Thursday, December 27, 2007

Season's Greetings

It is a Tradition in our family to have Dad read "The Night Before Christmas" and Luke 2 (while the kids dress up act out the Christmas story, ) on Christmas Eve. Even though he was out at work this year we didn't let that stop us. He just did it over the speaker phone. It was great. And for your enjoyment (and my own) I have created my own version of this story.

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, ALL the creatures were stirring, even the mouse(OK he's a hamster but you get the point)
The fever was running, the baby awoke(not just that one,^ the other one too )I was thinking to myself "this must be a joke."
"Santa's supposed to be here at a quarter past 12.
He may have to cancel and just send an elf."
Then what to my wondering eyes should appear, but the head of an eight year-old caught like a deer(in the headlights)
She was trying to see if Santa had come.
Thank goodness he hadn't, his work wasn't done.

"I'm trying to get Joey back into bed,
he's sick
and he's got a fe-ver in his head.
Santa will be here, he's got a plan.
Now get back to sleep as fast as you can."
She ran away quickly, just like a good girl,
In hopes that dear Santa's plan, would not unfurl.
As for me, I sat rocking that boy like I should,
I felt so darn bad that he didn't feel good.
In spite of the fact that the craziness lasted,

Until I was certain that Santa had passed us,
I made it to bed at half past two,

And kept thinking to myself, that 6:am will not do.
I sure hoped those kids would keep on sleeping,
at least long enough so I didn't start weeping.

It turned out alright, they all slept through the night,
and we all awoke to a beautiful sight.
Santa had made it and brought all our gifts!

It was so much fun even though dad was missed.
The Durrant family has been blessed with lots of great cheer And we're wishing you all a HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Sunday, December 23, 2007

The best kind of sticky


MY MOMMY IS FUNNY. So is this flashing thing
So today is Sunday, that would make yesterday Saturday. Which is a special day... it's the day we get ready for Sunday...need I go on? We cleaned the house...and that's about it. I also had to figure out a way to get some of us to church, while someone stayed home with Joey, who was too sick to go. I had to sing and direct the choir, otherwise we all would have just stayed home. So Spencer graciously stayed with him and Jacob.
Back to yesterday which was Saturday a special day it's the...sorry. It happens all the time. Primary songs pop out of my head at random. Anyway, we were cleaning. The kids had their various rooms to take care of. I was overseeing their progress and cleaning the front room. I moved the couches, (which admittedly hasn't been done in a few months, being pregnant and c-section recovery, blah blah. I know excuses, excuses) and I found where the Clothes Monster has been hiding more dang socks. It really wasn't that bad. I vacuumed(such a funny word)which is an accomplishment because after almost four years of heavy duty use, the vacuum has started smoking. I don't know if it's the stress of the job, maybe it was peer pressure, but it smells terrible. I feel bad, but I just kept pushing it, I was sort of waiting for flames. While I was testing the fireproof limit if the vacuum, Sariah was cleaning the kitchen. She put some bread in the hall pantry, which halfway serves as a coat/storage closet and its doorknob is holding a bag of 'To Donate' clothes. (What a great closet), I heard her have a little scuffle with Jacob. Something about "get out of there." It ended fairly peacefully. I kept cleaning. Then Gabe needed help with loading the dishwasher, so I went and did that. And then Spencer needed help with 'Pine needle Duty' so I and went and helped there. Then I went back to my job in the front room. At this point I have decided that the vacuum needs hypnosis therapy. While I tried to coerce the vacuum to "just finish this dang room" I heard Jacob having a grumpy fit up on the stairs. He had had a Christmas sucker and I figured he was mad that it was gone, or that he was angry with Caleb or whatever, so I ignored it. These tiffs usually play out on their own and need no intervention. This one, however, didn't. It just kept on going. I decided to see what the matter was. I turned off the @##^%& vacuum and went up the stairs to find him. Yeah, he wasn't there. I then followed the cries back downstairs to find him, yup, in the pantry. He apparently shut himself in when Sariah had told him to get out. He was fine until he had finished the sucker and realized he couldn't open the door because of the very large bag of clothes on the doorknob, that's when he panicked. He was fine overall. He was sticky, so was the doorknob and the bag of clothes. I got him out and hugged him tight, then I was sticky, but that's OK it was the 'Mommy to the rescue' kind of sticky, and that's the best kind of sticky.
Good day to ya!
Oh and in case I don't see ya, MERRY CHRISTMAS !!!

