The Unsleepable

Oh I've missed seeing this bittersweet hour of the day...or more along the lines of morning. Insomnia can be held responsible for this...or maybe that I took a 3 1/2 hr nap due to the fact I was falling asleep during Aubrey's reading lesson. I'm growing a bit bored of staring at the ceiling. There's only so many things you can imagine taking shape within the bumpiness that looms above...the bumpiness that is so entirely chastised and loathed on HGTV. For no one in their right mind ever purchases a house with "cottage cheese" ceilings. Heaven forbid. Your guest might think you were poor or something....or even worse...have no style in taste whatsoever. So...we bought a house with bumpies. And, like every other house I have ever lived in, it felt exactly like home since I have actually never lived in a house without a bumpy ceiling. I seriously think my children will be no worse for the wear due to being forced to live with a mountainous texture above their heads. In fact...if we were to buy a house without the miniature white grand canyon like setting taking place on the roof over my head I might just go texture it on there to feel at home...and perturb the rest of the world...or at least those that exist on HGTV. And then I'd call them and tell them to come film my house cause I actually PUT the stuff up there when it didn't exist before my occupation of it. But seeing as how I haven't watched HGTV...or any TV for that matter....in months due to the cable being turned off I wouldn't know what's in style right now as far as housing style and trends go. Other than the fact that white, poppy textured, bumpy ceilings are not.



Anyway....tired of staring at the bumps and creating bump images, rather than cloud images, in the glitter that somehow made its way into that same white texture when they applied it. So, here I sit....with a beer craving no less. Out of all of the freakin pregnancy cravings I have ever had I can safely say never in my life have I once entertained a beer craving....until about 3 days ago. And it's stuck in the head and refuses to go away. Something in beer must be healthy because my inner self is desperately craving whatever miracle potion it possesses. So here I sit at 2:15 in the morning with an alcohol and olive oil and rosemary Triscuit craving. Not exactly sure how that one came about but I can assure you that it is quite real. If we didn't live out in ten buck two and if it wasn't at some forbidden hour of the night and if I didn't have a ton of sleeping kids and if every store around here didn't close when all of the geriatrics go to bed at 7pm I'd just load everybody up and go deal with the Triscuit craving. As for the beer....that'll have to wait awhile. But be forewarned that the night I give birth I plan on having at least 2 beers immediately following baby's arrival. I find it odd that I even want the stuff since I don't even entirely like it or enjoy it. It's ok but nothing worth craving. Why it seems to fill a void now...who knows. But, for now, I'll go eat olive oil and rosemary Triscuits dipped in fat free cream cheese. Or just eat them plain....cause they're just that good. If I had a way to get them.



On to more exciting life happenings. I've had a few "love them anyway" moments with the children lately. The ones that come when you probably wouldn't love them anyway except that they're your children so you're just a little obligated to do so despite any and all embarrassment they bring you. Yep...those kind. It began a few days ago with lovely little 7 year old girl approaching me saying, "Mom, your butt is getting really big.....but not really...... I'm just teasing....a little bit. But kinda not....cause it really is." Oh dear blunt and honest one, will you ever learn any measure of diplomacy and the fine art of not exactly stating the obvious or letting every thought that crosses your mind come rolling out???



So we make our way into Sam's. Visiting Mother was with us and studious husband carried on locked away studying in the attic at home. As we rounded the bakery section to gather supplies for Garrett's birthday party 5 year old red head stood mesmerized by the gigantic, collect-them-all-in-one-purchase Transformer toy package. Just as supersized stores have everything available for purchase in bulk...so do they have every toy available in bulk. If you ever wanted one Hot Wheels you can buy 90 of them at Sam's. If you ever longed for a little stuffed animal you can buy one twice the size of your children at Sam's. If you ever wanted a wooden swingset you can buy one on steroids at Sam's. And if you ever wanted a baby doll you can buy one with everything she needs for life from diapers to a college degree all in one box.....at Sam's. So, busy employee finally gave red head his attention due to the fact red could not be ignored at this point. And employee man was driving the cart that included the object of red's desire.

