*sigh* Church People

Candyland is frozen over and I've had lots and lots of time over the past few days (four days to be exact; I've not left the house in FOUR days. It's like heaven) to ponder and, um  dwell  on a certain interaction that occurred last Sunday that has left a very bad taste in my mouth.

I love my church. No, seriously. My church is wonderful, and to be more specific, my Sunday School class is just downright amazing. When I hear people talk about how churches are so hypocritical and judgmental and only want perfect people in their buildings, I know that these poor individuals have never been to my church. My Sunday school class has seen me through the end of my miserable marriage, my divorce, a surgery and hospital stay that was beyond terrifying, and countless other crap that comes up in the course of a normal life. They have stepped up to be godly examples to my kids; taking my boys hunting, fishing, to ball games, and to Boy Scout events since their dad (who does his best - not ex bashing here) lives so far away. I've had people from my church step up to fix my plumbing, take care of my yard, drive my kids when I couldn't. Nobody has ever presumed to judge me or make me feel bad about the job I'm doing as a mom. Nobody ever acts like they are better than you. Nobody pretends that because they are on this committee of that council that they are more holy than you are. They recognize that everyone has flaws and that just because they are good at one thing, they aren't good at everything. It takes the whole Body of Christ to really make things work for a church. We all tend to be checking for the plank in our own eyes and leave it to you to find the speck in yours.  Basically, my big, wonderful church is, mostly, full of people that wouldn't fit the most definitions of "church people."

But...(you knew that was coming, right?)

As if to make a liar out of me, I had an encounter last week with a person from my church that made me feel about four inches tall. Then it just started to piss me off. This is a person I've known for a very long time. I've never been particularly close with this person, but I do appreciate what he does for the church. He and his family are some of those people who are there "every time the church doors are open." They really do fill a number of needs that our church has. He works a lot with the youth. And having two children in the youth group, I REALLY appreciate those who give their time to care for the spiritual growth of these kids. HOWEVER...

(small segue for explanation)

If you know me at all or have read much of my blog, you know that I struggle mightily with chronic migraines. A few years ago, the flight surgeon also determined that I have some sort of auto-immune disease that we never did figure out. After several blood tests and other attempts, this flight surgeon got assigned elsewhere and the remaining docs didn't have the time or inclination to play "What the hell is wrong with Buffi" any longer. Suffice to say, I do take care of my kids and try my darndest to get them to all the extra-curricular activities they participate in so that they can grow up to be healthy, well-rounded people. Some days, though, I wake up with a particularly terrible headache that keeps me from driving because I can barely open my eyes. Or when I do open my eyes, everything looks a little, um, wavy or weird and I feel like I can't trust my senses to guide me. On school days, I do my best to power through and at least get the kids to school. The cost of that is that I generally end up back in bed for the rest of the day until I have to get the boys. Although now that SP can drive, I can have her pick them up sometimes or I have had friends who do that for me once or twice.

Add to that: For the past several years, SugarPlum  played on a club soccer team that required us to travel to Metropolis to our south in order to play. So many, many weekends, we missed church because of soccer games. Now that she is a junior in high school, her club team basically disbanded because juniors & seniors would rather spend weekends with their friends and/or working than travelling two hours each way to play soccer. Yes, I'm a soccer mom without a soccer team...but that's another post for another time. The upside of this is that we have been able to go to church much more often and the boys have finally been able to be way more involved in some of the activities at church. Yay! [now that I am thinking about it, these are the same parents who made it a point to tell me that they would never put sports before church...whatever]

Now, there are still some Sundays when I wake up, open my eyes, and the pain that comes shooting from every direction causes me to lie back down and say, "NOPE. Not happening today." So, I take some migraine medicine, drink as much water as my queasy belly will allow and go back to bed, hoping that the pain will pass. Am I proud that I'm missing church and causing my kids to miss? No. I'm very sad about this. Could I get SP to take them to church. Probably. But my brain isn't exactly functioning at capacity and the ridiculous amount of nagging it takes to get those boys ready to go anywhere, much less dressed in a manner acceptable (to me anyway) for church, is usually beyond my brain's paltry abilities at that point. So we all stay home.

Last week was one of those Sundays. However, by Sunday afternoon, I was feeling much better and was able to get Bear to church for Bible Drill followed by a party that the youth group was having. When I went up there to fetch him after the party was over, this man (the one I mentioned waaaaay back there, before you stopped reading, because golly this has turned into a long post!) pulls me aside and says, "I have a bone to pick with you!" I, knowing this man as a fun-loving guy with a good sense of humor, chuckled and said, "Okay, what did they do now?" 

THEN, this man - this self-righteous man - proceeds to SCOLD me, saying that Bear told him I had slept in this morning and that I have a responsibility to get my kids to church every Sunday. He didn't think it was okay for me to just sleep in when these boys wanted to be at church. I was speechless. I smiled, nodded and told him that from now on, I'd be sure to have Bear call him when his mom was too lazy to get the kids to church. Okay, maybe I left out the "when his mom was too lazy to get the kids to church" part, but I was just floored. 

I carry so much guilt over what I cannot do when I'm going through a bad streak of migraines. Not to mention the guilt I feel for my kids having to grow up with divorced parents. I was awfully proud that I'd been getting us to church as often as I had. I was also feeling pretty good that I'd gotten Bear to church that night. I truly felt like somebody punched me in the gut. Now I can hardly look at him or his wife (who has also chastised me in the past for Bug missing Sunday school, but not to that extent) without feeling angry. And I don't like that. 

