Friday, February 27, 2009

F Words and F Notes

There are some days when I feel like everything that comes out of Bo's mouth is downright hilarious. Sometimes I'm right. Sometimes it's just me. Here are some recent conversations, and then I want to tell you about his violin lesson today.

On our way to the store Bo saw the Super Target sign and read it aloud:
Are all Targets "Super Target"?

No, just the ones that have grocery stores in them.

Ohhhhhh. So, like a Super McDonald's, then?

Hahaha! No, there's no such thing as a Super McDonald's
.
Yes there is! We've been in at least TWO or more McDonald's with grocery stores in them!

Me: Bo, what do you want for dinner?
Bo: You always ask me that, and really, you don't have to ask me that because pretty much every time, the answer is going to be the same, I'm going to say, "Crab legs".

Number of times Bo has had crab legs for dinner: Ø, zilch, never

You know what I want to be when I grow up? I want to be in a band, be a bus driver, AND be a dentist. I'll have to go to college for a year to learn how to be a bus driver and a dentist. To be in a band I just have to practice a lot. Then, being a dentist will make it possible so that I can be a bus driver.
This comes from J's passion for third world development. In the past he has toyed with several different options for a profession that would make working in other countries a possibility. A dentist is one profession that we've discussed at length. Bo clearly has picked up on this.


And finally, his violin lesson. I must start with a few notes for background. One, I pride myself on my ability to not get embarrassed very easily. It's not impossible, but it rarely happens.
Secondly, his teacher. He's darling. He goes to my church, but a different congregation, and he played for us once and Bo remarked, "I could do that" and I decided it was time for him to put his money where his mouth is, and that's how we got started with lessons. But really, this guy is darling. And very good with Bo. He's patient, he has a good sense of humor, he pushes him, he is encouraging but expects a lot and Bo responds very well.

So today Bo played the song he practiced all week. It's his first song, so kind of a big deal. He did quite well, and as a little treat, Mr. C played alongside him. Bo squeaked and paused and was a little flat, but played with gusto. And when they finished, Bo said, "We sounded exactly the same!"

Then, just as Bo's lesson finished, I turned to discuss future lesson dates with his teacher and Bo was supposed to be loosening his bow and putting away his violin.

Instead he blurts out, "Oh man! I almost said the F- Word!"

I could NOT believe my ears. And I kind of couldn't speak. Finally I sputtered, "What F word are you talking about Bo?" And he answers, "The bad word that you aren't supposed to say, the one that rhymes with..."

I clapped my hand over his mouth and sunk down in my chair in COMPLETE and utter embarrassment. Of course I was laughing uncontrollably too.

The worst part of all was, his teacher, trying to help me feel better about it all said, "Did you learn that word at school Bo?"

"Nope, I was at home."

He was. It was just outside our home.

And I leave you with sweetness, playing the violin. Not almost saying filthy words.

And lest you think I sugar coat anything, I even left in the near-bow-beating of Danyo.

video

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Things No One Told Me Before I Had Children

You will have to sweep your kitchen floor 3-4 times a day if you ever want a clean kitchen floor.

Kids don't thank you for clean bums, clean clothes, yummy food, or regular sleeping schedules.

You will spend more time cleaning dried cereal or yogurt off your kitchen walls and floor, than you will ever spend actually eating cereal or yogurt.

Having children will make you fat.

All children are actually deaf.

A grouchy 5-year-old is worse than a roommate with PMS.

One small child with one small sharpie in one small minute can do more damage than you would ever think possible.

Kids are born obnoxious, insanely nerdy, and disgusting. You have to spend practically every waking moment trying to correct this.

You will repeat yourself until the sound of your own voice makes your head want to explode. And not even for things you should have to say.

You will say things you never ever in a million years thought you'd say or even considered as words people uttered. Or thought. Like, "Because sticking your finger in there makes your hand smell, and it's disgusting" or "Get out of the queso!" or "I can't wipe if you are going to dance around like that" or "No, it is not Sarah's fault that you just pooped all over my bathroom."

Your respect for single mothers who are making it work will be born and multiply a hundred times over.

You will actually get maxed out and THEN some on physical contact.

Bathing regularly will be a luxury.

Your drinks will perpetually have floaties if you don't put them out of reach of your children.

There is no such thing as "out of reach of your children".

The delusion of being in charge is real, and gets shattered often.

Nothing you do stays done.

You will hit your emotional and mental wall, even if nothing else in life has made you do that.

There is no such thing as adult conversation when kids are awake.

You will spend the first 15 minutes of your peace and quiet and alone time with your husband---talking about the children.

Toilets, vacuums, outlets, cell phones, car keys, and drawers hold more appeal than any toy for any amount of money that your child has.

