niblets

I have successfully transitioned one of River's sayings to: what the rabbit!? and sometimes bunny. So if he says it to you, laugh hysterically please.

Tomorrow is the big bigs last day at school.

I need to buy another picture memory card so you all can have regular picture updates again.

I made more than 50 water balloons with River today for Hunter's last day party. It was wet.

I landed that job, so the kids must've given me good reviews. *lol* I am SO excited about it. It's kind of perfect for me. I probably can't say much about it - I'll see if they say anything next week during orientation.

Oh! But I totally get to wear scrubs. *unabashed glee*

Parenting

As a parent, mostly I think I do a decent job. I'm not their friend. They don't get in a lot of trouble. They behave at school. You know, despite my bitching and moaning here, they are relatively good kids.

And then there's the part where I seriously suck.

When Hunter was little he learned how to swear. Because he listened to his mother. Yes, I talk like a sailor. It was really funny for a while, but we imagined that it was probably not appropriate and would stop being cute as he got older. Since Hunter and Meadow were so close in age, we never had to un-teach her because I curbed my filthy mouth and she just didn't pick that stuff up.

When they got older, I returned to my blue-streak because, well, I love me some swear words. I know, I'm awful... blah, blah, blah. But you give me a word that rolls off the tongue and has the impact of a good f-bomb and I will convert. **Warning: Justification coming!** Besides, sooner or later they will hear these words and not be allowed to use them, might as well learn the difference in a friendly environment.

So River has started using some pretty colorful language as of late. *shocked horror*

We've tried ignoring it. (After some seriously wrong laughing fits.) We've tried distraction. We've tried giving him alternatives and then laugh hysterically when he says something benign. (Apparently he can gets the difference between sincere laughter and controlled fake laughter.)

The point, I guess, is that I actually am starting to have some remorse here.

See, when you stub your toe and say, "Son of a... (see toddler, remember new pledge, insert new word) fairy toe!" And then he says the following: "Son of a bitch mom, son of a bitch." And then you don't laugh and you say, "No, that's not funny dude." And then he says, **okay, this is really embarrassing and a little shameful so, um, well laugh or something instead of being horrified. because i am HORRIFIED. especially because i totally realize that it's all my fault.** "Fucking bullshit."

And then my eyes popped out of my head and I ignored him and looked at my husband and said, "Did he just say what I think he said?!" And he nodded.

So, one of my worst attributes is being mirrored in a huge way. And I'm going to have to just grow up and quit talking like that.

I thought I was going to be able to sum this up with a funny swear or something, but honestly, I'm so ashamed that he has heard that combo enough to use it spontaneously and in the correct context that I just don't think I can. Because it's not funny.

**Here comes another obnoxious, possibly shameful mocking tone. Really, I just can't help myself.**

So I guess there's only one thing left to do. I have to admit I have a problem.

Hi, I'm Sunshine. And I'm a swearaholic.

Fat and crack

There is a woman at the pool who I... well, she's awesome. I remember her from last year. I came home after seeing her the first time and told Mike, "Maybe I could wear a modest bikini. There was this woman at the pool today, and if she can do it, I totally could." He looked at me with one of those tentative, um are-you-suffering-from-heatstroke looks. (For the record, I agree. I just don't have the balls to carry that off. Bikini days are over here.)

Anyway, we saw her again this weekend. In all her bikini glory. Here's the thing. It's all tan. And you know, it's not like people don't know you've got extra cushion just because it's covered up. We're not blind. She's never tugging at her tankini when she gets out of the water so it doesn't hug so tightly. She's just out there. And I think it's awesome.

In comparison, we saw a much thinner woman who was... pornographic. If you have on a bikini bottom that only barely covers the top portion of your hind end and the bottom portion then comes together in a way that says, "Holy crack, somebody lost their bottoms!" It's not okay. I don't care how thin you are, I don't ever want to see that much crack. It's not like it was incidental low-riding peeks at crack. It was intentional, full-on crack. Not cool. And she was wondering around the toddler area. Seriously, not cool.

So, for the record: fat=okay; crack=bad.

Don't break my balls!

The ultimate goal of parenting is to raise independent people who are kind and self-sufficient. Or at least something close to that.

