Work at Home Mom Wins House Battle!

My family suffers from delusion. Even though every two weeks I bring home a paycheck, I don't actually work. Or at least that is what they think. Why? Because I work in my pj's and mostly when they are sleeping. Except on weekends. Then I am a slave to my PC and my phone. This however, does not impress them. They know that I get paid for sitting in my cave, but they do not view this as work because I do not leave the house. That whole out of sight, out of mind concept I guess. Therefore, all the responsibility of house stuff still falls to me. I still have to drive the taxi, grocery shop, pay bills and my all-time favorite, do laundry. Yep, I am supermom-hear me complain. Or roar-whatever you would like to call it. Regardless, I am the CEO of this little enterprise. And it is kicking my butt. But my mantra is I will win and I do. Somehow, someway. This is where my creativity usually helps me out.
Since the laundry fairy never quite materializes, the laundry is always just short of taking over my kitchen. If this happens, I would lose my premier spot for cooking my gourmet mac n' cheese and nuked mini corn dogs. I cannot let this happen. My children's survival is at stake.
So being the creative, overwhelmed, and overworked mom that I am, I always have a plan. Or at least the glimmer of one. By sheer necessity, I introduced my plan over the Christmas break quite by accident. Basically, I was desperate and tired of looking at the mess. Thus, the "everyone does their share" campaign was enacted. This is my nice way of saying, get off your butt and do some work around here or else you will pay. Enough said.
Back to my "everyone does their share" campaign.
Since guilt and empathy clearly do not work, I am astute enough to realize that I only have one chance to do this right, or it will not work. So, with everyone complaining that they had no clean clothes, I was forced to act. Conquering the laundry was my first strategy.
Generally, the laundry sits on my couch waiting to magically be folded and placed lovingly back into its correct spot. Yeah. This takes me awhile to get to, so we usually just rifle through for what we need. Actually putting the mountain 0' laundry away takes about four hours of continuous folding and I only get anal about that during hurricane season. Soo....needing a change in laundry accumulation/distribution, I continued on my quest.
Since the kids are home and 1)driving me crazy, 2) making considerable amounts of noise because we are home, I am working and they are bored and 3)fighting over silly stuff because they are bored, I gave them the task of folding the laundry and putting their own clothes away. And guess what? They actually did it! And they didn't really complain too much. There was a movie playing in the background so that helped to ease the pain I guess. On my break, I ventured out into the living room expecting to see the pile of clothes still sitting there and miracle upon miracle, they were gone. I swear I heard angels singing!
Yes! Mom wins again. Since I was working the greater part of the day, I would venture out from my cave on breaks and have Monkeyboy unload the dryer. I would then reload the dryer and put in a new load to wash. This went on all day. It was beautiful! By the end of the day, the remaining laundry was actually able to fit into the six laundry baskets we have, thus saving my kitchen. Only once did things get a bit crazy, when they were doing the socks. They were flinging them across the room into the basket and some ended up hitting the ceiling fan. Whatever. I left my cave because they were rather loudly, giggling and laughing like hyenas, threatened bodily harm if they did not quiet down, retrieved the hanging socks from the fan and went back to work, smiling all the way. One less chore off my list. Whooo!!!! How awesome am I?
Capitalizing on this new found power, I jumped into full mommy mode. I had them clean their room and sweep the living room floor. They even vacuumed. Now, there was quite a bit of complaining on the clean your room chore because Mini Me is quite the slacker when it comes to cleaning up his mess. However, I fixed that by threatening to take his Lego's away for two weeks. He cannot go cold turkey, so he grudgingly went to work. Score another one for mom. They actually cleaned up their room. Not perfectly, but better than it was.
Now that I have achieved this small measure of success, I am not letting it go. The mess is their stuff-toys, shoes and little pieces of cut up paper. Mike's stuff is also laying around. Now, I just need a get off your butt campaign for him and my wheel will be turning smoothly.
Maybe homeschooling is good right? Then they can clean the house for me. I can work more hours because I don't have to schlep little people around and my house gets cleaned. A win-win for all of us. We have money, the children get educated and the house is clean. Hmmm....there might be something to this.
Do you work from home? How do you achieve work/home balance? I am open to ideas, as this is a big struggle for my family. Leave your suggestions in the comments field. Trust me, I need all the help I can get!

