Archive of ‘OMG’ category

It’s Rated Arrg……………

I love the Time Hop app. It allows me the opportunity to revisit the adventures that I have shared on social media in the last few years. I am often brought to joyful tears as I see pictures of my beautiful baby boys and am reminded of how fast time goes by.

As a mother, I try very hard to instill strong values in my sons encouraging them to show love and kindness to those around them. As my mother always did, I am quick to remind them that they must treat each other with the utmost respect and love because in the end, your brothers are your very best friends.

Clearly, I have been extremely successful in molding young minds, as evidenced by the conversation had by my then five and three-year-old sons exactly two years ago today.

After leaving the Science Center today, I noticed a man in the car next to us was wearing an eye patch.

Unfortunately, my backseat crew also saw him.

Handsome #1- Why is that man wearing an eye patch?

Handsome #2- On account a he’s a pirate, Handsome #1.

Handsome #1- So you think everyone with an eye patch is a pirate?

Handsome #2- Yes, I do.

Handsome #1- (Gaffawing) So you think Nick Fury, the head of all the Avengers, is a pirate? That is crazy!

Handsome #2- No, you are crazy you poop head face dummy! And when I poke you in the eye, you will be a pirate too!

 

 

The Devil Went Down to SoCo

Recently, Handsome #2 and I had an opportunity to spend some time together, just the two of us. When I have these special moments, I am sure to tell each boy how much I love him and that he is my favorite. I also make him promise that he will never, ever tell his brothers. It makes them feel good and each of them truly is my favorite, in very different ways.

Handsome #2 and I dined at his first-choice fancy restaurant, Steak n Shake, and then headed to a mother son event at his school. I was a bit weepy that night, realizing that he would be in kindergarten next year, complete with blue Tom Sawyer shorts and a crisp white polo. OK, that is a lie. That crisp white polo is just for the first day of school picture. The rest of the school year is slightly dingy with a required morning sniff test to see if we can make it one more day.

My sweet second son was so proud to have me with him and couldn’t wait to show me all around the building. We ate snacks, played games and had a fun picture taken.  But, the evening started after 6pm, which is oh so close to the witching hour when all of my handsomes become blood-lusting demons. As the evening progressed, I noticed his eyes glaze and the horns begin to pop from his head.

If I was going to make it home unscathed, I’d have to move fast while he was still smiling. We said our goodbyes and headed to the car, still happy and chatting about the fun we had. As he climbed over to the third row seat, I put my key into the ignition and the horns popped all they way through as his eyes became flecked with flames.

Handsome #2-Mom, what are you doing? I am not buckled. Do you hear me? I am not buckled.

Me-It’s ok, buddy. I’m not going anywhere, just getting the air flowing. Buckle up.

Handsome #2- Yeah, right. You big dummy.

Me- Excuse me?

He caught my icy glare in the rear-view mirror and began to panic.

Handsome #2- Oh no. I’m sorry, momma. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.

Just as I was about to acknowledge the apology and excuse his moment of temporary insanity, his eyes closed and his hands clasped. He implored our Lord for forgiveness, certain that I was going to murder him.

Handsome #2- In the name of the father, son, holy spirit. Amen. Bless us, Oh Lord, for these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord.

Amen.

And just like that, he earned himself an extra spray of starch on the first day of school……

 

bst

Ladies, I’ll be Pressed to Impress on the First Day of Kindergarten

Hey, You Guys!

 

Goonies-Movie-Quotes

On June 7, 1985, exactly 30 years ago today, ‘The Goonies’ was released. At the time, I was six. My brothers were four, three and eight weeks. My mom and dad were 33 and 36, respectively. Today, I am 36. My sons are seven, five and two. I am the exact age that my father was when he and my mother decided to head to the movie theater with four and three-year-old boys. Four children under six, including a newborn who was left with God only knows that day, would make anyone’s judgement a bit lax.

