Back to School: the High School Years. Reality Hits You Hard, Bro.

First day of school is in the books.  Some mild complaining about schedules and how everyone in the entire world who is worth knowing is in the same fun class with the best teacher in the entire universe, who is actually a stand up comedian that just teaches because he/she got tired of being famous - EXCEPT for my kids, who of course ended up in classes taught by Satan's 8th grade math teacher in rooms where each seat taken by one of their nemesēs from the last 5 years and they have to sit next to the talkiest, lamest, smelliest one that they hate the most, but have to endure because mom taught them to be nice, even to people who make their heads want to explode. Ah, the cruelty of high school.

Apparently it was all too much as everyone was in bed before 10 pm tonight.  Last time this happened?  About 3 months ago.  Feels good to be back on schedule again, dealing with real world problems...like schedule changes and 8000 parent signatures and smelly gym clothes.

Easter in a Boymom House

This is what we did when we got home from a wonderfully, uplifting morning at church today:



What is it?  A bitten-in-half Peep.  

My oldest is not a Peeps fan.  Nobody in my house is, but Little Man insisted on having some in his basket this year.  So Big Brother decided to try one again.  He bit into it and immediately spit it out onto the plate.  

His response to the blue, sugary covered blob of squishy stuff?  "Gross.  I just ate Bird Butt."      

Cue hysterical laughter and frantic search for cellphone so I could post this on my blog. 

Happy Easter!

Reconnaissance or Bad Landing?

As a Boymom, there are things I see in my home that I don't think Girlmoms see very often, if at all.  Like this:

It's a toy paratrooper.  Hanging out of one of my kitchen drawers.  I happened to catch him out of the corner of my eye as I was grabbing my purse this morning.  He kind of caught me off guard.  It's not something I expected to see at 8 a.m. in the morning. 

So I immediately did what any other good Boymom would do and started talking to the guy.  "Hey Dude!  How long have you been hanging here?  Let's see if we can get you untangled and to a more stable location, away from enemy fire."  As I was talking I noticed Blackie Chan the Ninja Cat staring at me.  I couldn't tell if he thought I was talking to him or if he was mad that I was removing a potential play toy from his path.  Either way, he looked disgusted with me. 

I started to open the drawer to remove the guy, then didn't.  I know.  I KNOW!!  How could I leave that poor paratrooper just hanging there, waiting to be attacked? Well...because it occured to me that this guy might be there because someone wanted him there.  He might be part of an elaborately strategized battle plan that I know nothing about and by removing him, I might sway the entire outcome of this war reinactment.  I didn't want to be responsible for that. 

I've done that before, you know.  Ruined an entire 2 weeks of planning and staging, along with the outcome of a major battle because I moved 1 army guy from his post on the bathroom counter to the top of a dresser.  It was utter chaos for 15 minutes while everyone had to adjust strategies and move guys around to compensate for mom's lack of military training and knowledge. It was a big "Duh, Mom" moment that I don't care to repeat. 

After almost 12 years of raising boys, I've learned my lesson:  Leave the army guys where you find them. 

Sad for Paratrooper Man, but safe for Boymom.

Bad Hair Day

There's a reason I have boys. God knew that while I like beautiful things and can be quite feminine when I want to be, I'm not a girly girl. So he sent me little dudes who are interested in building stuff and digging holes.  Which is good.  Because I am not always interested in dressing up and looking fantastically model-esque everyday, so I'm not sure I would be the best role model for a little girly who loves to shop and wear frilly things and put on makeup.  Ya know? 

And while I do enjoy a little pampering once in awhile? Sitting around while my kids style my hair is not my thing. It's not my boys' thing either. They barely wanna comb their own hair, let alone someone else's! 

Apparently though, it is something lots of little girls like to do. And I found out the hard way that little girls don't always understand the intricacies of using a comb...(shout out to my neighbor's daughter, Ava and her mad stylist skills)

I have no idea how she got my hair so wrapped up in that evil device, I just know it took me about 20 minutes to get it loose from my scalp.

Note to self: Ava needs a doll to play with when she comes to the house. One with long, pretty hair.

Like Mother, Like Son...

Remember the Toe post?  I do.  Because it was my toe.  You should take a minute to read it.  It is absolutely hilarious.  Despite the fact that it happened to me.

Why do I bring this up?  Because my little guy recently suffered a like injury.

Only unlike his numbskull father, I did not run boiling hot lava water over his toe in an attempt to cauterize the wound.  I calmly cut away the torn skin and remnants of his toenail while he flailed and screamed and acted as if I were amputating his entire leg.  All this from my normally tough guy who takes injuries with a grain of salt and moves on to the next challenge.  Seriously?  You would have thought I was using a rusty saw to remove his last limb the way he went on and on and on.  I have no doubt it hurt, but the reaction was waaaaay over the top, even for a drama prone kid, which Little Man is NOT!

