A Little Game of Cat and Mouse

I think I may change the Tank's and the Destroyer's names to Tom and Jerry. Only problem is I haven't decided who's Tom and who's Jerry.

My middle son and my youngest have an on going rivalry that mimics that of the famous feline and mouse. Much like the cartoon, my two characters have developed a relationship that often involves mayhem and destruction. However, when need be, they can set aside their differences to achieve a common goal.

Recently, I took my troops shopping for party supplies for the General's birthday party. I needed bird seed for a party craft that I had planned. We were on a mission and before we set off into the store I strategically laid out my plan, to ensure that nothing would run amuck.

"We are going in to get bird seed only. You are not to wonder more than five steps away from me and you are not to pick up any toys that we may pass on the way to the outdoor center. Does everyone understand?" I commanded.

To which I received a general nod.

Off we went into the store.

We were off to a good start. We made is safely pass a display of kickballs and everything around us was still intact.

"This is awesome." I thought. I can see the garden center straight ahead. I told myself to keep my eye on the target and not to get too cocky and veer from the plan.

We made it safely to the garden center. And I spotted the bird seed straight away. But so did the Tank and the Destroyer (or I should say Tom & Jerry). Simultaneously they picked up the giant bag. And instantly a battle began over who was going to put the seed into the cart. Within 3 seconds flat an entire bag of birdseed was all over the middle of the isle.

Instantly I was consumed by panic. I screamed "I told you not to touch anything!"

The Tank was quick to retort, "You said not to touch any TOYS!"

I was infuriated and the purple hue that took over my face and the steam that seeped out my ears must have tipped Tom and Jerry off. Because, I've never seen my kids move so fast. The Tank and the Destroyer sped down the isle next to us and returned with a kitty litter scoop and small pail.

"You got to be kidding me?" I scolded. "What are we suppose to do with that?"

Unsure, the Tank uttered, "We can scoop up the birdseed with it?"

My tone of my voice was rising as fast as my temper at this point, I was about to explode, "It has holes in it! It's useless!"

At this point, I thought I was starting to hallucinate as a very kind gentleman walked our way waving what I thought was a white flag. (Turned out he was trying to break the tension and was waving his white hankie.)

My knight in shining armor made light of our situation and told me that he would have someone come clean up the mess.

I apologized for my rogue brigade and the gentleman assured me that "they're boys, it's just a phase, and they'll grow out of it, you just wait and see."

Considering that Tom and Jerry had one of the longest-lived rivalries in American cinema, I think I'm in for a long wait.

Random Act of Kindness

I have always had faith in humanity and that there are people out there who want to make a difference in our world. People who want to spread kindness as if it is a contagious disease. Although, these folks are a rare breed, they do exist. In fact, I had a memorable encounter with such a person yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon, I took my boys to the bank to cash in our coins, for our up coming road trip to Fl. While were were standing at the Penny Arcade, giggling at the machine munching away at our coins, a woman walks up to us and says, "looks like you all are having some fun. What is this thing? I've never seen such a machine."

So I quickly explain that it's a Penny Arcade, basically a machine that counts your change. While I am telling this woman about the machine, my boys are still emptying their jug and and cheering as the machine devours their savings.

The woman still amazed, I'm not quite sure if she was more taken with my boys excitement, or the wonder of this magnificent machine. She asked my boys, "Did you save all those coins for something special?"

And the Destroyer quickly replied, "Yes, Disney World!"
The General followed up with, "Yeah, we saved our money for a whole year!"

We finally finshed feeding the coin machine and it spit out a ticket for us to go and claim our cash. The woman wished us a fun trip then continued on to the teller infront of us.

The boys waited as patiently has they could while the woman fished up her business. When she was done she turned to us and said, "it's so nice to see a young family so excited about saving their money. Here I want your boys to have this." And she handed me several crisp bills.

Stunned, I said, "Wow, this is really kind of you. But, I can't take your money. You don't even know us."

The kind woman insisted, "Please, take it for your boys. I don't have grandchildren of my own and it would give me great pleasure if you let me do this for your children."

There I stood speechless; utterly taken aback by this woman's generousity. When then General stepped forward and said, "Thank you."

"Yes, thank you!" I said. "I can't believe this, Wow...Thank you!"

"Have a good time with your family," her kind words touched me as deelpy as her random act of kindness.

As she departed our prensence she left behind an aura of warmth that left a lasting impression on our hearts.

MAD- LIBS for You Valentine!

Dear Princess Peach,

What are you doing after Transformer practice on Valentine's Day? Want to come over to my kettle? We can ride the school California, or, if it's a bright and icky day, we can fall. If you stay for dinner, you're in for a sticky treat. My dad loves to barbecue prime cats. He is practically a gourmet tree. His steaks are juicy, cute, and guaranteed to melt in your eyeball. And my mom makes chocolate chip shoes that are out of this princess. You'll be eating them until they come out our butt-cracks. After dinner we can go to the movies. Wand Impossible is playing. And, because it's Valentine's Day, I'll even pay for the happy popcorn.

Sleepily,
Johnny Bo Bonny

The Naughty Finger and the Naughty "F Word"

Yesterday morning, I was sitting at my kitchen table, finishing my breakfast, when the General came up to me and flipped me "the bird..." and asked, "What's it mean when someone sticks up their middle finger up at you?"

I nearly choked on my granola. Avoiding the question, I followed up with a question of my own, "Who did you learn that from?"

