Of course there were some near misses, the first of which happened on “Meet Your Locker” night which very nearly gave me a heart attack.

Let me preface all this by saying we have never had a child in Junior High so I wasn’t sure what to expect.    Also, I’d like to add that back in the Dark Ages when I went to school, a locker was just that, a locker.   Apparently in the brave new world a locker is no longer a utilitarian device meant solely for holding books.   No, now it is more of a fashion statement.

I couldn’t be there that night so The Man was in charge of “introducing” Mr. C to his locker.    About an hour after it started, I texted him to see how it was going, I mean really…how long can it take?    It was then that I realized I had totally discounted how important this locker thing really is:

“We are going to be here FOREVER waiting for the locker above his to get decorated.”

WHOA…. Decorated?   I frantically texted back asking for details on what we had missed.    I asked if Mr. C thought we were the worst parents in the history of the world for not knowing this important fact.   I was finally reassured that we hadn’t missed out on much, we just needed to add a few sports stickers, shelves, a white board and  a pencil holder…and that this incident would not be one of the many he will undoubtedly share with his psychiatrist years from now.

It turns out the boys lockers aren’t that big of a deal.     It’s the girls lockers that are causing me to break out in hives.    Don’t believe me?   Take a look at this:

Thank God I’m only dealing with a boy this year because I am not crafty enough to come up with anything remotely that cute. That blue stuff on the bottom?    Is shag carpet….I kid you not.    There are even rumors circulating about a locker that not only has pink shag carpet but a chandelier as well.     Totally serious.

So for next year, I’ll know that prior to school I need to get some very basic things for Mr. C’s locker which will allow him to be organized and able to access everything he needs.    And I’ll also be spying on all the girls locker themes knowing that in a mere three years, I’ll be the one shopping for shag carpet and chandeliers.    

::sigh::

This post was sponsored by the good people at Target!

I’m not going to say how old I am, mainly because it makes me cry to do so, but I will tell you I am at an age where things start to come out of my mouth that I just have no idea where they came from.   More on this fun fact in a bit.

Let’s first talk about how spoiled I am.

On Saturday, Chef Man cooked this up for me:

I know it’s sort of fuzzy, I took it with my iPhone.   At my advanced age, walking to get the camera is no longer an option if you can avoid it.   Plus, walking would have allowed me to burn off at least 2 of the 2,000 calories that I took in at dinner….what’s the point?    Regardless, dinner was delish and The Man even did all the dishes.

But wait!  It gets better!    I was  also spoiled rotten with gifts this year thanks to that handy dandy contract job he’s been working on.  First of all, The Man gave me Miss G an iPad.

And then, because I totally cannot stand the book feature on the iPad, The Man also got me Mr. C a Kindle….

Why on earth would any woman need two such fancy electronic devices?   Because I have two children and if they had to fight over one fancy electronic devise, it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, that’s why.

Moving on…

So remember a few paragraphs of drivel ago I mentioned to you that I am at an age where things come out of my mouth that I just have no idea where they came from?     Yeah, about that.    My sweet friend Lauren took me for a pedicure Sunday morning.    Getting a pedicure might be one of my most favorite activities because it involves zero effort on my part, I get to catch up with friend and when it’s all done my toes are well, lovely.    Which is the exact word I used after asking the barely English speaking girl who had worked on my feet what her name was.    Confusing right?  Here’s a brief recap:

TSM:    That was such a nice pedicure!  What’s your name so I can ask for you when I come back?
Her:  Nina.
TSM:  Nina?
Nina:  Yes.
TSM:  Well thank you Nina, lovely!
Nina:   ::very confused look on her face while scurrying away::
TSM:  ::also trying to figure out how situation turned awkward so quickly::
Nina: “Love you too!”

Wait. What just happened here?

TSM:  ::sits up with sudden realization of what just happened:: 

“Oh. My. God.    Nina thinks I just told her I love her!!!!!”

See?  I have never in my life used the word lovely before when talking about my toes or a name or anything else for that matter… and yet here it was, in all it’s glory.   I’d used an old person word and now this very small, sweet Asian woman was now hiding in the back afraid of coming out again and having me declare my love for her again.

So there you have it, for my birthday I was totally spoiled with wine, food and electronics….and apparently also managed to come out of the closet to the girl who did my toes.

Who said getting old was boring?

