Spank the Elf

I'm sure most of you know that it's that time of year again for the Elf on the Shelf. This is wonderful for the kids because they get really excited and it makes them behave.  However, it does have its down side.

 

 

Grace goes to school excited that Chippy is back and can't wait to tell all of her friends.  When she gets there she hears all of the other kids talk about the naughty things their elves have been doing while they sleep. 

 

One elf rolled the Christmass tree in toilet paper.

 

 

 

Another elf had a marshmallow fight with other toys.

One elf even made snow angels on the counter with flour.

 

 

After hearing about all of the antics of these other elves, this is what she wants to know:

 

Grace: "Mommy, why doesn't Chippy do the things all of my friends' elves are doing?"

 

Me: "Baby, Chippy didn't do any of those naughty things in the movie. Why would he do them at our house?"

 

Grace (after a bit of thought): "Yeah, but why does he do it at their house and not at ours?"

 

Me: "I think Chippy knows that if he did those things at our house he would get a spanking and he knows we don't act that way."

 

 Grace: "Mmmmm, ok."

 

The next day Grace goes to school and the elves are once again a subject of conversation. After the other kids tell everyone what their elves did, my daughter pipes in with:

 

"Your elf should know better than to do all of those naughty things...he needs a spanking!"

 

Fabulous! Now my child has gone back to school and told all of her friends that the Mother of the Year said their elves need spankings.  So to that I say,

 

"Damn you, all of you Pinterest moms, damn you!"

At least I didn't blow up the church

As some of you may know, my husband's uncle passed away last week. So this weekend, his aunt wanted the family to go to their church. This is a little country, Baptist church with about 30 people in the congregation.  We walk in the door, Grace walks straight up to the first row and sits down. Apparently, she didn't get the memo that we're Episcopalian:
1. We sit in the back.
2. We lay low in the Baptist church, because they frown upon our ways.
3. Tread cautiously as our Whiskopalian butts may just blow up the church when we walk through the front door.

During the singing part of the service, Grace walks her little butt up to the front. After the song is over, she asks the preacher if she can sing a song. At this point, I'm pretty sure an "Oh, shit" slipped out of my mouth. Now I'm looking down silently chanting "Please don't sing Red Solo Cup. Please don't sing Red Solo Cup. They will burn me at the stake if my 4 year old gets up there and sings Red Solo Cup."

Luckily, she sang a song she learned at school. This is one of the few times I am thankful that her school is overly religious.

When a hunter has daughters

This weekend Scott had some things to get done on his deer stands before hunting season starts. We went out to the country, hopped on the four wheelers and headed to the woods. We're riding around putting out corn, checking for signs of deer, etc. As we're driving Aubrey starts talking about hunting.

 

Aubrey: "Daddy, I'm going to hunt this year and I need a gun like you."

Scott: "You are? You want to go deer hunting with me this year?"

Aubrey: "No, I don't want to hunt deer."

Scott: "Well, then what do you want to hunt? Turkey? Duck?"

Aubrey: "No, I want to hunt alligators, sharks and snakes."

Scott: "Really? Is that all?"

Aubrey: "Mmmm. Maybe some lions and tigers, too."

At this point Scott is getting pretty excited that his daughter wants to take on these big, bad animals. I think his chest was puffed out a little bit more than usual.

Our next stop was Scott's new deer stand where he needed to install the windows.  We pull up to his new deer stand and Grace says:

"Daddy, your new deer stand is sooooo pretty. I love the way you decorated it."

Well, at least there's hope for one of them.

Screw Hunger Games, We Have Pooping Games

As any mother knows, there is no such thing as private time. I rarely get a chance to go to the bathroom by myself.  And let's be honest, I'm usually doing it with a child on my lap.

Well last week I was home with Aubrey and I had to go to the bathroom. Aubrey decided she wanted to play a game while I was going to the bathroom. She would open the door and roar and I would shriek like I was scared. Aubrey would then close the door and the game would start over.  She thought this was hysterical and this went on for the duration.

Once I was done, I decided to play a trick on Aubrey. When she closed the door, I got up and hid behind the door. Aubrey opens the door and:

Aubrey: "Rooaaarrrr!......Mommy? Mommy!"

She runs over to the potty and looks in.

Aubrey: "Mommy, did you fall in? Are you in there, Mommy?"

Me: "Boo!!!"

Aubrey: "Mommy, you scared me. I thought you fell in the potty."

I'll just report myself to DHS

Well, it turns out history does repeat itself. When I was little, I was BAD! Imagine that, right? Anyway, one day I was in the grocery store with my mom, being a brat, and she had enough. She spanked me in the store and two little old ladies "Tsk, tsk" my mom for spanking my sweet, adorable, very much needed, ass.  Fast forward 33 years and now I'm the mom.

Last night I pick the girls up from school and took them with me to the grocery store, as usual. Grace started giving me a hard time in the car over a skunk. Yes, a skunk. I had no idea what to call the stuff they sprayed and/or who they spray when threatened. I told her to ask Daddy when we got home and the rest of the way all I heard was I didn't know anything and Daddy knows everything. Even though that got old, I couldn't really argue when it's over a skunk.

