The goal is to keep them off the pole

My daughters are killing me.

I don't even know what to do with them.  I knew it was going to be rough, but I was not prepared for how EARLY this shizzle was going to start.

A while ago, the little boy from down the street started sniffing around our house.  He is about a year younger than the twins, so he was in kindergarten,  and he apparently rides the bus with them.  He started coming over after school and on weekends.
"Can mini me come out and play?"

  She would come out and then all the rest of my million children would just follow her outside, because, the more the merrier, right?

Fast forward to a few weeks after he started coming around.  I get a text from his mom.

"KND (Kid next door)  is coming over to ask mini me's dad a question."

"OK"

KND shows up.
"Mrs., Can I please talk to Admiral?"
 I go and get him.
"Excuse me.  I would like to ask if Mini Me could come over and watch a movie with me at my house?"
 The  Admiral looks dubiously at him, and says, "I suppose. Could Thumbelina come too?"
"Uh, yes." but KND looks a little disappointed.
He then held out his hand for Admiral to shake.
Admiral looked at him with amusement,  and dutifully shook his hand.

 The girls went over,  and are there for a couple of hours.  (Sidebar: Can. Not. Even. Tell you how awesome it is that my children can go to other kids' houses now and I DON'T HAVE TO GO!!!! No more awkward small talk with people I am being forced to talk to.  Yay!!) I walk over later to tell them it is time to come home, and KND's dad answers the door.
" HI!  Ready for your girls to come back? "
"Yep!  Thank you for having them!"
"No problem.  Did KND ask their dad if Mini me could come over?"
I looked at him strangely.  "He did."
"Good. I told him, if he was going to be asking girls to go to movies with him, he needed to talk to their father first and shake his hand. I didn't know if you could tell or not, but he has a pretty big crush on Mini me."

I almost passed out right there on their lawn.

I did NOT realize this was a date!! I laughed a very awkward laugh, and said, "uh, wow.  Ok. haha."

Fast forward to this summer.  It was the last few days of summer break.  Thumbellina was in her room playing with her Barbie's. Little Man was on the computer playing mine-craft (This WILL BE a whole other post.  OMG....I can't.  I just can't with the mine-craft.)  And Mini me was at the table coloring.  KND came to the back door and asked if she could play.

 Ever since the whole "date" episode, I just kind of have all the kids go out and play together intentionally now.

  Because....no.  Just no.

Well, On this particular day, Thumbellina was having too much fun with Barbie and her new RV she had just gotten.  She did not want to play outside.  Little Man feigned deafness when I asked.  Creepers needed destroyed, and what was I even doing talking to him?

So reluctantly, I said yes.

Even though the air conditioner was running, I left the back door open. I saw them swinging.  Then after a while they were jumping on the trampoline.
Then all of a sudden, as they were running across the yard, KND slyly tries to GRAB MY MINI ME"S HAND!!  To hold it in his grubby little mit!!
Much to my relief she shook him off and ran ahead of him.  I did a fist pump.
In my head I am yelling Yes!!  She shut that shiz down!!  That's momma's girl!
I continue washing dishes.

A few minutes later, I see them sitting on the trampoline together.  I stare at them.  They are sitting too close for my liking.  They are having some sort of deep conversation here.  I do not like this one bit.

I wait a beat.
In my head:
They are still sitting talking. 
 What the hell are they talking about??  
What would a kindergarten-er have to say that is so captivating to listen to?  
She starts smiling. 
 Why is she smiling?  He is a kindergarten-er, he isn't funny, why is she smiling? Stop smiling at him.  
He scoots closer.
Oh you little punk...don't you even dare think about it.....
But she suddenly hops off the trampoline, and walks over to the sidewalk because a friend is riding up on her bike calling to her.

Praises to Sweet baby Jesus!!!

In a few minutes Mini me comes in for popsicles.  I try to be super nonchalant.

"Whatcha guys doing out there?"
"Oh nothing, just jumping and swinging."
"Looks like you guys had quite an intense conversation out there.  What were you talking about?
She immediately turns red and looks away from me."I, uh, don't want to talk about it."
I raise my eyebrows.  Um. Not an option sister.  I drop my voice to a serious tone.
"What were you talking about."
"Nothing.  I don't want to talk about it."
The friend on the bike comes in, and I see KND run home from my back door.
"Oh we are SO talking about this later missy.  You just put a pin in that, and know I WILL come back to this conversation."

Upon later investigation, apparently KND asked MY MINI ME to be his girlfriend.  And she said....YES!!!!  

WHAT.....EVEN?????

Is this real life????  What just happened??

Here I have Thumbellina kissing boys on the playground, so much so that a TEACHER had to intervene, and now my other daughter is starting relationships with boys younger than her!

Fix it Jesus.  Fix it all...

When Admiral and I had the girls, we would say, "well, as long as it keeps them off the pole".  Time outs, discipline, work ethic, goals, responsibilities, spiritual well being....all of our parenting skills were to work toward essentially achieving the goal of "Keeping the girls off the pole" when they are adults.

But if these are the problems I am dealing with going into second grade, I shudder to think of what I am going to be dealing with a short seven or eight years from now. The pole  is the least of my worries at this point.

So I have come to the conclusion that I am just going to have to send them to a convent.  There just is no other option.  Do those even exist anymore?  It seemed to work in The Sound of Music for Maria. How DO we solve a problem like Maria? Well, I am going to send them there to figure it out, because no.  Just no.

To top all this off, I have Little Man, all of 6 years old, walking up to girls at the YMCA, leaning on the wall, folding his arms,cocking up one eyebrow and saying, "So, come here to the Y often?"

Stick a fork in me people.  I am done.

If you want to find me, I am locked in my room, with a bag of Doritos watching Gilmore Girls and ugly crying about how babies grow up and betray us by having feelings about the opposite sex, and then lamenting because they stop telling their mommies and daddies, "I want to marry YOU when I grow up."

I mean, is living at home and being my babies forever REALLY so bad??

Ch-ch-ch-changes....

There are times in my life that I am completely gung-ho-no-holds-barred-in-your-face-go-get-em with life.  I get stuff done, and the house is clean, and I am on top of the folders that come home from school.  Dishes are done and put away.  The dog is completely taken care of, including walked. I make my husband coffee and a hot breakfast, and take it to him into the office.  I have lesson plans for my preschool done for the next two weeks, with copies made, and all art project things prepared and waiting to be used.  We have meal plans, and schedules down, and discipline incentives are being implemented and carried through.

I am winning life in these times.

Then I have weeks like this week.

I have rewashed the same load of laundry three times because I didn't get it out and now it mildewed. Then mildewed again.  And then again.  The stuff in the dryer...it just lives there now.  I open the door to visit it and say hi.  It seems to enjoy these visits.

The amount of clutter is overwhelming.  I would complain about it, but I am pretty sure those coffee cups that are growing mold in them are mine because I haven't brought them to the dishwasher.  Funny, mold in coffee cups and in leftovers in the fridge are just about the ONLY plants that I can keep alive. I am actually quite a proficient horticulturist that way.

The homework and take home folders from school are so full, that the teacher had to take out the things, paper clip them together, put them in a regular file folder and start fresh. The homework gets done, but who has time to look at the corrected work???  Teachers, I adore you.  You are my people, you really are.  You deserve all of the things and a massage and a foot rub as well.  But it would seriously save me some steps if you would correct the work, and just put it right in the recycling bin because that is what ultimately happens here.  I trust your judgement girl...I don't need evidence unless there is an issue.

