The Fish Pond

Laundry Disaster Update

It worked! It worked! It worked! My laundry recipe worked! I'll reveal it in a bit.

I have to admit it was a bit of a setup. I could have taken all four kids to Target. It wouldn't have been fun, but it was a quick trip and I could have done it. But then I wouldn't have had an excuse to get Uncle Orca to come over.

Today is his birthday.

He came over, and the kids kept him occupied while I went to the store and got my laundry stuff and a bunch of other things I needed. And a chocolate cake with chocolate icing. The kids were all excited and wanted to do an elaborate surprise party, but I explained that we couldn't pull that off. Too much to do in too little time. They were acting a little squirrelly when he arrived, and I figured for sure he'd guess that something was up, but he didn't, and I have to assume that it's because I always forget exactly what day his birthday is. He had a party for his 21st birthday on September 27, 1991, and that ended up being a rather significant day in my relationship with BigDaddyFish, since we started dating at that party, and I always think Uncle Orca's birthday is the 27th. I actually worried that it was this year, too, but BDF was on it, and he corrected me when I was all in a tizzy last night that we'd forgotten and that I'm a rotten friend. So, anyway, we sang to him and had cake and it was delicious. Then he went home to find his mother made a chocolate cake with chocolate icing. Death by Chocolate.

I wanted to tell you why I was so heartsick about the laundry. Yes, Angi, it's just clothes, but it happened to be a load of almost brand new clothes bought for Little Man at the start of the school year, due to a late summer growth spurt that left all of his old stuff a couple of inches too short. There were easily 9 pairs of jeans, all of which covered with red splotches all over the place. In it were also new shirts bought at the beach for the baby, and a few things of mine, three shirts that were among my favorites that I wear every week, as well as my favorite pair of jeans. All of it covered so bad it was impossible to just spray each stain individually and get it out. At least half of that stuff would have HAD to be replaced, and we just don't have the money in the budget to do that right now. It is an extra-large capacity washer, and it really was a lot of clothes. So that is why I'm relieve that THIS worked.

Laundry Disaster

I got way behind on the laundry last week - BigDaddyFish was sick with a sinus infection, and I don't know about the men in your life, but he acts like a great big baby when he's sick, so that meant I had to pick up the slack. Plus it also meant that I had extra laundry. So yesterday, my plan was to do as many loads as I could conceivably do given that the bigs only had a half day and Sunny was off school. (The bigs are out today, too, help me God (though Happy Rosh Hashanah to my Jewish friends).

I managed to wash six loads and fold four, which is pretty remarkable. I actually washed one more, but, well, it's a disaster. Somehow a crayon was in someone's pocket, and it ruined an entire load of laundry. Every single item in that load is covered in red crayon.

First, I cried. Then I consulted my good friend google and I have a recipe that I hope will work. My main problem right now is that since all the kids are home I can't go to the store to get them. Well, I could, but I like myself too much to subject myself to the hell that is four kids under the age of 9 in Target. I plan on asking Uncle Orca if he can come watch the kids for a little while so I can go to the store and get what I need.

Please tell me it will work. He will come over and the clothes will come clean. Please? Anyone? Buehler?

Maybe We Have to Broaden His Social Contacts

Last night Nemo was sitting on my bed looking through the pages of a Parenting magazine. He stopped on each page gazing at the faces, and every so often attempting to name them. A photo of a dark-haired little girl gave him pause.

"Trout?" he queried.

"No, baby, not Trout." He sat back and studied her face for a while longer.

"Dora?"

Maybe I just shouldn't let his sister watch so much TV when he's around.

Ma Bebe's Got Skillz

Tonight I went out to dinner with Little Man - we try to take each kid out for some one-on-one time from time to time, and we've found that it pays great dividends as far as their behavior is concerned. Plus it's fun. My 20 year HS reunion was tonight, but I figure if I'd wanted to keep in touch with those people I would have - and I did, with some of them. I also was able to make contact with one of the few who I'd like to reconnect with, through classmates. I frankly had more fun at a deli with my seven year old. Either I have my priorities straight or I'm officially old. Probably a bit of both.

