Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Bully Beat Down

From adolescents to adults, there are multiple transitions to be made. We learn as we go and develop new techniques to maneuver through life. We eventually learn (some later than sooner) that kicking, screaming and pouting don’t produce the results we were hoping for. Some never learn.  We begin to attack from new angles. As we mature, we find new ways to handle confrontations, address uncomfortable situations and how confront to others in a way that doesn’t t require removing shoes and ear rings and getting all Jerry Springerish.
Whilst I don’t typically find myself in that dramatic of a situation, I do find myself currently in a I’ll cut you type of dilemma concerning Kylee. I can totally relate to those mama lions, bears, elephants or tigers on National Geographic because I am ready to pounce on someone.
The past couple of weeks Kylee has been coming home with horror stories about a fellow classmate. Let me preface that I am fully aware that she is 5,that she can be dramatic herself and tends to exaggerate the truth sometimes. But I find it difficult to believe that Kylee has something new and appalling to tell me EVERY day about the same kid if there weren’t some truth behind it. If only 5% of what she tells me were  true, that is enough for me to want to secretly trip this kid in the hall and drop a poison ivy leaf in his cubby.
The thing about daycares, preschools, private schools or public schools is that the circle of moms, we talk! And you’re either in with the talkers, or you’re being talked about. I know that sounds very high school and very Mean Girls-like. It’s the truth. And if you aren’t in with the talkers, it’s because your kid is either the booger kid, the germy kid, the dirty kid, the annoying kid, or the bully kid… There is also the possibility that you yourself are extremely anti-social and choose not to say good morning in the hall or at the sign in desk  and/or are blissfully unaware that your kid IS the germy, annoying bully kid. There’s a small 2% chance that you aren’t in with the talkers because your amazing husband gets up extra early to allow you to sleep in a tad longer while he takes your tykes to school. In which case, you probably have your own circle of friends with your own circle of problems… None of which I can think of right now, but I hear we all have em. Oh, and bite me!
Needless to say, the mother of the hoodlum who is targeting Kylee is not in the circle of talkers that I know of. I’m beginning to understand why. Her son is always on red…. I guess you need to know what each color indicates. Here is a table of reference.
Blue – best color achievable. This means your child went above and beyond to be helpful and had a great attitude all day. Basically your child brown nosed all the live long day.
Green – Great color to receive. This means your child was good today and had little to no issues.
Yellow – Good day, but had to be corrected a few times to stay on task and follow directions. The kids who always get red strive to get on yellow.
Orange – Teacher is losing her patience with your child’s antics and primitive behavior.
Red – Your child is the reason the teacher drinks and considering a job at Sonic.
So this little fart gets on red every day. Kylee tells me he tears down whatever she is building, colors on her papers to mess them up, cuts in line, doesn’t listen to the teacher, throws wood chips at her on the play ground, and is basically the next Justin Bieber, a tool.  My words, not hers.
I remember a week or so ago when the kid and his mom walked in the room when it was just me and Kylee emptying her folder, and I overheard the boy tell his mom that she is the girl he hates… yes, HATES… Kylee and I looked at one another and shared the same facial expression of complete shock. I encouraged Kylee to ignore hateful people, while his mom apparently took MY advice and ignored her hateful son.  Awkward. I might have rolled my eyes a tad at her.
The latest report is the dweeb told Kylee he wished she were dead and kicked her. WHA!? How could this be allowed in Pre-K?  
I reached out to a couple mothers in her class to confirm my suspicion of this kid and my inkling was right. He is a pest and was quite possibly kicked out of his previous daycare for being a total douche menace to society.  
There could possibly be a bully beat down in the drop off zone if this kid's mother doesn't take her parenting vitamin and get this demon child under control. I’ve called the school and expressed my distain concerns about this boy. Hopefully a resolution will come from it that doesn’t involve my brass knuckles and bail money.

Stay tuned.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Pin me

I don’t think I have been this addicted to anything since Jonathan Taylor Thomas in Home Improvement.
Pinterest consumes my mind and steels any potential of being productive or accomplishing anything for the day. My mind is on a non-stop cycle of pins, boards and more pins. And just as soon as my mind is on the verge of resting from crafts, recipes and sparkly nail polish, my mind generator kicks in and before I know it I’m pinning and repining!
The other day I compared Pinterest to internet cocaine and while I have never actually experimented with cocaine, I hear the side effects are quite similar and I was proud of my precise comparison.
I am finding my inner crafty girl and can’t stop thinking of other fun DIY projects. I actually spent my lunch hour the other day at Hobby Lobby just browsing for ideas I got from pins! HOBBY.LOBBY! I’m adjusting my grocery list to accommodate some of the neat recipes I repined and thinking of upcoming events I could possibly work in those adorable snowmen made from marshmallows and pretzel stix. I have an incurable urge to organize my flip flops and food pantry and tubberware. I am now on the prowl for some old shades to make a vintage mail holder with. I am saying “Why didn’t I think of that” multiple times a day. I’m taking inventory of all my junk and trying to create something pin worthy from it… I am out.of.control.
If you don’t participate or have not been invited yet to get all pinny with us, then chances are you have no idea what I am blabbering about and in which case, I apologize. If you do Pin, chances are you know EXACTLY what I am going through and the pure joy received from finding a new awesome pin!
I have invited a few friends to join me in my down whirl spiral straight to the pin-board abyss.   I guess you could call me their enabler, dealer, antagonist…? Whatever! Don’t judge me!  They will be much happier once they experience the pure adrenalin of adding more pins to their boards and finding new ways to spend their hard earned paychecks at Hobby Lobby and Lowe’s.
Do I control the pins, or do the pins control me? No one can tell. I’ve wasted so much time writing this blog that I haven’t pinned anything in like 15 minutes so I must sign off and get busy.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Weekends that start at 6am end with whine AND wine......

