Stomach Bugs, Similes and Toe Slaughtering

What a LONG weekend we had. And I don't mean that in a good way. On Thursday, I went to pick up Aaron from his class at Community Bible Study only to find him asleep in his teacher's arms.

Not good.

Aaron is fiercely independent and rarely allows for a drive-by-hugging, much less excessive cuddles or more-than-a-split-second holding session that would enable him get comfortable enough to nap.

It's unheard of.

When he refused lunch, I knew something serious was up. So his temp of 102.6 came as no shock to me when I checked it less than an hour later.

Then, Lucas got diarrhea. And, Ashlee puked before she went to bed.

Earlier that afternoon, I suspected what was happening and sent Elizabeth to my Mom's. Good move on my part. I'd venture to say it has now earned me Mom of 2009 status.

You see, everyone who stayed in our home got the stomach virus. Everyone, myself included, except my husband, praise God! We surely needed someone to care for all of us. Lucas continued with the diarrhea and Ashlee just the one round of puking. Then Baby Girl got the pukes and Aaron's fever continued and he had some interesting diapers.

It hit me like a ton of bricks around 2:00am on Saturday morning and I kept NO LIQUID in my body until almost 3:30pm Saturday afternoon.

It was a rough day, y'all. At noon I called my midwife to ask about dehydration and secretly hoped she'd offer me an epidural. The cramping was incessant.

8 hours later, it was all becoming a distant memory. Isn't that amazing? Saturday evening Elizabeth came home (after 3 days at my Mom's house) and by Sunday morning I felt fine. We all did.

Wow, I got a little long-winded on that part. The point in me telling you all of that is to say that I didn't get much time with my oldest girl this weekend. With me toilet hovering and her being on a Mom-imposed ban from our home, I was craving some time with my funny, sweet and thoughtful princess.

So, last night we had a nail party. Just the two of us. We've had them before but this one was super special. We agreed that if I painted Elizabeth's toes, she could paint mine. It started off innocent.


Look at that grin. So stinkin' proud of herself. In all honesty, she did pretty well those first 2 toes. But, it was all downhill from there.


By the time she moved onto my 2nd foot, I was beginning to wonder if it would look better if I just went outside and killed a small animal with my bare feet. But, it wasn't for lack of concentration. Focus was her first name.


After a second coat of polish on each foot, her work was complete. Except for a few "touch ups" where she accidentally got "a little" polish on my skin.


See how she's wiping off my 2nd toe. There, removing that little spot should finish it up nicely. Now, for a side by side.

Please note that the smear of polish you see on Elizabeth's right foot was caused by her overwhelming desire to see the photo I'd just taken of my own foot. Unfortunately, she learned the hard way that wiping your foot across the toe of your client's very wet nail makes a lasting impression. And not in a good way.

45 minutes later my toes were moving into the drying phase. To say that I had a lot of polish on my toes would be like saying that the north pole is balmy. And to be honest, I sure hope that the metaphor (or is that a simile) that I just used made sense and adequately conveyed to you that my toes had a WHOLE LOT OF POLISH on them.

Because they did. Gobs of it. In fact, as I write this post at now-near midnight, I think they may all be dry. She polished them at 8:15pm.

But, despite the bottle of polish she used and despite the amount of polish remover I will have to use tomorrow to "touch up" my feet, it was so worth it.

Spending time with her and allowing her to make my feet look like this week's find on an episode of CSI: was as amazing as finding a $1,000 bill in a pair of jeans you've not worn in 2 years.

See, that simile was meant to show you that it was rare and special. Because $1,000 bills are rare (or maybe even non-existent) and wearing jeans you haven't fit into in 2 years is special.

Unless of course they're your fat jeans, then you'd need the $1,000 to prove to yourself that gaining all that weight was actually a financial investment. Or you could just go buy yourself a lot of chocolate. Whatever you need to do to justify yourself.

My point is, my feet look terrible but my heart is full and that's rare and special no matter who you are.

