No T.V. land

Right after this picture, someone skipped someone, cards were thrown and lollipop guy is scarred for life.

Silence is Golden

Well except for when I need to make an appointment or answer the phone....

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I woke up on Wednesday mute. Not even a crack in my voice. Gone. The first thing that erupted in my mind was How in the hell am I going to yell at my kids? But then I remembered when I lost my voice as a teacher, I managed 30 some odd kids and they all listened and we didn't burn the building down so surely I could do it with three???

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So being mute for some reason has effected my ability to write. I don't know, maybe it's because I'm quiet and my mouth is directly connected to my brain? or fingers? Maybe all this peace and quiet has made me a normal, functional person and that leaves me with nothing to talk about. Maybe I'm so exhausted from having to listen to everyone all day since I can't tell them to shut up that I can't fathom the idea of interacting with more people even if it is just blogging or facebook?

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Finally on Friday after perfecting my scary whisper-yell, I thought I could manage a Target run. Yeah, I know it's some sort of masochistic sickness. But you know what, we had a wonderful trip. Really, it was like I rented some kids and was in a parallel universe where the moms don't yell and the kids don't throw stuff, scream, or fight. And I even threw another ball into the pit, because my big boy Martin is no longer in diapers. So I was willing to bet my second born child ;) that he would have pooped on the floor or at least peed on someone. Nope. We all managed our bodily fluids like all-stars! I'm guessing since I couldn't run my mouth very much, the kids paid attention, that and when I DID parted my lips the voice of Zuul from Ghostbusters came out. Scary.


Oh but we couldn't leave Target without at least one head tilting event. My children we being angels in the produce section and some nice old lady wanted to squeeze their cheeks, of course. Now usually, I step in and guide my kids through a polite conversation and you know try to steer the pinching fingers away from the frightening children. Well I couldn't this time. Allie got ahead of me and I couldn't shout, "HEY, get your cheesy smelling hands off my kid!!!" So I did the second best thing and smiled while I drove our basket to rescue Allie. The lady in the meantime is asking Allie a question that apparently she didn't feel like answering because she was too busy picking bananas for us. She asked a few more times and since I couldn't get Allie's attention without pssst-ing, clapping or slamming my hand against my leg (I save the dog calls for home use only) I just smiled. What else could I do? So get this, the lady, looks straight at me, with Allie now in arms reach and says, "Oh yeah, she probably doesn't speak English." gah....!!!!!!*eyes popping out, jaw dropping* It's amazing what people will tell you when you don't stop them.

I mustered up all the voice I had managed to save that day and wasted it on three very clear words (well in my Zuul voice). "YES SHE DOES!" Those three words have set me back two days. Still no voice.

I'm filing this moment with the "Are you the nanny?" one.

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You tell them baby!! We've got a special kind of English for comments like that!!!

Doing something really wrong?

Well I wasn't going to post today, but this one must be told...

I've gotta be messing up somewhere... I walked out of my room after having nursed and put the baby down, when I noticed that Martin was naked. Yeah, that's not the bad part...wait for it. Since it's not to uncommon for Martin to be naked, I didn't say anything. Allie and Martin were playing kitchen in her room... at first glance all seemed well aside from the airing out of little bits. Then upon closer scrutiny, I noticed Martin's diapers and wipes were strewn across the floor. Yup, he's still in diapers. Keep the comments to a whisper so I can't hear them. I heard the words, "Momma" and "Baby" somewhere there in the play talk, so I took a deep breath and asked, "Where's Martin's diaper?"

Why ask, you say? Well my gut instinct told me to walk away and pretend I didn't see anything. I could have enjoyed two kids playing and the baby asleep, but then I snapped out of it and realized that if indeed something was up, I should deal with it immediately, before I got all comfy doing something relaxing like laundry or cleaning. I would just have lost my mind later when I would have slipped on spilled water from kitchen play (did that later in the afternoon) or found half eaten peaches in the sofa ( did that later in the morning).

