Homework and other ungodly disasters

I've come to a couple conclusions over the last week or so. There is a chance that God took notice of all of the missing assignments in my grade school past and that is the sole reason he gave me 5 kids; so I can complete my fair share of homework papers. Also swear words and wine were discovered by moms up to their eyeballs in spelling words, geography research and solve for X.

Last night I found myself sitting on a couch with thoughts like, "If the mom police saw me now, they would know that I do NOT have a license for this life I live." "What the heck is that kid wailing? Is it even English?" "Did I feed the baby dinner?" "Where the heck is this kid's father??"

One kid was mad because I was quizzing him on his brothers spelling words, another kid was literally wailing because he circled the wrong teddy bears on his math paper, and one kid was winning awards with a crazy impressive speech about how he finished his homework in class. That kid will break any lie detector tests he ever takes!

Ok lets take this homework one grade at a time. Lets start with Kindergarten, because lets face it, THAT is more my speed. The instructions said to circle the one group of bears and underline the other group. There were 6 bears lounging on this piece of paper. 3 were circled. they were not similar. I asked this particular kid why he circled those three. "Because mommy, those three were my favorite!" I gave him a high five, told him he did

 a great job and sent him off to find some jammies.

Ok, 2nd grade homework. His assignment included timing him for a minute while he read a passage. He tells me, "I memorized the whole thing. Just write down the highest number." No kid, it doesn't work like that. So he starts reading. It doesn't sound right. I asked him what the heck he was reading.  His response: "If you leave out the "and's" and "the's" you can read more." I write down a number and send him off to find jammies before the timer even dings.

4th grade! I can do this! I'm rocking this homework, lets finish for the love of everything good and holy! This kid is staring at me with a blank expression. "Homework? Oops, I think I left it at school." Oh thank God! Third one is off to find jammies!

But then there is more wailing and the kid that I thought should be sleeping by now since we finished his homework first is standing in front of me. "THE BABY ATE MY HOMEWORK!" Crap, maybe I did forget to feed her dinner! Ok homework time is over, it is officially BEDTIME! 

45 minutes, 27 spankings, and 536 warnings later, all 5 kids are in their beds. I sat down with the worlds largest glass of wine and everyone's homework in front of me. the 6th grader with the impressive story telling skills asks to use his computer, which he has been grounded from already."Ummmm I thought you didn't have homework??" his response is so foreign to me. "I need to do research for my paper; its extra credit."

What the heck is "extra credit"? In my classes that was the point where I said, "Oh she wasn't talking to me, back to passing notes." But apparently there are actually kids who DO the extra credit! Kevin insists that extra credit isn't to bring up grades, its a savings account in case you get to close to a B, and need that little extra to save an A. What?? Ok....nerds! I still don't understand, but I type in "where the heck do Amish people hail from" on google, yell to my oldest, "You're from Switzerland! Research it tomorrow" and refill my wine. 

My husband looks over my shoulder and says, "Just because you try to use sloppy handwriting doesn't mean the teacher will think the kids did their own homework."

Well here is to another night where the kids are alive and homework is finished (and so is my bottle of wine) and my oldest sincerely thanked me for not killing him today! I call that a successful day! Now on to carpool where my goal is to only run into 5 cones instead of the 7 I hit yesterday! Mom life y'all, may the odds be ever in your favor!

That time I took all 5 kids school shopping

Last week, I had put it off long enough. This year I had ordered most of our school supplies on Amazon, because lets face it, taking 5 kids into a store to buy 1000 pencils and 2000 crayons, should seriously be the plot of a horror movie! But I needed shoes and I needed to try the shoes on the very picky feet of my children before buying or I would have been sending shoes back to the online retailer for the next 30 months!

We went into the store after sitting in the van for 20 minutes listening to lectures and threats and bribes that would have put a hostage negotiator to shame! I walked past 3 older woman who counted my children out loud as we walked past. We returned a shirt, went pee 6 times, changed a diaper, and then another one, and then we were finally ready for the shoes.

Liam's little brain is beginning to forget the impressive threats I made a few minutes earlier and keeps hiding in the clothes racks and jumping out at unsuspecting women. He unashamedly cackles loudly when a lady jumps back and yelps when he comes barreling from behind the shirt on clearance that she is contemplating. So I buckle the little squirt into the stroller. 

