Wednesday, February 23, 2011

a celebration of sorts.....

Remember last time when I asked if anyone wanted to buy a piece of crap car that requires more money thrown at it to work than a ridiculously over priced athlete?

Apparently there is a sucker for everything. The Audi (aka 'the money pit car from hell that was more like a curse than a super fun car to drive') is sold. And not just sold but gonzo from our driveway. I hope it doesn't break down.... at least for a couple of days.

We felt the need to celebrate this miraculous event with some burgers.

Monday, February 21, 2011

the skinny part 3 and a recipe....sort of.

This is a day late. I don't care and I doubt you do either. Yesterday I was in a sleepy stupor and couldn't get off the couch. 9 am church is such a let down for me. I was so looking forward to it in January when we switched times. Having the whole rest of the day to do with what I please sounded so wonderful. But the reality is that I am tired on Sundays and about as productive as a rock. It's not good.

Anyway, last weeks mile count was pretty dang good, if I do say so. 19.71 miles. This is strange to me because every workout I did except Friday's was torture. I just wasn't into it. The whole time I was doing it I wanted to quit and/or die and then all of a sudden on Friday I was running and I was feeling it and the whole time I was like "what is going on here? This is almost fun". Okay, not fun at all but not like medieval torture either.

I watch Bones on box set while I run. I'm not sure this type of association is good or not. What will happen when I'm done all the Bones in the world? I may never be able to run again! Or what if I am running and can't get the 'hot sexy FBI special agent who fights crime and wins' out of my head? These are matters of great concern.

Bones is so funny.

Sugar? Nope. But...... I did have a couple of treats this week. I have been avoiding any sort of substitute for treats because I am trying to eliminate the desire for treats, not just switch out a sugar substitute for the real thing. The man and I went to a movie (the worst movie I may have ever seen) and I wanted a treat so I bought a sugar free chocolate bar from Purdy's. Unfortunately it was delicious. And so was the Five Guys Burgers and Fries we had before that. That place is wicked.

Too bad Purdy's sugar free chocolate doesn't taste like poo. Secretly I was hoping it would. But it didn't.

On Saturday Holden got baptized. It was awesome. When I figure out how to get the pictures from my camera onto my computer I will show you how awesome it was. Since we moved, I still have yet to find certain necessary items to accomplish such goals. Moving sucks. Stuff gets lost and then I can only take pictures on my phone if I want any pictures. Enough.

All of my siblings were here with their spouses and that hasn't happened for a very long time. It was emotional and awesome.

For dessert Holden asked for Skor dessert. Everyone and their dog makes this in one form or another and calls it something different. We call it Skor Dessert. What do you call it? Anyway, I made it sugar free so I could eat it.

Chocolate cake, chocolate pudding, whip cream, actual Skor chocolate bars (not the skor bits) beaten to smithereens by the man sprinkled on top and then all layers repeated.

I made a bowl for Cicely and I without the Skor bits. It was good. My brother Derek noticed it tasted funny and asked me what was up. I told him it was sugar free and he said lots of judgmental things about how being off sugar is a waste of time and why would I waste such a good dessert and on and on and on......

Then my other brother Vance got wind it was sugar free and said it was gross but we all know that Vance would eat anything and that he would never have noticed if Derek didn't have such sensitive taste buds. And I mean sensitive like delicate and wimpy not like sweet and understanding.

It was good. I liked it and really, isn't that all that matters since I was the one that made it? Oh yeah right, Holden liked it too but he's eight and how hard is it to please an eight year old?

We have a showing today and that means I have some work to do. Since yesterday was the Sunday I didn't get off the couch which was after the Saturday where 25 people came for a dinner that hasn't really been cleaned up yet. So.... I guess I'll go do that now.

Anyone want to buy a really cool house that isn't completely renovated yet? Or an Audi that runs but needs some work? Or some used and slightly scratched furniture that I don't feel like moving?

