This May Be the Summer Vacation that Does Me In!

So we’re on day two of the girls’ summer vacation and I’m already eager for them to go back to school. I’ve been paged at the office for a water balloon inquiry. I’ve been emailed by one of the administrative assistants to call #2 ASAP for an overnight guest request. I’ve been interrupted roughly 53 times by phone calls and instant messages for various tattles, misbehaviors, and random thoughts that popped into their heads that simply couldn’t wait. We’ve had discussions about the nutritional value of meals consumed during the day. We’ve had lectures about respect and the chore list. We’ve fielded innumerable requests for pool passes to a pool that is currently broken. I’m sure we’ve encountered at least one overdue fine at the library for the tardy return of a movie. AND they’ve been bored on a half a dozen occasions.

Seriously?! Is this what the entire summer is going to be like? I started filling out the paperwork for summer camps and am looking into the possibilities of renting them out for weeks at a time to unsuspecting newlyweds that need a life lesson or twelve. Any takers? Anyone feeling the baby itch and want to take a test drive? I’ve got something that will cure that!

It’s hard to believe that these used to be the little angels I bragged about being so well behaved. I did that, right? Perhaps I only dreamed about doing that. Whatever the case, when a co-worker brought in her little guy, I couldn’t help but think, “Just wait. One day he’ll grow up and be a MUCH bigger pain than you ever dreamed he could be. Your turn’s coming.” In the meantime, I had a lot of fun entertaining him and letting him play with the toys I keep in my drawer at the office.

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Okay, so I have girls, but he LOVED the tiara! And don’t let that full head of hair fool you, he’s only 15 months old and doesn’t really know that he shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as he did!

We’re Not in Kansas Anymore

Ok, so I know I told you I was embarking on a journey to Oklahoma over Mother’s Day weekend. As it turns out we were really going to Kansas - as far south as one can get in Kansas without being in Oklahoma, but Kansas none-the-less. My mother, my oldest sister, and I arrived on Saturday afternoon after a forty-five minute scenic detour that I get to shoulder all the blame for. I’m not admitting it’s my fault, but it seemed to be the major consensus of the group that because I was behind the wheel it was DEFINITELY my fault. If you ever get the chance to take a scenic detour through Kansas, don’t. It really isn’t all that scenic.

We quickly checked into our hotel, dropped our bags, waited for Mom to use the bathroom (with Mom there is ALWAYS lots of waiting for her to use the bathroom – I think she has a medical condition. Seriously.), and headed off to casino #1. Much to my dismay this was not the casino that was home to my much-sought-after Ebay machine. So, I waited patiently while everyone played their favorite slot machines. My sister and I found we had the most fun when playing our machines as a team. For two people who don’t particularly care for one another, this was as much fun as we would have all weekend (losing money).

As the sun began to set and our tummies began to grumble we made a group decision to head back to the hotel, pick up some supper (at KFC, of course), and play some games. I had prepped for this trip to KFC by going to the Oprah website and using the KFC link to download free grilled chicken dinner coupons. As it turns out, this KFC was not honoring those coupons that day, but if I put my name on some random list they would send me a rain check to be used at a later date. Apparently, Oprah’s advertisement of this special caused some KFC’s to close their doors. Oh the power of Oprah!

Here’s a picture of my sister at KFC. She did NOT want me to take this picture and I was fairly certain she was going to take a swing at me. I won’t post the other one of her flipping me off (classy, right?).

Sunday would find us at casino #2. “Go to your left.” were my mother’s directions, and TA-DA there she was, in all her beauty, my beloved Ebay machine. I quickly grabbed my chair (as did my sister, my mother, and my aunt). We vowed to play this cash cow together. Here was where we’d make our millions. Oh, how I had waited for this day. I slipped my $20 into the bill slot and waited while the machine processed my deposit. I played the machine a bit more conservatively than my mother had instructed on my trip to Vegas. I wanted to make this experience last as long as I possibly could. Approximately 3 minutes passed and then it happened. I was out of money. NOOOOOO! How could my sweet Ebay machine take my money like that?! This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. How could she have treated me this way? I thought we had something special!

Well as it turns out that was how my entire weekend was to be – one aggravating experience after another. Like how after an entire day of gambling and losing money my sister and I tried to drown our sorrows in some Mother’s Day drinking only to find out you can’t by alcohol on Sundays in Kansas. Are you kidding me?!

Happy(?) Mother’s Day?

