I just had an epiphany, (major psychotic break) a revelation if you will. As I awoke to another day of chaos I decided it was too much.
Today's morning began with the girls fighting over who got to have Monty sleep with them and Teddy sleeping through Sashsa peeing all over his floor. As I stood in Teddy's room, trying to rescue his school backpack and uniform which had been left on the floor I listened to them argue in the kitchen over who was allowed to have a waffle or not.
I must admit that I snapped a bit. It wasn't pretty. The dog ran and hid under the table. Words were said. Now I have to come up with an alternate meaning to the "horse you road in on" but there was a positive result. I had a discussion - can't say conversation because they weren't allowed to say a God.Damn.thing. about the concept of First World and Third World problems. Connor was horrified about kids who not only don't eat waffles but may not eat for the day. I think Teddy was formulating a list of weapons found in HALO in his mind but he was almost able to fake his attention. I will give him some props for that. Tessi was still pissed about the damn cat. So while I was imparting knowledge about others suffering my kids weren't understanding that was my clue that they too were about to suffer. Kids are very smart unless they are very, very stupid.
This brought me to my grand design change. My house is bloody mess because my kids have too much crap and don't care one whit about it. They will clean something up only if directly ordered to. There is no desire to live outside mess just to do what they want. Soooo, now instead of me coming up with lists of chores to be done I will start assigning rooms to be cleaned. Each will get a room. Before tv, computer, any bloody thing, their assigned room must be done. Since they don't know what needs to be done, in the beginning they will have to have me inspect it every 2 minutes. Only when these items are done can fun stuff be utalized.
Right now the 3 of them are scrambling to empty the dishwasher, clear and wipe the kitchen table, take out recyling trash and empty kids laundry baskets. Teddy just countered with the classic, "But we only have 10 minutes until we leave" to which I responded, "Well, I guess you're kind of screwed then, aren't you?"
The best part though, the piece de resistance, is the bedroom cleaning. Each of them will be assigned to clean the OTHER'S room. There will be a box for trash and a box for items that it's not sure where they belong. The owner of the room will be allowed to go through the trash box before removal. Now if the owner said room has items that he knows he will get in trouble for having...say candy wrappers, soda cans or his Touch, perhaps he should remove them before his eagle-eyed sister, on the hunt for WMD that she can destroy his ass with, finds them and squeals on him like a stuck pig.
I'm going to spend some time creating check lists of items to done in a room cleaning. Kitchen: wipe table, sweep floor, Living Room: remove shoes, fold blankets, yadda, yadda, yadda. I may even laminate them to give the lists that shiny glow of authority.
Now, will this make them appreciate things and care about the world around them? Probably not. However as I'm still coming down off of my adrenalin pumping rage I realize that I don't care. They will understand cause and affect though, I'll make damn sure of that.
Cause Mommy to crack and the affect will be Hell on Earth.
An American family living in Australia. While we all speak English here, I wouldn't say we all speak the same language.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
NSW Teacher's Union Strike
Growing up in the North Eastern US, as a descendant of employees of the Pennsylvania Rail Road and Western PA coal mines I was brought up to be a moderate Democrat with very pro-union feelings. Wasn't too much worse than a scab in my parents house. Picket lines were lines written in blood and pain. They were to be honored and supported...at all costs.
Now having those same thoughts and beliefs while living in Texas made me a granola-munching, tree-hugging pinko commie, good-for-nothing soldier hater. In fact, I used to shock many native Texans when I said how humbled I was by those in military service and how shameful it was how poorly our vets were treated. They could never reconcile that I didn't blame immigrants for poisoning the well but but still argued for vets rights. I do that a lot I think, I confuse the Hell outta people. I'm ok with that, in fact, I may put that on a t-shirt.
