Allowances

There are two types of parents regarding allowances: There are the ones that pay, and there are the ones that don't. I refuse to pay my children for doing things that they are already expected to do. Rio and Amaya do not receive an allowance. They view this as a huge injustice.

"Amaya go clean your room!" I demanded.

"How much will you pay me?" she asked.

"Excuse me? No one pays me to clean my room," I reminded her.

"All of my friends get allowances for doing their chores," she complained.

"And what chores do you have that you think you should be paid for?" I asked.

"Ummm...I clean my room...I rinse my dish...I make my bed...I take my showers..."

I laughed, "I'm not going to pay you to take a shower! If you don't want to take showers, you can stink! Let me know how that works out for you."

"I didn't mean showers," she corrected, "I couldn't think of anything else."

"You can't think of anything, because you don't do anything, Amaya," I stated the facts slowly. "If anyone should get paid in this house, it's me. Where's my allowance?"

"Dad says he gives you all of his money," Rio answered.

Heavy sarcasm, "Oh...is that what he tells you..."

SCORE:
Kids 1/ Mom 0

The Haircut

Tuesday night Rio informed me that his hair was way too long.  I agreed.  So I trimmed it for him.

"Mom...are you almost done?" he complained standing in the middle of the bathtub.

"Almost," I stalled, as I trimmed the back of his head. "Hold on," I diverted as I attempted to cut his unforgiving hair. "Okay..." Each cut lead to another cut.  After the front and back were trimmed, my confidence with the scissors grew and I went for the layers. "I got it!"

I stood back and looked proudly at my masterpiece. I put my fingers on top of his head and shagged his hair. I must say, his hair looked pretty darn good. WET!  But when it dried, it was obvious, I'm not a professional. 

"Rio, come in here," I said, guiding him by his hand into my bathroom.

"Oh, no...not more mom," Rio pleaded as he stood on top of the toilet.

"Real quick!" I promised.  "You can't go to school like that."  I took out the scissors and cut more. Someone should have stopped me.

"Are you done yet?" Rio asked.  "I know, hold on, okay, you got it," he laughed as he imitated me.

Feeling guilty for what I had done, I called my husband in for approval.  He didn't let me off the hook, instead he glared at me with eyes that asked Why? What have you done to his hair?  

"Oh come on!  It's not that bad!" I lied.

So I'm that mom! The mom who sends her child to school after butchering their hair.

"Did anyone notice your hair today at school?" I asked reluctantly.

"No, nothing, no one," he answered. "But I did get some funny looks," he confirmed my fears.

I took him for a real haircut immediately. 

When the girl at the salon looked at me funny...I blamed my husband.

Coupon for Mom

The most popular gifts in my house are hand made coupons. 

I've received the following coupons from Amaya and Rio, good for: I will clean my room, I will take out the trash, I will feed the dog, and I will watch T.V with you...to list a few.  All coupons for the things they do anyway, so I find these coupons amusing.

The most recent coupon was from Amaya, good for: Any lunch or dinner out of your choice for FREE!  I immediately put it inside my purse, swearing it would come to good use the next time the opportunity presented itself.

"You went to Togo's for lunch today Mom?" Amaya inquired.

"Yeah...why?" I asked.

"Well, did you use your coupon?"  Amaya asked urgently.

"No, I was by myself," I told her.

"Oh...well you can use it when ever you want." She then disclosed the coupon's terms for me. "It's an endless coupon, I can make more."

For weeks I've been interrogated by Amaya, regarding the dinner out coupon.  Have I used it, when will I use it, why didn't I use it?

Her questions have me asking my own questions.  Why would I use the coupon if I'm alone and does she think it actually has value? 

"She can't think it's a real coupon, right?" I asked my husband. "She's ten. She has to know the difference."

"I don't know?  She's ten and look how she spelled coupon," he pointed out.

 This might be a problem.
.

