Setting The Bar

I'm not Super-Mom.

I'm not even Above-Average-Mom.

I'm a pretty much just Mom.

You could look at as though I'm "keeping it real" for my kids. They need to know that having a family, a home, and a job also means that they have to forgo home-cooked, four-course meals and a spot-free household existence.

It became abundantly clear how far from "spot-free" my home had become based on Stinkle's reaction to cleaning her room yesterday.

Her room was a disaster area. Stuffed animals, barrettes, Barbies, Barbie accessories, baby dolls, McDonald's toys, scraps of at least five sheets of green construction paper, magnets, Littlest Pet Shop stuff, and much more littered her bedroom floor.

It's not a big room - only 11X10 and that might be generous. So it doesn't take much of a mess to make it look much, much smaller.

This poor child also has a massive case of second child syndrome:

• She has the smallest of the bedrooms with the smallest closet.
• Her bed is the actually the trundle from under Cupie's Captains bed.
• The floor lamp used to be Cupie's but it didn't fit the new decor when we moved into our current house so Stinkles inherited it.
• The dresser was originally Cupie's too, but Cupie got a new one when Stinkles was born so it's technically a hand-me-down too.

Cupie has a walk-in closet that we were able to add storage shelves to. She has 25 feet of space to store games, those doll make-up heads, Pixos, books, Barbie stuff, etc. Stinkles has none.

That's one reason her room is a mess. We'd provided her no means of organizing it nor had we shown her how.

So we were at Home Depot this weekend. And you know as soon as we walked in, the kids had to go to the bathroom.

What's with kids and needing to go to the bathroom at every store we visit?

We were there to get a couple of things that sold at the front of the store. Now, I had to traipse all the way to the back of the store to find the bathrooms. Said Traipsing took me through the Closetmaid storage stuff isle.

Whaaaaaaaaaaah. A magical glow floated over the racks of brackets & wire shelving.

I started guesstimating the size of Stinkles closet.

Holy crap!

It was going to cost us at least $250 to do her closet. The angel choir ceased abruptly.

Now, I know you can do a 34"X47" (we measured when we got home) for less than $250, but I wanted the "track" system so we could screw this stuff into the wall once and still have flexibility to change the height of the shelves later. Trying to cover up the bullet sized holes from wall anchors is a pain in the rump.

We ultimately decided to buy the materials for part of her closet. At least she would get some storage.

Stinkles was pretty excited about getting some shelves in her closet and cleaning up her room. Don't you just love this age? She was excited about cleaning!

So I started moving stuff around in her closet. Like, I stacked the tubs of hand-me-down clothes on one side. I moved the boxes of hand-me-down shoes off the shelf already in the closet to the top of the tubs. Thankfully, the wall was there to prevent the fall of the leaning tower of hand-me-downs.

In the process, I found evidence of good intentions. There were three collapsible canvas cubes to match the colors of her room. Stinkles helped decide what went into each one.

I think I saw that on Oprah or read it in one of those perfect parent type of magazines - let the kids help make the decision and maybe they'll stick with it. I thought if she helped decide what went in the cubes, the likelihood of those items making it back into the cubes would increase.

Stay tuned, we'll see if that worked.

Believe it or not, the shelving went up uneventfully.

How does that happen to me?

I suppose I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. I'll just shut-up and put a check in the success column.

Anywho, Hubby took the kids to Wally-world for a new camera (stay tuned for that saga) and I finished up Stinkle's closet & room cleaning.

When she got home, Stinkles ran to her room. By the time I made my way up, she was at the top of the stairs, jumping up and down with her arms up in the air. She looked like she had just won the lottery.

I got a huge hug and kiss.

I asked her, "Do you like what Mommy did in your room?"

She let go, stepped back, and vigorously nodded her head. Then she said, "Now let's go look at the closet!"

She was that excited about her room being clean - she hadn't even looked at the closet yet!

You know you're doing something wrong when your child thinks that a clean room is cause for celebration.

