Call me Stewart.....Martha Stewart...

I have a serious problem.

I get it into my head that I am crafty.  I look at things all the time and think, Oh my goodness, I could totally do that!!! But guess what?  I can't.  I can't do it, and I need to get it through to my brain that I am not Martha Stewert and just be happy in my normalness.

But I am not happy in my normalness, I want to be special.  So I keep trying, because I cannot admit defeat.  We are not quitters in this family, and I will not quit trying.  However, if this is how I am going to roll, I really need to just realize that it is never going to look like the picture, and be okay with that.

Oh you think I am exaggerating?  I am so not.  

For my twin daughters' birthday, I was doing a whole princess theme thing.  I was making everything pink and purple.  When I came across these little gems:

I mean, how cute are they, right?  Little pink and zebra striped cookies, so cute!  And they look just like the peanut butter blossoms I make at Christmas, and those are super duper easy!  I can totally do this!!  So I make up some sugar cookie dough, and put them in the oven and then put the little candies on top.....

Do they not look like two giant,hot pink, zebra nippled boobs to you?  Because they looked like a cartoon had a mammogram to me.  And I had to serve these at the girls' birthday party!!  The Admiral could not quit laughing, and kept saying, "Man, these need some milk to go with them." Go ahead...laugh....I will wait....

Okay, so the same party, I decided to make this really adorable castle cake that I found online.  It looked super easy.

Right?  I mean, come on, no hard decorating, and it looks like a castle right? Well, I had a few issues:

See, they didn't' have the colors I wanted at the store, and they didn't' have any ice cream cones at all, and I couldn't find the right candy either.  So I had to make do with what I had on hand.  I tried to fun it up with pictures on the top of a glass slipper and a crown and some hearts, but no go.  It looks like my daughters made their own cake.  Just awful.  And I can't even take credit for the little flags on top, my sister made those.  sigh...

And it isn't just baked goods.  (which let me say in my defense, they may look ugly, but I make some of the best tasting baked goods you will ever eat.  Not pretty to look at, but you won't have to look at them long, because they will be all gone in about a minute.  There was NONE of the cake or cookies leftover, so at least I have that going for me).

No,  I suck at making lots of stuff.  I have been trying to teach myself to knit for a YEAR.  I am still on the same ball of yarn I bought at the beginning, because I keep messing up.  My poor Thumbellina has been asking me since last winter, "mom, I thought you were going to make me a scarf?"  Yeah, well, I am sorry, but mommy starts off with 15 stitches, then 4 lines later I have 8, then 4 lines later I have 23.  It looks like I was drinking while I was knitting ( and that IS a possiblity.)  I tried cross stitching.  I made one thing that was any good, and gave it to my niece (a cute little fairy), and ever since I just can't seem to count.  The dog I tried to make for my son when he was born looked like it had a lazy eye, and was missing a leg.  Maybe it is a counting problem with me.  That would seem to be a possibility as well, except that I also have a problem with painting, or sculpting anything with clay, or drawing, or decorating, or anything that involves glue or glitter.... 

I just need to face it. I am like a person with a gambling problem.  Except instead of gambling it is crafting.   I am a girl who likes to craft, that needs to just be banned from Michael's craft store because sooner or later I am going to be owing them a fortune in back payments for my habit,  and some big woman named Helga from the fabric department with one eye, a mustache, and black hairs growing out of the mole on her neck is going to come looking to break my arm if I don't pay up.

  I guess I will just stick to making delicious cookies and cakes that don't need fancy decorations.

Oh wait!  Look at this!!  I could totally do this!!

It can't be THAT hard right??? 

This may be a little dark. And a little nuts. Well, a lot nuts.

Do you ever wake up one morning, and for absolutely no reason at all, just hate pretty much everyone and everything? 

I don't get that way very often.  In fact, to quote an earlier post of mine, most of the time I am "F*@$ing delightful" all the live long day.  But on rare occasions, I will wake up and just dislike pretty much everything. 

Today is one of those days.

I will say, part of the reason is, that The Admiral got called out to work at 10pm last night, and anytime he is out driving with the other maniacs after dark, I get all nervous and irrational about it.  Like if I am not there, he won't see a deer cross the road, hit it, and be dead in a ditch somewhere.  Or there will be a crazy maniac drunk driver, and he won't see him swerving, and gets hit and is dead in a ditch somewhere.  Or he is tired, and I am not there to wake him up, and so he falls asleep behind the wheel, rolls off the road, crashes, and is dead in a ditch somewhere.  Most of my scenarios in my head involve ditches and subsequent demise.  I will watch the news and if there is a crash, even if it is no where near where his account is, I will text him, and say, "did you crash? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere?  If not text me and let me know you are ok."  

Last night was exceptionally bad, because he left at 10, and of couse the anxieties were already nice and settled, since I don't go to bed until 11, and so I was wide awake, fretting over the imminent death and the ditch it may occur in.  I went to bed, and lay there flipping channels until midnight when finally I passed out watching Neve Campbell get bludgeoned to death by Matt Dillon (special prize for anyone who can name that movie!)

At 12:35am my daughters wake me up to tell me that their humidifier was out of water.  I was annoyed, because WHY did this necessitate me having to fill it right then??  But I did, and they immediately went back to sleep, thank God.  But me?  Not so much.  I tossed and turned for another hour. 

So at 4 am, I woke up out of a dead sleep to find The Admiral was NOT back, and I checked my phone to which he had NOT texted.  So guess what?  My mind immediately thought, "This is it.  It has happened.  He is really dead in a ditch.  It is 4 am, and my husband is dead in a ditch."  I texted him,

Me: Oh My God Admiral, are you OK????  

I wait two minutes and send another

Me: Please text me and let me know you are ok.

I wait one more minute and then text

Me: CALL. ME.   

I lay there waiting.  And in the entire time I was waiting, here is the monologue that ran through my head.  Please enjoy:  (because as I am sure you are gathering, he is not dead.)

