How to make Charles grumpy....

I know that lately, all of my blogs start out like this:  “Sorry I haven’t blogged for a while but….[insert feeble excuse here]”  Well, this one is no different.  I’ve found consistency to be very relaxing. 

Sorry I haven’t blogged for a while but I’ve been pretty stressed out.  Daughter number one is changing jobs and has requested my mad resume skillz, clothes and shoes.  Daughter number two is graduating high school and apparently needs all of my attention, money and shoes. Daughter number three (who is too small yet to borrow clothes or shoes) … I think is secretly plotting to kill the first two girls so she can have all my attention.  And don’t go thinking I’m all cool and stuff.  No.  They want my attention because they don’t want me to have any peace WHATSOEVER!  

Then there’s the hub.  He’s always pestering me with annoying questions like “Did you pay the gas bill” or “have you balanced the checkbook” or “why do you sit in the corner and cry all the time”.  Ugh! So demanding! 

So this morning the following events may or may not have occurred. 

The hubs and I have decided to ride together so that when daughter number two comes into town, we only have one car to deal with.  The hubs isn’t fond of being my chauffer.   Something about me being a diva or hating being called Charles… whatever.  Anyway, he finished getting dressed and was waiting very patiently for me to finish.

Hubs: You about ready?

Me: Yea.  Just a few minutes.

Ten minutes later

Hubs:  How much longer?

Me: Um… almost done

Five minutes later

Hubs: Really?  How much longer?

Me: Dude… it takes time to make all this awesome happen (gesturing from my head to my toes – which still did not have shoes on them).

Hubs: You know I hate to be late.

Me: I’m almost done.  Chill!!

Much huffing and puffing on the Hubs part, and we are out the door.  I only ran back in twice for things I forgot.  Apparently being chauffeured around brings on forgetfulness… who knew?

So we get in the car and as we back out of the driveway, I look at the clock on the dashboard.

Me: Oh, we should hurry… I’m running late.

That’s when that vein in his neck started throbbing.  So out of respect for him I did not call him Charles.  Much.

More parenting advice....

On a long car ride this weekend, daughter number 3 (she's 10) is chatting about a confrontation between her and another little girl at school. From what I gather ("gather" not because I wasn't listening to her and playing with my ipod or anything) there was an incident during a kickball game wherein the little girl hit daughter number 3 not once but twice in the face (note: good moms don't laugh)... so when I quit laughing, we determine it may or may not have been on purpose. Here's where the tale picks up:

Daughter 3 - So then she hit me again in the same spot! (Sounding dramatic and over-reactive.... and I have NO idea where she gets that....Shut up!)

Daughter 2 (She's 18, and spreading hate and discontent) - So did you hit her back?

Daughter 3 - No, I just turned and walked away.

Daughter 2 - Why you gotta be the bigger person?

And that, my friends, is how to raise loving and caring children. There goes my mom of the year award.

Why I'm always tired... -or- Why I should not be left alone to care for the children

Until now, most of my blogs have been about my current crazy life.  However in looking back, it appears I’ve always been a tad crazy unique whatever.

So I thought you would like to hear a story from several years ago.  And it’s not so much that you would like it as much as it’s my blog. So ha!

My little one was about two years old at the time.  She was in a front facing car seat.  And by "in" I mean when she chose to stay "in" it.  She had become quite the escape artist. No joke, I had to pull the car over numerous times to wrangle her back into the seat. 

So one morning I had to take her to the babysitter and the dog had an appointment at the groomer.  So I put the dog in the car.  The Scottish terrier did not like anyone or anything, but he did appreciate a good car ride.  He would jump between the front and back seats and the side windows checking out the view.  Leaving nose prints on the windows.  Yea...That’s how I roll.

I get Stinker buckled into her car seat and it looks like we are good to go.  Then I realize I had forgotten something in the house.  I am quite certain I growled, but jumped out to retrieve said item, and yes... you guessed it. I somehow locked the keys in the car.  With baby and dog in the car.

Now the weather was not cold or hot, and we were in the garage.  The car was not running, so there was no imminent danger. As a matter of fact Stinker was thrilled to be in the car with the dog... she was smiling and pointing to him, laughing. Not unhappy or scared. The dog was happy... he was going for a ride. Front of the car, back of the car. Front of the car, back of the car. Left, right, left, right... he was thrilled.  Apparently I was the only unhappy person. 

So the Hub was about twenty or so minutes away, and once I had him headed to the rescue, I decided that perhaps the dog’s hypernes could help me. I’m like a domestic MacGyver that way.  So I tried to persuade him to jump to my window thinking he would step on the unlock button.  Yea.  He didn't understand why I wasn't in the car with him.  After two minutes of me calling him, clapping my hands and tapping the window he decided this was not gonna work for him and he curled up in the back seat to pout.  So now he was ticked at me. Great!  Hub was not happy and now the dog is ticked.  Oh… and I’m not happy!  GREAT morning!

Well, Houdini junior was in the back seat, still smiling and waving at me….my antics with the dog had been super entertaining for her. In another MacGyver moment of genius, I think that maybe I could get her to wiggle out of her car seat and unlock a door.  The child had escaped almost daily for a week... this should be no problem. Yea.  Sure… nothing wrong with this theory.

