Choices

Since we don't like sanity, Travis and I are thinking about letting the boys have bunk beds.  Alex is allllllllll about it.  Sam says he wants to, but it's always after Alex says it will be so great if they share a room and have bunk beds.  So in an attempt to get Sam's honest feelings I asked him the other day just out of the blue...

Me:  Hey Sam!  What do you want to do?  Do you want to stay in your room or share a room and have bunk beds with Alex?
Sam:  I want pizza.

Good talk.

Wishful Thinking

I was making dinner last night and Sam asked if he could pull up a chair to stand on and watch what I was doing.  Sure thing little buddy.  Then this conversation happened:

Sam:  What are you making Mama?
Me:  Chicken pot pie.
Sam (looking at the veggies being sauteed and the pot of potatoes boiling):  That's not chicken pot pie.
Me:  Not yet it isn't.  But I'm going to cook all of these ingredients, mix them together, put the crust on, and then put it in the oven and bake it!
Sam:  And then it will turn into bacon?!

Please excuse the blurriness...but doesn't it look like my dog was put together incorrectly?

Oh the Arguing and The Irony

Alex's bike finally gave up on us, and we had to replace it.  We were really trying to make it last this season, but it had different ideas, so a new (to us) bike was in order.  I found a nice used one, and he absolutely loves it and now is dying to ride his bike to school.  Sure thing, just find your bike lock and we're good to go.  Uh huh.

That was when he told us he has it, buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut he doesn't remember the combination to get it unlocked.  I reminded him that we set it together and I remember it, so it's ok.  Yes, it would be ok if he hadn't changed it after we set it.  So now we have a bike lock with some random 4 digit number that will unlock it, and nobody knows what that number is.

So yesterday morning was full of Alex saying, "Oh!  I know what it is!  It's _ _ _ _," and then me trying whatever string of numbers he rattled off only to have the lock remain, well, locked.  After the fifth or sixth go 'round with that, Alex gave up and said, "Well, can't we just go buy a new one?"  Yeah, not a good time to flippantly bring up the fact that you think we should just go buy a new bike lock because your little 8 year old self decided to change the combination your mother set for you.  But, I was not the one to lose my cool over this.  Travis took the reigns.  Poor Alex.

Travis went on a bit of a lecture about how irresponsible it was for Alex to change the combination and then forget it.  And that we weren't about to go run out and spend another $20 to replace the lock so he could have the privilege of riding his new bike to school.  And that Alex needs to spend some time trying to figure out what he might have set the combination as instead of just giving up.  And that Alex's cousin worked in a cheese factory this summer for $10 an hour and it would take him 2 hours to earn enough money to buy new bike lock.  And clearly Alex doesn't understand the worth of money.

During this whole lecture, I managed to bite my tongue and not remind Travis that his bike lock?  Yeah, that sucker has been locked to Travis's bike for the last three years because he lost the key.  I held my tongue until Travis took a break from talking to Alex, and came down to my desk all frustrated with "how irresponsible Alex is" with his things and how glib Alex is about money.  That was when I said that I was frustrated as well, but just keep in mind you too have a useless bike lock.  It happens.  You're 39 years old.  He's 8.  But apparently that is different because Travis lost the key to his lock when we were moving.  Oh, ok.

Travis then decided he was going to try every single number from 0000 to 9999 until he found the number that unlocked the lock.  He also decided he was unequivocally pissed that Alex wasn't willing to an active participant in that endeavor.  After a lot of arguing and pouting, Travis said, "You do realize if I sit here and take the time and find the combination, you're gonna owe me $20, right?"  Now.  A lot of kids would have realized this was a rhetorical question.  A lot of kids would have quickly understood this was NOT a good time to get the last word in.  A lot of kids would have sat there pouting across from their irritated father, but they would have sat there silently.  Welp, Alex is not a lot of kids.  Instead of any of those options, he snarkily replied, "Well, do you have change for thirty?"

I don't know if Travis was angrier at the stupidity of that question or the backtalk, but I do know it was a good thing Alex promptly removed himself from the room.

Sleepy --> Spaz

Sam took a 3+ hour nap on Sunday.  He usually sleeps for a couple hours, but 3+ hours was a bit out of the ordinary.  Travis and I chalked it up to him not taking a long nap on Saturday and left it at that.  And then Sunday night rolled around.  And Sam went BONKERS.  Silly bonkers, but still bonkers.  But he threw in a pinch of being a complete asshole to Alex just for fun.  It took forever to get him to bed and I had to get up multiple times from reading with Alex to tend to some ridiculous request from Sam.

I came back to Alex's room to resume reading after one such request and I told Alex I was sorry Sam was being so out of control and reminded Alex that I talked to Sam about being a good brother and all that.  Alex kinda hrrrmph'd and said, "Yeah, that three hour nap really paid off....NOT."

