Damn Elf!

Last year my Mom gave my family an Elf on the Shelf. The girls were sooo excited. They named him Buddy and eagerly looked for him each morning. My husband, luckily, was great at moving him each night before bed. It really added to the fun of the Holiday season.

This year we started out great! A few days after Thanksgiving Buddy made his debut.

He surprised the girls with a breakfast - he went into my Christmas things and brought out some holiday plates and mugs. He left them hot cocoa,marshmallows and pastries. The girls were out-of-their-minds thrilled.

But Hubby and I had a little trouble this time around. It was a busy year for us.

A few nights after being with us, we stuck Buddy on a metal wall hanging in the living room. We tucked his legs behind it to leave it secure. The next night we forgot to move him. After the girls discovered him in the same place they panicked. Buddy was stuck in the metal tree! He couldn't move his legs! Did he break them? That night they anxiously said good night to him and wished him luck getting unstuck.

Another day he fell from the tv stand. What to do? If we moved him he would lose his magic from our touch. But if we left him there he would surely meet his demise through the teeth of our dog. So using just two fingers, I delicately moved him back into his spot. That was a close call!

He was a lot of fun though. I enjoyed listening to the girls talk to him. Ratting out each other for wrongs done. Long explanations of why they did some of the naughty things they did.

And then there was the fun Hubby had with him. Putting him in some precarious and questionable situations just for the fun of it.

Her name certainly isn't Chastity....

Buddy just loves snacking on bananas... What? You thought he was holding onto something else? Perv.




But I have to admit, I was kind of relieved to hide him back in the trunk in the basement on Christmas eve. One less thing to have to remember to do each night!


Fast forward to this week. D1 has a new friend over for a play date. After about the third "no, you can't do that" I agreed to let them into the basement to look at hubby's matchbox car collection. Five minutes later three very upset little girls come up stairs. D1 is holding Buddy out in her arms. "We found Buddy in your Christmas stuff!"


Shit.


What I proceeded to act out was Oscar worthy. Amazing. Best Mommy of the year award stuff.


I told them to put him down. He'll lose his magic! We discussed that he must have accidentally got stuck in there. I said that I bet Santa was very worried about him. I told them that while they shouldn't have been poking around in that stuff, it was a good thing they saved him! My D2 seemed to go with it. She fully believed. D1's friend also seemed convinced. I asked her if she had an elf on the shelf. She said yes, but that hers definitely went back to the North Pole. He definitely wasn't in their basement because their basement was full of mold. Hmmmm... file that under "kids say the darndest things!". Hee Hee.


But D1 seemed a little leary. I could tell she was really thinking and analyzing the situation. Then I heard her whisper to her friend "maybe Buddy really isn't magic. Maybe our parents move him around every night"


Shit.


I needed to step things up.


I asked them to show me the trunk they found Buddy in. They took me downstairs and pointed it out. I got a look of worry on my face. "oh no! that's where I keep Santa's mug for milk! I went down here Christmas eve to get it, Buddy must have followed me! Then I let my eyes tear up just a little as I quietly said "oh no, do you think I hurt Buddy?" Their eyes all got big as I said this. They started discussing the possibilities, talking over how hurt he was. It was working!

We went back upstairs and discussed what to do with Buddy now. We decided to delicately move him onto one of my few remaining Christmas decorations. A small decorated tree in the foyer. I instructed them to begin singing Christmas carols as I carefully moved him. Then we said a prayer to the spirits to protect him and make him well.

After D1's friend left (and I won't even go into the awkward conversation with the other Mom... ummmm surrey but I may have ruined your child's belief in Santa and Elves... surrey about that)we spent the rest of the evening watching Christmas cartoons to help infuse Buddy with the magic of the Christmas spirit.

After they went to bed, Hubby drafted the most brilliant of letters to the girls. It was from Flick, the head elf. It thanked the girls for finding Buddy. It explained that he was in the elf hospital, in tough shape but he would survive. The girls were thrilled, and convinced. Thank God.

And Buddy is currently spending his vacation at Hubby's office. Till next year.

Well, Hi There

Ummm... Hi.

How have you been? Remember me?

So I took a little break. Yeah. That's it. A sabbatical. A sabbatical from an oft-neglected blog.

But I miss it. So I'm going to try again. Will you come back? I hope so.

Why did I stop in the first place? Besides my short attention span to just about anything?

Well, it's complicated.

I'm going to put it all out there for you.

First of all, I was feeling a little like the only posts I could write were the funny, poke-fun-at-myself types. I like writing those, don't get me wrong, but I'd like to write other stuff. So I'm thinking the New Adventures of Jen will be a little more well-rounded

Kind of like my arse. (Oh my god. Did I really just type that?)

The blog is going to be a little more like me. All over the place. Joking, crafting, cooking, dreaming, savoring, gossiping, bragging and maybe a little bitching.

But I can promise you one thing. It won't be about my love of sports. Well, except maybe my love of drinking beer at Hockey games. I do love that.


