Blood Is Thicker Than Sweat.....

So, as I have previously mentioned.  The Hubs has shunned Golf and decided it is his destiny in life to bring Fight Club to Stepford. 

The Moops though, being who he is, has mentioned his desire to experience the life that involves golf carts, metal sticks and small white flying objects.  He has been asking me daily when his tee time is.  And he even brought home a flyer from school, stating he can take golf lessons AT school!

But that is neither here nor there.  Until I sell a kidney, the kid will have to wait.  Golf is expensive, and Alex needs braces.

And with The Hubs coming home, covered in blood.  Well, there might be an ER trip in our future.

Fortunately, tonight it was not The Hubs' blood that stained his shirt.  It would be the blood of the dude, whose finger nail is no longer attached to his finger. 

I cringe as I type that. 

I had the Hubs throw the shirt away.  And I dread pulling his GI out of his bag, I hope that isnt bloody.  It's hard enough to get the sweat stains out of of pure white uniforms intended for blood sports.   Blood is down right near impossible. 

Just an FYI.  If blood in your clothing in an issue.  Here is what you do......

Take an old toothbrush and some dish soap.  Scrub the dish soap into the stain, and break it up as much as possible.  Then shove the clothes into our washing machine, fill it with cold water.  Add in a cup of vinegar and 1/4 up baking soda.  Let it agitate for a few minutes, then stop the cycle and let it sit for a while.  Either a half our, or until you go to start another load and realize you forgot that you had started the current load.  Finish the cycle.  By then, the blood stain should be gone.....  Old blood stains are a little harder to get out though, just an fyi.

And, well that is all I have for tonight.  It's Thursday, tomorrow is Frieday.  And well, Im ready for Sunday....

Multiple Personalities

I have 2 situations brewing simotaneously.  First, I have a household with 6 members, each with their own distinct genetic make up.  This always proves to be challenging when it comes to planning things, because most likely someone is going to feel they ended up with the short straw.

There are very few daily tasks where everyone is happy, and usually thase involves tacos, doughnuts, soda, or cash.  But, even then you risk the wrong type...  It's like the lottery, with an unlikely chance at unanomous satisfaction. 

Then there are horomones, and not mine.  The horomones I speak of are saturated with puberty and a hint of body odor.  Often times, you will not know how even the best news will be received.  Or just how long someone can pout until they forget why they are pouting. 

And then there are moments where mediation or perhaps a SWAT team would be helpful.

Today would be a perfect example of what I am talking about.

Izzy is on Winter Break.  But, being the loving caring evil Mother that I am, she has tutoring from 8:30 to 11:30 three days this week.  After All I have to give that Tiger Mom lady a run for her money......  And no Izzy is not the only kid in the group, there are about 50 kids whose Mother's forced them to go. 

Izzy is not too happy with this plan.  In fact, she has expressed her opinion in more ways than I can count.  And I have had to channel my inner wall as a defensive tactic. 

I had to chuckle as I watched her approach the car line at her school today.  She was smiling and bubbly until she saw me.  Once she noticed me, the pout shrouded her face.  As she climbed into the car, she slumped into her seat and crossed her arms.  I think it took every ounce of control to keep that up, because she was a bit antsy.

Once we got home, she eased up a bit.  There was some TV, there was lunch.  And then it was time for the park. 

Please note, it was Izzy's idea to go to the park.  The boys did not want to go.  Ike had this whole scenario going with exploding legos and army men falling off the landing of our stairs.  Moops and Alex were completely engaged in a thrilling episode of MythBusters.  So there was some coaxing, there was a little bit of a resistence.  And we had to find Ike's other shoe.

Everything was going well though, that is until Ike asked to drive the "LONG" way to the park, which is like 15 seconds longer than the short way.  You would have thought Izzy's hair was on fire, by her reaction.

When we finally made it to the park, she then refused to get out of the car.  My inner wall is really getting used a lot lately.  I finally got her out of the car, by leaving her in the car by herself.  She's 11, if she wants to pout, she can do it by herself.  And she lasted a whole milisecond, and was out of the car before I was. 

She then got herself comfortable on a park bench, crossed her arms, and continued her protest of a good time. 

It was only when I told her she could not play the marble game on my phone that she decided she would give the playground a chance. 

