August 31, 2011

See, I'm A Good Mom!

Except that I took zero photos of the boys on their real first days of preschool and 2nd grade. Oh, STFU, I had a lot going on that day, okay? However, the parenting gods presented me with an opportunity to redeem myself by opening up a spot in another preschool and BAM! A new first day of preschool for Asher photo op is upon me.



I haven't recreated Aidan's first day of 2nd grade. Honestly, I could take a photo of him any. damn. day. and it would look like the first day because the kid wears blue shorts and a blue shirt every. damn. day. I've explained before that I don't fight him on the the annoying wardrobe battle very often because I like to flex my parenting muscles on the issues that could lead him to the penitentiary. Where, I might add, they usually wear orange and he's not fond of orange so maybe fear of no blue clothes will scare him straight. Hey, it's a theory. And if not, I'll let the warden deal with it.

August 30, 2011

Not Ready For THAT Talk Yet

My kids are fabulous is that they listen to and like the music I like. None of that Wiggles shit, not in MY Jeep. This does pose some problems though, like I can't listen to any Eminem what-so-ever and I have to mute parts of songs when there are bad words Because you know they NEVER hear those words straight from my mouth, no ma'am. The other day we were listening to Bruno Mars', The Lazy Song so I mute the 'have some really nice sex' part. 

Aidan - I know what he says there, Mama. 

Me - Oh yeah? What?

Aidan - Sex.

Me - And what does sex mean?

Aidan - That I don't know.

Me - Good.

Aidan - Well? What does it mean, Mama?

Me - *turns up music to an unhealthy decibel*

August 29, 2011

No Rhyme Or Reason

Just a heads up - this post is simply random shit going through my head this morning. Please keep in mind I've been up since 4:45am, ran 5.12 miles, baked two loaves of banana bread, done two loads of laundry, cleaned the boys' room and almost finished the animal shelter article for the paper. This, after not going to sleep until 1am. I'd like to thank Mt Dew and 400mgs of caffeine pills for my productivity.

I'm wondering if anyone in the history of the damn universe has ever used super glue and managed to not get it all the hell over themselves? I'm typing one handed because three fingers of my left hand are stuck together and I almost pulled the "P" key off my laptop thanks to that maniacal substance.

Wow, my blog is the #2 destination for people searching for 'sid the science kid boiled ham'. I don't even know what to say about that... Also popular search terms that brought people here? 'Bird shit', 'Jennifer Aniston's nose/nose-job', and 'old lady lived in 1053A Kopke St.'. That last one screams Stalker to me but maybe I'm just paranoid.

This morning's run brought me to 321 miles in 2011. Three hundred twenty one MILES y'all!  So why, pray tell (I've always wanted to say 'pray tell', did I do it right?) does my ass still look like there are two basketballs in my jeans? Come on! I didn't run 321 miles for fun, dammit, I run purely for reasons of vanity and I'm getting zero payoff. And that is bullshit!

I saw The Help with Skinny Bitch and Kid Sister last night at one of those theaters where you eat dinner and drink booze while you watch the movie. This fool country girl is totally in awe of that whole experience. The movie, oh hell, that movie was SO GOOD! I cannot get "You is kind. You is smart. You is important." out of my head now. Also, Bryce Dallas Howard is DEAD. TO. ME. forever now. Yes, I know she was acting and yes, I get that if she made me hate her she did a great job. I don't care. I loathe her character from the depths of my soul and I will hold that feeling against her for the rest of my life. And let's be honest, that fact is going to make absolutely no difference in that woman's life what-so-ever so just let me have it, okay?

Gawd, the Disney Channel is soooo corny! Those kids cannot be that excited about the next episode of Suite Life on Deck.



August 27, 2011

I Almost Went To Prison

I hosted the Fearsome Foursome last night and somehow managed to survive. They showed mercy on me. All four of them ate what I made for dinner - it's really not all that surprising considering it was chicken and mac-n-cheese, actually thanked me for the cookies for dessert, there were no punches thrown, no biting, shoving, slapping, kicking, pinching, head-butting, hair pulling (yes, these boys pull hair), or full body take-downs. And that? No small miracle. Yay me!

