Crabs and Flying Zookeepers!

You know how there are just some days?  The days when it really didn't pay to get out of bed?

That was yesterday.

The day started way too early and there was just one hiccup after another but the exhibits got to visit a neighboring Zoo for a while and they were happy with that idea.  Mid afternoon our neighboring exhibits came to visit so that they could meet Rookie Walter.

We all decided to visit on the driveway where the wee ones could play with sidewalk chalk while Walter got some fresh air.  He still hasn't gotten used to staying in the yard yet so he has to be on his leash for these little adventures.  I was chatting with my Neighbor and not really paying very much attention to Walter's leash until I stood up and realized that I had one leg tangled. 

You see where this is going right?

Now in his defense, he didn't pull or lunge or anything to that effect.  He just tried to walk to see Rhino's art work.  Behind me.  Did I mention it's a retractable leash?  I don't know why I didn't release it.  I just know that before I could even blink my legs went out from under me and flipped up over my head.   The following dialogue played out in my brain.

You're airborne you know.
Yeah that occurred to me.
Try not to land on your head.
Ok but I can't let go of the dog either.
You're coming down now.  And pretty fast.
This is going to hurt.
I wonder which body part I'm going to land on.
Who cares? I still have a grip on the dog.
I probably shouldn't land on the Rhino.

CRASH!!  and Rollllll right on down the driveway.   The next thing I heard was my Neighbor telling me to let go of the leash; she had the dog.  Then the dog licked me and I opened my eyes.  Assessment.  I landed on my elbow which was surprisingly free of blood.  I apparently had my feet slightly tucked under me because I bruised a heel and a little toe.  I didn't notice until about an hour later that my tailbone was throbbing so I guess I made fifth point contact too.

Then Orangutan walked up to me and said, "I took this stick out of your pocket Mama."  I dissolved into laughter.  I just crashed and rolled 10 feet down the driveway and she thought to make sure I was presentable.  She didn't brush the blue chalk off my butt but I was twig free.

Obviously we called an end to the playdate.  I rounded up my exhibits and took them inside for showers.  I sent a quick message to Lion letting him know that I resembled something totalled in a car wreck and he immediately called back.  He checked on me and let me know that he was running an errand on his way home and then he dropped a little bomb.

"Hey I'm bringing home a little surprise for the family."  I'm sorry?!  Wasn't Walter a big enough surprise for this year?!

"What exactly are you bringing home?"
"A pair of hermit crabs."  Apparently word has gotten out that we are adopters.

I dropped to the floor (gently of course) and laughed myself silly.  He actually hung up on me. 

Marmie has adopted them as her own since O and Rhino have aquariums already (which are in need of restocking by the way).  Their names are Luz and Annie and she is in love with them - as in, they ate breakfast with her.

I made Lion make me a promise before he left for work today.  That he come home empty handed.  All that's left is a turtle, hamster, guinea pig or bird.  And heaven knows I'm out of space!

The Chief, The Sarge, and The Rookie

**There are some great pictures that are supposed to go with this post.  Unfortunately DinoComp won't let Blogger have them and I don't have the patience to force the issue right now.  When the Speed Demon gets back I'll put the pics in.  Until then...use your imagination, please.**

In case you missed it over at The Bowl, we were looking at adopting a new dog to add to the Zoo security force.  Then the owners decided that they didn't need to give it up after all.  And then Lion's phone chirped at 9:45 Thursday night.

"Hey, were you still thinking about the dog?"
"Absolutely!" I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head.  And I thought I was going to barf.
"I'll know for certain in the morning but we'll talk."

9:45 Friday  morning.  I was paying Zoo invoices and getting my brain together for OAT, RAT shopping when my phone rang.  "He's OURS!!"  Yay...Don't get me wrong.  I love dogs.  Security Chief Max has been with me for 10 years.  We've seen some good days and some rough days together.  He knew I was in labor before I did.  He's faithful, sweet, and adores the children.  But he's a small dog.  And this is, and always has been, HIS house.

Then you have The Sarge, Bentley.  He's the neighbor's 80 pound chocolate lab who spends a lot of time at our house when Neighbor has to work till all hours of the morning.  He thinks he's mine.  He will attack his own owner if he tries to yell or mess with me.  And he'll growl at me if he thinks I'm being too rough with the kids when we wrestle. 

(You HAVE noticed that they are both males, right?)

And now (as of 9:45 Friday night) we have The Rookie.  And when I say Rookie I mean, puppy brain.  This dog is house broken and that's about it.  His (yes, a third male dog!) name was Max too but we are trying to change it to Walter.  Walter is not terribly bright.  And he's a black standard poodle.  With a mohawk.  And a paw and crossbones collar.  And a barking habit.  He's a sweet dog and very cuddly.

But he barks a menacing bark at every sound and to tell you he wants to play.  He wants to play with The Chief a lot.  He wanted to play with The Chief at 1 AM.  The Chief wanted nothing to do with him so he barked back which The Rookie took to mean that we were going to talk about playing all night.  Like two kids having a sleepover planning the next day.

