Bells will be ringing

Welp, it happened. Summer drifted away and school has started once more. This day is always a little weird. I am fully aware that I am working myself into motherly unemployment but dadgum if I still don’t get a little sad when my employees keep growing.

So here is a small recap-

I came home from work early so that I could be there when the boys woke up for the first day of school. I laid down for a fifteen minute snoozaroo and woke up to find them completely dressed and waiting for breakfast.

I actually debated trying to convince them that that cold cereal was in fact what they wanted for breakfast not pancakes and eggs.

I made the pancakes and eggs and somehow managed to  pack lunches all while half asleep- Culinary school and its eternal lack of sleep is really paying off now!

I argued with thing 2 for ten minutes as to why he had to have his hair done. His excuses included but were not limited to, it hurts my hair, I look like a girl, it is not even Sunday and finally the mother of all excuses THIS IS SUCH LAME! I don’t even have the energy to explain to that kid that sentence makes exactly zero sense.

Brice gave the boys back to school blessings and called our first born Ethan Brenen. I think this is a sign that there has been one too many exasperated cries this summer.

We took our requisite first day of school pictures in front of the door that I made sure to cute up last night. This is what we got. The one day Idaho sees sun seriously.

So then we got a beautiful shot by the garage. Werk that awesome scenery.

I realized that even if your children insist that they want to wear flip flops for the first two weeks of school it will be too cold to do so and their toes will freeze and the other mothers will judge you for your lack of parenting skills.

Eventually name tags will be donned friends will be found, bells will ring and  another year will start once more.I wonder if it is to early to turn in my application for unemployment benefits?

Not so tough after all

I sent these two away today. 

They went camping with my sister so Brice and I have a whole week to ourselves. The longest time we have ever had together alone in the ten years since being married. I have known about this impending trip for months. Long before we packed up our lives into boxes with the promise of a better life. Long before that promise melted into homelessness. Long before the heartache and stress resulted into the miracle of finding our dream home. It was a beacon in the night. It was the promise that if we could hold on for just a little bit longer we would be rewarded with sleeping in and eating ice cream for dinner. As life always seems to do time ticked along and this morning I found myself no longer holding on for a few weeks longer but for a few hours as I over packed my boys just in case they had a chance encounter with a bear and needed the twenty seven pairs of underwear I packed to turn not only into a tourniquet but also a gurney to carry the injured out of the woods.

I realized that Thing one somehow became a boy which really is the politically correct way to say he is gross.  I of course have evidence to back up this claim. This is the conversation I had with him.

I packed flushable kandoo wipes- you know the ones with a grotesque picture of a frog wiping his proverbial can. This elicits a lot of questions that I will never have answers to.  Really, think about it, a frog delicately placing a wipe over his slimy fingers to protect them because apparently amphibians have an aversion to the poo finger, Kermit the frog damn sure never sang about that one. But I digress.  Thing one asked why I was packing them and I delicately answered so he could wipe his can. But lets be honest I probably was a whole lot more crass about it. He accepted this answer then saw me packing soap to which he asked what I was packing that for. I again answered to wash his can. He looked at me and without a hint of sarcasm asked do I have to do both? I mean can’t I just choose between the two? Yep that is my super hygienic 9 year old. Needless to say suddenly the idea of escaping from him for a whole week got even better and I added to my growing list that I wouldn’t have to make comments about stench or why gas clouds at the dinner table are not acceptable.

The boys were super naughty and by the time we got to the drop off point Brice and I were practically dizzy with the prospect of all the things that we were going to do. We patiently waited while the truck took forever to pack. We diligently loaded alongside in hopes of speeding up the process and I even sped across town to pick up pizza to feed to the campers to expedite the departure. And then life as it so often does stopped me dead in my tracks and taught me I am not ready for reality.