Poop and snot become significantly less disgusting. But still disgusting.

You will always feel like you aren't doing good enough, even if you spent the first 25 years of your life feeling like you are the best thing that ever happened to the word "average".

Your children learning hard lessons will feel more painful for you than them.

There are no words to describe the emotion you will feel when it comes to protecting your child.

Your tolerance for Disney movies expands exponentially. The equations breaks down to something like this FORMALLY SUPER ANNOYING + PEACE AND QUIET=BEST MOVIE EVER AND YOU WANT TO KISS Ol' WALT.

You will actually get stupider. See?

When it is time to prepare dinner, your children will have a completely urgent and irrepressible need to be held. Or to write on walls.

"Children should be seen and not heard" won't seem so rude anymore.

The sound of your child's laughter will always be the most wonderful sound you hear in a day.

Seeing your husband's eyes or manner of speaking in your child will always make your heart melt.

Watching your children explore and learn and grow will bring you pure joy.

"Mom, I love you" makes SO much worthwhile.

You will never get tired of your children's speech impediment.

You will lose all sense of social appropriateness and talk about things that are only interesting to you, really think your child is the cutest child ever born, and be unable to talk about anything intelligent.

You will cherish the little things because you know you should and you know you'll be glad you did.

You will screw up royally. A lot.

You won't feel it day to day, and it will be hard, and feel unrewarding, but in the end, when you have done your best, you will see that it was enough.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

I Don't Even Warn You When I Change The Subject

Fair warning: If you are looking for coherent, cohesive, and/or meaningful, this isn't the place today.

I got this email yesterday: "I'm bored. Please blog." I'm blogging, but I apologize in advance it's not going to help your boredom.

I hate bananas but I buy them every time I go to the store. It's almost compulsive how I buy them. I don't want my kids to hate them because I think they are nutritious and a nice totable snack, they shouldn't miss out on it. But I think they are disgusting.

I do not understand why children talk so loud. Bo is at the table making a paper clip be a ballerina. That's harmless enough, but the "ballerina" is yelling "I'm a balloh-weena lalalalala!"
Why?

Lately Avee has been having some frustrations. I remember Bo going through this stage. He would get in trouble and get sent to his room and he'd be so angry and frustrated, but not really have the words to express it. So he would go up about 3 steps, turn and do this lovely combination: Scream, yell the word stupid or shut up, the worst words he could think of, then yell again, and then a heartfelt "thpppppppppp". If we were lucky, there'd be another scream. This little combination would take milliseconds. It was quite a talent. Fortunately he was up the stairs after he finished because it always made me laugh.

Well, now Avee's doing it. But it's just a shrill, long, loud scream. And just seconds after she starts, she realizes she doesn't like the consequences that come with her screaming, and she gets a charming smile (mid-scream), then stops short and says, "Oopths, sawy Mom, I didn't know I did that. I didn't know I screamed."

Huh? It doesn't matter how nonsensical this girl is, she believes in herself so much, she knows it will all work for her.

Bo has told me no less than 8 times since yesterday after school about a kid in his class that exclaimed "GEEZ!" out loud. He pretty much thinks it's the funniest word he's ever heard.

I guess he's never ticked off my mom.

Speaking of my mom. I talked to her other day and she confessed to me that she is addicted to watching Days of Our Lives. This in and of itself is quite remarkable. In some ways, it's so different from the woman who raised me. We didn't own a tv the entire time I lived in my parent's home. On the other hand, it's not too shocking. Now she has her shows, and watches them faithfully, and refers to the characters as though they are her neighbors and best friends. "Well, Jim Bob had that problem with the raccoons until he had that heart attack and Doc (Aka Billy Ray Cyrus) saved his life, and then showed him how to get rid of coons."

My favorite though was, "Well, I know a man who opened his car door and someone drove by and tore that door right off!"

"Mom, that was an episode of Touched By an Angel."

"Oh yeah. That's right. But it could still happen so always close your car door quickly!"

Anyway. The best part is, she asked me to start watching it too so she could have someone to talk to about it. Apparently my SIL watches it now and then, but she doesn't want to bug her all the time.

I'm kind of excited. I've only ever watched bits and pieces of Soap Operas. I like to switch between two or three, and watch how almost seamlessly the dialogues blend together. I guess I can watch an entire one and get about as much entertainment.

Speaking of entertainment--this morning I took the neighbor boys to school. Typically I take my son, the 8 year old boy next door, and then my friend's children. And she in turn, brings Bo home in the afternoon. As well as the 8 year old neighbor boy. I've mentioned them in the past. Well behaved, polite, decent kids with a mom I've seen less than 5 times since we've moved here. And I may have mentioned that 8 year old is not the sharpest tool in the shed. In a way that is downright hilarious to me most days.

