Moronic Mommy and the Memories She Tries To Make

Last night I bawled my eyes out because I felt like I have failed at creating good memories for my children.  Is that moronic or what?

Let me back up a bit…

We have made decorations but have failed to put them up because Mom couldn’t find the stuff to hang them.  Grandma even bought us a spool of invisible thread this past week and I could not for the life of me figure out where it went.  I found it, as I was scurrying around doing the costume thing.  So as of this morning, the decorations are still laying on the table.

I have gone back and forth and back and forth on how to put the light in The Professor’s Halloween costume.  This saga started about a month ago in Extreme Geekdom, Iron Man Style.  When the pocket idea came up, of course I waited until the last minute to sit down and start sewing.  The idea was simple-just sew a little pocket into the inside of the costume.  I decided to sew a little pillowcase type thing.  The only material I had was left over from my daughter’s cape last year, which was fine.  I spent a good portion of the afternoon hunched over sewing this cute little black pocket:

The pocket

One thing that I forgot to do before I started on this venture was to see if the light would actually shine through the material.  My son came home about the time I discovered that it, in fact, did not. The bad thing about this is that the library Halloween party was tonight, and his parent-teacher conference was at 4:30.  Therefore I had very little time to remedy this.  After I got both kids their snacks I sat down and tried to think quickly.  I came up with cutting out the front part of the pocket so the light could go through.  That works, right?  Not so much.  I finally put the light in a ziploc bag, and pulled the material around it and then sewed the whole dang thing together to the costume.  He thought it was awesome.

Iron Man strikes a pose. I wanted to get the gloves to go with it, but ran out of money.

Then off to his conference.  Then back.  A quick supper.  Then it got REALLY interesting.  There were three parties, one for Pre-K, then for K-2nd Grade, and then the big kids.  So I would have to take one child up and have my husband bring the other up a half hour later.  This would not be a huge deal except that when  I went out to start my car the battery was dead.  The drivers side door appeared shut but it wasn’t quite.  We live not too far from the library, but we were already running late.  So I stuck my head inside, told my husband what happened, that I would take his car, would be back for the Professor around 6:30, and took off with Princess Gimme.

Now here is where I choose my words very carefully, lest I offend anyone.  I love our library, I think they do a great job with their kids story times and have a wonderful selection of books for such a small town.  But this years’ party was, well, short.  VERY short.  Like one game and it was over short.  The costumes were cute.  The kids were cute.  But that’s all it was.  I’m sure there was a reason.  I know we went a few years ago and it was much longer and there were lots of different games.  We’ve missed the last two years due to other stuff going on.  So it was over and done in twenty minutes.  And then they took the older kids, ahead of schedule.  I being the one parent who as usual missed the boat, did not have my older child with me since he was still eating dinner.

Cutest black kitty ever. She’s a manx in this picture-her tail is in her treat bucket.

I jumped in the car with my daughter, drove home, ran into the house to grab my son and no one was there.  Not a soul. Not even the dog.  This means that my husband had to walk on his injured foot to take my son up there.  Meanwhile, my daughter had already removed her shoes and was starting to eat her tootsie pop.  I made her throw them back on, and we sped back to the library.  There sat my husband with the dog.  How we missed each other I’ll never know.

I made him take the car and the Princess, and I went in to meet up with my son, who incidentally had already forgotten that his costume lit up.  I walked up to him, and pushed his chest to turn it on.  All of the kids went nuts-they thought it was the coolest thing they had ever seen.  The Professor, meanwhile, did not realize what I had done until about ten minutes after I turned it on (not sure what he thought all of his friends were raving about!)  He happened to look down later, see the arc reactor lit, and had a cow, “HEY IT WORKS!  IT WORKS”

It works! It works!

They played the same game that the preschoolers had played.  And then that was it.  Luckily, The Professor did not know what to expect, so he was very pleased.  We walked home, which took twice as long as it should have because he is distracted by streetlights that turn on and off by themselves.  He had to stop and ask questions each time we encountered one.  When we finally arrived home I gave him very specific instructions on what he needed to do.  He ended up taking the costume off, losing the hanger, and managed to take the light out and pull the pocket almost completely off.

This was when my head exploded due to all the work I had put in, my aching back, the scurrying around, the miscommunication with my husband, and the dead battery.  And oh yes, I got a call this evening to bring paper plates and napkins for The Professor’s school party in there somewhere in between the party and the pocket incident.  I will have money to get them tomorrow, but no way to go get them or get them to the school.  Therefore it will be plain paper plates and napkins instead of fun Halloween ones sent in my son’s backpack.  I feel so very, very bad about that.  There was just sort of an explosion of emotions from all of us.  I went upstairs, closed the door, and just had a nice little cry by myself.