Yeah.... I didn't think so.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

the message in the music

One of the scariest things to me as a mother is what my kids are listening to on the radio. What really gets my goat is when I find out that school bus drivers and school teachers are allowing this garbage onto the bus and into the classroom. My britches get burned when we're out driving around and the kids want to listen to the radio and they sing every word to every song. Songs I've never heard before because my tolerance for the radio is about 23 seconds long. When I try to turn the station because the song sounds more nerve grating than chewing tin foil, the kids yell "no don't turn it! I love this song". So I'll play it for awhile to see if it's appropriate. A lyric will come on that makes my skin crawl and they're singing at the tops of their little lungs and I say things like "how on earth do you know this repulsive song?" and they respond with "my teacher lets us listen to the radio during gym" and I want to drive to the school and punch someone's lights out.

Wowza..... what has gotten into me?

I don't know, maybe it's the fact that my children know more about table dancing and one night stands and drinking on the dance floor and armed robbery and being beaten down by men or by life or by over using drugs than any person should know in their lifetime. I hear parents say things like "my kids are little, they don't even know what they are singing."

Mmm hmm.

So, as of late, I have been on the look out for music that turns their crank without me feeling the necessity to have an important conversation with them every 5 minutes. Knowhatimean?

I have recently been turned on to these guys. And this song in particular. The kids dig it. Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm the last person on the planet to hear of them. Better late than never I always say.

What are you listening to?

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

in response......

Yesterday, a comment was left on my most recent blog post and when I read it I felt as though I have been grievously misleading you all for some time. I wanted to clarify, mostly for my sake, and maybe a little for yours.

I'm not really sure where I went wrong in that particular post but I think it may have been this comment, "It's all about the house for me. I'll know it when I see it." I think that's it, but maybe not. I'll clarify anyway.

I am not looking for bigger or better, in fact the next house may be a downsize from this one.

Actually, let me back track......

Before I even got married I remember driving through inner city neighbourhoods with my love, or my friends, or even once, that I can remember my mother, and looking at newer houses being built on older lots where the houses had been torn down and thinking that one day I would love to do that. I would love to do something so hugely creative. I'm not very creative in any other way than big thinking and dreaming.

My love and I got married. We were poor. We were 21. We had known each other for 7 months.

We moved to Edmonton because the man was offered a job. Back then he was more like a boy, I guess. When I think about it now I can't believe it. We were so young. Our first apartment cost $460 a month.

12 months later we moved into a bigger apartment, it was grand in comparison and cost $535 a month. We could barely afford it. 2 months later we skipped town, and our lease, and ran away back to my home, Calgary. We moved in with my parents for exactly 4 weeks.

We moved into a little 2 bedroom apartment where we lived for three months until, by default, we ended up with our first foster child. We weren't allowed to have kids in that apartment so our landlord hooked us up with a townhouse in the same complex. So we moved again. Two foster kids later I got pregnant.

When that baby was 1 we built our first house. It was much bigger than we needed but the point was to sell it after a year and make some money. Our first attempt in the real estate business. We were 24 and being dumb we didn't make much money. We sold it and moved into a rented townhouse until we could figure things out. My second baby was 6 months old.

6 months later we moved back to Edmonton where mortgages were cheap. We bought the cutest little 1100 square foot house you've ever seen. I painted the whole thing myself and I loved that house. We lived there for 5 years. It was while living in that house my 3rd baby was born. We also started fostering full time. It was tight with 5 kids under the age of 6.

When the third baby was 2 1/2 we moved back to Calgary so we could take my parent's foster son, my foster brother, and finish raising him while he lived out the remainder of his time in the system. My parents were retiring and we hoped we were doing the right thing. It was an opportunity to come home for me and I wanted it badly. The man detests Calgary and didn't want to leave Edmonton. He did it for me.

