Stupid Facebook Quiz

You guys have probably all seen the quiz that’s been making the rounds through Facebook recently. A bunch of questions created by someone who obviously has way too much time on his/her hands, intended for a mom to ask her kids (and/or husband). So, because I obviously don’t have anything better to do, like taking care of a baby, doing laundry, cleaning the house, washing dishes . . . or anything else productive, I’m gonna go ahead and just do it.

Wait, what’s that kid chewing on now? Hold on, I’ll be right back . . .

Ok, just an electrical cord. No big deal. He’ll be fine. It will take him a while to gnaw through that plastic coating anyway. Let’s get to the important stuff. Quiz time!

I asked my oldest boys, and then even my husband, these questions. I will say that it was somewhat enlightening. I even tried to get the baby to give me some answers, but couldn’t quite figure out what he meant by, “eeeeeeeeeeee, bababamamamababamama.” If anyone speaks baby, let me know what he had to say.

Alright, let’s get this party started. First up to bat . . . the 7 year old. Here goes. (My reaction/comments on their answers are in italics).

1. What is something I always say? Go clean up the playroom (true).

2. What makes me happy? Coffee (yep).

3. What makes me sad? Don’t know.

4. How do I make you laugh? Tickling.

5. What was I like as a child? Happy and loved unicorns (um . . . sure).

6. How old am I? 40

7. How tall am I? 4 feet (so close).

8. What is my favorite thing to do? Go shopping (not even a little).

9. What do I do when you’re not home? Do laundry (sadly, yes).

10. What am I really good at? Taking care of the baby (awww, sniff).

11. What am I not very good at?  Being up in the morning without coffee (this boy knows me).

12. What do I do for a job? Take care of the baby. You quit your job as a . . . lawyer? (ding ding ding).

13. What is my favorite food? Sushi (not exactly, but ok).

14. What do you enjoy doing with me? Watching movies.

Next up, the 10 year old.

1. What do I always say?  Take the trash out.

2. What makes me happy?  When the baby’s being good and my brother and I are behaving.  And your kids are at school (this question was asked while the boys had been home for the 187th snow day this winter).

3. What makes me sad?  One of us getting hurt?

4. How do I make you laugh?  Telling a joke that’s funny.

5. What was I like as a child? I don’t know, I wasn’t living then!

6. How old am I? 40

7. How tall am I? 5’4″ (even closer!).

8. What is my favorite thing to do?  Probably relax or go on a vacation where you don’t have to do stuff (so much this).

9. What do I do when you’re not home? Your work:  take care of the baby, dishes, laundry, bottles, feeding the baby.  You know, chores.

10. What am I really good at?  Art and work around the house.

11. What am I not very good at?  Keeping your cool (FALSE!!  Um, I mean . . . who me?).

12. What do I do for a job?  Stay home and work around the house (please note his and his brother’s answers to this question . . . before we get to their father’s response below).

13. What is my favorite food? Sushi (again? ok).

14. What do you enjoy doing with me?  Taking walks around the neighborhood.

And finally, the hubs’ answers.  Brace yourselves.

1. What is something I always say?  Can you hold the baby for a minute.

2. What makes me happy?  Baths, sleeping in, reading books, personal time away, sitting in your chair (all correct, and sadly, all things I hardly ever get to do).

3. What makes me sad?   Your old job.

4. How do I make you laugh?  When you sing (mean!).

5. What was I like as a child? Beautiful & carefree (um, sure).

6. How old am I? 41 in a week (2 days now, but yes).

7. How tall am I? 5’6″ (when I told him I’m 5’5 1/2″ he just said he rounded up.  Uh huh, ok).

8. What is my favorite thing to do? Take a bath.

9. What do I do when you’re not home?  Take care of the kids, you know, you do your thing.

10. What am I really good at?  Remembering birthdays, sending cards to people you care about, and reading with the kids (very perceptive and correct!).

11. What am I not very good at? Finances (Ha!  Hello, pot. I’m kettle, nice to meet ya!) and cleaning (well, I just don’t like it, doesn’t mean I’m not good at it).

12. What do I do for a job? Housewife (which led to a 5 minute diatribe from yours truly about how I am not defined by my role as his wife because it’s not the 50’s and he doesn’t own me, etc.).  Ok, fine, whatever PC thing it’s called now. (So much better, thanks).  (Please note that my hubs is really not a misogynist, which is why I found his answer so surprising and kinda funny).

