Very rarely do the planets align to create a perfect family day, but we had one this summer when Steve and I took our kids for a little impromptu tour of my hometown. No fighting, no whining, and no unpleasantness whatsoever—-it was the trifecta of family harmony.
But all good things must come to an end.
Because I was hopped up on the good vibes AND our happy jaunt around town landed us in front of the old courthouse AND it was the exact spot where Steve and I had some wedding photos taken 16 years ago, I wanted evidence. Of course, whipping out the DSLR caused some kind of shift in the universe, and things started to unravel. And quickly. Don’t look for those photos on our Christmas card this year.
Always the one to add some gasoline to the inferno, I thought it would be a swell idea to take some photos for the blog too. I mean, the sky was blue, the air was perfect, and my kids were self-combusting—what better time to catch some photo ops? But my kids are pros now at posing as the faceless wonders, so that part of the shoot went just fine. I didn’t really think of those pictures again. Then earlier this week, I came upon this photo.
I don’t care what their teachers say. My boys are geniuses, and revenge is sweet.
Well played, gentlemen. Well played.
PS–I think I can even see them giggling. I don’t know how I missed it before.
Happy Memorial Day, everyone! I hope you have had plenty of family time and have taken a moment to think about our freedom and remember all of the women and men who have secured it for us. That’s what it’s all about, right?
Erin is spending Memorial Day Weekend at the beach celebrating Ace’s 15th birthday. But I’m relaxing with my family close to home, going to some parties, doing some baking, and attacking some yard work. So there is no reason to skip Stasha’s Monday Listicle: 10 WORDS THAT DESCRIBE YOUR HOME. A girl can only haul so much mulch or bake so many cookies without a break. Quick word of advice, don’t let those two activities cross paths. Mulch in baked goods cannot be passed off as fiber.
Erin's Weekend
Ellen's Weekend. This is totally representative of my discovery of the snake skin shed in the holly bush I was trimming. No exaggeration.
So where to begin? Erin threw out this helpful email, “My house is known as command central.” Gee, I think we all can say that. Not really enough to work with. Even though I’m not rollicking on the beach, I have better things to do than create lists out of thin air.
Then there is the post we wrote about Erin’s Oasis and my counter post about The Coco Room Apocalypse. Quite frankly, they provided TOO much to work with. And since my house hasn’t been completely clean since I started blogging, I was in no mood to review Erin’s neat house techniques, albeit, they are very good and handy.
See? I'm sappier than I let on.
So I was going to copy from this canvas on my wall because Erin has a very similar one hanging in her house. But it seemed very precious and quite frankly, a little plagiarize-y. I mean, do I really want to stoop to ripping off the equivalent a Hallmark card? I may have a touch of the sappy, but I ooze with integrity. I’m Googling right now to see if there is an ointment for that.
But I was inspired! The Listicle asks for words describing our homes, not our houses. I was on the right track with the wall art, but I needed originality. Our homes are the people who fill our hearts and clog our septic systems, not the disorderly conditions of our stray sock baskets. And since you can’t get more one-of-a-kind than the people in our lives, I present without further ado…
The People Who Transform Our Houses Into Homes
(While the names have been changed per our kids’ requests, the personalities are all real.)
Erin’s Army first…
They are almost this funny. Wait, they ARE this funny.
1. Ace. My oldest son just turned 15 years old and is completing his freshman year in High School. He is a huge sports fan and plays soccer and runs track. Ace looks like my husband and acts like me. He can make friends with a light bulb. He is funny, impetuous, and confounding.
2. Biddie. Her blog name came to me, because my husband’s family is Polish. They used this nickname for his sister when she was younger, because she was small but mighty. That’s our Biddie. Thirteen years old, smart, creative, funny, and athletic, Biddie is everything I wish I was at her age.
3. Charlie. He is my 11 year old who loves soccer, Comic Books, and hats. I swear that he is either going to be the Frat President in college or its mascot. The kid is slightly cracked, but in the best possible way. Everybody loves him. One of the nicest compliments a teacher gave us about him was that of the 24 kids in his class, twenty-three of them considered him one of their best friends. He is our soft, sweet center.
4. Deacon. He was the one I had the hardest time renaming for the blog. His actual name is soooo perfectly him that it was hard to imagine him or referring to him any other way. Deacon is 8 years old and loves to build LEGOs, play soccer, and do science and art projects. At home, we sometimes call him The Hammer, because he has singular focus and knows what he wants.
5. Eddie. Eddie is a total Momma’s boy. My husband implied that his obsession might be a little more than your average bear (do you see where we are going with this? Oedipal Complex?). Eddie is 4 years old and loves Star Wars, stealing the iPad2 from his siblings, books, and hiking. He is stubborn, smart, and adorable—a deadly combo.
