Christmas At The Coffee House

     I woke up Christmas morning before daylight, so I could monitor the present opening.  

     Every year I know that if anyone  rolls out of bed before mom, we'll miss all the excitement.  

     One of the first things I found was a note to "The Coffees" from Santa on the stool where we left his chocolate chip cookies and milk.

     

 

     As busy as ole' St. Nick is, he still took the time to stop and visit me at work and leave us a note saying thank you for the cookies.

     I found it rather odd that Santas writing looked identical to my oldest son, Daymonds.  But I just dismissed this as a crazy coincidence and went on with my morning.

     Before long the sleepy eyed little monsters started making their way down the stairs one at a time.

     Let the somewhat organized chaos begin!

     As I sat there and watched the boys open their video games and the girls their Barbie dolls, I started thinking about Christmas's when I was a kid.

     Every year until I turned about 14, my big brother Tim and me, always slept in the same bed on Christmas eve.  It's just too exciting not to share it with someone!

     He always built a wall between us out of pillows and he only had one rule.  "You stay on your side and I'll stay on mine."  

     He was scared to death I would touch him.  Eeewwww!  But even more afraid that I would pee on him.  I had a slight problem with bedwetting.  (You'll all be glad to know that I finally got control of my bladder issues).

     There were times that we would be in bed by 8:00 because time goes by a lot faster when you're sleeping.  We talked and talked (mostly I talked) until Tim would finally tell me to "SHUT UP and GO TO SLEEP!"

     Growing up in the Zimmerman household, we had one major Christmas rule.

Rule:  NEVER pick up, pat, stare at closely, or guess what may be in that big box that says, To: Jenny, on it. 

     

     If we ever did happen to guess, Dad flipped out!  He hated it when we knew what we were getting and the surprise was ruined.  I see myself carrying on that trait.  I absolutely hate it when the kids guess what their gifts are.  

     While watching the ripped paper fly through the air and the kids showing each other what they got, I started reminiscing.

     Every year for about 12 years, my best friend Dawn and I would call each other as soon as our last gift was opened.  We just had to share our excitement.

     It's so funny because its been about 15 years since we've done that but I still catch myself thinking, "I wonder what Dawn got this year."  

       For some reason, the only gift that really sticks out in my head from my childhood is this horribly ugly, blue, sweatshirt.  With a cat appliqué on the front if it!  Of all things.  A cat!  I'm not even a cat person!

     What was my mom doing?  Trying to get me beat up?!  I already had a mullet.  She might as well have stuck a sign on my forehead that said "Punch me...HARD."

     That's the only gift I remember getting that I hated.  But for some reason, that's the only gift I remember getting...EVER!

     So I now know, as a mom NOT to get my kids ugly sweatshirts, and not to give them mullets!  Because they'll never forget it!  Thanks again Mom.

     Hope you all had a very Merry Christmas!

     Happy New Year!

    

The Boy Who Cried Concussion

     Anytime somebody in my house starts crying, My first reaction is always, "What did Devin do this time?" 

     A few nights ago we were all relaxing, watching Duck Dynasty re-runs.  And I heard a loud THUMP.  Then Dustin started screaming bloody murder!  The bedroom door flung open and in runs Devin.  "I didn't mean to hurt him!  We were just playing!"  Devin's always "just playing."

     Still in the bedroom, Dustin is screaming, "OH MY GOSH!  OH MY GOSH!  My head!!!"  

     I've learned by this point in motherhood not to panic. More than likely he's overreacting.  

     I went to check on the injured.  He was thrashing around in the floor, holding the back if his head, screaming.  

     I made him get up.  By the way he was acting, I was just sure he was bleeding profusely.  

     I was a little afraid to look.  But upon further inspection I found no blood, no knot, no cut, NOTHING!

     The story I got was this;  Devin and Dustin were not wrestling!  They were just playing but Devin doesn't know how to play without breaking something.  Wether it be a lightbulb, a plate, or his brothers head.  Something will get broke.

