Shit my kids said this week

Anyone who has ever spent any time with kids will tell you that they can say some pretty F*^%ed up S#%6 intresting things. Here are a few of our more memorable conversations that we have had this week.

Over the course of several days I rounded up my 3 boys and husband for haircuts. I got out our trusty clippers and found a board on pintrest that taught me the proper way to use the clippers (big ahhh haaaa moment) Giving little boys a haircut can be a freaking nightmare.  surprisingly 3-year-old Noah was one of the easiest. Sawyer on the other hand not so much, he needed to be threatened convinced to comply.

Me-” Sawyer you NEED a haircut! I will NOT have you going around looking like a poor little ragamuffin whose parents can’t even afford to give you a decent hair cut!”

Sawyer “Mom! why can’t we just go to the salon!” ( we have a very nice one a hop skip and jump from our house)

Me “No Sawyer! you know we can’t afford that shit!”

at this point he gives me “the look” like really mom? and we both know how stupid i sound but he values his 5-year-old life too much to mention it 🙂

Adrianna over one of our delightful dinner conversations demanded to know exactly how old I was when I got pregnant for Kimberly. This is obviously a source of embarrassment but I try to be honest with my children. Big mistake. I should have just lied until they decided to do the math by themselves. Adrianna then informed me, and I quote “If you were my child I would have tied you up to the bed and beat you for that!” well I’m glad this little nazi is my child not my parent! sheesh

While reprimanding my darling 12-year-old son Evan for laughing at my weakness while I struggled to lift a heavy log i laid into him with the whole “I gave birth to you speech” saying “listen here! I am much tougher then I look! You know I had without any pain medication!”

Then Kimberly quipped “yeah Evan, you know Mom pulled you out herself right?”

me-” Yes Evan I reached down, grabbed ahold of you and pulled you out myself!”

To which my darling son for some reason was completely horrified said ‘What is WRONG WITH YOU????? NO WONDER I”M IN SPECIAL CLASSES!!!”

I just rolled my eyes at that one, it’s not like i dropped him or anything! (that was Kimberly, but we don’t talk about that, I just shake my head sadly at her lack of coordination which *might* be related to the before mentions incident)

Let it go…….(The mommy guilt)

This year I decided to give myself a gift. The best gift ever. It doesn’t vibrate, disinfect anything, or cut my cooking time in half. It won’t get me better organized or help me lose that last 10 pounds of baby weight that’s clinging  to my midsection tighter than Rose hung onto that floating slab of wood at the end of Titanic (climb aboard Jack these plenty of room for you over here!) This year I have decide to let myself off the hook. I am no longer going to try to be a perfect mom because its freaking killing me. I can not do it. I can not scour pintrest for little crafts, make every Holiday magical, keep them entertained,with some brain stimulating activity 24/7, keep them perfectly disciplined so that they NEVER disrespect me but be oh so very careful to do it gently so that I do not emotionally scar them for life…….I can not feed them some free range-100%-GMO free -organic-sugar-free-non-processed-specially-hand-crafted meals 3 times a Day.

Food is a big one for me. Every meal is a huge quilt inducing exercise to the extreme that just proves to me what a terrible, mother/human being I am. I carefully find recipes, shop, cook and sever my family healthy delicious meals only to be ridiculed by my husband and kids. “yuck!” “what is that!” “I don’t like that!” oh the horror. Forcing my precious darlings to endure my home cooked meals.  well tell you what you can all eat shit out of a can from now on!  WOOOOHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! freedom! bring on the processed food! This mom is done and I’m not going to feel guilty about it at all.

If its raining out and the kids want to spend a day watching some marathon TV well guess what, they can rot their little brains out! If its nice out I’m kicking their little butts outside to play *gasp* unsupervised. I know, I know, they might fall and scrap a knee, break a bone or need to get stitches.At least they will have an interesting story to tell. I know you are all shaking your heads, clutching your pearls and weeping for my poor family.

Please don’t. Don’t feel bad for my family. My kids might grow a third eye from the corn out of a can I’m going to feed them, we might get dirty looks when I take them out in public and one has a dirty face, one doesn’t have combed hair and a 3rd is wearing miss matched shoes. (because I’m giving up on trying to keep them looking perfect all the time too) What my kids are going to get is a less stressed out Mom. They are going to get a Mom who is going to focus on herself, her family and slowly learn to not care of what kind of Mom she looks like.  They are going to get a happier Mom.

