If your husband travels to Arizona on business, life in your (seemingly) normal house will quickly take a turn for the worse.

You'll take a night off from cooking and will order pizza for the brood, including a gluten free pie for yourself. The 'pizza man' will be greeted as such and by the looks of his face, you can tell he doesn't appreciate his given nickname. Whatever. You think that 5 hungry boys shouting "pizza man, PIZZA MAN!" is cute. You smile, hand him his tip, and send the pizza man on his merry way.

Eating burnt gluten free pizza will make you think of wine, and you'll pour yourself a glass. Singed food all food goes down easier with wine.

The boys dive right in, and for a moment, all is well. Just when you begin to think that life with 5 boys (and a traveling husband) is too easy, you're proven wrong (faster than a freight train).

Your child who has had unexplained hives for 3 days begins to swell like a puffer fish. His skin turns bright red and tears ensue. He tells you his body 'feels like one giant bee sting' and before you know it, you're calling his Dr.

Calling his Dr. after hours will prompt the answering service to inform you that you will be "referred to Children's hospital for a fee of $8.00." You politely remind her that in the good old days, doctors took turns being 'on-call' and you'd like to speak to the 'on-call' doctor. QUICK LIKE. Her memory is miraculously refreshed and she allows you to leave a message for the 'on-call' Dr.

Waiting for the doctor to call you back will seem like hours and your child will grow puffier by the minute.

Forecasting a trip to the ER in the near future, you cork the wine bottle .  Corking the wine bottle while your husband is traveling is definitely not something you're comfortable with.

The phone will ring, and the unrecognizable number on the screen makes you leap to the counter with joy. What seemed like hours was only 17.3 minutes. The DR. listens to you rant, and asks that you double up on the steroids given 3 days ago. "The same steroids that make my child act like the exorcist?" you ask. "Yes ma'am." he replies. "Those steroids." It takes everything you've got, but you oblige and give your sweet boy the steroids. He won't be sweet for long.

Realizing you don't have much time before your child medicinally changes into the Hulk, you march the troops upstairs. Being the cool mom that you are, you invite them to sleep in your room. They think you're just doing it to be nice and they take you up on your offer. You know the real reason behind the master bedroom invite is to create more of an obstacle course for the boogie man. You know he's bound to come when your husband travels, and you'll be damned if you'll make it easy for him to get you.

Two hours s l o w l y go by and the troops are starting to head into dream land. Little puffer fish is starting to return to his normal size and color and is the first to fall asleep...before the medicine takes place. There is a God.

The events of the evening will cause your actions to become extremely uncharacteristic. For the first time in your life, you will turn off the TV before you fall asleep. You are exhausted, and will drift off after only a few minutes of feeling sorry for yourself.

118 seconds go by. And then it happens.

You'll abruptly be awakened by the sound of projectile vomit in action. You'll rush to the side of your oldest child who has puked on everything within a 6 foot radius of his body....including his brother.

Fast forward two hours....

It's now midnight and you'll find yourself knee-deep in vomit. Vomit on the carpet, vomit on the walls (yes, you read that right), vomit on you, and vomit on sleeping children who remain unaware that they have been so heinously violated.

Having a child THIS SICK will quickly shift you into zombie mode. You'll spend the rest of the night doing laundry, and rinsing out the puke bucket. Over and over again. Daylight will come (though not soon enough) and you will find yourself handing the dog a piece of toast and offering your children dog biscuits.  Trust me on this.

You'll open your cupboards and realize you are no where near equipped to handle such tragedy.  You send an SOS to your parents in the form of a grocery list that reads:

Tide
Bleach
Gatorade
Ginger Ale
Saltines
Paper towels
Rubber gloves
Lysol

Pharmacy prescription for Zofran

Like always, your parents are able to detect your desperate state and come to your rescue with everything requested on the list.

But they decline your invite to come inside. 

The next 24 hours can be explained through pictures like this-

 

And this-

                                                                    
                                                                     And this-

Your husband will come home just in time to assist with the remaining 3 children who fall ill.  (Child number 4 is holding out, and so far, has escaped the gruesome spell.)  Together, you will do loads of laundry, and bond while sporting matching cans of Lysol in your back pockets. 

After 5 days of microorganism fun, things will slowly return to normal. 

And just as they do, your husband will alert you to the fact that he's heading back to AZ in two weeks.

Over my damn body.

