There are no words to describe the tragedy in Oklahoma. My thoughts and prayers are with the entire community. The video and pictures coming out of Moore, Ok are heartbreaking.
This story gave me goosebumps.
I would like to apologize to our neighbors and plead with them not to call child protective services. My 6-year-old was not being abused last night in spite of the screams reverberating through the street. He lost a tooth. Yes, that is it. He loses his mind at the sight of blood. Actually, he goes to the school nurse for even the tiniest scratch. His tooth was dangling by a very thin thread. With one gentle twist it broke loose.
Once the tears dried my kids were imaging aloud what the tooth fairy might bring. My 3-year-old daughter, who obviously just returned to 2013 via a DeLorean equip with a flux capacitor, said ,”The tooth fairy is going to bring chocolate coins wrapped in gold paper.” Settle down Willie Wonka. The penny candy store closed a few decades ago. In our town it was a little corner shop in the basement of a house called “Quartley’s.” What the hell were our parents thinking sending us in there alone? Mr. Quartley was absolutely miserable. Can you blame him? We would go into the store with a quarter and leave with 10 different pieces of candy. I will take one Sour Patch Kid, two juju fish, one tootsie roll, etc. Mr. Quartley scooped the candy into small brown bags with his bare hands. We didn’t ask or even care if he washed his hands after taking a #2. His hairy fingers were the only thing standing between us and sugar.
My oldest told my 6-year-old he would get money under his pillow. I envisioned my son nagging me to take him to the store to spend the $5. He would be pissed when he realized five bucks doesn’t even buy a bubble wand. My kindergartner must think the Tooth Fairy is related to Santa Claus because he declared, “The tooth fairy is going to bring me a toy!” He smiled revealing the cute gap in his mouth.
F***! I was ready for bed, but couldn’t let my son down. So, I drove to Walmart at 9 o’clock. I purchased a new Superman Lego because I haven’t stepped on nearly enough Legos. I actually walked around all day with a Lego arm down my shirt. It’s the most action I’ve gotten in a while.
The Lego cost slightly
more than a $5 payout. However, If I didn’t go to Walmart late at night I would have missed seeing a man wearing a dog collar, a woman watching a movie on the Vizio flat screen TVs or my husband’s Father’s Day gift:
My son woke up this morning and immediately noticed the toy and note.
You are a good boy! Now, that you lost your first tooth you are becoming a big boy! Good job!
Love,
The Tooth Fairy
My 6-year-old said, “That’s nice, but I wish she would have left me a coin.” So, I could’ve saved $19.75? (Sigh)
I am guilty of road rage. Well, it’s actually watered down road rage. I am not a complete lunatic. I haven’t crashed my car into another vehicle or assaulted anyone. I bite my tongue most of the time when my children are in the car. However, when you are going through perimenopause some things are out of your control. Most recently, I yelled at a driver who didn’t turn right when the light was red. “It’s right on RED,” I shouted through my windshield. He didn’t hear me because we were separated by glass and metal. My kids were watching Tangled Ever After for the millionth time at an ear pounding volume. You aren’t tied down Rapunzel. Jump out of the damn tower already. “Come oooonnnn! Right on red. Right on red!” My low pitched screams sounded eerily similar to “Red rum! Red rum!” Listen, I was late to an appointment. I am always late. At this point I was perspiring and close to foaming at the mouth while Mandy Moore sang in the background. “Oh, what the hell! Go, you idiot!” My daughter asked, “What’s wrong Mommy?” I took a deep breath. Mommy was acting like a complete fool. Comic Louis CK has a great bit about road rage. It makes me laugh out loud every time I watch it.
My daughter has Spidey senses. She can smell food long after it has entered my digestive system. “Mom, what are you eating?” Nothing. Well, not nothing, but it’s mine. Kids take everything from you. I do have my very own candy stash hidden in my house. Caramels, butterscotch discs and root beer barrels are a few of my favorites. (I am going to be very popular at the nursing home.) I know if I share with my daughter my son will want one. Then, my husband will find them. Today I tried to sneak a few Tootsie Rolls before taking my daughter to the park. We have a play set at our house, but it didn’t come with a kid whose nose is constantly oozing snot, an obnoxious mother smoking a cigarette while pushing her toddler on the swing or sexually explicit graffiti. So, my daughter insists on using the public swings and slides. I was helping with her shoes when my 3-year-old daughter began sniffing my face like a dog. “What are you eating?” Nothing. I already ate it. She leans in a little closer. “I smell something yummy.” Nope, not here. Sniff, Sniff. “It’s candy.” I don’t know what you are talking about. Tears. “I want one!” Damn it. .
Now, I don’t have anything left in my candy stash. If I can’t binge on junk food what the hell am I supposed to do on a Friday night? At least I still have ecards to make me happy. This one made me giggle:
Sometimes a trip to Walmart brings me such joy. It’s not because it’s one big pajama party. Every so often you discover astonishing merchandise.
