Amberzzz Alert

So tonight I was working away, putting together a one hour class on everything you ever needed to know about every facet of food storage. (Yeah. That's what I thought too.) Anyway, I was typing and concentrating real hard, in order to get done in time to take my four thousand handouts over to the church to make one hundred thousand copies. The kids all did their chores today (miracle of miracles!) and we didn't even have to dress up. The ones who are not currently on restriction were therefore free to roam the area between the next door neighbors' driveways and their bedrooms. These boundaries are part of The Rules. This apparently was too much square mileage because they decided to move all the crap they have for entertainment out of the house and into the driveway. No, mom. We can't play babies in the playroom. (What is she thinking?) They also couldn't leave the books in the book corner or the blankets on their beds. Or anything at all in the garage. I did venture away from the computer twice to check on the size of the pile on the sidewalk and to make sure it was not spilling out into the street. I do this because I care about the HOA imposed covenants. Tee Hee. And because Santa ain't replacing every dumb thing that gets run over because it was left halfway in the street by careless children. Also to do the 15 minute head count (it's 15 seconds when we're out in public), but that was mostly unnecessary due to their trips to get more crap every 5 minutes. So just when I'm finishing up printing out handout 3-thousand-99, Little Mommy(8) says to me that The Pinkiest(5) is missing. Now, I'm not alarmed mind you, because one, I figure Little Mommy (who is on restriction) is really reporting that The Pinkiest(5) has wandered beyond the driveway boundaries and Little Mommy(8) is desperately hoping to get her sister into trouble too. And two, because if The Pinkiest(5) truly has turned up missing, I can safely assume she is next door, or across the street, or at Sister Teacher's house, or at Old Sister Teacher's house, or at Old Sister Teacher's Neighbor's house- trying to get a sugar fix. (She's on detox until Halloween.) So I gather up my handouts, get the baby, head downstairs and find Little Mommy(8) in the yard, beside herself calling The Pinkiest(5). Bubba(6) is also calling her and is riding up and down the street looking for her. Now I think she is hiding from them because she doesn't want to come in and it is starting to get dark. So I start looking. I walk up and down the street calling her name. Very loudly. (I could be a stage singer if I could only act. My voice is THAT LOUD.) But she is nowhere. Not only that, but every neighbor I know says they haven't seen her for a while. Old Teacher's Husband says, "Check in that van. It's been parked there in front of nothing for an hour and we've never seen it before. We're pretty sure it doesn't belong here." Sadly, I live in a neighborhood that is both too expensive for us to purchase a home (mid-300's) and also the ghetto where every nasty-white trash-scary-person lives. I would not be at all surprised if any one of them or their scary friends kidnapped one of my kids. I actually looked in every one of those van windows while still hollering her name- in spite of the fact that the driver was sitting in it at the wheel. No The Pinkiest(5). Or any other person bound and gagged- so that's good news. I start having a panic attack. I am yelling her name so loudly now, that people are coming out of their houses, jumping in their cars, and driving around to help with the search. After 12 of us looked frantically for another 15 minutes, my friend DramaLady called the cops, gave the description, and they were sending an officer to take the missing persons report. (Meanwhile I was cursing my d#*&@ cell phone. Why don't they have some sort of beeper thing you can push for when you misplace those things?) Then I sent Bubba(6) into the house to check the book corner because my kids often fall asleep in there. It's a cozy little space all their own with puppets and books and pillows and cushions and a beanbag chair. I was hoping that she would be in there. But nope, she wasn't.

She was in her bed with the blanket pulled over her head in such a way that it looked like a pile of blanket with no one under it, so deeply asleep that she couldn't be roused and had no idea that everyone in This State That I Live In had just been shouting her name for the last 25 minutes. She had to walk right past me to get in there but I was so engrossed with the food storage stuff that I did not notice her go in- (probably for another load of whatever items might have slipped through the cracks and not ended up out in the swap meet on the driveway-) and never come out again. Sound the alarm. Stand down. Thank the neighbors. Curl up and die. So embarrassing.

The silver lining is that I got to hear all the other mom's stories about when the same exact thing happened to them. This didn't make me feel any less stupid, mind you- but a little less guilty for troubling them. Amish at Heart's son actually fell asleep playing hide-and-seek. He was a really good hider. Oh the trauma! And to think that Husband missed the whole thing. AND, come to think of it, so did The Pinkiest(5).

