Losing the battle……

Yesterday, since we were snow/iced inside, we spent the afternoon watching lots of football. During the game, the commercial for Ed.die M.ur.phy’s new movie came on. The promo showed a scene where he was talking about lesbians. The line was pretty funny and Mr. 1969 and I laughed out loud.This led to Tali 1 asking me,

“Mommy, what’s a lesbian?”

I, of course, had been waiting for one of these moments all of my life. I was prepared and answered with the quickness: “ASK DADDY!”

Mr. 1969 replied without a beat “Well, Tali 1, you were born in April so your zodiac sign is ARIES, Tali 2 was born in May, his zodiac sign is TAURUS. Mommy was born in July and her zodiac sign is CANCER. A lesbian is one of those signs.”

All I could do was stare at him with my mouth hanging open. Tali 1 said “OK” and promptly went back to whatever he was doing as Mr. 1969 looked all smug and pleased with himself.

I need reinforcements people. Send reinforcements.

 

My future’s not so bright…

A few weeks ago, I shared with you how Mr. 1969 took down the Wu Tang Christmas lights right? A week ago, he couldn’t sleep so knowing I had to drive to Princeton the following morning, he decided to go out and fill up my gas tank (yes, he can be sweet when he wants to be) and since he was out, he decided to hit up the Mac machine and get some cash, then swing by the library and drop Tali 2′s book in the bin.

When I woke up in the morning, I got in the car and started driving to New Jersey for an early morning sales call. I glanced in the back seat and noticed a Razor scooter. Tali 2 has a scooter but I knew it was in the garage. I called Mr. 1969 and he told me that when he went to drop off the library book, there was a scooter in the parking lot. Since it was midnight and it seemed unclaimed, he brought it home for Tali 1.

Flash forward to yesterday, I found out that he found an unclaimed case of water at the tennis courts when the boys went to play tennis and brought it home.

Why do I have a vision of him being 65 and my entire garage is filled with stuff he found? I told him he has hoarding tendencies and he denied it.

I swear he is going to be one of those old men….

“Babe, look what I found, someone threw away a perfectly good suit and I brought it home. I can wear it to church on Sunday”

“I found a nice velvet chair, only missing one leg, it will look great in the living room!”

“Honey, did you say you needed some new shoes? What size do you wear?”

Pray for me people. Pray for me.

Bearclaws

We had one of our friend’s sons spend the night with us last night. He is a fun nine year old and he and my boys were having an awesome time. Mr. 1969 had all three boys for most of the day as I spent Saturday in NYC with my brother and Mama 1969 celebrating her birthday.

Mr. 1969 picked me up from downtown Philly and as we were driving home, all three boys were laughing and playing in the backseat. I started talking to Mr. 1969 and we filled each other in on our day. The music was playing and it seemed that everyone in the car was talking at the same time. All of a sudden my acute mother hearing (2nd only to doberman pinchers and creatures in the Amazon rainforest) heard the following “if a girl has her period, she can get pregnant” and it didn’t come from either of my boys.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH. Party done.

Instantly, I shut the music off, told Mr. 1969 to pause mid-sentence and turned all the way around and said ”Hey guys, I don’t think this is a conversation we need to be having right now in the car. What do we want for dinner?”.Hey, it was all I could think of on short notice without putting that kid out on the curb and banning him from ever seeing my kids again.  It worked and all talking turned to discussions of Chik-Fil A.

As I drove home, Mr. 1969 kept giving me the “don’t lose your cool eye” which could be confused with the evil eye or side eye since they all look the same when you’re angry. As the kids played Wii in the living room, we talked in the kitchen in hushed tones.

I was disturbed. Mr. 1969 was not. His argument was that the boy didn’t say anything that was wrong. What he said was factual. Now while I agreed that we should not make a big deal out of what he said or make the child feel uncomfortable, I admit that it bothered me. I am far from a prude and I am a huge advocate of giving your child the correct information about their bodies and well, life. We have a very open policy as far as this line of questioning goes. I would much rather my kid hear things from us than to learn about it in the back seat of a car streets.