104

104.  That's the number of days since I've been here.  The dust is thick, and it may take some time to shift my writing ability to that of which has nothing to do with forced assignments, length requirements, or APA formatting, but I'm here to give it a shot.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

On my first day back in the saddle, I gave myself an easy assignment.  I think it's important to trot before attempting to gallop.  If anyone knows that, it's ME.

Here it is.  My welcome back to blogging post.  Yes, I just welcomed myself back.  It's my blog.  I can do that.

Top 10 reasons why I'm coming back to blogging-
                                                        (In random order)

10.- I just graduated from school and I'm eager to get back into writing about whatever the hell I want.  I'm so done with school that I may intentionally mispell (that was on purpose) words and use improper grammar just BECAUSE I CAN.  Try to grade me.  I dare you.

9.- I know you are dying to hear about how bad life is when your disposal breaks....or how much worse it can get when you turn on the water (in the midst of it being fixed) and you cause a major flood.  Oh yes, things like this make great writing material.

8.- The more I write, the better I feel.  And we all deserve to feel good.

7.- Since I'm no longer on Facebook, blogging will bring me back into the social media network, and I miss my network groupies.

6.- I woke up at 6:00 AM this morning and made the boys piping hot blueberry muffins with the biggest, juiciest, most ginormous (and organic!) blueberries on the planet and they rejected them.  Two of the boys even cried.  My blueberry muffins made my children sob.  I so need to share these things.

5.- I'm excited to write about whatever I feel like writing about.  (I'm repeating myself, aren't I?)

4.- Spring is on it's way, and it will be here early (thanks Punxsutawney Phil!).  That doesn't leave me a lot of time to get my garden on.  I'm eager to write about topics like swiss chard and kale.

3.- My oldest turns 12 next week.  That's dangerously close to 13.  That, my friends, leaves a lot to write about.

2.- I still dream about (every 27.2 seconds to be precise) moving to a farm.  Maybe the more I write about it, the faster it will come true? 

1.- I have 104 days of happenings that I'm yearning to share.

But only if you're ready to listen.

Walkabout

Where has the time gone, and why do I always feel as though I start my blog posts with this sentence? Fall break came and went,and I'm trying to adjust to life without a house full of rowdy boys. It's nice to have calm and quiet every now and then, but I miss my noisy gents.

A quiet house is a lonely one.

On Sunday, Derek and I took the youngsters on a walk to enjoy the warm sun and beautiful fall colors.  We spend a lot of time outdoors, but this particular outing will always remain at the top of my list.  We were missing one boy, who was busy working off his debt at Dee and Papa's.  It was strange not having him with us, and even more peculiar to be counting to four every time I did a headcount....which I do quite frequently.  Though we missed his presence, he jumped at the opportunity to duck out of yet another family hike.  The boy is growing up, and I am not a fan.

Our journey was filled with treasures just waiting to be discovered. One of the first, was a row of abandoned nests from the little mud swallows who have flown south in search of warmer temps. 

 

There were plenty of snake holes, trap door spider caves, and other miscellaneous

 crevasses to explore.

 

 

Look at this view.  I could stare at this picture all day.  In fact, I may.

 

 

We helped a few silk weeds escape their pods. 

They whispered 'thanks' as they blew away

 in the wind.

 

 

Another picture that I could stare at forever.

 

 

This was taken right before I made him step away from the cliff.  It may look as though he's right at the shore, but don't let it fool you.  He was teetering at a death-defying 12 feet above the water.  He was also in a trance and seemed to be mesmerized by his surroundings. 

Love this nature-lovin' boy of mine

 

 

Well done, kids.  You didn't cut our heads off this time.

 

 

A hike is not a hike until you find a hopper or two....or three or four.

 

 

Is it just me, or could you stand in this spot and quickly forget all your cares

and worries in the world?

 

 

This picture isn't nearly as beautiful as the actual scene in real life.  The glistening leaves that lined the path mimicked the yellow brick road.  I was disappointed to find that the wizard

was not at the end.  I'd like to ask him for a few things.

 

 

Some of us find walking sticks, while others say 'screw it' and take the whole damn branch.

 

 

(I took 97 pictures.)

 

 

It's all fun and games til someone steps on a cactus. 

 

 

He wouldn't tell me his wish, but I'd venture to guess it had something to do with a hot dog, a steak, or a slab of ribs.  The boy NEVER.  STOPS.  EATING.

 

 

Looks like this caterpillar was just as hungry.

 

 

Items not pictured are, a water snake, a pair of mallards, a hawk, one ginormous ant hill, and one 11 year old who is too cool for nature walks. 

