Olive's Christmas Poem to Her Mother

Trump is a grump, a big rump.
He lives in the city dump.
He has to triple jump to get over a sugar lump.
I think he needs a stomach pump.
He is as slump as a tree stump.

So go to your house,
Be as quiet as a mouse,
Until someone kicks him out,
Then shout: "Never again will I pout!"

The End!

She's One of Us Now

Us to the baby in normal every day conversation: "You have a spoon..."
Baby: "UH!"

Violet on How to Sleep Like a Baby

There were also two adults in this bed. Ow.

Calls from the Office, Part 1

Call #1, November 2nd: Biting a friend, no skin broken.

Call #2, December 2nd: Indecent exposure. Mariah was on a "rampage" ripping up everyone's art and Callum decided he'd like some of that attention. "In an effort to steal her thunder, he shouted'Hey turn off the lights for a show!'" and whipped out his penis. Later, in tears, when I asked why, "I wanted everyone to laugh at me."

Call #3, December 7th: Boys on boys under the bathroom stall door peeping. The after school lady is explaining in great detail that there was a gaggle of kinder boys and a ringleader and she won't stop nervously talking in circles. "So, what you're trying to tell me is that my kid was the ringleader?" "NO! HE'S A VICTIM!!!" and "But these kind of things happen all the time!" (And please don't try to get me fired or call my boss or threaten to sue or freak out.) "OH! Don't worry, we're cool. He exposed himself to his entire kindergarten class last week so this is nothing! I am so relieved!" After school program lady did not seem to share my great sense of relief. Oops.

It feels safe to assume there will be a part 2.

I can narrow it down to two possible suspects

"OH! MY! GOD! SOMEONE UNROLLED THE TOILET PAPER, USED IT, AND ROLLED IT BACK UP!" --G

Callum and the School Library

Five months into kindergarten and Callum still only checks out books we already own.

It's hilarious, or so I'm told, when surrounded by friends.

Weirder, we go to the city libraries more than Target and he's never once tried to do it there.

We have an entertainer on our hands.

All the Foods

Callum's favorite Thanksgiving food is "pesto," but then he drew pizza, and we actually had ham. Screw turducken and piecaken, welcome pestoizzaham.



Also:



"This bat is I eating hot dogs."

Olive Writes

Waiting for her conference to begin, Jason and I are simultaneously reading a story she's written on display in the hall, and it's gore-free normal little girl stuff. Strange.

Jason: "Oh! There she is!"
Me: "Ah, yes."

Something about stapling herself to a wall, and then it went downhill from there.

Heidi on Don't Do That

She already had the leverage bounce down, but the pictures stop because she finally found her foothold.

2016 Holiday Card Reject

Behold the face of an 8 year Medusa about to go trick or treating with her lame-ass family. Oh, Olive, my love.

(Jason is Nacho Libre, which, not sexy.)

Callum Presents

For Halloween the kindergarteners had to get up in front of the class to present their costumes. I could not get a sitter to go, so sadly I missed it. But every parent that did go has made it a point to tell me how totally awesome my kid is.

While the other kindergarteners were some combination shy/scared/mumbling at their feet/hiding behind the teacher/deer in the headlights, Callum "exploded" on to the stage, faced the audience, and in a loud, clear voice loudly declared "I'm Batman! I'm a sluper-he-o!" He went on to explain and flex his fantastic giant (fake) muscles, strike many poses, and talk about his awesome strength. He kept it lively until they eventually dragged him off the stage.

Proud Momma.

My Girl

Bursting loudly into the room as I am filling out her gifted paperwork:
"OH MY GOD, MOM! I HAVE SAND IN MY BUTT CRACK! AND MY BUTT HOLE! HAHAHA IN MY HOLE!!!"

Callum on Hobbies

"Art, and feeding myself food. Yeah."

Callum on Mexican Food and Aging

(In the men's restroom, as told to me by Jason.)

