So, this summer, needing constant entertainment, as well as choreographed dance routines performed to the likes of Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus, I signed the trips up for Latchkey.  Daycare at the local school.   Because, given the choice of choreographing a dance routine to songs sung by people I deny even exist or allowing someone else to,  I chose the latter.

I’ve been keeping one of the kids home on non-field trippy days.  Monday, Boog and I bought Lego-opolis and he learned new swear words.

Today, I took Felpsy shopping.  He’s the big boy so he’s always in need of clothes, while Boog, always seems to have some,  hmm?  Also, his water shoes had shrunk over the past year and he needed a new pair.  He, however, had envisioned new tennis shoes.  That little breakdown in communication turned into a screaming, crying fit in the middle of the mall.   Leading me to wonder whose idea it was to have kids in the first place.  While quickly resolved, only reminded me that they do not have individual behavior skills.  They are used to group regulation, and with the group gone….mayhem.

We ended up getting a cheap pair of flip flops, and a pair of water shoes.  Both super satisfying, and you’ll be proud of me for not being mean to the Payless person when she asked if I wanted to get a pair for myself.

Umm, have you met me?  Imelda Awesome?  Thought not.  I do not buy shoes at Payless, thankyouverymuch.

On to the shirt buying.

What do you think of this shirt?

I don’t know.  Is it  a cool kid shirt?

I like it.

Can you call Sk8rboi and ask him?

I am uncertain what the “cool kid” shirts are.  I just went through this with Radical.  He does not wear clothing that is not Sk8rboi approved.  So, I am no longer necessary in the clothing department.

In the words of Forrest, Forrest Gump…”I guess that’s one less thing.”

Speaking of shirts.  I got a new one, and there is a bit of pinkish material that sticks out on it a bit, in an interesting location.  I don’t know how many times today I caught a glimpse of myself somewhere and immediately panicked at the thought I was having a “wardrobe malfunction”.   Only then to wonder why I would think that I had left my nipple in the northeast quadrant of my boob.  duh

Still.  Got my heart racing more than once.

One of the other activities Felpsy wanted to do on his special day was to “play cooking show”  or as it’s called in most parts of the world, “cooking.”

In rounding out the all things Felpsy day, he wanted to work the remote in the living room.  Usually he has as much chance getting the remote as he does getting the keys to the nice car.   Sure, it happens, but only when I’ve been drinking.

Anyway, he surfed channels like a guy, approximately 12 channels per minute, and so as not to say a word I took a nap.  All in all it was a good day.  He even held my hand while we walked around town.

Feeling all close and not, I grabbed his hand in the parking lot of the school when we went to pick up the other two.

REJECTED.  He could not get his hand away from me fast enough.

Alright.  Point taken.

Tomorrow is a parenting recovery day.  All kids will be cared for by college students and I will be going for burritos with my friend.  All in preparation for her highness, Little Miss Sunshine herself.  Princess will be staying with me on Friday.  Guess I should get some sleep.

Speaking of Felpsy, he’s graduating from Kindergarten.  Hey sport, way to master the ABC’s and the 123’s which you already knew, and since buying a cap and gown for Kindergarten graduation would be STUPID we just need to go and buy you some “Sunday best” which is discrimanatory against heathens.  I’m not a heathen, “thank you Jesus” but we wear our swim suits to church.  A by-product of living in a coastal community and the possibility that someone may need baptizin’.

Now, over the years the school has compelled us to attend these stupid infant graduations by holding them DURING school hours.  We can’t keep our kids home from them or we’ll go to jail for intentionally allowing our kids to skip school where they (get funding) are learning (although the test is over lurnin is done).  So, if we don’t show up (skip WORK)  we look like horrible parents.  Even worse,  WE look like horrible foster parents.

So, we go.

Which brings us to the 5th grader, who is also graduating.  A bit more of an accomplishment, but I would rather mark it by tossing out all of the Sponge Bob undies than attending YET ANOTHER graduation.  But whatever.  I attended the orphans’ I will go to yours too.