Potty Talk

Poop is the most popular topic in my house. I don't know why my kids find it so interesting, but they do.

"Mom, my poop was normal!" Rio yelled from the bathroom.

"Okay...great to know buddy!" I yelled back. "Was it not normal before?"

"Yesterday I had exploding poop!" Rio answered back.

"Exploding poop? What's that?" Amaya peeked her head out of her room, not wanting to miss the opportunity to engage in such a fascinating discussion.

Rio went on to explain the dynamics of an exploding poop when it gets flushed. I'll spare you the details.

This led to a debate where the two of them compared all poops ever pooped in this house. They took a vote that decided the exploding poop was the winner.

I may just start awarding ribbons.

Date Night

Date night is detrimental to my health. Without it, I become one frantic momma on the edge. I took date night for granted before my children were born, but now, it's a crucial tool my husband uses to maintain my sanity.

A typical date night is the usual, dinner and a movie. 

Dinner, because it's important I eat a meal once in awhile, free of hovering children waiting for the opportunity to put their fingers in my food.  Why do they have to touch my food?  I haven't the slightest clue.  They don't put their little fingers in my husband's food...ever.  

A movie, because it's a luxury to sit and watch anything from start to finish without explaining what's happening, travel five times to the bathroom, or listen to Rio give us his play by play narration.

"Don't you feel guilty..." people ask,  "leaving your children so you can go out?"

My answer is always the same...HELL NO!

Complimentary Shampoo Collection

Complimentary shampoos, lotions, and bath gels...what is so appealing about those little bottles displayed in a hotel bathroom? The obvious word comes to mind...free!

Even though the soap strips my skin of moisture, the shampoo dehydrates my hair, and the lotion leaves behind a waxy film that I spend all day scratching off with my finger nails. I can't help myself! I have to take them home with me.

"What is all of that?"  My husband asked, as he watched me dump out our toiletry bag into the bathroom sink.

"Shampoo," I answered frankly.

"Why do you have so much of it?" he questioned. 

"I don't know? Every night I threw them in my bag, and every day the maid brought me more."

"What's a shoe mitt?"  he teased, implying lunacy, while rummaging through the sink of goodies.

"I don't know but they gave me one," I told him.

"You know you're insane, right!"  He accused.

Later...I put my most recent complimentary items away...and there was only one little problem. 

I think I'm going to need a bigger box.

My husband may have a point.


.

Birthdays

Birthdays are a big deal!  I've been told, I tend to go a bit overboard.

I tell myself every year, "This is it.  Next year I'm only serving cake and ice cream."  But then I get an idea and I just can't help myself.

It doesn't take much to tickle my party bone, whether it's a treasure map invitation, a lady bug cake, a carnival game, or the opportunity to rent a dunk tank. All it takes is one idea to spread like wild fire.

Themed parties are my forte.  I'm not referring to the store bought prepackaged themes.  Those themes are for amateurs.  I'm a professional do-it yourselfer. My parties involve buckets of paint, props, and tricking random family members into volunteering their services. 

"Mom, what kind of party am I having this year?"  Rio asked the day after Amaya's birthday.

"Let me think about it..."  I told him.

Later that night Rio sat in astonishment as we attended a Medieval Times dinner show.  The five dollar flags we purchased as souvenirs weren't enough.

"Mom the small wooden sword is only twenty dollars," Rio pleaded.

"Only...twenty dollars? I can make you that sword for one dollar," I stated the obvious.

His face dropped, he was clearly disappointed. The swords were super cool, I couldn't blame him.

"How about I make them for your party," I proposed. "Then everyone who comes can get one."

"Okay!  But I'm the King!"  Rio declared.

This will be the last party, I swear! ?

Amaya

 Amaya's a girl who's thinks three meals ahead. Before breakfast, she's requesting dinner. At dinner, she's planning  lunch. At lunch, she's worried about breakfast. And snacks... snacks can cause a real migraine.

