Greatly outnumbered and in need of an extra extra large

5:30am, Mr. Man's alarm goes off. Mind you, I had stayed up quite late last night, thinking I would be sleeping in. I lie in bed thinking I should tell him there's leftover casserole in the fridge; an entire casserole to be exact. My breakfast casserole I took to MOPS was left untouched, except for 1 mercy piece my girlfriend Marfa took. (Martha, but being that my 3 yr old called her Marfa, it's what we call her) I hear Mr. Man turn on the shower. I think of how I should be doing a yard sale today. I keep telling my mind to turn off, and try to roll back over. I manage to bark, "There's leftover breakfast casserole in the fridge!" I'm up. 6:00am.

The boys are in rare form today. They are fighting, and bouncing off the walls. I will myself out of bed to shower and blow dry my hair. Bless my beautician, but when I told her I wanted "layers" she took it to the fullest extent. I must now blow dry, and straighten my hair to get it to resemble somewhat of a non-redneck cut. We load up and head to our local barber shop. We have been going to the same shop since we moved here. (They are the only barber shop in town.) The shop is run by the original owner, and his grandson. It's roughly the size of my master bath, and the decorum resembles it's original late 60s glory, with the exception of a flat screen tv that is turned just so that the barbers can watch. It is busy. We wait for nearly 45 minutes to get cut. Again, old man barber does not cut my boys' hair. Somewhere in the nearly 7 years we've been going, I've offended him, and only his grandson gives the boys a trim. We sit. The boys talk loudly. They run amok. They fight over kindles, and dsi's, they ask to use my phone. They loudly complain that people are "cutting in front of us" when they are not. 

Two hours later, we emerge. It's way past lunch. My plan of dieting is shot. This morning, I ate a "FULL BAR" with 2 glasses of water. I don't know about it making me feel full, but after all of the water, I felt quite nauseous, so I guess it did its' job. We stop at Sonic. An entire cup of water gets spilled on the van floor, and a random sweatshirt soaks it up, but I am determined to follow through with our day. I'm obsessively researching decor to redo my house. I want to check out several stores.

Store One.The two oldest boys are talking loudly and grabbing each other. I make them wait w/ the cart while I take the smallest one to the bathroom. I tell him, "I am about to tinkle my pants!" He tells me very seriously, "Mommy, you go first then! I can wait." I come out to find #3 missing/hiding. This is his new game that he find quite hilarious. He will continue this game w/ me for the rest of the day, only emerging when I call to him in a panic stricken voice. The oldest two continue to wrestle, yell, and do everything but walk with me. I give up trying to look at any breakables, and search for a blazer. My mom (who has told me on many occasions that I "dress like an old lady") has ordered me Lucky magazine. Blazers and skinny jeans are in this season. I try on a cute black and white checked blazer and remark that it's a bit tight around the bust, and wish there was an X-large. Cam remarks, "Or an X-XLarge for you!" We leave.

Store Two. The youngest lets loose and runs through a myriad of glass vases and plates. He refuses to hold my hand, and we leave the store with him screaming, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I DON'T WANT TO GET A SPANKIN!" 

Store Three. My nerves are shot. I feel numb. I have given up all hope of being able to leisurely window shop, and tell the boys they have 10 seconds to pick out Valentines for their class. A woman walks by and tells me how "brave" I am to be shopping with 4 boys. I tell her, "Stupid more like it." I realize this sounds harsh, and laugh and smile at her. As we take groceries to the van, I rip the bag containing the juice boxes, and have to carry them across 2 parking lots to our car where we parked at Store #1. My nerves are shot. By this time, all of the boys have been grounded, and have been told upon arriving home, they will be going in the back yard to run off their energy. 

Cereal for dinner. I am drained. The drain to the kitchen sink is plugged up. I tell Cam (who's job is to load the dishwasher) to stick his little hand down there, move the silverware, and running the garbage disposal. I run a bath for the two little boys. I come back to find Dylan and Cam using a plunger on the kitchen sink. The same plunger that was used to unclog the toilet this morning. Cam insists he'll "run the garbage disposal after" he plunges. I going in to wash hair. Kieran wants to know why they can't stay in and play. I reply, "Because, it has been a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day." As I'm soaping up his hair, Kieran says, "Well, at least you didn't slip in the mud like Alexander." 

We get through tubbies in 30 minutes. I guess the boys know I am at my breaking point, because none emerge from their room. Quiet house. I am not surprised when Mr. Man calls at 8 to tell me he is going to be late, and still has paperwork to finish. He calls back at 9:50pm to tell me he is on his way home. I tell him, "I cannot talk. I need to blog."

