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

It was as beautiful a spring morning as ever was. A ray of sun filtered through Erin’s kitchen window spotlighting the telephone handset resting on the table. The two friends were uncharacteristically quiet as they sipped their coffee and the cat curled up on Ellen’s lap.

The phone rings and time seems to slow down as Ellen grabs Erin’s hand. “Well, answer it. You know your voicemail is full and they won’t be able to leave a message,” Ellen says.

Erin punches the button and lifts it to her ear. Even so, Ellen can hear, “Congratulations, your loan has been approved.” The radiant smile on Erin’s face confirms what she overheard. Ellen leaps to her feet, unceremoniously tipping the cat to the floor, to give her friend a hug.

Ellen proclaims, “Halleluiah, the kids can their get school pictures taken!”

Erin- Well at least that is how it feels. I have FIVE kids. Five kids, people. And my father who adores school pictures. I take beautiful shots of my kids at the beach and the park. They are natural and expressive photographs and he likes them, but he LOVES the pictures taken by “professionals” in front of official backgrounds. 

Ellen- You mean the lapis lazuli vomit swirl background? Really?

Erin- Something about the official-ness of it must speak to his judicially ordered heart. And we get the full package for him: the 8 x10 for the homestead stairwell and the 5 x7 for the courthouse office.

Ellen – Well, at least someone likes them. I swear I spend a fortune every year, and they just sit in my china cabinet undistributed because they just aren’t a good product. (And, honestly, I let some things slip through the cracks.) I just feel so guilty if I don’t purchase them for some reason, like I’m making some larger public statement about how much I love and value my kids.

Erin- I got your guilt. This, from Eddie’s preschool teacher, who nunned me up real good: “Just because he is the fifth child doesn’t mean you shouldn’t buy the picture package.”  

Ellen – Ouch!

Erin- Oh, it gets better. I caved and paid for the pictures.  Then. . .

Sister Mary Tarnish-My-Tiara says, “Everyone had wonderful pictures! You are going to be so excited to see them.” Long pause. “Except for Eddie. We had to take his picture 35 times, and the entire class was late to library because of it.”

Ellen- Did you get the bonus didn’t-want-to-make-eye-contact-staring-awkwardly-and-silently-at-the-ground pantomime from the rest of the moms because you were being scolded? By a nun.

Erin- But the end result was just as I predicted: a sourpuss picture of a disgruntled preschooler. I can get that any day of the week  just by telling him no. I don’t need it staring out of a frame at me.

Ellen -  I know that look. He seems to get it when we mention blogging, too. Poor tortured 4 year old.

Erin –  But the real subliminal message to the world that we might not have our shizz together comes when the third grader wears his sports goggles in the class picture. That’s right. My sons, the future Rhodes Scholars, decided to play war THE NIGHT BEFORE class pictures, and, as any parent with 15 minutes of experience could tell you, things got ugly. And fast.

Luckily, the only casualties were Deacon’s glasses and my patience.

Ellen- Luckily, really!?! That seems to be an understatement, Pollyanna.

Erin- Okay, we weren’t really lucky. Deacon’s eyes cross without his corrective eyewear, so a pic without glasses was never an option. I called the optometrist! But, denied! I can still hear them chuckling at the ridiculousness of my emergency request of making super special prescription glasses in 30 minutes. That’s right. I could hear THEM sharing the can-you-believe-what-this-crazy-mom-just-asked laugh—it was worthy of a group giggle.

My last resort without time or luck on our side were his sports goggles. His big, black, thick goggles complete with strap around the back. While I may cherish this picture and the fond, fond memories it brings, the other moms definitely looked askance at me afterward. And offered up fashion advice. Lots of it.

Erin models the goggles. Saying, "Not tonight honey," without saying a word.

Ellen – The pressure of the class picture can make you crack. And you just keep telling yourself that message is subliminal. Those bad boys shout out, “This family is really just a steaming ball of hot mess.” Those pictures can’t be hidden in the china closet. They are up for worldwide distribution.

