What was I thinking?!?!

I'm such a sucker.  I saw that more preschool Sunday School teachers were needed so I said I could help out (Dexter must have been with the kids for most of that day or I would have been in my right mind and said no - rephrase: in my normal state of mind - there is nothing right about it though).  I review the lesson, get the craft ready, outline the main points of the Bible story and in general look forward to it...

What was I thinking?!?!  I barely keep my cool with my own two kids and I love them - a lot.  Now I'm stuck in a room of ten kids ranging 3-5 years old who don't want to color, don't want to share, don't want to sit down, listen or obey.  And to top it off, I'm at church so I cannot cuss!  It was horrible.  Apparently I am a strict momma because only one other kid besides little Flip had any manners. 

Thank goodness its a monthly rotation and I have the next two off.  I think I need to ask for a different age group though since teaching (really its just babysitting) is making my Sundays very unholy.

Warning!

Pretty much everything ever made has a warning or safety cap.  I used to either laugh at or be annoyed by those.  Who really needs all these baby proof caps?  Obviously they are for those parents with problem children.  Seriously, who cannot control their one year old?  Hmmmm?

Um, that would be me.  Those warnings were written for me and my Vivian.  We had a serious scare the other day when Vivian found a pill of some sort. Unbeknowst to us, she shoved it in her mouth - like everything else - and ate it.  Why not, it could be sweet like candy?  So after an evening of fun at the in-laws, from 9:30 at night to 6 am the next day Vivian was confused, energetic, eating, but certainly not sleeping.  It was awful.  I rushed her to the ER but there was no need to rush since we were seen 4 hours later.

After racking our brains and going through all the possibilities the doctor was confident she got hold of one of the pills my father in law takes.  They haven't had to really baby-proof in twenty years because when Flip was around he was easy breezy and never stuck things in his mouth. Basically he was not one of those kids.  But Vivian certainly is. 

Hopefully this is some sign of superior intelligence - all this searching and discovery through the mouth.  At least that's what I'm going to tell myself.  I remember thinking how crazy Flip was.  Boy was I wrong.  Wrong enough to beg God that my next child be a girl.  He must be laughing now. 

But the moral of the story is Baby Proof Baby Proof Baby Proof!  

Tattletale

Flip is a sweet little boy.  He is polite and loves his preschool.  He plays with his dogs, give spontanious hugs and all the other cute, endearing things that four year olds do.  But, he is four, therefore, he is a tattletale.

"MOM, Vivian is on my bed!"
"MOM, Vivian took my red truck!"
"MOM, Vivian opened the door...Vivian is bothering me...Vivian is in my way...Vivian is sitting on the dog...Vivian took her shoe off...Vivian is eating a cracker..."

If she sneezes, coughs, blinks, or moves I hear about it.  But how is it that Flip doesnt think its important to tell me that she is in his bathroom squirting glass cleaner all over the place and herself?  Hmm?  I thought he was my vigilante.  I guess since she was making Flip laugh and not irritating him it was OK to let this little behavior pass.  Clearly I need to teach him the difference between what is and is not worthy of telling me.  Clearly I need to babyproof the bathroom!

 

The Full School Folder

When Flip started his little Mother's Morning Out program he would do some cute little crafts and coloring pages.  I would see his art skills on display in the school hallway or once a month when it was sent home to me.  This was a good arrangement for me. 

Then his second year he had different teachers who thought I would be delighted to have more partially colored paper lying around my house (if you are one of those people that every time you visit home you pull out your artwork folder that your mom kept for you and weep over your talent then stop reading because I am going to share some horrible truths).  I mean, seriously, do the teachers really think that I will do anything but toss the legal size construction paper with the cotton balls glued on it?  School hallways are notoriously dull, that artwork should stay there!

Of course when Flip explains to me that this scribble in red is a fire truck and this one is a shark I pay close attention and tell him how proud I am of him.  But when he is off in his room or glued to the TV I toss it in the trash (or I will mail it to one of my sisters because I feel guilty about throwing it all away).  It works out most of the time - except when he sees it crumpled in the trash and is reduced to tears.  I will then immediately blame it on Dexter.

This year is the start of Preschool for him.  And to my utter delight (HA) I get a folder filled with paper and practice work EVERY SINGLE DAY!  So this first month of school he brought home 21 papers with letter tracing...sure I get to see his progress, but that doesn't mean I will keep it.  I am much better about how I discard it now though. 

