I'm getting old, and I don't wanna

This week has already been a roller coaster, and it's only Tuesday.
A few around me are brokenhearted after the loss of loved ones. And then I had an amazing Monday that got punctuated by my sister needing to go to the ER and be admitted to the hospital for a couple days. She will be fine, but she knows how to scare people.

And then... today, is another round of mixed emotions.

This goofy kid......

..... is the future of the Marine Corps

Parental torture

We're different parents from most people. We derive mirth from torturing our teenagers. I knew someone was using my razor because I was getting razor burn more frequently and having to change the blades sooner. I just couldn't PROVE it, nor could I prove who was doing it, without expensive DNA testing. Last week I bought Devildog a new razor, because it was cheaper to get the "gift" kit on the clearance endcap at Target than refill razors. A $4 coupon helped convince me. Prior to my shopping endeavor I asked the boys about their razor preferences, throwing in a comment that I was tired of someone using my razor. RW slung back that he had been using Dad's razor, not mine. I advised Devildog of this, and he said he'd suspected as much, but chuckled, adding "I bet he doesn't realize what else I shave with my razor." Regardless of WHAT parts are shaved, it's just a total biohazard to use someone else's blade. I swear, I thought I covered that detail with them, but apparently it didn't register or they just don't care.

Devildog later told the boys about this aspect of using Dad's razor. Beast laughed and said to RW "Maybe that's why your face has been breaking out so much."

Cabin Fever

It has literally been raining since Sunday afternoon, virtually nonstop. There have been periods of spit-on-you drizzling, and actual spots of NO rain falling, but it has been raining since Sunday. Can some of these businesses shut off their sprinklers for a few days? It's overkill to be running the sprinkler system when it's raining EACH DAY for free. It's looked like this all week. As I finish this post, another deluge is plummeting from the clouds that I snapped a picture right as I started this blog post. I stole the other picture from Persnickety's blog because nothing I found accurately portrayed the week's weather in my opinion.

Because it's been raining so much, the kids haven't been outside to do anything this entire week. All the kids are going bonkers, including the Stowaway, who is probably going to get nicknamed Thumper. I took Clone to Chick-Fil-A the other day so she could run around and play for an hour or so to get some of the energy out of the way. Last night friends C&S begged me to let Clone come to their house to play because their own child was firmly wedged in their unsunny places and they needed to sit down without an extra pair of little legs in the way. It was nice to not have Disney channel on the tv for a while. Except, the teenagers went no where and there was no quiet in my house anyway.

This morning, I was lazing in my bed because it's comfy and cozy in there. The kids keep trying to lay in my bed and hang out when I'm in there escaping or resting. GO AWAY! It's MY bed and yes, it's cozy because I made it that way! *ahem* sorry. Anyway, I was lazing in my bed and avoiding my parental duties to the two teens and a Clone because I am also a slacker mom who raised her spawn to be independent beings that can get their own sustenance in the mornings, including brewing a pot of coffee for the household. There arose with such a clatter - 0r more like a bunch of screeching, and yowling - the sounds of feathers and fur flying. The teenagers were pushing each others' buttons and the Clone was shrieking for them to stop. They went to blows a couple weeks ago in front of her, poor girl.
After I got out of bed and did my own shrieking, things settled down a bit, but I was still ticked. I refused to let them explain what was going on, why, how etc. I just didn't want to get in the middle of it. I need to set up a box office in the front yard, so I can make some extra money selling tickets to their fights. It might compensate for some of the stress they cause at least.

A little while later, Beast was in the kitchen and I forget what he did or said that made me look at him like I did, but I broke out the "mom stare". He stared back. After a few seconds of that he said "I guess what we have here is a good old-fashioned Mexican standoff." I continued to stare at him. Beast looked around and said "Wait, there are no Mexicans here. Let's go to Home Depot!" I continued to stare, attempting to retain the poker face, but it was failing. Comedians.

I don't own an iron skillet

And it's probably a good thing. My MIL and her boyfriend are coming to visit with what I call short notice considering our work schedules and the energy levels of a certain gestating female head of household. My house is a total closetless, stuff-filled disaster, with empty boxes in a holding pattern for moving to a new house. My husband has been busy with work, and on his one day off prior to his mother's arrival, I don't see any results of his personal efforts to improve the appearance of the house. And to boot, he's gone to bed while I culled items in the den and he left RW to clean the living room strewn with Clone's droppings. An argument ensued between me and RW. Cranky preggo, cranky teenager. Really not a good mix, but we didn't throw daggers at least. I'll save that for the husband.
What?? I told you I don't have a skillet.

