My list-ish

In waltzed another year.  Just like that. 

If it weren't for hubby I would have spent it curled up on the couch in jammies, my fingers firmly wrapped around a mug of peppermint coffee with my daughter by my side deciding which musical to watch on netflix. 

Instead we bundled up and went to a block party downtown Tempe by ASU and had a blast listening to live music, watching fireworks and pretending it was midnight at nine because I had to work the next day. 

It's times like that, in the middle of hugging my kids as we usher in the new year while toasting with teeny cups of apple cider that I'm so thankful that I have a husband who stretches me to go do more.  Or quite literally in his words "Go put pants on, I'm not staying here tonight." 

And I'm not usually a "resolutioner".  I mean why wait until the new year to make a resolution.  Just do it when the fancy strikes.  But I've been thinking about it lately.  Maybe because everyone has been asking me what mine are and that has put the cogs to spinning.  So, in the spirit of, well, shutting people up and also wanting to see it written down, here are my resolutions:

1.  Play with my kids more.  Like actual games.  That involve using my brain and also my hands.  Learn how to play the video games the boys love so when they rant about them I will have some idea what they are talking about.

2.  Not fight with my daughter when I do her hair. 

3.  Cook more meals that involve spatulas and more than four ingredients.  And also stop telling my family when I substitute ground turkey for other meats.  It somehow ruins the magic.

4.  Take more walks with hubby that involve less spatulas.  Wait.  More walks that involve less time talking about money and more time just listening to each other's hearts. 

5.  Let Aliya listen to her music as loud as she wants to on the way to school even though I really want to have meaningful heart to heart chats.  At least a couple days a week.  I have to start off slow. 

6.  While on the subject of music, I will try exceptionally hard not to cringe with my whole body when hubby plays Red Hot Chili Peppers and I will attempt to make my smiles seem genuine.  Even though it takes every ounce of energy not to bang my head through a pane glass window and stab the shards of glass through my ears to make the sound stop.  But hey, that might just be me. 

7.  Music continued, I will find some really great music this year.  That you don't hear on the radio. 

8.  I will attempt to be Jesus with skin on.  And I will fail so please remember to have grace. 

9.  I want to hang out with my sister way more.  And take that trip with my best friend. 

10.  I'm not going to do a number 10.  Because I feel like that might bother some people and sometimes we just have to get under people's skin.  As a matter of principle. 

PS
If you are a Red Hot Chili Pepper fan and I have offended you...good.  Take this as your wake up call.  Get a new band.  They suck.  A lot.  Respect yourself more than that. 

Dressing rooms are evil, evil places of florescent light horridness and three way mirror doomery. And yes that's totally a word.

Actual conversation with daughter with limited altering.  Okay so I can't remember everything that was said word for word but this is the jist.  Stop being a jerk. 

Me:  Well crap, my thutt is out of control again.

Aliya: Do I even want to know?

Me: You know.  My thigh/butt.  Thutt.

Aliya: ....

Me:  And just look at it in these jeans, it's like the people who make these things are just trying to make me cry.

Aliya:  I think they cute on you.

Me:  Oh and I'm suposed to just pretend the thutt doesn't exist?! It cannot be ignored!

Aliya:.....

Me:  Hey!  If I stand like this you can't see it! 

Aliya: Only....real people don't walk like that, so....

Me:  The thutt has disappeared! 

Aliya:  Are you seriously going to walk like that for the rest of the day because if so tell me now....

Me:  {standing normal} thutt {standing with knees bent, butt out} no thutt!!  I've discovered the secret to the universe!

Aliya:  Really mom?  The universe?  You are seriously so weird.

Me:  Is this why really old people walk all hunched over? 

Aliya:  Yes.  Yes, and they just love staring at their nice velcro shoes too.

Me:  Someday you will thank me for the disapearing thutt idea but I'll be on to something else more awsome and maybe I won't share it with you. 

{I mean honestly.  Some moms don't even take their daughters into the dressing room to hold their stuff and give proper compliments.  Only I need a whole lot less eye rolling from now on.} 

I'm all about the beard.

So I heard in November that men were not shaving for like colon cancer or something.  I think.

Solidarity for manliness. 