Caleb has been in time out 4 times, which basically means he has to hold onto the stroller and not let go, which he only does when he sees a spot that he knows we won't get through together, and then he stubbornly refuses to let go, because he's doing exactly what he was told....which he is normally allergic to. At the shoes there's a bench. Perfect time out spot! 

Micah starts trying on shoes. Every. Single. Shoe in the store. Liam is trying to get the buckle undone, but when his escape attempts fail, he grabs a shirt and starts snapping Caleb who is still in time out. Caleb howls at ear shattering decibels, insuring that every single person in the store turns to watch us. Liam is hanging out of the stroller, feet tangled in the buckle. he's scared. He knows you hit the older brother, and then you run as if your life depended on it, because seriously your life depends on it!

Caleb takes of his sandal, and seeing that his target is conveniently trapped, he starts beating the little turd over the head with his shoe. Liam bites Caleb's ankle, and Caleb climbs up on top of the stroller and straddles his brother still swinging the shoe. A sweet little Mexican lady crosses herself and starts speaking rapid Spanish to her friend. They both stare in horror at the cat fight going on in my stroller.

I stand there looking at my phone. Maybe if I pretend not to notice someone will call child services and they will confiscate my children while they determine if I am a fit mother. As appealing as a quiet evening is, I decide this probably isn't acceptable mother behavior and separate the screaming, biting, and scratching kids, as the lady starts hyperventilating.

We head to the register. Caleb meekly says, "Mommy I'm sorry." Two women start swooning over how sweet he is while I laugh a humorless laugh. No way kid! You are NOT forgiven yet! They glare at me, and I'm tempted to send them back to the Spanish speaking woman who is still having heart palpitations in  the shoe department! She'd probably be able to disqualify the sweet innocence of my grounded-for-the-next-17-years kid better than I ever could!

We get in line. The sales person counts my kids. Yes, yes I know I have 5! He stares in horror at Liam who is rolling on the floor and under the partition towards him. He looks at me and says, "You do know that floor is dirty, right?" Oops I thought he was still buckled in the stroller. I pay for the shoes, and gather my kids. Kyler turns to the couple behind us and tells them to have a nice evening....all in one impressively long burp.

And thankfully we have 12 months before I meet the school shopping mountain again.

The gym and other unholy places

So I must confess that I gained an impressive amount of weight while I was growing my last little human. But that's ok, right? You'll just nurse it all off right? No! Not me! I went into that hospital, birthed an 8lb 4oz kid; I came home, excited to hop on that scale to see how low my number had dropped. 5 pounds! What?? 

I finally looked at my husband a few weeks ago and declared that I was sick of how much I weighed and I wanted to be back to where I had been last summer. He eyed the brownies I was holding in each hand and wisely kept his mouth shut. But I knew! I knew exactly what was going through that bald little head of his. So I explained to him that I was currently eating for two, thank you very much. He muttered something about eating brownies for four, and I made sure the next poopy diaper happened when I was busy, to get back at him.

Today I ventured back to the gym. They were nice enough to keep their comments about not seeing me for over 6 months to a minimum. They smiled at my kids and said, "Do you remember which room you go to??"

After dropping kids off, I went back to the very very very back of the gym to the elliptical farthest from anyone's line of sight. They had totally done something to the elliptical machines while I was gone! Like they must have increased the time of the programs and tightened the gears because half way through I was wheezing and seeing spots and begging God not to let my last moments on earth happen without brownies! The little old man next to me, who clearly had an easier elliptical, kept checking to make sure I was still breathing. Had I allowed it, I think he would have started CPR. 

The skinny chicks all around me are hardly breaking a sweat, flipping long golden locks over their shoulders, while my stringy locks should have been wound up in a towel. I left puddles along the floor on my way to the water fountain! I could hear their  musings on just how many brownies this one chick had consumed by herself! Seriously do these girls just never eat?? Thighs like that only exist on photo shop for crying out loud! Maybe next time I'll bring them some brownies. Sheesh!

After my impossibly long stretch on the elliptical, I limped my way to the childcare room. The worker when he saw me asked, "oh, done already?" Dude, If I wasn't wheezing through my newly developed asthma with a face the color of a tomato, I'd kick your hiney!  