I mention this to try and establish some street cred for myself before I start talking about the Aussie way of striking. Let me also add that some of my very best friends are teachers...ok, that was a bit of a joke but both my parents were teachers. My father, a natural born instructor, had to leave the profession in order to provide for his family. That is an honest to goodness crime in my book. Humanity lost something spectacular the day Frank Welch couldn't afford to teach anymore. Well, Humanity's loss was my gain. My mother was a principal at a Catholic school and never earned more than $25,000 a year. I know all to well what it's like living on a teachers salary and the nicest way to put it is that it sucks. You just don't get the expensive senior prom dress on a teachers salary. Yes, I'm still bitter. Leave me alone.
Trust me, I am PRO teacher. I'm such a closet socialist that I think all organized education is doing it wrong. Instructors should be rock stars and all kids should demand knowledge as their birthright. The idea that the quality of learning is dependent on on wealth is truly obscene to me.
Yea, yea....I know, in what REAL world Che? But if you don't visualize Utopia how can there be any hope of it becoming reality? Hmmmm, yet another shirt idea...I am on a roll. May send that bad boy off to Thinkgeek.com Yes, I know it's not really Geek but what the Hell? Worth a shot....
That being said, the Aussie way of striking confuses the HELL out of me. Back home union and management scum disagree. They yell at each other at a few meetings. Management says no, union says try to work without us. They strike. They leave work. Management may or may not hire loser scabs to try and do work. Strike lasts a day, a week, months or years until one side caves, resolutions are made, both sides claim victory and work resumes. The end.
Here inOz the NSW government does something to piss off the teachers. The teachers union rallies the teachers and they announce...in advance...that there will be a work stoppage... Usually 2 hours. During this 2 hours teachers have a union meeting and discuss why they are pissed and then.... now get this...they go back to work....at the time they said they would.
For tomorrow they must be extra cheesed because they have called for a 24 hour stoppage-essentially the whole day. Then they will go back to work on Thursday.
From what I can piece together the idea is that parents will be so hacked that they will demand that their government reps , called PM's, will acquiesce to whatever the teachers want.
Um...why the Hell would they do that? YOU'VE GONE BACK TO WORK ALREADY. Yes, the teacher's didn't like what the government said they were going to do, duly noted. So what?
Let me say this again - I am PRO teacher. I'm keeping my kids home tomorrow and I have nothing but positive feelings towards my schools teachers. Let me put this in print: I love and cherish all the teachers at Normanhurst Public School. I think you are wonderful. You are grossly underpaid. You are tragically under-appreciated for the work you do. If our teachers actually walked out I would support them. I would walk the picket line with them, drop off dinners to their families and bitch to every damn parliament member there is demanding that they get our teachers back.
But this kind of striking just pits the teachers against the parents. Working parents despertly trying to find extra child care for 2 hours while trying to earn a living. Parents trying to juggle the normal every day schedule of the week...this causes stress for parents...not for government.
Teachers, I love ya, but you are pissing off the wrong group. In the end teachers and parents are on the same side- quality education. Parents want it and need it. Teachers want it and need it. Happy educators mean quality education. We want this, I swear, but if you keep jacking with us you will force us to be against you and I promise you, the wrong people will win. Most of all, the children will lose.
So tomorrow while our teachers are meeting and trying to develop strategies to improve school conditions and I will be trapped in a showing of Brave with at least 9 munchkins - the people who can sign off on making the changes you want? What will they be doing? They will be sitting on their asses, in their offices, just as they did today and just as they will tomorrow and 2 days from now. Twiddling their thumbs, waiting for the worms to turn until you are back at work. Only now, teachers and students are a day behind in their term work, parents are frazzled and pissy about the extra work on them and the powers-that-be? What will Mr. Barry O'Farrell and the leaders of our state government be doing?
Sitting on their asses, in their offices, on the phone telling every media agent they can what selfish prats the teachers are... all while NOT making the changes you need.
Please, re-think this plan.
Now having those same thoughts and beliefs while living in Texas made me a granola-munching, tree-hugging pinko commie, good-for-nothing soldier hater. In fact, I used to shock many native Texans when I said how humbled I was by those in military service and how shameful it was how poorly our vets were treated. They could never reconcile that I didn't blame immigrants for poisoning the well but but still argued for vets rights. I do that a lot I think, I confuse the Hell outta people. I'm ok with that, in fact, I may put that on a t-shirt.
