The conversation goes a little like this…
Carter: “Mom, I have a friend that’s a girl.”
Me: “Really? Who?”
Carter: “Can’t tell ya”
Me: “Oh come on, tell me…”
Carter: “Sorry can’t do it. I’m not sure she likes me. She chases me ALLLL the time on the playground.”
Me: “Well, son that means she likes you”
Carter: “It does? Are you sure?”
Me: “Yes I’m sure!”
Carter: “Ugh! Mom! Help me…I don’t know anything about this relationship stuff!”
(Seriously? Relationship?)
Me: “Well son, what do you want to know?” (GULP…)
Carter: “Anything you can tell me would be good. I am clueless about all these girls.”
Me: (trying not to laugh) “Do you like this girl that is chasing you?”
Carter: “I think so.”
Me: “Then walk up to her and tell her you like her and then ask her if she wants to be your girlfriend.” (I prefer the direct approach.)
Carter: “Just like that?”
Me: “Yep, just like that.”
Carter: “What if she does not like me back?”
Me: “Don’t worry son, girls are like buses, when one leaves, there will be another one along shortly.”
Carter: “Maybe if she was about to get run over by that bus I could come running in and push her out of the way and she would REALLY love me then.”
Me: “What? I do not think we need to be jumping in front of any buses and when did we start talking about LOVE?”
Carter: “OK, maybe not a bus, but if she gets choked in the lunch room I could beat her on the back and save her …do you think that would work mommy?”
Me: “Ask your daddy…”
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Put Me In Coach...
Do you smell something? It’s the smell of the fresh cut grass in the outfield. Do you see that? It is the sun beating down on the deep Georgia red clay in the infield. That’s right people it’s little league baseball season in the south! As for you critics, I realize it is baseball season throughout the country, but I am from the south and let’s face it…it’s all about me. I am pumped about this season. Gone are the days of no umpires, no score keeping (at least not officially), no outs, and hitting off the infamous “T”. This is REAL live baseball baby! I am so excited (more than Carter), but that’s ok…he’ll adapt!
Most of my life has been spent on a ball field and in my 36 years I have observed two types of parents. First, you have the “Bleacher Creatures”. They are usually found sitting on the bleachers in a crowd of people. They have never really played sports themselves and know just enough about the game to be dangerous. Bleacher Creatures sit in the stands and criticize the coach, but only loud enough for their “peeps” to hear. When they are not being “creatures” they can be found hanging out at the concession stand having a sampler platter.
Next there are the “Parent Coaches”. I qualify as an expert on these because I have a set! In case it was not obvious, these are the parents that choose to coach their children. They spend countless hours on the practice field not only with the team, but with their kids individually. They dream of their kid being the homerun hitter and the perfect defensive player. They dream of the “perfect” batting order and spend a small fortune on practice gear. These types “coach” their kids from sun up to sun down and sometimes even when they are sleeping. The funny thing is, no matter how much time passes or how old they get…they never quit coaching. It’s in their blood and gives them such a rush!
Last but not least there are “Monster Moms”. These are the type A personality daughters of the above mentioned “Parent Coaches”. I can speak at length on this subject because I am one. Yes, I am a “Monster Mom” and proud of it. I am SUPER competitive. Second place is just another name for 1st loser. Little league, big league, or somewhere in between it does not matter because you are out there to play ball, not have fun! Carter came to me a few days before his first ballgame this year and said “mom, I can’t wait until my first REAL baseball game. I will do my very best, but I know that our team cannot always win. Everybody has to lose some time.” Hugh? Seriously? Yep, my kid said that. I bit the preverbal tongue and mumbled “if you say so”. These kinds of words send chills up a monster mom’s spine. We will spend many hours and many dollars on the “perfect” bat to ensure the “proper hitting” or the “perfect” glove to ensure the “proper play”. We also know the importance of “looking like a ball player”. My motto has always been, you might not know what you are doing, but by George you need to look good doing it! We MM’s take this stuff seriously. We are in it to win it. After all, we have to make our “parent coaches”proud!
Batter up!
- I dedicate this post to my Mom and Pop. Keep on coaching! Love you!
Most of my life has been spent on a ball field and in my 36 years I have observed two types of parents. First, you have the “Bleacher Creatures”. They are usually found sitting on the bleachers in a crowd of people. They have never really played sports themselves and know just enough about the game to be dangerous. Bleacher Creatures sit in the stands and criticize the coach, but only loud enough for their “peeps” to hear. When they are not being “creatures” they can be found hanging out at the concession stand having a sampler platter.
Next there are the “Parent Coaches”. I qualify as an expert on these because I have a set! In case it was not obvious, these are the parents that choose to coach their children. They spend countless hours on the practice field not only with the team, but with their kids individually. They dream of their kid being the homerun hitter and the perfect defensive player. They dream of the “perfect” batting order and spend a small fortune on practice gear. These types “coach” their kids from sun up to sun down and sometimes even when they are sleeping. The funny thing is, no matter how much time passes or how old they get…they never quit coaching. It’s in their blood and gives them such a rush!
