The Big One!

The car must be where the goofiness of my kids comes out.  This morning on the way to work I hear them bickering in the back seat.   Nothing unusual.  I hear “No I will not” …..”Yes you will”….”I said no!”…. “But I say please” etc.  The volume is getting louder and louder, I know it is my time to break this little quarrel up.  At this point I still have yet to know what this fight is about; I am assuming it is a toy of some sort.  If I was a betting woman I would put my money on the Blue DSi in the back.  Not the Pink “Regular DS” That pretty much does the same thing… But the blue one.  Teague thinks that he is the rightful holder of the blue one since he is a boy and that the pink is Tybee’s.  In all actuality they both are Miss Tybee’s.  Before you all start thinking poor guy, his sister has two and he doesn’t have any.. He has a toddler learning version of the DS but it is not good enough!

I finally break up the squabble in rear with my simple question “What are we arguing about back there as I stare them down in the rear view mirror.  Intimidation is not my thing, so I do the best I can with my stare down.  ;)  Tybee breaks the concentration with this comment “Teague says he wants to marry me.  I am not marrying him!”  I try so hard not to laugh or even crack a smile.  I look over at Teague.  He innocently says “Me ask her please.”  Now let me just give you the visual of what he looked like… (o my goodness it will melt your  heart)  Teague is looking over at Tybee on his right with his Big Blue eyes and his hands in the praying position, begging and pleading for her to marry him.  I don’t even know where he came up with this!  It starts again.

Teague: “I’m going to marry you Tybee.”

Tybee: “No way Teague”

Teague: “Please Tybee I lobe (love) you”

Tybee: “I love you too but I am not marrying you.”

Teague: (looks at me very confidently) “I’m marrying Tybee”

Tybee: “Well are you buying me a big diamond?”  - At this point, I am dying with laughter trying to keep it in!

Teague: Yep

Tybee: “It costs a lot of money”

Teague: “My moneys goes to Disney world.”

(They’ve been saving all their money to go to Disney world.  Teaching them about saving.)

Tybee: “To bad then Sucka” – What?!?!!?

I then chime in.  Bickering is one thing… name calling is a whole other.  “That’s not nice Tybee.  You should try to be more sensitive to his feelings.” I then direct my attention to Teague “Teague I’ll marry you.”

Teague: “Mom you’re Poopy.”

Rejected by a 3 year old… Does wonders for your self esteem…  I had some names of my own to call him at that point (obviously I’m kidding), but felt Tybee’s pain. I couldn’t help but laugh.

With all this, I have to wonder why it isn’t illegal to talk in the car to your children.  It’s much more distracting that a cell phone! ;)

Momma's Multi-tasking Morning

As a mom you learn fast that the simplest tasks become just a slight bit more challenging with each child. Your tool against this? Multi-tasking.  If you were not a multi- tasker before you soon become an expert at this skill or you fall by the waste side. If a boss is looking for some one to do multiple jobs and just pay one salary, look for a mom. It is a normal day to be talking on the phone washing dishes and picking up a towel that I dropped with my toes.  That’s easy peasy.  

Today, I had a not so easy one.  I was driving the kids to daycare this morning on my daily route and Teague starts in with his candy episodes (see blog below). From the back I hear, “ I want candy, I want candy, I want candy.”, in this mono-tone voice (that tends to go up an octive when ‘ca’ letters of candy) Meanwhile, Tybee is telling me a detailed story about how if she wiggles her tooth with the correct fingers in the correct direction (which was to the left-by the way) that her tooth seems to wiggle more and seems looser than it is if she wiggles it to the right.  I am, again driving, chiming in on Tybee’s conversation when it is called for, listening to Teaguer’s candy hym that he has going on back there, and the radio is on just enough to drowned out my own thoughts.  Just then sliding down a single piece of silk is a tan spider that looks nasty.  Almost like those albino ones that look even creaper than your average spider.  He is running all over the window next to me on the driver’s side. I think to myself, “how the heck did he get in here.” I almost freeze about what to do next.

But instinctively I carry on like any mother would, “So your tooth only wiggles to the left but only with your middle finger and thumb?”, “ Honey, I don’t have any candy right now and its 7:30 am.  No candy sir.”, and I start searching for something to kill this 8 legged creature with.  My shoe, um no.  It would be nearly impossible to get these strappy heels off without swirving the Jeep.  I watch the road glancing around to find something before this nasty thing crawls on me! 