6. Steve. Last, but never least, is my husband of 15 years, Steve. When I told him that I was going to use military-inspired aliases for the blog and I thought that I might call him The Colonel (you know, because I am The General), he said, “I feel more like The Corporal.” He makes me laugh most days, and he is the most patient, kind person I have ever known. He’s the best. You are just going to have to trust me on this one.
Now Ellen’s Crew…
Don't worry, we only wear these pants on Thanksgiving..for the stretch. Oh and on Groundhog Day...for the style.
7. Frank. He is my soul mate and the best father I could imagine for our two girls. We have been together since he hit on me on that fraternity house lawn. I am blessed to have his support and love. He is sharp and witty and definitely lightens me up. I might be a smidge intense. I do have a tendency to tell him that he is lucky I don’t have an addictive personality, because he might be a bit of an enabler. But hey, he boosts my ego when Coco gets done with me.
8. Coco. So, Coco is nearly 14. I think she really picked the alias Cocoa because she loves chocolate, but I changed it to Coco because the girl has style. She is a preternatural force. She brought me to my knees as an infant with her colic and sometimes we question if the colic ever ended. She is a musician, an athlete, an actress, a writer, and a first class student. God gave her to me to keep me in my place. You should thank her too, because she keeps me from thinking that I am all that and a bag of chips. I am happy and blessed to know her.
9. Jellybean. She is 11. She is the least pleased with any of this blog stuff. She is a girl you want as your friend. She is kind, but not sappy, and definitely has a bit of the imp about her; just ask the cat. She is fun with a silly sense of humor, but has a well-defined BS meter. She is happy to be with a group, but can go and do her own thing without forcing the group to conform to her. She brings her determination to her sports, her Legos, and her schoolwork. Jellybean just gets it done. Her laugh has brought me joy from the first moment I heard it.
Hmmm…I ran out of family members. Seems like we didn’t have Monday Listicles in mind when we were squirting out kids. So number 1o is a bonus funny…
10. Antique White. This is something both of our families ridicule tease Erin about. She wants to paint everything in her home “Antique White,” (I know, that’s a whole different issue). She actually thinks she has painted everything “Antique White.” I, along with the entire Army and Crew, are here to tell the world, and her, once and for all: HER CHOSEN COLOR IS YELLOW!
So I guess the moral of this story is that Erin can’t suppress her sunny, positive personality with the bland and mundane, even when she tries.
Fondly, Ellen
Booooooring Antique White or Sparkling Superfly Yellow? Which do you think fits Erin best?
Now check out the other great Listicles, although I can almost guarantee they won’t contain a flying Boohbah.
This week on Monday Listicles we are following the prompt from Anna at The Mommy Padawan. She charged us with creating a list of “10 things you really like about yourself, things you are good at, or your super powers!”
We actually feel pretty good about ourselves. This defies all reason if you check out our old school pictures, but what can we say, we were late bloomers. So, hopped up on our own hubris, we decided to ask our kids what they thought was good about us.
Ellen
When I asked my kids what they liked about me, the resulting conversation felt like a rollicking three ring circus. So my list got a little out of control. I’m going to give each of my kids five things, because when you get this much sunshine blown your way, it feels like Mother’s Day.
Jellybean (11)
1. You buy us Cheez-its three boxes at a time.
Me – But what do you like about ME, beyond what I buy for you? You know, the inner me?
Jellybean – You have intestines.
That’s my girl!
2. Your fashion sense isn’t embarrassing.
Whew!
3. You do doctor stuff like healing my wounds.
4. You make great Tater Tot casserole and you stay fit.
Those two things seem kinda contradictory, don’t they?
5. You made me.
And my heart sings.
Coco (13)
1. You’re able to persevere through anything.
Wow.
2. You don’t get all uncomfortably up in my life.
3. You can parasail, rock climb, canoe, kayak, and hike.
Like a boss.
4. You are very creative with your blog.
That’s it. I need no other praise.
5. But what do you like about yourself, Mom?
Well, well.
Me – I like that I can pretty much do anything I put my mind to.
Jellybean and Coco – Yeah, we can see that.
Wow. Validation is mine, reflected back to me by my daughters’ words.
Erin
Wow. Reading Ellen’s kids’ reflections on their mom is sweet and inspiring and dear. My first thought after I asked my crew what they liked about me and heard their responses: “Huh, now I know why some animals eat their offspring.”
Sometimes Momma Bear just has to take matters into her own, er, paws!
To be fair, we were traveling in the car when I asked them, but here is the list unedited (and my crew didn’t make it anywhere close to 10!).
Me: So, what is something I do really well?
Crickets. Nada. Nothing. Then this. . .
