The Usual Chaos in Frumpville

So this morning, my husband took a personal day off of work to study and prepare for an important exam he has to take tomorrow and needed us out of his hair for a while.

When my little babysitting charges arrived on our doorstep at 6:30 this morning, it occurred to me that if I could get Jericho out of bed and ready for school earlier than usual, we could go grocery shopping before I took him to school, the idea being that his help would make navigating the grocery store with little ones a whole lot less stressful.

Having spent a gift card left over from his birthday just last evening, Jericho sat in the passenger seat all the way to the store consumed with the new game he was playing on his Nintendo DS.

Which was fine, because I was busy mentally mapping out how we would manage the logistics of the shopping trip, having only 30 minutes to get in and out of the store if we were to do this thing right.

It's always a big production to get all those little tots under three in and out of their carseats and shopping carts (especially under a tight time constraint) and the effort usually leaves me frustrated beyond measure a tad stressed out.

Adding to this fiasco is that I'm used to only one little octopus tot grabbing at everything in sight in the check-out lanes, but today had three. It's like 24 arms are flailing about grasping at everything in sight.

Why do they do that to moms, piling all the packs of gum and candy within reach of the shopping cart seat?

I tell you, it's a test of my multi-tasking mettle to have to load a cart full of food onto the conveyor belt, keep little hands from grabbing and eating all that candy and gum, make sure the kids that aren't belted into the cart don't fall out and break their necks and then to still be able to converse with the cashier and remember any coupons I might have floating around in the depths of my purse.

The trip began well enough. After getting the little kids loaded into the shopping cart in the store parking lot, I noticed that Jericho's DS was sitting in full view on the dashboard in the van.

In our area, you just can't do that, or you'll find the window busted in and the item missing when you return. So I quickly unlocked the van and quickly stowed it in the center console out of sight before relocking the door.

Armed with my list, we hoofed it through the store as quickly as we could getting everything on the list, then jumped in line at the check-out lane.

When I glanced at the store clock found we had 15 minutes to get Jericho to his school which was 7 minutes away. We hadn't even been checked out yet, much less got the kids properly loaded into the vehicle, so it was one of those times where you silently plead with the cashiers to Hurry, please, and I was glad she made quick work of it, because I was busy putting out fires trying to keep the kids from grabbing everything in sight, search for coupons and converse politely with the cashier.

On the way out to the van, I said, "Okay, Jericho, you get the kids buckled into their carseats while I unload the groceries, or we're going to be late!" He's always done this for his little brother, and does a great job of making sure it's done properly.

Meanwhile I morphed into high-speed woman, practically throwing the groceries into the back end of the van while barking out frantic instructions casually reminding Jericho to buckle the youngest girl into her car seat first so she wouldn't fall out of the van.

I closed the doors, locked the van, ran the cart to the holding pen, then raced back to the van, jumped inside and double-checked to make sure the kids were all properly secured in their car seats.

A quick glance at the time told me that provided there were no abnormally long traffic lights we might just squeak into the school parking lot on time.

Jericho climbed into the front seat just then, and frantically looked around for his DS.

I was buckling myself in, starting the car and checking my side and rear-view mirrors when I noticed this, and told him, "It's in the console."

He looked in there and uttered a sigh of relief before popping it open to get his fix continue his game.

Sarcastically, I said, "Thank you, mom(for looking out for me and making sure your DS didn't get stolen)".

He grinned and said, "Oh yeah. Thanks, mom."

But before he could get his thanks out, I'd spotted a lone piece of Almond Roca left on the dash from our shopping trip last night and while backing out of my parking spot snapped added, "And hand me that piece of Almond Roca."

Jericho burst out laughing.

Drawing from a vast array of character voices he uses to mimic or otherwise jokingly mock people, he suddenly pulls out his gasping for breath harried mom voice for me, "Buckle the kids in their seats!...get that soup off the ceiling and get your brother a pickle!...Say "thank you" to me, now!...Get me that Almond Roca!"

I tried to be firm, especially in light of his exaggerations, but my face betrayed me with a smirk.

And he laughed.

And then I giggled.

Then outright guffawed.

And we managed to get him to school on time.

It was a great way to start off the day.

:: :: :: ::

Jericho's history class was recently studying about ancient Egypt, and as part of the unit had to do a big project about the Pyramids which included researching and building a replica of one of the actual pyramids.

