At any given time, one to two boys were upstairs serving their sentence. I couldn't believe the silence! By Sunday, the boys had mellowed tremendously, so I treated them all to a bubble bath in the Jacuzzi tub. They loved it:

You'd think that after two days of strict punishment, the boys would have had it all figured out. Well, it snowed pretty good last night, so this morning at the bus stop the boys went a little nuts. Rolling in the snow, eating it, picking it up... things I don't allow them to do in the mornings as they're waiting for the bus. (They get too wet and cold, and I am not about to supervise 20 kids having a snowball fight at the bus stop.)

Needless to say, when Riley and Shannon get home tonight, they each have a 45 minute time-out waiting for them. I guess they didn't realize the rules also applied to school days.

Halhairious!

This site is so dang fun - it even entertained the three boys for an hour! Try it!

Ken with a jehri curl? Not so much...

There is a reason I liked the 80's/90's so much!

The boy's having a little fun at Ken's expense.

One Angry Buckeye

Ken was not impressed with the "N" drawn on his favorite cap with a permanent marker. Riley fessed up, and after Daddy gave him a talking to, it was Mommy's turn.

"Next time you want to desecrate a Buckeye item, get me and we'll think of a non-destructive way to do it, okay? Now... High-Five!"

Conferences, etc...

Ken insisted on going to school conferences with me today (10:00: Corey, 10:20: Riley, 10:40: Shannon,) and I wasn't really too excited about that prospect. He wants to be 'involved' with their schooling, as long as it doesn't involve helping with homework, reading to the boys, or transporting them anywhere - basically he just wants to be at their conferences and hear how good the boys are doing. So I found a babysitter, which wasn't easy.

Then this morning when I tell Ken to get up and get ready to go, (after I'd woken up at 6:30 AM, showered, bathed all the boys, fed all the boys, drug Riley and Shannon to their dental appointments, ran to the gas station and straightened up the house a bit,) Ken asks whether he really has to go with me, or could he just stay home and sleep? Wanna guess how angry I was?

The boys are all doing pretty good, so the conferences went well on that end. However there was one thing I asked Ken not to say at the conferences, and of course he went and said it. "So, is Shannon doing better than his classmates?" Embarrassing. And that was my morning.

Other things brought to my attention today:

One teacher said she thought our family was the Brady Bunch judging from the glowing reports Shannon was giving her at school. I guess that's better than Shannon telling the teacher I'm a frustrated psycho-mom who yells all the time.

Riley informed me (in a non-malicious way, I promise,) that if I would just leave, the boys could rule the world! At least until Daddy got home.

The new fluoride procedure our dentist uses is just gross, according to Riley and Shannon. It even made hot dogs taste bad (as if they weren't bad enough on their own.) We don't recommend it.

Three boys, with two beauticians, can get their haircut in under 30 minutes if you dangle the right carrot in front of them. A trip to the toy store. Corey didn't even flinch when the clippers started up.

When I gave the boys a choice of where to spend their $5 savings, Toys R Us or Walmart, they started chanting in unison, "Walmart! Walmart! Walmart!" Weird.

$1.97 X 10 = $19.70. Why I thought Riley could buy ten bags of marbles and it would only come to $10, I just don't know. Maybe I should be working on those flash cards, too. Maybe I should also look at the receipt before I leave the store.

I asked the boys to give me some Christmas ideas as we browsed the toy department, and it looks like shopping wont be as hopeless as it had once appeared. Of course, Riley insists that if he could just get a camcorder (and ONLY a camcorder,) he would be the happiest boy on earth. Riiiight.

A 30 minute period of calm in the house does not necessarily mean it's a good idea to host a sleep-over. The boys refuse to get along, and I'm certain that at any minute their friend is going to give up and go home.

When you're hosting a sleep-over, you just can't go to bed until all the children have. And it's going to be a long night.

Riley Hears What He Wants to Hear

It's one of those cold, rainy fall days where you just want to stay home and nap all day. I tried to get away with a mid-morning nap, at least, but soon responsibility was screaming in my ear. Inevitably I got off my butt, and I've been up and running since 10:00 AM. Finally, upon returning from numerous errands and Corey's therapy appointment, I had a few minutes set aside to relax before the bus showed up with the rest of my loud and demanding children. Hallelujah!

