Just call him The Saver

A few days ago a baby squirrel was attacked and almost eaten by two dogs passing by. The owner was able to wrestle the it from the mouth of his dogs. He tossed the squirrel back into my yard. Apparently all of my kids and the neighborhood kids witnessed this entire ordeal. Just seconds after all the commotion of children yelling and running both to and away from the injured squirrel my fiance was pulling in from work. After piecing together this almost frantic story from a handful of children he found the squirrel and brought it into our house. I though that this was going to be as simple as calling animal rescue and waiting for them to show up and do what it is they do in this situation. However my fiance had different plans. He was going to nurse it back to health himself.

I was not quite ok with that plan but if you could see the look in his eye. He loved this squirrel probably almost as much as our children. I had to buy a small cage for it that evening. It was either that or it was going to be sleeping in a shirt pocket hung at the end of our bed. Squirrely (that is what my fiance named him) is still here with us. He has recovered from his traumatic accident but is now like one of the family. He plays with the kids and watches tv and is kind enough to eat all the food the kids drop on the floor. He even goes to work with my fiance. They are like peas and carrots. I am sure that he will someday get his animal instincts back and we will have to release him in a tree across the street. Until then he sleeps in flannel shirt pocket that I am currently wearing. He is really starting to grow on me and we will all be sad to see him go.

30 confirmed RSVP's

My step son and my middle daughter are two weeks apart. We treat them like twins in some respects. Especially when it comes to their birthday parties. I have always had them on the same day. I am sure when they get older this will be less acceptable for them. Until then double parties it is. I live directly across the street from a giant park with a convenient pavilion where I have had all of my children's birthday parties. It makes everything less complicated and easier to cart things around before and after the party. Mother nature ruined my plans this year. Who would have thought that they would be calling for a Nor'easter the first weekend of April. Sure as hell not me and the other thirty parents that RSVP for their child. I had no plan B nor did I have enough money to take them to a party place. I looked into hotel conference rooms. No luck. Luckily I was able to get a giant room at the local business college. I went an hour or so early and set the room up to house 30+ kids and almost just as many adults. The night before I baked 65+ cupcakes. We played Limbo, pinata, and the sun came out the last part of the party and the kids were able to play at the YMCA playground. I was not in fear of my safety until we played pinata. As luck would have it that day both my wiffle ball bats were out of commission. The only thing I had left was a metal softball bat. I made sure everyone stayed back out of the danger zone but I had no choice but to lead a small blindfolded child into battle. I had more than a few close calls. I made it out without any injuries. The pinata lasted thru all the kids. So everyone got at least one swing. Then I let my two oldest step daughters take it down. I should have moved faster cause once that candy hit the floor it was like the carpet came to life. Children were everywhere! I barely made it out with my shoes on. After two hours all the parents came to pick up their kids. I am sure more than a few were surprised we were all still standing. We ended out evening by taking all of my kids and my nephews to see Monster Trucks. We had our own private catered box. They all had a blast. It is surely a day they will never forget.

Clothing issues

Today was a hell of a day for getting dressed. I started my morning at 7:30am. I woke up my two oldest daughters for school. They get dressed in their rooms before coming out for breakfast. My eight yr old comes up first. She has on the brown jogging pants that I hate so much. She is still boycotting jeans by the way. Her shirt is two sizes to big and a hideous shade of pink. I tell her for the 85th time that I hate those pants and she just rolls her eyes and continues to the kitchen. A few minutes later my six yr old comes up. She has on a shirt that was once a shirt and is now a bordering on a sports bra. I bring to her attention the fact that I can see her stomach. This only reminds her to yank on the bottom of the shirt in an effort to stretch it back into place. No such luck. When I tell her that it is just to small for her she argues with me. After ten minutes of debating the proper fit of a shirt she decides to change it. Only this time her shirt is also two sizes to big. I am starting to think I should bag up the hand me downs til they almost fit. The girls get on the bus and I think my clothes debates are over for the day. Boy was I wrong!
When I get my baby out of bed for the day she immediately runs to the bathroom door and starts to pull at her pj's. She apparently wanted a bath. Even though she had one less than 12hrs ago. I strip her down and give her a bath. Once she is all clean and done playing I take her out. I lay her down on my bed to dress her and she proceeds to throw a fit. It took me ten minutes just to get her diaper on her. She is still wearing just a diaper as I write this. I guess she is just boycotting clothes all together.
Next I get my son dressed. Everything was going smoothly until we got to the socks. I had a pair of black ankle socks. Before I could put them on he says " NO I want white ones." At first I did not realize he was even talking about the socks. So I proceed to try and put them on his feet. Bad idea! He started yelling and screaming that he wanted white socks. I lost that battle because he has on his white socks. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day in the wardrobe department.