My 10 year old kept asking if I was still breathing all the way home. The 4 year old was mad because he was convinced that I was lying when I told him I had not gone swimming without him. He insisted that you can,t get your hair THAT wet just from sweating.

I'm gonna need the next 6 weeks to recover from that traumatic experience. If you need me I will be back on my couch with my non judgmental friends on Gilmore Girls, eating brownies!

Showers, the cable guy and 3am thoughts

Hello world! Its been over one year since my last confession. In that time I have grown another tiny human and have managed to keep her alive for 11 weeks! Much has changed! The regularity of showers for one and all the creative outfits that I can make with sweatpants!

Seriously though, how did I forget how rare and precious showering is when you have a newborn?? My 4 year old finally told me the other day, "Mommy you smell funky, go take a shower!" Of course I can always count on him to be honest! He told a stranger in the store the other day, "My mommy doesn't have a baby in her tummy anymore, now shes just fat." Dude! Thank you for keeping my ego in check!

Several weeks ago all the stars lined up just perfectly in a rare and priceless moment, and I was actually able to climb into the shower while the baby napped. I was thinking how amazing it felt to be clean again, and then that damned door bell rang. The dog barked, the baby started screaming and I knew only one leg was getting shaved today. 

The kids yelled at me that some guy was at the door so I yelled back, "tell him to go away!" I heard my 9 year old say, "My mom can't come to the door, she just got out of the shower and she's naked." People, at least if I am doing nothing else right, I am raising some incredibly honest humans!

My boys inform me that the guy at the door is waiting for me, and I need to hurry up. I wrap my hair in a towel, pick up the screaming baby who has pooped clear up into her hair, and answer the door with mascara still dripping from my eyes. I'm pretty sure my shirt was on backwards!

This poor little unsuspecting cable dude is standing on my doorstep. We stare at each other for a minute. The kid has fear in his eyes! The dog is still yapping and the baby is still screaming. I tell him to come back later. Amazingly enough he does. My dear husband, not knowing the spectacle his wife created of herself earlier in the day, invites the guy in to sit at our kitchen table for 45 minutes and switch our cable. I walked through the kitchen at one point. The cable kid and I were careful not to make eye contact.

I started shopping at 3am. I'm up, why not get something done! Plus  taking 5 kids into a store requires the National Guard! One sweet little old lady came up to me the other day when I was out with all of them. "Honey, are these all YOURS?" I stared at her a minute. I desperately wanted to respond with, "That one is, that one is, I stole that one, and I have no idea where that one came from." but I coughed and just nodded. 

Life is still crazy in the Wilson house. We are still creating memorable and shocking moments. And we are still incredible blessed! 

Some thoughts on my mid-sized family

It's been a while since I have been on here! One of my resolutions this year was to write again. So here I am. 

I have 4 kids. 4 boys with enough energy to power a small country...or even a  medium sized one. I'm told most people don't have 4 kids. And I want more!

I love my big family! I love people's reactions when they see my crew coming! One of our kids' favorites is getting Sonic. We pull up to the little microphone, and my husband leans out and starts ordering. Inevitably the response is always, without fail, "I'm sorry, did you say 15 corn dogs?!?" I am known at my local grocery store as "the lady who buys all the milk". I was asked early on if I froze it or ran a day care, or what exactly I did with 5 gallons of milk every week. 

We are currently building a house....because they don't really make many with a dozen bedrooms. I wanted a double oven...and a double dishwasher! Heck give me two of everything that comes in a kitchen! 

Today is laundry day. I was sorting laundry and thought, "I wonder how many pairs of socks this family owns?" That thought was quickly followed by reason, "Not enough! Because the youngest walked into preschool wearing only 1 this morning!"

My husband woke up this morning and almost fell out of bed. He was mumbling about how if someone would have asked him 10 years ago how many people could sleep in a queen sized bed, he never would have said you could get as many as were in his this morning!

I dress my boys alike as much as I can. People always say how cute it is, but here's my secret: it's really only a safety feature! Once when we were headed out of church and almost to the parking lot, someone stopped us and said there was a lost little boy crying in the foyer. He was wearing the same shirt as all of the kids standing around us, and were we maybe missing one? Sure enough we were! And none of my boys have complained since about wearing the same shirt as their brothers!

