Additional Awesomeness...

Monday, November 26, 2012

Vacation, Thanksgiving & The Aftermath

Monday - work as usual.  Sitter has seizure, mom gets boys.  Grumpy on scene, so emotional scarring minimal.  For the kids anyway.

Tuesday - no work after all.  Nice quiet day.  Park time, haircut, dinner.  Nice.

Wednesday - no work.  Kids behaved pretty well - not sure, since they were outside almost all day.  Got shizz done.  The End.

Thursday - Stanky wanted to get up at the butt-crack.  Because it was a 'vewy speshul day!'.  Which I was reminded of every 10 minutes between 6:30 and 7:30 when I finally decided sleep was not going to happen.  Nice day with the family - all of us!  No squabbles, disagreements, or otherwise snarky comments.  The kids behaved too!  Got some cute photos of the kids doing their thing together.  Spent some time at Michael's with Gigi and made some scores.  It was a good day.

Friday - We. Did. NOTHING.  It. Was. AWESOME.  I'm sure the kids played or something, but Grumpy and I pretty much migrated from bed to couch to kitchen and back to couch. 

Rinse & repeat for Saturday.

Sunday - Church - great message as always.  Love our church :)  Pawned off Drama & Stanky to papa for a couple of hours.  Took Piggy & the bikes over.  Christmas decorations came out.  Struggle.  Piggy's head almost broke the coffee table. 
Bikes were ridden.  Papa took them across to the school.  Stanky decided to show off for some cute older girls.  He munched concrete.  Niiiiice road rash on the elbow. 
Bikes were ridden again.  Don't really know what happened.  Just that Piggy blasted into the house screeching 'Brudder cwashed anis bawl sac is BWEEDING!' Picture huge eyes and frantic panting.  Yeah, it was awesome.  There was, in fact, a bleeding ball-sac, which I got an eye-ful of, thanks Drama.  Papa did too.  But, there's no permanent damage.  The challenge now is to keep him from showing off his injury LMAO.
Again with the bikes.  As I packed up the car with our treasures (Nana's been giving away stuff like crazy lately!) Stanks & Piggy decided to bungee their bike & bigwheel together.  That did not end well for Piggy.  He and Stanky now sport matching elbow road-rash.

It's back to work today.  Hopefully things will settle down a bit!  At least for a few days.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Smells, and other things that make me wonder.

I went to give Stanky a hug the other night at bedtime.  He smelled like a$$.  Really.  He smirked at me, so I asked him why he smelled like butt-crack.  He gave me that knowing look, stared straight into my eyes and shoved his finger against my nose.  'Because I stuck my finger in my itchy butt-hole! Bwahahahahahahahahaha!'  He then proceeded to fart as much as possible without actually pooping on himself.  Now, to a 5-year old boy, this is insanely funny.  To a AHEM-year old mom, it's disgusting, and honestly, I threw up in my mouth a little.  WHY is it so funny to stink?  Gross.

Last night, I walked into the little boys' room to find PigPen with his pants around his knees, also groping his own butt.  What the WHUCK?  What is this obsession with butt-picking that these boys have?  Once he was finished with the butt-picking, he sat down and started sniffing his toes.  Apparently, one was particularly odiferous, because he stuck it in his mouth to "clean" it.  Again, a little barf in my mouth.  WHY?

I have to thank the good Lord for the ability to purchase new shoes.  Because Dramasaur had some seriously rank tootsies.  Like Swamp-man rank.  The way I imagine Swampfire from Ben10 smells.  The smell would make me gag every time he walked by.  He is 7, and hasn't even gotten close to the disgusting, rank adolescent stage.  I shudder and gag every time I think about that stage.  For now, we got smelly hand soap for him and made him wash those nasty piggies every time he took off his shoes.  That helped.  A LITTLE.

I washed his shoes and socks in vinegar.  I tried bleach.  OxyClean.  Baking Soda.  I tried it all.  I even tried to make him soak his feet in apple cider vinegar, though he wiggled out of that one.  Nothing worked to get rid of that STENCH.  I mean, stink is ok, because everyone stinks at some point.  But this was over-the-top, follow-you-around-the-house stench.  But, I was not about to replace a perfectly good pair of spendy shoes just because of the sneeze-inducing, eye-watering funk.  I mean, seriously, these kids go through shoes quickly enough without having to replace them for purely cosmetic reasons!  Then I spotted a hole.  On top of the big toe of each shoe.  And then Stanky showed up with a torn fastener that I was not going to be able to repair. 

