It Was Not a Waste of a Good Cupcake

I did something that I have never done before.

I threw a cupcake at someone. More specifically, I threw a cupcake at The Husband.
To be even more specific, I threw a cupcake with bright green icing at him.

And, I hit him. In the back of the head. I would even go so far as to say I nailed him.

Even though I threw food, and did it in front of my girls, I have to say I am proud of myself. The pride comes in the fact that I actually hit him.

Now, in my defense for the bad part of my action, let me tell you that first and most importantly, I did not waste a good cupcake. I had already accidentally dropped the cupcake on the road and lost most of the icing in a big plop right in front of The Big One's school. So, I was only bringing the cupcake in to throw it away.
I walk in, carrying the rest of her loot from the class Halloween party, and the cauldron that I took bags of popcorn in.

I had no idea that I was a sitting duck. Or a walking duck.

Almost immediately after my back is to the closed door, he pops out and starts shooting me with a Nerf dart gun. This one happens to his Tommy Gun style, semi automatic Nerf gun. Not that which gun it was matters, other than to tell you he is serious about this stuff. Anyway, by the time I had gotten about 4 steps toward the kitchen, I had been hit at least a good 5 times. There was nothing I could do.

I rounded the corner and got behind the counters in hopes of waiting him out, but ever time I peeked around the corner, I got shot again.

So, there I was, trapped. I looked around me, and I saw only one option. The cupcake. Normally, I wouldn't throw food. Actually, I never throw food, and especially not good food like cupcakes. However, since this one was already inedible, it didn't count as good food anymore. I quickly considered the ramifications of my actions, including the fact that my kids were going to watch me throw food. I realized that it might not be a good idea. However, in the long run, self preservation won out.

I grabbed the cupcake and peeked around the corner. The Husband saw me. He looked at me for just a moment with total satisfaction in that he was about to shoot me again, and total disregard for the cupcake. After all, he didn't think I would do anything with it, even if I did threaten him with.

I did threaten him with it. It seemed the cupcake just wasn't a good enough threat.

He took aim.

I threw.

He looked incredulous for just a second, before turning and trying to duck. That second of disbelief took long enough to keep him from being able to get out of the way.

I nailed him, right in the back of the head. Not only did I nail him, though, but then the cupcake rolled down his head, hit his shoulder, and bounced onto his foot. I couldn't have willed it to do any better had I tried.



It was fantastic. I worried that he might be mad, but he was just shocked. I think more shocked that I hit than even the fact that I threw it, but shocked all the same.

Finally, after getting the camera, taking a great shot for proof, and calming my laughter enough to be able to control my body again, I made sure the girls saw me clean up my mess. They needed to at least see that if you make a mess like this, you have to be responsible and clean it up.

He took a shower, and we went on with our day from there with no more shooting. I think he might have been worried about the big stack of cupcakes in the fridge.

Losing Your Omniscience

As a parent, when your child comes into this world, most of the time, there is a perceived Omniscience. Your kids think you know everything. Personally, I use this to my advantage as often as I can. You can gt kids to confess to just about anything, if they think you already know.

It seems, though, that the veil is lifting, and The Big One is beginning to realize that I don't know everything.

The other day, we were sitting in the family room, going over spelling words, and I realized that there were a ton of planes going over head. We live by an airport, in a military town, and my husband flies in helicopters. I tend to not even notice air noise anymore. However, this was noise from jets, flying low and hard. They just kept passing over and over.

So, I look at The Big One and exasperated, I ask "What is up with these planes today?"

She stopped, looked at me like I must not be firing on a cylinders, and said "Its the Blue Angels, mom. Remember? The Air show." And she said it all in this I think I'm really 16 year old tone, with eye rolls inserted in several places for good measure.

Right then, I knew. She knew that I didn't know everything. She realized that she had caught a blond moment of mine, and that I have those moments. I knew I was busted. We both started busting up laughing. I mean, what else can you do when your 6 year old manages to catch you like that.

I have to change my line now, from "...because moms know everything" to "..because moms find everything out". I'm hoping that slight variation will buy me at least another year of confessions. I need that year to come up with a new game plan.

