Merry nanny.

Even with all of my time off in November for extenuating circumstances, my family was more than gracious about letting me go for Christmas. T did offer to host my family and provide and turkey and a ham just to keep me from leaving, but when I turned her down she dealt with it very nicely.

I had a brilliant idea during the four hours it took me to pack on Saturday night.

First, I thought I could put the Christmas presents in my standard suitcase and stuff my clothes somehow into a duffel bag or something. Then, when I tried this idea out I discovered that my presents would never, ever fit into that suitcase. I would have to use my GIANT suitcase with the broken wheels and the bent handle and the questionably sturdy zipper.

It was a scary thought.

But I could fit all my stuff into the one bag. My clothes, my book, the gifts, everything.

So, I opened it up and started putting in the wrapped boxes. Then, I spent an agonizingly long hour trying to make actual outfits since I couldn't pull my usual stunt and just through a bunch of crap into a bag way bigger than I needed.

But even with my frugal packing I was wary of stuffing the suitcase. That zipper is really not dependable.

The sister suitcase to this one died in Africa, after being forced to close around way too much stuff and then molested by airport security. She never made it back from Uganda.

I stood there for a long, long minute thinking hard and coming up with nothing. Then my eyes fell on the pile of unused Space Saver bags that I had been storing inside this useless suitcase.

Genius.

I packed my clothes the best way I knew how and zipped up the suitcase.

I was done.

It was 2am.

I got up at 5:30.

And I got dressed and was miserable and I called a cab and was miserable and I caught my train and was miserable and then .

AND THEN.

Well, then, I had to walk from Penn Station to Port Authority with this cursed suitcase. Going up and down escalators, dragging the broken wheels across dips and cracks in the sidewalk. And it was windy. And morning.

Ugh.

I cheered up on the bus and tried to nap before I was off to church and then into the whirlwind of activity that is an American holiday.

So far, so good.

I've been with family ever since and we are headed off tomorrow to be with friends who might as well be family. I have a replacement luggage set that was a gift from my mother to replace my horrible suitcase, so things are looking up. I'm back to work Monday, so have a nice week!

MeRrY cHrIsTmAs!!!!!

Never a dull moment.

For real.

Chanukah is wrapping up, so the barrage of cheap, crappy presents from extended family has ceased. I have felt even more like myself this week than last week, which is nice. My setbacks come in the form of decreased brain function.

I have been forgetting so much. Where I put things, which kids are home, who had baths in the last four days...

Dinner, lunch, to get up on time in the morning.

To charge my phone, when the library books are due, if the dog has peed, if Monkey has peed.

The simple fact that I am working, the fact that I have to also pee sometimes...you see where this is going?

In the moment, I am fine. I am great even. But where did my memory go? I feel like Dori the fish. Today I couldn't remember the grocery list, and I can usually rattle that thing off like it's my job. OH WAIT IT IS.

I have the worst writer's block of my life, which is especially awful because writing is how I vent.

But the good news is, my boss is right there with me.

Her back went out while I was away and it never came back. She's had a shot and some pills and the baby no longer gets breast milk, but she's not 100%, so we both just make it through the days by the skin of our teeth and then we crash at night without another thought.

So then, today.

Today, T forgot her happiness and I forgot that the washing machine drains into the laundry room sink and nothing should be in there when I throw a load of dirty towels in.

Today was the first Sunday since I've been home that they asked me to work. T can't lift the kids or baby and I am going away for Christmas soon, so we're soaking up our time together.

We spent the morning eating bagels and trying to ignore the kids.

We spent the afternoon spread throughout the house, doing our own things, making sure the kids were occupied and semi-quiet and at least partially fed.

E spent the day on the couch.

A little while before dinner, I rounded up all three of the bigger ones and we went downstairs to play in the basement playroom.

I have been so excited because the basement is finally clean and put back together and my room looks so cute and I am home to enjoy it and everything was just lovely. So the kids ran down the stairs all happily and I went down and thought, oh let me move those towels to the dryer since I'm down here.

The washing machine isn't really draining properly after the last spin cycle, so it still had some water in the basin. I set it to drain again and then took a peek at the draining hose to see how much water was coming out.

Oh snap.

It was draining alright, right onto the blue towel that was clogging the sink.

Oh snap.

I looked along the floor under the sink and behind the other washer and dryer and didn't see any water.

That was a relief.

Then I went into my room to change out of my slippers. since it was 4:30, I thought maybe I should get dressed.

My slippers squished on the sopping wet rug.

Relief gone.

I left the mess there because, frankly, it was overwhelming, and I went to feed the kids dinner.

We were dining on leftovers and reading How the Grinch Stole Christmas, when it dawned on me that part of the reason my head is such a mess is that I am PMSing and the other part is because I have already mentally checked out for Christmas break.

All I can think about are Thursday, my next day off, and getting the heck out of here the following Sunday. For someone who was so relieved to be home a week ago, I am certainly antsy now. I cannot wait to give people the presents I got them, I cannot wait for the Christmas service at my home church, and I CANNOT WAIT TO GO TO NORTH CAROLINA AND HUG THE CRAP OUT OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL FRIEND I HAVE EVER HAD.

Someone slap me and make me focus.

It will be a miracle if we make it through this week without me or T losing a kid or forgetting a meal.

Even more surprisingly will be if I reorganize the linen closet that has been bothering me for two weeks.

Not nannying.

This has been, hands down, the longest and most emotional two weeks of my life.

I left my children behind quite suddenly to go be with my father in the hospital during his last days. My family rallied together and we all had quite an experience. We learned so much and were so blessed to have that time.

I stopped home from time to time to gather fresh clothes or change my shoes. For the better part of two weeks I was either in the hospital or at my mom's house.

Since this happened on the tail of our renovation, I missed the new fridge delivery. I also missed putting all the china and good dishes away in their new place, so I have to reorganize everything T touched. She agrees (haha) but she couldn't stand having it all out anymore.

My work family was so awesome during those two weeks. The only pressure I felt from them was to NOT come back until I was ready. She didn't want me rushing back to work on their account. And she also didn't want me coming back and then having to go again, or worse, missing time with my family that I would regret.

So. Awesome.

In the end, I was hesitant to come back to work, but after two rocky days back I felt so much better to be home and functional again. Even though every five minutes one of the kids asks me if Hannah (my sister) is coming back, they are glad to have me back and that makes me glad to be here.

This whole ordeal has made me realize how at home I am here. Part of this is because my mom has moved a few times and downsized her home, and part of it is how wonderful this family is and my job is, but I actually feel like I belong here and not in my mom's house for the first time in my life.

When I left for college, I lived with my sister, so Mom's house has always been my home base. Since I jumped kind of spontaneously from one apartment to another with friends, I had fun living on my own, but none of those were home either. Those were shared spaces with friends who I may or may not have been getting along with that day. Mom's house was still home.

But two weeks with eleven people in a one-floor, two bedroom, ONE BATHROOM house will make you feel like you want to leave. I think even Mom was ready to move out by the end of it.

So, home is where your mom is, but her house has lost its magic touch.

For a while at least.

And the good news is that I am so settled here that I felt immense relief at coming home and unwinding. I took a load off. Not of laundry though. I didn't do a load of laundry until I had run out of mismatched and odd pieces of clothing that E relentlessly made fun of. And socks. Once the socks were gone, it was all over.

So, I've been home for a week.

The laundry is caught up.

The house is clean and almost organized.

The kids have stopped asking me why I went away.

They have also stopped asking me if Hannah will be back soon.

Chanukah has started and I have eaten nothing but abgusht and latkes for 24 hours.

My room is put back together and I can find things again, like Christmas presents, which I wrapped with R's help and we like to go down there and just stare at the adorable pile of little, red gifts. Also, my hair brush.

My suitcase didn't fare very well through its travels. It was on its last leg (wheel) anyway, and all that back and forth was just too much. It is a replacement suitcase I acquired in Uganda when my last suitcase was murdered by airport security en route to Africa a few years ago (Ashley, I think it's disgusting that I can say "a few years ago" and we still haven't been back there). It seemed pretty sturdy when I packed it to come home, but if you've ever seen how I pack, you understand that I need top quality zippers and extra sturdy, steel reinforced lining.

It was choking up broken pieces of the vinyl bottom when I unpacked it a couple of nights ago.

RIP Betty Blue.

While I was gone Baby Munchkin started crawling full force. He was dabbling in it when I left, unable to get a good enough grip on the hard wood to really move, but two weeks later not only can he crawl like a master, he also stands on his own and walks while holding onto things. He also has an associates' degree and is looking into grad schools for next year.

His favorite food, which he also started eating a lot of while I was gone, is soup. All soup, he's not picky. But he HATES pears.

Hates them like this:

I put a spoonful in his mouth and his whole face cringes and he spits and gags and moans like he's dying. Then, when he's gotten most of it out of his mouth or unintentionally swallowed it, he tilts his head all the way to one side and looks at you with the saddest, most pathetic look of being betrayed and heartbroken.

It's usually this position which allows me to shove another bite of pears into his mouth.

Mwahahaha.

I have learned a lot during all this though, and I can tell the learning is not over. There's so much about myself and my life that I want to change as a result of everything that happened at my dad's bedside and in the days that followed.

I am going to be a better niece and cousin to my relatives. I am going to be a better volunteer in every area manageable. And most importantly, I am going to be a better child of God.

There was not a day in the last three weeks that I could have made it through without leaning entirely on Him. I have to talk about that. I have to share it. I have to.

Maybe not here, not in depth anyway, because it's more fun to talk, but I will say that I have never been more unsure of how those outside of Christ get up every morning. I can't figure out how those people carry on after trials in their lives. How do they settle the unrest that finds its way into your heart after losing someone you love? I really don't know.

