Child Whispering - 101

oh, i neglected forgot to mention the part yesterday, during the butchering job, where nicholas was growling at me and telling me to "call frank" or "i'm telling frank," i can't really remember which statement it was now. because it was yesterday. so when he got home, i told him, in my most mocking and shaking of my head way, "you can go tell frank on me now" - to which, he threw off his coat and bookbag, and ran up the stairs. the 2 of them went to chris and his head is now fixed. he does look much better. so i didn't take the cosmetology class that was offered at boces when i was in high school. so what! and let's face it, if i did, i wouldn't remember anything anyway, now would i? uh, big fat NO!

i have that handy (or so i thought it would be) list of chores on my refiriderwhatever, the food experiment in a cold box. each day, when the girls get home they are to gleefully, skip to the list and find their chore of the day and happily do it. also, there are listed chores with a *, that are to be done twice a week, such as bring your smelly laundry down, AND sort it, if you want it done AT ALL. (i need to interupt this program for just a moment!)

my girls have stupidly decided that although, they are not, repeat, NOT fashion models, they are starting a trend, well just one, not naming names, (cinderisa), so she'll grab like a ridiculous looking trashy too small, for real, TANK TOP(???) and wear it over say, a t-shirt. both too small. but she'll put a zip-hoodie over it on her way out the door, thinking i'll not 'get it' !! cuz i was born yesteryear and all. duh. whatever. so, me being the person who washes and dries AND folds (yippeee) the laundry ( i know, it's exciting here,), i have intercepted the ugliest crap from big white box. let me tell ya, this girl has close to nothing, i mean NU THING to wear anymore. it's getting pretty comical. because the respect is right there with the amount of clothing, and i'm so bored with the whole conversation of " you know, cinderisa, one day, you need to understand that you are not my peer, you are child, i am adult. you need to earn respect." blah blah blah. like no other parent has had THAT chant before. blue IN the face.

then we have the other nameless child, (catmawler) does it never end!!!!!!!!!!! she is my litte ocd in training. she must keep her whites (sneaks) white, her room is always neat and tidy. she even dusted it yesterday. she has a flair for fashion. that is one of her nicknames from frank. but, there is always a but. what is it with tight? i don't get it. she wants to wear capri's already, hey, i understand the idea, but it's not yet that warm! where IS global warming anyway, because it ain't here, that's for sure. still waiting! i am literally sitting here with my warmed-up corn bag heating my freezing cold fingers. and i do this on an all day basis to keep them warm. i'm always cold.

where was i going with all of this stuff??????? right the chore list. perhaps, i should tke a pic!yes, i know, i'm so clever. now getting them to actually go to it, AND do the chores is another thing. i've devised a plan - i'm making nicholas rich. he is actually very good at his chores, he enjoys doing the chore at hand, even doing his sister's stuff. soooooo, i may even pay him to do their stuff when they complain about what they "had to do last time!" what a great idea. cha-ching cha-ching nicholas! oooh ooh ohhhh, i can just see the looks on their mad little faces now. bumma

today, we get to go to the smelly bottle joint, this should get my head reeling, return all of the, mostly ginger-ale bottles and get the boy a prize. i told him, whatever comes back, is his. he's looking at the 5 bags out there like he's cashing in a small car, as in radio-control. and, don't they always look like you're going to get like maybe 10 - 15 big ones? you valiantly, or as in my case, go in with your nose in your shirt, empty the bags, wash hands with clorox wipes, his hands, too, then the purell comes out, gag a few too many times. the eyes well up with water. "wait did you get those 4 bottles that you just dropped?" like they're going to short-change you a big 20 cents and make a profit there. it's really going to screw up your day, right! just get on with it!!! gagging, burying nose now into the armpit, thanking God for secret antiperspirant because it smells so good. "ok, $6.45. have a great day. next" you now have, not only upset stomach, but puzzled look on your face AND anxious, dancing buzzed boy waiting to spend lots of money. not a problem, just think of the looks on the girls faces when you tell them that you dipped into THEIR allowance too! OH YEAH!!!!!!!!! NOW i'm feeling better. this is where the whispering begins.

clever parent that i am, wait, i need to tap a shoulder. better. hey, i feel a need to give credit where it's due and all. right. i'm more of a laid back and sarcastic type. i allow them to fall on their faces in my humor and wit, unless, of course, it requires more"hands on", if you know what i mean.

