Monster Trucks and Insomnia

Has anyone else been woken up in the middle of the night (especially during pregnancy when sleep is so hard to come by) of a monster voice (completely loud, scary and distorted)? Been forced to face your fears (toddler in tow) sneaking around the house (slightly terrified and not so slightly exhausted) just to find the source of this hellish sound? No? Doesn’t ring a bell? Hmm,
Well…
What if I tell you the source was a battery operated (freaking) toy!!! Maybe now you follow me??
I seriously looked everywhere- EVERYWHERE before I found it, tripping on boxes and random stuff (did I mention we are moving??) and stepped on my fair share of little Legos (ouch! Why will they be the last thing we pack?)
Guess where I found this Devils device?
In the completely natural, as well as logical, place for a black and orange toy truck…- in the shower!

That was my night last night, unable to fall back asleep, even if my princess (no way that was her nickname in the pitch black house where everyone else seemed to be sleeping just fine) eventually did. I laid their cursing my inability to relax my body enough to just slip away- and then- as usual the thoughts come. The scare that is pregnancy, the lack of control, the worry, the fear of history repeating itself- except this time way, way worse…

It had been kind of a weird week, it started with something really odd happening. I felt that I at least had to mention it to my nurse but like I told her the “story” was kinda hard to explain without the Lego cars and Duplo people (that is how I explained to mom over Skype and hubby after work).

I drove my kids to my son’s school as usual in the morning- kinda late- also as usual. When I park I see that someone is sitting in the car next to me, she appeared to be on her phone and without kids in the car- obviously she hadn’t been late. As I rush my 4 year old and his “why questions” out of the car armed with his latest art project, lunch boxes (snack AND lunch), going back to the front seat for the “lunch bunch ticket”, putting shoes back on (at least I didn’t forget them), I see in the corner of my eye that the mom in the next car puts her phone down and turns her car on. I am late so I attempt to catch her eye. Maintaining eye contact, assuming that we get each other I move my way into the tight space (remember I’m not exactly skinny mini nowadays…not that I ever was…but…just saying). She is in one of those ginormous SUVs (black and hard to distinguish from all the rest) sitting very high up. I judge that I can still get darling daughter out of her car seat (and in my arms) but I did NOT count on her starting to back out. I must say I have a split second to panic slightly- she sees us right? Again I think we are on the same page as I signal to her that I will move me and my son out of the way so that she can pull out. As I close the door on my girl I realize that the driver and I are not on the same page- AT ALL…

I push my (luckily very skinny) son flush against the car while I turn towards the huge car in the very tight space as she rapidly reverses-taking the corner- AND my stomach with some speed. I actually scream, flailing my arms for her stop as my big tummy pretty much gets smashed by the left front of her vehicle…

She does see my then- looking surprised and slightly confused…did she not see the whale with feet trying to safely get her kids to school on time?

She then tries to pull forward again, making it worse by squishing my baby bump yet again. I yell for her to stop and she comes to an abrupt halt- actually looking appropriately scared now.

I managed to squeeze myself (not easy people) as I push my son (who is completely fine by the way) back towards the back of my own car. As soon as my sore stomach, son and I have reached the back of our car she reversed again and speeds away…

I get my daughter and we speed away ourselves- by foot that is- towards class.

Hours later I can actually feel the pain. I google the heck out of what I had just experienced but I think google is even more confused than myself.

What the heck happened this morning??
I know however that baby is probably perfectly fine in her (his?)  cushiony cocoon- me- not so much.

Later on both my sister and my mom agree that baby should be okay but that I should ask the nurse just in case, that the mom driver probably sat up too high to see my huge belly…but why oh why did I not even take her license plate number…? (I guess that was the last thing on my mind…and anyways what would that help?!?)

The week continues with another urinary tract infection and I wouldn’t even be worried except during my last pregnancy  a UTI developed into a full blown kidney infection…which might have been what caused my water to break prematurely…so yeah- worried!
We had to stop by the pharmacy to pick up my prescription on the way back from my son’s school.

