Timber

This year Thing 2 is in the fourth grade. At first I thought my biggest concern was going to be the fact that I remember a lot from my fourth grade year and so I was going to have to be more careful with my rants and actually learn how to be a mom. Little did I know the real problem was going to come in the form of a gift.
Turns out the Obama administration passed an initiative that allows all fourth graders nation wide access to every national park for an entire year. The hope is that it will generate an interest in nature and dissuade the little tykes from spending inordinate amounts of time in front of screens. As an extra bonus it is a way to really tick me off since you know it's nature and all.
As one can imagine this has been a highlight of our fourth graders year and he carries his pass around on a lanyard and recites the rules of his pass to me at every opportunity. It has kinda of become white noise and I do the appropriate mom response of saying things like wow honey that's neat and sure thing pal we could totally do that sometime soon. During one of our little interchanges the excitement level reached fever pitch and as I was processing what was going on I realized that I had accidentally agreed to go out and chop down our own Christmas tree which turns out is one of the perks of the pass.
Since the fateful conversation he has given me a full list of all the reasons why this is a good plan.  The first one being that he was going to save me money since you know I wouldn't have to buy a tree this year. He is conveniently overlooking the fact that I never buy a tree since I have an artificial tree that sits under the stairs all year long but who needs logic in a situation like this? Neither one of us had to work on black Friday so we decided it was as good a day as any to venture into the wild. Here is the account.
11:10- We all get showered  and dressed and eat a sensible brunch of turkey sandwiches and left over pecan pie and then start to pack the car. It requires no less then 3 pairs of snow pants for two boys 5 pairs of gloves and 6 winter coats of varying heaviness. We then pull out of the driveway to buy a saw.
11:11- I remember that I saw a coupon for the ace and since we are trying to save money insist that we pull back into the driveway so I can find it.
11:13 -I now have the coupon in hand and we are really off
11:20- We check out at ACE after buying the only saw that they have for $8.10 thanks to my coupon
12:00- We arrive at the ranger station that we need to obtain our permit and Thing 2 is beaming at saving me $15.
12:01- We begin the back tracking to nature. That's right we had to drive all the way to Idaho Falls to pick up a pink tag to then turn around and drive back to Rexburg to chop the tree down. This is our government in action
12:41- We are back in our driveway so we can get a tarp to aid in the tree dragging process how it didn't make it in during our over packing phase is a mystery.
12:50 We have cleared the township of Rexburg and Thing 1 is already asking if we are there yet and starts pointing out anything that is green and could pass as a tree if you squinted.
1:23 We pass a ranger station in Ashton and I get angry inside
1:35 We are now in the Targhee National forest and now the trees are fair game. We turn on a side road and drive clear down into a snow filled canyon and find nothing but a few animal tracks which our boy scout wants to follow.
1:40- We have now left the canyon and found another trail that leads two feet into a field but see a tree and honestly contemplate just taking it
1:50- We are now on another poorly marked trail but we decide that there are enough trees to choose from and we exit the vehicle and gear up.
1:52- Thing 2 is confused about what our mission is and starts asking if we can scrap the tree idea and instead start a weasel hunting expedition.
1:53- I have to remind Thing 2 to stop swinging the saw around before some one gets hurt
1:54-  I have to remind Thing 2 to stop swinging the saw around before some one gets hurt
1:55-  I have to remind Thing 2 to stop swinging the saw around before some one gets hurt
1:58- We spot a tree and we think its perfect only to get to it and realize it is missing one whole side
2:00- Find another tree with the exact same problem as before but I am freezing since Thing 1 is wearing my boots and I am hoarse from reminding my child that he could kill someone and instantly lower my standards.
2:10- Timber! We have a tree but no weasel but we still call it a day
2:40- Stop at Walmart to buy a tree stand for $7.95 and cry a little when I realize that my money saving son has actually cost me more money then the tag goes for.

