The Devil Made Me Do It!

     Chores. Unless one has a Housekeeper, Maid staff, Grounds Crew and Butler, one has to do chores.

     Nod your head right now, if you are a Mom, and you fill all of those titles.

     With school out for the summer, my children have been informed that they will NOT be spending it sprawled across the couches watching TV or playing on the iPad and wearing their pajamas all day. While eating nothing of nutritional value and throwing the wrappers, containers and dishes on the floors surrounding them.
     Sound disgusting? Welcome to my world. Because, that is what tends to happen in my house. My children were genuinely upset that they would not get to spend their summer thusly.

     The kids have been gradually conditioned into chores. Now that Mama is only working one job, and is home to supervise more, the kids have been called into service. Bearded Man mostly escapes to the neighbor's, with a can of beer, or takes a nap, to avoid the travesty of chores. Seriously though. This Mom is tired. Also, this Mom does not want to be mentally cussed out by my children's future bosses and/or spouses, because they are useless and have zero self care skills. Also, everyone is fully capable of helping out, and for the Love of the Dear Lord and all His little children, WHY are wives and Mothers expected to do EVERYTHING? Anyhow, my kids have been given chores to do.

     Recently, around Mother's Day, there was a "thing" going around, where kids were asked to say something their Mother says. Over dinner, I asked my kids. Oh boy. I shouldn't have.

     "I have to do EVERYTHING!"

     "Seriously, this house is a DISGUSTING MESS!!!"

     "DO THE DISHES!!!!"

     "You kids are NOT living here forever!"

     "I DON'T CARE IF YOU WILL HAVE A BUTLER - WHAT IF HE QUITS??"

     "...then, STARVE, JOE!!!"

     Then, a friend of mine posted this thing on Facebook that indicated that all these things mean that the devil is trying to make you a bad mother, and is laughing in the corner, and is a clean house REALLY worth all this stress?

     Yes. I cannot function without at least a pathway, clean clothing, and counter space. I just. CAN'T. Now there is the guilt that I am letting the Devil get away with it.

     Week one: My kids have really kept up with their chores! I am so happy. Because, week one: Mama has a cold. Or something. But, whatever it is, is miserable, and honest to goodness, we go thru this every 4 months. I go the doctor, they hand me a prescription for a sinus infection, and I go on my merry way for another few months.
     Whatever this is though, means business. So, now, I have no voice, on top of feeling like this whole being alive thing is extremely temporary.

     Which means nothing to no one, except, remember all those fun "MOVE" Things I have begun, committed to, signed up for, paid for? They don't go away. The Step Challenge at work is still in full force. And I have done minimal stepping.
 
     The 5ks are still there and waiting for me, and the Adirondacks have yet to evolve into nice do-able little hills. So, I am pretty sure that conditioning or no conditioning, I am still going to have to climb them in October. Because I have announced to EVERYBODY that I will. (If we could all pray for pouring rain in the ADK for Columbus Day weekend, that would be GREAT.)

     Anyhow, last night was the Corporate Challenge in the town that I work. 800 or so of the employees of local businesses turned out to traipse all over Olean for a Good Cause. I am so sorry. I have  honestly no idea what the cause was. I DO know that some people had signed up to see who could donate the most cereal, so maybe for hungry people? I don't know. But, I am sure it was a Good Cause.
     For our $22. entry fee, we were issued a white tee shirt, a map, and after the race, two beers and a sandwich.
     Also, as I donned my white tee shirt unenthusiastically after work, I noted that it was supposed to rain. My Facebook post wondered "White tee shirt in the rain with co-workers. What could go wrong?" Normally, I am all about these races. I LOVE them. They are fun and social and I am really adding to the 5k tee shirt collection. It's become this weird obsession.

     Yesterday though, I just wanted to go to bed. I did not want to walk. Trot, stroll, traipse, run, jog, meander, crawl or drag myself ANYWHERE. But, since I had started this whole Step thing at work, and this was a spin off of it, I sort of needed to smile and show up.

     There were people everywhere. People wearing honest to goodness workout clothes, who totally meant business. Complicated stretches, intense faces, jogging in place, breathing exercises that were reminiscent of labor breathing, bending, twisting, and lycra covered bottoms up in the air doing various contortions everywhere I looked. I leaned against a tree and watched people that looked like Cirque Du Soliel hopefuls twisting and bending and knotting up, and wondered if my cynical self had ever seen this at other races, or, if the people of Olean NY are just more conscientious about pulled muscles than the rest of NY. It was seriously impressive.

      Anyhow, the race began. The VA clinic was part of the "Walkers" group, and we walked the route at this side of a sprint. The lady that led us was all business, as she marched ahead of the crowd, and we gasped along behind her. Olean was a blur, but, we made pretty good time, and hung out for an hour after, visiting and people watching. And then I went home, took one of every cold related medicine I owned, and went to bed. Thankful that it did not pour while I was wearing a white tee shirt, and vowing to design something darker and more upbeat for shirts for next year's race. Because I will presumably be alive and more excited about it next year. Also, I need to learn how to stretch, evidently. And not be self conscious about it AT ALL. Or feel inadequate that I cannot contort into some of those stretches.