Mommy blues.

If your son left this morning for 6th grade camp, you're probably feeling a little blue today.

Feeling blue, will make you crave chocolate.

You'll keep busy, while chaperoning your kindergartners field trip, which will help you forget about the fact that your 11 year old just left for two days, which will help you avoid overindulgence in chocolate.

UNTIL....

Your friend (and fellow field trip mom) tells you about the enticing no-bake cookies she made last night (it's all your fault, Charlene!)

Hearing about chocolaty no-bake cookies will make your mouth start to water, and your tummy begin to growl.

Driving home from the field trip, you'll turn the radio up EXTRA LOUD in an effort to drown the noises of your growling stomach. 

(it won't do much good)

Once home, you'll scour the cabinets for something sweet.  Reaching for a handful of candy corn (boring), you'll glance at the peanut butter jar. Seeing the peanut butter jar will remind you of the no-bake cookies your friend told you about.  In your mind, you'll run through the short list of ingredients she said they contained and hope that you have everything.

Crossing your fingers that you have what they call for, you'll google NO-BAKE COOKIES.

Googling NO-BAKE COOKIES will leave you with a bazillion different recipes.  You pick the one that looks the yummiest (sans gluten) and tweak it to your liking.  After tweaking, you'll begin to do the following:

Bring the following to a boil:

-1 3/4 cups sugar
-4 T. cocoa powder
-1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup butter

Once your mixture is boiling, you'll let it boil for exactly one minute, then mix in the following:

-1 t. vanilla
-1/2 cup creamy peanut butter
-3 1/2 cups oats

You'll mix everything together, and drop these babies by the spoonful onto parchment (or waxed) paper.




You'll lick the pan clean.....really, you will.....and you'll let the rest set for an hour or so.  Then you'll try your best not to eat the entire batch before your kids get home.

Thinking of your kids will remind you that one of them won't be coming home for two days.  As you start to become blue, you'll remember the yummy chocolate treats you made.  As you begin to eat your third one, you'll decide that chocolate makes everything gloomy a teensy bit better.

The End.

Bye bye, susan.

Do you have a lazy susan?

No, I am not referring to that weird aunt of yours, but rather the disturbing cabinet that sits (very lazily) in the corner of your kitchen.

You know the one.

 

Do you love your susan, or are you tired of her being, you know, LAZY?

 

 

If your susan is anything like my susan, she's dirty, stained, doesn't shut properly, and has the storage capability similar to a shoebox.  Though I think a shoebox could hold more.

 

 

Last week, my susan took her last breath.  I was trying (ever so gently) to organize her unkempt shelves.  I strategically placed my baking pans (and other misc. tools) on susans' two shelves.  I closed the door, which popped back open, like it always does.  As I tried to 'fix' the door, a rolling pin got wedged, and susan became even more defiant than ever before.

 

 

I ran to the garage (mummbling a few bad words on the way), grabbed a handful of tools, and did what should have been years ago.  I ripped susan out (not so gently).

 

 

In the process, I found a lot of dust, and a Dorito chip that just may be 10 or more years old.

 

 

No more susan.

 

I loaded my new storage space (no longer referred to a susan) with my baking pans, cookie sheets, and pie plates.

 

 

It looked a little bare, so I hung cup hooks and added my rolling pin, pot holders, and even hubby's BBQ tools to the new area.  But THEN I got the bestest idea ever!

(Yes, I'm perfectly aware that bestest isn't a true word.  However, it remains one of my favorites.)

 

 

I lined that sucker with a swank pattern of contact paper.  Oh happy day!

 

 

For a finishing touch, I painted the edge of the bottom corner using a black Sharpie paint pen.

 

 

Isn't it wonderful!  It's super functional, and amazingly adorable all at the same time.

 

That'll teach susan.

 

 

ME time.

Yowzers, life is busy. I used to try to envision what life would be like once all five boys were in school. Though I'm not the lounging, bon bon type, I pictured myself getting caught up on all my little projects, in between the time I'd spend baking, decorating, painting, and writing.  Id put my feet up every now and then and get lost in a book, with a piping hot cup of tea by my side.

What the hell happened?  Granted, all 5 boys aren't in school full time, but I do have exactly four hours per week where I'm the ONLY.  ONE.  HOME.

Here's the part where I need therapy.  Those precious 240 minutes are spent cleaning, folding, organizing, running (think errands, NOT treadmill), doing, volunteering, and partaking in many other ing's.

