Tasty Reading?

Mrs. Nurse Boy here, of course.

Nurse Boy has had a very BUSY week and there seems to be no end in sight. He actually has school work due THIS WEEKEND (yes, I know it is Labor Day weekend, tell that to his professors) and he is on call for the next four days. I tell you, it is just fun for the whole family!

I know it will be all worth it. And, it is only for the next 3 or 4 years, but we are only on WEEK 2. 3 or 4 years seems like an eternity. I know it isn't when I look at my eight and five year old boys. Just yesterday I was feeding them in the middle of the night while mumbling something about, "When will you grow up and sleep when it is dark outside?" That really seems like it was yesterday...maybe because I haven't slept through the night for the last eight years. Oh, I kid.

Today, I spent the morning volunteering at the boys' school. I left Sweet Pea with her father. Nurse Boy had today off and had a mound of school work. Naturally, he thought he could watch her AND get work done. "Naturally", because he is the Father. He is not the mother who lives in the reality of "nothing seems to ever get accomplished when you have a two year old on your heels and a to do list a mile long."

When I returned home two hours later, he was on the floor playing with Sweet Pea. I asked how much he had accomplished and he laughed. Apparently, she would lick the pages of his book to get his attention every time he tried to read. What can I say? It worked! I must say, she is clever. A little weird, but clever none the less.

For the Love of Shopping

Mrs. Nurse Boy here.

I started staying home when Dimples was about 7 months old. I remember that it was a huge adjustment. I felt like I had nothing but time, and yet I still had so much to accomplish each and everyday. After a few months at home, Dimples and I ventured out and visited my old job. Everyone was excited to see us, except for a few jealous mothers who wanted to stay home. I could never quite get them to understand that my decision to stay home was not without sacrifice (mostly financial). One said mother asked me if I kept up with the soaps and ate bon bons all day. REALLY. She really did say that! And, with a straight face and very serious tone of voice! I was at a complete loss for words.

Why, yes! That is exactly what I do with my time. I know about all of the love triangles on daytime T.V. and I can really pack away the chocolate treats. And, when I am coming down from my sugar high, I like to take a three hour nap. What about Dimples, you ask? Well, he is pretty independent at 9 months of age. He can take care of the laundry, meal planning, grocery shopping, dishes and meal preparation. Me? I like to sit on my rump all day and watch the great talent that is Susan Lucci.

Oh, I know she doesn't represent the majority of working moms out there. It is just a memory I can't shake.

Anyway, fast forward about eight years. I now have the two boys in school full time and am staying home with Sweet Pea. Honestly, it has been glorious. I feel so guilty even typing that out loud. I am down to one child. I honestly think it is time to break out the bon bons and start watching the soaps. Only kidding, of course. I have been dreaming of girly things Emma and I can do. The only problem? She is two. I want to get our hair and nails done and enjoy a relaxing day at the spa, but she is still trying (mostly not trying) to pee and poop in the potty. Who wants to be at the spa with a stinky diaper? Not this mama! Oh, and did I mention that the spa would have to be FREE, ya know, that whole financial sacrifice thing.

So, last week we went to a Mr. Stinky Feet concert and went shopping. I actually enjoyed shopping with Sweet Pea. We weren't gone for too long. As we were walking back to the car, I couldn't find my keys right away. No big deal. I am carrying a huge purse, since Sweet Pea insists on pooping in her pants and I must be prepared for her to turn into Stink Pea at any given moment. I get to the car and unload the contents of my purse onto the parking lot. I am pretty sure this is a great way to get mugged, but a girl has to get home. (And, who wants to mug a lady with only 76 cents in her purse?) The whole time I am talking to Sweet Pea about my keys. I get to the bottom of my purse and not a key in sight. I fill my purse back up and tell Sweet Pea that we have to go find mommy's keys. At that moment, she hands me MY KEYS! Apparently, I am raising a Houdini!

Maybe she wasn't finished shopping.

