It's a Family Tradition

Kids grow so fast and mine are no exception. Over the year I have tried to work in many traditions that they can carry on when they have their own family.

My parents never really had any traditions that I can think of at the moment. I take that back, they tried to have a few. We would open all the presents from our parents on Christmas Eve. Then Santa would come and we would have our big presents that morning. But our Santa did not wrap our presents. So one year, I informed my parents that I did not like it that way. I wanted to only open presents on Christmas morning and Santa had to wrap the presents and if he did not, my parents needed too. For some reason, they listened. Eventually I allowed every one to open one present Christmas Eve. Not sure why the took orders from a small child, but atlas they let me run the show when it came to Christmas. I am destined to be a CEO one day.

I know most people are surprised, but I am just as bossy in my thirties.....shocking I know. 

Here is a list of traditions as of 2010:

Secret Santa
This is our favorite tradition because it was inspired by my limited budget. Every year on Thanksgiving, we throw all our names in hat. We choose a person to be our Secret Santa. Then on the Saturday before Christmas, we go out as a family and buy our person a present. That present is opened on Christmas Eve. One of the benefits to this is the fact that we do not have go nuts buying each person a present from each person. I am all for simple. It is a fun night, that usually ends with us having dinner at the end of the night. I generally end up knowing who each person has because no one can keep a secret. Joey loves this tradition and adheres to it except the secret part.

This year we added a twist, we put a theme behind the present. So some has a sports theme or an "As Seen on TV" theme. So we will see how it goes this year. It could be a diaster.

Fondue before Santa
I hate to cook and I am generally bad at it for the most part. So on Christmas Eve, I do not have to make a mess cooking dinner,instead we have fondue. I get a dark beer and some blocks of cheese, and every one eats fondue. The kids love it but it never fails that we spend about ten minutes trying to fish out the bread Joey loses in the cheese. The best part, easy clean up.

Pajamas for Everyone
The boys are not a fan of this one, but every year Taylor and I buy everyone one jammies. We go get coffee and head to JCPenny. She picks out my jammies and I pick out hers. Here is another present I let the everyone open on Christmas Evee. I do this for two reasons, one it encourages the boys to wear pajamas and two they are dressed for pictures in the morning. It is really fun to just have daughter time. I would like to say this is an original idea, but I totally stole this idea from my old boss, Sandee at Arredondo Farms. I totally told her that I stole the idea.

A Christmas Story
It is just does not feel like Christmas Eve in the Rupp's house until we hear those bells ring and see the Red Rider BB Gun in the window. The music comes on and that voice starts off the monologue about how little Ralphie wants to get his Red Rider for Christmas. When his mother tells him that he will shoot his eye out, it is officially Christmas in our house. It is our subsitute for snow. Christmas Story plays over and over throughout the night and all is right with the world.

Those are the basic tradtions we have, we add to them every year. This year Joey and I went out to buy a stocking for everyone. I am pretty sure that will turn into our own little tradition.

Well time to make the bread, so I am off. From my family to yours, I hope every one has a safe, happy holiday and a super merry Christmas.

The Most Embarrassing Moment of my Mommy Life

I am sitting here at Barnes and Nobles eating my Lucy's Gluten Free cookies and drinking a Carmel Machiato. Desperately trying to focus on my senior thesis but I am having no luck. So I must tell this story and get it out of my head before I can move on.

I am not the type of person who discusses my finances with anyone unless it is absolutely necessary. I think finances overall should be private. I most certainly do not discuss it with kids because I want them to have a time in their life when they are not worried about how bills are paid..

However I want them to value money, so I am constantly telling them how long someone who makes minimum wage would have to work to earn the toy or item they are requesting.

It utterly makes me nuts for them to leave lights on when it is easy way to conserve money and energy. My biggest irritation is the bathroom light that is left constantly and constantly telling them to shut it off.

 Somewhere during my nagging to turn off the lights and to close the refrigerator door when it is not in use was sending the wrong message.

HERE IS WHY I CAME TO THIS CONCLUSION.

Today around 4pm, I got a call from the school resource officer. Of course, you guessed it, it was Joey's school.

"Mrs. Rupp I want to let you know that Joey has been invited to participate in the Police and Friends program on Dec. 5th, " he said.

"Great, let grab a pen," I said naively thinking it was some type of program for creative kids or something.

He proceeded to tell me that Joey was selected to met and have breakfast with police officers in the county. Then after that Joey would be given a certain amount of cash for whatever he wanted. They asked that he bought clothes or shoes and then he could pick a toy for himself but they asked it not be a fake gun or knife. They wanted to insure that Joey had something under the tree for Christmas.

It took me a moment because I am slow like that and then the light bulb went on.

"Sir, can I ask you a question?" I responded.

He said, "Sure."

"Has been put in this program because someone thought that our family was impoverished," I used that word because truly I just hate people to think I am poor or uneducated.

There was a pause, "Well yes ma'am."

I rubbed my hand across my face as if to say, what in the heck are these children telling people.

"Sir, while your program sounds wonderful and I appreciate the thought but honestly I think there are other children out their who benefit much more. I would not just feel right letting Joey participate when it could go to someone more deserving."

The officer had a shocked tone in his voice, "well I appreciate your honesty."

"Sir my son will wear his play shoes to school sometimes or his play jeans, if I am not paying attention but he has almost everything he needs. While my husband and I are not comfortable, we are not on the edge of eviction either. We have planned for Christmas since July and a lot of Joey's Christmas is done," okay now I was just getting defensive.

He then told me the school counselor referred me. I told about the fire but that we did have insurance and promised we okay and he thank me and I thanked him and said our goodbyes.

I stormed out of the kitchen with a red face and turned into mommy hulk.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Now Joe was freaking out, we both looked at Joey. He stammered and said nothing mom. I have not talk to the lady since Me-Maw went to heaven.

So I ranted and raved for awhile to my boss, and then my awesome neighbors. I informed all the kids, that we were not poor we just gave them impression so they had low expectations(okay I did not say that but wanted to).

I decided to go to Barnes and Nobles to work on my paper, I walked into the living room and all the lights were off. I asked my daughter why they lights were off.

"Mom, we do not have the money to pay the electric bill," she responded.

I told her not to listen to me, turn the lights on I can afford the stupid power bill. I walked all through the house turning lights on, and even the bathroom light where no one was using it.

