True BLood, Ew Blood!

Yes it's true - I am obsessed with Charlaine Harris's Southern Vampire mystery books, and the HBO series True Blood (which I watched the entire series on DVD in one week - finished last night *sniff*) so, it's not too terribly far of a stretch that when I went to write about my son's dirt bike crash last night, resulting in every bendable part of his body covered in B L double O D - that I thought of vampires... right?  Ha.   And no, I did not consider licking his wounds. 

I have to admit though, that the most unnerving part of this whole story I'm about to tell is not the fact that Charlie crashed, was hurt, crying and bleeding.  Nope.  It was that he was delivered to our doorstep by a random man driving a VAN.  I repeat - a grown man (stranger danger) driving a van - did it even have windows?  OMG!     

We took the kids over to our new house yesterday so they could ride and test out yet another dirt bike, as our oldest son is outgrowing his.  We headed over in kind of a hurry, kids in shorts - but they were at least wearing boots, so I figured all was good.  They also wear helmets and chest gear and all that too fyi.  Anyway, a farmer was planting stuff in the field, so they had to stick to our long gravel driveway and another private drive (gravel) that extends back about a mile or so. Ben rode with them for a while and then headed back to the house while they drove back and forth a few more times.  We have a rule that if one of them breaks down, runs out of gas, gets stuck etc - they park and wait while the other boy drives back to fetch help.   Ben and I were standing on our deck discussing yard options when Ben mentions to me "Gee, they've been gone kind of a long time...  if something happened, the other would come get us, right?" Before I could answer, I spied Will walking through the house towards us... followed by a strange MAN and a crying and injured Charlie.  What the....?  I didn't really listen to the guy as I whisked Charlie away to the bathroom (thank goodness I grabbed first aid stuff on the way out!!!).   However, as we hustled through the house towards the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of the man slowly driving away in his van.  Agh!

**SPOILER ALERT: Before I continue, let me just say Charlie is FINE (settle Grandma).   After a healthy dose of antibiotic spray, a few glops of ointment and an entire box of band-aids, Charlie was pretty much good to go.**

Back to the story...

So, it turns out this guy is a website developer.  He was back on the lane taking pictures of the tractor in the field (which was planting popcorn, how cool is that) for this website www.kandkpopcorn.com (pretty cool, check it out).  While he was standing there minding his own business, our kid comes driving up like Evil Kinevil and dramatically dumps his bike in the gravel.  Then he sees the other kid up and take off on his own bike, leaving a screaming and bleeding Evil in the dust, limping alone down the road.  Of course when I heard this version of the story, I went from being creeped out to grateful.   Whew!  The guy admitted that he thought twice about it before offering Charlie a ride (in the dreaded van),  but since Charlie obviously needed medical attention - he couldn't just leave him there.   Sad really when you think about it.

So this brings me to my last point of the story. VANS.  No matter what the size, shape or color, vans have gotten a bad rap.  When thinking of the type of person who drives a van, I usually come to one of three conclusion, none of them good: 1.  the soccer/hockey/baseball/whatever mom who drives the vehicle out of pure practicality while wishing they were driving anything BUT a van (that's me) 2. Libyan terrorists (think Back to the Future) and finally 3. THE MURDERER/KIDNAPPER/CHILD MOLESTER.  Jeez.   This is why the following clip made both Ben and I burst out laughing when we saw it on TV.  Not only because this is our EXACT vehicle, but it hilariously tackles the van stigma.



 After rewinding, viewing and laughing about three more times, Ben looked at me and said "whoever came up with the marketing for that is a genius".   I couldn't agree more!  In fact, as I gaze out the window at my pimped-out Honda Odyssey, I see it in a whole new light.   Well, okay that might be a stretch - but at least I'm gazing ... instead of glaring.

RESPECT THE VAN.

Like Father Like Son

Ben 1976

Jacob 2009

We don't call him 'Dennis' for nothing

As I wrote my last post about the approaching close of the school year and wondering what else I had to blog about, it only took five minutes of vacuuming to figure it out.  I am seriously mentally and a tiny bit physically exhausted after trying to do just a little housework around here.  It's not because I have all that much cleaning to do, or that it's even that terribly messy around here.  It's because of this two-year-old TYRANT I have here whose sole purpose in life is to oppose every productive thing I set out to do.  Hence my vacuuming problems.  It would be plenty enough to listen to him forcefully demand 'TOP PEAS!!!!' (stop please) over and over and over at the top of his lungs while he's following me around.  Hey, at least he has manners while he's bossing.  Add the occasional stamping of the feet I can handle, but add in the messing around with the vacuuming controls, unplugging it when I'm not looking, and my favorite - playing TUG OF WAR with the cord (while continually yelling for me to TOP!!!!!) makes it virtually impossible (or at least intolerable) to really get anything done.  

