The Punks

Okay. I have officially been reprimanded by Consuela Sr. aka my mother. While, like most mothers, she is very positive and supportive of this blog, she has one complaint.

"Please stop calling my grand-babies Things. They are not Things. They are Grammy's babies!" (She said it in THAT MOM tone - you know the one I'm talking about.)

Um...Mom? Have you met them? Have you seen The Cat in the Hat? They destroy the  house as if some magical being takes over their brains. I felt the names were appropriate. Apparently my mother does not agree.

Here is Consuela Sr. with Thing 2 errrr...Baby Punk on her last visit.

So as to be respectful to the elders in my Tribe (it's a good thing she lives 2,000 miles away...), I will stop calling the children Thing 1 and Thing 2.

I shall call them Punks. Because they are pretty punky. And yes I know the little one is 7 years old, but she will always be my baby Punk. So there.

And Big Boy Punk has already told me he is "practically a teenager." Oh goodness...No. You. Di'int. You are 11 years old my boy. Now stop trying to grow up so fast.

On top of Big Boy Punk being 'practically a teenager,' he has taken to fashioning his hair after Anthony DiNozzo from NCIS. Have you seen it? Great show - one of my favorites. Cute guy too! I can't tell you how happy it makes me that for now, he is wanting his hair like DiNozzo as opposed to, say...his Aunt Tam (my BFF):

Aunt Tam

Not that there is anything wrong with his Aunt Tam's hair. She is rockin' the 'hawk. She's a rebel (trust me on this). Unfortunately, the school district where we live would frown upon such doings. Are they squares? Yes. Apparently mohawks are a sign of rebellion and free-thinking. Now we wouldn't want to teach kids to think for themselves would we?

Here's the guy from NCIS:

Anthony DiNozzo on NCIS

And here is Big Boy Punk after his haircut:


Rockin' a faux-hawk

After he got his hair cut, he said "so...do I look like DiNozzo?" We, of course said (in unison), "ABSOLUTELY!" You have to keep their self-esteem up during these practically teenage years. (Chanel's parenting tip #23). So I hold my breath and keep my fingers crossed until the day he wants to fashion himself after say...Marilyn Manson. Not that there is anything wrong with Marilyn Manson. I'm sure he is a very lovely person.

However, don't mess with Big Boy Punk. He is his Grammy's boy. Messin' with him means you would have to go through Baby Punk (she thinks he's a rock star) and me (eek!), but more importantly, his Grammy. Things would get ugly. And really, no one wants to mess with him because...well...he's just so sweet. And loveable. And considerate. And he cooks! I have already had marriage offers for him. So for now, I am cherishing this until the dreaded teenage years hit and he turns into something else.

Until then, we have Baby Punk to contend with. Anyone who has seen her in action knows what a wild child she is.

Pray for us. Please. I'm skeered.

Homesick...to a point.

I am a California transplant. I am originally from the Atascadero/San Luis Obispo area. San Luis Obispo is also known as the "Happiest City In America" according to Oprah. I would like to say this. Oprah has a big mouth. Anyone who has grown up and/or lived in the area already knows this. We love it and we love it just the way it is. My grandparents own a business there. My cousins and I grew up running the streets of downtown. Namely Higuera. I have grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and friends there. I miss my family and friends. I miss Thursday Farmer's Market. Live music, fresh local food from area farmers and businesses peddling their wares. You get the picture. It's quaint and charming. It's hip and eclectic. And yet you never think "oh if only..." (Well you do think if only these out-of-towners would leave...but that's a whole other post). You have everything you need. It outlawed smoking in public in 1990 (sorry smokers). It grows and stays the same all at once. Yes I know growth and tourism is good for our local businesses and economy. I don't dispute that. But come and enjoy it, treasure it, have a great experience, and even come back for another visit if you wish. But then kindly take your bags and leave.

One thing I will tell you, it's also one of the most expensive places to live. Hence why I do not live there. That and I live in Tennessee because we thought it would be a great place to raise our children after living in Los Angeles for so long.

And for the most part I do agree, Tennessee is a great place to raise kids. I love going to the grocery and running into people I know. Going to a restaurant and the kids see a schoolmate or friend. Every morning they hug their bus driver Mrs. D. We didn't have that lifestyle in Los Angeles. You don't speak to people at the grocery and you rarely run into anyone you know there.

I would move back to San Luis in an instant. The problem is, the kids. They are settled and happy. They have friends here. They have a routine. I love the fact that when we are driving down the hill and see the lights from the next town over, Thing 2 says "oooooh look at the big city lights!" (It's not - it's just the major shopping area one town over).

Seeing as how I went to 3 different elementary schools and 2 different high schools, I know the ramifications of constantly moving kids around. You never feel settled. You never feel as if you really belong anywhere. I didn't want that for my kids.