Funny thing is, I'm having a blast!  Who knew it would be so much fun to grocery shop alone, run in and out of stores alone, fold laundry (music blaring) alone, and scrub the kitchen floor when there are no little feet eager to traipse through your mop trail?

Life is good.  Damn good.

The crisp autumn air is the cherry that sits atop this blissful life of mine.  (Have you any idea how much I adore the declining temperatures?)  Bye bye shorts and flip flops.  Hello jeans and tall boots...I've been waiting (very impatiently) for you.

In other news, when I'm not folding, cooking, cleaning, and/or running (again, no treadmill), I can be found volunteering at the boys' school.  I think I may start sleeping there.  It'd be much easier than this back and forth gig.  Last week, the boys had field day and the two littles and I went to cheer them on. 

Here's a snippet-

 

 

 

Happy Friday!

Best. Day. EVER.

Have a look at those leaves. It doesn't get more exciting. Fall has arrived, people! Today I am the happiest girl alive. It's pouring rain, and it's a brisk 55 degrees outside. I'm wearing jeans...did you hear that?  I'M WEARING JEANS, and sorting through my cookbooks trying to decide what I'll bake today. 

Today was the first day my boys have worn pants since at least March of this year. You know what that means -They all trotted off to school looking like the Cleaver's. None of them had pants that came past their ankles. Poor kids are bound to get 'the business' from their peeps today

My apologies, boys.

Look on the bright side.  At least you don't have a crazy Aunt Martha who demands you wear the short-pants suit she bought you to school.

 

 

Things could always be worse.

Buyer's Remorse

Last night I was invited to a 31 party, hosted by one of my awesome neighbors. If you're anything like me, you are reading this thinking, "what the heck is a 31 party?"

No, it has nothing to do with ice cream (though I wish they could somehow combine the two).

In short, 31 is a company that sells totes, bags, purses, etc. The catchy part is that YOU get to pick your own fabric, and can even personalize your bag with a monogram. If you're really lucky, you can even pick the color of your stitching. What's not to love? And, if you're like me, you get completely
S 
U 
C 
K 
E
D
    
I 
N
when it comes to these types of home parties. I usually fall SO in love with the products, that I end up being a consultant. Speaking of, everyone OK with their Wildtree spices and oils? Let me know if you need to order anything.

Every inch of my neighbor's family room was sprinkled with lovely bags of all shapes, sizes, and colors.  Each one reached out to me as I walked by, but this one

and this one

grabbed hold of me ever so tightly. 

I bobbled back and forth between the two, comparing their pros and cons (I'm lying a tad about the con part - they had no cons).  Disaster struck the instant I was faced with the order form.  I quickly lost control of the muscles in my hand, and I accidentally ordered them both.

Crap.

I ordered the shoulder bag in the grey fabric (shown to the right of the picture) with an A, embroidered in turquoise.  Further impaired by bad judgement, I went on to order the wristlet (in the black and white pattern on the top).

Crappity crap.

Today I'm suffering from an excruciating amount of guilt, remorse, regret, and shame....to name a few.

Before I go through with cancelling my order, I thought I should make a list of the top 10 reasons why I deserve these delightful items.  Here goes-

10.- Because I never buy things for myself (other than shampoo, toothpaste, underwear, and mascara...but not until it becomes completely dried out and clumpy).
9.- Because winter isn't coming fast enough and I'm continually faced with 90 degree days, which makes me grumpy.
8.- Because my husband is traveling for work this week, and I HATE.  BEING.  ALONE.
7.- Because I just ate a ham & hummus sandwich for lunch.
6.- Because I woke up late this morning and made my husband's lunch, my kids' lunches, packed their backpacks, and made homemade pancakes (in the shape of storm troopers, Darth Vader, and Yoda) in less than 45 minutes.
5.- Because a shoulder bag with a turquoise A would make me giddy.
4.- Because a wristlet would come in handy for places where lugging a large purse around is frowned upon (Like when we visit our farm.  Farmgirl's don't carry big purses.).
3.- Because Christmas is 105 days away.
2.- Because today is my 13th wedding anniversary, and my husband and I have no plans to go anywhere, do anything, or buy any gifts.  My husband could give me the shoulder bag, and I could give him the wristlet.  Being the manly man he is, he wouldn't have any use for the wristlet, so he would kindly re-gift it to me.  He's always been very giving.
1.- Because I'm Amy, mother of 5 amazing boys, wife of 13 amazing years, and DARN IT.....I'm  kinda worth it!