WTF - Operation Department Store Camouflage

My husband and I love shopping together, I think.

We ended today with him saying, "What happened to you? Where did you go?"

But, let me back up to:

Operation Clothing Rack Camouflage.

My version of what happened: 

I am the rabbit of shopping, I can scan and pick through a clearance bin within ten seconds knowing exactly what I want.  My husband is the turtle, looking at each piece, checking quality, reading laundry instructions AND determining best price.

I get bored waiting while he ponders 200 different ties, so I say, "Love of my life, I'm going to walk through the women's department."

It doesn't take me long to find the perfect shirt.

I try it on, it fits perfectly and is on SALE! It only took me fifteen minutes.

I go back to the ties, where did he go?

Walking around the department store I finally find him wandering like a zombie in the perfume second.

Why is he giving me the stink eye?

"Hey sweetie, look what I found on sale! Did you find anything?"

"No," he says.

"Really? But you had plenty of time?"

His Version:

He is looking for the best bargain in the clearance rack of ties.

I sabotage his search when he turns and I'm gone.

Where did I go?

He starts walking through the department store looking for me.

Was that me ducking behind an underwear clad mannequin cackling wildly?

Maybe I put on some of the department store clothes, camouflaging myself in a clothing rack?

Maybe I'm sitting in the middle of a circular clothing rack watching him walk by?

Could I be taking a nap in the ladies dressing room?

Where did I go?

Finally after all morning looking for me, he finds me walking to him without a care in the world holding a shirt.

Will she apologize for hiding from me?

"Where have you been?" she asks.

"Looking for you. Let's go."

"Did you find anything?" She asks.

"No," he says.

"Really? You had plenty of time?"

He thinks I'm keeping a few price tags in my pocket so I can attach them to my shirt and act like a mannequin hiding from him the next time around.

My evil plan for domination is WORKING!

WTF - How to look like a smart Mom

I thought I would share with you some terms our kids are using so you too can sound like a smart mom.

Just like me!

Yas or Yaaaassss or YAAASSSSSS  Pronounced, (ya-e-ssss)

The term Yes is now replaced with Yas when there is excitement conveyed in the statement.

Yes, I made it to my biology test on time.
YAS! Kirby said she likes you!

See the difference!

"YAS! I finally fit in my Mom Jeans!!"

***

BAE  pronounced   (B-AYE)

This has now replaced Baby or Babe because it means "Before Anyone Else."

My husband calls me BAP - "Before Pabst Blue Ribbon" I know I am special.

"Wolfgang, Bae and I are at the grocery store, do you want anything?"

***

RATCHET pronounced like it sounds, (RA-T-CHET)

This terms is used when someone's looks or behaviors are less than desirable.

"You are wearing that too school, it's too RATCHET."

***

ROAST - pronounced like it sounds, (ROA-ST)

Calling someone out in public, giving them a hard time, it now has nothing to do with the chicken in the oven.

"Your Dad roasted Uncle Greg about his shirt, then realized he had the same one on!"

***

TurnT - Pronounced (TURN-HT)

Acting crazy, having, fun being social at a party.

"Book club is meeting for a glass of wine, who knows we may get TurnT!"

***

I CAN'T EVEN pronounced as (AH-CAN'T-EVUN)

Showing disbelief or expressing revulsion to a person.

"Oh my god, Mrs. ONeal wore Cheetah Leggings to yoga today, I can't even!"

***

#BLESSED pronounced (BUH-LESSED)

This actually means you are blessed.

"Found a bottle of wine behind the Captain Crunch.  #blessed"

***

ON FIRE pronounced (ON FI-RUH)

To do something great and be unstoppable

"Did you see me dancing in the carpool line to Maroon 5, I was on FIRE!"

***

#MCM or #WCM

This is where you show your BAE love on a Monday. Literally it means, "Man Crush Monday" or "Woman Crush Monday" Some may also use it for friends they hope become a BAE.

"Why didn't you LIKE the sexy picture I posted of your Dad? #MCM"

***

T-UP pronounced (TEEE-UP)

When things are going to get a little crazy, when you are planning on getting TurnT!"

"They had my wine on sale at Costco, I'm going to T-TUP at the Shabahzi house!"

***

SORRY 'BOUT IT pronounced (SOR-E BOUGH TIT)

When you are supposed to be sorry but you are not sorry. YOLO (You only live once) usually follows this.

Dad: Mom did you really throw away my 1975 velvet shirt?
Mom: Sorry Bout It

Friend: Did I really finish that bottle of wine last night?
Mom: Sorry Bout It, YOLO

Mom to teenager, "Have you become my friend on Facebook? I'm way more RATCHET on Facebook! #SORRYBOUTIT  Son?  Son?"


And finally the emojis:

I have no idea what any of them mean.

I thought the piece of shit was a Hershey kiss.

I accidentally send a syringe because I thought it was a magic wand.

Oh, and if you see the eggplant on your child's phone this is supposed to be a certain part of the male anatomy, I'll leave that up to your imagination.