Last but not least there are “Monster Moms”. These are the type A personality daughters of the above mentioned “Parent Coaches”. I can speak at length on this subject because I am one. Yes, I am a “Monster Mom” and proud of it. I am SUPER competitive. Second place is just another name for 1st loser. Little league, big league, or somewhere in between it does not matter because you are out there to play ball, not have fun! Carter came to me a few days before his first ballgame this year and said “mom, I can’t wait until my first REAL baseball game. I will do my very best, but I know that our team cannot always win. Everybody has to lose some time.” Hugh? Seriously? Yep, my kid said that. I bit the preverbal tongue and mumbled “if you say so”. These kinds of words send chills up a monster mom’s spine. We will spend many hours and many dollars on the “perfect” bat to ensure the “proper hitting” or the “perfect” glove to ensure the “proper play”. We also know the importance of “looking like a ball player”. My motto has always been, you might not know what you are doing, but by George you need to look good doing it! We MM’s take this stuff seriously. We are in it to win it. After all, we have to make our “parent coaches”proud!
Batter up!
- I dedicate this post to my Mom and Pop. Keep on coaching! Love you!
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Feeding Time at the Zoo
Don’t pay the ransom, I have escaped! Yes, I am slowly emerging from nine months of barfing, swelling and drastic mood swings. Addison Taylor Reynolds was born February 8, 2010 at 8lbs. 10oz. and 20 ½ inches long. I apologize for not blogging during the pregnancy. Frankly, I did not write because the mood I was in, who knows what I might have said or who I might have offended along the way. It was best that I just kept quiet.
I tried to be proactive and prepare Carter & Kate for a new baby. We talked about how much babies sleep and how we NEVER wake a sleeping baby. I explained that babies do not “play” with toys or eat Goldfish crackers. I was feeling pretty confident with myself until about an hour after Addy was born. I was lying in my hospital bed feeling euphoric over the power I had being able to control my morphine drip when reality stood up and smacked me in the face. The nurse walked in the room with the baby and said “feeding time”. OH SNAP! I didn’t explain breastfeeding. Kate would not have a clue and Carter was too young to remember me nursing Kate. I had to formulate a plan and quick.
I decided to play it cool and let them ask the questions. It went over without a hitch; at least I thought it did. A few days later, after we were home from the hospital, the phone rang and Carter answered. He talked at length to the other person and it was obvious they were asking him about his plans for the day. What came next I could not have scripted myself. Carter said “As soon as my mom finishes milking the baby we are going to have lunch”. MILKING! Seriously? I already felt like Bessie the cow, but now Carter tells people I’m MILKING the baby! The sad thing is I have continuously corrected him and repeated FEEDING; I am FEEDING the baby, but for some reason milking stuck. I can only imagine what he tells the people at school! Oh well, out of the mouths of babes!
I tried to be proactive and prepare Carter & Kate for a new baby. We talked about how much babies sleep and how we NEVER wake a sleeping baby. I explained that babies do not “play” with toys or eat Goldfish crackers. I was feeling pretty confident with myself until about an hour after Addy was born. I was lying in my hospital bed feeling euphoric over the power I had being able to control my morphine drip when reality stood up and smacked me in the face. The nurse walked in the room with the baby and said “feeding time”. OH SNAP! I didn’t explain breastfeeding. Kate would not have a clue and Carter was too young to remember me nursing Kate. I had to formulate a plan and quick.
I decided to play it cool and let them ask the questions. It went over without a hitch; at least I thought it did. A few days later, after we were home from the hospital, the phone rang and Carter answered. He talked at length to the other person and it was obvious they were asking him about his plans for the day. What came next I could not have scripted myself. Carter said “As soon as my mom finishes milking the baby we are going to have lunch”. MILKING! Seriously? I already felt like Bessie the cow, but now Carter tells people I’m MILKING the baby! The sad thing is I have continuously corrected him and repeated FEEDING; I am FEEDING the baby, but for some reason milking stuck. I can only imagine what he tells the people at school! Oh well, out of the mouths of babes!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Candy Anyone?
“Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” Forrest Gump really hit the nail on the head with that one. Mark and I have been going through our own box of chocolate and you will never guess what we ended up with. Baby #3! Yes, that’s right we are expecting another baby in late February. The only word that still comes to mind is “shocked” and that’s even after knowing for a month. All I can say is Casa de Crazy will never be the same.
