Lots of Laughter

Oh, what fun it is to laugh and we do quite a bit of it here at the House of Chaos!

Last night we seemed extra giddy, especially #1 and myself. Jack told #1 to take the recycling out to the barrel in the garage. After dark, this task is one my children dread. As she scurried out the back door I pushed the door shut behind her. I then placed myself in a position behind the door that she wouldn't be able to spot me upon her return. As she came running back to the house she failed to open the door quickly enough and bounced off of it with a THUD and let out a huge bellar. In an effort to not foil my plans, I tried (really hard) not to laugh out loud. Her second attempt found her successfully in the kitchen. At which point I jumped out from behind the door and yelled "TAYLOR"! In true fashion she fell to the floor hollering as she assumed the fetal position. I'm sure this armadillo instinct will serve her well in years to come, yes?
OMG, I laughed until I peed my pants and my loving husband shouted, "Back off guys, she's all mine!" (I probably deserved that.)

I Hate Vegas

It's official. I hate Vegas and I haven't even been there yet.

I'm not sure how travel agents do it. Seriously?! If I had to book vacations for a living I'd have to seriously consider changing jobs to be... I dunno... a crack whore?

I'm in the process (I'd say I'm done, but one can never be too confident in these things) of booking a 4 day, 3 night vacation to sunny Las Vegas, Nevada for my husband, myself, and a couple of friends. One of our friends has muscular dystrophy. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find and BOOK accommodations for someone who suffers a handicap? Yeah? Well neither did I.

After SEVERAL phone calls, a couple of re-bookings, a hand-written letter, and many instances of sheer panic, I now dream about roll-in showers and electric scooters - and not in a good way. I vow to never book another vacation as long as I live. I mean it. This is why God invented travel agencies.

Oh how I can't wait for this vacation to be over so I can get back to my normal, regular fretting over my comfortable everyday chaos!

Don't Take My Baby!

The other day I was outside enjoying the spring weather we've been eagerly anticipating here in the Arctic Circle (or Iowa as some like to call it). The sun was shining and more importantly, the children were outside enjoying the freedom the warmer weather brings. The neighbors were all out on walks so I hardly noticed #3 as she pushed her bicycle up the driveway.

"Hey, Mom."

"Oh, hi, baby."

"The chain keeps falling off my bike. Colin said he has another bike I can borrow."

"Oh, that's nice of him. Have fun."

Then it happens. Then I see something so profoundly terrifying - it's all I can do not to shout out, "NOOOOO!! DON'T TAKE MY BABY!!" and run down the street after her.

My third daughter, climbs up on the back pegs of Colin's bike, hands on his shoulders, glances back and says, "See ya' later, Mom."

Be still my heart! All I see is (fast forward 7 years), that same fragile child that I nearly gave my life for, climbing on back of one of these...

..and with that same nonchalant glance back, she wraps her arms around the boy, a much taller boy, snuggling up close, and they drive off into the night.

She'll understand that her mother can't take this, right? She'll wear a helmet, yes? She'll NEVER be one of those girls I saw on the internet while searching for a picture of that bike, right?! Oh, my good stars! I can't breathe! Honey, quick, fix the chain on that girl's bike!

Play Date

Today I got to enjoy a play date with my bff, Wyn! I love our play dates!

Wyn and I have been friends since like the 8th grade. She is one of the very rare people I have found that gets me, truly gets me. Our play dates usually consist of a stop at the Olive Garden, a slow walk through the aisles of Target, random other stops, and a butt-load of laughing.

This particular play date involved several outbursts of said laughter. To explain them all here would involve a myriad of tangled stories that in the end you probably would not find very entertaining. My bff and I have discovered that we have a strange language that others simply can't appreciate (our husbands have accepted that and use it to their advantage when they don't want to see chick-flicks). Just know we "clutched our happy guts" a LOT! There was the digging of the cloves incident, the pushy Tradeholm shoe salesmen, the obnoxious stench that seemed to follow us every where, and the threat on the life of the Corolla. See, not funny to you, but Wyn is laughing right out loud (holla!).

Here is my all-time bff story. I still laugh every time I try to tell it (which probably distracts from the hilarity of it).

