I Love the Sprinkler

It's HOT! 

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the heat, just the humidity.  So, as we reach the high point of the summer, and the sweltering heat makes you feel like you can't breath there is only one thing to do....

BUST OUT THE SPRINKLER!

This afternoon, after everyone had a nap, I turned on the hose and suited up myself and the kids.  We braved the immense heat while I sunblocked everyone and then...the sprinkler was attached to the hose.  This was always met with delight and anticipation in my childhood, my kids however, greeted the hose like this...

"Mommy, I don't want to get sprayed, I just want to get wet!"

"No Mommy, no spinkla, nooooooo"

H.C. "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa"

I stood in just the zone of the sprinkler so only the drips would get me, I stood where I was in direct line of spray, I stood off to the side, and not one of them joined me.  Finally, fearing I was getting funny looks from other adults in the neighborhood, I grabbed H.C. and ran through the sprinkler with her "Whaaaaaaaaa"ing all the way.  Soon there after, H.B. comes running through, squawking the whole way.  H.A. is still unconvinced that she won't melt if she runs through.  I try telling her I'll run through with her.  I try telling her if she would just run through once she will enjoy it.  Nothing works.  So when in doubt, grab child and run through holding her.

I grab H.A. I start running, she's screaming "Stop Mommy, Stop!" we get about two inches into the water.."It's too cold Mommy!".  We get all the way through, I set her down.  She looks at the sprinkler, then up at me, then says "Let's do it again"  EXCUSE ME?!?!?!?!

"I thought you didn't want to get wet?"

"That was before, now I want you to carry me through the water again."

"H.A. hunnie, it is too hot for Mommy to carry you all the time, maybe we can hold hands and run through together?"

"No, I want you to carry me"

"H.A., I am not going to carry you. Now, you can hold my hand and run through with Mommy, or you can go it solo.  Pick one!"

"I'll hold your hand"

Off we go!  How fun it is!  Look what I can do's were flying around and she showed off her sprinkler jumping skills, her stand still and get sprayed skills and of course her dodging the sprinkler skills.  After about an hour I say "Let's go inside guys and have some push pops and dry off in the A/C"

"Nooooooooooo Mooooooommmmmmyyyyyyy!  I love the sprinkler"

Proper Attire Part 2

As we enter the warm summer months I feel compelled to remind people of what is appropriate attire and what is not.

First of all let's revisit the shelf bra cami issue.  Once again I will remind you that just because it says shelf bra...it DOES NOT mean that you can go bra less.  Please read the first Appropriate Attire blog to see the rules on this issue.

Chode Shorts...it wasn't until I was a freshman in college that I learned the word chode.  There is a funny story behind it, but all you need to know is if your shorts are wider than they are long...they are not ment for you to wear!!!  Some girls can pull this off without looking nasty, but so few of them know when they fall on the wrong side of this rule that I'm outlawing it for everyone!!!

Crop tops are ment for hookers and strippers.  This little fashion statement is over, so stop showing your mid section and your belly button ring and be classy NOT trashy and buy a long and lean boyfriend tank.  $8 at Target, it's probably cheaper than your crop top anyway...

Bikinis... if you can pinch an inch of fat..not skin and it hurts to pinch it because you're actually pinching your vital organs...but honest to goodness fat, and it rolls over the top of your bikini bottom...DO NOT WEAR IT!!!  Buy a tankini..or a one piece.  Some people are so ballsy when it comes to their body that sometimes I envy their courage and self esteem to go out in public like that, but then I remember that they look like crap and I'm glad I know how to dress appropriately for my size.

If your shorts are riding up into your crotch, for the LOVE OF GXD.... just pull the  damn inseam back down!!!  Do not continue to walk around like your wearing jean underwear!!!  It makes you look so trashy, you might as well wear your real undies out to walmart because you're not doing any better by leaving your inseam (little as it maybe) riding up your coochie!  Plus, if you followed the chode short rule, this wouldn't be happening, at least not on this grand of a scale.

Guys...a wife beater and shorts sagging so low they might as well be pants...  you're dating braless cami girl wearing her chode shorts into her crotch aren't you?  Stop it!!!  It is not sexy in any way.  In fact, I want to pants you, just to show you how stupid you look!  That or to fashion you a belt out of zip ties (hope you don't have to go #2 before you get home).

Most of all, LESS IS NOT MORE!!!  You are actually just wearing less and looking rather trampy.

Why I need a babysitter

Today is Saturday.  It is supposed to be my day to sleep in, and that didn't happen.  After several failed attempts to nap, I give up and ask the Hubs if we could go into Lowe's and buy some spackle and a putty knife so we can fill in some holes left from baby gate hardware and perhaps so we can buy a few of those little paint samples and test out some colors for our living room. 

Getting the kids around is always a chore, H.A. always whines, H.B. always runs around the house screaming in a very high, ear shattering decible and H.C. is always, always sitting right where you need to be going.  So, after getting everyone around and in the car, we finally get to the store and hear nothing but whinning and asking when we are going to go home and get pizza for dinner.  We get our paint samples and we get our putty knife and we order the pizza as we are leaving the store.