in my father's house, it was a little more, um, loud! i heard sounds like, the belt buckle coming undone; that thing scared the living hairs off my neck! oh, his footsteps could outrun horses, and loud? let me just tell you, he meant for them to be heard. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! "you just WAIT til I get you kids!" it's funny now thinking about it. or when we were in the car, ticking him off. if he pulled over - man, we were dead meat! i'm not that kind of freak parent. he'd first start swinging his arm around before he'd actually pull over, we'd be ducking and laughing. those were the days

frank, on the other hand; he has a sort of react first kind of thing going on. something happens, and it's not allowed to just sink in. he reacts, with a sort of raging lunatic kind of frustration thing. BLAH AHHHH HOOOO AAHHHH ARRRR WWWWOOOOOFFFFF ARRRRFFFFF GGGRRRUUUUUUFF FFFF RRUUURFF !!!!!!!!!!!!!! and then it's out of his systme and he comes into the real world, thinks about everything, mulls it all over, and all is right again. he will generally apologize where he was wrong, ask for apologies from the accuser, and we all go about our business.

me, i just sort of sit and watch it all unfold. literally. when he has his outburst, i watch. when he's done, i'll go to the office/scrapbook room/mess hall and we'll talk, or i'll lecture as he likes to put it. i like to point out his "strong" points. this after, or afterwards, i'll go to each child and let them know where they were wrong. one of the girls is great at apologies. never ever ever needing to be told, nor should they ever be asked for an apology. it should come natual.

the other girl, refuses to see she is wrong. as it is, the sun does rise and fall on her. what was i thinking?

when they bicker over who did what - nick gets to cash in. today is his day. mine too. i got the flyer for christmas tree shops. and there was this oh, so cute bird house calling my name. it's almost time to start playing in my garden. i hope i can do that this year! i at least have plans to.

oh, i must show you what makes a migraneur like me happy! look what frank brought me home yesterday. i know, i'm a lucky girl! you are going to be so jealous.

this is what i found in his lunch box when i opened it! i screamed with joy. they are earplugs! AHHHHH! i wear them to bed.


there are so many, that my nightstand drawer is overflowing! YEHAW! i have said it before, little things make me happy. this made me happy.

now why and how did that paragraph get down there?

down on the bottom of the list, it states that if they don't do the chore, they lose tv, phone and mp3. well, due to catmawler's unruly brattitude toward littleman, she hasn't had her mp3 since she got it, and, now this is funny, her dad called lastnight and asked if her could have it because tita (her stepmom) could use it. hey, why should it sit around anyway. so yeah, of course she can have it! i mean, i don't know how to program the thing anyway! (idiot) then he asked about her dig cam. well, she's working on losing that, but not yet.

oh, her little friend lost another little g.pig. mr. fuzz died yesterday. so sad. why do we torture ourselves and our kids with pets? why why WHY? when nicholas leaves every other weekend for his dad's house, he hugs his fishbowl. hugs! a fishbowl. "goodbye ozzy, or fuzzyball, whatever it's name is" goodbye ally" (he had to rename the fish due to losing a game of matching spiderman to ally). he's so sweet. so what happens when one of them die? oh yeah, he will be heart broken. I can see the little bugger sobbing over the tidey bowl funeral now. thanks, jamie!

last year when i had to put my shephard down; ugh, thank God, my aunt is my vet, or rather the dogs' vet - she is wonderful. we had to bring rockhead with us to say "goodbye" can you stand it. he licked his face, and laid next to him crying. i cried, frank cried. thea was wonderful. it was TERRIBLE!!!!! when my friend terri had to put zach down, i had to be there with her! and frank, and nicholas. we all cried. it was so sad. i mean, you know you're doing the best thing for the dog. but zachy looked up in her eyes, like to say, "thanks man!" we just lost it right there. thea was there for that, too. for kids, you're supposed to be, what STRONG??? not me, ain't happening. i'm like cream of wheat whenn it comes to my pets. i've had to put too many down, dig holes. cinderisa dug a hole for crying out loud. and yet, we continue to do this to ourselves. and them. for the unconditional love.

yeah, and the idiot still lifts his leg in my basement. but i'm telling you now, come nxt week, when it gets painted, and the week after that, when the carpet gets laid, if he even THINKS of lifting his leg, i'm calling my mexican friend, well, after he recovers. yes, he'll be in recovery first. because he'll have fallen down some stairs or something.

so gayla, when i get cesar here, i'll let you know, girlfriend! oh yeah! mi casa es su casa. hasta manyana baby.