My kids are future Lawyers: The Story of the Contract

So it is Veterans day, a day to celebrate the selflessness of the those who served this great country and all the freedoms we hold dear like contractional law. To celebrate my two youngest got out of school early.

The two of the them came home and preformed their normal routine which is normally argueing. As I am working,  and I hear Joey talking to Taylor and his voice was gradually starting to raise. 

"Taylor we had a contract, you have to play with me," Joey yelled.

"No, I don't, Joey leave me alone," she responded.

"But we have a contract and you signed it," he yelled back at her.

It is at this time, I decide to intervene."What is going on?"

Joey stomps out into the living room. "MOM, Taylor and I had a contract that I would not bother her for ten days and it has been 10 days. "

I just looked at him for a moment trying to understand what the heck he was talking about.

"So you and Taylor have a contract? I asked.

"Yes, mom," he said.

"So was this contact verbal or written?" Thinking slightly this is a ridiculous question and that he probably did not understand.

"It was written mom," he stated with confidence.

So I asked him to bring it to me thinking the could have not possibly wrote a contact.

He stomped back out with an 8x10 paper and some red marker and it said:

This contract says that Joey wil not annoy Taylor for 24 hours. That if I want to be by myself then I can for 1 hour each day than he will leave me alone after and 1 pick the game.

I then looked at my son with a satisfied look on his face.

I then looked at him and then my husband, "They both signed and initialed it."

"Yeah, mom the intitials were Joey's idea," Taylor said now in on the conversation.

"Well Taylor, you have a legal and binding contract, you have to abide by the contract, " I responded.

My husband looked at me, "that is blog worthy."



Guess Blogger: Amazing what you can find in a child's cast

My boys are now 10 and 12 and I thought we were doing pretty well without them breaking any bones or having any major medical emergencies. That was until 3 weeks ago when Mark came in crying because he had fallen playing football with his brother and friends. Well I should rephrase that apparently he was standing there waiting for someone to throw the ball when he fell over….

Now my son Mark is not really a crier, if he cries for more than 2 minutes he’s really hurt. So when he first came in I gave him ice, a hug and told him to sit on the couch. He continued to cry and I quickly made the decision that he needed an x-ray. So off to the ER we went…

The night it happened.

By the time we got to the ER he had stopped crying, we walked into a full waiting room. I leaned over and whispered in his ear that he should start crying again…is that wrong???!!! Whatever…it worked we were in and out of there in a 1 ½!

It is indeed broken. Now the adventure began of keeping it dry and his hand clean…you know how little boys are! Well 2 weeks after getting the cast on, he “accidentally” put it in the bathtub…

I called and made an appointment for him to get a new cast. He got a lecture from the nurse who walked us back and from the guy who cut off the cast. The doctor was very nice and didn’t make him feel bad. So the guy is cutting off the cast and the doctor is talking to Mark. All of a sudden the guy pulls out the top to a mechanical pencil from inside the cast…he says what’s this???

Mark says “I don’t know how that got in there!!!!” We all just burst out laughing! Apparently he left his arm lying around somewhere and someone else used a pencil to scratch it! The pencil top had also been in his cast for a week…

This would be the first cast; he now has a glow in the dark one. Hopefully he can make it until Wednesday without sticking in the tub or losing something in it! He should be getting it off Wednesday!

Barkley and Me: The War Rages On

My whole life I loved kitties. I just wanted to cuddle and smush their little face. However my step-dad did not like cats at all. So as I child, I was never really around many of them.

In 1992 I moved to my dad's house in Florida. For a while it was just him and I in a big huge house. So when I was offered a cat, I jumped on it. Being the bad teenager I was at the time, I brougt the new kitty home without my dear ole' dad's permission.  He still loves to tell the story of how he woke to go to work and opens his bedroom door and hears a little meow. I do not know if I can describe the anger in his eyes and he has never let me live it down.

I named the cat Diana, she was precious. However it became clear she loved my dad and not me. I was an annoyance who changed her litter box. So when I moved out later, I did not take her with me. Once again, something that irritated my dad. In fact for years every time I talked to him he wanted to know when I was going to pick up my cat. I truly believe he would never let me. He did however offer to give her to me as a wedding present but atlas I got a toaster instead. When she passed, my poor dad was devasted.

When I met my husband he had a black lab. She loved me at first until I started sleeping on her side of the bed. Then she would just chew up my socks when I slept. Nesta and I had a rocky relationship in the beginning. I think were both trying to claim the alpha role in the house. Atlas I won and she became my special friend.  We had her for 11 years and I adored her deeply.

When we lost her, I could not bare another dog. She was too special. My best friend Chelsea offered to bring me a kitten. Considering my general history with cats, she promised to bring me the sweetest cat she could find.

So in June 2009, she brought the cutest black kitten ever born. I named him Backley, my husband insisted a boy cat would love me. I am not listening to him again.

This little thing just looked at me. He was cutest kitty I had ever seen. I genuely do not think he looked at me like I was the custest human he ever had seen. Moreover I think he thought I was a giant two year old wanting to cuddle with him.

Tell me that is not one of the cutest faces ever.

For the first year I pretty much annoyed him.  In that year my husband also came up with a European voice for him and a facebook page. He kinda took on a Stewie persona in the house. Always threatening through my husband. One day I sat Joe down and told him that he was not channeling the cat and he was from Alachua and not Europe.

 He became quite famous among family and friends. Everyone would ask me about my little friend.

Then I startd verbally arguing with him(my husband voice) about things as it it was real. I really think Barkely believes I am nuts.

As he got older he started to do things, I think to make me think I was scrazy.

One day I was sitting in the living room, I heard a big crash. No one was home, so it was not my kids. Then I ran into kitchen as my little man ran out.  On the kitchen counter the was a glass of water tipped over and the counter was soaked in water.

I walked into the hall, the cat is sitting, licking his paw, and looked up at me as if to say, "What happened mom?" I put my hands on my hips and walked away. I thought I heard  little laughter.

He geneally seems annoyed that we did not buy a sixth table chair for him. He takes his seat at dinner every night until one of us kicks him off. In fact on night we were having steak, he jumped up on the table and stole Logan steak while we talking about how cute he was on the table. He tried to eat the whole dang thing.

One morning he decided it was play time, he ran back and forth through the house for an hour. Of course I was the only one he woke up, after throwing several things in his general direction he just would not stop. I gave up, and went into the living room to find him sleeping. That morning every time I walked by him I woke him up on purpose. He looked at me like I was the jerk.

