2012

I don't make New Years resolutions. Okay, so I used to. And I thought about it this year, but then I decided i'd be better off NOT doing it. The last time I made a NYR was, oh...2 years ago, maybe? At that time, my biggest one was to not go out of the house looking like a homeless yoga reject. You know--yoga pants, t-shirt, flip flops, no makeup, and a cap (because i didn't fix my hair). I've looked like that for...oh, heck...probably since 2005 when i started working from home full time. So, two years ago, I decided that I would not go in public wearing yoga pants. Excuse me while I laugh. Sorry...resolution FAIL right there, people. Yoga pants manufacturers should be sending me free crap, because that's all I wear. I have to go to Vegas for work in a few days, and my boss told me I can't wear yoga pants. I thought about quitting for a moment.

I HAVE started wearing makeup. Sometimes. Clear mascara counts, right? I mean, really--where do I go? I take my kid to gymnastics. Yep, that's pretty much the extent of me getting out. I'm crazy like a fox. I guarantee you my gym-mom friends don't care what I look like. In fact, when I DO put on makeup and/or fix my hair, they're all, "WOW! You look so nice today!" It's usually because I brushed my hair. We have an unspoken code of appreciation. If you have kids, and you found time to brush your hair, then you are AMAZING and you should be shown massive amounts of appreciation. I like my gym-mom friends. I like to think that because i'm a mom, I work full-time, and I brushed my hair, that I should get an award. Like a case of gold bouillon or something similar.

I like to have New Year's "thoughts." Not so much resolutions, but things i'll think about doing, so then if I don't, it's no big whoop. I thought about making dinner every night. That didn't last very long. As soon as I ran out of those fancy crock-pot liners and had to clean the crock pot by hand, I gave up on that crap. Besides, my kids love waffles for dinner. What? They're organic and have flax seed in them, and they don't use syrup. That's how we roll.

Really really

My children are growing up too fast. I know...it's so cliche, isn't it.. (Don't you like how I have NO idea how to put an accent over the 'e'?) to say that, I mean. You hear it all the time, and honestly, I find it freakin' annoying when other people tell me that. And by other people, I mean my mother. My mom tells me this all. the. time. The girls will be arguing about something, and i'll yell, "BE QUIET!!" Mom will look at me and say, "One day, you're going to miss that noise." I call bullcrap on that one. I don't think any mother sighs and thinks, "I really miss the sounds of my kids beating the hell out of each other." I KNOW i will miss the sounds of their laughter--except when they're supposed to be sleeping and I'm tired, and for the-love-of-God-will-you-just-stop-talking-and-go-to-sleep. No, I won't miss THAT. I'll miss the laughter that ensues when the cat comes running out of their room, and they've adorned him with Build-a-Bear pants. Or, the riotious giggles that come when they use their fancy microphone to sound like 'mump-a-chi-kins' ('munchkins' in Claire-ese). Yes, THOSE are the things I miss.

Recently, I'm missing those baby faces. I've been slacking in the "yearly" photo department. I mean, REALLY slacking. Don't get me wrong, I take pictures of the girls a lot--but they're simply snapshots--not "it's a new year and we have to chronicle it" pictures. So yesterday, they had the day off of school, I had the day off of work, and we ventured out--the girls in their favorite outfits, myself armed with my camera and reflector board.

First stop, the train tracks, 2nd stop the park. It was fun. The girls were scared to death to get on the train tracks. Clairey played sentinel while I took Jen's pics, an vice versa. They heard the far-off whistle of a train and scampered off the tracks--no train in sight. As I stood there, Clairey yelled, "Mommy!! There's a train coming! I heard it! GET OFF THE TRACKS!!!" As I took my time, they proceeded to freak out. Although, like I mentioned, no train in sight. So, I did what any mother would do--I sat on the track and fiddled with my camera. hahaha! I'm so evil. After they screamed for a while, I got off the track.

So, here are a few of them...

My sweet girls--probably mere moments before bickering over something stupid...


And here is where I begin to cry... Jenna walked into my office as I was uploading these, and I just sat there...my hand over my mouth. "What's wrong, mom?" she asked. "This picture really hurts," I whispered.
"It hurts? Why?"
"Because you are so grown--you don't even look like a little girl."
"So it really hurts?"
"Yes, it hurts my heart..."
"Really?"
"Really, really."

And these freckles....how will I ever deal with this one growing up? This is my baby!! And I don't care what any one says--"Cute as a button" my butt. I've never seen a button this damn cute.

