Throw Back Thursday and Tiny Stormtroopers

Halloween is nigh, my friends, and it seems we have chosen Star Wars as the theme.

Huh. Like I couldn’t have seen that coming.

This year, sweet Red, who has been Luke Skywalker for the past few years, has chosen Darth Vader. My son has chosen the Dark Side. I know. I could read a lot into this but really? I’ve seen him in his Darth costume and it is fer SURE adorable. You can’t be full on Dark Side AND be cute at the same time, so that saves it.

Here is a throw-back from a two years back:

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This post was sponsored by:

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And:

GUILT.

This should be fun! So let’s get started.

Ok, one of my favorite scenes from Star Wars was when Harrison Ford has that cute conversation with the dude on the intercom. I love it because he is SOOOOO cute! The cuteness! The cute swagger! And he fits in his Storm Trooper outfit really well!

Yes, little ones, I am referring to the real Star Wars. The one that I watched in Glenwood Theater in Overland Park, Kansas in 1977. I was 8. Harrison Ford was a bit too old for me. I had feathered bangs, and Glenwood Theater had a chandelier, people. And velvet seats. And a deep red curtain that opened before each showing. It was an EXPERIENCE, y’all.

The other reason I love that scene is that I kinda feel like Han did in that controller room all the time. Sorta, erm, on the edge a bit and also: TOTALLY FAKING IT ALL THE TIME.

So here’s an update on my week:

The gigantic box from Netflix? Remember that?

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Well, it was just a tv. No biggie. Just a gigantic tv. Because, you know, I’M AWESOME.

Here is how my family reacted to this:

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Husband is blurry because I was giggling.

Ok, also: we had Halloween. So we have ONE picture of ONE child. I don’t know why. Just ONE child evidently was photogenic enough (barely, you’ll see) for me to point and click at him.

Here you go:

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Riiiiiight. I know. You can’t see him. Someday I am totally going to get fired for lousy photography. But, also…

(Wait for it…)

“Aren’t you a little short for a storm trooper?”

BOOM. I have been waiting my whole LIFE to be able to channel my inner Leia and say that! And now I can! With a blurry, dark photo of my cute, and short, son!

Oh, and by the way:

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WE WON THE WORLD SERIES. There is such goodness about this I can’t even use words. Well, no, I CAN use words, but they just won’t really do it justice. It is wonderfulness. It is nail biting games and extra innings and Salvie messing with us whenever he talks and stealing home and just a sprinkling of Paul Rudd, for flavor.

Oops, used words. Sorry. Can’t help it.

By now, I bet you’re wondering… where does the guilt part come in?

Well, and also:

I abandoned my child. I KNOW. This post took a rather abrupt turn, didn’t it? We were all happy and celebrating holidays and big screen tv’s and then, WHAMMO.

That’s called a plot twist.

Here’s the deal. My sweet Red, who is wonderful and adorable in every way, is also, well, how should I put this:

Slow. He’s just really slow. He likes to do things slowly. All the things. Eating. Pooping. Walking. It’s all slow.

This totally doesn’t bother me at all.

So, this morning, for some reason, Red really really had a rough time with some basics: I told him to get dressed and I found him, in his underpants, staring out the front door at the sky as if he were contemplating his life choices for his long five years.

Socks. Same problem. Found him upstairs in the train room, just standing there. It was creepy.

Brushing teeth? I don’t even think we got there because we were still stuck at socks. Poor teachers.

Anyhow, finally, I snapped. I uttered these fateful words:

“Red. We are leaving. You have one minute. If you are not ready to go then Blonde and I will have to LEAVE WITHOUT YOU.”

And. Well. To cut the suspense, I’ll just tell you. He got left. We left him. I LEFT him. I took Blonde, grabbed the dog, and walked AWAY FROM MY BABY.

And then, he proceeded to lose his #@!.

