“Capture what it’s like to spend a day or a moment

talking with your kiddo.” Mama Kat

I really think I’m beginning to see things

from his point of view!

We all want to be rich someday.  Many would like to bask in the warm sunset on a Fijian Beach.  I have no idea why, but thousands hope to wheeze across the finish line of a triathlon in the name of some disease that certainly can’t be cured by a pulled hamstring or a chapped ass.  And which one of us bloggers wouldn’t want to publish the next teen novel destined for Hollywood and an unnecessary split into a trifecta of movies and $$$? 

We’ve all been there.  Wished that.  So reading a bucket of bucket lists can get monotanous.  And sad, since seeing our dreams unachieved by so many others just shows us how they are almost completely unattainable.

But today we reverse the thought process! 

Let’s make a Bucket List of things we’d rather not!

(I’ll go first…)

1.  I don’t want to go on a cruise. 

I’ve never been on a cruise.  And I never want to go on a cruise.  And I know you are all going to tell me how much fun you had on your anniversary trip to Mexico and that the buffet of wonders was awesome and the music and dancing top notch.  But I don’t believe you.  And I’m claustrophobic.  That is way too many people on one boat.  And if my only retreat from the crowd is to huddle in my 7×7 ft closet of a room or hurl myself overboard, well, I’d rather stay home and do laundry, thank you. 

And I don’t do buffets. Ever.  Want to know why?  Just watch the news.  And when you see the headlines about the latest floating petri dish quarantining their passengers to their cubicles to reduce the unstoppable spread of “the pukes and the poops” then you’ll know why.

And let’s not even mention the 100th year replay of the Titanic disaster that just took place…

Nope no cruisin’. Give me sand and sea and a way to flee!

2.  I don’t want to watch The Exorcist ever again.

Now that I’m a parent I can’t believe my 7th grade friend’s mom let me (and ten other 12 yr old girls) watch such evil filth.  Not to mention we all lost a bit of  innocence and all restful sleep for 3 months to follow.  Yea, that was an excellent choice for slumber party entertainment! 

Let’s brush each other’s hair then see whose head can spin around the furthest.  Oh look ,pea soup and birthday cake! Anyone up for a round with the Ouija Board?  How about Light as a Feather Stiff as a Board!?  And I’ve got crucifixes for party favors, girls!

3. I don’t want to try Durian.

What for? I like to try new things for myself.  But I’ve seen and heard and gagged enough just watching other adventurous folks try the putrid fruit.  First of all, if you have to pinch your nose in order to get a food into your mouth without vomiting, it probably ain’t good!  And 2nd, if a food has been banned from many markets and restaurants because of its dead cat festering in the sun smell, it probably ain’t good!

I’m not even sure at this point it qualifies as a food.  More like a last resort when ship wrecked on a deserted island where the only other option for food is eating one of the crash victims.  And even then that corpse would have to be covered in pox to make the Durian look appetizing.  But I don’t do cruises, so this dilemma should never arise, right?

 4.  I don’t want to drive a minivan.

I know I’m a mom.  You know I’m a mom.  Anyone who sees me driving my big honking SUV knows I’m a mom and not a snow board instructor here in Texas.  So the fact that I don’t want to drive a minivan has nothing to do with looking like a mom.   It’s just that I don’t want to look like “that kind of mom.”  Get it?  No?  

Alright look, I make every decision based on how it will effect my kids.  I drive the carpool line twice daily.  I carry little league-rs, cupcakes and goody-bags, and three booster seats thousands of miles a year.  But NOT driving a minivan makes me feel like, if I got the hankering, I could take off into the sunset, roll the windows down, toss out my bra, blast Pitbull’s greatest on the radio, and pull into Spec’s Liquor store without getting weird looks!  (As long as no one spotted the boosters and bag of wipes in the second row, of course.)  

5.  I’m not giving birth during a Hurricane. 

Never again, that is.  Nothing like having your nurse bawling her eyes out and refusing to tell you what the hospital is planning to do with you and your baby during the evacuation because she’s too upset to talk about it!  Really?  My husband is 2 hrs away getting our twins to safety while I’m laid up just hours after a c-section.  My baby’s in the NICU and Hurricane “Wife Beater” is barrelling toward us!  And I’m consoling the nurse! 

And to add insult to injury.  The neighbors big ass red oak literally taco-ed our house hours later, starting in the new baby room and continuing across until it opened things up nicely for the monsoon that followed.  9 months later my baby boy got to come home for the first time.

Nope not doing that again.  Ever. I’ve spoken my peace and counted to 3.  That’s 1..2..3 boys.  And that’s enough.