************************

Coach David.  My Name is Tom Tulcote  (Devin’s Father) and I never thought I would ever be sending a message like this to a coach.  I have coached Devin’s soccer teams for the last 4 years and have been very excited to get him in tackle football.   Every day over the past two years after school I have had him go to the school track and run 4 laps before walking home.    He is the fastest runner on your team.    I have watched several practices including last night and I can no longer bite my tongue over what I am seeing out there.  The only kids I see you coaching out there is your own and the other coaches out there seem to be coaching the rest of them.  Not once did you walk away from your own son to see what the other kids at the other stations were doing.  You have my son playing Tackle(really).  He can run faster than anyone out there including Seth who is not even old enough to be on the team. Devin practiced hard yesterday and like always was on time.  Seth  didn’t even get there till scrimmage time and you pulled Devin out to let Seth  go in.  Devin  EARNED the right to get to play last night  and you made him sit out twice.  He wants JUST A CHANCE to get to work in the backfield but you seem to have already filed those spots and there back ups.  You had the smallest two kids on our team playing guards during scrimmage and were facing kids on the other team twice their size.   That is why we were getting creamed at the line of scrimmage.  On one play one of them got the crap knocked out of him but you didn’t see it because you were as usual coaching your own son. You didn’t even try to help them when they were getting creamed by the defensive line, but your son and a couple of the others that you blatantly seem to only have time for where getting plenty of advice.  You told the kids to be ready to jump in at any position but you are only giving your favorites the chance to show what they can do.  I hoped all the kids would get a chance at all positions but that has not AT ALL been the case.  This has become the David and Carson Vander  show instead of  the Falcons 8 year olds.  If your son and UNDERAGED Seth (how did he even get on the team?  He is only 7) are getting better, It’s because they are the only ones getting a chance and getting some instructions.

I have never seen any dad show favor to their own son as much as I have seen you do.   You have not even shared the plays to any of the kids other than your favorites.  How are they going to learn or get a chance?   If you want to discuss this with me, I can be reached @ 555-363-8000 anytime.  If not I will forward this to the Commissioner  in hopes that  he will listen.

Tom Tulcote

*********************************

Okay, so you get the picture right?   This guy is full of THE CRAZY.   The team is  three practices in…”David” is still trying to figure out the team and they haven’t played a single game yet.    It drove me crazy because “David”  is one of my very favorite people and is amazing with kids.    He’s like a gentle giant,  encouraging and amazingly wonderful with kids.   Having known him for 15 years, there is no way he is discriminating against anyone’s kids…let alone in favor of his own.

Also, this business of “my kid is the BEST so deal with it”  makes me nuts.   It’s  a team sport, learn to take turns and give everyone a chance to grow.  It sure as hell isn’t the Superbowl just yet.

After taking a stab at writing something serious which he could actually use, I decided that we needed to inject some humor into this situation STAT.       For your reading pleasure (and also with paragraphs and punctuation!):

*********************************

Tom;

Thank you for your email which has caused me to go blind from your apparent inability to separate sentences into paragraphs.    Additionally, I’d like to compliment you on your spelling (it’s “filled” not “filed”,  etc etc) AS WELL AS YOUR OVER USE OF THE CAPS LOCK KEY.

I am so glad that someone has finally seen through my evil plan to achieve world domination by coaching small boys in football.    I choose to work only with the smallest  as well as my son because they are the ones who I can scare the most and fear is an important part of building an army of short, heavily padded minions to do my bidding.   The fact that your son Devin can run faster than ANYONE only means one thing….I have to run faster than I care to in order to hunt him down, force him supplicate himself and surrender to the David and Carson Vander show.  Quite frankly Tom,  I’m too busy staring in the mirror at my own glorious reflection or extolling the virtues of my obviously perfect son to undertake such an endeavor.

My best advice to you is to come over here and kiss my ass, given my height vs. yours, I doubt you’d even have to bend over.

Best,

David

******************************************************

Sadly, I think he sent a far more politically correct version in response.  But tell me, do you think I got the point across?

I’m not.

Maybe you think I’ll tell you that in the silence of my house, I felt raw and stinging emotions at the thought that my children are growing up far too fast.

Nope.

If I were to add on to this that The Man has a contract job for the next several weeks and will also be out of the house, you might think that I’d share with you how much I would miss seeing him during the day and how his very presence gives me comfort.

HA!

I’m sorry but if you thought that you should just stop reading my blog right now because  obviously you don’t know me at all.   The only thing I was thinking yesterday morning was  “Hell to the yes….ALONE AT LAST!!!!”

I thought getting back into the routine would be tough when the alarm went off at 6:00 am.    Instead, I sprung to my feet, shook The Man a little (okay…a lot) and reminded him he needed to get up and get the hell out.