Callum was in the single stall, taking his sweet time pooping, and loudly signing, mariachi-style, "Delici-o-so! Delici-o-so!"

Then turning strangers into friends at the sink:
"Are you an old man?"
"Yes I am."
"I am not. I am five. First I was three, second I was four, and third I am five!"

Teenager

Early morning call from 8th grade:

"Mom, you need to come get me. I have an ear infection. I need medicine."
This is unexpected news since we were actually at the doctor's office last night at 5:30 pm for a physical, and knowing he'd had a little hint of a cold (which hit me and the baby hard, listen to me croak) the doc had made a big ordeal out of telling me his ears and lungs were a-okay.
"What are you feeling?" (And what drugs do you think I have to give, son?)
"Oh, you know, it's an ear infection, and it's in that ear where I ALWAYS have ear infections."
(No, I don't know that ear. You had one ear infection in the 13.5 years I have been your mother, which was back in kindergarten, so...) "I need you to describe it to me. What exactly does it feel like?" (Not gonna say pain, or pressure. You gotta come up with those on your own, kid.)
"Oh. it's definitely an ear infection. That's what it feels like."
"Did the nurse look in your ears?"
"No, but she did take my temperature and I don't have a fever. Weird, right?"
(NO. What class are you missing?)

Nurse gets on phone:

"He does not have a fever, but he tells me he is wearing glasses from third grade and I think that might be the problem. With your permission I'm going to send him back to class."
"Yes, please."

He did get glasses until 4th grade, but you know, whatever.

Also, dad found your glasses in less than 60 seconds, in the exact place I told you they'd be. You know, where you looked for 55 minutes before giving up.

Violet Lost, And Found

Shopping in the pantry with her cart and baby.

Violet on Taking Care of Momma

Dear Babes,*

Thank you so much for taking half-chewed food out of your mouth and shoving into mine, over and over again, with the happiest of smiles. It actually brings tears to my eyes, because you are so big and omg I love you to the moon and back, too. You and I are going to have so much fun together.

Love,
Momma

*Callum's name for Violet

Things I've Literally Said at Target

"I am only buying you Bandaids if you promise not to use them all on your nipples again."

#nopasties

On Venting About Teen Behavior

Lesson learned: Do not vent about typical teenage behavior to parents of younger children. The time spent trying to explain that your kid is not crazy or have emotional problems, just a whole different beast of a brain, is nearly as frustrating as the teenage behavior itself. You'll explain there are some awesome articles out there that explain it all, like Scientific American's The Amazing Teen Brain, but instead they'll just continue to judge.

Sigh.

Violet on Black Lights

I didn't think anything of it until I felt pain inflicted by tiny finger nails from the rider on my hip as she drew blood from my arm fat. She was just starting to relax again when she realized her romper was glowing and I almost didn't catch her she attempted to jump out of it. But as in every That's So Violet episode, she never once made a peep or shed a tear.

And five minutes later black lights were super funny.

Violet's First Sing Along

Mom: She blinded me with science! Do! Do!
Violet: Do! Do!

Callum on Donald Trump

With all-knowing confidence, "Donald Trump...is a duck!"

Callum on the Phone

Growing up in the era of Skype:

Giggling, "I can hear you, but I can't see you!"

Callum Schools Olive

Callum: (I don't remember.)
Snarky Olive: Yeah, and monkeys fly...
Callum: No, they swing!

Callum on Video Games

No video games? Pbft! Callum zooms around Google Earth race car-style the one and only time I let him loose on the internet.

(Me, smacking forehead.)

The Lashes Are Real

Someone once asked us if we'd used Latisse on infant Olive. No.

They all have them, but Olive and Violet's are the darkest.

New Mexican(s) in a Strange Land, Part 2

Once upon a 2013 in California the Cracker renamed Santa Cruz "Santa Cruces" after our very own Las Cruces.

Once upon a 2016 in California Callum renamed San Diego "Sandia Egg-o" after our very own Sandia Mountains. He knows nothing the waffles.