     I have always discouraged the boys from watching WWE.  For one, I think it's ridiculously stupid!  Two, no matter what boys watch, they think they need to play it.

     When Jimmy, my little brother was small, no matter what he watched on t.v., he "played to it."  

     Power Rangers, Dukes of Hazzard, Rugrats.  Didn't matter what it was.  He just had to play to it!  Thank God he didn't watch Americas Next Top Model!

     At one point our dad threatened to make him stop watching Power Rangers altogether because we were all sick of him kicking, punching, and karate chopping everyone in his path.

     So, the boys know that wrestling is NOT allowed at our house!  Which is really too bad.  Because wrestling is a blast.  But my boys don't know how to do it without causing serious bodily harm to one another.  

     After the incident with Dustin's head and the wall, I separated them and told them to "stay away from each other!"  Time out for unnecessary roughness.

Devins defense was, "He pushed me first." The truth comes out.  Wow!

     Dustin laid down on the couch and started to dose off.  He was complaining of being dizzy and light headed.  So Curtis told him he better not go to sleep.  Ya know, just incase he wasn't overreacting.

      For the next hour, every time Dustin got up, he stumbled all over the place and his eyes went a little crazy and he kept saying really strange things and crying hysterically.

     Daymond and Devin were very entertained by this Dustin.  

     After the 5th time of them laughing at him and him bursting into tears, I finally told him to just go to bed with me.  They couldn't bother him in there.

     So, we went to bed.  He lifted his head up once in a while, look around kinda goofy eyed, then layed back down.  He finally went to sleep.  I woke up a few times during the night and checked on him.  He was still breathing.

     The next morning he claimed that he didn't remember anything from the night before.  

     I finally said, "Dustin, look at me!  Why were you faking last night?  I know you remember."

     He lost it.  Died laughing and fessed up.  Yes, it hurt.  But maybe he had laid the act on a little thick.

     When I ask him why he would do that.  He just smiled, shrugged, and walked away.

      Me, being the good mom that I am, told him that liars go to hell and eternity was a very long time to spend with Devin.  Not really!  But I might use that next time.  Because I assure you, there will be a next time. 

     I did try explaining to him that if he was ever seriously hurt, we wouldn't know wether to take him to the emergency room or push him into a corner and ignore him.  

     I have learned that no matter how well you think you've raise your kids.  They're still going to mess up.  

     Wether it be a lie, stealing a candy bar when their 4 years old, spray painting the side of the house, or texting a potty word and denying it for a year.  (Yep...all Dustin) They WILL mess up!

     Guess I better go see what today holds.  Wish me luck;)

     By the way, Dustin's getting a copy of "The Boy Who Cried Wolf" for Christmas.

     

     

Confessions Of A Wahlberg Addict

     My name is Jenny.  I will be 34 years old on the 27th of December.  I am a child of God, a wife to Curtis, a mother of 5, and I suffer from an unhealthy obsession with Donnie Wahlberg.   

     The obsession began in 1989.  I was nine years old and my mom bought me the "Hangin' Tough" concert on VHS tape.  I watched and watched and re-watched that video until it was completely worn out and had to be replaced.

     That was 24 years and 3 video tapes ago.  

     My friends and I all had our favorite "New Kid." Amanda liked Jordan, Crystal liked Joey....but me?  I LOVED Donnie!  

     I loved that when all the others were dressed like your normal, everyday guy.  Donnie had holes in his jeans and wore a t-shirt that said, "Drugs Suck."

     I loved that while the rest of the band was singing and in the middle of their choreographed routine, Donnie was off by himself dancing, kissing girls in the audience, and making little girls feel like the only person in the room.

     I'm almost certain that it's all D-Dubs fault that I developed "a thing" for bad boys.  

     As my parents worried about this newfound fetish, I made it my goal to collect every magazine, pencil, ink pen, notebook, t-shirt, nightgown, poster.....that I could find with a picture of Donnie's face on it.

