Daylight Saving Time--my regular rant, just two months late

Morning at our house the week after Daylight Saving Time:
5:00- I roll my sorry self out of bed to go for a swim because my knee refuses to heal. I am currently trying to convince myself that once I stop nursing Norah all my problems will be solved. Until then though I am trying to get in some sort of workout that won't hurt the dang knee.
6:45- I arrive home and Mike heads off to work. I have showered at the gym but my hair is wet, so I'm hoping to get it done before it's time to wake up the chinchillas until. . .
6:50--Norah starts crying. Ok. I'll feed you Norah. No screeching. I feed Norah. She uses her recently sharpened nails to pinch every part of me that she can reach. Ahh, the joys of breastfeeding.
7:00-- Ellie, who lives in the cupboard under the stairs, begins crying very loudly. She opens her door and stands in the doorway crying and yelling, "I need to go potty. I need to go potty."  I whisper-yell, "Ellie, it's okay. You can come upstairs. Come and go potty." She cries louder. "Ellie!" I yell, "Come and go potty!" Ellie cries louder. I stand up, still feeding Norah and precariously balance her and walk to the top of the stairs, "Ellie come upstairs. Don't cry. It's okay. You can go potty."  Mike and I have tried to tell her it's okay to just come upstairs and use the bathroom, but she still needs visual and audible confirmation that it's okay to come upstairs every morning. I'm not sure why this is, since when she is supposed to be napping or in time out she has no problem escaping from her room (which is not really a cupboard under the stairs. It is a real room with a window even.)
7:05--Ellie comes upstairs still crying. She is even more upset when I tell her to use the potty by herself while I finish feeding Norah. "No!" She cries. "I need help. I can't. I can't." (She can.)  I sit back down and try to armchair parent by using a convincing voice and saying, "Ellie, you can do it! Be a big girl. I'll give you a marshmallow!" Even my best primary voice is not working to convince her that she is a capable and competent potty-user. She comes in the room and hangs on my knees and cries and cries. Norah eats very slowly, turning her head every few swallows to check out the noisy being trying to grab her head.
7:15--I get fed up with Ellie crying and climbing on me and Norah, and set Norah down for a minute. Norah protests loudly, while I help Ellie use the bathroom. I grumpily set her on the toilet. She's already gone in her pull-up (curse you pull-ups. I will never succumb to your use in potty-training again.)
7:25-- I finish breastfeeding Norah, set her in the high chair with a pile of cheerios, and head down to Kenzie and Hannah's room to wake them up to get ready for school. Ellie follows me begging me to hold her and help her. I rub each girls back gently trying to wake them up. Kenzie responds to my, "How did you sleep last night?" With a tired but agreeable, "Good." She gets up and starts getting dressed. Hannah growls at me "UNNNNNGGGHH! UNGH!" and rolls over to face the wall.
"Hannah, let me help you choose your clothes. Let's get going though. Remember how you didn't get any breakfast yesterday because you laid around in bed? I'm making eggs, let hurry so you can have some."  (I usually stick with cold cereal in the mornings, but I've been trying to branch out.) She stays in her bed, peering over while I pull clothes out of her drawer. She poutily okays an outfit, but doesn't move from the bed. I cajole a little more, and then head upstairs to make breakfast and take care of Norah and Ellie. Hannah cries out, "NO MOM! Don't leave! STAY HERE! STAY HERE! STAY HERE!" She has become an accomplished yeller. I keep walking up the stairs. She cries hysterically.
7:35-- Kenzie is up and dressed, combing her hair. Hannah is nowhere in sight. I help Kenzie straighten her hair while Ellie clings to my legs, crying, "Help me get dressed. Help me. I can't find Snow White. Help me." I use all my powers of patience to not lock Ellie in her room. "Ellie," I say, "I can help you after Kenzie and Hannah go to school. Let's go get some breakfast."
"NO! no, no," she wails.  Norah has started fussing. I throw some more cheerios on her tray. A nutritious and well-balanced baby breakfast. Hannah continues to wail for me to come downstairs. I pour Ellie some cereal that she pushes away, "NO I DON'T WANT IT." I make Norah some rice cereal with applesauce.  Kenzie remembers that she is taking her lunch today. The eggs burn.
7:50- I call down the stairs as I try frantically to pick brown spots out of my scrambled eggs, "Hannah! I will send you to school in your pajamas. Please hurry." I am trying hard not to yell. I mostly succeed. Hannah screams up the stairs, "I AM GETTING DRESSED! DON'T TALK TO ME!" I hear her screetching in frustration.
7:55-- She waltzes up the stairs and comes over to the table to eat. "Go comb your hair first Hannah."
"MOM! I AM GOING TO EAT."
"No." I say firmly. "You know the routine. We comb our hair first. Would you like me to help you?" I am boiling at Hannah, but I figure if I erupt now Hannah doesn't get to school and my ultimate goal is to get her into her carpool and off to school.
"UNGGHH." says Hannah attractively.
I follow her into the bathroom anyway. Ellie follows me saying, "My turn. My turn!" She tries to stand on the stool next to Hannah. Hannah elbows her and pushes her off.
"Hannah! Stop."
"Ellie is bugging me!" This erupts into full-time pushing, shoving and crying. Hannah ends up in her room, hair undone (after I drag her there) until her carpool comes, Ellie ends up crying a lot and I end up eating eggs that are not only full of burned spots, but cold as well and my hair is frizzy because I never did get to do it.
That night everyone starts crying that they are too tired to brush their teeth.
Have I told you yet that I hate Daylight Saving Time? And Fall Daylight Saving is the "easy" one. Seriously congress, stop fighting about the dang fiscal cliff and fix this stupid Daylight Saving crap. 

