Who's the boss anyway?

I have always heard that the youngest child is always a spoiled brat. I thought that was a myth though. I didn't realize that much of these stories come about after years and years of people pro-creating and discovering the reality of it all. The eldest really is self sufficient. The middle does usually get lost somewhere in the middle and the youngest tends to run the household. I'm finding this out five children and five years later.

When I speak of our youngest child Luci, I always seem to refer to her as the baby, except, she's not a baby. She is a month away from being five years old. I have undoubtedly enabled her to be as un-self sufficient as she could possibly be. I did this by pure accident, sub-consciously. I didn't realize this until she was three and a half years old and someone mentioned she must be wearing " big girl panties." I thought this was crazy! She was just a baby! Why would she be potty training? Then I remembered that Annah was potty trained by the time she was two! She was the first of course, I was bound to impress the pediatrician with my mad parenting skills.

I have had an issue that needs council. I refuse to let my youngest grow up. She is of course my last baby I will ever have, I supose many mothers think this way. This is how we end up with the "last child spoiled syndrome." Luci has never had to share, the other kids had to share with her, she was the baby you know! She never had to dress herself, I always did it for her. She still comes to sleep in our bed, and her brothers and sisters always help her get her shoes and coat on.

I did not realize this was a problem until the past week. Ok, perhaps there have been obvious signs for a year now. This past week though, she has been very whiney; too tired to walk down stairs, insisting to sleep in our room. She never has a tantrum, just wimpers. She has made her own rules such as " I will go to bed if YOU find my blankie," and steps, "step one, you find my blankie, step two you bring it to me." I couldn't believe my ears! The other day she told me not to give her that look! I responded with "I didn't give you a look and I'm your mom I can give you a look if I want." she said " you may be the mom, but I'm the boss!" That is when I knew I had a problem. Yes, indeed the last child syndrome.

I finally had a talk with her after our last senerio sittin,g her down like an adult at the table. I had asked her if she new where my keys were and she responded, "no, so deal with it." Again I could not believe my ears.
What had happened to my precious baby Luci. My " precious angel?" I know this is my fault. So while my eldest child resights the square root of pie and has a 4.0 GPA. I am spending my time trying to teach my five year old manners and how to put her own shoes on. If I had another baby I would be sure to not make the same mistake. However if I had another baby she wouldn't be experiencing the last child syndrom now would she?

Just an Ordinary Day

Today has been an ordinary day. We attended church. The pastor gave a very interesting sermon. Nicholas drove me crazy and I ended up yelling, literally yelling at him, not once but twice in the chapel. I have never done that in the 5yrs. we have attended church there. He was crawling under the pews, refusing to stand, coloring on the money envelopes and nagging his brothers and sisters. He moaned and groaned about coming to church.
The children went up to the stage for children's story where Luci entertained the congregation by repeatedly hiking her dress to shimmy up hey nylons.
When we left I treated the kids to Bob Evans, where we waited in the crowed lobby for 20mins. to get a table. Nicholas inspected every sale item in the lobby, including the foldable reading bifocals. Right before they seated us he went potty. Of course they seated us while he was in the bathroom so I had to send Drew to find him. Drew ran back to the table announcing that Nick had diarrhea. It was obvious by the staring that everyone in a 10ft. radius heard his announcement also.
Finally Nick came to the table and we ordered our food. Our conversation consisted of "why we don't order pop with our breakfast, and where did Cassidy ever learn to order diet coke?" "Why some packages don't have a green crayon," "The very lame jokes on the back of the kids menu's" and "how I told Luci she didn't like cantaloupe or honeydew, but she ordered fruit salad anyways." When we were finished Nick nicely announced to the restaurant how he was so full he was gonna thow up. I was partially embarrassed and partially too exhausted to care.
We headed on to my girlfriend Jen's house for a brief visit where the dog spilled my coffee on me. I changed her baby's poopy diaper, (it was obvious she needed a break too) and my kids broke her son's toy. Then we headed home.
My husband had sent me a text stating he went grocery shopping so I didn't have to. It was nice but I knew it was too good to be true. Sure enough when I arrived home my house looked worse from one day of him being home that it does when all the kids have been home. I checked out his shopping supplies. junk, junk, junk, green bananas, junk. I wasn't about to complain. I just went back to the store and bought actual food.
Nicholas complained about dinner, as did Luci, and for some reason my bedroom is the place to hang, because the kids have been up there the rest of the evening watching Hannah Montana, Even Annah, who is too old and cool to watch Hannah Montana. I have continued to be aggravated by Nick who had been poking and pinching his brother and sisters, licking my arm and changing the TV channels. I told him to get in the shower, but instead found him sitting in the bath water in his underwear, filling an empty shampoo bottle with water and pretending to pee it out. I really don't know about that boy. He is currently brushing his hair to look like Elvis.
Andrew is talking about his big toes being the only ones that the nails grow and how he still has his band aids on his arms from Friday when he got his shots Luci is mad that I didn't name her Samantha, Cassidy is rerunning Hannah Montana, and no one will ever know what is going through Annah, the pre-teens head. Doug went to watch the football game at someones house. I currently feel like burning his eyeballs out on our wedding pic in front of me and drawing a mustache on him. AND I of course am sitting here blogging. What's interesting is that although I am on the computer, I still know every conversation going on in this house. Ah well, that's my ordinary day, nothing special. I'm exhausted so I'm off to get the kids in bed. Over and out!

