I do not want to pack your lunch. I can't even pack my lunch.

You guys, it just took an act of congress to sign-in to my blog.

I am "this many years old" (written with a smug look on my face that says - I am sick of 'I am this many years old'), y'all:

1.  Get my coffee.
2.  Decide, after stewing about two things for two weeks to write it down even though I have 18,000 things to do right now that do not remotely involve me sharing with anyone how I am feeling.
3.  Turn on my laptop.
4.  Check my email (I have deleted all but nine emails after having thousands for years, so sometimes I just check my email even though I know there's only 9 because it makes me feel like I am actually doing something useful in life).
5.  Check my bank account (Because I can, y'all.  I got online banking after 35 years).
6.  Go to my blog's http.
7.  Click 'sign-in.'
8.  Make a confused face when Google asks me what account I'd like to use (5 choices pop-up).  Who are these people?  Why does Google have all these accounts for me?  Did I make them?  Google:  I hate you.  Do I really want to write a blog post?
9.  Pick one randomly.
10.  Cuss when I log-in with a password I have pulled out of my ass (and it works - there might be a God and she knows me) and Google tells me there are no blogs currently for this account.  Would I like to &*%^$*&% start one?  There is no god.
11.  Lose the will to write anything.
12.  Pull my Password Book (titled Password Book) off the shelf.
13.  Cuss as I look at all the pages where I've written UPDATED PASSWORD FOR MY BLOG.  Who am I?  Do I even deserve a blog?  DO I EVEN UNDERSTAND HOW THE INTERNET WORKS?  Decidedly, no and no.
14.  Go to the link under Help that says, "I am a moron and I still cannot log into my blog.  I have tried selling my first born and that has not worked.  Please help me with a step-by-step."  (Google does know me.)
15.  Change my &*%^$^$# email account AND my password AND write it down in the book AND log into my blog.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.  Here we all are, FINALLY.

I no longer remember what I had to write and I am so mad that my fingers are making nice clicking sounds on the keys.

Okay.  Here we go.  The two things I have really quick since I spent most of the time I don't have logging in.

Y'all, why are high school students not packing their own lunches?  This has gotten under my skin so much that it has caused me to gain weight.  I think.

So, I attended a sports meeting with my sophomore the other night and when the coach asked are there any questions a mom said, "Yes.  I pack Tommy his snacks and water bottle, but I just want to make sure that there is water available at the meets that he can access."

Okay.  I communicate with my sophomore girl right now exclusively through texts and side-eyes except when she wants to berate me for like not buying enough blueberries.  I gave her a side-eye at this point that said, "Is she f&*%$^ serious?  Is Tommy in PreK?"

PLEASE NOTE:  I teach PreK and I am not a judge Judy when it comes to parenting.  But, this really got under my skin.  If you are a sophomore in high school and you are involved in sports, should you not know how to ask for water in the Texas heat (which is still above 1000 degrees F)?  AND WHY IS SHE STILL PACKING HIS SNACKS AND WATER BOTTLE???  My kids started packing their lunches (mostly under duress) when they were like in fourth grade.

When I posted this question (innocently, I thought) on Twitter (nothing is innocent on Twitter, I know), I got the interesting response that he might have a condition that would require help.  Yeah, I get that.  I'm a teacher and a parent of four.  But, still.  My PreK kids (some of whom have unique needs) take out all their own snacks and water bottles and fill up their water bottles with minimal assistance.

What I really think is going on here is something I read about last night.  What is happening??  I know now that I am not the only one out there in the universe who does not need to know when my child is picking their nose.  I haven't made dinner in months, you guys, let alone put trackers on my kids' phones.

Maybe this is hitting me so hard because I feel guilty all of a sudden for being such a sub-par parent or maybe it's because I am seeing sooooo many capable, yet helpless PreK students entering my class, or maybe I am turning into a cranky old lady.  I suspect it's all three.  So, yeah.  I just had to get that off my chest.

And the other thing (yeah, go ahead, picture me):

Sophomore girl comes home the other day and tells me and her dad that she learned in her child development class about the character traits parents should have.  Before she even recounted them my thought was, "Maybe I'll have one?"  She carefully pointed out the ones we don't have.  Even collectively.

I am My Kid Tells Me I Shouldn't Have Had Kids years old.



Immediately I thought of all the traits missing from her teacher's list.  Oh, and, lest you think I'm completely heartless (you are not too far off the mark at this point) - lots of big love for HS child development teachers everywhere.  I don't even know how they actually communicate with high school students.

Essential Parenting Traits (short list)

1.  A sense of humor.  Could this one literally not cover for all the other traits you don't have?
2.  The ability to listen attentively to Minecraft drivel you don't understand for literally years even though you are thinking about how many more miles you can drive without running out of gas, is there milk in the fridge, do you have clean underwear for work tomorrow, when is Christmas.
3.  The best playlist to get you through all the feels and to teach your kids what real music sounds like.  (I mean shouldn't that one literally be a requirement for pregnancy?)
4.  The ability to potty train a human without losing life (yours or theirs).
5.  The ability to multi-task while multi-tasking.
6.  The ability to clean up pee, poop, vomit, and any other thing that comes out of a human.
7.  Have enough love in your heart to cover for all the times you screw up like sending your kid to school dressed like they're 100 when it's really only the 99th day of school.  And ice cream.  You're gonna need the ability to buy lots of ice cream after pulling crap like that on your kids.

I'm gonna just stop at seven even though my mind was going on and on.

Then I asked her if the teacher gave them a list of traits teenage girls should have.  She gave me a side-eye.

That's all I got.  I feel a little better after writing it all down.  It's too late to go back.  On most days, I am doing the best I can and I respect parents everywhere doing the best they can.  Sometimes it's hard down here in the trenches.

Below I have included a short video because it restored my faith in our parenting thus far. If our kid makes videos while doing math online and they are so funny I have to watch them like a billion times while still finding things to laugh about, then, yeah.  I think we're doing it ok enough.