I do keep some things (but never any kit from Oriental Trading).  So far I have one picture that I intend to get framed.  It is truly a work of art.  It was Flip's first stick figure drawing.  The picture is titled "My Baby Sister." Is that not the sweetest, cutest, most adorable thing you have ever seen!?!?!?  This is not going in a folder of things I will save for my kids to look back on, this is going on the wall!

The garage door...

Its twilight in the burbs.  The kids are up from their naps (which means they have way too much energy) and the dogs are antsy because they ready to be fed.  I'm trying to cook something for dinner and then out of all the noises I hear all day long, I finally hear what I now consider the best sound in the world: the garage door opening.

Flip runs to the back door, the dogs go nuts and run around barking, and Vivian squeals like only a little girl can while she dances or jumps.  Everyone crowds around the back door.  DADDY'S HOME!!!

I had a friend who asked if I squealed and danced too.  "No," I said.  "I sigh with relief and head for the wine rack."

Kids & Dogs

As you may know I have two large dogs.  Like my kids, I love them, but find I have less patience for them than is really required.  I have found some other similarities between my 4 children and as I laugh, in the back of my mind I am worried that this may be a trend.

First, the dogs use the facilities outdoors.  While I was potty training Flip I would point this out to show him how easy it is and that most folks relieve themselves in places other than their pants - even dogs.  So naturally, he wants to pee outside (and occasionally poo as I have been informed by the neighbors).  It was cute a first but not so much now.  We spend a lot of time outside and Flip still asks if he can "Go pee in a bush."

Second, after a long walk I will turn the hose on and let the dogs drink from it.  For some reason this is way more fun than drinking from their water dish (see I'm not all mean and spite, I let the people and animals I care for have things that they like).  Well on a particularly hot day after our morning walk, I turned the hose on and let the dogs have their fill.  As I walk to shut it off I see Vivian out of the corner of my eye.  She has picked up and the hose and is drinking from it.  She must have been thirsty since this went on for a few minutes.

Third, I have noticed that Vivian now will have her quiet time (for you non-parents this is the time that children have run out of energy and sit or lay down quietly; it is rare and a child should never be roused from this state prematurely) on the dogs' bed.  She will often go there and the dogs will stand there and look from me to her.  I imagine them asking - if they could - if I would move the small child from their bed. 

These three instances are not very alarming, but if you stop and see the trend you might shudder to think what they will pick up on next.  Like will they start to lick?  Or growl (oh, well there is #4, Vivian growls all the time)?  The dogs are looking to be more like older siblings that teach the younger bad habits, but instead of cuss words the kids are learning how to do things that don't require opposable thumbs.

Baby Fever

I was at a little get-together for the holiday weekend and a young woman watched Vivian play (in a non-baby proofed house EEEK).  While she sat there, smiling at Vivian she made the comment that she had baby fever.  As any normal mother of a one year old, I told her exactly what she was missing.

I asked her if she enjoyed sitting down...for more than two minutes at a time.  She did not answer, but merely looked confused.  Then I asked if she likes to sleep in late at least one a day a week or sleep through the night ever.  A scowl appears on her face.  Then I asked if she likes to read, think, dress, shower, drive, go out, speak or any other common activity without being interrupted, climbed on or listening to incessant crying.  The scowl lifts and is replaced with a mixture of realization and fear.

Poor girl, I burst her little motherhood bubble.  Its not all naps and cute outfits.  Its a lot of hard work.  I wasn't being mean, just honest.  We all want a accurate job description before we sign up for work!

New logo Onsie ideas

Instead of "Daddy loves me"
 try "Daddy is really not watching me" or "Daddy is watching the game"

Instead of "Cute" Precious" or "Adorable"
 try "Whiny" "Stinky" or "Bank account drainer"

Instead of an image of a bottle with "Happy Hour" underneath
 try "My mom needs a Happy Hour"

Happy?

The other day someone asked (I suspect after reading my blog) if I was happy.  That is a tough question.  I try to be content with my situation, I really do.  But just for fun, lets break this down and look at it bit by bit...

Normal job:  Wake up, shower, drink coffee, get dressed ,drive to work.

