Total Male Domination

Just seconds ago The King told Fox-who was sniffing around my dinner plate begging for scraps of rice and beans- that it was time to get in the shower.

Fox immediately started groaning and when I pre-empted the whine fest, he tried to explain himself by uttering the 7 greatest words to ever come out of his mouth.

But I thought you were the boss.

I Have Established Total control.

Can I hear an Amen and a Hallelujiah?



Post script- To be read in the voice of Will Arnet
Of course, the Man Child just destroyed the entire roll of duct tape that I use to keep his diapers on him during nap time in what could only be a sign of rebellion against the dictatorship know as Mom and Dad, but if I've conquered Fox that means I can now exert all my energy into that little monster. You should have tried to ally with your brother MC. Now you stand alone. (See why I picked Will's voice? It's epic)

Apology- Well Kind Of)....

About that last post,

I am truly warped.

'Nuff said.

Who Needs A Snuggly When You Have a Onesie??

How did I celebrate the Utes' overtime win today and BYU's demoralizing, kick in the teeth loss to TCU?

I went out and bought myself some onesie pj's.

Pajamas with feet might just be the greatest clothing creation of all time. We snuggle babies in them from the moment the leave the nice, warm womb and enter the cold and dreary world. I always mourned the day when my kids graduated into 2 piece nightwear. It meant they were getting older and no longer qualified as babies or toddlers.

(Insert a trumpet fanfare going off in the back ground, indicating a moment of great realization has occured)

Oh. Crap.

Maybe I'm regressing and my desire for to wear baby jammies is really a yearning to return to the safety and peace of my mother's womb. Hmmm, I'll have to talk to her about that.....

(Now, a quick dash down the hall)

Mom said that's fine with her. We have a re-entry scheduled for later this evening after she finishes her lesson for church tomorrow. She's such a good planner and always thinks 3 steps ahead. I can't believe she said yes- it's overly generous, even for her. My mom just gives and gives and gives.

Well, I guess I'll have to sit back and enjoy my onesies for a few more hours till she's ready. If you don't see me for a while don't worry. I'm just chillin' in mom's belly at the homestead while I work out some things.

Update:
Re-birth never happened. I realized that Diet Coke would be hard to come by invitro so I guess I'll have to hash out my issues some other way. Maybe I'll just sleep in the fetal position for a few weeks and see if that solves anything.

When Sharks Attack, and Cookies For Breakfast...

When I was growing up, the last thing I ever thought I'd adore being when I grew up was a mom to boys. I HATED teenage boys. They were mostly bullies and jerks with questionable hygiene. Each and every one of them thought they deserved nothing less than a "10" for a girlfriend; never mind that they probably only qualified as a 6 themselves (and that's being very generous and allowing for potential after they finally hit puberty). When people excused their bad behavior as "boys will be boys" I wanted to rip their eyes out. What does that even mean? So it's okay to be a complete neanderthal because you have a Y chromosome and I do not? I'd like to see that stand up in court.

But then I went to college and was finally introduced to men. Men are what teenage boys turn into after they hit puberty and their brains finally start working at nearly full capacity. Men are wonderful; they are kind, loving, supportive and surprisingly sensitive. They bring you flowers and kiss you on the cheek at the doorstep on your first date. They try to make you dinner and even though it tastes like garbage you eat it willingly because you can't bear breaking their heart. Men promise to love you, not just for this life, but for eternity.

Having now seen this evolution, it's easier to understand what "boys will be boys" means. Sure they are disgusting at times, rude at others, never stop eating and take obnoxiousness to the level of art, but behind those behaviors are quiet, less obvious moments where you see the man starting to form. I see it every time Fox makes a gigantic mess doing one of his "experiments" that involves lots of water, dirt, and every pot in the kitchen. In between the "oh crap am I in trouble" look, there is a brightness to his eyes and excitement over his last great discovery that make me stop mid "Clean this mess up RIGHT NOW and never do it..." and laugh. Or when he sits in front of the tv for hours on end and my first impulse is to give him a lecture on how his room is a mess and he was supposed to go clean it right after school instead of being glued to the tube, but he first comes to me crying because he just watched a baby sea lion get eaten by it shark and he is inconsolably heartbroken. Perhaps only I can understand why it makes my heart smile every time the Man Child asks for "snack time" even though he's just finished the last "snack" thirty minutes ago, or why his cookie crumb smile makes me warm inside instead of frustrated over messy clothes and an even messier floor.

In my boys' bright eyes and crooked smiles I can see the men they will become, great men like their father, and it makes me so proud to be their mom. I don't know what people on the outside think of them- frankly, I don't want to know. I'm sure they only see the same things I saw in the boys I grew up with, the things that overshadow the little moments of brilliance that no one but a mom really perceives and discovers.

Thank heaven for little boys....

80's Hair Bands, Mohawks, and Dysfunctional Adults Mentoring Dysfunctional Teenagers: 3 Reasons Why I Love Wednesday Night...

I am in love.

Not ovary tingling love. Good heavens, I've been married for going on 14 years. The King and I are in this forever.

No, it's the kind where you become so obsessed you can't think about anything else. The kind of love where the object of your affection is almost a drug. Like an addict, you would do just about anything for a hit. You stalk it on the web and google everyday hoping some new photo or juicy video has been leaked onto the world wide web. When you find such a treasure you look/watch it over and over and over. You can't get enough.

I am in love with Glee.

