Jenny On the Spot: Caffeinated mom, lover of dancing, glitter and glitter.

This weekend sucked. I was going to “fluff” up the “sucked” part and be all, “This weekend was Stinky Stinkerson.” But if I wrote that, the the “totally honest” part of my title would not have been “totally honest”.

It was not a weekend of illness. Nor a weekend of tragedy. Nor a weekend of poverty, nor oppression, nor starvation, nor anything worthy of garnering an uprising of pity, concern or having a group of friends rally and bring my family meals for 2 weeks (though I would never turn that away, rain OR shine)…

It just sucked. The “Mom!!!” part of this weekend, sucked.
Continue reading ‘Can I Be Totally Honest?’

Don’t let the picture fool ya. All that “primping”… all that pink. Because as soon as they step away from the mirror, one will hear/observe things like I experienced last night while we waited for big brother’s soccer practice to end…

Olivia (7) sat on the grass (criss-cross applesauce-style) while Lucy (4) spun about like the Tazmanian Devil. I had no idea Lucy even had her ears on to involve herself in Olivia’s farty escapade… Surely all her spinning and madness caused her ears to fly off. Not so much.

Olivia shouted for all the parents to hear: “RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!”

Her warning was of no help. For as soon as the “s” in “lives” left her lips… a ground rumbling fart parted the waves of grass across the span of at least 2 soccer fields. Before I even had time to plug my nose or hide from the good soccer moms… Lucy shouted, “FIRE IN THE HOLE!!!!” and ducked for cover behind a pole-thing.

And I stood there. Then I took out my iPhone and sent myself an email about what happened so I wouldn’t forget. And Olivia said, “Are you gonna blog that Mom?” And I was all, “Uhhh… YEAH!” And I also was all, “And by the way… don’t do that again. That’s bad manners.” And then I was all, “I must say that was really funny, girls. But don’t do that again.” And I snorted. And so did Olivia. And then we both snorted again.

By the way, I’ve been hydrating thanks to the Crystal Water Way Challenge… I’ve been doing a pretty good job!

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My feet are a WRECK. Over the past 3 years I have stacked running and triathlon events in such a way that my feet have not have the opportunity to return to the intended state they were given to me. You know, 10 intact, cute-ish toes… all with nails. Not model feet, but I considered the nail shape and thickness all to be in normal-to-acceptable range. And give those babies a pedi by a pro… only better.

But now it is all about smoke and mirrors my friends.

I now have 6 normal toe nails. 1 ultra thick one, if I am not careful, I am afraid it might get taller than me. I am not posting a picture. Even I have boundaries. The other thick nail… a professioanl was able to wrangle her to a place of submission. Poor guy. Yes, I had a pedi by a man. It was uncomfortable, but it had to be done. I had a public to protect. I swear, left unchecked… my toes could hurt an innocent by-stander, or at least make them vomit in their mouth a little. I want my public to be a happy public, so… I will endure a pedi by a man… if that is what it takes. *folds arms*

I also have 2 toes (the center ones) with NO NAIL. Did you know you can paint the spot where a nail should be? No one can tell. Smoke and mirrors my friends, smoke and mirrors…

The 2 nails that have complete gone AWOL are a direct result of my marathon in early May. They were fine the morning before, and made big, throbbing protests the days following. One fell off weeks ago. The other fell off yesterday.

Being the sub-standard mom that I am… Our Tooth Fairy (this will make sense, I promise) has a reputation for not showing up in a timely manner. This was a letter my daughter left for our TF one time:

Aaaanywho. So. I lost my toenail yesterday. My daughter Olivia (who had lost a tooth the day before… made a note for our fair Tooth Fairy AND left her tooth just outside her bedroom door instead of under her pillow… she is a go-getter, I tell ya. Thank heaven the TF woke up at 3:30 in the a.m. and remembered to scrounge the kids’ therapy fund and paid the kid for her tooth… which, by the way… she RIPPED out cuz that girl is made out of pure Awesome and Tough Schtuff!)

Where was I?

Oh. My toenail. My daughter was there when I finally showed Ms. Nail who was boss. Olivia said, “Oh! Mom!!! You should put that under your pillow!”

“But Olivia, do you think the Nail Fairy will come?”

Olivia was certain, “Oh yeah. You better not put it under your pillow… put it at your door.”

My poor girl. *plops 2 quarters back in the Therapy Fund*

OK. So the other day week I was wandering the halls of Macy’s… lusting and drooling over… stuff. Non-specific stuff, really. I am distracted by pretty things, shiny things, thing-things, colorful things… of all thingness. The newer the better. And while sales are nice, it seems the stuff I adore the most… is never on sale. *sigh*

As I was mopping up my puddle of drool walking through the shoe department, I saw a pair of flip flops.

I said to my 7 year old, thinking they were something she’d love…

GUUUURRRRLLLL! Did you see these? Are the made out of Awesome or what???

She cooly replied,

Um Actually, mom… they are made out of beads.

I shrugged and said, “Ah. true that.”

That’s what my  7 year old daughter said after watching a fireworks show on the 3rd of July. Yes, the 3rd. My community and another local small community around here do a “3rd of July” fireworks show. Though my own community puts on quite a 3rd of July display, this year we headed to the other local community to eat burgers with mah fren Lisa, and get our gin and tonic on.

Mostly, I decided it’d be best to celebrate at her house so she could do the dishes.

*shhhhh*

After dinner, our 2 families walked down the hill to get a spot by the dock, but we never made it to the dock. We have friends who live at water’s edge, and up… and they were not home. And we were all, “They wouldn’t mind if…” So, after several failed attempts at receiving permission via text and whathaveyou, we set up in their yard. The view was horrible:

Poor we.

