my words

Why You Should Be Careful About Being Transparent

2012-01-18T09:06:00.001-08:00

Often I am transparent with my students because they need to see that adults/teachers are not without flaws; we make mistakes. Well I know I have and still do. It brings down walls and builds relationships.

Well I find myself doing this with our two kids at home too but I guess I can get caught up in the moment. As I rest my chin on the palm of my hand and prop my elbow on the table, I have gotten so caught up in the moments that I may have forgotten that I was talking to two little ones who have great memories.

I was really just laughing at myself many times.

So... I hear our eight-year-old son telling another adult nearby, "My mom used to go down in my grandma and papa's basement when she was real little and sneak to listen to this comedy man who used bad language."
I stop what I am doing and look around to take in what he is telling. When I do realize what he is referring to I trip trying to run in to interject. Hurting my boney, old knees.

But it was too late.

"His name was Ricky Pryor or something like that," he continued.

Still not sure why I told them that.

It's Showtime!

2012-01-03T16:16:00.001-08:00

Happy New Year!
We are continuing with our movement to make sure the kids eat healthy and stay physically fit. It's not a resolution but a continuation of what we regularly stress. So I made our 10-year-old daughter a doctor's appointment to shave her annual physical.
This would be a big deal because she is older and it would be more thorough physical. I wasn't sure what to expect really.
And on the way in our daughter asked the question that most kids ask... "Am I gonna have to get a shot?"
"No. You have had your shots," I replied.
I didn't think she would have to.
The nurse was very nice and patient. "Hun you can take your jacket and shoes off then jump up on here so we can get your weight and height."
Her weight was in the 75% range for others her age and in the 95% for her height... which is just a little under two inches to be even with me.
So the nurse took us in the room and asked her (daughter) to get undressed but she could leave her undies and socks on.
"Then put this on and you can use this part to cover your bottom half," the nurse added.
That was a hoot. She put the little shirtly-challenged paper on the wrong way and I never heard so much crinkly mess as she sat waiting for the doctor.
But the worst part hadn't come yet.
The nurse pointed out that our daughter needed two shots.
She started tearing up and cringing.
The nurse looked over at me.
"Ummmm...you are probably gonna need backup!" I told her, as I tried to calm her.
It was about to go down.
When the nurse brought in her cute little bag with the syringe, cleaning pad and medicine.
Our daughter had so many questions!
"How far are you gonna put that needle in my arm?
Yep! It was about to go down.
I tried to hold her but she's strong. They suggested bringing in another, stronger, male to help hold her still.
She heard that and began putting on a show!

Threat to Santa

2011-12-28T14:00:00.000-08:00

I thought, after all the intended hints I made during the weeks leading up to Christmas, that our son had accepted that Santa was us!

Last year he left a note for Santa and I did not try to use a different handwriting- I used my own to respond. But it was obvious by Christmas Eve night that he hadn't accepted it.

He needed proof.

His little fingers were moving late December 24th. He wrote a firm note to Santa and requested Santa's check to his elaborate "Yes" "No" boxes. He told Santa NOT to think about eating any cookies before reading and replying to his note. The little rascal and his sister neglected to bake the cookies after harassing me to buy them.

He also wrote for parents nor grandparents to sign or check the boxes. As if!

The letter was a hoot! I had to take pictures!

Christmas Memories

2011-12-24T16:01:00.000-08:00

It's Christmas Eve! It is killing our son to have to wait until morning to open his gifts. He just grabbed a candy cane from the tree and Daddy yelled, "No way!" I glared at him. "It's sugar and I do not want him wired tonight and up," he responded. I convinced him to let him have it. I mean it's Christmas time. "Okay. Maybe we can give him some hot chocolate spiked with some Ibuprofen," he mumbled.

He won't have to worry about the youngest one staying up late. He is never able to hang. He is all bark...no bite.

As I watch our son running around in his little elf hat, I started thinking about myself at that age on Christmas Eve. It was horrible what my uncles did! They convinced me that if I didn't shut my eyes really tight, not only would Santa not come down our chimney but he would shake salt and pepper in my eyes. I was young but I knew that if Santa was gonna bring me gifts he would have to come through the front door of our Section-8 apartment. But I really believed Santa would shake the salt and pepper in my eyes if they weren't tightly closed. So I laid still and closed my eyes tight... sweating... panting... hoping he would bring me that Easy Bake oven and that I would not get salt and pepper in my eyes nor would the ashes from my uncle's Newport cigarette get in my eyes.

And I caught one of my uncles and my mom eating the Chips Ahoy cookies I left on the coffee table! I remember getting up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. I saw a cookie raised to my uncle's mouth as he walked through the long, red, noisy beads hanging in the doorway that connected our kitchen and living room. But obviously Santa was nice and forgiving because he still left the Easy Bake despite not getting the snack I left on the coffee table.

Four Days Before Christmas!

2011-12-21T21:26:00.000-08:00

It's four days before Christmas! Our stockings have been hung by the... gas fireplace with care and we know Saint Knick will soon be here... sitting on the couch watching a movie and yelling, "Stop coming down here! Get in that bed!" while eating the fondled cookies the kids cooked for Santa. I will routinely get my pen out and edit the youngest's note left for Santa.

The youngest (eight) made myriad Christmas lists. I think he started in October. We received the final copy about two weeks ago. He took the time to put them in envelopes for Daddy, grandparents and me. He addressed each of us by our first names! Later I realized the nice envelopes went with some of my Christmas cards so four people will be getting a holiday card stuffed in a plain white business envelope.

He went so far as to list the item and the price! And on a few he cut out a picture of it and glued it beside the name. How considerate of him.

And finally, under our Christmas tree are only real gifts... that we (parents) have wrapped. Five years ago the kids had such big hearts. They used newspaper, masking tape and a little white athletic tape from Daddy's first aid kit, to wrap gifts for us! They used a Gordon's fish stick box to put SOME of our son's legos in. That gift went to Daddy. The other gifts basically consisted of broken toys or toys they no longer wanted.

I have hidden the masking, duct and scotch tape. I've also put away the wrapping paper, band-aids and boxes!

Black Friday

2011-12-21T21:02:00.000-08:00

I haven't written in a few months but that certainly doesn't mean that nothing has happened. We put away the vertically-challenged Mario and fitted Luigi costumes. I'm hoping to sneak them out of the bin when the kids aren't looking, and donate them to Goodwill. I can hear the kids inquiring about them next year, "Did you sell our costumes?" I've had maybe three yard sales and consigned toys and clothes a few times and they treat me like a crackhead!

November came and ushered in the biggest shopping day of the year- Black Friday! We've never talked to the kids about this day. I thought it was pretty simple- people break their necks to take advantage of supposed huge mark downs. I mean it's shopping!

Well our youngest obviously didn't understand all of this. He came up with his own meaning. One of his classmates told their teacher while waiting to go home for Thanksgiving break, "I can't wait for Black Friday!" "Really? Why is that?" she replied. He couldn't believe she didn't know about Black Friday. "Well he (pointing at our son) told us in class that Black Friday is when all the Black people get to go buy things really really cheap!"

Mario, Luigi and Skippity as the Ghost

2011-10-15T13:12:00.000-07:00

They are at it again! I surrender- throw my hands up! I realize we are not parenting experts but our two kids are intelligent and I thought we were doing a fairly good job. What they recently did has me a little skeptical about their futures and whether or not they will be ready to be on their own in about ten years.
Halloween is around the corner. I took them to Party City to get their costumes. I really thought our oldest is too old and too tall to still be dressing up. She's tall for a fifth grader but still a kid. So it was fairly easy to get costumes. They wanted Mario and Luigi costumes!
"Let me get an eight for him (pointing to our eight-year-old son) and a...um... (sizing our daughter up) what's the largest size you have for kids?" I asked the store associate.
"A fourteen!" he answered. "But she's kinda tall and we do have these costumes in the bigger (adult) sizes," he informed me.
I scanned the bigger size wall. Then went back to the kids' wall.
The fourteen was $19.99 and the bigger ones were $29.99.
Yes I know it was just a ten dollar difference but hey I could use that difference to get me two white chocolate mochas from Starbucks later in the week!
They tried them on and yes her one-piece was a little short and the crotch looked to be pulling but hey she could put on some blue socks to match it and call it a day. She wasn't complaining. Too busy practicing her Italian accent in the mirror with the mustache upside down.
The associate's eyes went directly to the bottom of the pants. "We could-"
"We'll take that one," I interrupted.
Unless he was going to add cloth to it or offer buy one get one free... his opinion was not gonna be needed anymore.
So they were elated! So elated that they tore into the costumes in the car on the way home. The giggling in the back seat with the attempted Italian accents made me turn the volume up on the radio.
"Hey! If you play with those mustaches and they don't stick on Halloween, I guess you will be using scotch tape, glue sticks or a black marker!" I warned them.
Well they weren't content with the two of them having costumes... they decided to make a ghost costume for Skippity.
I didn't know about it until I heard our son yell.
"She bit me!"
"Who bit you?" I asked as I ran to investigate.
His sister made the ghost costume and convinced her brother to put it on Skippity. And they thought it was okay.
Skippity is one of our two, red-eared slider turtles. And Skippity is feisty!
I could just see the little bubble above Skippity's head:
"Don't you realize I am a dag-blamed turtle?"

Are You Serious?

2011-08-01T18:26:00.000-07:00

So our son comes in this morning and asked, "Can I have some of these?" He dangled the bag of sour gummy worms, coated with sugar in 3-D close to my face.
Pulling back I yelled,"No! You haven't had anything to eat for breakfast yet!"
A few minutes later he came in skipping and snatched up the gummy worms.
"Woah!" I yelled, as I snatched the bag from him. "I told you that you have to eat something first."
"I did!" he said.
"What did you eat that quick?"
He turned toward me with a black and white substance in the corners of his mouth.
"I ate some cookies!" he celebrated.
Was he serious? Yep...that's what is so funny
Guess I need to pull out the Food Guide Pyramid.

Game

2011-07-30T20:33:00.000-07:00

The things our two little ones do are just... well I just can't think of a good adjective right now.
Daddy just told them that they were gonna start getting in the bed a little earlier. It's the summer so we have let them just stay up, but our oldest stays in the bed the next day as if she has a third shift job! It would be nice if she did because she eats as much I do.

Anywho...I have also told the two of them stories about things I did "back in the day" to get over on their grandma and grandpa. Had some successes and some failures. But I had game! They don't. And I am almost offended.

So we thought they were in bed. They were quiet and we hadn't heard from them for some time.
Well... the youngest comes in our room smiling and laughing.
"Guess what we're watching?"
I didn't answer. I just dropped my head and continued to read.
"What?" Daddy asked.
Still laughing and now joined by his sister, he answered, "The show with Keenan and Kel on Nickelodeon."
So of course they get fussed out and sent to bed. "Lights out, TV off!" Daddy yelled.
I had already given them ideas when I told them things I did. Put a towel under the door so the light can't be seen.
So they walk off blaming one another.
Shaking my head at them made me think about other hillarious things I did growing up. I remember my mom said she was going to spank me for something one day- no telling what it was. There was a long list of things to choose from back then.
So the day was coming to an end and it dawned on me- she hadn't given me the spanking. Oh I had to wake her up and get it over with. I shook her.
"Mama? Mama? Wake up," I whispered.
I had to wake her up. Had I let her sleep, she would have waken the next day refreshed and full of energy. Naw!

Mommy's Gettin' Fat!

2011-07-25T18:53:00.000-07:00

So I was sitting at the mirror experimenting with my hair when I overhear the two little ones in the next room.
They weren't trying to be discreet and they weren't fighting. It didn't feel right.
"She's getting fatter!" our son said.
"I know. Did you see her stomach?" his sister co-signed.
"It's probably her bad eating habits and sittin' around when it's evening time."
I stood up slowly and checked my mid-section in the mirror.
Sucked it in a bit.
It was sad that two minors were criticizing me. Yet they weren't laughing so it sound like they were just concerned.
"Well she has had babies to come outta there," our sweet little sympathetic son stated.
He was right about that. And they were big babies: she was 8 pounds and eleven ounces and her brother was nine pounds, eleven ounces. AND MY EPIDURAL DID NOT WORK!!!!!!! "Here baby you want some ice?" Daddy asked. "NO! I want you to have this baby!" Sorry I had a flashback.
"Hey! Maybe she is pregnant again!" our daughter said.
I turned to the side to see if I did look remotely pregnant.
There I was in the mirror panicking from the remarks of two elementary kids.
Then our son asked, "But which one do you think is the daddy?"
That was it!
I hurried in there.
There they were in front of the window, looking out at the stray cats they named earlier this year.
"Mommy...come look at Candice. She's getting fat- I mean overweight," our son said, covering his mouth.

Apples Do Fall Far From the Trees

2011-07-06T08:39:00.000-07:00

Our son is such a picky eater and Daddy can be so old school at times. I've learned that if we want to get our son to eat... just tell him it's chicken. Fish is chicken, steak is chicken and I am trying to figure out a way to make lasagna look like chicken.
No longer can we give the speech about how hungry kids in Africa and other countries would love to have the food. Last time we did that we found a note on the table, next to the food: "Ples give this to the hungre keds from me." I think our son was five then.

So Daddy will sometimes resort to standing around pulling his pants up, saying things like, "You will eat it before it eats you!" or he will go into how he had to eat whatever his parents put on the table. "And I couldn't get up until I finished it all!"

I try to remind him that those were different times. Time of survival for some. We are in a different time- different income so we don't have to fix unflavored oatmeal every morning and put heaps of it in that same brown bowl with no butter nor sugar and sit a drink in the middle of the table, not to be touched until all of the clumpy oatmeal is gone. I'm sorry I had a flash back. Back the story.

Well recently our son was the last one at the table sitting there moving the few vegetables around with is fork. His legs dangling from the chair. Then it hit me!
I had failed him and his sister. Well she eats just about everything. Even octopus. But during those times of talking about things I used to do as a kid... I failed to give them tips about things like...getting rid of food parents tell you to eat.

It was simple. I would let the adult walk by then put a spoonful of oatmeal or whatever the substance was, in a paper towel. Wait a bit. Then add another spoonful and remember to make a face and pretend to chew the next time s/he walks by. Do it a few times and space it out and Presto! It's all in the paper towel. No one gets hurt and no one gets sick. Then hide the paper towel under the sink while you wash dishes and remember to get it out in the middle of the night or next morning and strategically place it in the bottom of the trash can.

But I don't remember anyone teaching me this skill. Can this skill or should this skill be taught? As I glanced over at him- still playing with the few vegetables on his plate- I shook my head and thought, "Why is it not kicking in?"
I guess the apple does sometimes fall far from the tree after all.

Family Night's Scrabble Lesson

2011-07-02T21:19:00.000-07:00

I love family night! We try to make sure that we drop everything and read at least one night a week, and we make time to do something fun together- no television, not computers, nada! Just the four of us talking, laughing and having fun. One thing we enjoy is playing games. So this past Family Night we played Scrabble.
Daddy and I are serious Scrabble players! We buy the new editions when they come out.
Guess we hadn't played with the kids in a long time or our recently turned ten-year-old daughter just temporarily lost her mind. We each pulled our initial tile to see who went first, second, third and fourth. When it was time to pull our seven tiles to begin, she began pulling out a tile at a time- looking at each and deciding she which ones she liked and putting the ones she didn't like back in the bag in exchange for ones she did.
I noticed this while sipping my green tea. Of course I began chocking on it in disbelief.
Daddy, shocked too, yelled, "Naw! You can't do that!"
It startled her.
Realizing how he reacted, he quickly turned his volume down, touched her shoulder and apologized.
"I'm sorry baby girl. Daddy over-reacted. I shouldn't have yelled like that."
As we proceeded to play he told her that no man should ever yell at her and definitely should never hit her.
"I told your mom that if I ever verbally abused her or physically abused her, to immediately leave and take (looking over at her brother too) the two of you."
We all stopped playing and listened.
"Your daddy will always be there for you. I don't care if you are in...Japan, and your husband hits you, you call me and I will be there on the first plane!"
He added that she should not fall for any apologies nor "It will never happen agains."
"No one deserves that and especially not my baby girl. If someone loves you he would not hurt you!" he told her, as he stretched out his arms for a hug.
"Do you understand that?" he asked.
She smiled and nodded.
We went back to playing Scrabble.
About thirty seconds went by when our newly turned eight-year-old son seriously asked, "Well what if my wife is beatin' me up?"
While his sister laughed, Daddy and I began throwing our tiles in and blessing him out at the same time.

Hot!

2011-05-31T21:02:00.001-07:00

After getting dressed yesterday, our new eight-year-old tells me I look HOT! It was hard to hold back the smile. But I did stop for a minute to think, "What does he know about that?" But I didn't spend too much time thinking about that. The boy is growing up and he is definitely entitled to his opinion.

So I turned around to slip on my shoes and still smiling, when he said, "Daddy said it's gonna be in the high 90s so you are gonna be sweatin' in those clothes."

I Gotta Get It Together

2011-05-26T19:30:00.000-07:00

About three years ago I had minor surgery on my left knee. Prior to the surgery the physician said, "From the looks of your knees, you must have done quite a bit of running in your day."
I rolled my eyes and replied, "Yep! Ran from dogs quite a bit."
He laughed.
Yep!
And when dog owners would smile, while struggling to hold Fido on the leash, and say,"He won't bite," I would get on my mark. Guess Fido was trying to show me how nice and clean his teeth were.
And I never discriminated. I was an equal opportunity run from dogs runner- I ran from ALL dogs that showed the potential to harm.
When our two kids were two and maybe six months I would go for walks in the neighborhood with my neighbor. I figured I wouldn't have to worry about dogs in the wee hours of the morning because most of our neighbors were working during the day and kept their dogs in the house. One day while walking and pushing our strollers I hear barking. Wasn't sure how close the dog was or how big- just knew it had teeth. So I was off! About half-way through the dash I realized I left my stroller...with my neighbor. I looked back and she was standing there, in the street, bent over laughing. Then I look across the street and there was the big old mean...dachshund! I could barely see it running around its yard- chained.

Well I had made improvements over the years. Then the other day.
I was rushing to get somewhere. I got dressed and put on my new dangling, silver earrings. Then stuck my feet and my shoes and I was out the door.
As I made my way down the three steps from the back door, I heard what sound like a chain and a definite bark. Didn't wait to see where it was. I quickly turned around, hitting the door with my face, to go back in. I began acting like the victims on those scary movies we yell at- "Stop shakin' and turn the key!" I dropped my keys twice before finally getting in the house. As I ran to punch in the code for the alarm, I realized it was my new dangling earrings that sound like a chain. Then walked back to the door, stepped outside and realized it was our neighbor's old dog- inside his fence just barking because.
I gotta get it together!

No Worries

2011-04-23T13:43:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday we were rushing to get to church. I was in the mirror, as usual, trying to get every strand of hair in perfect position. Trying to see if it looked better up or down. Our daughter was humming and twirling, as usual. Daddy was patiently waiting and our son was drawing comics.
So I checked the time.
"Okay! We have 15 minutes! I'm ready!" I yelled, as I hopped on one foot- trying to buckle the strap on the other.
"Grab a jacket," I told our daughter.
As we reached the kitchen, ready to set the alarm, I noticed the jacket she grabbed.
"I don't know if I like that one. Let me look at it," I stood back to soak it in.
Daddy started punching the code on the keypad.
She twirled, smiled and said, "I LOVE IT!"
With time passing, I decided it was no BIG and we all quickly headed to the car.
I looked back at her and the chosen jacket and wished she'd chosen a different one but reminded myself that as long as she has the confidence to rock it then just go with it.
So we get to church and begin to walk the kids into their sanctuary when our daughter looks at me and says, "Mama... you took your hair down?"
I ran my fingers through it and replied with a smile, "Yep!"
She continued to walk in and said, "Oh. It looked better up."
I scooted back to the side mirror of the car to look it over, then walked across the lot to the adult sanctuary laughing.
I'm glad she doesn't worry as much as I do and I hope it continues.

Must Get Sharpened Pencils!

2011-04-16T11:47:00.000-07:00

We really need to pay more attention more when it comes to our kids. Our son, with his seven years of infinite wisdom, really knows what he is talking about; we just have to listen.
While he is a great artist, we are now cognizant of the characteristics he has to be a great attorney. With his new found interest in The Titanic, he has developed great research skills. He has found and read so many articles on this great historical ship and then questions us. He seems to think we are slack because we don't know as much as he does about the Titanic.
And he is a great debater. When he flares those little nostrils- WATCH OUT! Here comes an argument. And he knows he is right without a doubt. He can almost make you believe it too.
Recently, he dropped a bit in writing in school. While disappointed, we just know we will be on top of it more and pull back on some of his extra-curricular activities so he can get back on track with it. Well he schooled us on why it happened. It was really quite simple.
Nostrils flared... he said, "The only reason I didn't do better was because I never had sharpened pencils!"
We need to pay more attention to his needs. Maybe we will get him some sharpened Titanic pencils.

That Was Me on the Highway Swerving

2011-04-08T18:05:00.000-07:00

This will not be a long post. Doesn't need to be. I've gotta learn to be specific when I talk to our kids, and remember that things that are important to them just may not be able to wait.
Our son was really excited to show me something he received at school today and it was Friday so I should have been cognizant of that and how that could add to excitement and IMpatience.
As soon as he slides the door to get into the van, he begins talking.
"Guess what I got today?"
"Uh... and hey how are you?" I responded.
"Oh, hey!" he rushed. "But you gotta see it," he continued.
By this time his sister was sliding the door open to get in.
And they were off!
"You saw me coming but you slid the door shut!" she said.
"And how are you baby girl?" I routinely asked.
"Fine Mama and I was on green today," she rushed so she could get back to her brother.
I waved bye to the crossing guard, pushed the button to let the windows up so I could add my five cents to this little dispute trying to brew and drove out of the school parking lot.
After my speech I turned onto the highway to get home.
"I gotta show you what I got today!" our son shouted from the middle row.
"You're not thinking son. I am driving so I can't turn back to see it."
His little seven-year-young, thinking skills kicked in. In one quick move he unhooked his seat belt and put his huge comic book maker in my face. About one inch away.
"See Mama!"
So if you saw a white mini-van on I-40, near Kernersville, around 2:40 pm swerving... it was me.

The Nerve!

2011-04-06T08:02:00.000-07:00

It's unfortunate but we are going to have to make some adjustments to prayer requests and praying with our seven and nine-year-old.
Last night's prayer request was quite...merry!
Earlier, after school, the kids were discussing their plans to buy books from the school book fair.
"I'm gonna buy Diary of a Wimpy Kid The Last Straw and Rodrick Rules!" our son declared.
"Well, I'm gonna get three books!" our daughter added.
So I am at the red light listening to their plans then realized...
"Um... how are you planning to pay for these books?"
"Dove... with money Mama," our son scoffed.
His sister co-signed.
"But actually, the Book Fair people will probably use that machine for credit cards," our precocious daughter added.
"Oh! Since when did they give credit cards to little people? Who don't have jobs?"
I looked in the mirror to see their reactions.
They were making plans to spend their parents' money. Sigh
After explaining that Daddy and I work and that buying books from their school book fair every year isn't a necessity... I told them that they could earn some money.
They offered to wash my mini-van! Awesome because I hate washing cars.
"How much can we get for it?" our son asked.
I had to consider that spots would be missed, that they will play more than they will work, etc. but ultimately it would be for a good cause: reading and adding books to our collection.
"$20!" I answered.
They thought it was for each of them.
"Oh no. You have to divide that."
So you will have to find other ways to earn more money if you need it.
Which brings me back to prayer requests.
So last night, as we usually do before we pray, we asked if anyone had requests.
"For me to be able to get more money for the book fair," our son said but it sound more like a question.
"For God to help you (looking at me and Daddy) get more money so we can get books from the book fair," our daughter requested.
Daddy and I needed God to come down to save them.
"Well remember the other night we told y'all that we shouldn't always be seeking God's hand?" I told them sternly.
"But we're not. We want HIM to help you and Daddy give it to us," our son said.
"Let us pray," Daddy snapped.
Our daughter volunteered. So we should have known something was up.
Here's a snippet:
Dear God. Thank you for our parents and grandparents.
Thank you for waking us up.
Please help my little brother not have a sassy mouth.
Please help us get money so we can buy books so we can
keep being good readers and get AR points. And help Mommy
and Daddy not be so mad about books. Amen.
And as they kissed us goodnight and marched off to their room, they actually had the nerve to look back at us as if we had done wrong.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph! The nerve.

