Chore Chart

Okay so Teddy ended up earning 5.80, and Helen ended up earning 6.40 for the last week, out of a possible 11.30. So for the first week, not so bad. Plus we were traveling for a couple of those days so I had to makeshift it which is tough because its the first week of a new system.  But we started again yesterday with a new chart and they are still into it.  Since I handed the cash out last night before the holiday shop at their school opened today, I think they saw the benefit of getting points.

Unfortch, Bloggy is not really into letting me attach files to him.  I guess he doesn't want the commitment?  Otherwise I would put a blank chore chart into this blog for all the mothers out there who have pocket-protector-pajama-wearing Teds in their homes. (Really, we all need one.)

Ah, okay I took a screenshot.  Sometimes, I really like myself.

Hmm Okay that is STILL not great but a magnifying glass can do wonders, and it makes you look like Sherlock Holmes.  But see, the chore chart is not where it ENDS, believe it or not.  It ends with the CHECKLISTS.  Oh yeah.  For the chores... here we go

So like when these guys get home?  They are handed slips with their checklist and they have an egg timer set and it is like one hour for chores, do it.  That's five points.  Sometimes ten.  And I don't have to REPEAT myself cause I am just like its on the checklist.  And most of the time it is done, but if not, then I pick up the slack.

So basically I am running a little sweatshop of life.  The American Way. 

Oh Em Gee I keep forgetting to beg everyone to donate.  Do it. Do it now, or suffer the consequences.  (I'll come up with those later.)

Let's Get Ready to Rumble

It's official.  It's The Holidays.  Last year, during the holidays, Bloggy, you didn't exist!  So it's baby's first Christmas.  Look at that.  How sweet.

So let's see, basically Thanksgiving should be called Eat Day. Let's be honest, this is a day all about how many different things I can pile into my piehole at several different times of the day.   Honestly, you wake up and the goal is food. End of story.  Some people call this the harvest.  Right-o. 

Oh and also, there is some sort of story about Pilgrims and Native Americans, but lemme tell you, we are not really putting our best foot forward here. Cause basically we stole some land from some nice peeps who were minding their own bizz. They were trying to help us live in our new country, and we were like, thanks so much! Now I own you. 

But anyhoozle. always nice to see the fam.  Or not, (depending upon who is in your fam.) I saw many fams, I saw Brad's fam and Ash's fam and my fam and Grandma Patsy's fam.

Abracadabra!

So H is studying a book of optical illusions, and I am like, hey, "What are you doing?"  And she is like well I am studying these optical illusions because I don't want anyone trying to trick me. 

And I think, yes,  definite good use of time. The chances are high that some masked man will pop out of a bush and say hey do you see four lines or three?? You are WRONG little girl!  See, she isn't going to fall for any of that.  Well done.

But you know, she has to spend her time doing things she likes to do. And clearly, I expect the first question on the SATSs to be like do you the old lady or the young woman?

 

Um I have only ever seen the old woman. This drives me crazy.  

Tooth Fairy

So sometimes the tooth fairy does not have cash.    I mean if a tooth falls out at 8PM on a Sunday, and the tooth fairy has no cash in the house, we need to give the tooth fairy a break. 

Of course H and T BOTH lost teeth on the same day, SUNDAY, when we were already in for the day and Mama recently spent all her cash (probs on apples) so I am like eh.  Maybe I have to email the tooth fairy.  And Ted is all okay great can you let me see the email before you send it? And I am like sure, no problem....Now I have to create a fake email from the tooth fairy but that actually sounds like fun. 

So Monday I ot some cash back but it came in a TWENTY and the tooth fairy doesn't do twenties. I mean if she does, I think Grandma Patsy and I need to have a serious talk.  So finally TODAY I have some singlets to give (to the tooth fairy) to the little ones.  So how do I explain her absence?  She had a cold? 

Maybe I will let this one be a MYSTERY.  I mean the tooth fairy gets BUSY, and we need to give the tooth fairy a break sometimes.  She is like a single mother of how many?

Playdate

Oh the power of giving points.  I love walking around with a pencil and deciding the fate of so many nickels.

E had a playdate today with a ten month old.  They do parallel play a lot of the time from age 1 to age 3.  E rolled up to her new friend's house and was pretty much hey, whattya got here? Can I touch it? Gimme.  And the little one year old. Grace (G) is only ten months so she is pretty much like HOLD UP.  This is my stuff and I can't really move yet and you are WALKING everywhere while I try to scoot and catch up with you.  And E all prances around like yes I shall play with this and yes I shall play with that and little G is the cutest ever following her around with her eyes... um okay..  you go ahead and do your thing and I am gonna throw some diapers around.  E's like, sounds good, let's hit it. And that was that for about two hours.

Now I had told G's name like five times and I told E G's mom name, Jen. So when  Dad came home I was like oh we had a nice play date and had some fun with a new friend.  E can you tell Dad who we saw today (these are the types of tests you give your children to see if they are not dingbats) Dad is like yay who did you see today? And E is all

TOYS.