Anyway, that meant that I left BigDaddyFish home with the other three monsters terrors monkeys darlings. He's recovering from a sinus infection that kicked his ass the past week, and really isn't up to, well, not even 70%, much less 100. I came home to find BDF and Trout sitting on the couch watching Cops at about 90 decibels, Sunny strewing Barbies from one end of the room to the other, and Nemo practically climbing me because he was so hungry. I got Nemo settled in his high chair with some food, made a plate for Sunny and sat her at the table while I put some groceries away, and then went out to talk to BDF. While sitting next to him, I happened to do a visual survey of the floor and noticed something odd.

"Why is there a wet diaper on the floor?" I looked at BDF. He denied changing the baby.

"He must have taken it off himself."

"I don't think so. He's wearing overalls." BDF walked into the kitchen, threw away the diaper, and asked the baby if he took his diaper off. I missed that part of the conversation, since I was in the other room, but BDF assured me the baby still had his diaper.

The baby fell asleep in his high chair, the other three were massively overtired and tantruming, and our Wii wasn't working, so we had plenty to distract us as we got kids in bed and dealt with our Wii (which appears to be FUBAR and will have to be sent to Nintendo to fix - we'll be Wii-less for wiiks - no Guitar Hero - I may perish). Once everyone else was settled, I picked Nemo up out of his high chair to change and put in bed. He was very very sweaty, so I really didn't think too much about the fact that he was drenched, til I put my arm under his bottom to carry him up the stairs.

Yes, indeedy, my baby DID take off his own diaper underneath his overalls, without removing any of his clothes. And he was OUT, sound asleep. I gave him a quick baby wipe and washcloth wipe down to remove the blue fuzz from the overalls from all of his parts, put a new diaper on him, and tucked him in, all without waking him.

Maybe I have a couple of skillz, too.

Surprises of Old Friends

Due to our vacation and a bunch of other conflicts, I ended up not being able to have Little Man's birthday party near his birthday. He turned 7 on September 12, and we had a little cake at home and took him to buy his present, a skateboard that he has yet to really use because he wants both BigDaddyFish and me to help him learn how. Never mind that neither of us can skateboard. I wanted to have a party for him on the 13th, but my sister's bridal shower was held that day, planned by the matron of honor without her checking with any of the rest of the wedding party to see if that day/time worked. So, we cobbled together a party for him this past Saturday. We rented a picnic pavillion at a nearby park/playground, invited a couple of friends from school, a neighbor friend, some adult friends of the family, and his cousins and wonder of wonder, everyone was able to come.

Friday night I stayed up stuffing the pinata and the treat bags, and the phone rang about 8:45. I almost didn't answer it, because I was busy and we don't usually get calls that "late" as it is in the middle of our typical bedtime routine. But I picked it up, and that's probably the best decision I made all week.

"Hello, FishyGirl? I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Friend's Mom, from Little Man's class last year? We moved at the end of the year?" Of course I remember, Little Man was a wreck for weeks after they moved. Friend, who I'll call John, was Little Man's best friend at school, and he was devastated when they moved. It intensified a period of acting out that had begun a month prior, when it was announced that John was moving. To Georgia (the state, not the country). We had talked about exchanging emails before they left, but it never happened and we really mourned the loss of that friendship.

"Well, we're in town this weekend, and we were wondering if we could get Little Man and John together to see each other while we're here." Would we ever. I invited them to the party, all five of them, and they came.

So from 1-4 pm on Saturday, we threw a bunch of sandwich fixings, chips, grapes, and carrots on a table, let the kids eat, let the kids run and play and climb on the playground equipment and play games and eat and run and play some more. We had cake and a pinata (though I forgot the candles, but it was kinda breezy so I'm unsure how they would have lasted, anyway), though several of the kids lamented that it was the pull-string kind and not the beat-the-hell-out-of-it kind (we use a wooden baseball bat for pinata bashing and it's a great way to use up some of that energy). No one wanted to go home. It was a glorious day. Finally, John's family had to leave to drive back to Georgia (but not before we got their email address), so that started the exodus, though our family friends and my sister in law and my nieces and my sister came back to our house. The last guest finally left at 10pm.

I could not, in all my imagination, have come up with a better scenario for a birthday party. Simple, cheap, fun, and most of all, full of the love of friends and family. The way it should be.