     My daddy did NOT approve!  I was raised in a conservative, Christian home. By a Southern Baptist preacher.  He said that "filth" didn't need to be in our house.

     So, from 9-5, while dad was at work, I was rockin' out to some NKOTB.  Mom always allowed it.  I now know, that it was because I came by my love for bad boys honestly.  I think she enjoyed it almost as much as I did.

     In 1994 when the boy band decided to part ways I, along with a million other "sisters" slipped into a deep depression. 

     In time the sadness faded, new boy bands came along, but one thing never changed.  I <3 Donnie!

     I watched his movies, continued to buy NKOTB cd's, watched my Hangin' Tough video, and longed for the day that they would reunite.

     It finally happened!  In 2008 they released a new album, "The Block."  Oh...My...Gosh!!!  

     If my dad heard this, he surely wouldn't approve.  But I was 28 years old and it didn't matter.

     Of course there was a lot of negativity surrounding their comeback.   "They won't do any good."  "This album will crash."  "They're too old to start again."  Blah blah blah!  But I knew better.

      The obsession grew!  My husband was so supportive of my Wahlberg addiction, that he made it possible for me to see NKOTB in concert this year.  

     When planning and getting ready for the concert, I was just certain that when Donnie layed eyes on me, this girl that had loved him for 25 years, he would instantly feel the sparks!  

     The concert was amazing!  I was a little, okay a lot depressed when it ended.    I went back home to my 5 children, my non singing/dancing husband, my 3 foot high pile of laundry, and sink full of dirty dishes.

     I've been on a mission since that day to get @DonnieWahlberg to follow me, @JenRCoffee on twitter.   

     I feel like, I've devoted almost 25 years of my life to this man.  The least he can do is click "follow."  

     So starting today, with your help, it's GOING to happen!  If you're on twitter, tweet a link  to this blog (www.chaoticcoffees.blogspot.com) to @DonnieWahlberg and title it "Confessions of a Wahlberg Addict." 

     Thanks so much for your help.  I'll keep you informed:)

     

     

Before Pinterest There Was Martha Stewart

     As I sit here cuddled up with my blanket by the fire place, sipping my pumpkin spice coffee, watching The Today Show, (sounds like a Christmas commercial, huh?) a thought crosses my mind.  How did I survive in this world before I discovered Martha Stewart?

     I'm going to go out on a limb and say that Martha Stewart is the Dr. Phil of home decor, cooking, and crafts.  Yes.  She's that good!  They should have a show together.  Just imagine, "She'll clean up your home while He cleans up your act."  Oh, consider the possibilities!

     I've learned so many things from Martha over the years that I feel like it would be a great disservice to her and to all of you if I didn't share some of those things.  So, here we go.

    I struggled for countless hours with the dreaded fitted sheet.  I finally got to the point that I would just, fold, fold, roll, roll, roll.  Then stick the fitted sheet behind the nice, pretty, flat sheet on the shelf.  Until...one day several years ago Martha done a whole segment on "How to fold the fitted sheet."  Oh...My...Wow!  I'm positive that I could now teach a class on folding fitted sheets and probably, no definitely be nominated teacher of the year!  Who knew?  Martha, that's who!

     Unless you're a penny pincher like me, this one probably won't be of much use.  But this is one I've shared with some of my friends over the years.  Did you know that when using fabric sheets in your dryer that half a sheet works just as well as a whole one?  Nope?  Neither did I until I heard it on The Martha Stewart Show.  So, rather than buying cheap, store brand dryer sheets that don't smell very good, cut your Bounce or Snuggle sheets in half.  Make them last twice as long and if you want to look at it this way, they're half price!

     We don't go on many vacations or weekend getaways but when we do, I learned a way to pack that saves room and keeps our clothes wrinkle free.  This is the easiest way for me with a big family and limited luggage.