We bought a house that would fit the bill. We bought it right before the housing market went crazy. Our house doubled in value in less than a year. Eight months after we moved in I had my fourth and last baby. In that house we fostered 5 children.

This is where the "trouble" began. The man knew about all the equity in our home and it teased him mercilessly. He also knew about my previous desire to do something crazy within the building/reno industry. My desire had dwindled, no question, since I was so busy with the children, but I won't deny I was intrigued by our new found ability to pull the equity out and do something with it. He finally talked me into it.

We sold that house and moved in to a rental in Cochrane while we searched for the perfect adventure. This is when I started my blog. If you have been reading since the beginning you pretty much have a clear picture of what I've been up to. I am awesomely talented at not hiding my feelings.

And if you know how to count then you have, by now, read that we have moved 11 times. The 11th being the move to Willacy. 11 moves in 15 years is a lot of moving.

I have a restless spirit. I like to move. But now I am tired and worn out. My spirit is calming down, needing less change. I have four kids who deserve to be settled, even if I feel the desire to move around. I know a lot of people don't understand this and I couldn't even begin to explain how, up until now, it's been fine for me. Moving to Cochrane showed me that I, too, want to be settled...... somewhat.

We bought Willacy to renovate it and flip it. That was the plan and as much as I love this house, it isn't my home.

But how do you quell a restless spirit? You find her a home that is calming, in a neighbourhood where her church is strong and her children can make good and lasting friends. And so can she. Somewhere where she isn't going to feel the need to uproot everyone.....again. Sure, all of that can be found almost anywhere but I don't believe it's too much to ask to love the house you live in. At least love it enough to want to stay.

I'm not looking for my dream home, that would cost millions because it would come with maids and butlers and drivers and cooks. After all, I am a princess remember?

I'm also not afraid to buy something that needs repair or is a little rundown. I am confident in my abilities to use my hands in making something beautiful where it might not have been before.

I have four children and I want to bring in foster children. I want a home big enough for everyone. A mansion? No. Comfortable? Yes.

I'll know it is my home when I walk in and see the potential for my family to be rooted and for at risk children to come in and be safe and settled in an environment that is stable and calm. In an environment I have created for them, for everyone.

This is what I am looking for. I don't feel my desires are unrighteous, worldly or unworthy. I would be remiss, though, if I carried on this blog knowing that people thought I was ungrateful for what I have. Because I am not.

I've never been unhappy with any thing I have been given. Except the palsy, I was unhappy with that. But I have viewed every house we have lived in as temporary. This may be hard to understand for some but it is who I am. I'm a nomad by nature.

People change, I am changing. I feel the need to stay still for awhile. I am looking for a place to stay still in. My options seem endless and perhaps this is where the confusion lies. However, I don't think this attitude shows a lack of gratitude for the things I have had. I have been given many amazing opportunities. I have learned and grown from all of them.

I recognize my Father in Heaven's hand in everything I have and do. With His help and guidance I will find what I am searching for. And then, God willing, my disquieted spirit can begin to rest and grow in one place.

But I am grateful now, and will be forever, for my many blessings. Rest assured....... I am grateful.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

the skinny part deux

Busy week. Not much fun. More stress. Less sleep.

I did 17.81 miles of running/walking.

I am still off sugar. I actually feel remarkably fantastic about the whole thing. I will admit I am surprised by it all. I have lots to say about it but not right now. I have a sneaking suspicion that the 'no sugar' thing will continue on past the month of February. For me, anyway. Not the 13 year old who may die if she doesn't get some soon. She made sugar free red velvet cupcakes last night and they were either really good or we are so desperate we can't tell what good is anymore.

Regardless, I feel great without sugar. I like that feeling a lot.

We listed our house this week despite the fact it isn't done. There was an open house yesterday with a very decent turnout. I am not hopeful anything will happen soon and I feel entitled to this level of pessimism since today we discovered a new leak in the roof and the dishwasher started leaking on the kitchen floor. The man is still working to get things put back together and it is 7:45 on a Sunday night. I feel badly for the man.

