WTF - I am a Rockstar - I just didn't know it!

I never realized as a Mom, I lived the life of a rockstar!  And you do to!!  Here's a glimpse into my Rockstar days!

Daily, someone throws underwear at me.

I do the same thing, day after day, week after week.

I am on an endless road trip with a car stuffed full of people.

My name is always screamed, over and over and over.

Someone is always flicking a lighter around me.

I am always finding other peoples clothes littering my floor, along with a pair of underwear.

I am never alone. Even in the toilet.

My day is spent constantly screaming.

There is always a new instrument in my house.

The room is trashed within 5 minutes of walking through the door. And of course there is underwear on the floor.

There's always someone in my entourage insisting no Green Skittles, or "Why didn't you get the Moon Pies like I asked?"

Sometimes I can lose a good portion of my day.

There is always a surprise in my bed every morning.

Weekend nights are spent figuring out how to entertain room full of crazy kids, usually shouting my name!

Someone is always pulling at my clothes.

My day ends with alcohol, messy hair and exhaustion.

There is always some point in my day where I stop, asking myself, "Am I tripping?  Did I really just see that?"

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.

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?

Snowy Day in November

I am one of those crazy runners, no matter what the weather (for the most part) I'm still out there getting my miles in.  Today was no exception because it was snowing.  I wasn't missing this one, I was going for my run.  I love running in the snow, from Lake effect living in Cleveland, to Nor'easters living in Swampscott Mass to the OH MY GOD we got 1 inch of Winston Salem, NC.  On Beech Mountain the snow started at midnight, I just sat at the window watching the fat, wet, flakes come down.

I waited until the temperature got closer to above freezing, then put on my layers and made it out into the snow.  There is nothing like it.

Everything is quieter when running in the snow.  Even your footsteps are muffled.
Everything looks cleaner when covered in white, today the snow clung to all the branches of the trees making them look like tall snowmen.
There is a peace in running outside your element, in changing your gate because you are slipping a little bit, and pulling off the gator taking a deep breath of the cold, moist air.

I found gratitude in this run because as my feet hit the trail, I thought of those who could not run.  I thought of a few Thanksgivings back when I wondered why my mother couldn't keep up on our "walks" like she used to, both of us trudging through the snow.  She had surgery two weeks later finding out there was a brain tumor, so yes, her gate had changed, she was dragging a foot.  I remember talking during that walk, about nothing in particular, but the snow made our conversation sound like the only thing on that street, muffling out all the normal noises so we just heard each other.    We walked the morning before the busy Thanksgiving holiday, enjoying the quiet, the solitude of doing what everyone else in the house thought was crazy.

As I started up my hill, I thought about how thankful I am for my health.  That I can get out in the craziest of weather and still exercise and love it.  That I may be getting older and much of my times are getting slower, but I am moving to the point of just getting out there means I won.

My thoughtful gratitude was interrupted when a pickup truck slowed down and stopped next to me as I was climbing the hill.

"Are you all right?"  A little old man asked from the pickup truck.
I look at him, "Yes, I'm just running."

And it occurred to me that either I was:
A.  Crazy for running out in this weather, or
B.  I really did look that bad running up that hill.

How to talk Halloween

In case anyone didn't know, we love Halloween.  But as usual, someone overbooked my schedule and we didn't get the bulk of Halloween decorations up until today.  Luckily Halloween is still tomorrow, so we're cool.  I thought I would share some of our conversation while decorating today.


We started talking costumes.  "So I'm going to put on a Ghillie suit and scare people before they get to the house."

"Honey, a Ghillie suit is supposed to hide you from an animal hunting.  I think any normal person would recognize a person there."

"Oh, then I'll just dig a big ditch and hide in there."

"You go right ahead baby."

Second child, "Mom I want to scare people but I want candy too.  What do I do?"

"You could scare everyone away from our house, then you can keep all the candy for yourself.  Your brother has braces and can't eat any of it."

*wicked smile.

Then we have the conversations about decorating.  Anyone listening in would be convinced that serial killers live in our house:

"I think the eyeballs should go in the bathroom.  No one will expect them there."

"Will people see the bones if they are scattered around the front yard?"

"I'm thinking a skull here, then the crazy skull at the top of the steps, they will never know what hit them."

"So I can hide behind this tree and try to kill them before the get to the front yard, right?"

