The Memorial Day weekend was the first holiday I have had off since beginning my job at the VA. I need to admit, that I actually felt guilty about enjoying the long weekend, while knowing there were Vets in the hospital. Having the amazing privelege of working with them has cultivated a whole new respect for the troops, both young and old, active and retired. That being said, and guilt aside, the weekend was jam packed with all sorts of things.
The yard sale was a so/so success. I suppose we just did not have enough junk lying around to make a profit off it. Ah well. The 'Paint the house' fund became the 'clothe the children' fund, when it was realized that the little buggers keep growing. Which is absolutely inconvenient at best. The bearded man who continues to insist he resides at my house, although I am pretty sure he ran away from the local Amish community, managed to stay awake for the yard sale. He did spend about an hour-ish scraping the house this weekend, so, I am certain that, if he doesn't go back to the Amish people, the house should be ready to paint by December.
I was so relieved to have found paint colors that I absolutely thought were perfect for the house. They would look wonderful with the year round twinkle lights around the front door, the gardens and the general scheme of decorating in and around the house. Which is sort of "Antique meets daycare meets rustic meets working parents meets this looks good right here" general mishmash of things. I should have just kept it to myself. It's sort of like announcing what you plan to name your baby, before it's born. Before it's born, people generaly HATE the name. After it's born, they don't dare say a thing about the name. Within hearing distance, anyway. So, when we had a few friends over Sunday evening, I trotted the paint swatches out to my older sister. Who, in her defense, was drinking wine coolers. I have never, in the almost 36 years of knowing my older sister, ever, seen her drink. Even though she has tended bar off and on for years, she was always a staunch non-drinker. (I supose I took up the slack. I came up with a new martini this weekend, and made lots of them for the constant stream of visitors. Which reminds me. I need to run to the liqour store.) Anyhow, my sister was there, drinking wine coolers, and when I showed her the colors, she almost spewed her drink at me.
WHAT? You want to paint it THESE colors?! They are WRETCHED!!!!!! I HATE them! This looks terrible! You are usually pretty good in the decorating thing, but, these are just wretched. WRETCHED! These look more like Grasshopper pie colors. Yuck.
So, the other couple that was sitting at the dining room table were a little curious as to what I could have possibly be thinking about painting the house, to get such a strong reaction. And..... they didn't like the colors either. I am certain that, had I just painted the house, (or, rather, the Amish guy who is kicking around paints the house... I get to do the trim.) everyone would have stated it looks wonderful, and then gathered together at an undisclosed location and discussed the wretcheness of my house there. So now, I get to decide if I love the colors I had settled on enough to stick with them. I may just walk into The Home Depot, close my eyes, and randomly point at a color and take it from there at this point. We shall see.
After 2 cookouts at our house on Saturday and Sunday, washed down with Raspberry Lemon Martinis, we decided to head to Pennsylvania with the kids on Monday. There were a few places we wanted to take the kids to see, and, it's so rare that we get so much time with all 6 of us together. The road trip was narrated as such:
I hafta pee!!
Are we there yet?
There's a Federal Prison! Now I know where to visit George some day.
How fast are the winds in an f5 tornado?
I hafta pee!!
Why couldn't we bring the DVD players?
Do you guys even know where you are?
We're lost, aren't we?
HER FEET ARE BY ME!!!!
I hafta pee!!
Turn the radio on!
Turn the radio off!
I hafta pee!
I'm thirsty
PLEASE DO NOT TRY TO LOOK AT YOUR GPS ON YOUR PHONE WHILE DRIVING!!!!!
GET IN YOUR LANE!!!
Do you want me to drive?
Stop telling me how to drive! have I ever been in an accident?
How is your life insurance, because it's going to be a doozy when it happens, and I am going on a cruise with the money!!
I hafta pee!!!!
I'm hungry!
There has got to be something for headaches someplace in this vehicle.
It was a long hour and a half. We successfuly made it to all destinations in one peice, and had a really fun day. The kids never know just how educational our road trips are. I'm not a completely awful mother. I can't wait until Summer vacation, as I already am thinking up other places to take them on my days off.
The validity of the bearded man's story about belonging in our household is starting to become suspect. He flat our refuses to shave it. What are we REALLY hiding behind the orange bushy mask? This came up recently, when I attempted a little passive aggressive action.
I am thinking about cutting my hair. SHORT.
WHAT??!! You know I hate your hair short!
I hate the beard.
You look so awful with short hair!
....... what did you just say?
Well, you do!
If you were really a person who had legitimately been here for 17 years, you would TOTALY know better than to even THINK, let alone SAY, that I looked awful EVER!
I will think about trimming the beard.
UGH!!!!!!!!