 

The anticipation was incredible. After what seemed like hours, 15 minutes real time, we walked in the doors. Candy, a huge tub of popcorn and one soda with four straws later, we were headed to the upper balcony ready for the Goonies experience.

 

We were all hooked on the tale of friendship packed with action, adventure and a really creepy guy chained up in the basement. Despite our young ages, we sat pretty still while devouring snacks and slurping drinks, until we didn’t. There was dancing down the aisle. Not tap or salsa, this looked a bit more like the hustle.

 

One-eyed Willy’s boat had just been discovered when the real performance started. A poor, Pepsi-filled toddler, began the chant familiar to all parents,

 

It began softly with a chair squirm. “Um, I have to go. I have to go to the bathroom.” He twisted and twirled. “I have to go. I have to go. Daddy, I really have to go.”

 

The Fratelli’s just appeared and now a kid is filled with urine up to his eyeballs. Perfect. With mere minutes of the movie left, but not wanting to miss a second, my dad did what any loving parent would do. He made the ultimate sacrifice. Even though he was really full, he forced himself to eat the last of the popcorn, creating a makeshift toilet and told my brother to tinkle. Right there. In the tub. In the theatre. And he did.

Goonies never say die……

Who Let the Dogs Out?

Since I scored an amazing Notorious B.I.G. shirt at Target last night for a mere $7.48, I was extra motivated this morning to get up early and walk. I hate mornings. I hate exercise, but I love Biggie Smalls. So, if I am going to look like one of those rap guy’s girlfriends, I need to get my a$$ moving.

biggie

Sometimes the sales just hypnotize me

I started my playlist and ventured out the door at 5:45. My neighborhood is friendly. Lots of silver citizens walking their dogs soon after sunrise because they get up at 3:30 am and by the time the first rays appear in the sky it is nearly their lunchtime. I wave, smile and get back to singing out loud not giving a darn what anyone thinks.

There is a house in my subdivision that has a secret club in their garage. Except, it’s not a club and there is nothing secret about these people because the door is always open so the nosy neighbors constantly rubberneck. They sit there for hours on end smoking cigarettes, drinking beer, watching TV and probably plotting to kill all of us.

I had always thought that happy hour started about noon because the party is in full swing by the time I get home from work at 5. Apparently, I was wrong this place is a 24-hour all ages show. As I approached the club this morning, the door was open and the table was surrounded. Standing near the door was big black dog that I thought had on a leash. After I inadvertently locked eyes with the beast, I realized it was just a crappy piece of ripped fabric dangling around its neck.

He came toward me, so I walked a little faster. Then he walked a little faster. I crossed the street, he crossed the street. All the while the party barn stared as if they were watching some crappy karaoke, only half paying attention, but sure to laugh at the performance. Realizing that this dog wasn’t going away, I yelled out,

“Can you please come and get your dog?”

“That’s not our dog.”

Holy $h!+. This dog didn’t belong to these people! It was hungry and I was on the menu. It is no secret that I am convinced that my death will be the result of an animal attack, but I truly thought that a cat would be my demise. As I gathered my thoughts, I continued to walk slowly and the dog followed me.I started the Hail Mary. If I was going down, I was going down with the Lord on my side.

For more than a half a mile this dog was with me. I turned around periodically, err every 3 seconds, to make sure he wasn’t going to sneak up and maul me right there on the street. I was six houses from my own when the beast spotted a stop sign and was instantly obsessed. This was my shot. If I could get down the hill I could sprint, OK maybe a really fast trot, to my house.

As I made my way to the bottom of the hill and spotted my front door, I felt a wave of relief come over me. I had made it, unscathed. Suddenly I heard a rustle behind me, followed by a bark it bark. I sheepishly peered over my shoulder and the hound was charging! Holy $h!+!?!?. I stood still sure that if I moved I was dead.

I prepared for Heaven, saying goodbye to my children and husband, all sleeping soundly unaware that I am about to be killed on the front lawn. And then, God himself appeared on the lawn across the street. Squirrel! The dog spotted it, forgot about me and disappeared into the common ground. I took off toward my backyard and slammed the wooden gate behind me, but not before crying and maybe peeing a little.