I wish that people could understand that many of us are doing the best we can and that what we need most is encouragement when we are getting everyone to church. I wasn't feeling God's love at all last Sunday. What I was feeling wasn't coming from God at all. Why can't people see that these kinds of interactions are what KEEP people away from church? If I hadn't been a member of this church for nearly ten years, I don't know what effect it would have had on me. I don't know that I would want take my kids back to a place where it seemed the policy was to make parents feel bad. Thank goodness I have my Sunday School class and other good, loving friends in my church who encourage and support me and never once make me feel bad for missing when I can't help it. I feel sad for those people who haven't had time to meet the friends I have and whose early encounters are with stereotypical "church people." Our church is a great place filled with the most amazing people. If you are active in your church, please consider how your words sound to others. No one person is more "holy" than another. Nobody gets to pass judgment on anyone else but God. So stop casting those stones already.

I'll get over this. But I just pray that I'm the only one that caught this man's judgment and not a new person who is struggling with their faith and feelings. It would be sad for something like this to drive someone away entirely.

(and if you made it all the way through, thanks for listening to my rant!)

Of birthdays, and deuling, and other very BOY things

Shamefully, I let the entire month of May and half of June pass without mention of the fact that BOTH boys had another birthday. While I have tried to strongly discourage any further growing or maturing or aging, these children stubbornly insist on growing up. *sigh* So disobedient. See? Right there? Hoodlums. ------->>

First, my Buggy Boy turned eight. He was truly looking forward to his birthday this year even though he knew it was going to be was very low key. Somehow, eight was a really big deal to him. It's hard having one of the last birthdays of the school year. But as Bear and I can both attest, it still beats having your birthday after school is out. His Daddy called from Overthereistan and I think he got to webcam with Daddy as well. Daddy got Bug the DSI xl (or some device with a similar acronym, I can't keep it all straight) that he wanted. Very exciting. Gram and GrayGray came for the weekend. A close friend brought his daughter over to celebrate - both of whom the boys think are pretty awesome. All the kids (Bear & Bug, SugarPlum, Little Miss & her Daddy) had a huge water gun fight in the back yard which was, in the words of the birthday boy "AWESOME." Bug got to pick where to eat supper - Buffalo Wild Wings, in case you were wondering...he thinks WINGS are the greatest food in the world right now. (I don't get it. Maybe it's a guy thing) Then back to the house for presents and his ARMY GUY cake.

Somehow, it has become kind of a tradition that the boys' cakes include some sort of action figures. This was actually born out of laziness and lack of skill on my part in making any sort of cool theme cake and now they look forward to the toys on the cake and I can include that as one of their gifts. Pretty much a win/win if you ask me. Anyway, after cake he opened presents, was slightly disappointed to discover that he did NOT get Big Game Hunter (or something like that) for the Wii, but he was pretty happy with all of his gifts.

Ten days later, we were in Candyland West (also known as Gram & GrayGray's house) for Bear's birthday. He turned 10. TEN. T.E.N. Double digits, folks. Oh. Em. Gee. But it hasn't done a thing to detract from his sweet nature. He was happy because he got to meet his precious new baby cousin (and my beautiful, precious new nephew! I'm FINALLY Aunt Buffi for real!) (we'll call the baby [my brother's] Tadpole for now....maybe Tad for short) and my Bear loooooves babies. And this is one of the sweetest, most laid back babies in the history of EVER. We got to go swimming at the home of one of my bestest friends from high school and then Bear got to choose where we went to dinner (a wonderful Italian place that has the absolute best calzones on the entire planet - including Italy) and we were joined by Gray, Gram, my two precious beautiful (and now-entirely-grown-up-adults-because-they-won't-listen-to-me-either) cousins, and our close friend. After supper, we had cake (Bear really wanted a Harry Potter cake but we could not find Harry Potter action figures - which is weird, right? BUT he was delighted to get a Phineus and Ferb cake - no pictures though because I cannot find my damn camera). Bear also got a special phone call from his Daddy, which ALWAYS makes him happy and got to open his gift from Daddy (same as Bug's) before we left Candyland. He liked ALL of his presents - especially the Banzai Samurai Dueling Sticks because now he and his brother can beat the crap out of each other with fewer drastic consequences.** I also have decided that any arguments are going to be resolved by going outside with the sticks and not coming in until they have reached an agreement. SugarPlum is not too keen on this idea.

So, now I have these older children. They are pretty fantastic when they aren't conspiring to make my head explode.....which, honestly is a good part of every day, I am quite certain. But they are funny and smart and well-behaved (when they aren't acting like meth-addled monkeys) and loving and cuddly and just imperfect enough to make them perfect.

**The "rules" on the box for the Banzai Samurai Dueling Sticks state that there are no "points" awarded for hits to the head, face or groin and a couple of other areas. I read through the rules carefully with them before and asked if they understood. They nodded enthusiastically, indicating that YES they did understand fully and could they please just go out and begin beating one another already. I also included a "Mommy Rule Addendum" that stated that any hits to the head, groin or face would result in a 24 hour suspension of Banzai Samurai Dueling Sticks privileges and the offender would have to clean the bathroom for a week. More enthusiastic nodding, accompanied by eye-rolling. I then asked if they knew what the "groin" was. And no, neither of them did, of course. And since it was the middle of the night in Overthereistan, it fell to me to explain. Good times, people. Good times. It took less than five minutes before someone came in crying. And I sent them right back out. No blood, no bones sticking out, no sympathy....

Phrases I rarely use in conversation with adults....It's been a while...

It has been ages since I chronicled the ridiculous things that come out of my mouth while parenting. There are things that I never even imagined I would say. If you're feeling nostalgic, you can look waaaay back here to see other times I have pondered the utterings of a befuddled mom...