Cut to 3am - Asher is up crying because he can't find his blanket. When I go in their room I automatically start counting heads and besides Asher, there are only two. There were four, right? Yes, I'm certain of it! What the... I shrug it off to get Asher settled down thinking one of them - and at this point I'm not even sure which one is missing - went downstairs to the guest bed. You're fine now, Asher, go to sleep, love you, night. Now where the hell is... turn body #1 over - Aidan, turn body #2 over - Julyan. Jayden! Where the hell is Jayden? I go downstairs to look for him. What did he not understand about don't go into the flooded basement? Oh yes, our basement flooded - more on that when I can think about it and not just cry. Jayden isn't there. Shit. Maybe I missed him on the couch in the living-room. Back up stairs I go. No Jayden. Check under the kids' beds. No Jayden. Check the garage. No Jayden. Check all the bathrooms. No Jayden. Shit, shit, shit! Front and back doors locked. Checked my room, my bathroom, my closet,  the laundry room, the linen closet, both hall closets. No Jayden. Oh fucking hell, I'm going to have to tell Kid Sister I lost her kid! I need to call the police. Yes, call police first, tell Kid Sister in police presence to avoid bloodshed. Oh shit, I've seen this Dateline - I get convicted of murder because I write a blog bitching about my kids all the time. *cue uncontrolled body shaking and dry heaving* Go back in boys' room and notice closet door is closed - the closet door is never closed. Open closet doors - Jayden, asleep on the floor completely unaware that he almost got me life in prison. Whew! That was close. I never would have survived the pokey.

August 26, 2011

About That

Remember my rant about preschool? Yeah... about that... after a week in the expensive private preschool I got a call that there was a spot open for Asher if we wanted it. Do I want it? Are ya freakin' kidding me? Yes, I want the spot. Wait, did he get the spot because I am screwed up enough? Ya know what? I don't even care. So now Asher goes to preschool free of charge, Monday through Friday from 12:30 - 3pm. I am thrilled! He is thrilled! 

Now before you start asking me what I'm doing with all my free time, let me give you a quick run-down. I drive Aidan to school and drive home to be Asher's bitch until I drive him to preschool and drive home. Then, two hours later I drive back to preschool to pick Asher up and we drive home. Thirty minutes after that we drive to pick up Aidan from school and drive back home again. Most evenings we drive to one activity or another and drive back home. Are you getting the pattern here? Driving. That's how I'm spending *all my free time*.  I'm not sure which font portrays sarcasm but imagine that last sentence in sarcasm font, mkay?

August 24, 2011

Birthday In The House

Today is Asher's 4th birthday. He's not impressed. He still believes great things happen when you're five and not four. I don't argue with four year olds. Maybe when he's five...

On Sunday we had a birthday party. The punk engaged in Captain America overload - Captain America cake, Captain America decorations, a Captain America costume, Captain America action figures... you get the idea. A fab time was had by all as you will see in the thirteen hundred photos I'm about to upload.

On their birthdays, the boys get to pick anything they want for dinner. Asher picked venison. I love him for that request for two reasons - Number One, I don't cook venison, Daddy does and Number Two, venison is my birthday dinner choice every time, too!

So - Happy Birthday, Asher. Even if you are only four.









August 23, 2011

I Win

Ha ha! I beat the internet!!! 

I say that as if I had anything to do with it. Mere seconds before I fashioned a noose, a kind soul at GoDaddy did in 1.5 minutes what I had been trying to do for 4 damn days. I think some sort of witchcraft was involved but whatever, it's fixed. The transfer is complete. I believe feeds and subscriptions remain unchanged and bookmarked urls will automatically redirect you here. 

If by some chance something isn't fixed... well... you better call GoDaddy because I can't help you.

August 20, 2011

Well???

Moment of truth, dear readers. What do you think of the new title/tagline and header? Cute? Clever? Delusional? Come on with it!

Yes, you're still at mykidsmightbemartians.com and no, I don't want to talk about why you're not at pardonmyblog.com right now. I think it best to keep the number of times I completely lose my shit over not being in total control of the universe to a minimum. Besides, I have a little boy's birthday party tomorrow that I have yet to buy food, cake, decorations, or gifts for. This is probably a good time for the blog to move to the back burner. Although Asher doesn't even care about this, his 4th birthday, because he firmly believes his life will get infinitely better at 5. I gave up trying to convince him that if he is ready to ride his bike sans training wheels when he is 3 or 4, he can do that. But I'm just the mama, what the hell do I know?

August 18, 2011

Blog In Turmoil

All that talk of changes here at ye ol' blog? Now I remember that I don't really like change all that much. Because it's hard. 

Maybe you noticed that Martians was a big fat 404 Error for a day or so. Then it was parked with GoDaddy and right now I believe it to be fixed. Kind of. It should be forwarding to the new url but it's not. And even if it was I don't think the new url is linked to Blogger where this blog-in-turmoil is hosted so when/if the forwarding works my blog won't actually be there anyway. So to summarize, I think the internet is trying to out me as an idiot. And Blogger is being mean to me.