6. I don’t want to build another house.

The one we’re building now is about to do me in, and the thought of building another in the next millennium sounds like giving birth during a hurricane.  Oh no she didn’t!  Not to mention moving sucks. 

Well, there is one exception.  If money weren’t an issue…  Like if I invented post-its and was a successful business women and could hire someone else to know what I like, design it, contract it, write the checks, make it happen, move my crap in, decorate, and then call me when my bubble bath is ready….Then okay, I’d do it again.  Maybe.  But being disgustingly rich is on the other bucket list.  The one that I probably can’t make happen.

7.  I don’t want my card to be declined.

Thankfully, I’ve never had a card declined. I’ve forgotten my pin # wrong a time or too and cussed at the little computer at the register.  But I’ve never had a card declined, or worse, cut up for all to see.  But for some reason, while I’m waiting in a line to checkout, sometimes my heart quivers at the thought.  Usually as I’m unloading $200 worth of food onto the conveyor belt. 

And then I wonder….Do you complete the shop-of-shame experience by being forced to put everything back?  What if I have to restock 4 boxes of cereal, 6 apples, the pre washed pre cut veggies for lazy moms, and above all those impulse purchases like animal shaped spoons and cookie dough bites?  I think I’d just pretend I got an emergency call from the school cause Twin A got his head stuck in the bathroom stall door again and bolt out of there!  (Yes true story.  I’ll tell you about it sometime.)

8.  I don’t want to do the Atkin’s diet.

Maybe I should change that to “I’m not capable of following the Atkin’s diet.”  My name is Jennifer and I’m a carboholic.  I also do not wish to try the Tape Worm diet. As much as tape worms resemble linguine, and as much as I like me some pasta, I can’t go there.  Just so you know.

 9.   I don’t want to go deep sea fishing.

I like to eat fish, but I don’t have to catch them myself for them to taste good.  I like to catch mine between a pile of dirty rice and crust of buttered bread preferably.  Hubs loves to fish, and my boys would jump at the chance to head out to sea with him.  I’ll pack them a cooler, dead bolt their life jackets onto them, kiss them all and wish them luck as they depart to catch the big one and I depart for the spa!  After all, I already went to Miami and caught a Cuban. What else is there?

10.  I don’t want to make a real Bucket List.

To much pressure to perform.  I’d feel like a failure if I didn’t hit all my checks before I wore my legs out dancing through what life decides to throw at me. 

So I may never make it to Spain to watch those idiots run with the bulls, cause we got idiots right here willing to ride those bulls and my boys love to go to the rodeo.  I may never complete a triathlon on national TV, cause I’m busy running behind Evil Knievel on training wheels. And I may never “Dance with the Stars” but Hubs and I can burn a hole through the tile floor with our bare feet dancing to the tune of whatever my little rock stars in training are plucking out this week.  But…   

“Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.”

John Lennon

This is a tea party….Dude Style!

Yes, we have sappy cliche’s scribbled on over-priced cards.  And yes, of course, we have

CHOCOLATE!…

…and some patrons as wild as a March Hare.

But, we also have

Marshmallow Races!

The crowd held their breath as GoGo made a strategic marshmallow

pass to her partner Twin A.

LOOK…NO HANDS!

But it was heart filled

determination and speed that won it for

Team Mambo (i.e. your’s truly and her nephew the Marshmallow-nator!)

The other teams took it pretty well all in the game of

LOVE!

(Tweedle-dee)                                     (Tweedle-dum)

So we laid down our straws and sat down to

Tea!

“More tea?”

 Well, if you haven’t had any yet, you can’t very well take more.

  Ah, but you can’t very well take less!

Yes. You can always take more than nothing.

“I’m afraid we’re entirely bonkers.

But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.”

…she”ll need you to be quiet.

So you’ll whisper,” night…night,” stomp down the hall

and fight over video games with your brothers.

When you spill a bucket of hot-wheels on the hardwood floor

she’ll come stomping down the hall too.

You’ll have to blame the 50 car pile-up on

your littlest brother.  And when he roars in denial,

she’ll make you all clean up.

When you finish cleaning up you’ll ask to go outside.

And your brother will ask to watch TV. And your other brother

will want to play a game.

So she’ll tell you all to put your shoes on.

But you won’t.

Two of you will be too busy whining in defeat.  The other of you will be flying

a toy plane all around the room completely oblivious that you were the

one that wanted to go outside in the first place.

So she will tell you to put your shoes on.  Again.

Louder.  Gritting her teeth.

30 minutes later you’ll have managed to get 2 time outs, a swat on the butt and

 your shoes on.  Then she’ll tell you to stay out of the mud.

So you’ll grab a plastic shovel and head down to the ditch to

try and scoop up a minnow or tadpole.

And you’ll slip and fall in.