The dishes are just shy getting me my own episode of "Hoarders".  Stacked up to the ceiling, with who knows what all over them, and a funny smell that I just keep hoping will wash off once I get the dishwasher loaded. Is there a dead bird in there?  Maybe...we may never know.  I have the IHP's (indoor homeless people for you newbies.  Because let's face it, children really are just homeless people that live inside.  They wander around, dragging their possessions.  They lay around where ever they can find space.  And I am positive I have seen them eating out of the trash can.) do the dishes for me, but bless them....they are just really awful at it.  They actually put away an entire dishwasher full of dirty dishes once.  When I asked them, "Did you NOT see all of the crap all over them??"  Mini me just shrugged and Thumbelina stared at me like I was asking the dumbest question in the history of ever.  I pray for the souls of my future sons and daughters in law.  I hope they are full of the fruits of the spirit because they are going to need every. single. blessed. one.

My poor dog just stares at me. "Is today the day???  Will you walk me today??  Oh crap, you are on the couch.  It is not happening is it?" I tell him, "dude.  I have baby puke all over my shirt.  I have been singing wheels on the bus all day.  I also have had to listen to no less than 192,874,876 stories about Minecraft.  The house is a wreck and yet this is the first I have sat down all day because I am honestly doing SOMETHING and ALL THE THINGS, but I can not say what those are, because I swear on the life of Haley Joel Osment I can't remember.  I love you, but I need Netflix for 30 minutes. Ok?"  He does not understand this.  He continues to stare.

Breakfast has gone from Scrambled eggs and sausage, fresh fruit and coffee lovingly carried into the office, to, "I don't have time.  There are bagels and coffee in the pot." yelled from the playroom. Every man for himself, Admiral and children included.

Lesson plans are done the night before, and supplies are scrambled to gather right before the project is being done.  My students are getting very good at chatting with each other at the table while I mix paint.

Meal plans consist of, "yeah, I have no idea." and ultimately it ends up being tacos. Taco Tuesday!!  and Wednesday!! And Thursday!!

The chore chart has been all but abandoned.  I offer chore bucks (our incentive of choice) to anyone who will go bring me an iced tea from the fridge, or throw a diaper away for me, or bring me my phone that I leave all over the blooming house.

Why you ask?

I will tell you.

I now have all four children in school.  This means I must pack snacks, fill out slips, send in items, go to events for, and sign things for ALL. FOUR. CHILDREN.  I don't even want to tell you what I had to do for Little man with all of his million and five allergies.  For his epi pen, and inhaler, and steroids that I had to send in, I had to fill out no less than five million papers, a doctors asthma plan, and submit the blood of a virgin.

I also now have a child involved in extracurriculars.  Which means, I am at ALL. THE. THINGS.  In order to go to all the things while having to bring all the people takes planning.  "Is it going to be during a meal time?  I will need to bring food.  Is it going to be in between meal times?  I will need to bring snacks.  Is it going to be long?  I will need to make sure I bring some things for them to do.  Is it going to be cold?....."  It is not just, "let's go and tra la la."  It is a well thought out tactical plan.  Imagine a military mock up of the battlefield and pieces to resemble each child.  The Admiral and I painstakingly maneuvering and trying to think four steps ahead so that it can be a successful military operation. Seal team six sometimes has to be called.

On top of this, I have slowly started to try and reclaim some of myself.  I am singing on the worship team at my church.  YRH babysits the littles now, so Admiral and I are dating each other again which is absolutely amazing.  I am meeting up with friends again for drinks and dinners.

 People, being out in the public.....It is just as glorious as I thought it could be.  To all of my friends with children out there hesitant to leave your kids with babysitters....CUT THAT CRAP OUT!  Find someone you trust, and go out for heaven's sake!  Your kids will be fine.  I promise.  If you don't know any teenagers that are close to you, do what I did.  Hit up your church's youth pastor for names.  If you don't go to church....GO.  THEY HAVE CHILDCARE!  You can sit for a good hour in the sanctuary and have a thought to yourself for a moment!  I live for silent prayer time.  (Dear God....just...shhhhh......this is amazing."  Trust me, God believes in the ministry of a quiet thought alone with multiple deep cleansing breathes.

Then here is the cherry on the proverbial cake my loved ones.  I have a job.  A big wonderful awesome job.  I run a preschool/daycare out of my house.  My own children aren't even in it anymore.  This year, the ages that I have are 3, 2 1/2, 2, 4 months, and 2 months. The last time I had babies in my preschool was when I had Little man and child-that-I-care-for #1 (who btw graduated last year to go to kindergarten.  Cue all the feels.....) So I am adjusting to yet another new normal.  Baby normal.  And guess what.  Babies do not care if you want to do circle time.  They also do not care if you are wearing a new outfit that you got for your birthday. They are non-discriminatory pukers.

I may sound like I am complaining, but that is far from the truth.  I love my job.  I love babies.  I love that I am having to adjust because I get bored super super easy without a challenge.  And this is a big ol giant challenge.  But I got this.  Don't you fret.  I already have them on the same nap schedule, and it has only been a week and a half.  Go ahead, I will let you applaud.....

I guess the moral of this story is: life changes.  

You might think that the phase in your life that you are going through will last forever.   You feel you will forever be changing diapers, (well, in my case, kinda yeah because I do daycare.. unless that is you, you won't, I promise).  You might think, my kid is going to constantly be throwing tantrums until Jesus returns.  You might think your job or where you live, or the situation that you are living in is always going to be the same.  Well, I promise you, if I have learned anything in the last couple of years it is this:

EVERYTHING CHANGES.

Everything.  Even if you don't seek out to change it, it changes.  Change will be thrust upon you in some way.  It could be in a good way.  It could be in a less than desirable way, but it will still change.  Life ebbs and flows.  Kids grow up.  Jobs come and go.  People who you think will be in your life forever suddenly won't be.  And where a gaping hole was where they used to be, will suddenly be filled by something or someone else. Not to say it will take that person's place.  No one in your life can ever be replaced.  They have left an everlasting mark. But your time and attention will be shifted.   A relationship that was on the fringe, will suddenly be front and center in your life.  People will disappoint us, resulting in a change in trust. Our job, as people of this earth, is to learn to deal with this change.  We can try to fight it, but that is futile.  Or we can adapt.

I have found that you are stronger and more pliable than you think when it comes to change.  Something you thought you could "Never do in a million years" is presented before you.  Then a year from thinking that, you are up and not only doing but excelling in it.

You can do change.  Just wait.  I think you will surprise yourself.

Except for that laundry.  It is just going to live there forever and ever amen.

Saint Uncle.....I salute you

Hello, lovelies!!  It has been FOREVER since I have blogged and I have to say I have missed you.

The reason for my long absence is two fold.

#1. I have four children.
 In the time it has taken me to write these few lines, I have been interrupted no less than 139,874,795,875 times.  Questions like, "But how do I clean my room mommy? I don't know hooooow" and "Hey look what I can do mom! Isn't this the coolest!" and "Thumbelina is not helping clean our room momma!!  And most of this is her mess!!" (which I know is not a question but a proclamation, but never the less my mini me requires a response to even the most rhetorical of statements).