This year I dressed as him for Halloween and we took pics together. I cannot tell you how annoyed he was that I was forcing him to take pictures. He generally only wants me to pick him up if I have milk or ham for him.

He is also notorius for peeing in boxes. You cannot leave on the floor for more than a minute.

The cat is a constant pain, but I love his little face. I have many more stories. I thought it would be good to lay the foundation of our relationship. Sometimes I swear he thinks his job is to push me into a mommy meltdown.



Partner in Crime

Throughout my time as being a parent there is one thing for certain, I am not alone in this war. I have back up to this crazy battle. He is my partner in crime. Many times as a woman you tend to forget you are not alone in the craziness. Many times when our children have done something silly or inappropriate, my husband is my rational side. He is the one I yell, complain, and cry to when the kids lose their mind. In fact sometimes, I think my husband is the most rational person in the house.  Parenting many times is about partnership and that is what he is to me, my partner in crime, my accomplise, and my witness. I am so excited that my husband will never legally have to testify against me, one of the benefits of marriage.

Single moms should be elevated to star quality, because to deal with those people alone and remain sane is amazing.

Many times I forget to tell him how much I value his partnership. So I want him to know, that I know I am not alone. He is my General, my number 2, and my therapist in many cases. The best thing about him most times is that he sits and lets me rant and rave about the kids inability to turn off the lights,being suspended for breaking into vending machine with plastic utensils, or the constant bickering. 

I realize how much I loved my husband the other day when one incident happened. 

I was in the restroom getting ready for the gym. 

I went to grab my hair brush and I knocked his brand new deodorant into the toilet.

I pulled the deodorant out of the toilet, threw it in the garbage, and washed my hands. I walked into the living room....."Hey we need to go to the store tonight, I dropped your Old Spice deodorant in the toilet."

He just looked at me with THAT LOOK on his face. The one that said, WOW I married this woman. The one I get every time I lose my keys or leave my credit card in the ATM. 

 

"Baby, that is a testament on how much I love you. I could have just rinsed it off and put it back on the counter. Less
you forget, our children do silly things all the time and I am pretty sure it is genetic."

He has to deal with me and my tanturms and the kids nutty things they do. My children come by their tendency to do crazy things from my side of the gene pool. The least I could do was buy him new deordrant that was not full of toilet water.

I turned and walked out of my room thinking, wow I really do love this man. Deodorant is expensive and in the past I may have just washed it off, so for me to just throw it away is a good demonstration of my love. You know it is the little things that make a marriage work. 

Dinner Conversations

So due to the fact we somewhat like the kids sometimes, we always sit down for dinner every night. The television is out sight so we can focus on family time. Each child has an opportunity to talk about their day. The first round usually goes pretty smooth with little argument. 

Tonight the two oldest decided to discuss their constant irritations with each other. Taylor informed us Logan he did not change his clothes for a couple of days and he informed us that she did not brush her hair and her tooth brush. 

My husband, in his infinite wisdom, reminded both of them that both of them are guilty of various things. Logan of course had improved and made his case about how clean he was now that school started. 

  This is lead the conversation led to shaving. We started talking about Logan first experiences shaving. Any one that has read my blog or seen my facebook status might remember Joey's attempt to shave his face on his 7th birthday. 

Logan would not be outdone. 

Recently Logan shaved one armpit. He reminded us of this at the dinner table. I knew he had done it  but for whatever reason I never got a straight answer out of him on why. 

So while we were all sharing at the table, I asked him why he had shaved his arm pit. 

He told me he only shaved one because he wanted to know what would happen. I am guessing he wanted to compare.

Staring at the child that I carried in my body for 9 months, I had to ask him if noticed a difference. 

"Yeah, one itched and the other didn't. I won't do that again."

Taylor: The Bee Incident

My daughter is pretty much the quiet rational child. I think it is in large part because she is the middle child. She has witnessed the boys' stellar decision making skills and has pretty much done the opposite. In fact, when she was little I use to tell her that I was going to put a cow bell on her because I could never find firgure out where she was because she was so quiet.

In fact, I used to tell call her my little Ninja because I was constantly freaking out when we were out in public. Most of the time I would look for her and call out and she would say, "I am right behind you mommy."

But this praticular night she demonstrated that she was truly my child. Here level-headed behavior went right out the window with one little insect.

It was late Saturday afternoon and all three of the my kids wanted to go to the park to play. Since there is a playground in the complex I had no objections. I planned to start dinner and work on some school work.

Not even five minutes later, my oldest child charged in the house and proclaimed that Taylor was stung by a bee and she is on her way upstairs.

So I hunkered down in the living room waiting for the child like I was waiting for a hurricane to make land fall. She flew in the door with hystericial fury.

"MMMMMOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM, it hurts," she exclaimed with tears in her eyes.

Logan just looked at her and walked out the door as if to say, "yeah I am not sticking around for the drama."

"What happened?" I questioned.

Well I would try to give the full conversation but it was pretty much incomprehensible. The jist of it was she was on the playground and bee stung her finger.

I took her into the kitchen and washed the area while simtaniously trying to convince her that it was okay for me to examine it. I had to promise I would not touch it. 

I have never been stung by a bee but I have been stung by a wasp when I was pregnant with Taylor. I was at my OB/GYN's office when it happened. My doctor put tobacco on it. All the modern medicine in the world and he gave me tobacco.

  We had no tobacco in the house at the time. So I posted on my facebook status I needed help and started  to google.

Taylor who was now holding her finger and making wierd whimpering noise began making sense again.

"Mom, why would a bee do this to me. I never hurt animals, in fact I am nice to all of them. I never hurt bees mom," she inquired with these huge horse tears in her eyes.

"Baby, the bee has no way of knowing that you are a good person, it is just their instinct," I said and pulled her close to me.

Balancing her and my computer, I continued to google bee stings. At that time, my mom called on my cell. She apparently had seen my facebook status and had a solution. She wanted to put bleach it. The moment I asked her what bleach would do, Taylor had looked at me as if to see.......you are NOT putting bleach on my wound.

I was not putting bleach on the sting because I did not have bleach and the idea of doing that seemed wrong. So I put ice on her sting and that seemed to help her for a while. It calmed her down until daddy came in the room, then suddenly she was hysterics again.

I would love to tell you the conversation she had with my husband, but once again it was incomprehensible.  But it ended with........."AND grandma wants me to put bleach on it."

