I was on Pinterest the other day and saw a pin about picking the best jeans for your body. And really, who doesn't want to look their best in jeans? I immediately opened the post and soon realized that it was a series of posts. After reading them all, I would like to take this time to make a confession. Apparently, I'm wearing "Gateway" mom jeans. That's right folks. Apparently, Old Navy sells gateway mom jeans. Are you as shocked as I am? So now instead of worrying about a few cigarettes leading to being a crack addict, we now have to worry about Old Navy jeans leading to high-waisted, light blue mom jeans? Really? And here's the sad part....I just started wearing Old Navy jeans and really like them. They have several fits but apparently the pocket placement is wrong. Pocket placement - yes, you need to measure from the side and back. Going jeans shopping is stressful enough, now I need to take a tape measure and an assistant?
This leads me to my next point - non-Mom jeans. I don't consider the jeans I wear to be Mom Jeans. I even googled it and along with several SNL skits, according to Wikipedia, Mom jeans are considered to be both unfashionable, and unflattering to the wearer's
bodyshape. This style usually consists of a high waist (rising above the
belly button),
making the buttocks appear disproportionately longer, larger, and
flatter than they otherwise might. It also tends to have excess space in
the zipper/crotch and leg areas. The jeans are usually in a solid,
light-blue color, with no form of stone washing or fading. Other attributes of the style often seen are pleats,
tapered legs, and elastic waistbands. Yes, mom jeans are part of wikipedia. My jeans do not fit that description at all so I felt like I was in the safe zone. In fact, my buttocks may appear larger but flatter it is not! Even the jeans my mom wears don't look like Mom jeans to me. And...if you go in Forever 21, they have a TON of high waisted jeans and shorts right now!
I digress, back to the non-Mom jeans. What about the moms wearing the ultra butt bedazzled, low ride jeans? Is that more acceptable? Don't get me wrong, if you can rock the look, then do it. But at what point is it wrong? At what point do we say, "Ok, my butt does not need to be this bedazzled to get groceries?" At what point do you stop buying the same jeans as your daughter and move on the the mom jeans? And what about your son's friends that are seeing your navel and possibly your butt crack? If I could pull off that look, then maybe I would be saying - um never.
I guess since I am a mom, wearing mom jeans is acceptable. Just like wearing bedazzled jeans is acceptable for others. It's all about what you feel looks best on you regardless of pocket placement. As moms, we are judged on so many things already. Can't we just leave jeans out of it? Until that day comes, I'll stick with my gateway jeans from Old Navy and just hope it doesn't lead to Wranglers from Farm and Fleet. (not that there's anything wrong with those either!)
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Here we go again....
I was getting ready to blog today because I know you've all missed me and realized I didn't really have a lot to blog about. Sure I could tell you about our trip to Disney and how we drove 21 hours. I could tell you how we were driving through Nashville and my husband told my daughter that Taylor Swift lived there and she was snotty to him so I said "We are never, ever, ever driving on vacation again." Or I could tell you how the dog had something 8 inches long hanging from her butt yesterday and I almost puked. Luckily, my son spotted it before she came in the house. He dry heaved a few times but closed the door in time to keep her out. I'm pretty sure it was part of her intestines that are now somewhere in the front yard. She seems fine though so I won't blog about that.
I scrolled through some old blogs and saw the one I wrote last May about the start of summer. I would write about summer again but it would be the same thing so just go back and read that one. I decided that since I'm cry babying about entertaining my kids for a brief 80+ days, I'd instead write about the people who have had to spend the past 1300+ hours with these kids....the teachers! For my teacher friends who are now scared that I'm going to spill the beans on some funny story about you - don't fret. This post is all about thankfulness.
I'm thankful that my kids have had amazing teachers so far. I have loved every single one of them. Because let's face it, my kids have some quirks. From my daughter puking every day until 2nd grade to my son's stories and his know it all attitude...our teachers have had their work cut out for them.
Back when I was in college, my major was Elementary Education. I didn't get my degree in that because I think God knew I would end up in jail. Now when I help out on field trips or class parties, I know I could never do it. I spend a lot of time at our school as a volunteer and have witnessed our amazing teachers in action. I love that I can go for the "fun" parts and then leave.
Teachers are not only shaping the minds of our children, they are doing so much more. They are teaching, disciplining, loving, nurturing, and so on. And those are the good things! They are also dealing with the crazies...yes...the parents! They are buying supplies for the kids that don't have any. They are running home over lunch to get a blue t-shirt for the girl who forgot to wear her's for spirit day. They are spending their own money to make our Mother's Day gifts! They are dealing with every snotty nose in the class and the kid who doesn't cover his mouth. They are teaching the kid who pees his pants. They are hugging the kid that annoys them. They are dealing with HEAD LICE! That right there is a deal breaker for me! They give and expect nothing back.
