Now That I Have a Minute

This month has been the usual crazy.

Madison just finished soccer (which went two weeks over because the weather has been less than cooperative) and she started track.

You know what I did when I was 11?  I came home from school and watched Cloak and Dagger and ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.   I would have done homework but I'm pretty sure I didn't have any.

We also celebrated Mother's Day. All the kids made cards for me and each of their cards perfectly reflected their personalities.

Madison's envelope said, "My Favorite Memories With My Mom" inside I found a list titled "All The Things We've Done Without Telling the Boys  . . . ."  Every single item was a treat we got on the way home from somewhere and, of course, didn't tell the boys.

MacKay's card was a letter telling me all the ways I'm a wonderful mom.  His last line was my favorite, "But I infinity thank you for paying for me to go to school."  I laugh because he is going to a public elementary school where education is still free.  But then I thought about the forty some odd bookmarks and thirty some odd bracelets I made for him to sell at his class store and realized I really do pay for his education--and he should be grateful, gosh darn it--that started out as "damn it", but I'm trying to swear less.  Are you so proud of me?

Chase's card had a pretty flower on the front and on the inside he wrote, "Dear Mom."  That's it.  Just, "Dear Mom."  He didn't even sign it.  It is quite possibly the best card he's ever made me.  I love it.

Davis' card remains to be seen because he lost it the same day he made it.  I'll probably find it when I find the fan remote he "borrowed" six months ago.

I'm Too Old for This

Very soon I will be turning thirty-something.  I've never been able to keep track of my age.  I became painfully aware of this when I was fifteen and the boy I liked asked me how old I was and I accidentally told him I was, "twelve.  No no no no no . . . I'm um . . . fifteen?"  He never talked to me again.  I do know that I'm somewhere in my thirties and I know I could figure out how old I am with some basic math, but the fact is I don't really care so I'm not going to bother.

This year I decided to go to a concert for my birthday.  I found out that Flogging Molly was playing at the Saltair (basically its an airplane hangar that looks like Alladin's castle on the edge of the Great Salt Lake) and Michael bought tickets for us.

There were two stages, one inside and one.  A lot of smaller local bands were going to be playing as well as two headlining bands.  As you know, Flogging Molly was one of the headlining bands--the other was a band called The Hollywood Undead (mom-- don't follow that link).  Michael and I had  heard the song I linked to, but that was the extent of our Hollywood Undead knowledge.  We should have known we were in for a treat when our friend, Kelly, saw the tickets and said, "Hollywood Undead?  Aren't those they guys who wear masks and stuff?"  At the time I wasn't sure.  Now I can safely say that yes, yes they are.   In fact, their very loyal fans (some as young as ten) wear masks and stuff too.

My evening went like this--

• We arrive at the Saltair
• I visit the restroom and overhear a group of girls talking about how they got their speed past the security guards.
• We listen to a bunch of local bands-- some good, some very very bad.
• I overhear a group of girls talking about about how old some of these people are.  I am pretty sure she means me.
• We pass a booth encouraging us to join the army.
• We pass a booth handing out condoms and encouraging me to learn more about chlamydia.
• We notice that Flogging Molly is starting to set up
• I receive a text from my friend Jill telling me to stay away from the circle pit.  I have no idea what the circle pit is.
• I try to find an out of the way spot that is close enough to get a good picture
• A drunk girl rubs my arm and asks me to stand by her because we are both short.
• I discover what the circle pit is and realize I haven't avoided it at all. 
• We decide to check out Hollywood undead because they are outside and there is more room outside.
• We turn around and go back inside.
• We find a new out-of-the-way spot.  In the back.  The way way way back.
• I give up on trying to get a good picture.
• We listen to a couple more songs
• We leave early.

This is my best picture

The concert was on a Thursday--now I am going to fast forward to Saturday afternoon.  I come in the house after Kai's baseball game when Michael tells me to look at the back of my car and I see this--

Now keep in mind I drove this car around all Friday and a good portion of Saturday.  This is the car I drove my mother-in-law around town in.  This is the car I took to the baseball game. This is the car I TOOK THE KIDS TO AND FROM SCHOOL IN.

I was relieved to find out it was magnet and not a real bumper sticker.  Well, not just relieved-- I was also excited. Mom, you may want to keep that Volvo in the garage for a while.

Its All About Confidence

Note:  This post contains a video that doesn't show up on Facebook.  If you're reading on Facebook you'll have to go to the blog to watch the video.

One of my favorite stories is from when MacKay was three.  I was driving the boy and his friend in the back of the van and they were singing the alphabet song together.  Kai would sing it with the letter P twice.  The first P was sung correctly and the second P was sung when you're supposed to sing V.  So,
when Kai sang the second P his friend corrected him.  However, by the time we reached our destination Kai had convinced his friend that the letter V wasn't actually a letter and that P was important enough to be mentioned twice.

When I told my brother this story he said that MacKay will eventually learn the alphabet but his friend may never learn the art of persuasion.  You have to be born with that kind of confidence.

So was I surprised when Davis told me he could spell anything?  Not really.

Oh and incidentally, he can speak Spanish and Chinese too.

Oh the HUMANITY!!

This is how Chase feels about getting his hair cut.

Seeing as its a pretty stressful event we try wait a while between cuts and cut it pretty short when we do.

Last week he approached me looking like this.  Apparently he had gum in his hand when he decided to scratch his head. 

We had just cut his hair a week before so it was already pretty short.  I told him to get the gum out we'd have to cut it again. 

When I finished he said, "When I look in the mirror and see how short my hair is I'm going to be SOOO Mad at YOU!"

"Excuse me?  Am I the one who put gum in your hair? You don't get to be mad at me this time."

He gave a little whimper and ran off to the bathroom.  There was one good shriek of terror when he saw his new cut but was smart enough not to direct his frustration toward me.  Frankly I think he's adorable.