Woeful Wednesday

Wednesday's child is full of woe. Well yesterday was Wednesday and for me, it was a day full of various woe. I woke up with my blood sugar tanked completely and that took me a while to get through it. I have such a high metabolism that I would diagnose myself as being hypoglycemic, which in general is the opposite end of the spectrum from diabetes. I literally have to eat every couple hours, or it's just NOT pretty. It's a bigger challenge to overcome now that I'm growing a human. The parasite just sucks more out of me, making me have to eat that much more often. Ah the things a mother will do. It was early release day and Clone got picked up 15 minutes late from school because I was just moving slow at work. I decided to scope out a nearby second hand store, because I've been looking for a bathing suit cover-up to alleviate the unsightlyness of my ham hocks. In the middle of shopping, I thought of one of the ladies from my CRHP team who has been fighting cancer for a long time. She's come to mind several times over the past couple months. I left the store shortly after that and came home to lay down. My belly was feeling heavy, and I needed to rest before trekking the kids to church for class. Plus Clone needed to work on her homework. I laid in my bed for a couple hours, talked on the phone to Persnickety - who commented that my blog has become constant commentary about my pregnancy and its varying issues and aspects. Sorry...I've long blogged about what I know and deal with on a daily basis. So, welcome to my world, thanks for not falling off my readership list of followers. I'd apologize to those that stopped reading it, but they're not here anymore to read it.
Well I looked at the clock and WOOPS, it was nearly time to go and I hadn't defunked from work yet. So off to the shower for scrubbing and relaxing. I was about 5 minutes from reaching relaxed, when there was a lot of punching and slamming of a door. I knew it was the boys. They got into a fisticuff on Saturday when I was up at the church serving lunch to the ladies at the retreat. I came home to a broken colander, trash can, and I'm afriad to even LOOK for anything else. I was essentially yanked out of the shower between rinsing conditioner and soaping my pits. I was at least able to shave my legs, while I can still reach them. They were fighting over TV programming. I told them if they got into another fight I was going to call the cops, because I'm just not going to deal with that crap. Plus it's the 2nd fight in just a few days (Saturday, then Wednesday), both times in front of their little sister. Plus if they are going to throw punches, do it in the yard. At least nothing in the house will get broken. I'd sell tickets for the neighbors to watch. Most of the time I spent sitting in the church parking lot was uncomfortable because the stress sent my belly into a tizzy. It took a while for things to settle down finally.
I came home and rested some more, made some chicken noodle soup from the stash of stock I had in the freezer, and RW carted Clone off to bed for me. I was Wanda Whiner at that point. My aunt R told me she was changing my name. She did say that admittedly it was a difficult day for me, and I had permission to whine for a while, but I couldn't let it go on forever. Then I made the error of checking my email and boards while on the phone with her.
The worst email of the day came saying my friend from my CRHP team that I thought about earlier in the day died right around the time I was thinking of her. Please keep the Ashmore family in your thoughts and prayers. Aimee had such incredible faith and she inspired me with her joy and smile, even in the face of challenge. It certainly put a lot of my day into perspective.
Then-I checked my boards on iVillage. One of the girls on my expecting club board was in danger of losing her little boy at 22 weeks because the placenta wasn't doing it's job properly. The blood flow to the baby was not good enough to keep him going till at least 24 weeks. We were holding out hope she could hang onto him till then. Vincent Patrick couldn't keep fighting any longer. It makes my heart break for her and her family. Here I am, I just look sideways at my husband and BOOM I get pregnant. Yet there are others that just struggle to GET pregnant and have to fight to STAY pregnant. It doesn't seem fair.
By the time Devildog got home from work, I was a mess of snot and tears. He listened to me whine a few minutes actually said something that wasn't caveman commentary, and was nice to me. I listened to him download his day, which wasn't a cakewalk for him to deal with the nonsense and BS a retail job hands a person.
In a word, my day was just woeful yesterday and it sucked. So today I haven't done much so far except sleep late. Thankfully Clone was helped to get ready this morning by the big brother and Devildog took her to school. I got up from the bed sometime closer to lunch than breakfast. I accompanied Devildog to the barber and we had lunch together. It was just nice to spend some time with him that didn't include kids, friends, or stress. Although, there was a guy at the counter sniping about the price of his milkshake and being a general bag of butt about it. It bemused me to hear Peggy, the lady at the counter, turn to her manager as the manager came to smooth feathers, and say "It's fine hon, he's been drinking. I can smell it on him." And Peggy, God love her, was not quiet about it, because practically every head in the place turned to see what Peggy was talking about when she said it. Yesterday was one of those days that if I wasn't pregnant, I would've been drinking. Nothing like a Whalers Vanille Rum and Dr Pepper to take the edge off a non-pregnant woeful Wednesday. But for now? It would be a Water Wednesday. No rum for me-woeful or otherwise.

