Tuba's, Senator's and Nun-chucks

This week has brought much fun and folly to the Sogn-Dewar household.  The kids are getting ready to go back to school and we are in the process of doing all of the fun…err pain in the ass…stuff that comes along with it.  Monday started with middle school registration for Paige.  Paige cannot wait to go back to school but has had much anxiety about entering a new middle school.  She is a perfectionist and is exceedingly organized because of it, and so it was no surprise that she had registration mapped out for us with no help from her parents. 

While we were wrapping up our day at registration, Paige and I stopped to talk to a friend of hers and their parents.  And then it happened…

Gavin comes running up to me…

Gavin:  “Mom!! MOM!!”  (tugging on my arm)
Me:  “What Gavin?!?”
Gavin:  “Come with me…”
Me:  “I’m talking.”

Gavin:  “I need to whisper something.”

I lean down and Gavin whispers: “Dad’s stuck.”
Me:  “Where?”
Gavin:  “Follow me.”

So I politely excuse myself, not letting Paige know that her father is stuck God knows where (hey…middle school is tough enough).  Gavin leads me down the hallway into the orchestra room and there is my ex-husband, STUCK IN THE TUBA LOCKER.         

Me:  “Are you kidding me?!?!?!?”

Ex:  “Can you let me out?”

Me:  “Seriously?”

Ex:  “You’re no fun and you still can’t take a joke.”

Me:  “You’re an idiot who’s stuck in a tuba locker…the jokes on you.”

After receiving a half-assed apology I let my ex out of the tuba cage.  I still have yet to tell Paige that he was stuck in there to begin with as I do not want her to be forever known as “tuba-girl.”

 

*SUPER DUPER FACEPALM*

The rest of the week the kids spent with their dad and I tried to get as much done as I possibly could so that I could enjoy taking advantage of being done at noon today.  When the kids came home yesterday I promised that we would resume school shopping as I had caught up enough to be done and have a free afternoon.  Unfortunately, I got an email last night from a Senator’s office asking me to be available for a call sometime before 5:00 pm today. 

By 1:00 this afternoon, I still had not received the call I was waiting for.  Paige was fine with this as she didn’t wake up until noon, however; Gavin’s attitude was a little different and he engaged me in the following conversation:

Gavin:  “Has he called yet?”
Me:  “Nope.”
Gavin:  “Ugh mooooooooom…does he realize that he is screwing up my mo and my jo?”
Me:  “He’s probably not too concerned with your mo or your jo.”
Gavin:  “Seriously mom?!?!?  It’s not like he’s the President!”

*FACEPALM*

After my phone call FINALLY came in we were ready to venture out for school supplies.  We took a trip to Target and meandered our way through the back to school aisles attempting to get everything on our list in an expedient manner.  All went well and I let the kids each pick something special out for being patient and understanding.  Paige picked out a pair of shorts that I never would have let her get had I not felt so guilty about changing our plans and Gavin got a pair of plastic nun-chucks because he picked up another alter-ego…a ninja.

I had sincere reservations about the nun-chucks but figured he couldn’t do much damage to himself with plastic.  Hmmmmmm…I guess I should have thought that one through.

Gavin twirls the nun-chucks around his head.
Me:  “Ummm…probably not a good idea.”
Gavin clocks himself in the head with the nun chucks.
Gavin:  “Mooooooom, you should have told me that these could hurt me.  They are plastic, but they still hurt.”

Annnnnnnd he proceeds to turn to my friend and say:
Gavin:  “I got a pair of nun chucks and I know how to use them.”
While giving him his best “naughty daddy look.”

*FACEPALM*  

And so there you have it folks: another week in our life.   We are laying low tonight and I am praying to the tuba gods that Paige never finds out about the her dad being locked in the tuba cage and to the ninja gods so that Gavin doesn’t clock himself in the head with his nun-chucks, again.  Happy Friday!!!

Birthing, Turrets (or Tourette's), Moves Like Jagger, Hippies, and Abs!

It has been an exceedingly long time since I have updated this blog.  In March, I took on a VERY full time job on top of my already full time job and was left with little balance.  Five months later, I think that I have finally regained the control in my work life…my home life is still quite different.

