Tongue Twister

It all started out very innocently, as most things do. It seems I have inadvertently taught #2 Son to stick out his tongue. It cracks me up. Unlike my other children, the baby still loves to please me and my hysterical laughter seems to be the reaction he was hoping for. Long story short, #2 Son now seems to think sticking out one's tongue is the preferred greeting among "big people." Now when the kid spots a family member, he thrusts out his tongue, his eyes sparkle and he awaits the proper response. You can see him thinking, "Yes people, I am here all week." Fortunately for the baby, none of us disappoint him. The more we laugh, the more he sticks out the tongue. I'm not exactly sure how I am going to explain this one to the grandparents, though it will be far easier than explaining his older brother's use of the f-word at 2 and his sister marching around chanting the word "sex" at 18 months. Don't ask.

#1 Son is rather appalled by the whole thing (though do not think he isn't right in there encouraging the kid to stick his tongue out with the rest of us). #1 has scolded me saying, "Mom, he's a baby, not a pet. Teaching him to do tricks is just WRONG."

Who the heck is he kidding? This is the same kid who helped me teach his baby sister "pitiful face." We would say, "Little One, make pitiful face," and she would strike the most exaggerated pitiful pout you have ever seen. It cracked us up. In fact, I set the precedent with #1 and his "Johnny Jumper." A butt sling strapped to bungee cord, suspended in an archway containing an active baby combined with dance music. If there is a better prescription for parental entertainment, I don't know what it is.

The point is that parents should be entitled to teach their offspring "tricks." What else do we have to live for?

I Could Be a Contenda!

Since giving birth to the Milk Leech, I watch a LOT more television. My friends, have you seen "Rollergirls" on A&E? I am addicted! I have gotten so into Texas Roller Derby that I know all the stars, most of their real names, and the teams they play for. I am such a big fan that I have even pre-ordered the DVD of this season.

I SO could be a Roller Derby queen!! I feel that my life experience makes me the perfect candidate for the job. I may be old, but I have got the skills!

I am Fast: My entire life as a mother involves running around like a chicken with my head cut off. I pack in 28 hours in a 24-hour day. If I can catch a wayward toddler hell bent on escape, I can certainly lap the pack as a Jammer.

I have Attitude: Just ask that snot nosed grocery store clerk who asked me if I qualified for the "Senior Citizen" discount last Tuesday.

I have Team Spirit: I am still convinced that we can "get it together" and become organized, if we just all pull together as a family. In reality, I guess we're lucky that we haven't actually misplaced one of the children. That counts for something, right?

I am Tough: I have given birth to 3 children and lived to tell about it. I deal with poop, snot and vomit with barely a shrug of a shoulder. I think the ratty graying hair, dry skin, and permanent facial twitch only add to my personality.

I have Stage Presence: See the ratty hair and facial twitch referenced above. My appearance only serves to make me look like an escapee from a mental home. It could be part of my shtick.

I am Tenacious: I have successfully potty-trained two children. OK, so I didn't actively do that much, but at least they are not going to college in diapers. Another example is my optimistic attempt at gardening each and every spring.

I am Mean: Just ask anyone in my family that leaves their underwear on the floor or smart mouths me. Apparently I have a "look" that makes their hair stand on end.

In fact, I am downright Full of Rage at times: You don't drive 39 miles one way through rush hour traffic at least 3 days a week to soccer practice and not get a little testy.

I am telling you my friends, I could be famous! My family is convinced that I am obviously not getting out of the house as much as I need to. Whatever. They're just worried that I might up and leave them to become famous in the TXRD. How silly is that? Of course I would take them with me. Yeah...sure I would.

Trials and Tribulations

We are going through a terrible ordeal here this week. It is something that I knew we would have to deal with some day, but I was hoping it would be later rather than sooner. Unfortunately it happened this weekend. I don't know how we are going to overcome this trial, but I do have faith that we will...somehow.

My friends, this week my teenager and his significant other broke up. You should know that this relationship was SERIOUS. Really. It lasted almost two months.

As always, I strive to impart my measly knowledge to you in the slight chance that it might come in handy to you one day. Tonight I give you: "How to Survive Your Teenager's First Major Break Up"

1) Under NO circumstances should you say things like, "you're only 14," "you'll have MANY relationships in your life," and "you're too young to know what real love is." While you and I may know that is true, it doesn't negate your teenager's feelings now. He hurts. You will suffer. Just grin and bear it.

