Posts Tagged ‘mommies’

Road trips with minions are never boring….hair-raising, loud, and stressful maybe, but never boring. The tallish minion and I have come up with a game. When we’re in the car for a long time, we work on our dream house.

Our dream house is entirely made up, and we decided that if we ever win the lottery, this is what we will build. Every trip we add rooms, colors, decorations, pets, and anything else we can come up with.

It’s going to be a rainbow of color, because we just can’t agree on anything. Since there are so many rooms, it is a sprawling structure with several wings. There will be a lime and black zebra wall, a turquoise wall, and an entirely mirrored wall, as well as sides of every other jewel-tone there is. Hot pink trim will grace the entire thing…which includes turrets.

Inside will be rooms to suit any taste, and we will rent them out like a hotel. When you book a room, you don’t book by a number, you book by style. Victorian Powder Room, anyone?

The minion has a few rooms added that will take some ingenuity. A treehouse room that has to be an actual treehouse is on the list. A treehouse with access to the rest of the house by slide, zipline, and rope ladder.

There will be two ballrooms. One of the traditional kind, for dancing, modeled (of course) after Beauty and the Beast, Disney version. Another will be a ballroom in the literal sense. No furniture, the entire room will be a ball pit. Plastic colored balls. With a disco ball chandelier, round mirrors on every wall, and port-hole windows. The walls in here will be yellow with pink polka-dots.

Of course there will be an indoor pool, shaped like a crescent moon, and a star-shaped hot-tub. The gym will have all the traditional equipment, except in neon colors. A ballet barre will line one wall, and a gymnastics mat will stretch through the center.

The playground room will be just like it sounds. Think McDonald’s, without the creepy clown and the hamburger dude.

I have (silently) decided on a fully stocked bar. A gameroom will probably go well with that.

The minions both voted for a movie theater.

The list of pets is almost as long as the list of rooms. There will be ferrets and flying squirrels, one naked cat, a team of huskies, fainting pygmy goats, and ponies. Outside there will be a small zoo with ring-tailed lemurs, a few monkeys, and a Zebra named Zed.

One wall of the kitchen will be the side of the salt-water aquarium with the dolphins. They will be trained to let the minions ride, and they won’t eat fish…that would be “soo friggin’ gross.”

The whole structure must be on stilts, since we took a trip to Corpus and the tallish minion became fascinated by the houses on sticks.

I’ve decided that this is all feasible. I just need to win the lottery a few times, get a fairy godmother, and find some magic beans.


It started with a simple desire to do a little cleaning while the tallish minion was in school, and the smallish one was on vacation with his dad. Nothing major, just a little Spring Cleaning without their input and hysterics when I tossed half of the 137 stuffies in the donation bag and threw out a few dozen Happy Meal boxes.

It ended with a destroyed kitchen, a pickup with the bed overflowing, and a storage room emptied and repurposed. Throw in a sprained knee, 9 new bruises, and a sore back. Add the help of two WONDERFUL friends.

The ultimate result was that the minions’ shared room became the tallish one’s room, and the storage room became the smallish one’s room. He finally has a room of his VERY OWN, and the video I have of him screaming I LOVE IT is completely worth the hassle.

I thought I was done for a while, except for the storage stuff purged into the kitchen and the poor truck that needed emptied.

I was wrong.

The first night gave me a new respect for nurses in nursing homes where each grumpy patient has a call button. One needed medicine, the other chocolate milk. While I was in the opposite room, Orange Kitty decided to somehow unplug the smallish one’s TV. Screaming ensues.

While I’m fixing the TV, the tallish one shrieks from her room. The medicine I’d just given her included some oil for an ear infection, complete with cotton ball. The panic was…”my cotton ball just got lost down my ear and is stuck in my throat.”


I fished the cotton ball out of her sheets, assured her that cotton balls will NOT travel from her ear to anywhere else inside her. This was about the time something touched the back of my knee.

I screamed, she screamed, and her little brother bolted, yelling “I just wanted night-night kisses!!!”

Sometime a couple hours past bedtime, I finally peeked in on two snoring minions, in their own beds, in their own rooms. It was a tough decision not to take a photo of each, because they were just too darn cute…I’m pretty sure the flash would have woken them up and worn out the cuteness real quick.