13. What is my favorite food? Pasta (there we go!).

14. What do you enjoy doing with me? Just gazing into your eyes.  (Very funny).  Ok, traveling with you, talking to you . . . when you’re not yelling at me.

So there you go.  A little insight into the minds of my boys.  Discovering what your family thinks of you is always interesting.  I was pleasantly surprised with many of my boys’ answers, and not quite as enthralled with the hubs.  But then again, when you ask a question, I guess you have to be prepared for an answer.  Whether it’s the answer you wanted/expected, or not.

I guess they’ll still get dinner tonight.

 

Advertisement

Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

I’ve cracked. Just like an egg, my shell is completely shattered and I’m completely scrambled. And I don’t know if anyone can put me back together again.

What has broken me? Well, my kids, of course. What else?

Last week, pre-blizzard, my husband had to go away for a week for a training session for work. He left on a Friday night and did not return until the following Thursday night. My kids were home for 3 full days because of MLK day, and I thought I was going to go a bit crazy.

Pfft, I had no idea what crazy was at that point.

The blizzard hit us Friday afternoon. My kids were supposed to have a half day, returning home early from school, but because of the pending snow storm, they closed schools for the whole day. The snow started 2 hours after they would have gotten home.

We got a ton of snow. Over 2.5 feet in my area. We were completely snowed in the entire weekend. However, the snow stopped late Saturday night and the plows were out early Sunday morning.

I wasn’t surprised when my kids’ school was closed on Monday. There was still a huge amount of snow on the ground and on the roads. Snow plows were still out plowing and salting, but it was going to take a while to beat back the extreme amount of winter weather that had been dumped on us. The kids were happily playing outside in the snow, having snowball fights, sledding, etc. It was all good.

On Monday afternoon, we were told that schools would be closed again on Tuesday. At this point, the roads were pretty clear, but we figured the school system was just being overly cautious. My husband was working from home, so I at least had a bit of help. The kids were outside again, this time building a snowman, and even went over to a neighbor kid’s house to go sledding for a while. Things were fine.

And then they closed the schools on Wednesday as well. At this point, everyone was pretty much ready for the kids to go back to school, including the kids. And we thought that another day off was a bit much.  My boys were tired of the snow and didn’t really want to go outside to play any more. Instead, they opted to stay in and play video games pretty much the entire day. And my husband was away again for a couple of days for work.  This was getting ridiculous.

But the ridiculousness was not to end yet.  Oh no, because schools were closed yet again on Thursday!  The snow had melted at this point down to maybe around six inches, and you could even see grassy patches in some places. The roads were completely clear and safe to drive on. It had been 4 full days since the snow had stopped. We really couldn’t understand why the kids weren’t going to school at this point. And everyone was going stir crazy.

At this point, I had to drag the kids away from the video games, lest their brains begin to atrophy and turn to mush. I demanded reading of books and other non-screen activities. Eventually, I let them watch a movie. And after that, they drifted back to their games. The sheer amount of video games played in my house over the past week cannot be quantified by modern technology.

Can you guess what happened on Friday? Yep, no school. Again. By the time they go back to school on Monday (dear baby jeebus, let them have school on Monday!) they will have been home 13 out of the past 16 days.

I love my kids. I really do. And I love spending time with them. But my current job is taking care of a very active baby and trying to get all the chores done over the course of the day, while chasing him around, saying, “No. No. Stop. Come back here. Don’t touch that. Etc.” I also need to go grocery shopping occasionally, and dragging 3 kids around the store is not a joy, let me tell you. I need my kids to go to school.

I really need my kids to go to school.

Because their mom isn’t just scrambled.  She’s completely fried.

A Day in the Life

Since I’ve recently changed careers, going from a 9-5 career woman to a stay at home mom, things have been quite different in my life.  And since I am the only person who has ever changed from business mom to home with the kids mom, I figured that I’d give you all a little treat and do something really different . . . blog about it.  I know, it’s crazy!  It’s almost like I’m a . . . hmmm, what’s the term I’m looking for . . . I think I’ll call it, mommy blogging!  Sounds completely unique and creative, right?  And really, what could be more exciting for you than to hear all about how I take care of my kids and house all day, every day.  Buckle in, folks.  It’s gonna get bumpy!

