Monday. Monday is the day of the week that has meaning behind it. If you said, "ugg, today is totally a Tuesday" people would think you were headed to some mid-scale restaurant where kids eat free. "It's such a Monday" is a blanket statement that can be used on any day of the week (though rarely a Friday if you're lucky) to define relentless difficulties and ridiculous obstacles facing you through out the day. I suppose it's because Mondays are always hard days; the start back to work (for most) or school, and rough to come off the typical 2-day weekend. Monday is always a hard day, but any day can be a hard day and thus considered a Monday.
This particular Monday I had an ACTUAL Monday. Though I have grown to accept the fact that daily life will provide many obstacles and more then one surprise due, simply, to the number of people living in my house, I am always excited (I am lying) to see what will surprise me next. Though I have accepted the fact that chaos is the rule, not the exception, I am still thrown curve balls that seem to balloon out of control once in awhile. The thing I love about a true torture session "Monday" is that every time you think you've reached the limit or the bottom or the wall, guess what? You have not, my friend. You have not.
This Monday proved to be like most Mondays since we started back to school; the kids didn't want to go and they were violently fighting as well as moving eye-stabbingly slow. Normal. The only thing they wanted for breakfast was ice cream (really? I mean have I ever said, 'yes lets have ice cream at 8 a.m.'? I never even allow that on the weekends. I like to eat crap food but, seriously. Stop asking me for ice cream for breakfast!!), and we settled on corndogs. (A far step up from ice cream but not my choice for a breakfast food EVER; just for the record.) They fought so much and messed around so long we had to drive to school instead of walk; insert new round of fit throwing, as if it were my choice to torture my children by making them on time for school.
I finally usher everyone out of the garage, put the scooters and stroller away and head to the car. Then BOOM my car ignition won't turn; we have the type of car that the key only has to be in the car for it to start so I was hoping it was only a battery in the key issue. Luckily it was easy for me to figure out how to take the ignition and my key apart and start the car the ol' fashioned way. After two of the three were delivered safely and in a timely manner to school, with the only delay being a forgotten backpack, I headed back home to grab my coffee cup, a granola bar, the munchkin's juice cup and his lovie. I knew we may possibly be out for a long day since I had to go get the battery replaced in my key (lord knows where the second key would be, and I do like to lock my cars once in awhile); my phone needed to get into the cell phone store because it kept turning itself off (thank goodness my kids get up early because my alarm never would have gone off on my Monday); and over the weekend we discovered what we figured was a hernia on the munchkin's bits and lord knows we need to get THAT checked out. So while we waited for the pediatrician to open I decided to hit the battery shop.
Was I wrong? Was this going to be a spectacular day after all? Was the sweet battery kid who took my key, replaced my battery and charged me a whopping $3.62 my silver lining? I could have kissed that young man. I was so happy to have such a simple and inexpensive solution to something that could have been a huge pain if I had to drive to the car dealer! Yay for me!! I even got in touch with the pediatrician and got a 2pm appointment which left time for the phone store, lunch, and possibly either a visit to a friend or a nap for the midget in the backseat. Win!
Wrong.
The phone store was closed till 10a.m. so we killed time in Michaels. They had lots of crafts on clearance - win again. They did NOT have a cheap $1 car to appease my tiny person, and I refused to buy him the $15 Melissa and Doug train set again that I had just given away last week. Insert fit. Appease fit when he saw the Trolli Octopus candy! I didn't have anything else full price so I also got to use my 50% off coupon on said candies. Win. Then we changed a poop. We got of Michael's with no tears and then we headed to the phone store. They had just opened and they were swamped so I thought we could go to the bank and swing back by in 15 minutes.
