Blogger, mother, dreamer, swimmer, biker, runner, coffee-drinking mistress of silliness… all in exciting Kitsap County!
![](http://www.jennyonthespot.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/piratejoel-408x600.jpg "\\"pirate\\" joel")
I love you… So. Much. I love you even though 9 years ago today I experienced he greatest amount of physical pain I will ever experience in my entire life… but that’s a whole other story that I will have to tell you when you are much older… Like when you are 16 and want us to buy you a car and I will tell you about… “all the pain you put me through when you were born… I can’t believe you would ask anything more from your bless-ed mother…”
Joel’s 2nd grade end of the year bowling and pizza field trip. This was his “team”.
Today was The Last Day of School and it makes me feel old… aged… older… aging…. sad.
When my life evolved to the point where it made sense to have a baby, I pictured myself the mommy of a soft baby, with buttercream for skin. Forever. My daydreams never veered. The whole world was pastel and cooed… Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star was the theme song that played softly in my dreamy, baby mamma heart.
Imagine my surprise when I learned that lasted, like, a month.
Continue reading ‘Remember the Sunsets: The Last Day of School’
Olivia cried early this morning, “The Tooth Fairy didn’t come!!!”
That darned tooth had been hanging for weeks. The Tooth Fairy SHOULD NOT have missed her delivery. Plus, Olivia just broke her wrist - the Tooth Fairy should never miss visiting the 6-year-old-girl with lopsided ponytails and a broken wrist.
Joel added from across the hall, “Yeah! Hey MOM! Remember the time the Tooth Fairy forgot to come for FOUR NIGHTS?!!!”
Yeah. She remembers. Maybe the Tooth Fairy should start depositing the cash straight into the kids’ therapy fund.
It has been a full weekend for this family of 5. An all family birthday party with The Blozulfogs, a kid’s road race (a 50 yard dash), a carnival complete with a ferris wheel and carousel ride and small stuffed teddy bears, a parade, the hottest day of 2008 (to date), a few hours kickin’ it slip-side on the local dock eatin’ elephant ears, funnel cake and cotton candy with family, Sunday school teachin’, yet another birthday party (a “a disco sparkle” party no less)… all topped off with *drum roll*… A fractured wrist!
All of our commitments and plans for our weekend of fun and more fun had come to an end. The afternoon was coming to an end. I had begun to think about what we would eat for dinner… Joel came into the house and said Olivia had fallen off the monkey bars and was crying. Dadddy went to check things out.
A half hour of crying later, we decided to seek professional help. By 5 we walked into the emergency room. By 5:30 Olivia had a bed in the hall. By 6 the x-ray tech had Olivia saying “cheese” for the picture :) By 6:59 the doctor gave us the news - a fracture of the wrist. By 7:3something-or-other Olivia and I were headed to Dairy Queen for dinner and ice cream… complete with wrapped arm and sling.
The girl did great. But she was a sight to behold sitting in that DQ. Not only was she eating a hot dog with one hand, she was eating it with one hand and one front tooth miserably loose. She was still dressed in her sparkly dress and shoes from the party earlier - and some sparkles still glistened in her hair… that loose tooth just flipped about as she negotiated the hot dog one-handedly.
When I tucked Joel into bed tonight - I found him crying. He was so sad and angry that his sister got hurt. He actually ripped his bedspread a little. Poor guy… precious guy. He may torment her regularly, but nothing/no one else better mess with her!
Tomorrow, I call the doctor. She gets to wear a cast for - oh - 2 months… ya know… now that it’s almost summer and all. Oh, and the cheer class that starts tomorrow… I’ll be asking for our money back.
Oh people. People! Why was my mother’s day happy? Well… for starters - if you have been here before you can see the BEAUTIMOUS changes on this here site. My very talented, creatively inspired, staying-up late to tweak and perfect, loving, adoring and cutie-pie husband… redesigned my site!
When I saw it - I tenderly touched my laptop screen, and squeak-whispered, “I luh her…”
Check this out:
Unbeknownst to me, my son’s shoes were in desperate shape. There were a few times he would off-handedly mention his feet were getting wet at recess. I was all, yeah… cuz he plays in the wet grass. We live in the Pacific Northwest. Wet, wet, wet… Duh.
Apparently, there was a bigger problem… An observant mother might identify the problem as: HOLES IN HIS SHOES. Not hole, but holeS. Biguns. Big and many… Talk. About. Guilt. This guilt is appropriate and called for. Look at these shoes. The child that wore these shoes has a mother. A real mother with brains and a heart… I wonder what his teacher thinks. Wait, I don’t want to know.
Ha! You thought I was gettin’ all political! Nu-uh. I mean, I do believe we should vote. Voting = good. Me gettin’ all political = not so much.
This is a call-out (YO!) for votes for a friend of ours (the hubs and mine). I’ve posted about this here feller before. His name is Joel. My son’s name is Joel, but we didn’t name our Joel after THIS Joel… but we did think about THIS Joel when we were considering “Joel” for a name, and he didn’t ruin the name for us. ***taking breath*** In fact, we really like THIS Joel, ‘cuzza he’s so derned funny - so maybe we kinda did name OUR Joel after THIS Joel… Or not - either way…. back to my point… Continue reading ‘It’s 2008! Get Yer Vote On’
Apparently, OUR Easter Bunny is not so bright. He left all his packaging in our trash can. He left the extra candy just sitting out in the open… OUR Easter Bunny must’ve missed the Easter Bunny training chapter titled: “Stealth and Deception: The Easter Bunny’s Most Crucial Skillz”.
My eight year old son found that trash can stuffed with empty Peeps boxes, fake grass wrappers, and the like. It was suspicious. He decided it was time to get some answers. He approached his father and asked that if there really IS an Easter Bunny, why is all that stuff in OUR trash can?
Who taught my son critical thinking? Who? I’ll kill ‘em.
My husband told Joel he needed a moment to think about it and left the room. When Paul returned he told Joel that the Easter Bunny sometimes is soooooo busy, he gives the parents a “Do It Yourself Kit” - if you will. So, the EB left all the stuff but Mom and Dad were responsible for assembly.
Paul is so smooth.
It appears my son didn’t fully buy his father’s clever, yet completely untrue reason… so he came to me. With leftover candy bag in hand he asked, “Mom? If there is an Easter Bunny why did he leave the candy… YOU are the Easter Bunny - aren’t you *big, big, big, big grin* He really thought he had me.
“Oh honey. The Easter Bunny just had some extra candy and decided to leave it here for us to enjoy. Isn’t he so sweet????”
My Dearest Lucy Jean,
Look at you,3 and independent. “No, I do it Mama!” Girl, girl, girl… You are a hard worker, and most things you want to do “,by mysewf!” Well, unless it's something you don't want to do by yourself, then you just won't, or you will fight all the way trying not to do it.
Like a volcano, you are unpredictable. I think I know you. I make a decision based on that knowledge, and before I can take a breath you decided to be/do the opposite. Darlin', if there was anything “boring” or “predictable” left in my life - your adorable fire burned it all away. To ashes. Continue reading ‘My “Baby”’
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