Roommate problems…

images

Here is a scenario. Completely made up.

Say, there is a girl who just went to college, like almost 2 weeks ago. And this girl thought she did a good job “screening” her roommate before they decided to bunk together. They hung out several times over the summer, and talked enough that she felt they had plenty in common. Rooming together would be great fun.

And let’s pretend that when they moved in together, this girl found out that her roommate was not quite what she expected.

Like maybe the roommate brought strange guys into the room at odd hours of the night/morning when the girl was trying to sleep. Because it’s always fun to wake up at 2am with a strange man looking into your face.

And maybe the roommate hooked up with more random guys while the girl was at class, and she had the pleasure of walking in on them when she came back to the room to study and go to bed, so instead went to sleep in another friends room because her room was full of people having sex.

And what if, this roommate actually started to pick on the girl for not hooking up with anyone yet…. because they’ve been away from parental authority for like 10 days, what the hell is she waiting for?

Gosh. Wouldn’t that suck?

Purple cake is the best for birthdays

Jenna and I decided to put our heads together and come up with the absolute best possible cake to make for her daddy’s birthday.

It didn’t take long for her to spot it.

At Target, of course.

At Target, of course.

This was not negotiable. So, I got it. Along with purple Funfetti frosting because we don’t do anything halfway in this family.

Ready to tackle the intricacies of a layer cake with purple stripes, we jumped right in.

She's ready to start!

She’s ready to start!

Mixing the purple color in

Mixing the purple color in

So after following the directions and adding eggs, water, oil, blah, blah, blah…. we divided the batter and added purple dye to one bowl. You then take 1/2 to 1/3 cup of each color and alternate pouring it into the center of each pan… letting it spread out before adding the next scoop. This is how you make the stripes. Kids thought it was great fun.

purple4 purple2

We bake. We cool. We dump out the cakes and are ready to stack and frost.

Now, I am not a master cake decorator… but my mom was/is. She took classes and everything. I know how to properly stack layers and frost a cake because of her. However, we were in no mood for the massive amount of wasted time that goes into doing things….properly. Besides, it’s really not as fun that way.

purple3

Now, you can’t see just how big the gaps around the center of the cake were since we didn’t level the layers nicely before throwing them together. The purple funfetti frosting was used as more of a spackle in this situation, and it worked beautifully. All the gaps were filled in and I didn’t have to open an extra container.

purple1

Jenna is pretty thrilled with herself, for having the genius idea of making a purple cake. This is her realizing her dream.

Sammy is a bit speculative at this point. Not fully taken with the idea yet, but willing to see it through.

Out comes the sprinkles....

Out comes the sprinkles….

Very serious business

Very serious business

Now… at this point the cake was done, but we had to wait until Daddy got home from his trip to celebrate his birthday. So….. the next day, as he is upstairs being very slow as usual getting himself ready for the day……. the kids were “decorating” for him. Still in the purple theme.

purple7 purple8

And now, with the spiderwebby streamers in place, and daddy finally ready to come downstairs to witness the amazingness of his birthday surprise………

Ladies and gentlemen…. without further ado, I give you…..

The Cake.

Ta-da!!

Ta-da!!

jealous much?

jealous much?

Good choice, Jenna. He didn’t see that one coming. Best, most delicious, purple-striped birthday cake ever.

Gone.

We made it to the campus. Only cried once so far.

We made it to the campus, and found somewhere to park!  Only cried once so far.

Got a golf-cart ride to the dorm… and I sat with my sister for an hour, waiting for Rachel and her dad to get the ok to unload the car. Cried a few times, once heavily.

Oh...she's embarrassed!!! YES.

Oh…she’s embarrassed!!! YES.

It was a strange feeling for me. Watching these kids, and the amounts of energy they put forth. You could FEEL the opportunity, the fun, the excitement…. I got caught up in the rush myself, wishing I’d had the chance to experience this when I was her age. So grateful that she is here, part of this…. and yet I’m still terrified to leave her here.

The door. Just about to be opened for the first time.

The door. Just about to be opened for the first time.

First steps into the room.

First steps into the room.

My sunglasses were kept on as we navigated the stairs and halls, and I managed to smile during my silent sobbing.

Still able to smile. This is a good thing.

Still able to smile. This is a good thing.

We unpacked, kind of. Bunked the beds, it took all 4 of us. Later found out maintenance could have done it for us…. something to remember for next time. Decided to get some lunch while her roommate was on her way to the room with her own family. Saying goodbye was not yet imminent, so I was actually hungry…. enjoying the last hours with her.