Gotta Know My Facts

2011-04-03T22:08:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, we had to drive down to the Eastern part of NC for a funeral/Celebration of Life for our former pastor and friend. It was great to see our friends- we just didn't want to see them for that reason.
The night before (Friday) Daddy surprised our little curious seven-year-old son with a book from the hotel lobby, about the Titanic. He has been so fascinated with the story since seeing just a snippet of it a month ago. We've made myriad trips to the library to get books about it.
So on Saturday, the day of the funeral, we are in the youth sanctuary talking with our friends- just catching up- since we last saw them in September. Friends were asking how the kids have adjusting to the move, etc. when our son comes walking through with the Titanic book. About an hour before he walked up while I was talking to someone and immediately started asking,
"Mama...did you know that 2,223 people were on board the Titanic when it sank and do you know how many people died?" Before I could say anything he answered. Not that I knew.
"And do you know what time the Titanic sank?"
My friend was snickering.
Again he answered. "It was 2:20 in the morning Mama!"
I stooped to get closer to him, in an attempt to get him to stop so we could finish our conversation... but-
"And what year did it sink, Mama?"
I tried to just throw out a year to get him to stop.
"1900," I blurted out.
He looked around, then looked at me, disappointingly, and said, "Mama! You gotta know your facts!" Then finally walked away.
So I see him again with the book and held by breath.
This time it was worse.
I began talking about the book before he could.
"He has this growing interest in the Titanic so Daddy got him that book he has been walking around with."
"And you know what... Daddy stole this book from the hotel!"
Everyone laughed except Daddy and I.
"I told you we should have been on the road," Daddy replied.

I PAID FOR THOSE STRINGS DUDE!

2011-03-01T12:14:00.000-08:00

I have been a little under the weather the past few days. Our seven-year-old began complaining about a headache and feeling hot last night, so I assumed that I passed something on to him.
He and his sister love school, so when it was time to wake him and he just moaned... I told Daddy to just leave him home with me.
I realized it was a mistake around 8:30 AM. His feet hit the ground and I heard Donkey Kong Country Returns on the Wii and a series of slurps on a blueberry freeze pop. For the next hour or so I was tapped and asked a thousand questions.
This kid was just fine. He just needed some sleep. He was rejuvenated and I wasn't.
I knew I needed to get some rest so I could go back to work on Wednesday AND so I would not end up on the news!
"Okay. Mommy still doesn't feel well so I need for you to help me out buddy."
He nodded but didn't make eye contact.
"Can you please get me a bottle of water from the kitchen?" I asked gingerly.
"For one dollar," he smiled.
I just covered my head with the blanket.
I did manage to get some rest before I remembered our daughter needed a red shirt for a Dr. Seuss activity at school tomorrow. So I slowly got myself together and yelled for our son to get dressed.
He put on his favorite shirt, which Daddy hates, jeans and red and silver Nike's I'd forgotten about. I was just impressed that the shirt and shoes matched.
"I didn't know you could still wear those," I told him.
"Yep!"
I didn't feel well and had been squinting from sinus pressure, so I wasn't sure if his shoes actually were without the shoe strings.
"Where's the strings?" I asked, while getting a little closer.
"Remember when I tried to make the puppets with those socks and ..."
I cut him off before he reminded me about something I probably got mad about at an earlier time.
"Well since they (shoes) still look pretty good, I will just get some gray strings for them."
We found the strings but I couldn't tell, from the small package, if they were too long. I managed to find an associate. She didn't help much. She told me that all the strings- adult and children's were together.
I was in a hurry, didn't want to come back for $2 strings and was tired of him walking beside me, sliding his feet so they would not come off. Yes, I should have made him wear other shoes until we got the strings but... didn't I say I didn't feel well!!
So I opened the top of the box- I didn't rip or break it- and took a string out to see if it would work.
"Mama... can you do that?" he asked.
"It is okay. I am just tryin' to make sure these aren't too long. They look too long," I assured him and snatched one of his shoes.
It worked so I fixed the other shoe.
He looked around as if we were stealing.
I placed the small box in his face.
"SEE! There is another set in here and we are going to take IT to the register and PAY for it!"
He slowly walked behind me.
EVERYTHING was rung up and we proceeded to leave the store.
I looked around me and didn't see our son.
He was actually standing back in the store with his ears covered.
Initially I didn't realize what he was doing.
"Come on here!" I yelled.
The greeter looked at him. Then at me.
I walked over and grabbed his hand.
As we walked pass the greeter and through the "security or scanner area" he said, "I thought the alarm was gonna go off."
I didn't look back at the greeter.
"I PAID FOR THOSE STRINGS DUDE!"
I'll never do that again. Coulda gotten me locked up for nothing, or searched!

The Valentine's Lesson

2011-02-14T18:45:00.000-08:00

Last night it was revealed to us, just minutes before prayer, that our nine-year-old daughter was short a FEW Valentine cards/lollipops for her classmates. Here's the problem: she had a box of 30 Sponge Bob cards and 30 heart-shaped lollipops. There are 23 students in her class and one teacher. I wasn't the top student in Math throughout my education but... she had enough to go around and she should have have six left.
Well she showed us the box- did I mention she brought this to our attention just before going to bed the night before Valentine's Day? There were 25 cards and six lollipops. Daddy looked like he wanted to touch the cards and candy, produce a miracle and multiply them. Our last name does begin with a J but... the only thing we could do was make a trip to a store.
We weren't about to do that. She had to learn.
I could just picture her with her feet up, laughing at us- I mean a cartoon- suckiing on lollipops... with her brother beside her, biting his.
I snapped out of it when Daddy said, "You know what! You just go in there and fill out your cards and you will have to explain to your friends why you gave them a Sponge Bob card with two holes in it but no lollipop!"
I hadn't thought of that.
So she went in her room and filled them out.
Five minutes later...
"Mommy, Daddy! I need two more cards."
We looked at each other. Then at her.
"Why?" we asked in unison.
"Well I messed up on two of them," she softly replied.
Daddy looked through the cards. Pulled one out of the deck as if he were David Blaine.
"Why would you write your name on a card and from yourself?"
I was done.
So we told her she would have to explain to the two friends who were left, why they didn't get a card with two holes in it nor any candy.

When I picked them up from school this afternoon she skipped to the van with a wide smile on her face.
She slid the door closed, buckled her belt and began cheerfully revealing how much fun she and her classmates had.
"Mommy, guess what?"
I didn't answer. It didn't matter.
"My friends loved my Valentine cards! They liked them because they were Sponge Bob!" Then she went on and on talking with her brother the entire way home, about their day.

TOUGH

2011-02-13T20:24:00.000-08:00

Parenting can be so difficult at times. We want to teach them to do the right things in myriad situations especially when we are not around. We are supposed to prepare them to live and be productive citizens in this crazy world one day. Sometimes the lessons I try to teach just miss or get interpreted incorrectly.
Our little seven-year-old has gone through some funny stages: at three we caught him debating with his young daycare teacher... regularly. Just picture a vertically-challenged, curly-haired, almond-shaped, tight-eyed boy sitting at a table- feet dangling- eating mac-n-cheese and in between bites telling his 21-year-old teacher, "Call my Mama! Just see what's gone happen!" (chewing) "Don't call my Daddy 'cause he at work." I think he was just being a little James Dean because he was used to being at home with Mommy. Him- I mean he wasn't ready for Mommy to go back to work. Then when he reached kindergarten, he was definitely a lot more reserved and definitely eliminated the defiance at daycare.
In first grade teachers- everyone- thought he walked on water. Now that we have moved and he is in second grade he has so timid and easily scared by many things, not just Chick-fil-A, Disney characters and Chuck-E-Cheese.
So Daddy and I are always talking to him about standing up for himself. Teaching kids to stand up for themselves can be tricky because while we are cognizant of bullying we don't want to teach fighting. Unfortunately a child could be targeted, even in the best elementary schools, if he or she doesn't stand up to others. Just the other day he was asking us if we thought he was tough.
It took us some time to teach him to ride a bike because he was so scared to fall. Understandable I guess. So we gingerly helped him to ride by basically WALKING beside him as he rode around our grassy yard with his helmet on. Sharp contrast to how I learned. My mom removed the training wheels, put me on my bike at the top of a small hill in our neighborhood and said, "You better ride this bike or you gone bust your head in front of all yo' friends out here!" Just before pushing me off. No holding the bike up while I rode around. Didn't have a helmet either. But I learned how to ride my bike with Aces and Spades clothes-pinned to the spokes of my tires, flapping in the breeze.
Tuesday when I picked the kids up from school, our son immediately got my blood pressure up. "Mama... I got into a fight today on the playground!" he told me with slight excitement.
"WHAT?" I panicked.
"Well we were playing Vampires and Werewolves and this girl named ******* kept putting her hands on me so I pushed her."
I felt like I had vertigo... "You got into a fight with a girl?"
I'm driving out of the school parking lot- looking at the road and at him sitting in the seat behind the front passenger seat- feet still dangling.
"Well she wouldn't stop touching me."
Shaking my head. Trying to make sense of it.
"Then me and ****** picked up a rock and acted like were gonna hit her."
I swerved.
"What!!!!" Couldn't believe it. "What did I tell you about being a follower?" I yelled.
"No Mama... I picked up a rock first!"
I was livid.
I cannot believe your teacher didn't call me.
"We had a substitution. I think she was 92-years-old and she don't like tattle-tales," he somberly said.
Then he leaned over toward his sister and disappointingly said, "I thought Mama and Daddy would be proud that I got into a fight."

It's the Thought That Counts... I Think

2011-01-20T21:08:00.000-08:00

Well... what did Daddy get for his birthday from the kids? Drum roll please...
I have to set this up for you now, you know that.
So, I picked the kids up from school today and we are five minutes from the house when our son says, "Mama! Did Daddy remember to tell you to bring my money and Walmart card?" He won the Walmart card by selling popcorn for his Cub Scout pack. That $20 card has been burning his hand.
"Um, no he did not and I am almost home now."
"Now I can't get Daddy a birthday present," he sighed.
I asked how much he planned to spend on a gift.
"Well, you know I can't spend a lot because I gotta get me something," he confessed.
So I continued home.
We were getting out of the van when they stumbled upon something they could give Daddy. It had been in the back pocket of the driver's seat for about a week. It WASN'T used! That was a good start.
It was a Shrek watch our daughter got from her Happy Meal box.
They were so excited!
They rushed in the house to wrap it. There wasn't any masking tape in the house... Thank God! So they put it in a regular envelope and over-licked it before sealing.
"How much time do we have before Daddy gets home from work?" our daughter panicked.
I checked the huge clock on the wall just behind her. "Probably about ten minutes," I told her.
She snatched a piece of paper from the printer, a black, leaky pen and made him a Birthday card before he came home.
Her brother wouldn't be outdone when he saw Daddy hugging her once he opened the envelope and read his card.
"Here you go Daddy," he said in a slow voice with his head down.
"What's this?" Daddy smiled as our son handed him a twenty dollar bill.
The flood gates were about to open.
I couldn't help it... I cracked up. He didn't want to give him the money- we all knew that.
"Oh that's okay. Thanks for thinking about me but you can keep it," Daddy smiled.
Our son snatched that money back so quick and flopped on the couch. I didn't see him do it, but I know he wanted to wipe that small brow.
They presented it to him as soon as he came through the door.

Giving

2011-01-19T17:42:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is Daddy's 40th birthday! I guess our kids are really growing up and using those critical thinking skills parents and educators often push, because they actually asked Daddy what he likes! Does this mean that we no longer have to don our Oscar hats when we open their gifts?
Two years ago they used a whole role of masking tape to wrap gifts for us and the grandparents. I received an old, half-naked, Barbie knock-off. "Oh wow! Thanks babies!" I smiled, sucking my finger- wounded from breaking through the layers of tape. Dude, I mean Daddy, was blessed with one of the dinosaurs our son received the prior year. We knew what it was before he tore the paper. I'm assuming wrapping the tail was a little difficult for them. It was probably because the one box they had was used to envelope Grandma's gift. The adults tried out best to refrain from laughing when she tore off her paper. She received three red, plastic apples missing from our kitchen, and they were strategically placed in a General Tso's chicken box, we purchased from Walmart at some point, for dinner.
So I was moved when they asked what kinds of things Daddy likes... a day before his birthday. And they have money- that's the kicker!
"Daddy I know you like The First 48 show so I think I'm gonna get you the DVDs!"
I had to inform him that he would have to order the DVDs and there was no way he could get them by tomorrow.
"Yes we can when we go to WalmarK after school tomorrow," he informed me.
"I didn't know we were going to Walmart tomorrow after school," I replied.
A few days ago he was asking to go so he could get some cartoon on DVD.
"Then I can get Daddy's gift when I get that DVD I told you about."
He had it all worked out.
"How much money do you have?"
He ran to get his money from one of his myriad Captain Underpants' book.
"I've got thirty dollars Mama."
So I told him to think of something else to get him since we didn't have much time and he actually came up with another good suggestion.
"Well I could get him a Yankees hat."
We all like the Yankees and Miami Hurricanes so that was a good idea.
"That is a good idea and there is a store in the mall that has a really nice one," I told him.
"How much does it cost Mama?"
Uh oh.
"It's only $19.99!" I smiled.
Long pause. Then the nostrils flared as he sipped his Capri Sun.
"Well I can't get him that. I won't have enough to get MY DVD and I can't do that. That's not right."
So Daddy may need to rehearse tonight because there is not telling what he may find wrapped up tomorrow and what it may be in. I haven't seen our son's Star Wars life saber in a few months.

I CAN WIN ONE... By Any Means Necessary!

2011-01-15T21:04:00.000-08:00

Two years ago when our son was entering kindergarten, we were told that he has a condition called "amblyopia". It is an eye problem that causes loss of or poor vision in one or both eyes. It can affect both eyes but usually one. It is the common cause of vision problems in children. All babies are born with poor vision but it gets better as they develop. What happened with our son is that his brain never corrected the problem in his left eye so his right eye just became stronger and ultimately how he was viewing the world. I'm not an opthamologist... but I did sleep in a Holiday Inn once. We never noticed any indicators that he had a visual problem prior to kindergarten. He never sat close to the television, never squinted nor did his eye cross. We had no idea until he had a Health Assessment completed for kindergarten. We were referred to a local specialist, then had to drive to a specialist at Duke to discuss treatments.
The staff had a difficult time trying to get drops in his eyes to check him. That was a task to say the least. Didn't know he could be so strong. Mention eye drops, clowns and Chick-fil-a cow and he could go Incredible Hulk on ya- busting out of a Gymboree shirt- minus the green stuff.
Treatment for him has been to patch his stronger eye in order to make the brain tell his weaker eye to work. And, thankfully, his vision has improved. The first time I patched, I put the patch over the lens of his glasses. I snapped a picture of my cute little, curly-haired, son with his Toy Story eye patch... over the glasses. I immediately sent the picture to Daddy! His reply: "Maybe it me but thnk it may b betr if u put ptch ovr i!"
Not sure what I was thinking.
He doesn't love wearing the patch and glasses because he has to sit up close to see things better. It's like switching from bottles to breast feeding- you have to work harder to get results once you are used to the easy way.
Well I just reminded Daddy that we had gotten a little lazy about making him patch and you know he is not going to remind us.
Yesterday we were all playing the WI games. Daddy and the kids play it a lot more than I do. They each like to play against me because... as I said I don't play often so I'm not good.
Daddy and his sister were whipping up on him so he said, "I wanna play Mama!"
They all snickered.
I put the strap on my wrist and stood up ready to play.
He showed no mercy on the first two games. His confidence was up! He began bragging a bit.
He was smiling- showing all the tiny teeth on the sides (no teeth in front right now)
I quickly interrupted- "Go get a patch and your glasses! You haven't been patching for a while!"
"Oh that's foul!" Daddy said. "Mama playin' dirty!" he added as he sat back in his chair.
Can't win them all but I can win one. ;o)

A Threat to Santa

2010-12-24T21:19:00.000-08:00

Hi! My name is Melissa and SOMETIMES I may be a dysfunctional parent. Is there a group or Two-Step Program for people like me? Oh and Dude. We are one flesh!
We forget to put money under the kids' pillows when they lose teeth. We spell words in front of the kids only to have the kids figure the word out before we do.
And... last year I forgot to hide the toys from our seven-year-old Kojak, before Christmas. This is why we got a note from his teacher a few weeks ago asking us to talk with him because he went to school telling his peers that Santa didn't exist and neither did his horses.
We could not figure out why he did that. I just prayed that none of the kids went home crying to their parents about Santa. So we doned our Huxtable hats and had a
chat with him. We didn't get far when he blurted out, "Mama! I saw Rex in your closet on Christmas Eve! Right beside the snowman wrapping paper!"
Dude shook his head.
So we have had these back-and-forth conversations with him recently. We didn't want him going Malcolm X on any other kids and try, by any means necessary, to convince them that Santa was not real.
We weren't quite sure how he was feeling about Santa in the last few days. Until we found a letter tonight:

Going Too Far!

2010-12-18T19:24:00.000-08:00

Our son is so protective and territorial when it comes to me... his favorite Mommy! Of course his only one but "favorite" has a great ring to it. (Picture me with a smile, sunglasses and feet up as I reflect on this) Back to the blog.
He would do anything for me. Except... protect me from the Chick-fil-A cow. If you've followed the blogs you know the history of that character and Chuck-E-Cheese. Oh, and Mickey Mouse, and the vertically-challenged man from our church who dressed up like a cell phone during Fall Fest, complete with ashy knees. Our son finished his cotton candy under one of the tables that year. Basically he is fearful of anyone dressed in a costume. I try to convince him that "God doesn't give him the spirit of fear" but his consistent response is, "Well Mommy somebody gave it to me bad!"
Not only does he try to be protective but he is territorial.
We were relaxed, watching a movie when he said, "Daddy. I knew Mommy before you."
I grinned a bit but just passed it off. I mean Dude and I know better. No need to reply right?
Well...
Dude replied.
"Nope. I knew her first buddy."
Our son sat up. Looked at Dude then at me.
I closed my eyes and held my breath in anticipation for what the little seven-year-old was about to say.
"No. I knew her first Daddy," pointing at my stomach, "I was in that tummy!"
Dude peered at me. "Will you tell him?"
I pressed my lips together.
"First I was in her tummy then I grew (talking with his hands) and grew until I was ready to come outta there and see Mommy!"
He smiled and sat back as if he had won the round.
Dude sat up and came back with, "I helped get you here!"
He was confused. "Uh, Mommy how did Daddy help me get here?"
Again... I closed my eyes.

Creativity Gone a Little Far

2010-11-11T20:28:00.000-08:00

Well the kids finished their Tae Kwon Do trial this week! They were so excited and so were we. They received their white outfits the first day and completed two days of thirty minute one-on-ones with an instructor. The nine-year-old did well and really got into it. Her seven-year-old brother... well... the first private instruction didn't go so well. He didn't get into it as much as his sister. I just know, if we had put that Chick-fil-A cow in that room, he would have been highly motivated to do the moves. Hopefully he will grow out of that fear in the next few years. Maybe he will become so confident with Tae Kwon Do that the next time we go into a Chick-fil-A he will get his Bruce little Lee on and do a flying kick over those waffle fries and nuggets and make the cow flee instead of the other way around for a first.
The second private instruction went a bit better for our Bruce little Lee!

They were super excited because they broke a board!!! You know they were pumped! And they let them keep the boards of course. We did what most new members probably do- took pictures of them holding their boards!

Well I guess Dude and I valued that experience a little more than they did. Earlier this evening they were working so hard on some little project in the living room. I know I heard masking tape. We really didn't pay much attention to what they were doing. We were elated that they were working together without any fuss. I guess I should have questioned that.

Just before dinner, I heard Dude: "What! Why did you...?" A loss for words? I had to see what was going on.
I walked in to see that our two little creative beings had made a cash register out of masking tape, markers and... the boards they broke. The ones we cherished and valued so much.
A cash register? Check out the photo. Only the Jacksons! We need a sitcom.

The Best Time for Bilingual Education

2010-11-07T12:53:00.000-08:00

Early Childhood Learning- The Best Time for Bilingual Education
The future is a mystery, no one can say what it will hold – but if current trends continue, your child will grow up to enter a workforce in which the competition for decent-paying jobs will be nothing short of cut-throat. Despite the calls for greater co-operation and "interdependence," human nature being what it is, it's a good bet that the economy of the the future will operate according to the Law of the Jungle. It goes without saying that a good education is one of the best ways to prepare that child for survival in that economic jungle of the future.

The Bilingual Future

One of the future trends that has become certain is the existence of a diverse, global society and this rings true especially in the United States. Almost from the beginning, the U.S. has been a land of immigrants, and while the "melting pot" has been an interesting theory, it has not happened in practice. On the contrary, most major U.S. population centers have become more of an ethnic and linguistic checkerboard; Spanish, Russian, Vietnamese and Chinese speakers represent some of the fastest-growing segments of the immigrant U.S. population.

As China continues to rise, English may very well lose its preeminence as the international language of business; at best, it will have to share that top status with Mandarin in decades to come.

Getting Ready

Traditional wisdom has been to start teaching a second language in middle school, or even high school. Yet numerous research studies clearly demonstrate that the optimal period in a child's life for multilingual education is during the preschool years – at exactly the same time they are learning their first language. Yes, it is possible to learn a second and third language later in life, but it is more difficult, because that neurological "window of opportunity" – when the brain is most malleable – has passed.

According to Dr. Fred Genessee, Professor of Psychology at McGill University in Montreal, it's as easy for young children to learn two or three languages as it is for them to learn one. He's not alone; educators throughout the world (in countries that often have two or even three official languages) have understood this for decades.

The way a child learns a second language is by actually speaking it in a total immersion environment. You may recall an episode of the animated series The Simpsons in which young Bart gets trapped on a farm in France – and by the end of the episode, finds he's actually speaking the language. While this was a fictional scenario, the phenomenon is real; anyone who has taken young children abroad to stay with relatives in a foreign country for any length of time has observed this happening.

Enrollment in a preschool or day care program that offers immersion in other languages is the best way to get your child started. This investment will make him/her much more competitive in the job market later on.

Co-written by Emily Patterson and Kathleen Thomas

Emily and Kathleen are Communications Coordinators for http://www.primroseschools.com/OurSchools/Georgia/Atlanta/>Atlanta day care
facility, a member of the AdvancED® accredited family of Primrose Schools (located in 16 states throughout the U.S.) and part of the network of http://www.primroseschools.com/>day care preschools delivering progressive, early childhood, Balanced Learning® curriculum.

