Fun in the Sun -or else

It has come to my attention that there is less than one month left before school starts. When this discovery dawned on me this week, all I could think was, how could this have happened? How did two months of summer time fun slip past me without me noticing? I was supposed to have accrued all kinds of wonderful dreamy childhood memories for my kids by now. What are they supposed to tell my future grandchildren? Well kids, in the summer of 2008, we took two whole walks with the dog and got rained out at the zoo. Super.

You know that game on the Price is Right where the contestant gets 5 or 6 placards with prices on them and has like two minutes to match the prices with the right prizes? And the contestant always gets 2 or 3 right off the bat and then frantically tries to unscramble the other 3 prices before the time runs out? Well, that's me right now. I just looked up and saw I've got almost no time left to unscramble my schedule and enjoy the summer with my kids before its over.

So, yesterday I took a half-day off of work to take the kids to the waterpark and make some ding-darn memories of a lifetime. Well, you would have thought I asked my children (and nephew Jake) to join me at an all day insurance seminar. They immediately met my unbridled enthusiasm with moaning and groaning about it being tooooo hottttt and the water tooooo colddd and suggested that I check back with them another time. Emerson had an excuse, she had missed her nap, but the boys, well they were excuseless.

I quickly honed in to the fact that this entire conversation was taking place while they were glued to their Nintendo DS's. And having lived with these evil little devices for some time now, I have learned that when the boys are on the verge of breaking through to some new level or acquiring some sort of new evolved creature, the world as we know it stops. However, knowing this fact and caring about it are two different things. So, I ordered them to put the DS's away and pack it up because we were going have some serious, memory making fun whether they liked it or not. Of course, once we got there, they had a great time and I left satisfied that I could claim at least one really great day out with the kids this summer.

Undies Anyone?

My friend Anne requested contributions of embarrassing kid stories. As far as pure embarrasing goes, here's a nice Carson story:

Carson goes to a private Christian school. His 3-K teacher, Mrs. Lavell is pretty, sweet and conservative. The epitome of what every pre-school school teacher should be. One day, I was talking to her before class and Carson was still hanging onto me, trying to get my attention. I continued on in my conversation with Mrs. Lavell, not at all distracted by the fact that Carson had taken to running his hand up and down my leg. At one point, his hand goes from my ankle all the way up my skirted leg and then he stops. And right there in the middle of my conversation, he declares at the top of his lungs, "Momma, you aren't wearing any underwear!"

I tried to smile my most genteel , demure smile and replied, "Carson, honey, I am wearing underwear and you need to use your inside voice."

"No, Momma, I felt your bootie!" (Helllloo, did I not say inside voice.)

At this point, Mrs. Lavell is more than just a little bit interested to see how this plays out and other parents have begun to turn around to see what kind of tramp drops her pre-schooler off without donning undies.

I am now wishing that I knew some kind of magic sleeper ninja-hold that I could use on Carson to get him to stop talking. Short of that, I try to convince his teacher.

"Mrs. Lavell, I can assure you that I am wearing underwear. They are not a conventional type (ewww, I know, TMI, but what was I supposed to say?), but I would never leave the house without underwear. Promise." Big smile, and pray that she doesn't think I am a degenerate.

Mrs. Lavell seemed satisfied with that and quickly shooed Carson into class. With that I hustled my way on out of there and vowed to never wear a skirt again.

Emme Claire Domestic Terrorist

For those who do not have the privilege of knowing Emerson Claire Kosub, you are missing out. This kid is priceless. My friends at work routinely ask me to tell them the latest "Emme story". Here are the latest two:

1. A couple of weeks ago, I put my kids to bed and then went on to bed myself. Two and half hours later, I woke up to a bright light shining in my eyes. When my eyes finally adjusted, I saw Emme standing by my bedside wearing full Cinderella regalia, right down to the high heel shoes. She apparently had found a flashlight and decided to blind me/scare me half to death with it. When I asked her what in the world she was doing, she whispered, "I loot-en for cues." Translation, she was looking for clues. At midnight. In heels. Go figure.

2. Last weekend, I was painting the living room and mostly ignoring Emme. There being no furniture in the main rooms or accessible toys (remodeling the house), she was understandably bored. I was up on a ladder when I heard her saying, "It's okay, just lie down and be still, that's a good boy, just lie still and be good..." Out of an abundance of curiosity and caution, I got down to check it out. There she was, petting a sleepy Duncan, sweet talking him into a totally relaxed state of mind and ever-so-slowly easing his soft floppy ear into the stapler.

I cried out, "Emerson Claire what are you doing!?"

"Oh, I jus po-tin a ho in Duncan's ear."

"Well, that's going to hurt him, so stop it."

"Mommm, it jus one ittle ho."

That's right, according to her you can staple an innocent dog's ears so long as you keep it down to "one little hole".

Priceless.

1st Date

It's 6:40 in the afternoon and both of my kids are blessedly asleep. Sure, I'll pay for it later when they are still going strong at 11:00 p.m., but I have just enough time for a quick adorable Carson-story.

Carson had his first date, sorta. On Wednesday, Brookie-Cookie (the love of his life) needed a ride to tennis class. Enter Carson all googley-eyed and nervous. We turn on her street and he turns to me and I-kid-you-not, says,"I wonder just how beautiful Brooke is going to look when she walks through that door?" Couldn't you just die? Well, she looked just as cute as a button and smelled great too. According to her father, Brooke was in a similar tizzy and had doused her self in about a half gallon of strawberries and cream perfume. She had also wrote "Hello Carson" on her Magna-Doodle and put it next to the front door for him to see. They took a quick peek at her room (it was evidently a giant pink paradise) and off we went.

