I’m sorry, blog.  I have been cheating on you.  With facebook.  I didn’t intend to!  It is just so quick and easy to hop around people’s pages, leaving smart-assed comments behind me.  A trail of smart-assery, if you will.  Writing on you just takes time, because once I start rambling it takes me a while to stop, but just remember that’s not your fault, and try not to feel too slighted.  It is nice to communicate with other people, though.  Please don’t take this the wrong way, but sometimes this relationship feels a little one-sided.  I’m not dumping you, I PROMISE.  It’s just a fling.

So- Halloween!  Michael asked me if I knew where to get a good costume, not, AND I QUOTE, “a mom-made one.”  And even worse?  All I felt upon hearing these words was an overwhelming sense of relief.  A release from feeling guilty about not feeling guilty enough in the first place!  So what popular licensed plastic character did he want to be?  A spider.  Not spiderman, one of the popular costume aisle staples, but a spider.  There were no spider costumes to be purchased at Target, so mom got ALL SMART and bought a giant black spider to perch on his back (that blended in to his black sweatsuit to become invisible) and spiderwebs (that got messed up as soon as he touched them with his black gloves, which was as they were going on) and so it was pretty much SORRY DUDE, MAYBE NEXT YEAR.  Matthew was Snake Eyes, from G.I.Joe, even though he is not old enough to watch the new movie, and the twins were the perennial favorite Power Rangers (ninja moves abound!) They brought big momma a good bit of sugar.  (Big momma finished it.) Yes, Alex is trying to snatch the candy out of their little fingers.  I couldn’t believe it either- how dare he steal my our candy?!  Since he helped out with getting the four BURSTING AT THE SEAMS WITH EXCITEMENT boys ready, I let it slide.  (Well that, and the fact that he didn’t touch my peanut butter cups.)

So the other day I needed to send an e-card (yes, Alex, this is all your fault) and Hallmark.com was irritating me so I googled “free e-cards”.  I picked one and selected a card, which I could not send until I installed or downloaded or something some, uh, stuff or whatever.  The important part was that they seemed really nice and they SWORE they had no spyware or viruses or, you know, bad stuff.  And they were really, really nice!  Except that they LIED.  It took Mike TWO DAYS to make the computer work again.  I was very upset, because breaking my computer after promising they wouldn’t was just NOT VERY FRIENDLY.  And, apparently, illegal.  That’s right- illegal!  It is both impolite AND illegal (!) to give an innocent, trusting, unsuspecting individual spyware and/or viruses.  Except that when I asked who was in charge of the internet (in order to pursue justice!) Mike said NO ONE IS.  Something about it being “too big” to have a President or CEO or Officer of Internet Relations.  TALK ABOUT POOR DESIGN!  Don’t worry, I couldn’t believe it either.

Have you seen the car window decorations that resemble a half of a golf ball, surrounded by vinyl printed to resemble shattered glass?  As in “Oh, no, a golf ball broke my car window and also happened to get stuck in the glass”?  Well I saw one with a football today.  The pointy end of the football, protruding from the bottom middle of the car’s back window. All I could think was that it looked exactly like the car was POOPING, which may not have been quite the effect they were going for.

We (well, I) had a Traumatizing Experience today.  There was a GIANT TARANTULA on my couch.  We are talking like the size of a QUARTER.  And this is the THIRD in the past WEEK.  In my HOUSE.  You may be able to tell from my CAPS USAGE that I would rather bathe in a bathtub full of snakes than encounter a spider.  And here I was, ALONE, except for the twins, who were not much help.  Since they were witnessing the event, I am proud to say I handled it with dignity.  If “dignity” involves letting loose one bloodcurdling scream after another as I jumped around and attempted to whack at it with a shirt.  (Now that I think about it, they may not have been much help because my reaction paralyzed them in to shock.)  So anyway, trying to murder Aragog with a SpongeBob pajama top only made it angry, and if you are wondering what kind of fool uses a size 4 pajama top as a weapon the answer would be one who is MAD WITH PANIC, that’s who.  I finally managed to grab a hairbrush and clobber away until it was unquestionably deceased, after which I eventually remembered to stop screaming.  Our preschool teacher Mrs. Smith (or as we know her, Miss Sniff) will NO  DOUBT get quite an entertaining story today!

