Except that there is!  Or there was. 

  Nevie and her friend Sabrina were eating popsicles under the tree in the yard.  And then UP WALKS A BEAR.  No punchline, that's it.  And here he is.  Or she.  I did not stop to ask about its personal life.

  I did not believe her when she came in, even though she was crying.  When I saw for myself, I immediately grabbed the camera because I thought no one would believe me otherwise.  This was the only one not blurry from my shaking hands.

  I gotta get out of this town...

Overheard...

GENEVIEVE:  Oh no!  I got a grass stain on my pants!

MAKENZIE:  It's OK, Nevie, Mom can just steam it out in her new washer.

Thanks a lot, Whim, now my work will never get done!

Scene: Giovanni sitting on my lap at Nevie's graduation.  He grabbed my hand and started doing "Piggies", with just the right sing-song rhythm...

"This little piggy go Target."

"This little piggy go Target."

"This little piggy go Target."

"This little piggy go Target."

"And this little piggy go WEE  WEE WEE WEE...all the way home."

 "Mommy, we go Target now?"

(Must be those Target Dog cookies...)

Here is a screenshot of an IM I had with Brett:

How much do I love that kid right now?!

  Giovanni informed me on Sunday that he was going to wear big boy underwear.  This is because he heard me tell Lamar that Logan, our nephew, is wearing underwear.  Van is totally fascinated with Logan.  Logan is totally fascinated with Malakai.  That does not phase Van in his affections for "my fend Wogan." 

  Kenz was barely two when she wanted to go on the potty.  I held her off until Genevieve was born because I had heard she might regress, and I did not want to deal with it.  She wore pull ups successfully for a couple days, switched to panties and never went back.  So I thought that was how they would all be.  WRONG. 

  I decided it was time for Nevie to be potty trained when she started to close in on her third birthday.  She had other ideas.  She had been pooping on the potty for several weeks so I assumed that the pee was a matter of will.  WRONG.  I bribed her, threatened her, rewarded her, praised her, promised her...no luck.  She was closing in on her fourth birthday by the time it clicked for her.  She decided it was time, put on panties and never looked back.

  After being mad at Nevie for like 6 months, I realized that I could not make her do it.  So I waited for Malakai to decide and then followed his lead.  He was also closing in on his fourth birthday when it clicked for him.  It helped when he figured out he could pee in the yard.  This backfired when he thought the playground at school was the same as the yard at home.  Oops.

  Giovanni is two and a half.  He has had two days in pull-ups so far.  The first day he wet it once.  We did a bunch of running around in the morning and he managed to hold it when he needed to, and tell us when it was time.  Later in the evening, he was outside playing, and we were not reminding him at all...hence the pee in the pull-up.  To be honest, I thought he would lose interest so I was not putting my heart into it.  The next day, he was dry ALL day.  And he pooped in the potty.  That means that yesterday I did not change one diaper.  That is the first time (aside from my annual three days a year away from my kids) that has happened in eight and a half years!  WOW! 

  I had told him that if he stayed dry for a whole day, he would get a scoop of ice cream after dinner and would be able to wear big boy underwear the next day.  He had ice cream last night.  I tried to put a pull-up on him for drop off at school this morning, but he reminded me what I had said, and a deal's a deal, so he wore big boy underwear when we took the girls to school this morning.  I did have to change them once because he waited too long, but since reminding him that boys who have no accidents get ice cream, he has been successful.

  Next week I am going to tell him that Logan makes his own bed every day...

  I am currently in my house with four boys under the age of five.  I think I might be a crazy person.  Or maybe I will be by the end of the day.  Nevie has her field trip today to the Seattle Children's Theater to see Busytown.  She is very excited because she gets to wear chapel clothes and ride on the bus and eat a sack lunch.  Rather than drag my two boys along, I traded a kid with another mom in the class.  So she has my Nevie and I have her 4 year old who is friends with Malakai.  Add to that the fact that another friend had to go out of town for some family stuff and needed me to watch her four year old today. 

  I picked up Noah before school this morning and had the "come-to-Jesus" talk with him and Malakai before we even picked up Gage.  I am totally the mean mom of the bunch.  But I think that is because I have four kids, and the other moms have two.  If two kids gang up on you, you could totally take them.  But if you have a mutiny with four kids, you had better watch out.  So I decided to start out tough so that I can let out the reins as the day goes on.  I told all four of them on the way back to our house from school that ANYONE WHO STARTS A FIGHT WILL GET AN IMMEDIATE FIVE MINUTE TIME-OUT at the kitchen table while the other two play without the instigator.  (This is where the baby monitor in the bonus room comes in handy.) 