Bring on 2009

With the holiday rush over, now comes the slower, more sane time for my family. As much as I love the holidays, I love from January to June more, because this time span usually advances at a very slow pace. At least for me. My speed. Slow and easy. We spend more time together as a family, we are settled into our routine and we spend a bit more time outdoors because the weather is cooler. Somewhat. For Florida.
So, with 2009 rapidly approaching, I have been doing some thinking. Yep, some of the hamsters have had to be bribed with cheese, but they are making that wheel spin. See, I usually list all my "resolutions" for the year and then get disappointed when about 3 days into the new year, I abandon them. At least I'm consistent, right? Well, this year I have decided not to make any resolutions, especially since I'm not very good at keeping them. I'm going to take a different approach to the new year. Let's call it reverse, reverse psychology. Ya know how some people, like myself, set their alarm clock 15 minutes early so they are never late? Yeah, well that doesn't work too well, because then you hit snooze, because you know you still have an extra 15 minutes before you really have to get going. OK. So, my idea is that if I say, for instance, I do not want to lose weight this year, I will. BUT, I won't be disappointed if I don't. Now, instead of setting myself up for failure, I have a 50/50 chance of losing weight. The odds are more equal that I MAY lose weight, as opposed to being completely stacked against me. Do you follow me? It's like the Secret, but in reverse. Therefore, since I am not putting out any negative vibes like disappointment or failure, the universe will feel my enthusiasm that I could lose weight, so I might. It becomes a win-win for me. With that being said, I have created a list of the "objectives" I will not obtain this year, simply because I do not make resolutions or take the steps needed to meet those resolutions.

1. I will not lose weight.
2. I will not make a million dollars this year. (this one is my favorite)
3. I will be nice to relatives I don't like. (no, this is not a typo)
4. I will eat lots of fast food. (this is not either)
5. I will not have a clean house.
6. I will not have the laundry fairy come twice a week-preferably Tuesday and Saturday. (ha, ha-this is kinda fun)
7. I will not cook nutritious meals for my family.
8. I will not speak my mind-instead I will hold my tongue until my face turns purple.
9. I will not work less hours, instead I will slack off and let others do my work for me.
10. I will not sleep 4-6 consecutive hours a night.

So, that's my list in a nutshell. I have high hopes don't I? Seriously, I feel really good now. I have increased my chances of achieving these ummm...goals....by 50%. So, I have hope. Yes, I do believe my unique take on new year's resolutions fits right in with Obama's theme of hope and change. I am hoping to achieve my goals, therefore my life will change. Hmmm..pretty catchy, eh? Maybe I won't make my million dollars this year, but then it won't be Obama's fault either. Soooo....I will not wish you all a happy new year, but a very unprosperous and dismal one. See, I have already given you a 50/50 chance of success. Take it and run. Go out and regardless of what anyone else says, do not, I repeat, do not make any resolutions.
What are your "unresolutions" for 2009? Drop me a line, or not, and we will, or won't, compare notes. And remember, it's not in the hands of the universe.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Not sure what to get for that hard-to-buy person or the person who has everything? Instead of buying a gift, just to give a gift, think about making a donation to charity or a specific cause in that person's name. If you are unsure which charity to donate to, how about supporting the USO? They are looking for donations to send phone cards to soldiers in Iraq, who I'm sure would love to contact their families for the holidays. Kind of like a give back gift. We all get caught up in the commercialism of the holidays, so giving back to our favorite charities and organizations is a good way to show our gratitude for the blessings we have been given. Some great charities to donate to are the American Red Cross, the Salvation Army, Stand Up 2 Cancer, the USO, St. Jude Children's Hospital, the Ronald McDonald House, and the Make A Wish Foundation. These organizations will be grateful for your donation and your money will go to a good cause. Think about it. It will make you feel good and help someone who really needs it. Happy gift-giving!