Remember the movie the Money Pit? That is my life right now. Everything is falling apart. Apparently, it's only funny to watch though because no one around here is laughing all that much. Except at church when I make funny jokes and we laugh at me. I guess I am funny at church.

I now know why I can't decide where I want to live. It is all about the house for me. I'll know the house when I see it. And it may not be where I was hoping it would be. There's too much to think about in that regard so I will just focus on exercise and getting this dumb ol' house sold.

Good luck to Willacy, I think it now needs it.........

Thursday, February 10, 2011

thai thursday?

So maybe, perhaps, possibly I may make adding a favourite recipe to my blog a weekly thing. The problem is that I am not a stellar cook and the things we love, that I do cook well, are few and far between. So maybe, perhaps, possibly I will try new recipes and post them if they are delicious.

How does that sound?

Sounds delicious, right?

Before I start I want to tell you a story about a little boy who likes to try his mother's patience. We'll call him Jack because, well.... that's his name. Jack decided one day that he didn't like chicken. His mother found this annoying because they eat chicken at least 4 times a week. Chicken breasts, not the yucky, sinewy, vein-y chicken that comes in the nasty club packs for 2 cents a pound. The nice, expensive chicken breasts that are somewhat decent for your body.

Anywho.......this little man, Jack, would whine and complain and carry on when his mother made chicken until either she wanted to slam her own head in a drawer or ship him off to military school where if a big scary man dressed in a uniform screamed in his face he may actually shape up. (If I yelled like that in some kids face I'd get social services called on me but for whatever reason it's cool when a higher up in the military does it.)

Carrying on...... Jack and his mother came to an understanding. If Jack didn't like the chicken on his plate he could substitute his meal with a peanut butter sandwich. But, he had to substitute the whole meal. Otherwise Jack thought it was a super treat to have yummy bread and yummy potatoes with his peanut butter sandwich. Nope, sorry. It's the sandwich or the meal buddy. This worked for awhile. Jack and his mother rarely had stare-downs at the dinner table anymore.

Until a couple of nights ago when Jack crossed the line and the mother renegged on the deal. His mother made stir-fry, a family fave. She even cooked the chicken separately, so as to not rock the ever so rockable boat where Jack is concerned. He looked at it, made a stinky face, and pulled out the bread and the peanut butter.

What are you doing, my son?

Having a peanut butter sandwich, my mother.



Because why?

Because supper looks gross.

It's a stir-fry, one of your favourites. And it's rude to say it looks gross.

All I would eat from it is the carrots, broccoli and peppers anyway.

Okay, then eat the carrots, broccoli and peppers.

No. I don't like the looks of this stir-fry. I'll have a sandwich.

All right then, you can have a sandwich. And then you can have a sandwich every night for the next ten days or longer until you appear to have reached a level of gratitude I find acceptable.

Fast forward 24 hours. Mother is making hamburgers, Jacks all time favourite. Coincidence? I think not.

Yum, I love burgers.

I know you do, son. So while we are eating them we will think of you and your undying love for the hamburger. And while you are eating your peanut butter sandwich you can think about how much you wish you could have had a burger tonight instead of a peanut butter sandwich. It may put last night's stir-fry into a whole new light for you.

What? That's not fair!

Oh, I wasn't aware we were being fair. Because, I think it's not fair that I have to cook dinner every night, when I hate to cook, and then have you be rude and disrespectful and ungrateful for that meal that has been cooked for you. It would also be terribly unfair for you to have what you want all the time while I rarely get what I want. So..... I'll be fair when you are fair. That sounds fair. Right? Good. Now, here's your sandwich.

What's on the menu tonight? Maybe taco salad, which just so happens to be another favourite of the boy.

Here's a new fave around our house. Thai Kwon Dough from the Eat Shrink and Be Merry Cookbook. I love this cookbook and many of the recipes seem to win over the ever so picky children. Personally, I think it's the fun names.