As a special thank you for freezing my yiblets off yesterday I was awakened first thing this morning by a panicked nine year old who needed to inform me before the sun was even up that his tree wasn't drinking. I am not at all looking forward to the next 30 days or so. Christmas who needs it?

leave your marx

I am not sure if I have told you but this is our last year of elementary school. For a little bit I was all upset about it what with my kids getting older and all. Worry not though I have found a loop hole which has taken my self pity to self congratulations. You see Thing One did his last year at the same school that Thing Two has found himself in. Turns out that Just as the tradition of elementary schools having a strong odor of hamster and urine the homework is also a part of the learning tradition. Two years ago I was googling the crap out of all of the ridiculous assignments that were coming home and putting forth my best effort. Now it has become old hat.
Last week I was informed that it was Veterans day- the war fighting kind not the animal saving kind. There was a veteran to be found and researched, a report written about their service and a poster to prove that they were in fact real. My laziness and inability to throw out poster board came in handy because I totes recycled the exact same poster and report that we turned in for Thing One. I am choosing to Ignore the fact that the silly thing collected dust under my bed for 2 years and instead putting a firm check in the win pile.
I am experiencing a little deja vu this week in the form of the great turkey disguise project, only this time I wasn't smart enough to save the first bird so we had to go back to the drawing board.
I kicked around a few ideas and mentioned them to the actual student who didn't seem all that interested in actually doing his homework until I finally just took the reigns. I may have fallen down a rabbit hole while doing my google search and somehow decided that Groucho Marx was a perfect disguise. This was a two part project and required a persuasive letter to convince the folks not to eat his pretend turkey. So as I was cutting and gluing in peace he was trying to write his paper. He kept asking me over and over again who the guy was and after showing his picture after picture I finally gave him a rough outline of what his paper should be about. I tell you it was super clever and included things about how his lack of talking would take away from the fun of eating him and so on and so forth. It only occurred to me AFTER he had written the whole thing that I had confused him with Charlie Chaplin. Needless to say the nine year old was not impressed. We reworked a few things and I am sure people won't know his mom was a little drunk and couldn't even keep two separate characters from two different decades straight.
Given that the project is due tomorrow we came down to finish putting the final touches on the thing and after examining him he informed me that he needed to have a cigar. I tried to explain that promoting smoking in elementary school was a bad idea.He didn't see it that way and after trying to reason with him for a few moments I realized two things. 1. I am too tired to deal with this crap. 2. I should probably never have been given kids.
So while the first turkey looked like this

This years turkey looks like this.

I guess no mother of the year award for me- suprise suprise

Boo Hoo

Life has gotten a little crazy around these parts which of course meant the first thing to go was this little project. I could come up with excuses but you are not here for excuses. I am pretty sure the reason you are here is poor grammar and run on sentences so shall we move forward.
I am being forced to come to terms with the fact that I am getting old. At first I pretended that I liked that. It started by embracing the wrinkles that are permanently etching themselves into my albino flesh. I told myself that they made me look more refined, more authentic. Then I realized that that was just tired Chris talking and she belongs locked up in some sort of well padded room. Then I tried to convince myself that getting older meant I was closer to retirement, then I checked my bank account and died a little inside. The final blow however came this year when the effects of me aging meant that my children are also aging and that slowly but surely the doors of their childhood are slamming shut.
The most painful of those doors thus far has been Halloween. As per tradition of stopping with the old trick or treating game at 12 it meant that this was Thing One's last time going door to door. I tried to put it out of my mind as I created one of the most epic costumes I have ever crafted but as the night loomed closer there was this gnawing feeling of despair. Then since he is my child he decided to kick a guy while he was down and asked to forgo Halloween night with Gram and Pops so he could trick or treat in his own neighborhood for the very last time. Like a dope I agreed. I tried to soothe that pain by dropping 60 bucks on Halloween candy which BTW I did not crack into until the actual night of Halloween. I deserve a medal please and thank you.
Despite my best attempts time marched forward and before I knew it the big night arrived. I had visions in my head as to how things were going to go and of course the reality was miles away from the expectations. I got left at home to pass out the candy and my kid didn't even look back.
Halloween has always meant a rowdy crowd and a group picture in front of the house. It is sitting back and watching Pops pace with excitement peaking through the window and calling out which candy he needs as per his algorithm which helps him decide which child deserves what particular treat. Its listening to Ma try to goad us into drinking her twenty two gallons of wasil. It's a constant stream of old friends and their kids and noise and chaos. This year was markedly different. By the end it was just Thing One and I walking our neighborhood, the neighborhood we waited a decade to belong to. Hand and hand I took my boy on his last adventure. It was quiet and dignified unlike the whimpering that followed later that night once he had passed out in a sugar induced coma. So while my mom heart is breaking wide open here is a recap of years past. If I wasn't such a disorganized slag I would have all of them but I changed computers as often as I changed addresses which is to say A LOT! So in the spirit of Halloween I am going to dress the part of an emotionally stable women when in reality I am the crazy cat lady chasing the evaporating moments of my kids youth.