Oh god.  This is it.  This time I am right.  I mean, why else would i have woken up out of a dead sleep?  We are so close, and have such a connection, I just know something is wrong. That is what happens when you sort of grow up together.  You get psychic about the other person if bad things happen.  He is dead in a ditch for real.  Oh Gosh, I am glad I said I love him before he left and hugged him.  I better turn on the news and listen for any news of car crashes.  Well, They won't release his name yet though because i haven't been notified.  Oh no.  That means the highway patrol will be coming to my door.  Oh that is going to be bad.  I will cry, and the kids will not know what is going on.  Well, they will be asleep, so I will have time to gather myself.  Oh, I should put on a bra.  If I am sobbing hard, I don't want the girls going crazy.  (I put on bra.)  Oh, no, the dog might bark.  Then the kids will wake up.  I don't want that, I will need time to gather myself if I am going to be strong for my kids.  How am I going to keep it together for my kids?  Maybe I will have the Highway patrol hang out until I can get my sisters over here to help me.  Oh no, I can't do this alone, someone is going to have to just move in with me for awhile.  I don't know how to plan a funeral.  Or where the insurance information is.  Well, I guess I could call his buddy George at work.  Oh, George, I don't have his number.  I will need to call our pastor to get it, George goes to church with us.  Oh Gosh, I will have to plan the funeral, and he wants me to play "another one bites the dust" at the funeral.  I cant' do that!  He has always said he wanted that, but did he really or was he just joking?  I don't want to play that.  Oh God, I can't play "another one bites the dust at the funeral!  What was he thinking asking me to play that?  And who is going to watch the kids during the funeral, everyone I use as babysitters will be there, and you can't bring toddlers to a funeral!  They will be all over, and climbing on their daddy because they don't know what dead is!  They will want to play with him!  And I will be so broken up I won't care, and people will say things like, "Well, I know her husband was found dead in a ditch somewhere, but at least she shouldn't let the children climb all over his body. She is a terrible mother."  And I will be during this time!  I will be a terrible mother!  Because at this point I won't care that they are acting like Hooligans!  And they will grow up and be on the psychologist couch talking about how their mom was a terrible mother, and let them crawl all over their father's body, and now they are scarred for life.  And  Your Royal Highness will be on the psychologist couch because he will feel like he had to grow up too fast to help take care of his siblings, and his mother failed him, and he blames me for all the wrong in his life.  Maybe I can just get someone to take care of all of the paperwork stuff and money stuff for me, so I can tend to the kids.   I will just tell them to pay off the house, and I will just use my paychecks to live off of.  But OH MY GOD!!  I don't know how to do the auto bill pay!  I don't know how to run anything on this stupid computer!!!  I SHOULD HAVE ASKED!!! I should have asked before he died!!!  OH NO!!!  Why didn't I ask!!!  And now I never can! OH GOD!!!  Who is going to fix crap when it breaks?  Or lift heavy stuff for me?  Wait, what am I talking about?  I am a woman of the 2000's, I am fully capable of figuring this crap out.  (sighing), I will be fine.  I will just miss him.  Why did he have to go out on a call at 10 pm??  Why..... (phone vibrates.....) 

Admiral:  I am fine, sorry, no signal back in the data room.  

(Pause for a beat....)





Well, I guess I will go back to sleep, I have to get up in 30 minutes.....

And THAT my friends is why I kind of hate everything today.  I am emotionally exhausted.

I am a terrible person

I am a terrible person.  I have not always been a terrible person, but as I deal with the flying monkeys day in and day out, I have begun to turn into a terrible person.  I once heard in church a wonderful saying, "Picture yourself as a juice box.  Every time you give yourself to your family or children, they are taking a sip.  As the day ends, your juice box has had so many sips, it is collapsing in on itself."  Now I know that they finished up that alliteration by saying that the only way to refill that box of juice is to take quiet time out with God, and and He will refill it. Yeah I get it, I get it, and I understand.  But I like that visual.  The kids have a big fight that I have to break up, (sip), Little man has a tantrum (sip), The Admiral yells down the stairs, "How long has this laundry been in the washer (sip sip),Your Royal Highness needs kicked in the butt all morning to get out of the door, dressed and with everything he needs, (sip sip sip).  I do  feel like a juice box.  And I believe that because of the tremendous pressure from my box collapsing in on itself,  I have started exhibiting some terrible behaviors.

I have started hiding candy bars all over the house. 

Not giant size ones, but those mini ones.  I have a bag of York Peppermint patties hiding in a photo cupboard in my living room.  I also have hidden a bag of Heath bars in the console of the van ( no one really ever looks in there because almost all of them are still in carseats.)  I also may have a few bars stashed in the tampax box in my bathroom. 

My life has become a shadow of what I thought it would be.  I am hiding candy.  WTH happened to me?  But you know, the thing is, if these flying monkeys that I call my children would let me have just one thing that this mine, just ONE, I would not have to resort to such psychotic behavior. 

Is it that I mind sharing candy with my children?  No, of course not.  I share candy with them all of the time.  I get them treats.  But the problem is, THEY are the ones that do not share.  I will open a bag in the morning, and then go out in the afternoon after lunch to have a snack size hershey bar, and the entire bag is GONE!  These people thatI live with (besides the Admiral) are horrible horrible sharers!  And not from lack of teaching. For heavevns sake I say it all day long!  "Share with your brother!"  "Share with your sister!"  You would think after hearing it for the four years of their short little lives, it would start to sink it. 

So I now resort to hoarding. 

I also will go through the drive through at Tim Horton's, and tell the kids, "I am just getting a coffee." as I order my iced capp, which is essentially a coffee milkshake.  I am not even sure that there is any coffee in it at all.  But the beautiful thing is, they don't question it.  It is not that I mind buying each and every one of them a chocolate milk or some Tim Bits, I do that all of the time too!  It is just that sometimes, it is close to lunch, and I don't want them to have a bunch of sugar right before nap and so I avoid the crying.  They often ask, "Mommy, is that yummy?  That looks yummy, that doesn't look yucky."  as I sip my sweet, icy, whipped cream and chocolate syrup covered goodness.  I tell them, "Oh, no, it is bitter.  You have tried coffee before, it is yucky and bitter.  Same thing, this is coffee."  Saying this is not really lying, because it is an iced cappucino, and cappucino by definition has espresso in it, and espresso is technically coffee.  "You will like coffee when you are big enough to spell the word sophistication." This does NOT work on Your Royal Highness.  I only use this deviant behavior when he is not with me.

I also sometimes will say I have to go to the bathroom, take my Kindle in there with me, and just
hang out in there for a few minutes just to get some time alone.  I have said this before, if I could have some wine, music, candles, and a box of chocolates in there with me, the bathroom would be like a fine spa.  It is my favorite room in the house right now.  Sweet sweet bathroom....(sigh)

My littlest ones can't read the clock yet, so sometimes I will just start the evening routine early saying it is bedtime when we still have like 30 minutes left.  I only have this card to play for like another year, then the girls will be in kindergarten and will learn how to read time, so I need to use it while I can.  But there are days that I just can't even handle it anymore...and it is either early bedtime, or I am running down the street, screaming, and as you all know , I. Don't. Run.

I also refuse to give up nap time, even though my girls really are too old for it.  They never sleep, and just spend the entire time up there looking at books and playing quietly by themselves, but I just can't bring myself to say,

"You don't have to nap anymore."  It wouldn't be so bad except, nap time is like two and a half hours long, and I get so much stuff done during this time!  I just can't do it!  I can't pull that trigger!  So I make them go up, be on their bed, and lay down with a book or 5, surrounded by stuffed animals (so I don't feel too guilty about making them be in there for two hours with nothing to do), and I get my stuff done.  I am so selfish sometimes, but you know what, they like clean clothes and a clean house, and a sane mommy too, so sometimes we all have to make sacrifices!

So becoming a mother has made me into a terrible person.  I hoard food, don't share, lie, and abuse my motherly power.  Hopefully my children will forgive me one day.  But it is what keeps me nice to them.  If I didn't do these little things for myself, I would not be able to let them drink out of my juice box at all.  So either they will be on the couch when they are older, or, when they become parents, maybe they will take a page from my book of , "How to survive being a stay at home parent and not turn into a crazy person."