Hunter this morning told me that the shirt I'd set out for him smelled like puke. What this really means is that he doesn't like it. He doesn't think he can just say, "Hey this shirt sucks, I'm going to get another." Instead he makes up some fact that he knows will be unreasonable to contradict. His circular, passive-aggressive thinking drives me insane. Instead of having this conversation yet again, I sighed and told him to get another.

Meadow was wearing flip flops this morning. School rules won't allow flip flops at school. I think it may be an OSHA rule, I don't know. This is a conversation I have had with her 80 billion times. No joke. So this morning when I reminded her that it's a school rule, not my rule, she again took to arguing with me. Yes, me. About the rule. I sighed and asked her to please just put tennis shoes on.

I love my kids. There are so many wonderful things about being a parent. But there are also things that suck the life out of you. Like when you want to raise these independent people, but no one tells you that the path to get them there is really irritating. You want them to look at you with some sort of gratitude, instead you get these looks that say, "I guess you should have thought about that before you spawned us." Yes, I suppose I should have. But babies are so mushy and cute!

It's really funny when a toddler picks up something completely inappropriate from a commercial and repeats it loudly and often. If you've seen any previews to TLC's Cake Boss, the New Jersey cake boss says, "Don't break my balls!" to one of his employees. Why River picked that particular part of the commercial to hold onto, I don't know. Listening to him repeat it over and over is one of the funniest things EVER. Really. So when I'm exhausted from running around after River at a BBQ, I am also acutely aware that he still thinks I'm awesome and that this time is short. I'm going to hold on to that for as long as he'll let me.

Humbling tips for job hunting

When applying for a job after basically going to school and being a mom for 10+ years, be prepared to lose control of your bowels when they say "Please provide four professional references, at least 2 direct managers."

Do the kids count? (Because I am totally River's bitch.)

Wish me luck!

**Wait. I don't think I want the older ones to review my performance. They have a distorted vision of reality and what does and does not constitute "meanest mommy EVER".

small talk

dropped river off today and witnessed this conversation:

alex, i had a bath!

you did?!

yeah! smell my hair, alex! smell my hair!

no!

it smells good!

no!

alex! smell my hair!

no!

*lol*

**something profane, yet charming** (if you know of such a word, let me know)

This is what life is like in our house right now:

• AHHH! OMG! FINALS!
• Holy mother of stomach ailments, i think we has the piggy flu here
• Yes, I am aware there are all kinds of things wrong with that last bullet point (see first and second bullets and then ponder how much I care)

Huh. I guess that's it. Back in a week or so:)

Wow, I suck. **updated**

So I'm trying to figure out why Meadow is crying about something she didn't like on her field trip and I say something like, "Seriously. Did you get hurt? Because if you didn't I just can't imagine what you could possibly have to cry about on a field trip."

They made her look at a dissected frog. That used to be alive. And that made her sad enough she still can't talk about it without crying.

Wow, I suck.

**Later, when Meadow was explaining to Mike about the frog she said this:

"They SAID they use a company who looks for dead frogs, AKA they totally kill frogs."

Is it wrong that I love that I've raised such a good little skeptic?**

Another sweatpants drawer and cancer talk

I want another sweatpants drawer. I'm not sure what else to say about this, except that it kind of sums up the horror my husband feels almost every time I leave the house. I plan on growing up some day, but not until I have to. And... if I get a job at a hospital and get to wear scrubs... that poor man will never have a properly dressed wife.

***

Now for a completely unrelated story:

Hunter came up last night and asked us to look at his eye because he had a gray line across it. Mike took Hunter's glasses off and said, "Dude, you just need to clean your glasses." I heard Hunter reply, "Oh, because I heard that a gray line in your eye was a sign of cancer."

True story.

A Quick Note To My Dog

Dear Lola,

You seem like lately you've been losing your mind a little bit.

When you do things like POOP on the bed, it makes it hard to defend you. You know, it's a bed. The one we SLEEP in. Now, while I'm grateful that you made it happen on Mike's side, there is also a limit as to how much I can protect you.

So to be clear: Don't EVER poop on the bed again. M'kay?

Love,

The one who protects you.

Spring Snow

Easter egg pictures

Just trying to help out

Did you know that in order to take advantage of crock pot cooking you have to remember to plug it in?

You're welcome.