When Wyn and I were in high school we worked with a few college guys we considered friends (I'm not sure what they considered us, if they even did consider us). One Sunday afternoon we borrowed a bike from one of the guys for a wild ride around our sleepy hometown. The guy, we'll call him Todd (as that was his name), Todd lived in a house on campus with several other guys. Some of these guys peaked our interest (mostly Wyn's, I just played along - LOVE YA, WYN!). Upon returning the bike to Todd's house we stepped in to let him know and found no one home. We took this opportunity to wander around a bit and take a peak inside one guy-of-interest's room. While we were upstairs (would you consider this trespassing if the front door was wide open?) we heard someone come home. CRAP! We tried to cover up our misdemeanor offense (that is only a misdemeanor, right?) by trotting down the stairs shouting for Todd like we'd been upstairs looking for him. Once we reached the main floor we found one of Todd's other roommates (you know not the kind we pined after, one that was the size of a short bus). I panicked and headed straight for the front door. I did not look back. There was NO WAY I was sticking around to explain to this guy what we were doing there. If he wanted an explanation he was going to have to chase me down and let's face it, I didn't have a Twinkie taped to my a**, there was no way he was moving that fast. When Wyn finally caught up to me, I was half-way back to her house. Apparently, she hesitated just long enough to give this guy some lame explanation about what we were doing in the upper level of a college-owned men's dwelling. She was trying to appear very innocent, but my quick departure from the establishment blew our entire cover.

It must have given this guy the wrong impression because he called Wyn up sometime later and asked her out! OMG, that will be funny until I'm dead!

Day Three: No More Mr. Nice Guy

So, it's official, I'm a crab. A crab with a temper. It's no wonder small children flee from my presence. Day three proved to be as close to my breaking point as I care to get...EVER!

I made a two year-old cry today. Yep, cry. There were two of them wandering the house as I was painting in the main living area. They kept running back and forth putting their grubby little hands every where. Their mothers kept reminding them that they need to stay in the room they were assigned to watch Dora the Explorer or go downstairs to play with the other kids. After what felt like the 68th warning from the parent at hand, I snapped. At the top of my lungs (or very near the top of my lungs), I barked at them (finger-pointing, arm-waving, and all) to get back in that room or go downstairs and stay there! The fair-haired one high-tailed it to the basement and then began waling at what is sure to be one of the most scarring moments of her young life. The dark-haired one just looked at me with this blank stare and then continued on her way obviously unaffected by my temper tantrum. It takes a bit more to rattle that one. I believe I sense a challenge!

It's all fun and games until Tina gets tired...

And Julie the pleasant cruise director was getting warn down. Her upbeat calming attitude exploded into "Get back to work, b*tches!"

Don't get me wrong there were plenty of opportunites for us to laugh at ourselves and one another (mostly one another).

1. Tonia decided she could mimick what she saw her husband do earlier that day. Keep in mind that he is about a foot taller than her and his arms have a wider span. She decided that she'd crawl up on the stairwell and reach across to get down a piece of blue painters tape that had been left behind. I stopped everything I was doing. There was no way I was going to miss this! As she hoisted her body up on the half-wall, the words I'd been yelling all day escaped my lips "Don't touch the walls. I just painted them!". Tammy appeared out of the bathroom to bark at Tonia to get down (she's always ruining all my fun) before she fell and knocked out her two front teeth. Then I chimed in, "Yeah, cuz if you fall and scuff my walls... After I'm done laughing, I'm going to put your two front teeth back in place and then kick them out myself." Tonia pouted and crawled down off the wall.

2. Teresa had a Mom moment - they were in the kitchen surrounded by a spread of kitchen items they had emptied out of the cupboards. The items far outnumbered more than Mom could possibly utilize in this lifetime and the next combined. Teresa, in a moment of weakness, said "I'll just lay it here for now." Oh, no! Not the forbidden phrase. She screamed in terror as she realized what she'd just said! "Quick clean something!" I offerred. "Cook something without burning it." was another tip.. These were the only ways to make certain the Mom demons would flee her very being. We all laughed, she took a deep breath, and dove back in to the pile of kitchen clutter.

In the end, I survived an entire weekend with the crazies. No one got hurt (more than psychologically – sorry, Beth) and we’re so much closer to being finished with Mom’s project (18 rolls of scotch tape, 3 dust pans, and 5 sets of silverware later).

The chaos that is my life continues on and I did my best to thwart off any momentary losses of sanity. What would a weekend be without trying to orchestrate one volleyball tournament, a home show, child care for seven small children, girl scout cookie delivery, church and Sunday school, weekly volunteer bookkeeping, all while successfully executing one Master Disaster Plan?

Day Two: Too Tired to Post

For all of those eagerly awaiting updates on the Master Disaster Plan weekend event, I apologize. I returned home on Saturday simply too tired to post. I hope you accept this belated post as my apology.

Pretend it's Saturday night...

