So sorry.

I haven't felt like writing lately.  A close relative passed away last week and we buried her this week.  I didn't feel like it was my place to write about it on facebook, since she was related to my husband, but it has been a week of mixed emotions and heartbreak.

Therefore, I wasn't really feeling like being snarky or funny.  But life continues and kids are kids and they started school!  Yes!!!!  

Now don't get me wrong.  I adore those 8 hours I get kid-free and quiet-house.  Cleaning that stays clean.  All good things in my book.  But for some reason, this year doesn't feel quite as liberating.  Maybe it is because of the death and funeral.  I think, most likely, it is because my husband is actually home this week.  He is usually driving all across the USA doing his work thing all week long and then makes appearances on weekends.  And I have come to appreciate both the leaving and the returning.

If I traveled back in time and told my newlywed self or even my dating-seriously self that this is how my marriage would work, I would have said, "No way.  I would never live in a weekend marriage."  However, 17 years later, this is really quite pleasant.  My husband is a really great guy.  We talk every day and I keep him up on the minute to minute drama of quadruplets.  And when he returns we are happy and relieved to see each other and it is a little celebration.

I have taken on tasks that, honestly, should have been mine from the start.  I take out the garbage, pay the house payment and all the other bills, manage our bank account, and fix whatever things break while he is gone if I can.  Those don't sound super tough, but it can pile up when you add in feeding and maintaining life for the rest of the household.  And clean clothes.  

Laundry is never-ending and the bottom of the laundry basket is a rare sight.  The unicorn of laundry.

But I digress.  Anyway, if any of you Russian readers have noticed the absence, then blame it on the death in the family.  Have a great weekend.

I am an idiot.

This school year I have agreed to set aside my sanity and be the treasurer for my children's school PTO.  This is not a small commitment.  The PTO raises and spends thousands of dollars each year.  And I have had some issues with how some things are done.  But I decided that things would only be changed if someone stepped up and worked from within to make it better.  And I have control issues, so who better to get in there and do that??  Why, yes, I am raising my hand for that job because I have control issues.  And I'm an idiot.

This new commitment is my own fault.  When we first were attending our church, I saw some things I didn't like about the children's program.  The choirs were not age appropriate.  They ran too late for the littles.  And they sang completely inappropriate songs for them too.  

If you didn't know this, 3 and 4 year olds do not like to sing praise choruses, as a rule.  They want to use their whole body to sing.  Jumping is required.  But the littles in the one choir were singing praise choruses all the time.  And they were bored.  It was hard for me to watch.  

I can remember singing in a little choir that my mom directed at my church.  We sang the song from "It's a Small World" which is a surprisingly appropriate song for church.  And also is surprisingly appropriate for littles.

This was not happening at our church.  The littles were standing at the front of the church, dwarfed by the big kids and staring into space.  No jumping.  No cute antics.  Just the parents (ME) cringing at their glazed eyes and penchant for knocking over very expensive microphones.

So when I was asked to direct the choir because the former director had a new commitment that meant she couldn't continue, I jumped at the chance.  And I immediately started a second and third choir for the littles.  Now there is a teeny choir.  They mostly do a few actions as the leader strums her guitar.  But they are learning rhythm and look so stinking cute not really singing in front of the church a couple of times a year.

We also have a middle choir.  These guys go to school but learn the church basics of Father Abraham and Deep and Wide.  And no those are not porn movie titles.  If you have spent any time with children at a church, you may have heard them.

And we have the Jr. choir that I direct.  We sing more contemporary praise choruses and some fun, silly songs like, "I Think I'm Going To Throw Up" and "I Just Want To Be A Sheep."  And we do two musicals a year.  TWO!  

All of these things are not small amounts of work.  I talk to the other directors and ask their kids to do cameos in the big kids musicals.  I make sure they can sing in front of the church a few times during the school year and I talk to our sound guys and musicians to make sure all of this goes smoothly.  And I choose the musicals, assign parts to the people most likely to learn them, help with sets and costumes, create power points of each song and all the spoken parts so that the kids have a performance crutch, and direct the large dress rehearsals before the programs.  And we practice every Wednesday night for about 30 minutes.  

The time commitment is about 50 hours a semester.  And now I am adding PTO treasurer.  I am truly an idiot.  This whole Stay-At-Home-Mom gig is turning into a Rarely-At-Home-Mom gig.

How does your school schedule shape up?  I know many other folks have more commitments than this.  Some folks do all this sort of stuff and have a job as well.  Tell me!  Vent away!  Overcommitted Moms Unite!

I am a cunning linguist.

My internet went a little sideways this week.  The hubba-lubba-ding-dong came home and set everything right.  All is well.  I hate that I waited for him to return to get it fixed.  I could have done that myself.  I am not helpless.  But I am busy.

I managed to do the hundred other things that needed doing this week and I had 4G on my phone so I was fine with not having my desktop, except for this blog.  Or personal diary.  More of a personal diary because most of the folks who are reading it are in Russia.  Seriously.  Blogger tracks these things. 

