Here we go...

This week the Bug has found her...I can not find the words...give me a second...I will say whatever I want so I can hurt you because you are my mother voice, for lack of a better term. I have been preparing myself for this, but yeah...

On Wednesday night she put my dining room chair through the plasma television. Since she can't move the couch or chair in the living room she uses a dining room chair when she is playing the Wii.

Me: "I have told you a thousand times to stop making the chair rock. Now stop before you break your arm, or worse the chair."

Bug: "Funny, mom."

Me: "I do not have the money to replace it when you break it! I'm not trying to be funny!"

Bug: "The table has scratches on it anyway. A new one would be good."

This does not phase me. She is typically a smart @$$. (ha! Like my mother can't figure symbols out. It makes me feel more respectful, don't judge!)

Me: "Stop it or you can sit on the floor!"

I will warp us to 2 hours later in the evening. A hysterical Bug comes in my room crying the chair finally fell over and through the TV. I politely ask her to go to her room. I then call her dad and inform him in a raving lunatic rage that I am going to kill her. He says that even though a deduction in child support payments would be nice, he can't allow this and somewhat calms me down.

The next night I give her her sentence and she completely loses it. I mean full blown crazy. I will just do a nutshell version for you.

Bug: "I AM A GOOD KID! I NEVER GET IN TROUBLE! I ALWAYS LISTEN TO WHAT YOU SAY! I HATE YOU!"

The last part throws me but I do not let her know this...

Me: "Good. It means I'm doing my job right."

Bug: "I WILL DO EVERY CHORE ON THE LIST THEN I'M GOING TO LIVE WITH DAD!"

Me: "No you're not."

Bug: "THEN I WILL RUN AWAY!"

Me: "Can you fold a load of clothes first?" (Sidenote: I slept with my bedroom door locked and haven't decided if I will be getting rid of the kitchen knives or not.)

She runs up to her room, slamming her door and proceeds to makes sounds resembling a howling dog until she falls asleep. I call my mother and apologized for every hateful thing I said to her when I was a kid.

In her defense she did come to me the next day and apologize saying she didn't mean it. I accepted and told her she is most certainly allowed to hate me, it will be natural over the next few years, but the next time she says it out loud she will be grounded until Hannah Montana (c'mon I had to use a reference she would understand, there you go judging again!) had grandchildren.

Conversation over dinner...

I made spaghetti and meatballs tonight and I DIDN'T MESS ANYTHING UP! GO ME! Alright, on to the real story...let me set the scene...

I have finished eating and while the kids are finishing up, I'm wiping things down, putting things away...yadda, yadda, yadda...as I'm throwing something in the garbage can the entire trash bag folds into itself and falls to the bottom of the can. I say to the kids...

"The next time I buy trash bags that aren't Grippers (much love to the Hefty inventor of this product!), slap me! Well, unless we are poor." (some weeks we struggle more than others...sigh)

The bug pipes in "Wait, if we aren't poor...why are we eating spaghetti?"

I just look at her.

The grumpy teen answers "Ummm...normal people eat cooked meals all the time. Normal people do not eat McDonalds four nights a week."

I just look at him.

After deciding not to throw meatballs in their eyes and start a massive food fight (because I would have to clean it up, otherwise "It's on like Donkey Kong" comes to mind), while shouting "NORMAL KIDS WOULD NOT COMPLAIN ABOUT EATING MCDONALDS!!" (where did I go wrong), I shake my head and go load the dishwasher.

I will now add teach the kid the value of a dollar to my To-Do list and try not to dwell on the possibility they were both switched at birth...

Nightmares and fluffy beds..

I woke up at 3:30 am. Another nightmare. They seem to be getting worse. I was myself but also watching myself. It was like I knew in my dream I was dreaming. The thing is above me, but I'm not afraid as I usually am. I am trying to kick and scream and fight back, but failing miserably because the kicks are in slooooooooooooow motion and the screams sound like when I was a kid trying to see if a friend could understand me underwater at the pool. When I was awake enough to realize the ceiling fan wasn't trying to send me Morse code messages (no I do not use drugs) and that Tucker was only making his normal grumpy old dog noises and not warning me of a ghost outside my bedroom door (not even over the counter drugs), I decided it was probably not a good idea to wake my mother up at that hour. The Bug did get to come sleep with me though. It had nothing to do with me thinking my 11 year old could scare away the bad stuff and everything to do with I thought she would love to sleep in the "its fluffier than mine" bed. That's my story and I'm sticking to it...

Pucker up, Baby!

Haven't felt like blogging lately. Things have been crazy around here, but instead of wanting to pull my hair out, I have had other done-up manes in mind. It is in my experience that one should lay low when in these moods. However, I have found a reason to come out of hiding. Sitting in the pedicure chair last week (wait until that blog...yeah), I was flipping through a magazine when I came upon this little nugget of creamy lip goodness! I will be honest here and say that it was the whole egg concept that made me become scavenger like in my search for one. You see...I am a package person. An advertisers dream. I once bought what I thought was Windex because they put it in a new clear container, with clear liquid, and pretty new words. It was so pretty I didn't even read the words which read something along the lines of Tilex Fresh Shower Daily Cleaner. Ummm, I have to make myself clean my shower once a week. I think not, on the once a day crap. Anyway, back on track...The egg balm! They call it a sphere. I will not conform, it will be known across the world (or at least my little world) as EGG balm! I like the shape for one other reason...it is much easier to find while digging at the bottom of my purse, unlike the traditional chapsticks. It comes in two flavors: Sweet Mint and Summer Fruit. I, of course, loving all things summer bought the latter for myself and Sweet Mint for the Bug. I think I won a few cool mom points, even though while applying you look like you might be practicing the application of clown lipstick. It is a must try, folks. You will not be disappointed.