Answer: I make choices based on what I want not what is best. I make you come into work earlier each week and work overtime on weekends. I don’t listen to what you have to say. I don’t pay you for anything. You rarely receive appreciation from me and when you do, it’s because I want something from you. I make you wipe my butt and walk behind me to clean up my messes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Jeopardy music~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Question: Who is your ex husband? Who are YOUR CHILDREN?
I had a scary, awful realization this weekend. I work for my kids. I mean, they run this crazy a*# circus freak show and I’m just the stupid carnie hauling all their stupid crap from show to show. All this time, I kind of thought I was in charge. (Pause for uncontrollable laughter) Come to find out, they were just making me think I was in control by randomly following my instructions and a few yes maam’s here and there…It was all an act, part of a bigger scheme to take over my sanity completely and run me into total submission. They grant me a few solid days complete with good attitudes, kindness towards one another, flexibility with the dinner menu, yes maam, no maam, thank you, no thank you, please, etc… But all of that is a tactic to weaken my defenses and catch me off guard for the ADHD Dennis the Menace type behavior that is about to spout from their little bodies at 6am on a Sunday.
For the love of all things sacred I do not understand the chemical imbalance my children suffer from. Monday-Friday I’m banging spoons on pots and ringing bells to pry their motionless bodies from their beds to get ready for school. To add insult to injury it was like pulling teeth from a rabid polar bear to get them to go to bed the previous night. It’s a battle to lay them down; it’s a battle waking them up…EXCEPT.ON.THE.WEEKENDS. GAH!
Weekends used to be the time to recover from a week’s worth of office politics, errands, stupid customers, annoying co-workers and the source of total rejuvenation. How am I supposed to recover from my week of commission based work when these children wake up so dadgum early? At first I thought it’s just one of those things. Now I realize that it isn’t by happenstance. It’s just a small part of their devilish plan to rob me of my tranquility, poise and self control. I do not operate kindly at 6am. During the week at least I have a paycheck incentive to fake it…Not.on.the.weekends.
 I do everything disgruntled-like until about 12pm when I am able to sleep while baby sleeps.
 On Saturday we took our Christmas pictures and both kids did incredibly well. Kylee is a natural diva and can work a camera better than Cindy Crawford or Kim Kardashian. Logan was in a swell mood and smiled for everything. It wasn’t until the little guy working the computer insisted on showing me every different crop and photo shop available. Kylee and Logan sensed that my ability to focus on them was weakened and took it as an opportunity to be completely destructive and annoying. All the sudden that studio felt like 105° and my arm pits were on fire.
We finally made it home and the hope of a pleasant weekend set before us as we snuggled and watched Christmas movies together on the couch. It was all very Bing Crosbyish. It was so legit; I even posted it to my Facebook and apparently jinxed the whole weekend by doing so. I had no idea that in less than 18 hours, our weekend would descend so quickly to the point of me losing my schmidt!
Our Sunday went a little something like this.
10 til 6:00am – Kids friggin wake up
6:05-6:30am – make strawberry milk and oatmeal
6:30-7:15am – Kids see cookies and refuse to eat oatmeal
7:17am – Give kids cookies in exchange for the promise of quiet TV time
7:23am – Cookies gone, promises broken.
8:00-8:45am – I took a shower with 4 interruptions 6 random questions and 2 screams. The concept of privacy is completely extinct.
9:00-9:35am – Prayer…lots.of.prayer
9:45-10:15am – Get everyone dressed for church.
10:20: Leave for church
After church, lunch and naps the kids were refreshed and repowered with more undomesticated energy and I was…not.
The weather was cold and rainy and as a result kept us cooped up and on top of one another all day. I assume the kids were going stir crazy. That is the only explanation for all the madness. As a last ditch effort to salvage my mental stability we went to my friend’s house for a play date.  It sounded like a good idea at the time but we quickly realized that cold, rainy weather makes kids ca-razy! Our visit unintentionally turned my friend’s house into a zoo when all the monkeys are accidentally let out. With our welcome worn out like a pair of granny panties headed home.
As the clock got closer to their bed time I anxiously awaited for that last hour of my really poopy day to sink into my chair with an ancient episode of Sex and the City and a glass of wine.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Things kids say......

Kids can be a great source of many things. Love, comfort, frustration, humor, the list goes on and on. For me and my situation, my kids are the source to everything in my life. As a single mom my eyes can’t always be on them at all times (please don’t call CPS), but my ears can be. When we are driving in the car and my eyes are on the traffic in front of me but my ears are in the back seat. Or at the grocery store, my eyes are on the 2/$1 Chocolate Bars canned veggies, but my ears are in the shopping cart.  Or in the kitchen, my eyes are on the stove but my ears are in the living room. With my eyes being unavailable 24/7, my ears catch a lot of stuff that my eyes can’t filter the truth of. I often just smirk at the inappropriateness of what I hear leave their innocent little mouths and enter my dirty little mind.  Don’t judge me for having a pervy mind. Sometimes you just gotta laugh it off.
In my defense, I totally fought every urge to say that’s what she said.
In no particular order of hilariousness…..
10.) Logan, get your own balls, these are mine! (Referencing Christmas ornaments)
9.) Logan lick the pink part, it’s the sweetest! (Referencing a two colored lollipop)
8.) Your head is WAY bigger than mine. (Comparing noggin sizes)
7.) Sh*% Ear Mommy (Logan translation – Sit Here Mommy)
6.) Touch her, she’s soft and she likes it. (Referencing a puppy)
5.) You have to sit on his lap to get what you want (In reference to meeting Santa)
4.) Don’t stick it in there (There’s no telling)
3.) He made my sheets sticky!!! (Logan got in her bed with sticky hands)
2.) I like to lick them first then eat em (Referencing peanut butter crackers)
1.) You smell like a toilet seat (um….??)
*Bonus: You can’t fit the whole thing in your mouth…. (Referring to a banana.....I know!)
 Totally porny but as I stood in the produce section, I LOL’ed.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Happy Facebooking!!!