The children received a similar treatment.  Rather than waking them with a gentle kiss and a pat on the head, I stirred them to life  by turning the lights on suddenly and reminding them that they needed to eat breakfast, brush their teeth, and get dressed all within :30 minutes so they could also  get the hell out.

Both went off safely on the bus.    Miss G in her sassy new outfit, clinging to me until she saw her friends at which point I was promptly and uncerimoniously dumped.     And then there was  Mr. C who waved good-bye at the front door because I am no longer allowed anywhere near the bus…or his friends.

::sigh::

Around 9:30 The Man had not left yet and I began giving him the side eye.    At 9:45, I resorted to growling.   Somewhere around 10:00, he took the hint and I managed to divest myself of him as well at which point the celebrations really began.

Did I sun myself out by the pool?   No.    Did I go for a martini lunch with girlfriends?   Uh uh.    What I did was so much  more exciting, you ready for it?

I turned all the TV’s off,  caught up from my staycation last week at work and….wait for it….DID LAUNDRY. Yes, my friends, I am just that exciting.    Nothing makes me happier than a fresh towel out of the dryer that I get to fold.    Some people would take a quick walk to the water cooler or chat with co-workers to break up the day.    Unless I want to have a conversation with a fat pug or an angsty cat, I don’t really have anyone to talk to on days when I don’t have appointments.   Instead, I get my jollies in the form of a warm towel that if folded JUST SO will appear uniform with all the other towels even if it’s a different size.

Don’t even try to compete, the awesome I dish out around here is beyond reproach.

The day was amazingly quiet and productive, and I’m seriously excited about the month ahead and the blissful peace that I will be enjoying while I work, not to mention my neatly folded towels.

Honestly, it takes so little to amuse me.

PS:  I realize this would have been a better post if I actually had first day pictures to share with you but I can’t find the little card thingy that goes in the camera.  I suspect it is buried somewhere in my neatly folded towels but I’m not going to disturb them, I’ll just let it be a little suprise when it falls out one morning.   Again…I am so easily amused.

I’m on “staycation” this week meaning I’ve taken most of the week off in order to “spend quality time” with my children.

Stop laughing.

Yesterdays outing involved going to a water park, getting burnt to a crisp, and forgetting to “hold my butt up” on one of the slides which left my backside as bruised and beat up looking as Tila Tequillas face after being mobbed by a fanatical group of  Juggalos.  For real.

That last sentence may or may not have sounded wrong…onward…

The fighting started almost immediately and continued the entire ride to the water park.    The really good news is they like totally separate rides so for the most part, we were able to keep Mr. C and Miss G far enough away from each other that the park authorities didn’t need to get involved.    And then there was this…

You call it a mushroom, I call it the “Cone of Silence” because it was the only time their arguing couldn’t be heard due to the splashing water.   I am seriously considering purchasing one of these for my home.

Today, we are off to The Science Place to allow our children to spread their particular type of uncontrolled mayhem in a place designed to be “fun and educational for the entire family”.    You say I’m going into this with the wrong attitude?    I say  I know this to be a fact based not only on previous performance but from the looks on their faces when they got up this morning.

Wish me luck.    And if you don’t hear from me for a while, chances are you’ll hear about it on the evening news eventually.

And then I spotted them.   The sassiest, trendiest, most unlike anything I would ever buy shoes.   Even better, they are BCBG’s which aren’t too pricey.   I stood in awe for about :30 seconds before Mr. C gave his most effective “Ahem!!!” and I had to rush off…but not before promising to return to them this weekend.

As promised, I returned this weekend to claim my shoes….and now?   Well, I’m not so sure we are “sole mates” if you know what I mean.     Here, take a look:

The family can’t seem to agree on them.   The minute I took them out of the box, The Man proclaimed them “clunky” and when I explained to him that was the trend this season, he was all, “Never thought I’d see the day when the Gene Simmons look from his KISS days was trendy…”.  

Pfft.

I immediately went for re-inforcements and teetered back to my bedroom where Miss G was watching TV.      I solicited her opinion and she immediately declared them “the most beautiful shoes she has ever seen…“.   Which was great, right up until I remembered a few minutes later that it was only last year she still wanted more than anything to dress like a Bratz doll and change her name to Chloe.    I started to ask Mr. C but received a stern warning look from him as I approached, he is just not going to have a shoe conversation with me at this point (or any other) in his life.

So here I am, left to decide.    Sometimes I find making a list is the best way to solve the dilemna:

Positives:

• They are reasonably priced.
• Believe it or not, they are actually comfortable.
• I am as tall as my husband when I wear them (a very big plus for shorties like me).
• They look great with skinny jeans.
• Speaking of tall and skinny, the additional six inches really takes a few pounds off visually!   Woot woot for the tall girls!