You are welcome.

WTF - Operation Produce Disappearance

Plan A is working perfectly. I'm hiding ONE piece to his ratchet set. Now to work on Covert Operation B.....

Operation Produce Section Disappearance

We are walking around the grocery store and I think, "Oh, I forgot I need Cheetos."

(OK, there are some of us that do NEED Cheetos, don't judge OK?)

I do what any normal person does, goes and gets the Cheetos.

Coming back finding cart is abandoned soI push it further through the store shopping, right?.

There he is:

Me: Why are you in the dog food aisle? We don't need dog food?

Him: I was looking for you.

Me: Why?

Him: Because you were hiding from me?

Mr: Why would I hide from you?

Him: Because that is what you do when we go grocery shopping.

Me: What? I don't hide from you, I'm just grocery shopping.

Him: Oh really? Then why couldn't I find you?

Me: Um, duh, because you were in the dog food aisle and we don't need dog food?

He takes the cart continuing into the Beer Cave, I wait with him as he compares the craft beer against his PBR.

Dang! This is ten dollars more than my PBR!

Then I remember:

"I forgot to get cheese."

Repeat scenario above.

This time he sees me with the cart at the other end of the store and decides maybe if he embarrasses me about hiding behind the dog food while he shops I won't do it anymore.

Him, shouting from one end of the store to the other, "There you are! Where are you hiding now?"

I look at him, oh, two can play at this game, so I shout across the store:

"Getting your jock itch cream!

Muwahahahaha!

Guess I better make sure the will is up to date before I move onto Covert Operation C!

WTF - My Covert Operation

My husband thinks I have some type of covert operation on him, that I am trying to drive him crazy

One day at a time.

He is convinced I'm hiding

things from him. We have this wonderful conversation looking for things:

Him: Did you put away my whatchamacallit?

Me: Why would I put away your whatchamacallit? I don't even use your Whatchamacallit.

Him: But my whatchamacallit isn't where I usually put it.

Me: Did you put it somewhere else?

Him: Why would I put it somewhere else?

Me: Because you needed it there?

Him: I only need it where I usually put it and it is not there.

Me: So where is it?

Him: That's what I am asking you?

Rinse, Repeat entire conversation from the beginning.

Usually after we spend 15 minutes following each other around the house.

Him: There it is, why is my Whatchamacallit there?

Me: I don't know, did you put it there?

Him: Why would I put it there?

Me: Because that's where it is, right?

Him: You moved it, didn't you?

Me: Why would I move it? I don't even use your Whatchamacallit. Put it where you can find it the next time.

-------------------------------------------------15 minutes later----------------------------------------

Him: Have you seen my Doohickey?

Me: Isn't it over there where you usually put it?

Muwahahahah!

So far, my evil plan is working.

WTF - Adult Coloring Books

So a few friends have told me I am WAY BEHIND on the new Adult Coloring Book phase.

"I can't believe you haven't gotten one! It is so relaxing, I can feel the stress melting away."

Me? Well, I find the same thing in my good ole glass of wine and it doesn't require the amount of energy.

"But it gives you hands something to do."

But I thought you didn't go blind from, well, never mind.......

"Think about the beautiful art you're creating, it is good for your mind."

Honey, I live in my mind all day long, I won't mention the crazy shit rolling around in there, the last thing I need is to be more creative.

"You just sit with the crayons, or markers or pencils and color!"

Sure, that sounds like your house, you don't have kids. Once I open those "special" markers someone is going to steal them, while another writes "Deez Nuts" in the middle of my Mandala.

"Think of it like meditation, like yoga Savanna."

Sure, the perfect time of my day when I go through my grocery list or wonder why Justin Bieber wouldn't get back with Selena.

Then before I can properly fight the trend, someone gives me a box of pencils and a "Bull Shit Coloring Book."

Oh.

I never realized how much fun it was to color that beautiful, "F*ck You" page.

Oh, did I mention there are cute kitten pages?

Yes, I feel the stress melting away.

This is perfect. I'm just getting started on this one.

In case you need your own curse word coloring book for your mental stimulation, you can order it right here.

http://www.amazon.com/Sweary-Coloring-Book-Colouring-Kittens/dp/1522918485

Oh and F*ck you, I'm drinking my glass of wine while coloring.

WTF - Dog vs. Children

There are some mornings I actually like my dog more than my kids, not this morning - the kids won. Then I realized my kids and dog have a lot in common:

They are alike in that:

They lie around a lot, in the same position. Then they get up, stretch and lie down in a new position.

They leave shit on the floor, expecting me to clean it up.


They eat anything that comes out of a can.

They sleep a lot. I mean A LOT!

They depend on me to take them anywhere.

They are not in common when:

My dog is happy to see me, my teenager - not so much. Especially when I am early to carpool and he's talking to a girl.

My dog eats the same thing every day and doesn't complain. 

My dog listens to me the first time, wait a minute, scratch that neither listen to me.

My dog doesn't whine, my kids are masters at it.