Then I get a Clue©…

So Mr. Creapy Crawly was killed in the driver’s side window using a McFlurry spoon. Then of course I shreik a little because of the grossness, the kids both stop and say “what momma”, I say “O, nothing. Just so excited about loose teeth, candy for everyone when we get home tonight!”

         

          All in all, I’d say a pretty successful morning so far.  I drop the kids off at daycare. I get back into the caI fix my hair in the mirror, and sit up a little straighter.  Proud to be who I am at this very second in time. I am a multi-tasking, bug smashing, kid shuttling, safe driving, high-heel wearing, dish washing, negotioating conversationalist who often goes by the name Mom. 

          Maybe I should think about changing the name of this blog, Smashing in Heels sounds about right ;)

The Candy Man Can...

It is one of the most humiliating days in a mother’s life when she realizes her child is a criminal.  The day when it all comes clear to you, the day your guilt our weights your pride, the day when you consider rehab for them.  The day where you hang your head in shame because you don’t know how on earth you will ever hold your head up high again. You just keep thinking to yourself, "How did I let this happen?"

That day was today for me.  I realize that my son may need rehab.  Yes, I said it.  My three year old super hero may need help.  He has found a force that is greater than him.  It is his weakness, his kryptonite, if you will.  What is this awful substance that is leading my precious child down the path to destruction?  CANDY!  My son is addicted.  Wakes up in the morning it is the first thing he asks for.  Heck sometimes I find it stashed in his pillow.  No joke... They were Hershey kisses.  Like many mothers, I have a bowl filled with deliciousness hidden way out of reach.  It is on top of a phone book (what other use do those ancient books have nowadays) at the peak of my fridge. My kids get candy as a reward and when we first get home they have a choice of a snack.  Good, right???

Well I guess I knew this day would be here someday just didn’t realize it would be my kid.  I thought i could turn him around.  Get him back on a sugar free path.  No more powder for this little guy --- I am talking about fun dip.... What were you thinking, ridiculous! ;)  I should have seen the signs. He was always looking to get his next piece.   He would sneak candy in the checkout lines just until you got ready to pay so that he would HAVE to get the candy bar because he said he NEEDED it.  I was just trying to make him happy.  I thought what harm one piece of candy can do. Wow was I wrong.

Then the problem got to be on a bigger scale.  He then started to blatantly unwrap the goodies in the middle of the store pop it in his mouth like someone owed him this piece.  No longer asking for the candy or even waiting to pay for it. 

Then I found the stashes of sugar delights under his pillow and in his pants pockets.  When I confronted him about the candy i had found, he clearly stated "Batman told me." Clearly delusional now losing all sense of reality.  Living in Candy Land, standing on the top of Gum Drop Mountain dancing with princess Lolly by his side.  He started passing through the house just saying "I want candy, I want candy, I want candy momma." Sounding like a broken record. 
 

But today was the last straw, I was humiliated and in shock.  My son had a problem.  I realized it when I dropped him off at daycare today and we were doing our morning routine there.  Take off coat.  Take of shoes and socks and head down stairs.  But wait what is that.  Is that a band- aid on his foot? What the... OMG!  My son sat down to take of his shoes and socks and takes of his second sock and says Tada.... Super hero laffy taffy just got pulled out of his sock!  He had smuggled candy to school today in his shoe!!!!  He says his Tada and darts down the stairs holding his victory straight up towards the sky as he gets out of my site. 

So now I have no choice but to stick him in the swamp with the Molasses monster, Lord Licorice waiting for him when he gets out and Grandma Nutt to whip him back in shape.  

:)

p.s. I am sorry I haven't blogged very much lately.  With an newly addict son, lets just say I've been running around in heels more often due to sugar intake!

Love Train

Who knew a certain noise that used to make me sigh with utter irritation, would somehow sway my feelings about it today. This same noise that has been known to cause me to be late, frustrated, and would lose sleep because it was so loud. The clickety clack almost mimicking the tick tocks of the minutes being wasted by me staring at the never ending train going by. A whistle, similar to that of a tea kettle's scream, has melted my soul. As crazy as it sounds, maybe that whistle was just screaming out the words "This is real" in the only decimal my stubborn soul could hear. Maybe my ears are left punctured by those promising everything and wounded by those who gave nothing.