Buy Me Some Peanuts and Crackerjacks...

I don't know about you, but we had quite a night around here last night. Both girls were screaming, yelling, and generally being insanely loud, and it was totally fine. We took them to a baseball game, and I have to tell you, it was a ton of fun. We got tickets to see the San Diego Padres play the Saint Louis Cardinals. My husband used to be a huge fan of the Card, back in the Mark McGuire days, and I thought he might like the game. So, when I found a way to get us tickets for free, I signed us right up. The housing community that we live in sponsors great events for all the military families that live here. This was one of their fabulous events. We got free tickets to the game, and each person for a $5 food voucher to use. That was all totally cool to me!

We weren't really sure where we were supposed to go or park when we got down town. We muddled through and found a nice little lot on 8th Street. Then, we realized that the lot we had to find to get our tickets was on 13th. It was just a 5 block walk with 2 girls that didn't want to hold our hands, but did want to stop and look at everything in a crowded downtown area. No big. (Insert eye roll here).

We were told to go to the tail gating lot, which no one downtown seems to know exists. However, if you say the corner of Imperial and 13th, they get you and can send you in the right direction. We finally found this mysterious lot and the big red tent where our tickets were waiting. We hoofed it as fast as we could to the tent. There were lots of other families coming, and only the first 200 people got the food vouchers. I'm cheap. I told The Husband to leave us behind and run ahead of the others. He said he would stay with us and it would be ok. It was ok. They still had vouchers when we all got to the tent together. We go our tickets and baseball cards for the girls, and headed in.
Let's Go Padres!

Our seats were about 4 rows above the nose bleed section, but honestly, we didn't care. The girls just got a big kick out of everything. They love the Friar, and wanted him to be on the field more than the players. I tried explaining the game to Lilly, and she got it. Somewhat. She was cheering for both teams, but..ehhh..we didn't care. As long as they were having fun.
The food vouchers were awesome. They have this great 5 for $5 deal now that rocks. You got a hot dog, peanuts, drink, cookie, and something else that I can't remember all for $5. It was tailor made for my kids. So, we got them both that, and they went to town.
We let them eat, yell ,and be wild until they started to wind down. Shortly after the start of the bottom of the 7th inning, we took off. We had all had enough for the night, and even though we were leaving early, I think we were full up on fun. It was really a great time, and a great experience.

I am thankful to those who donated tickets, and let us have such a cool family experience, and create more beautiful family memories.

Ok, Ok, I Want to Potty Train After All

A while back, I posted about how much I did not want to potty train The Little One. Well, I take that all back. I want to potty train her, and I want to be done with it!
In the past couple of weeks, we have regressed from nearly being completely potty trained, to using diapers almost all the time. I have no idea why, either. While things have been a bit stressful around here, the past couple of weeks have been the best in the last month or so. So, why would it get worse now?? I just don't get it.

My guess is that The Little One has decided that she needs to make this decision, and wants to have complete control over this whole situation. If you have ever met her, then you know, this is a serious issue. Saying she is bull headed might be an understatement.

I'm not sure what else we can do, other than just give it time. I want to be done, but if she isn't ready, then she just isn't ready. Sometimes, you just have to give in and get on board their train, even if it isn't on the track you wanted to be on.

Losing Someone Close

Today, I found out that we lost a dear family friend. I am devastated. Though I knew she was sick, and very sick at that, I still feel shocked by her passing. It seems like there should have been more time. I had plans. I wanted to make her a card and send it to her. I wanted to send her a little get well gift. None of that will come to fruition, now. Life, or death really, trumped my plans.

Linda was a wonderful woman. I have so many fond memories of her. She is my mother's age, and I grew up with her. More than just my mom's friend, though, she was my friend. I would go places with her. I would hang out with her. She made every formal dress I have ever owned, including my prom dress and even wedding dress. We shopped a lot for that one. We drove an hour and a half to the best fabric store we could get to so that we could find exactly what I wanted. She custom made my Renaissance gown, with a partial pattern because nothing was exactly what I wanted. She hand sewed the pearl beading around the edge of my 10 foot train. She made my sister's dress, too. Then, as if doing that wasn't enough, she even served as my wedding coordinator. I don't know how I would have gotten married had it not been for her. Well, I suppose I would have gotten married in a dress that I didn't love, and a whole lot less organized without her.

