Mama.... What are burgers made from?

There comes a time when all children come to realize that their food comes from somewhere. Inevitably, they start to question where there food actually comes from. Yes..... stuff like steak and burgers and chicken and bacon and chops and stuff like that. When they come to learn where meat comes from, some children are shocked and panic and cry, others go back about their business and continue to nom. Some are not bothered by some things, but are bothered by others. I don't know. But there does come a time when it happens.

My daughter still doesn't quite "get it". She likes beef and chicken and turkey and ham and sausage and stuff and that it came from an animal, but doesn't still "get it". You know... The animal MAGICALLY makes the meat appear and that's how we get our tasty noms.... My boys, on the other hand, all know where meat comes from. They look at a pig and say, "LOOK! Fresh bacon!" They look at a cow and say, "You can be my hamburger someday!" They look at a deer and say, "YAY! Bambi burgers!" and they also understand that the animal has to die in order for us to get said tasty noms. None of them were really bothered by that. Meat is yummy. Yay meat! :shrug: OM NOM NOM NOM NOM.....

They are still very clueless as to the actual process of how we get said tasty noms though.... Maybe they're better off.

Sneaky....

There used to be a time when I kept crappy stuff in the house. Cookies and sweets and crap like that. Of course, I never understood how and why the stuff disappeared so quickly considering the fact that I doled them out so carefully to the kids. It turns out, they were sneaking them way early in the morning. It was the morning that I decided I was no longer going to keep the crap in the house. I mean, duh! If it's not in the house, I know that it's one place they wont' be eating it.

Obviously, I am not going to be able to keep them form the junk foods and crap and stuff, but trying to minimize them is an important thing. Not only have I minimized it, but they are learning about the healthy alternatives and are learning to enjoy eating the healthy alternatives the crap that they may encounter.

It's not to say they don't ever get the cookies and ice creams and stuff and junk, but I just don't see the need for them to have to have it all the time. They have to learn about how to eat healthy and how to be healthy and that has to start here at home with me. I can't exactly rely on them learning about it outside the home when they are constantly being bombarded by all sorts of fun ads for all sorts of crap that makes them want to scarf it all down because YUM! (Ew...) And all of that is enforced by consistently seeing overweight people all the time, which is becoming more commonplace these days. They need to constantly be retaught what health and nutrition is and what a healthy body is and what a healthy lifestyle is. But it HAS to start at home.

Someday, they will go out into the world on their own and I am really hoping that I have given them all the right tools that will allow them to be healthy and nutrition conscious people who know how to make healthy choices.

Seriously??!?!?!

We haven't even gotten past Halloween yet, and I haven't gotten over the shock at how expensive Halloween has become and FLABAMMO! My kids hand over their X'mas wish lists saying, "Well, you like to have them early so you can start budgeting, right?"

They didn't push their luck and just dropped them on my desk and backed slowly out of the room when they saw my eye start twitching and the forehead vein start to pulse......

The most dreaded time of the year approacheth...... Fuck!

Oh F#&*@!!!!!!!

The little ones may not have the words to express this sentiment, but you've certainly seen the look on their faces. That moment when they realize that they fucked up royal.
It's always amused me to no end to see that look on their little faces. It's universal and is rather ageless. No matter how old you are, it's always the same look. What amuses me most is that I can totally imagine the words that my younger children are thinking, despite the fact that they may not have those precise words to vocalize.
An amusing thought I've been reflecting on....

Mmm hmmmm.......

"Mmm hmmm...." is great. A good portion of the time, it means the person saying it isn't listening. Kids are the most awesome at it. They LOOK like they're paying attention and are nodding their heads and smiling and acknowledging you, but the reality is, they had checked out of the conversation some time back.
I think I'd be less annoyed if they were to come right out and SAY they weren't listening... :s

The "homework" fights...