Joe looked at me and said, "Your not putting bleach on it."

I rolled my eyes, of course I was not putting bleach on it.

Taylor and I snuggled on the couch for an hour and she was finally calm enough to eat dinner. Then one of my FB friends told me to put a penny on it. Taylor loved that idea. So we took a penny and put it on her finger and covered it with a bandaid. She was happy for the rest of the night. The next morning she informed me that it worked but her fingered had changed colors.

So am not sure if it worked or helped her pshycologically, but it calmed her down.

  My mom to this day insists bleach was a better alternative.



Afterschool Kids Conversations: Possible Carbon Monoxide Contamination

My daughter got home from school late this afternoon. Today was an extra special day, she was issued her first school laptop. She was bragging about how it and how it is a dell with Windows 7. I just let her go on and on. The school also provided her with a really nice laptop bag.

"Mom we have to keep the laptop in the bag at all times or they will take the laptop away from us," she said with the most serious face.

Oh course true to the fact that I am completely immature responded, "Well how are you going use it if it is always in the bag?"

This child that I gave birth to looked at me as if I was the dumbest person on the planet.  Momentarily she stared at me as if to day,"really.......great I am related to this lady." Then she walked out of the room.

At that time I was chatting with my boss on AIM and relayed the story.

She responded, "I guess your daughters does not deal in absolutes."

"I don't think my daughter has a sense of humor, " I IMed her back.

About 5 minutes later, Joey came in the room and pulled out a pack bowl of frosted flakes cereal from his backpack. This was the second day he had pulled out frosted flakes from his backpack.

Seeing the confusion on my face he immediately came up with a story. "Mom, someone just gave this to me, it was weird."

"So you are telling me someone just walked up to you and gave you frosted flakes, two days in a row?" I inquired.

"Yes."

"I don't believe you. I think you are buying breakfast from school," I stated.

"No....No...I give the lady my number, " he said and I rolled my eyes.

"So you eat at home and then go to school and buy breakfast. Then you come home and tell me that some random person gave you frosted flakes."

"No, mom I give the lady my lunch number."

He then walked into the kitchen with his cereal. I just looked at my husband with that look that says....you know our kids are completely nuts.

Once again I relayed the story to my boss on AIM.

Her response, "Is there a Caron Monoxide leak in your house?"

Guest Blogger: Boys will be boys

This was submitted to me by a good friend who loves to share her silly kid stories. I have feeling after this one, she will have many more to share. Enjoy:

Boys will be boys: Usually at the Wrong time

I’m a mother of two boys Mark who is 10 and Aaron who is 12. I became a single mom when they were about 4 and 6. One day I got this brilliant idea that my older son should join the Cub Scouts….

So he joined and we did this for one whole school year. I’m not sure which one of us hated it more, but I was not going to quit. I felt that we made the commitment we were going to stick it out. That was until the “field day” experience. Then I made his dad take him.

It was a Saturday afternoon and some genius thought a field day would be a wonderful idea. I’m sure it would have been if they had planned fun activities or showed up on time. Standing in the middle of a large field with a group of snooty parents while our older children ran around in circles was not my idea of fun.

I also had my 4 year old Mark who was not allowed to participate in this overwhelming fun. So he decided to work on perfecting his ability to embarrass his mommy. It worked…

About 45 minutes into the joyous event I’m listening to some mom talk about potty training or time out corners or something equally obnoxious when Mark pulled his move…

He reaches up grabbed both my breasts and yells at the top of his lungs “Honk, honk”!!!! There was no time to react and grab his hands before the entire group of parents stopped talking and turned to stare.

Needless to say we left…immediately!



The Plastic Fork: A Logan Classic

There are some things your kids do that you never will let go much less let them forget. Not to mention, there is a good chance I might still be mad.   I was telling this story in public the other day in a public place and people in the room started laughing. So I knew I must put this online and share it with the world.

I believe there is a moment in every parent life when they wonders if perhaps someone dropped your child on their head and did not tell you.

That moment for me came when Logan was in 4th grade.

I exaggerated a bit in my last blog, I do not hate all school functions. At Glen Springs Elementary, they did a fundraiser an annual fundraiser for the Safety Patrol DC trip. They had a school yard sale and parents could buy a table for 5 bucks and sale their own items. This was a highly successful fundraiser. It was easy to get parents to participation. I was one of those parents who was happy to buy a table.

I packed up some useless stuff that was collecting dust and made my oldest son accompany me to the yard sale. The day was pretty successful and towards  the end of the morning I let Logan play with one of his classmates. I thought.....what trouble could this child get into on school premises. That was not the brightest thought I have ever had.

After about 30 minutes, Ms. Haile(why is all assistant principal named Ms Haile, I bet there is some statistic that supports it) came out of the school with my son who was looking incredibly guilty.

This child which I carried in my body for nine months, kiss his boo boos, held while he cried, and fed noodle soup when he was sick, had managed to get in trouble for one of the dumbest things ever in the universe.

Logan was caught in the teachers' snack room trying to break in the snack machine with a plastic fork. That is right you read right, a plastic fork. I am not creative enough to make this up.

My son, who up until that moment, I never questioned his intelligence got suspended in the 4th grade for trying to break into a snack machine with a plastic fork.

Now to make this story even funnier, I just asked this teenager of mine if it was a fork or a knife because I was not entirely sure if it was a fork.  He walked into the living room and said, "Do you want to know the truth, " I was not sure at this point, "it was both."

Fortunately he was not a alone. Somewhere in Florida, Logan's accomplice possibly has to hear his mom tell people the story about the day her son tried to break in a snack machine with this weird Logan kid.

The Bubble Head Twins: The White Jean Woman

It may come as a surprise to many people who know me that I am not exactly a tennis-bracelet wearing mom. I do not join the PTA, hang out at bake sales, or volunteer for much of anything. If I can buy it, I will bring it. I do not even pretend like I bake it, I leave the Kroger label on it.

I do attend all the school events but I complain about it and hate every second of it. However, I am there.

So Taylor started middle school a couple weeks ago at Tuckahoe Middle. Last week was open house. Let me explain how open house works. Parents get the "PTA pitch for donations" speech and listen while they talk about how awesome they are and the great things they have planned. They do this to parents who are all looking at their cell phones and not paying attention. Then they introduce everyone to the staff that no one is close enough to see.  Then they dismiss you to go meet all of the teachers. Just the process of leaving the building reminds every parent of why they hated their own middle school experience.