Carson practically killed himself trying to beat her to the car so that he could open her door for her. His over eagerness was such that I felt it necessary to caution him to wait until the car stopped moving before he went to open her door for her again once we got there. All went smoothly during the lesson and 45 minutes later their first big date was over.

Carson later said, "Mom, what do you wish for me?" And I answered my stock answer, "I just wish your wishes come true." He smiled and said, "Oh good, then you wish that I become an Army man and marry Brooke too." How cute is that???

Bad Hair Day

It happens once, maybe twice in a lifetime, if you’re lucky. You find that certain someone who knows you better than you know yourself. The one person in a million who truly listens and hears you completely. That one special individual who is everything that you ever wanted and more. And just like that, it can all be swept away.

Kim, my hairdresser has moved away. Evidently, her stupid husband got some dream job in Washington D.C. and she decided to go with him. I know, I know, I had three perfect years of great haircuts and fabulous highlights and not everyone can say that. But, I am now left adrift, hairdresser-less. And during what is probably the windiest summer on record for Wichita Falls.

Do you know that you have a greater chance of being killed by a terrorist that finding a competent hairdresser? Okay, I lifted that line from Sleepless in Seattle and I think it applies to finding true love, but whatever, same difference. The sentiment remains true and I can back it up.

I went to my hair salon today for a simple trim of my bangs. A simple enough job- or so you would think. They gave me some squeaky voiced child who had bedazzled every single piece of equipment she owned including her beautician’s license. She proceeded to butcher my bangs until they were unrecognizable as a natural extension of my head. When she was done and I had an opportunity to survey the wreckage, I realized that I had seen myself with this haircut once before. When I was four- and had to cut chunks of hair off after I had fallen asleep with gum in my mouth. I look like a cross of Ramona Quimby and a mange infested dog.

Blessedly, most of the office was gone by early afternoon and I did not have to face anybody with my stumpy, weird, so-not-blended (I specifically said blend them into the rest of my hair) bangs. I think I can manage the weekend with a pair of strategically placed sunglasses on top of my head, but after that, I just don’t know.

I guess it’s better to have had a great hairdresser and lost her ………

Love hurts

Carson is in love. Her name is Brooke and she sits next to him in class. A few months ago we were listening to his favorite song, “Hey there Delilah” and he let out this big dramatic sigh. And just as serious as he could be he said, “when I first heard this song, that when I knew- I was in love.”

Since that time he has continued to share the trials and tribulations of love with me. When he brought home a “23” on a homework page, he explained that he was trying to do his work, but Brooke was staring at him and he just couldn’t concentrate. He asked me sometime later, “Mom, have you ever felt this way, you know, in love?” I explained that yes, I have in fact, known love as evidenced by my um, marriage to his father. He kinda thought about that for a minute and I could see that he had decided that no; I had no idea what he was talking about.

Luckily, Brooke loves him too, Rosalie said. Rosalie also said that Brooke plans on kissing him on the playground. Once I heard that I decided that Carson and I needed to talk about appropriate behavior for 6 year olds. And I believe that I made it abundantly clear, that at no point, will anyone be kissing anybody anywhere. After much discussion, Carson decided that he’s fine with not kissing, but he thinks he still will take her to the prom. Since I've got about 10 years before that becomes a pressing concern, I decided to save any discussions regarding dating until later.

Can you imagine the self discipline that it takes to have these conversations with a straight face? I have always told him that he can tell me anything because I am his mom. And so I am immensely honored that he chooses to share these little secrets with me. And because he is so darn serious about it all, I am equally serious in my answers to his questions. But, inside, well inside, I am giggling my head off. It’s so stinking cute I want to just scoop him up and smother him with hugs and kisses. But instead, I solemnly nod my head and agree that love is indeed, complicated.

Dobie thinks it is all ridiculous and that I should just tell him he is too young to be in love. What he fails to see is that Carson’s tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve comes directly from Dobie himself. Carson is Dobie in miniature. And I am not about to stomp out in the son what I so love about the father. So for now, we will continue to help Carson navigate his way through the rough water of young love.

You know, it was not so long ago when all Carson wanted to do was marry me. And as wierd as that was, it was alot easier to deal with than all of this other stuff.

Happy Mother's Day!!

• Here's to my best Mother's Day ever! This year my sweet son had his grandma take him to the Dollar Tree to pick me out something "really special". Today, I am the proud owner of a ceramic grizzly bear cub wearing a red bow tie.
• 
  Even though Grandma had cautioned him that a bear cub might not exactly go with my home's decor, he insisted that I would absolutely love it. He was right; I love it. I love it because I will never forget the look on his face when he presented it to me. He simply bubbled over with joy, anticipation, and love. He wiggled and bounced the entire time I unwrapped it, just dying for the "big reveal".
  
  Of course, once the bear was unwrapped and sufficiently admired, Carson had to find the perfect place to display this amazing piece of artistry. So for now, my new bear friend sits atop of my kitchen window ledge, for all to see.
  
  As for Dobie, he got the ever so subtle hint that I wanted a certain necklace when I downloaded the page from catalog, circled the one that I wanted, wrote down the store that sold it and left it for him to find. To my great surprise, I got exactly what I wanted. Sure beats the alternative of him feigning a reason to go off alone, wandering the mall for hours with no idea of what to get, calling my sister for ideas and coming home with something totally random.
  
  So, Happy Mother's Day to all. I hope that someday you know the joy of receiving your own ceramic grizzly bear cub or a bottle of perfume that was last popular in the 80's or really tacky piece of costume jewelry. It reminds us that sometimes the most imperfect gifts can show us the total perfection that is a child's love.