Blended

Wordless Wednesday - November 2, 2011 - ARGH!

Messages from a 12-Year-Old

I went to an all-day meeting last week  Before I left, I reviewed the house rules: don’t hit, don’t bite, don’t scream, don’t make messes, don’t answer the door to strangers, don’t eat only chocolate all day long.

 

Then I reviewed the “contact rules.”  These rules are in place specifically so that my kids don’t call me in the middle of the meetings with “emergencies” such as: “I can’t find my book,” and “Emily is making fun of my body spray.”  The rules are basic.

 

Call if you have an emergency.

A real emergency.

No, your brother stealing your favorite toy is not an emergency.

An emergency involves blood, vomit or fire. 

 

If you call me to tattle, you are all grounded.

 

If you just have a question, text me.

 

I should have revised that last one.  It should have been if you have an IMPORTANT question, text me.  Then, perhaps, I should have defined “important” as well.

 

This is the text message conversation I had with my son today, during the meeting:

 

Can I use the computer?

$*jacked up camaro*$

Is the house clean?

 

Yea

$*jacked up camaro*$ 

    What is $*jacked up                                                                                                  camaro*$?

 

It’s my signature

$*jacked up camaro*$

 

What does it mean?

 

idk

$*jacked up camaro*$

$*Why is your signature something

that you don’t understand?*$

 

idk

$*jacked up camaro*$

 

Can I play the wii?

$*jacked up camaro*$

If you change your signature 

so that it isn’t stupid? 

$*You don’t know what it is*$

 

K

$*Poned*$     

What is poned???

 

It means like dissed      

$*Poned*$

(Pause for some research)                  

"Actually, according to Urban

Dictionary, it means: Something

the Jonas Brothers messed up.

Poser lingo for the internet slang

word 'pwned' as in being owned

or disgraced by someone else.

EX: 10 Year old Jonas Brothers Fan:

Omg like you got poned."

 

Oh.  Can I watch fast 5?

$*jelly beans*$         

no.

 

Can I go to the movies?

$*just do it*$

no.

 

 

Can I hang out with Matt?  

$*Mom is cool*$

yes.

$*well played*$

 

Copyright © Jody Hoffman 2011

15 Seconds

I saw my husband for about an hour today…in 15 second intervals.

 

At 7am, I saw him for 15 seconds while I raced out the door with 6 kids in tow.

 

At 11:15 am, I saw him out my classroom window when he texted me “unlock the doors to your car,” because Levi had left his backpack in my trunk.

 

At 12:20, I saw him when he ran into my classroom, threw my forgotten lunch to me and then flew off to get Gabby to preschool on time.

 

At 3:45, I ran into the house after school and passed him as he ran out so that he could watch the first half of Sam’s football game.  He sent me text message updates while I organized the girls for their piano lesson and tried to do the dishes.

 

At 4:45, we waved lovingly at each other as we drove by in opposite directions when we switched places at halftime.   I was armed with the camera so that I could embarrass Sam by making him pose for a photo – serves him right for forgetting his picture envelope on professional photo day!

 

At 5:45, we waved again, this time as he was taking some kids to soccer and I was flying home to meet the ones still in piano lessons.  (I think our piano teacher thinks we’re nuts.  I’m just thankful there’s another adult in the house so we can leave some kids there for a minute or two!)

 

At 6:15, I arrived at the soccer game with the last piano-player and thought we would finally get a few minutes to chat.  Then my phone rang.  Sam had taken the bus back to school after his game and thought he had a ride home, but alas…

 

At 7:00, when the soccer game ended, we saw each other for a frantic 11 seconds while the girls ran into the house, flinging clothing as they went up the stairs so that they could change and get back out the door for the basketball practice we had forgotten about which started at 7:20.

 

We were technically in the same house from 8:15 to 9:15, but I’m not sure we ever even made eye contact!  Between finishing homework, laying out clothes and finding all the pieces of everyone’s backpacks for tomorrow, we just shouted information up and down the stairs:

 

Down: Location of Dora the Explorer Backpack??

 

Up: Got it!

 

Down: Do the girls need gym shoes tomorrow?

 

Outside: Do you girls need gym shoes tomorrow?

 

Inside: No!

 

Up: No!

 

Down:  Levi just said he’s Star of the Week!  Do you know anything about this?

