Oy Vey.

This summer, we took Kayden to the dentist for his third annual visit.

To my surprise, he had his first and only cavity.

I honestly thought there would be more (not that I wanted more:-).

The dental hygienist asked if he ate candy.

Is there such a thing as a mini-Buddy the Elf? I swear K would eat Snickers with spaghetti if I would let him.

Impulsively, I replied, "Oh noooooo. My kid never eats candy, he loves vegetables of all varieties."

Ok, not really. But I wanted to.

He comes by it naturally. I love chocolate, and my dad could eat Good N Plenty's by the bucket. My little brother has been known to eat an entire Oreo cookie package at one sitting.

When I caught Kayden climbing on the dog cage to reach a bag of candy on top of the fridge, I knew we had a problem.

I told him not to touch it, after all.

It was painful for him to watch me eat it as punishment.

Fortunately for him, the last few days has seen a flood of new candy. Trick or treating at papa's work, our church event, my parent's trunk or treat, and good ole trick or treating has filled up our pantry to overflowing.

Yes, there are eight full size candy bars in there.

Oy Vey.

I ended up separating it and putting five Ziploc bags aside.

How about you? Did it seem like your kids got a ton of candy this year?

Malibu Memory

I met Ozzy Osbourne.

Did I ever tell you that?

Probably not, since his ranking on my "Celebrities I Met While Living in California" list was quite low.

It was before the Osbournes had that strange reality show with ten thousand barking dogs and Ozzy calling Shaaaaaron all the time.

I was hired to be a glorified extra for a show called L.A.B.B.. You guessed it, the Los Angeles Beach Bash....filmed in beautiful Malibu with an artificial sun affixed to the house, to be distributed in England.

Regardless of what anyone tells you, it gets cold in California. Sporting a bikini in 65 degree weather confirmed it. And that darn artificial sun did not throw off an ounce of heat.

Various celebrities came and went throughout the day. Green Day played a concert in which they sprayed water over their adoring female fans. I officially sub-title L.A.B.B. as the day I came to hate Green Day.

I touted my celebrity knowledge when the camera man filmed a segment on what we all thought of the Carmen Electra and Dave Navarro nuptials. They forgot to mention she would arrive behind me as I spurted "I can't believe she would marry such a weirdo."

Nice. That will get you hired again.

The final segment airing of the day came when Ozzy shuffled out, presumably to talk about his new show on MTV. I clearly remember thinking how he should be the poster child for staying away from drugs and alcohol.

Tonight as I was walking through Target, I accidentally bumped into Ozzy again, complete with eye liner and black polish.

Forever and a day ago, from that life to now.

Thank you, Ozzy-look-alike, for reminding me of that day in Malibu and how happy I am living the ordinary life.

Get Your Cotton Candy!

I am about to say something profound, that you probably have never heard:

Josh hates to be touched.

Some guys are "huggers", some favor a strong handshake, perhaps even a hardy pat on the back. Josh likes none of the above.


So the fact that he has been checked three times for lice this week is hilarious. Envisioning two moms picking through his hairline as he hunches over in protest gives me a chuckle.

I bet you are scratching your head at this exact moment, huh?

5 fourth graders have come down with the creepy crawlers. I dare say it is an epidemic.




The annual tradition for Kayden's birthday is that we bring our cotton candy maker to the classroom, and each kid consumes as much sugary goodness as their stomach will allow.

Your welcome, parents.

At the forefront of my mind this week is if we should go all out and hope for lice in addition to the parasite we can't kick. Gotta go for broke, right?


In all seriousness, I might just go lunch lady style and don a plastic shower cap.

A Costume Suggestion

I love Halloween.

Considering I hate the color orange, it really is surprising.

Plotting which costumes my kids are going to wear starts before the leaves change hue.

Giving birth to Kayden on October 21st only cemented my happiness when the calendar flips to fall.

In truth, I love it because it represents the start of the holidays. Living in California for the first part of our married life, I cherished being with family around Thanksgiving and Christmas. Halloween was the start. Once pumpkins started appearing, I knew I would be flying back to MI to see my family soon. Usually Twice.

Our church has a family themed costume contest at the Halloween Hullabaloo. Winner gets to chose a basket of goodies. Last year, the coveted Snuggie was among raffle prizes.

Any hopes for winning two years in a row were dashed when Kayden foiled my Family Flintstones theme, stating he would rather be a shark than Dino the dinosaur.

How about a Harlem Globetrotter? Nope.

A hot air balloon? Nope.

PacMan? Nope. Mom, I just want to be a shark this year.

Well, do you want to win or do you want to be a shark?

Kidding. I only mustered that internally.

Or maybe externally once.

