OKAY! So we are looking at two years since my last post. I am no longer a gypsy wife, homeschooling mother, or avid runner. Typical to my usual Gemini-self I have switched it up and I am sure there is entrainment in here some where.

My husband opted to take a job back in our original hometown making A LOT less money, but  it offers a much more stable environment for our Minis. We have moved into a tiny rental home that we have owned for years. It is @ 900sq ft, has 3 bedrooms and 1 bath. It is tiny for six people to live in by American standards, but I spend most of my time pretending that it is in another location like Manhattan. In Manhattan it would be a great find. Or! some days we are beach front and the property value increases immensely and I am grateful to have this piece of Heaven. Unfortunately, we are actually in a small southern town surrounded by what use to be a good neighborhood. Now, it is full of rental properties and unlawful tenants. We keep the doors locked.

I now have three jobs and do not homeschool any of the minis. I work with children though, getting paid less than I did when I was 19. It's funny how you take 10 years out of the workforce to raise kids and when you get a job working with kids after, your experience isn't credited to you. If fact, you can actually make less than when you had no experience at all. I find myself happy even to get an interview for a job and jumping at opportunities that I never would have as a college student. What a difference having to help support a family makes vs. just shooting for a title... or beer money. All in all, I like what I do. I feel most days guilty even getting paid for as little work as it requires. Jobs are hard to come by and I am blessed to have work in a field that helps people and works around my kids' school schedule.

In the past 2 years since my last post, I have become a baker. I bake gourmet cupcakes and fancy decorated birthday cakes. I average 3 orders a month which helps to pay for the kids' name brand addictions (Vera Bradley, Nike, Under Armour) and helps with sport fees(karate & soccer). I am happy to say that business is good and on the rise. I will post pics and recipe tips at another time.

So. Two years ago I was eating healthy and exercising on a daily basis. Now, one of my jobs includes working at a gym. I haven't been to the gym to exercise in three months and now spend most of my time licking icing off a beater. Yeah, didn't make it to the Disney Half Mary... but I make a mean chocolate cake!

Running

I began four months ago with great advice from wonderful friends. I started walking two minutes/running two, and slowly increased to where I can walk one and run ten to get my mile in under 12 minutes on the treadmill. I also do circuit-type training. I lift weights, do 60+ inclined sit-ups and alternate between cycling and elliptical training for a total of 3miles. I have only lost four pounds, but am down a dress size and have lowered my BMI by one point. Yea me, right?!  Nope, too soon to tell.

This week I only ran once and opted to swim and do high intensity yoga instead... which concerns me. I am bored with running and have been choosing to tread water for 30 minutes and swim laps in place of running. I have been in the pool 6 days this week. I understand that exercise is good in all forms, but I really want to run Disney's Half-Mary in January. I am beginning to wonder if I  am disciplined enough to do it.

Nellie's Evolution

We are currently living in an apartment complex that boast this beautiful pool you see in the picture above. The kids and I use the pool almost every day relishing in the fact that we do not have to clean it or treat the water.... That was until yesterday.

I was laying out and reading my new teen fiction novel while my four kids splashed and played with two children who were visiting their great grandfather. These new kids didn't know how to swim so I was doing a lot of watching. I noticed the boy go down and come up sputtering. I got to the edge of the pool just in time to see him scramble near and puke right in the water. YUCK! For those who know me well, you may not believe the next part, but it played just as I am telling you.

My 3rd 30th

I recently celebrated the third anniversary of my 30th birthday. Confused? You need not worry. I will explain.

Three years ago, I decided that time was moving too fast. Questions were rushing around me like a tornado taking me to Oz. How is it possible that I am now considered middle aged? Where did it go? I felt like I went to sleep at 23 and woke up to a life that wasn't really mine. How did I get here? Who are these little people and why are they following me... and snickering? After making a mental journey down memory lane, I decided that I was going to stop growing up. After all, I'm not getting any taller! Delusional you say? Okay, I get it . I know.... Maybe. True I cannot stop time, but I don't have to celebrate it in traditional terms.

So for my 3rd 30th, I was awakened at 12 am with a Pull-Up to the face by my youngest child. We went to church that morning and spent the rest of the day relaxing at home...including cake and naps for everyone! I finally climbed into bed at 11:59pm and was able to count down to the end of my special day. Not very exciting you say? Well, I am middle aged after all. What did you expect, lollipops and emeralds?

NellieJune and theTerrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

A Parody Of Judith Viorst' s,

 Alexnader and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day

I went to sleep with my husband and now there is a kid where he laid and when I got out of bed this morning my hips and knees ached and the alarm clock read 5:00am and when I weighed myself I was up a pound and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

 At breakfast R. was crying and J. was mad because he couldn't open his yogurt and I opened my yogurt but it was spoiled.

 I think I will move to Australia.

After breakfast the dog ate tissue and bit B. and W. wouldn't stop playing his video game to get ready for school.

I said to brush your teeth. I said to get dressed. Put the dog up I said. I said, if you don't get ready for school this instant I will spank you. No one even answered.

 I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day.

 In the gym another lady was on the treadmill and I had to do my sit-ups first. While I was on the elliptical she told me how she was down two dress sizes and she farted while running. Who needs a treadmill?

 I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

 I could tell because R. said there were no boys allowed in her room. She said that J. took the toy and that he is no longer her brother.