But I think he did hurry up a little. He made it to a block from school and I spotted him. He was sobbing and all the mothers of the entire town were surrounding him. I think a few cars had pulled over. Police helicopters were circling overhead and Fox News had been called.

I walked up and said, “He’s fine.” Not the best thing to say. I then explained (because he was NOT fine, but he was “learning a lesson” from his “evil mother” who had to “not relapse because of this morning” and needed to, no matter what, “stick by her words no matter how much it was gonna freak her and the entire community OUT.”)

I explained the situation, and Red headed off, with me behind him. One mom gave me a sympathetic smile, but I swear another one has decided to shadow my house now.

Sigh. I know. All of this kinda puts a pall over the new tv.

Mommies. I’m doing the best I can. We had done the morning dawdle routine just one too many times. I decided to stick to my guns. I just didn’t expect this:

He broke my heart. Seeing him here, all sobbing and sad. I just don’t know. The kid learned a lesson but I did too. If I am going to leave my kid to fend for himself I need to figure out a way to do it with in air surveillance and nerves of steel. As I have neither of these things I am going to try out one of two options:

  1. Get the kid up at 5 am so he will be on time.
  2. Just carry him everywhere.

And that was my morning.

Everything’s fine here. And… How are YOU?

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Spring Break. And Netflix. Thank Goodness.

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So, we decided to to the Staycation at our house this spring break. For various reasons.

Reasons like:

  1. We’re broke.
  2. Also, we’re tired.
  3. And a little boring.

 

So, home, guys! HOME! It’s just LIKE the beach except no annoying sand! Or water! And I don’t have to slather you with lotion, so bonus!

One of my children informed me that HIS friend got to go to Royals Spring Training over spring break, and I informed him right back that that was impossible. Royals Spring Training is a mythical place, like where the Easter Bunny and Santa live. Also Disney. We can leave out a plate of pine tar and maybe some bubble gum, and maybe the Royals will be here with another World Series win soon.

So it’s all Staycation at Momsie’s house. It’s like we’re our own Sandals resort except… no it’s not that at all and I’m gonna stop now.

Besides, as I have told my children, when I grew up Spring Break was just about doing a lot more chores and helping dad till the garden. They both just blinked rapidly at that one and backed away.

Ok, so on our Fabulous Staycation we:

  1. The zoo. Everyone was tired. There was a lot of lolling about. The flamingos were pale. It was that kinda day.
  2. Bowling. It was dollar lanes on Tuesdays! I watched my wee sons hurl bowling balls for two hours with zero accuracy! It was awesome!
  3. Random jumping on trampolines at other people’s houses. Sometimes the houses were occupied. Other times not so much. We have not been arrested yet.
  4. Tomorrow we’re going to do some sort of golf thing that’s all neon and dark and has an arcade. I don’t know. It was my friend’s idea. I am not sure there is enough Exedrin to prepare for this, so I can’t write about it here. Shhhh. We won’t speak of it anymore. It’s the Fun Kid Thing that Cannot be Named.
  5. Another zoo on Friday cuz I get to see a friend I haven’t seen in a majillion years. Therefore, totally worth it. Maybe the animals will have figured out they’re on spring break and be up and about. Partying. Like animals.

Ok, amidst all this frivolity, we have hit mid week of Epic Spring Breakapalooza 2016 around here.

This is about when the enthusiasm wanes a bit and we all start to hate each other.

And for that I have a great remedy:

TELEVISON. TELEVISION FIXES EVERYTHING.

Don’t judge. We don’t judge here, at Momsie, right? I am just being honest and you KNOW there have been times when you too have foisted television on tired children because their brains can’t handle anymore spooning animals. At some point in the day, television, administered with the loving grace of a tired momma, is here to SAVE THE FLIPPING DAY BECAUSE PEOPLE I HAVE TO WRITE SOMETIME.

This entire BLOG is fueled by television and caffeine, my friends. So you can thank the mighty Netflixes for the Pulitzer material you have here, ok?

