Doing What You Have To Do

My sister is so ghetto.

And funny.

By now, most of you that know me know that I'm not right.

But if you don't know my sister, then you probably think that I'm the one of the two that isn't quite right.

Well, I'm not.  And that's definitely true. 

But neither is she.  And here's the evidence.  

My aunt and uncle had a birthday part for her daughter Sheldon and Shane this summer.  When Susan gave the kids their presents (which, by the way, we were impressed that she remembered) she so proudly plopped them down on the table.

We all just sat there and looked at it trying to figure out what in the h-e-double-hockey-sticks she had done.

She finally announced in a "tee-hee" voice that she didn't have any wrapping paper (well, duh, we could see that) so she just did what she had to do.

She grabbed the Saranwrap and got to work.

She made sure to point out that she had put a pretty bow around it, which she had!

That, my friends, is pure genius.  Maybe mad genius.  But genius none-the-less. 

Got a weird shaped present?  No problem for the Saran Wrap.

Did someone use your tape and put the empty roll back into the drawer?  Yeah.  No problem.  Saran Wrap is all over that!

And now I'm going to add a roll of Saran Wrap in the van so when we're driving to a kids party and I'm trying to wrap the present (that we most likely bought on the way to the party) in the car, I'll have a fall back wrapping paper.

You know.  So just in case the emergency paper, scissors or tape that I have stowed in the van isn't there for some reason, I'll be able to wrap some poor child's present.

All ghetto like.

Because it's cool.  And the new "in-thing" to do!

Grocery Shopping With the Kids

I love when the kids are home for break.

Really I do!

And why wouldn't I?  There's no schedules other than the ones that I self-create and no homework to make them do and no mad dash scramble to get out the door in the morning.

But, unfortunately, inevitably we're going to need food.  Like chips and chocolate.

You know.  All the things that *I'm* going to need to survive the break.

And if you're a mom, you know what that means.

Yep.  You must head to the grocery store.  With them.

And if you haven't experienced this first hand, grocery shopping with them is so much fun.  And usually expensive too.  Because you know that they are chucking things into the cart left and right when you're not looking.

But I've got my eagle eye on guard looking out for that.  If I don't catch it when it's happening, I usually catch it when I'm unloading the cart at the checkout.

Because I'm no newb.

But the best part of grocery shopping with the kids is when they try and cram their too big bodies underneath the too small cart.

And, being silly, clueless kids, they don't see the steam coming out of my ears and are just so proud of themselves. And Owen asks if I'm going to blog the pictures or put them on Facebook.

But of course I am.  I want proof for when they have kids themselves.  Or better yet...their first girlfriend!  :evil:

I guess right now you're thinking that Shane must be behaving himself because I have no pictures of him.

Well you'd be right.  Partially.

He wasn't cramming his 100 pound body underneath the cart.  Nope.  Not at all.

In fact.  I'm really not sure what he was doing.  Because he had wandered off for the 15th time to God-only-knows-where to do God-only-knows-what.  Even though he was asked not to.  15 times.

So yeah.  Grocery shopping with kids.

I :heart: it!

Not.

Well Hello Wayne!

Well.  Hello Wayne.  Great to see you!

Grab a plunger.  There's work to be done!

Well.  Hello Mary Mayken.

Grab a toy/stuffed animal/blocks or whatever you can.  No need to play with it.

Just go ahead and stuff it down the john.

Wayne will be here soon to fix it.

Well.  Hello Ginny.  Hello Kim.

Nice job interrogating her.  Still don't know what it was.

I just know Wayne needs to plunge.  And plunge some more.  And then he needs to continue plunging.  And then when he thinks he's finished, plunge it some more.  :-|

:p

We never did figure out what she threw in there.  :-|

It's A Secret!

According to my friend Mike, my niece Mary Mayken has more secrets than the CIA.

And yeah.  I totally agree with that!

The only problem is that she leaks them faster than Wikileak.


So yeah.  If you have a secret, and you want it shared, be sure to tell Mary Mayken.  Otherwise, don't tell her anything!

Susan, you better be careful about any snarky comments that you make in front of her.  I'm just saying.  ;)

PS - Sorry it's sideways.  It's Susan's stellar videography at work.

And because it's sideways, you'll need to go to youtube itself to view the video.  It won't fit the whole thing on here because it's sideways.  :/

Don't Wish It Away...Summer Fun!

Remember the summer when everyone was complaining about how hot it was and wishing for the snow and cold?  I do!  And to all you people who wished for it...I hope that you're happy!

