oh it has been so long

yaaaawn. mid-day slump. not!!! mid-day hump as some people keep insisting. silly boys.
i need a new computer. this one keeps telling me i am not old enough to check my blogs @@. and then sometimes it tells me i dont have qualifying credentials. excuse me!

anyhoo. some funniness from prayers last night.
layla-( after i asked them to pray for a peaceful nights sleep)
dear Lord. oooh Lord. just give us a piece of sleep, please. ooh Lord.

eli- dear Jesus, please help my dad be a good boy. sometimes he is rotten. ( giggle)

yikes

Late last night, when I stumbled home drunk,
pissed off and looking for a fight, my adorable
little 4-year-old Debbie Sue ran and hid
the kitchen knives all on her own.
Kids -- they grow up so fast, don't they?

(Chris MacEachen)

tis the season to be merry.

it's holiday times folks. time to bust out those favorite holiday movies. personally i like to get all caught up on my national lampoons around this time. "Is rusty still in the naaavy?"
that aunt bethany has still got it!
i am seeing decorations out in the local Wally World.(walmart) and even some tidbits of "getting ready" on the radio, Christmas contests and what not. ( have i ever mentioned my love for what not? any party that includes what not is goodtimes imo) anyhoo. and now i am receiving those weird random gadgets catologs in the mail. they sell hip and now things like "i'm with stupid" tee shirts and screen doors that require no assembly. but this year my catolog featured an extra special gift to give. i just really need to find that right special someone.
it is called 90 minute nude aerobics. ONLY $14.99!! what a steal. i felt strange seeing it next to the "in the cookie of life..friendship" pillow. and below the neon cross (dont you worry lou..thats got your name all over it!!)
but i feel torn between a few people that would really fit this gift. i mean of course i will use my husbands name when ordering! i have dignity! and i will give the present from the kids. but who...oh who..is worthy of such a gift.
i think the winner has to be my dad. aaaah. my dad. one year each of the kids (all married) in my family {that's me and my three brothers} got a mysterious phone call from dad saying he sent each couple a present and to please just be open to it. i told him not to worry and would, with out opening it, stamp return to sender immediately. he promised it would be okay. a week later we each got three unmarked vhs tapes. and strangely our spouses were the only ones who felt the need to look any further. and wouldnt you know? what a giver. Dad had given the gift of "how to sunthin sunthin videos" i cant tell what an experience it is to get instructive porn from your dad. precious. it is precious. but only because it has now opened an unclosable door for ANY PRESENT WE EVER WANTED TO GET HIM!! merry christmas dad.

i think i am gonna spew*

i think my favorite part of Mallrats has to be when Jason Lee as Brodie slaps his little dixie like cup onto the counter and tells the man to "feel'er up. no ice." this makes me laugh just to think about it. i mean, dont get me wrong, when what's his head with the picture calls shannon daugherty "Brenda" i laugh even when it is the 25th time i have watched that. i think i love this movie. which leads me to love "my name is Earl" i have it set to record regularly on my tivo.


*the writer recognizes the title has nothing to do with the content.

music

i love how God can minister through music. not just during church in worship, but real, out there music. i wish i had written this song. it sums up life for me right now. i am sure many of you, moms especially, can relate. like we are just on hold while we do this parenting thing God has called us to. Lord, let my desires be for you and my children so that i am not glancing around every corner up ahead wondering if something better is coming. thanks for the confidence in me to steer so many little ones in the right direction. sorry that i am going to screw up again. in fact i am due for a wrong choice in 3..2..1..just joking. i dont want my kids to be something i did and got over with. every minute, i want to fill them with you. this morning dh and i discussed him teaching fashion sense over self esteem to our three year old. thank you for making her feel beautiful in her three sizes too big shoes. teach her that you define her, not her clothes.amen.

SURRENDER- BarlowGirl
My hands hold safely to my dreams
clutching tightly not one has fallen
so many years i've shaped each one
reflecting my heart showing who i am
now You're asking me to show
what i'm holding oh so tightly
can't open my hands can't let go
does it matter?
should i show You?
can't You let me go?

