It's really interesting to just sit and listen to your kids as they go about their business. My 6yo has a knack for mis-speaking, in a way that's pretty hilarious. For instance, not 5 minutes ago, he shouted excitedly, "Look! I came out of my butthole!" Now, what he actually meant, was that he came out of his bunny hole that he had made with my Boppy pillow and a blanket.

I may have mentioned that two days ago, DH and I both had the stomach flu. Since the kids still needed food and stuff, we called in backup, the inlaws. One of the things they brought with them was a 2 Liter of Diet Rite. Imagine our reaction when Ryan wanted to know if he could drink his diarrhea at the couch. I know, I know. It's almost too much. He actually said this twice.

Recently my 7 and 6yo's developed an interest in the original Creepshow movie. Their favorite was the one about "I want my cake!" I know there's some strong language, but I also know my kids know better than to use it. It was lost on me what my 3yo was absorbing until I heard him, in frustration, call one of his toys a "bitch". He didn't just use the word, he used it correctly. He spat it out with such hatred and vehemence, I had a hard time keeping a straight face.

So, there you have it, my dirty little secret. My kids live in a butthole, drink diarrhea, and have bitchy toys. I hope we aren't spoiling them.

What is it about throw up in particular, that makes it difficult not to join the fun? Seriously, out of every type of bodily fluid produced, it stands alone in it's ability to cause a chain reaction. I will freely admit, right here and now, that I am a hurl wuss. I once got my MIL out of bed, in the middle of the night, because my daughter had blown chunks in her crib. No lie. Possibly, you may have surmised that I had a sick child today. The 3 year old. This is a difficult age for a stomach bug, because the child knows they need to throw up somewhere other than where they happen to be at that moment, but panics, and forgets where. So, in an effort to jog their memory, they run. Ugh. See, the older kids can usually make it to the bathroom, and the younger kids are immobile, so thay can't spread the love. The other thing that may happen at this age, which is equally awful, is that the child may be afraid of what is happening. This also causes the "fight or flight" instinct to kick in. "Oh my gosh, something is coming out of my mouth at high velocity! Scary! RUN!" *sigh*

It's really been a trying day. I have cleaned the carpet in three spots, cleaned the couch, the ottoman, and several loads of towels and shirts, all the while, struggling not to contribute to the problem. If my mom lived closer, she would have gotten one of those "I really neeeeeeeed you to come over todayyyy, I can't doooo thiiiiiisss" calls. Now that this is the third kid to get sick, I know what comes next. I don't know if it's worse that he's not potty trained yet, or a blessing.

Tune in next time.

Yep, 'tis the season. For the pinched faces, the shoving, the elbows, the people willing to drive over you to get your parking spot, which is at best a half mile away. Add to that the fact that the windchill has a negative sign in front of it, and the snow squeaks like styrofoam, and you've got the makings of a joyful season. Or, if nothing else, at least it's predictable.

On the other hand, I got to get out of the house today. For the first time in two weeks. You read that right. Due to a flat tire on the only car we have that will fit me and all the kids, I have been severely home bound. Pinched faces and thrown elbows notwithstanding, it was very nice to actually see OTHER PEOPLE. People who's orifices are not mine to maintain. You know what? Just forget I said that, it is a rather unpleasant mental image.

So, for the last two weeks, the highlights include, but are not limited to:

1. Getting my new vacuum cleaner belt. The carpet was looking somewhat...disturbing.
2. Having the stomach flu hit only 2 of us. Try having seven people under one roof get the flu, and you'll see what I mean.
3. Getting the tire fixed. Merry Christmas to me.
4. Getting a new tub of nutella. Have you tried this stuff? You really can't go wrong with something that lists sugar as it's first ingredient but can still claim the nutritional bonus of "50 hazelnuts per jar!" Put it on whole grain bread, and you have a breakfast of champions.
5. Getting most of my Christmas shopping done online. See above regarding so called "Holiday Cheer" and the mobility of our van.
6. Finding my favorite Christmas music CD. This almost makes up for the fact that I can't talk my family into a fake tree. I know, I know. As a teen we had to go get the tree the day after Thanksgiving, due to my irrepressible excitement. No more. I have become grinchy enough to rival Scrooge. I'd be happy to get the tree Christmas eve, and drag that sucker to the curb after Christmas dinner. Now that I have to run the vacuum over the sappy needles, keep the baby from drinking the water, the toddler from breaking the ornaments, and the older ones from knocking the whole damn thing over, it's somehow lost it's appeal. Yes, it smells good. So what? Lots of things smell good, that are a lot less of a pain in the ass.

So there you have it. My Grinchy-grinch take on trees. Wait 'til I go off on something that really ruffles my feathers.

My 3yo son is a potty mouth. Literally. He sprinkles every sentence with words like "poopy", "buttcrack", and my personal favorite, "penis eater". I really do not know where it comes from. At least if it were cuss words, I'd have some assurance that he listens to me. Not that I'm a rabid cusser or anything, but a few slip out every now and again.

Furthermore, even if I cussed like a sailor, I truly believe that I've earned it. Like this morning. I went upstairs, and as I went by the kids' bathroom, I stuck my head in there because they tend to not flush. Why they can remember the promise of an ice cream cone three years ago, but not to flush the toilet, is beyond me. Imagine my surprise when upon peering in there, I saw that someone had thrown up in there. A lot. In fact, I'd wager none of it got in the toilet, blocked as it was by the lid and all. See, now right there, I've earned a few expletives. And not the grade school kind, either. Nope. I've earned carte blanche use of The Big Guns. You know which ones I mean.

Or like right now. Everything I just wrote got munched. So I've had to type all of this twice. NOT HAPPY. I was far too cool in high school to take typing, so, for clarification, I've had to hunt and peck all of this twice. Yep, lookin' cool now.