Watching the Admiral go to the bathroom does not make us a healthy couple

This year the Admiral and I celebrated our 18th wedding anniversary.  We get a lot of questions about "Wow!  That is a long time.  How have you guys been able to make it work for so long, and with 4 kids?"  Usually, I don't even think about it, because, well, I just don't.  But I read a blog post the other day that a friend of mine put on her facebook page to share (she didn't write it, she just read it.)  and as I read it, I had a lot of opinions and ideas about it.  (If you would like to read it, here is the link: http://thoughtcatalog.com/kimberley-hinderson/2014/10/14-things-all-healthy-couples-do/

The article was about Things that all  Healthy Couples do.  As I read these, I actually laughed out loud at them.  I feel like The Admiral and I have a pretty darn healthy relationship, and we do little to NONE of these things.  Please please please let me elaborate on this. 

#1 Share the shower.
 Anyone who is anyone knows sharing the shower completely sucks!  Unless you live in one of those richie rich houses where there is an abnormally huge shower with two showerheads, it just is not as romantic as it sounds.  One person is freezing cold and dry, and the other is drowning.  Neither one of you agrees on water temperature, so one or the other is either burning or ice bucket challange cold (which kills the mood right there, does it not?)  And there is NO ROOM.  Elbows are hitting the shower curtain (EW!!!), behinds are touching the wall (Gross, we all know how often those really get cleaned, right?)  and if you are a short girl like me, water is spraying off of your taller than you partner, and getting you right in the eyes, and up the nose, waterboard style.  Sharing showers is not fun, and not romantic.  Plus I always manage to get soap in my mouth...

#2 Pop each other's pimples
If this is what it takes to be a healthy couple, then I will pass thanks.  GROSS!!!  I mean, really?  That makes you a healthy couple?  I am sorry, but the minute he comes at one of my pimples, I am hiring an attorney.  For reals.  Next topic please I just vurped in my mouth.... 

#3 Makes fast food runs at 2am. 

Hmm.  Interesting.  I can tell you right now, if I ever even asked the Admiral to get out of his cozy warm bed, and trudge out to get some Taco Bell at 2am, he would look and wonder if I ever knew him at all.  I can count on one hand how many times he has gone out on a whim just to get a snack for me when he wasn't already having to be out in public for an errand, and all were when I was pregnant, and you just do that for your pregnant wife.  End of story. Pregnant wife: yes, Hormonal wife who just wants fatty fast food at 2 am: get your own ass out of bed and get it yourself, maybe you will burn the calories you will be consuming by moving around.  Plus I can't eat that crap after 6 pm anymore anyway. 

#4 Binge watch TV shows
Now I will say we do this together.  But I also can do this with my girlfriends and my sisters.  Does this mean we have healthy relationships too?

#5 Watch the same TV show while you're in different places
Again, see the above comment.  I actually just did this with a few of my girlfriends watching the Lifetime movie Petals in the Wind.  It was hilarious to watch it and facebook messenger at
the same time.  When you have children, especially small children, you don't get to go see movies or watch TV together like you used to.  So we are always in different places. 

#6 Occupy certain positions and sides of the bed.
I feel that this is not a sign of a healthy relationship.  The bed is more a war zone at times than it is a place where we go to become a healthier happier couple.  I have my side, he has his.  If we could build the Berlin Wall of the Bedroom we totally would.  If his arm wanders over, I am totally poking him and shoving him over.  If I breathe in his face he is building a pillow barricade.  Don't even get me started on the blanket battles. 

#7 Use the bathroom together
How, HOW does this make you a happier couple??  I am sorry, but some things in life should remain a mystery, and for me, the potty is one.  I mean, it really is my ONLY sanctuary right now, so I value my time alone in the bathroom like, a lot.  I would have wine and cheese in there waiting for me with spa music playing if I could.  This is not something that makes you a healthy couple.  It is just Ew. 

#8  Snuggle.  

For the Admiral and I, this has never been a huge need.  I mean, we cuddle for a moment, and hug a lot, but I radiate heat.  I mean RADIATE.  I am like a freaking furnace.  And so is the Admiral.  So snuggling before we fall asleep is never comfortable.  My head gets sweaty, my neck hurts, his arm falls asleep, and it just isn't as fun as you think.  A long hug is about all we are good for, and it has always kind of been like that. 

#9  Pick where and what to eat together.
If the bed is a war zone, this is usually good starting battle.  Here is a little script of how this goes.

A:  What do you want to do about dinner?
M: I feel like getting sushi
A: No, I don't want that.  What else?
M: How about Olive Garden?
A: It is all carbs, I can't eat much there.  Where else?
M: (sighing) Ok, how about that steak house or that local restaurant that is all organic?
A: That is too expensive.
M: Well what do you want?
A: Mexican
M: We eat that EVERY TIME!!  I dont want that this time.  Why did you even ask me if you don't like any of my choices?
A: Just pick something.  Something else that isn't any of those other things you said.
M: Max and Erma's?
A: Ugh, we always go there....
M: Just choose, because you obviously don't like any of my ideas!  I don't even care anymore!!
A: Mexican it is....

#10  Make each other laugh
Ok, now this is one I actually do agree with.  For us, humor is super duper important.  We HAVE to laugh or otherwise things are going to get very very bad.  So when he is down down I make him laugh, and when I am down, he knows to stay the hell away from me for a while, or hand me some chocolate and wine, and tell me to go to bed.  See, this relationship works.

#11 Change clothes in front of each other.
I will be honest, this is something we do, only because most of the time we have to.  It has absolutely nothing to do with being in a healthy relationship or not, and it adds nothing to it.  I change in front of lots of people, I don't see it making my sister and I's relationship any better.

#12  Tolerate Aunt Flo
Ok., so I am not awesome when it comes to PMS.  I am emotional, and angry, and snippy.  The Admiral does one of two things: avoids me, or yells, "IS IT THAT TIME OF THE MONTH FOR YOU??"   To which then he knows that he is about to die, and then goes away and avoids me.  I do not expect him to do any of the following for me, (to quote the author ) "Ask if they need something, 'Do you want chocolate?  Do you have tampons? Compress warm enough? Feel sick?'"  Oh my word!!   I am woman enough to handle my own shiz, I don't need him babying me.  Every woman has to go through this, it doesn't mean you get card blanche to be a prissy little wuss about it.  Suck it up, do your job, get your own darn chocolate and tampons, and take a midol for heavens sake. 

#13 Choose good topics for date night
Like you are going to choose bad ones?  " Hey honey, so I guess this Ebola thing is really getting going....."  Yeah, that will set the mood. 

#14 Make pillow talk.
I can honestly say I am the world's fastest fall-a-sleeper.  Admiral timed me once, 5 minutes.  I hit that pillow after a long day and there is no talk, only sleep.  We try to get that talking in on the couch before bed or on date night, but even on the couch I fall asleep quickly or just want to be silent with my Kindle on Pinterest.  And date night, we are both pretty quiet because it is usually the most quiet we have heard in weeks.  We also joke about going out for date night and parking somewhere and just napping, and how awesome that would be. The author's last line is "And then you fall asleep in each other's arms."  Umm, see #8 on that one.  His side, my side. 