So, off to Payless we went.  For an HOUR.  I kid you not.  I told those boys that if they truly wanted/needed shoes, they could find some at Payless because I was not buying spendy shoes again less than 3 months after their last pair was purchased.  Hence the hour of whining, trying on, whining, checking for speedy-ness, whining, measuring, and just generally driving store staff and mommy crazy.

Dramasaur earned his name.  His "old" shoes were a size 3, and still fit him well with room to spare.  But, for some unknown reason, his foot measured at a 4 (I felt really sorry for the girl bent over his feet - I saw her turn her head to breathe!), and every size 4 shoe he tried pinched his toes.  So, after 20 minutes of hemming and hawing over those shoes, he switched focus to the smaller selection of size 4 1/2 shoes.  What's that?  Why couldn't he just take a pair he liked in a bigger size?  You've not met my Drama, have you?

Each shoe had to be tried on both feet, then compared WHILE ON against another pair that might be better.  He walked forward.  He walked backward.  He asked my opinion on which looked better both coming and going.  He sprinted to the end of the store (no people were harmed or annoying during this process - we were totally alone in the back!).  He turned and contorted in front of the mirror.  He relaced in different patterns.  I'm dead serious people!  And what did he end up with?  The very first pair I showed him, that was dismissed without a second glance!  SERIOUSLY!

Stanky was much simpler.  He scooped up the red/black/grey/white everyday value sneaks and never took them off.  And, he is the one who really needed shoes, since we discovered four rather large holes in the soles of his shoes when he sat down to try new ones on.  Rainy weather would have been his undoing.  FYI: All of his whining was in direct proportion to the theatrics of his big brother. 

Readers, we headed to the counter not once, nor twice, but FOUR times.  Drama changed his mind that much.  I was done.  I'd had it.  I informed my minions (ratherly loudly, so as to have witnesses) that, once I swiped my card, there was no going back.  There was no Shire to go back to.  Wait, sorry, got caught up.  There was no changing of the minds.  No whining at all.  And, to ensure that my edict was adhered to, I had the very nice (though I'm certain she talked crap after we left) sales girl throw those nasty shoes away for us.

Of course, when we got home, Grumpy informed the kids they would not be wearing new shoes to play, resulting in crazed flailing, gnashing of teeth, and, you guessed it, WHINING.  Then I had to tell him I threw away the old nasties.  He was not pleased.  But, I don't have to smell swamp muck anymore. 

On a somewhat unrelated note, why do boys insist on using their toes to stop a moving bicycle when there are perfectly good hand brakes and pedal brakes available? 

Why do they insist on finding the single trickle of dirty gutter water and bathing in it with Hot Wheels cars, light sabers and nerf guns?  Then trailing that funky junk into my garage and kitchen?

How do boys not feel the 7 pounds of sand and wood chips in the bottoms of their shoes?  Or avoid dumping it all on the floor when taking said shoe off, leaving you to discover it when helping them don those same shoes at 7 am in preparation for school?

AAAANND, why can't boys SEE THE PEE they sprayed all over the seat, lid and floor?  Or even halfheartedly attempt to wipe it up?  I never knew the potty-training phase would end with a neverending wiping-with-bleach wipes phase!

Friday, November 9, 2012

Dear's not you, it's me.


I know you're feeling neglected.  Maybe even like I've abandoned you.  I'm sorry.  I didn't realize you felt this way until last night, when you chucked your blades at me as I picked you up.  It's nothing to do with you, really.  Let me explain m'kay?

It's now in the low 60's every day, and getting colder every week.  Gone is the urge to don shorts and capris, because, well, I like my legs to be warm.  And seriously, when I can grow my own sweater-pants, why should I buy thermal underwear?  I can't grow those awesome custom-fit sweater pants when I'm seeing you every day.  Or even every couple of days.  Oh I'll still visit you for some underarm action, but  I can't keep leading you on.  Those long steamy shower sessions are over. 

I've also kicked the cold tea & soda habit due to the colder weather.  It's time for hot chocolate and coffee in the mornings, and those things are more spendy than my 99 cent soda refill.  Your refills aren't cheap babe, and honestly, I'd rather be fuzzy and warm than sleek and shivering.  That $14 a pop can be funneled to my funky sock habit, as well as my cheap employee coffee addiction. 

I'll miss you.  Not really your annoying little nips when you're worn out, but your smooth glide no matter how fuzzy I get between visits.  See you in May!!!