102 years later.

today my dad turns 102.  he was born in 1916, and here's a google link to what i found out about that.  i have the upmost respect and love for this man.  and when i wonder about "god" i can say that what i see in him is a light that i will equate with a god.

a list is not adequate, but it's all i have.

1.  he had me when he was as old as i am now.  he'd already had nine children.  i will allow myself to imagine that only for a short time because it sometimes brings me to tears.  i am an "older parent" and our youngest is nine.  (that almost brings me to tears.)  parenting is hard and having an infant right now, for me, would be really hard.  i admire the heck out of him for parenting me like he did.

2.  there are so many great stories when you have been on this earth 102 years.  here's one:  my husband and i had recently moved close to my parents and we went over to their house.  hubby who is an expensive bike enthusiast had a really expensive bike.  because we were living in an apartment without a garage, hubby asked dad to keep his bike in dad's garage.  dad hung it up and hubby, looking at the hook dad had hung it on, asked dad, "jesse, is that hook gonna hold my bike?"  and dad said, "well, if it doesn't, your bike will fall."  classic dad.  pragmatic.  funny.

3.  dad walked almost every single day of his retired life.  for exercise.  and he made a habit of collecting cans (which he traded in for "beer money") and picking up trash while walking.  i could honestly go on and on about this.  but i think the most incredible part about this to me now is that he stopped and picked up trash.  all of it.  because he did not like litter.  i used to be mildly embarrassed by this as a teen.  but now, i cannot stand litter.  i try to pick it up in my neighborhood every morning.  i hope if dad knew this, he would be proud of me.

4.  dad had an amazing green thumb.  he could grow anything.  my mom, when she was alive, used to try to get my dad to like use mulch or water more and dad would just say, "why?  it's growing isn't it?"  i use mulch and water and everything i plant dies.  i did not inherit his green thumb.

5.  my early memories of my dad are of him coloring with me.  and sitting by his feet while he read the newspaper every night.  another memory is that he weekly (?) would bring a vending machine snack home for me and my sister.  this was a rare treat for us.  my mom had these silver measuring cups and my sister would carefully divide the candy evenly into two cups.

6.  words i would use to describe my dad are:  humble, gentle, patient, kind, simple, wise, loving, content, and generous.

7.  my dad crossed the border when he was nine.  there are so many more details about this that i have learned and forgotten.  i hope to see my last living aunt on my dad's side this summer and refresh the details of this because i would like to be able to repeat this story accurately.  some details about dad i do know are that my dad knew no english when he crossed the border, he worked in the fields picking fruit, he served in WWII, he was injured in the Battle of the Bulge, he earned a purple heart, and he earned his high school diploma when I was about 12.

there was a period of time a few years ago when i helped to provide care-taking for my dad.  he still had most of his memory and there were days i would go to his house frazzled and stressed out for one reason or another.  being with him always calmed me down.  he has a way of just making you feel peaceful and purposeful.  for me, seeing dad daily like that was a great time in my life.

when i think about the amazing legacy my dad has, it's pretty cool.  this morning on my run i thought of all my siblings and their kids.  and their kids.  i thought about all the states we live in, the professions we have, the lives we've touched.  without dad, none of that would have been possible.   i thought about all the amazing things i've learned from my dad - way too many for one blog post or even one book.   it's pretty sappy, but it made me feel pretty good at a time when i've been feeling pretty crappy.  even when he doesn't know it and he's not physically with me, he still has the ability to cheer me up.

my dad is in an amazing memory care home now where they take incredible care of him.   his memory fades in and out.  on good days he knows me.  on not so good days i'd like to think he knows i love him.

today we will celebrate him and the great life he's had and i hope that he knows how special he is.

Jesus Take The Wheel

To date my best parenting accomplishment has been potty training four children.  I remember consulting one book and it was called something like Potty Training in 24 Hours.  (That book was mostly a lot of voodoo, but there were some good pointers that I used.  I won't say they were potty trained in 24 hours, but I will claim a moderate to high level of success comparatively evidenced by the fact that more than one friend offered to have me potty train their children.)

When it came to potty training, my kids were quick learners (well, three of them), I managed to be consistent and set the bar high, there were few relapses, and they are all still going strong.

Now, I find myself faced with another difficult parenting challenge which I would like to go down as a Big Accomplishment just like potty training.  I will call this challenge:  Teaching Your Child To Drive (While Not Dying or Killing Others).

This begs the question:  Is there a parenting book dedicated to just this topic?  No?  Well, there should be.  God knows, I've already got enough material for a book.

So, when I knew my son would start to drive I thought hubby would be the frazzled, cursing, white knuckled parent and I would be the cool cucumber blasting the radio with the window down and my hand nonchalantly hanging out.  Hell.  To.  The.  No.  Already.

Hubby is remarkably calm and I am a complete basket case.  Honestly.

I think the best/only way to adequately describe the current situation is a list.

1.  Not only is being a helpless passenger completely nerve wracking for me, when I tried to explain to Boy 1 how I felt being a helpless passenger he said, "Jesus, mom.  How do you think I've felt for 16 years?"  *silence*

2.  The other day while we were waiting (him driving, me a passenger, three girls screaming in the back) in the turn lane to turn left from a four lane road to a six lane road bubba asked, "If an emergency vehicle were to pull up behind me with their siren on, what should I do?"  To which I replied, "Hmm.  Good question.  Ask dad."

Then I said, "I think you should just...I'm not sure...pull out of the way?"  Then bubba said, "Yeah, duh.  But, like where?"

I said, "Well, I'm not sure.  That's a good question.  I'm not sure in 35 years of driving that's ever happened to me.  I think just try to get out of the way and not get hit by another car the best you can.  It's not like that kind of thing happens regularly.  I'm sure by the time it happens to you, you will be far more experienced and just know what to do."

Then it happened yesterday.

And, of course, it was raining and dad wasn't in the car with us.  Just me and six kids.

