WTF Spring Cleaning

The snow has melted, now I am confronted by the disaster of my house. You see, when the snow is on the ground there's always, "Let's go out for a few runs, I can clean up later."

Spring is here.

-----Insert sobs of despair right here.

Disclaimer: They are sobs not that ski season has ended, but now I actually HAVE TO CLEAN!

This year though, I am motivated. I started with telling the boys that they had to clutter clean their rooms. They look at me like, "What?" I say, "Go through your drawers and pull out anything you do not wear, our house is too small to hold onto anything."  (except my books and office supplies)

"Make three piles, the NOT SURE, CHARITY, and TRASH IT pile."

I come back downstairs, and there are three piles, larger than me in the middle of the downstairs floor.

Where did it all come from? Their rooms aren't big enough to hold that much shit.

What the hell am I going to do with it?

I ponder tossing a match into all three, not asking which is which and walking away.

Then I think, "I could leave the front door unlocked, posting a 'Rob Me' sign on the front door" adding, the piles are downstairs, oh, and take that pair of jeans that don't fit but I keep in case one day they finally will. Upstairs dresser, 3rd drawer down right hand side."

But we live on a pretty deserted road and I'm too lazy to post "Rob Me" adds on Craigslist, so I need better options:

Ditch the house, move out in the middle of the night? Wake up in a new town in a clean house alone?

Naw, ditch the house, move out making sure I take my box of wine under one arm and the dog under the other?

I could start in a new town, one that still has snow and is extending their season?

For some reason, I think I would miss them, there has to be another way.

Wait! I could sign us up for Hoarders, then someone else will clean my house and PAY ME to do it!  Why didn't I think of this earlier?

Sadly, we don't quality for Hoarders, I even showed them under my teenager's bed and they still turned me down!

My boys try that teenager reverse psychology on me, "You are the only on seeing this as a mess, look at it as art."

What?

I look at my wine box, thinking I could be part of the problem. I could drink a couple glasses of wine and miraculously, the piles of clothes would turn into leaf piles and we'd all have fun jumping into them?

Naw, I can't have my eyes removed, I lost my rose colored glasses, they are piles of stuff that need to go.

So I try a different approach on them,

"Listen, I think it is time to throw out everything that doesn't bring me joy." They look at me funny, I add,

"these massive piles of clothes, the three boxes of protein bars I will not eat, that bottle of Fireball,

Oh and maybe the Xbox and

TWO BOYS."

You'd be amazed at how quickly those piles of clothes disappeared.

But, wait, I have boys.

Where did they put them?

Oh look there's three massive piles of clothes hidden in the corner of the garage.

Here we go again.

WTF - How to handle snow days.

We moved to the mountains for snow, so there's no complaining here.  After a crappy December of NO SNOW, Mother Nature took pity on us.

Day 1 - Very happy that the school decided to call at 545am to call school. Watching the weather the night before and 6-8 inches told me we wouldn't have school anyway.  Can't get back to sleep.

Day 2 - Tell the kids they should try reading for 20 minutes each day. Youngest son pulled out a math snow day packet.  They were quiet downstairs, found them both napping amidst empty cookie boxes and pretzel bags.


Day 3 - Boys arguing so much, I sent them out to shovel. Whatever they could find. They shoveled a path to their ramp and rail, left the steps untouched. On their way out to shovel, my gloves, hat and sock bins exploded all over the downstairs.

Day 4 - youngest son has lost the math packet, I hope I didn't use it to start the fire.  Slipped and busted my ass on the unshoveled steps.  Locked both boys out of the house until the steps are shoveled. Amazingly all my sock, hat and glove bins exploded all over the downstairs.

Day 5 - Someone moved the xBox and Black Ops game upstairs while I was looking for the math packet. The shoveled steps now have a thin coat of ice on them, busted my ass again. (secretly counting bottles of wine and calculating what's needed before I can get to the store)

THE WEEKEND!  Couldn't sleep in because it was time to ski!

Day 6 - At least they called school the night before.  Netflix sent me a congratulatory letter for most hours watched while my iWatch is reminding me every 15 minutes that I am supposed to stand!

Day 7 - 3 hour delay, we all are kind of breathing a sigh of relief because I am quickly figuring out why some mothers eat their young.  Oh wait, school got called.  Let's make Rice Krispy Treats for breakfast.

Thank God we have a ski resort close, sending everyone over there.

How many bottles of wine are left?

