WTF - Do not make me go there!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aaagh!!!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don't mess with Momma!

What did you say?

Just to help you out.  Here are how some comments in my home are tranlated by my Mom Brain.

Significant Other - "Good Morning Sweetie."

Translation - "Why are you standing there eating that Krispy Kreme doughnut, don't you know it goes straight to your waist?"

Child - "What's in my lunch box?"

Translation - did you give me something good or ANOTHER peanut and butter jelly sandwich?

Child - "Why do I have to go to bed now?"

Translation - "I really want to be a jackass in the morning and going to bed early is foiling my evil plan."

BFF - "Would you like a taste?"

Translation - "I know you hate what you ordered for lunch, but you cannot finish off mine."

BFF - "I'm not sure about that one."

Translation - "Those white leggings look like sausage casings on your ass, actually, they may be cutting off the circulation to your cankles.  And believe me the looks you would get wearing that?  You'll thank me for giving you advice."

ME - "I was up all night reading my book."

Translation - "OK, I ending up in a marathon on Criminal Minds, but reading for fifteen minutes before going to bed cancels that brainless activity out."

ME - "You'll eat it and you'll like it."

Translation - "Sure it tastes like shit, I made it.  But someone has to eat it, AND it's is healthy."

ME - "Because I said so."

Translation - "I have no answer, and I'm pissed off.  You'd better stop now before things get ugly."

BFF - "Did you see the new tunics at Bella Nova Boutique?"

Translation - "Obviously you haven't been working on your sit ups - you're gonna need those."

It is easy when you have the translations to understand either:

a.  The look you get from your wife, mother, other.
b.  The slap from said person, or
c.  That silence when you ask "Are you OK?" and they answer, "I'm fine."

Translation - someone is sleeping in the dog house that night and it's not her.

Do you have any translations you would like to add?

WTF - How late nights cost you money...

My kids are working really hard to either put me in the insane asylum or the poor house - some days I feel like it is both.

When the oldest lost his first tooth, it couldn't have come at a worst time.  I was broke.  Broke in as I had no cash on me.  Forgot about the tooth fairy until 5am the next morning.  Was thinking I could just write him a check from the tooth fairy but then how could I black out my name and address.  Figured he would have to be dissapointed but sweet hubby found a twenty dollar bill in his wallet.

My son as he got on the bus, "My tooth fairy is ultra cool, she leaves 20 dollar bills!"

So do the math, both kids loose 26 teeth at 20 bucks a pop.  Yeah, I have a home equity line for that one.

The Secret Stash

My son has a false book.  He took one of my books (thank goodness not a favorite) and hollowed out the inside creating his "secret stash."  Now as Moms know, when we need cash we can sniff it out of anywhere in the house.

We've checked for freshly laundered money in the dryer.
We've hit all the pockets of all the jackets in the home.

Nothing.

So I sniff out his secret stash and pull out a twenty to send in with the other child to cover his Field Trip that day.  Knowing that I will return the money later that day.

He comes home from school, "Let me go and check my stash!"
Me.  "NOOOO!   Um, not yet."


It's late, I'm tired, so I pull the cash back out of my wallet and stuff it back in the stash.  There, now he can check it.

The next morning, my son, "Holy cow!"
Me, "What?"
"Look!  I have 60 dollars in my stash!  Do you think the leprechaun left money this time?  Because I haven't lost a tooth and there's two extra 20 dollars in there?"
I sigh, "Yeah baby, I'm sure it was the leprechaun."

WTF Note to Self:  It is not a good idea to do anything late at night or first thing in the morning.  Late at night, you can blame that glass of wine in your brain, first thing in the morning, you just blame yourself.

So don't:
Count money
Text anyone, I repeat text anyone.
Write Facebook Posts
Count money again.
Say what is really on your mind.
Hit the fridge -- I mean, really?  Then why is there a light in it.

There.

Go do something productive late at night - like dig a hole in your neighbor's backyard about the size of a body then fill it back in.

You're welcome.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Today is St. Patrick's Day, a holy holiday in the McKeon family.  A wonderful holiday for me full of sweet memories.

My mother always had a green milk for breakfast, and for dinner.  Sure we had corned beef and cabbage, but the green milk was always the highlight of our day.