I feel like the answer lies in self-focus and self-pleasing and God has been so careful to not let me go there this time. I've had my experience with that in the past and it's a quick fix that doesn't last.

I'm so grateful to God for making Himself my focus, and for hugging my entire family so close for those two weeks.

And I'm so thankful for all the children in my life, the ones I am related to and my work kids. They make bright spots in my life wherever they are most desperately needed.

T and I have been hanging out more than usually, talking a lot, and she asked me the other day, what I would envision myself doing if not nannying.

I said, well...I'd be in Africa.

"Working with children?"

Yes. Then I reminded her how I had been in college very shortly with the goal of becoming a teacher.

"Same thing." She said. "Same thing, same thing."

"Well, I worked in photography."

"Did you ever picture yourself doing that for a career?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!"

Her point was that OF COURSE I would find comfort and joy and peace from being around children; they are obviously what makes my life full. And so, after one week back to work, despite my hesitations, I am feeling better and better because I have an awesome God and awesome kids.

On with the nannying.

Eeeeelectricity.

We got it back in our house, but it's missing other places. A small percentage of New Yorkers are still without it in their homes.

And I seem to have none with my new "coworker."

I was just sitting down today to try to figure out a way to post my blogs to Facebook without the new nanny seeing them. You see, we spent last weekend cooped up in T's mom's house together and the Lord tested my patience with people I dislike.

I was able to be courteous and sweet-ish. I was able to make small talk and smile. Then our house was cleared for us to come back and I was the first one to run out the door to the car yelling, "I'll clean it! I'll clean the whole thing! Please! Let's just go!"

New Nanny friended me on Facebook over the weekend. It was one night when all the parents of our kiddos were out and we were sitting in the only sitting room in that house and I had my little baby snuggled on my arm and she was talking, which makes my ears bleed.

Stop.

I'm being too mean.

Quick, say three nice things.

She's developed a good relationship with her kids, even if I don't understand how.

She has clean hair.

She is a pretty decent dresser.

Ok, so, talking, waiting the night out, poor girl has been without power for nearly half the time that she has lived here... Me, trying to find a way out of the conversation so I could go to bed.

She sent me a friend request from the other side of the room, while I was holding my phone and clearly using Facebook. I had to accept.

I have a policy about not being friends with people on Facebook while I am working with/for them. I have made exceptions in the past, but I find that it is all around healthier to keep cyber-friendships limited to when I am not actually working with/for the people I tend to mention most.

I don't often say bad things about people on Facebook.

I'm not one of those girls (teenagers) who gripes about people who have "wronged" me or irritated me that day. Aside from the kids, I try not to mention any people (except my siblings) in a negative way online, at all. But I am not friends with my boss on FB, and I love her. I try to wait until after I am not working with people anymore, and then we can be online friends. It's just a matter of privacy, which, like I said, I have made exceptions for in the past.

That all being poorly said, trying to explain that to someone I genuinely don't like seemed like too big a cop out, so I accepted. I spent the next ten minutes taking down links to my blog, which, no matter how anonymous, would clearly explain to New Nanny how I feel about her.

I took down the links, stalked her a little and went to bed.

In the morning T asked me how the night went. Knowing and sharing my aversion to New Nanny, she specifically asked about that part of the weekend.

BIG SIGH.

I explained.

Only slightly better than I just did for you.

So, Sunday we were clear to go back into our house and clean it. Monday T's sister got power back and they all went home. Monday afternoon, T's mom let everyone know how tired she was from hosting them and went off the grid for a while. That lady is such a beautiful person. I love her.

Monday afternoon, T's sister had a conversation with her new nanny about something that could have only come from me; something I had seen on her FB page that was inappropriate and T had then seen for herself in our following conversation. I don't know how it went, only that New Nanny's response was to unfriend me.

Haha.

So, I no longer need to hem and haw about how to hide this blog from her.

But I did get a little perspective.

I did not do a good enough job being the light and the salt this weekend.

And I may have been too harsh here, taking anonymity a bit too far by using a public forum as my personal ventilation system. There's always a slim chance that someone I don't expect to read this blog might read it. I need to bite my tongue, or fingers or whatever.

And maybe I should have said something to New Nanny about the scores and scores of photos of the kids and their house, and the insides of their house, and the in-depth descriptions of the layout of the house and the kids real names all being on FB. I could have saved her an awkward conversation with her boss, but I still don't know if that would have been my place. I wasn't even going to say anything to anyone, but T's mind seems to be in sync with mine so she right away asked about photos on FB.

But it blows my mind a little that this needs to be addressed. This girl has no discretion at all. Remember when she met someone online in her first two weeks and invited them over to the house? Did I tell you about that?

It happened.

You just don't use the Internet so freely and casually. It's not smart. It's not safe.

I don't know how I should have handled my part, I just know I didn't do it right.

Another, less worrisome sigh.

 I have my privacy back.

And I think I will stick to my guns about that rule from now on.

Another thing I am going to be more stubborn about: listening to T's mom.

I do love her and she's so nice and so helpful and so giving, but sometimes her way of doing things really screws up my day.

She likes to give the kids little treats all the time, which is her rite as Grandma, BUT when we were there for the entire weekend the sugar high started to get to me. If the kids are bouncing around a room full of crystal, the solution is not Oreos. It's tranquilizing darts.

And when I am freshly showered and clean and dry, the best way to bathe J is in the tub, not in the shower with the door hanging open while I lean in and he screams about not wanting to take a shower. He wanted a bath, I wanted to give him a bath; I should have listened to myself that time.

But it was after the whole New Nanny fiasco and I was second-guessing myself about everything.

Anyway, we're home again.

Monday, the most wonderful cleaning lady in the world came over and helped start really cleaning the basement. I had the kids, so I didn't do anything except try to keep my sanity.

Tuesday, I was able to do laundry. I washed all the sheets and towels and cleaned the kids' rooms of the final layer of dust and soot. I opened all the windows and aired out the whole house, which is good, because a couple hours later the baby was diagnosed with croup and his prescription is fresh air.

Later Tuesday night, after a full day of following the contractor and his man around to make sure they painted the entire wall this time, E fired the contractor. This team was truly awful.

They painted only the worst parts of the walls and tried to blend it in. They installed two new outlets that don't work. They didn't sand the walls but put up the baseboard and there are very visible gaps in it. They damaged the new floor. All this in addition to already having damaged the counter tops, installing a new door that doesn't close properly, and doing severe damage to one wall and never fixing it.

Enough was enough. The bulk of the work was done, clearly details are not their forte, so E let them go.

We spent the night cleaning up the dust in the kitchen and carrying things back into the room to make it usable again. The foyer feels enormous without that table in it. And I have never been happier to see this stove, which I loathe. The new one has not been settled on and ordered yet.

The dishwasher has seventeen jets, T wanted me to say that.

The fridge comes a week from today.

My room is clean and functional and I began putting my things back into it last night.

I sprayed a silverfish to death with bleach on the far side of the basement before going to bed.

I made a shopping list for today and planned the last of my Christmas shopping.

It was an all-around productive night that didn't end until nearly one AM.

I heard the kids discover the kitchen this morning. They were wild with excitement. I laughed because they were happy, and also because I didn't have to deal with them, and then I went back to sleep.

I don't mean to brag...

But yes I do.

I had the best weekend with the best family ever.

Before that, we made it through the hurricane. Construction on our kitchen had halted for the weekend anyway and then the rain started on Monday or something. I don't know; it's all fuzzy now.

Anyway, we didn't lose power until later in the day, but we had already been using coolers in place of a refrigerator so all we really lose was light and heat.

We watched the wind and the rain for a while and then E filled the generator with gas and we cranked on the TV to pass the night. I would never deny that we are incredibly spoiled and blessed.

We had our trial in the form of hosting the extended family for the next few days.

On Tuesday, the mothers starting bringing over their food before it could spoil. By Tuesday afternoon, T's mom had cooked a feast and her sister had shown up with her kids and horrible nanny.

It is rare that I don't like someone, like, really, really don't like someone, but I don't like this girl and I need your prayers for staying on track as a Christian and being nice. Or at least polite. Some of you think I am nice naturally, but that's just not true.

No, really.

Anyway, on Wednesday the kids were getting tired of playing inside so T's sister took them off to a magic show. I was working, because I had the entire weekend off, so I spent the morning cleaning our floors, which had turned black once again from the soot lingering in the entire house from the work in the kitchen. By late morning, I was free for the day, to hang out with little baby D.

Unfortunately for me, T's sister had dropped off New Nanny with me.

Lazy Nanny had twisted her ankle on the stairs and was laid up for the afternoon. LAME. She spent the day sitting on our couch and being useless. At one point she asked me for food and after smothering all the completely rude and curse-word laden responses that popped into my head, I just told her food was in the dining room and ran away.

She also kept asking to hold the baby, who hates her and screamed horribly every time she did. I had to take him several times and calm him.

FINALLY, the rest of the family started to come in and I was relieved of my duty of entertaining Big Whiny Crybaby Nanny. E and T were just as fed up with New Nanny was I was and they couldn't believe Sister Dearest had dumped her on my all afternoon, electricity or not. Sister's reason was that their house was cold.

Boo hoo.

I promised T that if I ever "twist" my ankle on the job, during a week of crisis and a blackout, I will not need to go anywhere and I will probably keep working. Twisted ankles are not crippling injuries.

Anyway, we got through another massive family dinner and then shortly after it was over, the generator crapped out and the kids went nuts. I lit some tea light way up high on the mantel and T's sister started following me around telling me how dangerous candles are. I pretended to be deaf, because frankly in that moment I was losing my marbles and I really like my marbles.