Do I hope to get back to San Luis Obispo one day. Absolutely. Will it ever happen? Who knows? I can't predict the future. All I know is that no matter if you are living in the town you want to live in or are living somewhere that wouldn't necessarily be your first choice, you have to be happy. No one can make you be happy. It's all up to you.

However, I still think Oprah has a big mouth.

http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/Happiest-City-in-America-San-Luis-Obispo-Video#commentsmystart.com­..thought

A Note to Self...

I color my own hair much to the dismay of El Diablo. He would prefer for me to let it go gray. Really?! I would prefer not thank you very much. I don't have time to spend getting my hair colored at a salon, so I finally found a shade range that I have gradually been trying and suits me fine. And when I say fine I mean no one can usually tell when I have colored my hair.  Of course, as it grows out you can see the roots. Well I can see the roots and that's what really matters anyway. I got this brilliant idea to go one last shade darker.  Last night was when I decided I had enough of my mousy brown/gray roots and needed to do something about it.

I retrieved the box of dye out of my bathroom closet (yes, I have a closet in my bathroom - aren't you jealous?) and proceed to apply the color to my head. I always add the ever lovely shower cap due to my own clumsiness and inability to focus so streaks of hair dye do not end up on the walls, carpet or the children. I mean, the dye was already splattered all over the sink and I do try to contain my disasters.

Of course Thing 2 comes in and says "Mommy! What are you doing?" Then proceeds to tell me the time (it was 8:50 pm). So I plop her in the bath, run downstairs to make lunches, make sure Thing 1 has his backpack ready to go for school, get Thing 2 dressed and make sure both are ready and in bed. So before I know it, it's 9:50 pm and I still have my sexy blue shower cap on. The color is only supposed to be on for 25 minutes. You can imagine the frenzied dash to my shower that ensued. After I finish my shower I'm such a chicken that I keep the towel on my head until there is nothing left to do. I unwrap the towel and whoooosh!

It's dark. And when I say dark, I mean black. Yes I understand the box said "Soft Black" but I assumed Soft Black meant "really dark brown." El Diablo came home this morning, took one look at it and said "I told you not to mess with it." Oh dear. Then he proceeds to chuckle, asks my name and to please not tell his wife. Such a jokester.  I got to work and my hair has received rave reviews. I've been called "vixen" and have been asked if I was getting in touch with my Latin roots. Literally roots. Cute people.

So a note to self: Do not attempt to color my hair while doing 15 other things.

Baby It's Cold Outside...

Unfortunately, it started snowing before I left work yesterday. I live 23 miles from work and it took me 2 hours to get home. Reedonkulous! Needless to say, I am usually not in a good mood when I walk in the door due to the commute. My options? Look for another job closer to home. Have I done that? Certainly! But as we all know, this economy is struggling and so are jobs. I am thankful for the job I do have. But I do struggle with being away from my family...the perils of being a working mom.

However, the positives were that my husband made me a cocktail, made dinner, and did the dishes. Awwwwww...he's a good fella. The night ended with (hey no shenanigans will be posted here dirty birds)! As I was saying, it ended with an impromptu ballet night. Thing 2 dressed up in a black leotard and black ballet skirt (is there a name for those?) and she was twirling away. She has never expressed an interest in ballet before! I had purchased a box of clothes from www.thredup.com and the ballet outfit came with it!  Of course I had to catch it on camera! Except I am not very good with my camera yet. It's fairly new and reasonably fancy and I love it. I am also technologically challenged. I admit it with no shame. Although my pictures do not even come close to the level of http://www.thepioneerwoman.com, at some point I hope to be.  She's my mentor. She has no idea who I am, but I sort of started this blog because of her. She's simply divine!

When I left the house this morning, it was 12° outside. Yowch! And guess what? The kids got out of school an hour early yesterday and they are out of school again today! At this point, I'm not sure if they will every finish their education this year. I have also figured out that my car does not like the cold. It acted just like I did getting out of bed this morning. Nooooooo....I don't wannnaaaaaaa. Don't make me! If it wasn't for El Diablo I would have gone with my original plan of going on strike.  He kept smooching me and smooching me and tickling me in the ribs. After 18 years together you think he would have learned - do not mess with me before my coffee. However, even though the man does not drink coffee, cannot stand the scent of coffee, does not understand the appeal of coffee (don't judge) - on his days off guess what he wakes me up with? You guessed it! Smooches and coffee! Isn't that the best? I know. I'm a lucky gal.

So I hope it's warmer where you are at, and I hope you have a fantabulous weekend!

HOLY COW!

What a day it was yesterday! I don't know if any of you have ever had a day like this. I'm guessing probably most of you can relate.  It's raining here in Tennessee, which means one thing. Traffic. No one seems to be able to drive in it. Do people not realize just take it easy? I was having flashbacks of being in Los Angeles traffic. I almost reverted to my Mario Andretti ways. So of course that means I am late to work. Great.