Rumors of My Demise Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

I always find that whenever we get a good sized transition happening here that it takes me more and more time each time to find my groove and get settled into a manageable routine. Please tell me I'm not the only one - please? In the twelve days since we've been home from vacation, Sunny started preschool, Little Man started karate, Trout started ballet (or she would have if she hadn't been "sick" and stayed home from school, only to run around and cause trouble with her sibs and be a PITA and then beg to go to ballet because "I'm feeling better!"), and I attended the first of two back-to-school nights. Our elementary school, in its infinite wisdom, decided to separate grades K-2 and 3-5 into separate nights, A WEEK APART. So instead of last year, when the two different BTS nights only interfered with one extracurricular activity on one night, it messes with one activity, two classes, a week apart. Not to mention that I have to come back for 2, I have to sit through the beginning "This is Why Should Join the PTA" schpiel before I can move on to my son's class, and I have to remember what time I signed up for the Nov. conference with my older child's teacher so that I don't accidently schedule the one with my younger child's teacher at the same time, AND I get to hope that I manage to get to the sign-ups in time for me to grab a spot reasonably near the first one so I don't have to come back on two different days for that, too. Am I really the only one who finds this unreasonable?

Also in that time, Little Man turned 7, he attended a birthday party for a friend, Trout attended a birthday party for a friend, and she and I both attended my sister's bridal shower. We had a small cake thing here at home for Little Man, and will be having a party for him on this weekend, because my sister's matron of honor (not me) scheduled her shower without any input from any of the rest of the wedding party as to what times might work for everyone, so it was held the exact date and time I had planned to have Little Man's party. I would have just blown it off but she's my only sister and she doesn't really have many friends - if I didn't go she wouldn't have anyone from our side of the family there. Thankfully I've decided to have Little Man's party at a park and the weather looks like it will be great, so we will do playing on the playground, lunch, playing on the playground, cake, playing on the playground, maybe some games, playing on the playground, a pinata, and maybe some more playing on the playground. Easy setup, easy cleanup, don't have to clean my house too much, and the kids have a ball. Score!

Somehow in the middle of all of that I managed to have a huge fight with my husband that lasted DAYS and a lesser misunderstanding with my sister, and still managed to cook dinner, do dishes, and work on catching up on the laundry. I am now very very tired. But I promise not to stay away this long again. I've missed you all. I haven't even been able to keep up on any but fewer than a handful of blogs - what've you all been up to?

Sand in Your Eye and Terror in Your Heart

We arrived Sunday too late to really do anything besides unpack, grocery shop, and run up to the top of the access walk to see just how close to the ocean we really were, so Monday morning was our first trip to the ocean. It was the first ever view of the ocean for Nemo, the first view of the Atlantic for Sunny. The day was bright and clear, the temps were comfortable with a good breeze coming off the ocean and low humidity. The first thing I noticed, though, was how rough the surf was, the roughest I'd seen to that point.

We meandered down the beach and found a good spot to put our stuff, not far from the access point, and not too close to the surf. Nemo was scared of it, and he'd cry and cry every time any member of our family would go near the water, much less in it. Unfortunately, the rest of the family is made up of daredevils who immediately jumped in. I tend toward the cautious, and I noticed that not many other people were playing in the water at all, even along the edges. I asked BigDaddyFish not to go in, not to take them in, but he says they're okay with him, he can handle it. I was worried, though, since I believe he tends to underestimate threat and he thinks I overestimate it, but I don't ever want my fears about things to keep my kids from living their lives - I don't want to be the parent like that guy on the tv commercial who puts flippers and a life jacket and a floaty ring and goggles and more on his daughter only to have them jump into two feet of water. BDF and I had already given the kids the "Safe Surf" lecture at least three times, so I backed off and let him take them in. BDF took one kid at a time in the water to jump around in the waves a bit, no more than thigh deep for him, so he could hold onto the kids and keep them safe. My job was to be the boundary enforcer, not allowing any of the other kids near the water. This wasn't hard because at that point the other kids were pretty cautious and didn't want to get wet yet.

