Not Me Monday courtesy of MckMama!

I did NOT get my tubes UNtied last week.

And NO, of course NOT, I was NOT higher than a kite.

In subtraction, I did NOT have a procedure called Uterine Ablation.

My doctor did NOT describe this as "cooking tissue with charcoal, kind of like a smoker thing".

I did NOT then ask him,

NO,

I did NOT,

NO

I could NOT,

NO

I would NOT:

"Hey, can you stick a Boston Butt up there and smoke it for us? I mean, while you're in there?"

NOPE.

NOT me.

Jews Boxes

~

Today, Captain Jake Sparrow asked me to read him a bible story.

Of course I complied.

Moments like these are few and far between.

Usually he's asking me to help him to set the dog on fire. Not because he doesn't like the dog. But because he's Jake.

So I'm reading him a story about Israel.

I ask him, "Jake, do you know what Israel is?"

"Nope".

"Well. It is where the Jews come from. Did you know Jesus was a Jew?"

Captain: "Nope. But I know that when Jesus was a little tiny baby, he drank Jews Boxes, just like I do."

Jews Boxes?

Oh...........

JUICE Boxes.......

Yeah.

Jake Cowell

~

So we're American Idol fanatics in this tribe.

If you're not a fan, check back tomorrow, because this might bore you, or just fast forward to the Captain's commentary at the end.

We've been watching since Season One, the year of Kelly Clarkson, when I was pregnant with Reilly the Red.

Last year, the finale was, shall we say, difficult for Captain Jake Sparrow.

He couldn't understand how his favorite guy, Michael Johns, was voted off, then appeared again at the finale.

When David Cook won, he started to cry, thinking Michael Johns was given a second chance.

And Reilly the Red was screaming and crying because David Archuleta didn't win.

And it didn't help matters at all that I correctly (as always) predicted 13 weeks prior that David Cook was going to take the damn thing.

Nor did it help that I did the David-Cook-won-American-Idol-and-your-guy-didn't-while-I-smacked-my-fat-butt-dance.

Yes, we are SICK competitive. SICK - in the words of Judge #4, Kara.

So tonight.........

We are picking our favorites, and making our finale bets.

Captain Jake Sparrow is remarking how pretty the girls are.

And I started to engage, with, "Really? Are they Really Pretty?"

Captain: "Yeah, Mom. They're pretty. You're pretty sometimes. But only when you wear makeup and pretty dresses."

UnPretty Mom: "So I'm not pretty right now?"

Captain: "No."

(shakes his head violently)

"Not right now."

Not Me Monday courtesy of MckMama!

Oh how I wish this Not Me Monday were Not.

Today, I did NOT miss church because of a NOT sick kid.

In my absence, Billy Two Swords did NOT accompany Captain Jake Sparrow.

At church, my very good friend Miss Karen did NOT give Billy Two Swords a gift of in-process Amish bread for me.

She did NOT include a sample of freshly baked bread.

Upon receiving said GIFT, I was NOT extremely UN-gracious.

I did NOT immediately assume that this was NOT some silly chain of bread baking.

I did NOT actually curse Miss Karen under my breath.

I was NOT thinking "I can NOT participate in the baking of bread and sharing with friends."

NOT ME.

I did NOT call Miss Karen and ask her why she was NOT mad at me.

Miss Karen did NOT respond, "Why? For NOT giving you BREAD?"

I was NOT selfish at all today.

I did NOT look a gift horse in the mouth.

I could NOT possibly be so obtuse as to ask a dear friend "WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU NOT BE SO UN-KIND AS TO NOT GIVE ME A LOAF OF BREAD?"

No.

I would NEVER do such a thing.

I could NOT possibly be such a jerk.

I do NOT still feel terrible, seven hours later.

NOT ME.

Unthankfully, Miss Karen does NOT know me enough to NOT forgive me and NOT love me in spite of myself.

Whew.

Oh, and by the way....

The bread was disgusting. It was the worst bread I have ever tasted in my life. I can't imagine how this recipe has lasted for generations upon generations.

NOT.

Tattoed Biker Outlaws

~
It's Bike Week in Daytona Beach this week.

Aunt Debbie was here today.

By the time she was gone, she had Reilly and Jake convinced that getting a tattoo is fine, it's supercool, and they can get whatever they want needle-inked to the body part of their choice.

Only time will tell what, if any, effect she will have on my innocent babies.

She's older than me, but she's bigger than me, and she's meaner than me, and she could definitely kick my tuckus all over the southern hemisphere.

But alas, Aunt Debbie is gone. Headed back to reality after her big bike week trip.

Hopefully my kids will survive yet another visit with crazy Aunt Debbie. Ya just got to love her!

~

The Ties that Bind

~

Reilly the Red continues to amaze me with the things she is able to do. Not just her many abilities, but the RANGE of her abilities is astonishing.