• Stop throwing dirt in the air.
• And no throwing rocks at people.
• Play knights with your Nerf swords, not these sticks...that have nails in them. Sweet Fancy Moses, where did those even come from??
• No, you do not need a spear.
• You're fine. I don't have time to go to the ER today.
• And don't bleed on my couch. (True story, I actually said that. SugarPlum about peed her pants.)
• The tooth fairy doesn't want filthy teeth, so you'd better hope you brush well before that thing falls out.
• Get dressed.
• Get dressed.
• For the love of little green apples, GET. YOUR. CLOTHES. ON.
• I WILL take you to school in your pajamas. Wanna try me?**
• Cleaning your room includes all around the edges AND in your closet AND under your bed AND the top of your dresser. It does not mean clearing a space beneath your ceiling fan.
• If you pull all the leaves off that shrub, you'll have to buy me a new one.
• Please don't break my house.
• When was the last time someone flushed this toilet?? It smells like Woodstock in here!
• If you keep screaming like that the neighbors are going to think that someone has been mortally wounded and call the police.
• Cool Whip is not a "healthy snack."
• Oh, ew. I think it's time you started wearing deodorant.
• When I call your name, you get your butt in here, immediately. You do not simply shout "Yeah?"
• What is so hard to understand about bedtime? PJs, potty, brush your teeth, dirty clothes to the washing machine. That's how it's been since you could walk. Are you new here??
• "In the washing machine" means just that. Not somewhere in the approximate vicinity of the laundry room.
• I know that you have heard Mommy say that word, but it is a word that is only okay for grown-ups to use. If you say that at school, you'll get detention.
• No spitting water all over the shower.
• How can you have been in the shower for 25 minutes and your hair is not even wet? But the light fixture is?
• OUCH! *&^$ing Legos. (See above: words only grown-ups can use)
• Don't sit on the dog.
• Don't lasso the dog.
• Leave the poor dogs alone already.
• If you screw up SugarPlum's math project on the computer, I will let her beat you.
• Everybody to the bathroom before we leave!
• GAH! I told you to go to the bathroom before we left!
• Why are you not wearing shoes? Which part of "going to the grocery store" did you not understand?
• No, we are not going to McDonalds.
• No we are not going to Taco Bell.
• No, we are not going to El Chico.
• WE ARE EATING AT HOME, we have groceries IN. THE. CAR. RIGHT NOW!
• How much does your Mommy love you? More than anything in the whole wide world.
• You little heathen.

**One day Bug piddled around and couldn't find two matching shoes. So he wore the right shoe of one pair and the left shoe of another. He's never had trouble finding his shoes since....

Arrr arrrrr

(If you begin to feel offended by this post at any point, please see the note at the end.)

Due to the big (ish) move and the big changes and the slight bullying issue, my boys have been attending a private Christian school here in Candyland. It's ironic because I have spent the past eight years singing the praises of the Candyland Independent School District. Because honestly, the public schools here are fan-freakin-tastic. My kids have all been blessed with wonderful teachers almost every year and have learned so much. In fact, SugarPlum has remained at the junior high she's been attending since the sixth grade and next year she will go to one of the three fantastic high schools that CISD has to offer. (Heaven help me) Really, you can't go wrong when it comes to high schools here, especially.

But...(you knew that was coming, right?)

Bear needed a fresh start. A place where he felt safe and could count on some spiritual guidance as well as an almost zero tolerance for any kind of bullying. And Bug...well, my little Buggy is one smart kid. And he was getting bored and failing to see the point of doing the work at school last year. Oh, he was making good grades but he was also making his teacher (who was amazing) and his mommy insane. He really likes having attention. And since the State of Texas has mandated that there can be up to 22 students to a class in the lower grades, it makes it hard for a smart guy to get attention when the teacher is having to devote time to the kids who don't get it. It's not the teacher's fault. I've been in her shoes. 22 Kindergarteners. One me. Not good. So, in order to get attention, Bug was acting out and getting in trouble. More and more often. I feared for what second grade held for him.

I decided that, for these and a host of other reasons, my boys needed the guidance and supervision on a private, Christian school. They have really flourished there. They both love that they get to study the Bible and that they have chapel weekly. Bear comments often about how he has friends and how he doesn't feel so sad and picked on. Bug's teachers have recognized how smart he is and also how easily distracted and bored he can get. And since there are only ten (yes TEN) kids in each class, they are able to keep closer tabs on him and change their tactics with him to keep him challenged and engaged. I LOVE it.

Here's the thing. Since the classes are so small, they are able to do little plays and presentations that the parents are invited - nay, encouraged - to attend. These little things only last a few minutes, but they require a huge chunk out of my day to plan around them. They usually fall at just about the time I need to go pick up SugarPlum. Also? They are mind-numbingly boring.

Maybe it's because this is my third kid, but honestly, the ten minute vignette Willie the Walrus is something I feel like I can go the rest of my life without seeing. Just like the Johnny Appleseed "play" they did in the Fall. Problem? All the other mommies show up, video camera in hand, to see their little angels and Bug is left feeling like his mommy doesn't care. No, really, he said that. For reals. And so, I will trudge myself up there in the middle of a busy Wednesday afternoon, the day after MY school starts to watch Bug go "Arrr arrr" in his three second role as a sea lion (I KID YOU NOT). I will take care to be ON TIME this time because I was a few minutes late to the Johnny Appleseed play and they were already finished. So they performed it again. Just for me. Oh, yes they did. And all the other, good mommies looked at me with their "tsk tsk" faces the whole entire time. Which meant that I had to applaud like the entire Barrymore family had assembled to perform Macbeth for my sole benefit.

My only plea...is there any way that perhaps we could find a way to serve cocktails at these little theatrical events? Just a small cordial would really go a long way in helping motivate me to get there. A small glass of wine, a mini-martini....something? It doesn't have to be huge. Just enough to get me through the tedium. Just consider it, Candyland Christian School. I know I'm not the only mom who feels this way.

Also, the Family Night/Silent Auction? Would raise a LOT more money if you had an open bar. Just sayin.

