When my son turned 1, he was given a gift by my Aunt and Uncle. I always remember this gift because it is a light activated animal puzzle. When you take the piece out it moos, woofs, meows, oinks, and cock-a-doodle-doos per its corresponding animals. My Aunt laughed when I opened it and made the comment she was pretty sure I might not appreciate this as much as Bear would. Well 6 years later, the puzzle is still alive and well, even though various attempts have been made on its life. All but one piece have survived and it can not be found. See if you can guess which one it is. (This by the way is how G is greeted and goodnighted every night/morning whenever we turn the lights on or off. Enjoy.
Let me recap my day.
12:01 a.m. “Mommee, can I sleep with you?” Waaa? Um OK, sure.
1:00 a.m. G! STOP KICKING ME!! “BUT I WANT TO!!!!”
1:05 a.m. “Mommy? Do you know I kick you because I love you?” Thanks G, but maybe you could show it in another way mkay? Now go to sleep.
2:00 a.m. My lower half commences punishment for the lovely soft serve ice cream I treated myself to that evening. If anyone sees me ordering and/or eating soft serve, milkshakes, etc. please smack it out of my hand. Because 2 a.m. is a BITCH.
5:15 a.m. Commence G screaming and holding her ears in pain and running a low fever. Run to get Motrin in her and some cold water. Did I mention yesterday was a week after a tonsillectomy/adenoid removal surgery? Most kids are raring to go in 2 days, back to doing the usual shenanigans, but no, my G will take the full 2 week recovery time and be miserable the entire time. I hope and pray it’s worth it. This has been a hell of a year sickness-wise.
7:00 a.m. Wake up. Fortunately got to sleep in a bit because today is the first day of 1st grade!!! Woo hoo! I get to pretend I don’t work for a few minutes and get the pleasure of driving my kiddo to school. Wait, damn. Started my period. Commence day of cramps.
8:35 a.m. Realize I have been farting around for an hour and a half and start screaming for everyone to get in the car, while I haven’t gotten dressed yet and the kids are only halfway there. Apparently 1.5 hours is not as long as I think it is.
8:55 a.m. Drop Bear off at school. Hover nervously until I realize I am making things worse, then leave. Tear up for God knows why. I am excited about this day, why am I crying?
9:00 a.m. Drop G off at Grandma and Papa’s cause there’s no way she’s going to back to preschool this week. Too bad I paid for half a week optimistically.
9:30 a.m. Get to work. Receive icy glare from co-worker whom has been dumped with all my work from my yesterday call off due to no sitters and a still sad, pathetic recovering daughter and a late start today due to school starting. Commence work, attempt to prove I am a team player. Turn brain off.
3:40 p.m. Receive frantic call from school secretary. What number bus is Bear supposed to be on? What 5, not 6? He’s NOT supposed to go home, but to daycare? Just like he’s telling us? Just like last year? OHHH. Well he missed that bus because we told him not to get on the right one, can you come get him?
3:42 p.m. Calm upset son down. Call Grandma and Papa frantically. G/P to the rescue. All’s fixed. Make several phone calls to ensure this doesn’t happen again.
3:43 p.m. Get report from G/P that G is not doing so hot today. Call ENT AGAIN to be reassured this is very normal and as long as she’s eating and drinking and no fever over 102, she’s on her way to recovery, BUT it could be another week away from being over. Sigh.
3:45 p.m. Stare at margarita mix in the fridge (Yes, we have that at work and yes, it’s mine. It’s not such a bad place to work really.). Try to figure out if I can have a drink and still drive across town in an hour and then stay awake the rest of the evening. Decide against. I am such a friggin trooper.
5:00 p.m. Due to being late, not in my usual parking place in the Parking Garage of Horrors (aka our underground, multi-level, low ceiling, heavily pillared, tiny parking spaced, hairpin turn building parking garage), I attempt to back out of a space completely opposite what I’m used to and BAM! Despite, a back up camera, various beeping safety features and blind spot detectors, I have hit a pillar HARD with my just over a year old super pretty mom-mobile. Now, it looks like this.
