Another Year - School 2011

Another school year has started. And I think mothers across America pause.

I know I did.

I paused because my heart really does overflow. And I think oh life! Why must you be filled with time?!?! It seems just yesterday we were taking ET to kindergarten. And when she put on her backpack she fell over from the weight.

Now she starts 8th grade and is saving for an iPad2 and wearing lip gloss. (And in a cruel twist on fate she is cool colors and I am warm - so we cannot share lip gloss. Oh curse the gods of gloss for their evil plots.)And while I am proud beyond belief - and am relieved our rocky adjustment is over - I have to push back the panic.

My days are numbered.

In four more years she will pack her bags for college. (Or I will pack them because she folds her shirts terribly which allow for deep wrinkles and unacceptable shoe allotments)

College. Did I really just type college?!?!?

I will cry. And be one of those moms that decorates her dorm room in shabby chic and bakes cupcakes for the first day and scrapbooks. Okay - maybe just blogs. I am certain she will be the envy of all her friends. (Buwhahahahaha)

And I will hide post it notes in her clothes that remind her I love her. Remind her of who she is. Remind her that who that is - is perfect. No change needed.

And that no matter what, I am proud. And lover her. And am honored she found me as a mother.

And then I will unscrew a bottle of Cupcake and bedazzle her room. And possible buy a cat. Or a motorcycle. Or a pink shimmer shine convertible that spews glitter from the exhaust. Cause that's what us super cool mom's of college students do. If I can afford it after tuition and fees. Okay, maybe a Jetta. Or a pineapple mojito. Burp.

And this one.
Dear sweet baby Jesus, deliver us in our time of need. This one. I wuvs him. He is me. Incarnate.
And he wears me out.

But makes me smile. And pause. And be better.

The curls. The dimples. The vocabulary. The heart. Oh the heart.

He loves others.
Except the girl who messed his hair up on the bus. So he scratched her.

And let's face it.

He comes from a long line of follicle endowment.

We big hair people have no tolerance for messing with such a sacred vessel -- the hair.

Amen.

On MT's first day of school he wrote in his journal about all the things he loves. He talked about dragons and legos....but most of all he loves Jesus and God...above all else. And you all should too.
Sweet precious angel. With a hair complex.

And my baby -- BT. He started Kindergarten.
And you all know he makes the cut off by 3 days, but I still decided to hold him back and have him do kindergarten again. And when we explained this to him he had only one thing to say --

What you talkin about Willis?But then we explained the important mature reasons behind this decision.

There is no homework... And you get a longer recess.Now glitter and unicorns flow forth in Kindergarten.

So I walk on back to the house...humming Sunrise, Sunset. With a sense of pride and a longing for capturing this moment. The moment in which my babies are all under one roof. And innocence still reigns. And they love their momma. And leave dirty hand prints on the wall. And giggle in their beds at night. And still believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy (mostly). And want to please. And love without judgment. And accept without questions. And give without consideration for cost.

They are the epitome of perfection.

Except all the laundry they produce.

Punks.
But I am so happy they are growing. But so aware of the window.

Now it's just me a Lucy back at the ranch.
She can't handle the showtunes and dance moves I do while getting ready.No wonder the twerps were so excited to get back to school.

ET is a STAR!

ET -- oh my dear sweet angel Eldest Twerp. I remember the first time I ever saw her in her little purple star outfit bouncing down the path at the zoo. I knew. I just knew she was meant for greatness.

But, as with life, challenges and struggles have happened. And our move from the Wild West to the Deep South was nothing less than catastrophic for her.

There have been many nights of tears, morning of screams, and weekends of drama. But now...now...I think she is finding her niche. DRAMA! It's so unlike her mother who is shy and serious and never has a flair for the dramatic. But to each their own. And finally, finally -- the smile is back. The shine is there. And she is home. Amen.

Lucy: I Think She Rescued Me

Once upon a time when my precious angel children were 3 and 4 we did a silly silly thing.

A thing that was nonchalant and carefree. A thing that we KNEW would never come to pass. Like high school graduation and stuff like that. It just would never happen to MY kids cause they were never gonna grow up. Amen.

So on a carefree simple day something silly happened -- we kinda maybe possibly mighta promised the spawn a puppy. Maybe.

We mighta said that when BT is 5 and MT is 7 -- we will get a dog. It seemed sensible and at the time -- far, far away. Like a galaxy I once knew. Just call me Princess Leia. IJ does it all the time.

It seemed that 5 and 7 would be a day in the distant future in which children were responsible and Dr Pepper lipgloss was available to the masses. It seemed this distant date would be one of no worries.

Where all the raindrops were lemon drops and gum drops.