So, we're all in the van, and I'm taking the 13 year old to his school and so he's sitting next to me. I say, "Buckle up everyone" and 8 year old doesn't do it. I say, "8YearOld, buckle up please." And this conversation ensues.

8YearOld: We're only going to be in the car for a minute probably
Me: It only takes a minute to get into a car accident.
Older Brother: Or less. 8YearOld, you always wear your seat belt, not matter how long you are in the car. Have you forgotten about Dad?
8YearOld: Oh yeah. That's right. He only has one leg and one eye.

This is where I lost it. He said it with such defeat, and so matter-of-factly.

Older Brother turned to me and said, "Well, he has two eyes, he just can't see out of one of them."

I spent the entire trip to school looking out my window because I could not stop laughing.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Bo And The Violin

Bo started violin lessons a couple of weeks ago. He promptly got sick and out of a week, practiced twice.

When his teacher asked how many times he practiced (after it became very clear he hadn't "improved" much in the week) I felt sheepish as I answered.

Same feelings I had 20 years ago at my own piano lessons.

Give me a break! This time I'M paying for it.

Then his teacher gave him an assignment to listen to a Suzuki violin CD while he played with legos. As he gave this assignment, my mind began to wander, as I imagines just how easy it would be to fulfill this assignment....

I saw Bo coming home from school with a big beaming smile and throwing his arms around me because he was so happy to see me and missed me so much. I did not see him dancing around the house in an effort to get his pants unbuttoned before he wets them. He walks over to the coat rack and hangs up his coat and backpack, and then goes and washes his hands. While he's eating a nutritious snack, I put the CD in to play.

And he kneels oh-so-cutely on the floor and stacks and builds and creates while the lovely violin music seeps into his head and heart and gives him an undeniable love for the instrument. I see him in twenty years, making people happy and his parents rich. And it all started with him sweetly kneeling on our carpet and playing with legos.

Pretty much the easiest assignment ever given.

Today when he came home I had to threaten to tie his hands behind his back for the rest of the night if he didn't get in there and wash them RIGHT NOW!

No I didn't.

And his backpack is still strewn across my couch, papers falling out of it.

And the blocks were already on the floor from 4 hours before when Danyo and I played with them. And by "played with them" I mean, I dodged flying blocks while he laughed hysterically.

Bo griped because the assignment was to play with legos. So I told him to get the legos out. That was too much work. But he still griped about the blocks.

I threatened to call his teacher and cancel his lesson. 3 times.

Suddenly all Avee wanted to do was play with blocks.

Only, she builds crappy cemeteries and can't do anything. Apparently. I'm just taking Bo's word for it. (Should I be worried that what Bo decided to create was a cemetery?)

And there were a few fits thrown.

By all of us.

I hadn't even put the blasted CD in yet. When I did Bo wailed that it would take FO'EVOH to hear it all. Uh. No it won't. Get a grip dude.

Halfway through the first song Bo wandered off to the bathroom to play with toilet paper and toothbrushes. I'm assuming---I mean, what else does one do in there to kill time?

The ENTIRE event was a total and complete hassle. I said to Bo no less than 7 times, "You do realize you are complaining about HAVING TO PLAY!?! Right?"

I want my daydream back, cuz this stinks.

I realized I was getting to frustrated with his inability to JUST PLAY, so I left the room and went into the kitchen to do some dishes.

I hear Bo whine, "No faaaaaair! You get to do the dishes!"

When I didn't respond because I was too busy vigourously rolling my eyes, he came into the kitchen and said, "Why do I have to play with blocks!? Can't I at least wash the dishes or clean the table while I listen to this music!?"

Uhhhhh. Yes.

Yes you can.

And if that's not okay with your teacher, we'll find another one.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Taking A Stand Against Something Meaningful. Oops, That's Sarcasm Again.

My friend JJMac has one of those "friends" whose entire Christmas letter is more about bragging than it is informing. And every conversation is more about who's got more money, lost more weight, has smarter kids---than anything else. She drives my friend crazy. But I really enjoy it because sometimes hearing the report of their conversations is the most fun I have in a week. And I look forward to those Christmas letters every year. They are awesome.

JJMac was bemoaning her plight to me one day, how she can't take another conversation like that, etc and then suddenly said, "Why don't you ever have to deal with people like this! How come all your friends are cool!?"

Okay, she may not have said the second part, but it's my story.

And I said something along these lines, "Well, I pretty much decided when I was about 25 that I didn't have the time or energy for relationships that weren't mutually satisfying. People who weren't responsive to me (as if!) and people who I felt like were just using me or taking from me, I just stopped. There are too many other people and things that need my time and attention to continue on a useless path like that.