You know a show is not just good but remarkable when you love, or love-to-hate every single character on it. Each is tragically flawed, but that only makes them perfect caricatures of humanity as a whole. For example:

*Mr. Shuester (aka Mr. Shue or Will): The guy who forgoes wealth and prestige to take the "honorable" road of teaching and mentoring but cannot see the truth staring him in the face- that his lazy, self-indulged has been cheerleader of a wife is faking her pregnancy and he's really in love with the OCD riddled, doe eyed school counselor.

*Rachel Berry: Insanely talented and pretty in a quirky, Barbara Streisand kind of way, but obnoxious to the point that she deserves all the slushies thrown in her face. She redefines Diva to a point that Mariah Carey and Celine almost look humble. And yet, I'm rooting for her and Finn and I love that her most selfless and vulnerable moments are when she is with him.

*Finn: I bet his mother called him Man Child when he was growing up too. He's is lanky, horribly uncoordinated and dumb as a brick but he is also lovable and endearing- kind of like a puppy. When he told Quinn he wanted to name their daughter Drizzle I wanted to both pat his head patronizingly and slap him silly for being so dumb that he actually thought he could get his girlfriend preggers through, well, watch the show. I love that his voice is raw and untrained and getting better every week.

*Quinn: Shame on you girl. Preggo by your boyfriend's BFF, and then you have the nerve to call your baby daddy a "Lima Loser" when he offers to step up and take responsibility. It's nice to see the snobby, cruel Cheerio slip down the social ladder a few notches, but her social demise is not as satisfactory as you'd hope when you see her crying in despair over the reality of being a teenage mother-to-be and having to face the disappointment of her family and the humiliation of the entire student body knowing that the Celibacy Club Pres. has to turn in her chastity belt.

*Sue Sylvester: Crass, racist, abusive, anti everything under the sun that smells remotely like it came from a democrat- the perfect villain. She's so good at being bad that she might just be the reason why "witch" lost the w and got replaced with that other letter. The one after A.

*Emma: As a fellow germophobe, I feel her pain every time she wipes down a door handle before touching it or becomes panicked when someone touches her food. Her crush on Will is sweet, but not sickeningly sick- more like diabetic approved sweet. My heart broke for her when she accepted Ken's proposal, but I cant help but want to see her pick up his sweaty and sporadically washed John Stockton gym shorts off their bedroom floor while wearing a gas mask and rubber gloves.

*Puck: You've gotta love a guy who can rock a Mohawk while expressing his sensitive side by serenading the local cougars who employ him to clean their pools, and um, other things. At first I really hated him for his relentless persecution of the music geeks- mostly because I was one back in high school and I still haven't really accepted the fact that I always have been and forever will be uncool. But when he revealed that he thought moms are hot he had a fan for life. We are hot, right moms? Sure we've given our youthful bodies away to pregnancies, childbirth and never having a free moment to ourselves but man, we can work it! You just go ahead an appreciate the beauty that is a mother with stretch marks and saggy boobs Puck.

I could go on and on, as I have failed to touch the other great characters in this comedy of error, but the hour is late and the eyes grow weary. Let me then give a special honorable mention to Kurt, Tina and Ken for being unique and always leaving me wanting more, and to Wheels and Mercedes for killer pipes. I could listen to "Bust a Window" over and over and over.

Speaking of music, have I mentioned that the Glee songs are AMAZING!!! I love the reworks of great classics and modern music, but my favorite has to be the mashup of Bon Jovi and Usher from 2 weeks ago. I've had a serious thing for Jon Bon Jovi since Middle School, and my Glee boys did him proud. We have purchased every available Glee song on iTunes and there is rarely a family car ride where we don't have one of their songs pumping.

So I guess we all have a crush on Glee in a way. Fox can almost sing Journey's "Don't Stop Believe" in tune, and the Man Child jumps in on the "da, da, da, da da"'s with energy, a rhythmic head bob and a few great booty shakes from his car seat. Family bonding moments are important you know.

I heard a rumor the other day that the Glee cast might go on tour this summer. If it's true, be still my heart. Oh, and you'd better invest in some really good security. I've never been a stalker before but for Glee I might just become a roadie.

Freudian Slip, or Just Really Optimistic???

Today the Man Child asked to watch a DVD that I haven't seen since Fox was in pull ups.

He brought it to me and garbled " I watch asbdaksd asdlasd???'

What??

Again, "I watch asdasd asdasdfskdjfh?"

Thinking that this was a prime opportunity to work on his still-limited vocabulary, I corrected him saying "It's POWER RANGERS"- emphasizing each syllable slowly.

He obviously really grasped on to my teaching moments because he started the sentence again, this time making every word clear as a bell.

"I watch power wieners?"

Sure kid. Close enough.

Can You Say "I Suck" In 10 Different Languages???

I realized today that I blow at blogging.

If there is anything semi-stressful or time consuming going on at La Casa de Loma, the last thing I want to do is write about it. I could have spent the last 4 weeks giving daily reports on the progress of my brand spankin new French Country kitchen rehab, but I have made a commitment to not swear (I year and counting with only 2 flubs!) and should I have tried to reflect on the misery that is kitchen overhaul I would have made up for the entire 12 months sans potty mouth.

Needless to say, as I have taken the time today to sit and check this little, insignificant piece of the world called my blog, I am almost done. I can see the end. A little more sanding, a few more coats of paint and some grout and I will reclaim the kitchen as the place for doing homework and eating takeout. Oh, and occasionally cooking.

Pray for me- I'll need all the endurance I can get to finish the last stretch!