My son has a radar…

There is apparently a silent alarm that goes off somewhere in his little head when the following happens:

  • Mommy sits at the computer
  • Mommy has a deadline looming in the very near future
  • Mommy thinks he is asleep and runs a bath
  • Mommy kisses daddy

This alarm sounds and immediately spurs him into action…it is suddenly time to either have a walleyed hissy fit or climb something. If the alarm sounds after bedtime, it is his cue to come running out of his room like a banshee on cocaine, careening across the hardwood driving a popcorn popper machine with an Easter bucket on his head.

This is what I deal with every minute of every day…even “at work.”

…an amazing occurrence, considering that both are hidden at least 5 feet from the floor every night as a part of the bedtime ritual. The bedtime ritual that includes 4 hugs, 3 “I lub you’s”, and 2 kisses on each cheek (ours and his).

The Deadline Radar is the worst, especially considering that my “office” is in the living room. Working from home is great in theory, and to those who argue that I “am so lucky” are right in that I don’t have to pay $45 a day for childcare. However, have you ever tried to complete a college-level essay on dental procedures with a two-year-old IN the chair behind you, drawing on your neck with a Sharpie and playing Angry Birds on your ringing cell phone?

It’s no wonder I’m crazy…

Any of you work from home? What are your coping mechanisms?

The Climber found his own personal Utopia today in the form of a high school gym…

I got brave and took him and The Diva to a JV girls’ basketball game. I was actually intending to work, taking some kick-ass photos to send in for the paper I work for.

Turned out I was being a bit ambitious…my goal should have been to just have living breathing minions of which I knew an approximate location for by the last buzzer.

The Guru was busy, and I wanted to see my cousin (the minions’ beloved Aunt Koko) play ball. So I packed up the camera, some pull-ups and back-up pants, and the shortish ones, and off we went.

We joined some relatives and things went smoothly for about 4 minutes…until the Climber got bored with the folding seats that he discovered would swallow his narrow butt at will.

I’m still thanking The Man for the fact that it was a JV game, meaning there wasn’t a huge crowd, and that we were sitting near one end where the minions had a few empty bleachers to terrorize.

I am NOT thankful that Aunt Koko’s mother brought her video camera…

I’m pretty sure these snippets will surface on Facebook to haunt me for years to come…

  • A glance to the side that reveals an upside-down trashcan weaving along the second steps towards us seemingly propelled by two familiar little shoes.
  • Audio of my voice yelling “NO”, “Come back”, “I will SKIN your HIDE,” and my personal favorite…”This video surfaces and I will BEAT your ass.”
  • Me carrying the Climber back UP the stairs…about 17 times.
  • There is a barred barrier on the end of the bleachers (thank you God and coaches), and there is now a video of me shaking and leaning against every bar to make sure it could stand up to a possible attack of 23 pounds of fast-moving child.
  • the Climber making a great inchworm impression.
  • Him stealing a sip from someone’s unattended beverage. Sorry Sir.
  • Him waving and yelling “Bye-Bye” (and grinning oh-so-charmingly) to about twenty strangers.
  • At least one drop-to-the-ground-dying-slug impression when I stopped his umpteenth escape attempt.

All in all, I think I got about 4 decent photos of the game…and no, I don’t have a clue what the score was.

Lots of people have asked me where I got the rant about restaurants and other places moving towards banning kids.

I read several before I got mad enough to come on here to suggest a ban on creepy uncles and generally vent about people who cannot handle the fact that there might be kids in public places…but here are a couple of the articles that sent me into my self-righteous Momma-is-Mad tailspin.

The No-Kids-Allowed Movement is Spreading

Stop Discriminating Against My Kid!

Restaurant Bans on Kids

BTW, I do think that people should teach their kids some manners and actually watch them in public…even I get a little upset at the never-been-disciplined kids who are released into the wild of a Wal-Mart to fend for themselves and crawl under bathroom stalls.

However, I have seen adults do the same (sadly that is completely true), and they’re all still free to roam the grocery store commenting on the tampons in your cart and running you down with their own…

I also don’t take my kids to a nice restaurant on a Saturday night or an R-Rated movie anytime. Most parents actually do show some discretion…heathens that we are 😉

How does everyone else feel? Am I the only one who would have a hissy fit if I got kicked out of a grocery store or fast-food joint for having a child with me on a random Tuesday afternoon?

OMG. I really thought I was beyond being shocked by the general masses…

Apparently not.

There are stores, malls, and restaurants now offering “child-free” hours, days, and even weekends. They’re catering to people seeking peace and quiet when they venture out into public.

Seriously, people???

Yeah, I get it. Kids can be annoying. They’re loud, sticky, and sometimes smelly.