Facebook is a great tool for every type of person. Some use it to stay connected with relatives, old friends, classmates. Others use it to legally stalk people, keep track of their day to day lives. Some might use it to boost their own egos while others use it to keep their phony façade current with the masses. Whatever your reason, we have all been on the other side of the screen thinking, What the what is wrong with them?
I have been sick all week with an overly hyper 5 year so my tolerance for people has hit a record low. I estimate that my threshold for stupidity will increase significantly by the end of the Holiday weekend. But right now, here are a few things you all know you wish you could post on Facebook but never do.
To the happy couples who have to let everyone know how in love they are with their wife/husband:
Truth is if you’re truly happy you wouldn’t have to let your 667 friends know via mobile uploads. Truth is your real friends already know. Truth is you probably aren’t as happy as your posts say you are. Truth is you really annoy everyone. Truth is, stop it!
To the people who Check In everywhere they go:
Truth is I hardly think about you until I see you are checking in at HEB and then headed to the bank…. Then you check in at the bank. Then you check in at home and we think, finally it’s gonna stop…. Until you check in your bed…. Really? Step away from the phone. Be productive and go play MW3.
To the people who constantly tell us what they are making for dinner (typically healthy food):
Truth is no one is impressed that you downloaded a healthy recipe from Truth is you could have made that same meal in half the time if you stopped posting your daily menu and calorie count on Facebook. We all know you sneak out of bed at night to eat Little Debbie’s Swiss cake rolls.  Betcha don’t post that!
To the people who take pictures of themselves in the bathroom:
Truth is it doesn’t look as good as you think it does. Truth is, you need a hobby, and maybe a friend.
To the people who have nothing nice to say:
Log off and shut up.
To the people who Twitterbook:
Truth is if you are posting on Twitter, it doesn’t need to sync to Facebook. They are separate social networks with different formats.  I don’t have the time nor the patience to translate your hashtag#-H8t@ blah updates!
To the people who purposely post open-ended updates:
This parallels with the negative Nancy posts. Don’t post stuff like, Wow, I can’t believe that just happened. I’m totally screwed now! Then when your friends, stalkers and mom want to make sure you aren’t about to jump off a cliff, you don’t respond. Truth is you should have just posted: I just want attention, please leave me a comment
To the TMI people:
Truth is you must have forgotten that your grandmother and pastor are your friends and might not need to know that you call your husband Bid Daddy, or that last night was amazing… ICK! Truth is you just got put on the UNSUBSCRIBE list.
I love Facebook. The beauty of it is you can post and say almost anything you want whether it is true, false, politically correct, inappropriate or risqué. It’s your profile, your reputation, your opinion and what I think really doesn’t matter and I know that. Like I said, my tolerance for it has been lowered as my fever has risen. This time next week I should be back to my normal self that will consist of a lot of eye rolling, laughing, and unsubscribing. Happy Facebooking to all!

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Newtons Law

One of Newton’s laws of motion states that, Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it. He must have been referring to Ex-Husbands.  
I think that along with every good thing, every good time, every good experience or good anything comes a negative one to counter that. I say this because I had a very good weekend but it was immediately shadowed by the reality of my situation.
It was my custodial weekend so when I found out I was going out of town; I made arrangements for the kids. A while back, I had requested that the X-man and I switch weekends to accommodate my upcoming busy schedule. Thus maximizing my QT with the kids and minimizing the babysitter’s time with them. It was made clear by the X-man that accommodating me in any way was no longer on his give a damn list. So when I was finagling the final details of my weekend out of town, I didn’t find it necessary to involve him. He inevitably found out I was leaving for the weekend and volunteered to keep the kids instead of my pre-arranged childcare.  In spite of my personal opinions of him, I would prefer the kids be with their dad if I have to be away. So I agreed to his request knowing he would bill me for his services in the form of total bull crap.
I got back into town late Saturday night so I set my alarm to pick them up early Sunday morning before church. When I arrived to the brothel my ex in-laws house I was pleasantly surprised that Hannah Montana’s car wasn’t there for once. Kylee has been expressing her dislike for her continuous presence when she is with her dad. Of course I take into consideration that Kylee likes to please us by saying things she thinks we want to hear. I typically take it with a grain of salt but I do believe there is truth behind her complaints.
I ring the doorbell and on the other side of the door I hear joyful cries of happiness and shouts of “MOMMY!!” I almost broke the door down I was so excited to get my babies back. I was greeted with hugs and kisses from the kids.  They still needed to get their shoes on and Kylee was anxious to show me all the stuff her dad bought for her so I sat patiently on the couch. Kylee tried to lure me back to her dad’s room and before I could decline the offer the X-man rounds the corner in a panic to keep me out. Shortly after that I hear Kylee trying to wake Hannah Montana up.  Sadly I wasn’t surprised or shocked that she was once again in his bed.
I wish when choices like these are made I could have a genuine flabbergast-like reaction. But the only emotion that crashes into me every time is disappointment. I disagree with the “Do as I say, not as I do” parenting method that he so evidently relies on. Relying on a 19 year old to consider the effects she has on someone else’s children is foolish of me to hope for. She laid low and probably oozing with shame until I left. As I was buckling the kids in I could see his bedroom blinds moving. If only she knew she didn’t have to hide to sneak a peek at me thru the window. We could have actually met, shook hands and pretended it was nice to meet one another. I have no desire to meet her, although I have no desire for her to share a bed with my children either. I guess my vote doesn’t count here.
This day to day roller coaster of disappointment is either getting easier to ride or my tolerance for it is building. I am learning to let go of a lot that is out of my control. The fact is I don’t get to hand select his girlfriends or pick the music and TV they are subjected to. I do get to explain why Jersey Shore and Teen Mom are not appropriate to watch, and why she can’t sing LMFAO’s song I’m Sexy and I Know It. I predict there will be plenty more occasions where I will have to explain that wrong is wrong no matter who does it. I’m not responsible for his actions. I’m responsible for cleaning up the mess his actions leave behind.
So in reference to Newton’s law stating that Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it…. I will be that external force applied to my children’s lives. 