Right... I couldn't be that lucky. The phone rang as I picked up my latest book, and it was the boys' school on the line. They were calling to inform me that Riley was waiting for me at the front office, where I was expected to pick him up. I wondered aloud what on earth made Riley think I was picking him up, and the lady on the phone really couldn't say. I assured her that I'd be in to get Riley as soon as I loaded up Corey and got Shannon off of HIS bus, which was due to arrive in 5 - 10 minutes.

When I finally got to the school (45 minutes after dismissal, no less,) there was Riley, chillin' in the hallway. I figured he'd be upset with the mix-up, especially since he'd been sitting around for what must have been forever in child-years, but no, he was nonplussed and staring off into space.

When I asked why he thought I was picking him up today, Riley argued that he had heard an announcement over the PA that requested he go to the office. The poor office lady just looked at me, completely baffled, and said, "We didn't page him, but there was a sub today... maybe that led to some confusion?"

Maybe. I doubt I'll ever know.

Number Crunching

Shannon just informed me that Zero the Hero came to his classroom today. This character always shows up on days of school that end in zero, (10th day of school, 20th day of school, etc...) and helps children understand the value of numbers. I said, "Oh, really? What was it, the 30th day of school?" "Uh, no, Mom," said Shannon, as if I were some kind of idiot, "It's the 50th day of school." Can that even be right?

I guess time really must be flying, because according to my new Christmas Countdown timer at the bottom of this page, there are only 44 days left until Christmas. Can that even be right? I've been feeling the crunch, and just this morning I trekked out to the Teacher's Center and Toys R Us to get a feel for the crap, I mean toys, that they're pushing this year. Wow, we are screwed! There is nothing out there! At least nothing age appropriate, stimulating, or sturdy and containing less than 2,342 pieces or requiring fewer than 8 AA batteries and a 9V. Ugg.

And since we're on the subject of numbers, Riley just informed me that Obama promised to bring down the price of all video games to $5.50 apiece. I remember some campaign promises that made me scratch my head a little, but this is a new one. I did tend to tune out a lot of the campaign, so help me out here. Did he by any chance promise stay-at-home moms a three week all-inclusive vacation to somewhere else? I should have been paying more attention.

Dennis The Menace

Shannon reminds me so much of Dennis the Menace, and not just because he insists on wearing his over-halls every time they're clean. It's the little things, like the fact that he's always antagonizing his brothers, (no Mr. Wilson next door,) or getting dirty, or doing something absurd. Like stirring the toilet water with a marker to make the water change colors. Not only was that absurd, it was NASTY!

Dandruff

Riley is in a state of euphoria, and I'm beginning to spiral into my annual funk. Yep, winter is here...

Those are snowflakes in his hair.

Wake Up Call

I woke up today to the boys screaming, (at 7:30 AM on a weekend,) "It's snowing outside! Mommy, wake up! It's snowing outside!"

That pretty much sums up my day.

Getting Things Done

So I just got done mowing my (very green) lawn, just in time for the wind to kick up and cover it with leaves. Other people's leaves - we don't have a tree on our property. Okay, I did plant two of those swirly pine trees last month, but they don't shed. You get my point.

I had thought I was done mowing for the year - we haven't had rain in ages and we've had a few freezes. Well, my neighbor mowed yesterday and of course this accented the fact that MY lawn needed trimmed. So I did it. I mowed my lawn the day AFTER I hung up my Christmas lights on the front of the house.




I know, I know: it's too early for Christmas lights. But if Star 106.9 can start playing Christmas music 24/7 on November 1, then I can hang up my Christmas lights. Take THAT, neighbors!

A Curly (and OLD, Apparently) Version of Me

Okay, here is the curly look...

Cruella DeVille

Ever since I, in a postpartum funk, allowed Leigh to add a couple of highlights to my long curly hair, I have been dying my hair progressively lighter and lighter. Well, there was that one exception, where I went brown all over with weird red highlights. That lasted about 40 days.

Yesterday I made the decision with my NEW hairdresser to take my hair color in a different direction. It's much darker than before, and when I wear it naturally curly, the product makes it look jet black. I like the hair color quite a bit, but I'm guessing some of you will hate it. Here it is straight, and at it's lightest:

Please, no skunk or Cruella references...

Mommy had a Costume, too...