A couple of weeks ago, an older lady behind me in the check out line at the store commented about my little brood. She sniffed and said" Someone really needs to tell you how that keeps happening." I laughed, because by now I'm fairly used to it. I know most people don't understand why 4 kids isn't "enough" for me. I know that people think I'm a little crazy...ok, a lot crazy. But you see, they weren't there when I was a little girl and played house and dreamed of being a mommy. They weren't there as I sat in a doctor's office and was told that there was a good possibility I might never have any children. They didn't lay awake praying that a child would fill my womb and keep me up at night and puke all over my shirt. They didn't take medications and have weekly blood draws and chart every single little change in body temperature. They didn't know the heartbreaking loss of losing a baby and another one and another one and never knowing what color hair they would have had.

They weren't there to see all four of my boys piled up together last week, laughing so hard the youngest one wet his pants because someone told a joke about boogers. They didn't see my oldest come wrap his arms around me for no reason or my youngest insist I kiss him on his slobbery chocolaty lips and then loudly proclaim that I was his favorite mommy. They don't see 4 little heads nestled on pillows and sleepy little faces waking up in the morning. 

Yes, I go to bed exhausted most nights. The amount of laundry soap I go through is crazy and may mean that we have to only pick our smartest two to go to college. I haven't gone to the bathroom alone once in the last 9 years and I can forget about ever having a clean toilet!

But I love it! I was made for this! And I will take as many little people who call me mom as I can possibly get! And even more than that I feel immeasurably blessed to have gone through the "infertility" that I have because I was given an invaluable Little gem. A secret that most people don't fully grasp like I was blessed to. These little people are amazing miracles and I'm daily humbled that I get to be called "mom"! These little lives were formed and crafted and carried to delivery on a prayer! These little whirlwinds very easily could have been just a dream. And aren't we all miracles?? There is only one me on this earth! One me to ever have existed! One you that beat every odd and became a living walking real life miracle! And that my friends is awesome!

My Not So Perfect Morning

So did you happen to catch all my bragging little posts on Facebook yesterday?

I felt pretty good about our first day on Summer Vacation! We had spent last week on vacation in NC with my family so yesterday was our first day home. 

I love sleeping in and as soon as summer hits, I forbid my kids to make even the tiniest squeak until after 8! But I pay for it the first 4 months school's back in session. Its soo hard getting up at 6 after sleeping in for a few months! 

This year I have a Preschooler, which means I can't wear my jammie bottoms with a hole in the left butt cheek and the tank top with a stain from when Liam puked peaches all over me, to drop kids off at school. I actually have to get out of the van and walk the Preschool kid to his classroom door. Bra's and brushed teeth are highly encouraged when you are bumping into each other in the hallway while your kid wails not to leave him and your shaking him off of your leg. 

So I decided that I should just keep getting up. My husband is even less of a morning person than I am. He gets up generally 3 minutes after he should have left for work, usually trying to hide his expletives from little ears and asking if his shirt is still tucked into his underwear in the back. He decided that he would try to get up with me so that he only had to drive 10 over the speed limit instead of 15. 

Yesterday we did it! We got up, had a cup of coffee together and I even had  enough time for a quiet time before kids got up. I made breakfast and got groceries and did dishes all before noon! Liam did amazing his first day potty training and a new technique for managing screen time was going great with Micah. I even cleaned the scary mess of Caleb and Kyler's room! It was a great day!

I couldn't wait to repeat it today!

I had kids in and out of my room last night. I didn't sleep good. In fact I had so many interruptions that I woke up this  morning from a dream that even my mom had come and climbed in bed with me!The alarm went off and I seriously thought about dumping the glass of water on my night stand over the top of it to silence it. I kicked my husband. "Babe it's 6:30."

He snorted. "How do you know??" I kinda laughed but kicked him again, "Because the clock says so." 

"Well how do you know its right?"

We got up and had our coffee. He left and I tried to hold my eyes open to start my quiet time. Kids came out and asked what I was doing. They fought with each and whined about being hungry and woke up the other kid that was still sleeping. I kept praying. Although I was praying about that whole not tempting me beyond what I could withstand because I was pretty tempted to reduce the headcount in my home at that exact moment.