A lot has happened since I last blogged, but the one thing that has remained the same is that my tiny humans are still nuts.  And so this installment of Finding Trish begins.

Yesterday was a busy day for us in the Sogn-Dewar household.  We are in the process of finding/buying a house and that has dominated much of our personal time.  Whilst waiting (ever so patiently) for my friend to pick us up to walk through a house Paige decided she wanted to know what giving birth felt like.
Paige: “What was the birth process like?”
Me:  “Where did that come from?”
Paige: “Science class.”
Me: “Well, Paige, it’s a lot like looking for houses.  It seems like a fantastic idea at first, towards the middle you just want it to be over with, it becomes a pain in the ass and FINALLY at the end you have something to show for it.”
Paige:  “Well, this is my perspective… I was Lewis and Clark on a bumpy adventure that ended with me seeing the light when I made my daring escape from your uterus.”

*FACEPALM*

At this point, I know that we are in for some “normal” family time.  When we get to the house that we were viewing, Gavin runs in the door and says to the realtor “Hey baby, I’m home.”

 *FACEPALM*

As we meandered our way through the house, Gavin found the most important room to him…the man cave.
Gavin: “Mom!!  MOM!!! I found the MAN CAVE!!!”
Realtor:  “So, you think that this will be your man cave?”
Gavin:  “Yup…no girls allowed, or the TOURETTES will get them.”
The realtor gives me an inquisitive look.
Me:  “I think you mean turrets, Gavin.”
Realtor:  “What are turrets?”
Gavin:  “The things that shock girls so they can’t enter the man cave!”
Annnnnd the realtor’s inquisitive look quickly shifts to the “are you a family of crazy people look” that we have become so accustomed to.

*FACEPALM*

After attempting to play “normal” while we viewed the rest of the house, it was time to leave…thank god.  We decided on our way home to pick up McDonald’s…and so the fun continued.  Paige has recently been deemed old enough to sit in the front seat of the car and has become the resident DJ.  Paige’s taste in music is normally tolerable, however; she found a bubble-gum-pop-hipster song that tickled her fancy and began to bust a move in the front seat as we pulled up to pay for our meal.

Gavin:  “OMG…and she says I am the embarrassing child?”
Me:   “True and dat.”
Gavin:  “Hey Paige:  you don’t have the mooooooooves like Jagger (in perfect Maroon 5 harmony).”
Guy at McDonalds: “I’m sorry…that is the funniest thing I have heard ALL night.”
And he proceeds to close the drive thru door so he can compose himself.

*FACEPALM*

When we finally get our food and get back on the road Gavin came to the astute conclusion that he was missing his new favorite show.

Gavin: “Mom!  Step on it!  I’m missing Ninjago!”
Me:  “I can’t go any faster; someone is in front of me.”
Gavin peers through the windshield and sees a motorcycle.
Gavin:  “I thought motorcycles were supposed to be FAST.”

And before I know it, Gavin rolls down his window and says:

Gavin: “MOVE IT YOU HIPPIES!”

ANNNNNNNNNNNNND shakes his 9 year-old fist at them.

*FACEPALM*

When we get home, my dear friend Bart stopped by to inquire about the house hunting. 

Paige:  “You are wearing a nice shirt.  You got haircut.  Did you meet a girl?”
Bart: “No.”
Paige: “How are your abs doing?”
Bart: “They are abs of steel!”
Paige pokes Bart in the stomach.
Paige: “Flexible steel, maybe.”

*FACEPALM*

So after birthing, turrets (or tourettes), moves like Jagger, hippies, and abs of steel I hereby solemnly swear to update this blog once a week at a minimum.  This life is too good to keep to myself! J

Resiliency, Imaginary Friends, and One Imaginary Uterus.