Both kids are in rare form. My daughter refuses the cart and decides to run around pushing everything off the shelves while my son is whiny and super loud- asking (yelling) for some cookies. I rather not hold my girl too much right now but the adorable toddler turned shoplifting maniac doesn’t give me much choice as she stuffs her clothes with chocolate and some random medication (wait are those…condoms?). Returning the stuff is challenging while holding the squirming animal, bending and lifting while simultaneously managing a preschooler who screams that I am leaving him and that I’m being a bad mama! (Pleasant isn’t he!?). As we stand in line (kind of- at least I am trying) to finally pick up the antibiotics I can both see and feel the stares. This man actually goes as far as asking the old guy in front of him “can you even stand these screaming kids?” I want to snap back but I’m all out of energy, besides they are both being REALLY annoying. Even the pharmacist promises several times that we are almost done with the transaction and that I absolutely don’t need a consultation on how to take these pills. Who is he trying to convince me or himself. As my son screams for me to stop pushing him when I simply try to steer him towards the automatic doors I see the mixed looks of pity, understanding and pure irritation. They are all probably looking at my huge belly, thinking I can’t even handle the two I already have!!

To round up my week- my big ultrasound followed by my regular obgyn check up imagedidn’t exactly go as expected…

 

Yes Sir! and old forgetful Mamas…

Of course it’s the cheery, “earthy” teacher and of course there is no lunch bunch- it’s FRIDAY!!

I’m mortified (I’ve never thrown on clothes so fast or waken my poor baby letting her tag along in pajamas and wet diaper) which I also tell the teacher as I run inside the now (almost) empty classroom. “I’m absolutely mortified”.

I did have a vision of my son getting sadder and sadder as his little friends left with their mommies one by one until he was all alone, abandoned and crying. That, however does not seem to be the case. Little man seems absolutely thrilled to be having some alone time with his loving teacher (probably nicer and a lot more patient than his mommy…and she would obviously have remembered him…obviously).

For heavens sake, I forgot my child, FORGOT!! I’m a horrible, horrible mom!

“Honey don’t be! You know these things happen”, looking like they most certainly DO NOT- not in her world (I’m feeling awful and ashamed and… Just horrible). “Just wait until you forget them when they are in high school” hmm, now, what does that even mean? Slightly confused I continue to apologize (which she lets me a serene smile on her “no make-up” face. “But we were having such a pleasant time weren’t we?” Turning to my son who smiles smugly “no lunch bunch today, it’s FRI- DAAAY mooom!!” Well, okay, hmm, could I be feeling any worse!?

I back out of the classroom hoping I’m looking remorseful enough, cranky toddler on my hip (who does not like being woken up roughly or rushed) and drag my son along. Performing a whole other walk of shame towards our car passing the perfect moms who are now (AFTER school) having perfects picnics with their perfect little offspring on the green grass, and the preschool office where the door is open and the director ask how I am? “Well” I respond “better now” as she chuckles, she is probably judging me too.
Not one of my finer mommy moments!

I take the kids to Subway and a little bit of shopping (for kids clothes only) to make (myself) everyone feel better. I still can’t let my son have a cookie before he finishes his sandwich however and when he brings up the “no lunch bunch” for the tenth time I have had enough. “I forgot, okay!? I didn’t know, this was the first Friday and I just didn’t KNOW” I can hear myself screaming and feel people starring at the mall food court. Well, I am being rather loud now, ain’t I, but I can’t seem to calm down so I only get louder “so there is no excuse for you NOT to eat your sandwich (which is just cheese-nothing else, not toasted) so just eat it or NO cookie- EVER!!!” I even stun myself and apparently my son, his reply being “Yes Sir!”

Gap kids has a sale for member only and I have calmed down as I make the honest promise to myself to be the “nicest mommy ever”… For the rest of the day. My little preschooler is being extra helpful (probably sensing an impending mommy mental break down) and runs around looking for his size “with a 4 on it”, then he looks for a 1 for the baby (no time to explain the whole month system). I even let him get some rather hideous buffalo socks! Before we pay he asks how old I am, with a grimace I half whisper “35”. “Why are you whispering mama?”
“Because mama is really old”,  he looks puzzled for a second then he announces that he will be right back. I see him from my place in line, scanning the racks of clothes, flipping the hangers, ready to abandon my place as soon as he wanders off but instead he comes skipping back handing me a dress in pink!

Size 3-5!

Perfect!

“Even old people need clothes mommy!”
Dang, isn’t he just adorable!!!

Nauseaus insurance apt and fun movie night at the park!!