My backseat munchkin was busy ingesting twelve weeks' worth of sugar eating his Trollies and he choked briefly as I pulled into the drive thru at the bank. I turned around and he seemed fine. He even smiled and went back for his next candy, so I grabbed the little tube that shoots through space and into the bank. As I was filling out my check and deposit slip he choked again and vomited. Yes I said vomited. Although he vomited only candy (much too un-chewed might I add), puke still has that puke smell. I threw the empty magic tube back into it's holder, flew out of the drive thru and into a shaded parking space. Here, as I was hopelessly trying to clean a preschooler and a cow print carseat with baby wipes, I happened upon this tidbit; FACT: baby wipes may dissipate the smell of poop on a tush but they do NOT do a lick of good to disperse the smell of puke off of or out of or away from anything. Sad but true.
I did my best. The poor kid kept saying he needed 'more wipes' and I had to convince him we'd just have to head home. I did go through the bank drive thru since I was, after all, already there and had endorsed my check. And, of course, I also had to exchange a fully ripped $20 bill I'd been carrying around for months. So needless to say, a little puke didn't keep me from one last errand. I am sure, however, that the faint stench of puke helped hurry along my process on behalf of the teller! After this exchange we skipped the phone store and lunch and our friends. We headed home. And the crib midget fell asleep. In his own puke. Gross.
I carried him inside and all the way upstairs and he didn't wake up. I already knew I was not going to leave him clothed but I thought if I put him in my bed and just de-robe him he could snuggle under the blankies in his diaper to nap. Too bad his diaper had vomit on it as well. Bleh. So we are now in a full-on change and while I am at it I might as well try to un-puke-smell his hands. Oh and change my clothes and disinfect my hands and on and on because who can stand the smell of puke even if it doesn't smell anymore, because it sure does seem like it does! So long story short he had a two hour nap in 10 minutes and was up to torture me the rest of the afternoon. At least I had the pediatrician appointment to look forward to! (I say torture not because I don't love my kid and want to spend time with him, but he is normally a huge grump with the lack of nap.)
Meanwhile, I have managed to be productive enough to call a friend's handy man to come fix a sink that has been broken for an embarrassingly long time. This would be my second silver lining; he would be over in an hour and it was going to be very reasonable to fix. Well, the poor guy showed up and it was not the easy fix he had hoped (back story: daughter dropped a necklace down my sink; sweet husband cracked the p-trap taking it apart; pipe was odd size and blah blah blah I don't understand but basically was not an easy fix even after 4 trips to 3 hardware stores.) I am pleased to announce that the handy man also admitted that it was a really tough fix and not my sweet hubby's fault at all. Something about cutting walls and pipes and maybe moving the vanity. But he could do it and it would only cost a little more money. SOLD. WIN. He was done in an hour; silver lining!! Fact: there needs to be more honest, hard working, country men who want to fix stuff at a reasonable cost, do a good job, and not make fun of you.
Next adventure: the pediatrician with not so great news. But, the tiny human was such a good boy, and we will have a follow up with the potential for some surgery. Woah. Heavy for a Monday, no? Just do not ever Google the possibilities of swollen testicle; the results are off the wall and terrifying. And I am not even a dude. Third silver lining of the day was that the little guy fell asleep on the way home and I was in time to pick up the kids from school. Plus, the pediatrician was going to have their office make all the annoying scheduling calls and let ME know where they could get him in ASAP. Win!
I am sitting and writing this now, and it all seems slightly trivial. The carseat is still part in the wash and part in the yard and maybe it will be put back sometime this week (luckily we have an extra). The phone continues to possess itself but hey, there is always tomorrow. I am thankful my kiddos do not suffer any life threatening illnesses and I can rest more easily knowing that a little hernia rarely kills anyone.
It is a fact that it can always be worse. It is a fact that I need more honest people in my life to fix my broken things (my car keys or my sink) and make me happy when they are simply doing a good job. It is a win when my kids are all safe, healthy and asleep before 9p.m. And silver linings are everywhere in each day, even if it is a Monday on the most unsuspecting day of the week.
