It's really sad how life keeps right on going. It doesn't stop when we are sick, our kids are sick, when there isn't any money to pay the bills, when we are sad, angry or hurt. We want it to, just for the sake of catching our breath! To wallow in self pity or grief. Or to simply enjoy the moment for longer than what we are able. Pictures allow us to do some of that. So does our memory...if that's still in tact! As we all know, I struggle with that one!
I was reminded last week of the movie Big with Tom Hanks. Why is it that kids ALWAYS want to be older and adults long to be younger? I'm pretty happy with my age...22. I wish I could freeze that. Oh that's right, I have...for 20 years! I really can't complain. No one cares when I do anyway, but the fact of the matter is that I'm happy. Really and truly happy. I look and feel better now than I ever have. I have amazing kids that drive me crazy one minute and melt my heart the next. I have warm, loving family and friends that I am forever grateful to. And a man in my life that absolutely rocks my world. It's this happiness that I wish to bestow on my kids.
Enjoy the moment! Enjoy what you have! Stop trying to have everything that everyone else has. Stop trying to grow up so damn fast! My oldest is headed to 5th grade camp in a few weeks. I'm beside myself! What happened to my baby??? I went in search of her immunization records for her camp paperwork and came across all her baby stuff. First hair cut, first tooth, first birthday, birth announcement, first check up sheet...everything BUT what I needed of course. Where did 11 years go? Why does she want to shave already? Why was I buying her a razor and shaving cream so that she could, and will, harm herself??? Why does she already want to drive and promise me to NEVER get in a car with someone who's been drinking?? Why, why, why! Why can't they be three and then thirty and allow me to spare myself all that nail biting, up all night worrying garbage? I'm a mess already.
Remember when we couldn't wait for our kids to say their first words? Now we want them to just stop talking! Remember when we wanted them to feed themselves? Now we want to stop the bleeding on the grocery bill! Remember when we wanted them to take their first steps? Now we can't get them to stop running through the house and smashing into everything! Remember when we wanted them to go potty on the "big" potty? Well thank the Lord above they learned that!!!!! We wanted them to be just a little "big" not an adolescent who worries about their looks, their clothes, their hair, their make up, who's going to be at the concert that likes them, or who they like! And worse yet, if they have any friends.
I just want their dreams to always stay BIG and their worries to stay small. Thank you Rascal Flatts! I want them to be happy with who they are and remain the wonderful, smart, caring, compassionate people I know deep down they are. If there is one thing that I hope and pray I do right as a parent, because there won't be much, is that I teach them that their self confidence is much more important than how many video games they have, how many Barbies they have, or if ALL their friends are doing it, why can't they?! Happiness stems from self confidence and pride in yourself. No one can ever take that away from you. Unless you let them. I hope they are always as proud of themselves as I am of them.
Blah, blah, blah right?! That's what I'm thinking as I log off to go up and beat them for wasting the water taking VERY LONG showers!!!!! Why do they have to go and wreck my motherly bliss??? Ah well, just another day. No bail money required....YET!!!!!!
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
Boys vs. Girls
I was blatantly reminded of the difference between boys and girls yesterday. Though there were a few not so surprising moments, to say there was stereotypical behavior in my home, is dead on.
Yesterday was beautiful. The sun was shining, the temperature was a balmy 40 degrees, my house was pretty much clean, and the laundry was...well, still washing. Thankfully, my boys decided to go outside to play with their friends, my girls occupied themselves by destroying their room with Polly Pocket and Barbie play, and my oldest daughter went for a bike ride and dog walking adventure. What, oh what, was a mommy with "nothing" to do, do??? I sat my ass down on the couch, turned on the TV, and started flipping channels. Knowing full well that the moment I sat down, the boys would come home hungry, the girls would abandon their naked plastic dolls, and my daughter would bombard me with an "I'm bored" ranting. As luck would have it, or mothers intuition, my little ones deserted the tsunami they created in their room, and snuggled up next to me on the couch.