***Please recognize how very tongue-in-cheek this post is. I LOVE seeing Bug and all the kids perform and wouldn't miss it for the world. I love and adore each and every teacher at CCS and wouldn't change one single thing about it.****

***Also, I am not advocating drinking at school events and would never, ever even consider drinking and driving my children anywhere. Or anyone. Or even just me. Oh, for crying out loud, you get what I am saying, right?!!***

A medical quiz. I failed.

So when your six-year-old (who has seasonal allergies and is taking medicine for them) has a cough that sounds kinda gross, but also a little like it's just a post nasal drip cough, but no fever - there was never a fever - how long do you wait before taking him to the doctor?

Three days? A week?

Until he is waking you up at night coughing?

Until he has goop coming out of his eye?

Until he - the child who, most days, won't even accept your offers to stay home from school and snuggle Mommy all day - tells you he doesn't want to go to school because he needs to go to the doctor?

BINGO!

Since he was feeling so poorly that he didn't even want to go to school, I called the base appointment line and am told that they can get him into pediatrics on....Friday. Um, no. Thanks for playing. Try again, please. So they have the nurse call and give permission to take him to the Clinic Care thingy OFF base (and much, much closer to my house).

We get there, check in, and wait.....about two minutes. Seriously. I was STUNNED!!! They weighed Bear and put us in a room and THEN we waited....perhaps sixty seconds. Holy Cow! And who walks in? An actual doctor with an actual MD!! She examined Bear and was very nice. I'm starting to wonder what the down side is to going off base. Oh, wait! There isn't one.

So, what happens when you wait until your child is actually BEGGING you to go to the doctor? He ends up having bronchitis, a sinus infection, AND pink eye. Bless his little Bear heart.

BAAAD Mommy. Bad, bad Mommy.

The post where I use the phrase "Pull-Ups" 950 million times***

SUBTITLED: HELP!!!!

You know what I will, one day, be truly thankful for? When I don't have to buy pull-ups any more. Those things are expensive and it irks me to no end that I am still buying them. My mind boggles at the Christmas gifts I could purchase with the money I am spending on pull-ups every month.


Both boys must wear pull-ups to bed every night. And, oh, say five nights out of seven, we go through three if not four pull-ups. This is because, in spite of my insistence that they go pee before bed and the trips they make when I haul their poor sleepy selves out of bed to take them to the potty, they STILL pee in their sleep. Many nights, when I take them to the potty before I go to bed, they have already wet their pull-ups. So, I change them. Then? At least three times a week I have to change the sheets on one or both beds because they have leaked in the night IN SPITE OF a)having a pull up on; and b)having been taken to the bathroom in the middle of the night.


I try limiting their fluid intake in he evenings. I make sure that they pee at least once before they go to sleep. Just what in the hell is going on here? Sometimes, their pj's and beds will be soaked, yet the pull-ups are barely damp. What is THAT about? I am certain that they have the proper size pull-ups and that they are on correctly. (This shouldn't be a problem since they are clearly marked, yet many times I have discovered a boy with a backward pull-up.)

But truly, the most disturbing thing is: these boys are FOUR and SIX YEARS OLD!! Shouldn't they have the nighttime incontinence thing conquered by now? SP did by the time she was three. I KNOW. Boys are different and take longer than girls. But COME ON. This is crazy, right?

Bear is dying to have a sleep-over or to go to sleep at a friend's house. But, I can't in good conscience send him to another house just to pee the bed. Not to mention that he really, really wants to go to church camp next summer. That ain't gonna happen if he has to wear pull-ups and be changed in the night. At the very least I'll have to insist that they give him a bottom bunk!

Is this one of those terribly common, yet shameful things that nobody speaks of? Or are my boys freaks? Will they need college roommates who won't mind taking them to potty in the night? WHAT CAN I DO????? Any advice would be welcome. As long as it is constructive. My ego can't handle a beating right now.


***I almost titled this post "Pissed Off" but I decided that I wouldn't be THAT obvious. Though, I am a punny girl!***

Were you aware of this?

I read in the paper this morning that the day after tomorrow is THANKSGIVING!

How the hell did THAT happen? Wasn't it just September, like YESTERDAY?! Way to be there for me, people.

Suppose I should go buy a turkey and all the accompaniments? Or do you think that SD, Pop Pop & the SugarBabies would settle for that lasagna I have in the freezer?

Yeah. Me neither. Guess it's off to the commissary for me!

Conversations that make my mom laugh her ass off (10 year-old version...continued)

SugarPlum: My room is all clean!

Me: Did you really get it all clean or did you just push everything to the edges of your room so that the middle *looks* clean but if one pays any attention at all, she can see the piles of CRAP lining the perimeter? Because if it's the latter, I will have to say, no, it is NOT clean and you cannot go to Izzy's house until it is.

SugarPlum: :::BIGGEST SIGH EVER::: followed by *slamming door *

That's what I thought.


Me: Slam that door again and I'm taking it off the hinges!

Comversations that make my mom laugh her ass off (10 year-old version)

Me: SugarPlum!

SP: ............

Me: SUGARPLUM!!!

SP: what??? (very distant)

Me: SUGAR!PLUM!

SP: ::walking in, batting eyelashes:: Yes, Mommy?

Me: When I call you, you come here. Don't yell "What," you come the first time.

SP: ::eye roll:: What did you need Mommy?

Me: I have no idea anymore.

*sigh*

Conversations that make my mom laugh her ass off (Theme for the rest of the week)

Remember when your mom told you, "One day you will grow up and have kids and I hope that they will act just like you are now!"! Well, evidently, it worked. And my mother is experiencing unspeakable joy over this fact.

To wit:


Me: ::standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner::

Bear: Mommy, may I please have a cookie?