Taylor has 8 classes and we had to follow her schedule during the day with 5 minutes to get to her class and 7 minutes to listen to a super tired teacher tell us how their class is structured.

In order for my husband and I to cope with this miserable experience, we tried to seek something to amuse us. Well this particular night our amusement walked out of the gym wearing white jeans.

Let me set the seen, this couple who looked nicely groom and moderately loaded walked out together. The mom was perfectly manicured, had an expensive hair style, and wore perfectly fitted white jeans. The husband reminded me of an absent-minded executive who spent more time at frat parties in college than class.

Fortunately my husband and I choose a seat close to them in the gym. We overheard them bragging to the parents behind us about how their son.....let's call him "Chip," not to protect his identity but because I cannot remember the boy's name, played football for the middle school. So Chip was on the football team and he was at practice and had a collision with another child. Now he has to wear a knee brace. I might have forgotten the story but they told to everyone who would listen.

Joe and I looked at each other in that couple sort of way. That way that says, "Can you believe these idiots behind us?" You know, that look.

So we walk out of the gym and some how they maneuvered their way in front of us.  And low and behold Joe and I looked up at the same time. On the butt of the lady perfect white jeans was brown smudges of dirt all over the back.

Once again, Joe and I gave each other the look.

Now this could happen to anyone, but it was because they seem to have this arrogance about themselves that they were so much better than everyone else made it funny to us.

Taylor apparently had this Chip kid in her class for the first four periods, so of course we got hear over and over about their son having a knee injury and playing football. The thing that was the most irritating was they seemed like that they were bragging. Wahoo.......my kid cold be disabled for life. Yeah us.

Finally we got to Taylor's civicz class and once again the Bubble Head twins were in class. Joe and I tried to be good and sit as far as way as possible but you could not help but hear it.......again.

This time they were telling the teacher about their son, football, and his knee. They went on to tell the poor teacher, who I am sure was tired as heck, all about it. The teacher politely listen and nodded. Finally after that, no more bubble heads. Joe and I finish out the night with nothing to laugh about.

We went home and was telling Taylor all about the parents. She looked at me and said....."Mom, are you talking about my civics teacher?"

"Yeah, they were telling him all about," I finished  the story.

"Mom, you know that teacher is the head football coach for the school," she said.

This time Joe and I looked each other and laughed.

These two parents were bragging to the coach about their son as if he did not know about the injury. They both were obviously oblivious to the fact this man coached their child. 

 

Joey and his New Hair

It has come abundantly clear since I started writing my blog that if I ever managed to put a book together and actually have it published, I am going to have to pay Joey the largest amount of royalties.

So today started out as a productive day. I went to Barnes and Nobles and spent two hours working on my classwork. I came home grabbed Logan and we had a productive lunch. We set goals for his behavior. I was feeling like a super smart mommy.

I came home and was hanging with the husband when we got some terrible news. Needless to say, it cast a shadow over the day.

But leave it to Joey to do something so outrageous so we all ended up smiling and laughing again.

I let all the kids go outside and play on the playground. Joe and I really just needed some quiet. We decided we all needed some family time when the kids got back. So we planned to go out for dinner.

Joey was the first one to come in the house to check in so, I told to him to go get his brother and sister that it was time to go out to eat.

He ran out, not acting in any way suspicious. Within in minutes, Logan barreled in the house. He wanted to know if we knew about what Joey did. I told him he had to be more specfic.

"Did you guys know that Joey cut his hair?"

No, neither of us had any idea. We really try not to make direct eye contact with the kids because they usually just ask for stuff.

At that moment Joey walked in the door. Of course, I inquired about his hair and really took a good look at the child. I noticed that he had no bangs in the front of his hair.

"Did you cut your hair Joey?"

"Yes, two weeks ago. Like it was this summer," he responded quickly. I think he was trying to confuse me.

At that time Taylor chimed in and it became a arguement of when Joey did what and with what.

So this is what I derived, Joey in the last two weeks has been gradually cutting the front part of his hair. The scissors were stashed under the bathroom and the two older children had seen them on the sink on and off for a couple of weeks.

Now I realized that little Joey is a little genius. First of all he did it gradually, so I would not noticed. And it worked. Secondly he almost got away with it because of this next part.

All three of my children loves tattling. For them it is a hobby in which they have turned into art. So Joey knowing this took preventive measures.

It was Logan's friend who first noticed that the child had whacked off his hair in the front, his full forehead exposed. I assumed the child realized he was busted. So this child being the genius that he is told Logan he was going upstairs to confess. This was the time he actually walked in the house and apparently the whole checking in with us was part of this act.

When he went back downstairs he told Logan and Taylor that he confessed to us and he was grounded for two weeks. He then told them it was time to go home because we were having a family time. Unfortunately for Joey, Logan and Taylor saw gold and they had to double check and make sure we knew. I think they both almost tripped over getting up the stairs to make sure the child was grounded and all knew of Joey's crime.

So in the end even though Joey came up with a great plan, his siblings shoved him under the bus face first, or dare I say hair first.

Joey: And The Amazing Barkley

Yep you got it, another about poor Barkley.

Most people know that I am not a morning person at all. The two oldest are definitely not either. However Joey wakes up with a smile on his face every morning and Saturday is no exception. Most of the time if we are asleep he will crawl on the couch and watch Spongebob until we get up.

It was about 830am last Saturday. I was laying there cursing the fact I was awake and wanted to sleep in. I heard something and I got up to investigate the noise. I opened the door and saw Joey laying the couch watching cartoons.

"Are you okay, buddy," I asked.

"Yes mommy, I am watching Spongebob," he said in his sleepy little voice.

"I am going to lay down for a few more minutes. Watch cartoons and I will be up soon."

"Okay mommy."

I looked down and Barkley was whining to get into Logan's room. So I opened the door for him and he ran in there.

I laid back down telling myself that Joey is seven and able to be left in the living room. In the middle of my justification, I heard this loud kitty scream right outside my door.

I flew out of bed and opened the door and there Joey stood looking guilty.

I asked, "What happened?'

"Mom, Barkley closed his tail in the door," he said super quickly.

"What?"

I could see the wheels turning in his head. Was mom going to buy it? Guess not, I should change my story.

"It was an accidennnttttt."

So I grabbed the cat and he seemed fine, annoyed but fine. I put him down and he ran away.

Then I looked at Joey again and did not say a word.