In the grocery store, Grace kept this up. She would ask me something I would give her an answer. Then she would tell me I was mistaken and that she was going to ask Daddy when we got home because he would know.

Finally, we're on the last aisle and Grace asks for something. I told her no, she gets out of the car buggy and spanks me on the butt. That was it, I had enough. I caught her by the arm, put my knee up, put her over my knee and spanked her little bottom. Told her to get back in the car and not to say another word.

Then Aubrey chimes in. "Mommy, don't do that to Grace. You scared me."

Before I can even answer the lady behind me pipes in with "Well, that scared me, too. It's not nice to give spankings."

There were a million things flying around my head to say to that lady. The only thing I could come up with that I figured would shut her up and make her butt out was:

"Here, I am happy to let you use my phone if you would like to report me to DHS."

And I got the reaction I was looking for:

     1) from the lady-Total State of Shock

     2) from Grace- not another problem from her for the rest of the night.

Stranded at Peter Pan

This weekend we went to NOLA to visit the family. Saturday evening my cousin's 7 year old was a lost boy in Peter Pan. Grace really wanted to go, but Mommy was too tired from staying out late the night before (Mother of the Year). My cousin said that she could go with them and she would bring Grace home after the play. Perfect!

They get home from the play and we hear all about Kora's make-up, Capt. Hook, the crocodile, etc. To say the least, I had one very excited 4 year old. She runs in the other room to play and then we hear the REAL story from my cousin.

1.  Grace knew that Capt. Hook and the crocodile were real. She didn't like them one bit.

2. Wendy's make-up was beautiful, but Kora's was ugly. It was just dirt.

3. Grace wanted to know why she couldn't get on stage and fly like Peter Pan and Wendy.

4. As soon as Kora came on stage, Grace (while standing and waving her arms like she's flagging down a rescue plane):

"Kora! KORA! KOORRRAAAA!!!!  It's Grace, your cousin! I'm right here, KORA!"

 

Safe to say, my child successfully managed to upstage the entire cast of Peter Pan.

 

 

Follow up to the Target escalator incident

The other day a friend of mine, whose parenting style is right up there with mine posts this on FB:

Taking a poll for anyone who has ever been to Target on Vets: Yes or No, is it ok leave ur child in the basket while it goes up that thing and you are on the escalator?

 

As you can imagine there were a ton of no's and there's even a sign that tells you that, etc. However, there were a few that shares our sense of humor and those comments were:

 

1. As long as they are buckled.

 

 

2. I tried to send him up, but my wife flipped out.

 

3. We need to set that up on the tv show What Would You Do?

 

4. Hell yes! It's a free amusement ride!

 



If it comes with a warning sign; it's probably FUN!

For those of you who have never been to the Target in Metairie or another two story Target, they have an escalator for shopping carts. This allows you to change levels while keeping everything in the basket. Well, maybe not everything.

 

One day in NOLA, my mom and I went on a Target run with Grace. I was about 7 months pregnant which would make Grace roughly 17 months at the time, so of course she was in the shopping cart seat.  I probably even had it covered which, let's be honest, I don't think ever happened with Aubrey. After we finish with the 1st floor, we head to the second floor. Mom and I are in full conversation and not paying a bit of attention as we get on the escalator with Grace still in the shopping cart...of course. I have no idea who caught it; it may have been mom, me, a screaming Grace or another customer who was actually paying attention. We got her out before she went up the escalator, but it was a close call. Which is probably the reason for the sign. So here we go again, with yours truly as the Mother of the Year.

 

 

 

 



I was bred to be the Mother of the Year

After reading some of my stories, it made me realize I was bred to be the Mother of the Year since I was young. A little background on how it all started; my father was born and raised in Magee, MS in a typical Southern Baptist household. He moved to New Orleans where he met and married my Yankee mother and raised my brother and me there.

One weekend when I was about 3-4 years old, we were at my grandparents house in Magee watching the Saints game. Remember this is circa 1979-80 and the Saints SUCKED! The entire game my father is saying things like "Shoot!", "Come on, Saints!", etc.  He was doing his best not curse and raise all kinds of hell. I guess it was starting to get bad; I took notice and tried to help.

Me: "Dad, do you want me to get you a God damn beer out of the fridge to make you feel better?"

At this point I'm pretty sure my grandmother hit the floor.

Best quote...EVER!

Sunday my neighbor came over to meet my gay husband, Aaron, who was in town for a long weekend. For those of you who know him, you know drinking is always in store. For those of you who don't know him, non-stop drinking is always in store.

We're at the house watching the Saints game (Who Dat!), when Scott asks our daughter to grab him and Mr. Aaron a beer. Grace brought Aaron a beer and Scott a water. All of the adults were a little confused by this. So Scott tells Grace that he wanted a beer not a bottle of water. Grace goes back into the kitchen and returns with a beer this time.