 I hope you don't mean that, I said to R. I hope the next time you play you share. This is every one's home and all are allowed, I said. I said that J. will always be your brother, even if we lived in Australia.

 There were two untrained workers in Subway and they were out of kid's bags. B. got two sandwiches in her kids meal and W. and J. had pizza and soda and chips. R. had a sandwich with apples and sprite. Guess who's counting calories and gave up soda and chips?

 There are an abundance of fruit flies in our kitchen.
 My ears are pealing.
 And I found a gray hair.

 It was a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day.

That is what it was because later I began to feel like I had a UTI. If it continues I'll go to the doctor. If you have it next week you WILL go to the doctor my hubby said.
 Next week, I said,
        I'm going to Australia.

 At the table we read the Bible. "...from the abundance of the heart [your] mouth speaks." He said (Luke 6:45).

 Jeb prayed for the first time aloud asking "Dear God help me not to get in trouble." Bella asked, "God help our hearts be filled with you." Reagan prayed "Lord, don't let me pee the bathroom floor." and Wyatt asked "for the healing of our friends".

I tried not to cry and HE reminded me that I am his beloved child and called me blessed.

It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Call Now!

We recently purchased a cable TV package through our local provider after years of choosing to not have any access to network television. I am amazed by all the infomercials that I've been missing. How could I have survived these past few years without the gadgets, health supplements, and exercising programs!? Below are some of my favorites for your enjoyment.  :)

This is Sensa, a weight loss supplement that you just sprinkle on you food that is suppose to make you want to eat less of the food... I think sprinkling poop, hair or bugs on food would have the same effect. HAHAHAHAHA! Enjoy.


Okay, I feel like Beavis and Butt-Head watching this one."She said butt. ha. haha. ha." College students could play a drinking game while watching, just take a drink every time you hear the word butt. Enjoy!


HONESTLY! Who would do this for 60 days? It seems like a form of torture. These people are insane. I have no doubt it works but who in their right mind would go back for seconds? This reminds me of Stephen King's, Cats Eye, where the guy goes to extreme measures to stop smoking by using a company with 100% success rating, but uses unorthodox methods... TRULY INSANE, PEOPLE!


There are just too many to list them all, but follow this website to find more great as seen on TV products. Enjoy!

The Device

While here in Macon I have stumbled upon a device that seems specifically built to make cupcake loving 30 year old women weep like an infant and sweat like a prostitute in church...

Going on a Fair Hunt

Friday night the girls and I gave ourselves Irish manies and pedies complete with glitter, green polish and shamrocks. We were preparing for the Saint Patrick's Day Fair in Mercer Village, Macon. We woke early Saturday and I braided flowers and green ribbon in the girls' hair and put green shirts on the boys.

We left in search of the fabled Mercer Village at the corner of Mulberry and Spring, only to find ourselves smack square in the Cherry Blossom Festival. So instead of green we found pink... and had a great time. When all the mini's were sweaty and grumpy and we decided to leave, we found what we were looking for just three blocks down.... Typical. :)

Motherhood is Necessary for Invention

The saying is, "necessity is the mother of invention." However, I realized as I was cleaning the kids bathroom this morning, that motherhood was necessary for me to become the inventor. Mind you, I use the title inventor loosely.

I realized as I organized the soaps and loofahs that were soggily trapped at the bottom of the tub, that a shower curtain ring can serve nicely as a hook to hang the loofahs from. Viola! A Loofah Hook... for just two easy payments of, $19.95 you too can have your very own set of Loofah Hooks, and if you act fast I will throw in an extra set for free!

This new invention got my mind working. I began to think about how much my life has changed since I was blessed with these four precious babies. I always thought that my adult years would be spent wearing fancy clothes and working full time and traveling around the world. If that fantasy got boring, I dreamed I would be wearing bathing suits living on the water collecting liberal data on how the world ocean's are polluted beyond repair. Never in a million years would the obnoxious teenaged version of myself have dreamed that she would be a 30 yr old, stay at home, home-schooling mother to 4 kids.

As I am typing this I am reminded of the verse, "For I know the plans I have for you (says the Lord), plans to prosper you, not harm you." My plans were small, self-centered plans. God's plan was bigger and better than I could have ever thought of with my sinful, selfish mind. It's a good thing that we often don't get what we want. How very lonely my world would be traveling by myself or sitting on a boat in the middle of no where. What type of personal/spiritual growth is there in doing what you want and what is easy?

So today I don a new hat. The hat of an inventor. A mother who will create lesson plans and who makes up stories and games. A mom who solves the problem of bathroom clutter...One who will drop her drawers to get her kids to laugh. A wife who invents a recipe for her husband's favorite cupcake. No, I am not your typical inventor and my name will never be remembered as a top mind who changed the digital age, and I may not be of fancy dress or have a pet dolphin. But I will always be remembered as, Mom.

The Gyspy Life

My husband and I recently decided to quit playing part time spouses and to start living our marriage as the happily married couple we are. What does this mean you ask? It means that I have decided to cleave to my husband and travel with him. It means the kids and I now live the gypsy life that he has lived for over three years. It means that I get to live with my husband and my kids get to grow up with their dad. It means that I have withdrawn my kids from school and have begun to home-school them... and it equals 365 days a years of togetherness instead of the 104 we have been averaging.

This was not an easy decision nor is it an easy lifestyle. A change this great requires lots of prayer and many months of preparation. I now run two households complete with bills and have to provide curriculum and instruction for my children who are accustomed to being occupied by a classroom of 25 kids for 8 hours a day. I left my house intact only bringing half of it with us. We live modestly, but we live together.