Homework gets done right after school in our household. The three younger ones, no issues. They sit down at the table, get it done and off they go to play or whatever. Teen broody pants? Not so much.
He gets home from school and he gives me the obligatory eye roll. I ask him how his day was, he grunts, I tell him to go do his homework, he gives me the sigh of exasperation and trudges off mumbling something under his breath. EVERY DAY. And that's on the days he comes home from school and not off at a friend's house or a girlfriend's house or something. And of course, I've got to go get him.
I mean, seriously? Just the other day, he had to write down the definitions of four, count them FOUR words. It took him nearly an hour and a half. NOT kidding. HE wrote in pen and made a mistake so he screamed at the paper for about a minute, crumpled it up and got a new sheet of paper. Started again and made ANOTHER mistake. I asked him why he wasn't using a pencil. Apparently, they HAVE to use a pen. Whatever. After crumbling up the second piece of paper and retrieving a third to start ALL OVER AGAIN (because apparently, wasting paper is fine...) he made a third mistake. I told him NOT to throw out another sheet of paper, get off his lazy ass and get the white out. Trudging off and mumbling some more obscenities under his breath, he "got lost". After five minutes, I went to go find him. He was in his room playing on his computer. He no longer has one now. That makes me a stupid cow.
Back downstairs, he whites out his mistake and continues. He finds the definition of the first word (yes, the FIRST word) and writes part of it down, loses the page in the dictionary and throws a temper tantrum. Homework is stupid, I'm stupid and the dictionary is stupid too. AWESOME! Then he needed a potty break. He went into the bathroom to poop.... for twenty minutes. It turns out, he was playing with his iPhone.
I can't even begin to tell you how much of a struggle his homework issues can be. It's awesome. Yeah..... June can't come fast enough and when do the teen boy male hormones start to balance out? FUCK!

Car rides.......

I hate being stuck in a car for onger than about 30 minute. After that, I tend to get a little fidgety and cranky. Hitting a snag in the road makes me even MORE so. Never a good time.

So, we ended up stuck in traffic on I-95. The kids and I were in the car, with  the windows down all the way. What else is a mom to do? So, we blast some tunes on the stereo and have a sing along. I am talking karaoke staples as well as some beloved tunes from my misspent youth. Winning moment? When the carful of dudes next to us started belting out Skid Row lyrics with us as we crept along in traffic! YAAAAAAAS!!!!!!!!!

Oops! Boom!

In trying to get my kids NOT to be crybaby sissy pansies, I instituted the "Oops! Boom!" every time they fell. I wanted to make sure that they weren't going to cry and wail EVERY time they fell regardless of whether or not they hurt themselves. Heck, even when they did kind of hurt themselves... It doesn't make the situation better when the child is losing their mind because they scraped their knee. No need for the fucking drama. It's stupid.

In keeping with that though, as the mama, I have to set the example and at least practice what I preach. The thing of it is, as I discovered, is that "little kid falling down" and "adult falling down" are two VERY different things. It's not the same kind of "injury" because as an adult, I no longer have those rubber bones and unlike a kid, these boo boos stayed injured for a lot longer than the five minutes it takes for a kid to get over injuries.... Kids are a lot more resilient then adults are. It's not to say that kids don't feel the ouch and because of their lack of life experience, a little ouch can be a pretty big ouch. As an adult, yeah, it sucks to get injured, but likely, you aren't going to cry about it and scream for a bandaid while sucking your thumb and hugging onto a Mr. Cuddlebunny or something. But the fall down ouchies....

I once watched my daughter take a tumble down three steps. It scared the ever loving crap out of her, it scared the ever loving crap out of me, it shortened my life expectancy by about three years and I think I may have soiled myself a little. My daughter got up right away, wide eyed and freaked out, but none the worse for wear. I yelled out, "Oops! Boom! You're okay!" Gave her a once over and a hug. She had a small moment, but five minutes later, she was running around and laughing and playing like nothing ever happened. The incident was forgotten.

I took a tumble down those same three steps, much in the same fashion. I was in pain for a week and I almost wanted to cry about it. Of course, because my daughter was watching, I had to jump up like I was totally okay and smile, even though I wanted to cry a little, and act like everything was fine as I yelled out, "Oops! Boom!" My daughter laughed and I joined her (although, it probably almost sounded like I was crying...) and to her, the incident was forgotten. I don't think I've ever taken so much ibuprofen and Aleve.....

I know what needs to be done. We're having those three steps removed. Fuck it....

Life Lessons....