We  were turning left from a highway access road to a six lane road.  The light was red and Boy 1 was the first person turning left.  An ambulance was suddenly right behind us with his siren on and honking.  My god.  Cursing ensued, Boy 1 was screaming, "*&%&$!!!  MOM, WHAT DO I DO?," the backseat driver (Girl 1) went into high gear screaming, "MOVE OUT OF THE WAY.  WE'RE GONNA DIE.", Girl 2 offered up her "advice" in the form of screaming and cursing, and I'm pretty sure Girl 3 (and possibly me) started crying.  The two friends that were being carted around turned white like ghosts.

It all came out fine, but I think all of our nerves were frayed.  As for myself, I don't even take Xanax, but I felt I needed 10 afterward.

3.  If we had a curse jar in the van, it would be full.  Everyone has started cursing.  I know you're probably snickering at this since I have been known to curse on occasion, but I'm serious.  All the kids (except, honestly, the nine year old) are cursing.  A lot.  You know those signs "Baby on Board"?  We need one.  Crazy Cursing People On Board.

4.  Everything I've known to be true has been called into question.  I'm constantly thinking of driving situations I do not want to be in with Boy 1 or really by myself (in case there's a teen driver near).  I mean, really.  The toddler years are paling in comparison to the fear I have now.  No matter your political affiliation:  Why do we as a society allow teens to drive?

5.  I have seen these signs that you put on your car that say "Student Driver" and some have other things added like "Be Patient" "Don't flip the bird," etc.  So, I thought that would be a great idea for when Boy 1 is driving.  I suggested this to him and he said, "&^%* no, mom.  That is crazy.  I don't want people being nice to me.  I want to experience driving for real.  If everyone is nice to me, I won't really know what real driving is like once that insane sign comes off."

I don't even know how I feel about that.

6.  Why don't people talk more about this?  Why are there not online forums dedicated to Parents of Teen Drivers?  I need a support group.  Or at the very least, more beer.

Boy 1 is working today.  So, no passengering.  I'm going to (happily) drive myself to the grocery store and try to avoid all other cars (in case there's a teen driving).

Happy, safe driving to all of you and just remember that in the next car could be a terrified, white knuckled mom passengering around while her cursing immature teen is learning to drive.  Be patient.  Be kind.  And please, try not to flip the bird.

The purge of summer 2017 in which the wii "disappeared."

As a mom of four, wife of one, I get blamed a lot.  It's my fault when someone doesn't eat breakfast or lunch and is starving and can't wait for dinner.  It's my fault when laundry (that's not mine) stays wet in the washer for 24+ hours.  It's my fault when there's a schedule "miscommunication" and someone has to walk (no one ever has had to walk, but we've done our fair share of unenforceable threatening).  It's my fault when someone doesn't get the item they needed from the grocery store (because I'm a mind reader and can predict everyone's needs and wants).  And on and on.  If we're all honest, it's rarely my fault.  But, sometimes it is.

So, last summer I committed possibly my worst "parenting" (and I say "parenting" because it mostly just affected my kids) mistake to date for which I am still occasionally blamed.

Summer 2017, my son became a minimalist.  He researched it, decided it was for him, and then decided that everything but his bed, desk, technology, and a few clothes were not essential.  Then he encouraged us to start getting rid of our nonessential items crap.  I sorted through things I hadn't seen since the 80's, made piles, put things in boxes, and made about 20 trips to Goodwill.  The minimalist thing worked for us since I like to throw everything away and hubby could stand to throw a lot away.  Also, we are six people living in a teeny, tiny house.

While all of this was happening, we were building a tiny (tinier) house in the back for said son and we were also remodeling our kitchen.  The entire kitchen was packed into boxes and moved into the living room and a fine layer of dust was on every.  thing.  (In case you are wondering, I am still married.)

We also went on two vacations (one out of state) and did all the normal things we do during the summer.  To say that this was stressful does not adequately describe the state of the chaos.  There were boxes for our boxes and in those boxes were more boxes.

We microwaved food  in the living room (where our microwave perched on three boxes) for so long that when we finally moved the microwave back into the kitchen on the brand new black granite countertops, we still headed into the living room to microwave food.  Our dog stopped barking at the workers, and we just got used to people being in our house from 7 to 7.

Anyway.  In the midst of all of this, we got a flat screen TV.  We had said goodbye to our beloved tube TV months before, and finally purchased a flat screen.  When we put our tube TV to the curb for bulky pick-up I had diligently separated out the VCR (yes, we had one), DVD player (because we got a new one of those, too), and what I thought was just a TV contraption thingie and put them all in a box to go to Goodwill.  I distinctly remember (although no one in my house verifies this) asking everyone to go through the box to make sure nothing of value was in the box before I took it to Goodwill.  My story is that this went ignored by all family members.  Their story is that I never asked anyone anything and that I just threw random things in boxes and took them to Goodwill.

Well, eventually the kitchen was finished, we had "minimalized" the house, and we were ready to set everything back in its place.  The kids decided to play a relaxing game of Super Mario to celebrate and they asked me where the Wii had gone.  I said I wasn't sure to look in the boxes that were left.  No one could find the Wii.  Eventually I asked what the Wii looked like.  I'm pretty sure they described the TV contraption thingie that I took to Goodwill.  And that's when the yelling, hysteria, crying, and blaming started.

MOM GAVE THE WII TO GOODWILL.

CAN YOU BELIEVE MOM GAVE THE WII TO GOODWILL?

MOM DOESN'T KNOW WHAT A WII LOOKS LIKE AND SHE GAVE IT TO GOODWILL.

WE DON'T HAVE OUR WII ANYMORE BECAUSE OUR MOM GAVE IT TO GOODWILL.

DAD - MOM GAVE THE WII TO GOODWILL!

CAN WE GO TO GOODWILL AND BUY IT BACK?

I swear to God.  It's been almost a year and there is still hate about the Wii.  My 15 year old daughter (self-proclaimed Super Mario expert - I'm not sure what level, but she knows everything about Super Mario) is about to purchase a new/used Wii with her own money and my kids are crazy excited about the prospect of having a Wii again.