At 1 AM.

I do believe my time today will be spent researching some new acadamies that Walter the Rookie and I can attend together this fall.  Or buying several bedtime muzzles.

And The Z.I.T. Presses On.

If you are new to the Zoo, let me explain Z.I.T.  Zookeeper In Training.  That would be my beloved sister.  Her Zoo consists of a boxer, a cat, and a drill sergeant.  Yeah, it's definitely a mobile Zoo.

I was scrolling along checking out my Facebook pals when I came across her status posting. "For the record...spray olive oil will remove fly paper glue from a cat."

It was all I could do not to pick up the phone and speed dial immediately!  I mean seriously!  That had to be the most awesome story EVER!!  Especially if you know the cat in question.  She's the ultimate cat.  I mean attitude and all and her name is Cleopatra (or Fatra as I like to call her).  The suspense was killing me.

Then I got the phone call that explained it all and I cried in hysteria before I was able to choke out, "You have to write this down so I can blog it!"  My sister is so sweetly accommodating.  The following is her account (in italics) and of course, my commentary.

So it started off like a normal day. (Like those EVER happen!) The alarm goes off at 5:30am; mommy stumbles out of bed; lets Baxter (also known as Eating Machine) outside to do his potty thing; and down the steps we go to feed Cleo. I open up the can of cat food, and dump breakfast into the bowl.  The kitty is happy so mom goes to let the boy back in for his breakfast. Normal start....then it all goes wonky.



There is a strange sound followed by a cat like screech, and here comes Cleo streaking out into the laundry room with a fly strip zig zagged down her back and up her tail. (People, this cat doesn't "streak" anywhere - she might roll quickly but "streaking" is not her normal MO.) There is nothing else to do but remove the extra sticky fly covered mess from her back. So I pull, and tug and come away with a fly strip and half a cat worth of hair (anybody else picturing a backwards mohawk?)  but I leave behind a sticky hairy mess (a backwards mohawk with spiked edges?!).  So I grab a washcloth and a bar of soap -  Irish spring to be precise (top o the marnin' Cleo!) - and try to clean the sticky off the cat. Cleo at this point is quite happy to go back to eating breakfast (did I mention I call her Fatra?). I however am concerned about the sticky poison laced glue that is still matting her fur and that Cleo will try to lick off later.


The soapy wash cloth did not do the trick. After breakfast is finished and Cleo reappears upstairs, we try the brush to remove the sticky (because a glue wadded cat brush is just what every house needs!). While this method removes a good bit of the loose hair that the original removal of the fly strip didn't accomplish (tidied up the mohawk), it does not get rid of the dreaded "sticky." We snag another wash cloth, and a different soap - dish washing soap this time (I'm sure this was a Joy.  Get it?) -  and now the cat is damp, soapy, AND sticky (But she smells great!). There is nothing I can do for it;  I have to get to work, and the cat will have to stay sticky until I get home. Hopefully the two different soaps will at least rid the glue of most of its poisonous quality (and what cat wants to lick glue AND soap off her fur?).

After a tedious day I get home and the cat is still sticky. While making dinner I discuss the problem with the hubster. Thinking out loud, I suggest that since peanut butter is used to get gum out of hair, perhaps it would work to remove fly strip glue from a cat (Peanut butter hairball anyone?).  Hubster thinks it would be a bad idea because it would leave the cat messy and greasy(and that's any worse than soapy and sticky how, exactly?!) .  I remember that the dog loves peanut butter better than steak (loves it?  He's obsessed with it!  Ate a whole jar if I remember correctly!), and realize that having a peanut butter flavored cat running around the house is probably not a good idea (but they would both get their exercise!).

Enough pondering.  Time to solve the problem. I turn to the all powerful GOOGLE. After a quick search, I run across a post from a gentleman asking how to remove fly paper glue from his wife's hair. They had also unsuccessfully tried the same soapy remedies that I had, but there were many posts that suggested oily substances like baby oil, or mineral oil to remove the glue. Brainstorm! I have spray olive oil in the kitchen. Non-toxic and it just might get the sticky off the cat (how that doesn't attract the dog too I'll never know.  Olive oil - steak?).


A few sprays is all she will tolerate after a day full of indignities (ya think?!), and she goes hiding behind the couch. When she reappears, we try a quick couple passes with the brush (good thing it didn't work the first time!) and we have an oily, but not sticky, cat.  I think that she is trying to pass it off as hot oil treatment.

The moral of the story....spray olive oil removes fly paper glue from a cat.

No my darling sister.  The moral of the story is that, Google is a mom's best friend when dealing with child induced disasters.  Oh and humor tolerates a multitude of disasters.

Come on out Camera Man!

I have learned so much about my children this summer. 

Orangutan knows no strangers and has no idea what "family business only" means.  She will talk to anyone about anything all day long.  Whether they want to hear or know it.  Yes, it IS embarrassing.  And if you don't know all about our vacation to PA then you don't live within a 15 mile radius.

