Release the hounds! The Kindergarten hunt is on!

So the Kindergarten hunt is on for the newest 4 year old. The state we live in requires children to be 5 by September 1st to start. Our kid just misses that deadline. Knowing this, we've been planning to try to get her into a private Kindergarten. We realize not every kid is ready for Kindergarten at 4 years 11 months. We think this one will be. Other people besides her father and I believe this as well.

So I started by making a list of all the schools that have a private Kindergarten in our area. I listed the ones near the house we currently live in and the ones near the neighborhood of the new house I secretly shop for on Realtor.com. That gave me 6 schools to choose from. One is boys only. Two make absolutely no no exceptions to the 5 by September 1st rule. And one of those was mentally crossed off my list before the chick on the phone even confirmed the no exceptions stance because she was such a raving wench. Which is so weird. Because what sort of school has a wench answer the phone? If they can't even do a good job picking someone to answer the phone, why would I think you can pick good teachers and treat my kid right? But whatever. They make no exceptions so it's a moot point. So now I'm down to 3 schools.

I went to look at one and it seemed nice and they could even take our 18 month old, too. Everyone at one location is gold but they only have Kindergarten. No first grade. We think she'll need private first grade too. And that's assuming we don't decide to keep her in private school forever. So this school will require extra switching of schools. I hate that. I believe strongly in consistency for our kids. I think it helps them feel safe and comfortable and confident. The newest 4 year old has gone to the same daycare for nearly 4 years. She's practically the mayor of the place and it's like a parade when she walks in greeting everyone we pass. I think that's priceless. So I think maybe that place is out.

That leaves me with 2 schools to choose from. One is close to our current neighborhood. The other is in the neighborhood of all the houses I secretly shop for on Realtor.com. The neighborhood we don't currently live in. The neighborhood I have no idea when we'll get to. I like to think it could be by the time she starts school in the fall. But I don't know. And the nice neighborhood school only goes through 1st grade. So we'd still have to switch her for second grade. Which would be fine if we decide to send her to public school for 2nd grade but who knows. The school in our current neighborhood goes through 8th grade so it won't require the school switching but moving to the neighborhood I secretly shop for on Realtor.com would mean having to drive across town to take her to school. Anything that increases my drive time sucks. Kind of like Kindergarten hunting. What on Earth.

I think I'll delay worrying about it until I go tour the last two schools and have the newest 4 year old evaluated. The chicks that answer the phones at every single private school I called felt the need to tell me repeatedly how rigorous their curriculum is and how most kids wouldn't be ready. One asked me if she's reading yet.

Too bad I never know what counts as reading. Obviously, she's not writing dissertations on the symbolism of Hester Prynne's scarlet A but she knows all the letters, the sounds they make and she's practicing sounding out words. She can also identify her name and recognize lots of simple words. But to me that just seems like memorization after seeing the words a lot. Is that reading? I don't know. I told all that to the chick on the phone and she made a point of telling me their preschoolers are all reading so if she's not she's probably not ready. But I told you I don't even know what counts. So shut up. Or I'll have the newest 4 year old memorize Kindergarten readiness exam questions so I can rub it in your "all our preschoolers are reading" face. Whatever. Who knew picking a Kindergarten would be so complicated?

I meet therefore I am

I started the week feeling pretty peppy only to slowly peeter out. Mainly because work has been so very, very busy. The moment I walk in the door there are things to do and people that require my attention. Many is the meeting I've sat through. Many is the hand I've been required to hold. Monday morning I came into work and headed straight into meetings. I didn't even get to check my email until after lunch. Which is the equivalent of totally leaving me hanging. Because if there's one thing you learn as you get promoted, it's that if the sky is falling it's going to be accompanied by no less than 47 emails documenting how and where things fell apart and what needs to be done. And at least 7 of those emails will be someone trying to deflect blame or otherwise push "the sky is falling" problem on someone else.