Peanut Sauce
1/4 cup light peanut butter (I happen to have lots of peanut butter around)
1/4 cup hoisin sauce
1 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 tsp toasted sesame oil
2 tsp grated gingerroot
1 tsp each liquid honey, reduced sodium soy sauce, and red wine vinegar
1 tsp minced garlic
Pinch crushed red pepper flakes

1 cup chopped cooked chicken breast ( I do not measure this, I think it's dumb to measure certain things)
1 12-inch, prebaked, thin crust pizza shell
1 cup packed shredded light Monterey Jack cheese, divided (measured? Nope)
1/3 cup bean sprouts
1/4 cup each shredded carrots and chopped green onions
2 tbsp chopped roasted peanuts
1 tbsp fresh cilantro

Preheat oven to 425 F

To make sauce, combine all sauce ingredients in a small saucepan and heat over medium high heat, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and let cool slightly.

Mix 1 heaping tbsp of peanut sauce with chicken cubes and set aside. To assemble pizza, spread remaining sauce evenly over crust. Top with half the shredded cheese. Distribute chicken cubes evenly over cheese. Top with bean sprouts, carrots, green onions and peanuts in that order. Sprinkle remaining shredded cheese over toppings.

Place pizza directly on middle oven rack and bake for 10-12 minutes, until cheese is completely melted and edges are lightly browned. Sprinkle with cilantro before serving.

I made it more kid friendly by having everyone have their own pita bread shell as the pizza crust and then they can add what they want from the toppings as opposed to making one or two bigger pizzas.

I also doubled the sauce. These recipes never make enough sauce.

It was delish! And yes, Jack ate peanut butter instead.

Thai for dinner? I think so!

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

the unicorn and the princess

Last night I slept from midnight until 8:07 this morning when the children's voices woke me for school. The last time I slept like that was in 1979, when I was six.

Last week was brutal for sleep which I may have already mentioned. I started to dread bed time. The idea of lying in my cozy bed next to my cozy man and not have sleep take me was starting to scare me. Stress from life is so high right now. I almost can't see an end to it. This morning I yelled "My life sucks, everything in the universe sucks!" when I couldn't get the lid off a thermos. Over dramatic? Probably.

Back to the sleep thing. I started to avoid it. I thought if sleep doesn't know I am trying to lasso it then it can't evade me. I started staying up way too late, well past the point of exhaustion, in the hopes that my body would have no choice but to sleep harder until closer to the morning. I know 4 am is the morning but that's not the kind of morning I am talking about.

The problem with this strategy is that I don't go to bed with the man if I stay up too late. Our entire married life we have gone to bed at the same time, unless one of us is mad at the other, which is really not that often. It's our thing. We believe it's good for us and I think we're right. We go to bed at 10 or before but lately it's just been him and who could blame him, his life sucks right now too.

Anyway, the point is last night I slept. 8 straight hours. I can hardly believe it. I thought it worth mentioning.

Other things worth mentioning?

-I hate MLS. It irritates me. I find no answers there and therefore I want to shoot it.
-I miss sugar but it is definitely more emotional than physical.
-I hate the snow. So much do I hate the snow.
-and the cold. I hate it so much I want to shoot it.
-I want a magic wand so I don't have to do anything. I don't want to do anything. Ever.
-except a movie. I want to go to a movie

Okay. Enough. I am grateful too but today I am a whining princess.

And, one more thing. Have you ever been to Blockbuster with a unicorn?

I have.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

the skinny part 1

It's been a tough week. Sleep has not been my friend. I was struggling just to get by never mind workout. 3-5 hours a night since last Monday night. What is up with that anyway? I am hurting today. In a big sugar free sleepless kind of way. You know when you are sleep deprived and the world spins, or maybe you spin, and things don't seem real? Yeah.

