Tuesday, 4 February 2014

The Games We Play (aka Pranks from the Kidlets)

No Pictures this time, ran out of inking pens and have to get more :(- OneAwesomeMom

As a mother of three young boys, I put up with a LOT of disgusting crud on a daily. Some things are way more gag-inducing than others, but the absolute worst of the worst includes farting loudly... in public... then shrieking that the fart stinks so bad that someone will surely die... they're probably not wrong.

They also love to hand me bugs, slime, and random crap that creep the hell out of me. Seriously! The more legs, slime, hair, and creepier the better. My reactions are supposedly priceless.

Another thing they love to do is play this game where they eat the most random stuff: dipping apples in ketchup, drinking a concoction of soggy crackers, orange juice, and soup... licking random crud after smelling it... its completely on purpose and the goal is to see if Mom will gag (or better yet, puke. Bonus points if I dont make it to the toilet or outside in time).

My kids can be mean little creeps sometimes, but most of the time, I can handle it without so much as thinly pressing together my lips and/or turning green. I can usually smile and say "that's so gross guys!". 

For first-time mothers of boys, RUN AWAY and DO NOT make the mistake of labelling stuff as "gross" or "disgusting"!! They will run off with a look of absolute glee on their faces. As though their Birthday has come early and they've just gotten EVERY SINGLE THING THEY'VE EVER WANTED and like a Gazillion dollars with the loudest most annoying toy ever!!! I wish I was joking. They'll run off, huddle together, whisper at each other, and then pretend that they've forgotten it all. 


Please note, I have recently discovered that my threshold for disgusting stuff is lumpy/sour milk... they've also discovered this, and the look of pure serenity has washed over all three of their faces... I think I'm in trouble

Monday, 20 January 2014

Waging War on the Small Ones

As you may have noticed, my DS2 has gotten a haircut since the last time I posted (re, Bathtime Blues). This has ended the “Oh your daughter is so cute!” stuff we used to have to put up with when we’d go out into public. Trust me, it was no easy task to chop off his beautiful locks. Being half Native, I like my boys to grow out their hair. However as they are also half Caucasian, I refuse to force either set of beliefs on them and would rather give them the choice between the two cultures. That being said, DS2 did not want his long pretty hair cut at all... 

However one day, I noticed that he was scratching a lot, and investigated why.

Aw crap... I tried for hours and hours on end, which eventually sprawled into days of sitting there meticulously picking out the small “friends” that DS2 had picked up. Thankfully, nobody else seemed to have gotten it, and DS2 put up with it for the most part. Three days later though...

My resolve broke. My hands hurt, my neck hurt, my eyes hurt from trying to focus on the teeny tiny terrorists who were evidentially winning this war. And that was just me. DS2’s patience wore out sometime during day 2, and hated the thought of sitting in my lap. So I finally relented. The invaders won and I had lost....

...the battle. With DS2’s permission, we got rid of the buggies; the only sure-fire way that I could think of, which of course, ended in a tantrum and lots of tears.

DS2 was very kind and put up with his mother’s theatrics and just wanted to get it over with so he could stop this nonsense and join the ranks of the carefree again. I’ll admit it. It was a little unnerving when I realized that the long hair and size difference were the ONLY differences between my older boys.

 The Boyz took off to play, and I sat there, wallowing in my sorrow that my little boy no longer looked like a baby and was indeed a young man. Heartbreaking as it was, it was kind of nice to realize that we got to save money on shampoo this way because DS2’s long hair and mine put together added up to a LOT of shampoo being used. Besides, as I told him, its only hair and it’ll grow back if he wants it to. The choice is his entirely.

Tuesday, 17 December 2013

Terrible 2's? No. Tyrannical 2's.