Most importantly, what does this mean for the reader? It means I now have much more to write about. Stay tuned and keep an opened mind. I do not claim to do things perfectly but rather to the best of my ability. A lot of mistakes and experiences are to be had on this adventure I call the Gypsy life and I wish to share them with you.

Whatever Works.

As I was tucking in my two girls the other night. They began to tell me how they were scared of the noises that the house makes. My youngest girl, age three, said that she heard strange noises in the bathroom prior to going to bed. My eldest, age seven, agreed. I explained to them that what they heard was the air conditioning unit clicking on and the vents rattling overhead. My three year old began to whine and say, "No, Momma I heard a crack. There's a crack in the bathroom." I repeated my explanation to no avail. Finally, when the three year old was on the verge of tears, I turned my back to her, pulled down my pajama pants slightly and said, "That wasn't a crack. This is a crack." She began to laugh so violently that her sister asked what I did. I turned to her and gave her a full moon. They were both so surprised that they forgot to be scared. While laying in bed that night, I couldn't help but think, "This is going to come back to bite me in the ass...crack."

Say What?

I recently was down with a cold for a few days. My husband happened to be working out of town. Each night like a good boy, he would call to see how I was feeling. Now, being that I am a single parent to four kids throughout the week, I never have time for a nice and quiet phone conversation. He would call and I would briefly tell him while kids jumped and climbed all over me, "I ran a fever last night, but am feeling better now." This went on for three nights until finally I was well again. On the fourth night, my husband called to check on me and my three year old little girl starts dashing about the room. This was so distracting that I had to ask what she was doing. She replied, "I'm running a fever."

The Real World

This is the true story... of six people... forced to live in 180 square feet... eat, sleep and play together for five days... and find out what happens... when the juice boxes run out... and no one has a car large enough to carry them... when they are forced to share... and be real (really quiet)... The Real World Nelli-June Edition


I recently had this experience due to a car malfunction near Charlotte, North Carolina. It doesn't get more real than being stranded on the side of the interstate with four kids, a police officer, a mechanic, and a taxi driver while waiting on your husband because there isn't a cab in Charlotte that will accommodate four car seats legally. However, that was just the beginning. The stress started upon arrival to the hotel.

The hotel room was a micro studio suite. Walls were a taupe stucco and the floor a speckled burgundy. The bed a full sized hard mattress topped with a polyester quilt that matched the exact design of the carpet. A single portrait of a nicer location hung above the orange paneled headboard. No curtains surrounded the windows, instead they were covered by cream aluminum mini blinds. However, benefiting the drab room was a small kitchenette complete with a full sized bright white refrigerator. The kitchen sink sat directly across from a small poorly lit bathroom. The room boast all the comforts of home crammed into a closet. Overall, this suite was not a bad choice for the money. Nor was it a bad choice for the man who normally occupied it by himself. However, for the next five days, it was destined to be the stage for the Real World Nelli-June Edition. My family of six were now sharing a space one tenth what we were accustomed to.

The kids and I spent five days and four nights cramped in the tiny room, with my husband joining us after work each night. At exactly ten every night an elephant and hippo danced above us reenacting a scene from Fantasia. My days were spent constantly urging the kids to be quiet, my voice just short of a yell. When the kids were not complaining,fighting or laughing really loud, they could still be heard from the laundry room down the hall. Thumbs were slammed in doors and training pants were soiled as we tried to share one bathroom. The kids had a video game, two Barbies and a dollhouse between the four of them. They occupied their time watching cartoons and fighting. I occupied my time urging them to be nice and forcing them to participate in exercises that I once saw on a prison documentary. At one point I remember thinking, that it wasn't so bad. I had heat, food, water. The kids had sleeping bags and pillows. Really we did have all the comforts of home. We managed to get out and play two times during the day and we had a volunteer drive half of us so we could go to dinner one night.

The producers at MTV had a great idea twenty years ago with the television show, “The Real World.” Perfect strangers in a house living together and sharing space is a recipe for drama. Four kids ages seven, five, three and two living in one room with their parents yields a lot of drama as well. I am convinced that Dante forgot a circle of hell in his Inferno, where six sinners are forced into a small brown closet with a TV that only plays children's programming. Yet I emerged sane and believe that we are a closer knit family because of our time spent together. I observed new incites to each of my family member's personalities. I learned a lot about self control. There were many tears, a bit of laughter, and lots of personal growth. Toys were shared, thumbs healed, kisses were given. We learned to appreciate and value the simple things such as a grassy hill to run down and once again perspective was found.

What No One Told You, part 1

Those of you who are blessed with children will understand and those without can probably imagine. My youngest daughter had to have minor surgery to repair an eye lid recently. I was completely fine with having this procedure done (we have known it was coming for 3 years). This lid defect is something that she was born with and it was beginning to obstruct her vision. There were medical reasons that out weighted the risk of surgery on a three year old. However, knowing intellectually about the process and being prepared emotionally for the day when it would happen is different.

We had spoken to her about going to see the doctor to get her eye fixed. But how do we explain to a child that someone is going to come get you from Mommy and Daddy and take you back to a room where they will put you to sleep and cut on your eye? How much information is too much information?