Me: Wake up and try to creep out of bed so the kids dont hear me so maybe I can make my coffee before they wake up, but Vivian wakes up and starts crying.  That wakes up Flip so he bounds out of bed asking to play cars, wants me to make him toast and turn on some cartoons all at the same time.  He will request all these things over and over again until all three are complete.  Dogs whine to go out.  Vivian is still crying.  No coffee yet.  Get the toast going, let the dogs out, start making lunches.  Vivian is now clutching my legs and crying and Flip is asking where his toast is.  Dogs go nuts and chase an old neighbor down so I run outside and get them back inside.  Vivian is now screaming because I left her.  Flip is really ready for his toast.  Still no coffee.  The toast is made and I am reminded of how I did not turn on the cartoons yet.  Vivian has stopped crying and is now demanding her BITES.  The dogs are whining to be fed.  Cartoons on, Vivian fed, dogs fed and finally I can brew my coffee.  I look up after my first sip and see school starts in 5 minutes!  Turn off TV while Flip protests that the show is not over and now he is in a bad mood. He takes his time getting in the shower, but finally does.  Change Vivian, let dogs back outside, put backpack in the car, get dogs back in, shut off water in shower since Flip refuses to, wrestle clothes on Flip.  Race to the car, buckle Vivian in but not Flip because he KNOWS how to do it, then get back out and buckle Flip in because really he doesnt know how.  Drive to school and make mental note to not get out or talk to anyone since I'm in my pjs and have not had a chance to brush my teeth.

And folks that is just my first hour of the day...It continues like that all day and into the evening.  I try to clean and do laundry while being a mom.  No one really listens so I find myself repeating the same instructions all day long.  I dont get a break unless both kids are napping and Dexter gets home around 9pm because he coaches to make extra money.   Its a tough existence at the moment so I blog to say the things I would never utter to my children.  Sarcasm makes me smile. 

While I do this without pay and no days off for the next 20 years I really do adore my children.  They are healthy and sweet to each other and when they smile it melts my hardened heart.  But unfortunately it re hardens repeatedly throughout my long day.

Budget

The budget we have in place is a necessity.  A few years back Dexter discovered Dave Ramsey.  And ever since we have strived to pay off school loans, credit cards and pay everything in cash.  Although it has cramped my shopping style, it has been a marriage saver.

But its not without its difficulties.  We decided (before Flip hit the terrible twos) that I should raise the kids - not some daycare.  So we budget everything based off of Dexter's salary which sadly has not increased in relation to the size of the family or Flip's growth spirt rates.

So I tend to be very conscious of wasteful behaviors.  For example, this Sunday (which is supposed to be my day to get just me ready NOT the kids, so naturally I get the kids ready) Flip was dispensing way too much toothpaste onto his brush.  I immediately scolded him (rather loudly) so Dexter comes to his aide.  He gets frustrated when I yell at the children, but someone has to keep a tight ship.  That toothpaste is not overly expensive, but neither is the shampoo that he squirted out all over the shower, or the toast and yogurt he left half eaten that morning. 

Its tough being the family asset manager - which is what Dexter tells folks instead of me being a stay at home mom.  I now see my mother in a much better light.  I just thought she was mean and cheap (we never had name brand stuff)...no, she just made sure we had money to pay for everything we needed.  Good job Mom!

Good to know

Occasionally I have time to watch the news or listen to the radio.  And recently, instead of turning it off in annoyance, I heard something that made me smile. 

Did you know that coffee is good for you?  So is wine and chocolate.  Do you know what this means...it means that my vices (OK not all of them - specifically yelling at inanimate objects because they wont need therapy later) are doctor approved!  I have always said that there is not much in life that a little wine and chocolate cannot cure.

And coffee is how I jump start my day and lately my afternoon as well.  Its true, coffee was a monrning thing, but now I have come to depend on it in the afternoon because Flip has decided that he no longer needs naps.  Thank goodness he goes to preschool so I can have a break in the stream of food and "play with me" requests.

The Law of Diminishing Returns

This famous economic law can be applied to motherhood as well .  Simply insert your own words!  This could be a great mom's drinking game!

If one factor increases while the rest remain constant then the overall returns will diminish after a certain point.

 For example:

If the number of children born in your home increases while your husbands income remains constant then overall it will suck...sooner than later.

If the number of loads of laundry increase while the number of arms you have remains constant then you will be tired after the 3rd load.