1. Ace (14): You make great chocolate chip cookies.
Um, okay, he’s fourteen. All he thinks about is food.
2. Charlie (11): You are a great baker. You make great chocolate chip cookies.
Ok, slacker, your brother just said. . .
3. Deacon (8): Hmm, let me think. . . you make great chocolate chip cookies.
Really, boys? Where’s the love?
Now, I have heard that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but I didn’t know this applied to little men as well.
But I do make a damn, fine cookie if I say so myself.
Girl child made me feel slightly better . . .
4. Biddie (13, and my new favorite child): You are a creative writer, a good friend to everyone, you stay fit, and have a good fashion sense. Oh, and you make really good chocolate chip cookies.
Well, she is definitely fishing for something, but I’ll take it.
But the piece de resistance!! My sweet baby who still cuddles me and tells me that I am his girlfriend and the most beautiful woman alive, what does he have to say??
5. Eddie (4): You are really good at yelling at Daddy.
(I feel like I need a disclaimer here: WE WERE ON A CAR TRIP! I was driving, and Steve was being a front-seat driver.)
Seriously? Are you kidding me?? The whole car thought that was a total hoot and raucous laughter ensued.
Charlie chimed in: “No do-overs! You have to put that on the blog.”
So there you go. Ellen’s kids sound like they want to nominate her for Mother of the Year, and MY kids sound like they want me in their own little sweatshop churning out the baked goods or appearing as a guest on Maury.
It just goes to prove what I have always known: My superpower is finding the humor in anything!!
So just to recap. . .
How Ellen’s Kids See Her: ROCK STAR
My kids tell me I look like Michael Jackson
How Erin’s Kids See Her: COOKIE JAR
My Kids tell me I look like Betty Crocker
Thank you to Stasha once again for her Monday Listicles. Without her, we might not have these beautiful family moments to treasure. But, in all seriousness, she has created a lovely community of writers who start their week off “write” with a list. Great writers, great blogs—what are you waiting for?? Get over there! Erin and Ellen
Share it real good . . .
This week brought an interesting discovery in our household.
Deacon (8): “Dad, I found out I have motion sickness.”
We’d never do our kid’s homework, but papier-mâché and science projects just don’t happen on kitchen tables without some intervention and guidance.
Erin– Oy, this week may qualify as the Everest for School Projects, but I do believe we have made it to base camp. This week has been non-stop. Ellen and I have both been up to our eyeballs in school projects.
Ellen– Well, if you have been up to your eyeballs, I guess I’ve been up to my armpits. I do only have two kids to your five, after all.
Erin – For the record, when we were planning said family, nobody mentioned school projects times 5. Factor that in, people! It should be right up there with college tuition and the cost of diapers.
And I am not feeling your math on this one. The proportions don’t seem right. I have 5. You have 2. I’m not seeing a 3/5 difference between the armpits and the eyeballs.
Ellen– I was dealing with epidemiology, laminar flow patterns, and Rube Goldberg machines. I think that closes the gap.
Erin– Well, I need a drink to even pretend that I want you to expand on that.
Ellen– Remember the drinking games in college? Ah, those were the days. We had such endless hours of time that we had to create games so that drinking lasted long enough to fill them.
Erin– Ahh, those WERE the days! Loved the game “Never Have I Ever”! Somebody would start by making a statement that starts with “Never have I ever”. Then anybody who “had ever” had to drink. I remember this being one of the more structured drinking games with rules and everything. There was even moral high ground: lying was strictly forboten.
Ellen– Holy Preciousness. You all can save your eye muscles the strain of the eye roll. I have you covered. I guess they liked their drinking games with contrived Shakespearean structure at Erin’s liberal arts college.
Erin–I think it had something to do with being run by Jesuits, but I’m just guessing.
Ellen– Anyway, I went to the University of Maryland during the period when they were transitioning from being a contender on Playboy’s Top Party School List to Not-Your-Safety-School.
Our games were not structured, and the only moral high ground was not to target your best friend’s boyfriend as your next hook-up. That being said, we also played ‘Never Have I Ever,” just without the integrity.
Erin – Can you imagine if The Sisterhood crashed the party on those poor 20-somethings?
Ellen – Ooo, I’m envisioning “Never Have I Ever: The School Projects Edition.” We would either make those poor Innocents’ heads explode or exponentially increase their dedication to birth control use.
Clucking Adorable
Erin – It might go something like this:
Innocent 1: Never Have I Ever violated a farm animal.
Erin:(Take a drink) Check. I just shoved a rooster in a can.
Innocent 1: Did you just say you shoved a rooster up your can?
Table shouts: “Spill the story, spill the story.”
Erin:Puh-leez. We had to papier-mâché a rooster for a third grade character in a can project.