When my husband and I decided to have children, we said that we would never lie to them and answer their questions as they come as honestly as we can... and on a level that they can understand. An example of how we have done this is:

My eldest asked about the Easter Bunny, if he were real. I asked what she thought and then told her, no. A giant bunny doesn't go house to house delivering gifts to children (which is kinda creepy to me... Johnny Darko), but rather it is a game that children and parents play and that we are happy to play it with her if she likes. So she pretends and we supply gifts.

Now, back to the surgery. I decided to play the day of the surgery by ear and hold true to my policy of answering questions honestly. Thankfully, our youngest daughter(3yrs old) didn't ask any questions. She woke the morning of surgery in a great mood and never asked to eat or drink ( she couldn't partake until after). She sang and danced around the waiting room. She quickly went with the nurse when her name was called, leaving her father and I sprinting after her. However, once in the pre-op room, her mood changed.

The nurse told us to remove her pj's and have her don a tiny hospital gown. She was not happy about removing her favorite monkey pajamas for an old ratty gown. She behaved until we put the "monkey jammas" in the white plastic bag they provided. Her easy cooperative attitude changed as quickly as her attire. She didn't want the booties, she didn't want her blood pressure taken... It was getting bad so I whipped out my secret weapon, a Nintendo DS. She then played with the nurses and talked to the anesthesiologist. When her familiar doctor came in she recognized him immediately and started putting things together. I am unsure of what she thought was going on up to now. The people were all strangers and it was unfamiliar but she was going with the flow. Once she recognized someone, she knew something was up and began to act uneasy. The surgical nurses came in and she was okay until they took her. This is another point that I was not prepared for.

How do I explain to my daughter that it is okay to go with these complete strangers? Why was is surprised that she began to cry? I should have anticipated this. I spend all of my time telling her not to go with strangers and here I am giving her to two women dressed in odd clothing. Once they took her from me she began to protest and as they took her through the doors I could hear her cry, "MOMMY!!!.. my Monkey Jammas!" I thought she was scared. Really, she just didn't want anyone to get her pj's.

Let me tell you, if you never have kids you will never understand. But, I have yet to experience anything more excruciating than knowing that I cannot be with my child.... Knowing that even if I wanted to see her, I could not. Couple that with the risks of anesthesia for the first time ( you never know at this age how they will react or if they have medical allergies)and the waiting is painful. I tried to occupy my time playing on my DS and being nosy on Facebook, but the minutes seemed like hours.

I had visions of her fighting the nurses, crying for me, being confused, angry, or scared. Then I would wonder what part of the procedure he is doing right now. Wondering if it was going according to plan. Praying that she doesn't have any reaction to the medicines that they were now administering to her. Thinking about her tiny body on the table. How little she would look surrounded by all those doctors. What her eye must look like split open... What would she look like after the surgery? Would her eye be black and blue? Would it be bandaged up? Would she be nauseated from the medications? My thoughts flopped frantically the hour and a half that she was away from me.

Soon, we were taken to a private room where we met with the doctor. He explained that the surgery went well and that he was happy with the results. He told us that the muscle in her eye was deformed or incomplete. But that he found it quickly and pulled it tight to help her open the lid. He stated that it will be a bit swollen and told us how to care for her properly while it heals. Honestly, I pretty much stopped paying attention to him as he spoke and just wanted to get my hands back on my baby as soon as possible. He began to sound like the teacher in Charlie Brown... a trombone squawking in my head. I desperately longed to know that she was okay. I wanted to touch her and see her.

Then, I thought again about what she must look like after undergoing surgery. Swollen? Did he say Swollen? I prepared myself for the worst and tried not to cry out of relief. After several long minutes of waiting, we were taken to a little room where they brought my tiny daughter to me. Much to my surprise she was talking and smiling. Her eye wasn't really that swollen and wasn't discolored at all. She looked rather normal. The lid did look like a Frankenstein Monster lid, but really considering the images I had bouncing around in my head an hour ago, she looked great. I held and rocked her as nurses and the anesthesiologist came back and forth to make sure she was okay. They gave her juice and crackers and she ate and drank while clutching to me. She looked around and said, "They take me night-night." The nurse came in and told us we could get her dressed and she was happy to be reunited with her monkey 'jammas.

All in all, the experience was a good one considering that no one wants this for their child. I feel guilty that she was even born with a defect in her lid. I wonder if it was inherited from me or if it was something I did while pregnant. Intellectually, I know that there is nothing I could do about it either way and am so relieved that modern medicine can correct these things. But emotionally, I hate it. I hate that she had to go through this. I hated not being able to help her. I hated not being able to be with her. Now, when I look at her I am so glad that she had it done, but it breaks my heart to see a row of stitches across her beautiful little eye lid.

I guess this is how it is going to be for the rest of my life. Parenting is hard to describe. I have never loved someone so much prior to having kids. And with each child my heart grows. Yet, with the love comes the pain of loving someone so much. The worry and the joy. No one prepares you for this when you talk to people about having kids. No one tells you that as a parent you will experience love and joy unlike any you have ever know... and because of the overwhelming love you will also experience new levels of worry, sadness and frustration. Is it worth it? Yes. I wouldn't change a minute. I will happily take the good with the bad and pray that there is always more good.

Into the Future


Recently my eldest daughter, B., started losing her baby teeth. She is six years old and has a flare for drama. The first tooth she lost was the lower front left (you know one of the first a baby gets). This tooth was so loose that we could see the new tooth growing behind it. She was reluctant to have it pulled and kept hoping that it would come out on its own. Finally, she came home from school and it was dangling by one lonesome root. I told her that we would have to pull it. She agreed.

