My 15 Minutes Of (almost) Fame

     Those of you who know me well, know that I just published my first book.  If you're interested in buying a copy go to lulu.com and search Chaos In The Coffee House. You can get your copy for $10.00.  Okay I'm done plugging.
     One of the chapters in my book is titled, "Mommy+Misophonia=Maniac."  That's me!
     Well, I was strolling The Doctors website the other day and one of the headlines said, "Do you or someone you love suffer from Misophonia?"  Um...yeah!  "Would you like to be on our show?"  Um, heck yeah!  So, I emailed them my story.
     The next day I got an email back saying they would love to talk to me and asked when a good time would be to call.  ANYTIME!!!!
     Later that evening I got the phone call.  She asked me all about my Misophonia (if you don't know what that is, look it up).  We talked for about 30 minutes.  That was on a Thursday, she asked if there was any way I could fly to L.A. the following Tuesday to be on their show Thursday?  Are you kidding me!?!?!  She said they would provide my plane ticket, my hotel, and money to eat on while I was there.  They were also willing to pay Curtis for his time off if he came with me.  WHAT?!  So cool!
     In the meantime I emailed my "insider" to the Dr. Phil show.  It was a shot in the dark but I asked her if I ended up coming, was there any way I could get into a filming of Dr. Phil.  I know it's short notice, but you don't know if you don't ask.
     SHE SAID YES!!!!!  I'm about to get to mark one more thing off of my Bucket List.  Go to the Dr. Phil Show! Check.
     That's where the fantasy ended.  The lady from The Doctors apparently wasn't interested in my story.  I don't know if I wasn't crazy enough for them or what.  I mean, I'm pretty crazy!  Knowing that I was that close to meeting Dr. Phil, then having it ripped away from me, breaks my heart.  Sigh.......
     Mark my words..."IT WILL HAPPEN."   (insert evil laugh)

Chaos In The Coffee House

Several months ago, after I started blogging, people kept telling me I needed to write a book.  So...I did!  I just finished it and published it myself 3 days ago.  I would love for you all to purchase my book.  Go to www.lulu.com to purchase Chaos In The Coffee House.  It has a little bit of everything in it.  Raising boys, putting up with girls, obsessing over Donnie Wahlberg, baking tips...Thanks for your support!

Food Fight On Holy Ground

     It's been a while since I've posted but this was too good not to share....

     A couple of Sundays ago I was sitting in the church pew with my nice little family. Curtis on my left, Daymond on my right.  Then Devin, Dustin, Dani, and Dakotah. Sunday school had just dismissed and we were sitting, (semi-quietly) waiting for the church service to begin. 

     The pastor was going from aisle to aisle, shaking hands with the church members. As he came to the Coffee pew, and said, "Good mornin' Curtis.  Jenny, how are you?"  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Dustin (10), with Devin (13), in a choke hold. Devins face was starting to turn a little red so he grabbed Dustin's wrist and tried to break it. 

     At this point, I'm shaking the preachers hand, telling him "I'm doing well," and in slow motion, Dustin pulled his free hand back and punched Devin, as hard as he could, right in the face!!! 

     I was in shock! Dont get me wrong, they fight a lot but this was a first.  I had never seen one of them punch the other one in the face.

     Curtis immediately grabbed Dustin by the arm and drug him outside. After all, the bible does tell us not to spare the rod.  

     As they headed outside, I shrunk in my seat. All of the sweet little old ladies around us were snickering with their hankies over their mouths.

      Ever since our boys were little, we have taken pride in the way they behave themselves at church. They may be wild animals at home, but they know Gods house is NOT the place for fighting and rough housing.  So something pretty bad must have happened to cause my sweet little Dustin to give his big brother a right hook to the side of the head.  What could it have been?

     Food!  I should have known. 

     After they got out of class, the boys went to the fellowship hall to see if there were any leftover donuts.  

There. Was. One!

And that's where the problem began.  Devin "called" it! (Ugh...) But before Devin could get it, Dustin grabbed it and took a bite, knowing that Devin would die before he would eat after him.  

     Devin decided if he couldn't have the last donut, nobody could. So he, ever so calmly, took the donut out of Dustin's hand, threw it in the trash can, turned around, and walked out to the sanctuary...like a boss.

    That's when the fight ensued.  

     I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or crawl under the pew and hide.

     Instead, I just sat there with a smile on my face and started humming Amazing Grace.

     

5 Things Husbands Should Never Say To Their Housewife/Stay At Home Mom

1.  What did you do all day?

     Oh no you didn't!  If you weren't here, you can't judge! 

