Rules for an Enjoyable Summer.

I considered the title of Summer Rules, but then you would think I have lost my damn mind.  No, these are rules for my children so that they can have an enjoyable summer and I can make it through summer without my eye twitching uncontrollably.

1. SHUT THE DAMN DOOR!  Look, I went through this with my parents and, now, it is your turn.  Just for the sake of all our sanity shut the freaking door.  It isn’t really that hard and you will save the screaming…at the lizards and frogs that seem to think an opened door is an invitation to come on in and make themselves at home. If I have to come eye to eye with a lizard when I sit down on the sofa to relax, I am going to go homicidal.  On the lizard, of course.

2. Clean up after yourselves.  It is not that hard.  No one cleaned up after you at school and no one will do it at home for you.  What am I? Your mother?  Oh wait!…Scratch that.  I am not your maid, so if you keep missing your mouth while eating or drinking then clean it up.  Summer will be much better without me having a coronary everytime you spill something.

3. Just know that since I gave birth to you and you are at an age where you are capable of doing certain things that means you are my slave.  I know, I know, the Constitution outlawed slavery, but what the government doesn’t know won’t hurt me.  And let’s be honest here, I am doing the bulk of the workload, anyway.  I don’t need to add an hour long discussion on the merits of you taking out the trash to my workload.  Take it out and then you can plant your butt back on the sofa and watch your show while I  continue EVERYTHING ELSE THAT NEEDS TO BE DONE!

4. When I say enough with the My Little Pony show or any other show.  I mean ENOUGH!  There are only a handful of shows that make me want to go sit on the nearest cliff during the windy season and MLP is one of them.  I have enough screeching, whiny little creatures in real life, I don’t need to watch them on TV, too.  And Pinkie Pie needs to go away.  I don’t care where she goes, but either she can go away or get punched in the throat.

5. When I say NO, it is not a signal for you to keep asking me until my head splits in 2 and scream, ” I SAID NO!”.  No means no, even when it is said to child from parent.

6. If I tell you that we can’t go swimming this week, just leave it at that unless you want a lesson in the workings of the female body.  And walking away saying, “OH mom must be on her period” due to the fact that I just yelled at you, “NO MEANS NO!”, doesn’t help the situation.  Just know that soon you will be dealing with the same thing and I have a blog where I can enact my revenge.

7. No cracking out the kids!  This one is for SoHubby.  It is NOT 1978, which means there are other alternatives to Kool Aid to give our children.  I know you think it is funny to get them all jumpy on sugar and leave for work, but just know I have my own form of torture that I can dole out.  See number 6.

8.  If you would like to get home quick from grocery shopping, then don’t whine, complain and fart around while we are grocery shopping.  Making me remind you a million times not to stand directly behind or in front of the shopping cart, to stay with me, or to hurry up picking a toy that you just have to spend your money on takes up precious time that could have been spent racing around throwing random items into the basket so we can go home.

9. Don’t say you are bored, if you don’t want me to make you unbored.  I guarantee that whatever task I give you will be much more painful, in your mind, than the current boredom you are experiencing.  Look, there are baseboards to be cleaned, cabinets to be wiped down, extra school work that can be done, etc that will make that boredom seem like paradise.

10. There will be down days and super busy days.  The less complaining from you ensures we all have a fun summer.  I know all your friends are going on luxury vacations and having the time of your lives while you are stuck here with your parents and siblings, but it is the hand that you have been dealt so just deal with it.  You can always dream of the day when you move out of our house and do all those fun things we never let you do.  Oh and when you are daydreaming about how great your life will be once you are on your own, don’t forget to daydream that great fun job you got without any hard work where you make a ton of money.

Love,

Mom

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Leaving!

We joined a gym.  It only took twice joining the same gym in the span of 10 years for SoHubby to actually go to the gym.  Maybe we have, FINALLY, settled into a routine.  It only took 3 kids and 14 years.

There is always a little bit of guilt when leaving my kids.  Some say it is good for the kids to trust other people and explore other options.  They never talk about mom trusting other people and exploring other options.  I use to know all the age developments, now it is all jumbled.  It is hard to keep up with what is appropriate for age 9 then go down to age 6 and then further down to age 2.5.  You would think that I would have it down by now, but since all these kids came out different and with their own personalities it is hard to know if I am acting silly, if the kids are acting silly or if we are all just going through growing pains.

