December challenge.

This is the time of year we really start to think about what we want for Christmas. My kids don't know what they want because there are no commercials here to tell them what they "need". Little by little they see things in the store and decide what they are going to ask Santa to leave under the tree. But this isn't really about my kids... it's about me. And you.

When I was a kid I wanted everything. My list to Santa looked like a purchase order for Toys R Us. As I got a little older, I wanted things like video games and the good art supplies (I'll still take some of these, please). But now, Barbies, stuffed animals and crayons have been replaced by things like covered serving dishes and a muffin carrier. (OMG I seriously want it.) A Body Sculpting Bar with a $10 rebate. Swarozski crystal. Rainboots. (Okay, so that one is an all age thing, I just never had any real use for them before Italy.) But really, I just want to feel apreciated.

The point is this. We grow up, we grow out of some of those phases we went through earlier in life and that's good... because the truth is... now we get to play with our kids' stuff. (I can't WAIT to open Sophie's kitchen playset.) Maybe the thing is that we can buy ourselves what we want throughout the year and so there is nothing we don't have by the time Christmas rolls around... Or maybe it's just the fact that it really isn't important to recieve anymore... because we finally "get" the whole "giving is better" part of Christmas.

I know the best thing about giving is seeing the joy that comes from being thought of. Truthfully, it's been quite some time since I've gotten gifts from someone other than family. I think it's time we step out and choose one person we wouldn't typically give a gift to and give. Something small. Something wrapped. Something thoughful. The month of December I challenge you to give SOMEone SOMEthing special. The bus driver. The store clerk. The girl who makes your coffee. The gate guard, military folks. This is the time of year that we ought to be ashamed for not thinking of others,.. and since it just won't do to be ashamed... get out there and do something special. I would bet it'll be something that person you chose to bless will remember for a long long time.

It's a challenge, but it's something I bet YOU will remember, too. And let me know how it goes. I'm curious. Merry Christmas, everyone.

Vacation: Part 1

Okay. So my in-laws flew in from Arkansas and brought wth them my freshly 11 year old daughter. They're back home, now, so all of my writing will be in retrospect. (Retro, fyi, means behind in Italian. Go figure.)

Now that you know that much, I must inform you that I will be picking out stories in somewhat of an orderly fashion to tell you. It just wouldn't be prudent to attempt to tell you all about it in one fail swoop. So in this edition, I will introduce you to my family and my father-in-law's newfound addiction to gelato.

My mother-in-law, Becky, is a very awesome lady... if somewhat (extremely) unfit for Italian driving. My father-in-law, Bill, is always right on point (which helps out in "where did we park the car" type situations) and has discovered the many joys of gelato and the many letdowns of Italian coffee.

I'll bypass most of the mundane and skip right over to things like the MP hitting a garbage can and staying 2 days in a "rustic cabin" where you walked to the bathroom and took cold showers. Yes.

On this trip, we went to Pisa, Rome, Vatican City and Venice. All of which are awesome, all of which I have more pictures than necessary of. (A total of 1500+, just so you know.)

First, we drove from Aviano to Pisa, Camp Darby to be exact. I should've know something was bound to be, well, normal (for us) when Lady Garmin decided she was going to "recalculate" for half the trip. I pulled up Google Maps and she decided - for fear of replacement - to get us to our destination. Only thing is, the GPS coordinates they posted on the website for Sea Pines take you to the middle of the autostrada with no exit for 5km on either side and she says "arriving at destination on left". Guh-reat. After detouring hopefully yet fruitlessly (unless you count the grapes we could've picked with the windows rolled down) down a 2 lane road made for mopeds and skinny folk, we finally got back on track and found our destination was actually 2 km past one seriouly wrong turn. Go figure. Keep this scenario in mind. Copy and paste it into subsequent blogs in this series. It's a pretty consistant thing.

