Picky Eaters

Brooklyn walked by, talking on her play phone.

"Yes. Okay. We're putting the babies on the grill now. Uh huh. Sure. Buh-bye."

I waited until Brooklyn hung up and asked her, "Putting the babies on the grill???"

"Yeah, our boss told us to, so we could eat them."

"Your boss? Your boss told you to put babies on a grill? And more importantly, you listened to him?"

I wasn't sure what was more disturbing - the fact that a pretend person was telling my daughters to become cannibals, the fact that they were listening to this pretend person and thought it was perfectly acceptable to grill their dolls, or the fact that I was even questioning this line of thinking.

I walked over to "the grill" where Lexi and Brooklyn had their dolls all lined up, just roasting away.

Oh well, maybe they were on to something. I mean, I can't get Brooklyn to eat more than chocolate milk and peanut butter sandwiches. In fact, tonight, she informed me, "I'm not really into tacos, Mom. I'll just have ice cream."

"Okay, Brooklyn. Get me a bowl too." "I mean, ha ha ha ha ha, you're a funny girl. Now sit down and eat. The taco. Not the baby doll.

Dinnertime

Check out my latest video blog at Guideposts website! Dinnertime at my house



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Make sure to stop by my review blog for a chance to win a $100 Lands' End gift card HERE
and a case of V-8 V-Fusion juice and an LLBean tote bag HERE!

A Dork in Chicago

I had an interview with NPR yesterday. I had to drive downtown to the Chicago office so they could record the interview which is scheduled to air the last week of December on Morning Edition. So, in order to get there in time, I asked my husband if he could get home from work by noon or if I should get a babysitter. He told me that it was no problem and he’d be home by 12:00. 12:00 came. 12:00 left. 12:05 came and left. At 12:10 I called my husband and asked him if he was almost home. He innocently answered, “No. I figured I’d get home about 12:30.”
“What?! I need to leave NOW! You SAID you’d be home by 12:00!”

My husband thought I’d told him that I needed to leave by 1:00 (because he doesn’t LISTEN!) and he apologized repeatedly for goofing up, so I couldn't be mad. So, I ended up leaving a little after 12:00 and even though traffic was kinda stinky, I made it there with time to spare. Let me back up a minute. Yesterday morning I remembered my interview with ABC and how dry my mouth was while talking to the reporter. I concluded that I hadn’t been drinking enough water lately and should probably chug down a gallon or two or ten before my interview so my mouth didn’t totally dry up while I was talking. So, about five minutes into my trip, I realized I had to pee. As traffic inched slowly along, the need to pee got worse and worse. Let me tell you, after having six kids, this is not something you mess around with. When you have to go, you have to go!

I guess I didn’t look at my Mapquest print-out very well. I thought the building was located immediately as I turned onto Wacker. As soon as I turned, I looked for a parking garage because I'm a dork and there is no way in the world I would ever, ever try to parallel park. I was afraid if I didn't park in the first garage I found, I wouldn't be able to find another one for ten miles. I found a garage right away and parked the car and prayed there was a bathroom somewhere in the parking garage. There wasn’t. I walked (really quickly) to the first establishment I thought might have a public bathroom. It was a restaurant and as I walked in and smelled the fresh bread, I realized that I hadn’t eaten yet, so I ordered a sandwich (after peeing, of course.) I asked the guy behind the counter where 65 E. Wacker was. He said, “Oh it’s a ways over that way.” He indicated the direction.

“What do you mean ‘a ways’?” I asked, my voice laced with concern.
“Oh I don’t know. It’s about eight blocks or so thatta way.”
Eight blocks? Eight city blocks? So almost a mile? I guess I didn’t have so much extra time after all. I sat down, scarfed four or five bites and then decided I’d better get walking.

I saw several of these signs as I walked to the building. Falling ice? That doesn't sound good.

I looked up to see from where the ice would fall. Ice falling from that height could totally poke your eye out! Couldn't it? Hmmm, maybe Mythbusters would know. Get on that, will ya?

So, I played the part of the dorky tourist the entire way so that I could bring you, my awesome readers, these pictures...

The L

House of Blues

Umm, a building

A round building

The river

I arrived at the NPR building, found the office, and got settled in. (By the way, there were parking garages on pretty much every corner all the way there. In fact, there was a garage RIGHT NEXT to the building!) I got to wear these neato earphones! I pretended to be Frasier as Roz (OK, it wasn’t really Roz, but I failed to catch the gentleman’s name) gave me instructions through the earphones. Oh yeah - he also brought me more water!

Cool, huh?

