The Shoe Shop of Doom!

This weekend my son had a growth spurt. Not the normal one where he grows a little at a time but one where he woke up in the morning and nothing fit. Not his underwear, pants or even his shoes. So my Sunday was spent running around with a four year and my 17 month old trying to buy a whole new wardrobe. We were doing OK until we hit the shoe shop.

The shoe shop is my traditional place of hell. I am not one of those women who lust after shoes. I hate them and more than hating shoes I hate shopping for them. As a kid my mother and I always had our most impressive fights in the shoe shop. I vividly recall her threatening me with a pair of high heeled shoes as she waved it above my head and not so calmly discussed my dating choices.

So we got to the shoe shop and B immediately went for the pink light up Hannah Montana shoes.

I want these mommy.

Sorry sweety I said calmly putting them back and looking at the boys shoes, We need to find shoes that you can wear to shoes. These brown ones are nice.

NOOOOO!!!!! I want the Hannah Montana shoes! I WANT EM! I DO MOMMYYYYY!!!!

But sweety...

Suddenly I was hit in the head by a pair of red pump.

Hannah Montana Mommy!!!!!

A pair of spiked boots came flying at my head.

My little S was armed and was lobbing shoes at my head as fast as a malfunctioning batting cage.

NOT THE BROWN ONES!!!!! I WANT PINK!!!!!!!!

I ducked as a pair of ballet flats connected with my head.

Not the brown mommy!!! NO!!!!! I WANT THE PINK LIGHT UP HANNA MONTANA SHOES! NOW!!!!!! WAAAA!!!!!!!!

I picked up my children one under each arm and ran up the stairs to the check out (Yes the sadists keep the children's section in the basement) leaving the wreckage and the pink light up Hanna Montana shoes and a pile of shoe missiles behind us.

He better not grow anymore for a while otherwise we will be practicing the art of foot binding...or my husband can take them. Either one.

I Saw It

I did it I joined the ranks of millions of teenage girls and I rented Twilight. I could only watch first half but I think being exposed to that film for a good hour makes me a total expert in teenage girls and today's youth. This is what I've discovered about the youth of today.

Teen aged girls love boys with waxed eye brows this is also true of the Jonas brothers who my husband went to the bathroom with and found himself totally intimidated by their scarily perfect eyebrows.

Teen aged girls do not suddenly discover their hip hurts while they are watching the movie and excuse themselves at totally the best part to pop Advil and grab a heating pad

Teen aged girls love boys with lots and lots of make up including eye brow pencil, lots of mascara and plenty of lipstick.

Teen agers are still as mopey and distant as I was when I was 17.

Teen aged girls need to be locked away until adult hood for their own good because not only do they always want the boy who is the worst choice (I mean the guys dead and has to stop himself from eating her or goodness sake) but they go out with guys who are way too old for them (Like 130 years to old for them. What do these two have to talk about anyway? She grew up watching Dora and he grew up watching fire. I'm sure these two would have some really fascinating conversations)

Teen aged girls do not stop the movie when Edward and Bella are holding hands and he 's a glowy and cute and go to bed at 9pm cause they have a big day tomorrow

So that is my take on todays youth. Excuse me while I skip the rest of the film and go find the strongest lock made to get ready for Little S teen age years.

It All Starts Here

Today's the day in 15 min I leave to register my Little B in kindergarten. I didn't sleep at all last night. Instead of catching some zzz instead I chose to freak out. As I lay there time began to speed up. First B was in kindergarten cute and little holding my hand. Then I sped right past first grade second grade. In fact I zipped past middle school entirely and found myself slamming into his high school years.

I saw B as a surly teenager. Where all he did was hang out with his friends play video games and was hell to be around. I found myself questioning everything. Will he hate me will he be as bad as I was at that age? Will he never snuggle with me again?

And then when he finally recovers from his teenage years I wont be able to reap the benefits. Because then he'll find his life partner and he'll just call me every once in a while when he feels guilty and I will just miss him so much my heart will break.

So I guess I am officially a mess. So here I go setting my child on the road to life.

I need a hug...

or a big sandwich

Tooting the Night Horn

Last night I was sleeping quietly when what sounded like a loud car back fire woke me up. I sat up in bed wondering what was going on was it a car a gun the start of some night time race when I heard it again. This time it was clear that was no car back firing that was the sound of the passing of some serious wind. I looked accusingly at my hubby as he slept on as innocent as a lamb.

Well! I thought there goes the romance. We've never been the kind of couple to cut the cheese freely in front of one another. We've never even used the bathroom in front of one another and as far as I know he may have never answered natures call in his life. (Hey don't judge. After witnessing child birth twice you do what you can to keep the mystery alive.)

