Breakfast On The Beach

I'm two days into my new big work endeavor...still doing my regular job (which I LOVE) but adding a pilot program to that which is kicking me to the curb.  Well, sort of.  It's just...intense.  There are a lot (well, a few) of hurt feelings surrounding it and a lot (well, a few) of people who seem to think I am the one to blame and they are just, well, being greenie meanies.  And I don't like it.  But oh well, I only have to talk to them once in awhile (by phone) and that's ok...but hey, it still makes me kinda grumpy.

But anyway....it's a challenge and I like a challenge.  

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Brian is, by the way, better.  He wasn't ever really sick, so to speak.  Once he, ummm, cleansed himself, all was well.   I kept him home from school on Monday just to be sure and today he is back and doing well.

I will say this....he will NEVER live this down.

Matthew has a great barf story, too (and WOW...do my boys look young in that video!)...but his at least happened at school, which means I didn't have to, ummmm, clean it up.  That sounds kinda selfish, but it's true.

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Last night I climbed into bed and checked my calendar for the next day.  That guy that I like so much had made reservations for us for breakfast at The Beachcomber...a splurge that is SO worth it.  This morning after my morning rush, we walked down, ate breakfast and drank coffee on the beach and then walked the hill back up.

Gloriously perfect.

And then he went to work and I went to work and we all went to work and all I could think about was napping.

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No time for a nap today, but I did squeeze in a few miles on the hill.  Supper is going to be perfect...leftover lasagne and meatballs and sausage.  Alex is working, Brian is at basketball and so it'll be a quiet night around here.  I'm predicting a cocktail, supper and then me falling sound asleep on the couch by 7:15pm.  Romantic.

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Please Don't Read...

...if you have a weak stomach.  Or are eating.  Or are thinking about eating. Or might want to eat sometime again in the near future.

Seriously, you've been warned.

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When I was uploading these pictures, I had a whole post planned.  I was going to write about how great of a weekend we had...how our little house on our little street was packed to the gills with family. How all the cousins (minus Matthew...boo hoo) were together and how much laughter and chaos and love abounds when that happens.  How FUN it all was.

And how blessed I feel.

I love how God knits families together...whether by blood or marriage or just by an unbreakable bond.

How thankful I am for my sisters.

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Our internet has been a bit slow the last few days...probably because there are a bazillion devices all trying desperately to find their little piece of wifi.  I looked through my pictures, started the upload last night and walked to my neighbors house to chat.  That guy that I like so much hadn't moved all day long...he was a fixture at our kitchen table with lots of pencils and lots of scores and only looked up every few hours or so.  Alex was in the shower and Brian, who had eaten everything he could find that wasn't nailed down, was in his room watching a movie.

The above facts are important. 

So I'm sitting at my neighbors, who, if you read way above, know that they are like family to us.  Like, truly family.  We were laughing and catching up when there was a knock on their door.

It was that guy that I like so much...who just said, quietly, "come quick."

"Come quick."

Those two words were the end of my happy, happy weekend.

Let's review a few of the facts before I go on.  

1. Weak stomach?  Stop reading.

2. Middle son in the boys shower.

3. Youngest son who spent the afternoon eating everything in sight.

As I was running home with that guy that I like so much I know what had happened.  Sort of anyway.  I asked if it was Brian and I asked if he threw up.  That guy that I like so much was....speechless.

I should have considered that my warning.

Brian apparently started to feel sick and knew he was going to...puke.  Throw up.  Vomit.  Barf. Hurl.  Whatever you say in your household.  All those words apply here.  Anyway, he stood up and found his bathroom...occupied.

He began to throw up.  He continued to throw up.  He threw up and threw up and threw up.

GALLONS.

He threw up in his room.  He threw up in the hallway.  He threw up all over the pile of linens and sleeping bags and pillows that were on the floor by the linen closet following our weekend company.  He ran through my room, throwing up all along the way turning his head from side to side for reasons unbeknownst to me, and into my bathroom, where it took him a bit to find the place where he should be throwing up.

There was VOMIT EVERYWHERE.

Walls.  Doors.  Baseboards. Floors. 

EVERYWHERE.

I cannot even begin to describe what it was like, except to say that over the course of my mothering years I have NEVER seen anything like this.

EVER.

14 year olds have BIG stomachs.

They hold GALLONS.

It was so bad that I just started to cry, said a few unlady like words, prayed for Jesus to come NOW or to at least send me a guardian angel to clean it up and I then walked back to the front of the house.  I had no clue as to where to begin.

It was BAD.

In the meantime, that guy that I like so much was just standing in the kitchen.  Quietly.  This guy has been in the trenches with me and is a hands on dad...except in cases of vomit.  It's our unwritten rule...I handle vomit; he handles blood. 

I wanted to change the unwritten rule.

So, he's just standing there...in shock, I think.  Alex finishes his shower and notices stuff seeping under the bathroom door....cracks it open, screams and barricades himself inside.  Brian is puking in my bathroom.  I am praying, out loud, arms in the air, for the world to end.  

It took rubber gloves.  And a scarf tied over my face.  And FOUR ROLLS of paper towels.  And TEN beach towels.  A wet vac.  A steam mop.  A vacuum. Baking soda and pine sol and air freshener.  And a whole lotta moaning and groaning and screaming and complaining and tears.

And that was just from me.

Brian, after an hour, was fine.  Empty, if you will.

Our little house on our little street?  Smells...woodsy.  Like pine sol.  And like something you can't quite put your finger on...and don't want to.   