My dog can be bribed to do anything with small amounts of food.

Then my kids win:

I still have to periodically clean shit off my dog's butt, thank god my children grew out of this.

I've never had to chase my child down the street whistling.

I've never had to cut cockleburs out of a child's hair while holding them down.

My children know that skunks spray.

My kids don't lick their butt.

My dog still takes a dump on the floor.

My kids don't eat dead stuff then come inside and puke it on the only carpeted place in the house.

My kids are easier to bathe.

I guess I've lived both worlds, having the kids, then as they demanded, getting the dog. Honestly I wouldn't live without either one.

Oh, there's a mess I need to clean up.

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?

WTF - Busted by SnapChat

My kids informed me that SnapChat is the latest and greatest thing. SnapChat is an app that lets your pictures show for 30 seconds then they disappear.

Of course, I had to see what the deal was.  I created my SnapChat account, both boys telling me I was lame naming it, "kelmelang" suggesting I should name it something more jazzy.

Luv2Rite?
BiggyMomma
HawtStfufMomma

I embarrassed them enough that they both quickly agreed kelmelang was the perfect name.

Soon after creating the account, 3 friends found me.  I had friends!

They sent me witty selfies adding text and drawings to them making me laugh!

I fixed my hair, pinched a little color in my cheeks and sent out that selfie.

Nobody responded.

My three friends sent a few more selfies to me, 

I replied with the wittiest selfie back, laughing as I added the text.

Crickets from my 3 SnapChat friends.

"Why don't my 3 friends reply to my SnapChats?" I ask techie child.

"Are you replying to their chats?" He asks, looking at my account.

"Yes, I'm just as witty back. You know I am hilarious. There is something wrong with my SnapChat."

He looks again, takes a quick picture, "Looks like it is working. Where are you sending your pictures?"

"To my story of course," I say, "It is MY story."

"Mom, nobody looks at your story. You have to send it directly back to them." He says rolling his eyes.

"Well then, why have My Story?" I ask.

I apologize to my three friends, explaining my SnapChat "fail" according to my kids now we're snap chatting away.

Which brings me to the SnapChat bust! 

One of my friends' child is not supposed to have a SnapChat account, according to his mom.

We're having coffee, and I say, "Hey you know, Dirk sent me a friend request on SnapChat."

She stops with coffee halfway to her lips, "Really? He's not supposed to have a Snap Chat account."

I look at my phone, then over to her.

"Let's send a picture of us to his SnapChat account!"

Her devious smile is my answer.

We send the picture.

Funny, I'm not friends with him anymore. Wonder why?

B-b-b-usted!

***

Here's what I am asking my children with SnapChat, you may want to ask yours.

Can someone screen shot your picture during that 30 seconds  it is up, or does SnapChat prevent this?

Do you know all the people you are chatting with? If you don't, you need to delete them.

If you were to apply for a job, what would they find researching you online?

Where do the pictures go? To a SnapChat server? How do you know they are deleted after they disappear from your phone?

I then show them the news stories about foolish children sending pictures to SnapChat thinking the recipient will keep them discreet, however, the recipient does not!

Of course, I get the rolling of the eyes, but I'm hoping that some of it sinks in, we all remember Anthony Weiner, and the phrase, "Don't tweet the meat!"

What lecture do you give? Are you savvy with the technology your children are using? Do you look at their phone periodically?

WTF - How to piss off your children edition

Don't get me wrong I love my children. But yesterday I played race car driver up and down Beech Mountain, so many times the police stopped me in front of Jackalopes asking if I was casing the joint!  Forgotten backpacks, forgotten homework, forgotten lunch boxes. I figured it was time for me to get back at them.  Here's some of my devious plans!!

Hide their chargers. Make sure you hide yours because you know they'll steal it.

Throw their clean clothes on the bed with their dirty clothes.  Never mind, they won't know the difference.  Take their favorite pair of jeans and hide them.

Make comments on all their Instagram photos. Something like, "Honey, you don't look as husky in that Throw Back Picture. Put up the one in the Husky Jeans!"

Ask them in front of their friends, "What's that song by New Direction you like?"

Tell them you left very important instructions on the counter at home.  Write them in cursive.

Screw up their language, "Wow, this lasagna is sick! Oh my God, your Dad was KILLIN IT with his bean recipe!"

Pick them up from school wearing their favorite beanie. ('cause we all know you can't fit in their jeans)

If they forget something, walk into the school in your Christmas PJs and braless sweatshirt, then wait for them!  When they act like they don't know you, wave and yell, "Sweetie!  I have your backpack!" (Guarantee they will NEVER forget it again!)

Call your son, "DUDE!"

Purposely mess up the names of their tricks, "Was that a 196 with a 327 back flip on the side bar?"  Or "Are you going to try the Beef Stroganoff with a Side of Gravy today?"

Purposely put baby food in their school lunch, things like Lunchables, tube apple sauce, Go Gurts and of course their favorite Jello pudding!  Don't forget to add the Fruitables box juice!  Better yet, put in your Prune Juice Smoothie with a note, "This will help make you regular sweetie!"