redrum

welp summer has officially ended and week after week I meant to sit down and give an account of all the exciting things that have been going on in our house but then I saw something shiny and all hope was lost on ever actually getting that accomplished.
Things like

Winning not one but two signed balls at the Chukar's game. Thing One's was won after this was taken and after the sun had gone down so just pretend there are two there.

Or this

This is Thing One waiting to be seen at the Doctors office after shooting a brad nail through his finger at 60 psi. He strangely was more concerned about the pain of the tetanus shot he was going to receive. Kids are weird.
Or even this

This is the first day of SIXTH and FOURTH grade!!! When did I get old of enough for this garbage?

But the past is the past so I suppose we should all just move forward.
Yesterday we spent the morning working  on this little project

We are getting so close I can barely stand it. We started at 9 ish and by 2:30 I was still unshowered and completely tired and so I gave up. There is still no toilet and the shower is still not usable nor is the sink but it kinda of looks like a bathroom right?
What this picture does not show is the absolute torture it is to work with me. By hour 3 I think Myers was legit contemplating a divorce because I am demanding and lazy. A winning combination if you ask me. I usually just hover in the background pretending to work then fuss when things don't look right. Like the light being 7 inches off center that resulted in him having to flip breakers drill six new holes hold the light fixture up forever creating shaky arms then reattach it only to find it wasn't working and that the light box was still visible. This resulted in repeating all of those steps except the first one because the breaker was still off. When it finally got put up to my exacting standards and I went upstairs to flip the breakers the thing still wouldn't work. Turns out I hadn't flipped the right breaker. Add unobservant to my list please! Luckily he figured that out before he ripped everything back out.
After the whole ordeal and ignoring our children for half the day we agreed to be done and that he would go swimming with the boys while I ran a load to the dump and returned the work truck. While he was gone I did some soul searching and decided that I should try to atone for my crappy wife sins and decided that rather then catch up on Netflix shows I would instead mow the lawn as a I'm sorry I suck move.
I waddled over to the mower and then remembered that I needed to check the gas so I dutifully unscrewed the cap and found that it was bone dry. I was feeling pretty smart as I hefted our enormous gas can out of the garage. Normal people buy a simple red gas can from the CAL ranch to use. We are not normal people and instead use a can designed for power sports toys like four wheelers and motorcycles. This means it is way too heavy and the spout is like twenty feet longer then it needs to be and to try to use it is like trying to baptize a cat. Every time I have to fill it I spill approximately 3 gallons of gas on the grass. This time was no exception only this time I remembered to fill it on the driveway so as not to kill another patch of grass. Seriously our side yard looks like a patch work quilt of death. Again I was feeling pretty smart as I hefted that stupid thing back into the garage and started figuring out what I wanted to do with all of my bonus awesome wife points. Then I started the mower and things took an ugly turn.
The engine kind of sputtered to life and was not revving the way it should so in my evolved brain thought oh I know just tip it back a little and the gas will hit the lines faster. I did this and rather then roar to life like it normally does it coughed and stalled a little. Not to be outdone I left it there for just a second longer when the root of the problem became apparent. A mouse came flying out. That's not the truth pieces and chunks of mice game flying out.