A minute later Aubrey comes into the room and goes over to Scott. She looks at the table where his beer and the bottle of water are sitting; she picks up the bottle of water, looks at Scott with a confused look on her face and asks "What's this?"

Now, do I have well trained children or what? Beat that keg stand baby dad!

Outsmarted by a 4 year old

The other weekend we took the girls to Muscadine Jubilee, a festival in Pelahatchie where my husband grew up. Bands play throughout the day, but they allow local kids to sing while the next band sets up. While one band was setting up a girl about 10 years old was the entertainment. Grace Morgan saw that little girl singing and it took everything she had not to snatch that microphone out of her hand and take over. She said next year that she was going to be up there.

A couple of days later we were driving to school and Grace started telling knock-knock jokes. Let me explain that her jokes aren't really jokes. She just uses it to get whoever's attention to say what she wants.

Grace: "Knock-knock"

Me: "Who's there?"

Grace: "Gracie really wants to sing on stage at Muscadine."

Me: "Ok, baby. We'll see what we can do."

Grace: "Knock-knock."

Me: "Who's there?"

Grace: "Gracie really wants to ride a horse."

Me: "What if you could only choose one thing; singing at Muscadine or riding a horse? Which one would it be?"

Grace: "Knock-knock"

Me: "Who's there?

Grace: "Grace really wants to ride a horse on stage while singing at Muscadine!"

Keg Stand Baby

I'm sure most of you have seen this picture/story, if not here you go. I was told about this story from many people the day it hit the news I think for 2 reasons:

     1) They deserve my coveted Parent of the Year Award.
     2) I went to ASU.

The first thing I did was go online to check it out and found a picture that had a close up of the nozzle where it's apparent this baby was not actually drinking. With the father obviously laughing, people looking on smiling and taking pictures this all points to a joke.  Is this funny? I think so. Was it the wrong place and time? Yes. Had this been in the backyard with only family and friends, that understand it was a joke. It would have been more appropriate and we would have never heard about it.

The other thing that was mentioned in several stories was:
    
     "Why did they even bring their kids tailgating? This is inapporiate."

Apparently, none of these people have ever been to The Grove at Ole Miss.

                (Kids playing football at The Grove)


Tailgating is what you make of it, just like Mardi Gras. There are areas that are family friendly without keg stands or women flashing their boobs. Growing up we loved tailgating. All the kids played football with our friends, it was exciting and FUN! Like Mardi Gras, I bring my children every year. We don't go to Bourbon St. We go to St. Charles Ave with a million other families. Where the kids catch beads, stuffed animals, frisbees, and all kinds of other crap they love and I slowly throw out during the year.

      (Families at Mardi Gras. Not a pair of boobs in sight.)

One of the things I say in the About section of my blog is that this is to make you feel better about your parenting skills. The stories I tell are true, on occasion embellished, but usually not. Yes, I drink. Yes, I bring a coffee mug with wine in it to places in the evening that do not serve alcohol because Jackson does not serve alcohol everywhere like most other cities. This is no different than me having a glass of wine with dinner. I do not drive anywhere near the legal limit without my children in the car, so I certainly don't do it with them in the car. Just like I bring my children tailgating and to Mardi Gras. We are their parents. It is our choice. If that does not work for your family or you don't like it; that is fine. If you think my stories are inappropriate, don't read them. I do not pretend to be the perfect parent, because I'm not and no one is.  I know who I am. I am not perfect. I am very aware of my strenghts and weaknesses and own them 200%. I use humor in my parenting style and hopefully my blog and posts make you feel better as a parent because that is it's sole purpose...to entertain.  For those who do find my stories funny, you will probably find this funny, too:

If not, then I believe the Baby Center blog is more your style and I hope you enjoy it.

Wonder Woman Moves for Wine

Friday night we were hanging out at my neighbor's house. This is a win-win for me. Her kids are 10 and 13 while mine are 2 and 4. My girls absolutely adore her 10 year old daughter and she loves to "babysit." So the kids are all taken care of while the grown ups can sit around, talk and drink (told you it was a win-win.)  If this is not the first time you've read my stories, you are well aware that my kids are trained to get beers out of the fridge. They are not allowed to get me wine yet, because they are still too little for that. Right now we're mastering pouring milk without spilling, so we're only on step 2. Wine is down the road a bit.

While we're sitting there drinking her 13 year old son comes through the living room, heading towards the kitchen and I ask him to pour me another glass of wine. She leaps off the couch, grabs my glass, and says "That's ok, I'll get it." Her moves were quite impressive. If she had a cape and a crown, she could have beat Wonder Woman's ass; wrist bands or no wrist bands. At this point I am in a total state of confusion. She comes back with my wine and sits down. I am looking at her like she's from Mars. And here we go:

Me: "What was that all about?"

Her: "What?"

Me: "Your Wonder Woman moves."

Her: "Wonder Woman moves?"

Me: "When I asked him to get me a glass of wine."

Her: "I've never asked my kids to get me a beer or pour me a glass of wine."