Christmas Tree Update

Wanted to update everyone on my Christmas Tree status-up, with one strand of lights and no ornaments. Yep. Still working on it. The chaos escalated about Tuesday and has been full throttle in my house since then. We have endured homework, homework meltdowns, 2 days of soccer practice, Panda meltdowns, cats running up and knocking over my Christmas tree, gift making, gift making meltdowns and shopping. Oh, and work and all the other stuff. Laundry is still on the floor/in the laundry basket piled about a mile high, awaiting the laundry fairy and now dishes are in the sink. I'm working and blogging at the same time to make better use of my time. I am quite the multi-tasker this week. I was able to talk on the phone, wash dishes, make dinner, do laundry and make lunch for myself all at the same time. Scary, eh? All in a days work I say.
Tinkerbell ate something that did not agree with her and she christened my couch and Chewy, well, he definitely needs to be fixed because he spent this week marking his territory. Sigh. I'm not sure I will ever catch up. Whatever.
As I mentioned, the tree is still naked. Not to be a liar, it has one strand of lights on it and it had the star, until Fatboy and Smokey decided to run up and down the tree several times, meowing and screeching, in the middle of the night, and knocked the star off. Panda found it behind the tree. Then yesterday, right as I was walking out the door, the kitty furballs knocked over the top half of the tree and it fell over. Lovely. We, of course, were late, so I left, brought the kids to school, came back home, righted the tree and then left to volunteer at Panda and Mini Me's school for the Holiday gift shop. Being on time is so overrated, ya know?
So, with five days until Christmas, the clock is just fast forwarding out of control and I am seriously thinking about adding a couple more strands of lights, a box or two of ornaments and calling the tree decorated. It is coming down December 26, anyway, so I can get my house in order, stop my head from spinning and regroup for the next 3 months until spring break. Plus, I still have a few gifts to buy, gifts to wrap and everyone on our list is getting an email card-if I have their address. If not, well, catch ya next year. With our finances being crazy this year, Mike and I only purchased gifts for our kids-no one else. If they don't understand, too bad. It is what it is. I am done trying to make everyone else happy and I refuse to get further into debt to save face. Again, my previous comment holds-catch ya next year.
To boot, I received my daily "updates" from Monkeyboy's middle school. He is only 2 points away from failing math. I want to strangle him. I gave him lecture #6,495 on the way to school yesterday about having to give up his elective next term and take Algebra I again.
And that he needed to study over the break and turn in the homework he DID, but did not give to the teacher because he was absent. He did it, he did not hand it in. This=0. Numbers are not computing in his brain I guess. Makes no sense-why do it and not turn it in? I again explained that he will be repeating Algebra I and taking another math class at the same time if he does not pull that grade up. Finally, I saw just a slight flicker of understanding. Very slight, I say, but that flicker is giving me hope.
I want to pull my hair out. Or his.
On a more humorous note, I must say that I have been derelict in my duties and have not passed on the next in the tampon craft series: The Tampon Menorah. Today, I went to White Trash Mom's blog, and discovered she has added the menorah project to her series, for all of you who celebrate Hanukkah. Very cute and easy to make for those last minute gifts. Hopefully, Photo Chick will see this in time to quickly make one for her own family gift-giving pleasure.
While I was on White Trash Mom's blog, I noticed a new take on the classic gingerbread house-the gingerbread trailer. Check out her video for a new cooking craft to do with the kids, here. Very hilarious for those of you who are warped like me. Be sure and email me pictures of any holiday crafts, like the tampon series, you re-create. I would love to see them! Send all pictures to mrschattypants@gmail.com. Look forward to seeing your creations!!!