If the amount of weight you gain increases while the number of size 6 clothes remains constant then you will be standing in your closet crying while trying to explain to your husband that nothing fits and to keep his slimy hands off of you.

If the number of hours running around yelling "NO" and "STOP THAT" increase while the hours your husband watches TV remains constant then HE will start to experience diminishing returns :)

Isn't this fun??!?!?! Try it!

Babies and Bitches

As a mom of two adorable kids, I really understand the need to be away from them for long periods of time.  A few hours with friends has amazing restorative properties because usually those few hours include the consumption of my two favorite things - wine and chocolate.

No parenting magazine has the article about how parents need to forget their parents for an evening (the only way turn your mind off from parenting mode is to drink - that's why God made wine...Jesus' first miracle actually).  That's something you discover on your own when you are crying in the bathroom because its the only place you can escape.

So skip the tears in the bathroom and call a friend.  Or join a little group just for moms.  That's what I did!

But it sucks.  I traded my whining babies in for a bunch of bitching moms just like me.  SHIT.  I need everyone to listen to ME!  Not vie for the groups' attention with their latest sob story.  I clearly picked the wrong group.  Every mom out there is going nuts no matter how crisply her oxford is ironed.  We all go a little mad.  Who wouldn't after saying "No dear, please stop" 478 times in one morning (except mine is like this "ARGH! FLIP, FRICKIN STOP!!!!!!!!!!"

I was tricked!  Lured to the group by moms with cardigans and make up on.  Don't fall for it.  Its only a mask of the insanity that resides within.  And if you cannot be with a group of moms and say how much you hate your current situation without scowls or ridicule then you should get up and leave.  Find a friend who will drink with you, cry with you and just nod in the affirmative.  Sometimes that's all you need...as long as the kids are not anywhere close by.

The need for a mom "time out" is imperative.  Never forget that, but beware trading in that valuable baby-free time for a bunch of bitches...I mean bitching moms!

Movie night

Dexter and I had a movie night.  It was nice, the kids were asleep, we had our cheap bottle of wine open and poured and we settled in for one of our favorites "Return to Me."  Its a sweet movie with a great Rat Pack soundtrack.  There was a side story that I did overlook.  One of the main characters friends is a mother of 5.  Her life was chaos! Every scene depicted her being overrun by kids - whining, fighting, scolding.  It was not a pretty picture.  I noticed a scowl upon my face and then I look over to Dexter who is absolutely beaming. 

Throughout the movie there are these scenes that make me want to cry not because of the sweet love story but because I feel like that mom.  Never a moment to myself.  There has never been a complete cure for self centeredness other than motherhood - not parenthood.  Fathers, like the one in the movie, are oblivious or impervious to the noise, chaos and trama that children bring into the lives of their mothers.  The father in this movie laughed, drank, left the house for work (so he had many children free hours) and came home and wanted to jump into bed. 

This family probably wouldnt stand out in the movie to non parents, but it certainly had an impact on both Dexter and me.  While I cringed at the horror of long days, laundry, cleaning, broken record repitition of rules, cooking, etc.  Dexter smiled.  He looks confused when he glances at me.  I told him now was not a good time to start the "lets have more kids" conversation.  My life is insanity already, I cannot imagine adding another kid to the mix.

Holiday = Holidull

Why do I do this?  Why do I always agree to do these group family fun gatherings?  Its a holiday weekend and one would imagine that having an extra day at home with the hubby would be delightful you know an extra hand to fold laundry or someone to play with the kids so you could have a quiet moment to think...well, its not.  Its more mess, more noise and strangely more work.  Allow me to elaborate:

More mess because I have to cook breakfast, lunch and dinner instead of one meal.  Also my kids are usually strapped into a plastic chair that can be hosed off, but Dexter has free reign of the house, so the mess just follows him.  Its like that kid from the Charlie Brown cartoon that is surrounded by a constant cloud of dust. 

More noise because the TV is on, loud music is playing, the dogs are all worked up and barking, its "Vicki, have you seen this?"  "Vicki, where is the remote?!?!"  And other time sensitive questions about missing shoes and cell phones.  I am not everyones' keeper! 

More work because Dexter wants to nap, play a game or watch a show or just about anything as long as he doesn't have to actually look after the kids.  So the kids are still with me, but they whine so much more because they know their daddy is just in the other room!  Its tough.  I think I prefer the weekdays.  Yup, I sure do.