Technically, I planned to take today off to take care of some personal errands except I discovered a need for my presence specifically on a teleconference early this morning. I had to stay a little late yesterday just to coordinate the teleconference. When coworkers gave me a hard time for being at work a little later than usual I mentioned I had a matter on my desk that makes me want to stab my eyes out repeatedly. Which is worse than just wanting to stab my eyes out once but significantly less severe than something that makes me want to fling myself head first into a woodchipper. The hierarchy of things that torture my soul is a complicated business.

Tomorrow I have two meetings on my calendar but I have high hopes to disappear to parts unknown after lunch. I'll be so completely un-peppy by then it'll be hard to not scrap running errands and just head home for a bubble bath. Which is relaxing but not especially productive and I've got stuff to do, people! I've got appointments to make! Paperwork to fill out! A small child in need of a kindergarten! What kind of mother puts off kindergarten hunting to sit in a stupid teleconference? Someone's going to come to my house and take that child away and give her to a mother capable of getting her act together!

And I will be sad. Although I'll probably be sad while sitting in a meeting. Because if a tree falls in the forest and there's no one there to meet to discuss it, the tree didn't really fall and you are a liar for saying it did and you better figure out a way to get the alleged uprooted tree back in the ground no later than the close of business today. I meet therefore I am.

The driveway counts

Yesterday I took my daughter to meet up with the no show birthday girl from two weeks ago. Chuck E. Cheese again. Believe it or not, we had a really good time. Me, too. I almost didn't want to leave. Except they don't serve Dr. Pepper so I totally couldn't live there. But visiting is acceptable.

It probably didn't hurt that I left my 18 month old at home with his father this time. And that the birthday girl actually showed up. Apparently she had 104 fever last time and her mother attempted to call me. I forgave and forgot. Especially since I'm notoriously bad about getting calls and/or messages on my cell phone. Turns out she left me a message but I'm an idiot and routinely leave my cell phone at home on the weekends. Sucks to be me.

I sat with the birthday girl's mom and another kid's mom while the kids played. We chatted about kids for 4 hours. I'm not saying they're my new best friends. But they were really nice. So I hugged them when I left. I think that means I could use some lady friends.

I was going to make fun of going to Chuck E. Cheese again. Mostly the fact that for once I left the house alone with a kid without wanting to stab my eyes out. Except I just watched Jon and Kate Plus 8 and they were flying from Pennsylvania to Utah with their 8 small children and the plane got delayed 3 hours and they had to get through security and a million potty breaks and screaming kids everywhere you looked. I laughed the whole time until Kate broke down crying on the tarmac in Idaho after their plane got rerouted because of weather. And then I just felt like an ungrateful whore. It took 12 hours traveling with 8 kids to make her break down crying and I complain about the freaking Chuck E. Cheese. Someone save me from myself.

I swear we're going to leave the house more. Although, for the record, I really think going in the driveway should count as leaving the house.

I'm happy to have a bloated DVR for a change

Holy guacamole, my DVR is full. So much reality television. So little time. And my poor little DVR can only record two things at once so I even missed 2 nights of American Idol this week. That's what happens when you're recording schedule gets a little bloated. I've fine tuned things because Heaven forbid I miss that Australian guy doing anything even remotely as pretty as that Bohemian Rhapsody from last week. Anyway, the DVR is full and it's great to be alive.

Survivor: What on Earth, people. How can you vote out sweet little Yau-Man so early? I already miss him. And he's smart. Why do people on these shows never appreciate keeping smart people around for awhile? My husband and I thought the two groups of 4 should have gotten together and just agreed to vote off Cirie. Why beg for someone’s vote when you could just vote her out when she tries to be difficult? And why was she so worried about Yau-Man finding the immunity idol anyway? Just don’t send him to exile island. Then he can’t get it. And why would the other team want to send him to exile island either? Because they know he’s smart too and that he’d find it. Whatever. I like Cirie a lot less than I did last week. Mostly because the other game players let her be in control of the game. Which isn’t technically her fault but oh, well. I just hate when people spend too much time complaining about how things are out of their hands when in truth the power is right there in front of them the whole time. Like in The Wizard of Oz when Glenda tells Dorothy she had it all along. Now that I’m off the Cirie bandwagon I can’t decide who’s bandwagon I’m on though. I’m mostly hoping they do one of those tribal switcheroos so the two happy little couples get split up. Speaking of happy little couples . . .

