Responsibilities

I'm in the bedroom folding laundry.

I can hear the kids screaming in the family room and I'm 98% sure I heard a cat puking somewhere out there too.

I'm the only grown-up here, meaning I'm supposed to deal with it...but I'm feeling pretty tired.

What do you think my chances are of escaping out the window unnoticed?

Proposition Uranus

Big Kid's homework last night involved reading a book about planets and I got to thinking--when Pluto lost its classification as a planet, we should have had it switch names with Uranus.


Because who wants to talk about Uranus?

I don't want my kid talking about Uranus. I don't want to hear fun facts about Uranus. I don't need to know that Uranus is 4 times wider than the earth. I am not interested in hearing that Uranus has 12 rings.

Don't try to pronounce it as "Uriness" either, that just gets everyone thinking about Uranus even more.

It would just be way less awkward if Pluto had been allowed to stay and it was Uranus that was kicked out.

Tricks and Traps

The leprechauns came last night and played some tricks on us, as they do every year around this time.

They left Lucky Charms and Irish Spring soap and buttons and cards and coins, and put a chair up on the center island.

They put my flip flops in the fridge.

They tied Big Kid's backpack to a chair with toilet paper.

They filled the sink with green easter grass and stuck the boys' toothbrushes to the mirror.

They barricaded the boys' door with pool noodles.

They blocked the front door with chairs. (I guess those sneaky little bastards aren't familiar with fire safety violations!) And they dyed our milk green.



little kid is furious.

He can't be convinced that this was all in good fun. He thinks this was an adversarial move on their part and he will seek vengeance.

He stomped around with his hands on his hips inspecting their work. "Your shoes are in our 'frigerator? That's it! I'm gonna catch that lepocon and beat his brass for this!"

"What did you say? You're going to beat his what?"

"Nuffing."

"Good."

Eventually the story began to evolve.

"I saw 'em. I saw the lepocons."

"Oh yeah?"

"No you didn't!" yelled Big Kid.

"Yep. He was gween."

"It was probably a black man," Big Kid speculated. (wtf, Big Kid?)

"No, he was gween."

"Was he wearing a hat?"

"Yes."

"A green top hat with a belt around it and a buckle?"

"Yep."

"Did he have a beard?"

"Yep."

"An orange one?"

"Yep."

"Was he real short?"

"Yep."

"Mom, I think he really saw a leprechaun! Man, I wish I saw the leprechauns."

"There was lots of 'em. They was havin' a party, IN OUR HOUSE! I caught one wif a net but he got away. Next year I'm gonna get one and keep him! But I gonna need some help with 'at, k mumum?"

little kid is also convinced they stole some of our bananas and he's angry about the mess made with the easter grass. He found a small hole in the screen door and he's pretty sure that's how they got in. "Our first clue!" he shouted.

He will begrudgingly admit that it was nice that they left M&Ms, but they'd better watch their brasses next year.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Following Sean

I just finished watching Following Sean, a movie about a man who was originally filmed in the '60s as a 4 year old running around alone in Haight Ashbury, bragging about smoking grass and how he could identify a speed freak. The stuff he was saying was crazy, but he was completely adorable and spoke candidly with a child's perspective of a grown up world.

When the film came out, people (understandably) freaked out about this child and his future. He would surely be a druggie! A degenerate! THIS kid and his family were the ruin of America! THIS is what those damn hippies were producing!

So the film maker decided to find him again and filmed him throughout his adulthood.

And he ended up just fine. Smart and kind and hard-working and still kind of adorable. Boringly normal almost.

I'm not saying we should all give our kids pot and let them run around alone (that would be a total waste of pot), but I think it was a cool example of how resilient and malleable kids can be as they grow up. He did all that, lived through it, grew up and out of it and appears to have a very conventional life. There are people with good parents and normal families that grow up to be serial killers or politicians.

You just never really can tell what you're going to get.

You should watch it (I didn't ruin it by telling you what I have. His life and family and everyone's perspective are the interesting part of the footage) and feel better about your parenting abilities, and the chance that your children may end up normal after all.

Non-Working Mom

I've been pissing little kid off a lot lately; so much so that he told me the other day that he wished he had a different mumum. I pointed out how incredibly rude that was and angrily asked how he would feel if I walked around saying I wished I had a different baby. "It would hurt your feelings, wouldn't it?"

"Um, I mean a toy mumum. I want a mumum who is a toy instead of a real one." He said it sort of sarcastically, like I wasn't smart enough to figure out what he had meant the first time, but I think he felt bad and realized being replaced by a toy would be less hurtful than competing with a real person.

I pointed out that if he had a toy mom, he would have broken her long ago and that I have had many toy babies and had had better luck with those.

