That's Not Toilet Paper On My Shoe

Well, I finally dug myself out of the rubble. The Christmas gift rubble. I feel like I've been clawing my way out for weeks. Just when light would begin to stream in....BAM! An uncle, aunt, or grandmother would hand over another present to my spoiled brats beautiful children.

The green and red gift wrap, the curly ribbon, the bows, wads and wads of tissue paper - I couldn't escape it all. It just kept appearing and I was tangled up like a mummy in the stuff.

I grabbed the big leaf garbage bags, the kitchen ones just wouldn't do, to help dispose of the mess. As I was cleaning up I had to fight off the pup who was shredding, the already torn to bits wrapping paper, into minute, teeny tiny pieces. I then started shoving the heap, deep down into the bags, all the while trying to free my finger of the same piece of static-clinging plastic wrap from one of the boy's games. It wouldn't come off. The freakin thing would move from one hand to the other, then to my arm, then back to my finger. It was all I could do not to scream.

But scream I would. Not from the plastic, which I was finally freed from, no, NO, but from disengaging the toys from their packaging.

HOLY.MOTHER.OF.GOD!

R. received the Littlest Pet Shop Round & Round Pet Town from Santa. Curse that jolly old man. It took me twenty minutes to remove the twisted wires and rubber bands from the playset. TWENTY MINUTES! No lie, I timed it.

And you know something? The wires are bad enough. The manufacturers have been using them for a while now. I was just getting used to them and actually found scissors that cut through the wire in one clip. But now they had to steal the rubber bands from local orthodontists to wrap and wrap and wrap around each figurine. The bands are clear too, so when you drop a trillion one, which you will, you can't find it. I'll be coming across them until at least St. Patrick's Day, at which time I will be getting drunk and shooting them at Mr. Schmitty.

This time consuming act continued on and on, as the Schmitty children received quite the bounty this year. I'm still wondering if Mr. Claus is on crack.

Anywho, after everything was finally opened, I realized breaking into a bank or breaking out of a high security prison would probably have been easier than dislodging that Power Rangers Megazord from it's box.

Anyone? Can you tell me, really? What exactly is the point of fastening toys down so tightly? Did somebody really take Toy Story 2 that seriously? Was there a corporate meeting to discuss how to keep those little buggers from running amok? Honestly dudes, I think you are going just a tad overboard.

R. - the educator

T., R., and I were coloring a few days ago. It is our favorite thing to do together. I could color for hours. And I sometimes do. It relaxes me. On stressful days, I am usually pulling out the coloring books and crayons or colored pencils. I may keep coloring long after the kids have moved on to tv or puzzles.

The best conversations usually crop up while we are coloring. We all seem to just start talking. The banter flows. I learn a lot from my kids during our creative sessions. They loosen up and before you know it they are filling me in on all the happenings of their lives. It's so much better than when I ask, "What did you do today?" That question is usually answered with a, "Nothing."

Yes, I believe bringing out the artist in them gets the gears in their minds turning. Not only do they talk to me, they make me laugh too. It's hilarious to find out what goes on in their little heads.

"Mommy, can I have the brown crayon?" asked R.

"Sure, sweetie!" I reply as I look over at the picture she is working on. It is a Farmer and a horse.

"Are you going to color the horse brown?" I asked.

"No."

"Well, that's okay, use your imagination and color it any way you'd like." I always tell the kids they should color this way. I encourage them to be creative. If you want to color a dog purple with green hair, go for it!

"I am coloring brown on the Farmer. Because you know ALL Farmers are Brown!" she announces.

"Oh, yea, right. I knew that!"

Happy Birthday My Little Man!

Five years ago today, I went through the world's easiest birth. It was a definite indication of the baby's personality. Of my three children, T. is the most easy going. Yes, he can be tough, just like his siblings, but he is so adaptable to most situations. He just goes with it. He is such a middle child, the moderator, the one who makes everyone happy ~ even if that means his own unhappiness, the child with a smile on his face. He is also the most sensitive, the first to cry, and when you are the middle child you get it from both ends. I know, I'm a middle kid. I think that's why I have a special bond with him. I love all of my children equally, but my heart tugs a little when I see what he endures as the second born.

T. was my easiest birth, but my hardest to conceive. I had been through years of fertility treatments to conceive W. and I knew that I wanted more children. We began trying for our second child as soon as the doctor gave the okay after W. was born.

We tried and tried for four years. There were a few breaks in those four years, because honestly, it's hell and sometimes you just have to step back and relax. Finally my RE told me that Invitro Fertilization seemed like the next route. He recommended me to another doctor as he did not do IVF.