Then she’ll make you go for a walk in your wet shoes because she needs

to get some peaceful exercise.

You’ll complain about how tired your legs are for an enitre block.

When you get back home she’ll make you rest on the bench while she

plays catch with your brothers.

But you’ll miraculously recover and grab your bike and proceed to

zoom up and over the sand pile an inordinate amount of times

exceeding super human strength!

Then she’ll grit her teeth again and send you in to do homework.

So you’ll relapse into near death exhaustion and cry out against

the unfairness and cruelty in the world.

She’ll say you need to go to bed early since you are so tired.

Which will remind her of that nap you almost gave her.

And chances are, while you’re writhing in the agony of an approaching early bed time….

she’ll fall asleep on your math homework.  Drooling and snoring when

your dad finally walks through the door.  And you’ll greet him like

Santa bringing chocolate dipped hundred dollar bills.

   Here!  Right here!   Please forgive my complete disregard of your need for my witty take on motherhood.  (Just pretend you’ve been distraught without me, okay.)

I’m making a valiant effort to return in the midst of building a new house that is melting all the brain cells I have that are still capable of making a decision, the depths of 1st grade homework (wow, who knew 1st grade x’s 2 could be so daunting?…), and teaching the midget triplet to write his name and quit climbing into my bed every night at 3:40am on the dot!

  Lately my Mambo reminds  me of the Tasmanian Devil’s wife.  Foaming at the mouth while spinning around baring her teeth. Remember her?

As a child I remember being annoyed seeing her knocking Taz upside the head with a rolling pin when he was mean to the baby.  Now I totally feel her!  Yeah, I know he’s stressed too about the house and all.  But some days, when the boys aren’t sitting just so at the dinner table, or a couple of blades of grass make their way onto the kitchen floor via a size 2 Nike, or he gives an absent “uh-huh” from behind that I-pad screen to my sincere attempt for conversation….I’ve contemplated reaching for my fabulous red rolling pin.

But, I make a divine pie crust and we can’t go ruining that with bits of hair and brain matter, can we!

But I’m back!  And I’d like to know if you’re still with me on the dance floor?  If so leave me a comment below.  Even if its just as simple as the word “present” or “here”.  (but that would be entirely boring and wouldn’t let me know how much you’ve missed me and are glad for my return!)

And just to let you know, my absence, though long and agonizing for you, has been spent on other worthwhile projects. Such as this Palace in Progress:

And these 3 Works of Devastatingly Handsome Art:

Jingle Joe is an over achieving elf.  I’ll admit it.  He’s backed by a momma who is a complete child at heart.  This morning he was found chillaxin’ in a marshmallow bath much to the chagrin of my 7 year old twins who still believe, but have many questions brought on by doubting friends at school.

I remember that feeling.  That Christmas AWE!  Do you?  Christmas was pure magic as a child.  Childhood is a flash in the pan of life and this Fruit Cake of a Mom wants her guys to soak up all the wonder and fun it has to offer.

So Jingle Joe wrestles with Dinosaurs at this house.  The midget triplet loved this one, but was worried he wouldn’t be able to resist joining in the fight and accidentally touching the elf. Whew!  He restrained himself and Jingle Joe made it the whole day without a touch from those itchy fingers.

Jingle Joe returned this year with quite the debut.  Green Pee in their potty started the game!

 A make shift zip-line from window to lamp upon a candy canehad them all cracking up and wondering what Jingle Joe planned to do with that candy cane when he was done?!  Which he left hanging on the zip-line the next night with a tag that said, “For Boo!”

And on the twins’ birthday Jingle Joe donned a party hat, tore into the cupcakes meant for school, hung a birthday banner, and left a trail of confetti from the foot of their beds to where he was perched ready to wish them a Happy Birthday.

Now, at this time you may:

1.  Leave all jealous cause your too lazy or bahumbug to play along hate mail in the comment section below.

OR

2.  Prepare to steal one of Jingle Joe’s ideas from above or the list of his other antics below!

*Decorate the tree with the kid’s underwear and sit innocently grinning on the mantle holding the last pair.

*Get caught in the A/C vent in the ceiling hanging upside down in desperation.

*Fly onto the Christmas tree aboard a new NASA Space Shuttle Ornament that the Space lovin’ twins will freak over.

*Hide out in the hermit crab cage.  Then prepare for questions of magic loss from a crab touch.  “No, crabs and other pets won’t remove elf magic.  He just has a bad case of crabs!”

*Fly across the room on a toy airplane cradling baby Jesus and come to rest on the book shelf.  Jesus Joy Ride!

I would love to hear your best Elf Antics!  Please leave a comment with how it all went down!

*

Mama Kat asked:  “What is it about that movie that makes you cry every time?” 

