Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Early Dismissal

I'm finished with the school year.

It doesn't officially end until next Wednesday, but I have zero fucks left to give. Zero.

I am not worried about letting anyone down when it comes to end of the year parties, teacher gifts, summer reading lists, turning random shit in, etc. I am not worried. At all. About any of it.

Today I chaperoned a field trip (I know, I know) and there were still 30 minutes left in the school day when we returned. I asked his teacher if she cared if I took little kid home then and she said she did not -- I secretly suspect she's all out of fucks now, too.

As I was checking him out, the front desk lady asked, "And what is the reason for the early dismissal?"

I realized they wanted a legitimate excuse. I'm not against lying on a good day, but I didn't even have that left in me.

"I'm just done. It's the end of the day, it's the end of the year, and I'm done now. I'm done." She stared at me for a moment of shocked silence. She looked conflicted about what to do next.

"Can you write that on the thing? Mom's done. I just chaperoned a field trip if that..."

"Oh, yeah. You're done then. Go home and have a cold glass of iced tea," she said with a laugh and we both know she meant a big glass of wine.

Because we're all done by now.

Anyone who isn't is a lying liar who is lying through their lie hole.

(I do still reserve the right to complain during the summer about how these kids are driving me crazy.)

Monday, May 18, 2015

Sex Ed

I’m supposed to be writing an article but the downside to writing professionally is that if you’re not feeling it, it’s incredibly hard to do. I’ve been sick all weekend and I’ve also been self-diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue of Everyone Else’s Shit syndrome so I’m tired and none of that is my fault.

But anyway.

Today Big Kid got in the car and said, “For the rest of the school year, we’re studying health instead of science. So I opened my new book and on the very first page, I saw a sentence talking about warts on penises, mom. That’s what I’m dealing with. Should be a great way to wrap up the year!”

“OH MY--” little kid exclaimed.

“Well, sex education is important. The warts thing is a sexually transmitted disease and that’s why it’s important to always wear a condom,” I said, never missing an opportunity to scare or embarrass my special snowflakes.

“Mom!--” Big Kid began as little kid asked, “What’s a comdon?”

“A condom is something the man wears during sex to prevent pregnancy or disease -- every single time, no matter what. I will make sure you’ll both have more than you’ll ever need as you get to that age. Instead of a candy bowl, we’ll have a condom bowl!”


“How does the boy wear it though?” little kid asked. “What is it?”

“Like a rubber sock for your penis, kind of. You’ll learn to put one on a banana or something as you get older.”

“Oh Jesus. Can we stop NOW? Mom? Can we resume this conversation, like, never? Ever?”

“What? I just want to make sure you guys can talk to me about anything. It’s important to keep the line of conversation open.”

“Well, excuse me for not wanting to talk about rubber socks for my penis with my mom.”

“See why sex ed in school is important?”

 Mission accomplished, one way or another.

Now do you think I can pitch this piece as the childhood literacy post I’m supposed to be writing?

Thursday, May 14, 2015

National Twerking Day

Imagine if Michael Scott from the Office was a Chippendale dancer.

That is little kid's preferred style of dancing. It's both hilarious and horrifying. However, some nights I just can't deal and tonight was one of those nights.

 "Could you stop? That's enough. Really. You're just too weird."

 "If I was the president, I'd make National Twerking Day a holiday," he replied.

 Big Kid quickly interjected. "Congress would have to approve it first to get a national holiday like that passed. And Congress can't agree on anything, which would be a good thing for once." 

Agreed. But just in case, keep your fingers crossed that little kid doesn't end up in the White House.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Shameless Brag: Mommy's Little Film Maker

Big Kid's final for art was a project called "Impress Me." The only guideline was that the students had to turn in something they believed would impress the art teacher.

(Some turned in Minecraft worlds, which I'm trying not to be judge-y about but I'm glad my kid didn't do that.)

He was really serious about his work, even implementing a temporary ban on his favorite website to keep himself on track. He spent many hours at the kitchen table painstakingly drawing, researching and designing the pieces of his project.

I know I'm biased but I'm impressed.

I also love the little soundtrack.

 He did the entire thing by himself with no help at all because no one in this house would know how to even begin to help with something like this.

 He loves page views and subscribers and would love your support!

 (And that's scary as shit for me to write because we all know YouTube is the 8th circle of hell, but I'm proud of his creativity and know the courage it takes to share it.)