"Mom, what meat do we have in the freezer?" It's a question asked every morning while picking through her cereal.

"Why Amaya?" Is the common response, but I already know where the conversation is headed.

"I was thinking...maybe we can have spaghetti tonight?" Her most common request.

"Can we finish one meal before we plan the next?" I usually plead with frustration.

Amaya will nod her head, but the worried look on her face always says different.

"Have I ever forgot to feed you?" I try to remind her she's never gone without a meal.

For an incredibly picky child, she sure is worried that she won't get to eat. If it were up to her she would live on spaghetti, tuna, and avocados.

After breakfast, like clockwork, Rio will find me.

"Can we have spaghetti tonight?" Rio asks.

I roll my eyes and sigh. "You hate spaghetti. Remember?"

"Oh...well, Amaya told me to ask," he'll confess.

"Amaya!" I yell through the house. "Quit sending Rio to do your dirty work!"

Numb Tongue

Every time I tried to swallow I would gag on my tonsils, but my only other option was to drool instead.

My numb tongue felt fat and swollen. When I spoke I slurred my words similar to an uncle that liked to polish off a bottle of Gin discretely in the back bathroom at Christmas.

The left side of my face was asleep, and when I smiled I resembled a stroke victim. My teeth were big and the inside of my cheek was bleeding.

As karma had it, I broke a tooth the other day while flossing. And that broken tooth, broke my seven year boycott of the dentist.

I forgot how fun it was to get a Novocaine shot.  My dentist kindly reminded me.

"Mom, thoo you wanth me thoo thake a thower afther thinner?"  Amaya asked as she imatated me.

Yeah, she's a hoot.

Kid Cuisine

I used to love to cook, but lately...I have to admit, cooking isn't my top priority. So I let my kids make dinner last night. But really, they insisted on helping and then took over. 

Amaya did the potatoes and Rio was in charge of the griddle.

"Mom! I'm bleeding!" Amaya panicked. "It stings! It stings, it stings, it stings." 

"Stop being so dramatic. Go get a band aid," I told her.

"Rio! Go get me a band aid," she ordered.

"No...you go get it!" he responded back. "You're not dying!"

The second Amaya left the sink, Rio was in her spot, peeling her potatoes. Amaya came back to the kitchen to find her little brother doing her job.

"Mom!  He's in my spot!"  she protested. "Fine, Rio...I'm going to do your job then."  She tried to control the situation. "Rio, where's the spatula?" she demanded, holding out her hand.

Rio didn't answer, he just kept quietly peeling the potatoes. This infuriated her.

"Rio, the hamburger patties are burning! I have to flip them! Mauuuuum..."

"Someone please flip the patties," I demanded.

"Rio, don't use that!" Amaya bossed. "Mom he hid the spatula on the floor, under the cabinets...gross."

"What?" Rio answered the look I shot him, while he wiped the spatula off on the front of his shirt.

"Wash it," I told him. "We don't use cooking utensils that have been on the ground."

The end result. Well done hamburger patties, unevenly cooked potatoes, burnt corn, and a gallon of lumpy gravy. 

"Why does my stomach hurt so bad?" My husband moaned after our chefs were in bed.

I cited the obvious. This could do wonders for our waistlines.

.

Be More Specific

Friday is the worst day to have a problem.  So I was ecstatic when Rio chose today to inform me about the hole in his tooth. 

"Mom...it hurts to brush the hole in my tooth." He complained from the bathroom.

I inspected, and sure enough, half of his top back right molar was missing. 

To get an appointment last minute on a Friday, with the dentist, is next to impossible.  It's like pulling teeth.  I had to exaggerate, embellish, and plead with the receptionist.  Fortunately, negotiations went well and she squeezed him in. 

After the appointment was booked I pulled him out of school and drove him to the dentist.

"I don't know what I did with the baggy..."  Rio casually mentioned from the backseat.  "The dentist probably needs it,"  he added.

"What baggy?" I questioned.

