I didn't blog today... because I was a) busy and b) lazy. All congruent. Anyhoo.

Oh, and recovering. Because yesterday I took all the kidlets to Houston for R2's neurologist appointment. 45 minutes there, nearly 3 hours in the doctor's office, and an hour home. I need a vacation. Here's a little glimpse.

then today, I climbed in the dumpster (twice) to retrieve a cash gift card someone had accidentally thrown away, and then the letter with the activation code... I then defied the tacit order to skip Christmas and bought a tree, by myself, brought it home and set it up by myself. Because I am hardcore. And it's CHRISTMAS.

Smartypants wants to answer YOUR holiday tradition and etiquette questions! Make her day.

Answer the poll! Over there -------------->

Today I have to drive downtown to take R2 to the neurologist. It makes my stomach all nervoussy. Not, all the brain stuff. That's just ho-hum. Noo... it's the driving. I hate driving to Houston. Today will be my first time ever to go with all 3 chilluns. Once I get there, it's just like being anywhere with 3 kids. But the driving. Eek.

Did I mention the MOG sprained his ankle on Thanksgiving? (delete all jokes and references to wus-ishness) Yesterday we finally tried to go to the doctor. But he has insurance, which makes it almost impossible to go to the doctor. First, I called the PCP on his insurance card. And, true to form, all heck breaks loose. The nurse says, annoyed.." Ma'am, I'm not going to be able to hear you with your baby crying." Nice. I could hear her just fine with a toddler tantrumning at my feet and a baby screeching in my ear. So when I have locked myself in the bathroom and called back, I wait 20 minutes on hold to find out they don't have any openings until late December. Thank you! That was SO helpful!
So I read on the card he can go to urgent care for a higher co-pay. So I pack up the kids, and he leaves work and we drive over there and unload. Oh, but he has insurance. And they don't take HMO. Or something. So I call the "customer service" people and they are shocked and amazed that I want them to find somewhere to take him. Ended up, after more shenanigans, dropping him off at the ER and going home and watching Top Model. Severe sprain. Splint, crutches and so on. So there you go.

Did you check out the possible new blog location? go there. http://www.yablonski.wordpress.com

Toby is now taking a nap. I don't understand why I hear drums... but he is in his room with the door closed and I am not asking questions.

We are moving in a month. A month from yesterday, actually. Do you know... I have never lived away from my family. All my siblings have, at some point, but me, never. This is going to be weird. And I hope it's not incredibly lonely and sad.
You see, Yablonskis are in each other's business. It's not so much like you have your life and I have mine... unless you want it that way. And even then, somebody is going to know what you're up to or see your picture in the paper and then all the family will discuss your doings amongst themselves. But if it makes that family member feel better, whatever. Anyways. My point is, we're a close family. Different close than we used to be, but still close. What will that be like when I am in Missouri, of all places? I barely even consider Missouri a state.

Here's a blogsite I'm considering moving to. Go try it out. http://www.yablonski.wordpress.com

these posts have been consistently late... so, not coincidentally, has naptime.

This is what I resorted to yesterday...












Today, I attached one of these...point, game, me.











Christmas begins December 1st... I am looking forward to decorating this tiny little apartment. Some people in this marriage are not so Christmassy... I won't name names. SOME people even suggested strongly that there would be no tree in this apartment. Scoff! Scoff! I scoff at Scrooge. There will be a tree. And it will be glorious. PLUS, I have a fireplace, where I will hang the stockings with care! Oh! I need new stockings! And OH Boy eggnog!

I'm into Christmas. It is SO on.

Toby can now open doors, and climb baby gates. I will never sleep again.

I generally put the boys to bed at 830-9. Then I eat and sew and read and talk to my husband until midnight-ish. Then I nurse Brynn 3 or 4 times overnight, and then the boys are awake by 8. That is not enough sleep. So the logical conclusion would be to go to bed earlier. But that's when I get to do fun mommy activities! Like eat without anyone putting their fingers in my sandwich!

I woke up grumpy. And Toby has been on a rampage all day.

