ONE MILLION!

One million is the number of hits I've had on this blog in just over a month!

One million is the number of diapers I've changed in the past (almost) thirteen years. Ok, so maybe I haven't changed quite a million, but I figure at a conservative 4 diapers a day, and an average of 3 years per child (except for Brooklyn who has only had 1 1/2 years of diaper changes), I've changed over 24,000 diapers. I was going to figure out how much I've spent on diapers, but I decided it would probably be too depressing. And don't bother to write and tell me that I should've used cloth diapers because there was NO WAY I was going there.

One million is the amount of money it cost for Lee Majors bionic arms. (The rest of his body was five million, of course.)

One million is the number of months I've been pregnant or breastfeeding. Again, perhaps I'm exaggerating just a tiny bit. Let's see... I guess it's about 103 months, or roughly 8 1/2 years.

One million is the number of pieces that fall in The Newsboys' song (on the right of this blog.)

One million is the number of times my son has told me that he's bored today.

One million is the number of cribs recalled by Simplicity/Graco. Have you heard about this? If I understand correctly, this is their third recall of cribs! The number of children's products recalled recently is ridiculous. Not only did children die/get seriously injured in these cribs, but the manufacturer apparently took more than two years before recalling the defective beds. If you have one of these cribs, stop using it immediately and please pass this information along to anyone you know who may have one of these cribs. This recall includes models that were manufactured as far back as nearly ten years ago! Anyone could have one of these, could have passed one on to a friend or relative, or could have one packed away.
I don't have this problem as my baby is a spoiled brat who has all of us wrapped around her little finger and she sleeps with me. Shhhh.

One million is the number of calories I've consumed today.

One million is the number of times my daughter has asked me to get her some shampoo today.

One million is the number of times I've told my son to settle down in the last hour.

One million is the answer to this problem D { ( f (x) ) ² } = 2f (x) D { f (x) } = 2f (x) f ' (x). Ok, so I don't really know the answer to this problem. In fact my eyes started to bleed when I looked at it. But I'm pretty sure it could be one million. I hope nobody actually likes math enough to figure this problem out just for fun, (math/fun, now there's an oxymoron!) but I somehow know that I'll get a comment tomorrow with the answer.

One million is the number of tears my son has cried over his "best friend" Bahama, the hermit crab.

The gravestone that my oldest son made for Jackson's crab. He found the wood in the garage and covered it with White Out for that lovely antiquey look.

His little coffin

The baby saw Jackson crying and kept walking over and giving him hugs. Awwwww.

Of course, a little later, she climbed up onto the kitchen table and nearly bit Jackson's hand off trying to get to the Cheerios from him, but hey, you take the good with the bad, right?

It's a Smurf! It's a Blueberry! No, it's Brooklyn!

Today has been, well it's been the kind of day that makes you want to pack a bag and head to the nearest airport. My husband hasn't been doing any side jobs since all this craziness with the auction started about a month ago. Since I've been spending an insane amount of time reading email, fielding job offers and interview requests, and trying to get some real writing done, he's been coming home after his regular job and helping out here at home. It's been awesome! I had no idea things could be this easy with a husband who only works 40 hours a week. (It's all in what you're used to.) Anyway, when I realized how far behind we were slipping with our bills (gotta pay that electric bill or no computer - gasp!), I told him that I'd manage and he really needed to take on some side jobs. So, today he did. I've been seriously spoiled this past month and had nearly forgotten what it was like being on my own all day.

Jackson came home from school, walked to his room, and emerged crying his eyes out.

'Great! What did your brother do this time?' was my first thought. In between sobs, I made out that his hermit crab had died. Ugh. This is my most sensitive kid. He's devastated. What do you do for this? Do hermit crabs fall in the "flushable category"? Should they be buried in the yard with a ceremony? Is it wrong to just toss it into the garbage? This pet didn't play fetch. He didn't know any tricks. He pretty much just hung out in a coconut shell all day, every day. Despite that, Jax is really broken up about it. Right now poor little Bahama, the deceased hermit crab, is sitting in a plastic bag until my son can pull himself together enough to decide what he wants to do.

My little Lex is sick and stayed home from school today.

After breakfast, while sweeping an entire loaf of crumbs off my floor, I saw a lock of hair. Light brown hair. To whose head did this hair belong? I held it up to Lex's head. Nope. I held it up to Clay's head. Maybe. I held it up to Brooklyn's head and as I did, I noticed a small chunk missing from her scalp. Great. The poor kid hardly has any hair to begin with and now she's had her first haircut courtesy of her brother. Thanks Clay.

I was finishing up some email before going to start dinner when I saw the baby walk in my room looking like this...

Nice, huh? She looks like Violet with the chewing gum from Willie Wonka, but instead of turning into a blueberry, she's just drooling out blue goo. Savannah was making gum from a kit my dear, wonderful, sister-in-law and brother-in-law gave her. If I hadn't already, I want to THANK YOU for that GREAT gift idea, Kelly and Ross. Anyway, Savannah had left out a small container of food coloring and needless to say, Brooklyn found it. How fun!

Don't give me that innocent look, Missy! This is Brooklyn after being cleaned up.

Is 6:00 to early to send the kids to bed?

Clay, after spending most of the day just spazzing out, blurted out, in the middle of dinner...

CLAY: I have a friend named Twindy.
ME: Oh really?
CLAY: Uh huh.
ME: Where does Twindy live?

CLAY: She lives far, far away.
ME: I see. How old is Twindy?

CLAY: She's taller than me. She's taller than everyone in our whole family.
ME: Do I know Twindy? Have I ever seen her?
CLAY: Yes, you got gas, remember?

ME: thoroughly confused Huh???
CLAY: You drove me there and got gas for your car and I slept over at her house.
ME: I drove you to Twindy's house so you could sleep over?
CLAY: Yes.
ME: When did you meet her?
CLAY: Five years ago.
ME: Interesting. You do know you're only three years old now, right? So what does Twindy look like?

CLAY: She has purple hair. And she has matching Wiggles jammies.
ME: Purple hair?! Wow! What do you do with Twindy?

CLAY: She likes to play on the beach with dolphins.

ME: Naturally

CLAY: Will you take me to her house again?
ME: Sure! Can I go along too and pretend that I live a normal life while I'm there?

CLAY: laughing hysterically Mom, you're silly!