We said our good byes, kissed our tow headed children and cheerily packed ourselves into the car. I was doing the typical one last thing and don’t forget we love you out the window as Brice was cranking the steering wheel to drive us to freedom. I told thing one to have fun and he flopped his half eaten pizza slice around in one hand and went to lift his other fist in triumph when all of a sudden his boy face turned into a grimace and he started to cry in the middle of his war cry. My mom heart immediately broke and I to began to cry. Luckily my future is so bright I wear shades and thus my secret was not exposed. I tried to sound confident as I began to list why he was going to have fun and my oversized man child climbed into my lap and continued to sob. I am sure we looked ridiculous. He started listing logical explanation as to why he couldn’t go the top being that a whole week away from home, even if they are dotted with pocket knife use and swimming was much too long to be away. Eventually I got him to believe me when I said it would be fine and we tried the departure again.  As soon as we pulled away I turned to Myers for comfort and that is when I realized that he too was crying. It is funny how your heart can simultaneously break and soar at the same time. In the middle of my torment I was reminded how lucky I am to have a giant man who loves his boys so much that to see them ache makes his heart ache equally.  

For the record I did have ice cream for dinner but ironically it was more for comfort than for celebration. Who knows maybe I do have a shot of mother of the year after all.

Well played son well played

We took our boys to see Mr. Peabody and Sherman this week. They have been looking forward to it all summer since it was the one PTO movie that they had not seen. Two weeks ago I said we were seeing it and I thought their little souls had been crushed when Turbo came on the screen. Turns out I can't read and had shown up to the movie theater a week early- ooops. Luckily a half gallon of root beer and fifty pounds of popcorn will fix any error. So take two was a success. The movie was awful and I should be awarded six million mom points for sitting through it. One of the closing lines in the movie is that every dog should have a boy. I swear to you I saw the whites of Ethan's eyes in the dark at this moment and you could hear the little gears in his brain turning. Sure enough as soon as our helmets were locked on our noggins he repeated the line to his father. So Charlie came home.

 Kids are smarter than they look I tell you.

Evil or Genius?

So in a moment of weakness earlier this year I broke down and bought my children each a 3DS. I vowed I would never be one of those parents that allowed expensive electronics but I justified the purchase by telling myself that they were buying half of it with birthday and Christmas money the whole time knowing that this was a thin lie at best. Ever since that day these stupid things have become the bane of my existence, almost karmic punishment. They are forever getting lost which results in Chernobyl like break downs. My boys are constantly glued to their tiny screens instead of taking up temporary hooligan status during our fifteen minutes of warm weather. Perhaps worst of all they laugh at the rules and flounce their disobedience as if they are suggestions that are clearly not for them. In an attempt to restore order Myers and I remove them from their grubby little paws at the end of the evening and relocate them to various spots. Somehow retrieving them has turned into a battle of will and wits.  Here are the latest exploits-
 A few weeks ago Brice got a text message from me that asked where Ethan’s DS was. He dutifully responded and life was good. Problem was the text was in fact not from me but rather from aforementioned child. When he called an hour or two later and asked if I had found it I was confused and it was then that I looked at the correspondence and was mortified. The blasted thing was full of spelling errors and how or why my spouse thought it could have come from me made me instantly wonder if Brice thinks that he is married to  some ape woman with no typing skills. I laughed it off and clued old Myers in to the scheme and we had a good laugh about it together and life went on. You would think that the boys being caught in their little game would be enough to put to an end to it all but somehow they took it as a challenge to up the ante.

This is what happened a few weeks after the first go round.

As you guessed from the horrible misspelling that again was not me. Notice however that they cleverly used a few of my catch phrases like please and thank you and then to really throw the guy off the trail added love you at the end. This would be mildly entertaining if this was the end of my saga. It however is not.

After successfully stumping the chump not once but twice they got super bold and went for the jugular.

Brice got a call from me and since he was at work let it go to voice mail. When he checked the message two seconds later this is what he heard.

Hi handsome I can't find the power cords so I need you to call me and tell me where they are thank you love you bye.

While the boys are able to pass themselves off as the opposite gender whilst texting audio is a little more difficult so he instantly knew it was not me but rather our youngest pretending to be me. He laughed and went back to work. Two minutes later the phone rings again only this time he answers. Here is the exchange.

"me"Hi handsome so I found the power cords but now I am going to need you to tell me the passwords.
Brice- Buddy what are you doing with mom's phone?
"me"- Wait you know this is not mom? I guess I am busted huh- bye
He then hangs up. There really are so many questions but mainly why did he think that after ten years of marriage that Brice would some how not know what my voice sounded like? I tell you children are fantastic.
What is even more amazing is knowing how much I loathe those things I allowed this to happen this week

That would be a cotton candy stand so that the boys could earn money for more DS games. So there you have it. On some sick level I must either hate myself or love those silly games. Either way we know that they get their genius from their father.