blogging, biking, squished fingers, bare bums, friends, swimming lessons, parent meetings, reigning and yellow t-shirts

I keep telling myself I'm going to get more hard-core with this blog, and then I don't blog for days, weeks, forever. Sometimes I think that there isn't enough interesting stuff going on, or that the things that are keeping me busy aren't going to be all that exciting for the general public.

I had a good idea the other day, then I forgot what it was.

This morning I went biking. I had this little 9.4 mile route mapped out. I had originally wanted to run, but I woke up with a sore, thick throat and figured that biking would be easier. Maybe if I was a biker. I run over the overpass all the time - twice each run. Today? I biked over it on my way out and almost died, and then took a different route home. I also turned back early at only 6 miles. I felt a little wimpy, but I'm going to blame being a little sick. Nothing like waking up with your eyelashes glued shut with eye-snot to make a person excited to get up and exercise at 5:30am.

Whatever. The world needs fat people too. Who else is going to keep the granola bar companies in business? Do you have any idea how many people work at those companies? Me neither, but I bet it's a lot.

My youngest two are squealing with delight and opening and slamming the bathroom door. Once upon a time I'd have freaked out at the thought of little fingers being squished in there, and stopped the game at once. Now? I put bets on which kid is going to be the first. I'm going to say Elliot. Then she'll slap him on his head and run away. Sibling joy.

I'm really full of granola bars right now. It's kind of my secret sin. I love them. I had eggs and kraft dinner for supper, and there's something about Kraft Dinner - no matter how much I eat don't feel full. Hence the granola bars.

Apparently Mitchell can't pull up his pants and underwear. He wants to know if I'll do it. Will I? Perhaps.

Feeling kind of slumpy.

I'm going to the Home and School parent meeting tonight. I have this fear of walking into a room of Stepford Mommies. I've talked about SM's before. I have no desire to be one. I don't have the energy for it. My kids laugh and play a lot, love each other and love me - regardless of whether they're wearing underwear.

Part of me feels like putting on Steven's old sweatpants and hoodie and mix matched sandals with socks in them, donning a messy side pony tail, chewing eight pieces of gum and sitting in the front row right in the middle.

But I won't. Because I'm a wussy.

I'm sure it'll be fine.

I won't even tell you why I had to pick Jordan up early from school today. Someday she might read this blog and be mad. I don't want to embarrass my kids. She's kind of getting to an age where I don't want to just splash all the bits of her life and self onto the internet. She's a fun, spunky, bull-headed kid, and I love her for so many reasons. She's so far removed from the 1, 2, and 3 year old moving through stages the same as other kids. Not that they're all the same, but her personality, fears, characteristics, etc. are so much more pronounced all the time and some of it should be up to her to share. I'm sure that when she's old enough to write, type and be merry that she'll start up her own blog. That would be cute. I might let her. It might have to be a private blog to hide her from online scary people. Not that everyone online is scary. I know a few people online that I've never met in real life. I'd probably be scared to. Does anyone else have a fear of inviting over a new friend, and then not having anything interesting to say and completely boring and disillusioning said new friend? No? Okay, me neither.

I'm going to pick up my kids from swimming lessons soon.

As per facebook:

I want to go to the Home and School meeting tonight. It starts at 7. The kids' swimming lessons go from 6-6:30 and from 6:30-7. My plan was to send him swimming with them and show up there at 6:45 to collect the first kid and then wait in the van with three of them while he hurries out with the 4th at 7:00. I figured I'd be a few minutes late, but no big deal. His plan? For me to just drop off Mitchie and Elliot with him at the pool at 6:45. His funeral. lol

Right, I'm not picking anyone up - I'm actually leaving Steven with more kids. Preschool aged. At the local swimming pool, where the older two kids are in lessons with their friends and will behave like angels at departure time, I'm sure.

He's one of those dads that will take the reins (I almost wrote "reigns" - but that's not right, pretty sure they reign in this house more than we do) anytime he needs to. I'm not saying he won't be beating his head against the wall by the time he's got them in bed, but he'll be happy to send me on my way again the next night if needed. I love that.

Because kids have that "head beating against the wall" effect on people. Luckily, Daddy has a nice hard head. The wall doesn't stand a chance.

Not much else. I feel a little ill from kraft dinner and granola bars. Who on earth feeds that to their kids for supper? Good grief. I'm going to call CFS on myself. It might get me a few days off. But then the boys would miss yellow (or "wellow" if you ask Mitchie) week at nursery school, and Tennyson is really into the colour weeks. Right - I have to run to Walmart tonight for two yellow t-shirts.

It never ends.

But it will, and will it ever be quiet in here without them. :(
I'll hear all this new noise, and realize it's the sound of my own thinking - if it's not rusted right out by then.