Thus the battle continues. Tune in for the next installment of the beard and the paint color saga :-)
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Friday, May 24, 2013
Summer Parenting vs Winter Parenting...
The warm weather has finaly decided to make an appearance in our little neck of the woods. Followed by snow in the middle of May. Just to let us know it still hates us, and can appear at any moment, so, please do not get too comfortable. Followed once again by beautiful weather, and stories far and wide about colds and flues. As the snow machine cackles happily from around whichever corner it happens to be lurking at this time.
The only good thing I can say about winter, (Besides the forgiving nature of sweatshirts and sweaters) is the insulated closed up house, and lack of heavy sidewalk traffic. Esp at bed and bath time. Or whiney over tired evening time. Which is when I am pretty certain the neighborhood all thinks I beat my children nightly as part of the general routine if things around here.
Now that the weather is nice, and door and windows are open, so are our lives. It feels like I have the loudest kids on the street. And, with baseball and softball games and practices, in addition to school, Scouts and Tutoring, and the general fact that George does not take naps, but could really use a good 45 minute nap anyway, by evening, the children are miserable, overtired, and generaly hate each other. As evidenced by long and loud arguements in the middle of the sidewalk, front yard, and right in the front half of the house. The other day, I actually sat at the kitchen table, listening absently to George screaming, and thus Joe screaming over some thing or other on the front side walk. I heard the retired couple across the street, who had been sitting on their front porch go inside, and their front door shut. I heaved a sigh, as Kaila mentioned I should probably do something. And I have to confess, I said to her; "I think I am going to sit here for a few minutes and pretend I don't know those awful children out front. And desperately hope no one associates them with this household." "MOM!!!!" gasps Kaila, in shock. "Oh hell. Fine."
The screaming at bath times over the years, that seems to get worse once the entire neighborhood can hear, as one attempts to wash and rinse hair. It definately sounds like I am trying to drown my kids nightly. Or, the shouts of outrage over (tepid!) water of, "Are you trying to COOK me, Mom??!!!" Resounding out the front door. The arguements over dinner, as at least one of my kids refuse nightly to eat it, and the absolute loss of sanity after telling George to get back into bed after the 14th time.
We used to say prayers at bedtime. Now it's;
What are the rules?
Don't get out of bed.
Aaaaand?
Don't bug Joe.
Aaaand?
Don't take off my clothes
Aaaaand?
Don't make a lot of noise.
Ooooor?
I'm gonna be in big trouble.
After dutifuly reciting the nightly mantra, he proceeds to do precicely everything on the list anyway.
He has also managed to lock the babysitter out on purpose, inform an elderly lady in church (loudly, during a quiet part), that the church was going to explode, and block the Post Office driveway, all in one week.
The other day, I was sure I had lost him, and the new neighbors who are in the process of moving in next door were outside. I was trying sooo hard to be casual, as I looked for him, while thinking that he absolutely needed to be found ASAP, as my house was definately not clean enough for a CPS inspection.
George! Geeeeooorgieee, come out come out wherever you are! Oh, hello neighbor! George, oh George! I give up, you can come out now! How is your move coming along, new neighbor, hahaha? George! Where oh where could he be!! hahah.... settling in well, new neighbor? GEORGE!!!!! hahaha... the little darling really found a good spot.... heh heh....ohhhh, Georgie! Candy! Chocolate! COME OUT!!! hahahaha! Soooo, did you paint everything you had to paint yet?
OMG. This parenting thing is so much easier in the winter, when I can contain them.
This coming weekend should be a true test of tolerance in general. I have decided we must absolutely have a yard sale this weekend. It is partly to start the 'paint the house' fund, and to get rid of some of the clutter that I decided awhile back absolutely needed to be purged from my home. And, this is to take place tomorrow morning. I am at work now (on break, of course...), and NOTHING is ready for this sale. I had a day off, and planned to get ready then, but ended up having to work an unexpected overnight shift, and was not only not up to it, but, the world's worst mother that day. Cumulating in Joe getting sick and vomiting all over my truck, and myself using true trucker language as I hauled him out of my vehicle and tried to make sure he was okay, as I yelled at him for being the only child who consistantly vomits in my vehicle (and no one else's) unexpectedly and at least twice a year. The thought was in the back of my head the entire time, that Lexi's First Reconciliation is this weekend (Also on yard sale day, at 9:00AM. Also not ready for that....), and that my language that evening definately will land me in the confessional.
Tomorrow morning will be a mad dash to chuck everything out the front door in the pre dawn hours, to set up for a yard sale, while getting kids ready for church, and explaining to the bearded guy that continues to insist lives with us as husband/father, but probably is a random hobo in need of a home, that he needs to stay present and awake for the sale while we are gone.
