Please Vote, vote, Vote...and not just for president!

Ok everyone, I need your help. I am going to enter a writing contest and thought of using one of my past blogs. So I would LOVE it if you would vote on your favorite. I have posted below, a very long post of 5 different blogs to choose from. If you could vote in the poll I have created that would be great!!!! I have to submit my story by November 15th. So to give me time to proof it and clean it up my poll will be closing November 8th. And if you would PLEASE re-post this on your FaceBook, I am hoping for as many responses as possible. If you have a favorite that is not posted below, feel free to leave a comment on my FB, blog, or email me(jamielightner@yahoo.com) Thanks for your help! The poll is on the right side of my blog page. Hmmmm, why do I yell so much My Husband said to me the other day. I think you just need to relax a little. You get so frustrated in the mornings getting the kids on the bus, and you get so upset if they don’t get to bed on time. I think it would be a lot easier if you didn’t yell so much. Being the calm understanding person I am. Being one who doesn’t over personalize I was able to look at the situation and calmly say, “ya know what sweetheart you are right. I am a little overwhelmed and we really could take a look at these situations and see what would work for everyone. Maybe we could come up with some creative ideas to help speed the kids up. NOT! My REAL reaction was…”Duh, we ALL wish I would stop yelling, tell me something I don’t know. Tell me something I haven’t already told myself a million times. I mean I was just at June Cleaver’s(leave it to Beaver’s mom) house the other day, asking her how she does it. All I can say is where is June Cleaver’s 2 year old and her 4th kid at that. Ya know what I think would help. It would help if when I said calmly the 1st time “ok kids hurry up it’s time to go”, that they actually pick up their pace and get on task. No, instead we have to fill up the water bottles, which mind you were part of the after school routine to be done yesterday. Of course when I asked, “did you guys finish your routines” everyone's answer was “yes”. Hmmm. My mistake, I am sure they did all their jobs and one of their siblings is just trying to sabotage them. That is their argument. Ya, I am the irrational one. Or may be Timmy can’t find his shoes, Josh cant find his coat, cause heaven forbid we put them away when we take them off. And if it’s not that, it’s me playing referee in the bathroom cause Kate isn’t happy with the way Josh put the toothpaste away, or maybe his elbow touched hers while they were brushing. By now I have said FOUR times, that it is time to go, and yes, it isn’t so sweet this time. Finally I shove them out the door, dig out my sweet voice again to say “I love you guys have a good day.” Shut the door with a deep sigh thinking I will be sweeter this afternoon. The next few hours of my day consist of cleaning the Kitchen, laundry, sweeping, changing Bo, getting Bo out of my folded laundry, re fold, stop Bo from drawing on the walls, put Bo in time out, feed Bo lunch, clean Bo, and clean the kitchen again. Back to the laundry, clean my bathroom, get Bo out from under my bathroom sink, put everything back under the sink, stop Bo from flushing things down the toilet, put Bo in Time out. Change Bo, Bo doesn’t’ want to be changed, put him in time out till he’s ready, finally change him. Go pick up the kids. As I walk to the van I see the cat vomit in the cat bed that I told Mike about a week ago. Of course my multitasking mind digs out the argument with Mike about why I don’t want a pet. My case being I don’t need anything else to feed or clean up after. His argument is it will teach the kids responsibility, they will take care of the cat, just relax. I get to the school, forget to put Bo in the stroller. Grab a box of work from Kate’s teacher, (‘cause I am an awesome helping room mom). Now with my hands full I chase Bo through the hall ways. Finally, I pile the box on Kate and just carrying the wiggling child out the door. Get home, walk by the cat vomit again, roll my eyes, put stuff away, snack, now chores. Argue about why we have to do chores, argue about why they have so much work to do. Then I of course give my speech when I was a kid I had to vacuum the whole house “up hill both ways”, right! After they do there chores argue about why they aren’t done sufficiently. Do them again. Finally it’s TV time kids disappear. I take this time to prepare dinner, which, yes, is easier now that Bo actually watches a movie with the kids rather than cry at my ankles. So this works well and I begin to feel like I am on top of things again. Eat dinner, clean up after dinner. Argue with kids about why they have to help clean up the Kitchen. When their jobs are done, I send them up to bedtime routine, I finish the kitchen. Head upstairs, argue with Kate about why she is reading when she hasn’t brushed her teeth or