So you are probably thinking, "Tell me, what ARE the signs of healthy couples then?"  And my answer, "I don't know!!"  Every couple is different and what works for me doesn't work for you. And some couples just don't work!  I am not going think that what we do to make our marriage work is the end all be all for ALL healthy couples, because everyone is completely different.  But this is what has helped the Admiral and I stay married, and I think it goes a lot deeper than snuggling and getting me tampons.

1) Talk everyday at some point.  Even for just a few minutes, about anything. Even if it is, "hey, did you see what that chick that married George Clooney wore for the wedding?"
2) Really listen and don't always try to solve the other person's problem, unless they ask for it. 
3) Laugh.  At everything.  Even at yourself.  Even if you feel stupid.  Even if you are angry or sad, find some sort of funny in something.  You have to.
4) Don't keep score when it comes to chores, or romantic gestures.  There are times I do more, and times he does more.  It is not a competition. (Except I am totally winning.  Jk)
5)  Respect each other.  We do not post negative comments about each other on Facebook, or talk about each other to other people.  If there is a problem, we talk to each other.  If one or the other of is is being unreasonable, we wait a while and then talk about it again.  Don't get caught up in that 'don't go to bed angry' crap.  Sometimes the best thing I can do is sleep on it. (to which you know I am falling asleep in about a second flat and then won't care about the problem for a few hours)
6)  Be best friends.  I don't get caught up in the romantic gestures.  If I get flowers, awesome, if I don't, awesome, I will spend that money on shoes. 
7) Saying sorry does not make me any less than.  It just makes me wrong in that instance.  And being wrong is ok sometimes.  I don't make a habit of letting him know I feel that way, but it is a good model for our kids to know, if you are wrong, admit it and move on. 

8) Once you accept the other's apology, move on, and don't bring it back up again.  There is no satisfaction in reminding him how wrong he was..(even though he WAS wrong).  If you keep bringing it up it just hurts feelings.
9) Keep the thing about the thing. I say this all the time.  It is hard not to go out on tangets in an arguement, but if you keep the thing about the thing, it will be over with soooooo much faster.  I am still working on this.  "And you left all of those dishes in the sink, and didn't wash them off, and that makes me so mad.  Which reminds me, I can't believe that you spent all morning at the golf course last saturday and then went back again......"  Keep the thing about the thing.  One argument at a time.
10) Be a team.  Parenting is a long, very drawn out war.  It is you versus them.  You are much more likely to survive if you are a unified front.  Even if you are divorced or separated, co-parenting requires teamwork, or the natives will take over, and hold you hostage.  It is life and death.  Because eventually they will be grown ups one day, and in charge of taking care of YOU.  Our goal is that at least ONE of our kids will be responsible enough to let us live with them until we die....


So what we have learned about us as a couple in the last 18 years.  It works for us.  At least until the zombie apocalypse, in which case, I know we are screwed (The Admiral admits he will be the first to die), so I will be riding off into the sunset with Daryl.  I am so excited for The Walking Dead to start back again on Sunday!  (See, I have a hard time keeping the thing about the thing.)

Stranger Danger

Of all of my children, Little Man, my youngest, is going to be the one that does me in.

I don't know if it is because my attention has been stretched so far with this one so that he has had to rely on his own devices too many times, or if he was just born independant.  With Your Royal Highness, he was born 10 weeks early, and was in the NICU for a few weeks, so when he came home, it was all YRH all the time.  I never let that child out of my grasp, let alone my sight.  Now, I am not a helicopter mom by any means, but I am in his face a lot because I worry about him.  I have been worried about him from the beginning, so it has been ingrained in my relationship with him. 

With the twins it was different.  I was on point with them, but not so worried.  They were healthy babies and so it was a whole new experience.  I was still young enough to worry if they were breathing at night, but not so young and naive that I would wake them up like I did before, to make SURE they were breathing.  But at their ripe old age of 6 months old, I found out I was pregnant with Little Man, and EVERYTHING changed.  I relied on the Admiral way more to help than before.  Before I was too worried for the duties to be 50/50.  It was more like 85/15, and none of that was Admiral's fault, it was all wound-too-tight me.  But with the girls still not sleeping through the night yet, and pregnancy tired setting in, I needed more help. 

So then enter Little Man.  My 10 pound giant of a baby.  He was so adorable and cute, and FINE (no issues at all) and had such a laid back little disposition that I didn't worry about him too much at all.  Now he did start having issues with asthma at around 6 months old, so that was a little nerve wracking, but other than that and eczema, we were golden.  He slept through the night earlier, mostly because by now I had been getting up with babies for like a year and a half, and I was then chasing twin 21 month toddlers around the house and was too tired to hear him. But he was a very good baby.

Fast forward to him being about 15 months old. 

We took the whole family to the pumpkin patch to pick out their pumpkin.  Where we go is a farm that has acres and acres of land.  Tons of pumpkins among other things. We go out to the pumpkin patch part, and it is smack dab in the middle of the feild.  THe kids all vacate the wagon, and look around.  I look over, and Little Man has gotten himself out, and is not walking, but RUNNING down the isle of the field.  Just running.  Like he is running away.  I wait, because I figure, at some point he will turn around and be like, "Oh no, mommy is far away."  but he is getting farther and farther away.  I realize that he is not going to turn around ever.  The Admiral takes off after him and brings him back, and he has the look on his face upon his return as if his plans had been foiled.

Three months later....Christmas.

We go to the mall to get our annual picture with Santa.  The year before Little Man was just an infant, so he did not seem to care if it was Santa holding him or me, as long as he was warm and fed.  This particular year, the mall was packed.  It was a weekend, and it was stupid to try, but The Admiral had been working like crazy and it was the only time he had for us to go together.  We get to the line and it was like the scene from A Christmas Story, "The line stretched all the way back to Tara Haute".  We had a lot of waiting to do.  In the mean time, YRH was taking the twins down to at least SEE Santa with other kids so they would warm up to him before the big event.  Thubellina does not care for Santa.  So that was helpful.  I held the spot, and the Admiral was following Little man while he walked around the mall to burn off that never ending toddler need to roam.  After I get closer to the destination, The Admiral comes back with a look on his face that was half disbelief, and half amazement.  Here is his story:
" So I let Little man go, and he was going fast.  He was running.  I was getting tired, and thought 'I will just see how far he will go before he decides to turn around and look for me.'  He NEVER ONCE did.  He got a good 25-30 feet ahead of me, and turned the corner into JC Penny's.  So I ran ahead because I couldn't see him anymore, and he was just walking on, like he knew where he was going.  I finally grabbed him, but honestly, this kid doesn't care if we are there or not!" 



Last winter...

I take my kids to the library pretty regularly.  Up until recently I would keep Little Man in a stroller just for my own peace of mind.  This particular time I did not bring it, because honestly, the child is almost 3 by this time, and he should be able to handle quick outings without being contained.  I mean eventually he will grow out of the stroller and will need to know to stick with me.  Well we get there, and he takes off running as soon as we get in.  Mini Me looks at me, "Mooom.  Little man took off again.  That boy..."  and shakes her head.  Honestly it is scary how much this child is like me.  So I follow him at a quick clip and see him head to the children's section, (good, that is good) and there in the middle of the room is a group of very nice Asian (I want to say Japanese) women talking in a circle.  Little Man runs into the middle of them and with a huge smile on his face, shouts very loudly at them "Well hi!!!" 