Yeah, yeah... for this child I have prayed. And I am grateful. I am also grumpy. So there you go.

In other news, Thanksgiving was great. And we have 6 house possibilities... most with hardwood floors and fireplaces which is SO exciting.

Maybe I will eat now. Maybe Toby will take a nap. And maybe I'll find a million dollars.

If I had to choose between Thanksgiving and Christmas as my favorite, it would be Christmas. But close... the presents put it over the top.

Thanksgiving is such a Yablonski thing... get together with all the family, or as much as you can assemble, bring some turkey and ham and stuffing and sweet potatoes with marshmallows and corn related food items and things with green beans (which I don't eat, but it's part of it), and rolls and so on and so forth. And the dessert table. And carbonated beverages.

And then you all sit in some semblance of a circle and go to the trough. And after you are eating, or before, or during, maybe someone will do a Russian dance. Maybe even with an apple in their mouth. And the jokes are flying. Maybe some sibling rivalry from New Jersey. Or a skit of some kind. And then some more ham, maybe.

Thanksgiving

i need to have
this moment here
to see that everything has not changed

i need to know
that you, and I
are strong and happy and close

i need to hear
you laugh and laugh
and see it all the way to your eyes

i know the truth
sometimes the tears
are close behind the joy

but if we can laugh together
we'll be okay

the blogger, she is slacking lately. I am trying to make a quilt
3 quilts, actually. And it is very hard to find any time. So I sew.

Now, as the wee ones are shoveling chicken and greeb neabs, I type.

And now I'm getting IMed about finding a house. So I sew not.

Sorry, Josharoo. Your queries did not make the cut.

So we listed the Corolla on Craigslist... and immediately received 50 bazillion (with a "b") calls. And then these guys came and then we couldn't find the title. So all of us went to the tax office. Who said, the bank never gave us the title. To the bank, who said, the tax office are the ones and so on. So we're driving the poor buyer around everywhere trying to get our ducks in a row. Now, I am finally home and Richy and the guy are driving somewhere to do something blahbity blah.

In other news, I am going to be trying out some other blog sites, as many faithful readers have informed me they can no longer comment here... blogger has thrown them out. But first, go over to my picture blog and see if it lets you pariahs comment over there. That will be experiment ONE. Stay tuned!

I am in charge of the housing search. You gotta be keeding me. I have to find a house to rent via the web. And pick it. Pick a list of 10, actually. And google map them to their proximity to the House of Prayer. And make some kind of plan involving calling realtors and arranging for them to meet the MOG on his 24 hour jaunt to KC.

This is flipping me out. I know I will pick all lemons, and he will fly all the way there and be like... "WHAT was she thinking?" And the realtors will be like, "Here's a place for 50 million dollars. All we got. Sorry." And so on.

I could do an apartment, easy. But we don't want an apartment. We have a recording studio in our bedroom. Not prime tenants, we.

So... I booked a flight. Found a couple places. Now I need a break. Maybe we'll go buy some Magic Undies for the Tobes.

Dame Smartypants was thrilled with the response for last weeks column. Well, thrilled with the questions. The response... not so much. BUT! excellent questions. Please submit your best and brightest today through Monday morning!

Ah, the potty training. Ah. Back to that in mere moments.

The fast, is over. Long live meat and sweets. We prayed for Richy Tuesday night, and it was good. Really good. We didn't have a miraculous instant healing, but something definitely happened. So now we're just watching to see what God is up to.

The potty training has gone something like this. Toby, he is naked all the time. Can't keep a diaper on him. So I start the traditional approach of making him sit on the potty every 30 minutes. Nada. He prefers to pee on the carpet. So I give up. Onesies, backwards diapers, overalls... I haven't started duct tape yet. (yes, I'm serious). And somewhere along the way, he decides he will put his potty in front of the TV during Sesame Street and do some bizness. When I'm not even in there. And then he figures out if he tells me, he gets to flush the potty. So the pee marathon, it begins. We are flushing the potty literally almost constantly.
So I taught him how to climb up there and I'm out of a job. Now, if I can just figure out how to convince him to wear some undies... or pants. Shoot, a toga. Whatever. But stop the nudity. Please.