The only thing getting me through this, is the thought of a friend and her family coming over later that evening, so she can test out a new martini I thought up and want to try. I swear I am not nearly the alcoholic my social media constantly implies I am. Or my family. Yesterday, Geroge so thoughtfuly was up at 5:30 AM, offering me Captain Morgan to go with my toast, for my drive to work. "It's your favorite, Mama!"
Anyhow, If nothing else, I have the next 4 days off, that are going to be jam packed with friends and family, and gratefulness that I have the most amazing of both of those, and the honor of taking care of the Vets that made it all possible, with the most wonderful job on the planet. We will begin enjoying it as soon as the snow that is currently coming down, melts.
The only good thing I can say about winter, (Besides the forgiving nature of sweatshirts and sweaters) is the insulated closed up house, and lack of heavy sidewalk traffic. Esp at bed and bath time. Or whiney over tired evening time. Which is when I am pretty certain the neighborhood all thinks I beat my children nightly as part of the general routine if things around here.
Now that the weather is nice, and door and windows are open, so are our lives. It feels like I have the loudest kids on the street. And, with baseball and softball games and practices, in addition to school, Scouts and Tutoring, and the general fact that George does not take naps, but could really use a good 45 minute nap anyway, by evening, the children are miserable, overtired, and generaly hate each other. As evidenced by long and loud arguements in the middle of the sidewalk, front yard, and right in the front half of the house. The other day, I actually sat at the kitchen table, listening absently to George screaming, and thus Joe screaming over some thing or other on the front side walk. I heard the retired couple across the street, who had been sitting on their front porch go inside, and their front door shut. I heaved a sigh, as Kaila mentioned I should probably do something. And I have to confess, I said to her; "I think I am going to sit here for a few minutes and pretend I don't know those awful children out front. And desperately hope no one associates them with this household." "MOM!!!!" gasps Kaila, in shock. "Oh hell. Fine."
The screaming at bath times over the years, that seems to get worse once the entire neighborhood can hear, as one attempts to wash and rinse hair. It definately sounds like I am trying to drown my kids nightly. Or, the shouts of outrage over (tepid!) water of, "Are you trying to COOK me, Mom??!!!" Resounding out the front door. The arguements over dinner, as at least one of my kids refuse nightly to eat it, and the absolute loss of sanity after telling George to get back into bed after the 14th time.
We used to say prayers at bedtime. Now it's;
What are the rules?
Don't get out of bed.
Aaaaand?
Don't bug Joe.
Aaaand?
Don't take off my clothes
Aaaaand?
Don't make a lot of noise.
Ooooor?
I'm gonna be in big trouble.
After dutifuly reciting the nightly mantra, he proceeds to do precicely everything on the list anyway.
He has also managed to lock the babysitter out on purpose, inform an elderly lady in church (loudly, during a quiet part), that the church was going to explode, and block the Post Office driveway, all in one week.
The other day, I was sure I had lost him, and the new neighbors who are in the process of moving in next door were outside. I was trying sooo hard to be casual, as I looked for him, while thinking that he absolutely needed to be found ASAP, as my house was definately not clean enough for a CPS inspection.
George! Geeeeooorgieee, come out come out wherever you are! Oh, hello neighbor! George, oh George! I give up, you can come out now! How is your move coming along, new neighbor, hahaha? George! Where oh where could he be!! hahah.... settling in well, new neighbor? GEORGE!!!!! hahaha... the little darling really found a good spot.... heh heh....ohhhh, Georgie! Candy! Chocolate! COME OUT!!! hahahaha! Soooo, did you paint everything you had to paint yet?
OMG. This parenting thing is so much easier in the winter, when I can contain them.
This coming weekend should be a true test of tolerance in general. I have decided we must absolutely have a yard sale this weekend. It is partly to start the 'paint the house' fund, and to get rid of some of the clutter that I decided awhile back absolutely needed to be purged from my home. And, this is to take place tomorrow morning. I am at work now (on break, of course...), and NOTHING is ready for this sale. I had a day off, and planned to get ready then, but ended up having to work an unexpected overnight shift, and was not only not up to it, but, the world's worst mother that day. Cumulating in Joe getting sick and vomiting all over my truck, and myself using true trucker language as I hauled him out of my vehicle and tried to make sure he was okay, as I yelled at him for being the only child who consistantly vomits in my vehicle (and no one else's) unexpectedly and at least twice a year. The thought was in the back of my head the entire time, that Lexi's First Reconciliation is this weekend (Also on yard sale day, at 9:00AM. Also not ready for that....), and that my language that evening definately will land me in the confessional.