5:10 p.m. Call hubby and swear and cry A LOT. Assurance given that I won’t be killed for car and kids will be OK.
5:30 p.m. Get to G/P house to be greeted with a homemade dinner and a kind ear. Guess it all isn’t bad is it?
7:00 – 8:30 p.m. Return home, bath wrangle (see this post for that experience), be told THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER, simply because I tried to wash her hair. Get yelled at for making a 6 year old go poop even though he’s farting so bad he’s making it hard to breathe in here. Watch Tinkerbell Secret of the Wings AGAIN. Read books – Barbie Charm School AGAIN. (It was G’s night to pick.)
9:00 a.m. Tell my sad story to you fine folks and listen to my cat yowl from the bedroom. The one waiting for her turn and her nightly wet nose, pile of hair rubdown.
Stick a fork in me folks. I’m done.
BUT. If I was in politics, I would spin it like this.
Snuggle with daughter all night!
Sleep in later!
I’m not pregnant!
Take kids to school! See new class and teacher, get to be excited and present as a parent!
I have a job!
I have people to come to my rescue!
I can drink at work!
I have a new car to scrape up!
Free, prepared, delicious dinner!
Quality kid time!
Get love from a devoted kitty!
I guess it’s all in how we look at it right?
Good night y’all. Here’s to a less eventful tomorrow.
I have gotten too out of the habit of posting. I miss me, don’t you? I need to be funny again. Quit being so pissy. So let’s give it a whirl.
“Mom, I like Dad better because he is super awesome and I love him.”
Eye roll. “Thanks G. I like him too.”
“And he’s funnier than you too.”
“Shut the front door girlfriend. He may be cooler and funner (shut it spell check, it’s a word) and smarter, but there is no freakin way he’s funnier.”
“Yep, he is. I love him.”
This from the girl who at dinner prayers this evening, she thanked God for giving her unicorns for her birthday. This is because Mark and I are having a crisis of organized religion at the moment and figure we should at least introduce our kids to the God we want them to know. So let’s start by thanking Him for our food. This went fairly well until Bear blurts out, “Thank you for our food…and our pee pees.” But I guess what guy doesn’t thank God for his pee pee? He’s starting early.
Ah, privates. My kids are obsessed with them. I am not sure why. Their age? Is that all they talk about in summer camp? I don’t know, I feel like I should worry, but it’s hard not to get the giggles when your son is taking your homegrown yellow squash and holding it up to his pants and waving it around like it’s some sad tired version of Florida.
I try to keep the potty words to a minimum. I do, I swear. But if I leave them to their own devices for more than 30 seconds, the conversation always turns to pee and poop and then loud guffawing. That’s right, my kids guffaw. It’s the best sound in the world. I think maybe this family does a bit too much guffawing.
School starts next week. Ya HOO! I say this because Bear just spent the summer with a bunch of young students serving as his day camp counselors. Please don’t get me wrong, it’s been great, but when you have an ADHD kid, whom you’ve spent the past four years diagnosing, treating, therapying, studying, and lastly medicating, the last thing you want to hear at the end of the day is this question, “He’s kind of hyper, have you had him tested for ADHD? I just took a class on it and he has all the classic signs.” This from a 20 year old early education student, eyes gleaming with excitement that she has a real live crazy kid. All ready to diagnose and treat. Well have at it sister. For the fourth time, yes, he’s medicated, no it’s not fool proof, and no the pill is not magic. He’s going to have rough days. Mondays after vacation for one. When his schedule has been put in the blender and put on pulverize. I don’t excuse his behavior, I just don’t know what to do with it in summer daycare. We will tinker with the medicine again, just like we did last time. Frankly, this isn’t the best setting for him either and I can’t fix that at the moment either. Putting a 6 year old in an open room with a ton of other kids ranging from 1st to 6th graders, you’re going to get some hyperactivity. Too much stimulation, not enough focusing. It’s rough. Combine that with a bunch of kids (them damn whipper snappers!) fresh out of college who 1) think I might be pregnant and aren’t afraid to ask, 2) only have textbook skills and not enough real life kid skills to handle my kid, and you have a big ole mess for a kid with sensory and ADHD issues.