They have students they love that become their "own kids" for those 1300+ hours every year. They give them the hugs they need when we aren't there and they are having a bad day. They wipe away their tears when they fall on the play ground. And that kid that your son or daughter comes home complaining about, yeah - they are dealing with that little punk too. This is all in addition to teaching your child everything.
I know I could never home school my children. I'm thankful that we have amazing teachers to handle that large task for me. I love that my kids have the social interactions they need. I love that I can send them to that big brick building for 1300+ hours every year and know that they are in a happy and loving environment. I love that our community is fortunate enough to have such a wonderful school district and that I can be a part of it as a parent.
So as summer break starts today, I won't complain about how my kids are driving me crazy already. I won't post about the drama of taking two to the store with me and being rammed in the back of the ankles with tomato cages my son insisted on carrying. I won't talk about the dressing room episode at Target with my daughter who wanted short shorts. Instead, I will cherish these next 80+ days with my kids before I send them off to meet their next teacher. I'll wonder all summer about who they will have next year because let's face it, it matters more to me than them. When they start to act bratty, I'll think of the teachers that have to endure even brattier kids on a daily basis from August until May.
When you see a teacher out this summer with a huge smile on his/her face, tell them thank you. Because even though your kids are home with you, they are already planning for the next school year.
I scrolled through some old blogs and saw the one I wrote last May about the start of summer. I would write about summer again but it would be the same thing so just go back and read that one. I decided that since I'm cry babying about entertaining my kids for a brief 80+ days, I'd instead write about the people who have had to spend the past 1300+ hours with these kids....the teachers! For my teacher friends who are now scared that I'm going to spill the beans on some funny story about you - don't fret. This post is all about thankfulness.
I'm thankful that my kids have had amazing teachers so far. I have loved every single one of them. Because let's face it, my kids have some quirks. From my daughter puking every day until 2nd grade to my son's stories and his know it all attitude...our teachers have had their work cut out for them.
Back when I was in college, my major was Elementary Education. I didn't get my degree in that because I think God knew I would end up in jail. Now when I help out on field trips or class parties, I know I could never do it. I spend a lot of time at our school as a volunteer and have witnessed our amazing teachers in action. I love that I can go for the "fun" parts and then leave.
Teachers are not only shaping the minds of our children, they are doing so much more. They are teaching, disciplining, loving, nurturing, and so on. And those are the good things! They are also dealing with the crazies...yes...the parents! They are buying supplies for the kids that don't have any. They are running home over lunch to get a blue t-shirt for the girl who forgot to wear her's for spirit day. They are spending their own money to make our Mother's Day gifts! They are dealing with every snotty nose in the class and the kid who doesn't cover his mouth. They are teaching the kid who pees his pants. They are hugging the kid that annoys them. They are dealing with HEAD LICE! That right there is a deal breaker for me! They give and expect nothing back.
They have students they love that become their "own kids" for those 1300+ hours every year. They give them the hugs they need when we aren't there and they are having a bad day. They wipe away their tears when they fall on the play ground. And that kid that your son or daughter comes home complaining about, yeah - they are dealing with that little punk too. This is all in addition to teaching your child everything.
I know I could never home school my children. I'm thankful that we have amazing teachers to handle that large task for me. I love that my kids have the social interactions they need. I love that I can send them to that big brick building for 1300+ hours every year and know that they are in a happy and loving environment. I love that our community is fortunate enough to have such a wonderful school district and that I can be a part of it as a parent.
So as summer break starts today, I won't complain about how my kids are driving me crazy already. I won't post about the drama of taking two to the store with me and being rammed in the back of the ankles with tomato cages my son insisted on carrying. I won't talk about the dressing room episode at Target with my daughter who wanted short shorts. Instead, I will cherish these next 80+ days with my kids before I send them off to meet their next teacher. I'll wonder all summer about who they will have next year because let's face it, it matters more to me than them. When they start to act bratty, I'll think of the teachers that have to endure even brattier kids on a daily basis from August until May.
When you see a teacher out this summer with a huge smile on his/her face, tell them thank you. Because even though your kids are home with you, they are already planning for the next school year.
Friday, December 14, 2012
The Morning Rush
It's 7:40 and I'm already ready to go back to bed. Have you ever had one of those mornings? Why is it, that regardless of what time we get up, the last 10 minutes before the bus comes turns into an Olympic event? Shoes are flying, people (me) are yelling, back packs are zipped in a frenzy.
Today was one of "those" mornings! The kids get on the bus at 7:30. Waking them up at 6:30 gives them an hour. One whole hour. 60 minutes to put on clothes and eat breakfast. Sounds easy enough right? On the occasional morning, it all goes down fine. However, on most mornings, not so much. This morning was a rough one.
