A Materialistic Tramp.. Or Just Lofty Goals?

Here's the girl:


Here's the conversation:

N: Mommy, when I get big, I gonna get a babe? ("babe" is what Skip and I call each other, and how she refers to any significant other. Not to be mistaken for a small infant.)
M: Yes, honey. You can get a babe when you get married.
N: We can get marry?
M: Sure! It will be fun for you to get married.
N: My babe can buy me two rings like you?
M: Don't settle for anything less than two rings honey.
N: My babe can buy me a cell phone too?
M: Sure.
N: My babe can buy me an ipod?
M: Yep.
N: He gonna buy me a car too? A big truck?
M: If you ask him nicely he will.
N: I can take it shower with my babe same time?
M: No. Never.
N: My babe sleep in my same bed?
M: That would be okay. As long as it's on different nights.
N: Mommy, you so silly.

The Gulf of Misery and Endless Wo

So I tend to be a bit emotional. I haven't always been this easy-to-weep, but I find the older I get, the more easily discouraged I become. I realize there are a lot more major things in life to cry about, but you know how sometimes the little things seem bigger than they are?

Today is a weepy day. *For the record, it's not full on sobbing. It's just continual teary-eyes. Give me a little credit.

This kid loves football. He knows a lot of stats from the NFL, watches games whenever he can, and wants nothing more than to play tackle football. He's played flag football before, and we've been hesitant about allowing him to move up to tackle. Sadly, he's built like his mama... very lean, tall, and small-boned. Not the best frame for tackle. But we said one more year of flag football, two years of football camp, and next year he could play tackle.

Parks and rec just called and said they didn't have enough coaches for flag this year, and they are cancelling the program. I can't even bring myself to tell him, because he is going to be devastated. I'm devastated for him! I cried about it! Is that weird? It seems weird. But I'm so sad.

And then there's this girl:

As you know, Noe wears hearing aids. She is totally deaf in her left ear, and mild to moderately impaired in her right. Because of this, she misses out on a lot of language acquisition. Did you know that 90% of the language we use is obtained through conversation? Imagine not hearing most of the conversations around you clearly enough to pick up words from them. That's the situation here. Now that she is in kindergarten, her delay has become much more evident. Skills she should have like rhyming and pattern forming are very difficult for her. So I was working on her homework tonight, and I was supposed to give her clues that would prompt her to fill in a blank with a rhyming word. She was totally oblivious.
So I put it away, and went in my room and cried. I don't do this stuff in front of my kids, mind you. I do have some pride. Or shame. Whatever.

I'm not disappointed in my children, I'm disappointed for them. I know life isn't a walk through the park. Believe me, I know. And I know we learn and grow from our struggles. But I would love to know if I am doing things right over here. I will empathize with my kids, and then I'll give them my "kick it all in the butt" speech. But where's the cryometer that lets me know what's appropriate and acceptable for both parent and child? Do I get too upset about things? Do I cry too much? Do I not let them cry enough? Disappointment is a stinky trash can full of poo.

So maybe it's not the whole endless gulf thing going on... but I am kind of bummed.

Dirty Mouth?

Once again, thanks to Jessica, our home is on its way to being a better place. (Although Skip, if you're reading this, it was totally my idea and Jessica was just trying out what I suggested to her.)
These kids of mine. Do they even really like each other? Doesn't seem like it. They can be so mean to each other, and the NAME CALLING... ai papi! It's horrible. So we implemented the system. We took the trash words, (see word bubble below) wrote them on papers, and threw them in the trash. We agreed it's okay to get angry at someone, but there have to be better alternatives to expressing that anger. We came up with four. (Funny, it was WAY easier to make the trash words list...)

So. The trash words are in the trash. The acceptable alternatives are posted on the wall. The "oops" jar has been created. (If they "forget" and use a trash word, the boys have to put a quarter in the oops jar. Noe just has to find some kind of coin... since they're all the same to her anyway, and she doesn't even get an allowance yet.)

So wish us luck. Lucky for me, I only use my trash words in private. So I'll be keeping all my money.

And The Mother of the Year Award Goes To...

