Comic relief

There's no story to this.  Just had to share.

xoxo
Deb

For Chrissee

Whenever I question whether or not I am Bree's actual mother all I have to do is watch her in a shoe store. Trust me, she's mine. Girl loves her some shoes.

How stinking cute are these? Not sure if you can tell from the picture, but the all-pink ones are very sparkly. Those are the ones that she wore on the first day of school that helped to spark new friendships.

Please note, she wore the blue ones today and also received compliments.

xoxo

Deb

School Dazed

Yup. The picture says it all. Despite my best efforts, Bree is in preschool. I tried locking her in her room and barricading the door with stuffed animals and outgrown clothing, but Jason fought his way through and rescued his princess. Damn him.

The preschool she's attending eases the little ones (and their parents) into the year with short sessions with only half the class for the first day but Bree already made a friend. Due to my insane need to be on time for everything (it's genetic, I can't count how many family weddings for which my parents and I arrived at the church before the priest. Thanks, Mom!), we were twenty minutes early. Eventually Bree's classmates and their parents began arriving and the last to show up was a little girl with long dark curls. We'd never seen her before but she and Bree must have known that they were kindred spirits. They looked at each other, squealed and ran to one another. Bree told her that she had pretty hair and that she liked her shirt (red with puppies.) Bree's new friend, Gabriella, returned the compliments focused on Bree's shoes (which really are quite awesome) and her Princess backpack. They then each giggled, jumped up and down a couple of times and each ran back to their parents. They then ran back to meet again and repeated the compliments. And then each returned to their respective starting points. To then run back and repeat the compliments. And then... you get the picture.

The teachers took pity on us after about seventeen renditions of "Bree meets Gabriella" and let us into the classroom. Bree played with play-do and when it was time to sit in a circle she first had to HELP THE TEACHER CLEAN UP THE PLAY-DO. That's right, the child that won't pick up a single toy at home helped a complete stranger clean up. Circle time went pretty much as I expected. Bree sat down for 3.8 seconds, got bored and left the circle to go play, very quickly demonstrating to her three teachers and the rest of the parents present why her nickname is "Chaos." I so enjoy the looks of complete and total pity that I routinely receive from total strangers courtesy of my beloved children.

Nick has also begun school again. Surprisingly, his teachers didn't retire or go into a witness-protection program to avoid him, so there wasn't much new for Nick this year. Same classroom, same teachers, but a couple a new-to-Nick students. I tried to explain why some of his classmates from last year weren't in his class any longer. He got bored and walked away from me while I was in mid-explanation. That happens a lot with Nick. His main source of concern is that the "marble-toy" hasn't made a reappearance in his class yet. Whenever I try to talk to him about school he reminds me of the missing marble toy and mutters in a very grumpy, threatening voice about "needing to have a talk" with his teachers about this. I kid you not. And while I did get plenty of shots of him with his eyes open for the annual first day of school picture, this one cracks me up, so this is the one I'm posting.

xoxo
Deb

p.s. For my fellow Fantasy Football-playing friends and loved ones: Based on having a couple of Saints on my fantasy team, I'm starting a petition to have them stripped of the Vince Lombardi trophy. 'Nuff said.

Passport Picture Drama

Jason, Chaos, Mayhem and I needed to get passports for an upcoming vacation. Seems like a simple enough undertaking... fill out the forms, get the pictures taken, take out a second mortgage to pay for the passports and go order them. Seems easy, right?

Yeah, you haven't tried to get pictures taken of Chaos and Mayhem, have you now?

I went first, by myself, to Walgreens to have my picture taken so I could explain to my little darlings what to expect. (Please note, any terms of endearment used in this entry towards my childen is completely and fully sarcastic.)

A couple of days later, I take my cherubs to Walgreens and go to the photo counter. I explain to the two very nice ladies that I need to get passport pictures taken of my son and daughter. The two nice ladies look at the kids. The kids smile back sweetly at the ladies. One goes and gets a stool for them to sit on and the other gets the camara ready.