Tomorrow morning will be a mad dash to chuck everything out the front door in the pre dawn hours, to set up for a yard sale, while getting kids ready for church, and explaining to the bearded guy that continues to insist lives with us as husband/father, but probably is a random hobo in need of a home, that he needs to stay present and awake for the sale while we are gone.
The only thing getting me through this, is the thought of a friend and her family coming over later that evening, so she can test out a new martini I thought up and want to try. I swear I am not nearly the alcoholic my social media constantly implies I am. Or my family. Yesterday, Geroge so thoughtfuly was up at 5:30 AM, offering me Captain Morgan to go with my toast, for my drive to work. "It's your favorite, Mama!"
Anyhow, If nothing else, I have the next 4 days off, that are going to be jam packed with friends and family, and gratefulness that I have the most amazing of both of those, and the honor of taking care of the Vets that made it all possible, with the most wonderful job on the planet. We will begin enjoying it as soon as the snow that is currently coming down, melts.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
May I Have This Dance?
The kids' school has been fundraising for a new play ground. And, one of the fund raisers was a Mother Son Dance, that took place last night. I thought this was such a sweet idea, and immediately decided to try and get off of work, or out early, to attend this with Joe. I also decided to buy him a rose to wear on his vest. This was going to be so sweet! So, $5.00 for the ticket, and we were good to go.
I didn't have anything to wear, so, there was an additional $50.00 for a dress. After presenting my boss with a detailed note as to why I wanted the day off, and staffing numbers for the day; she said I still needed to come in and work 4 hours. Okay. So, I ordered Joe's flower for pickup on my way home.
Arrive at work yesterday morning, and, We are over staffed! So, I have awesome co-workers who voted to let me go home. $25.00 in gas.
Remember that I have no dress shoes, and grab a pair in the right size that look about right, in the store at work, on my way out the door. $20.00
Go home, and, a few hours later, double back 18 miles, to get Joe's flower. Take George, who is reminded and begged, to please go potty before we leave. Nope. Doesn't have to go. Get 3/4 of the way there; guess who is crying and begging to pee RIGHT NOW!!!! Of course.
Swing into my friend, Becky's house, and go running through her door, pushing George ahead of me, yelling, "Sorry Beck! He's gotta pee!!!" On my way through. Becky is my best friend since I was 18, and, even though I haven't actually seen her in the better part of a year, she stepped aside in total understanding. She's awesome that way.
Stay to visit, because, we were there, and had the time, and it's always fun. Suddenly realize we need to leave this minute, or we will be late picking the kids up from school. And discover that my glasses are gone. Gone, gone. As in, nowhere. As in, this is catastrophic. As in, I have to drive to Buffalo for the next three days, and work 12.5 hour shifts, and I CANNOT not have my glasses. This is not okay. But, I need to go, and cannot look for them any longer. Tear my purse, truck and nursing bag apart; no glasses. Call the eye glass place in a panic, and describe my predicament. They are able to fit me in at 4:45. The dance is at 5:30. Okay. We can do this. Round trip gas money? $10.00
Back to Franklinville, pick up the kids, rush home, get into full evening gear, don dress, and realize; I have a farmer's tan. And a strappy shoulder gown. And I look alltogether ridiculous. And this dress looked way better in the flattering lights of the store. Oh no. Now what do I do?? I don't have time for anything else. So, I decide to roll with it, and head down to do hair and makeup and all that. Put together, I tell Joe to get ready to get in the truck, realize it's pouring rain, and grab my umbrella. Put on the shoes that I had just bought that morning and realize they are the highest heels I have ever owned. I mean, these things were HIGH. And, my feet were at an angle normaly achieved only by ballarenas after years of training. Completely vertical. I wear sneakers, or I am barefoot. I rarely do heels. I absolutely do not ever wear heels that make me look like I am walking en pointe. OMG!!!! What am I going to DO??? What CAN I do? I need to get to the eye doctor's. So, tippy toeing out the doorin these shoes, thru the rain we go, lurching and clutching onto whatever I can find, while trying to pretend I am completely confident, and in complete control of the situation, and walk on heels way higher than this every day. In my head, I was sure it looked like I owned those heels, with a confident swagger. In reality, I probably resembled a drunken zoo animal with silly tan lines.
Arrive at the eye doctor, in full evening wear, tottering in while desperately trying not to be obvious, while I looked for things to grab as I walked. Present my new insrance card, and get called to the side. That is NEVER a good thing.
Good news and bad news, Moriah.
Hell.
You have amazing insurance! Covers EVERYTHING! Designer frames, lenses, all the bells and whistles.
But?
We cannot make them here. It will take 7-10 days.
NO!!!!