After that well deserved cry I felt better, and talked to my son about his costume.  I have theorized that the pocket coming out was an accident when he took the costume off, because I’m sure he just stripped it off and tossed it.  I’ll never really know, because all I saw was him holding the light two inches from his face, walking into the living room (it wasn’t on, because then he would be blind-that thing is BRIGHT!)  Even though my husband swore up and down that his costume would not be fixed, I think I can fix it pretty easily.   Memories, dammit, we’re gonna make some great memories-because I’m the Mom and I say so.  Tonight is Trick or Treating.  Hopefully that will go much more smoothly.  And dammit, I’m going to have a Coke today.  Because I deserve it.  That will make everything go better.

And the car battery?  Oh it’s terminal, which I think is a pretty funny joke if you ask me.  Get it?

If Unicorns Fart Glitter And Poop Rainbows, Where Does Glitter Glue Come From?

This morning I told my daughter that unicorns fart glitter.  There was no particular reason for that.  It just launched out of my mouth.  I’m waiting for that one to come back to haunt me.  Probably during the children’s sermon on Sunday.  Gee, and I didn’t even think about them pooping rainbows.

My kids’ teachers are sooooooo going to hate them.  Call it my vendetta against public education.  You shun me, I’ll turn my kids and their big mouths lose on you.  Not really, it’s just the same stuff that runs rampant on my posts on here.  When I’m out in public and the social anxiety kicks in, a lot of people probably don’t even know I can talk.  But when I’m at home in my comfort zone, bizarre stuff comes out of my mouth.  It’s like the kid in me never quite went away, and I am sure that all of this will eventually come back to haunt me some day when my kids start blabbing to the teachers.

The Professor already has a serious problem with saying whatever flies into his brain, it then swoops right down out of his mouth.  This summer we were at Princess Defiant’s swim lessons.  Since he has a serious fear of any water that’s deeper than a couple of feet, he took private lessons and therefore played in the wading area while she was swimming.  He didn’t seem to notice that all of the other children there were a third of his age.  He DID notice the adults, and talked to them, nonstop, the entire time.

I was engrossed in watching my daughter when I overheard my son say to one of the parents, “You know, there are words that I can’t say.  Bad words.  My Dad says them, but he says I can’t.  I think that when I’m in third grade, I’ll be old enough to start saying those words.”  I quickly jumped up and put an end to that conversation before he started reciting all of those words that he’s not allowed to say.

Princess Defiant is still in the “Hey, Hey, HEY I Want To Be The Center Of The Attention And I’ll Say Anything To Get It” Phase.  Luckily, most of what comes out of her mouth is pretty tame.  Sometimes a little weird, and of course I have to jump in and offer an explanation (to which people think “Hey, she CAN TALK?”)  Most recently it had to be during library storytime.  Our awesome children’s librarian was reading a story, and I could hear my daughter over there saying “Hey, HEY!  GUESS WHAT?  Hey! I have something to tell you!”  I turn around and shush her.  I’m not sitting with her, because she wants me to be invisible unless she has to go to the bathroom.  She wants to be ALONE at the library during storytime, like her brother.  Anyhoo, me shushing from across the room is about as effective as me shushing her from somewhere two blocks away, because she keeps going.  Finally, she says in her loudest but not quite yelling voice, “I MADE A ZAMBONI!”

THAT got everyone’s attention.  The librarian and the good parents in the reading area all turned and looked at me.  I laughed nervously and told them it was something she made out of a box.  Everyone turned back around, but I got some straaaaaaaange looks.  Since I was already looking for my perfect nonexistent future employer on my laptop anyway, I pulled up the picture and showed them after storytime.  I still got some strange looks, but also some impressed ones too.  This was all her idea.  I simply supplied the box, paper, and toilet paper tubes.  Want to know how to make your very  own zamboni?  Oh, we have the goods right here.

For the record, this is what started all the zamboni business. I still don’t think she really knows what a zamboni is.

Kind of on the subject, I wonder what would happen if she saw a pile of glitter.  Would she think that a unicorn had visited?  For that matter, if unicorns fart glitter and poop rainbows, is she going to wonder where glitter glue comes from?  Ooooooooh, I really won’t go there.

Why Libraries Are Just the Coolest Place In the WHOLE WIDE WORLD!

No IPads at our house. Just library cards. All the humans in our house have one.

One of the perks of having kids is having an excuse to visit the library on a semi-regular basis.  It’s not that I didn’t visit the place before I had kids, but it’s nice having a legitimate reason to go there.  When I was a child, the library was a magical place.  It still is, but when you are an adult, life tends to get in the way of doing things, like going to the library. So having kids to insist on going there is a very good thing.

The other day we missed Preschool Story Time.  We didn’t go because my husband had taken the day off to spend with me.  That happens about as often as a solar eclipse.  We don’t exactly get to see much of each other, so library was an afterthought that week.  You would have thought that I had forgotten to give my daughter a life saving medication or something.  She was HORRIFIED, not so much because she had just missed the story time, but because her brother had got to go to his story time that week and SHE didn’t.