When I finally asked him what all the drama was for?  He stopped crying for a moment, looked at me with his huge brown, tear-filled eyes and said..."I was afraid you wouldn't be here and I didn't know who would take care of my toe."  Ouch.  I know!  Dagger through the heart moment, right?

What I can't figure out is why he thought I wouldn't be here for him.  I was home when he left to go outside to play, did he think I would get in the car and leave while he was gone?  Does he not know that I spend every waking hour worrying and thinking about him and praying for his well-being and happiness?  Does he not realize that the worst nightmares I have involve me not being able to get to my children to help them when they are in the most desperate of circumstances?   How could he think I would just go away? 

I guess he had an irrational moment.  Just like his mama does when, on occasion, out of the blue I imagine something horrific happening to my family.  Have you ever had that happen?  I hate that!     

Now, there might come a day when he hopes I'm not home when he walks in the door.  And if he hopes that because he is being accompanied by the police for some idiotic prank he pulled,  then I would say for his sake he'd better hope pretty dang hard that his father answers the door.  But until that day comes, I hope he knows that there is nothing that would get in the way of making sure I am here for my boys whenever they need me.  Why?  I Am Boymom.  It's what I do.  

My 1st Blogoversary!!

One year ago yesterday I started this blog as a way to vent, to archive family events, a way to keep my sanity. It has literally changed my life. Who would have thought that I would meet so many people and have so many wonderful opportunities just by taking a few minutes every so often to share a bit about my life?!

If I'm absolutely honest, in the beginning I was kind of hoping that blogging would cure me of all of my "issues." You know, the daily vent or laugh or cry would just clear out all of the crap and I would be a NEW WOMAN a year or so later! Pretty unrealistic, but typical of my thought patterns lately. I blame my naievete on hormones and lack of housecleaning skills, both of which keep me in a dither a good part of the day.

But while blogging hasn't cured all my ills, it has definitely been cathartic. Writing has helped me step out of my box of problems once in awhile so I could start experiencing life again. So that's a good thing, yeah? Creating I Am Boymom has helped me connect with other folks out in the blogosphere who encourage me to put myself out there and who continually cut me some slack for being behind the curve in the not only the world of technology, but in the world of being organized and functional. They get me. And even if they don't, they accept me where I am at. Which is so...cool. And reassuring.

Sorry - didn't mean to get all weird and emotional, it's just that thinking about all of this...the WHOLE blog experience, makes me get all, you know...wonky.

And now, a year later, my blog is kind of morphing into something that requires me to put some thought into how I want to go forward! So, in honor of my blogoversary, I would love to get some input from my readers. What do you enjoy when you stop by? What would you like to see more or less of when you spend a few of your precious spare moments here? Can I have a review blog and Boymom blog together or does the commercial aspect of promoting products leave you feeling like I Am Boymom has become an infomercial? Or do you even care?

'Cause I'm all about makin' this a group experience. If it ain't fun for you, it ain't fun for me. So be honest! Tell me how you feel!

And then stay tuned for information on my After Blogoversary Party, which will be sometime next week, because I am always running behind! Most of you already know that about me. I promise it will be worth the wait. We'll have fun and there will be prizes!

Until then...it's been a great year. Thanks for the support.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving!

Do you have one of those people in your life that always gives you a Christmas gift even though you don't know them that well and you really don't even like them? Then you feel like you have to give them something in return, even though you weren't planning on it? Do they always give you the gift like a day and a half before Christmas, forcing you to make a last minute trip to overcrowded stores, to fight crowded parking lots and empty shelves, all to purchase something generic and cheap, but not cheap looking, because you don't know them well enough to make an educated guess about what they might like? I personally have never done this nor do I have ANYONE like that in my life, but if I did, I might give them this. Because nothing says, "Quit giving me stuff and go away" like Arm Flap Tape. Try giving it to the gift giving nuisance on your list this year and then let me know how it works out. Maybe I'll try it next year. As a gift, I mean, not on my arms. Not that my arms couldn't use it. I'm just not ready to go there yet. I've only sunk low enough to suggest giving it, not actually using it.

On another note, I am shocked and amazed that someone actually thought of this product. And mostly jealous, because hello? How many millions is this genius raking in because he/she thought to use Ninjatape to hold up fat and skin? And after this post, Inventor Man should send me some cash as a thank you gesture, because I am pretty sure that sales will shoot up tremendously after people read this and purchase Arm Flap Tape (excuse me...Slim Tape) galore to eliminate unwanted realtionships in their lives. I'm just sayin'...it would be a nice gesture.