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.

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.

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?

 

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!

Of course she does.

We have a four year old who can be a bit of a challenge.  So, we have decided to be proactive in discussing the upcoming 2013-2014 school year.  This was our conversation today:

Hubby to Girl 3:  When school starts this year, remember you are going to behave appropriately, right?

Girl 3:  Yup.

Hubby:  Listening to the teacher, respecting the other children, obeying the teacher.  Right?

Girl 3:  Yup.

Me:  When the teacher asks you to do something what should your response be?

Girl 3:  YES, SIR!

Me:  And, on the off chance that you have a female teacher?

Girl 3:  I MEAN, YES MA'AM!

Hubby:  And, how do we treat our friends?

Girl 3:  We buy them lots of ice cream!

Hubby (snickering):  Before we buy them ice cream.

Girl 3:  WE BE NICE TO THEM!

Hubby:  And, you remember consequences, right?  For inappropriate behavior?

Girl 3:  Hmm.  What are consequences again?

Hubby:  Like no night-time book, or losing movie, or losing family time?

Girl 3:  Oh, yeah.

Hubby:  Or losing your birthday!

Girl 3 (giggling wildly):  I CAN'T LOSE MY BIRTHDAY, SILLY DADDY!

Me:  Well, remember we talked about your birthday party and how you need to show us some appropriate behavior before we can decide whether or not you can have a birthday party?

Girl 3:  Oh, yeah.

Me:  Tell daddy where you might want your party.

Girl 3:  RIGHT HERE AT THE HOUSE!

Hubby:  And, what kind of party?

Girl 3:  You mean what kind of theme?

Hubby:  Yeah, I guess.  What kind of theme?

Girl 3:  Hmm.  I THINK BEAVERS!  YES!!!  BEAVERS!!!  I WANT A BIG BEAVER PARTY HERE AT THE HOUSE!!!

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!

How to Survive the Second to the Last Month of School

1.  Invest in a quality set of ear plugs.  These will be helpful for handling the increased decibel level of sibling rivalry, the incessant chatter from young children, the high decibel level of homework complaints, and the torturous wails of children who are being asked to perform a chore or necessary task.

2.  Buy a good quantity of matches to light a fire under your kids' arses.  Instead of becoming more proficient at something your kids have been doing for approximately 135 days (that is:  getting up, getting dressed, eating breakfast, getting their lunches together, brushing their teeth, combing their hair, and making it out to the bus in the nick of time), sometime during the second to the last month of school they will oddly regress to the stage of toddlerhood where everything must be repeated 8000 times and they move as if they have Aunt Jemima syrup running in their veins.

3.  Stock up on carbs, adult beverages, greasy and/or salty food, and chocolate and/or other sweets.  This is kind of a paradox because although you have approximately 30 days until someone might possibly have to see you in a bathing suit and way less than 30 days to actually go to a store and try on bathing suits (with bad lighting and pasty skin) and therefore you should really be trying everything to lose the 10 pounds of winter weight you have gained, the stress of the second to the last month of school is going to make you want to shovel in every morsel of not-good-for-you food that you can possibly get a hold of.

4.  Carefully launder and neatly pack away all of your kids' winter clothes items and launder all of the blankets and other linens that you are not going to need for six and a half months.  And then just pack them all away dirty and unorganized again after dragging them all back out because Mother Nature decides to leave you with just one more cold snap.

5.  Plan and pay for your summer vacation so that you can use the following threat against your kids each and every time they misbehave or act as if they are about to misbehave from now until your summer vacation:  IF YOU DON'T STOP DOING THAT (or IF YOU DO THAT ONE MORE TIME, or IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT DOING THAT) YOU ARE GOING TO STAY HOME ALONE WHILE WE ARE ALL ON THE WHITE SANDS BEACHES OF TAHITI.  (I use that only as an example.  If we were actually going to Tahiti on vacation this would be an alternate universe.)

6.  Begin to scope out every Vacation Bible School in the city so that you can register your kids for each and every one.  In this way your kids can be well-rounded Christians.  (I don't actually do that because once my kids attend the only VBS they have ever attended I am pretty sure that VBS puts out an APB on my kids along with their photos so that every other VBS in the city is on alert for them and is ready to put out the "full" sign should I come along with my application.)