So I asked, and Allie answered, "He just got poo poo." CRAP!! Yes, again!!! More crap!! I looked frantically around the room for the poop, in hopes that the 5 second rule works for turds too, if indeed it was a turd. I would be so lucky! If I could just get it off the ground soon enough then maybe it wouldn't transfer all the poopy germs to the carpet. I know... I know.. wishful thinking, but come on, I can't be the only mom that thinks like this. Ok, back to finding the poop... I bend Martin over to clean up and no evidence of any poop. Maybe, just maybe, they're still playing Mommy and Baby and she's just kidding about the poop. I walked into Martin's room and...nope they're not playing...I see the dirty diaper on the floor, but no poop. No poop on the floor. The next logical question to ask, "Well were is it, Allie?" So I'm walking around the house playing 'Where's Poop'. If only it were wearing a little red and white stripped shirt and hat, I could find it faster thank Waldo and rescue my carpet from saturation. "ALLIE, where is IT?" The two sweetest little faces look at me like I'm a two year old throwing a poop smearing fit and they just can't figure out why in the world I'm going crazy. "We flushed it in the potty, Momma!"

"Oh." I shut my mouth. Grabbed a clean diaper and put it on my two year old.
"Ok."
"...and Allie, next time Martin has poop, please let mommy change him."

Yes, ma'am. I'm the mom who so negligent that she let's her three (almost four) year old change her two year old brother's poopy diaper.


*On second thought, maybe I'm doing something right?!
**Do I get a prize for using the word 'poop' in a post more times than any post in the history of blogging?

You asked...

Many, MANY people have asked me, "How's it with three kids?" And this is the moment, where I have to decide if I'm going to be the everything-is-perfect-I-can-handle-it-and-lie-out-my-arse-mom, OR the tell-it-like-it-is-scare-the-crap-out-of-you-mom. Both make people a little uncomfortable but, eh, that's what I'm here for. So, to be honest, it's hard. With help??? Still hard. Milk spraying, poop dripping, tear staining HARD! First six weeks were the hardest but it's getting easier. And I make sure to tell the horror stricken moms of two and pregnant with their third that it WOULD have been easier if I had planned my babies... any of them... even if I had just planned ONE of them and spaced it out so that at least the oldest was in school by now... it would have been easier. A little. But now that I'm coming off the first part of this ride, that magical thing is starting to happen where I forget how hard it is. I hear myself starting to say that it's not so bad. So, before I turn into it's-all-so-easy-I-did-it-why-can't-you, mom I thought I'd jot down my survival tips for a newborn, toddler and preschooler.

1. Don't sleep. Yup that right, just don't because then you'll want more and it ain't gonna happen, so don't get your hopes up. (yes, I said it just like that, run-on style, in my head)

2. Get all the help you can beg, borrow, steal, or pay for. My family (read: MOM) has been great. I know she's tired and worn to the bone, but I shamefully still ask for help because I know if I can survive these first couple of months with her help, I'll treat her to something very special. Aaaaand I'll be wiping her butt when she's too old. Love ya mom!

3. Find something to look forward to in the middle of the night. This goes back to the no sleeping thing. I remember being frustrated with the first two because I couldn't sleep at night. Then, I remembered a friend telling me that she read while she pumped. (Pumping sucks!! Sorry, I just gotta throw that in there whenever the moment allows) Now, this won't work with a first-time mom nursing, because you've seriously gotta focus. I know it seems simple to those of you who haven't shared your chi chis but really, boob in mouth=lots of focus. Anyway, I picked up a few cheesy, easy reads (ahem, the Twilight series) that I'd jump out of bed to read while nursing.

4. And my last tip... Get through the day. That's it... just get through it. Not it the sense that you rush and don't enjoy your babies, but get through the day, like survive!! If you guys don't bathe, get out of your pajamas, eat healthy food or see the sun that day, it's ok. There's always tomorrow... or next month. Just make sure everyone eats something and piddle around (not piddle like in the potty; piddle like, mess around without doing anything. Watch you preschooler for tips on how to piddle around). Sometimes I have a hard time slowing down and making life simple but this is exactly what we need with a new baby in house.

Time to kill

"Let's just kill some time at Target.", I said. "I have a few things to pick up and the kids can check out the toys." I thought... "It'll give us something to do..." phfffffft!!!!!



Get to Target. Not so bad. Benjamin didn't cry the whole way.



Put my wrap on, pop Benito in. Allie and Martin hold are holding onto the basket as I cruise into the store like a mom who's got her sh*t together.



Automatic doors part, and ahhhhh the cool sanctuary of Starbucks, gadgets, toys and shopping!



Allie sees the food court. Eyes bug. Martin chimes in. "I hungry."



No problem. I've got this. Walk up to the counter. Order two organic mac 'n cheese meals for the kids with milk and applesauce. Done. Mom of the year!



