Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Warning: Necessity is really THE mother of children
Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I've concocted stories lies to make parenting easier. The following is a partial list of the little white lies whoppers I've told to my children:
1. The M in McDonald's does not mean that they only serve children on Mondays.
2. Toys R Us is not really a toy museum and you can really touch the toys.
3. Seeing a toy to buy on a commercial, well, is easier to buy that I've let on. When the announcer says, "You must be 18 to buy," it does not mean that the child who would play with said toy has to be 18 years old to buy it. In reality, I, as the parent, could buy it.
4. There is not really a shortage of Wii games because of El Nino.
5. The police didn't really threaten me with prison if you didn't eat all your veggies.
6. The dogs will not really protect you if there is a zombie outside your window. Since it is 1:30 a.m. when you stumbled down the hall to wake me and the dogs didn't even stir, it's a safe bet to say that Zack and Darby would probably sleep through an Undead Apocalypse.
7. Even though taking Holy Communion will fill you up spiritually, this one little wafer will not tide your hunger over until we get home thirty minutes later. (I think Wesley has caught on to that one)
8. Mommy is hiding the bag of jelly beans from you. The dogs do not have the capacity or the thumbs to to open my secret stash so there is only one reason for the hiding--I don't want you to eat any jelly beans until I can fish out all the red ones.
9. Telling my daughter that taking a sip of my coffee will result is in new orthodontia is really horrible. I know that but in my defense, I need all my morning coffee.
10. When I ask for patience during our morning prayer to school, it's not for parenting. Rather it is for biding my time until I can escape to a tropical island without detection.
Bonus Lie: I don't watch cartoons to monitor their content. I just like cartoons.
For all of these sins and the ones I'm sure I've done but cannot remember because my daughter drank my coffee again, I am sorry.
1. The M in McDonald's does not mean that they only serve children on Mondays.
2. Toys R Us is not really a toy museum and you can really touch the toys.
3. Seeing a toy to buy on a commercial, well, is easier to buy that I've let on. When the announcer says, "You must be 18 to buy," it does not mean that the child who would play with said toy has to be 18 years old to buy it. In reality, I, as the parent, could buy it.
4. There is not really a shortage of Wii games because of El Nino.
5. The police didn't really threaten me with prison if you didn't eat all your veggies.
6. The dogs will not really protect you if there is a zombie outside your window. Since it is 1:30 a.m. when you stumbled down the hall to wake me and the dogs didn't even stir, it's a safe bet to say that Zack and Darby would probably sleep through an Undead Apocalypse.
7. Even though taking Holy Communion will fill you up spiritually, this one little wafer will not tide your hunger over until we get home thirty minutes later. (I think Wesley has caught on to that one)
8. Mommy is hiding the bag of jelly beans from you. The dogs do not have the capacity or the thumbs to to open my secret stash so there is only one reason for the hiding--I don't want you to eat any jelly beans until I can fish out all the red ones.
9. Telling my daughter that taking a sip of my coffee will result is in new orthodontia is really horrible. I know that but in my defense, I need all my morning coffee.
10. When I ask for patience during our morning prayer to school, it's not for parenting. Rather it is for biding my time until I can escape to a tropical island without detection.
Bonus Lie: I don't watch cartoons to monitor their content. I just like cartoons.
For all of these sins and the ones I'm sure I've done but cannot remember because my daughter drank my coffee again, I am sorry.
Monday, December 17, 2012
For those heroes who were, are and will be teachers....
Earthbound Angels
I saw earthbound angels today
Lifting others with their grace
Always trying and sometimes falling
A shine within their peaceful face.
Some were holding hearts and hands
With their charges throughout the day
When the moon dripped diamonds in the night,
The angels still protected as they pray.
And in the end their children know
To come to them for love
For earthbound angels are teachers
Who are sent from up Above.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Warning: When you decide to become a graffitti artist, get spell check.
You know, my son, Wesley, is very bright. There are times, however, that even the brightest child can display bursts of goofiness.
Example 1:
If you read this warning, you should know Wesley's proclivity to Sharpies. Recently, in middle school, the new fad is to "tattoo" yourself with Sharpies. This trend coupled with his Sharpie usage and unpredictable goofiness in this warning is trouble.