A girl after my own heart!

To Blog or Not To Blog...

Mrs. Nurse Boy here. We have so much going on right now. I am afraid Nurse Boy won't be blogging until summer of 2011. I hope I am wrong, but it is not looking good. He worked most of the weekend and spent his "free time" on school work. His GI Lab was moving into a new and IMPROVED lab this weekend. Things should simmer down very soon..at least that is my story and I'm sticking to it. God and I have already been conversing. This could be a rough three years for ME, much less Nurse Boy. You see, my love language is quality time. It is hard to sneak in some quality time when Nurse Boy is too tired to muster up a complete thought, idea, or sentence.

But, that is not what I am blogging about.

I overheard a conversation at soccer practice last week that made my skin crawl. So, lucky for you, I will now share the horrible conversation that made my blood boil. Are you sure you want to keep reading? Really? Well, o.k.

So, these two moms were discussing the start of the school year. It started off innocent enough... Ya know, "How does 'Bobby' like the third grade?" "Does 'Johnny' like his teacher?" Etc.

Then came the discussion of homework. This is where it all went downhill.

"Bobby has entirely too much homework. I don't have time to spend 20 minutes to 30 minutes EVERYDAY dealing with his homework. I have stuff I need to get done in the evenings. It is too hard to make him sit there and finish his work." (As an educator and as a parent, I think 20-30 minutes falls into the "acceptable amount of homework" category. Maybe that it just me. Plus, I kind of like to know what they are learning. Again, maybe that is just me.)

So, Johnny's mother doesn't miss a beat. She says, "You shouldn't have to deal with homework. You're not a teacher!"

Blood, simmer down.

I wasn't a part of this conversation. I was not about to interrupt and get on my soapbox. No, that would be rude. So, in my head I was screaming, "You are a PARENT!!! A.K.A. A TEACHER!!!!! You ARE a teacher! Do you really want strangers to be the ONLY participants in your child's education?! REALLY? I know, it can be exhausting! What about parenthood isn't exhausting? TRUST me, all the hard stuff seems to be rewarding in the end."

O.K., so I am FAR from the end of my parenting career. I really do not claim to have any wisdom, just common sense...at least most of the time. And, I KNOW that homework can be frustrating. It just seems that we live in a society where we are "busy" doing things that aren't eternally important and we forget about the simple things that are. Oh, I am guilty of it myself ( after all, I was at soccer practice...exercise is also important ;0). But, I could hardly keep my lips closed. I feel sorry for those boys. I pray that they are being taught the importance of an education by someone.

I do realize that I will have an agonizing night of homework this week since I decided to post this. But, that is o.k. They are MY children. I want to support them in everything of value in their lives.

Except potty training. I do want to leave that up to someone else. Do I have any takers?!

The moms continued to talk. They soon began discussing their DUI's. They were from several years ago, but I realized they may have had a rough start in life. So, I am hoping they don't represent the majority of parents around here.

Sorry for the "heavy" reading. I promise something funny and shallow next post. ;0)

Happy Birthday, Nurse Boy!

It was after about a year of dating my beloved Nurse Boy when I was invited to celebrate his birthday with his family. I believe he was turning 19. Wow, we were so young! I went over to his parent's house for cake and ice cream. His mother had baked his favorite cake and the presents were wrapped. Now, this scenario is exactly how Nurse Boy might describe heaven: his mother's cake and endless stacks of presents to be unwrapped. Oh, wait... In heaven, he would not have to share his cake with his loving family. They could lick the batter bowl... maybe.

So, when his mother came into the dining room with a PINK cake ablaze with nineteen candles, I took a quick look around the room to see if this was a joke. No laughter. No giggles. Just singing.

You see, Nurse Boy is colorblind almost to the point that he doesn't see or notice color. I thought they might be having a little fun at his expense. I was wrong. Nurse Boy's favorite cake has PINK frosting. PINK!!!! This still cracks me up to this day.