True that, Alex.

Post soccer game feet...

Fixin'

Travis has had new springs for his car sitting in boxes in the basement for going on two years now.  Saturday was finally the day.  And Alex was ready!  It took them a little over 2 hours, but the car now has new shocks and Alex now has a bit more knowledge.

Smile!

So I just got back from a mad dash to Alex's school because I absolutely do not have my shit together.  I got the order in for the Scholastic Book Club that was due today.  I got Alex's hair cut for his school picture today.  I filled out the form he has to give to the photographer.  I wrote the check for the only picture package that wasn't outrageously expensive and didn't include 43,983 wallet size pictures.  Seriously.  Who in the world needs that many wallet size photos?  Honestly.  Anyway, I had all that shit done.  I put Alex in a decent, clean shirt this morning and made him show me his picture smile.  No teeth were shown.  I sent him to school and came back to my desk to work.

I was being a good little worker bee and eventually moved a very important piece of paper.  Why was it so important?  Because it was COVERING UP THE PICTURE ORDER FORM ENVELOPE.  Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.  I was so close!  I had everything done!  But then I had to go and muck it all up.

So, I grabbed the envelope and got my ass to the school to see if I missed it.  Hurrah!  His class doesn't go until 12:30.  I thanked the school secretary and headed on home.  THAT was when I assessed my appearance.  This.  This is what I went to my son's school looking like:

Let's just go over what you can see in this picutre.  Lumpy, hastily installed pony tail?  Check.  Frizzy "wings" of hair over each ear?  Check.  Funny but probably not the type of shirt appreciated at an elementary school?   Chaaaa-eck!

And for the things you can't see in the picture, but the secretary was graced with?  No mascara on one eye, but the distinct print of eyelashes above my eye from having wet eyelashes with yesterday's mascara on them when I held my eye open to put my contacts in?  Yep.  Smudges of yesterday's mascara on the other eye?  Absofuckinglutely.  Leg hair that is long enough to glimmer in the ever forgiving flourescent lights of an elementary school?  Oh you bet your sweet bippy.

Earth First

While cleaning the basement last time, I found a bunch of old paint from the previous owner.  Given I dislike every single color they painted in here, and the paint cans looked like they were from when the house was built, they had to go.  So, being a good little tree hugger, I set the cans outside on the driveway to dry out the paint before throwing them away.  I talked to Alex and his neighbor buddies extensively about what I was doing and that they were not to touch the cans.  I covered them at night so as to not let the dew add moisture that would just extend the process.  Since I didn't get on my horse and do this a couple of months ago when it was hot, it is taking some time, but we're getting there.

Sam announced he had to go potty and that the front yard was going to be the place.  I thought nothing of it until he yelled for me and I realized he was not in the front yard, but in front of the garage.  I replied by asking what he needed as I was rushing outside only to hear him say, "I didn't do anything to the paint."

Yeeeeeeeeah, I'm gonna have to go ahead and call your bluff there little man.  This is a day and a half after a half of a roll of paper towel was used to clean up the paint puddle on the driveway.

Whaaaaaat?

Alex:  May I have some cereal?
Me:  Sure.
Alex:  Can you get me a bowl?
Me:  No.  You're 8.  Get a chair and get it yourself please.
Alex:  ~eating cereal and clanking his spoon over and over and over and over~
Me:  ~seething, but not saying anything until I hear the bag crinkle~ Be done after your second helping.
Alex:  This is my first!
Me:  Then WHAT have you been doing with your spoon?
Alex:  Huh?
Me:  If this is your first helping, what have you been doing with your spoon clanking against the bowl this whole time?!
Alex:  What do you mean?  This is my second helping!

That's The Point

Me:  Sam, close your eyes and go to sleep.
Sam:  I can't.  When I close my eyes, I can't see.

Say Ahhh!

Sam went to the dentist for the first time yesterday.  He was so excited and did so well.  He could barely wait until Alex was done and every time the hygenist would finish something with Alex he would ask if it was his turn.

He's ready!

He thought sunglasses for the bright light would be cool, but then decided to go without.

And isn't every dentist appointment only complete when you get a toy narwhal to bring home?

Don't Worry About It

As we are all aware, Aiden is gettin' up there in years.  The past couple of days have been a little rough for her, but she is still ready to play around in the yard at the drop of a hat.  Two nights ago I was sitting on the couch with her and lovingly called her an Old Bag.  And then I looked down at the giant ice pack I had on one wrist while resting the other wrist on top, and also spied the frozen water bottle upon which I was rolling both of my feet.

Don't worry...she was sure to give me a solid "Who's the Old Bag now, bitch?" look.