The kids were tired, it's been a long, busy week. Usually one of them will cry but I can count on the other to be good and get ready. But when tears are shed by both, it's never pretty. Both needed "just 5 more minutes" in bed. Both ended up taking 20 more minutes despite my constant nagging. My son couldn't get up because his legs were too cold. My daughter couldn't get up because she was just exhausted. Tears started to flow and I started to wonder if mimosa ingredients were in the house.
It's now 7:05. My husband does his morning rounds of goodbye kisses before the lucky bastard gets to escape for what is about to become an extremely dramatic event. My son is still laying in his loft bed which is way too high to physically drag him from. My daughter's hair is beyond frizzy and there's no way we have time to straighten it which leads to an Academy Award performance on her part. I'm still yelling like a mad woman. We are now down to 20 some minutes to get them out the door or my pajama clad body would be taking them to school.
They finally get moving. Clothes are slowly being put on. I'm not too worried about my son because he runs all the way to the bus stop every morning regardless of how much time he has to get there. It's 7:20 and breakfast is being shoveled in. Lunches are packed and then repacked and things are moving along. All that's left to do is brush their teeth and send them on their way. I start to smile as I think about not having to leave the warm house. And then all hell breaks lose.....
Buddy, our Elf on the Shelf, has been spotted! He was in the kleenex box which sits on the back of the toilet. Well there was no way that my son was going to go pee with that creepy Elf staring at him. Of course, he can't move the Elf because Buddy will lose his magic. I go in and move the kleenex box and silently curse Buddy's "handler".
It's now 7:25. The boy is furiously brushing his teeth. My girl has taken her toothbrush back to my bathroom so I assume she's brushing her teeth. Of all days, my son has decided to take interest in his oral hygiene. Of course, on a normal day, this would have thrilled me. However, when you are 3 minutes from the bus coming, I don't have time for him to set his tooth timer and decide he's going to finally start using his Smart Rinse. Also, his gargling skills usually end up making his cough/gag and now there's a mess to clean up and he needs a new shirt.
It's now 7:28. I shove my son out the door with a quick kiss and "have a good day" and he's off.
One down and one to go.
My daughter comes sashaying down the hallway. I rush her along and apparently, she still hasn't brushed her teeth. Being the "mom of the year" and all, I hand her a piece of gum and send her on her way. Yes, it was a stellar parenting moment. Don't judge people. I'll make her brush twice tonight.
Both made it to the bus on time. At least I'm assuming they did because I closed the garage and no one came pounding on the door 5 minutes later. Yes, I could have taken them to school. That only buys us 10 extra minutes though. Sure, it would have guaranteed clean teeth but I like to think that I'm teaching them about real life folks....you know, deadlines, responsibility, etc. Yes, I'm incredibly blessed that I get to stay in my pajamas and can just send them out the door. I do not envy working moms who not only have to get their kids out the door, but also themselves and head to a day full of work. If I ever go back to work, I think my hours would have me leaving before the kids even had to get up! But then again, my kids get their love of sleep from me, so maybe that wouldn't work either.
So all that being said, I would consider this morning a success. While that may be shocking to all of you, no one got grounded or had privileges taken away. Success. Both kids left with dry eyes, no tears. Success. They made it to the bus. Success. Both had a hot breakfast, didn't have to eat on the way to the bus. Success. One had clean teeth. Success (at least in my book). I'll take these small successes as they come. After all, if this morning was an Olympic Event, we may not have gotten the gold but we still made it past the finish line.
And now I'm off to clean up Smart Rinse from the sink and counter. And mirror.
Today was one of "those" mornings! The kids get on the bus at 7:30. Waking them up at 6:30 gives them an hour. One whole hour. 60 minutes to put on clothes and eat breakfast. Sounds easy enough right? On the occasional morning, it all goes down fine. However, on most mornings, not so much. This morning was a rough one.
The kids were tired, it's been a long, busy week. Usually one of them will cry but I can count on the other to be good and get ready. But when tears are shed by both, it's never pretty. Both needed "just 5 more minutes" in bed. Both ended up taking 20 more minutes despite my constant nagging. My son couldn't get up because his legs were too cold. My daughter couldn't get up because she was just exhausted. Tears started to flow and I started to wonder if mimosa ingredients were in the house.
It's now 7:05. My husband does his morning rounds of goodbye kisses before the lucky bastard gets to escape for what is about to become an extremely dramatic event. My son is still laying in his loft bed which is way too high to physically drag him from. My daughter's hair is beyond frizzy and there's no way we have time to straighten it which leads to an Academy Award performance on her part. I'm still yelling like a mad woman. We are now down to 20 some minutes to get them out the door or my pajama clad body would be taking them to school.
They finally get moving. Clothes are slowly being put on. I'm not too worried about my son because he runs all the way to the bus stop every morning regardless of how much time he has to get there. It's 7:20 and breakfast is being shoveled in. Lunches are packed and then repacked and things are moving along. All that's left to do is brush their teeth and send them on their way. I start to smile as I think about not having to leave the warm house. And then all hell breaks lose.....
