Sunday, July 22, 2012

Thursday, July 12, 2012

better than dessert

My 7-year-old asked to watch "Super Man-Eating Snakes" rather than have dessert to top off a really great summer day.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

motherhood according to the ever-loyal G-love

What is happening here is my listening my way through a G-love tantrum. A big bro with anaphylaxis, a little bro with some questionable delays, and a newborn sister means that my incredibly capable G-love takes too much on and gets lost in the shuffle. When she hits her limit, she tantrums. The cause of this tantrum is big bro breaking Social Rule #1 in my house: no moaning. Apparently, they agreed to go halvsies and trade half of their different flavour Z-Bars. Mid-trade, big bro decided to moan. She decided to discipline. The world did not understand that she had my back and the tussle in the back resulted in such a tantrum that we had to pull over and get her out of the car as she broke Social Rule #2 in my house: only listening children are invited into my car. In all fairness, big bro moans a lot, yet, we still had to review our personal jobs. Mummies enforce Social Rule #1: no moaning. Sisters must follow-thru: go halvsies when you say you will go halvsies.

I asked her, "Am I a sister?"
She said, "No. (insert red faced wailing and snot/drool/tears dripping onto my forearm. She does not "cry pretty" as they say in the movie industry...) You do not have a moaning brother. "
I said, "Then I am not the one who can go halvsies. Are you a Mum?"
"No," she said and without breaking for me to tell her that my job was to stop big bro from moaning, she wails, "I do not have milk in my breasts or a higher education."

So. That's me. A highly educated pair of lactating breasts. hm. hmmmm. In all fairness again, I don't think that the Greedy Tulip even knows of my higher education as she doesn't even know she has opposable thumbs. G-love has my back. She is loyal.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

jimmy fallon

Grumpy corners lurk in the dark of the early morning in my house. To tell you how I combat this, I must first tell you that I love Jimmy Fallon. I love him. I love his late night show. I record it so that when Greedy Tulip arises from her bed at 3 am I have something to keep my mind from going to unecessarily grumpy places. Last night I thought to myself whilst watching him slip-n-slide crash into a tower of toilet paper for a world record, "I would be a great sidekick for him when Higgins is sick." Then I thought, "How would I apply?" Then I thought, "No, they would never even let me through the trap door as they think I've not paid dues."

Ha! Not paid my dues.Ha!

Okay Mr. Television. I've not done time in front of beligerant drunks. But I guarantee my crowd of kids in polyster costumes every day of summer in 90+ heat constitutes a tougher crowd to keep laughing. Thank God the Greedy Tulip lacks head control, awareness of her opposable thumbs, language, and enough core strength to insist thru words and actions that a horse/lion/darth vader suit is vital summer attire. 3am alone with her is not too bad after the sun comes up. Have your people call my people Jimmy. Wait, don't. My people only breath heavily and stare blankly after hitting the talk button.
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Wednesday, July 4, 2012

go your own way

When I was 7, my mother scolded me about my reading habits. I was homesick due to our recent move from St. Cloud to Rochester and it was the "summer of my reading."  Until that time, I was a great reader in school but did not partake outside of assignments. She literally forced me into the library to choose books and then onto a green 70's plaid wingback chair to read. The "Little House on the Prairie" series was my first task. Her gift of making me find the joy in diving into any reading material at hand has carried me through the storms of inner unmooring for decades. A nap and a book can solve many woes for me. I have tried to pass this  gift of reading onto my children. I think I have at least with Little M and G-Love. But I have not passed on reading as a way out of sadness. I think because there was yet another lesson for me to learn and this time, not from my mother but from my son.
I have had to learn that each of us has our own way of dealing with heartache. For T-Bird...well...At the moment, he finds comfort in stripping naked and donning his brother's goggles. While I will not strip naked and follow suit when I am grumpy about life, I have had to learn that we all have our personal ways of recovering from life's bumps. In his case, he did not like the jammies I chose. Who knew that heartache from pajamma choice could hit so hard? Who am I to judge? Really? I am, in all honesty, hoping this particular coping mechanism gives way to something less nude, less oh bizarre? I'm just saying it's quite cute just now but might be a tad bit disturbing as he matures. Perhaps my mother was right in more ways than one when she forced me to read oh so long ago. So. Thank you T-Bird. Lesson learned; we all have unique ways of dealing with sorrow. Now start reading. 

Have ordered alphabet cards to grill T-Bird on ASAP. Just kidding. Sort of.....
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