persephone33

So I go to the door, since the neighbor kid is ringing it incessantly, and after I tell him that the boys are otherwise engaged, showering after being at the pool, and once is plenty to ring the bell, I see a situation on the front porch that I find bizarre. The cooler that we use fairly often, with a pillow on top of it.

( SERIOUSLY?! )

Like the girl I am, I shrieked.

And I put the pillow back.

And immediately went inside and called up to the boys.

Carrie. Why is there a FROG in my cooler?"

Ethan. Because I put him there.

Me. WHY did you put him there?

Ethan. (grins) He didn't have a cooler of his own. I was sharing.

Ha, bloody ha, blond kid. You're on my list. And you're letting that frog go free, I don't care if he has his own cooler or not.

He looks a little forlorn, if you ask me.

Rest assured, there will be a release of the frog, a scrubbing of the cooler with bleach and soap and anything else frog-repellent that I can think of, and a little chat reminding him that WE ALREADY HAVE TWO PETS in the form of 70 pound Labrador retrievers.

BOYS. HONESTLY! ICK.

Current Mood: horrified
Current Location: State of Denial
Current Music: Sreaming in my head...

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Which sounds like I've only been to Wal-Mart again, but this is not the case.

First, I must show you this. It is not for the faint of heart amongst you, FYI.

( Eeeek! )

Current Mood: tired
Current Location: Mom & Tom's house in Arlington

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I have two stories for you. The first informs the second.

( Story One )

( Story Two )
So. It turns out, AJ was doing the same thing, buying ice cream and slushes as often as he could. They're both grounded. Ethan's taking his lunch for the rest of the year. Is that a punishment for me, too? Yes, it is. No, I didn't actually say 'crapload' to the kid. And no, we aren't making him take a Strawberry Shortcake lunchbox. It was a close call, though.

That's all the news that's fit to report. Be back soon, though, I'm sure.

And for the cherry on the cake of my day, I've been up since four thirty, and Ethan, Aaron and I are off to the dentist.

Current Mood: tired
Current Location: out the door

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Eclipse has an MPAA rating of PG-13. I knew that going into this. But the boys have watched loads of PG-13 movies without incident. Off the top of my head - The Spider-Man Franchise, for one. And I am by no means a prude. But I was wholly unprepared for this. WHERE IS MY HANDBOOK?

Anywho, parenting is an adventure.

( Are you a virgin, Mommy? )

In less horrifying news, my dad is here, and we're have a cool, laid back time. Love to all and happy new year, if I don't see you before.

Current Mood: busy
Current Location: at the bar
Current Music: HPHBP on the X-box

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As the mother of two rambunctious little boys, I've become used to what I like to call "The Ick Factor" in my life. It's gone up by about a gazillion since Aaron was born, and even more so since they've developed their own personalities and spend so much time in the Out Of Doors*.

Now, I'm not talking about the mild stuff, like finding a plastic snake next to the milk in the refrigerator, left there, no doubt, to make me shriek. (It doesn't. It does make me laugh, though.) I'm talking about the stuff that makes me want to crawl into a fetal ball and rock after shivering and flailing with revolted abandon.

I spare you of some of this, friends. I don't tell you all of the awful truths.

You're welcome.

But this... this weekend's Ick involves a crustacean.

( Buckle up, buttercups. This one's kind of long. )

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Location: the settee
Current Music: Tom and Jerry

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Okay. I have an admission to make. I'm vain about my hair.

I've known that for some time. What I didn't realize was just how vain I am about my kids' hair.

Nolan took Ethan out running errands on Saturday. Evidently they went to the den of mediocrity that is Sports Clips, and long story (which includes a Dennis the Menace comparison, an absentee stylist and some exceedingly bad judgment) short, they both came home looking like someone used a weed whacker to cut their hair.

I normally take the boys to my hair girl, the brilliant and very kind Arviel at the salon 'Reds'. We missed their cut appointment a week and a half ago, and I guess Ethan had enough of hair in his eyes.

I'm glad school pictures aren't for another few months.

The topper, though? Last night about ten minutes before our dinner guests came over, Aaron CUT HIS BANGS AN INCH FROM HIS SCALP.

Seriously? SERIOUSLY???? HE'S EIGHT YEARS OLD! Rassafrassinfrassin kid.

I wanted to wring his cute little neck. I restrained myself, so no one call CPS. Luckily, Arviel is going to work us in tomorrow morning to try to repair the damage. Nothing can be done about the tragedy that is Ethan's hair.

Yeah. Vain.

From now on, we're ALL going to Arviel. Nolan included.

That's all.

Current Mood: irritated
Current Location: at the bar
Current Music: Harry Potter Lego

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So Aaron had an accident while we were in Arlington (I forget how, because honestly! Who can remember every bump and bruise these boys get?) that caused some trauma this morning.

( Mildly horrifying/cute kid story under the cut. :) )

******
He's cheeky. Wonder where he gets that?

A hundred bucks says I find that nasty thing while I'm sweeping next week. *sigh*

And Ethan finally got to spend part of the money his Papa Jim sent him for his birthday! So we went out and got the Harry Potter Lego video game. It's SO stinking cute. And clever! And maybe a bit scandalous... in CoS when Dobby the House Elf works his mojo on Lucius Malfoy, after Harry frees the elf with a sock, instead of the violent treatment of being thrown 20 feet, Lucius' lego trousers disappear, leaving him with hot pink briefs.