Buddy, our Elf on the Shelf, has been spotted! He was in the kleenex box which sits on the back of the toilet. Well there was no way that my son was going to go pee with that creepy Elf staring at him. Of course, he can't move the Elf because Buddy will lose his magic. I go in and move the kleenex box and silently curse Buddy's "handler".
It's now 7:25. The boy is furiously brushing his teeth. My girl has taken her toothbrush back to my bathroom so I assume she's brushing her teeth. Of all days, my son has decided to take interest in his oral hygiene. Of course, on a normal day, this would have thrilled me. However, when you are 3 minutes from the bus coming, I don't have time for him to set his tooth timer and decide he's going to finally start using his Smart Rinse. Also, his gargling skills usually end up making his cough/gag and now there's a mess to clean up and he needs a new shirt.
It's now 7:28. I shove my son out the door with a quick kiss and "have a good day" and he's off.
One down and one to go.
My daughter comes sashaying down the hallway. I rush her along and apparently, she still hasn't brushed her teeth. Being the "mom of the year" and all, I hand her a piece of gum and send her on her way. Yes, it was a stellar parenting moment. Don't judge people. I'll make her brush twice tonight.
Both made it to the bus on time. At least I'm assuming they did because I closed the garage and no one came pounding on the door 5 minutes later. Yes, I could have taken them to school. That only buys us 10 extra minutes though. Sure, it would have guaranteed clean teeth but I like to think that I'm teaching them about real life folks....you know, deadlines, responsibility, etc. Yes, I'm incredibly blessed that I get to stay in my pajamas and can just send them out the door. I do not envy working moms who not only have to get their kids out the door, but also themselves and head to a day full of work. If I ever go back to work, I think my hours would have me leaving before the kids even had to get up! But then again, my kids get their love of sleep from me, so maybe that wouldn't work either.
So all that being said, I would consider this morning a success. While that may be shocking to all of you, no one got grounded or had privileges taken away. Success. Both kids left with dry eyes, no tears. Success. They made it to the bus. Success. Both had a hot breakfast, didn't have to eat on the way to the bus. Success. One had clean teeth. Success (at least in my book). I'll take these small successes as they come. After all, if this morning was an Olympic Event, we may not have gotten the gold but we still made it past the finish line.
And now I'm off to clean up Smart Rinse from the sink and counter. And mirror.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Axl Rose had it right....
The past few days have been challenging for me as a parent. Everything worked out fine but I find myself always wondering how much I'm screwing these kids up? Really, as a parent, do you ever catch yourself thinking "oh crap!" I do. Sometimes on a daily basis.
When our kids are little, we are told to trust our instincts. Sure, if my child has a temperature, my instinct is to give her medicine or take her to the doctor. Or if they fall down, instincts have you kissing their boo boo and telling them everything will be alright. But at what point do you have to take a minute and question those same instincts? Like when your middle school daughter comes home with hurt feelings over something a nasty girl said to her? Do you trust your instincts and go tell the little snot off at recess? Um, no. What I really wanted to say to my daughter was "That girl is a little beotch and karma is gonna get her" but as a parent, I held my "instincts" in.
While raising children, we make a lot of mistakes. Luckily, all the ones we make while they are babies, they aren't going to remember. Your child isn't going to remember the time he had a blow out diaper and you almost puked, so you just cut the onsie off of him and threw it away. He won't remember the time you cut his little toe nail too short and you were sure he was gonna bleed out so you stuck his toe in a bowl of flour so it would "clot" faster because that's what the vet told you to do with your dog. She won't remember the time you got a rubber band stuck in her hair so you had to cut a small section out and pray her curls would cover it. But she will remember how you react when she's 11 and her feeling are hurt. She'll remember the words you said to make her feel better and the way you hugged her and let her cry it out while you tried to hold in your own tears because you hate to see her so disappointed.
People say actions speak louder than words but they forget to tell you that words often hurt much worse than actions. My parenting instincts kick in and I want to make everything better for my kids. But does solving all their problems for them really help them in the long run. Sure, we both probably would have felt better if we told that girl off, but luckily, we didn't. There were actually several things I wanted to do but I did nothing. I was patient and just hoped that it would work it self out. I trusted my instincts that I had raised my daughter well enough that she would be able to handle the situation herself. And you know what, she did.
So I guess when Axl Rose sang his G&R hit song and said "Woman take it slow, and it'll work itself out fine...all we need is a little patience" he may have knew what he was talking about. But I will trust my instincts not to take any other parenting advice from him.
When our kids are little, we are told to trust our instincts. Sure, if my child has a temperature, my instinct is to give her medicine or take her to the doctor. Or if they fall down, instincts have you kissing their boo boo and telling them everything will be alright. But at what point do you have to take a minute and question those same instincts? Like when your middle school daughter comes home with hurt feelings over something a nasty girl said to her? Do you trust your instincts and go tell the little snot off at recess? Um, no. What I really wanted to say to my daughter was "That girl is a little beotch and karma is gonna get her" but as a parent, I held my "instincts" in.
