Ice Cream for Breakfast

If you live in Jackson, MS and have Comcast, you are well aware that last Saturday everyone lost their cable until Monday. My husband throws in the towel and goes to bed. I get on Facebook and end up talking to a few friends that I haven't talked to in years, so it worked out well...UNTIL my brother gets on Facebook. We IM a few times and then decide to Skype. This is where it all goes downhill. After I few hours and who knows how many glasses of wine, I start nodding off and call it a night. 

The next morning I am hungover as hell. Scott and Grace wake up early so they head out. I try to convince him to wake up Aubrey and take her, but no dice. 

Hate when that damn "don't ever wake a sleeping child" rule comes back and bites me on the ass. 

A little while later Aubrey is up and wants breakfast. I convince her to get in bed with me and watch cartoons. This lasts about 15 minutes before she decides she's hungry. I told her to go get a granola bar out of the cabinet. Aubrey has different ideas about breakfast. She walks back in the room with an ice cream cone, knowing that's against the rules. 

Me: "You know you can't have ice cream for breakfast. Put that up and get a granola bar." 

Aubrey: "I can't reach it. You get it, Mommy."

For those of you who don't know Aubrey, let me explain that Mickey Mouse shooting fireworks out of his ass while sliding down a monster slide into a swimming pool, would not deter that child from food.

At this point, Aubrey and I both know she's won. Well played, kiddo. Well played.

That morning, ladies and gentlemen, my Mother of the Year Award crown was placed on my hung over head by a pair of sticky ice cream fingers and was given an empty bottle(s) of wine for my septor.

School Program

Grace is finishing up K4 at a "Christian" school, however in Mississippi "Christian" = Baptist. My husband is out of town, so I go to the school program, Noah's Ark, with my mother in law.  As expected they do a little musical with all kinds of praising Jesus. Not only is my Episcopalian butt afraid of catching on fire, I'm also completely unprepared.

The night before I look all over the house trying to find our flip video camera. I can't find the damn thing anywhere, so I text my husband. He hasn't seen it either. Finally, walking out the door the next morning I remember where I put it. I grab the camera and a new pack of batteries.  I get to school find some seats and put the batteries in the camera.  The brand new batteries were bad and the video camera lasted about 2 minutes of the 25 minute program. I had my phone fully charged so we went to that as a back up plan.

After the program, they served refreshments of kool-aid, juice, muffins and donuts. As I approach the table a lady asks if I would like a Kool-aid. I politely decline, but what I would really like to say is: "No thank you, I'll just stick to my wine" and give a little wink.

After the refreshment part, we go back to the classroom where we get to see what the kids have been learning all year. Of course, they start with a few bible verses. We are informed that our children have learned 24 bible verses this year. I look at my mother in law and say: "Well, that means Grace knows 24 more bible verses than I do." As the kids are reciting the bible verses I watch all of the good Baptist moms mouth the bible verses along with their kids and nod approvingly. I on the other hand am searching for the fire exit so I can plan my escape route when I burst into flames.

The second part of the classroom presentation are a few of the songs they learned (all biblical, of course). Then they move on to reading and grammar rules. Ok, now I'm on board. As they are reciting their grammar rules, I notice I'm the only mother mouthing along with my child and nodding their approval. Seriously...you can remember all 24 bible verses, but can't remember a couple of grammar rules?!!?

After this event, I have no doubt my daughters will probably end up getting kicked out of school because of their mother. Cheers!

Liquor store run

I was talking to my husband about making a wine run and Grace got excited to come with me.

Me: "Why don't you stay home with daddy?"

Grace: "No, I want to see if they moved the water."

Scott: "Moved the water?"

Me: "They have a waterfall feature in the store and since they've been remodeling it has moved around a few times."

Scott: "She might be a little too familiar with the liquor store."

I just shrug.

In the end, Grace winds up going with me to the liquor store.  When we get there we see that they have decorated for Mardi Gras and Valentine's Day. They hung flags from the ceiling for both holidays. Grace goes over to see if she can jump up and touch them. In a mintute Grace comes running back over.

