It's all in the eyebrows.

Meet Simon

Simon is an evil robot. (notice the eyebrows)
He is my alter ego.
You'd better watch yourself!

Kill Me.

Dear Intestines,
What the heck is going on?
Do you hate me?
What did I ever do to you to deserve this??
Ok, maybe the Mexican food wasn't the best decision but
look, you turned on me first.
Hey - don't argue, you did and you know it.
You decided to slack off and forced me to take drastic action;

It's not like I ate the whole box.
I ate like 5, maybe 6.
SIX!
And yet you decide to give me grief.
I've had it!
Enough!
And as for you, Sheryl Crowe, just shut the hell up!
I'll use as much as I want.

Tsk, Tsk

How did this happen.
Boy Scouts - 1x per week
Religion class - 1x per week
School Baseball Games - 2x per week
- (practice during phys ed 4x a wk)
Town Baseball Practice - 1x per week
Town Baseball Games - 2x per week
Violin Lessons - 2x per week
Homework - 3 hrs+ - 4x per week
Ok, do the math.
That schedule equals 9 million hours per week.
Paul and I used to "tsk tsk" those parents who had their
kids running from one thing to another, totally overscheculed.
Well, we're no longer the "tsk-ers". We're the "tsk-ees".
Dylan had a little melt down a couple of weeks ago.
It made me take a step back
and take a look at what was going on.
We sat down and talked about his schedule.
We went through everything, discussing the possibility of dropping some activities.
He wants to do everything.....EVEN VIOLIN. (I was sure that would be the first to go)
Ok.
I told him he has a crazy schedule and
he can't be on the baseball field
when he has a religion class so he'll have to choose.
We can't do everything and that's okay.
I try to steer him in his decision making,
it's a lot to expect a kid to decide
that he's exhausted from baseball
and that it's okay to take a violin lesson instead,
or even skip it all together.
It's too much for an 11 year old.
Who's to blame?
Me.
I take the blame.
All of it.
How do I make it better? Do we quit everything?
If that would make him happy, we'd do it.
He wants to do everything.
I'm glad he's not a quitter, but he needs guidance
before he gets burned out.
So as much as I believe that being part of a team is
very important, if we have to miss a game, so be it.
Studying for Confirmation is a must, but if we need
a night to just watch TV, so be it.
If he doesn't make Eagle Scout by the time he's 12, that's ok.
Rather play Game Cube than scales - fine by me.
I don't want him doing fractions at 9:30 pm. I'll write a note
and we'll do it over the weekend.
Kids need to be kids.
I'm sorry I let it get to this point, but I can fix it.
I can and I will.
I'm on his side.

Parenting is FUN!

Yeah, this parenting thing...it's fun, isn't it?
It is, right?
RIGHT?!
We're having fun now??!!!!!
RIGHT!!?????
Just tonight we had:
crying over homework
crying because his leg hurt
a bloody murder scream when I touched the injured area
He was hit with a baseball in the shin at school.
He's fine.
Next, baseball game.
strike out
big smack, double
strike out
Drive home, "I hate baseball."
Ok, Derek Jeter worshiper with the Yankee paraphernalia all over your room.
Whatever you say, you hate baseball, fine.
The sky is blue.
No it's grey.
It's cold.
I'm hot.
You're arguing.
No I'm not.
We just can't win.
Now he's in the bathtub singing Major Tom.
Yeah, ok. This parenting thing IS fun.

The Birds

Maybe it's because Alfred Hitchcock and I share the same birthday.....
Thursday:
Dylan requested hamburgers on the grill for dinner.
I went out on the deck to, oh I don't know, just look
at the deck I suppose.
Well, the railings were coverd with bird poop.
....and I mean covered.
I thought it was so odd, because it had rained all week.
Wouldn't all the poop get washed away?
Unless.....it all showed up....TODAY.
Hmmmmm.......
Then I noticed that the grill had some poop on the it too and as I'm looking....
....a BIRD FREAKIN' FLEW OUT OF THE GRILL!
(the grill has a hole on each side where the lid and base attach)
So I tapped the thing, just in case there were more, lifted the lid and...there.... in my grill.....
was the beginnings of a nest....... IN MY GRILL!
It was actually quite pretty, little purple flowers, leaves twigs...but I digress.
I. Was. Grossed. Out.
As I'm standing there one of the squatters comes flying over. I know it was one of them because it
gave me an evil, "Im going to peck your eyes out" look.
I told it to get lost.
As I waited for Paul to get home, I sat and watched the squatters....... and they watched me.
They kept flying over, their beaks holding nesting materials.
I'd yell, they'd squawk.
Once I meowed.
They laughed.
There were 4 of them, I guess it was going to be a 2 family grill.
They kept coming by, circling, then would go hang out in a dead tree. All the while, calculating......
So Paul comes home, cleans out the grill and sets the flame for low so the creatures will stay away and frankly,
because I was getting a little creeped out.
I really didn't want to play Tippi Hedren.
They STILL kept flying over, squawking at the heat...and at us.
As dusk fell, we felt we were finally safe and we cooked the burgers. Dylan swore he tasted feathers, but we assured him that the culprits had indeed escaped.
Well, early the next morning after Paul started the coffee, he went to check the grill and as he opened it..
2 FREAKIN' BIRDS FLEW OUT AT HIM!
They were at it again, more twigs and purple flowers.
They're tricky little suckers.
Paul thinks one of them is knocked up and they need a place to crash.
So again, he cleaned it out and this time he put a tarp over it.
Tarp in place.
No creepy black birds to be found.
Saturday night, grill steak. All is good.
Did Paul put the tarp back on?
No.
Sunday morning:
THEY
ARE
BACK!
GROSS!
You know, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure I saw a fat, balding man walking a dog down my street the other day......

