Nice Boots Officer!

We had a very exciting visitor! As I was cleaning up lunch, about the time that my house at the highest level of chaos with toys strewn about the whole living room and every child showing evidence that nap time is coming near, animal control pulls in my driveway.

I’m thinking that it is not the gold fish who have caused an issue. That leaves Libbey Dog and Parker Dog. I give them the “what did you do?” look skulk in their beds until the doorbell rings, signaling both dog and child to begin running around in circles at operating at volume level “Very Loud.”

“Hello Officer. Please come in. What can I do for you?”

“Your neighbor…”

Out comes Greyson, fully naked, jumping up and down and screaming with glee, “HiMr.PoliceManIPoopedCanISeeYourBadge? Please!?” Awww he said please. I am pretty used to having to remind kids, “It is not appropriate to have a naked butt anywhere but the bathroom. Please go find your pants.”

As a matter of fact, as I am typing I just had to take a time-out to issue a threatening reminder. “If you want to play with the flashlight you need to find pants. I don’t care if you are looking for dinosaurs. Dinosaur hunters wear pants. NOW.”

Not being very fazed by the little naked butt who is asking about guns, badges, and flashing lights, I reroute G back to the bathroom to wipe, wash and dress.

“Now Officer, what were you saying about my neighbor?”

“Yes, your neighbor called us and complained…”

Enter flirt-face Kinsley dressed in the usual triple patterned outfit combining polka dots, and two flower patterns. Oh look, she got dressed up for the officer and now has a headband…going across her forehead like she is that guy from X-Men with the laser beam eyeballs.

Batting her eyelashes and tipping her head to the side, she pats his foot and coo’s “I yike you sinnney boots.”

“Yes, Kinsley, those are very nice boots the police officer has on. Now, what about my neighbor?”

Please note that during this entire chaotic conversation, I have blocks, cars, baby dolls, and silverware strewn about my living room. I’ve long since apologized that my house is a mess and have adopted the rule that any object that is a primary color is NOT a mess but is a learning tool. Also during this time, the dogs have decided that this could have nothing whatsoever to do with them and must be a messenger sent to offer them smell-goods that they are ferociously taking in by sniffing every square inch of this man.

Finally we get to the offense. It would seem my dog decided to go to the elderly neighbors house and poop in her yard so she calls the police. SHE CALLED THE POLICE BECAUSE MY DOG POOPED! Now I in no way think that it is polite to let your animal poop on someone else’s property and had I known I would have cleaned it up. HAD I KNOWN I WOULD HAVE CLEANED IT UP.

In other words, my neighbor who I have never met in person since we moved in last fall, could have TOLD ME instead of sending a man with a bullet proof vest to my house to be interrogated by a half naked poop crack kid and a two year old flirty flirt diva while being nose molested by my dogs.

Wash It Down With Some Pepper Water

Let’s play “Make Believe.” We are going to make believe a mom is out to lunch with a friend of hers and has a significant number of her own children with her. In this make believe land the mother is half-heartedly paying attention to her children because she is very interested in the collaborative pondering of what her soon-to-be royal highness, Kate Middelton, will be wearing at her upcoming royal wedding.

In this land of make believe, mom notices that a child is playing with the salt & pepper shakers and vigorously shaking them into their water glass. 

“Stop shaking that. Do you think she will have a mermaid or something ruffly? I SAID stop shaking that.” The mother carries on in her dual-conversation that would make the untrained ear believe she has a personality disorder. 

Contemplation of serious matters, like veil length, carry on until one of the shaker-shaking child begins to carry on himself and bursts in to wails. A moment of alarm crosses the mother followed by several moments of embarrassment as other diners begin to stare. Then there is the time of confusion...what's the issue little dude? Mother then takes note: not only do they have salt, pepper and garlic seasoning at the table but they also have cayenne pepper. CAYENNE PEPPER!

I don't know that I have ever had cayenne pepper, but I would have to imagine that it is not something that be wonderful to sprinkle on my tongue.

In make believe, mother and friend are laughing to the point that they have their own tears as the child frantically attempts to wipe the burn off his tongue, drool begins to puddle on his chin. Now people are REALLY starring! 

Mother offers the child a sip of water. Unfortunately, in make believe land the child has already seasoned the water with pepper. Now he suffers from cayenne pepper and water pepper tongue. 

Let’s just say for the sake of conversation that this WAS me. Do you think this is why I didn’t get an invitation to Kate & Will’s big day?

Chunkaliciousness Preventerness

I think I would make a very good rich person. I have excellent taste and am constantly thinking of things I would like to have. I enjoy presents and making charitable donations. There is a long list of places I would be happy to travel to, and while there, I want to make sure to fully embrace the local culture by site-seeing, shopping and eating out. When I return home, I’ll maintain my rich-person physique by having my trainer and Yoga master visit me at my home gym.

Instead there are these ordinary things I have to pay for, like diapers and cable television. The reoccurring conversation regarding finances happens and Hubs asks “Don’t we know anyone rich?”