Priceless

Disclaimers:
- This is Luke not Jessica (feel free to stop reading...now)
- My bride is my spell check (free help only gets you so far)
- I am not a writer

We have finally started this thing we have been talking about for nearly two years. "Date night"

Date Night (Deyt Nayht) - noun.
1. An event that is on the planner, (aka. Calendar by the toilet)
2. 1 on 1 time with one of the children, (the "big kids")
3. yes mom and dad get a night out also.

Well, tonight was time for Elizabeth and daddy to get away. We get in the car and I ask Elizabeth if she would like to go swing or go see animals at the pet store. To the park we go. After doing the monkey bars about 10 times, we run back and forth between 3 swing sets. Total distance, about 1 mile.


Then for about the next 3o minutes or so, we walk around holding hands, jumping, and being silly.

Now off to get ice cream. Daddy wait! I forgot mommy's flowers. So off we go again.


Whew that was a close one. We almost forgot. While driving Elizabeth says, "Daddy, when you hug and kiss me, it makes my heart about burst." So picture me, driving down the road, tear filled eyes, and trying to stay between the 'blurry' lines. So we eat ice cream while sitting on the back of the car and enjoying our time together. Soon it is time to go home, but for now let's enjoy the priceless memories we are given.

* 2 hours
* $5.10 - 2 Cookout shakes (one was to bring home to mommy, Elizabeth had vanilla ice cream with M&M, Reese's cup, and Oreo mixed in, SUGAR ANYONE!!!)
* a wonderful wife to stay home with the other kids
Date night with my daughter

PRICELESS

A Date and "Drag" the Dragon

My sweet Lucas boy is usually fun-loving, just a BIT strong-willed, but 100% completely lovable. He cracks himself up (and me too usually) and is just the cutest little (almost) 3 year old boy I've ever seen. These last few days have been pretty rough though, I won't lie.

Why, you ask? Well, if you've followed me on twitter at all, you will know that my sweet, adorable, strawberry blond, blue-eyed boy is being taken over by a mean, torturing little man. How's that? STEROIDS...my nemesis.

Within minutes of consuming this toxin, his personality alters to a state that I cannot recognize. I have noted that 1 teaspoon of ibuprofen does seem to alleviate SOME of his angerfilled self, but alas, he's a "Mean One" for the next 4-6 hours (just in time to receive his next dose).

Oh my word...it's B.A.D.

At any rate, I'd much rather reflect on the better times with my eldest son. Like last week for example, when we went on a whirlwind date that made me smile for days. Since Lucas is the ULTIMATE animal lover (unless it's a dog) we decided an evening of animal fun was in store.

First, we headed over to my parents' neighborhood to feed some of their "ducks" (read: geese). Apparently, these "ducks" go to bed quite early and do not love OVER-THE-TOP (almost) 3 year olds who insist on throwing balls of stale bread at them. I have no idea why they didn't flock to us. None at all.

At any rate, I got a terrible cute picture of my date, holding the bread, eyes shut tight - his new favorite pose.

After we both realized that there were no "ducks" on the planet in need of our company, we departed, determined to see something else that was alive that we could take advantage of admire from afar.

Naturally, the pet store was our target. But first, we needed something of substance, to tide us over for our animal adventure. What better than a stop at the 31 flavors to ease our rumbly tummys?

Lucas disappointed me BIG time with his poor selection of Mint Chocolate Chip. *sigh* I guess his father's attempts to brainwash him have been slightly successful. I moved past my gagging and enjoyed some Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, with a hint of mint.

I understand the conflict. Cone or cup. It's a tough choice.

After our refreshing scoops of ice cream, we were off to torture observe the animals awaiting us, all caged up, at the pet store.

First, we gazed upon schools of "pwish." "Wots and wots of pwish."

Then it was onto the "cwabs." For future notice, Lucas is "afwaid of cwabs."

