Monday, June 29, 2009

Nope, Not Me!

Well, it's Monday. Did I ever tell you that I love Mondays? Seriously. I have always like them. A new week, a new beginning. I never have understood why everyone considers them such a "dooms day". It's just another day. No, it's not just because I don't have a "real" job, cuz baby, it's reality here EVERY DAY! No rest for mommies. But I also liked Mondays when I did have a real job.

So to get to the point, I'm once again joining in on today's blog carnival, Not Me, Monday. Gotta love that weekly confessional. Er, I mean, day when you imagine all the things you could never do. Ahem. Right? Check out MckMama's blog for more fun and fantasy. Because these are things you could only imagine ever doing.

I did not have a puker TWICE this week, in the van. The first time would most certainly NOT be from drinking rancid apple juice left in the car from an outing 5 days earlier. Because I always have a neat and tidy car, never a speck of dirt gracing the floors or seats, ever! I never just leave the garbage in there till you basically can't "walk". And I certainly make sure my small children are adequately hydrated so they would not need to drink rancid apple juice.

I do not have 2 puke-covered car seats sitting on my front lawn. How redneck hillbilly would that be? Ha.

I did not go to a garage sale to buy clothes for a child who had puked all over herself so that I could then take her to the grocery store in something other than her diaper and sandals.

I did not walk around the entire rest of the day with a smear of barf on the boob of my shirt. It is not the best perfume ever!

I did not fully enjoy myself at our local town festival, having my share of "liquid happy", LOVE hanging out with my husband for some adults only time, and getting home at 2 am! I would never do that to my babysitter. We also did not wish that we could abuse benefit from the great job our babysitter does for us again the next night.

I did not come home and FB in my happy state. Isn't there some rule about "dialing" that also applies to FB?

I did not wake up the next morning dizzy, and then proceed to drag all 4 of my chillen's down to to the turtle races and fire truck rides at 9:30 the next morning. My dearest hubby was not still dead to the world when we returned at 11.

I did not let my children go on the "water ride" at the festivities, fully dressed, instead of walking the 2 blocks home so they could change into more appropriate swimwear. I am not that lazy.

I did not heard my 5 yr old son, say at the turtle races (it's more exciting than it sounds) and DURING THE PARADE WHERE PEOPLE WERE THROWING HANDFULS OF CANDY AT HIM that "this is boring." WHAT is WRONG with you, child????

I am not totally struggling to keep myself from inhaling all eating some of the parade booty my kids hauled in. Sweetarts are not a total weakness for me, nor are those fruit flavored tootsie rolls.
I am not stoked that I have lost 11 lbs, but also not a little bummed that I haven't lost a little more. I do think that it is still possible to lose my goal by my birthday (which is not 9 days from now for anyone who likes to send presents !!)
Your turn!
Have a happy Monday!

Thursday, June 25, 2009

It's a Colorful Life.

Warning: if you're offended by colorful language at ALL, then come back tomorrow and skip this post. It's mild, but it's there. Thanks for reading.

Life with children is so colorful. The toys they play with, the movies they watch, the pictures they paint for you, the funny things they say, the joy in their faces, what they wear, what they eat, the substances that leave there bodies. Oh, wait. Huh?

It's been a colorful week. Albeit challenging. (Wait, it's always challenging. Nevermind. Old news.) Yesterday it was the things they say. Today, it was the things they... wore.

Lets start with yesterday. B-Boy was killin' me with the things he said. He's pushing the envelope a LOT, lately. And not making it easy to discipline him, either. Gotta watch that one like a hawk sometimes.

Conversation 1:
Him: Mom, You don't tell me what to do. **starts to exit stage left QUICKLY**
Me: (after the initial shock, laughing) Haha, yes I DO! That's my job. (still laughing)
Him: (stops)(smirks)(looks sheepish, head hung but cocked)(also looks surprised he's not the recipient of a can of whoop ass)

Conversation 2:
Him: Mom, I want to keep this moth.
Me: You can't. He'll die. Go put him outside before he dies.
Him: But mom, I'm allergic to bugs.
Me: lmao (wha huh?)(Where do they come up with this stuff??)

Apparently I was able to find humor in those two scenarios. Oh, if only that lasted.

Today was "town" day. Meaning, we had to go to a town large enough to have a grocery store. When Lil'D woke from his nap, I set him to eat so we could bust out the door right after he finished. Everyone was dressed appropriately, and was clean the last time I saw them.

