So You Think You Can Dance, Dorkfish?

Lately, I've been working on my fat ass girly figure since I can no longer blame the extra twenty twenty pounds I've been carrying around as 'baby weight'. The 'baby' is over three years old.

Ahem.

So I tried on a pair of pants this morning that I've been hoarding in my closet for a few months (years) and I modeled them for two of my neighbors who insisted not only did the fit well, they made my butt look "AH Mazing!" (Exact words there, people.) They did add that a nice 'flowing shirt' would 'soften the waistline' which I think means 'hide your muffin top'.

When Steve got home, I squeezed slid back into them to show him my minor achievement. His reaction? A sly smirk and then, "Those neighbors aren't your friends."

But don't worry, I played dumb when he insisted that our gas bill was low because I had turned off the AC most of the month. I suggested he call my father (Mr. HVAC) for clarification.

Touche, Mr. Dorkfish.

Weekly Lessons LEARNED

1. When your grandmother comes to visit and is offering up little parental advice gems such as 'if you don't dry his hair, he's going to wake up with a cold after sleeping under that ceiling fan' and you choose to ignore them...the child will, in fact, have a fever the next day.

2. That fever? It's going to last for DAYS AND DAYS just so she can remind you every. single. day.

3. The purchase of a url* (www.raisingoutdoordogs.com) does not guarantee one is going to be smart enough to set it up on their own. However, having good support and wonderful friends who still like you even when you repeatedly say 'bad words' in front of their child, are truly priceless. (VDog, I owe you one next week!)

4. No matter how many times you attempt to explain to your grandmother that your not playing on the computer but are actually working on something (see number 3); she will insist you are avoiding your children on purpose.

5. Avoiding one's children on purpose is wrong.

6. If you choose to avoid your children on purpose, things happen:


7. Toothpaste will remove sharpie from hardwood floors.

8. Sunscreen will remove sharpie from skin.

9. Tears will remove sunscreen from eyes.

10. Your son will blame you for the burning pain in his eyes and when it all subsides and you tell him that it wasn't actually your fault his eyes hurt since you were just trying to help and that he should apologize, he will respond, "Momma, I'm sorry you had to hurt my eyes."

11. That makes you an ass.



*****
P.S. My blog's new url is www.raisingoutdoordogs.com. Please change your reader and tell your friends! ;)

He's going to be the death of me.

Me: "Bonus! Come put your pajamas on right now!"

Bonus: "Momma, I can't! I'm limping."

Me: "That's not limping, your dragging your foot."

Bonus: "Oh. Then how do you limp?"

*****

Bonus: "That boy who's daddy owns the brewery? He told me he didn't care about my daddy."

Me: "Really? That seems like an odd thing to say."

Bonus: "Yeah, but it's okay. I threw him in the dirt for it."

Me: "Dude! You can't throw some kid down for saying he doesn't care about your daddy!"

Bonus: "But daddy said I could."

Me:

Dorkfish: "I told him if anyone talked bad about his daddy to hit them."

Best part of this story? The kid he knocked down? HE'S MY NEW BOSS'S SON.

Nice...

Weekly Winners - Beach Edition

Little Diggers

Big Digger

Sandy Nose

Sandy Toes

Washed Ashore

Washed.....up ;)

*Now go get lost at Lotus's place and check out the other weekly winners! (Don't forget to tell her who sent you. Heh.)

Just another day to Bonus

Bonus survived his first day of kindergarten, but the rest of the week is still up in the air.

Here's the thing. You know how everyone warns you that 'the kid will be fine, you'll be crying', or 'he's going to be so excited and part of you will feel dead'...you know, helpful advice. What they left out was 'he's going to come home exhausted and be a jackass for the entire day, OH and next week...it will be worse'. I could have used that advice ahead of time, thankyouverymuch.

In my last post, I told you about his independence. He's always been like that.

First Day of Mother's Day Out

(Note the flower in his hand for his teacher...that one's going to be just fine.)