#2. I lost my funny for awhile. 
We had quite a few bombs dropped on my family in the recent.  I had blogged about my brother's cancer.  We are also currently finding a new normal in my extended family as we care for aging parents as a group and are figuring out how to do that.  In the process of doing that it has required a lot of emotions and emoting on my part. None of that was good for public consumption.  Finding out who you are while going through major life events has a tendency to suck the funny right out of you.  But fortunately, I have learned that I am a pretty resilient person, and new normals and funny things can be found in even the darkest of times.

So now I seem to be back to my old self with new and wonderful travels in the odyssey of parenting to share with you, dear reader!  Thanks for sticking around!


I thought I would start my return from the nether with a bang.  Have I got a fun story for y'all!!!!

First, let me give you an update on where we are with littles and your royal highness.

This year, YRH has started high school.  All I have to say about that is my baby boy is now not only taller than me, but gaining ground on his dad, and is SHAVING!!

Fix. It. Jesus.

How am I parent to a high schooler???? I remember high school like...really really well.  I know what sort of things I did in high school. I am not prepared for this.

Next, Thumbelina and mini me are now in Second grade.  They are into hair, and clothes, and big girl stuff.  What the actual what??  They are semi-logical, and you can somewhat reason with them once in a while.  It is surreal.

And finally, last but not least, and the star of our story for today, Little Man.  He just started kindergarten, which I know, I know....how in the ever did that happen?  Well, apparently if you continually feed and water children, they will continue to live and do stuff.  Who knew???

So before I start our tale, I have to give you a little back story.

Last year,  we have had to have several discussions about not kissing boys on the playground.  Becuase, well, we have had some issues with one of our daughters kissing boys on the playground.  (The admiral is currently dying a thousand deaths just reading this sentence.)  And in the process of the discussion at the table the night of one of the incidents, I watched the blood drain from his face, and I thought I was going to have to run for smelling salts. Though....I am not entirely sure where one would get smelling salts, I just know when one is dying a thousand deaths, one needs smelling salts.

But I digress.

We had a big talk about how we do not kiss boys on the playground, we do not kiss friends, we only kiss mommy and daddy and, sure, why not, your brother and sister.  BUT THAT IS IT!!  Are hugs ok?  Of course, hugs are ok.  You can hug all of your friends.  That is fine.

In addition to needing this lesson, Little man is learning about family.  I have a very very large extended family, and this is all very confusing for Little man.  He has trouble keeping all of the uncles, aunts, cousins, and cousins' boyfriends and girlfriends straight.  So we very often have to go over who all is and is NOT in our family.  His mind was literally blown apart when I explained that his cousin was getting married, and though, no, her fiance was not a part of our family yet, as soon as they are married, he will, in fact, yes, be a part of our family from there on out.

Head. Canon.

Allow me to fast forward to our story.

My sister's wonderful husband had promised Little man that he would let him come over for a camp out in the backyard during the summer. (We all know, momma doesn't camp.)  As with most summers, they go by fast and all of a sudden there is no summer left.  So the first Friday after Little man's first week of school, he called me.
"Would he like to camp out tonight?  I am free. I just need a tent."
"Oh yes, he is going to freak out!  He would love that. I have a tent you can use."

Plans were made, time was set.  Little man was psyched.

That evening, Little man heads over to the campout.  Just he and his Uncle.  The tent was set up, fire in the fire pit.  Marshmallows and sticks ready.

I received a ton of texts from my brother in law with pictures of Little man roasting mallows, running in and out of the tent, feet up by the fire. Flashlight shone creepily on his face.  He was having a ball.  At about 10 pm, his uncle said, "Hey let's go up and play at the park!  It is night time and we will have the place to ourselves!"  Little man grabs his flashlight and is already running.

They get there, and apparently, because of the nice weather, they were not the only ones who thought a night time play session was a good idea.  Most of the neighbors and their kids and/or grandkids were there, talking and playing, and socializing.  After a little while, Little man is climbing on the play structure clear across the entire playground.

He yells to his uncle at the top of his lungs (which btw is he is already really really loud, so this is even louder) "You are my uncle right?"

Now, looking at this through the neighbor's eyes, this question....it looks super suspicious, right? "why is he asking this?  Did he snatch this kid off the street by saying he is his uncle?"  It just sounds wrong, doesn't it?

Little man is not done.

His uncle (Who I am calling now and forever more, saint uncle.) replies, "Yes.  Yes I am Little man."

Little man pauses for only a moment before pointing his finger at his uncle and saying, "You can hug me, but you can't kiss me." and returns to climbing on the structure.

Get. The. Smelling. Salts.

Saint uncle was not dying a thousand deaths. He was dying 4,982,349,874 deaths at this point.  Surely the cops were being called.

Upon relaying this story to me, saint uncle said, "Honestly at this point I was tempted to just yell back, 'Ok little man, now get back in the tent in my back yard', because I could not have been any creepier to these people."

Saint uncle.....I salute you....

Brace yourselves....

It is happening people. 

A day that I have dreaded is upon us.

I saw it coming, and nothing I could do would stop it.  No amount of preparations could get me ready.  It came whether I liked it or not.

Next week.....

I turn 40.


I will give you moment to recover.


Not that 40 is even considered old anymore by most groups of people, (and when I say groups of people, I mean anyone 40 or older), but it is just the end of an era.  And along with this milestone, certain things are expected.  Things that I am not sure I have under my belt yet.  

1. I still have not decided what I want to be when I grow up.
You would think by the age of 40, after having been in a certain field for so long, that you have achieved what you wanted to do with your life...career wise.  You would be WRONG in my case.  I am a stay at home mom/home preschool teacher.  I like teaching.  I tolerate children very well.  I manage to teach these little germballs the basics, and more, before they flit off to school when they are 5ish.  I do my job very well.  But when I close my eyes at night....I .see myself doing something different.  I still have visions of being a Broadway star. (In case anyone did NOT know, I went to the Ohio University school of music to become just this thing.  I am still scratching my head about how my path forked so far left that i ended up singing twinkle twinkle little star to a bunch of people that would prefer to hear Mickey Mouse sing The Hot Dog song. I was in Carmina Burana for crying outloud!!!  But I digress..)   So do I like my job...yes.  Do I love my job...sure.  Is this what I want to be when I grow up?  Meh.....

2.  I still like to do my hair like I am in high school
Being a kid from the 80s-90s, I was in that big hair era.  So do I mean that?  No I do not.  Some things are better left in memories.  (Aquanet is still be expelled from my lungs.....)  I mean that I enjoy a good messy bun,  or 5, piled all over my head.  I like a crown of braids.  I like pigtails.  I like scrunchies  But in all honesty...how many 40 year olds do you see wearing their hair like that?  I have a choice. I Can wear it down (which unless I am doing my hair daily, AND I AM NOT, I have 4 kids for crying out loud I am lucky to get a shower, this is not happening.)  Or a ponytail.  And at age 40, can one even do a cute high ponytail and NOT look like they are trying too hard to be young?  Do I HAVE to do a low sophisticated ponytail?  Because the back of my neck still gets hot when I do this, and the point of the ponytail is because it is hot and in my face while I am dancing the hot diggity dog.