"Does blood come out of clothes?"

"Grab them before they get the candy, that is the best way to do it."

"Do not spit blood on the little kids, OK?"

"I think brains, guts and chicken nuggets sounds great!"

"The machete works much better than the knife."

"Pull my finger."

OK, maybe the last one isn't really Halloween, but it is the first TRICK so I don't have to give him a treat.  I feel sorry for the innocent little Elsas coming to the Melang house, with all the decorations my children have set up, it will be like walking the gauntlet.  Who will be brave enough to actually make it to the candy?

Am I A Serial Killer?

Lately, the latest quiz sent over from all my bloody internet friends is determining whether or not I am serial killer.

My first thought is, hmmm, did they think, "Oh, we NEED to send Kelly this!"

And if so, why?




Sure I hold my Oreo cookies gleefully under the milk until the bubbles cease.
I do have an amazing collection of knives along with plenty of the reusable grocery bags to hide the body.  (What?  You don't collect reusable grocery bags too?)

There are a few times I've questioned whether or not I am related to Dexter, so I thought it would be a good idea to take the test.  Just to make things more complicated, my quiz is

Are you a sociopath, murder or serial killer

Oh goodness, what if I am all three.

The quiz starts with the usual questions.  Then I get hit with the hard one:  What is your favorite color?

Of course Kelly green is not listed.  Does this mean I am a serial killer?  Why is green not listed, did Hitler love the color green?  Or Gacy?  I have to choose something else, what if choosing red makes me a serial killer and yellow only a sociopath?  I'm going to choose Other.

What did I have for breakfast?  Granola, of course.  Why is one of the choices dog or cat food?  Is that the food of serial killers?

If your best friend shows up at your door panicking with a dead body what do you do?  Of course, I'd want to see who it was (did I know them) then I'd grab my trusty shovel and Wellingtons.  Oh wait, what about that bathtub full of lime in my basement?

More trick questions.  How many times did you watch American Psycho?  Once of course, there was much more information on how to hide a body on Criminal Minds than American Psycho.

How would you off someone?  I was surprised this question had the answer of bomb but not poison.  We must think about logistics here.

Do you believe in God?  Well of course I do but they are trying to throw me off with the answer of I believe in whiskey.  Which is true but only serial killers would get distracted like that, not me.

Finally, the proverbial question:  Why did the chicken cross the road?  My only answer, I like roast chicken.

As it ticked my results, I wondered what amount of therapy would I need if I truly am a serial killer.  When would I go for my first kill?

Whew!!

I am only 2% serial killer.

I am 60% boring, average person.
21% Murderer
and finally, only 7% Maniac

So, if I invite you to dinner, don't panic.  There's only a 30% chance I'm putting the rat poison in the chili, because I really want to see how that bathtub full of lime will work.

Are you worried you are a sociopath, murderer or serial killer?

Click http://www.gotoquiz.com/am_i_a_sociopath_serial_killer_or_murderer

PS.  This test had a disclaimer for Mothers, it fully understands that the urge to kill our children at certain times is completely normal and does make us a serial killer, sociopath or murderer.

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 a Given - the Fair Edition

I don't care where you live, there's some type of fair that comes to town once a year.  And like lemmings over the cliff, you go every year, wondering half way through creating the memory, why you do it.  Because if you ever decide to go to the fair, there's quite a few givens.



Your hands will feel sticky the minute your fair admission ticket leaves your hand.
They will feel sticky the entire time you are at the fair.
Then you will touch something (the handle of a ride, the doorknob of the restroom, the counter of the Pig Butt on a Stick vendor) and encounter something wet.
Now they are wet AND sticky.

At this moment, something on your body will itch.
Most likely eye, making you wonder about pink eye.
Or hair, making you freak about lice.
or skin making you worry about leprosy.

I think the fair sends out smoke signals when it comes to town because
there's a lot of people here I swear I never saw before
that shouldn't be wearing that whatever

they think is covering up their whatever
because it is not working.

Who are these people?
Many of them are breeding more fair goers of the future, getting them hooked on the candy apples, the cotton candy and the kettle corn.
Do they not understand that walking around the fair with a gigantic turkey leg hanging from your mouth is NOT sexy?
Honestly, there are a few that could safely enter the "Strange Freaks" show of the fair and be detained because they thought they were part of the show.
Not to mention the employees of the fair, I hope someone is doing background checks on these people because if you opened the dictionary to serial killer, a few pictures may look familiar.

