It’s Spring Break around here. Which means the teacher husband, the work at home mom and the two Elementary kids are ALL home ALL the time. Add in a technological melt down at the mom’s office and it’s pretty crazy. The kids are basically given free reign as long as they stay out of the way and the parents are surviving on humor and coffee.
There’s a friend over, which means they all want to sleep in the same room. There’s been a LOT of giggling this week as the kids float around with sleepovers and playdates and whatever else there is going on. It’s midnight and I hear an argument between Jamie and Cassie erupt. One of those that is probably minor but loud. The friend (J) is not involved, but is cowering on the bed like “seriously, people, I’m an only child, WHAT is the deal?” I walk in, where they both try to tell me the various transgressions…
Me: “Wait, I don’t care. Jamie, apologize to Cassie.”
Jamie: “Sorry, Cassie.”
Me: “Cassie, apologize to Jamie.”
Cassie: “I didn’t do anything!”
Me: “….” (the look)
Cassie: “Sorry, Jamie” (only a little grudgingly)
Me: “Now, Cassie apologize to J”
Cassie: “I didn’t do anything to her.”
Me: “I said…”
Cassie: “Fine, whatever. Sorry, J”
Me: “Jamie… apologize to J”
Jamie: “I’m sorry, J, for fighting with Cassie over nothing while you were here.”
Me: “Oh, that was a good one.”
Jamie: “Yeah, I know” (fist bump)
Me: “Cassie, apologize to me, please.”
Casssie: “But I…”….. “okay, sorry!!!”
Me: *sigh* “Jamie…”
Jamie: “Yeah, mom, I’m really sorry that we were arguing and interrupted your work and you had to come in here to do this.”
Me: “Oh crap… you are getting good at this.”
Tom: *laughing nearly hysterically*
Me: “Yeah, we have a politician on our hands here”
Cassie hasn’t really asked about sex or anything like that and we decided it was time (more on that in a minute) to fill her in a little bit before the kids at school told her god-knows-what. After her shower, I sat down with her in my bedroom and asked her if she had ever heard the word “sex” before. She said yes and I asked her if she knew what it meant. She proudly told me “It means love.” Awwwww… ya know, I think that’s the most apt description I’ve ever heard.
So, anyway, the big reason I brought it up to her is because she hadn’t asked and I knew we needed to have that talk soon. But also because Tom is scheduled to have a vasectomy this week. Can I just say, “Yay!” Our kids are 8 and 10. We’ve been married for 18 years. Everyone in this house can wipe their own butts and buckle their own seat belts. We’re done with the baby-making part of our lives and I’m looking forward to not having to deal with any accidents, quite frankly.
So, yeah, we haven’t told the kids about that yet, but I figured it would be easier to explain why Dad has an ice pack on his crotch later if I addressed it now.
One more funny… when the doctor asked if Tom was doing this for himself or his wife or what the deal was, Tom said that he was doing it for “us”. I think that’s probably the most apt description I’ve heard too.
PS – before anyone can tell me I’m oversharing more than I should, I asked permission before posting this news
I’m pretty lucky. My kids have always gotten along pretty well. They have their moments, but for the most part, they are really cool. This school year, we’ve put them in charge of getting their own breakfast (unless we offer to cook something – not usually!) and their own lunch. I was sitting here putting on my shoes when I heard them talking while making breakfast. It’s interesting how well they work together to get their cereal made. They choose one, Jamie gets down the bowls while Cassie finds the spoons. Then Cassie pours the cereal in and Jamie pours in the milk. Voila!
Now, if I could train them to put the milk and cereal back in the fridge/cabinet…
BUT it is really sweet how well they do together. It makes me proud to think that I actually had something to do with that, it was my superior parenting skills that have shaped my children into cooperative… oh heck… it was luck.
I absolutely must brag on my children. They both got really really good grades!
Jamie got 2 As and 3 Bs. 2 of those Bs were 89s, so just one little point away from an A. Here’s how they broke down:
Reading – 86
Written Comp – 89
Social Studies – 89
Math – 92
Science – 93
He received “satisfactory” in PE and Art and an “excellent” in music. The only “bad” grade he got was a “needs improvement” in the citizenship department because he doesn’t work well in groups and he doesn’t always pay attention (welcome to my world, teacher lady!) It’s no surprise he doesn’t do well in groups. I get annoyed when I have to work in a group too. I’m just 35 years old and have learned to grit my teeth and deal with it. *laughing*
Cassie did very excellent as well. She doesn’t get actual grades, but I don’t think I’ve seen a B come home from that child. She’s super dedicated. Her report card was all 3s and 4s with a few 2s thrown in. The only 1 she got was in technology because they hadn’t done it yet. Yeah, the kid with her own blog and has a computer in her room. Cute.