I found myself wondering earlier this evening what kind of monster we are creating in our youngest child.  I often tell my friends that he does things my other kids wouldn't DREAM of. He can be on top of the counter adjusting the light fixtures in two seconds flat.  He's also figured out every child-proofing door handle, moves furniture to scale the gates and is houdini-like when it comes to undressing himself (diaper included) in the blink of an eye.  The other day I came out of the bathroom and he was straddling a watermelon NAKED on the porch.  Yep. Last night when I put him to bed, he was yelling down 'DEWDIVER MOMMY' (over and over - you get that part right? everything is over and over and over and OVER!) Anyway, I looked at Ben and said 'Um, he wants a screwdriver'.  We kind of laughed and I headed up to see what in the world he thought he needed a screwdriver for at 9pm in the dark in his crib.  Well I should have known.  His Twighlight Turtle was not functioning properly!  It was only lighting yellow - the blue and red options seemed to have crapped out on him, so he had removed the back cover and logically need a screwdriver to 'fit' (fix) it.   Of course!

It's come to the point where we are all so used to him marching over to wherever we are sitting and blaring 'MY POT!!!!', and we just instinctively move to the next chair - freeing up 'his spot' - to avoid the meltdown.  It's just easier in the end isn't it?   It's up for grabs.  

One day left...

Of school, that is.  I'm usually so ready for the kids to be done with school by the time May rolls around.  Ready to be done with strict bedtimes, early mornings, homework and spelling tests.  So, how come it's almost the end of May and I'm so NOT READY?  I'm counting the hours in my head until their final dismissal at 11:45 am tomorrow and thinking OMG! Just this morning Will asked me "Mom, when we are done with school, what are we gonna DO?"  I just shrugged because I really have no idea!!!  I think what makes it worse is the fact that we are moving mid-summer. If I sign them up for programs near THIS house, I'll end up carting them all over heck for the second half of the summer, and vice-versa.  So, the only real solution is to not sign them up for anything... ANYTHING!  yikes.  

What a weekend.

I'm actually relieved Memorial Day weekend is coming to a close today.  Can I just say this... WHEW!  As I sit here with a freshly poured glass of chardonnay and reflect over the past week, I have to giggle.  *sidenote* I wrote most of this last night - so I am most certainly NOT having a glass of wine at 9:30 am!!!! :-)

Okay, where to start.  As you may recall, we had a big party for our son's 9th birthday on Saturday (which was SUPPOSED to be a housewarming party at the new house... but nevermind that) -anyway, we invited a lot of people, which of course meant lots of preparation. All was going well until Ben somehow got his weekends mixed up and booked himself on a business trip from Tuesday until Friday (remember - party on Saturday).  YUP.    I will say he felt really bad about it, but that just didn't make it any better.  I spent most of the week fretting and freaking about how I was going to get all the shopping, cleaning, cooking and prepping done by myself while taking care of three kids at the same time.  With a lot of insanely organized lists and a little help from a babysitter, I somehow did it!  Yay!  And aside from the hour of rain we had during the middle of the party, everything somehow went great.  However, even with all the carefully prepared food, cakes and festive atmosphere, the biggest hit of this party was.... drumroll........ *loud cymbal crashing*  THE CAPRICE.    What is the "Caprice" you might ask?

Here's your first glance:

The 'Caprice' happens to be an old bomb of a car that Ben bought from a coworker several years ago for a hundred bucks.  This guy was driving this beast of a vehicle 50 miles each way to commute to work.  One day he woke up and realized this was an inefficient commuter (actually I think his wife did) and decided he needed to unload it.  Really?  Considering it came with a full tank of gas, at that price Ben just couldn't pass it up.  Now I know what you're thinking - why would Ben want or need this car?  And this is when I'd remind you of how we have a lot of 'stuff' that I just can't explain.... this is one of those things. 

One of my first memories of riding in the Caprice is when we all loaded up (including Ben's parents) for a simple drive down the road.  We happened to mention to Ben's mother that the owner of a very large phone book company had a 'castle-like' house with a moat (yes a moat) just down the way about a mile from our house.  Ben's mom (who is in real estate) was dying of curiosity, and against my LOUD objections... we drove over to check it out.  Needless to say, that was also the last time I rode in the Caprice on a public road - since it DIED in the mansion's driveway!!!!  

After it was decided the Caprice was not fit for reliable transportation, the only logical progression was to turn it into an amusement machine.  Ben and his buddies on several occasions have had a lot of laughs and fun driving this thing Dukes of Hazard style all over our property.  Even I have to admit that whipping donuts and beating this car is pretty damn hilarious (and fun!) LOL.  