Most of them are sparkly and primarily purple and I use them almost every day.

Anyway again, at the end of the night, E insisted that we did not need them to come back on Thursday. No one needed to come cook, no one was allowed to come use our house for leisure to "heal" from an "injury" and he politely asked T's sister to keep her three unruly children to herself.

Some lucky people in King's Point got their power back, so we didn't feel too guilty on Thursday because they had power or other places to go. We had a nice day.

Thursday night and Friday morning I tried really hard to pack for the weekend. I really did. I took a flashlight down to the basement and looked at my clothes and shoes and tried to put outfits together, but all I managed to do was grab an armful of clothes that I hoped could go together and run back upstairs.

Somehow, I got it together and did some work around the house to set T up for a peaceful weekend.

My sister, my youngest sister, turned 21 on Tuesday. On Friday she was coming into the city from Boston where she had been trapped for the storm and the days following while the buses were shut down. She didn't mind.

She got into town right on time and then agreed to take the train out to Great Neck because my kids were dying to see her. She got into the train station in a timely manner and then I called her a cab. She stood there forEVER and no cab came, so I finally asked E, who was making a run to his mother's house, to pick Hannah up on the way back.

They had a really hard time finding each other, probably because they both possess the communication skills of rocks and the common sense of, well, men.

She made it to the house at long last and the kids were all over her. J is a little bit in love with her and it's so fun to watch because he didn't even know what to do with himself.

When it was time for us to go catch our train, for some reason only me and T got up and tried to get going. E was driving us to the station since the taxis were MIA, but he had disappeared upstairs and Hannah was having trouble standing up and breaking free of the kids. We got out the door with five minutes until our train.

Miraculously, we made it.

Friday night, Hannah and my sister Brianne and I celebrated Hannah's birthday until we couldn't celebrate anymore. We went home giggling and cackling  (the cackling is mostly me but it is a family trait) and then spent Saturday morning sleeping in recovery.

My mom PROMISED us French toast and then didn't even make it because she is a mean, mean lady, but she did make us grilled cheese and soup, so I guess I take back one of those 'mean's.

My brother and his family arrived for the weekend and another of my brothers and his family came for the day and after the kids went trick-or-treating (which as we all know is really just treating in this day and age because the trick part is pretty illegal and frowned upon) the ladies went to the spa.

It. Was. Lovely.

Manicures and pedicures and a general good time were had by all and then Mom made everyone dinner and we played games until bed time.

On Sunday, I was Baptist for several reasons, not least of which because there is no gas anywhere right now and we couldn't justify using Mom's to drive into Hackettstown even though I miss my church family there sooooooo much.

So, stayed local and heard a PCA pastor preach at a Baptist church and it all made my heart happy.

Less happy, was riding the slowest bus in the universe home to New York and then waiting an hour in Penn Station because I juuuuuuust missed the 6 o'clock hour train and had to wait for the seven something.

I got home at eight something, to ride in a cab, whose company seems to have recovered, through a dark and creepy town which still has no power.

As per usual, our generator was running, no lights were on and the TV was on.

I chatted with E and T for a long time before I dared open my suitcase and try to get settled in the playroom once more.

I guess you could call what I am now settled because my clothes are all over the room again and I no longer know which ones are clean and which ones are not technically clean but I will surely wear again.

Tomorrow, the floor people for the kitchen floor and hopefully they won't blow our generator.

Hopefully.

Naysayers gonna naysay.

Today, T's sister threw a Halloween party.

She has been on the fence about it for a couple of weeks because some of the religious families around here are offended by it. But in the end, fun won out and she had the party. Last night, I forced the kids into making decisions about their costumes.

Monkey still wanted to be a kitty, which is good, because it's simple. R decided to be a witch, because she knows of my fondness for them. J opted to be a robot.

But he almost didn't get a costume at all.

This week, the contractors have made some progress. And then yesterday they weren't here at all. We had a day of peace and quiet.

I got one strange phone call for T at the house, and they didn't say who they were or anything, but they said they would call her cell. I wondered about it, but only briefly before I went back to being happy about my quiet, restful day.

We would be eating Shabbat dinner at T's mom's, who had just returned home from a week in Israel. She and T's father went without me even though I told them I wanted to come. So mean.

Anyway, since we would be eating there for a late dinner, I made some pasta for a snack and the kids and I sat around the kitchen table in the foyer and talked about our days. When I asked who had the best one, as usual, they all yelled to have the first turn speaking, and I let Monkey because unless he goes first, he just repeats what everyone else says or yells, "To the river!"

So, he rambled incoherently about a song or something and then it was J's turn.

"I got to go to the office today!" He exclaimed this with a big smile on his face.

"What?"

"I went to the office today. Coach B took me."

"J, going to the office is bad. That means you were doing something naughty. What did you do?"

"I don't know."

"Well, going to the office is not a good thing. It's very bad."

"It was cool."

Oh boy.

T got home a couple hours later and explained the phone call and J's confusion.

He had been spitting and saying bad words and standing and not listening on the bus on the way to school that morning and Coach B had been the one waiting at the school to take him to the office. He is not being allowed back on the bus.

So, basically he ruined our lives forever.

On the way to Shabbat dinner, the parents pried and got a few more details out of him. He still thought he was sooooo funny. He always does, and I should add in here, that when he got home from school he had been so bad I had put him to bed. He thought that was funny right up until I left the room and he had to go to sleep.

So, today rolled around and T told him he would get no costume for the party as punishment.

He cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and then she said, if she changed his punishment it would be something longer. He agreed.

He has been banned from the iPad and iPhones for a week, and I know for a fact that he is going to ask for it and then cry and freak out, but today when making that deal he was ok with it. He got his robot costume and we headed off to the party.

I looked fantastic.

So did T's mom, who was Queen Elizabeth, and a few other people. There was a family of Wizard of Oz characters. T's dad showed up as a monster but he changed when one of the babies started to cry.

Everybody was having a good time and the kids were all hyped up on candy and occupied, so I sat in on some conversations with T and the other moms. They were hiding in a corner talking about how some people were offended by Halloween.

When I said I had seen that in my church to, two Jewish heads looked at me in surprise.

"Isn't it a Christian holiday?"

"No," T said and I beamed because I have taught her so well. "It's a pagan holiday."

"But we don't worship the devil or anything." Another mom said. "So, why can't the kids dress up and be silly?"

Exactly.

Why can't they?

I know a lot of people who struggle with this holiday because of its roots, but allow me to just point out that all of our Christian holidays were pagan holidays first. Christmas was the winter solstice. The Christians changed it to show the pagans what was up. The same for Easter, which was the spring solstice. Technically, Thanksgiving was a pilgrim holiday, so that has the closest thing to Christian roots out of any of them, but it was still not started by the church or in a church or anything. It's more patriotic than anything.

So, what is wrong with taking Halloween, too?

Valentine's day was a massacre, for crying out loud. And we've turned that into romance. Don't ask me how. Americans are crafty.

So, to show all the naysayers what was what, T's sister threw her party and the kids danced and I looked fantastic and everybody had a grand old time.

So, here's to neutralizing Halloween.

Then, after the fun was over, we had to come back here to the money pit.

Today, the floor people tore out the kitchen tile and deposited five million tons of black dust and debris in my room, which was ready this time. The whole house was covered in dust, so we split the work three ways.

First, we left the two big kids at T's sister's.

Then, each female took one of the remaining two children and put them to bed while E stood around whining about being hungry.

Next, T asked E to watch the baby, who hadn't stayed asleep, while she wiped surfaces and I wiped floors. He obliged by putting the baby down and going into the bathroom for ten minutes. Baby D started to cry and T had to go tend to him.

E then stood around thinking while I mopped. T returned and we finished up. She gave him a little attitude for his method of help and he sighed. When she went upstairs to get dressed to go out, he shook his head.

"This is why people get divorced after they redo their houses."

I laughed.

"You need to work through it. Your homework tonight is to rewatch The Money Pit. Clearly, it's not fresh enough in your mind."

And then for my homework, I set up shop on my couch and watched a scary movie and did this.

Today was long.

News and such.

I'm doing homework with R. She's in kindergarten. My mind is a little bit blown, not only that she has homework, but by the amount of it.

I think it stands to reason that if my generation and the ones previous did not have homework in kindergarten, and that the generations are getting progressively dumber (they are) that this homework overload has got to be part of the problem.

I'm against homework at any level, aside from studying and paper writing. But kindergarten? Really?

She's five and she's already in school until 3 o'clock.

I find this to be mindbogglingly annoying.

Anyway, today's bout of renovation went well. So did yesterday's.

The kitchen looks twice as large with that one dividing wall missing. And today they put plywood down on the floor where there is no tile, so the rain of dust and debris in my room should ease up. The walls and ceiling are primed and look ready to go.

Old fridge is gone. A plumber came to stop the water line for an ice maker that continued to drip after the fridge was out and we couldn't find a valve to stop it. Much was accomplished.

And then E thought it would be convenient to have this crew take a look at a rotting support beam for the second floor porch. It turned out that not only was that one pole rotten, but the entire right side of the porch was on the verge of collapsing.

That needed some attention, so while we set up our coolers in the living room and stuffed all the cheese into the mini fridge in the basement, I took several vitamin C's to combat the cold the kids gave me and drank my body weight in tea and ginger, the crew got to work replacing beams outside.

They ran long, so we cooked some stuff from the freezer in the Foreman grill on a chair in the foyer and talked about our days.

So much has come up that E and T didn't plan for, but it's coming along nicely.

T missed a doctor's appointment for the baby yesterday in all the chaos and forgot to tell me the most wonderful news I have ever heard.

