The tooth fairy has a thankless job

Matthew, at the tender age of 5 years 2 months has lost his first tooth.

To say that he was super excited is a gross understatement.

The tooth fairy is a frugal gal but leaves the kids $1 for each tooth left under their pillow.

She would leave less money but coins=choking hazard around these here parts.

Some years past when the three older kids were losing teeth I, um, I mean, the tooth fairy was making several visits a week.

$1...and they are happy to get that.

Mostly because they are relieved to discover that the tooth fairy didn't totally space her duties. because for awhile there it was the norm for the tooth fairy to mysteriously come in the middle day after it was pointed out that she forgot to come the night before...again.

When the kids got old enough and got the whole game figured out they would just come to me with their tooth and ask for $1. Not much fun in that ,but at least that saved the tooth fairy from having to remember another stop on her nightly tour.

What totally cracks me up and leaves me shaking my head is stories of kids being left tons of $, gift baskets or $50 games. For one tooth? Seriously?

I wonder what this world would be like if we all managed to scale things back...

I'm game.

Unless that means I have to give up my shoes.



Then, never mind.

Free to good any home

Kidding people...kidding...

I'm not really giving my kids away
as far as you know...

But I am giving away a carseat (look below pix of kids riding in the prison van)

**update** carseat and brown sleigh crib have found new homes.

Do you know of anyone that needs a carseat? It was only used by Levi and for only about 8 months until he got too fat for it. It has been stored inside and is clean and ready to go.

It comes with 2 bases (that are dirty because they were stored in the barn) and a JJCole Bundle me in charcoal.

I also am getting rid of a Fisher Price highchair, a white crib and a *brown sleigh style crib. Both cribs have mattresses but the cribs need some touch up paint.

Come and get it...please...

I am bilingual

In fact, I am so fluent in my other language that English could be considered my second language.

That I even spoke more than one language was a recent revelation.

Several days ago, we were attempting to round up the herd load up all the kids into the prison van. Part of that process is the locating of the shoes. Not fun, but necessary as I don't want my kids to resemble orphans.

The shoes belonging to one of the girls could not be found and I was just sure that they had to have been relocated to the upstairs.

Unfortunately, for Timothy, he was standing nearby so I ordered asked him to go upstairs and look for them.

I told him to look for a pair of Old Navy pink thong-style flip flops with a cork wedge heel.

How hard could that be, seriously?

He came back with a pair of yellow sandals that had a flat heel.

Sigh...

I sent him back upstairs after repeating the description of the shoes.

Several minutes later he returned...with the correct pair of shoes.

This is what he had to say...

Timothy: "Why didn't you tell me that they were high heels?"

Me: "I said that they had a cork wedge heel."

Timothy: "I don't speak that language, Mom."

Me: **confused** "What language is that?"

Timothy: "Shoe. I don't speak shoe."

That is when I had an epiphany.

I speak shoe.

Wonder if I can list that on my resume?

Just curious...

Not Me Monday

Sigh...Monday again why does that happen every week, I ask you?

I just feel the need to point out what a perfect mother I am. I care deeply about my family's nutritional intake and ponder deeply on a daily basis what wholesome, organic, from-scratch meals I can serve them.

I don't go on shop-a-thons, spend almost $1000 dollars on groceries with a crazy plan to mass cook meals.

I don't come home, have my slave labor kids pile it ALL onto the counter and then wish I didn't have to cook all.that.food.

I would never feel pressured to follow through with my highly stupid intense meal preparation plan and assemble 125+ meals for the freezer.

Part of the preparation plan would definitely not include staying up two different nights all freakin night for massive, interrupted cook-a-thons. I would not be that insane or desperate to avoid cooking long term.

Because I plan ahead like a seriously deranged individual with OCD I would have realized that there was not enough freezer space in our four freezers.

I certainly wouldn't have threatened my husband and demanded that he had better not come home at all unless he had another freezer with him. I definitely wouldn't take out my lack of planning on him although it did make me feel better.

ahem...

Nothing scares this superchick. Not.one.thing. It's actually a whole lot of things with bugs being up at the top of the list.

When reaching out the french doors for a plug in no stairs, by the way. Just a sharp drop to the wild outdoors I certainly wouldn't have stuck my hand in a spiderweb. Out of the corner of my eye, the sight of a leaf moving that was stuck in the web wouldn't have caused me to have a panic attack. I.fear.nothing.

You wouldn't have found me screaming, loosing my balance and doing a face plant on the dirty dirt either. I have more style that a cat and always land on my feet.

When my little piggy toe the one that goes wee-wee-wee all the way home felt like it had been self-amputated, I would have immediately checked. The first thought on my mind wouldn't have been the status of my fingernails. I am not shallow like that.

And since we are on the unfortunate topic of bugs, I would like to point out that I have no fear when opening my locked mailbox.

I don't care if little buggy-looking bugs have the misplaced assumption that underneath the handle is a prime piece of real estate. I fear them not.

So, when an alarmed bug flew out from under the handle I most certainly wouldn't have screamed. loud enough to alert the neighbors

And I most certainly would have never, ever ripped my hand back from the handle with enough force to accidentally fling my keys all the way across the road.

Thank goodness no one was looking...

Or that they took pity on "not me" and didn't laugh loud enough for me to hear.

Sigh...

Fabulous Shoe Friday

Because I want to publicly declare my love for my shoes show off some of my most fav and fab shoes I am dedicating Fridays and let's face it, all the rest of the week too to shoes.

These are my most fav shoes ever. I call these my birthday shoes because I bought them on my birthday. and no, they have nothing to do with my birthday suit...ahem....

Why you don't leave nail polish within reach of a 3 year old boy

Sorry Levi, I just don't think purple is your color.

I'm just saying...

3 year old boys are a different species

Why exactly is it called the "Terrible Twos" anyway?

Three year old boy is waaaaay worse.

There is nothing harder and more challenging makes you wish you drank then a three year old boy. *

I love all my kids but I especially get a kick out of my boys.

Watching them play sports, seeing their determination, their competitiveness...well, I just love it.

I was a tomboy myself except for when it came to shoes so sometimes I have a hard time relating to the "girliness" of my girls.

However, there is a little blip on the radar screen of boyhood, the year that they are three.

When the twins were both three I was totally a rookie it nearly killed me. We sought counseling for them. Seriously. Looking back on that now, I laugh at myself. They were just normal 3 year old boys. I thought they were possessed.

We have six boys. Thankfully, five have already passed through the 3 year old boy stage.

Five down...one to go.

Levi is now three.

Prayers welcome.


*We have not experienced "teenage girl" yet which I hear is also bad.