Isabella and I went into my bathroom and stood next to the sink. As I tried my best to grab her tiny baby tooth she screamed in pain, "Ouch, No Ma'ma!" I had barely touched it.

"Well, B. It's gonna have to come out." I said firmly.

"Okay." she agreed.

I grabbed the tiny tooth as delicately as I could and began to twist and pull.

"No, stop Ma'ma." She was crying this time.

I tried to explain, "B., I am going to have to touch it if you want me to pull it." Then, I suddenly had an idea. I found some baby Ora-gel and coated her gum and tooth. Five minutes later, I tried to pull it again.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Okay. I will try not to cry..." she said with my fingers in her mouth.

I began to twist and she began to whine and cry with her eyes squeezed tightly.

"Stop! is it out yet? Stop! Is it? Ouch... Stop." she begged.

"B.." I said. "Look, it's already out."

I looked up to see a huge grin on B.'s face as she squealed and jumped with delight. She was so happy and proud that she had finally lost a tooth. The loss of a tooth was a milestone for her, a declaration of maturity.... She was bigger than yesterday. I understood then that it was truly a turning point. In my hand I held the tiniest tooth I had ever seen. I was surprised by my emotions, and I had to fight back tears as I saw the adult tooth peering up through the swollen gum.

Maybe I think too much, but I realized at that moment that the tooth I was now looking at is the one she will have for the rest of her life. She will one day be 31 and (Lord willing) I will be looking at that same tooth. It was like seeing into the future... A future that I have little control over.

I can help her as she grows. I can help pluck away the old childhood things as she matures, but I cannot stop her from changing before my eyes (nor would I want to). I am so blessed to be able to share these moments with her. I hope that one day she looks back as fondly as I do.

All in a Day's Work

This was how my day played, Tuesday,08-03-10:

3:30am- Awakened by my youngest crying, "Mommy."
3:45am- Checked on said child. Re-tucked, kissed and told child to go to sleep.
3:46am- looked at alarm clock

4:45am- Having never fallen back to sleep, got up to use the restroom.
4:47am- woke husband as an attempt of "tiring myself out."
5:00am- went to closet and picked out my clothes for the day.
5:10am- climbed back into bed.

7:30am- woke and made myself a cup of coffee
7:35am- sat on couch and sipped coffee
7:36am- picked out different clothes and ironed them
7:50am- donned new clothes and plugged in iron for my hair

8:15am- wearing freshly ironed clothes with freshly ironed hair I opened garage and unlocked door for my mother-in-law.
8:15am- cell phone rang. answered cell phone.

8:15am- put my foot in my mouth.

8:25am- mother-in-law arrives.
8:26am- kids wake up.
8:30am- fix children juice cups. Try to remove said foot from my mouth, yet continue to gnaw on my toes.

8:45am- get off the phone and begin to command my children to get ready.

9:10am- put children and mother-in-law in the car.
9:11am- returned to house to refill sippy cup.
9:12am- returned to the car with full sippy.
9:13am- urgently ran back into the house to type a hasty email in effort to get bad taste of foot from my mouth.

9:20am- returned to car. drove 3/4 a mile down road. called doctor to tell that we late. turned around to get umbrella.

9:21am- pulled into drive way. searched for umbrella.

9:23am- on road.

9:25am- was too busy talking to mother -in-law to realize that I was driving the long way to Augusta.

9:30am- stopped to put gas in car.

9:45am- hit heavy rain... while on interstate. slow d-r-i-v-i-n-g...

10:25am- Arrived at front desk of doctor's office with four children and one brave mother-in law.

10:38am- get called back to room with the two boys(5yrs and 18mo) and waited for doctor while my youngest screamed at the top of his lungs. Held 27lbs of angry baby.
10:39am- sang "Under the Bamboo Tree." continued to hold heavy baby
10:39.5am- sang, "If Your Happy and You Know it." continued to hold the monster baby
10:40am- sang, "The Canoe Song." while baby continued to cry while I held him. Thanks Camp Pinnacle for all the songs
10:41am- played "find a white car" out of the doctor's room window with older son. Baby sniffed... and cried.
10:42am- began to jump while holding baby. baby laughed.
10:43am- continued to jump while holding monstrous 27lb baby

10:48am- Doctor entered while I was singing, playing "find that car" and jumping up and down while holding Monstro.
10:48.2am- baby began to cry while big brother covered his ears.

10:50am- 10:59am- Doctor, big brother and I yelled over Monstro while trying to discus big brother's health.

11:00am- Doctor began physical of Monstro. Monstro had to be restrained...

11:10am- Doctor is done with physical. Monsrto proceeded to kick me while doctor and I hollered at each other over his tantrum. Big bro behaved as if nothing unusual was occurring.... Nothing unusual was occurring. Doctor and I yelled at each other some more.
11:11am- Doctor suggested that I just let Monstro pitch a fit on the floor.
11:12am- Doctor and big brother had to go to another room to do the hearing test because Monstro would not cease.
11:14am- Doctor returned with big bro to tell me big bro has passed his hearing test... Which is amazing because at this point I couldn't hear a damn thing.
11:15am- Monstro was flopping on the floor like a fish while screaming. He and Big Bro stepped out for the eye exam.