Day Two - Hotel Wars

Day Two Hotel Wars

This time the drive was much shorter, as crossing from Virginia in the Chesapeake Tunnel moved to simply looking at corn fiields.

Me, “Let’s pull off into those little towns.”

Teenage Son, “Really Mom, what is there to do in a little town.  Especially when we don’t have a good internet connection.”
Youngest son, “Did your bed bugs go away?”

Teenager starts itching.

Given the chore of booking a hotel room, I was told by the hubby, “Find us something cheap.  With a breakfast.”

So that is exactly what I did.  I found us the Knights Inn of Virginia Beach, a lovely two room suite with kitchenette and piping hot breakfast.

The boys complained the room smelled.

The boys complained that several people in the parking lot looked like pimps.

I wondered how the boys knew what pimps were.

"Will someone rob us here?"  The youngest asked.

On checking out, no one wanted the piping hot breakfast as that meant eating your food in front of the hotel manager while standing in the lobby.  We opted for just a cup of coffee.

The next day as I drove, Dad was given the job of finding the hotel room in Baltimore.

“Guess what boys!  We have a two room GRAND SPA suite at the Inn a Black Olive!”

He went through the list:

All organic hotel.  Two rooms, two beds with turkish towels and sheets. 

Jacuzzi tup

TV that actually was the twentieth century.

A complimentary bottle of gluten free/organic mountain spring water.

Rooftop deck with restaurant

I stop the car and look at my husband.  “What did you spend on that?”

He looks back at the kids and winks, “I got a deal it was only 154/night!  Thank goodness for the Baltimore Riots!”

Both boys turn to me.  “And you got us the bed bug infested Knights Inn?”

I look at everyone.  “OK, one, I was given a budget of only twenty dollars.  And two, it was Virginia Beach.”

Both kids look at me, “We need Dad to pick out the hotel rooms from now on.”

We enjoy our spa suite, walk around Fells Point, with a dinner at Charleston’s, our favorite restaurant.  Tony Foremand and Cindy Wolf started at Savanah’s back when we lived in Fells Point.  We’ve followed them from different restaurants and different experiences.  Tonight I became one of those persons on the Food Network Shows.

For my first course I had a 23 year old Pappy VanWinkles bourbon.  Woodsy but delicious.

We both had Lobster Soup - brought out as lobster in the middle of a bowl with a curry reduction around it.  The intesne broth was then poured around it creating this amazing soup.

Followed by a Mushroom Tart - mushrooms with feta cheese and sauce in a puff pastry tart covered with edive.  The nice sherry we had added a different dimension to the meal as we tasted it with the food pairing.

Frozen Custard for dessert rounded the meal perfectly, the cool cream and a nice sherry complimenting each other.

We finished the evening taking our youngest on a walk through Fells Point, funny that as we walked up to the Cat’s Eye Pub, we left a friend sitting on those marble steps over 20 years ago, and as we walked up there he was sitting in the same place so many years later.  I wish we could say that neither of us had changed.

I am going to tell the children that I chose the room for this cruise, I really need to pick things up a notch.

NANOWRIMO Games - Event 1 Dialogue Only

Ever had a conversation like this?

Billy, Tommy!  Come on it is time to go!

What?

I told you an hour ago, we need to leave now to get to the beach before dark.  I hate driving in the dark.  I can’t see anymore.  Get in the car.

But I don’t have shoes on.

Didn’t you hear me?  I told you to be ready an hour ago.

Can we pack up the X-box, we will be bored there.

Guys!  It is the freaking beach!  You will be on the beach, you won’t have time to play the X-box.  Get your shoes on and let’s go.

Where did you put my Neff socks, I can’t find them.

Just wear these.  You’ll be barefoot most of the weekend, it won’t matter.

Mom, people don’t wear Puma socks anymore.  They wear Nike or Neff.

What?  These socks look EXACTLY like your Neff socks, and your Dad wears them.

See?  Point made.

Oh my God, just get in the car.

Hold on, I’m almost done packing the X-box.

I told you we didn’t need the X-box, we’re at the beach.

But what about at night, what are we going to do at night.

We could have a conversation with each other, you know, sit on the porch and T-A-L-K.

About what?

I thought we didn’t have a porch.  

OK, whatever, pack the Xbox, we leave in ten minutes.

Should we pack clothes?

pause

Yes, you should pack clothes.  What have you been doing for the past hour?

Playing the xBox.

Oh.

How much clothes should we pack?

Really?  We are going to the beach for the weekend.  What do you think?