For me, it was a "friend" who called once or twice a year and compulsively lied about EVERYTHING. It was ridiculous, I'm sure she knew that I knew she was lying, but she wouldn't stop. Sometimes it was funny, most of the time it was just a drain and a waste of my time. Why should I spend my time congratulating someone on something that never happened? Or offering sympathy for a loss that never occurred? Weirdo. Yeah, that's right---people who lie like that are weirdos.

Please don't freak out if you are my friend and I haven't called you for 3 years.

I also have three kids, a part time job, church responsibilities, some social issues, and a time management problem.

I still love you. I probably just love Word Challenge on FB more.

Anyway, JJMac says I changed her life with this little bit of information.


But I can't be sure. I haven't talked to her since I was about 25.

I totally cracked myself up just now. Seriously.

So, in my personal life, I've been able to clean up shop, and keep the riffraff at bay and really save my time and energy for people I like and enjoy.

I like to think I live a dumbhead-free social life.

But it's not true.

Because I still get email forwards.

I think I've gotten the message out pretty loud and clear among friends and I don't get every random email forward known to man from anyone. I get regular funny ones from a couple of friends and my sisters, and potential terrorist attacks on malls on Halloween from my mom. She just be keeping her baby safe yo.

It's not the emails that bug me.

It's not the friends who send them.

It's the people who get their grubby little hands on them from the time the great email is written to the time it gets to me.

For example, my sister sent me a funny youtube video. I had actually seen it before, but I enjoyed it again because it is funny. So I happily watched it. And I smiled at the funny parts. But that's all. I smiled. I'm stingy with my laughs. It didn't make me LAUGH.

At the end of the email it yells at me "IF THIS DOESN'T MAKE YOU LAUGH THEN YOUR LAUGH MUST BE BROKEN!"

Well that's just rude.

It didn't make me laugh and it doesn't have to be insulting me.

Then I got another great email from a friend. It was funny. I enjoyed it. But some annoying person got their hands on it and instead of just clicking send, had to add,
I just know you're laughing!
You're gonna send it on - aren't you?


What is THAT about? Seriously, why are these random people so sure of my reaction? And is "you're gonna send it on--aren't you?" The new Power of Positive Thinking for "If you don't send this to at least 43 people your grandchildren will all be born with 5 ears, can you live with that knowledge!? It's for the children woman, DO IT FOR THE CHILDREN!!"

If you are my friend and I send you a forward, it's because it made me laugh out loud. A lot. And you can send me a personal thank you note, in the form of chocolate or words of adoration, because I erase the 10 pages of email addresses of the people who got it before you.

And yes, I erase the taunts and the threats too. I'm making the internet world a better place, one gigantic deletion at a time.

Speaking of deletions, last week I got an email FWD from my mom. Only there was nothing in the email. So, even though I was sure it was cute flashing glittery lips, in honor of Valentine's Day, or a warning to please not wear my hair in a ponytail because attackers have an advantage over me if they can grab that---I sent a quick email saying the email was empty.

She wrote this back the next day, "Hm, I tried to delete all the extra names, and I guess I deleted the whole thing.....well, I am trying again! At least I got a lot of mail today.......everyone I sent it to said: 'Sorry!'"

Pretty sure I learned my value of a good email from her.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Dripping With Sarcasm

I always get great ideas for a post when I'm driving in my car. Or taking a shower. Or falling asleep. Or cooking dinner. Really inopportune times, and then when I'm sitting in front of the computer, I remember nothing.

It's probably lucky for you. I'm not sure I'm the best judge of what a "great idea" is.

One thing I realized while driving today, is that I may be using sarcasm more than I realize. And I need to stop. Personally, I do think sarcasm is a weak version of humor. That's not to say I don't appreciate some well-placed sarcasm. But I can also get really annoyed with persistent and unfunny sarcasm.

Avee's little Pho Restaurant is closed for renovations. This is very sad for all of us, but particularly hard on Avee. So hard, that she's starting to think everything is closing. So when I went to the bank drive-thru to get cash from the ATM, she informed me that it was closed. And even though I told her it wasn't closed, she maintained that it was.

That's where Bo comes in. He's this little midget "enforcer" with no authority. ("That's right Avee, get your pajamas put away! We're tired of asking!")

So Bo told her that it was not closed.

And Avee said it was closed.

He said it was not.

She said it was.

It was not.

It was.

Was not.

WAAAAAAS!!!!

And so forth.

Moments before my head would have exploded, I intervened and said, "Bo, how much do you really care about this issue? I mean, is it really worth it? Do you really care about the right answer here?"