Me: Buddy, we are going to be eating supper in about 15 minutes.

Bear: So, can I have a cookie?

Me: No, because it's almost suppertime.

Bear: Well, can I have a yogurt then?

Me: Bear! We're eating supper soon! No yogurt.

Bear: Well....a popsicle then? I can have a popsicle?

Me: *sigh* Supper! 10 minutes!! No popsicle!

Bear: But I'm starving!!!

Me: Well, call CPS then because you are not getting anything before supper. Now, go play.

Bear:.........can I have just one piece of candy?

ME: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!

Balance? Perhaps I should just work on focus

Balance. Ah, yes. Seems to be coming a little at a time. See? I'm posting!! Okay, well, right now I'm just typing. We'll see if this makes it to an actual post. However, it stands a much better chance than the many many posts as of late which have existed solely in my head. (Lots of space there, you know.)

I was able to play on the computer a bit, take the wrecked van to the shop for an estimate (don't ask...it's painful), go to physical therapy, do a load of laundry - including folding and putting away! - pick up the living room, cook supper, take Bug to soccer practice and even make a valiant attempt at putting the badges on Bear's Tiger Cub uniform. WHEW!

Sadly, I was decidedly unsuccessful at that last task as said badges were not, as I (erroneously) assumed, iron-on. And, as my sewing talents are sadly lacking, Bear went to his Scout meeting with a (gasp!) naked uniform. Oh, the humanity. BUT WAIT! SugarDaddy to the rescue! He is taking the uniform and patches to a tailor near base who will them sew the patches on securely so that Bear can attend future den meetings with his head held high.

geez...can you say tangent?!

I was however remarkably successful in the dinner department, preparing a very quick chicken stir fry that inspired two of the three SugarBabies to ask for seconds and then? THIRDS. So yummy it was. (Pay no attention to Bug. He is protesting most food right now and it is vexing me because my children have always been good eaters. Other parents ask to have my kids over for dinner just to watch them eat. Asparagus? More please! Salmon? Yes! Mushrooms? Peppers? Brussels Sprouts? Mmmmmmmm! (Okay maybe I'm pushing it with the Brussels sprouts, but, they are remarkably good eaters.) I know that this is why Bug is not eating. Because that child must make a liar out of me every chance he gets.)

School still seems to be going okay. Bug has only made one more trip to the office in the past month. For hitting. Brute. He's really not even the slightest bit contrite about it. He feels very justified in his actions most of the time. *sigh* He is going to be a Baptist preacher some day, I just know it. They all start out as little turds and then mellow. Well, mellow may not be the word but....oh, you know what I mean.

Bear has started coming out of his shell some as well. Heh. His teacher still loves him. But he is exploring his boundaries a little more lately, resulting in a conduct cut or two. Nothing office-worthy, though. Today, Mrs. Firstgrade told me that some of his classmates have complained that Bear has been hugging and kissing them. I have witnessed this and talked to him about it. But today we had to have a more direct, in-depth conversation to establish that this isn't acceptable at school. He was crestfallen. Bless his heart, he just gets so overcome with happiness and love for his friends, he wants to kiss them. I told him so save up all those kisses for me.

If you're really nice, I'll save some for you, too. Of course you'll have to come to Candyland to get them, but it will totally be worth it. Bear kisses are some of the sweetest in the world! Not that I'm partial.

This post is for Peaches...

...who is tired of seeing the book review that has been up for a week now.


I have about fourteen blog posts in my head about various things that I can't seem to form into actual coherent posts. So, you are getting a list of sorts of the randomness that is my life. Otherwise, I have no idea when I will sit down and do this again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

School started Monday. With as much bitching as I have done about the children driving me crazy and how in the hell could they have pushed school back two weeks, I was surprised to find myself feeling a little sad Sunday night. I really do enjoy my kids. Except of course when they are beating the crap out of each other. Or whining. Or waking me up at five o'clock in the morning for no reason.

SugarPlum and Bear both looked so grown up Monday morning! While I was a little sentimental seeing them, I was stunned when SD had to leave the room so overcome was he by the appearance of our oldest two. My sweet, marshmallow husband was brought to tears!

As expected, SP loves the fifth grade and the fifth grade seems to love her, so far. She has some good friends in her class, though not the child with the batshit crazy momma (whom I have decided not to expand on here because the woman really is mentally ill and it seems cruel and in bad taste to pick on her. If things get out of hand, however I reserve the right to rant about her!) She is really looking forward to being able to do PE again after missing the last six weeks of it last year after the broken collar bone.





I was a little apprehensive about Bear going into first grade. Mrs. Kindergarten had both of us worried about how Bear would do in first grade. Fortunately, Mrs. Firstgrade seems to love our Bear and said that, so far, he has been very well behaved and that he has done really well on his work. He got a 100/A+ on the first paper he did!! I like her so much. Honestly, it was all I could do not to hop in the car, drive over to Candyland Early Childhood Center, stick out my tongue, and say "Nyah Nyah Nyah!" to Mrs. Kindergarten. But, as I AM trying to set a good example, I chose to just walk around with a look of smug satisfaction on my face. And, of course praise Bear lavishly. Isn't he adorable?!

Bug, on the other hand is pissed. His school doesn't start until next week. And he doesn't understand WHY?!! Personally, things would have been much easier this week if he had been in school. I have about eleventeen appointments and other things to do. But we're managing.

Bug had a cavity in one of his molars a few weeks ago. He has something called hypoplastic enamel on a few of his molars (SugarPlum has it on her permanent molars - joy). So, Tuesday he went in to have a silver crown put on that molar to save him from further decay on that tooth. We decided to make it a cool thing for him to get a "silver tooth." Gray Gray told him that he would be like a pirate, which was just about the most awesome thing he had heard in a long time! He did pretty well. He was mostly mad that morning because he had to be NPO after midnight. That really wasn't a big deal in his mind until he woke up and he was hungry! Then he decided that perhaps we should do another day. Too bad for him. He looks cool now though. And he has told everyone he sees that he has a silver tooth.