My Fit Bit logged 5500 steps before 7am. If the entire neighborhood could just go ahead and unleash their animals around 6 every morning, I’ll hit my weight loss goals by the end of next week.

Peek-A-Boo….thank God no one saw you……

I believe that God gives every person unique and special gifts and that He wants us to use those gifts to help others and to make the world a better place. My gifts don’t come in the form that most people would likely consider special. For example, God made Mozart an incredible musician. I quit tickling the ivories after a not-so-unfortunate finger break in fourth grade. I hated piano lessons and wanted to die every time I had to go because my teacher, a nun, would drink soda from a can with a straw and burp the entire time. Instead of playing my songs in the practice room before my lesson, I would puncture the leaves of the aloe plant and watch the clear ooze drip to the floor. The day that my fingers bent back was God telling me straight out to quit wasting my parents money. I would never ever make it to playing “The Entertainer.”

My gift didn’t come in the form of an athletic ability either. No, I was much more concerned with having blue and gold bows in my hair than I was breaking a sweat. To this day, I daydream about running a marathon, OK, a 5K. But instead of training, I eat Peanut Butter M&Ms in bed while sipping a Diet Coke and watching a documentary about a runner with one leg overcoming the odds and I just wonder if I can walk to the kitchen to get more candy with one foot asleep.

God didn’t give me those kind of gifts. Nope, it would take me much longer to understand what my gifts are and how to best utilize them. You see, God made me a storyteller. He gives me such incredible material, it is hard not to spin amazing yarns. He fills my days with wacky inspiration that he just doesn’t seem to give to other people. For example, how many of you have gone for a quick eye exam and left looking like Mr. Potato Head? Or maybe, you used your Siri text to talk feature when you had a cold and ended up with this?

I just don’t think that He gives everyone so much material to work with. Like just last week. I was working, minding my own business, leaving my third appointment, when I felt a little something on the back of my ankle. It was a brisk fall day and there were beautiful leaves of crimson, amber and gold lying on the ground and periodically dancing  across the earth with a quick gust of wind. I thought nothing of the feeling on my leg and got in the car. What began as a slight rubbing sensation began to slip down my leg quickly and caused a bit of alarm. I didn’t want to look down because I was sure that some sort of spider, or armadillo, was crawling down my leg. It was bulky and uncomfortable and terrifying.

When I finally got up the nerve to look, I was shocked. I was embarrassed. I was appalled. I was like WTF? How in the world does this happen? How do you go 3/4 of a work day with no one mentioning it? Who in the hell put him there?

Do you see someone playing peek-a-boo. .

At this point, you are likely thinking that I have lost my mind and you are wondering what it is that you are looking at. Kindly resist the temptation to make the photo bigger. You will be instantly offended by the condition of my heels. Instead, just pull your computer closer to your face. Those little green spots belong to Percy good friend of my good friend, Handsome #2. Now before you get all, WTF is going on and why in the world would she have those in her pants? Let’s be fair and honest. As much as we would all like to pretend that we do 86 loads of laundry a week separated by color, fabric, temperature setting and family member, any mom with kids knows, you throw as many things into that machine as will fit and press go. Sometimes that method causes things to get crumpled up and stuck where they shouldn’t be. And if those crumples break free and appear in a public place where they shouldn’t, then sometimes people get strange looks…or arrested….Lucky for you, this happened in the car and I lived to tell the tale. Thankfully, I was able to return them to their rightful owner before he noticed they were missing and had an all out horrifying stage three meltdown…….

I am so much more of a #1 Engine kind of girl, but whatevs…..

It’s Raining Men…..