It’s not that I’m nervous, because I’m not anymore (no, really!). I’m feeling physically nauseous, the room is actually spinning. I had a mommy-son date day with my 4 year old this morning (eh noo I wasn’t drinking). It was great fun as we watched a movie and then grabbed lunch and did some book shopping, but maybe that was the problem 9not the books). I didn’t really have breakfast and all those popcorn before lunch. Anyways there are about five minutes before the stern (rude) insurance lady is due (no doubt she will be right on time if not early) and my stomach is doing backflips. I look so pale (with a weird shade of green) as I look in the mirror trying to decide if I have to throw up. So typical, either I’m coming down with something or it was those darn popcorn and then lunch on top of it- way to plan when I knew I had this important meeting. Now I’m not even nervous about answering the stupid questions (do you hang glide, skydive, parachute out of jet planes on a regular basis?) but about not getting good lab results because of how I’m feeling lightheaded and faint.

Baby girl refuses to go with nanny (and when I say refuse…I mean refuse) so I have to get blood drawn, answer questions and pee, all with her on my arm. She (not baby) also checks my heart rate, elliptical is extra fun the way I’m feeling!, and of course blood pressure. She is at least not telling me to go check myself in to a hospital right away and I do make it until the end. Only 7-10 days until we get the results back. No biggie!

So that weekend, the one before school starts we go to the very last “movies at the park” before summer ends. What a great initiative for our community to get people together for some (free!!) fun for kids and adults! There is face painting, balloon animals, popcorn and hotdogs. We have packed our own picnic and brought blankets and pillows. This was going to be a great family night! We are catching a “penguin movie” and our big boy sure is excited! Baby girl is not sure what is going on, she is just happy to be hanging out with her whole family…and then there are the bouncy houses! Why oh why did we ever decide that it was okay for her to try jumping in one?. We probably thought she would bounce with her brother for a while and then move on to the next activity without any fuss. Gosh were we wrong about this strong willed little one. She can be kind of feisty at times and as she looooved to bounce, there was no stopping her!

When we first let her jump, we had the whole bouncer to ourselves. She was alone in there with her brother (and we stupidly thought he would be the bigger problem). Once other kids started to climb in we immediately decided to take her out… Except she clearly had other plans. She refused to come even close to us as we awkwardly reached for her in the slim opening of the bouncer, she just giggled and kept bouncing. She is way to young, I kept thinking, she will get hurt. As her big brother and two other older kids were jumping she would just fly around in there, laughing but seconds- according to paranoid mommy- from getting seriously hurt. I begged the other kids to stop bouncing just for a moment so we could get in there and grab her. What a buzz kill! I let daddy do the honer and he did catch her but her disappointment was huge. She was livid, screaming and kicking us, waving her little arms, throwing her head back in protest “whyyyy?? Would you do that to me” she seemed to be yelling (and let me tell you she was yelling) “that was sooo much fun!!!”

Well, the night, although fun overall kind of went downhill from there. Princess is crazy focused on those bouncy houses and won’t let it go (she actually escapes us both once almost making it all the way in!). Our son has a major meltdown because first he wants his face painted like a dinosaur (T-Rex duh!) and then well…he doesn’t. Daddy gets his boy a balloon animal but not his girl – that didn’t go over well…lets just say he had to stand in line all over again…for almost an hour…missing the start of the movie…oh and also his food got cold!

Speaking of food, as we dig out our picnic from the cooler someone forgot the potatoes (mama is not happy) and someone forgot his favorite pillow (ahhh). As the movie starts, little girl thinks it’s okay walking around socializing. Surprisingly it’s NOT okay with most people trying to watch the movie in quiet with their families. She screams however when I try to haul her back to our blanket- we didn’t bring lawn chairs because the website clearly states “no lawn chairs”…of course everyone brought lawn chairs. And here I was under the delusion that she would cuddle up and sleep in my arms since hello! It’s way past her bedtime. I was even ready to offer up some nursing, I brought the cover (which she hates) and everything. She just keeps biting me with an evil laugh and off she goes. Nobody is enjoying her antics so I leave dad and son to watch the movie in peace while I take her for a walk. Except it’s pitch black anywhere that’s not lit up by the giant screen and I can’t even see where I’m walking.

The walking does not put this little independent diva to sleep, she wants to WALK! So we walk around and around and then we nurse in the park bathroom, at least the lights are on in here. Until they are NOT. It is darker than outside if possible and I hear people leaving, hoping that we are not locked in here for good and that in that case people will start looking for us…eventually…

I find my way out following the walls while holding the now sleepy little madam AND we find our way back to the correct blanket and the rest of our family. Puh! That was not easy let me tell you!