I have decided to rename the Oldest

He's needed a new name, something other than 'Oldest', but nothing came to mind. Well tonight he got his name. Ron. As in Ron White of Blue Collar Comedy fame. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7WLfY2455o The boy has the right to remain silent. He lacks the ability. He talks more than I do. He talks more than my husband's Aunt J. does (IF that's even humanly possible-she seriously outtalks me to where I can't get a word in edgewise). And I was really irritated with him. Now that I've listened to this clip, I am in better humor and can go to bed finally. Except I had to post my new nickname for my son so that I could just vent a bit about what was bugging the crap out of me. I thought about knitting the towel I started last June, but it's in the van. I'm not going outside this late at night. So there you have it. Oldest, is now Ron. I might call him RW so that it has multiple acronyms associated with his new blog name. We'll see how it goes. Now I am going to bed....

Feeling like an ostrich and an incubator

Yes, it's a strange post title, but the past week I indeed have felt like playing ostrich and avoiding anything outside my immediate world. Things are a just plain out of whack these days and it's making me bonkers. I do have some ample blog fodder to share, but lack the energy to share such things. I know, it's just strange that I don't even have the energy to share blog-worthy happenings with my readers. I haven't been cranky, but back in February I was. Feeling green all the time, and constantly tired made me cranky. My oh so lovely 15 year old can be quoted as saying in a half-joking manner "I don't think you're really pregnant. I just think you're fat with an attitude problem." They've figured out quickly to just leave me alone.
Meanwhile, I have the stowaway being all parasitic and stuff. Lil bugger's bones are ossifying around this time according to the developmental ticker thing that isn't humorous like the one I posted at the top of the page. So that means I'm craving a lot of cheese, and SLEEP. I keep telling my people that growing a human takes a lot of energy. I am guessing that ossifying bones is super energy zapping because it seems like this whole past week, ALL I want to do is sleep. OK, so I do want to get up and clean and do things, but seriously, I lack the extra oomph. I need that extra oomph to get past my small speedbump when I sit on the floor or a low chair. So my nesting urge is screaming, but my body yawns. I was in the bed asleep when Devildog came home from work today. He asked if I was ok - I guess the way I was laying in the bed wasn't usual for me. I told him that I was fine, just super tired, that baby's bones are forming and it's zapping me. He grunted. You know, that code for "yea right"? I said "Hey, growing a human takes lots of energy out of me."

"I think you just tell me that because I can't prove it." See? Oldest isn't 100% exactly like me, he's got his father's snark too.

Pregnant - and with PMS

It's been one of those weeks for me, which is part of why I haven't been posting much. I have not had anything funny, snarky or even nice to say, so I have been biting my keys. I'd rather do that than need peppermint ones later anyway. The Clone has been cranking out her PMS, and the hormones are apparently contagious. I've warned the penis people of the house repeatedly that it's a crank-fest and just stay on my good side. The first trimester "bleh" has pretty much passed and the second trimester nesting has kicked in full force. My house reflects the fact that I had the first trimester bleh, and it's driving me nuts. My frustration at how little I can accomplish to quell the second trimester nesting instincts is compounding things. I have managed to clean a bunch of junk out of my daughter's closet to make room for baby stuff to go in there. She is not happy that things go in there that aren't hers. However, this 1100 square foot house has literally THREE closets and we need six. Hers is the biggest one, so it gets the most stuff by default. I'm repacking things into boxes I've brought home from work, and tossing the old ratty boxes.
In the good news department this week, I scored a plain exersaucer for $10. Yes, plain. As in, no fifty gazillion toys attached to it that require scrubbing with a toothbrush daily to keep it clean. We're prone to messes here, and simpler to clean means "good idea" here. Plus, my household is overly stimulating for the senses anyway, there is no sense in adding to a baby's (or the MOM'S) overstimulation. Three noisy kids and a baby. I'm first in line for being overstimulated by the chaos.
Second, I scored a Medela Pump In Style motor for $25. For those of you outside the mama-milk circles, this is presumably the 'mack-mamma' of breast pumps. And for you pervs googling that crap, I'm talking about lactating and feeding offspring with the boob-milk, not the hormonal crap you're searching for on the internet. Anyway, it's just the motor that does the pumping, not the tubes, connectors or parts that attach to the milk source, plus it's an older model. I am blessed to have a friend who has the same pump and extra parts that she's offered to send me, and then some.
Third, I found some fabric that said same friend is going to use to make a maternity top for me, along with some others out of fabric she found where she lives. I'm excited because the stuff loaned to me by another friend isn't exactly my style, except the t-shirts. And it's getting more challenging to dress for church because my tops are starting to not fit me in a few places. When I'm done with these clothes, I'll be returning them to the other friend, and passing along the additions I've acquired, thereby increasing and updating her wardrobe for her next pregnancy. I call it the "Circle of Giving", and I'm trying to stay on the good side of the equation here.