That was until.........  Dun Dun Dunnnnnnnnn.  Some kid that was in her tutoring group showed up.  Back on the bench she was, seething with irritation and Izzy rage.  Apparently the kid is annoying, and caused Izzy great strife.  I think if you were to ask him what he thought, he wouldn't have a clue what you were talking about, or who Izzy was. 

After a good hour at the park, and Alex needing a good hosing off.  It was time to head to Jiu Jitsu.   Izzy didn't want to go.  So, back to pouting we returned.  I think she forgot she didn't want to go, because once we arrived she was having a grand ol' time. 

Well, she was having a grand ol' time until I told her it was Alex's turn to sit in the coveted seat of the minivan.  This time pouting wasn't enough.  We got an all out meltdown, stomping of feet, crossing arms, a thick saturated drawn out "MOMMY!"

That is when I had to pull out the big guns.  Yes, I did it.  I admit it.  I told my Daughter, if she kept up the tantrum she would go straight to bed when we got home. 

And fortunately for her, she backed off and retreated to the dreaded seat she didn't want to sit in and stuck with pouting.

For a while things were going pretty great!  But then again, I made tacos for Dinner.  And as I stated above, tacos are somehow a magical food that makes everyone happy!  Unless of course they are chicken tacos instead of beef, or I forgot to buy crunchy shells and we only have flour tortillas....

We even got through chores and bathtime unscathed.  I was also under the impression that all 4 of my little darlings went to bed with only a little bit of resistance. 

So, thinking I now had the freedom to chat on the phone uninterupted.  I called my Grandmother. 

But, being that the phone has some sort of magnetic pull.  A child found their way out of their bed, and downstairs.  No matter how hard Izzy tries, the phone is more powerful. 

Now, I had sent her to bed at least an hour earlier.  So, she should have already been asleep.  Instead, she was just a few feet from me, testing the waters.  She claimed she was thirsty, and had run out of water.  I had informed her that she has a bathroom with a faucet upstairs, she did not need to come downstairs (AN HOUR AFTER BEDTIME) for water.  She gasped and said "Do you really expect me to drink THAT water?  It's gross!".  I sighed, my Grandmother laughed out loud.  And I replied with "It's the same water you would get from the kitchen faucet.".  Her rebuttal "But I want cold water".  Which I countered with "well turn on the cold water instead of the hot water".  My Grandmother is really laughing now. 

After about a 2 minute standoff, Izzy finally heads back up to bed with no water from downstairs.  I had to fight this battle, otherwise it would have continued and festered into other battles of whit.

Tomorrow morning the battle continues, as Izzy will once again have tutoring and will be required to wake up at a reasonable hour.  I will get to hear how her friends are sleeping in, even the ones that are actually failing.  And I will again, dust off my inner wall and proceed with caution.

And to think, she has 3 younger siblings that will all go through puberty as well...

It's A Wonderful Day In The Neighborhood......

The Hubs' BRAND NEW car has been leaking oil.  I assumed it was just a loose bolt in the oil pan.  But I was wrong.

It took about a week to convince The Hubs that it was indeed his car that was leaving the oil puddle UNDER his car, in the garage.  He finally believed me. 

So, then we agreed.  He could drive the Swagger Wagon, while I took his car into the dealership to get looked at.

So, first thing this morning.  Ike and I were on our way!

We got the car to the dealership and settled nicely into the waiting room, where Ike was kind enough to point out everything that was wrong with the waiting room.  I ended up buying him a bag of doritos from the vending machine in an attempt to quiet him up a bit.  That was a fail.

After about 20 minutes, the supervisor came in.  He sat down next to me, and in a scene very much out of Grey's Anatomy, he gave me the bad news.

"Your car is not leaking oil, it's pouring oil!"

"I have never seen anything like this before, especially from a new car!"

I think this is where he realized that maybe he could have maybe, made it sound a lot less worse than it actually was.  The car was only 6 MONTHS old!

Truth is, it's a manufacturer's error.  Kind of like getting a pizza with a hair in it, or a toy that doesn't actually work.  Except in this case, the item in question is THOUSANDS of Dollars.  And Im left taking the shuttle home.

OF COURSE this is the day Izzy ends up in the nurses office with flu like symptoms, and a fever. 

And I have no car.  And a really hyper 4 year old.  And I live on the side of a very large steep hill. 

The info on the hill is pertinent.  Read on, to find out why!

Oh, and it helps to know I walk like Igor, and don't handle stepping up or down well......... 