Scratch that. They're out of milk and applesauce. Icee and cookies. What was the point of the "organic" mac n' cheese, then, you ask. I have no clue.



Grab the napkins and straws. Notice that the lady next to me is staring, mouth open in the direction of my kids. Martin is standing on the stool. Allie is sitting on the table.



Damn it.



Stay cool. "Hey you guys, sit in your chairs, please." "Mommy, is coming with lunch." (Why I talk in third person to my kids, I have NO idea. Really, someone please tell me why I do this, because I try to stop, since I sound like an idiot. But I just can't....Mommy says. )



This lady is taking f.o.r.e.v.e.r. to heat up the mac 'n cheese. Really how long can that take?



Ok. I underestimated.



Got the grub and the kids are kinda sitting and eating. I'm bribing them with the cookie. Am I an idiot. Really? What's the point of bribing them to eat MAC N CHEESE, and with a cookie? Is one really better than the other? Oh, well they do have the Icee to balance it out! gah. Whatever. Martin eats and I give him the cookie. Allie doesn't eat so I stick with my threat and don't give her the cookie and we're off to shop.



Benjamin starts to fuss a bit, so I start the mommy rock. While walking. Yeah you can see it now can't you. I'm pushing a basket and with every step I throw in two extra bounces. Step, bounce, bounce, push. Step, bounce, bounce, push. Cute.



Allie decides she wants to eat now. Throw her in the basket. Step, bounce, bounce, push....urgh puuuush. Step...



Martin is so into his cookie (or carb coma) that he runs into a display and drops the dang thing! Holy hell, the world just ended. Calm him down.



Some, probably very nice, Target employee sees Martin crying over the cookie and says, "Aw daddy, you're breakin' my heart." Yes. Nice man. Who apparently doesn't have kids and therefore doesn't know that you absolutely DO NOT talk to a kid in the middle of a tantrum. Never. Ever.



Go Directly to Jail! Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200.



Calm him down again. Give him Allie's cookie. Promise Allie a bigger cookie, ONLY if she eats her cheesy blob.



Race through isles and throw shit in the basket. May or may not be on my list.



Head for the toys to let the kids play like I promised. Ahh we're safe.



Kids play. Push buttons. Dinosaur roars. Every one's happy.



2 seconds later... Benjamin is not happy.



Ok. This is a grrreat opportunity for me to practice nursing in public, standing up, while watching a two and three year old, discreetly. (ha, yeah it was hard to even get through typing that). No problem. I have my wrap to cover me a bit, the big dinosaur is distracting the kids and Benito is big enough to not suffocate in my bosoms now.



Hey, I'm doing it. Not so bad. Except for the little teeny bopper couple who thinks it's cute to hang out in the toys while flirtting like a bunch of peacocks in heat.



Move to the next isle. They follow. Move back. Follow. Move two over, leaving my kids behind. They freakin' follow. WTH?? Are they playing chase? Think about just pulling Benjamin off and scaring the hell out of them! Go back for my kids.


For the LOVE of all things holy... what in the world is that? Did my... what the... yes....dammit, my dress just broke. How does that even happen?? Oh yeah, I know. Could it be because the little turds following me around to catch a glimpse of my chi chis, forced me to toss around my little Benito like a high school cheerleader which in turn pushed my poor, little, already really stressed out, spaghetti straps to their limit? Stupid kids.

Tuck, tie and hide the strap the best I can while still nursing Benjamin. Hope my other two are still in the store. Good. Giganto dino is still amusing them. Well that and that nice old man.

Oh God no. For the love of all sane mothers... please tell me that Allie's not holding herself. "Mom... I gotta go to the potty."

"Of course you do, honey."

Pop boob back into to broken dress. Pry two year old away from toy dinosaur. Screaming. Crying. Bring toy dinosaur. Run to the front of the store with basket, baby half way in the wrap, two year old crying while dragging dinosaur, and three year old hopping and holding.

We make it.

Standing in the bathroom nursing Benjamin. Martin is playing on the floor with the dinosaur. (I know some of you are saying.... Crisa, you're not supposed to take unpurchased items into the restroom. Yeah, well I'm also not supposed to feed my baby where people poop or let my kids play on the floor of a public restroom... shit happens. No, really I mean in this case... shit happens)

Come on, Allie. Let's be quick. Dangit, I should have never hoped, thought, wished for that. Today is obviously let's-laugh-at-Crisa day.