We are all fierce from the neck up

Since I debuted my fiery red faux hawk a couple of months ago, I have gotten a lot of compliments. Here is the crazy thing, these compliments haven’t come from my family. They are certainly not my father, or even really my husband, but from complete and total strangers. I am literally stopped at least once a day and complimented on my do. As a five-month-postpartum mother of three boys five and under, I will take anything to boost my
confidence. I was texting with a friend the other night about my physical deterioration in the past seven years. Now I am not saying that I have turned into a completely useless fat sloth who lives in only yoga pants and a Cardinal cap, though some days I would like to, but I am not the same person that I was at 27 when I walked down the aisle. As I said to him, I am not quite a trophy wife, but more of an attendance prize. I get up every morning, get people dressed, make their meals and remember all of their names, that deserves recognition. Particularly when I hear them wake up and I am so comfy and cozy in my bed and I wait, and wait and wait for Scott to jump up, which he totally does a lot of the time, but realize that he is playing the same game and isn’t going anywhere, so I make the move. Normally I find the two older ones draped limply across the furniture looking like starving Ethiopians. Everyday it is the same thing, they keep wanting meals, the keep expecting me to make them and they keep telling me that Eggo Wafflers are not acceptable for dinner. Ugh….what is wrong with these people?

They keep wanting me to feed them.every.single.day.

As I was saying, the compliments from strangers are abundant. But the mass majority of the admirers are teenage boys. Like all teenage boys, everyday. I have had teenage checkers at Target spellbound, McDonald’s Drive Thru kids give me a wink while passing the Diet Dr. Pepper and then there was the boy stocking the yogurt at Schnucks who walked across the room to compliment me. I think if I had stood there three more seconds he would have asked me for my number, which is creepy and sort of amazing all rolled in to one. I am no stranger to the love of a teenage boy, but this admiration from the masses is new. I was never popular with teenage boys when I was a teenager. I was so awkward and terrified that I couldn’t even speak to them. The fact that I wore a larger bra then most of their mothers was exciting and terrifying to them, so they didn’t talk to me either. They would just stare longingly. But if we are being frank, had I let them close to me, which never would have happened, they wouldn’t have known what to do with those Dolly Parton D cups.  Looking back, it was a big huge disaster and I may need to make a quick appointment with a therapist just to talk this one out.

Earlier this week, I was headed to an offsite event for work and feeling pretty good. My hair was in place, my lips were on straight and my clothes all matched. Win, win and win.

Those little drops are big trouble
I could see the trouble brewing

While I was inside, Mother Nature thought that she would be hilarious and change things up a bit. The weather went from cool and partly cloudy to an apocalyptic thunderstorm. While I may have been a Girl Scout in my younger years, I never bought in to that “be prepared” crap. That translates loosely to, girlfriend says, “Forget that. I don’t need an umbrella.” Perhaps you recall what happens when my product fails me on a normal day?  My knees were knocking at the mere thought of walking outside, but I knew that at some point a member of the janitorial staff was going to sweep me right out the door, so I had to get moving. 

By the time I made my way across the parking lot to the car, my hair looked and felt like it had been styled with maple syrup.We all know that water beats fire. It was an epic battle and water was victorious, leaving fire sad and barely flickering in the corner……

Did Lucille Ball have days like this?

The Bird is the Word

This is an actual conversation that just took place at my house

Scott: Do we have any tape?

Me: Yes, in the drawer. What For?

Scott: This (holding up a then unidentifiable bunch of construction paper)

Me: Oh, who made that?

Scott: (Looking at me like I was a complete idiot) I did. I am now doing a lot of arts and crafts at work.

 Well, aren’t you hilarious. You look really hilarious now….      
Here is the real artist, Handsome #1
My precious love, Handsome #3

Sadly, Handsome #2 could not be reached to show his Cardinal pride, he was thinking over the decision to chuck train tracks across the room narrowly missing his infant brother’s head

Go Cards!

You Better Work….

Sweet Mary Mother of God. Have you ever had one of those days when you walk out the door looking fierce, or so you think, and in a matter of minutes you deteriorate completely. You spend a great deal of time on your look, particularly your hair, because your physical appearance is important for your line of work and you need to be on trend and put together. But, then the planets shift and your are in trouble. Not like you forgot your lipstick, and need a pick me up. No, I am talking more of the holy $h!+ if Stacy and Clinton saw this they may reincarnate “What Not to Wear” just for you.