But that's just the normal weekend.  A three day weekend is all that plus FFF.

Dexter says: Lets go to the in-laws  - FANTASTIC - and have a barbecue - JOY, I GET TO COOK - with all the neighbors - I GET TO COOK FOR LOTS OF PEOPLE - its at five pm - OH, YOU MEAN THE KIDS NAP TIME - and I will play basketball or table tennis all night - FANTASTIC, I GET TO COOK FOR LOTS OF PEOPLE AND ENTERTAIN CRANKY KIDS WHILE YOU PRETEND PLAY WITH YOUR CHILDHOOD BUDDIES, ALL IN A NON-BABY PROOFED HOUSE THAT HAS A POORLY FUNCTIONING A/C UNIT.  

I really had a nice holiday weekend.  I hope you did too.

Mothers Day

This year for Mothers Day Im going to ask for something that I really want - something that every mother really wants.

No, its not a fancy dinner, more fruity smelling lotion, a flower in a hand painted pot, and its certainly not  an entire afternoon with my mother in law.  Its not a card, but if its something sparkly set in gold I will say yes.

This Mothers Day I  want Dexter to take the kids (after cleaning the kitchen) and not come back till dinner (which he will make and clean up after).  There I said it.  I want to celebrate motherhood by not mothering.

You know you desperately want that too, you just dont have the guts to ask.

It goes by fast

Have you ever heard a middle aged or older woman say this?  If not, it goes something like this: Cherish these moments because they go by fast.  The older women are referring to the delights of mothering young children.  All I have to say is that amnesia or dementia could be the only explination for saying something like this.  Clearly in their time away from certain "delights" they have forgotten that this job, well, it sucks.

First, it does not go by fast as the old women say.  Unless you are talking about your sleep time.  Otherwise the rest of the day with kids taxes your patience, sanity and time.  All the "Mom, mom, mom" on top of crying I think will drive me insane.  Then my mom says something ridiculous like its a developmental stage.  What the hell is Flip developing into - a monster?!?! (No, a man).

I think of a break up when old women say this to me.  After some time your memories of the bad, tough and trying times are clouded and all you remember are the sweet cuddles and kind words.  So you go back to the guy and after a few weeks you remember why you broke up in the first place. 

Therefore I think I must do what no mom has dared do before...the next time a older women says this to me, I will give her the diaper bag, car seats and kids and run.  Let her spend a day lugging kids around town to do errands, or cleaning up after the non-stop mess, calming the relentless cryer, disciplining the wild child, cooking, laundry, biting, hitting, whining, pooping, and collapsing when the day is done only to be awaked in a few hours to do it again...see how she remembers motherhood then.

There is a reason grandparents love their grandchildren so much...they get to give them back!

Lets say SHIT

I was playing cars with Flip the other day and he brought out his tractor trailer that has a spring action design that makes it break up when crashed head on.  This is a very fun toy for boys.  You just snap it back in place and crash it over and over...and OVER again.

We are setting the scene for the crash, the police car is there, the ambulance is close by and Flip says that he is ready and  "When the tractor trailer crashes lets say shit."  WHAT?!?!?!   I stifle my laughter and explain that even though Momma sometimes says that word, its really not nice.  "OK, then lets say dadgummit."  Oh, no thats not nice either..."Flip sometimes Daddy says that but its not very good word to say." 

Oh dear, I must really try harder not to say bad words around Flip.

"OK, Flip lets say Golly Gee Willikers," I suggest.  "OK," Flip agrees...CRASH.

CRASH.  CRASH.  CRASH.

High Carb Diet

Saturday is a busy day at my house.  Laundry, dogs, cleaning, dishes, kids running around, cooking breakfast lunch and dinner for my hungry boys.  Basically its insanity, but pleasant insanity because Dexter is home and able to spend time with Flip. 

Yesterday I was feeling sorry for a friend who has two crazy boys so and a husband out of town, so I offered to watch them while she ran an errand and took a nap.  The ciaos began at one when Flips little friend came over.  They destroyed his room, harassed the dogs, dug holes in the back yard and were really loud the entire time.  Its funny how Dexter all the sudden had to go get  food at the grocery store, then after lunch go check out a sale at HH Greg.  Planned, I think not?

