Meet my Freckle-Faced Red-Headed Step Child

There is one healthy quality I have always tried to instill in my children. Not because it is a stellar quality that one must have or that it is something that would make a momma proud. No, I have dedicated my self to this quest only because it is impossible for me not to. For years (how many? did you just ask how many? seriously? uhm, 21. 21 years. Are you snickering? Please see me after class.) For 21 years I have battled this demon. It has consumed me at times. And my philosophy is IF YOU CAN'T BEAT EM JOIN EM. So I shall pass this on to my spawn. I am a giver like that and all.

Competition. Oh yes, we are a tad bit competitive in my house. I got tot he car faster. I have more milk that you. I have a thicker moustache (I always win this one I KID I KID). Anyhoo, competition is the freckle-faced red-headed stepchild of our family. Not that I have anything against freckles or red-heads or step children. I love and embrace all.

But I did not realize with what force this little competitive step-child has taken my family. Until this weekend...

We went to the driving range and straight off the bat (name that quote) Middle Twerp said Wanna see who can hit it the fastest?
With that it was on like Donkey Kong. Now I am not one to be into the details. Cause that is where the devil lives. And well, I love and embrace all -- but Lucifer. He is my exception. So I am gonna help you all out here -- Insert Exhibit A: Please notice that this is taken AFTER the swing. Please notice where the ball is.

Okay, carry on.

So MT turns around and says How you like them apples. Beat that!
Uhm, exsqueeze me -- your ball is STILL ON THE TEE. This seemed to not be a problem.

Next up was BT -- I could just eat him up -- give me a spoon!
Again -- details schmetails but please notice the ball. It was determined by MT that BT's ball was much faster. So somehow -- BT took the lead. I obviously was clueless.
Moving along -- Eldest Twerp was the next item up for bid.

Uhm, I ain't one to judge but she DID hit the ball -- and it rolled off the concrete and onto the fairway. She hit it the farthest of them all.

At this moment I realized (being the competitive mother that I am) one of two things: either I know NOTHING about golf (which is true) or I might have a chance of being the next Tiger Woods. I am sticking with the latter. Amen.

Baby Twerp

IJ has been out of town lately so the Twerps have been sleeping with me. I actually do not mind one little bit. I love their quick breath as the background nose and their soft cheeks snuggled against mine and the angelic faces so peaceful. The peeing to bed is a little inconvenient, but they always forgive me. I KID. I KID.

Anyhoo, last week I put Baby Twerp to sleep in my bed and went downstairs to do some work. When I came back up, I could not find him anywhere. My bed? No. His bed? No. Bathroom? Closet? Playroom? Outside? No. No. No. and No. I was starting to become panicked.

I looked under my bed and saw a couple tubs I use to store things in -- no BT. I woke the whole house up.

Eldest Twerp came down sleepy eyed and said ... why are all your purses all over the bedroom floor?

My purses? They are not, I keep them under my bed. But when I went to look, she was right....they were all over the floor. Not under the bed in a storage tub where I keep them.

I reached under the bed to pull out the storage tub....and this is what I found....
Lordy Be...

How can anyone possibly be mad at this? Amen.

Random. Tired. Peek-a-boo Toes. Birthday Party.

1. I am in Boston
2. Which reminds me of Paul Revere
3. Which reminds me of the Beastie Boys
4. Which reminds me of pegged pants and teased hair and Aqua Net
5. Which reminds me of long ago
6. Which brings on guilt
7. Because it has been so long since I have written
8. WHY?
9. Work
10. Big stuff is happening
11. Maybe
12. It could be
13. If I don't mess it all up
14. Which could happen
15. Cause I had a big meeting last week with the #1 and #2 guys in our company
16. And they brought in LUNCH
17. And I had to eat in front of them
18. And there were SAUCES
19. And I had to burp
20. But it all went off fine
21. And now I go back to NYC Tuesday
22. For follow up
23. And it could either be the icing on the cake
24. Or the gasoline on the fire
25. Either way -- we will know soon
26. And then I can blog again
27. Maybe
28. ET pulled her last two baby teeth yesterday
29. And when I say "ET pulled her last two baby teeth yesterday."
30. What I really mean is IJ took some needle nosed pliers and poured Purell on them and pulled out her last two baby teeth cause they were gonna rot in her mouth before she would ever pull them
31. But I did not take pics cause I was afraid I might get my children taken away
32. Anyhoo -- get ready for this BIG announcement
33. I got new shoes
34. Heels
35. And they are
36. PURPLE
37. metallic purple
38. With a peek a boo toe
39. And I am in love
40. And I am gonna marry them
41. And have purple metallic heels with peekaboo toe babies
42. You know you can relate.
43. Right?
44. Hello?
45. Anyhoo
46. I love you all
47. I missed you
48. And we have to start planning ET's 12th birthday
49. Thoughts
50. Ideas?
51. I thought Pooh Bear or Mickey Mouse
52. Or maybe Smurfs or Rainbow Brite
53. I just can't decide

NYC: Spread the Love

I am in New York City. The Big Apple. And I am a fish out of water. They say in NYC you can people watch as entertainment. I realized last night that I am not only one of the spectators, but a specimen as well.

Mainly it is that fact that I say "sweetie" and have drawl out my words with my twang from the hills of Kentucky. It makes me sound like I walked straight out of "Steel Magnolias"

But none of this bothers me. Because while I might get stares and questions, the people here are loving and accepting. No one judges, they just accept. And love you not in spite of your differences, but because of them.