So, here's some pictures and a video from summer fun at the pool.  Oh man.  That seems like a snow storm, two school cancellations and a school delay ago!

Oh, wait...it was.  :/

Kids doing what they do best...just being kids.

Nothing better than the froggy slide!

Owen!

 

The big kids.

Weeee!

But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end eventually.  

Time to go.

I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!!!

 

YEAH!  I'M TALKING TO YOU TOO, OWEN!

An Accomplice

My sister has an accomplice.

A Christmas caper accomplice.

When we were growing up, Susan could never wait until Christmas morning to find out what her presents were.  She knew ALL of mom's hiding places for presents.  ALL of them.

She tore our house apart looking for presents.  I'm sure that she went through Carrie and Brenda's houses looking for her stuff too.  And I'm also certain that she would get mom's car key and go and look in the trunk.  (Yeah, mom.  We knew about that hiding spot too.)

She was a master at carefully opening the presents under the tree and retaping them without tearing the paper.  I never quite figured that one out.

And why did she do this?  Because she's nosey.  Nosey.  Nosey.  Nosey.

But, unfortunately for her, one time she was also kind of a stoopid teenager and she decided to wear the Swatch bubble watch that mom had bought her around the house.  It was similar to the ones in this picture.  I'm pretty sure it had an airplane in it.

The problem that that she forgot to take it off.  And when we went to see my mom at her work, Susan was waving her arm around my mom and my mom spotted the watch on her arm and totally busted her.

LOL

But now she's grown with her very own little paybacks.  Well, you would think that they would be paybacks.  But nope.  Instead of getting a payback, she has an accomplice.  She no longer has to sneak around looking for stuff or opening presents and rewrapping them.

Because even though Mary Mayken wants everyone to keep her secrets, she can not keep a secret herself and she told Susan what Sheldon was getting her for Christmas.

But shush.  Don't tell Sheldon that Mary Mayken told Susan.  It's a secret.

LOL

Shush...It's A SECRET!

Even at four, my niece Mary Mayken already knows how to play the game.

She is sure to grow up a politician.

Because she knows how to work the system like no one's business.

At Thanksgiving, I asked her if she was my best friend.  Her response was "totally" and we pinky promised on it.

And then she leaned in, putting her lips to my ears and cupping her hand around her mouth, she whispered, "I am your best friend, Aunt Kem.  But don't tell mommy.  It's our secret.  Okay?"

I said "OK!" and gave her a big wink and then made her pinky promise with me.

Feeling pretty secure in my number one best friend spot (because you know all girls have numbered their best friends in ranking order of importance), I told Susan that MM was my best friend.

Susan responded that she was everyone's best friend.  But I said no she was mine because we pinky promised on it.

Then I noticed her go over to my dad and whisper in his ear.  And then smiled big at him.  As she made her way over to Shane.

Dad whispered to me that she told him that she was his best friend.  But...shush.  Don't tell Aunt Kem.  Because it's a secret.

And she said the same thing to Shane.  But...shush.  Don't tell Poppa.  It's a secret.

Then she made her way to my mom.  And she told her that she had four best friends and Nanny was one of them.

LOL.

So then she continued around the room promising everyone that she was their best friend.

But...shush.  Don't tell anyone.  It's a secret.

And then Ken and I decided to bust her on it.  And we both asked her who her best friend was at the same time.

Without skipping a beat, she said "you are both my number one best friends."  And, with a big wink to me, she stuck out her pinky to pinky promise me.

Stinker.

But she wouldn't pinky promise anyone else.  Unless I said it was okay.  She has her standards, you know!

But my dad finally got her to pinky promise him right before he left to go back to SC.  Because I said it was okay.  ;)

That girl already knows how to work the system!

She's everyone's best friend.  But...shush.  Don't tell.  It's a secret!

A Fate With Pinking Sheers

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

For many reasons but one is my love for comic strips.  I :heart: them.  I have said more than once on my blog that a good comic strip can make you feel like you're looking in the mirror.  The ones that I can identify with, I cut out and save.

And my mom does too.  I somehow got and kept a strip that she cut out in 1991.

Because once upon a time, the illustrator for the strip Nancy must have been sitting in my house when I was growing up.  Watching the whole ugly event unfold and thinking the entire time that they wanted...no needed...to get back to their drawling board and do the Sunday strip.

The whole ugly incident is so clear to me.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I was sitting at my parents kitchen at dinner one night.  We were all in our usual seats.  Dad was on the far side of the oval across from me.  Susan was beside me and mom was across from her.