The neighborhood Halloween party was tonight and I actually borrowed most of my outfit from a teenager. The leg warmers are MINE, though. Did you see how much snowfall we get in Michigan? You need the leg warmers just to handle the cold!

Colleen wishing this hairstyle was still cool. Shoestrings rock!

Trick-or-Treat

What a perfect Halloween! Great weather, no whining, lights off by 8:15 pm, and a bonfire next door.

Riley is Luigi, Shannon is Mario, and Corey is the evil spider.

Who are Mario and Luigi, you ask? Game characters.

My Three Sons.

I finally got to carve my own pumpkin(s,) cannibal style.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Okay, they used patterns, but Shannon made the bat and Riley did the ghost and Jack-o-lantern almost all by themselves. Be safe and have fun tonight!

Weenie Evolution

Remember when I was a sarcastic little twit who had no problem saying what was on my mind? I had the impression that I was usually right - okay, always right, and if you didn't agree you were just crazy. And just to make sure you understood me, I wouldn't hesitate to let you know exactly where you're wrong in your thinking. (My husband is saying, "What do you mean, you used to be like that?")

Some days I reminisce about the way I used to be and wish that I still had the courage, confidence, and general disregard for people's feelings that once defined who I was. (I was an obnoxious bully, to tell the truth.) But, boy, when I was in a difficult situation my attitude sure did come in handy.

Those who know me best still deal with this side of my personality, but somewhere along the way, (was it Junior High or my child-rearing years?) I realized that I didn't have to be so snarky and sharp with everybody. Particularly with people that I barely knew. It began with a conscious effort to say only nice things and grew into a conscious effort to be open-minded and concerned about other people's feelings.

I still sometimes struggle with the opposing forces within me, one that wants to say, "That's a beautiful shirt you have on," and the one that says, "I would have loved that shirt... when I was eight." The more I know someone, the more likely they're going to get the curt (and honest) response out of me. And when I'm feeling insecure, sometimes the nastiness surfaces uncontrollably, like the time I told my new neighbor, "Wow! I love your hair! It's so different, you look so... so domesticated now!" (There's a reason I refer to myself as the Queen of Inappropriate Conversation.)

Anyhow, my point is, I used to say what was on my mind, but now I try to be as polite as possible, which is a very good thing, right? What I'm noticing, however, is that some people just need to hear it like it is, and hurt feelings just shouldn't enter into the equation. Especially when they, themselves, are clueless to the damage they've inflicted. (What the heck is Colleen referring to, you ask?)

I'm talking about my hairdresser. We'll call her Amber. For the last year or so, I've been paying big bucks while receiving mediocre service, BAD color, and uneven cuts from Amber. Twenty years ago, I would have thrown a fit after the first bad cut, demanded a refund and walked the heck out of the salon, never to return again. (Of course, twenty years ago, I had hair all the way down my back and had it trimmed once a year - impossible to screw it up!) Regardless, if that trim was not up to standard, I would have thrown a fit. If only I could do that today...

After the first bad experience with Amber, I chalked it up to a 'bad day,' and went on with my life. After the second bad experience, I paid Amber (handsome tip and all) without saying a word, then later I complained to a friend and swore 'never again.' Weenie.

For my next appointment, I called on Amber's day off and feigned an emergency, requesting anybody who happened to have an opening that day. No confrontation, no hurt feelings, and we all win, right? Wonder of wonders, the lady that did my emergency cut and color did a great job! (Sadly, though, she is also one of Amber's best friends. Argh, the dilemma!)

The last time I needed my hair done, I figured I'd do the same thing. I'd just call up the salon on Amber's day off and tell them I need a cut right away while sneaking in the name of the lady who handled my previous 'emergency.' It was a great plan and I didn't feel too bad about it. Until Amber answered the phone. Guess who did my hair that day? Yep, and it was not good.

So today, Amber's day off, I once again called the salon, and the lady answered the phone with, "Colleen, we were just talking about you, we haven't seen you in ages!" Crap, they have Caller ID! I thought to myself, "Well no kidding, you haven't seen me in ages. My roots are grown out so long that you can see them from a block away, and only because I didn't have the nerve to call and make an appointment with someone other than Amber."

