DaBaby just ate soap. Oh yes, she did eat some peachy-smelling home made goat’s milk soap. Unless it was the avocado based soap. Should I be glad that it was natural ingredient based, or horrified that it contained all that chemically smell goodness?
So! We had dental appointments today. For logistical reasons, we go four at a time, which is normally against the rules, but they worked with me. While I was driving us there, Spidey piped up and asked “why are we going up?” I answered him with “Because that’s the way the cookie crumbles, that’s the way the road goes.” And from way in the back, Stuntman exclaims, “that’s the way the french fries are eaten”. Yep, we have a new family standard.
My first born son has kept me either giggling or tearing my hair out since he was born. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that boys are not different from girls. They are. From needing cute little baby boy clothes in 48 shades of blue, instead of frilly pink lace, to their jokes as they grow up, they are different.
I remember distinctly the first time Stuntman made the car noise. He was about six months old, and no one had taught him to make that sound, and all of a sudden, there it was, hanging in the air, almost visible……vroooooom. And bugs, oh my, yes, they do love bugs, and frogs, and assorted slimy creatures. And also flying, with or without the Superman cape, but especially when wearing only underwear.
It was my son who taught me again that playing in the rain could be fun. He was the first one to ever ask “why” when I said, “come in, it’s raining.” And it was his logical “but we get wet when we take a bath” that made me change my mind and let them all play outside anyway.
Different isn’t bad, though it can be a little scary. In fact, I realized I had crossed over to a mother of sons the first time I put my hands in my pockets and drew out marbles and hot wheels instead of hair bows. I knew it was going to be okay, the first time I made one giggle by driving that car on his arm.
is non existent. I have struggled to accept that, but some days, I just do better than others with this concept. This morning, I sat down at MY desk to discover that MY pencils were missing and someone had put a pen that doesn’t work properly in MY pen holder. I detest a poorly performing pen. I have a carefully selected assortment in my holder, and those are the ones I want, the only ones I want, and you better leave them alone. I once went so far as to buy pens emblazoned with “MOM”, but they were horrible, skippy pens and quickly ended up in the garbage, though not before being “borrowed”.
Perhaps it is time to investigate higher quality personalized pens in my continuing quest for writing perfection. I could maybe get ones with built in sirens that sounded an alarm when touched by fingers not attached to my own hand. Do you think that would work?
Do your kids guilt you to death? One of mine is a champ at the guilt complex. She just knows exactly the buttons to push. See, I had scheduled a hair appointment for Saturday the 8th, so I missed part of her game. And then, all the kids wanted the church to have something going on around Halloween, so I stepped up to the plate to organize that, and after that, I got the kids signed up for the football and cheerleading, and her first competition is that weekend, and she. will. not. let. up. on. that.
And don’t even ask how she’s taking this Vegas trip. She accused me of using that to miss her regional competition (for which they aren’t even qualified yet, mind you) and it’s not even the same weekend. Of course, maybe if I dialed up the Excalibur Las Vegas they could fit me in. Even though I have already turned in the form that says if the team makes the cut, we’ll go to regionals. Even thought they are the day after Thanksgiving. And yes, she saw me turn in that form. What. Ev. Er.
Scouting has been replaced by football. Okay, just kidding. In truth, I told the girls’ leader that they would be back in November, when the season ends. Unless they go to Regionals, in which case, the season will just be starting good.
As for the boys, we have a bigger problem. The guy who said he would be the Den Master is …. not. Not answering phone calls, not returning emails, not organizing meetings, not, not, not. We have a parents meeting next week with the district director to see what we can get going. There is no way I can be the Den Master. I’ve already taken on the position of awards coordinator, and I was supposed to have a helper with that. She’s also…. not.
I have not told he boys all this, of course, but they have asked about scouts. They are looking forward to the camping, the meetings, the tiny little body shop supplies for the Pine Wood Derby cars. And frankly, so am I.
You know, sometimes I am so proud of my children. In a couple weeks, on te 13 of October, I’m going to be participating in The Alzheimer’s Association Memory Walk. In fact, I am organizing the event for my little town. And the reason I am so proud of my kids is that most of them are jumping in behind me with both feet, ready to do whatever they can. I love that!
Hey, let me ask for your help, too! Could I get you to click this banner, and donate a little but for Alzheimer’s research?
Thanks!
As for me, I’ll probably fill up a good chunk of my new 1GB SD card that day. And, yes! Of course, I’ll share!
How in the world do you all keep your kids entertained when they absolutely cannot go outside? The heat index has been up over 100 all week, and we have been inside. For 4 days now. They are grumpy. They are spiteful. They are not. happy. people. And frankly, I’m not feeling like Little Miss Happy Pants myself.
I am so mad! You know what a blogger does when they get mad, right? Yeah, so I’m doing it. I have just thrown away the third of 6 bottles I bought DaBaby less than a month ago. These are “Soothie” brand put out by The First Years. The bottles are cracking at the base, and then they leak. Every where. Now you know.
Technorati Tags: bottles, The First Years
So! I did what I said I was going to do. I went shopping for myself last night. I took Diva and Country with me, and they were a very big help. Those of you playing along with the scavenger hunt have already seen the clothes on CassKnits and the shoes on DigiCass. Now you can see the stack of “bingo clothes” that are headed out the door. There’s a equally large, if not larger, stack of stuff that’s designated as home wear only.
And here’s the meager pile of stuff the little clothes police declared fit to wear anywhere.
I have one more picture to share which I will do on Midlife Musings. It’s a special one just for Bob, who left me an incredibly scalding comment on my post from last Saturday. It doesn’t really belong on this blog, and since he commented on the other one, too, I am going to place it where *I* want it to be.
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