Graysen

I was at the mall today with Gabe (the almost 5 yr old) and since he was good, I allowed him to play in the little play area, which I call the  E Coli Pit.

I'm sitting on the bench, half watching him, half checking out facebook on my phone.  This OBNOXIOUS mother is sitting next to me and this is what she sounds like, " Graysen, hi honey. Hi Graysen.  Pull up your pants, Graysen.  Good boy, Graysen, good boy! Ooooh, be careful Graysen, you scared me.  (Gasp) Graysen...are you ok, honey?  GRAYSEN...ARE YOU ALRIGHT, ARE YOU HURT??".   Ok, Graysen is about 5 and there is absolutely nothing in the E Coli pit that could possibly hurt him. It's padded, carpeted and everything is soft plastic.  She's the epitome of the hovering helicopter mom.  And you know how much I love the helicopter moms.  She was so annoying the way she was smothering him.

The little f-er kept following Gabe all over the place.  Usually that wouldn't bother Gabe, but this kid was hot on his trail for about 15 minutes and ya know....that could get old.  So, Gabe said, "how come you're following me"?  So, Graysen's mom gets all indignant, "Graysen, baby...come here and see mommy".   I continue to ignore Graysen and his loser mother.  Gabe comes over to me and tells me that he doesn't want that little boy following him anymore.  I explain that "Graysen" can play wherever he chooses and just to go play and be a nice boy.

 I look back down at my phone for 3 seconds and this is what I hear from Robo-Mom: "NOOOO, NOOOOO....GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HIM, THAT WASN'T NICE----YOU SAY YOU'RE SORRY NOW".  I refuse to look up because I don't want her to think I'm being nosy, when she leans over, (hysterically) and says to me in the most theatrical voice, "YOUR SON JUST GRABBED MY SON!!!"  It was said in the tone that someone would say, "YOUR BABY...HE'S ON THE ROOF AND IT LOOKS LIKE HE MIGHT JUMP".  I looked up at her and I was caught off guard.  I was totally thinking she was yelling at "Graysen" but it took a minute for it to sink in that she was screaming at Gabe.  So, I calmly called Gabe over and asked him what he did and he said, "I squeezed his arm because he wouldn't stop following me".  Now, with that said, I am never one to back down from disciplining my children.  You all know about the beatings, right?  I'm no stranger to punishment, so it's not like I'm one of those moms that's like, "now precious, put down the knife and untie mommmy". 

 I pat Gabe on the head and send him on his way and tell him to " go have fun".  I watch him walk away and that's when I noticed Graysen's mom following him through the little play area.  It seemed as if she was playing 'Following the Leader" with Graysen.  If Graysen jumped off of the 12 inch platform, mom jumped behind him, to ensure that he wouldn't get hurt (again, Graysen is approx. 5 years old----therefore perfectly capable of walking and not falling down).  She was man-handling him like a marionette.  I began this blog while I was sitting there.....it was just going to be about an obnoxious mother,  but it turned out to be much, much more. Yay for  me.  I always welcome new material. 

As I left the play area, Graysen's mom was glaring at me and I threw this comment in her general direction, "I just twittered about you", and scurried away.  I'm so proud of me-self.

I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that Graysen is an only child.  I'll also assume Graysen's dad left about 4 years and 11 mos. ago. 

Ooooh, I so badddd.

Reuniting Loved Ones

So, like have you seen those commercials for the reality show where the shady detective finds missing loved ones and reunites them with the nosy bitch who be looking for them?

Yeah.  So, at first I experienced warm fuzzies thinking of the boy my mother put up for adoption some 40 years ago.  (I don't know why, but I'm convinced that I have along lost brother.  No evidence, mind you.  Just a hunch.  For reals).

Then, after a short while. I begin to imagine all the people who have come and gone from my life and then I start to worry about any one of those people resurfacing.  Like, what if that guy from the show contacted me and led me on this big treasure hunt, all the while telling me about someone from my past just dying to get reacquainted with me.  It would be someone who has never given up looking for me.  I'm nervous, excited, thinking it's a past love or my [said] long lost brother.  When suddenly my old college roommate jumps out from behind a tree. 

I'd be like, "Oh. hi." (sigh)  She'd say, "you seem disappointed".  And I'd say, "No.  No, it's not that.  It's just the whole build up, you know.  It's kind of a let down'.  She'd understand, but she'd be visably hurt.

Anyway, now I'm  paranoid everytime I get a blocked call or a suspicious email.  I'm wondering if I'm being ambushed into being 'found'.  I don't want to be found.  Trust me, if I wanted you in my life, I probably would have kept in touch.  Unless you happen to be my [said] long lost brother. In that case, holla. 

This fear can also be true with regard to my death.   I'm worried that the right person won't be there to greet me at the Pearly Gates.  I'll be expecting my mother or grandmother to be standing there waiting for me and I get there, only to find my 4th grade teacher jumping up and down waving to me.  I'd look behind me to make sure she wasn't expecting someone else.  Then I'd point to myself as if to say, "me?" and she'd nod excitedly.  Then I'd drop my bags, take a deep breath, feign happiness and think to myself.  'Well.  This is gonna suck.  What a fine afterlife this has turned out to be.  What a buzz kill'

my return to reality

After spending 5 days away, in Minneapolis, with my sister, I have returned to life as I know it.  Or at least, as I knew it. 