I screamed and swore and paced the driveway trying to figure out what to do next. I elicited some help from a teenager to see if there were anymore mice under there and to see if he could find the head. When he gave the all clear I re-approached the machine with all the trepidation and disgust I had in me. I tried to figure out a way to push the mower using a broomstick whilst pushing myself on a skateboard so as not to touch or come anywhere near it but it didn't work out because you know science.
I am happy to report that I didn't cry the whole time all though I did strongly consider driving myself to the convenience store to buy a cigarette and a beer.  So lets recap. If you procrastinate writing about all the cute things in you life and then act like a butt Karma will intervene and give you something to complain about. You win Karma you win.

windy Wednesday

It has been brought to my attention by a few people that I have failed to write for weeks now. At first it was because my life was just a series of visits to the home depot and how exciting can it be to read about my budding relationship with Roger from plumbing? Then the problem became that I had yet to unpack and finish my new office. I had dreams of a custom designed desk that was pinterest worthy. Since I am said designer and Myers is the builder it is looking less like an envy inspiring work station and more like we went to the local dump and asked for a few sad scraps of wood and other random household junk and then glued it together whilst drunk. I am sure I am mostly to blame since I give instructions in fragments and then get bored if he asks what I am talking about and instead tune out to the Youtube. Either way it is depressing to work on and I have avoided it since acknowledging it means I might have to fix it.
Today though the dry spells ends.
Roughly six years ago our second Subby went to the shop for a new transmission. Every Wednesday when it is not finished I am promised that I for sure will have it next week and so it has been going. As I write Myers is at the shop trying to con them into giving us our vehicle back. This has meant that we are slumming it as a one car family. At first it was fine and we made do, but now it is just a giant hassle and I am starting to feel like I am a shut in. When I do go out to the store I drag my feet through the aisles thus prolonging my freedom. Thing one and two have officially run out of patience over this situation and now instead of balking at the idea of walking somewhere or riding bikes they actually agree to do it.
Today after I got home from work via my feet I asked them if they would like to go to the one o clock showing of Pan which is the PTO movie of the week. They declined and so I settled into my super grown up super fancy lunch of frosted flakes. Observe my lack of adulting skills whereas it becomes important later. At 12:51 they came downstairs and announced that they did in fact want to go the movie. I reminded them that we did not have a car and they both agreed to bike all fast and furious to the theater. I finagled my bike from the ceiling all by myself and since I didn't die figured it was a good omen and away we went.
I can't tell you the last time I pedaled that hard and my legs felt every inch of road but like true champions we made it by 1:01. The whole way there the boys agreed that missing the previews was actually a smart business move so you can imagine their delight when we walked in and found the lobby packed with other people who also must have decided three minutes before show time to hit the movies. Buoyed by other peoples lack of planning we stood in line for another 10 minutes. Finally it was our turn and we bought our requisite movie snack of two giant sodas and a giant popcorn. This is where our over confidence was punished by Karma herself. Fun fact once a movie starts finding a seat is about as easy as finding a seat in a coal mine. It was so dark in there that I may or may not have stepped on at least three babies and or three handbags. Jury is still out. We wandered  up and down the aisle twice and realized there were exactly zero seats. A large number of kids were actually sitting on the floor which makes me think that I do have a shot at mother of the year after all since those kids moms are most likely wolves or bears.
I decided that there was no way that I was going to sit on filthy concrete for 90 minutes and went to the lobby to ask if we could get a refund and come back to the three o clock showing. I guess this has never happened because the kid looked at me as if I had asked him in a foreign language. I guess my loud voiced carried because soon there was a group of 25 of us with no seats asking the same question with another 25 in line still buying tickets. They originally said we could get a refund but then when they realized they were going to have to give refunds to 50 people they quickly changed their tune and instead agreed to open a second theater to show us the stupid movie. They corralled us to the other side of the building and told us to wait ten minutes.
The ten minutes outside in the lobby was paired quite nicely with another ten minute wait inside the theater we had been reassigned to. At this point kids were running out of popcorn and a juvenile riot was about to break out so they came and announced that they were in the process of downloading it to the main computer which could take an additional 20 minutes. We were fine since we bought the refillable popcorn and we all agreed to wait it out. 20 minutes turned into 30 and after waiting a full hour after the movie should have started we decided to cut our losses and bike home.
I went out and asked for the promised refund. The girl looked at me and said that's fine but I am not going to refund your concessions but I will refill your popcorn. At this point I had to remind myself that I am supposed to be nice in public to refrain from screaming I don't give two craps about the concessions what about the hour of my life I am never going to get back and or my lost opportunity at a nap! I declined the popcorn but the boys saw their opportunity to bilk them for more soda so I agreed to a refill on the beverages.
This is where things take a turn for the worse. It was only after I left the stupid movie house that I remembered that we were on bikes and that carrying out a popcorn tub the size of my head wasn't a good idea. An even worse idea was allowing Thing one and two to lug out not one but two giant beverages. The exit doors don't have exterior handles so I was stuck. Thing two hands me his soda and says here you carry this. I had to remind him that I had to carry the popcorn. Thing One missed this conversation so we repeated it word for word. They asked how they were going to get their liquid sugar home and I said ride one handed I guess. So that's what we did. Three giant monkeys each carrying on oversized concession for over a mile. This would have been a doable task but we live in crappy windy Idaho and of course the wind speed was over 20 miles today. My popcorn bucket became a source of wind drag that could condition me and help me win the tour de France iffin' I wasn't afraid of people looking at my Ken bulge. At every turn I had popcorn blown at my face and left behind a trail of artificialy flavored snackrels for the local vermin. By the time we got home I had lost a good portion of it making me realize that once again my cheapness is my curse.
So lets recap my lack of adulting skills lead to
I didn't get a nap, my kids didn't see a movie, my lungs burn from over exertion, and somehow someway the Paramount still made money off of me. Being responsible sucks. I am going to go back to the sixth grade..I can still rock purple stirrup pants right? Right.

