Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Speaking of Laundry...

So today I folded three baskets stuffed full of laundry.

So how is it that when I walked into my bedroom tonight, there were three more baskets of laundry, ready to be folded and put away? HOW???

Monday, September 29, 2008

Warning which should be in all caps on the instructions

We've been tie-dying and I'm thinking that the thing about wearing the gloves? Should have been a little more emphatic. The color will wash out of my hands about the time the children grow out of their tie-dyed shirts and socks. Oh, and don't ask why. It was just another one of my brilliant ideas.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

quick thinking saves face

At the oldest child's football game, the cheerleaders gave out blue horseshoes with bells on them to the crowd to make noise with. Each of my children were the recipients of such fabulous noisemakers.

At one point the youngest child dropped his horseshoe on the metal bleachers. It made such a loud racket that even the obnoxious noisy parents in front of us turned to look. My baby, who's been able to blush since the day he was born, blushed and started to hide his face. Then, in his "outside voice" says, "Mommy, why do you keep droppin' that?"

Friday, September 26, 2008

Woopie misunderstandings

My youngest child had a request that we make his new cousin some Woopies.

So I did one evening while the children were in bed. I laid them down in my place where I put finished projects (read: on the floor) and promptly forgot about them. So in the morning, nearly the first thing out of that child's mouth was, "You made the woopies for my cousin!" Apparently I also installed woop-radar.

I was in the other room and mumbled something in return like, "I know, YAY!" then demanded to know if he wanted Cheerios or Shredded Wheat. STAT! Until about two seconds later when his little sad face came close to mine and said, "But Mommy, I thought when you made them that they would smell like a woopie."

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Girls weekend

I took my daughter with me to California this past weekend for a baby shower/girls weekend with my sisters and mother. I learned several things about my daughter this weekend.

  • She'd be happy to get her haircut. As long as her aunt suggests it, not me. Oh, and a dog on her lap helps, too.
  • She only likes the idea of an airplane ride, not the actual ride. It's "boring."
  • She falls asleep like a dream as long as you wait until after midnight to put her to sleep.
  • She doesn't argue with anybody, as long as her brothers aren't around.
  • She likes me well enough, as long as I don't disagree with her.
  • It would be easy to raise an only child, provided that you never had to tell her no, and there were a plethora of other loving adults to take care of her at a moments notice, when, for example, you might want to get your hair done. For two hours.
  • She doesn't like it when people stare at her on the airplane when she sobs noisily for over an hour because she doesn't want to go home.

Monday, September 15, 2008

We're all playing football now.

The pig is now a member of the five year old flag football team. He'll be playing offensive line.
No, we're not obsessed. Not at all.
And, in my defense, the flags were placed on the pig by the five year old. Apparently he needed a teammate.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

This is TEXAS.

Hurricane? Tropical Storm? High winds? Driving rain? Pshht. Who cares, people, this is Texas!

And so we play football. Even when we are nine. And you know what? The boys have far more fun playing in the rain than the parents do watching.

I'm not cut out for this.

Friday, September 12, 2008

More food issues

Issues? Maybe just a little whining.

My best eater has suddenly become the world's pickiest eater. She would eat anything - she was so adventurous and would try it all and loved some pretty unusual things.

But now? I asked her this morning to name four foods that she likes. She had a very difficult time. She came up with rice, alfredo pizza (then tried to come up with 'cold pizza' but vetoed that one as a third food), then finally decided on black beans and olives.

Oh, and ice cream. So at least she's not a complete freak.

I'm mourning my child who used to request a tortilla wrap with spinach, grated cheese and italian dressing. I'm mourning the child who would eat grilled chicken. And peanut butter and jelly. And fruit. And vegetables. And chips. And yogurt. WHERE HAS SHE GONE AND HOW DO I FEED THIS NEW CREATURE???

Thursday, September 11, 2008

So THAT'S what they'll remember

When we went to Arkansas and Oklahoma a few years back, the two things that the kids remembered were the pool at the hotel in Oklahoma City and sleeping in the car when the tent started leaking because it was raining so hard in Arkansas. Never mind the adventures we had - mining for diamonds, seeing a bear, hiking, gorgeous views, museums and the zoo. Culture, gosh darnit, and all you people remember is the hotel pool and sleeping in the car? Definitely one of my prouder parenting moments.

So fast forward a few years, and I'm hoping that we can really make an impression and get our children to remember the national parks and wildlife that we see and all that Culture! Ahem. Apparently not.

We're in the car (obviously) and my daughter says to me, "Someday soon, I think that we should go back to Tennessee."

I was so excited! We made an impression! Culture! Fabulosity! Pat self on back! WaHoo!

"I want to go back to Ripley's mini golf and see the mouse who says, 'where's my cheese?'"

Oh. So that's what you remembered. Now I know. I'm thinking that we could probably not even leave the city and have a vacation of a lifetime with this kind of audience.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Death of the Family Dinner

Seriously, I don't think I've had a decent meal in weeks. It's not pretty.

Our schedule runs a little like this:

3:00 Pick up kids and walk home
3:10 Snack
3:30 Homework
4:30 Dinner
5:00 Get ready for practice
5:20 Leave for practice
8:00 Leave practice, snack in car
8:30 Arrive home, bath and stories
9:00 Bedtime

Honestly. Dinner at 4:30? I can't even force them to eat awful food and demand that they eat or go hungry, because they have to run for hours and hours. I can't send them to practice hungry. So I have to play short order cook and feed them all sorts of randomness that must serve as a meal for the next seven weeks. And me? I just eat scraps in between preparing the meal and getting everything ready for the Next Thing To Do.

