Flaunt It Friday: Dreams, lies and super improved parenting - Now, with MORE scotch tape!
Nearly Wordless Wednesday: A tribute to Major Olmsted.

In which I remember 2007, sort of.

Thing One woke up with a wicked nose bleed.


Wicked, meaning profuse and uncontrollable bleeding from BOTH nostrils (you're welcome) and I mean, it would NOT stop.  So, I had to rush her to the doctor...AGAIN!


But, this time, Garth (not his real name) tagged along and we were BOTH relieved to learn that the medication seems to be working and it was just another result, in a series of pain-in-the-rump complications, of what we've come to call, "The bacterial infection that will not DIE."

Everything else is, you know, okay.

[knocking on wood until knuckles bleed]

Thankfully, Work At Home Mom To Five tagged me (dammit) and wants to pick my brain about 2007 - yes, she is very, very brave - and I'm more than happy to oblige in playing along with her meme.  ANYTHING, that'll take my mind off of all the...[gulp]...did I mention I'm not very good with, you know, cleaning up bloody messes?


Of course, I mean if the killer dust bunnies haven't gotten to it...first!

So, here it goes; in order:

Working from home has been an enjoyable (albeit, crazy busy) experience that has helped my family, tremendously - enabling me to focus more on the children and help keep my husband's head above water - and my traveling to Disney and Chicago, twice (thank you, BlogHer and Family.com) has Garth (not his real name) believing that, YES...perhaps, he should become a mommyblogger...sort of.  I have been an Imperfect Parent for the last 2 (or, is it 3?) years, started my review blog, proud to be a mom who's learned to speak up and welcome Green Mom Finds to the insanity.  BOOYAH and pass the broccoli; it's really been a good year, after all!

My Oldest Daughter and I survived her first year as a teenager, and celebrated her 14th birthday, with great hopes for her future.  She is a very talented artist and writer (no, really) and has applied to one of the high-tech schools in our county (they accept only 80 new freshman, each year) and is scheduled to take the exam for the Communications High School later this month.  I am so proud of her -- whether she makes it in, or not -- and honored that she's even mine, let alone, allow me to follow in her footsteps.  Seriously, we wear the same size and the kid has some wickedly gorgeous shoes.

My Middle Girl graduated 5th grade, started middle school and joined just about every gosh-darned club they've got.  SHEESH.  Honestly, the girl is active.  She hasn't signed up for any sports, this year -- thank you, Jesus -- but, her mind is always working and full of really great ideas.  Lord love a duck, I'm raising a liberal-thinker.  Which is a good thing, because, it keeps her father on his toes (conservatively, speaking) and she never really did require a lot sleep (stupid colic!) it's hard to believe that she's turning 13, this year.  Wait.  That means Garth (not his real name) and I will have not one, but TWO teenagers living in the house...let us pray.

The Boy is turning 9, this month and growing (and eating) so much, he's about a head taller than most of the kids in his 3rd grade class, this year.  He's made a lot of new friends, through soccer and baseball, for the first time, and looking forward to signing up for Little League, in the spring.  I'll be rooting for him.  Again.  On the cold, hard bleachers.  OUCH!  But, he's worth it.  It's sort of fun, too.  To watch.  Especially, when my little man spit and grabs his crotch.  Yes, boys ARE different.  He's graduating from the elementary school and moving into the school that houses all of our 4th and 5th graders in the district.  Long story.  So, stupid.  Which means, I will have 4 kids, in 4 different schools, next year...send chocolate!

Mini-me is an enigma.  One day, she's a happy little 6-year-old in love with the boy, who shall NOT be named -- but, happens to be sitting in the desk next to her -- and...BAM...I'm checking for pods in our crawl space, the next.  I guess, that's what I get for giving birth to a Gemini.  Not to mention, being one.  And a twin.  Myself.  She is, however, a picture-perfect version of my younger self -- seriously, it's scary -- and my parents delight in the fact that Mini-me is so, you know, like me.  Except, I was NEVER a girl scout.  Or, as funny.  Dang, the girl makes me snort Coke through my nose.  Wait.  Not that I do drugs.  Or, anything.  Um.  Did I mention that she's got a really good sense of humor.  And she hates that I call her Mini-me.  So, hence forth, I'm changing her blog name and my youngest will be now known as, "My Little Brownie."  Formerly known as, Mini-me.

Garth (not his real name) has had a tough year at work (stupid bank) and comes home to find, well, he DOES live here, you know?  Still.  I try to field a lot of the curve balls that life seems to be throwing us, lately.  The kids and me, I mean.  But, it's hard.  I mean, they ARE really, really hard.  And it doesn't stop.  Ever.  Especially, once they're in kindergarten.  I mean, your kids STILL need you.  You know.  More than ever, I think.  And it never ceases to amaze me.  How Garth (not his real name) steps up to the plate.  Whenever I need him.  Which is a lot, more.  Lately.  That's okay, though.  What, with my parents ill and his father's surgery, this month -- scheduled on The Boy's birthday, actually -- I'm hoping that the coming year is MUCH better.  Than it started off, anyway.  Either way.  It'll be fine.  He can be my wingman, anytime!

There you go, Laura - it was the best of times, it was the worst of times and it was exactly what Charles Dickens would have probably envisioned, while snorting Coke through his nose - thank you for asking!

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