BUT! We can cut you a great deal on glasses that can be ready tomorrow!
UGH. How much?
Only $164.99!
Okay. I will take them both. I am always losing glasses.
Yes, pipes in Joe, She is literaly always losing her glasses. You need to sell her a special case for them. And maybe a chain, to wear around her neck. You need to sell her everything you have, literaly, or, she will just keep losing her glasses.
Your mom is a loser, huh? Always losing stuff? Sympathizes the glasses seller.
Yes. Literaly.
What about contacts? She asks me
I just cannot make myself put my fingers in my eyes. I tried a few years ago. It was pretty traumatic. I need glasses.
So. It was decided I needed a stronger prescription, and the specticals were ordered, and my poor over used bank card was swiped once again.
And, it was another $10.00 in gas.
Mom, this IS a date, right?
Yes, Joe.
Don't you think we should do dinner then? I was thinking Burger King...
Another $10.00
Off to the dance.
Run through the rain, get inside, and line up to have our picture taken. And, it's our turn. And the photograper bagan to look worried.
Ummmm. Okay. Maybe we can have joe sit on a stool in front of you? Hmmm. No, no. Try kneeling, Joe. No. nnnnno. Ummm. Okay. Well. Let's try to get a chair for mom...
It's the silly shoes, isn't it? I can take them off...
No no. Here. Sit. Oh God. Well. Hmmm. Ummmmm. Okay. Joe, you sit here, on the stool next to Mom.
Oh no. Do I really look THAT bad?? (No one else had these problems. No one.)
No no, of course.....not. Ummm. Okay. Well. Hmmm. Okay, lets just keep taking puctures.... Joe. Please stop moving. Okay. OH MY GOD! Oh. Wow. Well. We can just keep taking pictures, but.......
Wow. These are just awful. Hmmm. I just don't know what to do. I never ever photo shop, and don't know how to, but, I will find someone, and we will just try to find a good one of you, and one where Joe is not moving, and try and put them together... I just. Wow. I just don't know what else to do..... Ummm.
Oh for heaven's sake. Do what you can, or skip it all together. I'm good either way. I say, and hop up, trying to ignore that line of curious mothers, and feeling completely awful looking. This day just needs to end. I need to find a fairy God Mother. I need to go home and see if there is any cooking wine left. I never ever take good pictures. Ever.
Joe spent a good portion of the dance in the corner eating candy, looking uncomfortable. The rose didn't last long, before the pins were poking him, so, that came off. About half an hour before it all ended, he relaxed, and started to have fun. He even slow danced with me TWICE. And I tried so hard, to ignore all the cameras flashing at us. I cannot even think about where those pictures may end up. I really cannot. I looked that awful.
The Grand Total for the day?
$294.99
Trying not to cry, while dancing with the cutest almost 8 year old ever, while "Don't Ever Grow Up" played, as he informed me I was the most Beautiful Mom ever? Absolutely Priceless.
I didn't have anything to wear, so, there was an additional $50.00 for a dress. After presenting my boss with a detailed note as to why I wanted the day off, and staffing numbers for the day; she said I still needed to come in and work 4 hours. Okay. So, I ordered Joe's flower for pickup on my way home.
Arrive at work yesterday morning, and, We are over staffed! So, I have awesome co-workers who voted to let me go home. $25.00 in gas.
Remember that I have no dress shoes, and grab a pair in the right size that look about right, in the store at work, on my way out the door. $20.00
Go home, and, a few hours later, double back 18 miles, to get Joe's flower. Take George, who is reminded and begged, to please go potty before we leave. Nope. Doesn't have to go. Get 3/4 of the way there; guess who is crying and begging to pee RIGHT NOW!!!! Of course.
Swing into my friend, Becky's house, and go running through her door, pushing George ahead of me, yelling, "Sorry Beck! He's gotta pee!!!" On my way through. Becky is my best friend since I was 18, and, even though I haven't actually seen her in the better part of a year, she stepped aside in total understanding. She's awesome that way.