Soccer Mom On the Edge

Saturday was Panda's first soccer game of the season. Her team won 7-1, and she was ecstatic! The biggest downer was the drama that occurred between the sports leagues, parents and coaches.
Essentially, parents want their kids to have fun and play a sport. OK, but they also want that team to be a winner. For bragging rights, of course. Who really cares? Maybe I am too casual about this sports thing, but here me out on this one. The players are children and most of them are under 11, so how competitive can they be? I mean, really. It is just a game. Odds are 1)they are not going to play professionally, 2)if they do play professionally, it is such a small percentage of kids who have the talent and drive to go professional that it does not really apply to the majority, 3)it is a game and should be played as such and 4)they are under the age of 11. In my playbook, Game=playing=fun=possible win/lose scenario.
Yes, coaches should coach their team and encourage them to win, but that should not be the focus of the sport. Learning the fundamentals, skills, and general rules of the game are important too. So is sportsmanship.
Now sportsmanship, well, that is a whole other monkey. Coaches should not stack teams and parents should not interfere with team selection and placement. For special circumstances, fine. But not because they want a more competitive coach who is only out to win. Let's be real now. Who is really playing the sport? Mom and Dad, or the kid? Truth be told, if Mom and Dad are so concerned about winning, maybe they should join their own AGE appropriate team. Then they could directly effect their team's win/lose capabilities. Leaving coaching and coaching matters to the coaches. I know, way too simple of a concept for the general population.
Also, how about the coaches that are scouting out the other teams and compiling stats on various players? Are you kidding me? Is it really necessary? And how much skill do you think an 11 year old has? They change their mood on a dime-one day they want to play, other days they could care less. This is why it is called a YOUTH league. Calm it down coach and like my advice to the parents, join your own AGE appropriate team!
Thankfully, Panda's coach is quite normal. He likes to win, but it is not the focus of his time on the field. He goes out there, teaches the kids the fundamentals and has a good time. The coach even spotlights different kids each game for making their first goal, being a team player-whatever. He make a point of playing all the team members and the kids have a great time. This is what team sports are about at this age. Not everyone has to be a winner, but everyone has to do their best. For the team. Basic, sports concept, which is obviously too difficult for some people to comprehend!
Parental and league drama is just so unacceptable. It puts the focus where it does not belong-on the individual with the problem. I will even go so far so to call these people psycho-sports-people-from-hell. They rank right up there with the PTA. People with no life, who need power, in a little pond. Please!! Take a class, learn a hobby or read a book! Just step away from the kids and let it be about them!
This leads me right to the parents sitting on the sidelines, screaming at their kids to cover the other team and be aggressive. Hello, again, this is YOUTH sports, with children under 11 participating. It's disgusting really. Get a life! Your kid isn't even listening to you. He/she is picking at the blade of grass he noticed when he bent down to tie his shoe for the third time. Get real!
What is even more hilarious to me are the parents whose kids do it all. They play soccer, basketball, baseball, take drama lessons and underwater basketweaving. Please! I so want to tell them to get a life! Actually, I want to smack some of these parents and tell them to get ready to pay for therapy-they are totally overextending their children for what? So they can live vicariously through them? I don't get that. They should let them play more video games and slack off, like mine do! I've got some 80's music they can learn the lyrics to on Singstar.
My daughter, has a pretty good attitude about soccer. She likes it. And that's just fine with me. She is excited to go to practice, likes to hang out with "some" of her teammates and gets to have some fun. Really, that is what youth sports are about. Anything else, is irrelevant. In her case, her team is in the under 8 category, so professional soccer players they are not. I think at the next game, the parents (and those way too aggressive coaches), should drag out a Wii, play some virtual soccer and let the kids do their thing. Wanna be on my team?

Reclaiming Christmas

This week has been a completely chaotic week in our house. But, I just have to say this, my laundry is not on the couch waiting to be put away-it's in the laundry basket and on the floor in the laundry room. I'm behind. Again. Whatever. My tree is still not up, BUT it is on the floor, in the living room, in the Christmas Tree bag. I am wondering if it will be up in time for Santa. We might need an alternate plan this year. Can Santa leave gifts on the coffee table? I might be able to find a festive tablecloth to decorate it before his imminent arrival. Maybe. I am feeling quite overwhelmed this holiday season by the sheer number of things I have to do. I am lowering my expectations-they are so low, that I do believe they are invisible. Hmmm...does that count?
Today is the first soccer game of the season for both Panda and the team that Mike is coaching this year. The schedule is pretty crazy because they have two games-one at 10:30 and the other at 12:30. We are only attending Panda's because a)I've gotta work and b)they will not be dressed in time. We also have a birthday party and Monkeyboy has to finish his science fair project that is due on Monday. Sunday, I am working all day and my week is equally busy. I may have to schedule time to sleep. My children are surviving on mini corn dogs, nuked cheese sandwiches and pancakes. Yep. The meals of champions I say! I keep repeating, it's almost over, but it is a lie. And I know it. My kids know it. And, most importantly, Santa knows it. I'm sure he must be pretty overwhelmed this year as well. With the economy and all. He must be looking for ways to cut corners, bargain shop and re-gift, right? I mean, really, even Santa has a budget!
So, I guess I am needing that therapy session right about now, eh?
Actually, I have been giving some thought to simplifying. I know that seems to be the rage this year, but I have been trying to get there for awhile. I am so tired of stuff! It occupies our space and I want it gone. It makes me feel boxed in. In a sick way, I am glad Santa is on a budget this year. It means he cannot bring more toy crap in and let in multiply in our house. Plus, it would only get eaten by Chewy. I realized this last night when I removed a Littlest Pet Shop critter from his mouth. Why bother?
In the past, I have been such a stickler for traditions. Very sickeningly so. My family can attest to this. We have a holiday ritual that begins the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and does not end until January 2nd. I am the holiday Nazi! The kids love it and so do I. Mike grumbles, acts like scrooge, but we are all used to him. We have learned to just ignore his "scroogieness."
This year, the stress has so totally overcome me, that I seriously wanted to cancel Christmas. How ridiculous is that? What rattled my cage was when Mike, actually told me to stop my stress mongering and muttering about canceling Christmas because it was upsetting the kids. I was horrified! I so love the holidays and make such a big deal of ALL of them, that I could not let the stress take away my crazy, cult-like holiday cheer! Don't laugh now. Go ahead, ask my kids what we listen to if they are not all chipper when we put up the tree? Barney's Christmas songs. On cassette tape no less. Or the Wiggles Christmas CD in the car. Those musical selections alone would make a grown-up weep, now a kid, well, let's just say it is an effective means of perpetuating Christmas cheer. I will be punishing myself for my "scroogieness" these past few weeks and have to do my penance with Barney and the Wiggles. Pray for me. Please.
So, today, Saturday December 13th, I am slapping on the old Barney music, kicking scrooge out and I am reverting back to my usual holiday Nazi-like self. We are doing Christmas the Coleman way. Again. The only way I know how to be. Engulfing. I know, my family should be scared. I pity them really. I have missed out on 2.5 weeks of holiday torture that I am now full throttle ON! I need to make up for lost time. I have whipped out my Christmas music, slapped on my Minnie Mouse Santa hat and I am now ready to send scrooge running and screaming from the house. Holiday minty hook anyone?

