Who Peed on the Cat?

Today, my sister was babysitting our four year old nephew, and she noticed him outside peeing on the new kittens they just got for their girls. When asked why he would do such a thing, he said, "They wanted to play in the water." And here's the thing -- he was serious. Poor kid was just helping a kitty out and ended up sitting in a corner. Being kind never pays off, is my point. And now the kitties have no sprinkler anymore. This is a tragic story, and I'm sorry to make you read it.

To lighten the mood, some Facebook statuses because my brain beat me to sleep again and I have nothing to write:

Dalton: "Did you say ribbit?" Me: "No." Dalton: "Well...I heard a ribbit and it came from you."

Emma, while holding a stick to her nose: "I'm a neuroticus!" (meaning rhinoceros)

OK, who parked a Mack truck on my face while I was asleep?

Hello, limit. Now that I've reached you, you may want to stand down -- you don't want to meet my Backup.

Thoughts on working out from Ashers: "Isn't 'ripped' the same as 'rippled?'"

...what if something happens and I need to talk about it while being simultaneously anti-social?!?!

Stupid rooster.

And...that's pretty much all I have for tonight, folks. Sorry about the lame use of Facebook, but at least I wrote all of that, even if it was spread out over the last twelve months and didn't make any sense...writing  is the point, right?

The One Where I Make Art

Madilynn has never been the "graceful" one. When she was about three, she was sitting in an arm chair, all the way back at the back...like, her feet didn't even come to the end of the seat she was so far into that chair. I heard "THWACK-SPLAT!" she started screaming. She had fallen - forcefully - out of a chair that she was practically buried in. As in, this was an impossible thing to do, yet she managed to do it and also be injured. It was actually quite spectacular.

We were getting into the truck this evening and the kids were standing in the parking lot arguing about who got to sit where. I've told them a thousand times to get in, shut the door, THEN argue. But they don't listen. So I was screaming at them to follow the Seat Fighting Rules and Madi finally climbed in and started to shut the door. But she fell out. Right in front of an entire parking lot of parents exiting the same kids' movie we had just left, who were already staring at us because of all the screaming.

Only she didn't fall out in a regular way. Which, really? IS there a regular way to fall out of a parked car???
But if there were, I'm picturing something like this:

 Stop laughing...this is serious art, yo. And her head is totally shaped like that due to the fact that she also has no face. And Ninja Truck does too look like a bulldog/beetle mix.

In reality, the fall was more along these lines:

 

She totally DID TOO grow a face and hair on the way down! Shut UP! She wasn't hurt, but lay spattered on the concrete for dramatic effect, screaming, while the other kids all piled back out of the car to see if she was ok...while the other parents looked uncertain as to whether they should shuffle their kids out of sight or step in and yell at me for something. It was awesome. Really...mind=blown. She really was ok, and she really is a lot prettier in person, but she won't be for long if she can't figure out how to sit without falling violently into the ground.

Stop laughing at my pictures, yo...

Summer Update

Interestingly (not really), all the spare time we've had over the summer break has made me way too busy to write. My days are very full of figuring out where my kids are and wondering how many days in a row it's ok to have potato chips for breakfast before I have to go to the store.

It's also really hot here. I'm thinking of taking up an addiction in order to spend the rest of the summer in rehab...they have air conditioners there, right?

Dalton was telling me about a trip to Walmart with his dad...

     Dalton: We went to Walmart, and there was this, like, four year old girl walking around in a bookini.

     Me: Really?

     Dalton: Yeah, I mean, how stupid? She was four!  FOUR! In a BOOKINI. What is wrong with people?

He is entirely too judgmental for someone who can't pronounce bikini properly.
One set of neighbors moved away while my kids were at their dad's this past weekend. Everyone, with the possible exception of Donovan, knew they were leaving and had already said their goodbyes.

Today, sitting on the porch, Donovan pointed to their house and said "The Emilies left." (That wasn't their name, but the name of their daughter.) I said, "Yeah, they moved, didn't they?" He made the saddest face and said, "Yeah....they're dead."