Do we need a bathing suit?

pause

Yes, you need a bathing suit, two pairs of shorts, two shirts.  I’m putting the last of my things in the car, get ready.

OK, I’ve got the xBox, my iPhone, the iPad, Apple TV and Kindle.  I’m set.

So glad you and your brother are planning on enjoying nature.

Mom?  Where did you put my Volcom shorts?

They are in the washing machine?

What they weren’t dirty, now what am I going to take to the beach?

They were on your floor so I figured they were dirty.  The dog did too because she peed on them.

Oh, can I take them wet?  They are my favorite shorts?

Sure, just hang them on the back seat and they’ll dry on the drive.

OK, I am ready.  Here’s my backpack.

Wait a minute, that’s my pair of Neff socks, you can’t have them.

No they’re not, they were in my drawer.  So technically they are mine.

No, they are not, look it says LARGE, that means they are mine.

They were in my drawer, so they are mine.

Will you two stop fighting over socks?  Just put both of the backpacks in the car, we have to leave, go use the bathroom, there is no time for pit stops.  I want to check into the hotel by 6pm.

But what about dinner?  What will we eat?

It’s one o’clock in the afternoon, let’s worry about that later?  We could eat after we check in.

But what kind of restaurants do they have there?  Do they have Mexican?

I hate Mexican, do they have Sushi.

I don’t like Sushi, you like Mexican, you always eat it.

Because you always make Mom take us to Mexican restaurants.

Guys, guys, it’s only one o’clock, let’s get moving we will worry about dinner later, OK?  Just get in the car and let’s get going OK?

I really want Mexican tonight, can’t you get Mexican?

I want Sushi, let’s get both, Mom can stop at two restaurants.

What?  No, I’m not stopping anywhere, especially since we are now 30 minutes late leaving.

It’s his fault, he couldn’t find socks.

Because you were hiding them in your back pack.

No I wasn’t, they are my socks.

Oh my God, will you two shut up and buckle in.  OK, we have a total of 7 hours and 36 minutes before we hit the beach.  We may be eating a late dinner.

We could always stop and get quick Mexican along the way?

But I don’t want Mexican, I want Sush!

Did you guys put your backpacks in the trunk?  

What?  Oh wait.  Hold on a minute.

pause

Finally!  Here we go!  Only 7 hours and 15 minutes left to go before we are in our bathing suits for a whole weekend!

Oh crap!  Mom wait, I forgot my bathing suit.

We Have Gnomes in Our House

Two pesky little creatures called "Not Me" and "I don't know."

It is amazing how much trouble these little guys can get into.

They are very hungry little gnomes.  They love drinking all of the orange juice and leaving the empty container in the fridge.
  
If I get mad at them for doing this, they leave the full container in the fridge with the lid barely on so I douse myself with orange juice pulling it from the fridge.

They don't like my hardwood floors, feeling that they would look so much better with a nice covering of used candy wrappers.  Which is easy to do because they always drop them sticky side down so they won't move when my boys walk over them and cement them better to the floor.

I think they are afraid of kitchen elves, because they leave every single cabinet door wide open.  If could be to better see what's in there without the bothersome exercise of opening a cabinet door, or to protect themselves from any creative gnome trickery.

They both are raging fashionistas because no human, really.  No human.  Can try on and dump the amount of clothing sitting on my sons' bedroom floors.

I think they sleep with the Apple TV remote, because for some reason the only place I consistently find it is tucked under the cushions of the couch, after spending 15 minutes looking for it everywhere else.

I haven't caught a glimpse of them yet, still looking under each candy wrapper as I carefully peel it from the floor but no sight of them yet.

I know they are still here.

Someone left a nice big turd in the toilet.

It's the most wonderful time of the year - Camp Edition

It's the most wonderful time of the year.  Do you hear that?  Yep!  It's silence.  The minions are away at camp and I'm sitting here with a cup of coffee and a full day stretching out ahead of me.  What to do, what to do?

I dropped them off yesterday, driving the hours to the camp site, 5 boys in the car.  I will not tell you all the wonderful sights and smells of that car ride.  Needless to say, I was elated when we reached the drop off point.  My first thought was:

"Is anyone working here of legal drinking age?"

But, of course, that did not to deter me from dropping all of their crap off in a big pile at the front door to their room and happily skipping and jumping back to the car.

My conscience tried to make me feel bad, "Isn't it odd that you spend so much time trying to find the right baby sitter, but you're dropping your kids off with all these other kids with out a single background check?  And you're signing that waiver without even reading through any of the blah, blah, blah you could die stuff?"