"Mom it was an accident."

A thousand questions went through my mind. Why was this child in the hall? Did I not just tell this child to stay on the couch and watch Spongebob? Why in the heck am I up this early?

And the anger started to build.

I looked at him and snapped, "Go lay down on the couch. "

I went back to bed cursing. Too mad to sleep, I finally got up and went into the living room.

Later that week we were discussing his lying problem and I reminded him of the fact that he lied to me about Barkley.

He looked at me without hesitation said, "No I didn't"

Logan and my Poor Barkley Kitty

Laughter is highly valued in our household. I am not a serious person and in fact comedy in our house is an asset to whoever can figure out how to incite giggling. Logan has always been a great sport, you can joke about almost anything and he never gets offended or upset. He rarely tells jokes or pulls pranks because he is not good at it. In fact, jokes are pretty painful to listen to coming from him.

Well tonight at the dinner table, I think he thought he would give funny another shot.

This teenage child who I bore and raised got up from the table and put his dish in the sink. He then causally walked over to Barkley(my cranky kitty cat), and picked him up. He then proceeded to lick Barkley's head like it was a Popsicle. The look on all of our faces have must been priceless. We were all in shock.

The cat looked like, WOW this is really happening.

No one could speak for the first couple of seconds, then Joe finally said to me....."Woman the boy is licking the cat." As if I missed it.

"Aren't you going to say something. "

"Nope...can't stop laughing," I said as the laughter had finally rose to my throat.

There really was no words, just a profound confusion and hysterical laughter.

Logan put the cat down and walked in his room as if nothing happened. Once again my husband try to convince me to do something.

I just responded with laughter.

Then Logan came back in the dining room two minutes later to ask for Claratin because his tongue itched. He has always been allergic to cats, not sure why licking the cat was a good idea.

So yes, Logan got away with his little display because he made me laugh.

However I am now concerned that Barkley may need some counseling in the future.

Taylor and her Passive Aggressive Story: My Future Politician

Taylor and I are driving to the store early last Saturday. It was just a normal Saturday morning, nothing special.

Taylor has spent a lot of time with her friend Sophie this month. I encourage it, I think a preteen needs girlfriends.

Most people know I am not a morning person. My idea of morning starts around 10am. It was around this time and I had not had my coffee yet. This is the conversation we had in the car.

"You know mommy, Sophie's mom does all the chores in the house. In fact, she told me she does everything because she enjoys it."

"Really, Taylor, I doubt that," I responded wondering where she was going with this conversation.

"No mom, all Sophie has to do is walk the dog and clean her room. Her mom comes home and cleans the house, makes dinner, and picks up after everyone. She does it because she likes it,"

"Does her dad work," I replied getting annoyed.

"No, he got laid off."

"Well, I doubt she enjoys waiting on everyone when she gets home from work."

"No, mommy she does and Sophie just walks the dog," Taylor insisted.

"So are you trying to tell me that after I get off work, I should pick up after everyone and do all the chores and be happy about it?"

Now I am completely annoyed.

She stopped short realizing that either: A: the tone in my voice was starting to sound angry or B: this strategy was not working

"No, mommy I just was talking about Sophie's mom."

"Well unfortunately for you, I am not Sophie's mom. I do not like waiting on four people and I will not be now or in the future be taking over anyone's chores, but nice try."

She then back peddled. And spent the rest of the day trying to convince me that she was not trying to trick me into do all her chores for her and her brothers.

I would love to know what moms think about this one.

A letter to my Children: Guess Blogger

A good friend of mine who has three children had a really bad day. We all know those days, the days where you are so angry you can feel it in every cell of your being.

She sent me this:

I am the freakin materfamilias (look it up in that thingy called a dictionary)

Got that??

This letter is to all of my children.

I am not going to name names as I type through this because each one

of you knows what it is you do. Do not attempt to be in denial about it.

With that being said, let me begin.

First off, I was so angry this morning, I thought my eyeballs would blow out of my head. I wanted to ram my truck right into that bus so I could give you even more of a ripping about how insane you all must truly be. What on this planet makes you think you can feed me some line of crap to weasel out of telling me the truth about what you are really thinking? If you don’t feel comfortable in telling me what you’re thinking, maybe that is a sign that this particular thought has no merit. I have a hard time believing that you feel like you can’t tell me the truth (like I’m going to beat your tail or some stewpit thing), so I am sticking with believing what you’re thinking has no merit.

I am sick and tired of being treated as your equal. I am not your equal. I am your mother and I deserve some respect as such. I am above you, like it or not. I pay your bills, I cook for you, I clean for you, I help you do better in school, and I try to help you do better in life. What has happened in any of your lives that has led you to believe that you are on my level, and that you deserve to have the things that I have and have already spent a good part of my life working so hard for??? I know what you are thinking, OMG! Mom is griping again. Well OMG right back at ya!!! I am over it. I try really hard to be a good mom and a little a lot of freaking cooperation would be nice. That doesn’t mean tell me what I want to hear. That means actually to LEARN from what I am telling you.

HOLY CRAP….LEARN?? YOU MUST BE JOKING RIGHT??!!!! But we are just kids mom, what are you talking about? We just want to be free to play games and sit around and eat whatever we like. Why should we have responsibility when we have you and Dad to handle all of our needs? After all, you and Dad chose to bring us into this world…so why must you make us suffer??? We had no say in the matter. Yeah, that’s right…I know that’s what you are

thinking. I pulled that crap when I was your age too.

These teenager years are sure to send me right over the edge. I have had an earful of WEE WAA. OH mom, do we have to talk…OMG, I just want to pretend the world is just going to fall in my lap and everything will be peachy perfect without me having to lift a finger. Are you serious???? Really???? I would like to set all 3 of you out on the side of road and let you see how far you’ll get on your raging good looks and the clothes on your back, and oh yeah, that Game Stop member card. That’ll really get you far!!! It is appalling where your priorities are sometimes. I want you to have fun, but can I get a reality check here?? Is this microphone on??? You are not babies anymore. Get over it. Suck it up and be somebody. Oh yeah, and just because you aren’t complete buttholes 24/7 doesn’t mean I should never correct you. Guess what…you are not perfect, your way is not always right, your way is not always best. I get so freakin tired of constantly saying , if you’re gonna do something…do it to your best ability. All I can

say is, if people routinely do a half-butt job for me…what am I supposed to think? Not much effort, guess it’s not very important! Oh mom, you don’t like the way I do anything. Am I not good enough? Do you not love me? Can I ever please you? OMG, call the freakin wambulance already. What a bunch of bogus crap.

