We interupt our regularly scheduled program...

because I did my Sunday Outtakes post on Friday,
because I just had to share,
because I was bursting.

So instead I give you:

The Day the Zoloft Failed: pictures and commentary



Ori stole a piece of pizza off a tray when I wasn't looking. It was very cute, and so is his new pointing thing.


It took 15 minutes to convince Teijah to sit with the other children to have pizza and cake. He wanted to play instead. the last 7 of those 15 minutes were spent with me going to get him and then holding him in my lap until he got over it. No he didn't get a haircut, and yes, it was during this rucus that Ori stole the pizza.


Rowan E. hung out with A., her bestie from school. Yes, I realize the boys are in dire need of a spray tan... I don't know why they are so white.


Teijah "drove" a monster truck. After a few minutes he started to cry, despite his love of monster trucks. Apparently he's not a fan of hydrolics.

I lost each of the children at least 5 times, and regretted not bringing the stroller and losing my "free refills" cup. Oh yeah, and going, and bringing all the children.


I was thrilled to walk out of Chuck E. Cheese's and into a much colder, grayer day - but not as thrilled as I was to be home.


I watched Twilight {not my picture, duh.} and tried to recover from Chuck E. Cheese's aka Mommy Hell.


The boys..


.. played with the caulk gun, and I tried to get a picture of the children by the tree. Unfortunately Teijah is so white he causes a glare. *lol* so none of them were very good.


It also came to my attention that perhaps, I too am in need of a spray tan... and that until I'm done breast feeding my boobs really are going to absolutely encompass.. everything. *ugh* Soon they will take over... and I'll be some walking, talking, 5 foot 1 and three quarters, boob monster. *sighs*

Out Takes: dialogue and commentary

Teijah M. {crying}
Rowan E. : What?!? You're not hurt! You just closed your penis in the drawer!

Seriously?! Now I don't have a penis... but I'm pretty sure closing it in a drawer would be a pretty big deal

Me: {takes scavenged old hot dog from baby}
Baby: {cries & chases me, pulling his hair}
Me: "Yes. I know it's all very sad. You liked the hot dog, but you can't eat rancid old hot dogs."
Baby : {walks away from me complaining}
Me: "Would you like some booby instead? You can always have booby."
Baby: {turns around quickly, shoots arms up in the air so far he's almost leaning backwards, toddles to me at full force}
Me: {giggles}

What? why are there old hot dogs... well because I have children... they like to hide things and save them for later...

Teijah: {frantically screaming}
Me: {seeks out screaming banshee child to investigate}
Teijah: {eyes shut tight... still screaming frantically}
Ori: {watches with a curious slightly amused look on his face}
Me: {sighs} "Oh man Teijah! I can't believe you sprayed OxyClean in your eye, AGAIN!

Sheesh! Someone should seriously watch these children... or you know, learn to turn the OxyClean sprayer to the "off" position.

Me: {reading random bed time story to all three children}
Teijah: {suddenly looking very concerned and worried as he stares at his sister}
Me: {giggling}"What's the matter Teijah?"
Teijah: Oh no! See!? Teijah's mouth broke!" {points to his sister's newly toothless grin}
Me: {laughing hysterically}
Teijah: {looking offended}
Me: Rory's mouth isn't broken! She just lost her front tooth, that happens when you get big.
Teijah: {satisfied and informed} "Oh."

*lol* No that wasn't a typo. He calls her Teijah... he knows that it's not her name... we don't know why he does it. What gets me is she lost 4 teeth before and he apparently never noticed the difference until the first top front tooth came out... *giggles* that and the genuine look of worry... like something was terribly, terribly wrong that suddenly swept across his face...

The return of: Not Me! Monday

So it's no secret I've been gone for awhile... I've been busy/out of touch/whatever... not inspired. But I've decided (as I often do) to try the "fake it till you make it" approach in an attempt to be a functional... well... anything. And so now with out much more ado I bring you...



That right! Not me! Monday; that stupendous blog carnival set in to motion by the fabulous Mckmama in an attempt to free our minds of countless indiscretions and oh no he di'nt moments while we share the wonderfulness that is mommy-dom... or you know, not.

I have not waited to the absolute last minute to enroll Rowan E. in school... the last minute would technically be Friday and Friday hasn't happened yet... but... I of course was on top of my mommy job and enrolled her way back in January...

I have not totally decided that it's absolutely okay for her to go to public school because I most certainly need a break.

I would never let my children run around in the nude, so of course there are never accidents on the floor... and I certainly wouldn't blog about it.

I am not absolutely ecstatic that Teijah has stopped forcing himself to poo 5 to 6 times a day just to get poosnacks..
He also has not worn diapers at sleep times for over a week.

And finally... since I know all children are different and uniquely special I my concern did not suddenly become overwhelming and I did not frantically Google the term micropenis and research all day. *sighs* I am not even going to go there... but I will say I'm so not concerned now... and ew... serious ew.

So want to get on all the Not me! fun? Head on over to Mckmama's blog for all the detail and to see what she, and every one else is not doing.

Lifes a beach...

Once upon a time when our little family still lived at my mothers (after a series of unfortunate events) we would set aside one day each weekend to ride our bikes 15 miles to the beach with our (or rather my) still low in number children in tow.
*ahem* I feel that I should point out that I don't think the addition of one more really puts me in the ranks John & Kate (Though My Love is getting close, his tally is currently at 5) or Michelle Duggar but for some reason (ironically) in our go bigger or go home society people (a LOT of people.. seriously, EVERY time I go out with all of them) start asking "Are they all yours?" once you get to #3. Sometimes I think maybe they are just trying to be nice, you know, because I definitely look like I had three kids. Moving on...
So every Sunday the four of us set off with minimal beach equipment and ample water, the children happily loaded into their cart, My Love and I on our rusty but reliable (and very heavy) bicycles, me in my huge grandma shorts *lol*. It was always awesome, lots of good exercise, Teijah loved the water and eating the sand, Rowan E. freaked out and was scared of the water, and we all were looking tan shiny and healthy. Then we had a fortunate turn of events and were able to get our own house, but it was much to far from the beach and our little family was unfortunately out of our short lived tradition.
And then Mark came to visit....

