Eight is great!

So despite all of my protest this guy turned 8 today.

 I am not sure if it the impending doom of planning a baptism reception for half of the free world or if it is just because his birthday landed on a Monday but I failed to pinterest the crap out of his birthday treat. While it pains me to type this I simply sent push pops for the whole class. Obviously I did not take a picture of this failure. 

I would like to think that I atoned for that sin by making him the cake of his dreams. Mind you this kid is all boy and I thought for sure that he would request video games or Pokemon or some other rando boy thing but alas he picked this.

I was happy to oblige and it was only after I made it and began to serve it that it all made sense. He managed to swing getting not one not two but three desserts in one. Cake and ice cream, kit kats, and M&M;s. This ladies and gents is definitive proof that this kid knows how to sugar!

When asked what he wanted for dinner he answered 50 chicken wings. We don't eat chicken wings so where this request came from is still a mystery to me. We took him to the wing joint and ordered 10 wings for him

He ate exactly 3. He did however manage to use thirty two wet naps, fourteen napkins and leave to the bathroom no less then 4 times to wash his hands. Upon noticing that he had gotten wing sauce on his shirt he announced that it was time to leave. This is ironic because this is the same kid who once tried to convince me that he was washing his hands by making the running water sound with his mouth. Dude couldn't even bother actually turning on the water. So I guess fecal mater no biggie wing sauce game ender? 

He made out like a bandit in the gift department so life is good.

I am acutely aware that protesting does little good when it come to stopping birthdays so  I will simply say- Happy Birthday moon, life is never boring with you around and your arrival made our family complete. For that I will always be grateful. Here is to many more happy birthdays.

Blue and Gold

As of last night we officially have two boy scouts under our roof.

 I am sure that there are many homes that would be beaming with pride at that last sentence. This is not one of those places. Any person who knows me knows that I am not a fan of the program. I have had religious folks, regular folks and perhaps a few sinning folks try to change my tune. But alas my opinion still sticks. The whole thing is a complex issue that may or may not involve a small amount of  feminist vigilantism. But before you begin to assume that my Subaru, faux hawk sporting, recycling ways have clouded my vision I have to  remind you of one thing. Boys scouts is expensive and I don'e even get cookies out of the deal. 

Here is my expensive tale- 

Since becoming a boy scout mom I have learned a few new phrases. One of them being Pack night. I am still not sure what this means. I have only attended two of them and I have to admit that the first one I almost ran out of the gym for fear that we were actually paying homage to a dictator. Fun fact chanting straight up freaks me out. Another fun fact there is a lot of chanting at pack nights. Because of the way that Thing 2's birthday lands his first brush with scouts was to be a pack night. Even though I was terrified at my first pack night  I did manage to notice that all the scouts had on uniforms so I knew I needed to let the boy wonder suit up so I took him to the store. 

Given that you can only buy your scouting needs in one place they have decided that customer service is not really necessary so I wandered around for at least 20 years trying to find the right area to get a shirt and when I did stumble upon them I waited another 29 years trying to find someone to explain to my why there were 12 smalls but no other size. Since no explanation was coming I decided to just do my best. I figured while we were there we would up grade shirts since Thing 1's shirt is less blue and more dirty violet. Apparently there is a magic sensor that I set off that indicated that their was a sucker on the hook and the once useless staff suddenly appeared to offer up an upgraded shirt in a completely different color for thing 1 for a mere 45 dollars. Knowing exactly zilch about anything scouting related I figured that brown was the new blue and went with it. Of course that was not all. We also needed the upgraded neckerchief, slide, numbers, patches and belts. And lets not forget the book and the hat and the socks. When I declined the book with the support of some stranger at the counter all hell broke loose. I was questioned about which affiliation I was with, who told me not to buy the book, if I believed in aliens or in Jesus and so on and so forth. Seeing my great discomfort the good Samaritan tried to come to my aid. She began to spew words that I can only assume where scout based, round table or national or bloopity bloppity. This infuriated the guy who was trying to take me for all I was worth. He countered with more scouty jargon which in turn generated more jargon from aforementioned good Samaritan. The longer the dispute went on the more uncomfortable I got. I hate confrontations but this concern was more routed in public safety. The scouting store attendant had clearly not seen the likes of nature in years as his figure attested and all the rage of being questioned was making his blood pressure rise. I was worried that he was going to have a full fledged heart episode and I know even less about CPR then I do about scouting and Lord knows while there were manuals to help me through this situation littered about  me opening would yield in fees and required manual buying and aint nobody got time for that. 

I was trapped and was trying to convince myself that I really didn't need any of this stuff after all and slowly tried to back my way out of the store since you know poking bears only leads to trouble. This story has a happy ending though. When he saw that the golden goose was about to vacate his premise he paused the fight long enough to ring me up and proclaim my total of 89 dollars. I handed over the cash-o-la and left the store.

In the after math this is what I discovered

1- I didn't buy a shirt for Thing 2

2- I didn't get the numbers for Thing 2's shirt

3-Brown is not the new blue but it is in fact the color that the leaders buy

So needless to say I still have to go back where they will bilk me for another 80 bucks- I have done the math that is 20 boxes of girl scouts cookies which according to my math gives me justification for my hatred for the program. 

house of mouse

So I am not very good at taking pictures let alone posting them to a public platform. With that being said here is our trip in pictures.

Our first ten seconds in the park!

Star tours is now 3D

Autotopia, we did this sucker like 10 times so here is round 1

We allowed them to go to the island and then let them run and play while we tried to recover. 

This is Myers favorite picture. We are still not sure what Thing Two is doing.

I don't usually like pizza but this was amazing! If you get around a Zpizza go.

Cars town

Day two was in  California adventure

Waiting to go on tower of terror. Holy Crap! Myers screamed like a girl the whole time!

More Autotopia. This time he tried to drive with his feet.

Observe how these two take amazing pictures. The other half of the family not so much.

The only souvenir that we bought for the boys. Custom light sabers.

Friday at the park was packed so we went to the beach!

This kid was in heaven

The two of us on Autotopia

Thing 2 bought these for himself and didn't take them off for the rest of the trip. Thing 1 was jealous of them but was too cheap to buy his own pair and spent the whole time convincing him that he had wasted his money.

On the way to the park Myers discovered there was a hole in his shorts and his yiblets were exposed. Not wanting to be arrested we stopped to buy new ones. The boys and I had a fancy hat club party because it took FOREVER to find the perfect pair.

The hands on the bus!

We found a Lego store in down town Disney. Thing 2 was in heaven and wanted to buy something. The line was super long and we had tickets to the Fantasmic so we had to go before he could buy anything.

Heart broken from being told no. I take the kid to the happiest place on Earth and I still manage to mess up my chance at mother of the year. 

Seriously these two pictures were my favorite! Waiting for the monorail.

There are obviously a million stories and some day you will stay over and we will stay up uber late and you can hear them because I can just tell that that is exactly what you want. Right? Right.

Secrets and magic

They said it could not be done but I proved them wrong. I tricked both Thing One and Thing Two into believing that we were going to Las Vegas on vacation. Any adult would have known that Las Vegas is in fact no place for  a kid and every look I got from them confirmed this but some how some way the boys missed all the concerned side glances. I almost cracked several times and there were a few close calls but we made it all the way to the finish line. Here now is the result.
The vidja is too big for this platform so cruise on over to the YouTube to watch.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqe8iDDtXwg&feature=youtu.be
Still pictures to follow.