Because of my obsession with aiding Africa, all the kids have an obsession with it too. They talk about Africa and the children there who need help to go to school and get vaccines. They pretend they are going to Africa when they play games. They ask me when I am going again and if they can come. They want to send all their old clothes to African children who are smaller than them and can still wear all their favorite pieces.

So, T has started an African aid program at the school here.

I don't know what it entails yet; I'm not sure T does either. But YAY.

I love seeing things like that happen, and I love that my presence here is being used. God is amazing.

And wise.

Because every time I start to get restless about being here so long, He does something awesome like that to make me stay.

I'm watching Psych right now.

So, please, don't hold me responsible for any incoherent passages in this post.

It has been a long few days.

This week, our small kitchen modifications escalated into a complete kitchen makeover.

The horrible fridge being horrible is what sparked the whole thing. This fridge was purchased because it was all that fit in the nook. Now that it has been exposed as horrible, and GE has agreed to buy it back, E and T are ordering a new one. I may have told you this.

And I know I told you about our flaming dishwasher.

So, the new dishwasher is an inch taller than the current space, which will require cutting into the counter top or ripping out the 30+ year old tile beneath. So, while we were hemming and hawing about what to do about that, the construction team went ahead and ripped out the wall they were told to and it was discovered that there was no tile under the cabinet that had been against that one.

There was tile underneath the smaller cabinet they removed, but somewhere in that process they put a HUGE gouge in the counter top.

Then, E and T realized that our forty million year old stove will eventually need replacing, and the trend with these old appliances is that they are smaller than everything being made right now, which is weird, because all those commercials call them slim and sleek and compact and yet they LIIIIIIEEEEE.

Anyway, the good news is, our three to five day project turned two week project is now probably going to be a three week to one month project.

We're getting a new floor, because the team went ahead and destroyed this one. The fridge is being picked up next week, but the new one isn't coming until the construction is done, so we are going refrigerator-less for a while. A new stove is being picked out, new floors will come and yes, next week, my new dishwasher.

None of this really bothers me, except during working hours when the construction makes a lot of dust and we have to flee. But even that is kind of fun. There's nothing to clean, because it's all going to get covered in dust again in ten minutes anyway.

There's a lot of chaos and not a lot of food, but that's all well and good.

The roughest part of my week has been getting a handle on my horrible emotions. I usually keep them turned off, but sometimes things happen that make them malfunction and there's nothing I can do about it. I stayed home from Shabbat dinner last night to collect myself.

Today was better, and then after E talked us into not going out to dinner, the three adults ended up in the ripped up kitchen, eating all the food left in the fridge and drinking all the wine, whether it was in the fridge or not, and it was immensely therapeutic to toast them and laugh with them and just relax tonight.

Tomorrow, I get to go to church for the best kind of therapy. I can't wait.

Now I know.

I've been watching Psych for two days straight and I am so tempted to just write up all my favorite parts right here, but I'd rather finish writing this and get back to watching Psych.

We're on day two of construction, which explains why I have so much TV time. Without my kitchen to clean and cook in all day, I have had to find other ways to fill my time. Although, normally even while I'm in the kitchen I am watching something on my little phone.

But today and yesterday I had to watch TV on my phone while hanging out with the baby in the rooms that weren't being affected by all the dust construction creates. We had some good times. He showed off a couple of new moves, like pulling himself up from any position into any other position. He tries to stand, which is hilarious, because he can't. But he has mastered sitting up and crawling, which is awesome because he doesn't get stuck in the corner of the play pen anymore.

While I was watching Psych today, I reorganized R and J's closet with the Space Saver bags I finally talked T into getting. She found a huge set at Costco after I bragged about how wonderful mine were for a while.

I packed two huge shelves worth of too small and too big clothes neatly into one beauteous row on about two-thirds of one shelf. I should be in their commercials. These things are AWESOME.

After that was done, the kids started coming home from school and the hectic part of the day started. I managed to watch TV throughout getting their snacks and feeding the wee one. The new dishwasher was delivered this morning, but the plumbing was bad and so all afternoon, in addition to the construction crew, we also hosted a plumbing team and appliance delivery men who couldn't deliver their appliances.

We had the pleasure of admiring the giant hole in the side of the house where the door will go in tomorrow.

And then this evening, I got to go downstairs and look at my room all covered in dust and tarps and sheets.

Yesterday, we hadn't thought that part through and I left my room unprotected. When the took down the mud room wall, directly over my room/bed, my belongings were draped in dust and rubble.

I made the discovery and spent a good fifteen minutes screaming in shock as I beat dust off my camera and computer and shoes and clothes. When everything had been saved, I covered it all in sheets and promised to stop leaving it all so helplessly unattended whenever destructive forces came into the house.

But day two of construction ended with fewer surprises, and the kids gladly ate their second takeout meal in a row and then we herded them off to bed.

Tomorrow, I will need to pull a few more items from the kitchen to get us through the day. And hopefully we will have pizza for dinner, because we've intended to twice and plans have changed both times and my hopes are up, way up.

Tonight, I will go watch Psych and hopefully stop sneezing sometime soon and eventually I will go downstairs and get some pajamas and find a couch up here to sleep on.

Fire, snot and tears.

Ok, so the other day things got busy and I ended up with all three boys here while the weather was less than perfect and all the kiddies have been feeling under it. I couldn't put all those runny noses in a stroller to go get R, so T's mom came over a bit early to hang out before going to get R for me.

True to her anxiety disorder, she showed up a good hour early and spent her time smooching the baby while Monkey was sleeping and J was snacking and watching TV in the playroom. About ten minutes before T's mom needed to go get R, she started following me around the kitchen asking if she should go yet.

The school is seriously within two minutes' walking distance from our front door if you walk really slowly.

I was loading the dishwasher, texting and hand washing pots and pans while reassuring her she had time to spare, when the smell of smoke filled the kitchen.

I stopped washing dishes and took a gander at the dishwasher I had just started, and sure enough, smoke was pouring from it.

Still, I had the queen of overreacting standing behind me, so I just turned it off and pretended that was totally normal and returned to the sink until she left for the school.

Once she was gone, I frantically turned off the water and assessed the kitchen fire situation. But first, because this is the technology generation, I texted about it.

Nothing was actually on fire that I could see, but the dishwasher let a new burst of smoke into the room when I opened it up to inspect.

Finally, the dishwasher that has needed replacing since I started here, had kicked it.

I danced with joy and then closed it up again before T's mom came back.

E came home early that night so I could go out. I told him the "bad" news as I ran out the door.

Our other bad news this week: the contractor continues to tell us dates to begin our renovation and then never shows up, the refrigerator has been deemed unrepairable by GE, but we have yet to find a replacement unit and we have a time limit to do so, which we are going to miss if the renovation doesn't start, because that fridge BARELY fit into this house and we need the new door that is going to be added to the kitchen, in order to get the new fridge.

So, my kitchen is in a state of disarray and EVERYTHING that had been stashed in the mudroom is now all over the place.

Both mothers have been asking me what's going on and I don't want to be the one to tell them, so I stay busy and run out of the room whenever they are here.

But I had so much time off this week, that I can't really complain.

And I had another run-in with New Nanny and I continue to thank the Lord that I am not in her shoes.

Tonight I am working late, and since everybody still has sniffles, this requires me to run up and down the stairs at least four times an hour. The bigger three went down ok, and I turned on a space heater in Monkey's cold room, hoping to boil his cold out of him. He hasn't coughed at all, so I think it's working.

Little Munchkin, however, HATES to be hot, so he's in a sleeper and he cries every time I put a blanket on him. He also cries every time he rolls over, so I caved and he is now sleeping on the couch beside me.

Sick babies are too cute to ignore.

Ch-ch-ch-changes.

Judge me all you want, but I bought a new copy of All Dogs Go To Heaven at Target for $5 and I'm watching it right now. It came with its sequel but who cares about sub par sequels?

My old copy was the VHS tape we grew up with and it kicked it a few months ago when I unpacked it and tried to rewind it and the tape inside literally snapped in half. So, that was that.

I came home early from Shabbat dinner with three tired kids who were out late last night too. J was somehow miraculously hanging in there, so he stayed out with his parents. Last night he fell asleep at our outing but tonight he seemed to be holding up just fine when I left. Each child shines in a different place.

R prefers her grandmother's on her mom's side because she can play with better toys and run from room to room. J prefers E's mom because he has older cousins who dote on him and let him play on their iPhones. Monkey will take what he can get because he just wants to be allowed to go.

So the three with me are down and I am indulging in a children's movie that they haven't watched yet. Oh, I am also indulging in wine.

Yesterday was one of the worst days I have had here so far. This wine is my reward.

Baby D has been ruined. While I was away last week, he was picked up every time he started to cry. Now, I can barely put him down before he starts to cry. I spent yesterday trying to break him, but I also had all three of the others all afternoon and add them fighting and crying to his crying and the 784% humidity, I was horribly grouchy.

I told T I was thinking of selling the kids, to which she replied, "You can get a lot for them. They're cute." But didn't try to stop me. She was stuck at work all day.

I kept them only because my phone was dying and I needed my battery for the dinner party.

At T's Mom's house I got another dose of New Nanny, who I must say, I am not fond of. Should she friend me on Facebook, I will delete this paragraph and deny I ever said it, but she rubs me the wrong way.

Still, we made it through the night, passing the seven kids between us. I ate half a giant bowl of guacamole before starting on the challah. I noticed New Nanny spent a lot of time pushing this horrible beet salad around on her plate. At one point I asked her if she liked that salad and she said no and I told her no one did and she shouldn't feel bad sneaking it off to the trash and getting some of the other, wonderful food.

