"Dress up days" at school

You know the drill... it's the last week before school is released for a break, so the school pretty much throws those days away.  "Color Day" "Superhero Day" "Crazy Hair Day" "Neon Day" etc

Today the Boy child had "Pajama Day"

Ah yes, the mainstay of Spirit Weeks around the country.  Party theme extraordinaire.

My son does not understand that pajama day means "Wear your coolest pajamas"

This morning was a 40 minute battle to get him to wear pajamas.  He insists that it is "What you wear to bed" day.  Therefore, he felt that he should wear basketball shorts (against dress code at school and not acceptable to our house rules) and a tank top (also against dress code and house rules)

Yet, he argued, "THAT'S WHAT I WEAR FOR PAJAMAS!"

Our explanation that "Pajamas" are listed on the labels of many pajamas.  It actually says "Pajamas" on the tag

Parents often sleep in undies.  Would they go to a pajama party just in undies? (shhh.  He doesn't know that, you cheeky monkey)

People wear pajamas to Wal-Mart.

Remember when you went to Aunty Prune's house to spend the night with your cousins, and you insisted that I go BUY you pajamas?  That was 3 weeks ago.  You loved those pajamas.  Wear those pajamas.

Oh no.

So- eventually he ended up wearing the pajamas from Aunty's house. After 40 MINUTES of arguing, rolling on the floor crying, standing up and giving the evil mad face.

Children- good times, good times...

The Waste Basket

Got up at 6:00 this morning to explain to the boy child how his behasvior the night before was not acceptable.  I was at work, but it ended up with him going to bed without dinner because he sassed back to his mom.

I had made a list of things for him to do, prior to going to work and he blew it off.

SO- one of the things was his usual Wednesday night chore of emptying the waste baskets.  A perfectly reasonable chore for an (almost) 11 year old boy.

You all know the struggles with the waste basket.

"Can I take the trash out now?"
"Did you finish the waste baskets?"
"Yes"
"Did you get the one in the laundry room?"
"No"
"Did you get the one at the tech center?"
"NO, but that's the hardest ONE!"

Yes, people.  There is a waste basket in the house which is difficult.

A waste basket.  This is a woven basket with an open top.  Into which persons walking by, toss trash.

There is not a secret code which must be entered to insert or remove the waste.

A drop of blood from a newborn lamb is not required to be placed into a port in order to open the waste basket.

The president's fingerprint is not required to open the waste basket.

Ahhhh good times.

Some days RULE!

Way to turn it around!

Girl Child: "Do you know where my blue pencil is?"
Boy Child: "Nope"
GC: "I left it on the counter when music lessons started and it's not there"
BC: "Nope. I don't know where it is"

---Girl child searching for 5 minutes under couches, in cushions, etc etc---

BC: "Oh, I think it might have fallen into my backpack"
GC: "UGH!  Well can I have it back please?"
BC: "I think it's in my desk"
GC: "UGH!"
BC: "FINE!  IM SO SORRY FOR RUINING YOUR ENTIRE LIFE!  JEEZ!  I MEAN, IT'S JUST A PENCIL!  I GUESS I SHOULD JUST GO LIVE SOMEWHERE ELSE!  FINE, YOU HATE ME!  I GET IT!"

Little punk.  Way to turn it around and blame her.

I also, in following up on this discussion, said it's "on" his desk which he vehemently denied.
BC: "No it's not.  It is not on my desk, I swear! "
Me: "Oh, I thought you said it was on your desk at school?"
BC: "No, I NEVER SAID THAT!"
GC: "Dad, he said it was in his desk, not on his desk"
Me: "You. Have. GOT. To. Be. Kidding. Me."

Hello Officer!

The boy child was roaming the neighborhood with one of his buddies when they found a 20 month old little boy wandering the neighborhood.  They collected him and called the police.

The little boy cried every time the police came to take him from the Boy child, so the cops decided he should hold him until they found mom and dad, which was shortly thereafter.