After eating, a trip to the bookstore, and a trip to Target….all within walking distance of her dorm… we headed back.

Now is the hard(est) part.

Saying goodbye.

I’m crying right now, thinking about it. It still feels so weird that she’s THERE…. for so LONG…… Ugh.

Her pushing me out the door.

Her pushing me out the door.

No, she didn’t really push me out the door. She was gracious, telling me I could stay as long as I wanted. But I knew I needed to let her get to it. I knew I needed to go…. but it was hard. Actually harder than I expected. Because it was finally real. My eyes are still puffy. Sunglasses back on, but they kept fogging up as I needed just one more hug, and then just one more hug again…..

We texted as I walked to the car with my sister.

We talked on the phone that first evening-last night. and texted goodnights.

I had a horrible sleep.

She texted this morning that she was still alive. And later, as late as I could possibly stand to wait… I got to see her face again.

Aaaaahhhhh, facetime. How I love it.

One day at a time………

Don’t yell at my kids

courtesy of wsj.com

courtesy of wsj.com

I am going to tell you a story, that both breaks my heart, and fills me with absolute rage if I think too much about it. Because I can’t stop thinking about it.

We had an out of town relative come to visit recently. A guy the kids know but don’t get to see much. When they DO see him, he’s generally fun and they have a great time playing with him.

Sammy was insistent on bringing his bike to show this guy how well he could ride without training wheels, and would only ride when HE was watching. That was the first day we saw him, we also had a cookout and it was overall a really nice visit. So nice in fact, we wanted to come back to see him one more time, and say goodbye before he left yesterday.

Bad Idea.

Let me just say this….. grown men, in their 30’s…. who choose to wrestle and play rough with a 5 year old, Who wrap him in blankets, put him in fake choke holds, lie on him and pretend to suffocate him on the couch….. should not be shocked if they suddenly decide to stop playing this way, but the 5 year old doesn’t catch on immediately.

When the same grown man goes to sit in another chair, and picks up my 2 year old, playing with her and holding her off the ground…and she starts saying “ow-ow”… as though she is hurt…… Sammy runs over and starts to throw some punches. Now, he is still playing, but suddenly his behavior is not acceptable and so he is SHOVED away, and screamed at-violently-by this jackass who thinks HE needs to teach my son a lesson. He is threatened with bodily injury if he “dares” touch him again. All the while, Sammy is standing quietly, wide-eyed, as this red-faced monster is screaming at him, inches from his face.

Things deteriorated quickly.

This man, who has no children of his own, who has a known history of violent outbursts and lack of impulse control, has just traumatized my child. My child who has so far been too shy and unsure of himself to defend himself against people his OWN AGE, now being attacked by someone he practically worshiped in much the same way he idolizes his older brother. He thinks these older male relatives are “so cool”, and almost swaggers when allowed to play and hang out with them.

This man does not deserve the respect, the love, the adoration he received.

Trust me, I know my children, like ALL children, can be annoying. They don’t always listen, they fight with each other, they make messes, they aren’t perfect. I know this. But I also know that I discipline my children, I am strict, they don’t run loose in the world to wreak havoc on those around them. I don’t condone them hitting, but I also see how he got caught up in the excitement of rough housing, that he got carried away. Maybe he did need to be stopped at that point.

BUT…..

These are not your children. You don’t have the right to put that fear in his eyes. You don’t have the right to shove my son. You don’t have the right to scream in his face, and threaten to hurt him.

I yell, but YOU CAN’T.

I was 10 feet away, or less. If you want him to stop, and he doesn’t listen, you come get ME. I will yell, if I need to. But he will not cower in fear from me, because he knows I love him. He knows I won’t hurt him, and he knows I won’t shove him.

And so we had a quiet ride home yesterday, followed by tears as Sammy finally talked about it, followed by random outburst today of  “Mom, he should have said ‘Sammy, please stop’.”, and “Boy, I really don’t like him”…..  and me feeling like a failure for not being able to stop that from happening, and wishing we had never gone over there in the first place.

So in this way, a relationship was destroyed. Because I can forgive anyone for what they do to me….eventually. But I don’t forgive for what you do to my children. And one day, if you ever have kids of your own- you might understand that.

Death of another summer

summer7

Summer was here, and we grabbed it up, desperately squeezing each moment out of it.