Do you all ever have days like these? Days where you hope and pray that sleep will wash your mind clean, and you'll be able to wake up and do it all over again? Well, you're not alone. I do too. And while the thought did cross my mind that "this is why animals eat their young," I am happy to report no such cannibalism, occurred today. And that my friends is all she wrote, for tonight at least. <3 Suzzy

Teeth, faux flu, and cleaning in your bra kind of day.

 I'm a big faker. I woke up this morning feeling achy, nauseous and with a pounding headache. (And no, I was not sipping any moonshine last night) I really did feel awful. Mr. Man, and the 10 yr old had headaches too, so we skipped church. Apparently, we're all big fakers, because by 11am, we were all feeling better. Mr. Man headed to the city to pick me up a TEAS test study guide and took all of the boys with him. *Bless him.* In two weeks, I will take my entrance test for Dental Hygiene School, and by May, I'll find out whether or not I'm in. This has been 3 years in the making. Why Dental Hygiene? Well, I like teeth. I can't deal with pee or poo, the pay is good, and the hours better. I blame Mom. Her power of persuasion seeped into my subconscious and thus I began my journey. 

This is a picture of a rootcanal in process. I got to see two of these this past week during my observations. I was pretty much giddy. That's how you really know this is what you want to do. When someone shows you different forms of rotting teething, and you feel all excited. My Mom told me "Believe or not, not everyone loves going to the dentist." WHAT? Say it ain't true!!!! Anywho, onto today....

 
Here's my dirty little secret: my bedroom & master bath are always a hot mess. Today, as I was on the phone looking for a pair of tweezers to get a few stray babies on my chin, I noticed the mold growing on the track of our shower door. 10 minutes later, I was stripped down to my bra and underwear sweating and scrubbing our shower clean. I'm not exactly sure how this happend, but I ended up taking a bucket of bleach water and scrubbing down the baseboards in the bathroom. 30 minutes later, my nose was filled with the smell of bleach, and I lost my motivation to mop the floor. 

Here's a rare glimpse into the least scene room of my house. Our bathroom is the most neglected room. I've never gotten around to decorating it. (6.5 years later) and it becomes of the catch all of "Only wore for a few hours, too lazy to hang it up clothes" and other random items I fully intend on putting away. The first 6 months were in the house, my hand towel rack, and the main towel rack fell off of the wall. Apparently, the previous owners' hubby wasn't much of a handyman. You would think we would have gotten more hardware and put it up. By we I of course mean Mr. Man. I blame him. I don't know what his aversion is to hanging or nailing things. The man will build me shelves, weld a fire pit for the backyard, and manufacture his own moonshine, er, ethanol gas, but he despise having to hang things. After I was done cleaning, tweezers long forgotten, I decided 2013 will be the year we do something with the master bath, even if I have to HIRE someone to re-hang those towel racks.
And dear ones, if anyone has any suggestions on bathroom decor, I'm all ears! I would really like to go for a black and baby blue, or yellow and something. I'm transitioning into happy colors: pretty greens, yellows, reds and blues!

My past week of randoms: Pat, overheard redneck, and hug a hero

I officially started my Fall semester at Motlow. This will be my 6th semester at this little community college, and hopefully my last. Parts of the campus are circa de 70s, while other portions look like they don't belong. Most of the buildings are..ugh, but the library is amazing.

The upstairs, where I usually nerd away

The Foyer

Sorry, I digress... Remember the SNL skit on Pat? Is it a he? Or is it a she? It's Pat!

My first day of Sociology, my professor walked in and looked up and declared, "Wow, just chicks!" Then, looking at "Pat" said,"Well, one dude, that's all right man, we're not complaining." The class just sat in silence, but I thought obviously my professor was grossly mistaken, this person was certainly a girl, right?...

Our next class, our professor asked Pat a question.. something regarding how their home life influenced who they are, but it included the professor saying something about Pat being a boy. Hmm. By this point, I was downright confused. Because our professor only uses last names, I could never tell if it was Ms. or Mr...fast forward to our 4th class. We walked in today, and our prof was referring to Pat as "Miss." Okay, now, I was just baffled. After the whole childhood-sociological-boy talk, I assumed the professor knew something we didn't. I spent the rest of class doodling and checking my curse word count since the professor curses like a sailor. Irresponsible you say? Not really. I realized my first class, that 20% of our grade is class participation, but the prof doesn't like to call on you if he thinks you're paying attention. He likes to catch people off guard, so all you need to do is interject and give one really good answer, and he purposely won't call on you for the rest of the class. (Side note, at first this annoyed me, because I'm a know it all, but then I realized I could use the rest of the class doing other work, so I just work ahead in the book and take my own notes) 

At the end of class, after I had made 21 checks on the curse marker for today, I went up to said professor to clarify the gender of Pat. I told him I was confused because I had heard him refer to Pat as male & female....and the ANSWER WAS????????

