The Crisco Kid

I've always been jealous of the mothers who have soft, sweet smelling babies. I've bought and tried all kinds of creams, lotions and potions in an effort to achieve what others get with a simple bath. My kids are cursed with awful skin.

Well, I thought I had tried it all until the allergist suggested a new method for dealing with Matthew's dry, scaly skin: crisco and saran wrap. Yes, a new skin hydration therapy using common items found in the everyday kitchen.

If you thought it was difficult to dress a squirmy infant, hah! Try greasing the kid with shortening, wrapping the wriggling arm or leg with plastic wrap which is difficult enough to do on a immovable sandwich, and stuffing the wrapped appendage in a sleeper. Not for the faint of heart.

The result, however, has been amazing. It may be coupled with the fact that I discovered his antihistamine to control the itching actually contained banana juice concentrate, but now he actually feels like a soft baby.

While he is a very sweet baby, we're still working on the sweet aroma; right now it's au de piecrust (I can think of worse).

Overkill

As if there isn't enough to do already, I take upon myself these insane projects. This time it was a paper mache pinata for Stephen's birthday which we will celebrate at the beach. Mom had lots of bug stuff for a bug party and naturally we needed an ant pinata.

If you should choose to do this at home, allow plenty of time. There is a 24-hour drying period between each of the three layers. Of my original three balloons, two collapsed after the first layer and I had to start from scratch. It happened again. I ended up with the head and thorax (how's that for technical?) having three layers, but the abdomen with only one because I was tired of waiting.

As Doug helped me with the crepe paper last night, I reminded him that this is what memories are made of.

Why would I do this? Why would I spend nearly 12 hours on a bunch of ballons, scraps of paper and sticky glue that then has to be transported 8 hours in the car to be hung up and destroyed within 5 minutes? I HAVE to; I am my mother's daughter.

Anticipation

The enjoyment of the annual beach trip is more than just the sound of the waves, the feel of the sand, and the escape from the everyday routine. Half the fun is the planning and dreaming beginning months in advance of the actual trip.


Come January when I long to be where it's warm and sunny I pull out the "actual use" guide from the previous year and start making lists. Granted, these lists get lost and rewritten numerous times in the intervening months, but it makes me feel like I'm doing something to speed the process.


I check the clearance endcaps at Target, scan the aisles of Big Lots, and compare prices at Sam's always looking for good deals and fun activities for the beach. I pack and re-pack my stockpiles to make the most efficient use of space.


It's been fun to pull out the supply lists from the first family vacation, five years ago when there was only one grandchild and two on the way. We're up to six grandkids now, and the quantity of food required to feed the hungry multitudes has increased tremendously. Staple meals have stayed the same while others have been added, changed, or completely disappeared.


Last year our family made a "paper chain" of sorts with starfish to count down the days until departure. Recognizing that I could not once again live through the frantic antics of excited children, I opted for checking out some books about the beach from our local library. It's been a low-key way to prepare for the sun and sand.


As for me, I count down by spreading out the tasks. Last week we vacuumed the stray pretzels and Cheerios out of the van, played musical chairs with the three carseats, and packed towels. Yesterday I packed sheets and did 5 loads of laundry so I can pack the boys' clothes today. Tonight I'll make a solo run to Wal-mart for assorted supplies. Wednesday will be a trip to the library to return the aforementioned books and pick up books on cd to listen to on the road. With dental appointments on Thursday for the big boys, we will end the week with Frenzied Friday.


We'll do need to throw in a lesson about the names of the cousins that will be there.

Singin' in the Rain

Okay, we didn't actually sing in the rain, but we thoroughly enjoyed the sound from our screened porch. After only receiving 1/10th of an inch this month, the showers today were music to my ears.

Here Stephen is enjoying a wheat-free/dairy-free/egg-free/peanut-free/tasty chocolate chip cookie while simultaneously entertaining Matthew.Matthew was full of smiles and looking quite the big boy in his overalls. Is he really almost 7 months old?
Beware: two-year-old with knife! Workman Stephen used his chainsaw to cut up the logs which I shredded into mulch to make some "Kazuni" bread. He's quite the enthusiastic helper.
The boys really enjoyed making license plates which I had to tape to their backs because they were race cars. The red and yellow stickers are actually head lights and brake lights.

The Tree

Here you go, Dad. These were taken moving counterclockwise around the tree starting from underneath the porch.

This is a closeup of the main platform area. On the right side about 2/3 of the way down you can barely see two limb stumps sticking out; the tree measures approximately 7 feet high and 88" circumference from that spot.

OCD in the DNA

It's a simple request: "Momma, will you put together the Thomas track?" While other mothers groan at the request, I am delighted. I love to arrange the pieces of wood into new configurations. I constantly challenge myself to use all the pieces, to leave no joint empty. The problem is that the kids start playing before I've worked out the puzzle. I find myself getting very irritated, "I can't finish this if you don't leave me alone!"

Wait a minute; pause.

They couldn't care less if the pieces fit or if all the pieces are used. Truth is, it's all going to end up in a pile within the hour anyway.