I mention this to try and establish some street cred for myself before I start talking about the Aussie way of striking. Let me also add that some of my very best friends are teachers...ok, that was a bit of a joke but both my parents were teachers. My father, a natural born instructor, had to leave the profession in order to provide for his family. That is an honest to goodness crime in my book. Humanity lost something spectacular the day Frank Welch couldn't afford to teach anymore. Well, Humanity's loss was my gain. My mother was a principal at a Catholic school and never earned more than $25,000 a year. I know all to well what it's like living on a teachers salary and the nicest way to put it is that it sucks. You just don't get the expensive senior prom dress on a teachers salary. Yes, I'm still bitter. Leave me alone.
Trust me, I am PRO teacher. I'm such a closet socialist that I think all organized education is doing it wrong. Instructors should be rock stars and all kids should demand knowledge as their birthright. The idea that the quality of learning is dependent on on wealth is truly obscene to me.
Yea, yea....I know, in what REAL world Che? But if you don't visualize Utopia how can there be any hope of it becoming reality? Hmmmm, yet another shirt idea...I am on a roll. May send that bad boy off to Thinkgeek.com Yes, I know it's not really Geek but what the Hell? Worth a shot....
That being said, the Aussie way of striking confuses the HELL out of me. Back home union and management scum disagree. They yell at each other at a few meetings. Management says no, union says try to work without us. They strike. They leave work. Management may or may not hire loser scabs to try and do work. Strike lasts a day, a week, months or years until one side caves, resolutions are made, both sides claim victory and work resumes. The end.
Here inOz the NSW government does something to piss off the teachers. The teachers union rallies the teachers and they announce...in advance...that there will be a work stoppage... Usually 2 hours. During this 2 hours teachers have a union meeting and discuss why they are pissed and then.... now get this...they go back to work....at the time they said they would.
For tomorrow they must be extra cheesed because they have called for a 24 hour stoppage-essentially the whole day. Then they will go back to work on Thursday.
From what I can piece together the idea is that parents will be so hacked that they will demand that their government reps , called PM's, will acquiesce to whatever the teachers want.
Um...why the Hell would they do that? YOU'VE GONE BACK TO WORK ALREADY. Yes, the teacher's didn't like what the government said they were going to do, duly noted. So what?
Let me say this again - I am PRO teacher. I'm keeping my kids home tomorrow and I have nothing but positive feelings towards my schools teachers. Let me put this in print: I love and cherish all the teachers at Normanhurst Public School. I think you are wonderful. You are grossly underpaid. You are tragically under-appreciated for the work you do. If our teachers actually walked out I would support them. I would walk the picket line with them, drop off dinners to their families and bitch to every damn parliament member there is demanding that they get our teachers back.
But this kind of striking just pits the teachers against the parents. Working parents despertly trying to find extra child care for 2 hours while trying to earn a living. Parents trying to juggle the normal every day schedule of the week...this causes stress for parents...not for government.
Teachers, I love ya, but you are pissing off the wrong group. In the end teachers and parents are on the same side- quality education. Parents want it and need it. Teachers want it and need it. Happy educators mean quality education. We want this, I swear, but if you keep jacking with us you will force us to be against you and I promise you, the wrong people will win. Most of all, the children will lose.
So tomorrow while our teachers are meeting and trying to develop strategies to improve school conditions and I will be trapped in a showing of Brave with at least 9 munchkins - the people who can sign off on making the changes you want? What will they be doing? They will be sitting on their asses, in their offices, just as they did today and just as they will tomorrow and 2 days from now. Twiddling their thumbs, waiting for the worms to turn until you are back at work. Only now, teachers and students are a day behind in their term work, parents are frazzled and pissy about the extra work on them and the powers-that-be? What will Mr. Barry O'Farrell and the leaders of our state government be doing?