Carter and Kate are over the moon about it. Carter has requested a boy and Kate has requested “a gurl just wike meee” my only comment to Kate was “let’s not get that technical”. The last few weeks have been unproductive to say the least. I’m not sure who came up with the term “morning” sickness, but something tells me it was a man. I am here to say that there is no such thing as “morning” sickness. It is “ALL THE TIME” sickness. However, I will say that I have found a new drug of choice, Dramamine. Yes, it makes me sleepy and yes it makes me irritable, but at this point and time if I have to look at another saltine cracker or glass of Sprite I will scream!
Carter and Kate are over the moon about it. Carter has requested a boy and Kate has requested “a gurl just wike meee” my only comment to Kate was “let’s not get that technical”. The last few weeks have been unproductive to say the least. I’m not sure who came up with the term “morning” sickness, but something tells me it was a man. I am here to say that there is no such thing as “morning” sickness. It is “ALL THE TIME” sickness. However, I will say that I have found a new drug of choice, Dramamine. Yes, it makes me sleepy and yes it makes me irritable, but at this point and time if I have to look at another saltine cracker or glass of Sprite I will scream!
Friday, June 12, 2009
Tales of a True Pioneer
Kate is the true pioneer of our family. She was our first and only child to have colic. She is the only one that gets car sick and the first one to break a bone. Let’s not forget about our trip to the ER two years ago after she swallowed a penny. I am proud to say that time has not taken away Kate’s pioneering spirit.
Last Tuesday night all was well at Casa de Crazy. Dinner was over, kitchen cleaned, and I had just settled into a little Facebook time when Kate wanders up. The conversation went a little like this:
Me: “Hey sweetie, how may I be of assistance?”
Kate: “Mummy, can you get the shoe out of my nose?”
Me: “Huh?”
Kate: “I need you to get the shoe out.”
At this point I am thinking that her imagination is getting the best of her, but I humor her and get a flashlight to investigate.
Me: “Katie, I don’t see a shoe.”
Kate: “Mummy! I have a shoe up my nose! Now, please…get-it-out!”
Trying hard not to laugh, I went to beg for Mark’s help. I use the term “beg” because when dealing with things such as noses, snot, and all other things that fall into the bodily fluid category, Mark typically runs the other way or simply cannot be found.
Me: “Mark, um…Can you come downstairs for a minute? I think I need your help.”
Mark comes downstairs and I tell him what has happened. After three verses of “Katie, why do you do these things”, we are able to locate the shoe. (Did I mention this “shoe” actually belonged on one of her Polly Pocket dolls?) To my surprise, Mark declares that he can get it out! Seriously? He goes and gets the tweezers and all I can say is “Mark, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” “I can do it”, he said. Not sure what happened to his irrational fear of snot, but ok.
In the mean time, Kate picks up on my hesitation real quick and starts chanting “no daddy, no daddy” and hiding her nose. This little episode went on for another 15 minutes and finally I declared it “ER time”. Adding to the drama, Carter starts to cry when Kate and I leave. Obviously, he thinks that Kate is about to have some major procedure done. He is holding onto Kate and Kate is holding on to him and they are both hysterical.
After an hour and a half at the hospital, a good set of “alligator forceps”, a doctor who was totally amused and a bill that will be Lord knows how much, we returned home with a clean nose and a tiny pink Polly Pocket shoe covered in snot.
Another Kate classic and a typical day at the casa de crazy!
Last Tuesday night all was well at Casa de Crazy. Dinner was over, kitchen cleaned, and I had just settled into a little Facebook time when Kate wanders up. The conversation went a little like this:
Me: “Hey sweetie, how may I be of assistance?”
Kate: “Mummy, can you get the shoe out of my nose?”
Me: “Huh?”
Kate: “I need you to get the shoe out.”
At this point I am thinking that her imagination is getting the best of her, but I humor her and get a flashlight to investigate.
Me: “Katie, I don’t see a shoe.”
Kate: “Mummy! I have a shoe up my nose! Now, please…get-it-out!”
Trying hard not to laugh, I went to beg for Mark’s help. I use the term “beg” because when dealing with things such as noses, snot, and all other things that fall into the bodily fluid category, Mark typically runs the other way or simply cannot be found.
Me: “Mark, um…Can you come downstairs for a minute? I think I need your help.”
Mark comes downstairs and I tell him what has happened. After three verses of “Katie, why do you do these things”, we are able to locate the shoe. (Did I mention this “shoe” actually belonged on one of her Polly Pocket dolls?) To my surprise, Mark declares that he can get it out! Seriously? He goes and gets the tweezers and all I can say is “Mark, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” “I can do it”, he said. Not sure what happened to his irrational fear of snot, but ok.
In the mean time, Kate picks up on my hesitation real quick and starts chanting “no daddy, no daddy” and hiding her nose. This little episode went on for another 15 minutes and finally I declared it “ER time”. Adding to the drama, Carter starts to cry when Kate and I leave. Obviously, he thinks that Kate is about to have some major procedure done. He is holding onto Kate and Kate is holding on to him and they are both hysterical.
