Happy Thanksgiving!

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

It is a well known fact that Ty can negotiate just about anything.  A friend and neighbor announced recently that he planned on having Ty — age five —  negotiate the re-fi’s on his mortgage.  I have to have nerves of steel and a heckofa line in the sand when Ty sets his sights on something.  And recently he set his sights on that box of Swiss Miss and that bag of marshmellows.

For days now he has been asking me about the weather report. It took me a while to figure out why.  His angle?  Rainy, wet, or even snowy weather equals….Hot Chocolate.  But I once I was onto him I could tell him, hey, it is not quite cold enough yet!   He then turned to the “others” he figured would cave in or at least didn’t know the rules.  He asked babysitters and friends for hot chocolate.  Nope.  No luck.

Driving home from school Monday afternoon he told me, Ah Mommy, I am soooooooooo cold. 

I was distracted by a garbage truck and the rain. Ah honey, I am so sorry.  What can we do to warm you up?

You see it coming, don’t you?  Well, I didn’t.  Moment of weakness, I guess.

I need Hot Chocolate.  He says in his sweetest, I love you mommy, voice.   So, I answered with the good ol’ mother standby.  Let me think about it. 

He smilled and then actually cackled.  Because, basically, he knew he had me at “I’ll think about it.” 

An hour later, out came the tea kettle.  Out came the mashmellows.  Out came the Swiss Miss.   I even got out the whole milk.

Okay, bud, I said.  You can have the hot chocolate on one condition.  You have to let me take your picture while you drink it.

I am pretty sure that his internal dialoge goes something like this… “SUCKAAHHHH!”

I am doomed, aren’t I???

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

I hope everyone had a great Halloween.  Now comes the fun part… stealing the candy from the kids’ stash.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

With my previous paradigm in place of the lovely local patch, I decided that taking Emme (age 19 months) on Ty’s kindergarten field trip to THE FARM… dum dum dummm… was going to be just fine. It became immediately apparent after our 30 minute drive on fog infested country roads that this was not a farm.  This was an amusement park.  Designed by Stephen King.  Luring  peace and pumpkin loving parents to their doom. 

The rundown looks like this.  First of all, we were there with about 20 other preschools and kindergartens — so about two billion children under the age of 5.  Making it a chaotic melee of children moving from station to station on THE FARM…dum dum dumm… while being shouted at by the “farmers” to keep moving, folks.  The hayride scared Emme. While all the kindergarten girls picked out cute little purse pumkins, Ty picked out what felt like the world’s largest pumpkin. So I had to enlist our neighbor to carry it because with 28 pound Emme on one hip, the 30+ pound pumpkin was too freakin heavy and it didn’t fit in the grocery bag the school provided.  Some may say, why did you let Ty get such a big pumpkin.  I DON’T KNOW is the answer.  It make sense in the intial nano-second and then I was committed.  The picture doesn’t do it justice.

After the hayride and pumpkin search, there was a hay maze which ended in a slide from the top of the barn.  The attendant asked for two parents to “man the slide.”  After the first kids went down the slide, it became obvious that “manning the slide” was code for “try not to let any kids kill themselves while shooting off the end of the world’s fastest slide into a pile of hay.”   These kids were like wellie-clad bullets coming off that thing. Ty stood at the top of the slide for quite some time before risking his life to exit the hay maze. 

I can now feel my sanity exiting THE FARM.. dum dum dummmm… along with my sense of humor and the spring in my step.

We then went to the animal area.  Emme loved the giant pig.  Ty loved to climb on the tractor –which resulted in a perilous fall where it appeared that he cracked his head on the cement.    After barking clone-trooper-esque orders at our neighbor to GRAB EMME, I ran to Ty’s rescue — all the while going over the signs of concussions in my head and calculating how far we were from the nearest ER.  As it turns out he miracously didn’t hit his head, only his elbow … and his bum.  But his bum was okay, he said, because he was “wearing really tough pants.”

We finally get to the picnic area where Ty is enjoying a POPSICLE of all things.   I din’t even care that now we were injecting the kids with sugar, I was just relieved we had made it to a chair.  It is at this point that my friend Kristi considers texting our friend Kim (who will be attending the afternoon session at THE FARM..dum dum dummm…) that THE FARM is almost as bad as Chuck E. Cheese.  Now, I have a deal with my husband about Chuck E. Cheese.  I will carry the children in my uterus for 9 months, undergo surgery to bring them into the world, and then nourish them off of my breast.  But HE HAS TO GO TO CHUCK E CHEESE.  And from now on he is on THE FARM.. dum dum dummm.. duty as well.