So is your uncle. Can we ban him from the next table so that he’ll quit leering at me when I lean over to wipe a booger off my toddler’s upper lip?

Hey, we mommies aren’t petitioning for a ban on grumpy people who like to scare the bejeezus out of our kids for daring to smile at a stranger!!

Any of you childless peace-seekers ever consider that the frazzled mom who just ran over you with her basket and contaminated your sneakers with kid-kooties might just be trying desperately to get her groceries, get home to feed her kids, and get in bed herself in time to wake up and do it all again?

Try stepping aside and letting her pass. Try saying “excuse me.” Try not standing smack in the middle of an aisle considering the possible consequences of spending 8 cents a pound more on the “new better clumping” kitty litter for 45 minutes.

This just might be her ONE free hour in the day to do the shopping between naps and meals…and you want to ban her from the freaking store so you can hear the “clean-up in aisle seven” voices more clearly?

Afraid you might have to battle for the aisle with a person pushing *gasp* a stroller? Again, step aside and share the aisle.

That family trying to scarf down a meal with their kids at the next table might actually be trying to enjoy their first dinner out in months, and they just can’t afford the meal and a sitter on the same paycheck.

If you want peace, shop at midnight and glare at the people running the floor buffers. If you want quiet, shop with your iPod. If you want to not be near the breeders, stay home and buy your crap on eBay.

And to the stores who think this is a great idea…consider this. People with kids spend more money on stuff and don’t linger in restaurants…they have better things to do than occupy a table for hours pondering the best way to piss off other people.

Just sayin’.

I’m wondering what my son is going to think in the morning when he wakes up and discovers he has Sharpie marks around the fingers of his left hand…

Yes…Sharpie. The permanent marker that I have forbidden both my children from touching because they are…well…permanent. Sort-of.

See, I was working on taking some photos of completed craft projects from my kids Krafty Kits.

Since the Climber is too little to make his projects on his own, I’ve been putting them together for him, and then letting the Diva use them as examples to make her own. The Climber “redecorates” his quite happily while she works.

Everyone wins.

This time, though, I decided to go ahead and get December’s projects ready to photograph so that my mom could use them for advertising.

I decided this while the kids were fast asleep.

Everything was going great, I was channeling my inner child while the Guru watched Storage Wars and plotted the demise of the competition at the next auction we attend…until I got to the cute little googly-eyed Rudolf in the Kit.

Rudolf with his stolen-handprint antlers.

The googly-eyed Rudolf that requires the shape of tiny hands to create his antlers…

I stared for a moment at my own hand while contemplating my free-style drawing ability. Neither possibility was going to be flattering for the foam reindeer.

In a flash of inspiration and with my semi-willing accomplice in tow, I snuck into the kids’ room armed with a piece of paper and a marker.

Tip-toing in time to the SpongeBob theme song playing softly in the background, I crept to my son’s bed and eased his little hand out from under Raffe (stuffed giraffe that MUST accompany bed and nap times).

There in the dark, with my husband holding the paper and trying to get the limp little hand to lay flat on the paper that was shaking from his almost-silent laughter, I snickered my way through a rough outline of a little hand. The whole thing was ridiculous and we kept cracking up in those stage-whispers that are always somehow deafening in a quiet room.

About the time the Climber stirred and re-claimed his hand to grab Raffe again, we couldn’t hold the laughter anymore and had to bolt.

After laughing in the hall for a few minutes, I had a thought that sent me into hysterics again. I couldn’t explain what was so funny because I couldn’t breathe!!

The only answer was to grab a flashlight and creep back into Never-land to show him what was so much funnier than our secret mission had been.

Sure enough, there wrapped around Raffe’s neck, was the tiny hand…each finger with a line of black around the edge.

I sort-of expect to wake up in the morning and discover that my son has added “what the hell???” to his growing vocabulary…


My kids have a LOT of crap. I knew this, but it didn’t really sink in until I waded in there yesterday armed with a box marked “garage sale” and a trash bag.

I came out four hours later with 5 garage sale boxes, 4 FULL trashbags, and a box of the dishes that I’ve been searching for.