And all the snowflakes were wine glasses and Cupcake.

Oh yes -- oh what a day that would be. A day of peace and love for all.

But suddenly - that day was upon us. MT will turn 7 in February and BT is already 5. And it is like super creepy weird how when you say something ONE time and make a little statement about "Oh sure we will get you a dog when you turn 7" it becomes seared in their tiny little minds and they bring it back up to you in some "remember -- you promised" kinda way. Like I am suppose to do everything I promise. Sheesh.

Twerps.

Anyhoo. The Year of the Dog was upon us. Amen.

And I tried to convince my spawn that it was the Year of the Beta Fish

Or the Year of the Pet Rock

But they were not buying it.

It's like they are Chinese or something.

And I am Tiger Mom.

Sorry - I digress.

Anyhoo -- We were at a friends house one night and someone started talking about this little beagle they found abandoned and brought her home -- they were going to take her to the pound. And I was all like --

OHHHH By George I got it!

It is like when the light from heaven shines down upon you and you are impregnated with the best idea since sliced bread.....This was such a day.

I said....

Let us watch her for the weekend and my three children would see the responsibility and effort and early morning walks this creature would require. And Lord knows at the end of the weekend they would want to send her back. And we would then get a Pet Rock. IT WAS BRILLIANT!

Mu wa ha ha ha ha ha ha

{{Insert my devious plan and evil laughter while rubbing my hands together}}So they brought the silly little canine over -- and I propped my feet up with a glass of vino and some bon bons and shouted short orders to the dog whisperers...

Lucy needs to go outside

Lucy needs fed

Lucy needs a bath.

Lucy is in the sky with diamonds

I kid. I kid. I really didn't say that.

That would be silly.

I sang it.

While dancing.

But there is no need for details.Anyhoo -- the strangest thing happened -- my plan began to backfire.....they were doing it! And More. Without COMPLAINING! Who are these strange children?

And Lucy was no normal dog. She did not chew. She did not bark. She did not potty in the house. And -- she loved PINK!

And glitter... Obviously she was trying to steal my heart. I was NOT letting it happen.

Until -- UNTIL -- I saw this.....She loved my boys. Fiercely -- and they loved her. And how could I not rescue her from a life of cages and loneliness -- how could I not love her?

Cause at the end of the day -- she knew what life was all about -- OTHERS. And she rescued my heart. And now I love her.
Puppy Twerp!

Day Five: Southern Style

Day Five of the Great Southern Snow Storm. And us poor sweet dear Southern Angels had no clue what to do. We were damsels in distress. Swooning and fainting all over the place. Why I do declare - all the grits and sweet tea were sold out. I'm feeling weak just relivin it. It was indeed a state of national emergency. A state of panic. I called my ma. I called my pa. I even called the law....way down in Arkansas. I was desperate. Please understand we were doing all we could do to stay sane and not lose out ever loving minds. One Day One of the Great Southern Snow Storm there were giggles and sledding. We were handling it all in grace and style. Taking photos to scrapbook and send to our Aunt Lucille's on our monogrammed stationary. On Day Two there was hot chocolate and movies. Gone with the Wind. Steel Magnolias. Driving Miss Daisy. and Oklahoma! We start them young and all. On Day Three there were naps and early bedtime. It's good for the youngnis. Keeps their immune system up. They need their dear sweet angel rest. Amen. However on Day Four - oh dear Day Four... there was Benadryl and Xanax. And I don't think any good Yankee could possibly judge us. Amen. But on Day Five... Oh on Day Five. On Day Five the heavens opened forth and dear sweet Baby Jesus decided he would have to part some sanity to us or I was gonna have to tear down the drapes and make a dress. And Lord knew that would not end well. Soooo... Momma decided to have a little fun.

I had had about enough of the kids being pulled all around like they were little prices. I demanded to be treated like to southern princess I was.

Amen.

And some may say this is a little uncalled for.
To those I have one simple thing to say....Mush! Mush! Why are we going so slow? It must be all this extra weight from MT. Cause Lord knows my waist is the size of a brooms stick.

Even after Five Days of Pancakes and Yoga Pants. (Hypothetically speaking, those yoga pants can be quite deceiving. Burp.) Snap... Crackle.... POP. Uhm, exsqueeze me... did the cord just break?Cheap silly cord.

Onward!
Cause I swear they just don't make things like they use to.

Except yoga pants. Amen.Anyhoo -- put those spawn of mine into the sled and let's go home IJ!

Momma feels her Cupcake calling.And I think the Twerps feel a nap coming on. And if they don't...It's nothing a little Benadryl and Whiskey can't solve. I kid! I kid! (If you were judgin and all).