family, humor, kids, motherhood

For the Love of Cookies

The rain poured down as I exited the campus building.  I dodged raindrops as I made my way to my car on this last night of my creative writing class.

Where we live is prone to standing water which can turn to a flood in an instant.  Since class had run late, I texted Mad Dog to assure him I would be home soon.

He responded: “All your boys waiting for you.”

Wasn’t that sweet?

I arrived home fifteen minutes later.  As soon as I walked in, the scent of freshly baked cookies washed over me.  Mad Dog had ordered cookies to be delivered for all of us to enjoy.

The boys were not waiting for me.  They were waiting to eat cookies because Mad Dog would not allow it until I came home.

Even Full Speed admitted it was a 60/40 situation.  60% waiting to eat the cookies vs. 40% waiting for me.

Hurt pride did not prevent me from enjoying my cookies.  I mean if you are going to come in second to something, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies aren’t a bad way to go.

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humor, motherhood

Victory

Full Speed clunked his way through the school library doors.  The past couple days tested him.  A cold slowed his usual enthusiasm for life and by the looks of him, I knew his day drained what little energy he had left.  He sat in silence while I finished up my volunteer tasks.  Once T.Puzzle arrived, we made our way to the car.

I asked Full Speed point-blank, “What did you have for lunch?”

He said, “Nothing.”

Nothing!  Alarm bells rang loud and clear in my head.  He passed on breakfast and instead of forcing the issue, I made him promise to eat something at lunch.

Once lunchtime arrived, his appetite would reappear.  I counted on that and said as much to him.

To hear him say he ate nothing all day seemed unacceptable.

“You.  Are eating dinner.  No negotiation.  Understand me?” I said.

He nodded in defeat.

Later, at the dinner table as T.Puzzle described his luncheon with the principal (as an honor, not a punishment, thank goodness!), something in the way Full Speed’s eyes twinkled, made me question if he skipped lunch.

“Full Speed, did you really not eat lunch?” I said.

Silence.

“Full Speed?”

No answer.

“Alright, I guess I’ll just look it up on your lunch account and find out for myself.”

“Yes!  I had lunch!  Okay?” he said.

“Why would you lie about that?” I said.

“Because then I would have to admit you were right.  My appetite did come back and I was hungry.  I already had two days of feeling sick.  I couldn’t admit that my mom was right and I was wrong on top of that!”

Like a lunch after hours of not eating, victory never tasted so sweet.

 

Victory

dogs, humor, motherhood

Blaze of Glory

Change is not without challenge.  When you are a senior citizen, this sometimes amplifies your resistance to change.

For the record, I am referring to my senior dog, Little Guy, and not myself.  Yes, I had to clarify as my children are certain I am quite advanced in age.

Little Guy turned fifteen this summer.  He has lived a long, healthy, happy existence and is still enjoying life (well, at least the parts he doesn’t sleep through).  However, with all this change surrounding us, eating was no longer a favorite activity.  He began to reject all forms of meticulously prepared kibble and such.  He preferred treats and began to beg for table scraps.

This went on for many weeks.  He began to lose weight and started to lose some of his zip.

Finally, in a last-ditch effort (yes, the situation was becoming quite dire), I stumbled upon a raw food diet that he adores.  I don’t mind one bit that it’s super fancy.

He’s little.

He’s old.

He can have whatever his heart desires.

Since he began his fancy food, he is a much more content, happy boy.

He loves his life again.

In essence, he is reverting back to his natural heritage of being a carnivorous beast.

He’s going out in a blaze of glory.

Just make sure you heat up his food for twenty seconds in the microwave before you serve him.

He’s not a complete savage for goodness sakes!

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family, humor, motherhood

Snapped (the little rubber bands of the world)

It was small.  Almost microscopic in relation to all the other LEGO components.

It really shouldn’t have mattered, but, oh, did it make my blood boil.

To keep things completely honest, this tiny LEGO part that I am referring to belonged to a gigantic guilt-induced, we-are-moving-you-away-from-family-and-friends LEGO set Mad Dog and I had purchased for T.Puzzle.

It’s a rollercoaster.

The LEGO set, not my emotional well-being.

Scratch that.

Both are a rollercoaster.

Look out, world!

To get back to the tiny part that was missing, let me explain why I was ready to lose my mind.

As you know, moving = chaos.   There are boxes.  There are boxes.  Let me repeat, there are boxes.

And they are everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.

And the stuff!  It’s everywhere yet you cannot find what you need to save your life.

So, as T.Puzzle began construction on his rollercoaster, I explicitly said to him:

“Please put these tiny, teeny, very-small-indeed rubber bands SOMEWHERE THAT YOU WON’T LOSE THEM.”

Yep.

He lost them and with them, my last remaining shred of sanity.

Even as I was disproportionately overreacting to the loss of these rubber bands, I allowed myself a freak out.

I even said out loud, “I realize my reaction does not match what is happening, but, it can’t be helped.”

What added to the comedy (tragedy?), is that all three of my boys kept throwing each other under the bus. Lots of accusations about what had happened to the lost items were bandied about.

Guess how much personal accountability was offered?

Zero.

Zilch.

Nada.

Eventually, after some CSI-level maneuverings, the missing pieces materialized.

Mad Dog had ‘stored’ them in our kitchen garbage can.

Moving forward I have two options:

  1. Never buy another LEGO set again
  2. Never move for the rest of my natural life

 

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Recently, it has come to my attention I am a softie for my ‘baby’.  I don’t disagree. See that face?  He’s probably getting more LEGOs.  That is all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

children, humor, kids, motherhood

Well Done!

By the time the boys and I met our friends at a local restaurant, it was well past lunchtime.  My friend and I took advantage of the post-lunch lull and asked to be seated in separate booths from our small gang of boys (she has three all around my boys’ ages).

We were hoping to have some quiet conversation and allow our guys the independence to order by themselves.  We had no illusions about the process.  We were fine with burgers and fries for all.

Later, when we were home.  The boys cracked up over how long it took all of them to order.  But, they did it.

T.Puzzle was particularly amused when two of his friends ordered their burgers ‘well-done’.  Through the years we always have coached him to choose ‘medium’.

“Why do you think this is so funny, T.Puzzle?  Some people happen to prefer their meat to be cooked all the way through,” I said.

“Oh!  I thought they were telling the waiter to let the cook know they wanted their burger to be good or else.”

It’s a learning curve for sure.

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One of my all-time favorite pictures of T.Puzzle. He was told to pick up toys in the living room and proceeded to put himself in the toy bin. Well done!