T's mom has been pushing this one particular salad on us a lot lately. She really wants us to like it. It's Persian and most of the Persian food is delicious but nobody, not even the other Persians, likes this dish and she won't stop making huge bowls of it at every party.

The kids got to bed so late last night that I fully expected today to be awful, but it wasn't.

They were all kinds of agreeable at breakfast time. I napped all morning and then T went to work and I had school pick ups all afternoon. Everyone came home happy and hungry and then we went to the playground. It had been so beautiful outside and it seems that everywhere else in the Northeast is now mosquito-free except Long Island.

So, in spite of myself, I was reminded why I hate this place, but the baby was doing so much better being out of my arms so I worked through it. We were at the playground for a while when J came running over to me, holding his little butt in his hands.

"Kimmy, I really have to go poo poo."

"Oh, yeah." R chimed in. "Me too."

The walk home is less than five minutes, but they both pooped their pants a little.

Fortunately, they're big enough to clean themselves up for the most part, so even THAT didn't ruin my day.

We had a snack and sang some songs before E got home and then T and the whole night began.

We were dressing for Shabbat, passing each other on the stairs and in the halls when T announced that construction would start on Monday in the kitchen.

"What is happening in my kitchen?" I was both scared and excited. I love change. I'm not one of those people who gets all settled in and never wants to lose control of anything. I'd like to lose control of EVERYTHING. Please, bring on the change.

We're losing the dividing wall between the kitchen and the mudroom to make the eat-in part of the kitchen actually usable. Right now the table and the highchair take up the entire corner and no one can get in there. We're also gaining a door to the back yard, a pantry and a new nook for...GUESS WHAT?

A NEW REFRIGERATOR.

GE can take their fridge and shove it.

After more than ten service calls for this brand new piece of garbage that keeps breaking down and either getting too hot in the freezer or too cold in the fridge, GE is finally refunding E and T and they are getting a new fridge.

I'm very excited.

Less exciting are the suitcase and book bag that are still sitting in the middle of my room waiting to be unpacked. I washed all my dirty clothes from that trip and they made it into drawers somehow, unfolded. But whatever was left clean and all of my toiletries are still in my suitcase along with who-knows-what else because it's been a week since I even looked in there.

Today, I needed something out of the toiletry bag so I took it out and thought, "Ok, now I will unpack at least this." Then, I got what I needed and scoffed at my suitcase for thinking I even cared about it at all and dropped the bag back in and ran away from there.

I wore a wrinkled dress from that bag to Shabbat dinner tonight.

Oh, Autumn weather, I missed thee.

The rest of my vacation after I wrote to you people was very nice. We spent days at the beach, with family, with friends and then of course, traveling home. I didn't sleep especially well at any point over vacation and by the time we landed I was kind of delirious.

We went from the airport to my mom's and then right to my nephew's birthday party down the street. It was an outdoor, monster-themed affair and it was ADORABLE. In addition to stuffing my face with food, we had a bonfire and watched a movie and had an all-around good time.

I didn't sleep well that night either, because it was my genius idea to take an eeeeeeearly morning bus back home and I spent the whole night having anxiety about over-sleeping and missing my bus and losing my job. Which wouldn't have even happened had I missed the bus, but I don't like to disappoint people I like.

I spent two days recovering from vacation. It was like lack of sleep and eating all the meat and garbage that I don't usually, and eating it in mass quantities, had all caught up with me at the same moment and the result was disastrous.

I nursed it like a hangover, treating it with coffee and carbs and trying to get to bed early. Unfortunately, going to bed early doesn't always mean I am going to sleep early, and the last couple of nights have led me to the realization that I really need to invest in an alarm clock that isn't my phone so that I will turn off my phone at night. There was a time, long ago, before my iPhone had ever brightened my life, when I was able to shut off my electronics and let my insomnia be caused by other things. I think it's time to try that again.

The trouble is finding an alarm clock that won't make me spew curse words every morning, because the typical beeping and buzzing of most clocks makes me border line homicidal. And that adorable little "radio" setting doesn't even make me twitch. I would never wake up to that.

What I need is an alarm clock that pats my shoulder and says, "Kimberly, it's 7." And then shuts up for a bit. And then later goes, "Kimberly, it's 7:25 now. Do you want me to turn on the light?" And then later sits up straight in bed and gasps, "IT'S 7:45! I CAN HEAR MONKEY IN THE KITCHEN! I CAN'T FIND YOUR SLIPPERS OR YOUR BRA! GET UP! GET UP!"

Does anyone know where they might sell this?

In addition, I think it is nearing time for me to buy a real computer again. Lil Marta the mini wonder has served me well, but I'm starting to have storage problems. I have an external hard drive that stores everything I don't need on hand, but I need my photo editing software again and lately when I recently had to remove my iTunes from the computer to make room for other files and that has made my life less musical and drastically more boring.

I think it's time.

Sigh.

So, the computer shopping shall begin.

In the course of writing this, Baby Frogger has both served as my laptop desk and my iTunes. He fell asleep singing and I had to put him down in order to fill J's order for apples, but not too many, just enough so he can have ice cream.

In spite of his best efforts, he's fattening up and has been blessed with little love handles where his little, bony ribcage used to hang out. The other two are approaching growth spurts, getting taller and leaner all the time and the littlest one is a hefty one, squeezing into nine month and twelve month clothing at the ripe old age of almost six months. I love him.

I love them all, and going away for a week only confirmed that.

I haven't seen New Nanny since I got back, but I'll let you know if anything new happens. I did snag a ten minute conversation with Nanny K and she is home and happy and I'm happy for her. It's weird that she's gone and I have no one extremely local to bother for late night decaf, but this just means my church friends are about to start getting several more propositions from me at 8pm. I hope they enjoy it.

I also hope J will stop passing gas and stinking up the playroom and just go to the bathroom already.

Little boys are gross.

Kimmy don't play that.

Sunday was calm and pleasant, in keeping with Saturday's theme.

We went to church and then had lunch with friends and then visited another friend.

Today was when it got serious.

We got up this morning and went to the store to finish putting together some gifts for the kids we would be visiting. You might remember from last year's posts, that our whole reasons for being acquainted with this corner of Florida was these six kids in the custody of their cancer-patient grandmother.

We got their gifts wrapped up and headed over and dove right into the chaos.

Six hours later, we had been to the bowling, arcade and brought home pizza.

The theme of today is "loud and disorderly."

The kids liked bowling but with seven people playing and their tiny attention spans, we had a hard time getting everyone to take their turns. We struggled through one game and I cancelled the second one that we had paid for and sent them all to the arcade. The two eldest went to play laser tag, which they did last year and loved. One of them was whining about having to wear shoes and so he didn't seem to be enjoying himself as much as he could.

The kids all ran around the arcade, playing games and winning various prizes and tickets. When it was all through, the two little boys had run out of money in a manner that was unsatisfactory to both and one was crying about not winning a prize and one was LIVID about his money being gone.

Mom and I decided to go win some more tickets in order to get the kids some prizes and calm everyone down. But, we only appeased one child.

The other one, who is lucky he's my favorite, had a total and complete meltdown.

Now, I'm not the type to back down from a screaming kid. I'm not like those moms/nannies you see getting all worried about people looking at them when their kid makes noise in public. Not. At. All.

But, I guess, no one told this kid that, because he ran away from me and gave me a dirty look so I marched right after him and told him his brother was going to get all of the prizes. That made him slow down and he hesitated and I grabbed him.

And then.

And THEN.

He screamed. At the top of lungs, legs kicking, arms flailing, full-fledged tantrum right in the bowling alley.

It was on.

I took him by the arm but he yanked away and dropped himself onto the floor. I went all ghetto and was like, "Hold my purse" and then I man-handled that boy in the tightest grip I could manage and hauled him back to his caretaker, depositing him in his chair and washing my hands of the whole tantrum with a quick explanation about what was happening.

He calmed down while we went and picked his prize for him, to be secretly handed to his mother and received at a later time.

We're only here one day, so I can't just leave without giving the kid his prize.

There was no more drama for the rest of our time with them, but on the way home in the AVENGER, we did get pulled over.

We prepped our excuses; being from Ontario (our rental plates say so), we thought we had some leniency this week. Also, Mom has been having various troubles with the controls in the unfamiliar car.

Turns out that's all it was; we had been driving with no headlights. The cop was really nice and just made sure we figured out how to work them and then told us to be safe and have a good night.

So we did.

Tomorrow, we hit the beach! Woohoo!

Far away in Florida.

Last year, my mom was living in Florida with an old friend of hers who has custody of her six grandchildren. The woman also has cancer and is struggling pretty hard to keep it together.

I visited for a week last summer, to help with the kids while my mom flew back north to see Hannah off to Rwanda.

This year, Mom is home and settled in a new house, Hannah is stateside and we are visiting Florida to keep up with all the kids and several cousins who reside down here for some strange, unknown reason.

I worked the breakfast shift at home yesterday morning, just to give T confidence that she would be ok without me. She and E are very agreeable to giving me time off right up until it's time for me to leave. Then they go into panic mode and my greeting yesterday morning from T was, "Good morning, traitor."

I told her where things were around the kitchen, drew on a full week's supply of brown paper bags for R's school snacks, put away one last load of laundry for the kids and headed off to the train.

She texted me a couple of hours later to ask me where the balsamic vinegar was.

So, I spent my day in train stations and then at the airport, napping while waiting for Mom to arrive. My brother drove her in from his area, where she left her car. His bat-out-of-hell driving techniques had Mom pretty frazzled, but she made it to the airport in one piece and we headed off to security.