Apples Falling From Trees

2010-10-30T20:50:00.000-07:00

It's funny how your kids do things that you did when you were little. We tell our two all the time, "You can't be sneaky. We either did it before or thought about it." And usually we were just a little bit better than them at pulling it off.
Tonight our son was busted. We took for granted that he gets in there and does what he is supposed to do... take a shower! I mean it was easy to believe: he always got his towel, soap always there, we saw him get in and close the door, and the hook- he was always singing! Then he would get out, dry off, put his pajamas on and use the little squeegee to clean it out. And there is always steam.
Well he came in our room just after getting out of the shower tonight with the towel wrapped around him- pajamas in hand- to ask if he could stay up a little later.
"Hey! Your skin is unbelievably dry if you just got out the shower," Dude said.
No response.
"Did you take a shower?" Dude asked him.
He nodded.
"It just don't seem like your body has gotten wet," Dude said while looking him over.
I began visualizing myself decades ago. Running the water, then waiting for the bathroom mirrors to get foggy from the steam so I could draw little stick people. Or I would stand in front of the mirror and rehearse what I was going to say to the boy who sat behind me on the bus and pulled my hair. He would then pretend to be asleep. Oh yes, I told him off... in the bathroom mirror. I don't know why I did that.
But now, here was our little seven-year-old busted for the same thing.
He looked over at me as if he wanted me to save him. My look to him: You're on your own buddy.
"Get in that shower and put some soap on your body and wash!" Dude told him.
"You mean I gotta use soap?" our son cried.
I guided him back to the bathroom quickly before Dude stood up.

Strong Enough For A Man But Made For A Woman

2010-10-27T14:02:00.000-07:00

One day the naivete will wear off. I just know it will. BUT WHEN????
Our little seven-year-old believes whatever his nine-year-old, cut-from-a-different-cloth, sister tells him.
She could tell him money grows on trees and he would be waiting for some bills to bud.
Well... the other night we were awakened by a smell. Sometimes, something as simple as a smell can make you feel a little nostalgic. I sat up in the bed and thought about my grandmother who has been deceased for more than twenty-five years. She wore an old, strong deodorant called "Tussy". That is what I smelled.
Dude finally woke up too.
We turned the light on. Isn't it funny that we often say that we cut the light on. Okay, okay- back to the story.
There was our son, in the wee hours of the morning... with the smell all over him.
"What in the world?" I asked, while covering my nose.
"We smelled something and she (referring to his sister) said it was me. She said I smelled," he began to tell us.
"But you just took a shower!" Dude told him.
"Well she said she could make me smell good so she put that stuff she use to make her arms smell good, on me," he continued.
Dude looked at me. I closed my eyes.
He actually allowed his sister, who is a minor too, rub Secret deodorant all over him in the still of the night. I mean it was in his hair, on his neck and partially on his pajamas.
I guess their slogan is true: "Secret...strong enough for a (little) man but made for a (little) woman."

Gotta Find That Toof!

2010-09-22T18:54:00.000-07:00

Our little seven-year-old has been slow about losing those teeth of his. I've been longing to see the two front ones come out so I can take pictures and pull them out when he turns thirty and starts dating! (Yes I said 30!)
Well he finally lost one at the top, in front.
Later that night when it was time for bed he couldn't find it.
"It's time for bed now!" I yelled.
I heard him running."But I gotta find my toof!" he panicked.
After about five minutes I yelled again, "Let's go!"
My dad was in the living room.
"Don't worry 'bout it. You can find it tomorrow buddy," he tried to assure him.
He didn't accept it.
"Oh no! I gotta put it under my pillow tonight 'cause my toof came out tonight!"
I had an idea- "I know the tooth fairy and I will tell her to give you another day."
He stopped and thought about it.
"Well my toof fairy is not a she but a he, Mama."
With that tooth out now, his "she" sounded like "he".
"Okay. You gotta get in the bed now," I told him.
He was determined to get a tooth under that pillow, so he walked up to my dad and whispered, "Papa. Can I get one of yo teefs out yo cabinet in yo bathroom and put it under my pillow?"
While my dad choked, he ran and asked me, "How much does the toof fairy give for the bigger teef?"

Kids Need to Mind Their Business

2010-06-28T11:37:00.000-07:00

On our way to my favorite place, "Wally World" aka Wal-mart, (sure you can sense the sarcasm) I had to make a quick stop at the ATM. Riding with my two, favorite, nosey minors- the kids.
Before pulling away from the ATM my son asked, "Mama. So you can just go up to that machine and tell it to give you all the money you want?"
I smiled, "Naw. That's not how it works. You have to have money in the bank to get money out."
I glanced to see him process that, as I put the cash in my wallet.
As we drove through the parking lot of Wally World, we saw some people at a table in front of each entrance. My daughter read their signs: Help Feed Hungry Children.
"Oh no," I sighed.
"What Mama?" she asked.
I really didn't mean for them to hear me. I'd contributed before to that same group. I was disappointed that they were in front of each entrance. I jokingly said, "I wonder what Wal-mart would do if we showed up at the back entrance where the trucks come in?"
"Why do we want to go in the back?" my son asked.
"Never mind!" I told him as I pulled into a space. "Thank you Lord for this space up front!" I said.
I know it is healthier to walk but it was hot!
As we walked up to one of the entrances, I planned what I was going to say when the people at the table asked for a contribution. I was hoping some other people would be walking up at the same time so I could slip by.
No luck.
Before we could step in the area to make the doors open automatically, they made eye contact and asked, "Ma'am would you like to help feed hungry children today?"
The kids stopped and looked at me. I felt pressured. But I had it planned.
"Well I only have my credit card. I don't have any cash."
As I started on in, my young son said, "Mama! What about that money you just got from that machine from your bank count?"
Then his sister, co-signed, "That's right Mama. You got those dollars you put in your wallet just now."
I felt myself sweating as if I stole something. I envisioned myself beating them down!
I forced a smile and ignored what they said. "Let's go!"
As we finally walked in, I rolled my eyes at them and tried to grab a cart. They were stuck. As I began fighting with the carts, the kids just stood there.
"Pull from the other end!" I yelled.
Unfortunately they easily pulled and the cart just came out. As we strolled through the produce, my daughter casually and almost quietly asked, "Do you think the carts woulda been easier for you if you gave those people some money?"
Somehow the cart I was pushing hit the back of her heels. Oops!

Only Our Kids!

2010-05-24T18:44:00.000-07:00

I'm in the middle of teaching when my phone rings. I checked the time.
"Who in the world would be calling me this time of day?" I thought.
Usually I would let it go to voice mail but I saw the number on the ID... it was the kids' school.
"Mrs. Jackson!" I answered.
They were calling to let me know that our little six-year-old had magic markers out on the bus and colored all over his hands on the way to school.
I waited for the rest.
"Um...did he color on the seats or anything?" I asked.
He hadn't.
"Well okay. I will take the markers and make sure he doesn't bring them to school anymore," I assured.
"Well it's not a big deal. Just wanted to let you know what's going on."
I was about to hang up when the school rep added, "Well the bus driver didn't even know about it until someone went up to her and told her when she got off the bus."
Of course, I thought, someone ratted him out for some markers that belonged to him.
Then he told me who the culprit was: HIS OWN SISTER!
I mean I couldn't figure that one out. Couldn't wait to talk to them when I got home.
"What were you thinking to squeal on your own baby brother?" I asked.
"You know what... don't even say anything!" I added.
I paced a little then threw my hands up and asked again. "What were you thinking?"
Playing with the end of her shirt she said, "Well the bus driver made a rule the other day and said no crayons and markers on the bus."
"But, baby... it was your brother. You shoulda just told him to put them back in his backpack. Then you coulda told me when you got home."
The little three-footer chimed in, "I don't know why you did that. The bus driver didn't even see them."
She gave him the "stingy caterpillar" eyebrows. "Mama don't need no co-signer!"
This one was a little tough because I didn't want her to think I was telling her to go against rules.
"But I could see if the driver asked you if he had markers- or if he had used them to draw on the seat. But you just dropped dime on him like you weren't related."
Shouldn't have said that.
"Mama. What you say?" she asked.
She was about to veer too far from the point. Had to reel her back in.
"Look. You are supposed to look out for your little brother. Not take him down."
And over some markers?

Becoming What We Speak

2010-05-24T18:29:00.000-07:00

So we're in Walmart recently to grab a few things as our weekly usual. "Can we go look at the cakes?" our daughter asked as she and her brother began walking backwards to the bakery. I confirmed and made way to the produce nearby, when someone got my attention. It was a parent from the kids' school. Her oldest daughter was in the same class as our daughter a year ago.
"Haven't seen you in a long time," she commented.
"I know. Long time no see," I laughed, as I glanced over at my kids.
"Say. I didn't know you were part Mexican," she said.
"Come again," I replied- giving my version of Arnold's, "Whatchu talkin' 'bout Willis?" look.
She looked over at our daughter who now had her little brother in the headlock, forcing him to look at the cakes.
I snapped my fingers to get her attention, then gave her the rising eyebrows.
"Your daughter told me that you all were part Mexican and that's how you speak Spanish so well."
I shook my head.
"No. I learned to speak Spanish a few years back- not exactly fluent either," I responded.
I guess now that we have learned a few words in Mandarin Chinese, thanks to a little cartoon she watches, we will be part Chinese.
She has to know better.

Consequences For Who?

2010-04-21T17:02:00.000-07:00

As I begin typing this post, I began thinking about Jackie Gleeson's character, Ralph, on the old show, The Honeymooners. Sometimes I want to say those infamous words Ralph used on the show, "One of these days, one of these days... POW! Right in the kisser!"
You know I try to mix the consequences up when it comes to things our children do. I mainly try this for our sweet, creative, cut-from-a-different-cloth, precocious little, eight-year-old, daughter. To be honest, our son, seems fairly easy to raise. He seems to...GET IT!
Well, I can't remember what it was she did, but just trust me, she did something. Anywho, I decided to make her go to bed early. I don't think the sun had quite set and it was a Friday night. This is her favorite night because she gets to, of course, stay up late since the next day is not a school day.
Of course I lectured her, while she got into her pajamas and brushed her teeth.
Well the next day she was up bright and early. And I heard her upstairs waking her brother up. I didn't think that plan out did I? This meant I could not sleep in late.
To add to my plight, she was humming, every so sweetly around the house. It almost sound like she was humming the song, Singing in the Rain. Just to push my buttons eh?
Then she came floating in our room with a smile on her face and planted a big, wet, kiss on my cheek.
"Thank you Mama!" she said.
"For what?" I grimaced.
"For making me go to bed early last night. I feel refreshed!"
Then she pinched my cheek.
"One of these days, one of these days..." I thought.

Kids...They Know More Than We Think

2010-03-25T16:58:00.000-07:00

I guess I can understand why our kids may think we are dysfunctional parents. We used to try to talk in front of them by spelling words. "Did you get the t-i-c-k-e-t for our excursion to D-i-s-n-e-y?" I would ask Daddy. He would take too long to figure it out. I would get frustrated. Then our daughter, who was probably five or six at the time said, "Daddy. Did you get the tickets for our trip, to Disney World?" Then added, "Mama. You have to add an S to ticket because we need more than one."
And then there's the time (you can read it in an earlier blog) I wanted to just "keep it real" and tell our daughter that she had a vagina but her dad wanted to, and still does, refer to it as a pocketbook. I mean come on!
Well, we were eating out recently and our son asked how could people have children who aren't really theirs. I swallowed my drink, sat it down on the table and while looking at Daddy to get backup, I answered, "Well some people might have children before they get married. Then when they do they bring their children with them after they get married and start living together."
Daddy shook his head and muttered, "You shouldn't have opened that box." Our son sat there with a curious look. My answer had not satisfied his little curiosity. Before I could add on, his sister slurped her drink and said, It's like our uncle. He has a son who lives with him and he is his step-son. They are called step-children or step-parents." Then she went back to eating. Daddy and I just looked at each other.
But we weren't off the hook.
"But Uncle Don has another son who don't live with him. How did he do that?"
Daddy looked at me. "See Uncle Don used to be married to his son's mom a long time ago (lied). Then he got married to someone else." Our little one was now more confused than ever. Our little, well-educated daughter threw her hands up and said, with much volume, "They got a divorce! D-i-v-o-r-c-e!"
"Mama," our son started again. Before he could say anything else, I said, "Hey! Ask your sister."
They know more than we think.

Six-Year-Olds

2010-03-02T10:04:00.000-08:00

Our six-year-old son wanted so badly to help Dude dig a pit for his high school track and field students yesterday. "No buddy. You have on brand new shoes," he told him. "But I tell you what- we will remember to bring an old pair of shoes tomorrow and you can help."
Well our "attentive" son managed to get in that pit anyway while Dude wasn't looking. After Dude reprimanded him- fortunately, more like a Huxtable dad than Joe Jackson- he told him that after homework, he wanted him to write about Why He Should Listen to His Parents.
So after he finished writing his sentences for homework I reminded him of his writing prompt.
"Mama? You gone make me do that fo' real?"
"Boy get back to that table and write!"
He stayed at the table for quite a while too.
Well later last night when Dude came in, he asked him about it. He presented his paper. I could tell from Dude's face that it wasn't good.
"So I can eat?" Dude responded. "No. Just stand there and tell me why you should listen to your parents?" he added.
Our son stood there with his head down, playing with his shirt and finally answered, "So you won't go to hell."
I choked on the wintergreen candy in my mouth.

The Turtle Whisperer Strikes Again

2010-02-07T19:48:00.000-08:00

If you have kept up with my posts you already know about our kids' pets: the ever popular Michelle and Michael. For those new readers, Michael for the King of Pop and Michelle for our first lady.
Well the turtles stopped eating the new food we bought them, as if they are paying for it, so Daddy decided to get them some goldfish. I really was afraid it would traumatize the kids.
A few months ago we went to a pet store to get new food for them. I walked in and the sales person quickly asked what I needed. When I told him turtle food, he threw up his hands, smiled and said, "It's everywhere!" referring to all of the fish in myriad tanks throughout the store.
"Mama what's he talkin' about?" our son asked. I hesitated to tell him. "Turtles eat fish," I whispered.
"But you're not gonna give these little fish to our turtles to let 'em kill 'em are you?" our daughter asked.
So they knew what was about to happen when Daddy put the bag of four small goldfish in the tank. They gathered to the front of the tank and I immediately heard some sniffling.
"Hey! You two saw Lion King right? It's the circle of life," I told them.
It didn't help.
Our daughter was whispering something to the turtles. I couldn't make it out.
When Daddy finally let the fish out into the water, Michael and Michelle took off and swam to their cave. I couldn't believe it.
The kids jumped for joy! Then turned to us and stuck their tongues out, while they danced around.
The turtles slowly came out after about twenty minutes and climbed up on their floating rock. The nerves.
For the next few days the kids got up and checked the tank. "One, two, three... four little fish!" they cheered.
So now we have four new pets to feed.
Our daughter, the turtle whisperer strikes again!

Dude's Birthday

2010-01-24T12:52:00.000-08:00

We celebrated Dude's birthday a few days ago! The kids and our babysitter made a cute little banner that they hung on the garage door. I almost destroyed it when I pulled up and routinely pressed the button above my visor in the car. I caught it in time to stop it and make it go back down.
I rushed in with the food and cake.
"What is this trash doing on the table?" I asked, eyeing some Christmas wrapping paper.
I reached for it when our son answered, "No Mama! That's Daddy's gift!"
How was I to know? I saw Christmas paper and it looked liked it had been balled up. I touched it and realized there was something in it. Instead of clear, scotch tape it was tapped up with masking tape, which barely stuck. I guess they played with it or something.
I looked at our sitter. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
"Oh, well I'm sorry 'bout that. I wasn't looking at it good," I assured him.
His sister was proud of her gift! "I made Daddy a card from his favorite little princess!"
"You're not a princess. Daddy just says that!" her compassionate little brother threw in.
"Well he will love everyone's gifts!" I said, trying to extinguish the little spat that was about to start.
"Everybody didn't get Daddy a birthday present," our son said, while looking at our sitter.
I smiled. "You don't always have to get someone something tangible, and she (referring to our teenaged sitter) didn't know."
"A tangerine mama?" our daughter asked. Before I could explain tangible our son said,
"You coulda got Daddy some of those chop sticks that y'all have!" he yelled.
I couldn't control my blinking. There have been many times when he and his sister have said things and I'd wished I could have stopped the words from coming out. This was one of those times.
Their babysitter is Asian-American.
Luckily we were able to laugh WITH her.
I pinched him on the sneak.
"Ouch! What was that for?"
I kept smiling.
So a few minutes later Dude came home. We were so busy talking that I didn't notice his lights coming into the driveway so he was in the house when we said, "Surprise!"
He read his card and then I passed him the mysterious gift. What could a six-year-old have given him with no job?
It didn't take much to open it.
I was drinking juice when it was revealed and almost sprayed our daughter.
"Wow! Thank you buddy. We can share this!" Daddy smiled and glared over at me.
It was his (our son's) toy. A Star Wars light saber we got him for Christmas about two years ago. I thought I'd given it to Goodwill. But there it was... scratched up and not working.

We Surrender!

2010-01-19T16:07:00.000-08:00

Okay. Dude and I have about had it with trying to do the "right" thing and continue to tell our two kids to turn the other cheek and ignore other kids when they bother them. Besides they only have two. And we have continuously told them to tell an adult if another kid hits them. And someone needs to tell them not to tell me. It doesn't take much.
Now they will let other kids bother them but it doesn't take but a second for the two of them to be at it with each other. I guess that is how it is with some siblings.
Not sure how we got on the subject- maybe we were talking about aliens- and our eight-year-old, started talking about how a girl in her class called her a name. Now usually I calmly tell her to ignore that but hey, this girl's name has come up myriad times before for the same problem, so I was fed up.
"The next time she calls you a name, you call her the same name, or you firmly tell her not to call you that again!"
She didn't say anything.
"She keeps calling you names because you don't do anything," I told her.
It was quiet for about two minutes then she spoke.
"Next time she says something to me (pushing back her sleeves) I'm gonna say this to her (looking at her wrist) What time is it? (tapping her foot) Oh it's time for #*#*# to start being a little meanie isn't it?" And she was serious.
Dude and I looked at each other. We surrendered.
"Uh, honey don't even worry about it," I told her. "Don't even worry about it."

Ghosts

2010-01-08T07:51:00.000-08:00

It's been sometime ago now, but our daughter asked me if I believed in ghosts. I'll bet it was probably near Halloween. More than likely I gave her a quick and firm "NO!" so she and our son would not be afraid.
Well it has come back on me.
While in her closet, quietly looking for something for her to wear the next day, I hear her leading their nightly prayers.
"Please bless all the homeless people, grandma, papa, our friends, Daddy and please forgive Mama for not believing in you-"
I pushed the shirt shirt back I was eyeing and interrupted.
"Ummm, wait a minute! Excuse me?"
"Mama! You not posed to break in when people are praying!" our son said.
I love prayers but I had to get to the bottom of this. Why did she think I didn't believe in God?
"What are you talking about?" I asked her.
She got up from her knees and hopped up onto her bed. Her brother followed.
"Well... I asked you if you believe in ghosts and you said you didn't believe in them."
I looked around for a minute and thought about the conversation. The only thing I could come up with was a conversation near Halloween.
"Okay..."I responded.
"Well if you don't believe in ghosts then you don't believe in God because there is a Holy Ghost," she said, while making air or finger quotes.
"What are you putting quotes around?" I asked.
I know that wasn't a big deal but I had to say something- she was treating me like an atheist or something!
"No. I do definitely believe in God (he keeps me from hurting them at times) and the Holy Ghost."
I had to explain to her why I said I didn't believe in ghosts initially and which ghosts I was referring to.
When I finished, they didn't say anything. They just got back on their knees to finish.
I stood just outside her bedroom door.
"Goodnight LADY!" she shouted, with her brother laughing.
"And you get to your room when you finish praying," I pointed to our son.
I went on downstairs feeling like I was going to be talked about. By the two smallest people in the house. I just hoped she wouldn't put my name on a prayer card at church saying that I didn't believe in God. I know how our two little ones are.

Bathroom Time

2010-01-02T17:12:00.001-08:00

I just knew the New Year would start out right! Well that was my intention. I worked out yesterday and ate right. Ended the day with a nice warm, bubbly bath. Had my inspirational music going, candles lit, nice bottle of water- I poured it in a fancy glass for the mood- and a nice book to read near the tub.
No kids, no "Dude" (hubby for new readers) nearby.
I closed the door, eased slowly into that steamy water and sat for a few minutes to take it all in. I didn't have Calgon bath products but whatever it was on sale last week, it took me away- BRIEFLY.
I was sitting there still- minding my business when someone came busting in! There wasn't a knock. No, "Mommy are you busy?" Someone just barged in! I could hear the needle on the record scratch.
"Mama. She scratched me on my arm!" our sweet, little, considerate, six-year-old son shouted.
I counted to five and blinked my eyes a few times before responding. This was a new year so that meant controlling my emotions and reactions as well. Dude and I have to be leaders in our domain.
I sipped my water and calmly asked, "Did you do something to her first?"
"Mama what is that you drinkin'? Is that alcohol?"
I went back to my question- "Did you do something to her first?"
"Well she wouldn't let me watch Sponge Bob," he finally answered and still looking at my champagne glass.
"So you touched her first didn't you?" I asked.
"Mama. You said drinking alcohol is bad for you."
I could feel my attitude changing slowly but surely.
"I said that too much alcohol is bad for you but a glass of wine occasionally is not bad and people may drink a glass of wine on special occasions," I told him.
He was all in my business now. "But this is not wine or any other alcohol- it is pure water."
"What's pure?" he asked.
Attitude going backwards to 2009 already.
"Look! You and your sister need to keep your hands to yourselves and just stay away from each other for a little while!" I told him.
He finally left.
I sunk back down into my bubbles and took a deep breath.
Not five minutes later he came running back in and plopped right on the toilet.
"Wait! You have a bathroom upstairs!" I yelled.
"But s-sh-she is nusing it," he strained.
I quickly realized he was sitting down. If a boy is sitting down that means one thing-
I almost used profanity I was so mad.
I sat up quickly- splashing water and yelling! "No! Don't do that in here!"
"Mama this is a bathroom."
I threw water at him.
"CUT THE FAN ON!"

Communion

2010-01-01T00:01:00.000-08:00

This New Year's Eve the family went to church for Family Communion. Our two little ones are lucky- they don't have to sit in church for hours waiting for midnight like I did when I was their ages.
I grew up in a Baptist church and if I close my eyes I can still see and hear it: a few off-beat members of the congregation banging tambourines, people shouting and running around, scaring the young ushers standing in the aisles. Listening to umpteen testimonies that all ended with the same words, "Those of you who know the word of prayer, pray my sCreenf (supposed to be strength) in the Lord!" People holding up the offering plates- putting in a five and getting back four ones, and the same two or three young adults coming down to accept salvation... every New Year's Eve.
Our kids are different. They love going to church! But I still hoped that things would go better than the year before.
Last year when we went, our little son was unpredictable as usual.
When it was our turn to go up to accept communion before the congregation, Dude gave us each our small, square piece of bread and small communion-sized cup of juice. I know Jesus turned water into WINE but everyone don't need the real thang. Well Dude tried to give everyone their "elements" but the little one shook his head, made a disgusting face and said, "No Daddy!"
Well of course the congregation laughed- it wasn't their kid. Well I thought surely he would take it from me but this time he backed up and firmly said, "Nope!" He was not going along with it. We had to accept that because he didn't know, at that point, what it was all about. And to add to it, his sister slurped her juice. You don't slurp communion juice! It's not enough in there!
Well this year the four of us went up and I held my breath when Dude handed it to him. He received it but hid behind Dude for a minute. But he did partake! Maybe that is some indication that 2010 will be great and filled with cooperation! We'll see!