It wasn't this guy. Ours was a little younger and had the bluest
eyes you could imagine...... 

My youngest and I went to the grocery store some time ago and while walking through the parking lot, she suddenly stopped and looked off into the corner of the lot by the stairs leading up to the upper level where there are other stores. I looked down at her and asked, "What's up?" thinking she had spotted an animal in need of rescue or a random shiny thing or a rock or something that needed a friend. Don't you DARE judge her.

She turned to look up at me and said, "Why does that man look so sad?" So, I looked to where she was pointing. No one there....

Creeped out, I asked, "..... What man?"

She looked over again and said, "The man at the stairs...."

I'm looking, but I see no one there. So, in situations like these, because I'm so calm, cool and collected, and handle situations like these with grace and style, I started freaking the fuck out and sweating and kind of wanting to scream and run away, thinking that my daughter is seeing ghosts, like that creepy looking kid in that movie where he's all like, "I see dead people....." Shut up. Don't judge me.

So, I turned to my daughter, and asked again, in a slightly more desperate tone, "WHAT MAN??!?!?!!?!?"

She's looking at me like I'd lost my mind and soiled my pants. I think I may have done a little of both, but I will not confirm or deny having done either. And she then rolled her eyes and sighed loudly and started dragging me over to where the stairs were. Being the ever so level headed individual that I am, I started running through all the haunting movie scenarios and creepy, scary stuff that happens in nightmares and started nope, nope, nope-ing as I tried to drag her back the other way, ready to run for it, dragging her with me, as I fired rounds over my shoulder. Don't judge me!

She was insistent and started pulling me back. And then I looked back over towards those stairs and I saw a flash of movement. I think at this point, I DID soil myself and internally started to pray to every god, saint and holy deity I could remember to save us from some evil spirit that would haunt us for eternity. You know, because I am such the logical thinker and not a weirdo with a wild imagination and stuff...... Shut up. Don't judge me I said!!!

Then I saw his face as he leaned forward from where he sat a little. Old and haggard. Tired and worn. Eyes like windows, looking right down into his sad, sad soul. Then I felt like an asshole for wanting to run away and I started to approach him. Slowly and cautiously, but I did. I mean, don't get me wrong. Stranger danger and all.... Here I am, a small framed woman, in a parking lot, dragging around my 6 year old, and I've run across a stranger. Yes, my radar was up and I was ready to do whatever I needed to do in order to ensure mine and my daughter's safety. Duh. Don't judge me!!

So, I called out to him. "Hey, guy.... You okay?"

His voice sounded exhausted, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Down on his luck...... It wasn't always like this.... "I used to have a job and a home...... Now he was just doing whatever he could just to eat and get by....." He went around collecting cans and bottles for the 5 cent return on each. On that day, he managed to rake in a whopping $3.25. It's a story you've heard a thousand times, but yet, each one remains unique from every individual you hear it from. He sounded dejected and ashamed. I know. You're thinking, "Don't they all..... SUCKER!" Whatever. Stop judging me.

I told him to give me ten minutes and I went inside the store. I grabbed wipes, bread, PB and jelly, plastic utensils, paper plates, napkins, water, crackers, cookies, nuts and granola bars. Things I thought would keep for a couple of days so that he can actually go through it and have something for the next few days. I went back outside and handed him the bags of groceries and stuff and the six pack of clean water. He was so grateful and wouldn't stop thanking me. I also handed him a twenty and told him to make sure that went towards food. He promised it would. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. You shouldn't hand a homeless guy cash because he might use it on booze and drugs.... Shut up. Don't judge me.....

Some woman, who watched this exchange, went into self righteous lecture mode, telling me that I'm not making things better for the man by enabling his behaviors. That he put himself in that position. It was his own fault he was homeless, hungry and miserable. Blah, blah, blah..... The poor guy was about to say something, but I'd already had enough of this woman. I put up my hand to stop him and gave him the, "You do NOT have to explain yourself to this cunt, I got this...." look. Don't fucking judge me!