Now, if you'll pardon me, I have something needing to be done around here, and hopefully doesn't include yelling at unproductive, uncooperative, teenage boys. One of them wants to get on the computer and do some schoolwork. I just want my house clean. I won't even start ranting about my husband's freakish work schedule that complicates my life these days. I'm grateful that he even HAS a job. Now if I can just get the teenager who is old enough to work, to actually LEAVE the house and FIND a job of his own, it would be tremendously helpful to my sanity. God bless those homeschool parents who actually do the teaching themselves. I am not one such capable parent.

Unfamiliar Territory

The oldest is out at a friend's house helping them do stuff like Spring Sprucing and the sort. I haven't a clue what that would be, since we don't do that around here. It's one of the "perks" of not going to a brick and mortar school facility. The friend's child is homeschooled as well. I have not been ALONE in my house for MONTHS. I kid you not. In December, I had to go get the oldest from a relative's where he was living. Since early December, I have not had a single day at home without someone else up my posterior. I woke up this morning, severely sleep deprived, but excited. I can get stuff done, like mortgage and job applications, sorting through piles of clutter around my desk. Why? Because I'm not annoyed or interrupted by other people, and the boy isn't here to complain about my being in such proximity to HIS workspace. Yes, I'm having another child and will be interrupted by that one. It's different. This latest model will be dependent on me, and I will once again get into a groove like I did with Clone when she was a baby. But the oldest? Well, he has his own ideas and agendas and they don't cooperate with mine at all. I am looking forward to his finishing this stint as a homeschool student on the state's Virtual School. I love my children, but I also am one of those moms that literally NEEDS her time and space away from the family to clear her head. I practically turned a cartwheel in the parking lot when the Clone (previously the youngest) started kindergarten. I'd be one of those "ha ha! he he! ho ho! They're coming to take me away! HA HA! HE HE! HOHO!" people if I was constantly exposed to my family incessantly.
Oh wait...I am edging closer to that each day he's dragging along with his schoolwork.

I'm off to listen to the sound of NOTHING while doing SOMETHING.

I've succombed

First, let me just take a moment and breathe deeply. My 15 year old is at a friend's for a few days. My house hasn't been this quiet in ages. He has a large voice that carries, a demanding presence, and lacks the understanding that the rest of us have a strong need for quiet time. If you ever want to torture him, tape his mouth shut, and remove all sources of noise. Better yet, drop him on a remote mountaintop with no modern worldly stimulus. Indoor plumbing and electricity can be completely optional if you really want to just kill him.
My pregnant self needs a break from the constant overexposure to the boy. This baby bean can't develop appropriately with annoying stressed out hormones coursing through my veins and into the placenta. Placenta-brain/Preggo-brain is in full effect without Oldest adding to it. It's bad enough that I can't even operate a ziploc bag. I'm not kidding. I'm particular about how packaging is opened, and it's a genetic fault from my dad. So, that shredded cheese for tacos? Yea, I mangled the bag so badly the zipper thingy came off of it, the side of the zipper seal came apart from the bag, and the bag ripped below the zipper. I had to put the bag into another container so the cheese didn't dry out in the fridge.
Plus, I have been crazy busy with work this week, and was stressed out about it because I didn't read instructions early and plan appropriately. Then others dropped the ball too along the way. Friday was my day off, and I hogged the computer and really annoyed the Oldest. Then I "bed surfed" for a bit and after I got Clone from school, I decided to follow through with the threat I've been making since January. I went shoe shopping. It went better than today's house shopping adventure. I found something I liked at a kick butt price.