So I am not sure what scared me more:
Everything you touch at the fair is sticky.
The unknown substance on the wire cage of the ride you're getting ready to get on.
The smell of sweat in another ride as the door closes and you realize you have no point of the horizon as it starts going around.
How easily a fresh made doughnut can disappear - after a pretzel, a box of popcorn, a funnel cake, two large sweet teas.
And after all that food you're still eyeing the fried Oreos, thinking, "Maybe?"
That you have to tip the restroom lady even if the surfaces in the restroom are STICKY?
And girlfriend, you're JUICY shirt, obviously two sizes too small with the jeggings is fodder for the Haunted House which was pretty lame and needed sprucing up anyway.

As we walk out of the fair, we all sigh at the new memory, move a little bit of extra fat around and grab for the hand sanitizer as we get in the car.

Ahhh, off the hook for another year.  Remember, nothing good happens at the Fair.

When was the last time

I am home with my boys pretty much twenty four seven, when I locked myself in the bathroom for a few seconds of peace I wondered.

When was the last time:

I actually fit into my jeans without laying on my back.  Was it before Moe's opened in Winston Salem but after?  Because that could be the culprit.

When did red wine stain my teeth, or when did I actually notice it.  Have I been walking around looking like I below on the street for years?

When was the last time I actually looked forward to putting on a bra?  Because every day I actually look forward to tearing one off and chasing my kids with it as they yell, EWWWW!

When did my sh*t not stink?  Because all of a sudden I'm having hot flashes in the bathroom and they are not the closing in on 50 kind of hot flashes.

When did stretchy pants become my go to apparel?  When I found that paired with the baby doll top I could actually be comfortable and look like a, well, a fat baby doll?

When did I write that blog post?  I don't remember writing it but it is pretty darn funny.

When was the last time someone liked something I cooked?  Oh, that again, was before I had kids.

When was the last time I didn't have to put the toilet seat down?  I got nothing on this one.

When did running turn into work?  When it became my way of weight control rather than enjoying the scenery.

When did the word "Stop" take on a new meaning?  When my kids started using it 1567 times a day and then I catch myself yelling, "STOP!" for them TO STOP!

When was the last time I had a hyper organized, productive day?  Oh yeah, that was 13 years ago before my first child was born.

When did I learn there are so many words, sayings, and emotions that have to do with farting?  When I had boys.

When will I ever learn?

Never.

Texting - the Mom Edition

Since I am no stranger to my iPhone, and I thought I've become pretty savvy with texting, thought I would share my Momisms when it comes to texting.....

WTF - Wow, that's fantastic.
WHTF, Wow honey, that's fantastic.


DYHM - Did you hear me?
DYHM :-?  Did you hear me AGAIN?

ALBTM - A little bird told me.  As in, ALBTM WTF!

WUYFCH - Wait until you father comes home!

:-( )   You're not wearing that to school, stop sending out selfie pictures.

BC Because as in BCISS Because I said so.  :-()  BCISS

(^^)   Did you brush your teeth?

MILF - mother I'd like to friend

( *  * )  I't going to snow today

TAIN  - The answer is no.

IDK - I-denta-Kid  Awful picture on IDK, (^^)

LOL - Little Old Lady.  Met a MILF she's LOL

JB  - Just because.

CYA - See Ya!  or some Moms say Cover Your Assets

JBISS - Just because I said so  as in.  JBISS WUYFCH

E - E  - enough is enough

FML - Family Medical Leave - as in, Did you FML?

1....2....3   :-(  I'm going to give you to the count of three.....

SAM  - stop annoying me!

ROFL - Reaching Our For Love as in WTF ROFL!

ILY - you should know this one.


Do you have any new Momism texting Terms?

WTF - Things I'd Like To Hear

Most of my days are full of listening to things I don't want to hear, the elephant thuds of boys footsteps through the house, the washing machine giving up the ghost, the bright ideas of boys to the husband wanting to explain the basics of organizing the Kitchen pantry.  Just for once, here's a few things I'd LOVE to hear:

"Did you read the news story, they've developed a pill that kills all the fat in wine.  It's called WineNo"

"Oh wait Mom, why don't you relax while my brother and I read you some poetry."

