I have lots of moneys

Samantha has been begging to go out for ice cream.  She even specifically ate all her ice cream at home so that she could say, "Welp, we are out of ice cream.  That means we have to go buy some." And by "buy some" she does not mean buying some from the grocery store.  Only dairy queen or cherry on top will do.  It may or may not have something to do with the fact that the last time we went to Dairy Queen, she did not get any because of a class-A scream fest she demonstrated in the car. 

Anyway, I made a chore-chart and money value chart, and we'll see how this goes.  We're still working on setting the table and putting her clothes away (chores that are required and do not earn money) but maybe this way she'll learn some value of money and hard work.  Except that she gets a KICK out of helping and using the spray bottles til her hand can squeeze no more.  Oh well, only time will tell!

Need to buy a jet dry mop to add one more chore...

There is a second page with "book" "big toy" and "nail polish"

Teaching Patience to Teens

        We had our ultrasound on a Wednesday at noon.  Since we have most of our family in town, in an effort to avoid a competition of "who knew first" and to have a little fun with Samantha, we decided to keep the gender a secret until we told family on Thursday evening.  Which meant that I wouldn't tell my students until Friday.
       

opening the present

Pink means a sister!

SO excited, although she knew it from day 1

  And to be even more evil, I refused to tell them until 8th period.  Why?  Because poor 8th period never got any surprises.  By the time they walk in, they know everything that is going to happen in class.  When I announced my first pregnancy, they all knew.  When I announced the second word spread before 2nd period even started.  So this time I made sure THEY got to spread the news.

Amanda is responsible for the "sextuplets" guess

    
And although I hated not telling family and friends for a whole 36 hours, I loooooved lording it over my students that I knew and they didn't.  We had fun and I got to promote the culture of life at the same time.  Win-Win!

Too many cooks

When Jeremy and I first got married, one of the tension points was what we were going to cook for dinner.  This is because I had entered our union with the idea that this would be my area and I would have a husband who swooned over my cooking, just like everyone else had while I was in highschool and college.  I had all of my recipies handed down from my grandma and mom.  We were given a recipe book filled with favorite recipies from friends and family.  I. was. set.

Then two things happened over and over.
1) I was cooking too much so we had a lot of left overs.
2) Jeremy never ate ANY leftovers and was constantly trying to correct my cooking.

I remember breaking down into tears as we went through recipe books.  He didn't like ANY of the recipies I had in my stash.  I labeled him a 'picky eater'.  I fumed.  I was hurt.  This was not turning out how I'd imagined.

When Jeremy cooked, it was different.  He made things without mixing them.  By that I mean, there were no casseroles.  I thought it odd, but soon realized that his chicken was so moist and succulent that it didn't need gravy-- a totally new concept for me.  He introduced me to green beans (previously I had to gag them down while they were burried in mashed potatoes sandwhiched in a dinner roll).  Soon I realized that I had it all wrong- Jeremy liked to cook and was *gag* better than me.  Why was I making such a big deal out of this fact? 

After Samantha was born and I was on my no dairy/soy/beef/chocolate/tomato diet, being in the kitchen brought me to tears. 

And so Jeremy's uncontested reign of the kitchen began.

Over the years his cooking has become legendary.  All of my family loves to eat his food.  Plus he's teaching everyone how to cook.  Meat is cooked without drying it out.  Canned vegetables with cheese have been replaced with fresh cooked in olive oil.  We haven't bought a can of "cream of _____" in over 5 years because of a thing called a "rue".  He carefully saves his bacon grease to use as flavoring for his hashbrowns and soups.  And he does this every day after he comes home from work.

Now, before you get to jealous and think I'm so spoiled that I no longer merit the title "Mom", he's had to learn a few things too- such as planning ahead.  One simply cannot have dinner ready before bed-time when one comes home and tries to thaw out a frozen chicken at 5pm.  And as much as Samantha and I love his chicken, it's nice to have variety too :) 

So where am I going with this?  Well, there are two areas that I still maintain in the kitchen.  Baking is the first. I've been on the hunt for the perfect chocolate chip cookie (who knew, it had it's own website all along).  Jeremy does swoon over my cookies.  Baking is simply not something he can do as he struggles with scoffs at things like recipies and measuring devices.  And so my reign of the baking remains.

 The second area is scrambled eggs.  I currently hold the crown for scrambled eggs.  All I use is eggs and cheese.  That's it.  And what's even funnier is that Jeremy is the one who taught me how to tell when eggs are cooked right.  It's just that his knowledge is all theory and what he's watched Alton Brown do.  He has yet been able to make them without a puddle of liquid sitting below them.  He gets so frustrated and I just smile. 

I smile because it's not a cooking issue, it's a listening issue.

Week 1 attempt:
Jeremy: How do you make the eggs?  Just eggs and cheese and put the pan on high?
Me: No, I just make sure the pan is hot.  And I don't stir them.  I just let them sit like an omelete and scramble them right before I take them off.