What I said, however, was, "Who is this, is this Amber?" She assured me that she was someone else and asked if I was ready for another appointment. I froze. I panicked. I did what comes naturally when I become insecure. Instead of just requesting another hairdresser, I rambled on for four minutes, (my Caller ID can verify this.) "Amber is a great girl and all, but she really has been botching my hair lately." Inappropriate conversation soon followed. "Amber's coloring was so poor that I needed to have touch-ups the day after she just gave me touch-ups. Her cuts are uneven and what's wrong with her, anyways? Babble babble babble. I want to see that other lady. She knows what she's doing. Can you manage that without Amber finding out?"

Needless to say, I have an appointment on Wednesday, and I have been assured that Amber will not be in the building. I was also told that it was normal for people to switch hairdressers, it wouldn't be taken personally by anybody, and they were grateful I was at least still giving my money to the salon in question. Good deal, now lets see if I actually make it to the appointment after this ordeal. For some reason, I'm actually nervous and embarrassed.

Does anybody else have a hard time switching hairdressers, or am I just a great big weenie?

Enlightenment

I've had a few things brought to my attention as of late that you may not be aware of...

Ashes cause fires. This is the primary reason that one should not smoke.If that's not enough to sway you, smocking is also bad. Shannon mens it.
Riley drew up this one especially for his daddy. Notice the first stick figure flying through the windshield. At least with a seat belt, you only hit the roof.

Did you know that, even in an emergency, wiping with kleenex is a really bad idea? Shannon clued me in on this yesterday. The toilet is still plugged up.

My three little boys still love to snuggle with their mom. (The BEST!) If you get in the way of a snuggle session however, you WILL get kicked in the head by a sibling.

If you throw a Hot Wheel into a bowl of dry Fruity Pebbles, the cereal will take on the form of a nuclear explosion. Amazing. And difficult to clean up.

It may look like your husband is making the bed, but in all actuality, he is probably just trying to locate the TV remote.

1 - 2" of snow may fall tomorrow, and I still don't have a &*%$! snow blower.

Hungry

This evening Ken left me napping on the couch and went next door for a game of poker. (It's rainy, no hunting tonight.) The boys were playing pretty well together, I guess, because it didn't occur to Ken to wake me up.

Well, about an hour ago I woke up. I guess the kids didn't get enough dinner (cubed steak paprika, mashed potatoes, and salad - they hated it,) so the boys took it upon themselves to locate a late night snack.

They managed to annihilate an entire bag of snack-sized Snickers and a new box of Star Crunches in less than 1/2 an hour. On top of that, the boys weren't even smart enough to hide the evidence. Wrappers everywhere and chocolate all over my keyboard. When confronted, Shannon informed me that Corey ate it all by himself. Riiight.

Needless to say, I'm in a mood.

Nothing to Tell You. Unless...

Unless you have a serious interest in toilet troubles. Oh, you do? Okay.

Lately my toilets have been gross. Orangey slime buildup within three days of a scrubbing, and you don't want to know what they look like if you wait a week or two. Finally I sent Ken down to check out the water softener to see if it was even working. It was.

I've been hitting the toilets with a pumice bar and all types of toxic cleaners to no avail. The other night I picked up a couple of Iron Out tablets, thinking that might at least solve the orange problem. (The slime? I dunno.) Directions said to thoroughly clean the toilets, then drop a tablet in the back of the tank before it refills. I can handle that.

After scrubbing the first toilet, I lifted up the tank lid and surprise, there was the problem the whole time! About a quarter of an inch of clay-based silt lined the bottom of the tank and had ventured up the sides. For months this crap has been sitting there leeching into the toilet bowl with every flush. Wonderful.

I scrubbed one tank out by hand, and decided to save the others for later. I'm thinking a wet vac would be much more useful in this situation, and lucky for Ken, I bought him one for Christmas last year. It will be good to see him put it to use!

But the real mystery is how I managed to not notice the city workers flushing out the water system. After all, it's not something that's easily missed.

Funk and Bush

I am in a funk. Ken will be going to 2nd Shift in November and I don't know who hates it more, him or I. Probably him, but it's not too great for me, either.

I will have to quit playing volleyball, be the only parent full-time (unless I keep the kids up until midnight so their Dad can discipline and interact with them,) and I get to hang around at CCD for two hours each week rather than spend one-on-one time with my husband. You do not realize how much I am dreading this...

Knowing that my evenings are soon to be useless, Ken encouraged me to get out of the house tonight. I'd been wanting the see the movie W despite it's bad reviews, so Heather and I went to see it. Very strange, I must say.