Mama Nurse Boy was in town this weekend and Nurse Boy requested his favorite cake, times two. That's right, he asked her to make TWO cakes, since this is not heaven and he does have to share his PINK cake with the rest of us. He also asked for two because he believes that his mom is the only person who can bake this cake properly. Don't get me wrong, Mama Nurse Boy is an excellent cook, but she does follow a recipe when she makes the PINK cake. I think I am probably capable. Hey, one less thing for me to stress over!

So, in honor of Nurse Boy and his pink cake, I will share a picture of him with two of his very favorite things...

Happy Birthday, Nurse Boy!!! I love you, even though you insist on having a pink birthday cake.

(I think I will go celebrate with a big slice of cake while Nurse Boy is not looking. That cake may be pink, but it is good!)

I Did It!

Mrs. Nurse Boy here.

Maybe I should say Bruiser did it! But, today was not a test for him. It was a test for his overprotective mommy. The ENTIRE year will be his test. Today I left him at school. With a backpack and a lunch box. Yes, I know it was a Batman lunch box, but he still seemed grown up as he waved goodbye to me with a HUGE grin on his precious face.

I didn't cry! But, I am holding back the tears right now. Lord help me when Sweet Pea goes to Kindergarten!!!

Bruiser was so excited!!!

Dimples is ALWAYS excited to go back to school.

I love these brothers! Their excitement is almost contagious!

Here is to another great year!

My Baby...

Mrs. Nurse Boy here. WHERE is Nurse Boy, anyway? I think it is about time he blog again!


O.K. I know this is a boring topic. But, it is my (oops, Nurse Boy's) blog, so I get to pick the topics. My baby is about to go to kindergarten. KINDERGARTEN. You could say that Bruiser is not my baby, but TRUST me, they are ALL my babies and always will be. I have stayed home with him for almost 6 years. Oh, he is all boy and makes me grit my teeth daily, but he is so much fun. He truly loves his siblings. And his parents. And all of his grandparents. And even his friends. And, most importantly, he loves Jesus. He really is a pretty loving guy. Here is a picture of him with his new school 'do. He thinks he looks really cool when he gels it and styles it. I think he looks really GROWN. :0(

I will be o.k. I can do this, RIGHT? I was easier with Dimples. I worked part time at his school when he went to half day kindergarten. We still saw a lot of each other. Bruiser is going to full day kindergarten without me. I know he will be o.k. He is at an awesome school with a loving, Christian teacher. I just don't know how I am going to handle it...

So, I will sign off with a picture of how I will always remember Bruiser. My baby who thinks he is so cool. Yet, I know he still has a lot of growing up to do.

Take all the time you need!

She Did WHAT?

Mrs. Nurse Boy here.

So last night Nurse Boy was gone. No problem! He took Bruiser with him. Even less of a problem! Dimples had his best friend over, which meant that it was really Sweet Pea and I hanging out for the evening. No matter how much I begged and pleaded ,the boys really weren't interested in teaching an old woman how to beat the pulp out of the bad guys on PlayStation's version of Spiderman. Whatever...

So, when Sweet Pea was napping and the boys were saving the world in PlayStation land, I did what only comes natural. I did the laundry. I know, it was one wild Saturday night! I wish I could tell you that I was sipping a Starbucks and watching a chick flick while I folded. Now THAT would have been exciting. I think I had some rerun of Full House on or something. Hey, it is called cable with 100 channels of infomercials. It is worth every penny (at least that is what I tell myself when I write the check every month).

Anyway, when I heard Sweet Pea stirring in her bed, I ran to the basement to put in one more load of laundry. This took MAYBE three minutes. Bad idea. Little did I know that this gave her time to finger paint her body and her bed with her own POOP! That's right, my little girly, girl played in her poop! I opened the door to nothing but foolishness and mayhem! She immediately started crying when I entered the room. I guess that the sight of my face made her realize that this was a bad idea? I just can't understand why she EVER thought this might be a good idea. Why did she think it would be fun to cover herself in smelly, mushy, brown stuff? Maybe she saw one of my makeover shows where they took a mud bath? If only that was mud that I smelled!