Change their ring tone to Back In Time by Pitbull or "Hopelessly Devoted by Olivia Newton John.

Send your picture to their Snapchat story. (Yeah kids, we parents know about Snapchat, we are hip!)

Turn your radio up and sing Open Arms by Journey as loud as you can as you pull up in the Carpool line.

And the best way to piss off your kids?

Tell them you signed up to chaperone the school dance

 or better yet.....

Smile and say, "Honey, we get to spend ALL DAY together! I signed up the chaperone your school field trip! Isn't that great?"

Can't you feel the love from their death stares?  I can.

What would you add?

WTF - Date Night

Moving into the realm of dating. No, not for me but my boys are now noticing girls, which means, girlfriends, which means dating.

This is all new to me.  I mean I've been out of the dating world for over 30 years, I've honestly forgotten the dating things. Especially the "before you can drive" dating thing.

So I reach back to my memories, how my Mom would drive us to the movies and drop us there, or over to "Mickey D's" or waiting out in front of the roller skating rink while I waited for the "We're gonna slow things down so go ahead and pick a partner" songs to come on.  Remember the couples skates?

Ahhh, dating.

I start with picking up the girlfriend and they've chosen a movie, but the movie doesn't start for another hour. Do we stay in the car and stare at each other for an hour?

Enter your best standby in the world of parents.

The mall.

Perfect because they can walk around, I can sit in the food court, go hit the office supply store or better yet, Dicks Sporting Goods! Coming from a very small town, it is rare I can hit a Dick's Sporting Goods or a Target!

They disappear for an hour while I shop, sip on a coffee and peruse sports bras.

One thing I did forget when doing the mall thing, it could get expensive. Don't worry honey, it was all on SALE!

Next comes dropping them off at the movie theater. Make sure your movie theater is near the mall, because you don't want to kill two hours sitting in the car reading a book. Unfortunately the theater wasn't big enough for the three of us, and I couldn't find a romantic comedy at the same time. I got lucky and found the used book store. (We're gonna need a bigger book shelf)

After the movie comes dinner, again, make sure you are in a densely populated area if possible. That way I dropped them off at Olive Garden, crossed the street and hit Bonefish, my favorite restaurant. Of course I had my binoculars with me so I could stalk their dinner date.

So I sit at the bar, with my new books, a large plate of Saucy Shrimp and Ahi Tuna in front of me,  relaxing.

Until this dude decides this single lady at the bar looking pretty happy with her books and food must be looking for a date.

"Well hey there, what are you reading?" (Is that today's pickup lines?)

 I look at him, smiling, and in my best "Mom" voice, say,

"Seriously, I'm not out looking. I'm killing time while my son is on a date."

He looks at me as if I am crazy, then I guess using the words "son" and "date" scared the poor guy because he ended up three chairs down from me, intensely concentrating on his plate of food.

So if you are taking the kids out on a date, make sure it's a relaxing date for you as well. Hit the bookstore, walk the mall, read those books and by all means, include a nice meal.

What do you do to kill the time while your "not old enough to drive" kids are out on a date?

WTF - If I woke up a man....

If I woke up with a penis,  I would be different, I mean do things differently:

I wouldn't stick it anywhere it doesn't belong.

I wouldn't brag about it to my friends.

I wouldn't be checking if it is still there on a regular basis.  Or maybe I would.  Because I could grab it whenever I want.

I wouldn't find references to it any chance I could.

I would never name it.  No Puff, the One Eyed Dragon, or Meat Hammer, or Definitely NOT Tiny Flute.

I wouldn't even use the Dicktionary, really, I had to go there.

I wouldn't be a dick about having a dick.

I wouldn't wear tight clothes accentuating what I already know.

I guess I would have a ball, or maybe two.

Of course, mine would look like the statue of David, not an over 40 elderly well, um, worm.

But then the possibilities:

I'd pee outside in the woods with out a care.  The first time I didn't have to wipe with a leaf, or worst yet a poison ivy leaf (yes, we will not go there)

I'd show everyone in my family that you can actually make the toilet if you try.

I'd probably ask for a raise.

And yes, I'd probably consume a six pack of beer and go out into the snow and write....

A poem.

What did you think?


And, in case you are wondering, if you were a man, well, ummm, you can calculate your size here

WTF - How My Elf is Lame

Everyone has that beautiful holiday tradition,  mine include drinking egg nog, making more egg nog, then wondering where all the egg nog went.

But I digress, everyone's now posting all their creative Elf on a Shelf pictures and I realized my Elf is lame.

First of all, we don't even have an Elf on a Shelf. I threw that hissy fit in the middle of the Barnes and Noble, "They want 25.95 for THAT? No way! I only have enough for a Gingerbread Spice Latte!"

So I figured we weren't elfing it, I mean I totally screwed up the Tooth Fairy, the first tooth falling out and all I had was a $20 bill in my wallet. I was taking out loans when both kids started losing teeth! Anything involving getting back up in the middle of the night, I wasn't doing it. I gave up getting up in the middle of the night when my kids did.