Also, I was sitting out on the steps the other night after the kids had gone to bed. Donovan opened the door and stepped outside. He didn't see me and proceeded to pee on the porch from the doorway. This explains his excellence in potty training -- it simply hasn't happened. Porches = cheaper than diapers, is my point.

And finally, I will be single someday, I will be single someday, I will be single someday. So far, I have agreed to give up half my own furniture, any and all child support, and both kidneys. Shiny-Haired Lawyer says I don't have to agree to all of that, so he's gonna file some papers to that effect. I don't really care at this point. Eventually, I'll be single, broke, sitting on half a couch, and connected to a dialysis machine, and THEN we're gonna party, yo! (Can you get one of those dialysis thingies into the club? I NEED TO KNOW, INTERWEBZ!)

Summer Time and the Livin's Easy....

This week has been a prime example of what I can accomplish when I don't have fourth grade homework to contend with. We have cleared out the entire house. The kids are down to two ammunition boxes for toys, a box of costumes, and a bookshelf. That means we have eliminated a total of eight other giant toy boxes, along with anything that was on the floor.

Donovan is finally out of diapers, which means no more buying diapers for me EVER. Or changing them.  Sorry, yo, I can't even babysit kids in diapers anymore.

This morning, when I was all ready to go, I couldn't find Dalton anywhere. Thirty minutes later, he comes walking up the drive, soaking wet from taking a forbidden dip in the neighbor's pool. I have never been so mad in my life. I scared the neighbors, my son, two cops, and the dude who works at the gas station with my death glare, but I didn't lay a hand on the kid, so they can DHS me all they want. That boy is in Trouble.
Then, Ninja Truck was an ass and ran over a stop stick on the highway today (that's my story and I'm stickin' to it). I thought the kids were dancing too much in the backseat and making us drive all over four lanes, but it turns out that pancake tires will cause that as well. Luckily, we were the only ones on that portion of the highway or we would have been in about six wrecks by the time I got the truck under control.

My dad and DUSTIN THE BRAVE (the famous brother-in-law, you know?) came and fixed my tire. Ashers picked up the kids since the AC still isn't working. I had to ride across the highway with my dad, who drives as if the entire world is on the road just to piss him off. We bought him a train horn for his last birthday, and he scares the snot out of people when they make him mad. It's actually kind of hilarious and cathartic. It's hard to stay mad when you can turn people into popcorn just by pressing a button.

We fixed the tire and put it back on. Nothing has exploded so I think it's all good now. My kids are mad at me because they didn't get to swim today, so they all get to sleep in the truck until they learn to appreciate the little things in life, like NOT DYING IN SIX CAR WRECKS.

Ninja Truck is in Trouble, too. First the AC and the not going, now the running over Bad Things at 75 mph...he's being a jerk. Maybe a little tequila in the radiator will calm him down a bit...throw a Xanax in the gas tank...air filter made of special brownies...

Ok, I'm half asleep. But seriously, my truck needs to CHILL.

Fast Like Slugs

Me: Ninja Truck, it's hot.

Ninja Truck: Yeah

Me: Can you do something about this?

Ninja Truck: AC is broken. Roll down the windows.

Me: But it's still hot. Especially when we're stuck in traffic.

NT: Sorry, yo.

Me: Let's fix the AC.

NT: Whatevs (he's really quite the linguist, no?)

_____________________________________________________________________

Me: There, you are now the proud recipient of of R-2938753984752 or whatever makes the AC work.

Ninja Truck: Yeah.

Me: So make it colder, bitch!

NT: Ok :::blows some non-hot air:::

Me: That's not cold.

NT: Gimme some more of that stuff.

Me: No. You're an addict. Just make it cold now.

NT: Can't.

Me: Fine...not-hot air is still better. Let's go.

NT: Nah.

Me: What? Go, dude...people are waiting.

NT: I'm fast like lightening. I'm still zero to sixty in 4.3.

Me: Minutes,  Ninja Truck, those are minutes. 4.3 minutes isn't a thing...it's just slow.

NT: Well, you get one or the other. Speed or not-hot air. Which would you like.