     Pick out your outfit.  Example: Pants, dress shirt, under shirt, underwear, and socks.  Lay your pants out.  Fold in half length wise, then shirt, undershirt, undies and socks.  Starting with the end of your pants, roll whole outfit up in a tight roll.  This makes them easy to pack, saves room, and keeps them from wrinkling.  Do this for each day you'll be gone.  Then getting ready in the morning is easy.  You just reach in, grab a roll per day, and go.

     When I'm packing for my kids my O.C.D. kicks into high gear and I put post-it notes on the outside of each roll with the days of the week on them.  This helps prevent any unwanted chaos.  Lord knows we don't need anymore of that!  Side note:  Curtis loves it when I coordinate our outfits to match for the entire trip.  (hint the sarcasm)  He loves it even more when I refer to his clothes as "outfits."

     Okay, you all know I love to bake.  A lot if recipes call for "sifted flour."  So, I went to Walmart and bought the cheapest sifter I could find.  There's a reason it was so cheap.  It only worked for about five minutes.  Martha taught me that you don't have to have a sifter.  Just put your dry ingredients in a bowl and stir  them together with a wire wisk.  So easy.  Lumps gone.  Voila!

     Last but most certainly not least.  When baking a cake and the directions say to flour your pan to keep the cake from sticking, use cocoa powder instead of flour for chocolate cakes.  This will keep your pretty chocolate cake from getting all white!

     Before Pinterest there was Martha Stewart!  She has taught me so many things and the ones I've shared with you are just a few of my favorites.  But the most important thing she's taught me?

Never cheat the system.  And black an white stripes are only cute if they're in zebra print! 

Snow Day!!!

     No matter how old I am, when I get that phone call from the school or see our schools name scroll across the bottom of the television screen, the little girl inside of me screams with excitement!

     We lived in town, behind the Skyline Cafe, until I turned twelve years old.   Anytime somebody wanted to know where we lived, Mom or Dad just said, "Right behind the ole' Skyline."  Everybody knew where it was.  

     The minute it would start spitting snow, my brother Tim and me drove our mom crazy!  "Have they cancelled yet?"  "Can Dawn spend the night?"  "Let's build a snowman!" 

     As we watched the news and waited for the cancellations, the excitement built.  "Fordland cancelled.  Yes!  Oh, there's Mansfield.  If they aren't having school, neither will we." Salem, Sarcoxie,......SEYMOUR RII SCHOOLS!  Woo hoo!!'

     Every year without fail on our first snow day Mom just had to go "check" the roads.  So, after Dad was off to work, Mom, Tim, and Me (Jimmy wasn't born yet) loaded up in the single cab truck and went out for a drive.

     I soon learned that every road lead back to the highschool parking lot.  And that "checking the roads" really meant, being the first to cut cookies in the freshly fallen snow in the parking lot.

     Thinking back on it, at a very young age I was the voice of reason.  While we were spinning out of control, I was rolled up in a ball saying, "What if the cops come?  What if we go off the parking lot and hit the light poll?  If Dad finds out you're in sooo much trouble!"  

     During my moment of panic, Mom and Tim were laughing histerically!   

     Well, the cops never came.  Luckily we never hit the light poll.  And if dad indeed found out, Mom must not have gotten into too much trouble.

     During my 6th grade year, we moved to our farm on BB Highway.  Dad called it "The old home place."  That's where my grandparents raised him and his 11 siblings.

     We had not enjoyed a snow day until we experienced our first one on the farm.  We were surrounded by wide open space and huge hills!...Sledding hills!

     I believe it was our first winter there that Dad built us a wooden sled for Christmas.  It looked just like one that you would see in the movies.  It even had a rope in the front to steer it with.  He painted it cherry red.  The only bad thing about it?  It weighed a million pounds!  

Okay, maybe 30 or 40 pounds.  But that's really heavy for a scrawny little girl.  So, Tim had the job of dragging it up the hill over and over and over.