Olive on Ice Cream

Once a year during our California trip we overindulge at Fenton's, ordering a giant mountain of ice cream. (Honestly because 4-5 scoops on a single plate is like $10 vs. $4/each separately, and this Momma is cheap.) Everyone who is old enough to express an opinion picks one scoop if they'd like, this year bringing us to 4 scoops because Jason and I share.

More years than not the whole experience has sent Olive over the edge because her ice cream touches some one else's ice cream, or the Cracker looks at her funny, or whatever. Sorry, kid, but if you can look past that there's ice cream to be had.

Older and wiser, 2016 was going well, until she ate too much. The scoops are HUGE. After two hours of crying she barfed in a parking lot an hour before dinner.

We were not close to base, and already had reservations to sit in a trolley at an Old Spaghetti Factory that Callum was really excited about. And really, she was 100% fine now. We went.

Olive was so fine, it turns out, that she ate the ice cream that comes at the end of a Spaghetti Factory meal. Me = Traumatized. Her = What? Why?

Lesson not learned. I love it when other parents talk about how well consequences work as a one-size fits all parenting strategy. Yup, now meet Olive.

New nightmare: Olive and alcohol.

So Cal Roadtripping Restroom Adventures

We are stuck in nasty LA traffic, and somekid needs to go potty.

Waiting in line for the women's restroom at Jack in the Box, a 50-something African-American lady in head-to-toe red, white, blue, and Trump starts talking to me:
"I pay my taxes, so I told them to go clean those nasty bathrooms! I am a taxpayer, dammit! I pay my taxes and I want my clean bathroom! I can't believe they think they can get away with that! Can you believe it? You look like a taxpayer! Is a dirty bathroom acceptable to you! No, ma'am! That's our hard-earned money! We're taxpayers! You feel me, right? We're taxpayers!"

I can't even.

Nice Trump shirt, hat, and button, ma'am.

Not.

Callum Sings London Bridges

"All-of-the-bridges are falling down!"

Callum on Boobs

Wtf is he singing?

"Some are big, all are boobs.
They are circles, watch them move!
See them all!"

(Blame goes to Graeme on this one. No more Weird Al for you people!)

Eating Out With Super Hero Callum

All the hostesses: "So you need 3 adult menus and 3 kid's menus?"
Callum: "Um, no. We need 3 adult menus, 2 kid's menus, and one sluper he-o menu."

Callum on Our Super Hero Family

He is Fast Man!
Graeme is Slow Man!
Mommy is Woman Man! (Um, remember Wonder Woman? You do! But this is totally different? Okaaaay...)

G the God

From the third row, headphones in, listening to his mp3 player...

G: If I was a God I would be the God of Books, or Aimesh people.
H: Amish?
G: Yeah.
H: Why's that?
G: Our family's total and utter lack of technology.

It must be Rumspringa.

(We love it when he mispronounces things he's learned from books. Yesterday it was Baja California.)

Why He Loves Me

Heidi: "Wait, this intro is too long. Is this 'Adagio for Strings' Adagio for Strings? Because I was hoping for Puff Daddy and the Family."

(Yes, I have both on the same Spotify playlist.)



AfS is also something Jason plays on the piano often. I think from now on I will insist he add the P. Diddy parts.

Callum and the Potty

Whenever the opportunity arises, like any time he is changing, Callum feels the need to stick his penis out the top of his underwear and/or pants/pajama bottoms/swim trunks and then draw attention to it. Even though the rest of us are totally desensitized to this particular brand of humor, Callum cannot be convinced it is anything less than pure comedic gold that bears repeating no less than twice daily.

You would think a kid like that would pee on a damn tree.

At the park:
C: "I have to pee!"
Mom: "Okay, let's go water that tree way over there."
C: "No, I need a potty."
Mom: "But you can pee on a tree just like a bear!"
C, with total utter confusion and sadness: "But Mom, I am not a bear. I am a human."
C, as we hike to the car, and I'm racking my brain for the nearest restroom while loading four children and all their crap: "Hurry, please."