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Super 4

Confession time:

1. I'm the only person in the house who hasn't outgrown Playmobil toys. When little kid put his in the "to donate" pile last summer, I begged him to reconsider. They are the only playset involving more than one piece that I don't hate. I just think they're so cute and have so much potential for creative play and imagination. Also, if I have to accidentally step on something, I'm picking Playmobil over Lego every time.

2. I use playdates as a cover for hanging out with my own friends.

So when Netflix offered to send us a Super 4 party pack if we would host a viewing party for the new Playmobil show, I said yes since it was a win/win for me.

When I asked little kid to watch it, he was initially reluctant and insisted that he was too old (because he's all grown up at 8). I told him he only had to watch one 11-minute episode and offer his honest opinion. He watched three, laughed the whole time, and did that annoying thing where he repeats every line he thinks is funny.

There was a lot of repeating.

He eventually admitted that he loved it and would continue to watch. The show features four children: one girl pirate, one boy genius spy, one ditzy fairy girl, and a knight. I was also pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed the show -- it was cute, funny for a wide age range, a great length, and I loved that there was a girl pirate character.

A friend of mine has her own Super 4 -- a 9-year-old, 4-year-old, and two 2-year-olds, which I'm pretty sure qualifies her for multiple awards and a free, all expenses paid vacation with a nanny. She's like one-stop shopping for a guest list, which is very convenient for me and all of my projects.

Early on in the evening, before we even broke out the wine (which is a must for medicinal purposes around that many kids) she yelled out, "Dude, where are your pants?!?" and I turned to find a small person wearing a polo shirt, underoos, and sandals. It was a situation that didn't faze any of the party attendees and we briefly debated if requiring pants at a public park was even worth the effort.

Here's our crew. All wearing pants:

We attempted to feed them the nice picnic meal we had brought, but between people setting their watermelon slices directly into duck poop instead of the plates we so thoughtfully provided and lying about who finished their chicken so they could have cookies, we mostly gave up. We were just feeling lucky people were clothed at that point.

We got the wine out then. We drank it quickly. 

While we tried to eat our dinner, they gathered around and begged to do the silly string duel. We promised that they would. The wheedled and pleaded and got territorial about colors and asked repeatedly until our resolve was broken. We gulped down our wine and set them up just to make the noise stop. 

We started off very organized; a sheet down to collect the mess, people carefully paired up, rules explained: 

Soon we just gave them all a can and let them go wild. We may have even contributed to the chaos by getting involved in the shooting. No one stayed on the sheet and we had to clean up every piece in order to protect the ducks that poop on the picnic tables. And by we, I mean the moms, of course. 

Afterwards, little kid offered one of the Playmobil shields to the boy twin. 

"You wants me to hab dis?" he asked. 

"Yes, it's for you." 

"To keeps?"


"Oh! Huggy?" he asked, arms outstretched. 

When I brought it up with little kid later, he smiled and said, "Yeah. That was cute. He gives really good hugs." 

"I saw that," Big Kid said. "I kind of wanted a hug too." 

We relocated to the beach, where we were going to let the kids run free while we toasted the sunset. We Duggar-ed them up, assigning a big kid to a little kid like the Duggar family does so we could chill like Michelle.

It was a great plan but people still needed stuff constantly -- I pointed out that we should hire a sitter for the next playdate party.

Big Kid marched up to our chairs within minutes. "It's hard to watch my little. I feel like I'm chasing her, chasing her, chasing her, then I turn around and she is right there in my face." 

"Yep, I hear you. That's my reality," my friend said.

"Maybe you should consider not having four kids next time. I mean, if you ever get reincarnated or something, maybe have less kids." He advised. 

"That thought has definitely crossed my mind. Twins are kind of like a buy one get one deal, you know? But which one could I live without?" 

They all appeared then, wet and sandy and shivering. We wrapped them in towels and I pulled the twins onto my lap as we watched the sun set before us and the moon rise behind us. 

"What was your favorite part about Super 4?" I asked the boy twin, enjoying how they were both small enough to nestle easily into my arms.

"Da girl piwate. Dey was mean to her and see had sad eyes but see was still happy. Dat was what I liked, see was still happy eben doh see was sad." 

It was so insightful and sweet. Kids are so amazing. They make all of the chaos so worth it. 

"Ms. Ashwee? Can we has a sweepober at your house? For lots a days?" 

"Definitely. Very soon," I lied. 

Watch Super 4. Be happy even when you're sad. Find good excuses to spend quality time with your friends and their kids. 

And just say no to sleepovers. 

(This post was written as a member of the Netflix Stream Team but the opinions and actions are my own. I doubt Netflix endorses drinking at playdates or no-pants parties but I might be wrong there.)