She was waiting for our professor this am in the teacher's lounge, and set the record straight. I feel really bad for her too. She seems pretty shy, which is probably why she didn't speak up during class. Still, this goes in my random items category. 

Oh, rednecks... While waiting for one of my classes to start, I overheard two rednecks discussing having to take a foreign language. Knowing full well this was good blog material, I started jotting down their conversation.

Boy #1: I don't really see the point. I'm American, why do I have to learn Mexican? I don't ever see leavin' here.

Boy#2: Yeah, but if you head on down to Alabama, dey got some Mexicans down there. You gotta talk that Mexican there.

Boy#1. I ain't never go down that far, I all got is right around here.

And lastly.. ever heard of hug a hero?....

 
These are dolls supplied to military kids for free for when their parents deploy. They take a full body shot of the parent, and then place the picture on the doll. Speaking as a former Navy wife who's been through 2 deployments, I wish I had had these for my kids. However, my story regarding how I heard about the doll isn't sappy, so let's get back on point... One of my girlfriends recently got divorced to her military spouse, and he's been a bit of a dead beat, so much so, that the deployment daddy doll has been hanging out with her son a lot. Today, she said when she dropped him off at school, her son said, "By dad! I'm going to school now, I'll miss you," and placed his daddy doll in the car seat. I'm going to rename this, the "Deadbeat Dad Doll."

Managing the chaos with a house of boys

Here's our house. I remember when we first moved in, it seemed so big, but as the boys have gotten older, it's begun to shrink. We have 3 full baths, and 4 bedrooms.

 

Liam has his own room.

And Dylan has his own room.

Kieran and Cameron share the room upstairs

With four boys, a dog, and husband who works 24/7, I used to really struggle to keep the house under control. Laundry seemed to pile up faster than I could wash and fold, dishes were always in the sink, and the kids' rooms would go from clean to disaster in one day. This Fall, I start my final semester before applying for dental hygiene school. I'll probably be the only person in history who attended college for 7 yrs and only came out with an associates. But, with four kids at home, I could only take a few classes at a time. This summer, I had had it. I'll never be perfectly organized, but the chaos was getting to me, and I decided, things needed to change. I started by purging stuff!