Employee: "You like Transformers?"

Grant: "Yes sir!!! I LIKE transformers."

Employee: "yep..those are some pretty cool guys in there."

Grant: a bunch of stuff I had no clue about and then, "That one's Megatron and he turns into a car and that one's Bumblebee and we have that car. It's yellow and black. I want that when I grow up." It's always so nice hearing your children's role models be voiced in front of store employees, or anybody else for that matter. Role models such as nasty, horrific looking Transformers when we work so hard at purchasing David and Goliath, Jonah, Moses and Bibleman action figures. Yes....the pinnacle of success has been reached. Buy them stuff from the Christian bookstore and they take up with Transformers. Maybe if we buy Transformers they'll actually dream of David and Goliath, being puked out of a whale, gazing upon a burning bush and having your hair cut off. Although I am actually quite fine with a lack of hair cutting dreams. Samson can keep on being Samson in the Bible with his chopped off hair as my children refrain from any and all scissor endeavors.


Employee in response to Grant: "Oh yeah? We'll I like him cause he looks pretty cool. Do you watch Transformers and have that movie?"

Grant: "Not anymore. My dad said we couldn't watch it anymore and he scratched it up and broke the cd."

Employee: "Oh really??? Hmmm. That's not good"

So I step in. " Yes, but Grant tell him why Daddy did that and why y'all are not allowed to watch it anymore." In all of my ignorance I just naively assumed he'd say that it has bad language or cuss words in it and other bad stuff. All things we've explained before to them.


Instead he blurts out confidently and clearly enough for all in the near vicinity to hear, "Cause they say shit in it and Mom and Daddy said I can't say that anymore."

Well. Hmmm. Alright.....now that we've laid that completely on the table for all of Sam's to hear let's move on, honey....shall we?




Tonight I ran bath water for the two little ones. Instead I went back in to check on water height and found 4 little boys already within. Way more than I bargained for or had the desire to bathe but, it was what it was and I might as well just bathe them all. Evye could bathe Ivye after she and Aubrey emerged from their shower.



As I walked into the bathroom to bathe them all my socked feet were quickly underwater. Lovely. As this happens to be a common problem with lots of little boys in a tub I quickly set out to right the wrong..."Who did this??? Who poured the water out all over the floor? Y'all know better than this. And somebody's butt's not going to be very happy tonight." Four little high pitched voices..."Poppy did it!!!"

Me: "I've got news, boys. Poppy did not do this. Cats do not like water so that tactic's not gonna cut it."

4 little laughing boys: "I know!!! Kitty cats DON'T like water!! He made a mess!"

Me, sternly: "Quit blaming Poppy. He didn't make this mess. Cats don't get in the water. Who dumped the cup of water out???"

Garrett: "But Poppy DID get in the water. He was so stinky and needed to take a bath with us. His breath is nasty!"

Garrison: "Yeah!! Grant was washing him off and brushing his teeth. He didn't like it very much."

Grant: " Yeah!!! He scratched me all up!!! On my leg and on my arm and on my face. See?? (bleeding scratches on legs and arms and cheek) He wanted out really bad but I didn't let him. He stinks."

Me: "Well then how'd he get out???"

All boys: "After he went under water to wash off he came up and jumped out and ran away. He sounded soooo funny!!!"....laughing hysterically and mimicking horrific cat meows.

Staring in disbelief: "Y'all seriously put Poppy in the bathtub??!!!"

Little boys were too overcome with laughter to respond. Except for 2 year old Gavin managing between raucous laughter: "Yes ma'am, mom!!! Poppy ran 'way...so fast!" sending everyone into fits of more laughter.



So comforting to know that our animals are so socially well rounded and adaptable...and that they smell good. Instructions were given to go look for the half drowned cat. He was found looking more like a drowned stinky rat under the coffee table....and sounding more like a sick duck instead of the cat that he is. Older kids fussed over him and attempted to blow dry him with a hair dryer which only furthered his traumatized self. Tortured cat took off into the night only to return half an hour later to finish fluffing out on the bed.