In this age of reusable grocery bags and health- conscious moms it is hip to be all eco-green-earth friendly- drive a hybrid giant suv- buy the expensive formula that makes your baby smarter and then recycle the can-stuff and that is good.  Go Earth!  And as you all know, I am so hip I can barely fit in to my pants.  But you had better believe that I am going to go git me some INDUSTRIAL STRENGTH POISON KILLER BUG SPRAY.  If they have one that is only legal in twelve states, I WILL BUY IT.  I want the spider to KEEL OVER AND DIE WHEN HE SEES THE CAN.  I would not shy from using a BLOWTORCH, were it not for the whole “burning the house down” issue.  Although if I see many more of these monstrosities around here, then HELL YES I WILL BURN THE HOUSE DOWN.

Do you remember me saying something about how being on the Prozac levelled out my emotions?  Neither do I.

I have not been writing very much over the past few months.  And when I have, it has pretty much been only about the children.  Because I have been pretty much only about the children.  Which is fine, were it not for the fact that it’s not, because I am feeling FLAT.  Boring.  Mechanical.  My me has gone missing.  (Those five words make the winner of the prestigious Most Grammatical Mistakes in one Sentence Award!  I would like to thank the little people.  And my me.)  I am behind on current events.  I have read nothing of intelligence.  I have not talked or written to anyone.  Just...bleh.  I am on autopilot through the skies of life.  (Most Cheesiest Cliche Ever Award!)  I have not made much of anything, except a painting for my uncle, and that was the perfect example of my problem- I loved painting again, it was creative and therapeutic and fun, but ever since I finished it a month ago my brushes have remained untouched because I could not muster up the desire to do it again.  My zest is gone!  And I think it is because of the Prozac.  I have been on it for a while now, and as has happened in the past, over time it levels me out to the point of, well, flatness.  So a last week I started tapering off of it, and I am feeling the difference already.  Michael is in the fourth grade now, which means he is old enough to play a band or orchestra instrument.  So I dug my violin out and had it restrung for him, and picked it up the other night on a whim to see how much I remembered.  I felt such a thorough happiness in my bones I was surprised to realize I’d been missing it for so long.  Hopefully this alivity (now it’s a word!) is a sign that my CRUSHING DEPRESSION has lifted, so that I can go back to my only mildly mentally unstable and vivacious (har har) self.  Then again, it is a good thing those words look DELISHUS because I will undoubtedly be eating them very soon.

Speaking of mentally unstable, have I ever mentioned my ridiculous social anxiety problem?  If I am comfortable around you (or inebriated) then I am one of those people that never shuts up, but otherwise?  Paralyzed by shyness.  I was at Shoprite the other day and there was a balding older man stocking yogurts.  I rerouted to the orange juice section, but wanted yogurt, and he was still stocking, so I forced myself over.  He smiled and made pleasant chit chat, and I smiled and laughed at his friendly joke, and then I ducked in to the tomato sauce aisle to finish my MASSIVE PANIC ATTACK.  A panic attack, because some chubby fifty-something year old stockboy man whatever followed company protocol in greeting the customers.  Who does that?!  Oh, that’s right- me.  Off meds!

So anyway, I have had lots of happy feelings lately, and it is nice!  All kittens and rainbows, lots of happy happiness, until I was at Old Navy the other day.  And saw a pair of stirrup pants.  STIRRUP PANTS.  I went from happy to Oh HELL No.   I understand that the young people enjoy the vintage retro hipster Goodwill clearance look, and that I am now very very old, but I have pictures of myself in middle school wearing stirrup pants and even in my “awkward stage” (actually my life since age four has been an awkward stage, but middle school was ultra awkward) they were just BAD.  The only person that can carry them off gracefully is a HORSE.  And I do not believe horses are allowed to shop at Old Navy.