Well.  Hold up.  Let me back up for about an hour prior to that.

My sister was mad at my mom because mom wouldn't take her to get her hair cut.  She was so mad and in a fit of anger, she said "screw her.  I'm going to cut my own hair."

So she did.

With pinking sheers.

In case you don't know what those are, here's a visual image to help you out.

That's right.  Jagged edges and all.  And mom's scissors looked EXACTLY like this pair.

So Susan commenced to cutting her bangs.  But she cut them too short.  They were probably a 1/2 long. And they were all jagged.

Because she used pinking sheers to cut her hair.

So after she cut...ie maimed...her hair, she was obviously upset and in tears.

AND THEN MOM CAME HOME.

/cue dark music

And that's when the real fun began.  We all sat down to eat dinner.  Mom was yelling.  Susan was crying.  The harder she cried, the harder I laughed.

And dad sat there with a stupid "what the hell happened here" look on his face.

And I couldn't stop laughing.  And she couldn't stop crying.  And my mom couldn't stop yelling.  And dad couldn't stop the look on his face.

And then my mom turned on me.  Because I was laughing so hard that I fell out of my chair.  So she nicely suggested to me that I either collect myself or go to my room.

So I went to my room.  Because that was some funny shit and I couldn't stop laughing.  (I'm still laughing thinking about it.)

And it took months for Susan's hair to grow out.

And years for my mom to get over it.  I guess that she was over it by the time that this strip came out 6 years after "the incident" because she cut it out.

And I saved it.

Because it's FUNNY.

Oh.  Did I mention my sister was 13 years old at the time?

Or that her best friend did the same exact thing a few weeks later to her hair?  With the same type of pinking sheers if I remember correctly.

Dumb teenagers.  I guess she showed my mom.  LOL.

A Blast From The Past

Owen had a birthday party to go to last weekend.  I drew the short end of the stick and took him.  It was at a roller rink so I decided to stay and help him.

It was like taking a step back into time.  I'm pretty sure that the rink hadn't been updated since the 1970's.  Except for the "baby rink" where you would learn to skate (ie - fall on your a double snakes) was now gone.  In it's place was a spot for the birthday parties. 

Pretty sure that they sell the same nasty "roller rink pizza" and suicide sodas that we drank too.  They did the hokey pokey (well, they not Owen because he could barely stand on his skates) and some other games that put me into a time warp. 

At least they weren't playing Disco Duck, YMCA or Freeze Frame.  LOL

So I figured out that by the time I was Owen's age, I was a roller rink rat.  Susan and I had been skating since we were four.  We were on the speed skating team in kindergarten and by the time I was his age, my folks were dropping us off at the rink on the weekends so we could hang out with our friends.  (And they could hang out with theirs.  LOL)

So anyway, I walked him --- more like carried him --- around the rink trying to keep him upright.  All the while he was goofing and trying to fall.  Ugh.  So then I decided that I would get a pair of skates and give it a try myself.

Instead of the cool speed skates with BAPP (BIG A$$ POM POMS) that I use to have, I had to rent a pair.

Haha.  I'm pretty sure that they've had these skates since the 1970's too.

So, I decided I better take a spin or two around the rink before I went back to Owen because he would surely pull me down with skates on.  It took me a few times around to get my legs under me but once I did, I was fine.

Well.  *I* was fine.  It was all of the landmines around me that were trying to bring me down.  You know, kids dropping like flies right in front of me.  Or the parent who thought that it was a good idea to skate carrying their child...when they couldn't barely skate themselves.

The best were the people that would hold hands and form a chain across the lane.  If you were lucky, they didn't all go down.  Because once one went down, they all went down.

And it was always right in front of me.  LOL

Or the kids who skates completely out of control.  In the wrong direction.  Coming straight at you with limbs flailing.  

But I didn't fall.  Oh.  I was skating in defensive mode with my hands up.  Looking like an NFL wide receiver waiting for a ball.  But I didn't fall.

We did have fun.  (Probably because I didn't fall.  It was so much more fun to fall back then.)  It was a total blast from the past.  Definitely going to have to take the kids back.

Origami: An Obsession of an 11 Year Old Boy

Shane has been obsessed with origami since he was 8.

Obsessed.

I never really got his fascination with it until I watched Between the Folds, a documentary about the art and science of origami and how it interrelates particularly with regards to math.

Ah.  Now it makes sense.  It combines his love of math and science and figuring things out with his desire to create things.