I think it is the lure of freedom that muddies our brains.  Sure, their counselor has dred locks, looks about 14 years old, AND just called me "Bra."  I am sure he is more than qualified of taking care of my children for 5 days, I mean that's nothing.  I've had them for 13 years so far and haven't killed them yet.  They're pretty resilient.

As I set them up, I learned a few things about overnight camp with boys.

Trash bags are your best method of transporting your children's camp items.  Because suitcase spontaneously explode the moment they hit the floor of their room.  Trash bags also are a great way to scoop everything off of the floor on the last day and "pack efficiently."  (this was explained to me by a room mate who told them to save their trash bags!)

Do not try to be a "good mother" and diligently pack for your children.  They will be ridiculed by their bunkmates, some of them specifically saying, "Why did you bring shampoo, a hairbrush and soap?  Are you planning on staying clean?"

Trying to get that photo of the start of camp is mortifying to your children.  Better to sneak around the building to the back window and get the picture of them without their knowledge.

Relax.  They got this.  Especially when, after driving the 4 hours back to home, I get a text 

Alex is on his way to the ER.  My son texts.

WHAT????  I reply back.

My son replies , "Why are you freaking out?" 

WHAT HAPPENED?   THE ER as in EMERGENCY ROOM.  I type in.

He's fine.  My son texts back.

Then why to the ER.  I reply starting to calm down.  Could I loose my 5 days of peace?

Because he hurt his finger on the trampoline.  He replies back.  The food is good here.

Again the promise of a quiet week muddies my brain.  OK, it is only a hyperextended finger.  No biggie, they'll splint it and he'll just have to be careful, right?  You already paid for camp.  I'm not driving another 4 hours to go get him.

I'll take the son's text to heart.  "He's fine."

Oh, it's the most wonderful time of the year.

Kids and Listening - WHAT?

Today we switched things up with a trip to Canyons Mountain Resort - 10 minutes away but a totally different experience.  One that included gondolas (you should have seen their faces), Orange Bubbles, and Half Pipes.

Do your children have the selective hearing disease?  The one where I tell them,

"Dad and I are skiing over off of Dreamcatcher Lift, meet us there in one hour for lunch."

1 hour later, someone is texting me, "Where are you?"

Dreamcatcher Lift.

why

Because we wanted to ski those blacks.

But what about lunch.

(heavy sigh) Come over to Dreamcatcher and we'll stop for lunch.

Sometimes it is nice to not really exist - to just relax while the rest of the family dukes it out for who was right, which way to go, why didn't we do that.  Other times it would be nice for someone to listen to me.

"We need to take Sidewinder Trail down to the Short Cut Lift to get down to the base."

They are busy arguing about Dreamcater, and Cloud 99 and every way but the one I suggested.  Of course, I was the only one to study the map realizing that there is no way over the valley except for the Short Cut lift.  I say, "Well we have to get to the Short Cut Lift to get down to the base."

They are moving into hiking to the top of another peak to pickup a run to make it to base when my youngest, maybe his brain is not so fermented on sugar as the other says, "Wait a minute, we can't get back down unless we take the Short Cut Lift here."

My jaw drops as they all say, "Wow, you're right Max.  Good job, we should take Sidewinder over to the Short Cut Lift to make it to the base of the mountain."

"Let it go, " I tell myself

It is even evident in Apres Ski, it seems that most men just don't really hear what women are saying at times, and if they did, they would thank us for it.

I watch the bartender put a cup on a base and it fills from the bottom with beer, not from a tap at the top.

"Wow, that's cool, how does it work?"

She smiled, "It has a hole in the bottom, the beer comes through there, then there is a magnet that covers it.  Controls the pour for us, we recycle the cups AND the magnets."

I look at the bottom of the cup and my finger travels to the bottom, where the magnet it, she says, "I wouldn't push that unless you want to wear your beer."

My hubby comes in and looks at his beer, "That's wierd what's this on the bottom."

Me, "It's a magnet because they fill the beer from the bottom up, don't push on it."

Does he listen to me.  As I turn, he's holding the cup up above his head, looking closely at the magnet.  I watch his finger travel slowly to the magnet at the bottom, I try to say something, but I've lost my voice (I cannot tell you why)

I watch my husband do it and douse himself with beer.  I watch other people come in and the girls were smart enough to not push on the magnet, but everyone that wore beer surprisingly was male??