You catch a glimpse in the rear view and notice a problem

The scarf seemed like a good idea when I left the house, but after further investigation the color and tie technique is resembling an infected goitor. But, that isn’t the worst of my problems. Take a look at that lipstick. It looks as if I put it on with my feet or let Handsome #2, my three-year-old, give it a shot.

Hmm, did you style your hair with a fork, Ariel?

Here, you can really see how great that lipstick application is.I appear to be hemorraging, but just on the sides. Somehow, the center has nothing on it, at all. Shall we discuss the hair? I am quite sure that I used AT LEAST five different products to keep my faux hawk in shape, but somehow it looks more like I just got a fresh trim from a flowbee.

Excuse me Eric Carmen, can we discuss those Hungry Eyes

Holy $h!+ this was the shock of the day. I knew that I looked terrible, but when in the hell did I develop a lazy eye? Looking at this makes me nervous, I am not sure which one to look at. They both look like they hurt and could induce instant vertigo and vomiting….Make.it.stop.

Just cover your whole face and no one will know it’s you

I figured that putting on my sunglasses would make things better. Let’s see about that, idiot. Not only does my hair look like Blanche Devereaux after a romp in the woods, but those damn glasses are so big, they are nearly wrapping around my head. WTF is going on?

Since there was nothing that I could do to make things better from my car, I did the only reasonable thing that I could. I drowned my sorrows in a 440z Diet Dr. Pepper, drove to my office and hid. I suppose it could have been worse. I could have been standing on the beach in a bikini thinking that I was really hot stuff….oh wait……

Oh look, an awkward boy in a bikini with a popeye…..

There’s no place like home…..well, kind of…..

It is Sunday in St. Louis, so the boys, Maurmi, Grandpa and I headed to Strange Donuts, a new culinary hot spot, for a breakfast treat. As is typical for any adventure, we weren’t in the car five minutes before someone starting to torment someone. Today’s pester fest starred Grandpa and Handsome #2.

Handsome #2: Guess what? We are going to Strange Donuts, Grandpa.
Grandpa: No, we are going to familiar donuts.
Handsome #2: No, not furmilyur, Strange Donuts.
Grandpa: I think familiar sounds good.
Handsome #2: AGGGGHHHH! Not furmilyur, we are going to Strange Donuts.
Grandpa: I think I like familiar donuts.
Handsome #2: (Crying) I hate furmilyur donuts, Grandpa.

This went on and on for twenty minutes until we arrived. There was a line out the door and inside was a tight squeeze. The line moved fast, and once waited on, we swiftly made our selections and were out the door. As we headed home, we listened to a Halloween CD and attempted to make friendly conversation.

Me: Handsome #2, how old are you?
Handsome #2: I am three.
Me: Handsome #2, when is your birthday?
Handsome #2: May 28th.
Me: Handsome #2 what is your address?
Handsome #2: I don’t have one.
Handsome #1: Yes you do! It is XXXX LollyDolly Lane.
Handsome #2: No it’s not! I do not have a LollyDolly! You are a LollyDolly.
Handsome #1: Yes it is. We all live there!
Handsome #2: No!I!Do!Not! I do not have an address, Handsome #1! Guess what? You are a girl.
Handsome #1: Mom! Handsome #2 called me a girl.
Handsome #2: You are a girl, Flanagan, with a bow in your hair!

PS: We do not live on LollyDolly, but I don’t find it necessary to give the entire Internet, or the 25 of you reading this, my real address.
PPS: Flanagan is what Handsome #2 calls Handsome #1 when he is really pissed off.
PPPS: A three year old should probably not have the cognitive ability to figure out how to really anger his older brother with name calling and use it to his advantage every.single.time.
PPPPS: I did nothing about the above conversation but laugh and be sure that I didn’t forget the good parts. And, yes, I am working really hard for mother of the year.

