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Category Archives: thing 2

Are you drowning or waving?

I feel a lot like I’m drowning recently, but the title is a song lyric and has little to do with this post except that the following will be song lyrics that my kids butcher on a daily basis. They are quite hilarious.

Pumped Up Kicks” by Foster the People 

My kids sing: All you kids with the pop-tart kicks, you better run, better run faster than my mommy!

Actual lyrics: All the other kids with the pumped-up kicks better run, better run, faster than my bullet.

Colours” by Grouplove  

Kids: I am a man, man, man, man stuck up in the air, and I run around ’round ’round this down down and I don’t have no hair.

Actual lyrics: I am a man, man, man, man up, up in the air and I run around ’round ’round  ’round this town, town and act like I don’t care.

Wheel in the Sky” by Journey 

Kids: Oh the wheel in the sky is a’burning, I don’t know why it’s tomorrow.

Actual Lyrics: Oh, the wheel in the sky keeps on turning, I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow.

Telephone” by Lady Gaga

Kids: Stop calling, stop calling, I don’t wanna drink anymore, I left my head and my arm on the dance floor. Stop tele-funkin’ me.

Actual Lyrics: Stop calling, stop calling, I don’t wanna think anymore. I left my head and my heart on the dance floor. Stop telephoning me.

Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen 

Kids: How d’ya think I’m gonna get a log without you on my own? You took me for everything I said and kicked me outta my phone. Are ya happy? Are ya saggy fried?

Actual: How d’ya think I’m gonna get a long without you when you’re gone? You took me for everything that I had and kicked me out on my own. Are ya happy? Are ya satisfied?

Give up the Funk” by The Glee Cast 

Kids: We won’t do funk. Give us the funk. We peed on funk. Gotta have that punk. We gonna tear this mother, OW! We gonna tear this mother, OW! You gotta real type of crane, going down, getting down, there’s a whole lot of ribbon going ’round.

Actual Lyric: We want the funk, gotta have the funk, we need the funk, gotta have that funk. We gonna turn this mother out. We gonna turn this mother out. You gotta real type of thing, going down, getting down, there’s a whole lotta rhythm going ’round.

 

Sometimes I giggle, sometimes I have to make sure I’m singing it right.

*Note: Lady Gaga one may not be safe for work, just fyi.*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Mea Culpa

So this week came straight from the bowels of somewhere not nice and also unkind. Probably somewhere like hell, but also maybe somewhere like my worst enemies house. I’m not sure but it came in, slapped me, and then kicked me while I was down.

Yeah, it’s was that much fun.

Drama Queen (aka Thing 2) was sick all weekend but never got a fever, so I thought maybe it was just one of those late summer colds, which seem to last for weeks on end. Other than some coughing and a scratchy throat, though, she seemed totally fine. Until yesterday, after her first day back at Daycare after last week, when she was lethargic and kept complaining of a headache. I felt her forehead and realized she was burning up. One trip to the ER later, the diagnosis was pneumonia.

Crap.

Pneumonia sucks so hard because it can go from being “not a big deal” to a “freaking big deal” in a matter of a few days. Thankfully, we caught it early, which was good.

She’s on antibiotics with orders to stay home until Friday. Which means Mama is staying home with her, because Daddy gets to finally go back to work *hopefully*.

That was another thing this week, my husband, who works in the Natural Gas industry, basically hasn’t worked since last week. Most people would be like, “Yay! He got time off!” which I totally was. Until about Tuesday, then I started freaking because, see? My husband? Is paid by the hour, which means if he doesn’t work: No freaking paycheck. Talk about stressed out.

Maybe he’ll get some work before the end of the week, but it’s not looking too good.

Which just absolutely pisses me off to no end.

Then of course, there’s all the school work I’m having to do, which is totally fine and everything, I mean, I did sign up for it. But when you’ve got a sick kid at home, a husband not working and another kid starting Kindergarten and all the fun that is that, it starts to get a little much. 

I can totally do this, though, I think.

I also have to deal with a group project from hell, which should make for some interesting posts.

Today, though, something happened that made me want to punch someone. We drove by the school where Little Man (aka Thing 1) had to go for the Screening from Hell (which I promise to write about soon) and he says, “Do I ever have to go back there, Mama?” I told him, “No. You don’t” (which I totally meant). He said, “Good, because those people there? They made me feel stupid. They kept trying to get me to do things that I couldn’t do. I can do them now, Mama, I really can. I’m not stupid, right?”

I wanted to pull over, march over to the school and punch someone. Hard. Beneath the belt. Twice.

I was so upset that my son, who isn’t perfect, but also isn’t stupid, had to go through someone else making him feel inferior. It just made me want to scream.

I smiled at him in the rear-view mirror and said, “Honey, you are *so* not stupid. You are the smartest little boy I know, and sometimes I think you are even smarter than me.”

He smiled and said, “Thank you, Mama.”

Then his sister said, “Why’d you make him go there, Mama? Why did you do that?”

And I wanted to cry. Again.

UGH.

This week? Can totally kiss my butt, because I’m so over it.