Well my man is ahead of the curve in that he's had his beard for quite a while now.  Going on like two years or something.  I'm trying really hard not to jinx it here.  Not that I believe in that but if I did I don't want to accidentally do that by writing about it and then have him be all "Meh, I don't like the beard" and then I would get really stabby and it would not end well. 

You see when he shaves he becomes someone I don't recognize and I can't sleep with someone I don't recognize.  I don't sleep with strangers because, obviously. 

Only he doesn't understand how my mind can get amnesia over facial hair being gone but I'm sorry, I can't control how my mind works. 

It's like I go to sleep and forget for a blissful seven hours and then have that unfortunate lapse in memory for three seconds when I turn for the morning greeting, open my eyes, and suddenly I'm reminded of the clean shaven face and I scream in slow motion NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! as I back away from whoever this strange man is in my bed while I frantically search my memory for who could have kidnapped hubby and replaced him with a pretty spot on look-a-like but you are not fooling me beardless guy!

See.  No control of that.

In the end he needs to realize that he just looks down right good in it and the beard is hot and if there were something on me that he liked that much you better believe it would stay.

Colon cancer or not.

Even though I'm totally against colon cancer and think it should die.

shopping, shmopping

So, Christmas is next week and I have no shopping done and the internet keeps reminding me of this in really big shouty caps and bright red judgy letters. 

But my question is, internet, do you even remember what we got our kids last year?  Yeah, I thought not. 

And what you don't remember is sitting in the garage not getting used. 

So, this year they are getting {one} thing from us. 

It will be awesome and just what they asked for but one thing because in the end when all the other presents from grandparents and aunts and uncles and friends add up what we are left with is a pile of things that will eventually end up in the garage with all the other things.

And I'm not saying that buying gifts for your kids is in any way wrong, we've just gone overboard for many, many years. 

So this year we're taking a step back.  And our bank account is taking a sigh of relief. 

Stop yelling at me internet!  I know what I'm doing! 

{Pttss.  Don't worry Zoe.  You have exactly zero things and I plan to remedy that.  I mean every cat needs a hat right?  Obviously.} 

loss

Looking at my last post in light of recent events in Connecticut, it seems just plain petty.  And even though {I hope} you all know that I'm just being silly on this blog, if being slightly annoyed in the parent pick up line is the only thing I have to worry about at my child's school then I count myself very fortunate. 

My heart breaks for those parents who lost a child as I cannot fathom losing one of mine.  And I know that there are so many words being said so mine will mingle with those being tossed around in the sea of trite things people say when a loved one is lost. 

My only hope is that through this tragedy there will be some who will seek Jesus.  Actually I hope many will seek him. 

And that they will let him be like warm salve to dry aching wounds. 

And when my heart wants to cry out and question "why" he reminds me that we live in a fallen world with free will and that this is not my home. 

And everyday I will cherish the time he lets me be mom to three amazing kids. 

A post wherin I vent about random crap that probably shouldn't bother me. But does.

At an early age we are taught certain social norms. 

One of these norms is "stand in line".  We have added to that "don't cut in line", "stay in line", "don't place hold" and so on. 

And it's not like I'm against this rule in general.  In fact, just try to cut me off on the highway or better yet while waiting in the return isle at Wal-Mart.  It's a side of me I'm trying to tame.  But there is one place that I fight against this part of our society with every fiber of my being. 

Daymon's parent pick up line. 

I'm telling you, given the choice of that line and shaving my legs with a chainsaw, pass the box of band aids. 

Most of you may be thinking that the parent pick up line is equivalent to kittens licking you.  I agree, if those kittens then smirk manically right before they sink little baby needle sharp teeth into you. 

First of all they start lining up at 2:00.  His school gets out at 2:40.  Why is this necessary?  Like, at all?  Because if you don't you will get completely hosed.  But this is where commitment comes in to play.  How willing are you to sit there in the hot Arizona sun and bake for forty minutes just to be one of the elite first in line?

Second there are the few special crazies who have their "spots" and apparently you don't mess with them.  Because they have like marked them with their pee or something.  I have witnessed two very large men get out of their cars and yell in each others faces over this.  Lame. 

There are a couple of large trees that line one of the areas and provide some shade.  IF you are fortunate enough to get one of these coveted spaces before anyone else these people simply don't pull forward.  They just sit there and make people go around them because obviously shade is more important than basic human decency. 