At any rate… mommy brag over. I am quite proud though!
The Tooth Fairy has been busy in our house, there are teeth falling out all over the place. It’s kinda crazy, actually. I posted about the trick the tooth fairy pulled earlier, they both lost their teeth on the same day and she brought them each half of $10 bill. Apparently, Jamie hatched a plan…
They’ve both had loose teeth for a while again. Cassie is, of course, babying hers and refusing to help it along at all. This morning Jamie’s tooth was so loose and it was poking him, so he pulled it out. No problem, no more tooth.
He just came in here and was asking me about the Tooth Fairy (he knows, yes) and then ran off demanding that Cassie pull her tooth too. Apparently he thinks the old broad is going to cough up another $5 each. *laughing* If he succeeds, she might just have to… hmmm…
He asked Cassie thought and she ran away screaming “No!!!” so I doubt he’ll get his wish.
He came in and told me what happened and then said, “Geez, mom, you’d think she’s going to keep it forever and give it a name already!” I cracked up. My little boy is getting my sarcastic sense of humor alright. LOL
Maybe the old fairy lady should leave him a $20 for spite. *laughing*
That’s it! I quit! I want off of this mommy train NOW please. First, you should know that I’m weird about germs and hygiene. I have a very high ick factor and get grossed out pretty easily. If a kid pukes and misses, Tom, who is a saint, has to deal with it. I simply cannot. Dog accidents? I’m out. So imagine my horror when my BFF called to tell me that her daycare had an outbreak of lice and her daughter (who spends about 36 hours with us each week) has them. Ewww… ewww… ewww…
Tom checked our kids, but didn’t see anything, but I (who am crazy and psychosomatic) spent most of the day scratching my head and SWEARING I could feel something crawling on my head. After dinner I decided to check the kids to be sure. Found a louse in each head (can I, again, say “Ewwww”)? And what might be a few nits in my girl’s hair. Ewwwww…
For those of you who have never had to deal with this… it could very well end a marriage. I’m not kidding. First, you have to wrangle two children, put this goop in their dry hair, let it sit for 10 minutes. Oh, that’s the easy part because then you get to rinse it out and spend an hour with a fine-toothed comb hunting in their heads for nits, dead (or dying) lice. This sounds easy, but the hair is about the consistency of dry hay. My kids were really good about sitting still, but I could not IMAGINE doing this on a smaller kid or one that hadn’t been threatened to within an inch of their lives (what? Did I say Ewwww?)
Oh, but in the meantime, you’ve washed every sheet, pillow, towel, stuffed animal, and comforter in sight. You even dig up the stuff you packed away from 2 months ago and wash it again (ummm… okay, maybe that’s just me). Can we say Ewwww? When that’s done, you have to do your own head. Oh, but not your HUSBAND who is freaking bald anyway (thus the photo). Your husband gets to do your head and you start to eye the knife block in the kitchen as he drags this “comb” through the straw that is now your hair.
It wasn’t fun. We had some stuff that couldn’t be washed, so it’s in a plastic bag in the garage so they’ll starve or whatever.
Tom didn’t find anything in my head, thank goodness. I didn’t want to take a chance though. The bad is that I had just colored my hair so it was already a little dried out, but adding the other chemicals, it was like steel wool hair. We did a deep condition too. Ugh. Cassie, we found a few nits, maybe 7 or so lice. Jamie, we only found one little louse. I’m sure more were in there that washed out or whatever, right? I don’t know how this works.
If I never ever ever get to do that again, it’ll be too soon.
Oh, wait. You’re supposed to do it ALL OVER AGAIN in seven days. Score. Not. My advice? Buy extra lice shampoo if this happens to you – and don’t count on your husband to find those little buggers!
And yes, I realize that nearly ever kid gets lice and it doesn’t mean my children are dirty or gross or anything, but… ewwwwww!!!