So he searches youtube for ideas and will scour google for hours looking for things to make.  He's made everything from boxes to bunnies to rabbits and everything in between.

He loves to make things while we're at restaurants and leave them for the waiters and waitresses.  If he can con me out of money, he'll make their tip into origami.

Here's part of the waiter's tip last night.

I love this little outfit. <3

And I love his obsession.  Well, not the trail of papers he leaves strewn about but I do love his creativity.  And especially his thinking outside the box!

An Unusual Sighting

I live in a state where it's illegal to smoke in a restaurant or bar unless that establishment has an area separated by a door and a different ventilation system (I believe.)  So in effect, an establishment has to have two separate areas entirely for it's smokers and non-smokers.

And I like it.  I've gotten use to being able to eat in a restaurant where the table next to you isn't smoking while you're eating.  And I can choose whether to come home from a bar smelling like an ashtray.  Or not.

So it's weird for me now when I go back to SC to go into a smokey restaurant or bar (gag). 

And even weirder when you round a corner and run right into one of these archaic things.  A rather unusual sighting for me these days.  How very 1970's.

 

Really.  These are the only ciggys that someone should be "smoking."  This was obviously a goof that my friends and I did when were were out and about in SC. 

And I totally remember "smoking" these when I was a kid.  It was cool.  But really.  Is that even cool anymore?  Or right on any level?

Either the real ones or the candy ciggys?

Um.  No.

Wow.  File this under things that make you go "hum."

The Beverly Hillbillies

My children are trying to make my yard look like we are the Beverly Hillbillies.  They think that the outdoors is just an extension of the house and they can just drop whatever it is that they're playing with in the middle of the yard and leave it there.

Or the cul-de-sac.

Or the neighbor's yard.

Or the trees.  Yes.  The trees.  I found a soda can nicely propped up in the little bush outside of my garage a few days ago.

Which, by the way, they're not allowed to have.

But apparently my kids aren't the only ones trying their best to make our yard be "that yard".

Because I found the next door neighbor's kid's sweatband in the front yard.  And I gave it back to him.

Then I found it again the next day.  In my front yard.  :-|

And then I found his football glove in my driveway this morning.  :rolleyes:

So yeah.  If you drive by my house, please don't judge me by the crap strewn about the yard.  I'm trying my best.

They just make messes faster than I can pick them up.  And yeah, yeah, mom.  I get it.

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

A Journey Into A Child's Visual Related Problems...The Continuation

Most people see the cute turkey below and say to themselves "Meh.  So what?  It's a kids Thanksgiving story."

But I don't.  I see the kid behind it.  Who worked so hard to be able to write like that.  Where you can, you know, actually read what he wrote.

For those of you who have followed my blog, you will remember Owen's struggles with his vision so you know Owen has worn glasses since he was four.  But the vision problems he had are not related to his 20/20 vision (or lack there of!)  Lucky for him, he got an extra special vision issue to deal with where his eyes weren't focusing properly and were causing him to see two of everything.

Lovely, eh?

Well.  It is lucky for him that he had very good teachers who worked with me to figure out what was going on and a GREAT eye doctor, Angela Tsai, who helped diagnose him with Binocular Vision Disorder and Colleen Hairston, his AWESEOME eye therapist.  We are one of the few lucky ones who hit the nail on the head when we first started noticing that something was going on.

Many other kids, and their families, aren't so lucky because the kid continues to struggle with academic and behavior issues that go undiagnosed for years and are often misdiagnosed as ADD or ADHD or any other diagnosis that will make the problem "go away."

The issue is that the problem, and the struggles, never "go away."  Instead they are brushed under the carpet with the kid being medicated because that is the easiest thing to do.  Unless they are correctly diagnosed and help given to the child.

But this isn't going to be a rant about that.  Instead, this is just to update you on Owen's progress with his vision problem.

Since I last blogged, Owen started Occupational Therapy to address the fine motor skills issues that he had due to the vision delay.  The fine motor skills (which particularly manifested itself in his writings and drawings especially) had to be addressed but we didn't want to do it at the same time that he was doing intense vision therapy.

He had a recent evaluation and they released him from his individual occupational therapy stating that his visual perception is now where it needs to be in relation to where other kid his age are at.

Now I don't really understand all of the medical jargon in the letter.  What I do understand is:

1.  Owen made a 3 (equivalent of a b) in handwriting this past report card.  He brought that up from a 1 (equivalent of a d/f).