My RunKeeper App, "Oh wait I was wrong, I thought you were on mile 12 but you are actually at mile 13.1."

"I just read your blog.  Yes, I actually read it.  You know, a lot of people read your blog."

"Did you read there is a low cost permanent solution to billy goat hairs on the chinney chin chin?"


"Don't worry Mom, I'm sure I'll find someone to carpool with to all the football practices, you should't waste all that gas."

"Dinner?  Don't worry about it, we're not hungry."

"Hey look, it is actually 5 o'clock."

"Mrs. Melang, did you notice the wine was on sale?

"Mom, I heard everything you said, I'm going to go do it right now."

"We're going on a long drive?  Let me go to the bathroom first."

"Here Mom, here's your charger, I don't need it anymore."

"Did the dog take a crap on the floor?  Let me go ahead and clean that up."

"I'm tired of playing games on my phone all the time, I think I will read a book."

"That dress you wore in high school?  It fits you perfectly now."

And the best one?

"My brother and I have decided to get along.  Why cause so trouble?

What would you like to hear if you had the perfect day?

WTF - Sibling Edition

Recently I watch my two sons get into a WWF showdown type of smack down over the last jawbreaker.  I also watched several people within sighting distance watch my two sons in horror.  So I'm asking, am I raising serial killers or when you were a kid did you:

Sibling Game Playing:

Older:  "Where's going to play the pillow fight game."

Younger, "Yay, that sounds like fun."

Older, "OK, you hit me first with your pillow."

Younger, "OK."  Light tap in brother's face.

Older then proceeds to smack the crap out of the younger.

Older, "OK, now it's your turn again."

Younger, "Uhhhh."

I played the "Slap" game with my siblings.  This was a game in the car where we would slap each other's exposed thighs and who ever screamed lost.  Mainly because this was on long car rides and the child screaming not only lost but got the car pulled over and well, you know what came next.

Sibling Sharing.

Older:  "There's one brownie left.  Do you want it?"  Proceeds to spit on it.

Younger, "Uh, no thanks."

Sibling exercise program

Younger goes and flicks (we called it plucks) the Older's head.  He then runs as fast as he can from mad chasing sibling until he is worn out and caught.  Wrestling then ensues.

Bathroom Rules:

When someone has to go to the bathroom, some like the World Championship 100 foot race ensues, whoever gets in their first, then locks and door and hangs out-for a very long time.

Sibling Boundaries

If sharing a room, the masking tape goes down the middle.  The younger has one side, the older then says, "If you cross into my territory then I'll have to beat you up/"

The younger looks around at how the room is divided, "But I have to cross your territory to get out?"

The older smiles.

Sibling Negotiation

Younger nursing a goose bump on his head.

Older: "You don't need to tell Mom, you are fine."

Younger, "But I'm picking rocks out of my head. Why did you push me down the hill on the tricycle."

Older, "It's your fault.  You didn't hold on.  I'm going to tell on you."

Younger, pauses.  "Oh OK, I won't tell.  I don't want to get into trouble."

Finally one of my favorites:

The older is finally enjoying a quiet moment on the couch, watching Spongebob, of course.

The younger come and sits next to him.  

Doesn't watch the TV, just stares at him.

I watch from the kitchen mesmerized.

The older ignores the younger, continues to watch the television.  The younger doesn't move.

The tension in the room increases.

The younger is frozen, like a statue, watching the older.

The older finally can't take it anymore and looks at his brother.

All the younger does is smile.

The older then proceeds to wrestle with him.

When I am asked later by the younger why his brother wrestled him, I reply, "You're really asking?

Oh, the joys of family.  Hopefully the therapy bills won't be too expensive for both them AND me.

Water Aerobics or Strapping a Noodle between your legs on purpose

I had the inclination to go and try water aerobics.  To be honest when I went to swim laps, I saw this instructor (WOAH) teaching the class.  And Every woman was talking in the locker room afterwards (naked) about what a GOOD instructor HE was.  I had to see what all this water aerobics stuff was about.

I show up in my bathing suit.  I am the youngest person at this class by far.  And that's not a bad thing.

I'm standing by the pool wondering what I do next when, a woman floats by me riding the noodle better than John Wayne.

"Grab a noodle honey, stick in between your legs and get in the water."

