You quack me up.

You know what's really funny? When people find out that I have six kids and they say something about how it's a good thing, because the kids always have somebody to play with.

Whaaaat?

Seriously...you're joking, right?

Let me clarify. I have six kids-two girls, four boys-whose ages span nearly a ten-year range. Kid one is a boy who talks about nothing but video games, South Park, military history and chicks. Kid two wears her hair spiked like Billie Joe Armstrong's, inherited our puppy's old spiked collar, plays guitar incessantly and has a Little Known Billie Joe Fact for every occasion. Kid three never wants to write about anything but sports scores and thinks we should take time off of school to watch ESPN. Kid four refuses to play outside most of the time, is on his way to being a big-time computer hacker and thinks he came from Jupiter. Kid five happens to be kid four's twin, so naturally they're automatic best buds, right? Ha. Five is outside from the time he gets up till the time he goes to bed, climbs the walls when he's inside, and is constantly building things out of old nails and scrap wood. Kid six is all about lip gloss, My little Pony and Disney Princesses, and changes dresses twelve times a day.

Yeah, if that isn't a group that just loves to play together, I dunno what is. It's a nice thought, though, the Brady Bunch or something: 'Let's all go play outside together, a friendly game of Hokeyball, and nobody will cry because she lost or scream and run inside because he spotted a wayward caterpillar.'

In reality, we have this:

"MOVE!! You're in front of the TV and I almost got killed!"

"Waaaaah! Nobody ever wants to play Dora with me!"

"Make him quit hammering! TOO LOUD TOO LOUD TOO LOUD!"

"Can you tell her to quit playing that stupid guitar? I can't hear when the cops are sneaking up on me."

"You've been playing that game all day! I need to check the baseball scores...TURN IT OFF!"

"God, can you keep your stupid ponies off my side of the bed?"

"He broke the shelf I just built!"

"Hey! You can't unplug my amp just so you can hear your stupid Barbie CD, brat!"

Ah, yes...the sounds of familial bliss...

This place is a madhouse.

No, seriously. I don't mean like on TV when Perfect Sitcom Mom shakes her head with a rueful smile on her face as her teenagers declare war by placing a line of masking tape down the middle of the room and the toddler puts her entire dinner in the blender and turns it on, hysterically leaving off the lid.

'Tch. This place is a madhouse!' she'll say.

Ha.

Let me tell you about a madhouse.

The psychotic hound puppy just made the acquaintance of our three borrowed chihuahuas. (The fact that we have borrowed chihuahuas should tell you something.) They're barking their little bug-eyed heads off-well, two of them are; the other one is making this bizarre squeaking noise-while Dexter, the hound, leaps around and tries to sniff every inch of their little bodies. Sebastian freaks out and starts screaming that Dexter is going to eat the chihuahuas, so I explain that dogs get to know each other by sniffing each other, but apparently I'm not quite as observant as some members of the family, like Zoey. "Yeah, they sniff each other and they lick each other's weiners too!" she says. It's true, our little houseguests seem to be a bit on the gay side, but why did the kid have to pick today to start wearing her glasses and actually paying attention to what goes on around her?

Jeremy is wearing one of his great-grandfather's old shirts over his usual long-sleeved shirt and pants, because it despite being the middle of August, he's freezing. He's in his room emitting a high-pitched shriek, broken up by cries of "I want my pencil!"

Sebastian is out in the driveway spinning his arms and yelling unintelligible sounds at himself.

Dylan takes a break from his schoolwork to ask me if I know some obscure bit of military history. No, I tell him, but you're supposed to be doing your book.

Now Jeremy has a wooden axe that Zac built, trying to get Sebastian to give up The Pencil.

Anyway. Back to Dylan. Do I know that whatever happened whenever?

"No Dylan. I did not know that. But you're supposed to be in the kitchen working."

"Yeah but did you know that?"

"No, I didn't. Now go back and finish your math."

"Yeah I'm gonna but how could you not know that? That was like really important."

"Well, I don't know much about history, honestly. That's why you get to teach it to your siblings. Now you need to go finish working. Maybe you could write about that event later during free study time."

"Why would I want to write about that? I already know all about it. Everybody knows that. God."

"Dylan, you have to-JEREMY! PUT THE AXE DOWN!-go do your math."

"I'm gooooing, god, you never have any patience. Oh and did you know that Florida is more racist than North Carolina?"

"Dylan, GO!"

"Fine, if you don't care about a bunch of racists in your home state."

He finally goes, supposedly working on his math while informing his sister that she's a bullshitter because she wears a spiked dog collar and also doesn't care about racists in her home state. First, though, he has to stop and touch The Pencil, which Jeremy finally found, which of course sends Jeremy into a new howling fit.

Now Jess has evolved from being a bullshitter to a Bolshevist, according to Dylan.

Jess yells from the kitchen, "Hey Mom, did you know there are child labor laws?"

From Dylan: "They don't apply to chores, genius."

From a very sad Jess: "Oh...well...never mind then."

The Bolshevik conversation resumes.

I remember that I was supposed to take Jeremy to the dentist, and didn't. Oh well. I don't like those people anyway.

Random sounds:

YOU HAVE TO BE NICE TO ME!

I AM BEING NICE TO YOU, ARE YOU STUPID? DUH!

Why do the doggies do that, anyway?

So are chihuahuas real dogs or are they like a crossbreed between a rat and like a poodle or something?

Could a rat even mate with a dog?

Well yeah, look how little this one is.

Yeah but I mean could they like breed?

No!

Too bad, that would be cool.

Where's the turtle? I think the big one ate the little one.

Oh yeah, we need dog food. And crab food.

Um...who used the bathroom last? I need to know if it flushed then. Cause now, like...yeah. It kinda looks like it might overflow. I mean it might not, but yeah, it kinda looks like it will.

I'm not an omnivore. I'm not an omnivore! I AM NOT AN OMNIVORE!!

Hey...where's Mom going? Why does she have a suitcase? And what's with all the Hawaiian shirts? Mom...mommm...hey guys, now we can have mustard and Froot Loop sandwiches for lunch!

new blog

I've started a blog to follow our progress in getting real diagnoses for Jeremy and Sebastian...something that makes sense and isn't the blanket ADHD diagnosis every kid in America gets. It'll also follow the ups and downs of their therapies and daily lives. You can access it through my profile...the address is www.fecundswamp.blogspot.com.