2.  You can actually read his writing!  And he can use regular paper.

3.  His sentences now begin on the left hand side of the paper.  Where before they were all over the page.  Starting where ever he wanted to start them.  Continuing a sentence where ever he wanted to continue it and stopping it where ever he wanted to stop it.  He can actually make a column of numbers now and follow it!

4.  His letters aren't being reversed any longer.

5.  His ability to track a ball is so much better.  He made four interceptions at flag football this year.  He was moved up to the 9/10 year old class in tennis.

Because he can see the ball.  The ONE ball.  Not two coming at him that he was seeing before.  

6.  He's no longer a behavioral problem at school.  He is paying attention in class and not goofing off in order to avoid the work.

7.  He feels good about himself.  He has confidence in himself and no longer feels different from the other kids.  That is key and probably the most important change I've seen.

So anyway, that's where we're at with him.  I am going to make an appointment with his eye doctor and get her to reevaluate him from her perspective.  I'll keep you updated!

Helpful Hints for a Healthy Thanksgiving

I'm all about sharing helpful hints.  You know.  Things that you have learned and want to share with others to make their lives easier and more complete.

So today's helpful hint is all about how to have a healthy Thanksgiving. 

If you're like millions of other Americans, you are cooking a huge, delicious meal for your family.  You've remembered the turkey, mac and cheese (if you're southern!), cranberries, rolls and pies.

But then you start feeling guilty because the only "vegetable" on your table is a pan of sweet potatoes loaded down with brown sugar and marshmellows. 

In order to feel like a good parent, you quickly stick some canned corn in the microwave at the last minute.  Because that's the BEST vegetable to feed your family to help alleviate your guilt.

But truth be told, it's the only vegetable that you could find in your pantry on such sort notice.

And if you've gone to all that trouble to fix a healthy vegetable for your family, don't forget to take it out of the microwave. 

Remembering the corn in the microwave as you're eating dessert.  :p

Not that *I* would have ever have done that or anything.  Because remember.  I said that I said that I like to share helpful hints that I learned.

I didn't say "how" I learned them!

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!

Wacky Wednesdays

Owen decided to bring it back to the 1970's last week for wacky Wednesday.  He wore my toe socks from when I was his age.  (I have no idea why I still have them.)

And rocked them good.  I remember wearing them when I was his age.  At the roller skating rink.  I just dated myself, didn't I?  :p

The wacky part of the get-up was the socks. 

Accompanied by the Redskins t-shirt.  :p

His Calling

Owen has found his calling in life.  In Old Navy.

I am so proud!

Maybe I should check the want ads for him.  :D

Boys. Sometimes That's All You Can Say

Boys.  Sometimes that's really all you can say.

A friend of mine was lamenting the fact that her 7-year-old daughter requested that she was a certain pair of jeans for school.  Last night at 9, of course. But along with this request came a clarification that her mother actually WASH the jeans and not try and punk her by putting them in the dryer and fluffing them with a dryer sheet.

That's my kind of friend!

But I told my friend that she should count her blessings that her daughter even cares that her clothes are actually clean.  My boys would wear dirty clothes WITH stains, wrinkles and stink and NOT notice or even care that they were wearing dirty clothes.

And you know they wouldn't changed their undies for days if they can get away with it.

Owen took a shower the other night and the next morning, I was giving him his clothes for school. I looked at the undies that he was wearing and they were the same dirty ones from the previous night. The ones that he had on before his shower. I asked him about it and he fessed up.  He put back on his dirty undies AFTER he took a shower.

Boys.  Sometimes that's all you can say. 

Communication

Communication.

It's such an easy concept really.  It's where you let someone else know what's going on, and what you need from them, in a clear, concise, easy to understand way and within enough time so that the person with whom you intend on carrying something out or acting upon such communication can do so with as little questions as possible.

If you communicate clearly, there should be no questions about what the other person or party is suppose to do or know.  And when they don't do it, at least you know that you've done your part in communicating what your expectations are.

Well, this is all in theory I suppose.   It shouldn't be.  But it is.

Because for some reason lately, no one can communicate clearly what they expect, or understand what is expected of them.  So I guess people also are having difficult comprehending what is communicated to them as well.

But the kicker is when you have communicated clear what you expect, and it's not done, and the people who you know have been communicated with, just disregard what you have already communicated (in a very clear fashion, I might add) and then don't take responsibility when they do something wrong.

Or the other kicker, when someone expects you to do something, but doesn't communicate it in any of the 15 ways available in this day and age, and then gets mad at you for not doing what they expected you to do...even though they never communicated it to you.