Big Brother: Just when you thought nothing could be more annoying than Sheila complaining about her partner along comes Jen. My favorite is how she threw her boyfriend under the bus telling people he’s racist. Nice. National television, chick. National television. Do you care at all about his life after he leaves the house? Because it doesn’t seem like it. And lying to him about it is beyond dumb given the cameras capturing your every move. Good riddance.

Project Runway: Believe it or not, I kinda didn’t want Christian to win the fan favorite. Because even though he’s my best friend, I want him to win the whole show. And if that happens, now no one else gets any money. I guess I'm a let’s share the wealth kind of girl. Especially since the others are super talented too. Oh, and when did Carmen become overly sensitive to the extreme? I realize her men's outfit with no shirt might be a little embarrassing to have to relive over and over again but build a bridge and get over it already.

America’s Next Top Model: I’m all about Fatima. I’m also all about finding out when Marvita is going home. I'm of the opinion she's a bit of a wack job. I'm basing that on the fact that she was threatening to beat people up on the very first episode because someone made a hand gesture that touched her a tiny little bit. She also appears to lack some social skills which no amount of therapy will help. I also like Claire. She reminds me of someone. Maybe that chick from The Matrix. I’m not sure. Her face just seems familiar. She also seems nice.

Effortless is awesome but hand holding isn't

Yesterday was a good day. I told my husband that while I sat in the garage eating a sandwich for dinner while we watched the kids play in the driveway. I got a pretty good night’s rest. Everyone got up and out the door in the morning without screaming. Work was good. Traffic was light. And then we spent the evening washing the cars in the driveway. I even vacuumed. The kids drew chalk on the front window and rode their bikes. It was so peaceful and easy it was the sort of evening that makes you wish your entire life felt like that. Effortless. But sweet and familiar.

And then you go to work the next morning, and there are stacks of things to do, meetings to attend, training to make you want to kill yourself and not a moment to breath. Somedays, being busy is awesome. But somedays, when you need to call the doctor’s office and fill out some insurance paperwork, it's less awesome. In fact, it's kind of frustrating.

It's also above average frustrating when you already have a lot to do and then you discover people that need you to hold their hand every step of the way in order to get them to do their job. I don't have a problem showing people how to do things. And I don't mind explaining things either. But people who just lack the confidence to make decisions for themselves just annoy me. If I have to babysit you, it makes me think I don't need you. Which is harsh but real. And I like to keep it real. Don't pretend you're valuable if it takes two people to do your job. And, also, don't bother asking why you didn't get an award while everyone else did.

I'm off to hold more hands. If I have time, I may pretend to care too. Just kidding. Sort of. Oh, whatever.

Do my eyes deceive me or is that running water I see in my master bathroom

Thirteen and a half months ago my beloved tore out our master bathroom in hopes of someday sitting on his throne without a counter directly in his face. Eleven days ago, running water was finally restored to that master bathroom. And lo, it was a good day.

The toilet, the sink and the shower all work. I know this because some wacky toilet problem led to calling in a bona fide plumber and since he was here anyway my husband went ahead and told him we'd take the works. Look running water in the sink:

Don't believe me? Here I am brushing my teeth:

Every night since the sink got installed, I've walked to the hall bathroom to brush my teeth only to look around in confusion when my toothbrush wasn't there. In the morning, I never remember the toilet works until I'm flushing the toilet in the hall. It's the best mental block I've ever had to get over. Behold the awesomeness that is my nearly done master bathroom:

I love literally everything about that bathroom. I want to have babies with the wall color. I want to serve the wainscoting breakfast in bed for the rest of my life. And I'm already developing separation anxiety just thinking about leaving that bathroom behind when we move to the new house I secretly shop for on Realtor.com when I'm at work.

Although I feel certain I'm capable of letting go. Like, say, in exchange for a house with a whirlpool bathtub. And maybe a bigger kitchen. And a laundry room. And a better neighborhood. But for now, I'm happy pretending my entire house looks like that beautiful bathroom. Although, in my head, you don't have to step over a Shop Vac to get in the door. But it's all good.