No way.  No how.

Then they guilted me into it. "Why don't we have an elf?" "Taylor's elf talks to Santa, no one talks to Santa about us? Why be good when no one tells Santa!" Insert two sad faces.

They had me there, why be good when there is no North Pole reporter? I had 25 days to Christmas including two weeks of school break, I didn't have enough egg nog if my kids decide they don't need to be good.  I had to come up with an "elf" plan.

I still wasn't buying the damn elf, so I made one up. "Hanz" started writing notes to my kids in the smallest handwriting possible. (Enter magnifying glass and book of santa jokes)  They had an elf, I had a way to actually make them behave during the two weeks off from school!!  They'd get out of control and I'd say, "HANZ!" watching them fall back in line.

But I can't be cute with an elf, I had to be lame. One blogger "Two Knitting Needles and 5 Beautiful Kids" shared pictures of her Elf pillow fight.

Her elf looked adorable sleeping in a tissue box with cotton balls for pillows.
I short sheeted their beds.

She shared pictures of a marshmallow fight, complete with a score board (a score board!).
I put green dye with glitter in the toilet telling them it was elf pee and poop.

She put candy under their pillow.
I put a real piece of Kingsford Coal.  (By the way, it's hard to get that shit out of sheets)
****that worked for a few days, they were actually good.

She shared that their elf mixed up their lunches, jumbling everything.
I put a panty liner in each lunch box.

She shared a picture of Elf by the Gingerbread house. decorating it while they sleep.
I put him on the liquor cabinet. (Both kids and hubby got a kick out of that.)

Her sweet little elf got married and had a baby.
I thought about having the talk with the kids about how you can't get married AND have a baby during the 30 days leading to Christmas but let that one go.
So, our elf adopted a stuffed mouse ornament from the tree.

So, there you have it. I may be lame but I think a bourbon drinking, note writing, trickster is much more fun than any other elf.

Now I've got to go and find that egg nog recipe again, we're still counting the days until Christmas.

Here's my Elf on a Shelf!

WTF - Gingerbread House Style

Every year, like childbirth, I forget how much I hate putting together the Gingerbread House. 

Here is the scenario in our home:

Buy the Gingerbread house kit because who has time to bake all those pieces.
Leave it on the floor.
The dog gets into it, nibbles the pieces.
Get pissed.

Go out and buy another Gingerbread Kit because it is a Christmas tradition dammit.
Put it on top of the refrigerator. Forget about it.
Three days before Christmas remember it is there.
Get pissed.

Invite a few friends because you need other Moms sharing the wine and the misery of putting together the house.

Open the box, everyone gets excited as all the candy pieces fall out. 
Some of the gumdrops seem a little stale.
Kids descend on the candy like locusts, eating what they can reach.
Get pissed, slap away little hands, pour a glass of wine.

Forgot you were supposed to make the icing and put the house together ahead of time.
Realize how much fun it is for 6 kids crowding around you as you try piecing the house together.
The house falls down.
Kids groan, reach for candy.
Get pissed, drink more wine.

Kids wreck the your home as you sweat getting the Gingerbread house to stand.
Finally the house stands, with great fanfare tell the kids they can decorate it.
There are 2 gum drops and only peppermints left, they ate the rest of the stuff. 
The kids fight over who gets the last two gumdrops.
One licks both of the gumdrops, effectively claiming them.
The other falls backwards on their chair.
The Gingerbread house falls down again.
Get pissed, open a second bottle of wine.

Pull out the candy you saved for their stockings.
Jerry-rig the pieces of the house together with staples, and toothpicks.
The kids have lost interest in decorating the house, they are now wrestling

Let the kids eat the rest of the icing, and the candy you pulled out.
Drink wine with your friends wondering why the kids are going crazy.

Finally feed the rest of the house to the dog, something you should have done in the first place.

WTF - Laundry Edition

I always quote Robert Frost during Laundry Day:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

Mine is a little different, I smile and say:

Dirty Clothes are not lovely, but they are deep.

And I have promises to keep,

And Piles to go before I sleep,

And Piles to go before I sleep.

I realized there are two different versions to doing the laundry.

Mom's Guide to Laundry:

Put the Vics Petroleum Jelly under your nose to cut the smell.

Go into each room picking up all the clothes off the floor.

One damp because the dog though, well if it is there then I must pee on it.

Separate everything out into Whites, Colors and Darks.

Wash Whites on Hot, with a cup of bleach.

Wash colors on Warm.

Wash Darks on Cold.

Pull each piece from the washing machine, fluff before putting in the dryer, this helps them dry quicker.

Pull everything out, getting pissed off that every single T-shirt is inside out.

Fold all the clothes.

Set them on beds for your angelic children to put away.

Easy right?

Kids Guide To Laundry.

Make sure everything is inside out. 

You underwear belongs still attached to your pants which are inside out.

Socks must be in tight balls, with several still snuggling under the covers of your bed.