So after turning a 4 hour drive into a... 5 1/2 hour search... we decide to head over to check out the tower. Yes, the famous leaning tower. Lady Garmin gets us there (hallelujah) and you can just feel the excitement building. Everyone is looking around waiting for the sight of postcards to breach our view and then we see it...

"Is THAT it? I thought it'd be taller." "Yes... that's it, I mean, it's the leaning tower of Pisa." "Are you sure? Maybe there's two..." "Uh, yeah... because they built the second on to confuse tourists." Much like the lasagna... the Tower was a disappointment to my lovely mother in law.

But all in all, we were impressed with the cathedrals and museums surrounding the tower. Nooooot so much by the bright yellow crane blocking the cliche photograph of holding up the tower. Stupid yellow crane. But we did get pics... albeit not great ones... Hey, are YOURS any better???

I will say, however, that Pisa had the best spaghetti I've had yet. I mean, the butter sage was good, but I'm not a fan of eyeballs, so that automatically loses points. I'll take this tomato basil spaghetti any day. See... now I feel all drooly...

Cheap souveniers and a flooded shower later, we're all in bed preparing for our next adventure... Driving in Rome. Yes, that's right... I said driving. Screw the autobahn... Rome is where you earn the t-shirt. And I've driven both. And survived. But that's a blog for tomorrow. Trust me... it's MUCH more eventful that this one.

Babysitting

"Miss Tori, you're only 28?"
"Yes, I just turned 28."
"Wow. You look more like you're 30. No offense."
"Uhm, okay..."

I think I answered, skirted or dodged more questions and not so veiled insults in two days than I have in two months. This tends to happen when you watch other peoples' children.

Day 1:

Kids get in my car. "Your car smells funny. Not, like, terrible... just, like, bad." Oh-kay.
So we go to the park. "After the park we can go to the BX and..." "...Get Cinnabon?!?!" "...nooooo.... uhm, pick up..." "aw, but I love Cinnabon..." "No Cinnabon." "Well I'm hungry. I want Cinnabon." "No Cinnabon."
We roam the BX and Commissary for the items we came for (paper and snacks) and during this time I swear 40 fragrances were sprayed on 20 items and brought to my nose for sampling. Gah. I couldn't breathe.
Piano at 11. Yes.
So then we go home.
"I'm starving." "We're going home for lunch." "What are we going to have... I don't want to have to eat fruit again." "uhm... well, the fruit was a snack, a snack that I feed my kids." "I want candy." "No candy before lunch." "But I waaaaant caaaaandy..." "No candy before lunch."
On the way home, one asks "do you have a big back yard?" I say "No, we don't have a back yard" and proceed to explain how in our neighborhood one person's home is the boundary for another's yard and the rock and concrete fences create little enclosures in which we all live separate little lives. So she looks out the window: "Yuh-huh, you do have a back yard!" Uhm, yes, kid, we have grass behind our house... but unless you wanna jump out that there 2nd story window or climb out the tiny hole in the cellar, you aren't getting out there without learning to talk to the guy in Italian.
"Are all your neighbors American?" "Nope... we don't live in housing... we live on the economy, which means our neighbors are Italian." "Why aren't your neighbors American?" Duhno, kid. Might have something to do with the fact we live in Italy.
"You need to clean your house." Thanks for that tidbit, kiddo. Like I don't have, oh, 7 hours a day slated for that very thing.
She looks in the fridge, sees spaghetti that I purposely left in there til umidi day because I have no desire to smell what a 100 degree Italian day will do to it in a paper bag. She reaches in my fridge and brings it to me... "Here. You need to throw this out." "I have my reasons for leaving that in there at the moment." "Well, now you can get rid of it. You're welcome." Ugh.
"Are your kids adopted?" "Nope." "Are you adopted?" "Nope... my parents are stuck with me through natural causes." "Why does Katy have another dad? And is he the one who abuses her? And why does she go see him if he abuses her?" Clearly I need to have a talk with my daughter about running her mouth for attention and telling folks about my past... "And why did you get married before? You shouldn't be allowed to marry somebody and then marry somebody else." Uhm... this coming from a kid whose dad has other kids from a previous marriage, too. Hmm.
But at the end of the day, they wanted to come back. They like me, apparently.