So I’m talking calmly to her telling her to get out of her seat. I’m using my baby voice and wiggling my shoulders as a demonstration to mimicking her escape. She finds this hilarious.  I'm pointing to the button saying "push the button, push the button, honey" and she shows me her belly button.  Ok, cute but ineffective. She's giggling and laughing but NOT getting out of the car seat. Sure.  Going 70 down the highway she can worm out and hug my neck, but no... When I need her to help me out she's behaved.

At one point a neighbor drove by to stare at me hopping around in the garage, talking to a seemingly empty car. “Move along, nothing to see here”. Its no wonder our neighbors don't talk to us.

The end of the story is that the Hub came and unlocked the door. The dog was happy on the car ride, but very disappointed to find himself at the groomer. Turns out he's a wall hugger.  And Stinker wormed her way out of the car seat before we got out of the neighborhood.  It’s no wonder I’m exhausted.

And so it begins.....

So. I hope you all had a great holiday. I took some time off and enjoyed it with my friends and family. I literally did nothing for like a week. It. was. wonderful.

However. Something interesting happens when you spend extended "together" time with your family. Yea. The professionals call it insanity. So in order to spend a week and a half with the fam (three girls, two of which are teenagers and the youngest is ten going on 14.... yea... I KNOW!!!) I have become adaptive to the situation... I invoke unique coping techniques... lest I loose my ever-lovin' mind.

The hubs takes the "watch sports 24/7 technique", which results in said teenagers rolling their eyes and leaving. Me, well I tried napping, but teenagers don't appreciate the sheer beauty of the afternoon nap. I tried hiding... but turns out teenagers are resourceful and smart. SO this past holiday, I found a great, new coping technique. I call it.... obnoxious mom. Yea... I'm like a pro already!

The beauty of obnoxious mom is the said teenager will eventually roll their eyes and walk away. Singing loudly in the car, trying to be "hip and happening" with their friends, writing sweet memories of their childhood on their Facebook page, and threatening to make them join me at Walmart are a few examples.

However effective, one has to use this new power with caution, as a the teens can turn the tables. I call it... obnoxious teen. Here's an example... the following conversation took place with my oldest daughter.

Bugz: Can I borrow a headband? (Understand that this is how teens show love... I buy hair stuff... they use it, then lose it before I can. You know.... love.)

Me: It will cost you five bucks. And you have to let me name your first born. I like Penelope Swifferton.

Bugz: Ha. Ok. (wow... way TOO easy, I should have tried hiding again).

Me: How about Smoochy McGiggletart?

Bugz: Tart. Fart. One mistake and the kid is picked on for life. (yea... that's the biggest concern here).

Me: Yea. I see your point. Ok. How bout Sparkly Kenzington?

Bugz: Maybe. How about Frederick McBeddington?

Me: Ok??? (what's wrong with Sparkly?) Hmm.....kinda rhymie isn't it?

Bugz: Uh. No. It sounds like an upper east side New York journalist.

Me: Ok. I can get behind that. But what if he’s a doctor. Dr. McBeddington sounds like a bad sitcom on ABC Family. Or a muppet. Or worse... a 70's adult movie star... yuck. You cannot name your kid after a muppet.

Bugz: Ok. We’ll find another snooty name.

Me: Yea. That one's pretty much ruined now. Darn my ingenuity!

So I suppose we can only hope that her future husband is more influential that I am.... but....my secret plan... I'll totally give that kid a rockin' nickname. Plus one can only hope that her child will also invoke obnoxious teen to counteract her shenanigans. Its the circle of life.

Parenting Advice - or "PA"as the cool kids say....

I think it’s important to understand your kids.  Not act like and dress like them (yea. you know who you are – ok, so sometimes that’s me…), but to relate to their interests. Acknowledging their world. I Facebook, Twitter and blog.  I know all about planking. I listen to Adele. I’ve witnessed a Wii Dance Party and I’ve watched Jersey Shore.  I do not approve. 

In return I’ve tried to teach them things from my generation.  Unlike our parents who told stories of walking in snow uphill both ways, I try to educate them in useful things.  Like when I quiz them on 1980’s hair bands.  Fyi, I no longer except “some old guy” as a valid answer.  My girls have watched most every Molly Ringwald movie, Weird Science and the Vacation movies.  I’ve explained the concept and allure of “big hair”.  They do not approve.

Most of our family communication is via text.  Although never when driving! Because I hear that’s bad.  I kinda feel like this is one way that connects us.  I’ve learned to understand their abbreviations, horrible spelling and short answers. And they’ve come to expect my longer, more detailed texts- which they lovingly refer to as “a book”.  I’ve even written a blog post on lol-ing.  So I’m hip and happening.  Despite the fact that I say things like hip and happening.

So when the following text conversation occurred, I was a bit shocked to find that I may not be connecting the generations as well as I’d hoped. 

Me: Are you going to go workout with me tonight?

Daughter: IDTS

Me: What?

Daughter: What… what?

Me: What is that acronym?

Daughter: What’s an acronym?

Me: *sigh* never mind.

By the way.  It means “I don’t think so”.  I suppose we’ll have to work on that.  or should I say…. “iswhtwot”.

PS: When my teenager checked this post for accuracy…. She didn’t know what “iswhtwot” was.  I win!

PSS: I had to explain it to the Hub too... maybe I don't win.