Does he mean Daddy Warbucks or The Trump? Sorry sweets, I lost their numbers when I got my new cell phone. Looks like we will have to find our own way to personal fortune.

There are so many times that I see an invention and wonder why didn’t I invent that?! So I am going to invent something. You ready for it, this is a good one…

The Sippy Cup Alert

There are few things that can make you feel like you are in the Un-Spectacular Parent category more than when your child hands you their sippy cup and says “This is not good.”

Try to hold back panic and suppress “ew” face as you look at the cup thinking, that cup has a yellow top. Your milk this morning had a RED top. I am sure it had a red top because I remember thinking what a spectacular parent I was for color coordinating your sippy cup with your shirt (this is taken from actual trying-to-be-spectacular parenting thoughts.)

 I distinctly remember it started the thought process going about how we could have a whole “red” themed day with sliced strawberries at breakfast, red jello for lunch dessert, discussions on fire trucks and fire safety. I am currently online looking up fire safety worksheets and crafts while you are handing me a cup with a YELLOW top. Yellow does equate with fire safety exercises.

I was going to be a spectacular parent today until you had to go and drink from the chunk-o-licious cup lurking somewhere under some furniture that is trying to sabotage my spectacularness. Hoping that it was only under there from last night or I am going to jump from un-spectacular to cruel and disgusting. I don’t remember, did we sing about yellow submarines yesterday or was it the day before? Crap.

I would like to think that I am not the only parent who has had the guilt stricken feeling of finding a cup that once held liquid and now contains something of mixed substance. Introduce the Sippy Cup Alert.

This handy dandy alert made of BPA, waterproof, lead-free, non-choking size can be applied (I don’t know how yet, those are details I am still working on) to any sippy cup. Once applied, a timer will begin, counting down two hours. If the timer is not reset, oh yeah I’ll make it a child proof button too, then an alarm will begin sounding.

Mom. I’m growing chunky. Mom. Mom. Chunky. Chunky. Moooom. It will grow louder and louder until reaching the annoyance level to capture your attention: MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM. MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM. CHUNNNNN-KKKKKKYYYYYY.

No more chunkaliciousness around here. As an added bonus, being that I am the inventor of this helpful parenting tool I will become very wealthy. This item will be sold exclusively through Amazon and infomercials.

I SUPPOSSE I could just practice responsible parenting and keep track of the cups but that is not going to earn me a cook, butler and personal trainer the way a Sippy Cup Alert will. BUT THAT’S NOT ALL!!!

For a limited time offer, when you purchase the Sippy Cup Alert you will also get a cow. FREE. Yes, why keep track of milk cups, when you can buy the Sippy Cup Alert and get the cow for free! Everyday your child can have chunk-free, organic, home squeezed utter-milk.

Princess' Pick Boogers

Greyson: Let’s go.

Kinsley: Okay. Let’s go to Mema’s house.

Greyson: No. We are not going to Mema’s house. We are going to the garbage truck’s house.

Kinsley: Okay. The garbage too?

Greyson: Yes. We’ll take the garbage too. On our bike. Don’t pick your nose or you can’t be a garbage truck driver. 

Kinsley: I pick my nose and I put it on you. Ha! 

Greyson: That’s it. You can’t be a garbage truck driver. Go be a princess.

Sorry Boss, It's Too Crunchy Out Today.

I am really not a person for excuses. Just say the truth without finding a reason for it to be or not to be and then move forward. My kids are great at making excuses. They may be considering it as a profession.

Kinsley is less creative in her excuses and just says “No” in true 2 year old fashion.  But she is a quick learn and has started telling me that she can’t, it’s too hard. It doesn’t matter what it is. I could be asking her to go get herself a piece of chocolate and she just can’t, it’s too hard.

Greyson has advanced his skills to include theatrics with his excuse making. “I can’t pick up my toys. I can’t reach them.”  He will stand there reaching his hand out into the air just to show me that no he actually can’t reach the toys that need to be picked up.

Mom solution: Move your feet.

Lately, there is one excuse that seems to work for everything. Crunchy. Like the type of peanut butter. Crunchy.

Do you know that he can’t go potty because it is too crunchy? He also may need to take a bath in the middle of the day, not because he is infatuated with Kinsley’s birthday present that is a water spout, but because his tummy is feeling crunchy? His shirt too. He needs a new one. Also, it may be hard to be a good listener and put something in the trash can when asked because the floor (that I vacuum obsessively so don’t go thinking this has any merit) is too crunchy.

The greatest number of excuses involve sleeping. Sometimes it is just so hard for him to fall asleep. There could be any number of things preventing him from sleeping:

“It’s too sunny outside for me to sleep.”

Mom solution: Close your eyes. Eyes closed are better for sleeping and keeps the sun out.

“It’s too dark in my room to sleep.”

Mom solution: Close your eyes. Again, eyes closed are better for sleeping and then everything is dark anyway.

“I need another book. I am tired of reading this one.”

Mom solution: If you are tired, then you should just go to sleep. Going to sleep helps with being tired.