Dear Mr. Murphy, No one likes your law

(Graphic, but true)
Call me a source of negativity, but I love quoting Murphy's law, If anything can go wrong, it will. Now that doesn't mean I like it. In fact, I'm not sure anyone likes it, but it does seem to be true. Especially when it comes to children.
If they have to pee, it's when there is no bathroom, when there's a bathroom there is no toilet paper and If you found a babysitter for the night, someone will always end up sick.
People don't tell you this when you have babies. Its more like, "aww, congratulations, you're going to make wonderful parents, I wanna be the first one to babysit!" What they really mean is, "Do you know what you have done? Thanks a lot now were never going to go out on our weekly date night" and "don't call me to babysit."
Murphy's law has reeked a lot of havoc on our family. For instance, Dear Andrew...Loves to go fishing with his father. An announcement is always made to use the bathroom before you leave the house. Murphy always gets the best of him though, while miles off the beaten path, at the favorite fishing hole, Andrew has to poop. You can imagine the chaos that surrounded that moment. The only thing funny about the situation is that it was the same child who had to poop while sled riding last year when there was no bathroom anywhere. That situation was also a disaster.
The most recent run in with Mr. Murphy's law was yesterday. Poor Nick had to be sent home from school ill. He had vomited, luckily in the waste basket at school. What made the situation difficult was that I was babysitting for my girlfriend, and the baby was napping. No one wants to wake a napping baby. Its nearly against the law.
Quickly the day went from calm to pure hell. Now I have worked in the medical field for 10 years and never have I seen so much projectile vomiting in my life. Within an hour I was disinfecting my couch, floor, kitchen sink and a Pyrex dish...it was the closest thing in reach. Not long after my husband came home. Don't worry about him, he went straight to our room and fell asleep. Anyways, If anything can go wrong it will, and it did. Diarrhea struck and my home seemed to be filled with grossed out children, a sick child and who the hells baby is this? These are the moments where all mothers wish at the very least that they have eight arms; one to hold the bowl, one to strip the sheets, one for making tea, one for the baby that doesn't live with you and so on.
The only time that was ever worse was when Andrew vomited at 3am from the top bunk. I seriously contemplated grabbing my purse and walking right out the front door. Perhaps if I was getting payed it wouldn't seem to bad. At work I never get grossed out. But at home...I need someone to take care of me by the end of the night. Perhaps Mr. Murphy. Luckily the baby was claimed by her mother, Doug was still asleep. Nick did end up in the ER, but with the pure hell of an IV he is back to being his crazy self.
I still think Mr. Murphy should know thought that his law stinks and people with children should be exempt. Every mother has or will experience these moments. Luckily we love our children so much that after a day or so of healing, even we can laugh at the situation. You just have to tell yourself, if anything can go wrong, it will, and I will laugh about it later. Just remember that.