Monday, September 15, 2014
Monday, June 9, 2014
Today's Thoughts...and Choice Words
SO - the phrase of the day is "he also called it the
F-word". I could end my blog entry here and you would get the gist
of the rest of this post. The added bonus of the day (story to follow)
was summed up by my husband saying, "it was a good run; it's the end
of an era."
Starting with the end of "the good life" - today we lost the innocence of my 6-year-old daughter when she learned the F-bomb from a kid at school; and our not-quite-2-and-a-half-year-old decided he can all of a sudden pole vault out of his crib. I have one word for all of THAT - but I am trying to set a good example; one better than the kid at school set today.
I love that my daughter feels safe enough to approach my husband and I about questions about what she has heard at school. The worst part is trying not to laugh at her when she looks you in the eye at the dinner table and says "what word does this mean?" and hold up her middle finger. We said we weren't sure but we knew it was not nice and not something little girls do. She admitted who she heard it from at school, and we encouraged her not to share her 'finger moves' with any other children. She seemed to take everything seriously and we moved on in conversation. After the younger boys had finished and left the table, she turned to my husband and as clear as a bell, with a face straighter then Hitler's, and a curiosity that killed 12 cats said, "well, do you know what the word F*#K means?" (Because we were obviously stupid enough not to know what the middle finger meant; which I am guessing she already knew meant the F-word!)
My darling husband has a bad poker face; when he is uncomfortable or shocked or in trouble he smiles, or worse, he laughs. This sort of thing might get a person in trouble with authority, wives, and today, daughters. Yes, yes he did. He laughed out loud as she asked her question again. The shock of the clearest, sweetest use of the F-word rolled off my daughter's tongue and slapped my husband on the funny bone. Now, I admit, I also smiled for a small second because, let's face it, although this is quite tragic, I am hoping you can also see how hilarious it is. Pure innocence, totally and simply inquiring as to what the meaning of this strange word was.
To make light of the laughing encouragement, my husband did explain to her how it wasn't funny but, "I laugh when I am uncomfortable, and it is very shocking to hear someone so young say that word." I could go on and on explaining how we explained to her how naughty this word is. For example, “If you say it to a police officer you will go to jail." To which she replied, "even kids?" We said "yes." :) You get the idea...
After 5 minutes of explaining away why not to say it, and how we would have to tell her teacher about the kid who taught her the word, she said "he also calls it the F-word." Commence the second 5-minute round of explanations. After all of this, she simply said, "okay but what does it MEAN?" Sigh. We said, "it doesn't really mean anything. It's just a dirty nasty word." I mean - she would have been scarred for life if we had told her all the context and meanings of the F-word! So versatile is that one...
I am happy to announce that my darling daughter was already in bed when that choice F-bomb dropped out of my mouth when my 2-year-old appeared in the hall after we had put him to bed. I was hoping it was simply a scary-movie-come-to-life when babies crawl walls or whatever. Alas, it was truly the tiny human who is apparently slightly less tiny then yesterday, but 10 times more stubborn. Thank God for the video monitor - my husband and I stood outside his door and went in every time he got up to try to climb out. I like to think that tiny human was thinking, "How the F do they know what I am doing?" HAHAHA the joke is on you, kid. Third time's a charm; mom and dad are smarter than at least one kid. For now!
In ending, I am just proud to say that my daughter respects the F word and has no intention of spreading awareness or using it at all. I am most delighted in the fact that she felt safe enough in our relationship with her to ask us about the F-word, and when we asked her where she heard it she DID NOT say, “You!”
Starting with the end of "the good life" - today we lost the innocence of my 6-year-old daughter when she learned the F-bomb from a kid at school; and our not-quite-2-and-a-half-year-old decided he can all of a sudden pole vault out of his crib. I have one word for all of THAT - but I am trying to set a good example; one better than the kid at school set today.