Stay to visit, because, we were there, and had the time, and it's always fun. Suddenly realize we need to leave this minute, or we will be late picking the kids up from school. And discover that my glasses are gone. Gone, gone. As in, nowhere. As in, this is catastrophic. As in, I have to drive to Buffalo for the next three days, and work 12.5 hour shifts, and I CANNOT not have my glasses. This is not okay. But, I need to go, and cannot look for them any longer. Tear my purse, truck and nursing bag apart; no glasses. Call the eye glass place in a panic, and describe my predicament. They are able to fit me in at 4:45. The dance is at 5:30. Okay. We can do this. Round trip gas money? $10.00
Back to Franklinville, pick up the kids, rush home, get into full evening gear, don dress, and realize; I have a farmer's tan. And a strappy shoulder gown. And I look alltogether ridiculous. And this dress looked way better in the flattering lights of the store. Oh no. Now what do I do?? I don't have time for anything else. So, I decide to roll with it, and head down to do hair and makeup and all that. Put together, I tell Joe to get ready to get in the truck, realize it's pouring rain, and grab my umbrella. Put on the shoes that I had just bought that morning and realize they are the highest heels I have ever owned. I mean, these things were HIGH. And, my feet were at an angle normaly achieved only by ballarenas after years of training. Completely vertical. I wear sneakers, or I am barefoot. I rarely do heels. I absolutely do not ever wear heels that make me look like I am walking en pointe. OMG!!!! What am I going to DO??? What CAN I do? I need to get to the eye doctor's. So, tippy toeing out the doorin these shoes, thru the rain we go, lurching and clutching onto whatever I can find, while trying to pretend I am completely confident, and in complete control of the situation, and walk on heels way higher than this every day. In my head, I was sure it looked like I owned those heels, with a confident swagger. In reality, I probably resembled a drunken zoo animal with silly tan lines.
Arrive at the eye doctor, in full evening wear, tottering in while desperately trying not to be obvious, while I looked for things to grab as I walked. Present my new insrance card, and get called to the side. That is NEVER a good thing.
Good news and bad news, Moriah.
Hell.
You have amazing insurance! Covers EVERYTHING! Designer frames, lenses, all the bells and whistles.
But?
We cannot make them here. It will take 7-10 days.
NO!!!!
BUT! We can cut you a great deal on glasses that can be ready tomorrow!
UGH. How much?
Only $164.99!
Okay. I will take them both. I am always losing glasses.
Yes, pipes in Joe, She is literaly always losing her glasses. You need to sell her a special case for them. And maybe a chain, to wear around her neck. You need to sell her everything you have, literaly, or, she will just keep losing her glasses.
Your mom is a loser, huh? Always losing stuff? Sympathizes the glasses seller.
Yes. Literaly.
What about contacts? She asks me
I just cannot make myself put my fingers in my eyes. I tried a few years ago. It was pretty traumatic. I need glasses.
So. It was decided I needed a stronger prescription, and the specticals were ordered, and my poor over used bank card was swiped once again.
And, it was another $10.00 in gas.
Mom, this IS a date, right?
Yes, Joe.
Don't you think we should do dinner then? I was thinking Burger King...
Another $10.00
Off to the dance.
Run through the rain, get inside, and line up to have our picture taken. And, it's our turn. And the photograper bagan to look worried.
Ummmm. Okay. Maybe we can have joe sit on a stool in front of you? Hmmm. No, no. Try kneeling, Joe. No. nnnnno. Ummm. Okay. Well. Let's try to get a chair for mom...
It's the silly shoes, isn't it? I can take them off...
No no. Here. Sit. Oh God. Well. Hmmm. Ummmmm. Okay. Joe, you sit here, on the stool next to Mom.
Oh no. Do I really look THAT bad?? (No one else had these problems. No one.)
No no, of course.....not. Ummm. Okay. Well. Hmmm. Okay, lets just keep taking puctures.... Joe. Please stop moving. Okay. OH MY GOD! Oh. Wow. Well. We can just keep taking pictures, but.......
Wow. These are just awful. Hmmm. I just don't know what to do. I never ever photo shop, and don't know how to, but, I will find someone, and we will just try to find a good one of you, and one where Joe is not moving, and try and put them together... I just. Wow. I just don't know what else to do..... Ummm.
Oh for heaven's sake. Do what you can, or skip it all together. I'm good either way. I say, and hop up, trying to ignore that line of curious mothers, and feeling completely awful looking. This day just needs to end. I need to find a fairy God Mother. I need to go home and see if there is any cooking wine left. I never ever take good pictures. Ever.
Joe spent a good portion of the dance in the corner eating candy, looking uncomfortable. The rose didn't last long, before the pins were poking him, so, that came off. About half an hour before it all ended, he relaxed, and started to have fun. He even slow danced with me TWICE. And I tried so hard, to ignore all the cameras flashing at us. I cannot even think about where those pictures may end up. I really cannot. I looked that awful.
The Grand Total for the day?
$294.99
Trying not to cry, while dancing with the cutest almost 8 year old ever, while "Don't Ever Grow Up" played, as he informed me I was the most Beautiful Mom ever? Absolutely Priceless.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Small Town Baseball Season.
Baseball/Softball season has struck once again. When signing Kaila and Joe up, the vague thought was in the back of my head that, I am one person, with two kids on two different teams, and I work very far away, and on those days I work, I am not home untill after they go to bed. How did I plan on getting these children to where they need to be? I figured I would address the issue when it came up.
