All these days leading up to the first day of school can be rather depressing. My Big Daddy's debit card is smoking, it's had so much use.
I mean when you have four kids, you are looking at totals like:
We won't even begin to discuss the clothes and shoes that are needed. But, I did get Jake's new shoes. For 70 freakin' dollars.
Seriously.
WTH? I never had shoes that cost that much when I was 12 years old. And if I did ... I will never admit it (so save your comment, mother).
Anyway ... what I'm trying to say ... is that with all that dough flying out of my Big Daddy's wallet ... I'm still able to look at the bright side of things.
Ya know what I mean!?
After all, this IS the most wonderful time of the year ...
I would like to say that my children have gotten lazy. However, in all fairness to them ... it's probably ME who has dropped the ball and become a slacker of sorts. It's not everyday I admit my mistakes and actually take the blame for something, so you are witnessing something historic here.
WAIT ...
What the hell am I doing? It's not MY fault! It's Big Daddy's fault. Yeah. Let's blame him! Oh, I feel so much better now.
Wondering what I'm talking about?
My kids don't do crap around here and I've finally reached the end of my rope. That's right ... hit the wall. Life as my children know it ... is OVER! Over, I tell you!!! While I've become lazy in making them help out around here ... it's caused me to have to take it all on myself. YES - Big Daddy helps out. A lot. But that is beside the point. We are not servents to our children. Anymore.
I wrote about it over at IowaMoms.com. Please go check it out. I'd really like to know where you all stand on the issue ... as I think parents are all over the board when it comes to kids and chores.
Saturday afternoon was a beautiful day here in Iowa. The sun was shining. The thermometers were rising. The wind was blowing ... that's right ... I knew something was ruining it. It was the damn wind. What is it with Iowa, mother nature, and the incessant need to constantly blow us over with gusts that make doing anything with children a complete nightmare? Especially when the kids don't even notice it the blasts of air about knocking them down.
"MOM! A picnic would be great today! Wouldn't it?"
"Yeah sweetie ... never mind that 40mph wind gust that just blew your PB&J down the street and through the neighbors double paned window. Oh honey, you better go catch your bike ... it's going for a ride without you."
Seriously!
I can not stand the constant wind here in these parts. This coming from a gal who moved here from Chicago. Ya know ... THE WINDY CITY?? Yeah, they don't have nothin' on us over here in Iowa.
Just sayin'.
ANYWAY - there was something else that put a damper on our day Saturday, besides that darn breeze. Yup, always something going on to make our day exciting. Emily was outside playing, in flip flops ... <cough> which I constantly tell her not to play in and that she should have her tennis shoes on </cough> ... and Miss Thing tripped on her shoe as she was running up the stairs of our deck ...
... and tripped ...
... and gave us reason to go visit the Urgent Care ...
... for three flippin' hours ...
... in the middle of the afternoon ...
MY POOR SWEET GIRL, EMILY ...
She only needed two stitches, but still, she's bruised up pretty bad inside her lip. It makes my heart hurt when a little one gets an ooowie?
However .... I told her so.
I did.
I'll bet if she was wearing her tennis shoes ... that wouldn't have happened.
Ahem.
My youngest child is such a drama queen. She is. I'm not even remotely exaggerating. Everything she says and does is with so much emotion. The theatrics just come naturally to her ... at least I'd like to think that's what it is.
Take for example, this afternoon when I arrived at Molly's classroom to pick her up from preschool. The room was empty, so I knew they were out on the playground enjoying this gorgeous Iowa day. Before going out to retrieve her, I gathered up the papers in her "mailbox" and shoved them into her backpack. It was there, underneath her announcements and drawings, that I found a present. For me.
Dandelions.
Dead dandelions.
Like 30 of them.
All wilted and ... ugly ... and ... dead.
Knowing that she had taken the time to pick them ... every single one of them ... during one of her outings throughout the course of the day and then save them for me ... was heartwarming. It actually made me smile. Don't worry! I'm not going all soft on you, but I have to admit that EVEN I felt a bit guilty as I scooped them all up and dumped them in the trash can.