picked up her clothes, argue with Bo about why it’s time for Bed. Put the boys to bed, finally put Kate to bed. Mike and Josh play video games till Josh’s bedtime. At 9 I remind them it’s time for bed. Ten min later I remind them again. I go finish up laundry. Five-min later I yell down the stairs that it is now 15 min after Bedtime. They come up, Josh is in Bed and I take a deep sigh and see what I must finish before I can crawl into bed and do nothing. Then off to sleep I go. Up at one, Timmy’s got to pee; up at 3 Kate had a Bad dream. Then the alarm rings a 6:55 and we start the day again… Yes, I need to find a way to stop yelling so much. It's a girl! No, a boy! No wait, it's a faucet fitting? Well today I was in Lowe’s and felt like a total girl. I guess considering the fact that I AM a girl there are worse things that have happened to me. Anyway I was already in Jackson so I stopped at Lowe’s to pick up some parts for Michael. I was looking for an outside water faucet and a fitting watchama call it, so Michael could fix our faucet that will not turn off. I spent the first 10 minutes wandering through the store before I finally asked somebody where they were. I was hoping to at LEAST find the “department” by myself. Nope. I was in isle 7 and the lady directed my to isle 34. I made my way over and found myself looking up and down isle 34 wondering if she had made a mistake. Finally, I found them. And when the girl arrived to help me I was just standing there staring at them not sure what to get. She then directed me to the bottom shelf, oh yeah; those looked much more like what I was looking for. So I then told her the line I had rehearsed on the phone with Michael before heading in. I said, “ I also need a fitting for ½ inch copper.” Her response was “Male or female”. Hmmmm. Ok I didn’t realize we had established a particular gender to water spicket fittings, but hey, I will roll with it. Not having any idea as to whether our copper was a girl or a boy, I gave Michael a call. Of course I am standing in an area with poor reception, so I had to keep repeating the line. “Is our copper male or female” “What”, I would hear him say. “Do I bring home a girl or a boy fitting”, I asked and then the call was dropped. The girl suggested I just take the “female” fitting just incase. and apparently the faucet I got was “male”. It said 10 inches on the label, but seeing how it is a “male” faucet, it is probably only 7. haha So either way I could make a match. As I made my way to the front I noticed I had a better signal, so I called Michael to give him the “match making update” Well, it turned out he needed a fitting that wasn’t male or female cause our copper piping didn’t have threads. So back to isle 34 I went. I found the “non-gender specific” section. I flagged down another worker to help me. He took me to the parts and said, “half inch IB or AD copper”. Well, to be honest those are probably not even the letters he said, I gave him a look that said “oh my gosh, my husband sent me in here for parts and I frankly I don’t know if I need boy, or girl, or what the heck part of the alphabet they come from.” He handed me the part he figured was it and I went back to the better service area to call Michael. I told him what I got and he sent me BACK for a shut off valve. Fortunately I found that without asking anyone for help. Whether or not it is the right gender or the LMNOP copper who knows, all I can say is “here ya go baby, hope it works for ya” haha I think I will go back to my old method of shopping at Lowe’s which is I walk in, find the department, and hand my phone to a worker and say, “here, can my husband talk to you.” Camping My husband was a camper as a kid right up until he married me. And even for the first year before kids and up to our second kid we camped a couple of times. I had never been camping as a kid and was fascinated by the idea! Well, now that we have 4 kids, one of whom is EXTREMELY busy, I am not so fond of the idea. Whenever he talks about camping I just look at him and say, “Honey, why would I go on “vacation” to work harder than I do at home.” My idea of vacation is going somewhere the beds are “pre-maid” and magically made for you every day while you are out. Not packing my own bedding and mattress and assembling them in a hut I can’t even stand up in when we get there. My idea of vacation is not taking a shower bag down the street to take a shower in a box that sprays luke warm water and my flip flops must remain on my feet at ALL times. Or having to stumble across the grassy way with a flashlight in my hand just to “tinkle” in the middle of the night where I have to line the toilet seat with toilet paper at 3 AM. Or escort my kids across the grassy way to the bathroom in the night. At home they handle all that themselves, I barley hear the toilet flush. Oh yes and while we are at it, as if dishes aren’t annoying enough to wash with electricity and hot water, lets wash them with out power in buckets