I have come to realize, with our work schedules, that I live the life of a single Mom, without actually being single. Not sure how I feel about that? I rarely see this person whom, according to pictures and documentaion, I married almost 15 years ago. Last I knew, he had somewhere along the way, grown a rather bushy and large red beard. I'm not sure when that happened. One day, we happened to be home at the same time, and I hardly recognized this person on my porch. Does one let strange bearded men, who look like they just survived the last 4 years lost in the wilderness, enter one's home, just because they claim to be the Father of your children? He looks like a misplaced leprachaun, this man who insists he resides at the same address. I am only slightly aware that sometimes, in the middle of the night, some person with perpetualy cold feet, crawls into bed, shortly before I crawl out of it. But seriously, if whomever it is, is not otherwise requiring my immediate attention; I don't normaly care. It could be the Boogy Man, and, if he wasn't bothering me; he may rest there undisturbed by this writer. I take sleep when I can get it, these days.
Anyhow, back on track, it's just the kids and me. And it's baseball season. And, we're managing. And, being a small town, there are always amazing people out there, who are willing and able to let your kid ride along with them, when the parents of the year here, are unable to make games or practices. Those games and practices that I am always completely unprepared for.
Every other Mom there always comes armed with bug spray, sun block, drinks, snacks, and toys for the younger siblings. They remember folding chairs, blankets and extra jackets. I am the mom that sits freezing on the bleachers telling my frozen children that they are only cold because they are not running enough. And that no child ever died from dehydration with only an hour without water in 70 degree weather. Well. Maybe 70 degrees. No matter what the tempurature is at home, it is always at least 50 degrees hotter or colder than it is anywhere else. There is no point in preparing. If the thermometer reads 75, it will probably be 35 with whipping winds, down at the baseball fields. Or 110 with 100% humidity. I rock at this whole parenting thing. I promised Lexi $30.00 at the end of ball season, if she would watch George at all games and practices, and take him to playgrounds at whatever park we end up at. Actually, I told her $20.00, but, she pointed out that there are TWO kids on ball teams, and therefore, she wanted $40.00. We settled on $30.00. Gotta respect the thought process there.
No matter what the work schedules, the kids seem to have adjusted to them very well. As evidenced by the pre-dawn conversation yesterday:
MOM! ARE YOU HOME??
Yes George. Stop yelling, you're going to wake everybody up.
(Head appears at my bedside.)
I didn't miss you when you were at work. And I don't like kisses.
Go back to bed, George.
I'm starving, I don't think I feel good, I have to go potty, you need to feed me. Time to get up.
I should kiss you.
Yuck. I hate kisses.
I know.
Get up!
Can I beat you, then?
No. I changed my name to Joe. And my butt is all gone. It fell off last night.
Oh good! I needed to beat Joe today anyway. May as well get it out of the way. C'mere.
My name is George. And I missed you so much, and I love kisses. Can you pleeeaaaaase get up with me?
I suppose so.
Glad to know they are not pining away for their Mother.
In other news, we (by "we", I mean that guy with the red beard who keeps insisting he lives with us. May as well make himself usefull, right?) have been scraping the house. It needs to be re-painted this summer. This is something we knew needed to be done, and have been juggling possible paint colors for some time now. The choice at the time of this decision was painting the house red, with black trim, and a butter colored front door. Oh my goodness. Some people loved the idea, and some absolutely hated it. I began to have self doubts. What if we painted it red, and it started to fade, like a barn? What if we hated it? What if it looked dumb? What if, what if, what if?? So, I started to look at other colors. Jasin liked blue. But, we live next to a blue house. There was this color called "Quail" I liked, but, how boring! Kaila and I found this nice sage green, with eggplant trim, but, again, what if it looked awful? And, over the years, the house has been painted lots of times. And, it always seems to end up some shade of green. I almost think the house WANTS to be green. Do I really want to make it mad? I've read the occasional horror story, and seen the occasional horror movie. One does not anger one's house. Kind of throws a whole new dimention in there, doesn't it? (Good Catholic girl that I am. My Mother would smack me silly if she read that. Thank goodness she does not read my Blog.) The internet was NO help. Every other thing I read contradicted every other thing written. A friend told me it cannot be a light color; those attract bugs. And look dirty. I dream in paint swatches currently. And, in the back of my head, I keep in mind the perpetual twinkle lights around my front door. Would the color look good with twinkle lights and the black eyed susans in the front garden? Would the color look good with Christmas lights? At this point, I cannot wait to see what color it ends up. I'm pretty sure the bearded guy isn't going to re-paint it if I hate it, so, here's hoping it looks good!