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Well! Look at that! I guess I did have enough for a blog post. So I guess that now you will have to wait to hear all of the other exciting stuff that has been going on. Like how I had another freaking car accident. Yes, really. WTF is wrong with me?

And how we had a bunch of people over here for a party after SD rode in a bike race that morning and I was suffering from PTSD after that accident the day before.

And how, even though she doesn't want to play on a competitive soccer team, SugarPlum is traveling without us to a tournament as a guest player on the club team that is pursuing her. This should be interesting...

Yeah. I suck.

Okay, I'll be honest. I don't think that beach post is ever gonna happen. Now that we have been back for over two weeks, it just seems kinda lame. Yet, I have been hesitant to post anything until I tell you both (I'm being realistic now, nobody comes by here anymore as far as I can tell...) about the beach. Because it was great. And relaxing. And I wish that it could have gone on forever.


But we are back home and SD is back to work and the kids are.....dammit, the kids are all at home because some joker in the Texas legislature decided that it would be a great idea to move the start of school back two weeks. Said joker obviously has no kids. Because today it's 103 degrees and they won't even go play outside -- unless it is to play in the hot tub. Where is the logic there? No, they would rather stay inside and beat the shit out of each other and ask me every 38 seconds if they can have another snack. I don't know how we will ever afford them once they are teenagers. Heh. As if they will live into their teens.


So, about the dearth of posts. It isn't likely to get better any time soon. If the beach taught me anything, it was to appreciate the company of my husband and children. I have actually been enjoying SD. We have been having these great conversations (and other interactions *ahem*) sorta like when we were first dating and married. That's been good. And of course, my kids are always freakin' hilarious. Though now, I am able to better appreciate the humor of these crazy kiddos now that I am not the only person responsible for them day in and day out. As a result, I find myself NOT on the computer more than ever while I indulge my family with my loving attentions. I'm sure that will get old soon.

That said, I am sure that my wacky progeny will be committing many blogworthy acts, so things won't be totally dead around here. And, as I said, school starts in two weeks, so once I am able to hear myself think again, perhaps I will start posting a little more regularly. Perhaps....

Happy Tuesday!

Dear SugarBabies,

Why, oh why do you insist on beating the holy hell out of each other all day? I try to ignore it some of the time on the premise that you need to learn how to resolve conflicts by yourselves and that this is one of the many reasons that I have more than one children. After a while, however the screams become too much (or actual blood is shed) and I have to intervene with such brilliant edicts as, "I don't want anyone touching anyone else in this house for the rest of the day!!"

Other times, I am more sensible and sit you all down and give you long lectures about how we must be kind to one another and that hurting your brother (or sister) is NOT okay. Even if he has the truck you want to play with. Even if he just destroyed your Lego structure. Even if he looked at you with "that smarty-pants smile on his face." It is just not okay. And you will be confined to your bed for an indeterminate amount of time if it happens again.

And it ALWAYS happens again. Why is this? Are you brain damaged? Did you suffer some sort of head injury that I am as yet unaware of (most likely the result of an assault by one of your siblings)? Or are you just trying, yet again to make my head explode? Because, while in theory, that might be wicked cool, in the long run you will regret it because then there will be nobody to make your supper. And if you recall, I'm the only one who knows how to access Zoboomafoo from PBS Kids OnDemand. And really, what would your life be with out that smart-ass little lemur?

*ahem*

So, I beseech you. End the guerrilla warfare. NOW. My nerves are shot and I'm nearly out of Xanax. Daddy will be home in one week and you can go to work then on making HIS head explode. He'll have jet lag, so really it won't be much of a challenge. Until that time, however, please concentrate on familial harmony. Otherwise, I cannot guarantee that Daddy will come home to three kids. And while that idea does hold a certain appeal at times, someone will eventually alert the authorities and then we will have a real mess on our hands. Plus, I would lose that bet with Ms Elizabeth where I said that I could too make it for twelve months without killing one of the children. And I could really use that five bucks. So, if nothing else, let's do this for the money, shall we? It's all about the BenjaminsAbrahams.

All my love,

Your Mommy


PS As of today I have been blogging for two whole years! SugarBabies need to thank the blogosphere for providing this outlet for my frustration and anxiety. Things might have been a lot worse, otherwise!

Meanest Mommy In. The. World.

Did you hear that last night? Did you? The wailing and crying and shouts of protest and the gnashing of teeth. Did you hear it? I swear that they had to be able to hear it at least down to Austin and up to Oklahoma City (Holli?).

That horrible noise was the sound of my boys protesting and wailing about the removal of all toys from their bedroom and into big, black garbage bags. Was it some sort of "ambush" where I snuck up on them playing peacefully in their tidy, organized room?

No.

This was the exact consequence that I explained to them two hours earlier when I sent them into their room to pick up the disaster that they had created over the past 48 hours. I gave them several time warnings. "You only have one hour left!" "Thirty minutes until I come and finish cleaning up!" "Fifteen minutes!" "FIVE MINUTES to clean up, you guys!" "Okay! I'll be in there in one minute!"

And yet, those ungrateful little urchins had the nerve to act surprised when I came in with the Hefty Bag and began depositing toys into it. "No Mommy!! We're picking up! See??!" Yes, I saw that they were picking up right then, but when I walked in they had a good game of Garbage Man going (a game strictly forbidden in this house for several months now) and were, quite honestly doing exactly the opposite of "picking up."

No Mommy! Not my garbage truck! PLEASE not my garbage truck!

MOOOOMMMMEEE!! Don't take my fire engine! I looooooovvveeee it!