These very nice ladies all laughed and said, "Oh, so cute." and patted him on the head.  I ran over, and said, "I am sorry.  Isn't it a shame how shy my son is?"  and pulled him away.  The looks they gave me told me that my sarcasm was slightly lost in the translation. 

Other incidents have happend on several occasions.  I can't even remember them all.  I will have to say, out of all of them, today takes the cake...

Again, at the library.

I have all of my own children, plus the 2 year old that I watch, and her little baby sister in a stroller with me.  We all make it into the library just fine.  They are all a few steps ahead of me, but walking and talking to each other.  I liberally lecture them before we go, "You must stay with me at all times.  You must always be able to see me.  You must never wander out of the children's section."  

We get there and there is a group from a preschool there doing some sort of project, but really that is about it.  So Mini me and toddler that I sit for make a bee line for the tablets they have available to play some games.  Thumbellina and Little Man are getting settled in to play some puzzels and magnet games. 

(Oh, I really need to preface this with the following:  Last week our theme for the week to study was dinosaurs.  All of a sudden little man has fallen in love with them  He wants to know what all of them are, their names, and what they eat.  Any time he sees one he gets very excited.)

So I start pushing the stroller up and down the isles looking for this week's theme, firefighters.  The shelves are short, so I can see over them, and watch the other kids.  There is also a librarian that sits at the entrance to the children's section, so no one can run away.  I love our library.  I go up and down looking for books, and then glance up at the kids: They are just as I left them.  So I go up another isle looking for books, glance back at the kids: just where I left them.  I go up a third isle, look for books, glance back up....no Little man.  Of course.  I look around for his little fuzzy towhead.  I see the librarian two isles over walking up the isle saying, "well they are here somewhere, let's find them."  with Little man following right behind her, with a very determined look on his face.  She stops and says, "Aha!  Here they are.  Let's get you set up at a table."  and takes him to a small table close by.  As she walks away, I head over to him.  On the table is a very large pile of books all about dinosaurs, and Little Man sitting there with a Cheshire cat-like smile on his face. 

I really don't know whether to be proud of him for taking the initiative to ask the librarian where to find books about dinosaurs, or be terrified that he would not only talk to a stranger, but willingly follow them wherever they want him to go!  I can see him now, some guy in a dirty, pervy looking van pulls up next to him and says, "Hey kid, I got some candy in the back of this van.  You want some?"  And Little Man saying, "Well, let's get in that van then!!!" 

This child scares the hell out of me....

I am not old, I am vintage

In May of next year I am going to be 39.

I know I know, I only look to be about 25, but it is the truth!  I am going to be 39.  There are certain aspects of getting older that I am completely in love with. 

I love that I am completely comfortable in my skin.  I know that I am far from being a super model.  I am not even at my goal weight yet, though I am doing that to be healthy more than the superficial aspect of it.  Who am I kidding, I want to look hot in a swim suit.  I want to be the hot mom at my kid's school.  So yes, by all means, I want to look better than I do.  However, I am completely fine with the way I look now as well.  I have given birth to 4 wonderful kids, the last of which was a complete Haas, at 10.3 pounds!  I have earned these extra few pounds, and stretch marks!  I am not self conscious of the cleavage I sport in my V neck T shirt like I did when I was in high school and college.  I flaunt it!  "Check it out world!  I have amazing boobs!  Gaze upon their glory!"

I also love that I like who I am as a person.  It has taken me a very very long time to get to know this person whom I call 'myself', and now that I have gotten to know me, I think I am pretty fantastic. It was not always like that though.  There was a long long time that I didn't like myself, and instead of being myself, I would try to be more like those around me, because that seemed to be better than who I actually was.   I would be quiet and not voice my own opinions on things because I didn't want to offend anyone by disagreeing with them.  Now that I am older, WHO CARES what other people think if they don't' agree with me!  I am loud and not shy to say what I feel.  When attending my weight watcher meetings I sit right up front, and am not shy to add my input to the conversation.  I will talk to complete strangers.  I will sing loudly with the windows down in my car.

There is so much I just absolutely love about my 30's.  You could not pay me enough money to go back to being a teenager, or a twenty-something.  No way.  Thirty has completely ruled!  So all of you twenty-somethings out there about to be thirty, don't worry, it is amazing!  You will love it!

There are, however,  some things that have started to happen in the last couple of years though, that are just some gentle reminders that I am not quite as young as I once was.  Here is my top 10:

1. Sitting on the floor for long periods of time have dire consequences. 
My kids are little, so they spend a great deal of time on the floor.  I mean, they are close to it, so it makes sense right?  As a good mom, I spend a great deal of time with them, which goes without saying where I spend it.  On the floor.  If I spend too much time on the floor, getting up is a whole other event.  My back, my knees, my ankles all sing the songs of their people with pops, and cracks and ticks as I rise.  Wrapping Christmas presents last year resulted in me walking like Igor from Frankenstein for the rest of the day.

2. Eating certain foods that I love to eat too close to bedtime can be a dicey game. 
I love popcorn.  And we also watch a lot of movies at night after the kids go to bed.  And I love to eat popcorn while watching movies.  But if I eat that buttery salty goodness too close to my bedtime, I will be up all night with heartburn so bad, I could breathe fire and take out a small village.  This also goes for pizza, buffalo wings, and ice cream.  (tear....)

3. I tell great stories, probably more that once, to the same person
I have mommy brain.  At least that is what I like to blame it on.  But I can only fool myself for so long by blaming it on that.  I have told my husband the same stories so many times, he has stopped reminding me that he already knows it, and just acts like he has never heard it before.  That my friends, is true love.

4.  I am no longer all that cool.
And really for the most part, I don't care so much.  But there are times, like when I am watching the Today show or something, and there is a huge crowd of people outside to see a music artist, and I am like, "Who the hell  is that?  I have never seen that person before.  Wait, he has like three  #1 hits on the radio?  How have I never heard of them??  Oh yeah, that is because I am too busy listening to Nirvana on the OLDIES STATION!!!"  Also, to add to that coolness factor I have going, I also have a flip phone.  A FLIP PHONE.   Honestly it isn't because I can't afford to get a smart phone, I am stubborn.  I am on my sister's plan, and I only pay like $20 a month for talk and text, and the phone I have has been dropped, flushed, chewed on, drooled on, stepped on, thrown, sat on, and almost garbage disposaled, and still works PERFECTLY.  I have a hard time getting rid of something that works just fine, even it if is dinosaur technology.  I will say though,  my mom has a newer phone than I do, and she is 80 years old!

5.  I go to bed alarmingly early.
I remember when I was little, my mom would make dinner, clean up, then sit down and fall asleep to the news.  I always laughed because I was ready to party until late in the night.  Now, I fix dinner, clean up, get the little ones in bed, and then fall asleep on the couch.

6.  Things that are ridiculously mundane get me excited.
New appliances, WHOO HOO!!  New curtains?  YIPPEE!!  Kitchen gadgets isle at Target?  Let me at it!!!  I will spend an hour in there!  And don't' get me started with bedding and linens!  I used to abhor shopping for that junk with my mom.  Now it is my favorite.  My younger me is shaking her head at me sadly, saying, "what happened to you?"