Rhino is all boy.  From naked happy dances to non stop eating to just general grossness, he couldn't be more boy if you pumped him full of 'roids.  And no, that's not an invite.  Heaven knows, he's already moody enough.

But the focus of today is Marmoset.  I believe I have shared in the past that the fellows at Lion's old office used to call her "Hollywood" because she never showed up without her shades.  Well, she is definitely headed for "Last Comic Standing." 

She insists that someone go to the bathroom with her every time she has to go.  The whole time she is in there she is making faces and talking in weird voices and telling me stories that would make me roll on the floor if it wasn't the bathroom.  Yesterday she felt the need to inform me that her behind had exploded and she really didn't want it put back together.  "'Cause I like it like this!  And I won't need unders!"

I really looked up to see where the hidden camera was.  I mean someone has to coach a kid to say these things, don't they?  And to say it in a 65 year old smoking bartender's voice at the same time?  I mean really.  Lion had to have signed some reality TV contract behind my back.

I wonder what I will have to do to get voted off the island.

Monday I'm Driving a Bulldozer.

I mean it. I am going out this weekend and buying a small bulldozer (they make those, right?) and I am driving it through carpool on Monday.

It's not rocket science people! You put your number in your front window. You show it to the teacher calling the children out. They come out and get in the car. You pull away. People pull up behind you and repeat the process.

Your child can't buckle their own seat belt? Pull out of the way by the dumpsters so people can go around you.

Your child has lead in their butt and won't sit in their seat so you can move the car? Well, I put that on you. You need to encourage a sense of urgency in your child.

I don't understand. It's a pretty simple system but every day I end up sitting several minutes while someone farts around. The child doesn't come out when they are called. The parent insists on making sure the child is secured before even driving 10 feet out of the way. I think some of these people insist on hearing the full details of their child's day before they will put the car in gear.

So that's it. I'm getting my bulldozer and everyone has 20 seconds to get their child in and seated before I move them. I get two in and seated in that time and I know most of these folks only have one - I look for that stuff - so they are getting extra time. And if your child doesn't come out the first time they are called, you go to the end of the line. Maybe both of you will learn a lesson.

Maybe I won't BUY the bulldozer. I think a week long rental should be just long enough for people to get the hang of it. If I rent I won't get that depreciation hit when I trade it in for my Batmobile.

Zoo Talk and the Lesson of the Week

I absolutely promise you that all of these conversations/scenarios have happened within the last 24 hours. And now you will understand why I refer to it as a Zoo!

ZK (That's me): Son, did you ever get a tissue and take care of that thing earlier?
Rhino: Yup!
ZK: So the one I'm looking at now is new?

R: You betcha!

From the dungeon (aka playroom)
O: Why won't you let me play with you? You are the meanest brother EVER!!
R: Oh Ho! You think so?

(I think he took it as a challenge!)

M: Help! Help! Help! Help! Help! (running up and down the hall waving her hands above her head wide eyed and crazy like)

ZK: What are you doing?

M: He's gonna get me!!
ZK: Who?!

M: (looking around all 360 degrees) Well, now. Where did he go?

O: Hey Momma, you know the cartoon when Pebbles and Bam Bam got married?
ZK: No. Did Pebbles and Bam Bam REALLY get married? I did not know that!
O: (all seriousness!) Mom. You really HAVE to watch more cartoons!

And finally, the lesson of the week from The Zoo:
I know you don't like how he's playing the game, but you can't make people play the way you want them to all the time. Sometimes you have to just go play a different game.

I know some adults who could use that lesson too, but we'll save that for another day, shall we?

******

And on a completely different note: Book count for our bedtime reading Project? 20 since Saturday night. None have been chapter books since we are at the beginning of The Project and a few of those have been repeats (Marmie thinks we should read Skeleton Hiccups every night) but so far the kids are loving the project. Our bedtime routine has gone much smoother since they know at the end of it they get to pile on the big bed and read. Yay!! We will probably try to start adding some more chapter books and classics this weekend and into next week.

While we're talking about it, The Project still has no name. A few that have been rattling around in my head for your consideration? The Bunkbed Project (since the girls just got bunk beds). Or Project Goodnight Zoo (a little nod to Good Night Gorilla). Feel free to toss your name suggestions our way. We will probably poll next week.

The Mother's Curse

I know that I have mentioned "The Mother's Curse" several times in past posts. Remember "Reincarnation?" Or how about "Parenting Fatigue?" I'm sure I mentioned it.

Part of me assumed that everyone knew what "The Mother's Curse" was. The other half of me thought I had already written this post. But now that I look back I realize that while I have mentioned it in passing, I have never actually clarified what "The Mother's Curse" is.

The Mother's Curse - the moment a mother utters out loud, under her breath, in the back of her mind, or in a dream "Someday you will have a child and when you do that child will be just. like. you."

It is important going into the next few days that you understand The Curse. You should also understand that The Grand Keeper never hid from us the fact that she used it and used it often. At one point in our lives we knew two phrases. "Remember Rule #1" (I'll explain that later) and "Someday..." She got to the point that she didn't even finish it. She would just let out "Someday..." and we knew another layer had been added to our curse.

