How Charming...

Flashback to 2006......

Me: I really want to buy this house Justin. Its so big - it has 6 bedrooms! Think of all the kids we could fill it with! 

Justin: I don't know...it doesn't have a garage...

Me: Oh who cares about that! Its an old house - its so charming. I want it!!!!

Oh I got it all right. What I got was a mini-van at 7:40am with frozen sliding doors and kids who were going to be late to school. How charming.


What in the hell was I supposed to do?


This was the exclamation point on our morning which included oversleeping, running out of Lucky Charms, and a feather extension getting yanked out by my frantic hair brushing.

Well, cursing and tugging on the doors (all while holding my 30lb toddler man-child) didn't work. 


I put down the man-child and pulled on the front passenger door with all of my Jillian Michael's built strength! Success! 


The girls climbed over the seat and I climbed over with Jack under my arm and got him buckled in his seat. 


After I started the car, it starting beeping like a tractor trailer. Apparently when I had tugged on the sliding doors, I had tugged just enough to unleash them but not enough to open them. The beeping was louder than my kids.


I couldn't push the doors fully open or get them closed - so beep beep beep went the min-van all through the town. AND as an added bonus, because the doors weren't fully closed, the interior lights faded in and out. I felt like I was driving my own personal parade float. The beeping, the lights....I'm quite sure I was on the verge of an epileptic seizure.


We got to school, and yet the doors still wouldn't open so the kids piled out the front door.


As we went beep beep beep all the way home, one door suddenly slid open as I was doing 60 down the highway. Cameron screamed, I screamed, the baby screamed....


We finally got home and I called Justin to tell him about the morning. I really needed some comforting and encouragement.

I got this:

JUSTIN: And THIS is where having that garage would come in handy....Too bad we can't park the car in one of those bedrooms....We're sure as hell not going to fill them with more children...


ME: Well....Well..... Beep-You!

My Big Fat Armenian Family

I'm uncertain as to whether the people of Armenia celebrate Thanksgiving. However, my big fat Armenian family threw down quite a Thanksgiving celebration this past weekend in a pole barn in the backwoods of Southern Indiana. 


We celebrate not by roasting a Turkey, but by eating an Armenian dish called Klayhma, which is raw beef mixed with cracked wheat. We also celebrate with a lot of liquor.


Grandmother, although 86 years old, was no exception. She too enjoyed her liquor. At one point in the afternoon, she sat outside and loudly sang old gospel songs stopping intermittently to tell anyone who passed by that the "drunks could all sit right here." God, I love her. 

Our Armenian Thanksgiving wasn't limited to family - we'll take anybody. My Uncle Harry, who hosted the event, invited several of his buddies (I lovingly refer to them as strays). We were happy to have them, and by mid-afternoon the pole barn was rocking with Prince and the camoflauge-clad strays were dancing under a black light. 


Speaking of the black-light, it managed to humilate my husband.....


JUSTIN: Abbie, you know those UV lights that they use to show all the nasty stuff in hotel rooms?


ME: Yeah - so?


JUSTIN: Follow me.


Justin proceeds to walk into the barn and takes a seat on the coach.

JUSTIN: Do you even wash my clothes?!?!?!?!?


ME: I'd say the more important question is what the hell do you do in your clothes??


When the day came to an end, I had consumed at least a pound of cream cheese (Thanks Aunt Lucinda!) and two bottles of wine. I was thankful. My cup and the fat over my pants truely runneth over.


And!!! Cameron learned a new song:

Welcome to the Doll House

I was picking up the girl's doll house this morning when something caught my eye.


The mother of the pretty plastic brood comes with a bath robe. No other family members come with any clothes. Hell, the babies didn't even come with diapers. However, Fisher Price obviously believed that it was necessary to include a bath robe for mom.  Clearly if this mother is caring for twins, a dog and a 3 story home she isn't going to have time to dress herself. A bathrobe is essential.


They also included in a carryout pizza - I guess mom isn't cooking much either. 


Way to go Fisher Price, you throw in a bottle of wine, and I'd say you nailed it.

The String Cheese Incident

Yesterday Hadley came home and requested string-cheese for a snack. Being a good servant -  oh I mean mother - I fetched her one, opened it, and handed it to her - an absolute fit ensued.


Why??? Why would she throw a fit after I had given her what she had asked for? Because, dear readers, I had dared to open the package.


She refused to eat it and wanted another one. Wasn't happening. 


She threw a tantrum, and I threw her in her room.


About ten minutes later this note was thrown down the stairwell:

Nice. I'm getting hate mail from my 6 year old.

For Real?

If I was arrested for everything I forgot while pregnant, I'd be in a federal prison....

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