Sid the Science Kid makes me writhe with irritation. Of course Asher loves it. Sorry, I'm easily distracted...

My blog designer is tweaking my header to reflect the changes I've got in mind. I can freely admit that I am a pain in the ass to design for. I'm picky, opinionated, and worst of all - impatient. What do you mean you can't read my mind and you will not be working on my design 24/7? The nerve!!! Just remember that I'm probably going to screw this blog up several more times before this is over. Sorry if you get redirected to some fetish porn site, my bad.

August 17, 2011

Live Like The Indians

The boys stayed the night with Kid Sister a few nights ago and when I came to get them they were all shirtless, shoeless, and weilding butter knives. Save your speeches, noone was injured. I was told they were indians hunting a rabbit for dinner. They had a trap set up - a green onion tied to the end of a broken fishing pole - and were hell bent to catch, kill, and eat a rabbit. I had no fear for the rabbit, come on, the trap was rudimentary at best. I asked if they'd had breakfast and was met with looks of pure disgust and asked in a tone which inferred that I was a complete idiot if I thought indians ate cereal. Before I could answer Aidan says No, mom, indians do. not. eat. cereal. *eyeroll* Yeah! *eyerolls all around* countered the other three and they went on their way. Uh, fine by me, smartass, I'll just read my book and not have to prepare four separate breakfast dishes to suit each one of your picky ass eating habits. Gawd, I really HATE that. Jerks.

Within the hour I had made a bowl of Fruit Loops, peanut butter toast, and scrambled eggs for the weakest of them of them but Aidan was holding out, determined to truly live the way of the indian. He'd pop in every once in a while to make sure I knew how hungry he was but that he was under NO circumstances going to eat anything other than rabbit.

That sure looks good, Mama, my tummy is hungry! But indians don't eat peanut butter toast.

Mom, do indians drink Diet Coke?
Me - I don't know, son.
Probably not. Hmph!

Hey mom, I wonder if indians had pretzels if they would have eated them. Naw, probably not.

Finally after a grueling ninety minutes he comes inside I'm pretty sure indians would have eated cereal if they had some. Cereal is just as healthy as rabbit I bet, hu, Mama?
Me - Uh, Fruit Loops is not as healthy as rabbit but I think scrambled eggs are.
Ok, Mama, I'll have Fruit Loops and scrambled eggs!

August 16, 2011

Us vs Them



Me and Aidan are on the cool side you and Mama are on the sucks side! -Asher

Well, you two suck, you got that part right, kid!

August 15, 2011

Cha-cha-changes

Oh, who among ye geeks can tell me if there is any way to block a certain IP address from viewing my blog? I'd like to redirect him/her to getafuckinglifeandquitstalkingme.com or perhaps heyidiottheinternetisnotanonymous.com. Either would suffice.

I tend to get the itch to change shit up when school starts. This year is no different. I'm contemplating a new hairstyle, new haircolor and ridiculous extensions, oh and this...
See it? No, not my bulbous honker and who forgot to tell me my nose was that freakin' big?!?! the teeny diamond stud I let a tattooed gentleman shove through my nostril last weekend. I quiver at the rebel I'm becoming.

Little known factoid about me in my wilder days - I've had my navel pierced three separate times and my tongue pierced twice. I also have a tramp stamp which I am $800 in to having removed. And I fully plan to get another tattoo. I mean really, I'm not 19 anymore, surely at 32 29 my choice will be more reasonable. It also surely will not be a tramp stamp and there might even be a sentimental meaning to this one. In an attempt to avoid giving my husband a brain embolism, the tattoo is on hold. For now.

Doctor Doctor

I'm taking the boys to a medical expert to explain this shit...

I need someone to explain to me why it is that when the boys are downstairs tearing shit up and I am upstairs screaming at the top of my lungs STOP SLAMMING THE DOORS!!! they can't hear me but when they are downstairs tearing shit up and I am upstairs opening a bag of baked cheetos they come running like I played the sound over a fucking bullhorn. Anyone???

On a related note, am I the only one who thinks cloth candy wrappers and chip bags are a fantastic idea?

August 14, 2011

Preschool Saga

Fucking hell y'all, getting Asher into preschool has been a really 'pisses me off' experience. Let's start at the beginning, spring 2010. I made an appointment to register him at the public school Aidan goes to where we spent 2 hours going station to station manned by bitchy PTA members before finally being told basically suck it, bitch, he's not getting in. And why, may I ask, will he likely not get in? Well, because I'm not an alcoholic, unwed, teenage mother with a felonious, drug addicted baby-daddy. Or something along those lines. Now look, I'm not saying kids with family issues like that shouldn't get some leg-ups but if preschool is something all kids going into Kindergarten are expected to have attended then it needs to be set up with the public school system. But okay, he was barely 3 then, surely the year before he starts school he'll get in. 