Officer Anderson brought him home in the police car and wanted to let us know what a little hero the boy child was.

Way to go Boy Child!

(I would have put more enthusiasm into the post, but I have just barely managed to keep from taking all his possessions away again this morning due to a failure to cooperate, so...)

Some Weekends Rule

This 3-day weekend was quite possibly the best weekend in recorded human history.  True Fact.

Friday after work, the family headed to my parents' home where my sister and her family were in town from Portland.  The 4 grandkids got to sleep out in a tent and the adults all played cards till 1:00 in the morning.

Pretty awesome on the awesome scale.

Saturday morning I got up at 7:00 and went to "Market on the Move" where they "rescue" food from the inevitable trashcan.  No-- I wasn't dumpster diving.  If produce is picked in a field- say- a cucumber.  But the workers pack them in Tomato boxes.  Nothing is wron with the food- it's just in the wrong box.  Grocery stores will reject the food. So rather than simply tossing SEMI TRUCKS of food in the landfill, they donate the food to Market on the Move.  For $10, Market on the Move will let you choose 60 POUNDS of vegetables and fruit.

Pretty awesome, right?

I returned to my parents' place and everyone was eating bacon and eggs and PECAN PIE for breakfast.

No arguing that is pretty awesome.

Sat and chatted, then played cards some more.

Packed up and headed home- then visited with our friends who are moving to Tennessee next week.

Got home and set up Netflix to watch Ferris Beuler's Day Off with the children- fell asleep laying on the floor while the children quoted the movie.

Pretty awesome!

Sunday morning- brewed beer with my dad who has now caught the homebrewing bug. He brought over bagels and deli meat.

AWESOME!

The wife went to a "Beer Brunch" with 20 other gals with the "Arizona Girls Pint Out" group, THEN went to see Fast and Furious with a friend.

Pure awesome.

I went to work and worked at a 40th birthday party where I got to play with Dry Ice. Made a graet party happen for some nice people till like... midnight. Got a $100 tip.

Not. Too. Shabby.

Got up in the morning, took the kids to Aunt Pat's house where they helped her tidy up the place, do some light yard work, and got to drive the golf cart :)

Wife and I went golfing, where I hit a golf ball into a lake. But WAIT!  It skipped across the water and landed on the 18th green.

AWESOME!

Went to retrieve the kids and eat brats and swim at Aunt Pat's house.

RIGHTEOUS!

Realized that there was a late baseball game and took the boy child to experience it.  The game started at 6:40. This means it will end some time in the 10:00 hour- 2 hours past his normal bed time.  This is a bit scary.

I bought 2 cheap seats from a scalper for $10 each.  Traded them to another scalper with a $20 bill and got AWESOME seats in the lower level.  Then while the boy and I wandered the stadium, we held the door open for a family (the parents were struggling with an infant and a toddler...) The man said "Wow- that was really nice!  Want an upgrade in your seats?" we were now sitting in the 3rd row behind the dugout, directly even with 1st base. There was an open seat in the front row and the Boy Child got to hang out there with a couple of 14 or 15 year old boys who graciously explained everything happening on the field to him. (You know how 10 year old boys like being entertained by older boys- so adorable)

At the end of the game, one of the players threw 4 game used batting gloves to the Boy Child.  The boy then threw his glove in the dugout and the player signed it, and threw it back with a game-played baseball in it. Boy child saw a little boy who looked like he could use a souvenir so he gave the other kid a batting glove.

I mean seriously, I challenge anyone to beat that weekend.

Signing off from a happy place-
Andrew

Hilarious

So a friend who also works with me just sat here and we exchanged "little boy" stories.

Apparently, this behavior is never going to end, considering the behavior or her boyfriend ;)

------

Last night the Boy Child comes home from school, nonchalantly skipping in... "Hi Dad!"

Now, this in itself, though refreshing, is a boy who has basically been grounded for a month.