“My feet are too smelly for me to sleep.”

Mom solution: Stop smelling your feet. Put your head on your pillow and go to sleep.

So today, if you are one of the fortunate people who were are able to shower, get dressed, drive in a car that is not have “Ring Around the Rosie” on repeat in the CD Player, but you just don’t feel like working…just tell your boss that project is just too  crunchy. If she asks for clarification, simply repeat. It’s too crunchy out today. Sorry, I would really like to get those financials to you but the air is too crunchy. No I did not say that I am IN a crunch, I said it's TOO CRUNCHY. Duh, don't you listen? Maybe after lunch.

Happy Buck-Tooth-Ghost-Ferret Day

I am a major fan of holidays, of any holiday. When there isn’t a real holiday, I make them up. I’ve already confessed to throwing a birthday party for my dog. I celebrate “Wear Polka Dot” day, Dr. Suess Day, and Chocolate Ice-Cream Day. Being that there is an official, on the calendar and a section at Hallmark, holiday approaching you would think that I would be in the festive spirit. The truth of it is, the whole Easter holiday leaves me feeling a bit confused.

For starters, I need a “How to describe Easter for dummies.” I really don’t know what to tell my kids on the matter. They are so far from comprehending the concept of death that I really can’t delve into crucifixion and resurrection. I am opting out of this parenting teaching moment and if any questions shall arise (no pun intended) then I shall forward children to Papa. My parents went to Catholic school; the nuns should have taught them an appropriate answer to that one. On a side note, I realize I am writing this that this MAY be related to why no one has named me as a God-Parent, I realize that may be a wise decision.

Moving past the religious elements that have already left me feeling bewildered, I have no idea how Easter has anything to do with rabbits, or how rabbits have anything to do with jelly beans. I also have no idea how eggs have anything to do with Easter, rabbits, or jellybeans. This is a whole cluster.

My next issue is with the Easter Bunny. He is a little too similar to a mouse/squirrel/ferret of which I am already terrible afraid. Second, they have disproportionate ears and teeth. The better to hear you coming and chomp you to bits my dear.  Third, I had a pet rabbit as a child. I have a great deal of unresolved guilt about the death of the pet rabbit and fear that little ghost rabbits are going to come get me. I really don’t know how to explain how this buck tooth ghost ferret gets in the house to deliver the Easter basket. Does he come down the chimney? And if so, how did he get on the roof in the first place?

Christmas has got the whole shebang all worked out. I’ve avoided singing Petter Cottontail, coloring eggs, and engaging in other Easter-themed crafts for fear of stimulating a conversation. Easter is just going to show up one day and then it will be back to Monday. In the meantime, I am going to continue talking about Santa and his helper-birdies who are spying on us to determine if we have good listeners or bad listeners.

Monday Resolutions

Every Monday is a bit like New Years Day for me. I make lots of resolutions on the top of parent/wife/woman I am going to be. And it is going to start NOW. At 7:00 a.m. this is what my plan entails.

I am only going to drink one cup of coffee, just one.

I am going to get the kids dressed every day, no lollygagging around in pj’s. Clothes. Socks too. Matching socks.

I am going to do the laundry. All of it. Wash it, dry it, put it away. Then I am going to make sure all of the dirty laundry gets put in the basket and taken downstairs, no more of these little laundry piles on the floor of the kids room, bathroom and my closet. Also, I am going to do laundry every day instead of letting it pile up for an entire week. I won’t even let it pile up in clean piles, I am going to fold it. AND put it away. Then I am going to take the stacks of clothes that are on top of the dresser from last week and put those away too.

I am going to make sure that Greyson doesn’t pee in his pull up. Not potty training is my failure not his. Every 15 minutes I will remind him to go. I’ll tell him how great it is. How proud I am. What a big boy he is! No more pee pee’d pull ups stinking up the bathroom trash.

When Bo calls to see how everyone is doing I’ll be able to tell him we are sitting down and coloring Easter themed pictures, talking about Spring and all things lovely. I will not rant and on and on about how so and so had to go to time out 15 times this morning and someone else took my shoe and won’t tell me where it is.

I will feed Arlo something other than mashed bananas. I am capable of making baby food that is NOT bananas. Maybe a vegetable. We will diversify. The bigs are going to eat more vegetables too. And me. I am going to eat more vegetables. Lots and lots of leafy green vegetables.

Then when the kids willingly go down for a nap, all tuckered out from the quality and stimulating interaction we had all morning and content with the nutrient rich lunch I created, I am going to exercise. For an hour. For a full hour. Then stretch for a half hour.

**UPDATE** At 10 am I’ve had six cups of coffee but the kids are dressed and have socks on. MATCHING socks. I am so pretty freaking awesome.

I tried giving Arlo green beans instead of banana’s. He cried. Spewing green beans all over his clean clothes. We then had to change his clothes AGAIN. However, I DID take the dirty shirt downstairs, starred at the monstrous pile to be washed, looked at the heaping  basket to be folded, came back up stairs and poured myself another cup of coffee.