Chewy's New Look

This is Chewy. He is the newest member of our family and the furriest. He is what the dog people call a Cavapoo-a King Cavalier Spaniel and a Toy Poodle mix. In my words, he is a mutt. He weighs all of 7 pounds and 2 pounds at least, is just fur. Chewy is 8 months old and a total spaz. My children love him. Panda carries him around like he is an infant. He loves to chew their toys and is a big asset to my toy elimination drive. Just so you know. Since no one likes to put their toys away properly, Chewy is the toy chewer who assists in the toy reduction plan. He chews them, they get thrown away. Perfect plan. I should have gotten a puppy 2 years ago when Panda first got into Polly Pocket. That would have really jump-started the toy reduction plan. But I digress.
Chewy's all-time favorite thing is to go outside and roll in the grass, dirt and leaves. He is constantly covered in those little green things and he is so....clueless?...that he chases the leaves blowing by and brings them into the house. Obviously, we do not love him for his brains. Anyway. His fur was so matted and yucky, that we decided to shave him. Actually, I decided he needed to be shaved and had Mike do it. Well, he did it all right. The poor dog is now naked and looks like a skinny, little rat. With a goatee. Yeah. When I saw how...ummm...ugly he looked without his fur, I felt bad for him and us. Us, because we had to look at him. I know, that's mean, but he was sooooo cute. When you met him, you were instantly cute-i-fied. Yep. Now, when you meet him, you think, wow, what an ugly, spazy dog. I'm just sayin'. I don't judge people by how they look, but he is a dog.
Okay, moving on.
Last week, it was a bit chilly out-especially if you were a furless, skinny rat dog. So, I decided to be humane and purchase Chewy a shirt or jacket-whatever-to keep him warm. Since he is a dog, and we live in Florida, which is pretty hot all year round, I refused to go too crazy on this outerwear. I decided $5 was a great price for dog clothes. Never in my life did I ever think I would be buying clothes for my dog, but I did.
I went to Target and they had some cute dog outfits, but they were $10. I don't think so. So I went to the infant department and started checking out the 0-3 month clothes. Yes, I did. Since he is only 5 pounds (this is without fur now), I actually needed the newborn size. There was not a whole lot to choose from and I found the cutest onesie with dogs on it for $4. Perfect, right?
When I got home and tried it on him, I laughed so hard. He looked ridiculous! The problem was the diaper flap was hanging too close to his private parts and every time he had to pee, it would get squirted on. So, I took it off, returned it and found the cutest, ugliest sweater ever, in the Target dollar bins. I should have checked there first!
Panda actually found it. She wanted to get him this way cool red jacket with white furry stuff on the hood. I told her that Chewy would be mistaken for a girl. Mini Me piped in with "see, he needs boy clothes, he doesn't want to get confused."
Yeah.
OK, so here is a picture of the Chewster in his new preppy-like sweater.
The "girl" across the street, Minnie, loves to chew and pull on his sweater. He gets upset and tries to escape her. She's just hitting on him. But you know, that's his sweater. He loves that thing.
He will not let me take it off of him. It's 80 degrees out. He is not cold, just vain.
Whatever.
HE IS A DOG!
A vain, skinny rat dog with a preppy sweater that he thinks makes him look cool. He is cute, in a very funny, kind of pathetic way. The best part-it was only $2.50. Yep. I know, I'm great. I can even find a deal on dog clothes!!! Who woulda thunk it?
Next time though, I will bring Chewy to a groomer so he doesn't look so pathetic. It will be $15 well-spent I say.
So, who else buys clothes for their pets? Does your pet preen or rush to take the clothes off? Entertain me with your stories.