I'm like okay, so now we have gotten the materials out of the way we will work on the friendships then....

American Education Week Part 3

So the best was when I was in Helen's classroom for bring your adult to a classroom day or whatevs there was parent there I recognized and she was complaining about a teacher to another teacher. And she said, "Well at least I know my kid isn't the WORST in the class."  And so on and then we go get introduced only to realize that not only do we have kids in this classroom together, but we have sons in the same classroom downstairs!  And it takes a second for everyone to realize the worst boy in the class she was talking about?  My Ted. Ha ha Awk.


Anyhooz..Teddy has been doing pretty well lately.  Thriving, if you will.  I just instituted a behavior sheet for the home which is similar to his school behavior sheet.  He gets various points for things throughout the day and of course since Helen is here, she has one, too.  One of the categories is two points for waking up cheerfully.  Ha Helen usually only gets one point on that.  Ted always two and of course he pulls a pencil from the pocket of his pajamas being like how many points did I get?

The behavior sheet is for the week.  There is a total of 226 points that can be obtained. I made each point worth a nickel.  So at then end of the week they total up their points and they have the ability to earn up to eleven dollars. (and ten cents for all of you mathematicians out there.)  Oh, it's totally complicated and they totally love it.  And yep here we actually deduct points for bad behavior instead of ignoring it.

 

It's what we called in the old days... their allowance.

Flying Baby

Hi Bloggy! We need to have a serious discussion.  Sit down.   What do you LIKE?  I mean, what are your likes.  Now that I have labeled you and we are growing and sprouting, I need to know what you like.  Do you like it when I put pics on you?  Do you like it when we do lists?  Do you like longer posts or shorter posts?  I don't know.  You have to communicate with me, darling.  I love you so much. MWAH.

Also this woman at the library had three daughters and she told me they all love their little doll babies. Rocka bye baby on the tree top... And they are so sweet and maternal and nurturing.  And then she had a son. And he takes his sisters' baby doll and is like hey ......FLYING BABY!

And I am like, yep pretty much sums it up

Helen's Vocab Journal

Really, it's the pictures that make it.

American Education Week Part 2

Hey Bloggy!  How are you feeling in your new outfit?  I seriously just spent thirty dollars on apples. My husband is like how do you spend thirty bucks on apples, and I am like yeah right? Those bitches are kind of expensive; let's get a tree.  Do you know how many different apples there are?  A lot of different kinds, and they all must go into my belly.

Quick update on the kiddos

So let's see:

H -  is playing the flute and giving Mama some attitude.  She has taken to the disrespectful tone when answering.  So since I am not into bitch-slapping (yet), we are working on it with the "Try Again".  SO if she answers me in a tone, I just say try again and she modulates.  What else to do?  But of course she is still a sweet doll face.

T- T actually got a good phone call from school!  Yay Ted!  Some peeps were busting it up in the yard and Teddy broke it up and was pushed but did not hit back.  Wowsers.  And Yay!  So we can breathe slightly easier for one second.  Though we did go to his therapist yesdy and mom will be starting a behavior chart at home.  So we shall see.  I am going the route of stickers for the girls and serious points for the mathematician boy.  That's right. Mama is sexist.

E-  Oh, E. She is like having none of it.  Her clothes are consistently coming off.  I mean, as soon as we get inside the house, this chickie is naked as a jaybird.  There is the stomping and the wailing.  Oh, the wailing.  Is it possible stickers will turn this around? Stay tuned, I guess.

But she was good in the classroom for our American Education Week.  We went to Ted's classroom and Helen's and E could not quite figure out why they were not TOGETHER in the same classroom.  Right?  But I definitely got some serious eye rolls for bringing E.  Of course it's me, so I am like HEY how ARE you? Here I am, breaking the rules.  Silly me!  Fly fly fly away, haters.

I told her we would have to leave if she couldn't keep her sh*t together, Blog.

Under Construction

Hi Bloggy,

My biggest lover GP wanted to know why there were two old posts at the top of you.  Well the answer is we are giving you a little makeover.  Every once in a while a Blog likes to touch up, you know, for the holidays or just because it's getting on in posts.

So Mama doesn't really know what the f she is doing in creating you (you are a Blog of a different color, just like Mama and her three little ones) and therefore you have grown...unruly.  So I am trying to tame you, Blog.  Categorize you, fluff you up a bit.  It isn't easy.  Oh no, it's not that you are a hot mess or anything, it's just that you have so much to work with!  It's a good thing.

Now, if we could only do the same to Grandma Patsy....

Grandma Patsy

And now Blog, since you don't read my email (do you?) I am just going to cut and paste the one my mother sent me below in purple.

I think another disclaimer is in order.  I don't think cats are messy at all.  As a matter of fact, they are very clean and neat and they generally smell good and purr.  Those are some of the reasons I like them so much. I don't want a cat because I don't have anyone to take care of it when I am away and also when it gets to be over 10 lbs, I can't pick her up.

PS  have you gotten any donations yet?