Get over the laziness and lack of motivation already! When I ask and then show you how to do

something, please follow my lead. When you own your own house, pay your own bills, take care of your own yard, run yourself and your children anywhere you or they need to go, go grocery shopping, clean the house, buy clothes for everyone, make yourself get up and go to work day in and day out, buy vehicles, pay for health insurance and car insurance, and pay for gas …THEN YOU CAN DO THINGS YOUR WAY!

Here’s the deal

Life’s not easy

Nothing is free

Maybe you should take that money you are spending on video games and buy a bubble to live in.

I have spent much time today with my head in my hands. This day did not start well, nor does it continue to go well. All 3 of you have a large impact on my life and you don’t even realize it. Do you get that?

YOU HAVE A LARGE IMPACT ON MY LIFE…MY DAY TO DAY LIVING.

You have no idea how much I stick up for

you boys…all the time.

That is all for now.

Teenage Karma and the shocking Mom reveal

It has become increasing clear to me that because I am mom of a teenager, a preteen, and a 2nd grader, I am no longer cool. The days of dressing in black, wearing doc martins, and head banging to Smells Like Teen Spirit has passed. I have accepted the fact that my sole role in life is to embarrass my children. In fact, I make it an art form. My favorite strategy is generally singing loudly to some random song as we drive down the road. My second favorite is to say things like, "OMG and LOL" in random sentences in front of friends.

However nothing I really do now shocks my children. They have heard "your momma" jokes from me one too many times. I have to work to get them going. Today that opportunity arose. My inner geek arose and I shocked the teenager.

The opportunity presented itself early Sunday. I was the only one awake in the house. So I was flipping through the television. There is not a lot of options early Sunday morning. So I checked out HBO looking for Time Travelers Wife and low and behold there it was, Dragonball Z: Evolution.

So I ran in the kids' room and to wake up Joey. Both boys have a strange obsession with Pokemon, Dragonball Z, and other weird Japanese animated cartoons. As soon as Joey understood what I was talking about, he ran to the couch. He did not pass go, did not collect 200 dollars, or even go to the restroom. We both sat on the couch side by side, watching this live action Dragonball Z movie. Honestly I found it pretty entertaining and Joey was enthralled and quiet. There were times he giggled and other times he tried to explain Japan to me as if it was an alien planet.

I listened and watched and listened and watched. I absorbed everything. Joey tried to wake Logan, but atlas he had no luck.

Dinner came around, I had made a nice Gluten Free Lasagna. While we were waiting for the lasagna to cool, I dropped the bomb.

I was like, "SO Logan I watch Dragonball Z this morning. "

The child's expression went blank as if I had just told him I was going to walk on the moon in my pajamas while dancing the Chicken Dance.

His response, "No you didn't"

I said, " Yes I did. I know that Goku grandfather died and gave him a Dragonball for his 18th birthday. He had to find all seven dragonballs before Picolo did and wished for Ocryus to come back so he can rule the world. I know that Goku has Ocyrus deep inside him and that he turned into a animal thingy. I know that Goku fought the enemy within and chose to be good. And defeated Picolo. I know that he used all seven dragonballs to call forth the dragon to make a wish to bring back his master, who I cannot pronouce his name. AND I know he marries She She and they have a son named Gohan."

Logan's face was blank and a look of complete confusion swept over his face. Apparently moms are not suppose to know about Japanese animation. Besides the absolute shock from his face, there was a certain amount of wow there too. In fact, during dinner I babbled on and on about this and he stayed quiet. Finally my husband started getting angry because the two younger children were having a debate about Goku and his wife and their kids.

I looked at him like, you know this is what you get for having a thing for nerdy women. You married me, my inner nerd was going to eventually surface. That nerdiness was going to passed to at least one, if not all of our children. Now when my inner nerd arises it deeply disturbs my 16 year old and it is just a bonus to my day. However, I am concerned that I will have to put money away for some future therapy for the boy.

Joey's Story: The Cup

There are not many times when inspiration strikes or my children will do something funny that I debate on whether I should blog about it. Most of the time, I feel I must share a story. This particular one I have debated and debated. Finally I decided, I must share it.

Most people who know my youngest son knows that he is proud of his "parts", which I come to believe is normal as long as he knows not to show his "parts" off in public.

I do not share a bathroom with children, nor do I want to. All three are constantly arguing over flushing the toilet, apparently no one does but yet everyone does it. Not to mention, I think Taylor might kill one of the boys if they do not start lifting toilet seat.

Logan wanted to take a shower on Thursday, which is awesome. We encourage our children to shower, in fact we pretty much demand it. When one of our children wants to take a shower, we celebrate, especially the teenager.

SO Logan went to take a shower(on his own accord), and he came in the living room with a 32 oz Iron Man plastic cup. The conversation went a little like this:

"Mom, I think Joey peed in this cup."

"what??"

"I think Joey peed in the cup."

"what???" My brain was not processing this.

I got up and walked over to my oldest child and looked down in the cup. I then looked at Joey.

"NO." Joey responded.

I then gave him that do not lie to me look.

"Did you"?"

"Yes"

Then the next couple minutes were a little fuzzy because I was blinded by the fury within.

What ever I said or yelled in the next couple of minutes, I have no memory of. I just remember Joey sitting and crying on his bed.

For the next 15 minutes, almost everyone in the house sat quietly. I am not sure but I might have actually turned into the Hulk and my family was hoping that I turned from a green monster back to my everyday self.

So after the anger calmed, my husband walked into Joey's room. Two minutes later he walked out, with a look of confusion on his face.

"Joey told me that Logan did not flush the toilet two days ago, so he did not want the toilet to overflow. So he peed in the cup and left it by the shower."

With the fury rising again, " He is lying" was my only response. My husband just kept silent.

Later when I was calmer and tired of hearing Joey scream from his bed, "can I get up", I approached this child.

"Why did you pee in the cup joey?"

"I don't know?"

"Joey every one knows why they do something, no matter the reason, you know why you did what you did. Why did you pee in the cup?"

"I don't know?"

So I left the room due to the fear that I might turn into crazy mommy hulk.

Later that day, Joe took Joey to the store with him. I think he took because he was a little afraid of me at the time.