It’s freakin hilarious, thats what!  Brings me to cackling tears every year!

Clark Griswald

Cousin Eddie

Well, they said be original.  And I love this movie!  It’s a must every holiday season!

We all have a cousin Eddie somewhere on the family tree and we wonder how that tree could fork so drastically! 

 So this is our entry into The McFaddin Ward 2011 Gingerbread House Competition.   And one of the numerous reasons I have neglected my poor blog so badly.  As you may know, I am also currently building a real home out of inedible materials and that house is consuming me rather than the other way around.

This was mine and the GoGo’s first attempt at a Gingerbread competition. It may not win a thing, but we’re proud and it will be up for auction to benefit Buckner Children and Family Services  on December 10th.  Just to be authentic I added the trash pile  from the movie complete with the sled Clark set ablaze with his spray on lube, the chair that burned along with the cat who ate the tree lights, and the reindeer sleigh Clark destroyed in a fit of rage over 10,000 twinkle lights….that won’t light.

It was too much fun, so I’ll probably do it again next year.  Even between Christmas shopping, school projects, class party planning, partners with broken arms, the Twins Birthday and 48 cupcakes to bake, and oh ya

…ahem…

Mine And Hubs Birthday.  Yes.  Its the same day.  We have to share.  This Friday.  Barely more than a week after the twins.  So basically nothing special.

I do hope the judges have seen this holiday movie tradition and recognize our theme.  The GoGo’s a bit worried. The movie is over 20 years old so I think it is a widely known classic.  I just hope we get some bids at the auction.  So I don’t have to have hubs inconspicuously buy it back to save face that my efforts to benefit a good cause were fruitful!

We worked really hard…but then again,

Grandpa Art

If you‘ve been living with orphans in Somalia for the past two decades and haven’t seen this awesome holiday flick guaranteed to have you choking on your eggnog, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!

And if we win anything…well, Eddie…. ”If I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet, I wouldn’t be more surprised…”!

It’s officially Thanksgiving Holiday Break as of 9:30am today.  After a sticky sweet Indian pancake feast and a shouting good poetry recital about a bunch of ungrateful turkeys, all my boys are now mine for 9 days.  With no alarm clocks, 1st grade homework, school, or mother’s day out interruptions. 

Should I be excited or anxietal with dread?  Honestly, I’m a bit of both.  Glad for the vacation from the schedules but we’ve been home less than two hours and they’ve already initiated WWIII!

In other news…..

Please…..for my Clorox Bleachable Moment.  Click the sketch below, enjoy my agony and then VOTE!  It’s positively POOP-TASTIC! And in the Top 5!

Just sign into Facebook and give us a vote. At least once in the next 6 days if not once every day!

In still further news….

And for that, and for all that I have (especially the three currently destroying the house) I am very Thankful this holiday. 

…and all through the house

boxes and wrappings were scattered about.

My 3 year old twins were nestled snug in their beds

while I grabbed a cup of coffee and rested my head.

Dad was at work to keep the wolf from the door.

And that evening we had planned to celebrate some more.

When what to my listening ears should I hear…

But the giggles and whispers of happy toddler cheer.

Race cars vroomed and blocks careened.

But I left them alone. It was Christmas, you see.

When an hour had passed I crept to the door.

Never  had they been so self-entertained before?

I opened the door ready to join in the fun,

but the horrible scene made me turn, gag, and run!

In the center of the room lay a pile of poop!

They had used it to decorate every inch of the room!

Stuffed animals were smeared from their heads to their paws,

the rugs finger painted, poo in the dinosaur’s claws!

Poop was on everything. I was almost certain.

Even the holiday garland that decorated their curtain.

Their poop stained hands showed evidence of their guilt

and they beamed up so proud of the poop palace they’d built.

I was dizzy from the stench that was filling my nose.

I opened my mouth and lost all repose.

Quickly two poop-a-trators were sent straight to the shower.

Where sterilization took almost an hour!

They’d both been potty trained for over 6 months.

The shame of it all was almost too much.

Time-out on the couch; Santa’s loot was locked away.

There they both sat. Twas the price they would pay.

Dad rushed home and Mom grabbed the mops.

They headed to ground zero with their trusty Clorox.

Carpet shampooed, curtains into the machine,

disinfection with Clorox is always a breeze.

We scrubbed and we scoured faster and faster

and soon we were victors of a poop disaster.

We sprang to the children, to each gave a stern speech.

 Then a baby pull-up was placed upon each.

They said they were sorry for the mess they had made.

So we fed them dinner and a game we all played.

But I heard one exclaim, as we put them to bed,

“Bubba, we don’t put poop on the teddybear’s head!”