Did you know that kids wake you up really early?  I know, what the hell, right? I figured once I quit my job and stayed home with the kids, I’d get to sleep in late, then take a long, luxurious bath while reading a book, getting out just before I became too pruney and right before it was time for my late morning nap.  But noooooo, the kids are all “F that noise!”  They wake me up and expect me to feed them.  Needy little bastards!

So I make a bottle for the baby and real breakfast for the older boys (I tried passing bottles all around, but they weren’t having it). Then the requisite emptying and refilling of the dishwasher (I might do about 18 loads of dishes a day . . . not sure how we dirty that many dishes!), before I can finally get a cup of coffee.  Has anyone heard about moms that never get to finish their coffee and it gets all cold and they reheat it a bunch of times over the course of the day, never getting to drink it?  Yeah, not me.  The one thing that is non-negotiable is that I get to drink that damn cup of coffee so that I can function for the rest of the day.

Once I pack up the boys’ lunches and get them on their bus, I put the baby down for a nap and grab a quick shower.  Then, obviously, I just lounge around all day with my feet up, eating bon bons while the maid serves me chilled beverages and massages my feet.  Or, as my kids believe, I just watch TV all day.  Ok, probably neither of those things.  Depends on the day, but sometimes I run errands once the baby wakes up, rushing to get home before lunch/nap time for him (and trying to keep him awake in the car so that I actually get a nap out of him after lunch).  Or, on the stay at home days, I alternate between doing laundry, cleaning up after my kids, organizing the house . . . and getting to play with the baby in his “baby jail.”

Mickey is our favorite!

After I feed him lunch and put him down for his nap, I finally get to have my lunch, around 2:00.  And yes, I sit my ass in front of the TV at this point and eat my lunch.  Then I get back to cleaning up, etc.  Soon after, the boys arrive home from school and the baby wakes up.  This is my busiest time of the day because I’m juggling the kids’ homework, feeding the baby, making lunches, getting dinner ready and washing out bottles.

Once the kids are all fed their dinner, and if the weather is nice like it was all last week, we might go for a quick walk around the neighborhood before it gets too dark.  On one such walk we saw 13 deer on the hill behind our house (yes, we counted multiple times), were attacked by bats as we walked past one house (twice), and watched the sunset on our way back home.

On days that it’s not warm and temperate, I usually just play with the baby in jail while I yell at my older boys to stop wrestling, which they ignore until someone gets an elbow in the eye and starts crying.  Yep, I have boys.  Good times.

Once I get the baby to bed, finish loading the rest of the dishes and wash the last bottle of the day, I finally sit down to eat my own dinner.  This is the time of day that I finally get to relax.  Unless there’s laundry that still needs to be folded.  Or my oldest son wants to read with me (we’re working our way through Harry Potter.  It has only taken us about 2 years and counting).  Or my middle child wants to show me some Lego creation he has made.  But otherwise, total relaxation!

So, as you can see, my life is perfection right now! Actually, I do not miss my old job at all.  But I do miss certain aspects of working out of the home.  I miss vacation days.  I miss conversations with adults.  I miss lunches out with friends.  I miss time alone in my office where I can check my email, Facebook and blog.  I miss being able to grocery shop by myself before coming home to the kids.

But . . . as much as I miss all of that, I wouldn’t go back if they paid me!  I mean, obviously I was being paid then and now all I make is bupkis.  But I do get paid in cuddles and giggles from the baby and lots of hugs from my older boys.  And really, who wouldn’t want to spend every waking minute with this gorgeous boy?

He’s gorgeous, you’ll just have to trust me on this.

 

Catching Up

So . . . yeah. Ok, it’s been an eternity, but I really do have a valid excuse. I pushed an entire human person out of my nether-regions and that tiny human hasn’t let me sleep since. There is very little time for blogging in my world right now, honestly. But I did want to let everyone know that I am indeed still here, albeit entirely consumed by a little hungry tyrant who demands my every waking moment. And most of my sleeping moments as well. For the first 3 months, all he did was scream and eat. Lather, rinse, repeat. And while, obviously, that’s what newborns do so suck it up already, it’s been tiring and draining to say the least.

But I’m guessing you want details, right?  Yes?  No?  Who are you again?  Maybe?  Well, let’s go back.  To a magical time when I was getting 8 hours of sleep a night (except for the 4 times a night I got up to pee).  There I was . . . very pregnant and excited for my 3rd child to be born, and hoping he would grace us with his presence early.