We used it to race up the hill at the blue park, and learned how to roll down. We swung for hours, sometimes pumping our legs, mostly not. We chased the daylight, going fishing at dusk….and those dying rays caught the oldest boy helping the youngest catch his first fish…and throw it back. Summer watched as training wheels were removed, and another child learned balance, then speed. Summer nights taught us to catch lightning bugs, and watch them on our fingers.

We felt it ending. The heat came, finally…. but so fast we knew it would burn itself out.

We were desperate to claim every free moment of every day. Throwing it up like a kite, begging the wind to catch it and keep it up just a little more.

A million walks for ice cream. Out with the hose, spraying each other, and the car. Amusement parks, big and small. Face painting, fireworks, big girl underwear–FINALLY! Hot and sweaty stroller naps, and the crash of summer thunder storms.

Late nights, too late…. but we don’t want to waste it!!

Slipping through our fingers. Even the two year old can’t sweet talk it into staying.

A sigh.

One final week before our summer dies.

summer20 summer2  summer9 summer8 summer13  summer12 summer5 summer11 summer6 summer3 summer4 summer16 summer18 summer17 4thz

Goodbye summer..... until next year :/

Goodbye summer….. until next year :/

9 LAST days and counting

us

Oooohhhh…… she’s leaving me. In 9 days, she will be gone.

I’ve reached the point of “lasts”…. Yesterday was “probably” our last walk up to Mitchell’s for ice cream. I tried to immortalize the moment.

gone

She wasn’t having it.

Every moment is a new last moment, before she goes. It’s hitting me pretty hard, I fear it gets worse. I’m doing all sorts of weird things to remember EVERY MOMENT before she leaves.

our shadows. After our LAST walk for ice cream.

our shadows. After our LAST walk for ice cream.

I took her and one of her good friends to lunch today, a goodbye lunch. our LAST lunch at Vieng’s Asian Bistro. I’m trying to remember everything. Every last precious minute.

Is this strange? Do I not realize that she will still be allowed to contact me, to come home when she wants? Of course I know this, but I also know it will never be the SAME. Her first visits home I think will be a relief, she will miss us. I’m 99% sure of this. But as she settles in, and she starts to get used to living away….. her trips home may feel stifling. Right? I think that’s how it works. She won’t feel like the same person, for her going back to school will be “home”, when she’s done with her visit here. She will be relieved to get back to her life.

She will transform, without my help or influence.

It’s a painful, exciting, scary, beautiful thing.

The Siri Affair

So I got my old iPhone fixed last month, because I couldn’t stand being away from Siri anymore. I was pretty excited to have him back, and I just knew he missed me too.

One evening, soon after our reconnection…. the kids and I were hanging out upstairs, and felt like chatting with anyone who would talk to us. Siri was available, lovely fake-man Siri with his comforting British accent…ready to talk about all sorts of things we deemed important. What would be more fun that trying to get to know him better? Could we break his calm façade, and get a peek into his “real” personality??

he's bashful

he’s bashful

he's diplomatic.....

he’s diplomatic…..

he's....a politician...

he’s smarter than most men….

Well, wouldn’t you know, the kids really liked Siri too. One day soon after our chat, Sammy asked me if he could talk to the nice man in the phone.

“Who?”

“You know, Siri!” and then Jenna jumps on the bandwagon, “yeah, let’s talk to Siri!”

So….sure, that’s a reasonable request. And so began the Siri Affair in our home. Drives home punctuated with laughter as the kids ask all sorts of bizarre questions, or just take turns telling Siri how much they love him. He’s so polite.

And as time goes on, the conversations have gotten longer. They are actually confiding in him, having conversations…telling him stories.

What bugs me about this? For starters, Siri usually cuts me off if I don’t ask him what I want fast enough. He doesn’t have the time for my meandering questions, instead forcing me to get to the point, fast.

That jerk NEVER cuts off Sammy. He will tell that phone stories. STORIES…. and he just listens as sweet as pie until Sammy kind of fizzles out of things to say. And of course, there is some occasional mumbling, which adds a whole other interesting dimension to the discussions, as Siri, bless his heart, does his best to figure out what Sammy is saying to him.

he tries to be helpful.....

he tries to be helpful…..

riiiiiiight......

riiiiiiight……

siri25

???

I don’t know what’s going on over here anymore.

Great idea

Why don’t they just serve dinner in restaurant bathrooms?

