Wardrobe Malfunction

I don't get to get out much, (I'm sure you're all shocked.) but this weekend one of my really good friends got married. I needed a sitter but Jackie was going to the wedding too and all my other family members, in the area, work in the restaurant business and asking one of them to watch my kids on a Saturday night would be fruitless. Since the kids had been begging me to stay overnight at Gaga's house, I decided to call my mother-in-law and ask her to put her sanity on the line and keep three of my boys, then bring my sister-in-law home with me to watch Stone and Jovie.

Lesson 68: having to split up my kids and find multiple baby sitters just to go to a wedding = white trash

When I asked Gaga if she'd watch the boys, for some crazy reason she thought it sounded like fun and asked if she could keep Jovie as well. Before saying ok, I questioned whether or not this lady was all there. Who would gladly take my boys and beg for more? Should I leave my kids with this crazy person? After realizing they live with me every day, I decided they were, of course, safe. My sister-in-law was easy. Who doesn't want to come cuddle a baby?

The day of the wedding, I was thrilled to get out of my house. I felt like an actual person with an identity. It was liberating to sit through church and not have a squealing child or one whining, wondering when we are going home. My hands were free, I got to hold the bulletin and actually read it! But leave it to motherhood to rear its ugly head right when I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

About the time when my friend was saying her vows, I felt a warm trickle rolling down my stomach. The bad thing about breast feeding is your body will make milk even when it's not needed. Since Stone is such a good nurser I produce more than the average momma bear. I looked over at Jackie (she was my date since Adam had to work and her boyfriend was in another country) and chuckled.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I have breast milk leaking down my stomach."

Jackie of course found this very amusing, but was kind enough to take me home before the reception so I could relieve myself.

Unfortunately, when I got home, Stone was asleep, and you DO NOT wake up Stone. He's not exactly the most pleasant of babies. Not wanting my sister-in-law to have to deal with a cranky Stone, I decided to suffer through it.

At the begining of the reception, I was doing well. There was a lot of adult conversation, that I reveled in. No one said a word about Hot Wheels or Spongebob. No one cried or demanded a popsicle. It was amazing!

Then, while I ate, the flood gates let loose. Within twenty minutes my dress was soaked from my chest to my navel. Luckily, I chose a dress that didn't show the ridiculous state I was in. Jackie laughed and made fun of me all night, and though I was soaked and cold I refused to leave.

It eventually did get extremely uncomfortable. Not only was I soaked but I felt as if I would explode at any second, so we decided to leave.

"Do you want to go give Sam a hug and say goodbye?" Jackie asked.

"No!"

Lesson 69: not wanting to give your friend a hug on her wedding day because you're scared you'll ruin her beautiful dress with breast milk = white trash

Congrats Sam and Matt! May you have many, many happy years!!

Are You Serious?!

Yep, that's feces. This has been Jovie's favorite thing to do the past couple of days when she wakes up. Yesterday it was poop covered popcorn kernels. Why she ate a dozen popcorn kernels? I'll never know. None of my other kids have done this since Jagger pooped on Marky's bed and wrote on the walls, blaming it on his imaginary friend, Jack Raymond. (Yes, his imaginary friend has a first and last name. He's my kid, with my ridiculous imagination.)

If any of you are feeling the need to procreate, please feel free to come to my house for an all too real dose of reality.

Lesson 67: the Johnston kids, serving as a means of birth control since 2003

They're lucky they're so darn cute......even when they are covered in their own excrement.

Put On Your Red Shoes And Dance

As soon as Miss Jovie started taking note of the world, she became infatuated with shoes. When she learned to crawl, she would make a b-line for our shoe pile and spend time evaluating shoes and sticking her foot in the ones she deemed worthy.

She not only loves to wear shoes, but she plays with them as well. Not having a lot of girl toys in the house, she loves to play with Hot Wheels. She makes it a little less tomboyish by putting the cars in her shoes and driving those around.