7.  Begin to make a list of all the things that you are going to get done once school lets out for the summer.  Gradually cross things off the list because as reality sinks in they are way too difficult to achieve with kids in the home.  Add all those things to your current daily lists and stare at that until you become too overwhelmed to move.  Eat or drink some of the food or beverages referred to in #3.

8.  Spend a good eight hours painstakingly making a summer budget wherein you assess what your home needs in terms of a "face lift", research how much these items might cost, and who might do these repairs for you.  Then, patiently pay for the following things that break before you can even cash your quickly disappearing tax refund check:  the air conditioner, the water heater, the dog, the hair dryer, the printer, and the tub.

9.  Change your calendar to May even though it's still April.  (And if it was still on February - consider that a bonus.)  April is going to slide by in a blur of school events, end of year shenanigans, empty beer cans (that you can't really remember drinking), birthday parties (damn the August heat - or something -  that apparently led to 90% of my kids' friends being born in April), piles of work (some of it the result of March's procrastination), summer vacation planning, budgeting, and worthless attempts at fitness in order to fit into a bathing suit.  Most of the $hit that happens in April will not even make it on your calendar.  Trust me on this one.

10.  Remember - if all else fails, you can always homeschool next year!  (That almost always gets me into the right frame of mind to make it through the day!)

What to do if you are abducted by aliens.

Boy child this morning in the Yukon Cornelius:  Mom, I know the number to call if you are abducted by aliens.

Me:  Really?

Boy:  Yeah.  It's xxx-xxx-xxxx.

Me:  Wouldn't it be more helpful to memorize something you could actually use if you were in trouble?  Like, for example, my cell?

Boy:  Well, I already know your cell and seriously, mom.  What are you talking about???  You are in trouble if you are being abducted by aliens!  Duh!

Me:  Where did you get this number?

Boy:  Oh, I'm reading this book about UFO sightings and abductions and stuff and in the back they have all these resources like who to call and websites to research when it happens.

Me:  Well, I think that's where your confusion might be.  The number in the back of the book is probably to call after you've experienced an abduction or seen a UFO.  Y'know to report it?  Not while you're actually experiencing your abduction.

Boy:  Well, yeah.  Duh.  While you are being abducted you need to call 911, mom.

Me:  Oh.  And how do you think that's going to go over, bub?  911 responder:  Sir, what's your emergency?  You:  I'm being abducted by aliens.  Seriously, bub?  They *might* think you are half cracked.

Boy:  Well, mom.  I don't care what they think!  I'm telling you what to do if you are abducted by aliens.  Yeesh.  You should thank me.

Me:  Thank you.

Let's hope unicorning pays well.

I'd like to come up with a normally scheduled and/or regular series of posts entitled "$hit My Family Does."  But, my track record for normality and regularity sucks. 

That said, remember the post about the evangelizers who left their bikes in our neighborhood and my kids theorized (because they're smart like that) how to most effectively steal them?
Well, this post is kinda like that.

$hit My Family Does (this will probably never happen again)

1.  Boy Child screws things up in hysterical ways.  Today at breakfast he said very seriously and poetically, "That which doesn't make us stronger, kills us."  My favorite quote according to my Facebook profile (which we know is like Wikipedia in its truthfulness) is Neitchze's, so I love this about as much as I love my kids.

2.  Hubby was explaining to Girl 2 what a baker's dozen was.  When he was done she said, "I always thought it was because the baker ate a dozen and then there was one left to share with someone else."  We *might* be related.

3.  We were driving the other day and we passed an area where new construction had started.  Boy Child commented, "Hmm. I wonder what they're building there, mom."  There was a construction company's sign up with the motto "Blank-blank Construction Company...Building the Future."  He quickly read the sign out loud and said, "That's a weird place for the future."  Lest you think he was joking when this happened:  The other day we drove by the same place and he said not even jokingly, "Look, mom.  They're getting pretty far on the future there."

4.  I don't really believe in anthropomorphism, but since I am probably going to have to send this *smart(ass)*puppy to private puppy school, he will heretofore be considered "family."  The puppy tries to strangle himself each and every time he is "chained up" outside.  Before you call PETA on me, he's only "chained" for short amounts of time (or he would die, apparently) and tomorrow the guy is coming to fix our invisible fence (as we explained to Girl 3, it's not really "invisible").  I can tie him up, quickly go inside to get a cup of coffee, walk right back outside to check on him and he's managed to make a cat's cradle with his rope. 