When Amber was a baby there wasn’t much trouble leaving her and doing my own thing.  That is not to say that I was able to do it often, but there wasn’t much guilt over it.  It helps that I was told that I needed the time away from her and she needed the time away from me.  On child number 3, I am rethinking those decisions and many times I wish I could go back and start again.  I am rethinking so much that I am teetering on whether to send Evie to school for the first time at the age of 5 into Kindergarten.  Almost unheard of in my little world.  The new question I grit my teeth through my smile to answer is, “Are you sending her to school next year?”  *sigh* That might have to be a post all of it’s own.

With Sam it feels like I never left him and I can see where that might have hindered him a bit.  Sam was a different breed altogether.  Where the girls are easy going and only dip a bit of a toe into the waters of battle, Sam does the cannon ball into those waters.  It is hard to have balance when one kid is pretty easily guided and another one fights you toe and nail on everything.  So we settled into our routine of coming home and just playing all day  AT HOME.  I don’t think it traumatized him to where he can’t function and it is hard to tell if some things he does is because I didn’t leave him much or just his bullheadedness.

Evie is only 2.5 years old and her personality is only starting to emerge.  She definitely has her opinions, but she seems to know when not to push.  Today she tried to push.  It was our second day at the gym, which means it was her second day at gym childcare.  Yesterday, she was fine.  I think she was in shocked and was all, HEY, there is Mickey.  Today, she was not having any of it.  She cried and I watched as my minutes of my one hour of childcare ticked away.  I stayed until she was fully into Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  I was never into the sneaking away while my kid was distracted.  The whole time I worked out I wonder what was going on.  Since I was not called over the PA system, which still brings memories of terror of being call to the principal’s office, I figured all was good.  After my 30 minutes (you don’t realize how little an hour is until you have to drop off, pick up and get settled before you can begin) of working out, I found Evie sitting in the same spot as when I left her.  At least she wasn’t cowering in the corner and lived the ordeal to tell the tale.

As I picked her up and even before we did our first drop off I wonder if I should really do this?  Should I find another way to get to the gym instead of dropping Evie off each morning?  No one can answer this for me and I am sure I will look back in a few years and discover the answer, but for now it is one more item added to my list of my mom guilt.

 

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Yes, I am a Cheer Mom.

Amber is a cheerleader for her school. SHE LOVES IT!  So much in fact that if you tell her it is not a sport she will argue with you until the death, at least, that is what she does with her gymnastic coach, who claims that cheerleading isn’t a sport.  I would have my usual retort of let me see you flip in the air, but sadly I think he might be able to do it or could have done it in the past.  Mainly, I have told Amber to stop bringing it up in gymnastics class to save us all the torture.

Setting aside the major debate of whether cheerleading is a sport or not (Psst…Amber tells me that her Cheer coach says that cheerleading is the most dangerous sport.  So stick that in your pipe and smoke it.), the girls had a competition this weekend in Biloxi.  And I know my kids were excited to go on an adventure.  Sure it is only an hour drive and we only stayed in a moderately priced hotel and there was no chance of swimming that weekend, but to a 9 and 6 yr old it was an adventure nonetheless.  Evie was just confused as to why we kept calling her Mississippi and why she couldn’t sleep sideways.

Amber loves to perform.  She loved it when she was 2 yrs old and in a school play.  She loved it at every dance recital since she was 3 yrs old.  And now she loves it in cheerleading.  I think this girl has performing in her blood and doesn’t blink twice if asked to speak in front of a large crowd.  I can safely say that comes from her Daddy, because Mom would love to stay in the background and be quietly thanked on stage during the Oscars.  Preferably, before God, but making the top 2 will still make me happy.

So without further ado may I present the SFX Jaguars:

I think they did a great job.