"The one with my tooth in it,"  he explained.

"What tooth Rio?"

"The one that cracked at school,"  he said.  "I heard a crack when I was eating, then I pulled part of my tooth out of my mouth."

"When did this happen?"

"Ummm...a couple weeks ago,"  he continued, as I shook my head in disbelief.  "I put it in my sandwich baggy for you."

"Why didn't you tell me what happened?" 

"You didn't ask."

Apparently, it's not enough to ask what happened at school today.

Now I know to be more specific.

This kid...unbelievable.
.

♥ Valentine's not Valentime's ♥



It's that time of year, again.  Valentine's Day, not Valentime's Day, VALENTINE'S.  I know, it's a subtle difference, but there is a difference.

"Mom, I need my Valentime's by tomorrow!"  Amaya stated with urgency.  "My teacher said!"

"It's V-a-l-e-n-t-i-n-e,"  I corrected her.

"Okay, V-a-l-e-n-t-i-n-e..." she mocked me.  "I still need them."

At the store we stood in front of the impressive boxed card display and making a decision was impossible.  Amaya thought they were all so cute and wanted to buy her top three picks.  Obviously the answer was no. 

Rio quietly stared up at the shelves.  His eyes big with want.

"Which ones do you like?"  I asked him.  Not prepared for his answer.

"Um...I thinking...I want to get all of the girls...a bear, or a dog, or a frog, or something,"  he said.

"Well, how many girls are in your class?"  I asked.

"I don't know?" he answered. "A lot!"

"What?  He's in second grade!"  I said, leaning into my husband. 

"You know what...I was the same way."  My husband laughed into my ear.  He was proud of his little Casanova.

It was amusing.  But there are close to fifteen girls in his class.  The bears are five dollars each.  All I could see were dollar signs. 

So I had to break out my best negotiating skills, and I was able to persuade him with some pretty fantastic Sponge Bob Valentine's that came with lolly-pops.

"Can we do our Valentime's when we get home?" Amaya asked, as were leaving the store.

"It's V-a-l-e-n-t-i-n-e!  Gees, Amaya!"  Rio corrected her.

    

                                                           

Back to Normal

Everything is back to normal.  That is, if normal includes piles of laundry, a sink full of dishes, and playing referee to the game of  "he touched me...no, she touched me first."

Rio started the morning doing flips on his bed, kicking a soccer ball through the house, and terrorizing his sister.

Amaya took her sweet time eating her Cheerios...a solid 30 minutes.  Then decided she should kick her brother.

Surprisingly, we left for school on time and everything was peaceful in the car.  Until it wasn't.

"He's on my side!"  Amaya yelled.

"Stop pushing me!"  Rio yelled back.

"Really!"  I yelled at them through the rear view mirror.  "We're ten feet from the drop off, and you want to start this now?"

They got out of the car as I reminded them to have a nice day.

My day went by so quick without them.  Too quick.  I enjoyed the peace and quiet so much I forgot to pick them up from school.

That will teach them to fight in the car.
.

Sick and Tired

February started just as pleasantly as January.  I'm being punished for skipping the flu shot. 

Today I woke up feeling better but exhausted.  The cough that has moved in is keeping me up all night so during the day all I want to do is sleep. 

Sleeping causes other problems.  I wake up to a puddle of wetness on my pillow and my sleeve with my hair plastered to the side of my face.  Even in sleep I'm aware of the torturous sore throat I have.  The drooling is completely involuntary.

It's Monday.  So imagine my excitement of sending the kids off to school.  First I drag Amaya out of bed by her ankles.

"Get up!"  I yell.  "You're going to be late."  This is due to me hitting  the snooze button repeatedly.

I go into Rio's room.  I try to shake him conscious.  He's burning up.

"Mom, my throat hurts,"  he complains.

I grab a flashlight to inspect his tonsils.  After all I am a throat expert.