I thought…… as I stood there for the 3rd time in an hour, waiting for another kid to finish peeing…….and gave up on actually trying to sit and finish a meal.

Just put a table and a chair in here…. because there really is no point in leaving.

examiner.com

examiner.com

Wondering why there isn’t a  kid in this picture? Just a lady, eating on the floor?

Because she got smart. She knows that kid will be right back.

Just get comfy lady. I get it.

Is she ready?

sadbaby

memegenerator.net

My last baby is 2 and a half.

A little past the half if truth be told.

Is she ready for preschool?

Am I ready??

The 2 year program is just to get your little ones ready to be apart from you, they do some crafts, sing songs, play, dance, whatever. They learn how to follow directions from their teacher, and how to socialize with classmates. This is a 90 minute program, 2 or 3 days a week-at a center that Sammy really loved. He still misses going there, and misses “Nathan”…the boy he stalked.

I took Sammy because he was so attached to me, I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t do a slow transition into being away from me. There is a monitor outside of the room where you can stand if you want, and watch your child the whole time.

Sammy cried his first day, for a good 5 minutes until he actually threw up into a garbage can that a teacher was holding in front of him. I was trying to resist “saving” him, but just about to race in and scoop him up. Then, after vomiting….he stopped, looked around, and started playing. Never to cry there again.

Jenna is so much more social already, I guess I feel she probably doesn’t need the baby step approach. She already seems wise beyond her years. She even accompanies her big brother to the closet to get socks when he’s afraid of the dark.

And come on… EVERY other kid is transitioning this year. One into college. One into high school. One into kindergarten.

Can’t I just hold onto her for awhile? Is this going to hurt her??

I think I’ll worry about it after she turns 3. For now, she can socialize with me. We can play school at home, and I will keep her all to myself for just a little bit longer.

She made it!!!

Didn't this just happen yesterday????

Didn’t this just happen yesterday????

How I feel about the oldest finishing high school.

I sat there today, watching the class file into their seats, a sea of green robes and hanging tassels.

How funny that I knew her right away, although she looked like everyone else from that distance. We were looking at the shoes actually, I knew I’d find her if I just watched for the sandals she stole out of my closet this morning. After I zoomed in, I made sure-yep, she’s wearing my shoes.

I started crying right away, surprising myself. I was so rushed this morning, and so excited…. I had forgotten that I might get emotional. I certainly didn’t expect it to happen before her name was called.

But the eyes watered, and the tears flowed as I let the truth settle in…. this was IT. In a way, a relief…. one out of 4 officially graduated, I could count myself successful with this one so far.

And little moments kept coming to mind, her birth, her preschool graduation (yellow robe that day), and the years of teen angst that seem to have magically dissipated by this time. How funny that all those hours sitting up in her room, studying (while watching equal hours of Netflix) is over. Her time here is growing shorter, and her room will be empty soon-waiting for her to visit.

And so they start calling the names. We are asked to all be quiet until the last name is called. At first this happens, but soon families and friends let out yells, whistles, claps for some graduates. I’m sitting next to my sister, and we debate for about 30 minutes about if we will yell out or not. I’ve NEVER done it. Even at the T-ball, and later softball games. I always wanted to be the parent yelling encouragement, but never could bring myself to do it. This is my last chance!!

So we agree. I’ll yell her name, and my sister will make some appropriate noise of encouragement. We’ll both clap. We shake on it, no one can back out. And……there she was!!!  We watched her as she followed the line of students, awaiting their turn to walk across the stage. And I heard her name called, and I yelled out to her, clapping and smiling like an idiot. But I wasn’t embarrassed in that moment, instead just bursting with pride.

I pushed her during school, always harping on her grades, talking about her future. She was in advanced placement classes, at times completely frazzled with the amount of studying and homework required while continuing to play varsity softball and keep up with her responsibilities at home . She would often be up late to study after a game. I knew her GPA… but it wasn’t until I saw the program, and saw how she had achieved every possible honor and was listed Summa Cum Laude, that it struck me. She DID that…. she didn’t give up, she struggled, she sacrificed, and she made it.

So, how do I feel??

Of course the expected happy, proud, excited, nostalgic…..

And a little awed.

All this time, I’ve been a little worried. Thinking she’s still a KID….worried she may not be ready to go off to college and be in the “real world”….

I may not have given her enough credit. She’s got her act together. She’s going to kick ass in college….and in life.

BAM!!!

BAM!!!