I am Happy.
I have so many blessings. I am loved. And I am happy!
I turned 28 last week.
My children hugged me and kissed me and told me how very much the loved me and wished me a happy birthday. All day. All day long they brought me homemade gifts and treasures that they had saved just for me. They went shopping with money they had worked hard to earn and brought home chocolate and stuffed Angry Birds and a silly card that we are all still giggling over.
It was a wonderful, wonderful birthday. People are always asking me how I can possibly manage seven children and how I must have my hands full. WoW! That is crazy or you are one brave woman! People, I am LUCKY. So lucky to have seven wonderful children.
I am Happy.
I have the opportunity to drive around alot of cars. We go through used cars like, like……like I go through chocolate. Oh yes. We are in the market for another vehicle right now. Sadly something bigger and badder then the minivan.
Having seven kids can wreak havoc on the gas bill. And the grocery bill. And the clothing budget. Basically children are a financial black hole. Cutest, most adorable black holes ever.
Any-who, I like to drive. It is de stressing, it calms me down when I am all keyed up.
And then I was eating a whopper jr. and it was good.
I can’t just go on drives if I have to drive a twelve passenger van. I want a suburban. An old suburban, something in the early 90’s range.
But you should only ever buy your fries from McD’s.
Or just make your own, soooo much better.
Of course a suburban doesn’t get any better gas mileage then a huge ole van, so what I really need is a tiny little Toyota. But I can’t fir us all in a clown car……….There is no winning here…
Our pig, for the third time in a week, got out of her pen after Joff had gone off to work. I had to chase her down the road today. Lured her back with Piggy Kibble. She wanted it so bad, she knocked me over and tore my jeans! She has bitten me twice in this last week and knocked me down more times then I can count. And Joff wonders why I dislike her so. I used to dislike goats but the goats have never been so evil, so now I am pro goat and anti pig. Unless that pig comes in the form of bacon. Or chops. Or ribs.
I was abducted by humans from my home planet.
Caleb commands. That, apparently, is his right as a three year old. He commands me to watch him play, and to read to him and he demands Popsicles. The popsicles he eats! Someone please tell me that frozen flavored sugar water is healthy please. Just lie to me.
He also likes to test all of the rules. Even though there are really only two important ones. Break them he must.
I adore my little boy though, he is a sweetheart who loves his siblings so completely. He played peek-a-boo with Chantelle for the longest time today, insisting she loved every minute of it. He is brave and strong. Taking on the bad guys and making sure they don’t try to make off with his precious sisters, he patrols the yard in his pirate hat, sticks for swords and guns and wearing mismatching shoes. Eclectic little love.
My baby is one month old! Why does time fly so? I love being a mom. And after several children and growing up a bit myself, I feel as though I am able to sit back and enjoy being a mom. Not a nervous wreck. Of course I do have more learning and growing, but as far babies go, I feel fairly confident.
Blueberry raking for the uninformed is one of the cruelest forms of torture on the face of the planet. Katie had her very first opportunity to experience this self inflicted punishment this week and surprisingly she did very well. I am usually whining within ten minutes on the field. Dear kitty in the clouds let me go home and curl up in bed and never see another wretched blueberry again, ever…….insert weeping. I am a wimp though and I am not afraid to admit it. Katie was determined to stick it out and make her goal of five boxes, which she completed. I am so proud of her work ethic. Fortunately I haven’t had to be on the barrens in years, so my children do not know the shame of a weak and sniveling mother. Sadly my other children do not get to have a go at it till next year and while I love each of my children dearly, I happen to know that a couple of them took after there mum in the laziness department, so it is good they have another year to prep. Poor mites.