3. I have not lost that babyweight yet.
I still have that pesky 30 pounds hanging on that I meant to lose after I had my last kid. And at this point, he is 5, so there really is no saying it is babyweight anymore.  Let's call it what it is...Tacos.  I have a taco baby sitting right around my lower belly....(and arms, and butt, and legs....but don't worry about it), This baby is entirely made out of corn tortilla and nacho cheese.  It may possibly have a strong bloodline of white and red wine flowing through it's circulatory system.  But the point is...it NEVER WENT AWAY.  I did weight watchers.  I did fitbit.  I did my fitness pal.  But guess what? I discovered that I really like tacos, and Netflix.  So we are at in impasse.

4. My house doesn't have a STYLE
I thought that by this time, I would have figured out a decorating style that I liked.  Like my sister, who has lovely art on the walls.  She has an entire bathroom dedicated to front doors.  I am not kidding.  Her bathroom is decorated in pictures of front doors from her family. With two old doorknobs from our house growing up  or someone's house growing up that has some sort of historical value to her.  It is put together.  It looks nice.  It says, "Welcome.  I have my life together."  My house when you walk in says, "It was on sale, and we needed something to hold our shoes." Our art?  Family pictures, school pictures, deflated balloons from a a birthday party a month ago and dirty hand prints.  There is also a splattering of bananas on the wall that I may or may not leave because it looks amazingly like Mother Teresa.  I have no real art on the walls, except one painting that I PAINTED at a wine and canvas party.  (had to feed that taco baby it's wine...)


5.I don't feel 40

But mostly, I do not FEEL like I am 40.  When I close my eyes and look at the picture of myself in my head, I feel 30.  I feel like I am older than my 20's, because I have earned that.  Sleepless nights, working hard, pushing through life's obstacles, I FEEL like I am past that 20 and irresponsible stage.  Plus I do have a modicum of wisdom about life under my belt.  Things I have learned:
-Don't spend too much on credit cards
-It is ok to say hi to someone you think is cooler than you, because they aren't.
-There really is no such thing as COOL when you are adult.  You can wear the trendiest clothes and the trendiest hair, but chances are, you had to clean up your dog's poop just like the rest of us. And if you had a baby, a whole room full of strangers you will never see again have seen the holiest of holies.
-Your hair WILL grow back.  So if you regret those bangs, or that pixie cut, time will heal.
-Staying up late drinking will hurt the next day. You will regret it.  But you will do it again.
-It is ok to like yourself.
-It is ok to BE yourself
-Tacos are delicious

Though I don't feel like I am 40 in my head, there are certain things I can't do anymore that remind me I certainly am NOT 30 anymore. I can NOT:
-get up off the floor without saying, "Ugh"
-get up in the morning without saying "Ugh."
-Walking across the room after sitting too long without something making a popping sound.
-Sit on the floor for longer than 15 minutes without repercussions.
-Drink too much on a worknight
-Eat after 8 without heartburn

-drink caffeine after 5 without trouble sleeping
-go all night without getting up to go to the bathroom

So it is coming.  I see it on the horizon.

 Freaking 40.

 Oh well, at least there are tacos.

May we bow our heads

I truly believe that I have adult ADHD.

As I go along my merry way here in life, I have noticed things that have lead me to believe this. For one, I have a really really hard time sitting still for any length of time.  I barely make it through movies anymore.  And if we are watching a movie at home, forget it.  I am up, getting snacks, cleaning up messes, filing taxes....whatever.  I just can't do it anymore. 

Which is what brings me to today's pondering.  I can't make it through an entire prayer start to finish.  I try!  I really do!!  But ultimately two things end up happening. 

#1, I start my bedtime prayer every night the same.  "Dear Father, thank you so much for all of the blessings you have given me today...."  Then I will either go into specifics of wonderful things I have been blessed with, or I will praying for friends and anything that they may be dealing with.  I should say, START to pray for them.  Because this is what happens.  "God, please help my daddy.  Help his body to heal......zzzzzzzz *snore*"  I fall asleep ridiculously fast.  And that is even if I make it that far.  I have even started with "Dear Father.....zzzzzz *Snore*" 

But that is bedtime prayer.  If I am trying to do any type of quiet time, the following happens.  Every. Single. Time. 

5:00 I wake up.   Oh, look.  5 am.  I have time to myself before people wake up.  Awesome.  I will make some coffee and do quiet time this morning.  Oh, (stretching) ow.  Ow ow ow.  My knees and back.  Ow.  Just ow.  When did I get old?  Ugh.  (Walking downstairs) why does coffee have to take so long to perk.  I want it now.  
Coffee is ready, and I am on the couch ready for some quiet time.  I bow my head.

Dear God, thank you for a great nights sleep.

 Sleep. 

 It wasn't really a great nights sleep, I am pretty tired.  I think maybe we need a new mattress.  How old is our mattress?  I think it is like 12 years old.  Aren't you supposed to replace it after like 8 years.  Eh, that is a gimmick by mattress companies just to get you to buy mattresses.  Oh, I am supposed to be praying.  

Thank you God for coffee.  Oh yeah, and that reminds me a little of that prayer Our pastor taught our kids.  That one he sings to the tune of Superman....:Thank you God....for giving us food....- Yeah, I thank you for the food God, but I don't know if I can sing that one more time.  The kids want to do that one CONSTANTLY. Thanks a lot Pastor Terry.... Oh yeah, I need to sign up for that membership class as church.  I think it is time.  Oh oops, back to praying....ummm,

 God please help me to be patient with the children today.  Help me not to yell at them.  But you know, if they would just listen I wouldn't have to yell so much.  I mean for crying out loud, I know they hear me!  But maybe Little man can't.  He seems to have a really hard time with that.  Maybe he has a hearing problem.  I should probably get his ears looked at.  They are pretty waxy.  Oh gosh, what if  he is going deaf?!  I don't know what I would do!  Do you have to get a service animal if you are deaf.  If so, I bet that our new dog would be awesome at that.  He is so smart!  I can't believe how fast he learns.  Now if I could teach him to pick up his own poop we would be in business.  Heh heh, business.  Like dog business.  I guess we wouldn't be in business, HE would literally be in business...oh geez, back to praying. 

 Ok, ummm, God, please give me energy and strength to keep up with these people today....Oh. My. Gosh....is that a BOOGER on the wall??  That is disgusting.  WE are disgusting.  I don't even want to know who did that.  I don't.  Ugh, I will have to clean that up.  I really need to deep clean.  This house is a mess.  There is dust all over that baseboard.  I don't think I have EVER dusted that baseboard.  How long have we lived here?  Almost three years?  I haven't dusted baseboards in three years.  We live like pigs.  I don't even want to know what is creeping under that refrigerator.  I should probably clean that out too.  I think I saw some chili in a container back there.  I can't even remember the last time we had chili.  Eww, I bet its furry.  Like the FUR UNDER THE TABLE.  Good Lord, look at that.  Oh....whoops....Lord, I was talking to you. 

 Sorry.  Ummm....where was I? 

 Oh, strength.  Please give me strength today.  You know, if I worked out more, I would have an easier time keeping up with these people.  I like to swim.  I did get the membership to the YMCA, maybe I should try doing it in the morning when they open at like 5am.  Yeah but then I wouldn't have much time for quiet time....WHICH I AM SUPPOSED TO BE DOING NOW!!!!  Ahhh!!!! 

 Ok, For real.  God, please bless all of these people on my prayer list.....(I read through my list of special needs, then come to my normal list of people I pray for daily) Fernando...Oh man, wonder what he is up to.  I really should call him.  Its been what, two years since we actually talked?  I mean, we text sometimes, but that isn't the same as hearing his voice.  Of course we do have different lives now....I am married with the admiral, and have four children, he is single with none...