To which he responded, "Oh I care mom. I care deeply."

That's where I learned the part about there being too much sarcasm in our family dialogue.

In other news,
Bo is doing a lot better than the last time I wrote about him and publicly abused him on my blog and got put in my place by a concerned blitizen. And by concerned, I mean CUCKOO!

There are still some things that need to be worked through, but sleep, attention, J being home more, and my superior parenting skills (of which I have referred to in the past) have all helped tremendously.

On the other hand, Danyo woke up this morning with PMS. I'm pretty sure that's a completely accurate diagnosis too. I swear I had a roommate like him....

First of all, he woke me up by crying loudly in his crib. He never cries in his crib. He sings, he dances, he yells, and he whines---but he never cries. In his crib.

So I immediately jump out of bed to retrieve him, because that's what an awesome mom does when it's 9:08 am and her 5 year old is downstairs eating FunDip for breakfast and her 3 year old is sprawled next to her on her.

When I walked into his room he started baby swearing and looking for something to throw at me. He wasn't willing to part with his blanket so he settled on flinging his arm at me. It was disappointing to him that it had to stay attached and couldn't fly across the room and slap me. Because ooooooooh, he wanted that.

I started sweet talking him and he threw himself down on his bed and hid his face, screaming even more loudly.

I thought maybe he was frustrated that his sippy cup was trapped between bars. So I reached down for it. He clawed at me. I handed it to him and he gave one loud menacing screech and shoved the cup back where it was.

I sweet talked him some more.

I have always been this effective with the boys.

I finally reached down to pick his stinky butt up out of the crib and the boy grabbed the bars of his crib to keep from being removed.

Now you tell me what other explanation there is for this, if not PMS?

Plus, after I took him downstairs, all while he screamed, I figured he'd be happy once I put him down.

You know the rest.

He wouldn't let me put him down.

I had to hold him.

While he screamed.

He finally stopped when I fed him popcorn leftover from last night.

I think I'm going to write a book, either about superior parenting skills, early morning nutrition for kids, or how to deal with PMS in your 20 month old....boy.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Recent Aveeisms

Remember that time Bo was crying and crying and Dad said he should stop and he wouldn't and then he didn't get what he wanted and he was still crying? Yeah. When Bo kept crying it made me nervous.

I can have that Mom! I can totally have that. The police officers say it's okay if I have a sucker. It will be okay.

Sometimes I don't dream. You wanna know why? Because the mouses in my ears are squeaking too loud, then I can't hear my dreams.

Ahem! AaaH-E-E-EM! You know what that is? It's what the boss does. The boss is the person in charge. The one who can BUST you.

It's okay Danyo, it's okay baby, Mama's got you, I'm here buddy, it's okay.
(he totally responds to this, by the way)

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

In Which I May Be Bragging

First, I've been meaning to post this for some time. Like, for months. That's how lame I really am.

One of my most favorite sites in the entire world is WANT NOT. If you know me in real life, I've told you about it. Probably several times. I have made a ridiculous amount of purchases through this site. And one Christmas, our entire Christmas was made through Want Not purchases. I love the site because it takes the leg work out of a lot of great sales, and the writer, Mir, is hilarious. I can go weeks and sometimes months without making purchases (If I'm exercising serious self-restraint) but I read it everyday because she always makes me laugh. Well, back a few months ago I actually won a contest! She has them quite regularly and sometimes it's stuff I want, and sometimes it is not. Well, I won a Stylin' Studio. I'm of the "never win anything" kind of people, so this was very exciting for me.

Mostly I want to tell you about Want Not because it's awesome. But the Stylin' Studio is pretty cool. It's a little too old for Avee, but when we all play it, it's a blast. I knew it was too old for Avee when I entered the contest. I still just really wanted it.

And nextly, I am going to brag about the birthday present I got for my BFF. No, not you, my other BFF.

She's 6 months older than me. And I was at a consignment shop and found THIS BOOK.
I thought it was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen. I couldn't stop laughing and HAD to buy it. This was a week before JJMac's birthday so it worked out perfectly.

Now, about 10 years ago, after a couple of "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't get you anything for your birthday" conversations, we agreed to not ever get anything for each other on our birthdays. It just made it simpler. And it has SO worked for us. Funny thing is, my husband seems to think he and I have made the same arrangement...

But this year, it couldn't be helped. I had to send her a gift.

Two best parts of giving her this present: One, when J saw it he laughed and then said, "Why don't you give this to your sister for her birthday?" a) her birthday is in June, I don't want to wait until June to be funny! and b) she will be 49 in June. Uhhh, it's not funny if it's true! But, this question from J explained a lot.