After a week of pure anarchy, things have finally started to settle down in the Sogn-Dewar household.  In the past seven days have all had trouble finding our words.  I can’t even begin to imagine the toll that last Monday had on the kids and by Thursday I really questioned whether or not we’d find our balance again.  Everyone kept on telling me that children are resilient and that if I just gave it a little time things would be okay.  I found that hard to believe as my children were walking around like zombies and by the time Thursday rolled around (with a call from the school regarding failing grades during the week and Gavin sucking his thumb) I was about ready to throw my hands in the air and admit defeat,  and then Gavin started to come around.  While driving to school he said to me:

Gavin:  Mom is it okay if I have imaginary friends?
Me:  As long as it is okay that I have an imaginary boyfriend.
Gavin:  Fine…as long as you don’t have any imaginary kids, you’ve got your hands full with us.
Me:  Good Lord!  How am I supposed to have imaginary kids?
Gavin:  With your imaginary uterus.
And then it happened…without even thinking about it, I did a face palm!  EUREKA!  The moment I was waiting for!

And then came the second moment.  I was trying to convince Gavin that he did, indeed, need to go to bed and used common ‘mom logic’ to illustrate my point:

Me:  Gavin, if you don’t go to bed you are going to fall asleep in school.  If you fall asleep in school your teacher is going to send me into space…POW to the moon with mom!
Gavin:  Without a helmet?
Me:  What?
Gavin:  If you go into outer space without a helmet your eyes will pop out.  Just sayin’.
*FACEPALM*

At this point Gavin was obviously on the right track.  Paige, on the other hand, was still sullen and as hard as I tried I just couldn’t snap her out of it.  Enter in Lee Bee.  Lee is a friend of mine who the kids and I consider family…especially Paige.  Lee calls her ‘pajama jeans’ and Paige calls him the ‘greasy Italian’.  After telling the greasy Italian about my inability to get through to Paige he asked that I let him give it a shot.  And so yesterday we went out to eat at Bdubs, Paige’s favorite, and bowling.   It didn’t take long for Lee to break through the wall that she had fortified and by the end of the night she was back to being the Paige that I know and love.  I know that all this stuff will take time and seeing a glimpse of  Paige being herself after this horrendous week meant more to me than words can express.  I am so very thankful to Lee for helping her find her spark again.   

There is something to be said about children being resilient.  There is, also, something to be said about being a parent who does everything in their power never to test the resiliency of their children.  For now, life is slowly becoming normal, our normal.  I crave the laughter and crazy experiments and I know that it will take time…but all that I have said tonight is a start.  We can only go up from here.

Caustic Material, Batman and Dishes on Fire.

After much traveling this past week I returned home to my fabulous tiny humans and regained the madness.  I dropped my bags, hugged the little buggers and was immediately bombarded with food requests…mainly McDonald’s and Chinese takeout.  Much to the chagrin of my children, I told them that I would be cooking because I was too tired to go to McDonald’s and too hungry to wait for takeout.  After an “oh man!” from Gavin and a “get the fire extinguisher ready” from Paige I set forth to make Sogn-Dewar comfort food, macaroni and cheese with hotdogs.

I turned on the music and became Betty Crocker.  After making my delectable meal in heavenly silence I realized that I had just made a whole meal in heavenly silence and began to become afraid…very, very afraid.  I walked down the hall and knocked on Paige’s door:
Me:  “Paige, what are you doing?”
Paige:  “Watching the best hockey fights of all time on Youtube and perfecting my recipe for earth friendly biodegradable plastic.”
Me:  “Please don’t play with caustic materials in your bedroom it’s unsanitary.”
Paige:  “I don’t have anything caustic, ergo the earth friendly part…duh!!!!!!!!!!!”
Unfortunately this seemed quite reasonable to me.

I then heard a voice from the bathroom singing....
Gavin: “Nahnahnahnahnahnahnah, BATMAN!  BATMAN!  Nahnahnahnahnahnahnah, BATMAN! BATMAN!”
Me:  “Gavin, what are you doing?”
Gavin:  “Ummmmmm….nofing??”
Me:  “Open the door.”
Gavin:  “Grrrrr…fine.”
Gavin very slowly open the door and peered out.  At that moment I saw that he had taken a marker and drew all over his face.
Me:  “What the—are you KIDDING me?”
Gavin (who was dressed in black from head to toe):  “I am BATMAN!”
Me:  “I see that.  How are you going to get that off?”
Gavin:  “Ummm…I didn’t fink about that.”
The strange part about this whole situation is that my second thought (after how are you going to get that off) was ‘when did you add another alter-ego’?  I didn’t have any time to question Gavin as the fire alarms started to blare through our apartment…again.

