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.