Pass the Cheese please

So construction has overtaken our lives. I have lived in a thin haze of various materials. First it was saw dust from the framing. Then it was insulation dust which may or may not be hazardous to my health whereas this was the only crew who wore aspirators to do their jobs. As the homeowner they didn't issue me one so fingers crossed I am safe! Then it was dry wall sediments and mudding. The final steps have been laze physical dust and more chemical fumes as we painted and epoxied.
At each stage I have been grumpier and grumpier. I barely get the concrete swept before the next layer hits and I could lie and tell you I have been attempting to wage the same battle upstairs but right now I could probably grow tomatoes on my window sills and blinds. Today I hit the proverbial wall.
We have been attempting to put the doors back on now that the jams are painted and the carpet is installed. Really Myers is doing the work, I lie on said carpet watching you tube vidjas and or making inappropriate jokes. This project is now at day 8. Everyday we set out with hopes of getting 3 or 4 done and everyday we get one hinge on. Why the slow going you ask? Why in our naivety Myers took all the hinges off of every single door with out labeling a single one of them. To add to the fun he also failed to mark any off the doors. In case you are as unfamiliar with doors as I once was it turns out that each door needs to be kept with not only its hinges but also its original jam to ensure that it will close. What we now have is a giant jigsaw puzzle that is most likely unsolvable. After a lot of contemplation and a lot of backing screws out we are kicking around the idea of just not having doors. I think shower curtains could look nice and really who needs privacy?
By the end of our allotted work time today I was completely despondent. So I did the only adult thing I could think of which was to take up residency on the floor in the only room which has a door that works and cry. I fully intended on staying there until I was completely dehydrated and then it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I have become a basic white girl who whines about things that I should instead be grateful for. I suddenly became acutely aware of the amazing blessing it is to be able to have started this project in the first place. To have jobs that fund this adventure. To have two beautiful beavered teeth boys who have been incredibly patient while their parents move at sloth speed in the underbelly of the house. For the friends and neighbors who have showed up to lend assistance and expertise. For my parents who have rescued me more then once during this project like driving out of their way to pick up paint before the store closed and then hand delivering it to me. For my mom who is building me custom doors when prefab ones suddenly wouldn't work. For my siblings who have lent vehicles and didn't mind when they didn't get returned as quickly as I thought they would. And for so many other things.
Suddenly the dust doesn't feel as suffocating and the flaws and set backs don't feel like they will end my world because 2 months ago we started with one wonky wall and have been able to watch this unfold.