PPS  Behind every great woman, there is a great cat!

Okay so now:

1. Grandma Patsy does NOT Want me to blog about her (but she sort of does).

2.  Grandma Patsy is clearly the reason I went my childhood life thinking all cats were girls and all dogs were boys.

3.  What did Grandma Patsy do when her children got to be over 10 lbs?

All Booties Up

So in kindergarten I met my best friend, Brad.  And Brad was a boy and I was a girl.   Now that I think about it, we are still a boy and a girl.  Phew.  So also growing up I was somewhat of a tomboy. And by tomboy, I mean ugly.  I'm sure Grandma Patsy has a picture or two that would make you wince, Bloggy.  My best feature was my buck teeth.  For real.  Man, braces and mascara can really work magic. But that's cool, I was good at sports. And Brad and I were some super competitive peeps.  We were all man I don't care if you win or I win while secretly tying the other person's shoelaces together.

Anyway, since Brad was a boy, he hung around with boys, Try to keep up with me here, Bloggy.  So therefore I hung around with a few boys in my time. Not like THAT, Bloggy.  Jesus.  Get a grip. And one of the games the Stuy Town boys played was called All Booties Up.  It was your regular handball style game, but if you missed, you had to turn around and stand with your hands up against the wall with your booty sticking out so all the other players could try to hurl the ball as far as they could up your a$$.

Now, luckily, mama was good at sports so it didn't happen to me all that often.  And Brad would always be nice and try to get me out of the punishment because none of the boys really wanted to practice domestic violence anyway.  Of course if Brad was mad at me, he would be like get your a$$ up against that wall.


The best is when everyone is like hey! Let's play some Duck Duck Goose or some Red Rover, and I am like or how about some All Booties Up?  Crickets.   I'm like, oh you guys don't play that?

American Education Week Part 1

Blog, at some point we are going to have to talk about...organization.  Sigh.

Okay so for all of you lovers out there, this week is American Education Week. Which means you get to invite an adult to your classroom.  Cause it's not like the old days where people can just roll up and pop in.  If you want to visit your child's classroom, you better have your driver's license and a coupla baby teeth. And the memo home says if mom or dad can't make it, you can bring another important adult.

So what I like to do is go down the aisles of adults.  I'm like I dunno, maybe I'll bring my old PreK teacher.  She was prettty special in my life.  Oh and also the memo says (as I am listening to a constant constant constant scream from one three year old raving banshee right now) IF you have younger siblings at home we RESPECTFULLY ask that you keep them at home.  Lock that shit up, yo.

Bahahahahahaha.

Obvs E is front and center.  That's right.  Mama's got some problems with the rules.  But really, Mama doesn't have an adaptable babysitter for all sorts of odd times of day.  Oh when?  945am till 1015am? then again from 145 to 300 pm?   What kind of babysitting situation would make this work? Sure I can just throw E out the window as I drive your place and you can throw her back in the afternoon and I will pay you by the forty five minutes.  Also can you babysit for five minutes on Thursday?


  I mean, perhaps I could bring a cage for Eleanor?  I dunno.  Of course I totally understand you can't have babies screaming their sorrows while you are having your students try to discover round shapes to be thankful for.  It is distracting.  But what is a Mama to do?

McJudgey

The hubster and I were talking about someone in the medical field.  As in, whether we should frequent their establishment and entrust our family to their capable and competent hands.  And I was like, eh I think she is a little crazy and he was like eh but she is right around the corner.  And why do you think she is crazy?

So I am like well first of all the cats.  She bought a special dyson fan for her cats so they could jump through it and not hurt themselves. And he is like, I never saw any cats there.  And I am like right so now we are talking about pretend cats.

But then second of all the outfit.  I mean, I am all for going comf (hello stretchypants) and I don't mean to judge, but here I go.  There are the polyester pants (I don't think comf?) that I get it are maybe inexpensive, but so are a lot of my pants that are nifty.  Then the orthopedic shoes, okay maybe you have a problem with your foot.  Sure.  The coke bottle glasses are a bit much.  But then we get down to the fanny pack.  And at that point I just say, I mean okay. You went to medical school.  You are clearly smart. Target is JUST around the corner.  Things don't need to be this way. There are choices.

I mean be it an acupuncturist, dentist, chiropractor, Ted;s therapist, whatever. If you are involved in touching any of my family's various parts, dress appropriately and maybe put on some lipstick?

E Lists!

Ha here is a quick list of things E does to AVOID doing things she does not want to do.


Her finger is hurt.  It's hurt really bad! It needs medical attention and a "kiss blow" treatment in order for us to be able to get on with anything.

I want snack. I want cheese stick and ohgurt and gwapes.  In a bowl.

I have to take a bath now.  Right this second. Gotta drop everything and get in that tub.


Things E does not want to do:

Write the letter E.
Go to the store.
Take a bath,

Evil

Somehow, my computer got a virus.  What is up with that?  Why would you not just leave me and poor Bloggy alone.  Like what is evil?

