Cows and Such

So, we’re eating dinner on the patio and Vivian asks, “You know why I like cows?” Before I could reply, she said, “I like cows because I like steak. Steak is inside the cow and then somebody kills it so you can get the steak out.”

As I confirmed that steak comes from a cow, she took another bite of her steak and said, “I like steak sauce, too. Steak sauce is really good with steak but I don’t have any.” Taking the hint, I brought her some Worcestershire sauce.image

Vivian thanked me for her favorite sauce and noticed my flowers. She smiled and said, “I like your orange lilies, Mom. I like your roses too, the pink roses are pretty, but I don’t really like roses because they can poke holes in you. For real, those little pokeys hurt! I like your dark lilies too. We have pretty flower here.”

She took another bite of steak and said, “Yep. I like cows.”

Just Checking Mom!

Last Sunday, all of the children went to sing at the nursing home after lunch at the local Mexican Restaurant. We all played musical cars and I ended up with Vivian, Lydia, and two of her first grade friends in my mom mobile. In true girl style, Lydia and her friends decided they had to go to the bathroom before leaving the restaurant.

I waited outside the bathroom with Vivian, knocking to remind them that we couldn’t be late. At the sound of the paper towel dispenser dispensing a small forest and mischievous giggling, I popped my head inside the door and busted out my mean mom voice. They giggled, but promised they were almost finished.

I immediately turned to check on Vivian, AKA Amber Alert, but didn’t see her. I panicked and yelled her name, only to find her in the floor looking up my dress. I asked what she was doing and she loudly responded, “Just checking to see if you’re wearing panties today, Mom!” I quickly replied, “Every day, Viv! Every day, now get up out of the floor!” The older church ladies in the booth nearby were as mortified as I was. Thank goodness the girls came out of the bathroom and we could all escape the awkward moment. Fortunately, the nursing home was a success and no further public service announcements were made.

Cow Poop and Mother’s Day Breakfast

I was rushing around to get to a Mother’s Day Breakfast with Vivian at school. I am not a morning person, so I was cutting it close. I was completely ready, I simply had to take our beloved Ollie Augustus down the hill to his kennel.As I reached to remove his collar, I quickly realized that he had rolled in cow poop…again!

Two things, 1. Eau de Cow Poop lingers even after washing your hands three times. 2. There are few things more humbling than texting your child’s teacher about cow poop. In light of the first point, I hand sanitized my hand about 20 times as I drove to the school. I finally got rid of the horrible smell, just in time to be the last mom to arrive to the breakfast.

I had a chocolate milk with Vivian as she finished her Fruit Loops in chocolate milk with orange juice. Upon clearing our tables, we walked back to the pre-K room to find a precious gift from our children.

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Allow me to show you an enlarged version of the letter in which I am 70 feet tall and weigh 60 pounds.  It sounds awesome until I read my age… 62 years old. Oh, and apparently Vivian likes doing the dishes with me. Who knew?!

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According to Vivian I am super model skinny, despite my age, I make a mean batch of chocolate fudge, and she knows that I love her. I am just going to embrace the age and let people tell me, “Dang! You look good for 62!” The cow poop, however, I could do without.

A Letter to my Dog

Dear Ollie Augustus,

Last week was pretty rough. Between doctor visits for Sofia and the usual mischief, I was a bit exhausted. I mean seriously, I even got an empty fortune cookie on Friday. A fortune-less fortune cookie, not the best way to finish an already festive week. I was over it all and decided to go home and let the girls binge-watch Disney Junior while I divided my hostas. I finished my evening with a glass of wine, a beautiful sunset, and you. As you sat there, loyal and quiet, I finally realized why people own dogs.

At 1:30 in the morning I woke up to you, barking incessantly at a raccoon, while Lawrence yelled at you to be quiet and get in the house. I came downstairs and yelled every command we had ever worked on together. Nothing. You just barked and barked as I yelled like a crazy woman in my cheetah pajamas for you to come in the house while Lawrence went to get a flashlight. We quickly realized that the raccoon was big enough to win the fight you were provoking, so Lawrence went for his gun.

As he fired in the air like Yosemite Sam in boxer shorts, you finally decided to stop barking and come into the house. Finding the girls at the top of the stairs, I realized we may have startled our neighbors as well. Messaging my neighbors that we were firing guns at 1:30 am is not my idea of fun on a Friday night, but having the cops called is certainly not any better. I finally got the girls back to sleep, but I tossed and turned until my alarm went off at 6:00.

That’s right, 6:00 am on a Saturday to get dance shoes clean, all 9 dace costumes packed, style hair, and apply make up for dance picture day. I left my house at 8:30 am and returned at 8:30 pm, sleep deprived. You managed to stay out of trouble…until Sunday.

