Happy Halloween!

Every once in awhile the stars align and I am able to grab the camera without The Natives noticing and when I do.........I present for your viewing pleasure a Halloween Treat.




Please excuse Levi having a meltdown in the background.........

Excuse me. There's been a mistake. I ordered "order" and you gave me "chaos".

Halloween parties at school, last minute touches on costumes, The Natives are literally bouncing off the walls.



This morning as I got six of the seven Natives all into their costumes it was a flurry of chaos and bedlam. Each one wanted me to help them with their costume right now and at one point The SM asked me how in the world a few of them were going to use the bathroom through out the day.......I told him that was their problem. My job was to get them into their costumes and out the door. I'd done my part and more than my fair share. Seven kids.....seven costumes......I used to like Halloween.

All of The Natives (except for the baby) were finally all put together and off to school. I collapsed onto the couch ready to put up my feet and enjoy a cup of steaming hot cocoa when the doorbell rings.......it is my neighbor across the street. She'd passed my baby girl on the way to school. My baby girl who with big round eyes and a look of horror on her face told my neighbor she'd forgotten her homework at home........could I bring it?



I looked down. Me.....in my flannel jammies......hair flying this way and that......morning breath.........nothing new. I've graced the school halls looking thus. I ran around the house searching. Searching for my baby girls home work which I'd seen her working so hard on all week. Is it in her cubby where it should be? Nope. Is it in the kitchen on one of the counters? Nope. Is it up in her room? Heaven forbid if it is.......can't even get her door open to see. I enter her room finally only I can't see the carpet let alone her home work. I start to move piles of clothes, toys, garbage, unmentionables around looking for her homework. Under the bed......on dressers......on her bed.....between the bed and the wall.......in the toy box......under the toy box (which doesn't hold any toys by the way because they are all over the floor) and all I can think is, "If this girl would just learn to be orderly! Everything has its place! Why in the world can't she put things away!" I just want ORDER!!!!!



Guess I should have thought of that before I had so many punks. Speaking of punks....my oldest went as a punk cowboy..... how's that for an oxymoron?





I love duct tape. It's great for making pointy steel toed cowboy boots, sticking a big ol' belt buckle made out of cardboard and tinfoil to your belt.....sticking home work to my daughters forehead........

The parable of the orange vest.

Everyday when I go and pick up my oldest son from school I see a man out walking wearing one of these orange vests. The first time I saw him, there was a lot of road construction going on in the area and so I assumed he belonged to the road construction crew. After seeing this man out walking day after day it became very obvious that he was not a part of the construction crew but a man who loved to go on walks and has a momma who wants him to be safe. Wants those of us driving by to know that this man has some special needs and the rest of us need to be careful and on the look out for him.



This man also has a pair of these that he wears. His have yellow tinted lenses. Lenses that make the world always look bright, warm, and yellow.

Yesterday when I saw this man he had a look on his face that I recognized. I've seen that look before. I've seen it on Levi's face when others are being mean and he is trying to protect himself.

This man was passing by the skate park and some teenagers were giving him a hard time. Now, I'm a momma and when I see little ones being picked on the big momma bear in me raises its protective head and bares its ugly teeth. This man may have a grown body but his mind is a much younger version and when his momma put that orange vest on him it wasn't in the hopes that the public would only see him as he walks along a very busy street and not hit him but if he were in any trouble of any kind we'd take notice, stop, and help him out. Don't let my size fool you...........

I was thinking about who ever this man's momma is. How brave she is to put on this mans safety vest and let him be a big boy and have some independence. It is really hard to let go of your "normal" (define normal please.....ya, that's what I thought) kids let alone a special needs child and when you do, you hope and pray that the world out there will be kind and help you watch out for your baby because no matter how big your child is, they'll always be your baby. Especially your special needs babies who with the help of glasses or not, always see the world as bright, warm, and yellow and are shocked when ugliness appears in the form of another human being making fun of them, hurting them, or teasing them.

I think sometimes we forget that we all come here to this earth with special needs. Some are just more obvious than others. Maybe if we all wore orange safety vests we'd do a better job of looking out for each other as we try our hand at independence.