Sitting on their asses, in their offices, on the phone telling every media agent they can what selfish prats the teachers are... all while NOT making the changes you need.
Please, re-think this plan.
Friday, June 22, 2012
My Dog Forces Me to Drink
Bear with me a bit. This may seem like a bit of a stretch but you'll see the causality in a minute.
When I walk into the laundry room and I see this:
I know there that my future is already written and the words involve champers. No, not for the obvious reasons. I know that I will need specifically champagne. The reason is as follows. This bit of white fluff was once a roll of toilet paper. A 2-ply, double length roll. When I find it lying in shreds on the floor I know that if I walk into the downstairs bathroom there is no toilet paper and that is because somehow the cork stopper I put on the end of the roll is gone. I know this because every time the cork stopper is gone Sashsa nicks the toilet paper off of the holder, carries it back to the laundry room and eats as much as she can. So the above picture leads me to this:
Now....if I see the above picture every day then I don't have to deal with the first picture. My friend AJ of http://redomyspace.com.au/ would be absolutely horrified to see that a friend of hers would allow such an interior design gaffe to exist but then again, she has a good dog. Lenny, a chocolate lab. A breed FAMOUS for it's psychotic behavior and it's the good dog next to mine...but I digress.
Yes, this fix it will not win me any design awards however it works and if I may be blunt...there is no shortage of champers corks in my house. There were a couple dead soldiers from last night so there was a selection to choose from this morning. No, I'm not proud I'm just stating a hard truth. I have to drink to keep my dog from eating toilet paper. So in a way I'm protecting the environment. Cool, I can use that.
However my soon to be labeled alcoholism does not help me deal with this site, also found this morning:
Sashsa dragged Connor's lunch bag out of her backpack, pulled the eco-friendly sandwich box, tore through the BPA free hard plastic and ate her sandwich...which Connor obviously did not eat herself yesterday during lunch. Look a bit closer at the box, the sticker is torn because the plastic underneath of it is ripped away.
So now I'm back to buggering the environment buy using Ziploc sandwich bags. Should also mention that the box in question was on it's maiden run....just purchased to replace the OTHER FREAKIN BOX the damn dog ate.
I'm going back to bed now.
When I walk into the laundry room and I see this:
I know there that my future is already written and the words involve champers. No, not for the obvious reasons. I know that I will need specifically champagne. The reason is as follows. This bit of white fluff was once a roll of toilet paper. A 2-ply, double length roll. When I find it lying in shreds on the floor I know that if I walk into the downstairs bathroom there is no toilet paper and that is because somehow the cork stopper I put on the end of the roll is gone. I know this because every time the cork stopper is gone Sashsa nicks the toilet paper off of the holder, carries it back to the laundry room and eats as much as she can. So the above picture leads me to this:
Yes, this fix it will not win me any design awards however it works and if I may be blunt...there is no shortage of champers corks in my house. There were a couple dead soldiers from last night so there was a selection to choose from this morning. No, I'm not proud I'm just stating a hard truth. I have to drink to keep my dog from eating toilet paper. So in a way I'm protecting the environment. Cool, I can use that.
However my soon to be labeled alcoholism does not help me deal with this site, also found this morning:
Sashsa dragged Connor's lunch bag out of her backpack, pulled the eco-friendly sandwich box, tore through the BPA free hard plastic and ate her sandwich...which Connor obviously did not eat herself yesterday during lunch. Look a bit closer at the box, the sticker is torn because the plastic underneath of it is ripped away.
So now I'm back to buggering the environment buy using Ziploc sandwich bags. Should also mention that the box in question was on it's maiden run....just purchased to replace the OTHER FREAKIN BOX the damn dog ate.
I'm going back to bed now.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Another Reason to Hate Bugs
****Edited because apparently I was so strung out on kids this morning I forgot to add the pictures. Yep! That's me, the one my friends call Techie...."*******
I have issues with insects. Well, I'm not really sure issues is the right word. I hate them. Always have. My dad is a major bug lover so I can only imagine the massive disappointment it is for him to have such an avid and vocal bug hater for a daughter. Such is life though, we can't always get what we want.