Thursday, November 17, 2011

A trip to the doctor

This week walked up behind me, pushed me down, pulled it’s pants down took a dump on my new “I can do anything” perspective. My week started with the onset of the I don’t know what my kid has sickness. Last week the school called to tell me Logan wouldn’t keep his shirt on in class. I was all like, so what’s the big deal?  Then they were all like We think you should come get him. Later found out he had a rash all over his chest. One doctor’s visit, 5 hours of missed work and $25.00 later the eczema I already knew he had was confirmed. Monday night Logan sounded like Gollum with a smoking addiction. Come Tuesday I knew that cough needed to be heavily medicated. So did mommy.
Taking the kids to the doctor is like a scene from Cheaper by the Dozen.  I had to wake the munchkins from their nap at school, which inconsequently gave them energy equivalent to a 5 Hour energy/Mountain Dew cocktail. Kylee seemed overjoyed to be out of school early and Logan seemed confused. I casually discussed with Kylee what my expectations of her were while at the doctor’s office and she seemed quite anxious to please me… I was naturally suspicious.
Logan’s name was called and we began the 21 questions segment of our visit and then the waiting game. I love their pediatrician because he usually gets us in and out without devouring 2 hours of my time. Around the time the nurse does an about-face and leaves us alone to wait for the doctor is when Kylee takes her goodie-two-shoe mask off and begins to mount the walls like a spider monkey. Conveniently Logan copies everything his big sister does so he too begins crawling, climbing and jumping. They both get on the exam table layered with the loudest tissue paper ever produced. Kylee then begins to spank the clown painting on the wall, and Logan joins in as well. I’m sure in the next room it sounded a lot less like clown spanking and a lot more like wall banging. I finally peeled them off of the medical examination table which they transformed it into their personal trampoline only to have their attention diverted to the paper towel dispenser.
For a room the size of a handicap stall they sure do manage to get into a lot of crap! When the doctor walks in I sometimes hear harps and angels. At this point Kylee is no longer is aiming to please me or gain favor with me thru her actions. She has moved on to doing and saying things only to make Logan do and say them even louder. It’s now a competition between Kylee and the doctor of who can talk the loudest. I try to keep my focus on the important medical mumbo jumbo the doctor is spouting out. Something about asthma, or croup… Or was it bronchitis? Kylee be quiet! I catch almost every 3rd word. I am giving the look to Kylee in hopes to ignite the fear but it wasn’t working. I was attempting to be one of those Love and Logic moms and I’m pretty sure I failed or at least got a C-.
We load up on stickers, stamps and suckers and hit the road. Kylee was trying to put her goody-two-shoe mask back on before I noticed she ever took it off. Nice try darling. In love and logic I politely told her if she ever behaved that way again, I would ask the nurse to give her a shot. Now that’s logic!

Monday, November 7, 2011

What a great weekend looks like

This weekend was AH-mazing! Filled will everything a weekend should be filled with. Fun, friends, laughter, picnics and memories…
One of my girlfriends shipped her husband off to the Texas Motor Speedway for the races so it was just us gals and our kiddos. We concocted a plan to take kids on a train ride and have a picnic. She and I are both super organized. We’re the kind of moms who always have extra, everything; the type of mom who could build a small race car out of the contents in our diaper bags and clean it with berry scented hand sanitizer. We think of everything ahead of time, and plan for every possible scenario. However we did not plan for or anticipate the car seat drama that would come from trying to carpool together. Third row seating should be sufficient when transporting multiple kids, but each kid wants to sit THERE and not HERE. In efforts to please each kid with an opinion we tried to fit 2 car seats and 1 booster in the middle row. But the superfluous arm rests on each car seat made it logistically impossible. We tried to force it, but it somehow ended with me cutting my thumb and silently saying screw it. We moved the booster to the 3rd row and asked for volunteers… HA! It was like a bad episode of I Love Lucy, or watching monkeys try to screw in light bulbs to a wall socket. Total confusion turned to frustration which lead to blood, sweat and tears. Literally. Strapping those kids in a car was like preparing for a NASA launch to the moon. But once we got everyone safely secured, we were off and already wishing one of us had remembered to bring a flask of wine. We decided to stop at the gas station for wine a couple waters and red bulls and in unison like a symphony the kids were begging to go in. GAH!
What would a car ride full of talking kids be without games?? Unfortunately my spunky and creative offspring was the chairman of the games. She created and made up the rules for all the games. It was one of those damned if you do and damned if you don’t kind of games. She would make up the most random rules, and when it was our turn, we would do and say and breathe exactly like she demanded and yet we still weren’t following the rules! So we suggested the quiet game.
We finally arrive to the miniature train station, unbuckle the herd and they popped out of the car like little jack in the boxes. We immediately turn on our mama soundtrack to track#1, STOP, DON’T CROSS THE STREET. Track#2, WAIT!  Track#3, I SAID WAIT!!! Then of course the kiddos have to pee, so we let them take turns peeing on and behind the porta-potty. Because peeing IN them is only for #2’s. We get our stuff and hear ALL ABOARD and we were off! The kid’s enjoyed the ride, and so did we. I think we found joy in the fact that the kids were forced to sit still in one place for an extended period of time. It was a miniature train ride for them and miniature break for us. Something I like to call strategy and WIN-WIN!
After the ride, we loaded up and headed to a duck pond for our picnic. The kids ran rapid, fed the ducks, fed themselves and enjoyed the weather. My friend and I actually got to talk about grown up stuff while the kids entertained themselves. When one of the kids told us they had to poop, that was our cue to pack it up and head home.
My friend and her son headed home for a little while.  We had a short intermission and she returned later that evening with Mexican food and another friend. We planned a mini-play date for the kids, but in all honesty it was just as much a play date for us girls as well. We let the kids dump out the toy chest and in return they allowed us to have a semi-un-interrupted conversation. It was lovely. I laughed so hard I felt my abs pulsing. It was a great Saturday night!
The time change never really affects me in a positive or negative way. I never legitimately feel as though I have gained or lost any time.  Realistically you don’t…. I know that is debatable but in my head, you don’t.
Sunday mornings in my house looks a lot the New York Stock Exchange when the DOW is down. (whatever that means) Lost shoes, mismatched outfits, lost bible, spilled cereal, gum in hair, screaming and total chaos. Ironic how chaotic Sunday’s can be when I prepare for it the night before. I lay out clothes, sit shoes by the door, get breakfast ready, yet somehow it all goes to haywire. But yesterday, we woke up and I had time to make breakfast before church… NOT lucky charms. But eggs, biscuits and bacon. A real breakfast. Not to mention we had time to get dressed with no fighting or wardrobe changes (Kylee), everyone knew where their shoes were, and we arrived to church and had only forgotten one thing. Another win! So maybe the time change does work.