Our new favorite? ANYTHING Lego. We have officially been bit by the Lego bug. So, lately, the boys have been watching this:

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You know why I love this, right? It has no dialogue. Just music and an occasional siren. It’s kind of soothing, like watching a fireplace, just with good guys and bad guys and jail time.

Also: totally educational. Teaches my kids how to obey the law or they’ll end up in the slammer. Very important.

Then,there’s also this:

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Ok, I have to admit, I fought this one. You know –  Swords! Fighting! Flying dragons! Special powers! It all seemed so… NOT Curious George.*

Y’all, my boys do still watch Curious George. Occasionally I can even slip a Thomas the Train in there too. But, I have to accept that they like swords and stuff. They are five and seven years old, and yesterday they tried to make a sword out of a foam finger. Which was rather comical.

Now, you wonder: which came first? The chicken (my boys) or the egg (Ninjago)? Did I fuel this nuttiness? Or did it just come about on its own?

I don’t know. That’s why there is an entire wall of parenting books in my home. I don’t have time to read them right now, but I’ll get back to you on that.

So, I mutter the Serenity prayer, and my boys watch the good guys battle the bad guys, and good girls too – Nya rocks it:

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This is Nya.Notice the spunk. Also, cute red outfit and great hair. I kind of want to be her. But seriously, if I attempted that haircut you know I would just end up looking like:

This:

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But I digress.

So, after an episode of this Ninjago business, my boys promptly run upstairs and find their foam swords that I bought them and start whacking each other. This lasts for at least an hour.

So, also: Totally educational. They’re learning about other cultures. Also: Sword play is a great aerobic exercise, y’all. Healthy.

Oh friends. If I could keep them at Thomas the Train, I would. But since Caillou was also another of their favorites at that time, I will have to say, let’s move on from the whiny bald kid, and learn how to do a ninja tuck and roll into the kitchen when I call you for lunch. It is impressive and has lots of flair. Caillou couldn’t do that.

That is the barometer around here: Essentially, if it can kick Caillou’s bum, we are all for it.

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* Netflix ALSO has ALL the awesome PBS kids show you love: Curious George, Thomas the Train, Martha Speaks… Word Girl (LOVE her!) And yes, Caillou. He’s there too. The weirdo.

 

 

Tiny Humans.

So, I don’t want to write today. I don’t. I have a living room that has decided its decor theme is “Random Piles and Despair” and I have a cold, and there’s that last episode of the Great British Bake Off that is just yearning to be cuddled up to. Oh, and these. I have a bag of these:

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if I’m going to watch a bunch of Brits make the most tantalizing desserts this side of Great Ben, I might as well pair it with nature’s candy. Corn syrup and red dye #40. What’s not to love?

So, in lieu of writing something fantastic and utterly life-changing for you, my dear readers, I will instead relate the latest from my children.

I like to call this:

Backseat Conversations with Two Small Children.
Or:

Driving Miss Crazy.

Blonde: We need to buckle up.

Red: Yes.

(Bear with me. It gets better.)

Red: I’m all buckled.

Blonde: Yes.

(Well. Sorry. I know. It’s been a slow week.)

Red: Fork is da strongest guy out there?

Blonde: What?

Red: Yep. Da strongest. He has his hammer, you know.

Blonde: Wat?

Red: And then WHAM! He just has to, you know, like HAMMER at the things! All the things! And they do it!

Blonde: What do it?

Red: The things! All of them! Except Spiderman. He has a web. Webs are stronger than hammers.

Blonde: THOR.

Red: No, Spiderman.

Momsie: I think he meant- (and then I stop myself. Because this is better entertainment than I have had in a while. And yes, I know, that statement right there pretty much sums up the level of funtastic at my house.)

Red: Webs are SUPER STRONG. And there is the flying!

Blonde: His web only can shoot out two feet. I know.