The only kid still at home that is not graduating is Sk8rboi, our 17 year old.  Who is going to school, and doing as well as he ever does, and working 25 or more hours a week and doing it all without so much as a “get your arse outta bed” from me.  He’s accomplishing something.

I need to write the school board.

He’s going to feel left out and develop a complex and end up in a clock tower.

Dear school board,

It’s not fair that not everybody gets to graduate from everything.  4/5 of my children will be graduating this year and my 1/5 is being discriminated against.  Either cancel all graduations or include everyone.  It’s only fair.  Also, I would like to recommend that each year you change the colors of the caps and gowns so that I have a broad color spectrum and no one is subject to hand me downs.  I also think that $30 is a good price point to start at.  The end of the year is a good time to hit us with these extra fees, because the kids are also going to lots of field trips and such because, as you know, standardized tests are over by the end of April and teaching kids after that would be pointless.

I’m not trying to tell you how to run things, just a concerned parent.

Sincerely, Annie

Also too, dear readers, don’t tell me to homeschool.  I cannot homeschool the orphans and homeschooling my “real” kids would seem cruel and exclusive.  Besides, the only thing I’ve effectively taught them is the “f” word and even that, I got wrong.

Dagan.

It is barely 8:00 a.m. on Day 1 when she asks “So, after (2/4) of the small kids are in school, that’s about all?”

Yeah, even with the half assed job I do, you still got about 12-14 hours left in your day.  Welcome to my world.

It’s been a while, but I think the scorn means she’s not too happy.

Luckily, Tech Support has left the building.

He’s not a fan of the scowl.

So, I’m off to train the 19 yodd (year old darling daughter) how to be a mom to four small children and a teenager.  I think we’ll start by tossing the 17 yods room for contraband.

If nothing else, this will serve as a reminder that sex has consequences.

One problem.

Well, make that five.

Now, I am quite certain that my (lazy) awesome parenting has prepared the many small children to fend for themselves for much longer than six days, but because there are orphans in the mix…..somebody has to watch them.

And not just anybody.  Body’s that have been certified by the FBI to not have been caught doing anything nefarious in their past.  Which makes the hiring process so much fun.  Yeah, “I’m going to be paying you about forty cents and hour to watch five children, first I need you to run yourself downtown and put your fingerprints into a gov’ment database.”  NEXT.

So, I figure with enough Dorito’s and Mtn. Dew in the house, we could just skip the child care portion.  Plus, think of how much money it will save us.  Everybody can walk themselves to school, sure that means about two miles one way for the youngest amongst us, but really the whole world is screaming about how kids don’t get enough exercise anyway.  So really, I’m just being a good parent.

***Disclaimer for the trolls.  It’s called sarcasm.  Like I’d buy Doritio’s for the kids.  Nacho puffs taste exactly the same.

Also, how cool is it that my title contains more words than my post?

We did go on a weekend out of town.  I totally made sure all kids were wearing shoes before we left the house and did not discover 85 miles later that one of them did not have shoes with him.  That would totally be a parent #FAIL  If I had left the house with only 3/4 of the kids wearing proper footwear, I would not think it was totally funny.  I would not try to pretend to be upset to back up Daddy Awesome who really did not think it was funny that we had to go shoe shopping.

I did not let the kids wear their clothes in the pool because I had forgotten that this is south Texas and is now pool season.

I also did not forget my toothbrush on our weekend getaway.  Dental hygiene is very important and I brush twice daily, even on vacation.

I did not find it hilarious when, with windows open, my kid yells at the car next to him “Hey, that guy is drinking and driving just like you  mom.”  Yes, me and the guy in the Honda drink and drive and have an affinity for Sonic.

Well, I will have to get back to you tomorrow, right now I have three kids and a bear to put to bed.

Having five year olds you would think I was past this.  So did I.  But with the milestone of being five, came the privilege of being allowed to play in the front yard, loosely supervised.  As long as you tell Mom, Dad or Sk8r Boi that you are going out, and stay within these limits you can play outside.   If you chose to go play in the yard of your friends across the street, you have to stay outside, and within shouting distance.