So Day 2:

It's raining, so no park in the morning. They get in the car. "Your car still stinks." Thanks. Good morning to you, too.
"Do you guys want pancakes and eggs for breakfast?" "Ooh... I like cheese in my eggs!" "I can put cheese in your eggs." "I know how to do it! I'm going to cook them myself." "Thanks, you can help me, but I'd prefer to do the cooking." "But I can do it. I know how. I'm going o do it."
"Did you clean your house?" "Nope." "You should've cleaned your house." "I'm the only one who EVER cleans my house and seeing as how I have 4 kids to entertain... I didn't WANT to clean my house." "Oh, okay."
We get home. I send the kids in the living room to pick a movie. They pick Balto 2. Good for them. By the time they decide, I have pancakes done and eggs cooking. I tell them come to the kitchen, sit down and eat breakfast. "But we wanna watch Balto." "You can watch Balto... after you eat." "I'm gonna take mine into the living room and watch Balto." "No you're not." "Well I don't wanna eat if I can't watch Balto." "I can say no tv." "Okay, okay... I'll eat."
She sees the eggs cooking. (In a horrified and bossy tone:) "You're supposed to put the cheese in BEFORE you cook the eggs! Don't you know ANYthing??" "Well... I've made a lot of cheese eggs in my 28 years, and in my experience, this is the best way to make them." "Miss Tori, you're 28? You look more like you're 30. No offense." *sigh*

You get the point. I'm thinking perhaps going past breakfast on day 2 would be a bit of overkill. But I will tell you that when she made her LAST house cleaning comment, I looked at her, pointed to all the stuff SHE had left on my floor and on my table, and told her that it is because of THIS behavior that my house will not stay clean. If she would like for my house to be clean, the LEAST she could do would be to pick up after herself. Well, she didn't, but her closing comment was this: "Oh, well, we have a maid and she does a REALLY good job." Things are making more sense. At least I had no more of her suggestions on the subject.

They really are decent kids... I just don't know how I feel about having to bite my tongue. Anyway. The kids both wanted to come back next week... so I suppose my house was clean enough... and my tongue bitten in all the right spots.

Chocolate Cheerios

My couch has had just about anything and everything you could possibly imagine dropped in it, on it, saturated through it... I am, you see, a mother of a child or three.



I just love the self feeding stage. It means less requirement of the parent to hold spoon to mouth and be completely relied upon for the giving of nourishment. It also means you need to invest in a dang good vacuum cleaner. Mine is specifically for "pets and children". I always found that humourous... now I just find it fantastic. That thing sucks up rocks, pasta and hot dogs like nothing I've ever seen!!



This morning I gave Sophie Cheerios in her high chair while she watched whatever kids show about building words was on AFN Family... I am, after all, all for the educational benefits of tv with breakfast... This seems like a simple enough thing, no? Well, yes, I would have thought so, too. She decided she wanted down, she was done, so I (foolishly) believed this must be so and removed the restraints. Sophers cleaned off her tray and then proceeded to find the box, pull the bag out of the box and swing it above her head at frightening speeds. Cheerios sound pretty neat when flying around that fast... kinda like when you used to put playing cards in your bicycle tires. I suppose thats all part of the appeal.



I'm pretty sure there was only a half a box of Chocolate Cheerios in the box to start with, so she must have found a way to clone what was in the box or is really good at spreading them across the floor in such a way as to optically increase their numbers. Either way, I'm down a box of cereal, but up one happy baby girl.



So now she's hanging out on the couch, a Cheerio stuck to her chin, another to her thigh, a few hangin' out on the diaper... picking up one stray circle at a time popping it into her mouth and occasionally sharing a soggy, prechewed one with mommy. (My little philanthropist.)



