…and there was this teeny weeny baby spider crawling down my nose…..
…so I smashed it. The end! ”
That was the first conversation I had this morning. Well, The 7 year old was telling me about this. I was blearily trying to comprehend.
Yeah, first convo, no coffee…yet.
Sometimes it’s almost like you’re still dreaming when that happens. But I know I wasn’t. My dreams were interrupted hours ago by arguing children…in my bed no less. But that’s okay and I’ll explain why in a sec.
A Frozen Field trip to the dump to find toothbrushes
This all started last evening. Although D had to head in to work at midnight (quarterly inventory – ick) we thought it would be fun to surprise the girls with a movie and dinner. So I bought 4 tickets to Frozen, (super duper cute BTW. I would totally buy it) told the kids we were taking a field trip to the dump to find toothbrushes and off we went to the 3:10 matinee.
Don’t worry, they only sort of believed us about going to the dump to find toothbrushes. Well, at first, until The Blond One figured out that it was code for “it’s a surprise so stop asking.” Actually though, because D and I are the kind of people that like to tease our children, and each other, and our friends…..and perfect strangers, we decided that some time we’re going to tell them we ‘re going to dinner and a movie…
…and then take them to the dump I’ll let you know when that happens & how it goes.
So, after we got home, and ate copious amounts of ice cream, D went down to bed and the girls and I decided to continue our Princess movie marathon deep into the night. So deep into the night, in fact that D got up, had coffee and went to work before we gals even went to bed. I think we watched everything on Netflix!
But, THAT is how the girls ended up in my bed. Once we’d passed the midnight mark, I had no interest in tucking in, telling stories, tickling backs and singing songs. After 9:00 I turn into a damn pumpkin and all bets are off. So to soften the blow, I suggested they crawl in with me. It was well accepted and down to the Cave (the basement IS the master bedroom) we headed.
A Thief and a Thug.
As you may well know kids in the bed are not without challenges. We’re not co-sleepers. We’re just too lazy to deal with sending our kids back to their own beds if they’ve had a nightmare or something. Thank God that very often, they just needed a hug and some reassurance and prefer to go back to their own room. They blame the discomfort of our bed on us. But it’s not us. ITS THEM! I mean it’s a massive king sized bed for hell sakes! Everyone should fit comfortably. It’s why we bought it. But we don’t and here’s why:
We have a thief….and a thug. In other words, it never fails….you just start to get comfy, let your guard down and doze off….and….
You get blasted in the nose or lip by the blond one’s fist.
Sometimes you get lucky and it’s an open back hand, which stings, but doesn’t connect quite as solidly as a fist.
Sometimes, the thug will miss, but the Thief….she’ll get you every time.
You see, The Little Brown One….is a heater. It can be -0 degrees in this joint and she’ll be sleeping with one small blanket. Her baby blanket which is 3 sizes too small considering she’s now almost 9. It was cute when she was little. The blanket kicking. It really was. She was a tiny little peanut and as all tiny peanuts do, her head was usually scooched waaaaaayy up into the head board so when she kicked the covers off, they only really went down to your shoulders or maybe as far as an elbow.
But now! Now, when she steals the covers (kicks them off) you freeze your shoulders, elbows, ass and knees off.
Both the Blond and the Brown one will steal your space. They snuggle up, heat WAYY up and you scooch away. They find you, snuggle up again, heat Waaaay up and you scooch away. It continues this way until you’re hanging off the edge of the bed, contemplating whether or not it’s worth it to grab your pillow (if you can get it back) and go sleep in their bed. Or on the couch. Or anywhere else!!!
The argument in the morning
But this morning was different. You see, normally, if I had woken up because of kids arguing – in my bed no less – The Queen Bitch Dragon Mother of the Universe would have risen up from the covers, hovered a foot over the bed, breathed fire and incinerated every living thing within a 15 foot radius.
But the difference is…I SLEPT GREAT!
I had plenty of space. Plenty of covers. Plenty of my own pillow. I stayed warm all night and had a few annoying dreams, but mostly I had really cool adventure dreams no doubt brought on by the non-stop princess action adventure movies.
But the Thief and the Thug….had apparently inflicted their talents upon each other all night…on D’s side of the bed and about 9 a.m. finally started telling each other all about it.
Well rested as I was, I slipped out of bed unnoticed, had a pee and when I came out they’d moved into opposing corners and had fallen back asleep – just long enough for me to head up to the kitchen and get the brown elixir of life brewing.
At which point the Thug (Blond one) came up stairs and told me all about how she’d woken up with a teeny weeny baby spider crawling down her nose.
And you know the rest.
Okay, so organization is NOT my strong suit. Never has been.
But here’s what I discovered this past week…..
I need to get myself that way QUICK like a bunny.
Because this morning I was all too relieved to get the kids on to the bus. This is a common theme among parents right after spring break. We get really excited that our kids have a week off and by the end of the week, we’re about ready to tear our hair out! I’ve never been very good at being consistent so we have to do constant reprogramming.