From time to time I will call The Grand Keeper and no sooner does she pick up her end, then chaos is all it's glory erupts at my house. The dog will start barking at nothing; Marmie will have issues getting to the potty in time; Orangutan will show up with another tragedy of some cataclysmic proportion; and Rhino will deny that he had anything to do with any of it while he scrambles to hide the evidence. About that time the washer will go off balance; the toilet will overflow and the dishwasher will go psycho and start beeping for no apparent reason. Smoke will roll from the stove and the condiment shelf will inevitably fall off the refrigerator door as soon as I open it dumping all the contents of the ketchup bottle on the floor that I finally had a chance to mop.

Grand Keeper in all her wisdom will undoubtedly say something witty like, "I see my plan is working. I'll talk to you later. Tell them I love them. And Someday..."

Now perhaps Grand Keeper was just that good at applying her curse. Perhaps I really was the loony bin in sneakers. Perhaps I am getting double whammied (another idea we will explore later). In any case, it's time. It is time for me to start dishing out my own helping.

Someday my little exhibits. Someday...

Up Down Side

Since the Orangutan and Rhino have gone back to school, I've had a lot more time to lavish on Marmoset and she is loving life!

It has it's goods and bads. Now she thinks she HAS to be with me 24/7 and has started to meltdown anytime I have to go somewhere without her. It lasts for about 45 seconds but those 45 seconds are stinkin' loud!! I mean hear it in the car at the bottom of the drive way with all doors and windows closed and the radio on loud.

On the good side of the equation is the fact that I laugh. A lot! Take today for example. For a full hour we played "Up Down Side." Very simply put she has to be upside down (so now you get it, right?) and tickled. I can prop her up against the back of the couch, stand her on her head or just hold her by her ankles. She doesn't care - as long as she is "up down side." Her laugh is infectious and as soon as you put her down to catch her breath and get the blood circulating again she is begging for more.

It's awesome to be entertained by things so simple. I guess that's one of the gifts of parenting. May all grown ups revisit the laughter and enjoyment of Up Down Side on a regular basis.

If the Reincarnation Thing Works Out...

My children are in for a world of trouble.

Now I don't believe in reincarnation. I think you get one shot at life and you had better make the most of it and make the biggest impact while you are here because you aren't coming back around. But let's just pretend for a minute that I DO get to come back around.

Orangutan should probably hope that I come back as a fish. Then I will be limited to water and won't be able to invade her personal space every minute of every day. When I come back as her child (because I would totally do that to her) I will beg for food constantly from about .26 nanometers away. I will hang on every body part every chance I get. I will repeat myself 12 times for every request and I will only have one volume setting - EXTREMELY LOUD!!

Rhino is in for an even better life when I come back as his child. He's praying I come back as something inanimate like a rock. When I get back to him I am going to throw myself on the floor and scream constantly. I will only speak in whine and I will dissolve into a puddle of misery if the dog even looks at me funny. I will also be prone to random fits of aggravation like pinching, kicking, swatting, hair pulling, and name calling, all of which will be conducted on the run. Sprint by annoyance, if you will.

But I'm saving my best for Marmie I think. She hopes I come back as royalty because then I will have to mind my manners and use perpetual decorum. No way, baby girl! I will burp at all the inoportune times. I will randomly run squealing through the grocery store. I will just stop and spin in circles in the middle of every parking lot. I will have limitless curiosity. Oh, and I definitely plan to be devoid of all notions of cleanliness. I will not put away any toys; I will color on everything (including any pets and myself) except the coloring books and construction paper. And I will be insane!

Wait. Now that I think about it, I might not have to come back after all. I can just keep plotting until I'm about 82 and then move in with them for 4 months at a time! I'll rotate homes and work my magic!

Forget the Mother's Curse! I'm going for the Mother's Revenge!!

I Blame the Fever!

I actually had a brief moment today when I almost called Lion and said, "If our house was one room bigger I would consider having another baby."

I told you I had The Crud!!

I was driving with Marmie and her pal who hangs out with us every month, to snag the big exhibits from O/R.A.T. and something about driving past the golf course made me think that I wasn't insane enough. It was a good morning and the girls had taken a two hour nap so maybe it was a set up.

Then we got the touring exhibits in the livestock trailer and my fever broke. Orangutan was talking a mile a minute. Rhino was pouting about something. Marmie was scolding Spare and Spare was reminding me for the 9,427,836th time that her handler was coming to get her and was bringing chocolate milk when he did. It was chaos on a stick.

Then we got home and Orangutan had homework. The two little ones had to make potty rounds. Rhino had a temper tantrum because he wanted to play with playdough and couldn't until O finished homework and I was trying to put dinner together. Did I mention that Security decided he needed to go outside and bark at every squirrel, hickory nut, and bothersome leaf for 45 minutes?

I was in mid chop on a pepper when I started to laugh uncontrollably. For a brief little moment I actually thought a fourth child would be a nice addition. How soon we mothers forget spit up, midnight feedings, teething, blow outs, projectile peas, and baby proofing for a crawler. And that's even after the hearburn, feet in the ribs, pogo jumping on the bladder and tree trunk cankles of pregnancy.