Photo credit:  Oxford Advanced Learner's Dictionary.

Cheesus.  And, people keep telling me he's smart. I guess I'm ecstatic he's not dumb?

5.  Lately we've been going to our favorite hang-out, Spicy Ginger, and ordering almost everything on the menu.  I am beginning to wonder what those lovely people think of us.  Are they frightened?  Is there talk in the back?  "OH MY GAWD.  HERE COMES THAT ENORMOUS MEXICAN FAMILY WHO EAT EVERYTHING ON THE MENU.  QUICK PUT OUT THE "CLOSED" SIGN."  When you manage to spend nearly $100.00 on a very reasonably priced restaurant, and the food you order could feed a small country and barely fits on the table it borders on embarrassing and it might be time to quit.

6.  This one *might* eventually be one for Prudie, but right now I'm just filing it here.  Girl 3 is addicted to chewing gum.  She hides it like an addict.  Although friends have suggested I allow it on a "supervised" basis, or I use it as a reward, hubby and I have adopted an AA approach in that we are not giving her anymore gum.  (We also helped her to admit she has a problem and make amends to the people she's hurt.)  We are pretty sure if she relapses it will not be a "I can just chew this one piece and I'll be fine," but that she will pick up where she left off and it will be more like, "WHERE ELSE CAN I HIDE THIS $HIT???  THE LID OF THE TOILET???"  Lest you think we are cookoo cra-cra, the *damages* so far include (but are not limited to):  the wood floor in the corner of her closet is permanently marked bright green and scented minty, the cup holder that's closest to her in the Yukon Cornelius is permanently sticky, her sheets are stained bright green, and there is a small piece of hair in the back of her head that still has not fully grown out.

7.  I have an irrational fear of wet dog, rain, mud smell in my house.  Usually that's easy to avoid because I live in Texas and it only rains about once every eight years here.  But, lately we've been having some cloudy weather.  The other night I let puppy out to strangle himself on the chain.  About one second after I brought him in the back door it started to POUR.  I thanked Jesus, Mary, and Joseph profusely that my timing had been so extraordinary.  At about the same time, Hubby was so excited with the rain (I guess he forgot what rain was) he threw open the front door in glee.  Yeah.  Puppy pretty much ran in the back door and immediately out the front.  He refused to come back in until he was soaking wet, stinky, and nice and muddy.

8.  Girl 3 has been a negotiator I think since she learned to talk.  She's stepped up her game as of late and I thought she'd get a little smarter with it.  But, no.  It still goes down something like this almost every time:

Girl 3:  I can't finish this supper.  Remember I don't like peas???  How about I take five more bites?

Me:  How about 10 more bites?

Girl 3:  NOOOOOOOO!  How about seven?

(There are just about 7 more bites of peas on her plate - which I have carefully calculated before entering into the negotiations.)

Me:  PERFECT!

This complete misunderstanding of the art of negotiation has made me wary of what her future holds, but also thankful that parenting in this regard has not become more difficult.  So, I have mixed feelings?  Let's hope unicorning pays well?

Lest you think after reading this that I am perfect and I don't do any ridiculous $hit, I took puppy out running wearing my headset and phone armband for the first time just the other day.  Let's just say the entanglement of earphones, choke chain, leash, and ponytail coupled with my complete lack of coordination and just how quickly it all went down was amazingly embarrassing.  I am so happy that I was home alone and that I ended up flat on my back with puppy joyfully licking my face in my own driveway or I most surely would have to find another home.

Top 10 Ways I Am Nicer Than A Substitute

Real life conversation:

Boy Child:  We had a sub today.  It was Ms. So and So.  She's so nice.  I think she's my favorite sub ever.

Girl 2:  Isn't she the one who has a strict policy of no screaming?

Boy Child:  Yes.  She's so unbelievably patient.  I really like her.

Girl 2:  Oh my gosh.  I love her.

Me:  Really?  You love her?  Isn't that a bit strong?  Y'know for a sub?  But I guess the no screaming thing sounds like a good policy.  Is she young?

Boy Child:  No.  She's a retired teacher.  I think she's about 67.  And, really mom.  Lots of kids love her.

Girl 1:  Oh, yeah.  She's super, super nice.  I wish I had been in her class when she was still teaching.