Two years ago at Charlie's 5th birthday party, someone had the bright idea to break out the Caprice.  Yes, mid-day at a family afternoon gathering.  I wasn't so sure.  I must note, Ben has a huge family with a lot of super fun people (and no, they're not taxidermists, junk-yard dealers or monster truck drivers) who are game for anything  - so of course they all thought it was a great idea.  After the first ride.... A LEGEND WAS BORN.   Ben found some old ridiculous ski goggles which quickly became the required driving attire, and everyone took their turn at being Bo Duke for a few minutes.   (note the goggles)

This year, all everyone could talk about while gearing up for our party was the 'Caprice'.  Those who couldn't make it, sent notes of regret about missing Will's birthday.... AND THE CAPRICE. People even voiced concerns about having proper riding terrain when we move to our new place!  (Don't worry folks, we've got plenty of room.)  Once again, the Caprice didn't disappoint. Big belly laughs from along the fence-line and terrified yet exhilarated screams from inside the car were heard for a good hour.  One of the many memorable moments was when Ben's (physical therapist) cousin worked his way from cautious circle-driver to experienced donut-making machine while his (pediatric nurse practitioner) wife stood cheering on the sidelines, highly impressed with his duke-like maneuvering abilities.  Did he get airborn?  Oh wait, I think that was Chris...

Here's a pic of me exiting the passenger side of the vehicle.  While it is very Hazard county-esque, I'm mostly doing it because the door is stuck shut.

This morning after bringing Jacob down to our room at 6am, trying to get him to go back to sleep with us (right), Ben was trying to decifer another string of his babbling.  He got all the words figured out except for one.  Jacob kept saying 'Peace'  while Ben guessed, 'please' 'police' 'piece'... duh, wasn't it obvious Dad???  'CAPRICE'!!!  Ben asked Jacob, "Caprice"?  Jacob's answer 'UH HUH' with a big nod.  Oh boy!

Happy Birthday Will!

Nine years old today....  wow time flies.

It only makes sense

I really don't know why I was shocked yesterday afternoon as I went to load up the back of my van with my grocery purchases to find an ANT COLONY living in the trunk area.  I instinctively shot my head about two feet closer to analyze the moving dots to confirm they were indeed ants... yes, ANTS living in MY VEHICLE.  What?  

While i was cleaning, scrubbing and vacuuming my vehicle out this morning, going over every inch with a fine-toothed comb, I formed an answer to my 'what?' question.  Or rather, answered the question with another question:  Why WOULDN'T an ant want to live in our van?!   Our van has everything another living organism could ever need or want - dirt, grass, crumbs, half drank water bottles, old french fries, video games, movies and so much more!   I mean, I knew the back was untidy and had things that needed to be thrown out - after all, they're boys!  But, I guess I really need to venture into the 'abyss' of the vehicle a little more often to keep a handle on the situation.  During the process of folding the seats up, down, back and every direction that I didn't even know they could go - I found all kinds of remnants from the previous six months of happy meals and snacks, including an empty ketchup packet!!!!  Yuck!  Yes, I am officially grossed out.  

I must also mention, as I was tossing all the lego pieces, shirts, crayons, crumbs, etc out of the back of the vehicle onto the driveway, Jake was promptly retrieving and hauling each item (including a quilt) over behind the house and throwing it all in his baby pool.  AWESOME.  It never ends!!!

Color Confusion

Whew!  Back from the out-of-town Birthday weekend, and on to prepping for our own birthday/moving extravaganza this weekend.  When I originally planned this party, it was SUPPOSED to be at our new house.   Our conservatively estimated completion date of MAY 1 has come and gone, and at this rate we'll be lucky to be in the new house by the end of June.  Gee what a shocker - why did I actually believe my builder (and ignore all my friend's contrary logic) that he'd be the first builder in the history of mankind to finish up the project when he said he would?!  grrrr.  And to make matters worse, we sold our current house in ONE DAY.  I know, I know, it's a good problem to have, but if I end up having to move in to an apartment for even a single day because our house isn't done, it's ain't gonna be pretty!!!!  

So that brings me to my next problem. COLOR.  I hate color.  At least I hate picking it out.  It took me months to pick out just the right shades of BROWN for each room.  While I technically do enjoy color, I am terrible at picking it out.  Since our rooms are quite large over at the new pad, a bad color could really screw stuff up.  Sooooo I played it safe.  Here's the scary part.  I went out on a limb and picked out a multi-colored (sort of) glass decorative tile in our bathroom (see the pic below).  I picked this tile and the designer dude there matched up my floor tile and grout and the kitchen and bath peeps basically picked the counters for me.  I was feeling good about it all when I left.   Here's the tile samples:

And here it is installed in our shower, I like it.  Definitely different, but it does look very pretty - much prettier than the picture shows

Fast forward to yesterday.  I got my first peek of the installed bathroom counters and I'm officially beyond nervous.  (I'm going over there today, so I'll post a picture.)  I love the counters, but the strip of glass tile that will be going above it has me slightly cringing at the potential busy-ness.  yikes!