Oh, yeah, prayer list.....

Ummm, please watch out for my bestie who runs the hotel.....oh, I miss her.  I need to get up there to see her.  That was so cool the last time I went up.  There was a giant deer out side my window when I woke up!  I wonder how many deer go through our yard.  Well, if they eat voles they can come anytime.  Stinking voles eating up our yard.  I am telling you.  I am going to break an ankle if they don't stop digging holes.  Maybe the dog will catch them.  Little rodents.  I hate mice.  Germ carrying, bubonic plague nastiness.  Wonder if the bubonic plague would even happen again.  That would be freaky.  Reminds me of Monty Python's Holy Grail..."Bring out your dead!!!"  hahaha....dead....holy....crap, Praying, right.  ummm, 

(Footsteps heard overhead.)

 Ugh, kids up.  Well, I will hurry this up God.  Please bless my family, friends and children today.  Give me strength and guidance.  And hope you have a good day too!  Love you. Amen

And that is why when I get to heaven, God is going to say, "Tiffany, so happy to see you. The Adderol is right over there."  

Mommy needs a tissue.

Grief is a weird thing.

There are no rules.  There is no handbook on "this is the way you are supposed to handle a death in the family" and it be in black in white.

There are suggestions from experts.  There are stages, but no one follows them to the letter.  It is a bizarr and weird and sad, and happy time all at the same time.

You made a weird face that I said happy didn't you?  Well, it kinda is really, at moments anyway.  One minute you will be crying and sad because of the loss you feel, the regret of things you didn't get to do or say.  And the next moment you are laughing about a memory that is so funny, and with the sadness behind it, it only intensifies that laughter.  It also feels like sometimes things that were not funny at the time, are extremely funny after a person passes away.  A certain mannerism, or a reaction to an event, that may have been embarrassing or cringe worthy at the time,  is downright hilarious after the person is gone.

My mother in law passed this weekend.  So we have been dealing with the tsunami of emotions that are rushing at us in the wake of that earthquake. I feel like as a parent, explaining to my very small children what death is, has been eye opening, and has actually completely simplified some of the process.  It makes things that we THINK are completely gray in color, black and white again.  Here is a conversation with me and Little man:

Little man:  Mom, did grandma go to heaven?
Me: Yes sir she did.
Little man: is Thor up there with her?  (by the way, that dog I blogged about forever ago that I was so worried about his passing...well it happened.  On the twins' birthday which also happened to fall on Easter this year.  He got the last laugh on that one I think. Little jerk.  I loved him so much.)
Me: I would say absolutely yes.  (Come on, I have no idea whether or not dogs really do go to heaven, but I am going to say yes because I certainly want to believe that too.  Plus, I feel like if I need my dog in heaven, God loves me enough he is going to put him there.  So yes, dogs go to heaven.  Suck it theologians.) 
Little Man: Do you think he is chasing bunnies?
Me: Of course.
LIttle Man: Do giraffes go to heaven?
Me: Sure.
Little Man:  I can't wait to see the dinosaurs!!

Is he asking me about the soul qualifications of animals and whether or not they need one to get to heaven?  No.  Animals go to heaven, be it dogs or giraffes or dinosaurs.  Black and White.

I think the hardest part of grief is letting my children see me cry.  I know we as mothers hold it in, and hold it in until we feel as if we are going to burst.  Why do we do that?  Isn't it NORMAL to cry sometimes?  When we are overwhelmed, when we are sad, isn't crying an appropriate response?  When we feel as if we can't do it all, we will cry in the bathroom alone, and wait until we are presentanble again.  Why are we ashamed of that emotion?  We let our children see us happy, and excited and angry and proud.  Why is grief so taboo that we can't let our children see this, and process seeing us sad?  Is this not a life lesson to learn as well, that crying is ok? That it is appropriate to be sad and let tears flow?  I feel like our children deserve to be allowed to see their mother's cry.  They deserve to have that lesson.

As in any grieving process, the Admiral and I also had some anger which resulted in an argument at one point. Because I was so raw  in my emotions, I was crying while taking Little man with me to the grocery.

Little Man: Mom are you going to put your tears away? (this is how I ask him to stop crying when he is throwing a fit)
Me: I will soon.  Daddy was just angry and I was angry and now I am just sad about that. I don't like when daddy is mad at me, and I don't like to be angry at him, it isn't a good feeling.
Little Man: I don't either.  But, just because someone is angry, doesn't mean they don't love you.
Me: (crying even harder) You are so right.  When did you get so smart?
Little Man: I do ABC mouse on the computer....

It may be hard for them to see the tears, but I feel it is necessary.  Crying should not be scary and unknown to them.  Just as anger and fear can be shown in doses, so should sadness.  So in the words of Elsa, I am going to make sure to   "Let it Go" if I need to. 

The other thing I have noticed with grief, it is such a strong thing, that evokes such strong emotions from everyone, and since no one deals with grief the same, sometimes there is some serious DRAMA.  I don't' know about you, but as a lover of spectating other people's drama, I don't so much enjoy when the drama makes me be a participant.  Watching=fine and entertaining.  Being thrust out upon that stage.....not so much fun.  I feel like this is where I keep chanting the mantra that Jenny repeated over and over in the movie Forest Gump, "Dear God, make me a bird, so I can fly, far far away"  Why do people do that???  Why make drama??  Isn't this process hard enough without  adding crazy to the mix?  Personally, I just want to focus on my family.  Peddle your crazy elsewhere, I am full up here, thanks.

Really I have no point of closure to this rant.  All this is, is a rant not a story, not a lesson.  Just me pondering this whole process as I live it.  Grief is just so strange.  It is messy, and dirty, and a roller coaster of emotions.  And eventually, it fades.  For days it is all you think about, and then one day  it isn't the first thing you think about when you wake up anymore.  It is the second thing, then the third thing, then finally it is the last thing you think about before bed.  And ultimately it is the thing you just remember when something reminds you.  Grief is weird, but it is tolerable.  In actuality, it is inevitable.  And it is something that, though different to everyone, I feel, must be taught to our children that it CAN be handled , so that when they are in the midst of it, they can remember," my mother/father went through this and lived, so I can do this."   It is our responsiblity as their parent.

Being an adult really really sucks sometimes.......

  

Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Hyde

I think that the first person diagnosed with multiple personality disorder was a tween.

I have no idea when it happened.  It was like one night I sent my little boy to bed, perfectly content with playing with star wars action figures, having Nerf wars, and watching Fireman Sam on Sprout.  Then in the morning this surly, dour, tween came out of his room after sleeping in until 10am.

Your Royal Highness (as we like to refer to him) is now 12 years old.  He had his birthday over a very long car ride from our House to Denver for a family vacation.  This did not please his majesty, but he will definitely get over it.  YRH (for short) was always such a sweet boy.  He was always a very good boy too.  With a shock of red hair on top of his little pale freckled head and sparkly blue eyes, he was just the cutest little boy.  He was always happy, always positive and looked on the bright side. One night I sent him to bed, kissed and hugged him good night at the usual 9pm.  At 10 am the next morning, Mr. Hyde came out of his room.