  Noah and Malakai got a time out before we even got to the van in the school parking lot.  There have been four more so far.  We are less than two hours into the day.  Might not get to let those reins out after all.

  Last week I had to hit the grocery store for milk.  After school drop-off.  Before school pick-up.  Before swim lessons.  Crap...I am buying milk before swim lessons.  I am more than slightly paranoid about my food spoiling.  My biggest fears come with things like chicken and mayonnaise.  But milk...how long can it sit in a car on a cloudy 75 degree day? 

  So I had a great idea...I would ask for paper, then when I got it to my car, I could crumple the top down and it would be like a little cooler and I could let my mind obsess about other things while I watched two of my kids learn to swim, and the other one yell at the teacher.  (But that is a blog for a different day.)

  Turns out when you ask for paper bags instead of the evil polar bear-killing plastic bags, you are not supposed to want all your stuff actually bagged.  The checker at Top asked me if I wanted a bag for my cereal.  Granted, they were the big honkin' store brand bags of cereal, but still.  Like I am supposed to just grab an armful of canned goods and bananas and toss it in the back of the van.  I totally wimped out and was all...Uh, no, I don't need a bag for those.  I would not want to KILL THE EARTH BY BAGGING MY GROCERIES.  And then I saw the milk heading down the conveyor belt.  Oh crap!  They are so not gonna want to bag that for me.  I considered letting them talk me out of a bag for the milk. I could always take some stuff out of a bag when I got to the car and then put my milk in that bag.  That would be inconvenient but do-able.  Then I thought...

  Screw the earth.  I gotta keep my milk cold.

  My baby is sick.  I know, he is too old for me to call my baby.  Shut up and stop judging me.  I still refer to my 28 year old brother as my baby brother, so I guess old habits die hard.  Anyway, my baby is sick.  We woke up in the wee hours this morning to Malakai yelling "DAD!DAD!DAD!DAD!DAAAADDDD!!!!"  There was barf everywhere in Giovanni's crib. (OK, again, stop judging.  Moving the boys into their new bunk beds was literally on this weekend's agenda.)  So...barf in the crib.  Lamar has the higher barf tolerance, so he stripped Van down and changed his jammies while I changed the sheets.  I tried to rinse the barf off into the laundry sink, but was too busy dry-heaving to make much progress.  Lamar finished getting the worst of it off and then I put them in the washer.  Incidentally, I used the steam cycle on my new washer, which is good for removing "organic stains." 

  The boys got settled back into their beds, with a Veggie Tales CD playing, quilts surrounding the crib in case of a projectile vomit, and the "barf bowl" in the bed with Giovanni.  We told him...If you have any more barf, get it in the bowl like a big boy.  He barfed two more times in the next hour, and to my shock, both times it was ALL in the bowl.  No jammie change even needed!  He spent most of today in his bed with the portable DVD player.  That was mostly his choice.  It worked out well for us because we were able to get all traces of food cleaned up before he came downstairs. 

  So now we are about 20 hours past the last puke and he seems to be over the worst.  He is having other gastrointestinal issues, so whatever he eats goes right through him.  But I hate nasty diapers less than I hate barf, so I am thanking God for that small mercy. 

  Tonight we will place a barf bowl near each kid, just to be on the safe side!

Scene:  The six of us around the dinner table, talking about who is so-and-so's dad and who is so-and-so's mom .

ME:  Hey, Van, who is Logan's mommy? 

GIOVANNI:  Auntie Shannon.

ME:  That is right!  Who is my mommy?

GIOVANNI:  Ummmmm....Meemaw!

ME:  Right again!  Who is my daddy? 

GIOVANNI:  DADDY! (pointing at Lamar)

ME:  Oh, is he my sugar daddy?

GIOVANNI:  No, he you yogurt daddy!

   I think I need a 12 step program.  Seriously.  I cannot stop making cupcakes.  It starts innocently enough, trying to make a really good cupcake.  But then the challenge is gone.  So I started to think (obsess, really) about making a filled cupcake.  So I made not one, but FIVE different kinds!  In the last 3 days.  I cannot give them away fast enough.  I gotta find a way to sell them so that I seem less crazy. 

Friday was sour cream cake with lemon curd filling and vanilla buttercream frosting, and vanilla cake with Mexican chocolate pudding filling and chocolate buttercream frosting.

Saturday was vanilla cake with pineapple filling and vanilla whipped cream frosting AND fresh strawberry cake with strawberry whipped cream filling and strawberry cream cheese frosting.

Today I made chocolate with vanilla custard filling and chocolate whipped cream frosting.

See, I told you.