Conversation of teenagers

I over heard a conversation yesterday between these two Natives. The older Native was helping the younger Native with his math. It went like this:



Native one: I still don't get it. It doesn't make sense. The answer is wrong.

Native two: I just showed you the answer. Look in the back of the book. See?

Native one: It still doesn't make sense.

Native two: It does too make sense. This would even make sense to mom! It's so simple even mom could understand it.........



Gee thanks........punk!

Crackpot Tuesday

Photo by Taste of Home

As you can see I am a huge fan of "Taste of Home". The SM cringes when ever we go grocery shopping and they have a new magazine displayed at the check out. It is worse than taking The Native's by all the candy at the check out.

Mr. T chose Beef Vegetable Soup. Here is the recipe.

Most everyone gave it four stars. The SM and Mr. M gave it three stars and my baby girl gave it four and a half. Bottom line, they all ate it and no one said, "ewwwww what's that green stuff? It smells disgusting...." Which is five stars in my book.



On the other hand, when you have this for dessert and know that you can't even have a sniff of dessert until your dinner is gone........



On a side note. For you a quick viewing pleasure of the wind car in action that The SM helped our baby make.



And this kid. He's a punk. He makes me laugh and smile each and everyday and he got a new helmut to protect his beautiful head. "McQueen" out of all the helmuts I placed before him to choose. Levi wanted "McQueen"! KA-CHOW!

Men. Translation: Boys in bigger bodies

A recipe for little boys and bigger boys:



Ingredients: A little boy who thinks staying in his jammies all day is the norm and a work apron from Home Depot.




Left over peanut butter and jelly on the face of the little boy.




Left over pieces from the gazillion pine wood derby cars your dad and mum have made over the years and might I just add this one little side note......The Mum beat The SM's car the year she made one.......just thought I'd add that....you know...just in case you were wondering.




The final ingredient: A daddy who has the day off of work and comes up with a grand idea to take the fan out of your bedroom and make a wind car with his little boy......I'm trying to figure out who in this photo is the bigger kid......

Counting Sheep

Does it work for you cuz it doesn't seem to be happen'n for me. It goes something like this:

Picture me laying in bed......I'm exhausted.....my body is exhausted......"Oh I am so gonna snog out as soon as my head hits the pillow"!

Waiting.......eyes roll to the left....eyes roll to the right.....crickets in the back ground.......maybe if I close my eyes.......eyelids are bouncing around as my eyeballs roll around in my head........."Oh I know! Let's count sheep! I hear it works".

"One.....two......three......four.....rhymes with door.....the doors that I forgot to clean the sticky jam off of.......the front door is really bad.......not as bad as the porch.......it's covered in squash.....wish someone one would come and steal the squash off my porch........now that we've had a frost......all of my dead plants on my porch look like everyone elses.....wish someone would steal the squash off my front porch.....knock it off, think of sheep.........five......six......seven........I think baby sheepies are so cute......all snuggled up in the grass........grass.......ours hasn't been cut in a long time.......bet the neighbors are wishing we'd just move.......need to tell the Natives to get out there and cut the grass......and dog poop.......that is so gross when you rake leaves and rake up dog bombs.......but not as sick as when I stepped in that dog bomb the other day in my bare feet.......it squished between my toes......shudder......THAT WAS VILE!.......great.....now I'm all riled up thinking about stepping in dog bombs.......sheep woman! Sheep!........cant remember where I left off.......one.......two.......three.......four.....rhymes with snore......The SM is snoring.....that is just so typical.......he can fall right asleep when his head hits the pillow........I wonder if he'll stay asleep if I put my face close to his and stare........I hate it when The Natives do that to me........why can't they come in yelling........they always come in on tip toe.........sneak over to my side of the bed.......lean their faces two inches from mine.......and then....just stare.....and breathe.........creeps me out........that book I just read was creepy......now I'm creeped out.......I hate being awake and creeped out......wish I could sleep.....dang sheep!

Maybe tomorrow night I'll try counting chickens. They haven't hatched yet, think that'll be a problem?