I realize I bring this upon myself.
But summer is fast approaching and not only that, but (and we’ll know tomorrow) we’ve applied our girls to a virtual academy for next year (similar to home school) so June 6th 2013, may very well be there last day of public, brick and mortar schooling and that means….
I need to get my shit together RIGHT NOW! We need a chore chart. We need a schedule. We need organization and we need it right now!!!
It’s time to do what I should have done all along!!! Batten down the hatches, hoist the sales and start runnin’ a tight ship!
And somebody needs to clean up this damn house!
So, my goals for today are to re-instate the almighty chore chart. Which has worked very well in the past, but fell away as the little tags kept getting knocked on the floor for Fat Dog to eat. (Fat Dog is our 11 year old lab who eats anything and everything, including, but not limited to underwear, chore tags and pork chops).
Also on my To do list for this beautiful April Foo—uh, April First:
Short sheet the kids beds & D side of the bed.
Put all of Z’s animals on S’s bed & all of S’s on Z’s.
And think up some other good ones as the day goes on.
Right! Okay. Time to go git ‘er did!
Oh, my sweet, sweet Z.
That poor child has the curse of being exactly like me.
I had the curse/blessing of being exactly like my mom…
and you know what that means.
We either get along great and have whole entire conversations about the people around us with our eyes…or we can’t be in the same room together for 30 seconds without blowing up.
Well this weekend we had different kind of bonding time…it was sort of awful…but still somehow brought us closer.
So, Friday evening Z was up on the counter helping me make brownies (and for those of you going “hey nice paleo diet faker!!!” I would just like to say that I only ate one spoonfull of mix so thhhhhhhhhppppppppppppp! – It was for the kids!) Anyway…..just as she scooted off of the counter, I opened up the drawer just below her and her poor little butt cheek landed right on the corner of the drawer.
Poor kid!!! It was hard enough to rub the paint off of the drawer, rip her pants and take a divot out of her butt cheek.
I don’t know….I’m full of bonehead maneuvers this weekend. I mean it was just one of those things where, if I had really been paying attention, I would have noticed that she was setting herself up to get down.
She screamed. We both cried. I felt terrible and helped her find some softy pants that didn’t rub her poor damaged little cheek.
Well, it get’s better….so Saturday Z and I were once again in the kitchen and this time we were getting things out to make dinner. I was in the fridge rummaging around and right as I stood up, she opened the freezer door and BAM!!!
I nailed my forehead on the edge of the freezer door.
Bloody hell!!! I haven’t had a knot on my head in years! But I have one now and it hurts like a mutha!
You will be amazed! I didn’t even cuss. Well unless
“Gah—–FFFFFFFffffllliippen——-sunofa———–ohhhhh BLOODY HELL THAT HURT!” is cussing.
Well I know in Europe “Bloody” is cussing. But Not in the U.S. right? And like the mother of the year that I am, I was sure to tell her not to say “bloody” at school. So I’m covered right?
So that is how we tightened our bonds this weekend. I think next weekend we’ll find a better way.
So The girls each got a couple of new packs of underpants yesterday. Which is AWESOME ’cause they needed them.
I have no idea where little kids underpants continually disappear to….okay that’s a lie, I know exactly where they disappear to…but it’s too disgusting to mention.
Okay, I’ll mention it: She weighs 82 lbs, black fur, white feet, has big brown eyes and eats every disgusting thing under the sun….that’s right…it’s the underpants snarfing Labrador.
So, anyway, back to the new underpants, since I’ve already cleaned the old underpants up in those awesome little green baggies, you know the kind you wear like a glove so you can have just slightly more dignity than picking it up with your bare hands, when the neighbors watch you bend down and pick up shit (well orange and white striped shit because it’s mostly underpants).
Soooooooo….anyhoo…..Since they realized they now have a drawer full of fully sanitized, clean and awesome underpants…my kids have worn nothing but a T-shirt and….UNDERPANTS.
T-shirt and underpants.
I was even informed, by a little blond child with attitude (hard to do when your sleepy head looks like ALL of the spiders have nested in your hair and you’re sporting little green froggies on your butt cheeks, but she pulled it off) that since there is no school today, they both plan on hanging out all day in their T-shirts and underpants. LOL!!!
It reminded me of when I was a kid…in a galaxy far, far away and Underoos were invented.
Do they even still have Underoos? I have no idea, all I know is that the 1970’s – 80’s transition was an awesome time to be a kid!!!
Nothing screams POWER like Wonder Woman underoos under your Good Times T-shirt and brown cords.
Ok, so you all know how much fun I like to have at Spammers expense….
Well, this one is going to be particularly fun because these spammers seem to have a fetish with something really gross….I’ll give you a hint….all moms have had to deal with this in some form or another!
Our first comment is from Darlene Spammers who writes :
“It’s difficult to find educated people for this subject, but you seem like you know what you’re talking about! Thanks”
I would like to take this moment to share with you the blog post that Darlene has commented on Poop Ninja Fail
Why Yes! Yes Darlene, I am quite well versed in the nuances of all things poopish. I am a mother of two. I watch a 2 year old 5 days a week and have two large labs that need to be walked 2 or 3 times a day. I’m glad you noticed and commented on my skill.