Last month, he comes home with proudly displaying his tattoo. "I wrote 'I was here'," my little junior Andy Warhol announces.
I try not to laugh as I read his leg. "It says, 'I mas here.' You wrote upside down, didn't you? Don't worry--it will come off when you take your weekly bath."
Wesley shrugs off my attempt at spell check. "No, it won't 'cause it's in Sharpie."
If you're going to be a criminal, be a great one and use spell check. It will come in handy with future body art, ransom notes and any correspondence with your attorney.
Example 2:
While this is not in the graffiti arena, I felt that it fit in this warning. Wesley volunteers me to make cupcakes on Wednesdays to sell at school to replace a poster making machine. I don't mind because hey, we all need posters, don't we?
I make the cupcakes and Wesley makes a sign proclaiming that my cupcakes are great.
Notice the spelling of "homemade". While I admit I can be a word that rhymes with witch, I am no ho!
Example 1:
If you read this warning, you should know Wesley's proclivity to Sharpies. Recently, in middle school, the new fad is to "tattoo" yourself with Sharpies. This trend coupled with his Sharpie usage and unpredictable goofiness in this warning is trouble.
Last month, he comes home with proudly displaying his tattoo. "I wrote 'I was here'," my little junior Andy Warhol announces.
I try not to laugh as I read his leg. "It says, 'I mas here.' You wrote upside down, didn't you? Don't worry--it will come off when you take your weekly bath."
Wesley shrugs off my attempt at spell check. "No, it won't 'cause it's in Sharpie."
If you're going to be a criminal, be a great one and use spell check. It will come in handy with future body art, ransom notes and any correspondence with your attorney.
Example 2:
While this is not in the graffiti arena, I felt that it fit in this warning. Wesley volunteers me to make cupcakes on Wednesdays to sell at school to replace a poster making machine. I don't mind because hey, we all need posters, don't we?
I make the cupcakes and Wesley makes a sign proclaiming that my cupcakes are great.
Notice the spelling of "homemade". While I admit I can be a word that rhymes with witch, I am no ho!
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Warning: My children will take the gold if whining was an Olympic sport.
Welcome to WhineFest 2012! This year's contestents are Wesley and Regan. The official is the Mean Mommy.
Here is the schedule of arguments and whines:
1. Who gets to pick out their donut first? (Wesley)
2. I want to go first getting my hair cut. (Wesley)
3. Feeding the dogs while throwing a fit. (Regan)
4. This rare number 2 yellow pencil is mine (Wesley)
5. What to record on the DVR--Gator Boys or Big Time Rush? (Regan)
6. This sock is mine. No it is mine. (Both)
7. I'm running away to be with a family who appreciates me. (Wesley)
8. Long division--God's revenge on children (Regan)
9. I can't get out of the car because my stupid bookbag is blocking the door. (Regan)
Please be advised that whine topics may be subject to change and the official may drink some cheap wine.
Here is the schedule of arguments and whines:
1. Who gets to pick out their donut first? (Wesley)
2. I want to go first getting my hair cut. (Wesley)
3. Feeding the dogs while throwing a fit. (Regan)
4. This rare number 2 yellow pencil is mine (Wesley)
5. What to record on the DVR--Gator Boys or Big Time Rush? (Regan)
6. This sock is mine. No it is mine. (Both)
7. I'm running away to be with a family who appreciates me. (Wesley)
8. Long division--God's revenge on children (Regan)
9. I can't get out of the car because my stupid bookbag is blocking the door. (Regan)
Please be advised that whine topics may be subject to change and the official may drink some cheap wine.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Warning: Don't stop for possums or other rodentia
I was driving to school at 6:00 a.m. the other week with a bickering Wesley and Regan.
On Monday, a flash of four legged creature caused me to brake suddenly. Oh my God, I almost hit a dog. I get out and it is still dark.
"Here, puppy, puppy," I call softly. After all, I don't want to wake anyone--I'll leave that task to the smackdown going on in my backseat. Regan is "hammer fisting" Wesley who is screaming that he'll do a kick on her. No wonder the puppy ran away.
I get to the ditch where the dog was hiding and see a set of glowing pink eyes and a large hairless tail. So, the puppy has conjunctivitis and male pattern balding? Oh, but no, it's a large possum growling at me. I squeal like a stuck pig and dive back into the car. Fortunately, the kids are still arguing and pay no mind to the hysterical parent.