However, like I said, my spidey senses were tingling until that boy walked out my front door this morning. He is the sweetest little kid and he was no trouble at all. However, I had my trained eye on him. He has three older brothers who range from college aged to 13 so I am sure he has been exposed to a few lively discussions. I understand, but my soon to be 9 year old is a kid in every sense of the word.

This morning when tv was on, our guest wanted to watch music videos….my son wanted to watch Pokemon or Young Justice. See what I’m saying? I know I can’t shelter my boys from everything but DAMN…..can a kid just enjoy being a kid for as long as possible? I know that all of this is inevitable and right around the corner but I sure as hell was not ready for it on Saturday night. Can’t I have until he’s at least 10? I am still picturing this:

Somebody pray for me. Cause between this and the Wu-Tangs purchasing a motorcycle and riding it up and down my street….I am going to need divine intervention.

When doubts creep in, drop kick them.

Triathalon update:

I was able to secure a great swim coach however, I can only meet her in a 7pm timeslot Monday through Friday.  I am one of those people that works out early in the am. If I am not done working out before 4pm, it usually won’t get done.  I like to be settled in my house once my boys are home and enjoy family time. I like to help with homework, make dinner and relax. I love my couch and I love useless tv at night. I can’t lie.

Now with this new coach, she is practically free (most coaches cost over $200 for lessons) and I get to work with her one on one for a straight hour (most lessons are 45 minutes). Again, the main drawback is that my time slot is at 7pm at night. I don’t get back home until around 8:30pm.  It’s still cold and dark. I’m leaving there wet and tired. Can you see how I may not always be motivated?

All day yesterday, I b*tched about having to go. I worked from home in the afternoon and whined to Mr. 1969 every fifteen minutes. I think I was hoping he would say “don’t go” so I would feel better and stay home.

Instead, my awesome husband told me he would go with me and swim with the boys while I practiced.  Instantly, I felt better. Despite having a friend doing the tri with me here in Philly, we live in different neighborhoods. She belongs to her gym and I belong to mine. She takes swim lessons at her gym and I go to my person. We try to take a spin class together every Saturday morning so we have at least one day of training together but training for this race is pretty much a solitary effort. I have to motivate myself. I would definitely recommend that anyone interested in doing one of these, signs up with a team. It is easier to get up and go when you have a team holding you accountable.

Most days, I stay motivated but I do have my moments when I am just tired. Thank God for Mr. 1969, my boys and all of my Facebook friends that sent me words of encouragement yesterday. As soon as I got in the water, I felt great. She also corrected so many mechanical issues I was having with my stroke and my breathing. By the end of the lesson, I had mastered breathing on every stroke and the breaststroke. All in an hour. Imagine what I will be able to do if I go on a regular basis, come race time.

(me, swimming in the lane…Coach D watching over me)

Training for this race is one of the most physically demanding things I have ever done. My body is always sore but I keep pushing myself. I know that this race is mental. I refuse to fall for the doubts in my mind. I can do this and I am so thankful for the support and inspiration that comes from the most unexpected sources.

I know that God is pushing me to do this race and I believe that I will finish. I can do this!

Open Letter to Kim Kardashian

Dearest Kimmy:

I want you to know that despite my husband’s undying love for you, I bear you no ill will. Having not been blessed with anything near the posterior that you possess, I allow him to dream.

I can even overlook your over saturation in the media. Magazines, tv shows, red carpets. Although I know not what it is you do exactly, I do respect your hustle and ability to have come out of Paris Hilton’s shadow, only to overtake her celebrity status.

I can even forgive you for dating Reggie Bush. Reggie Bush…*sigh*

Okay, maybe I was hating on you for your good fortune. Lucky beyotch.