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What is the Magic Number, Part Deux

Since I have 2 kids in “big kid school” I have become scatter brained.  I have box tops, cheerleading, books, homework, algebra (OMG!), trumpets (loudly, I might add), AR for 2 kids, and a million other things floating around in my head.  So getting a cohesive blog post is a little tough.  Half the time, it takes me a minute to get a word out when a conversation is started with me.  I have that deer in headlights look permanently plastered onto my face.  All that to justify another post about how we think about family structure in our society.

I am sure if you have one child people might pity you or constantly ask you when you will have another one.  If you have 2 kids, especially 1 boy and 1 girl, people tell you how perfect your family is and assume you are done.  If you have 3 kids you are kind of stuck in the middle.  You had the perfect family and then you went and messed it up with another baby.  It seems anything after 3 kids is considered a large family and I am sure you get the “what were you thinking looks”.  Basically, how you have decided to structure your family is up for opinion.  If you are lucky, like me, you might even get a professional, totally unwanted, medical opinion on how you decided to build your family.  Then you get the joy of having the feeling that you don’t want that doctor anywhere near your fallopian tubes.

SoHubby and I talked about 3 kids.  After the first, which was like a kick to the throat, I thought I was done.  About 3 years later, we would decide (or I would agree to let SoHubby come near me, again.)that we should try for another child.  Lucky us, I am pretty easy to knock up and number 2 was on his way.  Again, another kick to the throat with a heaping side of losing SoHubby’s job.  That was it we were done.  Although, we had left the door open.  I am not sure what we were thinking.  Financial challenges don’t change overnight, especially when you are self-employed and we weren’t getting any younger. At that point, I was just not ready to close up shop.  I was wrong, according to just about everyone, because I had my girl and I had my boy what more could I want.  I guess I was just greedy.

Choosing the number of children one might have is a pretty personal decision.  I do my best not to ask people when they will start having kids, when they are going to have more kids or expressing any surprise in how many kids they currently have or don’t have.  Really it is none of my business and I don’t know what is going on in people’s lives.  I would hate to badger someone about kids only to learn they were having fertility problems.  So I keep my mouth shut.

I will fully admit number 3 was a big surprise.  I knew I was pregnant before I was pregnant.  I won’t go into the gory details, because this is a family blog (HA!), but I just knew and I was freaked.  We were not where we wanted to be financially (still not) and since we are self-employed medical coverage is no walk in the park.  There are no $20 co-pays in this world.  Things worked out and we are enjoying number 3 along with her siblings.  That doesn’t mean that I don’t have many concerns.  However, I think I would have concerns no matter how many children I had or don’t have.

What strikes me as odd is the comments I get.  I have a weird feeling that people think I have only one child when I am only with one child and that gives me an urge to tell them I have 3.  I can usually contain myself, but I do giggle if I meet someone and they try to give me advice as if I have one child.  I got a comment once from a guy in a restaurant asking me if SoHubby and I had a television.  I was stunned, because at the time I only had 2 kids and was babysitting a friend’s child.  And really, 3 kids is a cause for thinking we don’t have anything else to do.  I did get a Duggar comment, but I think that was just a joke.  I am the first one to tell you that I don’t think I could handle more kids.  Wanting more kids and being able to handle more kids is 2 different things and I know my limits.  I would like to spend sometime with an empty house before I ride my coffin into the sky. The best comment, which came from my father, was “I hope this is a boy”.  No congratulations when I told him I was expecting my 3rd, just hope for a boy.  Which is weird, because he just had 2 grandsons not too long ago.  Karma tis a bitch, because he ended up with 2 more granddaughters and will forever be surrounded by cackling hens telling him he has no idea what he is talking about.

That aside 3 is a weird number of kids to have. First, you are never in a position of having a childfree night when one child has an invite from a friend.  I, either, have one child, two kids or all 3.  I am rarely without a child.  Second, you are an odd number family so seating in restaurants are weird.  Often we are stuck at a table for 4 with the highchair seated at a corner and everyone else is crowded together.  I, often, think what will they do when we can’t use the highchair, anymore, which is fast approaching.  Sister, doesn’t want to be a baby, anymore. She is a big girl and will tell you so.  And forget about fitting your food on the table.  If you are lucky enough for them to put you at a larger table, you somehow feel like inviting someone over to eat with you, because you have a tad more space than you need. God forbid you go out to eat with friends or another family.  There is major decisions that need to be made and a bustle of activity just to accommodate your large crowd.  I mean, why couldn’t you large crowd people just stay home and leave us appropriately numbered gatherings in peace.  Third, you can be either a large family or small family depending on the situation.