Who knows maybe tomorrow we will have three hinges done.

Happy Birthday to me

I am not big on birthdays. In fact most times when someone asks when my day of birth is I usually answer that I was not born but rather hatched out of a test tube in a laboratory. Fun fact I once had somebody buy this story. I still have conflicting emotions about this. On one hand it makes me laugh endlessly that they would buy it and makes me believe that I could win big in Vegas because of my poker face. But then it also makes me incredibly anxious because if Michael Jackson is right and this child is my future then I am screwed. But I digress.
Yesterday was  in fact the day that I made my entrance into this world. As such I was lucky enough to receive a beautiful bouquet from my person in Boise which was incredibly sweet of her. I don't know which was more exciting the gift or the opening of the gift. They came from an online floral company and it was the most thorough and well planned out system I have ever seen. After following a few instructions I ended up with an arrangement that looked like it was straight out of a magazine instead of the pile of floral mess which is what I would have created as a half trained chimp, it was simply amazing.

Old man Myers also was able to keep a gift a secret all the way to the end. This is more astounding if you realize that my super sleuthing plus incredible powers of deduction have always thwarted his plans for every holiday. That was a lie. Really it is because he has an awful poker face and therefore I am able to guess every gift he buys. He is most definitely not invited on my excursion to Vegas.

Little did I know though that the real gift would come courtesy of my boys.
Thing 2 is obsessed with the bean boozeled game from Jelly Belly. I however am not into it for a number of reasons. First off I watched a documentary all about aforementioned and it angered me so for moral reasons I refuse to buy Jelly Belly's. This self righteous stance is only solidified by my cheapness. I am not sure if the fine folks of the bean world realize that charging six million dollars a pound for jelly beans is criminal but I am here to tell you it is. So even though he has begged and pleaded for months to allow me to buy him this silly game I have refused. Today his luck changed and the video is reward enough.

Again follow the link to the You Tube.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EEl1UlnKrYA
If this is how year 35 starts out I think it will be a good one. Fingers crossed!

Welp this is a little bit awkward. I meant to write a post all about Thing One turning eleven but then I almost died. I got the influenza. Not the pretend kind that people always claim to have when they puke and feel tired. The real kind that takes a cotton swab up your nose that they shove up there until it is  brushing your brain and eliminates happy memories to diagnose kind. I contracted said illness on his actual birthday which meant that I had to buy him a store bought cake. Out of sympathy and massive amounts of love his Grandparents took him to the movies and to dinner salvaging his birthday. I did manage to hang five streamers and make three panda balloons which felt more like completing the Boston marathon by hopping it instead of running it. Then I found out I had giant papillary conjunctivitis. If you are feeling brave you should do a google image search on that crap. Let it be said thought that anytime the word giant is in the diagnosis it can't be a good thing. By the time I felt good enough to make him his make up birthday cake it felt too late to post about it. But in the name of science here are some pictures.

Thing One's cake

Lemon cake raspberry filling and a whipped cream and cream cheese icing

The steamers. If you look close you can see that I customized a few panda balloons because whilst they make cow balloons panda balloons are apparently not a thing.

Then Thing Two turned nine and I was healthy enough to make his birthday cake and create class treats that were way better then any of the lame ideas on pinterest.  I felt like writing a post all about his special day of birth and not his brothers would make it look like I loved him more and I didn't want that because let's face it I barely tolerate both of them equally. So I made a judgement call and did nothing. Here again are the belated photos.

Thing Two's  cake

Chocolate cake whipped peanut butter icing with chopped Reeses peanut butter cups between each layer

The classroom treat. Giant chocolate chip cookies.