 This weekend rocked! So thankful for the chance to make amazing memories with my wonderful kids and super duper friends!

Friday, November 4, 2011

I blame me

In life I have found that people tend to constantly seek and find people to place blame on. It’s an instinctual habit that we learn at an early age in life. I didn’t do it, she did! The natural answer to our parent’s question of Who did this is most always Not me and we almost immediately narc and blame whoever is around at the time. I am discovering the older that I get, old habits die hard. As an adult, I still encounter this inherent need to blame others. Whether I am doing the blaming or someone is blaming me. We all deal with it no matter what our age is.
This week was relatively excellent. Kylee has turned over a new leaf, or so it seems. Her attitude is changing, she is responding to me less explosively, she is respecting me and obeying me. Logan has discovered his voice and is not afraid to use it. But behind all good things lurks the enemy, waiting to kill, steal and destroy. I blame myself for allowing him to be successful last night. Not The X Man, Hannah Montana, the Ex-MIL not my lawyer. But me.
My 5 year old informed me of something that I am sure I was never supposed to know about and something that only reaffirmed my every doubt in her father. A tsunami of anger, frustration, disappointment, shock and fed-up-ness engulfed me. The questions my 5 year old had were completely unanswerable without implying things about her daddy that I would rather her find out on her own.
Of course I immediately addressed the latest issue with the X Man and received the same humdrum, predictable response. Relax, it’s no big deal. Stop over-reacting. Sorry you don’t agree…. Same ole same ole.
I set myself up for a 2 vs. 1 fight. I pursued a third party for help which I now know was a wasteful attempt. An I should’ve known better type of outcome. But nonetheless, I blame me. Every enemy you face requires some kind of fuel to keep pursuing you. They need to know that their attacks are causing damage and pain in order to keep putting forth effort on you, their prey. I provided the fuel last night. I willingly handed it over. I could have seeked God’s presence in the crappy situation I was in and asked for His words for a response. I could have prayed. I could have stopped to take deep breathes, I could have done things differently. Instead I answered with my flesh and feelings and allowed Satan to operate my thumbs as the texts steadily went out, one after the other. Insult after insult. I used very private details as daggers and threw them with unrelenting force.
I always begin and end my days in prayer. I usually pray after the chaos of the night simmers down. After dishes and Dino Dan, after baths and books, and teeth are brushed and hair is combed. I nestle into my bed and pray out loud. Last night I found myself on my knees. Which is really more symbolic than necessary. I like to reflect on the events of my day and find and recognize God’s presence in every circumstance.  It’s humbling to see just how available He was but I was too busy reloading my mouth to fire off bullets of pain.
 As I prayed for forgiveness, I had plenty of regrets on tap and repented for each one. I humbled myself and acknowledged the steps I had taken that did not glorify His name but rather fueled Satan’s bonfire of hate.  Asking God to reveal His truth is sometimes difficult to encounter. Especially when the truth is that I conducted myself the opposite of the way a Christian should. I profess faith in Jesus Christ and I aim to be Christ-like. But I failed last night. And the pain that accompanies letting down my Father has a lingering sting that doesn’t get relieved quickly. If not for times of trial and scrutiny, when will our faith be tested? In times of joy and happiness? Unlikely. In the midst of controversy we don’t see the great opportunity in front of us to be salt and light to the world. We see the potential to hurt one who has hurt us. We see a chance for justice and revenge. Something Christ never seeks.
I am still recovering from the hangover of guilt that accompanies my choices from last night. I’m finding a lot of peace, humbleness, hope and joy in the action of grabbing my blame by the balls. Ultimately, blame doesn’t matter. It doesn’t make you a happier person knowing who is truly at fault for something. It only draws attention to the injustice in your life and ignites the anger in your heart.
I am hoping this post will hold me accountable to my new goals.
·         Let go of blame
·         Forgive everyone
·         Respond with love or not at all
I’m certain this goal list will only continue to grow the more trials I face. I am not perfect and thankfully never claimed to be in writing. 
The secret to dissipating anger and resentment is found in forgiveness. Even if it was unrequested, give it anyways. You can’t forgive a person, if you’re still blaming them.
Someone sent this to me today and it was quite timely.
Now, the forgiveness that I hoarded has sprouted inside my heart like a crippled seed yielding bitter fruit.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

