Kissing Sylvester

Yesterday I had kids out sick, so I figured I'd be brave and grocery shop in the afternoon. I still had one daycare kid, plus my three, but I didn't think it would be too bad. And it wasn't. For the most part.

I was wearing a purple t-shirt with Sylvester (the cat) on it that says "Theattle". I absolutely love that shirt - and it shows. And the younger kids adore the shirt, presumably because it's a black & white cat.

Anyways, as we're walking through the hallowed aisles of WalMart, amid the Monday afternoon geriatric crowd, the kids are..... well.... being kids. Driving me nuts. So as I'm walking along, pushing the cart with S in the seat, I say to them "Who are you kids and why are you following me??"

At just that moment, S spies Sylvester, reaches out and grabs a boob in either hand, and pulls his face squarely between my boobs to give Sylvester a big ole kiss. I think.

The poor little old lady who'd turned in horror to see the motherless children following me looked even more shocked.

I just patted his head, smiled at her, and said, "He's definitely all boy".

It's NOT a tomato.

Aaah. Dinner time with a preschooler. There's nothing like it.

The other night, I made a pot of spaghetti sauce. So naturally we had spaghetti for dinner. As we sat out on the patio, enjoying the spring weather and yummy skettis, A speared a big chunk of tomato on her fork and held it up to me.

"I don't LIKE tomatoes, MOM!"

I looked at her and said the only thing that came to mind. "It's NOT a tomato, A. It's spaghetti sauce. Now eat it!"

And she did, with no further comments except to ask for more.

Target. With 7 kids in tow.

The other day, I realized we were out of milk. And coffee. Now we could have lived without milk, but I desperately needed my coffee. Or Coke. Or anything with caffeine. So desperately, in fact, that I loaded up seven kids and went to Target.

Not so long ago, the thought of travelling with just ONE child was enough to terrorize me. Now taking seven is just a fact of life, something that happens if I ever want to step off my property.

Once at Target, I put S in the sling ON me, R & L in the cart, and have H, A, B, & A holding hands and trailing beside me. We're doing fine. This is fun. The kids think it's a blast and are quacking as they walk behind me. Smartasses at the age of 3, 3, 4, and 5.

So we go into Target and an employee spies me coming in and asks if I need help. I wave absently at the two in the cart and tell her they are the wrong size and I need to exchange them for something bigger. She doesn't think I'm funny. Of course not. She has a job that doesn't involve poop.

Meanwhile, the other four are still quacking away and now referring to me as "Mommy Duck", so I do what any self-respecting person with seven kids would do - I say "Walk this way" and start walking like a duck. A drunk duck, but a duck. And when that gets boring, we stomp like dinosaurs. Or hop like frogs. Whatever it takes.

So we get the milk, we get the all-important coffee, and we get more diapers because I remember S has like 2 left in the diaper bag and that's it. And as we head to the checkout, I see this woman watching us kind of oddly. She starts to approach me, then backs away, then comes on over and opens her mouth.

I think to myself - here it comes. The "Are they all yours" question.

Instead, she smiled and said "It's so nice to see someone really enjoying children".

If she only knew.

She KILLS me

Today H brought home a picture she drew at school. It was a picture of her family.

I was drawn in red with an extremely long body with very short arms & legs. Her father was drawn in blue and looked remarkably similar except for his hair... and I seem to be taller than him.

H and A were black stick figures. None of us had any fingers or toes.

At the bottom of the page was a purple baby, S. He was VERY detailed. Three fingers on each chubby arm, two toes on each chubby legs... even wearing a diaper. I noticed he also had big fat purple tears flying off his head, so I asked her "Why is S crying?".

With all the open honesty of a five year old, she told me.

"Because he wants milk. From your boobies. Only I didn't draw you any."

Now tell me, just how am I supposed to keep a straight face to that???

so the neighbors have been talking.....

We moved about a month ago. Shortly after we moved in, a few of the neighbors dropped by to introduce themselves and invite us to various things.... like Bunko. The lady doing Bunko called last night to make sure I was still planning on coming. Our conversation went something like this:
H - So, do you work during the day?
Me - Yes, I have a home daycare and I keep 3-4 kids as well as mine.
H- Oh, that explains it then!!
Me - Explains what? The screaming?
H - NO! We were all thinking you had triplets!!

OMG! Me, with triplets? Uhhh.... thanks but no!! What really had me laughing about that is the three kids she was referring to have a difference of 21mos in age!! A is 1/13/03, R is 4/16/04, and L is 9/9/04.... but they are all pretty close to the same size. I'm a little afraid of what will happen when S starts walking as he's NOT that much smaller than them right now. Will they think I've got quads?? (haha... NO. Cuz I told her I DON'T have multiples!)

Good to know the neighbors are talking about us! :)

Boobs, plain & simple

So last night I'm taking a bath with all 3 kids. It started out with just myself and baby S, but before I knew it, I had two little naked girls dancing around asking to get in "Mummy's swimming pool, please!!".

In they get, and H asks if I can stand S up. I do so, and I'm tickling him, asking if he's got man boobs.

H grabs her own flat chest and informs me, "I have MOM boobs!". (No honey, yours aren't anywhere close to momboobs at the moment. Give it 3 breastfed kids and we'll talk)

A stands up, throws her arms in the air, and tells us, "I have TEN boobs!". (Oh really... is there something I should know??)

I swear I will not survive childhood at this rate.