Jackie and my mother-in-law are Jovie's partners in shoe crime, constantly buying her shoes to fuel her addiction. One time her Gaga (Adam's mom) took her to Target and ended up walking out of there with three new pairs of shoes! The one pair looked like pink ballet flats that were covered in glitter. These were Jovie's favorite until I had to remove them from the house. She had outgrown them but refused to stop wearing them. She'd shove her pudgy foot into them, then waddle around saying, "Ouch, ouch, ouch." My grandmother who said, "You must suffer to be beautiful" would be proud. Jovie took this to a whole new level when she cried as I pryed them off her feet with one of them actually bleeding from the top strap.

Lesson 64: wearing shoes that make you bleed, but not caring because you look fabulous = a whole lotta crazy

Luckily, Jackie felt sad for her and bought her a fancy pair of red shoes. She loves her red shoes. They don't really match with anything, but she doesn't care. She puts them on, then does a little dance, watching her shoes and squealing with delight. The first time Adam witnessed this he asked, "What is she doing?"

"She's just doing what David Bowie told her to do. She put on her red shoes and danced." I told him.

When Easter came Adam and I knew that we wanted to put a new pair of shoes in Jovie's Easter basket. With Adam's schedule during the holidays, I never have a lot of time to shop. Going to Walmart at 10:30 at night ended up being my only option. I found a cute pair of white sandals that I thought she would like. On Easter morning she peered into her basket and pulled the shoes out. She sneered at them and threw them back in the basket. Adam and I looked at each other feeling confused.

"Look Jovie, they're shoes." Adam told her as he tried to put them on. Jovie kicked her legs, but Adam managed to get a shoe on. She took one look at them then yelled and kicked her foot wildly until the shoe flew off. She never wore those shoes again. I put them on and she would immediately take them off. I gave up and passed them on to my niece.

Then, when Adam and I were wandering around Walmart on our anniversary,

Lesson 65: celebrating your anniversary wandering around Walmart = white trash

and we found a pair of little Tinkerbell flip-flops. The thought of Jovie in flip-flops was too much to pass up. The next day, when she woke up, we got out her new shoes. Again, she was unimpressed. She hasn't worn them once. It's not like she doesn't like flip-flops. She wears everyone else's.

"Is she too good for Walmart shoes?" I asked Adam. They are the only two pairs of shoes she's ever had that were bought there, and she refuses to wear them.

"Maybe."

"Is that a bad sign?"

"Definitely."

Lesson 66: being scared that your daughter is too good for Walmart = white trash

It's A Nice Day For A White (trash) Wedding

Today, Adam and I celebrate our 7th wedding anniversary. So, in honor of that fact, I’m going to tell you about our special day.

It was May 3, 2003, and though the weather had been dreadfully cold and dreary for months, the sun shone brightly and warm. Adam looked handsome in his dark gray suit with light blue shirt, and I felt confident in my pale blue dress. I chose blue since I had already been married (Lesson 59: marrying then getting divorced after 2 months = white trash) and I was noticeably pregnant.

Lesson 60: being 9 months pregnant at your wedding = white trash

The Justice of the Peace married us with a small gathering of loved ones. Afterward we had an awesome party at the fabulous Rockton Fire Hall. We ate delicious food that Adam cooked himself, and showed off the ridiculous wedding cake that Adam and I made ourselves.

Lesson 61: spending 23 hours together making an enormous wedding cake = one of the best moments of our lives

After the party we spent the night at Adam’s parent’s house before the trek home the next day so Adam could go to work. No fancy honeymoon.

When people ask what our wedding was like, we usually answer them in our best hillbilly voice (sounds like Mater off of the movie Cars),

Lesson 62: telling people, “Weez got hitched down at da JP, then had a fancy ree-ception over at da fire hall, and con-suu-mated da marriage on Adam’s parents floor.” = white trash

Yep, that’s how it went down. It may not be the fairy tale wedding you all dream about, but I did get my Prince Charming, and that’s all that matters!