Funny, that we keep trying to tell them what is smart for them, thinking that maybe one day - they will actually listen.

Nah, who's got time for that anyway.

How do you get 3 boys to a destination.....

Things that will happen when traveling with boys.  2 flights 2+ hours each.

One of my children went walking by with bulging pockets after casually passing by the hostess stand of the restaurant.  Me standing with my hands on my hips watching him empty 62 mints back in to the bowl.

Amazing what boys can do when they are excited to trash a hotel room:

One was jumping from bed to bed while I was trying to have a conversation with my hubby.

The other was in the one and only bathroom of the hotel room for a VERY long time.

A third was constantly knocking on the door trying to get the second one out of said bathroom.

So we make our 650am flight, hauling 4 ski bags (they resemble body bags) along with 3 other rolling bags, back packs and one purse.  

I always laugh watching my husband loose it when trying to control everyone checking in.  Max is doing 360's by the ticketing kiosks, Matthew is wrestling Wolfgang, and I am acting like I don't know anyone. 

Jeff hands everyone their boarding pass and within 5 seconds of giving them their boarding pass, Max has already lost his.  I just walk away while Jeff is lecturing about being responsible and taking care of your things.

We go to the club and Matthew smashes Max in the elevator, all three boys disappear into the men's room of the club for a VERY long time.  I'm mortified when I watch the cleaning lady go in behind them - she doesn't know what she is in for.

On the plane because my husband is preferred status, American offered him a complimentary drink and complimentary snacks for the family.

The boys, "Wow, we get FOOD on this FLIGHT!  I guess we didn't need to put all those mints from the hotel in our pockets to feed us."

The flight attendant, comes up to me, "MRS. MELANG, YOUR HUSBAND HAS A COMPLIMENTARY DRINK, HE SAYS YOU WANT IT.  DO YOU WANT A DRINK?"

I almost want to whisper to her, "Jeez lady, it's 730am do you have to announce to the whole plane that I get a FREE DRINK."

Oh she doesn't stop there, "WE CAN GET YOU A MIMOSA OR A BLOODY MARY WHAT TYPE OF DRINK DO YOU WANT?  WE HAVE WINE AND VODKA AND WHISKEY."

I see everyone on the plane looking at me, then they look over at the three boys and full understanding dawns on them.  I whisper to her what I want.

"OH A BLOODY MARY IT IS, JEAN CAN YOU GET MRS. MELANG A BLOODY MARY?"

And you wonder why at 7am I am drinking a bloody mary, here's why:

Oh and add SOMEONE having gas the entire one hour drive, stinking up the car.  Jeff and I went shopping and when we went to put everything in the back of the car, the boys had farted so much in the car that opening the trunk it felt like it farted in our face!

But their excitement makes all the mishaps bearable as I see them start to quiver when we drive through  the mountains and get first look at the ski resorts.  I think I am ready for this.

If I don't survive the 9 days, look for me buried underneath a snow drift-----but happy.

WTF - Do not make me go there!

I've explained to my children that I am a sweet, wonderful girl.  They, however have sucked the sweetness out of my until I resemble this old crone, pointing a finger at them saying, "You!  You did this to me!"  How did they do it?  Let me start my list.

Mothering moment of the day.  I don't know what I hate more, folding laundry, matching socks, or putting it away.  But coming back to my folded laundry and finding that someone was "looking for something" and DESTROYED it?  So what did I do?

I went into their room, taking each piece of clean laundry, folding it into a ball and throwing it at them.  "No, I'm not folding it anymore.  Why should I, you just ball it up and leave it on the floor anyway."  Oh, that they were laughing while dodging clean underwear - well, that didn't help.

Where Is such and such?  Seriously, do you think because I am the only one in this house with boobs that they will automatically point to the object you are looking for?  Especially when you push your favorite pair of pants under your bed.  I'll automatically know where they are AND take them and wash them?

Do not even think of asking me to find something when you are late for school.  I can safely say that if they ever recast the movie Rumplestilkskin, they have a leading character in me!  If it is the, "Oh, I forgot my school project,"  to "where is my belt, my pants are falling down," don't spring things on me at the last minutes.  Don't especially tell me 2 minutes before we are due to walk out the door that you don't have any "clean" clothes.  They are clean, you just let them fall into balls on the floor and didn't pick them up.  If the dog has peed on them but they have not been in the washing machine since I last washed them, in my dictionary - THEY ARE CLEAN.

