Pizza Man

I know I'm not really good with math but I know that $9.99 plus $9.99 and the cost of a 2 liter Coke does not equal $26.12. Am I right? Unless that Coke cost six bucks.

I ordered pizza tonight from I won't say where and when I called I asked about the special. They had a special pizza for $9.99 plus a two topping pizza for $9.99. So I ordered the special and another pizza and a 2 liter Coke. Then she told me it would be twenty six bucks. "OK" I said as I was trying to do the math in my head. I didn't ask how much the Coke was. So I hung the phone up and thought about it . . . they must add a fuel surcharge or something. Seems like a lot. Especially when you tip the delivery guy $3. So really the pizza ended up being $29. Good grief! That's not the best part. The best part is that my girls, ages 6 and 3, thought the pizza delivery dude was cute.

I know! I'm thinking the same thing "They are too young to think that". My 3 year old was the first to say something. Of course they were the first to the door when the door bell rang and my 3 year old opened the front door. I made it to the door as fast as I could so I could curb any questionable remarks from my kids. As I paid the guy, my kids did their best to get his attention which he gave by smiling and laughing at them as they swung on the front door and did somersaults over the back of the couch. When he left things got interesting. Here's how the conversation between my little girls went:

"I love that guy!" said A2 (who is three)
"Me too, he's cute!" replied A1
"Yeah, he's cute." A2 agreed
"Oh, he's so cute." A1 continued

And the conversation went on so I had to walk out of the room.

What!?!?! Did I just witness my kids having a conversation about a boy? Oh my, this is way too early for things like this to be happening. Really, A2 has already gotten in trouble for trying to kiss a boy at pre-school. These are babies, people! My kids are flirting with a pizza delivery guy and talking about how cute he is. Sometimes A1 will tell me about how she and a little boy at school will walk around the track that goes around the playground and talk at after school. I guess it could be worse . . . I'm sure it will get worse but I'm just not ready for this. I don't think I ever will be.

Secret Vice

My favorite thing to do after I put the kids to bed is fix me a big bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup. Yummy. I do use the Blue Bunny no sugar added vanilla so I don't feel so bad. But then I have to balance it out with a little Hersey's chocolate syrup. OK, a lot. I always get more than I intended to. It looks like I don't have enough - who can eat just plain vanilla - and I just keep slinging more on. And a little more. And one more drop just to make sure. Kind of defeats the purpose of the no sugar added, huh? Keep in mind, I don't do this every night.

What I hate is when I am trying to savor every sweet, chocolaty vanilla bite and my kids won't stay in the bed. This always seems to happen when I have made my delectable snack and I have just taken the first mouth watering bite. It's like they know that I am eating this behind their backs. So, they get out of bed and sneak to where ever I am with some excuse as to why they are not where they are supposed to be. I know, you are saying "Wait until those critters go to sleep! Haven't you learned your lesson?" I agree with you, you just don't understand, I can't wait. I have to have it now. It's so gooood.

So what do I do about this? Well, first I try to hide my bowl and keep my mouth closed so they don't smell chocolate on my breath. They are girls so if chocolate is involved, they know it! I do this as I am trying to shoo them out of my space and back towards their beds. This my friend, does not work. "What are you eating?" is always the first thing they say. Of course my answer is the same answer any smart mom would say "Nothing" as my voice goes up an octave. So I calmly escort them back to bed and tell them good night and all that good stuff over again then run back to my sweet treat. It never fails, someone gets up a second time. Not so nice mama anymore. This time I usually get a little agitated as I envision my frozen secret melting into a puddle of slimy vanilla and chocolate swirl. Most of the time I yell, "What are you doing? You are supposed to be in bed!" My chocolate is drowning in my vanilla! "Get back in bed." Then I take them back to bed and tuck them in tight - that outta hold 'em another minute or two. Usually, when my kids get out of bed after I have already put them to bed, I don't walk with them back to their rooms and put them back in bed. They go on their own. However, when there is the risk of melting ice cream involved, I have to make sure they are actually getting back in bed.

Usually by the time I actually get to eat my ice cream it has turned into a soupy, drippy bowl of slush. Yes, I still eat it and no it is not the same. All I ask is to be able to enjoy my secret vice and not be interrupted. In order for this to happen, I have to have restraint and patience. If I can restrain myself from jerking the freezer door open and diving in as soon as I bound out of their rooms, I may be able to accomplish just that. Patience. My Grandma always had this little picture frame that sat on her kitchen table and in it was something that she had cross stitched that said "Lord give me patience and I want it right now." That is so me right now!

So, here I am once more slurping soupy ice cream and writing a blog. Yum.