Secondly. While I was at work JJMac called to "thank" me (I suppose) and left a message on the machine. It is of her reading a Menopause Poem. It's hilarious. I've saved it. Danyo listens to it everyday.

It's kind of like the gift that keeps on giving.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Nobody's Business

Last night at work I asked a woman for an emergency contact for her file.

She couldn't think of anyone. She didn't have anyone. Finally she gave me her landlord's name.

The rest of the night, my heart hurt. No one should be that lonely.

Tonight I asked an intoxicated man if he would be able to write, and sign a form.

He looked up at me with a scruffy beard and unkempt hair and chocolate eyes and slurred, "Let's just put it this way, in the 5th grade I got an award for having the best handwriting."

I choked back tears because suddenly when I looked down I saw a little boy's eyes and they were beaming with pride. I saw someone's child looking back at me.

When do these people stop being someone's child. Someone's brother? Someone's friend? He too had no contacts.

I could never work for real in the medical field because any more involvement than I already have with a patient, and I would probably be a bawling mess all the time.

After he signed the forms (with flair!) I said, "You've still got it! That looks great!" He laughed and then said, "Yeah, but I'm pretty freaking ____ed up. Now go get me some crackers!"

I thought using freaking to classify the F word, was pretty funny. Why not just say it twice?

Anyway. I mostly wanted to post so I didn't have my most favoritest post ever up for like 67 years. But it was fun.

I wanted to say before that happened how appreciative I was/am for all the great feedback I got. I got some good things to try/read/explore, and I really appreciate it. Generally if a kid is crying and wailing more than a situation requires, they get sent away to do their business. We won't begrudge them their anguish, wejust won't subject ourselves to it. But these fits aren't normal, they are indicative of a bigger issue. I feel like I have a better idea of how to deal with him. And I've had some helpful communication with his teacher.

So thank you. And not to be mean or play favorites or anything, but Anonymous was still my favorite. I need a nickname for her.

*Segway*

This morning Avee woke me up by whispering into my ear, almost conversationally, "Those haircutting scissors in the bathroom don't really cut hair very well."

Yes, yes, I did leap out of bed instantly.

She's such a little turkey. I hate to think what she could have pulled off had they been better scissors. She managed to cut along one side, and now it frames her face even better.

It seems entirely unfair that she can be so naughty, and only enhance her haircut. How can I prove to her that she shouldn't do such things when she already has better haircutting skills than I have?

Okay, that's all. Oh wait, no, I'm not done yet.

To people who've "delurked": Thanks! To people who read and don't comment, I don't think it's weird to read someone's blog and not comment. I mean, I put it out there on the world wide web, don't I? And it's not like I blog about my kids or my feelings or anything that's important....
oh wait. Just kidding. I guess I just am flattered anyone would even come back after seeing what a bad mom I am---lurker or not. But still, thanks for the people who said hi for the first time.

Look at me, I'm all kinds of grateful and sweet tonight.

Now go get me some crackers!

Friday, February 6, 2009

To My Bestest Favoritist Anonymous EVOH!

Today, and it's barely 9 am, has been a monumental day, one I will remember forever. I'd be lying if I didn't admit, it's already shaped up to be the best day ever.

It's the beeeeeeeeesssst daaaaaaaaaaaaay eeeeeeeeever!

I didn't want it to get lost at the end of my comments on an older post, so I'm bringing it up here, to share.

Join me, won't you?

At 6:08 AM, Anonymous came to my blog. She's lovely. Say "Hi" Anonymous! I bet you didn't realize you'd get such a warm welcome coming to my blog. Well, what you don't know (because you clearly haven't read my blog before, or actually read the post you commented on) is that I LOVE EVERYBODY. Especially you.

Anonymous wrote, in a 6 AM tizzy over my last post:

"How can you sit there and bad mouth your own child? Mu God do you really hate him that much that you devote an entire about how awful he is. Do you understand that millions of people would LOVE to be parents to a child any child yes even your problem child. I hope to God he never reads what you write about him. My heart is breaking for him. Dose your husband also hate him? I can't imagine feeling so much hate toward any of my children.

So the weather sucks, pack up the kids and take a vacation somewhere warm, go to the mall and play at the indoor play grounds. Why sit in the house and piss an moan all day? I mean really your an adult make the situation better. Oh thats right you probally wouldnt want to take your son. Maybe he can stay with loving grandparents.

This post of yours really makes me sad.

Praying for your son to find peace and love somewhere then at home."


I can only assume she was in a tizzy, on account of things like "that you devote an entire about how awful he is." Entire what? Don't tell me she knows about my "I hate my son shrine". Crap. And I particularly enjoy "...peace and love somewhere then at home." Huh? So many interesting ways to read that!