11:20am- Doctor returned to room with Monstro the giant whale flopping on floor. Doctor had red bucket and shot in hand.

11:21am- Doctor gave Monstro something to cry about. Think I saw a smirk spread across doctor's face.

11:35am- finally got all four children back in car with sucker's in hand. Mom-in-law and I changed diapers.


11:45am- Finally fed my children their first meal of the day. All ate.

12:10pm- Went to "Kid to Kid" consignment shop to make cash/ credit of old items.

12:30pm- arrived at Kolh's for school shopping. fighting. shopping. Depart $116.00 less richer than I arrived.

1:20pm- arrived at Kid to Kid to redeem credit. pooped. shopped. purchased new/newer items without paying.

1:22pm- changed diaper

2:00pm- exited Kid-to Kid.

2:10pm- tried shopping at Ross. visited water fountains. Ross sucked. Parted empty handed.

2:15pm- Entered Marshal's... Marshal's sucked less. Again, left empty handed.

2:30pm- Braved, Academy Sports. fought. tried on ten's of shoes. screamed. hit. kicked. shopped book bags. nagged. complained. begged. fought. pouted.

3:30pm- Escaped Academy Sports $90.00 poorer.

3:45pm- drove interstate- longed for home. Kids slept, fought, nagged,and slept.

4:55pm- arrived home. all were safe. all were sound... yet not all of sound mind.

5:00pm- Entered house with shopping bags to find husband playing video games.

5:15pm- Brave mother-in-law retreated to her home.

5:15pm-7:35pm- Blurred, involved a fashion show with the two oldest and the eating of left over Chinese food.

7:35pm-9:15pm- I retreated to the computer while children asked me questions they could have asked their father.

9:15pm-9:30pm- laid on the floor with children and watched the end of Spider-Man 3.

9:45pm- After tucking all the children in to bed, I drank half a bottle of water, read half a chapter of a novel and fell asleep.



Here is what I learned today:

1) wear the clothes that you pick out at 5:00 in the morning. If it was so important that you had to pick them out at 5am- why change your mind? OR- Don't pick out clothes at 5am.
2) Never answer the phone if you do not have time to talk.
3) I should fill my car with gas the night prior to going somewhere.
4) I should pack the car the night before with drink pouches and snacks
5) a 27lbs baby doubles in size and strength when he is pissed-off (kinda like the Hulk).
6) School uniforms really would be helpful to a parent.
7) my six year old thinks shes should dress like a 16 year old
8) commercials are superb in brainwashing kids. To my children ," as seen on TV" means "awesome."
9) If it is bright, tacky, has characters on it, and cost 3 times the norm.- a six year old is drawn to it like a prostitute to Charlie Sheen.
10) If I am a muddled mother... then my mother-in law must be extremely brave or extremely foolish.

Musings of a Muddled Mother

I am a thirty-one year old married mother to four precious gift's from God. God blessed me (in abundance) with a string of children. We have four kids under the age of six... All single births (all passed through my who-ha). I was pregnant or nursing for almost 5 years straight, and I ain't been right since. They say having a child changes a person. I say, having four children (six and under) changes your profundity (go ahead look it up). From time to time (while driving) I have moments of "deep thoughts." You know the kind of thoughts that Jack Handy (from SNL) might have. Okay, I can't say that they are all that deep, but they are thoughts...


- If back in the day when people lived on farms and rode in wagons... and lived acres apart... If they went to the barn to milk a cow, they didn't take their four kids to the barn with them, right? How come I gotta strap all four of my kids into this mini-van just to go get a quart of milk a block away?


- Sometimes I feed the babies bowls of dry cereal (Reese's Puffs) and place the bowl on the floor for a snack... Why am I surprised when they are eating out of the dog bowl?


- Why do my kids poop in unison? Did they make a Poopy Pact?
"Nobody goes until we all go."
"The first rule of Poop Club is, we don't talk about Poop Club."
"All for one and all for number two."
"Okay, here she comes... on three."
"Let's wait until we are all dressed and ready to go. No, I got it! Lets wait until right in the middle of dinner!"

- Big, bigger, biggest, big 'ole, big 'un? Is that red neck order? Starbucks has the "Venti", Circle-K has the "thirst buster", but only in the southern most parts of the U.S will you hear someone say, "Hey, get me a big'ole drank... No,naw man. The big'un over yonder."

- If I wear my Shape-up's to the fridge to get a cold piece of chocolate... doesn't it cancel out the calories of the chocolate?

-Why do my kids only want whatever the other kid has? If one is playing with a empty water bottle the other wants it. Maybe they just want what they can't have... or maybe it didn't look fun until someone else had it? I dunno... I should try laughing and dancing while cleaning their rooms. If it looks like fun they will want to do it, right? (I will let you know how this one turns out).

- I have a theory about clowns: Nothing or no one can be that happy all the time. And if they are... they are either high or mentally disturbed. Either way I'm staying the *%@# away.

- Why do perfect strangers think it is okay to ask to hold your baby? He's a person not a dog. For that matter, why do people think they can give me parenting advice in the middle of Wal-Mart? Look, I have four kids six and under with me and $300.00 worth of crap in two shopping carts... if I were you I just stay the heck away. I could go off at any moment. If you ain't here to help (and no you are not holding the baby) shut- up. As my friend Chris says, "I tend to not take advice from people wearing pj's in public at 3pm."