 

Text to Levi’s Mom: Do you know anything about Star of the Week?

 

Text back:  Yup! Done.

 

(Phew.  Thank goodness there are so many adults in this equation.)

 

Up:  Yup!  Done! 

 

Down: Where’s the Guinea Pig?

 

Up: What?!?!?

 

You get the idea…

 

At 9:15, I saw my husband for approximately 9 second before we both completely passed out.  Maybe we’ll have a conversation tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

Win a Uprinting Poster! (My First Giveaway)

My first giveaway – you could be the winner!

 

So my 12-Year-old, remember him?  He’s playing football this year for the first time.  I was SO excited, and even remembered not to call him “cute” in his football uniform.  Although I usually order the bare minimum when it comes to pictures from sports, this time I went all out – I filled that envelope out and checked off every box.  Stickers?  Yup!  Magnet? Yup!  Wall Poster of my 12-year-old in his adorable outfit?  YUP!  But, unfortunately, my 12-year-old, being a 12-year-old, left that stinkin’ envelope on the counter on picture day.  No wall-poster for me. 

 

But that same day, I found out about UPrinting, and online printing company!  They will do all the same things as the photographer who came to the field, but get this...cheaper!

 

And, of course, this awarded me the opportunity to embarrass my child in front of all his teammates at his last game while he assumed the correct pose for these photos…on the 50 yard line.  Sorry, dude.  Next time remember your stinkin’ envelope.

 

Now YOU can win poster prints too!  The winner of this prize will receive one 18x24 poster print of a photo of your choosing, in semi gloss or high gloss.  Included in your prize is free shipping and one-business-day turn around time for printing. You could also check out their custom posters!

 

This contest is limited to US residents 18 years old and above only.

 

Here’s how to enter:

-Leave a comment below and tell us what photo you will blow up to poster size!  Be sure to include your email address so I can let you know if you win! 

How to get extra entries (leave a separate comment below for each):

-Follow Uprint on Twitter and tweet:  “I entered to win a free poster on www.blended.typepad.com/”

-Like Uprint on Facebook

 

 

This giveaway is sponsored by UPrinting, no monetary compensation was given and I will receive a poster for hosting.

 

GO TO SLEEP!

A few weeks ago, Bill came trudging upstairs with yet another load of laundry.  At the top of the steps, he found 6 children in various stages of chaos and undress, 2 dogs yapping away and chewing on shoes, and his wife very close to a complete mental breakdown.

 

“I think,” he observed calmly, “that you should write a story about this.” 

 

Why in the world, I wondered, would I ever want to keep thinking about the bedtime insanity routine after it is all over?

 

Because, dear readers, you like hearing about how completely nuts it is over here, and I like keeping you entertained.  So here goes.

 

The story starts at 7:00pm on a typical Wednesday night in my home. The children are each currently concentrating on completely destroying one section of the house.  Sam is taking every toy out in the playroom in an effort to find his lost cell phone.  Levi is pulling each of my necklaces down off the hooks so that he can tie them all in an intricate knot that will never be untied.  Gabby has climbed up onto my dressing room table and is giving herself a haircut with my nail scissors.  The 9-year-olds are deep in conversation about planning outfits for tomorrow, which of course means they have emptied their closet.

 

I am in the kitchen, surveying the damage done by dinner and talking myself out of taking a glass of wine out to the deck and pretending I’m single.

 

Then I realize that we still have to make lunches, lay out clothes, bathe and pajamafy the kids and then figure out how to get them into bed and make them stay there.  I call Bill up from the basement where he has been hiding doing laundry.  “Ready?” I ask…

 

The truth is that an army boot camp could not prepare anyone for the next two hours, but we go in anyway.

 

We pack healthy, balanced lunches with the knowledge that they will be a) forgotten, b) thrown away or c) traded for candy the next day. 

 

We lay out beautifully matched outfits, knowing full well that the children will wear whatever the heck they want, and probably spill something on whatever they pick before they even get out the door.  Why do we even buy nice clothes anyway?  We should just make coveralls out of those plastic tablecloths and just wipe ‘em down when they make a mess.

 

We herd piles of children into bathtubs and showers and try to get soap and water on them while at the same time NOT getting soap and water on the bathroom ceiling.  (The floor is a lost cause.)  We corral naked children towards bedrooms and wrestle them into pajamas. 