We both got sent through the magical body scanner and then patted down afterward. And the several chargers and batteries that I had in my backpack for my phone, computer and camera caught the eye of the security guard and we had to wait there a few extra minutes while they checked them for explosives.

They searched my backpack, which seems to be my norm. I ALWAYS get randomly selected. I'm very suspicious looking.

After take off I got SO BORED that I nearly died. It was impossible to nap and United Airlines charges eight dollars to watch TV. BOOOOOOOOOOOO. After suffering for a while, we broke out Skip-Bo and played right up until landing. We were descending before we finished (and I won, duh) and it got pretty scary and intense.

The landing was atrocious. A couple of years ago, flying back from Uganda with a friend, I witnessed the single best airplane landing in the entire world and nothing will ever live up to it. And this certainly didn't.

We went down to baggage claim and I found my bag, missing the pin I had put on it to identify it and soaked. It took Mom a while longer and then she found hers.

We went over to claim the car we had reserved from Avis and had a million problems. We ended up trying two other companies before Alamo finally gave us a car. Hallelujah.

So, here we are in my cousin's house, soaking up some Florida thunderstorms and just generally relaxing. I am so relieved that it's rainy because that means no one will expect me to go outside in the horrible humidity and heat. We can just sit and enjoy the AC like normal, civilized people.

Tomorrow we'll be visiting Mom's church from when she lived here and then we're off to start the week, visiting the kids and other cousins. You might not hear from me.

Hold your breath!

Oh, just my two cents.

I need to rant about something completely unrelated to nannying, but it's my blog so I'll do what I want. And you can just deal with it.

Last night was utterly horrible. E and T didn't get back until one in the morning, after waiting out the rain at a building they own in the city that sprang leaks during that wonderful downpour. As strange and damaging as yesterday's weather was, I loved it. I had the windows open and the wind coming through the house was amazing.

Anyway, I got to enjoy it for an extra three hours while I waited for them to come back. I didn't want to go to bed, because once I am asleep, I don't hear much and J had already been up crying once by 11 o'clock. All the kids are on the verge of a cold and I didn't want to be running up and down two flights of stairs. One is enough, thank you.

So, by the time I got to bed and turned my brain off, I scored about five hours of sleep.

This morning, everyone overslept and, miraculously, we still got the kids off to school on time. E lingered around the house this morning. He handles lack of sleep like such a girl. Men are seriously such cry babies.

When he finally left, I made the baby's bottle and settled in front of the big TV for some quality Netflix time.

I watched a documentary about Sudan, specifically the Lost Boys who ran from there and sought refuge in Kenya. Some of them were later relocated through a program and brought to the United States to work.

I read a book about the same subject about a year ago and watching this brought to life a lot of the images that I had to draw myself when reading. It was pretty tough to watch. And then I started thinking.

Cue the rant.

I've run up against several practicing, believing, fruit-bearing Christians who wouldn't or won't work with organizations and charities that are not primarily evangelistic. I find that to be a despicable practice. I spent the morning flashing back to conversations with these people, some of whom I am still friends with, but I no longer respect as much, remembering how they thought it was so worthless to relocate these misplaced Sudanese orphans to a country willing to take them in and help them because they weren't also teaching the gospel.

In this specific case, my thoughts are simply that the refugee camp is certainly not designed for missions work, so our best chance as Christians of being the salt and the light to the Lost Boys is to support and encourage the programs that bring them here and become a part of their lives and BE THE SALT AND THE LIGHT. The organization doesn't have to be, WE DO.

So, naturally, because I like to argue and rant and win, I texted two of those people to strike up a debate. It was lively and not good-natured, but it ended with a stalemate because birds of a feather flock together and I am one stubborn bird, so you can only imagine what my friends are like.

Anyway, I am still pretty fired up about it, so I just had to let you all know about it.

There is an aspect of the church, of Christ's body, that is exclusive, but it's not in how we approach the world. To have our message be that we will show you Christ's love, but only through a church-run organization is pretty much the opposite of Christ's message.

In that same vein, I stand by my trip with EAC, Empower A Child, a couple of Christmases ago. They were not an OPC organization, and I felt some hesitation in various members of my support system.

Gross.

EAC is nondenominational, but I researched their mission statement, and their beliefs and practices are solid and biblical. Their goal was to go out into desperate parts of Uganda and Kenya, bring light and hope and physical comforts to children, and live out Christ's love in front of them. Then, point families who were interested into bible-believing churches without insisting that they conform to all the little nuances of one specific denomination.

I find that admirable.

And amazingly open.

And very salty and lighty.

At the end of my debate session and only halfway through my documentary, I was pretty emotionally drained. I folded some laundry to calm myself down and then children started getting home from school and bothering me and E and T had to go back to the city to clean up the remnants of last night.

Leftovers, timeouts, bed time and here we are again.

Carry on.

Ooooo a new girl.

Tomorrow, vacation is over and these little miscreants go back to school.

Last night, however, was our Rosh Hashanah party at T's mom's house and I FINALLY got to meet Nanny S, the replacement over at T's sister's house.

Everyone else met her on Labor Day while I was busy in Pennsylvania but T's assessment of her was a little mixed. On the plus side, Nanny S has whipped Little Brat Twin into shape and the two girls have taken to her as well.

On the down side, she's pretty abrasive and forward and she's kind of rough with the kids, and not just her unruly little charges, but mine, too.

Last night I witnessed her accidentally bumping heads together during a game of Duck, Duck, Goose, whacking R in the head with a bag as she turned where she stood and manhandling the kids in various other momenths.

Still, none of that was intentional and maybe it's just that she seriously lacks grace and agility and nothing more serious. But we all (and by that I mean T and myself) like to be a little dramatic and crazy and so we are going to remain suspicious until Nanny S proves herself.

After a few minutes with the new girl, I slipped into the kitchen to get the kids their dinner and T caught up with me.

"So, what do you think?"

"Well, I'm prettier than her so we're safe. Otherwise, we would have had to stop somewhere for you to buy me presents on the way home."

We were laughing pretty loudly when E came in to ask us why were cackling. He addedd,

"And why are you laughing like that? Kimmy is the only person you laugh with. You don't even laugh with me anymore."

"You don't love her like I do." I said through a mouthful of mysteriously delicious red stew with mushrooms in it. We laughed some more.

"You're hooking up with our nanny?!" E asked, and then we were so obnoxiously loud and *someone* snorted.

"There's going to be a Lifetime movie about us..." I left them to work on their marriage.

For the first time ever, my kids ate but the cousins didn't. Nanny S had a hard time getting even a few bites in them and then their idiot mother came into the room and said they had enough and they could have cookies.

In the next few hours I found out that already Nanny S has the same list of complaints that drove Nanny K out of here.

Crazy and her husband expect their nanny to do the work of four people with a smile on her face. Oh, and she moved here from Arizona so they didn't meet her until she came and she's not allowed to wear skirts because the cross tattoo on her leg will show. The cross tattoo on her arm is always showing, but the one on her leg is offensive.

I don't see this lasting, but I'm trying to be helpful anyway.

When Nanny S asked me point blank, "Do YOU have to cook EVERY day?" I kind of shrugged and didn't mention how sometimes we forget all about dinner and just feed the kids leftovers all weekend. T's sister is crazy if she thinks she's going to find someone who will do all her cooking, all her cleaning, keep up with her OCD, put up with her husband, her naughty children, never get her days off (already happening to Nanny S) AND be happy about it.

Nanny S might stay, but she's certainly not shy about complaining.

That house is a nightmare.

And what makes my heart beat in fear is the knowledge that IT COULD HAVE BEEN ME.

I can't express enough thanks to God for placing me with the good sister.

Sometimes, I can't help thinking that I could handle the wacko and straighten out that house, but I like to think I can do anything. I probably couldn't. They would probably fire me for trying. The husband over there is not very friendly.

Anyway, I'm here and that's amazing.

And Nanny S is there, so that's fun to talk about. You'll hear more about it.

Tonight, the weather here is wild and crazy, in keeping with its theme for the day. It has been WINDY here all day and T's mom is having the worst anxiety about it. E and T are in the city and I am on night shift today.

We kicked off the morning at a bright and early 11 0'clock and all I did this afternoon was make chocolate chip pancakes and thank our cleaning lady for being the most wonderful person on earth. T's mom came over around dinner time to help out after they left and to express her concern for their well being in the wind.

Then the rain started and she's been calling in half hour intervals ever since.

They called a little while ago to say they are monitoring some water damage and subsequent flooding in a building they own in the city and to ask if I would sleep upstairs in order to hear the kids.

So, I am off to the couch, which means I'll be watching TV until four in the morning and tomorrow is going to be my first early day in a few. Should be fun!

Cue the automatic coffee maker!

Different.

A lot has changed since my recent post five minutes ago but really, a week ago.

I have broken my laziness spell and have resorted to sleep aid two nights this week after not sleeping a wink two nights in a row.

One of those nights was a cocktail party here at the house, hosted by my employers. We put out a ton of appetizers and desserts and E made some drinks and then chased everyone around with tequila shooters the whole night.

I was technically working, but all the kids were in bed and I only had to feed the baby on occasion and put him back to bed, so my bosses didn't hesitate to liquor me up. I love them.

We had a quiet night in last night and today was uneventful as well.

We got up and breakfasted so late that no one felt like doing anything after that. We spent the morning napping and watching TV while the kids entertained themselves in the basement.

At some point we realized it was absolutely beautiful outside and so E and T took the kids on ahead while I took another nap and waited for Monkey to wake up.

He had his first full week of school and he has made leaps and bounds with potty training. He's been in underwear all week and this weekend and we've had minimal accidents. However, he's holding his pooh until morning time and doing it in his diaper to avoid having to use the potty. Punk face.