My kids live for the library.  That’s good.  Their grandma is a librarian, so they kind of get it honest.  What a wonderful place-all of those books, and they can borrow them FOR FREE!  The Professor has been reading since he was three.  Maybe even earlier than that, but we weren’t sure if he was really reading or just had a really good memory.  The Princess has just begun to admit that she can read.  Only she would deny that she could do such a thing.  Now that the secret is out she is reading everything.  Every sign, every random word placed anywhere, she tries to read it.

I finally took her to the library the next day to make up the fact that I had deprived her of the Story Time.  She walked in, returned her books, and proceeded to the kids section where she very loudly asked, “Where are the GIRL books?”  Apparently “Girl” books are any book that has 1) a princess on the cover 2) a girl on the cover 3) has a cute animal on the cover 4) is pink or purple. The next ten minutes were spent with me pulling books off the shelf and her approving or vetoing the selections.  We ended up with:  Unicorn Races by Stephen J Brooks;  Splat the Cat and Love, Splat by Rob Scotton; Mind Your Manners by Diane Goode; Halloweena by Miriam Glassman; Anklet For A Princess, A Cinderella Story From India by Lila Mehta and Meredith Brucker; Hippos Go Berserk by Sandra Boynton; and Go Away, Big Green Monster by Ed Emberley (this one was sparkly, apparently I missed that criteria).

Everybody loves a good princess story.

We also had to keep Olivia and the Fairy Princesses by Ian Falconer by which we had checked out the week before, because it had Olivia in it.  And Princesses.

It has been rather refreshing to have some different criteria to choose books.  Her brother will choose books if they have a popular character on them.  If Spongebob is on the cover, he’s probably going to check it out.  This is the child who reads far above his grade level, and books with Spongebob aren’t exactly high level material.  It’s difficult to get him interested in much else outside of the house, but yet at home he will read pretty much anything.  Though often he isn’t really “reading” these books, though.  He sits and turns the pages, but I’m not sure what he’s really taking in.  We pretty much know if it’s factual, because later on he will start reciting the facts back to us at random times.  I don’t know why I worry about what he picks at the library, because owns more books than most libraries have!

He has. My son, not the dog.

I myself enjoy picking out the more warped books for my children.  These are usually their favorites.  Tedd Arnold has three such books that we love:  Parts, More Parts, and Even More Parts.  My daughter loves the Olivia series and the Pinkalicious books by Elizabeth and Victoria Kann.  I regret a little getting her started on the Pinkalicious series, because I feel like I’m fueling the pink and princess craze.  But hey, they are fun to read.  I especially enjoy Purplicious, because of the snotty girls in the book.  I give most characters voices, and I get to totally read the snotty girls lines using my very best valley girl voices.  What is really funny is listening to her read the book and using the very same voices as I did.  We also recently checked out The Princess and the Pizza by Mary Jane Auch.  It’s a fractured fairy tale based on the Princess and the Pea and it is FUNNY!  I didn’t think either of us wanted to ever take that one back.   My personal favorite is Gregory the Terrible Eater by Mitchell Sharmat.  Having kids is fun.  I probably wouldn’t get to read any of these otherwise.

There isn’t really a bad aspect about any of this, except maybe their forgetful mother.  We do have some issues. It’s called overdue library books.  It’s better now because the one who remembers things is now old enough to know what days we go to the library, and is excited enough to remember to return her books.  Previously her mother would go weeks, sometimes months, and in one case over a year before returning books.  The last one wasn’t really my fault.  There was a purple bag that was full of books, apparently they were never returned.  It hung quietly behind the other bags that were innocently placed in front of it on the back porch.  When we rearranged the storage for the dog stuff, I discovered it.  I checked the due dates on the books, and to my horror they were over a year overdue.  Thank goodness our library isn’t real demanding about fees.  I sneakily returned them very early one morning before the library opened.  I don’t know why, it’s not like our librarians are mean or anything.  I don’t check out books for myself anymore, since it seems to take me forever to get them read, and even longer to remember to return them.  I do however, frequent the free magazine bin.  No returning after reading…

Guilty. Again and again.

We’ve got a few library stories. We’ve returned a few damaged books.  There was one time I had to march my son over there to explain why a book had teethmarks on it.  He had it while watching TV, and absentmindedly started chewing on it.  I wish I could say it was the only time that ever happened.  If nothing else, I’m sure it gave the librarian a good story.  I’m sure she just added to the secret list they have of why our family is overly weird.

Who can be upset by the fact that my kids love reading so much?  I’m certainly not. The only time it really gets to be an issue is at bedtime.  Princess Ready to Read wants every book in her room read to her, and her brother would stay up until the cows came home reading if we let him (of course we don’t, but we do have to remind him when it’s time for bed.)  I can think of far, far worse ways for him to spend his evening.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go read my daughter a book!