I did my token three runs this week and I also did a pilates workout. I didn't do the yoga I swore I would do but that was because I couldn't find my yoga DVD's. They must still be packed somewhere. I'll have to get some from the library. Anyway.....

I did a measly 11.05 miles this week of running/walking. Not great but better than nothing which is what I would have done if I had let excuses decide my workouts.

Speaking of packing. (Were we speaking of that?) We are listing our house this week. With all of it's flaws, it's going on the market. Really, I just don't care anymore. I want to move on and get my sleep back. I wonder where my sleep is. What if I make the wrong choice in buying my next house? What if I end up in the wrong community, or worse, city, and my sleep is waiting for me somewhere else? I may never sleep again. I think this is why we move so much. The pressure of finding my forever home is too much. So I move a lot. There is less commitment with this. Maybe I don't like commitment. I just don't know anymore.

So, I wanted to talk, briefly, about one of the things I am trying to change, this year, in my broken mind. It's accepting who I am now and what I look like now.

For years I have been waiting. Waiting until I get skinny to buy new clothes. Waiting to lose the weight, again, before I get a really nice swimsuit. Waiting until I like what I look like before I get a really nice family photo done. (I know it's been a long time since we've had the nice family photo because my mother in law reminds me every time I see her.)

I can't wait anymore, it isn't right for my head. If I wait then that says I am not accepting who I am now. While I change my brain, which is going to take a long time, I must accept that this is what I look like now.

In an effort to do this I went to the mall and bought a pair of jeans that fit. Actually, I bought them a bit big because I thought it might be nice to have my clothes feel big as opposed to me feeling squished inside them. Turns out I bought them too big because I don't even have to undo them to get them on and off.

The size on the tag is the biggest number I have ever been. But since the jeans are too big, I know that that mongo number isn't actually my size so I guess I should have said that the size on the tag is the biggest number I have ever owned in a pair of jeans. Since my rational brain told me that that number isn't flashing in neon on my forehead when I wear them, it doesn't matter what the number is. I will be comfortable in these jeans and they will serve me well as I change my life.

So in an effort to keep this post to a reasonable number count I will be done now.

But I know you want to know. Did I eat the sugar this week? No, I did not. Six Days sugar free. I even took Crave cupcakes to my sister's birthday dinner and didn't have one. That's how freakin' serious I am.

And...... sugar free cookies just aren't the same but will do in a pinch. And...... baklava is sweetened with honey and not sugar so I had some of that. It was so sweet my throat ached. This is all very important to know. Okay, no it's not.

I am jonesin' for a Dark Angel, though…….or a brownie.......or some ice cream. Man, I love ice cream. And brownies. And dark angels........

Thursday, February 3, 2011

fave food

When I was exploding pregnant with my third kid this couple at church invited us over for dinner. I thought it was strange that a young, childless couple would want our company and with me as big as a house. Who knew how much I could eat? It was very brave of them. Plus, I thought the man part of that couple might be too much for me, I didn't really want to go. But, it was tons of fun and the food was yummy. Perfect for the young family. If you're reading this Jill, tell Brian that we loved him from that moment on and he was merely misunderstood at the time.

The Thornes are dear to us. And we love their Mexican Chicken.

Mexican Chicken:
6 boneless skinless chicken breasts
3 cups corn chips
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 pkg taco seasoning
1/2 cup milk
2 cups cheddar cheese

Cut chicken up into cubes and place in a 9x13 baking dish. Mix together soup, 1 1/2 cup cheese, milk and seasoning mix. Pour over top of chicken. Top with corn chips and cover. Bake at 375 for about 45 min. Remove from oven, uncover, add remaining cheese and put back into oven. Heat until cheese is melted and bubbly.

Serve over rice

Now, this is the official recipe Jill gave me but I'll tell you what I do differently.