Monday, November 5, 2012

Am I being unreasonable? (AKA another rant)

So, we're having a problem.  Specifically, with DELIBERATE disobedience, in our house.  For example,
today, Dramasaur calls me into the bathroom and points to the sink, which is currently holding Ninja, the free goldfish.  Which I specifically told him (both last night and Grumpy again this morning) to LEAVE ALONE and we would take care of the water change/bowl cleanse tonight.

Why is it that Drama consistently thinks that he knows better, and screw what the parents say, he's going to do what he wants anyway?  And worse, he leads his brothers along with him, and so instead of one problem, we've got three.

Thankfully the fish is fine.  For now, since we didn't put any dechlor in the water, and who knows what was on the rag used to wipe out the bowl.  But geez!  Son, you may not like what I've told you to do, but really, there is a reason for it, and the reason is not to tick you off!

This child has, in the last month, been grounded three times.  TV has been revoked numerous times.  Computer use suspended.  Ability to play with neighbor kids taken away.  Dessert gone.  Extra homework from mom added.  Karate lesson taken away, then we tried going an extra day for some re-focus.

NOTHING. FLIPPING. WORKS. with this kid!

I'm disappointed.  I'm angry.  I'm upset and hurt.  I don't like yelling at my kids.  I don't enjoy punishing them (contrary to popular opinion).  I love them so much and am usually so proud of last week when Drama was recognized for all of his hard work in reading.  Of course, he was flying high on the approval, so he apparently decided that gave him license to screw around with other kids in his after school program.  Which meant he was made to write us a letter about his deplorable behavior (yelling in another students' ear and pounding on a girls' backpack while she was wearing it).  Now, I already have a problem with the after school teacher.  She's, well.  She's a word that rhymes with snitch.  She's kind of hateful.  She has told Drama several times that his handwriting is atrocious, his spelling is the worst she's ever seen, and so on.  Who does that?  He's in SECOND GRADE.  He is a LEFTY.  He is in this special after school program to get extra help and support because he's a little behind.  Not to provide this dragonlady with a convenient pummeling person.

Ok, back to the issue at hand. 

Basically, his behavior sucks.  He doesn't care when privileges are suspended, or when he gets extra work from me.  He just. Doesn't. Care.

I'm at my wit's end here.  I love him to pieces, but I really, REALLY don't like him right now.  I'm so pissed off at his attitude that, if we were about a hundred years ago, I'd lay into him with a belt or make him go cut a switch.  Then again, he probably wouldn't care, and I'd have to pull my hair out in frustration.

Thursday, November 1, 2012


Thank GAWD it's OVER!  Halloween that is.  I love dressing up, and the free candy is a nice bonus, but man the stress!

Since this is our first "holiday" in the new house, we weren't quite sure what to expect.  Here's a quick rundown:
  • First off, I picked up the kids after work as usual, and we saw a gaggle of SAHMs & their tiny tots out banging down doors before we even turned into our driveway.  Um, why bother going out if people aren't even home from work yet, nevermind in the middle of an early dinner?
  • About half of the parents swarming our area appear to be completely unaware of the RULES. 
    1. If the porch is dark, don't knock/ring/bang.  There is no candy here!
    2. Let the littles go first.  I can't tell you how many big kids I saw pushing in front of the toddlers, which just chaps my cheeks.
    3. If a bowl of candy be on the floor, take one piece of candy, NO MORE!

  • The older the neighbor, the more candy given at one time.  Then there are the next-door neighbors.  They kept telling the boys to come back, because they had too much candy left. 
We had to go back to the house to empty buckets before heading out again to the other side of the neighborhood.
This was only 2/3 of the candy we brought home after round 1.  This bin is about 2 feet tall, and about 20 inches round.  It's full now.

The boys had so much candy that they actually turned on the porch light and started handing out their candy to the late stragglers.  Late as in it was barely after 7, pitch black outside and getting cold.  We still have enough candy to see us through 'til Easter.

On a completely unrelated note, I'd like to thank whomever decided to market face tattoos for Halloween.  Pigpen decided his Spidey mask was too tight, and routinely pushed it up on his head.  We stumbled across a Spidey face tattoo at the costume store.
Of course, he announced that this was his mask at each and every house they stopped at.  And then Stanky had to correct that statement with a snarky, 'It's a TATTOO, not a mask.' At each and every house they stopped at.  I think he was still miffed that he didn't have a mask.  Drama decided his mask was too hot, and ditched it about 1/3 of the way through round 1.  The Wolverine claws didn't last much longer, since he couldn't knock, ring, or pick up candy!

All in all though, a successful round of pillaging.  And I'm sure the neighbors, if not Nana & Papa, will have plenty of leftovers to keep the boys in sugar-heaven indefinitely.