Hold on Loosely

After a particularly rough day, I gave The Boy an extra long hug. After a moment, he commented: “Why are we still hugging?”

Me: “Because I love you.”

The Boy: “That’s sweet….. Can we let go now?”

Nobody Puts Droid in the Corner

Further proving my point that The Boy does not necessarily want to play with me but rather keeps me around to hold the action figures, I have now apparently failed at being “Hexagon,” evil nemesis to Dr. Chipmunk in The Boy’s latest game.

I was told I could be “Droid” who, it was explained, “sits in the corner & takes a nap.”

Sing Along If You Know It

As I’m singing along to the radio, The Girl remarks, “You know, mom… some songs just aren’t meant for you. Like all of them.”

The Answer is “Apple”

During a game of “Guess What I’m Thinking” with The Boy…

Me: “I’m thinking of something red & yummy.”

The Boy: “Hot Sauce?”

Me: “No. It’s round & you can hold it in your hand.”

The Boy: “Hot Sauce!”

Me: “No. People like to make pies out of it.”

The Boy: “It’s not Hot Sauce?

At Least it Wasn’t Uranus

In keeping with the fart theme of recent posts, The Girl has renamed her brother “Jupiter” because, according to her, he’s a gas giant.

The Boys Club

The Girl has been having a rough time getting used to her new school. It’s the first time she’s had to switch classrooms & teachers for different subjects. That & not really knowing anyone has been frustrating for her.

When we toured the school in the spring, there was another family with the same last name along for the tour. Their son is in The Girl’s homeroom this year. I asked her how he was doing getting adjusted to the new school.

The Girl: “He’s fine. He’s a boy. One fart joke or stupid noise & you’re in.”

MomDay Monday – When is a Couch Not Just a Couch?

I bought a new couch.

Not normally fodder for a blog post, but The Kids reaction to this new piece of furniture was not what I expected. I told the kids last week that I would be getting a new couch & getting rid of our old one – a yellow monstrosity that was actually quite comfortable in its hey day but has long since suffered the effects of kids & pets. Well, one pet. George. Our cat. Or rather our former cat having gone to that great big litter box in the sky a few years ago. They were upset because, as they said, our old couch “held so many memories of George.” “Of course it does,” I quipped back. “You can’t escape the claw marks everywhere. Sorry. It’s going.”

The Kids returned home today from their weekend with The Ex & were greeted by the yellow couch in its temporary home on the sidewalk in front of the house. The reaction was immediate. There was wailing & gnashing of teeth, much like an Italian funeral.

The Girl: “Why can’t you save this for dad for when he gets a place?”

The Boy: “You know that little table next to my bed. Get rid of that & put the couch there.”

The Girl: “Well, can we at least keep the cushions?”

The Boy: “I’m naming it Winter because it’s chilly out tonight.”

At first I thought they were being ridiculous. But as I thought about it, I realized that maybe this was really a reaction to ALL of the change in their lives in the past few years.

And they’ve had so much.

Their parents divorced & they had to get used to a schedule of when they were going to be at mom’s or at dad’s. They had to leave the private school they’ve attended since they were 3-years-old & start over in public schools where they know no one. I started working full-time, so they have to go to before & after school programs. And now, silly as it sounds, they have to give up the couch that, as The Boy says, “Has my butt imprint just perfect.”

To them it’s another loss.

Maybe I’m over thinking it. I mean, these two would keep everything from baby toys to old clothes if I let them and they’ve always been that way. I fully expect a far distant episode of A&E’s “Hoarders” to feature one of my children. But it just seems like they’ve been through so much recently, that it wouldn’t hurt me to be a little extra gentle on this one.

But it’s really hard not to laugh.

Which End is Up?

The Boy: “Can I have a Tic Tac? I just burped & it smells awful.”

The Girl: “Maybe he should put a Tic Tac in his butt ’cause his farts aren’t so great either.”

