school

Good Hair Day

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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.

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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 solution toolembarrassed 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.

 

PC Perks and Regimens

 

Thanks for Wearing a Bra Mom

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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.

Cow Poop and Mother’s Day Breakfast

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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.

Standards or Sanity. You Choose

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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!

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

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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.

snow days

 

Mardi Gras has changed a bit

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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.

Cupid Needs to Move on

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Valentine’s Day has become a bit of a retail holiday, but I still love the chance to remind people of our love. We always enjoy our church family dinner, our girls exchange Valentines, class parties, lots of sugar, greeting cards meant just for you, and flowers. It can also be a day of disappointment and unfortunate comparison. As a mom of all girls, I experienced my first Valentine’s Day dilemma.

My oldest, Sofia, received a sweet little stuffed animal from one of her friends.  While I am not a big stuffed animal fan, it was from a friend and not a little boy. We dodged the third grade girl drama. Parent victory. Short-lived parent victory, but I’ll take what I can get.

After school, my first grader and youngest in pre-K had a Valentine’s Day party recap. Ignorance truly is bliss, people. My first grader was enjoying the usual class Valentines and party food, looking forward to the weekend celebrations with family, when my youngest dropped a bomb on us. My four-year-old, my youngest, the baby sister, was given a stuffed animal and earrings. Come again?!

My youngest with her big girl dangle earrings from a boy. Definitely a traumatic experience. Parenting defeat on Friday the 13th.

My youngest with her big girl dangle earrings from a boy. Definitely a traumatic experience. Parenting defeat on Friday the 13th.

I tried not to react and simply asked what she said when the brave little boy gave her the gifts. She replied, “I told him thank you.” Another parent victory, she used her manners, quickly replaced with an inner monologue freak out.

‘Am I slipping? Surely I seem crazy enough to scare boys away. Should I have her 6’3″ daddy drop her off in the mornings? Do I need to have more cootie conversations? Seriously, jewelry?! Do I give it back and risk seeming rude? Do I simply let her wear them and not make a big deal? For the love, my baby got jewelry from a boy and I am not ready for all of this!’

I was quickly interrupted by the tears of my middle child. Wait, what?! “Vivian got earrings AND a stuffed animal! I didn’t even get a stuffed animal at school!” I reminded Lydia that it was only the 13th, that Valentine’s Day was only beginning. I also had her go with her daddy so I could take her big sister to get a stuffed animal. We are now the proud owner of a wiener dog with Valentine shorts and “I love long kisses” embroidered on its side…and earrings.  Big girl dangle earrings, given by a boy to my little girl who still writes her ‘y’ backwards.

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Here we go…

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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.

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.