The X Man strikes again

While the kids were with the X Man this weekend I got all proactive-ish and cleaned out their closet and drawers. I knew I would never be successful at this if the kids were present because Kylee insists on wearing her summer dresses even when it’s 46° in the morning and claims it still fits as long as she doesn’t bend over, or jump, or move…. See mom?! It fits!! My good friend sent me her son’s winter wardrobe from last year, so I was able to restock Logan’s drawers quite plentifully and had enough to share with a friend and send some to the X Man.  It’s probably the most productive thing I did all weekend to be honest. Dude and I were invited to a costume party Saturday night.  Knowing the kids were with their dad and not at home with a sitter made the night much more enjoyable. I took my berry flavored 5 hour energy and had a really fun time together.
Sunday was the type of day I think everyone needs from time to time. I had no plans, no agenda, no errands, no chores and no responsibility. No one needed me. No one was making demands on me, or touching me, or climbing on me, or asking to be fed or changed. It was a peaceful, quiet and a lazy day jam packed with cheesy horror movies, pajama pants, Sonic cheeseburgers and the dude. I can’t wait to do that again.
Mondays after The X Man’s weekend is like Christmas morning. Around 3pm I start getting all giddy and excited. I become a minute hoarding clock watcher. When 4:30 hits all you can see is a trail of smoke from my desk to the door. Seeing Logan’s face light up and hear him wail, Mommmeeeeeeey is better than chocolate and peanut butter. Then we go to Kylee’s class and I get a second serving of excitement! This is something I never get full of.  It’s my consolation prize for being without them all weekend.
We I’ve been working on Kylee’s attitude and behavior a lot lately. I finally found a technique that is yielding significant results. She isn’t acting like Veruca from Willy Wonka anymore and we are really enjoying each other. Whereas before most of our time together was spent reprogramming what she saw, heard and did at her dad’s and reinforcing the reality that Not thirty-five and rules will be followed and enforced.
Unfortunately The X Man and I still can’t see eye to eye on whether or not to allow our thirty FIVE year to wear mascara. My stance has been clearly expressed to him, Kylee and to Hannah Montana. In his efforts to validate himself and his role as her father, he decided to buy Kylee her very own tube of mascara.  (Pause for applause) When Kylee told me that Hannah Montana and daddy said mascara isn’t bad for her eyes a blanket of emotions covered me. Not only are they both undermining me, they are gambling with my daughter’s well being for the sake of their own selfish desire for control. Kylee didn’t just fall off the turnip truck so she asked the very obvious question, “How come you say mascara is bad for me but daddy and Hannah say its okay?” After months of protecting her from the truth of her daddy, I decided honesty would be the best approach to her intriguing question. I told her that mascara is for adults, not kids. That she got pink eye from it before, that it could cause her eye lashes to prematurely fall out, that she might develop eye allergies, and all in all, YOU’RE FIVE! Let’s hope Kylee is mature enough to make good decisions about her health because her father can’t be burdened with that responsibility.  Obviously.
I wish I didn’t have so much X Man material to vent about. We get two blogs in without mentioning the stupidity and idiocy then BAM! Although Dude and his child’s mother have a good relationship so comparing the two would be futile. But as the “girlfriend” I would never want to cross any lines with his child’s mother. Maybe that comes from the mutual respect as a mother. Maybe it’s because I’m not 19. Whatever the reason, Hannah Montana has just officially earned a place on The List. At least The X Man’s first girlfriend had the desire to respect me and have a civil relationship with me. I feel double whammied. Not only do I have to endure disrespect from him, but from his concubine now as well? No thank you.
Since The X Man apparently makes parenting choices opposite of what he knows I desire, I might keep it to myself that I don’t particularly want Kylee to have a stripper pole in her room….

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Trick or Treat???

Some women wait all year for this day. For their time to shine, stand out, be seen, all eyes on her, all the preparation comes down to this one day. Their wedding day.  Halloween.  It’s their once a year opportunity to be a (insert adjective) and not be judged for it.  It puts a whole new meaning on words TRICK or TREAT. Trick actually means trick and treat no longer refers to mini snickers and Twix.
Dude and I were invited to a costume party and the theme is Movie/TV. Tons of ideas poured in when I took a poll on Facebook. So I began to Google some of the suggestions. I found myself quickly exiting out of my screen in fear that my boss would think I was looking up porn!  I was quickly discouraged that all the PG-13 costumes had been sold discontinued.
Why do women even claim to be dressing up as anything else other than a prostitute off of Harry Hines Blvd? Clearly their goal is to wear as little as possible, show as much as possible and somehow get the message across that they received the memo that it was a COSTUME party, not a sex party!
Now I ask you fellow bloggers to help me decide which “costume” to wear that won’t give my mother a heart attack or shame my role as a youth leader in church. I’m thinking the “sexy” Mr. Potato Head… I’m not kidding. The polls are open, your vote counts!
Disclaimer: (kidding, I would never wear any of the following costumes)

Boobs sold seperately


Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Top 5 Worst Birthday Presents for Kids

Obviously having children changes your life, pretty much forever. From the way you eat to the way you sleep. Your weekends go from sleeping in until your body physically cannot sleep anymore, to getting up before the sun rises just to watch repeat episodes of The Backyardagains and Team Umizoomi. Your weekends almost immediately become consumed with birthday parties. Non-stop.Birth.Day.Parties.
In the mommy society there are few ground rules which we all know about, yet none of us speak about.

1.       If I come to your kid’s party, you better come to mine
2.       Don’t RSVP if you don’t mean it
3.       Limit the amount of CRAP in the goodie bags
4.       Don’t make me get in a swimsuit…Seriously
5.       Don’t have a party during peak naptime hours

Pretty simple rules.