The system is there for the worthless

I learned today that the child support system is there for the worthless. My childrens father was ordered to pay me support almost two years ago. For three kids he was only ordered to pay 213 monthly. Yep thats it grand total for three kids. That breaks down to 50 bucks a week, divided by three is somewhere around $17. I have yet to find a way to make that work and seeing as how I have never received more than a few payments I guess I may never.
Recently I found out that he was working at a tree service place making pretty decent money. They were able to attach his wages and I got a few payments which total $182. The enforcement officer at domestic relations suggested that I file for a modification of support. I was hesitant to do this. I figured why rock the boat at least he is paying me something. Which was more than he had ever done in the past. Eventually I decided to file for the modification. I mean is it really fair to my kids that he constantly goes on trips of of state and has new clothes while they sit home. He obviously had money to shop and go on vacation so why not help with the kids for once.
Today was the modification hearing. It was during this hearing that I learned that he was no longer working at the tree service place. Nor was he working anywhere else for that matter. OH yea did I mention that he did not even show up for this hearing. So there I sat trying to explain to the man behind the desk the cycle of ridiculousness that is my childrens father. He has a history of getting jobs and keeping them just long enough to make some money for himself before domestics attaches his wages. Not to mention his numerous warrants and criminal history. So because he is worthless and more than likely addicted to drugs they can not justify raising his support. Basically since he is to stupid to keep a good job they can not make him pay anymore. I was actually informed that technically he should only be ordered $105 a month since he is not working. WTF! Since when are there rewards for being worthless? So yet again he has slipped under the radar and gets to continue his life as a freeloading dead beat. My next step is to appeal it and go in front of the Judge. Hopefully that changes something. Until then I will still hunt him like a dog to try and collect the $5,600 that he owes me.

Michael Jackson lives!

My three year old son has been potty trained for awhile now. It was pretty easy to do actually. I simply told him one day that we were out of diapers and that he had to start going on the potty. Granted we have had a few set backs since then. For a few nights he had to wear a pull up. That was short lived. Then there was a period of a few weeks where he would poop on the bathroom floor. I still have no idea why but I am thankful he stopped doing that.

His newest issue stems from his recent enrollment in preschool. It is policy that an adult accompany the children to the bathroom. I understand this rule more after seeing some of the children in his class. They are bad and look like they would play in the toilet and possibly carve their name on the stall door. Because of this he thinks that I should take him to the bathroom and wait with him. If he was an only child this may be possible. Unfortunately I have three other kids to attend to.

At first I would try to reason with him and explain how it was just nor possible for me to stay with him the whole time. A week went by and he became increasingly whiny about me not being there. Then out of no where he tells me he can not go by himself because Michael Jackson was in the bathroom. What?! I had to play along. So I walked him to the door and asked him to show me. He opens up the bathroom door and walks over to the toilet and points down in the bowl. Michael Jackson was inside the toilet! He insisted that I flush it before he would even go. Now I do not know where he came up with this but I find it strange and funny at the same time. I have yet to witness Michael Jackson in the bathroom or toilet but this fear has lasted a few weeks. Whats next Elvis?

Terrible Twos a little early...

My fiance has been working alot lately. Sometimes 12 or 14 hrs a day. This makes me feel like a single mom. I am stuck in the house all day with anywhere from two to four children. Individually they don't bother me. It is when you put them all in the same room to play that things get loud and crazy. You would think in a mess of a million toys they would all be in heaven. Not such the case. It seems that there is always one magical toy that captures all of their attention at the same time. Sharing is never an option. Screaming and yelling ensues. I let them fight it out for a minute or two thinking that they will come to some sort of agreement. Sure not! I have to repeatedly go in break it up and decide who should play with what. My baby is the worst of them all. She is a vicious one year old. If she wants something she will attack you until she gets it. Perfect example of this behavior is when my two oldest girls are sitting at the computer desk. No matter what they are doing, whether it be homework or disney.com, she wants to be on the chair with them. There is not enough room for her to sit with them so she does the only thing she can do. Torture and maim. She pinches, hits, pulls hair, scratches and screams bloody murder. Yes she is ONE! Her ridiculous antics don't stop there. She does the same to me and her dad to. I swear she is going thru her terrible twos early. I can't be mad at her though cause she is just so damn cute

Showers were so much easier before kids.

I usually take showers late at night when the kids are all asleep. I learned that this is way less stressful than taking one when the sun is up. Last night I was way to tired to attempt to stand in the shower. I figured maybe just maybe I could sneak one in before the baby woke up. No such luck. So when she laid down for her nap I saw this as my window of opportunity. My three yr old was content playing in his room. I let him know that I would be right next door in the bathroom. Soon after I stepped in the shower he threw the door open. I guess he was eager to inform me that the baby is now awake and complaining from her play pen. No worries though cause she is not tall enough to escape from it. Being the good big brother that he is he offered to go in and talk to her until I was finished. I agreed and not even a minute later I could hear the two of them screaming. I shut off the water and I as I was wrapping myself in a towel I could hear my son yelling "HELP ME HELP ME!" I envisioned the baby having him in a death grip or choke hold. Yes she is that mean. The room is just steps across the hall. I quickly pushed open the door to find my son straddled on the side of the play pen. He had brought in one of his ride on toys to use as a step stool. He has not quite learned yet that things on wheels are not really the best thing for that. It must have moved and he lost his footing. Poor little guy landed right on his man parts. I hope he does not have permanent damage or trauma.