The Christmas List

2009-12-24T14:41:00.001-08:00

Our stockings are not hung by the chimney with care, and hopes of Saint Nicholas were almost not going to be here.
I've come to accept that I am, at times, a dysfunctional parent and that is okay. I guess I should have known that when I forgot to take our kids' teeth when they left them under their pillows. But that is an older blog you can read later.
Well I was almost busted by our little curious six-year-old. He made his Christmas list back in November. A 15-item list with pictures he cut out from a Toys R Us booklet that came in the mail. Kids really think money just grows on trees.
Anyway, he asked me to mail it to the round man in the red and white suit. I agreed then put it in my purse. Well I forgot about the list 'till about a week or so ago when I started my Christmas shopping for them. It was a nice little reference to use with the pictures. After I used it to buy a few things from the long list, I put it back in my purse. Then forgot about it.
Last week I was busy on the computer and he asked me if I had anymore gum. Normally I say, "No" and keep moving but I was in a jolly mood and told him I had some more in my purse. Now I know some of you ladies reading this may wonder why I didn't see the list when I changed purses. Well I'm not that into purses. I have about four: black, black, brown and tan. Only one of them is a designer bag that my hubby purchased for me on my birthday: a black Coach bag. I checked, it's authentic; he didn't get if from the trunk of someone's car.
Back to the story... so he goes to get the gum out of my purse. What was I thinking- I have everything in that purse sometimes.
"It shouldn't take you that long to get a piece of gum!" I shouted.
I heard him rambling.
"All I see is a straw or something in a wrapper!" he yells back.
What in the world was he talking about. I didn't keep straws in my purse. I thought for a moment then realized what he probably found- it definitely was not a straw.
I almost broke my toe getting up from the computer to get my purse. When I got to him he was sitting there holding his list.
"Mama. Why is my letter to Santa in here?"
I snatched my purse, my monthly product he discovered, and the letter. I had to think fast.
"I made a copy of it and sent it to Santa," I told him.
He wasn't buying that.
"But now Santa won't know what to get me for Christmas."
"Trust me he will know."
He was sad.
"Look! Everyone knows that Santa doesn't keep up with list very well so all parents make copies of their kids' list in case he loses them!"
His sister started laughing.
He slowly looks up and over at her. "Why is she laughing then?" he asked.
"I don't know but she better hope Santa got a copy of her list too," I said while giving her a threatening look.
"But mama, if you have the list..." he started.
"NOW LOOK! FOR THE LAST TIME HE GOT THE LIST! He called me on my cell phone to let me know."
He was even more puzzled.
"Santa has YOUR cell phone number mama?"
I was going too far.

Brothers and Sisters

2009-12-24T14:24:00.000-08:00

Our kids are so competitive! If our son hears me say that his sister has done something well- then he has to try and do it too so he can receive some praises.
And you know as parents we want to encourage our kids as much as we can.
Well we have the best of both worlds in them: our daughter is a great writer and her younger brother is a blossoming artist.
I remember when I was little, around the same age as our daughter- possibly younger- my best friend and I were the same. I was an aspiring author and she was an awesome illustrator/artist. We decided to make a book. It could have been a hit except it stopped as soon as the idea came about. We ended up arguing over whose name would appear first on the book cover.
Well our two little ones need to work together and encourage one another.
I think our big eight-year-old is getting nerves now. And her brother is on them quite a bit.
He made a little picture the other day and smiled as he came to show me. "Look at this mommy," he said. I wasn't quite sure what it was but I told him it was good. He skipped off to share it with his sister. I thought about that for a moment then went back to what I was doing.
"What is that?" she asked him, trying not to laugh. "Well mommy said it was good and she knows what it is!" he told her.
"Duh! That's yo mama. She supposed to tell you that," she said laughing.

Getting Through to Kids

2009-11-30T19:30:00.000-08:00

Our little eight-year-old had the worst attitude today after school. Don't worry though I adjusted it.
She sometimes likes to play these little games: you ask her if she wants something and she says no, then tries to change her mind.
Well it didn't work today. I think I have set a precedent now. We got to Jersey Mike's and she says she doesn't like subs. That was new. I told her brother to come on and we ordered salads for Daddy and I and a sub and chips for her brother.
Not a lot was said during the 15 minute drive home. We got home. My son and I washed our hands and sat down to eat.
She sat at the table slowly looking confused.
"Did you get me something?" she asked.
I purposely chomped down on my cucumbers with my mouth open, then smiled and said, "But you said you didn't like subs anymore." I slowly chewed another big bite and asked her if she wanted some Oodles of Noodles or some Frosted Flakes. She loves Frosted Flakes... for breakfast.
"But cereal is for breakfast," she said. "You can eat it anytime really," I told her.
She asked what her other choices were. I informed her that I had not been to the grocery store yet and that is why we grabbed something quick. I offered to make the noodles for her.
She looked in the fridge and freezer as if there were many choices. She then asked if I could make the noodles.
"Sure! Let me take a few more bites!"
"Well who is the other salad (pointing at the fridge) for?" she asked.
"That's your Daddy's."
While the noodles cooked I began grilling her about her attitude and how lucky and fortunate she and her brother were to get the things we give them. I explained how many kids will not get Christmas presents. How excited the little girl at school is who gets the clothes she outgrows sometimes. I looked at our tree in the great room and told her that many families won't have a tree. I told her about some of my students who may get to get a toy or two thanks to some people who will help. And here she is with an attitude?
Oh the tears began to fall. At one point she had a look on her face. I felt led to inform her as many moms from the "old skool" have done before me- "I brought you in this world and I will take you out!"
Well she listened and cried. I gave her some tissues and continued with my speech. Her little brother was looking over his little glasses- taking bites from his turkey sub and looking at his sister and I as if it were a tennis match. He didn't mumble a word.
"When you finish eating your noodles I will check your homework, then you can brush your teeth and head for bed."
Before she went to bed she came to me to give me a quick kiss, then put some money in front of the computer along with a small note.
Once she went upstairs to bed I read it:
Dear Mama,
When you told me what the kids were like and how they had to live I felt sorry
for them. So I gave you this . It's my alloence. You have it and get something for
yourself.
Love you.

It was $1.51

NOSTALGIA

2009-11-15T20:23:00.000-08:00

Saturdays, as I've mentioned, are my "real" cleaning days usually. Well I went up to help our young ones and made a discovery: found about five shirts stuffed in the back of our son's drawer. When I pulled them out he didn't seem too concerned. Looked like his little nostrils flared a bit. Maybe disappointment? There were no words coming from his mouth.
"We need to wash these so you can wear these again. I'd forgotten about them," I smiled as I shook them out.
As I continued helping, I realized that at least two of those shirts he didn't care for.
"The kids are gonna waugh (still trouble with Ls) at me," he told us one morning before school. Kids these days don't know style. The shirt was "Hot" as they say, to me.
Sitting there in the quiet of his partially cleaned room I thought about it. Then I thought about me... back in the day... when I didn't like something I had to wear.
I would mix up a concoction of whatever I could get my hands on in the kitchen and mix it all up and put it on an area of the hated clothing. And hope that it would be bad enough to not come out. Hoped my mom couldn't "Shout" it out. Most times she couldn't. Or I would stain a dress on the Sunday mornings that the "Old Folks" choir was singing. I think they called them the "Seniors". I didn't want to go those Sundays and watch them rock different ways and sing out the hymnals ALL morning. When they would sing, "I'll Fly Away" for the 200th time I was hoping they would really fly away out that prism glass near the organ. Or "Pass Me Not" for the thousandth time- "Please Jesus don't pass them by. Stop and pick 'em up!" Okay I went on a tangent didn't I. Memories. I tell ya!
So I empathized with our son. I decided to wash them and pass two of them on to someone else. Aren't I the best? He's lucky. My mom woulda gave me a 20-minute spill about how little kids in Africa didn't have any clothes and I should appreciate the thick, wooled, turtlenecks she bought me. I would have lost teeth had I informed her that the little African children didn't need the clothes- they were HOT! Like my neck was in those shirts!!

FREE CLEANING! By Any Means Necessary!

2009-11-10T06:16:00.000-08:00

Usually my Saturdays are designated as my thorough cleaning days. Not that I don't clean other days too but I do my "heavier" cleaning on Saturday mornings. This also means that all other dwellers in mi casa must get up and clean too. I'm an equal opportunity type person ya know.

Well I slept in instead. I was so tired from the week. It was hard to not do anything.

Well Hallelujah I got some unexpected help from a stranger!

The doorbell rings around 2pm. The kids were out in the backyard playing and Dude ran out for a quick errand.

I went to the door slowly, wondering who it could be and I had on my around the house wardrobe and hair.

It was a male. Looked to be in his early to mid-20s. He was smiling and thankfully was backed up away from the door. As I got closer to the door I noticed he had a spray bottle.

As soon as I opened the door he started with his pitch.

"Hey ma'am who does your windows?" he asked looking at my front windows.

"Well, when they get done, I do them," I responded.

He began spraying them and wiping them down. "Look at that! No streaks or anything."

Before I could comment he knelt down and began spraying the white wood rails near the steps. And the stuff worked well but my eyes were drawn to something else. Smoke.

I noticed that this guy had been puffing on a cigarette! Trying to sell a product and was smoking. On my porch!

"Hey... are you all selling cigarettes too?" I laughed.

He put the cigarette out. On my steps!

He continued on with his spill about the product- Protek or something. Fast talker he tried to be.

"Do you have carpet?" he asked. "Nope! We have hardwoods," I told him thinking that would be it with his show.

"Who cleans your car?" he asked, looking at my van parked in the garage (the door was up).

"My husband. He will be back in a few minutes," I told him.

As I stepped outside to follow him to my van, he continued on explaining how great the product is because it cleans everything. No need to spend money buying myriad cleaning products.

He asked me if I had any stains in my car. I have two young kids- of course I did!

I slid the doors open and showed him the stained carpet.

"Do you have a white rag?" he asked. And I happened to have one right there in the garage. I was happy to get it for him.

He sprayed the first spot and rubbed it and sure enough it came right up. I inspected it. Folded my arms and said, "Well yes but some of those other stains (pointing them out) are a little tougher to get out. They have been there forever and nothing I've tried will get them out."
He sprayed the spots and got them out. By the time he finished my carpet looked like it had been freshly shampooed!
He was excited! And so was I! I was about to get my van cleaned. He moved on to show me how clean it can get the body of the van. Of course I allowed him.

I still wasn't sold. I kept my arms folded- on guard.

"You see those oil stains there (pointing to the garage floor)?"

I nodded.

He sprayed one and it came up with some elbow action behind it.

"Yes but look how hard you had to do that to get it up," I remarked.

I think he rolled his eyes but then sprayed another spot, then stood back and looked at me.

"Well this IS a garage. As you can see we don't really bother with getting up stains from a GARAGE floor. But let me see how the front window looked again."

We walked back. I kicked the cigarette he put out, from my front steps. Then frowned at the bottom or my shoe- just to remind him of his lack of professionalism.
"Now if that stuff can get this window clean without streaks, then it is some good stuff!" I suggested. He seemed reluctant to do it but he sprayed it and wiped really quickly. How I wished I could get my bathroom cleaned. But I do have limits and great sense. I mean this guy did have a cigarette with him. Can't trust him pass my opened garage. It was a nice day so neighbors were out. Finally we had our back-and-forth session: "See ma'am this product will save you money down the road." "How so?" I asked. He explained that it would save me from having to spend $20 or more per month buying cleaning products. "I may spend $5 a month on cleaning supplies," I corrected him. "Well you can save money and time cleaning your own car and the outside of your house if you buy this than if you paid someone to do it for you." I shook my head. "Why would I clean the outside of my house? It is a house! The rain can do that. And my husband cleans our cars with a special product from one of his friends that we get for free." No we don't have a friend with any products but hey- how would he know that?

I let him go through all that-he worked now- and I did not buy a squirt of that stuff. He looked mad too. He did sell some to the sucker- I mean to our neighbor.
"See. Your neighbor got some from me. You are missing out!" the guy yelled later when I saw him next door.
"Hey... I'll just use some of his!" I smiled. And I don't want any cigarettes!

I Want to Be a Dude!

2009-11-08T19:27:00.001-08:00

I want to be a Dude!
They don't have to do much. They get to sit around on Saturdays and watch sports. Then on Sundays they get to watch sports again. They don't have to think about maybe throwing some clothes in the washer and dryer while the games are on. Nope!
They get to talk on the phone to their friends about nothing and surprisingly the friend on the other end- another guy in this case- actually understands. Some kind of guy code.
"Man I'm tellin' you. You know what I'm sayin'?" "Man I was like woahhhh!"
What is that? They can also stay on the phone and talk without anyone interrupting them because we know they cannot talk on a cordless phone and do any other thing.
Oh and they get to do crazy stuff and wonder why they get the responses they get:
While looking in the refrigerator they get to ask, "Honey do we have any milk?"
So when their spouse rolls her eyes and responds, "Hmm... I don't know- check the drawer where we keep the spoons and forks!" They get to mumble, "Here we go. She trippin'."
I mean where else would the MILK be? If it ain't in the fridge where cold things are kept then would that not mean there isn't any? HELLO!!!
They get to speak French at times, "We painted all of this ourselves and We clean the house." But it was a single person doing it.
Oh and Dudes get to come home each day from work and plop on the couch while their spouses come home and put a cape and "S" on and run around and do myriad things.
They also get smiles and kudos when they are out with their own kids. Getting credit for what they are supposed to do. While their wives get weird looks when she is out with the kids at Target just because she has one of the kids in the headlock and the other one in the figure-four because she has had it with them (kids) fighting. I ain't condoning hurting your kids but... I understand.
Dudes don't have to cook but once in a blue moon and when they do they really go all out and make.... HOT DOGS! A real Marshall Stewart!
And guess what? They get to leave the dishes. God forbid they should be expected to wash all the dishes from cooking that meal or, how about this... be expected to put the dishes in the dishwasher. Naw- of course not.
And when it's time to put the kids to bed, if a NFL game is on- the kids on their own with the prayer. "Now I lay me- you can say the rest then cut your lights off and go to sleep!"
Not nare tooth brushed before they go or anything.
I want to be a Dude.

Michael or Michelle

2009-11-05T19:46:00.000-08:00

I'd been home about thirty minutes before I noticed. Dude and the kids had been home about an hour before me. Our son noticed about the same time I did.
Michael or Michelle- one of 'em was gone. The kids named one after Michael Jackson when he died and Michelle Obama.
Our son looked stood over top and looked in. He tapped on the glass.
One of the turtles was missing.
How in the world could a turtle be missing from the tank? They were both there that morning when we left. Turtles don't get taken out for walks like dogs.
"One of the turtles is missing!" our son yelled.
I was on the couch. My feet immediately went up. I'm the only one in the house who does NOT handle those little creatures.
The other turtle had been swimming around wildly for a minute. When Dude came downstairs I told him, "I think the other one has been trying to tell us what was up."
Dude turned his lips up at me.
"Hey I don't know what goes on in those tiny heads of theirs," I shrugged my shoulders.
Our daughter came running in all late. She went up to the tank and started talking to the turtle left behind.
She's a turtle whisperer!
So the three of them went off looking for the turtle. I sat right there on the couch and watched Oprah.
After about ten minutes they got flashlights and were looking under couches, behind doors- one of the kids was trying to look under the fridge and stove.
"Um... if Michael can get up under there with that big ole shell he has to carry- then leave him under there," I told them.
"It's MICHELLE!" one of them yelled.
Whatever.
To speed this story up. I sat there laughing because they looked everywhere around the house and could not find the darn thing. The eight-year-old turtle whisperer (can you hear me saying it softly for great effects?) was walking around shaking the container of turtle food. As if the thing would hear it and come out. See what I am dealing with? About an hour later Dude found him- her, whatever. He didn't give up. He was determined to find the little ninja, with that big old camping flashlight. And he did. He looked so happy to have found it too.
"I found it!" he yelled. We all came running out asking, "Where? Where?"
It had managed to crawl back behind some speakers on the floor right up under the television. It was inside its shell. Dude picked it up and was talking to the darn thing like a baby- all in its face. "Whatcha doin'? Just what have you been doin'?"
I rolled my eyes. I almost wished the thang could have coughed at him or something.
"Go on and put it back in the tank. The other one in there is looking like Leftout Lamont," I told him.
I bet it was the same one that has gotten out before. This made the third time we had come home and found a turtle loose.
When he put it back in the tank, it went swimming all frantic. Moving the rocks on the bottom. Yep! It was the same one with the funky attitude problem.
Well this story ain't over. Oh no!
I told Dude to take some water out the tank and lower their floating rock. I think the little smart creature waits until the other one gets up there and basks, then climbs on that one and gets out. I'd love to put up a hidden camera to see what happens. Well I guess it doesn't need to be a hidden camera though. Anywho...Dude didn't listen to me. But do you know what this Dude did?
He took one of those adjustable screens that you put on a window when you don't have screens- on top of the tank. Just laid it up on top of the tank. It ain't the same size or anything. Just laid it up there. Now there is a water filter at the top of the tank too so the screen looks really ridiculous just sitting there. I can't let folks see that!
I'll have to post a picture so people can see what I am having to deal with.
I'm 'bout to be on the show Snapped!

Say Something!

2009-11-02T04:47:00.001-08:00

I've had to tell my six-year-old, "umpteen" (my mom used that word a lot when I was younger) times that he weighed almost ten pounds at birth and his sister was almost nine pounds. I mean I'm not gonna have a tiny waist and flat tummy anymore. That area is now referred to as "You two did this!" When I am changing and they make faces.
Well we were watching television and a commercial came on. It was a commercial advertising that product for slimming your stomach and waist areas- kind of like a girdle. Well the little six-year-old with the bad memory immediately looked over at me half-way through the commercial. Before he could say a word, I said, "Say something and I promise you that I will tell all of your little friends that you are afraid of Santa Claus and the Chick-Fil-A cow!"

No Motherly Instincts Tonight

2009-10-26T19:56:00.000-07:00

I was not like the protective bear over her cubs tonight. I hate to tell it but here it goes. Please do not judge me until you have been in my shoes.
So I took our daughter to someone's house this evening so she could get her hair braided. Our babysitter tagged along with us.
When we got out of the car, I do what I always do when I go to a new neighborhood... I surveyed to see if a dog was going to come running from behind the house. And I don't discriminate- I look for cats too. They may be small but they are sneaky. Side note* I really hate it when pet owners smile and say, "She won't bite." I mean they have teeth and they won't bite THEM because they know them but I am fair game.
Anywho, I didn't see or hear a dog but when I rang the doorbell I did ask, "Do you have a dog?"
Coast was clear.
Well about an hour later when her hair was finished, we said our goodbyes and thank yous and headed for the car. By this time it was dark. I had my key out ready to get in the car which was parked right in front of the house.
We stepped off the porch and I heard barking. Now if you ask me it sounded like it was coming from a huge dog like a Cujo. It was dark- I couldn't see. Next thing I knew was I was running to the car and was trying to jump on the hood. It had been raining all day and was continuing to, so I could not get a good grip and kept sliding. I must have, for some reason, closed my eyes because I don't remember what I saw and my car is white. Who knows what was going on in my head.
Sounded like the dog was getting closer too. I started yelling for our daughter and the sitter who is seventeen, to get in the car.
"Git in the car! Git in the car!" While I am still sliding and trying to get on the hood so I can get to the top.
"We can't get in!" the sitter yelled back while pulling on the door.
My heart was racing and I realized I had the key in my hand but wasn't pushing the unlock button. I was being one of those women in the scary movies I usually yell at- "Get up stupid and run! Look at this- I tell you what-" Now there I was acting just as crazy.
I finally press the button. The doors are unlocked and I get off the hood and get in first. Then realized I'd left my own eight-year-old daughter and another minor outside for Cujo! They finally get in. I was the only one out of breath.
We finally realize that the dog was still barking but nowhere near the car. He'd been on a chain.
We laughed a little but then I realized that my motherly instincts did not kick in like the car did when I put it in drive. As I drove out of the neighborhood in route to take the sitter home, I processed what had happened. There I was with the front of my clothes soaked from trying to get on the hood of my car in the rain and the dog was not even loose. I would feel bad if I find out the dog was small too.

The "F" Word!

2009-10-25T12:36:00.000-07:00

I've previously mentioned that this our kids' first time ever riding the bus to school since I no longer work at their school. I've posted a few stories about my worries about them being on the bus. I have to remember that all kids are not raised the same and people are products of their environment.
I have tried to shield them from as much as possible. Sure at their ages I knew a whole lot more than they did but those were different times (1970s) and my environment was much different. For example, I was all over the neighborhood playing from sun up 'till the street lights flickered on, and my mom did not have to be within eyesight. I learned how to skate and ride a bike simply by getting out there with myriad other kids in our apartment complex. We fell, dusted it off and kept trying until we got it. Don't remember wearing helmets either. Now, our kids better not leave our yard and we are either on the porch, or somewhere nearby.
Well in our house some words have been considered as bad but of course in other homes this may not be the case. Other kids may know the "real" bad words.
So as usual they spring something on me while I am driving. "Mama. This boy said the "F" word, this morning on the bus," our son said from the middle seat. So, being the sometimes paranoid mom that I am, I swerve a bit. Panicking, I first turned the radio up louder instead of down.
"A boy said what?" I yelled. Once the kids took their hands off their ears, his sister chimed in.
"Well actually he said two, bad "F" words!"
I am looking at the road in front of me and looking in the mirror at them- back-and-forth.
"Did the bus driver hear them? What did she do?" I asked them.
"I don't know if she heard him but the other teenagers heard him," our son said.
They are in elementary school so I didn't know what he was talking about when he said teenagers. "What grade were these teenagers in?" I asked. "Oh they were in the fourth or fifth grade," our daughter answered. "They are not teenagers," I told them. "They just probably look big." Our daughter thinks that kids are teens if they are taller than she is.
Finally we get to the meat of the story. I was afraid to ask but I did. "What did the boy say?"
"Mama. I don't want to say it. It's bad," our son said. "You promise I won't get in trouble for saying it?" he asked, closing his eyes. Then our loose-lipped daughter jumped in again. "I'll tell you what he said!" I was on edge. How could little elementary kids on the bus say the "F" word. Where had they learned this? Finally our son rushed in to tell me to beat his sister.
The "F" words were fool and fart. Well... they are bad words in our house.

What a Day!

2009-10-21T18:17:00.001-07:00

Today was just one of those days. It started off crazy. Now I will admit I am just one of those people who does things that make you wanna take your finger and make circles around your ear. Well that was our "crazy" sign when I was younger.
So this morning when I started to put on my shirt I noticed something funny about it. The two strings that are inside of some shirts- one at each end- to help hang them, were tied together! It was a tight knot too. I hadn't made Dude mad recently so it had to be one of the two who don't help pay the mortgage!
So I'm on my way to work, listening to the radio, minding my own business. When I get on the highway I hear a noise. Not loud enough to pull over. I turn the radio down and figure I'll check it when I get to work. A little later, I noticed the car beside me staying with me. So I sped up. The car did too. I gave a quick look to the left and saw the blur of a man trying to get my attention. I didn't have time for this. I was on a mission: try to get in Bojangles's drive-thru quickly so I could get a small coffee- extra sugar and cream, bacon, egg and cheese biscuit before it got backed up.
Then I heard a horn. THE SAME GUY! Sweatin' me!
I slowly turn with my "What do you want?" look and he was pointing down at my door. So I'm trying to figure out what could be wrong. It was the belt from my coat. It had been flapping the whole drive.
The laughs don't stop there. Oh no! So I get to work. Walk down the hall to my classroom and unlock my door. Key don't work. I get all worked up, but smile as other staff walk by. In my mind I am fussing. Kept trying the key for about five minutes too. Then realize that my car key won't work for my classroom door.
Finally when I get home this evening, all I want to do is relax. With an eight and six-year-old? Well I plop on the bed- planning to get still for just ten minutes. I yell for the kids to come get THEIR mess out of our bedroom and take it to their rooms. "And get all of your stuff out of the living room too. It doesn't go their either!" I yelled.
As they walk off I hear our six-year-old son tell his sister, "She just gone do nothin' while we do all the work."
The nerve.!