"Uh-oh..."  I say.  "Looks like you're staying home." 

Then I remember.  What about my sleep?  I'm devastated. 

"You know if you stay home today, you're staying in bed?" 

"I know." 

"No video games, TV, or playing outside."

He was fine with that. So we slept all day.

The only thing worse than waking up on my own saturated pillowcase, is rolling over into his.  

♥

No One Likes a Tattle Tale

Today Rio was sent home from school with a discipline slip.

"Mom look what Rio has for you,"  Amaya said, handing me a slip from Rio's teacher.

A discipline slip.  It states:  Grabbing clothes of others around the neck. 

This is the second discipline slip this year.  The first one was for not following the one set of rules that the school has in place for tether ball.

"Rio,"  I said. "Come here."

"Ya..."  He said with his head hanging low as he approached me.

"What happened?"  I asked.  "You grabbed someone by their shirt?"

"Yes,"  he answered.

"Why?"

"I don't know?"  he answered.

"Was it because you were mad?"  I asked.

"No, we were playing,"  he said.  "And grabbing is part of the game.  You have to catch the other person.  He grabbed me too."

"Okay, well it isn't okay to grab people by their shirt.  Especially around the neck, it's dangerous,"  I told him.

"I know.  We were just playing a game,"  he said. 

"Did you tell your teacher that the other boys were playing like that too?"

"No."

"Why not?"  I asked.

"Because they're my friends and I don't want to get them in trouble,"  he said.

And he's right. No one likes a tattle tale.

.

The Limp

Last week Rio hurt his ankle.  He twisted it while my mom was picking him up from school.  He came into the house hopping on one foot.

"Mom, Rio's hurt!"  Amaya called out with panic in her voice, as they entered the front door.

Rio told me what happened, not leaving any detail out.  As I removed his shoe and sock the expressions on his face told me to be very gentle.

"Let me go get the ankle brace for you,"  I said.

"Do you think he really needs it?"  my mom asked.

"No.  But if he's okay after it's on, we'll know it's not serious."   

After the ankle brace was on he hopped around, limped, and still grunted with pain. 

"Maybe he's not faking,"  I thought.

A couple hours later it was time for soccer camp.  Guess who was miraculously healed.  Rio's limp was gone.  It didn't bother him on the field or inside the goal.  It didn't stop him from spinning or doing cartwheels when he was supposed to be paying attention.

At home after soccer the mysterious limp returned.  He hobbled down the hall to his room to put on his pajamas. 

"Rio, why are you limping?"  I asked.

"Remember..."  he drew out.  "I hurt it." 

The next day, same thing.  The following day after that, same thing.  The day of his soccer game, same thing.  So on and so on.  I thought he had forgotten about his ankle until last night, when I saw him hobble past the office. 

"Rio are you okay?"  I asked.

"Gese, what does it take to get some attention?"  he asked while limping towards me.

Apparently bleed.

Socks Are Required

I'm the last person on earth to criticize someone for thinking that the rules don't apply to them.  Rules are made to be broken!  I believe this.  Common sense is another story.

At McDonald's today my mom and I sat next to the glass separating us from the play structure.  Partly because the lack of tables inside, but it was more due to the aroma of food mingled with the smell of sweat and feet.

Rio came to the table and I snapped.  "WHERE ARE YOUR SOCKS?!"  His eyes got big...he was caught.  "Go put them on right now!"  I hoped the ten second rule still applied.

Then my mom pointed out a dozen other children not wearing socks either.  Then she took the hand sanitizer from her purse and placed it on the table.

"It's so he can run up the slide,"  Amaya tattles.

"Well, you aren't supposed to go up the slide,"  my mom reminds her.

Unbelievable!  Don't those mothers care?  Do they not know why that rule is in place?  I'm horrified (and I'm okay if Rio eats dirt).  There's really no excuse when they sell socks at the counter for one dollar.

The "socks are required" sign wasn't posted by the fun police trying to ruin their day.  It's a rule that is posted for people who lack common sense.

