Even though H.B. is my tough little boy, he also happens to be the whimpy kid when it comes to touching things. Jello is not a food he will eat, so you can imagine all the fun things that are out because of texture.
This 4th holiday the Hubs and I decided to paint out living room (after two years), since we just signed a 2 yr lease and know that we are staying here until I finish college and we are ready to purchase our dream home. We painted half of the living room on the 4th and finished the rest yesterday. Here is the break down of my whimpy kid's helping.
Please note: all conversations from H.B. are typed as he would say it...
"Dare go Mommy!" (painting my already painted way with a sponge brush..)
"Thank You dude."
"Dare go Mommy! (dropping paint filled brush on carpet) Ucky, ucky,ucky" (has paint fingers and it's freaking him out)
"Dammit H.B.! (angrily climbing off of my chair) How am I going to get paint out of carpet?!?! (baby wipes, not kidding) Let me get a baby wipe (wiping his hands clean)"
"Dank ooo Mommy!"
"You're Welcome H.B."
As he walks off, he walks into the wall, painting his entire right arm in Lindhurst Timber...
"Moooooommmmy! Uuuuuucckkkyyyyyyy!"
"What the hell dude! Didn't you figure that out a second ago that the wall was still wet?!?!?!"
"Ucky Mommy"
"Let me get a baby wipe...(wiping him clean)"
"Dank oo Mommy"
"You're welcome H.B., try to stay away from the walls ok?"
"Ok Mommy"
Walking up to paint tray, H.B. bravely and stupidly sticks his fingers into the wet paint...
"(loud screams and lots of crying)"
"OMG! What's the matter? Are you ok?"
"Uuuuuuuuuckyyyyyyyyyy (sobbing)"
--this is where I lose my shit, so imagine lots of cursing and yelling--
"Jesus! What is it going to take for you to leave the damn paint alone!?!?! You don't like it, stay the F out of it!!!! --deep breath-- Come here, I'll get the baby wipes. (wiping at the paint) Look, I give you points for trying repeatedly, but sometimes ya just gotta it give up. you don't like the feel of it, probably never will"
"Ok Mommy. (Giving me a hug, either for soothing purposes, because paint is tramatizing, or for thanks)"
A little while later...
"(Screaming)"
"What is it now!"
--Sean: "He stuck his hand in the wall, I can't see where,but his hand is painted."
"Really H.B.? Grrr Kid, just grr."
I have to cut him some slack, because he's only 2 and 1/2, but come on, after the second painting freak out, you would think he would have let that idea go....
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
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"
Saturday, June 16, 2012
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.
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.
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.
Monday, June 11, 2012
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.)
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.)
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
149
149 days. That's how far I made it into this year before having such a terrible day that only the unfortunate mishaps and bad luck of Clark Griswald could turn my perma-frown upside down. Not just any Griswald misadventure would do, no I needed Christmas Vacation misadventures to make me laugh.
Let me start off by saying I LOVE CHRISTMAS! I don't love it for the gifts, no I love it for the family, the get togethers, the twinkling lights and decorations. The excitement of waitng for Santa for my kids and the coute de gras of my Christmas season is the Christmas Eve family gathering at my grandparent's house. So whenever I am having a bad day, a really super aweful, terrible bad day...I watch a Christmas movie.
Moving on, My Hooigans were especially high on Hoilday weekend excitement and wear-down yesterday and they were ROTTEN. Whining and crying for nothing, screaming and yelling and hitting each other....I had had enough! I wasn't going to deal with anymore shenanigans, hijinx or tomfoolery. I sent everyone outside and turned the hose on and let them spray the shit our of each other. Then when they were done, I dried them off, sent them up stairs and turned on Clark Griswald.
I love this movie so much and it makes both the Hubs and I laugh. I use lines from it to defuse hostile situations, eg: Driving home from MI one weekend, a car sped up, past us and then pulled in front of us and immediately applied the brakes. Causing us and the line of cars behind us to slow down. Hubs, in road rage, sped up, past them and then did the same thing to them. Me, feeling a little frightened of a car crash looked at him and said,
"Alright Clark, what are you going to do next? Pull out under a logging truck?"
Laughter filled the car. We laughed so hard we slowed down because tears were coming out of our eyes.
"The little lights aren't twinkling Clark" is a phrase commonly used when a light burns out around here.
Last Christmas our tree was too tall, prompting "Do you think there's enough room for the Angel Clark?"
'The Shitter was full" can be heard when you go to use one bathroom, only to find it currently occupied, as you pass back through the house on your way up stairs you inform the others of your predicament
If you haven't figured it out, this movie is a favorite around here. It always makes me laugh and it always reminds me I need to lighten up. Not everything can go according to plan, sometimes you just have to push through the shit to see the rainbow...but don't get too crazy while pushing through.