Me (look of TOTAL astonishment): "Seriously?!!?"

Her: "Mmm-hmm."

Me: "Isn't that why you had kids?"

Obviously, that is not the only reason you have kids, but it's definitely a perk. I just couldn't get over the fact that at 10 and 13 they have never gotten a beer or poured a glass of wine.  I think my grandfather taught me the art of pouring beer from a keg at age 4 or 5. All I know is her kids will need to do some serious training before they go off to college.

Maybe she's born with it, maybe it's manipulation

I am convinced that girls are born manipulaters and master these skills throughout their life. Now let's understand I'm not saying they do this to be mean or hurtful (well, most of them anyway.) They do this to get what they want, when they want it.

Right now we are in the process of potty training Aubrey. Yesterday was the first day we took her out only in her panties. We went potty before we left the house. Then we went to my husband's bank to meet him. I asked if she had to go again, she said no. We left and went to eat. I took her to the potty right after we ordered. We ate lunch and I took her again before we left. (Needless to say, I spent a lot of time in the potty yesterday.) Then we went to run 2 errands before going back to get my car at the bank. We get to the bank and I ask her if she needs to go potty. She says no. So we say good-bye to my husband in the parking lot and I start to load Aubrey up in my car. At this point she says "Mommy, I need go potty." I am so excited because this is the first time she has said it without me asking her. I get her out of the car and we walk into the bank. I go left to the bathroom and she goes right. I call her and tell her the potty is this way. She is not paying any attention to me. She is making a bee line to the jar of lollipops. She grabs 2 lollipops; 1 for her and 1 for Grace (yeah, right!)

Aubrey with lollipops in tow, we head to the bathroom. I get her in there and she says "Mommy, I not go potty. I just open this."

And the score at the end of the day is:

     Mommy

 

 

 

Aubrey

 

 

                                          

 

Road Rage at 2 yrs. old

I'm pretty sure Aubrey is going to grow up to be a NYC taxi cab driver. At only 2 she has to be the most impatient backseat/carseat driver ever. If we are stopped at a red light she'll say "Gooooo, Mama!"  I explained to her that I can't go because the light is red and I have to wait for it to turn green. Now as soon as the light turns green she'll yell "Mama, it's green! Go! Go! Goooooo!" She gets this out of her mouth faster than a NYC taxi cab driver can blow his horn. It's absolutely amazing!

Her new pet peave is being stuck behind a car that is going slow. She sits up in her car seat, looking around the front seat to see what's holding us up.  When she figures out it's a car in front of us she'll yell "Come on, buddy! Get out of the way!" or "Let's go people!"  When we finally get moving she'll sigh "Well, it's about time!"  I guess I should be glad she hasn't started cursing them yet.

Busted by a 4 year old

Friday night we have a 5 year old birthday party at one of my kids' favorite places; Pump It Up. It's Friday night at 6pm, so there's no way in the world I'm not bringing a cocktail. I pour my wine in my coffee mug, load up the girls and head to Pump It Up. Of course the parents that know me realize pretty quickly what's in my mug (especially since I don't drink coffee). A few of them sneak a couple of sips and I'm sure will have a coffee mug in tow next time they have a Friday night birthday party. Since I don't know all of the parents there I'm trying to keep my wine mug quiet. I would hate to have these parents rush their child out of the birthday party because of the NOLA Whiskeypalian and her wine/coffee mug.

We finish the jumping part of the party and we have now all moved into the room for pizza, cake and presents. Everyone eats and the present opening begins. The kids are all in front watching the birthday girl open presnets and the parents are in the back chatting. A little while into the present opening, my 4 year old comes over and tries to take a sip out of my mug.

Me (grabbing the mug): "You can't have that."

Grace: "Why not?"

Me: "Because it's not for you. It's only for Mommy."

Grace (matter of factly): "That must be wine."
Then goes and sits her little butt back down.

Fabulous! Now all of the mom's in the room who don't know me are making a mental note to never accept a play date with either of my girls. Once again, Mother of the Year keeps her title.


Sidenote: If you haven't been to Pump It Up for a birthday party; they do an UNBELIEVABLE job! During the jump time the guys played with all of the kids. They helped the little ones up the slides. One time I had to help my 2 year old and he came running over apologizing for not being there. All of the plates with pizza, napkins and drinks were set up for the kids as they came in the party room. The girl took total control of the presents (even keeping the kids sitting down) and wrote down who each gift was from. This is a stress free party for any parent which was especially helpful for this parent since she's 10 days away from having baby #2.

           This is their two story slide...so much fun!

Wine and McDonald's

Last week the "Land Mass" between Mobile and New Olreans otherwise known as Mississippi was hunkered down awaiting Hurricane Isaac. I picked up my grandparents, Matt (87) and Clare (95), and brought them to Jackson to ride out the storm. (Yes, the ages are correct. Clare was a cougar before it was cool.) All last week I was stuck at the house with my grandparents, my 2.5 yr old and 4 yr old. Seriously, there's not enough alcohol in the state to make that work.  Not to mention if you think I talk a lot, spend some time with Matt. He makes me sound like a wallflower who's too shy to say anything.