1. Clean out all closets and organize. Have you used it in the past year? If not, get ride of it. Each season, I go through the boys drawers and closets. Spring and Summer clothes get either hung up or folded in a bin in Liam's closet, this way, out of season clothes are jamming drawers or hogging space in closets. Each Fall and Winter, I evaluate each of the boys wardrobes. I make piles and count jeans and shirts. If Liam's grown out of it, I ship it off to one of my girlfriends who has a smaller boy. 
2. Store small toys in bins. I bought a 3 drawer Rubbermaid container and put it in Liam's closet. Top drawer is smaller Lego's, 2nd is for Lincoln Logs, and 3rd drawer is for big blocks. Cars have their own canvas bin, and so do mini figurines. Evaluate your kids' toy collection. Do they ever play with this? Are pieces missing? Is this a baby toy or have they out grown it? Before you get ready to toss those happy meal toys, WAIT! We help support a base in Zimbabwe, and last Spring, we took all of those little toys and mailed them to the kids in Zim! They're small, light weight, and for a 3rd World Country child, they're a treasure. I know of numerous mission groups who takes these overseas, see where you can donate!
3. Clean your kids room when they're not there! My kids would die knowing the stuff I've tossed or bagged up for the goodwill while they're gone. I've tried the partner cleaning bit, and it doesn't work. My kids are hoarders *I blame Mr. Man*, and they would keep every scrap of paper if I let them. 9 times out of 10, they don't ever realize that it's gone. Don't get all wrapped up in the emotion hub bub of certain items. 
4. Items you keep. Certain things, I save, no matter how ratty and worn they are: baby blankets, lovies, baby outfits the boys wore a lot, favorite baby toys. Mind you, this collection is so small, it all fits up at the top of Liam's closet. These are untouchable. 
5. Help you kids maintain. Question: How long does it take your 4 yr old to clean their room? Answer: Forever. Throw away the "principle" of the matter, and get in there and help. I usually assign 1 job at a time. "Kieran, put ALL of your Lego's in your bin." He can do that. "Clean your room!" is way more overwhelming than one given task. 
6. Daily maintenance. Every morning when I wake the boys up, I help them decide what they're going to wear. Telling them to "get dressed" did not work. #1. They would come downstairs in shorts and a sweater. #2. In the midst of choosing an outfit, drawers would be pulled apart, and hanging clothes would be strewn about. I ask jeans or shorts, and give them a couple of shirt options. They have until "3, 2, 1" before I decide and that's that. (Any arguing beyond that is -.$50 from their allowance." While the bubbies are getting dressed, I take 2-3 minutes and pick up toys and make their beds. Doing this everyday, eliminates the stress of a messy room! Clutter doesn't have time to build up. Also, if you have a big family like mine, wash laundry EVERY day. My process is fast. Wash, dry, fold, hang up, and call the boys. Even the 4 yr old puts away his own piles. Every dresser in the house is the same. TOP drawer: underwear and pj, middle drawer: shirts, bottom drawer: shorts and sweats. Everything else gets hung up, and everything gets put away neatly. Not items shoved here and there. It's our house rule, and it's been that way for years.
7. Mandatory 1x a week deep clean. "But it's not MESSY!" Exactly. Each Saturday morning, the boys are required to strip their sheets, dust their rooms, and make them vacuum ready for mom. Kieran and Cam scrub their bathroom, and Dylan & Liam do the downstairs one. It takes less than an hour, and it's their prerequisite for receiving their allowance.
8. Chore Charts and Behavior Charts, make your threats count. I've spent many years threatening, grounding, and yelling, only to forget which child was supposed to do what, or who was ground from their DS...until my "chart system." I have one chart for chores, and one chart for behavior. Stars are good, sad faces are bad. Stars earn rewards, but sad faces earn extra chores and punishment. 1st sad face= warning. 2nd sad face= extra chore 3rd sad face= punishment ON THE FLIP side, exemplary behavior earns stars.
   The CHORE CHART keeps track of who has done their chore or who's forgotten. It also keeps track of hanging book bags up in the garage, putting shoes in the cubby, and getting dirty clothes out of the bathroom after showering.

 
 
 Now, I KNOW what you're thinking. "Pain.In.The.Butt!" Yes, it is, at first. However, we're on our 3rd week of the charts, and it's a habit now. Discipline and punishments are predictable and fair across the board. And guess what? We've had the most enjoyable 3 weeks with our kids that we've had in a LONG time. It WORKS!
  9. Give them an ALLOWANCE. I swore I'd never do this, but my system I had wasn't working. My boys all do chores every single day. They do well in school and are good kids. Why not? Dylan and Cam get $5 per week, Kieran gets $4, and Liam gets $3. Obviously, the  8 & 9 yr old who empty and load the dishwasher are going to get more than the 4 yr old who feeds and waters the dog. Give them reasonable duties, and make them follow through. Don't allow them to slack. Trust me, after making them redo their chore several times, they'll realize doing a good job the first time around is much easier. I deduct -$.50 if they do not complete their chore before going to bed. No ifs, ands or buts. 
10. Don't break for your routine. We have strict rules during the school week. No video games or computer time. No tv until homework and chores are done. They come home from school, and immediately do homework, then chores, eat, shower, and then watch tv. If they are watching tv before dinner, their homework should be done, checked & agenda's signed, and chores completed. No exceptions.
11. Let them rots their brains out. During the Summer, my kids did nothing. Sure, we took a vacation, and went camping, but during our time at home, they rotted their brains out. Dylan and Cam would play video games so much their eyes would be all glassy and glazed over. We'd go to the pool and spend hours playing. I'd let the boys stay up late and watch movies. They'd build forts in the living room, and have brother sleepovers. They'd sleep in late and sit in their pjs all day. They're KIDS. Let them! During the school year, we're strict, but Summer and weekends are for relaxing and laziness. The house doesn't need to be a strict dictatorship. Set reasonable expectations, and if they fulfill them, back off. 

So, is my house squeaky clean? Absolutely not, and it never will be, but it's manageable chaos. The family room will always have toys here and there:

The breakfast nook will always have a few crumbs on the floor:

And I'm sure the bathroom will always have a few dribbles under the toilet seat:

The kitchen will forever be stacked with random piles of items that need to be sorted and put away:

At the end of the day, this is a very lived in house. I'll never be homemaker of the year, but I think we've finally found a groove in this whole routine business.