All four kids have taken to teasing their Dad a lot lately at bedtime. It's hysterical and they end up in giggles, which is not necessarily conducive to getting them to fall asleep. It's amusing to watch them though!

When my husband is home, he pays plenty of attention to the kids. Games, storytime, helping with whatever studying I've put aside for him... And back in the day, he changed his share of dirty diapers and other messes. The thing about him, though, is that he doesn't do it quietly. And that is what the kids have picked up on and mimic frequently.

When we had babies with impressively dirty diapers, for example, if I was the one who discovered the stinky mess, I'd just clean up and change the kid. If he came across the stench first, everyone within earshot would hear him yelling, "K-R-I-I-I-I-I-S-S-S-S-S!" I'd come running, he'd point out the magnitude of the dirty diaper, and then he'd change it. Meanwhile, I'd go back to wondering why the heck he thought I needed to see that.

If a kid was doing homework and was using handwriting that was sloppy enough that the whole assignment should be completely rewritten, I would just order the kid to do it. If my husband came across it first, though? "K-R-I-I-I-I-I-S-S-S-S-S!" I'd come over, witness the sloppiness, and then leave while he oversaw the second attempt at legibility.

If friends came over to play and the basement ended up trashed, I would just demand that the group clean up. If he stumbled across it? You guessed it. I'd hear my name ringing out through the house as I was called to share the sight. Then he'd oversee the clean up.

Now the kids do it too when their Dad is helping at bedtime. Anything they need to do or clean up, I hear K-R-I-I-I-I-I-S-S-S-S-S and I'm called to witness while everyone, Dad included, sits back and giggles.

I swear, sometimes my 3-year old thinks he's 17. Not only has he decided he can do everything the big kids can, but also he thinks he can say everything. Which is kind of comical considering his enunciation still has a long way to go!

Saturday night, he and I were sitting around the TV. His two brothers were out with my husband, leaving us behind to oversee a gaggle of third-grade girls. (Why did I ever agree to a birthday-slumber party?) The girls were playing in the basement, so the 3-year old and I knew we needed to keep a safe distance. The Duke/UNC basketball game seemed like a good diversion from the laughter and screams coming from down below.

So, the little guy was trying to determine which team he should be for. I don't follow either team, but I did have a slight preference and I told him which color jerseys I was cheering for. He promptly decided to root for the other team.

Like I mentioned, sometimes he seems very much like a teenager.

Anyway, at one point a player from "his team" made a great play toward the basket and dunked the ball. My beloved, cherubic son stood up right in front of me on the sofa and said, in a voice heavily-infused with attitude,

Oh yeah! In your face, Mommy!

He even had some kind of a head-bobbing motion going on, to crank the attitude up an additional notch.

I swear, the little guy is far more interesting than any basketball game!

Fun at the grandparents' house took on a whole new meaning for my youngest earlier this week.

My parents have had a mouse loose in the house for a few weeks. Being the kindhearted woman my mother is, she invested in two different kinds of live animal traps in hopes that she could catch and release it far away from the house. Unfortunately the mouse seems to have an IQ somewhere in the genius range. The critter manages to steal the bait from one trap without being caught, and it completely ignores the other trap. Very frustrating, but Mom kept trying to be humane until the mouse started spending too much time in the kitchen area.

Then the poison finally came out.

The instructions on the packaging said there should be results in five or fewer days. So, once the five days had passed, Mom invited me to come over to look for mouse corpses. And, always up for a good time, I obliged. Supposedly it is easier for me to get down on the ground and look under and behind furniture. So Mom gave me a flashlight and I went to work.

As my 3-year old watched me in action, he became fascinated. Before too long, he had relieved me of the flashlight and was performing his own very thorough search of the house. Under sofas, on the ceiling, in the dryer - he looked everywhere for dead mice.

Fortunately he didn't find anything. I'm guessing finding a body might have put a damper on his game! But at least for part of the afternoon, he sure had a lot of fun!

It's a triangle. Not a love triangle, thank goodness. I'm not ready for that. (Although my oldest did receive a Secret Admirer lolligram this Valentine's Day. What's up with that?) Nope, I'm talking about a Friendship Triangle. And it seems common with little girls. And these days my daughter is the one stuck in the middle, desperately wanting the others to get along.

It always involves my daughter and the same two girls. Friend A sometimes likes Friend B, and vice versa. But then one will get fed up with the other and try to talk my daughter into dropping the other as a friend. Fortunately my kid seems pretty good about announcing that she is friends with both girls, and she refuses to choose one over the other. The petty quarrels pass, and all three are soon happy as larks again. So it's a cycle of moments of bliss followed by moments of intense frustration.

One of my daughter's friends who usually watches from the sidelines got involved last week, and I wish I could've been there to watch how she handled it. She got fed up with the girls' antics, so she declared herself a lawyer. She wrote up a contract, and persuaded both Friend A and Friend B to sign it, agreeing to put their differences behind them and to treat each other better. And at least for the past few days, the document seems to have done its job. No new dramas for my daughter to report.

I really want to read that contract! And the girl who drafted it isn't even the daughter of an attorney, so I'm not sure where she came up with the idea! But in my mind, she totally rocks!

A child with a stomach bug. What a way to be woken up. Not only do you feel horrible for your sick kid, but also you feel sorry for yourself as you go through the ordeal of cleaning up the aftereffects.

Which is what I was doing the other morning at about 3 AM. And even after everything looked clean again, I must have sprayed half a can of Lysol throughout the infected bathroom. Finally I became satisfied that I had done all I could do, and our resident vomiter was sleeping soundly with a bucket within reach. I went back to bed, praying that the fireworks were over.