Sunday, we headed out to Party City to purchase his Scooby Do birthday party invitations. As I was picking out the Number 6 candle, Kayden said excitedly, "I think you should wear this for Halloween!"

"See, Mom! It has a big pumpkin on it!" he said in condolence.

I am sure this is just the ticket for winning the church contest.

The question is, how will I walk in those heels?

Unexpected

It all started Tuesday.

My little brother and his wife spent Monday night searching used car lots, looking for a good deal. They found a ton of Mini Vans, but Cash for Clunkers has effectively wiped out the used car market.

I had been driving Jan's Mini Van while they were out of town. The added space is undeniably nice. I remember taking Kayden and a friend to the children's museum, and how it took twenty minutes to strap his car seat between my two. Bryce has gotten so big, he cannot fit in between the front passenger seat and his car seat. In order to get him in, I have to fold him in half and carefully hoist between the two seats.

Since there was a plethora of minivans on the lot, my mom suggested selling my brother the Santa Fe and trading to a Mom Ride. Our biggest concern was price. After paying five years and finally receiving that pink title in the mail this summer, I did not want to add a monthly car payment.

Lot after lot was searched, only to find salesman more concerned with showing me the shopping cart hooks or kid viewing mirrors than discuss engine maintenance.

Finally, it was between 2. Josh took a peek at the Red Mom Ride (he did not like the body style of that one), and said NO immediately.

Can you tell we have a thing for the color gray?

my first ride

my "new" ride- a 2003 Chevy Venture

I have joined the clan. If you see me at school, give me the special two horn salute to welcome me to the group.

Oh, and cleaning five years worth of goldfish crackers and french fries out of my Santa Fe was no joke!

I Deserve This.

I was sitting across a picnic table from her; my age was six or possibly seven.

I cannot remember the conversation.
I visualize the pop-up trailers in the background, and smell the smoke from a campfire.
Recalling her name or the exact location is pretty fuzzy.

Some details are as vivid as they were that day, though. Her hair was a beautiful brown, shoulder length. It was parted down the middle. I can still see the wind grab hold of it and how it danced across her face.

A joke was told, and the group gathered around the table erupted. She was laughing the longest and hardest of all. Scanning her face, I can still see the small lines around her eyes, the spray of freckles on her cheeks.

I stopped dead when I reached her mouth.

In all sincerity, I asked her "Do you know you have a big gap in your two front teeth?"

Tact. Rather, my lack of it.

I can give you a hundred examples, the same as the first.

The time I informed the lady at McDonalds she had a giant mole on her chin. Speech Day in grade school, where I foolishly told a friend that she was the only one receiving a white ribbon. As of this day, I am not sure I have been forgiven for that one.

You see, my mom could not get me to keep my mouth shut. In all sincerity, I wasn't doing it to be mean. That might seem hard to believe, but I legitimately thought they did not know.

Today, we decided to visit Klackles Orchard.

Among other activities, you can ride in a wonderful Enchanted Pumpkin Cart that is pulled behind a tractor. Guiding you past the sprawling pumpkin patch, and into the middle of the apple orchard where you can pick a peck to bring home for apple crisp.

Upon getting back into the cart, the tractor driver peeked into our Pumpkin Carriage and gave the final instruction that we would need to latch the gate before we took off.

As he was turning to walk away, Kayden said "Mom, that guy with the red shirt has really yellow teeth."

Would it be tacky for me to wish he had a hearing problem as well?

My mom, sitting across from me, had a difficult time composing herself. I knew what she was thinking: I deserve this.

A few pictures from today:

Priceless.

Josh is on a road trip, purchasing something that I can honestly not put a price on.

He has to go two separate places to fulfill the order.

It is a specialized thing, you see.

I searched in earnest all afternoon online, just in case there were any Internet companies that had it available for purchase.

I feel awful I waited so long to act on it.

My son certainly shouldn't have had to endure a month without it.



Parasite Medicine.



Giardia has hit the Bird family full force this past month. On top of all the back to school activities and busyness this time of year brings, we have had a never ending stream of bathroom breaks.

Kayden started with it the first full day of school, and it just kept rolling through Bryce then Josh and now me.

It has been so long since we have been normal, I honestly don't remember a time when Bryce didn't need to be changed 7 or 10 times a day.

Josh had it this past weekend, and lasted for two days.

I am sitting at a week and a half, but mine is getting worse by the day.

I am so thankful, almost giddy to be honest, that my husband is rounding up the Flagyl so we can be on our merry way to recovery.


In the meantime, I am seriously reconsidering this post. I might just have to go back to my original sentiment that camping deserves to be loathed. Even in the most beautiful motor home ever created.

After tonight's purchases, we have officially spent more on Flagyl than we did an entire weekend camping.

But honestly, I am just so happy relief is coming! And soon! Yipppee!