Black Friday

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

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?

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

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!

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

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

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.