I'm not a TV watcher. In fact, I only admit to watching the news in the morning (sometimes), Cupcake Wars, and Jersey Shore. Other than that, I don't bother. My children on the other hand know more about what's going on in the world than I do. When we came across the WE network of My Fair Wedding with David Tutera, my girls fell apart. Hands down, this was what we were watching! "Mommy, don't change the channel!!!!", "I want to see them kiss!", "Look at her pretty dress!", and "I always pee when they kiss at the end!"...the last one put me over the edge. All I can do at this point is shake my head. Who were these girls all of a sudden? Clearly not the ones who take on wrestling and beating up their older brother! I was now dealing with Disney fairytale dreamers all wide eyed and sighing. They were making Scarlet Ohara look like a phony at this point.
Well, I suffice to say that my oldest daughter came home and sat glued to the TV. Mind you this is the child who claimed for years that she was NEVER getting married. My boys came home, starving, watched briefly, then proceeded to leave for Wii football. Somewhere in the next six hours, I fed my kids, cleaned the kitchen, showered all of us, made my bed, plopped my boys in front of the "big" TV for the Superbowl, and positioned the three girls in my bed for MORE wedding extravaganza. By 9pm I was wedded out! After watching six hours of weddings I have learned several things.
First, every wedding I've ever been too, including my own, was extremely cheesy. Second, I have learned to NEVER say, "I've seen it all", because I have not. And third, are you kidding me???? When I tell my girlfriend that I've been watching this show, the first thing she reminds me is not to be a hater and ruin it for my girls. Whatever! I want to see these couples in ten years! Then that awful moment comes when I hear the words, "for my wedding I want..." Why, why did God bless me with THREE girls???? Why??? With an 11 year old and two 7 year olds, the competition is already heating up. How or why I did not change the channel to Vegas weddings and How To Elope, is beyond my realm of comprehension at this point. It won't be how am I going to afford college for them, but how am I going to afford an over-the-top, fairytale, dream wedding of the century, for EACH of them now?!
Stupid TV. I should have never turned it on. I should have found something else to clean in the house. I should have NEVER sat down. This is what happens when I get the crazy idea to actually sit for five minutes. Or in this case, six hours! By 9pm my youngest son was done and thankfully, the girls had had enough. Sweet dreams followed for all four of them. Only one child remained awake. My oldest son, glued to the Superbowl, hoping and praying for the Giants to make a comeback, and win the big one. Exhausted, I sat down and snuggled up with him. There was over 12 minutes left in the game, New York was down, and my son was beside himself. This was nice I thought. Just the two of us. No more wedding talk. Pure boy stuff..."mom, I just farted".... Why I get the crazy idea to sit down is incomprehensible to even myself. I can only sigh and roll my eyes... The things we endure for quality time spent with our kids. I would never want to admit it, but in the end, I was glad I sat down. I wouldn't trade yesterday for anything. You can't put a price on knowing you put all of your kids to bed with smiles on their faces and happy thoughts in their heads.
Yesterday was beautiful. The sun was shining, the temperature was a balmy 40 degrees, my house was pretty much clean, and the laundry was...well, still washing. Thankfully, my boys decided to go outside to play with their friends, my girls occupied themselves by destroying their room with Polly Pocket and Barbie play, and my oldest daughter went for a bike ride and dog walking adventure. What, oh what, was a mommy with "nothing" to do, do??? I sat my ass down on the couch, turned on the TV, and started flipping channels. Knowing full well that the moment I sat down, the boys would come home hungry, the girls would abandon their naked plastic dolls, and my daughter would bombard me with an "I'm bored" ranting. As luck would have it, or mothers intuition, my little ones deserted the tsunami they created in their room, and snuggled up next to me on the couch.
I'm not a TV watcher. In fact, I only admit to watching the news in the morning (sometimes), Cupcake Wars, and Jersey Shore. Other than that, I don't bother. My children on the other hand know more about what's going on in the world than I do. When we came across the WE network of My Fair Wedding with David Tutera, my girls fell apart. Hands down, this was what we were watching! "Mommy, don't change the channel!!!!", "I want to see them kiss!", "Look at her pretty dress!", and "I always pee when they kiss at the end!"...the last one put me over the edge. All I can do at this point is shake my head. Who were these girls all of a sudden? Clearly not the ones who take on wrestling and beating up their older brother! I was now dealing with Disney fairytale dreamers all wide eyed and sighing. They were making Scarlet Ohara look like a phony at this point.