The show was delightful. Lucy sat on my lap most of the time and squealed, “Purple! Purple!! Purple!!!” No, not all the fireworks were purple, but she’s four and… Eventually Olivia piled on my lap too and I sat watching fireworks with my girls and sniffed the dirt smell in their hair. I remember praying, “God, please let me always remember this moment.” Then I think Lucy elbowed me in the rib.

After the display, we picked up our mess (No evidence! Well, except for the few pics I posted on my friend’s Facebook wall showing her we were there… I digress…). And we began making our way to the gate when my 7 year old said something about the smell. Someone said it was the fireworks. To that Olivia replied,

{giggle, giggle} It smells like Jenny on the Spot!

*wipes tear* She knows me. Glitter by magnetic shards or all lit up in a fiery display. She knows who I am to my core. I mean, were I to explode… there would be no blood. Just red glitter. True story. Oh, and I suppose I would smell like sulphur. Oh well. No one is perfect.

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Are you crying? No? Well, writing that title – a mere 8 words – made my heart volley with emotion.

Joy. Fear. Overwhelm. Blessing. Pain. Recovery. Hope. Purpose. Love…

And it all started with this kid.

That’s my boy. My first-born. My son. A namesake. A compassionate. A comedian. A standard-holder. A promise keeper who holds others to their promises. He values consistency, predictability and laughter. He sees life in black and white, but appreciates quality sarcasm. From the moment I learned a life was growing inside me, I loved him to the very of the edges of my heart… who knew a heart was capable of growing higher edges…

Continue reading ‘10 Years Ago Today I Became a Mom’

I believe men really get a raw deal in these days of such progressiveness.

And maybe I shouldn’t use this video in a courtroom to defend my forthcoming argument on why I think kids need they daddies. But, c’mon. That was AWESOME.

I read/see/observe slam after slam after slam on how poorly men behave, dress, don’t pick things up, can’t find things in the fridge, scratch their bellies, fart, breathe wrong, and/or don’t put their dirty clothes in the laundry basket. To name a few.
Continue reading ‘Every Kids Needs Daddy – Happy Father’s Day, Dads!’

OK, so I don’t have 91 other ego-boost tips. I just started with #92 because it possesses an air of “experience”. Plus, if I put #1, then you’ll think the following tip is NUMERO UNO of all ego-boosting tips. Since I have never done this before, I have no idea what the best tip would be. SO. I chose #92. So there.

As a mother of three who is in the upper-mid 30’s age-range… Mah ego gets more of a lickin’ than a boost. Hey, my youngest is 4 and holds nothing back. 

Ego-Boost Tip #92: Color a select few strips of your hair red/pink…

then go have lunch with your daughter’s first grade class… Sit at a table with 7-10 impressionable 6-7 year old girls and Let. Your. Ego. Boost! In other words: Create a visual distraction. The brighter the better. 

You may overhear hear things like: 

Your mom is so pretty…

I know… she’s pretty like your mom…

Or you might have compliments directed AT you: 

Miss Jenny… I love the pink in your hair.

Your hair is so pretty.

I really like your hair.

You are really pretty Miss Jenny.

{{{pink, pink,  pink, hair, hair, hair, pretty, pretty, pretty}}}

As we sat at the elementary lunch table, with my knees to my chin… I finally had my day. You know… *cue dream sequence*

You’re 36 16 and you walk into the school cafeteria. You move in slow motion (even your hair), because you are so awesome… so awesome even time and space to take a second look. You flip your hair off your shoulder… you spy an admirer and cast a gentle smile his way. Your teeth are so white there is an actual sparkle *ding*. You wink. You saunter to a table and not unlike the Red Sea in the Biblical days, all the girls at the table make room for you. Yes, YOU. Lovely, vibrant, gorgeous… YOU… Everyone is smiling…whispering… a song starts… and….

*screech*

Whu? Oh. Aaaaanywho. I had a ball at lunch with Olivia and her classmates. They loved the pink, but I wasn’t the focus. OK, I was, but it wasn’t all about my hair… I spent a GREAT deal of time guessing everybody’s numbers on their milk cartons and catching up on their favorite subjects. Next week, maybe I’ll wear my red sequined Converse. Oh, I hope my new pals love my shoes! {giggling}

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In case you are interested… I have a new post up at Type-A Mom: How the Heck Does a Mom Relax Anyway?

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That latest “rage” over there on the Facebook is this meme where one asks one’s child(ren) a list of questions about oneself. The directions say to write their EXACT answers. Can I just ask, “Why do I put myself in these situations?” SOme kids talk about all the fabulous cookie-making their moms do with them, or the reading, or snuggling. Not my kids. Nope. They tell on me. I suppose it’s my fault. Kids are pretty honest.

Aaaanywho… like the FB friend I am… I did complete the meme. I asked my spawn children 19 very important questions about me. Their answers are listed in order of their age: Joel (9); Olivia (6) & Lucy (4). And I list them here, because — ultimately, their answers made me laugh. I love how well they know me… I love hearing what their opinions are… And I love seeing how each sees me a little differently, depending on their need.

Lucy, Joel, Olivia

1. What is something I always say to you?

J: Get ready for school.

O: That’s mean or nice??? Um… The only thing I can think of is “No.”

L: No peeing in your undies

Continue reading ‘Make Me Laugh Monday – My Children Answer’

Are you familiar with The Daring Book for Girls? It’s a book packed with fun ideas for girls! Well, as if the first one didn’t have enough… get ready, friends… on March 24th *drumroll please* The Double-Daring Book for Girls will be released! 

Olivia… Lucy… you girls ready to get your daring on? :) Maybe we should host a “daring” party :) That’s daring in itself!

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