Four days inside the house because all it did was rain, was making everyone stir crazy. On day four, I get a call from one of Grace's besties mom's.

Kim: "We're around the corner at McDonald's indoor playground. We couldn't take it anymore and had to get out of the house. Y'all come over and meet us."

Me: "Girl, I've already popped a top. I'm not going anywhere that doesn't serve alcohol."

Kim: "Put it in a red solo cup and come on."

Me: "We'll see."

At this point the girls get into their 2,548th fight of the day and I decide we're out of here. I open the cabinet find a travel coffee mug and pour the wine to it.  I tell the girls to load up and we head out.

I pull into McDonald's, get the girls out of the car and grab my mug. I look over and Kim and her husband, Bo, are doubled over laughing. We walk inside and they are ASTONISHED that I brought my wine to McDonald's. 

Look, a girl's gotta do, what a girl's gotta do. So a big thank you to Brandon (and Vince) at Silver Leaf for keeping my wine stocked so I didn't end up in Whitfield (mental institution) or Parchman (prison) last week.

Who says I can't get out on I-20?!!?

The second day of school we start carpool in the afternoon. We both drop our kids off, but my friend Sharon is picking up. After we leave school, I realize Sharon doesn't have a car seat for Grace. I call her on her cell phone and we decide to meet at her work. We are both on the interstate and traffic comes to a screeching halt. It turns out an 18 wheeler caught on fire and they have to re-route traffic.  Sharon is patiently waiting in the right hand lane to get off the exit. I, on the other hand, come flying by her in the left lane with plans to jump in front of another car close to the exit. (Yes, I am that driver you are cursing and flipping off. You really shouldn't be surprised.) Once I have secured my spot at the front of the line (thank you silver pick up truck for texting and not paying attention), I tell Sharon to come around where she can get in front of me.  She hesitates and finally comes to the dark side. At this point we are sitting on I-20 talking and waiting for traffic to move. Then it occurs to me:

Me: "Sharon, are your doors unlocked?"

Sharon: "Ummmm, no."

Me: "Unlock your doors for me."

Sharon: "What?"

At this point I jump out of the car, get the car seat out of the back and hand it to Sharon who is now standing with her back door open just laughing and shaking her head.  Problem solved, she now has a car seat for Grace.

The answer's still NO!

This weekend the girls and I were driving back from New Orleans and Grace got hungry. I knew this was going to happen so I packed snacks and gave one to her. She decided that it wasn't enough and asked to stop at the gas station to get a snack. I told her no for two reasons 1) Aubrey was still sleeping and I wasn't going to wake her up. 2) Scott had dinner waiting on us when we got home and we were only 20 minutes away. This is the conversation after I told her no.

Grace: "You're a mean mommy!"

Me: "Uh-huh."

Grace: "I want a new mommy! One that's not so mean!"

Me: "That's fine. Start taking applications and see what you get."

Oops!

Grace had yet to roll over, but she was really trying and getting close.  I’m not sure how old she was exactly.  Yes, I know it was only 4 years ago but they do so much in a short period that it’s hard to keep track.  Besides, if you’re reading this you probably don’t remember either.  Anyway, we just sat on the couch when I realized I forgot something in the bathroom.  It was only a couple of steps away and surely she would be safe right there while I quickly ran to the bathroom and back.  I just hit the bathroom when I heard “THUMP!”  The next thing I hear is my husband yell “Melissa, what the hell was that?  That better NOT have been Grace.”  My best friend Katie said it best “At least Scott has the maternal instinct.”  He is by far the more responsible/better parent.  He really didn’t choose wisely.  This was one of those (many) times when it was hard for me not to report myself to DHS.

Grocery shopping is hell on Earth

Incident 1: We get to the produce section of the grocery store. The 1st minute we're in there Grace jumps on the side of the buggy and it falls on top of her. In the middle of her crying she says "That buggy's not nice! It fell on me!" It took everything I had not to crack up.

Since Grace is so upset, I switch the girls around and put her in the seat and Aubrey in the basket.

Incident 2: We're passing the bakery (30 seconds after we calm down from Incident 1) Aubrey stands up to see the cakes, cookies, etc while yelling "Candy! Candy! Candy!" I tell her to sit, while attempting to slowly stop the basket. Of course she loses her balance and flips out of the basket landing flat on her back. While an "Awwwe God Damn it!" flies out of my mouth in front of, no doubt, about 8 Baptists.  The breath was knocked out of her, but she was fine other than scary the be-Jesus out of both us. At this point the manager is following us around with his arms out ready to catch whichever one of my kids falls next.

Her arm's not broken....she'll be fine!

