Raising a Terrorist (?) and Dwarfism

I don't know why more moms aren't making millions on the comedy circuit... My kids provide plenty of milk-out-your-nose fodder. Like today...

But first, a little background...

Everyone knows that I hold my husband in highest regard. Having said that, he is still a Dad and not a Mom. We're moving in on Saturday: Jon takes Mackey to do all the U-Haul stuff, pick-ups, un-packing, etc. while I take Lucy for a special test. Sometime during the Mack-Daddy male bonding, a Swiss-Army knife is exchanged, as in: "Here, Mackey, why don't I give you this knife." Jon assures me, even as I write this, that they had 'an understanding' that it was only to be used under adult supervision. In the mele, Jon forgets to retrieve the knife back from Mackey, and Mackey, no fool, doesn't mention it either.

Fast forward to Sunday after church...

Me: So, guys what kind of stuff did you do in Primary today?

Mackey: We colored pictures of bunnies. Oh, and I have my knife.

Me (cough, sputter - low, conspiratol tone): What?! Please tell me that you didn't you show that to all the kids in your class?!

Mackey (matter-of-factly): No, Mom, just my teachers.

Lucy (as loud as her 7 year old voice can strain): Mackey! You can't bring a knife to church! They're gonna think that Mom is rasing a terrorist!!!

Yes, this is actually my life. But wait! There's more (just minus that public humiliation - a subject in which I could probably earn a PhD...)

Tonight, we were just on our way to a Waffle and Ice Cream Social for the newly moved in members of our church congregation. Really fun. On our way, Mackey points out that he saw a small boy riding his bike without 'adult supervision'. Lucy, smartly stunned at both the thought of a child not being supervised and the irony of Mackey's keen observation of such, has to counter with an alternative possibility: "Well, yeah, or he could just have dwarfism." Of course, dwarfism.

All Hail Overstock.com

I've had a lot of fun virtually furnishing my make-believe house that I don't have possession of yet. I've clogged up our tight living quarters with furniture and flatware, and I've placed orders for certain things to arrive at the new house that I thought would take longer to ship. Unfortunately, what I didn't account for was my geographical change within the United States. Huh, you say? Since Texas is smack dab in the middle of the country, 1) alot of places have warehouses here: Target and Horchow for starters, and 2) a lot of distribution is done in the midwest putting us closer to the delivery source. For instance, I ordered 4 chairs from my beloved http://target.com/ on a Monday afternoon. No kidding, they arrived Tuesday afternoon. I was budgeting ship times based on my experiences in back east, very congested metro Virginia.

Perhaps I jumped the gun because it all bit me in the behiney last night. I was checking the status of an order I had placed on http://overstock.com/, when I realized that the extremely cool leopard print rug I'd ordered arrived a day early...and was marked as deliverd to doorstep. Crud. As you can imagine, the rug was nowhere to be found when I got there this a.m. After calling the construction manager, sales guy, and my dad (to plan a return for reward strategy), I decided to live chat with Overstock. They gave me NO GRIEF at all and offered to replace rug if it wasn't to be found by UPS. I was so impressed, I had to tell all of you about it. And by all, I mean my 6 faithful readers! I've included some pix of a

couple of things I've ordered...

Help! I'm Having a Hairstyle Crisis!

I was up WAY TOO LATE last night looking for new hair. It's kind of like my personal holy grail. But last night, I think I had a breakthrough. I went to http://www.instyle.com/instyle/makeover/ , uploaded a picture of myself and went to town. It was really fun, and I'm posting the two best plus a safe change that is most like the hair I have now. Please tell me what you think...you know, in the nicest way possible.

Milepebbles...not so much stones

So, cutie patootie (as much as it galls me to quote ANYTHING Rosie O'Donnell) Calvin had a very belated 15 month check up today. Man, do I feel like a slacker mom http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/6960732/site/newsweek/ or http://www.slacker-moms-r-us.com/!

Here's the list of questions that were answered by brief, uncomfortable silence:

• RN: Is he walking? ME: Uh...well...he climbs...like Spiderman. Does that count? Have you seen his thighs? You'd have a hard time moving those things around, too!