For a long time  Now the standard of what a good Mother is in my mind just keeps climbing year after year  and I am always so many steps behind. Its like climbing a ladder chasing after a donuts that’s on rung number 12 (don’t ask my why we have donuts on a ladder, I just like donuts. It’s an analogy, go with it) Once I get to rung number 12 I realize the donuts has been moved to rung number 20. The standard keeps getting higher and higher and i just keep failing. So I am dropping out of the race. It’s not going to be easy. So much of my day-to-day is wrapped up with me feeling guilty. Now I’m not saying were going to go total “lord of the flies” around here. What I’m saying is I’m going to learn HOW to cut myself some slack. The instant I became pregnant with my first child I was being judged as a Mom. I knew I was too young, I had no business becoming a Mother and everyone was waiting for me to screw it up. I was so desperate to prove I was good enough, I came up with an image in my head of what I thought I should be. Now years later we have social networking.  Everyday its a constant bombardment of what people think others should be doing and how they should be doing it. Everyone shows their best selves and its easy to forget its a carefully constructed illusion.

No one is freaking perfect. Come on, be honest how many of you kick the clutter out-of-the-way before you post a picture of your kids on Face Book? No one takes a picture of the hot dogs and mac N cheese they fed their kids for lunch and proudly display it with a cute little caption! We don’t because we don’t want people to see out messy houses or our processed food. Why? I think we are all afraid of being judged and falling short. We all love our kids so much we would hate for someone to think we are doing a crappy job.

I will never be a perfect Mom. I will be and OK Mom. and I’m going to learn to be OK with that.

Conversations with Adrianna

Adrianna, also known as “AJ” is smart, perceptive and sometimes a little too precocious for her own good. Her curiosity keeps me on my toes. The following are a few conversations and observations with AJ I snagged off my previous facebook post and complied into one place. Enjoy!

listening to AJ sing “little bunny foo foo” to her little sister, which is really cute until she gets to the end and changes the lyrics to “And then the good fairy came down and said GIVE ME A BEER! ”

Adrianna-” Daddy is doing funny stuff with some girl on his phone”
after a brief investigation “AJ, its called Siri….and lets not repeat that”

Trying to explain the age difference between me and my little sister Sarah Anne to Adrianna.
AJ_ “Ok so you’re the Adult and Aunt Sarah is a teenager”
me- ” No sweetie your Aunt Sarah is an Adult too”
AJ in total disbelief “REALLY????…hu, she doesn’t seem like one”

Adrianna on “twerking” – “That is gross and disgusting, I would never do that. You look like an animal trying to find a mate”

Adrianna– ” Everyone made me mad today at school. They were mean to me, and kept touching my stuff so I got back at them. I went in the bathroom, took a huge dump and I didn’t flush”

Adrianna comes up to me this morning and says ” I want you to cut my hair, I know you are not a professional so it doesn’t have to be perfect, but you better not mess it up so bad that I need to wear a hat. Maybe you can watch a YouTube video”

Adrianna want some money so I offered her extra chores. She whined, she wanted something EASY to do. I explained to her that’s not how it works, and when shes an adult she is going to have to work hard for her money…….her response- “weeeellllllll I’m pretty sure my husband is going to have a job, you don’t work and you have money”

during dinner tonight .
Adrianna– “Mommy, when am I going to get a but?” she than stands up, turns around and starts waving her rear end around “I mean LOOK at this flat thing!”

Adrianna explaining Cholos to Sawyer -“there are some girls who are born without eyebrows so they have to take a sharpie and draw some on”

Kimberly -“I wish we had 100 babies!”
Adrianna-” No! Mommy doesn’t have enough boobies for that!”

one of the Teachers asked Adrianna if her baby sister cried much and she told them “Only when she wants my Moms boobs, if fact she doesn’t even like my Mom much, just her boobs”

Everyday we are one day closer to our death”- tonights uplifting comment brought to you courtesy of Adrianna

Purple penis! Purple Penis! Purple Penis!