I  had the big belly . . . I had the painted toes . . . I had the nursery all ready.  Now, all we needed was a baby!  He faked us out by pretending to come a week early, but once I got to the hospital, he apparently changed his mind.  Damn you, Braxton Hicks!!  He played with my emotions for about a week, with occasional contractions that made me hopeful, but ultimately ended in disappointment and frustration.  Finally, though, on his due date, he started making moves to enter the world.  For real this time.  So, after being up all night with contractions that continued until the next afternoon, a labor that was quite harrowing as his heartbeat slowed drastically with every contraction, and an epidural that slipped out of my back and had to be re-administered during the worst pain I’ve ever experienced in my life, he finally entered the world.  On December 1st, at 7 pounds, 4 ounces and 21 inches, he was healthy and beautiful.  I mean, just look at him!

And since that moment he has totally filled my world and my heart.  I am with him pretty much every moment of the day and it is wonderful, frustrating, fulfilling and exhausting.  However, once he arrived, I made a pretty drastic decision.  I will no longer be a slave to the corporate world as an attorney, but will instead solely be a slave to my kids as . . . wait for it . . . a stay at home mom!  Since this is my last baby, I just couldn’t hand him over to child care workers and run back to work, like I did with my first two kids.  So, my new full time job is MOM.  We sent the au pair off about 2 weeks ago, and so far it’s been great.  I mean, it’s tough trying to juggle the newborn and also the older kids’ school schedules, but that’s only temporary.  It will get a bit more manageable when the baby is older and not eating every 2-3 hours.  But so far, I think I’m doing fabulous at my new job.  I mean, I even clean the baby occasionally!

And I think I even worked out what was making him scream so much.  At first I thought it was colic.  Then the doctor said it was just reflux.  But I started to suspect it had something to do with an aversion to dairy.  Then again, he would also be miserable it I ate anything that was a gassy food (i.e. almost all fruits and veggies).  So, basically I’ve cut out all dairy from my diet and avoid almost every fruit, veggie, oily fish, nut and pasta.  But other than that, I can eat anything I want!  Yeah, that pretty much leaves me with meats and breads (as long as they don’t have milk in them).  And you wouldn’t believe how many things have dairy in them!  Pretty much everything, dammit.  So, it’s been frustrating to completely change my diet, but worth it for him not to wake up screaming in pain every night.  Oh, and did I mention that I also haven’t had a drink in over a year?  I am having the most fun!  Parenthood is such a joy.

And we probably don’t need to talk about the fact that I turned 40 three weeks ago as well, now do we?

Thanks, hubs!

So, now you know where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing these past few months.  And honestly, I can’t promise that this means a return to blogging regularly (or even sporadically) from now on, but I’ll at least try to check in occasionally.  If my little tyrant allows it.  Here’s hoping.

Making Room for #3

I was worried.  So was the hubs.  We had the best possible plans and intentions, but had no idea how it would be perceived.  Still, this was our best option, so we had to go with it, consequences be damned.

We have a four bedroom home.  Right now, all four of those bedrooms are occupied by myself/hubs, my oldest son, my youngest son and the au pair.  So, the question was . . . where does the new baby go?  We could have easily put him in a bassinet in our room, but that would only be a temporary solution and I have always been of the mind set to start them out early in the crib so they get used to it quickly.

Once upon a time, my youngest son’s room was a nursery.  In fact, it’s pretty much the only room in the house that I actually spent time designing and decorating, as he arrived soon after we moved into the house.  It has green/brown/tan painted stripes under a white chair rail with tan paint above and an adorable jungle theme.  The only thing that has changed over the past six years of my son’s life is the bed.  So, we decided . . . his room would once again become the nursery, and we would move him in with his brother.  In order to make this a reality, we needed to get bunk beds for the boys.

They have wanted bunk beds for a while now, ever since we flirted with the idea of getting them a couple of years ago but never pulled the trigger.  So, we were hoping that the excitement of finally getting those much coveted beds would trump the disappointment of them both losing their bedroom autonomy.  We were already creating a middle child by having this baby, but now we were taking away my youngest’s sanctuary and making him bunk with his older brother.  Like I said, we were worried as to how they would react.

Despite our trepidation, I found a perfect bed online and ordered it for delivery in early October.  Being the cowards that we are, we wanted to wait as long as possible before we had to tell the boys that they were going to be sharing a room, and have the beds delivered then.  But finally, we could wait no more, and we had to pull the trigger.