I can even overlook your insipid reality show. I actually watched a recent episode one Sunday afternoon. You had a nude photoshoot with a major magazine. Then when they aired your nude photo, you cried your eyes out saying they “promised” to cover you up when it was published. *crickets*

I was willing to overlook these things. You are a beautiful girl with a killer body. Your fashion sense has improved dramatically. You have managed to exhibit some business savvy and built an empire for yourself afterall.

However, I have since had to part ways with you altogether. Even Mr. 1969 says he is done with lusting after your ample assets. Why?

Because when his purple royal highness pulls you up on stage in MY hometown and asks you to dance……you dance dammit.

Ain’t nobody too cute to dance with Prince. Heffa. Should have known you had no rhythm after that boring video with Ray J.

Husbands…can’t live with em

We had a friend’s son hang out with us and spend the night last night. The boys had a blast playing together all day. We wore them out! I put them to bed around 9pm, Mr. 1969 went upstairs to watch a game (and fall asleep) and I laid on the couch downstairs reading a book. After a long day…I was planning on having an uneventful night.

Well around 10:30pm, I could hear somebody being violently ill. If I couldn’t hear it, I surely wouldn’t have missed two boys screaming “Tali 2 is puking everywhere!” *sigh*

My boys have bunk beds. The kind where there is a twin on top and a full sized bed below. Tali 2 was in the top bunk which now looked like something spilled in Hell’s Kitchen and he was so dazed and confused, he laid back down  and went back to sleep in the middle of all the damage. It was indeed an assault on the senses.

I sent the two boys (who were delighting in screaming and trying to climb up to look at my baby and laugh) in to sleep in our guest room and tucked them in and shut the door.  I woke up Tali 2, made him stand up in the bed and take everything off. I scooped him up in a big towel and gave him a hot shower, rubbed him down with lotion and dressed him in some fleece jammies.

“Mom” “Yes baby” “Can I have socks?” Yes, I even got him clean socks….you know how particular he is about his attire….even when sick (Viva la cold pants revolution (c) Jameil).

 After he was dressed, I put him in my bed next to Mr. 1969 (who was STILL sleeping).

I went downstairs, grabbed the bleach, rags, my bucket, mop and a pair of gloves and came back upstairs to work on that bed. The pillows went straight into a garbage bag. OUT! Everything else I threw in the boys tub and washed till I at least got them clean enough to put in the washing machine. Then I started scrubbing the mattress. Then I decided to just clean the whole bathroom.

When I was done and finally went back in to the bedroom to check on Tali 2, Mr. 1969 FINALLY woke up and said “What happened?”

I cussed him out for about ten minutes. How are you in the bedroom next to your kids and you don’t hear a thing? I was downstairs and I heard it. I left him with Tali 2 and went back downstairs to sleep on the couch.

Did I mention that yesterday, I left the house at 7:30 am and did a one hour spin class and then swam about 20 laps afterwards? Can I tell you how good my old muscles are feeling this morning after mopping, scrubbing and then sleeping on the couch?

So you know I was more than a little salty at Mr. 1969 this morning right?

He came downstairs and made breakfast for the two older boys. He came and sat next to me on the couch and said “Do you remember what happened the last time BOY “Z”  spent the night at our house?”

I thought for a good minute….”Yes. The fish incident!”

“Clearly we can’t have him back over. He causes Tali 2 to react violently.”

See? Even when I’m mad at him, he makes me laugh.

Soccer Shenanigans

My boys play soccer on the “uppity”" side of town. Not just uppity…..FILTHY, STINKING, RICH. I try to make sure they have a balance between suburbs, hood and wealthy in all of their activities. They have to learn to be comfortable around people from all walks of life.

With playing soccer in this type of environment, we have come to be constantly entertained by the wealthy folks that we hobnob with every Saturday and how they interact with their children. Tali 2 plays in the 4-5 year old division. There are about 40 kids and they basically have no assisgned teams. Every week, they break them up into about 8 groups of five and they play each other. Some weeks, he is on a strong team, sometimes he gets the weaker team.