Forward to spring 2011, same bitchy PTA members, same two hour registration mind fuck, same you're not screwed up enough, he's not getting in but there's more of a chance than last year so we'll let you know. When will you let me know? The week before school starts. Oh, so I can hope to hell he gets in here but when he doesn't I have ONE week to scramble and get him into another preschool that will undoubtedly cost as much as college tuition. Fabulous. Thanks a bunch.

Which brings us to today when we still don't have an acceptance or a fuck off letter. I call and of course the letters have gone out, don't know why ours isn't here but nope, he's not getting in. And the scrambling begins. By the grace of God a private school in town had one opening in their program - a two and a half hours twice a week for an amount significantly higher than the free public school program. We went, we saw, we wrote a check and now he's in preschool. A private Catholic preschool. We're not Catholic. I hope that's not a problem...

August 11, 2011

Wait, It's Time For School???

Dude! Where did summer go? Aidan and Asher start school next Wednesday! Oh yeah, Asher, too, thank you Baby Jesus. More on that later.

Instead of our summer being eaten up down in Arkansas for weeks on end, Kid Sister and the boys moved here and let me tell ya how freakin' awesome it is for my boys to have their aunt and cousins so close. They are lovin' it! And me? I'm lovin' all the nights they spend at Kid Sister's house. We don't know what to do with ourselves on all those kid free nights, it's just... weird...and blissful! But still weird.

I've read 16 books and ran 96 miles since school let out - most of those at 4:45am since the the husband goes to work at 7am now and oh hell won't I be glad when that shit is over. I took the kids - all four boys - to the zoo twice, to the city pool once, and to the sprinkler park roughly 18 times. We camped yes, sleeping in an air conditioned cabin counts as camping for one twenty-four hour period and barely survived. I got to do a couple adoption events with the shelter where I volunteer in addition to my bi-weekly walking sessions. I've come close to adopting, oh about 12 dogs at various times throughout the summer but Mr Sensible  put the kabosh on those - something about enough mouths to feed and messes... Whatev.

Asher finished his first soccer season in June and starts a new one with a local soccer academy later this month. He'll even have a weekly practice and he's super psyched about that for some reason. I think it's because it's yet another thing for me to schedule our lives around. Hold me. Aidan finished his first baseball season late last month. He has a one day football camp next week and begins flag football later this month. Oh yeah, Asher will be doing Kinder Nature at a nearby nature center on Sunday afternoons. Add all that to a birthday party for Asher that I have yet to plan, Meet Your Teacher nights at both schools and homeowner's association duties that will be fast and furious in the fall... Oh shit. Again I beg... Hold me?

August 10, 2011

Why Do We Say That?

I get why we say pair of shoes. Riddle me why the hell do we say pair of pants? Pair of swim trunks? 

Am I the only one to ask? The Skinny Bitch and I discussed this - during our camping trip which is a blog post all it's own - and we came up empty. Well, I think we would have come to some brilliant conclusion were it not for four small people and two grown ass men who shall remain nameless demanding food, drink, and supervision. *eyeroll*

So, my legions of fans (and by legions I mean all six of you), enlighten me. Am I over-thinking this? Why are we saying pair for an article of clothing of which there is but one. Unless you point to the fact that there are two legs in pants and shorts therefore deeming them worthy of being a pair. Hmmm, that kind of makes sense...

August 9, 2011

Is he a 14 yr old girl or a 7 yr old boy?

Sweet Baby Jesus, I wish uniforms were required for school. I'm telling you the fight over what Aidan will and will not wear to school is on par with ... uh... something really difficult, okay? It requires guerilla warfare tactics and even then, I lose. 

These days Aidan wears only grey or blue t-shirts and athletic shorts.  No, really, if the shirt isn't blue or grey, it hangs in his closet, untouched. Do ya think he'll go for a nice blue or grey polo shirt? Not on your life. Jean shorts? Nope. Khaki shorts? Negative. It's exhausting. What 7 yr old boy gives a shit what he's wearing? This is strictly teenage girl bullshit, I'm not sure how to process this.

We went school clothes shopping this weekend and to say it was the longest few hours of my life is a massive understatement. He now has 7 blue t-shirts, 8 grey t-shirts, 10 pair of athletic shorts - mostly blue and black, a pair of blue and black tennis shoes, a pair of grey tennis shoes, and one blue and black backpack. *shakes head* That boy is going to be the death of me. Or the reason I go to prison. Time will tell.