But when you call him that, he goes, "I not a punk face."

But he is.

When he did wake up, we headed out to catch up with the others. They had been headed to the park, but had been caught up at a friend's house on the way. We called and brought a bottle along for Baby Frogger and walked over. I have passed this house on several occasions but I'd never actually been there before. They have bay-front property and their yard dips down all the way to the water.

They've had the landscaping done in levels so first there's a picnic table and then the next landing is a little pond and grassy area and then there's several paths that go sideways or down to little play areas or lookout points all the way until you reach the water level. It's really cool. From one landing, we could see the pier and our park and Monkey remembered that he wanted to go there so I took him over.

The pier has been closed for most of the time that I've been here and they finally finished repairing the rotted boards and now you can walk out on it again. We chased a seagull away and took a walk on the "bridge" and then the other kids and T showed up.

We spent the rest of the day there, going home only because we had to feed the kids and put them to bed. Which we did.

Early.

And then we sat around doing nothing.

I've been installing a program on my computer for the last two hours and it doesn't look promising. Before I give up and go to bed, I'm going to play one more round of Tetris because it OWNS ME and then I'm off to dream land.

One more week until Florida!

TIME WARP.

This is from last weekend...

Ahhhh.

The first night after a heat spell is always so refreshing.

It smelled vaguely of fall outside this evening and I could not be happier. Tonight, my room is slightly chilly, exactly the way it should be. And this weekend I was paid the nicest compliment ever by my wonderful boss.

She called me the best nanny in the world.

Now, from my happy place and back to reality.

The series of horribly strange and persistent bug bites on my neck are gone and I no longer look like a plague patient. After some brief research and a consult with J’s doctor, we’re crediting West Nile virus. Weird, rashy, itchy, long-lasting…very mild West Nile. Tis the season.

We’ve been forced to get over our lazy selves and start using bug spray. The good stuff.

And meanwhile, my battle with bugs in the basement has been put to another rest. I’ve discovered the repelling powers of cedar. Apparently, everything hates it, most especially silverfish. Nasty, cursed silverfish.
After spraying two to death with ammonia the other night, I thought it was time to get proactive so I ordered something like 100 cedar wood balls and just threw them all around my room. That day, silverfish great and small showed themselves and suffered the consequences.

Hahahahahahahahaha.

I don’t know if it’s because this is my least favorite time of year (the dog days of summer) or if it’s just my own hormonal cycles, but I have been disgustingly lazy for the last two weeks. It’s downright sad.
I’m pooped by two-ish and on the days I don’t get a nap I just drop right into bed around 9 and then everyone makes fun of me at breakfast.

And dragging myself out of bed in the morning for that has been quite a chore as well.

The other day I sat outside on the porch step watching TV shows on my phone while the kids played instead of playing soccer with J, like usual. I’m so lazy, I have used over half of my data plan and I’m only in the first week of my billing cycle.

THIS IS TERRIBLE.

Coffee is going to help me snap out of it. And hopefully, by the time it starts upsetting my acid-prone stomach, I’ll be able to wean off it (again) and function like a normal human being.

Or at least, like I used to.

I’ve been thinking a lot about things I need to get done in the next few weeks, to prepare for Florida. And then things I need to have done this fall, by next year, spring, what my plans might be next summer.

I realize while I’m doing it that it’s not healthy to sit down and let all these things weigh on me at the same time, but that doesn’t stop me from doing it. I am in fact, my worst enemy.

But.

Sigh.

I keep my life interesting.

Also, I exhaust myself on those random nights when I’m not already pooped by 8 o’clock. Gotta keep one step ahead of the insomnia.

My other efforts have included turning off my internet after 10 o’clock, which doesn’t always happen because I am an addict and we have trouble with things like that, and acquiring two new, wonderful pillows from upstairs.

Since I am the one who decides where everything goes and since the linen closet was too full to hold everything it has been asked to lately, I thought it would be best if I added these to fluffy beauties to my bedding collection.

Since my net canopy went up, my bed has turned into a sort of cocoon of pillows and blankets and whatever laundry hasn’t been put away yet. Also, whatever books I was reading before I fell asleep and several million hair ties that fall out while I am asleep.

Last night I rolled over and my bathing suit was stuck in my bracelet.

Don’t worry, it’s clean.

It feels like my bed just gets comfier and cozier every night, which might be aiding my laziness, but who can really say?

Here’s what I know:

I haven’t had to take any sleep aids in over a month. That’s a good thing.

The other thing I know, I have been avoiding talking about because it’s so sad.

My monkey, my sweet, naughty monkey, who has been hopelessly potty training for two days now, is starting school tomorrow. He has done nothing but pee (well, he pooped once) on the floor and then ask for M&Ms for 48 hours but it is going to be SO SAD when he leaves me tomorrow for his first day of that sorry excuse for a preschool.

SO. SAD.

I intend to spend the day snuggling with Tiny Baby, who is more like a large snuggly, frog, and watching Netflix to cope with my sadness.

Oh well.

This is not even close to what I should be doing right now.

I am off for the next two days, and there are a lot of things I should get done before I leave and even more things that I should pack so that I can leave.

But it's all about priorities and right now mine is watching this Harry Potter movie.

Nanny K left yesterday and last night we had Shabbat dinner at T's mom's house with her sister's family as well. They're not taking it well. T's brother-in-law, who isn't all that friendly anyway, barely said two words to me, going so far as to stare blankly into space instead of responding when I spoke to him.

I guess it's hard knowing that someone probably knows all your dirty laundry and they're not your employee to drive away.

Oh well.

T's sister is more of the troubled type, not nasty, and she just looked occupied with her three wild children and perhaps wasn't as bright as usual.

It was T's mom who approached me in the kitchen and admitted to crying. Nanny K wasn't even sure T's mom liked her, and who knows if she really did, but she knew how good K was for the kids and she sure didn't want her to go.

Oh well.

A replacement flies in from Arizona on Monday. Hold your breath!

The dinner last night was disastrous in other ways. Thankfully, we got our kids fed before their cousins arrived. Ours were pretty rotten all day, but once there were six of them tearing around the house, the adults pretty much just gave up any hope of peace and quiet and went to their happy places.

After I had played all my turns in both Scrabble and Words With Friends, my happy place ceased effectiveness. So, I got a hold of the baby and put him to sleep and escaped having to handle the kids for the rest of the night. By nine o'clock, everyone else was sick of the kids, too.

Particularly, J, who hadn't stopped crying once since 3 that afternoon.

We took them home, put them in bed, and pretended the whole night had never happened.

Home so early from Shabbat dinner and with no kitchen to clean up, I found myself with a rare few hours of down time. I hardly knew what to do with myself. Should I hit the bar? Should I call around and see who's up and wants to go out?

No.

I went to bed and worked on various projects on my computer until I fell good and asleep.

I got a full eight hours in, which I desperately needed after my excursion into New Jersey on Wednesday. I hadn't slept well all week. Last night was a dream. Except I didn't remember any dreams, so it was more like a dreamless dream.

Tomorrow I am going to church where I grew up for the first time in awhile and I am very excited. I have to get up at the crack of dawn to make it to the bus that will put me in Hackettstown fifteen minutes later than I would like it to, but I am still very, very excited.

Also, I have a very important announcement to make.

Just in case you don't already know,

Avengers is back in theaters this weekend. GO SEE IT!

Trains and cigars. It's like the 1950s out here.

My alarm went off at seven this morning, leaving me time to get ready for the day, pack my bag and head off to breakfast.

Somehow I got late, panicky late, and I forgot my camera and my computer and I ran out to the taxi, missed breakfast and got on the train. I was trying really hard to will my computer and my camera to come to me on the weird, blurry train when I got news that my childhood neighbor had died. It was odd, because I hadn’t answered my phone and yet I was on it and my mom was telling me about his passing.

Then R said, “Kimmy!” into my left ear and my eyes nearly popped out of my head.

The good news was my neighbor’s life had been spared, but the bad news was that after the alarm ringing at seven, I had fallen back to sleep and dreamt about getting ready.

It was 7:30 and my train was pulling out of the station in fourteen minutes.

“Go upstairs!” I hissed at R, who knows better than to come in my room, ever, at all, without my permission and before I am up. We haven’t had this problem in a long, long, long time.

She had said something else to me, I think about a circus, but I can’t be sure because that was when I still thought my neighbor was dead and I was dream-grieving. I also tend to be delirious in that state. I once looked at my mom when she tried to wake me one morning and my eyes saw her in a formal gown, all dressed to go out.

“Why are you so dressed up?” I snapped at her, because snapping is all I can muster before nine.

“I’m not.” She had said, looking at me like I was crazy. Then I blinked and her turtle neck and jeans came into focus and I was so very confused.

R intelligently ran away without another word and I leapt out of my new mosquito netting and ran upstairs to brush my teeth.

I had picked out an outfit the night before but I hadn’t tried it on, so I had to swap tops three or four times before I got it right. I hopped around trying to put shoes on, remembered to pack my camera and my computer and at the last minute pulled my headphones and iPod from one purse and dropped them into today’s bag.

I called a cab, confident that even though I hadn’t done my hair or makeup, I was ready to go. I grimaced at the horrible patch of bug bites that I am beginning to think aren’t bug bites on my neck and wished I could cover them up.

They just materialized there one day, and so did two on my hip and one on my lower leg. They all look the same and feel the same and itch like crazy and they all happened the day I rearranged my room and crossed paths with armies of tiny, angry spiders. I chocked it up to their doing and then put up my net and no new ones appeared.

But then today, when I finally did make it to my brother’s, the first thing he said to me was hi and then, “Is that poison ivy?”