Three days before school started I got the call- PRESCHOOL!!!  THE TWINS ARE GOING!!  TO PRESCHOOL!!!  Have you ever wanted to vomit from sheer joy?  I have!  The heavens opened and the angels played their trumpets and I screamed and shrieked and jumped up and down, and cried from shock and happiness and relief!  And then trembled with terror whenever the phone rang in case the school had discovered some sort of clerical error and was calling to say “sorry, crazy lady, but never mind.” I had prepared myself for another year of indentured servitude but from 12:40pm to 3:35pm every weekday I am FREEEEEEE!!!  FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!  I can shower!  I can do laundry!  Scoop cat litter!  Pee by myself!  Exercise!  (Theoretically speaking anyway.)  Do laundry!  Dishes!  Pay bills!  Go food shopping!  I can sew and paint and make jewelery and even read a real book (not that I remember how.)  I can answer emails (doubtful) and even write occasionally!  And all of the above can be done in SILENCE!

The twins were so ready for school, too- the social stuff, the learning stuff, blah blah (I’m freeeee!)  (Sorry about that.  Where was I?)  Gregory was so excited that after we bought his “bapack” he dressed himself (in a striped shirt and plaid shorts) and wore his backpack (with the tags still on it) for the rest of the day.

I let them pick out whatever backpacks they wanted from all of Target and funnily enough they picked ones almost the same (Batman) while just a little bit different (like themselves!)

I stitched some felt tags with their initials because I knew I would never remember whose was whose, which went over well because they are very proud of their letters.  (Whenever they see an A or a G on a sign, cereal box, whatever they are SO EXCITED to point out their letter.   “Look, Andrew, there’s your letter!” “How did that get there?”)

Aren’t they cute?!  (I have to admit, it is easier to think they are cute when they go away for three hours a day.)  Oh, and they ride the school bus home!  (Their preschool classes are at the elementary school.)  And a few of the fourth graders are assigned the job of preschool bus helper, so in a twist of extra cuteness Michael helps them get on the bus at the end of the day!

(Coming home after their first day.)

So now I can try new things!  Like facebook.  I have been on there three times now and it still makes ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE to me.  And you are supposed to ask people to be your friend.  Well, what if they say no?   I CAN’T HANDLE THAT KIND OF REJECTION!  I don’t understand why it is so popular now, because I find it to be nothing but stressful.  Someone needs to make a facebook for shy people, where you don’t have to talk to anyone.  Or make friends.  Or suffer from SOCIAL ANXIETY.  (Although I did find that a few White Russians can help with that.  They taste just like chocolate milk!)

So PRESCHOOL!   There were (many) times I never thought this day would come.  In fact, I still can’t believe it.  (Really.)  It might sink in before October or November, but for now I drop them off and walk back to the car in a daze of amazement  (Is this really happening?!)  On Friday I washed the kitchen rug!  I think there might be a chance that someday I might be a real person again!  (Notice I did not say normal person.  I know my limits.)  People keep saying  to me “You’re not going to know what to do with yourself now!”  and I barely manage to keep from answering “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!!”  Because I’m really not thinking that will be a problem.

Today was the first day of school.  I kept singing ‘Celebration’ by Kool and the Gang.  At the “Wahoo!” part I would throw my hands in the air.  Matthew said “Mom, you’re weird”, so I stopped.

Ha ha!  Just kidding!  I sang LOUDER!  (It’s the first day of school!) (WAHOO!)The twins had a busy day too- we went to the zoo!  A little local zoo, full of moms with strollers and sippy cups and playdates and momfriends and normal children.  There was a turkey roaming around, and one of the normal moms said to her normal kid “Don’t get too close, honey- he could bite.”  (And her kid listened!)  The next thing I see is Andrew running up to the turkey and YANKING OUT ONE OF ITS TAIL FEATHERS.  The normal moms all shared expressions of horror- that poor turkey got molested!  And that poor child could have been pecked to death!  Where was that kid’s mother?!  And then Gregory came charging out of nowhere at a nearby flock of turkeys, waving his arms around and screeching like a wild Indian as the turkeys scattered, squawking for their lives, and I could see the mothers’ sympathies siding firmly with Thanksgiving dinner so we made a quick exit to the monkey cages.  So that we could hang with our kind of… mammals.  (Get it?  Hang?!  Ha ha!)(Before the, ah, incident.)

