Way Too Comfortable With Each Other

Me: "Hey, you wanna bend me over the sink and get a shot off before you leave for work?"

Pants: "Uh, I think I will take a raincheck. My stomach hurts."

Me: "See you later."



As soon as he mentioned his stomach hurt? I entered "shut down" mode. You know the one - everything goes blank and you are not aroused in the least bit. In fact, you are a bit nauseated. Similar to the fog that overcomes you when someone mentions your parents having sex.

I must go bleach my mind's eye now, thank you.

I miss you, Daddy.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of my Father's death 15 years ago. Should the term "anniversary" even be used? Probably not as I like to think of those as celebrations, not as days that you would rather not recall.

As I have mentioned - I loved my Daddy. He was wonderful, funny, smart and just all-together great. So many memories of him run through my thoughts every day. I keep hoping that one day I will be able to think about him and talk about him without choking back tears or getting that lump in my throat. Every year passes and I am no closer to being able to do that. Fifteen years. That is a long time, and yet, it feels like just the other day. Every day, I hear something I know he would have laughed at, or I think about something I would like his opinion or advice on.

I miss my Daddy. Terribly. So much that it really does hurt sometimes. There is so much I never got the chance to say. So many things I should have done or said. So many things I wish I could change. So much guilt for not being there when he needed me - I guess I just wasn't used to him needing me. It was hard for me to see him like that - he was always so very strong and to see him as less than that was too difficult for me. I think that is the reason for all the tears and sadness. There was so much I wanted to say and was just too afraid to put it out where it could be heard.

I miss my Daddy. I will never stop loving him or appreciating all he did for me. My only hope is that he can still see me and knows how sorry I am. And how now, with children of my own, I finally get it.

You were so right, Daddy. I love you.

Happy Birthday, Small Pants!

Small Pants turned 4 last week. Wednesday; August 23, 2006 to be exact. His birthday party was Saturday - complete with petting zoo and pony rides. It was so much fun and he had the best time ever!

We invited his friends from pre-school and his friends from a few families in our neighborhood that we hang out with. Everyone got some good pictures and seemed to have a good time. I will possibly put one or two up of Small Pants in the next day or so. He loved the pony rides.

The party was to start at 2:00 in the afternoon. He began asking me at about 7:00 in the morning "Is it two o'kwok yet, Mama?" But he was patient and got ridiculously excited when his friends started arriving. Bless his little heart, he fell asleep in my lap at 7:30 that night - totally exhausted. I, too, was pretty tired - having 15 kids in your house will do that to you. Thank goodness most of the party was outside.

And just in case you were wondering if everyone behaved...... No. Pants decided to use my digital camera and take pictures of the poor goat's pendulous testicles. He thought they were pretty funny. I was so ashamed that my husband took picture of balls. You think he'd never seen them before. Photos of nuts.

I will not even begin to tell you what happened when the donkey had to pee.

Randomness

WHY OR NEIGHBORS ARE SURE TO LOVE US:

Small Pants jumps into the pool repeatedly. That is his favorite part of "swimming." He yells at the top of his lungs each and every time at a decible level that can be heard for miles:

"Cannonbarf"


THE NEED FOR ENUNCIATION:

Pants gets the boys bottoms sometimes when they are playing, just a little butt pinch. As they were playing last night, Small Pants said:

"Daddy, please don't get my Butt Hogs"

(We think he was aiming for the word "buttocks.")



THE LAWS OF PHYSICS:

Several years ago, Medium Pants was playing outside with one of his friends. The friend was climbing on the swing set, fell down and began to cry. Medium Pants came inside and said:

"Mama, the horses of gravity got Matthew. Can you come help?"

Frustration and Anger

I begin by stating that I truly believe that some people should not be allowed to procreate. An intelligence test should be required as soon as you reach puberty and if you flunk it? Sorry, snip, snip. It would make the world a better place and protect so many helpless kids.

When will these clowns learn?

It is 100 degrees here in the sun. And that does not include the heat index which pushes that number up about four or five degrees. One hundred and five degrees. Newscasters and DJ's saying repeatedly are screaming - Do not go outside unless you have to. Take frequent breaks. Drink tons of water. And finally, do not leave pets or children in the car - even for two minutes - even if the window is cracked.

And yet, it happens every summer here. Yesterday, a woman left her 15 month old baby in her car while she ran into a friends house. He died. She was only going to be in there a few minutes according to her. The temperature in the car was over 120 degrees. She had left the car running with him sleeping in the back and the a/c going. But it malfunctioned and he was killed. I can't imagine that poor child's suffering and struggling. He probably cried and cried, but she was inside the house and never heard him. She was in there for 20 minutes, never checked on him and he was dead when she came out to leave.

That happens to be only the first fatality. There were several more instances where people saw small children strapped in their carseats in unattended cars in parking lots. They called the police. One woman was in the DHS office for over an hour and didn't come out until the police paged her. AFTER they removed her five-month old twins from the backseat of a car that was 125 degrees inside and transported them by ambulance to the hospital. She had to be paged!!! Thank God someone saw those kids and called the police. Another woman left her three kids in the car when she went into the hospital to visit a friend.

Here's the thing - and the root of my anger with these parents. You should NEVER EVER leave your child in the car - whether it is 100 degrees or 40 degrees outside. That is one of the first rules of parenting. I know taking that car seat in and out is a huge pain in the ass. I know it's heavy and your arms are full and you will be back in just a second. Maybe you are running in to pay for gas. Maybe it's raining. Maybe you will just be a second. So fucking what - take the child with you.