Then we moved onto the birds,

which began Lucas' new idea, his sly request to take one home. As we would gaze upon the various animals, Lucas would look up at me, with BIG blue eyes and ask,

"Mom, can I sweep wif he-yum?"

To which I responded, "Um. No."

This question and answer continued with the cats,

(If you look closely, you will see the cat's paw on the glass, where Lucas' hand is. Tender.)

snakes (which I do not *shiver* have a picture of) and rats.

Finally, Lucas discovered his one true friend in the pet shop. A Chinese Water Dragon. As Lucas bent down to inspect the thing further, his "friend" leapt off the stick he was perched on and straight at Lucas' face. Lucas lurched back, fell onto his bottom and then began laughing.

"Oh look honey, he wants to be your friend." I half smirked, half gagged.

Upon that remark, Lucas fell in love. He and the Chinese Water Dragon, (who he just named, "Drag the Dragon") gazed into each others' eyes for a untimed period, whilst "Drag" continued to leap full steam at Lucas' face. Lucas would giggle, and I would shudder, wondering what that little lizard would really do if he could get past Plexiglas.

Then, I glanced down and saw the price of this tiny lizard. I'm guessing that the "pet experts" would not recommend this type of pet to a home with so many tiny, squeezy hands. Nonetheless, Lucas admired this wee Water Dragon as long as he could, until I had to pry him off the floor and carry him home.

I'm hoping our next date will involve fewer reptiles. The way to this girl's heart is NOT through molting. I'm just sayin'.

Man Food, Guns and Fresh Kill

Special Time - n. (spe-shul time) - the act of Mommy and Daddy spending quality time with one of the "big kids" doing whatever the big kid wants to do.

Lucas' special time was, by far, the most interesting special time I've ever experienced with our children. On Saturday afternoon, I had purchased some flower bulbs and seeds at the dollar store. I just knew Lucas would want to play in the dirt and plant all the flowers in our very detestable flower bed.

No such luck.

Instead, Lucas' special time was all about being 150% boy.

You see, a few weeks ago it was Ashlee's turn for special time. What did Ashlee want to do? Bake a cake. There was no convincing her otherwise. So, we baked a cake.


But OH NO! Lucas wanted to have nothing to do with planting or baking or cleaning or such. Instead, he wanted to play "Fireman" which eventually evolved into the funniest, and probably most testosterone filled, evening I've had in a long, long time....er, ever (at least for the testosteroney part).

Warning: The quality of these pictures are TERRIBLE. Namely because a certain 9 month old, who shall remain nameless, pulled our camera off of the bar and now the LCD screen does not work. And, I suck at correctly focusing pictures with the viewfinder in low lighting (which you will see why such lighting was necessary in just a second).

Anyway, our evening began with Lucas wanting to play "Fireman." Very quickly that turned into "hunting" which then evolved into 2 make-up wearing RAMBO men fighting for their lives. I knew I would eventually use that Clinque "Cherry Apple Red" lipstick for something.

Taking aim

Mean faces

After both boys had their sights aligned and their shooting techniques perfected, they went on a hunting expedition.

Strategically placed throughout the house were "enemies" that they had to find and destroy. Such enemies could look sweet and cuddly, but don't let their costumes fool you.

This is a flesh eating polar bear. There used to be a person sitting in that chair. Luckily, my protectors stalked and killed him before he had a chance to sink his flesh ripping teeth into any of us.
Because of the fierceness of the "enemies" these boys had to perfect their army crawling. As you can see, perfection is in the eye of the beholder, er...crawler.

Lucas got smart and hitched a ride on the back of his wingman.

Then, they proceeded to obliterated all enemies. There was a brief moment of turmoil, which ended in Lucas saving Luke's life from Tigger the mean leopard (yes, we know he's tiger, but my kids are addicted to Tarzan right now). He still reminds Luke, as he gently pats underneath his father's chin,

"I swafed your wife dad."

To which Luke responds,

"Yes son, I know."

