My lemonade drinking, string cheese eating, snotty-nosed, little bed-head.

let me just give you a run-down of my morning.

I woke up at about seven thirty to something running around in my celing. Yes. In my ceiling. After the infamous flying squirrel incident, I sat up in bed, and tried to calm my racing heart. I was thinking, “Where’s the cat? Where’s the stupid cat when I need him?”. Listening to the sound, I came to the conclusion that it sounded way too big and loud to be a mouse. The next conclusion I drew was that I do not have rats. I simply DO NOT HAVE RATS. Oliver would not have stood for it. Also, the fast running back and forth in the ceiling of my bedroom didn’t sound very rat-like, at least not what I would imagine a rat sounding like. Whatever it was sounded like it was having a good time. Like it was playing. So, I concluded, it must be a squirrel. I thought I heard meowing outside, so I got up, got my glasses, and went to the back door. No cat. Okay, maybe the cat was in the ceiling. How did the cat get in the ceiling? I don’t know. How does anything get in the ceiling? I comforted myself with thoughts of Oliver sneaking into the ceiling, and attacking the invader, guns blazing claws unsheathed. Thus, saving the day, and my sanity. This is the way I lulled myself to sleep…five times. Being awakened every so often to more scampering and one occasion of a thump and some sort of animalistic noise that I told myself was Oliver beating the holy crap out of the stupid squirrel.

So, somehow, I stayed in bed until ten o’clock when my kids woke up and the noises had vanished, and I arose with a terrible, burning headache. After I was up for an hour or so, Oliver showed up at the back door, returning from a night of possibly deviant behaviour with his little friend, No-Tail. So much for my feline avenger!

After that morning, I’m sure you can understand that I had to take a couple hours for myself to re-coup my equilibrium by reading blogs and message boards, eating tuna and crakers, drinking Pepsi, cleaning poop from Elijah’s carpet, legs, feet, and shirt (don’t ask….and don’t you dare laugh), and ignoring my children and the state of my home. I mean…you couldn’t expect me to have come out of that rearing and ready to go, could you? I didn’t think so.

So, now my computer says that it is 12:00 on the dot. I’m a lazy, lazy bum, and I need help. Psychiatric help probably, but I would prefer the household type. And a Nanny. And a poop-cleaner, in whatever category that falls.

Until that arrives, I am going to take a shower, clothe my naked son, wipe his nose for the fiftieth time this morning, clean the kitchen, clean the living room, do the laundry, clean the kids’ rooms, clean my room, clean the bathrooms, cook dinner, and kiss my husband passionately when he walks through the door tonight in hopes that he will not divorce my lazy butt.

***Update….It is eight minutes till two. I have showered, dressed Elijah, wiped his nose six times, cleaned up the kitchen (minus sweeping and mopping), and cleaned up the living room. See…progress.

***Update #2…It is five till three, and Kyra and Elijah’s rooms are cleaned. Won’t someone please come and take my kids for me? They’re driving me nuts. Kyra is taking offense to me locking her out of her room, and telling me that it’s not nice of me to put all of Elijah’s toys in his closet (he can’t open doors yet) except for about five or six of them. If she only knew what plans I have in store for their toys…their millions and millions of toys…come yard sale season. That is, if I hold out that long, and don’t take them all to Goodwill first. Anyway, got off on a tangent there. If someone could please just take my kids, it would make the rest of my day of cleaning go much smoother. Please? Pretty please?

Read this article, and then let me just say…give me a freakin’ break! I mean, for real.

Are people so stupid that they think children go to the store and buy their own groceries? I think not. Ya know, if you don’t want your kid to get fat by eating too much junk food…don’t buy them junk food. It doesn’t take a genius. They don’t buy their own food. The parents do. They say, oh, but when Junior asks for it, I want to make him happy. Well, ya know what? You aren’t supposed to make your kids happy all the time. Tell little Junior “no”, and get on with it. He will probably forget that you didn’t buy him his Fruit Loops before you even get out of the store. It’s not that big of a deal.

For goodness sakes, people! Use your brains!

I feel much better now.

How your baby’s growing: At 4 1/2 inches long (head to bottom) and 3 1/2 ounces, your baby is about the size of an avocado. In the next three weeks, she’ll go through a tremendous growth spurt, though, doubling her weight and adding inches to her length. Her lower limbs are much more developed now. Her head is more erect than it has been, and her eyes have moved toward the front of her head. Your baby’s ears are close to their final position, too. Some of her more advanced body systems are working, including her circulatory system and urinary tract. Her heart is now pumping about 25 quarts of blood each day, circulating her total blood volume through her body many times. (By the end of your pregnancy, this will increase to about 190 quarts.) The patterning of her scalp has begun, though her hair isn’t recognizable yet. Although closed, her eyes are moving (slowly), and she’s even started growing toenails.

Is she not just too flippin’ cute?

She has such a flair for fashion!

Daddy really LOVES pictures.

I asked for opinions about my boy names, here on my blog, and on two different message boards that I post on. I took Noah off the list because I was never crazy about it myself, and Chris told me last night that he doesn’t really like it. He’s always suggesting a name, only to tell me later that he didn’t really like it much in the first place. Anyway… Here are the results so far:

Judah: 4
Levi: 13
Asher: 13

I find myself leaning more and more towards Asher, but my mind is far from made up. I kind of thought that most people would think that Asher was way out there, and wouldn’t care for it. Finding out that so many people like it, it makes me like it even more, because I don’t feel so much like I might be giving my kid a name that no one likes but me.
Levi was my second favorite of the list, and it’s a close second in the poll of everyone else.
I will update this post if anyone else cares to give me your opinion. (I really hope you will!) A lot of people have read my post on the subject, but only one person has commented. (Thanks, Dianna.) Don’t you people love me? Just kidding. Of course you love me. How could you not? Right? Right?

I had tried to impress Kyra with my circus-like talents, by standing on my head. Normally, I can stand on my head with no problem, and am pretty good at it. Tonight, however, I couldn’t do it. I hate to say, but my baby belly has thrown off my center of gravity, and thus my balance. Kyra and Elijah, however, are expert head-standers…as the pictures prove. Or not.