From My Play Book

As a teenager, I was famous for washing my clothes and then leaving them in the dryer.  I would either use the dryer as a second closet and just pick through it to get the shirt or pants that I wanted to wear or my dad would fold my clothes for me in the hopes of thwarting a war between my mother and I.

And by "war", I meant my mother yelling at me to fold my damn clothes.

All justified.

And as all other paybacks have been coming to fruition, - (thanks mom!) - I went to move my laundry from the washer to the dryer today and low and behold, Shane had pulled a play from my playbook.

After getting over the initial shock and AWE (like the skies parted and the sunshine shone BRIGHTLY with a big smiley on it's face) that he actually did his laundry, I started laughing because he pulled a fast one on me.  And I knew it.

As I had 10 loads of laundry to do behind him, I folded his stuff and made a mental note to myself that he pulled a good one but it was going to be the last time he did that.

Yeah.  Right. 

Game on boy.  I *know* THAT move.

I DID that move.

I got away with it some times.

As you will too.

But I've got my battle face on baby.

Damn teenagers.  LOL!

Stupid Payback

via text to Shane:

Me:  Your drawers are a disaster.  I thought you said that you cleaned them out. 

Him:  I did clean them out.

Me:  No you didn't.  It's sweat pants and other clothes you haven't worn in a year.

Him:  Yep.  Long pants and the such.

Me:  Yep.  All jumbled up and wrinkled.

Him:  Just the way I like them.

Me:  MEH.

Exhibit A, Your Honor

Exhibit B, Your Honor

Exhibit C, Your Honor

Paybacks.  Sweet, stupid paybacks.

The Saga of the Backpack

It's a bittersweet moment for our family.

The last weekend of summer vacation before the kids go back to school.

Bitter for them.  Sweet for me baby!  LOL!

We have gotten school supplies, been assigned teachers and visited the kids schools to meet those teachers.  Time to get the backpacks ready for the first day of class.

Well.  Time to think about getting the kids backpacks ready for school.  I'm quite certain that even though I have the best of intentions, I will put it off until Monday night to do it.

Because I stink.  LOL!

But at least I'm keeping it real.

So I go to find Owen's backpack.  It was right where he left it the last day of school.  On his floor beside his bed.

Still packed with everything from school.  Including his caped Superman socks.  As you can imagine, they were smelly.  Meh.

I did bring the backpack downstairs though.  So that's something.  I'm so on top of things!

As you can see tho, it's still not unpacked.  Little tiny baby steps, people!

Shane's backpack, of course, was still packed as well and was laying beside his desk...right where he left it on the last day of school.

But his is now unpacked AND cleaned out.  Because I had a come to Jesus meeting with him and Owen on Thursday about taking responsibility for their things and chores.  And it must have sunk in because when I got up on Friday at 8 am, he was showered and dressed and was cleaning out his school instrument.  And his backpack.

And if you're impressed with him, he was just scared.  LOL!

But before you send him a congratulations note, please observe that his backpack is still sitting on the sofa where he cleaned it out...two days later.  

Little tiny baby steps, people.

And the few readers of my blog may remember the battle that I had with Shane over cleaning out his backpack after last school year.  Unfortunately, the backpack struggle isn't a new one for our family.

But I thought that I won that battle.

Thought.

Until I looked in his very messy closet and saw the offending backpack that is apparently still not cleaned out.  FROM JUNE 17, 2011.

And ironically enough, that pink bag that it sits upon is from our trip to Pawleys Island this summer.  Still packed.  And since it's sitting on top of that pink bag, I KNOW that he has seen and touched the backpack.  He had to in order to put it on top of the pink bag.  Otherwise, that pink bag would be on top of the backpack.

Little stinker.

You know.  I'm not going to clean it out.  Ha.  I win!

On the day of his graduation from high school, and probably college, you're going to read a blog post with a new picture of that stupid backpack...still packed up.

And so the saga of the backpack continues.  And I have a feeling that this won't be the last time you read about a stupid backpack.  Meh.

Boys.  Sheesh.

Emoticoms

Owen isn't afraid to let you know what he thinks.

And apparently he doesn't think much of either spelling or math.

And he let his teacher know about it via an emoticom on his papers. 

Meh.

So funny.

Well.  It would be funny if a) he only did it in this way and b) if he weren't exactly like me.

Paybacks.  Oh sweet paybacks. 

A New Focus

Owen decided YESTERDAY that he wanted to paint his room a new color.  We talked about it and I told him that before we could do that, we'd have to clean out his room and remove everything from the walls.

So while I was busy cooking dinner (no, seriously...I was cooking dinner), he and his friend Marcus went to play in his room.

I didn't think anything about it.