Excuse me... Sorry... Pardon me... No we're not waiting... REALLY???? Did everyone in Target have to come use the bathroom at THIS VERY MOMENT. What does it matter now? I've already flashed my boob to at least four people. (In case you're counting, 1 and 2 were the teeny boppers and 3 and 4 were the old man and his kid in the dinosaur isle) Martin's probably already eaten germs off the floor that haven't even been discovered yet and God only knows what Allie's doing in that stall that's taking so long.

Grab kids. Wash hand. Get OUT of the bathroom.

Go back to the toys. Drop off the dinosaur. Martin throws a fit. Toss him in the basket. Head over to the grocery section for a few more things on my list that I lost.

Toss more crap in the basket. Miss Martin. Wait... what's that? Dear lord in heaven above, you didn't bless us with a Texas thunderstorm, did you? Yes, yes you did. And yes, it's so loud I can hear it in the middle of the store with a two year old screaming in my ear.

Start chanting my new mantra. Well not new, borrowed. (I'm reading Eat, Pray Love right now)

Yes We Can! (Step, bounce, bounce, push...)
Yes We Can! (Step, bounce, bounce, push...)
Yes We Can! (Step, bounce, bounce, push...)

I make it to check out.

I'm making taking a stand. If those idiots are going to put all that sweet, yummy, colorful crap, at a three year old's eye level and within arms reach, then I'm not going to flinch when I put the open bag of M&Ms back on the shelf. There I said it and yes I did.

Pack up all our... well I don't even know what's in my bags but we packed it all up and head for the car.

Rain washes off cookie, mac n' cheese, bathroom nasties and candy.

Kids are asleep.

All is right in the world, again.

Dear Lord,

Please send down the toy angel...she does exist, doesn't she? because I've been using her in my most recent threats... sorry, anyway, can you send her down to come and take ALL of these freakity franken' toys!!! Oh and then can you work some of your God-mojo and make my kids completely happy playing with something small and simple like... oh a duster... ooo or a cleaning rag??

Thanks,

Crisa

Allie November 2005

"Let's talk birth control"

Ahhh the six week follow up visit to the midwife. The sole purpose of this visit is to make sure everything found it's way back to it's orginal place even though we all know it's a little bigger, looser and still angry. This is not one of my favorite visits due to all the extra "prep" work needed for said exam. It does rank pretty high on Hubby's list... what? maybe second, we'll say. Right behind the "It's a boy OR It's not a boy" visit. So, when we were still waiting an hour later, I swear he was going to boost me up on the stirups and do the exam himself. Thank god she came in time, because I was going to have to explain to Hubby that some things you can't just tinker with and figure out... you need training!!!

Now, the last time I saw this lady our casual greeting was her hand up my hoo haa gown while she pretended to read her notes on "How not to make a vaginal exam uncomfortable" on the ceiling. I brace myself. Dear lord... you'd think it would be easier after birthing an almost 8 pound baby?!?! Nope. But I pass with flying colors and just when I think that we've overcome our barriers of all things embarrassing (really what could be left? I was just naked from the waist down with all of my glory within inches of this lady's face???) she asked the question that took me back to 10th grade!

"So what about birth control?"

Talk about an awkward conversation. I'm sitting there in my paper gown with my midwife, husband and the most recent product of our well planned out birth control method in my arms (the other two were at their Mimi's).
I'm stuttering, "Um....um...." Thank god she's looking down at my file. Probably rechecking to see how many kids I have. 5?10?
"Well....um...um.." I desperately try to get Hubby's attention, but he's conveniently soothing the baby. I hear no crying! Well not that other people can hear too. Ass. She glances at him and then me again, waiting for an answer.

All I can mutter out is, "Well, we just signed up for cable."

That's right folks, you read it right. Cable!! We cancelled it almost 5 years ago in October of 2004. Allie was born August 2005. Do you need a calendar? I'll give you some time... Ok, so if logic serves me right, I should be able to sign up for cable again and not have any babies. Right? Well the midwife wasn't following. She laughed a little and then realized I was serious. She looks up at me with that You-Can't-Be-That-Stupid-So-I-Must-Be-On-Punk'ed look and now I'm blushing!!