  That is how much I love my new washer and dryer!!!!  I had no idea how much time I was wasting on laundry until I got them.  I have not had to wait for my clothes to dry when the washer is already done.  I have not had to check to see if the clothes in the dryer were all the way dry.  I have not had to restart the dryer to finish them up.  I have been able to cram two loads worth into one load.  I have not had to decide if I am doing a small, medium, or extra large load.  I even sanitized my sheets!  Plus, when I think no one is watching, it provides a little entertainment!

BUSTED!

  We are on Spring Break right now.  Five days after Easter.  Eight days into spring.  Eleven days after St. Patrick's Day.  And yet, here is the "special weather advisory" for Woodinville today:

SNOW ADVISORY NOW IN EFFECT UNTIL 5 AM PDT SATURDAY...
THE SNOW ADVISORY IS NOW IN EFFECT UNTIL 5 AM PDT SATURDAY.
A MIX OF RAIN AND SNOW WILL OCCUR THIS MORNING... THEN TAPER OFF TO SHOWERS THIS AFTERNOON. SNOWFALL ACCUMULATIONS OF UP TO 1 INCH ARE EXPECTED TODAY ON HILLS ABOVE 500 FEET. THIS EVENING... A PUGET SOUND CONVERGENCE ZONE COULD DEVELOP. THIS COULD BRING AN ADDITIONAL 1 TO 3 INCHES OF SNOW TONIGHT.

  End of March, you got a lot of guts threatening this sort of thing.  And I am totally taking it personally.  Especially since historically "convergence zone" actually means "where the Damatas live".  This is a picture from last year, same week.  You will notice that the sun is shining and no one is wearing any snow gear.

  If we get any amount of accumulation, consider this my suicide note.  And it will be all Lamar's fault.  Just so you know.

  A family of six can generate a lot of laundry.  Not just the clothing, which includes at a minimum a pair of pants, a shirt, a pair of socks, underwear, and jammies.  Per person.  Per day.  Add to that the wardrobe changes my 4 year old makes, which I am never fast enough to catch him doing.  And I swear it is impossible for my girls to wear a hoodie without getting the sleeves all gross.  My friends will all tell you I am a laundry fanatic as it is.  I want it to smell like fabric softener, and have not one tiny stain on it.  I have been known to wash a piece of clothing repeatedly until the stain is gone.  Even in "play clothes".  Then there are the linens that go along with the house.  Towels X 6, sheets X 6, and I only like to use a dish towel and dish rag once.   We are nowhere near the Duggars, or even the Gosselins.  But I do feel like I spend a lot of time dealing with laundry. 

  Lamar bought me the biggest capacity washer and dryer that Whirlpool makes.  He is a good man.  I never imagined that I would get so excited about a major home appliance, but here I am, memorizing the brochure, imagining what I can do with all the time I am going to save, counting down the days until delivery...I need to get out more.  Maybe I will have time once I get my new babies...

 

  

...because this was me last night.  Right down to the bald head from pulling out my hair.
I'm just sayin'...

  In the middle of January, Makenzie was opening the blinds in her room and they fell down.  Onto her head.  She freaked out.  Like FREAKED. OUT.  A few hours later we were at the pediatricians office and we left with her head taped and glued.  (As a side note, the doctor said that tape and glue is the preferred method for closing wounds that are not under any tension.  Plus, no train track scars.)  It was totally minor...like 3/4 inch long right on her hairline.  The tape and glue are all gone and the pinkness of the wound is already fading.  This was our first trip to the doctor for anything remotely close to an emergency.  Considering she is the oldest of four and just turned eight, I thought we were doing pretty good.

  Fast forward to this Tuesday.  I was upstairs doing laundry.  Because I am always upstairs doing laundry.  I heard the kind of cry that told me something was really wrong, way beyond toy thievery.  I was running downstairs with the words "You're okay" already forming on my lips, only to be interrupted by a bigger cry from Nevie..."MOM, GIOVANNI'S HEAD IS BLEEEEEDIIIIIING!"  Within an hour, we were at the doctor's office again, getting glued together again.  When the pediatrician walked in, he said "Good Lord, woman, what are you doing in here again?"  Clearly, with four kids, we have become friendly and he was just teasing, so I am not worried about a visit from CPS.  But Giovanni was a total rock star.  He did not even cry when they were scrubbing his wound, which frankly made me a little gaggy.

  His gash is a little over an inch, and thankfully not all the way to the bone.  If you ask him how he got hurt, he will tell you "copy tay-bow".  Still not exactly sure how he did it, but I have some theories.  The only thing I am sure of is the coffee table was involved.   

  In between those two visits, Nevie was in for a weird rash.  At least that did not need glue or tape.  Although, they did recommend covering the little sores with tiny bits of duct tape...