When we broke the news, we were surprised at how excited they were.  They couldn’t have been happier.  And while we were cautiously optimistic about their reaction, we still wanted to see how they would react once the reality of the situation presented itself.  After sharing the news, we took action . . . removing my oldest’s existing bed and moving around some of the furniture in preparation for the upcoming delivery of the new beds.  Then we waited . . .

Oldest son’s original room . . .

Room without bed.

The bunk beds arrived two days later and were set up and ready to go by the time my kids got home from school.  When I returned from work, I found my boys upstairs, hanging out on their new beds.  And loving them!  They were so excited, it was like Christmas day.  My oldest got the top bunk, which he thought was super cool.  My youngest got the bottom, Full sized bed with a brand new mattress, and he said it was super comfy and soft.  In fact, they loved their new bunks so much, that they without being told, took Clorox wipes to the dusty parts of it (the stairs, inside the cabinets, the top of the ceiling fan that was head height to the top bunk) and cleaned their brand new beds.  Phew!  Sigh of relief.

New bed.

My little animals enjoying their new bunks.

Since then, we have managed to somehow get all of my youngest’s clothing into the room, and with the addition of a new bookcase, have been able to organize their books and other items.  So far, they seem to be enjoying the new set up, and I even found them sleeping together on the bottom bed a couple of nights . . . giggling and talking as if they actually like each other!  So, I’m tentatively calling Project Combined Room Bunk Beds a success!

Now, I just need to get the baby’s room organized.  Anyone want to volunteer to help me locate all of the boxes full of baby clothes in my basement storage room?  I’m sure after six years, they will be super easy to find.  Oh, and then there’s the massive amounts of washing to be done once those clothes are found.  Seriously, people . . . I may actually need a village, so get your asses over here!

 

It’s A . . .

When I got pregnant with my first child, the hubs and I were convinced it was a girl.  We had a perfect girl name all picked out . . . until the sonogram.  Then we struggled and fought for 5 months to come up with a boy name we could both agree on.

The second pregnancy was pretty much the same . . . both thinking it was probably a girl, and struggling to come up with a name we agreed on for our second son.

As I previously stated, we never thought we’d have to go through all that again, but now that I’m pregnant, I’ll admit it . . . I really really really want this one to be a girl!  Despite the odds not being in my favor (75% chance of having a boy after having 2 prior), I would not be swayed from my fervent hope of a baby girl.

When we first informed our kids that I was pregnant, it was unanimous.  The boys were hoping for a baby brother.  They were adamant that it was a boy, and even my hubs joined in by saying, “well, I make boys.”  I told him to quit jinxing my uterus.

Soon after, he left for a business trip to Brazil for a week, and when he returned, he brought back a few very Brazilian presents.  One such present was this:

I teased him that if he made boys, these might not be our baby’s color.  Either that, or he bought the wrong size for me.  But, it warmed my heart that he seemed to want a girl as well.  At least for that brief moment when he was buying the shoes.

Immediately after we broke the big news of my pregnancy to everyone, I had a scheduled sonogram and blood testing for all types of issues.  Since I’m “high risk” or “advanced maternal age” (i.e. old as fuck), I got the full screening to see if anything might be wrong with the baby genetically.  What I didn’t realize at the time, as they never mentioned it, is that they could tell the sex of the baby once they received the results, which would be in about 2 weeks.  I found out that little detail about a week later, when I spoke to the lab tech who called with the preliminary results, and she told me that she would call back with the final results later that week.  Oh, and also, that she could tell me the sex of the baby at that point if I wanted.  Um, yes.  I wanted.  And then I waited.

When she called back and told me the news, I was at work.  I immediately texted my hubs to let him know:

Me:  Well, you were right.
Hubs:  The Havaianas were right?
Me:  Nope, you make boys.
Hubs:  I’m sorry, sweetie.  I really wanted you to have your girl.  Are you ok?
Me:  Yeah, I’m fine.  But damn you and your sperm!

And I really was fine.  It’s not like it wasn’t expected.  When she said “boy” it sounded completely right.  I’m a little disappointed, I’ll admit it.  But I will love this boy, just as I love the hell out of my other two.

So then, it was time to tell my kids that they had gotten their wish.  I wanted to do something fun and creative that they would remember, since I figured they’d be pretty excited about the whole thing.  So, I had an idea, and I ran with it.  First, I decorated a big box:

Then, I filled it with supplies I had grabbed on the way home, covered it with a blanket, and took the boys outside to reveal the big news.  I had them pull the blanket off on the count of three, and reveal the answer to the box’s question.  To say they were excited is putting it mildly.  My oldest ran around the yard pumping his fist and screaming, “yes!” for five minutes.  It was adorable.  I can only imagine the reaction if it had been a girl!