I'll update on the fast and the potty training and such tomorrow, too much good stuff for Smartypants today.

Anonymous said...
Mrs Smartypants,
How old must you be before it can be said you died of old age?
Strangely, this question has changed over time. In 1996, I would have considered 30 a ripe old age... worthy of surrendering your life, because you've lived it... and so on. Now, I'm thinking post-80.

Anonymous said...
Mrs SP,
Since we have angel food cake on earth, do they have people food cake in heaven?
Excellent question. I am told heaven boasts chocolate mansions. Edible chocolate mansions. I can't make it past that.

BethC said...
mrs. sp,
please explain why music soothes the savage beast
The question here, is what manner of person does savage beastly music sooth? For your consideration.

Anonymous said...
Ms SP,
Can music save my mortal soul as quoted from the song "Bye, Bye Miss American Pie"?
Just Wondering
Mmm.... pie.

Anonymous said...
hey smarty girl - when sour cream goes bad does it become sweet
When sour cream falls from grace, it becomes discolored. If your husband then eats it, is it your fault? The answer is emphatically NO.

Anonymous said...
Mrs SP,
Is eating a mermaid considered cannibalism?
I'm still laughing at this one. Beats me.

Anonymous said...
My Dear Ms Smartypants,
Which is best:
To put ones socks on both feet, then the shoes, OR sock on left foot, shoe on left foot, then sock on right foot, sock on right foot OR sock on right foot, shoe on right foot then sock on left foot, shoe on left foot?
Inquiring Mind
I asked an expert, Richard Lynn Clark the Second. He demonstrated the following technique. First, peruse your sock drawer, removing all unsuitable socks and throwing them on the floor. Next, sit in the living room and leave one sock in an unusual location, i.e. on the table. Place the remaining sock with the gray heel portion facing up, on your left foot. Hold up your shoes, very close to your face, assuring that they are not, in fact, your brother's shoes. Put the right foot shoe on the left foot. Begin the process of dressing foot 2, then realize you are missing a sock. Take off shoe, and sock. These things can only stay on in pairs. Go in search of sock #2. Unable to locate it, go back to the sock drawer, removing the remainder of its contents. Place the new #2 sock on the right foot. Lose sock 1. Watch a little PBS. Begin again.

Carl said...
Oh Smartypants,
I've always wondered, can a hearse carrying a corpse drive in the car-pool lane?
Car-pool Carl
You are one sick puppy, Carl. However, I have for your perusal the following ACTUAL news story.

The blow-up passenger doll is returning to Seattle HOV lanes
Posted by The Oregonian August 02, 2007 06:58AM
Categories: Puget Sound
What chaps Seattle-area commuters the most, ranked by complaints calls to police? It's people who are cheating in the car pool lane with dummies (adult and baby). The cops have heard it all. My dog is my passenger. I'm pregnant, and that counts. No. It doesn't. Passengers have to be alive. Not if a coffin in a hearse. The Seattle Times takes a broad look.

In King County, the Patrol gets more complaints about car-pool-lane violations than about any other violation. The State Patrol averages about 2,200 complaints in the county each month, and it only gets worse in the summer, said Merrill -- in June there were 3,839 complaints.
The Patrol issued 1,252 tickets for HOV violators in June. At the start of July, the fine for being a solo driver in the diamond lane went up from $101 to $124 a pop.

A survey of local drivers conducted three years ago by the Washington State Transportation Center found the majority of both solo drivers and HOV users thought car-pool-lane cheaters were committing a serious traffic violation.

Mama PC said...
dear SP
what does home owner do to remedy problem of one certain mama cat that flails herself upon the window screen in demand of a breakfast platter???
Have a good chuckle. Stupid animals.

Anonymous said...
Dear Ms SP
If laying in bed wide awake for hours......2am......after prayer and talking to God an still being wide awake........should you.....jump up.....and clean the house or lay there for 3 more hours?
A little educational reading might be in order. Perhaps a Farm Journal or An Inconvenient Truth.