Sorry I have no idea who's butt that is, I didn't even notice she was there when I was taking the picture *giggles* and now her brightly flowered bum is part of our family memories forever... let this be a lesson to anyone bending over at the beach. It is always better to sit when collecting shells...
*sighs* Of course I'm going to have to name her... or at least her fanny.
Of course Mark, who hasn't lived in Florida most of his life and does not have ocean beaches at his disposal was very adamant about going to the beach. The first day I sent them (Mark, My Love, and My Love's 3rd baby's(our sometimes Y number 1A lol) mama Sara), off with my car. The next day when the boy's wanted to go again I decided to go as well despite my lack of bathing suit. It of course was fantabulous.
The six of us packed into my 5 seat Kia Sephia, and with Mark driving headed towards Sanibel Island. On the way there we paid $7 in tolls made a quick stop to pick up an awesome guitar that Mark found for us on Craiglist for $20 *thanks Mark, and is still totally doing the happy dance* and at a little mom and pop shop to pick up more water and some yummy fried chicken that Mark got a great deal on.
Rory had to go potty of course so the boys went ahead of us.
Walking down the walk to the beach I saw this:


...and a warm happiness filled my heart. I could hear a child crying in the distance, so I looked around and thought "well that's certainly not Teijah! He must be so happy to be in the water again."
as I walked closer I still couldn't figure out where the crying was coming from and then I saw my son's twisted grimace. He was not happy. He was freaked out and most certainly did not want to be in the water. So I did what anyone would do, I picked him up and walking further out into the water laughing and jumping as the waves crashed against it. He bought it too and way belly laughing right along with my, that is until the wave that was taller than his 5'1 mommy and he got water in his face... his current phobia/annoyance. And so that was it, then Teijah spent the rest of his time at the beach like this:


Except for when he "borrowed" someone's beach toys


Oh and yes, all my very musical children can keep a beat/rhythm... Just in case you were wondering.

With in seconds of hitting the sand Rory looked around quickly, like she had a radar device in her head, and found the first kid she could see. Once her target was sighted she ran over and made friends. And her time at the beach was spent as such:


I'm going to have to watch out for that girl...


Little Ori loved the water and My Love even boasted that he laid flat in the water (Which is a big deal to him, Teijah never did he always was trying to keep his head out of the water, you know; because he has survival skills and this would never happen to him.)


When he grew over stimulated and was done with the sun he hung out like this in the stroller:

And because I always think of little Stellan every time Ori does something for the first time (they are close in age) before we left I couldn't help but to write his name in the sand:


And on the way home we stopped at a Chick-fil-A drive thru so we could finally see what the big deal was. After we got home Mark and My Love got dolled up to go have a boys night out with My Loves poppy and the kids and I settled around our coffee table to munch on our yummy Chick-fil-A feast (which came complete with shakes which were so worth the suffering) and watch Princess Protection Program.

We have totally decided to readopt our family tradition, but if we're planning on adding Chick-fil-A to our beach fun we'll have to switch to Saturdays since they are a Christian run corporation and are closed on Sunday's... which is as neat as it is inconvenient. *grins*

Now I seriously need to find a job to support my newly found Chick-fil-A habit... and you know, so I can buy car seats.

Because we shouldn't have been eating lunch at 4:30 anyway...

After a much too long nap with little Ori A. we emerged from my bedroom bright eyed and bushy-tailed. I unsnapped his diaper and plopped his chunkiness down on the floor to play bare-butted with his siblings. I tossed his diaper in the laundry room sink, washed my hands and went into the kitchen to make a slew of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (a.k.a manna from the gods) for our belated lunch. After completing my "mommy duties" and serving everyone else I sat down to eat my own PB&J, banana, & soy milk combo from the "Queen Dani Drive-Thru".
Since I moved the dining room table on to the porch (or lanai if you want to be fancy) we've been enjoying lunches at the coffee table in our living room; we do after all live in South Florida and lets be serious afternoons in the summer are excruciating. So there I sat munching on my PB&J, chatting with my kiddies, and watching the Disney Channel when Rowan E. exclaims: (since she is often the one exclaiming a.k.a screaming) "The baby pooped!". Me shocked(suddenly remembering about his bare-butted chunkiness): "No, he didn't!?"
Sure enough.
I got out of my seat to find sweet little Ori A. happily free form finger painting in his own slimy olive green poo. Apparently blueberries really do it for him. I grabbed my little man under the arms holding him at arms length as I ran into my bathroom. I plopped him into my bathtub and turned the water on, he started swishing the water and all the little particles so I picked him up and held him directly under the faucet while the water drained and rinsed out the tub. Then I quickly lathered his chunkiness up with his yummy goats milk soap (thanks for the head up Mckmama! I &hearts soap), and got him out of the tub as promptly as I had plopped him in (after i rinsed him off, of course). I diapered the boy, cleaned the floor, started some laundry, washed my hands *duh*, and got back to my PB&J.
Lesson learned: If one expects to enjoy a PB&J combo, be sure to diaper any bare-butted babies... Or, I could always just hand My Love the baby and run.