Meanwhile in the kitchen...
I had remembered to take the macaroni and cheese with hot dogs off the hot burner, but in my startling realization that my house was quiet I had set a plate on the burner which was still on high.  I learned last night that:
A.  Corelle dishes ARE destructible as they will start on fire if you leave them on a hot burner still turned on high.
B.  You probably should use a potholder to remove said Corelle dishes, even after you put the fire out, as they will remain hot for quite some time after they start on fire.

But, I digress.

Fast-forward to today.  I get home from work and am greeted by a VERY affectionate 8 year old dressed as Sonic the Werehog (a much welcomed alter ego tonight). 
Me:  “That’s a nice way to come home.”
Gavin:  “I love you infinity.”
Me:  “What did you do?”
Gavin:  “Ummm…I forgot to wear my socks to school.”
Me:  “I made you put them on this morning.”
Gavin:  “I took them off when you were looking for your keys.”
Me:  “Why?”
Gavin:  “Werehogs don’t need socks!”
Are you kidding me???

Five minutes after explaining to Gavin that he needs to wear socks to school; I received a call from Gavin’s teacher.  After a friendly exchange of ‘how are you’ and ‘how ‘bout that weather’ Gavin’s teacher expressed concern over his lack of socks AND the black eye that he has (remnants of the marker face paint job he did to himself).  I explained the whole situation to her, the alter egos, the black marker, lack of socks, et al.  After a few moments of very uncomfortable silence she burst out laughing and said, “I think you’ve got your hands full with those two kids!” 

So, after dodging a call to social services, dealing with caustic materials (or lack thereof), a new alter ego, marker face paint jobs, no socks, and a call from the school; I am exhausted and am going to fill the rest of the night with whatever mindless rubbish is on TV tonight.

No need to post a score tonight as it is very evident who won this one.

Red Chuck Taylor's and Comitutes....Happy Day Off Trish!!!

This morning I fortunately did not awake to a horrendous smell.  Instead, I had an eight year-old boy convinced he is Sonic the Hedgehog needing new shoes.  After spending two hours giving Gavin reasons why spray painting shoes and adding white buckles to them is a BAD idea he finally committed to looking for a red pair of shoes. 

After an exhaustive internet search we found a pair of red Chuck Taylor’s that Gavin deemed perfect!  Any other person would see this to be an ideal situation as we had found the perfect pair of shoes before we left the house, however; there is a back-story…and here it is:

I am a hardcore Chuck Taylor enthusiast.  I have a broad collection of those fabulous shoes that I began collecting at the age of 15.  When I bore the fruit of my loins I was sure that they would LOVE Chuckie T’s as much as I do…boy, was I wrong.  Paige, a girl after my own heart, loved them; Gavin did not.  When Gavin was a year and a half he FINALLY started walking and needed shoes.  I bought him his very first pair of Chuckie T’s, red, and couldn’t wait for him to take on the world.  Unfortunately, he HATED the Chuck T’s!  One day I was looking for his shoes and couldn’t find them.  That very same day, the toilet stopped working.  I didn’t know then that the two incidents coincided…. 

After searching for the missing red Chuck I decided I had bigger fish to fry, mainly the toilet that wouldn’t flush.  My ex-husband decided to snake the toilet and alas found the missing Chuck Taylor…or at least part of a shoelace.  After having to replace the toilet we found the Chuckie T and vowed never to buy them for Gavin again...until today. 

We went to FIVE shoe stores to find red Chuck’s.  When we finally found them, heaven shone a light upon the fabulous shoes much like Dorothy’s ruby slippers in the Wizard of Oz and I saw a smile on the face of Gavin/Sonic the Hedgehog like I haven’t seen in forever. 

Score 1 for mom!!!!

I have to admit, there was a sense of pride that I had as I brought Gavin home to show Paige his new shoes, until…

Paige: “What do you call people who sell themselves?”                                             Me: “Um…prostitutes?”
Paige: “I wanna be one!”
Me: “WHAT?!?!?!”
Paige: “NO!  A comitute, you know, a comedian!”
Me: (face palm): “What happened to the inventitute?”
Paige: “I got fired because my boss didn’t like the smell!”