The theater was over 3/4 full for the 8 PM show which really surprised us. Somehow Oliver Stone made this movie into a drama, rather than the comedy most people would expect, but there were plenty of chuckles throughout about 60% of the theater on a regular basis.

I know I giggled, especially in the scene where Bush was trying to have a serious conversation while eating a bologna sandwich, Cheetos, and a Dr. Pepper. You would have to see it to understand. Sadly, though, this storyline just did not have a happy ending... Bush is still the current president and all.

Anyhow, W was worth seeing if you like to watch Letterman's Great Moments in Presidential Speeches or clips of that nature. My sister Shannon would love to watch it and heckle away, I'm sure. And Kellie. And Dad. And Mom.

Well, gotta go watch SNL, the closest I can stand to get to political news coverage nowadays. Sarah Palin in on, after all.

Gone

What happened to the maps on my sidebar? Who took them and what did you do with them?

Honestly, I swear!

Change of Plans and Smudged Nails

I just found out that Ken has to work all weekend and now the in-laws aren't coming to visit. I am not a worthy person to visit on my own. (I wouldn't visit just me, either, so I can't blame them for opting out on this trip.) Like I told Papa, I can't get no love.

Once I realized that I didn't have to scour down the house in a mad rush for 8 hours to prepare for their imminent visit, I decided I'd paint my fingernails. (Nail Polish remover does NOT remove oil-based deck stain, by the way.) After applying my top coat to my best paint job ever, I realized that my only lighter was stuck in my back pocket of my way-too-tight-because-I'm-getting-fat jeans. What's a girl to do?

Of course I smudged half of my nails retrieving the lighter, so what the heck, I might as well go type on the computer, wet nails and all. It's not like typing is going to make them look any worse...

Little Things

1) Riley's tooth did come out. (See picture)
2) The boys came up with a solution for my empty wall in the living room. If only this picture could convey how much tape they used to adhere the poster... (See picture)

3) Corey is trying to go poo on the potty without assistance. Unfortunately, this is physically impossible when he has his braces on. Big messes have ensued.
4) The house is a catastrophe. I have 1 1/2 days before the in-laws show up to correct this problem.
5) Riley informed me this morning before school that I had a lot of laundry to do.
6) Corey's eye doctor said that we have to go back to patching up to three hours a day. Here we go again...
7) I have no groceries and no desire to go get any. I've been out of Coke for 19 hours already.
8) Ken thought he was going hunting after work tonight. See what happens when he thinks? (He was wrong.)
9) Ken will be getting paid for the overtime that he was initially denied. Sadly, we wont see it until the next pay period.
10) My batteries are dead in my camera. Again. It's supposed to rain the next few days so you'll never get to see my beautiful completed deck or the big rectangle of compacted dirt left behind when we got rid of the swing set.

Dad's Heart

Friday my dad (Old Irish) went in for a heart catheter test, a fairly routine procedure for him in the last few years. The test determined that my dad's heart was fine, but when they went to shock his heart back into rhythm, (also standard procedure,) his heart stopped and they had to call a code blue and perform CPR to resuscitate him. Luckily for him, Dad was oblivious to this entire chain of events as they occurred.

Unluckily for Mom, she heard the code over the PA and ran to my Dad's room and witnessed a portion of the lifesaving efforts before she was forced out of the area. Apparently it's not a pretty sight. On top of that, she was all alone while her world was crashing all around her (literally,) and she was unable to even dial a phone number for some time. Eventually she got ahold of Kellie's husband, who was able to spread the word and get Kellie en route to the hospital ASAP.

Needless to say, as the phone calls went out, various degrees of hysteria began growing among the daughters of Old Irish (or Lazarus, as Grandma now calls him - Dad is back from the dead, after all.) I was handling the news pretty well until my sister Shannon, with her uncanny sixth sense, informed me that while she was praying for Dad to pull out of this, she pointedly heard God say, "NO!"

Fortunately, after Shannon ignored the "No," and continued her prayers, she was able to do some serious convincing and Dad came back around. It took a while for Dad to understand what had happened, all he knew was that his chest was hurting a lot. The nurses weren't being very clear with him, referring to his 'event' or his 'chest procedure,' but finally it was put into terms he could understand - "They performed CPR on you because your heart stopped." Oh.