My girls jumped ship this weekend. Kimberly (14) and Adrianna (who is 8 on the outside, but I swear is an 80-year-old Jewish woman on the inside, however that’s another story) both left to spend time with friends. The boys felt rather abandoned. My kids are pretty close, they play together all the time (they fight all the time too) but They spend the majority of their time running around together in a pack. Having their normal routine upset the boys were not happy. Sawyer grilled me on when Kimberly was coming home. Not satisfied with my answer of “soon” he gravely shook his head while walking away and *sighed* “If she’s not back in a few hours were giving her up for dead” Evan (12) upon hearing that Adrianna was sleeping out at her friends exclaimed “They have betrayed us!” Noah (3)decided to express himself through performance art!

Noah had gone up to his room for some quite time, I went to check on him and found him in his sisters bed asleep.  He was on his stomach, head turned away from me, and covered up. I let him stay there until dinner time when I asked my husband to go wake him up.

Now anyone who has ever had a 3-year-old boy knows several things. most of them hate clothing,require constant supervision. Also as much as they hate clothing they love their “boy bits” never missing an opportunity to grab a hold and make sure it’s still there.

When my husband returned down stairs with my darling son draped across his shoulder It was not surprise to me he was bottomless. I was however surprised to see purple marker scribbled all down his leg. “wait till you see this!” my husband said as he turned around so I could see Noah’s face. It was scribbled in purple marker in such a way i wondered if he had been inspired by watching brave heart. My husband then turned Noah around to face me and held him in a “chair sitting” position. It was at that moment that things began to descend into chaos. I  noticed right away thatmy sons “boy bits” were scribbled all over in purple marker. “his penis is purple!” I yelled

my 5 year old son hearing his favorit word began running around the house shouting at the top of his lungs

“PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS!PURPLE PENIS!”

My 12 year old son hearing all the commotion ran into the kitchen to see what was going on. The 5 year old, Sawyer is still running around the house screaming

“PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS!PURPLE PENIS!”

Noah is once again resting on his Dads shoulder with his butt facing us when Evan enters the kitchen. My husband tells him what Noah has done and jokingly tells him not to get too close as Noah was bottomless and to watch out for his “brown eye” ( meanwhile Sawyer is still running and shouting)

“PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS!PURPLE PENIS!”

At this point Evan screams “ITS NOT A BROWN EYE! ITS PURPLE!”

Sawyer hearing the word purple begins screaming with renewed force

“PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS! PURPLE PENIS!PURPLE PENIS!”

My son. My darling sweet little boy for reasons unknown to anyone put a purple marker in between his little butt cheeks and colored his ass hole purple. I can only hope that he scribbled on his face before deciding to stick a marker up his ass.

Noahs face, because this is all I can show you

Noah’s face, because this is all I can show you

Concentrating on the cream pie

My youngest is sick. The Doctor says “Double ear infection” She also has a lot of post nasal drip that causes her to cough and (thanks to her having her fathers gag reflex) subsequently puke. She does this ALL. NIGHT. LONG.  So for the past 4 nights. Just when I get her settled and start to doze off it begins again. As you can imagine I’m a bit exhausted   delirious with exhaustion.

While I’m awake my mind starts to wander and these little gems popped into my head. You know what analogy sums up motherhood perfectly? Its like eating the most decadent desert  in the entire world with one hand (which for me would be some sort of peanut butter  chocolate cream pie)  while wiping your ass with the other. Literally the most wonderful delicious part of life combined with the most disgusting but necessary parts of life. and while your going through it you just hope the smell of your cream pie will over power the smell of your shit. Concentrate on your cream pie! It will get you though the diarrhea parts of life. When you are at your lowest points in motherhood wadding thought the sewer remember there is cream pie at the end of the tunnel.

Its like being the only sober person at a wild frat house party

My mornings. ohhhhhhh my delightful mornings. When I was a young Teenager I would enjoy getting up early on school days, sipping my coffee in the early morning light while I contemplated my life’s mysteries and what direction I was headed (we didn’t have google back then or else I totally would have googled that shit)

That of course was many years and many children ago. My mornings are no longer quite. There is little time for contemplation and of course we now have Google.