As you know, my boys are my entire world, and I try very hard to keep up with the triumphs, and trials of their lives, with a genuine elated smile or a reassuring and supportive one when necessary. With two kiddos in school full time, it can be a bit tricky remembering who they are friends with this week and who they aren’t anymore. The easiest one by far is Ds3 who is at home with momma all day long, which gives me time to devote all of my attention on him while his brothers are at school, and allows me to know who his buddies are and which one is his current favourite at all times. My little Ds3 is probably the sweetest and cutest little guy out there. He has these big, kissable chubby cheeks, these sweet rosy lips that pucker up when he concentrates, Adorable sandy blond curls, and these huge expressive eyes with thick dark lashes that somehow don’t tangle up when he blinks. He is a tiny cherub...

...And unfortunately he has become aware of this, and uses it to his advantage....

All. The. Freaking. Time.

And without fail (like most parents of toddlers), I fall for it, hook line and sinker.

Lately, he and his former best friend (the puppy from one of our previous posts) had some sort of disagreement, which led Ds3 to immediately stop speaking to it, throw it in the laundry room and never look back. I believe that this is the first time I’ve had to deal with one of my kids “dumping” someone... hopefully I’ll remember how to handle it when it involves a real person later on. Fortunately, he has found someone else to fill the position of “BFF” and has become best friends with a stuffed frog, named Mr. Proggy, which he takes everywhere with him (a few times, he’s tried to take his frog “smimming”, which did not end well).
This friendship is so sweet, that anyone who sees them play together will immediately develop no less than 4 cavities and need serious dental work. He talks to his frog, “feeds” him snacks, tucks him into bed, tries to include him in all things DS3, and is surprisingly possessive and protective of him. This is the probably one of cutest things that any of my kids has ever done and I think of it as no less than angelic.

Lately though, my sweet angel has turned into some sort of terrorist who is hell bent on being the boss, is never wrong, and owning absolutely everything under the blasted sun. It was adorable the first time he possessively told me “No Momay, dat DS3’s Proggy!”. Sure I was a little taken back by the suddenness of it all, however I took it in stride and used it to show him the respect he deserves, and agreed that the frog is his, and that I should have asked first before touching it. I swear this went straight to his head because ever since that fateful day, EVERYTHING is now Ds3’s including control, and if you take it away from him, he WILL tell Grandma on you.

The initial cuteness of it wore off quickly and has since turned into some sort of strange power struggle... with a demon no less... over every little thing imaginable.

Time for dinner where Proggies aren’t allowed? “NO MOMAY!! DAAAADDDYYY!!!! MOMAY TAKIN’ AWAY DS3’S PROGGY!!!”
Time to put the boots on when he doesn’t want to? “NOOO DADDY!! MOOOMMMAAAYYY!!! DADDY WANTS DS3’S WITE DAARE!!” (Don’t worry if you don’t follow, it’s hard for even me to understand his logic there)

Time to eat? “NO!” Time to go to bed? “NO!!” Ds3 must share his toys? “NO!!” Let your brother sit there please? “NOO!!!” Stop kicking your brother? “NO! GWAAMMAA!! MOMAY MAKIN’ DS3 SAD!”

I officially hate that tiny two-lettered negative but find myself using it more and more when people try to talk to me.

This leaves me pondering where my sweet little cherub went, and who the hell thought it’d be funny to replace him with this scary little tyrant.

(Like seriously, I'm about finished with this "being the adult all the time" business. I would very much like to just hide in my blanket fort with a flashlight, a box of cookies and a comic book or five)

-One Awesome Mommy

Thursday, 16 May 2013

Mondays Madness was MAD

SORRY for the lateness!!

You see, Monday's post was almost ready to post then I went and decided to be a hero.

I am trying to build a chicken coop for our 10 chickens and 11 ducklings.. currently, they're homeless and are living in a large dog crate inside the house which is messy, noisy and a LOT of work with 3 kids running about. Thankfully they have only been spending their nights inside and they live outside during the day. Anyways, I'm trying to build a chicken coop but its definitely not easy given the material that I have on hand and also the amount of help I have (my "victims" as I've been mentally calling them). So the coop is to be rather large. One wall is approximately 8ft tall and weighs a good 70lbs or so as its made of solid wood and not even plywood.