And the most viewed post was the one titled "The Story of a Quicky."  Now real people who read will realize that this was about a quick weekend trip away with my family.  It in no way referred to any bedroom activities.

But now I know that if I want to get more hits on the blog, I need to make vaguely sexual references in my titles.  Titles like "Blow My Man Down" that is about an unfortunate weather incident.  Or  "Getting Laid" that is really about putting down new flooring.  Or perhaps "My Threesome" which would relate my day with my kids, but one is visiting his Nana.

Think you could come up with more vaguely sexual titles?  I would use them if you leave one in the comments!  (See what I did there?  Just a small beg for comments!)  Come on all you Russians!  Put your comment through the Google translator and have a go!  Practice your english skills!

Oh my God!  I have to post something just so I can push my over-sharing "Skinny Minnie" post farther down the blog!  I cringe each time I see it.  I may have to delete it.

As a sort of update for it, I have been back on the exercise and diet wagon.  My self-control today is phenomenal.  I know this because after violin practice ran late, I picked up Dairy Queen for the kids and did not order anything for myself.  The story I told myself in my head was that there was no way they would finish their food and I could nab a few fries or a bite of a sundae.  

But the fact is that now that I am home I will be much less likely to nibble on their food and will eat my chicken breast and vegetables with gusto.  I hope.

Good luck to you if you can say no to ice cream in the summer.

While on our beach vacation we scheduled a beach photo shoot for the whole family.  It seemed like such a good idea in my house far away from the beach.  Sunsets are lovely over the gulf and I had enviously viewed my friends' pictures from their beach vacations.  It will be perfect, I thought.

You probably know me well enough to know by now that if there is a way to make something more complicated or annoying, we manage to find it.  First of all, I booked a photographer that wasn't actually in the area where we were staying.  She was lovely and very friendly, but  it was an hour drive to meet her half-way.  And the traffic in Destin is famously horrible.  And there was a car accident that slowed both directions down.  Our side was slow because people are stupid about checking out an accident.  I hate that.  I don't get the fascination at all.  So the hour drive took an hour and a half.  But we did get there.

We met the photographer and walked out onto the beach where no less than 5 other photographers were taking pictures.  It was a beautiful evening, and that was almost a miracle right there, so I could understand the crowd a bit, but it is hard to make it look like you are on some deserted stretch of beach when 50 other people are trying to do the same thing.

And then there was the timing.  It isn't like you can choose the time of your sunset.  It sets when it sets.  But to get there on time, we had to leave at a time we would usually be eating.  Eating before would have put it at about early afternoon and we weren't hungry then.  So imagine 4 hungry kids, two grumpy grandparents, and two frustrated parents.  Not optimal photo-taking behavior.  

The kids were unbelievably inattentive and obedient.  I mean, way beyond our normal orneriness into clinically disobedient.  No amount of threats or bribes were going to get them to walk or stand or sit correctly for those dreamed of shots of perfect children. 

But it turns out, after all that, and the late late dinner we had after (because every restaurant was as busy as the road had been and we didn't sit down to food until 10pm!) the photographer posted a sneak peek to the photo session and the pictures are FABULOUS!!  No kidding, AMAZING!  We are so going to be purchasing more than a CD of these pictures!

Whew!

Update:  For some reason, these posts are out of order on my blog.  Sorry about that.  I will stop fiddling with the font despite continuity issues.  My OCD can relax.

Like I mentioned before, we are preparing for a long car trip.  Like in a few hours.  I have the capability to post from the road on my smart phone.  But typing big, long essays while riding in the car is not compatible with sanity.  So you should expect little tiny posts.  They may look like this:


Shhometh....

Like I said, not compatible.

Right now I am looking at one long counter of food stuff that needs to be packed up some way to travel in a hot truck bed (covered) for the next two days.  I am thinking laundry baskets, because we are Klassy.

And there is still a pretty big list of things to buy once we are there because I am not transporting the 3 dozen eggs and two gallons of milk or anything else that needs refrigeration.  I love vacations.

Why is it that when we plan for a week of 'relaxation' it requires a few days of heightened stress?  To illustrate the stress, I had a doctor's appointment this week.  I have asthma and about every 6 months I have to go have my lungs listened to in order to make sure I can still breathe.  Breathing is nice, wouldn't you say?

This time my blood pressure was high.  Not, get-this-girl-to-the-hospital high, but high enough that I am no longer ingesting intentional salt and the whole weight loss thing is more urgent than ever before.  Those of you who are thinking right now, "Of course she has high blood pressure, she's a fatty," can stop reading and kiss my very wide ass.  I don't need you here.  Go.  Away.

I have never had highish blood pressure before.  I joked with the doctor about how my blood pressure would go down once the kids were in school and all was okay, but it was a little frightening.  I should be made of sterner stuff after having 4 human beings inside, but I am not.