The gerbils are fitting in to the household well!  I put a little straw house in their cage for them to sleep in, and Hamster spent hours disassembling it with his teeth.  Which is something that I CAN TOTALLY SEE THE TWINS DOING.That is all for now, but I have some EXCITING TWIN NEWS coming in the next post (it rhymes with shmeschool!)  I will leave you with a relaxing picture of them at rest-(Well at least the Power Rangers are calm.)

Jeez, I have not been writing at all lately.  UNFORTUNATELY there are only twelve days until school starts (not that I’m counting the seconds minutes hours days), but even then I will have the twins all day every day, still, because they ARE NOT GOING TO PRESCHOOL.  I am not going to get in to why, as it is a long and convoluted story, and I can hear you thinking “Um, Jennifer, ALL of  your stories are long and convoluted”, which is true, however this particular one happens to fill me with BONE- CRUSHING DESPAIR, so let us move onward!

Our family has grown!  We acquired two gerbils over the weekend, because with four kids, three cats, and a husband I don’t have enough to clean up after already.  To be honest I let the kids think they talked me in to it, but in actuality I have a predilection for cute small fuzzy animals.  And although they are boy gerbils (of course) they are are QUIET, which is a novelty around these parts.  But what to name them?  The second time I mistakenly referred to them as hamsters Matthew The Mouth Who Knows Everything And Is  Always Right shrilly shrieked “THEY AREN’T HAMSTERS, THEY’RE GERBILS!!!”, so you had better believe his smart-assed mother named the brown one ‘Hamster’.  And then Michael accidentally pronounced gerbil not as jurbil, but gerbil, as in gherkin and girdle, which was so cute that the gray one is now Gerbil.  So now we have Hamster and Gerbil, which the twins refer to as mice, so I’m predicting some serious rodent- identification issues in our new friends’ future.  Which is good, because everyone ELSE in this crazy house has issues, and I wouldn’t want them to feel left out.  (Of course constantly having several four-year-old fingers poking through the bars of their cage and tipping their house over probably would have taken care of that, but why leave things to chance?)

We watched The Princess Bride this morning, and the one guy looked a little familiar.  Turns out Mandy Patinkin has had an illustrious career in the dramatic arts spanning three decades, including roles in Yentyl, Dick Tracy, Chicago Hope, and (most recently) Criminal Minds.  I was not aware of any of that before now, though.  I recognized him from his role in the cinematic tour de force ELMO IN GROUCHLAND.  Because I am CULTURED like that!

I don’t remember what else I was going to write about.  In fighting over a car track Matthew “accidentally” kicked Gregory in the nose, which resulted in a deluge of blood over his shirt, his shorts, my shirt, my pants, the couch, the carpet, the kitchen floor, and several hand towels.  (The mice gerbils narrowly escaped the trail of carnage.)  Even the bleeder barely noticed, though- with the amount of blood shed around here on a daily basis someone could sever a limb and no one would be alarmed.  Hopefully one of these goons will become a world- renowned surgeon and be able to afford my room and board at The Home for the Demented and Insane!  (Although most days I feel like I am already there.)

Oh, I remember now!  I realized that I had my one year blogoversary!  In, ah, February, but I didn’t realize it until now, because I am ON TOP OF THINGS like that.  Anyway, where did the year (and a half) go?!  (That was a rhetorical question.  Please do not actually remind me.)  This calls for a celebration!  I’ll be the one gulping down vodka out of a paper cup while hiding from the kids behind the kitchen counter.  Feel free to join me!

I actually listed a couple of things in my Etsy shop!  It has been empty for about, oh, two years now.  The twins are old enough now that I can sew again!  Well, kind of sew.  Maybe a seam per hour.  (A good hour.)  Of course the house is worse than usual and I fed them a whole box of ice pops in one sitting to keep them occupied (coloring did not work) (nor did legos), but one must make SACRIFICES for Art, you know.