Or maybe I've done it right by setting the bar pretty darn low.

Silver Lining:

1. There was no stepping on Barbie boots or any other foot puncturing item when sneaking in for one last kiss before I went to be last night.
2. The tables have been turned on Cupie. Stinkles informed her that her room is a "daster". And it spurred a mini cleaning spree by Cupie. Mini as in, she made her bed - woo, who!
3. Stinkles got a small taste of victory. We did something just for her - she was the sole focus of this project and she didn't have to share it with her sister. I'm sure she put an imaginary check in the success column too.

There Isn't A Band-Aid Big Enough

As a parent, I want to shield my children from the ugly in the world.

Yesterday, I failed.

Last Thursday, Cupie came home all excited. She and some "friends" from daycare were going to perform a concert on Monday. She needed a microphone, a purse, sunglasses, and a scarf. Oh yah, and a PINK outfit.

That's a quick list - she was back from the playroom with everything but the outfit in about five minutes.

She trounced up to her room picked out a pink skirt and a striped shirt and put them in reserve for Monday.

All weekend she talked about this concert on Monday. They had dance moves and everything.

On Monday morning she bounced out of bed and got ready real quick. Quite a feat because she normally has to be reminded several times to get dressed.

To brush her hair.

To brush her teeth.

To find her shoes. Yada, yada, yada.

When I asked how the concert went Monday evening, she said the "ringleader" was sick so they were putting it off until Wednesday. She asked me to wash her outfit so she could wear it again. She had several pink articles of clothing, but this was her "concert" outfit.

Wednesday morning was a repeat of Monday.

Wednesday evening was not.

I asked her about the concert and she just started sobbing.

The "ringleader" decided there were too many girls in the group and one, ONE, had to be voted out. Everyone voted out Cupie.

Cupie was seriously sobbing.

Not tears of disappointment.

SOBBING.

Disappointment, hurt, & confusion don't even begin to describe how she felt.

Even writing this, I feel pain for my daughter and it brings tears to my eyes because I remember what it was like. I wasn't the most popular kid growing up. In fact, I could be quite shy. (Shut up all of you who actually know me - I grew up and found my voice.)

Cupie is so outgoing, charismatic, and fun. I didn't think she would endure the growing pains I did. Naive, I know.

Silver Lining:

1. Kids are resilient. She seems fine today. But I can't help wondering if this is "that one time" that keeps coming back to haunt her as she grows up.


2. I didn't see the "ringleader" this morning. She's lucky. I might not have been able to hold back from wringing her neck.


3. Even a "Pollyanna" can have an off day - see, I'm not perfect :)

Simple Solutions

Nursing your baby is a special bonding time between a mother and child.

You should be able to relax and thank the Lord that your baby is hungry; thus, relieving the sometimes unbelievable pressure that has built up.

However, when your six year old is running around, bouncing off walls, and shrieking just for the fun of it, there is no relaxing.

So, what is a nursing mother to do?

Of course, the answer is simple.

You call your six year old over to you, unfasten the other flap of your nursing bra, and squeeze.

A squirt of breast milk right between the eyes has an amazingly quieting effect on the attitude of your older child.

Silver Lining:

1. I never had to do this because, I didn't nurse for very long and my girls are only two years apart.


2. I can't wait for the Island Luau this summer. I think the nursing moms in the neighborhood may have an unfair advantage in the water gun fight - they don't have to stop to reload.

Parental Logic

Because I've got eyes in the back of my head . . .

I brought you into this world, and I can take you out . . .

Keep it up and Santa may put you on the naughty list . . .

Because I said so . . .

Ah, the logic of parents.

My girls are small enough to still believe almost everything I say. Especially if I say it with any sort of authority.

From personal experience, I know this will not continue into the teenage years.

Case & point (I was about sixteen):

"Dad, are there onions in this?"

I can't stand onions. I can taste them in everything.

