Best. Mom. Ever.

Fear not, I'm sure you're a great mom too. But I just happen to be the best mom ever. Curious why??

Ta-da! Bam! 

There you have it. I'm sure I've cinched the title of Mother of the Year with this cardboard and glitter gem. Haha!

A certain young lady of mine has been obsessed with the Statue of Liberty. Obsessed. When we went to New York this summer, both leading up to and after we arrived, all she asked was if and when were we going to see the Statue of Liverty. She still says liverty for the most part and I can't handle the loss of another baby word so I've been rolling with it. 

Halloween fell into our laps and she was still adamant about being lady liberty. Thank you Amaz.on! However when we were shopping she also saw the accessories and this mama wasn't dropping an additional $10 on a cheap plastic torch shaped flashlight. Not for one night. 

I say one night because they no longer celebrate Halloween in school. For everyone it seems, it has been replaced with some other dress-up event. We are having pajama day. Meh. I have no use for Halloween shirts now. No cute kindergarteners parading around the school yard. 27 few pictures for October's PL pile. Sigh. 

So for one night this magical paper towel tube will be a guiding light through the neighborhood. My torch is awesome! I even shoved a flashlight in! 

For good measure I also stocked up on glow sticks. I don't want our witch to feel left out, especially because I also nix her broom. I refuse to buy or make something I'll be carrying as soon as we leave the front yard. Miss Torch has a strap I'll have you know! 

Now if only I can get Mother Nature on board we will be good to go on Halloween. It was 80 on Tuesday and it's looking like winter on Saturday. Dearest Mother Nature, please pick a season! 

Who's excited to raid loot bags with me??

Anxiety?!

I was caught completely off guard. Completely.

One of my dear children and I were in the puzzle store playing a game of Rush Hour Jr. when she suddenly becomes hysterical and inconsolable. Nothing happened, just boom! So I usher her away from the eyes and dropped jaws and we go out on the porch.

Through the sobs, away from prying eyes, I hear:

"I had an accident."

WHAT THE WHAT? YOU WHAT? HUH?

Sure enough, wet bottom. No wonder everyone was staring at us. Someone could have tipped me off! Sigh. Of course we're on vacation, no where near our room, and I stopped carrying extra clothes and a diaper bag because my children are 5. When we get back to the car and get her settled can you guess her reason for not informing she had to go?

"I didn't want you to be mad at me."

**heart shattered**

Whatever gave her the idea I would be mad I beyond me. Her sister had just left to go take care of business. So I eagerly put it out of my mind and write it off. These things happen, it was probably a poor judgement call on her part or maybe she was really concentrating on moving the trucks around.

Fast Forward Two Days

We are home from the beach and back to school. It's my turn in the carpool line and I happily usher the children in. Into my hand is thrust a bag of shame with not so much as a side glance. She doesn't acknowledge it. I'm dumbfounded.

First because my child has had her second accident in three days, and at school to boot. Secondly, because the school didn't call me or give me any sort of notification. Lastly, because they gave her a pair of used underwear to borrow and asked that I return them but allowed her to put her pants back on.  WTH?!

Turns out she had her hand up and the librarian didn't call on her. At least that is what I gathered and am hoping happened. How this was discovered and how she made it to the nurse has been left to my imagination. I'm downright disgusted at used underwear -- VOMIT, so I sent in a pack of new underwear. Why I wasn't called, or at least some sort of note in her folder is beyond me. I would have much rather had the nurse call and had my child wait until I got there with a change of clothes. She would have stayed the day, but I would have felt more comfortable being informed and having her in her own clothes. Gross, used panties!

So tell me all five year olds get jitters and this will pass. So far we've had 3 pee-free days and I'm ready to put it all behind me.

Also, the lack of all notifications from the school annoys me. Another post for another day...

Home

It's not our home, my typical definition, but it is the place we are happiest and most comfortable; the beach. Third weekend of every October we find ourselves here. We find ourselves happy, and we leave renewed. So here's a photo tour of our weekend.

This burrito is good reason to leave happy, or to never leave at all. I made have had it leftover, in bed, Sunday morning -- don't judge!

The joy of children tall enough to take picture!

This is the infamous Patrick. 

*shudder*

Look at the dirt on my sensor! Geez!!

These ladies are all about playground. All day, everyday. 

I used to be completely fine, but school has changed playground time. They used to happily go off and play together, but now they have these games that they want me to join in. While I have no problem playing along, I'd like to do something fun that holds the least bit of interest. Playing the evil dragon, not so much. Chasing you, not my cup of tea. Taking directions continuously, I'll pass!

This girl takes on a new persona when we're one on one. Here she was delighted to hold a wooly-bear caterpillar. Any other time she is anti-bug.

We climbed to the top of the observation tower and watched the Husband turn white.

I think the best part of this trip was getting on the same page. It's not that Husband and I have been at odds, we've just been casually drifting along together. There hasn't been a true path we've been traveling when it comes to long term planning but the tide has turned. He has agreed to downsize and we both want to move to the ocean. That's another post entirely, but I'm glad that we've at least gotten in the same car for this road trip called life. 

Patrick

I have so much to share! I would love to rant about fear mongers and Ebola, our future goals, or even our weekend getaway. Instead I present my homework. 

Patrick the puppy joined us this weekend. Patrick is the girls' class mascot and EVERYONE gets a weekend with him. Do you know what that means for my house?? Sometimes I feel it's ok to treat the kids as one, allowing them to share experiences. Patrick ranks pretty high up there on my shared-experiences list. 