Once Dad was stabilized, they undertook one last procedure, which went much smoother than the heart cath. Dad was fitted with a handy dandy pacemaker. It's a well functioning device with quite the instruction manual, which both Dad and Kellie have already examined thoroughly. The pacemaker has been 'interrogated' a few times and apparently it is already telling the doctors exactly what they want to hear.

After getting the all-clear for the pacemaker procedure, I drove all night from Michigan to Nebraska because I was feeling a little left out. (Okay, I wanted visual proof that Dad was okay, and Mom has been through Hell lately and I had to see her, too.) By the time I got to the hospital on Saturday morning, Dad was looking and feeling pretty good, and the mood was much lighter, hence the jokes we're all telling about the events. Just don't ask about Dad's underwear.

Knowing Dad's desire to get the heck out of the hospital, the staff did a great job having him out the door before the first quarter of the Nebraska - Texas Tech game was over. Sadly, us girls didn't appreciate the punctuality of the staff at the Nebraska Heart Institute; as Dad was standing out front, we were shooting the breeze at the car and making him wait. A testament to Dad's patience, (hey, he's alive, he's not allowed to complain,) he took the delay in stride, and made it home safely.

Later today, the parents will be heading out for yet another funeral, (my moms Uncle, then his son, and now the Uncle's wife have all died over the course of the last three months,) and I will be heading back to Michigan. Hopefully Mom and I can both stay awake through our drives, and Dad can just keep that old heart a-pumpin' and stay alive a while longer...

Obscene Phone Call

I just had a crazy phone call that is the stuff of every woman's nightmares. Some sicko on the line, complete with heavy breathing and ominous whispering...

"Hello? Hello?" I answered.

"Puff, puff, garble garble," came back in a breathless whisper.

"Hell-o?" I said, a little louder.

More heavy breathing and some indecipherable comment.

My frustration mounting, I yelled, "What do you want?"

Amidst the panting a few urgent words became clear... "I... a big one. It was huge..."

Okay...

"...a buck, I think I got it! (insert heavy breathing) "...I don't know where it went, it's too dark... home late."

Oh. That's all.

"Call me when you find your way out of the woods." Click. (That was me hanging up on my husband.) Looks like I'll have to be the one putting the kids to bed tonight, after all.

Tooth Trouble

Riley's front tooth is just dangling, waiting for a good yank for it to be gone, and he refuses to let anybody pull it. Last night while I was at volleyball, Ken convinced him to run some dental floss around the tooth so that he could just yank the floss to extract it. Riley worked the floss under and around his tooth, but then refused to pull it.

When I arrived home, Riley was walking around with six inches of dental floss hanging out of his mouth. Ken explained what was going on, and it was all I could do not to just yank it out while Riley was yapping. Finally, I told Riley to get the floss out of his mouth and go to bed. Oops, one problem, the floss was stuck. It seriously was not coming out.

We tried everything short of just yanking out the floss and the tooth, but the floss refused to budge. I told Riley there was no other option but to just rip the whole mess out of his mouth, but he refused. He had a solution, and after about a minute, he had trimmed the floss down to about 1/2 an inch with a pair of scissors. Nice.

I grabbed some Oragel to numb his tooth, and then persuaded him to let me have a go at tooth removal. I don't like pulling teeth, by the way. Riley made me do three applications of Oragel before he felt he was sufficiently numb, and then gave me the go-ahead to yank out the tooth. Wouldn't you know, that bugger just refused to come out even though it's hanging out at a 45 degree angle?

Then I threw Riley an apple and told him to eat it and the tooth still held out. Nothing was working. Finally I sent him to bed, and this morning I sent Riley off to school with the dental floss and tooth dangling from his gums, along with one simple instruction. "When you're playing with your friends at recess today, encourage one of the stronger ones to punch you in the mouth. Then we don't have to worry about that tooth anymore." (It worked the last time his brother got him good in the kisser...)

Besides, didn't I mention that I really hate having to pull teeth?

I Have a Big Deck

Yes, the deck is huge (according to Riley.) We've done most of the staining, although we're only doing one coat this Fall, then we'll hit it good again in the Spring. Ken is once again having me stain all of the post's individually, which means the exiting ones will come down. He says it looks better that way (it does,) and that it's easier to stain (he is so wrong.)