Meet Alice Peacock.
Yes, my shoes have a name. Crocs makes a style called Alice, in a color called Peacock. So why not? I can't talk baby names with Devildog. He refuses to go there till we have the big ultrasound in a couple months. Why waste valuable cranial energy coming up with a name we won't use for lack of matching gender right?
I have Persnickety to thank for sending me over the edge back in January when we went to Disney for my birthday. She loaned me a pair of her lavender Crocs that hadn't been on her own two feet yet. I walked all day in those shoes and didn't have the first bit of discomfort, save the stuff associated with being "freshly planted" with this stowaway. Oh yea, and the freezing cold that we actually DO get here in Florida. It was SUPPOSED to be nice that day. Hmph. But my body didn't ache from walking. So I finally made it to the outlet mall and stopped at Motherhood Maternity to see what they had. I did find a cute nursing top, but sadly, it displayed more cleavage than the world needed to see of me. I spent an hour in the Crocs store. I tried on several pair. Alice Peacock was an instant "ahh, comfy" I still looked for another pair, in something other than blue, because I wanted a brown or black pair, but the styles in that color I liked, were NOT available in my big honkin foot size. The ones that were remotely close, were too snug in key places. I'm picky about my feet touching the shoes in certain places. Across the ball of my foot and my toes are important places for shoes to fit properly. So, yes, I did succomb to the Crocs thing. But in my defense, I have wanted a pair for a while, I'm just a cheapskate and couldn't bring myself to spend the money on them. But it's a whole lot cooler to succomb on the cheap.

Independent or Obnoxious?

Today was one of those days that I got to annoy my oldest, who I think I'll call my NonConformist. It may end up getting abbreviated to NonCon to save keystrokes. I'm a slacker like that. Something he's accessed has generated problems with my computer and the machine was running horrendously slow for days. I'm hoping that I've cleaned it up with the series of scans that took all day today. In the meantime I culled a lot of garbage from around my desk. Apparently I've been neglecting the area. Go figure. The boy hasn't been online and he's having computer withdrawals. I'm such an evil mother like that too. How dare I not allow him to get online to do his schoolwork, because now he's behind in his work for the state's Virtual School. I have no sympathy for him. If he truly did his work in the total time he spends online he'd have much more work banked ahead and missing a day wouldn't be the least bit of an issue. I would have allowed him 2 hours to get as much work done as possible except one of the scans literally took ALL day from 9:30 this morning to sometime after 6 PM tonight. So, I didn't let him on the computer while I was gone to take the younger two kids to to class at church. I didn't want the scan to take even longer than it already was. In the process he's been a royal pain today. Meh. I've developed a poker face, so I haven't let his ranting and rambling bother me. I went with a friend to a bookstore, and Clone was scoping out material while I sat in the coffee shop relaxing. Last week the tables were full. Today they were empty. There were four others there, all male. One teenage-looking young guy, kind of punkish reading something, probably fantasy or anime type of stuff. A 20-something with a couple novels, his cellphone, a motorcycle helmet and a backpack that resembled something for camping or military use. Given his gait and carriage, I'm going with the assumption this guy was affiliated with the military somehow. There was a middle aged, overweight, and balding guy with thick glasses, complete with neoprene straps to keep them from falling off his head. I didn't look at what he was reading, but he had a fair size stack of books. Then there was this guy...another 20 something, obviously studying and trying to cram a ton of information into his grey matter. I caught glimpses of him off in thought. Then Clone brought a poetry book over to read aloud. She tired of the book by Mattie Stepanek and ran off to the kids' section to find something else. I got up to toss my cup, and the studying guy said "She reads really well." "Thanks. Not bad for first grade. I suspect it has something to do with my refusal to baby talk to my kids." He asked if Clone was around other kids. I said "she has two teenage brothers and lots of other friends' kids." Then Clone mentioned the one in gestation. I knew she'd never keep that a secret once we told her...geesh. Student said that he didn't have kids, but had 40 nieces and nephews, and that he was one of 10 kids. I think he added the sibling count because my jaw hit the floor at the number of times he's an uncle. I joked that no one was going to harass him to have kids anytime soon. Nope, not Catholic, but a military family that just kept having kids. Because really...after 3, what's one more right? He moved down here from Alaska, to go to Commercial Diving School, learn to weld, get away from the cold, and along with all that get going with a career in deep sea diving work. The welding was additional insurance to keep employment. His course is very accelerated and intense and full of prior service military folks. My daughter then started flirting heavily with this guy, giggling inanely like a school-girl, and saying "Call me". He asked what I was teaching my daughter, which was quickly met with, "She has two teenaged brothers, and attends public school, anything is possible." He talked about traveling with his family as a child between Japan, 10 bases in the lower 48, and finally living in Alaska. I related that my life was rather mundane, high school sweetheart, children, brief stint at Camp Lejune with the husband, back here, interesting but not so much excitement. He said "it is what you make of it" which is very true. Then Clone returned with a 4 inch stack of kid books to read, mindless of the short time we had left to get back to church to retrieve the other kids. She got one book read, which was logged in her reading log for school to count towards her 25 books for the quarter. At which point the guy went back to his studying. We never exchanged names. I can understand why the girl was flirting with the guy. He was easy on the eyes and seemed to have a decent personality. It's nice to find a person with distinct goals and taking action to achieve them. I'd like to think he's a credit to his parents and that they raised him well. I have no idea if he ever behaved like my non-conformist child in his middle teen years. But Student admitted to being too independent minded for the military. It's not entirely a bad thing to be independent, but it's another course of life if you choose to be a disrespectful oaf to everyone around you for the sake of being one. It remains to be seen if my oldest will be an "Independent minded" individual, or if he'll continue to be anti-everything to everyone around him.