After greeting her on the play equipment outside, I decided it would be best to walk the path down to the car, rather than risk going inside and having her see my present ... safely hiding under some used paper towels ... in the garbage.
I was almost home free. We were steps from the car and then she gasped, the way only Molly can, "OH NO! I have some flowers for you!! We have to go back!"
"That is so nice of you honey! We'll get them tomorrow!" I smiled, knowing by then the dead dandelions would be the furthest thing from her four year old little mind.
"NO! I have to get them for you. They're BEAUTIFUL! You will love them!" she exclaimed, spreading her arms outward toward the sun.
It was then I decided to just be honest. A life lesson. I don't have the tolerance I once had with the older children. Ya know? Just one of the raw ends that comes with being a younger sibling.
Okay, I know I'm not fooling you. I've never had the patience for this kind of stuff. Whatever.
So ... I grabbed her hand ... "I saw your flowers you picked for me. That was so nice of you."
"Well then we have to go back and get them. We'll put them in water when we get home and they will stay on the kitchen table for everyone to smell!" she tugged on my arm encouraging me to turn back.
"Molly. They are dead. When you pick a dandelion ... they die. They only live when they are in the ground."
The tears started to flow, as only Molly can make them do on the drop of a hat, "Well ... they were the ONLY flowers I could find to pick for you. I HAD TO!" she cried.
"It's okay, the thought was very nice and I appreciate it. That was such a nice thing to do!"
"NO IT WASN'T!!! I killed them!!! I AM A FLOWER KILLER!" she started balling, with her mouth wide open. "I KILLED BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS!"
I started to pray that no one at the school could hear her and think that I was beating her or something. Seriously, it was THAT bad. I did feel horrible for her, as I know that she was trying to be kind. Once we were in the car, I said the first thing that came to my mind, "Do you want a pop when you get home?"
The tears stopped ... as quickly as they started ... and the voice that would make you think she had be trained in theater came shining through ... "Of course I do!"
Getting pop to drink at our house, for the kids, is a big deal. Huge reward. I mean, we all know I drink a boat-load of it everyday, and am a regular at the local Casey's. I even have my very own refillable cup. Oh yes, I do! But the kids very seldom get anything of the sort. It's part of my "mean routine".
So, we get home and she grabs the treat out of the fridge and runs to the table. "Can you please help me open it?" she asks in a tone so sweet I almost thought she was made of sugar.
I reached down, so thankful she was feeling better about being a demon of the dandelions, and twisted the green cap on the bottle.
It sprayed EVERYWHERE! I'm talking made a mess of all messes. It was all over the table, the chairs, the floor, the glass door ... ME! As I was running to the sink, trying to screw the cap back on, trapping the eruption of what was left in the small container ... Molly started giggling.
"Whoops! I forgot ..." she said shrugging her tiny shoulders, "You're not supposed to shake those, are you?"
So, what do YOU think? Was it payback ... or ... memory loss?
Maybe it's just me ... but I always thought that the Easter Bunny should be JUST LIKE Santa Claus. Don't you? When I say that, I mean he always knows exactly what a child wants? It's like he's a mind reader ... who knows EVERYTHING.
Right?
Obviously not!
Times must have changed without me being informed, because not only did our Easter Bunny bring my children CLOTHES ... he also messed up the sizes with two out of the four kids ... making the gifts they found in their baskets on Easter morning ... virtually useless. Unless you consider them useful in the fact they could wipe their tears with the nice, soft cotton fabric that the clothing consisted of.
Figures, eh?
Yup.
I guess I'll have to figure out where the little rabbit shops so that I can exchange his gifts for something that actually fits and can be worn. Damn bunny should have known better. What the heck is the matter with that thing? They just don't make Easter Bunnies like they used to, that's all I'm gonna say.
Anyway, we hope you all had a very Happy Easter and that YOUR Easter Bunny wasn't a complete loser like I am ours was!