Surrender, Surrender You whisper gently
You say I will be free
I know by can't You see?
my dreams are me, my dreams are me.

You say You have a plan for me
and that You want the best for my life
told me the world had yet to see
what You can do with one
thats committed to your calling
i know of course what i should do
that i can't hold these dreams forever
if i give my life to You
will You take them away forever?
or can i dream again?

sometimes i get so caught up in why my plan isnt working that i dont realize what i can be doing here, now. i dont want this to be my focus. i get frustrated when people impose these thoughts on me. like, you need to get away from your kids for a while, or maybe if you get a part time job you would feel like you were contributing to the family or the earth or whatever. ooh or "do you work?" yah, actually i have a job you could never do. these are things i would never say...out loud. but now any of you who ask me these questions or say these things will know what i am thinking. :)

jokes already?

I just read where the Navy is sending one of its SEAL teams to New Orleans. Frankly, I don't think the citizens of that fair city are in the mood for entertainment right now.
(Tidewater Joe)


okay. there is funny and there is wrong. i havent actually decided where this fits. ::snicker::

conversations with eli (as over heard by mom)

this was a classic. just for memory sake my son is four. ripe.

eli: mommy, can i go play outside.
me: no, cause we need to clean up a bit first.
eli: (whine, stomp, complain all under his breath)

this is the part i eavesdrop

eli: why did you have to marry mommy ( in a low mumble)
dad: what?
eli: why did you have to marry mommy?
dad: why did i marry mommy? cause i love her.
eli: she makes me so mad! (arms folded in a harrumph)
dad: me too son. me too. (giggle)
LOL thanks for the support lol. s'okay though. mike made him clean up!

why i like mike #7

when we kiss, my nose fits perfectly into that little indentation so we don't have to turn our heads. we go together.
and for those of you with honkers instead of noses, you know this can really be an issue. especially if you go in for a fast one. for crying out loud! you could take an eye out! show a little courtesy.

funny

I've decided to dedicate my body to a medical school, and just before I die, I'm going to swallow a little plastic toy. That way, the medical student who cuts me open will get a nice surprise. I just hope the other medical students aren't sad because they didn't get a toy with their cadaver, too.
(Steve Young)

black magic woman...sorta

okay so i feel i have been perfectly honest with you all about my blackheartedness. i am mean. i am that old lady at the end of the block that everyone is scared of. okay not exactly cause she isnt usually hot, BUT i just feel like i have a hard time mothering other's kids. let me rephrase. i love them plenty, but when they are crying over really dumb stuff i just want them to get over it cause honestly what's crying gonna help? ZILCHO!
like this afternoon. i am babysitting three little kids for the month of september as they are a product of track schooling and need someone to make sure they dont burn down the house while their mother continues to provide the money to pay for said house. and on she goes. we finish school, the kids leap and bound to play in the front yard and notice their front door is actually wide open. doggy missing.
my first thought " aaw, suck!" followed by an eyeroll (hidden from the children of course)
so i investigate and find that, yes, tis true. the front door is wide open and the dog has gone to find that greener grass and probably (because he is now a free male)... a piece.
my second thought "how the heck did their door get open? they must have left it open this morning." and then i add lazily as i watch them in their living room from the front yard"or maybe some crazy person has been tapping their phones and found out that i was planning on watching the kids, learned their schedule, and has now snuck into their house, stole the dog and broke their blinds. maybe i should tell the kids to stay out...hmmm..." then out loud i yell "KIDS!!! what are you thinking. get out of that house. we dont know why that door was open!!!"
then i explain that i am currently in charge of 7 kids and cant take a drive through the neighborhood to look for their dog(YAH, THATS why i wont do it), but that their own mother will be home shortly and will, i am sure, will not rest until Lobo is safely at home.
i head inside to check my emails. and unlike our apparently unpopular pastor..i have a few emails waiting. then i notice the girls are crying.
my third thought " sigh." then a quote from the Great White Hype "laugh and the world laughs with you. cry and i will give you something to cry about you little bastard."
ROFL!! i catch myself from giggling out loud just in time to pass along a hug and explain to the kids where doggies go when they get run over. AHAHAAA!! just joking. but luckily mom pulls up and wisks them away and they are now off looking for doggie..ope, they are back with and empty truck bed. maybe it was a crazy person. hmm. interesting.
ope! off again. maybe the dog called and left them a message.
my kids thoughts on the whole thing are just cracking me up-