As soon as I settle in with baby girl, my husband’s arm around us and our boy in between us, something happens and the huge blow up screen falls apart, slumping like a sad popped balloon. Maybe it’s time to leave now (we gave it our best effort after all) we suggest this to our son. He gets so upset it’s not even worth getting up, so we sink back down again only to quiet him down. Problem is…

Little lady is yet again wide awake because all of the drama…

Another walk around, shorter this time because frankly the park in the dark away from all the people is not that tempting. Luckily little man announces after about ten more minutes that his little sister is now scared of the movie!

And that is that folks! Summer movie fun at the park!

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A pretty medium, slightly stinky, criminal mom!

I actually have to wait a while with this Target guy watching me (apparently I was planning on stealing several items…and told him about it…despite my cart overflowing of stuff and the clever cover of my two whiny kids).

I just want to get out of there-after I pay of course (I promise) and so do my kids. I get increasingly annoyed but I also kind of feel for the guy. I know that in his head, he is just trying to do what is right.

By now though, I totally feel like abandoning my cart (well I would take my kids out first) and just leaving. But ever the polite one, I stand there for what seems like forever until an older women with big brown hair jogs over (she actually is jogging, not walking, not running, jogging!). Ah, so what now? Do I explain myself? I sigh as one of my kids screams for ice cream and the other one is trying to (repeatedly) manage a suicide bungee jump from the red shopping cart.

I actually don’t have to explain myself since first the guy does it for me (emphasizing the word “STEAL” several times) and then the bouncy (I assume it is the) manager apologizes…to me.

I mean of course I’m not surprised but I still get relieved, maybe I can take my kids and leave now, AFTER paying for all our other items of course!

The manager lady explains that (insert name here) he always takes things too literally but that he doesn’t mean anything by it, he is just trying to follow the rules…he is really very sweet (and to quote Seinfeld) yada, yada, yada…

We make it out of there (without being arrested), and all I’m thinking is …

That we could all use some ice cream!

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It all goes well and the ice cream does taste quite delicious until baby girl gets chocolate ice cream on her cute pink little jump suit…

A lot of chocolate ice cream…brown…stinky? Ice cream…

Except, of course it’s NOT ice cream, and of course we still have the cart with all the stuff (that we stole from Target…too soon? Ok, just kidding…) and of course this brilliant mama used the spare pants in the diaper bag at the last freaking poop explosion (sorry baby, not your fault…after all your criminal mommy is stuffing you with ice cream…should be illegal, okay, okay, I’m done!).

I decide that we first have to find our white rental car (whole other story trust me…I’ll give you a hint; brakes gave out…and up!) and then a restroom, in that order. Great plan because what would we do with all the stuff? Except baby is seriously leaky…and even strangers are starting to notice the smell (sorry strangers…and again, sorry baby girl) and of course I can’t find the dang car!

My son finds it for us, but unfortunately his mom is too dense to trust him, thinking “this car is too big to be the one we got…and how would a 4- year be able to find the right car anyways? (Only day two of driving it)”

Well, he could and he did…so while mommy wasted valuable time searching for a car her kid found…and found again, she (meaning me) could have avoided some serious leakage (on my own clothes included). Sorry Target, I’m just gonna go change this in your restroom… and then point me in the direction of the baby clothes please…
And oh I might need some of my returned clothes back!

Of course this week I’m right back at Target returning stuff. I tell the lady “no there is nothing wrong with the items but these (work-out pants) are too big, and this one (matching work-out bra) is too small (would have been worse the other way around which has also happened…trust me). As she takes the items back, my four year old turns his big brown eyes up to me and says “one is too large, the other one too small, that means that you are in the middle because you are MEDIUM mama!” (Where does he get everything from…and who taught him that?) Well, there you have it! I’m in the middle…and quite medium!

Apparently when you are a mom you just FIX IT…

After dinner, on our way to the car there is an unfortunate round, artsy fountain looking thing with water basically shooting out from the ground…

Yes, you guessed it, I told my son “we are not playing in the water, we are going straight to the car” several times before walking by it. His little friend was allowed to play near the water and run for a little bit (it is then so difficult to deny your son to do the same but the other boy’s behavior at dinner was definitely better than my boy’s, so he had earned some run and play time). That is exactly what he did; he ran and he played. I stood firm in my decision however, that we were saying bye and going to the car.

My son had other plans (what else is new?). He let go of my hand as I struggled to hold on to the squirming baby (you know how babies get) and he went straight for the water!