I mean seriously, coming home from church to find you covered in cow poop is yet again, not my idea of fun. If anyone drove by my house, they saw me in my navy dress with fluorescent sneakers and hot pink dish gloves, hosing you down and bathing you in the front yard. Thanks for that buddy.

P.S.  You are the first dog I have ever owned, and you may very well be the last. I have invested far too much time and money to get rid of you, and like the girls, your cuteness redeems you.

P.S.  You are the first dog I have ever owned, and you may very well be the last. Much like the girls, your cuteness redeems you.

Everybody Dance Now

For our commute from school to dance I let each girl pick a song. Here lately, my youngest has been on a C+C music Factory kick. Naturally, Vivian yelled out, “Play Everybody Dance Now!” Per her request, I found “Gonna Make You Sweat” in my iPod and turned it up.

Lydia busted out her best Zelma then said, “I’m the electric guitar, what are you all playing?!” As she rocked her air guitar, Sofia replied, “I’m the guitar!” After an argument about being the same instrument, Sofia agreed to be the piano. Of course, she totally lied to her sister in and carried on as the guitar, low enough that Lydia couldn’t see her from the third row of my ginormous mom-mobile.

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We all danced and sang horribly out of tune when suddenly, Vivian chimed in, “I’m the cowbell!” I mean really? What about C+C Music Factory screams cowbell? The girls giggled and I had a Saturday Night Live flashback. Regardless, she rocked her best cowbell and belted it out!

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American Girl Doll$$$

The girls begged and begged to get an American Girl Doll a couple years ago. Knowing how rough my girls are and how expensive the dolls are, we came to an agreement. I would pay for half and they could earn the other half through chores, good behavior, and good grades. Just before Christmas, they earned enough money in their jars.

Sofia, Lydia, and Vivian had taped pictures of the American Girl Dolls that looked most like them on their money jars. My girls had obsessed about their American Girl Mini-Me’s for months. When we went to the American Girl Doll Store, the girls quickly changed their minds and decided upon Historical Character dolls instead.  Different dolls, same ridiculous price.

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The girls love their dolls, but my girls are also very active in dance and sports, so they really only bring their dolls for special occasions. You know, when they just have to have their doll, then ask you to carry it within 10 minutes. Yep, times three. So, I bought rolling doll luggage from Pottery Barn Kids and now we look like ridiculous divas when we travel.

We have every Disney Princess outfit for the dolls, Nutcracker Sugar Plum Fairy Costumes, Historical Character books, and then some.  Imagine my surprise when Sofia leaves me this note that has a math problem…or so I thought. As it turns out, Sofia was letting me know how much money she needed to get a second American Girl Doll, a new outfit, a horse, and some other essential American Girl Doll accessory she saw in that catalog.

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Being the good mom that I am, I just looked at her and wrote my response, “Get a job” with a heart (because I love her). You can see how she felt about that. Still no job, still only one American Girl Doll. I am “the worst mom ever.”

Standards or Sanity. You Choose

Make that party of two. After dance carpool I returned to the office to find this. Thank goodness they're cute!

Strep throat, party of two.

Do you remember how I gave up yelling at my kids for Lent on a snow day? That snow day turned into 3 snow days, then the weekend, then Monday Vivian woke up sick, then Monday afternoon I had to pick up Sofia early from school because she was sick, then I had dance carpool Monday night with Lydia, then Tuesday was a snow day, which turned into a snow week. Seriously.

By Wednesday, my cootie kids had been fever-free and on antibiotics for their strep throat long enough to take them in public. The girls had eaten everything we had at home, so we dropped Lawrence off at work and went to McDonalds for breakfast and the germ infested Play Place. Why? Because a mother considerably lowers all standards after being cooped up with children for so long. My next step, the grocery store. Yes, with all three girls.

Screen time is not restricted during snow days. Screen time = sanity for mom.

Screen time is not restricted during snow days. Screen time = sanity for mom.

 

Snow was in the forecast for that afternoon. I should have known how crowded the stores would be, but my options were, grocery store or don’t eat for days. Let’s be honest, I didn’t get this body by not eating, and hungry kids are grumpy. Off to the grocery we went. Never underestimating the power of bribery, I let the girls choose donuts for the next morning and told them, “If you want them for breakfast, you have to behave for the rest of the day.” Let’s just say, I will never get those two hours of my life back and I don’t care to re-live that trip to the grocery, but I didn’t yell at my kids.