     We spent, what seemed like forever preparing for our sledding trip.  First we put on long johns, then came the sweat pants, then coveralls.  Two pairs of socks, rubber boots, stocking caps, and more socks on our hands for gloves.

     We had a blast!  And we knew it was time to go back to the house when we could no longer feel our feet and our sock gloves were frozen solid.

     Mom always had blankets warming in the dryer for us and Dad could build a hotter fire in our wood stove than any other dad in the world!

     I loved wrapping up in that staticky, brown and white striped blanket, and standing in front of the wood stove that was so hot it almost hurt, until my extremities were thawed out.

     So....today's the first snow day of the winter.  I woke up to about five inches on the ground and five very excited kiddo's.  

     They're scattered throughout the house.  Each doing their own thing.  

     Daymond's in the bedroom playing X-Box.  Devin is sitting beside me watching t.v.  Dustin's in the bedroom with Daymond.  Dani's tormenting the dogs.  And Dakotah is probably in the bathroom making some kind of mess.   While I just sit here, lost in the past.  

     I love my family and having lots of kids was always my dream. But what I wouldn't give to go back in time.  

     Just for one last snow day:)

     

      

The Things Nobody Tells You

     When I dreamed about having baby's I always thought of the pretty way they smell right after their evening bath.  How soft and kissable their little pudgy hands are.  How they cuddle and coo and look at you with such adoration at such an early age.

     Then when I thought on into their toddler years I couldn't wait to coax them into saying their first words, teach them to count (one, two, free), blow kisses, pat-a-cake...You know?  All of that adorable, important stuff that would keep the grandparents and aunts and uncles entertained for hours.

     A few years down the road would be the start of elementary school.  Oh what fun!  Cute clothes!  School programs!  Field trips!  Birthday party's.  The fun never ends.

     It would just get bigger and better from there.  

     Middle School was awesome for me!!!  I couldn't wait to go through those years with my kids!

     Basketball, baseball, football, track, cheerleading...Hanging out with friends.  Going to church.  Spending time with family....

     Ya know what?  All of those things are great!  And when discussing parenthood with friends, it seems that those are the events they tell you about.  

     I've had to learn the hard way, that there are sooo many other things that nobody bothered to tell me!  A little heads up would've been nice people!

     So that's why I'm here.  News flash!  It's not all bows and ribbons, cuddles and kisses, smiles and laughs.  

     Those commercials you see on t.v. with the perfect little family?  Mommy smiling at daddy adoringly, kiddos dressed in their nice, clean, suits and dresses.  Well behaved dog laying in front of the fire place (not pooping in the floor).  IT'S A HOAX!!!  

     The little brats are probably bribed with candy and trips to Disney Land to be good for the 30 second commercial!  And the dog?  I'm almost certain it's either stuffed or sedated until the job is done.

     I got my first reality check when Daymond was a baby. He was NOT a good sleeper so I decided an evening bath ritual would help.  So every evening, he got a bath in lavender baby bath, then rubbed down with baby lotion.  Ahh...he smelled so yummy.  For about 15 minutes!

      I'm not sure how Daymond grew to be as big as he is because I swear every time he had a bottle, it immediately came out one of the holes in his tiny little body. Ugh...The things nobody tells you.

     Daymond was 8 months old when I got pregnant with Devin.  By the end of my pregnancy, he was starting to talk pretty well.  

     I'll never forget trying to make little 16 month old Daymond, understand that he was going to have a new baby brother.  I must have mentioned the baby to him one too many times, because one day he pulled back his fist, and with the most evil look on his face said, "I kill you baby."

     My mom laughed!  Curtis laughed!  My dad laughed!  I was 8 months pregnant.  I did not laugh!  

     I took this as a sign.  He is going to hate this baby!  Oh my gosh, my sweet little Daymond is going to kill his baby brother!  I cried and cried.  I may have been a tad bit hormonal because looking back on it, it's a little funny.  Oh my...The things nobody tells you.