Salvation and Baptism

2009-10-19T06:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we had a few people get baptized during church. Three of them were youngsters in our daughter's youth class at church. So I brought it up on the way home from church.
"You know three of your friends at church were baptized today."
I saw her expression from my mirror. She was puzzled. "They were what?" she asked.
"Pastor Ken didn't talk to you and the rest of the class about being baptized and getting saved?" I asked her.
She was thinking. But I was quite sure they had gone over that myriad times on Sundays and Wednesday nights. There is no telling what she was doing during these times. Hopefully she wasn't like me when I was her age- sitting in the back of the church and changing the titles of the songs in the Hymnal books. And I wonder why she does some of the things she does.
So I went on to try to explain, on her level, what baptism and salvation meant. Now mind you she is quite intelligent and, as older folk say, "acts as if she's been here before".
"You now what being saved means right?" I asked her. With bodily expression she answers, "Yep! That's when you say 'HELP!' and someone comes to save you."
I rolled my eyes. "You ain't gotta do all of that!" I then adjusted my mirror so I could not see her so clearly anymore.
So I explained what it meant. I then went on to TRY to explain what being baptized meant. I added that, "Some people say it's like you are being cleansed; washing your sins away." I thought I could say that because she clearly understood what sins were. We go over that word a lot with our two.
"Yes Mama," she said as if I should have known she knew that. "I did that this morning when I washed my face. You were right there with me- watching me like you always do."
I give up!

Fixing Attitudes

2009-10-18T15:43:00.000-07:00

This weekend the men of the house went camping for the first time with the Boys Scouts! "Now you know we could all go as a family. Other women and daughters will be there," Daddy told me.
I smiled and told him, "Oh naw. This will be bonding time for you two and for us (pointing to our daughter)." I just imagined a bunch of walking, no real technology and sleeping outside. So I opted for the house. Besides I really felt like I needed some one-on-one with our daughter. In a few years she may not want to hang out with me.
So I helped the guys to pack and pushed- I mean saw them off!
Friday night we just hung out watching TV and I managed to get some laundry done in between. Of course all she wanted to do was watch Nickelodeon and Boomerang but I sat right there and laughed with her.
We started our day Saturday by going to Target. So I'm looking around in one section while she finds her way to the little music center near the stationery. You know that small, little CD preview spot where you can push the buttons to hear different selections on selected Cd's. So she is there- no harm in that and she loves music. Then I noticed her talking to someone. Another little girl, looked to be about five or six came over. Well out of my periphery I see something kinda flash. Like it was in the air and then gone. In the air then gone. I turned to see the little girl giving our daughter cart wheel lessons. Right there in Target!
"No ma'am! You can't do cart wheels in the store," I told her. The little girl who probably came to my waist was looking at me up-and-down, with her hand on her waist as if she could take me. I gave our daughter the eyebrow raise and walked back to what I was looking at.
"That's my mama. She gots her hair in a bun like mine but that's not her real hair- it's braided," she told the little girl. I noticed a lady shopping near us, smiling. She'd heard her. Nosey lady!
I didn't smile back.
When it was time to go she attempted to pout. Then the little eight-year-old attitude came. When we were at the register I asked her, "Where do you wanna go eat?" "I'm not hungry," she quickly responded.
See this is what she does when she gets mad. Says she doesn't want something-thinking it is hurting us.
"Last time. What do you want to eat?" Her response was the same as she stared out the window of the car.
So I went to Zaxby's and ordered my food in the drive-thru. Then drove home with my music up, singing like it was karaoke! The aroma of my wings-n-things filling the car (windows were up too). I drove by two McDonald's, a Burger King, Subway, and blew the horn at Taco Bell!
Went home put my feet up, flexed my toes, turned to HGTV and ate slowly.
About thirty minutes later she said she was hungry. "Let's see. You got cereal, stuff to make sandwiches, those cheap, tasteless noodles, or find something in the freezer you can mic up!"
Gotta nip that attitude in the bud early!

No New Food for Michael and Shirley Now!

2009-10-15T18:40:00.001-07:00

As I've mentioned in earlier posts, we have two pets. Their names have changed a few times but we have two red-eared slider turtles. When we first got them in May, at our son's request, he named them Myrtle and Skippity! When Michael Jackson passed away a month later, he and his sister named them Michael and Shirley. Don't ask about the name Shirley.
Dude and I have never been interested in turtles or any other reptile but he has actually grown to love those two reps. He talks to them every time he goes by their tank. I may sound a little envious but once I needed an important feminine product and he pouted like a child about going out to get it for me but last week Michael or Shirley (who can tell) ate some gravel and Dude had a fit. He was in the yellow pages calling all the animal hospitals (all two in our small area) trying to get help. I mean this Dude was running out AT NIGHT to get some mineral oil for the little reptile. He was like Bo and Luke Duke jumping in the car that night. He went so far as to try to give the turtle an enema with that darn mineral oil. But Michael wasn't having it! The turtle had head and tail in that shell. See that's why we need a dog. We coulda just led a dog to some grass and called it a day.
Our kids love Michael and Shirley too of course and I don't want anything to happen to them but I don't get all in the tank nor do I pick them up at anytime. But I do feed them sometimes.
They (turtles) have a lot of personality. When we come home they are at the top of the tank moving fast.
Well I went up to the tank and they quickly went back down to the bottom. I didn't really think much about it initially. Then our daughter walked by and casually said, "They don't like you Mama."
I laughed. "What you talkin' about girl. Those turtles don't know who is who."
Well I noticed a few minutes later that they were at the top of the tank and our daughter was looking over the tank talking talking to them. "Hey turtle wurtle wurtle!" she smiled. And Michael and Shirley stayed there.
So I started thinking about that thang. Then later on I noticed that when our son and Dude were at the tank they did the same thing: they didn't go to the bottom.
But I didn't want anyone to know this was giving me a complex. Wouldn't hear the end of it from my family. I walked by when I thought no one was looking.
The darn reptiles went back down to the rocks! I couldn't believe it.
"Told you they didn't like you Mama," our daughter said, sitting at the computer in our bedroom.
"Whatever! Cut some lights on when you in there!" I yelled. But that's okay. I was going to try to find some new turtle food at the pet store to give them some variety. Hope they love their old food.

Wilbur Betta Go On!

2009-10-13T19:36:00.000-07:00

I thought I hurt Wilbur enough in the car a few months ago, enough that he would not be heard from again. I was wrong.
So Dude (he's been trippin' lately) was helping our daughter with her homework and you really have to meet her and know her to understand our impatience. I mean she really thinks she knows more than us. Do you know how frustrating that can get? I'm just blinking my eyes-just blinking my eyes.
He's helping her and I'll have to admit, he is getting frustrated because he knows she should be getting the concept and his explanation, but she is just looking. No expression. Can't even tell what she is thinking. Then out of nowhere she whispers to Wilbur. "No Wilbur I can't do that. Now cut it out before I get in trouble."
I was on the couch reading just a few feet away from them. I just kept my eyes on my book- scared to look up. "Will Social Services be at our door later?" I thought. This chic had temporarily lost her mind.
Dude didn't respond immediately but then the roar came. "THAT'S IT WITH THIS WILBUR MESS! IF WILBUR CAN'T BE SEEN BY EVERYBODY THEN WILBUR GOTS TO GO!" Putting it in caps just can't put you there but gives you some idea.
"You are too big for Wilbur! I don't wanna hear no mo 'bout Wilbur! You understand me?" He added and had come down just a tad with the volume.
"Yes ma'am," she answered. He was so hot he didn't notice she called him ma'am. I felt my hand going up to inform him but the right side of my brain told my arm that it was not the time.
That just shut everything down. I think he forgot what he was doing. Oh but when she would bring Wilbur out on me, Dude thought it was hilarious.
She sat there quiet for a minute. Then I noticed her blinking and crossing her eyes at the same time, really fast.
"Stop that!" I yelled.
She tried to look innocent.
"Just go to bed girl!" I told her. She moved slowly with her head down, walking toward the stairs. When she hit the first step she perked up like nothing had just happened and asked, "Does anyone know what we are having for lunch tomorrow in the cafeteria?"
"Chicken Butt! That's what!" I yelled and crossed my eyes. "That's what Wilbur said!" I added.

I'm Stayin' Out of the Bathroom at Work

2009-10-12T19:58:00.000-07:00

Okay. I was so worried about going back to work today. Friday something embarrassing happened. To me- not Dude this time.
Well there is a bathroom right around the corner from my classroom for staff. Well I don't think you should use bathrooms at work to do nothing pass number one. I know we all eat lunch and whatever but do those things at home. The staff bathroom is basically a closet and there are no windows. Anywho... near the beginning of school, sometime late August, I went to use the bathroom and was immediately hit by a smell. Someone had snuck a dunk! Well I needed to go bad and get back to my room, so I held my breath a few times, did what I needed to do (the basics), quickly washed my hands and got out of there.
Well when I went out, in a hurry and out of breath from holding my breath, there was another teacher. She gave me a quick smile and went right in. I had no time to tell her my side of the story or anything. I didn't know what to do. I needed her to know it was not me that left that smell. I just went on to my room. Never cleared it up and just hoped she let it go- no pun intended.
Well fast forward to October now. I had surgery about a month ago and had to get three incisions. One was right on my bikini line. Well with two huge babies (son was 9 lbs. 11 ounces), metabolism slowing down, and just getting older, I have to work with my tummy to see that particular cut. It had been feeling a little uncomfortable again so I wanted to check it. My hall was pretty much empty Friday- many of the classes were on a field trip, so I just figured I would just dart in and out of the bathroom to check. I didn't lock the door because as I said, I planned to be in and out.
Well... well... well, as soon as I "adjusted" my tummy to check the cut, someone turns the door and opens it. She could- dummy me didn't lock it. Can you just imagine what she thought walking in on me in that position? She said sorry and left. My chin was to my chest and she caught me off guard so I'm not even sure who it was. So all day today I was giving people the stingy caterpillar eyebrows when they spoke.

No! Not the Stingy Caterpillar Eyebrows!

2009-10-11T19:24:00.000-07:00

After all of my many talks about not letting other kids take advantage of them and taking up for one another, our little eight-year-old, compassionate daughter took action!
We went to a birthday/cookout. There were kids there, mostly a little older than our two. They had one of those huge, inflatables that you can jump in set up in the backyard. All of the kids were enjoying that of course. Well apparently when the adults when inside the teens decided to make the younger ones- our two kids and maybe three others- stay out while they jumped.
According to our two, our son tried to get in and that's when one of the teens told him not to come in. He was upset and went to his other mama- his sister who is not quite even two years older- and pouted a bit. Surprisingly she did something.
"Mama. I made my stingy caterpillar eyebrows and looked at that girl and whispered, 'Don't nobody- I mean NObody mess with my baby brother!'"
Now she was telling us this while Daddy was driving us home last night and being the parents we are, we were up front looking at each other, trying not to burst out into laughter.
I turned around and asked her, "What is the stinky caterpillar eyebrows?"
"No Mama it's the STINGY caterpillar eyebrows. Like this (showing me how her eyebrows wrinkle when she makes a mean face)."
I could see Daddy's stomach going in-and-out while he watched the road ahead. I whispered to Daddy while she continued with her story, "She big and bad with the eyebrows but then she whispered."
"I know right," he commented. "She was about to mess somebody up with the stingy caterpillars!" I snickered.
"And Mama I think all of them teenagers were scared, cause they were just standing there looking at me, like they couldn't believe that this (pointing at herself) little girl was looking that mean!"
"Show me the stingy caterpillar eyebrows again baby girl," Daddy said. I slapped his leg.
And of course she showed him. It was a little more fierce this time and she sound like she was growling.
Daddy whispered, "No those looks they were giving her was probably more like somebody betta come get this lil crazy girl."
I gave Daddy the stingy caterpillar eyebrows.

Milking It!

2009-10-09T05:00:00.000-07:00

"Mama. What does milk it mean?" our son asked.
My eyebrows wrinkled before answering him. How in the world did he know about that?
"Where did you hear that buddy?" I smiled.
"Remember when you were talkin' to your friend on the phone the last day?" he answered.
Little nosey thang! I had a conversation recently with a friend about how much Daddy had been helping out around the house since having my surgery. She suggested I take advantage of that and "milk it" as much as I could even when I started feeling better.
How could I explain this to our little nosey, six-year-old without encouraging him to do it later and more importantly without making Mommy Dearest look bad of course?
"Well milking it is what Daddy did back when you were born," I began. "Daddy had a surgery right after Mommy had pushed out all nine pounds and eleven ounces of you."
"Yes Mama I know where babies come from," he rolled his eyes. I stopped for a moment. "From our tummies right?" I asked him.
He smiled. "No. I saw the tape," he began to hide his face. I was starting to get nervous. "Where do they come from then?"
"From your hiney," he replied, then pointed down. "I saw on that tape when you were in the hospital when I was being boring."
I tried to remember the tape. I knew Daddy had not recorded too much but wasn't sure how he concluded that it was not my belly. I wasn't ready to go there yet so I ignored that and continued to make Daddy look bad- I mean I continued with my example of "milking it".
"So Daddy had his surgery and Mama was having a hard time getting around after having you," I tried to continue.
"What kind of surgery did Daddy have?" he asked.
"Ummm. It was a surgery to stop his little soldiers from marching," I said without thinking. Now I was going to have to explain that. He was puzzled. Before he could ask I said, "Well ask your Daddy about that."
"Anywho. Daddy had his little, simple surgery that didn't take nearly as long as it did for Mama to have you and he came home."
"Did Daddy cry when he had surgery? Did they use a big, big needle?" he asked.
"No Daddy didn't cry- he was a big boy!"
I tried to wrap up the story. It was six years ago but so vivid to me. After having his "quick" surgery he had come home and told me that he needed to ice "the area" and rest. Well I understood that but we started having problems. First I was not okay with him putting the ice packs he used on "the area" BACK in the freezer once he used it. Naw!
"Uh, did you use this?" I asked him when I saw the ice pack in the freezer.
"Yes but it's not that big a deal. How else am I gonna keep the pack frozen?" he asked.
Holding it by a small corner, I pulled it out and put it in the sink. I just didn't think an ice pack that had been "on the area" should be next to my frozen strawberries. It was just the thought I guess.
"Well Daddy told Mama that he was supposed to not do anything but rest for two weeks once he had the surgery," I continued.
"So Daddy couldn't do nothing?" he asked.
"Well... Mama just happened to find a paper that Daddy forgot about, while she was hobbling around the house trying to help Daddy and take care of you and your active sister (who was two), and the paper said that Daddy was supposed to rest for ONE to TWO days."
"Daddy told a story?"
"Yes! Daddy was going to lay in the recliner, watch ESPN and MILK IT!" I told him.

Lord Help Me!

2009-10-08T18:12:00.000-07:00

The kids are going to cause my stress to go up. I'll be pullin' a Fred Sanford- holding my heart and looking up to the sky- but not sure who I will be saying, "I'm coming to join you honey" to cause Dude still here, shaking his head at me when I get all bent out of shape. Well... one of us has to keep it together.
I think I mentioned that this is the first school year the kids have had to ride the bus to school. Well they have been telling us about things that happen on that bus since the first week. They should know by now that their mama can't take it.
They came home Tuesday and told me that some kids were calling our son crazy.
"WHAT?" I asked.
And I guess after my reaction, our daughter thought she was going to make it a little better.
"Well actually they just called him (pointing to her brother) crazy. Not me."
"I don't care! I've told you umpteen times that you stick together. You gotta look out for your younger brother!"
I took a pause for the cause and brought it down a notch before asking, " Why were they calling you crazy?"
His sister answered before he could.
"Well he asked some boys if they eat Kool-Aid packs."
There was silence in the living room.
"NO WONDER THEY THOUGHT YOU WERE CRAZY! I WOULD TOO!"
I mean who just comes out of the blue and ask that?
Now mind you he has sneaked and ate them. Instead of putting them in his water bottles he has just ate them, then had a colored mouth and attempted to say he didn't eat it.
I mean come on!!!
A few weeks ago there was something similar with our daughter.
"Mama. Such-and-such is always looking at me eat then telling other people at the table to look at me too," she told me.
"WHAT? Why is she watching you eat?"
I mean how ridiculous for someone to be watching our daughter eat? She ain't bothering nobody.
"What were you eating?"
She started with her usual word- "Well... that time I was fixing my taco."
Now she loves tacos!
"Okay," I said. "What did you put on it?"
"Well I put my meat, then my greens then my cheese and-"
"Wait. You said greens. Don't you mean lettuce?" I asked.
"Well actually we didn't have any lettuce so I put the greens on it," she answered.
Surely she meant the lettuce was green.
Nope. She meant collard greens.
"NO WONDER THE GIRL LOOKIN' AT YOU! I would too!" I yelled.
Lord help me!

Dysfunctional Mom

2009-09-29T19:50:00.000-07:00

Okay maybe I need to go on and begin writing my first novel. It would be appropriately titled, Diary of a Dysfunctional Mom.
Here's just one of many reasons why. And believe me... I ain't makin' this stuff up.
With our daughter's little note a few days ago, that she wrote in class, her slackness with Math and her brother's mouth and frowning when we make him read- I came up with an idea: NO TV during the week at all!
"Until you two can get it together you will only see Sponge Bob and Disney Channel on the weekends!" I told them.
They were silent of course. I guess it would have been loud if our over-the-top daughter could have made noise stretching her eyes. Can Disney sign her? She is really good.
"What if Daddy or you are watching it and we walk by," our son asked.
I just stared at him.
"Well (seriously pondering) we could just walk by with our eyes closed if we hear that the TV is on," his sister suggested, as she stood up to demonstrate- bumping into the sofa.
"Sit down!" I told her with my teeth clinched.
"Can we just watch the commercials?" he tried again.
Again, I stared at him.
"What about the TVs in our wooms?" he asked with his hand raised.
I was losing it.
"How 'bout I just take them out your Rooms (emphasizing the R)?" I answered.
He was quiet for all of five seconds then he asked, "Are you gonna sell them Mama?"
Here we go again.
Ever since I had a yard sale and put out some of their old toys, they act like I am "Crack-head Carla" or someone.
"Well you know she did sell some of your dinosaurs and Barney tapes," our daughter said.
"No I didn't. I don't know where your dinosaurs are nor your little Barney tapes!" I told them.
"Well I'll take that back- I gave your Barney tapes to Goodwill because you and your sister are too big for them now," I added.
His sister attempted to smother her laugh.
In a baby voice she pointed to her brother and said, "Well someone still likes Barney and BJ!"
"Okay that is enough!" I shouted.
So for the past few days I had been shocked that they had not complained about not being able to watch television after they finished their homework.
Well today I found out why. I mean I feel completely dysfunctional.
I didn't think about the computer.
I walked into the room to grab a notebook. On the way out I backed up to look at the screen. They were watching True Jackson VP (a Nickelodeon show) on YouTube!

Friday

2009-09-26T18:49:00.000-07:00

Dude went back to his home town this weekend for his 20-year, high school reunion.
I picked the kids up a little early from school Friday since I was feeling a lot better as I am still in recovery from my surgery two weeks ago.
My plans were to go home for a few minutes then take them to the Dollar store to get two items. It's wonderful having kids who aren't yet "hipped" to many of the things of the world. (Wasn't that a cute little way to put it?) For allowance they earn half of the age: our son is six so he gets three bucks and our daughter is eight so she gets four, and they are content with that. Besides they don't have a lot to do around the house.
So I routinely check their folders to see what they did for the week in school. Before I could open our son's he said, "I didn't pull any dollars (their first grade behavior/reward system) Mama. I always have a good week!"
And he was right.
Well his sister was acting a little peculiar. She was quiet. We normally can't get her to stop talking.
She did poorly on a Math quiz one day- making careless errors. That's what gets me- when she missed simple stuff because she didn't check over her work. I'd rather for her to miss the hard ones and tell me she didn't understand.
Earlier this week I had to get Dude to stop being Jo Jackson during a homework session. He was getting upset about Micheal's- I mean our daughter's lack of attention when he was explaining a problem. He almost falls trying to stand up over her and pull his belt off all in one movement. This was a sight. I think he planned to pull it through easily but as he pulled it through it got stuck and caused him to do a 180 degree turn. Then looked at me to make sure I was not laughing. I pressed my lips together.
Maybe it's just me but what do you expect when you are trying to talk to a child and the television is on. Ten times out of ten the child will find what's on that tube just a little bit more appealing. I'm just sayin'.
So we discuss the quiz. I reiterate how important academics are. Then find a note from her teacher. There is a piece of notebook paper attached to it. She was caught writing a note during instructional time.
I was nervous about opening the note. For a minute my mind drifted back to my days of writing notes. And I knew a lot more than our kids do, back then, so I relaxed.
The note was about a party she and her brother were having on Halloween. She advised the friend to bring her parents since we had not met them yet, so we could "disgust" what we needed to "disgust". The note had a time to come and activities as well.
There was one problem with that note, other than the fact that she shouldn't have been writing it; Dude and I had no clue she and her brother were having a party.
"Hey! How are you gonna have a party without asking the people in charge? The people who pay the mortgage and other bills here?" I asked her.
Our son raised his hand and asked, "Who pay the what?"
"Don't worry about it! You are missing the point!" I yelled. "You have to get permission to have a party," I added.
His hand went up again.
"Put your hand down! Tryin' to be funny! You don't ever raise your hand around here for anything else!"
She looked so sad. Someone else may have felt sorry for her. But I know her and I'd seen this look myriad times. I didn't feel sorry at all.
Later, last night, after dozing for a few minutes, I woke to the sounds of a show on Nickelodeon. As I stretched and sat up our son asked, "Mama. Can you bend down yet?"
Not thinking about the last time he stayed home from church to supposedly, help me out after my surgery, I told him no. "It's still a little hard for me to do that right now."
Without a word he pushed the remote under the sofa chair. He then sat back on the chair with his hands behind his head and watched one of their shows.

Mamas Ain't Responsible for Everything

2009-09-22T05:16:00.000-07:00

"Mama. What did you do to me while I was in your stomach?" our son asked out of the blue.
"What do you mean? I read to you and took care of myself which means I took care of you," I really didn't know what he was getting at.
When folks say kids say the darndest things- they are right.
"You just thought about yourself when you were pregnated?" his voice went up.
"I really don't know how else to answer your question and why you are asking this," I told him as I began to walk to the kitchen.
"You must have done something to me when I was in your stomach to make me afraid of the Chick-fil-A cow," he said.
So this was where this was going.
I was beginning to feel like I was on the stand and he was the prosecutor.
"I didn't make you afraid of the Chick-fil-A cow or Santa or Chuck-E-Cheese- anyone in a costume," I told him.
His sister was laughing hysterically.
He peered over at her- I was hoping his attention would shift to her so I would be off the hook.
"And you musta did something to her (pointing at his sister) to make her mouth-" he began before I cut him off.
"Look! People are just afraid of some things in life but I didn't do anything to you while you were in my stomach."
I realized there was nothing I could really say to convince him that it was not my fault.
"Mama what did you eat when you were pregnated with me then?"
"She ate healthy foods nitwit!" his sister jumped in.
I warned her about the name calling. Then warned him to watch his mouth as I noticed his nostrils flaring at her.
"Well I probably got afraid of the cow because when you were little you were afraid of Scooby Doo," he stated.
Now he and his sister were both laughing hysterically.
I stopped what I was doing. That was hitting below the belt. And how did he know about that?
I noticed Dude trying to smother a smile.

