New Year, New You

First of all, don’t go changing on account of the New Year.  You are much too fabulous for that.

Stay you, stay true.

In the midst of our holiday break, which is whizzing by, the boys got new glasses.  This may seem insignificant but it isn’t.  Due to their unique and complex prescriptions, we have sometimes waited up to a year (a year!) to get new glasses made.

These new frames arrived less than a month after we dropped off the prescription. That has never happened in all of our days of taking boys to eye doctors.

Not once.

Keep in mind T.Puzzle started glasses when he was six months old and Full Speed at twenty months:

It’s been a long haul.

The one thing that has remained constant is how incredibly handsome my guys are in their glasses.  I didn’t think they could improve on this, but they did.

I am choosing not to comment on how much older they look in these new frames.

Is denial a viable resolution for the New Year?

If so, I am already crushing it.

Take that 2019!

Here are the before and afters:

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Check out Full Speed’s take on the College Football Playoffs:

Championship Chatter

children, family, humor, kids, motherhood, parenting

Shot Through the Heart

T.Puzzle on the first day of kindergarten

Oh, hello denial!  I didn’t see you standing there.  I was too busy pretending that sending T.Puzzle to kindergarten was a breeze.

Basically, this kindergarten thing has been fine and dandy with me as long as I could  accurately predict T.Puzzle’s behavior.  It’s when he starts going rogue on me and all of a sudden exhibits very Full Speed-like tendencies that all bets are off.

I was perfectly happy dropping him off as long as Full Speed escorted him to his class.  Things became dicey this week when he announced that he would no longer need Full Speed’s assistance and he would be walking in ‘all by myself!’ from here on out.

Now, I expected and accepted this kind of independent streak from Full Speed.  While I knew T.Puzzle had it in him, I thought that it would take a little longer to express on school grounds, like in ten years or so (ah, yes, there’s that lovely denial again).

As I watched T.Puzzle march to the entrance alone it felt like a bullet straight through my heart.

I will never be the same again and quite thankfully, neither will he.  I’m proud of his confidence and this softens the edges of the hurt I feel as I realize that everything has changed.

Mothers and kids must learn to separate, ‘bullet’ wounds eventually heal and the love a mother has for their child is always with them, even when they march their way towards independence.

Had I known he would grow so fast, I would have held him even tighter.
children, gratitude, humor, kids, mommyhood, motherhood, parenting, self-discovery, Taekwondo

The Sparring Truth

Now that T.Puzzle is a camoflauge belt, he technically is allowed to spar.  This means I am technically allowed to be completely neurotic about it.

the good ol' days when T.Puzzle was still a non-sparring yellow belt.

Oh, my denial runs deep.  I keep wishing and hoping that his sparring days are far, far in the future.

In class as I grabbed a seat another Mom asked me, “Has T.Puzzle sparred, yet?”

I went into this long explanation about how he has not, how I’m not ready for it, he’s too young, too timid and maybe Mad Dog can take him to a sparring class because I don’t want to see it.

I think a simple ‘no, he has not’ would have sufficed.

Needless to say, as soon as I’m done with my crazy little speech, the instructor approaches me and asks if  T.Puzzle has his sparring gear.

Today is the day.


The more I thought about it the more I realized my concerns about T.Puzzle sparring had nothing to do with him.

I am associating this with him being grown-up.

Newsflash— he is growing up.

Sometimes knowledge like this is worse than a flying high kick to the head.

After it was over, it was all relatively harmless, and T.Puzzle shouted, ‘that was the most awesomest!’, I paused and tried to be grateful for how well he handled it. 


I still have a ways to go yet.

children, kids, life in pictures, mommyhood, motherhood, parenting



Test Track, a popular attraction at Epcot, at ...
Image via Wikipedia


We were at Epcot for the day.  The weather was pitch perfect, the boys well-behaved and we were having a marvelous time.  Mad Dog insisted one of our first stops was Epcot’s Test Track.  I remember Test Track from a past trip and let’s just say, I’m not a fan.   Mad Dog and I had taken Full Speed along with my nieces and brother-in-law about two years ago.  Here is the photo of me completely relaxed and enjoying the ride:


Yes, I'm that big of a scaredy-cat


Fast forward two years and now Mad Dog wants to take both my boys.  Was he serious?  Yep.  He instructed me to go sit at the exit by the gift shop (of course the exit is by a gift shop).  I did so and ordered my mind not to think about how frightening I found the ride as a grown adult.  I ignored the instinct to grab my three year old T.Puzzle and run for the hills.  I sat quietly and I waited.

That’s when it began.  The mind-numbing roar of the test cars on the track overhead.  Each sounded like a freight train colliding with a Mack truck.  Oh, and then there were the piteous screams of the helpless passengers spilling over and making me feel very, very nauseous.

Okay.  I can do this.  I can pretend to be a rational Mommy and wait patiently.

Roar.  Scream.

Roar.  Scream.

By this time my anxiety had reached full throttle.  My stomach was in knots.  A kid next to me joked that it was taking so long for his older brother to emerge because someone must have been flung from a car.

Roar. Scream.

At that point I almost lost it.

Another fifteen minutes passed and keep in mind, my boys supposedly had fast passes to this ride.  I think I aged about thirty years as I waited for their ride to be over.

Finally, I saw them.

They were perfectly fine.  T.Puzzle cried a little at the end (the scariest portion), insisted he would not be riding it again and was quite proud of himself.  I pretended to be all calm and collected.  I congratulated him and let him have him his moment.

Looks like my boy is growing up.  Unfortunately, this feels a whole lot scarier to me than any ride in the world.

children, humor, kids, kindergarten, mommyhood, motherhood, parenting

Kindergarten: Take Two

Full Speed is embracing his change of class.  I hope it continues to go smoothly for him.

I’m trying to let this transition unfold naturally even though my Mommy instinct is screaming for me to micromanage the heck out of it.  As soon as I caught wind of his move I wanted to personally escort him to his new class, meet his new teacher (interviewing her at great length of course), set up a detailed and daily email dialogue with her and the principal of the school and actually attend kindergarten with Full Speed at least for the first week (or two)in his new classroom.

Instead, I am taking deep breaths, pretending I am a rational human being and letting the staff of the school handle this change as they see fit.

All I can do is ask Full Speed where his new classroom is (okay, so I asked him like twenty times!) and since he repeatedly gave the same answer and seems to know where he is going, drop the kid off like every other kindergarten morning before us, wave goodbye and say, “Have a great day, Full Speed!”

Now, if only I could somehow manage to jury rig a video surveillance apparatus to his backpack…