So, now we will have to go through the fun of trying to name this one as well.  Based on the hubs and my history with attempting to name boys, maybe we’ll just wait until he comes out and let him name himself.  Might be quicker than waiting for his parents to come to an agreement on boy names.  (In case you were wondering, yes, I did already have a girl name totally picked out).

Also, I guess it’s time for a new baby picture as well.  Can’t have my little man wearing women’s shoes!  Might give him a complex right from the womb.

Convos with the Kiddos: Part Nine

Holy cow, it’s been over a YEAR since I’ve posted a Convos with the Kiddos post!  Can you believe that?  I couldn’t, but c’est vrai! So, you would think I have an entire year’s worth of gems, right?  Well, I have some, but I may have slacked off a bit on the collecting of data.  I know, I know, bad blogger.  No cookie. 

But, without further ado, I present to you my now 5 and 8 year olds and their bon mots of brilliance:

5:  Anakin was a baby at one time.

Me:  Yes, I’m sure he was.

5:  Everyone’s a baby before they become a human.

—————————————————————————————————————————-

5:  I wish I was a grasshopper.

Me:  Why?

5:  Then I could jump over buildings and jump over the house.

Me:  What kind of crazy grasshoppers do that?

5:  All of them!

—————————————————————————————————————————-

5:  Do they have fireworks at a wedding?

Me:  Fireworks?

5:  Yeah, you know, fireworks that go off after they fall in love?

—————————————————————————————————————————

Talking about smoke stacks:

5:  Those are the machines that make clouds!

—————————————————————————————————————————

Preparing to go to a wedding and my kids see me in a very rarely worn dress:

5:  Wow mom, you look like a woman!

Me:  Um, ok.

5:  Or like a grandma!

Me:  No, let’s go with that first one.

—————————————————————————————————————————–

Me:  How’s dinner?

8:  Good.

5:  Not good.

Me:  Why not good?

5:  My tongue doesn’t fit in the spices.

—————————————————————————————————————————-

Me:  Hey, there’s one more carrot on your plate saying, “look at meeeeee.  Eat me!”

5:  ((giggling))

Me:  Don’t laugh at me!  That’s the carrot talking.

5:  Yeah, but he has a severe case of the hookabellies!

————————————————————————————————————————–

Me:  Wow, you’ve really worked up an appetite playing baseball!

8:  Yeah, I’ve worked up an appetite and a drinkitite!

————————————————————————————————————————–

Fall/Halloween Convos

On a hayride:

5:  A big fat rabbit would like this habitat!

————————————————————————————————————————–

5:  Skeletons are almost like people except they don’t have blood and skin and all that.

————————————————————————————————————————–

On Halloween morning:

5:  I wish I could fast forward my day!

Me:  To what part?

5:  To the part where I get treats!

————————————————————————————————————————–

8:  If any monsters come in here, I’ll just toxicate them!

Me:  What’s toxicate mean?

8:  I don’t know, like making them toxic?

(I thought he said intoxicate at first.  That would have been quite the defensive move!)

—————————————————————————————————————————

Bonus:  Convo with the hubs . . .

Trick or treating with my son’s baseball team and their parents, riding around on the back of a truck, wearing a Halloween mask:

Hubs:  I’m in a truck full of ladies with a rubber on my head.  I believe in safe trick or treating.

Holiday Winner!!

When I posted this last week, I told everyone it would be a quick turn around.  So here we are, turning it around.

Turn the beat around . . . love to hear percussion . . .

Try to get that out of your head today!  Yeah, sorry about that.

Ok, so turning it around (the giveaway, not the beat!), let’s get this party started!

And without further ado . . . the winner of the last giveaway of 2013 on Misty’s Laws is:

LILY!!!

Well, Lily, my friend . . . it seems your week just keeps getting better!!  Starting with a minor fender bender, then an engagement, and finally, the most exciting thing to happen to you in your entire life . . . winning these two mugs!!!  Woo-hoo!

So, send me your info at mistyslaws at gmail dot com and I’ll get these in the mail to you as quickly as possible.