The fact is, these people are so damn lazy and stupid that they should not be allowed to have children. It is a parent's job to protect their child and these people put them in harm's way simply because they don't feel like getting that seat out of the car. It is always babies who cannot unbuckle themselves and they basically just cook in that car. Just ignore the weatherman screaming at you from your tv set DO NOT, under any circumstances, leave your child in the car - even if it is just for a minute. You can't be bothered and it is asking too much for you to carry your child with you. It is easier for you to leave them in the car - defenseless. Just like it is easier for you to sit on your ass and wait for that check every month. Thank your local taxpayers, because now we also get to pay for your defense when you stand trial.

It breaks my heart every summer. So far we haven't had any left on day care vans - which is unusual, because every summer atleast two children die in a daycare van somewhere in this city.

It is infuriating and yet, it has now become commonplace. It doesn't even surprise us anymore - and that is a sad commentary on society today. I think punishment should be swift and strong. Make that parent sit in that car and swelter. And after they are at the brink of heat stroke, pull them out and strap them into the chair. If they have no more concern for their child that to take them out of the car, why should we have any concern for them.

This may be harsh to some of you, but it makes me so angry that I don't care. How stupid can they be? They complain about how hot it is and how they just can't stand it. Then they strap that poor child into his seat and leave him in an oven.

My only consolation is that summer will be over soon.

Aging Not So Gracefully

A new school year. Summer is over. Medium Pants will begin the 5th grade and Small Pants will begin his Pre-K program at preschool and begins Kindergarten next year - the same year his brother starts middle school. I feel so old. I know, I know - school hasn't ended this year yet and I am already thinking about next year. But my babies will be big boys. No more sweet little boys - they will be starting new stages. Medium Pants will be hanging out with his friends more and possibly even liking girls (oh Dear God) and Small Pants won't want me holding his hand and hugging him in front of anyone.

It scares me so much more than it does them. I know I should be more mature about it, after all, this is what happens - they grow up. But I didn't know it would happen so fast. I was just changing their diapers the other day. While part of me is thinking I should be counting down until the last one turns 18, I know I will miss all the noise. I realize that is quite sometime away, but it seems like it is just spinning by so fast.

And it makes me feel really really old. I just hope they come back and visit me sometimes. Even if it's just to wipe the spittle off my chin.

A Trip To The Underworld

School supply shopping. I don't understand why I ever got excited about it as a child, but I do now understand the look on my mother's face when it was time to go do it.

We had to go to Walmart (trust me people, if there were any other place close, I would go elsewhere. In fact, I wrote the Target Corporation a request to build one here. I close each prayer every evening with "and please let them build a Target within 20 minutes of our house. Amen") and it was a freaking nightmare. Medium Pants and I wandered into the store at about 9:30 in the morning on a Wednesday. Not terribly crowded, so that was in that godforsaken shithole's favor. We picked out what the boys needed - markers, glue, pencils, crayons, paper, folders, etc. and made our way to the front of the store.

They had ONE regular lane open. ONE. There were a couple of Express lanes, but since I had about 45 items, I was excluded from that. They had the self-check, but I really didn't want to scan 45 pieces of crap. So we looked at the ONE lane that was open. There were six people standing in it with carts overflowing. I looked at that and began to feel my blood pressure rise.

We opted to self check. I didn't realize that only four of my items were heavy enough to trigger the bagging sensor. If I had known that, I would have gone to the express lane and dared them to say something to me.

We begin our scanning. I drop the crap in the bag after it's scanned like I am supposed to - only the piece of shit doesn't register it. The perky bitch on the computer keeps telling me "Place item in bag or press Skip Bagging." So, I press skip bagging, not knowing that you can only do that three times in a row. After the third time, perky bitch tells you to wait for an attendant.

So it goes, every three items, I have to stand and wait for the attendant to come punch in her code and clear the system. Only so I can scan three more items and wait on her again. And just for the record, I don't know if she was arthritic or what, but c'mon lady - get the lead out of your ass, would you?

Finally, after she had to punch in her code about 4 times, I lost my shit. I asked her, after telling her that I absolutely despised that store and would go elsewhere if there were any alternative, if she was smart enough to override the system so I didn't have to wait on her slow ass after scanning every three bottles of Elmer's glue?? Since there was only ONE real lane open, I didn't want to spend my entire freaking day in that store, could she either fix the self check or shove all my Crayola shit up her incompetent ass?

She just looked at me with the most vapid eyes I have ever seen. I don't think she even realized I was mad. She just said she could, and did it. So after that, it only took me a few more days to finish checking out.

As Medium Pants and I were walking out to the car, he said: "Mama, why is always so hot in that store?"

Without missing a beat I said "Because it is Hell, son. When you die, if you don't go to heaven, you will be stuck wandering the aisles of Walmart and trying to check out because that is Hell, right there."

He just looked at me and said "You hate that place, don't you?"

He is in Challenge Class, folks. A real brilliant kid.

Holy Halitosis, Batman!

I just returned from the dentist with the two boys about two and a half hours ago. I am still reeling from the shock. They each have a few cavities (damn you Godforsaken Double Bubble) but the main concern is the need for Medium Pants to have a "Orthodontical Evaluation" - Meaning, that little bastard needs braces and God knows what else.

He has overcrowding issues and some permanent teeth are turning as they come in to compensate for it. As the dentist was telling me all this, all I could think of was this:

"Hmmmm. If I knock the damn things down his throat next time he sasses me, I could possibly come out cheaper here. I mean, dentures have to cost less than braces, ya' think? I think I'll get an estimate on our next visit."



Maybe I should have titled this one "Parenting Poorly Yet Again."