Tuesday, May 22, 2012

The One Where We Dance Like Morons

JakeRyan and I were in Philadelphia for my cousin's wedding this weekend. I left the battery for my fancy camera home in the charger so I didn't get any good photos of my own. Therefore we'll have to settle for photo booth shots from the big night. Making their blog debuts are: my sister Melissa, sister-in-law Jessica, brother-in-law John, brother Jeff, Uncle Gary and cousin Sarah.


As you can see, the boys were not thrilled with being told by their wives to get in the photo booth. We pulled them away from their 9th trip to the bar to do it and then put the kibosh on my husband mooning the camera. And evidently when your wife won't let you show your ass, you need to behave like one.

So we took a terrible iPhone photo.



And while we were at the wedding proving that we don't get out much:



The Suitcase Kids were home with Uncle Adam and Aunt Tanya doing this:





This will probably be the last time they'll watch them. Once is enough for anyone.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

WTF Wednesday - The "Poor People's Salon" Edition

Just when I thought I wouldn't have any material for a WTF Wednesday post, Natalie came through for me with her own unique ingenuity and whack-a-doodle personality.

Why yes, that IS my child using the dog's filthy water bowl as a foot spa while lounging on the couch watching Letter Factory. Why do you ask? This doesn't happen in your house?



I'm always amazed at how she senses that I'm in a state of weakness and she seamlessly pulls off these shenanigans right under my nose. Tonight I was helping Ryan write the world's worst essay on a family reunion.

Luckily she had the good sense to push the coffee table all the way back to the couch and grab a few cloth napkins to clean up the spills.

WTF?!?!?

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Reopening Old Wounds 19 Years & a BBQ Dinner Later

True Story: Last night, yes LAST NIGHT, in 2012 after eating BBQ for dinner, I had a dream that I had a second shot at being Prom Queen. This is quite a departure from the recurring dream I used to have where I had to go back to high school for some unknown reason because there had been a mistake and I didn't really graduate.

Last night I found myself in a kindergarten classroom with Natalie who wasn't actually my daughter, but my much-younger and prettier sister. Ryan was over in his classroom and he was my brother. There was some kind of mix-up (much like my recurring dream) and although I was new to the class and having a Billy Madison moment I was surprised to learn that I was eligible to be Prom Queen right as the kids were voting. Yes, kindergartners were voting for Prom Queen. This is my dream and I make the rules. 

I explained to Natalie how I had been in the running last year (evidently this was now 1994) and one of my best friends won instead, so it was really, REALLY OK and I was so happy for her. I was just honored to be considered again now. This was my chance! Full Disclosure: I was also not the winner of Homecoming Queen...I was really, REALLY NOT so keen on who won that one at all. 

As they counted the votes, (yes, impromptu counting right there in the classroom) I realized that I was losing again. The current leader for Prom Queen was Bruce Jenner as a write-in vote thanks to one big Jenner fan in her class who convinced the rest of the kids to follow suit, including Natalie. In this dream old people and men can be Prom Queen. I wonder if the Jenner involvement comes from my deep-rooted disdain for all things Kardashian. 

Natalie voted for Bruce Jenner instead of her own "sister." I knew that my only hope was if my good sibling Ryan was rallying his class for me. Then I woke up. Thank God because it would have been mortifying to lose to Bruce.

Here's a picture of my husband JakeRyan and me from one of our Junior Proms (we went to different schools).

We didn't go to our Senior Proms together, so he wasn't my date when I was a Prom Queen loser. He had dumped me a few months before prom and despite my stalking, psycho drive-bys and 15 phone calls a night, he didn't want to get back together. Shocking. 

I did have a date to prom. A very, VERY sweet guy who I ditched early in the evening so I could spend the night in the ladies room in a purple off-the-shoulder mermaid dress crying my eyes out because my true love JakeRyan was at his own prom across town with some trollop. And I stand by my "trollop" assessment of this girl nearly 20 years later. Me no likey.


I did emerge from the bathroom at the coaxing of my friends because they were announcing the Prom Court. For the walk out on the dance floor, I was paired with the kid who sat in front of me in Marine Biology class that repeatedly stuck his bare butt through the triangle in the back of the school chair just to bother me and my friend, our future Prom Queen. Visualize this. I'm sure he's a nice person now. He's got 4 kids.

To this day, one of the biggest regrets of my life was the way I treated my poor prom date. I think about it all the time and I'm disgusted by my behavior. I'm glad as I got older I developed better coping skills.

JakeRyan was Prom King at his prom. Salt in the wound. 


Linking up with Liz for I Was A Senior Hottie (or in my case, a Nottie).