So, I turned to her and spoke exactly what was on my mind. Well, apparently, "Jesus lady! Who kicked sand into your vagina this morning?" wasn't the response she was looking for. I went on to explain to her that it was MY money that I was giving, MY time I was sparing and MY business what I did with both, not hers. The woman walked away in a huff, mumbling something about "those kind of people" and what  rude bitch I was..... Whatever. Stop judging me!!!!!!

My daughter witnessed all of it with a tear in her eye. She crouched down close to him feeling visibly terrible for the man without a home. The man looked quietly at me and asked if he could address my daughter directly. What he said nearly shattered my heart. He said something along the lines of:

"Don't you cry for me little one. I do want to thank you though for noticing me here today. It's not often that people do. I was feeling quite low. I know I must look a shambles and it might be a little scary, but underneath all of this, I am just a man. A very sad man. I came home after fighting in a war overseas and I saw a lot of things I wish I hadn't. I thought coming home would be wonderful. But I had lost my house, I had lost my family, I had lost everything. Now I come here to sit and think about what I'm going to do with myself from here on out. Then you came with this here generous gift you and your mother gave me, I have a few less worries and I can't thank you enough. God bless you both..... God, bless you both"

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I mean, I don't think I knew how to respond to that and I don't think most of the information that was disseminated to my daughter fully computed in her mind. But it didn't stop her from giving the guy a nice long hug and a kiss on the cheek.  It brought the man to tears. He assured us that they were happy tears, but none the less.... he went on to say:

"Not too many people notice me sittin' here, none the less take the time to talk to me. They're either afraid or they just don't seem to care about this old blight sitting out here...... Why did you?"

I'll be honest, I stumbled with the answer. I mean, considering that my first reaction was to run away and all..... "You're just a guy who fell on some pretty hard times. Sometimes just one person can make a difference..... I don't think I'm that one, but I sure do wish you all the best and hope we were able to bring you a little comfort.... I wanted to help."

"You also brought me hope young lady..... Well, you generously gave me more than I could have asked for today, but you two also gave me hope too."

I felt bad that I couldn't do more for the guy, but we did have to go back about our business and he had to go back about his, as security would be asking him to leave shortly. I wished him well and shook his hand and we went our separate ways. I haven't seen him since..

There's a life lesson in there somewhere. Hell if I can pinpoint it and put my finger on it.... Maybe it's just that we sometimes have to let down our guards and not judge EVERYONE that we come across. There are times when there are just people who need a friendly smile and a small interaction and some kindness because they haven't gotten any. I am in NO WAY a people person, but I find it very hard to turn my back on someone who obviously needs a little help. This guy was that person on that day. My daughter also witnessed an act of kindness that may stick with her for the rest of her life.

I think that there are those of us who think we have it bad, Sure, we struggle through life and we wish we had a little bit more, but when a different reality gets slammed into your face like that, you can't wonder how bad it really could be for you in that moment, and it really made me think. I need to be a little more grateful for the things that i HAVE been blessed with tin this life. This was probably a reality check that I needed bestowed upon me by some greater power or whatever, that Rick seems to think it's all about. But it happened and I played my part in it. And I walked away feeling okay. Yeah, sure, I'm going to be a little short this month and I may have to push a bill back a little in order to make up for this foray, but it did me good. NOW go ahead and judge me.
 What it boils down to is, as a person, what is it that we are willing to give to those around us? I've done a couple of things that have brought me an "atta girl!" moment from time to time, and I meant them all. I'd like to think this was one of them. I hope guy ate and found a little comfort in knowing that all people aren't assholes. And if this little bit makes me an asshole, well, then. I'm an asshole. It just felt like the right thing to do.
The end.

MoooooooooM! Quit it!

The teen has friends over quite regularly, which is fine. The friends he has are nice enough and are polite, mind their manners and don't destroy the house and run around like hyperactive, rabid, insane giant weasels on crack. It's MINE that sometimes gets a little too big for his britches and I have to pull the step stool out from under him just to put him back in his place. If he wants to throw around attitude, I am going to throw him more embarrassment than he knows what to do with.
The other day, he got all pissy teen on me. Fine. I gave him the warning look and he responded with an eye roll... Fine again.
When he went upstairs to get something, I called up to him, "Hey, did you remember to wipe your butt when you went poopies? The last time, you forgot and you were itchy on your bottom for a week!"
"MOOOOOoooooommmm! QUIT IT!!!!" But the damage was done. The look on his face was priceless. The snickers coming from the kitchen was icing on the cake. Balance was restored. Little by little. I will break this pissy teen broody, whiny baby, sass thing that he has happening...