So my fever has broken. I am still resolutely set against adding a fourth. Until the drugs wear off anyway...

And School is Back in Session.

Duh, ZK. You've only been talking about it for two weeks. But now I know it for sure. Want to know why?

Because Lion is huddled under half the blankets in the house shaking like a leaf and I am sitting at the computer in full congested mode while our little angels sleep the wee hours away blissfully unaware that they are killing their parents in their sleep.

Ok, so maybe that last part was a little dramatic but you get my point. My little exhibits have gone out into the wide open world and brought back - The Crud. And since I have been in the Lysol haven I call my home all summer and Lion has been in his nice and tidy office all summer, we have no immunities built up to this.

Why aren't Orangutan and Rhino sick you ask? Well, Rhino is having a minor flare up with his asthma but it's nothing some well placed steroids can't fix. Yeah, Mrs. F is loving me right now. Take a kid who isn't off to the best behavior start of the school year and juice him up on roids so that he becomes a ricocheting eating machine and you are sure to win your teacher's heart.

I definitely need to take a second mortgage for her Christmas present this year.

And Orangutan. This child has the immune system of steel. I swear you could have put her in a public restaurant in Cancun over spring break and she would have come home two weeks later perfectly healthy and ready to rock. I attribute it to the three years of day care. She was exposed to everything and her little body sucked it all up, mutated the fool out of it and added it to the immunity arsenal.

But that leaves a shiny little question mark known as Marmie. She isn't showing the first sign of sniffling, restlessness, grouchies, or even a hint of a cough. How? She has had no exposure to community living like daycare. She sleeps in the same room as O. She usually forgets whether it's her cup or Rhino's. So how has she escaped The Crud? This is a wild mystery.

I guess it just means that it's time to renew our stock options in Tylenol and Kleenex, shoot up the saline drops and start the OJ IV's. It's going to be a long fall because next month ragweed season starts and it's party on for ye olde allergies.

One more thing before I go make some scalding tea for my Saharan throat. Do you know what the one constant will be in all the snotting and coughing? Mom will go on. Because we all know, once you become a mother "You Will Never be Sick Again!"

Sing with me!

Wash, wash, wash your hands.
Wash the germs away.
Rinse them neatly down the drain
And wash your cares away!

I think you're supposed to do that three times for optimal clean. Happy cold and flu season gang!

Parenting Fatigue.

I have it. And an extreme case at that.

It's that disease that strikes most parents (unless they are bona fide saints). The days when your children's fights, whines, screams, questions, behavior, and general nonsense seem to pile up and no matter how hard you try to keep smiling and being patient and laughing and wearing a positive attitude, you just can't pull it off.

You see the clock creeping ever closer to bedtime and you giggle a little more with each passing minute. And you honestly feel bad about it.

That's me. Only I stopped giggling yesterday (right about the time Rhino barfed) and am now gleefully skipping about the house namby pamby with every passing minute. It's the spirit of honesty; it took me away for a minute.

Rhino has had a hard start to school and we are trying desperately to make it work for him. But when I say we, I mean me. It's not Lion's fault. He has a new position at work and is taking on a slew of new responsibilities and as a result is working horribly long hours. Thank you Lion! You rock! Even so, the dealings with school are on my shoulders.

And his teachers (now THERE'S a pair of saints!), Mrs. F and Mrs. A, have been trying everything they can think of and some tricks from other teachers to get him settled in and on the right path. So I have support.

But it's wearying just the same. Don't forget that I have Orangutan and Marmoset still here too. I didn't auction them off (but bidding is still open). They are into all manner of nonsense too. O has homework this year! We are practicing sight words, writing, letters of the week and doing art projects for classroom decor. Marmie is trying to potty train and is getting into all her siblings things while they are at school.

On top of that you have the security dog, who can't leave the stuffing in anything in the house; all the normal housework (which is amplified by discarded stuffing); lunch packing; therapy baking (which has been desperately needed); and the carpool line. And that's on the days when I skip a workout.

I am beat.

But then I think of my pals who do all that plus a full time job, soccer, baseball, football, band, dance, gymnastics, and/or karate, and I am in awe.

Here's a Mom Tip for you. Parenting Fatigue is normal and ok. Eventually they will grow up, move away and have children of their own.

Lay on the Mother's Curse well and often! My mom did; I blame her for my fatigue.

Call out HazMat!

The Zoo is going out for dinner!

(Fer, you should feel better about Z's dining experience in about two minutes.)

God, please bless Ms. A and the whole team at Longhorn tonight. Really! Bless them and keep them and send Ms. A some serious tips. Oh, and the people who were sitting beside us. Bless them and let them never be in a restaurant at the same time as us ever again.

Let's back up to 9 PM last evening. The Grand Keeper and Great Silverback were headed home from vacay and had a 3 hour layover here in The Big Peach so I packed up the livestock trailer and took the exhibits on tour to the airplane port (per Rhino) to visit for an hour or two. After a delightful dinner of Wendy's kids meals and a follow up frosty and lightening of Silverback's change pocket, we put them back on their plane and headed back to the Zoo. (BTW, yes, that dinosaur is actually in our airport.)

