“When I Fall Asleep
I’d Like To make Myself Believe That Planet earth Turns Slowly
It’s Hard To Say I’d Rather Stay Awake When I’m Asleep
Because My Dreams Are Bursting At The Seams.”
Welcome to the Fly on the Wall- Bursting At The Seams, a group challenge about what someone would see if they were a fly on the wall in your home.
Time does seem to “Fly” when we’re having fun… this article marks our 13th consecutive Fly On The Wall post about the awesome of our everyday weirdness.
I once believed that the half cracked stuff that goes on here, happens around every kitchen table.
I was wrong, apparently.
That happens on occasion.
The family is full of craziness and as unbelievable as it sounds, this is just the smallest fraction of what really goes down in Nutty Town. With this many people, pets and businesses under one roof, we are bursting at the seams in more ways than one but you can bet most of them are fairly fun.
“Someone stinks!” was the call from the rear of the truck as we drove down the road. “Pit check everyone!”
I glance in the rear view mirror to see not only all four of our kids arms up in the air sniffing their arm pits but the extra kid we had in the car was too.
The offender was located and readily admitted to B.O.
Never fear! K whipped open the armrest door, reaches in and pulls out a new stick of deodorant, handing it over to the offender.
Where did that come from?
“My emergency deodorant stash because seriously, who wants to smell like a goat?!”
She has a whole freakin’ mini mart of products organized and concealed carefully.
Pass me some lotion.
“I found a blanket in the closet. It reminds me of marshmallows, happiness and fluffy clouds floating in the sky. Can I put it on my bed?” Luc asks.
Since a blanket evoked so much joy, who was I to crash his happy parade.
A little while later I look in on him fluffing the blanket and pillows into place, grab his book, take a couple steps backwards and did a running leap onto his bed. Landing laying down and making the giant down feather comforter blanket fluff up all the way around him, like a perfect nest built for one. He grinned ear to ear with satisfaction and opened his book beginning to read.
I giggled and he looked over at me and contently said, ” I can’t help it. It’s just so fluffy and amazing!”
A good book and a favorite fluffy blanket goes a long way around here.
We all have some funky little skeletons in our closets, drawers and cabinets.
My cabinets are like retro time warps of fantastic relics.
Look out! Haggling at a garage sale near you!
I confessed in the Secret Subject Swap post last week.
Actually, court is closer to where The Handsome Prince works so I wont be sad to carpool with his cute heiny and possibly catch a stray date night out of this imposed civic duty.
Take that jury duty, I like this idea.
“I’m becoming a girlie girl. I told you I wouldn’t but I’m starting to care about hair, make up and stuff.”
They chatted and cuddled.
Then she farted on him and the magic of the moment was dashed as they raced through the house screeching.
Thanks for the head’s up. Looks like we’re in no danger of maturity around here anytime soon.
We worked into the wee hours but got everything accomplished.
As we fell into our bed at 3AM, I was rattling off things I planned to accomplish after a couple hours of rest.
When I got up at 8AM, I had the worst hangover… with zero alcohol consumed. I was dragging some serious rear and The Prince wasn’t much better. Gone are the days that working one full time job and then going to put in another 8+ hours elsewhere doesn’t require a lot of Advil, Icy Hot back patches and more rebound time than the night you discovered Everclear Jell-o shots.
Growing older is fantastic is so many ways but this whole slowly falling apart crap-o-la just isn’t working for me.
I want that part of the deal renegotiated stat!
“It is all in the delivery,” Kenzie whispers to Luc in the living room. “For instance, if you want Mom to agree to something, it works best when you do something little but shows initiative first. Like, ‘I brought in the trash cans and the mail. May I have some ice cream please?’ She loves it when she thinks that we’re thinking and the more polite and proper the better. They think they’re doing it right and then feel good about letting us eat ice cream. It is a classic win-win combination.”
“The old lady falls for it EVERY time,” I say from the kitchen.
“Exactly… uh, oops. How much did you hear?” She asks with a snicker.
“Enough to know that you have finally started listening to your parents. We’ve been telling you that for years!”
“It is called The Face and if you don’t leave me alone, The Face is going to meet your face.”
Inspirational quotes by K.
Aww, the warm fuzzes of tender family moments shared.
The Handsome Prince teases that the only reason that I like him rockin’ the lumberjack look is because it is repellant to other women.
I just like him. Perhaps a whole lot. Extra hair is just an optional feature during the winter months.
The big blob in the corner is Molly, our black Labrador. Note the brown/red fuzzy stuffed animal she’s snuggling with. Since we are bursting at the seams, we asked everyone to prepare a bag(s) for donation. This large well loved stuffed brown bear was placed on top of one of the bags as they collected in our office. I asked if the bear was meant to be there and was assured that it was.
The next day, the bear was gone.
I peeked into the room of the bear’s owner expecting it to be on her bed. It was not.
Later, I saw Molly ever so gently carry the bear into our room and tuck it into her bed in the corner.
She holds it, moves it around but it has become her best napping pal.
I didn’t think the bear was meant to leave us yet.
