What Lurks in the Shadows

Bryan worked very hard last week organizing the garage so he could fit his car inside and work on it in the warmth of the garage. He hung stuff all over the walls (we have extremely high walls in our garage) and it looked the best it has since the day we moved in. Tonight I went out there to pick Loki up--he's so old that he scoots off the giant rug and then can't get up due to weak legs on the smooth concrete floor. If someone doesn't come pick him up on the first bark, he starts carrying on until the neighbors call... Anyhow, I noticed some drying water on the floor in an odd spot, so I called Bryan down to investigate.

It wasn't a lot of water, so I knew it wasn't a busted pipe. I just thought he'd want to move some stuff out of the way so it wouldn't get wet. Our investigation led us to the deep freezer, which had condensate all over it. Didn't really make sense--it was a new freezer, the inside was still cold, and that's not what happens when it goes through a defrost cycle. It was just then that a shadow caught Bryan's eye--underneath the 12-ft ladder hanging across the wall. That was no shadow. That was wet plaster. I knew our water pipes traveled through that particular garage wall, but this was not gushing. Turns out that the stud finder Bryan used for organizing the garage also detects PVC piping.

It is the big drain line from the washer and master bathroom above. And Bryan has never been so mad at himself. We all know what he'll be doing this weekend!

Happy B-Day Granny!!!

Tomorrow is my mother's birthday, and since I will be on the road--here's an early "I LOVE YOU" from daughter #1 and something from your grandsons:

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Blood and Tears

Well, we almost officially had our first trip to the ER with one of the boys today--not for being sick (we've had planty of ER trips in that category), but for obatining a very deep gash to the brow bone that really should have stitches. Courtesy of his 2-year old brother, Tyler was on the receiving end of a flying wooden block. The amount of blood this little wound produced was really disturbing, and the fact that it was imediately above his eye made it look that much worse. It took us a good 30 minutes to get it to stop bleeding enough to put some liquid bandage on. Because the gash is smack in the middle of his eyebrow, a regular band-aid would rip all his hair off.

The Victim

So I'm sure you all are happy to hear that it wasn't something that our oldest son did--this time it was the youngest. And we know that with three boys, there will be plenty of blood and trips to the ER for one reason or another as they grow up.

The Culprit

Bryan Seacrest

OK, Bryan officially knows way more about Ryan Seacrest than a normal male should. I have heard way too many stories about old ladies who keep calling into Seacrest's radio show with their expert child-rearing guidelines (aimed at either Angelina Jolie or the Octuplet Mom), women begging Ryan to tell them more about the link between The Oscars and The Bachelor...etc. Where has all this useful, new-found knowledge come from? Well, Mr. Bryan has been spending the last several evenings/late nights out tinkering with his car. And during that time, he listens to the only form of "music" that he can apparently find in our garage--Ryan Seacrest's voice over the radio. Our usual rock station turns over to Seacrest's show for several hours at night, and I guess Bryan is just too busy to turn the dial. Anyhow, his mission is to make the Jetta's sound system equal to or better than the Denali. Who would think that a 280-lb guy could fit into the trunk of a Jetta?

Judging from the thumping sounds I heard all the way into Starbucks last night, I think he's succeeded in the bass department. It does provide a nice butt massage as we zoom down the road.

It Seems That We Have Some Skeletons in the Closet?

For the heck of it, I Googled my own name the other day. I was curious how many pages I'd have to go through before I hit the blog (OK, I lied--I was procrastinating on school work!) Instead, I found out some interesting things about Jennifer Wrenn. Seems as though I have a few skeletons in the closet:

• I was convicted in federal court of "establishing a lucrative business" through forging thousands of Virginia driver's licenses for illegal aliens and other non-deserving people.
• I'm from Kentucky. I have a glass eye and a peg leg, but they're both so state of the art, that hardly anyone ever notices. (I about fell out of my chair when I saw that one!)
• I am also apparently an accomplished OB/GYN.

