Sunday, January 25, 2015
When a woman with four kids in three schools tells you that her entire day is waiting for a bus, you'd better believe her. Now that this is my reality, I'm pretty sorry I didn't pay more attention to some of the other glistening bits of advice she's dropped over the years.
3 out of 4 kids will kiss their father first in the morning. But they will all complain if they think I have a favorite.
I love my husband dearly, but I will never willingly walk into a pharmacy with him again. Or any store that has a Family Planning aisle. He loves walking down the aisle with four kids in tow, wondering loudly if this time, perhaps, we should read the directions.
In order to keep the kids out of my bed, I think I need to start going beyond child proofing and laying better booby traps. Apparently, the cat's weekly hairball in the middle of the floor is not an adequate deterrent, since it is only ever found by my foot.
If you can sleep twisted like a pretzel on a small corner of the couch, with a wiggly four year old draped on you like a blanket, while your sick nine year old watches TMNT and Mighty Med, then your name might be Mom.
When they want something, all children are TeamMommy. But during a snowball fight, these same traitorous beasts switch to TeamDaddy. Even the dog that you gave the last piece of bacon to. You just can't win with those odds.
Tried out a new recipe that I discovered on Pinterest: "French Onion Beef Stroganoff." I thought it divine, but Turbo's reaction was "Dad, do you think you could do the cooking for the rest of the week?" Gee thanks, kid.
You know you've missed your calling when you manage negotiations well enough that Lego Bat man can peacefully coexist in the Loving Family house with the Calico Critters.
Nothing kills a spring in your step quite like finding out you need stronger reading glasses and being called Ma'am one too many times.
It is a known fact in the universe that my husband will walk in the door as soon as the last grocery item has been put away.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
I have been neglecting this blog for some time now. Writing has been off the radar between holidays, some stomach viruses, excessive days off from school, summer vacation, and a newfound obsession with Pinterest.
I'd like to say that I've been busy, but I really hate it when people say that. It's like telling a woman with a newborn that you are tired. There should just be a large pillow that comes out from the sky and pounds you until the stuffing is flying when you say something so ridiculous. The truth is, EVERYONE is busy, and we are more likely to feel that there is something wrong with us if we are NOT busy. And let's face it, thanks to Facebook, we can all see how much of your time is spent on gaming. We, as a culture, just need to get over our busy selves. I truly believe that you make time for what's important to you, and the rest is just excuses.
But it has not been bad. If anything, I feel like I'm waiting for the shoe to drop. My friend says that, when you are dodging the shoes being thrown at you while trying to juggle them, it's bound to happen eventually. I think she may be on to something.
That particular shoe seems to be currently be in the hands of my eleven year old. As a Mother, my role is changing in ways I never anticipated, and was certainly not prepared for. This worries me somewhat, because parents of teenagers seem eerily similar the cast of survivors from a horror movie. In other words, wide eyed, and utterly exhausted.
I am perfectly aware that things are always going to be evolving with my kids, especially when they get older. They can't stay little forever. But I'm admitting I'm not quite prepared for the turns things are taking this year.
-I never knew eyes could roll quite that way. Apparently, muscles in the eyes are developed in such a way that they roll the eye in response to ANYTHING mother's say. Much like Pavlov's Dog, the response is immediate, upon my opening my mouth.
-We have had several long, tedious conversations about whether or not she really needs a cell phone. This is looking more and more to go in her favor because I can never use my cell phone without having to find the person currently playing on it. How the phone became to be used as a primary gaming system, I'm not really sure. When I leave the house, the children are not sorry to see me go any more, they are annoyed because I need to bring my phone with me. The fact that next year, she'll go to a different school and will have after school programs isn't even on the top of the list.
-There have been a few biology questions that have come up, and I've had to come to terms that I do NOT want my kids getting their information from some friend's stolen copy of a certain NY Times Bestseller on deviant behavior. My desire for my kids to not learn about the birds and the bees from a book about S&M is stronger than my willingness to avoid the conversation altogether. When my nine-year old son came home asking a few strange questions, I knew I'd better start manning up and taking charge, even though it seemed a little young to start. Apparently, someone's mom is not too careful where she keeps that book, but I guess, if we can't keep guns out of our kid's hands as a society, why should we lock up a book? It just seems surreal, since we all still believe in Santa Claus in this house. Unfortunately, since that book WAS on the Best Seller list, there is an entire generation who is going to have unlimited access to it. Chances are it's going to make for a really interesting dating pool for my daughters when the time comes.
-5th grade math is so much fun. I've definitely lost this battle, and have resorted to kissing up to the teacher in hopes that she will teach my daughter how to do all the things that I can no longer seem to remember how to do. Hence my feelings on Home Schooling.