She can:

1). Drive the boat

2). Bait her own hook

3). Cast her own line

4). Catch her own fish

5). Drive a go-kart

6). Complete Algebra problems that BOTH of her parents struggle with (at SIX)

7). Make her bed

8). Put her clothes away

9). Paint her own toenails (with PRE-APPROVED colors)

10). Write and illustrate her own books

11). Present a convincing argument better than most prosecutorial attorneys

12). Surf the internet on PRE-APPROVED websites to do research on topics she is interested in

13). Play the chimes like a pro, even though she's a rookie

14). Bend her knees, thumbs, and elbows into contortions that God and nature didn't intend

15). Provide excellent assistance as a sous-chef

16). Minister to people who are sick or needy with prayer, cards, and hugs

17). Take pictures with a 'real' (meaning, MOM's) digital camera

18). Scrapbook like mad, including journaling

19). Beat the pants off her entire family with every Wii game we own

20). Swim like a fish and dive like a dolphin

But............

There is one thing she can't do that perplexes us. I am certain that we have failed her as parents.

My cool, smart, chic, hip little girl cannot TIE HER OWN SHOES.

Even with all the lessons, and the practice, and the little "Learn How to Tie Your Shoes" book.

She still doesn't get it.

So here's where the parental failure comes in.

Yes, both Billy Two Swords and I are perfectly capable of tying our own shoes and those of the bambinos.

But we have circumvented our child's deficiency by buying her Vans. The shoes that do not require tying.

And since we live in Florida, she's either barefoot or in flip-flops when she's not in school.

Except for the days she whips out the smoking hot black leather boots, of course.

And really, how is this shoe-tying deficiency going to hold her back? Especially if she learns how to tie the knots necessary for boating?

I'm really hoping that when she goes to medical school, and they teach her how to tie sutures, that this will all click in her head, and at 23 she'll figure out how to tie her own shoes.

So does this make us BAD parents for giving up, or BRILLIANT parents for finding a way to make it work?

~

Contraband

~

I have a beautiful, intelligent, sensitive, thoughtful, artistic daughter.

Beautiful, intelligent, sensitive, thoughtful, artistic.

Did I mention that she is beautiful, intelligent, sensitive, thoughtful, and artistic?

And SNEAKY.

Yep.

SNEAKY.

Sometime last year, she began to "sneak" things into Kindergarten. It started with toys.

We were trying to instill in her the idea that ELEMENTARY school is not PRE-School. Because in PRE-school, they are allowed to bring toys.

Somehow, our "Growing Kids God's Way" mentality backfired. I'm sure we did something wrong. Because she started to SNEAK things into her pockets and her backpack.

No, she wasn't SNEAKING knives, or guns (see earlier post regarding Captain Jake Sparrow), or explosives.

Just beanie babies or lipgloss or her brother's toys (not guns).

I thought we had nipped this behavior in the bud when I forced her to spread her hands and legs against a wall at her school, IN FRONT OF ALL OF HER PEERS, and patted her down and searched her backpack.

Oh boy was she humiliated.

This public searching went on for exactly one week.

The sneaking of contraband stopped.

For awhile.

And now it's back.

Last week, she SNUCK her Ipod shuffle in her backpack. And got busted.

This morning at the bus stop, Billy Two Swords noticed she had a little watch with candy gum in it, stuffed into her pocket.

He commenced with the public searching for contraband.

She ended up boarding the bus, crying, and screaming, "You give me NO mercy!"

I am still laughing.

And really concerned about the contraband sneaking at SIX.

Ugh.

~

Step Away From the Car

~

I just said the following to Captain Jake Sparrow:

"PUT....THE......GUN...............DOWN."



Yep, he's four.

Yep, I'm in big trouble in t-minus 12 years and counting.

Yep, he becomes his father's responsibility once he turns 16.

Yep, we're married, and will still be married when the Captain turns 16.

Yep, I'm in complete and utter denial.

Yep.

~

I'm It

Thanks for tagging me, Niki.

Except I am still so new at blogging, that I still haven't figured out how to embed links. Live and Learn the Hard Way tried to help me eons ago, but I'm really not a techie.

But I'll play your game nonetheless.

Here are six weird things about me:

1). I count things. By sevens. Like Rain Man. Seven steps at a time. Seven breaths at a time. Seven stairs at a time. Seven. Don't know why. Just do.

2). I love peanut butter and bacon. I dare you to try it.

3). My brain is so small that I cannot embrace fantasy-based fiction. I don't consider it plausible, therefore I deem it unreadable and unwatchable. Period. End of story.

4). I love conflict. I don't seek it, but I embrace it. Most of the time, it makes me laugh. Unfortunately most of my friends (including my husband) are conflict avoiders. Therefore, I don't get much of an opportunity to fight. But when I do.....get outta my way! As long as I think there is a chance to persuad you, I will debate for hours. When I realize I am either in over or my head, or there is a slight chance I am wrong, I will stop. My motto is, if I'm willing to bet a kidney that I'm right, then you are most definitely wrong.

5). I am not as funny as I think I am. Sigh.

6). I did not consume alcohol until I was 29. I've been making up for lost time ever since.

Not Me Monday courtesy of MckMama!

I did NOT enjoy watching Madagascar 2.

I did NOT wholly support my children as they sang and danced to the Hippo love song:

"I Like 'Em Big.....I Like 'Em Chunky"

In the days since that viewing, I have NOT slapped my own very UN-wide butt and then NOT moved it and grooved it into my kids' faces while singing:

"I Like 'Em Big.....I Like 'Em Chunky"

I did NOT shove two deliciously greasy cheeseburgers into my own piehole while singing:

"I Like 'Em Big.....I Like 'Em Chunky"

Nope.

Not Me.

Not Ever.