I also liked "Maybe he can stay with loving grandparents." I love the suggestion. They won't take him either! But this isn't about me. This is about YOU Ms. Snit Anonymous.
My formal response:


YEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAWWWWWW!!!

I got my first troll.

I can't even describe how exciting this is for me. In nearly three years--this is my first real one.

Thank you Anonymous. Thank you for referring to my oldest child as a "problem child". I think you were accusing me of that, I think, but I can't be sure. But WOOHEEE! In all your righteous indignation, you failed to notice that in a million years I would never do that to a child of mine.

But, there are other issues too.
*You assume I'm an adult. What is THAT about?
*I only know how to "piss and moan" it would be breaking a lifelong habit of WHO I AM and I really don't think kids are worth that kind of effort

I HAVE packed up the kids and taken them to a germ infested nasty ol' indoor playground. But I didn't take HIM! Are you kidding me? He's such a problem.

Please keep praying for my son. Perhaps "Mu God" will tell you in all your holiness, that you will never find a more cherished or adored child on the face of this earth.

p.s. I tried to "dose my husband" once--- as you suggested. Apparently that's illegal. Keep praying for us. We have so many more issues than the ones I blog about. Oh, no we don't. Who am I kidding!?

But seriously, thank you for your devotion to my children, and your obvious compassion for my rotten son. He's "probally" a better person now that you've put me in my place on my blog, anonymously.

Don't you wish your bloggy got a troll like mine, dontcha, dontcha!? ♪ ♫

It's everything I ever hoped it would be, and more.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Iowa Makes Me A Bad Mom

Let me be clear, I don't believe in griping about where you live. I'm a believer in blooming where you are planted.

I do a pretty good job of this. But I can't be forced to embrace this weather. I hate it. And because this is the only place I've lived that it has been this awful, I can't help but blame it on Iowa.

I'd blame it on the rain, but it's not falling.

My kids are going crazy. Danyo brings me a pair of shoes and his coat about 12 times a day. He just wants to go outside. But he can't. Because he can't function with frozen nose hairs and numb fingers and a burning cold nose. Plus, he can't really walk that well in Avee's snow boots that are on the wrong feet. Yeah, I helped. What of it?

Avee hasn't noticed that we haven't been outside in months. Mostly because you can't plug in movies when you are outside. And pink glittery shoes aren't all that great on ice.

How does this make me a bad mom?
I don't know, but the evidence is aplenty.

My kids are annoying and obnoxious and I don't really like them.

They make messes that I'm sick of cleaning up, but that is ten times better than the alternative of getting them to clean up. How many times a day can one person say, "I didn't ask you if you did it, I just asked you to clean it up!"?

I don't want to clean my house anymore either because it all just gets undone. Practically within seconds of it getting clean. Which is just about the stupidest thing I've ever heard of. Aside from the people who change the bed sheets in a delivery room, I can't think of any other job that feels like everything you do becomes immediately undone. Oh, I lied. The job of getting me skinny. That too becomes immediately undone in mere seconds. Brownie, anyone?

So, this post wasn't really supposed to be about my suburban woes.

Yes it was. Just not these particular woes.

Something is up with Bo. And it really could be as simple as, he's just tired. But I've decided that the best use of my time is to obsess over it, create an entire blog post about it, and drag it out as much as I can.

Because I don't have anything else to do. And you don't actually stick to the floor that long when you walk across my kitchen.

Bo is 5 and a half. He has a victim complex and has since the day he was born. I don't mean that as an insult, but I really don't know how else to put it. When he was a tot and would trip while he was walking, he'd immediately look at us and glare and clearly be wondering why we pushed him. It's never his fault. He also has APP disorder. It's "ANNOYING PERSISTENT PESSIMISM" disorder. Maybe you've heard of it?

A few examples:
J took him to the children's museum one Saturday morning, where he had an absolute blast. Afterwards J took him to Mickey D's for lunch. Which is a treat, right? I had my first happy meal when I was 17. Well, I stayed at home and ate slept played on Facebook took care of Danyo cleaned. Bo came flailing through the door and threw himself on the couch with a wail. He had an awful time, it was a horrible day, everything was so dumb. All because he didn't get to go to Wendy's.

Now typically, I agree. McD's instead of Wendy's is depressing.

But, REALLY!?

This kind of stuff is VERY typical. One minor thing that isn't even really all that bad, will make him see EVERYTHING as very bad. And usually I have the patience to talk him through it, but I keep waiting for one day when he'll get through it on his own, but it hasn't happened. And we've been doing this dance for close to 3 years now. I don't know how to teach him that things aren't always perfect and he needs to roll with the punches more.

