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!
My middle daughter still has a few issues with masks and costumes, but she’s getting better and agreed to a Disney cruise. Her sisters are beyond excited and my husband is not the least bit on board with this idea. I know we’re going to be throwing our money at all things Princess, so I informed the girls they need to start a Disney Cruise fund.
It’s really just a way to tell them no when they ask for things and be able to remind them of their trip without being the super cheap mom that always says ‘no’. So far, they are cooperating and even asking for chores to earn money. That’s right, chores, Box Tops, loose change, any way to earn money…and I mean any way.
The other day I asked my youngest, my baby, my mini me for a hug. She put down her change cup, smiled ever so sweetly, and gave me the tightest hug as she told me how much she loves me. She then stood up and said, “I’m gonna need some cash money for that hug. I’m trying to earn money for my Disney fund.” I told her I didn’t have any change and she said, “Mom, I said cash money. Dollar bills, no change. I’m trying to go on a Disney Cruise here.”
Today I forgot soap at the grocery, so I stopped at a little place on my way home. Soap, I only needed soap. A quick run for soap turned into 2 kids needing to use the bathroom, 1 kid doing Karate Kid crane moves in the bathroom, a request for fake press-on nails and a hair net, and their weird obsession…plungers.
Every time we go down the cleaning aisle, my kids lose their minds. Straight up laughing until they snort as they plunge the floor. Except for today. Lydia actually plunged her sister’s head. Yep, her little sister’s head.
I can now add, “Stop plunging your sister’s head!” to my list of things I never thought I would say. Now let’s all say a prayer that the plunger was brand new and never used for it’s true purpose.
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.
As I walked to the coffee pot this morning, Sofia said, “Thanks for always wearing a bra when you take me to school.”
I just looked at her and she said, “For real. There are moms that bring their kids in pajamas. They don’t even wear a bra and their business is all hanging out. I would be so embarrassed if you took us looking like that. So thanks!”
I’m just going to take that compliment and rock on with my Mother of the Year award.
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.
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.
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.
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?!
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.
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.
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
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?”
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.
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!
Mamarazzi & Her Divas 