Well, I suffice to say that my oldest daughter came home and sat glued to the TV. Mind you this is the child who claimed for years that she was NEVER getting married. My boys came home, starving, watched briefly, then proceeded to leave for Wii football. Somewhere in the next six hours, I fed my kids, cleaned the kitchen, showered all of us, made my bed, plopped my boys in front of the "big" TV for the Superbowl, and positioned the three girls in my bed for MORE wedding extravaganza. By 9pm I was wedded out! After watching six hours of weddings I have learned several things.
First, every wedding I've ever been too, including my own, was extremely cheesy. Second, I have learned to NEVER say, "I've seen it all", because I have not. And third, are you kidding me???? When I tell my girlfriend that I've been watching this show, the first thing she reminds me is not to be a hater and ruin it for my girls. Whatever! I want to see these couples in ten years! Then that awful moment comes when I hear the words, "for my wedding I want..." Why, why did God bless me with THREE girls???? Why??? With an 11 year old and two 7 year olds, the competition is already heating up. How or why I did not change the channel to Vegas weddings and How To Elope, is beyond my realm of comprehension at this point. It won't be how am I going to afford college for them, but how am I going to afford an over-the-top, fairytale, dream wedding of the century, for EACH of them now?!
Stupid TV. I should have never turned it on. I should have found something else to clean in the house. I should have NEVER sat down. This is what happens when I get the crazy idea to actually sit for five minutes. Or in this case, six hours! By 9pm my youngest son was done and thankfully, the girls had had enough. Sweet dreams followed for all four of them. Only one child remained awake. My oldest son, glued to the Superbowl, hoping and praying for the Giants to make a comeback, and win the big one. Exhausted, I sat down and snuggled up with him. There was over 12 minutes left in the game, New York was down, and my son was beside himself. This was nice I thought. Just the two of us. No more wedding talk. Pure boy stuff..."mom, I just farted".... Why I get the crazy idea to sit down is incomprehensible to even myself. I can only sigh and roll my eyes... The things we endure for quality time spent with our kids. I would never want to admit it, but in the end, I was glad I sat down. I wouldn't trade yesterday for anything. You can't put a price on knowing you put all of your kids to bed with smiles on their faces and happy thoughts in their heads.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Money, Money, Money
The birthdays are FINALLY over for a while. Thank goodness! Now I can try to put a band aide on my bleeding credit card. It's absolutely amazing to me how the spending never stops. Something else always comes up. Scientist truly need to get the lead out and find a cure for ALL diseases AND develop a real live money tree. Can you imagine? "Mom, I need gas money!" "Oh sure, honey. Just go grab a $20 off the tree." I hope I live long enough to see both!
For their birthday, my girls wanted to get their ears pierced. In my infinite wisdom I think, "this is a great 'cheap' birthday gift". Not so much. I realize of course that I have twins. What I always fail to remember is that twins means two. Which means double the cost, double the price, double the crap. My cheap idea, or their idea, cost me close to $200 to even get out of the store. That did not include lunch afterward. Granted it was a great day and worth every penny. When the bill comes I may have other feelings.
I suppose I didn't need to spend quite so much. But these are my babies, and I felt so guilty for the pain tears that followed the actual piercing, that I had a hard time saying no. I was remembering back to the tears of my oldest when she got hers done. She was about to chicken out when I told her, "Honey, they got everything out and ready. You can't say no now. Let them just do one ear. If you don't like it, we can go home." Seriously?! One ear?! Now you know I wasn't going to let them do just one ear!!!! Oh the motherly guilt! Nothing ten pairs of earrings, a plastic cell phone that holds lip gloss, and a butterfly jewelry holder can't fix.