Everyone that thinks Rami is addicted to draping please raise your hand

When the writer's strike first started, I missed The Office a lot and my DVR began to sit empty. I began reading more books and attempting to clean my house. But apparently stupid reality shows don't require writers. My DVR has been working overtime recently and my brain is back to being as mushy as ever!

Project Runway: Rami, Rami, Rami. So hot. Yet so overly obsessed with draping. When they walked into that museum and Greek draping was one of the choices, my first thought was, No, Rami, don't eat the apple from the tree. It's a test and Tim is an evil serpent trying to get you banished from the garden. Because Rami's really talented. But the judges are concerned that he's a one note designer. I think bypassing draping on that challenge would have sealed the deal for final 3 for him. Not that we'll ever know. Because Rami refused to skip such a golden opportunity to beat a dead draped horse. Although, seriously, I should live so long as to wear a dress as pretty as that dead draped horse. In other news, I already miss seeing Sweet P's face and I'm above average excited to see Chris' collection. It won't win. Not in a million years. But I bet it'll be fun. And, yawn, Christian kicked butt again. As if there was any doubt?

Survivor: Seriously. When is that Hercules looking dude getting voted out? He's on my nerves. For reasons I can't really pin point except that he seems to think he's way cooler and smarter than really is. That never fails to annoy me. Kind of like how it annoys me when people suck it up in a challenge and then spin it like they didn't at tribal council. Like, say, Chet. But it's all good, because I'm rooting for the favorites anyway. Not the face suckers though. Because, without Todd, Amanda does nothing for me. I'm all about Yau-Man and Cerie. But I'd be okay if they wanted to keep eye candy Ozzie around for awhile.

Big Brother: Gee, Sheila, I'm not sure if you hate your partner or not. Could you tell us again about what a total scumbag you think he is because he's not tall dark and handsome the way you like your men? Not that your partner is some great winner or anything, but seeing as how you just met him and it's just a stupid reality show partnership, maybe flipping out isn't really necessary.

Swiping the credit card and grande margaritas are all it takes

I called my mom last night to wish her a happy Valentine's Day. She asked what was going on with me and I actually said, "Not much." Which was odd since I actually spent the afternoon attending a funeral on Valentine's Day. Which sucked by the way. The funeral on Valentine's Day thing. It was for a coworker. Sweet and friendly and one of the hardest working people you'd ever meet. She died before her time under very sad circumstances. It was sad all the way around. It's difficult to imagine a worse way to spend the afternoon on Valentine's Day.

Instead of going back to work and pretending to be productive, I went home instead. Not because I'm against being productive. I just didn't feel like it. I did however feel like laying in bed under my snuggly comforter watching Big Brother. Then my husband took me to Sam's and bought me flowers. He says the flowers count as a present because he was the one that swiped the credit card through the machine. His insanity must be rubbing off on me because I'm actually starting to embrace this theory.

The margarita he bought me over dinner probably didn't hurt either. And when the waitress asked what size margarita, he even knew to insist on the grande. He's a "you only live once" kind of guy like that. I'm glad I'm the girl he's only living once with. I made him this card with my own two little hands just to tell him so:

Inside I wrote some sappy crap. You know, like how even bad days are better just knowing we're in it together. Because they are.

I also left these flowers in the newest 4 year old's bedroom for her to find when she woke up:

She was very pleased with them. Once I took her back into her bedroom to show them to her anyway. She's always in such a hurry to get up in the morning. She blew right past them in her hurry to go check to see if someone threw up a circus tent in the front yard for an impromptu show. She was also pretty pleased with the Valentines she made to give to her class:

They were just hearts cut out of scrapbook paper with scribbles on the back:

Then we folded them up just like Martha Stewart said to and I taped some candy on just like the newest 4 year old said to:

I think mini Hershey bars slipped inside the envelopes would have been way cuter but I always seem to do my best brainstorming long after I've checked out at the store and everyone's already strapped in their car seat so whatever. There's always next year. And the year after that. And the year after that. And there's tomorrow too. When I'll be spilling my every thought on all the exciting reality television I've been watching this week. Seriously, Rami, we get it. You're good at draping. Nina's nerves aren't the only ones you're getting on.