Sometimes I wonder if she's in cahoots with the vacuum... there are days it eats better than the rest of us.

Air Conditioning.

It's hot. Like, devil strip sown to your drawers hot. And now, at the end of July (when the weatherman says the weather will start to take a cooler turn...) I have two Italian A/C guys upstairs drilling holes into my concrete house to put in air conditioning which may or may not trip my breaker on an hourly basis. Sigh.



The funny thing is, I did all this "hurry up and clean" crap so that they could walk unimpeded through the upstairs of my house (since I have had this unlucky streak of cleaning out closets with no Goodwill to bestow my wares upon) and they come in and push every last bit of anything that may have been in the floor (to include the 5 boxes of clothing, etc sitting in my upstairs foyer) over to anywhere that was previously, uh, not with stuff there. Oh, well.



At least they're here, right? I mean, 5 1/2 hours is at least still today and not, as is fairly typical, domani. Always domani...



So on the downside... if I can't use my washer and dryer simultaneously... what on earth makes anyone think I will be able to use, oh, two, three, however many units they decide to mount on my walls?? But I digress. Maybe I won't need to use the washer and dryer quite so often if everyone in the family isn't constantly weeping salt from their pores.



On the upside? Air. Glorious air. Conditioned air. Air conditioned to be cool. Yes. Now THAT, THAT is an upside. Who cares if they ARE up there drilling concrete dust into every room I just spent a week cleaning? (Well, I do... but thats not the point. It was rhetorical.)



And in less than 3 hours I ought to have a husband home who can take over the children while I nap for, oh, say, til morning... in an air conditioned bedroom.

What cleaning can teach you...

So I felt the motivation streamin through me this morning (or was it the Red Bull) and decided to finally get around to that messy pile of clothing hanging out upstairs in my bedroom. And then I decided it would be just GREAT to go through the clothes in my kids' room! Wow, man, what was I THINKING??

Well, here's what I learned. (And a few decisions that I made...)

I learned that clean clothes are no longer clean when they happen to be "folded" and placed in the floor... ANYwhere in the floor...

I learned that when I open my (second floor) bedroom window and there are lizards gunning to join the party... I should just deal with the stagnant air in the room. (Okay, so this has nothing to do with the clothing I went through... but I promise it IS relevant to my day.)

I learned that the dog peed... or maybe Sophie did... but only on one thing. *sigh* Stupid dog. Sophie woulda wet the entire bedroom.

I learned where a few pieces of cute outfits that Sophie has now outgrown were hiding.

I learned that my husband has way too many t-shirts that I wash a dozen times a year but have never in our married career seen him wear. Alright, so I already knew that... I was just totally reminded.

I learned where the bug I swatted the other day ended up.

I learned that I will never wear some underwear I've been keeping, even IF I were to be that cute, small and sexy again. I mean, I'm so over lacy thongs.

I learned that I have more jeans that DON'T fit than ones that do... I separated them by sizes and decided that if I don't fit into the next size down in a month, I am passing the smallest sized ones on to someone whose rump does them justice.

I learned that I have nowhere in my room to set a drink. Geez. We so need a bedroom suit.

Now, I think that's about all I learned in my own room... But it was interesting to see what my kids had hanging out in theirs.

I learned that Katy simply moved all her outgrown "favorite" clothes into Kenzie's closet instead of getting rid of them even though Kenz takes one look at them and sticks her tongue out and makes noises unflattering to a young lady.

I learned that there are, like, no panties in the panty drawer... they are all SOMEwhere else... your guess is probably right on par with mine.

I learned that even after nearly 2 months without feet in them, some shoes still have such an impact on the senses that they must be bagged by themselves and disposed of where they will not harm the wildlife.

I learned that the drawers vomiting clothing are totally capable of containing said clothing... but apparently its something only mom can accomplish.

I learned that when I tell my kid to bring down her dirty laundry... this clearly does not include the 4 dirty towels strewn across the middle of her room. Why?? Because they "aren't hers". Yes. Good logic. Now grab the towels.