You can only imagine my guilt when double the tears fell. Buy the whole store girls, mommy is evil for letting that mean girl stab you! UGH! By the time we left the store, the pain was forgotten and the loot was a plenty. Leave it to my mother to remind me that ear piercing was FREE when I got it done. Something tells me that there was no way we left the store with "free" earrings 30 some years ago... Wait, 12 years ago. I'm ONLY 22. I tend to forget that some days.
The problem with all this piercing business is that my eight year old son now wants his done. Absolutely NOT. First of all, I can't afford it. And second of all, I told him it was inappropriate for little boys to have that done. Not to mention the fact that I'm not sure who would die first, me or my son, at the hands of my ex. I told said child not to EVER repeat what I was about to say, but if he just happen to come home one day with one, when he was 18, I would not be upset. This was all contingent on the fact that he owned his own home at the time. Considering he wants to own a bank when he "grows up" may make all of this a possibility and you may actually see me eat my own words. That would be my luck!
No more piercing, no more money, no more, no more, no more. I'm out of all of it. Including my mind. Child labor laws mean nothing in this house. These kids have to get to work! After all, mommy needs a pedicure so that I have good feet to keep running after the little heathens! And yes, it does always come back to me. Happy mommy equals happy children.
For their birthday, my girls wanted to get their ears pierced. In my infinite wisdom I think, "this is a great 'cheap' birthday gift". Not so much. I realize of course that I have twins. What I always fail to remember is that twins means two. Which means double the cost, double the price, double the crap. My cheap idea, or their idea, cost me close to $200 to even get out of the store. That did not include lunch afterward. Granted it was a great day and worth every penny. When the bill comes I may have other feelings.
I suppose I didn't need to spend quite so much. But these are my babies, and I felt so guilty for the pain tears that followed the actual piercing, that I had a hard time saying no. I was remembering back to the tears of my oldest when she got hers done. She was about to chicken out when I told her, "Honey, they got everything out and ready. You can't say no now. Let them just do one ear. If you don't like it, we can go home." Seriously?! One ear?! Now you know I wasn't going to let them do just one ear!!!! Oh the motherly guilt! Nothing ten pairs of earrings, a plastic cell phone that holds lip gloss, and a butterfly jewelry holder can't fix.
You can only imagine my guilt when double the tears fell. Buy the whole store girls, mommy is evil for letting that mean girl stab you! UGH! By the time we left the store, the pain was forgotten and the loot was a plenty. Leave it to my mother to remind me that ear piercing was FREE when I got it done. Something tells me that there was no way we left the store with "free" earrings 30 some years ago... Wait, 12 years ago. I'm ONLY 22. I tend to forget that some days.
The problem with all this piercing business is that my eight year old son now wants his done. Absolutely NOT. First of all, I can't afford it. And second of all, I told him it was inappropriate for little boys to have that done. Not to mention the fact that I'm not sure who would die first, me or my son, at the hands of my ex. I told said child not to EVER repeat what I was about to say, but if he just happen to come home one day with one, when he was 18, I would not be upset. This was all contingent on the fact that he owned his own home at the time. Considering he wants to own a bank when he "grows up" may make all of this a possibility and you may actually see me eat my own words. That would be my luck!
No more piercing, no more money, no more, no more, no more. I'm out of all of it. Including my mind. Child labor laws mean nothing in this house. These kids have to get to work! After all, mommy needs a pedicure so that I have good feet to keep running after the little heathens! And yes, it does always come back to me. Happy mommy equals happy children.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Only A Mothers Love
Just when I thought I hit rock bottom with all the things I have put up with with my kids, I am ambushed with yet another of life's "are you kidding me" moments. As moms we put up with SO much. I have been peed on, pooped on, barfed on, spit on, nose wiped on, sneezed on, coughed on, you name it, the bodily fluid that comes out of my children, has at one point or another, landed on me. And as a mom, we just shake our heads and take it all. I will admit, it certainly was a lot cuter when they were babies. Now, it's just plain gross.