 
Giovanni in simpler times, next to the coffee table in question.

  All my friends love my cupcakes.  I went from a using a boxed mix with cute decorations to using the Magnolia Bakery recipe with cute decorations.  And I started making old school shortbread cookies with royal icing...also cute, of course.  They are so addictive that I have been accused of putting crack in them.  They are called crack-cakes and crack-ies now. 

  I want to be like 8 pounds lighter than I am today.  I was there last summer, in all my bikini glory!  But I have let the carbs creep back in, so the pounds have crept back in.  I lowered my carbs again and even bought a treadmill.  Too bad you have to actually use the treadmill not just buy it.  (I tend to agree with my brother who says you should only run if bees are chasing you.)  I am trying to make it a habit, but so far...that is a negative, Ghost Rider.  

  I am just going to bake a crapload of stuff and keep it on hand.  Stash some in the back of my van, keep some at my house, maybe even leave some on a porch or two.  My friends will have no choice but to eat the little carb-bombs, forcing them to gain the weight I wish I could lose without work.  If all my friends were 8 pounds heavier, I might seem 8 pounds lighter by comparison...

Scene:  Me doing girly style push-ups  on the floor.

MALAKAI:  Mom, what you doing?

ME:  Push-ups, baby.

MALAKAI:  Why?

ME:  So I can be stronger.

MALAKAI:  Why you legs up?

ME:  Because that is the only way that Mommy can do them right now.

MALAKAI:  That's not how Peepaw does it.  You legs need be down.  You not strong.

  My friend Kim tagged me.  I am a total newbie to blogging, so I had search the interwebs to find out what to do next.  As far as I can tell, I think it is like "Coffee Talk"...she gives me a topic and I discuss.  The assignment is to “blog about five things in my life that I never dreamed, when I was 25, would be in my life now."  So here it goes...please don't make fun of me.

1.  Four kids and lovin' it - When I was 25, I was pregnant with Kenz.  Little did I know how that would change my life!  I tell anyone who will listen that "kids will totally wreck your life."  They always think I am joking, and I mostly am, but they really sorta do.  Funny thing is, the life I had before them is not nearly as fulfilling as my life now.  I joke a lot about it, but - truth be told - I love being a mom to my four little crazies.

2.  Here I am, still in Seattle - When we got married, Lamar was still going to UW.  I always just assumed that there would be a job for him in San Diego and we could move back home.  He was working for Microsoft even back then, but I at least held out some hope that we would get back to SoCal someday.  I have all but given up on that.

3.  The infamous ghetto Chryser - I was driving a lifted Toyota 4Runner. Sweet, I know!  Now I drive the ultimate mom car.  As much as I love it now, I guarantee you that I said I would never drive a minivan...and probably when I was 25.  I am still sometimes surprised when I get out of it and see what I was driving!

4.  A laptop in my kitchen - Lamar actually told me this would happen.  But I told him no way.  I use it to check my email non-stop, catch up on the Britney gossip, blog, IM with my friends, and stalk people I do not know on MySpace.  And occasionally I pull a recipe off Allrecipes, too.

5.  The pressure is off - I feel like turning 30 was a nice transition in my life.  When I was 25, I thought 30 would hurt to hit.  Turns out, I care less what people think about me, I am happier with my physical self, I am capable of more than I thought I was, and I feel less like I have to measure up to some imagined set of standards.  I have the best marriage I could want, four kids that I adore, a wonderful bunch of real, bail-you-out-of-jail kind of friends, a great little church family...what more could a girl want???

  There it is...not much of a revelation, no big surprises, nothing scandalous.  Too bad I do not have five blogger friends to tag! Brett, have you been tagged by Kim already?   Robert, looks like you are it, my friend!

  How can every day be so much the same and so completely new at the same time?  There are a lot of things I do every day...like cook meals and wash faces and fold clothes.  And there are things that I do nearly every day...like vacuum the floors and clean the powder room and carpool.  That does not even include the things that I must do every day...change diapers and take out the trash and do the dishes...or that I want to do every day...blog, sew, finish a cup of coffee before it gets cold!  Some days my life feels like Groundhog Day.  The only thing that makes the script different from day to day is that the kids like to mess with me and throw me a curve ball just when I think I know what to expect.  One day they will only eat chicken nuggets, the next they have never hated chicken nuggets more.  "I love macaroni and cheese...I mean I hate it!"  I swear they do it on purpose! 

  I feel like I have to keep a pretty brisk pace just to hold my ground.  Because if I don't, the treadmill of life is just waiting to fling me off and make me look like a fool!