Back in the Saddle Again

So the other day it accidentally came out that I had quit blogging. Obviously Husband is one of my more devoted readers since this came as a huge surprise to him. Anyway- I told him everything I was feeling- from the alien invasion, to the reaction to Charlotte, to somewhereelseat.blogspot.com. He was surprisingly understanding about it and took it much better than I had given him credit for. Of course he then proceeded with the line of reasoning that this backed up his earlier blog theories but I didn't let that bother me. I was so pleased at how supportive and amiable he was about it I didn't mind. TwinScrapper and I had discussed it and we decided that the invasion was probably over anyway so I decided to take up blogging again. I'm glad too because you know- I've missed it.

So- on the homefront-

This week we've had:
-Teacher2 inform me that while Husband and I may have known Bubba(6) since his conception, after less-than-careful observation of him for four days she believes that our School-Psychologist-Recommended Disciplinary action against him is unnacceptable and that if we do not do what SHE says, she will PERSONALLY UNDO THE CONSEQUENCE HE HAS CHOSEN. But I suppose that is for another blog. Maybe somewhereelseat.blogspot.com is going to com in handy after all.
-2 dentist appointments WITH NO CAVITIES!!!! (I had to document it with the caps lock on and everthing because I believe it very likely this may be the only time in LittleMommy's(8) life that it happens.)
-A well baby check for Babyloo who has officially been given a nickname. Now and for however long it seems appropriate Babyloo will be known as Muhloo(-). Maybe you're saying to yourself "how is that any different?". Trust me. It is.
-A physical for AberJaber. Prognosis is good I guess. After extensive testing by a medical assistant they can conclude that I am alive and need to pay them $10. The good news is that for that price, the appointment also included a Tetanus-Pertussus booster cocktail. Can I just say that when the nurse tells you your arm will only be sore for about a day, that's a D*%$ lie. "Day" my *$$.
-a biting incident (also LittleMommy(8). I guess 1 out of 2 aint bad). Wow. Even typing "aint" makes my skin crawl.
-The mommy suggestion that Monster Truck(2) is NOT on the Dark Side and that He and Mr.Yuke(3) had better use their light sabers to fight Darth Vader (who is the couch) together. "Yeah. Let's go, Jedi! (whack, whack) Let's kill my Father! (whack, whack) Who is that couch. (whack, whack) That couch is my father! And this makes NO sense." (whack, whack).
-The Great Toilet Seat Debaucle of '07. It's this that I've chosen to blog about this evening.

As you know, Mr. Yuke(3) is at the most entertaining stage of all the Little People around here at this time. Kid cracks me up constantly. Well, I suppose the Great Toilet Seat Debaucle started with Monster Truck(2). Or maybe The Pinkiest(5). It happened like this. The Pinkiest(5) is a bit obsessive. Her current obsession is tutus. They are her uniform for life outside of school. And she only makes that concession because it's too cold to stand at the busstop with bare legs at THAT TIME of the day. Monster Truck(2) picked up on this obsession and found it amusing. Now, whether to emmulate her or to make fun of her, I can't be sure (but my money is on the second one-), he decided that he would wear a tutu too. Only his would be the Elmo toilet seat that fits onto the big potty which we recently bought him to start potty training on soon. Since we have not used the seat for its intended purpose, he has adapted it for a tutu in the interim. The Pinkiest(5) puts on her uniform and starts dancing around and he runs and puts that toilet seat on and dances behind her. Brothers. Anyway, I've tried to stop the toilet ballet a number of times because one- I don't want this particular use of the toilet seat to continue once we employ it in less tidy duties (or should I say doodies?) and two- it's a tight fit around his middle and I've worried that one of these times he is going to get stuck. Well, Mr. Yuke(3) beat him to it. Yesterday, Mr. Yuke(4) came to me and said, "Mom, can you help me?" He had put that toilet seat around his neck. I have no idea how he did this. If you had seen it you would agree with me that he must have the mutant power to shrink and re-enlarge his own head or else maybe he has retractable ears- because no one could have gotten that thing on him. Or OFF. I said yes, I'd help him, but first I'd have to take a few pictures. I found a camera and he happily showed off his newly acquired neck-gear. But then it had to come off. I couldn't get it. Then Husband tried and he couldn't get it either. Then THE SHRIEKING started. If you know Mr. Yuke(3), you know which sound I mean, although for once it didn't make me mad because I felt really bad for the Little Toilet Head. LittleMommy(8) brought Husband some lotion and they slicked up his ears. I left the room for a minute and by the time I got back they had it off. Poor kid has bruised, scraped temples today though. And now I have to grapple a little with the mommy guilt that in Mr. Yuke's(3) moment of crisis I was already planning out scrapbook pages. ("Back in the Saddle Again"- I could frame the shot with a toilet seat.... Hmm. I'll have to buy some Elmo stickers.... Where is that camera?...)

What a week. I tell ya. I don't know how I've held all this stuff in. Ahhhhhhh.... (Cathartic sigh of relief.) It's good to be blogging again.