Eggs.  Yes, eggs.  The first time I thought we were a large family was when I went to cook eggs for everyone.  At the least it would take 7 eggs to feed the family.  That is more than half a dozen.  I don’t think my mom ever used more than half a dozen of eggs making us breakfast while she was in the position of making our breakfast, but our whole family equaled 3.  It was an odd feeling that a dozen eggs wouldn’t get us through the week.  That was quickly rectified by buying a dozen and a half, which is a tad too much, but you can’t buy a baker’s dozen of eggs anywhere.

We don’t fit into a sedan.  Well, that is not entirely true.  We could fit into a sedan, but not comfortably and not with our stuff.  It is either minivan or SUV.  Of course, we already had a SUV when the first was born, but there is no turning back, now.  There have been a few times where I have had to have my SUV in the shop for repairs and we have had to find alternate vehicle accommodations.  We have tried SoHubby’s Hyundai which is a stretch fitting 4 people in, much less 5.  No!  There is no way you are fitting 5 people in that car, especially with required carseats.  One time we had the larger Chevy volt, which I liked, but only the kids and I could ride in it at one time and then Amber had to sit in the front, which I am not totally comfortable with.  Someone did tell me that a Prius would have more than enough room for all of us.  I would like to know how they did that.  It must have been a family of clowns, because it was hard getting 2 carseats in the back of that thing when we tried.  So we are not spilling out of our Suburban, but we aren’t getting into any car, anytime, soon.

The only time I feel like a small family is when we come across families with more children than us.  If it is hard for me to keep up with 3 kids then it must be harder keeping up with 4, 5, 6 kids.  Of course, many of our parents or grandparents did it and lived to tell the tale.  It seemed normal back then to have 6 or more kids.  Now, when you see an actual family with more than 2 kids, people gasp and you get comments.  That leaves 3 in the middle.  At anytime we can be placed in the small family pile depending on the other families in the room or we could be placed in the large family pile depending on how much space is available.  I guess it is not so bad being in the middle when you can pull the positives as you see fit.  I guess the biggest lesson to learn is not to make comments regarding other people’s decisions.  The taste you are having at that moment is your foot.

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Living on the Wild Side

Sam came home earlier this week all excited.  Fun Friday!  Fun Friday!  FUN FRIDAY!  The kids’ school will offer babysitting for parents on Fridays.  The concept is nice, for $20 you get 4 hours of childfree time and your child gets to eat pizza, watch a movie and play with their classmates.  It is a win-win, right?

Not if you are us.  First, my kids would be at school from 730am-10pm (or whatever time I decided to pick them up, but let’s be honest I will be waiting until the last second to get them).  That is a long day.  I wouldn’t just leave one kid there.  That would be 2 kids plus I would still have one kid with me, since they won’t take Evie.  The cost to me would be $58, since I wouldn’t be making the drive to pick them up, go home and then bring them back to school which means they would be in aftercare for 3 hours.  So I had to come up with something to distract Sam away from Fun Friday.  Something that could compete with wearing your pajamas at school while eating pizza, watching a movie and playing with your friends.  The perfect idea hit me.  We would all go see The Lion King…in 3D!  It would be perfect.  The kids could wear their pajamas, we would eat snacks for dinner and enjoy a fun of adventure of watching lions jump off the screen at us.  Oh how soon I forget how well laid well intentioned plans go wrong.

First you must realize that I was breaking all kinds of parenting rules with that above statement.  It is disgusting to have your kids go to the movies in their pajamas then come home and go to sleep on their sheets.  Really?  I hope CPS doesn’t find out that sometimes the kids play all day and then go to bed without…dum…dum…dum…a BATH!  Then there is the eating of snacks instead of a properly government approved balanced meal.  Preferably with no hair in the bread.  And I saved the cordial sin for last.  This one I will burn in hell forever.  If the kids were asleep by the time we got home, I would plop them into bed without…BRUSHING THEIR TEETH!!  Oh the horrors of it all.  How did I slip by the parenting police and spawn…3 TIMES?  Meh, that is just the mommy boards for you.  If someone doesn’t tell you suck then you are not doing it right.