At this point it started going downhill. Mayhem sees a toy that he wants to look at and I, who uses every opportunity possible to bribe him into good behavior, explains that he can look at it once he has had his picture taken. Insert Mayhem temper-tantrum here. Chaos, not be be outdone, adds her shrieks. After a few minutes they got tired of screaming and started hitting each other. A display of stuffed animals got knocked down at some point. The nice lady with the stool was now holding the stool in the manner of a lion tamer, trying to keep my angels away from inflicting any bodily harm to her.

I AM NOT EXAGGERATING.

I give up. Take the kids home. Start researching military preschools. Jason decides that we'll give it another try and the four of us head back to Walgreens. Same two nice ladies. Same stool. Stuffed animals display was once again upright.

Guess what? The kids behaved perfectly. Jason looked at me and acutally said "I don't know what the problem was, they're fine."

Yup. I hit him with the stool.

When I went back later to pick up the pictures, the two nice ladies were describing our two visits to another lady. They were all laughing. I don't think the first two ladies are so nice any longer.

xoxo
Deb

Demolition Dergy Update

It would appear that the demolition derby we attended (see previous post) also made an impression on Chaos & Mayhem.

I'm currently attempting to pack for a long get-away weekend to Ocean City. Jason is at work so I'm encouraging the kids to amuse themselves. They are. Nick has created his own demolition derby with his monster trucks and it is being attended by the inhabatants of her various dollhouses and a couple random Disney Princesses.

xoxo
Deb

Career Change

After careful thought and consideration, I have decided that it's time to embark on a new career. I've liked working in advertising and media but I've discovered something I love. I'm going to become a demolition derby driver. Anyone who has seen the condition of my Mazda would agree that I clearly have the driving skills required.


Jason only has his brother, Aaron, to thank for my new career path. For many years Aaron, his wife, Julie, and their various and sundry offspring go to the Cecil County Fair and attend the demolition derby. And for many years, they've asked us to join them. This year, we finally relented. Actually, I decided that Nick would go with Jason while I stayed home with Bree. The conversation went something like this:

ME: "So, you go with him."

Jason: "No, you go."

ME: "No, you go."

Jason: "No, you go."

After about 30 minutes of this, it was decided that perhaps Bree might enjoy the derby as well. Actual discussion: ME: (Literally throwing hands up in the air) "Fine! We'll all go."

And we had a blast. Nick spent the entire derby screaming, "This is SO awesome! I LOVE IT!" Bree was fine as long as she sat in someones lap and they didn't cheer too enthusiastically. Which meant she sat on Nana the whole time.

The only negative was once we were packed into the car to go home, Nick sadly looked at the little toy car that he had carefully selected to come with him to the derby and said, "I didn't get to drive."

I know, Nick. I feel the same way.

xoxo

Deb

Membership = Rocketship?

In my neverending quest to find ways to entertain and occupy Chaos & Mayhem, I have become a big fan of the Delaware Children's Museum.


http://www.delawarechildrensmuseum.org/


A bored child is a scary thing. A bored Chaos usually ends up with marker drawings on everything in sight, including herself and the dog. I'm not making that up. A bored Mayhem generally results in a trip to an emergency room. Okay, that's a slight exaggeration. We usually only end up at a minor medical emergency facility. Or they wedge a limb into one of their toys. Or wedge a toy up their nose. These are NOT exaggerations.

Anyway, based on a couple of trips to the DCM, I purchased a family membership. Nick was especially excited by this purchase and has been explaining what a
membership is to Bree. I happened to actually listen to one of these conversations. Somehow, in Nick's mind, a memberSHIP is the same thing as a rocketSHIP. I've since tried explaining that they are two different things and have not had much success convincing Nick that he does not actually have access to a rocketship. My first problem is trying to explain what a membership is to a four-year-old. My next problem is that Bree keeps packing for her trip on Nick's rocketship. I think I'll leave this one to Jason.

xoxo
Deb