But Mommy! I am soooo tired!

Oh! not my dolphin!

That's my astronaut helmet! I Lob it!

Nooooo! Not Superman! (Mommies are like kryptonite!)

That helmet is Daddy's! He's going to be angwy with you!

What are you going to do with them? Throw them in the garbage can? (Answer: No, I am giving them to children who don't have any toys and will appreciate them and take care of them.)

Is this something new? No. Is this the first time I have confiscated toys in big black hefty bags? No. The second? Third? No and no. This is the FIFTH time I have done this over the past few months. SO they know that when I say that I'm going to, I mean it. Just like with almost everything else I say. I DO (usually) manage to follow through with the consequences I announce.

They kept telling me that they want Daddy. I had to inform then that Daddy was behind this plan 100% and that he would be doing the same thing were he here. He'll be here in twelve days. Won't they be disappointed when I'm not reprimanded for my meanness! (You'd better back me up on this, mister.)

Have I actually gotten rid of any of those millions of toys that I have taken? No. Not yet. Do I have about eleventy thousand bags and boxes of confiscated toys in my garage and dining room? Yes. Yes I do. And I AM going to give the lion's share of them away to the local women's shelter. I plan to sort through and keep out the ones I know that they actually play with and give the rest away. Thing is? After a day or two, they don't even mention those toys any more. Which tells me that these children have entirely too many toys. They may just get cardboard boxes for Christmas this year. They enjoy those more than anything else.

So, if you live near Candyland and you need toys, come on over. I'll be sorting out the baby stuff for Buttercup, but the rest is up for grabs. Lots of Tonka trucks, stuffed animals, and firefighter stuff. In the words of Bill Cosby's wife "I! Have had! ENOUGH! OF! THIS!" On the upside, if they keep this up long enough, it won't take much at all to clean up their toys. Because you can't clean up something that you don't even possess!

PS If anyone gets the bright idea to come toward MY bedroom, hefty bag in hand? Just save yourself the energy. I'm all fired up for a good fight and probably won't hold back. I've got a good three weeks of pent up anger at many, many different people and events and if you shake that bottle, it's gonna blow. Besides I'm sooooo tiiiirrred!

The consequences of teaching children the correct terminology for their body parts

The Google pervs are going to LOVE this post. *sigh*

I swear to L. Ron Hubbard that this is ALL true. Seriously. You can't make this stuff up.

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The discussion in the bathroom

Bug: Mommy, where does your tee-tee come out?

Me (thinking, Lord, I'm not in the mood for THIS conversation right now) ::trying to remain cool & nonchalant:: Out of my urethra, just like yours. Only girls' are tucked up more inside than boys'.

Bug (looking skeptical, but not sure how to respond): Well, then, where is your scrotum?

Me: Girls don't have scrotums. (scrota? scroti?)**

Bear: (looking absolutely horrified) Well then....where do you put your testicles??

Me: *sigh* Girls don't have testicles. We have ovaries and they are up inside of us about right here (pointing at lower abdominal area).

Bear: SugarPlum, too?

Me: Yes, all girls.

Bear & Bug ::silently exchange knowing look that says, "Clearly, WE got the better end of that deal!!"::

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The discussion in the dressing room

Bug walked in just as I was getting dressed after a shower....

Bug (with furrowed brow): Hey! I saw hair down there.

Me (once again trying to act like this is no big deal): Yeah, that happens to grown ups. They all get hair in weird places.

Bug (looking at me like I am crazy): WELL. Daddy has a penis!


aaand he stomps off

::Thank you, my little Freudlet::

**evidently it IS "scrota", because when I spell checked that is the option that was NOT highlighted. Who knew? See! I'm informative as well as humorous!

What is the opposite of Memorial?

I haven't seen it on the news or the internet anywhere, but from the events at my house yesterday, I would swear that it was not only Memorial Day, but also National Opposite Day. Because regardless of what I said, the children in this house (at least the ones possessing Y chromosomes) were doing the antithesis of whatever I directed.

Exhibit A: The result of my answering, "No, you may NOT play with the water hose. Go put it back and do not turn on the water!!": One boy in the tree house holding the hose while it sprays down on his buck nekkid older brother. Then, when commanded in a booming voice heard throughout Texas asked nicely to come over to the sidewalk, little brother in the tree house instead plunges himself, chest first in to the ginormous mud puddle made by the contraband water hose. What. the. fuck???

Exhibit B: "Pick up this living room" evidently means pullout every blanket, couch cushion, piece of paper, and toy (that hasn't already been confiscated due to not picking up) and distribute evenly across the room and into the entryway.

Exhibit C: "No, you cannot have a snack right now, we will be having supper in ten minutes" translates to "By all means, get yourself a popsicle and one for your brother. While your at it? Grab a cookie or two when you think I'm not looking."

Exhibit D: "Stay in your beds, be quiet and go to sleep and NO PLAYING" actually means, climb out of bed as soon as Mommy shuts the door and into your brother's bed and scream while alternately playing and beating the hell out of each other. And, just to be ironic, come interrupt Mommy reading to SugarPlum to tell her that "I bonked my head on Bear's bed."


I could go on & on, all the way to exhibit Z and beyond. But, I'm sure you get the idea. I think that they are trying to make my head explode. Because, come on, how cool would that be? And as an added bonus, I wouldn't be able to nag them to clean these brains up off the walls and floor, "right now, mister!"

They are awfully cute. And they give great hugs and kisses. Lucky for them. Because that's about all that's keeping me from selling them to the gypsies at this point.