MomDay Monday – Goodbye Friends

Four years ago, I signed The Girl up for Girl Scouts. We were placed in a troop with Shannon, a young leader who had three kids of her own and was leading this troop for her oldest daughter who was the same age as The Girl. I used to stay around the meetings because it was something I wanted to do as a mother/daughter thing & it was fun watching this group of girls create things & learn together. And with a boy barely a year old along for the ride, I figured Shannon could use some help with the troop while her son ran naked. (He’s starting to outgrow that phase but it’s only been 4 years. Don’t rush him.)

Shannon’s husband, John, is in the Navy. I’d like to name his exact position as though I know what I’m talking about but all I know is that he was recently promoted to Chief Petty Officer. What’s more important is that after two years in Guam while his wife & children lived 8,000 miles away, he is finally heading back stateside to a post in Virginia. Initially, Shannon was going to stay up here until her house sold but once John got back & they helped him move into Virginia, the waiting became too much and she made the difficult decision to just go. House be damned. And in that moment of trusting that it would all work out, they got a buyer for the house just days before her departure.

So with all that said, I bid farewell to a wonderful family. They just walked out my door for the last time leaving behind a lot of great memories and a pet chinchilla that we have now adopted because they couldn’t take her with them. I am trying to be happy for them and not sad for me.

I’m failing miserably.

So with that, I want to let each one of this fabulous fivesome know how I feel. I may not do it eloquently or even halfway decently, but I do it with my whole heart.

Dear Angelina: You are one of the most mature 11-year-olds I know. And I know a lot of 11-year-olds. Thank you for always being a friend to Grace and Sam & for being such an enormous help to your mom especially in the past two years. Don’t forget to be a kid sometimes, though, too. You are an amazing young woman & I’m sure you will go far in whatever you decide to do. Keep singing. The world needs to hear your beautiful voice.

Dearest Abigale: You are a spirit unlike any other. Except maybe Sam. You two really are kindred spirits. You’re just the girl version. Keep your sense of style & your wonderful silliness. They will help you get through whatever you face because a sense of humor & great shoes can help overcome anything. And if all else fails, throw yourself to the floor.

Darling Owen: I can’t tell you how much I have loved hearing you talk. You are funny & charming & a pain in the butt. A naked butt. Please keep your pants on. You make Grace yell things like, “Owen’s got a toy  hammer. Cover your private parts!” And you’re the little brother that Sam never had. I will miss you shooting at me & sticking your gorgeous face through the mail slot in my door. My doorbell will never be quite the same again.

Dear John: You’re the one family member that I don’t really know. What I do know is that you recognize how amazing your wife & children are. I have watched you & Shannon fight to maintain a solid foundation with 8,000 miles between you. This can only be done with hard work, determination & a tenacity that few men have. Take care of your beautiful bride. You know what an amazing woman she is and in the unlikely event that you ever forget, call me. I have watched her over the last two years and can fill you in on what she’s dealt with not just with the kids, but with work, Girl Scouts, babysitters and schools. It hasn’t always been pretty. But you are married to a woman of grace & fortitude who will fight for what’s important and you and your children are the most important things to her.

And finally, my dearest Shannon: I’ve written this part a half-dozen times & it’s still not right. I guess sometimes there aren’t really words that can be put onto paper to express your thoughts. To say I’m sad is an understatement. You are spontaneous & glorious and have taught me how to lighten up and how to fight it out. You have become the type of friend that can never be replaced. You have brought me tacos, gluten-free treats & enormous wine glasses. You’ve walked in moon shoes on my lawn, made me concoctions with pineapple vodka and gone skydiving with me. (Dear Readers: Not literally. I would never jump out of a perfectly good plane. It was just a term we used for escaping when kids & life got overwhelming.) But mostly, you have cared for my kids as if they were your own and you have been there, time and time again, for them & for me. I can only hope that I have been able to do the same for you.

I love you all & I will miss you. God speed.

Give Me a “G!”

Random Stranger, commenting on the “G” pendant that The Girl wears: “That’s a pretty necklace. Does your name start with “G”?

The Boy: “No. It stands for Ga-stupid.”

Dear Reader: I promise you, the “G” does not stand for “Girl.” Her real name actually does start with “G.”