It's been a long day filled with trials and tribulations. The painting helper we were expecting today got sick and couldn't come. My oldest sister was late showing up due to "not feeling well" herself. I say it in quotes because none of us really believes she miraculously recovered from some illness that struck suddenly for about an hour and didn't affect her the rest of the weekend, but whatever. My little sister showed up just before noon in heels and announced she was two hours early. My older sister (the one that made the schedule and may be plagued with her own form of OCD) took the role of cruise director. It was actually quite nice to have someone else there to boss people around. My favorite was the way she had to keep tabs on Mom. It was her job to help Mom purge all the useless crap out of her home (and there was plenty of it!). Watching her try to keep Mom focused on the task at hand offered quite a bit of humor to my day. In all fairness, she lives in the cities and doesn't get to enjoy (have to endure) the craziness on a daily basis.

Favorite quote of the day, "I'm just gonna put it here for now." Mom tried that one and almost sent Teresa over the edge.

We painted until we were all several shades of earth tone brown with a splash of orange and at the end of the day we were all exhausted. Teresa and I (who apparently love punishment) agreed to take Mom to the mall to shop for draperies. Seems like a simple enough task - BUT THE MALL IS AN HOUR AWAY! My favorite part of that endeavor was when I got pulled over ~yeah!

At the end of it all I dragged my butt home to an understanding husband only to pass out and dream about day three.

OMG - I nearly forgot to include my near death experience! So, my mother's living room / dining room has this great cathedral ceiling. After lunch I decided it was time to edge the top of the wall right at the peak. I dragged Jack's over sized grimy extension ladder out of the garage and tried to manhandle it into position. My brother-in-law (the one we lovingly refer to as Kristaturd even though I'm pretty sure he hates it) kindly offered to brace the feet of the ladder while I climbed to the top. After a bit he was satisfied that the ladder would go no where and I didn't need him. And for a while I didn't. After the third move I was climbing up there thinking, "you know, if this ladder fell I would end up flinging this paint container and what a huge mess that would make." So I placed the container on top of a plant shelf. Just as I laid it down my ladder started sliding. It slid about a foot down the wall until there was only about 3 more inches until it was going to let loose from it's perch and crash down in the middle of the kitchen. Luckily I had put another ladder in close proximity and was able to climb onto it in time. I staggered out the garage and informed my mother that if I died in her house I was going to haunt her for sure!

Day One: No One's Dead Yet

So this marks the end of day one in what has been deemed "Master Disaster Plan" weekend (unless we come up with a more suitable name). My sisters and I are all converging at my mother's this weekend to help her paint, purge, and reclaim her house.

Today I gathered with one sister, one niece, and one neighbor. We sorted, cleared, cleaned, and taped a good majority of the rooms in preparation for tomorrow's festivities. After hours of work I'm left wondering where I'm going to find the energy for the two days ahead.

A few highlights from the day (mostly at my baby sister's (Tonia) expense).

She walked in today sporting "Dumb and Dumber" bangs.

That was a real treat! She CLAIMS she sneezed while trying to trim "just a bit off". I don't really care what the real reason is. They're hysterical and now she's stuck having to wait for them to grow back out. I'm betting it will only take my oldest and most critical sister, Tammy, two and a half minutes to comment on it tomorrow.

Then she (Tonia) was telling us about a recent medical issue. Her doctor thought she may have a kidney stone. One CAT scan later and it turns out she's full of sh*t. That's right, crazy backed up! I brought her over one container of colon blow and told her to prepare to spend one entire day at home. I hope she's feeling better soon, but as for now, she's going to be the butt of a lot of jokes!

Oh, I can't wait for what tomorrow will bring. Two entire days cooped up with my family, or those people I like to refer to as "The Crazies". I'm certain it will be very interesting - filled with blog-able material. I'm sure Jack will be happy to have some time off.

Why Does He Insist on Making Me Angry?

Sometimes I feel like it's Jack's job to make me angry. Doesn't he realize it would just be easier to accept that I'm always right? Life could be so much easier!

Today we argued about whether or not he made a noise (as a comment) to something I had said. He was certain he didn't make a noise, I was certain he did. Disagreements aren't a bad thing -until he raises his voice. Seriously?! We have to shout at each other when we disagree? He claims he gets frustrated when I don't believe him. I say, so do I, but I don't shout at him.

Later he insists on frustrating me by holding the remote control hostage. I have one simple request - I want to watch one hour of reality TV. When the time comes for the show to start suddenly he starts flipping the channels to "see what else is on". Seriously?! Is he trying to drive me crazy? I DON'T CARE WHAT ELSE IS ON! Is he unaware that there is such a thing as a TV guide? Does he know it can be accessed on this new-fangled thingy-majig called the internet? Does he know that have I homicidal tendencies when it comes to reality TV?

While I'm ranting about his ability, nay, his need to push my buttons...

When did it become okay to put your blackberry on vibrate, take your wife out for dinner on her birthday eve, and then answer the dumb thing IN THE MIDDLE OF HER SENTENCE? Seriously?!

It's a good thing I love him so much or I would make true on the threat to junk-punch him while he sleeps!