Runescape: Burnin' Down the House

On Saturday, I posted that video games may, at times, be considered educational. But, did you know, they can also start fires? Well, not the game exactly, but the end user. That's PC speak for the dummy behind the computer.
While on a phone call with a client this weekend, I smelled something burning. I figured the kids had ignored me and put toast in the toaster oven when I wasn't there to supervise. I assumed, that they would smell it too since they were in the living room, which is adjacent to the kitchen.
Yeah, they say to never assume. And I never will. Again.
So, the smell begins to become more pungent and smoke starts to billow into my office (this is also know as the cave). I, VERY quickly, finish the call with my client and go running into the kitchen yelling, "What the HELL is burning?"
Monkeyboy is panicking and answers that he doesn't know.
Did I mention that Mike is at work by any chance? Yeah. Lucky him.
Panda yells that the smoke is coming from the microwave.
I look over and the entire microwave is billowing smoke and the entire house is filled with smoke. I freaked.
Actually that is really an understatement. I didn't even think. I threw everything off the top of the microwave, picked up the microwave, yanked the plug out of the wall and ran outside and dumped it in my front yard.
It felt like it took me 10 minutes but I know it was only a maximum of sixty seconds.
During the entire yanking the microwave plug out of the wall scene, Monkeyboy wants to throw water, yes I did say water, on the microwave.
Even in the face of trauma, I maintain my sarcasm and comeback with-"Have ya heard of electrocution?"
I get the blank look.
He didn't think about that. I know. He's only twelve, right? Whatever. They teach about electricity in school and how water and electricity do not mix well. Guess he needs a science tutor now.
At that point, I sent him out to gather up his siblings and the four furry beasts and continued, very quick like, to dispose of the burning appliance in my front yard.
Of course, I'm screaming at Monkeyboy the whole time.
The conversation went like this:
Me:"What the hell happened? What were you cooking?"
Monkeyboy: "I was just making pizza."
Me:"Well, how long did you put it in for?"
Monkeyboy: "For only 10 minutes!"
Me: "Ten Minutes? Are you (insert expletive of your choice) crazy? What would possess you to nuke pizza for ten minutes? Did you READ the instructions like I told you to?"
Monkeyboy: "I did-it said 10 minutes on the box."
Me: "Were you looking at the pizza box? Did you read where it said microwave directions? Hello?"
Monkeyboy: "I did-it said ten minutes for the microwave."
Me: "I don't think so-you were rushing because you were playing THAT GAME (that would be Runescape) and you didn't want to be bothered. There was no way that box said 10 minutes. "

This is were I stomp through the smoke filled house, to the refrigerator and pull out the box to prove to him that he is wrong. The box, remarkably enough, does not even HAVE directions for the microwave-only for a conventional oven or a toaster oven. And guess what? Under the directions for the toaster oven it said to cook for ten minutes. Lovely. I have a twelve year old with a 12th grade reading level who needs assistance with reading comprehension.
Yep.
The conversation resumes.
Monkeyboy: "Oh."
Me: "OH? That's all you have to say? You could have burned the house down because you were too caught up in your game to bother to pay attention to what you were doing? And what about the smoke? I was in the cave and I could smell it. When I came out, the whole area was filled with smoke. You didn't see or smell the smoke?"
Monkeyboy: "No."
ME: "Are you kidding me? What the hell is wrong with you?"

