Can I Marry You?

After watching Cinderella, Girlie told me that now Cinderella is married and the king has a married daughter.  I explained that Cinderella was the king's daughter in law.  Then I had to explain what "in law" meant.

Girlie and Boyo both thought that over for a minute, and then Girlie asked if she could marry Daddy.

I smiled and said, "Sorry, kiddo, he's taken."

"Yeah," Boyo chimed in.  "He's awready mawwied to Mommy."

"Okay," Girlie said, deep in thought.  "Then can I marry Boyo?  That way he will just be your son, not your son in law."

Boyo looked at his Daddy, very, very worried.  "Daddy, can I marry you?" he asked.

"Sure," my husband said, trying not to laugh.

"Why don't you want to marry your sister?" I asked him.

"Because she bosses me," Boyo sighed.

"Buddy, I need to explain marriage to you," my husband told him. 

Wordless Wednesday: This ISN'T my big girl bed?!

Husband-isms

~
Me: "I'm sorry that this pregnancy is making me crazier than normal."
Hubs: "I'm sorry I'm not putting up with your bullsh@# anymore."

~
Hubs: "I don't care who gets the damn balloon!  Just fight about it silently!"

~
Hubs (at 2 in the morning to me): "The boy is calling you."
Boyo (from down the hall): "No, I NOT!  I CALLING DADDY!"
Hubs (to me): "And you are SURE he's mine?"

~
Feeling the baby move the other day, my husband looked at me concerned: "What body part is that?" he asked.  "Her horns?" 

~

"Do you ever feel like the intelligence level for this country has been set to easy?"

~

Our AC broke.  During a day that was 104 FREAKING degrees out.  I was a little pissed to say the least.

I asked my husband what the hell we were planning, getting pregnant when I would be at my most pregnant during the hottest part of the year.

My husband laughed in my face: "What plan?!!"  

~

Every morning my husband irons his shirt before work. The sound of the ironing board always wakes me up, which is really irritating.  When I mentioned this to my husband, he replied with, "Well, you could do the ironing during the day...."

I'm still laughing at him.

SOCKS!

Summer's over.

School's in session.

And yes, I'm ecstatic about that.  But there is a fly in my ointment.

The kids have to wear shoes and socks to school.

I freakin' hate socks.

Why?

Because they are EVERYWHERE.


In my car.  On the stairs.  On my bed.  On the table.  On the stoop.  In the playroom.  In the bathroom.  In the shoe box.  In my kitchen cupboard -- yeah, I don't know either.

I AM NOT THE SOCK FAIRY!!!!!!!!

Where are they not?

On feet.  Or in the hamper.

But you know what is worse than socks everywhere?

Finding an odd number. 

Wordless Wednesday: Celebrating Being The Oldest for a Change. With Donuts.

Happy Constitution Day!

I'm a big believer in doing your civic duty -- I mean, I teach American Government.  

I watch CSPAN for fun.  

I bake a birthday cake for the United States every year on the Fourth of July. 

 I get a twitch in my left eye when people tell me they don't vote.  

I see red when people tell me they vote but that they don't really understand the issues or do the research about the propositions.

I volunteer on campaigns.

I get so excited on Election Day that I actually vibrate with excitement.

And I have kids.  

So naturally, I have to teach them to do their civic duty.  Who cares if they are all under 6?

I just try to explain it to them in terms that they understand.

Today is Constitution Day.  I told them that it was the Constitution's birthday.

Girlie immediately asked what a "Constellation" was.

Boyo corrected her -- not a "Constellation" a "Constilotion."

I took a deep breath and counted to five.  

And then I taught them not only how to say Constitution but also that it was rules for the people who live in America.

Girlie informed me that America has a flag.  

Boyo told me he wanted a flag.

I explained to them that America was the country we lived in.

Boyo got hopeful and asked if we were going to have a birthday party again.

I said, sure, why not.  

So we had an under-six-oriented birthday party to celebrate Constitution Day.