I am not all that tall. I'm 5'6" at most and am proud of it, and dont actually look like the 1st picture that I posted. I'm also not nearly as strong as I had thought I was because while moving this wall which was too heavy for me... any anyone with more than 2 braincells would have seen that it was obviously a two-person job.

Now. I did a few pretty silly things here. A) I was dragging the wall, and B) I was not looking where I was going, which is why THIS happened:

As it was happening, time slowed to a crawl and I thought two things 1) I had forgotten my cellphone in the house and 2) I had also been dumb enough to not tell anyone what I was doing as I had planned on only being outside for 10 minutes while my kiddos ate their lunch. My next thoughts were...

And then I saw the dog. Oh the dog! The dog!! They're supposed to be our best friends and are supposed to help us when we're in trouble right? Right? 

I would have laughed had I not had 70lbs of wall crushing me. I will admit it.. I started panicking. A lot. I couldnt help it. I left my only real lifeline in the house and didnt tell anyone that I was going to be outside. Thankfully, I managed to wiggle free.
I went to the hospital and got a full-body x-ray. Thankfully, nothing is broken, I'm just bruised and slightly beaten up by the wall. I learned a good lesson or three that day. 1) NEVER try to do a two-person job by yourself, especially if its to do something dumb like prove a point. 2) ALWAYS tell people where you are going and what you are doing and 3) My dog need a Tic-Tac or 5 cuz her breath should be registered as a deadly weapon! All kidding aside, I figure that having my cellphone glued to my body isnt all THAT bad an idea. *sigh* at least I'm on the mend and will be posting another entry tomorrow, and on Sunday to make it up to you guys :)

Saturday, 11 May 2013

Guest Blog by Gabe D. "Untitled"

Hello!! Still not up to making my own posts here due to the current goings on. So anyways, I have another guest blog today. This time it comes from my fellow artist Gabe D. He has a really funny comic called "Funny Thing Happened Today". I've been following it ever since his wife told me about it on a forum that she and I are part of. He has a podcast!!! Oh how I aspire to draw at this type level. 

Thank you Gabe for the relatively short-notice post!! I owe ya one bud!!

-Oneawesomemom aka Mandy


Hey Y'all,

I'm Gabe. Father of one. A girl. Three years old. Nice to meet you.

My wife is beautiful and wonderful and I am so grateful that she would
waste her life on a putz like me. As such it is my pleasure to show my
gratitude in any way possible. The easiest way,of course, is to
provide her with favors. Pretty much anything she wants (if it is in
my power) she gets.

I'm not always happy to perform the favor, but I do it. Because I love
her and I am grateful for her and I want her to know it.

It's been a nice system. She feels appreciated, and I get to stay
married to her. Everybody wins.

Now, we have a little girl (3).

And she is absolutely the spitting image of her mother. Her mother is
the one who works, and I am the one who stays home to rear her. But
there is a problem. As the at-home parent, it is my duty to rear her
properly, meaning, teach her the word "no", and make sure it sticks.

The break-down is that she has her mother's face. I have never said no
to her mother.  I know, on a conscious level, that this is not my
wife, this is my child. She must learn.  On a subconscious level,
however, she has my wife's personality, mannerisms, and her face.

So sure sweetheart, cake would make a great breakfast. Want cookies
for lunch? We can do that. Oh, you don't want to go to bed yet? Okay,
30 more minutes. Okay an hour. Then right to bed!  10 more minutes?

Friday, 10 May 2013

Guest Blog "Wasted Frills " by Cousin CW

G'day readers! I am unable to post today (I'll blog about why for Monday's post) so  I've asked my cousin to guest for me today. Also (and completely unexpectedly) my laptop's keyboard decided to stop working.... I am typing with the onscreen keyboard until it is fixed by DH... so without further adieu, here is today's entry and a picture of kittens... just  because
*sidenote* although I am getting used to typing  with this onscreen keyboard, it is still annoying as @#$^!!!!! 