We go downstairs for a few minutes to catch our breath, and when we come back up we find the children half-naked again, running around like nuts, inexplicably covered in paint!  We re-bathe, concentrating less on the ceiling, because at this point who even cares.  We re-pajamafy and this time stay focused until we get every single one into bed.  Then we tuck, read, sing, kiss, hug, repeat times six.  We sneak out of their rooms…

 

“Daddy!  I thirsty!”

“Mommy!  I can’t find Mr. Teddy!”

“Dad!  Why can’t I wear the blue shirt tomorrow?”

“Mom!  Did you count the hamsters tonight?  I only see 3.”

“Daddy!  More kiss please.”

“Mo-om!  I forgot to do my science homework!  It’s a 20 page research paper on static electricity that was assigned last week but I didn’t start it yet!”

 

Oh for goodness sakes.  I’m going downstairs to do laundry hide with Bill.  I hope you’re sufficiently entertained.

 

Epilogue:  Sam found his cell phone one week later...in the washing machine.  Gabby has visited the hair salon and now has a lovely set of bangs.  I have separated almost all of the necklaces that Levi tied up, and the contents of the girls' closet still reside on the floor of their room. 

Another Good Reason for Helmets

I just screamed, “GO SAM GO!  Knock him down!”

 

This is a little out of character for me.  So much so, that my husband turned to me with one eyebrow raised and asked, “Feeling ok?”

 

I generally try to steer my children down a peaceful path – biting, kicking and hitting siblings with hard objects is forbidden in my house and they all listen, most of the time.  Well…some of the time.

 

Occasionally.

 

The point is, I yell at them when I catch them doing it.

 

So what has changed to allow me to shout these words to my son?  Well first of all, a helmet and heavy padding…  and second – he has joined the middle school football team.   He’s watched a lot of football, but never played in any sort of organized way, so I was not 100 percent in favor of this decision when he first announced it.  But, he managed to talk me into it.  There was a slight setback in my backing of the plan, though, when he came to my bedroom at midnight the night before the first practice.

 

“Mom?”

“Yes…”

“Can I borrow your computer?”

“What?!?!  It’s midnight!”

“But Mom!  It’s really important!  I have to Google something!”

“What could you possibly have to Google at this hour?”

“Um…Football.”

 

Okay, when you know so little about a sport that you have to Google it before the first practice, I’m pretty sure it’s not going to turn out well.

 

I bit my tongue, handed over the computer and later googled "How protective are middle school football helmets?"

 

Last week was the first game.  He looked absolutely adorable out there in his cute little outfit, although I have learned enough about being a “cool mom” to know not to tell him that.   Or to call “Look Out Sweetie!” during a game.  Instead, after the game I said, “Looking cool out there, Dude.”  For this I was rewarded an eyeroll and a secret smile I wasn’t supposed to see.

 

So football has turned out to have several bonuses.  First of all, with 2 hour practices every single day, he is way too tired to argue with me (most of the time) and, although he has always been kind of a picky eater, he now eats everything in sight.  Even if it’s a vegetable.  He has also learned some discipline, made some great friends, and, most importantly, is starting to show some serious school spirit!  (This is good, seeing as his mother is the one who loves Homecoming Spirit Week so much that she wore a full blonde curly wig and a sparkly silver guitar to be Taylor Swift on Celebrity Day…)

 

That’s not to say I don’t still have my worries.  I worry that Sam, my four-foot-eight-hasn’t-gone-through-the-middle-school-growth-spurt kid will get paired up with some huge six-foot-tall-probably-smushes-little-kids-into-his-locker kid.  This brings me to my next worry that when he gets tackled for the first time there will be tears (mine).  But my biggest fear, by far, is that if I don’t learn any more about this confusing sport, I’m going to make a fool of myself and ruin my cool-mom status.  Oh wait – I already did:  At yesterday’s game, I thought I had figured it all out – I just cheered when everyone else cheered.  This worked really well… until I realized I was sitting in the other team’s section. 

 

Guess it’s time to spend some quality time on the couch with my husband this weekend watching the NFL…  Go Cubs!  (I mean….err…Bears!  That “C” on their helmets is so confusing.)