We watched Schoolhouse Rock, Election Edition....

  

... We made pizza for dinner...

... And we ate birthday cake.... 

... but we did not sing Happy Birthday.  I fell down on the job.

Guess What This Is A Picture Of....

Yes, my wedding ring.

In my seatbelt clicker thingy majig.

After frantically searching my car for my ring, I happened to see it shining up through the grace of God and my garage door opener light.

I texted my husband and told him I lost my ring, but I found it.  But I couldn't get it out.

I could practically hear him sighing and see him rolling his eyes as he texted back, asking where it was.

I sent him the above picture.

His response was immediate: "WTF is that a picture of?"

I told him it was my seatbelt clicker thingy majig. And my wedding ring.

This time I could practically hear him swearing before he texted me back.  "I'll get it out.  Did your fingers shrink?"

I shot back with a no, to which he replied, "Then WTF was your ring doing off your finger?"

I explained I was putting on lotion at a stop light and the ring rolled off my lap.  I defensively asked if he wanted me to have a dirty ring.

His response?

"No, I want you to have dry hands."

More Girlie-isms

"Mommy, I have good news and bad news," she told me after doing a medical check up on me (just like Doc McStuffins). "The good news is that Walking Sticks can walk.  The bad news is the bees are black and yellow."
 
~

Girlie came in and woke me up the other day at 6 am -- this never happens.  She is my night owl and the hardest of my kiddos to wake up in the morning.  But we live by a ranch and she heard the rooster crowing.  "Get up Mommy!" she said shaking my shoulder.  "The chicken says it's time to get up!"

~

Desperate to win a game against her brother (who was beating her about 100 to 2 in Basketball) Girlie hid all of the balls but one in her closet.  Then she took the one ball and held it over her head.  "We are playing a game," she informed her brother.  "It's called who can hold the ball up the highest."

"I WIN!" Boyo shouted, holding his hands up above his head.

Girlie looked down her nose at him.  "No, you lose," she said pompously.  "You don't have a ball."

~

I wasn't feeling well the other day -- sick to my stomach, back ache, head ache, etc.  Girlie tucked a blanket around me, gave it a kiss it better, and then said, "Don't worry Mommy.  I will boss everyone around today so you don't have to.  You rest."

~

The night before Girlie started at her new school, she said, "Mom, what if I don't like the other kids?"

I misheard her -- I thought she said, "Mom, what if the other kids don't like me?"  So I told her not to worry, she was going to make friends and that people will like her.

"Mom," she sighed.  "I know that.  I'm awesome.  But what if the other kids aren't awesome like me?"

~

Wordless Wednesday: First Day of School

Addendum for Work at Home Moms: You are screwed

I just read an interesting article -- 7 Reasons Why Stay-at-Home Moms Have It Harder.

Here are the author's reasons why going into an office is easier than staying home with kids -- and my addendum for those forgotten enigmas, the Work At Home Moms:

1. Do Not Disturb Rules Are in Effect: "If some jabberjaw colleague looks eager to flap her lips, you can set my can’t-you-see-I’m-working vibe to high. Your ability to get stuff done is limited only by your own distracted mind".

Addendum for WORK at home Moms: You are screwed.  No ferocious look, whispered threat, TV-as-a-babysitter, or hiding in the coat closet will work.  Your children WILL find you.  And ask to make cookies/paint/cuddle/go swimming/complete some other time consuming chore five minutes before your deadline.  And when you say you have to work, the little manipulator will look up at you with puppy dog eyes, twist the knife they have jabbed into your ribs, and say, "It's okay Mommy.  I still love you."

2. No One Is Undoing Your Work: "At home you pack a diaper bag and come back to find its fabulously organized contents strewn about the four corners of the empire known as [your address]. You clean up a room and minutes later it looks like you were robbed."