I remember thinking she was such a cool mom. Not that my mom isn't cool, but Linda was in many ways a much more liberal parent than my own mother. Sometimes a little more liberal is good.

Yeah. She was great.

I feel so much for her family right now. The kids must be so distraught. I can't imagine. I so wish I could be there to support them in person. I would hold her daughter's hand, and send The Big One off to play with her oldest son. Sometimes, distractions for kids are a great thing. I would hug the middle child, because words just wouldn't do.

To the family: I am so sorry for your loss. I loved your mother dearly, and will miss her terribly. Know that she was and is a greatly loved woman, and there can be no greater legacy than that.

Goodbye, Linda. I wish I had gotten to tell you that myself. Thank you for everything. I mean everything. You meant a lot to my life, and I appreciate your being a part of it. I hope your body is finally healed, and you are in paradise, relaxing now. Rest in peace.

Time to Let Go, and Let...

I think I am having one of those days. You know, those days where I should be completely down and upset. The kind of day that makes you want to crawl into bed and eat Oreos.

However, I have decided phooey on that for today. Instead, I have come to the decision that it is time to just let go, and let .... (Insert appropriate Deity or force here God, Dog, Buddha, The Goddess, Mother Nature, Fate, etc) take over. I can't do anything about anything, but my attitude. I could, and rightfully so, curl up in a ball and wait for it to be over. Then, my house wouldn't be any cleaner than it is right now and probably a whole lot dirtier. My kids would be a whole lot hungrier. I would be a little smellier for not having showered, and my sheets would need to be washed because of the cookies. So, why add more onto the day? Why not just make the best of what you have? That is what I choose to do.

So far, I have started on one of the three major cleaning projects that I have to get done in the next week. I got in a great workout at the gym. My girls are eating lunch, and I am about to shower while they are occupied. After that, I intend to finish the project that I started, do my normal cleaning, and then make a fantastic dinner for tonight. That is all to be followed up by a walk around the neighborhood with mi familia and a visit to our park before we walk home.

Today will be a great day.

I Hate Baloons

I hate balloons. No. There was no quirky, slightly misleading title to this post. There is no interesting build up. The truth here is bad enough.

I am a mother who loathes balloons.

I do. I can't stand them. They make me cringe every time I see one, and I am not allergic to latex. So, the reaction is purely mental for me.

I have to say that my hatred probably stemmed from my own mother. As a child, like most children, I loved balloons. Every time we would get a balloon, though, my mom would tell us this horror story about a little boy who put a balloon up to his mouth and popped it. According to her, pieces went into his throat, and if I remember correctly, they couldn't get them all out, and he died before anyone could get him to the hospital. Now, I have no idea how true this story is, or when it happened, but I believe my mom really feared for us when she told us this story. So in turn, I now fear for my children, and think of this very story every time they have one.

The hatred is so deep seated, though, that they don't even have to have a balloon for me to get agitated. Just seeing one is enough to start my skin crawling.

I know that the moment someone beside them gets a balloon, or there is an opportunity for them to get a balloon, that we have to have that discussion about why they can't have one, and I have to come up with some terrible excuse. I feel like a bad mom because I won't let them have a simple little balloon, one of life's joys for a child. It isn't even that I am being a bad mom, but more a little nutty and overly concerned mom. It is just the way I am and I like to avoid the situation at all costs.

I try to be cool about things, and realize that kids will be kids, but seriously, I just can't quite get past all my fears when it comes to balloons. I know in my head that this is my issue, and that kids get balloons all the time without inhaling them. So, I am trying to work on that. I am trying to give them some time to play with them, and just not freak about them all the time. Maybe one day, I can even be excited with them when they get a balloon, or at least not want to handle them like I am a member of the bomb squad, taking care of a suspicious package. Maybe.