On Saturday, he was paired up with the most non-athletic group of kids ever. They were all adorable but they had zero aptitude for soccer. One kid would run up to the ball to kick it and miss and then fall down. (Can you say Charlie Brown?) Another kid kept running in the wrong direction. Another one was rocking bright blue sports goggles and I still don’t think he could see. Add in, uber-competitive, “I’ve been coached by my big brother the soccer all-star for five years running” and you already know it was a recipe for disaster.

The game raged on and of course, the other team was dominating. I could see the frustration growing on Tali 2′s face as the game wore on. I knew he was on the verge of a breakdown after he yelled for one of his teammates to pass and they kicked the ball in the other teams goal.

After the fourth goal was scored to their teams 1 goal (which my boy scored), the cute little boy with the blue sports goggles ran over to his team and said “Don’t worry guys, we’re tied now.”

“TIED? WE’RE NOT TIED. CAN’T YOU COUNT? WE ARE LOSING 4 TO 1!!!!! WE’RE GETTING KILLED! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU DUDE?”

I slipped my shades on and pretended to take a phone call as I could feel ALL of the snooty parents turn to look at the “brown” mommy whose son clearly had “issues”.

I called Mr. 1969 on the phone as he was on another field with Tali 1 to tell him that his son cussed out his team for being mediocre. His response “That’s my boy.”

*sigh*

What The Fudge?

So I park my car at Target and as I am getting out of the car, I take a look at the car next to mine.

Let’s take a closer look shall we?

Is there such a thing as a car hoarder? Who do I call to report this hazard? How do you see out of your rear window? Isn’t this nasty? I can’t…..talk amongst yourselves.

The Weekend Review

I spent the weekend at the Gaylord Hotel and Conference Center with 3,000 of my sorority sisters. It was insane. I did get to spend time with Mia B and I got to meet one of my regular readers, Donna B (who is fabulous by the way!).

A few takeaways from my weekend:

1. I am too old to go to bed  two nights in a row after 3am.

2. I am too old to dance two nights in a row after 3am in four inch stilettos.

3. Mr. 1969 is not allowed to stay home alone anymore after he texted me a picture around 3pm on Saturday of him and 25 of his frat brothers hanging out in my living room watching the NCAA Tournament.

4. Did I mention that he sent my two children to the movies with his Aunt Gerri who is 72 years old during his party? *sigh*

5. Did I also mention that he decided to fry chicken for his boys using a fry daddy AND a frying pan and what my kitchen looked like when I came home yesterday? Can you say grease and flour?

Shady Acres Retirement Home

I am supposed to start working at 8am everyday. Today, I am in my home office. On days where I am not out on sales calls, I wake up and immediately head out to the gym so I can be back in the house at 8am just in case anyone is looking for me.

Luckily, since I started the new job, I don’t have to wake up at 5am anymore. Now I can get up around 6:30 and be at the gym before 7am.

Today, after working out, I stopped by my local Dunkin Donuts because I promised to drop off munchkins for Tali 2′s school celebration today. For some reason, I opted not to go through the drive thru. Instead, I went in. I was in my gym clothes and an oversize hoody. Nothing special.

Lo and behold there are about 20 old men hanging out in the Dunkin Donuts. They have their coffee, muffins, donuts, etc and are posted up being loud and laughing. Now I live near a University so this Dunkin gets a ton of young co-eds. Clearly, this must be the spot for these men every morning. They are just scoping out the young girls and giggling and cackling like a pack of 12 year old boys.

I order the munckins and walk over to the side to grab a handful of napkins. All of the old men start saying “Shhhhhh” to each other.

Then one says to me “I like those pants you’re wearing.”

Me: “Leggings?”

Gramps: “Yeah…leggings. Those are nice.”

Me: “Uh…thanks.”

As soon as I turn around and start walking away….they all bust out laughing and high fiving him.

I could so picture my husband and his frat brothers in there after they retire. *SIGH*