The first problem that we ran into on our journey to the FUNNEST NIGHT OF OUR LIVES!  SoHubby was going to meet us there, because he is working and campaigning and is squeezing us in.  I sat in the car with the kids, which was mistake number 2.  The kids don’t just sit and listen to the radio or talk about their day or any other quiet sitting still things.  No they bounce off the sides of the car like a bunch of monkeys that just escaped from the research lab.  After about 20 minutes and seeing child after child after hundredth child go into the movie theater we get out.  I call SoHubby that he can buy his own ticket, because I would be inside and didn’t know what time he would arrive.  I just knew this movie was filling up and with 3 kids in tow things always take 15-20 minutes.  We get tickets, go to the bathroom, get snacks, find some seats and things are going smoothly.  Then the movie starts.  First we have to give detailed instructions over and over, again, regarding putting on the 3 D glasses.  Next Evie decides that sitting in her chair is for chumps and will walk between SoHubby and I throughout the movie.  She will lean on the chairs in front of her and repeatedly kick the backs of those chairs.  Sam will spill the gallon drum drink I bought for him, Evie and SoHubby to share.  That is my cue to go get a refill.  Thank goodness you get free refills for large drinks or they would have had to drink the diet Coke Amber and I were sharing.  I am sure that would have caused much drama, especially from SoHubby.

Next Sam is crying.  Why? Who the hell knows.  Apparently, he was sitting on dad’s lap before Evie, but Evie muscled her way in and that was cause for crying, thrashing and your run of the mill drama.  Cue me taking him out to threaten him to be quiet.  Not sure why he needed to be quiet, because every other kid was talking, whining, and crying, too.  At least, I could say not my little angel, whom I threaten to keep quiet.  Then Sam falls asleep.  Evie is still running between SoHubby and I and refuses to sit down.  She will hand out kisses, popcorn (which we are not sure where it came from) and drink from everyone’s cup including the family sitting next to us. Finally, the movie ends.  I think I saw most of it.  There were some lions, a singing pig, and a goofy baboon with a blue ass.

I don’t know when I will learn or if I am just hoping that one day one of these fun outings will result in a “Thanks, Mom. That was fun.” or happy children or a family leaving all together or one of those scenes you seen on TV.  Until then I am grinning and trying to bare it.  Sure I didn’t get to see the whole movie, but it did look like it was raining in the theater.  Maybe I had to drag a heavy sleeping 5 yr old out of the car, but, at least, he was ready for bed.  Sure I had to argue with a 2 yr old regarding whether she was hungry or tired, but, at least, I won the argument.  Sure, I am sitting at home alone on a Friday night wondering when my husband will be home, but at least there is a pedicure in the morning to look forward to.  I cling to hope and let the small victories get me through another day, it is called parenting.

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The Passage of Time

In just under a month I will be turning the big 3 9.

Birthdays were never a huge deal at our house.  You got a cake and a present.  Then if you were special enough to have a younger brother born on YOUR birthday then you got the same cake just divided down the middle. We never had parties with friends, tons of presents and stressed out parents. No that is for the kids of today.  So birthdays would come and go without much notice from me.  However, my upcoming birthday is causing me concern.  Why?  Because I am one year away from 40!

I can’t be 40!  I have young kids.  Only 40! year olds have kids going off to college while they are looking toward their resting years.  I wear shorts, polos and tennis shoes everyday.  40! year olds wear proper clothes that include well coordinated outfits and never shorts.  Dear GOD! not shorts.  I listen to pop music, laugh at fart jokes and giggle when I see trucks that say “Coastal Erection”.  40! year olds are proper and serious and never laugh at bodily functions.  Who knows maybe in a year I will be all those things, but I don’t want to be those things.  Then again, I don’t want to be that sad 40! that is clinging desperately to their youth either.  Oh the dilemma!