Raising Mini Me.....

I try hard to be a role model for my daughter in the hopes that she grows up to be like me, save for the bad habits I have and crap like that. I hope she can become a strong, tough, reliable, unique, pioneering, dependable, responsible, independent woman who believes in her dreams and doesn't allow someone to tell her who and what she is. I hope that she doesn't make the same mistakes in life that I did.  I hope she becomes someone who gets shit done well and completely in everything that she has to, wants to, decides to do. I know.... What person doesn't want that for their child. I want that for all my children. (Well, not the "woman" part considering the other three are boys...) I will do my best to curb the crappy behaviors and habits that she picks up that sometimes turn my Mini Doom into a whiny, sissy, pansy baby, spoiled brat and I hope these lessons stick.

It's a real shame when some people say they want for these things for their children, but teach them behaviors that may or may not be a step above sloth, and greed, and malice and selfishness, turning their children into spoiled, fat, lazy, mean, miniature versions of themselves. I volunteer at the school for the boys sometimes and I see it in the other kids and I see it even MORE clearly when their parent is there.

There really is no single IDEAL way to raise children. It's never the same because children are SO different from one another and they don't come with a custom instruction manual. You can't apply what you used on one kid exactly like you did on another. I mean sure, there are things that ARE the same: Consistency, patience, understanding and the willingness to want to RAISE your children. Beyond that?

My little Mini Me, being the youngest of four AND the only girl has and will have many challenges in her life being the sister to three older brothers, but so far, she has risen to the challenge. I want to make sure that I keep encouraging her fearlessness and her spunk and her moxie to jump in with her brothers and do whatever it is they're doing because I think it will benefit her later in life. Going "balls out" and not being afraid to go out and DO. Not getting caught up in the "What if I can't..." or the "I'm scared of trying something new..." Grabbing life by the horns and really paving a solid path forward.

In the meantime, I build the foundations for her so that she will be able to grow and be a solid whoever she wants to be. My little Mini Me. My little Mini Doom.... I can't wait to see how well she's going to do... Well, yeah I can. I'd like to keep her my Mini for a while....

Kids and Playtime.....

I love watching kids play. It seems that their imaginations are boundless and it's rather cool to see them "living out" whatever it is that they're playing. The story lines that they come up with and as they go along, they fill in the plot and flesh things out.... It's really rather amazing.

I try not to make it look like I'm listening in because I think I'd end up making them all paranoid and the creative juices would stop flowing as freely, but I try to listen as much as I can. And I write a lot of it down.... I've been doing it for years. In fact, the books (one published, the other two are currently getting there eventually....) are all stories that I had written down from their many "adventures". Yup.... A little trivia there for you...

Yeah.... There's no limit to the things one can imagine and I think that a hyperactive imagination is such an asset, especially for children. It is an asset that should be nurtured and encouraged. I think that's what the problem with today's youth is. They're usually plugged into some stupid video game or iSomthing or another or watching some fucktarded cartoon or show. They aren't really given or taking the time to use their own imaginations to come up with new things and playing. Their imaginations are just being sucked out of them via electronic gadgets and doodads. And there aren't too many people who are paying attention enough and seeing that. WAKE UP PARENTS!!!!!!!

What we are engineering here, by allowing our kids to plug into their electronics and hindering their imaginations, is the next generation of mindless sheep. Easy to manipulate, easy to control, easy to rule over.... At the rate things are going, as we breed more stupidity and unimaginative non-innovators, we are spiraling downwards and we are going to be looking at some really dark times here. Something as simple as letting the kids PLAY and run around and imagine things and create things and let them be creative can help kids to be more fulfilled people.

It may be surprising to some people, but kids actually DO learn a lot from "free play". They learn about compassion, they learn about themselves, they learn about how to use their surroundings. They learn about how they can get along in life.... Imagine a wild lion cub playing with his father's tail. It may look all cute and stuff as the cub pounces on dad's tail, but the reality is, that cub is learning the basics to becoming what will be his full potential as a hunter and predator. "Pretend play", as it were. It's not too different from what children are doing when they are pretending and imagining and creating and playing. Shaping them to become the full potentials of what they will become.

