Nuggets of Power

Never underestimate the power of chicken nuggets.

J-Bear loves them so much that he's replaced the words to Jingle Bells with the words "chicken nuggets" which he repeats over and over again to the tune. It's quite lovely. He also likes to say "knock, knock, who's there, chicken nuggets".

Anyhow, today we were out and about running errands and as tummies began to yearn for food, the chicken nugget requests began coming my way. (Huge shocker!)

I threw out the "we have no money" excuse and we came home.

As we pulled into the garage, my ever resourceful Ms. Els said something like, "If we can find the money, can we get nuggets?"

Sure. Why not. I personally threw out about 400 pennies while I was cleaning the house this past week, so I was pretty sure that wasn't going to happen.

About 10 minutes later the three little hoodlums came up to me in the kitchen and dumped a truck-load of loose change on the counter. Their little eyes were gleaming with joy as Ms. Els divided the change into piles of quarters, dimes, nickles and pennies. (Frankly, I was a little annoyed that any pennies had survived my purging!)

After adding it all up the grand total was ..... $7.52. I do not lie.

I asked where on earth they had found all that change. They informed me that it was in the car, under the beds, in the couch, in various dress-up purses etc. I find it ironic that not one cent of it came from the change jar we have on our kitchen counter.

I just started laughing and said, "Darn it, let's ride!"

I scooped the change into a baggie and we hit Wendy's. The cashier was not amused when I handed him the bag of change with a smile. I don't think he actually took the time to count it before he waved us on. I must have an honest look about me!

Now that I know how hard those people will work for chicken nuggets, I'm tempted to put it to use. As the only one at home during the day with a driver's license and debit card I have some serious power.

Hmm.... EXCELLENT....

The REAL Housewives of Pretendville

Starring:

Ms. Els

and

Cadie Lu

Ms. Els is married to Fire.

Cadie Lu is married to Conga.

They are all very happy together.

But, one day...

Cadie Lu: Mom, did you know that me and Ben (also, coincidentally, her uncle's name) have been planning a spring vacation?

Me: Ben? Like, Uncle Ben?

CL: Well, yes, his name is like Uncle Ben's name, but he is my husband.

M: What happened to Conga?

CL: Conga and Ms. Els got mixed up together.

M: Mixed up?

CL: Yes, that means that Conga likes Ms. Els and now they are together.

M: So, Conga left you for Ms. Els? (Trying very hard not to laugh.)

CL: Yes. So I had to get a new husband and his name is Ben. Did you know we are planning a spring vacation?

And so the world keeps turning as Cadie Lu recovers from the loss of her beloved Conga.

Stay tuned for the strained reunion of Cadie Lu and Ms. Els when the home-wrecker arrives back on set after 1st grade lets out.....

And next week: How Fire takes the news.

Bitter? Who... Me?

After reading my last blog post about the loss of my ability to captain my own soul, Hubs came home with a critical review.

He says I came off as slightly bitter and perhaps even wounded.

Huh.

Well.

My bad.

Who's the Master now?

This morning, as I was painstakingly curling my naturally curly hair, I was thinking about a motivational poem I've heard several times over the years. I Googled it and present it below:

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

-- William Ernest Henley

My guess is Mr. Henley didn't have kids. Just sayin'.

This type of poem motivated me in my youth, and now, even though it's message is fantastic, the words stirring, the sentiment appreciated, I find that it makes me giggle a bit in the face of my day to day reality.

Why? Because I haven't been the master of my fate since November of 2003. And with each child added to my family, I've almost lost the will to even attempt "captaining my soul".

Yes, I fight to keep my "bloodied head from being bowed", but by the end of yet another fight over what hot dogs are made out of, I'm willing to wave the white flag while I "wince and cry aloud".

I will give Mr. Henley one thing. I do "thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul".

Although, sometimes I think it's only a matter of time...

Disclaimer: This was written in jest and I only halfway meant it. Okay. More like 75% meant it.

Dog Lover?

After chatting with a friend who is on the fence about purchasing a puppy for her family, I decided to compile this list of questions to ask yourself before buying a puppy.