Or that there are 19 other kids in his class that aren't getting picked to do something at the exact same moment he isn't getting picked.

So these things are Bo. They are who he's been pretty consistently his whole life. And I am aware that there may be a problem of him being too spoiled, so I need to reassess some things there.

But lately, he's been...well....crazy.

When he's asked to hang up his coat after school---something he does EVERY day and knows is a standard procedure, he loses it.

The same thing for brushing teeth, coming to the table for dinner, washing hands before dinner, putting on pajamas, closing the door after he's come inside, putting away toys or books, not being allowed/able to play the Wii exactly when he wants, etc.

Now, you may think "crazy" is a little extreme.

Let me show you what I mean. Wherever he is, he scrunches up his face in this horrible way and it immediately goes red, he stands up if he isn't already and then loses the ability to control his arms, but not to be defeated by that, he uses his torso to fling them about wildly. And then he runs in a stilted, stomping, insane looking "run" to the furthest point of the room from wherever he's standing. During this run, there is an escalating moan/howl/squeal/whine that ends with a shriek, punctuated by throwing himself onto something. Hopefully, for him, it's something soft. But not always. The closet door, the stairs and once the bathroom sink---all unpleasant landing spots.

Now. When I say things like, "would you like to brush your teeth first or put on your pajamas first?" he does this.

Once he did it when I said, "What do you want for dinner?" Halfway through, he realized that it was a question he probably wouldn't mind answering, but it was too late, he was on autopilot and had to finish. As soon as he was done, he immediately turned back to me and said, "I thought you were going to say something else. Can we have pizza rolls and no vegetable?"

Every night he wants someone to lay with him. Usually he can be reasoned with on this kind of thing. For example, if we have company, or the baby is still awake, or the house is obviously a mess. Or Medium is on---I can explain that it's not possible, and he'll be okay. But now, there is no reasoning with him. He cries hysterically and relentlessly. Another thing he rarely does.

I get the wanting someone to lay with him. I was the same way as a child, so I'm willing to indulge him in that (usually J does the indulging, so I'm totally being a glory hog here, but it is my blog and it's not like he'll ever get this far in the post to even notice, right?) but sometimes it is just not possible. Last night, Danyo was up having a fit, J was gone until midnight, Avee was prancing around the tops of furniture in her room, claiming to not be tired, and it just wasn't feasible to lay with him. He would not be put off.

We knew J had to work until midnight on Monday, so I packed up the kids and we went and had dinner with him. Bo literally cried and sulked the entire meal, as he sat next to J for over an hour, because J wasn't going to be home before he had to go to bed.

I know kids go through phases. I suspect he's tired. I also suspect that he's a bit spoiled. And I suspect that he's bored at school. I don't know if that factors in, I just suspect it based on the schoolwork he's bring home, and his willingness to go every day.

It could really be all about being stir crazy and these ridiculous winters here.

And it could not be.

And since I've gotten some great insights in the past from writing on this here blog, I bring my woes to you again.

Help.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Perhaps We Should Ease Up On The Progressive Indoctrination











First of all, HAPPY









Or, if you live a different sort of lifestyle,



HAPPY


I won't bother telling you how difficult it is to get a picture of two measly words on a 20 month old child's shirt. Ridiculous. By the way, he's 20 months today. All the more reason to celebrate....

So, on to the reason for the title.

Yesterday was a very hard day for Bo. VERY hard. I'm probably gonna write about it more later, so you know, hold on to your hats, it's gonna get exciting!

At one point, he and Avee were fighting over sitting on a little wicker table that isn't for sitting on in the first place.

For the most part I try to let my kids work out their issues before I butt in. It's a little bit of my superior parenting skills combined with a LOT of if-I-have-to-break-up-one-more-fight-someone-is-going-to-end-up-maimed-for-life.

But when one of them resorts to violence, all bets are off. And Bo, (even though Avee's ten times more the bully) pushed Avee so hard she fell down.

So I pulled him over to me and began the spiel. "It is never okay to hit or push or kick. Ever. You will get in trouble every time you do that. There are a million other things you could do, and not one of them is hurting your sister....blah blah blah."

Before I could really get going though, Bo whined so pathetically,
"It's like I'm a black person on a bus and she's white, she just pushed me right out of my seat!"

Before he could finish, I was done fer.

That's when J said, "Perhaps we should ease up on the progressive indoctrination."

In our (my) defense, he learned about Rosa Parks at school. And we've only followed his lead on the whole, "Barack Obama is second only to God and Jesus" business, and naturally Martin Luther King Jr would have his complete and immediate devotion since he has a holiday AND was a civil rights leader AND happened to black as well.

That is all.