Enough Already!

Look, wasn't it enough that my BABY went to school? Did she have to go and lose teeth too??? What is with all this growing up stuff? A mom can only take so much here.

First one came out...


Then a second one. Now a third is loose.


"Mom, enough with the mouth pictures already."

Hot Rod Mama

S3 has a plan. He is saving whatever money he makes babysitting for me and mowing grass and his birthday, Christmas and report card money and he is going to buy a car. Yes, my thirteen year old is already looking for a car. He figures he's got almost enough to buy an old junker and over the next three or four years slowly get it working and looking nice so that by the time he drives, he'll have a really nice car. I think it's a great idea for lots of reasons but I won't get into that because that's not what this post is about.

Yesterday he and I were daydreaming about his car. Sometimes we daydream about the make and model but yesterday we were discussing colors. I told him I thought he aught to paint his car a nice candy-apple red with black racing stripes. He said he didn't want a red car and when I asked him why he said, "Because the police look for red cars Mom."

I decided to tease him a little so I said, "Are you planning on breaking the law?"

He said, "No."

I said, "Then it shouldn't matter if you have a red car. They can look at your red car all they want as long as you're not doing anything wrong."

He looked at me and said, "Yeah, but what if you're driving it?"

It's Official

On this very day, thirteen years ago, a little boy was placed in my arms for the very first time and I became a mother.

On this very day my baby takes his first big step into the teenaged years.


Thank you God for blessing us with thirteen years of joy. Here's to 100 more.

PS His baseball team won their first game today 7 - 6!!!

Follow Up On the Baseball Drama

I was really proud of S3; although he was really scared to do it, he talked to one of the coaches from the juniors about getting a spot on the team despite his birthdate. We heard back last night finally that S3 was not the only one who had to be cut because of his birthday and therefore they couldn't let him on the team. While we understand, we are both also disappointed. There are rumors that next year they may actually hold tryouts and cut based on skill rather than age. That would be nice but I'm not holding my breath.

Anyway I am glad that S3 worked up the nerve to say something. If nothing else I think he's walking away having learned that he didn't die just because he asked a question and the answer was no.

And in the mean time the refunded sports fee we'll be getting happens to be almost exactly what we need to buy his metal cleats for the other team. That seems like a win to me.

Uniforms, Laundry and Prepubescence

G came downstairs in her bathrobe this morning looking for clean clothes in the laundry. I do the wash on Mondays so the only clothes in the laundry right now are dirty. I said to Steve as she passed, "I wonder what she thinks she's going to find down there?" Sure enough a few minutes later she came up with her hands empty and in a very snotty tone of voice she said, "I don't have any clean uniforms because you didn't do the wash!"

Now I know for a fact:
(1) I have been doing laundry every Monday for the past six months or more.
(2) She has enough uniforms to last her nearly three weeks without me doing the laundry.

For her to say that she has zero clean uniforms because I didn't do the wash yet means she either hasn't been bringing me her dirty uniforms to be washed or she can't find where she put all the rest of her clean uniforms. But the tone of voice she used with me... I told Steve he needed to deal with her. He didn't handle her quite the way I wanted him to handle her so I went upstairs and I pulled open her drawer. It was stuffed with clean uniforms. I pulled one out and I told her to put it on and I came back downstairs. About ten minutes later she followed, wearing the uniform and bawling her eyes out. The uniform I picked out is brown and nobody in her class likes the brown uniforms. She and another girl have a contest to see who can be the prettiest every week and now she's going to lose because she looks awful.

I had to leave the room. I don't want her to feel bad about the way she looks and if she'd approached me in a different way, I'd have done whatever I could to make sure she had a blue uniform to wear but I'm not going to tolerate this finger-pointing, you-never-do-anything-for-me attitude. I told her I'm not doing her wash this week. She can do it herself or she can wear the brown uniforms in her drawer.

So much for school uniforms taking the drama out of getting dressed in the morning.

Never Say Never

You would have thought by the ripe age of 30 that I would have learned this lesson. Apparently not. I said my child would not be one of those annoying tweens with a cell phone pasted to his (or her) ear. I shoulda kept my mouth shut. The very moment I say, "No way Josè," is the very moment that my son is out at some math thing at school, ready and needing to be picked up and yet I'm sitting in a doctor's office waiting to get a cast removed and with no way to communicate with the kid. Add that to a long list of similar moments involving soccer games and basketball practices and the knowledge that baseball season is starting soon and the result is....

One annoying tween with a cell phone pasted to his ear.

Kindergarten

It's official, she's all signed up. We requested and managed to get afternoon kindy for baby-pukes-alot.

Now I think I need a tranquilizer. I can't believe my very last baby is going to kindergarten.

Super S Cubed

Last night we came home to a quiet, dark house. I set the kids to getting their school things together including packing their lunch for the next day. Ty called to me from the kitchen, "Um Mom, we have a problem!"

As it turns out, we managed to catch a mouse while we were out. I didn't even know there was a trap set. My first thought was that we were going to be doing a lot of eating out because NO WAY was I going in that kitchen with the dead mouse.

But then I asked S3 if he thought he could handle the disposal if he scooped it up in a plastic grocery bag. He replied, full of confidence, "No problem." And sure enough, he managed to get rid of the dead mouse easily. My Hero! Moments like that make me so glad to have a pre-teen boy.

Speaking of pre-teens, I was marveling to myself when I got the mail today. We've lived in this house for about eight years now, since S3 was three years old. Wayne has been our mailman ever since day one. We used to get Nick Jr. Magazine then it was the Lego Magazine. Now we get Game Informer and CCS. I wonder sometimes if Wayne looks at what he's delivering and marvels at the growing up being done in our house. I know I sure do!