It’s official, I’ve lost my mind. What would possess me to volunteer to go on a road trip with my mother and my oldest sister over Mother’s Day?

I’ll tell you what would possess  me, my new-found addiction to that blasted eBay machine. I know my hairstylist said she didn’t have any luck at the eBay machine on her trip to Vegas last weekend, but I’m pretty certain it’s because she doesn’t have the relationship with it that I do. SO… I’ve agreed to embark on a journey with my family (not the sane ones, either) to fulfill my need to play the slot machine that calls my name in  the middle of the night.

Pray for me. Pray for them. Pray for my poor family left motherless on this Mother’s Day. How will they survive? Who will they feed cold soggy toast to in bed with a side of warm milk?

Perhaps upon my return I’ll find #1 really does love me again and realizes that she can’t live without me! A mom can hope, can’t she? I truly do miss the friend I lost during this teenage transformation.

Reason #285 Why She'll Need Therapy

When Jack and I signed up to chaperon the spring Jr. High dance, our 12 year-old was mortified. It could have been our incessant teasing that she would hardly know we were there - we would find a nice dark corner to make out all night long. She was certain we would be the end to any hope of a social life she dreamed of having. We egged her on saying that we would be the first parents ever kicked out of a middle school dance.

When the date of the big dance was finally announced she rejoiced as she realized her father would be out of town on business.

Me - "Now who will I make out with?!"

#1 - "I dunno. I guess you'll have to act like a normal person now."

Me - "Hmm, will your principal be there? I can make out with him."

#1 - "MOM! He's married!"

Me - "So. So am I."

#1 - "MOM!"

Well the dance came and went and I didn't even so much as make a move on her principal. She spent the night avoiding me and refusing to make eye contact. She stands a good six inches shorter than most of the middle school student body, so she could easily slink around the mass of dancing children virtually unnoticed by a mother. A mother MUCH less savy than I. I stood my ground and made it my mission to stalk that student body until I could make out the silhouette of my own offspring. Once I spotted her, she made eye contact, slouched down into the crowd and disappeared again. And so the evening went, spotting, hiding, spotting, hiding...

I remember when she used to think I was cool.

When her father returned from his business trip, I shared with him all the things I had been witness to during the dance - the parents who had been FORBIDDEN from going in to the gym (what parent lets a sixth grader FORBID them from doing anything?), the boys that were slow dancing together like a couple of goofs, the boy having a full-on body spaz in the middle of the floor while others gathered in a circle to cheer him on, and the songs I, myself, had danced to at my middle school dance being played here again in 2009.

We decided to treat the girls to a movie that evening Jack returned. He agreed to see whatever movie the girls wanted to see. And so we endured two hours we'll never get back as we sat through "17 Again". The two younger ones wanted to soak in as much ZACH EFRON as they could.

(you have to "sing" when you say it like Jack and I - the girls hate it!) So they sat as close to the screen as they could. #1 found that totally juvenile and was so disgusted with their behavior, she opted to sit near the top with her father and I.

The two little ones spilled their popcorn, thought we couldn't see them from where we were at, crawled back over to the spill spot, and ate their popcorn off the floor. #1 was MORTIFIED. Jack and I figured that which did not kill them would only make them sick for a little while :)

Then it happened.

The theater began to fill up with middle school students. A group of eighth grade boys sat down directly behind us and Jack (not knowing any of them) decided to strike up a conversation.

Jack - "Hey, guys, how's it going?"

(#1 slides down in her seat.)

boys - "Great." "Good." "Aight."

Jack - "Did you guys go to the dance last night?"

(#1 slinks down further along with a "DAD!")

boys - "Yeah." "Yeah." "Yeah."

Jack - "Did you have fun?"

boys - "Yeah." "Yeah." "Yeah."

Jack - "You weren't those guys dancing with each other, were you?"

boys - "No." "Nope." "Not me. "Which time?"

Jack - "Dude! It was you. Man, that's just not right!"

(#1 was nearly on the floor and praying for the Lord to come take her home!)

Jack - "Hey, you guys don't mind if we make out during the movie, do you?"

#1 - "DAD!! STOP!!! OH MY GOSH!!!"

boys - "Nope. Go for it."

I took this opportunity to remind her that she could go sit down front and center with her sisters who were just finishing "cleaning up" their popcorn mess.

I'm just glad that when she's forking over all that money for professional help she'll have something legitimate to talk about!