Friday, December 21, 2007

Clean-up in isle Three


New Pokemon spotted at Durrant house in Texas. It doesn't have a name yet, but its powers are:High Velocity Gas which takes 80 points away from an enemy, and Constant Noise Making that befuddles its enemies so much so that they get lost, that is worth 90 points. Its Health Points are 180, weakness is House Cleaning.

But seriously, who needs toys when you have bananas and plastic bags.

I know, I've read the warning labels, plastic bags are not toys.
And to be honest I asked the 4year-old to run and get the phone yesterday, while I was feeding the baby, and he had scissors. I guess my friend was right...There goes my 'Mother of the Year' award.

I had to run errands today. Including going to the post office, and grocery shopping. I might be brave enough to tackle grocery shopping with some little people, but not the post office. So the Pokemon babysat. I made it to the post office with ease then to Wal-Mart. I hate Wal-mart. By the time I ran my debit card at the checkout I wanted to puke. I tend to have adverse physical reactions to spending large amounts of money. Especially if it will all be eaten within a week. The one thing I cannot stand is when cows and chickens go on strike. I don't have the heart to pay $3.69 for a gallon of milk. So I don't buy milk at Wal-Mart. I left that place and proceeded Randalls(Safeway for you Westerners) in my post grocery bill shock, thinking all the while "Man there's a lot of traffic." There are days when there's not so much, today was not one of them.(There was no point to that comment, it's just what I was thinking) I got to Randalls, looked at a sale sign on the building and realized that the meanings of words change after you have had children. 'SEAFOOD BLOWOUT' does not mean the same thing to me as it does to the person who hung that sign. People looked at me strangely as I laughed all the way through the store.
Good day to ya!

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Tourist Season?

I have sorted and folded 44 pairs of socks today. The sad thing about it is that I'm not finished yet. There is still a load of whites in the dryer. That's 88 individual socks so far not counting the few that don't have their partners(dang clothes monster). All white. Well that's not true. Two pair were Spiderman socks, and glory be I found all four individuals. Gabe(the 6 year-old) has actually gone to school wearing one sock from each Spiderman pair, no they don't match, and it wasn't even 'Crazy Sock' day. Sometimes I swear everyday is 'Crazy Sock' day in our house. I guess it doesn't matter as much that your socks don't match if you live someplace cold, where you wear pants that cover your socks so no one knows. And, frankly, when you grow up wearing bread sacks over your 3 pairs of socks inside your "moon boots" (because your feet will get wet, freeze and fall off if you don't,) matching socks isn't such a big deal. But in Texas it's different because we wear shorts. Even now in December. No big thing except Gabe doesn't wear just any shorts. He is very particular about his shorts. Not jean shorts. Rarely khaki's. For Gabe it's the athletic silky shorts all the way. Again, not a big deal, if worn with an athletic T-shirt or something similar, but Gabe's favorite shirts are Hawaiian shirts, cotton or silky mesh, doesn't matter. So if he could he would wear a Hawaiian shirt with a pair or silky athletic shorts and a Spiderman sock or two, everyday. It seems I have a 6 year-old that is really a 60 year-old tourist at heart. I give him credit for Sunday. He wears his gray suit with his shiny penny loafers every Sunday. Occasionally, when he can find them, he'll wear his black socks too. Two Sundays ago at church I looked at his ankles. One black one bare, bless his heart. I made him take the black one off. At least there wasn't a Spiderman sock involved.
Good day to ya.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Cookie shampoo and Toast

What are the 'child labor' laws?
I found these three dishwasher's/juice makers/chefs. They speak English (mostly) and they work for cookies. That 4 year-old makes a mean piece of toast. He should by now, he's been making toast since he was 2.