Score
Tiny Humans 1,000,000,000
Me 1                                                       

Biodegradable Earth Friendly Plastic and White Gloves...SUNDAY FUNDAY!

I awoke this fine Sunday morning to a HORRENDOUS smell emanating from my kitchen.  As I meandered my way from my bedroom and slowly unzombified myself from my restful night's slumber I saw Paige hunkered over the stove working feverishly on a new "experiment." 
Me:  "What is that AWFUL smell?"
Paige:  "Earth friendly biodegradable plastic."
Me:  "Seriously?!?!?  At 8:00 in the morning?  What the heck is that made out of?
Paige:  "Cornstarch, vinegar, water and vanilla to make it smell better."
And I slap my forehead because I can think of nothing else to do.

The kids returned from three nights at their dad's house last evening and, I must admit, I forget how active they are when they are gone. They came back with a vengenace this time and the biodegradable earth friendly pastic was just the beginning...

My brother FINALLY popped the question to his girlfriend of five years which is something that I have been waiting for for the past four years.  Christine (my fabulous future-but-really-has-been-a-sister-in-law-for-four-years) asked me to accompany her, Cindo (my mother), my sister, and niece to the Bridal Show at the Civic Center today.  I accepted with glee as I am so happy to be a part of their day, but did mention that my tiny humans would be coming with.  Christine loves kids and had no problem with them being a part of the day. 

When I told the kids that we were venturing out for the day, they were elated to be able to do "big kid" things and agreed to get ready without any prompting from me.  I was overjoyed by the prospect of not having to crack the whip to get them ready, that is, until I saw what Gavin was wearing...

Gavin is just as creative as his sister but in a techie sort of way.  He loves video games and alternates between his alter-egos, "Mario", "Luigi", "Sonic the Hedgehog", and "Sonic the Werehog."  Today he decided that he, most definitley, is Sonic the Werehog; blue shirt and WHITE GLOVES et. al.  I tried to convince him that maybe the white gloves were a bit too much for such an occasion...to no avail. 
Me:  "Maybe we should leave the gloves in the car."
Gavin:  "SERIOUSLY?!?!?!?  I can't do that, mom.  I am a Werehog today.  All good Werehog's must wear their white gloves."
Me:  "Of coarse, silly me!  What was I thinking?"
Gavin:  "Heck if I know!"
And I slap my forehead because I can think of nothing else to do.

As you can imagine, the kids and I being in public is much like watching bulls in a china shop.  I am quite sure that we are all equal parts embarassing to those who have the pleasure of venturing out with us.  After looking at many booths we came across the Allen Evans bridal booth that had many lovely dresses.  An overly eager saleswoman made a bridal fair faux pas by not looking at the very important finger before she asked me:
Over Eager Saleswoman:  "When is the big day?"
Me:  "Just got divorced.  Happily.  Do you have a dress for that?"
And Cindo slaps her forehead because she can think of nothing else to do.

You would think that there really isn't much more trouble that we could get into...WRONG!  As we hit the lower level for some more wedding fantasticness we met the one and only Jonny Handsome...DJ extrodinaire (Hawiian shirt included).  Gavin and Pagie immediately ditched their jackets and started to bust a move much to the delight of Jonny Handsome and complete strangers...see video...

Unfortunately for me, and maybe fortunately for Gav, I missed the part were he got on the floor and did a break dance routine circa 1980. Jonny asked for me to send him this video and may get the gig because the tiny humans didn't freak him out, which means he can met the rest of us.

And so after a long day of good times with great people, we ventured home.  The house still reeks of biodegradable earth friendly plastic and Gavin is tugging on my arm because it is time for him to go to the hill and howl at the moon (seriously...when he is a werehog, this has to be done).
And I slap my forehead because there isn't anything else that I would rather do.

D.A.R.E. Graduation and the Harrison Act...Meet Paige!

Last night Paige graduated from D.A.R.E., a rite of passage that many of us have had the pleasure of participating in, however; her graduation almost didn't happen.  Every D.A.R.E. student is asked to write an essay about what they learned throughout their time in D.A.R.E. Paige, viewed the assignment a different way and decided to question what she didn't learn.  