I love that my daughter feels safe enough to approach my husband and I about questions about what she has heard at school. The worst part is trying not to laugh at her when she looks you in the eye at the dinner table and says "what word does this mean?" and hold up her middle finger. We said we weren't sure but we knew it was not nice and not something little girls do. She admitted who she heard it from at school, and we encouraged her not to share her 'finger moves' with any other children. She seemed to take everything seriously and we moved on in conversation. After the younger boys had finished and left the table, she turned to my husband and as clear as a bell, with a face straighter then Hitler's, and a curiosity that killed 12 cats said, "well, do you know what the word F*#K means?" (Because we were obviously stupid enough not to know what the middle finger meant; which I am guessing she already knew meant the F-word!)
My darling husband has a bad poker face; when he is uncomfortable or shocked or in trouble he smiles, or worse, he laughs. This sort of thing might get a person in trouble with authority, wives, and today, daughters. Yes, yes he did. He laughed out loud as she asked her question again. The shock of the clearest, sweetest use of the F-word rolled off my daughter's tongue and slapped my husband on the funny bone. Now, I admit, I also smiled for a small second because, let's face it, although this is quite tragic, I am hoping you can also see how hilarious it is. Pure innocence, totally and simply inquiring as to what the meaning of this strange word was.
To make light of the laughing encouragement, my husband did explain to her how it wasn't funny but, "I laugh when I am uncomfortable, and it is very shocking to hear someone so young say that word." I could go on and on explaining how we explained to her how naughty this word is. For example, “If you say it to a police officer you will go to jail." To which she replied, "even kids?" We said "yes." :) You get the idea...
After 5 minutes of explaining away why not to say it, and how we would have to tell her teacher about the kid who taught her the word, she said "he also calls it the F-word." Commence the second 5-minute round of explanations. After all of this, she simply said, "okay but what does it MEAN?" Sigh. We said, "it doesn't really mean anything. It's just a dirty nasty word." I mean - she would have been scarred for life if we had told her all the context and meanings of the F-word! So versatile is that one...
I am happy to announce that my darling daughter was already in bed when that choice F-bomb dropped out of my mouth when my 2-year-old appeared in the hall after we had put him to bed. I was hoping it was simply a scary-movie-come-to-life when babies crawl walls or whatever. Alas, it was truly the tiny human who is apparently slightly less tiny then yesterday, but 10 times more stubborn. Thank God for the video monitor - my husband and I stood outside his door and went in every time he got up to try to climb out. I like to think that tiny human was thinking, "How the F do they know what I am doing?" HAHAHA the joke is on you, kid. Third time's a charm; mom and dad are smarter than at least one kid. For now!
In ending, I am just proud to say that my daughter respects the F word and has no intention of spreading awareness or using it at all. I am most delighted in the fact that she felt safe enough in our relationship with her to ask us about the F-word, and when we asked her where she heard it she DID NOT say, “You!”
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
It's Been Too Long and New Inspirations
Wow, I can not believe it has been almost 2 years since I posted to this blog. I started a Twitter account to keep track of the funny stuff my kids say but I need to pick this back up.
This time I am not holding back. I have a new perspective on my own life, and life around me in general. I need to tell it like it is. Laugh about the shit that is painful. Let people know life is not beautiful or neat or perfect! I have changed my expectations about who is going to read this crap. It would be a lie to say that I am 'only doing this for me; to document the funny life I lead.' LIE. I find my family totally amusing and you should, too. I should be famous for the crap I put up with from my kids. But I am sure I won't be and that is okay. My new expectation is not to be blog-famous (sigh) but to get JOY out of life in general and find the positive side of all the happenings in my world. So, I hope who ever reads this gets a little bit of joy.
Joy: the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation.
I will not be angry at you if your joy in reading my stories- or babbles, as they may be- comes from feeling better about yourself in the grandeur of my days' demise. I watch the show, 16 and Pregnant to make myself feel better, so why shouldn't you use me to feel better about yourself?!
In finding the joy in some of the hilariousness of my own life, I will try to catch you up on a few funny things that my kids have said in the past 'while'. These are adapted from a couple of tweets starting in June 2013. (Daughter is my oldest, Middle is my middle son, and Tiny Human is my youngest son).