SO! After I watched Christmas Vacation and had a very un-healthy snack (stress eater) I felt better and ready to deal with the Shenanigans! I let the kids come back down stairs and after being treated to the same over excited, wore down behavior, we hurried up, ate dinner and put kids to bed for the night...and watched Clark again! :) Today hasn't started out any better, but there is always tonight, and if that fails...tomorrow!
Let me start off by saying I LOVE CHRISTMAS! I don't love it for the gifts, no I love it for the family, the get togethers, the twinkling lights and decorations. The excitement of waitng for Santa for my kids and the coute de gras of my Christmas season is the Christmas Eve family gathering at my grandparent's house. So whenever I am having a bad day, a really super aweful, terrible bad day...I watch a Christmas movie.
Moving on, My Hooigans were especially high on Hoilday weekend excitement and wear-down yesterday and they were ROTTEN. Whining and crying for nothing, screaming and yelling and hitting each other....I had had enough! I wasn't going to deal with anymore shenanigans, hijinx or tomfoolery. I sent everyone outside and turned the hose on and let them spray the shit our of each other. Then when they were done, I dried them off, sent them up stairs and turned on Clark Griswald.
I love this movie so much and it makes both the Hubs and I laugh. I use lines from it to defuse hostile situations, eg: Driving home from MI one weekend, a car sped up, past us and then pulled in front of us and immediately applied the brakes. Causing us and the line of cars behind us to slow down. Hubs, in road rage, sped up, past them and then did the same thing to them. Me, feeling a little frightened of a car crash looked at him and said,
"Alright Clark, what are you going to do next? Pull out under a logging truck?"
Laughter filled the car. We laughed so hard we slowed down because tears were coming out of our eyes.
"The little lights aren't twinkling Clark" is a phrase commonly used when a light burns out around here.
Last Christmas our tree was too tall, prompting "Do you think there's enough room for the Angel Clark?"
'The Shitter was full" can be heard when you go to use one bathroom, only to find it currently occupied, as you pass back through the house on your way up stairs you inform the others of your predicament
If you haven't figured it out, this movie is a favorite around here. It always makes me laugh and it always reminds me I need to lighten up. Not everything can go according to plan, sometimes you just have to push through the shit to see the rainbow...but don't get too crazy while pushing through.
SO! After I watched Christmas Vacation and had a very un-healthy snack (stress eater) I felt better and ready to deal with the Shenanigans! I let the kids come back down stairs and after being treated to the same over excited, wore down behavior, we hurried up, ate dinner and put kids to bed for the night...and watched Clark again! :) Today hasn't started out any better, but there is always tonight, and if that fails...tomorrow!
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
The Importance of Routines....
When you are thinking about having a family, you always hear "It's so important to establish a routine early" or "babies crave routine.." and the ever present "Is her routine steady?"
I HATE ROUTINES!!!!
Let me be clear, I like to have normalcy, and something that never changes, but I also know how to roll with the punches. I rarely get all bent out of shape if something changes at the drop of a hat, but I'm not a free floating spirit either. I have moments where I just can't take on more change and I have moments where I'm thinking "WTF" as my Hubs goes into Monster mode because no one is following the "routine"
Here's one way you can be sure to piss me off by breaking a plan or routine;
I say "Ok, in 10 min we'll be ready to get in the car" after 10 min I say "Ok let's head out" and you say "Just a minute, I've got to get my shoes on, go potty, get something to drink and get cuppies around for the kids..." I will be pissed! WTF were you doing the past 10 effing minutes?!?! You weren't changing diapers, or getting shoes and coats on...so WTF were you doing that was so GD important that you didn't get all that shit done in those 10 effing minutes?!?!?! I cannot stand being late, even if there is no strict arrival time, if I say we're leaving in 10 minutes...WE'RE LEAVING IN 10 EFFING MINUTES!!!
Enough about me, let's talks about Hooligans A, B, and C.
Hooligan A aka Girl A, is a whiner. She is also Sassy, Bossy and a spoiled rotten brat. I know, I only have myself to blame, but it's the truth.
Hooligan B aka Boy is a brute. He has trouble communitcating and we're working on getting him into therapy for it. He might also have some coping issues, but we're not sure.
Hoolgan C aka Girl B is a feisty boss. She walks around with her toddler bhudda belly squawking orders at everyone in a language only she can understand...maybe Hooligan B knows it too...jury's still out.
Onto the routine thing....
Hooligan A is pretty good about following any routine you tell her to follow, but she gets pretty mouthy if you try to change it. She first sasses you about what was supposed to happen, then she whines about it, then she has a temper tantrum only a spoiled princess could muster. For this reason I have learned to NOT set forth a verbal routine...like leaving in 10min...it irks her too if it doesn't happen. (She's figured out how to judge time by the "big" hand..smart cookie)
Hooligan B is terrible about routines. He responds well to food bribes only adding to his brute-ish-ness by giving him more weight and muscle. Tell him we're leaving in 10 minutes and he's standing at the door in 5 seconds saying "Gooooo Bye Byeeeeee" and twisting the knob trying to get out without shoes and without a coat. For this reason I have learned to NOT set forth a verbal routine...like leaving in 10min!