While raising children, we make a lot of mistakes. Luckily, all the ones we make while they are babies, they aren't going to remember. Your child isn't going to remember the time he had a blow out diaper and you almost puked, so you just cut the onsie off of him and threw it away. He won't remember the time you cut his little toe nail too short and you were sure he was gonna bleed out so you stuck his toe in a bowl of flour so it would "clot" faster because that's what the vet told you to do with your dog. She won't remember the time you got a rubber band stuck in her hair so you had to cut a small section out and pray her curls would cover it. But she will remember how you react when she's 11 and her feeling are hurt. She'll remember the words you said to make her feel better and the way you hugged her and let her cry it out while you tried to hold in your own tears because you hate to see her so disappointed.
People say actions speak louder than words but they forget to tell you that words often hurt much worse than actions. My parenting instincts kick in and I want to make everything better for my kids. But does solving all their problems for them really help them in the long run. Sure, we both probably would have felt better if we told that girl off, but luckily, we didn't. There were actually several things I wanted to do but I did nothing. I was patient and just hoped that it would work it self out. I trusted my instincts that I had raised my daughter well enough that she would be able to handle the situation herself. And you know what, she did.
So I guess when Axl Rose sang his G&R hit song and said "Woman take it slow, and it'll work itself out fine...all we need is a little patience" he may have knew what he was talking about. But I will trust my instincts not to take any other parenting advice from him.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
I.K.E.
We have this nickname at our house for the husband. Actually, my father in law came up with it, so this trait has been going on for some time. We like to call him Ike which is short for I Know Everything. For those that know my husband, you are all shaking your head yes and thinking..hmmm, yeah, I get that.
Now my husband is an amazing man. He's generous and kind and funny. And he's always right. I love seeing my son grow up and have all these wonderful characteristics coming through. He is very much like his dad and he too, is always right. Which means I am pretty much always wrong. Even when I know I'm right, my son is so convinced that he's right, he can sometimes even convince me.
Yesterday we were playing outside and I was picking up the 547 piles of dog poop that had accumulated in our yard in 3 days. I told my son to be careful where he was running so he wouldn't step in any. I actually said this about 700 times because I knew he wasn't paying attention. As I made my way around the yard, I came across a pile that had a footprint in it. Apparently, someone wasn't listening. I yelled over to my son and told him to check his shoes. He said they were clean and proceeded to play. About 20 minutes later we start to head inside and I notice poop on his shoe.
I said, "I thought you didn't have any poop on your shoe?"
He said "I don't" and in his mind, he really doesn't.
I reminded him that I had told him to check his shoes and asked how he knew that he didn't have anything on them. This is the story I was told...
"Well...basically I didn't even need to look at my shoe because I looked at the pile of poop and studied the footprint in it. I knew that it wasn't from me because it had a different pattern than my shoe."
Me: "Um, you had to have stepped in that poop because it's on your shoe and no one else has been in the yard."
"Welllll, I know I didn't step in it because when I was running, I made sure that when I got close to some, I would take a few steps and then swerve over to the side and sometimes I just ran really fast and dove over it so yeah, I didn't step in any. Plus that print has wavy lines and I know that the lines on the bottom of my shoe are straight. So yeah, it wasn't me."
Me: "Then how did it get on your shoe?"
"Mom, how am I supposed to know? It's just there."
Because heaven forbid we just admit that mom is right about something!!
So last night I was thinking about all this and my husband comes to bed. I usually like to go to sleep first because he snores. He has this amazing ability to fall asleep within seconds of laying down. It's almost like a bedtime version of narcolepsy. I'm actually kind of jealous.
So he gets into bed and gets comfy. I know I'm pretty much screwed because he's going to be snoring soon and then I won't be able to fall asleep. So I politely ask him to roll over before he falls asleep so he doesn't snore. Of course, Ike can't just do that without saying something. Here's what happened and I'm very happy to say that I was right!
"Darling husband, please roll over because if you don't now, I'm just going to have to wake you up in a minute when you are snoring and make you roll over." (okay - maybe the darling is exagerating just a bit!)
"I don't snore"
Trying to prove my point, "Okay, it's 11:09 right now, I bet that by 11:12, I will be waking you up to roll over."
"Whatever, I don't snore."
11:10 - laughing from both of us....HE WOKE HIMSELF UP SNORING!
I asked him why he was laughing and I got a mumbled "Shut up". Then he admitted that he woke himself up snoring less than a minute after we were talking! He rolls over slightly.
11:12 - he gets shoved to roll all over again
It feels good to be right. It doesn't happen to me very often around here so I have to cherish it when I can, even if it means losing a few minutes of sleep.