And then, well, there was my kids. I was finding, or maybe just feeling, that people in my local sphere were holding some of the stories against me. Kind of expecting certain behaviors from them because of the stories I write about them. My kids are unique. I'm unique. We aren't vanilla. But if you can't love us, then we don't need you around. This is something I'm working on, something I need to fully embrace, but I do believe it.

And then one of the other reasons why I stopped the blog was something a little harder to talk about. Something I'm still struggling with sharing, even as I type this. You see, well one of my girls has a touch of Autism. Just a touch. For reals. Borderline. But still so,so hard to accept. And yes, at this point, almost 2 years after the diagnosis, we are in such a better place. She is doing great. Learning and making strides. And yes, I believe soon, very soon, that it won't be her diagnosis. Or the diagnosis will change to ADHD. Or just pain-in-the-arse tween. My hopes for the blog is to share a little of what we went through, to educate other parents, provide comfort to some. But that part is going to be a challenge for me. It's one of my babies after all. Will I be doing her a disservice by telling all about her? I don't know. Perhaps I will keep it more on what I went through with the diagnosis, not so much about her. We shall see.

But come along, lets see where else my adventures take me!

The First Day of the Rest of Our Lives

My D1 just finished up her first week of kindergarten. Sending her off that first day was momentous. Watching her walk up the steps of the bus was a literal step up to the next stage of her life. My baby! Gone. A part of the machine. After a couple of days, though, it dawned on me. She wasn't the only one sucked into the machine. I was, too.

For the past five years, as a stay at home Mom, I've been pretty much on my own. No real schedules or deadlines to meet that weren't of my own making. I did what I wanted, when I wanted. Of course, don't let that statement mislead you. It's not like we stayed up all night and slept till noon. But still, it was a laid back sort of life style.

Now our schedules will be dictated by school and extra-curricular activities. Bus times and homework. Morning routines and bedtime routines. And by the time D2 graduates, It will have been 15 years of this routine for me! Have I mentioned to you that I get bored of things easily? 15 years of this? Wow. I mean, I know it will change in a few years as they get older. But still, take the dropping off at the bus(because the bus stop is almost a mile away, I drive her there - ridiculous!) I'm thinking I can't let them walk there by themselves till fourth grade, at the earliest. Which means when D2 is in fourth grade - five years from now! And I'm already hating this part of the routine, after day 4!

And yes, I know, I haven't even made it into homework battles! My brother told me about the homework struggles with his 7th grader. When my bro told his son to write one more sentence in each paragraph of his essay, my dear nephew wrote at the end of each paragraph "this is one more sentence" Sarcasm runs in the family.

Oh, and did I mention the politics of it all? Suddenly, I'm concerned with how cool D1 appears. Are the kids making fun of her for her shoes not quite matching her outfit? Because her pig tails are a little too wild? And where is my place in things? Do I give her a hug or a high five at the bus stop? When can I email her teacher to ask how things are going?

It never dawned on me that having children would mean going through school all over again.

Adventures in Babysitting

So I tricked, errrr, I mean I asked a friend to watch the girls for me tonight while Hubby and I went to a meeting. More than once I asked, "Are you sure?" and she kept saying it will be fine. But then she made a joke about being sure to hide all the scissors. Which got me all worried, I mean should I fill her in on EVERYTHING the girls could possibly get into? I keep thinking I should call her to discuss. But then I start thinking about what the conversation could be like, if I really did follow a policy of full disclosure.

Me: Sooooo, I just wanted to touch base about tonight and what you can expect from my girls. Thought I'd give you a few tips.

Friend: Oh, it will be fine. My kids can be a little rambunctious at times, too!

Me: (nervously)yeah, I'm sure! Just, ummmm, you said you were having spaghetti and meatballs?

Friend: yes, do they like that?

Me: Sure, but you weren't going to put grated cheese on the table, right? I mean, not where they could actually reach it? And if you are having salad, you will lock, I mean put the dressing in the fridge so they can't get to it, right?

Friend: uh, sure.....

Me: Ok, great! And your kitchen and powder room sinks - you could put the soaps on a high shelf, right?

Friend: (long pause)yeah, I guess I could do that....

Me: great, great! Oh, and the upstairs bathrooms, you don't have hair gels or make up or shampoo just out, right?

Friend: ummmm, actually I do.

Me: Well, why don't you just do a quick trip around the house and gather those things up. Put them on a high shelf, too.

Friend: Oh, I'm sure they won't get into anything like that! But, ok.

Me: Yeah, I'm sure it will be fine. Oh yeah, if you have any step stools you may want to lock them in the garage. Wouldn't want them to be used to get up to those high shelves of yours! I mean, just in case, that is.

Friend: Ok. So how long did you say you would be gone?

Me: Oh, just a little over two hours.

Friend: Oh, no problem. The girls couldn't possibly get into much trouble in that little bit of time.

Me: (long pause for hysterical laughter mixed with crying) Yeah, of course not.

Friend: Ok, so anything else?

Me: Well, let me see. You weren't going to give them anything with sugar or red dyes, right? That makes them a little crazy....

Friend: Oh, I just made cookies with red M&M's. My kids were all excited....

