“if you get that teacher, be ready to be teased a lot.” i told my daughter as we were discussing all things elementary.
“that’s ok, it is just like home, except for the learning part.” she said.
no learning at our home, yo.
i have been a mother for almost 19 years now.
there are things i hoped my children would not ever have to deal with in this life. if i could make things easier for them, i would.
last night, i got a text from my daughters that made my heart sink, it was all in caps.
THE FONDANT IS MADE!! I REPEAT THE FONDANT IS MADE!!!! the text screamed at my disbelieving eyes.
i had left them home alone, i should have known not to leave my children unattended.
my heart broke. they are now on a road i cannot travel.
it will only lead to theme parties, cupcakes, happy, colorful polka dot cakes, and too many other things that the tears in my eyes refuse to let me type.
i can only hope the spiral ends before they hit bottom and start giving gender reveal parties.
i tried to keep this from them. i told them it was too difficult to make. i told them only professional bakers have the tools to make fondant. this worked until they left my protected non-fondant world and googled a recipe.
“it’s not hard, it’s easy!” they told me accusingly.
they have now been exposed to chemicals such as light corn syrup and clear vanilla. chemicals i have tried to never allow in my home.
yes, we are on a road paved with fondant hell. i can only hope it does not lead to pinterest.
as my daughter told me, while crying, the other coach at a softball tournament laughed at her when she made an error as catcher, i felt the murderous rage slowly building as i questioned her.
did i mention she is 10 years old?
while feeling this rage, i started planning ahead, because someone without a plan is just someone’s wench.
“how many cigs would i need to get a shiv in prison?”
“could i make my own shiv?”
“am i willing to save my own poo to throw at people in case of a riot?”
“what movies should i watch? shawshank redemption? orange is the new black? breaking bad? sons of anarchy? madea goes to jail?”
“is my family willing to bring in contraband using uncomfortable body parts?”
realizing that no prison can hold me, i shall commence emotional warfare next time i see this coach who thinks it is ok to mess with my daughter.
he has already given me a head start as he is fat, ugly, and walks with a limp.
step off chuck norris, mama’s in town.
i understand that it has been said that your family is all that matters.
friends will come and go.
spouses will come and go.
pets will come and go.
basically anything that can come, will go.
but i am here to tell you there is a time when it is ok to cut all family ties, and here it is:
when one of those family members that neither come nor go, give birthday to children who only come and go early in the morning,
it is time to let them go.
let them go without guilt.
everyone knows mornings are the part of the day that should be totally ignored and don’t really start until 10 am.
and the birth of these morning loving children by this sibling made me realize what we told her when she was younger is true,
she is adopted.
yesterday i said “let’s just relax and stay home today!”
the children said “yay! our mom is a genius!”
no they did not, but they did agree with the relax.
i took rosy to get her hair done.
i took ella for a walk to get a sno cone. ben did not want to go, but requested a sno cone be brought home to him.
i took emma for a rickshaw ride and splash pad.
i took keats to a job interview and bank.
i took ella to go pick up her friend to play at our house.
i stayed home and did chores.
i stayed home and made water balloons.
dinner, although i would have gladly left home for this.
i took emma for a car ride.
from what i can gather from yesterday, my children do not understand the ‘relax’ concept.
or rather, the relaxing that involves me.
i shall now amend my next relax day to ‘let’s have a relax and mute day’
that way no one can ask me to take them anywhere.
i came inside to find this last night:
these two relaxed so much, they grew mustaches and snappy little goatees.
we like to grow ’em big and hairy.
my mother, step back!
anyone who knows my mom knows this woman is tough.
no, tough is too sissy of a term for her.
she if T.U.F.F. (most of you know i do not use capital letters often on my blog, so that puts an emphasis on her toughness)
don’t believe me?
let me regale you with examples that will sway even the most ardent disbelievers.
1) the epic battle with the goat……my mother owned an orange terry cloth robe when i was growing up. i am sure it started out fluffy, but she is so tough i only remember it being well-worn. anyways, we were watching out the back door as our mother took on the neighbor’s goat who just happened to be eating in her garden, a garden he was clearly not invited to. there was the goat standing on his hind legs kicking at my mother and there was my mother…
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