Since I was at it, and because I have this sudden fear about displaying too much personal info about the family on the 'net for everyone to see (including any psychotic loonies out there--you know who you are)--I went ahead and looked up the husband and kids' names:

• Bryan has his very own on-line fan club and he is a guitar instructor (wow--almost realistic!)
• Brandon is a professional disc-golfer and was also arrested for stabbing his mom (how fitting.)
• Tyler has his own company, named after himself of course, and is a Wisconsin state track star.
• Nick is a VP at CNN International and an accomplished water-skier.

And with that, I'll return to my studies!

Stuffed French Toast

OK, here's that delicious recipe for the stuffed french toast my in-laws made for breakfast the other day--they used raisin swirl bread and no nuts, but I think we prefer cinnamon swirl bread and toasted pecans:

Cinnamon Bread (will use most of 2 loaves)
1 8-oz. package cream cheese
12 eggs
1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons maple syrup
2 cups whole milk or evaporated milk
Extra cinnamon & nutmegPecans, if desired

Cut crusts from edges of bread slices. Place bread in 9” x 13” casserole dish, lining bottom of pan. Place cubes or thin slices of cream cheese on bread slices. Place second layer of bread on top of cream cheese. Add pecans, if desired. Beat eggs, milk, and maple syrup (all of it). Add extra cinnamon and nutmeg, if desired. Pour egg mixture over bread. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. In the morning, bake at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes. Serve with heated maple syrup.

Enjoy!

How 'Bout a McLove Burger?

I hope everyone had a Happy Valentine's Day! Bryan and I didn't really make any plans because we were going to his parents house for lunch, and didn't decide until the last minute to spend the night or not. Meaning we didn't know until the last minute which city we'd be in to make dinner reservations. And, of course, at the last minute we called everywhere and either the restaurant was booked solid or they didn't take reservations. In otherwords, we were going to end up eating McLove burgers...

So we decided just to take it easy and drove around some of the historic districts for a while, took a few strolls here and there and ended up lucking out a what looked to be a nice restaurant in an upscale shopping village. Someone canceled their dinner reservations in the "private dining room" right as we walked in--so we were immediately seated! Unfortunately, the service wasn't up to par with the restaurant's appearance or pricing of the menu. The food was good, except that a side dish was cold and they never brought us a new one, as promised. Then some of my main coarse wasn't cooked--I did not order sushi. By the time I discovered it, I was almost full from eating the rest of it--so I was lucky to have eaten the good, cooked portion first. Anyhow, they got a less-than-desireable tip for their lack of efforts in serving us and cooking our food, but we still had a good time out without the kids.

I forgot to mention lunch--Bryan's parents served up a delicious meal, as always. We had roast eye of round, seasoned with pepper and rosemary. I loved the taste. Accompanying our meal I also drank several sangrias--this time, made with white wine and lemon (Bryan's father made it with red wine for our previous get-together). For breakfast this morning, we had a french toast "casserole" that was to die for--when I get the recipe, I'll publish it. I am not a big fan of french toast, but this had a cream cheese filling and was absolutely delectable! So thank you, Nana and Pops, for treating us for both lunch and breakfast, and taking care of our little monsters while we had our evening out!

Evil Boy Genious

You know all that ranting I did yesterday about how the teacher is crazy for putting a first grade boy in detention for playing "guns"??? Lo and behold, the little f##ker fessed up and confessed everything in detail to his father this morning, after I had already left for work. Daddy then called the teacher to confirm these details, since he is obviously a master-manipulator. Yes, he was warned several times to stop shooting his friends with his hands. So the little sh!t took a piece of paper and drew a gun on it. Got caught with that and was explicitly warned about the rules again. THEN the little genious took a bunch of Legos and built his masterpiece, and proudly displayed it on his desk--the mother of all guns. That's it--detention. The school rules say suspension, but the teacher actually had mercy on this devious little first-grader. She and Bryan had a detailed conversaion about how great Brandon is at manipulating people--so we're all onto him now. The evil genious will have to find a different way to take over the universe. And he will be in detention this week, and we will be speaking with his teacher on a daily basis to see how he's really been behaving at school...

And you know what? Today he brought home a smiley face--meaning he was a perfect little boy for his teacher today. Ugh.

