This past Saturday and Sunday mornings were spent running a lot of errands with my two kids. Two kids who, apparently, don't understand that it's possible to ride in a back seat without constant bickering and occasional sibling slapping.

After hours upon hours of listening to them argue, my head popped off.

Okay, my head didn't pop off, but it felt like it would. Maybe that is why I suddenly yelled, "STOPPPPPPP!!!" You know, to relieve all of that pressure.

It was quiet for a moment, then my son said, "I want a new mom."

I replied, "Why would you say that?"

He said, "Because you yelled."

After I apologized for *ahem* raising my voice because of two days worth of constant squabble that would make even the most solid brain turn to mush, or make dogs howl, or make ears bleed, I told my son that he shouldn't wish for a new mom because he might get a mom who yells more, or one who doesn't read to him, or make him dinner, or love him so much, or...well the list went on and on.

None of that phased him. He was determined to be rid of me.

So, I did what any mom whose head almost popped off would do. I pulled over to an old, run-down house and told my son to go knock on the door and ask for a new mom.

He looked at the home, with its overgrown bushes, tall grass and covered windows and asked, "Can we go see if there's a new mom at a better house?"

Labels: Mom Logic, Shameless Statements

You may remember how, recently, my mom called my niece's Volvo, a "vulva". And, a few days ago she was telling me a story about my oldest sister getting seasick when she called a catamaran, a "Cameron". Like my sister was floating around on a person's back.

Yesterday, my mom was telling me about a pair of shoes.

We were sitting at her kitchen table when she mentioned that she got some new clogs. She was trying to describe them to me when she finally said, "Oh, you know, they're those Gators that you and the kids have."

Labels: Mom Logic, Ramblings

One way I can be sure that summer is coming to its beautiful end is the addition of socks to the laundry.

My son has run around in Crocs since school let out. Actually, they're the same pair of Crocs he wore last summer. He's a slow grower. He wore a pair of 3T shorts the other day. He's eight.

My daughter wore her black, hand-me-down sandals all summer. She most definitely did not wear the cute, brown-leather flip-flops, for which we went back and forth to the store because the size wasn't quite right. You know, the ones that cost actual dollars.

I get used to laundry sans socks when the kids are out of school; other than softball and baseball socks, which are knee-high and black or knee-high and red. Meaning...the pair is easy to make.

My kids wear uniforms to school and their ankles have to be covered. So now, I will be carrying around a lot of socks until next June. I tote them up and down the stairs because I can't find the mate and keep waiting for it to turn up. This is my laundry basket and the socks I carry around week to week.

Labels: Family Life, Kids, Mom Logic, Ramblings

My 76 year old mom is well known for her mispronunciation.

But, I think she topped herself today when she called my niece's car a "Vulva".

Labels: Family Life, Mom Logic, Shameless Statements

A couple of days ago, I sat down with my husband and kids to watch an Oprah rerun featuring Dr. Oz. He was discussing the diabetes epidemic in America.

I wanted my 11 year old daughter to see the show, because she loves food that is horrible for her. If I let allowed it, she would eat doughnuts for breakfast, bologna on white bread for lunch and chicken nuggets for dinner. With extra dipping sauce.

I don't let her. I buy plenty of fruits and vegetables, whole wheat bread and pasta and she is not allowed to drink soda unless it's a special occasion or if she sneaks one at a friend's house. Don't think you're fooling me, girl. She is in the 50th percentile for height and weight. She is healthy. For now.

I wanted her to see that, given the opportunity, she needs to make her own good decisions about nutrition. I don't want her to end up like me. I can't even keep sweets in the house because I have no self-control. If only I was as obsessed with laundry as I am with sugar. No one would ever run out of underwear.

My eight year old son loves all food. My mom can't believe it. Really, it's like a grandparents dream come true. He never asks what's for dinner, he just sits down and starts eating everything on his plate. He weighs 42 pounds, so I'm pretty sure he's just trying to bulk up.

My boy craves pine-nut hummus and red peppers. He eats blueberries and raw veggies like they're going to stop harvesting them. Given his congenital heart disease, this is a good thing.

At the risk of losing readers who are also PETA members, I will admit that I have long said that I would be a vegetarian if someone else did all the food prep. All that washing and cutting...ugh.

Although I think I could survive without meat, you can't deny that it is awfully easy to make chicken. Boiled chicken, grilled chicken, baked chicken, rotisserie chicken hot and ready for consumption on the end-cap of my local grocery store...

I don't think my son would complain if I put him on a vegetarian diet either. Of course, he enjoys chocolate too. He's a lot like his mother.

Which can only mean one thing.

Someday, he is really going to like beer.

Labels: Dieting, Family Life, Kids, Mom Logic, Ramblings

I have mentioned before that my 75 year old mother has a tendency to make slight errors in her pronunciation of certain words.

Usually her terminology is good for a chuckle, but last night at dinner she had me completely stumped when she asked, "Diane, have you seen that HBO movie I told you about yet? The one about that acoustic girl."

I stared blankly. She continued, "Temple something..."

"Temple Grandin?"

She replied, "Yes! That's it."

"Mom, I think you meant to say autistic."

Though I suppose it's entirely possible that Temple played a mean guitar.

Labels: Family Life, Mom Logic, Shameless Statements