I found treasure, trash, and things that made me go “hmmm…”

Best in Treasures:

  • 6 HotWheels that we thought were gone for good
  • 2 Barbies…sans clothing
  • A Barbie leg…that did not match the above-mentioned Barbies
  • My favorite coffee mug
  • 9 socks
  • A tennis shoe, a houseshoe, and a flip flop
  • A cat (seriously…he snuck in while I was working…with the help of the Climber)
  • 2 sheets of stickers that had never been stuck on anything
  • My slate grey eyeliner
  • Lots of batteries
  • Goodnight Moon
  • 4 Littlest Pet Shop critters

Best in Trash:

  • Lots and lots of discarded papers and tissues…of course
  • 2 half-licked-clean suckers
  • What I think was once a Tootsie Roll (I hope)
  • My son’s cracker stash
  • My daughter’s rock stash
  • A bundle of dead dandelions
  • A lock of my daughter’s hair…that we thankfully had (apparently) never missed

Best of the Things that made me go Hmmm:

  • What “Flart” goo apparently does when it dries to a bedpost
  • Play-Doh rocks
  • Lots of little animals wearing clothing from the naked Barbies
  • My son’s suitcase…packed and ready to go courtesy of the Diva
  • Roughly 57 movies in the wrong cases
  • Chapstick stash IN the CD player
  • Something green and glittery in a teacup
  • Something pink and sticky in the oven of the play kitchen
  • Something fuzzy under the bed (later identified as the wayward cat)

The garage sale boxes were full of outgrown clothes and unused toys.

The biggest treasure of all…


WOW…if any of you people that know me well happened to pop up on my doorstep right now and attempt entry into my house, you would be in for a BIG surprise…

You know I’m fairly organized, as I have OCD and I like to have room to walk around (toys aside, that is a battle Oscar cannot win). Therefore the fact that you can’t get into the front door because of the big pile of dresser drawers might come as a surprise…along with the drawerless (yeah, made that one up) naked dresser in front of the couch where the coffee table usually resides.

There is a coffee table in the center of the room with an upside down end table on top of it, accompanied by another random drawer. The North wall is lined with a baby swing, bouncy seat, and car seat that neither of my kids fit into anymore. Fifteen (yes, fifteen) wicker baskets are scattered about the floor, and the vacuum cleaner cord snakes through it all like a skinny anaconda.

At random intervals, the Princess prances through with a limp (she has stitches in her foot) wearing a neon green dress, a tiara, and purple flip-flops. The Prince tears through at equally random intervals, naked, pushing a doll stroller filled with a book, a sippy cup, and a terrified and resigned kitten.

There are no curtains on six windows of the house, and there is a pile of rugs in a corner.

The dryer is running, the dishwasher is running, and I’m pretty sure (thanks to the Prince) the bathtub is running. This very computer is playing a mix of new country and old rock, and the TV is (for once) silent. Oh yeah, the coffee pot is brewing, too.

There used to be a loveseat and a blue recliner in here, but they have given way to a giant pile of clothes bound for the local thrift store (with all the baby stuff), and an assortment of jackets, coats, and sweaters. The couch is still visible, if you can scale a blanket rack and jump. The back cushions are in the floor, though.

"The Mess"

What my normally pretty and inviting living room has been reduced to.


I’m pretty sure even the goldfish is peering through his glass picture window in awed terror.

Thanks Mom, for the theoretical protocol that pulling out and disassembling the entire home in the endeavor to “clean it right” is the “only” one that works! You’re right about one thing…if I ever find my living room floor again, the feeling of accomplishment will be overwhelmingly wonderful.

Or else I’ll have lost my mind by then and just be grateful for a solid surface in which to sit and rock.

Ok…my break is over, I am going to go dive back into the fray. If you don’t hear from me in a few days, send over a garbage truck and the people in the white coats with the giant butterfly nets…

We’re all doing great…

The matching goose-eggs and bruises on my children’s foreheads (Passing Along the KLUTZ Gene) are much better. They no longer look like they’re each sprouting a demon horn out the front of their head. In fact, for once, they don’t look battered except for a couple of skinned knees and the usual shin-bone bruises!!

I am no longer wearing a character band-aid on my ass (The SpongeBob Band-Aid on my Left Buttcheek).

So all is right on the Back 40 of Hell’s Half Acre…for the moment.

I should probably admit though, that it is 4:30am and the minions are both sleeping. I have gotten a lot done tonight, and I am ready to throw a garage sale tomorrow morning.

Yes…out here in the boonies. Willfullness and a stubborn nature will prevail! Along with a whole bunch of cardboard signs and brightly colored flyers. I wonder if I should let Cheyenne sell lemonade???  Or beer? Hehee!

Therefore, if you would like something completely random and cheap, come on over tomorrow. I have everything you need!

Minions and cats are for sale at the right price, and to a good home.

Loopy cowdogs and Greyote Hounds are FREE!!!

Anyway…yeah, that was it. G’Night!