As you could guess, I haven't missed the Wii (God knows I couldn't even recognize the damn thing).  But I must say a part of me is looking forward to hearing that catchy Super Mario tune again and maybe practicing my dance moves with Just Dance.

It took a long time for the kids to forgive and forget not bring this up on a daily basis.  There was a little retribution a few weeks after the Wii was discovered missing.  I went to do my favorite ab/core workout video and all I could find was the DVD cover.  At that point all the boxes were unpacked so I could not imagine where it had gone.  Then it occurred to me.  It was in the old DVD player.

I was pissed.  I regretted putting the tube TV to the curb.  I regretted putting all the old crap in boxes.  Hell, at that point I considered going to all the 27 Goodwills in our city and hunting down our Wii and DVD player, and our VCR for that matter.  I thought about the great deal someone got on our Wii and the DVD player.  With my favorite DVD in it!  

I take responsibility.  I mistakingly gave a perfectly working Wii to Goodwill.  But, like many people, I have served my sentence.  Karma played her hand and there went my DVD that kept me in shape.  I now have no core muscles and no visible abs.  I tell my kids, "Mom has served her time."  I lift my shirt slightly to show my muffin top and silence ensues.  The kids shrink out of the kitchen mumbling indecipherable comments.  Sometimes the gods just put everything in place.

Case closed.  Score even.

The end.

some of my more notable traits

years ago when the kids were little i read in some parenting book that to encourage your kids to appreciate and truly care for each other it is sometimes helpful to do activities to encourage love.  of course, i tried them all and experienced moderate success.  my kids are older now and they still fight like crazy people, but i'd like to think that somewhere in their hearts they do love each other.  (this is certainly questionable and up for debate.)

so, we used to do this activity where we said things we loved about each other.  a variation of this activity that the kids started doing lately is to say things about each other that they wish they had for themselves.  they are usually physical traits (three of my four kids are quite vain), but if i am within hearing distance i try to encourage more altruistic traits like, y'know, "i love your enthusiasm for life," "i love your calm nature in the face of extreme stress."  but, usually they just continue with, "i love your cheekbones.  i really wish i had them."  "i love the number of instagram followers you have."  (because, y'know, they're teenagers, not humanitarians.)

the other day, while the four of them were playing the "game," girl 2 said, "oh my god!  i know!  let's have mom play with us!  let's all think of traits of mom's we'd love!!!"

*crickets*

after a good two minutes of complete silence, girl 1 (the one child who is not vain and who is actually quite profound), said, "well, i'd have to say, and this might sound really shallow, if i had to have one of mom's traits, i'd really love her hairlessness."

happy mother's day!  i hope it was........waxed.

In Which I Go To A Movie Theatre

I am not being paid by Disney to do this review, but really I should be.

Mr. DayInTheLife and I took two of our kids to see a movie last night.  We are not movie theatre goers.  So I am proud to say that if this is the only theatre movie we see in all of 2015, we made an excellent choice.

Why Seeing a Pre-Screening of McFarland USA Yesterday Evening With My Family Was The Best Decision I've Made Since Earlier Yesterday When I Ate a Whole Not a Half of a Cinnamon Roll


"McFarland, USA poster" by Source. Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:McFarland,_USA_poster.jpg#mediaviewer/File:McFarland,_USA_poster.jpg

I encourage you to click the link, but if you are not inclined to do so here is the premise of the movie from The Google: 

 

Track coach Jim White (Kevin Costner) is a newcomer to a predominantly Latino high-school in California's Central Valley. Coach White and his new students find that they have much to learn about one another, but things begin to change when White realizes the boys' exceptional running ability. More than just physical prowess drives the teens to succeed; their strong family ties, incredible work ethic and commitment to their team all play a factor in forging these novice runners into champions.

 

1.  The boys' families in the movie are migrant workers.  Nearly all of our kids' grandparents were migrant workers at some point in their lives and just like the families in the movie they worked hard to ensure a better life for their kids.  I am not sure my kids knew what exactly migrant workers were until last night.  Now, they know.  Don't worry, I am not that naïve to think that a Disney portrayal of migrant life would nail it completely, but at least we are further along in the explanation than we were before the movie. 

2.  This movie borders on sappy a few times, but it is a great family movie that, unless you are completely heartless, will have you cheering.

3.  There is no sex, no violence, no drugs, and nothing really of questionable content.  And yet, it tells a pretty amazing story of perseverance in the face of incredible odds.

4.  I am an ex-teacher and I will always have a special place in my heart for teachers.  As rainbows and unicorns as this sounds, I truly believe teachers can change lives for the better.  Of course, there is the flip-side of that coin and I believe whole-heartedly in that, too.  This is a story in which the teacher/coach changes lives for the good.  And, yet (as you will see at the end of the movie when script is run about what happened to all the real life characters) life still happens and just because you are a high school phenomena does not mean you will not still make some poor decisions.

5.  I ran cross country track in high school.  I can't say this brought back any fond memories for me.  I mostly hated cross country track and I wasn't fast.  And, now I think you know I run because I love to eat.  Despite that, I thought about these boys today on my run.  I tried not to because I really hate sentimentality.  But I couldn't help it.  They made me not be so whiny in my head.  Me not whiny?  That's powerful stuff.

This movie made me happy.  It's the right stuff.  It's based on events that really happened that make for a great story.  It's about real people that worked amazingly hard and it paid off for them. 

McFarland USA premieres February 20.  Get yer' butts off the sofa and take some loved ones to see it!  You'll thank me after.

Didn't we do this already?

My kids are freaking me out.

I was at a conference the other day and the speaker said that middle school students and preteens behave a lot like toddlers.  Yes and yesser. 

I made you a list because I can't think about some of these things for too long or I think my head will explode or I will have to sanitize myself head to foot.

1.  Toddlers need their butts wiped.  My teenage/preteen bathroom is constantly out of toilet paper.  Until I replace it.  This begs the critical question:  How are they wiping their butts?