The interview went pretty well. I think. I guess we'll see when it airs. It was pretty cold here yesterday, so instead of walking back to my car, I thought about maybe taking a cab. The only problem is, dork that I am, I failed to note the location of the garage in which I'd parked. I didn't think I could tell the cab driver, "Um yeah, could you go to a parking garage about a mile away from here. I think there was a fire hydrant outside. And a tree. Yes, there was definitely a tree near there. And the L. The L ran near there. Somewhere. Oh! And there were some really tall buildings too! Do you know where it is?"

So, I just enjoyed my walk in the city instead. I learned that you should really wear gloves in December when walking a mile in the city. I also learned that when walking the streets of downtown Chicago, you must look straight ahead, focusing on your destination. Do not look at other passersby. Do not make eye contact. Do not smile. If you do, people will think there's something wrong with you. I also learned, according to the man with the sandwich board, that "the end is near".

I got back to the garage and thankfully didn't have to remember what number floor I'd parked on because the floors had names in addition to numbers for those of us who are mathematically impaired. So, I got in the elevator and pressed the button for the Flugel Horn floor (also known as floor 9). The elevator stopped at the fifth floor when a guy got on, and I stepped off. I walked up and down aisles looking for my car until I saw that I was on the Guitar Floor. Oops. I'd automatically gotten off the elevator when it stopped without even looking at the number. I walked back to the elevator, feeling like a total dork for like the twelfth time that day.

All I know is that I'm definitely thankful I don't have to drive downtown for work every day!
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Then last night we got to go out to dinner with friends. And without kids. Ahhhh. We've got some of the most awesome friends ever. We always have the best time when we get together with or without the kids. We also tend to do a lot of eating whenever we get together. A lot! We went to a yummy Greek restaurant and, as usual, ate too much! I think I still have garlic oozing from my pores from the skorthalia. Yum-o!

Mmmm, Roditis!

Aren't you happy I didn't put the first two pictures on here, Jen? :)

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Oh yeah! How could I have forgotten?! I'm going to NY next week to meet with my publishers! Yay! I've never been to NY and I'm really excited to see both the city and the publishers!

Check out Mamaslike!

Butt, Butt, Butt, Butt

Because we had over 800 comments on my "You Mean I Only Have to Cook Once a Week?" post, I've selected eight winners. When I first started this Blook Tour, I figured I'd write everyone's name down on a piece of paper and draw the names out of a hat. Well, that was before 800 of you left comments! So instead of writing down 800 names, I used the highly scientific method of scrolling up and down through the comments with my eyes closed. After a few seconds of scrolling, I stopped, opened my eyes, and wrote down the name showing on my screen. I did this eight times which is how I arrived at the winning recipients of Trish's book.

Ok the moment you've all been waiting for :::::::drumroll::::::: Here are the names of the eight winners of the Blook Tour! They will each receive a copy of Trish Berg's The Great American Supper Swap!

In no particular order....
Erin
Megan
Susan
Callie
Ann Marie
Leslie
Alice
Kristen

Separate emails were just sent to your email addresses. Congratulations and good luck on starting your own supper swapping groups! Trish has answered many questions in the comments section of this post. If you have additional questions for Trish, please feel free to visit her at her website and ask away!

Thank you to everyone who participated and left a comment!

I know I didn't update last night, but I have a good excuse reason. I actually went out with a friend. No husbands, no kids, just my oldest friend. Well, she's not really old. She's the same age as I. And I am definitely not old. I've just known her the longest. I remember making her laugh and getting her, and a couple other students who sat near me, in trouble back in high school. Ahhh good times, good times.

Anyway, as I was saying, one of my best friends on earth, Jen, and I went out to eat last night. We did really well too. We talked at length and didn't mention diapers even once during our conversation. Neither of us felt compelled to cut the other's entree into bite size pieces and we never told one another, "Finish your drink, a napkin is not a toy, or don't chew with your mouth open." We did very well being Jen and Dawn instead of just "Mom" and "Mom". All was wonderful until a little kid came running by our table and Jen nearly reached out to grab him and tell him to settle down until she remembered that he was not her child and she was out for the evening alone.

I thought of getting all philosophical about how we parents sometimes forget the people we were pre-kids and become "So & So's Mom" or "So & So's Dad". I was going to sing the importance of retaining some of you, the person. I was going to warn against becoming only you, the mom. I know the experts say to take a class, take up a hobby, learn a new skill, get out and exercise, make a little time, every day, for you. However, in the real world, I also know it's sometimes impossible. For those with tight finances, it's usually not affordable to just "take a class" or buy supplies for your hobby. For those whose spouse works long hours or is deployed, how are you supposed to find time to go to the gym or even read a book some days? And is it really so horrible to put your life on hold, so to speak, to become so & so's mother? So & so will only be little for a short while. You've got your whole life ahead of you to take up skydiving, poker, knitting, painting, tennis, or whatever it is you want to do. Just a thought.