At the end of their hunting adventure was a prize kill of Vance the Dog. Apparently, underneath that pile-o-dog is a smell that makes grown men snarl. Lucas is obviously oblivious to the stank of fresh kill since he's such an avid hunter.

Our evening was capped off with the ultimate man food: Hot Wings. Naturally present was the ever constant staple of our dinner diet: Mac & Cheese.


So, if you're almost 3 year old son ever requests a "Princess Party" for his 3rd birthday, rest assured that it's nothing that a little fried meat, gun fire and fresh kill can't cure.

I'm still trying to figure out who had the best time, Luke or Lucas.

Yet, it's so hard to really be considered tough when you have a porcelain princess pig peeking over your shoulder.

The Best Cuddle Place

Last night, we let Elizabeth stay up a little later than the other kids for her "special time." I asked her what she wanted to do, and her response was,

"Just spend some time with you. I will help you clean up the kitchen if you want."

So sweet. And, I almost took her up on it.

After much deliberation, she chose to watch TV and cuddle. We settled the TV upon National Geographic on a program about rehabilitating dogs. No, not Cesar Milan because I do adore him, but DogTown or DogCity or some such. I couldn't really pay that much attention because for the duration of the show our sweet, hazel eyed, curly headed daughter TALKED AS LOUD AS HER VOICE WOULD ALLOW.
"Why does that dog only have 3 legs?" "Is he okay?" "Where is his other leg?" "Why is he there?" "Are those people nice?" "Are they going to show the dog with 3 legs again?" "How many times does he have 3 legs?"

Yes, loads of questions, all of which Luke and I were unable to answer because we could not hear the TV over the sound of her voice.

Finally, we realized that the TV was on more for "background noise" and cuddled our sweet baby girl. We asked her who she wanted to cuddle with and she replied,

"My heart can't decide. You see, I want to cuddle you both, but there's only 1 of me, so I can't."

"You've got two arms, we can each cuddle one." Luke said.

"Yeah, but I've only got 1 tummy and that's the best cuddle place."

Oh, our sweet baby girl, she's growing up so, so fast.

Marshmallow-ey Delicious

About once a week, we let one of the big kids stay up a little after the others go to bed and that one gets "special time" with Mommy and Daddy. Last night, it was Ashlee's turn.

Ashlee's #1 favorite thing is anything involving a baby, but since all the babies were asleep (well, sorta...Baby Girl horned in on special time) we opted for Ashlee's #2 favorite thing, EATING.

Yes, my little 26 pound Drama Queen can pack away some food. She almost eats as much as Elizabeth and Lucas combined. It's a sight to behold.

So, last night we decided to roast marshmallows. (I just got spell checked for marshmallows...why is there an "a" in mallow? Don't we pronounce it "mellow"?)

Ashlee LOVED the 1 on 1 attention, or rather 2 on 1 attention, and even more the candle and the 'mallows.

This first one hardly made it through the roasting process. You can see full cheeks and another ready to be roasted.

We are all coming down with a cold and at one point Ashlee coughed and blew the candle out. Luke and I got a good laugh, but Ashlee didn't think it was quite as funny. She wanted us to relight the candle immediately and insisted,

"No guys! Don't waf. Dat not funny!"

Which of course, made us laugh harder.

I thoroughly enjoy our special time with each of our kids. With so much going on during the day, I often feel as though we don't get to adequately give them our undivided attention. Having "special time" helps tremendously. And before you think we stole this idea from Jon and Kate Plus 8, just know that we did this LONG before I was ever addicted to that show!

Here are some pics from our "special time" with Ashlee. Hope you have a 'mallow-ey day!

Dad showing Ash the proper roasting techniques. He was a boyscout after all, and last night I heard about a mystery "roasting badge." I'm gonna have to google that for verification.

Blowing out Daddy's 'mallow. We only did this 17,356 times. Each time she'd blow it out, she'd immediately say,
"Do dat again Dad!"

Perfecting her technique.