(I'm an expert because my family had a few dogs growing up - one successfully - and my hubs and I are currently harboring our second dog. Also, sometimes I feed my brother's two dogs.)

I believe that you shouldn't take the idea of adding a dog to your family lightly. I mean, I just learned that my dog may live to be 16. Awesome.

I'd like to remind you that it's easy to fall in love with the front end of a puppy, but to forget that they also have a back end!!

How to tell if a dog is right for you...

Do you like to come home to your children's doll parts lying in a pool of vomit on your couch?

Do you wish you could replace the ding-dong of your doorbell with the sound of YAP-YAP?

Do you want your visitors to take a little piece of your home with them when they go by wearing dog hair on their clothing?

Do you want a relatively easy way to keep your kitchen floor crumb-free?

Do you wish you could yell "NO" all day long, but not emotionally traumatize your children?

Do you like tripping over things that are always hovering silently next to you?

Do you have stuffed things in your home that you would like to have un-stuffed?

Do you like something to stare at you while you eat/pee/dress?

Do you want to pre-recycle your used tissue by having it conveniently pulled out of your bathroom garbage, chewed up and left on the floor?

Do you feel left out by the countless neighbors who have something barking in their backyard?

If you answered yes to these questions, then you are a fool and deserve life with a puppy.

As a bonus tip, if you really want to live a life of adventure, may I suggest a chihuahua such as my dog pictured below.

Chihuahua is Latin for "Harbinger of Destruction."

For added measure, we named our little delight Jasper.

Jasper means "Oops, I did it again".

Steroids

In sticking with our family theme of anger management issues....

Very unfortunately, Steve (aka Papa Bear) re-injured his back over Thanksgiving.

I forced him to go to the Instacare on the Friday after for the sole purpose of getting drugs. Never in my life have I been one of "those" people, but on that day I was. It felt kind of mischievous. I liked it.

Steve, however, as an employee of the health care organization we were were visiting, was slightly insulted that we were in and out without his expected "touch of healing". I thought it was the world's BEST ever visit to the doctor. In and out in 20 minutes with no crying children and a prescription to happy land. I call that excellence in health care.

But, I'm rambling.

One of the drugs that Steve was given was a delightful little medication called steroids. The doctor warned us that Steve may feel a little more "irritable" while taking this. He then shot me a look that basically meant "Buckle Up". I appreciated his warning.

Fast forward a few days. Steve has been sitting in a Lazy Boy chair for three days. He may be hallucinating due to a nice little drug cocktail. The children are practicing for their new role in the Gremlins Movie remake.

And Papa Bear...


Morphs into...

I quickly cleared the gremlins out of the room and gently suggested Papa Bear try to sleep it off.

He did.

The very next day Grumpy Bear made his appearance...

This time he was yelling and said, "I don't know why I'm so mad!!"

"It's the meds talking." I replied.

If only that was the first time that phrase had been uttered in our household.

If only it would be the last.

Temper, Temper

Try not to be fooled by the darling face you see displayed here. This child is giving her mother a run for her money!

She informed me the other day that, I quote, "I have this thing you might have heard of, it's called a temper."

Let me tell you how shocked I was by her statement. About as shocked as I was to hear that my checking account is empty. (Translation: not shocked at all.)

She must have forgotten that I was there when she was born. She was torn from my body, screaming mad, and has been mad about something ever since. (Slight exaggeration... not about the birth, about the constant anger.)

She comes by it naturally. I also had one of those "tempers" as a child. This being a public forum, I'll keep mum on her father's temper. (Love you babe!)

Which is why when she came to me a week or so ago with a problem that is going on at school, my advice was this: "If that girl does that to you again, you have my permission to punch her. If the principal or your teacher have a problem with that, they can call me."

(To myself I thought, and if they have a problem with it, I'll probably punch THEM!)

In hind-sight, maybe not my best advice. Something about turning the other check and such. But I can only keep my own temper in check to a certain level. After all, I am the person who got into a fist fight once when someone threw a ball and hit my brother in the face.

Part of me loves that at 7 years-old, Ms. Els is aware of her temper. She's learning about herself. It's cool. But, apparently I have to help her learn to control said temper. That's part of growing up.

Now, if I could just find her a good role model....