I’m going to get a massage tomorrow morning. I deserve it. *shudder*
There were BUGS in my child’s HAIR. Crawling around. Seriously.
I have this weird thing with Cassie (tell me I’m not the only mom that tortures her children). Any time she tells me another mom did something really cool, I ask her if that means I’m not her favorite mommy anymore, it makes her giggle. I always proclaim that the other mommy is OBVIOUSLY her favorite mommy now.
Cassie came home from the neighbor’s house on Friday with a mini pencil and a silly bandz (I hadn’t heard of them either until very recently). I was joking with her after her shower that Mrs. Neighbor was now her favorite mommy. She was giggling when I asked her who her favorite mommy was and she stopped and got really serious. I thought she was going to be mad because I was picking on her, but no. She looked me dead in the eyes and said, “No. You’re my favorite Mommy.” I asked why and she replied, her voice full of seriousness and sincerity, “Because you are MY Mommy.”
Dammit. She almost made me cry. Yes, sweetheart, I certainly am your mommy.
So, today is Valentine’s Day. Tom and I’s first date was in December of 1991 and we got married in 1993. It’s 2010. No, really. It is. I checked. Cuz… yeah.
I won’t tell the whole sorted story (no, I wasn’t pregnant, that came 7 years later) but we got married the day after I turned 18 and a few days later got on a plane and moved from South Carolina to Hawaii. How my mother didn’t smack me and tell me I was the stupidest child on the face of the planet… well… I don’t know. Obviously, it wasn’t a mistake, but I think back to how badly it could have turned out. I mean, I was a kid, he is just a few years older than me. WHAT were we thinking? Oh yeah, we were in looovvvveeee… *laugh* And yes, we were. Yes, we are. But still… I wonder…
I am the luckiest woman I know though. All these years later, and we’re still together, still in love – moreso I think, still write silly little notes (although instead of paging 143, I text it to him now and then), we still argue (never about big stuff like, always little stuff – like brands of mustard – you’d think we would have figured this out by now, right?), we still laugh, we still cry…
But I also look back over the past 17 years in awe. How much our lives have changed, how things morphed several times over the years. We went from being nearly dirt poor living in Hawaii, to being pretty well DINKs living in Hawaii, to being happily living DINKs living in Austin, to having two of the most beautiful and wonderful children in the entire world, to… well, where we are today. And everything in between. I remember his face when I told him I was pregnant (no screaming “but you were on the pill!”) the first time. I remember supporting him through the closure of his business and him supporting me through the treacherous growth of mine.
I remember my mom telling me when I was kid that I am so darn independent. She’s right, but I’m also very dependent on my husband, who really has been through everything with me. In some weird way, we kind of grew up together. I mean, I was 18, he was 21 when we got hitched. We made some really stupid mistakes, but we managed to get out of them together. We made some really wise decisions (and let me take credit for them) *laughing*
My point? I do look back all those years ago and wonder… what would be different if I hadn’t decided to get married? Would we still be together? Would we have grown apart? Can you even have a relationship that spans 6000 miles? I honestly don’t know. We were probably too immature to have made it work, if I’m being honest. I don’t regret even a second of it though. Tom is the love of my life and I don’t know what I’d do without him.
To you, Tom, thank you. Thank you for being persistent (3 months just to get a date!). Thank you for making me feel special, for making me feel like I am the most important thing in your world, and for making me laugh (gosh, I hate this part!). Thank you for sharing in our own little weird private jokes, for always being there when I need a shoulder, for always chipping in when I think I may be on my last ounce of sanity, and for always supporting my weird “yeah, let’s do this!” ideas. Thank you for picking up the slack when I drop it, for fixing things when I break them, and for laughing with me when we both screw up. Thank you for being you, for who you were, for who you are and for who you will become. I promise I’ll be right there with you for the rest of our lives.
(okay and to make a sappy post even more sappy, I thought about tacking on Have I Told You Lately That I Love You by Rod Stewart since that was closer to 1993, but Stand By Me… well, always makes me think of my hubby)
(Oh, and this is a good version of Stand By Me too. Love John Lennon’s version and this video is so well put together, check it out)
Jamie is in chess club this year and yesterday we were at the family Thanksgiving and I told him he could teach me to play (I’ve never learned)…. so he taught me – and he did a REALLY good job. I had a hard time grasping how everything moves (still do) and he was so patient and helped me when I was about to make a bad move, etc. Today, he wasn’t so nice and kicked my butt a few times. Ha! But we had a great time. He got to play with his 2nd cousin (errr, Tom’s cousin – whatever, however that works) later. And then again with his grandpa later that night, so life was good in Jamie’s world. Honestly, there’s too many variables for me, I don’t think chess will ever be my game, but I like having something to do with Jamie that keeps him still for a few minutes and doesn’t involve a video game that I cannot figure out the controls for. Board games are more my speed, I guess.