 

    One last kiss and I am on the train, doing everything I can not to turn around and bolt in the other direction. In the passenger car, I sit in utter silence. My head is still swirling with what I heard this brisk morning. Those words "this is it", I've thought I have heard them before, but those times were more like a slight mumble that could easily have been misheard. Now I know I obviously misheard but this time there was no mistaking. As I sit completely alone and exhausted from the days just before, I drift off. Not to sleep, but in thought. I rest my head on my smaller luggage. Even though I am alone, I don't feel like it at all. I can still feel his presence next to me. I still hear his voice and feel his touch. My memory starts to take over; I think about our bodies lying next to one another and feeling his chest move with each breathe he took. Or how he looks when he sleeps. Or how I have to restrain from saying "I love you" every time I look into his eyes. Or how his lips felt the moment ours touch. Or that how I actually have to remind myself to breathe when he does something to take my breath away. I replay all the words he said; I suddenly realize how chilly it is on the train. The temperature doesn't help when just the thought of him gives me goose bumps.

 

    I left him that day with no regrets, no worries and no uneasiness of where this is going. Even with his name. Chris. Somehow it doesn't bother me. That name that scarred my soul so long ago doesn't seem to leave a bitter taste in my mouth when I speak it. I may never be able to call him Chris, he deserves better in my eyes. I then vow to just call him Christopher. I knew the first day I met him that I was in trouble. I have never been so nervous meeting someone. I was blushing the majority of the time that night as we sit next to the abnormally large tree in the middle of the restaurant. I couldn't even look in his eyes without smiling. I knew this was different than anything I had experienced before.

 

    The trains loud scream, disrupts my thoughts. I realize that my face is starting to ache from smiling. The train that day took on a whole new meaning. That noise, that abrupt yell, was one telling me that this was it. That I can let my guard down. That if I just give in I could experience what most people only read about. So next time I am actually looking forward to getting yelled at by that engine because it brings back my heart to me.

 

The Glamorous Life of a Mom (not for ones with weak stomachs)

This week has been extra glamorous in the mothering world that revolves around my house. Wednesday did not start out as a "normal" day in our house hold and I do use the word normal lightly. I get woke up by the two year old living in my house with unpaid rent at 2:30 in the morning. He claims his belly hurts. As a mom you know that EVERYTHING is hurts. Your kids just happen to see a scratch that they received over a week ago and suddenly they are screaming bloody murder about how bad it is killing them. You do all of your mommy duties by kissing it and putting a band-aid on it (even though this scab is ready to come off on its own) and like that they are all better! Well in this particular case at his particular hour I was not the one who was doing the duty. It was my son! I look at him and he is standing there looking like he just stepped out of a dude ranch. I spent so much time analyzing what he looked like, I then get to be the lucky one to notice that it is now running down his leg. That night/morning we went through 5 or 6 pull-ups and one hurling incident in between the hours of 230 and 6 am. I keep thinking "he is one little guy, where does this keep coming from?"

Teague & I both get ready to try and get some sleep. He curls up next to me in my bed, the whole time I am praying that the mudslide is over. Luckily someone heard my prayers, the mess was over. We get about an hour of shut eye before Tybee has to get ready for school. I open my eyes and look straight to the ceiling. I actually have to get my focus because I see something. I have a Moroccan style bedroom with a canopy over my bed. I open my eyes to see there is an empty water bottle up in my canopy. Seriously? Wonder which one of my beautiful children thought that this was a great idea. I get the trash out of my lovely bedding, because I don't believe there are water bottles in Morocco. We go through the "normal" (again I use this lightly) morning routine.

