There's A Fungus Among Us

When we moved into this house it already had all the appliances.
Old appliances.
Original-to-the-house old.
My appliances were new(er) so when we sold our house I took off the appliances on the listing and we brought them with us.
Now the way the kitchen is set here is a little out of the norm and where the refrigerator is, there was not enough room for my larger refrigerator from N.J. and we need our big fridge because we eat a lot.

There was a built in desk in the kitchen that I knew I would never use. So, I asked E to off it and rip that sucker out because I just knew my fridge would look perfect there. Do I need to tell you how right I was about that decision?

So, now we live with a kitchen that has two refrigerators in it. We are going to keep the one that came with the house because it is fairly new, and again, we eat a lot of food, so we were going to eventually move in into the garage once we knew what to do with the hole it would leave in the kitchen.
I don't use this fridge very much except to store some extra frozen meat, but when I opened it today to see what I had in there, I noticed it: mold.
Mold in my freezer!
Who even knew that could happen? Aren't freezer supposed to be cold enough to not let mold grow? I am so disgusted I cannot tell you.
Now added to my to-do-list for today is scrubbing down a freezer.

And yes, you waited for days for this most riveting post.

Favorite Things

Something about the first days of spring mack me melancholy (see my sidebar). I reminisce a lot those first warm days, so today I thought I would share some of my favorite things growing up with you:

Freezy Freaky gloves- you remember the kind that when the temperature was low enough a "surprise" design would show up on them. My sister and I would just cheat and put our gloves in the freezer.

Pop rocks, next to candy cigarettes, best candy ever.

Vidal Sassoon jeans-you were nobody in 5th grade if you didn't have Vidal Sassoon jeans or Gloria Vanderbilt jeans.

Roos sneakers. They rocked because they had a pocket on the side of the shoe. I always put coins in mine for the ice cream lady. You don't want to be the one with no coins when the ice cream lady rolls up on you.

Pink roll on deodorant. I begged my mom for this deodorant way before I needed it because it looked so cool. Everyone should have a pink ball roll on deodorant.

Fruit stripes gum- this gum was delicious for 5 seconds then the taste all went away and it was like chewing rubber cement. Still good times.

Passing notes in class- was it the notes that were fascinating or was it the thrill of getting caught by the teacher? Rate these boys, who would you rather kiss and who is actually wearing a bra to school were popular subjects. Not to be confused with the cheating note, that just had answers on it, tucked under your skirt so all you had to do was look down and flip your skirt hem up a tad.

Saturday morning cartoons- having cartoons on only Saturday mornings and occasionally after school made them special.

Clogs- They were dangerous and made of wood, but I loved mine.

Ditto sheets- hot off the press by your teacher while you were in gym class

Chad Allen- He was my crush. Remember him from Our House with I-pronounce-diabetes-wrong- Wilfred Brimely & Shannon Dougherty?

Wigwam socks- Expensive, thick, bulky socks to be work mostly with keds with NO laces.

Small Wonder- Does anyone remember this show? A man made a robot and had her live with his family & told everyone she was their daughter? Such a strange and fascinating premise.

Big neon colored hair clips with splatter paint on them- preferably worn on the side of your head. Very cool.

I want to hear your favorites from your past and read the comments because I know your comments are going to make me remember some more great things that I loved.


P.S. I have a great review and giveaway going on over here. wink, wink.

Weekly Goals

I am gearing up for having the kids home all week for spring break. This break happens to coincide with baby K having a breakdown which includes being glued to my side for every hour he is awake and even some when he is sleeping. He doesn't want to be apart and I love it, to a point.
That point is pooping. Nobody should have to poop with someone sitting on them.
Not even Fidel Castro. I beleive he deserves to poop alone.
It is distracting and just wrong on many, many levels.

This spring break just makes me more excited to look into a summer camp for them. Something at least 3 hours a day, 3 days a week sounds awesome to me.

*********

I can't believe how much junk we have moved with us to NH. We have junk everywhere. We have a four car garage with 1 car in it, because the rest of the space is taken up by junk.
My kids have as much "stuff" as we do despite my throwing away, donating and selling some of it. It is amazing to me how many toys they really have and how they never play with them.
Never.
There are toy boxes filled with toys that are never opened.
Don't get me started on the clothes.
Bins and bins of clothes old and new (to us) are stacked in my garage and closets.
My goal this week besides trying to stay sane, is bringing various toys and clothing to Goodwill. Someone will love it.

Tell me your goals for this week. If it involves sending me alcohol and/or Chick-fil-a sandwiches, bonus points for you!

What Happens In The Tub, Stays In The Tub

This is the scene I awoke to in my bathroom this morning. So many questions:

When did it become acceptable to swim without bathing suits?
where is the silver surfer's surf board? Shouldn't he be needing it, being that he was in the water and all.
Where does hello Kitty fit into this partay?
Why do my parties never end up looking like this much fun?
Why are all the superheroes face down but the Belle and Pocahontas face up? Is this some sort of signal?
Lastly and most importantly, who the hell is going to clean up this mess?