Hooligan C is a free spirit. She does things on her own time and at her own pace. She only moves on time if you carry her. Teller her we're leaving in 10 minutes makes her run for cover. She finds a blanket and hides under it until she thinks the danger of going outside has passed. Some how she is not an outdoorsy person. For this reason I've learned to NOT set forth a verbal routine...like leaving in 10 min.
Hubby is a class A procrastinator like me. We make a terrible pair at getting any where on time. But if I tell him we're leaving in 10 minutes, he will say "ok" and then sit in the chair and play angry birds or try to finish his program while I get everyone else around. So when I'm ready to go, he is no where near ready! ARG! For this reason I have learned TO set forth a verbal routine...like we're leaving in 10min....along with several warning alarms at the 8, 5 and 2 minute marks!
So in conclusion...routine schmoopine! Having a routine throughout the day just means that everyday I will be having a coranary because no one is following it but me. We go at our own pace. I remind small hooligans of things that others won't tolerate and so they shouldn't do it at home. In a way, we do have a routine, our routine is no routine!
I HATE ROUTINES!!!!
Let me be clear, I like to have normalcy, and something that never changes, but I also know how to roll with the punches. I rarely get all bent out of shape if something changes at the drop of a hat, but I'm not a free floating spirit either. I have moments where I just can't take on more change and I have moments where I'm thinking "WTF" as my Hubs goes into Monster mode because no one is following the "routine"
Here's one way you can be sure to piss me off by breaking a plan or routine;
I say "Ok, in 10 min we'll be ready to get in the car" after 10 min I say "Ok let's head out" and you say "Just a minute, I've got to get my shoes on, go potty, get something to drink and get cuppies around for the kids..." I will be pissed! WTF were you doing the past 10 effing minutes?!?! You weren't changing diapers, or getting shoes and coats on...so WTF were you doing that was so GD important that you didn't get all that shit done in those 10 effing minutes?!?!?! I cannot stand being late, even if there is no strict arrival time, if I say we're leaving in 10 minutes...WE'RE LEAVING IN 10 EFFING MINUTES!!!
Enough about me, let's talks about Hooligans A, B, and C.
Hooligan A aka Girl A, is a whiner. She is also Sassy, Bossy and a spoiled rotten brat. I know, I only have myself to blame, but it's the truth.
Hooligan B aka Boy is a brute. He has trouble communitcating and we're working on getting him into therapy for it. He might also have some coping issues, but we're not sure.
Hoolgan C aka Girl B is a feisty boss. She walks around with her toddler bhudda belly squawking orders at everyone in a language only she can understand...maybe Hooligan B knows it too...jury's still out.
Onto the routine thing....
Hooligan A is pretty good about following any routine you tell her to follow, but she gets pretty mouthy if you try to change it. She first sasses you about what was supposed to happen, then she whines about it, then she has a temper tantrum only a spoiled princess could muster. For this reason I have learned to NOT set forth a verbal routine...like leaving in 10min...it irks her too if it doesn't happen. (She's figured out how to judge time by the "big" hand..smart cookie)
Hooligan B is terrible about routines. He responds well to food bribes only adding to his brute-ish-ness by giving him more weight and muscle. Tell him we're leaving in 10 minutes and he's standing at the door in 5 seconds saying "Gooooo Bye Byeeeeee" and twisting the knob trying to get out without shoes and without a coat. For this reason I have learned to NOT set forth a verbal routine...like leaving in 10min!
Hooligan C is a free spirit. She does things on her own time and at her own pace. She only moves on time if you carry her. Teller her we're leaving in 10 minutes makes her run for cover. She finds a blanket and hides under it until she thinks the danger of going outside has passed. Some how she is not an outdoorsy person. For this reason I've learned to NOT set forth a verbal routine...like leaving in 10 min.
Hubby is a class A procrastinator like me. We make a terrible pair at getting any where on time. But if I tell him we're leaving in 10 minutes, he will say "ok" and then sit in the chair and play angry birds or try to finish his program while I get everyone else around. So when I'm ready to go, he is no where near ready! ARG! For this reason I have learned TO set forth a verbal routine...like we're leaving in 10min....along with several warning alarms at the 8, 5 and 2 minute marks!
So in conclusion...routine schmoopine! Having a routine throughout the day just means that everyday I will be having a coranary because no one is following it but me. We go at our own pace. I remind small hooligans of things that others won't tolerate and so they shouldn't do it at home. In a way, we do have a routine, our routine is no routine!
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