2) Understand that his music will get louder and angrier than usual. Do NOT, under any circumstances, attempt to decipher the lyrics of his new favorites. If you hope to continue to sleep at night, you will trust me on this one.

3) Answer your own phone for a few days, as he will be too depressed to "deal with it." You have probably forgotten how to do this as it has been so long since you have attempted it. Follow my lead: pick it up and say "hello." Of course, as usual, it will not be for you. It will be one of his many girl friends calling to commiserate.

4) Remove any reminders of the ex from your home. This may include certain food items that were the ex's favorite. Unfortunately this may cause a big problem if the ex actually liked your teenager's younger sibling.

5) Do not encourage him to seek out another relationship. Nothing and no one will be as good as his "one true love." How dare you even think he could love another? Resist this urge until he finds a new love interest. Hang in there. It might take as long as 48 or 49 hours.

6) Do not sweat his declarations of "I'm not hungry" and "If I eat I will throw up." He is not turning anorexic. He is still a teenage boy and thus will still eat you out of house and home.

7) Do not freak out when you find him lying on his bed, staring into space, in total darkness because he has covered his windows. He is not in a coma. Remind him of him of his chores. It is better to have him angry with you than forgetting to breathe.

8) Do not roll your eyes and sigh when you hear him tell a story about his ex for the 7,346th time. The sound of his ex's name may make your teeth numb, but he does not comprehend your level of exasperation.

AND MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL:

9) Try to keep a straight face when reading his poetry. It will be really sappy and really bad. Really, REALLY bad. And Really SAPPY. REALLY.

Reverse Decorating

And so it begins - the after holiday clean up. I don not know why I even bother. Every year it is the same. Behold last year's fiasco:

Week 1 After New Year's Day - I went out and bought two new storage boxes to maximize organization. My dream is to some day have all of our holiday crap beautifully and safely stored in matching red and green plastic boxes. Don't laugh, it could happen.

Week Two After New Year's Day - I decided to retrieve the odd assortment of broken-down cardboard boxes from the attic that we normally use to store the Christmas crap. Luckily I remembered that I bought a couple of plastic storage boxes on sale last year. I spent the rest of the week tripping over the old cardboard boxes while searching for the "new" plastic ones from last year. I assured myself that they would contribute immensely to my quest for organization, especially when combined with my latest purchases.

Week Three After New Year's Day - It was deja vu all over again as I relived Week Two. I was certain that I was just minutes away from finding those stupid plastic boxes from last year. Surely all of this organization will make decorating for the holidays a snap in future years. I decided the aggravation I was enduring was worth it. Unfortunately I had now misplaced the most recently purchased boxes.

Week Four After New Year's Day - It was crunch time as I realized that I could not put it off any longer. The real tree in the den had morphed into a brown twig that was threatening to erupt into a flaming inferno at the smallest provocation. Taking this fire hazard down would not have been such a big deal were it not for the 872 heirloom ornaments that had to be removed (not to mention the lights). It sure would have been helpful if I could have found those stupid plastic boxes. I was briefly encouraged when I found one of the lids. I was then detoured by the renewed search for the stupid storage boxes.

Week Five After NYD - I had finally given up finding the plastic boxes. I decided that surely I would find them by the time I take down the fake tree in the living room. In the meantime, I loaded the rest of the "heirloom" ornaments into spare cardboard boxes, shoeboxes and plastic bags. I could have cared less that most of the cardboard boxes were covered by pieces of poster board and duct tape.

Week Six After NYD - That stupid tree in the living room was still up. I contemplated making it a "holiday" tree by changing the decorations for each holiday. I actually shopped for St. Patty's Day ornaments before I came to my senses. Even *I* know that the dust that stupid tree would collect would be more than my family could tolerate. Wimps. Besides, how would I store all the additional ornaments?

Week Ten After NYD - I finally got the rest of the Holiday crap put away. Unfortunately I had to resort to cramming it all in plastic grocery bags. I was defeated yet again.

Last August - I finally found the stupid plastic red and green storage boxes that I had purchased the last two years. They were lost again by Halloween.

I've decided to not sweat it this year. I already know I will be defeated. I'll just wait until a few days before Easter and cram it all back into plastic grocery bags again. Right now I have more important things to do, like sit on the sofa with a big bag of cheese popcorn and watch The Biggest Loser special. Yummy.