In other news, Tom and I, once again, have earned the Parents of the Year award. *takes a bow* Jamie has these weird manic episodes and we’ve loosely tied it back to red dye 40 sensitivity. I will say that I was never really on board until a few months ago and he ate like a pixi stick and a few candies or something and then went apeshit all over the place. Today, I think we have firmly tied it to it. Apparently, while I was gone to my trainer’s gym today, Jamie ate TWO strawberry fruit roll ups. We never have this stuff in the house so I didn’t think about it and buy the organic one or check the ingredients. We needed it for a cupcake project. No big deal, right? Oy. That was apparently before lunch. But I wanted to be a cool mom today and let him have Dr. Pepper with lunch. Yeah, so he kept himself in check but after dinner I think it all just built up in his system and he went completely nuts on us after dinner. Tom had to take him out to the car and stand out in the cold while he was in there yelling and acting like an insane person (because we wouldn’t buy him a webkinz or something, I don’t even remember).
Anyway, so I talked him down and told him I’d take him to spend his allowance at Target because I needed to go anyway. I also started asking him about what he had eaten because I knew it wasn’t just the Dr. Pepper. There was something else going on there.. Bingo. He told me he ate the fruit roll-ups. Honestly? It was a relief because he was making random noises and pretending to swim and shoot stuff down the aisles. He was doing good and only doing it when no one else was in the aisle, but you could tell he was completely manic, laughing and acting completely insane. When we got outside, I let him around a little in the parking lot (off to the side, mom, where he wouldn’t get run over!) and that helped a little.
I was talking to my mom about food additives lately and hormones in our meats and milk and stuff and how unnecessary it is. I mean, is it THAT important for STRAWBERRY to have added red dyes to it? Does it really need to be THAT red as compared to another shade of red. I’m assuming here there is some strawberry in there and besides, do I really care if it’s white or grey or whatever? Or hell, let’s actually start using strawberries? Shocking idea, I know. Anyway, so I’m back to checking labels again. We just totally spaced, we are so used to just not buying certain things that it didn’t even cross our minds. Oh well, I can’t be too hard on myself. At least we figured it out and now I know that he’s not being a bad kid today, he’s just on a red40 manic episode – and it really is like they are manic, it’s the only way I can describe it.
Ah well… ’til next time we screw up (hey, it’s still early tonight, let me go see what Cassie’s doing)
I had minor surgery Monday this week. It was supposed to be fast and easy, but ended up not being. I’m still in a lot of pain, but I’ve whined on FaceBook and to my friends and I’m pretty tired of hearing myself whine. But yeah, I’m not happy.
I also was going to ask the public opinion about my kid’s art, but ya know what? The kids agree with me. Each year, the school has the kids make something artistic and they put it onto magnets, mugs, and other things. I’ve always bought them and gave them away for gifts. Until this year. Last year they did this I assumed it was a fluke, but I’m NOT doing it this year. They make the kids imitate another artist and use that. For instance, Jamie took construction paper and made lines and colored in a few blocks. It’s impressionistic or whatever. I get it, but it’s not MY KID’s art. Cassie did a weird almost Andy Warholesque thing. Again. NOT my kid’s art. I’d rather get their scribbles or drawings or whatever. The first year the kids had more leeway and Jamie made the COOLEST house. He called it the “rock n roll” house. It was something they did over the course of several sessions and it was supposed to be this special thing. And HE made it.
I even put a note on the order forms as to why I’m not ordering it. I’m sorry, but I can get it cheaper somewhere else and it will be something that MY KID made, not something they were copying from some other famous artist.
The kids agreed. They think it’s ugly and didn’t want to do it. At least that’s what they are saying. So maybe this weekend, we will have our own art class and I’ll have someone on the internet make my magnets. I’m not wasting my money on crappy “kid” art this year.