Inside Out

"Do you see it, Mom? Do you?"

"I wrote your NAME!!"

To laugh or to cry, that is the question

Long day yesterday. In the morning, we tried to go grocery shopping but ended up leaving with no groceries because of tantrums from both older two. Later that afternoon, there was a point when I was stuck in rush-hour traffic, all three kids screaming and hungry, when I thought, It can't get much worse than this.

Then Deeds threw up his dinner all over the table. (Yes. Yes, it can get worse.) For awhile we all just sat there in stunned silence.

Note to self: it takes throw up to calm everyone down?

But after that he was totally fine. That seemed like the end of it.

We had been planning another assault on the grocery store this morning, seeing as we had nothing in the house (which is ironic since I actually took the time to plan every meal for the whole month.) I guess meal plans don't work if you don't have food. Rookie mistake.

But then, Sharks threw up his breakfast.

So we gave up the Big Grocery Trip and determined a quick trip for the basics was in order.

I should mention that I was wearing a button down dress shirt of Chet's, you know like in the movies? How a lady will wear her man's shirt and look all sexy?

Well, since we're being honest here, you should know that my wearing of his shirt is not an attempt at hotness, but more of a testiment to how long it's been since I've done laundry. We were cracking up about it this morning because it was not cute at all, just big and hideous...oh, I think part of the problem was that I was wearing pants.

Note to self: sexy shirt thing only works WITHOUT pants (and I'm guessing without throw up on it? Jury's still out on that one though.)

Since we determined that a) we had no groceries, and b) I looked like a frump-monster, it was clearly my job to hit up the store.

After I made it back to the car with the groceries, I looked down and realized that the middle button on my shirt was completely and utterly unbuttoned.

Fantastic.

I probably shouldn't say this, but it can't possibly get any worse than this.

There will be mud

"He was covered in mud, like a...umm...like a brown dog!!"
~Sharks

Sweet Sixteen

In our house, The Wiggles is contraband. Chet figures that there is better shows for the boys to watch, and let's face it - The Wiggles aren't exactly manly.

Yesterday though, Sharks asked if he could take a Wiggles dvd on an upcoming road trip. Chet said no.

Of course Sharks tried to go all lawyer on us:
Mom! I have an idea. Maybe when Pops is at school we can watch The Wiggles!

(I tried my best to nip that in the bud - and explained that even when Pops isn't here we still remember and obey his words. I think he understood because he didn't ask about it anymore that night.)

The next morning at breakfast though, Sharks started chucking to himself and said,

Mom! I thought of something really silly. What if Pops died, and the rest of us were still alive - then could we watch The Wiggles?

(Sharks almost got his wish because Chet and I both just about died of laughter right there in the kitchen.)

After we recovered, Chet told Sharks that when he turns sixteen he can decide for himself whether or not to watch The Wiggles.

So my son is looking forward to being sixteen not because he'll be able to drive, but because it means the freedom to choose...to watch The Wiggles.

And I for one cannot wait for the day when I get to remind him of this moment.

You talk weird

My husband has many gifts but one of them is not doing fake accents. Actually every time he tries I tell him he sounds like a constipated, drunk Irishman whether he's doing an Irish accent or not (you might think that means it sounds legit - but in this case not so much.)

Let me think for a sec about how to describe this to you in all it's glory. Ummm...ok. Here goes. He sounds like he was terribly constipated, then got drunk to forget about the constipation, except he got so drunk he forgot where he was from or what language he was speaking and yet somehow what comes out of his mouth still sounds constipated, with a twist of gibberish - there's his fake accent in a nutshell.

Lest you think I am being mean to the hubs, let me just say that few things in life bring me as much joy as his Irish accent.

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Most of you peeps know that I spent my junior high and high school years in Scotland. I came back with a funky accent, a sort of American-Edinburgh hybrid. My first week back here I overheard some girls talking about me and they were like, "Why does she sound so weird?" Awesome. Every high school girl wants to be told they sound weird.

Like most teenagers, I wanted to be like everyone else and tried my best to get rid of my accent as soon as possible. (Boo to my high school self.) So now, though accent-less myself, I love listening to other people talk.

Which is how Chet and I ended up watching Celtic Thunder infomercials last night (him for tips, me for enjoyment.) So many levels of embarrassing right there that you will only comprehend if you have seen Celtic Thunder yourself. I guarantee that no matter what you watched yesterday, it was less embarrassing than that.

Anyway. Fast forward hours later and we were getting ready for bed when out of the blue Chet bursts into song and sings, "Damn Birdie Show!"

If you are wondering, What's a birdie show and what is so awful about it? then you are thinking the same thing I was.

Turns out he was actually singing, "Down by the shore." Apparently that's a line from a Celtic Thunder song.

Somehow he is convinced that my miscomprehension of what he said means that his accent is good.

Fur pillows are hard to actually sleep on

If you haven't seen this, (originally found here) you should. Josh Groban mocks quite effortlessly, but let's be honest. Kanye was kinda asking for it.

For the record, I would be totally ok with Josh (first name basis, why not?) singing my facebook statuses. I'd particularly like to hear his rendition of: "Still puzzled over how Deeds actually managed to swallow a foot-and-a-half of dental floss..."

Yes. That really did happen. Yes, (sigh) I really did give him dental floss. Now that I think about it, it doesn't seem all that intelligent. But at the time...

I really did not think he would EAT it. That never even crossed my mind. He came to me all proud and said,

MOMMY! I ate it!

You ate what?

The floss!

No, really. (dumbfounded. completely.) Where did you put the floss?

In here! (opens mouth. points inside.)

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That's going to be a treat on the flip side, ifyouknowwhatimean.

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I was going to try to wiggle that fur pillows comment into something on this post, but all that jumps out at me is the (bad) grammar.

Split infinitive, ending with a preposition (apparently Winston Churchill disagrees and I like Churchill so I may have to rethink my position on this). I realize that it was a tweet, but something about hearing it Josh Groban-style raises expectations, you know?

However, fur pillows now sound quite intriguing.

Deedo's Birthday! (last July)

Nope. We don't have three birthdays in a row.

I simply forgot to post about my middle son. Apparently I forgot last year when he turned one too. Poor little guy. At least we didn't forget to celebrate, so that's something.

We were actually visiting Chet's family, so his mom took over the cake decorating and it turned out GREAT! (I actually took her idea and ran with it and made Sharks a basketball cake this year...right now, simple=perfect.)