Double the soup and the milk. If you buy those giant tubs of taco seasoning at Costco (if you are a mormon with lots of kids then you do) put as much as you want in. I don't measure but if I did then it be about 1/2 a cup (or more). I don't measure the cheese. Can there really be too much cheese? I didn't think so. Also, I use the whole bag of corn chips because otherwise I have a third of a bag sitting in my pantry forgotten about and when I go to make this meal again I need a new bag anyway so then there is another third of a bag sitting in the pantry and then when I move, which I do often, I end up throwing out 12 partially used bags of corn chips. This is annoying to me so I pour on the entire bag, the kids love it AND (this is critical) I don't put the corn chips on UNTIL THE LAST 15 MINUTES WHEN I PUT ON THE REMAINDER OF THE CHEESE. This way they don't get soggy.

Okay. There you have it. I have never met a person who didn't love this meal.

I have another new fave but I think I'll save it for next week.

What's for dinner tonight?

Buen provecho!!

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

lice, lice baby

I want to publicly thank Jess for the inspiration behind this blog post title. Ever since she posted about her cute baby being able to eat rice again I haven't been able to get Vanilla Ice's stupid song out of my head.

All right, stop. Collaborate and listen. Ice is back with my brand new invention.
Something grabs a hold of me tightly. Flow like a harpoon daily and nightly.
Will it ever stop? Yo! I don't know.

Is it stuck in your head now, Jess?

Good, serves you right.

So on Friday when I was doing my hair while talking to Amelia who wouldn't leave me alone I noticed the dreaded little black bugs in her hair.


Holy fetching crap. Do I hate lice!!!! I didn't freak out. Yes I did. I was panicked because not only did my sweet innocent child have lice but I was watching all my super fun weekend plans go out the window.

The boys were scheduled to go for a sleep over to their auntie's house and I won't tell you how much I was looking forward to spoiling my girls that night. Okay, yes I will. I was really super dooper looking forward to not having them around. I love them, I do. But sometimes...........

It was like when you have foster kids and you set up respite for the weekend and then you live for that weekend like it might be your last. It was like that only...... not.

I'll stop now since I officially just made the 'worst mommy of 2011' list.

Saturday we were going to have a little dinner party but, alas, lice in the house equals a weekend of hell and frustration and not dinner parties and sleepovers.

I immediately went to the drug store and bought a not recommended form of lice control.

See, years ago, when Cicely was in playschool she got lice. I did the Nix thing. And when the lice came back I did it again. Then when the lice came back I did the natural thing. Melaleuca and Tea Tree Oil. Then when the lice came I back I bought a gun and two bullets and some hair dye. I dyed her hair and if that didn't work I was going to shoot myself..... twice.

It worked. The lice was gone. So this time I just went and bought the dye. Amelia is the cutest little strawberry blonde kid you ever did see. Does this solidify my standing on the worst mommy list? Desperate times, man. Desperate times.

I bagged up anything and everything she has ever touched in the course of her lifetime and stuck it outside. Then I verbally thanked the heavens that the weather was supposed to get butt fetching cold again.

I did laundry and when it was done I did it again. Actually, even though there is no sign of those nasty little bugs anywhere I am still doing the laundry. She's five, she's touched a lot of stuff.

On Sunday, at church, I was obsessed with her hair and I sat and stared at it and picked through it like a monkey. I'm sure people thought I was disgusting, or crazy, or what have you.....

I wasn't convinced she was free and clear so I sent her and the man home. Then I went to drug store and bought some lice shampoo, the actual recommended form of lice control. I washed her hair and then combed through it for hours.

I let her watch Treehouse while I did it so as not to torture her too much. Me, on the other hand, where is that gun?

There was no school on Monday, thank goodness, and my time was freed up to do more laundry. Today I sent her to school.

After school I brought in all her toys, stuffies, beloved blankies and barbies. Oh the joy.

Heaven help us all if the bugs come back.

Also, today is day one of my sugar free month. It is 2:15 and I would kill for a sour soother.

Oh mercy.