They love this new rule.

So do we.

However, having the limited imagination and cunning of an adult, this is how it played out for us.

Tech Support was away for the weekend at a disc golf tournament.  We were three weeks into a plague wherein someone in the house had puked at some point during every one of those days.  Nothing cures the pukies like 7-Up so for a while we had said that they could also get a 7-Up if they were feeling sickly under yet another set of rules.

It was Sunday morning.  Tech Support was gone, we were headed to our fractal group for church, I kind of wanted to shower.  So, I did.  Of course all mom’s know that once the water starts so does the banging on the door and the questions.

Knock.  Knock. Knock.

“Mom, something, something, blah blah blah.”

I CAN’T HEAR YOU I’M IN THE SHOWER, I’ll be out in five minutes.  OKAY?

“Blah blah blah mumble mumble OKAY!”

So, I wrapped things up and when I got out of my room, couldn’t find the boys.   Hmmmm?  The front door was wide open.  Okay so they went outside.

Now, remember, I shower first in this house, so we have two unwashed five year old boys.  Boys who had picked out their own clothing for the morning.  Boog in pants that were about two sizes too big and Felpsy in pants that were two sizes too small.  Boog was walking on his pant legs, and Felpsy was sporting some capris.  They were marching up and down the sidewalk singing songs.  Each boy had a can of 7-Up and were guzzling it as fast as they could between verses because they knew they would be confiscated upon discovery.

Tech Support wanted me to remind you and the neighbors that he was out of town.

Several hours pass and we hit up the party store.  Greeted of course by the (why the hell are you bothering my txting with showing up at my job) employee mumbling something about “welcome to Party Universe blah blah blah”  Boog of course tells her we are here to get decorations for his brother’s birthday, that he was five yesterday just like us and now he’s not, asks her if she likes Sushi and then asks her if she has kids.

Yes.  He.  Did.

No.  She didn’t.

“Well then why couldn’t she get to work on time?”  he asked me.

Crap.

“Oh look, streamers.”

We got our Star Wars paraphernalia and headed to Target.

Boog shot off in the direction of the toys at 100 mph while Little Miss Sunshine strolled at the breakneck speed of a Hoveround.  We past the make up aisle and the girl asked me why they didn’t make a lipstick that lasted longer than a “Spongebob” (our standard measure of time for 15 minutes) while commiserating with her I heard the walkies  going on about a lost boy and “does he know his mommy’s name”.  Urging the girl to walk a little faster, figuring I was said mommy, we round the corner to find Boog standing in a hazmat zone having puked the length of the Lego aisle.

“He’s mine, thanks.” (you totally know that puke is not my domain inside a Target store right?  I am the mayor after all.)  And I hurried out of there with my ill child, at the breakneck speed of a Hoveround.  All while dodging two calls from CPS and the therapist, plus the knowing eyes of those with walkies judging me for not being more active in vomit clean up.

“Hey, I saw that look.  I’m the mayor around these parts, I totally have no power over you.”

Other than that it was a gorgeous day here in north Mexico.  Mid 70s and if Tech Support had the time to windsurf anymore, it would have been a great day to do so.  I feel the outdoor pool is within our grasp here shortly, (pending results of the skin cancer biopsy and a ton of SPF).

We ate cupcakes decorated like dogs and petit fours.   After of course a dinner of pork tenderloin and spinach.  (Felpsy’s choice)

Then we hunted for presents.  I would excuse my not wrapping birthday gifts as the “green” alternative buy you know that’s a bunch of bull.  But I don’t wrap birthday presents.  We scavenger hunt for them.  This year I let the twins give their own clues as to where they had hidden their gifts.  There was wailing and gnashing of teeth.  Finally it was revealed that they were “on my bed”.   When it got to be my turn I told him mine was hidden “not on top of my bed” to which a major fit was thrown.   “Fine it’s under my bed.”  Happiness.

Then a big fight where someone may or may not have ended up with a gaping head wound.

Blood.  Tears.  Timeouts. Chocolate.  Awesomeness.

I hadn’t.