It's in our nature to help our babies, no matter what. But at some point in life I have to ask, where do I get to draw the line??? Please tell me I do. Because boys are gross. Plain and simple. My boys are into sports. My nine year old lives and breaths EVERY sport. My eight year old just goes along with his big brother and enjoys whatever he's playing at the time. I'm convinced if I didn't make him play something, he'd sit in his closet building Lego's the rest of his life.
Currently the boys play hockey. I'm thrilled. They play baseball in the spring/summer and that's fine. But as far as I'm concerned, baseball can be so brutally boring that I want to rip my eyes out. At least with hockey, there's constant action. However, as we all know, with hockey comes A LOT OF SWEAT. With a lot of sweat, comes a lot of stink. When my own father, who also played hockey, said, "Jules, you need to wash the boys hockey stuff", you know there's an issue.
I'm hear to tell you two things. First, that commercial for Febreze, is a big fat lie. That product covers up the stench for a short amount of time. Underneath it all, whatever you're spraying, still stinks. Second, washing a jock should NEVER be a woman's job. Nor a mom's for that matter! I literally wanted rubber gloves when I had to take the cups out. Not only did I have to remove them to wash their jock shorts, but I had to touch them AGAIN to put them back in!!! I drew the line right then and there. I have put up with as much as I possibly can with my kids. But no where, in ANY parent handbook, does it say that touching, washing, or even looking at jocks or cups is the responsibility of a mom.
I understand the value of the cup. And I get that the jock holds all their junk in place. BUT, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew! I would never expect my son's or my boyfriend to wash or handle my bra's. Let's face it, in reality they are the same thing. However, most bra's are pretty and inviting. Why? Because they hold boobs. Boys like boobs. Jocks and cups? Not so pretty. Stinky and gross actually. And why? Because they're used in sports. I'm absolutely sure I don't need to say any more. In fact, I need to actually go bleach my hands AGAIN. AND, get my spoons to stab my eyes out. UGH!!!!
It's in our nature to help our babies, no matter what. But at some point in life I have to ask, where do I get to draw the line??? Please tell me I do. Because boys are gross. Plain and simple. My boys are into sports. My nine year old lives and breaths EVERY sport. My eight year old just goes along with his big brother and enjoys whatever he's playing at the time. I'm convinced if I didn't make him play something, he'd sit in his closet building Lego's the rest of his life.
Currently the boys play hockey. I'm thrilled. They play baseball in the spring/summer and that's fine. But as far as I'm concerned, baseball can be so brutally boring that I want to rip my eyes out. At least with hockey, there's constant action. However, as we all know, with hockey comes A LOT OF SWEAT. With a lot of sweat, comes a lot of stink. When my own father, who also played hockey, said, "Jules, you need to wash the boys hockey stuff", you know there's an issue.
I'm hear to tell you two things. First, that commercial for Febreze, is a big fat lie. That product covers up the stench for a short amount of time. Underneath it all, whatever you're spraying, still stinks. Second, washing a jock should NEVER be a woman's job. Nor a mom's for that matter! I literally wanted rubber gloves when I had to take the cups out. Not only did I have to remove them to wash their jock shorts, but I had to touch them AGAIN to put them back in!!! I drew the line right then and there. I have put up with as much as I possibly can with my kids. But no where, in ANY parent handbook, does it say that touching, washing, or even looking at jocks or cups is the responsibility of a mom.
I understand the value of the cup. And I get that the jock holds all their junk in place. BUT, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew! I would never expect my son's or my boyfriend to wash or handle my bra's. Let's face it, in reality they are the same thing. However, most bra's are pretty and inviting. Why? Because they hold boobs. Boys like boobs. Jocks and cups? Not so pretty. Stinky and gross actually. And why? Because they're used in sports. I'm absolutely sure I don't need to say any more. In fact, I need to actually go bleach my hands AGAIN. AND, get my spoons to stab my eyes out. UGH!!!!
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Endless Humor...
I was bored one night and looking for something funny to read on my Kindle when I came across this book called Go The F@#k To Sleep. I kid you not, I just finished screaming at my kids to do just that when I found the book. I honestly thought there was a camera in my house. Coincidence? I think NOT!