Today as we walked to the community pool, he was telling me all about how his work friend's mom died and how he hoped he would get a new one soon and that she would be nice.

(Did I tell you all that the work friends who were eaten by polar bears are back from being dead? And that they live in this neighborhood and he was going to have to help them move but they ended up having enough people? That they have 25 Transformer trucks and that they paved all of the roads and sidewalks in our new community? I haven't met them but they sound pretty amazing.)

I told him that it didn't really work that way and have been wondering ever since if he's been thinking about replacing me. Getting laid off from two jobs in a row would really suck.

He was completely overjoyed to hear that I would no longer be working. He hooted and hollered and cheered as I tried to smile through tears. I did present it as a good thing, "Hey, I don't have to work any more!" but he would have taken it that way no matter what, even though it didn't change things too drastically for him anyway since I was only working part time from home.

The other day I was taking a bath and I heard him tell Mr. Ashley, "I can always count on my mom and dad." (He says heart-meltingly sweet stuff like this all the time. I think it's a survival instinct.)

"Awwww, that's right. You can always count on your family," Mr. Ashley answered.

"I only wish you guys didn't have wook," he said, sounding sad.

"But mama doesn't work any more!"

"Yeah, but she been lookin' for a new job and I don't like my mumum wookin. I like her just bein' my mumum."

That was one of the days I didn't have internet and took him to our vacant house to borrow some wireless. He kept asking why I had to be on the computer if I didn't have to work and I told him I was looking for work. He had no reaction at the time, but it broke my heart to hear that it had bothered him.

I jumped right out of the tub to hug him and promise him that I was just looking for writing jobs that would let me stay home with him and to tell him that I love being his mom. Yay! he said.

Sweet, right?

Then several days later in the car he said, "Mumum, you could use Big Kid's 'puter. To look for a job. I know you don't got a good 'puter now but Big Kid does."

I felt crushed that he was worrying about it. Although I bitch here, there and everywhere about all kinds of stuff, I truly do try to shield the kids from my worries.

"It's okay, honey. I'm not even worried about a job that much, you know? Summer's coming, we'll go to the beach and the pool..."

"I'm sayin' maybe you can get a job."

"Baby, don't worry about it! You're being so silly. Daddy has a good job and we have everything we need. I don't want you--"

"If you had a job you could buy me some toys."

And then it all made sense. Moments earlier I had refused to buy him an Avatar toy from Publix and that was enough to end the "I'm so glad my mumum doesn't wook!" phase of his life.

I wouldn't take him to the zoo the other day (because we had been to the zoo the day before) and he again suggested that I get a job.

It really is a lot like an abusive relationship--with him as the abuser. He's controlling and manipulative and hates to let me out of his sight.

It's a good thing he provides an endless supply of comedic material, cuddling and compliments.

ATV

Since we're broke, we decided to give up television once we moved and I was really worried about that for a while. How would my children thrive without the companionship, supervision and education from their nanny-in-a-box?

I'm a couple of weeks into it now and not only is it going way better than expected, there have been some benefits I hadn't considered.

We've been getting DVDs from the library and Netflix. We get a good mix of tv shows and movies and we can each get 6 and keep them for one week. Here's what's been awesome:

1. No endless reruns of iCarly. I love iCarly but I'm pretty sure we've seen every single one ever made at least 70 times. Big Kid would have to watch them every time they were on but doesn't seem to miss them at all now that they aren't available as constant background noise. Also, it's like the Jonas Brothers were never even born. That's a good thing.

2. I have more control over what's watched. This isn't always true because every once in a while a Pokemon sneaks through, but for the most part we've been watching great television. The kids are hooked on cartoons like the Flintstones, Jetsons, Animaniacs, Loony Tunes, and the Simpsons and have enjoyed movies like the Neverending Story and Princess Bride. We watch Blue Planet and nature documentaries. And we like it, because that's what's on!

3. There are no advertisements. Ever. I have not heard ONE "Can I have that?" since we've moved here. It's nice to watch shows without evil corporations reaching out to my kids every other minute.

4. It's fun to watch things in order. I've been watching the Office on DVD lately and I just got to the one where Jim first told Pam he loves her and kissed her. (*swoon*) I missed that one somehow (season 2, casino party) and it was even sweeter after watching their flirtations gradually progress from season 1 episode 1. I've also been watching a lot of stuff I wouldn't normally pay attention to and loved (most of) it.

5. It's easy to turn it off since things come to a stopping point. I have been reading more and the kids have been playing more. They spend time looking at National Geographics and kid magazines they get, which were quickly forgotten about before.

