Maternally Deranged: It's Sonday!

Which follows the Saturday I spent noshing on french dips, croissants, and then lamenting over the love handles I have developed thanks to 4 pregnancies and my love for french dips and croissants. Izzy joined me, and we turned Saturday into a girls day out.

We tried on clothes, Izzy of course is cute and can wear anything. I, on the other hand, can no long pull off certain styles (ok, all of them except jeans and loose t-shirts). We left the mall, boasting a new skirt for Izzy and a new loose shirt for Moi.

Izzy was kind enough to treat me to a Izze soda at Starbucks. Before we called it a day.

Did I mention my lovely daughter has indeed inherited the cheap gene. It is hard to remember that when dealing with my funds, as she has no qualms plowing through the piddly little puddle of change that is my bank account. But hand the child a wad a cash, and you will experience a very different little girl. One that scoffs at the price of build-a-bear clearance sales, webkins at full price, and the fact that a large slurpee tops $2. Oh she is soooo my Daughter.

So, today, as she rushed out the front door to embark on some sort of super soaker challenge at her BFFFL's house (that would be "best female friends for life" to those of you who don't speak Tween). I settled in with the idea that I would enjoy a nice lazy day with my 3 sons.

The only real thing on our agenda was a trip to Walmart to exchange a controller for the highly coveted Xbox.

But first we had to start with a trip to timeout, a horrible 5 minutes sequestered in his room, Warren endured for something I can not recall at all. It was bad though, because I was really mad. Well, what happens when you send a 5 year old to their room, but don't stand at the doorway to watch their every move?

That would be a no girls allowed symbol applied to the wall next to the door to his room. So, as of 10 a.m. today, anything boasting a uterus or goes by the title of "mom", "mommy" or "ISABEL" is no longer allowed in the pit of boyhood. I'm not to torn up by this.

Time out completed, new punishment of no video games in place. It is time to go to Walmart, on a Sunday. The Church Crowd is just trickling in, and my 3 sons channeling feral cats. Im wearing flip flops, Warren wearing his boots. Yeah, it was painful.

And in the 24 hours from when Alex got his new controller, discovered it didn't work, and then I pulled out all of the packaging, receipt and instructions out of the trash can (one of those moments where the hubby endures the Darth Vader Death Glare as I repeat previous instructions of packaging retainment for situations JUST LIKE THIS, and he tunes me out). We find out, that everyone else in our town also went out and bought Xbox controllers that very same day, and they are now sold out!

Lovely. Alex feels that we should hit up the various other walmarts with in 100 mile radius, in search for a replacement.

Nope, not in the mood to herd feral cats through a store, much less my 3 sons who are not behaving as the perfectly behaved boys that I had given birth to.

Back home we go, and it is with my ever expanding wisdom that it is decided that perhaps the boys need some time outside. And since it is such a beautiful day, I can make an attempt adding some color to my pasty white complexion.