It's high time we take back our children from the lures of electronic doodads and doo hickies and get them playing for real. Seriously. Their futures depend on it.

Grr......

The conversations sometime start off the same way.
Me: What did you do?
Child: I don't wanna say because you're gonna get mad....
Me: I'm gonna get mad if you DON'T tell me right now...
Child: Promise not to get mad?
Me: .......Maybe......
Child: I accidentally launched three potatoes into the back window of your car.....
Me: WHAT??!??
Child: You said you wouldn't be mad! You LIED!!!
And I become the bad guy..... :sigh:

Toy ads.....

If you've ever watched a small child watching tv when the commercials come on, you will come to notice that EVERYTHING they see is something that they want. During the gift-y holidays and birthdays, trying to sort out the things that they REALLY want and things that they just thought were kinda cool looking and just said they want because that's what kids do is a bit of a chore..... Then you go to the store with the child and they're pointing to all the things that aren't on the list.... :s
Then after much careful consideration, the crap shoot.... And you purchase the most likely things that they are gonna love.... Sometimes it's a hit, other times.... not so much. o_O
Then there are the toys that tout to be the greatest thing since sliced bread. The kids seem excited about it. YOU get excited about it. You order it and pay for it and it comes to the doorstep. Anticipation mounts as you open up the box and tear away all the packaging material. You finally free the toy from all of it's packaging binds and TADA! The kids have scattered and are playing with the box that the thing came in and are amusing the ever loving snot out of themselves by popping the bubble wrap and the air pocket thingies that was used to pack up the toy.... :sigh:
So, you get the children back on task and you do the reveal again. TADA! But the moment is gone and the TADA moment has long since passed and the appeal of the toy has lost its luster..... Oh well..... such is life.

Getting back up....

Children are filled with a certain brand of confidence (or stupidity) when it comes to a lot of things. They don't understand the concept of mortality and serious injury. Eventually, they do fall and sometimes in the process, get hurt. Then they become fearful. It is the job of the parent to make sure that they get back up and try again despite the nail biting anxiety the parents themselves may be experiencing because it'd be a terrible shame to raise a child who was fearful of everything because of the fear of failure or fear of getting hurt. That spirit of getting back up will go with them as they grow, as the newer challenges in life get harder. Going forward and tackling new things or getting back up and trying something again... It is only then that they will realize their own true potentials and become everything that they can be. It's about fully understanding the situation, but going forward and giving it everything you have anyway and finding a way to get it done and succeeding.
My kids may hate me for it now, but I pray that one of these days they'll look back and see that I was only  trying to do right by them. Child rearing certainly does NOT have that "instant gratification" thing that eating bacon has, but damn if it ain't worth every bit of effort you put into it!

Great! What happened??!??

I never know what to expect on some weekends when I wake up to find that the kids had already gotten up at some ridiculously early hour in the morning. It's when they sneak into my room and whisper, "mom.... mo-o-o-o-m...... MOM! ....Are you awake?" and I grumble in response that sounds something like, "whad you hee fo'....me makin sleepies......." They look at each other and then back at me and say, "Well, something spilled downstairs.... A lot of it. It's everywhere... How do we clean it up?" It generally springs me out of bed and I'm thinking about all the different things that could be spilled all over the place. Generally it's a gallon of milk they tried to pour onto cereal or juice they've tried to pour into cups. The attempts are always cute..... They explain how they were trying to make breakfast in bed for me as I spend the next hour and a half cleaning up their mess, but I have to admit, I do it with a smile.
Their hearts were in the right place and they meant well and I just can't bring myself to get mad about something like that. Then I help them out, we get the tray upstairs and I have my breakfast in bed. Soggy toast, soggy cereal and glass of juice with questionable floaty bits in it and a brown squishy banana. It's cute to say the least and I have to tell you, it always tastes pretty awesome because of a little extra ingredient they throw in called "love". By the time I'm done, the incident of how I had to clean up a tidal wave of milk and juice with cereal bits is forgotten and I've eaten my fill and the kids are ever so pleased with themselves. It's a blissful moment.