For me bugs are either gross, annoying or downright terrifying. Moving from the Northeastern US to Texas was a real eye-opener for me. I encountered more weird bugs and crazy looking things than I ever thought it possible they could exist. Then I moved to Australia. A place that Evolution said, "Nah, nevermind. Even I can't figure out what to change you into so I'm just going to take off" There are things here that are simply insane. Either in size, color or just weirdness. I spend a great deal of my waking moments wondering, "What the Hell is that and how long do I have to live?"
As you can guess, bugs are big part of my conscientiousness. I bitch about them constantly. There I said it. Now people can't complain about my whinging if I own up to it right? No, they can but it was worth a shot. I bring this up because I do blame a lot of my problems on bugs. I blame my heart palpitations, my sore throats from screaming, the pain in my head from all headaches and I blame the large scar on my leg caused by last year's sick tick bite.
However this morning, I'm blaming my children's crazy behavior on a bug. Normally even I wouldn't do that. They've earned the right to take responsibility for their own stupid-ass actions but no, today, I blame this moth.
I saw this moth up high in my kitchen curtains the other day. I made Teddy climb up on the counter to see what it was - yes, he is my personal canary in the mine - and low and behold it's a blue moth. Now I'm not afraid of moth's, they are classified as simply annoying to me. This one was blue though, something I'd never seen so I posted a picture on Facebook because this weird stuff still gets me. This morning I noticed though that Mr. Moth is now an Ex-Moth. Note following picture.
It seems he didn't notice the BIG ASS spider web web 6 inches from where he was resting and flew into it and Madam Spider got her some breckie....Circle of Life. No tears on my part, one less bug in the universe. As Agnostic Front used to say on their whirlwind metal music tours, "Kill 'em all, let God sort 'em out"
I mention to the kids that the blue moth has bit it. No big deal, right. Nope, this is when the Hell begins. Connor comments that it's not blue. It's orange. Both Teddy and I turn to look at it. No, it's blue. "NO!!!" Connor insists, it's orange!!! Then Teddy fires back that she's blind and doesn't know what she's talking about. I, with a bit more tact, state humbly that the moth is in fact, blue. Connor yells, "No, from my distance, it's ORANGE!" Meaning, I assume from her perspective, but I haven't had any tea yet so I could be wrong. Teddy takes this moment to lay straight back, on top of Connor, forcing her to fall back to keep boy cooties from touching her. He does this, again with the assumption to look at the moth from her "distance"
This is when it all snowballs straight to the fiery pits of Hell. Connor kicks Teddy in the back for touching her, Teddy yells at her for being stupid about the moth and for kicking him. I point out that he was laying on her and with a Tessi worthy snarl he turns to me and spits out, "I.wasn't.on.her. I.was.over.her" Tessi starts laughing, Connor is glowering. I blink heavily and spit back with more venom, "I'm.looking.right.at.you. You're.laying.on.her.right.now. DUMBASS" He storms out, Tessi is laughing uncontrollably now. She gets up and says, "Mommy, you know how you decorate our chairs on our birthdays? Well, you know how Connor got to pick the colors for her chair? I want light blue and light green." Great, now I have to hunt the shops this morning for light blue and light green crepe paper, on top of making 25 cupcakes, a cake, wrap presents, 4 loads of laundry. No problem.
I turned to Connor and said, "YOU! I blame you for this. Every other year it didn't matter what color crepe paper I used and now I have to take custom orders!" I would like to mention that this was a joke. She was laughing....and then stopped. The sobbing started and she ran from the table shouting, "YOU HATE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
This all happened before 7:02 this morning.
All because of a dead Australian blue bug...and 3 crazy kids.
I have issues with insects. Well, I'm not really sure issues is the right word. I hate them. Always have. My dad is a major bug lover so I can only imagine the massive disappointment it is for him to have such an avid and vocal bug hater for a daughter. Such is life though, we can't always get what we want.