“Well,” she says, “he’s failing six classes.”

Dang, if you’re going to fail six, you might as well go for all seven.

She asked if I wanted to have the teachers contact me by phone, which was a nice offer.  I knew she didn’t read the blog.  Me. And the phone?  “um no, have them email me. ”

Which they did.

First one came in from the English teacher.  He explained that Sk8r Boi is bored and probably should be in Honors classes.

Well, that’s great.

So, tomorrow I’m marching into the Guidance Office and insist, no DEMAND, that my son, who is failing 6/7 of his classes be moved immediately to the Honors program.

Sorry for that image.

Walgreen’s.  Don’t call me and tell me that I have a prescription waiting for my puker, make me put many small children in the car, drive over there and then tell me that you are still waiting for authorization on one of the meds, but I can pay for it outside of insurance if I’d like.  NO.  Get everything ready and THEN call.

Attorney.  When I call for legal advice, don’t pass me to the paralegal who CANNOT give legal advice.  I don’t want to pay to talk to her, pay to have her talk to you and then end up talking to you anyway for clarification.  NO.  When I call for legal advice, YOU call me back directly.

Google Maps.  I know you have many millions of people feeding you information.  I have come to rely on your accurate maps and what not.  Yesterday while looking for a restaurant I ended up in a vacant lot.  Not only was that lot vacant, but so were the surrounding 100 acres.  The second restaurant ended up being a trailer park.  Ultimate #FAIL on your part Google maps.

Now to give you an example on how to run your business, take Quizno’s  for example.  Having failed at two previous attempts of finding a restaurant, we ended up there.  Thank you for realizing that our ten year old, while too old for a kids meal, still might want to color and giving him the kids pack insert.  Awesome.

Also, our martial arts studio.  They have on several occasions offered free day camp to our many small children on days when school is not in session.  We have several family members enrolled in the school, but they don’t have to give us free camp.  But they are caring for us and our orphans and we truly, truly appreciate it.

Now, it probably takes more work to teach kids to do things rather than doing it for them, but it’s an investment.

Tech Support, being dazzled by my beauty and such, forgets who he is married to sometimes.

We were two hours from our house this weekend when he realized that I had had the kids pack their own bags.  Yes, even the five year olds.  Who btw DID remember their toothbrushes as opposed to the ten year old.  While I could take personal responsibility for not teaching him well, I am choosing to believe that he was instead trying to avoid brushing for a night.  Ten year old boys and hygiene are not the best of friends.

Of course Tech Support reminded me that they were FIVE.  Like I had forgotten.  That they may not bring the right things.  Yes, I know.  But as Grandma B. used to say, “they aren’t going to learn any younger”.

This nurturing thing seems hereditary.

But, it was for ONE night.  Had they forgotten pants, they were wearing some.  It wouldn’t have been the first time they wore the same undies two days in a row.  And should the unforeseen happen?  We were staying 100 feet from a washer and dryer.  (Which we utilized.)

We are going to be spending at least one night a month in a hotel for the foreseeable future.  I am making it a goal to have them packing without instruction in three months.  We’ll see.  We also have to add in the swimsuit in a couple of months.  That would be a bad thing to forget.  Then guess what I get for all my hard work?

I NEVER HAVE TO PACK AGAIN.

I will just have to tell them how many nights we are going to be gone.

Also, I will have time to learn how to pack my own bags.

Something that needs to be learned.  Tech Support teased me about bringing three bags for an overnight.  I had a purse, a backpack and a computer bag.  Although as he was carrying tree computers in that bag he did ask me if I brought the OTHER computer bag.  Yes, like I’m going to open myself up to the ridicule four bags/night would bring.  Sorry baby.

Of course I could have put it all in my backpack, but I didn’t buy a $200 purse to leave it at home.  And I knew that there would be times we’d have to lug the twin Macs around as opposed to leaving them in the car, and didn’t want to be hauling my undies into restaurants and church.

Although, maybe if I brought the three computers in three bags the triplets could carry them…..there’s an idea.

*******

I am just kidding.  Like I’d let a five year old carry my Mac.