Mother of the Year

Friday I earned my nomination for Mother of the Year.

Me: Hey, guys, I need to tell you something.

Kids: Yeah?

Me: Well, unfortunately, we will not be able to go to Pizza Bingo (A.K.A. The Social Event of the Year at the kids' school). 

Kids: (All three faces fall.) 

I have learned that the best way to give my kids disappointing news is to offer a great alternative at the same time.

Me: So I decided that we should all go to Chuck E. Cheese's instead.

Kids: (Cheers!)

Yes, I voluntarily decided to bring my children to that loud, flashing, beeping, screaming kid mecca.  Aren't I a good mom?

I am amazed to report that it actually was not as bad as I thought it would be.  It's always hard to predict how Twin A will react to a place like that.  The noise overwhelms ME; I can't imagine what it's like to someone who has any kind of sensory issues.  Both boys put their hands over their ears when we first walked in, but were able to relax within a few minutes.  I gave everyone their own cup of tokens, went over the boundaries with each of them, and then we all went our separate ways.  The Princess and I walked around together since she was a little hesitant to walk around by herself.  She and I had taken only a few steps when we saw a sight that stopped us in our tracks:

 
Now most people would look at this game as simply one more part of the flashing lights and clanging noises that are omnipresent within Chuck E. Cheese's.  But The Princess and I knew better.  Twin A, for reasons that usually only make sense to himself, has developed incredible fears that paralyze him with fright for a variety of things.  The game Operation is one of them.  I suppose it's the buzzer that makes loud noises unexpectedly, but Twin A is so terrified of this game he flips out if he even sees the closed box in someone's house, not settling down until the game is moved into another room.  We both knew that this could result in needing to leave much earlier that we had planned.  I swore The Princess to secrecy, making her promise not to tell either brother that this game was here, and we continued on our way.

Next time we ran into Twin A, we found him completely immersed in his all-time favorite arcade game: Guitar Hero.  Life was good.  He stayed under the Guitar Hero spell for the majority of the time we were there, even once playing against another kid's dad, beating the pants off him and then telling him, "Good game," with a thumbs up.   I knew instantly when he became aware of the offending game; I looked over and saw Twin A on the opposite side of the place, hands over his ears, shoulders raised defensively, still trying to put a token into a diferent game.  That required a great deal of dexterity!

As we left, Twin A requested that next time, I should make sure not to play Operation.  Sure, it was okay for everyone else there to play the game, but he really minded when I was the one playing. 

Whatever.  I still think I have earned my nomination.  And then some. 

Winter Vacation

Actual size of bandaid on her big toe.

The Princess is resting on the couch is resting her foot with the injured toe on the coffee table.  You see the toenail has broken slightly and she refuses to allow me to trim the nail at all.  She would, however, allow me to put a bandaid on it.  Unfortunately we don't have any normal size bandaids, so I had to use a very large one and then tape it down on all sides, so it appears to be almost a cast on her big toe.  It's a shame she's not more dramatic.



Not even close to the actual amount of Legos Twin A actually owns.

 Twin A is in the playroom putting together one of his fifty thousand Lego kits he received from my ILs for Christmas.  Yes, we're Jewish, but my ILs are not, so we stay overnight on Christmas Eve every year and then spend Christmas Day there as well.  And man, do the kids get presents!  In any case, Twin A has been having major, major meltdowns about being able to use the Wii, so we have been writing a schedule for him each day to show to show him when he gets his fifteen minutes of electronic time.

Twin B is in the dining room trying to grow crystals with his new chemistry set.  Every minute or so he tells me a fact about what he is doing or to read me a direction.  And then repeats it.  The same fact or the same direction.  Or the same question.  Over and over and over and over again.  I keep jumping up to make sure he has read the directions.  Or is not using his finger to stir the crystal solution.  Or is actually using a measuring instrument to measure out 1/3 of a teaspoon and not just pouring in what looks like it could be that amount.  Because in the back of my mind, I fear I will miss hearing him say this some day, and then it will be too late:

DH is resting upstairs after having spent most of the morning shoveling out the driveway.  And the sidewalk.  And one of our elderly neighbor's driveways.  Because he is just that kid of guy. 

We had attempted to take the kids sledding after he finished shoveling, but, BRRRRR - Baby, it's COLD outside!  I think it took longer to get our winter gear on than we actually ended up spending outside.  After a few minutes (literally) at the top of the hill with the wind so strong that it actually knocked the Princess down twice, the kids began begging to go home.  So much for "family bonding."

But ultimately, it's all good, because the kids will soon be heading over to my sister's for a sleepover.  Oh yeah, DH and I are going to the movies and then to a big book store (because that's what we like to do in our free time - hanging out in a book store is our version of geek heaven), and then back home without having to whisper or tiptoe or hold back any noises at all, if you know what I mean (wink, wink).  And then we get to sleep in as late as we want (as long as we pick up the kids by noon).  Oh yeah!