God, Babies, and Santa, oh my!

On the way home from Lamaze this evening:

Garrett: When you and daddy were little kids, was I a baby in the hospital?

Me: No, when daddy and I were kids, there was no Garrett and no Laura.

Garrett: Then where was I?

Me: With God.

Garrett: But how did I get to YOU?

Seth: Mommy and I made you.

*Insert furious elbowing and glaring from me to my clearly insane husband*

Me: God decided after daddy and I got married that we needed a baby boy named Garrett.

Garrett: But why did I have to be in your tummy?

Me: That's just the way it works.

Garrett: But why couldn't you just have asked SANTA to tell God that you wanted a baby?

Me: Hmmm. That certainly would have been handy.

Garrett: (getting frustrated with the whole conversation) But we can SEE SANTA. We can't SEEEEEEE God. GOD DOESN'T EVEN HAVE LEGS.

*Turn up the radio to listen to new Bon Jovi CD*

Hello. My name is "Laziest Blogger Ever"

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it before...I'll be back! Lots of entertaining posts coming! Don't leave!

Anyway, it's just been busy around here. I haven't even had time to check other blogs in FOREVER.

I find my self wondering about my fellow bloggers...Has Lost A Sock sold her house yet? How is Frema's pregnancy going? What does Silly Hily think of Britney's latest peep show? Is Mrs. S's baby Zoe into everything? How is Everyday Superhero's pregnant tummy looking this week? Is Donna writing terrible things about me because I haven't been to her blog for a month? Is Shawna's baby sleeping all night? How many frogs has Erica's youngest brought in the house lately? How is Gigi? Amy W? Carrie? That Chick? SJ? Emma? Alissa? CPA mom? The other twenty of you that I try to keep up with?

Not much time to blog tonight, so I'll give you a quick little checklist of things my son did today to keep himself busy while I rocked his screaming 3 year old sister to sleep...

Hot dogs soaking in bathroom sink? Check.

Entire bottle of fish food in fish tank? Check.

Cat treats in fish tank? Check.

New package of pepperoni and cheese slices gone, never to be found? Check.

Trail of cat treats lined up from kitchen to living room? Check.

Bag of potting soil dumped on patio (to ride bikes through)? Check.

Four missing Hershey bars? Check.

Wet pasta and lima beans soaked in water, then dumped on my deck? Check.

One really exhausted, cranky, hot, pregnant, head-achy mama? CHECK. CHECK. CHECK.

I've been interviewed...I feel FAMOUS

Silly Hily did this interview on her blog a while back, and I wanted in on the fun. She sent me these great questions, and I have let them SIT in my inbox for a little over a month now.

But TODAY, since I am lacking in blog-worthy material, I thought I'd give it a shot. (Because really? Do you need to know the details of my new-found passion for steam-cleaning the carpet, or my daughter's love for worm-squishing, or how I let my son out in public today wearing a dress-up chef jacket, hat, and a purse? I think not.)

Be warned that I am suffering a serious case of Mommy Brain these days, so please forgive any really dumb answers.

1.) Let's get the serious one out of the way first so we can have some fun: Do you think NBC went overboard with the VA Tech "package" that the killer mailed them? I mean, do you think we really needed to see that sick human pointing a gun at us through our TV or newspaper?

First of all, I've waited so long that this is totally out of the media now. Second, I saw very little coverage because it's either CAILLOU AND DORA AND SESAME STREET ALL.DAY.LONG. around here, or I'm falling asleep in front of prime-time television.

That said, I DO think NBC went overboard, and it was in VERY poor taste. Hello, ratings stunt! But I almost can't blame them...they have to compete with the zillion cable news channels and their flashing and colorful "BREAKING NEWS" banners, fancy computer graphics, and that pounding music designed to scare the shit out of viewers who happen along to their station.

Sadly? I'm one of the millions who totally gets suckered in by the manufactured drama - or I USED to. When "Breaking News" with dramatic music consists of Alec Baldwin swearing at his daughter over the phone, or yet another Anna Nicole baby daddy confession, I wonder what they have left to pull out of their sleeves when there really IS breaking NEWS. They have cried wolf way too many times for me.

I think NBC was also assuming that they were giving the American public what we WANTED to see. Movies and televison get more violent all the time, because so many people are willing to accept it. We're used to it. We pay for it at the movie theater. We live it and see it every day. Maybe NBC just thinks that pictures of a guy pointing a gun at us are what it will take to get our attention...and what's scary, is maybe they were right.

But don't get me wrong...None of us needed to see that, and our children certainly didn't need to see that. I hope all of the standard news stations (CBS, NBC, ABC) realize what a mistake they made - they can leave the showboating and drama to the cable networks (or even better, in the TRASH, where it belongs).

2.) What will be your first alcoholic beverage that you treat yourself to after you give birth? (Nothing like changing the subject, huh?)

OOH! Strawberry margaritas for everyone! WHEEEE!

3.) I know this might be hard to answer now but do you think you will have another baby after his one, or do you think you will stay put with 3?