Sam calls me to come eat "dinner" (breakfast is just too hard to say)
As we sit down he sets the plate of eggs down with a frown and grumble.  The eggs are swimming in their juices.

Jeremy:  I did it just like you told me.  Get the pan as hot as possible and let them cook through.
Me: No, I said until it's hot.  I use medium heat.
Jeremy: grumble grumble. 

Week 2 attempt
Sam calls me to come eat dinner.
We all sit down and Jeremy sets the plate of eggs down with a frown and grumble. The eggs are swimming in their juices.

Jeremy: I just don't understand it.  I did it just like you said you do it. 
Me: and how is that?
Jeremy:  Eggs and cheese.  Lots of cheese, nothing else.  And get the pan as blazing hot as possible.


And so lives my reign for the best scrammbled eggs in the family.  My guess is it will be a long one. 

Where to begin...

Ug, it's been so long and so much has happened I almost don't even want to catch up.  But then my annual mother's day gift came- my blog book.  It's getting thinner and thinner, but each year I go through it and can't believe how much life has changed in two years (it's roughly 2 years behind).  So, for prosperity's sake, I'm going to just jot down the highlights from the past 2 months and then try to keep up from there.  Because honestly, time is going by so fast.  And as much as I tell myself "Oh, I'll remember this", I don't.  And reading my blog-books helps me to remember this.
So here we go.


The new little one
I've told this story so many times that I know I won't ever forget, but it's still worth sharing.  After we lost Baby Eddie in October Samantha would randomly (and often) talk about the baby not being in my belly anymore.  "There isn't a baby in your tummy anymore, right mommy?," she'd ask solemnly.  Then one day (a week before Jeremy's birthday) she switched and told me, "Mommy, you have a baby in your tummy, right?!"  I'd gently remind her that no, I didn't anymore, that the baby died and went to heaven.  She'd insist, but eventually walk off with a shrug as if to say, "Whatever mom, you obviously don't know anything."

 She did this a few times. 

Then, on Jeremy's birthday I decided to take the last test at home.  I'm not sure why, as the chances of there being a pregnancy were very slim, but part of me was curious, as I hasn't been keeping track of my cycle (first time since we've been married).  Why?  Well, my body was still returning to not being pregnant, we were going to start trying again the next cycle and it still stung a little that I had to return to the routine since I was suppose to be pregnant still.

Anyway, the test came back positive and my heart started racing.  Jeremy had no idea that I was testing, so I was upstairs alone while reality started to sink in.  The first coherent thought that went through my head was "How did Samantha know?!?".

 I immediately made a mental note to ask Sam later how many were in there and the gender, since she obviously had a connection somewhere.  The second was, "When in the world did this happen?"  Like I said, the opportunities had been very slim.

So I pranced downstairs and made Jeremy his b-day card.  On the inside was the outline of Samantha's hand holding up a peace sign (so 2).  On the outside is said, "Roses are red, violets are blue, in October you'll be a father of __________(Sam's hand)"  We quietly celebrated, not wanting to tell Samantha yet.  When we finally did tell her, she insisted that it was a sister.  And that her name was Priscilla.  We believed her on the gender, not so much on the name. 

When time came for the ultrasound I was convinced that we were having a boy.  So much so that when it came to the ultrasound, if I hadn't seen the very distinct lady parts myself, I wouldn't have believed her.  It took a good 24 hours before I was able to change my view of the future.  Don't get me wrong, I was actually relieved that we were having another girl.  But I had just convinced myself otherwise, so it took a while getting use to the idea of two girls! 

Oh yeah, we're having a girl!  She was going to be Felicity, but since we already have a Samantha, I was very hesitant.  Every time I told someone our age that we were thinking of the name we'd get the same response, "OH!  I LOVE Felicity! *pause* Wait...Samantha and Felicity?  Did you read a lot of the American Girl books growing up?"  So Felicity will be on hold for the next girl.  This one is going to be Charlotte  (middle name to be decided).

The first words out of my mouth at the ultrasound were "Oh no, Papa is not going to be happy!"
My poor father.  Don't get me wrong, he LOVES his girls (each of us has a #.  My mom is B1 (Beautiful #1), I'm B2, Amanda is B3, Lucy is B4 etc...) but girls vastly outnumber the boys both on his side of the family and in his immediate descendants. Fifteen neices and seven nephews.  Three daughters, one son.  This fall there will be four grand-daugthers, and one grandson.   He just wants less dolls and pink at this point! 

I told him not to worry, the next one will be a boy.  Jeremy puts in "orders" and usually gets what he wants (me, Sam and this one), so he told me his next order will be for a boy.

Hm...this post has turned into a lot longer than I'd originally intended.   I'll have to continue with how I tortured my students, Sam's antics, a big-brother for Sam and her fourth birthday later...