Barack the Elephant

Well, it turns out that Barack is a Republican afterall. ;)

Just kidding.

But he is an elephant.

True Story!

Barack the Elephant was born Monday, January 19, 2009...the inaugural eve of our 44th President. That's how he got his name! Lucky Elephant! ;) He was born at the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Center for Elephant Conservation. He is an Asian elephant and at birth the darling boy was 39 inches tall, 41 inches long, and weighed as whopping 250 pounds. And I thought I had big babies.

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Welcome to the Circus, Barack!!!

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If you want to send him a greeting card, Barack's e-mail address is elephantgreeting@feldinc.com

Clarification

My dear sister was kind of ticked at my husband when she read my entry about making cookies. And I felt some clarification was needed. So here's what I didn't tell you about that story...

When we visited our families for Christmas, my sister lent me Twilight, New Moon and Eclipse. And my sister-in-law lent me Breaking Dawn. I had, as yet, not read any of the Twilight books. I saw the movie and thought it was great. I didn't want to buy the books yet. I'm trying to not buy books until I've read them first, that way I know if they're good enough for my personal library collection. Some books are not up to par and I hate finding that out after I've purchased them. Fortunately for me, my sister and sister-in-law were willing to lend me their copies.

I LOVE to read. Truly! And I am a tad bit obsessive about reading...when it comes to good books. Truthfully, I should say that I get absolutely wrapped up in the stories I'm reading and everything else is left to go to seed. And when I say everything, I mean everything!

I did not think I would feel that way about the Twilight series. I mean, come on! From what other people told me about the series, I figured it was a borderline Harlequin Romance novel. Yuck! And I thought the book would be very superficial. Why? Because several people I know went on and on about how the vampires were the most beautiful people ever. And that's all they talked about. The beauty of the vampires. Completely superficial. So, I was not planning on liking the books. But when I saw the movie, I thought There's got to be something more to this series. And with the Victoria cliff-hanger at the end of the movie, I wanted to know what was going to happen next.

I figured I could grit my teeth and get through the books in a week. Then I would have read them and I would know if Victoria killed the main characters and wouldn't have to think about it again.

I should have known better.

I started reading the series a few days after Christmas and I could NOT put the books down. At all. It was pathetic. But I had to find out what was going to happen next!!!

I ignored everything else. My kids, who were home for winter break, were thrilled that Mom was letting them have movie marathons. Seriously! I don't usually let them watch that much TV, but I was busy reading. They had a Harry Potter marathon, watching all five in a row! Then they had a Veggie Tales marathon. Then they had a Disney Pixar marathon. And a Classic Disney marathon. And a Dreamworks marathon. And I read and ignored everything else.

Hubby was okay with it...at first. He knows that I am an obsessive reader. He knew that it would only last a few days because I was a fast reader. He was a good sport. He made dinner every night for our family. And he didn't complain when I ate as fast as I could then ran back to my bedroom to finish reading. And he did the laundry and the dishes and the other housework. His only request of me...Would I please take a shower because I was seriously starting to smell bad.

Again, he was a good sport. Until I finished Breaking Dawn and started the series Over Again! Then he lost a tiny bit of his composure. But it wasn't until I started re-reading the series for the third time that he really lost it and felt the need to lay down the law, so to speak. Hahaha!! Can you blame the guy! I wouldn't have been too thrilled with him if he hadn't showered for days on end or changed out of his pajamas for that same amount of time. I would have been pretty ticked off if he completely ignored our family so he could go hide out and read a book. Not that he ever would. He doesn't get obsessed by books like I do. ;)

So even though the excuses that I listed in my previous entry for not getting my house in order were true, they were not the reason that the Hubby was irritated with me. Twilight and my obsessive reading habits were the true cause for his irritation. Hahaha! Sorry about any confusion. ;)

Making Cookies...

My husband has been on my case lately about my "lack" of housekeeping. Our messy house is driving him nuts. Sheesh! We just moved in and then we had Christmas and I was missing many bookcases and shelves in which to put our stuff and the whole time I had a major sinus infection that I only got rid of completely a few weeks ago and YES, housekeeping has gotten away from me. But, it is not an easy thing to keep a house clean when you have four active kids and a dog.

Oh! I forgot to tell you, we got a dog. He is a cute little thing. Half Chihuahua and Half Poodle. His name is Dash and he is five months old.

My hubby seems to think that I should be able to clean the house while the two oldest kids are at school. His reasoning is that I only have the two little boys to deal with and they can help. True. The girls (my entertainment squad for the boys) are at school and I do only have the two little boys (who I must now keep entertained and who can destroy a room in a blink of an eye). And the boys DO help. For example...