I've changed and I just don't think I'm ready for my old life.  In fact, I can barely remember this actually being my life.  I'm told that it was.  It's like that movie with Goldie Hawn, "Overboard".  Did I really used to take care of children and clean all day???

To be clear, I spent my vacation pretty much horizontal. Except for the day when we literally drank for 11 hours and then had the strength to go gambling. My biggest decision of every day was figuring out which shoes to wear.  I leisurely showered.  I leisurely got prettied up.  I leisurely sat thru my 2 hour pedicure. I leisurely watched movies (and not in 10 minutes segments). I leisurely ate (and drank...). So, you're seeing a pattern, yes?  I lounged.  And caught up on tv.  But, I wasn't a total sloth, we laughed....a lot.  Laughing burns calories.  We even wore work-out clothes one day.

So, upon my return I was like a fish out of water.  I got very, very used to my 'leisurely' life.  I don't like this life that I supposedly had pre-Minneapolis.  There are children here. Ones that talk, and complain.  That doesn't bode well with my new leisurely outlook on life.

On a lighter note, my husband not only took great care of the kids while I was gone,  but my house was completely spotless when I got home and he somehow found the time to paint our bedroom.  (I was grateful beyond words, but secretly I think he' was just trying to show off--proving to me that he can do my job better than I can.  Which...who couldn't? A monkey can do my job.  But I was thrilled, nonetheless). 

That's all then. Just a little shout out to let you know how much fun I had on my much-needed-respite.  Looking forward to my next jaunt!!!  Now, about these short people who keep calling me mom....

The new friend

So, Ben brought home a friend after school yesterday.  They've been pals for a while, but they've never had a play date...until yesterday.  I'm friendly with the mom, we run in a lot of the same circles and enjoy each other's company, should we find each other at the same event.  But, to emphasize---we don't know each other very well. As in, I haven't allowed her to see the inner workings of my shameful household, yet.  I usually keep that under wraps until we've been friends for a few years.  Then I bring out the big guns.

OK, so I pick the boys up from school.  I'm really laying the cheese on thick, as to create the illusion that I am a really, really nice mom.  "Well, hi there, Max!!!  We are so glad you could come home with us today!!  I stopped and got you guys donuts, hope you like sugary treats"!!!!!!  So, the big boys get in the car and Gabe is waiting patiently in the backseat.  This is Gabe: "Hi Max.  Are you Ben's friend? Do you like me? Max? Max? Max? Max, Max, can you hear me? Max, do you have Wii sports resort? What's your favorite game? Do you want a donut when we get home? Do you like donuts, Max? I looooove donuts?" This line of questioning will go on for hours if I don't put a stop to it.  So, I break his spirit and tell him to put a sock in it. 

We get home and the play date seems to be going well enough.  They're old enough where they don't need my constant supervision.  I let them huff paint or whatever 8 year olds do in their spare time.  Finally, a short while before the parents are supposed to pick Max up, Max and I are on the couch while Ben & Gabe are standing in front of us trying to "out do" each other's disgustingness.  Here's what that sounded like. 

Gabe: Mom, I see your booooobies!!!
Ben: Mom, truth or dare?
Me: Truth.
Ben: Has dad ever seen you naked?
(I'm pinching the bridge of my nose, horrified and Max is about 14 shades of red).
Me: You guys, stop being so gross, max is never going to want to come over again.
(Max is looking longingly toward the front door, wishing that his parents would hurry)
Gabe: Max, do you like my mom's butt? Nice butt, mom.
Me: Oh. My. Gosh. Knock it off you guys, you're acting like we've never had another human in our house before today.
Ben: Max, do you want me to sing Lady Gaga for you.  Watch this. "I'm your biggest fan, Papa Papa Paparazzi...." (and Ben begins to sing seductively to Max.  We're all uncomfortable at this point).

Ok, I am mortified and I'm imagining that my children will be taken away from me after word spreads that my kids are total pervs. 

The mom calls to say that her husband is on his way and I warn her as to what her son was exposed to and apologized profusely.  She laughs, but I know she was making mental notes to never let her children associate with mine again.

Dad shows up.  I'm kneeling in front of Max and through clenched teeth, I say, "we ate healthy snacks, worked on book reports and sang church songs, got it".  He laughs and bee lines out the door. 

Another friendship bites the dust, I think to myself.  I go about my merry way....    Jason comes home and I explain to him the entire story.  He looks amused, but I'm half wondering why he's starring at my chest the entire time I'm talking.  I'm done with my story and Jason says, "who came to get Max, his mom or dad"?  I said "his dad, why?" He nods toward my shirt. I look down. 

OK, side note.  My hair stylist came over earlier in the day to cut & color my hair.  In effort to make her laugh, I wore an old t-shirt that read, "MILF" on it.  Yep, you know where this is going.  I was STILL wearing it when dad came to get Max.  

So, what would you do if you came to pick up your child from someone's house, who you have NEVER met and the mom came to the door wearing a shirt that read, "MILF"? 

That's all.  Carry on.