BOOM!

Something seemed amiss with my iPhone.  It was telling me that I was going to be riding in the car for two hours longer than I thought.  Wait a minute!  I agreed to ride ten hours to Baltimore, but for some reason, these two extra hours were not sitting well with me.  Twelve hours one way made me want to get out of the car immediately.  I would rather just live somewhere off of I-95 instead of having ridden in that car for one more second!!

Mad Dog was nonplussed.  He had managed to sweet talk me into this road trip to see Ohio State play Navy.   There was a lot about this trip that seemed crazy.  Driving 20 plus hours in four days, taking the boys out of school and oh, did I mention, it was all for a football game?  This may surprise you but I am not a passionate football fan.   On the upside, we were able to take the boys to the Naval Academy which was spectacular and watching the entire population of midshipman take the field before kick-off gave me goosebumps.  However, I still do not consider this a ‘college visit’, Mad Dog.  Yes, we technically visited a college, but no, my seven and nine-year old are not quite ready to enroll (enlist?).  Either way, it isn’t happening anytime soon.

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As the game started and we watched our Buckeyes struggle, I begin to feel frustrated.  To make matters worse, my sensitive nervous system was not handling Navy’s cannon shots well.  To signify to the stadium that Navy had scored, regained possession or a quarter ended, their cannon would boom with enthusiasm.  It startled me almost every single time.  It got to be comical.  My boys would warn me it was coming and then, BOOM, I would nearly jump out of my skin.  Between the Buckeyes lackluster early performance and feeling like I was being shot by a cannon every five minutes, I was about ready to lose my mind.  At one point I considered storming the field to let Urban Meyer know that “Mommy did not just ride TWELVE hours for this and he better rally the team or cannon shots would be the least of his worries!”.   Thankfully, while it wasn’t pretty, the Buckeyes managed to pull out a win (Braxton Miller we miss you!).

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T.Puzzle’s heart breaks as Navy scores.

O-H

O-H!

Let’s hope the rest of the football season sees more wins, less cannons and lots more shared family experiences!  Go Buckeyes!

 

 

 

 

A Comment of Appreciation

This is a special post of acknowledgement for my dear friend, Moni. When she reads my blog, she thoughtfully comments on each and every post. I appreciate all of her feedback and I appreciate her. She is an amazing and talented artist (thus the crazy art-type pic of my boys I put in this post is in her honor).

Thanks to her and everyone else out there sharing in this amazing journey of raising two unique, complicated bundles of energy. Looking forward to an amazing 2010 and hope you all will join me for the ride…., comments welcome!

Pet Problem

I would give just about anything to have my dog back. I’m sure it would be a relief to Grandma and Grandpa who are so generously housing her. While T.Puzzle’s allergy to her is unfortunate, I hope that someday and some way she will come back to my house and my family.

At breakfast over syrupy waffles, Full Speed had what he thought was a lightbulb moment.

“Mom, T.Puzzle’s not allergic to cats! Let’s get a cat for a pet!”

“Well, sweetie, I’m allergic to cats so that wouldn’t work,” I say.

“Oh.”

I have clearly taken the wind from his sails. His shoulders slump and he looks defeated.

Then, another lightbulb moment. Full Speed’s face lights up as he thinks his has solved our pet problem.

“How about a horse? We can get it when he’s little and then set him free when he gets too big. Are you and T.Puzzle allergic to horses?”

No, but I’m allergic to requests and questions for which I have no answer.

Forget the Park

I decided to take the boys to the library park after school. I know their day is long at school but it usually bodes well for me at home if they can run some energy out. They were psyched as we pulled into the parking lot. As I looked across the field that stood between us and the actual playground, it resembled a muddy swamp. There were rivulets of murky water mazed throughout the grassy muck. I took one look and knew it wasn’t gonna happen. I told the boys we had a change of plans and would head to a park that was closer to home (and less of a mud disaster).

Full Speed was mad. He decided to have an awful attitude as we came upon our new location. At one point he decided to take a handful of mulch and throw it at T.Puzzle at point-blank range. Slowly and after a time-out or two, he readjusted his attitude and begrudgingly played.

I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that urged me to call our time at the park to a close sooner rather than later. They were both on edge and even though the weather was pitch perfect, I didn’t want to chance it. I announced it’s time to leave and then T.Puzzle goes into the throes of a level 9 meltdown. Slowly and after a time-out or two, he readjusted his attitude and begrudgingly left.

Why is it that when you are doing something out of the ordinary for your kids that it more often than not it completely backfires? It almost seems that the more good intentions and higher the expectations, the more it can fail. Then you bring home your two crabby kids and throw them in the bath (something they do all the time) and they have the time of their lives. Think of all the money Disney World would lose if parents actually caught on to this logic. Stay home and give your kids a bath instead.

By the way, did I mention we are considering a day trip to Disney sometime before the end of the year? Should be interesting.