Sigh.

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Catching Up

I had plans of sitting down and writing earlier this week but somehow time just whooshed on by.  I am working a lot...thankfully from home, but alot nonetheless.  Plus it was Spring Break for Brian and I spent as many hours as possible with him...we did some breakfasts out, some lunches out, a little shopping and even caught a movie.  I've been around the block a time or two and know full well that these precious Spring Break times are just that...precious.  Next Spring Break he'll be (gasp) learning to drive and I feel the change coming.

But thankfully?  The kid still loves to hang with his mama.  I talked him into hiking with me 4 days last week...and all 4 days he lapped me.

Show off.

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If you follow me on Instagram (I'm ahousefulofboys over there) then you've seen many of these photos...but this was supper one night.  My Dr suggested beer for an ailment and I'm taking his advice whole heartedly.

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Brian showed up for lunch one day with a bunch of friends...I provided various spreads and a loaf of bread.  No complaints!  It's been decided that none of my crew are huge fans of Biscoff...but I won a case of it so they can not like it after it's all gone.

I had to renew my drivers license...thanks to an appointment, I was in and out in 20 minutes.  All these people waiting...wonder what their lives are like?  The fun fact....for the first time in my adult life, I weigh what my drivers license says I weigh.  Ask me to see it and I'll show you.

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Happy Hour with friends.  We ate like pigs and then they ended up paying.  Sigh.  The food was good and the stories?  WOW...they have some good ones!  

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This picture just makes me laugh.  Hard.  

Late, late on Friday night, the cousins came for the weekend.  They have such a fun dynamic...love watching them together.

Out of order, but a girlfriend texted me this picture of my baby at the beach.  My 14 year gym rat of a baby.

He is now locked in his room and not allowed out until he's 30.

Ready?  Because life can never be easy for too long...my son's car was stolen.  As in...GONE.  What can you do, aside from file a police report and pray that it comes back in one piece...though that's unlikely.  Sadly, the blue book is nothing.  Or next to nothing.  My attittude about the whole thing?  Well...what are we going to do?

The blessing?  I'm driving a company car, which means my car is just sitting out front.  We're going to drive it up to Matthew until the insurance money comes and then he'll have to figure out what to do next.

And, in case you think I might have a mature bone in body?  Think again.

Happy Saturday, everyone.

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Easter This Year

Easter this year had us at a bunch of different churches...which happens to be the norm in church worker families.  It's not a day off for my crew; in fact, it's the opposite...it's a day where they all work really, really hard and then come home and take a nap.

A much deserved nap.

But first...antipasto for lunch.  A big platter of stuff...meats and cheeses and veggies.  This platter fed 15 hungry people...plus a few stragglers.  I like it because it's easy yet looks impressive and there's a little somthin' somethin' for everyone...which means NO ONE COMPLAINS.

Happy, happy indeed.

All my boys were home and I love anytime they are all together...they just have this 'thing' that I love watching unfold.  They are funny and annoying and they drive me absolutely crazy.  Putting them in charge of the annual egg hunt for their little cousins?  

Made me wonder what I was thinking.

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Eggs on cars.  Eggs in the street.  Eggs on the roof.

Clearly they forgot who their target audience was.  Clearly they didn't know that the shingles on the roof are there for a reason.  Clearly they don't think clearly when they are all together.

So...let's see.  Church.  Lunch.  Egg hunt.  Bocce. 

The sun was shining and everyone was relaxed and happy...and hyper.  Very, very hyper.  Must've been all those chocolate bunnies.

Speaking of bunnies...the annual bunny cake!

 He was delicious.

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The age range was from 3 to much older than 3, plus a whole crowd in between.  I always like when there is a girl in the mix of my boys.  Just sayin'.  

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It was a really, really nice day.   I just kept looking around and feeling so thankful...thankful for all the love that was so evident in this little house on our little street.  For family and friends and food...and for a God who made all of this possible. 

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I Just Wanted A Family Picture

 Just one.  I mean, it's not like everyone lives under the same roof now...so when we are all together I'd like a picture.  Just a single good picture.  Plus, the Grandparents on the paternal side are always asking for pictures and just let me say this:

I'm tryin'.

So here is the play by play, beginning with me doing the 'come ON!  I just want one picture!  Please!'

Here, that guy that I like so much is attempting to gain some sense of control over his sons.  The ones he is responsible for.  I blame him for all of this.

OK...here we go.  The kid in the back...well, I pray daily that he ends up with a child just like himself.  

Just take lots and lots of shots because one WILL turn out.  Maybe?

I'm beginning to threaten.  You can tell how well that works.

FYI...this is the best of the bunch.  114 pictures taken over a 3 minute period of time and this. was. it.

Uh oh.  Here we go.  What is it with boys who cannot seem to keep their hands off each other?  Why does EVERYTHING turn into a wrestling match?  

Here I am, trying to regain control.  That guy that I like so much?  He's done.

Great teamwork, honey.

His method is to just let them finish.  Tire themselves out. Grow up and mature. 

He spends a lotta time sitting and waiting.  He's gonna spend a lot more.

My sister in law?  Well, she has four children.  They're still young and wear matching clothes, but she sees what's coming.  So do I...and it makes me smile.

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OK...time to regroup.  Let's get this thing done.

Not sure whose idea this pose was, but it wasn't a good one.  They just can't handle being within touching range of each other.

See what I mean?

This. Is. Exhausting.  

Nope.

And this is it.  I quit.  They wore me out.  

Good thing I like them.

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