It IS the 2nd to the last day of school, so I guess I get it-  So I ask the Boy, "Boy- do you have any homework? Any missing assignments to finish?  Any in-class work you have to complete at home?"

Because, of course, if I didn't ask all 3 of those questions, the assignment would have been overlooked as "WELL YOU DIDN'T ASK ME! It wasn't HOMEWORK! UUUUGhhhhh..."

The reply is "Yes, I found out that I have one missing assignment and my teacher said that if I turn it in I can still get credit.  She said she would be at school until 4:00 today"

So, it's now 3:40.  I have 20 minutes to get it delivered back to school.  Marvelous.

I say "OK, well you better get going and finish it then"
Boy: "Yep."
He then proceeds to go to the kitchen
Me: "Where are you going?"
Boy: "To get a snack. I'm hungry."
Me: "BOY!  We have 10 minutes for you to find and finish the missing assignment!  You don't have TIME for a snack right now!"






Boy: "But I'm hungry."

The pain of learning something new

This morning the boy child wanted to make his own breakfast. So scrambled eggs it was.

I am a sunny side up guy, but he sees mommy make scrambled eggs all the time. Whereas I scramble the eggs in a bowl then put them in the pan, mommy cracks the eggs into the pan and scrambled them in the pan.

As I see it,  all this does is serve to remove the butter from the bottom of the pan, and allowing the eggs to stock and consequently burn.

Mid - egg cooking,  the boy, ON HIS OWN ACCORD,  decided to take out the trash. And since it is Thursday he also dragged the trash can to the curb. This is A WIN, right!?

Well it's a win for the ongoing trash struggle,  not so much for the eggs.

The eggs were overcooked to a very high degree. I outlined what we learned today and put salsa on the eggs.

Delish!

To sum it up - pre scramble your eggs and do NOT constantly air them in the pan,  and do not walk away from food cooking on the stove.

Happy Trash Day my friends!

Oh,  the pain part? Yeah,  he closed the cheese drawer on his thumb and there was a complete freak out and very much crying . Who knew a little plastic drawer could cause so much pain?! And got raw egg on his shirt. So he had to change. In doing so,  the collar of the shirt scratched his eye. More crying and freaking out. Yes. This is the way it goes.

If at first you don't succeed-

After our removal if items from the boys room on Tuesday, one would imagine he would shape up.

Not so much.

Friday - "Do you have any homework?"
Nope!

That's standard for a Friday though, so it wasn't unusual.

Then- this morning, Mother' Day morning, Wife says "How is that report of yours coming?" 

He head drops, eyes looking at the floor.

His teacher said he did not try and needs to add at least 2 more paragraphs.  Of COURSE, he didn't bring any of his notes home, so he has to do the research to do 2 more paragraphs. 

We arranged a study area so the rest of the family could continue about our day while he works on his project.

Every 10 minutes, he needs something- an eraser, a glass of water, "I'm hungry", bathroom, etc etc

During a break, I go to check the history on the netbook where he was "doing research"...

I think you can probably guess the result.  You tube videos of Lego Star Wars.

Suddenly, he feels sick to his stomach and feels like he needs to throw up.

Suddenly, I decide that I will now remove all choice in his wardrobe and sleeping space. He has 3, blue shirts and 3 gray shorts, one pair of shoes.  In bed- one pillow, one sheet, one blanket.  No extra pillows, no extra blankets, no stuffed animals. I took the posters off the wall, took the amp for his guitar (I did leave the guitar...) removed the extra dresser he didn't need (since the clothes were gone) and the black cushiony chair. 

Apparently we ease up too fast.  So this week we need to focus on relentlessly trying to keep the boy on task.

He says "I'm an idiot!"  of course we say "No, you have the mental capacity to do whatever you want. You make personal decisions to avoid hard work. That's not being an idiot.  It's making a choice."

So- Happy Mother's Day, all you moms out there!

Birthday Party

My birthday was Saturday.  I worked from 6 AM to 12:45 AM.