Now my husband is an amazing man. He's generous and kind and funny. And he's always right. I love seeing my son grow up and have all these wonderful characteristics coming through. He is very much like his dad and he too, is always right. Which means I am pretty much always wrong. Even when I know I'm right, my son is so convinced that he's right, he can sometimes even convince me.
Yesterday we were playing outside and I was picking up the 547 piles of dog poop that had accumulated in our yard in 3 days. I told my son to be careful where he was running so he wouldn't step in any. I actually said this about 700 times because I knew he wasn't paying attention. As I made my way around the yard, I came across a pile that had a footprint in it. Apparently, someone wasn't listening. I yelled over to my son and told him to check his shoes. He said they were clean and proceeded to play. About 20 minutes later we start to head inside and I notice poop on his shoe.
I said, "I thought you didn't have any poop on your shoe?"
He said "I don't" and in his mind, he really doesn't.
I reminded him that I had told him to check his shoes and asked how he knew that he didn't have anything on them. This is the story I was told...
"Well...basically I didn't even need to look at my shoe because I looked at the pile of poop and studied the footprint in it. I knew that it wasn't from me because it had a different pattern than my shoe."
Me: "Um, you had to have stepped in that poop because it's on your shoe and no one else has been in the yard."
"Welllll, I know I didn't step in it because when I was running, I made sure that when I got close to some, I would take a few steps and then swerve over to the side and sometimes I just ran really fast and dove over it so yeah, I didn't step in any. Plus that print has wavy lines and I know that the lines on the bottom of my shoe are straight. So yeah, it wasn't me."
Me: "Then how did it get on your shoe?"
"Mom, how am I supposed to know? It's just there."
Because heaven forbid we just admit that mom is right about something!!
So last night I was thinking about all this and my husband comes to bed. I usually like to go to sleep first because he snores. He has this amazing ability to fall asleep within seconds of laying down. It's almost like a bedtime version of narcolepsy. I'm actually kind of jealous.
So he gets into bed and gets comfy. I know I'm pretty much screwed because he's going to be snoring soon and then I won't be able to fall asleep. So I politely ask him to roll over before he falls asleep so he doesn't snore. Of course, Ike can't just do that without saying something. Here's what happened and I'm very happy to say that I was right!
"Darling husband, please roll over because if you don't now, I'm just going to have to wake you up in a minute when you are snoring and make you roll over." (okay - maybe the darling is exagerating just a bit!)
"I don't snore"
Trying to prove my point, "Okay, it's 11:09 right now, I bet that by 11:12, I will be waking you up to roll over."
"Whatever, I don't snore."
11:10 - laughing from both of us....HE WOKE HIMSELF UP SNORING!
I asked him why he was laughing and I got a mumbled "Shut up". Then he admitted that he woke himself up snoring less than a minute after we were talking! He rolls over slightly.
11:12 - he gets shoved to roll all over again
It feels good to be right. It doesn't happen to me very often around here so I have to cherish it when I can, even if it means losing a few minutes of sleep.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Flying black things...er....
Today was cleaning day at our house. No, a cleaning lady wasn't coming. We were cleaning. We've been so busy and "chore day" has been getting skipped. The kids want to go to the carnival tonight so I had leverage to get all the work done. We cranked the music through the surround sound and we were cleaning our hearts out.
I had just passed through the living room and my son was on the couch staring out the windows "dusting" the blinds. I went back into the bedroom when he started yelling for me.
He rushed back into our room and said "Mom, mom, there was just a big black thing flying through the living room!!! Come quick"
So I go into the living room and was kind of alarmed because he seemed pretty worked up. He reenacted how he was kneeling on the couch looking out the window and when he turned his head, he saw something black fly by. So I look around and don't see anything.
"Mom, it went behind dad's chair. I know it did. I think it may have been a bird or some type of really big insect or maybe even a bat!"
By this time his eyes are big as saucers and even though I know there's not a bird flying around the house, I haven't all together ruled out bat or large insect. For those that know me well, know that I'm not outdoorsy and I don't like critters. Especially not in my house. I think camping is for homeless people. My house needs to be pest free. So, I did what any good parent would do, I made my 7 year old son look behind the chair. I figured he was much quicker than me and I needed to be ready to catch anything that flew out.
Lucky for both of us, nothing flew out. By this time, I know there's nothing flying around. I'm thinking he was probably looking out in the sun and turned his head to fast and saw black spot. Or he's hallucinating. Either way, there wasn't anything flying around. I'm pretty sure our dog would have freaked out anyway.
But this new information didn't stop my son from going on a massive search. First, he noticed that the cushion of the love seat was lifted slightly so he thought that it had flown in there.
"Mom, what if it flew in there to hide under the love seat and is making a nest and then will have babies?"
So, of course, we lifted the cushions to make sure.