Repurposing your ugly baby bath chair into an ugly Shampoo Carrier

Repurposing is all the rage--you know diaper boxes into cute bins, cereal boxes into chic magazine holders, toilet paper tubes into avant garde Christmas decorations, milk jugs into lingerie (I made that one up).
Pinterest (motto: Deflating your self-esteem one chic repurposing project at a time) has been making me feel guilty about all the stuff I actually throw away when I could really be using it to beautify my house, organize my life, and save the planet. Imagine my delight when I thought of this handy repurposing project: Bath chair to Shampoo Bottle Holder!
It's not very cute, but is it purposeful. Since my dang knee refuses to cooperate and heal, I am swimming 2-3 times a week, and I needed something to put my shampoo, conditioner (I like to call it cream rinse, but Mike makes fun of me when I do that), and soap in. We were getting ready to throw this baby away:



When the ghost of Cheapskate-ness visited me and I came up with this little design:

I am pretty sure I will soon see this picture all over Pinterest. It's super simple, just sew the bottom shut and you have your own little bit of awesomeness whenever you go swimming. The top part that previously supported my wee one's large head now works as a convenient hanger. It also folds over the bottles like a little envelope to keep them in place, not rolling all over my bag and shampooing things that should not be shampooed. And I can feel all sentimental and weepy everytime I wash my hair when I swim. Awwww.
Now if I could just think of something to use the metal frame for (picture hanger if I add some cute clothes pins? Cute wreath with the addition of large amounts of felt and hot glue?), we'd be in business.

Small Frustrations make me want to disable my ears

I just finished eating my lunch. It's 2 p.m. I started eating lunch at noon, but I swear my children are in some conspiracy to never allow me to sit down and eat again.
My lunch started out with a lovely piece of toast, cooked by my sweet and humming daughter Hannah. Hannah is now downstairs, kicking the wall. It makes me want to scream, but then I'd have to engage her and I've been losing all of my skirmishes and battles with my children lately, so I'm just going to pretend I don't hear that ANNOYING noise and that we didn't just spend months and months re-painting and decorating that room.
Anyway, lunch. It started on the front porch, with toast. No I don't usually eat on my front porch, and I'd love to finish sarcastically relating the harrowing events of my lunch, but the baby is crying. I used up my 20 minutes of free-from-children time eating. EATING. I was planning to blow off a little steam by blogging, but now I'm off to feed the baby. Should I tie Hannah's legs up first, or let her be?

Coping by Buying Socks in Bulk

I am currently overwhelmed. For some reason Norah has decided to grow up. This is very unfortunate, since my plans for taking care of four children always involved her staying little and sleeping a lot. She's so uncooperative. Today she insisted on being fed at breakfast, lunch and dinner.
I'm trying to think of ways to simplify so I can fit feeding myself into my schedule. Because I miss eating.
Ideas:
1. Buy 275 pairs of white socks for each child. This way I never have to match tiny socks or pretend that tiny socks match when they really don't. Why 275? Because, silly, during the summer you don't need socks.
2. Never leave home again.
3. Give up showers.
4. Return to cold cereal as a staple dinnertime food.

I always drown a little when I'm trying to incorporate a new baby into our family. It doesn't matter how many times I've done it before (or how cute and excellent the baby is). It's still hard.
The End

Summer is OVER. GOOD RIDDANCE.

The photo evidence from this summer points to a good time had by all.  Lest someday my harried daughter says to me, "Mom, how did you do it?" And I reply smiling wistfully, "You should cherish every moment. They grow up so quickly. We just did what we did and had a good time." --I am hereby recording the true events of this summer.

My Summer Vacation
by Stephanie C.

This summer we spent much of our time in Fightville, a picturesque little town known for its town motto of "She's _________________(fill in the blank with a verb) me."  We got some bruises and a few scratches and hair pulls as we explored the rocky shores of the beaches there.

One day, after the whole family took a community course on YELLING LOUDLY, we all went to our separate rooms and sulked. I might have been heard to say, "This is the worst summer ever." Out loud.

Another day, we visited Fightville's famous Cry Me A River shop where we found all sorts of things to cry about. We visited this shop often.

Fightville also offered side excursions to famous and ever-enjoyable Whineville and Teaseville. Sometimes on our side excursions I looked out the window and saw a sign that pointed to Lost-Your-Mind-ville, but in some strange time-space warp we were already there at the same time we were in Fightville.

