There are a few things my customers must do.

- Buckle in at all times.

- Keep the antics to a minimum. No crying, sobbing, shouting, arguing, spitting food, or colouring on the seats.

- Keep all hands and feet inside.

- Don't litter inside the cab. Take garbage with you.

- No throwing.

- No pets allowed. Snails and caterpillars must remain in the bushes.

- Take all belongings.

- Stay seated until the vehicle comes to a complete stop.

- Keep shoes and socks on at all times.

- Use manners when requesting music selections.

- Use manners at all times.

- Stay out of the front seat.

- Extra change is for tips, not the CD player.

As we drive from the YMCA to home to choir practice and Sparks and back again, I continually enforce my rules. I am the driver and need to concentrate. I have to watch the speed limit and look out for cops. If I feel that my customers are not obeying the rules of the cab, I will abruptly pull over, tell them I will drop them off then and there and then ask them how they would like to proceed.

Once they are silenced, we continue on our way.

Cash only. Debit not accepted. Coffees welcome.

All's I'm sayin's all.

I have a house full of Spideys. Spider-Man lives all over the place. Jumping on the beds, couches, chairs, stairs, out of the van, and sometimes even off the side of the tub. EvieG loves pretending to be Spider-Man. She even staged a show starring Hubby and Spider-Man, as herself. In full costume. She has never seen a show or movie of this, so how she knows about it is beyond me. The Destroyer, on the other hand, doesn't need a costume. She jumps everywhere, just because she is The Destroyer.

EvieG got the show ready. She had her costume and mask on. Our living room became the set. The set was made up of all the kitchen chairs lined up strategically around the room along with the couch, the PMS chair, which is a comfy chair and a half, and the trunk. These all represented the tops of skyscrapers. She dimmed the lights and changed the channel on the TV to Video to get the radiating blue light to simulate night. She made Hubby dress in all grey to signify him as the bad guy. I wasn't aware that she had such an in depth knowledge of Marvel Comics. I didn't know she even knew who The Rhino was.

She called action and they both started hopping from one chair to the next all around the room. There was no confrontation between good and evil until after the intermission. The show had a time elapse of 2 days.

Once action was called a second time, the two met face to face. On top of the Empire State building, where they fought. They had Hubby's neck ties tied around their wrists. Those were their webs that they threw at each other. There was some Kung Fu, some wrestling, some web throwing, and some falling. But good prevailed. Evil was defeated.

The lights came on and we clapped. And she bowed. We were all so proud that she planned and executed this show all by herself.

She found the Spidey costume as I was changing over closets. She wore it for Halloween 2 years ago. She has announced that she in fact wants to wear the Spidey costume again for Halloween this year. YAY! Last year she opted for her Cinderella dress that she has had for almost 4 years. I love that this kid doesn't want new costumes every year, like I did. I wanted the Princess Lea shower curtain of a plastic drape that went over me, accompanied by the plastic mask that would be dripping with my breath all around the chin and upper lip area that I couldn't breathe or see out of. The toxic, chemical laden mould would never last through the night because the cheap elastic held together by two staples would ALWAYS fall apart. And your one ear would always fall victim to the snap. And it would tingle with pain for the rest of the night.

Spark Plug is more into dancing right now. She would rather cuddle the real spiders who cling to the side of the house. But The Destroyer is another human size Spidey. Instead of jumping out of the van today, I caught her climbing onto the front passenger door and repelling down to the ground. Like a climbing wall, one hand was on the door handle, the other on the door frame, one foot on the side of the door and the other inside. She tells me she is getting out, "By a-self." Fine. Spidey.

We have moved from an obsession with Peter Pan to Spiderman. There is one commonality here. They all fly or jump far.

I can't wait for one of them to jump over the banister. Because their 'spider sense' told them to.

My spider sense tells me that I should teach them that all great superheroes learn that, "with great power comes great responsibility." All the more power to them as they make their beds, clean up their rooms, and clear the table.

All's I'm sayin's all.

I can't just go all day with the Wee Ladies and then drive a couple hours followed by a night of partying. It just doesn't happen without some help. And I'm not talking about a nap either.

I confess- I needed some help to get me going and then keep me going for a full night of full on. Yes, friends. I chugged a Red Bull on the way to the bar.

I suck.

This was not an occasion that happens very often- the going out part. And it certainly is not an occasion that will occur again- Auntie Lisa's engagement. I had to be on top of my game. I had to have some stamina to get me through. There was much socializing to be done. There was no bailing at 11 pm, or even midnight for that matter. Nope. We went out. And we went until 3 am.

As the night wore on, I noticed I was getting older. I noticed I was being surrounded by a lot of twenty somethings. And they look like they should have been tucked in at home with their moms and dads. They looked so little. It was hard to swallow that I had like 15 years on some of these kids.