2.  Ditto for toothpaste.

3.  Meltdowns.  Toddlers meltdown because you won't let them play with sharp scissors.  My thirteen year old and preteens meltdown because I won't let them see The Interview.

4.  Food issues.  Toddlers just want to eat hot dogs and Polly Pocket accessories.  My teenagers just want to eat carbs and Lindt  chocolates.

5.  Clothing issues.  Toddler girls want to wear the Snow White dress everywhere.  All the time.  If you say no, see #3.  Teenagers and preteens have to do their own laundry and when there is no more underwear instead of doing their laundry see #3.

6.  Which brings me to Clean Up, Clean Up, This is How We Clean Up.  Remember that?  Toddlers hate it.  Usually it's like the Clean Up music cues #3.  Ditto for teenagers.  I tell them to do their chores and it's like I am saying, "Katy Perry is dead.  Now, move on with your lives." 

7.  Toddlers will make you a faithful follower in the religion of Reverse Psychology.  If you say, "Do NOT put that in your mouth," said item will immediately go in their mouth.  I scream to my teens, "TURN THAT MUSIC DOWN RIGHT NOW."  Immediately the volume raises a number.  Your sanity is called into question daily because you want to just say, "Y'know what?  PLAY YOUR MUSIC AT FULL VOLUME AND PRESS YOUR EAR RIGHT TO THE SPEAKER.  YOU WILL NOT BE DEAF IN A MATTER OF SECONDS."

8.  Pushing my buttons.  Scientifically based on my six years raising toddlers, they are born with an instinctive ability to know what will make you plumb crazy and they do it 24/7.  With a smile usually.  Ditto for teenagers/preteens.  Daily I say through gritted teeth, "Do not roll your eyes at me."  Usually this is met with another eye roll (add a smirk).

9.  Toddlers do this thing where they become limp in the grocery store.  Like a cat who has been given a sedative.  Teenagers do that same thing.  Often times in the morning when it's time to get up for school.  Or sometimes when they have to do #6 and they don't go straight to #3.

10.  I'm pretty sure it's based on science that toddlers can melt your heart in less than a nanosecond (and if you are not a rocket scientist, that's pretty damn fast).  Surprise, surprise.  Teenagers can do the same.

Aw!  Happy endings, y'all!  Turns out my teenager and preteens have not made me totally bitter yet.  I still have a heart!

Memory Making 2014 (in which I do math).

So, recently I have been learning that you need an advanced college degree and a year to do nothing but plan in order to successfully get a family of six to Disneyworld.

We recently made our annual trip to a smaller scale amusement park (and by smaller scale I mean:  no college degree needed and - I can imagine - slightly less gleaming restrooms?) and although I would do it again (in approximately 360 days) I think a time allowance chart for less experienced parents on par with the Disneyworld planning blogs might be helpful.

I wanted to make you guys a pie graph (blueberry?) for this post, but I got too distracted with colors and accurate percentages and I was afraid that before I knew it my oldest would be filling out college applications and hubby would be asking me (again), "What are you doing?" 

Amusement Park Trip Time Breakdowns (approximate) For a Family of Six's Ten Hour Day 

1.  20% - walking around lost because everyone is too excited and then too hot to look at the map.
2.  20% - waiting for all the rides to open because you get there at Opening Time because you think logically it's the time the rides open. 
3.  50% - explaining that your admission ticket does not cover the cost of all the carny games that actually open at Opening Time and that there isn't really a "Winner every time!"
4.  60% - waiting in line for drinks because you waited until August to go and it's 106 degrees outside with 117% humidity.
5.  60% - waiting in line for bathrooms (see #4).
6.  20% - yelling at kids not to touch anything in the bathroom.
7.  40% - touching things in the public bathrooms (this applies to kids under 5 who you've told not to touch anything see #6).
8.  60% - in line for rides because of all the people using the Flash Pass.
9.  40% - explaining to four kids that yes, the rules are different for people with more money.  They don't have to wait in line with The Other People at amusement parks. 
10.  20% - applying sunscreen.
11.  40% - examining all the nuts and bolts on the two rides you convince yourself to go on.
12.  75% - praying your kids don't get their bathing suits stuck up their rears requiring surgical removal from the ride they continue going on which they proclaim loudly and enthusiastically gives them "a major wedgie".
13.  95% - in line for a funnel cake on the way out the door (right behind the approximately 1005 people who had the same idea).
14.  2% - inhaling said funnel cake with five other people.
15.  50% - talking about where to buy a funnel cake maker and what exactly is in a funnel cake that makes it so good. 
16.  50% - exclaiming repeatedly how that funnel cake is the best use of $10 since you bought two Frappuccino's in a row.
17.  20% - proclaiming earth shattering sentences that start with, "When we come next year..."
18.  20% - proclaiming equally earth shattering sentences that start with, "Remember last year..."
19.  100% - enjoying the heck out of the last days of summer.

No danger of lost bottoms or a wedgie.  And?  When I go next year I'm wearing the same red suit.

It's all fun and games till the poop runs out of the diaper.

So, remember I said I was going to a baby shower?  Well, I did and it was fun.  We played all the standard games and despite being the somewhat successful mother of four children ("successful" in that all of my kids are still alive) I sucked at most all of them.  My lack of short and long term memory got in the way.  I got my clothes pin stolen after I'd worn it for about three minutes.  We couldn't say "baby" and I immediately referenced how I didn't win any games at my baby shower.  Duh.  I forgot not to say the word after three minutes.  (I knew I should have written it down.)

Anyway.  We played baby charades which was amusing.  Amusing because it's always fun to see what people will do under the guise of "acting it out."  The friend who is having the baby did an Oscar worthy silent interpretation of putting butt cream on a baby's a$$.  It was her two-fingered approach that made one of our team members (it might have been me) scream "DIAPER CREAM!"

