humor, motherhood, parenting

My Brush with Danger

As the lone female in our house I get that I am more detailed oriented when it comes to self-care and the minutiae of running a home.  It then lands on me to decide how important I think something is and to the degree I want to pursue it.

Take toothbrushes for example.  I took it upon myself to buy everyone electric brushes because I believe (or at least believe the marketing) that these will improve my boys’ oral hygiene (especially with T.Puzzle newly in braces).  This particular kind sends you replacement heads every three months.

Great.

So the three month mark arrives and it’s time to replace.  Absolutely no one other than myself cares about this.

No one.

Either I replace them all or all three of my guys will use the brush they have indefinitely.

While I did drag my feet on principle I couldn’t take it anymore and set about getting new bristles in place.

The grime I encountered on the boys’ brushes as I did so made my skin crawl.  I’m not sure what it was or how my boys had not yet contracted a flesh-eating bacteria from it, but the muck and guck in and around the toothbrush holder and on the toothbrushes themselves, made me queasy, queasy, queasy.

How they saw that and still used the brushes is a mystery or a remarkable act of courage.

I now have a choice.  I can give them instructions on the ins and outs of daily brush care, or I can let it go.

If I let it go, which is the direction I am leaning, I am praying that I can Amazon Prime myself a hazmat suit for when the next replacement bristles arrive.

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Lucky to be alive

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

dogs, motherhood

This Guy

My voice rang clear as we zipped along the street towards home.  Seconds earlier I had declared, “This song is my jam.”

There is nothing more cringe-worthy than a parent stating that any song is their jam.

It’s kind of why I had to say it.  It’s kind of true that saying songs are my jam is kind of my jam because my boys think it’s weird.

But, on this day, I didn’t let that stop me.  On this day, I really did wanna dance with somebody.

Maybe even somebody who loves me.

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You know who loves me?  This guy.

 

humor, motherhood

The Lady of the House

I have always loved Mad Dog’s athleticism.  When we were dating, I would take great pride watching him from the sidelines as he crashed his way to the end zone for his touch football team.

Lately, he has been playing more and more basketball with the boys in our backyard.  These games consist of trash talk, spin moves and flagrant(!) fouling.

Yesterday’s game was no exception.  It was 1 v 1, Mad Dog against T.Puzzle.  I sat on our back porch and watched the glory unfold.  Full Speed was next to me spouting off the official referee calls as Mad Dog muscled his way towards victory.   One shot shy of the win, he dropped back deep on the pavement and launched a beauty.  It banked off the backboard slamming home the win.

Something about the whole thing reminded me of those good ol’ days of dating.  I’m not gonna lie, my stomach did some flips.

Mad Dog’s still got game.

At dinner in our post-game analysis, Mad Dog recounted that winning shot.

“I did it for my woman,” he said.

Both T.Puzzle and Full Speed asked, “Yeah, but was she watching?”

As in was Miss Lady watching?  As in, Miss Lady is clearly THE lady Mad Dog was showing off for and I was just a random spectator.

No doubt I can’t compete ….

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Miss Lady sprawls herself across Mad Dog’s lap in devoted adoration.
family, humor, kids, motherhood

I Would Walk 500 Miles (T.Puzzle Out)

Where we live, while awesomely close to downtown, having a yard is unusual.  Giant houses that take up every square inch of their lot are the norm.

I treasure my small backyard.  With so many statuesque trees flanking our streets, songbirds abound.  If I am really lucky, I might see a deer:

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Just kidding.  Our alley is being reworked so the only deer(e) I see cause quite a ruckus.

Besides the mild annoyance of construction noise, where we live is very fun.  We are a few blocks away from excellent restaurants.  We try to walk to meals out as much as we can.

Most of our family loves this.

T.Puzzle hates this.

He hates to walk anywhere.  To him it is slow, boring and ultimately pointless.

Seated at lunch last weekend, the four of us had walked to a new taco joint.  The food was great and the weather perfect for our outside table.

We debated if we would walk to get ice cream before hitting Target (yes! we can walk to Target!).  We didn’t want to push T.Puzzle’s attitude because we know better, and he is only a mild fan of ice cream, weird, I know.

“You up for walking for ice cream?” said Mad Dog.

Silence.

Then, slowly, T.Puzzle formed a response as his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug.

“I guess so.”

I read the meaning behind his words.

“Basically, T.Puzzle is willing to walk with us but he will be super depressed about it the whole time,” I said.  “Did I guess that right?”

“Yep,” said T.Puzzle.

This boy sugar coats nothing.

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humor, motherhood

Age-Less(?)

At a recent dance/cardio class, a woman I was conversing with could not believe that I had kids that were fourteen and twelve.  She was under the impression I was in my twenties so when I started talking about Full Speed approaching his first year of high school, she almost fell over.

I normally dance in the front row of class and she is always anchored towards the back.  It was an easy mistake but also flattering.

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That’s me front and center dancing up a storm wearing Cubbie blue of course.

I should have kept this story to myself.

You know T.Puzzle, he likes to keep things ‘real’.

He quickly put me in my place and in no uncertain terms shared that the absolute youngest I could pass for was forty-three.

I’m forty-four.

Oh well.

It’s not just T.Puzzle that keeps me in check.  I have a minor obsession with birds and flowers.  To my delight, I have this magazine app that has several back-issues of Birds and Blooms.  It makes my heart happy to peruse the colorful photos and imagine being face-to-face with these adorable, fluttery beings immersed in a sea of flowers.

My struggle comes in the form of this particular magazine’s ads.  Hearing aids, orthopedic shoes and various bladder control products are the major themes.

At least I’m still dancing…

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