Yeah, I'm 29 years old, married with three kids and I'm blushing! All the while my mind is jumbled up... Do I want more kids? Can I handle more kids? Do I believe in birth control? Do I want to swell up like an Oompa Loompa on the pill again? Why won't my husband get neutered? I don't want surgery. Do I? Time off??No, no... too permanent. Well what in the hell does that leave me with?

We both blurt out, "Condoms?!"

16. A pimple just surfaced on my face. Hubby is hiding in the corner shifting around like he's contemplating jumping out the window. She tries to make us feel a little more grown up and says, "Condoms are a perfectly reasonable solution. Even for married people."

Yup, the lowly condom is usually not sophisticated enough for married people, but I guess in our case, it's better than cable.

Alternative to naps #2

She's getting more creative, right? I mean last time it was just dress up. I think this is a dog house? I heard barking...

Threat #241 and #242

Electric shock

Eaten by T-Rex - Hubby was in trouble too!

My new favorite line for telemarketers...

I've got three kids. They're all screaming. Gotta go!

I have this thing, where I can't not answer the house phone if I can reach it. We don't have Caller ID for this very reason. It doesn't matter if I know who's calling or not, I can't just let it ring a bazillion times before the annoying answering machine picks up just to have to listen to a few more beeps and THEN the message. Nope it's quicker to just pick up the phone and turn 'em away before they can get full stride into their pitch. Most of the responses I'm getting from my new line are, "God bless you" or "Oh, I'm sorry". I get a few, "Oh, it'll just be..." and that's when I put the baby or the closest screaming child on the phone. That usually does it.

SCHOOL?!?!?

Well I caved and sent Allie to vacation bible school this week. She's been begging to go to school for about a year now and to be honest with you, I'm not too thrilled. I'm pretty anti-school, I guess if you had to call it something but that's a post for another day. Allie, however, wants to go to school so bad that she is trying to skip a whole year of her life so that she can start already. So, for my sanity's sake I enrolled her in a one week camp to see if she'd actually like "school" and so that she'd stop pestering me about it. Yeah, I didn't think that one through because all I'm going to hear next week is, "Momma do I go to school today?", "How about today?", "Today?" ahhhhhhhhhh I'm bracing for it.

If I Could be a Superhero...

I'm drawing up plans for my costume now.

Rubber girl. Reaching in the backseat to find a tut (pacifier) in the deepest crevice of a car seat and blindly poking it around until it finally lands in Benjamin's mouth. By the way, this is a lot harder to do when the car is stopped! Am I the only one that has babies that cry out in crippling pain every time the car stops moving??

Monkey toes. Yup, just what you're thinking - I pick stuff up with my toes. I'm really good at it and can pick up almost anything. I think I perfected this when I was pregnant, but it's been a lifesaver with a newborn too. Hubby has set limits, though, and has begged me not to pick up anything that will go in any one's mouth.

One-armed wonder. Benjamin is tiny and so new to this world that everything is strange, loud and scary to him. So he just wants to be near his chichis me. I don't really think I understood this as a new mom and it would frustrate me that Allie would cry so much, but now I get it. So, Mr. Benjamin is always on me and if he's not in a wrap, that means I only have only one arm available. This is a pretty common supermom talent though. They even have a cookbook just for and by a One-armed Wonder Mom! One-Armed Cook

Our new and improved threat...

Yeah we've tried:

"Don't make me count" (... to three which includes two and a half, two and three quarters....)

" Do you want to go sit in time out? (where you play with all sorts of crap because I don't follow through and watch you)

" I'm going to give away your (most prized childhood possession that'll surely scar you for life) if you don't...",

"Do you want me to call your Daddy?"(This one does work even though I said I'd never be one of those moms.)

"If you don't behave, no Mimi's/swimming/movie night . " (Even though these are usually more of a treat for me than you)

....Well you get the idea. We're gonna shake it up this week though.

Threat of the week: If you're not a good girl/boy, Mommy and Daddy are going to feed you to the sand monster!

Mooo

Yeah, I have a feeling that I'm going to have a whole series of photos titled, When Momma Was Nursing.

.... and YES I will be making her wipe her butt with this!! Waste not, want not - and she wants a LOT of things, so no wasting in this momma's house.

To save my marriage-

Ok so I'm sure it's just my raging hormones but Dear LORD!!!! if you could get a divorce on the internet, I'd be single right now. Instead of Goggling to check IF I really could, I'll just vent for a second and be on my married way.