Paige is, by nature, the type of child who questions EVERYTHING.  I love that about her.  She is not complacent in what she is told, she needs to know 'why.'  While watching a show regarding drugs in America on the History Channel she became acutely aware that she really didn't know the whole truth about the drug culture that she will face in the upcoming years.  When it came time to write her essay she did her research.  I should have known that the gears in her head were grinding when she asked me about the Harrison Act...and so it started.

I guess it didn't strike me as odd when she asked me to tell her my thoughts on the Harrison Act as Paige went through a phase this past spring where she was obsessed with strange laws and could repeat them whenever it fancied her mood.  I am not big on imparting my viewpoints on my children, I am the type of parent who really wants them to find their own way in life and stand firmly in what they believe...so I told her to look it up, but not to use Wikipedia.

A couple of weeks later I received a call from Paige's teacher regarding her essay.  I will save you from the boring details and get to the heart of the matter as this is a long story...to put it in a nutshell Paige prefaced her essay by saying that she 'would never do drugs because she wants to do big things in life' but continued with questions regarding what she was taught in D.A.R.E., specifically, why she wasn't taught about prescription drug abuse and methamphetamine.  She continued her thoughts by explaining that marijuana is illegal because, and I quote:

"of a poorly written law that was enacted to prevent black men from raping white women (which BTW is so totally racist) and to prevent the hemp industry from taking over the timber industry."

I probably should have been horrified, but to tell you the truth, I have never been so proud of her in my life.  I know that Paige will do AMAZING things in life and that I have been entrusted to guide her into adulthood.  So, whatever it is that she decides to do...right now she aspires to be a "paleontologist, geologist, physicist, rockstar, lawyer", I know that she is going to be fine and that is all a parent can hope for. 

CONGRATULATIONS PAIGE!!

Ketchup Hot Dish Part II

After a busy weekend with the kids I decided that Sunday would be left over day in the Sogn-Dewar household.  I should have known better... I reheated the ketchup hotdish and implored my children to belly up to the kitchen table for round two of the delectable meal that almost caused a fire the night before.  Immediately Paige rolled her eyes and Gavin pouted as he looked at the heaping mound of "yumminess" that taunted him from the dinning room table.  And so it started;

Gavin:  "Can I eat this in my room?'
Me:  "No, we are all going to eat together at the table."
Gavin:  "I need to go to the bathroom."
Me:  "Have at it."

Gavin grabbed his plate and ran like a madman into the bathroom before I could catch him.

Me:  "Gav!  Don't eat your dinner in the bathroom, that is disgusting."
Gavin:  "I need something to do while I am in here!"

I argued with him for a few minutes before I threw my hands in the air and gave up.  And then I heard the toilet flush, and flush again and flush a third time.  When Gavin finally came out of the bathroom he brought his empty plate and set it in the sink.  So, I asked questions that any normal parent would ask...

Me:  "Gavin, did you flush your dinner down the toilet?"
Gavin:  "Ummmmmm....nooooooooooo??"

I channel my inner Melinda Dillon circa 'A Christmas Story' and say;
Me:  "You know, there are starving people in China who would kill for ketchup hot dish!"
Gavin:  "Well, send it to them.  The toilet wouldn't even eat it!"
Paige:  "It would be a good punishment for all the pollution that China causes."

Tiny Humans 1
Mom 0

The Nut House

I have decided to start writing this blog for numerous reasons, mostly because I have run out of room in my children's baby books to write any more about the crazy, albeit funny, things that they do.  I have often likened my home life to living in a nuthouse.  Anyone who has spent any time at my home would concur that as soon as one crosses the threshold into my home sanity is lacking.  I have spent this Saturday night being berated about my cooking, convincing Gavin that he is NOT a werewolf and trying to understand the "mood transporter" that Paige has created with duct tape. 
As I was getting ready to shut things down for the night, Paige came running through the living room with two bottles of air freshener and declared that she has created the next exercise craze:  "air freshener aerobics."  I shook my head and declared..."henceforth you will now be blogged about, fair warning!"  I sat back and was thinking of a good title for this blog when Paige said to me, "Just remember mom, this is just a chapter in our crazy book of life, we are all just trying to find ourselves."  Voila!!!  A perfect title, Finding Trish.  And so it begins, this is our story...