     Potty training Devin is a feat I was just sure I would never accomplish.  Daymond was a breeze.  I assumed they would all be the same.  Wrong!!!

     When I gave birth to my second child, Devin Ray Coffee.  I gave birth to the most disgusting child that would ever grace this earth.  

     When he was about 2 1/2 not only did he hide in the closet to poop, he also took his diaper off to do it.  Then said, "Stretch did it!"  Stretch was our wiener dog. Smart enough to blame the dog.  But not smart enough to poop in the potty.  Hmmm....I should've seen it coming right then.

     One day, after coming out of the closet (haha), Devin was naked and holding his hands up with what looked like chocolate pudding all over them.  I mean ALL over them!  I said, "Devin, don't touch anything!" 

     It seemed like everything started happening in slow motion.  I dropped what I was doing.  Ran toward him and just as I got to him, he smiled and stuck his hand in his mouth!  Yep.  He really did.  And not just for a second.  He sucked his fingers clean. 

     I was yelling, gagging, telling him to stoooooppppp!!!  While he stood there naked, smiling, with brown mush all around his mouth.  

     After Devin was cleaned up.  And his finger painting that I discovered in the other room was washed away.  Again, I cried and cried.  

     This time it wasn't hormones.  I was just devastated because I realized that I had a nasty, disgusting, abnormal child!  And that although I loved him with all my heart, wasn't quite sure how to deal with him.  Gag!...The things nobody tells you.

      Daymond was in pre-school the first, and hopefully only time he will ever have the cops called on him.   All of those cute little 4 and 5 year olds were lined up in the old rock building, waiting to go out to recess.  And Daymond was very curious about the little red handle on the wall.  So, he done what any other 5 year old would do.  He pulled it!

      He set off the alarms.  They had to evacuate the whole building.  The fire fighters came.  The police came.  Daymond  got "the talk" about that being for emergencies only.   I always hoped that when there was a story in the local paper about my kids it would be about something good that they had done.  Oops!...The things nobody tells you.

      I could probably write a book about these things that come as a total shock to you as a parent.  The very unexpected things that our innocent children do.  

     Like the first time Daymond, almost 3 at the time, saw someone of a different color.  He pointed right in their face, about 2 feet away and said, "Mommy, what color is that man?"

     Or the time Daymonds Sunday School teacher, Tina Terry asked the class if anyone had a song that they wanted to sing.  And Daymond raised his hand and requested, "She Thinks My Tractors Sexy."  NOT one of my prouder moments.

     Or when Devin was 4-ish and he was very shy.  When someone would talk to him in public.  Instead of responding with a smile or not responding at all.  He hissed like a cat.  Oh my gosh!  I have "the weird kid" that nobody wants to see coming!

     I didn't even know how to apologize for his behavior.  "I'm so sorry.  My kitty's having a bad day."  Oh my....The things nobody tells you.

     There's always the time that Devin peed in a Mt. Dew bottle and told 3 year old Dustin to drink it....and he did!

     Or when sweet little Gracie Ogle told Devin his hair cut was cute and it embarrassed him so he blurted out, "I think you're ugly!" I was just glad he learned to use his words instead of hissing!  Yaaay!

     Or the night I woke up to the sound of liquid running and one of my boys, I won't name names, was sleep walking and came into my bedroom and peed in my rocking chair. Because it looks like a toilet!?  Who knows?

     I haven't even started on the girls.  I caught Dani, 7 kissing our little neighbor boy, 5 through the fence in the back yard.  Who knew?  Oh yeah, I did.  But I want my kids to be different.  

     They're so curious at such an early age.  Dr. Phil says its "normal" and "natural."  I say it's creepy!...The things nobody tells you.

      I'm just giving some insight to those of you who are just starting down this path in life.

     Never ever say, "My kid will NEVER do this or that" because, mark my words.  They will poop, finger paint, then eat the leftovers!