I was catapulted out of my thoughts when suddenly it sounded. The passing of wind this time as a long scary musical note followed by some little toots and a loud thunderous clap.

I was shocked. It came form the wrong direction. It was near my side of the bed. I looked around for someone else to blame.

There's no dog anymore it couldn't be him.

Is it me?

Am I the nocturnal farter? Am I the one tooting the night horn?

Once again the bottom trumpet was sounded.. and it wasnt me of that I was sure. I felt no rumbling, no gust of air. It was... the baby monitor.

My beautiful little S was the midnight tooter. Yes my tiny little girl was sleeping bottom up and was creating such a noise that even my son stirred.

Strangly enough I found I was proud. Yup, my little girl may be tiny, she may not even be on the weight and height charts but her powerful gas cried out I am here! I count! I am a powerful gassy being!

Hey, I'm a mom I take pride where I can get it...shesh

The Beast Returns

The evil beast that had previously possessed my son seems to have jumped ship and is now residing in my daughter. I began to realize it during the last few days when she began throwing temper tantrums of such magnitude that even dogs stop and stare at my daughters high pitched shenanigans.

A wonderful example of this was yesterday at work. Work is tense to say the least. Parents are loosing their jobs by the dozens and tempers are high. It was the end of a particularly tense day and I was very glad to be on my way home. Little S toddled out of her classroom looking so cute with a big smile of her face. I gave her a hug and when I went to put on her coat the beast emerged.

She began screaming and kicking and crying and howling. I put her down on the floor and the real show began. She arched her back, kicked and flailed. Parents craned their necks to see who the bad parent was with the insane child and low and behold it was me. Dr. Mom who is supposed to be a child expert helplessly watching her daughter go insane in the hallway. Even B stood watching his mouth open in awe and horror at the beast which used to be his sister.

Now I'm just waiting for the projectile vomiting and her using telepathy to push a man of the cloth out the window and well be all set.

My Daughter Has Skills

I don't know if I should write about this but I am impressed with my daughters ingenuity. So please dear readers do not be offeneded but as you know my kids are a little on the gross side.

Dinner was not a big success at my house last night. After they were done throwing the dinner of rice and sloppy Joe's around the cries of I'm still hungry echoed through my kitchen. In response I gave my son and daughter four pretzels each (a very big treat). They were thrilled and ran around in pretzel joy.

After a little while it was bath time. Little S stood up and looked very uncomfortable and started crying and patting herself. Finally she sat down and plop plop plop the pretzels popped to the surface. Apparently she had stored her pretzels for later like a little drug mule. Don't ask me how she did it. But yes she did. She grabbed the pretzels and shoved them in her mouth and was very unhappy with the results.


Well with the way her college fund is doing these days I think training in the drug mule business might not be such a bad idea. Hey at least she has skills.

My Eye Hurts

My eye hurts. I don't know why. I just woke just this morning and there it was stinging away. Now I am not the sort of person to get crazy about small things. I'm just a go with the flow type of gal. Its a good thing I'm not one of those crazy nuts who blow everything out of proportion because if I was these are some things I might have thought happened to my peeper:

1. I was abducted by aliens and they implanted a chip in my eye so they could find me later. Hey its better than the anal probe.
2. I scratched my eye during a fight with a vampire. After the fight my memory was erased so I would not tell anyone of their secret lair.
3. I'm actually a super hero while I sleep and I wear colored contacts to hide my secret identity. They make my eyes ache sometimes but saving those puppies and seven babies was totally worth it.
4. During the night a fertile bug deposited eggs in my Corina. In a few weeks they will hatch like the movie aliens and take over the earth
5. I'm possessed and the demon is trying to get out through my eye
6. The kids did something bad bad bad
   
7. Because of fear of the recession unbeknowst to me my hubby rents out my eyes while I sleep to make some extra cash. The person who used it last night was not careful and scratched it He will not be getting his security deposit back.

Its probably nothing. I'll just be wearing tin foil on my head and locking my door at night until I know for sure.

It Just Might Make Me Grumpy

I hate daylight savings time. Its disturbing. Getting up at 5:40am when you know its really 4:30am just throws me and makes me grumpy.

You know what else is disturbing and makes me grumpy. Going to your regular Mexican fast food joint and as you order seeing a toddler in a pink princess dress wandering through the kitchen on the other side of the cash register.

You know what make me even more grumpy is realizing that that toddler in the pink princess dress is your baby who your husband is supposed to be watching while you get the food.

Not that that happened on Sunday. Not my husband no way! He would never fail to realize that his baby in the pink princess dress had left the table wandered into a restaurant kitchen causing kitchen wide panic as the restaurant workers tried to stop my little girl from making her way to a large vat of guacamole in the back of the kitchen to stick her hand in it. Nor would he ever completely forget that we have two children who need consent supervision and become so engrossed in a set of instructions to build a balsa wood airplane that he would allow both children to wander freely through out the restaurant giving his son time to shove eight lemon slices with rind into his mouth while no one watched.