I made pancakes. The recipe said it made 10. Mine made 4. I had to make more which means I don't have enough eggs for my cookies I had planned to bake today. Caleb informed me he liked pancakes better when they weren't black. I told him to talk to his brother who had thrown a fit and had needed an "attitude adjustment" which had happened during pancake making time.

I sat down to read with Kyler. He did pretty good for the first 20 minutes. Then I started worrying that we would never get to the end where Curious George finds the puppy and we can all take a break! Pretty soon I realized that there were words I hadn't heard before in this particular story. There wasn't a dinosaur in there when we read it yesterday!

I almost lost it when he read, "George butchered the puppy." He looked up at me and asked if that was right. I did some quick calculations in my head. We had three pages left. Sounding out the correct words took us about 5 minutes a page. Reading these "new" words was getting us through a page at about 1.5 minutes. I smiled at him and said, "Your doing great honey, keep going."

I did Zumba this morning. One kid informed me my butt was bigger than the instructor's on my Wii game and another asked me why my score was so low. 

Finally I had everyone occupied enough so I could hop in the shower. A few minutes of me time. I hopped in and turned to let the hot water run over me. And there occupying my shower with me was a big red scorpion! You know what happens when a tired, slightly overweight, wet woman sees that?? World jumping records! Micah heard me scream. My shower has a head you can take down and spray around. I had my phone up to my ear calling Kevin, I was trying to hold the towel in a position that would cause the least amount of trauma to my eight year old and keeping the shower head spraying on the stupid bug so it couldn't crawl out of the shower onto the very large crowd now staring at it.

Kevin was on the phone wanting to know what in the world I wanted him to do about it 30 miles away. Micah finally got the fly swatter and hit the scorpion. He looked up at me and asked if I thought it was dead. I screamed, "No! Keep hitting it!" After one of its legs flew off and hit me on the face I was finally convinced it wouldn't come back to life. 

All before noon! See I told you yesterday that tomorrow my pride would go before a fall!

Wednesday February 26

I'm writing this blog with plenty of Percocet in my veins, so who knows what I'll say! I know I usually lack an adequate filter as it is, so this could be quite the blog post!

I can't remember who I have talked to in the last few days. I can't really remember what I have said if I have talked to you, and so since I keep repeating a story that I don't really remember much about anyways, I'm writing a short little blog about all that I don't remember. 

Welcome to my groggy drugged up brain. It's disturbing I know. :-)

As we have walked through this ectopic pregnancy journey, nothing really seems to go like we thought it would or planned. Of course I don't know why we expected it to, our life has never really gone as planned. I didn't plan on having 4 boys after I was told I would never have children; I didn't plan that the man of my dreams who I found so charming would ever get on my nerves; I didn't plan that I wouldn't have perfectly behaved children who would think it was hilarious to moon the neighbor lady.

My doctor was super excited about how fast my beta HCG levels were dropping after I received the shot. My levels were on the high side to begin with and I was warned that a second shot was a possibility. We were residents of the ER twice, but things still looked great and outcomes were looking even better than anyone hoped. 

Last Wednesday, I was exactly three weeks past getting the shot, my numbers were clear down to the 300's and I finally felt like I was getting back to my old self. Wednesday morning I got up to get my kids ready for school and I started feeling sick to my stomach. After going to the bathroom I passed out. Convinced I was just getting a nasty stomach bug since the shot I had had weakens the immune system, I convinced my husband to go to work. I called my doctor to make sure he agreed that this was just a stomach bug. Because the pain I had felt before was back, my doctor agreed that this was nothing serious; possibly the larger parts of the pregnancy passing. He instructed me to take 800mg of ibuprofen, and lay down until he called me back after he got out of surgery. 

I went to get the ibuprofen from the kitchen but realized that every time I tried to stand up I was fighting to stay conscious. My kids found the medicine and I knew that unless I was ok experimenting with my 8 year olds driving abilities, I needed to figure out another way to get my kids to school that didn't include unconscious or under aged drivers.