From E

Hi Everyone,

This is the Infamous E guest posting on Tuesday's blog. You're probably familiar with me and hopefully most of what you know is positive. Anyway, let me start by wishing Tuesday a Happy Birthday again from yesterday. We went out last night an had a great dinner with the kids at a nice seafood place. Tuesday was in great spirits and she looked beautiful, especially with her new scarf adorned around her awesome hair.

Tuesday has been adapting to life here in New Hampshire amazingly well and I am so proud of all the strides she has made in just two short months. As you are probably aware, she did not want to move here, but even with all of her reservations, she took a leap of faith with me... again and came here to have a better life. New Jersey kind of beat the crap out of us over the last few years and once I lost my job, it became impossible for us to stay. Thank you Tuesday for believing in me.

Tuesday is the best wife and mother a guy could ask for and I am grateful to have her in my life. I don't know how she takes care of our three kids everyday and I don't know how she did it for the six months I was commuting here every week, but somehow she did it... as I knew she would. She has made my kids the best behaved, well mannered, caring, funny and sweetest kids ever. Thank you Tuesday.

Tuesday really pours a lot of herself into this blog and allows you to see many things about her that I don't even know about. Thank you for following her and giving her good advice when she needs it. I look forward to guest posting again someday and maybe I'll let you in on some real dirt about Tuesday, but today I just wanted to say... I love you Tuesday.

A Girl and Her Roosters

My boys have the rooster gene and worse then that, they are terrible sleepers in general including E.

While I was taking care of three kids alone in NJ whilst E was off doing something far less superior, like starting a new career so we wouldn't be homeless, I had the pleasure of putting baby K to sleep for every nap, and bedtime 5-6 days a week.
He was terrible.
Dudes, there were nights when I would just sit in the rocking chair holding him and cry because he wouldn't let me put him down.
There were nights that I spent 3 hours putting him to bed only to have him wake up 4 hours later and want to hang out.
I would let him "cry himself to sleep" for 40 minutes before I couldn't take one more second of it.
I have never been so stressed out in all of my life.
There was no one to hand him off to, nobody else to try their hand at it and nobody to bring me a goblet of wine so I could cry into it. Then drink it in one big gulp.

I would do the worst thing that any parent could do: I would give up and let him sleep with me. I know that is just what he wanted and he just played me like a fiddle to get what he wanted.
I know he didn't need to sleep with me to sleep. I know all of this but I had to get some sleep, I was the only one taking care of these 3 little ones during the day, I needed to get some sleep. It is bad enough my BOYS get up no later than 6:30am 95% of the time.
No matter what time they go to bed, they are roosters.

I remember my father telling me a story once of a pediatrician whose sister had trouble with getting her baby to sleep. She told her she had to let her baby cry it out and in 3 magical days all her problems will be solved. On the second day the baby cried so long the mother wanted to go get her but her sister, the pediatrician, blocked the door.
So, she got a knife and told her to get out of the way.
The End.


Here we are at twelve months and he still doesn't sleep through the night every night. He still has troubles with us putting him to sleep no matter how tired he is.
Truthfully? As I am writing this post I am pushing him in his stroller with my foot.
Talk about multi-tasking.


I hesitated writing about this at all and haven't because please I parented twins and survived, this should be cake, how does a mother of 3 not know how to get her kid to sleep?
At this point I am at my wits end. I know separation anxiety has something to do with it and I know some of it is just habit.
I just don't know where to go from here.
And no, yelling "your stupid, F-ing rooster sperms!" at E does not help at all either.
I tried.
Repeatedly.

To Be Saved

When we went back to New Jersey last weekend we were in our driveway putting our boxes of junk into the trailer. I noticed my old friends passed by on the sidewalk in front of our house.
They were my LDS friends that visited me every so often on a Saturday so they could save my soul.

I was always nice to them, I can imagine people's reactions to them on their doorstep. People probably slammed their door in their faces every day.
Pamphlets with Jesus' face on the cover scattered in the streets sometimes, leftovers from when people didn't open their doors to them.
I was fascinated. Mormons/LDS is intriguing to me, I assume because there are few Mormon churches in NJ coupled with my adoration for the show Big Love (how great is Big Love?).

Truth is, I don't think I believe in religion anymore. What little faith I did have was lost when my father died.
I don't want to go to church, I don't want to pray to someone only when my times are tough and I don't want to be a hypocrite to my children.


The last time I saw my visitors I explained that I was moving in a couple of weeks. They wished me well and went on their way. In some way I wished I had more time with them. I do not want to become a Mormon, or a Buddhist or a baptist for that matter, I just wanted to understand how they could be so devoted.
How they could wrap their minds around the tragedies all around us, every single day and still believe.
I want to know why they care enough to walk around the streets in the winter to knock on people's doors to try and save a perfect strangers soul.
I want to ask them just what is so great about religion anyway? Religion is the cause of wars!

I will miss my weekend visits with my Mormon friends.
Or maybe, just maybe, I just wanted to be saved.