Now let me ask you this, why is it that we can NEVER find a hair brush in our house. We have 3 brushes and somehow they are never where Tybee left them and it is NEVER her fault. J I bought her a huge hair brush that I thought would not be able to get misplaced. I guess I was wrong, because we can't find it again. She gets dressed (that is a whole other story) and in the mean time I am making breakfast. As I start cooking, Monkey comes in. "My belly hurts", Oh crap I think to myself and I did mean literally. I frantically check his pull-up. Totally fine. He went and lay down on the couch while Tybee finished getting ready. As she comes down the stairs, I notice that her hair has been brushed. "Oh you found your hair brush?" I ask. She sheepishly says "Yes", not giving out any more information that I ask her for. I ask the loaded question. "That's great, where did you find it?" She is now looking at the floor and mumbles something under her breath. Right then I knew I had won the hair brush battle that day. I ask again "What? Where did you find it?" "In my sock drawer" she says very in a very loud and frustrated voice, must have been because I made her repeat herself. I totally giggle to myself. I'll tell you what that the best payback in the world is being right when your kid things you are crazy. I now understand the saying "Mother knows best" saying. Mother doesn't ALWAYS know best but that doesn't stop her from liking to relive and gloat about the times she does!

Tybee goes off to school and it is just Teague and I. We went movies and veg out on the couch together. I then have a knock on the door. My friend decided to stop by. With all due respect, I appreciate the gesture of people stopping by to see if you "need" anything while your little one is sick, Thank you for that. What I do not appreciate is it being unexpected where I have no make-up on, have not showered in 2 days, and running on fumes from the lack of sleep. I am lounging with Monkey in yoga pants and a superhero T shirt (thought it would cheer him up). Hair looks like hurricane Katrina attacked it & I am sure that even on my worst days, I looked better than this day! My house has an aftermath aroma of the previous mudslide and I am pretending that everything is great and that we are doing just fine.

Like I said thank you for the gesture but a text message or even a phone call would have been enough! :)

Of course half way through the day, Monkey felt fine; you would have never known he was sick. I am regretting saying home from work if he felt this good AND then IT happened….. Monkey found the Scratch; you know the one where he is suffering and going to bleed to death? Yep that one!

Sure is glamorous being a mom J

***On a side note*** Think I found Tybee a hair brush, wonder if it comes in Pink :)  hehe

Tails versus Trails

I did it!  I have figured out what is the underlying problem with kids now days.  Why these kids seem disrespectful, unsocial, the reason why they have no feeling for others or do not work well in groups. The answer is simple really and it has to do with one thing everyone has always thought was the problem.  Video games.  My take on this touchy subject is MUCH different than what the “experts” have to say.  They say there is too much violence, too much time playing them, or not enough creative thinking while playing these games.  I disagree (all besides the creative thinking one).  

With a world leaning towards technology in every aspect of our lives, taking away the video games is just ludicrous and nearly impossible. You can’t get away from them.  They have DSI’s and iPads.  Games follow them everywhere.  There are games you can download on your phone and guess what kids know this!  So you can kill yourself by trying to get rid or block every video game you come in contact or you can figure out a way to deal with it! 

My proposal for the change in video games came to my when my two year old son was forming an addiction to the app Angry Birds. He wakes up in the morning gets my phone and continues to play Angry Birds.  Now if you haven’t seen this game or have been living under a rock with no Internet connection signal, I will explain it to you. This game had 180 levels and you can show off your achievements by Facebook or Twitter.  The whole object of the game is to get revenge on the egg stealing green pigs who stole the bird’s eggs by using a sling shot to rocket the now “angry birds”.  First, I want to state that my boss introduced me to this game so it is addicting for all ages. Second, I have never actually seen these green pigs “steal” the bird eggs, so I almost feel bad for the little hammies.

I can’t help but think how pointless is this game and what is it teaching the world.  The answer: Completely pointless and absolutely nothing.  **Side note I have found myself playing this game, I would be a hypocrite to say otherwise and it is fun** Still, it is completely stupid.  This game though made my wheels start spinning; we played video games in school on the huge computers when we FINALLY got them.  We turned out just fine, well most of my generation and a few years younger.  Then it hit me; the game we played was Oregon Trail!

Oregon Trail, now there is an educational game teaching you everything you need to know!  So this is my proposal: let your child play video games but make sure that Oregon Trail is a requirement!  Now let’s define this game, so pull up your socks, we’re going back to elementary school. You take a journey of 200 miles across the Oregon Trail in a pack with other people in their fashionably covered wagons, through the plains, rivers and mountains.  You and your family, slosh through the mud and water, with your trusty oxen that you bought at the local market and pray that you are not swallowed alive.  You get to hunt buffaloes and bears but not before you buy supplies to allow you do to so. There are chances that your wagon might burn or that thieves steal your cattle or that you or your family members die of polio.  But hey let’s make it even more realistic and let you put messages on your tombstone.