That same man would not look at me shrug and say I thought you had it covered. Nope cause that would make me mighty grumpy. Uh huh....

Where Out Thou Oh Hoagie?

Its sad I am truly obsessed with a sandwich. I think about it all of the time I even dream about it. Its not just any sandwich its an Italian Hoagie from my home town of Philadelphia.

The anti kosher nastiness that makes you feel bloated for hours afterwards. It stains your clothes and makes your breath smell bad. But its so worth it. I've been obsessed with men I did the teenage stalking thing but this this is different. This sandwich has invaded my thoughts, my dreams. Any food does not hold a candle to it.

Why not just eat one you may ask? Because my sandwich is 97.12 miles away (Yes I map quested it). I tried to bribe my Dad who lives in Philly to fed ex me the sandwich he laughed and explained the bread would never hold up. I explained to him I would take that risk but alas no. No sandwich will be forthcoming.

I guess the fact I am dieting has something to do with it. Nothing that hasn't been weighed measured critiqued and fussed over ever enters my stomach. But this sandwich with its mayonnaise and vinegar soaked bread would have me throwing my scales and measuring cups out the window if only for a moment of its time.

I mean just look at it.

Its tempting luncheon meat, its soggy soaked bread. Who wouldn't rather spend a good 10 min with this sandwich than doing any thing else. Yes you heard me right I would rather have 10 min alone with this sandwich than 10 min alone with Brad Pitt (Unless he was holding this sandwich during that time for me to snack upon).

I don't think I have ever been this obsessed with food let alone a sandwich. I wish I could forget, think about something else. But alas it is no use.

So unless Brad shows up soon my Dad gives in and mails me sandwich or the tooth fairy stops delivering quarters and leaves a sandwich under my pillow instead I guess I am doomed to eat my diet food and wait until I can see my love again...someday.

A Blood Thirsty Sandwich

I planned to blog about my favorite sandwich the Philadelphia hoagie which I am now truly obsessing on. Yes I think about this sandwich I dream about it. It has taken over my mind. I mean look at this thing.

But this morning something so crazy, so mind bending occurred that the sandwich actually took a back seat and instead I will blog about my sweet little blood thirsty child named Little S.

Yes this morning I learned that my beautiful little S is a horrible hulking monster. Yes a snarling beast. You may think I am exaggerating or being a bad mom but you did not witness the rage fulled babyness which I call S.

I began innocently enough it was a normal Wednesday. We had arrived at school and S was covered in snot. You see S has a perpetual runny nose. She is very cute but is constantly dripping snot. When it gets really bad she points to the snot and says eyes eyes eyes until someone hands her a tissue (Yes she is a little confused but she's 16 months hopefully by the times she's in high school she will have gotten this one straight)

So she's walking around the classroom saying eyes and I give her big brother B a tissue to hand to her. Instead of giving her the tissue he holds it over her head and starts to mock her eyes eyes he says in a baby voice. S leaps for it but she is too short. She shreiks she whines. She squeezes her little fists together but nothing seems to work.

Suddenly she lunges at her brother locking her teeth into his back. The next thing I know she is crying and biting and snotting on him. I pull her off of him and she lunges again biting into his back once again. I pry her little mouth off of him. She is wild and flailing trying to take a hunk out of her brother. She is out for blood and hysterical. Limbs flaying I take her out of the room. She is sobbing shouting eyes eyes and gnashing her little teeth together. After several minutes of hysteria she starts to calm down. I hand her a tissue and she looks up at me smiling and says Tank oo (S for thank you) in her sweet little baby voice.

I am not fooled. Today I have learned my baby is a vicious blood thirsty child....

I still want that sandwich though.

Snow Day

Its a snow day and instead of being asleep in my cosy bed I pushed my stroller through the fresh snow sweating and grunting along the way and lugged my family to work. Why you may ask? Good question. Well,I needed to let everyone know school was closed, feed the hamsters and fish and return a few emails...

OK that's all an excuse.

Here the truth Ruth.

The idea of spending another full day with my wonderful little kiddies alone trapped alone in the house for the day put me in such a panic I would have gotten here if giants had been lobbing boulders from the sky. I would have lugged my stroller here if bats had filled the street with a sea of guano.

Yup, its true.

I know I will have to go home eventually. I know I will have to face the stir crazy kids who will become truly scary at 4pm when the idea of spending one more hour with each other and me will make them scarier than a cat in a washing machine, then a four day old tuna fish sandwich in July then Dolly Parton first thing in the morning with no make up (sorry Dolly).

I know. I fear.

But for now...I have work to do.