I immediately bought the book. I was a tad disappointed that it wasn't longer than it was. But, pleasantly surprised at how insanely accurate it depicted bed time with children. Who was this man that wrote this? Was he hiding in my house watching me? I was starting to get a really creepy feeling. Amidst laughing hysterically!
This book not only makes you feel like you are not alone as a parent of a child who will not go to sleep, but it also makes you feel like laughing at someone else for having the same problem! I will absolutely recommend this book to EVERY parent I know. Because lets face it, we've all been there. Just one more hug, one more potty break, one more story, one more kiss, one more question to answer, one more, one more, one more!!!! AHHHHHHHH It's maddening!
It wasn't until yesterday that I learned how popular this book is. My sitter stopped by to say, "you have to read this! AND listen on YouTube to Samuel L. Jackson narrate it!!!" Needless to say, I thought I was one up on her by already reading the book. However, when I went to YouTube today I realized that I was WAY behind! Tons of celebrities are narrating it. Samuel L. Jackson was on David Letterman reading some of it back in June for crying out loud! All parents should write books! We have endless stories to tell! Kids provide so much humor on a daily basis! Even when we want to choke their little eyes out.
For years I thought that my kids were put on this earth to drive me absolutely insane. Which some days there is NOT enough alcohol to cope with them. But when you actually sit down and take a long hard look, all they really are is curious and honest. As adults we take things that they say or do as irritating or frustrating or just plain rude. In actuality they are just calling it like they see it. Being able to sit back and laugh at either yourself for being ridiculous or being able to actually laugh at what they say or do is worth it's weight in gold to a child. Now if I could just remember this at 9pm when I all I want is for them To Go The F@#k To Sleep!!!!!!!
I immediately bought the book. I was a tad disappointed that it wasn't longer than it was. But, pleasantly surprised at how insanely accurate it depicted bed time with children. Who was this man that wrote this? Was he hiding in my house watching me? I was starting to get a really creepy feeling. Amidst laughing hysterically!
This book not only makes you feel like you are not alone as a parent of a child who will not go to sleep, but it also makes you feel like laughing at someone else for having the same problem! I will absolutely recommend this book to EVERY parent I know. Because lets face it, we've all been there. Just one more hug, one more potty break, one more story, one more kiss, one more question to answer, one more, one more, one more!!!! AHHHHHHHH It's maddening!
It wasn't until yesterday that I learned how popular this book is. My sitter stopped by to say, "you have to read this! AND listen on YouTube to Samuel L. Jackson narrate it!!!" Needless to say, I thought I was one up on her by already reading the book. However, when I went to YouTube today I realized that I was WAY behind! Tons of celebrities are narrating it. Samuel L. Jackson was on David Letterman reading some of it back in June for crying out loud! All parents should write books! We have endless stories to tell! Kids provide so much humor on a daily basis! Even when we want to choke their little eyes out.
For years I thought that my kids were put on this earth to drive me absolutely insane. Which some days there is NOT enough alcohol to cope with them. But when you actually sit down and take a long hard look, all they really are is curious and honest. As adults we take things that they say or do as irritating or frustrating or just plain rude. In actuality they are just calling it like they see it. Being able to sit back and laugh at either yourself for being ridiculous or being able to actually laugh at what they say or do is worth it's weight in gold to a child. Now if I could just remember this at 9pm when I all I want is for them To Go The F@#k To Sleep!!!!!!!
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Boobs
I figured the title alone would get your attention. I mean who doesn't love boobs? My kids, all of them, are obsessed with them. It's actually quite strange. But I suppose when you're inundated with them daily, you tend to be a tad curious.
There is zero privacy in my home. ZERO. Locks mean absolutely NOTHING on doors. In fact, a locked door is an invitation to beat the door down or find ANY object to shove in and unlock it. My mother used to say to me whenever I was losing it, "just go lock yourself in the bathroom." Yeah right! If I wanted peace, that's the last place I'd hide. After five kids, a dog, and cats, I have lost all the dignity I have ever held. Everything is a free for all at my house.