So I spend the day trying to do my normal Saturday routine along with watching the extra kid.  Naturally I am exhausted by the time Dexter returns.  By the time dinner is over I collapse in bed, but before I close my eyes I remember that boys of all ages must be reminded to do things that are logical and second nature to me.  So I yell for Dexter to put the food away.  "OK, I will," he says.  And I drift easily into sleep knowing that things are taking care of...

...Its 1 am and I wake to strange sounds.  I'm trying to make sense of them and once I become awake and aware enough I realize its THE DOGS.  I stumble into the living room to see they have been feasting on the left over french bread loaf, hamburger buns and pasta left on plates that were never taken to the sink!  Well FRICK.  There is nothing more irritating than being woken from my peaceful slumber.  And clearly telling Dexter to put the food away is not enough, I must specify exactly what must be cleaned up..."Clear the table, scrape the dishes in the trash can - not the sink - and then put the bread in the pantry," is what I should have said.  Its kind of like telling Flip to clean his room..."Put the cars in the car box, the dinosaurs in the drawer, and your dirty clothes in the hamper."  Although there is a 26 year age difference the message needs the same delivery.

Just before I go wake Dexter up to clean up the mess I see that he did cover my chocolate cake that I made yesterday.  My anger subsides, my blood pressure lowers and I smile.  Dexter knows me very well, he saved my chocolate source.  So he can sleep (at least till the dogs start whining because they have the runs).

Leave me a mess and I get mad, but save my chocolate and you get to sleep in!

Antisocial behavior

I run for many reasons - to get in shape, to get out of the house, to exercise the dogs, and for mental health.  I take my ipod and a large, intimidating dog on both sides.  That coupled with the fact that I'm RUNNING (a faster form of walking) just doesn't make me very approachable. But that doesn't stop folks...

OK, so one of the dogs is a Great Dane and attracts lots of attention but obviously I am running, not at the dog park.  "That dog is BIG," they say.  Or "Whoa, what kinda dog is that?"  "Its a Dane and yes, he bites."   Yes, I say my dogs bite, it keeps long talkers and weirdos at bay.

So yesterday as I was running two people tried to stop me to talk.  As I jog in place and only pull one ear phone out, they just keep chatting and just don't get it.  I really don't feel like stopping, but cant seem to find a way to convey that to anyone.

And Ipods are not just for listening to music, they are excellent tools that allow you to ignore someone without flat out being rude.  If I was in the mood to chit chat I would be walking and not have my Ipod on.

Alright, back to my story...I escape the talkers just to run past a house where a lady actually stands and watches while her little fluffy, dust mop dogs run through the yard and charge my dogs.  But this lady clearly doesn't realize that  her dogs will die if they attack my Lab and Dane.  So I have to stop running and prevent certain death for the dust mop dogs and wait for the lady to saunter down her driveway to get her dogs.  At this point I am annoyed beyond reason (there is always very little logical reason for my annoyance or anger) and I can only give her a look...if I speak I may make her cry.  ARGH!!

I start to run again, faster this time, making no eye contact and pondering the amount of idiocy in the world...

I am...I am not

I am a mom of two uber-cute kids.  I like being a mom and with hindsight I am glad I started so young--because these kids wear me out, wear me down and in general make me smile and drive me nuts at the same time all day long.  I am off the clock when they sleep...motherhood is not a full time job, its a lifestyle.

I am not a maid.

I am a wife to Dexter.  I love that guy...I really do; and that is as big of an accomplishment as motherhood in my opinion.

I am not a maid.

I am a teacher to my children.  There is so much that parents - not schools - should share with their children.  And it goes beyond colors, numbers and shapes.  Parents should really teach their kids not to suck and by that I mean behave...all the time. 

I am not a maid.

I am a dog trainer...an unsuccessful, angry dog trainer.  I have a lab mix (who is mine from college and is wonderful) and a great dane (who was picked out by my husband and is far from wonderful - the dog, not Dexter).

I am not a maid.

I am a broken record...and out of time, those dishes aren't going to do themselves.

Warning Schmarning

At the advice of my sister, I have taken the content warning off.  Apparently I'm a prude because I thought that some of the subject matter was a tad racy, but according to my saucy sister its just typical blog topics.  I really must not get out of the house much or perhaps its that I spend all my free time (ha) reading novels targeted at 6th graders.