He was soaked and laughing by the time I got ahold of him. I wasn’t…

Laughing that is, I was more like…boiling…

What now? It’s not like I wanted to be “that mom” yelling and screaming at my son in a public place (in front of my friend and her kid) while juggling the baby and also trying to hold on to his slippery body to keep him from running right back to the water. I felt it though, the anger…oh how I felt it. The cones, the dinner, the obvious disobedience! But I swallowed it trying to remember that he is just a little boy wanting to have fun and not understanding why the rules are there… for a reason. In my head I frantically yell, no TV, no iPad, no Legos, no freaking dinosaurs…no fun!! EVER again!

I look at the reason I said “no water” though right now.  There was obviously no way he could just innocently play NEAR the water, casually watching it like his friend. Nop, of course not (that would be so out of character!) Now he is blue lipped and shivering, “mommy, I’m cold…Shirt and pants please”…

Back to the bad mama title…I did not have a change of clothes with me for him (baby yes! Four year old, no!)

This was quite the dilemma for multiple reasons; he was literally wet all the way through his clothes and I didn’t even have a towel that he could sit on in his car seat. He hates getting his clothes wet and wants to change out of them immediately (I know so ironic, right?!…I certainly didn’t get him into this situation but apparently when you are a mom it doesn’t matter…you are still suppose to make it right- you still have to be there to FIX IT, and I have a sneaking suspicion that will not end any time soon). The other issue was that we had to pick up some groceries on the way back home (in desperate need of some yoghurt, water and wipes…I know, bad mama planning…but to be fair to, well me…their dad forgot some stuff at his last grocery trip, and baby now drinks these drinkable yoghurts too… bottom line being, we now have to buy more).

I’m pretty sure they won’t allow a wet and NAKED boy at the grocery store (in one of the fancy neighborhoods too…not that that matters, but you know…), even if he is four!

Luckily my ever so resourceful friend had an old change of clothes (size 3 t) for her son that she lets us borrow!

What would I have done without these clothes? Probably driven home with a naked little guy strapped into his car seat, no yoghurt at nighttime for my littlest and no wipes for baby’s next poopy diaper…

What happens at the store is not even funny and I’m don’t want your pity anyways…

Well, okay maybe I do…a little.

Just so you do get an understanding of why I finally snapped I will give you a sneak peak into my Thursday night (turning way later than I planned and ended up way passed bedtime). Let’s just say it involved a tower of apples getting knocked down with what seemed like hundreds of bright red apples rolling frantically in all different directions of the store (you don’t have to tell me, I KNOW this has happened before), someone chocked on a bread roll and managed to throw up, someone got bit, someone got pinched (in retaliation), someone stole (don’t worry the item was returned…along with my sanity)

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and someone had a nervous breakdown!

Well there you have it! That’s all folks!

“Boys will be boys”…

It’s been a year since I last took my son to soccer. Then he had a really difficult time following directions and more importantly understand them (soccer balls are definitely not dinosaur eggs! And why should I chase you now, when I wasn’t allowed to a while ago?). He was barely 3 years old and had a brand new sister at home and more ants in his pants than the soccer coach could handle. I stood at the sidelines trying to help and stay involved but truth be told, I was honestly mostly nursing the baby (like every five minutes-still hadn’t gotten the hang of the whole breastfeeding in the baby carrier yet while standing/covering up) and I was also concerned about my little preemie getting too much sun, getting too hot, being exposed to germs…you name it. Which by the way I now realize was maybe not fair to my little guy, but you know what? The baby really needed me back then (like desperately) and it wasn’t like my boy was unhappy. He ran around like a little wild horse, managing to do exactly the opposite of whatever the coach was telling them to do. Thank goodness his little “bestest girl’s” (it was love even back then) mom was there to lend a hand (such tremendous help I don’t know how I would have survived soccer and numerous other things without her).

This is why I was quite pleasantly surprised (try stunned) that soccer went so great this time around. First of all the coach (a super tanned, slightly older, muscular woman, I swear she must be Californian “born and raised”) seemed really great with the kids, but my son actually LISTENED, took advice and followed through! Amazing!

He went with his little buddy who also did great (but that has always come more natural for him) and they both seemed to have a genuine fun time. That always warms a mama’s heart!