I then told him he had better not set foot near that computer anytime in his lifetime.
While Panda and Mini Me stayed outside, Monkeyboy grabbed the cat carriers and placed each of the cats in their homes and put the leashes on the dogs so no one could take off.
I checked the outlet where the microwave had been plugged in and it looked okay. It wasn't scorched, so I figured it had not had a chance to turn into an electrical fire.
Then, I opened all the windows and doors to get that nasty, smokey, plastic, burnt food smell out of my house. By now, my fear had turned into some serious Big Momma madness and I wanted to strangle the Monkeyboy.
At that exact moment Panda has to get her ten cents in. "See, Monkeyboy, I told you the microwave was on fire. You never listen to me."
This off course sparks a heated reply from the Monkeyboy.
I ignored their nastiness until Mini Me pipes in with a question for me.
Mini Me: "Mom, if Monkeyboy had burned our house down, we would be bums, right? I mean, we would have no house and we would have to live on the street, right?"
Panda interrupts with: "No, we could live in our car, Mini Me. So at least we could have a place to sleep."
Me: "No, Mini Me, we would not be bums and we would not live in our car. We would be okay. Good thing for us that I was home, so we don't have to worry about that-no thanks to Monkeyboy."

Yes, even though my heart was on the floor and I was shaking uncontrollably, I laughed. Only Mini Me would ask that question.

Moral of the story: Do not leave twelve year old son home, on the computer, cooking pizza with no exact microwave directions, ever. This WILL prevent fires and home loss.
Since Saturday, I have showered four times and my hair still smells like burnt plastic from carrying that stupid microwave out the door. The corner where the microwave once sat, smells like burnt plastic and smoke.
The microwave...well, that's toast. Literally. Inside, the paper plate and the pizza are black and the walls are scorched. So, it is on the side of the house awaiting Friday's bulk pick-up.
The good news is that a) we still have our house and b)we have acquired a new microwave.
Monkeyboy has also been renamed"Firebug."
Hopefully your weekend was not as exciting as mine. I truly mean this.

The Perfect Tree Topper

After checking out White Trash Mom's blog, I found yet another special project for all of you who enjoyed the tampon turkey. Yep, that's right Sally, now you too can have your very own tampon Angel. For details on how to make this beautiful angel, visit White Trash Mom's blog by clicking here. Photo Chick may want to stay tuned for WTM's directions on how to make a tampon Menorah. I do believe it would make the PERFECT gift for your in-laws! Eh? What do you think!!! Remember the rule, no drinking when viewing the blog. It's hazardous to the screen! Enjoy!!