Then he went in his room and noticed something small and brown on his floor. He's 100% positive that's its an animal tooth. I'm 99.9% positive that it's a rock out of his aquarium which to him means I don't know anything. He's not buying it and has been carrying it around all day. I don't know if he thinks it's going to come back looking for it's tooth and then he will catch it? He's convinced it's from a large bat. I'm not asking any more questions.
For now, the adventure is over and the house is clean. We didn't find anymore clues. I asked him if we put the tooth under his pillow, will a bat fairy leave him money? He told me I was being ridiculous. I guess now we know where he gets it from!
I had just passed through the living room and my son was on the couch staring out the windows "dusting" the blinds. I went back into the bedroom when he started yelling for me.
He rushed back into our room and said "Mom, mom, there was just a big black thing flying through the living room!!! Come quick"
So I go into the living room and was kind of alarmed because he seemed pretty worked up. He reenacted how he was kneeling on the couch looking out the window and when he turned his head, he saw something black fly by. So I look around and don't see anything.
"Mom, it went behind dad's chair. I know it did. I think it may have been a bird or some type of really big insect or maybe even a bat!"
By this time his eyes are big as saucers and even though I know there's not a bird flying around the house, I haven't all together ruled out bat or large insect. For those that know me well, know that I'm not outdoorsy and I don't like critters. Especially not in my house. I think camping is for homeless people. My house needs to be pest free. So, I did what any good parent would do, I made my 7 year old son look behind the chair. I figured he was much quicker than me and I needed to be ready to catch anything that flew out.
Lucky for both of us, nothing flew out. By this time, I know there's nothing flying around. I'm thinking he was probably looking out in the sun and turned his head to fast and saw black spot. Or he's hallucinating. Either way, there wasn't anything flying around. I'm pretty sure our dog would have freaked out anyway.
But this new information didn't stop my son from going on a massive search. First, he noticed that the cushion of the love seat was lifted slightly so he thought that it had flown in there.
"Mom, what if it flew in there to hide under the love seat and is making a nest and then will have babies?"
So, of course, we lifted the cushions to make sure.
Then he went in his room and noticed something small and brown on his floor. He's 100% positive that's its an animal tooth. I'm 99.9% positive that it's a rock out of his aquarium which to him means I don't know anything. He's not buying it and has been carrying it around all day. I don't know if he thinks it's going to come back looking for it's tooth and then he will catch it? He's convinced it's from a large bat. I'm not asking any more questions.
For now, the adventure is over and the house is clean. We didn't find anymore clues. I asked him if we put the tooth under his pillow, will a bat fairy leave him money? He told me I was being ridiculous. I guess now we know where he gets it from!
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
I'm still kickin'....
It's been a while! Did ya'll think that summer break did me in? Nope, I'm still here and so far it's going by quick! We are gearing up for vacay in a few days so I'm sure I'll have some exciting posts from that. Hopefully we will get past the state line before too much drama enfolds!
We've had a busy summer! I've come to terms with the fact that I won't be getting "Mother of the Year" come August and I'm okay with that. I recently had someone tell me that they set a lot of their rules similar to our's because she saw me as an Authority on parenting. I almost laughed in her face. Yes, I was honored but I was really thinking "Sucker - we have no idea what we are doing!" Most days we are guessing and if you were a fly on the wall around here, you'd be rethinking following our example!
Some reasons I'm not winning any awards -
My sun is currently sunburned due to my lack of sunscreen application. He's thrilled with it because he thinks it will turn to tan and he won't have to wear sunscreen the rest of the summer. Apparently, he hasn't looked at his mother's pasty white skin that he inherited!
He also has on shorts that are from 2 summers ago and could be categorized as "daisy dukes." He has paired them with a hand me down shirt with someone else's last name on the back. I'm fine with this outfit because at least he got dressed when I asked.
Our water bill has increased this summer. My husband thinks it's because I'm watering the flowers and garden so much. Really it's because the shower is the only place the kids leave me alone. And when I say leave me alone, I'm using it loosely. The door is locked but that doesn't stop them from banging on it. I've found if I say "I can't hear you, wait until I get out" I can usually get about 3 more minutes of silence.
I lie to my kids. A lot. I have a friend that says she's never lied to her kids. Really? How is that even possible? Granted, I'm not lying about anything important. It's more just little fibs. Like when they ask if I'll take them to the big expensive water park and they even offer to pay with their own money and I have to lie and say "Oh darn, they are closed today! Looks like we have to stay in the A/C and watch a movie instead!" I used to be able to say NO, because I said so. But when you are with them 24/7, it sucks to always have to say no. So I feel like I"m just being more creative in my answers. And these kids get to do all kinds of fun stuff anyway. No once in a while won't kill them.