Another problem is that my mirrors must not be working, because I don’t see a 40! year old looking back at me, but it seems everyone else does.  I got a pedicure this weekend where I enjoyed reading my book without tiny people and one grown adult wondering where I was, what I was doing, why I wasn’t with them and when I was going to make some food for them.  I had to put the book down after just one chapter, because the words were blurry. (I would just like to clarify that I believe it is because my book is paperback.  If I had a hardcover book with larger print…Yeah not really helping my case.)  My pedicurist asked me if my book was good and I explained why I had to put it down for a minute.  The first thing out of this girl’s mouth, “Are you in your 40′s?”. Not are you almost 40!. Or better yet, just not say anything.  I sat there stunned and thinking, “Is this girl hoping for a tip? Because that ain’t the way to get one.”  The only thing that saved the moment is that I know that one day she, too, will get to be 40! and have some young girl bust her bubble.  Of course, I will probably be dead by the time that happens.

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The Day I Lost it at the Office Max (or Teachers Really Do Hate Parents)

I have heard of these fictitious people who love to shop for school supplies.  All I see are moms with one eye on the supply list another on the kids, who are running around like mad people, and, yet, another scouring the shelf for the must have school supply.  She won’t find it, even though she has exhausted every store in the city.  She will come to you on the first day of school, wringing her hands and a small tear in her eye, and tell you that she did everything she could to find this item.  You will tell her that it is no big deal.  You can either substitute with this easy to find at any store item or you can go to this store that is only opened from 8am-9am on the third Monday of the 4th month of the 5th odd year during a lunar eclipse.    Today, against my gut feeling, I decided to become THAT mom.

Running errands with 3 kids is never fun.  It appears that if we are home for the day the kids complain.  If we leave to get some things done, the kids complain.  If their super cool and loving mom takes them to the coolest waterpark that New Orleans has ever seen they will complain.  Apparently, my kids are spoiled brats.  Well, after today they will learn what it is like to live in the olden days when parents didn’t care about their kids’ feelings.  Also known as the 80′s.  Momma is going to have a full week of watching whatever she wants,  cleaning without having to maneuver around small people, and eating when she wants.  And yes, that is a little bit of chocolate cupcake on the corner of her mouth. And no, you can’t have any!  How can I do this you ask?  The kids are punished.  Don’t worry, they will get an hour in the yard and their food will be slide through their doors at the appropriate times of day.

First let’s tackle these school supply lists.  I have had my share of tough school supplies in my day.  You can read about my first one here. Add the 3 kids and I want to stick hot pokers with the E.Coli virus on them in my eyes.  I understand that teachers have an important job, teaching our children, but does it really take 5 boxes of crayons and WASHABLE markers, 6 jumbo glue sticks, a box that measures 8 5/8 x 5 3/4 x 2 1/3 and a wire basket that measures 16 x 12 x 5 to teach the kids?  I hear in some countries it only takes a $1 a day to school a child.  Where can I get on that plan? Or are these things put on the list payback for putting up with our little demon spawns for the school year?  Teachers, be honest with me.  Just tell me that you put this weird crap on there so you can secretly watch us lose our shit in the middle of Office Max as our kids tear down the fire hoses.

Don’t think I forgot about the manufacturers of school supplies and the stores that sell them.  The teacher asks for 20 sharpened pencils, but the manufacturers make only 18 or 24 pencils.  Of course, they don’t make them all sharpened and you pay a premium for that little point on the end.  Also, can you explain to me why my 5 year old needs 60 pencils in Kindergarten?  Are you planning for them to reenact a fight scene from Game of Thrones using the pencils as small swords?  If so, I may not mind buying all the pencils, because that would be cool.  Otherwise, I am sure I will be handed 2.5 packs of pencils at the end of the school year.  Don’t scoff it has happened.  Or what about these oh so special colored notebooks that you demand request.  When I read that Amber needed a red single subject notebook and a blue 3 subject notebook I thought, “That ain’t no big deal. At least she didn’t ask for fuchsia.”  Guess what I found?  Freaking fuchsia!!  There was fuchsia everywhere, but I had to dig through a mound of notebooks to find the only red single notebook that Office Max had and even then I had to beat another mother off with my diaper bag to get it.  And the blue 3 subject notebook?  Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the baby is now working at the Office Max.  I hope to see her once she is promoted out of the stock room.  Last, but not least, please explain to me why Office Max has every fancy composition book under the sun, but no black marble composition book in all the land?  Who doesn’t have a friggin BLACK MARBLE COMPOSITION BOOK?  And why does my son need 2 of them?  He can barely write his name, I hope you are not expecting him to journal about his day.  If you are here is a sample, “Dear Diary, I am hungry.  The End.”  That is as good as it will get.