Watch out for construction paper falling from the sky

I have not yet made Valentine’s for my kids to take to their class parties tomorrow. Last year I planned ahead well enough to make cute flower things out of hearts. This year I did absolutely no brainstorming, have no cute materials to work with and appear to be fresh out of time. Not to mention I was planning to leave a little bitty bouquet of flower’s on the newest 4 year old’s dresser to find when she wakes up in the morning. That will require secretly buying flowers and staying awake long enough for her to fall asleep first. Which seems simple enough since she’s only 4 and I’m 33. But that kid enjoys torturing us by refusing to go to sleep. She's got books to read, conversations to have with stuffed animals and the ceiling to stare at. Whereas I'm a delicate flower that begins to wilt when the Project Runway credits roll.

Right now I’m thinking I’ll pull red and pink construction paper out of the sky and wave my magic wand. I’m going to need to wave the wand like 30 times though. Because I have 2 kids now and they each have a class full of kids to give crap to. I'll be happy if we can just manage to cut out some hearts and the newest 4 year old can do some cute 4 year old scribbling on them. And if some cute Valentine’s Day wrapping paper falls from the sky, Martha Stewart says I can fold it into an envelope and everyone will think I am awesome. I guess we'll see just how awesome I am.

I lost my mojo at the Chuck E. Cheese

Saturday night I really wanted to write a nice long post recounting my afternoon at the Chuck E. Cheese. However, upon returning home, I discovered that I had lost my mojo. It had apparently taken all the mojo I had to get me and my two children to and from the Chuck E. Cheese without stabbing my eyes out.

I’d like to say we started off on the right foot by leaving on time. Except the 18 month old staged a lay in when I tried to change him out of the pumpkin T-shirt he’d been wearing for 4 straight days. It’s one thing to wear a shirt from a holiday 4 months ago that has crap down the front and kinda sorta reeks inside the confines of your own home. When we attend social gatherings at public locations, however, I like to create the illusion that I'm not a crappy mother.

While he continued to protest the new shirt that was apparently burning the flesh from his body, I wrapped a present and located everyone’s shoes. Shoes that had gone missing. Shoes I franctically demanded the newest 4 year old help me locate. She was confused about why she was expected to know where her brother’s shoes were. She kept attempting to explain to me that she hadn’t seen them. I kept attempting to explain that she needed to start playing hide and go seek with the shoes or there’d be no trip to the Chuck E. Cheese and hence no fun to be had.

By the time we gave up and declared the shoes lost forever, the house looked like a war zone. No time to clean up though. Everyone to the car. We need to hurry and begin driving because I’m about to miss the correct freeway exit and drive 10 minutes out of our way. We’ll need all the time we can get to make up for that.

We drag in the door 20 minutes late. On top of being late, I was arriving with an extra kid who wasn't technically invited to the party. But I didn't really have a choice because my husband was at work and it was too hot outside to lock the kid in the trunk of the car. I even let the 18 month old bring his raggedy and slightly smelly blankie with him. It’s his most valuable possession. It probably shouldn’t ever leave our house because the sky would fall if we lost it. But it's grown stained and rather unsightly over the years. Unfortunately, he started crying when I told him to leave it in the car. So I weighed arriving late with a uninvited kid with a raggedy old blankie versus arriving with a uninvited screaming kid and decided the blankie was the lesser of the two evils. He strolled in the door looking like Linus with it sort of draped over his shoulder and dragging behind him. And I couldn’t have cared less.

Here’s the best part of the story though. Me and the motley crew get up to the hand stamping chick at the door only to find out the party was cancelled. Birthday girl woke up sick that morning. Last minute cancellation.

Um. Yeah.

So I’m thinking, let’s leave. My kids were thinking, dude, look at all that cool stuff in there!

So we stayed. Because I’m not completely heartless. Except maybe when it comes to The World’s Most Annoying Dog.

