Where did I go wrong?

25Aug2008 Filed under: blah-blah-blog

Whine. Gripe. Moan. Complain. Weep. Gnash teeth. (Repeat)

At what point, and how, did I teach my kids that these were acceptable responses to requests such as “Eat your beef stroganoff” or “Unload the dishwasher”??? Because they seem to be pretty convinced that it’s the only way to respond to something they don’t like.

I must’ve missed the memo that today was Complaining Day. Living with Zach today has been like living with Eeyore, squared. I am sooooo tired of it.

I remind them that they don’t always get their favorites for dinner, that starving kids around the world would be grateful for something that good to eat, that all of us have to help out for our household to run smoothly. All of this falls on deaf ears.

Most of the time my boys are pretty good, but when they get on these whining kicks, I want to buy them a one-way ticket to Siberia.

Life with Boys

23Aug2008 Filed under: blah-blah-blog

The other night, I’d just finished reading the kids a story in my bed, when Zach started giggling. He asked if I’d noticed anything different in my bedroom. Judging by the mischevious expressions on both kids’ faces, I knew they’d been up to something.

I told him that I hadn’t, at which time he lifted my pillow and showed me this:

And I screamed, because I don’t like bugs and it didn’t immediately register that it was a plastic spider. The boys laughed until they cried.

Fast-forward two days, to yesterday, when I went to change the sheets. I picked up my pillow, and…

Yes, this time it was a plastic mouse and I couldn’t help cracking up. I don’t know what was funnier: their being sophisticated enough to pull pranks on their old ma, or the fact that I sleep so soundly that I never noticed (twice, mind you!) a hard plastic animal underneath my pillow!

Guess who’s NOT getting any new creepy creatures for Halloween this year???

Stop the car!

20Aug2008 Filed under: blah-blah-blog

Donnie climbed back into bed with me this morning and grinning broadly, said, “Happy 40th Birthday Eve.”

Smarty-pants. He’s lucky I didn’t smack him.

I grimaced, moaned, and rolled back over. “Don’t remind me. I already feel like I’m dragging my feet in my Flintstone-mobile but the brakes just aren’t working.”

Waaaaaaaaaahhhh!

Eli’s newest creation

19Aug2008 Filed under: blah-blah-blog, Moments with Eli

Introducing the FC 60!

I have no idea what FC 60 stands for, and neither does Eli. He just thought it sounded cool.

We’ve officially started back with homeschooling now. Zach got to go on a field trip today, so Eli and I decided to have some fun. We watched a couple of educational shows, and in one of them, these kids built “robots” out of household stuff. So, Eli and I made a racing robot. He gathered all the parts; I helped with putting it together. The crumpled paper is the brain. The eyes are supposed to look like binoculars, and the mouth is a straight line because, as he said, robots don’t smile.

And, here is my little goofball, posing with his creation. He is acting like a robot:

Speaking of robots, does anyone else have an older relative who pronounces the word “RO-but”? Both my and Donnie’s grandfathers said “robot” that way. Just wondering….

The Bathroom Door is Closed

18Aug2008 Filed under: blah-blah-blog

I didn’t write this…my friend Gina sent it to me, and it was too funny not to share!

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

ATTENTION CHILDREN: The Bathroom Door is Closed.

Please do not stand here and talk, whine, or ask questions. Wait until I get
out.

Yes, it is locked. I want it that way. It is not broken, I am not trapped. I
know I have left it unlocked, and even open at times, since you were born,
because I was afraid some horrible tragedy might occur while I was in here,
but it’s been 10 years and I want some PRIVACY.

Do not ask me how long I will be. I will come out when I am done.

Do not bring the phone to the bathroom door.

Do not go running back to the phone yelling, “She’s in the BATHROOM!”

Do not begin to fight as soon as I go in.

Do not stick your little fingers under the door and wiggle them. This was
funny when you were two, but not now.

Do not slide pennies, Legos, or notes under the door. Even when you were two
this got a little tiresome.

If you have followed me down the hall talking, and are still talking as you
face this closed door, please turn around, walk away, and wait for me in
another room. I will be glad to listen to you when I am done.

And yes, I still love you.

(signed)
Mom