So now here we are in April and I have decided that if I don't end this dry spell the next post will be about one of them graduating college or getting married.
Of course catching you up on old stuff feels a little like cheating so I have decided to give you a sneak peak into our latest adventure.
We have been throwing around the idea of finishing the basement and before I could formulate a comprehensive list with all the reasons why we shouldn't do it old Myers tricked me into signing my life away in the form of a HELOC.  He may or may not have screamed is that a baby wolf and while I was looking he finished the application process. At least I am  pretty sure that is  how it happened. We found a person to frame and dry wall and an electrician who informed me that none of the wiring downstairs is safe or legal and a person to sell us HVAC crap and we figured we were as good as gold. We were slated to start construction on Tuesday and the drywall guy came by on Friday to pick up half of his fee so we could start on time. Not ten minutes after he had the cash in hand he knocked on the door again and said hows about we start tomorrow instead. I being the lunatic that I am agreed and only after I shut the door did I realize that it meant that I had less then 24 hours to haul all the crap out of the basement.
By some miracle and a few bribes that consisted of clearance Easter candy we made it with 20 minutes to spare. So this morning my basement looked like this

But this evening it looked like this

 Two of the three  bedrooms all framed in

Standing in the Family room looking into the two bedrooms.

the room on the right with the bucket is the bathroom.

So what does this all mean? Why it means anytime you want to give up your wicked ways and come back to Idaho you can move in!

V is for very dumb ideas

Welp it is officially that time of year again when I spend weeks preparing at least six million valentines over the course of three weeks. The payoff of is that they are destroyed and forgotten exactly thirty two seconds after they have been received but those seconds in between are magical. I made the  mistake this year of watching videos on YouTube of people who are really really fast at their jobs. There was one woman who could wind spindles faster then a machine and another who could package playing cards at head spinning speeds. This led me to feel severely inadequate when it came time for me to fill bags with jelly beans. At one point I began to be discouraged over the thought that my slow tying skills would never be featured on a highlight real. After all who wants to watch a slightly advanced chimpanzee woman make valentines. It was then that I realized that I may have become a little delusional which is bound to happen when this is what you are looking at for hours on end.

That and my super incredible mother had just dropped off my super fancy table top that she refurbished out of wood she salvaged. I am still not exactly sure if it is even legal to take said wood but either way I got a new table. The varnish on it is still very fragrant so between the latex and the fumes  it is no wonder I had small visions of grandeur.
So even though I won't be featured in any videos any time soon I still finished these puppies up

It was only after amassing that giant pile above that I realized that perhaps giving a whoopee cushion to a grown adult who is in charge of educating my child was not going to win me any points so I spent a few more minutes creating special valentines for them.

I figured since I had won all sorts of mom points that I could do no wrong so today when the boys asked if they could get there bikes down to try them out I was like watch this not only am I going to create boss valentines I am also going to be a boss mom and allow it.
In my defense the snow has melted off the streets and has been replaced by puddles that are more akin to lake Wobegon then to snow waste and the wind advisory had been lifted. So away we went in thirty three degree weather. Things were going along just fine until we hit a bridge covered with slush and several inches of snow. I took the high road, literally,  the boy howdy's must have missed that little fact and before I knew it both of them were precariously navigating the obstacle. I would have like to have been a more attentive cheerleader but the aforementioned road was actually main street which has shrunk by a third by very ironical snow mounds so cars were whizzing by at incredibly close margins.

The crew, observe this stretch of road had zero snow, this is called vindication.

We made it to the grocer where I figured that I deserved some sort of reward for being a negligent mother and set out to buy some beloved Cadbury mini eggs. The only problem is they were asking way too much money and whilst I may not have been able to feel my face fingers or lower extremities I still have my principles so I left them on the shelf.
The ride home was pretty uneventful minus Myers almost catapulting over his handlebars when he got stuck between railroad tracks and severe mud. Thing One nearly lost control of his bike and carened into a snow bank at neck braking speeds which he later stated was the most terrifying thing that has ever happened to him. And Thing Two fish tailed into no less then 3 cars who luckily have more common sense then I have and were able to avoid him. Like I said uneventful.
It was only after we were safely tucked back into our neighborhood that I realized that the eggs were only fifty cents more then what they were on sale for. Turns out my logic is as good as my parenting skills.
Maybe I can find a few stray jelly beans. Fingers crossed.