We went to the toddler area which is actually enclosed so you don’t have to worry about your kids wandering off too much. I sat at a booth and my kids shoved tokens in machines. After an hour I even agreed to order pizza and the newest 4 year old crashed the birthday parade.

I’m not entirely sure but I think maybe I’m eligible for sainthood now. It’s a special “alone at Chuck E. Cheese with 2 small kids” rule. You get bonus sainthood points if your 18 month old pitches a fit when it's time to leave and you have to carry his crying bowling ball butt the whole way to the car. Including while they check his hand stamp. And while his sister tries to convince you the unused birthday present is too heavy and her arms will surely fall off if she has to carry it even one more step. I guess she thought I could carry it with my teeth. Go, me.

House of Spandex = Great Episode of Project Runway

I would venture to say that any episode of Project Runway that requires the designers to shop at House of Spandex is bound to be good. I thought Tim was just being funny until they showed the actual name of the store on the window. Love it. Love Tim climbing through the ropes of the wrestling ring. Love designers brainstorming their own diva wrestler names and super powers. Love watching everyone taken out of their comfort zone. Except Chris I guess. Because that's spot on his comfort zone. I wasn't the least bit surprised he did great.

Rami had me the most concerned at the beginning. Especially when they showed him doing his trademark draping of the fabric even on a wrestling outfit. While initially concerned for Jillian she totally impressed me. Despite being way out of her comfort zone she came up with something really cute. And I think I actually kind of liked Ricky's outfit better than Sweet P's. I know Ricky's looked like a swimsuit instead of a costume but at least it didn't look like cheap crap. In the words of my best friend Christian, Sweet P's looked like a first grade craft project. And she didn't seem to have any sort of concept. Except maybe day-glow sparkly.

And of course I loved Christian's. Was there any doubt?

I'm actually trying to decide if last night's episode was my favorite Project Runway episode ever. I especially enjoy things that take the designers out of their comfort zone. Although, I'm also very partial to funny. So anything with Santino impersonating Tim is high on my list. Especially the Tim dining at Red Lobster one. But I also loved when they redesigned the U.S Postal uniform in season 1. And of course anytime they have to make stuff out of weird materials like food or plants. Remember Chloe's leaf dress? Remember when I did something other than watch reality television? Me neither.

Don’t worry. The stuffed turtle is dry now.

Last night, I blow dried a stuffed turtle. A turtle I’m forced to call a dog by the newest 4 year old. She spilled water on the turtle while water coloring at the dining room table. I feel somewhat confident that my brother and I were never allowed to water paint at the dining room table. My mother had a keen eye for activities prone to messes and always routed them outside. I, on the other hand, like to make sure my children do them over carpet. Just one of the many ways I like to bring a fresh new perspective to parenting. It’s also how I end up blow drying a stuffed turtle.

Luckily, the blow drying didn’t take long. I was able to get right back to my busy schedule of laying around watching DVR’d episodes of Jon and Kate Plus 8. That’s the TLC show about the couple who had twins followed by sextuplets. My husband can’t figure out what I like about the show. Specifically, I think it’s the screaming that gets him. It resembles our house. Except they have 4 times as many kids so there’s 4 times as much screaming. I think it’s the parents’ ability to not lose their minds with all the noise and chaos that has me riveted. My husband on the other hand likes to watch television to escape the screaming in our own house. So shows that involve screaming don’t really interest him.

My favorite part was when the father showed us the $.99 ear plugs he wears when they ride in the car. I only have two kids and I’ve contemplated ear plugs before. He says you can still hear but that it dampens the noise. I'm seriously contemplating trying it. And I’d like Kate to come over and dress my kids in little matchy matchy outfits and organize their birthday parties. But I would not like to be married to her because she seems kind of hard on her husband. Although, honestly, every time she makes a comment that I think might drive me nuts if I was married to her, I immediately forgive her because she’s at home all day with 8 kids and that’s enough to turn the nicest person you ever met into a total shrew so if that’s as shrew-ish as she gets she’s actually doing really well and Oprah should name her mother of the year and buy her a house or something.