While I still don’t think it’s poison ivy, because I haven’t been in the wild for like, weeks, I hadn’t considered that it might be a rash of some sort. Of course after that I Googled and then spent ten minutes when I got home checking for allergens, mold and bed bugs. I can’t find any, so I don’t know what to think.

But these “bites” have been itchy and unchanged for about four days now.

Send help.

Anyway, I missed my train.

I caught the next one, which would put me in Penn Station with ten minutes to get over to my next train. Confident that I could do it if I ran, I took a seat on the LIRR train and pulled out my headphones. I put them on, sat back and dreamed of the day when train schedules accommodate me and my life and I don’t have to get up so early to see my friends and family.

About ten minutes later I realized that my headphones weren’t connected to anything, and that when I pulled them out of that other purse they must have disconnected from the iPod because it was not in my bag.

I made it to Penn, ran over to Transit, got my ticket and stood there waiting for my track announcement.
Instead, my train was put on stand by and then a big, bold DELAYED.

The lady doing announcements said they were unloading cargo and they would call us when they felt like it. Maybe not verbatim, but that was the tone.

Fifteen minutes after departing time, we boarded and I wondered if this meant I was going to miss my connection to Hackettstown. I tried really hard in that moment to not curse NJ Transit in my head but my head was still so morning-foggy that I don’t even know if I was successful.

I pictured my day being ruined, because the next connection put me there in the late afternoon and just wasn’t worth it, and me returning home twenty dollars lighter and with nothing to show for it.

My thoughts were broken by a new announcer saying the connecting trains were being held until our arrival.

Hallelujah.

I got out my computer to do some work.

I transferred uneventfully and as I was exiting my last train in Hack, I looked up to see my brother and his tiny son on the train, waving hello. It was the brightest greeting I ever got from little Sammy. He usually takes longer to warm up to me.

He made my day a thousand more times, giving me kissies and showing me his toys and letting me hold him. I snapped a few quick photos of their little family while we walked in the park and then we went back to their house to eat again.

And drink a little.

Mark, my one-time travel companion to Africa, had scored some cigars that were exactly the kind we bought in Africa, so he came for dinner and then we sat around puffing smoke and watching John’s stupid dog and Mark’s stupid dog chase each other around the yard.

Coming home was less frustrating than going in, because I didn’t dream that I was doing it or that any harm had come to anyone I know and love. But I still missed a train and hung out a little longer in order to catch the next one.

I got home an hour later than intended, and I should be going to bed now, but I “accidentally” drank a cup of coffee while waiting for that last train and now my brain is on overdrive.

I got home to Willie the idiot barking at me and I thought, I have really been around too many dogs today.
Then I thought twenty other things because of that overdrive thing I mentioned and now I am sitting on my bed, wondering how in the world I am going to function tomorrow.

It will probably involve more coffee.
　

Chatter.

A lot of talking has gone on here lately.

We are so funny and you wish you could hear us in the car. Every time we go somewhere or come home from somewhere we make so much noise laughing that the baby can’t sleep. Most recently there was talk about how T forgets to pay me on pay day (Thursday) and I forget that she hasn’t paid me until my next day off when I am going to pay bills (shop) or go out. We were defending our forgetfulness when E offered up a new plan.

“If Kimmy doesn’t remember by Sunday morning that she hasn’t been paid then she worked that week for free.”

Later, our conversation turned to poo and monitoring the kids daily dumps. I brought up how Monkey has been pooping two to three times a day lately and they’re HUGE. He’s gotten so used to my exclamations about them that he lies there on the changing table going, “Is it a huge poo?” And I’m like, “OH MY GOODNESS YES.”

So, I said, fine, if I don’t remember to get paid by Sunday and you stop paying me, I’m not changing Monkey’s diapers anymore.”

His plan was turned down after that.

We’ve made a tiny little baby step in potty training this monster. He’s two and a half-ish and he has control over his bowels and could totally be potty trained but he insists on peeing in random corners around the house and he downright refuses to poop on the potty. He gets stage fright and then holds it in for hours and after he missed a day of dumping and started to look a little green and lose his appetite, we thought we’d better lay off.

Whenever he’s home, I’ve started leaving him bottomless and that’s helping, but he still won’t poop.

The kids all start school in a week, so they had two weeks off between summer camp and school. J signed up for pee wee soccer and it’s soooooooo cute. He has tiny little cleats and tiny little shin guards and all these tiny little three years olds gather on the field and kick a ball around. His coach has him playing goalie a lot, because he’s really good. And that’s nice to know, because he’s not good at puzzles or games or blocks or coloring or sitting down for ten minutes and not whining about something, but he is really, really good at sports.

After his first day, he came home able to kick the ball with the inside of his foot, in a perfectly straight line. Anywhere we told him to aim it, he kicked it. He runs pretty fast, probably from our water fights on the front lawn. He’s really sneaky and he can come up behind me without me seeing him, spray me in the back with ice cold water and then take off before I have a chance to retaliate. R isn’t so quick, and she gets hit in the face with water a lot which is why she doesn’t play with us anymore.

She opted to do absolutely nothing for two weeks and she’s been following me around the house a lot and driving me insane.

Yesterday we went to KidStock, which is like WoodStock only nobody is high, the music has hand motions and there are clowns everywhere. Also, the ground is littered with remnants of arts and crafts projects instead of old roach clippings and beer bottles.

No, I have never been to WoodStock.

Anyway, we met Gordon from Sesame Street and it was the highlight of my day. We also met some weirdo clown from Cyberchase who was kind of funny but also a little annoying.

We were hanging out near the stage, shaking our booties to some island music when R spotted a friend of hers and we ran over to say hi. I waved T over from where she was hiding, nursing the baby, and she and the mom gabbed for a minute and made a play date for today.

This kid.

This kid shows up here today and before her mom even leaves, she’s acting like a brat. When she arrived Monkey and the tiny one were both asleep. T was home for an intermission from work and J was home from soccer early because a freak downpour had ruined our day.

This little girl came in here screaming and screeching and teasing J until he cried. Granted, he cries about everything, but little punk kid should know better than to go into someone else’s house and act like a demon spawn. You save that for home, horrible child.

Her mom apologized eighty times and yelled at her and asked what time she should pick her up. For some reason we said 4, giving us three hours with the wicked witch from Great Neck. The mother left and not ten minutes later, this kid had woken up Tiny. T put her in timeout (GO T!) and went to nurse the baby.

She had just decided to stay home, afraid to make me watch this little brat, when the girls miraculously settled down at the craft table to paint. J even joined them and peace reigned.

“Should I go?” T was nervous. Nanny K is leaving on Friday and her going is putting everyone on edge.
“Yeah, they’re fine now. If it blows up, I’ll call you.” At that point it was two and I only had two more hours. T was working locally today, so at the very worst I planned to call her and scream and then go hide in my shower until she got back.

After the craft table, the kids played nicely in the basement for a bit and then somewhere in there our little guest starting teasing J again.

I pulled her aside and got right in her face.

“Do you want me to call you mother right now?”

“No.”

“Good. Then knock it off.”

Poor R spent the entire play date going, “No! No, we can’t do that. I’m telling Kimmy.” She wasn’t even sad when the mom came back to pick her up at four.

Before that happened though, this did.

Monkey woke up around three and joined the kids in the playroom. Tiny baby tried and tried all day to get a nap and couldn’t because of all the noise. Fighting broke out in the playroom and since Tiny was in the living room and no one seemed to want to play in the basement, I decided to separate the kids and cling to my sanity for one more day.

Boys downstairs, girls upstairs.

Well.

Monkey flipped out. He wanted to play with the girls SO BAD that he started throwing the mother of all tantrums. Screaming with tears and snot and hiccups and everything. I tried all my usual routes and when nothing worked, I just carried him upstairs and deposited him in his crib.

He cried in there for twenty minutes or so before I got him to shut up and come back downstairs. By this time, Tiny was awake so I took Monkey into the living room to watch Barney Sing-Along on Netflix, so for those of you who share my Netflix, that’s why that comes up so much, ok? It’s not me. I hate Barney and everything he stands for.

Anyway, he calmed down for like five minutes while that started up and then J heard the big TV was on and came running and Monkey started sobbing, “Don’t want J to watch my Barney.”

I scoffed a couple of times and left the room.

There were more tears and screaming about having to share a bowl of animal crackers and then finally he had worked himself into such a state that he puked a little and that’s what shut him up for good.

He seems to hate puking.

Our horrible guest child went home shortly after that and then T’s mom came to watch the baby while I got dinner on. I love her.

After T got home this evening we were talking some more. About how horrible that girl who is never invited back here was and about how she had such a bad influence on our kids in one afternoon.

While we were talking R kept trying to interrupt and then T stopped her and said, “Hold on! Mommy” and here she pointed at me “is trying to talk to Daddy.” And she pointed at herself. E has been downgraded to “extra” or “third wheel” if he prefers. R didn’t get the joke, but we had a good laugh and then continued talking without letting her say anything.

We mentioned how annoying our mother-in-law is (she was here this morning but I’m too exhausted to relive that experience) and then how I had just been on the phone with my mom for a good hour in intense debate (not argument, no one was mad) and then T looked shocked and apologetic.

“You’ve had three mothers to deal with today! And {horrible child}! Wow.”

“Yeah, it’s been a long day.”

And then we had to stop talking because it was already bedtime and we were holding everybody up. She took the baby and we herded the boys upstairs to find R already naked in the dry, empty bathtub, waiting and waiting for the adults to get it together.

She’s really proven herself today, so I’m thinking it’s time for me to pass on some responsibilities and just relax for a while. Let the five year old with all the energy handle things.