Helping Mama

2009-09-21T05:20:00.000-07:00

Recently I had outpatient surgery. I can't lift anything for six weeks and need to take it easy. Daddy has been a great help to me- staying home with me for the first week and waiting on me 24/7. The kids are usually a little helpful as well. The know that they can't sit on my lap and I think they are cognizant that I can't do a whole lot temporarily.
Well our little six-year-old little joy offered to stay home with me Sunday and opted out of going to church. We knew that our daughter would open up the flood gate of tears had we suggested she stay home to help me, so we didn't bother.
"I'll take care of mama!" our son gleefully offered.
"Okay Daddy's little man. You gotta make sure you help Mama but we won't be gone long," Daddy told him. "Hold down the fort 'till we get back," Daddy added while patting our son on top of his head.
"What's a fort?" our son asked.
"The house. Take care of the house," I answered. I felt like the two police officers on Sanford and Son.
Daddy made sure I didn't need anything before he and our daughter were in route for church.
I reclined my chair a bit and put the remote on the arm of the chair.
I must have dozed for five seconds when I noticed the remote gone. Next thing I knew the television switched from CNN to "Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? SpongeBob Squarepants..."
Our son is sitting at the far end of the couch across from me with his legs crossed and the remote on the arm of the couch.
"Now I don't want to watch kids' shows all day- let me get the remote."
"Mama. You know you need to get some rest so I can take care of you," our son suggested.
He didn't seem phased by me struggling to sit up. Keyword being struggling. I guess he knew that I had been in that recliner for the most part, post surgery and was taking full advantage of that.
"Mama. Do you need your medicine?" he asked.
For a minute I thought surely he wouldn't... not over control of the television. Surely not.
"No I don't need any medicine right now. Thanks anyway."
Guess he also picked up on the fact that I usually sleep once I take medicine.
He wasn't planning to help me. He had used me to stay home to watch his shows.
This was just sad.
Yet he forgets that this down time is only temporary. So I will have the last laugh soon enough.
For the next hour I watched this little, yellow sponge talk while glancing over at the little six-year-old with his ankles crossed while stretching his toes.

Pocketbooks and Willys!

2009-09-07T19:34:00.000-07:00

"Mama. Do girls have a hiney?" our son asked.
"Yes they do- we all do," I answered.
He seemed so confused. He headed back upstairs, then abruptly turned around.
"But I thought girls had a vagina?"
Dude almost fell to come out of the bedroom now.
"What is all this 'bout hineys and things?" he came in with volume.
He still can't be a big boy about calling body parts their names. He still refers to vaginas as pocket books and penis as privates or Willys. But I don't wanna free Willy!
I motioned with my hand for him (Dude) to bring the volume down.
"It's okay," I told him with a slight smile.
"Girls do have vaginas and boys have a penis," I told our son.
Dude was about to pass out. And he teaches Health!
"I have a penis?" our son asked.
"Yes. You use it every time you go pay your water bill," I giggled. "Every time you pee," I added.
Pointing to his penis, he said, "This is my hiney."
I now understood the confusion.
"No baby that is your penis and your bottom or butt is also called a hiney."
His sister came bopping down.
"I told you!" she laughed.
"Your sister is a female and she does not have a penis like you but she has a hiney."
He laughed so hard, then pointed to his sister.
"Mama called you a female!"
We have some work to do.

Second Week of School

2009-09-07T18:59:00.000-07:00

This is the first year our two have had to ride the bus to school. I'll have to admit- I did not want them to ride the bus. And I rode the bus throughout my years of public education. From kindergarten to my junior year of high school. I must not have liked being picked up for daycare though. I got the worst spanking once.
I told the van driver, "My mama said not to pick me up anymore."
Believe it or not I vividly remember smiling in the window, pretending to wait for the van one morning. My mom was pacing, trying to figure out why the driver was so late coming to get me. She was late for work. Poor me. I had to stay home with my grandmother! When my mom found out, I got a spanking but the driver got a lashing for believing a child. I mean come on... he should have gotten the spanking!
Back to our two.
Well the second week there was a problem on the bus. A fifth grader was "not being nice" to them on the bus.
"Mama, he said a bad word," our daughter began to tell me at dinner that evening.
"What did he say," I said between bites.
"He said the S word!" our son answered.
I almost sprayed Dude with my drink. I wasn't prepared for that.
"What in the world did he say?" I asked.
I noticed Dude wasn't getting upset. He'd heard the story when he picked them up from school.
He discretely shook his head.
"He said stupid and the other kids said it was not a bad word," our daughter said.
I had to remember that there are different rules in other households. Besides at their age, when I was growing up, I, unfortunately, probably knew the real S word.
They continued to tell me how the kid was upset about losing his puppy and how he was punching the back of their seat.
"Mama I tried to be nice to him and I told him I was sorry he lost his puppy," our compassionate little girl told us.
We could tell, from her expressions, that she was reliving this experience as she told it to me. Tears were welling up that quick!
"Okay, Hannah NOT Tanna, cut the dramatics!" I quickly told her. You have to with her or she will drag it out. We love her but gee. We say it so much that her younger brother gets in on it.
"Yeah. None of that over-the -top stuff," our son tells her.
"We got it," I stop him. "Let us be the parents okay?
While picking over his food and with great confidence, our little first-grader adds, "I was gonna get that boy Mama."
I heard Dude chuckle a bit.
I just smiled at him.
Our daughter was the first to respond.
"That boy was big and he is a fifth grader!" she said. "You couldn't get him!"
Her brother finished what he was chewing, squinted his eyes and slowly turned to her and said, "You are so naive." Then went back to eating.
I didn't know where he heard the word and was quite shocked that he used it in the right context.
I mean a six-year-old using this word. I had to get him.
"Spell naive since you want to use it!" I told him.
He wiped his mouth and said, "Mama. You don't know how to spell naive?" He seemed so shocked.
We laughed a little then his sister fired back with a good point.
"Well how you gone get that fifth grader when you are afraid of the Chick-fil-a cow?"

First Day Back For All

2009-08-25T19:24:00.000-07:00

Today was the first day back to school!
It was the first day of third grade for our daughter, first day of first grade for our son, first day of teaching ESL at a new school for me and just the first day back for Daddy!
It was a stress-free day for me. I helped to prepare folders for the myriad new kindergarten students at my new school. Then looked through old files and moved some old files on. I have a lot to look forward to and a great deal to learn about this new area of teaching.
Our school theme is "Wild About the Creek!" The name of our school is Spring Creek Elementary. Perfect theme for me! I can surely get wild about things. We shall see how wild this year gets.
Of course I thought about the two little ones throughout the day. Couldn't wait to see them after school to see how their day went. Oh and Daddy too!
"Mama. The teacher said no tattling!" our son firmly told me just before dinner.
"Okay but there is a difference between tattling and telling, " I told him. "You have to tell if someone hits you or hurts you but you don't need to tell if you see someone with a toy in class or something like that."
"But what if it is a toy that can hurt ya?" he asked.
I was not about to go into these "what ifs" scenarios with him because he can drag them out.
"You know what I mean okay!" I told him.
"Mama do you know who is in my class?" our daughter began.
"I sure don't- who?" I asked.
She began her list. I just pretended to know them all.
"Really? They are in your class?" I entertained.
"Oh and Mama... you know that boy you tutored after-school last time?" she asked. "Well he said his mom misses you working with him."
"Oh okay. Wait- how did you see him?"
She didn't immediately respond.
"Well... I kinda saw him on the bus," she answered.
"But you don't ride the bus," I began to worry.
"I thought we were supposed to ride the bus so I got on the bus," she smiled. Knowing full well that I am about to start swelling.
"And how would you know what bus to get on?"
Come to find out she did think she was supposed to get on the bus- and it didn't help that she and her brother want to ride the bus so badly.
Luckily she got off the bus and Daddy was there to pick her and her brother up.
My heart rate went back down. But I am sure there were mix-ups all over the country with the first day back to school.
One day down... 179 more to go!

A Simple Subject for a Six-Year-Old

2009-08-10T21:32:00.000-07:00

Daddy and I are just not great at having "serious" discussions with our kids. We have good intentions... believe me. But then that youngest one comes in.
We have started threatening our two about all this bickering they have been doing. I mean they have started hitting one another. When we no longer hear them having "heated fellowship" and we have not intervened yet, then some pushing is going on or hitting. It's like this is their last straw. And ten times out of ten we usually throw in a "when I was little..." when we fuss at them.
They were supposed to be cleaning their rooms yesterday. Then we heard them start up.
This was the second time in the last week so the Cosby family approach (being rational and calm) was out the window.
"LOOK! Y'all can't keep this up! Not in this house!" I told them.
Then my co-signer came in.
"That's right! You can't do that mess in here!" Daddy added.
They both tried to jump in to tell their sides.
"Nope. Both of you close your mouths!" I said.
"When I was a little girl, me and my brothers were not allowed to do this. We got our tails whipped if we would fight."
They were in disbelief.
I reassured them that, "Oh yes- your grandma and papa didn't play around back then. Don't let them two fool ya."
We let them take that thought in for a minute. Guess that was a little hard to digest since my parents are totally different with them. I don't think they have ever much popped them. It is sickening. The kids probably think we are making things up. Wish we could have recorded some of those beat down- drag downs.
"She's talkin' about back in da day," our son told his sister.
They think that we are so old. It could be something we did last year and it is "back in da day" for him.
"We keep telling you that you have to stick together and have each other's back. Can't be fighting each other," Daddy scolded them.
He was trying to take it in and really have them thinking with his next point.
"Now if, God forbid, something happens to (pointing at me) Mama and me, who would be left?"
Our sweet little eight-year-old, with a tear building up in her eye, pressed her lips together and pointed to her brother and her self.
Then her recently, turned six-year-old brother said, "You mean if y'all died? Then we would (laying back with his arms behind his head and now crossing his feet) go live with granmapapa."
He says their names together as if they are one entity.
No compassion for his parents. No worries. It was as simple as that.
"But you could get to go to heaven if you be nice to yo kids," he reassured us.

A Sign That I May Be Losing It!

2009-08-07T20:35:00.000-07:00

Lately I have been so busy and school is not back in yet. I mean it's not as if I am not used to being busy but today I got a wake up call! A sign to let me know to slow down, take the S off my chest and cape off as well and just chill!
So I'm doing laundry, dusting, and trying to sit down at the computer every now and again to finish some homework. I keep a check on the time because I needed to be somewhere with the kids soon. Well they are dressed and actually sitting quietly in the living room. Seeing this makes me feel like I am really behind- even though the clock says I have time.
I run to jump in the shower, grabbing undies out of the stack of laundry on the way.
Minutes later I am out, drying off then rushing to put my undies on.
I hear a rip. I attempt to pull them up again. This time I don't hear a rip but they won't go up.
Okay at this point I am losing it. It's like a silent movie. I can't be heard but someone watching could clearly make out what I was saying, "OH MY GOD, NO!!"
Did they shrink that much in the dryer? Some say not to dry your undies.
I knew what it was... I needed to lose some weight.
I stood there in disbelief. Then sat down to take it all in.
As my heart rate went down and the sweating started to dissipate, the rational side stepped back in.
I looked at the green, sherbet-colored undies. I saw Little Mermaid. She seemed to be laughing at me. This was a sign that I may be losing it.

Freeze Pops and Cookie Dough

2009-08-03T20:56:00.000-07:00

Usually when our son comes up smiling and saying, "Mama... can I tell you sumptin'?"
He really wants to ask me something. And ten times out of ten it is something he knows I will probably say no to. But my hat goes off to him for his approach.
Well he loves freeze pops and his sister loves cookie dough. I've often told them that they were going to turn into a freeze pop and cookie dough. They like the idea very much.
"I know you really don't want to tell me something- you want to ask me something so out with it," I told him.
"Well, we want to know if we can have a freeze pop and cookie dough?"
So he was designated as the spokesperson. Usually people do send in the smaller one to do the asking or the dirty work.
He kept looking toward the hallway. I already knew his sister was around one of those corners listening.
"Have you already had a freeze pop and cookie dough?"
Whenever he begins with "well" I know the answer.
"Well," he began. By this time he is not making eye contact. "I think she (pointing out at the hallway) had one cookie dough and I had a little freeze pop."
How can you have a little freeze pop?
"Ummm... no. Not this time," I told him.
He walked away slowly with his head down.
"Keep your head up Buddy!" I told him with a smile.
I could hear his sister waiting in the wings.
"I told you that you shoulda waited 'till she was on the computer or you shoulda just asked Daddy," she tried to whisper to him.
"But Daddy is asweep."
"Duh! I know that!"she told him.
About five minutes later he was back. This time alone. He had come up with his own idea.
"Mama. You gone let the devil win!"
These were new skills.
"What?" I asked him.
"The devil is tempting me to eat some freeze pops."
Oh the look was serious. He had his game face on.
"No. If you give into that temptation then you will lose and it will be you gettin' a spankin' not the devil. He will leave you short every time Buddy."
"Okay. I'm gone pway about it then."
He didn't come back.

The Brown Sack

2009-08-01T20:02:00.000-07:00

Daddy has done a great job of recording the kids over the past eight years. We were not able to record our daughter's intro into the world but he did begin recording her soon after that. I wished someone had recorded it so he could be seen and heard saying,
"Man! It looks like they are hooking up cable!" When they were finally giving me an epidural. And you could see me rolling my eyes at him. He was so excited by that for some reason.
Well as I said, the kids were watching it for the umpteenth time while we were busy doing other things (NO! Not that). So they kept coming to us asking questions about things in the video. Most of the time we, of course, just smiled and patiently answered their questions. But every parent gets a question from their child that they aren't prepared for.
So they are watching and get to our son's birth. This recording is long and somewhat hilarious now- it wasn't when I was in labor six years ago though. Then my epidural did not work so I was on EDGE! I didn't want to be on video and you could tell at a certain point in the video because Daddy was several feel away. He was narrating but it was a whisper. He didn't want to wake the dragon. But I mean come on, I had been in labor more than ten hours and just a little note- our son was nine pounds and eleven ounces. Did I mention my epidural did not work?
So I am in the bed acting like Sybil while Daddy- Dude was laughing with the midwive and other staff. He had let his beard grow out too and if you can picture this: he has a bushy, beard and he is wearing those scrubs- not over his face but over his bald head (the loose fitting cap). He looked like he was part of the Taliban actually.
So I heard the part of the video where our son make his intro- crying of course. Then I heard the kids talking but I really wasn't focused enough to hear what they were discussing. Then I hear little feet. Our son comes running in to ask me, "Mama! What was the brown sack that was on me after they cut me from you?"
I'm thinking, "What is he talkin' about?"
Then I hear snickering from Dude.
"You know Mama that brown sack on me by my privates." He began to walk back into the living room and told me to come see.
Well I figure out what he was talking about but I didn't want to deal with it. It was a teachable moment I know but I figured I would get back to it later.
"Did she (referring to his sister) have a big sack like that when she was boring?" he added.
I lost my breath for a minute.
"It's borN not boring," I told him. That's all I said at that moment. Left it for another conversation... later.

Things That Make Me Lose My Mind!

2009-07-10T12:53:00.000-07:00

So... the kids and I were on our way back home from my parents' house Wednesday when my six-year-old says what you don't want to hear on the highway,
"Mama. I gotta go to the bathroom."
"Great. He has to go to the bathroom." I sigh to my friend on my cell phone.
Before I could tell her I would have to call her back, he adds to it.
"I gotta do number two and I gotta do it bad!"
There was complete urgency in his voice and body language and anxiety with a little dab of frustration in mine.
"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT WAITING 'TILL THE LAST MINUTE TO TELL ME?"
I could hear a smothered laugh on the other end of my phone.
"Mama! I gotta go really bad!"
My daughter was calm but loudly slurping on a straw. At this point I was so stressed I wanted to toss her, the Chick-Fil-A cup, and her brother, who was now holding his bottom as if he would be able to stop the flow, out on the middle of the highway.
So I am going a little bit faster, trying to find an exit, while fussing him out and still holding the phone. I hear the laughter again. This time she is laughing so hard that it weaves in and out almost in syn with me and the other cars.
I finally found an exit with a store not far away.
"Hold on! I found a store!" I told my son.
I don't even remember putting the van in park or taking the keys out.
"You betta not peep a word of this to anyone!" I told my friend. "I'll talk to ya later!"
We ran in the store to the bathroom.
"Mama. This bathroom isn't real clean," my son said, looking all around.
"Okay but I am going to line it for you really good."
"Wook Mama," he said while pointing to the broken knob on the sink. "I don't like this bathroom."
"Well the people who work here ain't gonna like you coming in here and stinkin' it up either. Now do what you gotta do and come on!" I said while attempting to help him pull his pants down.
I felt my daughter tapping me. "Mama... what is in here?" she asked while trying to turn the knob on the Tampax machine.
"Don't worry about that. It's for women!"
"Can we get one?" she smiled.
"No! I said don't worry about that!"
I was about to lose my mind!
We were finally done.
The kids were about to pull the door open when I stopped them. I peeked out. What a relief to see that no one was waiting to use the bathroom.
I got a pack of gum on the way out. It was the least I could do after the bombs my son dropped in that bathroom.

Can Turtles Have Attitudes?

2009-07-05T23:11:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if our two pet turtles are trying to make a break for it, trying to commit turtlecide or what. Well first let me start by saying that since Michael Jackson's passing, the kids have renamed the turtles. No longer are they Myrtle and Skippity but Michael and Shirley. Not sure where Shirley came from but we will roll with it- I mean it's not like they know their names anyway.
I mean we feed them, the kids take them out for some time each week and we talk to them a lot. I feel like we are great owners- we consider them part of the family. So I am not sure what is going on in their little, now-you-see-me, now-you-don't, heads of theirs.
About two weeks ago, Daddy heard a thud and jumped out of bed to see what it was. One of them (heck the adults don't know them apart) had apparently climbed out from the little platform they bask on. He or she, fell in between the bookcase the aquarium is on and the wall. The turtle is lucky Daddy heard him and came to his rescue- otherwise it would have been chillin' in its little shell for some time. When Daddy put it back in the aquarium the darn thing had an attitude! Can you believe that? After dropping it back in the water it went all Chris Brown and started hitting at the other turtle. I'm sorry I don't know if they are cousins, sister and brother, common law mates or what. But I guess it had to take its frustrations out on something- surely couldn't be one of us... we feed them. So it continued its little aggression- taking it's little webbed feet and knocking rocks around. This would have been a good time to see that little bubble overhead and see what it was really thinking.
Well Sunday when we came in from church- guess we'd been gone for about three hours- I walk pass the aquarium, stop then take two steps back to take a closer look.
"Uhhh... call me crazy but it looks like there is only one turtle in there," I pointed out to my family.
The tanks not huge and we don't have caves or things for them to hide in yet.
The kids ran over to see. Daddy confidently went directly to the back of the bookcase.
Daddy was now baffled.
We all quietly and carefully walked around the room- in between the dining area and great room. Daddy spotted it first. Sitting in a corner, inside it's shell.
He picked it up gently.
"What are you doing out here? What are you doing- say?" Daddy said.
"Is it okay?" I asked.
Soon as he dropped it back in the water, it went off again! Swimming really fast, back-and-forth. Swatting at rocks. My eyes were almost crossed watching it go that fast. ATTITUDE!
I know turtles like to get out of the water for a little while each day to bask in the light or heat but those two are up there plotting.

Talking to Our Kids About Michael

2009-06-29T08:29:00.000-07:00

Since Michael's passing, I have been in this indescribable funk. "Mama, did you know him? Did you meet him?" one of my kids asked after seeing me tear up while we watched his video, Smooth Criminal, on YouTube. The thought of never having the privilege to meet him caused the tears to come a little stronger. I would now never get to see him. I'd always said he was the one star I would pay big money to see. Now, even if I won a huge lottery I would never get to see him.

I've seen his videos myriad times over the years and thankfully there are Cd's and videos to purchase. My kids have been watching his videos on YouTube and I guess now that will be our nexus to the King of Pop. Watching these videos with them online as well as seeing the videos on television- and I am sure this will go on for months- has allowed me to discover Michael all over again. I watch with appreciation. I see the perfectionist everyone has been talking about. I can see his musical influences like Fred Astaire, while watching Smooth Criminal. Seeing the influence of James Brown in his earlier videos when he performed with his brothers. The artistry, creativity and Broadway abilities in videos like Thriller, which revolutionized music videos and put Michael in the Guinness Book of World Records.

I talked to the kids about him being a philanthropist and how giving he was. He used his celebrity to shed light on problems around the world. I can refer them to videos like We Are the World, The Earth Song and more.

Of course television networks have flooded our screens with videos, discussions and shows about him since Thursday. TV One aired the movie The Jacksons: The American Dream, which debuted in 1992. Daddy and I watched it with our kids. It was their first time watching it but probably our 100th time. We would watch it differently now. Paying precise attention to Michael now in a different way. Interrupting many scenes to point out certain things to our kids- really wanting to submerge them in our world of Michael Jackson Mania. I wanted them to feel the way I feel about him!

"See! See how he sings and dances so well and he didn't have to be taught!" I stressed.

But they weren't as excited as I was- but they didn't grow up in my time.

Then came the scene when Michael's mother, Katherine Jackson, caught his father, Joe, on the phone with another woman. She then walked up on him while he was laid back on the phone. She began yelling and wailing on him!

"Why was she doing that?" our six-year-old son asked.

I looked over at Daddy to see if he wanted to take a stab at that one.

"Well... he (pointing at the screen) was not telling the truth about something. He wasn't doing what was right," Daddy told him.

"Yes, they were husband and wife- married so he was doing something he wasn't supposed to do," I added.

There was silence for about five seconds- we'd hoped it was enough to explain.

"Oh. I thought she did it because her husband was on the phone with another woman," our son nonchalantly replied.

Kids know more than we think.

There will be innumerable opportunities for our kids to see Michael Jackson over the next few days, weeks, months. And opportunities for those of us who grew up during his reign, to Remember the Time when he was Bad. So I assume there are many, like me, in a little funk right now. So I didn't have to meet him, yet I feel like I knew him. I wish I could just "look over my shoulder and "he will be there." I will shed a few more tears, but it is okay to cry... it is just Human Nature.

