Not so adventures of the St. Clair clan...

 I pulled a "Bobbi" yesterday.  This is when you do something awkward and embarrassing in a public setting.  Nailed it.   I went to a birthday party for a five-year-old and saw a mom I know sitting alone.  I decided I needed to stop being an introverted dork and make an effort to say hi.  I strode over to her table and in my extra friendly I-hope-I-don't-sound-fake voice said, "Hey, it's good to see you!  How are you doing?"  At which point she made eye-contact...and I realized she was definitely not my friend.  She was, however, very confused and a little taken back.  At this point, I made the situation much less awkward by saying something about her looking like someone else, sorry I accosted you, and I was wondering where you had gotten the new kid.   Smooth like butter. People say the middle school years are the hardest social years.  False . In middle school I was not self-conscious at all.  I would rock pho-boxers my grandma made me under my ultra bagg

 Did you know that it has been not  scientifically proven that a baby can smell her mother's presence through a closed door.  It's probably the smell of fear that they are actually attuned to, but nonetheless.  I hold my breath and walk on tiptoe past the baby's room and still get busted nearly every time.  My fear is pungent. Besides waking the babies, I have another fear currently in the forefront of my mind.  Don't mind me, this is just another episode of True Confessions.. .  Here it is: the boys are getting so much outside time that they are building up incredible endurance.  It's great really, but it is   becoming  so hard to wear them out. It used to be an hour at the playground and we were golden.  Now, they basically put in an eight-hour workday, and it's just a warm-up!  Does anybody have a treadmill....?  Real school is going to be a bit of an adjustment for the big guy next fall.    Speaking of school, it isn't currently a huge concern for him. 

Ross and I have talked about how when a student has issues with every teacher, or an employee with every boss they've had or and athlete with every coach - it might not be the teacher or boss or coach that is the problem.  I like patting myself on the back during these conversations because that's never been me. But then I heard a very convicting quote along those same lines - if everyone in your family is acting terrible at the same time, it might not be your family.  Oh.  Bummer.   So I might not have earned my "Mom of the Year" demerit badge today.  I was most definitely not the best version of myself.  Actually, I was the best version of my worst self - impatient, snarky, sarcastic, and basically finding joy in being short-tempered and a victim of the childness of our children.  I tried to blame Daylight Savings, the New moon, an early wake-up call, anything but myself.  Wahwaaaaah.   That's the loser buzzer sound if you're wondering. I was feeling pretty

I'm in the midst of baby naps being the only really productive part of my day.  I know productivity isn't the "most important" thing, but there are some chores that have  to get done (i.e. bills) and some that I really want  to get done.  The problem is, that while the girls are finally in a predictable nap routine, the boys have recently given up naps.  It was six-and-a-half glorious years, so I'm not complaining, but when they aren't napping they want to "help."   I should embrace and appreciate that they want to be helpers...and I do.  But.  But they want to help with ev-ery-thing I do.  Sometimes...sometimes I just really want to do it myself.  Most of the time, it's much more efficient to do it myself.  I'm trying not to squelch the helping spirit, but I've got a muscle twitch that won't go away.  I think it's tension.   This is how it goes: I am shoveling dirt. Sawyer loves to dig.  Sawyer asks to help.  I'm trying to le

 It's funny, how little things can trigger big emotions.  I see it all the time in our kids.  The wrong eating utensil causes earth shattering meltdowns.  A new tool brings uncontainable joy and has to be shared with every person - friend or stranger - who dares to make eye contact.  A wrong, real or imagined, triggers the red rage.  Sometimes we see the emotion coming and sometimes we are blindsided by it.   Today I was blindsided by my own emotions.  To be honest, I don't know exactly where it came from - maybe something I heard or something I read.  But the realization was this: life is precious and often shorter than expected.  Do the things.  Do the things you've been waiting to do, wanting to do, thinking about doing.   I'm not talking about taking extreme measures.  I won't be going on any extravagant vacations or having any mid-life escapades.  That doesn't even sound enticing.  But, I am going to wear my pearls.  I think they are beautiful, and I never

 I was never been the biggest fan of venison.  It was something I'd eat, but nothing I got excited about.  No longer.  Today, I look forward to the next plate of deer steak I can sink my teeth into.  Retribution!   The stinking deer are driving me insane.  I can grow n-o-t-h-i-n-g!  Nothing. I despise them, and they taunt me.  The game's about to change.  I'm going to eat them all!  Actually, I'm just going to build a really tall fence.  But I'm going to get a lot of satisfaction out of the next venison roast as well.   They have no sense of boundaries.  My parsley that I just babied back to life was practically inside our house when it got mowed back down to stubble.  I'm seriously ready to throw punches.  And I could, because they don't even budge when I come running after them.  I get the sideways, "what's the crazy lady up to now" look, and that's about it.  The boys give me the same look, so I had to give up chasing them with sticks wh

Fischer came to me excited this morning because he found a "secret" pocket inside his jacket.   "When I'm a little older, I can probably carry a lighter in there," he told me.  The jacket is a size 5T.  I'm not great with numbers, but I'm pretty sure you will never be old enough to carry a lighter in the pocket of that  jacket, Son.   Speaking of numbers and things not adding up: laundry.   For every two days of clothes wearing, I do about a weeks worth of laundry.  The boys laundry is the most mind boggling.  I emptied their hamper, and two days later they had three pair of pants, two shirts, seven pairs of socks and no underwear.  Seven pair of socks and no  underwear.  Two boys.  Two days.  Something just isn't adding up here.  It occurs to me that we might need to revisit basic hygiene rules and regulations. I've gotten a lot more comfortable around dirt, germs, and general filth in the past six years (not proud of this), but there are certai

 How many times a month is it appropriate for one family to visit the ER?  Asking for a friend...and it's me.   We haven't been there since the whole broken arm scenario, but it's like the kids are vying for who can be the first to go back.  The bike wrecks have been epic, especially now that they have set up jumps.  Then there was the whole, let's ride our scooters down the steep rocky driveway idea.  Take note - scooters aren't made to ride on rocks.  Fischer lost a lot of skin on that one.  We won't even discuss the off-road motorcycle track that they are now practicing their skills on. Then, the cousins came to visit and showed the boys what tree climbing can actually look like.  Today I found Fischer in the canopy of a madrone tree.  Thanks Marquez clan for that.  My hair is actually turning gray.   The girls are no better.  They are just smaller versions of destruction.  Yesterday, they discovered a weakness in their baby jail.  If they pop the corner just