This time I am not holding back. I have a new perspective on my own life, and life around me in general. I need to tell it like it is. Laugh about the shit that is painful. Let people know life is not beautiful or neat or perfect! I have changed my expectations about who is going to read this crap. It would be a lie to say that I am 'only doing this for me; to document the funny life I lead.' LIE. I find my family totally amusing and you should, too. I should be famous for the crap I put up with from my kids. But I am sure I won't be and that is okay. My new expectation is not to be blog-famous (sigh) but to get JOY out of life in general and find the positive side of all the happenings in my world. So, I hope who ever reads this gets a little bit of joy.
Joy: the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation.
I will not be angry at you if your joy in reading my stories- or babbles, as they may be- comes from feeling better about yourself in the grandeur of my days' demise. I watch the show, 16 and Pregnant to make myself feel better, so why shouldn't you use me to feel better about yourself?!
In finding the joy in some of the hilariousness of my own life, I will try to catch you up on a few funny things that my kids have said in the past 'while'. These are adapted from a couple of tweets starting in June 2013. (Daughter is my oldest, Middle is my middle son, and Tiny Human is my youngest son).
- While driving along I was curious what my tiniest human was babbling about and so I asked Middle, "is he laughing" to which Middle replied, "no, he is just amazed at what he sees". Hum, I find this ironic since Tiny Human is sitting rear-facing in his car seat, in a DARK car!
- After my latest hair-do, which I went to great lengths to think about, plan, Google pictures, and finally decide on, Daughter says, "Your hair is pretty, mom. It's brown and blonde; something I've never seen before". Sigh, I guess I need a touch up!
- Husband, "penguin"; Daughter, "what did you say?"; Husband, "penguin"; Daughter, "what did you say?"; Husband, "Penguin!"; Daughter, "pig with wings??"
- My Aunt visited my parents' simultaneously to us, and when she asked Middle, "how many chickens do Grammie and Grampie have?" Middle replied, "I know horses poop their babies". Hum, thanks, buddy. Very valuable information, even if it is not relevant to the current chicken population on the farm.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Booty and the Trampoline
SO as I am standing in line for the 'worst mom in the world' certificate (not far from the front); I come to admit what some moms are utterly embarrassed to. "I LET MY KIDS WATCH TV. and SOME DAYS I LET MY KIDS WATCH LOTS OF TV."
There. I said it. Now moving on...
Our daily argument between the 3 year-old and 4 year-old is, "whose turn is it to pic a show?" My first thought is always, "we never got to pick when I was a kid! What was on was what you got! And you HAD to watch commercials!" Now, my kids are used to having things 'ON DEMAND' with no commercials, or I have DVR'd the three latest of their favorite shows. Lots of their favorite shows are on a channel with no commercials, anyway!
Don't get me wrong - I love channels or on demands or recordings with no commercials. Otherwise it's, "mommy, mommy, mommy, commercial. Fast forward it!" I have tired to teach both kids how to do this on their own but somehow it is better when I do it for them.
The problem is that at 6:30 a.m. when I have just put the baby down for a 'nap' and my preschoolers come rolling in ready to face the day with the energy of 10,000 sugared-up fire ants, I like to put on a 24 minute show (wishing they made 45 minute shows!) and hide my head under the pillow and do what my husband and I like to call "pretending to sleep." Pretending to sleep is a little lie I tell myself so I feel better about the loss of my former self that wouldn't dream of rolling out of bed before 6:45, even when I did have to be at work at 8a.m. Sigh. Commence the 24 minute show and God bless the soul who made it without commercials.
We are normally back out of bed, downstairs, breaking up fights and re-attaching limbs by 7:30 or 8a.m. on a REALLY good day. And we keep the TV off. Until I need to make a call. Or put the baby back down. Or God forbid sit on the toilet by myself. I guess the bottom line is that I use the TV as a babysitter sometimes. Sigh (again). I don't like to admit that. I wish I didn't have to do that. But the honest truth is that somewhere along the line I had 2 kids who fight like the dickens and I can't be having bite marks and missing chunks of hair on them when we go to Target. Life is sometimes quieter and easier with TV.