Tuesday comes and I watch for the possum. Instead, a intoxicated squirrel falls from an overhanging tree onto my poor Vger, the now paid for Dodge Avenger. Like most inebriated rodents and humans, the squirrel has no apparent injuries and scampers off back to the tree. My children remain clueless as they argue the merits of school pizza vs Mom's frozen pizza from Walmart.
Hump day finds a wake of vultures greedily eating the remains of what looks like a raccoon. I speed up and try not to get splashed with raccoon guts. An aggrieved vulture swoops down on Vger splaying it with vulture poop. Wesley raises his head from his video game to comment that "that bird was a large eagle."
By Thursday, I'm a nervous wreck. What assault will the Animalia Kingdom have for me today? Fortunately, I don't have wait long. Bambi and his horrid mother prance across the road, stopping momentarily to pose for the classic "deer in the headlights look" and listen for my multi-cultural swearing (I can swear in Spanish, French, Latin, English and Korean, thank you very much. I believe in the fruitless hope that swearing is ok if it's not in your native language.)
Friday--I'm ready. It's Ticked Off Chick vs. Wild Kingdom. Alligator, snake, wasp--it doesn't matter. I'm loaded with a Super Soaker Thunderstorm. Only one living thing will make it and that thing will be me.
The assault started with the fading sound of a cicada and then....the cat, Phat Phrancis. She hopped onto Vger, giving the vulture poop a wide swath, and started purring under my hand. She jumped into my hands. Oh, she wants to be friends.
With the precision of a field marshall, she dropped the dead cicada onto my shoulder which rolled down my arm. I am sure she had coordinated the entire animal attack this week.
What a canis (Latin for female dog--not a sin because it's in Latin).
On Monday, a flash of four legged creature caused me to brake suddenly. Oh my God, I almost hit a dog. I get out and it is still dark.
"Here, puppy, puppy," I call softly. After all, I don't want to wake anyone--I'll leave that task to the smackdown going on in my backseat. Regan is "hammer fisting" Wesley who is screaming that he'll do a kick on her. No wonder the puppy ran away.
I get to the ditch where the dog was hiding and see a set of glowing pink eyes and a large hairless tail. So, the puppy has conjunctivitis and male pattern balding? Oh, but no, it's a large possum growling at me. I squeal like a stuck pig and dive back into the car. Fortunately, the kids are still arguing and pay no mind to the hysterical parent.
Tuesday comes and I watch for the possum. Instead, a intoxicated squirrel falls from an overhanging tree onto my poor Vger, the now paid for Dodge Avenger. Like most inebriated rodents and humans, the squirrel has no apparent injuries and scampers off back to the tree. My children remain clueless as they argue the merits of school pizza vs Mom's frozen pizza from Walmart.
Hump day finds a wake of vultures greedily eating the remains of what looks like a raccoon. I speed up and try not to get splashed with raccoon guts. An aggrieved vulture swoops down on Vger splaying it with vulture poop. Wesley raises his head from his video game to comment that "that bird was a large eagle."
By Thursday, I'm a nervous wreck. What assault will the Animalia Kingdom have for me today? Fortunately, I don't have wait long. Bambi and his horrid mother prance across the road, stopping momentarily to pose for the classic "deer in the headlights look" and listen for my multi-cultural swearing (I can swear in Spanish, French, Latin, English and Korean, thank you very much. I believe in the fruitless hope that swearing is ok if it's not in your native language.)
Friday--I'm ready. It's Ticked Off Chick vs. Wild Kingdom. Alligator, snake, wasp--it doesn't matter. I'm loaded with a Super Soaker Thunderstorm. Only one living thing will make it and that thing will be me.
The assault started with the fading sound of a cicada and then....the cat, Phat Phrancis. She hopped onto Vger, giving the vulture poop a wide swath, and started purring under my hand. She jumped into my hands. Oh, she wants to be friends.
With the precision of a field marshall, she dropped the dead cicada onto my shoulder which rolled down my arm. I am sure she had coordinated the entire animal attack this week.
What a canis (Latin for female dog--not a sin because it's in Latin).
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