Addendum for WORK at home Moms: You are screwed.  Not only are your kids destroying the house, but they are also "helping" you by rearranging your work papers or using them to color on.  Or stealing your phone to play angry birds.  Or unplugging your computer right in the middle of a carefully crafted email to your boss.
 
3. Your Partner is right by your side: "At work, a partner who isn’t pulling his weight will receive a detailed and scathing review of his performance, and may soon be receiving the contents of his workspace in a one of those don’t let-the-door-hitcha-on-the-way-out boxes.  (Note: Don’t try that at home.)"

Addendum for WORK at home Moms: You are screwed.  Partner?  My husband and I are ships passing each other in the night... we do the 3:30 pass off -- he gets home and takes the kids so I can work until 9 or 10.  When I finish working, he's asleep.  Happy Marriage, honey.  

4. You Can Talk Like An Adult With Other Adults: "If you love your polysyllabic words like the editor of the New Yorker, or if your skill with four-letter words would make a streetwalker blush, then spending the day speaking in an upbeat, patient, and sensitive manner could be enough to make you crave a barrel of vodka and a long straw."

Addendum for WORK at home Moms: You are screwed.  Try sounding professional on a teleconference when your four year old shouts out "I need you to wipe my butt!" before you can hit mute. 

5. Manageable Mulit-tasking: "At home, multitasking means doing the laundry, making a meal, supervising an art project, and making sure no one gets beaten to death/watches too much TV/makes a huge mess."

Addendum for WORK at home Moms: You are screwed.  Now add respond to emails, contribute in meetings, hit deadlines, answer the phone, and sound professional, intelligent, and happy to this list.  It's a wonder I haven't been committed. 
 
6. Home Requires Constant Directives and Attention: "At home, everything from eating a meal, to getting dressed, to refraining from beating someone to a pulp or using the sofa like a pommel horse requires the skills of a hostage negotiator."

Addendum for WORK at home Moms: You are screwed.  Because you also have to add: "Don't touch mommy's computer!  No I said don't -- okay, fine a quick email to Poppa.  But no IMing him this time... No, I said don't .... Put my phone down!  What are you thinking!?  You know that's Mommy's work folder... it doesn't need to be glued shut!!  Sonofabi... no, Mommy wasn't going to say a bad word.  Who wants a cookie? And another episode of Little Einsteins?" 
 
7. Mediocre Can Be Good Enough: "The minutiae of days spent “at home” with small children may be exhausting, maddening even, but an SAHM is consumed by the idea that the sum total of  her daily choices amounts to an intellectually, physically, emotionally, and socially capable person. Run-of-the-mill decisions and events can get blown out of proportion and seem monumental. "

Addendum for WORK at home Moms: You are screwed.  Because when you try to do everything well, nothing gets done at all.  And some days you have to decide -- job or kids? Kids normally win.  But I am still petitioning to have their school start the same time I have to go back to work.

And all my griping and whining aside -- I've been a SAHM and a Working Mom.  And I wouldn't trade being a WAHM for the world.  Because when my kids need a hug, I'm there to give them one.  Because I'm teaching them independence and patience (badly), when I have to finish a meeting before we can go to the park.  And because I get to be a part of their lives while providing for them.  I'm sure that there will be a therapist later down the line (mine but maybe theirs) to tell me that I made the wrong choice by trying to have the best of both worlds.  But right now, it works.  Sort of.

 

 

How to Clean A Baby Who Eats Corn on the Cob with Her Head....

Wordless Wednesday: End of Summer S'mores. The Non Messy Kind.

From the Mouths of Babes....

My husband and I were debating something ridiculous the other night -- I think it was whether or not mushrooms are disgusting (they are) or where they grow (who cares, they are disgusting).

Girlie injected herself into the conversation, asking what we were talking about...

I told her that mushrooms were disgusting and that Daddy thought they tasted good.

My husband responded to that, telling her, that Mommy was wrong and didn't know what she was talking about.

To which Girlie shot back with, "Actually, Daddy, you are wrong.  Mommy is always right!"

God bless that child.