A portion of the posts I will have to remove and stain one by one.

Deck. Deck.

A carpenter suggested that we lay the boards in this pattern rather than basically demolishing our old deck to make the boards stagger in the same direction. We are pretty happy with the results and it doesn't look like we threw an imported deck right next to an existing one.

Assuming we're not completely destitute by next spring, we'd like to get a larger patio set so that we can actually eat as a family out there. We will be able to fit a table, chairs and a grill on the deck for a change! An added bonus? The kids think the deck is an oversized fort and no longer whine about our soon-to-disappear playset (which was used twice this summer - I counted.)

Lights

It's Fall, which has become my favorite season of the year. (Actually, back-to-school time is my favorite season of the year, and that happens during the Fall. I hate the inconsistent, windy and cold Fall weather.) However, with Fall comes Halloween, one of my favorite holidays. At least until I have to make costumes, anyway.

It's been too cold to put my clearanced-out, end-of-the-season perennials into the ground (freeze warning tonight: 31 degrees,) so I decided to put out my Halloween decorations instead. I told a friend that I was going for the Tackiest Decorations on the Block Award, and if my really tacky things hadn't been destroyed in the (slight) breeze hours after I'd put them up, I would have won for sure.

Needless to say, my husband never gets around to putting up my holiday lights on the house, so I use stakes to put my lights on the ground. This actually looks pretty decent, but bad things can happen. I've had dogs chew up my lights, kids trip over my lights, and just last night, I drove right over my lights.

I had lined the driveway with purple lights, and I wasn't too sure if I liked them. They're pretty on the darkest nights, but dull at dusk. They also clash with the orange lights, which are sharp and bright. Well, my subconscious must have said to lose them, because as I pulled out of the driveway with a van full of kids, (we had to go Boo the neighbors - a weird little Michigan thing similar to May baskets,) I veered right over the purple lights and crushed 1/2 of the string into oblivion.

Ken was trying to direct me out of the driveway at the time, and he became very frustrated with me. (Construction work, toys, and his car were all major obstacles at the time.) After I realized what I did, Ken chewed me out for not following his instructions, which I hadn't been able to hear in the first place. (Four loud kids in a van, radio on, and windows up. Ken needs to come up with hand signals for, "Don't run over your lights!")

Upon reflection, though, I think Ken is trying to figure out how he can get me to run over the remaining orange lights, too. He's not a big fan of my holiday decorations, and certainly not a big fan of lights hovering over the ground. But even moreso, he's not a big fan of climbing on ladders and putting my lights where they belong - on the house.

Trashed

Shannon was sitting in the tub this morning as it filled, and when his brothers were climbing in, he yelled, "Look at that! Somebody cleaned the tub! There's no more dirt on the side, or on that wall!" He was pretty darned excited.

Needless to say, my full day of cleaning yesterday was sorely needed. I managed to knock out all but the basement, and the house looked really nice when I left for volleyball last night. Then I returned home...

The boys had knocked over my (freshly watered) plant all over the living room carpet, Club Crackers were trailed about throughout the kitchen and said living room, the bathroom sink was covered in dirt and water droplets, and Ken had tracked the landscaping dirt into the house (and left his muddy shoes in my kitchen.)

Really. Why do I clean?

After I returned from volleyball and pitched a royal fit, Ken then informs me that his brother is coming into town to visit, after all, and did I get the basement cleaned up? Those of you who know me could probably guess where the conversation went from there...

Of course I told Ken he'd better get to work cleaning the downstairs (bathroom, bedroom, playroom,) so his brother didn't think we were slobs, because I refused to do anymore work that was just going to get trashed when I turned around. Of course, Ken just looked at me and went back to whatever he was doing.

Well, today is the day brother-in-law shows up, and I'm getting ready to head downstairs and clean it all up. I should have time now that I've got the plant mess vacuumed up, the kitchen back into shape, and Ken's work shoes buried in the garage. I don't know exactly where those shoes landed after I threw them with all the strength I had in me, but I bet Ken will find them someday.

Not Gonna Mow

I really need to mow today and I thought I'd put some more plants in the ground. It's going to rain instead. Bummer....

Okay, I lied. The weather front seems to be stalling out over Illinois, so after I made (yet another) trip to the lumber store, I set the mower to high speed and knocked out the entire yard in almost one hour. It's amazing how quick it is to mow now that we've added rock borders and expanded that deck! (We should rock the entire yard, to be honest...)