     Also, I think I promised the Zumba teacher I would come back and resume Zumba. Reading these blogs and about all this exercise, you would think I would be a svelte size 6. I am not. But, I sort of signed up for a Girl's trip to the Jersey Shore Labor Day weekend, with some co -workers. Where I will meet my cousin for the first time EVER, and whose home we will be invading for 3 days. (She INVITED us, when she found out we were heading that way. This will either be the most fun weekend EVER, or, awkward as anything.) Anyhow, we will be at the Jersey Shore, and plan on drinking Mimosas around dawn as we contemplate the ocean. (One of the girls suggested Pina Colodas, but, I had to tell her that that makes you an alcoholic. One does not drink Pina Coloadas at dawn. One drinks MIMOSAS, and then it's respectable.) Also, since I now own this minivan, I offered to drive us all there. As of yet, I have absolutely no idea where "There" is, but, we are going there. And now I need to step up the whole workout game again.

    

     In closing, I am excited to announce that I will NOT be cooking anything that is alive, or has dead eyes to stare back at me for the Fourth of July this year. My friend, Sue, who was all about the lobster (fiasco) of last year, had wanted to do a suckling pig this year. By,  "wanted to do" meaning, "Moriah heads out to buy one and then figures out how to cook it, while sobbing over the dead accusing eyes staring back at her, and then starves for the nest 2 guilt ridden traumatic days" Anyhow, Sue has announced that they have unavoidable plans (which I'm willing to bet do NOT involve cooking live or baby animals that stare at her) and cannot make it to our house this year. Thus: we are doing the  usual hot dogs and burgers and a smoked turkey breast.
     Smoked, because Santa, God Bless Him, brought Bearded Man a smoker for Christmas last year. Bearded Man has requested that he smoke this year's Thanksgiving turkey. Mama here was trying to find a nice way to say "OH, HELL NO!!!!!!!" but, was all nice and mentioned that he hasn't really had much practice with the smoker, and are you sure you want to be responsible for such a big holiday dinner....? (AKA, I learned that I don't like smoked foods, sooooo......) So, this was mentioned to our friends Wendy and Greg, they nicely donated a turkey breast for him to practice with. Not knowing that I can't deal with a smoked Thanksgiving turkey.
   
     I think this entire post has indicated that I am not a nice person AT. ALL. On top of that, I recently learned the Devil is in my house, making me crazy about keeping it clean, and telling the kids to get it done. Great. Another reason I am going to Hell.

     Till next time!

    

Batman Does Not Fly

     Over the past year or so, every time I have seen a little girl in a pretty sun dress, looked at displays of toddler hair bows, and seen the tutus, princess dresses, tea sets and all things little girl, I have mourned a little bit for the days of little girls.

     I have also become completely aggravated at people who look at my sympathetically and say "Ugh. You have girls. I am so sorry. Boys are easier." (An aside here: I have entirely MORE drama with my boys, than I ever have with my girls thus far.)

     Two weekends ago, I stopped missing the days of tiny girls in sun dresses with fancy hair bows, and realized that I have two of the most fun young ladies EVER. And, I enjoy every second with them.
     While the days of adorable little girl accessories are gone, so are the days of packing: The stroller, diapers, diaper bag, baby food, formula, bottles, water, wipes, toys, snacks, extra clothing just in case. I DO however, finally own a vehicle that could accommodate it all, now that we're finished with it.
     
     That being said, last Saturday, my girls and I were up at 5:00 am, and getting ready for the "Color Me Rad" 5k at 6 Flags Darien Lake, approximately an hour from our home. The plan was, to do the 5k in the morning, and then continue on to the park, to spend the day on the rides and the water park. This was what we were doing for Kaila's 14th Birthday, and we were all pretty excited about it. Wearing our white T-Shirts, shorts, and Lexi with her pink sparkly Tutu, we were on our way.
    
     Before the race had even started, Lexi was up on center stage in a kool-aid chugging contest, and was totally rocking her dance moves to the music that was thumping from the DJ pre- race. By the time the 5k began, Lexi was no longer in the mood for it, having just expended all her energy dancing for an hour.
     We were in the first wave of people to run, and we broke out at a nice trot out of the starting line. This was great! This would be so FUN! This was so ni- "Mom. THIS princess does NOT run. Can we just walk now?" from Lexi. So, a fast walk we did.
     The race took us from the back of the park, clear down to the main gates at the highway, around the front of it, and through the camp ground on site. Where, we were greeted with lots of confused campers who had no idea that a large body of people wearing crazy costumes, covered with assorted colors of powders and gels would be running through the campground first thing in the morning. Also, pretty much every single person in the campground was cooking bacon for breakfast.
     By every single person, I literally mean, several hundred people ALL seemed to be cooking bacon. Regular bacon, maple bacon - just - bacon. Everywhere. It was all you could smell. "Mom." begged Kaila, "Let's just give up and go beg for bacon." Racers all around us were commenting on it. Some coming to a stop, some slowing down. Bacon was everywhere. The struggle to continue was real. I don't think I have ever wanted bacon so badly in my life.
     In the middle of this, two twenty something men jogged by, wearing shorts that had "Moist" printed across the back of one, and "Juicy" printed across the back of the other. Predictably, my kids wondered aloud what the heck that was all about.