I began seeing the other doctor, which was over an hour away. Now that doesn't sound like that big of a deal, but those of you that know how many times you have to visit your RE during a cycle know, it can be a big deal. You have to visit them practically every other day for blood draws and ultrasounds. I had a 4 1/2 year old at home that I had to throw in the car at the crack of dawn, in cold January weather, and drive alongside 18 wheelers. That's daunting enough, but when your nerves are already shot, well it's a living nightmare. But you do it. And you get through it.

I was also very anxious about having this baby. It was right after 9-11 and I wasn't sure I wanted to bring another child into a world that was so unsure. But then I reasoned that everything is unpredictable and the love of a child would bring joy to our lives.

So, I received my nightly injections in my butt. That needle was freaking HUGE! It sucked. But I did it. We had my eggs harvested and all looked great. Three babies were put into my uterus. Now it was all a waiting game.

The day came for us to drive the hour back to the RE's office to see what was to be. One, Two, Three, or no babies. I prayed all the way just for God to give us what we could handle. That's what I prayed, over and over in my head.

I had my ultrasound and there he was, my T., his heart beating on the screen ~ mine beating out of my chest.

He still does that to me, makes my heart beat out of my chest. He's 5, that's what they do. But my heart also beats because of him, and his brother and sister. They are my loves.

Happy Birthday my baby. I love you from here to the moon and back!

(T. holding a Boa from his birthday party with The Lizard Guy!)

They Took Aim And Won

One day I was sitting at a traffic light on the way to taking T. to preschool. R. was also in the car with us, well, because she's too young to leave at home alone. Plus, she'd probably burn the house down.

Anyway, R. said, "OOOHHH look at all of those birdies!"

Then T. asked, "Mommy, why are there so many birds up on the wires?"

I looked up from my cell and stopped texting (JUST KIDDING, I thought I'd throw in a Britney Spears quip. You know, for search engine optimization!) Sorry for that, it's 4 am and I can't sleep, I am a bit slap-happy.

Okay, back to my story. I thought to myself, "Yeah, another opportunity to mess with them!" Because, I'm just fun like that. I swear the things I tell them. They still think that factory chimneys are cloud makers.

I looked up at the wire above and see a MILLION birds. Seriously, it looked like a scene from Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds".

"Oh, they are playing Bomb's Away!"

T. responds, "Bomb's Away? What's that?"

"Well, they sit on the wire and when a car drives by they let a poop go. They squawk to each other in bird language; BOMB'S AWAY! Each time they hit a car they get points. There are different points for different spots of the car they hit."

And then it happened, as though on cue, one of the little peckerheads crapped on my windshield.

"Mommy? How many points is that?"

Anybody got a BB gun I can buy?

The Ways They Entertain Themselves!

I was on my laptop, literally the whole day on Thursday. I had seven browsers going at once, each open to a different store; ToysRUs, Target, Walmart, Amazon, Buy.com, Best Buy and Ebay. All in that order. I had my three wishlists from each of the Schmitty children. I began with ToysRUs and typed the first item on W.'s list into the store's search field. Out of stock. I went on to Target. Sold out. So I tried Walmart. BINGO! I placed the item in the shopping cart. Back to ToysRUs and the next item and so on and so forth until I went through all three sheets of paper. It took forever, but I did find much of what I needed. I used the mentality that if I had gone out shopping in the real world, I would have been wasting precious gasoline driving to all of these stores anyway, so what's a little shipping expense?

As I was getting ready to purchase my loot, T. and R. came running down the stairs, through the dining room, through the kitchen, and back up the stairs. I looked up, shrugged, and went back to work.

A few minutes later they ran past me again, this time with their shirts off. They again run back up the stairs.

A few minutes later, I hear giggles, they zoom past me, now only in their underwear. Again they disappear to the second floor. I'm beginning to get dizzy watching them.

Suddenly I hear belly laughs, feet pounding down the stairs, and they run past me for a fourth time. R. is now in the lead and she is wearing her brother's tightie-whities. "Oh NO!" I think, I know what's coming. Yup, in runs T. in his sister's Minnie Mouse undies. They run back upstairs before I can even open my mouth. I just shake my head and laugh, Mr. Schmitty would be so proud!

I'm about to go back to my shopping spree when I hear laughing so hard I swear someone is going to choke. In they run, both are looking like they have eaten way too many donuts. She is still wearing his underwear and he is still wearing hers, except now they have about a zillion pairs on apiece.

"What in heaven's name?" I ask.

"Look mom!" yells T. as the two of them begin to pull down each and every pair until they are standing butt naked. As they peel down the layers they both count, "1, 2, 3, 4..........." They finish at twelve.

I guess I should be thankful they are practicing their counting skills!

After I finished laughing, I continued with the task at hand. I proceeded with my checkout. ToysRUs; DONE. Target; the effing computer froze up!! IT.FROZE.THE.HELL.UP!!!

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Hey guys, do you know where Daddy's underwear is?"