Ok, back to my story. So I went out to eat with my best friend, Jen and after dinner, I went back to her home to borrow their video camera. So I'm sitting there talking to Jen, her husband, 3 boys, and 1 daughter. I'm not sure who started it, but suddenly the conversation turned to butts. (As you'll recall from a previous post, "butt" is the funniest word in the English language.) However, it's not just funny in English, as I learned from these guys.

"Dad, how do you say "butt" in Polish?
Dad answers, but I've forgotten what the word was. Apparently it was hilarious though as the boys all started parroting "butt" in Polish.

Butt, butt, butt, butt.

Jen looks at me, rolls her eyes and says, "I'm here all day with the kids trying to teach them not to say stuff like that. He comes home and in mere seconds has them being obnoxious in foreign languages."

And we're in Chicago. Chicago has the second highest concentration of Polish people next to Poland. Someone is bound to understand what they're saying in school come Monday. Gee, thanks Dad!


The hole Clay dug into his wall.


The instrument of destruction. Thankfully it was a safety nightlight, or I can only imagine what he would have done with the screwdriver. In fact, I'm actually pretty surprised he didn't try to unscrew the nightlight. Oh and where did he even get the screwdriver? Out of my middle son's tool box in the garage, of course.



Do not adjust your monitors. Yes, she really does have a white beard. Diaper cream - it's not just for butts anymore.


Brooklyn's artwork. Markers have a way of multiplying in my house. For every Sharpie I toss out, two more appear, much like the Hydra fought by Hercules. Thankfully this came right off with a diaper wipe.




And the Piece de resistance, the banana peel found in my car today. The only way I knew it was a banana peel was from the Chiquita sticker. Ok, this trend of finding food is getting embarrassing, quite frankly. I can understand the occasional fruit snack in the couch cushions, cracker under the chair, wrapper behind the dresser, and French fry on the floor of my car, but this is ridiculous. My wonderful husband cleaned out my van today. He filled the tires with air, the tank with gas, and he washed it inside and out. I'd like to say this disgusting banana was all he found, but alas he found enough nasty, moldy fruit to cover Carmen Miranda's head. I think I may have to put locks on the fridge and cabinets.

What's for Dinner?

I have good news! I no longer have a nephew without a name. His name is Dominick. Well, it's not exactly Dominick. It's actually Samuel Dominick, but he won't be called Samuel. Or Sam. Or Sammy. See, my brother-in-law is Sam. He's actually Samuel the 48th or something like that. He wanted a Samuel the 49th. My sister did not. They compromised. He's Samuel on paper, but Dominick in real life. Does any of this make sense? Despite the fact that my sister didn't take any of my kids' name suggestions (Monkey, Lightning McQueen, or Jellybean), she and Sam picked out a good name for their little cutie-pie!

I have some more good news! Baby pooped out five staples this morning (don't ask me how I know exactly how many she passed!) She's none the worse for wear either. When I took her back to the hospital for a repeat x-ray this afternoon, I got to take a look at her x-ray. I wish I had a copy to post on my blog for posterity as it was rather interesting to see yet more staples still in her intestines somewhere. Hopefully, those will make an appearance tomorrow.

And now, for a little dinnertime conversation before I go watch Bridge to Terabithia with the kiddos....

MOM: What did you guys do in school today?
AJ: I don’t like chicken.
MOM: We’re not having chicken.