Newsflash - when you leave an empty container in the refrigerator - there isn't some fairy that appears magically filling it back up.  That is true for:
Yogurt containers  (Seriously, who leaves the empty yogurt container in the fridge WITH THE SPOON IN IT?)
Ice cream containers
orange juice
Danimals
Jello

The last roll of toilet paper is not the lost scroll of Amenhotep.  Touching it will not make you go blind. There are a few things you do in the bathroom that may accomplish that.

And if you really want to piss Mom off, leave the empty box of Butterscotch Krimpets in the pantry.  When I sneak in there at 10pm, and reach for it and find it EMPTY.

"Aaagh!!!"

Now that you are old enough, there are few things I will not do:
I don't pour glasses of milk.
I don't put dishes in the dishwasher
I don't smell socks to see if they are clean.
I will NEVER, I repeat NEVER pull your finger (you learned this from Daddy)

There you have it, I've lowered my standards because you've lowered yours.  Here's what I'm doing:

I'm throwing the pile of laundry on your bed until you can't stand it and fold it yourself.  (see how you like turning every single T-shirt right side in!)

I'm hiding a plate, utensils, and cup for me (you're resorted to finally eating off the counter because everything has disappeared into your room.

I'm hiding the toilet paper to make sure A, there's always some for me and B. You don't know where it is.

Oh and that bullhorn I just bought.  Well you'll find out about that tomorrow morning.

And finally, I'm leaving the seat DOWN after I pee.

Don't mess with Momma!

It's a Given - Children Edition

Here's a top 10 list of "It's a Given" when it comes to my children:

It's a given that when one of them decides to toot, strangely enough the other is somewhere close enough to grab and sit on.

It is a given that there are 4 really comfortable chairs in my living room.  But there will be one that they will have a WWE smack down on who sits in the chair first.

It is a given that when an argument breaks out between my boys it will always travel to right behind my chair in my office.

It is a given that both will ask me a constant barrage of questions when I am trying to type out a VERY IMPORTANT email.

It is a given that the little will get a wild hair and punch his brother then run.  15 minutes of screaming until I have to throw cold water on them getting them apart.

It is a given that I must be the only person in this house that actually sees dog crap.

It is a given that our house is highly organized, everything is "called for" or "seat checked."

It is a given that I will never have matching socks, therefore I have trained my kids that it is cool to have unmatched socks.

It is a given that my children believe it is better to leave kitchen cabinets open, that way you can ALWAYS see everything in them.

It is a given that they will sit quietly playing on their video games UNTIL that important call from my boss comes in!

They are currently arguing over who has a bigger brain.  I think I'll just leave that one alone because I WIN!

What are some "It's A Given" for you children?

Occum's Razor - Keep It Simple Stupeed

Occum's Razor - attributed to 14th century monk, William of Occam states that the simplest answer is often the correct answer.  We, as human beings, tend to overcomplicate things to achieve an answer.

No duh.

But with boys everything gets complicated until I use Occum's Razor on my kids.

Homework - they ask me the questions as I look at math problems that seem more a work of contemporary art rather than something that actually has an answer.  After an hour of me trying to figure it out while they EXPLAIN it to me, the answer is simple.

Google that shit.

Get Outside - I can go over all the reason why they should be outdoors to play, the fresh air, the muscles in their body, the pictures of fat people of Walmart on the Internet.  But that's too complicated, it's simple.

Take away the electronics.

Clean the room - I have shown them petri dishes with a swab of the floor of their room.  Stood a towel up showing that it actually stands on its own, explained the threat of disease from the rodents attracted to the room.  But to get them to clean it?  It is simple.

Shut the door.  Once it get to a point where THEY can't stand it - it actually gets clean.

It is simple, the answer that is.  But when boys are confronted with a problem that has two solutions - one that is simple and doesn't require any work, or another that is complicated and requires removing various tools from Daddy's toolbar for use, then conveniently forgetting them somewhere.

It's simple, they choose the complicated one.

Aristotle once said, "Nature operates in the shortest way possible."

Why can't boys?

What is that smell?