I am officially without words for that one.  But I go and grab a noodle, slide it gently between my legs (oh for pete's sake get your mind out of the gutter and back in the pool) and walk into the pool.

Did you know there is an art to righting yourself while riding a noodle in the pool?  Me neither as I slipped a little sideways as I walk down the steps and slip, my face coming up way too close to the crotch of the ONLY guy getting in the water for his water aerobics class.  I knew then to do this class I had to master the noodle immediately.  (oh for pete's sake back in the gutter again?  Get back in the pool!)

We are all floating there, looking at each other.  Waiting.  For something.

"It's 9 o'clock, where is the instructor.  The class starts at 9 o'clock.  Where is she."


Picture some women named Shirley or Gladys, or Mabel.  With a thick New York accent, in a blue tennis skirt style bikini, floating by me in the pool.

"We're not getting any younger here.  I could be dead by the time she gets here."

I'm thinking it is really hard to take her seriously as she is there riding a noodle like Dale Evans (don't know her, go google it, it's safe) her white cap on - the Esther Williams style one with all the little flowers on it (of course you'd never wear that swimming because it's not very aerodynamic) full makeup AND you can smell her perfume.

Obviously, her kids are grown because she expects people to listen to her, whereas my kids never hear a word I say.  (Clean your room, pick the towel up from the floor, don't strangle your brother)

"If she doesn't show up soon, I'm teaching the class myself."

I'd love to see that.  Much to my disappointment, the instructor shows up and we spend an hour riding noodles while waving our arms, scissoring our legs, complete with a few giddy ups from one end of the pool to the other.

Surprise number one - this actually was harder than I expected it to be.

Surprise number two - Shirley or Gladys or Mabel kicked my ass at water aerobics.

May I be as spritely at her age to think that I can ride a noodle, wearing a white flowered swimming cap, full makeup and perfume AND rock water aerobics!

Did Mom Just Say That?

Things that you will never hear a mother say:

“Wow, this is the first time in a year that you cleaned out under your bed?  That's where all those clothes went!  I can’t wait to do these 16 loads of laundry.”

“That’s fantastic that your field trip is today and you need an orange shirt.  Hold on I’ve got an orange sharpie and a white T-shirt, give me about an hour.”

“What?  I didn’t say clean the WHOLE deck?  Oh, that’s OK, I’ll go back out there and clean the stairs for you.”

“Oh, that’s not what you wanted for dinner.  Let me run this next door to the neighbors so I can start on something you really want to eat.

"You know what?  I hate doing laundry, and you're right, you do not have enough clothes.  Here's my credit card."

"Here, I'll give you whatever you want, please stop crying."

“Oh you don’t like the 85 dollar shoes now?  That’s OK, I look really good in neon Michael Jordan high top basketball shoes.”

"No, no, you go ahead and buy those coins on your game.  I don't need to buy groceries this week."

"How many times do I have to tell you to keep that door open.  I am trying to air condition the neighborhood."

"Oh honey, if everyone else is doing it, then absolutely, you MUST do it too!

“I love the exercise I get when you let the dog out and she takes off down the street.  I feel my legs getting stronger.”

“Oh good, that laundry smells like feet.  I’m glad I got my sense of smell back.”

"Honey, can you come and dig that Lego out of the bottom of my foot.  I think it took part of my callous off."

"You know, that red Icee you spilled on my carpet has given them a lot of character!"

“It is so nice to have the monthly alarm of the smell of pee reminding me to clean the toilet in the boys bathroom.”

“What?  Oh honey, I wasn’t sleeping, I just had my eyes closed.”

and finally,

"Yes, you're right.  I didn't realize it.  I am made of money!"

This A'int No Road Biking!

Let's get out and enjoy some mountain biking, they said.

It will be fun, they said.

You're a biker, you'll love it.  They said.

There are some real fundamental differences on Mountain Biking vs Road Biking.

Years of being clipped in on a road bike did not prepare me for unclipped mountain bike pedals.  I really had no idea how to start pedaling again.  With clipped feet, I am used to pulling UP when I pedal, my feet kept leaving the pedals!

The above problem is no fun at all when trying to navigate rocks, roots and narrow trails.

Rear brake, rear brake!!  I figured out why they kept telling me that as I flew over the handlebars stopping abruptly on the downhill.

I understand all the padding.  I've got chain marks on one leg, a bruise on the other and can't feel my hoochie hoo.