 

Hey!  By the way – did you notice how many cool football terms I learned?  I’ve been Googling.  Don’t tell Sam – he just thinks I’m cool enough to know this crap.

Awkward...

I just bought $30 worth of stuff that I don’t need from a fundraiser.

 

I bought the stuff because I was in the middle of a super-awkward situation.

 

It was awkward because I answered the door in my jammies…and found two of my students standing there.

 

I was in my jammies at 8:30 because I had to beat the kids to the shower if I wanted any hot water.

 

The kids were racing to the shower because they were sweaty and disgusting.

 

They were sweaty and disgusting because they had been running around like crazy lunatics all day.

 

I was sweaty and disgusting because I had been running around like a crazy lunatic with them (or at least FOR them).

 

Right before I got in the shower, I’d been at the mall.

 

We were at the mall at 8:00pm on a school night because my 12-Year-Old had just announced that his football cleats were too small and he needed new ones for practice…tomorrow.

 

He told me this at 7:30pm because we were just picking his sister up from soccer and the cleats reminded him.

 

We were picking her up from soccer at 7:30 because we were late.

 

We were late because we went out to dinner.

 

We went out to dinner because I raced around like a crazy lunatic all afternoon and I didn’t have four seconds to pee, forget about make dinner.

 

We were late to dinner because the soccer coach was late so I spent 20 minutes in the soccer field parking lot with Bill’s ex wife.

 

I was with Bill’s ex-wife because our kids play on the same soccer team.

 

They play on the same team because otherwise this would be insane.  Oh wait.  It already is.

 

Before soccer, I was all the way on the other side of town waiting to pick up Sam from football. 

 

I was waiting because he forgot to text me and tell me the right time and I was worried about being that-mom-who-always-picks-her-kid-up-late.

 

He forgot to text me because ADD is hereditary.

 

Before racing to the football field so I could wait for 30 minutes, I was zooming through the McDonald’s Drive-Through.

 

I was zooming through the McDonald’s drive through because I realized I had only 10 minutes to feed Hannah before picking up her brother and then taking Hannah to soccer practice.

 

I only had 10 minutes because we had to run home and get her cleats and soccer shorts from the house and while we were there the stupid dogs got out and we had to chase them and put them back in.

 

The dogs got out because we were hurrying.

 

We were hurrying because I had been late to pick her up from her friends’ house so we needed to get her soccer stuff quickly.

 

I was late to pick her up from her friend’s house because my doctor’s appointment ran over.

 

My doctor’s appointment ran over because the doctor was punishing me for being late to his office in the first place.

 

I was late to his office in the first place because…. Need I really go on?

 

This is ridiculous.  Work is like a vacation on a tropical island compared to the 6 hours between the last bell and when the kids go to bed.

 

Copyright © Jody Hoffman 2011

 

 

This is (Apparently) What COOL Looks Like

Tonight I took my 12-Year-Old son and his friend to the high school football game.  Sam wore the second most ridiculous outfit I’ve ever seen.  (It is second because today was “Superhero Day” at the high school and when I dropped him off, I saw a senior boy wearing tights…and underwear on the outside.  Plus a cape.  But until that dude, Sam took the prize)

  This is (apparently) what cool looks like.

I was dying to be the “Cool Mom,” but a little nervous about sending him off on his own.  So, I did what was necessary:

 Boys, It’s time for the Mommy Talk.  Brace yourselves.  

 I outlined some basic rules for survival:

     1.  Don’t talk to strangers.

     2.  Don’t do drugs.

     3.  Don’t drink.

     4.  Call me when the fourth inning starts.

                      Mo-om! It’s a QUARTER! Not an inning!  

                      (Whoops! I’m on a Middle-school-mom-learning curve.)

    5.  Don’t leave the stadium until I text you to say I’m there.

                      (Phew! Back on track with the cool texting abilities.)

 

Then I quizzed them:

    What will you say if someone offers you drugs?

        No.

    What will you say if someone offers you a beer?

        No.

    What will you do at the beginning of the fourth inning?

        Call you.

    When can you leave the stadium?

        When you text us.

    What will you say if a cute girl talks to you?

        ‘Sup.  (‘Sup?  Really? I’m not sure that’s going to work.)