Grace may be her name, but she didn’t get any.  I swear that child is me made over.  She was two doors down playing with a friend.  They decided to have a dance party and thought it would be a good idea to pull the cushions off the couch and jump from cushion to cushion.  Of course Grace slipped, fell and hit her arm.  She came running down complaining that her arm hurt.  We couldn’t really tell if anything was wrong because where she was pointing also had a mosquito bite.  We got some ice and put it on the area to see if that helped.  We were contemplating taking her to the doctor when we looked over and saw her sleeping.  Who are we kidding, you NEVER wake a sleeping child! I decided she was fine, just being dramatic.  The next morning she woke up and was still holding her arm.  My husband and I looked at each other both saying “We need to take her to the doctor.”  We go get x-rays and of course….broken.  Mother of the Year Award once again goes to none other than yours truly.

Who goes to jail?

A friend of mine posted on Facebook that her son's grandmother told him if he didn't put his seatbelt on she would go to jail. His response was "How long will you be gone?"

Obviously, that's a pretty funny response. But it made me think: Am I the only one that tells my kids THEY will go to jail?  Not only did I tell one of my girls this; I got back up.

The day before the girls' birthday party Aubrey, my 2 year old, and I were out running errands. She had just learned how to unbuckle her carseat. This is a new trick and one she liked to do often. After about the 3rd or 4th time of having to pull over or get out at the red light to re-buckle her; I was over her little trick.  We get to the next red light and on the corner is a gas station with 3 policemen filling up their tanks. I decide to pull in and let the police officers have a little chat with my daughter.

I pull up to one of the officers, roll down my window and tell him about Aubrey's new little trick. I also explain that I told her if she keeps doing that and the policeman sees her she will go to jail because that is against the law. Next, I roll down her window and he explains that when you break the law you do in fact go to jail and the law says that she has to have her carseat buckled at all times.

He may have been a little nicer than I was about it, but it got the point across. It scared Aubrey enough that not only has she not unbuckled her seatbelt again; she will tell me if I forgot to do it. (Yes, that has happened on several occassions when we were rushing in the morning and I buckled one but not the other.)

One Smart Cookie

We are with my mother in law and her family.  Everyone is standing around talking when my husband’s uncle walks up with a beer.  And the conversation goes as follows:

Grace: “That’s the kind of beer my daddy drinks.”

Mother in Law: “Can you believe that? A three year old knows what beer is…humph!”

Aubrey: “Daddy drinks beer.  Mommy drinks wine.”

Me (proudly): "And she's not even two yet."

Sinner Circle Park

Winner Circle Park in Flowood, MS is one of our favorite hang outs. The girls and I go their often and most of our play dates are here. This weekend we went Sunday morning after breakfast. As you can imagine in MS the park was pretty much dead. All of the good Baptists were in church unlike my heathen, Episcopalian ass. I'm sure not everyone in MS is Baptist, but I'm guessing around 90%. My mother and I were talking about what a great time it was to go to the park since it only had a few people there. We decided to re-name it Sinner Circle Park as we were not in church like all the good, little Christians. The father pushing his daughter on the swing next to us started chuckling. He thought our new name was good, too. So not only am I skipping church in the Bible Belt. I'm at the park making jokes about it. Damn, I make other parents (who were not at the park and in church) look good!

Hate to tell you this but....

This past weekend we went swimming with my cousin and her kids. My girls are a few years younger than her kids and therefor my kids think her kids rock. Monday evening this is my texting conversation with my cousin:

Cousin: "I hate to tell you this, but Porter has LICE!!! So sorry."

Me: "He probably got them from our nasty kids. I'll check them."

Cousin: "I have no idea where he could have got them. Didn't know if it was from the pool."

Me: "I doubt it. Probably another kid."

Cousin: "Are your kids ok?"

Me: "Yeah, lice only likes clean hair so we're safe."

Couldn't help myself

Last night I stopped at the store to pick up the essentials; beer and milk. I get to the register and this is what happens:

Cashier: "Well, these two sure don't mix."

Me: "The beer is for my kids and the milk is for my husband."

Cashier: (Nervously laughs)

Me: "It helps them sleep better."

I don't know who was trying harder to keep a straight face; me or the guy behind me in line.

What in the hell is wrong with that?!!?

The other day my girls had a play date with some of their friends at the park. While the kids were playing the mothers were sitting around talking. One of the moms said I have a story for you for your blog. She tells me the other day they went out on their boat and brought some friends and their son with them. While on the boat the other parents had their kid get them beer from the cooler when asked. I kind of nod and say okay waiting for the blog worthy part of this story. She looks at me, mouth open, and says "Can you believe their child does that?!!?" My response was "I can't believe yours doesn't." She couldn't believe I said that. My girls fight over who's going to bring us our next beer. I have no idea why they like doing it so much but if we get out of order they go crazy. I think this must be a Mississippi thing, because I'm pretty sure my New Orleans people are on the same page as us. You keep your beer on the bottom shelf so your kids can bring them to you when asked. I think that's Parenting 101, but apparently to others that yet again makes me Mother of the Year.

Breast Pumps, Bars and Mardi Gras

My youngest daughter, Aubrey, was born 3 weeks before the Saints won the SuperBowl (Who Dat!) and 4 weeks before Mardi Gras. If you know me, you know Mardi Gras is what I do. When I got married never missing Mardi Gras was one of my non-negotiables. So in true Mardi Gras spirit I loaded up my 20 month old and 4 week old and headed to NOLA.

