Ross is on his death bed.

It's aweful, he's so miserable right now, I know because I was on a similar death bed, although, his death bed has pillows and a blanket, mine was in the kitchen and my pillow was the hot stove as I stewed my fever over dinner, afterwords my warm blanket was the throws of the hot steam coming from the sink as I was doing dishes from dinner. BUT that's not all...poor Brynn got sick, too, and she was up all night, I was sick, couldn't breathe, couldn't swollow, and now I'm up feeding my poor sick miserable baby. Ross was in bed...he doesn't get out of bed once he's down. Last night to "make up" for the fact that I was so sick and miserable, he said "I hope you get used to the idea of sleeping tonight, I'm going to get up with Brynn so you can have a full night rest and she'll just have to get used to the idea of a bottle. I just laughed. What else was there to do? At least he got up early this morning after his full night rest and let me sleep in!

Back so soon....

"Because I'm the mommy, that's why." It no longer holds water. Kids are being born smarter now-a-days that they were even 10 years ago. I have 5 kids, my 11 year old wasn't sitting up until he was 7-8 months old. My 5th child was sitting up at 4 months old. They're getting brighter. That isn't to say my oldest isn't bright. On the contrary, he sucks in everything you say, records it in his database brain and holds it for future dates to use against you or in his favor. I can't even remember what I ate for dinner last night.

Of course, it is totally a "kid" thing. I remember my mom getting FAKE fingernails. That wasn't a very trendy thing to do when I was a kid, so I told everyone we met, strangers and friends, alike. Not cause I wanted her to look like a fake-fingernail-bearer, but because it was SO cool what they could do with fingernails back then! Well, I now know when she showed me the underside of her "real" fingernails that there was no secondary nail growing that she was just trying to shut me up. I couldn't prove it, because, after all, there was no secondary nail growing under that 2-inch thick fingernail. But I didn't defy my mother vocally about her fake fingernails any more. Now that I hit the magical age in finger-nail growth - where overnight my nails got stronger and longer, I have to find different ways of entertaining my children around guests so that they don't somehow "shock" the stranger by telling them what isn't already obvious, "My mom has a zit right next to her nose, and if you squeeze it from both sides, white stuff comes out." Was there such things as zits when I was 6?

It's only been...uh, over a month.

You would think that with all the time I have doing NOTHING that I would actually get to spend more time blogging...but no. Not too much. Hopefully more upcoming as Brynn becomes addicted to benedryl. Nap times should be more frequent.

Howie apologized to me the other day "Mom, I'm so very sorry, but I just had to use your catepillar killer." Naturally I have no idea what he is talking about other than the fact that he has either a) used something he wasn't supposed to use or b) broke something after using it that he wasn't supposed to use or c) playing pirates in his room. I quickly ruled out "c" and asked him "what happened?" As he continued to apologize it became evident to me, whatever my catepillar killer was, was in his hand behind his back. "Where is my catepillar killer now?" As he sheepishly uncovered his hand from behind him, he revealed a very muddy, gutty eyelash curler. The good news is, the catepillar is no longer eating up the grapevine.

I'm going to write a book.