Enter KJ. Now on her second dress of the day (grumble, grumble), she walks in with what I thought were more cherry juice stains on her dress (great deal for 4lbs of Bing cherries for $6.88 at Sam's!). I'm irritated, out of stain removers of any kind, and trying to line things up to get out the door, not deal with more ~disturbances~. I send her to her room to change clothes. Her punishment, er I mean discipline, is that she is not allowed to wear a dress. Shorts and a tshirt only! (I'm a meany, I know!)

Less than 5 minutes later, enter Cheeks. Wearing her last pair of clean shorts. Soaked to the bone.

Great! More laundry.

Now... for the real winner in this display of a million ways to p.o. your mother, enter B-Boy. He is not wearing a shirt (hey, thanks for not soiling that extra piece of clothing for me!). Only, he's purple. Head to toe. On his shorts. Arms, legs, face, head. I lose it. I start screaming. Arg. Sigh.

So apparently, 5 of our darling neighbor children decided it would be fun to have a berry fight, only B-Boy was the only recipient of the berry bash. I'm not even sure what kind of berries they are, (Mulberry? Are those poisonous?) nor exactly where they are, though he knows he's not to go there or eat them. I send him to the bath immediately. That's when I saw his backside. They had taken these mystery berries and smashed and smeared them all over his back to the point of no skin going untouched. You could even see the smear marks, that's how bad it was. Who did this, I ask. He names names, in no particular family order.

Temper flaring, they will PAY, I mutter. Ok, not really. I'm not that vengeful. But I did go tattle. Cuz holy moly that was a lot of purple, and I was MAD!

As I'm washing mud/berries/chocolate (chocolate chip snatchers, you!) off many assorted children, some Bible verse pops into my head about anger. I was thinking something more "proverbial" about a wise man being slow to anger or something. Maybe I'm making that up. I couldn't find one. Anyway, I'm thinking I need to post, in a very large font, some quote about anger.

"A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control." Proverbs 29:11

It occurs to me that if I had been "slow to anger" I would have had the clarity of mind to think, "take a picture." Alas, I did not. It would have been funny. Later. After the fact, this is a very, not-illustrative pic of the purple that is on B-Boy's shorts. Not impressive. I think it soaked in and faded. Or maybe my mind was dramatizing it all. No, no, it's that the camera didn't capture it well. Seriously, this is MILD compared to what was on his body, and that I'm NOT dramatizing because I had to scrub it off myself.

We left. Finally. Driving along on my normally favorite and windy, wooded, hilly road in "town", enroute to buy stain remover, from the seat behind me I hear a familiar, yet discomforting sound. Any guesses? Why yes, it's barfing. As I look back, I see the most intense color of red pouring forth from Cheeks. (haha. That was funny. Anyone catch that?) Surprisingly I did not freak out and crash my car but I did have to keep looking back there to double check that it was not blood. Nope, just cherries and red koolaid. On a white tshirt of coarse.
(And did I mention she is potty training and was wearing a skirt so her underwear became a kind of basket. *shivers*)(DON'T VISUALIZE. Just. Don't. Visualize.)

Fortunately we were just down the road from my parent's house, but my once favorite road was now too slow and taking too long to get there, with no way to pass the slow guy guy going the speed limit in front of me. Can't. get. to. fresh. air. and. water. hose. fast. enough. *gasp*choke*

Kid bathed, clothes hosed down, car seat dismantled and hosed down, car wiped as good as possible for the time being.

Be happy I didn't take pics of that one. Yuck-o.
Sorry, dad. There's some extra, um, fertilizer on your lawn.

Now, can I take my kid to Wally World with only a diaper and shoes on? It's hot. But she's also not an infant. Thank heavens for garage sales.

After all that, it was time for an ice cream. Or wait, sorry. A frozen custard. Vanilla, please.

For a trip that was to take 1 1/2 hrs, it took 4, just to buy milk, lettuce, and Shout/OxyClean/rubbing alcohol (yes, all 3 - my stain removers of choice).

I think I need a beer.

Monday, June 15, 2009

What the heck, Monday.

I haven't done a NMM (Not Me Monday) in a while. I am not even really sure what to write about, so it will be interesting to see what my brain comes up with as I do this. But since it's been a while, and MckMama's was particularly great today, I figured, what the heck. Why not. I feel a little inspired.

So here it is, in all it's glory. The infamous, fabulously fun and hugely hilarious, completely theraputic, more-honest-than-I-outta-be, creatively, cringe inducing Not Me Monday blog carnival, where you spill your guts about those things that most certainly did not happen in your life.

I did not recently start South Beach diet, unable to weigh myself properly, and just take the number I had from the last time I was at the dr's office, regardless of the fact that it was towards the end of the day and I was fully dressed with shoes on. This will not result in a higher number than it probably was, so that I will be more likely to achieve my goal of losing 15 lbs by my birthday.