Erin- No one is feeling you more than me right now, Sister. 

Ellen- There is the whole what to wear thing EVEN when there is no vanity involved.  I’m not talking prissy girls throwing tantrums because they don’t have a shirt to perfectly match the blue of their eyes. I’m talking school-wants-to-make-everything-a-pain-in-my tuckus -because-no-one can-crosscheck-a-calendar.

School Admins: Ruining Mornings Since Little House on the Prairie

Erin – I’m just gonna say it OUT LOUD: Jostens and Lifetouch are the cartels, but the schools are the Dr. Evil kingpins pulling the strings and making us dance.

Ellen – For real! For the spring round of pictures, Jellybean (11) got the form for the April 13^th pictures on April 10^th. After coming off of spring break, this did not jump to the top of my priority list.

Flash to the morning of pictures and Jellybean comes down dressed like a hobo ready to clean out the garage.

“Honey, today is picture day. Why are you wearing old sweat pants?”

Jellybean-“Because it is the fitness test today in gym.”

Seriously, I’m shelling out $30 for pictures (cheapest substantial package) and the school scheduled the fitness test on the same day?

“Honey, they are taking the CLASS picture today. We can’t have you distributed to multiple households looking like a refugee. Or like one of Erin’s offspring. What about that cute dress you wore on vacation?”

Jellybean- (possibly a little tearful from me calling her a refugee) “But we have to do push-ups, pull-ups, and sit-ups. I can’t wear a skirt!”

Ellen- “So what time is gym?”

Jellybean – “First period.”

Of course it is. (In elementary school, they don’t get to change for gym.)

Ellen- “So you’re telling me that no matter what you wear, you’ll be a hot mess anyway by the time pictures roll around?”

Oy.

Ellen- So tick tock goes the clock, we go upstairs and settle on a embellished tank with a sweater, jeans, and Converse. Whatever, I surrender. The kicker? The gym teacher was absent so the fitness test was cancelled. Winner? The school for messing up my morning for no reason except its own evil entertainment.

Erin –  Seriously, we have 7 kids between us so the complaints reminiscing could go on forever. Let’s not forget that school pictures cornered you into highlighting Coco’s hair. But you do have to love the comedy in school pictures, too.

Check out Captain America, known in his school picture days simply as Chris Evans on Late Night With Jimmy Fallon.

Ellen – Okay, WOW!  I’m not the biggest fan of watching videos on blogs that are over 40 seconds long, but that is some good stuff right there: a rebellious laser beam background, a beaded necklace, and a bowl cut. And if Captain America overcame THAT, I’m impressed.

Erin – Oh wait a minute. WHAT ABOUT WHAT WE OVERCAME!

Ellen – Are we really doing this?

Erin – I modeled the sports goggles. My pride is not an issue for this post.

Erin

Ellen – One of the first things Erin said when she handed me this picture? “Can you believe they didn’t even straighten my necklace?” Yes, that was exactly the first thing I was incredulous about.

Erin – Whatever. Your turn.

Ellen – I’m actually proud about how far I have come.

Erin – You should be.

Ellen's 7th Grade Picture. Believe me, the resolution is good enough.

Ellen – So clearly Erin is classier than me. I chose the group picture because I was not going down alone. We will close with Josten’s Mission Statement because, really, I would like for the whole blogosphere to tell them to suck it.

Jostens’ Mission Statement

Supporting your mission is our mission.

We take great care in passionately helping people:

Express themselves

Celebrate experiences and traditions

Recognize achievements

Share their stories

Erin – Just one more thing I would like to add: Creating images that will cause your offspring to roll on the floor laughing at you with glee in their eyes. Have at them, Blogosphere!

As Erica M, the curator of Yeah Write Me, has said before, her site is like the water cooler of the blogosphere. It’s where solid writers go to hang out and share their stories. Click on the badge to come and visit the gang. Or if you are in time, you can link up your own story.

We are hooking up with Yeah Write #47 this week. Great blogs, great writers, great fun! Check it out!

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 8^th 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.”