7.  Large crowds are annoying

I was never one to shy away from large events. Black Friday, concerts, festivals, large parties....I loved going!  Now I will think about going to the fireworks downtown in our capital, and say, "well, the traffic will be bad, and i don't want to use a port o potty."  Or for black Friday, "Well, all of the good deals are so early in the morning, and I am so grumpy if I don't get a good night's sleep.  I will just pay full price. Or better yet, my sister is going, I will see if she can pick it up for me...."  Mostly it is because I have gotten to be so outspoken that I can't keep my mouth shut with pushy or annoying people.  I actually said to a woman who smacked her kid in the face, (a complete stranger!) and then yelled at her kid to quit crying, "Well, you see, when you hit a kid they usually cry about that."  I am afraid if I go into a big crowd I am going to get my ass kicked.

8.Thanks to my kids my I have no control over my bladder.
So I didn't realize that even if you do not have a V-back birth, you can still get incontinence.  Did you?  Well it was a shock to me as well!  But apparently, if you have 10 pound twins sitting on top of your bladder, and then another 10.3 pound baby sitting on top of your bladder less than a year after that, it puts tremendous pressure on your body, so after the babies are born, every time you sneeze too hard, or cough too much, or laugh too hard, your body will just go ahead and pee a little, even if you try really hard to hold it!  I know my friends who have had v-back births have the same issue, but I thought I was safe with a C-section for all 4 of my darlings.  And now both God and my doctor laugh....

9.  Awesome little surprises around every corner of my face
 I recently made the mistake of looking into my niece's magnifying mirror.  HOLY LORD!!  What the what is going on there???  I have peach fuzz all over, small dark hairs growing out of any and every nook and cranny, and wrinkles!  When did I get wrinkles??  I stay out of the sun, put SPF 1000 on my face, and basically act like a vampire for the most part of summer, but there is no denying it.  The wrinkles are there!  I had a girlfriend tell me that her child pointed out the other day, very loudly, in public "Mommy, you are getting a beard!"  Awesome......

10. I can no longer sleep all night without some kind of interruption
I remember back in the day being able to sleep all night long, blissfully unaware of what was going on in the world around me.  Now I am up at least once, if not more than once a night for various reasons.  Someone had a bad dream, someone is afraid of the storm, someone is sure there is a monster, ghost, boogeyman in their room and needs mommy to take care of it.  Unfortunately not all of them are due to the kids.  Getting up to go to the bathroom, waking up because I hear a noise (of which I was never aware of noises in the night until I had kids and HAD to be aware of noises in the night), getting up because I remembered something I forgot, waking up thinking about something I need to do, waking up due to heartburn, or just go ole insomnia because I had too much caffeine, or sugar or not enough down time, or too many problems to think about....whatever the case is, I can't make it a whole night without waking up. I don't know what my body would even do if I had a whole night's rest. 

I will say it again, I have loved my thirties.  I do not miss the drama of teens and twenties.  But if I could have the body (and sleep habits) of my teens and twenties, and the mind of my thirties....I could quite possibly take over the world....

A love letter to my friends struggling

I am not going to lie.  This is not going to be a funny post.  After much talk of suicide on the news, and then more tradgedy with friends from my past in the last few weeks, I felt the need to say some things that were on my heart.

  I have not always been a mom.  I really think that goes without saying.  But I haven't.  Some days it feels like I have always been a mom.  But then there are days, like today, that I remember what it was like to only be responsible for myself, and it makes me all nostalgic.

After college, I was trying to find myself.  I think that at some point we all do it.  Most people get over it at some point in college, that whole, "what do I want to be when I grow up" sort of thing.  I didn't even know what I wanted to major in for a long time, until I finally settled on music just because I had always done music, and it wasn't the worst subject to study in the world.  I liked to sing, and play my clarient, so it was kind of an organic sort of major choosing. But even then I didn't really 'find myself' in that.

It wasn't until I was living with my sister while the Admiral was off in the Navy doing his overseas WestPAC, that I found my occupational calling.  My sister was having twins, and needed a nanny.  This is where some of my humor comes from, because honestly, up until this time, I knew ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about babies.  I was the baby of the family, so I never had any experience with babies.  I babysat a lot in high school, but that was for a 5 year old, not a baby.  And so here I am with not only one infant, but two!  I got a crash course while my sister was on maternity leave in baby care.  How to hold them, how to change them, how to burp them just right.  And had I not had a sense of humor, I don't know that I would have made it.  Poop explosions, projectile vomiting, enough drool to fill a swiming pool...oh my goodness.  It was one gross thing after another.

One particular night after trying to be a regular twenty something, I had gone out with my friends, and was extremely hungover.  I got up at 6 am, and starting getting the little fellas ready for the day.  My sister had laid out their food for the day.  Lunch was the thing that caught my eye, green peas.   I was not looking forward to this.  They ate breakfast, and I choked down some Gatorade.  They played on the floor and in the bouncer.  Then the time was nigh.  Lunch.  I sat them in their seats, and just then my friend came up from the basement where my living space was.  She had spent the night.  We looked at each other and she said, "Oh no.  Peas.  That looks awful." I said, "Mmm hmm."  I opened the jar and put some on the baby spoon for my first nephew.  He took a mouthful, and promptly spit it out all down his chin.  The party from last night started to make a return visit, and I ran to the bathroom.  My friend said, "Imma gonna go now.  Have fun!"  and left.  (Now she did make a return visit, and left me with pringles and more Gatorade.  I think the guilt from ditching me came back to her.).  And when I came back, I finished feeding them.  I started laughing, because I just KNEW my sister probably laid that out for lunch knowing full well how gross that would be to feed them after a night out.  I laughed and laughed.  That is when I knew ,if I could handle the gross, the vile, the body fluids, and the yuck, and still be able to laugh about it, and find the humor in it.......  then this is my calling, and everything was going to be ok.

I immediately went back to school and changed my major to Early Childhood Development.  I got a job as a preschool teacher, and fell immediatly in LOVE with it.  It was crazy and chaotic, just like my mind.  I didn't have to sit still at a desk, or be too organized.  I could play with toys and be silly, and sing just because the mood struck me.  And guess what?  Little people think I am HILARIOUS!  It doesn't matter how bad the joke is, they laugh!

I taught for 6 years, before I got pregnant, and had my first baby.  He came 10 weeks early, and was so little, I just couldn't go back to work.  I stayed home and after he was a little bigger and stronger, I started my own daycare.  After about a year, the wheels all came off.   Admiral and I had hit after hit.  My husband lost his job, we lost our insurance with it.  We were broke.  We also had one of those balloon mortgages, and when we refinanced to try to pay off some of the debt so we could make ends meet, the mortgage broker screwed us.  We ended up owing thousands of dollars in back taxes because of her mistake.  Admiral was looking and looking for work, but just wasn't finding anything, much like the rest of the country at the time.  I was going to have to go find some work somewhere, with good insurance to help keep us afloat.  My sister (the same one, she really needs s super hero's cape, because she is amazing), got me a job at her ophthalmologist office that she works for.  I was going to be an optician. 