eli-maybe someone stole him
girls --wahh. dont say that eli, it makes me cry
eli-::shrug::well it is true. but maybe we can borrow a gun from matthew ( alittle boy down the street that supplies our boys with the toy guns) and kill whoever took your dog
me -HEEY! stop talking like that!
layla-i dont like this story very much.
me- neither do i. change the subject
eli-i am a good wrestler.


convo #2
izzy-maybe he ran away to their school. courtney said he is probably at her school, that is why they are in such a rush.
layla-or maybe he ran away to somewhere better, like McDonalds.
eli-HE CANT EVEN FIND MCDONALDS LAYLA!

oh yah

uuum i tag my friend no(dot dot)el, her ginormous man moses, and Laura? do you have a blog?
the rest of you..i am just scared i think, to know more about you.

tag? goodness. okay i'll play

i have apparently been tagged by a friend. this means i am to disclose 5 quirk seeming things or unkown things about my person or mind. havent i done this enough in my 51 previous blogs? anyhoo, then i tag someone else and they tag and they tag...get it?

quirk 1- i sang with jerry Lewis many times as a child. probably 5 or so. he was old and chubby. these are the things i remember about him.i also sang on a handful of commercials and have done some odd singing work for my dad on occassion. oh and i cant forget to mention Larry. i was a back up singer for a very skinny man named Larry, who for some reason thought my friend was a lesbo and he could never say his words unless he were about 2 inches from my face. spittle and all. sail out larry. sail out.( i would mention that i went on a shopping spree with mark mcgrath and sang Grease numbers and i took pictures of the lady standing behind him scratching her butt with a back massager, but i will save that for a whole nother time. AHAHAAA ::wink::)

quirk 2- i think my husband would look even hotter if he were parked outside my window on a john deer lawn mower, straw in the mouth, sporting a snug white tee shirt, boots, and a kenny chesney hat....holy cow i have to stop and finish this later! the children are in the room

quirk 3- i like my hair. i have always liked my curls. i could be like that lady from ferris beuller that just keeps pulling those pencils out of her hair.

quirk 4- i want to learn to play every string instrument out there. is anyone teaching guitar for a small group? i have my own guitar even. can't i come? violin, cello, whatever. i wanna learn.

quirk 5- you get dumber as i get closer to my...ahem "womenly time." but then i guess that is your quirk not mine.

conversations with Eli

over the short four years my son has existed, we have had many conversations that boggle my mind. i thought i would share them. they will forever be titled "conversations with Eli"

the scene-we are getting in the car after church on sunday.

me- get in and get buckled, son.
him-but mom, did you know you have hair in your nose?
me-yes.
him-we all do.
me-how do you know.
him-cause i pulled one out.

As Promised, The Grocery Store

::flasback segment::

Layla Grace-6 monthish
Eli-18months-ish
Isabelle-4 ish
me-the day I turned grey

It's a day like any other. We have errands to run. One including the grocery store.

We stroll into Albertson's, oh so unsuspecting. I have Eli and Layla squeeezed into the front seat normally meant for one. They are rigged, two legs in one hole and a baby blanket wedged to one side. Isabelle is walking.
I have my calculator, my list, and we are all set with goodies from the cold drink aisle. I do the usual patrolling.
"Don't take that off the shelf."
"Don't lick the cart."
Stuff like that.
About an hour or more into it we are in the home stretch with only about three aisles to go. I am at the butcher counter getting steaks for dinner. (ah the good wife) ::pat pat pat::

Suddenly, out of my apron wearing day dream, I notice a cold something or other ::drip drip drop::

What is that? ::drip::

I bend to see milk splattering under my cart.::drop::

Quite a bit of it.