My amazing friend Amanda came and took my boys to school. Through these last few weeks she has helped me with my boys so much and I'm starting to worry that the front office will require me to have written permission from her to get my kids as there may be some confusion as to who their mom is! 

My doctor called me back and admitted that this didn't seem to be the normal course of events, but he still felt that the chances of something life threatening were very very slim considering how well things had been progressing. We have been wracking up some pretty impressive medical bills through this, and so we decided to try and get an appointment with one of the doctors at the practice I go to instead of heading into the ER yet again. As I was waiting for a return call to schedule an appointment, I felt like something was really really wrong. I couldn't think clearly at all, and yes I know most of you know me well enough to know that this in itself is not cause for immediate concern. Along with the cloudy mental state, I was finding it harder and harder to hang into consciousness. I was dry heaving and didn't have the strength to hold my head up. 

I was scared about the fact that my two and three year old were alone with me in the house, and that fear prompted me to call my husband telling him he needed to get home now! Knowing he had a 30 minute drive from work, I called 911 after talking to him.

Things get really hazy and I don't remember much after that. The paramedics arrived and started asking me questions. I had extreme pressure in my lungs and shoulders and it hurt to breathe and even more to talk. I knew I should be answering their questions, but I couldn't; I struggled to even understand exactly what they were asking me. 

I was put into the ambulance and at one point I wanted to point out that I was leaving my home without shoes, but didn't have the strength to do it. I don't really remember the ride to the hospital. I know one of the paramedics told me I needed to keep breathing or he was going to put a tube down my throat.

At the hospital there were a lot of people who were moving me and any movement caused excruciating pain. I started crying and thought it odd that the nurse was glad that I was crying; I think she was glad I was somewhat responsive.

I was left alone for I don't know how long, but it was a blessed relief to lay still and sleep. After several bags of fluids through my IV I was much more aware of what was going on around me. Kevin came, but had to go get the rest of the kids from school so my friend Amanda came to be with me. 

One time when I was alone in my room my nurse told me that on the way to the hospital my blood pressure was so low, they couldn't get the machine to even read it and that I was very very lucky.

I had an ultrasound where the technician told me that my tube had indeed ruptured and that there was to much blood in my abdomen to even measure it. 

People filled my room and I was poked a lot as I was readied for surgery. My doctor warned me that because of how messy the ultrasound looked, he would probably have to open me up instead if doing the procedure laparoscopically. I signed a consent for a blood transfusion. Just before they wheeled me out of the room to the OR, the most beautiful faces walked in the door. Four little boys and the man who had loved me enough to create them with me. They were drenched from the pouring rain outside. They were all scared. I got several kisses that had snot mixed in with them and my husband squeezed my neck and whispered he loved me. And I knew I would never ever give up fighting for just one more day with these amazing souls that were my life!
My kids went home with our babysitters family.This family has taken our boys every time we end up in the hospital. Whats so impressive about this is that they have 8 children of their own. They have kept my boys over night and taken them to church and taken them out to a restaurant. The father of this amazing family was asked when they were out with 12 kids if they were all theirs. He exclaimed "Oh no! we only have 8!" They are an incredible incredible family and we love them so much!

Surgery is so weird because one minute your chatting and talking and perfectly coherent and the next they are telling you to wake up. There's really no in between, no dreams or even time to freak out that you are going to be cut open!

My doctor told me that they hadn't had to open me up, that they had done it all laporoscopically, that my hematocrit and other levels were even better than his was and that amazingly he had even managed to save the tube! He has suctioned a liter of blood out of my abdomen, and I could go home that night.

The nurses were talking while I was waking up. They were talking about how crazy it was that I was doing so well after how bad I was in the beginning.

There are lots of times I wonder if a God who is the creator of the universe, who oversees wars and starving people and planets and oceans really does know or care about the details of my little insignificant life. I was blown away by the confirmation that indeed He does as I listened to those nurses go over numbers several times.

I'm home now. My husband is Mr. Mom yet again. He can't believe how much laundry this family creates in only three days, he's baffled by how much a 28 pound little kid can poop, and he sits in our boys' room at night talking to them about how it's ok to be scared sometimes, and that they can always talk to him when they are.

And I'm still caught up in the wonder of how incredible God's love is for little insignificant me!