Category Archives: parenting

Halloween Entrance

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I love decorating for Halloween.

May thru September?

Not so much.

But when we roll into October I’m ready with the Halloween decor.

When I was over looking at Yellow Bliss Road I saw her free Halloween Countdown printable and thought it would be perfect in our entry way.

I printed out her chart and then printed out some Halloween characters on an orange piece of paper.

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My kids take turns choosing which character to put up each morning.

As a former math teacher, I really wanted them to create a pattern with the shapes but they were having none of that idea.

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I just might admit to redoing their blue painters tape circles each morning after they head off to school.

IMG_2699Borrowed some ceramic owls from my daughter’s room.

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I added the orange pompoms that I had left over from a project several years ago and some purple beads.

I should probably add a black curtain over the shoe container in order to cover up our unsightly shoes but that’s just crazy talk really.

Happy Halloween Decorating!

The Rabbits

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I’m sure you are familiar with the phrase, “Anything for your children.”

Well, that phrase is the reason why my husband and I have turned our backyard into a  rabbit sanctuary.

Yes, a rabbit sanctuary.

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Really, if it was up to us, we’d let our dog eat the baby bunnies.

OK, maybe that’s a little harsh.

My husband would most certainly shoo the bunnies away before the dog got outside.

Because two little bunnies and their momma have moved into our yard, and because my eight year old animal loving son discovered their nest, my husband and I have taken to walking the dog three times a day.

This is the same dog who wants to spend all day outside now that it’s not 100 degrees but cannot because of Flopsy and Mopsy Cottontail.

So maybe it’s really three of us sacrificing for our son.

Roughly 20 times a day I hear the back door slam signaling to me that it’s only a matter of time before I have a bunny update.

When I asked my husband how we should move the bunnies he said, “I don’t think we should move them, we’ll wait till they grow up to let the dog outside.”

What the beep, beep, beep?

Are you kidding me?

I’m going to let you guess who promptly got sick shortly after those words were uttered and went to bed early, completely forgetting about taking the dog out. And then let you guess who was the person who went out walking the dog at 10:00 that night with a steak knife in one hand and a dozen plastic bags in the other.

And so we wait for the bunnies to grow up.

I’m giving them 3 more days before I let the dog out.

In the meantime I’m scouting out places where I can rent The Lion King.

Not sure if I’m going to focus on, “Hakuna Matata,” or “Circle of Life.”

We might let the dog decide.

It’s Here…

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It’s here…

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as well as 12 pages of band rules…

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required parent volunteer hours in the concession booth which requires a food safety class on a Saturday afternoon…

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and the herd of dying elephants running through my house at 5 pm everyday.

Adoption Letter

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We have been pretty open with our kids about the adoption process we are going through – the paperwork we have to fill out, travel arrangements that are to be made, saving our money, and much more. We haven’t sat them down and laid out spreadsheets and timelines but we don’t shield them from the process either.

Well, you never know what they are picking up.

My 4 year old and I went out to check the mail the other day.

She ran ahead and said, “I’ll get the mail.”

Reaching into the mailbox she yelled, “I’ve got an adoption letter!”

“You do?”

“Yes. It says to send money and the baby will come in a crate and then we will love them forever.”

Obviously she has some things correct and others not so much.

We talked about how we are sending money to people so that they can take care of our baby right now and that yes, one day the baby will come home but on an airplane and not in a crate.

At least she has the most important part correct, “we will love them forever.”

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Dear Costco

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Dear Mr. Costco,

My family loves visiting your store and sampling all those goodies your A1 hairnet troops are providing.

In fact, my husband loves it so much he needs a stern talking to before his trips there with our children.

We don’t need a six month supply of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Or the 7,000 Oreos (yes, it’s because I have no will power).

And for the love of God, just walk away from the 285 links of sausage.

The kids love the store too.

I’ve never seen people so excited to have free food – I’m talking hitting all nine food booths in record time while, of course, bypassing booth ten, the new fruit and veggie juice.

Yes, everyone loves your store sir.

But can I tell you want I don’t like about your store? Actually, I’m about to speak for all mothers out there. Yes, all mothers hate this Costco, so listen up!

Nothing gets on my/our nerves more than when I’m trying to leave your store and I must wait an eternity for your employee to draw a smiley face onto the back of my receipt.

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I mean really. Why? Why? Why?

Why must every exiting door employee take the time to do this when it’s probably obvious that we just really need to leave the store.

Is it in the training program?

Lesson 1 – MUST. STOP. EVERY. HAGGARD. LOOKING. MOTHER. AND. DETAIN. HER. FURTHER….

Lesson 2 -IF HER.KIDS. LOOK. LIKE. THEY. ARE. LOSING. THEIR. MIND. ENGAGE THEM IN CONVERSATION.

Is there a bonus involved with the number of smiley faces given out.

Just let me leave!!!!!

And really, it’s just not me. Guess who also doesn’t care about the smiley face and just wants to get home and rip open the bag with 5000 popcorn pieces?

My children.

After Picasso has finished drawing his neon smiley he slows the exiting process down even further by insisting to show one of the kids. When kid #1 has shown no excitement over the preschool drawing they move to kid #2 who’s response is just as lack lustered as the first.