Let me just say, I do not like grown ups very much at all.  They can be real jerks.  The women I worked with, however, were amazing.  My manager, made me laugh so much, and the girls I worked with helped to make the days fly by.

One day I had a particularly irritating customer.  I was trying like heck to charm this person, because she was just so grumpy!  I can't even describe the level of grumpy this woman was.  It was actually quite amazing.  My goal was to make her smile at least once while she was there.  It did not happen.   She left without one single smile, or nice thing to say.  I went back into the optical office where my manager and the other opticians were, and said, (forgive me mom, please just bleep the next part.)  "I don't get it!  She didn't like me!  How can she not like me? Everyone likes me!  I am fucking delightful!!"  The whole room froze, and then burst out in peals of laughter.  My manager got red in the face laughing so hard, and was gasping, "oh my god, you said you were fucking delightful!!  Bahahahaha!!!!!"  I kind of pouted a little and said, "Well I am."  which made them laugh even harder.  We are still friends to this day, and this does come up in conversation quite often.

After my husband found another job, and things weren't quite so dire anymore, I was able to get out of survival mode, and really take a look at what I was doing.  I was not enjoying the patients as a whole.  I was living for Friday when it was pediatric day and the kids would come in.  So after 9 months of trying out something else, I had to go back to my love.  Little kids.

I am not going to get into the details about the other schools I worked for, it is all very long and drawn out and dramatic, but I will sum up.  Basically, the first school I ever worked for, before I had Your royal highness,  was the most fun, and best and most awesome.  Best staff, and most wonderful administrator I have ever in my life been with.  None of the other schools ever compared.  But I will say the only thing that trumps that, is what I am doing now.  I get paid, to stay at home in my yoga pants, play with my own children, plus two of the most adorable little kids ever, and teach them stuff!

 I know this isn't one of my funny posts, or even a rant, but it is true.  Now, don't get me wrong,  it is not perfect. There are days that seem to just drag on and on.  There are mornings that I don't want to get out of bed, and the baby is crying most of the day, and my kids are all fighting with each other, or I am incredibly lonely with only myself as an adult to talk to.  But even on the bad days, it is better than being with some grouchy old lady who doesn't appreciate how effing delightful I am!  The kids laugh at my jokes, they love me unconditionally, I get hugs all day!!  It is the best job in the world, and it is mine.  The pay may not be great, but the benefits are priceless.

Parents out there. you have a most amazing job.  And it is hard, and there are long days, and you are going to be stretched to your limits in patience and calm, and resilience.  The times are not always fun, and the kids are not always saying funny things.  You will not always be the picture perfect parent like you see on TV.  You will make mistakes.  You will see gross stuff you never thought you would see, and say things you never thought would ever come out of your mouth.  It is super hard to remember when you are in the thick of it, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week in Romper room,  that there is an end to it down the road.  They will grow up, and you blink and they are in elementary school, and you blink again and they are in middle school.  I am afraid to blink again and they will be in high school and then off to college where they won't be home for me to rant about anymore.  Then the only one at home I will be able to rant about is the Admiral (Now, it goes with out saying that he is awesome, but I am sure there are plenty of things I will be able to rant about him as an empty nester.  Stay tuned). 

Hard times happen, but life moves on.  You will have ebbing and flowing of income, you will have tragic moments.  But in the middle of all of that is where life happens.  The hard times are what make you grow as a person.  Inside the struggle is what makes you who you are, and the way you handle the struggle is what shows your character, your places for growth, and your strength.

Be strong my friends, and know you are not alone.  No moment lasts forever. 

In suuuuummmer!!!!

I told you all in the last post that I really really suck at the whole blogging thing in the summer time.  I just can't seem to get my butt in gear to get it done!  Not that I am not thinking about it, or even because I am too busy.  No, it is because I am so off schedule and lazy.  How pathetic is that?  I am too lazy to sit at my computer and rant.

But it isn't just the blogging that goes off kilter.  I seriously am glad to be back to work because the lives of my children and any semblance of a schedule was completely gone.  Our usual schedule is a beautiful one.  With lots of time for the kids to play, and be creative, mixed with things they need to do. Here is my day during the school year:

6:00 I wakes up, make coffee, troll facebook, and get my wits about me
6:30 Kids wake up, and pull ups are changed, breakfast is started (usually eggs and toast, or something hearty)
6:45 Kids that I sit for arrive and all sit down to eat breakfast
7:30  Your Royal Highness is off to school, we head to playroom for morning free time/ I sit and finish coffee and watch the news
9:00 Snack time
9:30 Play outside
10:00 story time/ learning activity/ crafts
11:00 lunch
12:00 Nap begins/lunch for me then clean the house
2:30 Kids wake up/snacktime
3:00 Play outside/Your Royal Highness returns from school and does homework
4:00 Head to playroom to clean up from the day
4:30 kids that I watch are picked up/I start making dinner
5:30 Dinner
6:00 Admiral takes kids while I clean up dinner mess
6:30 Play outside
7:00 Snack
8:00 Story/brush teeth/ kisses good night
8:30 attempt to watch TV while subsequently yelling at kids to go back to bed (aka whack a mole)
9:00 Whack a mole is over, and send Your royal highness up to read
9:30 kiss Your royal highness good night
10:30-11 Admiral and I off to bed


Now of course there are minor variations, but for heavens sake, that is a pretty awesome schedule,

wouldn't you say?  I have all of the ducks aligned, and the stars in a row.

Here is my schedule we had for the summer:

7:00ish I wake up because a child is awake and so I should get up so that they don't destroy the house
8:00 Admiral asks if I have made coffee yet
8:30 Make breakfast, usually just cereal or something that can go in the microwave
9:00  I realize I should probably get the kids out of their pajamas at some point.
9:30 Decide that today will just have to be pajama day until we have to go somewhere.
10:00 Snack for littles, and breakfast for your royal highness because he just got out of bed
10:30 The fighting is getting on my nerves, decided we need to get out of the house.  Get kids dressed, Your royal highness whines because he just woke up and doesn't want to go anywhere.
12:00 Decide to go to the pool
1:00 At the pool remember we haven't eaten lunch.  Order crap from the snack bar.
1:30 Head home for nap
2:00 Take a nap with the kids.  Wake up after 5 minutes in a panic because the house looks awful and we have friends coming for a playdate tomorrow.
2:05 Start cleaning like a madwoman
3:00 Wake up the kids because if they sleep any later they will not go to bed at night. As a result, very crabby kids
4:00 Take kids outside to play, force your royal highness to go outside.  He goes out and sits on the porch with his Ipod.  Decide that this is ok, because at least he is outside
5:00 Start dinner

6:00 Eat dinner/ Admiral takes kids outside/ I clean up dishes and take my time because I really don't want to go back out there with them.  I have just about had enough of them for the day.
7:00 snack.  Yes it is only an hour after dinner, but the kids did not eat their dinner anyway, so they are hungry.
7:30 pajamas/story/teeth brushed/bedtime
8:00 Try to watch TV while playing whack a mole
9:00 still playing whack a mole
9:45 Take one of the girls into our room because they are just refusing to sleep, which is my fault for nap being so late.  This results in a huge tantrum
10:00 Tantrum is over, girl back in bed, both now asleep.  Send up Your royal highness to read, to which he replies he is so tired and he will read double tomorrow (yeah right).
10:30 Admiral looks at me and says, " I am so tired. I am going to bed. You coming?" I then wake up from my nap on the couch and say "Sure".  I barely brush my teeth and fall immediately to sleep.