Sunday, my sweet sweet wife threw a party for me.  I asked the girl child to please grab a piece of paper and tell people "please come in" because we didn't want to worry about the doorbell and all.

This was the result:

Because she doesn't mess around.

Good things

To be fair, I neglected to post about 3 weeks ago when we were being treated to several days of the boy child being an absolute angel.  He helped with chores, helped his sister with homework. It was a fantastic and magical time.  And he deserved the credit which I gave him, but should have shared with you all.

Because- Some Days Rule!

Oh joy.

So, after struggling with missing assignments and hidden "reflection papers" which are what happens when you act up in school LAST week, we get an email from the teacher today about a problem on Friday.

Called another student a "Bitch", apparently.

HOWEVER, he decides that he needs to write a reflection paper about calling someone "the A word"

SO- which was it?

After having what seemed to be an upward trend in making good decisions, the last 2 weeks have been the opposite, obviously.

Since I have committed myself to not YELLING at the child, I calmly discussed with him that he is on grounding until the end of the school year (3 weeks) and that he can earn back privileges. Like clothes.

I chose 5 outfits for the boy- collared polo shirts and nice shorts.  These are his school clothes.  I also chose 4 school spirit shirts which are his play clothes.  The rest are put away.  Along with all his toys, electronics, etc.

Do you have a creative way to let your child know that his behavior will have consequences?  Or have you seen someone else who appears to do well in this regard?  It's tough for us because the girl child does not have these issues, and we are trying so hard to support the boy child.

Recycle bin- not put out, still on the street after I put it out.

What is a definition?

"Son, these jeans are blue"
"No they're NOT!"

This is the fashion equivalent of trying to tell your son that his actions are selfish.
"No they're NOT!"

So when the child will not listen to calm explanations and  you are at the end of your rope, what do you do?  If you're lucky like me- you have tag out and let your partner take over.  Thus producing less RAGE.

The boy child was bugging his sister while she was tidying up the bathroom.  Wife and I could tell because of the noises they were making, becoming slowly though increasingly adversarial.

I attempted to head off the fight at the pass, by instructing the Boy Child to sit at the table with us while I worked and Bonnie Facebooked or something. 

My generously submitted advice was not readily accepted.

Instead, there was flopping on the inflatable bed set up in the living room (another story) and grunts and general malcontent.

"I wasn't even DOING anything and you made me come out here!  That's not FAIR!"
"Well son, what I HEARD was that you and your sister were ABOUT to start fighting, so rather than let that happen, I thought you should come out here while she finished picking up"
"We were NOT going to fight!  GOD!  You guys HATE ME!"
"Well son, we love you."
"Then why are you always YELLING at me?!?!"
"Brady, we didn't yell once.  I'm not even yelling now.  I'm telling you that I asked you to come out here to keep the peace."
"Keep the PEACE? Then why are you always YELLING?!?!?"
"Well I'm not yelling, I haven't yelled, but if you keep this attitude up I WILL start yelling."
"See- you all HATE ME"
"OK son, bed time.  It's almost bedtime and you're tired.  So go to bed before this gets any deeper!"
--sob sob sob--- stomp stomp stomp--- saying shit under his breath from his room----

Also during this evening after the bathroom issue with his sister, he decides that he will just go and SIT in the bathroom. Lights off.  Just sit.  When we say "come out of the bathroom, it's not a play area" we are yelling at him again.

So- let's talk about this whole "definition" thing again.

"It's not a play area"
"All I'm doing is sitting"
"OK, it's not a sitting area. There are germs on the toilet.  You can sit in your room, or on the couch, or someplace else.  It's Not. A. Sitting. Area."
"Yes it is"

GAAAAAHHHH!!!!

Ah, good times.

BUT WAIT!  THERE'S MORE!

Now the girl child decides that these flying massive mosquito looking like things are going to fly into her mouth while she's asleep and she can't sleep in her room. And- sobbing. No amount of research on the google, or reassurances that they don't want anything to do with her, will convince her that she will live through the night. This is the end of her life- cut short by a 2 gram flying insect.