My oldest daughter is TRYING very hard to retain whatever she has left herself. She's 11 and at that stage where everything is private. Fine! I envy her attempt at some. I may even be bordering on jealous. I'm not sure how she did it. Did she beat her brothers and sisters into submission? or did her screaming at them alone scare them off? I'm not sure. Either way. It seems to be working for her. Sigh...
Let me put it this way. We are the house of naked. My friends have always said I'd take my clothes off anywhere, anytime. So it's no wonder my children are the same. I suppose there should be a point where it's considered inappropriate to be parading around with nothing on. I've learned to just accept it. Fighting it only creates more problems. For example, the second you start to take your clothes off, it never fails, someone comes around the corner. The second you sit down to go to the toilet, someone comes in. The second you get on the phone, someone has a thousand questions. It's never ending. It's like a signal goes off somewhere in the house and everyone comes running. I've even been in the shower and my son and his friend came waltzing in. Why? Why? Why?
So when my daughters got off the bus the other day and said my nine year old son was looking at BIG BOOBIES on his friend's Nook, I barely batted an eye. First of all, he's nine. If he weren't curious about boobs, I'd be concerned. Second, with a mom, a house full of sisters, and naked Barbies everywhere, it's hard not to see them. You'd think he'd be bored with them already. My boyfriend of course reminded me that boobs are NEVER boring. How did I handle it? Well first of all I laughed. Which of course embarrassed the hell out of him. Then I told him that I wasn't mad, that it was perfectly natural to be curious. Finally, the adult in me popped out and said, "where did he get the pictures?" Turns out they were in a magazine that his dad had subscribed to. UGH, figures! Damn bus! But what can you do? I get running magazines with all kinds of girls half dressed in spandex. I can't imagine it was Playboy, but who knows. I just reminded him that I wasn't mad, that it was OK, but that if he got caught on the bus looking at them he'd be in a lot of trouble. So knock it off! He smiled and walked away.
For as long as I live, I will never understand boys and their obsession with boobs. Then again, it's my daughters too! "OOOOO look! She had big boobies!" I suppose when you're six, all the boobies you see are BIG! Ah well, chalk it off to yet another of life's funny moments. Please, please don't let me forget this! I can't wait to remind ALL of them of these stories, in front of their own children! Isn't it funny how life always comes full circle?? MHHHHHHHH!!!
There is zero privacy in my home. ZERO. Locks mean absolutely NOTHING on doors. In fact, a locked door is an invitation to beat the door down or find ANY object to shove in and unlock it. My mother used to say to me whenever I was losing it, "just go lock yourself in the bathroom." Yeah right! If I wanted peace, that's the last place I'd hide. After five kids, a dog, and cats, I have lost all the dignity I have ever held. Everything is a free for all at my house.
My oldest daughter is TRYING very hard to retain whatever she has left herself. She's 11 and at that stage where everything is private. Fine! I envy her attempt at some. I may even be bordering on jealous. I'm not sure how she did it. Did she beat her brothers and sisters into submission? or did her screaming at them alone scare them off? I'm not sure. Either way. It seems to be working for her. Sigh...
Let me put it this way. We are the house of naked. My friends have always said I'd take my clothes off anywhere, anytime. So it's no wonder my children are the same. I suppose there should be a point where it's considered inappropriate to be parading around with nothing on. I've learned to just accept it. Fighting it only creates more problems. For example, the second you start to take your clothes off, it never fails, someone comes around the corner. The second you sit down to go to the toilet, someone comes in. The second you get on the phone, someone has a thousand questions. It's never ending. It's like a signal goes off somewhere in the house and everyone comes running. I've even been in the shower and my son and his friend came waltzing in. Why? Why? Why?