We were about halfway home when Orangutan said, "Momma! My tummy hurts really bad!" The livestock trailer broke the sound barrier and a few suggested speed limits and we got home just in time for her to make it to the bathroom and lose her dinner. (You're welcome!) I got everyone into jammies and into bed - for a few hours.

3 AM - Lion up and wide awake for no apparent reason.
5 AM - O up and repeating her 9 o'clock exercise.
6 AM - Rhino up and coughing so hard he couldn't catch his breath.
7:30 AM - Marmoset up and craving some serious breakfast. "But I hungy NOW Momma!"
10 AM - L.M. Lion sets out for a golf outing with some friends. Note - he is supposed to be home "around 3." Apparently that was 3 in "man time."

All day was checking fevers and listening to Rhino bark. O finally broke around noon and was good to go. Rhino is still barking. L.M. Lion finally got home at 5:30. I snagged Marmie and Rhino and sprinted to the grocery store. I think I set a record for getting through the grocery store with children in tow.

Now we were off to meet Lion and Orangutan for dinner at Longhorn. We sat down and ordered and had some witty banter with Ms. A our waitress. It looked like the day was going to be saved. Ms. A brought our seafood au gratin appetizer and everyone was munching away on some chips when I hear "The Bark."

Some of you may know The Bark. It's that cough that tells every mother on the planet that we are no longer just coughing. I couldn't get out of my seat fast enough. Suddenly Mount Rhino erupted right into Lion's hands. And not just once but several times. I tried to shield the table of people who were in our section. Lion even looked at one of the people at the table and said, "Please don't look!"

The manager, two waitresses and a bus boy were launching rib towels, hot napkins, not so hot napkins, paper napkins and sanitizing cloths at us like we were on Omaha Beach. And the carnage deserved it. It was hideous. And I was mortified. Of course right in the middle of all the chaos, Orangutan and Marmie (who we are trying to potty train right now) pipe up with "We need to go potty!"

I get back from the bathroom with the girls just in time for our food to show up - not that I was in any mood to eat. And so we calmly (as if nothing had happened) ate our dinner. Even Ms. A acted like nothing had happened. It was surreal!

Lion decided that he wanted to have an after dinner coffee. Marmie was getting restless so she hopped up in my lap and was cuddling with me while he had his coffee. Suddenly she started to freak out on me. "Oh No Momma! I go pee!" It's ok baby. You have a pull up on. Except this time it leaked. On who?

I burst into hysterical laughter. The people behind us took two looks at my dripping leg and started to giggle. Ms. A came to the table to hand Lion the check and she offered to go get me an apron from the kitchen. Lion just waved her off and said something to the effect of "If it isn't on her now, it will be before we get home."

Something tells me that future meals from Longhorn's will be carry out. If they don't ban us from the restaurant, they will certainly offer us a discount to eat somewhere - anywhere! - else. That said I really must commend the staff. They had every reason to bring our food and run for the hills. But they didn't. The went out of their way to salvage our dining experience and the experience of the other folks on our section.

So thank you Mr. B, Ms. A and all the crew at Longhorn's. Next time we'll bring drop cloths, raincoats, and a fire hose to clean up after ourselves.

Talk me Down People!

I mean it! Send the intervention team because I am teetering here!

Yesterday the Rhino had a less than stellar day at R.A.T. And when I say "less than stellar" I'm really saying he lost his ever lovin' mind. We won't get into the nitty gritty details but the bottom line is that military school is looking like a real possibility. When I referred to his punishment as "solitary confinement" yesterday I was being kind.

Once I calmed down (close to midnight last night) I worked with his teacher to devise a behavior chart and reward system which we launched today. This week there are cool underpants and ice cream hanging in the balance. Don't think about that too much; it's gross. But now I have to devise some rewards for going forward.

Lion put some time at the driving range on the block since Rhino seems to have an affinity for golf. And we always have good ole Monkey Joe's and Chucky Cheeze that we can put up for bids (although I would rather have bamboo shoved under my fingernails). But even that is only 4 weeks' worth of rewards.

I was commiserating with a friend this morning about the whole deal. In the process of conversation we started talking about our attempts to get some speech therapy for the little guy. Yeah, he's a mess; but he's ours. My pal suggested that maybe if we can get the speech going he'll feel like he's in control of something else and his behavior will start to settle down.

My brain said "hmmm, give him something else to control." And this is where the intervention comes in because the next thing that went through my brain was, "What if I get him a small pet that is his responsibility? His thing to control!"

In an ideal situation, the security dog doesn't eat the new small pet. In an ideal situation Rhino feels a responsibility for his new pal and he feeds it and helps clean the cage and takes care of it. In an ideal situation the girls don't get jealous and demand their own "responsibilities" which (knowing my luck) could lead to more "little responsibilities."

This Zoo is not conducive to "ideal situations."