just for “FUN”. So this past weekend when our extended family planned a “family” camping trip just 35 min from my house. Yup, you guessed it. Michael and our older 3 kids roughed it, while Bo and I went up during the day and came home to our bed at night. I put Bo in bed at 11pm and he woke up at 11am. I slept in a cool comfy bed in a room about 72 degrees, listening to the hummmm of my ceiling fan. Mike and the kids. Well, they were sleeping in a bed of sand, in a room of 82 degrees, listening to the hummmmmm of mosquitoes looking for a midnight snack. And from the looks of all of them when I arrived the next day, they were the buffet of choice. Bathrooms with Boys “Put the seat up before you pee! Then put it back down when you are done.” I said for the millionth time in my career as a mom. Boys and bathrooms, what an adventure. Often times over the years of raising boys I have walked into my bathroom and it smelled like a giant urinal. Now I’m not saying that I went for weeks without cleaning my bathroom and so it began to smell. Well, ya sure that did happen on occasion, and how often those occasions happened I am certainly not saying. Far to incriminating. But yes on the occasions that I just scrubbed my bathroom with bleach I would find 2 days later it would stink again. Well naturally I assumed that this is because my boys all came with their own personal squirt gun. And the problem is this squirt gun did not come with a scope. I have noticed the ability to aim is seriously limited. And it is crazy where the stream can end up at times. There have been times I have sat on the toilet seat only to feel a wet sensation on my cheeks. Now considering the fact that I don’t have a “bidet” my only hope is that a freshly showered kid sat on the seat with their freshly clean wet butt. But reflecting on the fact that just before I stepped into the bathroom I was just looking at my sweaty grubby outdoor kids thinking, “Eeeeew you need a shower” this was probably not the reason for the wet seat. So, now my mind wonders to all the times I see my boys aiming to high and hitting the back of the toilet seat before shifting things downward. So here I was sitting in little boy tinkle spatter. Yuck! After disinfecting myself, I then disinfect the seat, also noticing the puddle that has collected on the side of the toilet. I’m sure this isn’t helping the smell either. As I continue washing my hands I notice my trashcan has splatter running down the side of it. Now, I am sure there are many explanations for this. So I can’t just assume it is another aiming project gone awry. It could be opening up a pop can after it was dropped, um near the toilet? Or maybe it was a squirt gun fight in the bathroom. Now that is quite probable only I believe the water would have evaporated, not turned into a sticky, gross, gue running down the side of my trash can. Seriously, how do they get it everywhere? Well, some of my questions were answered one day while I was standing at my vanity doing my hair. My son at the age of 5 walked in fresh out of bed for the day and assumed the position. He was actually aiming pretty well, when mid stream he lifted his hands in the air and began stretching. His head now looking toward the ceiling and both arms are stretched out, leaving the stream to wander all over the place with every shift of his stretching body. “Timmy!” I exclaimed “Hang on to yourself, you have to aim.” I mean seriously he didn’t get the hands free model, those cost extra, and let’s face it kid’s are expensive enough. So this was definitely shedding some light on the “smelly” subject. Boys and their toys. Although I can’t say it’s worse than the day I walked in the bathroom to find Bo, my 2 year old at the time, brushing his teeth. Sounds like a great kid I know. Problem is he was dipping his toothbrush in the toilet to wet and rinse it. Eeeeewwwwww. I could see now that getting the boys to put the toilet seat up before they pee and then back down was the least of my worries. And the lesson we can learn from all this… Well, I have to say I wish I did NOT have blog material to write. Before I get into the current event, for those of you who are not aware of my being “directionally challenged”, I must preface this with I can get lost with a Garmin. If you would like a story on this subject refer to the blog http://jamielightner.