I was pregnant(surprise I'm always pregnant) with Joey(the shortest one) and we were all resting in the family room. I heard Caleb playing around in the kitchen. I thought nothing of it until I heard the toaster pop. I sat bolt upright and looked in the kitchen and there was this 2 1/2 year-old getting toast out of the toaster using pot holders. I asked him what he was doing and he said "It's hot and I'm hungry."
'Smart monkey,' I thought.
I knew then that he was different. He seems to be more mechanically inclined than most of the other children. Around this same time he figured out how to unlock our interior doors. They have a little hole in the door knob that you can push a little strait metal key into, to unlock it. We kept the key on the top of our master bedroom door jam.
I was in the bathroom with the door locked (I needed thirty seconds to pee in private) when I heard Caleb fidgeting with the door knob. I knew, from the day before he had already figured out that if you stuck something small enough in that little hole and turned the knob, the door would open. A small stick was his first key. Sitting in the bathroom, I told him that I would be out in a second and that he didn't need to unlock the door. And then (as he continued to fiddle) I desperately tried to think of what he could be using to try to open the door. All the little things had been picked up from his reach. As the door flew open, there stood little 2 1/2 year-old Caleb, with the actual brass key. I looked at him, with it clenched in his sticky little fist, in amazement. "How did you...???"And then I looked in my bedroom doorway and there lay the broom. He had gotten the broom out of the pantry and used it to sweep the key off the top of our door jam. I knew we were in trouble then.
He didn't start talking until he was 2, but the first thing he said to me was "Where's the 'mote(remote)?"
Caleb's current favorite saying is "My plan worked." I think he's been thinking that since before he was born.

So today has been fairly calm. For a snack I gave Jacob an Oreo(my favorite cookie). He walked off and I thought nothing of it until I went to feed the baby. She had been on the floor for some tummy time, I picked her up and sat with her in the recliner. I looked at her. There were these big, white flake looking things all over her hair. I had no idea what they were. So like a mother, I pulled one out and mushed it around in my fingers and smelled it. Yup, Oreo cookie cream. It brushed out easily. No harm done, and for the rest of the day baby Ellie's hair smelled like a cookie. They should make a shampoo. I want a percentage.

I had to throw in this sweet picture of baby Joey giving baby Ellie a kiss. It's too cute.
Good day to ya.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Poor Dogs and Silver Bells

WARNING: Christmas Candy Canes may bring blue tongued Reindeer to your house too.

But seriously...the dentist would be appalled.

So this morning was an interesting case of the 'hurry ups' because the baby turned two months today which also means, go to the doctor for a well baby appointment in which she won't be well when we leave because it's the Dr.'s office where all the germs live. Actually we brought the germs this time. I have decided that it is much easier to have one sick child at a time as opposed to three or more. I wasn't sure a few months ago which I preferred. This was because I was dealing with one sick child at a time. It happened to be the stomach flu. I was 8 1/2 months pregnant and my husband was at work. It started with the Joey, who was the baby then, and exactly 24 hours later the next one up would get it. You could really start to tell who played with which sibling the most by the puking order. It was tedious, the same cleaning and care day after day for 6 or more days. But there was a rhythm and a set expectation.
What we have now is a cold running through the 3 littlest boys. Runny noses, eyes, coughs, breathing treatments, and the repeated phrase "Don't touch the baby!!"ARRGGHH. I believe one at a time is better.
So baby Ellie is well... so far. she's 50% in height and weight and she's developing fine. Great news. And she only screamed for a minute during her vaccines. Her brothers on the other hand...
Picture this... It's just me taking all these kids to this appointment. That's a 4 1/2, 2 1/2, 1 1/2 and 2 month old. The oldest can walk and be fairly obedient, no problem. It's the other two. So I strap them in the new double stroller(my husband backed the suburban over the old one) and put the baby in the snugglie carrier. As I walk into the Dr. office waiting room, the other parents start counting. Then one mother, with 3 kids, says
"Wow four, what are their ages?" after I tell her I add "and there are three more in school." Hers and everybody else's ear's perk up. She then said " This must be a calm day the for you." and I thought 'that's just because they're contained'. But, I smiled and said that the older kids really do help.
So we got into the room to wait for our very nice doctor, and our not so nice nurse(we haven't had her before) said that we were a little late for the appointment so we may have to wait for the doctor a little. This was during the time when Jacob(2) had already gotten out of the stroller and was climbing on everything, reading all the letters he could find(he's scary smart), and playing in the trash. I was trying to re-diaper the baby who peed an ounce on the scale. The nurse was trying to convince Jacob that chairs were for bottoms not feet. I am more of a 'catch them if they fall' kind of person, as long as no one is screaming. But I let her try to tame the beast. Then Joey stood up in the stroller and Jacob started kicking the table. Caleb just sat in a chair coughing and snotting. The natives were getting restless. No one fell and the nurse ran away quickly. The Dr. came in almost as soon as the nurse left, did Ellie's exam, talked a bit. Then Nurse Chimney came in. We like Nurse Chimney, the only thing is that she smokes. Jason named her that after commenting that she smells... well like a chimney. She gave Ellie her shots...Other than the baby's scream, it was silent. The boys stared and you could see the thoughts on their faces "Holy Crap is she gonna do that to me?" When it was over it was back to normal. Everyone was contained in their appropriate places and we were out to the checkout desk. The boys each picked a sticker. Except Jacob who wanted a Spiderman sticker, not Superman. The kind woman at the desk went searching for one. Jacob got his Spiderman sticker.and then realized that he wanted Superman after all. We were out the door and the mother fit of all time ensued. I've seen some good ones but this rivaled the best. It involved the screaming range of some of the best soprano's and as he got hoarse in one spot the pitch would get higher and higher until I'm sure somewhere some poor dog was covering its ears. All I can say is thank goodness for large cars with car seats buckled way in the back, and Elvis singing Silver Bells on the radio...really, really loud.
Good day to ya.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Clothes Monster