My father loved to sing Irish songs, my favorite was Mother MaCree, the most poignant time when my Aunt Marie passed away and everyone was sitting around at her funeral.  They started with, "Buddy, sing Danny Boy."  Then it was "Buddy, sing Rose of Tralee," until finally, "Buddy, sing Mother Macree."  He could never finish that song without a tear in his eye, and my grandmother blubbering.  Since both of the Kelly sisters had departed for the sweet hereafter, my father sang it for both of them, the rest of the family doing the blubbering for him.

I traveled to Ireland with my father and my Aunt on the "trip of a lifetime," both of them finally getting to a place of their dreams.  I'll never forget standing on top of the Blarney Castle, my father laughing and saying, "You don't need to kiss the stone Kelly, you already have the gift of gab!"  We traveled downtown Dublin, making sure to stop at the Guiness factory, my father happily taking the extra tickets from our travel group to the "tasting room."  My Dad was the only person who ever called me Kate, I have a card for my birthday in Gaelic, saying, "We'll never have this again, our birthdays in Ireland, Kate."

I went back to Ireland with my family and my Mother.  I will never forget the flight to the Aran Islands in a small aircraft prompting my mother to say, "My Volkswagon has more aerodynamics than this plane."  She wasn't happy when they weighed all of us before deciding where we sit on the airplane, something about distribution of weight ("Why am I in the back," my mother asked.)  The plane flew off of a cliff, dropped then came up slowly over the ocean before starting toward the island.  I will never forget the look on my mother's face when the plane dropped.

For my 40th birthday, the family went to Ireland for a week.  One of my fondest memories, was Wolfgang, 3 at the time, going into a hole with his Shilelagh trying to find a Leprechaun to "Bop" on the head and take home to be his friend.

Now we create our own St. Patrick's Day Memories, just like my Mom, no holiday is complete without the green milk, green pancakes and a visit from Buddy McShae, our resident leprechaun.  He's a grumpy old fella, who short sheets the beds, leaves green glitter AND doesn't flush the toilet.

Make your memories now because they become your favorite memories later.

And old Irish proverb once said,

SIT! What? I said, SIT!

I can settle different parts of my life based on the four legged friends in my life.  Their age, moving at the speed of 7 years at a pop means that there are many passing through my years.

My favorite childhood memory was dogs that never listen.  I believe this taught me early in childhood that it was considered in good taste to not listen to my mother.  Because, no one, not even the dog listened to her.  We would periodically look her way wondering, "Why is she screaming like a maniac?"

Sometimes my brother would listen, but that's because all of us, including the dog, thought he was a brown noser.  He also enjoyed telling on us all the time.

We learned the not listening trick from the first dogs that I can remember.  Taffy #1 and Taffy #2.  Taffy #1 hated my grandmother, so much that she'd take a shit every morning right outside my grandmother's bedroom door when she came to visit.  We'd swear up and down that we took her for a LONG walk but, she saved what she had in her shit savings account making a withdraw right before my grandmother woke.

Taffy #2 was brought into the house when Taffy #1 passed from old age.  Not to confuse us children about which dog is which, they both looked exactly the same (pekingese) and answered to the name "Taffy."  Taffy #2 didn't have as much of a beef with my grandmother, or with us kids.  She hid with us in the closet so we could cut her, and our, hair.  She did everything we asked of her, and not a single thing my mother asked her to do.  Simple things, like please go to the bathroom outside, or if someone peed in the toilet and didn't flush it, please do not drink it.  Poor Taffy #2 didn't listen to anyone when they we were yelling, "GET OUT OF THE WAY," and ended up in the back yard after an unfortunate encounter with the back wheel of our station wagon.  All I remember was my father saying, "We have reservations at Disney World in two days, the dog's dead."

This brought Red into our life.  A very large Golden Retriever who came into our house due to tragic circumstances of his own.  After giving birth, his mother was shot by a neighbor because his father kept getting into the hen house (but that's another story for later.)  This dog had such a gregarious personality, and he was such a cute puppy that he got away with not listening.  We took him to obedience school, which he flunked.  Tried a private instructor when he dragged me down the street on my belly chasing after a squirrel.  Red also caused neighbor troubles like his father, his being that he'd take a big shit in the neighbor's yard, him yelling that he knew it was OUR dog because of all the neon Crayola Crayons making the shit psychedelic.  