But, here's the thing.  The words we had to act out (that I can remember) were:  diaper cream, stroller, baby food, diaper, diaper genie, wipes, baby backpack, robe (I had this one and made the mistake of buttoning rather than tying my robe which prevented any of my teammates from guessing the word.  They were screaming at me, "WHO BUTTONS A BABY'S ROBE???"  My question to them was, "WHOSE BABY WEARS A FREAKING ROBE???  HUGH HEFNER'S?  Cheesus.). 

Now, it's been nearly six years since I had an infant underfoot (figuratively), but I have a somewhat different memory of how infancy went down.  Here are a few words and situations that I'd like to see on the cards in a baby shower charade game.

• cleaning around the future bellybutton
• sore nipples
• ear infection
• projectile vomiting
• meconium
• poop outside the diaper
• breast pump
• being peed on while changing a diaper
• peeing while balancing a nursing baby
• brushing your teeth for the first time in a week
• mastitis
• severe sleep deprivation
• carpal tunnel from carrying the car seat
• colic
• spit-up
• spit-up stains

Let's face it, 90% of the next 18 years of this soon-to-be momma's life is going to be spent dealing with, discussing, or thinking about food, $hit, cleanliness, pain, or sleep. 

Might as well get an early start with it?

I'm not saying I'm better than you. I'm saying I'm better than all of you.

Girl 2 - "Seeing a glacier" is on my bucket list.

Girl 1 - Going to college is on my bucket list.

Boy Child - What?  "Going to college" is not a bucket list item.  It's a goal.  Learn the difference.  Yeesh.

Girl 3 - DIGGING A HOLE TO CHINA IN THE SANDBOX ON THE PLAYGROUND IS ON MY BUCKET LIST.  Mom, what's a bucket list?

Boy Child - Oh my gosh, Girl 3.  You can't even dig a hole to China.  That's impossible.  Pick something in between "Going to college" and "Digging a hole in the sandbox to CHINA" and that's what should be on your bucket list.

Boy Child - Guess what's on my bucket list.

Me - Hang gliding?

Boy Child - Close.  Parachuting from an airplane.

Girl 2 - Seeing a glacier is much more exciting.

Boy Child - Oh yeah?  Not when I'm going to be parachuting from an airplane into the center of a glacier.

Does comedy pay well? How about bad comedy?

Me:  This pain in my lower back is awful.  It's radiating down to my thigh now.

Boy Child:  Wow.  That sounds bad.

Me:  (Is this concern?  Is this concern for his mother???)  Yeah, it is.

Boy Child:  So, it's radiating down to your thigh?  And are you sure this pain is not just in your head?

Me:  (Wait.  This does not sound like concern.  This sounds like something else.)  (In my tight lipped impatient mom voice.)  Yes.  I am quite sure it's not in my head.

Boy Child:  Then it sounds like you might need a thighchiatrist.

There it is.

Top Ten Excuses for 2013

1.  I'm in the bathroom.

2.  I'm minecrafting.

3.  I'm eating Takis and my mouth is burning and my hands are covered with orange goo.

4.  I'm in the bathroom minecrafting.

5.  I'm having growing pains.

6.  The dog ate it.  No, really, mom.  The dog ate it.

7.  Oh, I thought you were gonna do it.

8.  I'm minecrafting right after I finish these Takis.

9.  But, I did that last week.

10.  It's Monday (Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, my birthday, Valentines' Day, St. Patrick's Day, Easter, Flag Day, the Fourth of July, the Fifth of July, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Easter, Halloween, Colombus Day, Rosh Hashanah, the day after my birthday, etc., etc.)!  Do I have to do that today?  

Further evidence

Santa brought Girl 2 an American Girl Doll movie for Christmas.  Santa was tired and shopping black Friday sales, so apparently he didn't realize that the movie was about bullying.  She is not struggling with bullying and doesn't really need this message, but (I guess) Santa was thinking ahead and wanted her to know how to deal with bullying should the need ever arise?  (Thanks, Santa.)

So, me and the girls were sitting around watching the movie and hubby passed by. 

He watched for about five minutes and witnessed about five incidences of fairly fierce mean girl bullying of the main character, Chrissa.

Then, he mumbled, "If that woulda been me, this woulda been a short movie."

If you are in front of the bus, do not turn right (or something like that).

Some signs are jacked up, right?  I mean driving is pretty simple, but some signs are just nuts.

Well, when I read, "NO RIGHT TURN IN FRONT OF THE BUS," which is the sign that is on the back of every city bus in our fine city, I have always figured that's pretty straightforward. 

Until this.

Boy Child (in the Yukon Cornelius - behind a city bus):  Mom, I've never understood that sign, "NO RIGHT TURN IN FRONT OF THE BUS."

Me:  What's not to understand?  You can't turn right in front of the bus.

Boy Child:  I get that.  But, why?

Me:  Um.  Duh.  Because the bus will smack you?

Boy Child:  Huh?

Me:  BECAUSE THE BUS WILL SMACK YOU.

Boy Child:  How?  I don't get that.

Me:  (While driving because it's safe to take both hands off the wheel if you are trying to illustrate a dangerous driving technique with your hands...........while driving.)  Okay.  Look.  Pretend my left hand is our truck and my right hand is the bus.  So, here we are driving and I go to make a right turn in front of the bus.  And, BAM.  The bus smacks me.  Now do you get it?

Boy Child:  OOOOOOOOOOOH!  I have always thought that NO RIGHT TURN IN FRONT OF THE BUS meant that if you were driving in front of the bus you could never make a right turn.  Get it?  And like how would you ever be able to get where you were going?  Y'know like pretend my left hand is us..............

Me:  I get it.  But if that were the scenario how would you even be able to read the sign.

Boy Child:  Good point.

photo courtesy:  www.smosh.com 

I predict a long future of living at home.

You may want to read about this before reading this post.  Or, if you're not all that into reading feel free to just forge ahead.

Considering the transition to middle school has been a bit rough, I was giving Boy Child the "run down" on the way to the bus stop this morning.

Me:  Do you have your lunch?  Your homework?  Your gym clothes?  Your sax?  Your Essential Elements book?  DO YOU HAVE EVERYTHING?