Well, Evil isn't at the Warminster library right now. (I don't think). But maybe.  So everyone has a little bit of evil in them, I guess and that's the whole Garden of Eden situation.  Great job guys.  No, really, thanks a bundle.  We're all set.

So  evil is the opposite of good.  Let' start there.  Baby steps Bloggy, Love 'em.  And I guess we should all try to stomp out the evil and let the good flow, right? You with me?  But what if....we let the evil OUT. Then what happens?  Well, I'll tell you (cause I'll always tell you, you're my BLOG, Bloggy)

Your basic shit show.

I mean, I know I have done evil things.  That sucks. Ha, the flying fast images of all my evil.  What was I thinking? Why?  Not sure.  It's interesting to me to think about because I feel like I am always trying to do GOOD things, Bloggy.

Stupid computer virus.

Happy Birthday

I actually spent a fair amount of my day in court.  And I have to say; on either side of the bench, you do have some very interesting characters.  Love em or hate em, they are our society.  So Mama spent some time observing.  With her crazy eyeballs.  Which is akin to saying Mama's head is about to explode with a gazillion wonderings.

Now, the judge, he was actually a very nice guy. He had a handful of drug addicts stand in front of him and they had to tell a long tale about why they did what they did, and he asked them many questions.  And he always started with, How can I help you beat your addiction?  And I thought to myself, this guy has the opportunity to be smug and condescending.  He could easily dismiss these guys (one white male, one black male, one Hispanic male and one Greek female), heck he could condemn them and send them to prison just for fun. And instead he starts with How can I help you beat your addiction?  

So then this started me thinking about Jesus.  Because if I am correct, this is pretty much how this Guy rolled.  Let me help you, what can I do for you and how can I be your servant?  And guess what?  Jesus ended up having a lot of problems.  A lot of, if you will, "drama" in his life.  But he also chose to spend time with the tax collectors, the addicts, the prostitutes and those who also had a lot of "problems".  And no one ever said, Hey Jesus, I am like, kind of tired of all your effin problems... so if you could just like BE HAPPY and everything, that would just be great.  Because then I could just get on with my life, and not have to worry about you.  Thanks so much, JC.

So usually Mama isn't in a room with a bunch of wife beaters or drug addicts, but today I was. And I didn't think I was any better than they were at all for one second.  They were simply the guy next to me on the bus.  Or the man who helped me out of a taxi. Etc. The woman I ask to hand me a roll of toilet paper under the door.  All people.  All the same with mistakes.  And I think the Judge got that, too.

4eva

Hmmm okay, gimme a scenario where I would NOT buy a forever stamp?  And I would buy a different stamp.  Tell me when I would do this. Like I am confused.  Am I missing something with the forever stamps?  Probs, I miss a lot, Bloggy.  Sooooo, here we are.  WHAT DID YOU GET ME?  You weren't alive last year when I had my birthday.  Gimme.  Now.

Wegmans is open twenty four hours a day and seven days a week.  So if I am ever homeless, this is the ideal sitch.  They have everything.  Um, do homeless people not know about Wegman's?  You could definitely get lost in there for a month or two at least.

Sooooo today is my BIRTHDAY.  So what do I have to say about that?  This:  social media is cray cray.  And I know everybody makes fun of the facebook bday and how everyone finally pays attention to you or whatever.  But really, I am grateful to be in "touch" with all of these awesome people, even if it is just for a second.  Without facebook, I might not have remembered James Lyness or Maria Amorim on this special day.  But because of this "silly", "time-wasting" (whatever the haters call you fb I am always on your side) medium I get to enjoy so many people.  I get to see how happy they are (when they are happy), and I think of them -  even if it is for a second - I still think of them, connect with them and wish them well.

There is absolutely no downside to that, Blog.

Not dead

Hey Blog!  Grandma Patsy wanted me to tell you I am not dead.  Also, tomorrow is my birthday.  (She didn't tell me to tell you, but as a Blog, you might want to online shop for a bit.)  That's all for now, Blog.  I have to rest my crazy ankle.  Hugs.

Spider Bite

Kay so I'm pretty sure a spider bit my ankle and I am not gonna make it.  Man, the movie Arachnophobia really did me in.

Hi Blog.  Both kids at home sick today :(  We had one vomitoso and another well as H put it, coming out the other end.  Eiw. And anyway all is fine now until Mama gets it.  I just really wanted to show you this pic of my ankle even though it's super gross.  Not my ankle.  I love my ankles.  Hey there, nice ankles.  Wink.

We were doing BrainQuest yesterday and the question was who discovered Iceland? And H said, am I supposed to remember their names? And I was like hahahhah, Yes, they are Tom and Bradford.

Vibes

Okay so I know you want me to sleep and everything but I just can't Bloggy.  Sometimes, that happens.

Skin is so weird.  I mean, it just is,  Also, if you have skin and are reading this, you should donate to my blog (pretty much incorporates everyone).

