Dinner Time Woes

I am lucky enough to have four fantastic eaters.  My Italian friend told me that in her country we would be welcome at any table because my kids eat and enjoy whatever is put in front of them with obvious relish.  So when they haven't eaten regularly for a week, I know something is up.  If you have been keeping up on the blog, you know that we are fighting (and kind of loosing the battle) with various illnesses.  At first I didn't think anything of it; no one likes to eat when they are sick.  However, when they eat three chocolate chip cookies and then tell me they cannot eat any dinner because they don't feel good I raise my eyebrows.  That was last night.....
Today at lunch I gave them exactly what they asked for last night for dinner.  Toast.  I made our boy (the only one who ate the BBQ chicken pizza without complaint) whatever he wanted--macaroni and cheese.  Needless to say fits started all over the dining room.  Fists were thrown in the air and slammed down on legs in "can you see I am mad at you?" style.  Finally, when their toast was eaten and they asked for the macaroni and cheese, they got a "Are you really sure you want that?  I don't want you to feel sick."  After protests of innocence each girl fessed up.  Both were just fine last night and just didn't want dinner and promised to eat whatever was set before them for dinner tonight in exchange for the cherished macaroni and cheese.  They were each given macaroni and cheese--and a cookie.  We shall see if they hold up to their claims of health come dinner time.

Surround Sound

Alright, so that Golden Day I had yesterday?  It came back to bite me in the butt.  Didn't you know that would happen?  I am a sports fanatic; I should have known just saying that I was having a Golden Day was tempting the Karma Gods just too much.
Have you ever stood in your home and wondered if the kids are programmed for surround sound?  Well, if you haven't, you should come to my house today.  The "big girls" (almost 4 and 6) decided their little seven-month old sister needed to be "rescued" from playing happily by herself.  They picked her up and moved her to their room, where she started (in my six-year-old's words) "started screaming bloody murder."  Seeing as she wasn't happy, they decided to pick her up some more. 
Just as I was starting to really find out what was going on and pick up the wet-faced baby, the boy trips up the stairs and begins to wail. 
The two oldest don't want to be in trouble so they start whining; the baby, although content, is still sniffling, and the boy is coming up the steps behind me crying.
Yep, surround sound.  I am not quite sure why my husband thinks it is such a marvelous miracle of technology.  God built it into my day without even thinking about it.