Mafias, Mobs and Autoimmune diseases

Mafias, mobs and auto immune diseases. If they don't kill you, they will surely make your life a living hell. Even if an auto immune disease or AID can't hold you down and beat in your knees with a two by four, I guarantee it will still feel like it did.

AID's no matter which one you have stink. We seem to have a family history of them. I was diagnosed three years ago with mine. What I have learned is that they are like the duck game at the fair. Pick a duck and see what you won. Unfortunately for me I picked the duck where the marker is wearing off, so no one knows what I have won yet. Lupus? Rheumatoid Arthritis? We can assume it's one or the other. Some how one always sounds better than the other and at the same time no one would ever want to have either. ya...

I am a really high strung, high energy, cant keep me down kind of girl. Reality is, I can't be any other way. If I stop, my world stops and if the world stops rotating, it would break out in pure chaos.

Sometimes I think I have tried more drugs than a while lab rat. I refer to myself as getting old. People always tell me "your not anywhere near old!" but the fact of the matter is, if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, its probably a duck. If you have five kids, drive a mini van, have tons of joint pain, own a days of the week pill pack and your doctor prescribes you water aerobics and stool softeners...I'd say your getting old.

I guess in the end you either let it consume you or you take charge. I have been told you can receive disability for this. The government may have to investigate whether or not you have an AID or were actually attacked my the mafia though. I have met other people with these diseases and it's interesting to see how people handle them differently. Some do give up and let it consume them, others fight back with full force running marathons, raising awareness and having foundations named after them and some are like me, somewhere in the middle. Most of the time I get on with my life, there are too many great things out there to explore to sit around in pain. There are always days though when I sulk, whine and question the situation. If I went on disability, I think that's what my life would consist of. I'm not saying there aren't people who don't truly need it. But it's certainly not for me.

So if you wake up one day and think Tony Soprano or Tony Montana or Don Vito Corleone has thrown you in their trunk, pistol whipped you and dropped you back home all while you were in your slumbers, you may want to consider a visit to your local rheumatologist.

My First Ramble

Being a mother of five, my life is pretty chaotic. It doesn't help that I am a natural busy body, occupying myself with more than I can usually handle, even if I don't have to! Provoking my entries would be my husband Doug, you could on any given day consider him one of my children, Juliannah a.k.a Annah 12, Andrew a.k.a Drew 8, Cassidy a.k.a. Cass 7, Nicholas a.k.a Nick 7 and our baby Luci a.k.a Lulu 4. Ok so she's not a baby, but she's our baby!

We have a dog. Frankie, whom I'm not totally convinced is...how do you put it?...working with full mental capacity? He is dumb. Probably the worst dog I have ever owned, the kids want another dog, but I explained to them that I can't have another dog with one that seems to be handicapped. There is also a cat whom is owned my my son. His therapist suggested it would be good for his "tactile disfunctions." He picked the hairiest one at the Humane Society and named him Jar Jar Binx. Try taking that to the vet. We have a everlasting, fish, as I would call him bionic catfish. He has survived a move, a suicide jump from the tank and a heater that went on the fritz and fried all the others. And last a pretty cute love bird, messy, but cute. We are I suppose, the American Family.

I coached youth cheer leading this year, something I never thought I would do. Joined the Band Boosters and attended all but two of Juliannahs football games, rain, mud and all. I purchased my son's first cup for football and learned that it doesn't matter how much febreze you use, you will never want to stick your head in his gym bag like they do on TV. I attended football games that went morning noon and night, on my Saturdays, with no wins at the end. I cheered up two little boys who wanted nothing more than a win. All while occupying a very bored 4yr. old. Oh did I mention I coached cheer leading? Six six year olds with the attention span of well, my dog. I was mortified when I took the position but honestly left the end of the season really content and feeling adored. My husband tried out his first year coaching also, both Drew's baseball and Nick's football team. He said he was going to quit, now he is the league trustee. :)

Doug does not like the idea of a blog, it's just more time of me on the computer, which by the way is no more time than him in front of the TV. However, I am trying this out at the longtime requests of my friends. Supposedly my trials and tribulations bring great humor to those around me. In all honesty, you have to laugh, we all do, and if it's at my own expense so be it! So laugh on!