A girl can dream, can't she?

Lately my mind has been wandering.

I've been dreaming of another.

Something new.

Something contoured.

Something sleek....and black.

Here. Here's a picture of what I hope will soon move in with us and become a part of our family.

He's a beast, isn't he?

I need him.

I want him. All 24.7 cubic feet of him.

He'd look handsome in my kitchen, wouldn't he?

I'd kindly move his predecessor to the garage where he could take on a new role as a beverage fridge/2nd freezer in command. Yes, that's right. I'd have 2 freezers. Place your jealousy aside.

I've been asking myself the inevitable, "Do we really need this?"

My answer - Of course we need this! We're a family of seven. My current meal-planning rarely goes beyond one week. With my new love, I would be granted the SPACE to plan for weeks at a time. Never again would a 'buy one, get one free' sale on chicken breasts be passed up. I can imagine myself for the first time pulling a pound of ground beef out of my freezer as I make my morning coffee. Or perhaps I'd pull a second pound out when unexpected (but always welcome) guests arrive for dinner. The possibilities are endless.

Call me crazy, but these are the things (my) dreams are made of.

Someday, I hope you'll stop by for a cup of coffee and feast your eyes on his gloriousness. Together, we'll stare at my new love and I'll share with you all of the fine details he has to offer. If you like, please join us for dinner. I'll pull something out of the freezer.

I'll even let you choose.

Relocation...

Things are bittersweet for me as I climb the stairs this morning. Our wonderful little frat house of brothers is no longer there. The playroom is gone and now houses two boys. What used to be the Olivas frat, now houses two boys as well. (Wes continues to stake his claim to a room of his own......just one of the perks of being the youngest.)

The boys have been dropping hints to us for several weeks about the possibility of splitting up. Derek and I have been doing our best to ignore their efforts. Last week they cornered us during (what seemed to be) normal dinnertime conversation. They shared their ideas for placement of furniture and gave us their first and second choices of which brother they would 'do best' rooming with. Yes, our sons successfully organized an intervention.

Derek and I had no rebuttal. Early Sunday morning we dropped the babes at Dee & Papa's and headed home with the big boys. We took apart (and later reassembled) two sets of bunk beds, moved dressers, bookcases & toys, and gave each room a fresh new look. We've got a lot that still needs to be done, and the boys have grand plans for us (new paint colors, etc.), but it's a start.

The boys are loving their new sleeping arrangements. I, however, am having a hard time. Not with the new room assignments (it's so cute to see how excited the boys are...we probably should have done it sooner), but with the fact that we have no play room. Call me crazy. I fell in love with having ONE ROOM designated for the storage and placement of toys. I'm not used to (and don't like the cluttered look of) toys strewn throughout my house. Our front room now holds our play kitchen and I have repeatedly found myself tripping over pizza and ice cream for the past 48 hours.

I told the boys it's high time for them to step up. So, along with new rooms this weekend, they each received (each meaning everyone over the age of 3) a new chore chart. Aren't I nice?

Get to work, my sons.

200 Little Hitchhikers

First off, let me say that I am reluctant to EVER post again. It seems you, my (thousands and thousands of) readers, enjoyed taking a peek into what it's like to prepare meals at my house. Imagine my joy in finding 9 comments....a Gang Of Seven record. Shall we do breakfast? It's even more exciting. Stick around, breakfast is headed to a computer near you. PS-I'd like to see what it's like to cook in your home. I think we're on to something here.....

As a reward for above average listening skills during swim lessons last Saturday, I took the entomologist in training (Luke) to the local garden center to purchase his annual Praying Mantis pods. (see picture below)

Each year we successfully hatch 500 of these intriguing insects and release them into our garden. We continue to find them (sometimes in our house) all summer long.


Yesterday Luke pointed to the shelf where the 2 pods peacefully rest in their container for 2 weeks until hatching. He told me he thought they had hatched. I explained (without investigation) that it will be a while longer.

Then he told me 'something' was moving. That got ME moving.

To my utter horror, I saw about 200 of these.....

(baby spiders)

I called the garden center and spoke with a woman like this....


It made me want to put these on and drive straight there....



"We need proof!" She hissed. "Bring the baby spiders and we'll give you new praying mantis pods."

Tomorrow I will happily drive the infant arachnids directly to her. Yes, I'm waiting until tomorrow. I want to make sure every last 100 of them have a fair chance to hatch.

Baby spiders she asked for. Baby spiders she shall receive.

I've always been a giver.

Homemade Lasagna 101

Someone recently asked me if I cooked dinner every night. I try. I truly do love to cook and bake. But sometimes....OK, MOST times, it's proves to be a daunting task.

As I began to cook last nights meal (lasagna), I decided to chronicle my efforts from start to finish. I hung my camera around my neck and hit the ground running.

Here it is, folks. Cooking with Amy

Tonight's recipe: Gluten-Free Lasagna

A Photo Journal~

Send the chillins outside with popsicles. Try to find the biggest ones in your freezer. The longer it takes them to eat them, the more time you have to cook....ALONE!

Start to brown the Italian sausage

Turn on the People's Court (should be step one, clearly I wasn't thinking straight. Notice baby sleeping peacefully on monitor. Never neglect your duties as a mom. ALWAYS place monitor near T.V.)

Grease 9 x 13 inch pan and begin with a layer of sauce. (Yes, that's Prego you see in the background. Forgive me.) Search fridge and find you have no parmesan. Things could be worse. At least you got to shower this morning.

Stop for first interruption. Child claims to have a cut 'wif awot of bwood.'

