Monster Jam

I think it's safe to say that last weekend was the highlight of Aiden's life thus far.  Ever since Dumb Thing # 10,421, Aiden has kept monster trucks near and dear to his little heart.  About a month ago we got a coupon in the mail for Monster Jam.  If you are unfamiliar with this event, it is THE place to see monster trucks in full fledged action.  I couldn't stop myself from wanting to indulge my son into this world of dirt flingin' engine revvin' car crushin' good ole' boy fun.  The next day I drove down to the box office for 2 tickets...1 for him and 1 for Brian.  Row 15, not bad.  Call it enabling or just plain impulsive, but I'm glad I did it.  We hyped him up for weeks about going.  He was prepared for the ear plugs, but we weren't sure if he would be intimidated by the 'real thing'.  His little hot wheel monster trucks are no match for what he was about to encounter.  I have to admit, I was kind of banking on him crying.  I had imagined Brian calling me 20 minutes after starting and telling me they were coming home because Aiden was scared.  Much to my surprise (and relief) the phone call I received at half time was a good one.  Aiden DID NOT cry and thought the trucks were awesome.  Brian said he just looked star struck the whole time.  He also said that they were so close that when the dirt was flinging, they got hit.  Yeah!  Bonus!

This is the face of one happy boy.

 He made me a couple of videos while they were there too.  So sweet that they thought of me.

Click here *Hi Mommy!

Click here *Was it Fun?

For those of you who are interested...Yes, Grave Digger was there.  He lost to a girl.  That's all I know.

When the boys got home I was fully expecting Aiden to be conked out.  I had turned his bed down and laid out his pj's so we could just slip him quickly into bed.  After all, it was 10:30...waaaaay past bed time.  Aiden surprised me again.  He was wide awake when they walked in the door.  I don't think I've ever seen him so excited!  His little voice was all horse and he couldn't stop grinning as he told me all about it.  I felt like the best mom ever for getting him those tickets.  Too bad Brian will be the one who goes down in Aiden's book as the hero.  I don't care though.  It was all worth it to see the look on his face when he got home.  Brian said he was more excited talking to me than he was when he was watching the trucks!  

At the end they gave out coupons for next year.  Aiden carries his around.  When he's not it hangs on his bulletin board in his room.  I think he's in love.  As redneck as I think Monster Trucks are, I'm OK with it.  We've got good southern roots here.  So that makes it like a cultural thing, right?  How else can I expose him to the permed mullet adorned with baseball cap?  What would you call that, a Permullet??  Who knows, we may put that coupon to good use next year too! 

Pillow Talk

Me-"I didn't think it was possible, but you've managed to take lame to a whole new level."
Brian-"What?  What did I do?"
Me-"It's not what you did, it's what you DIDN'T do."

Oh are these words not classic?  This exchange was not done in anger, mind you, I was actually laughing when I said it.  Laughing, though not to be mistaken as kidding.  I was NOT kidding.  This is the last conversation I had with my husband before finding him asleep in our bed.  Thinking that he would still be awake after I finished brushing my teeth was foolish of me.  When his head hits that pillow there's no turning back.  He's gone.  I'm ready to explain myself and I find him just lying there, peacefully asleep.  That's so annoying.  My first thought was to whack him with a pillow and demand that he stay awake to talk to me.  My second thought was to kiss him goodnight whether he woke up or not and just let it go.  But then if I do that I'd just lie there in the dark thinking about it.  I'll blog.

I'm well aware of my feelings and whether or not they are misplaced.  In this case they are not.  He's totally lame.  But I'm having other issues as well.  I don't think he (or anyone who is not staying at home with their kids) realizes how much work it actually is.  You would think that I've got all the time in the world to sit around and play with the kids and do whatever I want.  This is not the case.  I feel like I am busier now than I was when I had a 'real' job.  We wake up, I make breakfast.  The kids get a bath, brush their teeth and get dressed.  I clean the kitchen.  I feed Riley, I put her to bed.  Clean up time for the kids' toys.  I do preschool with Ella and Aiden during Riley's nap.  Riley wakes up, and finally I can play.  I've got 30 minutes until I have to make lunch.  That's right, lunch.  We've been up all morning and it's not until almost lunchtime that I can play.  After that I make lunch, give Riley another bath and clean the kitchen...again.  Clean up toy time again.  Next, nap time.  My favorite time of the day.  Brian is home briefly to help put the kids down.  I can sit with him for about 10 minutes before he has to leave again.  It's 2pm now and I can finally get my shower.  When 3:00 rolls around Riley is the first to wake up.  Next is Ella and then Aiden.  If I want to go anywhere it's always 4 before I can get out the door.  Change diapers, put on shoes, pack a snack for the car.  I've only got an hour and a half before I have to be home again to make dinner.  Our afternoon outings consist of the grocery store, errands or the park.  When we get home I make dinner and usually have it all ready and plating food when Brian walks in the door.  He bathes the kids.  I clean the kitchen as much as I can before the kids' bedtime.  Mostly just the dishes get left.  I feed Riley, put her to bed and we alternate with Ella and Aiden.  Once the kids are down I start laundry.  We usually let the chores (what chores?  I already did everything!) go until we are ready to go to bed.  I fold the laundry while Brian finishes the kitchen.

I have this theory.  He lives here to so he has to help.  Dishes in the evenings and take out the trash.  I get that he works and everything but come on.  Like that's so much to ask?  So who does everything else?  Me.  Clean every other room in the house including bathrooms, keep it tidy all day, keep toiletries and food fully stocked, vacuum, laundry, change bed linens, rotate towels, mop up to 3 times a day...yaddah yaddah yaddah.  The bottom line here is I feel like I'm cleaning all day...or at least 75% of the day.  When Brian is home my expectations change and I feel like I want to quit cleaning and let him take over.  The truth of the matter is that there is no break.  It's just life.  I like being home and I'm too controlling to let anyone else do the work for me.  It's just the monotony catches up to me sometimes.  Too often my thoughts are that of change, but when change comes I just want things to go back to being normal again.  But who doesn't get stuck in a rut right?  I guess it's been a while since my last rut.  It was back when Riley pooped my way out of it.  In hindsight I don't know what I was thinking posting those pictures.  What a disgusting post.