Sometimes I am a lazy mom. It's just easier that way. You know what I mean. But sometimes, the bug bites me, and I decide to put forth a little effort. It's harder, yes, but it pays off in the long run. Following are some examples of why my efforts should earn me the coveted MotY award:

1. Nutrition: Imagine my delight when I found zucchini and summer squash in the staff lounge at work yesterday. It was there FOR THE TAKING! Skip was out of town, so I planned a lazy meal of hot dogs and mac n cheese for the kids. I, however, was now going to have garden-fresh sauteed veggies, with a little onion, garlic, cracked pepper and Parmesan. Coupled with some whole wheat artisan bread, my supper was amazing. The kids looked at my plate and said, "Why are you having that? Don't we get any?" I replied, "This is for Mommy, guys." At this point, ALL THREE OF MY CHILDREN said, "That's no fair! Why do we have to eat hot dogs and you get to eat zucchini and squash?" There has never been a prouder moment in my life. I told them if they finished all their hot dogs and macaroni, they could have a bite of my zucchini.

2. CHORES: Recently, Liz and Jessica both posted about some cleanliness issues in their homes. It got me thinking. There was some room for improvement in our house. Every morning, the kids are supposed to make their beds and tidy their rooms before they leave for school. Friday, I asked "Did you clean your room and make your bed?" I got three "yes ma'ams". So I decided to check (that's me, not being lazy). This is what I found:

Those beds are not made, those rooms are not tidied. So I took a bunch of pictures, and made a little slide presentation for Saturday morning. We had a family meeting, and discussed how "yes ma'am" was actually an incorrect answer to the original question. We revisited the "how-to's" of room cleaning and bed making. Skip used his laser pointer to highlight specific areas on each slide. I conducted a question and answer period. Assignments were reissued. The rooms are now clean. We'll see how it plays out next week.

3. OUTSIDE PLAY: When I am in lazy mode, I would MUCH rather sit and blog, or edit my pictures on the computer, than go outside and watch people ride scooters AGAIN. I'm sorry, it's true. I adore my children, but most of the time, their play activities aren't really that fun for me. But lazy mom was on hiatus, and MotY mom was kicking butt. I went outside on our unusually warm 93 degree September afternoon, and played "car wash" with the kids, the hose, a scooter and a bike. It was a lot of fun.

4. CRIME AND PUNISHMENT: Sometimes, it's easier to let things slide. Discipline takes work. Sometimes, lazy mom can't be bothered. MotY mom, along with DotY dad, say otherwise. The boys lost 2 Netflix movies. To replace them it will cost $42.00. They didn't lose the movies on purpose. Why should they have to pay for them? Well, because they were irresponsible. So naturally, it would be responsible for them to earn the money. Winter is just around the corner, which means firewood needs to be cut. And stacked. Last week they weeded the garden and landscaping to the tune of $20.00. This week, they will be stacking wood to the tune of $22.00. That's a LOT of weeds to pull and wood to stack. It's also a really sweet tune. Just listen:

Sounds good, doesn't it?

Polish up my award. My acceptance speech is in my pocket. Thanks. Now I'm going to go lounge on my bed and read my People magazine while the sweet music plays.

Tick-Me-Off-Elmo

You may recall we went to California this summer. Anyone interested in a little recap of one of our highlights? Here's what we thought: Let's hit Hollywood Boulevard! It could be fun, right? Sure!

Unless Elmo's there.

Elmo: (in sweet, chirpy voice) Hey kids! Wanna come take a picture with Elmo? Hey Mom! Take your kids' picture with Elmo!"
Me: Sure! (I take a picture)
Elmo: (holding out tip bucket, still chirping) Thanks guys!
Me: Oh, I'm sorry, I don't have any cash on me.
Elmo: (in angry, possibly drunk, grown man voice) Oh come on, lady! You think we do this for fun? We work off of tips, you know.
Me: (in slightly irritated voice) No, actually, I didn't know that. You might've mentioned it before I took the picture!
Elmo: (still in mean-guy voice) You mean to tell me I'm the first character you've taken a picture with today? Give me a break!
Me: (in really sick of Elmo voice) Um, yeah, actually. You ARE the first picture we've taken today. And probably the last.
Elmo: (in completely disgusted voice) Yeah, well for the record lady, we don't do this for kicks. We make our money off of tips.
Me: Well you may want to mention that up front next time. And you don't deserve a tip anyway. You scared my children. And I think you might also be drunk.