So excuse me if I lost it a bit while trying to talk to the manager about their weird sale on Crayola products when it was clearly marked on the shelves “Washable Markers” and my children decided to see if the baby can survive an attack from the exit door.  Again, I am sorry, I was DONE!  I had been to 3 stores (none of which are near each other), endured the constant stream of “I’m hungry. I have to pee.”, and the questionable lunch from Wendy’s only to discover that I still  have some shopping to do.  If I have an extra big smile on my face for the first day of school, know that I know that you think you got me, but the laugh is on you.  You will be spending 8 hours a day with my demon spawn.  Good luck with that.

 

 

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The Pool

We joined a country club this year.  Um, yeah, it is not exactly what I think about when I think country club.  It is a bit on the outdated side with a bunch of seniors running around most of the day.  There are big plans afoot to make it more updated and more entertaining for the kids.  Well, the pool, anyway.  There is talk of a slide.  WooHoo!  And SoHubby doesn’t golf.  Anyway, we joined it, because YEAH! pool.

We haven’t been on a vacation for a few years, now, which was our time to soak up poolness.  Besides, we need something to look forward to and break up the day.  So I threw caution to the wind, which I am sure SoHubby would like me to do more often, and signed up.  I figured the pool would be fun and wear the hell out of these kids.  Apparently,  they get bored running errands and watching MY TV all day.  Huh, sounds like fun to me.  And I don’t think they burn much energy trying to kill each other every 5 minutes.

As much hope as I had for the pool to bring joy to the kids and give them something to look forward to this summer, I didn’t expect to basically move what goes on at the house to a giant pool of  water.  We spent 3 hours at the pool, today.  YEAH, mom! While there  I had to tell Sam to please stop whining and complaining about every DAMN little thing.  His first complaint was when I told him not to jump in the water next to an older boy.  He came up to me, and in a really loud voice, explained that he did that because that boy, you know the one right in ear shot, was being mean to those little girls over there.  It was his job to make sure this boy knew that Sam was not going to tolerate him being mean to those girls.  The problem?  I didn’t see this boy anywhere near the girls.  Commence the argument about who actually knew what the boy did or did not do.  The boy left.  *sigh* Next on Sam’s checklist: stopping flirting with the lifeguards.  Seriously kid!  You are 5. Not 25 yrs old at the club.  Or a sad 55 yrs old at the club.  Please  stop flirting with all the girls.  It is cute now, but later there will be stalker charges.  Then there was the constant request for food.  I am just going to tie food bag to that kid, at least, I won’t hear him ask for food.  And, of course, the million times I have to tell him to stop fighting with his sister.

Things were no different with Amber.  I had to tell her a million times to leave Evie alone.  Sure Evie is cute, but leave the poor child alone so she can live her life.  Eventually, she is going to grow up and she needs to know how to, I don’t know, walk, talk for herself, sit in a chair, eat her food, and every other everyday thing we have to know, in order, to live a life.  Then there was the ever so lovely conversation of what should she do.  Um, I don’t know.  Let’s see.  We are in a large pool of water.  Maybe…I don’t know…I am just spitballing here…you could…again, call me crazy…I don’t know…SWIM!  And, of course, stop fighting with your brother.

Both of them had to be told to leave the other people in the pool alone.  Besides, the poor tween boy that was falsely accused of harassing toddlers, get out of other people’s business.  I use to think my kids were social.  Now, I think they are obnoxious.  Sam was right in this poor woman’s face while she is trying to play with her baby.  Not sure what he had hope to get out of it.  The woman was too polite to say anything to him, but I am not…GET THE HELL OUT OF THAT WOMAN’S FACE!  Or if this is your child, I would have said, “I think your mom is calling you. Way over there.”