So I'll admit, I'm pretty unprepared for the next phase of Motherhood. I am fortunate that she is not really interested in boys, and since she's got brothers, she's more likely to just have them as friends right now. In the meantime, I am searching for a welder who specializes in Chastity Belts. The Yellow pages seems to have neglected this category.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Winter has been having a mighty fine time with us here, in Pennsylvania. Last week, we survived an ice storm that had the power out for about 15 hours-we were pretty lucky, since many had it out for a lot longer than that. We are now due to get a Nor'easter, some time tonight. Mother Nature has gone past tipsy and is now getting sloppy. But it is the second week in February, and we have a long bit of winter left.
I am one of those people who loves the snow-that is why I live in the Northeast. When people ask, "can you believe this weather?" I want to cringe. My answer is, yes, it's February, and the only way I could possibly be surprised is if it were suddenly 95 degrees. People who complain about the weather make me want to scream.
So when I went to the grocery store today, with all the other Chicken Littles out there, I knew I was going to have to grit my teeth. The place looked like it had been ransacked. One person actually had the nerve to accuse me of hoarding milk, which, with four kids, it probably does look like that, but I wasn't getting any more than I normally would during any given week.
I finally pulled into the cashier's aisle, and started unloading behind a young mother with a one year old. He was in the cart, and was twisting around so he could see his mom. She'd never taken his hat or his coat off, and he looked overheated. His foot was stuck, and he couldn't put it back down where it was supposed to go, so he was looking pretty uncomfortable. In the midst of his cries, he had that croupy, barking-seal cough that kids get when they are sick.
The mother, on the other hand, was chatting up a storm with the cashier. She was complaining about the snow, how hard it is to shovel, the mess, the cold, the inconvenience, as if snow had a vendetta against her personally. The hands were gesturing, and the Julliard School of Drama application was filled out and hanging out of her bag. The baby started to really wail, to the point where she couldn't ignore him any longer.
She looked at him, annoyed at the interruption of her Oscar-worthy monologue, and said, "You know, you're a real Drama Queen."
I feel like I should get some kind of points for not saying a word. But you know I have teeth marks in my tongue from biting it. Sometimes, being an adult is absolutely no fun.
This is why I don't go out much. It's just too hard to stay out of trouble.
Monday, February 10, 2014
-When your son tells you that you should join Weigh Watchers, you really have to question his survival skills.
-Oddly enough, the one kid who doesn't seem to eat at all has decided she wants to own an All-You-Can-Eat Buffet when she grows up.
-The whine of a 40 year old woman sounds exactly the same as the whine of a four year old. The only difference is that you can shut the toddler up with a box of juice. You would think that maturity would have brought about some kind of evolution, but this is not the case.
-In spite of all evidence of what it took to bring these children into the world, they seem, collectively, to have a conspiracy theory that I'm trying to kill them with a healthy dinner.
-2 hour delays of school mean they are still up at the crack of dawn, and we are still racing to catch the bus. I'm not sure I see the point.
-It's amazing how nice people can decide to be to you when they want something.
-Only a mother will understand her daughter's logic when she tells you she needs you to buy her a new pair of shoes so she can use the box to collect all her Valentines at school.
-I adore the deeply held belief my kids have that new shoes will help them to run faster.
-I've been hoping that things will go back to normal for so long that I've realized I have absolutely no idea what qualifies as normal anymore.
-Sanity in this neighborhood is obviously in short supply.
Monday, November 11, 2013
You should never try and run errands with a three year old when it's raining out and expect that staying dry is even a remote possibility.
Even though I've been sick for weeks, I had to run some errands. After days of being cooped up in the house, it was nice to admire Fall out in full force. Then I got into the store and experienced Christmas....
Mary Poppins knew what she was talking about. Milky Way bars are an excellent way to chase your Nyquil.
When my husband and I told the kids that he and I were going out for Indian, they acted like we were leaving for India. It could just be me, but I think we need to go out more.
Giving a kid cider and donuts for "lunch" has an enormous backlash.
Nothing makes my heart sink faster than seeing my three year old come down the stairs after we thought he was down for the night at 5pm.
After 8 hours of interminable folding, I have finally caught up with my laundry. This means that someone is going to throw up or pee somewhere in 5...4...3...2...
Every time my Mother In Law leaves, I am made to be immediately grateful that she didn't choose this time to borrow my carpet steamer.
Evidence of the intelligence of Toddlers: The only time Bee will consistently go on the potty is after dinner, because he gets a marshmallow as a reward. Now, he's bypassing the meal so he can get the reward instead. The fact that I've just been outsmarted is not lost on me.
To the person who didn't clean up after their dog this morning: thank you. I needed to clean that off of my three year old's shoes, pants, hands, my car, and his car seat. It's ok- it was only his school Picture Day today. And I only initially thought it was mud, and used my hand to clean it off his clothes, because we were late. I hope you have an amazingly bad day.