He cannot be convinced. I have tried, and tried. And tried.

Yay for teenagers who can escort their younger siblings in while you park the car. Fifteen minutes later I am approaching the nearest grocery store bathroom, located at the far end of produce, just past the double doors leading to the stockroom. Halfway through the store I can see that not only are the stockroom doors open, so is the bathroom door, with a perfectly framed side view of Callum: pants on the floor, hands on hips supporting his back, pelvis thrust forward, streaming arch of pee.

Right as I was face-palming my damn self a male employee walking by chuckled and tapped the door shut.

No, you're totally right Callum, peeing on a tree on the far end of the park where no one can see would be madness.

Literally Olive

Me: It's going to be a long summer for both of us if you continue to treat Callum like that.
Her: The length of summer isn't going to change because of what I do or don't do.

Callum's Out for the Summer

Callum's teacher sent home a big package of gum in their end of the year buckets. Callum ate (swallowed) the entire package (minus 3 pieces Olive talked him out of) in two minutes flat.

Welcome to summer vacay, bitches!

Three Amigos

Last summer Callum's girlfriend (cutie in the necklace) moved into our neighborhood. Yay! Now their partner is crime's family is attempting to do the same. If these three all end of at the same school next year for kinder...WATCH OUT.

Olive on Brothers

Driving their remote controlled cars through your hair when you're reading on the floor.

Oh dear, clueless Callum.

Violet on Shoes

(Jason on Violet on shoes: "She's Charo.")

Callum is Almost Five

Good things (eventually) come to those who (are forced to) wait.

Callum on Passing Gas, and Blame

"Be 'scuse me! Who was that?"

Callum the Artist

At Callum's parent teacher conference a few months ago we heard, again, how his flair for the fancy keeps him from completing projects in the time allotted.

Example: A simple, stay in the lines coloring page. Use a color or two to complete the picture. You've got 5 minutes.

Callum: Use all the colors available. Make meticulous alternating patterns of zig zags, stripes, polka dots, and unique intricacies. Are there letters or numbers involved? Bubble that shit.

Jason and I are like...uh...yeah...he kinda gets that from us, BOTH of us. So does at least one other kid. Then there's another other kid who, like, couldn't be any farther from this problem. Who knows about the fourth.

So we are supposed to be working on rushing, which, eye roll, preschool. Yes, we get it, or maybe we don't, because if the 4 year old wants to go above and beyond and is willing to finish it at home, well kinda seems like a #Problemnotproblem.

So, voilà, Callum's (sloppy) rush job, limit two colors. (Because nobody tells baby he can't make bubble letters at home.)



(Also, please note teacher's fancy letters top left.)

Whatcha reading, G?

Math teacher: "The first three books I took away from him today were, you know, regular G books. (Snort-laughing) The fourth though..."

G laughed. I laughed. School counselor laughed. Jason did not.

(It's okay, Jason, I think you had to be there.)

Dads on Grade Level

Today, sitting at middle school reception. A random dad walks in.

"Hi! I need to drop these shoes off for my daughter."
"Sure! What grade is she in?"
"Uhhh...I don't know. Seventh?"
"Seventh grade is at lunch right now, but we can get them to her after. Her name, sir?"
(Name.)
(Computer check.)
"So she's at lunch now, but she'll get them after?"
"Actually, sir, your daughter is in 8th grade, so I'll have someone take them to her now."

My kid's Dad last fall at elementary school pick-up:

"Hi, I can't find my daughter."
"What grade is she in?"
"Uhh...first? Second? Not Kindergarten."
"Do you know who her teacher is?"
"Uhh...no..."
"Do you know where she usually gets picked up?"
"In the pick-up line."
"We have two pick-up lines."
?!
"What's your daughter's name?"
"Olive."
"Oh, Olive! She's in my class! Hi, I'm Mrs. (Your Kid's Second Grade Teacher)!"
Mortified.
"Oh, don't feel bad! My husband wouldn't have known either! He's an engineer."
"I'm an engineer! I'm an engineer!"

