Catching Up With The Cleaver Kids...

Today was report card day... I officially have two children who have always thought that they were smarter than me who now have the documentation to prove it, and one five year old whose teacher complains that she is still not making perfect letters and numbers and for the love of all things holy she colors out of the lines!

The baby has decided to carry the bathroom stool with her everywhere she goes. She can now reach the knife drawer, the powder laundry soap, my beer bottle on the counter and the dog's Valium. Joy.

The television downstairs-which is the television that kept my children occupied from 7 pm to 8:30 pm every night-just blew up. Well, it didn't really blow up... it was more of a poof and then a smell of burnt plastic wafting in the air. Now I will never get any peace around here. Fabulous.

There is a smell of dead animal in my kitchen that I cannot find. I have cleaned, scrubbed, bleached and sanitized everything in sight. I have smelled every cabinet, drain, nook and cranny in the place... I finally figured out it was the dog's food. I had started adding warm water to her hard food to soften it up because she is getting up there in dog years and I wanted to be nice. Well... not anymore because her food started to smell like the soggy behind of a goat.

The five year old decided to see what chap stick would look like on a wall. It looks like chap stick smeared on a wall that is what.

The baby has learned to say "Help Me! Help Me! Help Me!" over and over again-for every instance imaginable-everywhere we go. Child protective services should be here by morning.

I saw the five year old looking very guilty earlier and asked her what she was doing. She looked at me and said "Nothing illegal." Where does she come up with this stuff?

My son has this fascination with pens. He collects them and trades them at school with other weird 11 year old boys. I don't ask questions-I just pay for the therapy bills. Anyway-he left a red pen in his pocket and it went through the wash and the dryer... marking up all the clothes that were in the load and turning the inside of the dryer a tie-dyed pink. His response when he saw my head exploding while I was holding the guilty pen? "My favorite pen! What did you do to it mom!?" Military school is looking more and more appealing.

I just found 9 glasses, 3 plates, 5 forks and 6 spoons in my oldest daughter's room. She is obviously running a restaurant out of her bedroom... how else would you explain those things in there?

Why do children need a snack 5 minutes after dinner... and what does it really mean when the five year old says "But I am starving and I am going to DIE!" is she really going to die or is it me that is not going to survive her childhood? I just don't know.