While Nemo discovered that you could throw! sand! and it would fly! into your eye! or your mother's eye! I noticed the beach patrol guy coming down the beach on his little four wheeler thingy, stopping every so often and saying something to people on the beach. The wind was blowing, sand was flying, he was hopping along, and I'm trying to keep track of all the small people in all this mess and not get blinded by the sand Nemo was trying to cover me with. Trout was in the water with BDF doing their surf jumping thing, and the beach patrol guy worked his way to stop in front of us.

"We aren't allowing swimming today," he says. "We're telling people that even if you are staying in the shallows, like you are, it isn't safe to be swimming," I hear him say, as I keep an eye on all the kids to make sure no one goes into the water. I turn my head toward BDF to tell him, but he's already walked up to where we are so that he can hear, about 10 feet away from the beach patrol guy and me. Then I see Trout, and she runs sideways and jumps into a wave, her back to the surf in direct violation of what we've taught her, not seeing the larger one behind her, and then her feet are up in the air, her arms are flailing and she's going, on her back, she can't get her footing and she's being pulled out.

"GET HER, B!" I scream, knowing she can't get herself righted and she can't swim. She. Can't. Swim. It's too rough and she's being pulled out and there's no way I can get to her and BDF grabs her shoulder just as she starts to go by. She's coughing and sputtering and spitting sand and can't get out of the surf fast enough, but she's nodding and saying "I'm okay, I'm okay," between coughs. I realized I was holding my breath and let it out as the tears and nausea come, realizing just how close we were to losing her, even with the beach patrol guy standing right there.

He continued a bit of a lecture to me and BDF, mostly BDF, about not swimming because exactly what just happened could happen, with tragic results. He even said "I hate to say it, but, Death." He got back on his little ATV thing and drove off down the beach. I looked at BDF, put my hand up to lecture him, opened my mouth, and couldn't speak. He told me to put my hand down, I didn't need it, he knew.

I walked to our towels and sat down by Trout, biting my lip and drawing blood so I didn't start screaming. After all, she was safe. Sandy, shaken, but safe. Instead I sat and shook, waves of nausea and adrenaline cascading through me, unable to do anything about it but wait until it passed. The hell of it all is that Trout didn't really seem too bothered by it. Independently of each other BDF and I both sat her down and tried to explain just how close she had come to being swept out to sea, of us losing her, and she kept saying "I know, I KNOW. I'm Fine." She may have been, but I wasn't.

We let them play, primarily in the sand, for an hour more before heading back to the cottage. It was only then that I saw the red flags showing the beach as closed to swimming. I guess what Trout needed was to sleep on it, because for the rest of the trip she didn't want to go further into the water than one foot from the edge of the wash. We went to the beach Friday morning before we left, and that was the roughest surf I've ever seen. I was worried sick about it. BDF wanted to take each kid in so they could feel the power of the surf enough to knock their legs out from under them, but with him holding them, so they would develop more respect for the ocean and what it can do.

Trout refused to go. Lesson learned.

Hanna Chased Us Away

We are back a day early from our "vacation" thanks to Tropical Storm Hanna. I think for SAHMs it's not so much a vacation as a business trip - same old work, different location. We had our share of adventures and lessons learned, and I will be posting about them soon, after I recover a bit - I'm exhausted. I wanted to thank Uncle Orca, Hokgardner, Jodi, and Angi for holding down the fort for me with such awesome posts while I was gone.

Welcoming Fall

Our final guest post comes from my friend Angi, another friend who I met because of this here Internet thing, where we were on a Babycenter board together. Angi's life is so similar to mine that I've decided we are sisters - we both have four kids, we each have two girls and two boys, the kids are about the same ages, and her last baby and my last baby were even born on the same day. Ava's adorable, too, so do you think it would be too much if we promised them to each other? Yeah? Oh, well, it could happen. Angi's recently discovered the joy and rejuvenation that comes from having two kids in school all day.

While Fishy Girl is away enjoying the beach (!!!) I've decided to stop by for a visit. And let me tell you, as much as I'd LOVE to be on some beach somewhere, I've got another thing on my mind already. Fall.

Like most people, I can not believe another summer is coming to an end. I always am SO ready for summer to begin, but when it gets close to this time of year, I start feeling ready for the relaxed feel of fall too. I know you are wondering how I can feel relaxed with school staring up & soccer season in full swing, right?

Well, there is SO much to love about it...

