Da Bears & Da Kids?

Just a random thought:  Anybody know where I can purchase tranquilizer darts that can be jettisoned from a long tube?  I’m thinking of an Aboriginal Dart Gun.  I dreamed of this overnight.  I can see it now: My husband and I have everything on our bodies crossed, intently watching Da Bears vs. The Colts  when our oldest daughter stomps into the living room, whining, “Mom! Rosie’s trying to take my…”  Thwack.  A tranquilizer dart hits her in the neck before she can even finish the sentence.  Her eyes roll back in her head as her body quietly slumps to the floor.  DH says: “Oh, look.  Did we forget that it was naptime? Damn!”  I kindly place a pillow under Halie’s head and throw a blanket over her and am not disturbed by her sudden lack-of-consciousness.  That’s the point where I wake up.  With a smirk on my face.

Do me a favor, those of you who do not know my daughters: pry your hand from your precious pearls and listen to me carefully.  I do not refer to my girls as ‘Circus Monkeys’ in my blog to insinuate that they are anything less than joyful.  They have that much curiosity and that much energy and yes, that much mischevious spirit.  I allow them to intimidate me…maybe push me to the limits of my sanity.  I love them, and if my house is a zoo, then so be it!

 I know that my dream of using tranquilizers is far from noble in regards to loving parenthood. My own mother and I laugh at stories about our yearly two-day train trips to Chicago in the 80’s, of which I can only vaguely remember the first of, thanks to Benadryl (or as I call it: legal pediatric sedative).  I have to tell you the truth of our plan for watching the Superbowl next weekend.  Our three daughters (8, 6 and 3, respectively) will most likely sit in their pre-ordained spots on the sofa, not because they are so thrilled by watching grown men in tight pants handle a pigskin, but mostly because they know they need to be seated close to the half-time snacks to even hope for a bite or two. 

Most women dread football season.  The females in my house LOVE it.  It is almost guaranteed that DH will make something to feed us all!

It’s all over after Da Bears win the Superbowl next weekend. At least until next August!

Traitors!

I gave birth to you!  I am your number one fan. Yet, you betray me to your father.  DARN YOU!

Those sweet, innocent little voices telling your daddy that you didn’t even want to eat at McDonald’s, but mommy made you.  You asked for asparagus and prime rib, but NO.  Mommy demanded that you eat fast food or nothing else.  Those same sweet little voices that so cheerfully accepted my plans for a quick dinner, followed by soft-serve ice cream and an hour plus on the indoor playground to wear your little bodies out and prime you for early bedtime

What is the saying about ‘best laid plans’? Oh yeah. I remember now.

When your father comes home as you are all finishing up your before-bedtime routines (pick out clothes for tomorrow/shower/brush teeth/potty/bedtime stories), you tell him about how I practically forced those delicious nuggets (chicken lips and ass, I think) down your respective gullets and how you pleaded with me not to pile a dessert on your overstuffed stomachs, then you tried to grab the keys away from me attempting to leave the germ-ridden restaurant.  Your father listened to your exaggerated stories of torture, hanging on every word.  Then he quickly hugged each of you and kissed you goodnight, pointing you to your rooms while looking over your heads and smiling AT ME.  Freaking TRAITORS!

See when we go to McDonald’s again!

**UPDATE**

After spending most of the afternoon and early evening yesterday meeting with a plastic surgeon, I wanted to discuss the details with my husband.  What’s the solution, you ask?  Mickey Dees!  DH’s idea, I swear! The girls ate and played (read: created more socks for mommy to toss in the biohazard container outside our house) while DH and I had a semi-private conversation in the family dining area at McDonald’s. *SIGH* What did they eat, you ask? Of course, the nuggets I mentioned earlier.  My sister tells me that chicken have no lips, so that only leaves…well, YOU do the math.

My talented daughters:

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I love you truly, my sweet daughters, and I will forever be your number one fan!  I will scream until my voice is gone at one of your pep rallies (when you are the high school varsity cheerleading captain), or stomp my feet excitedly in the bleachers at your soccer game (you’ll be wearing a cute purple uniform with white letters bearing your name and number).  I’ll even convince your dad to walk you down the aisle (provided the groom is a young man that WE approve of).  I will support you in whatever career you choose for yourself (provided that you are 18 or older and no longer living under my roof).  I will never, however, stand for endless hours – days – waiting in line to get you registered to audition for American Idol, just so you can make a complete idiot of yourself in front of millions of viewers on national television.  I may now tell you kindly that you are talented, even entertaining when you sing, but as you get older, those compliments will be few and far between in regards to your singing talent.  Sure, it’s cute now, but in ten years, it may not be.  I’m just letting you know, now,  girls.  I love you too much to let you embarrass yourself and our family on a national level.

You’ll never believe it!

Another car accident for me yesterday!  Yes, I’m okay – just sore today.  No one else was injured – praise God!  Another car pulled out, blocked the two lanes of traffic in my direction, and I had nowhere to go.  CRASH!  My left bumper/headlight plowed into her front left wheel (broke the axle).  I jumped out to ask the driver if she (and the other two female passengers) were okay.  She was able to tell me that no-one in the car spoke English, but she held up the ‘okay’ sign.  A young man came out of a nearby house to direct traffic until the police showed up (only three minutes, YEAH for Lewisville, Police). The officers on the scene were suspicious of my peaceful and happy attitude after such a bad accident.  I calmly explained that I had been in a serious accident in May 2003  that has given me a whole new perspective.

 The officers took my statement, took her statement (amazing how much English she suddenly learned), took down our insurance info, wrote the other driver a citation, and let us leave. The minivan was not badly damaged.  I lost the left headlight. 

 Y’know what? The minivan was a company car (thank you honey), so all I had to do was return the dinged up minivan and choose another!

I’m so relieved (and SORE).  Another of my daughters has strep as well as my DH, so I’ll be standing in as Nurse Practitioner today.

In lieu of flowers, please make a donation to our Daughters’ College and Wedding Fund! 😉

Resolutions 2007

  1. Resolution :: never kept one
  2. Happy :: Feet
  3. Bubbly :: a warm bath
  4. Kiss :: keep it simple, stupid
  5. Leather :: thigh-high boots
  6. Fancy :: takes more than a microwave to prepare 
  7. Pages :: torn
  8. Stupid :: crazy
  9. Apologize :: forgive
  10. Secrets :: I’ll never tell

I hope everyone has a happy and safe New Year’s. Wishing all the best for you in 2007.