For me bugs are either gross, annoying or downright terrifying. Moving from the Northeastern US to Texas was a real eye-opener for me. I encountered more weird bugs and crazy looking things than I ever thought it possible they could exist. Then I moved to Australia. A place that Evolution said, "Nah, nevermind. Even I can't figure out what to change you into so I'm just going to take off" There are things here that are simply insane. Either in size, color or just weirdness. I spend a great deal of my waking moments wondering, "What the Hell is that and how long do I have to live?"
As you can guess, bugs are big part of my conscientiousness. I bitch about them constantly. There I said it. Now people can't complain about my whinging if I own up to it right? No, they can but it was worth a shot. I bring this up because I do blame a lot of my problems on bugs. I blame my heart palpitations, my sore throats from screaming, the pain in my head from all headaches and I blame the large scar on my leg caused by last year's sick tick bite.
However this morning, I'm blaming my children's crazy behavior on a bug. Normally even I wouldn't do that. They've earned the right to take responsibility for their own stupid-ass actions but no, today, I blame this moth.
I saw this moth up high in my kitchen curtains the other day. I made Teddy climb up on the counter to see what it was - yes, he is my personal canary in the mine - and low and behold it's a blue moth. Now I'm not afraid of moth's, they are classified as simply annoying to me. This one was blue though, something I'd never seen so I posted a picture on Facebook because this weird stuff still gets me. This morning I noticed though that Mr. Moth is now an Ex-Moth. Note following picture.
It seems he didn't notice the BIG ASS spider web web 6 inches from where he was resting and flew into it and Madam Spider got her some breckie....Circle of Life. No tears on my part, one less bug in the universe. As Agnostic Front used to say on their whirlwind metal music tours, "Kill 'em all, let God sort 'em out"
I mention to the kids that the blue moth has bit it. No big deal, right. Nope, this is when the Hell begins. Connor comments that it's not blue. It's orange. Both Teddy and I turn to look at it. No, it's blue. "NO!!!" Connor insists, it's orange!!! Then Teddy fires back that she's blind and doesn't know what she's talking about. I, with a bit more tact, state humbly that the moth is in fact, blue. Connor yells, "No, from my distance, it's ORANGE!" Meaning, I assume from her perspective, but I haven't had any tea yet so I could be wrong. Teddy takes this moment to lay straight back, on top of Connor, forcing her to fall back to keep boy cooties from touching her. He does this, again with the assumption to look at the moth from her "distance"
This is when it all snowballs straight to the fiery pits of Hell. Connor kicks Teddy in the back for touching her, Teddy yells at her for being stupid about the moth and for kicking him. I point out that he was laying on her and with a Tessi worthy snarl he turns to me and spits out, "I.wasn't.on.her. I.was.over.her" Tessi starts laughing, Connor is glowering. I blink heavily and spit back with more venom, "I'm.looking.right.at.you. You're.laying.on.her.right.now. DUMBASS" He storms out, Tessi is laughing uncontrollably now. She gets up and says, "Mommy, you know how you decorate our chairs on our birthdays? Well, you know how Connor got to pick the colors for her chair? I want light blue and light green." Great, now I have to hunt the shops this morning for light blue and light green crepe paper, on top of making 25 cupcakes, a cake, wrap presents, 4 loads of laundry. No problem.
I turned to Connor and said, "YOU! I blame you for this. Every other year it didn't matter what color crepe paper I used and now I have to take custom orders!" I would like to mention that this was a joke. She was laughing....and then stopped. The sobbing started and she ran from the table shouting, "YOU HATE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
This all happened before 7:02 this morning.
All because of a dead Australian blue bug...and 3 crazy kids.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Sometimes They are are just Too Damn Funny
Tessi's birthday is in a few days. I'm surprised you don't know about it as she has been announcing it to any carbon-based entity that stops long enough to listen. Fair enough, she's turning 7 and birthday's are pretty damn cool. It's the one day of the year I don't tell them, "You know, the sun doesn't rise and set on your rear end" or "It's not about YOU" On your birthday - it is all about you. As it should be. However, I think there should be some limits to the extravagance.