 

Feeling satisfied that they had passed my test and would not be partaking in any illegal activities, (or having particularly meaningful conversations with girls), I dropped them off, said a little prayer and went back to the houseful of screaming girls waiting for me. (Nine-year-old sleepover parties are scarier than Walmart on Black Friday.)

When he called to say that it was the fourth quarter (from a friend’s phone because he had lost his…) I was ready.  I jumped into the car and hurried down to the stadium so I could be the first one in the Mommy Pick Up Line, and therefore the first one out of the parking lot.  I saw Sam’s group of friends come running out, all dressed like complete fools.  Sam and his friend jumped excitedly into the car. 

“Wow!  They Sucked!” said my well-mannered child. 

“Don’t say suck,” I replied. 

“Mom.  We lost 46 to 0.” 

“Oh,” I allowed.  “That sucks.”

 

Then they started talking about somebody being somebody else’s BFFLE.

BFFLE?  I’m racking my Cool Mom brain, but…nothing.

“You know,  Mom, Best Friend For, Like, Ever?”

 “Oh.”  Sorry I asked.

 

I gave them the post-test for their evening just to check in.

    Did you do drugs?

        No.

    Did you drink?

        No.

    Did you leave the stadium?

        No.

    Did you talk to girls?

        No. (You mean [gasp] ‘sup didn’t work?)

 

After we dropped off his friend, Sam rewarded my efforts with the biggest compliment I have received to date:

“You’re the coolest mom, like, ever.”

 So I guess he didn’t notice I picked him up from the game wearing my pajamas?

 

Copyright © Jody Hoffman 2011

An Interview with Bill After a Day Alone with All Six Kids

The first day of school in our district is a half-day for kids, but a full day for teachers.  So, Bill stayed home to be in charge of the chaos while I vacationed at work.  That evening, after we managed to get everyone in bed and we collapsed onto the couch, I interviewed my exhausted husband about his experiences that day.

 

Me:  So… what did you think of your day with All Six Kids?

Bill:  It was pretty chaotic…

Me:  What time did your day start?

Bill: I woke up when your alarm went off at 5:45am.  I never sat down again all day.

Me: How did getting the kids ready for school go?

Bill:  We had six kids going six different directions.  Emily was raring to go, but Brianna and Sam had to be dragged out of bed.  I didn’t even try to get the little kids ready.  Everyone got their own breakfast and ate cereal, so all I had to do was clean up the disaster area in the kitchen when they were done.

Me: Tell me about driving them to school?

Bill:  Sam had to sit in the front because he’s the cool dude and was worried about getting dropped off in front of his friends from the backseat.  The girls were excited in the backseat and making all kinds of high-pitched noises.  Of course every person that lives in this town was driving to the same place, so there was a traffic jam…  Sam jumped out of the car and ran up to the first kid he saw:  “Dude!  Check out my stitches!”  Then we went back in the massive line of traffic and drove the ½ a block to the elementary school.  Emily wanted me to drive right up to the front door on the sidewalk.  Hannah wanted to be dropped off at the corner and Brianna didn’t really care – she just wanted out of the car! I got out of the car, gave them all a hug and sent them on their way

Me: Then what did you do?

Bill:  I took the little kids to McDonald’s because I forgot to feed them breakfast at home.  Then we went to the grocery store. 

Me: How did the grocery store trip go?

Bill: After dragging the little kids through the aisles and bribing them with treats, I realized I had forgotten my wallet and had to go all the way home again.

Me:  You?!?!  Forgot something?!?!

Bill: Do you KNOW what’s going on here during the day?!?!

Me: What time did the big kids get home from school?

Bill:  They had a half day, so they exploded into the house around 12:15.

Me:  How many of them walked in?

Bill: uh…8.

Me:  Who were the extras?

Bill:  One was a friend of the girls that has been here a million times, and the other one I had never met before.

Me: So what did you do about that?

Bill: I fed her lunch…

Me: How was the afternoon?

Bill: Yelling, Screaming, Door-Slamming, Hamsters-down-the-shirts Crazy.  I had to get my hair cut and my plan was to leave the little kids with the big kids.  But, judging from the complete chaos going on, I decided to take them with me.  Then we went back and did the grocery shopping…again.

Me: I noticed we ate dinner around 7:30, rather than your preferred time of 5:00.  What happened?