So, it's off to find a friendly neighbor who is willing to drive me to the school to rescue Izzy.

Isn't that a lovely visual.  Igor at your doorstep with a tweaked up 4 year old.....  Joy!

And it's One, Two, Three Strikes........  Whew, someone is home and willing to drive me!  That's good, cause the hill was a bear, and I'm sure half the neighborhood is trying to figure out what is wrong with me......

We get to the school, and I sign Izzy out. And we head home.

From there, I have a whole bunch of busy work, that I have ignored for all too long. And it now needs to get done.

Then all of a sudden, the boys show up.  Somehow 10:30 turned into 2:30.  Oof!

So, I just keep trucking along, but now I'm kind of speeding.

Ill say this.  I kicked ass in the laundry department today!

Oh.  It's time for Jiu Jitsu. 

It's a good thing, it is not my night to drive. 

Because, I don't have a car!

So, off the boys go.  And I hunker back down into my Monday Manic Mojo.

The Hubs gets home, and this is where he drops the bomb.

He said, it didn't occur to him, until it was already too late.  But I could have used his Brother's Car.  Which is currently in our garage, while he is traveling................

DOH!

The good news is.  At least now I will remember.  But. Man Oh Man. That would have been a nice tidbit of info to remember at 1pm, when Im hoofing it up and down a crazy steep hill frantically trying to find a good neighbor, in an Igor like fashion. 

Once all of that was said and done.  I finished valentines'.  So my healthy kids can go to school and share in the exchange of High Fructose Corn Syrup and little pieces of paper I will be picking up until Easter......

Oh, Goody.  It's Snowing!......

Time Out has been a maximum capacity lately. 

I think it has to do with Spring Fever.

So, it has been decided that there will be mandatory park time after school, over the next few weeks. 

Ike in particular, has been quite squirrely.

In all honesty, the boy has been driving me bonkers.

Izzy, she too.  It's like all sense and practicality has escaped them both.

Yesterday, we hit Chernobyl level on the meltdown scale, all before 7 am...

It's only Wednesday. 

Alex is busy planning out his road to world domination....

We had to have a discussion in acceptable practices of interrogation. 

You know.  These are not things that are anticipated when you first realize you are creating life.  You are more worried about their poop and when it is safe to start them on solids.  Then your concerns move onto when the heck they are finally going to be potty trained. And then Kindergarten hits, and it is a bittersweet moment where you realize they are no longer your baby.  Around age 8, there personality really starts to set in, and you start to have flashbacks from your own childhood.  And the grief you caused your parents.  Then around 10 they start the process where they morph from child to unidentifiable living organism.  This is when fear starts to really kick in.  Because you don't know if your child will be sweet and loving, or out for blood.

Yesterday, Izzy left for school, and she was growling at me.  I was kind of dreading picking her up from school since I not only made her brush her hair twice, but then said she couldn't go home with her friend.  I figured 8 hours of festering resentment would make for a difficult evening.  Instead she got into the car and was like "Thank Goodness we are going home, I am BEAT".  I didn't question it, didn't want to run the risk of conjuring up the snarling Izzy I sent to school that morning.

What The.......?

So, I came home from a past due run to the office supply store, courtesy of Alex.

Much to my surprise, I encounter.......

Now.  I'm freaking out.

First.  Alex is allergic to EVERYTHING.

So, I'm scrambling to find the benadryl.

Then I think "Oh Shit, did this happen at the dojo? He needs antibiotic ointment!"

"Is it carpet burn?"

And then I am feeling guilty that maybe I hadn't noticed immediately, as I should have. 

Damn You Mommy Guilt!

And I am just going nuts trying to figure out what the heck is wrong with my son.

I start to feel the need to hop onto webmd and pre-diagnose before I psych myself into an ER trip to diagnose some horrific flesh eating bacteria.

And then I am trying to figure out how to spin this so his teacher doesn't call the authorities on me.  Im pretty sure "I have no clue as to why my son's face looks as it does, but I swear that I didn't beat him." Is not a good email to send.....

Slowly, this is really starting to perplex me.  And then I had a little mini flashback.....

Alex likes to suction his cup to his chin....  Just one of those goofy things kids do.

So, yes.  My son gave himself self a gigantic hickey on his chin...

I had to pay him $2.00 to get the pictures for this blog entry.