Not sure what my alternatives are, but I’ll think of something. He could always come to work with me, it’s nice and quiet there, but I don’t think the boss would go for it, and I think he’d be mighty disappointed to find out his mother got a college education to type other people’s 2-sentence thoughts for a living.
I don’t know, I have 9 months to figure it out.
And we can’t forget his sister, my adorable G, who merely tolerates me while her dad is away. My baby, who’s getting her tonsils out on Wednesday and is none too happy about it. This I don’t want to think about too hard because while it’s a routine procedure and I know more kids who’ve had it done than not, it’s still making me nauseous on a fairly constant basis because this one is MY baby. So, I have the house stocked with ice cream, popsicles, pudding and jello in hopes it will all go smoothly, which means my diet* is taking a headfirst dive into the crapper this week. Plus, I found some Thin Mints in my co-worker’s office fridge this week. Stress eating? Don’t mind if I do.
Alright, that’s about it for this round. What have we learned?
G likes Dad better.
We are finding God. One who likes gay people and isn’t so judgy and wholesome.
My kids two favorites things right now are penises and unicorns.
School is starting! Yay! because Day Camp + Pandemonium + Young Students who think I’m pregnant = One long fat summer.
Tonsils come out Wednesday. Pray those are where the whiny tones are stored.
Good night y’all. See, I can say this because my husband’s in Texas.
Lastly, one fun thing I learned this week: Buck Knuckle. This is a dude’s version of camel toe. Cracks me up. Thanks Anchorman 2. I can’t wait. And I wonder why my kids are so weird.
*Diet: A term I like to throw out there every now and again to make people think I am actually trying to get thinner.
We are wrapping up a long weekend and since we are away from the usual chaos, I’ve had some moments to ponder things. Random thoughts, realizing first world problems and so on. So, in no particular order, here are a few thoughts that occur to me when given some idle time.
Ever rock out to a song and a whistle melody comes on and you join in and think, I am really awesome at whistling!… only to realize it’s not actually you whistling but just the song? All you’re doing is making spitting blowing sounds like you usually do.
Here’s a first world problem…Going on vacation only to realize you don’t have wifi access and then the WHOLE THING IS RUINED.
Another one…getting in your keyless car only to have the car tell you Key Not in Vehicle, then you have to convince your car you do actually have the keys and are frantically waving it in front of the console in an effort to prove to THE CAR that it is in fact an idiot. Not you. Never you.
FWP: When my kids get into my husband’s Jeep Wrangler rental car and can’t figure out what the crank is on the door and what it does.
Random thought: Do zits know you are going to see people who don’t see you everyday and probably won’t be wearing a lot of makeup? Because I have a second nose slightly southeast of my God-given one that speaks before I do. Ga!
RT: Getting drunk on a boat is not quite the great idea you initially think it is. Because after an entire bottle of wine, you can’t figure out if it’s the boat rocking or just you. Or after said night of drinking, taking an hour long boat ride that jars your insides and loosens certain things that can’t be released ON A BOAT.
First world problem: Not being able to decide whether to watch your TV shows on Amazon, Netflix or Hulu. Or, your shows don’t load until the next day and you want to watch it 5 minutes after it ended on TV. Or worse, you have to WAIT for the next season to come up. (Hello last season of 30 Rock??? Where are you??)
Another FWP: Leaving your coupon you’ve been saving for a month to use at home. Or worse, forgetting you have it in your purse, or worse making a major shopping trip the day BEFORE Kohl’s cash starts up.
FWP: Finishing a book and wanting to talk about it, only no one else has read it yet and you can’t share it on your Kindle.
FWP: Having to drink actual water because you ran out of Vitamin Water. (OK now, I am just looking at things around me. Lamp. I love lamp.)
Time to wrap up. This photo got a lot of mileage, and just a heads up teachers, camp counselors, doctors, dentists and so on, when you hear my kids say “Ask your dam question,” they actually mean ask a question about the dam behind us, because they know all about it, thought it was really cool and can’t quite figure out why adults find this so funny.