Not Happy

On Sunday I caught one of the kids with a Sharpie drawing happy faces on his siblings. I was all Wft? Gimme the goddamn pen right now! and he was all I am so clever and uproariously funny! It wasn't until later that we realized he had first gone around the house and drawn nickel and dime sized happy faces ALL OVER EVERYTHING. IN SHARPIE.

Kitchen counters, kitchen cabinets, kitchen faucet, stainless steel appliances, white appliances, kitchen floor, his wooden furniture, our wooden furniture, plantation shutters, windows, picture frames, door frames, painted walls, mirrors, bathroom counters, bathroom sinks, bathroom floors, tub, toilet, his brothers beloved stuffed animal's face, his brother's favorite toys, his brother's favorite possessions, I am going to stop now because like HUNDREDS OF THINGS and I think you get the point.

Also, it was not the four year old.

Jason and my dad were more resigned and less suprised than I was. The culprit was like Why aren't you laughing...wait...oh shit.

Oh shit is right.

Later that night an email came through from neighborhood security about suspected 8th and 9th grade boys caught on camera and in the process of being identified for "Petty vandalism" with the explanation that affected homeowners know boys that age are stupid and have no intention of pressing charges, but also need to make sure things don't escalate.

Not my kid, but a good you're not alone reminder that good boys this age are so damn...not using their brains much. This is how penises, butts, and boobies get drawn on other people's property. So as pissed as I am, it could have been much worse. Lesson, please sweet baby Jesus, learned.

Then this was in my Facebook feed Monday. Thank you for that.

I assume we will continue to accidently stumble upon them for some time to come. Today's find:

Callum on Underwear

Our dearest Callum is sensory seeking due to low registration. While he absolutely feels things, it's often dulled, muted, not punchy enough.

To say that potty training didn't go well the first, second, third, or subsequent tries is a huge understatement. Then suddenly he was three and a half, and it got to the point that we really didn't know if he was truly that clueless or fucking with us. Multiple times he literally stood there peeing on himself all like, "What? I don't know what you're talking about" as pee streamed down his leg, forming a puddle at his feet right after getting up from the potty because he didn't have to pee.

Literally. And so many times.

Then not too long after his fourth birthday he began to feel the Bern pee. Usually we'd be standing in line at the grocery store or Target when he began to guffaw and declare for all to hear, "MOM! I AM PEEING! RIGHT NOW! I AM PEEING!"

Chistoso as it was, people don't assume your 4 year old is wearing a Pull Up, so...awkward.

Soon after things looked good and we were finally on our way!

Then this happened. Three steps forward, a bazillion back. You cannot use the potty in a spica cast when your mom is literally 9 months pregnant.

Cast came off, baby sister took his baby spot in the family, and we waited for him to resume wanting to wear awesome underpants.

HahahahahaNO.

At four and more than a half we started all over because holy shit kindergarten is coming. And it was instant success!

Except now, even months later, I am left trying to convince an almost five year old (and not a two or three year old) every damn day that you have to change your underpants even if! you think they are not dirty. We've all made a big deal of our underpants changes. We try to reason, why have so many pairs if you really only need one or two?

(And unfortunately we can't bathe him every day and do it then because his eczema will raaaaaaaage.)

Callum ain't buying, and since it's usually me making the argument as we get dressed for the day he's decided changing clean yet day old underpants is some Mars vs. Venus bullshit invented by his bat shit crazy woman-mother.

But there will be no literal shit in his underpants come August. So, you win some, you lose some.

Callum on What to Wear

Callum sifting through his t-shirts this morning, "I...need...umm...a cape shirt. Oh! Here is one!"

It's a giant pet peeve of mine to hear that boys aren't as fun to dress as girls. Because BULLSHIT.

Super hero capes! Halloween costumes with fake muscles! (And I had more when I wrote this in my head but 4 hours of interrupted sleep last night!)