Of course with the hectic-ness that accompanies the title of being a mom, these commandments cannot always be accommodated. Scheduling conflicts, multiple parties to attend, sports and LIFE in general can be a booger!

We typically try to attend as many parties as possible. I would estimate that we spend roughly $35-60 per month on presents. More often than not, I am friends with the mother of the birthday boy/girl. I mean like an actual real life friend, not just a Facebook acquaintance. I take that into consideration when picking out the gifts. My kid’s birthdays this year were both successful.  They had fun and got a lot of great presents. I’m so  thankful (that reminds me I gotta get thank you notes) for all of our friends and family who spent their time and money on my kids. However there are certain gifts that add more stress and headaches to my life than necessary. I would like to go on Blog record, that if you have ever bought the following gifts for other kids, I assure you their mom is secretly plotting their revenge on you at this very moment.

1.       Puzzles – Sure, we love for our kids to do puzzles! We love when our kid has that desire to find match and put things together. We think it makes them smarter and when they complete on we are ready to glaze it and frame it and send them off to Baby Genius Academy. But the truth is we like them to do puzzles at daycare, or school, or grandmas. Not at home. They take up the entire dining room table; they only want your when you are trying to cook dinner or after you already started on a box of wine and couldn’t match a pair of socks, let alone a friggin puzzle!
2.       Sidewalk Chalk – Yes! Just what every mother needs! An activity that requires a bath immediately afterwards. It gets everywhere. Hands, face, clothes, shoes, everywhere! Not to mention that participation requires we get on the ground and typically getting back up isn’t as easy as it used to be in the BC years. (Before Children)
3.       Jewelry Makers – Ahhh the gift that keeps on giving. I assure you no matter how prepared you are for this craft; you will find beads, balls and glitter all over your house for the next 2 years. Beads in the couch cushions glitter in the carpet, balls in your vacuum. My daughter got a Jewelry maker this year for her birthday and I have decided that the mother giver of this gift must have been plotting her sweet vengeance on me since high school. That is the only explanation. Shout out Malori! This particular jewelry maker has about 20 individual little bags of itsy bitsy balls, that you add water to and 4-6 hours later they expand to big balls which are ooey, and gooey and hard to handle. During the 4-6 hour wait period, Kylee asked me about 273 times, are they ready yet? Are they ready yet? Are they ready yet? ARE THEY READY YET, MALORI?! Note to mothers: if any gift requires a wait period of 4-6 hours, move on to the Barbie aisle.
4.       Play-doh – The same premise of the puzzles. I don’t mind that my child play with Play-doh, as long as it is not at my house. It always ends up on the floor and stuck in my carpet. Why do mothers do this to their fellow mothers? It’s just cruel.
5.       Paint – I think you are getting the idea….

I’m starting to understand why that one mom (who shall remain nameless here) registered for her kid’s birthday gifts.

Thank you notes are coming soon!

Friday, October 21, 2011

If it feels good, it's probably wrong

A great night with my kids quickly went sour with one phone call from the X Man. Again, I was baited into thinking he could possibly understand anything that I say. I was shocked by the amount of stupid thoughts that escaped his filthy mouth. I realized just how human I am because the overwhelming desire to insult, dig and cut into his oversized ego overpowered me. I wanted to shine light into his dark and ugly world by jabbing at his inabilities to grow up, be a father and a man. I wanted him to know how people really see him, how I see him and how one day, his kids will see him.

That was 8 minutes of my life I will never get back.
 As I took a few moments to compose my sin nature, God revealed to me something that was Post-It worthy. My kind of light is not His kind of light. Who’d – A - Thunk – It? Actually it’s pretty obvious.  As a Christian, it’s not my job to expose him; it’s my job to expose Him. I do so thru my actions, words, response to attacks, thru life in general. Not by pointing out The X Man’s faults and mistakes. And I have failed Him, yet again. As good as publishing his ass-holiness make me feel, being a Christian doesn’t always FEEL good nor does it include the word ass-holiness. Can I get an AMEN? A Hallelujah?
I am always in Damage Control mode with Kylee. Constantly correcting the lies she is told. Mommy doesn’t want me to see you. Mommy doesn’t love me. Mommy doesn’t like Hannah Montana. I am relentlessly reassuring her that Mommy does want her to have time with him, that Mommy does love him (ick) just in a different way and that Mommy does like Hannah Montana (as long as she stops putting mascara on my child). My energy is exerted towards righting his wrongs that when it comes to responding and not reacting to him, well let’s just say I have some work to do.
About a month ago I borrowed a few vows from a fellow blogger’s post in reference to the X Man. This is my attempt to try again at keeping these vows. This blog is to hold me accountable to myself. It is worth reminding, reposting, repeating, retrying for.
I will not let him bait me.
I will not take a cheap shot, even when one is taken at me.
I will not accuse (I will only inquire).
I will not taunt.
I will not discuss his marriage relationship (unless it affects the health, safety, or emotional welfare of our children). (This does not apply to me YET)
I will not engage in text or email wars with him anymore.
I will not call him names.
I will not question his parenting (unless, again, it affects the health, safety, or emotional welfare of our children).
I will not let him take his anger about his self-made situation out on me.
I will not question him about the barbs and complaints and criticisms of me that he makes to the children (and which they relay to me).  I will discuss those with the kids, but not with him.
I will not let him bait me. (Yeah, that’s twice on that one.  But it’s a weak spot of mine so worth repeating.)
I don’t want to be a person whose actions and choices are dictated by someone. Especially someone who is morally bankrupt and has integrity the size of a pomegranate… Ooops there I go again. Ok I never said I wouldn’t stumble along the way.
But really, what does it say about ME that I allow someone I think so poorly of determine and control MY overall attitude? It says I suck, that’s what!
So here’s to trying again. Here’s to renewed hope, a new perception, new expectations and a new outlook on my situation.
Thank You God for always revealing to me new ways to see You. I will seek your presence in every situation, every conversation, every circumstance, and I will respond according to Your command, not my own.
If it feels good, it’s probably wrong. Good life motto.
Happy Weekend everyone!