Hubby and I went to the Waffle House once and my order of hashbrowns had been cooked on a griddle that at one point in time had onions on it. I nearly choked on the first bite - they had a distinct onion taste. I wasn't even hungry after that.

Dramatic? Yes.

Changable? No.

Back to dinner with my dad.

With a look of complete disbelief, he answered, "How could you tell? I minced them up! You can't even taste them."

Being a smart*ssy teenager, I responded, "If you can't taste them, then why are they in there?"

"For flavor." Too late - Dad was soooooo busted.

I just grinned from ear to ear and pushed my bowl away.

Silver Lining:

1. I had gotten too big for him to knock me into next week.


2. I had gotten old enough to take notes for my own parenting manual. Too bad I was a perfect angel. That manual is not helping me deal with the temper tantrums and mischievous actions of my own girls.

Morning Me

You guys are just getting whatever spills out of my brain today. You're going to get a little taste of my day starting with 5am.

I had to restart the alarm. It went off at 5am, I hit snooze. It went off again at 5:09 and I hit the ocean waves button, which is on the left side of the clock. And it resets the snooze. So I turned the alarm off, changed the "wake up time" to 5:11, and turned the alarm back on.

The alarm went off at 5:11, I hit snooze.

The alarm went off at 5:20, I hit snooze.

The alarm went off at 5:29, I hit snooze.

The alarm went off at 5:38, I got up.

Got ya there, didn't I? You thought I was going to hit snooze again.

5:45-ish

Why do women need make-up? Granted, I'm not leaving the house without it, but who started this?

I must say, I really like my new Mary Kay facial highlighting pen. It really does make my eyes look more awake. I'm all about the allusion of looking awake.

6am-ish

Where did hubby go?

Since he's playing on the computer, I will too.

Wow, that sounded childish. Too bad. You all get the benefit.

Random Tuesday Thoughts. I'm not really all that randomly funny this early in the morning, but I haven't posted in a few days so I really must do something. Let's just see what falls out.

I'm hungry.

I'm re-reading what I've written so far and while it may not be funny to you, I'm cracking myself up. Sad, isn't it?

Now, I really need breakfast.

Crap, one of the kids just got up.

7am-ish

I'm hungry. Dang kids! I never got a bowl of cereal.

A turkey sandwich or a peanut butter sandwich? Tough decisions. Geez, I wish I was in Kindergarten.

How do kids have so much energy in the morning? I'm dragging ass & haven't had any coffee yet, but they're running "the racing circle" screaming their heads off.

Who decided an open concept floor plan was a good idea? There is always some kind of wall somewhere that gives the kids the idea that the entire floor is a race track. I can't believe I haven't lost a child to a counter corner head injury or to the beating they would receive upon breaking the doors to the china cabinet.

8am-ish

Library day was yesterday.

Did Cupie return her book? Nope.

Did we even read the book? Nope.

It needed to go back but it was only a few minutes before the bus was going to get to her stop.

Compromise time. Let's read on the porch!

Of course, it was chilly and my jacket was locked in my car. Being the good mommy I am (stop tittering), I didn't want to waste time getting my keys so I could get my jacket; thus, risking the chance that we wouldn't be able to finish the book. It was about chipmunks. How long could that possibly take?

Dear God! It was actually about chipmunks. As in, they live in burrows (which the main entrance is about a yard long) and they have five black stripes on their backs (which you can see even when they are babies and don't have any fur).

I opened the book and it smelled musty. I really should have told Stinkles to back away because the mold spores emanating from the book could have activated her allergies and killed her. Half of it was black & white (I'm sorry, yellow - the pages have yellowed) and half of it looked like it was colored with chalk.

I closed the book just as the bus turned the corner. Cupie skipped off to school and I'm the greatest mommy in the world!

I'm still hungry.

Dude, you all must be bored as hell. I'll spare you the rest of the morning details. The most exciting thing after Cupie got on the bus was that I ate a bowl of oatmeal at 11am.

Woot! Woot! What a fantabulous morning! NOT!

