My public apology to the Wal Mart Patron I swore at...

I swore at a Wal Mart patron. 

And not to brag,  but my child also survived the trip. Much to his momma’s surprise.

The trip to Wal Mart was supposed to be short and sweet (aren’t they all…). And for the first fifteen minutes, we were doing awesome. Then I mentioned winter coats. My seven year old lost it. Like LOST IT. He, apparently, is allergic to winter coats and wanted a camouflage jacket because, he is a hunting man. This allergic reaction apparently causes loud outbursts and screams that are glass shattering loud and are comparative to the sounds one would make while having a limb ripped from the body.

We walked around the boys clothing department for several minutes. Each agonizing minute I was telling myself he was almost done. He wasn’t. He wanted to leave the store and go home.  I am not sure how he wasn’t embarrassed. I, his momma, was mortified and upset. The looks we got were obscene. I tried mouthing the words I’m sorry. I tried to ignore them. I couldn’t. This momma was broken and suffering from a ruptured ear drum. 

I just felt sorry. Sorry for myself, sorry for my son, and sorry for the general public within a 5 mile radius.

So when I not only got “the glare”, but the accompanying words that did me in “if I was that mom I’d…”. It was Momma’s turn to lose it. And I did. I looked at her and I said the following; “Lady, I can f*** ing stare also.” And I turned and stepped off my soap box and pushed my cart out of the boys clothing department and into further embarrassment. Did I really just say those words? In front of my children?

I did. And I knew that I did because my son had stopped his screaming fit and was now standing with his mouth agape.  Horrified, I quickly left the vicinity in search of a hiding place. Was I going to be kicked out of Wal Mart? WAL MART??? I figured now was a good time to get out of the store before I continued my rampage and swore at any more of the onlookers. I was distracted then, by the familiar shrieking of a perturbed seven year old starting up again.  Awesome. (Yes, you read that right…seven.) I nearly ran to the checkout.

The screaming continued until we reached line #1. Despite my demanding, threatening, bargaining, and near begging for him to stop, he didn’t. I wanted to cry. Instead, I knelt down to his level and I hugged my yowling victim of winter coat allergies. I hugged him. He melted into my arms. This little ball of screeching was tired. He was frustrated and tired and he needed love. He needed to be reprimanded as well, but first he needed to be reminded that he was loved. As my arms released him, he looked at me with his red puffy eyes and he said the words I’d been hoping to hear. The words I probably needed to say to that woman, he said “I’m sorry”.

Thinking back on this,  I feel bad for the helpless woman I swore at.  And I say helpless, in that I probably wouldn’t have been able to control my staring either had I been in her place.  And I’d like to think that Caler taught me a lesson. You can always say you’re sorry. It doesn’t erase the action, but at least you’re making steps to correct it. So please consider this my public apology to the wal mart patron I swore at. 

And yes kids... I did wash my mouth out with soap.

Witchcraft, Wizardry, & Freeway Exits

I missed the freeway exit. Which wouldn’t be a big deal, except for the fact that it’s the exit I take to go home. Every day. Same exit. I could say I was talking on the phone, or pretending I was the next Beyonce, or looking for my sunglasses all of which I do on a regular basis. But, none of those things happened. I just missed it… and I glanced out the window and watched as the familiar scenery passed by.  I should have waved, but instead my mouth dropped. I did it, again. Yes… again. And again…

I’m 99% convinced that while the humans are sleeping peacefully, dreaming of their familiar commutes to work and home. The freeway exits move. They change direction and location. They might as well be the staircases at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.

Now, it has been suggested to me that I use a GPS or Siri. That would be an excellent suggestion if Siri wasn’t a witch and the GPS (which I’m told is already installed on my phone???) wasn’t sorcery. They stress me out and I end up pressing buttons that shouldn’t be pushed and then Siri yells at me in her monotone voice. I try to retaliate and I talk back to her,  but she just tells me the carpet needs vacuuming. Witch.  The buttons that I pushed on the GPS suggest I take a left turn to Hong Kong or some other weird place. I give up.

Justin and I

Justin Bieber. If you’re thinking, I may break out my hairbrush and attempt to rock out to one of his songs…. You would be wrong. It’s what my seven-year-old little boy said my new haircut looked like. Well as he put it “Momma, you look like a black-haired Justin Beiber.” And he continued on in his ventures of saving the world. Meanwhile… it took awhile to step away from the mirror to convince myself that he was wrong. And he was wrong, but that’s not the point.

Mean! The kid is mean… also wrong, but mostly mean. Now really, I’m 28 years old and my feelings weren’t really hurt. In fact, Dr. Pepper nearly came out my nose from laughter. It did make me stop and think, though, about how that comment or one similar could have really hurt a person’s feelings (no offense Mr. Bieber, you’re haircut suits your features just fine). 

Lesson learned: I need to teach my children compassion.

See… he was wrong. There is no resemblance, my eyes are blue!

Mi Amiga's... My Friends.. My Light and My Three Way Mirror!

Why should we stand around in lonely shadows when there is so much light around us…. Friends are so often that light.   My FRIENDS are the light in my life that shines for me when I feel like I’ll be stuck in the dark forever. They’re the voices behind me encouraging me with arms outstretched ready to catch me in case I fall.  They’re the shoulder I continue to lean on when I feel like crumbling to the floor. They’re the back bone I need when my spine is limp. They are the voice of reason when I reach for a not so flattering clothing item.