I'm amazed at how little we miss satellite television. The kids haven't complained one time, it's like they haven't even noticed. Also, now I can be one of those holier-than-thou anti-television moms and can put "restricting outside media influences" on my competitive motherhood score card.

All of that for $70 less each month.

Saturday Morning Dreams

"So, how's your day?" little kid asked after spending all of Saturday morning terrorizing the entire household. He asks this several times a day, every single day.

"Not so great." I answered.

"No, you s'posed to say 'good'," he insisted.

"It's not that good, little kid. Today is like every other day and that's a real bummer. You and your brother are fighting, your dad is at work, you're making a mess, no one will listen--I'm tired and frustrated and need a break. I'd like to be having a nice Saturday."

"Well, maybe one day wishes will come twue!" he offered cheerfully.

"Okay, thanks. I won't hold my breath, but maybe one day."

"No, I meant my wishes. I want a monster truck."

Oh Shucking Hell

The other day as little kid and I were waiting for the bus, he said "Where is that shucking bus?" in frustration. Although it was amusing, I was not impressed and told him that if he ever used that word again I would wash his mouth out with soap.

(We'll have to avoid oyster houses from here on out.)

He was intrigued by that punishment idea and immediately quieted down without arguing (this never happens--there is ALWAYS a counter argument from little kid.)

Today as we waited, he said, "Where is that hell bus?"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"Uh, I been meanin' to aks you 'bout somefin, mine mumum. Is hell a bad word?"

"Yes! Knock it off with the bad language."

"What should I say then?"

"Something nice like, 'I wonder where the bus is?' or 'Bubby's bus is taking awfully long today.'"

"I wanted to say somefin different than 'at. Somefin mad--but NOT hell since at's a bad word."

"I guess you could say 'heck' if you really have to be angry about it, but I don't see why you can't just wonder where the bus is."

"I'm wondering where 'at heck bus is right now is what I'm wondering!" He answered.

So, his vocabulary is coming along really nicely and I'm clearly doing a great job as a parent.

He talks 150% of the time, only stopping to make suckling sounds in his sleep in between night time mutterings. Every single morning after we drop Big Kid off, we start our day with the following conversation (or some variation thereof):

"I wanna go to a water park a-day!"

"The water park is closed, it's a school day."

"No, it's Saturday! Why you lie? It's Saturday!"

"I'm not lying, it's not Saturday. The water park is closed on week days and besides, it's 57 degrees out."

"It's sunny! The sun is right there! I cannot bewieve you won't take me to a water park a day!"

"It is closed. The answer is no."

"Can we go to the mall?"

"No."

"I wanna go to a mall!"

"I'm sorry. We can't today."

"Take me to baby school. Now!"

"Stop being rude to me. Baby school isn't open. Your teacher isn't even there."

"SHE LIVES THERE!"

"No, she doesn't. She spends 3 hours a week there, only on Monday. Today is not Monday."

"It is Monday! It is too Monday. Mumum, today is Monday."

This usually goes on until I snap and threaten to beat him or turn the radio up ridiculously loud and blatantly ignore him. The other day after we finished the baby school argument, he said, "I wanna go to Bok Bok Bama's house then."

"Barack Obama? You want to go to Barack Obama's house?"

"Yes. Right now."

"Why?"

"Just 'cuz. I wanna see him."

"Well, that would be cool but he's very busy. I'm pretty sure we would need an appointment."

"No, not me! I don't need no pointents, mumum. Do you know where he libs?"

"Where the President lives? Yes, he lives in the White House in Washington D.C."

"Take me there. To his house. I wanna talk to him A DAY!!!"

This led to an entertaining moment where I imagined little kid and I knocking on the White House door and demanding an audience with Barack Obama so little kid could bitch him out about his troubles with the water park and baby school and his brother's shucking bus. But it stopped being entertaining when I had to explain how far away the White House was and how we would have to take an airplane and then defend myself against accusations of lying about not having money for airfare (because he saw $2 in my purse just the other day and didn't even take it from me!).

If the squeaky wheel gets the grease, I think he will grow up to become a man who gets what he wants--if I let him live that long.

Professional Series

Without internet (or money or television), the most interesting source of entertainment I've had for the last 10 days has been my new appliances.

They are smarter than I am, which should be a good thing since I'm domestically challenged, but they are so advanced that I couldn't even figure out how to use them at first and found them ridiculously frustrating.

I was perplexed when I couldn't just put clothes into the washer and hit start. The options are endless: are these every day clothes? Work clothes? Towels? Blankets? Sheets? Comforters? Swim suits? Play clothes? Sneakers? Formal wear? Darks? Whites? Lights? Mixed? Cotton? Wool? Polyester? Blend? Have grass stains? Has it been peed on? Did someone poop their pants? Is it potential murder evidence?