So Mr. Costco, please change your policy. It should read, “As an employee it is your job to help the mothers out of the store as quickly as possible. If you don’t, there will inevitably be a meltdown and it’s anyone’s guess whether it will be the children or the mom who ends up crying. And if it’s the mom, you are on your own.”

Your loyal shopper,Jennifer

P.S. If you could have those toffee covered chocolates out for sampling next week I would really appreciate that.

And then…

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And then there was the time the Dillard’s sales lady laughed at my bra size.

Yes. Yes she did.

Huge boost to the self esteem.

Let me back up.

Since my bra supply was depleted I went in search of a few more.

I was strolling through the intimate apparel section in Dillard’s picking up pieces that I wanted to try on when a little old Asian sales woman came up to me.

“Do you need help?”

“Yes, I was looking for a bra that you can turn into a racerback.”

Blank face.

“I need a bra that can change from regular straps to racerback in the back.”

Blank face.

This time motioning with my hands, “I need a bra that can be both regular straps and have a criss cross in the back.”

“Ahhh, follow me……What size you need?

“22W.”

calvin-klein-perfectly-fit-racerback-bra-f2564-nude_1Since I have not posed for Mr. Hefner or suffer from severe back problems, I obviously don’t have a 22W bra size but let’s just use it so my pride doesn’t any suffer more.

Practically shrieking so the whole department can hear her, “22W! Hahahahahahaha. Those bras don’t come in that size. You have to go up to 22Y. Hahahahahahahahahaha.”

22W she heard. Racerback, not so much.

Ha ha ha said no one but the little old Asian lady who, might I add, is even more streamlined than me.

I ended up not buying anything. You know, bad feelings and all.

Probably going to go out again and test the waters at a different store.

This time I’m going to go in with a sign on my chest, “Back off people, I’ve kept 3 children alive with these breasts. They may be smaller than when those kids got to them but they are still standing up nice. Oh wait, did I step on your huge sagging breast. Pardon me. Did I say that loud? Hahahahahahaha.”

What My Boys are Cooking

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Each summer the boys are in charge of one dinner a week.

The only condition in choosing food is that it can’t be something they have already cooked this summer.

The boys enjoy cooking and have been pretty good about ensuring that there is either a fruit or salad with the meal. They have made sure to steer clear of any veggies on the menu.

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Here’s what they have served:

Week 1:

 Alex: Grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, grapes
Andrew: Beef tacos and cantaloupe
 
Week 2:
 
Alex: Chicken patties on bun, fries, and strawberries
Andrew: Cheese sticks as an appetizer 🙂 , 3 types of pizza (including mac n’cheese pizza), and blackberries & blueberries
 
Week 3:
 
Alex: Cheese raviolis with homemade red sauce, cheese bread, and salad
Andrew: Homemade calzones with salad
 
Week 4:
 
Alex: Spaghetti, homemade red sauce, homemade meatballs, and salad
Andrew: Hot dogs, chips, fruit, and yogurt
 

Maybe not all are the healthiest options but I want to make sure it’s their meal and not mine.

I’m hoping all of this cooking by them pays off so in a few years they will be doing all the summer cooking (insert evil cackle).

A HOLY Mother F****er Service

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Yesterday while we were at church an older man leaned over and whispered, “Your children are so well behaved.”

I smiled, thanked him, and gave myself a little encouraging mental tap on the shoulder.

Less than a minute later Caroline broke my toe.

I think.

I was standing while singing the hymn when I felt a huge pain surge through my foot.

It is only by the grace of God that I did not scream,” Holy Mother F***er.”

I looked down to see that she had pushed down the little kneeling step onto my big toe.

My open toed sandals did not cushion the blow.

I sternly but quietly said, “Stop that right now. That hurt, ” to which she turned her body away from me and started “singing” the hymn.

I’m pretty sure it went something like this:

What a fool my mother is…She can’t do anything to me in church…Everyone is watching us here so she will not put me in time out or give me a spanking….I love church.

Yes, I’m willing to bet that’s how her song went because 5 minutes later she decided to do it again.

But this time she finished off by standing on the bench as well.

This time I did make a noticeable sound.

While I glanced down at my toe it was red but not bleeding.

I hoisted her onto my hip and would not put her down for the last 10 minutes of the service which I’m pretty sure really lasted for 45 minutes.

After church I spoke to her again about how much that hurt and she seemed to get it.

Either way, I’m wearing tennis shoes to church next week.

I am old…

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I am old.

At least my two teenage babysitters make me feel old.

Let me explain.

We have two teenage sisters who babysit our kids occasionally.

After a night of babysitting I typically drive them home.

During our short drive home I hear, “Yes, ma’am” about 10 times. It starts to make me feel like I’m a senior citizen. I realize I am not sixteen years old and look one hundred and four to these girls, but seriously, must I be called ma’am?

Isn’t that reserved for women my mother’s age? – Sorry, mom. You are ageless in my eyes:)

The other reason I feel old with them?

When I finish telling a story or a tidbit about my day, they say “That’s so funny.”

Every time. For every story.

And that makes me realize…it’s not funny.

They are just saying that to an old lady who is trying to entertain them during what is probably the longest drive of their life. For me it’s a quick 10 min drive. For them, it’s must feel like we live in different states.

And what’s the worst?

“That’s so funny, ma’am.”

I think I’m going to start looking for a middle age babysitter.