I just didn’t expect who needed it.
At dinner, Min accidentally sent a macaroni noodle up in the air and then she caught it in her lap.
She looks at The Handsome Prince who was getting ready to tease her and bursts into tears.
Not just boo- hoo but big fat emotional overload irrational girl salty fiesta of funk.
We all just sat there, not quite sure of what to make of the sobbing before us.
Don’t anyone move… it looks unstable and could attack.
“Are you okay?” The Prince asks.
She nods with tears streaming down her cheeks, “I dropped my noodle. I’m fine.”
From the other end of the table Luc said something about “lost her noodle was more like it”.
“Is it safe to hand over chocolate and run or is implying that PMS has been set on cruise control going to make this ride a little more uncomfortable for all of us strapped in? In honor of the impending crimson tide, let’s just start the wave,” announces The Handsome Prince.
With that, our first ever dinner table “wave” was commenced and went around several times.
Having a big family comes in handy when a table wave breaks out. Far more festive.
She laughed, she cried, she did the wave too.
Then she ate my ice cream straight from the container. Hateful.
I went to go pick up one of the kiddos and K came along for the drive later in the evening.
Our tract of houses is fairly festive outdoor lighting wise so I was trying to get her out of her teenager grump and enjoy a bit of time with me. I was chattering along pointing out this and that, basically making her wish that she had not left her lair and the Dean Koontz book she was reading. We come up to a house and I point and yell, “Balls K!”
“Dripping icicles! It makes the house look like it has drippy balls!” I say totally yapping away unaware.
She’s now dying of laughter next to me. I can’t figure out what was so funny. She’s laughing to hard to fill me in. It went a little something like this, “Drip.. Drippy…Dr..Drippy B….Balls… DRIPPY BALLS!” She now yells at me and then dissolves back into laughter so hard she’s gasping for air. Min gets in the car and asked what was so funny.
“The house on the street over? I meant to tell you.”
Dripping icicle lights make us all blush now.
Earphones in electronic devise in hand.
I’m constantly throwing pillows at him to get his attention, since he never hears me.
Wonder how that will work it’s way out in therapy later.
I was trimming the edge when Bellatrix attacked the scissors but my finger got in the way. Forcing me to use one of my new cute owl Curad latex free band-aid. Very spiffy.
About five minutes later we realized that we had the top piece of the flannel backwards and had begun to tie it.
Al Pal is holding down the wild fleece for us.
All good projects require a little mix up, some blood shed, a few grumbles, a spotted kitty and owls for maximum funny memories.
Now if only I had squirrel band-aids.
That might be my missing piece. The void in my life. The place that has temporarily been filled by copious amounts of cheesecake and lots of words.
Some people design their own line of clothing or even some great frying pans.
This nut just wants latex free squirrel band-aids.
Big dream… bursting at the seams.
(K is the short hair in the front row, center-ish)
I went to take a picture and… Bam, Min photo bomb!
She sort of looks like grumpy cat.
She says, “I follow you and you are like all Martha Stewart. You do everything and your always happy and positive. How do you do it?”
My answer: I’m in therapy.
I decided that there is A LOT that I do absolutely horribly so when I find a strength, I try hard to learn to use it. My kids are a bit older and I have a super supportive hubby. What you don’t see is the HUGE piles of laundry, fine layer of dusty jackalopes that could hop right down the street, when working on big projects. Sometimes I carry the load better than others. When I don’t, I’ve been blessed with an incredible small group of people that offer me tremendous support and extra when I deserve it the least. I leave myself positive reminders everywhere, Facebook included because I need them. Positive is a forced mind frame that I have been trying to practice in the hopes that I will become the knee jerk reaction instead of negative. It hasn’t worked just yet but eventually I’ll get out of my way.
Nope, Not Martha.
Frankly, I think I’m far to pleasant a person to be compared to her.
Plus, throwing a perfect party isn’t fun.
The best part is the most funky, odd, oops and the company. I’ll take a paper plate, a red plastic cup, some potluck food and wickedly awesome people (& pets), please.
I love a beautiful table but I’m there to see the beautiful faces I love, not judge the thread count of the linens.
We prefer our house bursting at the seams with laughter, love and delicious recipes cranking out of the oven.
There is always room at the table for another nut.
http://BakingInATornado.com Baking In A Tornado
http://followmehome.shellybean.com Follow me home . . .
http://thesadderbutwisergirl.com The Sadder But Wiser Girl
http://www.menopausalmom.com/ Menopausal Mother
http://themomisodes.com/ The Momisodes
http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/ Spatulas on Parade
http://www.therowdybaker.com The Rowdy Baker
http://sorrykidblog.com/ Sorry kid, Your Mom Doesn’t Play Well With Others
http://www.juiceboxconfession.com Juicebox Confession
http:// bethteliho.wordpress.com Writer B is Me
http://dates2diapers2.blogspot.com Dates 2 Diapers
http://kissmylist.com/ Kiss My List
http://momsdontsaythat.com Moms Don’t Say That
www.adventureintodomesticland.com Adventure into Domesticland