And this isn't directed at just one person or group of people.  Unfortunately, it's something that I've noticed happening more and more lately.  And it's not children that are doing it.  And it's really not acceptable.

How can we expect kids to learn how to be effective communicators if we, as adults, can't even communicate what needs to be done in a clear and concise way that allows others to know exactly what is expected of them and when it's expected?

Seriously.  If you think that I'm talking to you, I probably am.

And if you expect me to do something, then you need to communicate that clearly and concisely so that I know what you want and what you want from me. Because I am darn going to do that for you.  You can be sure!

And here's a closing thought...

Bad planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.

Poker - The Double Meaning :-|

Oh man.  Owen's like butter.  He's been on a roll lately.  Some of the things that comes out of that child's mouth leave me with my jaw on the floor.

Ken played in a poker tournament fundraiser for one of my friend's son's sports team this afternoon.  Shane came in and asked me about the poker tournament.

Owen piped in to clarify that Ken went to a "poker" tournament, not a "poke her" tournament.

And then giggled hysterically.

:-|

What An Excuse!

A few days ago, Owen missed school because he had the cooties.  I had to write an excuse for his absence.  I should state that his teacher has a really good sense of humor.

The note said "Please excuse Owen from school yesterday.  He had the cooties.  Ewww.  Gross."

Well.  He did and they were.

The only problem is that evidentially his teacher's last day was Wednesday because she went on maternity leave.  But I didn't know that because Owen was out of school.

So she never saw the excuse.

But her substitute teacher did. 

:-|

Classmates

Most of the time, the boys are really very mature (well, except when they purple nurple each other) but sometimes one or the other says stuff that reminds you that they are, in fact, still kids.

Owen:  Mom, did George Washington go to Ferry Farm?

Me:  Yes son.  He lived in Ferry Farm.

Me:  Oh wait.  Are you asking if George Washington went to YOUR school?

Owen:  Yes.  Did he go to my school?

Me:  (Stiffling a giggle)  No, Owen he did not go to your school.

Then we had a conversation about why George Washington didn't go to his school and why he couldn't have been a classmate of anyone at his school.

God I love that kid.  :)

It's That Time of Year!

It's that time of year!

Such an awesome time of the year.  You look forward to it in July.  When it's hot outside and you can wish for nothing else.

What is it, you ask?  Well, it's not Thanksgiving or Christmas or snow.

Oh no.  It's *much* more important than that!

It's that time of the year when Nabisco releases their Mallomars.

Nothing better than mid-November when you're push your shopping cart down the cookie isle looking wistfully to where they will soon be (you know, between the Pinwheels and the Snack Well Devils Food Cake cookies)  and low and behold, there sit your Mallomars.

And just then the heavens open up, the sun shines down up the Mallomars (just not too hot because we wouldn't want to melt their delicate chocolate), The Carpenters begin playing in the background and everything else fades away.

You quickly grab a box and then have to make a decision about whether to start stockpiling them now or take your chances that they will be gone later.

Oh heck.  You shamelessly grab at least four boxes.  Because you figure you can get a few more later.

Mallomars.  Quite possibly the best cookie ever made!

Every Parents Nightmare

The innocent conversation starts out like this.

Kid:  Mom, my head itches.

Parent:  Oh no!

And then the chaos begins.

If you're a parent, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

It's the L word that no one wants to hear or acknowledge and especially not deal with.  And every parent has had that moment where their you-know-what wrinked tightly because they knew exactly what they will  have to deal with if their kid has lice.

And sometimes you get lucky and dodge the bullet.

And others, you're not so lucky.

So then you're left with dealing with lice.

And let's just go ahead and call it what I now refer to it as: f'ing lice.  (This is cleaned up for my mom.)

And as you have probably already figured out, we weren't so lucky this time and didn't dodge the bullet.

And instead of going through it all over again, I'll just cut and paste a copy of an email that I sent to my friend last night at 10:57 last night.

Dear Friend:

well f&$*

Shane and Owen have lice. 

Owen said his head itched so I checked him and sure enough I found a lice.  Ewwww.  Gross.  And then I checked Shane and sure enough.  Ewwww.  Gross.  We had a scare about a year ago (my nieces were over here and they had it) so I had lice killing shampoo and everything.  I shampooed them to kill the lice.  And then combed through their hair.  And then stripped all of the sheets and sprayed the beds down.

And then washed the sheets and continued operation freak the f&$* out. 

Did I mention that it was 9:30 pm when this all started?

Or that Owen had just pulled his tooth out?