Ice Cold

A few weeks ago we made a new addition to our house. After a whole lot of thought we decided that if we were ever going to increase our mileage the boys were going to need an upgrade in bikes. Especially since Thing One's upgrade was a massive mistake. We bought a K-mart mongoose which I believe is one of the fiercest animals in the wild kingdom. What we got was the fiercest piece of crap on the market.
So while other people were driving around with weather appropriate gear strapped to the tops of their roofs we were driving around with this.

I really thought that perhaps this was going to be the year that I would FINALLY be nominated for mother of the year but then I go ahead and buy bikes in the middle of the winter. The boys got to ride to the end of the parking lot and back and that was it. Thing Two got a little extra time whilst I was trying to coax my frozen fingers into actually tightening Thing One's down onto the racks which only broke his little boy heart wider open when he was forced to hand it over to me.
For a few days he kept asking if he could just put on his helmet and ride to the end of the driveway and back up but since out yard currently looks like this I was forced to say no.

To give you perspective that hill is taller then I am and I fear for our little sapling  in the spring since it has also almost been overtaken.
It is really difficult to try and rationalize with a daredevil and even harder to try to teach the principle of black ice which is what our entire driveway is.
There has been much weeping and wailing and every time we drive into the garage and see this there is more guilt lathered on in hopes that someday soon I will give in and just pay to have heads sewn shut.

The guilt is becoming so great that I am actually thinking about driving to Punxsutawney to punch stinking Phil in the face because punching a fictional rodent seems like the kind of rational decision I would make. You win winter you win.

Not smarter than a fifth grader

January is winding down which can only mean two things. One we are covered in at least six million inches of snow which is sucking my will to live and B it is time to cram and finish Thing Ones monthly book report. I recall being in the fifth grade and believe it or not book reports had in fact been invented by that point. I recall writing several compelling essays about the inner workings of the babysitters club. Even at that tender age I knew that  Kristy sounded like a real jerk. I remember things like this because after reading the stupid book I was required to write a synaopsis of the thing. Another booky word I learned from writing reports. Apparently there is a new consipacy a foot becuase now that my child is in the fifth grade writing a book report is not good enough. Nope now we have to spend an ungodly amount of time creating visual learning aids or some other pretend word that they use to trick me into believing that it is valid.
The process is always the same however.

• The genre  is issued at the first of the month and Thing One tries to convince both of us that instead of getting a grade appropriate book he is going to shoot for the moon and get a thousand pager. We have a minor melt down in the public library and try to avert prying eyes away from our circus. Do you know how hard it is to freak out in a quiet voice? Turns out it is impossible don't worry Thing one has demonstrated it month after month
• By the 5th of the month Myers is reminding Thing one to read. This leads to another melt down about how insert what ever subject matter is really stupid and he already knows everything about it blah blah blah
• The 15th comes and we again ask how the book reading is coming along. The response is equal in pain and punishment to chasing a badger down a hole. 

• The 27th rolls around and then it is crunch time. This usually results in the table being covered in all manor of craft supplies, thirteen emergency trips to the Walmart for some vague supply that we have to have, a lot of tears and door slamming and finally Myers and myself staying up way past our bedtimes to finish our Thing ones report. 

This months "report" was a five player game that did not include anything about the plot, theme or anything else that would elude to its purpose.
This is how Thing One handled it

This is what we were doing

After some inspired crafting on my end and a lot of erasing on Myers end we pulled it all off with exactly zero help from the student.

To add insult to injury when it was all said and done he came up to Myers and asked him the following question.
So Dad exactly when was it that you went through puberty?
I don't think he would have time to formulate these questions if he was instead focusing on subplot. Thanks for nothing fifth grade!