Negatives:

• They are really tall and if I fall off them, which honestly is guaranteed, an orthopedic surgeon may be involved.
• I’m not sure I’m going to be able to shake the mental image of this:

I’m completely and utterly torn and if I’m going to return them, I need to do so within the next few days so I’m leaving it up to you…..weigh in and let me know your thoughts.  Love ‘Em?   Or Leave ‘Em?

I do enjoy these lazy days of summer…except the only people  it isn’t lazy for are me and The Man.  I’m still working, albeit from my home office, but still…I am responsible for financially supporting our family.   The Man  has to put up with them and keep them out of my hair and attempt to keep them from killing each other directly outside my office door.    Neither of us have an easy job.

It hasn’t been too hard really.   They have friends.   We pawn them off in an elaborate ponzi trading scheme when I need them to be gone or if I’m traveling (as I am now) and The Man just needs a tiny sanity break.     (Side note:  I stayed home for four years, I know the value of a sanity break, I really, really do…).

However.

HOWEVER.

There is my daughter, the fabulous Miss G who this year has discovered the fine art of “Injury = ATTENTION“.

For your viewing pleasure, here is the top ten list of injuries she has suffered this summer that have caused her to scream and writhe in pain to make sure her brother is not getting undo attention:

#10:     While flipping over the sofa, she has created a soft tissue injury that only an Ace Bandage worn for a week along with a limp can cure.

#9:    While playing in my expensive (read nice samples I got for buying my night moisturizer) makeup, she has managed to get blush in her mouth…which incidentally, tastes YUCKY.   And also cannot be cured by toothpaste.    Only Sunny D or a another sugary drink will do.  Preferably before bedtime.

#8:   The thought of wetting down the slide in the back yard whilst sliding down backwards AND STANDING in an innertube turned out not to be such a good idea after all.

#7:   Her brother has pushed her in the shallow end of the pool, causing her not only to get water in her nose but to DROWN in the process.   Incidentally, he should suffer criminal consequences of the highest sort…even though she dared him.

#6:   Speaking of the pool, while playing any type of water sport, should the ball hit her anywhere near the facial region, this should be considered a felony offence that was deliberate and should be considered for criminal prosecution.

#5:    Toe stubbing…need I say more?

#4:   Any type of cleaning can lead to egregioius consequences.   Windex on your hands can and will require mulitiple washings to remove hazardous chemical residue.

#3:   Wearing shoes that don’t fit IS an option.   However it is not a good option if you are walking through a mall to a movie when your feet start to hurt.  At that point, it is within reason that demands that your Daddy walk you back to the car in approximately 175 degree heat must be tolerated…or there will be hell to pay.

#2:    Ouchy swimuits are a no-go.     Should that strap cut into your precious skin?    You don’t want to loosen it up a bit, you need to just burn it because it no longer has a place in this home…or on this princess.   That suit will never see the light of day again.

And the number one injury so far this summer:

….watching TV while eating Doritos is not a good idea because sometimes you become so engrossed you forget where your mouth is and insert the chip directly into YOUR EYE which leaves not only immense pain but cheesy, nacho vision for approximately 36 hours…or until you crave chips again.

So yeah, I’m ready for them to go back….but I do have to tell you, as much work as she can be, I’m going to miss this sweet, freckled face….

Miss G?  You are a little pistol and my Mom’s words came true…she used to say, “I hope you get one just like you!”.

Guess what Mom?   I did, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I love you little G….you make me smile every day, and no matter how annoyed I get sometimes, please always know at the end of the day you make me smile.    ALWAYS.

So tell me dear readers…what did your adorable children do this summer to make you laugh, cringe, long for the beginning of school or wish that it would never come?

See, I was supposed to be there and while I’m not important enough to get into the cool parties,  but Alli is and she usually drags me along with her wherever she goes.   And there she was in her cute little green dress grinning at me from my TV set.

UGH.

That’s when Backpacking Dad saved the day for me by starting the #HomeHer10 twitter hashtag conference for those of us stuck at home watching all the tweets coming out of NYC at BlogHer.   Because I’m too lazy to write anything myself these days, I thought I’d share a few of the better tweets showcasing the elegance and sophistication that #HomeHer10 is:

“Can someone speak to housekeeping for me? I don’t think my room is ready.”    @Nikki_S

“Lunch sponsored by Ragu.”   @foldinglaundry

“I’m boring my attendee.”  @ajk124

“Party is already out of control at #HomeHer10, the Coffee Mate is everywhere!”  @planetjoshmom

“Body hair removal session is now over and I’ve moved onto sitting on couch with rollers in my hair. Highly entertaining. ” @redneckmommy

“Remember to RSVP to the Social Ducks party happening tonight after dinner.”   @BackpackingDad

“Shhhhhhhh! I’ve been DYING to hear this next speaker. ” @sarann

…and of course, I have to share mine….