So when my daughters got off the bus the other day and said my nine year old son was looking at BIG BOOBIES on his friend's Nook, I barely batted an eye. First of all, he's nine. If he weren't curious about boobs, I'd be concerned. Second, with a mom, a house full of sisters, and naked Barbies everywhere, it's hard not to see them. You'd think he'd be bored with them already. My boyfriend of course reminded me that boobs are NEVER boring. How did I handle it? Well first of all I laughed. Which of course embarrassed the hell out of him. Then I told him that I wasn't mad, that it was perfectly natural to be curious. Finally, the adult in me popped out and said, "where did he get the pictures?" Turns out they were in a magazine that his dad had subscribed to. UGH, figures! Damn bus! But what can you do? I get running magazines with all kinds of girls half dressed in spandex. I can't imagine it was Playboy, but who knows. I just reminded him that I wasn't mad, that it was OK, but that if he got caught on the bus looking at them he'd be in a lot of trouble. So knock it off! He smiled and walked away.
For as long as I live, I will never understand boys and their obsession with boobs. Then again, it's my daughters too! "OOOOO look! She had big boobies!" I suppose when you're six, all the boobies you see are BIG! Ah well, chalk it off to yet another of life's funny moments. Please, please don't let me forget this! I can't wait to remind ALL of them of these stories, in front of their own children! Isn't it funny how life always comes full circle?? MHHHHHHHH!!!
Monday, January 9, 2012
Barbie and Ken
No words can can express my shock when I walked into my room, years ago, and found Barbie and Ken in a very compromising position. My immediate response was to find my camera. Mind you it was hard to take a picture through all the tears and laughter. I wanted to make sure I captured this moment to remind my children of the hell they put me through. Or maybe what I put THEM through! Surely they learned this somewhere...
For years I thought I was the only one subject to such a sight. That was until last night. Just after 11pm my cell phone chimed. What idiot wanted me at this hour you ask? None other than my girlfriend from Arizona. Because of the time change, I slipped her a small break. Curiosity had me, so I grabbed my phone to see what she wanted. I was met with a picture of Barbie and Ken partially clothed, laying down, with a cat between his legs and his hand on her boob. The message that followed said, "not sure where daughter learned this. Was clearly NOT from her mom and daddy!"
Naturally I was quick to respond with my own photo and a message stating, "not sure where they learned it either!" We both agreed that our "friends" the whores taught them! After a half hour of laughter and another glance at her photo, I was absolutely convinced that her daughter had indeed learn from her parents. Being the wonderful, honest friend that I am, I pointed out the obvious. The cat. Had it not been for the cat strategically placed between the legs of Ken, I would have never thought twice. I asked her where the dog and the fish were in the whole scheme of things? Or her husbands sleep apnea mask? Ah romance....WHERE????? Gone, gone, gone.
I listen to the morning shows when I sit down with my coffee to write. If I have to hear one more sex therapist say that couples should schedule dates, romance, or sex I may actually hurl my coffee mug at them. Why? Because unfortunately they're right. How sad is it that as adults we have to sneak around like crazy sex starved teenagers just to get a little action? If I give my boyfriend a kiss in front of my kids they fall apart with a HUGE "EW MOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!" Even a hug has them snickering. Sad, truly sad. That is until you twist it around! If there is one thing I can do, and do well, it's find some humor in the mundane.
Remember when you used to sneak around as a teenager? Making out in the bathroom at a party. Parking in the pouring rain on an old dirt road? Asking some random hot guy to go home with you? Oh wait! That was my "friend". The point is, it was fun! It was risky and it felt good! Why not sneak around with your hubby or boyfriend? My boyfriend and I do it all the time. And guess what? I haven't had this much fun since I was a teenager! Neither has he! Maybe those crazy therapist do know what they're talking about. Maybe they don't. But this time I'm listening! AND taking notes. I mean honestly, what's the worse that can happen??? Another Barbie and Ken show? Or getting caught in the act? Whatever! I'm not going to sweat it. Believe me, with five kids I have no doubt in my mind that at some point I'm going to go, "EW!!!!" and have a good snicker too! I said before that the world would be a whole hell of a lot happier if we all got out our old photos. Well guess what? The world would be a whole hell of a lot happier if we all stopped worrying about what everyone, including our kids, thought and just had some fun! Act stupid, be crazy, laugh, hug, and make out like crazy! Not only does it make you smile but it makes you feel good about yourself! More importantly, good old Barbie and Ken won't be the ONLY ones having the fun!
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