Memories of MJ

2009-06-27T06:59:00.000-07:00

On December 25th, 2006 the Godfather of Soul, James Brown passed on. Believe it or not, two other shining stars were lost on the same day but different months and years. Young star, Aaliyah died in a plane crash on August 25th, 2001- eight months later, April 25th, Lisa "Left Eye" Lopez from the all girl group, TLC died in a car wreck in Honduras. Then two days ago on June 25th the world lost one of the greatest entertainers... Michael Jackson. I was registering kids for the final night of our Vacation Bible School, when I received a text that he had a heart attack and was in "pretty bad shape."
I read it but immediately thought he would be fine- he had access to the best doctors. So I thought. Shortly after that I found out he was not coming back.
It didn't really sink in until yesterday- June 26th. Michael Jackson- who I watched growing up is really gone. So many things have run through my mind. The memories, what happened, did he know he was still loved, what about his family and close friends?
The memories: There are too many to write about. The first time I saw him. I can't remember the very first time- I just remember it was Michael Mania for many years growing up. The videos were some of the most vivid memories. Beat It, Billie Jean, Remember the Time, and the one most talked about... Thriller. Vincent Price's voice gave me chills.
I'll have to be honest, that video scared me. I could not watch it alone when it first came out. I remember being teased by older cousins about that. The Making of Thriller was just as popular as the actual video. It was a video that people never grew tired of. And that red jacket he wore in the video- everyone and their grandma had one. There was a guy at our church who had one just like it. His hair was styled like Michael's and he had the loafers and socks like him. When he came up to the balcony, where all the teens sat, on Sunday mornings- all eyes were on him. As the kids say now, "He was HOT!" And I am almost sure his name was Michael too!
Fast forward to the video Remember The Time! I think this video came out in the Spring of my sophomore year of college. It was an all-star cast! Magic Johnson, Eddie Murphy, Iman, and more. The choreography was so sweet! I could never just watch the video- I had to TRY to do the moves with them. Michael moved like no other in that video and all of his videos.
I cried when he had the accident during the Pepsi commercial. I was on the phone with friends talking about it for days. And I actually begged my mom for a Jheri Curl back then. Well after that mishap I knew, if my mom had considered it, she had changed her mind after that incident.
When MJ showed us the moonwalk during Motown 25.... the world went nuts! It was to be talked about for years. And while others have tried to do it, no one could ever do it as well as him.
Michael was different. He did reinvent the wheel! He seemed to be such a perfectionist. He mastered his craft. He entertained us so much and so well. There is no one like him. He would always say he loved us and I believe he did. That is why it was sad to see how some of the world treated him in the last decade or so. Making a mockery of his looks and behavior.
I think he was a troubled person. He never had a chance to be a child- well not for long. I believe he and his siblings did have a tough upbringing but they also had love from their parents.
I read that he had been having a lot of pain. I think most of his pain was emotional more than physical. The financial struggles I read about were sad. This man who gave myriad times- not just his time to entertain us but he gave financially and shed light on problems such as the poverty in Africa. He did all that and as he grew older and needed help himself, he didn't get it. Now that he has died he gets his flowers and messages of love. I just hope he knew he was still loved. Many close to him say he was troubled and sad. I hope he is at peace now.
I feel sorry for the generations who did not get a chance to see him. I feel blessed to have been able to see him- to have grown up during his time. I saw a message from someone go across the screen while watching some of the many tributes last night. "It was not his time to Beat It!" It read. How do we know that? I do know he will be missed... he was a Thriller!

Boobies, Bookinis and Brows!

2009-06-19T06:55:00.000-07:00

I realize it's hot outside and I know you cannot leave your children or pets in your car, but I'd rather take Fido or Cujo in with me instead of my kids!
If you have been keeping up with my blog posts you understand what I have been through with my two- the comedy fests they have when I change with them in the fitting rooms or the random conversations they have while browsing through clothes. I'm not saying that kids should be left in the car but I understand.
I contemplated going into the fitting room this time with them- I really did. I held the outfit up in front of me. I looked at it then looked at my kids. They were being silly as usual- oblivious to what I was thinking about. I thought long and hard. Should I quickly move to the fitting room and just threaten them with their little lives if they make any comments about my body or just take a chance that it would fit and head to the register? Decisions, decisions.
I decided on the first option.
"Hey how are you? Just two please," I smiled at the fitting room attendant.
She handed me a number two and led me to an open room.
"Here you go. You can have this room!" she smiled, leading me to the first room- closest to her.
My heart began to beat faster. My paranoia quickly kicked in. Had she heard the chaos and comments from my little family before? I do come to this store quite a bit. Why did she put us in this room? Why not the one waaaaaaaay in the back- the last one? That way I could continue threatening them and perhaps even physically. I could hang the first one to make a comment, on one of those hooks.
Nevermind.
I was smart. I distracted them by talking to them about our vacation time coming up next month, while I quickly changed.
"You ready for our trip in a few weeks?" I asked them- snatching my shirt over my head.
"Oh I'm ready!" my son started dancing.
"Me too! I can't wait to get on the rides!" my daughter added.
It was working!
They continued talking about it and I allowed them to interrupt one another- just as long as the attention was taken off of me.
I was so glad because I could hear more people coming into the fitting room to try on clothes as well.
The outfit didn't work for me. I needed an extra medium. ;o)
Out of breath, I quickly took the outfit off to put my clothes back on.
"Give me my shirt right over there," I pointed for my daughter.
Their conversation now came to a frightening halt.
Instead of just giving me my shirt she put her hands over her mouth and with eyes stretching as if she had never seen me in my undergarments, she pointed to my bra and said to her brother,
"Look at her bookini!"
They both began laughing.
I rolled my eyes and snatched my shirt.
"Just be quiet!" I said with my teeth clenched together tightly. "And it is not a bIkini- it's a bra!" I added.
They couldn't hear me over their laughter.
My son stopped laughing and had the 'mama you may want to put your hand over my mouth right now' look.
"Ewww! She used to feed us milk from her brows," he said and it was not with his inside voice.
I just closed my eyes and thought of the show I Dream of Jeannie. Wishing I could fold my arms- blink and be in my car.
I stood there with my finger over my lips and listened to see if anyone heard it. I was not ready to leave. The comment was too fresh.
When I finally turned to look out of the fitting room, they continued to talk about it.
"Have you seen mama's boobies?" my daughter asked, then put her hands over her mouth.
"I have! They gots brown cir-" he started before I put my hands over his mouth.
After a minute or so of me hiding out in the fitting room, I finally stepped out, playing with my cell phone so I would not have to look up at the attendant.
"Did that work for you ma'am?"she asked.
Without looking up at her I told her, "No. Not this time, but thanks." I continued to be engaged with my cell phone.
As we headed for the door, someone looked at my daughter and said, "She's so pretty and her hair is beautiful!"
I'd just roller set it and styled it the day before.
"Thank you!" I replied.
"Mama. She wasn't talking about you- she was talking about me!" my daughter smiled.
The lady giggled and winked her eye.
"They are so cute," she added.
"You want 'em?" I thought.

Finding Teachable Moments

2009-06-15T05:38:00.000-07:00

We try to take advantage of "teachable moments" when they arise. Sometimes we hit and sometimes... I just get frustrated with all the questions, from our two little ones that I just throw my hands up and say, "Just forget it! Maybe I will go back to that one later!"
I'm now cognizant that I really have to be patient and stick to those lessons surrounding biblical issues. We are definitely raising them up in the way they should go but sometimes they get things a little twisted. Now our daughter is sharp enough to use what she learns in church at an appropriate time to bail her out of trouble.
The Genesis of these stories began with our daughter's kindergarten year.
Her teacher began reprimanding her for playing in the mulch after warning the class not to.
"That darn serpent!" she told her teacher.
She was serious! She folded her arms and stomped her feet. She wouldn't make eye contact with her teacher initially. She began talking to herself- shaking her head so much that her two, long ponytails were moving side-to-side.
"What are you talking about?" her teacher asked.
Slapping her forehead with the palm of her hand she responded, "The serpent made me play in that mulch!"
"What serpent?" her teacher asked.
She now made eye contact- she now had her teacher roped.
"You know that serpent who made Eve eat that apple!"
Well her brother, God bless his little soul, either gets things all confused or he may get it but does not want to apply what he learns. He wants to pick and choose what he wants to live by.
He and his sister have racked up with money from their birthdays here recently. He wants to spend it as soon as he gets his but I have made him save it. I mean he can't spend it if we don't take him anywhere to spend it.
So he has been saving it but Lord knows he has been asking for someone to take him to a store to spend it.
I have explained myriad times about tithing. Well it is usually a huge question and answer period with him. Yesterday as we prepared for church I told him that he needed to put some money in church. As we pulled out of the parking lot after church, I asked him if he put any money in offering in his class.
He didn't say anything.
I turned to look at him and his lips were pressed together as if he were keeping a secret- which he is not good at.
This begins our conversation. Which we have had before.
"Now I have told you that when you give it comes back to you."
"But I need my money to get that ATM machine from TJ Maxx," he whined.
"But God blessed you with that money so you can give some of it back in church," I told him.
"Huh? (Looking at his money) Grandma, Papa gave me this money and I got one of these dollars from her (pointing at his sister) room," he replied.
"WHAT? You give it back!" his sister shouted.
I further explained the process of giving and he listened, then looking back at his face I realized he would need more work to be a "cheerful" giver.
We went on to eat. When we left our tip for the server I saw him eyeing the money. Another "teachable" moment.
"Now see Mommy and Daddy are giving and it comes back to us," I told him.
"Daddy gone give her all that money?" he asked.
"Yes! And don't even think about getting any of it!"
On the way out of the restaurant we bumped into our pastor and his family. He always asks our two for hugs. Our son just recently starting complying and the pastor eats this up. He (pastor) gave them both a dollar bill.
When we got in the car our daughter, the appreciative little Saint she is, said, "Look! Pastor Bill gave us some money. I'm gonna save it with my other money!"
Then her brother with dread on his face said, "He probably gave it to us to put in offering."

God Moving Furniture

2009-06-13T06:45:00.001-07:00

If you listen to kids you can always learn something new! Last night we were pulling out of the driveway when we saw this beautiful display of lightning, flashing through the sky. It wasn't accompanied by any thunder or rain- just light, back-to-back. It looked like someone in heaven was snapping pictures.
The kids loved it of course! They had to give us their take on what lightning means.
Our daughter said it was King Neptune, making light from his fingers.
"Mama there really is a King Neptune- we learned about it in class," she persisted.
Now when our kids say their teacher said something, we usually leave it alone. Don't want one of them going back saying we said something. That has happened before. Wasn't good. Our son told his daycare teacher that I was going to "Jack her up!" I did say that I was going to "Jack somebody up" if they messed with my baby at school but I was being funny and talking to Daddy.
Now it was our son's turn. I knew it would be interesting. Daddy and I were talking about something else when our son chimed in. But his comment got our attention.
"No it's not King Neptoom. It's just God moving his couch up there," he said.
We smiled.
"Who told you that?" I asked.
"My teacher- Mrs. Thompson," he said confidently.
The van was quiet.

They Grow Up Fast!

2009-06-11T19:26:00.000-07:00

Another school year has flew by! Our two little ones are getting older. Growing taller.
Our daughter just finished second grade, while her brother finished kindergarten. Where does the time go?
Yes he graduated from kindergarten yesterday! It was bitter sweet for me. I watched him sleep for a few minutes before waking him up to get dressed. He still sleeps the same way- on his back with his mouth slightly opened. His arms are always up over his head. Same cute, little toes I used to kiss on, especially right after his bath. As I continued to watch him I thought about how quiet he used to be. But he always watched his sister- taking it all in I guess.
I woke him gently just before a tear rolled down my face.
"Last day buddy! Let's get up and wash your face!" I told him.
Daddy dressed him so cute: Carolina blue and white vest with his khaki pants.
So many people commented on how cute he looked in his outfit.
"I like what you are wearing. You look really nice!" one teacher told him.
He flared his nostrils and instead of just thanking her he replied,
"My mama made me wear this."
I did say that he USED to be quiet.

Clearing the Confusion

2009-06-09T13:15:00.000-07:00

Our two kids get things confused all the time. They think that things that apply to them and how they respond to us, also applies with them and other kids. I know it sounds confusing but I will explain...
They know that they canNOT be sassy with adults or talk back, in any way to adults. Well they think that applies to each other. Our son is the worst for it. He was being bossy with his sister and she, understandably, told him, "You're not the boss of me! You don't tell me what to do!"
You should have seen the look on his face. He really couldn't believe it and thought I was going to do something about it.
"Mama! Did you hear your daughter talkin' back to me?" he shouted.
Once I stopped laughing and chocking, I explained that there was no such thing with his sister- that it did not apply to her. He was disappointed to say the least, but I didn't realize until a few minutes later who he was really disappointed with when he referred to me as his daddy's wife.

The Burning Bush

2009-06-07T07:58:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Dude was doing some yard work with our son... well I guess our son was just out there with him. He would run in and out giving my daughter and I updates about what was going on outside.
"Mama! Daddy is out there talking to our navel," he told us one time. "It's okay. He can talk to him. We should get to know our new neighbor," I assured him.
"Well he can't do nothin' if he talking to him," he came back.
He had a point. We all know women are much better at multi-tasking than men but I told our son he (Dude) would be okay.
"You just go outside and keep an eye out on him," I winked.
He ran back outside. I looked out the door and secretly gave him a thumbs up to encourage him. He nodded back.
About 15 minutes later he came in coughing (over-the-top), and waving his hand in front of his face.
"Look at that steam out there!" my daughter commented, looking out the door.
"Mama. You see that smoke out there?" my son asked. "Well that's Daddy out there with the navel burning down that bush!"
Dude had done that last summer but I guess he didn't burn it enough. The bush becomes a headache sometimes when the wind blows- leaving its long remnants across our yards.
Our daughter the philosopher chimed in.
"Oh! You know what Daddy is like Moses. Although he doesn't seem to be talking to the bush."
I thought that was the end of that until we were preparing to say our prayers for bed. Then our son out of the blue- five hours later said,
"Mama. Daddy going to hell for burning that bush ain't he?"

Another TooF Story!

2009-06-04T18:15:00.000-07:00

Our baby lost his first tooth! Thank God it was on the bottom! I just can't picture him without teeth at the top. I know it is coming but I am not ready for it. This look will only remind me that he is not my baby anymore. And he knows this too. When he heard me telling a friend that I didn't want him to lose his teeth yet, he asked, "Why mama? Because you don't want me to grow up?"
I just smiled.
But that tooth had been loose for a few days and he has been excited about it coming out for two reasons: his friends at school have lost a tooth or two and he wants to get a visit from the famous tooth fairy!
Well if you have read my old blogs when our daughter lost teeth... you know that Daddy and I have not done well with the whole tooth fairy thing.
While he wants the tooth to be out, he, like many other kids, runs when we ask to feel how loose the tooth is.
"No! Don't touch it. You're gonna pull it out!"
Well he actually suggested that we pull it out while he is asleep. Not a bad idea considering he sleeps on his back, arms sprawled above his head and mouth open. Well Daddy tried one night but he closed his mouth, and rolled over to his stomach. There went that idea.
He suggested something else-
"Mama. Maybe Daddy could tie a sWing around my tooF (demonstrating) then tie the sWing to the door, then sWam the door and my tooth will come out!"
Picture him letting us do that.
Well yesterday he asked for some celery for breakfast.
"You would wait 'till the last minute- right before we need to leave for school to ask for something to eat!" I fussed while rushing to fix it. Then continued fussing when I noticed the Ranch dressing stain on his shirt on the way out the door. I was already late so...
"Look at that! Uh! Well you are in kindergarten and you probably would have gotten something on it anyway so you gonna have to go like you are today Buddy!" I said as I pulled him out the door.
About an hour into the school day, one of his teachers came into my room and asked about his tooth. She thought I pulled it.
"I didn't pull it and (thinking) neither did his daddy," I told her. "Are you sure it's gone?" I asked her.
She went to get him.
"Mama did you pull my tooF Wast night?"
I looked and sure enough it was gone. I sent a text to Daddy. He didn't do it.
It had to have been the celery or it had come out in the night.
"But how is the tooF fairy gonna come?" he asked. He dropped his head.
His teacher suggested we get it once he went to the bathroom. Then she took him by the hand and went back to class. She sound like a dog up a tree- butt backwards! Just as wrong. I don't care if he is my child. It was not happening.
But Daddy and I had to do something.
He had another tooth. He had actually saved one of our daughter's teeth. Not something I would have done but we had one. But would it work on our little inquisitive son?
Daddy told him he found it near the chair he sat in when he ate breakfast. Initially he smiled then investigated.
"Mama (frowning) this tooF gots a hole in it and it looks sharp," he said.
"Well you have a hole where that tooth was," I told him. "Now go put it under your pillow and say your prayers," I convinced him.
"Okay! I hope the tooF fairy bring me lots of dollars!"
Well as we, the dysfunctional parents, usually do- we almost forgot to put the money under there. We argued over who would walk upstairs to put the dollar under the pillow before going to sleep last night.
This Dude wanted to wait until the morning to put it under there. Right before we woke them up for school. Now with our record with the other child, I knew we couldn't wait. So I had an idea-
"Um... I don't feel like walking up there and I may not feel like doing anything else later!"
So he put it under the pillow and everything happened as it should have.
This morning he came running downstairs to show me his first dollar from the tooth- I mean tooF fairy!

The Root Beer Mystery

2009-06-02T19:25:00.000-07:00

Cleaning out the refrigerator- my husband grabs, what looks like a liter of Root Beer soda from the second shelf. I was just about to say that I was so surprised that it had lasted that long. The liter was placed in the fridge, lying down instead of standing up- where its contents would have been more visible, when opening the fridge.
Now I usually will allow the kids to have a cup or so of Root Beer every now and again since it is caffeine-free. I realized, after seeing that it was empty, that they had not asked much, for any.
Yes, Daddy grabbed it and it was empty. One of our two offspring was slick enough to put it back in the fridge in a way that we could not tell that it was all gone.
Trick was to find out who did it.
I figured I could just call them in and ask them or wait until we said our prayers before going to bed. Oh they usually rat each other out during this time.
I didn't feel like having fun so I just called them in.
"What's up?" I smiled at both of them.
"Oh, Mama is talkin' cool talk again," our daughter smiled.
Daddy pulled the empty liter of Root Beer out of the trash bag. He just held it up a few inches from the faces and shook it. He didn't say a word.
Now our daughter's reaction was a little unclear. Could have been ready to sing or ready to philosophy as she usually does. I was ready to cut her off early though if she tried.
Our son, the recent six-year-old, was a little perplexed. I couldn't get a good read on him yet.
"Someone put this back in the fridge empty," I told them.
Again I thought it was a pretty slick move. One I would have done back in my day. Well I probably would have just said I spilled all of the contents and threw the container away. But back to them...
"Mama do you mean the refrigerator?" the philosopher questioned.
Rolling my eyes I replied, "It's the same thang!"
Guess I told her.
"Is the person who did that gonna be in trouble?" our son asked, not able to look at us.
DING, DING, DING! We had our culprit!

How Kids Learn Bad Language

2009-05-31T21:19:00.000-07:00

We were flipping through channels, when we came up on an old comedy- Life! Starring Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence. It was actually an all star cast! Well being that it was during the day and on regular television and not cable we really didn't think much about watching a little bit of it in front of our son. We just didn't think. Have I said that already?
Well when we tuned in it was right after the prisoners were loud from laughing about Ray's (Eddie Murphy) descriptive story of Ray's Boom-Boom room back in Harlem. Then the guard comes in with his lantern, and tells them to get quiet- well he actually tells them to, "Shut their mouths!" Then he turns to walk away and one prisoner (Anthony Andersen) passes gas. Well had we remembered we would have turned it then. Well if you know the movie you know what happens next.
The guard turns to respond to this passing of gas and says, "Shut your mouth and your fat a##!" (This is a family blog)
As soon as he said it, our laughs halt, Daddy flips the channel and our son laughs and repeats what he (guard) said- all in that quick moment.
Daddy and I exchanged a quick glare. We didn't respond immediately.
"Hey, I was watching that!" our just recently turned, six-year-old son said.
Daddy and I looked at each other to see who was going to respond first.
"You can't say that. That is a bad word," Daddy told him.
He was confused.
"What's a bad word Daddy?" he asked.
"What that man just said. Then you said too," I told him.
He sat and processed it.
"You can't say everything you hear someone else say. This is why we don't like for you to watch so much television and especially adult shows."
We should have gone over it a littel bit more.
A day later (Sunday of all days), we are eating at the table and he repeats it.
He and his sister are doing what they do best- teasing each other.
Then he tells her, in between bites of chicken, "Shut your a$$ up!" and laughs as if there was nothing bad about it. But I guess it should have been that way because he and his sister do not know what profanity is. Up until this point, he thought bad words were: shut it, zip it, shut up and stupid.
So it was another teachable moment.
"You cannot say bad words," we told him.
"What was a bad word?" he asked. His sister was waiting for the answer to that too.
"What you just said when you said something to your sister," I told him.
It was quiet for a moment. No one was laughing. The kids wheels were turning. Daddy and I were trying to figure out what to do next.
"I can't say bad words even when y'all aren't there?"
"No!" Daddy firmly told him. "God will tell us."
"He tell y'all everything?" he asked.
"Yep! How do you think we know about everything you do, even when we ain't there?" Daddy asked him.
"Oh. That's how you knew about me talking back to grandma?" he asked.
Before we could respond, his sister jumped in.
"Actually I told on you about that."
Daddy and I didn't know anything about that.
"And actually (looking around) he talked back to me too," his sister added.
We had to explain to her that she was not an adult so that would be different.
"Well actually I AM older than he is," she suggested.
At this point I felt that we were gettin away from the main point and needed to draw us back in.
"Well actually you can stop talking!" I firmly said.

Leaving A Legacy

2009-05-30T20:20:00.000-07:00

I know you are accustomed to reading humorous stories about Dude, Thing 1 and Thing 2- or Daddy and our two kids but this post will be a little bit different.
Today was my cousin's funeral. She and I were born the same day- same year! So she was just 37 but she left a nice legacy. One that her three young children and the rest of her family will be proud of. She touched myriad people in her short time here but we all know that God knows best.
Hearing people talk about her made my heart smile and got me thinking... What Will My Legacy Be? And especially for my kids.
We know that we can talk to kids 'till we are blue in the face but we have to remember that they sometimes do what we say but more often they do what they see us do.
It will soon be summer- time to hit the beach for some of us! Picture yourself walking on the beach, leaving your footprints in the sand. Then your child follows behind you- stepping in the prints you leave behind. Are you doing things that you want your child to see? Things that you want them to follow?
My cousin really loved life and showed it in everything she did. This trickled down to her kids. We, as parents, have this great gift! The chance to shape and mold our offspring in the way that we want. We may not always get it right but if we set the foundation... they will be okay. Sometimes they may veer off the road but we can trust that they will get back on.
They learn best from us- and we need to be their main teachers. We must be mindful of what we are doing and that they are watching and many times, whether we realize it or not, they are wanting to be like us. They are walking in our footsteps.
So again are we being cognizant of what we are doing and what we are passing on? We want to do things that others will talk about when we are gone. We want to leave a great legacy!

The Beekeeper!