After an hour and a half at the hospital, a good set of “alligator forceps”, a doctor who was totally amused and a bill that will be Lord knows how much, we returned home with a clean nose and a tiny pink Polly Pocket shoe covered in snot.
Another Kate classic and a typical day at the casa de crazy!
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Can I Get a Witness?
Until this morning there are very few times in my life that I can honestly say I have been humiliated or left speechless. I had just gotten home from the grocery store and while I was putting up the food I spilled water on my pants. So with my quick wit I decided to take my pants off and lay them over a chair to dry. I proceeded to the living room to make a quick phone call and Snickers started barking. I thought that was kind of strange because when I got home from the store he was sound asleep in his crate (he is not a morning dog). Kate came running from Snickers direction so I just assumed she had woke him up. My phone conversation continued and so did Snickers barking. In the midst of my conversation I reassured Snickers that I would be with him in just a minute, but he continued to protest. All of a sudden I look up and my front door is standing wide open (thanks to Kate) and there stands a lady from Jehovah’s Witness!
I froze! There I was sitting in the living room in my shirt and underwear! My friend on the phone just kept talking on and on and all I could do is just sit there looking at this woman, speechless. I hung up the phone, grabbed an afghan from the chair, wrapped it around me and headed to the door, I could feel my face getting hotter and hotter. The lady smiled at me and the conversation went a little something like this…
Me: “Hi, I’m sorry, my daughter has a BAD habit of opening the door when she is NOT suppose to…….I spilled water on my pants.”
JW: “That’s OK. You have a beautiful view from your home. (Yeah! You got a view alright!) I am here on a mission from my church and I wanted to talk to you about having Faith during hard times.”
Me: “Oh, well I understand completely about Faith and I believe you should have Faith all the time, not just in hard times. (Now, this is the point where I should have just shut up, but NOOOO not me!) My family and I are very active in church and I am a Sunday school teacher. This is very hard to look you in the eye and say since I do not have any pants on.” (Duh!)
(What can I say I was desperate and without my pants!)
The lady thanked me for my time and left.
Leave it to me to find such a creative way to get the JW’s to leave in a hurry. My guess is they may scratch my address off their list permanently!
A note to my fellow church members…Please note that I did not tell the JW were I went to church. I wanted to protect the identity of the innocent!
I froze! There I was sitting in the living room in my shirt and underwear! My friend on the phone just kept talking on and on and all I could do is just sit there looking at this woman, speechless. I hung up the phone, grabbed an afghan from the chair, wrapped it around me and headed to the door, I could feel my face getting hotter and hotter. The lady smiled at me and the conversation went a little something like this…
Me: “Hi, I’m sorry, my daughter has a BAD habit of opening the door when she is NOT suppose to…….I spilled water on my pants.”
JW: “That’s OK. You have a beautiful view from your home. (Yeah! You got a view alright!) I am here on a mission from my church and I wanted to talk to you about having Faith during hard times.”
Me: “Oh, well I understand completely about Faith and I believe you should have Faith all the time, not just in hard times. (Now, this is the point where I should have just shut up, but NOOOO not me!) My family and I are very active in church and I am a Sunday school teacher. This is very hard to look you in the eye and say since I do not have any pants on.” (Duh!)
(What can I say I was desperate and without my pants!)
The lady thanked me for my time and left.
Leave it to me to find such a creative way to get the JW’s to leave in a hurry. My guess is they may scratch my address off their list permanently!
A note to my fellow church members…Please note that I did not tell the JW were I went to church. I wanted to protect the identity of the innocent!
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Prison "Break"
Spring cleaning is in overdrive at Casa de Crazy. I started cleaning about 4 weeks ago and I'm still not finished, but that's another blog all together. Today I was cleaning in Kate's room and everything was going well. Kate was in her room with me and Carter was in his. Suddenly, Carter comes busting into the room and the conversation went a little something like this:
Carter: "Kate, I hate to break it to you, but I am going to have to arrest you and take you to jail."
Kate: "Why babee?"
Carter: "Cause you've been bad, but don't worry."
Kate: "Will it be OK babee?"
Carter: "Yes, cause you know what the good part about jail is?"
Kate: "What?"
Carter: "You get 3 meals a day, you get to watch TV and you get visitors!"
Kate: "OOOOKKKKK, wets goooo!"
After that, what else can I say...?
Carter: "Kate, I hate to break it to you, but I am going to have to arrest you and take you to jail."
Kate: "Why babee?"
Carter: "Cause you've been bad, but don't worry."
Kate: "Will it be OK babee?"
Carter: "Yes, cause you know what the good part about jail is?"
Kate: "What?"
Carter: "You get 3 meals a day, you get to watch TV and you get visitors!"
Kate: "OOOOKKKKK, wets goooo!"
After that, what else can I say...?
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