He told me on the way home from Bible Study Tuesday evening (the day before he was to turn his project in) that he felt kind of sorry for some of the kids because you could tell they'd done theirs all by themselves. "One boy had a three-sided pyramid, and another kids was made of sugar cubes dyed red with food coloring." He truly felt sorry for them, because he was feeling pretty confident that his own project was shaping up to be awesome.

Jeff and I had helped him with his project for a couple of days over Thanksgiving Break, both the research, writing and design aspects, completing the final touches and the typing of his project until the eleventh hour.

Wednesday he came home uncertain as to whether or not his passed muster. "There were some really good ones there," he said, his confidence having waned.

He apparently didn't think this one was good enough after seeing some of the ones with sand that had been glued on to resemble actual blocks):




His depicted what it is said to have looked like immediately after it's building was compled in all it's royal glory.

This afternoon when I went to pick him up (minus the little tots since their parents picked them up early Jeff kept Judah home with him), he carried the pyramid to the van and proudly exclaimed, "My art teacher wants me to add a couple of extra features and enter it in the art contest!"

We he plans to throw a lush oasis, the Sphynx and a few sand dunes on there and turn it in Monday.

Now that's the kind of project this mama likes...killing two birds with one stone!

Of course, all this was said just before he mimicked me anew for the Almond Roca comment earlier this morning.

So, to punish him, I dragged him to a discount home decor store to look for drapery panels for the house, with plans to cap off the afternoon with a long, dull trip through Costco for the remainder of our first-of-the-month shopping.

As we were walking into the decor store, he sees one of those beautifully decorated shortened bed displays where you can see how the whole room would look if you purchased the matching sheets, comforter, shams, bed skirt and drapes...and it was lovely.

However, for unknown reasons, my 12 year old son (who would normally lag behind me the entire way through the store sighing loudly in displeasure and complaining and asking when we could leave the boring store and go to the nearby Toy's R Us)...suddenly breaks rank, darts across the store and takes a flying leap onto the bed display.

Only to find out it wasn't a soft cushy bed at all...

...but instead just a laminate cube propped up on cinderblocks, the entirety of which promptly listed to the right under the assault.

He sprang up suddenly and did what he could to right things, and turned around with big wide lemur eyes and exclaimed, "That's not a real bed."

No, ya think? LOL!

A nearby employee witnessed this spectacle and her eyes went wide, "Oh, no no no! I know that looks comfy, but it's not really a bed" she said, fluttering about to make sure everything was back in order and be certain he was okay. "It's just a display!"

By now, of course, I was blushing. And scolded my twelve year old knows-better-than-to-do-such-things son, and apologized to her profusely.

I dragged him into the depths of that store asking, "What on EARTH would possess you to do such a thing?!"

"It looked so comfortable" he muttered, a look of both sheepishness and surprise still etched on his face.

This time the tables were turned, and I threw my head back and laughed.

"This is SO going up on my blog."

And so, here it is.

:: :: :: ::

Wednesday evening, Jericho casually announced around bedtime, "Oh, by the way, my Strings recital is tomorrow night."

Yeah, thanks for that last minute notification, Son. You know, since there isn't anything else going on in the month of December.

"Oh, and I've got a surprise for you there, too."

Of course we attended, and politely listened to the eardrum-bursting renditions of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and a number of other 3 note solos from all the budding prodigies beginners.

Jericho, I was proud to say, plucked out the notes quite well, even if I do say so myself.

What thrilled me more than anything, however, was his surprise.

Turns out he'd been asked to get up and narrate a short piece about the Barouque period.

He spoke loudly and with confidence and clarity so that even those in the back of the room could hear what was said...all without the usual cotton-mouthed case of nerves he's had in the past over speaking roles.





We are just so proud of him, thankful he's finally overcome the stage-fright and nervousness.

Here he looks like a young man, and it makes me feel all wistful thinking that in just 4 years he'll be driving. *sigh*


His entire piece was presented flawlessly, with the minor mispronunciation of "Barouque" as "Barack".


However, we'll let that one slide on account of all the recent happenings in the news, lol.


:: :: :: ::

I tried to take an autumn photo of the boys recently to have enlarged for my soon-to-be-mantle.
They weren't being entirely cooperative as I tried to set up the photo, because we did this on a whim on the church lawn (one of the few places in our desert that has trees, let alone fallen leaves) and there were kids standing around distracting watching the boys.

I was ready to give up even trying, but Jeff said, "Just one more."



Good call, Jeff, 'cuz this one is definitely frameworthy.