 

If looks could kill

If looks could kill

As soon as we got home, I bundled up the girls and sent them outside to fight in their new snow boots as I put away groceries. The novelty of playing in the snow wore off quickly and the girls were back in the house as I was finishing with the groceries.  Just as all of their winter layers had been thrown into a pile, their daddy called to check on their behavior.

I put the phone on the counter and waited to hear the girls’ reports. Naturally, Vivian ran to the phone and told Lawrence, “We have been good today Daddy and we get donuts in the morning. Yep, we’re listening and we miss you!” I looked at her and she immediately gave me a dirty look and whispered, “Don’t say a word!” as she pointed her finger at me.

I made the girls a Newman’s organic frozen pizza, gave them a bath, and tucked them into bed with a movie. I then proceeded to finish laundry, get the back-up heat ready, and prepare for the possible power outage due to the anticipated 3-8″ of snow. I finally went to bed at 1:00 am.  I woke up, far too early, to Vivian counting to 100 as she hugged me in a headlock, then repeatedly asked, “Is it donut time? Is it donut time?”

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When you’re outnumbered and you can’t send them to school, you just go with it. I sugared them up and sent them outside to go sledding. You can call it caving, I call it staying sane during a snow week.

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Notice how dark this picture is? The donut demands started entirely too early.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fortunately, the snow is beautiful and my girls are cute. It's been fun, but I am ready for warm weather!

Fortunately, the snow is beautiful and my girls are cute. It’s been fun, but I am ready for warm weather!

Disney World

I was just snuggling in the bed with Vivian, talking about how she is turning five soon when, out of the blue, she dropped the Disney World bomb on me…

“Mama, I want to go to Disney World.” Then, she leaned into my ear and whispered, “If you let me go to Disney World, I will let you have a piece of wine and coffee when we get back home.”

My how the bribery tables have turned!

I Gave up Yelling at My Kids for Lent on a Snow Day

If you know me well, you know that patience is not my virtue…and I’m not a morning person. Naturally, school mornings in our house are festive to say the least, as are Saturday game days and Sunday church mornings. Okay, every morning is rough. Did I also mention that I have 3 little girls? There are a lot of wardrobe malfunctions, fighting, and yelling to get through the morning routine. Yes, I said routine. It’s the same thing, every morning, yet my girls wake up in a brand new world every day.

On Valentine’s Day, we were all getting ready for the last basketball game of the season…and running late. On the annual day of love, amid the hectic morning, my family informed me that I am a nag. Romantic, I know. You see, I had been asking and asking (and asking and yelling) to pick up their things, to get dressed, to stop fighting, to put on clothes suitable for winter, to brush their teeth, to put their dirty clothes in the hamper, to brush their hair, to put their toys in the toy room, and… you get the point.

Naturally, I protested and let their daddy get them ready. Rather than repeating myself, I simply took all of the things I had been asking them to pick up and put them in an empty hamper. I also let them go to the game rocking the first ponytail attempt by their daddy.

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When we returned from the ball game, they realized that their American Girl dolls, favorite sweatshirts, toys, books, etc. were gone. I showed them the hamper and told them the new rule, “I ask once to pick up your things and after that, I simply put it in the hamper and you have to do a chore to get each thing back.”

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Sweeping the entry to get her American Girl doll. Parenting like a boss.

The rule had been helping, but mornings were still rough. So, I decided to give up yelling at my kids and losing my patience with them for Lent. Naturally, Ash Wednesday was a snow day. Thursday was a snow day. Friday was a snow day. That’s right, 3 consecutive snow days. My husband is a bit worried about my sanity, but so far I haven’t yelled at my daughters. Day 4…only 36 more to go.

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Planning ahead for next year.

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Mardi Gras has changed a bit

I didn’t realize that I was celebrating Mardi Gras at the dance studio until I just happened to check my planner. I used to celebrate Mardi Gras and leave Lent and Ash Wednesday for the Catholics, but last year, I chose to observe Lent. I gave up chocolate, soda, and Bourbon. Yes, all three. I now know that 40 days is a long time.

Very long, like I would ask to just smell my husband’s bourbon or the girls’ chocolate. By the time Easter arrived, all I wanted to do was binge on chocolate Cadbury eggs and have a Woodford Reserve with a splash of coke. It was solemn, but not exactly a religious observation.

I spent this snowy Ash Wednesday helping my Lydia with her Abraham Lincoln report, all the while considering what to give up for Lent. I have decided to give up impatience with my girls. It sounds crazy, I know, but with 3 strong-willed divas with unlimited energy, I will be spending a lot of time in prayer to keep from raising my voice or losing my patience…especially while getting ready on school days.

Feel free to give me a shout out in your prayers.