Cool Costumes

It was after the school Halloween party. Mom asked young Davis what his friends were for Halloween. His little, sad response: "I don't know. I couldn't recognize anyone."

Lady in Red

We moms are highly familiar with the morning drill. It goes a little something like this: Grab your jacket. Get your book bag. Do you have your book? Is your homework in your folder? Where's you lunch box? Smooch, Smooch...see you after school. Love you.

My friend pulled up to her kids' school this morning and started the "morning drill."

Mom: Aiden, Where's your folder?
Aiden: I don't know.
Mom: Look for it.
Aiden: I don't see it.
Mom: It has to be somewhere in this van.
Aiden: All I see is a beautiful lady in red.

What a sweet talker. He's going to make a wonderful husband some day.

Wife: Where's the mail?
Aiden: I don't know.
Wife: Could you look for it?
Aiden: I don't see it.
Wife: I brought it inside. It has to be somewhere in this house.
Aiden: Honey, all I see is a beautiful lady in red.

The plot thickens...

Just to recap, my husband took our 15-year-old son and two other boys to the hockey game Friday night. They ate their way through all three periods and then stopped for White Castle burgers on the way home. About an hour later our son did a perfect
re-enactment of The Exorcist in his bathroom.

The plot thickens the next morning when we get into his truck and White Castle wrappers fall out the door. I counted six wrappers in my son's seat. Dad then sheepishly shares that the boys, "had a contest to see who could eat the most burgers in 10 minutes." It was just like CSI. The evidence spoke for itself.

YIKES!!!

Our fifteen-year-old son Jarrod just did a reenactment of THE EXORCIST. Two hot dogs, popcorn, onion rings and two large sodas at the hockey game with Dad was pushing it, but the six White Castle burgers on the way home sent him over the edge. Kudos to his dad for taking the lead on the clean up crew. Suffice it to say it was NOT pretty.

Broken

So.....I sent my fifteen-year-old son to school Monday morning in one piece. He came home broken. While getting into his locker after school he was pushed from behind and broke his wrist. He says it was just a kid that got a little too rowdy. "It's not a big deal, Mom." My boy has a sweet, gentle spirit and would never want anyone to get in trouble...very forgiving.
His nineteen-year-old mother hen of a big sister---not so much! When she found out about her little brother's broken wrist she called Dad from college and had this to say, "I want to know who did it and I want to know NOW. I will take care of it!" While I'm fearful that she's ordering a hit even as we speak, in a crazy, dysfunctional way it warms my heart that she has her brother's back.
Her "broken" brother, on the other hand, is more concerned about calling the doctor to get permission to play badminton in PE than planning retribution.
Different kids. Different out-looks on life. Same amount of never-ending love.

Down on the Farm

On a recent trip to Grant's Farm six-year-old Carter enjoyed feeding the goats. In fact, he told his mom those goats were "on their best behavior."

Baby Shower

Went camping this weekend with my Brownie troop. Trust me, I'm not a nature girl. So...this was a BIG DEAL for me. Saturdays in October always seem busy, so we had several mommies and one daddy tag-teaming to make it an experience the girls wouldn't forget. Some mommies came and went shuttling girls back and forth to soccer games and previous commitments. One mommy stayed all night, but left early to attend a baby shower.
When we woke up Saturday morning at sunrise the first thing we did was throw on our shoes with our flannel jammies, gather the girls and hike to the bathroom. While the girls took turns brushing, rinsing and spitting I basked in the glory of their chatter. Had to smile when I stumbled upon this conversation at the sinks:

"Where did Mrs. S go?"
"She had to go to a baby shower."
"What's a baby shower?"
"I think that's where they sprinkle water over a baby's head."
"oh"

Don't Say Cheese...Say Checklist

Kindergarten student Carter is very excited for his first picture day at school. Last night he made a checklist to get ready. Mom wrote down exactly what he told her. Today he jumped out of bed, grabbed the list and started marking them off (in order of course.) He decided to save his list in his bedroom in case he ever has another picture day and to remember this ..."the best day of my life".

Who Knows?

Today our little two-year-old friend, who shall remain nameless, came over to play. He got a little excited at one point and started hitting my nine year old with a pretend microphone he was playing with. Eventually, she took it away from him and put it away. About 15 minutes later he wandered in to see me.

In an innocent voice he walked up to me and said, "Hey, where is that thing." "Well," I said, "Were you hitting with it?" SILENCE. "Did you hit someone with it?" SILENCE. Holding back a smile I tried one more time: "What were you doing with it?" With an extremely indignant look on his face he replied in a crisp, offended tone, "I. Do. Not. Know."

Future politician?

Sweet Seconds

Yesterday our 15-year-old son came through the kitchen on his way outside and asked his nine-year-old sister if she wanted to go outside with him. When she asked, "Why?" Jarrod said, "Just feel like getting outside." With a beaming smile on her face little sister followed him out. For a few sweet seconds I basked in the glory of my "babies" actually choosing to spend time with eachother. It was a nice Mommy moment.

Big Boys Don't Cry

My friend and I recently took our kids to see a movie adapted from a beloved children's book. The kids sat "by themselves" one row over. Loved the movie. I laughed. I cried(even though my friend made fun of me for doing so). As the movie ended and the lights went up, I noticed that the girls' eyes were a little red. Turns out they too were laughing and shedding some tears. After all, that's what good movies do! While chatting it up with the girls to see what parts made them cry, eight-year-old Aiden piped up, " I almost cried, but I didn't...because I'm a man."

A different kind of answering machine

This morning I went into eight-year-old Mary Jae's room to wake her up for school.

Me: "It's time to get up."
Me: "I let you sleep as long as possible."
Me: "Rise and shine sleepy head."
Me: "Seriously. We only have 30 minutes until we have to leave for school."

Mary Jae remained in bed. Without opening her eyes this is what she said in her best automated voice:

"I'm sorry. Mary Jae is unavailable at this time. BEEP!"

I had to laugh out loud. What choice did I have?