So ONE of the reasons I believe in God.  Man that is a crazy one.  There are so many reasons to believe. And so many reasons not to.  It's like at the end of the day, which side of the coin flips up, and for me mostly it is the God side.  That could be because from a very small age Grandma Patsy was pouring God juice into my ears. But anyway, ONE of the reasons I believe in God are the vibes.

Like let's just think about the word 

vibe. A distinctive emotional quality or atmosphere that is sensed or experienced by someone.
  

It also came up with another synonym: nostalgia.  So science is great and I love science. I am always pouring baking soda into vinegar and mixing bleach with it and telling everyone to take cover. But then there are FEELINGS.  Feelings, Bloggy.  Like what the hell are those?  Science has no word for them.  I guess instinct, maybe. and HORMONES. (Sorry my dad's voice has just chimed in how do you make a whore moan? you don't pay her. Sorry.) But still. 

We have all watched the videos where a mama lion cub rescues a baby lizard because she senses the vibe of danger or whatever. And the lizard grows to be a good lion and save the jungle.  Wait I think I just morphed into a Disney movie. And yes, there are the smells and the extra perceptive eyeballs and the super human sensory thingys. I mean I am pretty sure my cat sees things all the time and thinks Um what the hell is Nancy doing?  (cause I am a little blind, Bloggy. I have cataracts!)

Okay so what was I talking about? It's 3 am. the vibes.  Okay so the VIBE is like when you just KNOW something, and I guess we are all just animals so we do have the sensory predilections, but let's give you some examples.

DANGER
this is a good one if you are ever in a bodega in NYC at 3am. Or pretending to be a spy.

THIS GUY LIKES ME
this is a good one if you are ever out on a date.

THIS GUY HAS A RECORD
this is a good one if you are ever out on a date.

MY BOSS IS GOING TO BE LATE
this is a good one if you can't decide on which pair of pantyhose to wear.

THIS BITCH IS STRONGER THAN ME
Sorry, never happened.

I mean, to me, the vibes are all over.  And if you are ever telling me a story (which won't happen cause I will interrupt you to tell you my better story jk jk jk) you NEVER have to explain a reason and just say, so I got the vibe. And it's like we can SKIP all the freaking details of WHY you got the vibe.  His hand was on your leg, there was eye contact over three seconds, he has your name tattoed on his ass.  Whatevs, it's the vibe.

Oh wait, I just reread this and decided I didn't have a good ending so here it is:  when you KNOW the vibe is there and maybe you can't quite put it into words but the other party (boss, boyfriend, magician at your 6 year old bday party) is like wait, I dunno what you are talking about WHAT DO YOU MEAN? All like I wasn't FLIRTING WITH HER or OFFERING HER A RAISE or MAKING A BUNNY COME OUT OF A HAT. 

Damn, why are you so dramatic?

Bear You On; the Breath of Dawn!

GREAT DAY!  First of all the vending machine at the YMCA gave me a gold dubloon back when I put a dollar bill in it to purchase chippies. I would have stood there all day but the second attempt yielded nothing.


Okay so obvs I woke my kids up pretending to be a dog this morning.  At first I was a little dog, like maybe a Chiuauauauauauauaua or a  daschaushcaushaushaund. But then they didn't get up. So I became a big dog. Like a bear. But I did all the barking and the panting in the ear (essential) until those mf-ers got some cereal.


So I had to take Ted to his therapist today and the girls came with.  While we were in the waiting room, we had an hour to kill.  Now, there are so many thngs you can do with an hour.  And the girls. The hour and some girls. . I mean. really.  And I am not even gonna try to lie, if you had a nanny cam in that lobby waiting room, you would have seen us in several different costume changes throughout the hour (pan to me wearing E's clothes and vice versa), but they also had an edition of Brain Quest for 5th graders that I read aloud whilst pretending to be a ballerina.

And of course as Helen answered (and the 12 step group came through the lobby about three different times) I was plieing and releveing and scissor kicking  and apologizing (but not really meaning it) and then finally E and I just got on the floor and started all out tumbles.  So fun.

Then after all of THAT, I went to the church choir practice.  That's right.  Mama's got some lungs. But I am tiny and little so I just wanted to go and like watch but of course the choir practice is like a freaking country club that has legacies going on for decades so I walk in and they are like SO ARE YOU A SOPRANO OR AN ALTO?

And I shit you not, I said, you may as well be speaking German to me.  And the woman was like can you read music, and I stared at her with my greeny green eyes.  Blankety blank blank smile,.See, Blog, my EYES were saying I am the smartest human on the planet, but HER eyes were reading where did you get that dye job? So then of course she dismissed me.  Which is pretty much the worst thing you can do to mystretchypants.  Cause you know it's always gonna come back to haunt ya.

So whatevs, I was like if we can Raise You up on Eagle's Wings everything's gonna be okay.