But seriously, I wrote this incognito because I thought it would be just too much to share with others.  "What," you say..."You really didn't name your child Flip and are not married to a guy named Dexter?"  HELL NO!!!  Those are the stupidest names I have ever heard--they are the names my husband begged me to really name our first born.  He only won that battle in Vicki Bites Back world...better than nothing.

Sorry to keep you in suspense, I will not be revealing my true identity to my adoring fans (that generally consist of just my sisters, so really, whats the point).  You just have to keep wondering who could this sarcastic Vicki be?

Stickers

Stickers are really great when they can make your almost 4 year old behave. Its amazing really. They are also cute in scrapbooks and the perfect way to entertain your child in the checkout line at Kroger or the doctors office. However, they are a really STUPID way to advertise how many kids, dogs and cats you have.

I see them on almost every minivan I am stuck behind (and its seems to only be a hit with those who drive minivans) - the family stick figure portrait. I just want to scream "Thank you for telling me that you have had sex 3 times successfully and have a dog too! That's fantastic, really."

What a waste of money and time! They would have to go to the store, pick out the mom and dad - mom is a little on the heavy side from having all those kids so they had to search for the anatomically correct stick figure (i.e. make sure it has a belly and a bow - for heavens sake make sure it has a bow to distinguish it from Dad). And the mom needs to be taller, but the dad is the tallest and get the one with the dress for Mary and Josh needs a sideways baseball hat and baby Drew has the little squiggle of hair minus the bow...you get the point. So picture a lady at the store agonizing over which stick figure best represents her and her family...Puhlease!

And then the worst part is not that the lady actually buys all 6 stickers, but that she cleans her car window and puts her family on display for all to see and enjoy. But the thing is, no one (except other moms who have stick figure portraits) seems to think this is a wise use of money or car window space. That window is prime real estate that should ONLY be dedicated to school pride.

So if you are proud of your family, do something normal to show them off. Hire a photographer to take a nice REAL family portrait and put it on the wall in your house. Not only is this normal, its tasteful - something that seems to be beyond a select few minivan drivers.

Wii - Acronym for "Worst Initiated Idea"

This was my mother-in-law's (MIL) big Christmas gift. She actually said that she got it so she could spend more time with her boys. And since one son lives in Central America and the other is a 5 hour drive away at college it really means that she got it for Dexter to come over more. GREAT, PERFECT, What a fricking AWESOME idea!! At that moment I started to really hate her.

But then a thought crossed my mind, did Dexter actually convince her that she needed that? A few years ago the neighbor kid was over and Christmas was around the corner. Dexter actually convinced the kid to ask his own dad for a Wii. He got one and, surprise surprise, Dexter was over there all the time for about a month. With this in mind, I'm wondering who to direct my seething anger at...why not both?

So ever since Christmas, Dexter has found reason after reason to stop by his parents on the way home or go there on the weekend. He even went so far as to suggest I needed an fun night with just Flip and me. He took Vivian for the night while I took Flip to his favorite restaurant and then to a store that has half a dozen moon walks and slides. I called after about an hour and a half to check in and see if Vivian was doing OK...and guess where Dexter ended up going...his parents! SHOCKER!

So the moral of the story is if you want to see your husband dont get a Wii - Worst Initiated Idea (EVER)!

Whadyousay?

Translation: What did you say? That is what Flip says when he doesnt want to obey me. "Flip, go wash your hands." "Whadyousay?" "Flip, go pick up your cars." "Whadyousay?" "Flip, its time to take a bath." "Whadyousay?" And I know he heard me (its virtually impossible not to hear me, my voice operates on an extremely high decibel level).

Yeah, its adorable...the first 500 times, but after that its really annoying. And whats even worse is that Dexter has picked this up now. "Dexter, please take out the trash." "Whadyousay?" "Dexter, please clear the table for supper." "Whadyousay?" "Dexter, will you feed the dogs?" "Whadyousay?"

Growing up with 3 sisters never prepared me for a life with boys. You have to learn what I call "boy talk." Im still looking for an English-Boy talk dictionary. Because all I ever say falls on deaf ears, or I get the dreaded "whadyousay" response. I have however tried yelling some key phrases to get Flip or Dexter's attention before relaying important information. For example, when trying to get Flips attention I say something like this: "DINOSAUR! (wait for eye contact) Flip its time to get dressed for school." Another effective phrase is "RAIL ROAD CROSSING!" Its very important to make sure you wait for eye contact before you begin saying your message. And for Dexter the same rules apply, just use grown up words or football jargon such as "BLUE 52, HIKE!" or this one always works "BOOBS!" But its not something I like to shout in front of the kids or in public, so its rarely used.