I learned not to have Kenz go get the baby when she awakens from a nap. Baby cries. Me: "Why is she crying?" Kenz: "Because she wacked her head on the door" Me: "You mean YOU wacked her head on the door?" Kenz: "Yeah."

I also learned that after all is said and done, I have to come back downstairs and see that I still have a whole 'nother half a house. I've learned that sucks.

Oh, well. After frozen pizza, Kraft mac & cheese and two games of Candyland (which I've learned must be rigged) I have more work to do. Me and Mr. Vacuum are gonna go tackle all that open space in the kids' room.

Anyone want 4 boxes of clothes?

An Intro To Me...

My name is Tori. I turned 28 on Friday. I'm slowly marching towards old age. Just like the rest of you. (Whether you admit it or not.) :)

I have three kids. All girls. Yeah, I'll take your prayers... I mean, had I realized (and I mean REALLY realized) that preteen would show up with such a dominance... wow. Katy, my oldest, she will be 11 next month. It's okay, you can do the math... I'm so over it. Kenzie, my 7 year old, well, she's a bit of a nut. People call her a "character". That she is. That she is. Sophie, the newest addition to the family, is 13 months. She's also mommy's little home gym... which baffles me as to why I'm still carrying around these extra pounds! Well, I'm not REALLY baffled... I do likes the cookies... But I've been doing better lately and have really started to make an effort towards shaping myself back into the person I see before I browse pictures of me on the beach. I've lost 15 lbs this month. That's right, cheer me on!

My husband, Philip, he's in the Air Force. He's a mental health tech... which leads me to believe he has all the coping skills necessary to dealing with the 4 women in his household at his fingertips... ya know, mandatory training and all. Because of this decision of his to join up, re-up and serve til Uncle Sam disowns him, we are a military family. I happen to like this fact. It gives me pride and it gives me benefits.

We are living in Italy right now... if you start to follow me, you ought to know when that changes, as it will be pretty blog worthy. I'm just getting started on this overseas living thing... All I know is that no matter how pretty it is, I still can't use my washer and dryer at the same time. *sigh* It's one of those things I'm sure I'll expand on later. But we typically have clean underwear, so its all good. (Okay, so we always have clean underwear, but maybe not socks.)

I was born and raised in North Carolina... A nice place to grow up, but not one I plan on returning to for any length of time. Because of my upbringing, I speak with a little more of an accent than I like to admit and other folks from 'round those parts can pick me out of a crowd. It also means that I have a tinge of Southern hospitality running through my veins, but not enough to make me a worthy hostess. That's alright... it's the thought that counts, right?? And I THINK about entertaining, like, ALL the time. I prefer good manners, though I've come to realize that other parents aren't quite as concerned about instilling these in their own kids, and as tempted as I am to teach them myself (and do when my nerves get rubbed raw) , I just can't save the world, ya know? As a little bit of a turnabout on my roots, I am pretty irritated by bad grammar... though I tend to use it to get my point across sometimes... others just 'cause I wanna... so don't judge me, kay?

I found out that living with the assistance of God is SO much better than trying to do it on my own, I urge you to try it, but I promise that my typical thought process when typing a blog is not to overwhelm. I like to write about what comes to my mind, sometimes that just ain't Godly... theres that grammar... and so again... don't hate. :) I will, however, either very rarely or (hopefully) never utilize the potty mouth I perfected in my late teens/early twenties... you're welcome, hubby. (After all... I can't punish the kids for what they repeat from me, right?)

I'm pretty laid back, but I can be rather, uh, not laid back, too. I like the laid back me, so does most everyone else... but, sorry, folks, this alter ego is a superhero!

So I guess that's a pretty comprehensive overview of me... I mean, it's more than the guy doing surgery on you would write in your chart, so it much be just about all you need to know to get started! We'll see how this whole blogging thing goes... Welcome to my mind!!