The first day of school was no different. He marched out the door with his backpack and lunch box, hopped in the car and chastised all of us for taking too much time.

He did let me snap a picture first though.

Even though it's a fake smile, I'll take it.

Dropping him off proved to be much more of a crush to his pride. I almost felt bad subjecting him to this sort of torture, but it's all for the blog, yo!

Deuce is sad because 'big bwudder' is 'weaving'.

(I should probably put up a pay pal link for Bonus's therapy. Afterall, it's because of you guys I force them to hold still for this.)

You know how it takes parents FOREVER to leave their kids on the first day? I was trying to slip the teacher $10 to take Deuce too. (Bonus was not amused.)

We are totally ruining this kid's 'street cred'.

(For the record, Deuce cried the whole way home and then carried Beaux's frog and pajamas around all day. That one's the softie...)


I gave in and let him ride the bus home. He was so excited that I think it would have been worth it even if he had gotten off on the wrong stop.


As soon as he got off the bus he said, "Momma, where's Deuce?"

And this is how I know that he will not only do well in kindergarten, but we will as well.


Is it Monday yet?

It's only a day away.

"Are you okay with Wednesday?" Jae asked with more compassion in her voice than I felt was warranted.

"If by 'okay' you are asking if I'm going to be skipping out of the school and whistling, then yes, I'm going to be okay, " I responded in all honesty.

Bonus has his first day of kindergarten tomorrow. He's five now, and will tell you that he's 'busy' when you want a kissie or 'too tired' when you ask for help with a task he used to love. Guilt still works during those moments, but it too will eventually loose it's effectiveness.

I've always been a mom who insists my boys become independent of me. Not in the 'get lost, mommy's busy' kind of way, but more in a 'no blood, no foul' style. I want them to know I am always here for them, but reliance on me for every single glass of water when HOLY HELL THERE IS A SPOUT ON THE DAMN DOOR ALREADY seems to make me a little stabby.

But tomorrow, Bonus will put his little backpack on, grab his lunch box and trot off to a new adventure. It is similar to his other trips to mother's day out and preschool in that he will feel the separation and meet new friends, but different in that the expectations are much more than he's ever experienced. He will no longer be a 'little boy getting to play' he will be learning to read, tell time, make choices on his own. He will be, in essence, a little man. Tomorrow he will get a glimpse into what the next 12 years will hold for him and hopefully an appreciation for the kind of learning that comes from books and the playground.

My little boy is growing up.

And I think I'm okay with that.

Last Week in Pictures

Motivation to do something with these other than leave them in a random folder on my laptop courtesy of Lotus.

Jack of all trades...seriously, who am I kidding?

Since giving birth to Bonus over five years ago, I have learned many things about myself.

• Being raised by a bachelor, I truly don't notice a messy house, extra newspapers laying around, funny smells in the fridge, etc. However, having lived as  a bachelor for many years, Dorkfish is determined to not repeat that. Living with me is a daily struggle for him, I'm sure.
• God gave me boys because I am eluded by the appreciation of most things feminine. (As I sit and type in Steve's boxer briefs and t-shirt with one leg thrown over the side of my chair.) Can you imagine if I actually had to fix someone's pony tail?!
• I have a complete identity crisis and am compelled to start projects that are always over my head and beyond my ability; but I do them anyway. IE: Stained glass, sewing, painting, etc. My refusal to accept defeat has served me well, until we started potty training Deuce. Regression? I haz it!
• When it comes to all things technical and mechanical, I CAN DO IT! No joke, see first point. However, when it comes to code, rss feeds, url's, and all that fun stuff, I'm a dumbass. Complete and total moron.

The point of this list was to let you lovely readers know that while I attempt to transfer this smart-ass happy little blog over to Wordpress and then onto my REAL! LIVE! domain, there will be might be a few technical difficulties.

Because apparently my brain shuts down and the mere mention of CODE.