Me: Both. I require two things out of my vehicle -- going and coldness. I don't even ask you to retain oil like a normal truck. All I ask is that you go and that you make it not hot.

NT: Gimme some druuuuuuugs. I want some more of that R-92837429380295826092384502394683024957820349803582093482039850293458

Me: Fine. Then will you go?

NT: Nope. But I'll do the whole not-hot thing until I need another fix. Hey -- stop and grab me a couple quarts of oil on your way home, would ya?

Me: Are you serious? You have a problem.

NT: Just do it. Or I will sit in this driveway forever more.

Me: This is why I'm afraid of commitment, Ninja Truck.

NT: Just get me the oil and the drugs.

Hmph

Watching the kids at the funeral on Saturday really touched my heart. I won't mention their names, but they are the children of three sisters who grew up with our family. Reflecting on the conflict I have seen in our family and others over the last few years, I feel compelled to write an uppity holier-than-thou piece. Please feel free to disregard it and wait until tomorrow's post on a talk I had with Ninja Truck this afternoon.

Ten Reasons NOT to Write Off Family


1. Parents - When you are twenty, you are so much smarter than when you were sixteen. Multiply that by a thousand and see how much you learn in your twenties. You are basically an idiot until you are thirty, is my point. Possibly later, although I am pretty much a genius at this point, so thirty is the magic age as far as I'm concerned. Your parents have made mistakes. You are going to kick their asses at mistake-making with your own kids, so get off your high-horse and call your mama. You're going to need her when you're up at 3am with a feverish baby, nine months pregnant while your husband is out of town. Your dad is the only one who is going to forget how dumb you are the first time you do something smart, too. So keep him around -- he may be your last remaining cheerleader.

2. Grandparents - Your grandparents have spent their lives preparing the world for your precious little butt to get here. Don't screw it up for them.

3. Sisters - One day, you're going to cry over something you have no desire to talk to your parents about. That is what sisters are for. One day, you're going to do something so stupid you can never talk about it again. Sisters will forget it. One day, you're going to be holding the hand of your mother or father as they die. Your sister will take your place when you have to leave the room.

4. Brothers - One day, you're going to realize that you're old and your life sucks and you never did have enough fun. Your brother is going to buy you beer and pretend like you're both twenty until you realize that you don't want to be that young again anyway. One day, your boyfriend/husband is going to piss you off. Your brother is the reason he won't do it again. One day, you're going to find yourself old and alone, rattling around in a big old house you can't take care of. Your brother is going to help you get things working again.

5. Aunts - Aunts love you as much as your mama, but don't get nearly as mad. They are the voice of reason we all need, but can't always hear from our own mothers. And they are the best to laugh with.

6. Uncles - Uncles are for trouble. Getting into it or out of it, either one. And they will tell you all the dirt on your mom and dad.

7. Cousins - This is what I learned this week, watching the injured little girl who didn't look up all day. Her cousins brought her cookies and they had "tea". Then each cousin grabbed a handle on her wheelchair and sped her around until she was giggling. They took her to look at picture of her brothers, and she told them stories about each picture. They said "where do you want to go now?" and she pointed and they raced away. Cousins cross the line between family and friend. They are close enough to care, yet far enough to take your mind off of things.  Cousins are the friends God chose for you.

8. In general - Have you ever heard someone say, "Oh, I don't talk to my family because...blah blah blah...?" It sounds trashy and hateful, no matter what the reason.

9. If you can write off your family, you can write off ANYONE, and I don't trust that.

10. We aren't here forever, and we aren't all going to die of old age. Being "right" isn't worth telling someone you're sorry while you are standing over a headstone. Holding a grudge isn't worth spending your last breath in regret. Saving face isn't worth a lifetime of pretending to ignore a kindred spirit. Petty pride isn't worth withholding comfort in dark times. Anger is bad enough alone, but when it replaces love, you may as well lay down and give up, because you have chosen to be unhappy.

A final note: NONE of this applies to me. In my singular coolness, I have never made a mistake, my parents are insane, my cousins are assholes, and my aunts pinch cheeks. Unforgivable, the lot of them. But for the rest of you, be cool, yo.