BOO: Oh! I love chicken! I want a leg!
MOM: This isn’t chicken. We’re having pork chops.
AJ: I don’t like pork chops.
MOM: Since when?
NANA: Oh we’re having chicken?
BOO: I get the leg!
MOM: We’re not having chicken tonight.
BABY: dadadadada
PRINCESS: I just want milk.
BOO: You can’t have milk! We’re having chicken.
SPAZ: My butt itches!
AJ: What is that brown stuff in the rice? I don’t like that.
MOM: There’s no brown stuff. Eat it. So what did you guys do in school?
NANA: This doesn’t taste like chicken.
AJ: It’s not chicken, duh!!! Mom, what’s 483 divided by 14?
MOM: I don’t know, Aj. Put your homework away. It’s time to eat now.
SPAZ: WHEEEAAAAAAAAA!!!!
PRINCESS: Can I have a fruit snack for dinner?
MOM: No, you can’t have a fruit snack. Eat some meat. Spaz, settle down. Princess, tell me what you did in school. Why did you get that stamp on your hand?
PRINCESS: We were, um, in the room, ummm…..
BABY: dadaaaa baba
NANA: Stop kicking, Aj!!!
MOM: What room, Princess?
AJ: I’m not kicking you.
BOO: Can I have more chicken?
PRINCESS: We were at school. Mrs. Milton, ummm, gave us stamps, ummmm, because…..Is that corn?
NANA: Mooom, make Aj stop kicking. He’s kicking the table.
MOM: Nana, pass the corn to Princess, please. Aj stop kicking the table. Spaz stop drinking all your milk and eat. Why did Mrs. Milton give you guys stamps?
NANA: I already have corn.
MOM: I know you do. I asked you to pass the corn to Princess.
SPAZ: TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE CAR!
BABY: DA DA DA!!! (as she flings a piece of bread across the table)
AJ, BOO, PRINCESS, SPAZ and NANA: HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! Baby threw her bread! HAHAHAH!!!
MOM: Stop laughing. Don’t encourage her.
BABY: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! (as she throws another piece)
MOM: No baby (as I take her ammunition away)
MOM: So why did you get a stamp, Princess?
PRINCESS: ummm, because I, ummmm was a statue.
MOM: You were a statue? Did you play a statue game in gym?
NANA: I didn’t have gym today.
AJ: She’s talking to Princess, not you!
BOO: Can I be excused?
MOM: No. Finish eating.
PRINCESS: Ummmm no, not in gym. In, ummm Mrs. Milton’s class. We were statues.
MOM: OK you got a stamp on your hand because you were a statue in Mrs. Milton’s class?
PRINCESS: No.
MOM: (under breath) I give up.
AJ: Nana’s chewing with her mouth open and I need $5 for our field trip tomorrow.
NANA: Oh yeah, I need an empty coffee can for a project we’re doing tomorrow.
PRINCESS: Can I have a fruit snack now?
BABY: woof woof woof (as she throws a piece of corn on the floor.)

BOO: Can I have some more chicken?
MOM: Spaz eat, Baby stop throwing food, Nana chew with your mouth closed, Aj, quit kicking the table, Princess, you can’t have a fruit snack, and WE’RE NOT HAVING CHICKEN!

House Devils and Street Angels

I realized I'd lost track of time while running errands with the gang when they started whining from the back of my van.

"We're hungry!"

"Can't we go home for dinner?"

"Aren't we finished shopping yet?"

"We're dying!"

"We haven't eaten in like four years!"

Not wanting to stop (only because it would mean having to drag the six of them out again at another time), I replied, "We just have two more stops to make. If you're hungry, look in your car seats. I bet there are enough fries, crackers, fruit snacks, and half eaten lollipops to feed a small nation."

"Mom, we already ate that stuff on the way to Grandma and Grandpa's last week, remember?"

"Oh yeah. OK. Tell you what - if you can make it through two more errands without killing each other, I'll take you to Culvers for dinner."

much cheering from gang

I try not to take the kids out in public, so going out to eat is a big treat for them. We got to the restaurant, stepped to the counter and ordered.

NANA: Can I have two corn dogs?

CULVERS GUY: Sure.
PRINCESS: Can I have macaroni and cheese?
ME: They don't have mac-n-cheese. Do you want a hamburger?
PRINCESS: Then I'll have a fruit snack.
ME: They don't have fruit snacks.
PRINCESS: Fine. Then I want the thing with the stuff on it.
ME: to Culvers guy Got that? She wants the thing with the stuff on it.
CULVERS GUY: blank stare
SPAZ: Me too!
ME: OK, that'll be two things with stuff on them.
AJ: I'd like a double deluxe with everything on it.
CULVERS GUY: still confused over the last order
BOO: Me too! I want a double deluxe too!
CULVERS GUY: Are you sure you can eat all that? It's pretty big.
AJ: to Boo Yeah, you'll never finish a Crabby Patty, Barnacle Boy. to Culvers guy He'll have a Pipsqueak Patty.

Now a good mother would know at this point that it was time to limit the kids' cartoon viewing to less than twelve hours a day. What went through my head, however, is the realization that the kids could recall every line of every Sponge Bob episode ever made and they could quote them with impressive accuracy, but they couldn't remember to put their dirty clothes in the hamper.

Anyway, the gang was actually very good through dinner. The baby only threw about a pound of food on the floor and she didn't hit any other patrons with her projectile fries of death. There was no fighting, poking, crawling under the table, blowing bubbles in their drinks, or yelling and my three year old only took off his shoes once "because my feet are itchy".

A little, old lady, who'd been dining next to us, walked over to our table as she was leaving and said, "I just have to tell you what a beautiful family you have. And they are SO well behaved!"

I smiled at her, looked lovingly at my little darlings sitting there so politely and then burst out laughing hysterically. She obviously didn't know my kids. Had she seen them last night at dinner goofing off at the table and laughing like rabid hyenas, she surely would've fainted from the sheer horror of the sight.

This nice lady smiled and told me they must be House Devils and Street Angels. I'd never heard that expression before, but I like it. It fits. :)