Mr. Ashley walked into the laundry room to find me yelling "WASH! START!" in the hope that it was voice activated because I just needed a "Clean" cycle. (It is not voice activated.) I've got it all figured out now though and am completely amazed by its awesomeness. When I open the dryer door, the washer switches on and sends the dryer instructions--"SHE'S PUTTING IN THE TOWELS NOW. EXTRA HEAT AND DRY. DELICATE," it says and I hit OK, although I don't even understand the need for delicate when it comes to towels but I figure it knows what it is doing.

Mr. Ashley instituted a ban on laundry-watching because he thinks it's weird. The kids love it though and I can see the appeal. You can watch the washer too.


I love the kitchen almost enough to cook in it. My oven has a warming drawer and it does other fancy stuff too, but I don't really know what. I do know that it has a timer so that you can leave food in there and it will cook while you're gone, but that seems insane to me. I'm a little bit afraid of a Terminator-like uprising when the appliances gain super intelligence and revolt against my abuse and decide to kill me, so I'm not going to go and give the oven permission to turn itself on when I'm not supervising.

The pot-filling faucet is even better than expected. Today I was making soup and went to grab a pitcher to add more water when I remembered that I have a pot-filling faucet. And I turned it on right into the pot and that was pretty magnificent. Water right into the pot, no labor from me required.

I'm meh on the dishwasher. It looks all fancy and has 90 zillion configuration options inside but I'm pretty sure whoever designed it doesn't load the dishwasher a lot, or else they load the dishwasher completely wrong.

So there you have it, a house wife bragging about her appliances. Tomorrow we'll discuss my favorite toe nail polish color!!!

Let the record show

Century Link (formerly known as Embarq) sucks donkey balls.

I thought 10 days was a little extreme for setting up residential internet service, but whatever, I was mostly patient about it. I was extra annoyed when I called to confirm our appointment time and they said they didn't need one, that someone would be out before 7pm and would turn it on from the outside somewhere. 10 days for someone to show up outside and flip a switch or something? Oh, but it would be faster if I had a super expensive business line? But I don't, so you can't? Oh, alright.

Then on March 8th, I was excited to see that my home phone worked and then sad to see that my internet modem/router thingy did not. DO NOT CALL THEM UNTIL 7pm ON ACTIVATION DAY the "your shit doesn't work" screen told me, so I didn't.

At 7:15...still didn't work. At 7:20 I figured out that they close at 7 (so basically they're just making sure they don't have to deal with you or your issues until the next morning). At 7:35, I went to bed. At 7:45 the next morning, Mr. Ashley reported that they acted as if they were doing us a big favor by coming out the next day. I cried a little that morning.

(They said the 8th!! NOT the 10th!! There is A LOT you cannot do without the internet, people. I was a trouper about the whole thing for a while there but there's only so much a person can take. My personal limit was exceeded on the 8th.)

Today the appointment was between 10:45 and 12:45. At 10:45, I looked out the window and saw their van so I locked the dogs up. I looked out the window again and saw the guy on his cell phone in my driveway, I figured he was finishing a call and would knock shortly. I looked out one moment later and he was gone! I ran out to the driveway and he was turning around at the end of my street. I waved him down.

"Your internet not working?"

"Yes."

"I knocked and you didn't answer. I was going to fix it."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. You may have knocked as I was putting the dogs up. But you can come on--"

"Our appointment was at 10:45," he said, sort of staring at me as if he was planning on leaving now that it was 10:50.

"Between 10:45 and 12:45, so I didn't know when for sure...that's why I was putting the dogs away though, because you were coming. I just didn't hear you knock or I..."

"Look, I'm not about to argue about it," he interrupted, as if he would very much like to argue about it.

ARGUE ABOUT WHAT? I wasn't being argumentative but now that you mention it, you should have knocked twice, asshole, or tried ringing the bell. I have a hard time believing that with the blinds up, the dogs barking, my kids running through the house fighting with each other, me standing right near the front window, with the television on and my car in the driveway, that we were giving off the appearance of not being home.

I wanted to murder him but I needed my internet, so I let him continue breathing.

"Oh no no, me neither. No, I'm really sorry. Can you please come in?"

He did come in (minus the attitude) and he fixed it, but they all (Century Link/Embarq/That guy) are definitely on my list of evil-doers now.

So when we think back to this dark period of Ashley's Closet history (have I ever left you all for so long? I'm really asking--I don't think I have) we can blame Century Link, formerly known as Embarq, and their stellar lack of customer service.

I think it goes without saying that they won't be invited on the Ashley's Closet cruise.