From the look of the General's face, I could tell that he knew that he was in a hole; naturally he started to try to dig himself out.

Thinking quickly the General responded, "No one. I just know that if you stick your first finger out that it means that you're pointing at something. So, I want to know what it means if you stick your second finger out."

Trying to dance around the meaning, I gave the General a very generic answer, which I thought would satisfy his burning curiosity, "It means a swear word. Something that you should never say."

I just added fuel to the fire.

"You mean, like- I swear to God?" The General continued, "Because, I've sworn before; I swore that I wouldn't throw the Wii remote at my brother, again."

I explained that the swear he was referring to was more like a promise and that the swear that I was referring to is a naughty word that he isn't allowed to repeat.

Again, more fuel to the General's inquiry.

"What swear word does it mean?"

I could tell that the General was going to be unrelenting in his pursuit, so I gave in and told him, "It means the naughty "F-Word that you're not allowed to say."

The General looked baffled, "It means Fat?"

Laughing,I relished in my son's innocence, before telling him ,"No, the other naughty "F Word."

“My family is really boring. They have a coffee table book called 'Pictures We Took Just to Use Up the Rest of the Film."

There's a New Sheriff in Town

and her badge reads : MOM!

I admit it, I am the Queen of Empty Threats. I can't tell you how many times I've threatened to sell my kids to ebay or busted out the world's largest wooden spoon and threatened to paddle their tushies.

Every time my boys would run amuck, I'd pull something new out or my arsenal. Like, "If you don't settle down and BE QUIET while I'm driving, then I am going to pull over and make you walk!" Or,this next one, which I stole from my mother-in-law, and is one of my all time favorites, "Stop hitting your brother! Because if you can't keep your hands to yourself, then I am going to rip them off and beat you with their bloody ends!"


I know what you're thinking, If it didn't work on her or her husband, when they were kids, then why on earth would she think it would work on her kids? I often wonder the same thing, but hey, let's be honest, my sanity, along with all my reason and logic flew out the window a long time ago.

There are days when I feel like I spend hours on end screaming, in what I think is my scary voice, at my little band of trouble. Only to be overrun every time. At my wit's end, I went to the Bear, to seek advice. All he has to do is roar once and our bandits fall straight into formation.

"I don't understand why the kids listen to you and not me?" I whined.

Without even glancing my way the Bear casually answered, "Because you don't intimidate them, they don't take you seriously. They're boys and you're the Mom. I was the same way." He went on in a tone that suggested that I should already know this.

Defensive, I responded, "What do I mean I don't intimidate them? I think I sound scary, when I yell. I'd be scared if I were them!"

Again, in a tone that suggested that he couldn't even believe that he was having to explain this to me, the Bear quickly knocked me off my horse and casually told me, "You don't sound scary, just annoying."

I was taken aback, and a little hurt. I really did want to believe that I could lay down the law with my kids and be taken seriously. So, I devised a new plan. No more screaming. I would simply state the problem, address it, and take action, no more empty threats.

I seized the first opportunity I could to roll out my new plan.

I was on the phone the other day, when the Destroyer came over to me and rudely interrupted, pointing to the phone, "Mommy, I say hi?"

I excused myself from my conversation, "Honey, you're being rude. Mommy's on the phone with someone you don't know."

Momentarily satisfied by my answer, the Destroyer started to walk away, until a light when off in his head, "EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME! Mommy, I say hi?"

Again, I told him that I was having a conversation with someone that he didn't know and I asked him for some privacy while I talked, a foreign concept to the Destroyer. The badgering continued relentlessly. I once again excused myself from the phone to address his unyielding behavior.

I knelt down next to the Destroyer and looked him straight in the eye and sternly said, "You are being very rude and you need to go to your room, NOW!"

"I don't want to go to my room!" he cried.

Trying to keep my cool and not scream, I channeled my inner HULK, "You need to stop before you make me angry, you won't like me when I'm angry."

This stopped the Destroyer's tears mid stream and he looked up at me and asked, "Why Mommy, you going to turn green?"

I couldn't help but laugh, looks like this Sheriff has been run out of town again.

I Can Fly! I Can Fly!

"All it takes is faith and trust!"- Peter Pan

Occasionally, my boys go on treasure hunts in our attic, sifting through my reserve of stuff that I basically wish would disappear, but I don't have the heart to throw away, because someone has given it to my kids as a gift, like Moon Sand and Flubber. Yes ,they are as messy as they sound and my troops don't need any extra help in that department. They are ruinous enough on their own.

On the Destroyer's most recent rummage through the attic, he found a set of fairy wings. (Which, my aunt picked up on clearance a few years ago and gave to me; I think she figured that at the rate I was popping out babies that one was bound to be a girl.) The Destroyer was tickled by his find. The wings matched his new wand perfectly.

That night the Destroyer showed off his new wings for the Bear. To my surprise the Bear didn't growl at the sight of his son in fairy wings whirling his purple magic wand around. Instead, he picked the Destroyer up and helped him fly around our family room. The Destroyer was truly lost in flight as he started shouting, "Throw me Daddy! Throw me! I can fly!"

At this point the Bear lost his composure to a fit of laughter. "I'm not throwing you! You'll kill yourself!"

To which the General chimed in, "Yea, you can't fly you don't have any fairy dust!"

I don't know which gives me happier thoughts, my boys wild and fantasic imginations or the Bear's acceptence of them...fairy wings and all.