• RN: How many words does he have? At least 5-10, right? ME: Words...words? He really likes to point out balls...Oh! And mom. Er... How many did you say he should have?


• RN: How many servings of vegetables does he eat a day? (Really long pause - I barely cook in the apartment) ME: Servings a DAY? Or a WEEK?


• RN: What animals does he know? ME: Well, there's Yoda and then there's Chewbacca, but I'm not sure they have patent 'sounds'. Well, Chewbacca does. I actually think that he's skipped the whole 'animal thing'...

I'm laying this all squarely at the feet of...my children. They baby the baby. He barely has to talk to get what he wants, let alone move. And then there's the whole 'in transition'.

The (really great, by the way) RN ended the appointment with: "Well, don't hesitate to call to schedule an appointment if you get worried about his development."

Heath Wincott 38

Lest I be flattered that a drunken Walmart regular who looked like the bitter love child of Heath Ledger (awesome) and the creepy lackey to Sheriff Nottingham in Kevin Costner's Robin Hood aka Michael Wincott (bad)...I was a-talking with a dad at the playground and somehow age came up. He says, "So, what are you, 38?" Ok, not that 38 is old. Duh. But I'm NOT 38. And at the rabbit-hutch rate that these wrinkles around my eyes are reproducing, I need to stave off every extra year! Any anti-wrinkle cream recommendations?

Love, Logic, and Preschool In No Particular Order

Hey...anyone out there have an opinion or used "Love and Logic" (http://loveandlogic.com)? I would love your feedback! Please comment. Lucy's school is providing seminars, and I'm considering the seminars or the books on cd.
Also, and no, I don't have pictures yet, Mackey started preschool this week! We slipped him into a great program when someone dropped at the very last moment! Wahoo! I had no idea just how 'competitive' it was (in the most Ashburn, VA kind of way) until I ran into a mom who goes to my church outside the classroom. (Wow! That was a lot of prepositions!) She was stunned that a newbie a) found it out and b) could get in on short notice.
Because they have full-day kindergarten, preschool hours are long to ease transition: 9 am - 2 pm. They even have a nap time! Is that not the cutest thing??? I was commenting to Kim Auch that long preschool hours are bitter-sweet: it's the start of an educational career centered on his spending a long time with other people; and it's nice to have the break. After a week of him being home sick, difficult sick not darling sick, it's less bitter.

Walmart - The Freaks Come Out at Night

When I lived in VA, I didn't go to Walmart. Because it was scary. My friend, Jenn Mangum told me that SHE didn't go there either because whenever she did, random people yelled at her or (no kidding) threw up on her. In Texas, I go grocery shopping at Walmart; I don't like it, but I do it. It's close to the apartment, and it's cheap. Unfortunately for me, I wind up going after 9 pm when my children are in bed. And, as anyone who has been in a Walmart after 9 pm knows, the freaks come out at night http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLYC7ltxOrk.

Case in point (and I am NOT making this up): My kids were all home sick today, so I wanted to go running at the gym tonight after they went to bed - just to get out. Afterwards, I went to the aforementioned Walmart to pick up some bread, milk, and other sundries. I get my groceries; and no matter where I'm at, I cannot resist looking at clothes. So, I'm checking out some little boy t-shirts in the children's department. Some young-ish guy (shopping for little kid clothes, too?) looks at me, smiles, and says something. I'm kind of deaf, so, stepping closer, I politely ask him to repeat himself. He says something again. He's so darn quiet, so, again, I ask him to repeat himself. Seriously, this goes on two more times. I really don't hear very well, especially if there's a lot of other environmental noise...like in a Walmart at 10 pm when people go shopping with all of their extended family and children in tow. But anyway, I finally hear him: "Are you interested in a one-time fling?" Huh? Me? I'm shopping for kids clothes?! I was so embarrassed! I half laughed, half turned away and said, "No thank you." No thank you. Who says NO THANK YOU?! As I'm walking away, I think of all the things I SHOULD have said. One, in particular: "Um, seriously, has that ever worked before?" (Ever the curious sociologist.) So, please weigh in: what should I have said? What would you have said? Remi, my dear, quick-witted friend, I want to hear from you, too!!!!