Mind Your Mouth

I was busy chatting with Yankee Belle and pimping my oldest out to help her move. He's homeschooled via Virtual School, he's male, he has muscle-type things on his person. In short, he's available and capable of helping. I pulled the pity card out, briefly explaining the situation to him, and he actually agreed to help her. Of course, he began lurking behind me reading the conversation with her, and started acting like an annoying little kid. (My people are all little kids in disguise, I swear. ::Cue Toys R Us commercial theme song::) He decided to poke my belly button. That turkey timer popping out is a long way off pal, you're not going to find anything interesting in there, like perhaps you would spelunking in Devildog's navel. I told him to leave my tummy alone. It's expanding and I'm self concious about it at the moment. The boy was lucky I was not in a heinously fould mood, and that I was actually in good spirits. He had the cajones to say (jokingly, but still....) "I wonder if you're just getting fat and having attitude problems."
This will not be forgotten. When I really am fat and miserable this Summer, he will regret saying this. It will come back to haunt him. Just like the conversation between me and the Clone not too long ago returns to bite someone.

Therapy, in public

Today, was bad. Very very very BAAAAAAD. (Sheep anyone?) And I refuse to give the crap any credence at this moment. I will say that the day involves PMS for two, overexposure to the 15 year old, and all of this while Devildog was cheering for his favorite team in the National Championships. Which by the way, you know it's bad when the Devildog was around the boy for all of two and a half hours this afternoon, and the boy annoyed the crap out of Devildog the entire time Devildog was home. When he told me this, I thought "Welcome to my world pal". So, to recap....PMSing mom left with PMSing Clone, pesky 15 year old, and a loud 14 year old. While Dad goes to a friend's house to watch a major football game. Under normal circumstances, no big deal. But all these combined, was not pleasant. The kids and I got to eat a meal Devildog wouldn't touch for anything. Then I got really annoyed by the oldest and in my attempts to decompress, I went to Ravelry to drool over yarn and patterns. And found an announcement. Wheeee! Knitting Therapy and in public. Join us if you like. But don't mock us. We knit so we don't kill people and it's often much cheaper than therapy, plus you get something tangible out of it, and it's not generally constructed out of an empty oatmeal container. Plus for the few weeks that Florida has cold temperatures, warmth can be available from the creations.

Childhood interaction

I have been known to say stuff like "I don't have any cheese to go with your whine" and other sage parental commentary that demonstrates my being a slacker mom. I prefer to make use of common sense and the kind of wisdom handed down to me by my parents. However, I have developed a bent full of snark. Subsequently, it has been imparted on my children. This was heard mere seconds before I started this blog entry.
Clone: (incoherent whining) I didn't hear exactly what she said because I was reading a real estate listing with much interest.
Beast: "I don't speak whinese"
Oldest(directed at Beast): "I don't speak dorkese either"

That was then followed with an unpleasant interaction with the oldest wanting certain food that was intended for family DINNERS and not his singular lunch today. That whole concept of "greater good" is lost on him apparently. There are methods to my madness (dimmitalltohale I want my OWN HOUSE!), but till he gets his head unfogged and out of the unsunny location, he will not fully understand them. Till then, I guess I am just selfish, paranoid, and rediculous.