Red: Yes, he CAN. He can too fly. But you’re right. Only two feet.

Blonde: THOR. T-H-O-R. It’s THORRRRR.

Red: Four what? (Could also be “for” – we will never really know. But I am gonna hazard a guess that it truly DOES NOT MATTER.)

Blonde: THOR!

Red: I KNOW! And his hammer. He’s the best A- … Av-… What is he?

Blonde: He is a super hero. He’s with Captain Merica. A plunger.

Red: Captain Merica is just from here. He is not from a whole nother planet. If you come from another planet then you are way cooler.

Momsie: Thor. He an Avenger. And he is really cute.

Both: …

Red: He is not cute. He is not. HE HAS.  A HAMMER.

Blonde: CHRISTMAS LIGHTS!

(“Scuze me. Sorry. Let me just quickly interject to tell you we’re passing a store with an “Open” sign that is lit up. That’s all. Now you may go back to reading this post.)

Red: Yep. Der they are!

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The end.

I know. It’s not an episode of Seinfeld, but it’s all I’ve got. So, let me also leave you with a picture of a Corgi dressed up like Thor. Because the internet:

funny-dog-dressed-up-costume-corgi-thorgi-picsBut wait! There’s more. I am gonna offer you this bit of knowledge:

Cars are the best way to really listen to your kids. They will ask you questions and talk to you about stuff in the car when they won’t elsewhere. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because there is no eye contact. Maybe because there is all that stuff going on outside the windows and it can make the stuff you’re talking about seem not quite so FULL of stuff.

Containment is key. They are strapped in. They cannot escape. We can end up talking about deep things – things like why we need to be nice to that one kid that keeps saying all the bad words at school and shoves a lot, and why mommy and daddy need to go out on a date tonight, and why mommy goes to meetings on Sunday nights.

And why the Royals are the most wonderful team ever in existence of the whole world forever and ever, amen.

But NOT IN THIS POST. No sirree!

No deep stuff today. Just Fork’s Hammer!

Gotcha.

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Royals, We are Watching You.

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Famous moments in sports history:

  • The USA believes in miracles and beats the Russians in the Olympics.
  • We totally tick off Hitler with Jesse Owens.
  • Lou Gehrig brings us to tears with his “Luckiest Man” speech.
  • Pretty much anything that Michael Jordan on the court.  Also: Space Jam.
  • I am completely addicted to Royals baseball.

For those of you who know me, you are aware of a few things about how sports and I get along:

In the past, I only participated in track. Why? Track has very little equipment. Equipment meant falling over or getting hit by things. I don’t like that. I’ve never really been the same since the killer tether ball incident of 1977.

But lately, I have fallen rather in love with this little team of ours, The Kansas City Royals. Surely, you have heard of them?

Ok, Boys in Blue, here’s the thing:

I have watched you, surrounded by two small squirmy boys, for at least six years now. I got roped into this action because I married a total sports nutball. This is the beauty of marriage.

My boys have grown up with you, and they watch your behavior. Your passion. They watch how much fun you are having.

They are learning from you.

I thank you for bringing my family together and making us a team, watching your team. It is magical. Win or lose, we are yours. I don’t care if you go into the next game and lose all feeling in your extremities and thus play like my boys’ tball team circa 2014.

(Ok, that’s not true. I care. Just a little bit. A skotch. A teensy bit.)

Oh, and Eric, did you know? We named our dog after you. He’s scruffy, the great and mighty Hoz. The name fits him. He plays outfield rather well, but we’re still trying to teach him about not peeing on the bases. This seems to not a problem for your team. Yet another reason why we love you guys!

You just go ahead and do what you do best: play your heart out, and we will watch with glee. We’ll holler for Hosmer’s starter-mullet, and that every pitcher on the planet wants to try and walk Lo Cain. They can’t help it – he’s scary that way. We will soak up the relentless artistry that is Cueto’s pitching. Oh, and we will wait with Julianna Zobrist and plan baby names (Homer, of course).