"what? how did that happen?" ::drip drop::

"Elijah, what did you do?" And this is where, if he could speak, he would tell me he ate through the milk carton. Right through the plastic.
Good grief, what a mess.

I wiggle closer to the lobster tank where they provide you with free paper towels--for the dive I suppose. As it turns out they are equally handy for almost-two-year-olds.

So I get my steaks and turn around just in time to notice Layla has gnawed herself a little snack. This one is made of a different variety- same animal. Her preference is raw hamburger.

Through my disgust and her wailings of injustice, I manage to dig as much as possible out of her mouth, left wondering how much she actually ate. ew.

I notice a convenient trash receptacle nearby and deposit the remnants of her snack into the can. Just as I do my hand gets snagged on the lid. It is one of those big metal cans with the teeter tottery lids.

Life is now in slow motion. teeter, totter, teeeeetter, toooooottterrr.

The kids are crying, the butcher woman is agasp, chest heaving, and my eyes are wide as the trash can lid flies up, up, up into the air.

And me? I am spider man as I look around me, taking it all in.
Only then does the display catch my eye.

"Hello. I hadn't noticed you before."

I make a mental registry of everything as it all comes crashing to the ground. No, not paper towels, that would be too easy. I see can openers, corkscrews, wire baskets, salt and pepper shakers, thermomoters, anything metal a grocery store would carry.

Yes, it is all on this very special, metal itself, display. And it too is on the floor. All it's guts splayed for passersby.

(You know what always amazes me? how everything gets so quiet when a terrible loud noise happens.)

It feels like hours pass. Days maybe.

Isabelle is the first to speak-- and I quote "NO WAY THAT JUST HAPPENED!"
I am still too shocked to say anything. Silence.

The butcher lady comes close, places her hands on my shoulders, and says, "Just go, honey. I will take care of everything."
So I do.
I unload my children and we leave the grocery store. Grocery cart full and dripping. The Good Wife steaks warming. My reputation circling the drain.

And in my best Alex Trebek voice:
"Why dont the Brewer kids go to the grocery store?"

writer

when i grow up i want to be a writer. of anything. articles, novels, childrens lit, menus. whatever. i just want to write. and before you skoff at the whole menu thing i have, sadly to say, been in more than one restaurant with misspellings on the menu. that doesnt look tasty.
i am amazed with people and what they get famous for. some people who get to be published. i just dont get it. and then, let's take the music industry. due to a lack of AIR1 radio i am forced to listen to K-love, which is all right, usually. anyway, i was listening to a song on the radio and this woman was *"singing." only i couldnt make sense of her at all. she hit most of her notes, but kinda swooped up into them and made this noise at the end to give me the impression she was white, but was trying to add a little soul run at the end. as it turns out, that isnt really working for her. now i am fine with the fact that i will never be famous for my voice. broadway, as sad as this is for me to type, will never be in my future. BUT why does this woman get to be ON THE RADIO causing ear drums to shatter or even worse, causing those people out there that "sound just like the dixie chicks when i sing" to think they are actually getting better. cause heck, if they can sound like the lady on the radio!!!
wow. i dont want fame. okay, maybe that isnt completely accurate. i am very content and happy in the life i lead. i get stage fright something fierce and IF i were to get picked up as an author of anything i would have to share my salary with my editor as his/her work would be more than usual. this being said, i think i should get a chance. not like the peas. i mean at least as much as this crazy woman got.
to make things....worse isnt the word i am looking for, but my editor has the night off. worse, the guy i used to sing worship with is now making a worship CD without me. sigh. this makes me sad. i guess i will have to cling tight to the memories of singing with my dad for Jerry Lewis and those few jingles i did as a kid. my 15 minutes of fame came early. bummer.