And, since this will possibly be my last post of the year, I just want to wish every single one of you a very festive and happy holiday, filled with fun, family and fruity cocktails!!  Feliz Navidad, my peeps.  Happy Everything!!

You Win Some, You Lose Some

In case you are wondering, the loser in this situation, at least based on recent occurences and evidentiary support, is me.  We’ll get to the winner in a moment.  But, as to that whole losing thing, it seems that my good buddy and pal, LIFE, has decided to be a cold, hard, manipulative bitch lately.  Maybe it’s that time of the month, huh Lifey ole friend?  And lest you think I might be over-exaggerating my present loser status (But Misty!  You just had a super rad weekend with Val!  Full of fun and shenanigans.  Surely, it can’t be all that bad, right?), let me present to you Exhibits A through D.

Exhibit A:

Last Friday I was hit with a massive chest cold which knocked me on my ass and out of work.  But, since my job sucks (still), I couldn’t just lay in bed in misery on that cold and rainy day.  Oh no, I need a note from a doctor to take a sick day.  Yes, that is correct.  My employer treats us like toddlers that cannot determine when we are able to make it into work and when one of our sick days needs to be taken.  So, despite the fact that my throat hurt like hell and anytime I spoke to someone, I sounded like an 80-year-old asthmatic with a pack-a-day habit (mmmm, sexy), I hauled my ass into the shower and out to the clinic to wait 2 hours just for a note.  That’s it.  No meds.  Nothing.  Just needed a note, thank you very much. 

Exhibit B:

So, remember that whole broken washer saga thing?  And remember how I commented to everyone that it was fixed and I had a functional washer once again?  Yeah, so scratch that.  The working washer only worked for a couple of weeks before it broke again.  And this time, we were told that we needed TWELVE parts to fix it.  So, we had to order the parts, wait for them to be delivered and then schedule another appointment for all of those many parts to be installed.  In the meantime, I’ve had to trek downstairs to my Father in Law’s place to use his washer, which is a huge annoyance.  And although I am very happy that at least I don’t have to go to a laundromat, I want my damn washer to work again!  Especially, when you go downstairs and put in your delicates, leaving another load of delicates in a basket pending washing, and you get busy with trying to decorate the tree and forget to go down again for 2 hours, and your Father in Law, who is just trying to be helpful, puts your wash in the dryer and washes your undies on hot with Tide.  Oy.  I love him for trying, but oy.  I really need my washer back.

Exhibit C:

That.  Yep, that would be a mouse, peeking out from the dishwasher in my kitchen.  Now I know where all those little black pellets I found in my pantry have been coming from.

Exhibit D:

The Fucking Tree.  That Goddamn Fucking Christmas Tree!!  This might be a familiar tale, if you have been reading this blog for a while, because it seems that I go through this same Groundhog Day extravaganza every single year.  You see, I’m married to an elf.  He is the most holly jolly of all Christmas elves, while I tend to skew more towards a Grinch-like countenance.  However, over the years, he has definitely pulled me over to the dark candy cane side of holiday spirit.  Which is all well and good, until it comes to the tree.  I am the one who has to decorate the thing.  Meaning lights, bows, ornaments.  The kids help with the ornaments, but up until that point, it’s all me.  Oh, did I mention I’m allergic to pine?  Yeah, that’s another little added bonus to the decorating hell I seem to find myself in every year. 

This is what my arms look like after a few hours wrestling lights onto the tree.

And look, I’m not trying to be a martyr about this whole thing.  I’m not forced to do the tree, I do it willingly, even knowing what will happen to my arms.  It hurts and itches for a few hours, then is all gone by the next day, so I can deal.  Plus, the hubs just doesn’t have time to do everything, and he does all the outside lights.  So, it’s totally fair.  What isn’t fair is when you spend hours wrapping the lights all around this big majestic beast of a tree in your living room, getting it to look just perfect, and making sure every single strand is working and lighting up before plugging each one into the next . . . only to have the entire thing go dark the next day.  Then, you realize it is the bottom strand that is dead, and are happy your husband picked up an extra strand at Home Depot the previous weekend, and wrestle with the tree to remove that bottom strand and then replace it with the brand new, just out of the box one . . . only to have the whole damn tree go out again the next weekend after you’ve already put the bows on it (in case you’re wondering, I left it dark for a while before replacing that first bottom strand)!  Not believing it could possibly be the brand new strand you put on just a couple of days prior, you test out all sorts of things, before you come to terms with the fact that the new strand is indeed the culprit.  So, you pull that whole thing off, discover one extra strand in one of the Xmas boxes and put that on . . . and a half hour later, everything but that strand goes out.  You are now super pissed, out of lights, and possibly having a mini-breakdown, as you throw a tantrum, complete with whining, stomping, and threats to get a fake tree next year. 