I didn’t exactly get to rest by the sidelines despite my son’s good behavior, because remember that little needy preemie girl? Yes, now I had to run after her (chasing her in a mad dash), trying to prevent her from stealing soccer balls and team jerseys: my goodness she has become fast and stubborn!

It was what came after the soccer that nearly had me snap (in half-no putting me together possible….nearly). Well it actually started as they set up for the next group of little soccer players; my own little player kept kicking the cones and throwing away the colored jerseys   (they were supposed to be covering the cones for the game). On purpose! I get so upset with him, why would he do that? After he had done so well too. Eventually he got reprimanded by an older coach who had come to watch and only then would he put the cones and jerseys back (reluctantly) despite my persistent instructions for him to do so-while our friends were waiting (sigh).

We then had the brilliant idea to go to dinner (like in a real restaurant) because the boys were probably hungry (I know I was). No hunger is worth what we had to suffer through at that restaurant though…

I stayed (relatively) calm through the loud talking (lets tell it like it is shall we: screaming), standing while screaming (not sitting), not eating, while standing and screaming. I almost stayed (semi)- calm while they (both but guess who was the instigator AND motivator) threw crayons out the window (yup!) and force held him on my lap only after the fifty eleventh time I had “calmly” (well, you know), told him “don’t stand, yell, throw, kick, run, spit, hit…”

I’m pretty sure people were starting to go from uncomfortable to actually bothered. There were other people with kids at this place and we were sitting outside (outside voices ha ha) but my friend and I both had to agree that these angel children surrounding us most be much older (well, clearly). Her son behaving much better of course but if we were under any kind of illusion that we could sit and actually have a meal, we were obviously harshly and rudely mistaken.

As “sony” dearest apologizes and gets to go back to his chair (still standing) he starts playing with his cup of juice as I tell him “no” repeatedly. There was a lot of juice and ice in that cup and a trendy older couple have just taken their seat right next to us as the sticky liquid literally gets everywhere, including the side of their table and place setting. Right!

I take a last longing look at my barely touched Caesar salad as my darling daughter announces with a wail that she is SO OVER IT. What happened to my princess who has actually been SITTING and EATING QUIETLY this entire time?

Yes, this all happened and I might be sweating and my frustrations level is high (but boys will be boys and all of that…) but that is STILL not what11255083_10153470895312640_1099744101406841331_n 11667398_10153470893907640_6299264496710203145_n 11705231_10153470893912640_7962492476381349670_n 11737807_10153470893957640_2818763555144195694_n 10425159_10152532816852640_9205249070484135330_n

pushes me over the edge…

Oh, have they been practicing (preschool graduation time)!!!

It has been a week of graduations, as I mentioned our son’s preschool graduation was quite a wild ride! After the swedish school one with two rowdy “ants in their pants”, LOUD kids I was prepared and ready, or so I thought…

My husband takes an hour off of work (what a rare treat!) to come see his little man graduate! It starts off tame enough, thanking the teachers, chatting some with other parents, dropping of the gifts and flowers…

Then it’s time for the little 3 and 4 year olds performance in the church. Even though our little guy doesn’t really seem like he is singing it looks like he is following along and getting most of the gestures and dance moves right! I’m quite impressed actually. But when it comes to answering their main teachers questions…

They are all so cute, the kids, all dressed up and a little nervous. Apparently they have been practicing what to say for months. Part of the “performance” or the “exercise” is to answer all questions in a complete (full) sentence as the teacher, mrs. B keeps reminding them. They all go one by one. They did great with some gentle reminders (not to copy one another, “remember what we practiced” and “start the sentence with “I”). The first answer by our boy turns out okay. They all answer what their favorite classroom toy is! I nudge my husband, hoping that our son will have an audible answer that makes some kind of sense and we get lucky- well, semi lucky, he answers “dinosaurs” (man, do I clap, it makes total sense! Never mind that the “full sentence” was a barely audible mumble). But there it was, “dinosaurs”, favorite toy, boom! Great answer. We later find out that they do not have any dinosaur toys in the classroom (never have)… Oh well…

Next question; favorite teacher? Are they really allowed to ask this? The answer format is now supposed be “my favorite teacher is …” (Again, they have apparently been practicing for months…)

“Miss. Richardson” …

Slight confusion, exchange of looks between the two teachers. I know why, there is no miss Richardson at this school, she is his main teacher at his other school, oops!…

Next question (they have apparently “interviewed each kid separately so he really should have this down!). “What do you want to be when you grow up?” (What not WHO)…
Firefighters, a couple of princesses, police officer, a flower (hmm, slightly quirky, right…?), astronaut! And our son’s answer? “Daddy”. Aww, that is so adorable (I think…), more clapping!

