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????

Too school for Cool

My dear readers, I am so sorry it has been so long since I have posted.  I have learned something about myself this summer.  I can't get anything done when Your Royal Highness is home.  Something about wanting to go do stuff since I don't have any kids to babysit other than my own.  We spent a lot of time at the pool and at the zoo, and so I was MIA for the summer.  Now I know, I own it, and we have an understanding.  I just can not be responsible enough to be required to do anything in the summer.

But I do have a wonderful little story for you that will make you feel much better about yourself.

I am officially the most embarrassing mom at Your Royal Highness's middle school.

My precious little pearl started middle school this week.  6th grade.  I am all anxious and tied up in knots for him.  I did not have the best middle school experience.  I was so awkward, and I was picked on a lot by some boys because i was kinda dorky looking, and I did not have great social graces.  I was not, shall we say, COOL by any means.  To my friends who were friends with me back then, you are amazing people.  Anyway, I did not have a fun time, and I am just a hot mess about the boy being in middle school.  I keep trying to give him cool comebacks when kids talk smack to him, (I can do that now, I am a lot funnier now), and try to teach him how to own any mistakes he makes so that he looks less awkward that I was.

Let's play Where is Waldo??  This is me in 6th grade, in the red striped shirt.  Yikes!

So the kid had orientation last week.  Parents were not allowed to be there.  So here I am dropping my big boy off with friends at the school, just praying he doesn't get swallowed alive.  The directions to us as parents, "Drop off is in the back of the building, pick up is in the front."  After dropoff, I parked the car around front to go in and pick up his school supplies that i had ordered.  I went in, and when the lady hands me the box, she says, "Now some parents pick up their child and just take the supplies right up to their locker so they don' have to carry them to school on the first day."  I said, "ok" and left.  I knew I better just do what they school directed or YRH would get confused.

I come back with my little ones 20 minutes early, so I could get a good spot right in front of the school, so he would see me.  The time arrives, kids file out, no YRH.  Parents with supplies go in, more kids file out, no YRH.  It is now 20 minutes AFTER they were to be released, No YRH.  I am right in front of the door!  I gave him 5 more minutes thinking he was having issues with his locker, or schedule, or something.  No YRH.  Finally I walk up to the door, and open it.  He is RIGHT FREAKING THERE!  Talking to a friend animatedly, and smiling.  He sees me and runs over, quickly changing his expression to one of worry, "Where were you???  I thought you forgot about me!"  I ushered him into the car, and explained that if he would have come OUTSIDE like he was SUPPOSED TO, or even just LOOKED OUT THE FRIGGIN DOOR, he would have seen me sitting there.

So we start to talk about orientation.

ME: "Did you get your schedule?"
YRH: "Yep, here." hands it to me.
ME:"Did you get your bus info?"
YRH:"No.  It says you can just call."
ME:"They didn't' have a list there?"
YRH:"Yes, but you can just call to get it."
ME: "Seriously??  You could have asked the guy!!  Now I have a chore to do!  Did you see where your classes were"
YRH: "No, They couldn't find my schedule.  They had to go print out another one."
ME: "Well did you at least go see where your locker was?"
YRH: "No, there were a lot of people down that hallway. It was crowded."
Me: (Shaking my head)  Your whole job was to find this stuff man!!  What did you do the whole time.
YRH: Nothin....

Turns out, he was in the wrong room for orientation, and that is why they didn't have the right information for him.  HE WAS IN THE WRONG ROOM.

Let me then fast forward to yesterday.

First day of school.  I had nightmares all night about waking up late, and losing his schedule, missing the bus, all sorts of bad things.  I was tired when I woke up.  We get him ready and send him off in all of the first day of school pomp and circumstance (picture on the front step, big breakfast, ect.).

His bus for the morning was one number.  His bus for the afternoon to come home is a whole other number.  I remind him of this as he leaves.  He bus is due home at 3:01pm.

2:55, I am changing the diaper of one of the kids I babysit for, when I see a bus drive by.  I did not

see the number because I was turned away from it, but I figure, "Oh, well, must be a little early today."  I wait, No YRH.  I look out the door, no YRH.  Oh crap.

 "He missed the bus."

I hurry and call the bus garage, "My son did not get off of his bus."  I gave her all of the important details, name, class, school, bus he was supposed to be on.  She puts me on hold for what feels like FOREVER, and finally comes back, "Your son is on the bus.  That was the high school bus that you just saw."  "Oh, ok.  Sorry about that."

My son storms in the door 15 minutes later (and about 10 minutes later than what  the schedule says)  "Mom, did you call the bus garage??"  I stared at him innocently.  "Yes, I thought you missed the bus.  Why?"  "Well, we were late getting home because they had to radio EVERY SINGLE BUS to see "is YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS on this bus? His mom is worried he was on the wrong bus."  I gulped. "Every bus?  can you hear what they say on the radio?  Is it loud?"  "Yeah it is loud! I was in the back and heard it!"

Nothing like starting my boy out in middle school on the right foot.  I am sure he is so cool now!