I'm not the only one suffering from this randomness. Visit the "Un Mom" by clicking the pretty purple button for more. Go on, click it!

I SAID CLICK IT!

Sorry, the mom in me feels the need to tell everyone to do something at least three times.

Silver Lining:

1. If you made it this far, you deserve something special for your efforts. Go scrounge around some one's desk for a piece of candy. You know some one's got candy - everyone brings it in right after Halloween so everyone has a chance to watch their butts expand. No sense keeping the candy at home all to yourself so only your own butt expands - that's just selfish.


2. Did I mention I'm the greatest mommy in the world? You're gosh darn right I am - I sat in the chilly morning air reading a book that had to be returned to school because it was already late. I saved my child from feeling completely dejected because she had to return a book that she personally picked out, but never got read. I'm a hero! Do you think a Hershey kiss could be fashioned into a medal? It's the only thing shiny around here (lots of Halloween candy, remember?). Aw, forget it, I'll just eat it.

I Said . . .

Hubby got a new game for the Wii this weekend - Wii Resort!

It's a lot of fun - fencing, Frisbee, archery, wave boarding, etc. All those resort-y types of things to do.

Cupie has finally gotten the hang of which buttons to press and can read so playing some of the games has gotten much easier for her. She's really funny at fencing. She gets her arm a swinging, gets her body into a little fencing stance, and scuttles forward toward her "opponent".

Hubby was fencing when Cupie piped in that she wanted a turn. Stinkles can't play any of the games and was tired of being the cheerleader and asked to watch Diego.

Hubby was in the middle of a round and told them both to wait just a minute.

A minute ticked by.

Then another.

Cupie asked again.

Stinkles headed over to the game console and very pointedly pushed the power button.

Right in the middle of Hubby's round.

She walked away like it was no big deal. In her mind, she had solved the problem.

Silver Lining:

1. Is it wrong to laugh behind a book while your husband is sternly discussing the situation with your four year daughter?


2. The Wii has a built in memory so Hubby only had to start over that one round and not from the beginning.

Where Have All The Carnies Gone?

I'll tell you where they are (or were). They were at the Fall Festival at Cupie's school on Friday & Saturday.

We had a lot to do on Saturday - School Festival, Hot Air Balloon Race, Island Luau. Since the festival started early in the morning, we started our day there. That way we'd have time to cram all the other events in later.

We pre-purchased tickets for the games & rides and were able to bypass the ticket booth. We had blue tickets for the rides and purple tickets for all the other stuff.

Whew! We didn't have to wait behind the one other person buying their tickets that morning.

The first thing the girls saw upon arriving at the festival was the petting zoo consisting of goats, chickens, roosters, ducks, sheep & alpacas. They went bonkers over the idea of the farm animals. I don't get this - we live by a farm. They see these types of animals all the time. One cool thing was they got to feed the animals (one purple ticket).

Once we were done with the animals and a thirty second pony ride (four purple tickets), we headed over to the carnival rides - the ones with the carnies.

They had the required carousel, tea cups/barrel ride, something scrambler-ish, a bounce house, swings, and that ride that goes around with seats that alternate going up and down (if that doesn't make sense, there is a picture in a bit).

Both girls saw the swings and made a bee-line for them. The ride was running so there was a wee bit of a wait. Good grief, you would have thought the world was going to end.

When the Carney came over to get the tickets, we were able to read his shirt. Mind you, he woke up that morning, knowing he was going to be working an elementary school festival.



The writing on his shirt, while not readable from this picture, said:

I Get Sh*t-Faced Drunk
How Do You Handle Stress?

How's that for class?

I wonder what's really in that Pepsi bottle.

You will also note the yellow swing seat at the left side of the picture. This was indicative of the condition of all the rides. Rusty and frickin' OLD.

Stinkles howled when the Carney told her she wasn't tall enough to ride the swings - she was only two inches short. Now the world really was going to end!