***But ladies be careful, the silent treatment is not - I repeat NOT - useful. Boys and men actually enjoy it when we dont ask them questions or assign them tasks. It gives them uninterrupted football viewing time. So dont be fooled by the frowning.

FW:

I like you so much that I didnt forward you that best friends poem.
I like you so much that I didnt forward you how to get your dog and cat and bird to all live in harmony.
I like you so much that I didnt forward you the love chain letter.
I like you so much that I didnt ask you to sign petition to save the planet.
I like you so much that I didnt forward you 25 picture series of watermelon or pumkin carvings. I like you so much that I didnt send you all the ways a guy can piss off a girl whether married, single or dead.
I like you so much that I didnt ask you to forward any of these on to your 7 best friends.

So I guess that means your really hate me...

Letter to an Idiot

Dear Sir (yes I know for a fact its a man; explanation below),
You are an idiot. You are an idiot for designing baby outfits that are fastened with snaps. When was the last time you saw a baby? They squirm, constantly. Correction, they squirm all their waking hours. At night they are relatively docile and it should be easier to snap without wrestling their little legs down, but the thing is we moms must keep the lights off so they dont wake up thinking its morning. So by the time we have them snapped in, we realize one button was missed and we have to unsnap and start all over again. This is most annoying.

The reason I know you are a man is because you have designed something cute yet ridiculous, useless, and frustrating. No woman, especially a mom, would put snaps or buttons on anything. Zippers! Great invention, go check it out sometime.

Sincerely,
Mom on the search for footed fleece outfits with zippers.

All dolled up

You know if you are a parent that there is no point in getting out of the t shirt you slept in. It will just get barfed on. But there is another reason, its the fact that no one sees you anyway.

You arrive to a party with the kids in adorable outfits and they are whisked away by some aunt or grandparent while you seem to disappear into the backdrop. Yep, new moms are invisible. So why bother jiggling the baby on your knee while trying not to poke your eye out when applying mascara. No one will see the effort anyway.

Disgusting

Remember when we were in school and there was a word of the day? Well, Flip has decided that disgusting is the word of the winter...EVERYTHING is disgusting. Food, clothes, toys, fireplaces. "Flip how is your dinner?" "Disgusting!" "Flip put your clothes on." "No, they are disgusting!"

DISGUSTING DISGUSTING DISGUSTING DISGUSTING DISGUSTING!

At my sisters wedding we had to get him to smile for the pictures, and guess what word we replaced cheese with--DISGUSTING!

Im so sick of that word that I now punish him for over-usage. Its starting to work, but a disgustingly slow pace.

FFF

This was the 1st Christmas that I finally understood what I once saw on a cocktail napkin. Forced Family Fun. Thats what it seemed like anyway. I suppose that the days of enjoying yourself over the holidays are gone. Seriously, who wants to sit down on Thanksgiving Day? I would much rather prepare and cook and hold the baby on my hip for hours only to be interuppted by Flip begging me to play cars. Where is your FATHER? Why isnt he entertaining you while I cook for the masses? Oh, he is busy playing 4 square--yes, the game we played in elementary school. Silly me, of course he would send his son in to ask me to play, nobody likes potatoes for Thanksgiving dinner anyway.

And how boring would it be to actually sit through the entire meal that you slaved all day over? I would much rather be interrupted to change Vivians diaper or play cars with Flip (again). I dont even like to eat my meals hot--disgusting!

And so thats how it went...I cooked for the Father in Laws bday dinner while holding Vivian and playing cars. I baked bread and cookies for every get together and Christmas party while decorating the tree and the house - BY MYSELF!

Then there is the driving. Pack half the house in the car, get the kids strapped in, sit in traffic, arrive at destination, play with kids, change diapers, pack up car and head home. I do the same exact thing everyday at home except I just added in a lot of packing and unpacking and driving. FUN!

Add to that a very sick baby and a three year old who must test every boundary you set and you have yourself some FORCED FAMILY FUN.

Its times like this that I wish I was a man--but then I'd have to learn to walk with all that stuff hanging down in between my legs...so on second thought, nevermind.