Innocent 1: Well, that was a lot more boring than I thought it would be.
(Sideways glances among the Innocents. A few raised eyebrows.)
Innocent 2: Never Have I Ever dabbled in bondage.
Ellen: (Takes a drink) Well, I may not technically qualify, but seeing as I already took the drink, I’m going to go for it. Yesterday, I had to scour the house for a pulley, steel cable, and duct tape so that Coco (13) could construct her Rube Goldberg machine. But, the rubric did specifically say the machine could not “imply profane, indecent, or lewd expressions,” so I’m going to take a penalty drink for game foul.
NOT Coco’s Rube Goldberg Machine
Innocent 1 whispers to Innocent 2: Wait, what did she say?
Innocent 2: I think she said that Rudy Goldberg, you know, from Econ class, puts roosters in bondage…
Innocent 3: Never Have I Ever worn knock-offs or discount. (Smirks as she pushes perfectly manicured hand through shiny, sleek hair)
Erin: (Takes a drink). Hunger games T-shirt for book report for seventh grader. Biddie(13) had to create original designs based on characters from the book, print her designs onto transfers and iron them on. They were originals, but you can’t get more discount than ink-jet transfers on Wal-Mart t-shirts.
Innocent 3: O. Kay. (looks at Innocents 1 and 2 with scarcely concealed horror)
Innocent 4: Never Have I Ever seen a musical. (Clearly lying or overcompensating for something.)
Ellen: Just hand me the bottle. I’m living in High School Musical, and Coco is only in 8th grade. Last year, Leader of the Pack: 5 times. This year, Bye Bye Birdie: 5 times. I love you, Drama, oh yes I do.
Wait, I’ll take another party foul drink, because I actually do love it.
Innocent 5: Never Have I Ever abused any balls.
Ellen: Oh Sweetie. Party foul for wince-producing flirting and/or poor attempt at double entendre. On second thought, I’ll take the drink for my snarkalicious judgment. You’re young and perky; you can totally pull off a line like that.
Erin-whispers to Ellen: But only for about 5 more years. Snicker, snicker.
Innocent 2: Slow down on the party foul drinks, Lady. After this tequila, all we have is a garbage can full of grain and Kool-Aid.
Fraternity House Punch Bowl
Erin:(Takes a drink) Hey, back off. Do you want her to start talking about the Rube Goldberg thing again? Oh, and back to the balls, fill me up, because I helped Charlie(11) cut an old foam ball in half to create a model of the animal cell.
Innocent 1: I don’t think that is what she meant…
Erin: It’s a DRINKING game (speaking slowly just in case she’s a little slow). Now pass the bottle.
Innocent 6 (clearly here only because her roommates think she spends too many Saturday nights at the library or babysitting): Never Will I Ever Force My Child to Pursue Something She is Not Passionate About.
The Sisterhood: GROAN!
Ellen and Erin: PARTY FOUL! No future tense. You don’t KNOW what you’ll do.
Ellen: Going to take two drinks for this one. Just to numb the pain. I forced Jellybean (11) to join Science Olympiad; to push her beyond her desires for perfection. I thought it was an activity where she could learn and create without worrying about the grade on the report card. But I am paying for it. I am now teaching fifth graders epidemiology.
The Sisterhood: By unanimous vote, we vetoed the idea of hitting up Red Box and just having them watch Contagion.
Innocents: Next!
Erin: Never Have I Ever built a salinometer.
All of the Innocents in unison: WHO let all of these chicks in here!?!
Ellen (Takes a drink): Score a third drink for Science Olympiad. We constructed one out of drinking straws and modeling clay. It took two hours. I could have gotten one on Amazon for $15.95 in 15 seconds. AND it was eligible for Free Super Saving Shipping. I could have added that callous buffer I’ve had my eye on to the cart and been good to go.
We love you Amazon, oh yes we do!
I have advanced science degrees and six summers working in a marine biology lab on my resume and I’m having a hard time finding the worth in this. I have to avoid eye contact with the girls when I proclaim, “This is a great learning experience.”
Innocent 4: Maybe you should say it with jazz hands. Jazz hands make everything more convincing.
Innocent 2: Yeah, you’ve never seen a musical! But more importantly, DON’T ENCOURAGE THEM!
Erin: At this point, we have finished off the bottle of tequila and have moved onto slurping up the garbage can of grain with the leftover drinking straws from the salinometer project.
The Sisterhood: Um, I think we’re about to get bounced from this shindig.
Ellen: You can throw us out, but if you procreate, we are your future.
Innocents run screaming from the room with hands over ears.
Erin: Pipe down! We’re leaving. But just be grateful we didn’t bring the “Never Have I Ever: The Midnight Feedings/Mastitis/Explosive Poops Edition.”