In all fairness, I think each of the boys experimented with a body poop mask as well. I remember when Bruiser did it. At least Nurse Boy was home for that one. He took the gross kid and I took the laundry. (Are we seeing a theme here? I can NEVER get away from that laundry.) I was sure the girl wouldn't do it! It took all of me not to call Nurse Boy and tell him that I hoped HE was having fun, because I sure wasn't!

Sweet Pea is back to looking like a delicate flower. The clean up wasn't pretty, though. Let me just say that I had to trim her fingernails, because that WASN'T dirt trapped under there...

Look at What I Caught On Camera!

Nurse Boy and Sweet Pea sneaking some ice cream.

If she doesn't have her Daddy wrapped around her finger, then I don't know who does!

Let me also add that Nurse Boy does not share his ice cream with many people. Come to think of it, I don't think he has ever shared his ice cream with anyone before.

Hey, Mom...

when are you going to pay me my allowance?
did you know that the hands on the clock in our room glow in the dark?
I need to pee (for the third time in the last half hour).
what are we going to do tomorrow?
what is that noise outside?
do you know where my Star Wars action figures are?
will Dad be home tomorrow?
will someone come over tomorrow?
when will we go to the library?
I am hot.
are we going to the pool tomorrow?
how many days before school starts?
he won't stop talking to me.
who are you talking to on the phone?
can you turn up my ceiling fan?
I am thirsty.
I can't sleep.
I am hungry.
there is a light shining in my window.


These are actual questions and statements spoken by my boys AFTER they have been put to bed. Sometimes it is hard not to SCREAM at the very top of my lungs.

Tonight is one of those nights :0)

I am trying to smile, not SCREAM...

Mrs. Nurse Boy signing off for bed. Maybe I will fall asleep before them.

Rules of the Road

Mrs. Nurse Boy here.

Tonight we were out driving. Nurse Boy had the wheel when we almost ran over a squirrel. Unfortunately, he swerved and missed the squirrel. Nurse Boy does NOT understand the rules of the road while driving my van. (That's right. I said it. "MY van." Everyone else around here gets to say MINE all day long, why shouldn't I?)

I should start off by saying that it is a very well known fact that I, Mrs. Nurse Boy, HATE squirrels. Hate may not be a strong enough word for my true feelings about squirrels. My children think that they must protect the squirrels in our neighborhood from their vicious squirrel hating mom. They feel sorry for them. Meanwhile we must have 500, 000 of them living within a two block radius. About 100,000 of them call my three trees home. They wave at me, make faces at me, and even climb on my screen door and make noises at me. NO JOKE! The worst is when they climb on my roof and eat out of my gutters while smiling back at me, as if to say, "Ha, ha! You are providing food for me to stay alive." The best is when I find a dead one in my yard and I scream out to the others, "LET THIS BE A LESSON TO THE REST OF YOU!" No, I don't kill them. Really. I just dance on their graves.

So, my children know the rules of the road while mom is driving. I do not brake for squirrels. I do not slow down for squirrels. I do not swerve to miss squirrels. Those are the cold, hard facts. These are non-negotiable.

In all fairness, the children have negotiated a few things for the squirrels. I have agreed not to speed up for the squirrels or swerve to hit the squirrels (which I may or may not follow all the time).

I haven't hit one yet, but I am working on it. Every time the kids see a squirrel in the road, they hold their breath. As if that will save the squirrel's life. Maybe it has. Or they are all back there lifting that little squirrel up in prayer. Those little stinkers!!!

Nurse Boy isn't going to be driving my van if he can't follow the rules of the road. You might think it is harsh, but you would be on my side if you lived in my neighborhood.

Really, you would!