I have come to realize, with our work schedules, that I live the life of a single Mom, without actually being single. Not sure how I feel about that? I rarely see this person whom, according to pictures and documentaion, I married almost 15 years ago. Last I knew, he had somewhere along the way, grown a rather bushy and large red beard. I'm not sure when that happened. One day, we happened to be home at the same time, and I hardly recognized this person on my porch. Does one let strange bearded men, who look like they just survived the last 4 years lost in the wilderness, enter one's home, just because they claim to be the Father of your children? He looks like a misplaced leprachaun, this man who insists he resides at the same address. I am only slightly aware that sometimes, in the middle of the night, some person with perpetualy cold feet, crawls into bed, shortly before I crawl out of it. But seriously, if whomever it is, is not otherwise requiring my immediate attention; I don't normaly care. It could be the Boogy Man, and, if he wasn't bothering me; he may rest there undisturbed by this writer. I take sleep when I can get it, these days.
Anyhow, back on track, it's just the kids and me. And it's baseball season. And, we're managing. And, being a small town, there are always amazing people out there, who are willing and able to let your kid ride along with them, when the parents of the year here, are unable to make games or practices. Those games and practices that I am always completely unprepared for.
Every other Mom there always comes armed with bug spray, sun block, drinks, snacks, and toys for the younger siblings. They remember folding chairs, blankets and extra jackets. I am the mom that sits freezing on the bleachers telling my frozen children that they are only cold because they are not running enough. And that no child ever died from dehydration with only an hour without water in 70 degree weather. Well. Maybe 70 degrees. No matter what the tempurature is at home, it is always at least 50 degrees hotter or colder than it is anywhere else. There is no point in preparing. If the thermometer reads 75, it will probably be 35 with whipping winds, down at the baseball fields. Or 110 with 100% humidity. I rock at this whole parenting thing. I promised Lexi $30.00 at the end of ball season, if she would watch George at all games and practices, and take him to playgrounds at whatever park we end up at. Actually, I told her $20.00, but, she pointed out that there are TWO kids on ball teams, and therefore, she wanted $40.00. We settled on $30.00. Gotta respect the thought process there.
No matter what the work schedules, the kids seem to have adjusted to them very well. As evidenced by the pre-dawn conversation yesterday:
MOM! ARE YOU HOME??
Yes George. Stop yelling, you're going to wake everybody up.
(Head appears at my bedside.)
I didn't miss you when you were at work. And I don't like kisses.
Go back to bed, George.
I'm starving, I don't think I feel good, I have to go potty, you need to feed me. Time to get up.
I should kiss you.
Yuck. I hate kisses.
I know.
Get up!
Can I beat you, then?
No. I changed my name to Joe. And my butt is all gone. It fell off last night.
Oh good! I needed to beat Joe today anyway. May as well get it out of the way. C'mere.
My name is George. And I missed you so much, and I love kisses. Can you pleeeaaaaase get up with me?
I suppose so.
Glad to know they are not pining away for their Mother.
In other news, we (by "we", I mean that guy with the red beard who keeps insisting he lives with us. May as well make himself usefull, right?) have been scraping the house. It needs to be re-painted this summer. This is something we knew needed to be done, and have been juggling possible paint colors for some time now. The choice at the time of this decision was painting the house red, with black trim, and a butter colored front door. Oh my goodness. Some people loved the idea, and some absolutely hated it. I began to have self doubts. What if we painted it red, and it started to fade, like a barn? What if we hated it? What if it looked dumb? What if, what if, what if?? So, I started to look at other colors. Jasin liked blue. But, we live next to a blue house. There was this color called "Quail" I liked, but, how boring! Kaila and I found this nice sage green, with eggplant trim, but, again, what if it looked awful? And, over the years, the house has been painted lots of times. And, it always seems to end up some shade of green. I almost think the house WANTS to be green. Do I really want to make it mad? I've read the occasional horror story, and seen the occasional horror movie. One does not anger one's house. Kind of throws a whole new dimention in there, doesn't it? (Good Catholic girl that I am. My Mother would smack me silly if she read that. Thank goodness she does not read my Blog.) The internet was NO help. Every other thing I read contradicted every other thing written. A friend told me it cannot be a light color; those attract bugs. And look dirty. I dream in paint swatches currently. And, in the back of my head, I keep in mind the perpetual twinkle lights around my front door. Would the color look good with twinkle lights and the black eyed susans in the front garden? Would the color look good with Christmas lights? At this point, I cannot wait to see what color it ends up. I'm pretty sure the bearded guy isn't going to re-paint it if I hate it, so, here's hoping it looks good!
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