More non stop whinning all the way to the pizza place.  More non stop whinning while we wait for daddy to pick the pizza up.  Daddy returns to the car, only to hear me speaking in hushed "scary mommy" tone -- "if you both don't knock it off right now I am going to leave you outside the pizza place and hope a nice family takes you home" (of course I would never leave my lovies, but the threat is enough to momentarily stop the arguing). 

About half way home they go completely silent.... and I have to look because I'm worried one of them has found a way to jedi mind choke the other one.  Nope, they are all asleep!  All three of them are fast asleep in the back seat.  We get home,  H.B. goes straight to bed, H.A. comes in and goes back to sleep on the couch and H.C. wakes up and enjoys pizza with the rest of us.  However fun this might seem, H.C. is a very curious toddler and is into everything.  Those little holes we wanted to fill in will have to wait because she will be into the spackle like nobody's business.

This is why I need a regular, trustworthy babysitter.  If I had a sitter I could have them stay at home and leisurely stroll through the paint isle at Lowe's.  I could go to a nice restaurant for dinner with the Hubs instead of picking up pizza and coming home to eat.  I could go and see a movie in the theaters instead of waiting for everything to come out on blu ray.  In short, I am annoyed that I have lived here for two years and still don't have someone I can call to watch my kids, at my house, late into the night like I used to when I was younger. I have to drive the kids to my fabulous mother in law, who watches them for free, but then I feel rushed.  Like I need to hurry up and pick them up so I don't keep her up late or infringe upon her generosity.  And, she isn't always available because she has many other family requirements on her time and if she does have a weekend night to relax, I don't want to ask her to watch them because she deserves to relax too. 

I need a babysitter so I can have a relaxing night out.

Mergatroid

   In the world of parenting there is a nasty award each parent gives themselves:  Horrible Parent Award.

I'll take my award now please.  No need to wait until December and take an official vote, I'll just take my crappy mom award now and call it a day.

After previously explaining my love of the Griswolds, let me explain that I envision every road trip as an epic fail of the National Lampoon's Vacation viariety.  I always seem to forget/lose something of value, one person is either so in trouble or mad they might as well be poor Aunt Edna, dead and strapped to the roof, with the amount of talking we are NOT doing.  And when we finally get to our vacation destination, there is always some unimaginable setback that threatens the good time to be had by all.  Be it a brother in law you can't seem to get along with sitting next to your front-row-balcony terrified kid and he is only holding onto his extremely brave rail leaning kid, making you annoyed and terrified for your child... OR the celebratory fireworks that are launched well past your child's bedtime, waking them up after a now four hour "nap" and the kid is now WIDE awake causing you to be awake as well.

Nothing compares to the forgotten beloved toy.  This weekend is was the youngest's turn to experience my crappy mommyness.  Ever since she was three months old, Hooligan C has slept with a giraffe that makes noise to help sooth her to sleep, and of course I forgot one of the two we own.  Of course in true Griswold fashion I did not notice my horrible mistake until it was bed time and H.C was overly stressed without Dane Giraffe or Gerry Giraffe.  The Hubs and I, knowing we have to go to my mothership, Target, anyway decide that we might as well invest in another giraffe since Dane's voice box has been broken for months and Gerry's voice box is going on the fritz (sticky fingers have gunked up the works).  We walk into Target and have a hard time locating the Giraffes, and when we finally find them, there is only one left in the "on the Go" size, we quickly grab it, giving a large sigh of relief!  I do notice that there is a larger size giraffe and momentarily consider buying the larger one to make up for forgetting Dane and Gerry.

We rush back to my mom's house, open the new giraffe, put it's voice box in the back press the buttons and.....nothing.  Batteries must be dead! We frantically search the house for batteries in the right size and that are still good.  Finding some we quickly swap out the old for the new, press the button and......nothing.  FUCK!  Ok, don't panic...we'll just let her hold this giraffe tonight and maybe by tomorrow there will be more smaller giraffes in the morning shipment and we can replace it. 

We go back to Target in the afternoon, I return broken giraffe and we walk back to the giraffe isle.  Having small panic attacks the whole way that there won't be any giraffes, big or small, I turn the corner and there is one, large giraffe left.  I pick him up, press the button and......nothing!!!!  WTF!  Really Target???  You are going to give me that extra punch in the face for forgetting the damn giraffe once in 17 months????  Not only do you not have a small giraffe, but you can't even have a working, large giraffe?????  I turn the knob for volume to off and then back on, press the button and......boom boom croak, boom boom croak (closest way to spell the sounds, it's nature sounds so use your imagination)!!!  The Hallelujah chorus starts playing in my head, a giraffe that works!  He's huge compared to Dane and Gerry, but he works.  H.C. instantly smiles and reaches for him and you can see the stress melt off of her face. We purchase the giraffe and get him out of the box to the delight of H.C. and she cuddles his neck and promptly takes a nap. 

Welcome to the herd Mergatroid.  (Thank You GAP1 for the $5 word of a name that H.A. can't even say, let alone H.B. and H.C. so we just call him Merg for short.)