In which the kid that DIDN’T get shots had a fit….and Mama almost lost her schmidt.

On Tuesday, I had to take the kids to get their dreaded shots for school. This is the worst thing in the world for me to have to do, especially alone. I absolutely loathe going, but understand that it’s something that has to be done.

Ugh.

I was prepared for each kid to get three shots (I know. Three is a lot. Ugh.) and I wasn’t doing very good at coping beforehand.

When we got there, the DR informed me that Thing 2 needed zero shots, but Thing 1 still needed three. I almost jumped for joy. Not because my poor little son had to get three shots but because the Drama Queen didn’t have to get any.

So, I promised Thing 1 that if he didn’t cry, and if he didn’t freak out, we’d stop by McCrackHouse [McDonald’s] afterwards and get him some apple dippers (the kid loves apple dippers). He did so great. He didn’t cry, he didn’t wince and he was so freaking brave. It was amazing.

That’s what apple dippers will do to the boy.

The DR gave both kids a sticker and Thing 1 a book, because he was the one that got the shots.

When we got to the front to get copies of the records, Thing 2? Lost her schmidt. She started screaming that she didn’t want shots and that she really, really, really wanted a book and MAMA! why are we still here?

She then plopped her butt down on the ground a refused to move.

I just stared at her. And counted to three. It didn’t work, so I counted to ten. Nope. (I was counting in my head to calm myself down)

I said to her, in my Mama’s Gonna Kick Some Butt voice, “Get up. Get up right. now.

She stood up and continued to bawl. at the top. of her lungs.

I was embarassed. I was angry. I was befuddled. Mostly, I was in a hurry to get the hell-o out of that place and speed away.

I’m not sure what her problem was, other than Thing 1 getting a book and her not getting one, which is not even a big deal.

All I know is that when I got into my vehicle and she finally stopped having a fit, I looked at her and said, “If you ever do that again, you will never go anywhere with me again. Ever.”

And then I called McHusband and informed him that next year? Shot duty is his.

One day…..(or Open Letter to my children)….

Dear My Children,

One day. Much Sooner than Mommy is comfortable with, you will leave the nest. I know. But, yes, it will happen.

Some day, you won’t find the sprinkler as awesome as you do today.

Now, back to you leaving me.

You know how much that’s going to hurt? A whole, whole lot. 

Mostly because I won’t know what to do with myself. Also, because, it might mean you moved out because you got married or something horrible like that. I mean, not that I don’t want you to get married, I just am not sure how ok I’ll be with it, then.

One day, your daddy will have to beat some boy away with a baseball bat. Mostly because you are absolutely beautiful. The most beautiful girl.

I mean, seriously. Your beautiful green eyes and wavy auburn hair will make boys swoon, but they need to beware, because if they break your heart, your daddy won’t be too happy about that.

I just have a small request for both of you. Really, really small request.

Please stop growing up so fast. 

I’m not sure what I’ll do when you’re gone.

Love,

Mama

Bubbles

Yeah, I know these were taken a month ago.

But they are still cute.

And, I don’t have much to say today.

That’s all I’ve got in me today.

Just Yesterday

“Mom?! Can we go over to her house?” Zach asks me, pointing at the next door neighbor’s daughter, who came over to play this morning.

I walk outside, looking for an adult to say “No” so I won’t have to, but the next door neighbor waves and smiles at me, “They can come over, it’ll be great!” he says.

I gulp.

Just yesterday, my beautiful babies were born. Just yesterday, they were dependent on me for everything. Just yesterday, they were taking their first steps.

Today, they are asking to go to someone else’s house. Already. We’re already at that point. What do I do with that? Today, they are five and four, and I’m not sure how to stop them from growing up.

Just yesterday, everything was further ahead. The running off to someone’s house, the “yeah, ok, Mom”, the independence.

Today, it’s all here, and I’m not sure what to do with that.

My husband thinks we should just have more babies, to fill the void. At some point, I can’t have any more babies. Plus, at twenty-four, I feel old. 

What happened to yesterday?

Heard in my House….

Thing 2: You aren’t my only brother.
Thing 1: Yes I am.
Me: Yes, he is, sweety.
Thing 2: Can we turn him in?
Me: Turn him in…..?
Thing 2: I want a different one.

Thing 1: Mommy, Thing 2 says you aren’t our Mommy.
Me (to The Husband): What is going on with her today? She keeps saying we’re not her family.
The Husband: I don’t know, have you talked to her?
Me: Thing 2, why do you want a different Mommy?
Thing 2: You aren’t nice. (giggling)
Thing 1 (looking up from his coloring): She’s not nice, she’s awesome!

Me: Thing 2, it’s time for bed.
Thing 2: Why?
Me: Well, because it’s dark.
Thing 2: Oh……I don’t want to.
Me: Tough, honey, it’s bedtime.
Thing 2: Ok.
(30 minutes later)….Me (to my mom, on the phone): I’m not really sleepy……
Thing 2 (yelling, from her room): Tough, honey, it’s bedtime!