So I’m driving along with my three girls and my niece as we come upon some cows. Chloe quickly points to a cow and then this conversation happens…
Chloe: “I named that cow Melissa.”
Lydia: “Which cow?”
Chloe: “The one with the white face.”
Sofia: “Did you name any of the other cows?”
Chloe: “Just Melissa with the white face.”
Vivian: “You should have named her Mooo-lissa so she could understand you.”
I am never bored with these girls!
I tried to explain to Vivian that she would be wearing a cap and gown for her Kindergarten graduation picture, but she got super excited about her cute outfit and even picked a hair bow. I explained that a cap is a kind of hat and she might need to take out her hair bow. She looked at me and said, “Nope. I look good today and I am not messing up this hair with some stinking’ hat!”
When we got to the school, I thought her teachers might be able to talk her into it. Not so much. Thank goodness one of the teachers recommended that she hold the cap in her picture. After a lot of sass and attitude, she agreed to hold the cap.
After our picture day drama, I knew graduation day would be an issue with “that stinkin’ hat” so, in true mom fashion, I decided to lie. “You know, Viv, you can’t go on to first grade if you don’t wear the hat to graduation. It’s one of the rules.” She rolled her eyes and said, “Are you kidding me? I don’t want to be in kindergarten again! I’ll wear the stupid hat, but just this time.”
When all the kids walked in, she was wearing her little cap and gown, smiling her goofy 
embarrassed smile in front of all the families. She sat down and giggled nervously as I quietly rejoiced in one of my few victories with her. Awards were presented and a little kid bumped her hat as he walked by, then another classmate bumped her hat. She took off the hat and put it under her seat. I got her attention and motioned to put her cap back on, but she looked at me and whispered, “My teacher said to put our hats under our seats if they fall off.” with that ‘get ya some of that’ look and she quickly turned around.
She received awards for her test scores, the library award, her diploma, and ‘Most Likely to be a Fashion Designer’. Well played, Kindergarten Teachers, well played.
As I was trying to get the girls ready for dance carpool and myself ready for CrossFit, I walked in to find Vivian drawing…completely naked. Rushing around, I asked her to bring me her tights so I could help. As she took her sweet time getting to me, I informed her that, “I will not be late because you won’t cooperate.”
She threw her tights to me and said, “Well look at you mom! Late, coordinate, you rhymed! Haha! Late, coordinate, great. I rhymed, too.”
I put her tights on and said, “I’m leaving. Hurry up or your daddy will leave you.” It didn’t even phase her… If you ever see me and I am clearly the frazzled hot mess mom, you can assume that Vivian is involved.
You know that little tiny area at the bottom of your windshield that is never touched by the windshield wipers? The spot that is the shape of a shark fin and always has rain drops on it…
The fact that it is never cleaned really bothers Lydia. A lot. She would like for someone to find a way to make sure it is also cleared off with the rest of the windshield.
Yes, we had a five minute conversation in our car tonight and yes, there may be some family members with OCD tendencies.
When your dad wakes you every day by turning on the lights and you don’t like mornings, you get creative.
Well played girls, well played.
Every night, Lydia and Vivian hang blankets from Sofia’s loft bed because Big Daddy McNabb wakes all of us up by turning on the lights and talking loudly. Some mornings he even plays the Ohio State or Notre Dame fight song until we come down stairs. I will never understand morning people, but I always appreciate the pot of coffee he makes before he turns on the lights!
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.
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.”
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.
Planning ahead for next year.
So, my husband and I live in a small town in North Carolina, but our families are spread all over the Midwest and Southeast. So, I share my daily festivities with our girls on Facebook. By ‘festivities” I mean humiliating moments, bizarre encounters, juggling acts, hilarious conversations, travel experiences, and my “normal” chaos with my divas.
I can’t tell you how many times people have encouraged me to write a book or start a blog. My response was always, “When? I am just trying to keep them all alive and not lose a kid! Maybe when Vivian starts school.” For real, some days I had to claim momnesia and just mentally prepare myself for the next day of craziness.
After hearing “this too shall pass” at least a million times, I finally have them all in school. So, here we go…
Coordinating outfits can be a challenge, but I am glad I found an outfit with pockets for the youngest. We had chicken nuggets in her pockets so she would cooperate. Unfortunately, our dog, Ollie Augustus, was not as easily bribed with his pork chops. So, our only other male in the family is not pictured. That’s right, I managed to get a dog as high maintenance as my children.
Becca, Vivian, Sofia, Lawrence, Lydia, Courtney.
Mamarazzi & Her Divas 