It's Hip to be Square, So Don't Worry, Be Happy

Yesterday, I had a really scary thought and I felt that I should really share it. Maybe thought isn't really the right word. Feeling is better. I had feelings of guilt.
Sigh.
I know that guilt is a normal part of parenthood, but I felt guiltier than usual.
I realized, I am going to have to make way more money than I do to pay for the therapy my kids are going to need. Yep. That's right. Therapy. Why do I think they need therapy? They are warped. And I have done this. Well, Mike has helped, a little.
In a nutshell, I have created offspring that find it very hard to conform. Both to society's expectations and socially among their peers. Basically, they are weirdos that speak their mind. Watch out all you normal, tongue-biting people! My children are roaming free and you had better be on your guard.
So, I'm sure your wondering exactly how they are warped. They are not homicidal killers, crazy tree huggers or anything like that. They're just different and they are not afraid to be different. They really don't care, at least not yet.
First off, they are 80's loving music freaks who THINK they can moonwalk! Yes, moonwalk. Mini Me thinks he can break dance, which is even funnier to watch. They get on the tile and start spinning in a circle. Yep, pretty hilarious. Monkeyboy, uses his socks and slides across the tile floor. He calls that moonwalking. What a weirdo!
I told him that he needs to watch the Thriller video way more times in order to master the art of moonwalking.
The kids even know some 80's pop culture-if you can call it that. They know who Michael Jackson is and how he changed colors (not the why though, I'm not sure anyone including Michael himself knows why!), they know about Boy George and how George Michael was with Wham! and now he's not and he still can't sing. Yep. Love it, right?
They also know the words to songs by Poison, Ratt, AC/DC, Madonna and MANY other 80's songs. As they get older, this knowledge will definitely hinder them socially. I am quite positive of this. Too much 80's knowledge will make them weird to their friends, but not to their friends' parents. Or to anyone who grew up in the 80's. Like me. And Mike. And a few other people we know. You know who you are.
Am I wrong? The jury is still out.
Regardless, I would rather my kids listen to the 80's music I know, than some of the music that is currently out there. At least I can still control the car radio. Somewhat.
I must confess, though, it feels a little weird when your twelve year old wants an old AC/DC album that you had in middle school. Yep. Very strange. Almost like time is standing still, but you had kids. I did not experiment with drugs during my youth, so I cannot even use that excuse.
Funny thing is, Panda's favorite song is "I Love Rock n' Roll" by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. Mine too. She does not "know" that, even though we listen to it all the time and watch the videos on YouTube. She also loves 80's dance music and to top it off, she thinks she's a rock star!!
Which leads me to my next confession. I use dark methods to get my children to read. Have you ever played Rock Band or Singstar? We have both for the Play Station 2 and my kids love the 80's music on both games. None of the three can carry a tune to save their lives, but they love to pretend they are rock stars singing their favorites songs. What is really scary, is that over the summer, in desperation, I allowed the kids to play these video games during the day so they would leave me alone. I know, I am a baaaddd mom. Well, they drove me so close to the edge, that they played an awful lot.
Okay, so much, that my daughter's reading actually improved.
Each time I bought a new game, they would play for hours until they had mastered whatever "level of status" they needed to get to the end of the game. Since the words scroll across the TV pretty quick, Panda had to learn to read quicker in order to read the words correctly and reach "rock star" status. You see, all it takes is the RIGHT motivation!
Yes, I know, I have sunk pretty deep. I am a desperate mommy willing to do anything to get her kids to give her some time alone to stimulate a complete thought.
Oh, and to make them read.
Would I call video games educational? Maybe. Depends on how far over the edge the kids are driving me. Sometimes, I need happy juice to get through these kid music sessions. Since it is for moms only, I do not share any happy juice with my offspring. It's mine and they need to step back.
Think what you like. I, for one, am happy they are leaving me alone and being educated in the process. All it took was a little creativity mixed with desperation.
Oh, I have another dirty little secret.
I let my children read books that talk about pooping, farting, burping and other disgusting bodily function noises. And, I don't even care because they are reading.
For instance, when Monkeyboy was in third grade he was reading this book Zombie Butts from Uranus by Andy Griffiths, and his substitute said the book was not appropriate for school. Hello, he bought it at the SCHOLASTIC BOOK FAIR held at the SCHOOL! I do believe, she should mind her own business. I don't bitch when they teach my kid about evolution or global warming, so she should have no say in what my child reads. Correct? Plus, did I mention that he was reading? Oh, and he does not USE the potty words in class or make the obscene bodily function noises with his armpit. Nope, not a problem child.
Even my first grader, Mini Me, is reading. He loves comic books-do I care? No. I let him read whatever Marvel comic book he can find about the superheroes he is so enthralled with. He understands what he is reading, he likes the subject matter, and he is out of my hair. Works for me.
Some of the comic books are on an adult reading level and have some potty words in them. Mini Me thinks he is being all sly when he spells the word out to me. Well, I nipped that in the bud, so he now just gives me the first letter of the word, spells it out to me and wants me to tell him how to say the word. Smart little bugger, eh? Doesn't work. I give him the evil eye, he counters that with his mischievous grin and a sparkle in his eye. Yeah, I know what's up. That's why I'm the mom. But I like it that he can think for himself.
Actually, Mini Me, like his brother and sister, already know the potty words thanks to me. Whatever. They know they are not allowed to say them. They interject the appropriate word in nicer words, than what they really wanted to say. They haven't really pushed the envelope on this. Well, Monkeyboy tries, but I just put the smack down on him and he clams up pretty quick. He knows if he pushes too far, he will be writing an essay on the correct use of the English language. The whole do as I say, not as I do. For now, it is working.
See what I mean about therapy? Who do you think might need it more, them or me?
Despite their love of reading books about bodily functions, superheroes who have potty mouths and listening to 80's music, my kids are pretty unique. They are well behaved in school-notice that I did say in school. At home, with me, they are little heathens who bring me lots of chaos and quite a few laughs. I am sure that I have warped them considerably more than I have let on-wink, wink.
So, who else is warping their children? Is there a support group for this? Is there alcohol involved at this meeting and can the kids stay home?