Five Things I'm Hating Right Now:

• How the grown man in my house can make as much of a mess as the kids. Really?? Come on!!! Put a napkin or plate down before you butter your toast, put the dirty diaper in the trash, pick up your size 11 clog hoppers before someone hurts themselves and for my sanity's sake, please cover the damn food in the microwave!!

• How my deodorant only works on one of my armpits since I've had Benjamin! How insane is that? What's worse is the my three year old has told me that I stink. TWICE. I think I might need to go "clinical" with my hygiene products.

• Nap time. See picture below.

• Nursing bras. Well maybe it's the boobs I put in them that I'm not liking. Don't get wrong, I LOVE nursing, but people should not be smaller than what they are eating!!!

• How my dear husband glowers at me when I can't keep from shoving every single toxic but comfort food within a five mile radius into my mouth. It's like a cruel joke what nature does to our bodies after having a baby. When I desperately want to lose those last fifteen pounds from my pregnancy, my body seems to be possessed like the zombies from Night of the Living Dead, except my "brain food" seems to be chocolate and pasta!

My zombie picture frome 2007. Yeah my husband got in a lot of trouble for this one, but here I am sharing it anyway.

Naptime

Tongue tied??

maybe, but a fool he's not.

Recent doctor's visit-

Me: I'm concerned about M's tongue being tied. My husband had this as a child and I've noticed that M can't really stick his tongue out.

Doc: Ok let's take a look. He pulls out the fat Popsicle stick thing and starts poking around M's mouth.

M: aaargh

Doc: puts his index finger about 2 inches away from M's mouth. M, can you touch my finger with your tongue.

M: uuuhuh M takes the Doc's finger and pulls it to touch his tongue.

Doc: laughing his @ss off I think he'll be fine.

All dressed up for Daddy

I love how much she loves her Daddy.

It's Genetic

I'm absolutely convinced, now. This morning M, spilled some milk on the breakfast bench. I was running around doing my morning chores, so I tossed him a rag and said, "Clean, up." As I'm running back and forth, I see him cleaning it up, but then as I've got one foot in the laundry room, I see him turning the cushion over! Where in the world did he learn that from???

Please don't feel sorry for me

Please don't look at me like that. I knew what I was getting myself into when I got pregnant and still had two small children at home. Well maybe not AT the time, but like the midwife says, "If you're not, NOT trying then your trying."

To the moms at swim class:

Yes, I carried my almost two year-old, kicking and screaming, under my arm into my daughter's swim class while 7 months pregnant, BUT we were late and I do remember reading in some parent manual that the "football" hold is good for something??? Besides, when I did the math, these damn classes cost more than I'm willing to admit, so we were NOT going to be late.

To the little old lady at Randalls:

I really wasn't going to leave my child in the store. You see sometimes they don't listen and I'm too round to chase after them. Lord knows it'd be a chase too, because he was standing next to the candy with that little twinkle in his eye. You know the "let's play" twinkle. So I resorted to a threat and wouldn't you know he called my bluff. So what's a mom to do? I left the store and hid behind the pillar. Now stop shaking your head; the security guy was right there and watching us the whole time and if things got really ugly I would have sent my 3 year old after him. Now SHE'S fast!! After you left from being so disgusted with my parenting techniques, my son saw that I meant business and came running out looking for me. We talked ( in caveman-speak, of course) about how he needs to stay close to mommy, because it's dangerous if he gets lost. There were kisses and wiping of tears and lessons learned. Now I've just got to work on my 3 year-old's fear of abandonment.

To the man walking by my house and looking in the window:

I promise I'm not crazy. I know you usually see me running around with half naked kids and you probably think that the neighborhood is going to crap. We are good people. Promise. When you happened to look in the window I wasn't losing my mind. Cursing and yelling to myself, yes! but for a good reason. You see I was trying to wrap a freakin' guitar for my husband's birthday. It's the shape of the damn thing, because I swear I'm a good wrapper. And who in the hell designed tape so that as soon as you tear it off, it curls up and sticks to itself???? I had to try and un-stick it with one hand because I couldn't let go of the wrapping paper that was strategically placed in the one spot that would keep me from running out of paper and just wrapping the damn thing in foil. So you see, completely rational behavior. I'm okay now though, don't worry I got the thing wrapped and hidden in the car. I'm just going to tell hubby that the kids helped.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY !!