A juggling technophile shares personal stories, challenges, humor and perhaps some political commentary.
Happenings in a 5 child, 2 adult household.
My house is noisier than yours. I know this because I think OSHA would require hearing protection in this place.
Our house it has a crowd
There’s always something happening
And it’s usually quite loud
[Source]
I have some wonderful noise canceling headphones
I most often listen to Pandora but chose Slacker Radio today.
Slacker: *playing Low Rider*
Amy, almost 7, skipping down the stairs, exclaims: "George Lopez!!"
*Wow! George Lopez has a nice MySpace page! I didn’t think "nice" and "MySpace" could be combined in a single sentence.
My grandmother on my father’s side was born on this day in 1918 making her 91 years old. Last I asked, she still drives…well…still has her car and license…she remember birthdays and ages better than I do. She is socially active and a woman to be admired. She’s not Twittering or using the Internet but I haven’t given up trying to get her there! I love my grandmother! She’s been an incredibly positive influence on my life.
Evan, 4 years old: "Dad, can I have a bite your cake?"
Me: "Yes."
Evan: "YEAH! Mom, Dad said I have a bite his cake!"
I love happy children!
Noah just upgraded from 12 years old to 13 years old. He went into Target with his birthday money and came out with a Wii game called "Deadrising – Chop Till You Drop" The kids play first person shooters but Tommy brought one home from a friend’s house once that had so much foul language that I had to ban it from the house. I like to keep violence in check with the children. I am realistic about it. Play acting or gaming violence is part of being a kid. Today’s games do have the opportunity to be far too graphic. This one is rated M for mature and says 17+. The element are "blood and gore," "intense violence," and "language." I have more hesitation on this one because the Wii is in the common area, it is likely to be seen by the 4 and 7 year olds.
So, my gaming friends, do I let the 13 year old keep this game or force him to return it and buy something less violent and graphic? Having the Wii spewing out profanities is probably my biggest concern.
Heading to Children’s Hospital…just because we’re bored.
Sarah: "Can I go hang out at my boyfriend’s house?"
Me: "Is anyone else going to be there?"
Sarah: "I’ll find out."
Me: "Are you ever going to have him over here?"
Sarah: "Uh, we don’t have a couch."
Me: "Need me to buy you a couch?"
Sarah: "Deal. Get a couch and I’ll have him over."
Splashes!
Noah, assisting Amy and Evan in evening baths and getting frustrated: "Evan! Stand up!"
Me: "Sarah, please give your brother some backup."
…because life with 5 children is like a police drama.
Why yes Virginia, you can overcook the spaghetti.
Cathy, leaving for a meeting: "Don’t eat the children."
Me: "I’m cooking spaghetti!"
Evan turns 4 today! Our midwife was on a roller coaster in Dollywood when Evan announced that he’d had enough of the womb. She rushed from the ride to the delivery room. As she helped Cathy deliver Evan, some of that roller coaster energy must have transferred to him because he runs non-stop with so much energy! And he is always so happy. I hope he holds onto that happiness forever. I love my children immensely. Evan really makes me smile. Many words on Reality Me are devoted to Evan.
My son officially moves from Tween to Teen today. Slow down!
I’m breaking the man rules. I’m reading from the book.
For a happy marriage:
- Make lots of money. If she needs more, make more!
- Just agree to everything. The words are "yes dear" plain and simple.
- Don’t discipline the children unless the wife first utters the words "I’m getting your father!" and then only if she actually gets you.
[Source, The Super Secret Unpublished Book of Man Rules]
We’ve all heard comedians diatribes on "yes dear." Just remember, the thing that makes comedy funny is the truth behind the words. Remember, the wife is always right! I just cannot seem to get this one through my thick head.
All day long my family tries to kill me. It’s the stairs see. They are this constant conveyor of crap flowing from up to down then carried back up again to repeat the coming down. The laundry gets dirtied upstairs but cleaned downstairs and then put away upstairs. Toys are hurled down the stairs only to be carried up and then kicked down. Sometimes dirty laundry only makes it half way down the stairs and I try hard not to fall on my butt when traversing the slippery obstacle course. When full laundry baskets go upstairs (usually via child/mule) the empty baskets return, without warning, bounce, tumble and crash down the stairs every time clanging into the joke redneck wind chime, 4 painted tin cans with bottle openers in them hanging by stings, that my inlaws thought fit our lifestyle. Little did they realize what a great alarm system the chimes make by hanging on the gate at the base of the stairs; an alarm system that provides ample coitus interruptus time without having to have one of those awkward Meaning of Life teaching moments. The stair conveyor would almost be humorous if not for my heart trying to wrench out of my chest each time I am startled out of my deep concentration. I honestly wouldn’t mind so much if it weren’t for the cat liter box that sits on the landing of the L shaped stair. A box that when it has things in it other than liter, poo and pee, causes the cat to seek other places to relieve itself such as the laundry or our bed or a nook somewhere in the basement. So every time something plops near the liter box, not only do I have to have a quick cardiac surgery to put my heart back into my chest but I have to walk over to check the liter box. I get a lot of exercise during my day.
Update: I found my wife wiping a joyful tear from her eye as she guffawed over reading this post. She added, "when I’m annoyed with you, I fold like a m-f to get another basket emptied."
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