Boy Child:  Jeez.  Yes, mom.  I have everything.  Oh!  I forgot to tell you something important!  I can't believe I almost forgot!

Me:  Let me guess - you have an important paper for me to sign?

Boy Child:  No, jeez.  I said important, mom.  Guess what happened yesterday!

Me:  Can't wait to hear.

Boy Child:  I SAW A UFO.

Me:  Really?  Really, son.  You saw a UFO?

Boy Child:  Yes!!!

Me:  Okay!  Have a great day at school!  I love you!

Boy Child (looking at me with a look that is usually reserved for cancer and death):  Wait.  I read this book one time and....

Me:  WAIT!  I know what you're going to say.  The book had the phone number to call if you saw a UFO?

Boy Child:  Jeez, mom.  How'd you know that?  That's kinda creepy the way you did that.  Yeah, I really wish I had that number now.

Me (rife with sarcasm):  Yeah, now would be the perfect time to report.

Boy Child (with a look of insane seriousness):  No kidding!  I gotta get that book back!!!!

P.S.  I walked back in the house and found his lunch sitting on the kitchen table.

P.S.S.  Just found Essential Elements on the table.  Cheese N. Rice.

Or maybe you will?

 

The Girl Who Lived in a Prophylactic. *Almost* sounds like a movie, right?

Conversation in the Yukon Cornelius.

Girl 1:  Mom, why does Patsy (name changed to protect the innocent) live in a condom?

Me:  Um.  EXCUSE ME?

Girl 1:  Wait.  No, that's not right.  Not a condom.  A condominium.

Me:  Cheesus.  Wait.  Who lives in a condominium???  Sometimes called a CONDO.  NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH A CONDOM.

Girl 1:  Which, by the way, what is a condom again?

Me:  Can we have this conversation another time?  Please?

Girl 1:  Yes, it's okay, mom.  Anyway I'm pretty sure I know and now I feel just silly for making that mistake, but I'm so glad it was with you and not, y'know, the public?

Me:  Yes.  Me, too.

Girl 1:  So, why does she live in a condo?  That's like those double houses, right?  Oh, wait.  That's complex, right?  Not, like I have a complex, but like she lives in a complex.  Wait.  Is it a complex?  It's something that sounds like condo and complex.

Me:  CHEESUS.  A DUPLEX???

Girl 1:  THAT'S IT!!!  A DUPLEX!!!  Jeez, mom.  What took you so long to say the right word?

A. None of the above. B. All of the above. C. What is the above. D. The teacher is crazy.

Heated conversation with one of my children in the Yukon Cornelius (whose AC is broken - thank you 112 degree "fall" weather) after he/she told me he/she got an "F" on a quiz.

Me:  So what exactly was the problem because an "F" was certainly not the first grade I was expecting you to get on a quiz the second week of school?  Was this review???  

(I did exhibit extreme self-control by not ending with, "FOR GOD'S SAKE.")

Child:  Well, the quiz was only 10 questions.  I legitimately got three wrong.  But, the fourth one just didn't make any sense.

Me:  How do you mean?

Child:  Well, the answers made no sense.

Me:  How do you mean?

Child:  Well, the correct answer was "None of the above."

Me:  So, what's weird about that?  By this time you should be familiar with answers such as:  None of the above, All of the above, A and C, B and D, F and F!, I mean B and C.

Child:  Well, here's the thing, "None of the above" is usually the last answer.  This "None of the above" was the first answer.  Y'know? 

Me:  Like it was A?

Child:  Yeah.

Me:  Well, did  you know that all the other answers were wrong?

Child:  Yeah, weird, but I did actually know that.

('Weird' indeed.)

Me:  So, wouldn't it have made sense that none of the answers were right?  Like, "None of the above," implies?

Child:  Well, no because there was nothing above the "None of the above" except for the previous question.  It should have said, "None of the below."

Me:  So, what did you mark?

Child:  One of the wrong answers.  And I got it wrong!  Can you believe that?  If you ask me that's just crazy.  The teacher's just crazy.  "None of the above" wasn't technically the right answer.

Me:  *Banging my sweaty head on the steering wheel.*

What's the best time to call you? Millertime? (I'm guessing that's not the right answer?)

I haven't been posting in a while.  Here's mostly why:

1.  Boy child is now playing the alto sax.  When I first found out he was going to play this instrument I pictured him playing jazz while I sipped a smooth drink.  That hasn't happened so far.  It's more like a cacophony of sound that makes you want to stab yourself.  Everyday it happens for 20 minutes during which time I cannot do anything but sit down and breathe slowly.

2.  About three weeks ago Girl 3 threw a laptop through the front window.  There are three positive aspects of this story. 

• It was a toy laptop (that weighed probably more than the real laptops).
• Our windows are cheap, but double paned.  Only one pane shattered.  We still haven't fixed it because we are those ghetto neighbors.
• She was really aiming at her brother's head, not the window.  Wait.  How is that a positive?  I can't remember.

This brought all "summer fun" to a screeching halt and four short people were enlisted into the Mommy Hell Camp for the remainder of the summer.  Barking orders at them and consistently disciplining (consistently) really took it all out of me.  I really wanted us to go to family counseling after this incident or at least write a letter to Prudie.  Sadly, I don't believe in counseling and our insurance doesn't pay for counseling (I think) until a small animal dies and I remember hearing Prudie retired? 

So, I diagnosed us myself. 

Diagnosis?  We are crazy.

3.  I hurt myself.  It's an annoying kind of painfully painful pain (that's the scientific description) and so far (based on Google) I might have:

• A sprained or fractured lumbar
• A tumor in my back
• Kidney disease
• Sciatica
• Pregnancy
• Endemitriosis
• Scoliosis
• Kidney stones
• Osteoarthritis or
• Fibromyalgia

I might live a lot longer with this pain.  Or I might die.  Google doesn't seem to really be that specific.  I haven't exercised in about four weeks and I have so much fat and stress in my body that I feel like I might spontaneously combust at any moment.  On the upside if that happens, I may get the medical and psychiatric help I need.