Me: Oh, just let them fill up on them before my girls get there! Oh, and after D2 eats or drinks anything, force her to use the potty. She refuses to wear a diaper, but she also likes to pee in some strange places!

Friend:(silence)

Me: Ha ha, that was a joke. sort of. I mean, she doesn't do that all the time.

Friend: (silence)

Me: Oh, just one more thing! While you are putting away the soap and stuff, make sure there are no pens, pencils, markers, paint, or glue left out! Boy, do they like to color on those walls!

Friend: (silence)

Me: Ok! So see you tonight!

Friend: Oh, darnit! I just took another look at my calendar. I almost forgot we have a really, really important meeting. Uh yeah, we have to meet with the hamster breeder out in New Jersey. Wow! Can't believe I forgot about that! Looks like I won't be able to watch your sweet girls after all!

Me: Really? Oh no! I mean they are such easy girls to watch. Maybe you could take them with you? There isn't a whole lot of damage they can do in the car once they are strapped in. Just don't give them snacks....

Friend: So sorry! Nope, not enough room in the car! Oh look at the time, gotta go!


Wow. I'm sure that's how it would play out. Definitely, definitely not making that call.

Super Freak

So, I really enjoy using the word "freaking". Not nearly as much as it's cousin, the F bomb, but in a very poor attempt at censoring myself, I use freaking. A lot. In fact, I have quite a few words and/or phrases that ummmm, color my language. "For the love of god" is one. I attribute that to my Jersey days. It's just a very Jersey thing to say, I think. Oh, and along those same lines I say "oh my god, I almost died". "Crap" I say way too much, which is another pathetic try at not saying shit. Although I still say "shit" a lot too, a favorite phrase being "I don't give two shits..."

But anyways, I digress. Hmmmm, that's a word I don't use often enough. I'll have to remember that. Ok, back to what I was saying. About a month ago, my Dad was visiting and in the course of our conversation, I probably said "freaking" a good 5 times. Which he felt compelled to point out, saying "you know, you say freaking a lot, you should probably watch that or your kids are going to start saying it"

Arghhh... my Dad freaking jinxed me!

Today, I was standing on a step stool, digging out the finger paint from the top shelf in the craft closet (which EVERYTHING is on the top shelf in the craft closet, come on, you've read this blog, I can't leave anything lower!) While I was digging around, the bag of playdough fell and scared D1. Can you guess her response? Here it was: "Freaking playdough, you just freaked me out". Ahhhhh.... thanks Dad!

After I stopped laughing, I called hubby to tell him. And after he stopped laughing, he pointed out what a smart girl D1 is. She figured out how to use "freaking" two ways! As an adjective and a verb! Words can not fully express how freaking proud I am.

I need bam bams for my boo boo's on my ba ba's

So I think I've mentioned that I live in a very conservative suburban neighborhood, complete with a Home Owner's Association with rules out the wazoo and every other house proudly waving their McCain signs. And I know I've mentioned my very nice neighbor with the immaculate house. Should also mention that her children are always nicely (and fully!) dressed with brushed hair and clean faces.

Enter The Henny Crew. When playing in the back yard, I consider it a good day if both girls have on a shirt and a pair of pants. A clean shirt and pants and the heaven's are shining down on us. Clean clothes, shoes, combed hair and washed faces are, well are nothing, because it's yet to happen.

On Saturday, my sister, nephew and Mom came to visit for the day. The weather was just incredible, so we spent the day playing and talking in the back yard. Got some take out for lunch. Which after eating, the girls threw the empty hoagie containers and water bottles all over the yard. Gave the place that touch of Appalachia look. Real nice.

The girls started out dressed. Then D1 decided her ba ba's (yes, that's what she calls her nipples, sorry I'm not big on using the proper terminology for body parts. Please, it's the least of my problems) hurt her. So she took off her shirt. Convinced her Mimi that she needed band aid's for them. Or as she calls them, bam bams. Mimi wasn't getting the bam bam's fast enough, so D1 starts crying loudly, "I need bam bams for my boo boo's on my ba ba's! PLEAASSSEEE!" Try saying that three times fast. Mimi has bright green bam bams, which she places over each of D1's nipples. Looks sort of like, well, you know what it looks like, I don't have to say. I then chase her around for a few minutes, trying to get her shirt back on her, all the while thinking, please god don't let the neighbors see this!

About a half hour passes with both girls fully clothed. Then D1 takes off her skirt and panties. "Mama ! I have to pee!" "Ok, D1, lets go inside" "No Mama, I pee in bushes!" And so I chase her around the yard, telling her that we don't need to pee in bushes because we have a potty right inside. She escapes me and crawls under her Little Tikes Play structure and sits, not squats, and starts to pee. I'm screaming, "squat! squat!" She actually gets it, and at least doesn't pee all over her self. Before she crawls out she also takes off her shirt. I then have to chase my completely naked 3 year old around the yard to get her dressed. Completely naked except for the bam bam's.

I wonder how many neighbors saw us, and if they are notifying the HOA of these interlopers that have pushed their way into their fine neighborhood.