More Thoughts From The Beast

Caleb received an unsolicited 'pep-talk' from The Beast. It went something like this.

Caleb: "Mom. I am hideous. Why did you make me brush my hair? It's hideous now. (hideous, is Caleb's new favorite word to use when describing his dreaded hair)
Me: "Caleb, your hair is fine. I know you don't believe me, but someday you will like your hair. I love your hair." (Caleb's hair is the best shade of red and curly. Someday. Chicks will dig-it.)
Enter The Beast.
She sizes Caleb up from head-to-toe. I am waiting for some nice words, because as much as she is a stinker, she loves to dole out compliments.
Beast: "Caleb, we think you are handsome on the inside and that's what really counts."
Me: Suppressing laughter at the look on Caleb's face as a result of his sister's 'pep-talk'



This is Caleb and Stella during a moment when they were getting along. I never imagined that two kids could butt-heads as hard as these two often do. I love that she is wearing her pink tutu and he is wearing his baseball shirt in this picture. They are so different and yet so much alike.

Sinking

I feel like I am sinking this week. Everywhere I look there is something calling, no shouting, to be taken care of.
I started babysitting again, after a few glorious months off, and I am finding it hard to get back in the groove of having a 2.5yr old around the house. He got the boot from his last sitter for being too 'active'. I am starting to feel her pain. He has some things going on that are all too familiar, speech delays, sensory processing disorders, so I know I will stick it out with him. The underdogs need love too.
My freakin' mop, even once forcefully assembled by the hubby, is still not working.
I dread the phone call to the company. I am going to try the super-nice approach first. We will see how far that gets me.
Miles is still not wanting to go to school. I don't know what is going on with him. What I wouldn't give for a peek into his mind. Today it doesn't feel fair. Today, no fooling around. I need to be able to talk with my son. Today, I am struggling.
Miles just qualified for a level 1 medicaid waiver. It is supposed to be better than the family directed resources we were receiving, but so far it has been a lot of dead ends. None of our current therapists or doctors accept medicaid.
We do have a wonderful team of teachers who are becoming certified medicaid providers so that they can start tutoring Miles at home. I am hoping to keep him nearly full-time this summer, or at least a few days a week. I think it will be so important that he not loose any of the skills he learned this year if he is to be successful next year.
I am going to take today, one thing at a time. I need to accomplish something, or seriously, I might sink.
I read about Olivia today in Jodie's blog. She touched my heart. How could she not. See for yourself, and say a prayer.

I'm not stupid. Just weak.

In November, a surprise landed on my doorstep. An H2O mop. Like the kind you see on t.v.. I had drooled over this mop for months. My Dad, over-indulgent as ever, bought it for me.
I loved it. It worked great. On the dreaded, but tolerated because we are poor, linoleum. On the carpet, stains came up like magic. Magic, people. Seriously. My kids could eat off the floor without me wondering what disease they would contract.
Then, it died. No heat. No steam. No magic. Damn.
I called the company and explained the situation. They said it sounded like the boiler died. Fine, whatever, just send me a new one. Need. Mop. Now.
I was too excited at the prospect of getting my mop back in working order to argue about the fact that I had to pay over $13 for a product that is under warranty. Why should I have to pay shipping and handling for your broken product? In an effort to be nice and maybe expedite the shipping of the new 'body' for my mop I let it go.
Monday, my new mop 'body' arrived. Yesterday the pup ate a marker and in the process turned the carpet red. Later he threw up red banana peels.
Definitely time for the magic mop.
I started taking apart the old mop so that I could attach the new body to the old handle and mop head. Much to my frustration the water tank would NOT fit on the new body.
I rarely loose it. I mean really loose it. After red carpet, red pup and red vomit and a magic mop that would NOT fit together. I lost it.
I called the company again. I was quickly in touch with a costumer service lady. She assured me that the water tanks were interchangeable. I assured her they were not. We went back and forth like this for an uncomfortable amount of time.
I finally said, "Look, I am not STUPID. I can attach a water tank to a mop. I can attach it to the old mop just fine. It will not fit on the new mop."(I was repeating this action, as if she could some how see me proving my point)
At this point she asked me to "Please Hold."
She came back and said that her supervisor said that she could send out a new tank. She added, "The tanks are interchangeable though."
I swear, I tried to shove the tank through the phone and up her nose. It wouldn't fit.
On my way home from the dentist last night, I called the hubby to say I was on my way. He said he had assembled my mop for me. ( I had not told him about my phone call)
In my defense, it was really hard for him to get the tank on. He had to force it. I still say, "Interchangeable, my ass."