So. As you can see, Hollywood Boulevard is no place for amateurs. Come prepared. Come with cash. Or booze.

Fairly Disturbing

So. At the risk of seeming pretentious, I'm going to share my analysis of the county fair.

1. Fair employees: Where do they find these people? Apparently, Bobcat Goldthwait is still around, and travelling the country running carny rides. Here is my understanding of job requirements: must have visible tattoos and greasy hair. Must be a chain smoker. Must openly hate your job.

2. Prizes: Does anyone else find this display disturbing? I'll bet there's a prize every time. And the nice carny man will take you around back to show it to you.

3. Food: Why is this stuff suddenly so good? It's the same crap we avoid like the plague the other 364 days a year. Why, on this one day, does lard and sodium suddenly become so appealing?

4. Rides: The rides themselves may or may not be fun, depending on your penchant for this sort of thing. It's the presentation of the rides that bewilders me. I think my 10 year old summed it up nicely: "Mom, why is there a girl in a bikini on the Ice Storm ride? That doesn't make any sense. Wouldn't she be cold?"
5. Fair attendees: I realize that I was a fair attendee. But here's where I risk sounding snobbish. The other fair attendees, well they were a little different. I couldn't really take pictures of all of them, but I think one is enough. Personal hygiene my not be your thing, and while I find that offensive, I realize it's an individual choice. But check out the clove this guy is smoking. Check out the 3 inches of ash hanging off the end. What you CAN'T see is the baby stroller sitting just below the 3 inches of ash. I kept watching to see where it would land first- on the kid's head or on the ground. Oh, and how 'bout that bluetooth? (The one in his ear, not his mouth). We can't afford laundry detergent, shampoo or soap, but at least we have our technology.
That said, if you're willing to overlook the oddities of the fair, it can be fun. A money pit, yes. But fun nonetheless. We spent $77 which in my opinion was WAY too much money. But no one got sick and we had fun. It's not all bad, I guess.
My favorite picture is Noe, delighted that she's finally tall enough to ride a ride.

I Love You Just the Way You Are

So. Sometimes I get a little confused in my marital relationship. I see my darling spouse, Paige Skip, and I know there's a lot of love, but I just gotta wonder...
The other day we were walking down the street. Paige Skip says to me, "We need to get you some new shoes." I say, "What's wrong with the shoes I'm wearing?" Paige Skip says to me, "You look so good, and then... there's the shoes."
It's a known fact that I'm frugal. Possibly even a bit cheap. I go for the sale items. I employ the old motto "Make do or do without." I don't know why. I'm not really poor. I just am that way.
Paige Skip, on the other hand, likes to encourage me to get new things and look my best. Remember when Skip Paige inspired me to buy that new dress? Well it got me a little hooked. I just bought another new dress. And I'm sure my spouse(s) will like it a lot.

It's nice to be loved. It's nice to know that my spouse(s) want(s) me to look and feel my best. It's good that he or she encourages me to treat myself to new things from time to time. I appreciate having such a loving spouse(s) and I just wanted to give a public thank you.
It's good that the one who most loves me in life is also fashion savvy and willing to drop a lot of money on a pair of shoes or a new dress. So Paige, Skip, I love you.

Feliz Cumpleanos!

S0. I've been blogging for a year. To celebrate, I will lazily refer you to my first post.

Well, technically, it's my second post. But the first one was introductory and obligatory in nature, and not at all worth reading.

A whole year. Who can believe it! I've met so many interesting people, and divulged so many not-so-interesting things about my own life. I really like blogging. However, I have hit a blogging slump, of late. Maybe it's my new job. I am teaching special ed this year. It's a lot more challenging than I thought it would be. Skip is working on his degree, and has classes three times a week. There are about 1,000 other things going on, and frankly, I lack the time or the energy to post very often. And what a shame with all the good political and celebrity fodder floating around.

So when all else fails, when ya got nothin in blogland, throw up some recent pictures of your kids and call it good.

Now go read my first post please. Comment on it. Laugh at how only 3 people actually read it. We've come a long way, baby.