But by then I will have forgotten how to cook. Or how to fight with them over how many bites they must eat before leaving the table.

And my husband? Yeah, he's on his own when he gets home from work...

Brilliant dinner ideas? My ears are open...

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Children playing with guns (toy guns! yikes!)

I allow my children to play with guns. Toy guns only, however. Which puts me into a category of parents labeled, "terrible" but I do it anyway.

While they are allowed to play with guns, there are some rules. But different rules from some houses. Because of my pet peeve.

When my children are using a toy gun, they are usually playing the good guy. Soldier, police, whatever. So when they demand that someone surrender and put their hands up when that person is at gun point, they are not allowed to shoot them once that person has surrendered. Period.

Now, sometimes, when I'm told to surrender, I put my hands up. Sometimes I run away or run toward them. So they never know when they will be allowed to shoot.

But, when we're at a park, and we are playing with kids that I don't know, or might happen to be unsupervised (one of the unquestionable joys of being a football parent - not) - and they encourage my children to play with them and their toy gun and tell them that they are going to play "cops" while running around pointing a gun at all the other little kids, saying "Say your prayers" we walk away. We choose to not play with those kids. Well, really, I choose for them that they aren't playing with that child, in that manner.

So while so many parents reluctantly allow their children to play with guns but tell them not to point it at anyone, I rebel (surprise!). But we follow rules when we point that gun. Because lets face it - we have handguns in my house. They are locked up in a safe, high on a shelf in a closet the children have no business being in, BUT, chances of my children shooting a handgun in their lives is high.

So I will teach them. From the beginning. Instead of being scared and hiding our heads in the sand, we will embrace the danger and give them all the knowledge they need so that guns will be boring, a tool to be used in a specific setting. Kind of like a toilet brush.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Missing them.

I miss my children.

Yes, they are all here. Sleeping soundly, in fact, something that I should be doing, also, but this thought keeps entering my head. I just miss them.

Each morning, we wake up before seven, they dress, eat breakfast, pack lunches and I walk them to school. I have seven glorious hours that fly by before I can get done even half the things I think I should while they're gone.

As soon as they come home from school, they have a snack, do their homework, play for about seven minutes, until it's time to eat a light dinner, get dressed for practice and then off we go. As soon as we get done, it's bath, stories and bedtime.

I feel like every time I speak to my children, I'm directing them to their next step. We're not spending time just being. We are going and doing, and even when we're not doing at the moment, I'm contemplating the time, how much time we have, how much time we need and how I'm going to get them to do the next thing on our agenda.

I'm just not an agenda gal. My pediatrician used to ask me how often my newborns ate. I never knew - I just fed them when they were hungry. He asked how long they nursed. I never knew - they stopped when they were done. I quit wearing a watch when my first child was born, because I thought it wasn't comfortable when I was snuggling his soft little head. I've never worn one since.

I miss listening to them play, having casual conversations with them about things that are important to them, not just demanding they list the things that they did at school all day and directing them to their next step. I'll be glad when football season is over, though I'm pretty sure we'll just be heading on to the next sport. I just want my children and our non-schedule schedule back.

I hope I don't have to wait until summer.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008


Since I've been a terrible blogger of late, and I now need to pay my father for his Network Administrator services in blog posts, I really need to get cracking, as I think I must owe him at least twelve.

I suppose that should be my first confession. My father is my computer-go-to-guy. How embarassing is that for a thirty three year old woman? And sadly, once he becomes obsolete, er, I mean, IF he becomes obsolete, then my kids will be my computer go-to people. I hope. Because otherwise I'm hopeless.

But this leads me to my next confession. When I was in college, in the mid-nineties, I thought the internet was dumb, a passing phase, a silly thing my roommates wasted their time on, that I couldn't be bothered with. This from a girl who's sister invented internet dating. We had this cute service at our house! It was called Prodigy! We could communicate with other people over the phone line! My sister met a cute boy from across town! They dated! They broke up! THIS WAS THE BEGINNING OF THE INTERNET AND I WAS A PART OF IT. AND TOTALLY MISSED IT. Please, don't ask me to forecast the companies of the future - tempting, I know.

And this, leads me to my next bit of breathtaking stupidity. People would always make the comment "The days are getting longer" or "The days are getting shorter" Hmm. I always thought they were all twenty-four hours? The clocks - how do they know? Even the cheap ones know to shorten the seconds and minutes? Weird! The most embarassing part? I was in college before I figured it out. Don't tell my children, they still think I'm smart-ish.

And then, because you've had enough of my complete idiocy, a bit of an idiosyncracy. Well, issues. It's toothpaste. The lid must go on after use. I can't use a tube of toothpaste that's all sticky and has globbed up toothpaste all over it. I'm actually not anal about much, but if my husband refused to cooperate with this one, he'd totally have his own tube that I would refuse to use. I'd rather clean toilets with my eyelashes than touch a tube of globby toothpaste. Well, maybe not, but you get the idea. Let's say it together - ISSUES.

And then last, a problem. A rather large problem. I can't eat around old people. I don't know where this one came from - maybe from all that volunteering I did as a teenager feeding cauliflower puree to old people who smelled like week-old pee and bingo cards, but I just can't do it. Bigotry? Ageism? I don't know, but maybe it will be my next diet secret.

So there. Most of my deep dark secrets and admissions of idiocy and discrimination, all in one post. And all thanks to my dad for getting my internet connection back up and running. I'm not sure that we have much to thank him for, after this bit of frightening-ness, do we?