I'm hoping it's just because the counter looks so HUGE to me in comparison to the 3x3 inch chunk I've been toting around for the past months, or maybe it's because the walls are currently brightly primed white with no trim or lighting or door fixtures yet in sight.  *sigh*  Ben tells me to quit worrying about it.  So, I guess I'll just keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best!  

Supersonic Black Hole

Why do I feel like I'm the ONLY person around here who is able to find stuff?  Either I've got some kind of supersonic locating ability and super-stealth vision, or everyone else around here is blind, forgetful or maybe just lazy.   Huh.  It's a toss up.   If I had a penny for every time Ben asked me where something was while practically staring right at it,  I'd be rich 10 times over by now.  Instead, I repeat this sequence: march over, retrieve the item effortlessly from under his nose and present it to him with a big eye-roll.  This morning when Ben accused me of moving his phone charger, I skipped all the rest and went straight to the eye rolling, as I had no idea where the charger was.  The conversation went something like this - 

Ben: "Where is my phone charger?  Where did you move my charger?  I placed it right HERE (finger pointing to countertop) before I left yesterday".  

Nikki: "I have no idea.  I am 100% sure it wasn't there yesterday, and I didn't touch it."  

Ben: "Well I'm 100% positive that it was RIGHT HERE" (again with the pointing).  

You get the idea.  We all start searching around...  no phone charger anywhere.   We were stumped.  10 minutes later, Ben victoriously emerges from the hall closet with his COMPUTER charger in hand, shooting a smug "i told you so" glare in my direction.  Wait a minute.  I thought we were looking for a PHONE charger.  Yeah.  He of course "100%" denies that he ever said 'phone' charger..  uh huh... even Will chimed in saying "Yeah Dad, I heard you say "phone" charger while I was in brushing my teeth".  (High five Will!)  

Of course, had he originally asked me where the "computer" charger was, I would have promptly marched over and retrieved it from the place I put it - the hall closet!  

it's a boat, it's a plane... no wait - that's Charlie driving a lawnmower slash CLOWN CAR.

OK. Seeing this picture reminds me of when Ben first purchased this little beauty (aka the CAB that sits on top of this lovely mower)... which I'm going to have to dig through and post that baby up here. I think it might be one of the top ten hardest laughs I've ever had in my life. Ben - crammed inside of this redneck clown car mower is forever burned into my brain.

Now... before you freak out - this 'mower' doesn't even have a mower on it and it goes like point 2 miles per hour. It's more like a Jr. tractor. Why do we have it you might ask? (I too find myself asking that about a lot of the items we have around here...) and to be honest, I just don't have a good answer for you. I CAN tell you that we have held on to the cab out of sheer comedy. Check this out - it gets better:




YEP. I just don't even know what to say. YES I DO REALIZE THIS IS FREAKIN' RIDICULOUS!!!!! But I guess that is part of what makes it so hilarious. I must say, the kids could not get enough of this set-up. They even parked their atvs to fight over driving this - and Jacob was happy as a clam getting towed around in the wagon for hours. I'm just still trying to figure out which part of this photo is the funniest, and I can't!

A salad's a salad... right?

Good lord.  Does it really have to be this difficult to decide what kind of salad to bring to a birthday party?  Part of the problem of being thought of as a good cook is living up to the expectations of people who have eaten your creations before - and raved about them.  They compliment you, talk about it amongst themselves, tell their family - and before you know it, you've got the nickname "Martha".    It's something like the sequel to a good movie.  Can part 2 ever live up to the original?   So here I sit, thumbing through this stupid cookbook for the 29th time... trying to pick a dumb SALAD (a dumb PERFECT salad) to bring to a one-year old's birthday party.  Am I nuts?  Hmmm nuts would be good in the salad.     

Tah Oh Nah.

Translation: Chocolate Milk. Obvious, right? It is if you live at my house! Deciphering the statements (or shall I say DEMANDS) of our 2 year old has become second nature to our entire family. I had to laugh this morning when Charlie (6) asked for some 'tah oh nah' at breakfast. I wish the funniness could over-rule the frustration when he says 'sah-ee' (sorry) after deliberately tipping the stool over into the wall and chipping the paint and denting the trim in the process.... all with a smirk on his face... Ugh! Terrible twos have definitely hit us - and we're only one month in! I never had to worry with my older two boys that if I turned around for 30 seconds that I might find a completely undressed person - diaper in hand.... What?!

So, I'm practicing deep breaths today. I didn't even break a sweat when he threw his entire bowl of cereal and milk upside down on the floor this morning. Or when he took a big drink of his tah-oh-nah and then opened his mouth big... and just let it run all over himself. (the stool incident was this morning as well) - it's not even 10:00 am!