I understand you have to pedal and go fast to go over the stumps, roots, rocks and other shit - but that makes me go fast.

It is possible to be screaming on the downhill and sound like a "motorboat" from all the bumps on the way down.

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Did you know that mountain bikes have big knobby tires so you will bounce off of trees?  I found this out firsthand, right before I fell over.

Of course you are supposed to look the part.  UNTIL you start pricing out HOW to look the PART, then you declare yourself a naturalist because you cannot AFFORD to look the part.  (The same is true on road biking, but I've had 8 years to amass my collection)

When I went to the internet and searched mountain bikes, funny how most of the pictures that came up had something to do with falling.  (I am not alone)

So there you have it.  A committed road cyclist trying to get dirty on the trails, having quite a few of those "What the hell was I thinking" type moments.  Falling down, but getting back up, because I will not let anything beat me.

And I'm putting some towels around my hoochie hoo next time because if I get that tap on the shoulder one night this week, I'm going to groan and actually say, "Not now honey, my hoochie hurts!"

WTF - Why I Don't Buy Nice Things......

I always wondered why my mother never invested in a couch for our downstairs, how our couch started fraying at the edges, smelling slightly like sweat, and eventually needed a book under it because one of the legs broke.

Now I understand.

Kids wreck things.

Specifically kids wreck YOUR things.

The amount of trashing an item is in direct proportion to how much you paid for the item.

T-shirt picked up at consignment store - they'll spill some tea on it.

Expensive blouse bought for a cocktail party - they'll accidentally squirt soy sauce on it, or better yet, they'll spill their Red dye Number 5 Tummy Yummy down the front of it before you leave for the party.

It always goes the same:

"Mom, let me use your iPod/iPhone/Computer/GPS/Garmin?"

"No, because you'll break it.

"I will not!  I swear I will be careful, I will be SUPER careful.  PLEASE!"

"No."

"Come on Mom, I need it for my homework/essay/life well being."

"OK, but please, please be careful."

Child gets the item, then will usually do something like:

"I don't know what happened, it just dropped."

Me, "What did you press?"  Them, "Nothing I swear."  Me, "Why is everything resetting?"

me, "What happened to my iPod/iPhone/Computer?"  Them, looking at me stupidly.

I think all adults should be tased when they think about giving their child  their expensive item - because we fall for it.  Every.  Single.  Time.  .

Here's why we do not buy expensive stuff:

Kids will spill their Blue Icees in your brand new car with the tan interior.
Kids will pull your Beats headphones out by the cord until it tears.
Kids will wear your expensive running shoes then end up playing in a creek.
Kids will keep pressing buttons on your electronics until they don't work.
Kids will stuff their mouth full of goldfish and then sneeze in the backseat of your car.
Kids are holding the cabinet door, "I don't know how it came off the hinges."

So that couch stayed in the basement until we all were gone to college.  That couch held a lot of secrets from my teenage years, some consisting of throw up and others well, never mind.  My mother was smart as I watch my son dump his red Kool Aid onto my new leather couch.

WWMD - What Would Mom Do?

Here is my challenge to other bloggers, in honor of Mother's Day, I challenge you to write a piece about what you mother has taught you and then pass the torch on to all of your blogging and non blogging friends.

My mother passed away a few years ago from brain cancer.  I wish I'd taken the time to sit with her and ask her questions about life, about who I am, and about my family.  There are so many moments in my life where I question my sanity and wish I could just pick up the phone and make that phone call, hearing, "Don't worry.  It's not you.  Boy when you were little you did the same thing."  But instead I focus on those things that I feel she ingrained in me, made sure since she wasn't here a long period of time that I focus on the important things.

There is nothing you cannot do.  Sure Mom was always pushing us, but it was because she wanted more for us, she us to move beyond the street we grew up on, she wanted us to live.  She showed us that she could do the same thing is walking into a new job, a new life and persevering because to her, failure was not an option.  Try bringing home a bad grade in math in elementary school, she taught us early that she expected more from us and wasn't taking no for an answer.  Later in her chemotherapy time she still didn't give up, she decided that sure things may look like shit at the moment, but just being here was worth it.

I'll never forget watching her on that hospital bed playing Uno with my oldest son, listening to him complain that he was losing to her every time because they were "princess cards."  He didn't notice that her head was shaved, that there were tubes coming out of her, he noticed the princess cards because she didn't draw that attention, she simply went on with life.