And I needed a Red Bull to keep going. Can you believe it? I need to take an overdose of caffeine to ensure a solid night of good times.

Ideally, I would take a 2 hour nap around 4 or 5 pm. We all know that in this life with three Wee Ladies that it for sure isn't happening anytime soon.

It felt good to let my hair down and pull out my interpretive dance moves- the lawn mower, grocery cart, curler (that's a classic), among others. People didn't know my hair was as long as it is. All because I NEVER wear it down. It is always in a ponytail or bun. It was also nice to get dressed into something decent. And wear fun shoes.

I still have to get waxed though. I didn't have time to check that one off the list. We were in a dimly lit room anyway. No one could tell my brows gently touch each other.

And the Red Bull fueled DDM certainly didn't care. I didn't even feel the blisters on my heel and bunion.

All's I'm sayin's all.

She can usually make it through the days now without a nap and happily plays with her sisters. She keeps up rather well. She can certainly hold her own and is sometimes even the one leading the others as they bang and jump around the house.

But as soon as Spark Plug is dropped off it's like the lights turn off, the gears come to a halt, and the POWER button is in sleep mode. She doesn't even make it home before her eyes close. And then I have to take her out, carry her up to her bed where she crashes for the next 2 hours.

As soon as she sees the last of her sisters depart she says, "See ya, Sisters! You are outta here! It is going to be me- and my bed!" And then under her breath I swear I hear her say, "Thank god for these moments of peace. Thank you."

She still goes to bed at a decent time, which is amazing to me. She is not partying until my bedtime. She is one tired out child. She is busy, but some days keeping up is extra challenging for her.

There is no way she wants to miss out on anything. Just like the parties. I know she will be at every one. And she will never leave before the lights come on. The only time she will miss a party is if her wingman is unavailable.

All's I'm sayin's all.

In our town, most young, active families are members at the local YMCA. There is no community sponsored family programming here like there was in our old town. So when the time comes for program registration for kids at the YMCA, you have to be there right on time, or you will lose out in getting your kids involved.

The gym opens at 5:30 am.

I got up and got dressed in my exercise gear. I picked up coffee and met a friend outside to wait in line until the place opened. At 5:00 am, I was 9th in line. People had been there since 4:30 am. I have never seen anything like this. I am surprised I didn't see tents pitched and bonfires. By the time my friend got there 10 minutes after me, there was a line up of 30 or so. The staff at the Y even tell you that if you are not there by 5:20 am, you will be waiting for well over an hour.

What? What? What?

There were even people standing in line CALLING from their cell phones to see if they could get it done that way first!

This is not lining up for cool concert tickets anymore, friends. Or to get the latest fad toy, like the Cabbage Patch dolls. This is lining up in the dark AT THE YMCA TO GET MY KIDS IN JUNIOR BLOODY CHEFS AND SWIMMING. This is my life.

By 6:00 am, I had successfully signed them up for this term's activities. I felt I had accomplished something valuable. All before breakfast! I went for a 20 minute run and on my way by the front desk to my yoga class, my friend was still standing in line because apparently the computer system shut down.

Wow.

The things we do for our kids continually astonishes me. I would have never thought in a million years that I would participate in such shenanigans to sign my kids up for anything. But hey, with three Wee Ladies, scheduling is a must. And I have to make it convenient. I want to make sure we are maximizing our time there and that we are all getting the most out of our $69 a month membership. So yes. I was there. With caffeine flowing through my veins.

And to celebrate the successful registration, I went to an hour long spinning class taught by a woman who had completed a Half Ironman yesterday.

What has gotten into me?

Next thing you know, I am going to be taking swimming lessons and making snacks in Junior chefs just to be absolutely sure I am squeezing every last cent out of our monthly gym payments.

I even used a coupon to register to become a member.

All's I'm sayin's all.

I am finding tiny snails all over the place. And I foresee the demise of several as they take a ride through the worm hole which is the vacuum hose and into another galaxy- the canister.

Today as she was searching, she found a really fuzzy caterpillar. She took hold of it and carried it around with her for the trip in the van to and from the grocery store. I told her she could take it in the store if she promised to sit in the seat of the cart. That indeed worked. She only dropped it once. In the condiments aisle. And the old lady behind us looked at the black and ochre fuzzball on the floor and then at me with a puzzled look. I simply walked over, picked it up and handed it back to Spark Plug. All before the old lady ran over him with her cart.

Spark Plug is certainly not loyal to any one creature. They are all her favourite. She canoodles and gushes over the snails, takes them on bike rides, and sets them beside her at lunch. But as soon as you bring a furry caterpillar onto the scene, everything changes. She ditches the snails and devotes all of her time and love to the caterpillar. She is such a fair weather friend.