Babies prepare us for the lifelong job of being a mother.  How?  They prepare our noses:

It starts as an infant - they create the most unbelievable concoctions in their diaper - things you never believed you could smell and actually survive.  This prepares us for:

The leftover crap in the car - specifically the milk they decided to spill in the backseat on your floor mats, so that smell lingers and gets stronger on a hot summer day, which prepares us for:

The lunchbox that sits at the school Lost and Found for 2 weeks with the Thermos of pasta sitting in it

having a party with the water bottle full of apple juice and the cut up pears sitting in the plastic bag.  All of which is opened and put in the dishwasher preparing us for:

The science expermient that sits in the back of the fridge for 6 months, someone's got to guess what it is or what it what, which prepares us for:

The plate of food that ran upstairs and hid itself under their bed for a week, or so they tell you.  As you clean it, it prepares you for:

The tweenie getting in the car after a hot summer day at school, immediately taking their shoes off while reminding you they forgot to wear socks, which prepares you for:

The hormonal child after an extended gym class day in 90 degrees getting into your car, rolling up the windows and turning on the air conditioner, prompting you to have the talk about deodorant, which prepares us for:

Finding a huge pile of clothes sitting on top of the washing machine and wondering if you washed them or they are in need of a wash, with a heavy sigh you know what you need to do to find out, which prepares us for:

Cleaning out the boys bathroom, including scrubbing the toilet that obviously someone has missed and didn't notice.

See it all begins with shit and ends with shit.

The nose knows.

I'm going in....

We all have skeletons in our closet, I have actual skeletons in mine.  I decided today that I was embarking on a purge of all the skeletons, which meant hitting THOSE closets.  You know the ones:

The closet in the boys room that they "clean" their room in, meaning, when I ask them to clean their room, they throw everything in the closet and shut the door - there, it's clean.

The guest room closet - yes, I've stuffed that one.  My husband calls that my "hoarder" closet.  Psst, there is a crib in there, and my youngest is 9 years old - anyone want it.

The Big Momma - that's the one we've all been throwing shit in for years.  The boys are at the point that they are even afraid to open the door, because we are all sure that just like in the movies, everything will come crashing down on us.

So I'm in the boys room.  It already smells like feet.  I'm thinking, "Should I take a shot of tequila before I open that door?  Or just put the Vapor Rub under the nose like the episode of Silence of the Lambs.  Either way, my mind is made up.

"Honey, I'm going in," I say to my husband who stands there with a large black trashbag as his hazmat suit.

Here's how to effectively clean out a kids closet room:

Start with the clothes.  Marvel at the 6month onezies you find in the back right corner, even if it looks like they have moldy pee on them.  Sort by size.  Get mad at the nice big pile of clothes your children grew out of because they were hidden in the closet.  Think about doing the smell test on what is left, then deciding it's just easier and better for your health if you just wash the huge pile.

Pull all the toys out.  Smile and remember fondly the zillions of happy meal toys you find in the closet.  Wonder how much money you've spent on Happy Meals as you notice you have several Shreks and way too many Fionas.  Put all toys in a huge trash bag that you go and hide in the guest room closet because if your husband sees all the toys you will get the lecture about spending too much money on fast food that is unhealthy.

That leaves the crap on the floor.  Pieces of toys, several pieces of petrified apple, a glass with a very questionable colored ring and of course the moldy dog poop.  Sweep this into the trash and immediately take to the trash can, the long line of ants will promptly fall you our the door and into the trash can.

Now the closet looks beautiful and I feel accomplished.  Stand wondering how long it will actually stay that way, then send sweet hubby to go and buy a lock so you can lock it closed every cleaning day.

Oh, did I tell you I found a skeleton?

Yep, an small frog skeleton that must have perished due to lack of nutrition in the astonishingly intact french fries.  We'll make stories about him and the freeze dried Alligator Head, but that's for another time.

What skeletons would you clean out of your closets, or do you have THOSE closets?

Do you have boys? Are you prepared?

I have two boys, those that live close to me already know that from the smells that come out of my home to the noise level at all times of the day.   Those cute little minions smelling of baby powder and running around your home are going to turn into tweens then teens!  Just to prepare you, I've created a list.

They believe in the natural smell of the human body and this prompts them to take off their shoes and celebrate in any place this natural occurrence.  The shoes come off with a silent snicker until I almost crash the car when the smell hits me.  I've been know to beg them to stick their feet out the window to keep the inside of my car from melting.




If they love the smell of their feet, they love the smell of their farts even better.  My boys love to share, they will wrestle one down and sit on him while holding that beautiful odor until the perfect moment.  The screaming coming out of my home is the rapture from the younger brother at this ceremony of his older brother.

Get used to the smell the breath game.  They will come up with every way of getting out of brushing their teeth, sometimes the yellow fuzz will give it away but most times you have to smell their breath.  Make sure you are sitting down while doing this, falling down hurts.