The thing that they don't tell you about tweens is that they absolutely pull Jeckle and Hyde with you on a daily, sometimes hourly, some times minute-ly basis.  One second they are too school for cool, and the next they are wanting to curl up in your lap and have you play with their hair.  One second they are talking about the "CPR" (chick progress report), and then in an instant they are playing with little green army men and having a "war" in the playroom.  One minute they are watching "The Avengers" with you at the theater, then come home and turn on "Paw Patrol".

YOU NEVER KNOW WHO IS GOING TO SHOW UP!!!

Parent.  Beware. 

This can make talking to them a very very tricky tightrope to walk.  On Monday when you joked with your tween about how when his hair grows a little too long, it kind of bushes out like Lego hair, you both laughed and had a good chuckle about it.

But beware.

 If you bring it up again later on your way to the barber, He may glare at you and say, "You are so mean to me.  Why do you always have to pick on me."  To which you will then spend the entirety of the car ride to the barber apologizing and trying to make up for it by telling him all of the wonderful things that you DO love about him.

One afternoon you ask your tween if he will please go up and straighten up all of the legos in his room so that you can vacuum, and he responds with a smile and "sure mom!" but then the following week you ask with the same demeanor and tone of voice and are then presented with an eye roll, and a sassy, "Gaaaaawd, I have to do EEEEEEEEVVVVERYYYYYY thing around here!!!!"  followed by stomping up the stairs.  In this case it is very very easy to retaliate with listing all of the things that YOU do indeed do around the house and how in fact YOU are the one to do EEEEEEEEVVVVERYYYYYY thing around the house.

 THIS IS A TRAP!!  Do not engage!!

 This is merely a ploy to get you talking and so frustrated and angry that you delay the cleaning , or to just ultimately cause you to forget to make him go up and clean at all.  At all costs bite your lip and move on.


Also, tweens are very aware of the  feelings that you are having on just realizing that they are growing up

quickly and your dawning panic.  They will not hesitate to use this against you.

YRH: Mom, my throat is scratchy.
Me: (in the middle of folding laundry, making breakfast, and doing dishes) Ok, well, I showed you how to make tea with honey, go make some.
YRH:  But mommy (there, see what he did there? ) my throat hurts.  Will you please make me some tea?
Me: But honey I am right in the middle of all of this.  Just go make some tea.  It literally takes two minutes.
YRH: (sighs) ok.  I guess I will just go do it by myself.  I just love how you make it, and I just can't make it as good as you.
Me: Give me the mug....

Do you see what happened there?  He has even conned me into make Eggo waffles for him, because I "get them more crunchy than he does".  So beware of these techniques.  They will use your dawning panic about them getting older to dupe you.  They know how to make tea and Eggo waffles.  They are twelve for crying out loud!

But I feel like the thing I was the most unprepared for was the smart mouth.

When I was in college I was coined the nickname "Comeback Queen".  I was extremely rapid fire with snarky responses to most any situation. (I was also nicknamed "mulch girl" for different reasons....that may or may not have involved passing out in a bush and sleeping there all night....)  I was very skilled with a smart mouth.  I was also an expert eye roller and sigh-er. It was a skill I developed in high school (aka sassy mouth, smart alek, and smart ass) but I was more shrewd with how I used it.  My mom was not one to put up with sass.   All of these had to be used with discretion because if I wanted a social life at all, I could not exercise my gift willy nilly.

The problem with having this talent is....it is genetic.  My son has inherited this gift.  He is playing around with his power of words, and unfortunately, he is not shrewd about using it.  So he does not wait until I turn around to do the eye roll.  He does not wait until I am out of ear shot to sigh and mumble.  He is flagrant with it.  As a matter of fact, today he tried to be a little smarter about it, and put on sunglasses in the house and tried the eye roll, to which I said, "Hey there chief? I can see your eyes behind your glasses.  Not stealthy.  And now I will take your Ipod please..."

I am telling you all of this, not to complain, but to  educate.

You see, everyone talks about the teen years, and I understand that it has its own special set of

challenges.  But NO ONE talks about the "birthing pains" that are a prequel to the teen years.  The tween years are the "groanings" of the teen trying to emerge from it's chrysalis.  The  beginning of the end of childhood.  No one talks about the challenges that are heading your way as you look at your precious child who one day wants you to cut his steak for him, and the next is wanting to get a job to start saving for a car that he will buy in 4 years. 

I was not prepared.  But my story is a cautionary tale for other parents.  Your baby will turn into a tween.  They will have drama and sweetness all in the same hour.  They will talk about girls, and talk about playing in the mud in the same day.  It is quite possibly the most head spinning experience I have ever witnessed.  In the same moment, it makes me both proud and sad.  Proud that not only have I had a child, but I have kept it alive to this point!!  And as a bonus, he is relatively happy (when he is not surly because we are out of milk for his rice krispies or because I said that pop tarts are not an acceptable breakfast) and is for the biggest part a good, polite, and caring person.  But I am sad because I realize that I only have a few years left of him being here all the time.  He isn't a baby.  But he isn't a teen.  He is a tween.  

Unfortunately, I do not have experience with tween girls yet, only a boy.  So come back to me in 5 years.  The twin girls should prove to be a WHOLE different experience.

Crap, I am going to be cutting steak for other people the rest of my life........

My summer plan....which fell apart

It is officially summer break for my family and myself.  I am already planned up to the hilt with stuff for us to do, and between vacations and camps it is looking like I won't have to bust boredom too often, so that is a relief. 

A month ago I decided that this summer would be "THE SUMMER OF RESPONSIBILITY".  My original plan was to kick up the kids responsibility  a notch because, well, Your Royal Highness is almost 12, The twins are 5, and Little Man is almost 4.  So why in the name of Gods Green earth am I the only one doing chores around this hizzle??  Time for them to pull their own weight, am I right? 

Until day 1........

 I will now give you a list of what I WANTED to see my children accomplish this summer, and why this is NOT going to end up happening. 

1. Your Royal Highness will learn to load the dishwasher.

Let me tell you why I might as well just do this myself.  So it is after dinner, and there is a sink full of dishes from preparing the meal, and a table full of dishes from eating the meal.  I ask YRH to please load the dishwasher while I get the food into containers and put away.  I come back to see this:

Yeah, I don't think those are getting clean.  Not only that, but he rinsed off a total of...none of them.  So yes, that Nutella on the spoon? that stuck on rice in the bowl? Those all got washed and returned to me with very clean rice and Nutella on them.  I also have a serious bit of OCD when it comes to dishes in the dishwasher.  You could be Martha freaking Stewart and I will  go behind you and rearrange the dishes because , just, no.

2. Your Royal Highness will learn to watch the littles for short amounts of time.

It was such a good idea in theory.  I mean, I was watching my nephews when I was all of 10 years old!  YRH is almost 12, surely he is old enough for two 5 year olds and an almost 4 year old?  They can all talk and tell him what they need right? I left to go help the Admiral drop off his car for an oil change, and figured since it was naptime, this was a great trial run.  I was gone for 20 MINUTES.  And the littles were ALSEEP!  I received a total of 4 phone calls, and 2 texts in that 20 minutes that I was gone.  "Mom, I hear rustling coming from LIttle Man's closet. I am pretty sure he is awake."  "Mom, I went into LIttle man's room and he had a screw in his mouth and won't give it to me.  What do I do?"  "Mom, can I open my window in my room, I am going to clean it while you are gone." (umm, not holding my breath on that one)  "Mom, I need to take the dog out, and they are asleep can I leave them in the house while I take him out back, or do I need to wake them up and make them all go with me?"  "Mom, how much longer are you going to be gone?  Can we go to the pool when you get back?" So. Not. Worth it.