WooHoo it's a little chilly in Texas. So this morning officially started with my 12 year old coming in to my room in a panic, "Mom it's 6:45 where's my jacket?" Many thoughts came to my brain all at once, things like 'I didn't wear it' and 'you should have left the house already, the bus will be hear in 2 minutes' and 'you only have one jacket, and you wore it all last week, what happened over the weekend that caused it to mysteriously disappear?' And there were more thoughts, but Spencer's panic over shadowed the thinking and I went into 'get the kid out the door, so I don't have to drive him to school' mode. I found a sweater in his drawer, a nice sweater mind you, and told him to put it on. As he is giving me a count down "Mom, it's 6:47! " and then he had the preteen age nerve to say "I can't wear that, it's not...'Me'" oh puke I thought, but needless to say, the mother look prevailed and I won. Sweater and all, the boy got off to school.
After having sent the 6 year-old back to bed at 6:20(he was up looking at Pokemon cards with his big brother, oh wait, is this maybe the cause of the 6:45 panic? hmmm suspicious) I thought I might be lucky enough to sleep for another 45 min. But that whole jacket thing and ya know... I did however get to nap a little between 6:50 and 7:10. That's when the 8 and 6 year old get up for school. Their bus leaves around 7:55. So I woke them up. There didn't seem to be any major wardrobe malfunctions until 7:45... and it was "Mom I can't find my jacket" from the 6 year-old.
I did, however, know where his green pullover from last year was. "There's a jacket upstairs hanging in your closet." As we waited for him to go get it, I looked at my daughter and said, "Little do they know I'm a clothes monster. I put on all of their clothes at night, including all of the missing socks and jackets, and then I walk around the house and hide them like the Easter Bunny hides the eggs. " She looked at me wide eyed. " You do?" ...I wanted to say no that's your daddy's job but instead I said, "No, honey, I don't." She looked relieved, then got the joke and chuckled a little. And we wonder why our kids are sarcastic. I would like that to be the only punch line for this blog, but like my life 'it ain't over yet'. Now I didn't think there would be any other issues around the jackets... and then I hear this whine "I don't like this one, I don't want to wear it" I don't remember what exactly happened next, all I know is that the two of them were out the door. The six year-old in his green jacket.
Finally, now I could relax and call my husband (who works nights offshore (I'll explain that later)) to vent and focus on the 4 kids still at home. Not two minutes later. The front door opens. "Phillip's mom said we missed the bus!" Ha ha mom jokes on you. And because it's chilly in Texas, I couldn't just throw all the other kids in the car as is. They all had to have JACKETS
Good day to ya.

Sunday, December 16, 2007


Have the words " Yogurt is not lotion" ever left your mouth. They did mine tonight as I chased Joey (the 19 month-old) trying to get the half eaten thing of yogurt out of his hands while he ran away in his 'little too big' pants that covered his feet in flipper fashion all the while smearing the yogurt across his face as if it really were lotion. So today was spent partially at church quietly yelling, glaring, chasing, counting 1,2,3,4,5,6 where did 7 go. The numbers aren't specifically assigned to any child in particular, I just know that if I don't get to seven someone is missing. Oh back to church glaring, chasing and breathing threatenings of "if you don't sit still I'm calling Santa when we get home, and there will be no presents for you" blah blah blah. Unfortunately that only works with the 4, 6, and 8 year old and only for 2 to 3 minutes. I wish the Santa line worked year round. But unfortunately...

I have decided to join the world of blog. Partly because as a mother of seven I need an out'of brain'let, and partly because I need typing practice. OK the last part is true but not the intention of the blog. My daily dealings with my children however often lead to laughs and sometimes tears and I think they are worth sharing, so this is a way for me to let what's in my brain out.
Good day to ya.