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-am-so-directionally-challenged.html, Well, this evening Michael was taking Timmy to weigh-in for his wrestling tournament, and he offered to pick up one of Timmy’s wrestling buddies who was on the way and save some fellow parents a trip. So, before he left I told him how to get there. He questioned me, as if I had trouble with directions before, and I said to him, “I KNOW what I am talking about. I have been there. I am the taxi service around here ya know.” So with his fate in my hands he left. Meanwhile Jess and Jake stopped by for dinner so we could all hang out when Michael returned. About 15 minutes after Michael left, Jake found Michael’s phone on the couch. And about 30 minutes after that I received a call from a number I didn’t recognize only to hear Michael’s voice on the other end. He couldn’t find their house. At this time I am thinking, “seriously, it is not that hard, there are only about 5 houses on the whole street” This was odd to me because Michael is not one who gets lost, that is my role, so I just figured it was because it was dark out and he couldn’t see well. I told him I would call and have them flash their porch lights to signal him. About 20 minutes later our friends called me back saying there was still know sign of Michael. And all of a sudden I had this feeling that “Tucker” might not be the name of their road. “Oh no” I said “What is the name of your road?” I asked hoping to hear the word Tucker, knowing I wouldn’t. Sure enough I sent Michael to the wrong road and he was without his cell phone. Oh my gosh, my stomach just churned, how was I going to let Michael know he would NEVER find the right house on the road he was going up and down who knows how many times. And not to mention, I would never live this down. Our friend said he would go around the block and look for him and then just head in to weigh-ins before they closed, he thought Michael probably gave up and saw that he better get to Leslie also. Well, 10 minutes later I got a call from our friend’s wife. She informed me Michael was not on Tucker and she would let me know if her husband saw him in Leslie. Oh my gosh, I was feeling sooooo bad. I had sent my husband on a wild goose chase; sad thing is this wasn’t the first time. There had been many. One in particular I can remember was when Josh was 3 months old. He had a special $20 bottle that he had to use because he had trouble eating as a baby. I thought I left it at the Eaton Rapids football game, so freaking out about the 20-dollar bottle; I had Michael drive back into town to retrieve it. He had to jump the fence only to call me saying he couldn’t find it. “Are you sure you didn’t put it in the diaper bag.” He asked. “No, I AM sure.” I said as I went to double check, and THERE IT WAS! So today when I thought of my poor husband wandering a street I had sent him to, I just wanted to cry. I felt so helpless and guilty I just couldn’t sit there and wait, I looked at Jess and Jake and said I was going to look for him. I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. Thinking back, I wonder what I expected to accomplish. There was no way he stayed on that same road for another half an hour. But logic wasn’t winning in my head. I started my van, put it in reverse and backed up, until I heard that horrible sound of metal hitting metal. “oh no” I thought. ‘please tell me I did not just back into someone.” Ya see, backing into another vehicle is a sound I am unfortunately very familiar with. In the past ten years I have backed into my sister’s vehicle twice, my mom’s once and I also ran into someone’s mail box backing out of their driveway. So yeah, reverse is not my best direction. Michael says I need a bumper sticker that reads, “Do not park behind me, you WILL get hit.” Needless to say, I jumped out of my van and saw my sister’s beautiful red traverse behind me, which until now I had managed NOT to back into despite my reputation with her old car. And keep in mind; this was now the THIRD time I had backed into one of my sister’s vehicles. I didn’t even go to check the damages; I just started crying and went back in the house. I couldn’t even talk when I came back in the door. My family rushed to me asking over and over again “what’s wrong?” My sister said jokingly “What, did you hit my car?” Through my tears I just nodded my head. “Oh, I’m kidding” she said. My mom, picking up on the fact that I wasn’t kidding, she asked, “Did you hit her car?” Still sobbing I nodded again. “What, she is serious!” my sister said with laughter at the irony and yet panic in her voice. So I just sank into the floor crying. I sent my husband to a non-existent address, I crashed my sister’s car, and I still didn’t know where Michael was or when he would be home. I told everyone to go home, I just wanted to climb in my bed and shut down. Well, they stayed with me, of course, until Michael did return. He walked through the door and with tear stained cheeks I sheepishly looked at him. “Lucy” he said with his best “Ricky Ricardo” accent, “You have some splainin to do!” It was after this comment Jake(my brother-in-law), muttered under his breath. “he doesn’t know half the “splainin” she has to do.” So yeah, I “splained” everything to Michael. And fortunately the look he gave me was the one I see so often, and that is his loving accepting grin, with a headshake. That poor man I have put him through so much and yet he just couldn’t live without me. It was then that I informed him of the lesson we all could learn from today and that is “Don’t leave home without your cell phone.”