-I sleep on my left side most nights. Does that mean that I will have more wrinkles (as I age) on my left side? Maybe I should change it up a bit. I mean, I don't want to look like one of those people at the talent show who dresses up like a man on one side of their body and a woman on the other... But, I would be old on one side and young on the other. Maybe I should learn to sleep on my back... or upside down.

-My life is a mixture of rushing around and procrastination. Yes, I know I wouldn't have to rush around so much if I wouldn't procrastinate...

Zebadee Bee

by Nellie June (a bedtime story I told my kids... before bed one night)

The sun was rising over the top of a beautiful garden patch. Bees were buzzing throughout the garden and a tiny voice could be heard in the wind. Young Mother Bee could be heard encouraging her boy to get ready for his first day of school.

"Zebadee!" she snapped. "Hurry up, you are going to be late for your first day!"

"Yes 'em," Zebadee said, a little down in the mouth.

"What's wrong? It will be fun. You will make new friends and learn many new and wonderful things." Mother Bee encouraged. "I am sorry, I know that you are worried, but I promise you will be fine. We really need to leave now."

"Yes 'em."

As they entered the school tree, Zebadee noticed how beautiful and large this new school was. The school he went to at the beginning of the year was nothing like this. Little boy and girl inscets and animals moved quickly to and fro knowing exactly where they should be going. Zebadee felt out of place. It is never an easy task to move to a new school mid-year, but Zebadee knew that he would be fine just as Mother Bee had told him.

Upon finding his room, Zabadee Bee entered meekly. Finding the teacher at the front he handed her his tardy slip and said, "Hello ma'am. My name is Zebadee Bee."

Zebadee could hear a snicker from the other children.

"Take a seat, please. Zebadee, we are on page fifty-nine in our book." Teacher said.

Zebadee took the first open seat. It was on the left side of the room next to a little green tree frog. He turned and smiled at the boy as he sat and opened to page fifty-nine. But the tree frog stuck out his tongue and chuckled. All the other children began to laugh.

At lunch Zebadee sat at a table by himself until the little green frog decided to join him.

"I'm John." he said and continued. "What kind of name is Zebadee? I mean Zebadee Bee? And what's with all the 'yes ma'am and no ma'am'? Who talks like that?"

Before Zebadee could answer a crowd had appeared around his table and he looked up to see a wasp laughing and a grasshopper snickering. At the next table he saw kids pointing and laughing as they whispered, "That new kid is weird. His name is Zebadee."

Zebadee, not sure what to do sat quietly and ate his lunch.

As soon as the bell rang he was out the door. He met Mother Bee and as they buzzed home he asked, "Mother, why did you name me Zebadee? Why do we have to move around so much? Why do I talk different?"

Mother Bee answered, "My sweet-heart. You speak differently because you are from a different part of the country side. Each region has their own sound. We move around because we go where there is work to be done. And most importantly, you are named after a very brave bee. Probably, the bravest bee I know."

"Really?" Zebadee asked. "Who is he? Is he famous? Was he a general in a battle? An explorer maybe?" This was an exciting thought to Zebadee. The idea that someone else had the same name and the possibility that this bee could be someone of importance was a comfort to him.

Mother smiled and replied, "I will tell you who you are named after when you are older... or you can try to figure it out on your own. We can make it our own little game."

The next day at school Zebadee was greeted in much of the same way. John laughed at him and at lunch he over heard the kids mocking his name. As John approached his table, Zebadee remembered what his mother said about him being named after a very brave bee. And suddenly he wasn't very afraid of John and the other children.

"Zebadee, hahaha! What kind of dumb hick name is Zebadee? hahaha! What part of the country side are you from where it is ever okay to be named Zebadee?" John said as loudly as he could making sure as many kids as possible could hear him.

Zebadee put down his lunch and looked John in the eye, "I'm from the South. I don't know if it is okay to be named Zebadee there, but I do know that I am named after a very brave bee. The bravest bee my Mother Bee knows. AND! who wants to be named John? Everybody is named John?" And with that Zebadee picked up his honey comb and began to finish his lunch.

The little frog, John, was so stunned that he hopped back to his seat. Zebadee thought he saw a little red wasp smile at him from the next table.

That day after school Zebadee was in a much better mood. He told Mother Bee about John and what he said and how the wasp at the next table smiled.

"Mother, you should have seen me! I was brave just like Zebadee! And John, John didn't know what to say!" Zebadee said with a smile. "Please, tell me who that brave bee is that I am named after. Give me a hint or something!"

Mother Bee replied, "This brave bee isn't only the bravest bee I know, but he is also very wise."

The next day Zebadee got to eat lunch in peace, but at recess John had plans.

While Zebadee was swinging with some other children John walked up behind and pushed him off his swing.

"Zebadee! The dumb hick from the South. Can't even swing without falling." He said loud enough for everyone to hear. "I bet they don't have swings where he is from. Are you too poor for swings? Is this your first time on a swing, ZEB-a-DEE?!" John teased.

Zebadee brushed the dirt off of his body and stood up trembling with anger.

"Oh, look! He's mad! What are you gonna do, Zeb-a-Dee? Are you gonna fight me?"

But much to John's surprise Zebadee just smiled and got back on his swing. "Yeah, John. We have swings where I am from and no this isn't my first time on a swing, but it is my first time being pushed off a swing by a mean little frog." With that the kids began to snicker but this time they were laughing with Zebadee and not at him.