So what happens to these creatures? Well, all of a sudden they enter a deep slumber. Just like the 'sleeping' frog she carried around with her in the pool. It took Hubby to distract her while I chucked it over the fence. I then had to convince her that he woke up and hopped off to his mommy.

Back to the point- the critters have been so loved that they change shape. They are either flattened, broken, or balded. Yes, Spark Plug had bits of caterpillar hair all over her shirt. She literally scared the fuzz off the poor thing.

Like the Christmas cookie sprinkles that I find tucked into the smallest of crevices well into January, I suspect I will be finding snails and ladybugs randomly throughout the house for months to come.

I just hope she is nowhere in sight when the long, shiny, arm comes to take them to a better place. The place with the stale Cheerios and dog hair. And the Christmas cookie sprinkles.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Update: I found a snail shell in the washing machine this morning as I was putting clothes in the dryer.

PPS Congrats to LC who won the Always Infinity Giveaway! YAY!

PPS Who's DDM is up but some of it was cut off, so I have to go in and put up the rest. Sorry.

Back to school today. EvieG started first grade and Spark Plug started back at her preschool. They were both super excited. All went well for them both. And for me.

To properly prepare for Grade 1, EvieG coloured her own school bag. This bag was given to her by Uncle Jeff for her birthday. It is made by Alex and came with permanent markers. She coloured in the black and white print to make it her own. And she was told several times today that it was 'cool'. My kid is cool. Complete with perfectly folded over socks.

We got out the breakfast bowls and cereal last night. She selected her outfit, put it out neatly, and then got herself up and dressed. She even brushed her hair and teeth. She could then go downstairs and help herself to her breakfast. She knows where the milk is.

With first grade comes a whole new set of responsibility. She is a big kid now. She goes to school all day, five days a week. She thinks this is great.

Back to the sock thing. She has to wear socks. Even with her Crocs. She says that she has to be careful of staples and thumb tacks. Like a sock is going to save her from a sharp object impaling itself into her heel. She pulls them up as high as they will reach and then folds each one down neatly. She makes her own version of a tube sock.

Spark Plug also picked out her outfit for school. She got up and asked for piggy tails today. She had her backpack ready to go- Barbie and the Dancing Princesses with their little poodle pups in their arms all Paris Hilton like. Great. Spark Plug is my girly-girl, hands down.

She gladly went to school today and barely said good-bye. She set off to play. This is fantastic and I am glad she left my side so willingly to play and learn. And to drive it home just how happy she was to leave me, she refused to come with me at the end of the day. That is right, folks. Spark Plug threw a rangy in the yard and then proceeded to sprint away from me to find solace in the play house. I practically dragged her by the arms kicking and screaming as her teachers told her over and over, "You can come back another day! We will see you soon!"

Both kids ran away from me and into this new school routine without a second thought. I didn't think I was that boring to be around. I was almost offended. But not quite. Two less to watch is alright by me!

Just The Destroyer and me. Oh, wait. She is like three kids in one.

All's I'm sayin's all.

While I away this past weekend hanging with my pals, Hubby took the three Wee Ladies to the local shoe store to get EvieG a pair of indoor shoes for grade 1. She is starting next week. He called me to drive it home that I am indeed falling behind in the shoe department. He didn't know about the mom-guilt I have when the topic of feet comes up. He was just as surprised as I was when he told me the results of the foot measuring.

We have been wearing Crocs all summer. Or bare feet. They are the perfect fit. I didn't realize I was so far away from their actual foot sizes.

EvieG, who I was convinced was an 11 is a 12 1/2. Oops.

Spark Plug is a 10, not an 8. 

The Destroyer is and 8 1/2, not a 5-6. That one is bad, I know.

You go to the department store, shove on a few pairs while the child is squirming in the cart, stick your fingers down the side and back and shrug to yourself knowing that you could fit 2 fingers at the heel and along the side without problems. Must be all good! 

In fact this whole foot thing is like thinking about one's real age and actual age. I am 34 in reality. But my actual age is about 25. I like to think of myself as young and hip and with it, as it were. EvieG's real size is 12 1/2 but her actual size in my head is 11. The Destroyer's size to me is actually 5-6. She is my little baby, not an almost 2 1/2 year old who is talking and doing things all by herself. She is my wee baby. I want her to stay little! Just like I want EvieG to be in Kindergarten forever, not start grade 1 and be gone to school all day 5 days a week! And Spark Plug is my little girl who wants to stay with mom; not insist on heading off to pre-school 2 times a week!

This guilt makes me want to kick myself. By not facing their incredible growth spurts in their entirety, I am going to give them bunions or foot cramps instead.

Plus, I am not totally comfortable forking out a whack of dough for shoes a few times a year. Shoes are expensive!

We all know that the real reason for this shoe neglect is part of my greater plan to prevent them from developing shoe fetishes. Three girls and shoes spells out hell in my books.

All's I'm sayin's all.