Why I Should Not Put My Phone On Top Of A Car (or Why I Should Never Ask Wil To Load The Washing Machine Part II)

So I am phoneless again! I very brilliantly set the phone on top of the car while I buckled Gabe into his car seat. Then we drove off and heard the kerplunk. Unfortunately we didn't realize what the kerplunk was until we were in Charleston. By that time either the world's smartest raccoon had decided to start doing some Blackberry Messaging or some random jogger figured the could use a new phone. I am guessing at some point today I will call and report my own stupidity and pay the ridiculous deductible and get a new phone. Maybe God is telling me I don't need a Blackberry. Maybe he thinks I should upgrade to an Iphone. Just a guess on my part.

So onto my lack of a post last week. At least this time I had a good reason...

I tell you what, me and this hospital are getting to be on some bad terms! I honestly can't even tell you what went wrong. I walked down to Gabe's room at daycare and he was just a'fussin! It was a weird fuss so I knew something was wrong. I told him to walk with me and I took his temp and it was only 100.2. He climbed up on my couch and he started crying "my back, my back" like an 82 year old man. Now most two year olds do not complain about lower back pain so I made him an appointment at the pediatrician. I took his temp again before we left 102.1. Ooops!

We got to the pediatrician's office and he just went downhill from there. He couldn't go pee pee so they put a catheter in. Still no pee pee. So we got a nice little admit slip to go across the street and get a nice comfy bed and exactly no sleep.

I must admit I was a bit freaked out at this point because who really goes to the doctor and expects to be admitted to the hospital? I called Charles and asked him to meet me at the hospital. The conversation went like this...

Me: Gabe is getting admitted to the hospital can you meet me there?
Charles: Oh my goodness! Is he ok?
Me: Yes, but he really doesn't feel good and is having trouble going to the bathroom.
Charles: Well then can't you just get him in and I will be by in a little while?
Me: I need some help because I will have to get him registered.
Charles: Well how does everybody else get registered?
Me: Well everybody else may not have a sick baby when they register.
Charles: Rachel, everybody is sick when they register at the hospital.
Me: JUST MEET ME AT THE HOSPITAL!
Charles: Do you just want me to get you a good parking space since I am in my police car?
Me: Click.

He met me at the hospital. He just takes a little time to come around.

   

As Long As It Is Not A Double Barrel Shotgun Wedding....

Can you believe it has been a whole year since I wrote this? Yes, my Noah is now 14. For some reason it feels so much older than 13. 13 was a big change but Holy Smokes (or as Gabey Baby told me the other day..."Oh My Holy Cow"- I am not sure if holy as in Holy Cow should be capitalized but the way he said it leads me to believe it should be. And maybe even in a bold font) 14 is so very very different. 14 is almost driving age. 14 is almost dating age. 14 is one year closer to my being in an old folks home.

Anyway, I asked Noah what he wanted to do for his birthday. He piped up with the "I want to go to Aunt Anne's because she a redneck girl who cook good." So I called my sweet sister-in-law Anne and asked her if we could party down @ Chez Trezevant. She heartily agreed and told me to ask him what kind of cake he would like (because let's face it I don't do cakes). He said that he would like, not a chocolate cake, not a vanilla cake, not a confetti cake...he wanted a shotgun cake. Wait not just a shotgun cake...a double barrel shotgun cake. And Anne, being Anne, took the challenge and ran with it!

He really enjoyed his cake. Now since he is 14 and 14 year old boys are not the easiest things in the world to buy birthday presents for, Noah received quite a bit of cash. Here is where I need to take this blog and make a very serious confession. When my children get birthday money (or Christmas money or Easter money or Halloween money for that matter) they put it up in a safe place and try to save it. AND then they want McDonalds or Wendy's or (my favorite) Chik-Fil-A and they bug me and bug me and I have no cash so of course I just take their birthday (or Christmas or Easter or Halloween) money and take them to wherever they want to go. My name is Rachel and I take my children's money. I feel better now (not really).

So after 14 years Noah has caught onto this and he gave his money to his brother (who he had just gotten into a fist fight with) for safe keeping. Wil is better at hiding things than Noah so I guess we will not be going to Chik-Fil-A until payday.

A Day in the Life...

I have been snapping a lot of grainy cell phone pictures of Gabey Baby these day.I thought I would put together a little show for you so you can see (and maybe take notes on) what a great mother I am. We usually start the day like this....

As you may remember (because of that dang owl) Gabe has been sleeping in our bed. I know, I know! Oh the shame of it. I will admit it is easier and let's just admit... I am all about the easy.

We go to school and work and sometimes we get to take great little fields trips together...like this one to the pumpkin patch

Ok I take no credit for this since it is obviously not a grainy cell phone picture! Thanks Suszanne for taking this!

When it is raining we like to jump in puddles...

That second shot reminds me of some of the better Big Foot shots I have seen. Not that Gabey Baby has a big foot.

When we get home we usually have more than a few of these...

Oh ow I love temper tantrums. They make my life complete.

Every once in a while we will do something fun at night...

He loved his first football game AND he loves his Ya-Ya! (Laura is my next door neighbor who I have turned into my personal nanny. God love her! I could never make it without her!)

And then of course, because I am who I am, we ALWAYS push it too far and do things like go to IHOP after the football game. Who doesn't take their 2 year old for pancakes at midnight?

AND then we start all over again!

Nyquil (I Mean Calgon)-Take Me Away

Have you ever had one of those months nights when nothing seems to go your way? Last night was one of those nights for me. It started with Noah and this...

Just so you know he thought he saw a fire. On the concrete floor. Under the steel stairwell. I am going to get his eyes rechecked along with the hearing next time. 

Then, as if the fire wasn't enough... I forgot to leave Gabe's bag in the nursery. AND if you recall we are in the deep and dark depths of potty training. Um yeah. He pooped in his pants. AND no one could find me to tell me so those poor nursery helpers (shout out to ya Jeff and Candi) had to deal with it. At least they didn't have a Walmart bag with a hole in it.

After I got Gabe all ready to go home I turn around and see two more mischievous Squires' boys followed by an angry Royal Ambassador teacher. The look on his face should have been enough to send a blood clot straight to my brain. He said, in his deep voice..."Rachel I need to talk with you". I looked from Wil to Heyward and then to Gabe. Then I looked at Gabe's diaper bag and thought about those poopy underpants (and pants and socks and shoes) and asked that deep voiced Royal Ambassador teacher if he could possibly just call me because if he couldn't tell I was on the verge of a very large breakdown. (FYI I haven't gotten my call yet and honestly I still can't promise there won't be a coronary).

I got four of the five Squires' loaded into the car (plus a friend-who I will add was quite well behaved) and looked around for the fifth. Yeah NOWHERE to be found. Did you even need to guess? I screamed across the parking lot when I saw his little pop out of the door and then try to sneak back in and thoroughly humiliated myself. 

I got home and the artist formerly known as Gabe drew this for me...

on the kitchen floor...with a Sharpie. And I might add that he is a performance artist...he did it in the nude.

The last straw came when I did this...

That is a cup full of chocolate milk. You can't really tell but the majority ended up in between the counter and the stove. Just where you want all of your chocolate milk to end up.

I gave up and climbed into bed and turned on a rerun of Dance Moms to make the world go away. If you have never watched Dance Moms (and why you haven't is beyond me because it is trashy TV greatness) you may not know but the teacher ranks all of the girls in a pyramid every week with the best on the top of the pyramid on the top and the rest dwindling down below her. SO I have decided to do my own pyramid...

As you can see my pyramid is not based on who was the best performer of the night...more like who was in the most trouble.