The next morning on his way into the bathroom, my oldest crinkled up his nose. When he came out, he made a comment that amused me:

"I hate it when the house smells clean."

Mental Note to Self: Don't Clean the House Anymore. The Kids Don't Like It!

My oldest is the same kid who, back when he was four or five, earnestly requested in September that I NOT clean the house in the fall so that the dust and cobwebs could make good decorations for Halloween.

I really like this kid!

Now if only I could get him to express his disapproval of clean laundry, then my job around the house would get even easier!

I'm submitting one of my middle grade manuscripts to the "Dear Lucky Agent" contest on Chuck Sambuchino's blog, Guide to Literary Agents. It seems like a great opportunity to try to get some feedback from one of the pros! For anyone out there who has an eligible manuscript in one of these categories, I encourage you to check out the link to the Guide to Literary Agents listed on the left of my blog under Blogs I Follow.

Good luck!

Well, it looks like it's official. We're getting a dog! I've wanted one basically since the sweetheart of a dog I grew up with passed away almost 20 years ago, but between college, getting a job, moving, having small kids in diapers, etc... it always seemed more practical to wait. But now the time has come! My reluctant husband has bowed to the pressure that the rest of our household has been placing on him! On Valentine's Day he surprised us by taking us to an animal shelter to meet some dogs.

Of course, I wanted every one I saw. Row after row of dogs of all ages, each wanting attention and love. It was hard to walk away.

But I think part of what sold my husband on getting a dog was a recent news story.

As background, I think beagles are great. I've been watching Petfinder, because I'd love to get a dog from a shelter that was part beagle and part something else. And I'd like to get the dog in April, when the snows should be over and done with and taking a puppy out for a walk every five minutes won't be too miserable.

Then my friend came across a news story about a pregnant beagle that was dumped at a farm during a recent snowstorm on Valentine's weekend. By some miracle, the farmer went outside and found the dog while she was giving birth in a makeshift nest she'd made herself. He couldn't disturb her, but he did bring them all into the house as soon as they could be moved. Otherwise it is certain that none of them would have made it. So these puppies are at least part beagle and will be available when they are weaned in late March or early April. We've put our name in to be considered for one, although I think the publicity surrounding the unusual birth has resulted in a lot of interest. I don't know if we'll be selected, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Which leads me to the question of what I would name a puppy when we get one. The kids vetoed my suggestion of Y'all, which I mentioned in a previous post. (But wouldn't it be cool to be able to yell out the door to the kids, Go get a bag to clean up the poop Y'all just made in the yardIII)  My youngest keeps saying he wants a Rainbow Dog, which a beagle mix with brown, black and white could be. So Rainbow has a neat ring. Or if we happen to get one of the rescued beagle pups, it seems like we should pick something that reflects on the dog's amazing history. Like Miracle, or Snowball, or Valentine.

Anyone have an inspirational ideas? Either for a rescued puppy or another beagle-mixed puppy? I'll be thrilled with whatever we get.

By the way, here's the link to the puppies story if you're interested! I just don't understand how anyone could treat an animal this way.

Well, we've had lots of snow and lots of snow days lately. At a certain point everyone, myself included, becomes a little bored and stir crazy. I'm not sure how people in colder regions handle it.

My kids did okay for a while. There were plenty of neighborhood kids to play with. Whenever school would get called off, there would be a mad scramble to find friends to have over to spend the night. Votes would be held to decide what movie to watch by the fire at bedtime. They all seemed to find things to do to keep themselves occupied. But I had no idea of the extent of their inventiveness until I found evidence of a new organization formed in our household.

We are now the host site for the Gerbil Scouts of America.

We have three gerbils, Nick, Caramel, and Peanut. The kids can tell them apart, but I can't. And when friends come over, these critters often become the center of attention. I knew my 6-year old , my 8-year old, and the 8-year old's friend had been playing with the gerbils for the majority of the evening. Then the next morning I found a sheet of paper similar to the ones we keep on what patches, badges, and belt loops our kids have earned.

I'm proud to announce that all three of our family gerbils are the proud recipients of the "Cuteness Badge." In addition to that, two of the three were awarded the "Cuddliness Badge," while the third received the "Biting Badge." (I'm not sure, but I suspect the "Cuddliness Badge" and the "Biting Badge" are mutually exclusive.)

I love it! You can tell scouting is thriving in our household!

I just pointed out an interesting article to my 6-year old, who has to collect current events to present to his class. Apparently there is a possibility that there will be snow in all 50 states at the same time this weekend, thanks to current storm systems. Check it out here.

This led my daughter to ask, "What about global warming?" Which led my 6-year old to ask, "What IS global warming?" (I won't get into my personal opinions on the issue here...) Anyway, during the course of our little lesson, the melting of polar ice caps was mentioned, as well as the possibility of ocean levels rising.

My daughter was very concerned about how this might affect Santa. She is trying to determine where the dead center of the continental US is located, so he can relocate someplace as far away from possible from the ocean coastlines.

Ya gotta love her concern for others! (Or is it yet another manifestation of her materialism?)

Snow was in the forecast. The kids couldn't sleep. Would they be off from school the next day? Or would the front miss us altogether?

And then I started noticing that a bunch of spoons were missing. None were in the silverware drawer. None were in the sink or dishwasher. It was all very mysterious.

And then I found one... underneath my pillow. And then another ... underneath my husband's.

Upon further investigation, I learned a fascinating scientific fact. You are more likely to get a snow day if you place a spoon underneath your pillow before you go to bed. And if you flush the toilet at the stroke of midnight. (If you're awake, of course.)

At least that's the theory of my kids and their friends. They're odd children. (But amusing!!!)

Anyone else know how to manipulate the weather?