Our family spends alot of time outside together, and the cooler temps that come with fall are perfect for that. I also love to see the leaves changing colors. There are alot of trees here, and the color change is gradual, so it does not go unnoticed. The colors are amazing in the fall in Ohio. The kids & I drive around looking out for the best colors, and each year we talk about going down to "Southern Ohio" where it is said to be even more beautiful.

I also love the feel of a cool, lazy day in the fall. Warm cider, a cozy blanket, a good book, a candle burning (a yummy baking scent of course), maybe some apple crisp in the oven or some veggie soup slow cooking all day. Or a day spent outside, collecting leaves with the kids. It seems they never get tired of trying to find the BIGGEST leaf, or a yellow (my favorite color) one for me. Of course there is also the pumpkin patch & the apple farm trips. There is something about watching them enjoy these places that beings me back to my own childhood. And, let's face it...I am such a sucker for a hayride with my kiddos :)

I thought that it would be fun to share your favorite fall thoughts/memories/recipes with Fishy Girl because, let's face it...when she comes home from the beach, her thoughts will still be of sand & sun and the beauty of the ocean, not enjoying fall just yet. So leave her a comment, link her to a nice fall post, share your thoughts on fall this year, share a great fall recipe (I'll be watching for those!) - I know she'd love to return to some blog lovin'

Because I love me some crafts, I'll start by sharing a link to the best place for kids crafts & fun ideas http://familyfun.go.com/arts-and-crafts/season/specialfeature/famf0802_sf_autumn/

Now it is your turn...

I want to thank Agincourtdb, Hokgardner, Jodi, and Angi for taking such good care of my little pond here while I'm gone. Type back to you on Monday, or whenever I've recovered from my vacation - I'm sure there'll be tons of stories to tell!

I Used to Care About My Dog

Next we have Jodi, who I was lucky enough to find through blogging but has become a real-life friend, too, as she lives maybe ten miles away. The first time we met she told me she was an attorney who "basically I take people's kids away" which made me a little scared of her, but she's cool as long as you feed your kids from time to time and don't beat them in front of her (I kid!). She's mom to an adorable little preschooler named Michael who my kids want to adopt, and she's quite tolerant of going to Chuck E Cheese only to have me run off in search of my kids in the middle of every other sentence of a conversation. She's really a fan of short blog posts, so I'm flattered that this looks like one of the longest one's she's written. She really does love that dog.

The day I got home from my honeymoon I adopted a dog, Foster.  Foster had been abused, and took a lot, a lot, of work.  We almost gave him back many, many times.  That first year he destroyed my house.  Ripped up everything in sight.  Left random things by the front door.  He once dragged my queen size comforter down our stairs and left it right by our front door.  How that happened I don't know, our stairs turn and it seemed like a lot of work for a 50 pound dog but he had all day to do it.  He didn't destroy, just left it there for us to find.

When we first got him he would sit in the corner and shake  He has seen a dog behaviorist (yes, that's a dog shrink), 3 times. He's been on paxil. We have gone through about 5 dog walkers, and he had a routine we went through before we left the house.  We had to leave a ball of kibble and a treat wrapped in a t-shirt.  Now, I'm lucky if I remember to feed him. I'm more relaxed about my child's schedule than I was about my dog's. He was the center of our lives before Michael arrived.

Poor, poor Foster.  We pretty much remember to walk and feed him, and every once in a while he gets petted.  Michael tortures this poor dog. He grabs him, pulls on him, hits him, throws things at him, etc., etc. He treats Foster like the sibling he is never going to have. And Foster takes it all, because Michael feeds him. Whatever he is eating goes to Foster. Foster gained 10 pounds the year Michael started solid foods, Michael gained 8.

I know that Foster is better off with us then had we left him with the rescue organization.  I know that we have invested more time, money, and love that other people would have in our situation.  But since Michael has arrived Foster really doesn't get the attention and love he deserves.  I always lock him up when other children come over because while I don't think he would ever do anything, I do worry. And he just can't handle all the chaos.

Sometimes I think we should give him away. He would do better with a home that could dedicate more time to him. But really, no one is going to take this dog but us. And for better or worse, he is family. I wouldn't give my husband away, as much as I would like to sometimes.