He was so excited and I was like...whatever.  Put it over there.  We have to deal with your LICE.  Ewwww....f&$*....ewwww

I am *so* wrapping up parent of the year award!

So I didn't see any eggs.  There were only a few (f&$*ing gross) lice so maybe I caught it early.

I f&$*ing hope so.

So, needless to say, I'm not sure what's going to happen tomorrow.  I'll probably keep them out of school.   F&$*

I'll have to call the school (both of them) and ask what the policies are..

F&$*

Don't hold the meeting for me.

F&$*

At this point, I'll apologize to my mother for my potty mouth.  I'm sorry mom.  Really I am.  It was just the "perfect" word for the oh-so-sucky occasion.

Anywho, my day started out at 5:30 this morning with me continuing the laundry that has now piled up from last night.  And that has been an ongoing thing since then.  I hope my washer and dryer survives it!

I also took a trip over to the elementary school, where I saw Owen's poor teacher in the nurse's office getting checked.  I apologized profusely and reminded her that Ken brought her chic-fil-a last week.  Somehow I don't think that makes up for it if she, or her class, ends up with L.

The nurse checked all three of us.  No nits or lice and cleared Owen to go back to school.  Whew.  Not the school part but the fact that there weren't any nits.

And then we took a trip over to Shane's school where the nurse there also checked and cleared us.  (Might I add that Shane was mortified that his friends would see Owen and I in the school and asked if he could go when classes weren't changing.  Ha.  Bonus!)

And then we proceeded to go to Wal Mart (ugh...mom would even agree that the f bomb was appropriate here) and then to Wegmans to get the groceries.  And should I just say that the boys were on their very best behavior as they always are at the grocery store.  :/

After that, we came home where I proceeded to continue doing laundry and vacuuming anything and everything.  I also considered taking valium, which I probably would have had I have had some.  Because this day has tee-totally sucked.  TOTALLY.

We then jumped in the car and went to the barber.  Where the boys proceeded to get their hair cut.  Because why not?

First up, Owen.  He totally wanted a buzz cut but I just couldn't do it.  Had he have had nits, he would be rocking that do totally!

Shane was next.  Cut it off baby!

I think that they think it's a joke.  This ain't no joke.  This sucks!

All I can say is thank the lord that Shane is no longer rocking the Shaney Ray Cyrus mullet!

So here I sit on the couch with the washer and dryer going and eating my dinner.  A bowl of Lucky Charms.  Because why not?  I deserve it!  I suppose it could be worse.  There are far, far worse things that a parent has to deal with but this pretty much hits the top of the list of sucky things about being a parent.

And now I'm going to write "eradicate f'ing lice" on my to-do list and then put a half a check by it.  Because I'm not fooling myself that it's over.  But I'm hoping that it will be a full-on check soon!

ICE ICE Baby!

I was talking to a friend the other day about an awful accident that her brother-in-law was in that his parents found out about it when they were watching the news.  It was a horrendous accident that left their son in a coma.  So obviously he wasn't able to tell them who to all.

The police had his cell phone but didn't call any of the contacts.  Apparently they won't call a random number on the phone.  If he had had an ICE (In Case of Emergency) number on his phone, they would have called that number.

I don't know if this is universal or specific to the state we live in but it's a good idea to put that on your phone just in case.

Did you think I was going to blog about this Ice?

Although I did like his SONG growing up, this is much more important!

So remember....add an ICE to your cell phone!

A Good Role Model

Owen told me he got into trouble at school and handed me a note from the teacher.

I was all ready to ask him what he did this time and then I saw what he handed me.

What a good boy he is!  :)

He's His Own Person!

Owen's not right.  Let's just go ahead and put that out there.

And while we're at it, let's just go ahead and put it out there that he's my mini-me and totally my payback.  TOTALLY.

He doesn't care what people think.  And if he thinks that you are judging him on something, it will make him want to do it that much more.

But that part I like.  I like that he doesn't fall into peer pressure.  He is his own person.

But that could totally come back to bite me square in the a-double-snakes later on but for right now, it's pretty cool.

On Wednesdays, the kids at his school can wear a hat if they donate a dollar to the general fund that is used to help families in need.  I asked him which hat he was going to wear, thinking that he would choose the Redskins or something.

But, no.  He went straight for *my* pink Washington Nationals hat and put it on his head.

When I asked him if he was sure about that, he said definitely.  He said that he was wearing it to bring attention to women's breast cancer and he didn't care what the kids thought.