This incident is far beyond my reasoning. I have three sisters, maybe I am not use to boys. But Logan is 16, he has always been so private. He would not even urinate in the woods when were out and about when he was 4. It is hard for me to wrap my head around peeing in a cup and leaving beside the bathtub for two days. And I really do not think I want to know the real reason he did what he did. Maybe one day when he goes off to college he will shed some light on the situation. Maybe just maybe I will not be mad about it by that time. MAYBE

The End of Year ADULT Pool Party

Some stories just have to be told and this is one of them.

Let me start by giving you a back story. Every time one who has ever been to the pool know this one couple. They are notorious for being drunk........constantly. One particular incident led to the intoxicated man grabbing my noodle(my swim float), and putting it between his legs and riding it like a pony. Needless to say, the noodle was officially retired into the garbage on the way home and I fumed about for weeks.

So last night Honey Tree Apartments threw an end-of-the-year adult party. They went all out they hired belly dancers and TJ the DJ.

Now this party was a non-alcoholic party. However there was nothing to say that people could not drink before hand. The belly dancers got up and started their performance and it happened. The first intoxicated lady(who I am pretty sure had been drinking since the morning), got up and started dancing with the belly dancers. They looked a bit shocked. The girl was so smashed, she was dancing facing the wrong way and looking at herself in the glass doors behind her.

Finally the belly dancers finished up with requesting every one up on stage to dance with them. Now I am pretty comfortable with my self but I am completely sober, so that was not happening. A lot of people got up and it was cute.

Then it was time for TJ the DJ. He started spinning and then he started up the karaoke. First song sung......Sweet Home Alabama. Most of the people were not bad. We noticed that the drunk couple had been dancing provocatively randomly and they were getting a little hot and heavy.

Then it happened. Our former neighbor from the building with the fire, got up and asked us if we wanted to rock. Well of course and his response.......well it is not happening tonight.

Then he belted out a version of Under the Sea. The man sounded like Cookie Monster. It was truly the highlight of my night.

Quite a few more people got up and sang and the drunk inappropriate couple continued to randomly dance. I realized the drunk couple was the same couple who were always drunk at the pool and the man had put his privates on my noodle. They were both smashed.

And then it happened, the climax of the party. The lifeguard blew his whistle. He got up and walked around the pool because a woman in the pool was not responding. She was floating but not responding. He walked over to her side of the pool and blew the whistle. No response. He jumped in.

Apparently the woman had fell asleep or passed out, who knows. And he pulls her out of the pool. She is full of smiles. We are all watching in awe as the woman who came out of the pool was the same intoxicated woman who danced with the belly dancers and staring at herself. Apparently she was also good friends with the drunk couple.

Personally I think the three should sell their services as entertainment for adult parties.

Want to make your party a blast, call the drunk trio. They will act inappropriately and make every one uncomfortable, and send every one home with loads of laughs.

All and all it was fun. It was nice to get and have adult fun.

Logan and the Napkin

Well Friday night came and none of the children had plans. So they were all stuck with mommy. I decided to take the boys to get haircuts and get a few school supplies at Target. Knowing that taking all three children any where usually makes me literally insane. This particular night was particularity bad.

By the time we were done at Target I literally wanted to punch my husband square in the face. Not that he had done anything. Just because he was not there and he is my partner when it comes to dealing with them.

For some reason, they kids behave better when he is around. I have no idea why, because I have the biggest temper.

So knowing that I wanted to kill this man, he met us for dinner at Jason's Deli.

The first thing I saw on the counter was a Gluten Free sign, they now had GF bread. Finally my night was looking up. I ordered my sandwich(the first time in 6 months) and sat in anticipation.

About 15 minutes into the meal, it happened.

Let me frame this, some one in our house is always spilling something. I cannot tell you how many times Joey has dropped his drinks in various places in Richmond. Once when we went to the Richmond Flying Squirrels game, he dropped his hot dog and then I gave him mind because he was crying and he dropped mine.

He had already dropped his hot cocoa from Starbucks in Target. So I thought we had met our quota for the night.

I was wrong.

This time the guilty party was my daughter. She knocked over her almost full coke. The children had set at a different table on this glorious night because quite frankly I had enough of their faces.

So I look back and roll my eyes and told the teenager, who was vaguely staring at the mess waiting for to magically disappear, to go get napkins to clean up the mess.

Well the boy obvious did not notice the plural verbiage. So he trots back with one napkin. Yes that is right one napkin. If you did not get that, my 16 year old son ran and got one napkin to clean up an almost full glass of soda.

It was at that point that I looked at my husband and told him to look at the boy. His response, " the boy is going to live with us forever."

I had to know, "Logan why did you get one napkin?"

He shrugged and with his big puppy dog eyes and said, "I don't know."

It has now occurred to me that my husband is right. He is not moving out. Not because he has some infinite love for us and wants to stay with us,but because I do not think he would ever find his way out of parking lot. He would just drive around town wondering where his new place is located.

Logan and Joey: DS and Privates

Well it is quite obvious I should receive the award for the least mature parent of 2010.

I come in from Barnes and Nobles fuming because I was working on a paper and this group of people in the their golden years thought it necessary to sit next to me and use traditional means of conversing. I mean seriously who communicates without Facebook now a days. I digress.

So I walk in the door and the first thing my lovely husband says to me........"Ask me what your son did."

I fight the urge to run right back out the door and look at him and wonder which child did what. Logan was standing there with a proud look on his face.

So I bite," What did you do?"

Logan was never able to respond.

"Ask your son where he put Joey's DS"

No pause, " He put Joey's DS in his pants."

I immediately threw my hand over my mouth.

"Yeah, mom he stuck my DS on his penis and now it smells," Joey responded, "MOM, it is not funny, stop laughing."

I turned my head to where he could not see me and told him, " I am not laughing at that, I am laughing at something someone else told me the other day." (This is a classic line the kids have used on me many times)

It is at that time I looked up and see Logan was standing there. He was starting to realize I was too amused to punish him. Truly that is about the only way our children can escape trouble. Making us laugh is the valued asset in this house.

So with my hand over my mouth, I walked back to the room and started my lecture.

"LOGAN as a mom, I have to tell you that is horrible for you stick any of Joey's toys on your privates parts. But as an older sister.......hysterical."

"MOM", was the response from Joey in the background. "It is not funny that Logan put my DS on his nuts."

With that being said, it is air apparent I am least mature parent in the world. Sometimes I wonder who put me in charge in the first place.