So, in case you lost count, that would be FOUR times the lights went out on the tree, THREE restringing of the lights, ONE temper tantrum and ONE threat to get a fake tree.  All with the kids asking a million times if it’s time now to put the ornaments on.  And that’s just THIS year.  The same damn thing happened last year.  I think I may be cursed.

So, still doubtful that I’m a big, fat loser in all of this?  Yeah, I didn’t think so.  The Defense rests!!

Now, on to the winner in this scenario . . . the winner of my most recent giveaway.  Yay!!

In case you forgot . . .

And, as always, I left the pickings to my spawn.  More specifically, my oldest and first born son, 8.

And the winner is . . . . . .

EMMA5150!!!!

Congrats Emma5150.  Send me all of your info (mistyslaws at gmail dot com) and I will get this prize package out to you presently.  I might just be able to swing it so as to arrive before Xmas!!

And, for all of you big losers out there (don’t worry, you’re in good company . . . with ME), stay tuned for yet another giveaway coming next week!  How did you get so lucky as to get TWO chances to win Misty Laws awesomeness in one month?  Well, partly because of a shipping snafu that sent me extra stuff that I’m going to pass along to you, but mostly just because I’m awesome.  I will even try to post, pick and send in time to arrive before Xmas as well.  No promises, but I’ll try.

Prepping for the Big K

My youngest son is about to start Kindergarten.  He is very excited to start “big boy school.”  However, the thing that 5 is most excited about, is the opportunity to ride the bus.  He is beyond psyched for the day that big yellow behemoth swallows him up and spews him out upon the school grounds.

My oldest son, 8, has been attending this same school for a few years now, considering himself somewhat of an expert in all things related to bus riding.  He has made many attempts at helpfulness, trying to explain what 5 may have to expect.  When he told 5 the rules for the bus, the response was, “well, if anyone gives me any trouble, they’ll just get paybacks.”  He then explained to the hubs and I that it meant he would just punch them.  Obviously, we then spent a large amount of time reviewing the rules, adding “do not punch anyone” as rule number 1!! 

Despite this newfound violent streak, 5 has been completely zen and composed about the entire Kindergarten process.  I thought he would be more apprehensive, but so far he is calm and collected.  Then again, he did go to pre-school at the same building last year, and will already know some of the kids from his pre-school class.  G.I. Joe had that shit right . . . knowing is half the battle!

In a further attempt to give my youngest as much advance information as possible, I signed him up for a class at our library called, “Kindergarten, Here We Come,” which included a chance to ride a real live school bus!  I figured he would love it, since he was so excited to ride the bus to school.  So, the night in question, I told him I had a surprise for him.  That we were going to go do something special.

Once we arrived at the library, and he discovered the special surprise, he wasn’t very excited.  He figured “surprise” meant going for ice cream or to Chuck E Cheese.  And while every parent knows that ice cream is a brilliant idea right before bedtime, you would never find me in a Chuck E Cheese, unless my family was being held for ransom and the only place to get money was in their swirling air pit of death.  And even then . . . I mean, I love them and all, but a person has her limits.

His lack of enthusiasm continued when the class started and he realized that he was going to be sitting through an actual Kindergarten class.  The look of disdain and disappointment he threw back at me was epic.  And hysterical.  Apparently, he was less than enthused about mom’s “surprise.” 

Eventually, the very long and boring classroom activities ended (during which my son vacillated between chewing on laminated paper crayons, and looking at me like, “really, Mom . . . really?”), and the kids finally got to go outside to get on the school bus.  Wheeeee!!

Although, they didn’t actually get to go anywhere.  Instead, they just all piled on, sat in the seats, and the bus driver explained all the rules to them.  I was happy 5 didn’t tell her his theories on how he would handle any issues that might arise. 

All told, though, the bus “ride” was a bit anti-climactic.  But now, he’s been on a school bus, knows all the rules, and experienced a close facsimile of an actual school day.  Pretty sure that is as prepared as he’s gonna get. 

Between that and the paybacks, I’m sure G.I. Joe would be very proud.

—————————————————————————————————————————