3. The littles will learn to dust tables and baseboards

I thought this would be easy since all of those things are in their height range.  But they knocked everything off of the coffee tables in order to dust them, never putting it back on when they were done.  They also decided it would be fun to furniture polish each other's feet, because hey, lemon scent!  And then it is also equally fun to furniture polish your socks, and then 'skate' on the wood floor.  Never mind that it leaves a very very very slippery film where ever they have been, and my cat like reflexes are more like sloth like reflexes at this stage in the game. 

4.  The Littles will learn how to clean the toilet

Apparently potty water is fun.  Who knew.

5. The children will be responsible for the cleanliness of their own rooms.

Despite my chart that I made (WITH PICTURES) of how to clean a room, and in what order to do it, this whole concept is completely foreign to them.  "what is this 'put away' you are speaking of?  This is not a phrase that I have ever heard.  You mean, place the Barbies that I took out of this box, back IN TO this box?  I have never heard of such nonsense!  Absurd!" (In my head that is read in an English accent)  I came into the girls room to see one of them laying on the floor staring at the ceiling because "I just can't even", and the other one was in her closet putting on every single dress up dress she could find, simultaniously.  I went into Little man's room to see him under his bed with a whole fistful of his brother's legos that he had stolen while he wasn't looking, and I walked over to YRH's room, to find a sign on the door.  "BE CAREFUL UPON ENTRY. DANGEROUS CLEANING INSIDE."  This had me intrigued.  So I opened the door, (carefully, because hey, I am a rule follower) to find his bed completely taken apart, his millions of legos precariously stacked upon themselves upon his table, and piles upon piles of laundry in various places.
"What the heck are you doing?  I said clean your room!  This is the exact opposite of cleaning!  This is...well...this is worse-ing!"
 "Mom, don't freak out.  I am rearranging the furniture.  I want  my bed on the other side." 
"It probably would be a lot easier to do that if  you would have CLEANED IT FIRST.  Now you are trying to move it on top of all of the junk!"
 "Mom...you just don't understand.  But I am probably going to need your help in a minute....."  Now I just can't even.....

So I just give up.  It is so much easier, and so much less hassle if I just do it.  So to my future sons and daughters in law, I am so completely sorry.  I will come over and help you with your chores after you marry my children, because trust me, it is just easier  that way.

I need a glass of wine....

Cabin in the Woods......the True Story

I am going to tell you a story....a very very scary story.  So please turn off your lights, grab a flash light, and pretend that you and I are sitting across from each other around a campfire. 

This is a story about my vacation, and it is terrifying.

A few months ago, my husband and I decided for spring break we would go to Gatlinburg with the family.  So we searched for weeks for a good looking cabin rental to make the smokey mountain expience legit.  Finally we found one that we liked, that would fit us all, and seemed nice.  It was called.... (enter spooky music)....Summer Breeze..

I called and the lady from the company, Cabin Fever Rentals,  on the phone seemed really nice, but most witches do in the beginning of fairy tales don't they? ("Come inside my gingerbread house children....it's ok....granny won't eat you."  Till she does!!!)  Got us a deal where we buy 5 nights and get two nights free.  Awesome.  Spectacular.  But what do they say about things that are too good to be true?

So we are getting excited.  The Admirals sister and her kids were coming to stay too, so we were really excited to get the family together for a fun holiday. 

We drive the seven hours it takes to get to Gatlinburg from our house, with all of the children and our 14 year old dog.  We took the dog because he didn't deal well with being boarded, and the cabin was pet friendly so why not?  We get to the check in office, and all of the toddler need to pee.  So we all clamor out of the van and tumble into the office where we are greeted with a large sign that says, "NO PUBLIC BATHROOM." 

My english teacher senior year in high school did a whole unit on foreshadowing.  Why didn't I pay more attention????

So we all clamor back outside while The Admiral checks us in, and SIL (sister in law) takes little man to a bush to water it, if you know what I mean.  I tell the girls that they will have to wait a bit for a gas station, and they immediately panic. 

We get checked in, get directions to the cabin, and head out. 

We pull up, and My stomach does a flip flop.  There is trash littering the entire perimetor of the house.  Red Solo cups, McDonald's wrappers, plasic baggies, and more.  The Admiral goes to unlock the door and almost has to ram it with his shoulder to make it open. 

Seriously Mr. Kazor, I should have paid more attention to the whole foreshadowing unit.  Really.

We walk in, and at first blush it looks ok.  But upon further inspection, I notice cobwebs hanging from every corner, and most windows.  The kids start running around yelling, happy to be free of the car.  The twins run to the bathroom.  SIL's kids all plow in and head for the fooseball table and the pool table, and Your Royal Highness heads immediately for the hot tub. 
"MOOOOOOOOM!!!!!" He yells.  I walk out, and the hot tub is freezing cold.  "Ok, I will give the office a call."  The Admiral yells to me from inside, "Might want to add this light fixture to that list."  I look in the downstairs hall, and see the wall sconce is hanging from the wall by exposed wires.  Awesome. 

I walk over to the couch to sit down and notice pillows on them with sketchy looking stains, and some sort of dried liquid splashed down the front corner of one.  I didnt know liquid could dry to leather couches like that.  Hmm. 

SIL and Admiral go to the store to get groceries, and I make a call to the front desk about the things we noticed.  A guy comes out and fixes the light, and then spends 20 minutes farting around with the hot tub.  He comes back in, "Well, it looks like the motor is out.  I will call the hot tub people and have them out tonight."  I felt satisfied with the response, and true to his word he sent out the hot tub guy that night.  My thought was that he would fix the hot tub, but he spent another 20 minutes farting around with it and came it to tell me," It looks like the motor is out."  Duh.  The other guy said that. He then proceeds to explain that he has to talk to the owner to get approval to fix it, so it was going to be a day or two before it was fixed.  There were some seriously dissappointed children. 

Admiral and SIL come back with groceries, and we unpack and go to start dinner.  Large burner doesnt work, and oven will only get hot if you set it to 425.  I guess I can forget about baking cookies.  We finish dinner, do dishes and put stuff away, and find a pan that is so beat up it could possibly have been used as a murder weapon. I go to make up the pull out bed for the kids....there are no sheets to speak of, and only one blanket.  Sweet SIL says that her two daughters can sleep with her in the king size bed. 

After watching the finale of Walking Dead, around 11pm, we all head off to bed.  Admiral pulls back the covers to find.....scuze me while I vomit in my throat....4 giant spots of blood on the mattress.  There is no mattress cover at all.  The only thing between us and the matress is a very thin sheet. 

We sleep very much clothed. 

We get up, and it is too early to call the office.  Admiral, SIL, Your Royal HIghness, and older cousins head out to go ziplining over the moutains.  I stay back with all the young kids who are too little to go.  I figure I will call when they all go to bed, so I can voice my complaints without getting interupted.  I get them all down, and it is quiet in the house. 

Until it wasn't. 

I hear a buzzing.  I look up.  Hornets.  4 of them, in the window.  Now there are a lot of things I am scared of, but bugs and especially stinging bugs, are at the top of that list.  I freak out.  Bad.  So I call the office and as calm as possible tell them about all of the things that I have found. 