On the same vane of dieting, I did not have a mini-breakdown after a rather rough day of mothering and CHEAT by eating a HOT DOG, with BREAD, aaaand KETCHUP! (Scandalous, I know!) And then follow it up with 2 spoons of the totally awesome caramel sauce I was using to make the Better than Whoopee cake for my husband's birthday. I do not stress eat.

Lil'D did not get his first taste of meat by finding a hot dog on the floor under the table. Since he didn't seem to be enjoying it, I did not then just wash it off, cut it up, and serve it to him. Hot dogs? From the floor? Why, I would NEVER!

I did not cave in to my husbands "need" for more of our tax return fund so that I then could justify spending $300 on myself for a plane ticket to go to a college reunion for a college I didn't graduate from. I am not that suckered or selfish as to squander away more funds from the rapidly dwindling "house" money.

I did not obsess so much over the plant placement of my garden as to measure it, grid it, and then write it all down and ask for my dad's input (the Master Gardener). He did not tell me to do exactly as I had thought. My husband did not say I was making it way more difficult than it needs to be. I did not respond by saying that No, I am just more particular than you would be. And then I did not realize he was probably right when my dad then told me to do exactly what I had thought in the first place. I'm not ever obsessive, nor do I have a problem admitting I'm wrong (or more specifically, that HE's right).

I did not find my children "riding" the garage door to my neighbors garage last night (you know, one kid hanging one, the other pushing the garage door opener button). I did not get furious, spank them and send them to bed. I would not be totally embarrassed for my neighbor to know that. She does not read my blog. (Sorry, Lis. **bows head in shame, walks away**)

As I write this, I am not letting my daughter eat peanut butter straight from the jar, with her fingers, in the living room.

Whew. Now that that's finished, I gotta eat. Oh, and fix lunch for the kids, too, I suppose. Especially since they're eating my sacred sugar-free fudgecicles. Is NOTHING sacred for mothers???
Happy Monday. I love Mondays. really. I do. Don't hate me.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Graduation '09

Then end of the school year has come. We're ready for summer, warm weather, and days filled with fun and frollicking. But we can't enter summer without graduation. The preschool class always has a graduation program. The usual song and dance bit showcasing their work. The kids generally don't disappoint in provoking a little laughter.

B-Boy will actually be "graduating" and going to Kindergarten next year, while KJ will attend preschool one more year. You can typically tell who the younger ones are, because the more animated ones are the older kids, who sing louder and dance around more. Case in point, B-boy (so dashing in a tie), who last year stood still and mute. The only time in his life that will ever probaby happen. KJ (in princess pink & polka dots), was doing ok until she heard her sister call her name, spotted daddy, and then realized "there were a lot of audience."

May I point out that the screaming baby was not mine.
In this clip check out B-Boy's funny faces.

In this clip listen for Cheeks calling out KJ's name,
and then notice her sudden shy, stage fright kind of demeaner from then on out.
Nevermind. It wouldn't load.

The recieving of the "diploma." B-Boy was in a hurry. That, or my camera was "busy" processing (stupid camera). KJ, of coarse, stood perfectly posed.

Can I say that we are so proud of my beautiful children? And not to go unnoticed is the fact that they were of the best dressed in their class. :D

Bye, Miss Brenda. See ya next year.

Feeling cheeky?

So in my last post, seemingly ages ago, I mentioned cheeks. Cheeks on Cheeks. I've gotten sidetracked by warm days and dirt, VBS and backyard squablles, lawn care and laundry. OH, and surely I can't forget my women's retreat!!! Ah, relaxation and quiet. So, please pardon the delay.

I find it fascinating to look at my children's undressed forms and observe how completely different their shapes can be. Long and lean, stocky but strong, round, petite, effeminate, masculine, protruding pot bellies, tenderonies (you know, that little inner thigh fat that's so cute on newborns, not on grown ups), dimpled tushies. I love it. I have images in my head of them all standing at the tub, waiting to get in. I marvel in their individual beauty. Surely our Creator takes pleasure in creating each one of us. It shows.

Back to cheeks. Last day of school (May 20th, yeah, this is late) was a scortcher. 91 degrees, I believe. Despite the gale force winds, I set up the pool. I told them they had to wait until after lunch to get in. Mostly so the water could warm up. They couldn't resist that long. At one point I looked out the window and saw this. Did I mention we live on the corner of Main Street and the county highway that goes thru our town? Uh, yeah. I need a fence.

To note: she did have a diaper on when I dressed her. Who knows where it went.