Your kiss is on my list…….

When I heard Mika blaring “Love Today” in my ear this morning at exactly 6am, I wanted to punch him in the face. I had no desire to crawl out of my comfy cocoon, but hitting snooze isn’t an option when you have to be in a high school gym by 7:30, so I drug myself out of bed.

I knew it was destined to be one of those mornings when I found this in the shower.

Good Morning, have a nice day
Seriously, WTF is that? Why is it so hard to get the kids to clean up after their bath? If I have told him once, I have told  Scott 700 times, “I am the one who has to shower in here in the morning and I don’t want to have to step on this crap. Please be the responsible adult and make them pick up their toys!” And then I realized, $h!+, I was the moron who gave the boys a bath last night. And the reason that the toys remain on the shower floor is because someone attempted to drown someone else in the tub because he stole his washcloth and the only way that I was able to keep three children alive and not just two was to swiftly pull out one boy in each arm, and airlift them to their bedroom. At which point, I did a quick towel dry of their heads, put pajamas on wet bodies, which is about as fun as dressing an early 80s rubbery Barbie, and said a quick, “See you tomorrow.” I still had to feed the baby, clean the kitchen and fold the laundry that will NEVER end up in a drawer.

When I finally went to put said baby to bed thirty minutes later, I found this behind the rocker.

Surprise, I may or may not be dead under here
 Had the windows been open someone would have called 911 and reported multiple murders.”911 what is your emergency?””My neighbor across the street, the Grillin’ Fool’s wife, she appears to be in trouble. I think he may have had enough of her crap and thrown her on the Charbroil. They are all screaming. You better send several ambulances.”

This morning was a struggle, to say the least. The last few weeks have been this way……

          First there was this
Sharpie instead of lipstick, perfect….
And then this
Haven’t quite mastered shoes on the right feet….perfect
This morning, I did the unthinkable. I left home without my signature tube of slutty red lipstick. Talk about a WTF moment?!?!!? I don’t put lipstick on before I drop the boys at school and lay a big fat one on them for fear that the teachers will mistake my love and affection for child abuse or a nasty case of ringworm. So when I reached into my purse as I left the school parking lot, I was in a state of panic. I had two cell phones, a wallet, fruit snacks, diapers, wet wipes, three pairs on socks, tampons, a pair of Thomas the Train unnerwears, an iPad and a lint roller…..not a single tube of lips……
OMG

$h!+, I had to be in a high school in 15 minutes. No time to go home, no time to stop at Walgreens. No time for anything! I was forced to do the unthinkable, I had to go to school naked. No before you get all, she is so dramatic, on me, let’s be fair. The last time that I attempted to wear a different COLOR lipstick, Handsome #1 said,

“Mom, what is wrong with your face?”

Too bad, so sad, I had to go to work. I was angry, frazzled and not feeling myself at all. As I was setting up my table, a group of kids from a special education class were making their way through the gym early before it got too busy. A sweet-looking boy, maybe 15, came over and said hello.

He looked at my setup and said, “Oh, this isn’t for me.”

“That’s OK. I hope that you have a great day,” I replied and went back to getting organized.

He walked away, but swiftly turned around. He came back looking like he had left a book or a pencil behind. “Ma’am. I forgot. I forgot to say, you look pretty today.”

And off he went.
So simple, so kind and a total day changer. It was a slap in my face, and one that I needed today. A change in perspective. It isn’t about the lipstick, or the shoes, or the hair. It is about a smile and being kind. I would love to tell his mom, you are doing it right. I am sure that she worries, we all do. But when he is on his own, he is kind and loving and I truly hope that my boys are like that. Thank you God for sending him my way.
I’ll duckface the hell out of some red lips
As I left the parking lot, I smiled. But, as I caught my reflection in the rearview, I realized that I still looked like the Walking Dead, so the Odyssey made a quick left into Walgreens and soon, everything was right in the world again….And there is an extra tube in the ashtray, in case of an emergency……

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