     You didn't see the countless hours I spent comforting a sick baby, cleaning up after the dog, running boys to and from practices, cooking breakfast and getting that cleaned up just in time to start lunch, starting Monsters Inc., refilling sippy cups, wiping up spills, starting Monsters Inc. (again)...It's amazing that these four walls are still standing.  Thank you very much!

2.  So, I see you're still wearing your pajamas.

     I'm so sorry I didn't take time out from wiping other people's butts and getting last nights spaghetti noodles off of the window sills to get dressed and put my face on.  What ever was I thinking?

3.  It must be nice to be able to sit around, watch Dr. Phil, and crochet all day.

     Oh it is.  It's amazing that I can do that and I still manage to have supper on the table every evening, clean laundry, and you can get through the front door when you walk in.  It's almost like I'm Super Woman!

4.  You know what would have made this meal so much better?

     Um...let me see.  If you had cooked it yourself?  Or maybe if you had to go hungry for a few days and learned to appreciate what you get and how you get it?  

5.  Why are you going to bed so early?  You don't have any reason to be tired.

     Let me tell you, if all I done all day every day was watch every move that these kids make, that's enough to make me want to turn in early.

     I don't think dads understand that mommys work never ends.  Even if I'm not physically doing something, my mind is in constant motion.  It's exhausting.

     So husbands, take a minute to think before you speak.  It'll work out better for you in the end.  I promise.

    

Cheesecake Or Bust

     There are several questions that get asked on a regular basis in our home. Some of the more common ones are;

Mommy, do you have to work today?  Do you have any money?  Can _______come over?  Are we going anywhere?  

     But the number one question asked by everyone is....drumroll please...."What are we gonna have for supper?"

     I've grown to HATE this question!  I know, hate is a very strong word.  I get that.  Well, I hate it!

     Eating is pretty unimportant to me for the most part.  I basically do it to survive and to get that loud, uncomfortable noise that my stomach makes once in a while to shut up.  

     So, a few nights ago when Curtis asked me what was for supper, before the top of my head blew off I said, "I don't really care what you and the kids have but I want cheesecake!"

     We sat here a little longer and he said, "Seriously Jenny.  What are we gonna feed these kids?"  

     We had our five, the boys had two friends staying the night and I was babysitting my neighbors little boys.  So with nine hungry kids, all that was going through my mind was ......

     

You guessed it.  CHEESECAKE!  

     Curtis went to the store.  Incase you all want to know the answer the the question.  Chili dogs! We had chili dogs for supper.  That's always a big hit around here.  It's fast and easy. 

     Oh, and yes.  He brought me my cheesecake.  Now this is where the story gets good.

     I told him before he left NOT to let the kids see him carry it in.  I was sending him on somewhat of a secret mission.

     I'm not, by nature, a stingy or selfish person.  I love to share things with others.  But sometimes I just need a whole entire New York Style Cheesecake to myself.  Is that too much to ask?  I think not.

     So, I fixed supper.  Got all nine of the hungry little animals fed.  And waited. 

     I felt like what I imagine a teenager feels like when they're waiting for their parents to go to bed so they can sneak out of the house.  Thirty minutes felt like two hours!  

     The kids finally scattered and I made my break for the kitchen.  I had to play it cool.  

     If I lock myself in the bedroom they'll know something's up.  If I eat it in the bathroom that's just gross.  Besides, my big brother, Tim always told me when I was little that if I didn't quit eating in the bathroom I would go blind.  To this day, I'm not willing to take the chance and I have perfect eye sight.  Just sayin'.

     So, what does any other mature, respected, adult do?  I sat on the couch with the cheesecake on my lap, under a blanket.  Every time the room was evacuated I crammed a bite in my mouth. Until my craving was satisfied. Mmmmmm.....then put it back in the box...in the grocery sack...in the back of the fridge.  And that, my friends....is how it's done;)

     As a mom of five children I've learned a lot of things.

     I've learned we sometimes have to make sacrifices that family's with one or two kids don't have to make.  I've learned it takes us three times longer to get ready to go somewhere than it does some of our friends.  I've learned we eat from the dollar menu, and we share drinks.

     I've also learned, if I want something to myself, I better hide to eat it or I can promise you whether it be oysters, spinach, or cheesecake, somebody will want it worse than mommy does.

     Fast forward two days.  The boys discovered my cheesecake, looked at me with very judgemental eyes, grabbed forks and the rest is history.

     They still don't know about the Oreos!

     

     

     

     

     

     

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.