Haters

Okay so we have a new hater.  I just took this yoga class and the woman who taught it was pretty rude to me. So I am acting out, Bloggy.  I left the class and am writing this as she teaches the end.  She can see through the window.  Hi, I am here.  Oh, Mama knows how to be a bitch.  All I did was well....

okay, I did come in late.  I apologized.  But I made a new friend and was talking to her.  I did the walk where you announce yourself by exaggerating the walk and mouthed sorry.  I got my mat and vinyasaed it up.  By the by, yoga is funny cause in school when you don't follow directions it is all low key and it doesn't show up till you hand in your papers, but in yoga when you don't follow directions everyone is planking and you are standing and its like being caught with your pants down, somehow.  Not that I have ever been caught with my pants down. Well maybe, I dunno.  If I have, I have repressed it.

So then I wasn't sure if she was a hater so I said hey I like your tats (that's not a typo, tattoos, Bloggy) and she said thanks. And then I asked if she was a sub and she said no.  So I guess I was talking too much?  Finally I asked her who was singing on her playlist and she was like I DON'T KNOW.  which I took to mean shut the hell up and do yoga.

But seriously, it's yoga. Come on.  Namaste,

Nothing Special

Till you get to the last line. And then you are like, Wait. what?

Tuesday Torture

Sort of like Taco Tuesday. Except one is delicious.  So Blog, I think I forgot to tell you that Pennsylvania is a state that is made up of one road with two lanes.  This road has no lights, and is mostly hills and twists and at times random crazy walls and drop offs. Also, for extra fun, Mac trucks drive up and down the road and blare and beep and honk at tiny cars all the live long day.  Then, when no one was paying attention, someone went and STOLE all the street signs from this road so you can never figure out where you are. Plus, it's made out of banana peels.

So it's raining and all three kiddos have swim lessons Tuesday nights.  No way out but Mama has to drive in the dark and she no likey. So I mean the adrenaline spike alone could fuel my husband's lawn mower for eternity.  I have my seat pressed up against the wheel and fourteen pairs of glasses on.  I am breathing Lamaze and no child is allowed to make a noise while Mama has to concentrate.  It's serious business.  But then we get there and let me tell you.

There is something about the cold wet atmospheric night, and trudging and slodging and buckling and changing, when you enter the locker room.... its warm and sweaty and the smell of chlorine.  It makes me so happy to see my little bootle bunnies all excited to take OFF clothes and get into swimsuits and do this exciting thing.  All three of them are ready to go, and I just get so happy watching them (and thanking god that not a toe of mine has to become submerged).

I think it reminds me of my childhood swimming days, and my friend Brad. We seriously used to swim some shiz up.  Blog, we have not even begun to talk about Brad. Yay!

Oh also, yay, I am still alive! Donate.

Storytime

So I was like doo duh doo whatta ma gonna do today? And then all of a sudden, I was like oh wait. Hold up.  Got a three year old right here who doesn't know how to read.  Let's make that happen.

Cue E surrounded by her Paw Patrol barricade shooting little rubber bands at me.

I mean, E is a feisty little nugget.  There is no doubt about it.  Today, at the library story time, while all the other little kids were quietly listening to the story the woman was reading, E gets up, and  comes over to me. She whispers, "Mom, can I have book?"  So I give her a book, and wouldn't you know it this one plops right down in the semi circle with HER book and begins HER OWN story time.

I'm like, eh sorry for the competition.

Santa

So it turns out my barre class is going to be okay. I know you were worried, Bloggy.  The only problem is as I plie and releve my blogs off, you can actually hear my body CREAKING.  Yikes. Snap crackle pop and creak.  I am like, hmmm, maybe turn the music up?  So we shall see if this new exercise actually helps my ball and sockets or if I will crackle and fall into a pile of Nancy twigs.  I love being an experiment, Blog!

So wouldn't you know the kids still believe in Santa.  And I mean, like they are expecting him at dinner tonight.  I don't know how somebody has not dashed these kids dreamsicles yet, but it's true. So that's cool with me because I love it when my kiddos stay in their younger space.  I feel no need to rush them into growing up.  The problem is they are so flipping smart that it is hard to explain WHY Santa will not get them an XBox One this holiday season.  I mean, Santa is not a douchebag.

(I know I know Blog, the language. You are still so young.  Apologies).

Anyhooz, lists are being made and I of course found H like this at 700AM

Yay lists

Things That Annoy the F out of Me:

 Grabbing a pen with no ink and then grabbing another pen with no ink. let's talk about a THIRD     *stroke*

 Various beeping reminders



                 your microwaved food is ready...... it's ready! it's ready! don't go into the                                              bathroom...cause it's ready, it's ready, it's ready.... *jazz hands*

                  put your seat belt on. ding ding ding ding.  put it on. put it on. put it on on on on,                                   dingdingding.


 Engaging in your usual routine of opening up the cabinet under the kitchen sink only to find it has      been BABY  PROOFED with a solid What the thunk? and thunk and pull and RAH. Um, I am            already bent over (no good) and now I gotta calm myself to find a button and push thingy?                  Seriously.  Blood flowing into my brain saying, um perhaps you would be more useful if you              pulled out of this cleaning game and found a tasty, delicious piece of chocolate...?


