New Year, New Monsters

Just when you think you have your kids figured out, they turn into full-raging hormone zombies. So you learn to deal. No biggie.

Then one day, you're shopping at Walmart and you see your twelve-year-old, male zombie turn his face and there grows a long, stray hair. You panic - How did I not see that before now? What kind of MOTHER am I? What's happening? Where did IT come from?!? Gross! OMGosh. Where am I? What's my name? What do I do - buy a razor right now or do I wait? Does one, long hair constitute that expense? Do I tell him? Does he already know? Eww. Who is this creature? I wanted to scream, "SOMEONE PLEASE PINCH ME; I'M HAVING A TERRIBLE NIGHTMARE!!" I had a fleeting thought of jumping the Pharmacy counter, shoving the pharmacist, security guard and whoever else got in my way, to the ground and then downing a bottle of Prozac like a raving lunatic.

I was spinning in that Twilight Zone vortex, in the middle of Walmart, having all of those thoughts. Can you imagine? But then...

I had that Aha! moment (you know what I'm talking about) - I'll just pluck it out with my tweezers while he's sleeping and he'll be none the worse for not knowing, right? So, you tell your husband the plan and instead of conspiring with you like you know he should, he tells you you're crazy and proceeds with a puffed-up chest and pride-filled, father-face to reminisce about the day he started shaving. You start reminiscing about smothering him with the pillow while he's sleeping (before you pluck the stray hair off your son's face, of course, because he might wake up and you don't want any witnesses.)

You go buy some Calgon.

It doesn't take you away.

At least you can somewhat understand your fourteen-year-old female zombie...

Three days a week.

So, you're driving home with said female zombie last night after her ballgame. They won and yet she looks really down so you start simple...

So, you won!....we played terrible

Yeah, I noticed your head was somewhere else - you okay?...head nods

Have a headache?...head shakes

Hungry?...more shaking

Tired?...still more shaking

Wanna' talk about it?

*sniffling, eyes blinking holding back tears*

Everything okay with you and Billybob*?

No. We broke up. *sniffling, quiet sobbing*

Of course now I start sniffling and blinking back tears, driving with blurred vision.

We talk little the rest of the way home and I respect her space. In time, I suppose... or they could get back together tomorrow. We get home and she showered, ate, read a book, did homework, watched TV; all the normal things but now with a somber look on her face. It's killing me. I look at her and like those commercials, see her three years old with strawberry-blonde pigtails and freckles, sad about a stuffed toy that the dog tore up. Ah.

Of course, I'm still wanting the details; to know what happened.

So, G comes home, we converse quietly in the kitchen and he goes in and tucks her into bed (which she normally doesn't request anymore) and they talk! Booger!

He decides that pulling her out of a class today and going for ice cream might help the sting fade faster. He always gets all the fun *sticking out tongue*. Maybe I should teach our male zombie how to shave. Ha!

I live with a house full of monsters...and I love it.

So, what's up with you? Dish.

*name changed to protect the little punk. :0)

GO SEE THIS ONE!

And take a tissue.

Wishing You A "Doghouse-Free" Christmas

This was forwarded to me today and it made me laugh.

http://link.brightcove.com/services/link/bcpid1370868150/bctid3130509001

Blindfolds and Blankets

What is it with my kids recently?

First #4 decides it would be a good idea to walk through his room, toys scattered everywhere, with a blanket covering his head. This is why some people think we evolved from monkeys.

*Boom!* Falls right on the corner of his wooden bed, with the impact to his eye area. His hands were caught under the blanket so his eye took the brunt.

No stitches but a big black eye for Halloween and a $30 visit to the pediatrician to check out his orbital plate. Results inconclusive but, Eureka! $1675 worth of xrays later, he's declared normal as can be...for a kid that likes walking blind. Thank goodness for Blue Cross and Blue Shield.

Three weeks later.....

#3, #4, and #5 decide to play a game. #1 who is babysitting doesn't think twice about blindfolding them all for the game; after all, it'll keep them quiet, right? I would have acquiesced, as well.

They all go tromping around the family room, crowded with family room stuff, building supply stuff and master bedroom stuff (we're remodeling). #3 *thinks*, "hmmm...I MUST be right by the sofa so I'm going to fall down and make everyone laugh."

Problem was she was actually right above my cedar hope chest.

*Boom!*

We're in the thrift store checkout line, enjoying our Saturday when we get the call. Everyone's calm so hubby says to put a wet washcloth on it and put pressure on it until we get home.

Five minutes later we walk in the door to a trail of blood leading to the bathroom and Molly holding back sobs. I take one look and there's no doubt she's getting stitches...again. This is the fifth or sixth time for her; we've lost count. I drive her to the Women & Children's Center at the hospital, walk into the pediatric ER and we're the only ones there - unbelievable.

$50, two hours and ELEVEN stitches later, we're on our way home for Motrin and some rest.

The bruising and swelling actually got worse until today. Thursday the stitches will come out at the pediatrician's office. That'll be $30 more. You'd think for $50, the ER could take the stitches out, as well.

There's been absolutely no horsing around for several days at our house now, per Mom's orders. It's been absolutely freezing outside so something's gonna' have to give in the next few days; hopefully, it's the weather.

Wolfs

Zac: "Hey, Mom, what's that word?"

Me: "What word?"

Zac: "You know, wolfs."

Me: "Oh, yeah, it's wolves...vvvzzz"

Zac: "wolfffs...vvvzzz"

Me: "If you have one goose, you say 'goose'; what if you have more than one, what's the word?"

Zac: "I don't know."

Me: "Geese."

Zac: *laughs*

Me: If you have one deer, you say 'deer'; what if you have more than one, what's the word?"

Zac: "TWO deer!"

Me and Zac: *laugh, laugh, laugh*