“When we go to chapel, pastor B talks about?” Our kiddo’s answer…

“Daddy”

Eh, well hmm!
His daddy getting looks and feeling somewhat uncomfortable (I’m pretty sure pastor B does not talk about “daddy”). I see a slight theme here, well he is his father’s little mini clone after all!

Last answer (Oh! Have they been practicing!!!)

“What’s your favorite thing to do at preschool?” Lots of “playing in the garden”,”swinging on the swings” “riding the bikes”, “making play doh” and “circle time” full sentences naturally!

“Remember William, say it in a full sentence”
Drumroll please…

His parents are cringing in the second row (pretending to be busy with baby sister).

“Full sentence!” he exclaims,  “Eh that’s right honey…let’s try again”…”my favorite thing to do at preschool is…?”

Our son answer loud and clear “swim with A” (his little “girlfriend’s name”).

Never mind that she does not go to his preschool or that there is no swimming(pool) at his school…

Good job buddy! Nobody got (understood) his answers but you know what we did, and he looks so cute and confident and all grown up and I know that we are both insanely proud of our little guy.

When I’m left alone with the kids we sit down to juice and cupcakes. After an unfortunate “spill”, a sneezing over the cupcake incident  and a minor fall (with a few tears), my son asks to get the dinosaurs out of the car. I have no idea what he is talking about, I didn’t even know he brought some with him. He takes my hand and won’t leave me alone until I go with him to the car. There they are in the backseat a couple of dinosaurs in a green box from his room (how did he sneak those in there?).

“What do you want to do with these Hun?”

“I want to put in the classroom so all kids can play dinosaurs!!” Hep! And so we do…

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First one to arrive, doggy poo and relocated party platters…

So, okay, she is here, the mom who barely knows anyone, who comes to your house for the very first time and still somehow feels entitled to complain…and to tell me how to do things differently. She even pulls me aside, giving me ideas on how to “organize” the platters of food and snacks in a different way, letting me know that the ice is melting in the outside ice chest “ALREADY” and informing me that my son is not listening to her son’s stories about a recent trip they took…(apparently our boy is being rude and he should absolutely stop and listen). It is also “too bad about the weather being so cold”, “what an absolute shame…”.

She is the first one to arrive (and last one to leave, naturally), she doesn’t like the potty in the bathroom (eh, que?), she wants to start snacking right away (even from the “weirdly” placed platters), rooming around our pantry and fridge in search for…? Giving her precious son cookies as she put her enormous handbag and light cardigan on the kitchen island amongst our “artful” display of toy dinosaurs, decorations and goodies.

Then all of a sudden she wants to “steal me away” to organize play dates over the summer as more and more guests arrive.

Guest I actually want there, whom I want to talk to – my friends and supportive people who appreciate my efforts with the party and are there to celebrate my son!

I was pretty excited to see our little boy so happy about his party and frankly I worked my “you know what” off to plan it and pull it off so…not exactly thrilled about this loud mouthed lady coming into our house “sharing” her opinions.

We had told the gardener to (for a small fortune) make the yard look nice for the party the day before, which included picking up are dog’s poop! Since she is a dog (you know how they work, right!?) she probably went once or twice between then and now so right before the party I ask my husband to do a “sweep” over the lawn. He said he found one small pile which he did (not happily but still) pick up! Problem solved, right?

Wrong!

Okay, so I know, nobody wants to step in dog poo at a party (or ever) and I agree the lawn should not be full of it…But will you believe it this woman who is a mom (to some kid my kid apparently plays with) from preschool searched high and low to find some. Yelling and screaming how it’s “unsanitary” and “the poor, poor kids”! Announcing it loudly to the world.

Of course I’m embarrassed, I asked my husband to specifically search the whole yard for it but as he picks it up, it’s on the other side of the house by the garage and the air conditioning units (basically not in any place any kid should be anyways) and nowhere near where the party is. Okaaay! I almost feel sorry for our large gentle yet clumsy and goofy dog currently trapped in the garage; she probably innocently did her “business” before being banned to the garaged” when all she wanted was to join the party (a real party animal that one).

Not even minutes later we hear a frantic cry (of the bad kind). I instantly turn stiff and nervously worried, realizing someone must have gotten seriously hurt…

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