Wanna Be Rock STARS....

I CAN NOT STOP PLAYING THE ROCK BAND! (Wii version) I get that microphone in my hand and I become obsessed! The grouchy teen plays drums and The Bug switches between guitar and bass. I, of course, am lead vocals AND backup vocals!! I can not decide if I want to be Freddie Mercury or Paul McCartney. You'd think this would be an easy choice seeing as how one had panties thrown at him, while the other probably wore panties, but I tell ya, Mr. Freddie knew how to belt one out! The Bug got a little peeved when she wanted to have her turn at singing but I insisted that there was room for only one star in a band! We have come to an agreement that for two hours on Sundays we switch roles, for even a ROCK STAR must teach her children to share!

I bid you all a good night as I rest my voice and plot how to convince the band mates that they do not need to sit beside me (they claim they need to see the notes on the TV...pfft) that REAL drummers and guitarists play BEHIND the singer. Sleep well, folks!

Rights of Passage...

My children. Him 16, Her 11. Ohhh, the bickering I must endure. I think a gift I have been given is that I remember being a child, so I tend to understand what my two are feeling or going through most of the time and I never, ever forget that it is their right of passage to go through these things. So, I allow them to bicker. I do so with the age old trick parents inherit...tuning out, yet still being slightly aware. Examples: Reading a book while they are bouncing a ball through the living room, picking up your tea glass before said ball knocks it over while never missing a sentence in said book. Or, video game being played so loud the dog has his paws over his ears but the only thing you hear because you are cooking dinner is the $50 controller hitting the ground because the controller's operator died to the monster.

"Would you like to get a job, operator of the controller? No? Then have some respect!" I say this with my mean mother face! I secretly love making that face (it is "my" right of passage)!

My point being, I allow them to bicker with a few ground rules and my age old parenting trick always working. I sometimes even play along. Yes. I do! Don't judge me!!

I mean who can resist:

"Something smells!" one of the children say.

"Your face smells!" loving mother replies.

It truly makes me giggle!

However, there are a few classics that just don't work:

"Mom, you are the weirdest!" the 16 year old says.

"Your momma!" I reply stopping in mid stroll because I realize what I have just said!

Hysterical laughter from both children begin.

"See." he can barely get out from laughing so hard.

I refrain from mumbling crap to myself on my way to my room because at least for one tiny moment the bickering has seized while they join forces to make fun of their mother.

Oh Christmas Tree...

I wasn't going to blog about my holiday weekend because the grouchy teen and I had a big showdown on Thanksgiving day that ended with us spending our day in separate venues. The showdown involved the typical mother versus teen scenario. I am apparently unreasonable and he is of course selfish. It is a fight as old as time itself, I am sure. However, on very rare, I'm talking when pigs fly and the moon is blue occasions, it just happens....

We put up the tree every year on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. This year was no different except for Bug Juice had a birthday party to attend which involved swimming in the middle of November (heated pool at the Y...no I am not an entirely negligent parent!) so she couldn't leave us to deal with the tree fast enough. With a tree ready to be trimmed, the grouchy teen and I spent one of the most perfect evenings doing so. We started with the many, many, many lights I bought. This was quite and ordeal I assure you. Something about making sure all the plugs are in the right order so that it will plug up with the next strand can be mind boggling, but with a little laughing and maybe a few (close your eyes on this part, mom) under the breath profanities we managed. We then did the garland and finally the best part...THE ORNAMENTS!!

"This one is 19 years-old, mom!!" he says as if it was from the days of dinosaurs walking the earth.

It was the one of a penguin driving a convertible and was given to me by one of my favorite people to commemorate the year I turned sixteen. There is also the one from the year before of a mouse on a bird with a sign that says "flying South" because she knew how much I loved going home to Georgia and the one from the year after of the volleyball-playing moose. I wonder if she knows how much we think of her at Christmas when we pull these out of the ornament box.

I would also like to take a moment here to thank Hallmark for putting the year of the ornament for all grouchy teens to see and for giving them yet another moment to tease their mothers.

It was a special night that he and I got to share together and it makes all the parent/teen battles vanish into then air when these kind of times happen.

From Sweet Chunky Bumblebees to Monsters...

She once was a lion. I remember one time her dad and I worked for an entire week on her costume. She was a traffic light. She lit up and everything! We made it out of a giant box and she would tip over with her little feet kicking in the air. Oh, how I would laugh while she would look at me in disbelief. Ahahaha...even then the cliche mother/daughter relationship had begun! There were princesses and fairies and even a witch one year. Though it was the cutest witch...with the striped little tights!

"No, mom! I want to be scary this year! No more bumblebees and my hair being curled!" she says to me. I look at her and think where did my baby go....

"But you are so adorable! One more year!" I plead.

"Nope. I want to be the monster from the movie The Ring. Dad told me how I can do my hair like hers and it will be really cool!" she says. Her mind made up.

Uuuuuuggghhh that man. Sometimes I would like to sick a monster on him! I type that with much fondness but I am rolling my eyes!

I will just have to be glad she wants to be a monster and not a low cut top, mini skirt wearing nurse or something. When that year comes...Lord, help me.