As I arrive at my place of employment, I pick up my bag only to find that my creamer for my coffee has leaked out of the container, through my lunchbag, through my totebag (thus destroying my magazines and soaking my gloves) and onto the seat of my car. And I don't have leather seats people. Lovely. Thank goodness it isn't the middle of summer.

I managed to get through the usual hustle and bustle at work. Now I get to drive home. People are still stupid and can't drive even though it isn't raining. Now I think they are slowing down to read the interstate signs warning you that a blocked lane has been cleared.  IT'S. BEEN. CLEARED. Um...drivers? Hello?

I get home to find Thing 1 still working on homework.  Which in itself is not surprising. The kid has ADD. One of our many challenges? To get him to focus, not on what Thing 2 is doing, not what the dogs are doing, not what the neighbor a block away is doing - but his homework. Anyone who has ever done homework with Thing 1 will attest - you will want to strangle him. But alas, as I am cooking dinner, he is yelling at Thing 2. Thing 2 replies back something snotty (shocking). Thing 1 yells at Thing 2, dissolves into tears and storms off to take deep breaths.  The reason I know he is taking deep breaths is because he made a point to scream it at me. I look over at Thing 2 and she shrugs her shoulders and says "what'd I do?" Oh Lord help me now.

Finally I managed to get everyone fed in one piece, managed to wrangle Thing 2 into the bath, and sit down to help Thing 1 finish homework. While Thing 2 was in the bath, I managed to clean the carpet in her room.  Remember Tiki? She-Devil Dog from the post yesterday? She likes to relieve herself in the kids bedrooms. Frequently. Mostly because the kids are too engrossed in video games or television to let her out. So since Tiki started relieving herself, Mickey - our usually angelic dog who does no wrong decided he was not be outdone! Yes, you guessed it - he started doing the same thing.  So the kids' rooms smell delightful. And when I say delightful. I mean disgusting.

I finally got everyone settled down and in bed. Oh what time you ask? 10:00 pm. A mere hour and a half later than my intended target time. And where was El Diablo during this time? Oh...he was working. Try not to be jealous.

I'd like to introduce you to....

Some of the players I refer to frequently in this blog.

There's my husband, known to some as "El Diablo"



There's Thing 1



There's Thing 2 (in a box no less!)

There's my BFF Tamee and that's me on the right!



Tam's husband Jason, also known as the Spector of Doom! (Okay so I made that up)



My ever faithful Bert. This dude has been through so many moves it's ridiculous. He is 17 years old and as curmudgeonly as he looks!




There is Tiki, known to most as She-Devil. Don't let that adorable face fool you. She is a whole bundle of CRAZY!!



And there's Mickey. The most patient dog on earth. Hey - he lives with Thing 1 and Thing 2 doesn't he?



I love these guys more than my luggage...

Stir Crazy

So the kids have been off school since Christmas break. Christmas break started 12/22/2010. It is now 01/17/2011. Oh wait. I lied. They went back to school for 2 whole days before the snow hit.  Snowmageddon 2011 around these parts. And let me tell you. The worst part? Having an entire family down with some horrible virus that wiped us out for 2 weeks at a time and counting... It was bad, but we survived. No, that wasn't the worst part. It was the fact the kids have been cooped up within swatting distance of each other for almost an entire month. Being sick actually helped with the picking. They felt too sick to pick at each other. But BLIMEY! The constant bickering and picking at each other almost drove us all over the edge. We were about to string them up by their toenails.

So as we were winding down the initial Christmas break and getting the kids ready to go back to school, I remind Thing 1 that he has a project due. He looks at me and says "well that's IF I can go back to school, I may still be sick."  Mmmm...hmmm... So instead of an argument, I agree with him, however, suggest to him "why don't you work on it a bit more, break it up, etc. etc."  His response? "I think I may be too sick."  I try to suppress a giggle and cover it with a cough (surely he didn't notice), and before I can say anything he adds "can we go to Chuck E. Cheese's?"  I blinked several times in amazement and said "let me get this straight...you are too sick to work on your project but not too sick to go to Chuck E. Cheese's?"  With his impish smile in place, he rolled his eyes and said "uuummmm...yeah."
Nice try dude. Two words...Not. Happening.

My First Post...

This is my first blog post. And I'm a little nervous. Why? I don't know. I've never done anything like this before. But why am I nervous? It's not like you are sitting here staring at me like I'm a loon. (You will come to that realization soon enough). So the reason I decided to start blogging is that many people close to me have suggested I write down my family shenanigans because apparently when I tell them things that have happened either a) they snicker because it's funny; or b) they snicker because I'm a loon. You can decide for yourself. My hope is that you enjoy reading this blog and maybe even get a laugh or two. If I can help just one person out there (don't you love that line?) realize that there are other families out there just as nutty as their own, then I've done my job. Thanks for reading!