Our Son, the Serial Killer

You know, I started writing this blog entry a few days ago to poke fun at our first-grader's sketches. He is very creative in his drawings, and like many little boys, he's obsessed with monsters. I had scanned a few of his drawings into the computer, but needed to pull the really "creative" ones out of the bin where I store the kids' keepsakes before I could scan it. Alas, I have now been sidetracked by yet again another note from his teacher.

I knew he was in trouble the minute I walked through the door at daycare. It was another sealed note. And before we even got home so I could open and read it, I had already started into him about his behavior at school. When I asked him what happened, he said that he got 5 cubes for playing "guns" and one cube for not putting his name on a math paper. I was taken aback--he truly didn't know why he was in such deep trouble with his teacher, and he was clearly upset about this. I tore open the envelope and the teacher assigned him detention. He is a FIRST GRADE BOY. He didn't understand what he did wrong at all. I understand the absolute no tolerance to guns at school, but he does not. No warning, just detention. And a cube for not putting his name on a paper. Now I'm pissed. At the teacher. I understand we've had problems with his behavior at school, but this seems absurd. He should have had detention for doing something crazy, like cutting a hole in his friend's shirt. Instead this woman drops the hammer when he has no idea what he did wrong. Needless to say, Daddy will be making a visit to the school tomorrow (he's the family pit bull). Brandon really is a good kid--he's just a typical little boy. Not the soon-to-be serial killer that his teacher seems to think. Oh, by the way, I am not one of those delusional, overprotective and overbearing parents who thinks my kid is an angel--my sister and both my in-laws were school teachers, and I know my kid can get rowdy and out-of-control if you give him an inch. I just think this teacher has not clearly laid out her expectations, severely punishes him for petty things but doesn't punish him nearly enough for the more severe things...ok, enough ranting. And yes, we do have other children. They just aren't creating nearly as much drama as the oldest right now. Believe me, they all have their moments, and we love them all the same. I'm sure someday soon you will be hearing all about the other brothers.

...The Rest of the Story

OK, so you all might be wondering just how much trouble my first grader is at school, if the daycare staff has to search his backpack for notes from his teacher daily. When I told you about the trip to the principle's office this week, I didn't tell you what happened last week. It involves a substitute teacher--and we all know how we misbehaved with substitute teachers when we were in elementary school...(Hmm...Chris W comes to mind?) Brandon's substitute teacher happened to be his good friend Ethan's mom. And in keeping with the old tradition of misbehaving for the substitute, Brandon took a pair of scissors and cut a hole in his friend's brand new shirt. The friend whose mom was the substitute teacher. And not only did he cut a hole in Ethan's new shirt--he cut a hole in his own new shirt that Granny gave him for Christmas. How he thought he'd ever get away with that, I don't know. He said Ethan dared him to do it. I told him that just because he was dared to do something that he knew was absolutely wrong, doesn't mean he should do it. (My gosh--he should at least wait for a triple-dog-dare.) So, that is one of the many reasons his backpack is searched when he gets off the bus.

First Trip to the Principle's Office

Here is what the letter from the school says:

"Mr. and Mrs. Wrenn,

Attached you will find a letter of apology Brandon has been asked to write his P.E. teacher, (name witheld). Brandon cursed very loudly in her class today. Please sign and return his letter so he can give it to (name witheld) on Wednesday. We have discussed with Brandon his poor choice of words and the consequences for using inappropriate language in school.

Thank you."

Imagine my horror opening this sealed envelope and reading this in front of the daycare staff (all previous "bad notes" have been open slips of paper). You see, the daycare staff now checks Brandon's backpack to see if he's been bad at school--if so, he is not allowed to play computer games and will even sit in the office until we pick him up, if the offense is bad enough. He told them he was good at school, and they didn't think a sealed envelope addressed to us was going to say otherwise. Anyhow, my first though was: oh, hell--he dropped the f-bomb. "Very loudly." Gee, where could he have heard this...?? We must have the rotten kid in the class--my sweet baby is the bad kid. We don't tolerate this behavior at home--not at all. So he finally told me what he said--"Oh, Hell!" Now, that wasn't nearly as bad as what I feared. Hell, they say that word all over the place on TV! Nonetheless, we had to punish him as if he dropped the f-bomb just so he knew that this behavior is absolutely unacceptable.