So luck of the draw set Em bounding out of school on Thursday with her new friend in tow for the long weekend. One more thing to keep an eye out for because I refuse to have the kid that lost, or left for dismemberment, the class mascot. A big shout out to Bear for handling this all so well and patiently waiting for her turn. Looks like I'll be dropping everything for a spur of the moment exotic weekend sometime before May. Sigh. 

My real beef with this project is not carrying around a piece of fluff, snap it's picture 47 times, or even having to wash him on a Sunday night (thanks Husband!!), I'm pissed I have to do it all. This is ludacris. I'm not in kindergarten. 

I had to write a narrative about what this fuzz brain did all weekend. Why can't my 5 year old be responsible for telling the class? She was there!

So I decided to be vengeful! Oh yes, there were about 10 pictures for our weekend, and I busted out the corner cutter. I threw some washi tape down and enjoyed this creative writing exercise. Now every person after me will exhaust themselves trying to keep up. 

Mwhahahaha!!

Sadly, this means I've made my second date with Patrick more demanding. Pssh!

Can anyone explain the necessity of this exercise??

Life at the Dealership

It's 2014. I don't have a flying car, can I at least have one that doesn't require maintenance? Seriously! 

Kudos to our dealer for having a kids zone, understocked as it may be. Perhaps the 56"(?) flat screen is a bit much, but I understand. I only wish there was something on other than infomercials and talk shows. 

Why does an oil change take an hour??

School Tid-Bits

• I'm drowning in dittos, announcements, reminders, and offers -- x2. 
• The ladies have gotten into the habit of saving part of lunch to eat later. The other day Emma saved a half eaten yogurt cup, in her lunch bag... MENSA material!
• So far they love gym and art the most. I just wish they did something other than ditto work. 
• Husband has stepped up and is packing lunches and snacks. *shocked*
• They have finally started testing the ladies for placement. Thankfully the ladies told me, because despite receiving fistfuls of papers every night we are pretty much left in the dark about what is going on in school until after it has happened. I refuse to be the annoying mom who can't let go.
• Fall is upon us and the ladies have their first field trip ON A SCHOOL BUS. They are thrilled about the school bus, and maybe a little for the pumpkin patch. I plan on being that mom, the one that shows up at the field trip but didn't volunteer to chaperone. 
• Today was Donuts for Dads, but shockingly I've heard no mention of Mimosas for Moms. 
• The PTA is falling on my list, I'd love to see their operating budget. Also, please stop reminding me I've yet to join. I'm all for enrichment and fun and frivolity, but I'm not buying your crap or attending your 8pm meetings. Thankfully they sent out a solicitation for cold. hard. cash. Here's my check!  
• I'm still on the fence about this school business. Hopefully this next month will offer something productive and worthwhile. 

How is school in your neck of the woods? 

I think we finally have settled into our routine. I just wish it didn't involve car naps and cranky dinners. Whomp, whomp. 

Goodbye

Sometimes it's hard to say goodbye. Sometimes it's necessary.

Friday night we came home and found it time to say goodbye to my fur baby. My first baby. The man of my dreams. He was with me for my first everything. My first bad break-up. My first real love. My first apartment. My first new car. My first home. My marriage. My babies. He was always there.

Meet Orion J. Sky:

At 10.5 years young, his poor body had been failing him for sometime. Something unfortunate happened while we were gone Friday, but his heart somehow missed the message. His spirit was more than willing, but his body had given in.

I have never had to put any animal down. 

I dreaded having to make that call, but I knew it was coming. I worried about making the decision at the right time, and questioned my ability to make a sound judgement on someone else's quality of life. Thankfully the decision was made easy. Thankfully the vet was incredibly accommodating. 

I worried about telling the ladies, but they handled it remarkable well. Thankfully our answers and explanations were sufficient.

Thankfully Orion isn't suffering.

What surprised me most through this all is the sense of relief I now have. He helped me grow, learn to love, and be responsible, but his story is now finished. His life was good but as with all dogs, his life was too short. 

Rest easy pretty boy. 

Saturday Snapshots: Patterns

I'm joining the ever lovely Marcia for a Saturday Snapshots. Despite being perpetually late, I would never miss it!

A liberal dumping of patterns, some more pronounce than others. 

Can you resist the faces peeking over?

Welcome fall, and fresh baked cookies EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT.

I was ridiculously proud for framing this roof!

So what do you think?

Favorites?

Go check out Marcia and Mrs. FF!

Dance Mom

How did I end up here? Can I officially call myself a dance mom? I'm nothing like those crazy TV moms, I didn't ohh and ahh over a playground full of tutu-ed little girls. I was actually a bit embarassed for some of them when I saw this:

Really people? Cut the cord! It's 45 minutes. 

So here we are, rec dance. I'm not a dance mom. I've never danced. I am completely out of my element. I not so secretly hope this doesn't continue for too long and have pretty much decided they will never be allowed to be dancers. However I'm allowing this testing of the waters. The class is huge, and run by teenagers. 

They love it. 

I still openly cringe at the sight of tights but even my finicky dresser is ok with this get-up. In their minds this is fun. In my mind it's socialization and activity. In husband's mind it's 45 more minutes to an already long day. So long as they're having fun, I'm ok. 

And they are kind of cute.

I have no aspirations of joining some studio. Despite the ramblings of a madwoman on FB, rec is just fine for kids. I don't care much if they don't learn proper technique, they're five! This is the age of fun and exploration, and after 6 hours of sitting on their arse in school, why not?! 

Dear Dance,

While I may loathe you as a sport and for reinforcing ideas I strive to avoid, thank you for making this process painless. Thank you for keeping my kids happy and expanding their horizons, while asking nothing of me but my monies. 

Sincerely,

A Not Dance Mom

Why aren't there pee-wee hockey leagues??