Where is that rascally shoe?

I am amazed at the mind of a ten year old. Make that a ten year old boy. I think if I were to live to be 104 years old, I will not understand this quagmire that is the male mind. Everyday our children are required to pick up their rooms right after breakfast. Mind you one of the last things they did the night before was pick up toys, but I guess we have a ghoul of some sort that comes out at night and plays with my kids favorite toys and leaves them to be picked up in the morning. Sorry, that was just too cute of a rabbit to not chase. Anyway, I went to get clothes from Malcolm and Heath's room to start our packing process. The closet is crammed with whatever the two boys did not want to actually put up. So they got to come put all the toys where they belong. I clean out drawers while gritting my teeth, because if they would have put their clothes away the right way, I wouldn't be refolding them at this point. Huge pet peeve. I then ask Malcolm to finish cleaning up the closet. It would be nice if the drawers would actually close, the shoes be matched up, and all the "stuff" that is shoved between the wall and drawers be put up where they belong.

In record time, Malcolm is done with this despised job. That should have sent alarms clanging in my head, but I guess I was preoccupied. I went back to get socks or something, and asked about a backpack that seemed full. I get some vague, non-reply as I see my son disappear suddenly out the door. The backpack is full of single shoes, hats, trash and what-not that he didn't feel like putting away anymore. Ugh! It took more time to fill that bag, cram into the little space Mom wasn't suppose to look, cover with other things, then it would have taken if he would have just put the stuff away. Then I went back tonight to get shoes, and can't find the match to two of his shoes. Our conversation went something like this:

"Do you know where your other flip flop and tennis shoe are?"

"Um, my what?"

"Look. Right here. Two shoes, don't match. They are huge. Can't miss them. Know where the pairs are?"

"Um . . ."

"Listen. You have one more chance. I know you know that you have two feet, and therefore, two shoes that match to cover those said feet. DO YOU KNOW WHERE THE OTHER SHOES ARE?"

"Um, I think"

He crawls between me, the closet door, a toy bin, and the bed. Half disappears behind the bed and comes out with the flip flop. Then repeats the procedure to produce the tennis shoe. Why were they there, and how did he know they were there you ask? He put them there because he didn't want to turn around and take a half step and set them on top of his clothes drawers.

I just don't comprehend.

Car blues

Have you ever owned a huge massive car? One that you know has to be huge based upon the negative bank account balance every time you fill up the car? But, of course, they don't make cars that seat eight as energy savers. Having the big SUV was really nice at first. We bought the car when we had five children. so we still had one empty seat. An empty seat that in theory could be used to separate arguing children. They soon figured out they could still argue half a car away. They were using there words just like mom said, not their fists. Anyway, I digress. Now the car is completely full. I mean completely. Three car seats, twelve arms, twelve legs, six very verbal mouths (even if it's not actual words that are coming out), 60 fingers, 16 half-read books with torn pages, 26 lost toys, and enough left over fast food wrappers to paper the kitchen. Oh, and of course Heath and I. And when we travel Heath somehow stuffs every last thing we own into the car, because you never know when you may have need for a half broken, never played with, we're not really sure what it is toy.

So we are taking our last vacation in this particular car soon. There will be eight suitcases, two strollers, a travel crib, three car seats, toys, pillows, blankets, two boxes of diapers, a case of wipes, and the eight people all in the car at once. This is why Heath and I opted to travel at night a few years ago. We load up late at night, and everyone sleeps while Dad drives us to our destination. It's great. No one fighting over their territory. No drink mishaps. The only bathroom breaks involve the one adult who can stand to relieve himself, so no incredibly disgusting germs to have to scrub off for the next week. And when the kids start waking up ready for breakfast, we are miraculously a few miles away from our stopping point. Of course, Heath will then sleep for the next six hours, but it works.

But I mentioned that this is the last trip for this car. Not because the car is old and breaking down. No, we soon will have a family so big it will no longer be able to legally ride in the car together. That's right folks. We have maxed out the largest SUVs that are made. So guess what is our next option? You know those scary vans that drive down the road? The ones with no windows that you know have to be doing something illegal? Yeah, that's what we get to look at to drive. Not only drive, I'm going to have to actually pay someone so I can have the pleasure of driving one! Can they make uglier vehicles? Boy I can't wait for the first trip to Wal-Mart in my sporty 12 passenger van. I can see it now. No one will park anywhere near us, and mother's all over the parking lot will be warning their children to never go near a van like that one. Only scary, child-nappers drive vehicles like that. And they are just waiting for you to get close enough to grab. Ugh. Well, I guess if I were to try to look at the bright side, we shouldn't have any of those huge gashes in the side of the car where someone threw their door open and took out the side panel of your door.

So, the hunt begins. Finding an automobile with enough seats for our growing family, space to pack suitcases and such, without it being too terribly ugly and scary. I think we shall call this "Mission Impossible"!

Friends

Woohoo! My best friend is coming today! And guess what is so cool about her? I haven't treated her like a best friend in a year or more, but she still is taking a day out of her busy schedule of visiting family, and driving over an hour out of her way to come see me, and share her three children with me! I can't wait. Told you she was a best friend!

Firsts!

Well, I am officially joining the world of bloggers. It looks like loads of fun, and yet scares all the moisture right out of me! So, to encourage myself to begin this journey, I came up with a list of reasons to have a blog.

10. All my extended family can keep track of us much better.

09. Household of 8, living on one salary, this looked like free therapy.

08. Doesn't everyone want to know all about my life and my family?

07. Everyone else is doing it.

06. I have a need, periodically to brag. Just a little. Not too terribly much. Okay, so you will probably read one every blog, but I won't keep a count.

05. Where else can I have a well organized, all in one place, never lost record of my kids childhood?

04. I wanted to see if I was funny.

03. Something that is all my own. That doesn't happen very often!

02. I wanted to make my mom laugh, so I made a list.

01. Did I mention free therapy?

So, I figured that with today being my baby's first birthday, this would be a great day to start. We have birthdayed since we got up this morning, earlier than usual of course, until very late. It was so much fun, and very sentimental for me. The older four kids wrote and sang a song for her, which was so surprising and uncharacteristic for them. Well, very uncharacteristic for my oldest Malcolm. He was the one that instigated the whole thing. Paulee somehow knew I think that the day was all about her. She held the spotlight quite well. And I have to brag just a little (refer to number 6). I sewed her outfit, and she made it so absolutely adorable!

We are also in the process of getting things ready for the new school year. We will be homeschooling for the first time. Kind of scary, but the fun will so out weigh the fear. I hope. Heath is starting kindergarten, and can't wait because he will finally find out from where raisens come. Daniel is in second grade and drooling to start an art program. Jeffie Jean is a third grader, and doesn't care what she learns in book knowledge as long as I teach her to sew this year. And then you have Malcolm. He is technically in 5th grade, wishing he was in high school, and working daily to get there. He's getting close too.

I have blogged about everyone except our two year old, Terry. But don't worry, he'll get plenty of publicity. From him wearing his sisters heals, playing with her dolls, the run-by hitting to his dad, to the list of general mayhem and distruction, he'll see plenty of blogging space.

That's the start. Before I know it, I'll be writing everything down so I can "blog" about this later!