Monthly Archives: March 2008

Things I didn’t know I’d have to explain more than once before I had boys

1. Always, always, always change your underwear everyday. Then, change them again for good measure.

2. Never, never, never put jeans with caked on mud into the hamper. When in doubt, leave them out (in the laundry room).

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(Yes, I found them at the bottom of their full hamper.)

3. When heading to the bathroom, keep these steps in mind:

  • First, lift the lid
  • Second, lift the seat
  • Then, look, aim and fire.

Strange things can happen if you skip a step.

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( How?! Never mind. I don’t want to know!)

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4. Snow boots were not meant to go through water. If it’s too cold for sandals, you should just stay in the snow. (No matter what your father does!)

5. And lastly, you don’t have to look, feel, or believe that you’re dirty to need a bath.

“But Mom, I just took a bath last week!”

****Warning: this post contained graphic displays of bodily fluids. It even grossed out Mr. French. It’s just too bad I put the warning at the bottom of the post.**** 🙂

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Filed under Boys will be boys, Mr. French, That's just gross

The Post in which I don’t say what, exactly, it is that I said.

“The baby” comes up a lot in our conversations around here.

We look at pictures of babies in utero on the internet and in books. We’ve talked about placentas and umbilical cords and belly buttons and nursing and crying and how babies can’t really do much of anything when they first come out.

I even let them watch about 10 minutes of a very screened portion of The Miracle of Life. They’re always asking, how big is the baby now? How big will it be when it comes out? When is the baby coming out? etc.

Finally, at 21 weeks, we got around to the question I was wondering when they’d ask.

How does it come out?” C asked one day after looking at this picture.

I told him, using the proper term, which he’d never heard before. (Well, he’d never asked that question.)

After I explained what that was, he said, “Oh.”

And then he said, “But it’s too small.” (I’ve thought the very same thing!)

“Well,” I said. “It stretches.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes, it hurts. But it’s O.K.” (I decided not to burden him with that now.)

“Hmm.” he said.

And that was that.

I’m just glad nobody asked the other question.

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Filed under She's having a baby, That's just gross

Proof that the original planners of this house did not have kids

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This is the front door.

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This is the back door.

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This is the front and back doors in the same picture.

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This is how the floor looks most of the time.

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Filed under Boys will be boys, That's just gross

Spring Break: the week we spent doing laundry almost every day.

It’s spring break around here which is partially why the blog has been kind of quiet this week.

The other reason would be that my computer was out of commission and I couldn’t possibly have used our old PC to blog. (Can you say Mac Addict?)

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So, we’ve just been laying around, hanging out, napping periodically.

Just how you’d suspect a house full of small males would spend their spring break.

Or not.

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(Molly is such a girl, staying on the side and keeping her paws clean.)

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I’m pretty sure my last words as they walked out the door were not, “Go play in the ditch! Be sure to get muddy, too!”

But the surprising thing is that they are shocked and completely baffled when I tell them they must also remove their pants before proceeding into the rest of the house.

I am such a mean Mom.

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Filed under Boys will be boys, That was fun, That's just gross

Ignorance is Bliss (though mostly just embarrassing)

I was born and raised Reformed Presbyterian.

My grandparents were all Reformed Presbyterian.

My parents are Reformed Presbyterian. As are many of my Aunts, Uncles and cousins.

So, naturally, I wasn’t especially cognizant of the different church practices of other types of Christianity. I knew what made us different from them. I knew the arguments and was aware that other Christians did things differently in their churches, but I wasn’t aware exactly of what those differences always entailed.

So, you can imagine my confusion when, at the age of 18, I was working in a small nursing home in a small, predominantly Catholic town on Ash Wednesday. My coworker showed up for work and had a very obvious black mark on her forehead. I doubted it was some kind of “make-up” accident, but I considered that if I had a huge black mark on my face, I would want someone to point it out to me. When we had a moment alone, I said,

“Did you know you have a…” pointing to my forehead, “a black mark on your forehead?”

“Yeees?” she said, looking a little dumbfounded.

“Well, did you want it to be there?” I continued, confused.

“It’s Ash Wednesday.”

“And that means?”

“You don’t know what Ash Wednesday is?!” she asked, again dumbfounded.

Of course, I’d seen the words Ash Wednesday on the calendar before, but I never paid much attention to what it meant. I thought it was something like Canadian Labor Day or Australian Mother’s Day. Obviously not pertaining to me, so why ask questions.

So, I got my first lesson in Catholic practices that day. And I never made that mistake again, although I’ve done a double take several times since, when, seemingly out of the blue, I’ll see people walking around with big black marks on their foreheads.

It was not to be the last of my “education” though.

A year later, I was attending a Christian College in PA. I got up early on a Saturday (!) to attend a review for my first chemistry test on Monday. When it was over, I walked back to my dorm with another guy who had also attended the review. I’d seen him around and he was a friend of another friend, but I hadn’t really spent much time getting to know him. We chatted as we walked, and when we had almost gotten to my dorm, I casually asked him what kind of church he attended.

He said something to the effect of, “a Charismatic church”.

I stopped mid-stride, dumbfounded.

“You call yourself a Charismatic?!” I exclaimed incredulously.

“Yeah.” he said confused.

“I thought that’s just what we called you. I thought it was a derogatory term.” I said, though I wish I’d realized at that moment I should probably not say everything that I think.

I don’t think he held it against me, thankfully, because he’s a very nice guy and I still consider him a friend.

I’d like to think I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut about things-I-know-nothing-about, but I really can’t be too sure.

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Filed under I confess, I'm a pretend writer

I thought you’d like to know…

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That these are the most disgusting little “fruit” flavored pellets of chalk I have ever felt compelled to consume.

Speaking of pregnancy…

I reached an all-time low last week.

I threw up while I was talking on the phone with someone.

And no, I didn’t hang up right away.

I was a little busy at that particular moment.

You know, vomiting and stuff.

When I called back later to explain, he said it was a first for him as well. Nice to know I can be so innovative.

(So what if it was just Mr. French. 🙂 )

And here’s a useful tip, in case you find yourself with a scorched esophagus one day.

Halls Fruit Breezers did wonders when it hurt too much to swallow.

They taste good too.

Which is far more than I can say about those little chalk pellets.

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Filed under In Sickness and Health, She's having a baby, That's just gross

I couldn’t resist my favorite flower.

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Filed under Forgive me for being sentimental