Olive the Prepper

I opened, to a random page, the book my delicate 7 year old flower picked out at the school book fair, limit $10.

On Moms

G, telling us about his day...

"So I said, 'Whatcha doing?' and he said, 'Your mom!'"
Hysterical, pee-in-your-pants laughter from my husband and teenage son.
Me, The Mom: "But is it really funny when it's your mom?"
Jason: "Yes it is!"

Remembering Nana

When my Dad first got a digital camera he had this totally annoying habit of pointing it at people and just letting it run, something you definitely can't appreciate in the moment, and cherish once it's too late.

Today my mom is six years gone.

Video from Olive's birth, April 16, 2008. Going to Baby Gap? So very my mom, exactly the way I love to remember her.

Stop "fixing" the Rubik's Cube

Callum's just the narc, Cracker is the fixer.

Baby Grand

Holy crap, we did it. We bought a piano!

The Culinary Preferences of Sir Mister Wuffles

Mr. Wuffles has no interest in meat, but always be up in my bran muffins, except that time we ran out of cat food so I gave him a muffin.

Legal bran muffin? Eff that.

Violet's Date Night

Dinner for the parents at our favorite little neighborhood Italian bistro, followed by a spin through Bed, Bath & Beyond to feel all the bath mats and towels. Sensorylicious!

Callum on Coffee

My first born won't drink anything but water, fat free cow's milk, Gatorade, and hot chocolate. No carbonation, no tea or coffee, never ever. Not even Yoda Soda.

My second born isn't a fan of carbonation either, but digs herbal tea.

My third born begs, "But I love the coffee black!" because his stupid mother once let him try a sample, straight black, at Trader Joe's thinking he'd hate it like the children before him did.

Fail. And no more coffee for you.

RIP Flower the Hamster

Week One:
Heidi grabs a tissue from a box on Jason's desk.
"NOOOO!"
"What?"
"That's the box with the dead hamster."
Silence.
"Those tissues are covering the dead hamster."
That is not the first time Heidi had used one of those tissues.

Week Two, All the Days:
What is that rotting smell?

Week Three:
Omg, he still hasn't buried the freaking hamster.

Gimme All Your Huevos

Rancheros

Callum Sings

Clearing his brunch dishes:
At the top of his lungs, "Ice ice baby!"
Changing to a whisper, "Too cold! Too cold!"

Wuffles the Great

We weren't sure we'd ever get another cat. It took 7 months to find the right one. And while he/she drives me crazy on a daily basis, this is how Callum plays him/her on a daily basis. Callum is singing "Rock a Bye Baby" while violently rolling him/her back and forth, and he/she does not give any fucks.

It's been 13 straight months of love, so yeah, he/she's a keeper.

(Confused about Mr. Wuffle's gender? So are we. That story another day.)

Olive and the Appliance

Meet Olive.
Olive sucks her thumb.
Olive's dentist has an appliance for that.
It costs $800 and works in 30 days!
Olive's mother was dubious, at best, but insurance would pay half.
Olive's mother said, "But we leave it on longer."
Because Olive has superpowers.
Olive's dentist assured Olive's mother that 30 days is almost always enough time.
Olive and her entourage drove to the very far away dentist many, many times for fittings, second fittings, spacers, more spacers, impressions, installation, and adjustments.
Olive defeated the appliance within 24 hours. Twice.
Olive's dentist is embarrassed. He's done over a thousand of these and she is only the third to find a workaround.
Olive's mother is not surprised.
After more fittings and spacers and impressions Olive's third appliance did not fit because she grew a molar.
New impressions, fourth appliance to be made and overnighted at dentist's insistence before her superpowers do their super thing.
Olive's mother is embarrassed, but grateful for guarantees.

Month: Five. Visits: 8 or 9? Adults:0, Olive: All the points.

Callum in Beauty Face

Oh my Callum, what beautiful alabaster skin you have! It's like you got a hold of my phone and found some bullshit airbrushing feature.