Saturday, September 26, 2009

boys that bellow

It used to be really funny, when my passionate, boisterous, very Greek husband would bellow from wherever, "Trisha!". OK - NOT so much anymore. Perhaps because we have two children who have acquired this gene. Now do I not only have a obnoxious, loud Greek husband who bellows - I have two boys who do it also.

Let me illustrate. This morning it is raining and the kids seem to need a break. OK frankly I need a break so we watched cartoons until 10:00 a.m. Some of us. My three-year old is not the biggest TV watcher. 30 minutes tops and then he's ready to move on. My six-year old and I are perfectly content to lye on the couch and not move, however Loudstrom has other plans. Like throwing a screaming fit for 45 minutes because I won't let him swing on the curtains. When he wasn't screaming about curtains, he was just screaming at us for not getting up.

Later the boys went out on the porch while I threw lunch together. 15 times - I counted! - they sat on the porch screaming for me. When I finally walked out there the six-year-old is standing on the bench and the three-year old is crying. There was a Daddy Long leg spider on the bench and they wanted me to get it. I tried to tell them it was gone but as I got close to the bench they both leapt off clinging to me like spider monkeys. We all peed our pants but for several different reasons.

My husband gets home from work and sits down to eat something. I'm going up and down the stairs trying to look really busy finishing the cleaning. (and burning off calories from the pizza I polished off because the kids where too scared to eat it) So I mention that the lady from the bank was going to call regarding our refinancing questions. We are considering refinancing a home equity loan (finally) since rates are down and the woman from the bank calls back. My husband walks around the house with the ringing phone screaming - you guessed it - "TRISHA!"

So when they come to take me away He He!! I'll be ready.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

I'm not listening....

We have all done it. Say yes, you know you have. Your husband tells you he is in the mood and you pretend to be asleep. One of the kids is screaming at you from upstairs to wipe their bum and you say under your breath, "I can't hear a thing over the washer." Better yet, you stand there with their PB&J in your hand while they scream, "Give it to me!!" and your reply is, "I can't hear you until you say please."

So why does it absolutely infuriate us when they pull that stunt on us? I can stand in front of my child who's watching television and say their name 5 times with increasing decibels and they do not flinch.

Why I am saying it 5 times? Why do I think they are going to answer me? WHY HAVE I BECOME MY PARENTS!

My father I guess was the biggest offender. He would be the one scolding us for cussing by saying, "You can't @%$&*# cuss God $(#&$! it." If we hit one another he would whack us and say, "Don't @%#& hit your sister!" This isn't really about his lack of parenting skills, he's a product of his environment - but it does drive home the point that hypocrisy is in my genes.

I try to remember what it was like to be six or three, I try to think about what I always dreamed my parents should be- yet here I am. Still calling the child's name 5 times to put his shoes aways after I told him he could have TV time - just what was I thinking? Maybe I should try please.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

technical difficulties

Please excuse the delay in posting - our computer an modem blew-up and of course I am not savvy enough or wealthy enough to fix it........

Please stand by!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

What's taking so long!

I really want to thank all of you who read my rants regularly - especially those of you who keep me on my toes but giving me comments like "Are you still alive!" Yes I am, I just seem to be buried in the minutia.


Right now I am trying to dig out of the mound of paperwork sent home with my Findergartener. I can not believe the number of papers that come home everyday and 80% of them are for me. There has been a paper for everything you can imagine. From new school policies to changes in school policies, H1N1 to up coming events, t-shirt sales to volunteer opportunities, newsletters to Save the Dates.

I want to volunteer but I don't know if being in his classroom is the best place. I was thinking more like recess duty. Maybe the library - where it is climate controlled and QUIET. Or even the cafeteria. You can really tell where I excelled in school, A? Maybe being the crazy lunch lady wouldn't be that fun, better than the gym teacher though. Most of my gym teachers left much to be desired, they couldn't demonstrate anything or they would hyperventilate and that was the end of class. We played a lot of Dodge ball. Oh how I hated that game!


Some of what comes home is actually work he did. I am sure glad he's practising his colors I was afraid he was lose so much during that long summer break. He is also practising writing, that I can get behind 100%. I wish someone would have cracked the whip on me because my handwriting is barely legible. So much of what he brings home looks like Kindergarten work. I was hoping they would ease the kids in, but come on! Maybe I should be in the classroom. On second thought, maybe I should bite my tongue.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Star Wars Mania

When my son started school last year he was introduced to Star Wars. Such has been our focus for the last year. Our three-year-old has caught on of course and so there is no escaping it. That is why we gave in and watched all three of the old movies on our summer trip. Now -they are Star Wars experts.

At least they think they are and compared to me they rock. But now that the three-year-old has to play Star Wars with me while his brother is at school he has to explain a lot. That's o.k. truly because he likes to talk and does so without a reason so at least there is sometimes a point to the conversation.

Not being a Star Wars person myself it is difficult learning from a three-year-old. I'm not always sure I have it 100% correct. Let me give you a few examples, anyone who knows what I am suppose to be talking about will probably laugh.

He swings a "Yite saber" at me while making a whooshing noise. Then because I am "Pincess Yeaha" I have to shot back because she had a gun not a "Yite saber". We fight off "Geferal Greaveyous" who I do know was not in the movies they watched, he's in the movies they are not allowed to watch yet. But that's o.k. because "he's tool mom".

Sometimes we fight together as "Yuke Skywalker" and "Pincess Yeaha". They fought "togever wif Sowo and Chewy and the Ewoks". That's when we have to "bawast the storm twoopers". Some things I do remember from the movies, Chewy is one of them, he was my favorite and my impression is dead on! But I'm stuck being "Pincess Yeaha" because I am a "gawril". (girl)

Honestly, I don't have to do much but take orders. He does most all of the talking, directing, screaming, whacking (those "yite sabers" HURT I tell you!) I'm just glad to be invited.