2009-05-23T16:10:00.000-07:00

Okay last week our son tried to sneak something in the house.
"Uh wait, wait, wait a minute. What do you have there?" I asked him as he came in, not making any eye contact.
I knew he was up to something because he kept hanging around the front door and looking in at us. I never saw his hands when he looked in. He needs to up his game.
"What?" he replied, looking all around himself.
"Don't play with us. You know what your mama is talking about! Whatever is in that box you got behind your back- that's what!" Daddy added.
He didn't even answer. Defeated, he didn't even answer. He just dropped his head and headed back outside.
"What was in there?" Daddy shouted.
"Ants," he answered.
I couldn't believe it. And we have fire ants in our yard around this time of year.
Daddy giggled and shook his head, "He's all boy!"
Well today he was excited that he caught something in his bug catcher. Last time he used it he caught a lady bug and named her Lilly. We made him let her free after a few minutes. He just knew he saw her MONTHS later on the playground at school. He couldn't trust me when I explained that there are myriad ladybugs in the world and there was as strong possibility that it was not Lilly.
Nope. He knows everything!
He didn't catch a ladybug this time.
"Mama! Daddy! He gots a bee in there and he says he's gonna put it on my face!" Our daughter ran into the garage crying.
Daddy- well Dude today because he was not helping me as much as he should have. Dude and I were in the garage cleaning. Well I was cleaning.
He chased her around my van.
"Stop it! Leave her alone! You know she is scared of anything that flies!" I told him.
I assured her that he was not going to do anything to her.
"He just wants to scare you!" I added.
"No I'm gonna scare you mama!" he said.
Oh I could hear Dude trying to smother his laugh. I wanted to help with the smothering!
"I'm not scared of bees, mouth! I know to just leave 'em alone." "You're gonna get your little butt stung!"
His sister laughed hysterically.
"You're gonna get stung on your b-u-t-t!" she teased.
"And don't tell your sister you're gonna put the bee on her face!" I scolded.
"I didn't say that!" he adamantly said.
"Oh okay well leave her alone anyway," Dude told him.
"I said I was gonna pIt the bee on her mouth and let him sting her mouF off," he said, while shaking the bee held captive in his bug catcher.
"Bees don't sting boys," he glared at his sister. "They only sting girls!" he smiled.
I know it's not right, but for a minute I wanted that bee to get out and chase him around the yard then sting him one good time.

The Negotiator

2009-05-21T06:27:00.000-07:00

We warned our son that he would get a spankin' if he did not have a good day in school. The day before, he did not have a good day, and while I know it is Spring and nearing the end of school, so kids are getting a little "beside" themselves- we don't want him cutting up in school. He likes to tell us what other students did in class and how they got in trouble too.
We tell him the same thing each time, "We don't have anything to do with 'other' kids. They don't live in our house!"
Well he did not have a good day so we had to follow through on what we said and Daddy had to spank him. His sister- again being the compassionate child she is- gets upset when he gets spankings. Yet he will try to get a front row seat when it is her turn. For some reason that doesn't change a thing for her. Oh but when my younger brother would get "it" I would run to get a branch- not a switch- for our mom to use on him. And he did the same for me.
She started tearing up before Daddy and her brother had "the talk" so I got her out of the house. Okay I was a little upset too so we went to the garage and listened to some music. For some reason it does not bother me to spank them but it does when Daddy gets them. And "the talks" are worse to me than the spankings. I mean get it over with already so we can move on. My mom talked while she was spanking! Then she would make me take a nap! I remember waking up later feeling like I'd been born again! Back to the story...
So Daddy talks to him about why he was getting a spanking. Then when it was time for the spanking, our son wants to talk more.
"Daddy. Are you gonna spank me soft or hard?"
"Well I can't spank you soft son."
"Okay well are you gonna spank me hard or SUPER hard?"
"Come on and get it over with," Daddy told him.
He began to plead with him.
"Okay wait. Do you want me to stand up or do I have to lay over your lap?"
While he said this he began backing up toward his closet.
"Now you better not try to run in a corner in your closet or you will get it worse!" Daddy told him.
"Okay! Okay!" he cried then fell to pieces on the floor.

Turtles On The Move!

2009-05-19T16:38:00.000-07:00

Our son's birthday was just a few weeks ago. He wanted a turtle. He got one and named it Myrtle! The day of his birthday party he got a second turtle and named it (drum roll please)... Myrtle. Both turtles belonged to the same family and they will be moving out-of-state soon so they gave them to us! They said the second one seemed sad without its friend, relative- not sure how they are related. They are both cute little red-eared sliders!
I've never been into turtles but these little creatures have grown on us. Besides, unlike the other two we are raising outside of an aquarium, they can't talk, don't eat much, and you can look at 'em through a glass for a few minutes then walk away. Low maintenance!
Well it was Dude's idea to allow Myrtle I and Myrtle II to stay in our son's room. I didn't like it but I knew it wouldn't last long. I warned him (son) nicely!
"You got one time to not be responsible and they will be coming out of here!"
"You just gone throw them outside?" he asked.
"You know what I mean!" I replied.
And Dude never trusted him with them. He hid the food from him.
Well it did not last long.
Now I know that sometimes they (he and his sister) take the turtles out to play with them and we explained the whole deal about salmonella and washing their hands thoroughly so it had not been a problem... until Sunday night.
It was bedtime.
Our daughter stands in the doorway of our bedroom attempting to look innocent.
"Mama," she said softly. "We can't find one of the turtles."
"What do you mean you can't find a turtle? And why are you talking so low?" I asked.
She is never quiet.
Dude was in his favorite spot... on the couch. I nicely woke him.
"DADDY! Get up. Your kids have lost one of the turtles!"
He jumped up like he usually does- boxing the air.
Once he finally realized where he was and what I said, he smacked his lips and ran upstairs- fussing along the way.
"How long has the turtle been lost?" I asked the kids.
"Well we-" our daughter began.
"You know what. Don't say nothin'. I can't believe this. Y'all have lost a turtle in the house. I mean he could be pooping somewhere!" I scolded.
"Who let the turtle out?" I added.
"Um... well I-" our son tried to chime in.
"Didn't I say not to say nothin'?"
After about 10 minutes our son found one of the Myrtles. He was behind his Batman cave. Just chillin' inside his shell.
Poor thing. As soon as Dude put him back in the water he was all over that aquarium. If he could have talked I know he would have said,
"I gots to go! These people are crazy! Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello- where are y'all?"
We didn't move the little Ninjas then but not long after that our son struck again.
I went into his room for inspection. The room was fairly clean. But something just didn't feel quite right. Ya ever get that feeling? Anyway... I looked over at the aquarium. There were bubbles- suds in the water. Myrtle and Myrtle had their little heads out of the water. Normally when I would walk in there near them they went to the bottom.
They'd had enough!
"DADDY!" I yelled.
He and his sister came in and looked shocked. Like they were looking at the suds for the first time.
Before I could ask anything our son said, "I didn't did that."
"You didn't did that?" I laughed.
Mothers have good instincts and mine were saying from the look of him playing with his fingers and not being able to make eye contact- that he was guilty.
"Look at this! Why is there a paper towel over in here near the filter?" Dude asked.
His sister sang like a bird.
She explained that her brother used some of the soap from their bathroom then tried to get it out with that paper towel. The little rascal didn't think to get the paper towel out. He did not get that from his mama.
I conveniently had some work to do so I slipped away while Dude cleaned up everything and moved the turtles downstairs where we could keep an eye on them better.
The turtles didn't last twenty days in his room. I knew it!

Bopping and Driving!

2009-05-18T14:58:00.000-07:00

Okay I have to just come clean. I did it! I finally did it! It had been building up for some time now and I may have mentioned earlier that I wanted to get her.
I mean she had been under the radar far too long. Always having something to say but not big enough to hang around to back it up. Coming around at inconvenient times.
I had been waiting for the right moment to get her! I knew I needed a somewhat confined place.
I seized my opportunity... in the van!
We were coming up the hill, just a block or two away from the house when she opened that mouth again. I didn't hear her but her best friend did and reacted to her. I'd just finished fussing about the kids cleaning their rooms when we got home.
"What? I know you don't like cleaning either but you can't say that about my mama," my daughter giggled, while peering at me in my mirror.
I knew they were talking about me and they wanted to make sure I was listening.
Well I was and it was on.
I smiled and asked my daughter to let her buddy come sit up front beside me.
I could see skepticism in her eyes but she coerced her to go.
When I thought she was in the seat I bopped her close to her mouth- several times. Before she could catch her breath I started choking her off! I swerved a little but quickly got back across the yellow lines.
It felt GRRRRRRReat! And I wasn't done. I saw my pocket book nearby so I hit her a few times with it.
Our son laughed so hard!
His sister was speechless for once.
She didn't say anything until we pulled into the garage.
"Mama we should probably take Wilbur to the hospital."
I was in too deep now. I continued to play the game right along with my daugther.
"We can't. She not on our insurance," I told her.
The next day, I asked her (daughter) where Wilbur was. I thought surely I'd gotten rid of her.
"She's in the back seat with a cast on her neck!" she screeched. "Thanks to mama!"
She looked at me funny in the mirror. For a minute I felt crazy for going there over a make-believe friend.
I looked back at her in the mirror-
"Well that can happen to anyone. Real people too!"

A Hairy Tale

2009-05-14T19:04:00.000-07:00

I should've learned when our daughter was about five that we cannot let Daddy know everything.
When she was five he about had a nervous breakdown when he heard me tell her to wash her... (pretend you hear the ever popular music from Jaws- when the shark is coming) vagina!
He just could not deal with her saying or being familiar with the word. Even though most of us are big boys and girls and we know that is what females have. Nope his daughter has a "pocket book". You'll have to read my earlier blogs to get that story. Trust me it is hilarious.
Well I didn't learn.
Our daughter has some hair under her arms and he has freaked!
"WHAT?" he screeched.
He ran into the bathroom to investigate. You would have thought she was hurt and needed to be rushed to the emergency room.
"Do we need to make her an appointment to see the doctor?" he asked.
She just giggled. She enjoyed torturing him by raising her arms up so he could get a close look at the HAIRS (pretend you hear the music from Psycho- shower scene)!
"It's not funny!" he hurled.
"Calm down Dude! She ain't the only little girl who has started sprouting little hairs early!" I told him.
He would not let it go.
And I wanted to have fun so I said, "She has some more hair too."
I thought he would pass out.
"On her head," I whispered.

L Words Getting Better!

2009-05-12T13:56:00.000-07:00

I have told our daughter myriad times that her brother does and says things just to get under her skin.
"But Mama...(looking at her skin) he can't get under my skin. That would hurt!"
"Whatever. You know what I mean!" I'd sternly answer.
Still she gets upset- to his amusement.
We were in the car when Daddy noticed two huge birds flying nearby.
"Look!" he pointed out. "Look at those two birds. They look like they are playing with each other!"
Oh she was taken by this.
"Wow! You are right Daddy- they do look like they are playing. God's creatures are so pretty!"
She's such a sweet-spirited child.
"They keep flying around in circles over that field," she added. "Awww... I think they are Eagles!" she tried to inform us.
We knew they weren't Eagles but it didn't matter. We weren't gonna take her joy away.
But her brother could care less. He never sees the beauty around him like she and I do! ;o)
Not missing a beat from the artwork he was creating in the seat beside his sister, he said,
"She wieing. Dem ain't no Eagles. They look like just some buzzards."
Daddy and I just looked straight ahead at the road. We didn't say a word.
She was upset.
"No they are too Eagles! See how they-" she started.
"Nope. They are not pretty and they are not Eagles," he interrupted.
"Mama! Daddy! Will you tell him- well you don't know nothin' anyway!" she yelled.
At that point we had to jump in.
"Okay. Okay! We are not gonna start that now!" I told them. "And you need to remember to stick your tongue out to pronounce your "L" words. It's L-L-Lied. But you aren't supposed to use that word!"
I turned to look at him to make sure he understood.
"L-L-LIED," he said with his tongue out.
He actually did do well with the "L" that time.

Happy Mother's Day

2009-05-10T17:50:00.001-07:00

Happy Mother's Day to all mothers reading this post!
All I wanted today was to be able to do nothing- just to relax and not worry about a thing. I got it! I took a long nap after eating out and I have been just sitting... doing nothing all day. We need that sometimes. Our plates are so full of cares for others that we don't take care of ourselves. But we need to put ourselves first. It does not mean we are selfish. As the old adage says, "If mama ain't happy- nobody is happy!"
Think about it. When we are stressed from our daily routine of myriad things we do, that stress can become agitation and that may cause us to be short with our families, our energy is zapped so we may not be able to interact much with our kids and Lord knows by the end of the day when we are dog-tired we certainly ain't in a "loving" mood for our spouses. So husbands if you are reading this- HELP US OUT! Help to lighten our loads. Then maybe you would get more! I'm sure that got some people's attention.
Of course this post would not be complete without a little humor. And with our two little ones, we have plenty of it.
This morning our newly turned six-year-old told me Happy Mother's Day, then quickly followed with, "Mama. When is son's day?"
"Uh, you get a day everyday son. You ain't got any bills, someone takes great care of you. You get hugs galore. You got it made everyday," I told him.
Surprisingly he didn't have anything to say to that.
So we are going to church and I turn to them (he and his sister) and tell them that I may have to say something in church. Our pastor asked a few moms in the church to sit in on a panel to talk about things pertaining to being a mom. It was an honor and I couldn't say no but how I get nervous speaking in front of a lot of people. Our church has almost one thousand.
"Oh mama you will be okay. You may just have a little stage fright so you just take a deep breath and blow it out slowly," our compassionate, sweet daughter advised.
I smiled, looked out the window and took it in.
Then her brother chimed in.
"Mama. I don't care if you get nervous and I ain't gone cover for you," he said nonchalantly, while drawing in his little notebook.
He never looked up at me and meant every word he said. So brutally honest at all times.

People in Costumes- No Way!

2009-05-04T19:54:00.000-07:00

Okay I mentioned that our son turned six yesterday. Well I did not mention his party. Now he is like me when it comes to talking junk- Dude (when am I not mad at him about somethin' okay) can describe my son and I, so well.

"Oh y'all bad in the daylight but let it get dark!" he always balks.

Well our son has a fear of people in costumes. Everyone in costumes.

When we went to Disney World for the first time, two years ago, he didn't waist any time gettin' away from Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dumb. I mean I didn't know he could move that fast. I looked around and he was over in the roped off area- where he wasn't supposed to be, breathing heavily.

In my sweet, calm, motherly voice I tried to coerce him into climbing over the rope.

"Get your little butt from over there boy before you get us kicked out of Magic Kingdom!"

He wasn't having it initially.

"Come on- we will go the other way and wait for them (Daddy and his sister) to finish," I told him as I snatched him by the wrist.

They were in line to get the Tweedles' autograph and pictures.

He came on but looked back frantically to make sure their images were getting smaller as we walked further away.

Let's just run down a list of people he is scared of: Santa, Easter Bunny, Mickey & Minnie and all their people, the Chick-Fil-A cow, the cell phone dude at our church fall festival- and you could see the person's ashy knees below the phone costume, and... Chuck-E-Cheese!

Yet he requested a party there. Hmmm... Hmmmm

We talked to him about it and because the small county where we reside has very few places to have parties for kids, we decided to have a party there.

"Now look- I don't wanna hear no crying when that rat comes out!" I told him.

Oh but he was bad-

"Mama I ain't gonna be scared. I'm gonna be six and be a big boy."

Yes he talked a good game up until we drove up in the parking lot of the place.

We argued about it a bit in the car then I ended it-

"Look! You wanted it and your friends are coming now so we gotta go in!"

"Okay," he said. "When Chuck-E comes out I will just go hide in that playhouse. He can't fit in there."

Of course he was apprehensive going in. Luckily our hostess informed us that the rat wasn't coming out until 4pm which was shortly before the end of our time there. So he went and freely played with his friends.

"Wook mama!" he said while shaking his little behind- being silly.

"There go Chuck-E," I said being funny.

He was ready to take off.

When the rat did come out he was gone in a flash!

He was hiding up top in the treehouse as planned. It was so sweet though. I thought his friends would tease him but everyone who came from his class, were right up there with him.

Back in the day my friends would have been laughing at me about something like that.

The parents were giggling. I mean it looked absolutely ridiculous- the birthday boy hiding from the rat when he was supposed to be on the little dance floor being a star with the rat.

Luckily Dude filmed it! Can't wait to pull it out 20 years from now when he goes on his FIRST date.

We Found a Turtle!

2009-05-01T16:49:00.000-07:00

I am so relieved! All our son wanted for his birthday was a turtle. Daddy has been searching for weeks to find him one. We had a few friends in on the search as well.
One of Daddy's (high school) students found one. But it was a snapping turtle. My eyebrows went up initially. I thought, "This may be good. It won't hurt the boy to get one snap, as much as he talks lately."
But the rational parent part of my brain kicked back in and declined. Actually we were gonna keep that one on stand-by just in case we could not find one in time. Today is Friday and his birthday is Sunday. We almost gave up hope.
Then today I bumped into a parent of a child in our son's class. She was talking about his birthday party. While talking about it she asked what he was into or what he wanted for his birthday.
"All he wants is a turtle," I laughed. "And we are having a time finding one."
The mom bent down to her daughter.
"You wanna give him one of our turtles?" she asked.
Surprisingly and fortunately the little girl said yes! And they came back 15 minutes later with the turtle, a year's supply of food, a book on red eared sliders, and a short informational session on its care. What a blessing!!
The family is moving to Las Vegas in a few weeks and were planning to free their turtles- they have a second one- before they leave. So this worked out so well. The may give us the second one closer to their departure.
So our son has been so engaged with this turtle. We have already gone out and purchased some items for "Myrtle's" new home. That was our son's name for the turtle.
"What if he poops on me?" he has asked. He and his sister thinks it is the funniest thing to say the word "poop".
"Mama! Myrtle is probably gonna have babies soon and lay some eggs," he suggested.
Before I thought about it I opened that door-
"Naw. Myrtle needs a mate to do that."
"But how the turtles gonna get married and have babies?"
Before I could answer he suggested something else-
"Mama. Can you and Daddy get married again so you can have another baby? I want a baby brother."
HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? DO YOU NOT SEE THE CARE INVOLVED IN RAISING YOU AND YOUR SISTER? I MEAN COME ON- EVERY OTHER WEEK DUDE WORKS MY NERVES AND YOU WANT ME TO TAKE THOSE VOWS AGAIN? YOU AND YOUR SISTER ARE DOING SO MUCH THAT I HAVE THINGS TO BLOG ABOUT EVERY WEEK, IF NOT EVERYDAY! I CAN'T JUST PUT SOME WATER IN A TANK, ADD A RAMP AND A HEAT LAMP AND DROP IN A FEW PELLETS OF FOOD EVERY MORNING FOR THE THREE OF Y'ALL!
"No baby. Myrtle is your new brother," I smiled. "Be happy with that."
"Mama... Myrtle is a girl." "MYRTLE," he emphasized. "Dove."

Stop Tapping Me!

2009-04-29T18:54:00.000-07:00

I'm standing at the register talking to the cashier. Then I feel one of them tapping me from behind. I ignore it and continue talking to the cashier.
It didn't matter that I ignored him- the youngest spoke anyway. I guess the tap was his warning.
"Mama... she passed gas," he said- and it was NOT a whisper.
I just tried to talk louder. I didn't entertain him at all.
So what does he do? He walks around so he can look up to see my face. Make sure I hear him I guess.
My conversation was basically over but she was still ringing me and I did not want her (cashier) to hear any part of what he was saying about his sister, so I quickly started talking again- trying to drown him out, while turning away from him. I'm sure I seemed odd to the cashier now.
"I like those earrings. They look nice on you!" I smiled at her.
She felt her ears.
She hesitated to reply but with a peculiar look she thanked me. She was wearing tiny, small, little earrings. Much like the plain, silver or gold (ball) earrings a child gets when she first gets her ears pierced. Nothing stunning at all.
But it was the only thing I could think of talking about to drown my son out.
Didn't work. He got it in despite my quick thinking.
"She passed gas two times," he said, pinching his nose.
I got my change. Pressed my lips together and felt sweat all over my body.
Even though I did not know the cashier, I was embarrassed.
"Thank you!" I told her. "Come on, let's go!" I told the kids as I headed for the door.
As soon as the door closed behind us I asked him,
"What did you want me to do about it?"
He shrugged his shoulders- realizing I was not happy.
"Did you want me to go all Willy Nilly on your sister or something? I mean there was nothin' I could do but you'd rather broadcast it in the store!"
"I told him not to be a tattle-tell," his sister said, as if she were in the clear.
My attention quickly shifted.
"And you should have used your manners and said excuse me- no, better yet you should not have done that in the store!"
We got in the car and buckled up. Before I could put the car in reverse I felt a tap on my shoulder. I ignored it and threw it in reverse to get out of the parking lot.
Fingers tapping again on my shoulder.
"Mama... who is Willy Nilly?"
I wanted to scream!
"Stop tapping me!"

A Hair Raising Story from Walgreens

2009-04-26T19:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we (kids and I) went to Walgreens. I gave them the usual spill-
"You ain't gettin' nothin' so don't ask!" and "Don't touch nothin'!"
I did end up getting something they wanted but it was a good product. The new Plaque Detector for kids- we'd just seen it on TV and Dude said it would be good for them to use, especially for our youngest who spends every bit of 35 seconds brushing his teeth. They saw it and did a good job of selling it.
"Mama. Here is what Daddy was talking about to get us to help us brush. And you know he (pointing to her little brother on the sly) doesn't brush good. You know that Mama," my daughter said.
"Watch it woman!" our son snickered. "I can hear ya!" he added, while eyeing some candy.
I could see his little wheels turning- possibly trying to come up with a reason that candy would be good to get.
"Nope!" I told him when his lips first separated to talk.
"Come on, we gotta go get Du- I mean Daddy from softball practice," I yelled to them while speed walking to the register.
There was just one person in front of us but the cashier took so long that a line had now formed.
Finally it was my turn. I threw in an Almond Joy with the rest of my items.
"How come you get to get sumpin?" our son asked.
"Because I have a job and have money- you don't always have to get something." I told him.
"I can't wait 'till I can be an Edult and buy my own things. I'm gonna buy a lot of stuff," he replied.
"Good! I wish you could buy your own stuff now before you become an Adult."
His sister was fine. She was busy looking at the little products at the register. I was about to get my bag when she said, on full volume-
"Look Mama. This little thing is like a mitten and it says you can use it to shave hair off of ya."
"That's nice baby come on," I smiled to the others in line.
"And you could even use it to get those hairs under your underarms!" she added.
She and her brother had a ball laughing as we walked out the store. I'm sure the people in line did too.

I'll Have the Last Laugh!

2009-04-23T21:56:00.000-07:00

I got really good laugh today! I posted, on Facebook, for my status that I was gonna have to lay the right-hand of fellowship on my kids. I received a few comments. One friend posted a hilarious, off-the-wall, comment.
"Take out all the racks in your fridge and hide in there. When the kids get hungry and come open it, surprise 'em and jump out and start whippin' 'em with a gallon of milk and some frozen steaks."
Uh... can we say Social Services or the Po Po coming?
It was funny! So funny to me that I called my younger brother to tell him about it.
Then he had a better, more realistic suggestion.
"Naw, beat the mess out of Wilbur!"
Wilbur is our daughter's make-believe friend she conveniently talks to at inappropriate times. Last time being seconds after I fussed her out. She claimed Wilbur was talking about me. You'd have to go back and read that post.
This is a great idea! I'm gonna do it! I'm gonna just jump up in the middle of her watching Disney Channel and pretend to beat Wilbur down. I can see myself, choking him- or her- then throw in a little old school wrestling moves (when wrestling seemed a little more real). I'm gonna put Wilbur in the head-lock first and run toward the wall, then put him in the figure-four, then show no mercy and pile drive him-or her.
Can't wait to see what my daughter does then. Get Wilbur up out of here!
Now her brother choked Wilbur once. I probably posted about it too but it was when he was younger. I think he was in daycare because that made it funnier- that he was so young to think t do that.
He wanted to play with her but she told him no that she was playing with Wilbur instead. He sat there for a minute, then out of the blue, this little child I delivered, knee-high to a grassphopper, began choking her make-believe friend, Wilbur. And he put emotion into it to. Bit his bottom lip and choked and shook Wilbur wildly! He did it for about two minutes too.
But his sister wasn't rattled. When he finished she folded her arms and told her brother,
"Wilbur is over there." Pointing to another area of the room.
That's okay. I'll get him! I'll have the last laugh.