Technically, I’m convinced their both on some sort of anti-anxiety medication. Doesn’t make you a bad person to need a little something something to keep your head above water. My husband says he’d have needed medication starting back when they had the twins. He also says he’d have skipped town before the sextuplets were born because even medication would not have been enough to see him through dealing with 8 small children. Which is okay, really, because I wouldn’t have missed him. Because my head would have exploded during the initial sonogram. And once your head has exploded, it’s difficult to miss anyone.

I also love how bare their house is of decorations. No curtains. No coffee table. No bookcases with knick knacks. I always want to know if they preemptively packed the stuff away to avoid it getting destroyed or if their kids have just destroyed everything. This probably fascinates me because we currently have a coffee table that’s been pushed up against a wall for three years and has only been used to store children’s books. I also went through a period of storing the kids shoes next to the garage door to easily get shoes on everyone before we left the house. These are not things I see in everyone’s house. I appreciate that their house seems very, very normal. And real. And the parents are funny. They seem like people I’d enjoy having dinner with. Unlike the Duggars who have 17 kids and seem like the sort of people that would make me feel like putting my headphones on if I was stuck sitting next to them on a plane. I’m sure they’re lovely people. Just not my cup of tea. And I’m not just saying that because the wife has hideous hair.

Children will agree to walk if you give them Krackel bars

My husband is out of town for work related training. Anytime he goes out of town I can count on 3 things. First, dinner will involve some form of chicken nuggets. Because I'm lazy and they're easy. And, perhaps more importantly, they're readily available in any drive thru at any time.

The second thing I can count on is that someone will eventually pee on the carpet. Generally, it's the world's most annoying dog. Last night, it was my 18 month old. His sister came up with the bright idea of letting him sit on the potty after she was done. While I admire her enthusiasm for potty training, it might be advisable for her to close the bathroom door in the future so he can't escape. Because I don't want to gross anyone out or anything, but last night our carpet was visited by more than just pee as a result of her error in judgement. I'll be issuing a letter of reprimand for her permanent file forthwith.

Finally, the third thing I can count on when my husband's away is a truly crappy night's rest. Part of it is that the kids don't seem to sleep as well when he's gone. The newest 4 year old wandered out of bed last night claiming she was scared to stay in her room. She wanted every light in her room on. We negotiated down to the closet and bathroom lights with the door open. But there were still tears and a late bedtime. And then a late night visit about a bad dream.

The 18 month old on the other hand likes to just make frequent contact with me throughout the night. Not "Come get me" cries. More like, "Why are there no Legos in this crib? I cannot live another day without Legos. Although, I do feel somewhat fatigued. Perhaps I will doze for two hours and revisit this topic at that time. Please standby."

I can't really blame the kids for not sleeping well when he's gone. I don't sleep well either. There's no one to forcibly cuddle with. The dogs always seem to need to pee at 3 am. And at some point I always hear a noise in another part of the house that I feel obligated to investigate. And that's with the burglar alarm turned on. Because, inside my head, the alarm will only prevent new intruders from entering the house and what if someone's been hiding in the closet for the last six hours waiting for me to go to sleep? Because, inside my head, my life is one gigantic episode of Law & Order SVU.

This morning after my restful night's sleep the alarm clock going off nearly gave me a heart attack. That was quickly followed by another near heart attack when the newest 4 year old slid off the counter while climbing up looking for candy. She made the mistake of putting her socks on first. I mean, seriously, who wears socks when they're climbing up on a counter? Obviously you need to do that barefoot. Do they teach that kid nothing at that daycare?

After I verified that she hadn't shoved her jaw out of alignment or rammed her teeth through her lip, I moved on to dealing with her brother who was busy staging a lay-in refusing to put on pants or remove his pajama shirt. It's amazing how ineffective, "But it's cold out" is when reasoning with an 18 month old. So I wrestled him into the pants while he kicked and screamed. And then my head exploded and Hershey's Krackel bars fell from the sky and everyone agreed to go to the car. They were still screaming of course. But at least they were willing to walk.

And honestly, some mornings willingness to walk is enough. In fact, some mornings, willingness to be carried is enough. Although less screaming would be nice.