Some of my expectations did occur.  The day has moved a bit faster since we filled it with something to do.  There was fun to be had swimming in the pool.  We were cool as long as we stayed in the pool.  And it did tire out the kids…well…Evie.  She is sleeping on the sofa while the other 2 are running around mad arguing, asking for food, getting all up in my bizness and asking me a billion questions.  *sigh*  Yeah, summer.

 

 

 

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StoryLand

We went on our first summer playgroup with MOPs.  I am so happy to have found this group, through our great Special Instructor from Early Steps.  Not only do we have things to do during the summer, but we have met so many great women and kids.

I do love going to Storyland.  You get to run from one fairytale to the next right there in the middle of New Orleans.

First stop is always the pirate ship.
I asked Sam who he was, thinking that he may say Jake from Jake and the Neverland pirates.
Instead he said “CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW!”

You don’t get more whimsical then a fish riding a bicycle.
I do have to wonder why it was outside of the bathroom.

How great is it to take cover under a giant mushroom.
If you look closely, you will see that Amber has picked up on making
weird faces in pictures from her teenage aunt.
*sigh*

My favorite picture of the day.

Club Castle.
All the bounce music the anklebiter set can stand.

Taking a breather in the coolest spot in the whole place.

A break with an old friend.
We are not sure why he had that woman under him.
Of course, we didn’t ask. We wouldn’t want to be rude.
Also, we thought he was potty trained by now, but I wouldn’t mention it
if I were you.

The day ended around this point, because I just couldn’t take the whining about the heat, anymore.  Yes, we all know that we live on the surface of the sun, but most of us have accepted it and have moved on.  I guess Sam is not quite there, yet.

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The Cougar Strikes!

This playdate thing is pretty ingenious.  A few of us moms get together with all our children, or whatever children we happen to have with us at the time, and while a few moms watch and socialize with each other, a mom gets to go out and do errands (or whatever) all by her lonesome.  See what we have been reduced to; looking forward to a couple of hours of going to the grocery store all alone without falling babies, children with the gimmes or the whining that this is taking too long.  However, when you get this many children together in one place and Amber drama will ensue.  It is her thing afterall.

Our hostess’ innocent son (4 years old) gotten bitten by the Amber bug.  Hey, it happens.  It seems to happen to Sam all the time.  So the 4 year old innocently asked Amber to marry him.  Where he got this idea, I am not entirely sure, but I will give you 3 guesses and the first 2 don’t count.  She could have said, “Well, not right now, but I will think about it” or “Aw, aren’t you sweet” or “I will check with my mom” and the list goes on and on.  Here is where her future as a Cougar comes into full view.  What does my lovely daughter answer, “NO!”.  I guess 8.5 years on this earth hasn’t taught her one thing about being gentle in these sticky situations.  At first it was all in fun and the 4 year old seemed to be okay with the answer.  Then it just became just mean.  Amber repeated her NO! and next thing we know we have a heart broken, crying 4 year old boy on our hands.  I am mortified.

There is a big difference between 4 years old and 8, almost 9, years old.  And there is an even bigger difference between boy and girl.  Thankfully, in true boy form, the 4 year old was back to playing in no time.  On the other hand, Amber is smug about the fact that another boy is just hopelessly in love with her.  The same thing has happen with a boy at school, although he is in her class.  She came home all outraged, because this BOY is IN LOVE with her and she is NOT.  How can it be so horrible to have someone in love with you?  The trick is to be nice about it and turn the boy down in a way that he still feels good about himself, but is clear there is no hope for you and he.  I am 38 years old and don’t think I possess this, but hey I can hope for better for my daughter. I gave Amber a strong talking to.  Basically, she was informed that I was in no way going to stand for her destroying people for sport.  We have this talk often, but mainly with respect to her brother.  I might have, also, reminded her of a few times that people have said some rotten things to her.  Not sure how many times we will have to have this talk, but I hope that some day it will sink through.  Until then I expect to be completely mortified a lot.

This parenting thing never gets easier.  Oh people will say it gets easier, but they are wrong.  It never gets easier, it just changes.  The best we can do is deal with the changes as they are rapidly thrown at us and alway protect our faces.

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