Third, there is a merging lane and no one seems to be able to figure out.  I go.  You go.  I go.  You go.  Not really that complicated in my mind and yet.  It's more like You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you for the love of all things purple please let me go before my brain implodes! 

I've tried coming in from the other side where the merging takes place and I had a woman get out of her car and yell at me saying I couldn't be there.  I do not get it.  I think she was just mad she didn't think of it first.

Do you see the field there?  Daymon has on many occasion spotted me from across the field and taken it upon himself to relieve me of the line and to just walk across that small-ish field to the car.  I have absolutely no problem with this at all.  When you get to the front there is no one out there monitoring who goes home with who anyway so it's not like he's being signed out.  However, this bothers other parents for some reason.  Not teachers, just parents.  So a few have taken it upon themselves to "chat" with him about it.  I do not take kindly to this.  So I tell them "I've got it, he's fine, if you have something to say please say it to me, not him."  Insert super smiley grin from ear to ear.  They usually just glare and walk off. 

Okay, so I have vented.  Now let me tell you about Dylan's parent pick up line.

It's freaking fantastic.

His school is literally next door so I'm not sure where the disconnect is but here's my theory.

I think that all the parents like me who have had or do have kids in elementary school and are so completely driven out of their minds by the "normal" parent pick up line that a mass unifying happened combining all of our mutual loathing of "I saw it first, it's mine!" mentality that we all just sort of freaked out and went all "Lord of the Flies" on middle school pick up. 

There is no rhyme.  There is no reason. 

You show up alert and ready for action.  You don't mess around and it's pretty much a free for all.  You see an opening you take it.  Like now.  I know you need your kid, you know I need my kid, let's work together and make it happen.  Yes, I cut you off, and possibly three other people to do it, but tomorrow you'll cut me off and I won't hate you for it.  Everyone smiles and waves, often right before an awesome maneuver of pure driving genius, and then we get our kid and move on with our day. 

It kind of restores my faith in humanity.  In that maybe we're not all complete morons. 

Maybe next everyone will be able to figure out the four way stop.  But I know that's asking a lot. 

Hubby was gone, I didn't blog. Or do anything else for that matter.

Hubby just got back last night from Cairo. 

Which means I've spent pretty much two weeks with my kids agreeing that indeed coco puffs are acceptable for dinner and becoming a little too intimate with Netflix. 

I just sort of fall into this odd state of "whatever-ness" mixed in with mad cleaning/projects when he travels.

Some days we don't change out of our jammies and we eat pancakes and eggs for dinner because hubby thinks it's an abomination to eat breakfast foods any other time of day but that's just simply ridiculous.  Everyone knows those things taste better at night.   After doing a whole lot of nothing all day.
Other days I make them clean up large quantities of dog poop in the back yard.  While saying things like "Oh you want to complain about this?  Okay, let's just put your list next to my list and see who does more around here."
It can be a very confusing time for them.

On a side note Zoe was trapped in the garage overnight and I know she pooped in there because I could smell it I just couldn't find it but then it stopped smelling.  So I guess...problem solved!

Do you even remember a time when I didn't discuss poop on my blog?  Me neither.

But the thing is, when hubby is around he kind of forces me through association to be social. 

It really is a lot of fun living with me.  I alternate between being a hermit, not to be confused with being a hobbit, and then wanting all my friends around me at once.  Like in a high concentrated dose where I get all jittery on their awesomeness and then can't sleep all night because I replay every possibly stupid thing I said. 

You should feel very bad for hubby. 

He gets to listen to me get all teary about how I don't want to go out because the thought of people is just too much and in the next sentence I'm upset about why doesn't anyone call and invite us out tonight?  What's wrong with us?  Don't they like us? 

Seriously, give him a hug the next time you see him.

It's probably good he only goes for two weeks at a time because that way moss doesn't start to grow on me.  And the kids get better food.  There are only so many times you can give your kids pizza before CPS gets involved. 

Although I'm pretty sure Costco wouldn't be allowed to sell it if it weren't food and they seem okay to me and besides someday they'll go off to college and have a really good head start on how to survive for at least two weeks on Ramen noodles and Progresso soup.  They may even help save other lives.

It's the least I can do.