Botox Sucks (and I hate that term but it's appropriate)

Most of you know that Corey, who has cerebal palsy, receives 4 botox injections into his legs every 4-6 months. The botox (yes, that nasty stuff people put into their foreheads, and yes, that stuff that is more appropriately referred to as botulism,) paralyzes his affected leg muscles, which forces him to use his 'good' muscles resulting in a more acceptable gait, or walk.

The last time Corey had his injections (where I have to physically use my entire body to restrain him while listening to his cries of, "Mommy, you're so mean, why do you have to be mean to me?") he had a bad reaction. His legs started collapsing from beneath him three weeks after the injections and he had no leg strength. Why? The doctor got him good. That, and he needed more physical therapy than he was getting to strengthen up his rarely-used muscles that suddenly had to do all the work.

It's been a year since Corey had his last botox injections, and I really struggled with the decision to do it again. Aside from the fact that I can't stand watching Corey suffer, the FDA had put out a warning about deaths occurring with high doses of botox similar to the amounts Corey had been receiving. I had talked to his therapists, I had talked to his doctors, and finally made the decision to go ahead with another series of injections at a lower dosage. Oh, yeah, and one other thing, I refused to go to the appointment. Ken had never had the pleasure of being the bad guy, and I was done with being privy to the torture (literally) that Corey went through on injection day.

So Ken took the day off and about 30 minutes ago, held Corey down for the shots. I've had an upset stomach ever since they left and I've been waiting for Ken to call me and tell me that everything went great and that Corey barely cried. Well, the phone just rang, and I didn't hear what I wanted to hear...

I answered the phone, and there was Corey on the other end going, "Mom? Mom?" I said, "Corey, baby, it's mommy, how are you doing?" After a big deep breath, (here goes...) "WAAAAAHHHHH!!!! Mommy, you made me get shots and that was rude and it's NOT NICE!!! WWWAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!"

I guiltily tried to comfort Corey, and soon had lost all kinds of patience. I kept saying, "Honey, put your daddy on the phone. Put dad on the phone. Put daddy on the phone NOW!" Finally Corey quieted and Ken must have heard me hollering for him, and he takes the phone from Corey. "What the hell were you thinking, making him call me?" I yelled. The whole point of Ken taking Corey to the appointment was so that I didn't have to be the bad guy or have the massive guilt trip (which I most certainly deserve, but can't stand) while inflicting this trauma on my own child.

"I didn't know he was going to start crying, he was totally fine when I asked him if he wanted to call you..." explained Ken. Well, duh!!! (Can I say that again? DUH!!!!) THEN Ken went on to explain that Corey did pretty good, only screaming for me the whole time, while the doctor gave Corey TWELVE injections. At this point, I really freaked out! How do you decrease a dosage of medication, yet increase the amount of injections from four to twelve?

Ken explained the doctors rationale (okay, I guess it kinda made sense,) and eventually I mellowed out a little. By the time Ken explained the chain of events, Corey was in the background, tear free and happy, asking if they could get a pop. I was still fuming about the phone call, but glad that Ken (and Corey) handled the whole thing fairly well without me. I would have had a breakdown had I been at that appointment, I swear. And I just have nothing more to say about it other than the thought of Corey suffering through twelve (did I mention TWELVE) injections, only makes me feel slightly nauseous at this point.

What's Up

If you haven't heard from me in awhile, there's a reason! My neighbor is redoing all of his backyard landscaping, and rather than pay for a demolition team, he told us we could have all of his rock and decking if we just remove it from his property. Over 40 wheel-barrow loads of large river rock and a small deck, not too tough, right? (My aching back!!!)

Well, after a week we had everything removed and our deck expansion has begun. I wasn't happy with the way my plants looked against the large stones, so I also ripped up my main flowerbed and inserted 15 new plants. You don't want to know what possessed me to re-rock this area twice in two days, but trust me, it really wasn't fun.

New rock and border installed in front.

Stripped twice, old plants removed, new plants installed.

Deck expansion has begun.

Additional rock (98% moved by Colleen,) without a permanent home.

The boys enjoying the neighbor's bobcat.

I DID take some picture of our rainy day fun, which I'd explained in a previous post. Here's Shannon and Anna taking advantage of the puddles...