“OMG! There is a fat, hairy, SMELLY man in front of me in the badge line at #homeher10.”  @thestilettomom

So a very big thank you to Backpacking Dad for giving us all a laugh today.    It almost  makes up for the fact that I might have had the chance to stalk Matt Lauer in person today….ALMOST.

Take this weekend for instance.    Starting on Friday, the temps soared well above 100 degrees.    Saturday was 104, Sunday clocked in at 105.    So far, today’s high has been 106.    If we get to 110 I’m giving up and moving into the freezer and the hell with the massive amounts of frozen foods I’ve managed to hoard in there.     Sure, it might kill me but I’ll be beautifully preserved…and not stinky.

I’m dying here.

To top it off, after last weeks fiasco with the guest room ceiling falling in, this week, the AC in my office went out.    I get ready for the day in my office for a couple of reasons.    First, it allows me to be near my computer in case some “advertising emergency” should arise.   (Stop laughing, it happens often , sometimes, every once in a blue moon.)  Secondly, I can lock myself in and pretend like I don’t have two children who seem intent on killing eachother before school resumes in EXACTLY 21 days.    (To be more  precise…504 hours/30,240 minutes/1,814,400 seconds….take your pick, but who’s counting?)

Anyway, I started noticing I was sweating pretty profusely and since I’m not quite due for hot flashes just yet, I went to check out the thermostat.    Holy Hot Flash…it was 85 degrees inside!

The good news is, after multiple trips from our wonderful AC guy, we should be up and running again today for good.    The bad news is, it’s still hot and no amount of air conditioning is going to make anyone feel any better.    We have turned into moles in our own home,  shades shuttered and curtains drawn, and we exist in total darkness taking turns shoving each other out from in front of the fan in between jumping in and out of the bowl of soup we used to lovingly refered to as our pool.

So, all that being said, sorry for the lazy posting schedule and the total apathy on reading anything…perhaps in a week or so when it’s a chilly 99 degrees again!

I hate Mondays.    I hated this Monday more than most.   But let’s back up and talk about why I also hated it’s predecesor, Sunday.

Sunday arrived with much promise.   The Man and I slept in after going to a wedding, we had a lazy breakfast and were getting ready to float in the pool all day.    At about 10:00 it was looking really good for us.

At 10:30 that all changed.

The kids ran upstairs to tidy up their rooms and put on their suits when all of a sudden we heard screams, “OH MY GOD! THERE’S SO MUCH WATER!!! FLOOD!!! FLOOD!!” at which point that lazy Sunday disappeared as we ran up the stairs to see what could have possibly happened.    I was freaking out thinking that for sure I was going to see Shamu balancing a little ball on his/her nose  but was immediately consoled to learn that we had “very small leak” from a “tiny little copper pipe” .   While it required we go several hours without water or any type of fun, I was assured it was not a big deal as it hadn’t gone on for too long and The Man was able to fix it with a quick trip or two to Home Depot and our day was back on track by about 1:00 or so.

Yeah, about that.

Turns out, this leak must have been going on for much longer than we thought.    On Monday,  The Man broke down all the furniture in the room prepping to re-paint the ceiling,  even going so far as to take the blades off the fans.    I was literally slammed all day at work and exhausted by the end of the day.   We had a lovely dinner together that night and I was happily taking the kids upstairs to bed around 9:00  when I opened the guest bedroom door and saw THIS:

Yes, I know it’s a horrible picture but I snapped it with my iPhone really fast before I turned into my 8 year old daughter and ran screaming through the house.   I’m not sure you can tell it in this picture, but the hole is about as tall as I am  (5’4”) and much like me, needing to be much smaller in the middle part.    The fact that we resemble each other does nothing to make me love it in any way shape or form.

Also, like it always is with uninvited guests, it left a mess behind.  Witness:

That carpet right there?  Is now dead too.   Who knew one “very small leak” from a “tiny copper tube” could be so viscious?

The good news here, if there is any, is that The Man is super handy around the house and spent most of the day today cutting out the remainder of the ceiling and putting new dry wall in.

Even better?   We now have an optional moon roof in our guest room and I get to kill that hideous green on the walls.

See?  Always a bright side to everything.

But then again, I’m not the one dealing with drywall either…..