Things you might find vaguely interesting

• SugarBug turned four on Monday.
• And I totally did NOT blog about it.
• Because I suck.
• We invited a few friends (all girls, heh!) to the obnoxious pizza place w/ the rat.
• Not so bad on a Monday at 11:00.
• I may try to post pix on Flickr soon.
• But first, help me think of a special "thank you" for the mom who bought my son a harmonica.
• Yesterday was Bear's kindergarten graduation AND SugarPlum's fourth grade awards.
• Kindergarten graduation - 9:30
• Fourth grade awards - 9:45
• Of course.
• I actually managed to make it to both without missing anything important!
• Because, you know, I rock.
• (forget that sucking part up there....everyone gets busy, right?)
• Today is the last day of school.
• SugarPlum has a 103 degree fever.
• SugarPlum is pissed.
• She was supposed to go to a slumber party tonight at her best friend's house.
• So, her friend moved the party to Sunday.
• THAT'S a good friend!
• Did I mention that it's the last day of school?
• help me!
• OOOOOH!!! I never told you that weSugarPlum got a 100% on ourher coelacanth project!
• All hail Bitchy Smurf!
• Only 38 more days of being a single mom.
• YAY!
• Or (depending on when you ask me) still 38 more days of being a single mom.
• Ugh!
• I'm having mood swings.
• heh
• A few weeks after he gets home, we are spending 10 days in Virginia Beach.
• On the actual, no kidding beach.
• Okay, in a HOUSE on the actual, no kidding beach.
• We will get to see lots of the Queen and the rest of the Royal family.
• And hopefully LBT and anyone else who wants to pop in and say hi!
• This weekend, though, I am hermetically sealing the house so as to not contaminate the rest of the town with out germs and we are going to clean and/or watch movies.
• Guess which will actually happen.
• Happy Memorial Day!

SugarPlum, Interrupted

Monday afternoon....

:::cell phone rings:::

"Mrs. LastName? This is the nurse at Candyland Elementary School. SugarPlum hurt her shoulder in PE this afternoon and you may want to go ahead and come get her."

"Ummm, okay. I'm over here at Candyland Early Childhood Education Center about to pick up my son (Bear). I will be over there in a few minutes."

"Well, do you want to come in and pick her up or would you rather her meet you out front?"

"If she could just meet me out front, that would be better, so that I won't have to unload the boys."


Yeah. I'm thinking that lordy that child can be a drama queen. And I really need to go to the grocery store on on the way home and now I will have a whiny 10 year old with me.

Bad Mommy.

I pull up to CES and the nurse is wheeling my child out in a wheelchair. Oh. shit. She and some other kids got tripped up in PE playing Capture the Flag and a little boy's head hit her squarely in the chest. Or shoulder. At that time it was unclear, but my girl was in such pain that she couldn't walk.

After dropping my boys off with a friend, I took SP to the ER, where we waited for approximately three weeks. Or two hours. Hard to say. When we finally got called, they x-rayed her chest and put us in a room. A friend of ours who works there came in and said that he saw the films and, "Dang! You did a good job, girl!" Somehow neither of us found this encouraging.

When the doctor came in, he showed us the film and we saw that SP's collarbone was not just broken, but broken in two places. Overachiever. She was put in a brace, given a prescription for Tylenol 3 and sent home. And THEN the fun began. Honestly, she handled all of it better than I would have when I was ten. Hell, probably better than I would now!

Of course, this is the week that fourth graders in TEXAS!! take the TAKS test. Being the freakishly smart child that she is, her teachers were a little dismayed, but understanding, that she would be absent for a couple of days.

Dismayed is an understatement when describing SP's reaction when she realized that there will be no soccer for the next three or four months. Her coach was less than thrilled to learn that he was losing his goalie. I'm just glad to have my baby.

Honestly, the child is even more of a badass than her brother. She has been getting by on nothing but Motrin for the past two days. She went back to school today, determined to make up the TAKS. AND? When offered the opportunity to go home after the test was finished? She chose to stay at school. See? Overachiever. *sigh*

The turmoil in our house because of this borders on hilarity. While Bug napped Wednesday, SP watched one of the Harry Potter movies in my room. Bug woke up much sooner than expected and got to catch the last half of the movie. The child who thought Cars was scary (WTF?) and he LOVED Harry Potter. Wednesday night at church, the boys told everyone who would sit still long enough about SP's accident. Only they don't completely get it, so it was like some twisted game of "Telephone" with people asking me all night how SP broke her chest bone,. Or her leg. Or her arm. Or whatever. And whenn would she be getting out of the hospital. Yeah.

The boys are feeling helpless and want to do something to help and comfort their big sister. Sadly, any attempts hugs and/or kisses were met with "WATCH OUT!" for fear of inflicting even more pain. So, now they come over to her and ever so gingerly kiss her on the leg or hand. It is just heartbreakingly sweet. And Bear was thrilled last night when SP, after having gone to the bathroom all by herself, needed help pulling her pants back up. That sweet boy was beaming at having been able to help his big sister. Heavens, I do love these children.

However.

The patient has decided that Mommy's bed is MUCH more comfy than her own and has taken up residence there. On my side. She must heal soon or I may never sleep again. *yawn*

Because, you know, it's all about ME.

My favorite email exchange so far this year....

Just a little fun between friends.....


From: CRB
To: Buffi
Subject: fyi
Date: Mon, 2 Apr 2007

for your information

PPPPPLLLLEEEAAASSSSEEEE

should I ever piss you off to the point of ending our friendship you must promise to continue to update me on the children somehow...see

i am sick and tired of getting really attached to my friends children only to 'lose' them when said friends bail (ie G & R)

and in return I would extend the same offer to you although totally unnecessary since you haven't pissed me off since 1989...

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Buffi wrote: IF you piss me off that much, I shall punish you by sending my children to live with you. Whether or not you choose to update me on their lives is entirely up to you.

I love you!!! hee heee heeeeeeee!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

~B

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CRB wrote: Bravisimadear!!!