 Every Yoga Instructor who confuses the right with the left.  Yes. We all know about the other left.     Ha ha. Please stop confusing my little brain.  The only result you will get will be a Knancy Knot in     the corner wondering how many mirrors it would take to make me into tiny eensy teensy decimal.


How many calories are in cereal.

Best Buy

So as I have told you my comp doesn't love me. It's on the Haters Team which is an interesting decision because if you ever played hs basketball with me, let's just say you want me on your team.  So I took it to Best Buy and this is what happened.

Hi diddle dee I am starting my Saturday with the info that me and my comp and various offspringers will be tortured by gleaming devices of varying chrome colors that I cannot afford whilst I wait for a teenager to tell me I have to spend little puddles of cash that sound like they are small and then when you get the bill you realize you are bankrupt.  Here we go!

I hop on the old....COMPUTER... to find the Best Buy.  Follow me?  Click on the phone number.  Make an appointment.  Get the directions for the Best Buy on the website.  OKeedokee.

Drivin' along to the Neshaminy Mall where apparently there is a Best Buy.  The GPS leads my poor, sorry tush to the middle of the parking lot but I don't really see a Best Buy.  And I mean those signs are huge.  Something is amiss.  I call the number -  the same number in my phone where I made the app.  The recording says, Thank you for calling Best Buy at the Neshaminy Mall! so I am like okay, at least I am in the right place.  So then it offers me a bunch of options: press one for mobile devices, press two for a rerun of All in the Family, etc. I press my number for store directions.  A recording says.  Best Buy is located across the street from the Oxford Valley Mall.

Okay now I am confused and clearly need to speak with someone. How to make that happen? I usually press zero till the recording gives up and lo and behold Agent Trent gets on the line.  Agent Trent with the Geek Squad.  So I am like whattup yo and he is like where you at.  So I say are you in the mall or what is the haps?

And he is like, "Oh there is a Best Buy in the mall but it doesn't have a Geek Squad. If you want the Geek Squad you have to go to Fairless Hills."

And I am like.  Um.  So.    Um.  WHAT?  I mean I am not from PA, so this guy might as well be saying "You are at the Marshmallow Pad.  Go to the Fluffy Zone" Again. I say I don't get it I clicked on this and clicked on that and did a whole lotta clicking.  I could be a tap dancer.  And he's like "Yeah when you clicked on the 2 for Geek Squad it transferred you to the Fairless Hills location."

So I point out, quite calmly I might add, uh, that could be a problemo for people like me who try to find your store through various clickings. And he is like, "Yes, I have never had this problem before."

So I say, "Hey If you want to figure out a whole shitload of problems you never thought you had, I am your gal.".

The Breaking of Plates

So  T and H have a half day Lucky me!, and T's behavior chart came back not so excellent. I put him on chore duty, as I was going to give the kiddos a choice of going to the Y for swimming or staying home and relaxing.(puhlease choose relaxing))

So ol HBones decides relaxy taxi thank goodness and here we are,. T goes to the chores pile to the tune of Beethoven's Fifth ,and I am doing the dance of all mommy dances: folding clothes. As usual, you will always find me here.  Actually I could place a robot Mama constantly folding clothes in the study room, as I walk away and do other things. Folding folding folding...

I am in the kitchen now and Ted is emptying the dishwasher.  All of a sudden we hear the sound of the breaking plate.   I am right there so I saw it slip, no big deal, but it did make a very loud sound  Roll back to olden times when mama was just a small girl herself.  She broke a glass and HER mama did not make a big deal out of it.

But Ted automatically starts crying and he says, "I know I am in big trouble." and I just hugged his little crying body and said, "No you're not. You're helping me.  No worries."

Accidents happen, Bloggy. And that's okay.

El

Well, E took her first acting class today.  I think she may be a natural.  She was of course, angry when we got there.  She had her Paw Patrol backpack all ready and set, and I am blanking on exactly what was making her less than delighted at this point.  It could have been several things, but anyway. Rain. The vending machine.  How many puppies she was able to stow away in her bag.  The list goes on and on.

We get there and lo and behold one little girl is waiting and her name is...Eleanor.  Stop everything. The girl is Asian, and two years old so there is a one year age difference.  She had the most spectacular pink outfit on.  I was mildly jealous.

Phew, no worries, she goes by Ellie.  Nobody is losing any fingers or toes today!  And we were waiting on an Ellll...   


liot.  I was like, what is this place? So Elliot and twin sis Katarin (sp?) roll up to the game, and we read a story about a bear.  So then we pretend to be bears for awhile. E is the oldest in the class, and she quickly informs Miss Shelby, "I make my bed." which is true and awesome. 

Miss Shelby heads a line of singing, dancing and so on.  E was right behind Miss Shelby the whole time. Elliot was interested in looking at everyone else, Katarin was definitely on another planet altogether, and poor Ellie could not get it together for more than five minutes at a time. She kept running to the door, crying, and then she would trip and fall and her mom would drag her back to the "fun."