The Fightville community center also offered classes in Talking Back (or how to pick a fight about everything from combing your hair to eating an ice cream cone), and Throwing Fits That Will Make Your Parents Wish to be Prisoners in Guantanamo Bay.  They also offered a special class for mothers in Extreme Guilt. I attended that class daily.

We bought souvenir t-shirts that read, "My heart belongs to Fightville." So we can always remember the good time we had there. THE END

Sometimes I pretend to myself that I would like to home school. BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Where can I sign up for year-round school. With no breaks. Ever.?

Okay. It wasn't all that bad. Here's the photo evidence to the contrary. And really, when it comes down to it, I guess I don't want to remember what it was really like. I do, in fact, hope to one day look down the long corridor of years and smile with misty forgetfulness about how wonderful raising children was. So here's some pictures of the things I hope to really remember:

Norah's blessing

Ellie's Bday

The Royal Race

Playing out front after dinner

The Ogden Nature Center

Fourth of July parade

Backyard water slide

Swimming with cousins

The zoo

Swimming with more cousins

Playing with neighbors

The Spudman

Bear Lake

Cutest baby ever

"The moon"

Happy Back to School!

Pictures of the Top Bunk Bed Tent and Paltry Instructions

I'm sorry this is less of a how-to build a top bunk bed tent because I didn't build it, Mike did. I constructed the bottom bunk bed tent ("How to Make a Bottom Bunkbed Tent"). I've been bugging him to do a post about how he built this thing, but he's been busy saving the world and rubbing my feet. So here's what I've got; mostly just some pictures that will hopefully help you if you're interested in building your own top bunk bed tent.

There are five cross-bars that attach to the middle bar, made of PVC. The top and bottom of the bed (lengthwise) are open, to let air and light in. The fabric is duck canvas, but any fabric without too much stretch should work. I don't know, maybe stretchy fabric would be awesome (or more awesome). We wanted it to be pretty heavy-duty though, in case someone decided to try and lean on it.  

Another view of the top of the tent. The dimensions were based on how high our ceiling was above the bunkbed. And we gave it the shape of the top half of an octagon (is that an A-frame?) because we have a fan in the room that would have hit it otherwise. 

Yet another view. 

We attached the fabric to the PVC pipe with heavy-duty snaps. We also reinforced the fabric where we attached the snaps with pellon (fusible interfacing, or for those of you, who like me had no idea, it's thick stuff you can iron on to your fabric to make it more stiff and sturdy.) Mike sewed on ties at eight points--one in each corner and two more on each side. 

Here's a picture of the snaps unsnapped. In the top right corner is a little window that I cut out and sewed, after we took the very top picture. 

The door way was the hardest, Mike said. This is where the ladder comes up. I don't even know how to explain it (I'm sorry). He sewed the fabric so it made a pocket for the pole. The gauzy fabric in the top picture is a "door" that I sewed on later because my daughter wanted to be able to close the door. We chose the see-through stuff because we didn't want to block out all the light.  

I sewed some little pockets on the inside so she could store her things. She also liked to put things in the fold of the fabric on the sides. I say "liked", because since little Norah was born, we've had to switch things up a bit and the bunkbed tent resides in pieces in our garage. :(

Hopefully this will give you some more ideas on how to build your own. Good luck! Feel free to leave a comment, with your email address, if you have any questions and I will respond as best I can. Also, if you make one I'd love to see it, so send me pictures! 

5 Things I Irrationally Hate

I am all about being irrational. Because logic is far too difficult to wrap my mother-adled brain around.

1. Honey--Oh sure it has nutritional value and is all-natural and delicious, but has anyone ever found a good way to store it? Or get it out of the storage jar? I will wipe off the table, sit down to enjoy a good book and find my elbows sticking to the table. And my shorts sticking to the chair. Arggh. Sticky everywhere.
2. Rice Krispies--Little tiny devils that when soaked in milk and allowed to dry become impossible to clean off the floor. The other morning Ellie, otherwise known as the Messiest Eater in the West, had a bowl of these which she managed to spill all over the table. When I came out from feeding Norah, tiny, wet Rice Krispies were scattered across the whole table. In an attempt to stop them from permanently bonding to my table I tried to wipe them up. They clung and shifted worse than my dress on a hot summer day. It took forever to wipe them up, and they hadn't even performed their superglue feat yet.
3. Joannes-- I already feel extreme stress when I enter this fabric/craft store. I want to sob every time I approach the fabric cutting counter, "No! I don't know how many yards I need. Just sell me the whole bolt." But I am far too cheap for that. Then after I stand in line, sweating about how many yards I need to finish some nursery curtains that I am never going to sew, I have to stand in line again to purchase this fabric. The second line is always at least 20 minutes long and winds through a slot canyon of candy and other junk that I continually tell my children not to touch and no I will not buy them the wooden frog they have always wanted.
4. Plastic Step stools- Specially designed to trip you or scratch your poor feet and legs, especially when wielded by a toddler.

Well, I guess that's it. I have a lot of things that I rationally hate, like war, disease, and broccoli, but I can only think of four irrational things right now. I'll have to add to the list later.