It seems that if we want to continue to pay our mortgage, eat food, and have the luxury of running water, three will be the final number.

I also feel really stretched thin trying to devote enough time to just two children, and I know three is going to be even more challenging.

Also, there is the little detail of how I love to be pregant, but want to curl up in a ball, cry, and take lots of anti-anxiety meds for about three months a year four years after I've given birth.

I secretly want to have one more. Shhhh. It's not going to happen. Really.

4.) If Seth came to you tomorrow and said you had to move to another city because of his job, which city would you hope he said? (I mean, other than Memphis to be close to me and Liz because well, that's a given.)

Sedona, Arizona. I just love the scenery and the laid-back lifestyle. Aaaaah.

Or I might go for that place in Vermont where the Ben and Jerry's factory is located. Mmmm. Ice cream tours every day, people.

5.) Do you think Katie Holmes is seriously as trapped and insecure and stupid and sad and pathetic as the media is making her out to be?

Yes, because I am a boring stay at home mom who wears sweatpants and no make-up all day and I need a little drama in my life. I pretty much believe what the tabloids tell me. It makes my life look better.

No, because isn't that just what the media DOES? Make everybody look as bad as possible? But for the record, Tom Cruise disgusts me and I think Katie should get out NOW.

Now, here's the deal if YOU want to be interviewed (be warned...it may take me a very long time to get to it because I'm lazy like that)...

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me." (If I don't have your email address already, either leave it in the comment or email me at [your e-mail address])

2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

The Great Escape

Oh, fine. A bunch of you asked for it, so here it is...

...The Story Of How My Children Could Have Been Abducted Or Run Over Because Their Negligent Mother Was Not Watching Them Like A Hawk.

A few weeks ago, I had a monstrously big cake week. Needing some time to work, I sent the kids out to play in the backyard, where I can watch them from the kitchen window.

About ten minutes later, Garrett comes running in yelling, "We got the car in, mom! The car is in the house!" (He has one of those big, battery powered Jeeps in the backyard, which is currently without a battery).

I yell, "Get that car OUT of the house! That is an outside toy. NOWWWWW!" Then I say, "Wait - is the car UPSTAIRS or DOWNSTAIRS?"

"It's downstairs!" Garrett replies.

I can't figure out how in the hell he got the car into the downstairs, because there is a child doorknob lock on the downstairs door, and to get into the backyard, you have to go through the fence, which is also locked. I'm stumped.

So, I call my husband, who is working in his office downstairs, and tell him to check the doorknob and fence locks.

Husband eventually figures out what happened. See if you can follow:

1. Garrett gets the lock off the fence.

2. G pushes his Jeep through the fence and up to the back door.

3. G realizes he can't get the downstairs door open...it's locked from the inside and out.

4. G comes back in the house, through the unlocked kitchen door, and goes downstairs.

5. G undoes the deadbolt on the downstairs door.

6. G goes back outside, through the now open fence, and opens the now unlocked downstairs door.

7. G pushes the car inside the house.

But the story is not over. About the time we're realizing just what has happened, Laura comes running, pink and sweaty, yelling, "Daddy! I have your truck keys!".

We open the garage to assess the damage.

While Garrett was attempting the Great Escape from the backyard, Laura had taken advantage of the open gate.

We found toys out in the front yard, handprints all over the truck, and the keypad to the garage was opened up.

They both got spankings after we explained that they could have gotten hit by a car ("But we didn't go in the ROAD, mom!"), or that someone could have taken them ("But that guy on the bike didn't take us!" - great...witnesses to my negligence).

Please understand that this ALL took place in the space of TEN MINUTES. And the scary part is, when I looked out the window to check on them every few minutes, I could always see or hear one of them. They obviously knew to "cover" for each other so that I wouldn't know what was going on.

Finally, to our question of "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING???", Garrett said, "I just wanted to get in the garage to get our bikes," and Laura replied that she "wanted that candy from Daddy's truck." (there was a candy bar wrapper on the floorboard)

Is anyone else seeing a 16 year old Garrett stealing our car from the garage, in order to drive a 15 year old Laura to the gas station for a candy fix?

Because I am.

Uh-oh.

Looks are deceiving...

Now THAT'S more like it...

Time to clean up my act, damn it.

For the thousandth time of the morning, I tell Garrett we are NOT getting out the paints.

His reaction?

He smacks his hands to his thighs, growls, stomps off, and yells at the top of his lungs, "DAMN IT!"

My reaction?

Giggling inside, shock on the outside. I gasp, "GARRETT, we do NOT say those words."

Laura helpfully responds, her eyes wide, "We don't say 'damn it'."

Garrett, distracted from his anger, says, "Yeah, 'damn it' is not good."

Laura replies, with a smirk, "'Damn it' is bad words."

Garrett continues, laughing, "We can't say 'damn it', mom."

Me? "ONE MORE TIME AND I AM WASHING OUT MOUTHS. YOU'RE DONE."

If they can figure out how to work in curse words five times in a 30 second conversation at ages 3 and 4, I JUST.CAN'T.WAIT. until they're 14. That should be fun, damn it.