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

The Tea Party

Kylee turned FIVE this past weekend. I always tease her and beg her not to get older. She reassures me that she will always be my baby. But alas, she is now five and continues to grow. Deep breaths…
Her princess party was a hit. She just loved being the center of attention. Big surprise there!  It warmed my heart how thankful she was for her party. She kept randomly coming up to me saying Thank You for my party mama. Even days after the party, she is still thanking me for it.
She got a for real tea set at her princess party. It’s legit. Made from real breakable glass, itsy bitsy little plates, cups, tea pots, etc. She has been chopping at the bit to have a tea party with me. So last night, after I tucked Logan into bed, she and I had our tea party in the living room. It was a very special moment for both of us. We had small talk, she filled my cup with tea, we snacked on crumpets…Ok so it was lucky charms and juice. But it was special. I watched Kylee’s eyes focus on her little pot as she carefully refilled our cups over and over.  She said to me, “mommy, you’re the best mommy and I always want to have tea parties with you.” My thoughts exactly Kylee.
It reminded me when I was younger and I thought I wanted to be a teacher every day. Life changes our dreams, our goals, our happiness and our imagination. As Kylee continues to get older, she might not always want to have actual tea parties with me. But it is my hope that whatever her happiness becomes  as she gets older, that she will always want me as a guest at her tea party.
I remember when I gave birth to her and held her for the first time. It was as if her body was a personalized puzzle piece that fit mine exactly. Her body cradled perfectly in my nook and I got lost in love just staring at her. It was hard then to picture the day she would walk, talk and become who she is today. For her first year of life she depended on me for food, now she runs to the pantry for a fruit snack. She is so independent. She is a nonstop chatter box with a lot to say and plenty on her mind. She is a spirited ball of energy with no desire to slow down. She knows what she is thinking and she needs to be heard and understood. She is a leader, a friend, a sister, a daughter and a cousin. She is the first born sibling and cousin on both sides so naturally she has the IM THE BOSS syndrome. She has a passion for justice and will stand up for herself if she feels wronged. She is a perfectionist, determined, passionate, protective, thoughtful and sassy.
Even though she doesn’t fit as perfectly snug in my arms as once did, she fits in my arms in a new way. She challenges me and pushes me to be a better woman and mother. She makes me who I am. She keeps me encouraged. Because of her I grow and learn more every day. I am better, because of her.
Because of her, I am me. Thank you Kylee and Happy Birthday! I love you!
    NOT five years old

    Five years old

Friday, October 14, 2011

WARNING! This blog contains emotion. Reader’s discretion is advised....

I should have been more careful when picking my ex-husband.  I should have seen the signs and warnings when we first began dating. I chalked it up to his age and assumed at some point he would outgrow his primitive nature and evolve into an adult. That was 2002.
The after math of this marriage is exhausting, daunting, frustrating, irritating, upsetting, disappointing and all in all, sucky! Our children are now considered tools of leverage and he uses them as such. Their feelings and emotions no longer play a part of his decision making process. (Assuming there is a process) He drags our daughter to the gym to train for something he was always less than mediocre in and calls it “spending time with her.” He purposely interferes with plans, he stirs things up for entertainment purposes, and he ignores suggestions directly related to their health, and overall makes his daily goal to inconvenience me at any cost.
After ignoring mine and the pediatrician’s recommendations to not allow our FIVE year old to wear mascara, I was shocked to see she had it on again. (I wasn’t really shocked, it was totally predictable)  My child said his girlfriend did it because she said it isn’t bad for her eyes. Of course the NINETEEN 18 year old girlfriend would know what is and isn’t healthy for a 5 year old, correct? Of course!!!! (Sarcasm) At this point, since this child (I am speaking of the new girlfriend, not Kylee) is insisting on decorating my child’s face with the best of Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen’s makeup line, I decided to message both the children (The X Man and Hannah Montana) Here is what I wrote to her:
             Hi. I am Kylee and Logan’s mom. Last week, I asked **** not allow Kylee to wear mascara anymore. She got pink eye not too long ago and the doctor highly suggested no more mascara. She had it on again this morning. Just in case **** forgot to tell you, please do not put that on her anymore. I appreciate it.

Her response: Nothing. She blocked me.

What I sent to the X Man:

Xxxx, as I requested last week please do not allow Kylee to wear mascara. I saw that she had it on this morning when I checked them in. That request is not to fight with you or be petty but it is due largely in part of the recommendation of her pediatrician to help her prevent getting pink eye again. I also sent a request to XXXXX as well, thanks for your help in this matter.
His response:

                just want you to know that i think its pathetic you feel the NEED to email and interfere in my relationships. get a life
There is a breakdown in communication, obviously. My email was in reference to our child; his response was in reference to his relationship. Enter my frustration.
I have deduced that The X Man has reached his true potential. His call center employment, his side gigs at the strip club, his pedophile – ish relationships, his skewed vision of parenting, his non-existent maturity and his complete lack of respect for others. I’ve heard stories similar to mine where 5 years later things are repaired, it gets better. I have put that microscopic piece of hope on the shelf for now. I have lowered my expectations and have put nothing past him.
He did not show up to our court date earlier this week. So when the consequences occur for that choice, I am certain he will somehow find me at fault.
He plants his own seeds of anger and bitterness. He waters his selfish pride. His harvest will come.
Thank you for letting me vent and release my frustrations here. It was either here or Facebook. I decided to take the high road and blog.
Have a great weekend everyone and watch out for potential ex husbands! They’re everywhere!