Well, he came home from school and, as expected, said that the kids made fun of him.  I asked him how he handled it, he said that he told them to be quiet and then informed then WHY he was wearing it.

He said that he would wear it again next Wednesday.  He doesn't care what they think.

So, today is wear sunglasses to school as part of the DARE awareness week.  Of course he's not going to wear just *any* pair of sunglasses!

Heh.  I love that kid!  :heart:

Picture Day

School picture day came and went and most kids were dressed in their finest attire.  Dresses and pretty bows for girls and "monkey suits" for the boys - ie Khakis and button down shirts.

Well, for most boys that is.  Owen and Shane dress themselves for picture day.  This year, I asked Owen what he was going to wear.

He responded that he was wearing a football jersey ~ just like he has every year. 

He goes on to tell me that he plans on wearing one every year in elementary school, middle school and high school.  And then he's going to wear a jersey when he gets his drivers license so his drivers license picture has a jersey on it as well.

That kid isn't right.  I feel sorry for his future wife, I mean football widow. 

Karma Sweet Karma

Lordy.  Busy, busy day today!

The best part was when I had to take Shane to school late.  Because there was a fire drill at the school, we had to sit in the van and wait for ALL of his classmates to go back into the school.  And they were all waving at him as they filed past him.  He was MORTIFIED.   The more they waved, the lower he sank into the seat. 

You know.  The seat RIGHT BESIDE ME!

Ha.  That my friends is how karma, sweet karma works her awesome magic in paying him back for LYING to me that I wasn't allowed to come and have lunch with him.

Ha!

Owen Has A Strategy

Owen had math homework the other day.  It was adding three digit numbers together.  (Like 234+425)

The teachers teach math in a variety of ways these days.  They give them several ways to figure out a problem and then leave it up to the kids to figure out the best way for them.

So I asked him how he was going to work out the problems.

He went and grabbed his calculator and said that he was going to use that.

I told him that he wasn't allowed to use the calculator.

He emphatically stated that he WAS allowed to use it.  He went onto explain that his teacher said that they may use any strategy that they want to use to get the answer.

And using the calculator was his strategy. 

:p

I guess his teacher is going to have to rephrase how she assigns homework.  I don't think that she took the literal kid into consideration when giving them their assignment.  lol

Chicago...All In Pictures!

Ken and I recently took a trip to Chicago.  Of course, I took approximately one million pictures.  Okay, that may be a slight exaggeration.  It was only 999,999.

There is so much to do in Chicago.  A good place to start is at the John Hancock Observatory where you can get a great overview of the city from the top of the building.  Oh.  And you can have a drink too.  :p

Stop by the Sports Authority if you get a chance.

And see how your girly hands stack up to Michael Jordan's.  :p

Or your girly man hands if the case may be.

 

Proof that beer pong is, in fact, a sport.

After you leave Sports Authority, head to Portillo's for lunch.

 

 And droll at the menu...

 And then go ahead and order yourself a hotdog and fries.  And go ahead and add a milkshake to that order because you've already consumed so many calories, you've blown it for the week anyway.

 

Take a stroll down Michigan Avenue and shop til you drop if you're so inclined.  (Tracy, Kelly and Traci, I'm talking to you!!!!)

Be sure to find the Billy Goat Tavern and have a drink. 

Did someone mention eating and drinking their way through the city?  First stop should be Gibsons Steak House.

Meat.  Sides.  Drinks.  Drooling just thinking about the meal...

Oh...and the desserts...the desserts...

Be sure to take an architectual boat cruise of the city.  The architecture of the city is just awesome!

My favorite picture from the boat tour.  See the window washers?  The picture really shows the size of the building.

That's our retirement house boat.  Right there on the left.  Bahahaha.

One of the many buildings represented in the exterior of the Chicago Tribune.

Instead of the Waffle House, head to Five Faces for a late night snack.  It's in the Gold Coast area.

Be sure to use the EL train.  It's an easy way to get around the city!

And I did say that we ate and drank our way through the city, right?  ;)

True Chicago style pizza is awesome!  Nothing like Unos that tries to fool East Coasters into their "version" of Chicago pizza.  Lou Malnarti's.  Um.  Enough said...

And when you're in Chicago, be sure to head to PJ Clarks for lunch and hang out with old friends that you haven't seen in a very, very long time.  Forget the sightseeing.  Football and beer in a local bar is sightseeing!

Chicago.  It's the place to be.  Of course we caught a Cubs game.  And I've already posted a few of my favorite pictures.  Chicago is definitely on the revisit list.  Seriously awesome!