So back to my initial story.  I thought I'd be nice tonight and do the whole kitchen for Brian.  This way when we were done vegging he'd have nothing to do.  I on the other hand still had laundry to fold.  So now it's our bedtime and I went ahead upstairs to start my folding while he locked up.  When he came up I was sitting in the floor folding and he walked right past me and got into bed.  Que the "You're so lame" conversation.  My expectations were too high I guess.  I thought that he would help me, since I had done ALL of the house work today.  So yes, he did reach a new level of lame tonight.  I was disappointed.  He should be able to read my mind and know exactly what I want!  I'm kidding of course, but wouldn't it just make life that much easier?  If we didn't have to tell or ask our spouse what we wanted?  Lame or not lame he's still a good husband.  And I'm a good wife.  Especially since I decided to not whack him with the pillow.  He'll thank me for that in the morning. He'll also thank me for not getting an ear full of the same ole' same ole' at midnight.  So to my dear sweet (and occasionally lame ) husband:  You're Welcome.   

Southern Snow

It's a funny thing when it snows here in the south.  People only want it to snow so they don't have to go to school or work.  You may get a few good hours of play out of it, but then everything turns icy and you are stuck inside going crazy!  Everything is closed because 'we don't know how to drive in this stuff'!  I also don't understand why grocery stores are wiped out of bread and milk.  First off, if the power goes out, your milk isn't going to do you much good...unless you are storing it outside in the snow.  Secondly, what do you plan on eating for the next few days?  Dry bread?  PB&J's for every meal?  I guess us Redneck folk don't know any better.

Real men wear purple

I also like how unprepared inventive we are when it snows.  Thankfully, Ella gets hand-me-downs from a cousin who has snowsuits.  So she was all set.  Unfortunately Aiden gets hand-me-downs from Ella, and all the snowsuits are purple.  Poor kid.

Brian insisted on layering the kid's clothes and was determined they would not get cold.  Ella was alright.  Everything matched down to her boots.  She was also lucky to have a little wiggle room too.  Aiden on the other hand was not so lucky.  It started with the tights.  Yes, tights.  Pink and green and white striped tights.  Over the tights were leggings and then jeans.  Up top he had on a long sleeved shirt and a hoodie. 
Over all of this went his purple snow suit and an almost too small snow jacket.  On with an extra pair of socks and two sets of mittens.  We covered up the purple with some (manlier) sweat pants.  I could hardly fit his boot (a rain boot) over his pants.  We caked his cheeks with lanolin and he was ready go to out.  He couldn't put his arms down.  I couldn't help but laugh.  He fell almost instantly after stepping into the snow.  He couldn't get up by himself.  I laughed again.  The bad Mommy in me watched him roll from side to side like a fish out of water before calling Brian to help.  Shame on me. 

I sat inside with Riley and we observed out the window.  There was Brian and the kids.  He was pulling them down the street on a homemade sled he rigged up out of his old office sign.  When he came back he was hauling two extra kids.  I bet if you squeezed them all on there it could have been a five-seater.  Problem was that it is just a slick flat piece of corrugated aluminum.  This reminded me of the cartoons when someone falls down the hill and turns into a snowball.  The more he pulled them through the thick snow, the more it just piled on.  It was pretty funny. 

My attention turned to something pink I saw whiz past me.  A neighbor had blown up a hot pink pool float.  I watched as the man ran down the street pulling his kid behind on the float.  I then watched the man stumble and fall and land face first into the snow.  I laughed out loud.  Riley smacked the window looking longingly outside.  I wondered if she saw it too. 

Brian had loaned out the other half of the sign to some other neighbors down the street.  They were grouped up with some kids who were using a lid to a tote as a sled.  I'm not sure how well that worked out.  I also saw a kid with a boogie board.  That seemed to work alright...maybe.  He would run holding the board to his chest and dive into the snow and slide about a foot.  He looked a little disappointed.  I probably would have been too.  Our neighbor next door (who still has NOT taken down his Christmas decorations) inflated a raft.  You know the kind you pull behind a boat.  Oh my, I thought.

An hour later Brian and the kids were coming inside.  All those wet clothes.  Just leave them outside so I don't have to think about the amount of laundry that I have to do now!  After getting everybody warm and dressed Brian called me from upstairs.  The neighbor next door had hooked the raft up to his pick up truck.  His daughter (9 years old?  10 maybe?) was sitting in the raft.  I was surprised that my first thought was not that of safety.  I was thinking about the exhaust and that it must have smelled terrible.  My second thought was, hey that's something MY dad would have done.  Wait a minute, I think I just had a flash back of me sledding down a hill in the mountains with my dad driving next to me in the jeep clocking my speed.  I also remember sparks flying off of the back of the sled.  I think I remember him telling me that it was "as slick as snot."  At what point did he think there may have been a chance that he could have run over me?  Guess it wouldn't have been the first time...but that's a whole different story.  Anyway, Brian and I contemplated what was going to happen once he went downhill and her raft started going faster than the truck.  I'm not really sure how that worked out for them.  I enjoyed watching the neighborhood out on our 'snow day'.  I also enjoyed staying inside NOT getting out in the snow.  I went out when it snowed after Christmas and that was enough for me.  Bah-Hum Bug!  I'll keep the house warm for you and have some hot chocolate ready when you come in!