At least the carousel was height appropriate. It wasn't a fancy carousel. That would have been out of character for the operation posing as a carnival company. There were no horses that went up and down. Nothing went up and down. There weren't even horses. It was fire trucks and motorcycles.

I think she was the only kid on the entire ride. Doesn't surprise me. After about five rotations she was telling us, "I'm ready to get off now." Even a three-year-old was bored with it!

The next ride Cupie chose also had a height requirement taller than Stinkles. There was no howling because Daddy was putting her a different ride already. I gave Cupie a ticket and sent her by herself to Hustler.



So far we have a stressed out, sh*t-faced Carney and a ride called "Hustler". Nice, huh?

When I turned away from Hustler and looked at the ride Stinkles was on, I almost had a heart attack.

One of our friends commented that it looked like it had been around since the Roosevelt era. Hubby said, "Yah, the first one."

It was rusty everywhere. The hydraulics no longer worked so the cars didn't go up and down like they were supposed to. Most of seats didn't have cushions, only a wooden seat. The ones that had cushions were torn and you could see foam peeking out.

Oh, and the lanky Carney (who had three day old stubble and greasy hair) had to push the ride to get it going. Visualize the guys getting the propellers going on old prop planes.



Stinkles didn't understand that the ride would force her body to the outer side of the car and insisted on sitting on the inner side. She was holding on for dear life. At one point I shouted at her, "Just slide to the other side." Hubby then pointed out that sliding across that wooden seat might give her a splinter in her butt.

We're up to a stressed out, sh*t-faced Carney, Hustler ride, and a splintery Roosevelt-era, half functioning ride. Doing good, right?

Our final ride of the day was the bucking bronco ride. Eight purple tickets! Each! Both girls and Hubby wanted to ride it.

On level one, it doesn't move very fast. Cupie was actually a little bored, but watching Stinkles hold on was pretty humorous.




Like that crooked horn?

It was made out of duct tape. The real horns had broken off some time ago.

At one point it fell out and some kid just picked it up and stuck it back in the hole on the side of the bull's head. We didn't realize it was the horn at first. My first thought was that the bull had a realistic pooping feature. Thank goodness, I was wrong.

Hubby got on the bull too.



Ride Indie, ride! He started out at level one - pretty boring. He asked the guy to bump it up to the next level.

It must be a Richter scale type thing. That bull went twice as fast and jerked around violently.

Hubby was down in about 3 seconds.

All this excitement (stress out, sh*t-faced Carney, Hustler in the house, Roosevelt-era prop plane turned carnival ride, and horns optional bucking bronco) in only 2 1/2 hours. Whew, and we were hardly starting our busy day.

Silver lining:

1. The kids had a good time.


2. The kids are alive after the perilous rides they were on.


3. I didn't read about any accidents at the festival so the rides must have held up


4. The rest of the day, while busy, didn't seem to put the kids in any danger - aside from the burning propane less than five feet from them and the rolling hot air balloon baskets nearly squishing them at the balloon race.

I Hear Voices

My parents live 500 miles away from me, and 99% of the time they are not in the room with me and my kids. To this end, I don’t understand why I keep hearing their voices when I’m yelling at my kids.


This happens any time I hear the following phrases:

Turn that down.

Don’t make me come over there.

Grouschmockit! (This means move it)

Put your shoes away.

I’m sick & tired . . .

Do you want me to turn this car around?

Stop that crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.

Because I said so.

Turn off some of these lights, the house is lit up like a Polish chapel.

I’m on the phone!


One time I was on the phone with The Mom, when I heard the phone phrase. I said, “Did you just say that?”

She said, “No, honey. That was you”

Then it hit me. Oh, crap! I’ve turned into my parents.

Silver lining:

1. Sissy & I aren’t too screwed up so I guess I’m not scarring the kids for life with these phrases.

2. Grouschmockit is actually endearing. This one has been in the family for generations. I’d heard both my grandma & great-grandma use it. I don’t know how to actually spell it or what language it is – my guess is either German or Russian.