Wednesday, May 9, 2012

WTF Wednesday - The "She Could Have Just Said Toothpaste" Edition

It's dinnertime at the Suitcase House. I was in the kitchen and the kids are sitting at the table eating a nutritious meal of spaghetti and no vegetables when I heard the following coming from my angelic 5-year-old daugter:

"Wake up in the morning feeling like P Diddy..."

I look up from whatever I was doing with an expression of utter horror on my face. WTF?Please Lord tell me I'm having an aneurysm. 




"Got my glasses...out the door...hit this city."

This cannot be happening. Not in my house. We don't listen to that shit. It it possible that she's been brainwashed by some unruly little classmate who has replaced the "S" in her name with a dollar sign and whose mother has atrocious taste in music? I have a few ideas of which kid it could be. Holy crap. 


"...brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack..."

I couldn't take it any more. I had to jump in and put a stop to this madness. Before I go on, let me just say that I'm a huge slacker when it comes to policing what my children listen to (and even watch). I err on the side of "don't let your children come to my house."

We went a few weeks where our nightly ritual was YouTubing the I'm Sexy and I Know It video just to laugh hysterically and often at the undulating. Natalie's favorite video is Fun's We are Young which features a bar fight and a stuffed horse being ripped to pieces - if anyone can explain the symbolism with the horse, I'd love to hear your theory. WTF?

But listening to drivel like Ke$ha or as Principal Figgens calls her "K-E -dollar sign - ha" is where I draw the line. Simply because she's annoying and ridiculous. Her music sucks and her outfits are moronic. She's self-absorbed and talentless. And annoying. Yes, fully aware I said annoying twice. 

Me: "Natalie. Don't sing that. You don't even know what it means."

Nat: "Yes I do."

Me: "Oh yeah? What's a 'bottle of Jack?'"

Nat: "It's not Jack. It's jacks. Like the game."

Ryan: "No it's not. You can't put jacks in a bottle and how would you even brush your teeth with them?"

Oh great. Now the kid who wasn't involved had to jump in to point out the unlikelihood of putting metal toys in a bottle. I knew I should have never sent him to school to learn stuff.


Me: "It's not jacks."

Ryan: "Then what IS a bottle of Jack?"

Me: "Never you mind."

Ryan: "It's alcohol isn't it?"

Now here's where I make the parenting decision of whether to just answer straight out (which wouldn't be so bad) or ignore it... Let's see how I handled this craptastic situation.

Me: "Why would you say that?"

And here's where my son uses logic to corner me into discussing something that I'd rather not. It's a classic. 

Ryan: "Well...wine goes with cheese...wine is an alcohol... Monterrey JACK is a type of cheese...so I think a bottle of JACK is alcohol."

I was too confused to argue. I told him the truth: A bottle of Jack IS alcohol. And then much to my astonishment Natalie, who I thought had tuned out around the time she was "gonna hit this city" chimed in.

Nat: "Oh my GOSH! What is Kayla singing about? That's weird."

Precisely. I blame it on the fact that both Kayla and Ke$ha both start with a K and end in A. I think this is no coincidence.






Thursday, May 3, 2012

It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Sticks Their Butt in Your Face

"Do you want to DO something?" my husband JakeRyan called up to me. And since it was 8:00, all the kids were awake and it wasn't his birthday, I know that "do something" is not the same as "do it."

I actually was already doing something, watching the previous night's Glee on DVR (not the best ever I might add). Not to mention that I'd already fed the kids, they'd gone swimming and they were bathed and ready for bed. I think that would qualify as "doing" something. 

I halfheartedly agreed to "do" something else and by the time I walked downstairs when my show was over I saw the boys playing Twister. 

Here's where I'd like to point out that we didn't, until last night, OWN Twister. In the time that I was watching my show JakeRyan had gone to Target and purchased it. Yes, he got in the car just to buy it. This was weird. 


And here's how it went:

  • There was crying - Natalie was mad I made her turn off Halloweentown for the 92nd time to spend quality time with her family.
  • There was inappropriateness- I challenged JakeRyan to a game and he insisted on using the colors right by mine. This was merely annoying until he deliberately stuck his ass in my face.
  • There was praying - This was me while his ass was in my face. Danger! 
  • There was laughing - This was me again when I remembered that my husband thinks underwear is optional at home. 
  • There was dog hair everywhere - There's nothing like a good game of Twister, requiring your face to be several inches from the tile to get a good understanding of how critical this problem is. 
  • There was more crying - Justin wanted to be the spinner, but doesn't know his right from left...and can't read. I took it from him (to spare the players any more physical agony) and he freaked out. 
  • There was screaming - "Hurry up! My left hand is already on blue. This HURTS!"
  • And today, there is soreness and no photographic evidence that I was even involved in this.