This same said cat is the one that proudly trotted into the house the other day with a live bird in his mouth. Carried it under the bed and promptly let go of it and set it free within the walls of our home. I freaked as bird went flying, cat went chasing and leaping and children went screaming and laughing. So I screamed with them...though their's was derived much more from the fun loving, this-is-a-great-life nature while mine was a little more out of the "crap...now what??!!!" nature. Cat caught bird and drug him back under bed. Kids caught cat, drug him out, desposited him outside. Before we could slam the door on him cat turns and, in bullet like fashion, missiles himself back under bed...bird flapping. More screaming. Cat is drug back out and this time while in route to door can no longer keep teethy vice grip on bird and opens mouth. Bird flies again. Back to window...cat in hot pursuit. Cat leaps for bird and catches once more, hauls butt under bed. More cat dragging..more dumping outside the door. Door slams. 3 minutes pass. Inevitably some little boy wants to go outside and play and opens door. Cat and bird again take up residence under bed. Bird still flapping. Catch cat...dump cat/bird duo back outside and slam door. Chain lock the back door. Children gravitate to front door. Cat/bird dart back within this time from front door under bed. By this time I'm so screamed out and so desensitized to the state of the bird and the fact we have a flying mammal in our home I calmly tell children...."Go get the cat and dump his butt back outside. Make sure you get the bird....and pick up the feathers. He might have lice." So we do this twice more. Then call everyone in and chain lock every outgoing door we have. Finally an hour later when the coast was thought to be clear, Grayson is given the permission to step outside and survey the lay of the land and if it harbors any bird loving, house loving cats. And there on our doorstep lay the once very alive, very flapping bird now shredded into tiny pieces as a love and endearment gift from our cat. Little boys loved the blood and guts of it all and little girls no longer even cry over the loss of animal life. Instead they stand by the side and do girly little things like..."Ewwww. That is so nasty!!!"...yet keep staring and drawing closer. Then kick it over with the toe of their boot to see the damage done to the other side. Oh so sweet, feminine girls of mine. Little boys race with excitement to get a plastic sack and Mr responsible goes for a paper towel with which to pick it up. Everyone stands around grossed out and quite taken with the sight. "Mom!! Come 'ere. You gotta see this!!! It is sooooo nasty!! I can see the worms in its stomach!! Ohhh...that's so gross! Come quick!!! You've just gotta look at this!!! Ewww!! May I touch it???? Come 'ere!!" Ummm....no thank you. You just go right on ahead and get your science lesson done for the day and then clean it up when you're done. Let me know when it's off the porch.



So is it even normal to be up and famished at 3am in the morning, scrounging around in the kitchen for anything and everything to eat, lamenting the fact there are no rosemary olive oil Triscuits??? I'm thinking not. For the first time in life I think I can actually understand why husbands get sent to the store at all hours of the night for pickles and ice cream. Though I wouldn't do that to hard working, hard sleeping husband. I'd just drive my own butt there....if he was home and if there was anywhere to actually go. How is it possible to be so hungry that your stomach actually burns in the middle of the night??? This is crazy crap.



Children will arise in only 3 1/2 short hours. I will go try once more to sleep. Though I've been quite productive during my early morning hours I'm beginning to doubt my level of productivity tomorrow. Stomach has been somewhat quieted by this past Sunday's leftover roast beef, carrots and potatoes. It wasn't olive oil and rosemary Triscuits but it was enough to quiet the lion worthy roars. Maybe had I actually drunk a beer I would've been asleep hours ago. Maybe my body knew it was insomniatic and it knew beer would cure the problem. I'm telling you...you're body's a lot smarter than what you ever give it credit for. There's a rhyme and a reason to most everything it does. So...come 29 weeks from now I plan on drinking one or two or however many beers and curing whatever hidden deficiency resides in my current diet.

On to bed....or at least to try.