"You should have seen it Mother!" Zebadee shouted as he recounted his day for his mother. "I think I might have actually made a few friends today. You know, I don't think that all of these kids are bad, but that just this John guy is a bully."

"Sounds like it," Mother Bee replied "and maybe he is just scared of whatever is different from himself?"

"Yeah. Hey. Give me another hint about who I am named after." Zebadee pleaded with his mother.

"You still haven't figured it out?" Mother Bee asked.

"Nope."

"Okay, not only is this bee brave and wise. This bee is also smart, funny and friendly. Also, I love this bee more than any bee in the world."

The days passed and Zebadee continued to go to school each day. No longer did Mother Bee have to encourage him to go, but he loved school. He made many friends and was asked to serve on the student council. By the end of the year so much had changed that he even became friends with John. Zebadee became so wrapped up in school that he hadn't noticed that his mother never told him why she named him Zebadee.

The last day of school John asked the little bee how he really got the name, Zebadee. This time John was genuinely curious.

"So, really. Who are you named after?" John asked.

"I don't know. I haven't figured it out yet. I have been so busy that I forgot about asking."

That day at home Zebadee went to his mother and asked, "Mother Bee, please tell me. Who am I named after? Why did you name me Zebadee?"

Mother Bee smiled a loving smile and said, "You are named after the bravest bee I know. You are named after a wise bee. A bee that is also friendly, smart and funny. But most importantly a bee that I love more than any other bee in the entire world. It is YOU!

She continued while hugging Zebadee, " YOU, are the bravest bee I know. Moving from school to school is a hard thing and requires a lot of courage. You are a very wise bee. There is a lot of wisdom required for one to know when not to fight. You are a smart, funny, friendly bee, and I knew it would be just a short time before you would let everyone see just exactly who you are."

Mother Bee pulled back and held Zebadee's face in her hands, "From the time you were born you have been special to me, so I wanted you to have a special name. You are unique and so is your name. There will never be another you, Zebadee."

Zebadee smiled as his mother finished, "And I love you very much."

Greener Grass
by Nellie June/ Mebella3

Growing up in the south, I often heard adults around me use the expression, “The grass is greener on the other side." Now, I don't know if this is a common phrase used in other parts of our wondrous United States, but it is very common down here. Usually this expression was thrown at me by a parent when I was claiming that a friend had something better than myself.

”But Dad. Jennifer Jones never has to do chores and her father bought her a new pair of GAP jeans!” I would plead. “She has it so much better than I do...”

“Well, you know what,” (here it comes) My father would retort. “The grass is always greener on the other side for you, huh?!”

Sad to say that fifteen years later, I haven't out grown my lack of contentment. Thirty years old and I still struggle with comparing myself to others. I'm trying to keep time with the Family Jones. Now the toys are bigger and clothes costly.

“Well, how is it that my neighbor has a new Mustang (a black GT), a boat (The Party Barge) and a pool (salt water filtration)? You know, I think that his grass is actually greener than mine and not a dandelion in his yard. What do I have to do to get that...."

While out cutting our lawn today (The Jones' have a gardener) I had an epiphany. I was riding along in an orderly fashion listening to the motor and looking down at the grass (dandelions). Slowly, I moved through the lawn. I could hear the motor get bogged down every time I would come to this certain thick patch. I hopped off of the riding-mower to check it out. Upon closer examination I realized that this was not simply a patch of thick grass, but two strips of fat green, lush, vibrantly colored, lawn vegetation from Heaven!

“Man, if only my whole yard was made up of this stuff. I would be the envy of the neighborhood!” I thought as I stepped further back to admire my little patch of Heaven. “Wait.Hold the phone!(Mr Jones has the new 4G touch screen). This vibrant grass is growing right over my septic tank's drain field. This is poop grass! This grass is so beautiful because it is full of human waste!”

As I got back on my mower and began to think about this beautiful grass that has flourished because it was full of poop, that familiar phrase came back to me. “The grass is greener on the other side.” What if the Jones' really don't have it that great? What if my peers are all show but at the root have been feasting on the septic system of the world? I mean, I know some of them well and I must say a few are full of … poop.”

My generation spends so much time worrying about having the latest car, electronic gadget, or clothes. We want our kids to attend the best schools, live in the best neighborhoods, and often not for their benefit, but often just for appearances. We want the best and we wanted it yesterday (not unlike Veruca Salt). Often we look at our neighbors and think, “Wow. They have it all. What a great life they must have.” Maybe we need to stop and think deeper.

Perhaps a person's grass is only green and not their life. Possibly deep down their life is just a septic mess. You never know. Young guys remember this: The new young hot girl that just moved into the apartment next to you might just be a shell of hotness. She might bring a lot of “mess” with her. Young ladies remember that guy that took you out in the nice car. The one with the nice hair and teeth, who said the right things and wore the right clothes. The guy you went out with because he had the prestigious job... he might just be full of “poop”. Who knows? Let this be a warning to you to investigate a bit deeper and discern what that covetous turf is feasting on.

Certainly people are capable of producing wonderfully green lawns with honest hard work. One can fertilize their yard, aerate, burn and till. When hard work is applied the possibilities are endless. It is amazing what some of the master gardeners I know can produce. Yet, I am reminded by my own experience, that the greenest grass isn't always the cleanest or purest. The grass isn't always greener on the other side. In my yard the grass is greener over the septic. And well, the Jones'.. they are now going through a horrible divorce (wonder if he will sell the Mustang).