Tuesday, February 28, 2012

And the flashbacks continue...

Time: 2009-ish
Place: Virginia

Kids: Creeping up on 2nd grade
Challenge: Anyone smell smoke? Because I don't.

I have two very sneaky, adventurous kids. That being said, it's no wonder they often find themselves in less than desirable situations. And that's less than desirable for ME. For them it's practically a party with an open bar.

I can't really recall all the details of this particular "I'm-going-to-kill-them" incident so I'll start with the good stuff....me coming down the stairs to find a light layer of what looked like flour on the dining room table, the kitchen counters and all the appliances. At first? "those little shits got into the flour". Unfortunately that wasn't the case.

I continued down the steps of the basement, where the kids had been playing, only to find they had unloaded an entire chemical fire extinguisher into the air. The dust kind, not the foam kind. So instead of having a foam party, we had basement air thickened with a cloud of fine chemical dust. And it was EVERYWHERE.

Insert rant full of expletives here ________.

Of course the kids thought this was just the greatest thing ever. What kid wouldn't want a house filled with dust? I was thinking "how long before the dust kills us all?"

Enter my texts to Megan...her Dad is a retired firefighter so she instantly became my expert.

After a few jeers and giggles via text, Megan consulted her Dad and apparently there really isn't anything in the dust that can kill us. But we "shouldn't breathe it in". A little difficult to do considering it was in every square inch of air space in the house. Oh, and it doesn't vacuum up either, just in case you have this little problem in your house. It stuck like glue to the bookshelf and all the books in it, the TV, the Wii, the carpet, and everything in that basement that took up space.
I wanted to kill the kids since I knew the dust wouldn't take care of that for me.

After several hours plowing through 3 containers of Clorox disinfecting wipes with a dish towel tied around my face, I could consider allowing others to see the disaster that had once been a decent room. Maybe we'll all have asthma.

More than 2 years later I occasionally see small clouds of dust when I pull books from the bookshelf. I still haven't replaced the fire extinguisher.
I think I'm better off taking my chances with an actual fire.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Caterpillars should be dry-cleaned

I've been told, in no uncertain terms, that I need to get going on the blog posts, so here's yet another installment in the Flashback Series.....there are so many....

Time: 2007-ish
Place: Virginia
Kids: Kindergarten
Challenge: Not being completely grossed out

For some reason, every Spring, the boys seem to find themselves in insane caterpillar catching mode. It drives me nuts. No matter how many times I tell them that caterpillars cannot be kept as pets, they still come home with the damn things. Some of them named. And these aren't the pretty butterfly caterpillars, these are the nasty silkworms that destroy your trees. But the kids don't care, they keep coming home with them. So every year we have named caterpillars living on the porch.

Now that they're a bit older they tend to listen to me when I tell them they absolutely CANNOT bring those things into my house. But it wasn't always this way....

This all started when the boys were in kindergarten. I would go to pick them up from daycare after work and find them lying on the playground surrounded by fuzzy caterpillars, and they would scream when I insisted they leave them there so we could go home. The daycare staff would just shrug their shoulders and offer to give the kids little plastic cups so they could take them home. NO THANKS. It appeared all the kids were fascinated with these inconvenient creepy crawlies.

So as the Spring wore on, and I was in my usual busy-as-hell mode, I found myself leaving all the laundry for the weekend. HUGE mistake.

Nothing says vomit like pulling all the wet laundry from the washing machine only to have 3 or 4 very clean caterpillars come flying out and land in the detergent dispenser. Those two little shits had been stuffing them in their pockets because I refused to let them bring any home.

What followed was a series of screeches and unintelligible rants about how the kids never listen to me and that they will never ever ever touch those gross caterpillars again and they will CERTAINLY not be bringing them into the house via little tiny pockets!

Caterpillars shrink when they get wet, by the way. It's super gross.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Watch cartoons like a normal kid!

For reasons I am completely unable to articulate, my 10 year old boys have taken a liking to watching shows involving History, our Nation's Armed Forces, and American law enforcement. At first I thought this was good, thinking "hey, my kids are smart enough to care about this stuff".