Stuff as much as you can into the washer.  Hot? Cold? Warm? They are all clothes!!

Do not empty pockets, wash two chap sticks, one pack of Kleenex and a Jolly Rancher Candy.

Don't check anything coming out of the wash, pull it all in one big lump and stuff in the dryer.

Turn the dryer on the hottest setting because this will dry the clothes faster.

Pull everything out of the dryer.

Throw on your bed.

Wonder why you have oil stains on your jeans until you find empty Chapstick containers.

Move everything to the floor when you go to bed.

Figure if it is on the floor, then it's dirty.

Rinse, repeat.

Of course, for those Frost lovers, here's my version of the entire poem:

Whose clothes are these I think I know.   

I bought at Recess a week ago;   

They do not wear them, instead   

Drop them to the floor, beside the bed.   

As a Mom, I must think it queer   

Finding clothes on the floor when a hamper is near   

Between the bed and closet door   

That extra step must be a chore.   

Picking up a shirt, I give it a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

I swear I just laundered this piece a day ago   

I never saw a child wear it tho.   

Dirty Clothes are not lovely, but they are deep.

And I have promises to keep,

And Piles to go before I sleep,

And Piles to go before I sleep.

Honey, obviously they are your kids

There are certain times I quietly back away saying, "Honey, they are all yours."

Because obviously they didn't get it from me.

The love affair with Napoleon Dynamite, Hot Rod and Nacho Libre. It is sad that I can quote lines from these movies, even copying the dance from Napoleon. But to be fair, they can also quote lines from Maleficent, Jaws and Lord of the Rings.

The poop and fart jokes:
I honestly don't care when someone says, "but." But apparently this is cause for outrageous hilarity when it comes to my children. They don't get that from me.

Those Dad Proud moments:
When you can burp and say a word, especially "Grilled Cheese Sandwich"
When you come running out of the bathroom saying, "You gotta see this!"

The ability to not control their thoughts in public. Like standing in line in the grocery store and some poor soul "passes gas."  It starts with them looking at me, I'm busy holding my breath pretending nothing is going on.
They don't let it go from there, then lean close, whispering, "DO YOU SMELL THAT? Someone just LET one!"
When I still don't acknowledge this, they start looking around at all the other people standing in line, rolling their eyes, with a look saying, "Don't you smell that?"
Finally dramatically holding their noses.
They DO NOT get that from me.

The "sounded like a good idea" moments.
Jumping over a pole and almost skimming off the skin of their balls.
Putting the ladder next to the trampoline so they get a bigger bounce.
Waiting behind the couch, to head lock your brother dragging him across the floor.
Sitting on your brother and farting.

Sitting and watching the romantic comedy, I sigh but they hem and haw over every kiss, or explaining how scientifically impossible it is to have explosions in space due to lack of oxygen.

Walking around in their underwear, then completely freaking out when I do it.

Yes, I gave them their good looks and smarts, they obviously got all of the above from you.

WTF - My Fall To-Do List vs. Reality

In case you haven't noticed, it's Fall Ya'll!  And in order for my family to have the proper fall experience, I've made my bucket list.  Insert long family sigh here, because I've now moved from the Summer Nazi to the Fall Nazi.

Create your bucket list of fall activities they say.

It will be fun, they say.

1.  Apple Picking and Cider -  skipping through the orchards as a family, holding hands commenting on the beautiful fall colors.

Reality - arguing to the orchard.  Someone getting stung by a bee because of all the rotten apples under the trees, the other moaning about the awful smell of rotten apples, arguing on the way home.

2.  Go on a hayride - beautiful fall day, singing Kumbaya riding together as a family.

Reality - sitting on hay bales remembering how stray pieces of hay actually can puncture through your pants to the Haunted Maze,  getting the shit scared out of me by some freaky clown, chased by dudes with chainsaws, sitting on the uncomfortable hayride back to your car.  Oh, and paying big bucks for the experience.

3.  Eat Pumpkin Pie - a touch of pumpkin pie to celebrate the season.

Reality - the whole pumpkin pie, 1,264 Pumpkin Spice Lattes, Pumpkin bread, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin blonde brownies, pumpkin gnocchi, oh and of course, pumpkin beer. Why are my jeans tight?

4. Go on a nature walk - ride the Blue Ridge Parkway getting the perfect Instagram picture of the leaves.

Reality - kids arguing in the car, no one wanting to walk UP the trail because that's work. The dog puking in the car from all the turns, finally doing it by myself taking a selfie for Instagram.

5.  Carve a Pumpkin. Find beautiful carving templates on Pinterest, buy special carving tools including a drill bit for detail, buy 4 pumpkins because you want to "theme" your carvings and each family member should carve their own pumpkin.

Reality - two pumpkins get stolen by the bears.  One falls off the porch smashing, the last is lucky getting two triangle eyes, one triangle nose, and some type of toothless mouth, delete Pinterest board you created because it makes you feel lame.