They detest detergent, they feel that clothing washed in detergent and smelling clean is not natural.  They will hide their clothes under the bed, in the closet, even wrapped up in their blankets.  The sign of a wrinkled shirt means the ride to school is happening with the windows down - rain or shine.

Dirt is their friend - it keeps you healthy to be exposed regularly to dirt they explain.  What they track in the home is just their way to keep the family healthy.

They can multitask.  A wet moldy towel on the floor can double as a mop.  If they spill their drink during the night, they can just move the towel over the puddle and wait for it to cement to the floor.  The polish can comes up with the towel was simply not supposed to be there.

Who needs soap when you have water?  Just the process of getting wet makes them feel clean, and the loss of smell that accompanies the onset of hormones means everyone except them needs to hold their nose.

Why does the dog pee in our bedroom?  Because it smells like a toilet.   Oh and throwing the wet moldy towel over does not constitute as covering it up.

If I tell you something is going to hurt, then don't try it on your brother.  Because it will hurt.  And then it will hurt you.

So here's the list I have compiled so far, as a mother just remember a few stinky hugs are better than no hugs at all.

What would you add to this list of boys?

What were you thinking? Boys logic

I like to think little boys minds are in the growing stage, that explains some of the logic they use for things they do.  Here's a few gems from my boys that make me scratch my head.

The reason the empty carton of orange juice goes back in the fridge is to remind you to pick up OJ.

The wet towel on the floor actually cleans some of the dirt away as you pick it up.

I like tuna fish, let's see if the dog likes it as much as I do.

If you can't find the dishes then technically they don't need to be cleaned.

I am dirtier than you because I am closer to the ground than you.

There is this magical place in our room, it is called the floor.  You drop clothes on in and the very next day they appear back in your drawer folded and smelling very nice.

If you can't smell it then it never happened.

Someone said the orange in Cheetos is real cheddar cheese.

What comes out of the dresser drawer, never goes back in the dresser drawer.

If I open a cabinet drawer, why waste the energy to close it?

If I hit my brother and you don't see it, then it was an accident.

Why can't you check my pockets before you wash the clothes?

If you didn't see the dog eat it, then I finished it just like I said I did.

Why brush my teeth if I'm just going to ruin them by eating breakfast?

Law of Attraction - if my brother has it, even if I threw it away, I want it back.

Girls?  Who needs them - all they do is break your crayons and cry all the time.

That shrug?  It means, "yeah I love you too, now don't make me hug you in public."


What other types of logic would you add?

When Boys Get Bored.....

It starts with the constant bang,
Something,
What is that?
Hitting the wall upstairs?

Trying to ignore it, you continue work

until
"Will you PUHHHLEASSE stop doing that?"

Voice from upstairs, "What?"

"Whatever you are doing!"

"Uh OK."  The banging continues, until you fling your reading glasses and march upstairs.

Two boys lay in bed, ball in hand.  They look over at you and then throw the ball against the wall - AGAIN.

"I asked you to stop doing that," you say.
"What?" One asks throwing the ball.
"That..." you say pointing to the ball.
"Oh, this," he holds up the ball.
You take a deep breath holding back the, "What in the hell did you think I was talking about - breathing?"  and simply grit out, "Yes, that."


Waiting a minute outside the door, making sure they actually heard you, then back downstairs hoping to concentrate.

Then more banging starts upstairs, this time elephants are moving furniture.
You hear, "STOP!"  From upstairs, and try desperately to ignore it.

You can't because it becomes a chorus of "STOP" until finally it sounds like someone's head has hit the floor.  Again, the reading glasses go down and you stop upstairs.  You fling open the door and there's your youngest lying on the floor with the older one sitting on top of him.

"Can you stop this please," you say.

They both look at you with an expression of, "What?  This?  But this is what we normally do."  The older one does not get off, you take a step toward him.  He senses something (your anger?) and gets up, the younger one gets up with a parting shot to his brother because Mom is there and this is the one time he can get away with it.

"Why don't you guys go outside," you ask.
"It's raining," they reply.
"Then find something to do," you say leaving the bedroom again.  This time much to your dismay they follow you downstairs, sitting at a computer on the couch.

"Max es un cabezazo y tira un pedo mucho," the computer says.  One starts to laugh.  The other says, "My turn."
Translation - Max is a butt head and farts a lot.

Give up now, at least nothing gets broken with Google Translate and they are actually learning Spanish.