For example: Yes, I will be bringing treats for the class on Tessi's birthday. No, I will not roll out 25 tiny marzipan/fondant covers for the cupcakes and and hand draw Tessi's face on all of them. First of all, I am a lousy artist. Second of all, the cupcakes are mini and you wouldn't recognize the face anyway and third of all, that's insane. Yep, she said she wanted this for her school treat. The compromise is that I will get the cupcakes and put glitter on them. Yes, to me that's a compromise. That's the perk of being the leader of dictatorship.
Also, We will be having a family celebration on her birthday as is tradition. The Birthday person gets to chose the birthday meal. 9 times out of 10 this is pizza. This year Tessi announced she wanted to go to the Blue Gum - local pub/restaurant. Hmmmm, when asked why she stated because they have pizza and yummy desert. I told Tessi there would be no desert as we would come home for cake and presents. I wish I had my camera on me to have immortalized the look on her face. I can only imagine what thoughts were screaming through her brain. If I had to guess, I would say there was a combination of "Jesus Christ, the old bat has finally gone off her nut" and "Did she just say Connor is getting all my presents" There were shades of horror, disgust, terror, rage and general confusion. I really wonder if she will go into acting some day. I was impressed with how she was able to use her face to capture the moment and display all of those emotions. Then she set her jaw, snarled at me, "FINE, can I have lasagna?" Lasagna at home rather than $100 for dinner out? "Why yes, Tessi, yes you can"
The mom taketh away, but then she giveth back. Since I'm now a "good" mom again we start to discus her birthday cake. This is funny. She says she wants a "made cake" Hmmmm, God as my witness, I'm not sure what she means. What the Hell is an "unmade cake" so I stupidly ask her. I said stupidly because based upon the look she throws at me before answering only a complete dumb ass wouldn't know what it is. Here's her reply: It's a cake you make. Yep, that was her pearl of wisdom that she imparted. So I guess she was right, any dumb ass should have known that. Okay....I'll try and tread along a little further. I ask if she wants the puppy dog cake that I got for Connor last month and immediately got a look of pure disgust. I guess she remembers me dropping that cake too.
You know, you can be filled with sorrow to your core and you'll never be sorry enough for dropping one damn dog cake.
No, Madam doesn't want to risk another mushed puppy face so she wants...get this....me to cover the cake like Connor's Star Wars cake (again with the damn marzipan) and draw her face. See, we're back to having her face on things. What the Hell is up with that? Only now she says since the cake is bigger than a cupcake I should also draw all her family on it too. Sort of standing behind her looking at her with love. This is when Teddy pipes in, " Whoa, you want a picture of us looking at you? No way, I'm doing that" That's when I point out that it wouldn't be a real picture, I'm supposed to draw this, remember. Teddy says, "I don't want a picture of me staring at Tessi like that"
Now, I'll be honest. I'm laughing my ass off right now, for more than a few reasons. 1. I can't draw for crap. My stick figures look obscene. I need a ruler to draw a curvy line. In short, I suck. EVERYONE knows this. Somehow I'm supposed to create some sort of loving family portrait, on FREAKIN CAKE? Whatever 2. Teddy's main concern is that there will be evidence, albeit cake evidence, that he is looking at his sister with love. I guess Homey don't play that. 3. Tessi actually wants her face all over every damn thing all of a sudden. Um hi, I thought the Super ID developed 3 years ago?
True to my form I decide another compromise is in order. "Tessi, how about I make a chocolate cake with chocolate icing, cover it with the special flat cover (marzipan) and YOU draw all over it, anything you want and Connor won't be allowed to help."
Two eyebrows shoot up. One on Tessi, "Just me, by myself?" One on Connor, "Wait, why can't I help?" Of course Teddy is still grumbling about how he'd better not see himself on it. But the die is cast. Tessi accepts the idea happily and immediately starts planning what she's going to draw and most importantly, starts pointing out to Connor that she can't draw anything.