4.  My kids started school.  This means I have spent the last two days filling out paperwork.

• What's the best time to call you?
• Have you read the discipline policy?
• Is your child allowed to access the internet at school?
• Where do you work?
• Do you understand that if his electronic device breaks at school it is not the school's fault?
• Have you had a criminal background check?
• What race are you?
• Do you want to volunteer?
• Do you want to sell a box of The World's Finest Chocolate?

Two days in and I already want them to drop out.

5.  Two of my favorite bloggers closed down their blogs.  They were both really great writers.  One of them was related to me, so naturally she was/is amazingly talented.  So, of course it made me sad.  But it also made me want to shut mine down and sent me into this crazy tailspin.  Some kind of weird funk came over me (not the stinky kind) and I just decided to quit and do something I'm good at. 

But, then I couldn't think of anything to do, so I just tried to remember that Laughter Is The Best Medicine and I (wasted some good time that I could have been effectively and consistently disciplining my children or telling the schools where I work) Googled some really funny shiz. 

Real people doing their thing. 

I love them and I laugh like it's the first time every time. 

And, thanks, you guys for writing such funny stuff too that always makes me laugh. 

And, happy Labor Day because this one post took me three days to write and now it's a holiday!

It's hard to grow up. But, I guess not as hard as having a raccoon dog in your backyard rather than just a plain raccoon?

Hello.  Remember me?  Ms. Day In The Life?

Normally I operate this blog and write about my mildly funny and mostly dysfunctional life.

Lately I've just been feeling nostalgic as summer slips quickly through my fingers.

So, this is going to be a post about nothin'.  (And thank you, auto correct, but I meant to say nothin.')

1.  I have not been busy posting, but I have been busy reading all of my favorite blogs.  I read this one today and it made me cry like a big 'ole baby.  It's almost as if the writer had been hanging out in my house this summer (in a totally non-creepy way).  And really I rarely cry so either I am pre-menopostal, or it's a really good post (I suspect the latter).

2.  This awesome lady who used to live in my neighborhood before she up and moved across the globe, has been back in our neighborhood for the whole month of July.  I like my blog, but not as much as I like having coffee, and dishing it up with her.  She's like the mac-n-cheese of friends (and I hope when she reads this she will know what a huge compliment that is) and it's been splendid having her here.

3.  Being with my four kids all summer day and night has..............not been without its challenges.  The fighting, teasing, arguing, and screaming has taken on new heights and most of the time I feel like this: 

Sometimes I'm the ref.  Sometimes I'm the boxer.

4.  My very good friend, and frequent blog visitor has moved to a different neighborhood.  Insert any one of a gazillion sad emoticons or possibly a cat crying because her best cat friend has moved.....and the cat is roller skating carrying a birthday cake........but, I digress. 

I knew this move was coming for a long time, but I'm not good at change (let's face it, I'm still trying to get rid of my 80's haircut and make-up).  The reality of her being gone faster than George and Weezie Jefferson (albeit just about 15 miles away, and I do own a car, and there is a Starbucks on the way - four or five in fact) is starting to sink in.  It does help tremendously that so far, like Joe Walsh, fame and fortune haven't changed her.  And she has already graciously let us crash her obnoxiously fabulous home and beautiful pool.  Mrs. JustAHausWeyef, this one is for you:

5.  Lastly, there is no time like summer in Texas to make you second guess not investing in cable television.  There.  is.  nothing.  on.

So, night before last we sat down as a family and watched Nova on PBS.  Well, I am *kinda* lying.  We sat down to watch America's Got "Some" Talent as a family, but this family friendly show had some lewd sex jokes on it, so we flipped channels and that's how we got to Nova on PBS.

And, I found out about raccoon dogs.

Not familiar with them either?  Well, don't worry.  Here's a photo for you:

photo credit:  www.factzoo.com.  If you just yelped, "CHEESUS!" and backed away from the screen, don't worry you are not alone.  Oh, and it's mildly disturbing that it kinda looks like they put this rac-dog on a fluffy bed to take this photo??? 

 

I might be feeling like time is spinning out of control what with losing my baby boy and one of my bestest friends, but at least I don't have raccoon dogs digging up my garbage?! 

So, thanks, PBS!  With quality programming like you, I can take the heat and I don't even miss cable!

How to Approach Your "Baby" Going to Middle School With Sanity and Clarity

1.  Allow your pessimistic nature to completely overshadow any vestige of optimism about the future of your middle schooler that you could have managed.

2.  Read and listen to any article or news program about the prevalence of bullying in middle school in all countries of the world and possibly the moon and other universes.

3.  Second guess every decision you have ever made with said child all the way back to the decision for no epidural....and possibly your choice of a father (just kidding, hubby....that was only after I had exhausted all other things to worry about....oh, and after a few beverages).

4.  Encourage and then finally nag your hubby until he is forced to have "the talk" with your soon-to-be-middle-school boy so that hubby is so nervous that his awkward conversation about growing up elicits a look from your son that looks something like this:

photo courtesy:  cdn.sheknows.com

 and you are still not exactly sure if your son knows How Babies Are Born.

5.  Question the years you have invested in piano lessons.  Should you have opted for krav maga lessons instead?

6.  Begin to treat your soon-to-be-middle-schooler like a two year old and attempt to do things that he hasn't let you do in years:  tuck him in, read him books, kiss his cheek.

7.  And, in a reverse of opinion to #6 worry obsessively about all the things he still doesn't know and attempt to teach him a little about all these things in the few short weeks left of fifth grade.  (How to cook, How to launder, How to make a bed properly, How to treat girls, How to find a wife, How to drive, How to say no to drugs, How to do karate, etc.)  (And, by the way, this will again elicit The Look pictured in #4.)

8.  Write about all your fears on the Internet so that good friends, loyal readers, and random strangers can console you and tell you everything will be just fine.  (Except if it isn't.)

This was guest posted over at one of my favorite blogs This is Mommyhood.  Thank you, Elle.  xoxo!