Mom to the rescue.....

I love how sometimes it just HAS to be me. It just CAN'T be anyone else. Even if it's something as simple as "MOOOOOOOM THERE'S NO TOILET PAPER!!!!!!!!" and I have to pick the lock and toss a roll to the child sitting on the can. My favorites are when they get stuck in a situation that they can't get out of. Head in the banister type stuck. Always entertaining. I can fix stuff, cook stuff, mend stuff, make stuff, sew stuff, knit stuff, create stuff, imagine stuff, help out with stuff, lift stuff, and do all sorts of other stuff that even the kids will admit is kind of handy and sort of cool. At least I get a little bit of the "coolness factor" in their eyes and I don't have to be the uber dork all the time! :)

My kids and their woobies.....

Each of my kids have a woobie. My eldest son has a bunny (actually, there's 12 of them.... The one he has and all the "replacement ones" accumulated over the years) named Bumbah, my second son has a bear rug looking thing (the only one as I wasn't able to replace it without him noticing something was "different") named Bear, my third has a teddy bear (only when he sleeps) named Corillia (I have no idea. He came up with the name all by himself...) and my daughter has her floppy teddy that she made at Build a Bear (actually she has four and she determines when she needs a "clean one", which is about once a week or so) named Goggy. Now, obviously, one never knows what ends up becoming a child's woobie. They just happen to form attachments to a certain thing for whatever reason and that's it. And it becomes VERY apparent that it is the woobie the first time the things needs "a bath". The tears and screaming as you coax the child into letting go of the woobie so that you can throw it into the washing machine..... The bribes and deals you make... Good times. It is usually then that you realize there is a need for replacements so that the woobie "never needs a bath again". Well, at least for my eldest (now teen... Who STILL has his Bumbah in his bed....)
There is a kind of insecurity that the kids experienced the first time they had to let go of the woobies for washing and I felt awful about it. The three younger ones weren't as fussed about the process whereas my eldest sat by the washing machine until it was done. That first time was always the roughest though. The two middle boys don't have replacements for their woobies which was fine and my daughter may have experienced a slight anxiety for about ten minutes.
The whole point to this post is that I know my children will grow up and will leave their woobies behind.  They have been told time and time again that the woobies will always have a home with me and the kids are NEVER to throw away the woobie, (Not that I think they would). These cherished pieces of fluff and fur, loved to the point of being held together with nothing but spit, tears and good intentions have shown unerring loyalty and comfort to my children through their most formidable  years up until that point. I already have a place where they will have an honored place in my home... But only until they have children of their own and have a child or children who have woobies of their own. Then they will re-learn to appreciate their own woobies and I may return them to the kids... Maybe....

Mini-Doom.....

My six year old daughter brings me much amusement. Being the youngest of four and having three older brothers, I worried about the kind of girl she might turn out to be. When I found out that I was having a girl, I went into denial because I didn't think I knew what to do with a daughter.....
It turns out I never really had to worry about her at all. Honestly, I think I worry more about my boys and what she'll do to them when they piss her off.
She has her moments that make me grit my teeth and raises the hairs on the back of my neck. The high pitched screaming and the whining and the sissy baby pansy type behavior that makes me cringe. I don't like it and I am doing everything I can to  curb it. She has gotten much better about it though.... Then there are times when she comes forth with the courage, strength and rage of a warrior that would make Chuck Norris (of Chuck Norris Quotes fame, ba ha ha!) flinch. She is becoming a mini little me.
Doom comes in a "Fun Size" now! WOOT! She does her mama proud. :)

"Smartness".....

Adversity breeds creativity. Want and desire breeds ABSOLUTE GENIUS. Just watch children when they hatch a devious plan of some sort. I mean, don't get me wrong, their plans are always very transparent and predictable, but watching the wheels turn as they concoct a scheme and see their ideas coming to fruition (kinda) is rather and quite amusing.... I'm gonna need to keep my eyes open and stay on alert a little bit more. I have a feeling they might become challenging a few years from now as they perfect their methods.....