What I didn't know is that he was preparing his room to be painted.

By taking EVERYTHING off of the walls and removing it from his room.

And dumping it ALL into the middle of the upstairs hallway.

Meh.

I swear I have no idea where he gets his drive and focus.  Once he decides something, it is so gonna happen.  You can either help him or get the hell out of his way.

I made him put it all back into his room (not on the walls tho because I just wanted to go to bed).  He was up this morning looking at the Benjamin Moore site to pick out the color.

What color, you ask?  Bright fluorescent orange or lime green.  He could go either way.

OMG.  Cleaning out his room and putting it all back together wasn't really on my list this weekend.

Meh.

Ugh.

Payback.  Sweet payback.

Payback. Sweet Payback.

The older that your kids get, the more that they participate in functions where it is all them and once they are on stage, you absolutely have no control.

It is what it is and they do what they will do.

And no matter how much you want to go up and pull them off the stage - twisting their ear along the way - you are just a spectator in it just like all of the other (hundreds) of people.

I give you one of those moments.



And another one of those moments.



Oh yeah. I have about ten other pictures of Shane doing the same thing. The first time I laughed. The second and subsequent ten times, I sank further and further down into my seat wishing that I had the proverbial shovel to dig myself a hole to crawl into and hide.

Well. It's not like it was the Spring Concert where all of the parents, grandparents and community was invited to watch.

Oh. Wait. Yes it was.

And, yes...mom. I hear you laughing and saying to yourself that this is sweet, sweet payback.

What's That You Say?

As a parent of a smaller child, you never know what's going to come out of their mouth. Or when it's going to come out. But you can be sure that it's usually at the most inappropriate time or place.

At that point, you have two options. 1) Beg off that you have to go to the restroom and then scamper off as quickly as possible ignoring the child. or 2) Tell them to stop and risk them questioning you (in the loudest, highest voice possible of course!) as to why you should stop.

And with Owen, you know that if you choose option 2, that he is going to protest. Loudly.

And, at tennis today, Owen pulled a good one. Yes, folks. That's right. Because that's the way he rolls.

During tennis, I told him that he needs to focus and stop playing with the other boys. One boy in particular. I'm not sure how Owen always finds the "one" kid but he does. You know - the kid who throws balls at the instructor and makes a gun out of the racket.

But Owen was trying to be good. He really was. But like a moth drawn to a light, Owen is drawn to "those" kids.

So I reminded him again when he was on break (out of earshot of the other parents of course!) About 10 minutes later, he came over to the courtside and yelled "I'm trying mom but these kids are BAD and they are distracting me!" And he goes further into detail with what they are doing. Not him. But them.

In front of the other parents. And the bad kid's mom. Meh.

He kept on and on and getting louder and more animated as he went so I asked him to come over and talk to me. At this point, he had to be corrected but I could not slam the other kids. So...I told him that he has no control over other kids but he does have control over himself and he needed to work it out.

But, I really wanted to agree with him and tell him that I totally agreed that the boy was a brat but I took the adult road instead.

But, of course, as he's walking away, he yells again that they were bad.

Heh. I know. Owen calling some other kid bad. That's irony in it's finest really.

But...here you go mom and dad. Another payback in your win column!

The Apple Don't Fall Far From The Tree

Apparently, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree as I'm finding out. I was cleaning out some things this weekend and ran across this comic strip. It got me to giggling and thinking that there are two things going on in this old Nancy comic strip from 1991 that make me giggle.

1. My mother cut it out for me. I guess now we know where I get my love of comic strips and cutting them out comes from.

2. I am getting the ultimate payback because I have three messy boys that I live with. Yes. I said three. Because Ken definitely counts as one of them!



I guess that this post is for my mom really. Because now she can kick back and laugh as my kids put me through what she went through. And, it's all thanks to a little comic strip that she cut out so many years ago and gave to me.

She obviously saw something in it that reminded her of me. ;)

Lift The Curse! Lift The Curse!

Sometimes things happen where I just shake my head and say to myself "Hum. I guess she hasn't lifted that curse yet."

Well, this was one of those times.

Shane's room, as always, was a mess. Of course, there were undies and clothes all over the place. Because everyone wants to see his dirty undies.

As a bonus, there were clothes laying all over the floor of his closet.

I called him back upstairs and pointed out everything that needed to be picked up. Including the clothes in the closet.

His response?

"Gawwwwwwd, mom. They're NOT EVEN DIRTY. But, fine. I'll put them in the dirty laundry. Whatever you want."

Oh. My. God. Full circle.

But, it was funny and he was so defiant and didn't see anything wrong with the clean clothes laying on the floor.

Please. Take. The. Curse. Off. Please. :)