Now I have to go Lysol my kids!

Big Mistake!

Amaya's had a fever and headache for seven days.  She's been in bed most of the week and we've exhausted all of the medicine in our medicine cabinet, to make her more comfortable, twice. 

Sick isn't any way for a child to spend their winter break.

This afternoon it was Rio's turn.  It seemed to hit him like a brick wall.  One minute he was playing, and the next he was crying, lying on the couch, with a headache and a fever.  Poor kid.

I gave him a Tylenol.  Big mistake!  It worked too well.  Was it laced with crack?  He's bouncing off the walls, talking a hundred miles a minute, and terrorizing Amaya.

Evidently being sick doesn't affect him the same way it does his sister.

I can't wait for the Tylenol to wear off.  I'm switching him to Benadryl.
.

"Honesty's the Best Policy"

The honesty bug has bit my mother.

We went shopping.  After my mom found a safe spot to park in the back, she noticed an SUV.  We get out and she says, "Look how dark those windows are!  Why did you get a ticket?"

"Because I got caught..."  I answered with sarcasm.

"Oh...and no front license plate.  That's illegal!"  She said as she walked to the back of the vehicle to check if the SUV was from out-of-state.  "Well the license plate says Doctor so-in-so."

I laughed, "Maybe she wrote herself a prescription for photo-sensitivity."

As we hiked toward the store a lady, who clearly heard all that was said, passed us.  "It's her, way to go mom." I teased.

Because of the look she gave us, I'm sure she walked past her car and pretended it wasn't hers until the coast was clear.  I can't blame her.


In the store she had no problem telling the cashier making minimum wage that they had no business having her personal information.  "I was here last week and you didn't need to scan my Driver's License."  She stated as she handed the girl a check, with all of her information printed in the upper left corner.

The poor girl answered, "It's so the store knows it's your check."

"It's because they can't read the license." I added.

"When did this change?"  She questioned with suspicion.  "I don't like it."

"I'm just doing my job Ma'am."  The girl sighed.

To diffuse the situation I added, "The guy behind us gave up and jumped in another line."

"It's not my fault she couldn't help me."  She snapped, pointing to the security sensor that had to be unlocked by a manager.

I teased her some more.

We left the store and she asked, "Where to next."

I told her and laughed. Then suggested she wait in the car.  She didn't.

School Pictures



2



1







3



4



Can you guess which picture I hung on my wall?

If you guess the first one, you would be correct. That is how they hooked me. They meaning professional school photographers.Take one good picture, then I'll be dumb enough to pay in advanced for years to come. 

It started in Kindergarten, when the school sent home a flier for picture day with pose and background options, and an assortment of picture packages to choose from.  The flier also stated:  "All photos must be paid for in advance.  Please send cash or check in the attached envelope with your child on picture day."

I remember thinking, "What?  Pay for pictures before I see them, how stupid is that."

Reluctantly I ordered the pictures.  And they turned out great!  The first picture really does capture who he is.  I didn't know it would be all downhill from there.

Now all I can do is try to suppress the disapproving mother in me that starts to surface when I open up his school pictures.  I force a slight smile and look up at Rio...but I can't resist.

Picture 2

"Why did you smile like that?"

"The lady told me to."  He said.  "Do you like them?"

"Very nice."  I said raising my eyebrows. I put the pictures back in the envelope and conveniently lost them in the office.  I convinced myself that the next one would be better.

Picture 3

"Here mom."  Rio handed me his school pictures.

"Rio!  What kind of smile is that?"  I asked, noticing all of his bottom teeth.

"She didn't like my mouth shut, she said to smile big and show teeth."  He explained.

"Okay."  Those also disappeared in the office.

Picture 4

What do you think I said.  Well...not what I wanted. 

"Mom, and you were worried about them combing our hair stupid."  Amaya pointed out.

So I've learned my lesson.