6. Wood burning fire with s'mores,  hot chocolate and good times.

Reality - 16 firestarters used creating the fires. One child almost setting the other on fire holding the flaming marshmallow to close to his hair.  No one likes burnt marshmallows.  Realizing I ate most of the chocolate that day so we are rationing the s'mores. Everyone complaining about the smoke of the fire, finally retiring inside because it is too cold.

7. Make Caramel Apples from Orchard Visit (see #1) bonding time in the kitchen melting caramel, picking out types of nuts making a sweet treat we sit around the table eating and talking.

Reality - Mom ate all the caramel.  Apples are better for you without candy on them.

Finally, that Thanksgiving month where you are supposed to post every day what you are thankful for, a lesson learning gratitude and that what you have is enough.

Reality - Running out of things to say after Day 10.

What's your Fall Bucket List?  Do things ever go as planned?

WTF - To Think I Used To Care.....

How do you know you've matured as a Mom?  Here's some good indications:

Your son walks by saying, "I can't remember the last time I showered." Rather than freaking out you think, "That's why there hasn't been so much laundry."

I now use my skill at changing dates on licenses in college to changing expiration dates on food in my fridge because we all know they are SELL BY dates, you still have at least 3 months after that.

I stopped buying anything white when my children were born. Because the process of bleaching and cleaning it much more complicated than throwing everything in together with two slabs of softener.

I don't think it is strange watching my son walk around the house with the Pepsi box on his head.  It is keeping him busy. Priorities.

I don't think it is creepy finding small smiling tooth boxes in my car with teeth still in them.  This is the staging area until I finally remember they are there and move them to another staging area in the house.

My Identa-Kid for both kids is from 2009.  Not because that is the only picture of them smiling, but that was the last time I remembered sending the money in on time.

I am very good at closing doors on problems.  Specifically both of my boys' rooms and their bathroom.  

I am convinced Lunchables are not just for Lunch any more.

When giving my son instructions, I must be precise.  "Unload the laundry from the washer into the dryer. Put the pile of crap in front of the washer in the washer.  ADD detergent (the blue bottle up top)  Close the doors.                           Oh, an TURN BOTH washer and dryer on."  (Paid for omitting that last instruction once)

I always keep a toothbrush, toothpaste and bottle of water in my car.  That's for me.  Are you kidding, I'd never let them touch that, you don't know where their teeth have been.

Finally, I am wondering if I should just throw away their baby books.  They can remember how happy and wonderful their childhood was, rather than noticing how lame their Mom was.......

But I kept everyone alive, that's an accomplishment?

Oh, who counts the errant plant!

WTF Cheers to us non Helicopter Moms

It is amazing how quickly you can go from front and center of Mom Central to the woman in the yoga pants, with the meth looking hairdo, throwing your kids out of the car in the carpool line screaming,

"Run you mothers!  RUUUUNNNNN!"

I do stop, picking up the crap including a few moldy Happy Meal toys they kicked out of the car sprinting for the closing door.  I'm not a litterer.

For some reason, I can make it to the school much quicker than the other Moms I talk to in the carpool line.  Or maybe they are politely telling me I am a terrible driver.

There are helicopter Moms, then there are Moms like me:

I'm that one finding out about the fundraiser, when my son comes home saying everyone got the little rubber ducky, or monkey, or polar bear or whatever it was but me.

I'm like.

"There was a fundraiser?  You never gave me the information?"

Of course the little shit, pulls the envelope out of the big pile of recycling in the pantry.

I read it over.

Oh please, there is no way all those other parents sold $216.27 dollars worth of shit for the little plastic animal necklace, let alone that kid actually collecting all 7!

They paid off the school.  How do I know? Because I was guilty enough one year doing it. I filled out the student fundraising sheet with a bunch of names and addresses, keeping all 16 tubs of cookie dough for myself. Did the school care?  Not one bit!  How did I know?  I put names like

Chris P. Bacon
Ima Burnbutts
Bob Roberts
Ura Johnson
Not a single family member because, hey, some are in the same school district, I could get outed by the chairman of the fundraising committee saying to my sister in law, "Did you enjoy the white chocolate macadamia nut cookie dough?"

The school expects that from us lame parents. But hey, they get their money, I gain about 15 pounds eating cookie dough raw (because that's what I do) and we are all happy.

Now, I'm on duty for the school dance, my son cheerfully explains to me. "You are a chaperone!"

Oh God.  A dance, wasn't he learning to walk yesterday? Putting the ruler between the boy and girl dancing? (Really, I grew up in Catholic School, your school didn't do this?)

When is the dance?  I ask.
I don't know, he replied. An apple not too far from the tree.

So I turn to Google.  Did you know the Halloween Dance at my son's school was on the 1st in 2012, and again on the 31st in 2013?  I can find every date except for 2015.  I'm trying really hard not being  that Mom.

"So, when is the school dance?" I write to the teacher.
"Did you not see the flyer, the dance RSVP was due two days ago." The teacher replies.
"Can I bribe you with some cookie dough to sneak him in?" I ask.