"THEM"

According to my son, I'm turning into one of "THEM".
"THEM" being one of the school parents.
Well, ok, yes, I AM a school parent, but
the term "THEM" has a different meaning.
It all started when I refused to by V8 Splash.
Reason - high fructose corn syrup.
Ok, who's behind me here...come on..stand up and be counted!
Dylan wanted the SPLASH but I opted for Juicy Juice (100% REAL juice with REAL sugar)
He was so annoyed.
"Grandma lets me drink SPLASH."
Yeah, well Grandma also lets you juggle knives, play with fire,
and eat mint jelly and peanut butter sandwiches.
Ok, the first two aren't true but the mint jelly thing.........
So, he let that go and drank the Juicy Juice all the while
shooting me dirty looks.
I also started offering him Nature's Promise Veggie Chips, and
God forgive me....apples, for snacks.
He begrudgingly accepted these offerings, often walking away shaking his head.
Well, the organic manure hit the fan when I brought home.....
ALL NATURAL PEANUT BUTTER!!!!!!
I gave Dylan a celery stick to dip in to try.
"Why is it all...watery?"
"That's the peanut oil. You have to stir it first."
"Gross. You don't have to stir Skippy."
"Just try it."
You'd have thought I'd poisoned the kid.
Gagging ensued, followed by spitting.
"That's gross!"
"How can it be gross? It's peanuts and salt. No chemicals, no sugar. All natural."
"I like chemicals and I LOVE sugar."
I pulled out the Skippy jar which had maybe a teaspoon of gunk left in it and asked
Dylan to compare the ingredients with my new purchase.
Instead, he managed to climb into the jar and lick the sides with joyous abandon.
When he finally crawled out, he had the look of a crack-head who'd just gotten a fix.
He walked towards me, staring me down and said...
"You're turning into one of THEM."
"Who?"
"THEM! The parents at our new school. The ORGANIC people."
He's right. I guess some of "their" practices are rubbing off on me.
Whoops, I just dropped my Snicker's bar, hang on a sec........

Silence

Where oh where is my iPod charger??
Do you have it????

Cupcakes for Everyone!

Dylan's birthday was last week, but I finally got around to making cupcakes for his class yesterday. I made 32, even though there are only 16 kids in his class.
This is how it's done, CUPCAKES FOR EVERYONE!!!
- and I mean everyone. I had 4th graders coming up to me telling me how good they were. (Dylan is in 5th)
Now, as a teacher at the school, we have a secret code that we follow when a child brings us a birthday cupcake.
We ask them....
"Did you make these or did mom?"
(lots of ohhhhhing and ahhhhing on our part)
Now, here is the tricky part.
If the kid says;
"My mom made them." We anxiously accept the cupcake and devour it before another class comes in and puts their hands all over it begging for it.
If the kid says:
"I made them!!!".......we very graciously take one and then when the kid is gone, we toss it in the garbage....for obvious reasons. (If you don't know what I'm taking about please read my 2/17 entry, "A One Way Ticket To Hell on the Cruise Ship Barf)
So when my fellow teachers jokingly asked me if I made the cupcakes I assured them I did and added that I was playing with my feet between batches.
They ate them anyway.

Tag! I'm it!

I have been tagged by Wishful Thinking.
I now have to share with you 10 weird things about me.
Oh, here goes;

1 - I can wiggle my ears.
2 - I have to brush my teeth as soon as I finish eating.
3 - I constantly press the "door lock" button when in the car.
4 - The only time I chew gum is while driving.
5 - I cannot whistle.
6 - I have all my wisdom teeth...and yet, I still act as dopey as ever.
7 - The only thing I put in my coffee is a little milk. I like coffee flavored coffee.
8 - I think bathroom humor is great! (possibly because I'm the mother of an 11 y/o boy)
9 - I usually dance while cleaning up after dinner.
10 - I know all the words to The Devil Went Down to Georgia and the Logical Song by Supertramp.