     "Kids." I panted,  "I don't care who you are, what you are, how old you are, or where you are. It is NEVER okay to advertise ANYTHING across your butt. OMG, MORE BACON! Can you smell it!"
     "I KNOW! BACON!" They responded, and on we trotted.

     Anyway, we all lived through the 5k, even though Lexi was pretty sure she wouldn't most of the time. After which, we spent the rest of the day in the park on the rides and in the water park. It was such a fun day with my girls, and it really made me appreciate being a mom to older kids now.

     Not to leave the boys out here: I spent this past weekend giving their bedroom a good cleaning, and going through clothes, weeding out things that don't fit and generally re-organizing things. In other words: their bedroom was a disgusting pigsty, and it needed to be overhauled.
     The decision was made to separate their bunk beds, and put them back as single beds. I honestly never gave it a thought, that this was George's room, and that I honestly should have put more consideration into furniture placement.
     I further did not give it a thought, when I saw George creeping up the stairs in his Batman Cape and mask, looking furtive.
     I was out on the porch reading a book, listening to the rain, and not thinking AT ALL that things were entirely too quiet around the house.
     Lexi came out and informed me that George was climbing to the top of his (TALL!) dresser, and launching himself halfway across the room, to land on his brother's bed. He was insisting he was Batman, and Batman can fly.
     It was explained that Batman CANNOT, indeed, fly, and to knock it off immediately. Followed by a discussion on Superheros and which ones can do what. Thank Goodness Batman is not a flying Superhero. No Superman capes will be allowed on the premises. I am rethinking the single beds now. He spent hours bouncing on the beds, and jumping from one to the other.
     The next door neighbors have gotten a trampoline. I thought about acquiring one for our back yard for about 30 seconds. However, I am positive that if anything awful were to happen on a trampoline in our back yard, it would be when I am not home, and the resident Batman would injure himself. So, we nixed the trampoline idea.
 
     Also of note: This week is the last week of school and baseball. We are about to go from: the craziest packed schedules EVER, to - nothing. The kids will be climbing the walls within two days.
     Well. Either that, or binge watching things on Netflix. I need to find things for them to do. We are all ready for a break from the craziness though. We need a breather from the hectic schedules!

     While there will be a lack of school/sports/music activities, unfortunately, it is nearly canning season.
     Why. WHY do I DO this???? This year, I have already announced that we are picking FOUR flats of strawberries, so that I can freeze half of them, and turn the rest into strawberry preserves. Then there will be corn to freeze, peas to pick and freeze (because canned peas are disgusting, please don't argue with me about this. They are.) the peaches, the grapes, the apples, the blueberries, the raspberries and blackberries and possibly green beans. Not sure I am ready to tackle tomatoes. The pressure cooker makes me nervous.
     The mental math gets a little stuck here, but, I will need approximately 100 pounds of sugar, for all this homemade goodness.
    Ah well. All trauma aside, the peach preserves I made last year are so so good. It was nearly worth it.

     Within the next week, we will be celebrating Joe's 10th Birthday. Sometimes, his dry quick humor and brains make it seem like I am talking to a 25 year old. Sometimes, he is all little boy. Other times, he is a mini adult. I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for this kid. The other night at dinner, Kaila excitedly announced that she had only missed 7 questions on a 100 question Science test. "My score was 94!" she announced, all proud. No one thought a thing of it, till Joe pipes up "Kaila. Your score was 93. If you missed 7 on a 100 question test, it was NOT 94. How did you do on  your MATH finals??"
    
     On Mother's Day, Joe marched into my bedroom, stopped once in my eyesight, and announced gruffly " I would like to wish you a Happy Mother's Day. That is all." and marched back out again to my howls of laughter. Last week, he wrote a very articulate "Declaration of Boy Independence" essentially giving him the same rights as a man. The kid in him came out, though, when we insisted he get a job and help pay the bills. Evidently it only applied to ice cream and bed time privileges. Anyhow, he's definnitly one of a kind. I wouldn't change a thing about him.

     Now that I am not working 2 jobs for the summer, I have been cracking the whip around the household a little more.
     I have never liked the dishwasher, and never thought it made the dishes particularly clean. Also, I hate doing dishes. Really really hate it. So, the kids now take turns washing the dishes every night. i tell them it's a good life skill. As well as laundry. So, they assist with that, too. They all have a pretty good probability of not having a dishwasher or maid at their first apartment. It's good stuff to know. Except Lexi, who is still pretty sure she will have a Butler and a mansion. Still. In case the Butler quits - you still need to know how to wash your dishes. And your underwear. So, my minions have really been put to work. Character, and all that. Also, in case we didn't get the message the first time - This Mama hates doing dishes...

    So, that sums up life around here. We survived a 5k, with bacon traps. We will probably not get a trampoline. Batman lives at my house. Canning season and the subsequent whining will be upon us soon. My kids have been given slave labor, and have thus far lived to tell about it.