Athough I don't like the TV we watch as a babysitter, I do like family movie time. When we finish dinner early and make a big bag of home-made popcorn (thank you sweet hubby) and plop down to watch a movie. Cuddles and the works. This warms my heart.
In getting back to the title of this post; a movie that comes up in request from time to time, and has also debuted on the favorites list for a week or so at a time is "Lady and the Tramp." Which Chex calls, "Lady and the Trampoline." Cracks me up every time. And I don't correct him because it is too cute. Now, the other movie he doesn't really like is "Beauty and the Beast." Both kids find it a bit scary I think.
So, here we are coming down the stairs, I have not even said we could watch a movie, and they are screaming at each other and complaining about what they are and are not going to watch. (Because they think THEY are in control. Which, I promise you, they are not.) Chex is behind Sadie and I hear him half cry/half say, "I don't want to watch 'Booty and the Trampoline.'" I about die laughing to myself, and my inner voice says, "me neither, buddy. Someone would surely injure themselves in a very unpleasant location!" Yet, I say nothing. Stifle my snickers. Pull out a craft. Make a gallon of coffee, and smile at my life. Then I consider calling Playboy and offering them the title....
There. I said it. Now moving on...
Our daily argument between the 3 year-old and 4 year-old is, "whose turn is it to pic a show?" My first thought is always, "we never got to pick when I was a kid! What was on was what you got! And you HAD to watch commercials!" Now, my kids are used to having things 'ON DEMAND' with no commercials, or I have DVR'd the three latest of their favorite shows. Lots of their favorite shows are on a channel with no commercials, anyway!
Don't get me wrong - I love channels or on demands or recordings with no commercials. Otherwise it's, "mommy, mommy, mommy, commercial. Fast forward it!" I have tired to teach both kids how to do this on their own but somehow it is better when I do it for them.
The problem is that at 6:30 a.m. when I have just put the baby down for a 'nap' and my preschoolers come rolling in ready to face the day with the energy of 10,000 sugared-up fire ants, I like to put on a 24 minute show (wishing they made 45 minute shows!) and hide my head under the pillow and do what my husband and I like to call "pretending to sleep." Pretending to sleep is a little lie I tell myself so I feel better about the loss of my former self that wouldn't dream of rolling out of bed before 6:45, even when I did have to be at work at 8a.m. Sigh. Commence the 24 minute show and God bless the soul who made it without commercials.
We are normally back out of bed, downstairs, breaking up fights and re-attaching limbs by 7:30 or 8a.m. on a REALLY good day. And we keep the TV off. Until I need to make a call. Or put the baby back down. Or God forbid sit on the toilet by myself. I guess the bottom line is that I use the TV as a babysitter sometimes. Sigh (again). I don't like to admit that. I wish I didn't have to do that. But the honest truth is that somewhere along the line I had 2 kids who fight like the dickens and I can't be having bite marks and missing chunks of hair on them when we go to Target. Life is sometimes quieter and easier with TV.
Athough I don't like the TV we watch as a babysitter, I do like family movie time. When we finish dinner early and make a big bag of home-made popcorn (thank you sweet hubby) and plop down to watch a movie. Cuddles and the works. This warms my heart.
In getting back to the title of this post; a movie that comes up in request from time to time, and has also debuted on the favorites list for a week or so at a time is "Lady and the Tramp." Which Chex calls, "Lady and the Trampoline." Cracks me up every time. And I don't correct him because it is too cute. Now, the other movie he doesn't really like is "Beauty and the Beast." Both kids find it a bit scary I think.