My rules for keeping it civilized at the public pool

We are currently members of our subdivision's country club.  I am not saying this to be snobbish in any way, in fact the only reason we became members at all was because it was only $100 more for the whole membership than it was to just belong to the pool, which was what we really wanted.  The pool.  We just really wanted the pool.

You see, in our old house we had the city pool right down the road, and it was always crazy busy and the toddler pool was not enclosed at all.  With three toddlers, they tend to not stay together all that well. There is no such thing as the buddy system with preshoolers.  So someone was always trying to drown themselves in the big pool with the big kids.  I also didn't like the dynamic of our old city pool.  It always felt like a giant free for all with the kids, and a beauty pageant swim suit event with the moms.  There was a big green space with chairs that always felt to me like it was too far away to actually watch the kids, so in order to watch you child, you had to actually get in the pool.  Now I like swimming and all, but when I take my kids to the pool, I am in effect playing lifeguard, so I am not there to float.  I am there to watch, with hawkeyes, that none of my precious ones drown.  So we never got a membership to the city pool, because really, it scared the crap out of me.  That, and the fact that there were not a whole lot of plus size mommas in our old neighborhood, and I felt a little awkward in my athletic shorts and t shirt, while they all stood around looking pretty,  chatting to each other. (Probably about how beautiful and thin they were.)

Now here at the country club, it seems like there is a bigger mix of body types, and parenting styles.

The pool was never safer...

There is no giant green space, so there are chairs lining the rim of the entire pool.  And the best part, the toddler pool, is completely enclosed with a latching gate, so I can sit on the edge, while my kids splash around with their pool toys, and subsequently keep an eye on your royal highness in the big pool as he jumps off of the diving board.  No kids will drown with me on duty! And the best part is, I have YET to see a bikini that is not on a teenage girl!  There is an equal mix of moms who swim and do not swim, and most of these moms are actually watching their children, so it doesn't have that "buffy and muffy" feel to it.  These are real people, and most of them so far have been extremely nice. 

That being said, there are a few things that do annoy the heck out of me, despite us being at the city pool or country club, or even the beach or campground (ha, like I ever go to a campground!).  No matter where you go, there is a universal douchey-ness that tends to follow you anywhere.  Here is my list of what you should avoid if you want to be a civilized-thinking-of-others-non-douchey person:

1) Please apply spray sunscreen at home, in the parking lot, or other non populated area.  This is doubly true on a windy type day.  Look, I know they are super convienent.  Lord knows I use the stuff all the time on my little ones, because it is that much quicker and my hands are that much less greasy afterward.  But for God's sake, we do not want to inhale your sunscreen.  I like the taste of my yummy margarita that I bought (one wonderful perk to the country club vs the city pool....booze), I do not like the taste of it mixed with sunscreen you sprayed directly into my face. 

2) Please look at the age limit on the toddler pool.  It is so completely uncool that as soon as that whistle blows for break time,  to allow your child (or children, or children and friends) to jump out of the water, and immediately haul tail over to the wading pool and jump in, and splash and make big waves that knock over my kids who have until this point been playing very nicely with the other babies in the pool that you have now knocked over.  How about make them take a bathroom break so they don't add to the pee that is already in the water.  And not only are they here, but you are no where to be seen, so they are completely unsupervised.  Which leads me to ...

3) Please do not allow your child to snatch toys from my kids hands.  I bring bags and bags of toys to the pool.  Barbies, cups, bowls, plastic fish, boats, you name it.  And I am completely fine with your child playing with any of the things that my kids are not using at the time.  But if my son is playing with two bowls, a cup and a fish, please do not allow you child (most often the one that you allowed to come in here during break time to play and who then will leave again as soon as that whistle blows, the one you are not watching and are not even in eye-site of, the one who is most likely 8 or 9 years old in a toddler pool) to take one of those things, causing me to have to be the one to reprimand them.  I am there to watch my kids, not yours.  I watch enough kids during the school year, I am off in the summers.  Unless you want to pay me, and then my hourly rate is $10 an hour per kid.

4) Please please please don't let your kid splash me (or laugh when they do it).  As I stated before, I do not come to the pool to swim.  I am there to prevent my kids from drowning.  Now I go with the knowledge that splashing happens and I will get sprinkled.  But if you do not stop your kid from shooting me with that water squirt-er right in the butt, so help me God, I am going to tell him there is no Santa right then and there. Then you are going to have some explaining to do....

5) If you are a teenager, please be aware that there are smallish children around you, and quit

making out with your boyfriend/girlfriend/whatever right there in front of them.  I do not want to have to explain the finer points of procreation to them at the pool, at the age of 3 and 4.  This is a family place.  So save it for the privacy of the backseat of  a car off the side of the road somewhere, as respectable kids like myself did back in the day.   Because honestly if you don't stop making out by my family, I am going to go put on my bathing suit, and I promise you, after having 4 kids, that is going to be like throwing a cup of cold water on the mood you were in right there. 

So there you have it.  My list to help us all get along at the pool. If you stick to this, we should all make it through this summer, and still like each other by the end of it.