We are also blessed to have a duplo Thomas track with lots of blocks for building sheds and fire stations. This morning after I had completed the track assembly (leaving track that went nowhere I must add), I set to work on the shed.

My downfall.

Of course the building has to be symmetrical and preferably the pieces must match. So when the boys joined in the construction project adding random blocks, I thought, "Just let me do it so it's right!"

I was quickly taken back to fond memories my childhood. My father with his engineering degree who made "perfect" buildings, and my usually mild-mannered mother who became obsessed with a generic "Pac-Man" game and never let us play which made me the video game-illiterate adult that I am today.

What can I say? It's in the genes.

Olympic Aspirations

An Olympic hopeful has been born - Stephen has been quite impressed with the Olympics and is anxious to compete: When I grow up to be a big girl I want to run with a long stick and jump into the air and go boom!

Should that not work out, he has invented a new Olympic event: NASCAR high dive. I'm going to get in a race car and drive off and make a big splash in the water. I think I need to contact the IOC immediately.

What We've Been Doing

We haven't fallen off the face of the earth though I feel like I am living on another planet. Here are some shots of last week's activities.


Doug has trained our kids to fetch the newspaper in the morning.


Andrew loves to gnaw on corn.


Yes, that is a Cheerio; it is Stephen. What more can I say?


Andrew enjoys climbing in his cherry picker (a tree in the front yard).


Matthew with that anxious look on his face. I think the blue eyes are officially gone.And my culinary masterpiece. Saturday evening Doug asked what we were having for dinner to which I responded, "That's a good question." (which always leaves him a bit worried). I rummaged around and produced bacon wrapped tomato stacks with mozzarella, home-grown heirloom tomatoes, and fresh basil. They were delicious though a bit girly for Doug's taste.

There's Got to be a Better Way

For years I dimissed digital cameras for a number of reasons, one of which was that I didn't want to just look at pictures on a little screen or on the computer; I want to hold them, display them, use them. Well, I am glad we finally bought into the digital world, but I have yet to print any pictures. I literally have 2000 or so on the camera that I am unwillingly to erase for fear that our computer will crash or the discs to which I have saved the pictures will be lost or compromised.

Unfortunately I have used all the memory on the card and am forced to upload pictures to be printed, but it takes FOREVER! Surely someone has a better method they could share....

Forget Waterboarding

I really think the U.S. Government needs to take a different approach to interrogating detainees at Guantanamo Bay. Forget the questionable practices like waterboarding and cold cell treatment; instead use two of the nation's best kept secrets.

Method 1: After allowing a preschooler to watch up to an hour of any given program, put him in a room with a subject and allow him repeat verbatim the entire contents of the show plus added embellishments and sound effects.

Method 2: Refuse a toddler's demands such as marshmallows for breakfast and then put him in a small room with detainee while continuing to refuse to cave in to the request, the result being tantrum and/or whining.

I am not aware of any bans by the Geneva Convention and millions of brain-dead parents around the world are living proof that such methods work. "I'll tell you anything you want, just don't leave me for another minute with that kid!"

Pigpen

This does not refer to the state of our house (though sometimes that would be appropriate); rather it is in reference to Charlie Brown's beloved friend. I think he was cloned and sent to Chattanooga. I should have known I was destined to have a brood of boys when we bought this house. Not only is the yard large with two ditches and numerous trees, but there is an ample supply of dry, dusty dirt and pea gravel. The latter has occupied the boys for hours the past few days as they alternate between building fires (sprinkling dirt on scrap lumber, with a slotted spoon no less)and making steam (dumping dirt into a 5 gallon bucket to watch the mushroom cloud).

Following in the steps of his namesake, Stephen has repeatedly gotten his knee stuck in the kitchen chairs. Bad mother that I am, I say, "Oh, let me get the camera first!" before removing the lodged body part.

Our garden is growing well, but we are in desperate need of rain.In watering my thirsty plants I found these creatures: a butterfly aptly enjoyed my Butterfly Bush and

a spider in the spirea with a most unusual web.

I guess I'd better check on the construction workers before the lumber turns into weapons!

No Bananas for this Monkey

Matthew always reminds me of a monkey in a cage when I go in his room and find various limbs sticking out between the crib slats. At 6 months old, he's always full of smiles and squeals of delight. Tonight I introduced mushed bananas to his repetoire of foods (i.e. rice cereal and applesauce). He loved it and gobbled it down without hesitation. A few minutes later I noticed a red spot on his chest and so undertook a very scientific experiment: I cut a chunk of banana and rubbed it on his back.
The picture doesn't do it justice, but a dose of Zyrtec helped reduce the whelts and vomiting emptied his stomach. Until tonight I had forgotten about the suspicious whelt that appeared during the testing a few months ago. After rechecking it, the nurse dismissed it as a fluke; guess she was wrong. What an end to a most noteworthy week:

* celebrating 4 years of home ownership with a chocolate cake
* reaching Matthew's 6 month mark
* creating the world's first "Hot Pickle Dog"
How can we ever top that one?!