Anonymous said...
Dear Ms. SP -
why do most theological discussions with children happen at bedtime when all you want is for them to put their head down and sleep? Or at bathtime when they ask if Adam & Eve had bellybuttons?
~ mystified missionary
Kids. No accounting for em.

I am fasting the internets for the final 3 days of this Daniel fast... feel like I need to intensify and get my heart right.

So that was yesterday, today and tomorrow. I'll be back on Tuesday evening and Smartypants will be in business (excellent Smartypants fodder) Wednesday morning.

Pray for me, I need a breakthrough. Muchos besas y gracias felicidad.


hee hee

Smartypants is a little melancholy today. Hit me with your funniest.

Froot Loops and Sesame Street. Kids have it good.

Sometimes, when I am immersed in the cares of this world- betrayal and friendship and love and hate, I wish I could just zip back to an age when stress was my cheeseburger falling apart.



Simple

but increasingly complicated

loving someone

and hating what they do



the wounds of a friend



Trusting

Forgetting the possibility

that all at once

the dagger could strike again



faithful

the wounds of a friend

I came in here all raring to start a Smartypants paragraph... when it occurs to me... today is THURSDAY.
That kinda day, folks.


This is why you can't trust dogs. I've said it a million times... well, I'm saying it now.

Iowa man recovering after being shot by his dog

DES MOINES (AP) — A hunter is recovering after he was shot in the leg at close range by his dog, who stepped on his shotgun and tripped the trigger, an official said Tuesday.
James Harris, 37, of Tama, was hit in the calf Saturday, the opening day of pheasant season, said Alan Foster, a spokesman with the Iowa Department of Natural Resources.

"He had surgery and is doing pretty well," he said. "He took between 100-120 pellets in about a 4-inch circle to his calf."

Harris was listed in good condition Tuesday, officials at University Hospitals in Iowa City said.

Harris was hunting with a group about three miles north of Grinnell. The group shot a bird, and when Harris went to get it, he put his gun on the ground and crossed a fence. As he crossed the fence, his hunting dog stepped on the gun, Foster said.

The gun was about 3 feet away from his leg.

"The muzzle velocity is so great that the pellets don't have a chance to spread out," he said.

No one else was hurt, and the dog was not injured.

Foster said no citations have been issued.

Copyright 2007 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.

If this story had been about a cat, I would believe it was intentional.

The park was a big hit. We're going again today... glorious cold weather means NO bugs! Which means I can go outdoors! For a little while, anyway. I don't care for the outdoors. A nice book and a window, I'm good.
Why no pictures of Toby's adorable little face, maybe you're asking. Because Toby in motion has no time for the paparazzi.

Sometimes, in the morning, I am thinking about everything I have to get done. And the pressure, it gets to me, man. I start making lists, and wasting time... I need a manager. But the only guy who has applied is a perfectionist. Luckily, lately he's been geeking out on his iPhone so much, I am getting away with it. But I have to figure out how to fit 3 lives into this one. Plus the literal 3 people who have to be fed and so on. The pressure, man.

Sorry this entry is so late... we had a busy day and I forgot to post, and then there were no new comments when I got home at 2ish, so I just lazed about (blog-wise) until now. The following BREAKING NEWS story was brought to my attention today by the brilliant and ever so humble Rush Limbaugh, and then again by the brilliant and ever so humble Josharoo.

You think it can't happen to you? So did these guys.

Danger: Beware of Falling Cows

MANSON, Wash. (AP) - Charles and Linda Everson were driving back to their hotel when their minivan was struck by a falling object—a 600-pound cow.
The Eversons were unhurt but the cow, which had fallen off a cliff, had to be euthanized.

The year-old cow fell about 200 feet from the cliff and landed on the hood of the couple's minivan, causing heavy damage.

A Chelan County fire chief, Arnold Baker, said the couple missed being killed by a matter of inches in the accident Sunday on a highway near Manson.

The Eversons, visiting the area from their home in Westland, Mich., to celebrate their first wedding anniversary, were checked at Lake Chelan Community Hospital as a precaution.

