Quote of the Day

Emily rolled up on me last night before she went to bed and began striking various poses.

"Hey Mom. Thanks for making me with this body. You did a really great job. It's perfect!"

Someone does not struggle with self-esteem.

Quote of the Day

Emily was trying to lift her brother's leg to throw him. He just stood there and looked at her. He finally deigned to insult her.
"You have the upper body strength of a gerbil."

Christians vs. Gravity

Emily bounded down the stairs and demanded an answer.

"Mom. Do Christians believe in gravity?"
"Yes. I believe that most of them do. However, I'm pretty sure that gravity doesn't care who believes in it."

Saying that you don't believe in something certainly doesn't make it not so. If anyone should concede this to another group it should certainly be Christians. One would think, anyway.

Calling BS on Grandma & Grandpa

We went to my parents' last weekend. My cousin was getting married, so we just made a trip out of it. The Husband was doing some work, I was reading in the living room, and my parents were in the kitchen with the kids. I didn't see it, but my parents committed some sort of PDA of which my children did NOT approve.

"Eeeewww! Gross!"
"What? Without that sort of thing your Mommy wouldn't be here."
"Grandma. We know that you adopted Mom."

Quote of the Day

"Hi Mom! I'm done with my bath."
"Isa. Come here. Why are your eyelids yellow?"
"Oh! I couldn't find any eyeshadow, so I used a marker."

Hahahahahahaha

So I was very alarmed today. Months ago, I agreed to install this program that is supposed to help me keep track of my finances. I've never looked at it again. It does, every now and then, send me little emails and reminders. All of which I ignore.

This morning, however, I had an email waiting for me in my inbox that warned of a "low checking account balance". I freaked. I had just checked last night, and all. seemed well until payday Friday. I had enough for gas and groceries, and all the bills could wait a few days. So it was really, really bad if my checking account was empty. Gas and groceries are pretty high on the important list.

So I opened up the email and it was concerned that the balance in my account had dropped below $500. Really? Now I will never use this program for sure. If it believes that $480 is a "low" balance in my checking account, then it clearly has no concept of what an average balance is! Low balance... Where was this piece of shit program when my account had six dollars? That, mint.com, is a low balance. A I have three kids and bills balance. Mint.com, you can suck it.

Quote of the Day

Declan was helping his Dad sort laundry. The Husband was going through them, and in true dudes-doing-laundry fashion, was throwing them at Dec for appropriate sorting. The system was actually working pretty well. Until they got to one of my bras, that is. It was an old one that I haven't worn in a very long time. Since about the time my oldest was born.

"Here comes one of your Mom's bras!"
"Oh, man. It's see-through."
"Yeah? What do you think about that?"
"Well, I'm disappointed and a little grossed out."
"Your Mom used to wear bras like that all the time!"
"That's great Dad. One more image to keep me up at night. Thanks a lot."

Holidays and the Lord

Okay, so if you've been reading this since the beginning, you know that The Husband and I don't have that old-fashioned, down-home, small-town embrace of religion. We don't discourage our kids from exploring religion, but we also didn't feel right about brainwashing them with any one in particular. Especially if we are not convinced ourselves.

Anywho, the kids all have very different perspectives on the subject. Emily considers herself religious, and Declan just doesn't understand it. He just can't get his very logic-driven head around blindly believing in something that there is absolutely no physical proof of whatsoever. He also is very put off by all the war and violence he sees on the television in the name of religion. Long story short, he's shaping up to be quite the little Agnostic.

My parents are very religious. Very. And their disappointment with me, and most importantly how I am wantonly throwing my children to the wolves of eternal damnation, is without limit. Religion is just something we have decided not to discuss.

So the kids and I went trick-or-treating the other night in my hometown with my Mom. It was a lovely, unseasonable warm evening and the streets were chock full of happy kids and happy parents.

We were pulling up on a street that looked particularly promising, and arguing erupted from the back seat.

Emily: "You HAVE to tell her, Declan!"
Declan: "Shut UP! No I don't!"
Emily: "But she's a Grandma - that means she has to be accepting!"
Declan: "No!!"
Emily: 'Grandma, Declan doesn't believe in God."
Declan:"Damn it, Emily! Why do you have talk about that today of all days?!? Don't you have any respect for holidays?!?"


I would like to hereby propose that on all holidays going forward that no discussion of the validity of religion be allowed between family members who do not agree on said topic. Actually, I'm pretty sure that every day is a holiday somewhere....

Quote of the Day

Emily was helping me fold laundry. Well, to be completely accurate she was sitting near me while I was folding laundry.

"Mom, what's this one? Oh! Grooooss! It's a bra!"
She continued after a brief pause.
"You know, Mom. You should really buy a bra that has sparkles on it or something so it's not as disgusting as your regular ones."

The Husband perked up from the other room.
"Yeah! Sparkles!"

Sparkles are not exactly a comfortable, breathable fabric prized in undergarments. Nope. No sparkles. Jerks.

Parenting > Dignity

I am the proud new owner of a minivan. Okay. Proud may be pushing it a bit. I am the reluctant and slightly bummed owner of a minivan.

Much like elastic waist pants and sun visors, this is something that I swore I would die before I ever owned. I'm still holding out on the visor and pants, by the way. Just saying.

The thing with the minivan is that it is incredibly convenient. It was just getting difficult cramming the three kids into the backseat of the Jetta. Basically what I'm hoping to do is trade my cool card and last shred of dignity to avoid even more hideous behaviors.

Here's the thing. I found myself turning into my dad without the van. It is all the kids' fault, of course. They couldn't leave each other the hell alone.

"Mom! Declan's touching my leg!"

"Mom! Emily is sleeping on my arm!"

"Mom! Emily keeps saying 'bearp' over and over at me and WON'T! SHUT! UP!"

Whack! "OOOwwwwww!"

I found myself saying the most unimaginable things. I actually at one point threatened to stop the car. I couldn't believe it, either. What was even more terrifying is that I really, really meant it. I would totally have stopped the car.  It was time to act before it was too late.

In my defense, I did buy the most tricked out, badass minivan I could find. It has an awesome stereo, automatic doors and seat warmers. And to cater to the cold wuss that I am, it has remote start. Did I mention the seat warmers?

Unfortunately, no manner of gadgetry or DVD screens can change the fact that I drive a fucking minivan. I have exchanged my last bit of at this point totally imagined cool factor to be sure that I don't throw one of my offspring from a moving compact for saying "bearp" once too often. I am officially middle-aged. Most terrifying of all is that it's not as traumatic a transformation as I'd always imagined.

Hmm. I bet elastic pants are quite comfortable...

Quote of the Day

Isa opened the silverware drawer and began to pull out spoons.

"One, two, three four, five, six seven..."

"Wait. Seven?? There's only five of us. Are you getting spoons out for dinner?"
"Oh, no, Mom! I'm trying to break a World Record!"
"By counting spoons?"

Exasperated eye roll.

"No. Mom. The record for number of spoons balanced on the face at once. The record is only 15!"