Well, there you go. More than you'd ever want to know about me, except of course my talent for singing Charlie Daniels tunes.
Now I have to "tag" 10 lucky bloggers.
Ok here goes:
Milissa
Call Me Soccer Mom and Die
Tiffany
Tic Toc Goes The Clock
Scrapbook Trends
Flip Flop Mom
Coffee Talk
The Babblings Of Mere
Overstuffed
Birgit

All Good Things Must Come To An End

Back to school yesterday.
This vacation went by much too quickly. I was really getting used to being home again. Not that I accomplished all I had to do.
There are still loads of clean, unfolded laundry lying about.
I never tire of hearing, "Mom, do I have any clean socks?"
"Hang on D, let me sift through the load in the living room." ( you think I'm kidding, right?)
Even though I love my job, I can't help but look forward to the end of the year.
43 days, but who's counting.
We only have one more day off - Memorial Day, but I think I can make it. Then, 2 weeks off and then....CAMP!
I'm really looking forward to it this year. I love the people I work with. I can't wait.
You know, there is no way I am actually a 40 year old mom.
There must be something seriously wrong with me if I am looking forward to attending day camp.

Had a little mojo flow this weekend and created this layout about my 2 days as a "straight" person.

I love Worldwin Cardstock. The colors and textures are great. I'm glad I'm working with them.

You have to check out this blog Wishful Thinking
She finds the neatest things!

Sugar Sugar Sugar...and fart bags.

The Easter Bunny brought lots of sugar.


He also brought some "fun" stuff like this.

That's a Fart Bag.
You squeeze it, throw it, and it explodes.
The smell is HORRIBLE!
I made sure we brought them up to my brother's house.

We were greeted with over 100 plastic eggs full of sugar which resulted in The Great Sugar Crash of '07

My wonderful sister-in-law cooked a 300 pound ham which I tried to help transfer from pan to cutting board and ended up getting ham juice all over the front of me. I was able to throw my top in the wash and thank God I decided to wear that tight white shirt underneath and was able to walk around with that on. Such a good look for me.
I had a great time with my brothers.
They are so funny.
But I'm funnier....and older.
Oh wait, that's not a good thing is it?

Peeps In Peril

Photojournalism at it's best.

Eleven

Da na na na na na na na
They say it's your birthday
Da na na na na na na na
We're gonna have a good time.....

Eleven, or has Dylan likes to say, double baseball bats.
I can't believe it.
It really does go by quickly.

So, here's to my 11 year old shortstop.
My very accomplished violin player.
My brainiac.
My comedian.
My little boy.

Happy Birthday.
I love you!

Me! Me! Me!

Being a working mother is tough.
Oh stop rolling your eyes.
I know, I just started working this year and
I know I act like I'm the ONE and ONLY working mom,
but come on - it's hard.
Plus, having a 10 year old who, on any given day has
baseball
violin
religion class
boy scouts
AND 4-5 hours of homework doesn't make it any easier.
I think the kid needs a personal assistant.
Oh wait, that's ME.
And don't bother telling me he's "over scheduled" ok?
Those events often fall on the same day, same time
and we decide ahead of time which ones
we'll absolutely flip-out about missing,
we do exactly that, flip-out,
and then we sulk appropriately .
Sometimes you have to take a little time for yourself.
I find it's best to do so before the urge to torture small animals becomes so strong that................nevermind.
Yeah, that's the point I've gotten to, so the next few days are...
ALL ABOUT ME!
Had a mani-pedi this am. And a MAN did it. Loved it.
I'll definitely go to him for my next manicure (6 months).
Getting the curls cut tomorrow, hi-lites Thursday.
In between I have to get Dylan from Bobby's house, run him to violin, then baseball.
Afterwards I'll write out his birthday invitations and then run to the post office to mail them,
but I'll be sure to wear flip-flops so I can look at my new toes.
You know I already ruined my manicure, right?
..........where is a squirrel when you need one...........

Things to ponder on a beautiful Sunday morning.

1- Why does a 10 year old boy flip out when his mom picks out a perfectly nice sweater for him to wear to church?

2- How much jail time would a mom serve for jamming a sweater down a 10 year old's throat?

3- Where do the snails in my backyard come from and how do they get there so quickly?

4-When you get a new car, how long before you stop turning on the wipers when you mean to signal?
How many more times will you lock yourself INSIDE this new car?

5- Will your 10 year old son ever stop going into hysterics whenever you do that?

6- Who the hell left that Borat message on my cell phone?