Everson, 49, said he didn't see the cow falling and didn't know what happened until afterward.

He said he kept repeating: "I don't believe this. I don't believe this."

In other news, it is GORGEOUS here today. I took these stir-crazy munchkins to the park. Pix tomorrow!

from yer mama (VKG): My dear sweet babies............

Where has the time gone? Just yesterday we were wall to wall cribs stumbling over each other. 9:50 my little "Indian" arrived followed 40 minutes later by my "pale face".......Your father gave you these little nicknames. Richy.....you were so red.....and loud ...and you had a black eye. Joke was you and your brother were fighting over who would get out first.....My little Bobby was pale and white and so quiet....and peaceful.........We were all so young........I am so very proud of the wonderful men you have become. I see you playing with your children now, and I gaze with awe..
God has done a mighty work in each of you.........and HE raised you up.....in spite of all the obstacles and struggles and hugs and kisses and tumbles and disappointments...................God kept His hand on you both...He never left your side.........He had His eye on you two every second.... .........you both have grown up to be fine young men and I am proud and honored to be your mother.....You turned out exactly how God intended.......My dear sweet babies who loved it when Mommy sang to them..and thought it sounded so beautiful.......are now wonderful husbands and fathers .....who now know the truth........and love me anyway.

Anonymous said...
Mrs. SP,
Is it really possible to love someone, but not like them?
No Love Louie
Of course this is possible. In the words of that immortal bard, William Shakespeare, " What wretched passion is this, this vile love of one I despise?" Or something along those lines.

Anonymous said...
Dear Mrs. SP,
When will I find my soulmate?
Soulless in San Diego
Your soulmate? I would check the Star Trek convention circuit and area laundromats.

Anonymous said...
How do you know when you have found "the one?"
Look for one with a strong fruity fragrance, a tough rind and no discoloration. Don't squeeze it, just press gently to determine firmness.

Anonymous said...
At what age should bed wetting stop? I worried...
Pee Peeing in Pasadena
The fact that you are capable of navigating the internet and asking this question is of some concern to this reporter.

In other news, today is Richy's birthday. I bought him the only thing he wanted... an iPhone. This is birthday and Christmas... his geeky little heart is singing. It is a phone, a computer, an iPod, etc, etc. It's cool. But it makes my head hurt. Am I futuristic enough by just having a cell phone? I don't even want one of those Cyborg ear pod things... sorry Nate. But they're weird. Just a cool little cell phone that makes calls, texts, takes pictures. I'm good.

Richy is 30. And, you won't believe it, but so is Robert.
Happy Happy Birthday!

In honor of Friday, I made fries today. Only they were baked.

Ms. Smartypants is the definitive voice on all things etiquett-al and political and social. Submit your questions from now until Monday morning and pray that you get an answer.

In other news, Richy's birthday is Monday. Sheesh. What do you get a guy that wants stuff only he can pick? A gift card, I guess. Lame. (I love gift cards, but for your spouse? not so much) And we're fasting sweets so no cake. He'll be 30. Weird. So, coincidentally, will Rob. This getting older thing is strange. You go along your whole life wanting to be older, and then all of the sudden, the crazy train picks up speed and there you go.

Today, I have been doing some very important research. The topic: can I paint a baby's fingernails?
I already know I can do toenails. (yawn) I have been doing that since she came home at less than 5 pounds. It is more challenging now, because she KICKS all the time, and yet less challenging because her toenails are actually visible.

What I have discovered: everybody has opinions and nobody knows anything. One comment I read said, "You should just get a Barbie!" Sheesh. And the general consensus is. no, you shouldn't paint them because you know, chemicals when she puts her hands in her mouth and so on. Which, duh. I have thought of that. But then I think, how many pounds of nail polish have I consumed in my life, biting the ol' metacarpal covers? Food for thought. (that was for you, Josh)

And okay, so she is tiny, and thus, the nail polish:person ratio is different. And I probably couldn't get it on her anyway. So I won't do it. But, since I have 30+ minutes to kill before my mommy lunch, why not read up?

And ear piercing.... maybe I should get a Barbie.