I love that in her diagnosis we had the gift of time.  We were able to tell her how we felt in those months, talk about different feelings, and most of all hug her.  We didn't mind pushing her around on the red rocker (combination walker wheel chair) we just knew that every moment, every memory we created were special because unlike others out there, Mom had an expiration date.  There was a journey waiting for her that few even knew existed until they were stepping off that ledge.

Have some fun.  Sure, our dogs never sat or heeled or pooped in our yard.  We had hamsters that ran along the top of the kitchen cabinets.  We had birds that flew around the house landing on the dinner table picking the seeds out of the tomatoes.  Our house was never spotless, there was always time to play mermaid on the blue carpet in the basement rather than scrubbing toilets.  Later I remember her running after Wolfgang who was 3 at the time with a Ninja Turtle mask while I tried to get used to another newborn.  She always had time to have fun with her grandkids, a trait I hope to pass on.  We played hard then we cleaned up - it was simple.  Dishes after Thanksgiving, wrapping paper after a birthday, dog poop after a new puppy.  I love how I told her after a few beers to look "casual" going into the hotel to use the bathroom.  Well, she tripped into the hotel lobby, and tripped going back out to the street - both of us laughing.

Don't give up.  Many can decide to live in the life they have.  My mother decided that there was something out there for her and she went for it.  She wasn't looking for romance, she was looking for a partner and she found one.  Someone who sat with her every night drinking a beer talking about their day, someone who enjoyed making homemade soup as much as she did, someone who pushed her in the wheelchair during those years, gently touching her bald head before lightly kissing it.  Someone who took care of her and loved her until the end, loved her so much that he passed of a broken heart 6 weeks later.  Most are not that lucky.

When it is time, it is time.  My mother fought the good battle against a disease that slowly takes the pieces of the person you love and steals them away.  We took her advice when we had to make the hard decisions in her treatment, when we had to bond together and say goodbye.  We knew that she lived life to the fullest and the present condition was not acceptable, we knew that from years of listening to her tell us what she wanted us to do, she was silently telling us it was time.  There was a new adventure awaiting,  time to let her go.  The nurse told us, "She had a strong heart," when she died, we all knew that was true.

I know that we did the right thing, because when I want to call her and ask those questions, I feel a sense of peace.  Leave the dead be, they are in their own place, your job is to live now, is what she always told me.

Oh, and the secret to a clean house?

Lower the shades, they'll never see the dust.

THOSE Parents!

I've moved into into the "Parent of Older Children" status now that both of my boys have hit double digit status with one an actual TEENAGER!  I can sit and chuckle as I watch THOSE parents with the small children, remembering what they were going through.

The Organic Momma - "Oh we only do Organic Rainforest Chocolate.  I am sure those little eggs are delicious, but what does it do to the environment?"

The Helpful Neighbor - "We went ahead and walked your dog for you.  She looked like she needed to go out.  Here is her bag of poo, where would you like us to put it?"

The Stressed Mum - "Stephen is such a picky eater, we brought our own Easter Eggs for him.  George go hide the eggs while I cover his eyes.  I am sure the other children will not like the Gluten Free, Dye Free, Sugar Free Chocolate."

The Hoarder - "Looks like you have a few extra goodie bags left, I'll take a few for Carla's brother and 3 sisters, is that OK?"


The Hipster Mom, "Is that two bees doing it?  Do bees actually do it?"

Then there are the code words:

"Oh, I'm not sure those bolts will hold you."  Translation - You are either too old or too heavy to play on my swings.

"How fast does that motorbike go?" Translation - "Is that the liquor cycle I've heard about, the mopeds that go to the people who've lost their licenses?"

"She's a picky eater."  Translation - "Please don't offer her that extra large slice of Chocolate Heavenly Cake."

"Shhh, the baby's sleeping"  Translation - Time for everyone to go home.

"Why?"  from a child.  Translation - "But I want to do it anyway."

"Are you sure you want to do that?"  Translation - Trampolines for women over 40?  Not a good idea.

Funny, but I used to be every single one of these parents.  Thinking I knew it all about parenting and finding out quickly how little I do know.  Now, I just pray that something is sticking and the kids will turn out normal.

Seriously, how do you define normal?