The boy child gets wind of this and now suddenly he can't sleep in his room either.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!??!?

Yes, I realize that for him it's a power play to sleep in the living room.  Despite my assurances that the OPEN DOORS in the living room mean MORE chance for these things to fly in, he was convinced that he could not possibly sleep in his room.

Of course.

So, mommy finally worked it out with him, partly by doing a "sweep" of the room to ensure that no flying bugs were actually IN his room, and by a sly comment "your dad is about to lose his shit- you better go to sleep now"

Whatevz.  Just goes to show ya-

Oh I have no idea what it goes to show you.  Just go to bed, dammit.

Not too shabby

Today was a good day.

Last night, I came home from a grueling work day at 11:30 PM and the trash can was already at the curb.  OK- that doesn't count as today, but it certainly made this morning easier.

The girl child made omelettes in her new Tupperware microwave omelette maker.  This product it stupid.  It's an oval bowl with a lid.  HOWEVER- the girl is thrilled, and I ate breakfast without having to make it.

Only one teeny snip-snip argument between the children before school.

The boy called me when he got home from work- he beat me by about 15 minutes.  He asked if his friend could come over, and I said Yes.  This involves me going to pick the friend up and deliver him home later, and it doesn't happen often.  BUT- he did get up early and pick up his room, and he's asked every day. The condition is- chores have to be done first.

While on the phone, he checked and chores for him today were bring the trash can in from the curb and empty the dishwasher. 

Driving down the street, the trash can was still out.

I went in- the dishwasher was not opened.

SO- I told the boy I was going to take a quick nap until he was done.

I slept for an hour.  The chores did not get done at all.

No yelling, no nothing- at 5:30 the boy asked if his friend could come over.  Well- this doesn't work when I would be driving the friend home at 6:30, AND- chores still weren't done.

It all worked out ok, and there ya go.

The girl child announced that she got second chair in orchestra, which is a big deal.  She even played with a left hand index finger injury (from making dinner a couple nights before.  Our knives are really sharp)

We all emptied out the refrigerator this evening, talking about food safety and leftovers ;)

That wraps it up.  Nice day- and a nap!

Siblings

So- I do not want to set up a deeper rivalry between my children than would naturally exist.

AND I struggle to be fair.

When the boy asks to go to a friend's house with 2 other boys, I say "Call me when you get there"  He forgets, but does eventually call.  I say "Be home by 6:30 and call before you leave <friend's> house" 

At 6:38 I call another one of the boys' cell phone, and say "Can I talk to Brady?" "Oh, he's not here" So I go to the park and there he is.  Without shoes.  He hasn't called, he hasn't checked in, and he has no shoes on.

So, I ask him why I would be upset, after explaining these 3 points to him.  He replies "Because I didn't do what I was supposed to do"

Well- good enough.  So you can go to your room for the rest of the evening with no ipod.

Keep in mind, I alkso asked him if his chores were done, to which he said yes. So we walked over and LOW and BEHOLD, no- not done.  Trash not taken out, of course.

Contrast that with the girl who asks me before school "Can I sweep the floor after breakfast so I don't have to do it after school?" and empties the dish washer without being asked.  Who gets straight A's and is completely responsible.

HOW do I, from the Boy's perspective, not be "Nicer" to her?  I mean- I have no REASON to say anything buy "yes" when she asks for permission to do something, yet it's really like the Spanish Inquisition when he asks to go to a friend's house, then he still doesn't handle it right and he gets in trouble.

I see where he's coming from, but I also don't feel like I'm being extra tough on him.

What's a dad to do...

Deep Thoughts

Sometimes, I think to myself... "Why are you so stupid?"  Then I say GrumbleGrumbleGrumble

Looking back at the last day, I get this concept.