This is a bad idea, right? I really shouldn't do this. I should just stick to ice cream and M&M's and Happy Meals. Talk me down friends because in my desperation not to be known at the mother of the school lunatic, the idea of a George and Gladys is appealing to me right now.

I should probably go eat. It has to be the low blood sugar talking.

Free to a Good Home

One boy.

Gently used.

Very good with younger children and animals.
Enjoys trains, trucks, and dirt.

Merely needs room to run, perpetual feeding and an owner with no sense of smell as his idea of good hygiene is limited to wiping his hands in his hair.

Will consider a trade for a large lazy dog.

This, my dear Rhino, is the ad that will run in Sunday's paper if you put me through another day like today.

Happy Mother's Day!!

What? You didn't get a card? So sorry. I didn't get one either but I'll tell you what I DID get. Two children off to school!

Woo Hoo!!

Don't get me wrong. I got a little twinge when my boy went to class and hung up his backpack like a big kid. And I was incredibly proud when my girl found her name tag and sat at her table sweetly.

But let me tell you about walking into my house and hearing......

It brought a tear to my eye. Nothing. Yes, Marmie is still home with me but she was revelling too. She stretched out as big as she could get on the couch while she watched whatever cartoons SHE wanted to watch. Then she just walked in a big circle all around the livingroom. When Lion asked her why, she said it was "because I can." She got to have both beaters and the spoon and the bowl when the cookies were baking. She got to pick a movie and watch it from start to finish. She choose her own lunch. And she got to decide when she wanted to go for a nap.

I am cleaning the house and it's staying clean. I get to work out without anyone hanging off my leg in Warrior 3. I can eat an entire lunch without anyone calling me to break up a fight.

And now you understand why THIS is my Mother's Day! I'm so gleeful I rewrote "Leavin' on a Jet Plane." I won't subject you to my singing but I think you know the tune enough to sing it for yourself and truly appreciate it.

So here's to you my Back to School mom-pals. Enjoy your day!!

"They're Leavin on the School Bus."

All their bags are packed.
They're ready to go.
I will not throw them out the door.
Can't wait to wake them up to say "Good-Bye!"

Now the clothes are pressed.
The shoes are shined.
The alarms are set.
And ready to chime.
Already I'm so giddy I could fly!

So kiss me and smile for me.
Quick say "Cheese!" before I flee.
God bless ya, teach but I really gotta go.

They're leavin' on the school bus.

The quiet's setting in.
Finally the warring's at an end.
The summer has been real fun.
Sorry kids but now it's done.

It's back to school - the truest Mother's Day!

The truest Mother's Day!

Dear Fellow Homeowners,

When you are preparing your home for the market (because you probably won't die in the house you're in) you will probably do some painting. Take a moment as you complete each room and label the leftover paint according to the room it belongs to. Please also note the color and store where the paint was purchased and leave it behind. The future homeowners will kiss the ground you walk on.

"Why" you ask? Because when their 4 year old takes a black wide tip Sharpie and creates a mural of blood curdling proportions on two walls they will be able to locate the necessary paint to repair the damage quickly and easily. This will not only spare your homeowner the pain of snatching themselves bald, but may also save the life of the 4 year old in question.

This has been your public service announcement for today. Thank you and happy home ownership!

And the Crown Goes to...

Princess Badditude!

I thought I had at least 7 more years. I thought I could make it until she was at least 12. I don't think I could have been more incorrect.

In the last week, Orangutan has taken on the nastiest attitude ever. A friend of mine warned me that it's a five year old thing but I'm wondering. Ugly!

Please make your bed.

"But you know I can't make it by myself." And then she'll wait until I turn to do something else and slip out of her room altogether leaving the bed unmade. When I call her out on it, I get argument, excuses, eye rolls, stomping feet and heaving sighs. OVER HER BED!!

Please clean up the playroom.

"I didn't play with any of this stuff. I'm not cleaning it." This is the part of the story where I find the attitude adjuster and apply it liberally to sensitive areas.

Dinner's ready!

"Mom, you know I don't do peas." Well you do if you don't have teeth, sister. They mush!

What IS this?! The last two weeks have been perpetual arguments, wails, crying, tears, gnashing of teeth, and hair pulling. And that's just me trying to get her to do anything that isn't her idea.

I hate that I have become that mother that is counting down the days til school starts but that's me. All me. And I say it's because she's bored with me and if she can go to school she'll be able to interact again and she'll have a better attitude in general.

We all know it's because I won't have to hear it all day, every day. I'll be limited to a few hours every evening. I'm not terribly worried about her pulling this at school. She knows better. Be ugly to Mom and that's one thing. Sass anyone outside of the family and I will light you up little girl!

My hope is that the rumor I heard about 7-10 being good years is true. I think I can refrain from sending her to the convent for a couple more years.

Mother Mortification 101

Brought to you by the experts at Zoo Suburbia.

Where do I even start? We had orientation for school today. Did I mention that they go back to school in 4 days? (Insert giggles of glee here. But more on that later.) Orientation meant taking two bags of supplies and three children through a maze of PTA booths, car rider assignments, and two different classrooms while filling out form upon form and trying very hard not to lose anyone. Is it any wonder I popped some preemtive Excedrine on my way out the door?