So, here we are coming down the stairs, I have not even said we could watch a movie, and they are screaming at each other and complaining about what they are and are not going to watch. (Because they think THEY are in control. Which, I promise you, they are not.) Chex is behind Sadie and I hear him half cry/half say, "I don't want to watch 'Booty and the Trampoline.'" I about die laughing to myself, and my inner voice says, "me neither, buddy. Someone would surely injure themselves in a very unpleasant location!" Yet, I say nothing. Stifle my snickers. Pull out a craft. Make a gallon of coffee, and smile at my life. Then I consider calling Playboy and offering them the title....
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Hunting Cantaloupe
The other day Chex was marveling at Sadie eating almost an entire half of a cantaloupe by herself;he didn't want to try it. He asked me what it was called and I said, "its cantaloupe, its delicious." His face screwed up into a wrinkled-nose-you've-got-to-be-joking kindda way and he got quiet. (I know, its a miracle he was quiet). A few minutes later he looks at me and says "who shot it?" Being that several minutes had passed I turned to him in confusion. As a blanket of clarity hit me, I started to laugh and had a hard time explaining through the giggles.
You see, I come from a hunting family; I've even killed a few deer myself, when I was a teenager (I know, suburbia hides my lethal side). My baby sister and my dad are best hunting buddies, and this past fall/winter season they took a cross-country trip to Idaho to hunt antelope. Are you getting the blanket of clarity? Chex was staring at his sister in awe as she ate what he thought to be large juicy chunks of antelope and he was wondering if we had slayed and chopped it up right that very morning for every one's dining delight! I explained the difference to him, and he seemed relieved. (Not that the kids haven't seen deer hanging in the barn at my parents' house). He tried the fruit and loved it. I am glad I can teach my children something new every day :)
You see, I come from a hunting family; I've even killed a few deer myself, when I was a teenager (I know, suburbia hides my lethal side). My baby sister and my dad are best hunting buddies, and this past fall/winter season they took a cross-country trip to Idaho to hunt antelope. Are you getting the blanket of clarity? Chex was staring at his sister in awe as she ate what he thought to be large juicy chunks of antelope and he was wondering if we had slayed and chopped it up right that very morning for every one's dining delight! I explained the difference to him, and he seemed relieved. (Not that the kids haven't seen deer hanging in the barn at my parents' house). He tried the fruit and loved it. I am glad I can teach my children something new every day :)
Friday, July 27, 2012
Welcoming thoughts....
Hi - So this is my first attempt at real blogging. I have a photography company (www.masteringyou.com) that I run in blog form, but nothing personal. I have wanted to do this for years; mostly since I had kids; partly as a way to record our memories and fun stories, and also to share the HILARIOUS stuff that seems to be a part of my new 'mom-normal'.
What finally got me off my butt was my middle child and first son, Chex (ok, he's Charles Alexander....If I have to explain further, stop reading). This week (he's 3 & we are potty training) he reverted back from the big potty to the small blue potty (that the potty fairy delivered) when his older sister had to go at the same time...well, he hit #1 and #2 and came away to look and said "look mom, poop soup!" O. M. G. I thought I would die. Thus, the inspiration, and fire under my tush to start this blog. I just CANNOT make this stuff up, people...and believe, me I wish I were :)
SO- Thank you Chex for bringing Mommy to this piece of life. I am hoping to post often, not because I have horrid stories to share, but because I have funny memories that I don't want three children's worth of mommy amnesia to forget!
What finally got me off my butt was my middle child and first son, Chex (ok, he's Charles Alexander....If I have to explain further, stop reading). This week (he's 3 & we are potty training) he reverted back from the big potty to the small blue potty (that the potty fairy delivered) when his older sister had to go at the same time...well, he hit #1 and #2 and came away to look and said "look mom, poop soup!" O. M. G. I thought I would die. Thus, the inspiration, and fire under my tush to start this blog. I just CANNOT make this stuff up, people...and believe, me I wish I were :)
SO- Thank you Chex for bringing Mommy to this piece of life. I am hoping to post often, not because I have horrid stories to share, but because I have funny memories that I don't want three children's worth of mommy amnesia to forget!
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