It is at this moment that some yells, “Hey come watch the PIG SHOW!” 

Enough said.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

They had set up a water stand.

And they were selling water.

From the tap.

Ty says, This is how we are going to get rich!!!  Now, mommy and daddy, you need to buy some water and drink it.

Dave has never been able to pass up a stand where kids are selling things and so he diligently paid a quarter (even though the price tag said 1 cent) for a kid-sized cup of tap water. It had one ice cube floating in it.  All eyes then turned to me.  I said, hey honey how about buying me some water, it can be like a date. 

Dave frowned and dug through the junk drawer and produced another quarter for my glass of water.  I guess he had other things in mind for our date.

This money-making venture produced squeals of delight from Ty as he has huge dreams of purchasing the LEGO Death Star, which costs a mere 400 dollars.  He then required that I buy another cup of water but this time I had to select the heart glass because, he said, mommy you love me so much. 

Yes, I do.  I am buying water twice to add to your Death Star fund.  Water, by the way, that was mine to begin with.  Or at least mine by marriage.

But I kept these thoughts to myself and enjoyed the joy of the little ones as they tallied up the 56 cents they “earned” and clinked it into their money banks.  And the water tasted really really good.

Cheers!

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

I think in Ty’s first week of life, we realized that this kid may sleep with us until he goes to college.  No joke. College.

It complicates certain issues, surely, but, it also has its perks.

Last night I turned the light out and turned toward my sound asleep little boy who was starting kindergarten the next day. I looked into his slumbering face and marvelled at his perfection, his long lashes, his scraggly hair.  I thought about how I was probably NOT going to cry when I dropped him off the next morning at kindergarten — really — but right now in the moonlight I wanted to memorize his face, what he looked like the night before.  I cuddled in, I  felt my heart swell.

My heart swelled just in time for Ty’s right arm to swing around and punch me smack in the nose.

His eyes then fluttered open and he said, “Oh, sorry mommy, I thought you were Lily.”

Holding Up "K's" For Kindergarden

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

So, on late Sunday afternoon we headed back, hoping that the kids would rest, the baby would sleep and we would make it home in time to order take out and watch some DVR-ed shows.  Most people who travel The Pass stop “at the top” to take in the beauty, stretch, and use the state provided bathrooms.  As we passed that last rest area before “the top” I realized that I was cutting it a little bit close in terms of that state provided bathroom.  But, hey, I have a teacher bladder and I am sure I can make it.

Then we hit traffic.

Bad traffic.

Backed up for miles, bad traffic.

I am sure we’ll be along shortly.  We all thought.

So, to pass the time time (no pun intended) and to take my mind of the every-growing need to pee, I pulled out my camera.

Here is Jade’s vote for our Christmas picture 2010.  What is clear to me, is that we need a bigger car.

Entertaining the baby.

After a while I noticed that there were children playing on the freeway.  I then started to fear for my bladder.

Facebook updates informed us that we were looking at 10 miles of backups and a possible 2 hour delay.

I looked to my right — only to see a sheer rock face.  No hope for a behind-the-tree emergency potty break

I looked to my left — only to see tons of oncoming traffic. This is the one are of The Pass that does not have a center median.  No relief there.

I spotted possible salvation parked behind us.

This is one of those times I don’t think I am going to be able to talk Dave into helping out.  There is no way he is going to walk up to that camper, knock ont he door, and ask if his wife can use their bathroom.  Besides, it might have a serial killer inside, or really mean outdoorsmen.

Luckily, 90 minutes after we stopped, the lane next to us starting moving.  The camper pulled in next to us, and then pulled ahead, and as I saw my last hope drive off  I shouted, “FOLLOW THAT POTTY!”  And we did. 

I made it just in time.

Even teacher-bladders have their limit.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

About a week back I shared on Me Ra Koh Photography my technique in capturing the first day of school photos.  What was great this year was that the pics turned out so well last year with my “fingers idea” that we all just jumped right into it!

Check it out!

My 9th grader (notice the 9 fingers — which is kinda hard to do, getting rid of that one rascally finger!!!):

Now for my 7th grader (7 fingers) on her first day of junior high.  She was nervous…

And then there is my 5th grader.  Who, well, just said “Photo the hand!”  Luckily a hand has 5 fingers.

Happy Back-To-School everyone!

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.

©2012 MamaBloo. All Rights Reserved.