*more gushing about said substitute teacher*

Boy Child:  Yeah.....she's nicer than you, mom.

*dead silence*

Girl 1:  Aw.  That's kinda mean.  I don't think she makes chocolate chip cookies like mom................at least I don't think she does.  At least she hasn't brought them to school.

Me:  I'm right here.  I can hear you.

So, I bring you - The Top 10 Ways I Am Nicer Than A Substitute (Kinda..........depending on what kind of day I'm having and who the substitute is)

10.  I don't feel pressured to wear holiday sweaters or jewelry.  I just do it out of pure love for the holidays and the kids.

9.  I have a disobedient dog who is an asshead, but I don't run him over with my Yukon because the kids love him.

8.  When I see kids I know in the supermarket and my cart is full of beer and tampons, I don't hide.  I go right up and say, "Hey!  Don't I know you?"

7.  I don't need a lesson plan that someone else wrote to direct my day.  I fly straight by the seat of my pants.  Usually this involves something nice.  And fun.

6.  I have a strict policy of no screaming.  Instituted Monday through Friday between the hours of midnight and 2 a.m.

5.  I don't rely on the "know it all" in the room to tell me what to do.  I just know instinctively what I am supposed to do.  Sometimes it involves screaming.  It is sometimes nice.  And fun.

4.  I don't use bribery to make the kids behave.

3.  I usually know all my  kids' names.

2.  I can nicely improvise better than frat kids on quarter drink night.

And the top reason why I am nicer than a substitute:

1.  I make chocolate chip cookies.

Why dinner with my family can be like the eye of a hurricane only without the rain.

I vowed to be a better blogger and just as soon as I did, I broke my vows.  Good thing I've done a teensy bit better with my marriage vows.

Here's the thing - I can't think of anything to write.  I have an enormous writer's block on my head.  And, I've been flirting with a migraine for two days.

I *might* have the beginnings of a migraine because spring break for all four of my kids is next week and they all have had spring fever since the middle of February (what???).  They've taken to saying school is almost over.  Frankly, I don't know what that means.

I think it means that their brains are already on vacation and when this happens monkey brain takes over.  And, monkey brain (as you should know if you've ever been to the zoo) causes the body to not  behave at all.

I have found these last few days that it takes tremendous effort to want to be in the same room with all the kids at once.  It's often felt like I think those reporters feel when they are broadcasting from the eye of the hurricane.  I imagine they feel like it's difficult to talk or think, it's dangerous, and at any moment everything might blow.

Sample of our "dinner conversation" (if you can call it that).  I suggested a family rule that we are all going to strive to keep:  No interrupting.  Why did I do that?  Because I am a glutton for punishment.  (I was interrupted about six times while making the rule.)

Girl 2:  I did the P.E. challenge thing today and I did 24 sit-ups.

Me:  Wow.  24?  That's...

Girl 1:  Not to be mean (which is what she now says instead of no offense because no offense "is in fact offensive") but, I doubt very much that you can do 24 sit-ups.

Me:  That's great!  Girl 1, stop being snotty.

Girl 2:  I CAN TO DO 24 SIT-UPS.

Girl 3:  I can do 24 sit-ups, too.

Girl 1 to Girl 3:  Ha!  Not to be mean, but I doubt you even know what a sit-up is.  Because you're four! 

Girl 3:  NOT TO BE MEAN, BUT I DO KNOW WHAT A SIT-UP IS AND I CAN DO 24 SIT-UPS!  In fact, I think I can do a million.

Girl 1:  Hahahahaha!  Not to be mean, but I know for fact that you can't even count to a million because you can't even count to TWELVE!

Girl 3 (in a high-pitched screamy voice):  YOU ARE A MEANIE PETE AND I DON'T LIKE YOU AND I AM NOT GOING TO BE YOUR FRIEND ANYMORE AFTER DINNER WHEN I AM DOING PUSH UPS!!!

Does this make you want to be with these people?  And furthermore, does this make any sense?

So, that's why I have a big writer's block that is painful and makes my head hurt.  And, also it might be dangerous and at any moment knock over this tiny bridge on which I am standing.

But, I did want to bring you this because it makes me laugh so hard every time I watch and I've already watched it about a million times because I have really needed a laugh (and not to be mean, but I can count to a million) .  Cheers!