They don't hate, they appreciate.

So my friend, we will call her Rand McNally, took me to this fab restaurant with a real Manhattan culture last night. She knows the City like the back of her hand and wears it like a glove. She is NYC -- young, hip, cool, accepting. I just love me some Rand McNally.

Anyhoo, we were sitting in this warehouse type restaurant where all the door were up so while we were INSIDE eating, it was completely open to the outside. For my country friends, it was like we were in a barn with all the barn doors open. For my small town friends, it was like we were at the gas station with all the garage doors open. Okay, now you get it.

Anyhoo, we were sitting there eating rare meat and I KID YOU NOT, a man in a red leotard riding a unicycle (and wearing a thong, but this is a G site so I will not go into detail here) rides right in a sits at the bar.

Oh you know I could not contain myself. I just HAD to meet him.

He is the pinky rider and he rides the streets of NYC spreading joy and love.

Oh yes, we became close and tight "pinky friends" right away.
I think I might love NYC.

Amen.

Fabulous Froggy Friday

Today is Fabulous Froggy Friday -- and Baby Twerp was selected to dress up. I let him chose his own outfit....Oh heaven help us. I am most certain my mothering skills are the topic of conversation in the teachers' lounge.

Gag Me With a Scorpion

As my job continues to keep me traveling I always try to look for little things to bring home to the kids -- not always, but sometimes. And when I was in the Houston airport last week, I spotted something I just instantly KNEW they would love.

Scorpion suckers --I kid you not this mass of hardened syrup on a stick has a real scorpion in it. Now it dead and all, but at some point and time it was alive and venomous.

At least that was the talk on the street from my spawn.

And while I thought there might be oooohs and squeals -- I was wrong. Dead wrong.

They were bitin and chompin to get to that "real live" dead scorpion.

And overjoyed with the fact they might be able to star in an episode on Animal Planet one day --

Yep, that's me -- settin the bar high and all.

College? Maybe Grad School? Eh, who knows. Animal Planet? Priceless.

Happy Birthday Cha Cha Cha

Is this the little boy I carried? Is this the little boy at play? I don't remember growing older -- when did they?

Sunrise, Sunset. Swiftly flow the days. Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers. Blossoming even as they gaze.

{sniff sniff}

He's a Lover Not a Fighter

Everyday Middle Twerp comes home with a behavior folder to tell the tale of how he minded his manners that day. The system goes like this:

Green: Great Day

Yellow: Warnings Given

Orange: Multiple Challenges

Red: We have your spawn tied to a stake with duct tape, please come get him and transfer to another district before I go into early retirement.

Friday I opened the folder to find an ORANGE mark under Middle Twerp's name.

After my gasps and denial, I looked below to read the reason...

Although we love that MT has a big heart, we have to speak to him several times a day that he may NOT kiss his classmates. Can you please help us with this?

Help you with this? Honey, I think that is what is wrong with this world today. There needs to be more love and less hate. More kisses and less hits. That is how we roll.

IJ disagreed he said we need to give MT the tools he needed to be successful in school.

I looked at IJ and said, He can't help it. He's a lover not a fighter.

So we discussed it with MT and figured that problem was solved. Until this morning.

I dropped him off at Kindergarten and he ran up to his teacher giving her a big hug and GINORMOUS KISS right on the lips.

Then he grabbed her face in his two little hands and looked her straight int he eye and said...

"Teacher I can't help it. I'm a lover not a fighter."

Priceless. Priceless indeed.

They Sent the FIRE DEPARTMENT?!?!?!?!

A couple days ago the boys spilled a few gallons of gas in the garage and since then the fumes have been UNBEARABLE. I am talking throat burnin -- like I am fo shiz down a few thousand brain cells. And let's face it -- I don't have that many to spare. Ya know what I am sayin? Well, when I woke up Friday morning, I had taken all I could take. I was tired and smelly and frankly, high.

Soooo -- I called the NON EMERGENCY FIRE DEPARTMENT number and said, "Please do not call Child Protective Services, but my spawn dumped gasoline out in my garage and after 2 days the fumes are so intense I cannot sleep -- do you know how I can clean it up? Or do you have any suggestions of what I could buy to help?"

Then, this is what happened.... "HOLD PLEASE" {insert Motown music}

"Ma'am? I have dispatched a crew and they are in route."

"EXSQUEEZE ME?!?!?!? I do not need a truck dispatched -- I only need advice. Call it off. Send them back. Tell them it was a wrong number. Tell them I was talking about GAS -- from my husband -- after some unfortunately bean burritos. CALL THEM OFF."

Then I heard the sirens.They had dispatched not one -- but TWO fire trucks...and a man in a little truck following them.
I ran to their truck in my heels and a darling muted black suit -- Hello? I know what you are thinking -- but I have to tell you the truth -- I have mentally ill twin sister-- Helga -- who lives here and she called you. And she is in time out. And I am sooo sorry. Would you like some cookies and milk? And IJ -- Oh IJ was MORTIFIED! He looked at me and said -- YOU CALLED THE FIRE DEPARTMENT?!?!?

Uhm, well that is disputable. Let me explain. It was Helga -- my evil twin. She is uncontrollable!!!!

So IJ and I stood out in the fume infested garage and waved good bye to the best firemen in the world.

And as they pulled out...chucking all the way ... they shouted out the window -- BYE HELGA!!!