Now, Darlene, I have a question for you! Pray tell, WTF keyword did you use to land on my site and Why TF were you using it. It had to be Poop, Ninja, or Fail, and I’m telling you now, I didn’t rank very high on Google for either Ninja or Fail.
Comment #2 is from Renata Spammer ( I assume Renata and Darlene are related because they both hail from the same spammy website)
Renata was also kind enough to post her comment on Poop Ninja Fail
After looking over a number of the articles on your web site, I really like your technique of blogging. I book-marked it to my bookmark webpage list and will be checking back soon. Please check out my website too and let me know what you think.
Dear Renata, Dear, dear, sweet Renata,
Sweetheart. You are full of shit (pun intended). There is nothing on this blog even remotely resembling an article as you would know if you and your family from the land of spun spam would know if you were bloggers instead of spammers! And I ask you the same question that I asked Darlene. WTF keyword did you use to find my “article” on poop? Could it have been poop?
My my my, that was fun!
I have no clue how to cure a potty mouth.
I was hoping you did.
I’ve gotta be honest here. I’ve got Ralph beat as far as being a soap connoisseur. Well, not recently, but my potty mouth and therefore my relationship with soap began at the ripe age of 8. Maybe as early as 6, but 8 is as far back as I can remember (unless you count the timeout I got when I was 2 for one too many “no’s” – no idea why I remember that, but clearly it didn’t stick).
And while my 7 year old is really good about following rules, and gets on my case when I let certain bombs slip, the 6 year old has been known to drop a “Bullshit” or two when she thinks no one is listening.
The thing is…you would probably be surprised who I picked up the potty mouth from. Sure my folks have done their fair share. But it was actually……my Grandma. I would like to say my sweet, little 5 foot tall grandmother…but let’s be real. That woman was 5 feet of fury and although she has passed on, I will always cherish our moments of bonding over coffee and “Spanish lessons”…. And tortillas. Can’t forget the tortillas.
By the time I was 10 I was proficient in swearing in both English and Spanish. English being my first language and Spanish being my great-Grandparent’s first language and although it wasn’t spoken much in the home when my grandmother was a girl (that’s another interesting story), she was still obviously, fluent.
By the time I was 16 I could swear in three languages. Thanks to 3 years of French class and a friendship with a French foreign exchange student.
By the time I was 18, thanks to yet another foreign exchange student, I added a little German to the mix.
Learning to cuss in languages my parents didn’t understand was quite helpful actually. Well, at least once I figured out that tone and inflection had just as much to do with it as anything.
At about 16 my parents pretty much gave up trying to get me to stop with the cursing and finally just said, Don’t do it at school, in front of your Grandma’s, in public places or at us. Rules, we could mostly live by….well, as far as they knew.
Okay, well, as an arrogant know it all teenager…as far as I assumed they knew.
Hijo de puta!!!! What if my kids turn out just like me?
Sometimes I wish I didn’t even own a T.V. Of course it’s really nobody’s fault but my own of I watch stupid crap.
But the crap show we had on last night, almost took the cake.
Yeah, it was the one about Sasquatch hunters.
I just have one question.
Well that’s not true, I actually have a lot of questions, but here’s my first one.
Given the apparent high volume of Sasquatch hunters in North Carolina and Oklahoma, did it ever occur to any of them that the S’quatch they just heard screaming through the dark was just some other redneck hicks running around in the woods screaming and getting overly excited when one of the other 5 groups of sasquatch hunters in the woods screams back.
Look, its’ not that I don’t think that the Sasquatch, Loch Ness monster and extraterrestrials don’t exist. I’ve never seen any of them. So I can’t say one way or the other.
I’m just saying, since no one has ever captured one or seen it as it is screaming our howling, how the fuck do you even know if the sound your making when you’re screaming like a jackass in the woods is really a S’quatch noise?
No doubt things scream in the woods. Predators do kill other animals and I’ve watched enough Animal Planet to know that animals scream when they’re being eaten alive by say….a mountain lion or bob cat.
I have no doubt that hunting a S’quatch is really exciting and get’s your blood pumping. Like, say, when you’re hiking in the woods at night and some jackass in the group has to ask
“Hey! Do you guys remember the Blair Witch?”
And what happens if you do discover a Sasquatch?
I can’t really say, but you should get your dreams of Harry and the Fucking Hendersons out of your head right now! I doubt he’s going to join your family and go on vacations with you. Clearly they are smart enough to avoid humans for the most part. Probably because they can’t figure out why the fuck you’re out in the woods howling!
Really. Prince Harry, Got Naked In a Hotel Room? OMG!!!
Okay, this is totally off the hip. I’ve got channel 5 news on this morning. I NEVER EVER watch the news, but I was expecting to possibly catch a glimpse of my husband as this news channel is doing a morning show at the store he works at.