Today we made cookies together. First I cleaned off the counter while they watched. Then I got out the Bosch and cookie ingredients, while they watched. Then I asked Little Joe to crack the eggs for me. I reminded him to crack them one at a time into the little bowl I had given him. BabyCakes watched and I put the butter into the mixing bowl. Meanwhile, Little Joe cracked his first egg and dripped half of it onto the counter. Then he started saying Ew! Ew! And demanding that I put the egg shell in the garbage. I gently reminded him that he is five and can put the egg shell in the garbage himself. So he hopped of his chair, tossed the egg in the trash, then went to the sink to wash the egg off his hands.

Did he use a chair to reach the sink? Of course not! He just pulled himself up onto the counter to wash his hands and knocked a bowl off the counter onto the floor, where it shattered into many, many little pieces. Did I mention that the BabyCakes has been watching all this time from my arms? Yeah. He was. He is cutting teeth, again, and refused to be put down. Until now. Now that there are broken pieces of glass all over the floor, he demanded to be put down. And when I didn't comply, he hit me. In the face. Lots of times.

And he yelled at me. Loudly.

So, I instructed Little Joe to keep the dog away from the kitchen, got out the broom and attempted to sweep the floor using one arm while being attacked by my Baby. Fun.

I got that mess taken care of and we got back to cookie making. BabyCakes now insisted on being out of my arms and in the chair next to Little Joe. Fine. With my arms free I threw the rest of the ingredients together in record time. Then I started dropping cookies onto a pan. And while I was thus engaged, BabyCakes took several handfuls of flour and sprinkled them all over the kitchen floor and the chair (that we stupidly bought because it was comfortable, but it was only comfortable because the seat was a made of material and padding and is completely incompatible with children) and the counter.

How did I not see that coming??? Seriously!! How??

We fortunately finished the baking process with only a few other incidents. And when we were done did I clean the bowls? Did I wipe up the flour mess? Did I clean anything at all? NO! I feel completely wiped out. And of course, the house looks worse now then when my hubby left for work.

I just can't win. But hey. At least the boys helped. Right? ;)

Guest at MomBabe's

Hi.

I was a guest poster at my dear sister MomBabe's blog yesterday. I wracked my brains, trying to think of something for her blog. And then we had our evening family prayers, and inspiration struck.

Now this is real. I did not make this up. These are my five-year old sons exact words! How did I manage to get his prayer verbatim. Well, it was the way he said the prayer. Imagine hearing these word said slowly, very, very slowly, with each vowel drawn out for at least a full two seconds. And then imagine me, trying to be reverent and trying so hard not to laugh during my son's prayer.

"Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank you for today. Please to help me not say poop and pee at dinner so my mom won't make me do sit-ups a lot. And thank you that we can go to the movie peter and watch a movie today. And thank you for the baby that's in my mom's stomach. Umm. But she's not pregnant yet, so please bless that she can have a baby in her tummy. And that's okay if it's a boy or a girl, Heavenly Father, because you can decide, if you want to…If it's a baby brother… or a baby sister…, because that's okay whichever one you choose. Because I would like a brother or a sister.

Name of Jesus Christ. Amen."

After his prayer, this sweet boy flashes me the biggest grin ever, a mixture of happiness and pride. He confidently tells me: "I know Heavenly Father answers prayers and don't worry Mom, he will answer mine and you will get to have another baby soon."

Sheesh! We just got the boy a dog. Now he wants a baby too! I just can't win with him! Haha! And don't you love how he gives GOD permission to pick the sex of the baby? Well, I guess that's fair, considering that he, in his prayers a few years ago, picked the sex of BabyCakes. In those prayers he asked Heavenly Father to send him a brother and Heavenly Father complied. It really does seem fair that this time he's decided to let God have a turn picking the sex. ;)

Persistent Pigeons

And now, another pigeon update...

We left town for a few days to visit family for Christmas. Upon our return there were THREE pigeons sitting on one post and ONE pigeon sitting on the other post, for a total of FOUR pigeons!! FOUR!! I started out with two and they doubled in my absence! I jumped out my van and yelled at the pigeons. They were shocked to see us back and took off quickly. Ey-yah!

For the next week I watched for the pigeons. I only had to go out once with the water hose. And they flew away before I could even aim right.

Still...I will be inside my house and I will hear cooing. But as soon as I go outside, there are no pigeons to be seen. All that's left are their nasty poops. Sneaky, dirty little birds!

This afternoon. I heard cooing again. I tried to be more sneaky than before. I quietly opened my front door. My son and I crept to the water hose. He quickly turned on the water while I raced to the front lawn, then turned around and aimed at the pigeon. And what did my eyes see...Not one, not two, not four, but TEN pigeons sitting on my roof!!!