You learn math at the market.  You learn responsibility as you protect your family and have to feed them.  You learn loyalty. You learn the hardship of accomplishment and you learn the loss and to remorse.  All these things are necessities that all kids should learn eventually. You learn while your play, and don’t even realize it, much better than playing that Mrs. Crabtree’s Friendly Fraction game. J  Also, much more than I can say about Sling Shot Bird game!

So there you have it my input on how to create world peace: Implement the Oregon Trail. What can I say I am one smart woman who is trying to figure out how to impact our youth one video game at a time!



We have a floater...

A few months ago, right after we moved into the new house, I decided to get Teague a pet.  Tybee already has her cat, French Vanilla Milkshake, and the family has Styx the Beta fish.  A dog was out of the question for a minute, at least until Teague is potty trained!  I cannot be potty training two  at a time.  That is just a recipe for disaster. Well Mr. Teague was weighing his options between a frog and a fish.  Ultimately, after what I am sure what the HARDEST decision of his life up to this point, he picked a fish.  We went to three different pet stores to find the perfect supplies for his new pal.   Teague picked out a little blue fish tank and the bottom was lined with black rocks to match his Batman room, of course.  This, itself, was an accomplishment.  Later we picked up a fish at Pet Smart.  They had the most selection of the type of fish we needed for his fresh water tank and they had a 30 day guarantee on their fish (anyone with a two year old knows that a guarantee for any type of animal where a child can play in its water is a good thing!) 

We looked at every fish tank trying to find the perfect fish for Teague.  He quickly lost interest after I told him Nemo would not survive in the tank he picked out.  Finally we see black goldfish.  He immediately says “It’s Batman.”  That was it.  This was the one we were taking home.  The Pet Smart Lady (who was a little too fond of animals for my liking -I mean taking the phrase “Pet Smart” to a whole new level) was kind enough to tell us everything we had to do to get Batman in his home.

We set up the tank and had everything ready, and then the moment came to put in Batman.  Teague shrieked with excitement.  He stares and talks to it, which by the way is the sweetest thing ever.  I start packing their bags to go to their dad’s house and all too soon they are on their way there.

  When I get back home, I start to clean the house.  I get to Teague’s room and Batman is barely moving.  I nicely tap on the glass, even though I know they hate that, any reaction even negative would be good at this point.  Nope, he was a goner.  I knew what I needed to do.  I needed to take Pet Smart up on there so called “Guarantee”; I rushed back to the store again to get a replacement fish before the kids got home in the morning.  This poor guy didn’t even last 24 hours.  I took in the fish that had seen better days in a Ziploc with a little bit of water.  They tested the water when I got there to see what the problem was; ammonia was too high, but the kid helping me said that it could have been just because the dead fish was in the bag also.  Let me tell you, right now I was actually missing the crazy pet lady who had helped us previously because the kid acted so confused.  Anyways, I head home with a new fish and am told to put a little more of the Ph balancer in the tank. And so I did.

A fresh start, a new batman and the kids had no clue the next morning that this wasn’t the same fish.  I was in the clear.  No melt downs, no heart aches, just two happy children with a new little guy to love. Well guess what, this darn fish only lasted three days. Dang it!   How I found out this time: Teague comes to me and says Batman is sick, sure enough he is floating on top no longer Batman black but more of a silver color.  Okay, so let’s think about this: I have been through the Michael Keaton Batman and now the Val Kilmer Batman.  Let’s try again with George Clooney… not feeling much hope with this guy though… he was the worst of the Batmans.

I talked to the original crazy pet lady this time and gave her my sample water with no fish and tell her what has been going on.  She advises me to let the tank run fish free for 3 days.  I do just that.  I tell the kids that Batman is at the doctor and they totally buy it.  I pick up Batman (George) in exactly 3 days.  This guy lasts for one day.  We all know that it can’t be Cat Woman hurting this Batman since she doesn’t like water.  Now I don’t know what to do… Do I even attempt Christian Bale or is this water infested by the Penguin himself?