Sunday night my mother offered to keep my girls while I went to Bacchus (a parade) with my brother, Lowery. I load up and drive over to my brother's house. I get out of the car with my cooler of beer and my breast pump. And this is how it goes:

Lowery: "Is that your breast pump?"

Me: "Yep. The milk comes out either way and this way is a helluva lot drier."

Lowery: "How are you going to use the milk after you've been drinking?"

Me: "I'm not going to use the milk. I'm going to dump it. Pump and dump takes on a whole new meaning when you become a mother."

We head uptown to the parade and meet a few of my brother's friends at Fat Harry's which is a local college/post-college bar. If you have never been to Mardi Gras, being close to a bathroom is KEY; just an FYI. During the parade and many beers later, I need to use the restroom. As I go inside to use the restroom I tell my brother to watch my breast pump. Never in a million years would I have ever thought I would be more concerned about the well being of a breast pump than my beer. It's getting close towards the end of the parade and it's time for me to pump. I grab my breast pump and head into Fat Harry's. I go into the bathroom and start searching for an outlet. There's no outlet in the girls bathroom. Seriously, have you ever heard of a girls' bathroom with no outlet?!!? Isn't that breaking some type of law? I realize that boobs are a big part of Mardi Gras, but I don't think a pair attached to a milking machine is what people have in mind. Remember the milk is coming out regardless, so I need a plan.

I go back outside and see my brother talking to his buddy, Daniel. I tell Lowery they don't have an outlet in the bathroom and I need to find someplace to pump...quick. Luckily, Daniel lives a block away from Fat Harry's.  Hallelujah!!! Daniel just saved the crowd at Fat Harry's a large dose of unwanted birth control.

Birthday Bash Blunders

We always have Grace's birthday party at Shiloh Splash Park. Well, this year we decided to have Aubrey's with Grace's because we never really got around to giving Aubrey a birthday party (see previous post). It just got lost in the mix. So I'm already winning Mother of the Year before we even start. And the list goes on how I just keep saving my title.

1. Grace's birthday is on June 3rd. I booked the party on June 4th. The actual party was June 23rd; 20 days late for Grace and 5 months late for Aubrey.

2. On Friday, June 22nd around 1pm, I realize I have yet to order their birthday cake. Luckily, they love cookie cake so they only need about 2 hours notice.

3. Friday evening I pick up the cake, food, drinks, etc. I go home prep all the food and I think everything is ready. Of course it's not. I wake up at 6am and realize I forgot plates, forks, and napkins.  Of course I did not get up and head to Wal-Mart like most mothers. I figured we would pick them up on the way to the party.

4. As we're packing for the party, I go to the drawer to get the candles. I need 6 candles; 4 for Grace and 2 for Aubrey. I have 5 candles. Seriously, I am short by 1 candle. Luckily, my neighbor who has absolutely EVERYTHING has candles. And I'm not kidding when I say everything, she's my own little Wal-Mart.

5. Since we have to stop to get the plates, napkins, and forks that makes us about 5 minutes late to the party. Not 5 minutes late to set up; 5 minutes after the party is supposed to start. As we're driving a friend texts me to say they are running late. I text back "No problem, so are we." Of course some of our friends are already there, but they know me well and wouldn't expect anything less.

6. It's cake time. This is a two-part fiasco.

Part 1
Since the party is outside and the wind is blowing we can't get the candles lit. I try, my husband tries. He even tries to light them in the garbage can. It's a no go. So I tell the girls to "pretend" to blow out their candles. Of course, Grace is having none of that and looks at me like I've lost my mind.

Part 2
After we have sung Happy Birthday to both girls at the same time. There were requests for two separate Happy Birthday's but really who wants to do that twice. We go to cut the cake and I realize the knife is sitting on the counter because I forgot to put it in the cake box. There is a party next to us so I ask them if they by chance have a knife. Of course not, they have cupcakes. I make do with the handle of the plastic fork. Since it was a cookie cake it was not a problem.

I think my favorite quote from the party was from my friend Lori "You're going to have all kinds of stuff for your blog this week."

Yes, ladies and gentlemen once again I still hold the coveted title of Mother of the Year!

5 months late isn't so bad

My youngest daughter turned two in January. We couldn't find anywhere to have an inside, age appropriate birthday party, so we decided to wait a month or two. The original plan was to do it in March at the park, but March came and went without a birthday party. After all, we were still recovering from Mardi Gras and prepping for the St. Paddy's Day parades. Around Jazz Fest we realized we didn't get Aubrey's birthday party in, so at this point we figured our oldest's fourth birthday is in June let's have them together! After all, she's only two and won't know the difference.

At the party a friend was telling us how her daughter, who will be six in January, said that she wanted her birthday party to be in the summer on her half birthday so it could be outside. My response "That's what Aubrey told me, too."