In any case, driving for 10 hours plus stops and meals and negotiating said stops and meals with my 4 children, cranky husband, bipolar mother, and wonderful father should end up with a MUCH lower blood pressure, I am sure.  You will certainly know when I get back.  Cause I am an over-sharer.

Debbie Downer

Last year we planned a trip to Florida with my parents.  4 kids.  4 adults.  Two minivans.  Negative 10 sanity.  We got to Montgomery, AL and stopped for the night.  When we awoke the next morning, The Weather Channel people were having on-air orgasms because there was a TROPICAL STORM COMING RIGHT NOW RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE GOING!!  TAKE COVER!!

We had family in the area so we called them.  They were pretty nonchalant about it.  It was just cloudy and sprinkling.  So we checked The Weather Channel again and they weren't sure of the path Debbie would take but IT HAS BEEN UPGRADED FROM TROPICAL STORM TO HURRICANE!!  TAKE COVER!!

We talked about what to do.  I got a headache trying to contain the little darlings in two hotel rooms without causing damage.  We watched The Weather Channel again and called some friends who were in the area and they confirmed that it was just cloudy.  But I was very hesitant to continue toward the area.

We were supposed to be in a condo on the beach.  Facing the beach.  Large windows down one whole side.  On.  The.  Beach.  I am from the mid-west.  I know what to do in case of an earthquake, severe thunderstorm, and tornado.  I even have some ideas about zombie apocalypse. But hurricanes are an unknown.  I hear you need sheets of plywood.  I was bringing my crockpot and griddle and a butt ton of food but no plywood.

So we opted to turn around and head to Gatlinburg, TN.  It was another full day on the road and we were very happy to pull up to our jumbo cabin with 4 bedrooms, each with its own jacuzzi tub, a kitchen, large living room and deck with another hot tub.  Lovely!  We paid much less for the giant cabin in the mountains than we did for the condo on the beach.

Then we went to Dollywood and had to take out a loan to get in.  We hiked some mountain trails and almost saw some bear.  We ate out nearly every meal because cooking in a cabin in the mountains was a whole different deal than cooking on the beach.  And we visited the Ripley's Aquarium and took out another small loan.  In the end, though our accommodations were cheaper, it was much more expensive to do things in the mountains than it would have been on the beach.  Because on the beach we would have just played and swam and walked.

We are attempting another trip to the beach this summer.  My kids regularly curse Debbie in their little 8 year old ways.  I don't think we would let The Weather Channel turn us around again unless there was truly a hurricane coming.  Not the hands-in-the-air, gleeful, the sky is falling sort of reporting.

I hate The Weather Channel.

Taaaa Daaaa!!!!


Another new blog!  I bet you just can't wait to see what another suburban housewife thinks about toilet paper.


Or not so much.  


So what makes this blog different?  I don't know for sure.  I have a pretty irreverent sense of humor.  I do have 4 children and they are all the same age.  Lots of folks seem to think that is worth a comment or two.  I am sure they will have some starring roles in the weeks to come.  


I live in a rural area of Southern Illinois.  I like to say we put the southern into Southern Illinois.  Let's just suffice it to say that if you visit the local DQ you might hear the word "warsh" or perhaps "you'ns."  As in, "You'ns better warsh your hands before you eat all that ice cream cone!"


But mostly what is getting me started is a power outage.


I woke at 3 AM to one of the kids crying because the light was out.  The power was out so, of course, the lights didn't work.  The child who woke to NO LIGHT was not comforted by the no power story and woke every other kid up too.  That was fun.  I spent the next hour consoling and cajoling them to restfulness.


But after they were content, I was awake.  The husband?  Yeah.  He was sound asleep and when nudged, not happy to hear that anyone else was awake.  I would say that in that moment he really didn't care.  And I was still awake.  


It wasn't storming out.  There was no immediately visible reason for the power outage.  I was starting to be curious.  Hell, I was awake.  I might as well ruminate on what was going on outside.  


My first thought was that it must be a Zombie Apocalypse.  


I know.  It is sunny outside right now so that sounds pretty absurd and foolish.  But at four in the morning with a little bit of fog, I admit I looked out the windows for shambling silhouettes.


I began perusing the pantry to check our supplies.  I had some water, some canned meat.  


That wouldn't make it in all the zombie movies I had watched.  Zombieland still had power, but Walking Dead does not.  How long could we last on these supplies?  Maybe I need to raid a grocery store.


What about protection?  My husband is a hunter so we do have some ammunition and a few firearms.  Not enough.  Add that to the grocery store raid.


So what if my family became zombies?  That would be tough.  Now, looking back, I am highly amused at how quickly I came to the conclusion...




I would let my kids eat me.  But I would kill my husband if he was a zombie.  Sorry buddy.  


I did eventually get back to sleep.  I haven't told my husband yet that he wouldn't make the cut in a zombie apocalypse.  I am not sure the idea would even keep him up at night.