So for the last ten minutes the kids were doing their thing (dealing baby crack) and the moms were acclimating back to adult world (taking off our fake bear paws), and of course I wasn't going to SAY this Bloggy, but the twins were German blondies and they were brought in by a Filipino woman, so I mean I am all like man your husband must have some super dominant genes because the kids are calling her mommy and she is referring to herself as mommy and then at the tail end she is like,


"I feel bad that they call me mommy cause I am just their neighbor. They don't really see their mom. And their au pair doesn't drive."

Word.

HSM

So Ted is doing his homework, and he hollers upstairs, "Helen! Can you help me with my homework?"

My my my. Of course,  Blog, I am offended.  Here I am, all masters degrees in elementary education and ready to roll, but he wants the sis.  Hmpf.  But clearly, he has piqued my curiosity.  So now the stage will unfold downstairs while Mom's eyeballs secretly watch everything from upstairs. 

Verbatim:

Teddy, "What's that stuff when you walk in the hallway?"

Helen pauses. "Oh, Hairy Sticky Marshmallows."

Ted: "Yeeeeah! Wait, why is it hairy again?"

Helen: "Because when you stare at it, you stare at  the other person's hair."

Ted:  "Right."



Um, is that English?

Tony Danza

Okay, so computers have decided not to be my friend and we shall put them on the Haters Team.   That is cool, I can take them.








I think E is acting out a little because I put her in Military Potty Training Boot Camp.  Understood, but it seems like she wants to start defining WHO is the boss. Now, I know I am the boss.  Cause I woke up and had "Boss" tattooed on my forehead.  So I am like that's cool, I have role of boss.  But see, E thinks sometimes SHE should be the boss.  Which is somewhat interesting because she is three.  And if three-year-olds ran the world, apart from all of us probably being much better off, we would have a hard time sauteeing delicious veggies. It's because they can't reach the burners, Bloggy.








Anyway, everything has been a struggle.We had her first swimming lesson last night.  So because usually everything is a free-for-all play as you go, she was like I want on the slides and now.  I was trying to explain that we were here for a lesson, and she was having none of it.  So I was gearing up for a struggle,  but then she saw the kids line up with their little floaties around their waist and of course they are all excited hopping around and one kid is gulping water from the pool and spitting it all over the place (and I am like hey, do you know Ted?), so she takes a small step to the other pool.  And then a couple of others.  And all of a sudden e is in line with the two other kids in "Pike" swimming class, and it is of course, adorable.




And I have to pretend that I am arranging art on the walls while she gets herself settled.  So who is the boss?

E Bunny

Hi, Blog!


Well the news on the streets is...Eleanor gave me TWO stickers for going tinkle in the potty.  And she is so proud of me!


The age gap between the offspringertons is somewhat interesting.


 H  9


T 7.5
(we're almost twins! he says)


Little Baby Bunny Butt just turned 3zers.  


So Helen says in the car:


"As with ALL families of three children, the older one wants to get away from the two littler ones, so the two littler ones can be friends." And I am like...um, I think you are just talking about your own situation, maybe?  As you have no evidence that all families with 3 kiddos do such things?  So basically, H is wanting T to get off her back and become besties with E.  Which is all well and good, but of course if it ever HAPPENS there will be some pretty hell to pay. And E, to her cred, always wants to do whatever H and T have going on and it matters not one little bit whatever that activity is.


So for instance, H and T do various chores around the house.  E wants in. Okay. E's chores look a little "different" than H and T's.  H cleans the cat litter; E makes a small city out of cat litter.  So H and T have the chores where they clean up, and E gets the chores where she messes up everything they just cleaned up. 

But in the name of cuteness, everything is a okay.

Nothing to Hide.

How did everybody do over the holiday weekend?  Is everyone ten pounds heavier like moi?  So I guess I can talk a little bit about potty training.  I am into lists all of a sudden, so let's see what happens here.

I kind of forgot how...naked.. potty training is.  I mean, we are pointing to holes and talking about parts that most people prefer to keep sewn up.  But in order to get the little one to understand you have to talk about all these "words" and "parts" which are totally gross and I'd rather not.  Also you have to pretend to be DELIGHTED at the gross things the body does in its proper place  It's pretty interesting. There are dances and songs and trophies and medals and all sorts of stuff just for pooping. Which, if I remember correctly is a natural act of the body. Talk about the first chapter of Ulysses. JJ was really into his own, well.. you know  and I don't often do this but here you go https://thebaffledkingcomposing.wordpress.com/2012/10/22/so-it-turns-out-james-joyce-was-a-perv/ So I guess we are talking about PLACEMENT.  Hmmm.

Well we all know timing is important.

Eleanor just presented me with gifts of tinkle and poop. Like the Three Wise Men.  At least I am okay with those words. So with all this pomp and circumstance, my question is, how did they do it in the old days before the "Sexual Revolution" of the 70s when it became okay to discuss certain...things.


I love you, Blog.

*no lists!