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.

Nature you scary

So it turns out that last week was pioneer day and since I practically work for Jesus it was a paid day off for me. I am not even sure what pioneer day is about but I don’t think getting caught up in semantics when a free day off of work is hanging in the balance is really necessary so I happily took it. Normally I would use the time off to catch up on really important things like drinking lots of caffeine and binge watching some ridiculous television show; but my sweet co-workers decided that they had a better plan for me.  They decided that we should go on an unsanctioned employee float trip down the river. I should have known it was a bad idea when we were not allowed to call it a work party so that the university would not be held liable in the event of some catastrophe. If the threat of death didn’t clue me in I should have at least declined on account of it being held in nature. You know that I hate nature. I can appreciate all the splendor, and marvel at the Good Lord’s creations but I would rather do both of those activities indoors safe from the less then desirable trial run creations. You know like mosquitoes and cats. I however was guilt tripped into attending said party. They know guilt is like my kryptonite and I was exploited. Here now is my account of the trip.

We were supposed to drop into the water at 1:00 but since we were going with a group of Mormons we ended up hitting the water closer to 1:30. Not to worry though I used that spare half hour responsibly and managed to eat at least three pounds of dirt thanks to the gale force winds that had picked up. I am not sure if dirt is nutritious but anything to stave off hunger right?

1:31pm- We arrive at the water’s edge of the warm river and prepare ourselves for the voyage. My good friend Jenn who actually organized the trip advised that we tie our tubes to the boys and so I dutifully obeyed. After all she is a veteran and I a mere rookie. It felt like this task took at least fifteen minutes when in reality it was like two.  I am sure that watching Myers and I try to negotiate 4 tubes that are each 53 inches in diameter was a hilarious sight.

1:33pm- We fling our strand of four tubes in the water and I put Thing 1 and 2 on the outside tubes and Myers and I take the two center tubes. It should be said that warm river is a total misnomer. It should really be called ice cold river full of fish poop but I suppose that that would be hard to sell to travelers. The water was FREEZING! It was the kind of cold that makes you suck in air so violently that you are afraid that the hole in the ozone layer was enlarged.  Turns out that the only thing worse than cold water is cold water that is touching your yiblets. All the other floaters tried to convince me that eventually my extremities would go numb and then the temperature wouldn’t matter. At this point I was committed so I took their words of advice and gritted my teeth.

1:35pm- I am pretty sure the first stages of hypothermia had set in and so I decided that I would embrace nature and enjoy my trip.

1:47pm- Our tubes decided that floating in a straight line was stupid so the four of us were all facing in different directions. I got my tube to flip around just in time to see a felled tree perched in the water. Myers instructed me to help him paddle away from the tree but given the fact that I am a land locked Idahoan I am pretty sure that I just paddle in the opposite direction that he was so we ended up going straight into the tree. At this point we got slightly wedged in its menacing branches. I am sure that getting one tube out would be no problem; four tied together is a different story. As I begin to realize that there was a distinct possibility that we might flip over I begin to panic a little bit.  Right before we walked out the door I asked Myers if I should grab the lifejackets. His response was why the water is barely four feet deep in areas so I left them behind. Now here we were with two kids who don’t know how to swim, a fast moving river, and two parents who apparently have decided to take on the parenting style of a neglectful bear. Luckily the kids were scared and hung on for dear life and we managed to release our train with only a laceration on my foot and a couple fifteen scraps on Brice’s shins.

1:50pm- I have just about calmed Myers back down after our first brush with death when I see a rock. I warn him of the upcoming obstacle and again paddle in the opposite direction from him and we end up hitting the rock dead on. Thing one and I are on one side and Thing two and Brice are on the other and the water is rolling over us at wicked high speeds. We don’t know how deep the water is, aren’t sure of the footing underneath us, can’t untie the tubes from one another and they are cinching ever tighter together, and again have two kids with no life jackets and no skill set in the swimming department. I talk Thing two into climbing into his brother’s tube the whole time praying that he safely makes it and then I start to wish that I was MacGyver. Surly his mullet would be able to get us out of this mess by its sheer awesomeness.  After a few minutes and a whole lot of freaking out later Brice hopped off his tube and flung both empty tubes over the rock and then dove back into his tube.  By this point all hopes of a peaceful trip have flown out the window.

2:10pm- we have made it a whole twenty minutes without a major disaster but I am noticing that I am sitting really low. I bring this to Brice’s attention and that is when we realized that somewhere between the tree and the rock I have popped my tube. That sucker was fifteen bucks and apparently can’t withstand a few extremely sharp objects? Lame. This requires our balancing act of throwing the two kids together once more and me sliding from my popped tube into the vacant tube.  While I was in the middle of all of this I was bitten by a horse fly and my whole arm began to swell up. I of course did the only rational thing and ended up swearing loudly in front of my children.

2:30pm- I hit a rock

2:33pm-I get stabbed by a stick

2:35pm- I start to turn blue because of the combo of frigid water, high winds and a soaking wet t-shirt

2:40pm- I start to wonder if I will ever see dry land again

2:45pm- I start to consider switching religions because I am pretty sure the Lutheran’s don’t celebrate pioneer day

The next hour kind of is just wash rinse repeat of the aforementioned five items.

3:45pm- We are finally within 100 yards of the dock where we get out. We are welcomed with stagnant water and are not moving at all. By this point my arms are so tired from trying to steer our sinking ship that I am starting to consider just living on the water forever. Luckily one of my co-workers brought a canoe and was acting like a towing service. As we creep towards the shore I tell the boys that they need to get ready to jump out to which my oldest responds- I can’t do that my wiener will get wet.  What!?! Seriously I have risked life and limb to take him out on this little adventure and his take away is that getting out of his tube might get his future manhood wet. Worry not though, we managed to get him close enough that he could hop out and stay completely dry.

Here is what I took away from the experience. Nature is evil, floating on arctic water is defiantly not a good time, earning that eight hours of holiday pay was harder than going in to my regular shift, I am still not going to win any awards for my parenting. Rats