Oh, Lego game developers. You slay me, putting stuff in to entertain the moms, too. ;)

I'm off to the grocery store to load up on stuff for the fourth and our dinner party tonight, but I'll post the winners of June's contest and my exciting (yeah, probably only to me) idea for July's contest before I leave town again!

Current Location: the kitchen
Current Music: Harry Potter Lego

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Because I'm blessed and don't have an actual nine to five job that I go to everyday, I volunteer in the boys' elementary school library every Wednesday. The school librarian actually has two schools to split her time between, and there needs to be someone there to shelve books and sit at the circulation desk when she's not there. Usually it's only for an hour or two, and it's quiet and most of the children aren't ankle-biting mouth-breathers.

Today, though, I went in early and someone had left every single returned non-fiction book unshelved. There were like... a billion of them. And let me tell you, I can knock out the Easy section and the Fiction books without an issue. I can re-shelve biographies with the best of 'em. But for some reason, re-shelving the non-fiction books puts me right off. Plus, here's a note to whomever can't seem to put things in numerical/alphabetical order: "599.78 LOT" ALWAYS comes before "599.78 MON." And it always will. It takes me twice as long to shelve because I cannot leave these things undone.

I digress.

One of my favorite things is when one of the little munchkins comes in and asks for help finding a book. ( There's an horrific child story under the cut, wherein Carrie almost makes some little kid cry. )

In nothing related to the verbal abuse of children, I've watched the first season of Merlin and have a horribly embarrassing crush on Bradley James. I smile or giggle whenever he's onscreen. Seriously!

I have ISSUES.

Current Mood: busy
Current Location: the breakfast nook
Current Music: More Than She Knows - The Spin Doctors

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You think life is going along just fine.
Then you download the 100th Bones Episode, watch it, and the cycle of despair is started. You think Temperance Brennan is a FOOL.

You go and teach your class on Thursday afternoon, just like you always do. You meet your family at 575 Pizza and your nine year-old won't eat.

He won't eat? you ask yourself. The kid would gnaw on anything for a snack.

You split from your family, while they go home, you go to see a play about a boy who blinds six horses and is in therapy because of it. You are disturbed by this play. It causes you to feel a lot more than you normally do.

( You shouldn't read this if you've a weak stomach, or stories of children and grossness bothers you in any way. )

You can't help but think this is all Temperance Brennan's fault. If she'd done what any NORMAL woman would have done, and thrown Agent Booth down right there in front of the J. Edgar Hoover building and had her wicked way with him, all of this could have been avoided.

;)

Current Mood: tired
Current Location: running back and forth between the laundry and the kids
Current Music: The Penguins of Madagascar

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You know I have a penchant for telling cute kid stories.

Well, I think they're cute. Sometimes. Most times.

But they've sort of moved from cute to maddening in the past few months.

As you the reader may or may not know, my husband and I have a very playful relationship. He likes to lurk in corners and surprise me, or trick me into thinking something that's just patently not true. Because really. I'm gullible. I take people at their word.

I know. Shocking.

But in the past, I've tried to do the same to him with varying degrees of results. I need practice on subterfuge. It's not a strength I have. In any case, I digress.

( Pain in the rear kid & husband story under the cut )

Current Mood: drained
Current Location: in my pretty green office
Current Music: No music. Must fix.

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Freaking disgusting.

There are just certain things that you SHOULD NOT have to say. Like:

"Don't lick your shoe."

"Please don't try to scale the walls. Spiderman is pretend, and you're leaving shoe marks on the paint."

" You cannot eat brown sugar from the bag for a snack."

"No, you can't go out in the snow in just your underwear and boots. You'll have to wear clothes."

But today was the kicker. Aaron was playing Green Lantern, which, you know, I'm all for. He asked to borrow my High School Class ring, which has a green stone in it. I said, "Not right now."

THEN, he got quiet for a few minutes, which is NEVER a good sign, and I found him standing in front of my jewelry armoire, looking at my orbis ring. Which is a really pretty ring, with different colored interchangeable orbs you can put in, to match your outfit or whatever.

He panicked when he looked at me and began making noises like he was blowing his nose. HOWEVER, there was no kleenex in sight.

Ew. Ew, ew, ew, ewwwwwwww.

Long story short, he had shoved one of those little orbs up his nose.

No, we will not be making a trip to the emergency room, but I'm going to have to sanitize the velvet lining of the jewelry box, and take a bunch of my earrings in to have the snot removed from them.

*sigh*

Now I'll have to add, "Don't shove Mommy's jewelry up your nose, please," to my list.

Current Mood: disgusted
Current Music: Firefly on DVD

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Okay, seriously.

It's a Horrifying Parent Story.

Parenting: The stories just keep on getting better.

Conversations With an Eight Year-Old

Oh, HELL no.

Much Ado about HAIR

My kids are sick and twisted. Wonder where they get that?

You get what you pay for, don't you?

Just when you think it's safe to leave town....

Gullible. Me?

Sometimes, being a mother is...

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