Bill:  Are you kidding me?  One day at work and you’ve completely forgotten the chaos?

Me:  What was the worst part of the day?

Bill: About fifteen minutes after everyone got home and the girls started putting the hamsters down each-other’s shirts and shrieking.  Why is that shrieking so high-pitched?!?!

Me: So overall, what was the best part of the day?

Bill:  When you got home.

Me: Awww…Did you miss me?

Bill: No, I was drowning in children and I was hoping you had a flotation device.

Me: How many days in a row do you think you can handle this?

Bill: I have to do it again?!?!

Me:  Now do you have a better understanding of why I love rum?

Bill: Yes.

 

 

Copyright © Jody Hoffman 2011

 

 

 

 

Back-To-School-Night or: Why We're Making Brianna a Bubble-Wrap Outfit

Monday night was Back to School Night for the Middle Schoolers.  I would have to be at work all day, and then go back for two hours in the evening to welcome the new students and their parents.  The night before, I had created a minute-by-minute schedule of the day so that everyone in my family would be exactly where they needed to be when they needed to be there. 

 

First I left everyone at home sleeping while I went to the teacher in-service day at school.  Eight hours later, I came home and found that no one had gone to the grocery store so we had no milk, no one had taken out the garbage, no one had done dishes and no one had taken out the hamburger to thaw for dinner.  Also, apparently, no one had seen my list of THINGS TO DO TODAY.

 

I found the list, handed it to Bill and the kids and went upstairs to try to find my lost school files before the Back To School Night presentation I was supposed to give in 90 minutes. 

 

The schedule for the day stated that it was imperative that we all eat dinner five minutes ago and then send Sam to shower so he could put on his coolest outfit to go see all his friends when the seventh graders came to meet their teachers.  Instead, 20 minutes before I was supposed to leave, the kids were all outside, Sam was still playing, and leftovers were being reheated for dinner.  I finally found the lost file.

 

I was about to change into the professional-but-not-stuffy outfit I had planned when Bill called up the stairs, calmly, “Um, Babe?  We’re going to the emergency room…” 

 

WHAT?!?!  There is no time for emergency room in The Schedule!

 

Wait!  I mean, Oh no!  What’s wrong!  (Sorry, momentary mommy lapse…)

 

I raced down the stairs to find my eldest son (still in his play clothes, still not having eaten dinner) with blood gushing out of a gash in his chin.  “Yup,” I agreed, “You’re going to the emergency room.” 

 

Bill whisked him away, and I grabbed my phone.  Who do I know that is NOT a middle school teacher OR a middle school parent and therefore free this evening to watch the other five kids?!?!!?  Thankfully, a good friend was free and willing!  She is pregnant and due next month, so I told her to think of this as boot camp and yelled directions over my shoulder as I dashed out the door…

 

“Don’t let Gabby play with the hamsters unsupervised!”

“Make sure you count them all when they’re done playing!” (I meant the hamsters, but I guess it works either way.)

“When in doubt just turn on the TV!”

“Popsicles are an outside food!”

“Good Luck!”

 

I raced into Back To School Night only 5 minutes late, wearing 2 different shoes.  I’m 90% certain that no one noticed and 100% certain that no one was going to mention it to The-Crazy-Lady-Wearing-Two-Different-Shoes-Who-May-Be-In-Charge-Of-My-Child’s-Education.

 

Bill brought Sam to Back to School Night a half hour late and with five stitches.  He was “totally psyched” to show his friends how tough he was.

 

After the event ended, Bill and I came home to find our friend, all five other children and all four hamsters.  She had survived!

 

“So, were you guys good?” I asked the children.  “Do you think she still wants to have kids?”

 

“Well,” said Emily, “I think we were okay…but it’s too late for her to change her mind anyway!”

 

This ER trip marks the fifth out of our six kids to go to the hospital in the past calendar year:  Levi went when he bit through his tongue on vacation last September.  Emily went when she broke her arm roller skating. Gabby went when we thought she had appendicitis (but she actually had constipation).  Hannah went when a cut on her arm became infected. 

 

We decided that it was time to make Brianna a bubble-wrap outfit and force her to wear a helmet at all times.  Just to be safe…

 

First Day - maybe the cool shoes will distract everyone from the five stitches in his chin...

 

 

Copyright © Jody Hoffman 2011