The chore chart has been a miserable failure.  MOSTLY because we, as the parents, allow it to be so.  The boy doesn't LIIIIIIIIKE doing the dishwasher. He doesn't LIIIIIIIIKE sweeping and mopping the floor.  He doesn't LIIIIIIIKE emptying the waste baskets... so instead of fighting every non-GodDamn day with the child, we too often choose the path of least resistance. 

Last night, I wasn't feeling well, and wifey was at the P!nk concert.

It is trash day on Thursday, and the chore chart has the Boy Child emptying the waste baskets on Wednesday night. 

He does not like this.  At all. 
He doesn't want to do it. 
He's too tired. 
He's doing something else right now. 
He wants to do it in 5 minutes. 
He's getting his backpack together for school tomorrow.
He's in the middle of brushing his teeth.
Can he have a Popsicle first?

Yes, all of those, in a row, within 5 minutes.

Then, the waste basket emptying begins.  He goes to get the first basket.  I say "Son, what are you doing?" he replies "Going to get the waste basket"  I say "Son, why don't you get a trash bag and take it with you and empty the waste baskets into the bag, rather than making 2 trips for every waste basket?"  he replies "FIIIIIIIIINE!"

Now, I realize that you folks may think this conversation is a bit odd- with me using the term "Waste basket" so often. Is it because it's difficult to convert the spoken word and conversation into the written word?  No, that's not why.  It's because if I don't use THE CORRECT TERM, SPECIFICALLY, EVERY SENTENCE, the Boy Child will get distracted and lost, and think I'm suddenly instructing him to climb on top of his bed and dust the fan blades or something.  So I HAVE to use the term "Waste Basket" over and over and over.  It's not only annoying to type, it's also quite annoying to SAY that many times in a 10 minute period of time.

So- back to the story-

He gets the white, drawstring kitchen trash bag.  A New one.  Of course, since in the Boy Child's mind there is only ONE way to open a trash bag, he proceeds to do the Shake Shake Shake method
Over
and Over
and Over
and Over
and Over
and Over
and Over

You get the point.  It doesn't work, unless you first PULL the bag open slightly to allow air to get into the bag. So, amongst the rattling and shaking, I call to the Boy- "Son" "Yeah?" "Did you try pulling the bag open a little first?" "UUUGGGHHHHH! JEEZ!"

stomp stomp stomp

He heads to the first wast basket.  Now- I did not tell him which waste basket to empty first.  I did not specify any relative level of importance to the waste baskets.  I did not even tell him WHICH waste baskets to empty- just "Go empty the waste baskets"

stomp stomp stomp

Heading to his sister's room, I hear the Boy child climbing around the chairs and whatnot, getting to the basket.  Shake, grunt, "JEEZ!", climb, stomp, SMACK!

Cry cry cry

He turned around and ran into the door. 

That the Boy child accomplished this on his own, is indisputable.  The girl child was sitting on the couch next to me the entire time, reading her book.  I was lying down on the couch.  The DOG was on the couch.

cry cry cry... come around the corner "JEEZ, MAGGIE!"

me: "What happened?"
Boy: "Maggie's door hit me!"
me: "Let me see it, son"
me: "Ok, it looks fine.  Now what happened, again?"
Boy: "I got the trash and I was leaving her room and MAGGIE's door HIT me! Thanks a LOT Maggie!"
me: "Do you really think this is Maggie's fault?"
Boy: "YES!  If her door hadn't hit me!..."
me: "Ok, then. Go get the next trash can.  WAIT!  Waste basket."

The trash collection proceeded.  When the Boy announced his GLORIOUS completion of the task, then, this:

me: "OK son, well done.  Can you please tell me exactly which trash cans you emptied?"
Boy: "Maggiesyoursmommysmine"
me: "Ok son, can you now slowly tell me which trash cans you emptied?"
Boy: "MAGgie's, YOUr... OH dangit!  I forgot your bathroom"
---makes a scene collecting the trash bag and DRAGGING it to my bathroom---
me: "Thank you, son.  Now- Maggie's, mine, my bathroom.  Did you get your bathroom?"
Boy: "UHHHHH! No"

--- quickly gets it done---
me: "Did you get the office?"
Boy: "UUGH!  I have to do THAT one, TOOOO?!?!?"
me: "Well, son, if it's a waste basket- then yes.  ALL the waste baskets."
Boy: "But mommy emptied it on Saturday!"
me: "And it has been used and there is new trash in it, so please go get it"
Boy "UGH!  FINE!"