*these are not Joey quotes..to those of you non-Friends fans, you will still not know what this means. sorry.

i broke my blog

only i didnt really do it. i just showed up to speak to the masses (both of you) and it was this way. any hacker is welcome to fix this problem as it is adding to the angst that is now my attitude. along with layla saying, rather, whining slowly "mooommmyyyyyy" outside the window because eli got to the scooter first. ope, now he is done, she is off and running. .....and now she is done. all that whining for six seconds of riding! what is she a bull rider! GOOD NIGHT NURSE!

my brain is getting mushy

i know all you women (even though there are only about two of you who are bloggers) can understand this after these past few weeks with the men gone. my husband has gone on a hunting trip to be an athletic supporter for his friend mr. shaun (as my kids refer) anyway, i am only a few hours into this single mother weekend and the clock has suddenly started ticking a whoooole lot slower. i picture myself in quick sand. not that my children are suffocating me, cause i really do love them so. but you come to get used to The Man coming in the door at his particular time and you really get used to how your kids suddenly transform from these little creatures into well behaved little kids. i am convinced they do this so The Man will never really understand where i come up with it all! so as 3:30 approaches and my kids start to get antsy i have to remind them that daddy wont be home until sunday and show them...again where that lies on the calendar. for now they are good. bike riding and waiting anxiously for the neighborhood kids to make it home from school. and still high from the new prizes they earned from their own school week due to good behavior. a frisbee, a toy microphone and a soccer ball whistle. i am hoping these trinkets hold them ...and me over until sunday night. meanwhile, i am feeling a little at a loss as i usually surprise myhoney with a homeproject of some sort. once i painted the cabinets (loverly thank you for asking) once i painted everything else, and once i made new doors for our laundry room. (my favorite project) this weekend's project you ask? to find someway to fit my family into our car to buy groceries as we are out of them almost completely and my car only seats four of the five remaining brewers. ::sigh:: this one is gonna be a tricker.

why pilates wont work for me (not for the weak hearted)

pilates (pih-lot-ees) will not work for me for the simple fact that as my husband sees me contort myself into these ahem..positions he insist the children watch a movie and we go "have a chat." then whammo i am pregnant again, and of course, if one is pregnant there is no need to pih-lot.
my question is how can i possibly make it through a day without "having a chat?" cause frankly if i dressed myself up in burlap and razor blades, i think he would just have to take the risk. silly boys

owed* to dylan

three days full of thank yous.
dylan, i would like to thank you for teaching me so many things in the three short days you have been here. these lessons learned are sure to stay with me forever. i am a changed person.
...knowing how to properly hold a guitar
...the new orthopedic teeth marks in my old navy flops
...that my mole on my neck doesnt wiggle
...that "my daddy is in germy"
...knowing that "my big aya has one of those"(referring to anything we talk about)
...that coloring can be scary
...that putting peanut butter on bread can be scary
...that taking your shoes off...can be scary
...that sitting down can be scary
...that holding hands while we pray can be scary
...that "my pants are wet" doesnt mean "i peed in them"
...that when you put a little green thing on the end of a pen it becomes a dancing man
...that repeating myself 70 times just might not be enough for some people
...that her name is aya GRACE!
..that my name is aya grace's mom
these things i owe to dylan. thanks man. we hate to see you go.

not so secret, aye vickie?

you know what i hate? those commercials. dont get me wrong, i love the self confidence they teach to my daughter. i mean it takes guts to get up in front of the world to strut your "you knows" in front of everyone and look like you are enjoying it. @@
can you just imagine the phone call home. "mom i finally landed a job!!"
"oh that is great honey, doing what?"
"uh. i am a model. a hand...model or something like that."
my husbands conversation with my son went something a little more like this-
eli-stops mid sentence to oogle at the girls on the screen.
dh (dear hubby)-hee hee. what are you looking at son?
eli -those dirls (girls)
dh-moving his head between my son and the tv
eli-moving his head closer to the tv to get a closer view..eyes wide
dh-what are those girls doing?
eli-dancin?
us-CRACKING UP!
me-turning the channel and reminding everyone how important it is to wear clothes in front of others, especially if you are going to be in a commercial. lol