The range had dirty drip pans
Cobwebs everywhere
Doors to bedrooms downstairs had broken handles
Closet doors won't close, and one was hanging off broken
Blood on the mattress....I REPEAT BLOOD ON THE MATTRESS
Trash surrounding perimeter of house
 Broken lamp on side table
LIghtbulbs out in light fixtures
Door to outside had bird poop on the INSIDE of the door frame
Missing sheets
Missing blankets
Stains on throw pillows and couch
and now....HORNETS

The lady tells me that she will send the cleaning crew out, and she will call the pest control people.  However the pest control people will need to fumigate, and we will need to be out of the house for 6 hours when they come.  I sigh and say, "Look.  I am happy you want to fix all of these things, but we are being highly inconvieinced here.  This is ruining my vacation.  I am crying right now, and stressed, and I am on vacation.  I would really like some sort of compensation for all of this." 

"Well mam, I can give you 15% off of your future stay."

"Oh darling, you misunderstand me.  I will NOT be coming back to your cabins.  Ever.  Is there nothing you can do other than that?"
"I am sorry, and I can tell you this is very much not the normal.  These problems are very very rare."
"Well, they may be rare, but they are happening, and this is unacceptable.  I want it all fixed."
"We will mam."

So the fix it guy comes out and fixes the doors, and then the cleaning guy shows up.  He has a couple of sets of sheets in his hands, and a duster.  He asks me to show him where I see dirt. 

Seriously?

Isnt' this your JOB?  How do you NOT see the dirt??  It is EVERYWHERE!!  But I humor him, and show him all of the cobwebs and then I show him the mattress. 

"Oooh.  The man who stay here last cut his hand.  He bleed on mattress.  I forgot mattress pad." 
"You forgot to bring a matress pad??"
"I so sorry."  He then hands me sheets and says, "You use and I bring you mattress cover tomorrow."

-sound of record scratching-

WHAAA WHAATT!!!???  TOMORROW??????  Dude, I have blood on my mattress tonight!!!  Plus, who the hell cuts their hand and bleeds all over the bed?  How do you cut your hand on a bed??? 

He scurries around cleaing up the cobwebs and then leaves before I had a chance to stop him.  The cherry on top of that?  He didn't even make up the bed!  He didnt' put the extra sheets on top of the bed.  There they lay in the bag on top of the bedspread. 

The Admiral comes back and I fill him in on the events. 

He is not pleased. 

In fact we are both pretty skeeved out.  I go downstairs to the kids area, and notice somthing that I didn't before.  The cartpet down there is DISGUSTING.  How did I not see this before?  I don't know, maybe because we were focused on the hornets and the blood and the dirt and the gross from the main floor.  But there it is, gross awful carpet that left my socks black as soot after one crossing.  And what was that smell?  Was that the carpet too?  I lean down........Yep.  It was.  It smelled as if a poo and mold, and mildew had a baby.  Wow.  Yuck. 

I get a call from the pest control company. "Hey honey',"  (excuse me????) " I got a call you have hornets.  When do you want us to come out?"
"When is the earliest you can come? We have the kids and the dog to get out."
"I can come whenever you need honey." (seriously, say it again and I will cut you)
"Ok, we will take the kids and go sightseeing.  How about 9am?"
"We will be there honey....bye."  Click. 

Sweet baby Jesus, he is lucky he hung up. I about went crazy white girl all over him to teach him about professionalism and respect.

It was late, and Admiral and I decide, we need to probably have a more firm talk with the office in the morning.  See if there is another cabin they can give us.  This is unacceptable on all accounts.  So we go to add the layer of sheet between us and a possible Hepatitus infection, when we pull back the sheets and covers, and I hear him gasp..."OH GOD!" 
"What is it?"
"You don't want to know."
"The hell I don't, what is it?"
I tear around the bed and see it.....on the bed skirt...something you never ever ever want to see when you are away from home. 

ANCHORS AWAY ME LADS!!  WE GOT SEMEN!!!

We both freak the freak out, and Immediately start looking for another cabin rental company.  We stayed up until 1am, and found 3 that were available.  It was too late for that night, but we would call first thing.  We huddle, fully clothed, on top of the covers, on the one side of the bed farthest away from the STD and the Hepatitis. 

In the morning, we decide we will have the pest people postpone until the afternoon so we can pack up.  I call the rental company for the new cabin.....

"Eden Crest...this is David."  Came the sweet sing song voice of my new big gay angel.  His sweet southern twang mixed with his beautiful gay accent was music to my ears. 
"Hi David, I was looking on your website and found a cabin that was available.  I was intersted in booking it."
"When do you want to come darlin?"  When he called me an endearment I didn't mind so much.
"Now.  THis moment.  Today."  He chuckeled,
"Okay, let me see what I can do."  He clicked out, and came back in a moment, "Ok I can get you in today, but that cabin still needs cleaned and wont be ready until about 4.  Is that ok?"
"Ok.  That is fine. How much."
"Well, it would be usually $1300 for the week, but since you are coming today, I will knock off  50%. How is that?"
I started crying to this wonderfully lovely man..."Oh David, you don't even know...."I explained what was going on, why we needed in today, the house, and all of it. 
"Oh darling girl....we will get you hooked up.  We will fix this vacation."  That is all I needed to hear.  I cry.  But then I panic, I forgot to ask about the dog.
"David...we have a dog....do you allow pets."
"Hmm...not usually, but let me see what I can do."  I am on hold for like 5 minutes.  I start sweating.  He comes back on, "Baby, I made it pet friendly.  It will be a small fee, but is that ok?" 
"YES!!!!!!  FINE!!!!!!  DONE!!!!!"  He laughs and I am instantly wanting to be his best friend.  I finish up the clerical stuff, and tell the family the good news.  My sweet SIL says, "Since we are leaving, I will tell you now, the bathroom smells like sewage.  I didn't want to say anything while we were here, you were already so stressed."  Bless.....

So I call the pest people, "Ok.  We are not going to be able to get out of here for a bit, can you come later?"  The guy says, "Honey," (there it is again....grrr) "I can, I just don't know when. Might be later in the afternoon."
"Fine fine.  Please call before you come, we are going to go play mini golf, and we will need to leave the dog here."
"Ok., Will do." 

We decide to pack up the cars with everything but the food and the dog, so we can just grab and go after.  We head to Play mini golf...the first thing I have actually gotten to DO on my vacation since our arrival...and then we go to the park after, then lunch.  Around 1pm, after no call from the pest people, we head to the cabin to finish up packing.  we figure it will take a bit,then to check out of nightmare cabin, and drive to the new one, it will be almost 4. 

We pull up to the cabin to find a note on the door.....

"FUMIGATION began at 12pm....Please do not enter until 3pm."

THE DOG!!!!

 We run in and find Thor in the bathroom where we left him, but the house had obviously been fumigated, and he had been sitting in it for two hours.  Who fumigates with a dog in the house???  They never called!!

Pissed, I get the dog out of the house, and we leave the kids in the car, and get the rest of our stuff out of there.  I make an extensive list of all of our trials with this cabin and we head to the check in office.  Admiral goes in, and unfortunately the supervisor was not there.  We check out, and decide that the battle for our money back would have to be continued another day.

As we drive to our new cabin, (which would prove to be wonderful, and every single bit the vacation we were hoping for.  Seriously David...you are my gay in shining armor.  Mwah!  Love you!)  we left the creepy, scary, cabin behind us.  I feel like as we left I heard the sound of dueling banjos behind me.......