We got to school just fine and parked in BFE of course because even though it was only for kindergarten and pre-k, there were still cars out the wazoo parked on every available parking surface and some grassy surfaces. This meant that the exhibits had to try to hang on to one another while I lugged the two supply bags across a crowded parking lot dodging cars still pulling in and not losing any shoes (don't ask - the girls have issues).

I made a judgement call as soon as we got in the building. Everyone was streaming to the right to go do the PTA/cafeteria thing in the cafeteria. Ahh, but I know where Rhino's class is because he's in the same class O was in last year. So we stopped there first. Dropped off our supplies, did our paperwork thing, signed up for all the volunteer stuff, wrote the e-mail down about 17 times and gave Mrs. F our hugs. We'll be back when we get the car rider number. And off we went.

Then it was time to face the cafeteria which I just knew was going to be the first place I lost a child. Paid up my PTA dues (which I have never attended mind you!), passed by the cafeteria ladies becasue we pack our lunches and then hit the classroom assignments for Orangutan. Really?! Of four teachers with names like Smith and Brown and Jones, O ends up in the class with the teacher whose name has 11 letters and which I cannot (even know having shaken her delightful little hand) pronounce. She's Mrs. M to me. I'll try but I make no promises.

So it's off to Mrs. M's class. We pass our supplies off to Mrs. K (the assistant teacher) and start making the paperwork rounds - again! More volunteering (Lion this time - he's going to love me!), more e-mail, more, more, more. Meet Mrs. M and then we are off!

One more stop on our way out the door to get this year's spirit wear (school T-shirts). I have, in all this forming and moving and shuffling, yet to lose a child. I stopped at the spirit wear table and lost all three in 15 seconds. I kid you not! Oh good! There's O. Where's your brother? Perfect he's right there. So where is Marmie? No Marmie. Don't panic. It's a crowded school. No one is going to let her get away. Don't panic. WHERE'S MY MARMIE!!!!

Oh look! There she is. In the arms of the new principal nursing a fat lip and smelling like a garbage truck. Fantastic. Just fantastic. She made a break for it and in the process tripped over someone and did a face plant right in front of the new principal. Her lip was split and she had thrown a stinky shoe all while making a mess in her diaper. Did I say "fantastic?" So I retrieved her from the principal and made my introduction and tried not to look like a totally inept parent. And by now I had lost the other two again. The preemtive Excedrine didn't stand a chance.

I felt like I couldn't get out of the school fast enough. I made it within 15 yards of the livestock trailer before we ran into parents we knew from last year. So I made of VERY quick small talk and by now had lost Rhino yet again.

It took all my focus, energy and determination to put the car in reverse instead of drive. The tree didn't deserve to be punished for my blossoming migraine.

Is it Monday yet?

The Marmoset has hit the Radar!

And with a giant SPLAT at that!

See she used to be "the good one." Orangutan and Rhino could be having a knock down drag out war and she would be sitting quietly with a toy or her blanket. The two big ones would trash the playroom and she would be sitting in a corner with some blocks.

That all changed this weekend.

I accidentally took a nap on Friday for the first time all summer. She took the opportunity to find a ball point pen (probably the only one that worked in our house) and pull a Picasso on the back of our taupe microfiber armchair. And we're not talking about a small smiley face. Nope. Full on mural stuff!

Saturday was mostly without incident. Or I haven't found any evidence yet.

Then yesterday she pulled out all the stops. Lion and I were watching some golf from the couch and she was downstairs playing with Oranugtan and Rhino. Lion got up for a drink and walked through the dining room. A certain Marmoset had slipped up the stairs with a teal marker and "repainted" the yellow dining room wall. At least the bottom four feet. Thankfully it was washable marker and we caught it as soon as it happened.

Surely she was done, right? We got through the rest of the evening without incident and I put everyone to bed. Marmie wasn't having it so she got up and was hanging out with Lion playing with dolls. I came to the office to return some e-mail and was about to call it a night when I heard, "What have you done?!?!?!?!" This was quickly followed with "Honey! Come up here!!"

I walked up the stairs looking for yet another mural but none was to be found. I worked my way down the hall until I came to our bedroom and then our bathroom. Marmie was standing in the doorway looking down. Lion was standing in the middle of the room looking down with his mouth hanging open.

A tube of open and now half empty apricot face wash. A tube of open hair gel only a quarter empty. The face wash was everywhere from the counter to the cabinet and scrubbed into the carpet. The hair gel was limited to the edge of the counter and some in the carpet. Apparently she had been busted before she could really get styling.

I have to say she has been apologetic after every event - not that that helps that much. I have managed to restore everything except the chair. But it is clear that Marmie is on the radar as Princess Destructo. This will thrill her fellow exhibits to no end. Maybe they will be able to get away with some stuff again if I'm distracted.

In the meantime, my bathroom is showing significantly reduced pores and full bodied carpet!