Grace: "Mommy, Mommy look who's here!"

Me: "Who, baby?"

Grace (jumping up and down): "It's Mr. Brandon! It's Mr. Brandon!"

Mr. Brandon is the liquor store manager and yes, Grace knows him by name. At this point it is time to throw in the towel and concede to my husband's earlier point. 

Yes, ladies and gentlemen my reign as Mother of the Year is still secure.

Blow up dolls as rafts?!??

Yes, I posted a picture on my Facebook page with a blow up doll in the pool floating around kids swimming.

 

 

 

This probably isn't appropriate, but we may have broken that little rule last year at Mardi Gras.  My friend, Dana, comes in every year for Mardi Gras from Oregon. Last year, she wasn't able to come in due to work. We didn't want her to miss it, but she couldn't be there either. Obviously, we needed an alternative. Introducing...

 

                      

                                         Blow up doll, Dana!

 

We took her with us all weekend, uploaded the pictures to Facebook and tagged her so she could see herself enjoying all of the festivities. She would even text us with requests of the things she would like to do while at Mardi Gras.

 

She became as big a part of the family as the real Dana. We realized this when the girls would remind us not to forget Ms. Dana when we loaded up in the car to head out for the parades. 

 

So, I may make fun of people allowing their children to use a blow up doll as a raft, but I happily carried my blow up doll, Dana, around with my family for a whole weekend. Which in turn, makes me Mother of the Year yet again.

 

 



Parents-To-Be Make Me Laugh

The other day Grace and I were in Target to get a birthday present for one of her friends. As we're in line to check out, the pregnant couple in front of us start talking to Grace. They ask her all of the usual questions, tell me she's beautiful, etc., etc.  All the things naive parents-to-be talk about to other parents.

The lady in front of us checking out has her grandson in the front of the shopping cart, who's obviously teething. He's happy as a clam knawing on the metal handle. The pregnant wife is smiling in that way you know she's judging.

 

The lady finishes checking out and pushes the cart with her grandson out the store. As soon as the lady is out of earshot, the wife turns to the husband and says:

"Our child will never be in a shopping cart without a cover and most certainly will not chew on the handle! I bet she didn't even disinfect it!"

She looks over at me for confirmation and I just knowingly nod.

My knowing nod translates into: "Lady, you just wait. You'll be so tired after this baby you'll just hope you remembered to brush your teeth and put on deoderant before you walked out the door."

At this point I will happily induct her into the wonderful world of my Mother of the Year Award.

Drunk Santa

Holy crap, is Santa a hard job?!!? Christmas Eve we go to church then have friends and family over for dinner and drinks. Finally, we get the kids calmed down enough to go to bed. After we are sure that they are fast asleep, it's time to pull out the Santa toys from all of their hiding places and get to work.  There's only one problem; none of the Santa's at this house were drinking milk.

At this point we're scrambling for tape and gift tags. I finally decide that gift tags are a waste of time since they won't read them anyway. The new idea is to write the first letter of their name on their gifts and put them in different piles; which actually worked out well. I finally find the tape and off we go.  This pretty much looked like our presents minus the bows and gift tags.

 

The next morning I wake up around 6am with a massive hangover. This is when I go into panic mode. "Oh, shit! Did we get all the presents?!!?" I get out of bed and start checking all of the hiding places. I was sure there were some we missed. After checking a couple of times I was satisfied we didn't miss anything. I went back to bed and waited for the girls to wake up.

The girls finally get up and we go into the living room to start opening presents. I get the video camera out and set it on the shelf so we have a steady memory of Christmas morning. One of the girls' biggest presents was a new kitchen. Aubrey is all excited opening the doors and cabinets to see what's in the kitchen. All of sudden we hear her squeel with delight: "Santa left me a screwdriver!"

Apparently Santa, in his drunken state, forgot to put up the screwdriver after putting all of the cabinets and doors on the kitchen. This is why, yet again, I get to keep my title as Mother of the Year.