Little Notes to Myself Pt. 2

Dear Self,

Don't ever make cinnamon rolls again! Yes, it's true that Saturday was the very first time you've made them from scratch. And admittedly they weren't half bad and you really want to keep experimenting and trying to make them even better. But DON'T DO IT! It's simply too dangerous for you. Your family may tell you again that if you make them, they will eat them. DON'T LISTEN TO THEM! They're all filthy liars. (☺) Out of the 18, or so, that you make, 1 or 2 will be eaten by one of them. Leaving 16-17. Those 16-17 will evilly call out to YOU, tempting you and sorely trying your resolve. (You know you have no real resolve when it comes to gooey, warm sweetness. Even now, you're probably drooling like Homer Simpson just thinking about them.) And then you will end up eating 5 of them over the course of 3 days and will have to throw the rest away to save you from yourself. So, just trust me on this. DON'T MAKE THEM AGAIN!

Signed,
Me

Dear Self,

Just remember that you wanted a dog just as much as the kids. Remember that the next time he decides to poop in his kennel in the middle of the night for no apparent reason and then sit in it until you take him out in morning. Oh, and remember that dogicide isn't an option. (Okay, as if you would really do that. Just covering your bases for anyone who can't take a joke.)

Signed,
Me

Tomorrow...

Tomorrow, Peyton will be 4 years old. Being that he will be 4 years old, I really have no business calling him a baby, but I still do. And I most likely always will. It's my right as his mom. I did make him promise today that if I let him be 4 tomorrow, he must always stay 4 and always be my little boy and always suck on his finger while holding his blanket and always want to cuddle with me and always love me like he does now. He says he will. But I know he'll change his mind round about the time he turns 7 years old. Oh well. It's to be expected. ☺

I love him, his dad loves him, his brothers and sister love him and the rest of his family does too! I hope he has a very, very Happy Birthday tomorrow!

Early

I found out last week that Peyton will be starting preschool tomorrow, a week earlier than originally scheduled. There was a change in teachers and thus, a bit of a change in the schedule. I was excited to hear about it because he really needs something to do. (He's sick of being left behind when his "kids" (brothers & sister) go to school.) And then, I had the nerve to go and feel conflicted, too.

I'm excited. And I'm dreading it. I'm happy. And I'm sad. I'm looking forward to the "me" time. And I'm worried I won't know what to do with myself. It's silly. He's growing up and there's nothing I can do about. And so, I'm going to have to embrace it.

What The?!

Peyton was helping me take clothes out of the dryer (a big deal for me, the fact I allowed him to help really makes me feel like I'm growing). He pulled out a pair of red sweat pants that belong to Cameron, but he has a pair exactly like them. When he pulled them out he said, "hey, look! It's my pants". He then held them up to himself and a hilariously confused expression came across his face. He then said, "what the?! MOM!! My pants grew in the dryer and they're GIGANTIC!". It was so cute and funny, I didn't bother to correct him and let him know who they actually belong to.

He's Got My Back

Peyton's really into space and spaceships and flying in a spaceship to the moon and aliens that fly in spaceships, too. Oh, and zombies. He's really into zombies as well. He talks about those things all the time. He mainly talks to me because I'm around him the most, but he'll talk about them with anyone who crosses his path, too. He wants to play alien zombie when he's playing with his brothers or sister. He plays alien zombie when he's all alone. It's alien zombie all the time.

When he's imagining and playing, the scenario goes something like this: there are aliens flying in spaceships in space, heading toward the Earth. He flies up into space in his own spaceship to try to intercept them at the moon. They usually get past him because they're really determined. They really want to do what they're coming here to do. What is it they want to do? They want to destroy me. (Mom) Once they get here, zombies somehow arrive, too. At that point, it's an all out battle to destroy mom. Madness ensues. Horrific battles occur as the aliens and zombies try to destroy mom. I'm supposed to get/act really nervous at this point in the story and then he tells me not to worry. He's going to protect me and destroy all of them because he's good at fighting. Plus, he has a light saber that they don't stand a chance against. It's a given that he's going to win. Duh. So, when the Alien Zombie Apocalypse to Destroy Mom occurs, Peyton's got my back. I'm going to be just fine. Phew!

I Think I've Found a Solution

So, I've been trying the fish oil on my dog's food for a while now. And....meh. I haven't noticed much of an improvement. Other than his hair being a bit softer and his farts being stinkier. I've still been able to brush pounds and pounds of hair off him every other day. And the amount I vacuum up daily? Still totally terrible.

I've been feeling really anxious about it. I'm not a total clean freak, but my house is neat enough. It does have its fair share of clutter, believe me. What house with kids doesn't? (My "public" areas are the ones that look the best, by the way.) But, I would say that, in general, it's a clean house. It's just that I don't like things to be covered in dog hair and everything has seemed to be covered in it lately.

I've been getting desperate to find a better solution and today, I think I did. I found this brush today at Walmart. (Still having blogger issues and can't do a hyper link. I'm seriously considering a switch to Wordpress because of all the problems. I've been hearing good things about it.)

http://www.furgopet.com/

Anyway, this thing is amazing. I filled a grocery bag just about half full (literally and gagged the entire time) with the hair I brushed off of him. It's essentially like a razor. In fact, it reminded me of the kind of razor used on people. You know, the kind used when you have your hair textured and thinned. It worked just like that. It also pulled out the undercoat very, very, very well. The dog enjoyed it too. He seemed to be relieved to be getting rid of all the excess hair. The real test of its effectiveness will be checking the amount I'm able to vacuum up daily. If that decreases, I'll know that the brush is actually working. I'm crossing my fingers!

Interesting

I went to back to school night last night. I met Tyler and Avery's teachers and re-met Cameron's. (He had her for first grade. He was pretty darn ticked when he found out he would have her again. He thought a new and different teacher would be more exciting, fun and adventurous. It took almost the entire summer to make him see the benefits of not having to break in a new one. She already knows him. She knows his likes and dislikes, his habits and quirks. And more importantly, she already likes him. He finally heard the wisdom in my words and has decided having the same teacher twice won't be so bad.) This school year should prove to be a very interesting one. Tyler's teacher seems like she's going to be very on top of the turning in of class work and homework. That was a major problem for him last year. He would do the homework (and he must have been doing the class work as well because his teacher never complained about him not being on task) and I know he would because I would make him show me once he was done. I would then make him put it directly into his backpack and would ask him as soon as he got home if he had turned it in. But, it somehow magically, strangely, inexplicably was "never turned in". We couldn't ever find them at our house because, believe me, we searched everywhere. His teacher never had a clue where they could be either. He would always get extremely upset when missing assignment reports were sent home and swear on his life that he had, in fact, turned them in. He would get so upset every single time that there was no way he could have been acting. No kid is that good and can keep up the facade for that long. So, I actually really do believe that he WAS turning them in. But, that was last year. We've put it behind us and we're moving on.

Avery has a pair of teachers, who happen to be mother and daughter. I liked them and she seems to like them too. I think that they're going to be good for her. They were organized and that's a big plus in my book. (See previous paragraph. ☺) I'm looking forward to watching all of my children learn and grow and expand their minds this school year. (Peyton too! Preschool starts on September 27th. Only 32 more days!!!!!! Not that I'm counting down, or anything.)