Happy Anniversary Adam! I love you so very much!

Now back to enjoying our day……

Lesson 63: spending your Wedding Anniversary cleaning up kid vomit = white trash

…..but at least we get to clean it together! :)

Crazy

Nonsense. That word can sum up the past couple of weeks in this house. Did you know crazy was contagious? Just like colds, when one person gets it, they all come down with it. Adam and all the kids have caught the crazy, making them act completely bizarre. I seem to have caught a completely different strain. Mine is more of an irritated crazy, a side effect of dealing with the other absurd one everyone else is suffering from.

Adam is going through some ridiculous home renovation phase. Everyday, he wakes up, takes the kids to school, comes home and destroys something, then leaves for work. First, it was our driveway. Jackie’s railroad tie retaining wall that connects to our drive had become hazardous. There were sharp broken wood chunks and rusty dowel rods sticking out everywhere, waiting to impale one of my children. Adam removed them (with Jackie’s permission) and all the rocks, mud, and clay that surrounded them.

When he was half done, he chatted with me and moseyed over to the yard with the pick ax and pulled up a couple of bricks that stuck out of our yard. When he did this he found there were more under the grass. He thought it would only take a few minutes to pull out a dozen bricks. A day later, he had ripped up half my back yard.

Lesson 56: Finding enough bricks under your yard to build a retaining wall and barbeque = white trash

So, between the destruction of the retaining wall and half my yard, the kids have had ample amounts of mud to gambol in and track lovingly through my house. Their clothes and shoes have been destroyed, my floors have been defiled, and yesterday Jude cavorted in the mud then crawled into our minivan and wiped his feet on 2/3 of the seats. Not to mention, earlier this week Jet brought home a note from his teacher that read, “You can tell that it's Spring! We have a little problem of mud being tacked into our carpeted classroom.” It had to my kid, I just know it!

Lesson 57: teacher sending home notes because your filthy kid is destroying the school = white trash

The worst day had to be when Adam decided to remove everything from the kitchen and deposit it on the dining room table. Not that we use the table that much. There’s 8 of us and we only have 3 chairs, one stool (that can seat 2), and a drum seat. We’re still short 2 seats. Anyway, he sanded the unfinished drywall on our kitchen ceiling, leaving a layer of snow-like drywall dust covering the island, counters, and floor. Then he left. On his way out he said, “You should clean this up and paint the ceiling today.” I sighed as I held an inconsolable Stone, and watched my daughter throw potting soil, from the spider plant in my dining room, all over the floor. “I’ll get right on it.” I grumbled as Jude and Jet ran past me throwing drywall dust at each other, and leaving a trail of little white footprints from the kitchen to the living room.

Now for the kids, I don’t know what the heck is going on. They’ve all ODed on crazy pills. Whining and messes, fighting and messes, hysterical laughing, nonsense conversations, and you guessed it……MORE MESSES! There has been more fighting this month than there has ever been. Our Time Out chair hasn’t had a chance to cool off. There’s been real fighting and now Marky has introduced them to the world of wrestling. Great. Jovie has a big chuck of skin missing from her forehead (because she can’t miss out on a chance to beat up her brothers) and Jet has a black eye. You’d think this would stop them. Nope.

Jovie wins the award for messes. She’s depotted several plants, painted herself in feces, dumped a gallon of milk and swam in it, picked up Jude’s puke bucket and emptied it on the floor, doused my carpet in bubble solution, and that is just a taste of what she’s done. There’s more, trust me, but this blog is long enough.

Jet and Jude tie for the ridiculous conversation prize. They’ve both been saying really odd things, from Jet having night vision, to telling me he can smell chicken in his ears (Adam says it's a side effect of the night vision) and wanting to know, “Who shot dat chicken?”

Jude’s latest is when I go up to wipe his butt he yells, “Surprise! Happy Birthday!”

Lesson 58: only Birthday present you get is a potty chair full of stool = white trash

At least he got me something.