A HUGE thank you to my cousin CW for today's entry
love, Oneawesomemom, aka Mandy  

Wasted Frills

Hello, I am guest blogger 27, cousin of this blog host.

Unlike her, I am the father of 2 girls and 1 boy.  16, 8 and son is 10. I am a K-5 Art teacher. I am not a know it all do gooder about children and their ways. I have become an observer, nay, a slave to how they roll. As readers must know, the cost of living has not gone down, no matter where we live and wages may trickle up at a snail’s pace. That is if one is lucky to even have a job. Anyhow, 8 yr-old daughter has this tendency to waste stuff. She’ll waste anything from food to dishes, toys to shampoo…all very costly needs.  She is not meager in grades nor in motor skills, she is actually awesome. But like with any person, she has flaws. She has a problem. She is addicted to sugar and making messes. I have found a trail of sugar packets throughout the house, lemon peels and food wrappers in the most secretive of places: under her bed, in the attic, in her closet and in spots of the basement. I’ve even caught her throwing garbage on the ground she ate on, scolded her, and listened to her whine how she didn’t do anything and wasn’t meaning to. Surprised, I’ve offered incentives like movies, parks, dollar store and an allowance but this one is too content to remain sloppy and in shear denial. The latest deed she did not do was take a shower and dump out all of the shampoo and conditioner in the tub to make bubbles. She has done this before and has been reprimanded but to no avail. Mama is at wits end with these antics and I scratch my head. I’m in threatening mode. I threatened to video her while making a mess or while she throws a tantrum and showing it to her teacher. Teacher loves and respects her and places her on a pedestal. I did mention my daughter is awesome. So she would probably faint if she seen how daughter turns into Mrs. Hyde at home. Daughter is cute as a button and equally charismatic, and I don’t wish to treat her with kids gloves but I feel like we are fast approaching an impasse. We’ve modeled, rewarded and encouraged her in many ways as well scolded, teased, negatively reinforced stuff yet her response is defiant. It’s not just a kid thing anymore, nor do I feel in denial of being too passive or being too politically correct as we say in the States. All I can say is it’s not just a boy thing, nor are teachers of little ones, the ultimate parents. We have problems rearing our own kids too.

-CW (Oneawesomemom's cousin)
Kittens !!!!

Wednesday, 8 May 2013

Update and what's been happening

I apologize profusely for not updating more. Things have been rather hectic here since my last post, but fear not, I managed to type and draw up quite a few posts in between then and now. I pretty much have been focusing on DS3's health and new diet restrictions and not on blogging (or school.. ulp!) but everything's ok now so we can resume the 2-3 posts a week, starting with today's!!

As you can probably tell, today's blog is about DS3. He was born a bit of an oddball and cant have a BM easily or even on a regular schedule. Our doctor suspects a rare condition called Hierschprung Disease (HD) which, in laymans terms, means that a section of his lower intestines are not working properly and cause him a great deal of pain when he does finally have a BM... Anyways, he recently had minor surgery to get a biopsy on his intestines and to unblock his tract as it appeared to be absolutely full... I'll spare the details, but the day of the surgery I was a complete mess and even moreso, was an absolute wreck when they actually came to take him in... so was DH.

 Unfortunately, as soon as he was out of sight... I completely lost it and broke down.. thank god DH was there to comfort me.

The surgery only took a little while.. less than an hour really... and he was so upset about the whole ordeal that he cried even more than I did when he woke up... Ok.. so did I.

So we went home after an hour or so in recovery, and they told us that he may be a little sleepy and to just let him sleep if he was. So he sleep he did...

And sleep...
And sleep... but finally...

He practically SPRANG out of bed, his poor puppy (who actually went in for surgery WITH him) got tossed aside... he gingerly crawled into my bed and he and I cuddled all day after that. If there is anything that this experience taught me, its that as much as he drives me crazy... I think that I'd be a broken shell of a person if something serious were to ever happen to any one of my Boyz. I love them with every single cell in my body, and they are my everything