My poor daughter got stuck with Mother of the Year and didn't get to have her party until 5 months later. Although she has no idea now, I'm guessing the pictures of them playing at the Splash Park will give me away in the years to come.

Pools, not Soldiers

Yesterday, we were taking the girls swimming at a friend's house. As we come to an intersection, there was a couple proudly displaying American flags and waving at the cars. Of course Grace asks why they were standing on the corner with flags and waving at everybody. I told her they were honoring the people who have fought and are currently fighting for our country. That this is Memorial Day and this day recognizes those men and women. The people waving the flags are letting everyone know that they need to do the same. Her response "Memorial Day! I know what that means; that's the day the pool opens." To say she didn't quite get it would be an understatement.

Pooping with Jesus

The girls and I were finally leaving to go to New Orleans for the weekend.  We’re almost to the interstate when Grace declares that she has to poop. The closest, clean place to use the restroom is Miskelly's, a huge furniture store. I pull in, unload the girls and head to the bathroom. Grace is going to the bathroom with the door open so she can talk to Aubrey and me. Aubrey has other plans and tries to close the stall door; can’t say that I blame her. An older woman comes in to use the restroom and I apologize for the door being open, etc, etc. Grace finishes up about the same time as the lady. As Grace is leaving the stall, Aubrey decides to close the stall door yet again and catches Grace’s fingers. I know this hurt, but Grace is my dramatic child and I’m pretty sure everyone in the store heard her screaming bloody murder. I sit her on the counter, run her fingers under the cold water and try to calm her down. The lady decides that she is going to step in at this point and try to “help.” She tells Grace to put her hands together and pray to Jesus that her fingers stop hurting. Grace and I both look at this lady like she’s lost her damn mind. I tell her I think right now what we need is ice and not prayer. Now the lady is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. The only thing I could come up with is “after we finishing praying to Jesus and he’s done walking on water; do you think he could turn some of that into ice for her fingers?” I’m pretty sure I may have put another old lady down in the Miskelly’s bathroom.

Side Note: Obviously, I’m not saying that praying to Jesus is a bad thing. I just didn’t feel like this was the appropriate time. I was more in first aid mode at this point.

You have a baby...in a bar?!!?

My kids LOVE to dance to live music.  Growing up in New Orleans I can remember going to bars to see bands with my parents and my Aunt Patty.  So to me, bringing a child to a bar is a right of passage and completely normal.  However, the people in Jackson don’t quite feel the same way.  That makes me about the only mother in the area calling the bars and asking may I bring my 3 and 2 year old to hear the band if we promise to leave after the 1^st set.  On several occasions I wish I was asking in person because as soon as the person covered the receiver you know they were using the line straight out of Sweet Home Alabama.  “You have a baby…in a bar?!!?”  It’s gotten to the point where I know which bars will allow the kids to have their much loved dance parties.  The girls also know which bars and will usually make their request on Friday night.

End of the Year School Pictures?!!?

The girls had end of the year school pictures at their daycare.  I had no idea this even existed, for two reasons.  1. They’re only 2 and 3 for crying out loud.  I didn’t think this started until Kindergarten.   2. Who in the world has ever heard of end of the year school pictures.?!!? We get to school and all of the other kids are DECKED out in their nicest duds.  I’m pretty sure my kids had stains on their clothes.  Yes, I said stains.  They’re going to paint, color, play and get downright dirty.  Why in the world would I let them wear nice clothes to do these things?  My thought as I drove away was at least I brushed their hair today.

DHS wouldn't find me funny

Some of you may have seen the picture of our girls playing family where they were "drinking" beer on my Facebook page. I would like to make sure everyone understands that the beers were not open and they were not actually drinking. The picture has also been removed from my Facebook page at my husband’s request. The conversation goes as follows:

Scott: “Did you really put the picture of the girls drinking beer on Facebook?”

Me: “Yes, I told you I was when I was posting it. I thought it was pretty funny.”

Scott: “It was funny, but you never know who might see it. What would happen if someone just happened to report us to DHS?”     (DHS: Department of Human Services)

Me: “When DHS showed up at our house we would be outside with the girls; you with a beer and I would have a glass of wine. Probably not a very strong case in our defense; maybe I should take it down.”

Scott: “Probably not a bad idea.”

Like Katie Breslin says, "Good thing Scott has the responsible gene."

Groceries and Beer

We are finishing our grocery shopping and come to the last aisle which is the milk, cheese, and beer aisle.  As I’m pushing the cart down the aisle Grace says “Mommy, don’t forget to buy Daddy’s beer.”  A little old lady who is undoubtedly Baptist and sits on the front row of church every Sunday just gasps.  I tell Grace that I won’t forget hoping this is the end of the conversation.  That, of course, is not possible.  As I’m putting the beer in the cart Grace says “Mommy, I don’t like beer.  I just like wine.”  I move as quickly as possible to the register, check out and hightail it out of there hoping not to collide with the ambulance in the parking lot which I’m sure is in route to revive the little old lady.

                          Yes, this is my shopping cart.