The dog would go and find rabbits, decapitate them and bring them home as a prize for us, usually throwing the bloody head or leg on my father's bare foot because he was constantly trying to earn the love of the one person that never noticed him.  He noticed when something cold and slimy hit his foot.  He got put into the dog house in the garage when he decided that he could eat my brother's rabbit (Thumper) as fair game and leave the head in my brother's bed.

My mother would complain that the dog never listened to her, that something would happen to him, but when push came to shove, he showed her he did really hear something in obedience class.  We were all in the station wagon on the way home from school, coming around an off ramp close to home when the dog decided he didn't feel like staying in the car with fighting kids, jumping out of the back window, going for a run!  My mother pulls over to the side of the highway, we're out running, except my baby sister who is wailing in the car, trying to corral the dog who's thinking, "Wow, I should have done this sooner if I knew it was such a fun game of keep away."

My mother pulls out the "Mom Voice," that voice that gains the most naughtiest of kids attention, not making them be good, but gaining their attention.  It comes deep from her belly, sounding like the spawn of Satan.

"Red.  SIT!"

Granted the dog flunked obedience school, ate through most of the house (2 rabbits, 4 door jams, 3 pairs of shoes, 2 hairbrushes) oh, and of course 6.5 boxes of Crayola crayons.  We all figured a car was going to dispose of Red and Daddy would bring home a Red #2.  (What?  That's where kid's minds go.)

Like drunks, kids and dogs, God watches over them, much to our amazement, the dog's butt slowly lowers to the ground with a look of, "Am I really in trouble?"  He doesn't move until my mother gets the leash on him saying, "Good boy," which he promptly jumps on her, knocking her over.

She brings him back to the car, "Maybe something did stick with him after three sets of obedience classes."  He jumps in the back with us kids, spreading mud all over us.  We didn't care, we didn't need a Red#2.

Obedience classes?  Are you kidding?  Later than evening my grandmother comes to visit wearing a coat and rabbit skin hat.  Red, in slow motion, on the hunt, comes through the den, into the laundry room toward her.  In his mind, he is that wolf getting ready for the kill.

"Red.  SIT!"  My mother tries the Mom voice again.

He tackles my grandmother to the ground, attacks the hat right off of her head, shakes it (fur flying everywhere) disappearing out the back door into the night with his kill.  My grandmother (not the smallest of women) struggles back up, "I'm glad he didn't get my fox stole."

Later when he comes back after effectively killing the rabbit hat, we notice a box of Crayola crayons has gone missing.

Some things never change.

WTF - My Smartphone has made me a better person

I knew there was a reason I had to upgrade and move into the latest century with my iPhone5c.  And no, it was not the talk to text feature!  Here's ways my Smartphone has made me a better person.


Energy Conservation - texting saves reams of paper in notes AND the person doesn't have to be there to get the message - a good one OR a bad ome..

Flexibility - I have impressed my husband with some new moves learned while trying to catch a signal.

Adaptability - especially when my phone acts like a have a great signal until I dial a number and it goes, "Oh psych, you have extended network."

Learn New Languages - Texting has become a language all in its own.  I now understand what my BFF is doing when she is "C U L8TR BC I M ROFL W BFF OVR TXT FRM X."  And I can reply "KKK" and she will not think I am part of the Klu Klux Klan.

Psychic - When my BFF texts me, "Live young gnu blossom."  I totally understand her auto correct language replying, "I live gnu blossom took."  (I love your new blouse too)

Read a Map - yes, the person who cannot find her way out of a paper bag can now read a map.  You'll learn too when you let Apple Maps try to get you someplace and end up in the middle of no where with little gas and a phone that says, "Psych, you don't have a signal."

Patience with my children - because they always have to fix my phone.  Or better yet, "set it up for me," which is code language for "you'll never be able to find anything."

Healthier - I have apps that remind me to drink water, what mileage I need to run, a healthy alternative to dinner, when to pluck my chin hairs.  I'll never be unhealthy again - my phone won't let me.

Coordination - there are smart phones everywhere.  Try to limit the amount of footage of you out there falling to a bare minimum.  Unless the falls are epic.

Stronger - you'd be surprised at the definition in my arms from all the selfies I take.

Build Better Relationships - because I can see all the epic fails by people in their Facebook postings and learn what NOT to do!

My phone has made me a better person, I am sure there are more rewards coming down the pike as I actually learn how to use it!

It's a Given - Children Edition

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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