My little miss smarty pants. Never wants to smile, but is so lovely all the same.

My little presh. I could look at that profile all day. Nom nom nom.

STOP GROWING, PLEASE.

Pride. And i'm not talking about lions.

Jenna, as low-key as she is (in regards to Clairey), often surprises me. I mean, she's done sneaky things before--telling me that she hasn't had candy, when she has; telling me she'll practice piano then I find out that she conveniently forgot, etc. But yesterday, she did something that made me very happy.

When the girls got off the bus yesterday (Tuesday), Clairey announced, "Jenna and so-and-so were arguing on the bus, and now so-and-so doesn't like her and is mad at her." [Italics in place of a name, people.] Now, the thing about Jen is that she DOESN'T argue. Well, not with anyone but us. She will RARELY argue with anyone outside of family, and if she does, there's usually a good reason behind it. Like, someone says that cheetahs suck or that Santa's not real, or something like that.

Come to find out, that Jen's friend wanted to see her two new dolls that she got for Christmas. Jenna told her, "I'm not allowed to bring toys to school," and her friend told her to just put them in her school bag without my knowing and bring them to school. Oooooo....sneaky.

[Back-up a day--Monday night: Jenna asked me if she could bring her dolls to school to show so-and-so. I told her, no, that she knows she's not allowed to bring toys to school. She agreed and that was that. She said she DID, however, put the dolls in her bag. Then she got smart and removed them.]

So, back to Tuesday: On the bus, this little girl asked Jen, "Where are your dolls?" and Jenna said, "My mom told me I can't bring toys to school." The little girl got mad at Jen because she thought Jenna told me about 'the plan.' Jen, on the other hand, hadn't said a THING to me about the plan. And, according to the bus driver, as that little girl sat there and told Jenna that she wasn't going to be her friend anymore (because she tattled on her), Jenna defended herself by saying, "But it's wrong! My mom said i'm not allowed to bring toys to school!" Two thumbs up.

So, Jenna told me the whole plan, and why this friend was mad at her. I used it as a lesson, and made sure that I told her THIS is what it's all about--following your heart, and doing what's right. Which is listen to your mommy, lest you get beat.

New Year, new post

So sorry about the lack of posts--our schedules are absolutely insane around here!! One of my New Year's resolutions: get our schedules organized!!

However, let's get this year kicked off right with a little Claireyism...

Last Thursday, the girls had a substitute bus driver. When I hear the bus stop, I go to the front door to welcome the girls home--or, if they look to be in pissy moods, to lock the front door so they can't get in.
The bus drove by our house, then came to a screeching halt a bit past the neighbor's. The girls get out, and run towards home. Clairey looks exasperated. Let me preface this by saying Clairey is NOT pc.

Me: "What's up? How was your day?"
Clairey: --big sigh-- "Asians do NOT know how to drive!"
Me: "What? Why do you say that?"
Clairey: "Seriously. Our substitute bus driver was Asian and he didn't know which pedal was the gas and which one was the brake!"
Me: "How do you know this?"
Clairey: "Because the WHOLE time, it was like, stop...GO...stop...GO!! My neck was going back and forth! It was SO annyong."

I would also like to say that I have NEVER said anything about Asian drivers. This kid makes this crap up herself.

So, later, we go to the post office. I'm cruising through the parking lot, and this car just backs out right in front of us, causing me to slam on my brakes. I just said, "Jeez, guy!!" Clairey, on the other hand, keeps watching the car as it pulls out and drives past us, then says, "YEP!! I knew it!! Asian! See mom? I TOLD YOU."

Virginia: More than a state

In the shower this evening, Clairey looks at me and asks, "Mom, is a peachie [what we call 'girl' parts] really called a 'Vir-ZHEN-ia'?" And, because i'm an excellent mother and lie to my children often, I said yes. She looked concerned for a moment.

"Virzhenia, eh? Hmmm...I always thought that was a state."

"It IS a state," I said. Of course, I had to turn my face into the shower because I was trying so hard to keep a straight face.

Still concerned, she says, "Wow, that really stinks for the people that live there."

Then, piping up from the other room, comes Jenna's voice: "It's not a 'vir-ZHEN-ia! It's a 'vir-zhEYEn-ia'!" Yeah, I didn't correct that one either.

Vagina, Virginia, Virzhenia,Virzheyenia--it's all the same. And, according to Clairey, "You can hurt Virzhenia by littering--so don't litter. Oh, and you can hurt your virzhenia, too--like if you fall off your bike or something."

So take note people--don't litter, and don't fall off your bike.