But what it really equates to is them knowing everything there is to know about Hitler, what bombs can do the most damage, and which gangs are the worst. And they waste no time telling everyone who will listen allllll about it.
They're downstairs watching Cops right now.

What happened to Cartoon Network? I'd almost rather have them watching Family Guy than be able to tell me that the Hilter impersonator in the movie Captain America "doesn't have the right mustache".

I have to applaud their willingness to learn everything they can about the world, where we've been and where we are now, but I was almost happier when they spent every waking moment watching iCarly.

Am I raising nerds who plan to join the local police some day? Or budding criminals who will become intimately familiar with the same local police?

I know what some will say (you know who you are), but for now I'll have to concentrate on making sure they don't shoot each others' eyes out with their Nerf guns...and clean boogers off the shower wall.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

And why are boogers on the shower wall???

I would like to trade two healthy, relatively well adjusted, slightly hyperactive, definitely disgusting 10-year-old boys for clean children....Anyone up for a trade??

I don't understand it. I have the pleasure of sharing a bathroom with these disgusting creatures and the other day I found BOOGERS on the tile in the shower. Grossssssssss. Did it just seem like a really convenient place to leave them?? I think I know who the perp is, I just can't prove it. All boogers look alike in this house and the kids will just point the finger at each other like they did when I found the "F**K YOU" on the bathroom mirror. No need for mafia style interrogations when it comes to boogers. Tis a far lesser offense. I'll save my energy.

I'm know full well that this will be the least of my concerns before long (according to my male friends) so to you pervs, I say, for now I will gladly bitch about the boogers on the walls.
Until then....denial, and snot.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The kitchen floor is spicy enough, thank you

Let the Flashback Series continue! You need to understand the trouble I've seen....

Time: Summer 2005
Place: Salt Lake City, Utah
Kids: Age 3 1/2
Challenge: Never let 'em catch you sleeping

The thermometer in the car read 109 degrees. We were dying. It was a Friday evening and I had just picked the kids up from daycare. Once home, Clifford wandered over to the refrigerator to grab whatever he could reach when he turned to look at me and let out a simple "no light". WHAT?? Ugh. The power had gone out.

Clearly the neighborhood electricity couldn't handle all the people desperately trying to cool themselves off and just gave up. And it must have happened right before we got home, because the house was still cool.

I ran around closing all the blinds in the house so the sun wouldn't continue to heat it up, and promptly called the power company to report the outage. They were very clear about my needing to get myself and the kids out of the house so we don't die. "Go see a movie" the representative suggested. Really? I would rather put forks in my eyes than take 2 3-year-olds to a movie theater. No thanks.

I called my brother instead and we headed over there to sit in the shade of all his trees. It was a perfect idea.

Fast forward to MIDNIGHT and they still hadn't restored the power. "To hell with it, we're going home".

Of course, the house was stifling and the kids wouldn't dare sleep a room away with no lights, so they piled into my bed, which made things so much cooler for me. I spent the entire night getting kicked in the ribs and sweating my ass off. They slept like babies, of course.

7AM the power comes back on. AMEN. The house cooled down and all was well. Except for me who didn't get any sleep and was about to drop.

"Ten minutes, that's all I need, the kids are quietly watching Spongebob....ten minutes". So I took my measly ten minute nap.


I awoke to that horrible, deafening silence to find both kids in nothing but diapers sitting on the kitchen counter SEASONING the kitchen floor. Every spice I had sitting on the back of the stove, to include the can of Olive Oil Pam, had been unloaded onto the floor, which was marble. You ever tried to walk on a marble floor with oil on it? It's like ice skating.

Of course I started crying...and cursing. I skated over to the kids, snatched them off the counter and wiped them down. Then spent the next 2 hours mopping and re-mopping my oily marble floor. I should have taken pictures so I could yell at them later in life when they probably would have cared.  But I was too insane by that point...and had the cleanest marble kitchen floor in the neighborhood.

Moral? Don't turn your back on a 3-year-old. They'll jack up your kitchen.