Child can't remember which finger obtained significant injury. Maybe it's this one...

Start to place bandage on child's (invisible) laceration. Child goes ballistic. Pick your battle and allow child to do it himself.

Miss the verdict. Crap. (Silently place blame on not-so-injured child)

Begin to cook again. But only for a second. Crying ensues from the back yard. Popsicles are long gone and child has hung himself (by his shorts) from motorized vehicle. Assist child.

Make sure child is OK. Give hug and kiss. Refrain from laughing, and go back inside.

Start to crave this:

Quickly realize it's only this: (place wine back in fridge...you CAN do it!)

Begin where you left off (wherever that was) Get interrupted again. This time, by a child with flowers....FOR YOU! Hug and kiss the child all over. Resume.

Finish first layer. Take a deep breath. You may actually complete this.

Become distracted by child handing you BBQ tools through open window. Though not as pleasing as flowers, politely say thank you and smoother child with kisses.

Put BBQ tools away and check on children.

Finish last layer and not a moment too soon. Child in bathroom needs his fanny wiped.

WASH HANDS, then place lasagna in oven.

Place naughty child in time out. Notice how he smirks as you walk away. Count to ten and take another deep breath. Begin to clean up.

Doorbell rings. (Frick.) Open the door and find your son arriving home from school. Attempt to smoother with kisses. Hold back tears as he wipes them off.

Reward yourself for a job well-done!

Child has meltdown. Reluctantly share your See's candy with him.

Stop to ponder your child's hair. Wonder why it looks like Kevin Bacon's.

Take all children outside to wait for daddy. Try your best to understand the gripping lure of Star Wars. Give up trying.

Husband arrives and saves the day. House smells of homemade goodness and he thinks you're wonderful. (he's right) Dig in.

Meet & Greet

Last night was kindergarten orientation at Luke's school. He got the chance to see (and play in) his classroom, and was also able to meet his teacher, Mrs. Grossnickle.

His favorite part, you ask?

Why the playground, of course!

Ramblings

I feel the need to ramble. I have so many thoughts in my head.

Grab a chair. This could be a long one.

I need to start by sharing what Evan asked me at the dinner table last night. Derek and I had just finished talking about our day, and all of the things that came with it. Grumpy customers & upcoming meetings for Derek, chocolate milk spills & runny noses for me. "Mom?" Evan asked. "I have a question." "Ask away." I say. "Are you ever going to get a job?" (yes, he put extra emphasis on the word ever) I counted to ten (and took a deep breath) and explained to him in the sweetest 'mommy voice' ever heard that I do, in fact, have a job.

Speaking of counting, I think we need to cut back on the amount of wrestling that takes place in our home. It seems to be interfering with Logan's learning. For weeks I've been working with Logan on counting to ten. He is so close. He tends to get mixed up around number 8, skips number 9, and heads straight for 10. We were counting the other day and he abruptly stopped at 3. "One, two, three." I encouraged. "What comes after 3?"

His answer....."Ding, Ding, Ding!"

The boys bring me flowers each and every day. They have picked all the daffodils from our back yard and have moved on to the dandelions. Weed or flower, I treasure them all.

Mother's Day is Sunday. I can't believe how quickly the months pass by. Sometimes I wish I could put the brakes on. As of yet, we have no firm plans, but a family hike sounds great to me. I don't need any gifts, because I have everything I could ever want and more. I have a wonderful husband and the best 5 boys IN THE WORLD. It's truly an honor to be their mom.

(Photo booth...gotta love it.)

To my mom, thanks for everything you do. I didn't start my job as a mom with a blank slate. Some might even say I had an unfair advantage. I had the privilege of learning from the best of the best. Happy early Mother's Day, Mom. I love you.

To ALL the mom's out there~HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!! (may you all find a job)

PS-About the no gift thing I mentioned. Perhaps a ceramic cookie jar for my counter would be nice. I have my sights set on a few. Questions? See me....

Chompers!

SHINY HAPPY CHOMPERS SMILING AWAY!

(Most sincere apologies to R.E.M.)

We went to the dentist this morning. We all got an A+!

Bright-Eyed

I just had to post this comparison.....couldn't resist.

Ever since we watched the movie 'Bedtime Stories' as one of our Friday Night Party Night flicks, we've been referring to Wes as Bugsy.

Here are two pictures of Wes-

And this is a picture of Bugsy-
Aren't the eyes identical? They must have the same Dad.

PS-My life is over. Bugsy just started crawling yesterday. Send reinforcements. Send wine.

Love,

Amy

An EGGceptional Analogy

Luke (my chef in training) is helping me make meatloaf.

As he is mixing all of the ingredients, I look over his shoulder every few minutes. You know, just to make sure the Lego guy he's holding in his left hand doesn't accidentally make his way into our meal.

After he mixes for roughly two minutes, I peer over for (what should be) the last time.

I notice 4 completely intact eggs. We're making a double batch. It's what you eat when you're poor. Anyway, here's the conversation that took place during my hoovering.

Me-Luke, you need to squash up those eggs.

Luke-What does squash mean?

Me-You know, like break them up.

Luke-Huh?

Me-Smash them, Luke.

Luke-(silently examining the eggs for more than one minute) Oh, I get it! You mean I should DEFEAT them?!

Me-Huh? Uhhhh....yes, Luke, defeat the eggs. Do whatever it takes.

Luke-OOOH.....POW....UGH.....BLAM....HA! I defeated you!

Twenty seconds (and several sound effects) later, all four eggs were completely defeated, and our meatloaf is complete.