What you don't realize is that the office isn't upstairs, through the secret panic room door, over a 6' wall, and through the pit of nails.

The office door is the door that the Boy is LEANING ON.

RIGHT.

THERE.

BEHIND.

HIM.

Ahhh good times.

We had a successful waste basket collection.

Boy: "Dad?"
me: "Yes, son?"
Boy: "Do I HAVE to take teh trash bag out to the trash can?  Cuz it's dark out, and I don't like..."
me: "No, you can take it tomorrow morning when you take the trash can to the curb."

So- in the morning- he takes out the wastebasket trash bag to the trash can outside.

And despite mentioning at LEAST 5 times "Take the trash can to the curb" in the morning,

No.  Trash can did not get picked up this week.

Good times, people.  Good times.

Poking the Bear

My wife was in the shower and I said "Hey, wait, we made it through terrible Tuesday!  Way to go, us!"
She replied with "Why was Tuesday so terrible?"
I said "Because you and I both had gigs at night, the kids started back to school, we had all that other... well just because.  Congrats us!"
Her reply "Sure"
Her next reply "Oh, that makes today hump day" ;)

Not 3 seconds later came the wails from the kitchen- the children, after having woken up and showered and gotten dressed, decided that play nice time was over.

There were shouts of "He slammed the refrigerator door on me" "Well she slammed it open on ME!"

"OH MY GOD, BRADY!" "Well there are 2 other seats at the table, you don't have to sit at that one" "DAAAAAAAAAAAAAD! BRADY WON'T MOVE HIS LUNCH!"

Here were a couple of my brilliant solutions:
A) You will both sit on the tile floor and eat your breakfast, if you can't sit at the table together.  And I already gave you enough chances.
B) You will use the most sickeningly sweet voice with each other for the rest of the day. If I hear one bit less than SUPER nice, including not only words but also inflection, you will be grounded. Both of you. Together.  And I will make you watch the movie of MY choice, sitting next to each other on HALF of the couch.

I think it's pretty freakin smart.  The eat breakfast while sitting on the floor was simply genius.

The wife says "See what happens when you congratulate yourself for getting through terrible Tuesday?"

These, are the Holidays, of our lives

Yes, I grew up watching Days of our Lives.  Grandma watched it, my mom watched it.  And now, I pay it homage in the title of a blog.

Full circle, people. Full  Circle.

The holidays are a time of stress and disappointment.  Don't kid yourselves.

Let's talk about what happened with the Boy child.

Everyone knows about his obsession with his pants.  My solution was- overwhelm him with options, and he won't be so OCD.  IF he has 8 pairs of pants, he won't be so prone to always wanting to wear the 1 out of 4.  Does this make any sense?  I thought it did, but now it absolutely doesn't.  Sad news.

ANYways- I bought him 5 new pairs of pants.

All the wrong size.

So he opened the pants on Christmas morning and of course wanted to wear them immediately. This became a "I'll return them and get the right size" battle.  He didn't care if they didn't fit, he wanted to wear them THIS MINUTE! 

I succumbed and told him he could pick out one pair and wear those.  Then I would return the others and get the right size.

All has worked out- the last 2 pair were from Target and I returned them then gave him the gift card.  We went and picked out 2 new pairs last night.  MAROON (not burgundy.  Don't call them burgundy.  It says MAROON) and dirty blue CORDUROY pants.

Man, back in the Days of our Lives times, I hated corduroys. Man I really avoided them as much as possible.  But if that's what I had, that's what I wore.  Now the boy CHOOSES cords. 

Full Circle people, full circle.