Ducks

We took the kids to the outdoor pool for the first time this year. We had fun swimming, and on our way home, stopped to watch a family of ducks. It was a momma with five babies, splashing in a gutter puddle. The kids were excited. As we watched, one of the ducks bolted the opposite direction and Ethan yells from the back seat, "He is getting away! Smoosh him, Dad!" :) (Glad for the insight into Ethans code of ethics where ducks are concerned.)

Adventures in hair gel, and other goopy moments.

Yesterday, I watched a movie with an uptight leading lady, and feeling some anxiety about being a control freak myself, had to retire to my room for a time, until the guilt subsided. I was there for about 15 min, when Seth came to show me that he had yucky hands. I washed them off, not sure what was on them, but thinking he had been into the soft soap, I went to investigate. I found that he had taken my pastry brush and my pastry roller, and used them to paint the piano and its bench with a thick layer of hair gel. Jacob keeps a huge jar of this stuff in the main bathroom to impress the ladies, and Seth is an opportunist. After cleaning the bathroom cabinets the floor, the carpet, Jacob's bedroom door and the piano and bench, I went to the kitchen to make dinner.

Without fanfare, I will just tell you that a few minutes later, Ethan knocked a jar of alfredo sauce off the counter, and it smashed on the floor. So, I cleaned the goopy sauce and smashed glass off of the floor, toe board and stove, then off the dustpan and sink. Another jar of sauce up from the basement and we are working on dinner once again. This time, it was my fault. I put the uncovered jar in my microwave to heat it. There was a terrific explosion, and half the sauce had lifted itself into the air and all over the top of the microwave. Gross!!!! Why is this happening to me!?! I poured what was left of the sauce over the noodles, and shut the microwave and called dinner. No one came for a while, then when they did come, they were grumping about having to help set the table. I realized that I had to clean the microwave to heat the rest of dinner, so opened it again and waded into the third slippery mess of the hour. Let us just say, that I am not always nice under these circumstances. When we finally got everyone around the table and the food on, Ethan bowed his head and prayed that mom would grow up to be a nicer mom. Sigh. I hope so too, son.

So, moral of this story, is the Lord knows I am a control freak and has given me seven children to prove to me that I can control zip. Zero. Nada. Not even my own temper, except that one he expects me to work on!!!

Uncle Paul's Reception

Paul is getting married today, but the celebrations started at a reception last evening. Our family has been looking forward to this for months now, and we were so happy to get to play!
There was dancing!

And Strawberries!

Eclairs and Cousins!

And Sunshine! Perfect! Congratulations Paul and Nelda!!

Quagmire Ahead

I am going to vent a little, or a lot. It probably won't be pretty, so brace yourself or quit reading. I will be fine when I am done, no action is required. :)

Jacob has swine flu. I don't love this. He is such a sick fellow right now! He has had a high fever and chills, aches, and some vomitting. Ugh.

Nathan is battling depression and fear. Me too. Unemployment pretty much stinks.

Paul's wedding is this week. I have been so excited for him! I hate that we are now diseased. You pretty much feel like a pariah. No one really wants you and your germs around. Ugh.

I am too tired to summon much in the way of happy feelings. Sleep and sick children are mutually exclusive.

This had better not mess with my Jacobson Reunion!!!! I get to see my family so very little.

So, Vitamin C all around, prayer, Lysol, drugs, face masks, hand washing plus sanitizer. We are going to get through this!

Seth just follows me to whine right now. I keep thinking he must be sick, but it seems to be just connected to mom. This is his new chosen mode of communication with me. I guess it is alright, I speak fluent Whine. What really makes me nuts is his need to be touching me, or on my lap, etc. while he whines. This is the POWER WHINE. Ugh.

Rats! Sigh. Bleah.

The Ice Cream Man

Leslie has just informed me that the Ice Cream Man is approaching. This event produces panic of a severe and wonderful nature, for all my children know that mommy hates the ice cream man! He might as well be the boogey man. I don't trust a vehicle, circling my neighborhood slowly, playing the most obstreperous music! I am always sure that he is casing the joint, might be a molester, or just a weirdo, or someone who might run off with my children. This is a person who makes a living taking money from children, you know. At any rate, though I do not know him/her I am prejudiced against the person behind that wheel.

My kids love this. It means that I try REALLY HARD to keep my freezer stocked with ice cream and otter pops during the ice cream man season. They know the deal is that they can have something from my stash when they hear the music coming. They have developed this crazy ritual where they all sit out front with their popsicles and wave and grin while he drives by. I am making my children nuts! Someday they will rebel and buy $2 popsicles just to show me. That will be ok. It is cheaper therapy than they will need to deal with some of my other quirks. :)

poor henery

Henry our cat isgoing to the big cat litterbox in the sky we feel so bad for him but he cant keep peeing and pooping in our house it is so discusting so my dad took him to the humain society maby he'll get adoptid but chances are low for a peeing cat i duno maby sombody wants a cat to keep ther dog in shape.

Jacob McAllister

Random Things

Seth spent an afternoon in his swim suit last week, and I discovered him in the kitchen with a knife, intently spreading peanut butter on his tummy. :) I have never tried this, but I love peanut butter for so many other things, that I am intrigued.

I have developed a new pet peeve. I hate stepping over things. This is most likely not new, just intensified of late. My three youngest boys think that summer is when you sleep in the hall under the blowing air from the swamp cooler. Ethan sleeps with a nest of about 5 blankets, one is a fat California King size comforter, another is about 5 yards of hot pink fuzzy fabric that he claimed when it came and the world relinquished it, and an assortment of crib sized blankets. Every morning I haul the pile back into his room, and every night he pulls it right back onto the floor in the hall. So, anytime late night or early morning, I have to step over Ethan and blankets, Caleb's head (he sleeps with his body in his room, head out), and Seth at the end of the hall. Seth sleeps with an assortment of toys and construction left-overs. A few lengths of trim, dad's measuring tape, this kind of thing. His nest is potentially hazardous to step over!

My basement is in step-over mode right now too. I was planning to rally the cleaning crew yesterday, but was attacked by a severe free floating anxiety complex, and so we are stepping over for one more day. (Scarlett and I both agreed to worry about it tomorrow.) Summer means stepping over in the yard, bikes parked on the sidewalk in front of the steps. Who trained these children?! I blame it on their dad. :)

Nathan actually cleaned up one of the step-overs yesterday, the wood piled on my side yard is much diminished for he stacked it neatly behind the shed. Go, Honey!

Now I am off to tackle the basement ones. If no one hears from me in a few hours, send only helpers who have long legs.