In other news, my husband got a new car. It's probably his dream car. For you "locals" you've already gotten to see it. No, it's not a fancy sports car, it's an old man Lincoln Town Car. He loves it, the kids love it, and I have to say, it is pretty comfy to ride in. We look like 90 yr. olds but I'm okay with that. He is pretty much obsessed with it and you tube videos on how to clean it. I keep seeing things bought on Amazon and I don't even ask anymore. It's all kinds of new cleaners and mitts and waxes. My dad has cars he shows and details them. I'm used to this obsession. And I'm okay with it. I'm glad he has a new hobby and has pride in his ride. In the past 2 days, he's spent 6 hours cleaning it and that's just to prep it for the polish and wax. If you live near by, you've even gotten to witness him using the air compressor to dry it and last night he used the air compressor to run some special polisher. It's loud. Very loud. But as he keeps telling me, "Ain't nothin' finer than the Luxury Liner" so I'll just go with it. I'm sure it will be a sweet ride during vacation.
Vacation is a week in a cabin which we've done the past few years. I love to instill "tradition" in my kids and we always have fun. I don't remember vacation being this much work when I was a kid. That's probably why we hardly went anywhere. I'm limiting my kids to one small bag each that they can take in the car with activities and snacks. We are used to taking the van where we can just reach in the back and get what we need. I can see it now, we'll be pulled over with me digging through the trunk to get that one thing they have to have! Everyone driving by will think "Oh look at that nice lady, getting something out of the trunk for her grandpa" Little do they know "Grandpa" is really threatening to ground the kids in the back and I volunteered to hop out in 70 mph traffic because it means I'll have 30 seconds of peace! Wish me luck folks!
We've had a busy summer! I've come to terms with the fact that I won't be getting "Mother of the Year" come August and I'm okay with that. I recently had someone tell me that they set a lot of their rules similar to our's because she saw me as an Authority on parenting. I almost laughed in her face. Yes, I was honored but I was really thinking "Sucker - we have no idea what we are doing!" Most days we are guessing and if you were a fly on the wall around here, you'd be rethinking following our example!
Some reasons I'm not winning any awards -
My sun is currently sunburned due to my lack of sunscreen application. He's thrilled with it because he thinks it will turn to tan and he won't have to wear sunscreen the rest of the summer. Apparently, he hasn't looked at his mother's pasty white skin that he inherited!
He also has on shorts that are from 2 summers ago and could be categorized as "daisy dukes." He has paired them with a hand me down shirt with someone else's last name on the back. I'm fine with this outfit because at least he got dressed when I asked.
Our water bill has increased this summer. My husband thinks it's because I'm watering the flowers and garden so much. Really it's because the shower is the only place the kids leave me alone. And when I say leave me alone, I'm using it loosely. The door is locked but that doesn't stop them from banging on it. I've found if I say "I can't hear you, wait until I get out" I can usually get about 3 more minutes of silence.
I lie to my kids. A lot. I have a friend that says she's never lied to her kids. Really? How is that even possible? Granted, I'm not lying about anything important. It's more just little fibs. Like when they ask if I'll take them to the big expensive water park and they even offer to pay with their own money and I have to lie and say "Oh darn, they are closed today! Looks like we have to stay in the A/C and watch a movie instead!" I used to be able to say NO, because I said so. But when you are with them 24/7, it sucks to always have to say no. So I feel like I"m just being more creative in my answers. And these kids get to do all kinds of fun stuff anyway. No once in a while won't kill them.
In other news, my husband got a new car. It's probably his dream car. For you "locals" you've already gotten to see it. No, it's not a fancy sports car, it's an old man Lincoln Town Car. He loves it, the kids love it, and I have to say, it is pretty comfy to ride in. We look like 90 yr. olds but I'm okay with that. He is pretty much obsessed with it and you tube videos on how to clean it. I keep seeing things bought on Amazon and I don't even ask anymore. It's all kinds of new cleaners and mitts and waxes. My dad has cars he shows and details them. I'm used to this obsession. And I'm okay with it. I'm glad he has a new hobby and has pride in his ride. In the past 2 days, he's spent 6 hours cleaning it and that's just to prep it for the polish and wax. If you live near by, you've even gotten to witness him using the air compressor to dry it and last night he used the air compressor to run some special polisher. It's loud. Very loud. But as he keeps telling me, "Ain't nothin' finer than the Luxury Liner" so I'll just go with it. I'm sure it will be a sweet ride during vacation.
Vacation is a week in a cabin which we've done the past few years. I love to instill "tradition" in my kids and we always have fun. I don't remember vacation being this much work when I was a kid. That's probably why we hardly went anywhere. I'm limiting my kids to one small bag each that they can take in the car with activities and snacks. We are used to taking the van where we can just reach in the back and get what we need. I can see it now, we'll be pulled over with me digging through the trunk to get that one thing they have to have! Everyone driving by will think "Oh look at that nice lady, getting something out of the trunk for her grandpa" Little do they know "Grandpa" is really threatening to ground the kids in the back and I volunteered to hop out in 70 mph traffic because it means I'll have 30 seconds of peace! Wish me luck folks!
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