And we will pray for Volquez. We are all praying for Volquez.

Thank you.

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We are Forever Royal.

Baseball has been very good to me.

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It seems lately baseball has been kinda a thing around here.

Wanna know why?

(drumroll…)

WE ARE IN THE WORLD SERIES, YA’LL.

By “we” I mean MY team – The Royals.

 

I am in no way a sports person. I claim this early in the post, unless you start thinking I am going to be able to provide batting averages or any other sort of technical talk about the team. I cannot, alas. But I can comment on a few other things, like how I think this video is the cutest thing I have ever seen. And how I really think the pitcher for that other team could benefit from a hair cut. That’s as good as it gets.

But still, I really do love baseball.

Here’s why.

TOP TEN REASONS WHY BASEBALL HAS BEEN GOOD TO ME:

1. As a kid, tired and dirty, coming home from our farm, we would listen to the game. Fred White was on the radio. I would slide around the back of the station wagon, sticking to the vinyls seats, no seat belt and look out the window and be lulled by the sounds of the game. We were all quiet. Tired. It is a sound from my childhood.

2. Attending a game means cotton candy. If we attend we must have cotton candy.  It’s the law.  And yes, I realize it is air with sugar attached but it doesn’t matter. I love it. I got to introduce my boys to it when they attended their first Royals game this summer. The look on their faces was priceless, like I had been holding out on them all this time…

3. My boys’ first game. It rained the entire time. We had to leave finally, but not after we had become so wet my fingers were pruney. We ran to the car with puddles the size of the Grand Canyon. Somehow we survived, but for a minute there it felt like we were in our own Die Hard At the Royals Game movie. Awwwwsome.

4. And as for that first game – I can’t explain it. Watching the hubs lead the boys to their seats and show them the score card, like his mom did for him all those years ago… the hubs was in soggy, rain drenched heaven.  Made my heart smile.

5. Oh, and this picture:

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6. Watching my boys play IN a game. The first time Blonde got a hit at practice, he ran out and fielded the ball for the coach. Then ran to first. Very thorough.

7. Sitting with the other parents, watching the awesomeness that is toddler baseball, and just feeling joy. Simple, in-place, seated JOY.

8.  Did I mention we were in the World Series? Every game, we sit and watch the television together, and my boys scream (often at totally wrong moments, but still, they’re trying) and we watch. Together.

9.  And we eat hotdogs. You had to know that two of these numbers had to be dedicated to food, right? Hebrew National, you had me at hello.

10.  There are no teams with black uniforms. This stems from a particularly traumatizing football game against the Raiders where blonde decided to start shouting, “Get da black guys!  I don’t like the black guys! GET THEMMMMM!!!” This was unfortunate and so impossibly bad that my way of fixing it was simply to walk out of the room. Parenting win!

 

And so, I love baseball.  And if blonde’s fervor for the sport is any indication, I will be attending quite a few more games in my future, so loving it is good.  I am hoping he will get past hitting AND fielding his own balls at some point.

I am pairing up with Netflix Streamteam today to share two of my favorite baseball documentaries of all time:

 

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And:

 

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Both are excellent viewing!  Ken Burn’s documentary has numerous celebrity interviews weighing  in on how much they too love the game, and lots of history and rich background.

The Battered film (saucy language in the title and all) is my favorite, though. These guys are the real “Bad News Bears,” and their story is simply amazing. And rather hilarious.

I love them both so much they are on “repeat” in our Netflix cue. Along with eighteen million Thomas the Train episodes. What can I say? In this family, we like trains or baseball.  One-track minds. (Get it? YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE? PUNDERFUL!!)

 

As for tonight? I will be watching a little game called: GAME THREE. WOOP!

 

GO ROYALS!

 

MLB: ALCS-Baltimore Orioles at Kansas City Royals

 

 

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