Shoe Check

I really don't understand. We have had the same routine for going on 2 years now. Get up, eat breakfast, get your clothes on, brush your teeth, make sure your book bag is packed and ready to go, bring me something to fix your hair with. OK, we are talking about the kids here. Still I have to tell them every morning what to do. I get them up, make their breakfast (you know they can't eat the same thing that would be too easy - they each want something different), then I have to tell them what to do next.

It's a never ending battle. The other morning we were going through our normal routine with the kids acting like they've never gone anywhere before and me not controlling my emotions very well. I'm getting better about that. I have started picking out their clothes the night before and I make sure A1 has everything packed and ready to go the night before also. This does make the morning go a lot easier. But it's when I have to tell them common sense things like put your clothes on you are going to school, or brush your teeth you just ate breakfast, that really makes me steam. To make matters worse someone always miss places something important or can't find a shoe that's right in front of them. Or spills something on their clean clothes and you have to find something else for them to wear. This all should be very simple. Should be. It's not.

Hubby goes to work really early so I can't ask him for help. It's all me. I have to be at work at a certain time. Everyday. I have to take the kids to school. Everyday. Different schools at opposite sides of the county. I may be exaggerating a little here but they are in different towns. So you see, we are on a time schedule (time crunch is more like it). I really don't know why it takes 15 minutes to eat a pop tart. Of course the kids have no concept of time. I think this is where the problem comes in.

Oh well, that's a different story. Maybe one day I can report that my kids finally understand that in order for me to keep my job so they have somewhere to live, food to eat, and clothes to wear, we have to leave the house by a certain time so I can get to work on time. We are far from this I'm afraid. Most every morning I have to check and make sure A2 isn't wearing the same socks she wore yesterday. I have to inspect A1's mouth to make sure she brushed her teeth (for longer than 30 seconds). When it comes time for me to fix their hair, there is always a fight . . . "she's got the hair bow I want to wear" . . . "I want pig tails" . . . "you're pulling my hair" . . . and my favorite from A2 . . . "ME FIRST".

You can imagine that I am not surprised that as of Wednesday of this week I now have to inspect my children to make sure they have their shoes on before they get in the car. Yes, you read me right, we have to make a shoe inspection. As we were walking out the door Wednesday morning, already late mind you, the kids had their jackets and book bags on and I was pulling the door closed and A1 frantically yells "My shoes!" What? I said "What about them?" I may have yelled that. "I forgot to put my shoes on!" Uuugghhh!! Are you kidding me!? How do you forget your shoes? Just ask A1.

So everyone, if you can't remember to put your shoes on before you leave the house, don't feel bad . . . my kids can't either.

A la mode

Well, here I am again "catching up" on blogging.  I have been really busy lately.  So the time that I do have when I could be blogging, I'm being lazy or reading something.  So, I don't have too much to say.  

Of course my kids are always doing something funny so I guess I could write about that.  Here's something . . . last night we had a pastor from our church over.  I didn't give my kids the whole "you better be on your best behavior or else" speech.  It wouldn't have done any good any, plus kids will be kids no matter what.  Well, apparently hubby did.  Wasted breath - all I can say. However, it go really well!  We had fun, enjoyed our company and the girls were pretty good. We had a few moments.  A2 talked all evening.  After every bite she took, she said something. You can imagine that was lovely.  Plus she sat right beside the pastor.  I was going to sit beside her but she really wanted him to sit beside her.  We warned him that drinks are most likely to spontaneously tip over.  In your lap or plate.  He was up to the challenge and we made it through the entire night with out a spill.  Praise the Lord. 

There was one incident later in the evening that shocked us.  Suprise, suprise.  After we had our dessert and the girls went to brush their teeth, I told them to go to their rooms and put their jammies on.  That's really no biggie.  All was going well, teeth were brushed and the girls were in their rooms, when A2 popped out from the hallway stark naked.  Yep.  Not a stich of clothing on her 3 year old body.  As soon as I saw her - mommy radar was on so I saw her before anyone else, I jumped up and screched "What are you doing?".  "I need a pull up" she replied in a sweet little voice.  This was completely my fault.  We had the pull ups stashed in a canvas bin under an end table in the living room.  I failed to get one out and take it to her room to avoid such incident.  So, she was going to get one.  Oh well.  Guess that really shouldn't have been a suprise.  Actually earlir that day I said a little prayer to myself that my children would keep their clothes on in front of our company.  Well, it wasn't really a prayer, more like a fleeting thought.  I guess that's God's humor!

Our evening ended well and the kids asked if he was going to come to dinner every night.  Oh, I almost forgot.  A1 said something funny, too.  I got up to serve the brownies (from a mix) and I asked if anyone wanted their brownie a la mode.  A1 got really excited and said "I do!  I do!"  I said "you don't even know what a la mode means do you?"  Very seriuosly she replied "Yes I do! It means a lot."  Ha, she wishes!