So far, it's the best birthday ever.
For example: Yes, I will be bringing treats for the class on Tessi's birthday. No, I will not roll out 25 tiny marzipan/fondant covers for the cupcakes and and hand draw Tessi's face on all of them. First of all, I am a lousy artist. Second of all, the cupcakes are mini and you wouldn't recognize the face anyway and third of all, that's insane. Yep, she said she wanted this for her school treat. The compromise is that I will get the cupcakes and put glitter on them. Yes, to me that's a compromise. That's the perk of being the leader of dictatorship.
Also, We will be having a family celebration on her birthday as is tradition. The Birthday person gets to chose the birthday meal. 9 times out of 10 this is pizza. This year Tessi announced she wanted to go to the Blue Gum - local pub/restaurant. Hmmmm, when asked why she stated because they have pizza and yummy desert. I told Tessi there would be no desert as we would come home for cake and presents. I wish I had my camera on me to have immortalized the look on her face. I can only imagine what thoughts were screaming through her brain. If I had to guess, I would say there was a combination of "Jesus Christ, the old bat has finally gone off her nut" and "Did she just say Connor is getting all my presents" There were shades of horror, disgust, terror, rage and general confusion. I really wonder if she will go into acting some day. I was impressed with how she was able to use her face to capture the moment and display all of those emotions. Then she set her jaw, snarled at me, "FINE, can I have lasagna?" Lasagna at home rather than $100 for dinner out? "Why yes, Tessi, yes you can"
The mom taketh away, but then she giveth back. Since I'm now a "good" mom again we start to discus her birthday cake. This is funny. She says she wants a "made cake" Hmmmm, God as my witness, I'm not sure what she means. What the Hell is an "unmade cake" so I stupidly ask her. I said stupidly because based upon the look she throws at me before answering only a complete dumb ass wouldn't know what it is. Here's her reply: It's a cake you make. Yep, that was her pearl of wisdom that she imparted. So I guess she was right, any dumb ass should have known that. Okay....I'll try and tread along a little further. I ask if she wants the puppy dog cake that I got for Connor last month and immediately got a look of pure disgust. I guess she remembers me dropping that cake too.
You know, you can be filled with sorrow to your core and you'll never be sorry enough for dropping one damn dog cake.
No, Madam doesn't want to risk another mushed puppy face so she wants...get this....me to cover the cake like Connor's Star Wars cake (again with the damn marzipan) and draw her face. See, we're back to having her face on things. What the Hell is up with that? Only now she says since the cake is bigger than a cupcake I should also draw all her family on it too. Sort of standing behind her looking at her with love. This is when Teddy pipes in, " Whoa, you want a picture of us looking at you? No way, I'm doing that" That's when I point out that it wouldn't be a real picture, I'm supposed to draw this, remember. Teddy says, "I don't want a picture of me staring at Tessi like that"
Now, I'll be honest. I'm laughing my ass off right now, for more than a few reasons. 1. I can't draw for crap. My stick figures look obscene. I need a ruler to draw a curvy line. In short, I suck. EVERYONE knows this. Somehow I'm supposed to create some sort of loving family portrait, on FREAKIN CAKE? Whatever 2. Teddy's main concern is that there will be evidence, albeit cake evidence, that he is looking at his sister with love. I guess Homey don't play that. 3. Tessi actually wants her face all over every damn thing all of a sudden. Um hi, I thought the Super ID developed 3 years ago?
True to my form I decide another compromise is in order. "Tessi, how about I make a chocolate cake with chocolate icing, cover it with the special flat cover (marzipan) and YOU draw all over it, anything you want and Connor won't be allowed to help."
Two eyebrows shoot up. One on Tessi, "Just me, by myself?" One on Connor, "Wait, why can't I help?" Of course Teddy is still grumbling about how he'd better not see himself on it. But the die is cast. Tessi accepts the idea happily and immediately starts planning what she's going to draw and most importantly, starts pointing out to Connor that she can't draw anything.
So far, it's the best birthday ever.
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