Smells Like Febreeze

Yesterday, our youngest decided to experiment with the Febreeze when mommy finally broke down and decided she had to make a trip to the potty. No more waiting. Had to go. Well, in the time it took me to make it down the hall, do my business, and return, Jordan had Febreezed himself head to toe. I have to admit, he smelled really good. Very fresh and clean–in fact, I think I might start using that instead of the usual baby shampoo and soap I normally use on the boys.

Being the diligent mother that I am, I watched him for a while to make sure he didn’t show any signs of having ingested the stuff, and since he didn’t start foaming at the mouth or anything else just as obvious, I deduced that he was fine. So we went about the rest of our day surrounded with a fresh, clean scent.

Jacob burned his first CD of his own music last night. I think I’m going to have to admit to myself that he really must be serious about this music thing. And ok, I know this is Mom talking, but it was really pretty stinkin’ good. The cool thing was that Jason helped him figure out all the computer ins and outs, so they actually spent some quality dad-son time together. I’m sure it was riveting conversation, as Jacob’s responses lately usually consist of one or fewer syllables and sound more like grunts than words, but it was time spent together, and that’s a good step.

Micaela and Marissa attempted to clean the upstairs bathroom, but they protested when it came time to attack the toilet. Evidently, there is a LOT of evidence of the presence of a teenage boy using that bathroom…and a teenage boy with less-than-average aim. We’ll save that little portion of the room for Jacob to clean. Glad we have tile and not carpet.

I snuck out of the house while everyone was still sleeping this morning. Well, almost everyone that is. Jordan seems to have an interal alarm clock that gets him up every day between 4:45 and 5:00 a.m. Not a whole lot of variation and also not a whole lot of opportunity to sleep in. We’ve tried putting him to bed later, we’ve tried feeding him more, and we even took note of the effect cough medicine might have the last time he was sick…nothing makes that kid sleep later than 5:00 in the morning. He’s trying to kill us.

The hamster is still alive. Now that I’m counting the days, that thing will probably last for years! The little rodent only came home after I was pelted with promise after promise that went something like this, “Mom, we’ll take care of him. We promise. We’ll take him out of his cage to play, and we’ll clean his cage, and we’ll pay a lot of attention to him, and we’ll feed him and check his water. We promise!” Uh-huh. How many times have the girls cleaned his cage? Ummm…let me think…none. And he only gets out on the occasion that I yell that I have to clean the stinking mess and could they possibly entertain the hamster for a while??? How long to rodents live? How long until I can check myself into the old folks home and just sit and sip coffee and read and watch soap operas all day long?

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