The link to my shop is to the right.  To spare you the trouble of having to purchase something I will generously allow you to just send me wads of money.  (You’re welcome!)

We were at the playground and Gregory climbed to the top of a big dome-shaped jungle gym.  He was so proud of himself!  And then realized he had to get down.   After some consideration he announced “Whew, Mommy, this is hard.  I have to use my Kung Fu skills.”

(His “skills” consisted of letting go and falling bum-first in the mulch.  Simple, yet effective!)

I have lots of stuff to write about later (Michael’s baseball championship game-winning run!) but for now, a few quick pictures…Michael- very busy

Daddy and boys- VERY BUSY.  (I made the fort out of outdoor fabric, grommets, and yarn.  High tech!)

Andrew and Gregory- Clearly VERY BUSYGregory- nuts BEAUTIFUL

And guess what!  Our town held a parade in my honor!  Luckily it happened to be on the fourth of July so everyone had off of work and could come.From right to left: cub scout, Michael, cub scout, Matthew, me!, and some other people I was nice enough to let in my parade.

(Two of my biggest fans)

That is all for now.  My house is DISGUSTING and Gregory is having a meltdown and my brain hurts from this dumb computer, probably because it is out of practice because I never use it  (You have 126 new emails!)  But it is hard to think when I’m REFEREEING four kids at once, or sleeping.  Which is about all I have been doing lately, except for when I am being a cafeteria lady, which is just most of the time (these boys eat A LOT), in which case I have to shovel out food while breaking up brawls.  Which can get tricky seeing as I only have two hands, two feet, a loud growl and an evil eye, which sounds like a lot, until I am walking and holding plates full of ketchup (Gregory’s favorite food) and no one is noticing my evil eye and my growling is drowned out by the battle cries.

One more note for the Matthew files:  We went to see Night at the Museum 2, which I loved because it was HYSTERICAL and want to see it again without children distracting the crap out of me but anyway afterwards Matthew asked me what my favorite part was.  I said General Custer (as in Custer’s Last Stand, battle at Little Bighorn in 1876, had a big mustache, that one).  Or so I thought…

[massive eyeroll] [heaving sigh] ” His name was General CLUSTER.”  (Duh, mom)

So I’m just letting everybody know that there might be a few history books out there that need their spelling corrected.  (Unless you would like to argue with Matthew.  I know better.)

No, my blog is not defunct.  Now MAH BRAIN, on the other hand, has not been functing much at all.   You have missed all sorts of fun things!  I had an emergency root canal, Matthew had pneumonia, Gregory ate an ant.  (“Mommy, there’s an ant crawling in my tummy!”")  After seeing my expression of disgust he knew the only logical thing to do was to EAT ANOTHER ONE.  Obviously!

I haven’t just been feeding my children insects, I’ve been terrifying them too!  On the way to the doctor I told Matthew “Your cough is probably just allergies, but just to be safe we’ll make sure you are not dying of pneumonia or anything.”  So when the doctor said the x-ray showed pneumonia the poor little thing’s eyes widened with horrified alarm because Oh my gosh, I’m going to DIE!!  MOM SAID SO!

My influence can’t be all bad, though.  The other day Andrew was playing with his action figures when I heard Batman exclaim “Oh my gracious!”  I don’t remember that from the cartoon.  (Don’t worry, my influence has limits.  The Joker was still a poopy butthead jerk.)

But generally speaking, all is as usual here.  (At least until next week, when SCHOOL ENDS.)  Gregory did tweak the cat’s name a bit, though, because why be conventional?  Now when he chases Puss-in-Boots around he shouts excitedly “Pu$$y boots!  Pu$$y boots!”, which would be perfectly fine if I didn’t catch MYSELF saying it.  Because it doesn’t sound as cute when you are not FOUR. (I used ‘$’ instead of ’s’ out of consideration for the people googling the free version of that phrase, whom I would imagine might not appreciate the linguistic exploits of a four-year-old.  I am nice like that.)