Luckily, I didn't procrastinate enough, the school replied they don't have a date yet.

Whew!  I'm one step ahead of the game.

Might as well celebrate with some cookie dough.

Disclaimer: Don't mention the cookie dough to my kids. They may realize some of it is expired and we still have 2 tubs to go.

WTF - Pepe le Pew Part Deux

How long was the little bugger waiting in the backyard?

Did he know that I was on duty for carpool today?

Was he laughing as I let the dog out at 6 o'clock in the morning?

Because as I was working on packing lunches, a smell hit my nose.

Is that what I think it is?

Why is it so powerful?

It is that type of smell grabbing you by the throat, slapping you a few times , then heading off to do the same thing to your Momma.

"Where's the dog?" I yell down to kids. Silence makes me feel a real dread. I don't like dread at 615 in the morning.

Opening the door, the dog saunters in, lucky in that A, she is cute, and B, my nose is stopped up due to allergies.

Not to be.

That smell, the one that brings tears to your eyes.  Yes, she had that smell.

Shawnee found Pepe Le Pew in the yard coming back with that beautiful mountain perfume.

She was proud.  So proud of her smell that she decides us chasing her around the house is much more fun than chasing the skunk 15 minutes earlier, that maybe we are jealous of her smell, wanting to rub it off on us.

It is pandemonium chasing her through the house.  Downstairs, then back up stairs before pinning her in the kitchen.  She seems to find every piece of cloth in the house on her way, rubbing her skunkified body all over it. Bed, couch, bed, bed, shower curtain.

But we still had school, what to do?

Dog thrown in the garage, kids thrown in the car, lunch thrown in the boxes.  Out the door.

We pick up carpool and the first words out of the kid's mouth, "What is that smell?"

Pepe?  Did you follow us? I look around nervously. Then I realize it is me.

Funny after chasing the dog around the house, you get used to skunk smell, that for a second I'm thinking, "Well it doesn't smell THAT bad."

I drop everyone off at school marveling that I made it on time despite the obstacles in my way.  I'm heading back home when my phone beeps,

"Mom, they are calling me skunk boy at school. I smell like skunk."

Pepe, you got your revenge on the teenager, now didn't you?  What to do?  "I'll be right back to pick you up."

I take him home for a shower and change of clothes, figuring by the time I take him all the way back to school, I'd just take a nap in the parking lot before bringing him back home again.

He helps me with cleaning the house, his phone rings, he disappears, coming out a few minutes later.

"My girlfriend broke up with me."

I stop what I am doing because despite the perpetual smell in the house, this really stinks.

I am grateful that he is home when all this goes down. For a second, I am glad that Pepe skunked my pup, because break ups don't go well with third and fourth period in High School.  I realize I am not good with this teenage boy stuff and have a long road ahead of me.

In case you are wondering, Febreeze works well when a skunked dog decides jumping across your bed is a good idea. Wash the dog with Dawn dishwashing detergent, baking soda and hydrogen peroxide rather than tomato juice - save that for the Bloody Mary.

Finally, picking up the second child from Middle School, I am grateful Pepe didn't get his skunk revenge,  listening to my child telling you how funny everyone telling him he stunk,  calling him "Pepe Le Pew." What a difference hormones make.....

You know what, I think I'll save the tomato juice in case Pepe comes back, skip the Bloody Mary and call it a day.

Oh, did I mention Pepe left me a nice gift on the front steps of my house. With all the other smells coming out of my house, I can safely say skunk shit doesn't stink.

Alone Time - What?

The transition from homeschool back to public school did not come without a caveat.

Sure this getting up at 5am is killing me, but someone has to do it.

Sure, getting them to bed early every night is a battle. I fixed it, I decorated their rooms looking like classrooms, they fall asleep the minute they walk in them.

Sure, I'm making lunches EVERY single day, sometimes throwing a cheese stick and apple in there.



Sure, I'm dealing with the extra time in the mirror for my eldest because there are GIRLS at school.

But guess what?

I drop them off it's, it's

quiet.

Like, no one complaining about my Classic Rock station (since when did all my childhood songs end up on the Classic Rock station?  About the same time all my childhood toys end up in the antique store)

No fighting over the front seat.

No dueling songs on phones.

Silence.

At first it was unnerving, I wasn't used to conversations with myself again. I wasn't used to thinking uninterrupted. I wasn't used to going to the bathroom with the door open and not worrying about someone screaming.

I was supposed to miss them, right?

Now I feel guilty.

Making myself feel better involved:

A hot cup of coffee consumed before it got cold while reading the morning paper.
A trip to the bathroom without someone banging on the door.
A hot shower long enough setting off the alarms at the local reservoir.
Reading People Magazine on the toilet without someone walking in on me.
Walking around the house naked because I can. (Do not drop by for coffee before 9am)
Breakfast of Salted Caramel Dark Chocolate.
Actually applying makeup.

I think I could get used to this. I have to, there's another 165 days left in the school year.

What do you do with your "alone" time?  Do you have "alone" time?