For my sake and the sake of others around me, I am very happy we are back to normal. 

WTH just happened there?

Two nights ago I went to my son's 6th grade curriculum night.

What. The. Hell...

Waaaay back in 1989, when I was in middle school, I can remember my dad going with me to curriculm night.  We all had to go with our parents, and they walked with us class to class, and got to see what we were going to be doing.  It was fun, and gave my parents some insight into my day.  But at the end of the day it was my responsibility to get my crap done, keep my grades up, and turn my stuff in on time.

Oh my how times have changed dear readers.

I should have known that I was in trouble when on the first day of school they sent home a note about getting on the school's website on Schoology.  Schoology is kind of like facebook for school.  You have to have an account and Log in and password, but once you are on, it is kind of nice.  All of the teachers post the homework, and what they did in class that day, so when I ask the question to Your Royal Highness "What did you do today?"  and I get the requisite answer of "Nothing" from him, I can go on and see that, yes, indeed, he is learning while he is there at some point in the day.  Cool.  However the fact that they want the parents so keyed in to the goings ons in the school, should have been my foreshadowing.  Then later that day,  I started getting daily emails from the school about events that were going on.  Daily, people.  As in every day at 3pm I get a ping in my inbox from his middle school.

So I leave to go to curriculum night, no kids allowed,  15 minutes early, thinking, I better get there a little early, because I will need a parking spot.  I go, and I still end up having to walk 15 miles to the school.  I am almost excited for high school simply because there will be ample parking for parent stuff.  I go in, find the library and make my way to the back, as all of the chairs are pretty much full.  We also just moved here, so I only know like one other person, and she wasn't there yet.  So I found a mom sitting there alone and thought, "well, maybe she would like a friend.."  So I ask if that seat was taken, and she says, "No." I sit down and try to make small talk.  She is obviously good on friends and doesn't need another one, so I just look through the packet I was given at the door.  Stupid me trying to be friendly.  (Side rant:  You know, I have always been really good about making friends.  I usually make friends everywhere I go, because I don't know how to shut up for 5 seconds, so I talk to everyone.  Walking in to this school it feels like obviously everyone knows someone, and I don't know anyone, so I feel like I am in middle school all over again myself.  I just want to find the coolest mom and walk up to them and be like, "You're going down chicka" and take a swing at them so that they know I am not to be messed with.  Oh wait, that wouldn't be middle school.  That would be prison.  I have been watching way too much Orange is the new Black lately.  Sorry.  Back to original rant)

The meeting starts, and all of the teachers for our team get up there, and each goes over what they are going to be covering in their class.  I am immediately aware that I am unprepared.  I didn't bring a pen, and they are giving us a whole  lot of info that is not on the packet.  But halallujah!!  My friend, I will call her Barbra, just walked in and has her purse and whips out a pen almost before I could ask.  See, she knows me.  We are all writing furiously,  testing dates and expectations, and then they start telling us websites that we need to know.

*record scratching*

Wha-what??  Why do I need to get on the computer for more than Schoology?   What is Powerschool?  Why do I need that?  YRH should need it, I shouldn't need it, right?  Online textbooks???  What are you talking about, won't he just bring one home?  Oh, you don't have a physical textbook.  Oh I see.  We have to get online to read the textbook.  Crap.  Ok, So I write down the info to get in on that.  I hear one teacher say, "We encourage kids to bring their electronic devices to use them in class to look up information."  Now wait a minute, Huh???  I have been told for the last 5 years to leave all devices at home!  Now he is encouraged to bring them?  He has an IPOD 4, which is like older than dirt, I think they are on 7 now or something.  We can afford to get him a better one, but WHY?  That one works, and he already has a crack in it because he obviously isn't all that responsible.  Now I feel like I need to get him something better to keep up with school.  I DON"T EVEN HAVE A SMARTPHONE! Why on earth would I get my child something better than what I have?  But never the less, here we are.  We finish up and Barbra and I head over the the Cafeteria for Unified Arts info.

On the table is a bookmark shaped thing that has all of these websites that apparently we need, and none of them are the same as the ones I just copied down in the last room.  Awesome.  More
technology.  The Librarian gets up there:

"Hi there, welcome.  I am the Librarian.  You can follow me on Twitter at _____________ or on our other Twitter feed at _____________, you can also follow some of what we do on Instagram at ___________ and we post pictures.  We are also doing 10 minutes a day school wide reading session that you can read more about on our library website at ____________"  Then the Academic Lab teacher gets up there, and goes, "Here are the sites you will want for your kids through the duration of their time here.  Google drive will have all of your spreadsheets, word processing, graphs, formulas, PowerPoint.....but you can also use Haiku Deck or Prezi, whichever one you are more comfortable with......."  It is about this time that my mouth drops open, and I quit writing entirely because my brain has just gone into survival mode.  All it can think is ,'breathe in .....breathe out.....breathe in.....breathe out......'

Before I know it, it is all over, and I look over at Barbra who has about the same look on her face.  She looks at me and says, "are you ok?"  I furrow my brow at her and say, "Yeah, what just happened there?"  She laughed (she also reads this..so why Barbra, why did you laugh?  You were in that room with me.....how did your brain not also explode?)  and she said, " I gotta go meet up with that guy, I will see you later."

I start walking back to my car, and the entire time I am walking my brain is just repeating the same mantra, "What the hell just happened?"  I arrived at my car, I don't remember how I got there, but I did.  I immediately call my sister,

"Hey T!  How are you?"
" I did 6th grade, right?  I mean, I passed?  I did 6th grade.  I got all A's and B's, I was an Honor roll student.  I did my time.  I don't do 6th grade anymore, he does 6th grade.  I don't do school, he does school.  I did school.  I am done with school.  He does school."  She laughs, (again, WHY?)  and says, "What happened?" 
"I have to get a Twitter account."
"Why?"
"So I can know what they are doing in the library."
"Why do you need to know what they are doing in the library?"
"I don't know, but it has to be important because it is on Twitter.  I also have to get Instagram."
"Why on earth do you need Instagram?"
"Because the school posts things on there."
"And you can't get this information anywhere else?"
"Apparently not.  Oh, and I apparently also need to know Google Drive to get spreadsheets and PowerPoint."
"YOU have to do PowerPoint?  Why do you have to do powerpoint?  Doesn't YRH need to do that?"
"No, they said I needed to know this stuff so apparently I need to make a powerpoint presentation for conferences.  But I can use Haiku Deck or Prezi as well, whatever I am most comfortable with."
"You don't even have a smartphone."
"Probably never will because I now have to get my son an IPad and an Iphone because his education is more important than me having a smartphone and all I will ever have in life is a flip phone.  Ever."


Dear readers, I share all of this with you to say this..... What the hell is Prezi or Haiku Deck???????  Anyone????