I fired the hose at them, and one flew off. The others just looked at each other. Stupid lazy birds! Don't they have any sense of self-preservation! These are the same birds that, when they are in the middle of the road and they see a car coming, will walk, that's right WALK! away. And SLOWLY!! I've almost hit a few, but swerved a the last minute to avoid them. And those pigeons know that you will swerve. THEY. KNOW. IT!! Aaaargh!!

And it is with that attitude that the Nine remaining pigeons sat on my roof!!! I yelled and aimed the fire hose and threw a few rocks (don't worry, I have bad aim and didn't hit any of them). After a minute of this, they finally started to fly off. And you know what TWO of the pigeons did??? Do you? DO YOU???

They flew from one corner of my roof to the OTHER corner of MY roof!!! That's right! They weren't even scared enough to go to another roof. I hosed them again and they finally flew off.

Come ON pigeons! Can't you just live in a tree like a normal bird? Why do you insist on living on my house and leaving your big poops everywhere? Other birds don't do that? I've had other birds live near my house. And I've left bird seed out for them, because they were such good guests and I wanted them to come back. But I will leave no bird seed for you. I have a much different plan in mind for you.

And it involves...

An air rifle or BB Gun!!

What? What is that you are saying little pigeons? Using air rifles or BB guns in residential areas is illegal? Huh. Is that so?

OR are you just trying to save yourselves?

Whichever...I guess you have a reprieve, for now... At least until I can research the current laws in my little town and be sure that my plan is legal. I wouldn't want to break any laws. But, dear pigeons, YOU have crossed the LINE! Doubling was one thing. But this! Swelling your numbers to TEN???

This is WAR! The battle is over. And the War is begun....

Paranoid Husband

Hi.

So, my husband has become paranoid.

Due to the nature of his work, he is worried that stalkers or rapists or murderers or other not-nice peoples might get really mad at him and think about taking it out on his wife and kids.

I have tried to assure him that we will be okay. But he works with other paranoid guys who share (and applify) his concerns. One guy is so bad that when he and his family go to a movie, they sit in different parts of the theater so no one will know they're together. Umm. Okay. I think that is carrying it a bit too far. Maybe not.

Either way, my husband is freaking out a bit. He thinks the best and safest thing would be for me to make this blog private again. Since it was a huge decision to take this public in the first place, I'm not going to go private again. So we have reached a compromise.

I am going back and removing his name from every entry. He will henceforth be known as "Hubby". I am also removing references to the town we live in. From henceforth we live in the town of "Vaude Ville". And I will not reference his work or employer. Which is sad for you. Because he has a super-cool job that is a great asset to our community. And he has some absolutely hysterical stories (in addition to the freaking scary stories that are the catalyst to this post).

Of course, everyone who reads this blog already knows us in person. (And I don't think any of YOU want to hurt us.) And so you already know what city we live in, and my hubby's real name and job. But just don't mention it on the blog. Please. And Thank You!

Oh.

He just asked me to rename the kids too. So, yeah. If you get confused, sorry. But it will keep my hubby sane. ;)

And I'm deleting all comments that reference our city's real name or the family members' real names. Please don't be offended. I still love you.

Bad Dream

Oh. My. Goodness!

I had the worst dream last night. It was a total nightmare. If you are easily frightened, do not read any further.

Okay. So here's what happened. I had gone away somewhere with the kids. I don't know where we went. The point is, we were gone. When we got home, Hubby was having a Yard Sale. No big deal. I wasn't concerned until I saw the particular item he was currently trying to sale...my thirty-year old Husqvarna Viking sewing machine!!!

He was in the process of saling it to some crazy lady who offered him two dollars for it. And he took the money and handed her the machine! Aaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I ran to them, but I was too late. My sewing machine was gone. I could feel the tears coming. Hubby looked at me, all proud and happy with himself. As I stared at him, so sad, he started telling me about selling my machine. When he saw that I was sad he told me (with lots of pride and happiness in his voice), "Don't worry Sarah. You don't need that old machine. I just bought you a brand new sewing machine. It's a Singer from Wal-Mart. And I only paid one hundred dollars for it."

And then I started to really bawl in my dream. I was so overcome by his stupidity and the horrible feeling of loss for my fabulous sewing machine. It was really horrible. Seriously! While I'm sitting here typing this, and thinking about that dream, real tears are starting to come to my eyes! I really love that machine. I'm usually pretty good about not getting attached to material possessions. But that machine can do marvelous things. The horror that my husband, someone who's supposed to love me, would sell the darling machine! Oh! My heart can't take horrible thoughts like that. Like some cheap Singer could ever replace a Viking! That old Viking is a gem!

So, Hubby dear, If you're reading this....Do not ever sell my sewing machine. If you do, I will consider it grounds for divorce...or murder. Sorry. I still love you though. But I will hurt you if you touch my sewing machine. Just thought you'd like a warning.