My Day starts too early, I then wonder from room to room trying to drag unconscious children from their beds. Have you ever had to drag your drunk friend off someones living room floor and try to get them home? if you have good because THAT is what its like to get these kids out of bed. Just when you think after much prodding that they are about to get up *BAM*  suddenly they are unconscious again.

Communications is difficult.Its like trying to talk to one of those Monkeys that communicates in singe language. You would think it would be easy, just a few simple words and commands exchanged back and forth.  Except I don’t know  singe language so its like trying to communicate with regular monkeys. (well maybe regular drunk monkeys) For example this was my conversation with Sawyer

“Sawyer what kind of cereal would you like?”

“Mom? If you are allergic can you do anything so you don’t die?”

“well if you are having a sever reaction to something you can get a shot. Now what kind of cereal do you want?”

*Sawyer is fiddling with 3 Duplo blocks he found on the counter* “Mom  so if you get  stung by a bee you get a shot?”

“Yes, Sawyer I do now what kind of cereal would you like? Please answer me”

This conversation went on for 5 FREAKING MINUTES before I got out of him that he DID NOT WANT ANY CEREAL.  He has eaten a bowl of cereal every morning for forever.  But not this morning.

They lose their clothing everywhere. Many years ago i hated lending my sister clothing because she had a habit of getting drunk and leaving my stuff all over town. This was typically sweaters and jackets. I see now that it was all just practice for having children of my own. They lose everything. Even clothing they were wearing 5 seconds ago. “Mom where’s my socks?” “ummmm didn’t you just put them on your feet? what did you do with them?!”……..”i don’t know” I spend more time looking for things I will never wear lost by people who had them in their position less than 5 minutes prior.Part of the problem could be  they like to toss everything in the air. Maybe they are practicing for  futures as circus performers (which is awesome because it means we won’t have to pay for college for all of them!) I can not tell you how many times I am hit with a random sock or pair of under wear. They will walk though the house tossing and spinning clothing everywhere  and then be shocked when I  am irritated that they have lost their socks, boots, coat etc. They look at me with great big eyes and total bewilderment like “oh mother why are you enraged with your poor sweet innocent children? you have only asked me to put on my shoes a mere 20 times, surly you can have more patience and ask us another 20”

These are just a few of the many reasons I often feel like the ONLY sober person at a wild frat party.

My totally awesome 33rd Birthday!

I am a (mostly) stay at home mom of 7, 6 I gave birth to and 1 i acquired when I married my husband. I do on occasion work outside my home as a substitute Teachers aid for  Head Start. I am never far from little people, in fact I have been wiping butts for almost 15 consecutive years now. I am also 33 years old. Now I will save you mathematicians the work and say YES I had my first child at the tender age of 18.  My step-Mom told me that double-digit years are special. 11, 22, 33 etc.  For me Birthdays stopped being “fun” a while ago. I remember turning 24, looking in a mirror and thinking “well that’s it, its all down hill from here!” On the eve of my 33rd Birthday this year I was sitting in the bathroom alone ( a rare and magical event in and of its self) When I noticed my youngest daughters Birthday Tiara sitting on a shelf and I thought” oh what the Hey…..I’m wearing THAT tomorrow!”  Why? I think mostly because I felt like maybe my family could use a little reminding thought out the day that it was MY special Day! I figured every time they looked at me they might think “oh crap we better be nice to her before she has some sort of meltdown”  I figured it would be better than running around grabbing random members of my family shaking them and screaming “LOVE MEEEE!”  no, seriously I have a hard time with Birthdays so This year I did this, I work my crown AND I took selfies all Day of me enjoying “My special day” Why? well because if you didn’t read the first line of this blog, I have 8 KIDS 7 kids and 1 husband and I am entitled to some sort of spastic melt down on occasion. . enjoy!

Enjoying my special Day!

Enjoying my special Day!

This is Going to be my year! I can feel it!

This is Going to be my year! I can feel it!

New Adventures await me!

New Adventures await me!

loving all this undivided attention!

loving all this undivided attention!

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*gasp* a special meal just for me?!

*gasp* a special meal just for me?!

A Present just for me!

A Present just for me!

I'm going to rock out with my (dirty) sock out!

I’m going to rock out with my (dirty) sock out!