Smelly Cat

Someone powdered the cat.
She smelled really good. She doesn't typically stink, but she doesn't always smell like Victoria's Secret 'heavenly' powder either.
Curious about who felt the need to gussy up the cat, I questioned the most likely offenders. The short ones.
Caleb claimed innocence, but thought it was funny.
Stella was also innocent. This time. She did wondered why Myrtle was allowed to use the powder that she herself had been told to get permission to use.
Miles. By process of elimination.
Unless. Is my husband is so discouraged that I never use the powder that he has resorted to this. Powdering the cat?
I asked Miles first. He said, "No Mom."
Then, as I walked away, I heard..."Mmmm, Myrtle smells good."
Nice. Since no harm had been done, and the cat did smell good, I let him off with a warning.

In other pet news, the brown and white puppy, is now the RED, white and brown puppy. He ate a marker. The carpet is red. The dog is red. All morning I had to reassure the kids that the dog was not bleeding. Yet. UGH.

Also, I must share that I am forcing myself to wear jeans everyday. It is much harder to fool yourself into thinking that you are comfortable with your weight, when you are uncomfortable in your jeans.

I know I am the Mother of Boys Because..

*The smell of public restrooms makes me feel right at home.
*I find myself allowing a bearded dragon to take a nice warm shower several days a week.
*Food that once fed five now barely feeds two.
*I have learned the hard way to ALWAYS check pants pockets before washing. (oh how I loathe cargo pants)
*The sight of dried blood found randomly around the house no longer shocks me.
*Barbie would never willingly hang-out with a bunch of Ninja Turtles and army men. Clearly she is being held against her will.
*Underwear, in a pinch, can and will double as toilet paper.
*I am no longer shocked that people enjoying wrestling one another 24/7.
*I am fairly sure I now hold a degree in Structural Engineering, based on how many lego cities and Bionicles I have built.
*I now know that anything can be made into a weapon.
*I am used to hearing sentences that begin with "Does this hurt?" and "What does this smell like?"
*I know the Cub Scout promise.
*Around here, even hop-scotch is a contact sport.




This is Tonks. He likes his showers very warm and steamy. For all the other 'Potter' fans out there, Tonks was originally thought to be a girl. Hence the name.

Pretending to be Kitties

Stella and Miles are fascinated with Myrtle's ability to sit in the window sill or perch on the arm of the couch. Our only pet before the kitty and the pup was a big dog. He wasn't perching on anything. They like to pretend to be kitties.


On this day I came downstairs to find the bunch watching their cartoons like this. I thought it was funny.

The Beast

A conversation between myself and The Beast (Stella)
Me: "Beast, this basement is a mess. I think I'll clean it up."
Beast: "Okay Mom. I will help you. I am your super helper. Maybe I will get a star. I won't ask though, because I am not supposed to ask. Right? Will I get one?"
M: "Well, you can help. I can't guarantee a star. You're right about not asking. Sometimes we help each other just to be nice. This isn't really my mess, but I'll clean it because I want to be nice." (also, I might shit an egg-roll if I step on one more freakin lego)
B: "I'll help. I can't carry blankets though, or fold blankets. (from the fort making) I also really can't pick up anything right now. My arms are tired. Really tired. Feel them."
M: "Uh-huh.It's up to you."
B: "I will talk-it to you while you clean. I talk-it good. (oh, no shit. It's getting you to shut-it that's the problem) I will talk-it to you, so you are not sad."
M:"I'm not sad. Thanks though."
B:"Actually, I really can't even talk-it to you right now." (Yay!) I think I will just play Polly Pockets."
M:"Cool. Make sure you pick-up when you're done. Since I just cleaned up."
B:"I was hoping you would still be nice, and just do it for me."

Good help is hard to find these days.