Close your eyes and step back into 1991. You are in the club, rocking bike shorts and a neon shirt when the dj spins some C+C Music Factory. File this one under “Things That Make You Go Hmmmmmm….”
I wish I could have been in the conference room when this brilliant idea was pitched.
Designer: I have an idea that is going to take this company to the next level. It’s a (dramatic pause) t-shirt that looks like a dress shirt. Oh, but it’s not just any dress shirt. We give the illusion that the man is wearing a sweater and a bow tie. We don’t stop there. There will be a name tag on the sweater where we quote an overplayed song by a group that broke up. It says Hello I’m….Sexy and I Know It.
Bam! They are mass produced. You can expect it to be worn this summer at the county fair or fire hall wedding reception.
I was told this morning that I looked “tiny.” I am 5’7 1/2 and the only tiny thing on my body is my pinky toe. Even it is larger than average and bends slightly inward. I have been working out, but don’t feel thinner. I definitely feel older, having to ice my achy body after every cardio routine. I am not trying to be a size 2. I run, lift, lunge, etc. to maintain my sanity. Now that I am home more with the kids I need all the natural endorphins I can get. The next person who says “It must be nice that you don’t have to work” is going to get punched in the face. Bitches, Dolly Parton had it easy. I would kill to clock in at nine and out at five.
I try to set aside at least 45 minutes several times a week to exercise. If my kids interrupt I give the hand signal. Unless they are bleeding or about to bleed it can wait. Your sister took your spot on the couch? Talk to the hand You want a snack even though we finished dinner five minutes ago? Talk to the hand He is copying you? Talk to the hand My daughter is the only one who doesn’t quite understand. So, on occasion, I cave and read Cinderella books while running on the treadmill.
Another Mom at my son’s school inquired about my workout routine.
Before I could open my mouth to answer he blurted out, “Yeah she sweats a lot. I mean, A LOT! It’s disgusting.” Phew! I almost had a little confidence before that comment. We wouldn’t want that would we? Then again, maybe having too much confidence is a bad thing. Take for example, the teenage girl at my son’s tennis match tonight. She was so proud of her body she was letting it all hang out. I will give her the benefit of the doubt that she misunderstood her Mom’s instructions. Perhaps she thought she was going to the OBGYN instead of playing tennis again. This cartoon summarizes how I feel about her summer attire:
My kids have always been well behaved on airplanes. It could be that (A.) I am a good Mom who raised them right or (B.) I put the fear of Jesus in them before we go through security.
They have witnessed what would happen if they acted like animals. We saw an entire family get booted from a flight because the toddler was having a tantrum and wouldn’t sit in her seat. The fabulous steward had zero patience for whining kids. He warned the Mom once and that was it. I overheard him say to another flight attendant, “Tell the pilot we have to turn this bitch around.”
I am not sure if that same steward would have thrown this woman off the plane. I think he may have joined in on the chorus or challenged her to a sing-off. If you haven’t read the news story, this broad was thrown off an American Airlines flight for refusing to stop singing Whitney Houston songs. You just cannot make this stuff up. The passenger next to her who got the coveted window seat must play for Team Bobby. Although brief, this video is an instant classic.
I remember making empty threats when I was a kid. “I am going to runaway and you will never see me again!” I was just mad because I didn’t get my way. Perhaps my Mom wouldn’t buy me the neon orange jelly shoes I wanted. Maybe she told me to turn down my cassette player because I was blasting Janet Jackson’s “Control.” Regardless, I had no intention of living under a bridge. Where would I store my scrunchies and Aqua Net?
My 3-year-old daughter is already a feisty one. She recently informed me she was looking for a new Mom. I asked her if she was using Craig’s List or placing an ad in the newspaper. She was upset because I wouldn’t allow her eat Starbursts for dinner. No, you will eat those damn French fries and like it!
My 6-year-old came up with an unique way to punish me. He was angry tonight because it was time for bed. I know it can be pretty shocking when you have the same routine 365 days a year. He stormed into the bathroom faster than Jaime Lee Curtis. I assumed he was going to brush his teeth until my oldest came into my bedroom giggling. “Um, he is threatening to put his foot in the toilet if you make him go to sleep.” My kindergartener was standing with his size two foot dangling over the loo. My husband and I looked at one another in disbelief. Who would have to give the We don’t put our feet in toilets speech? Before we could play rock, paper, scissors our 6-year-old appeared. His sock was dry. Apparently, he realized dipping his toes in urine and s*** would hurt anybody, but himself. He cracked a smile and we all laughed. Then, we closed the bathroom door and went to bed.
Children are bi-polar. That was the same kid who painted this beautiful picture for me :
This may be the greatest Ryan Gosling YouTube video thus far. Eye candy + funny =
Happy Mother’s Day to all the amazing Mom’s I know, especially my own. She is an incredible woman. I love you Mom!
This is my favorite Mother’s Day gift :
I am blessed to have three amazing children. “I will love you forever, like you for always, as long as I’m living, my babies you’ll be.”