They don’t get mad when my Michael Jackson dance moves nearly break their fingers (I’m still really Sorry, Meg). They are the ones I run to when I am nearly bursting with excitement and I have to tell someone. They can turn a simple restaurant into the most magical place on Earth. They don’t laugh when I repeat the phrase “Oopsie Daisies” five times in a row. They turn the channel when the orphaned puppy commercials come on to save me from tears. They are the ones I can play Chubby Bunny Oreo style with. They are the ones who, when my heart is broken, help me pick up the pieces while trash talking the jerk who broke it.  They make an average pair of shoes into PRICELESS Pink Stiletto’s. They are each different and they are an amazing reminder of how LUCKY I am.  

Don't blink......

Is it me, or has life suddenly become increasingly more busy as each day goes past?  It seems like just yesterday I was searching my storage shed for winter coats and now I’m packing the kids’ summer gear into plastic sterilite containers.

I’m walking the aisles in grocery stores and department stores and instead of seeing beach balls and swimming attire, I see pumpkins, ghosts, and Santa Claus. Yes… I did indeed say Santa Claus.  As much as Halloween thrills and excites me… I feel a little left in the dust.

Where did Summer go? Am I the only one who feels like life is whooshing past me?   

Elementary School Robbery...

My little "Kingergartner"



The Third Grade Hunk

 Someone alert the authorities.. my babies have been stolen…. At least that’s the story I’m sticking to instead of facing the fact that, as Caler so innocently put it, I don’t have any more little boys.. they’re big boys now. Because every mom should know that that is what Kindergarten means…. No more little boys. As these big boys’ momma I feel robbed. 

The car ride to the Elementary was a rough one (and it wasn’t because of my admitted lack of driving skills).  I had a mix of emotions ranging from pride to paranoia. As the car came to a stop, my realization that this is the very last moment I have with a non-kindergartner. After today he will have started school and I will have let him off into the world.  I’m thankful, though, that in Caler’s world, momma kisses still fix any owie and a kiss on the cheek is still not embarrassing. 

I couldn’t help but reflect on the  happenings of the night before, after a tearful escape from the pool where his little mischievous and naughty side shined through he was whisked home in the arms of his momma while his arms flailed wildly. He, tearless and donned in Phineus and Ferb whitey tighties, stood on the toilet seat to see in the mirror as he brushed his hair after his bath, he stole a  sideways glance my way before returning his beaming face to his reflection saying “Look how big I am getting Momma!”  He smiled as he slipped on his jamma-jammies. He smiled. He smiled with his baby teeth sparkling from the sponge-bob tooth paste he had just used. He smiled with his baby blue eyes glimmering. He smiled with his baby chub cheeks dimpled and all. He smiled. As his Momma, I’m used to his smile melting my heart and sometimes my patience… but this smile was different. This smile was that of an excited and nervous almost-kindergartner.  This was the smile of a baby boy growing up. This smile not only melted my heart but made it smile as well.  

We got out of the car and walked toward the front steps of his Elementary School. He was so proud of his homework tucked safely in his crisp new Phineus & Ferb “pack-pack” and his new dragon shirt with black shorts his Myna bought for him in preparation of this new adventure. He walked with shoulders back and his curly haired head held high. He reached the sidewalk turned and looked back at me and BAM…. My baby boy is growing up and I had just then realized it.

Transformer shirt = check, new Keds with lime green laces = check, Starkiller-like(Star Wars character… a member of the Sith; Darth Vadars secret apprentice) backpack = check…. Looks like all the preparations for Third grade are complete.  Third grade. 

Let me repeat that…third grade. I am the mother of a child who attends the THIRD GRADE! This can’t be possible, I remember my own third grade year and it doesn’t seem that long ago. Ayden is starting a new elementary and that means meeting new friends. He’s such an amazing kid that I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to be friends with my all-knowing, Star Wars-fanatic little man. I worry though, that with his fear of other kids and with his shy and humble personality he will sit alone at the lunch table. I know I have no reason to be a worried little momma… but a worried little momma I am.  This third grader is so tender hearted. 

As the crowd of kindergartners loomed in front of us,  Caler and his little kindergarten nerves got the better of him, he let out little bits of worry with questions that nearly shattered my heart.  “What if no one likes me?”  and “What if they push me?”.  Ayden looked at his little brother acknowledging the worries he no doubt felt himself… he put his arm around his best friend and little sidekick and said “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” With tears in my eyes I couldn’t help but let out a little “awww” as I stared in awe of the amazing person Ayden is growing into.  He got embarrassed as he realized I had heard.  His dimples appeared on his reddish cheeks. It was my turn to put my arm around him and tell him how proud I am of the person he is.

 From a robbed Momma, to a worried Momma...to a VERY PROUD MOMMA!

Frankenstein goes to Kindergarten

Photo by: The amazazingly talented Jenn Koontz ( Jennkoontzphotography.blogspot.com )

My baby. My baby is going to KINDERGARTEN. Folks, I can't believe this! It seems like it was yesterday that he lovingly and longingly gazed after his older brother wanting nothing more than to be able to crawl after Ayden and the tonka truck but being stuck in his bouncy seat. He hasn't stopped the longing he feels to be as big as his older brother. He hasn't stopped chasing after him, and I have no doubt it's a matter of time when Caler is going to be the protector. The warrior. The fearless leader.

He found solace in blankets. All kind of blankets. He'd hold it in his hands and rub it on his chin. He still does this and I lub it! As he grows, I find my own solace in the things that keep him...him. I can't take my eyes away from his intense stare as he searches for bugs and his lightening fast reach snatching up the little creature. I love our Momma nuggles every Saturday morning before Ayden wakes.

My advice for Kindergarten Little Man is this.... stay true to your sweet 5 (almost 6, I know) year old heart. It's perfect. Every piece of you, my sweet feisty little bug.... is perfect! And I, personally, adore your fashion sense. Ties go with everything... including chicken, bug, or shark uniforms. (Wouldn't want to upset the US Government, now would we?)