Holding the boys back a year is not an option.
Because this would mean they’d turn 19 during their senior year of high school, repeating kindergarten would make them ineligible to play high school sports their senior year. Granted, they are currently terrible at said sports… Continue reading
I made it through six years at Chaparral Elementary School without being sent to the principal. Destroy made it three weeks.
It didn’t surprise me. I mean, come on, the kid’s name is Destroy. And he does. Continue reading
The phone rang.
I knew that number. It was the muppets’ elementary school. There was nothing good that could come of this in the middle of the day. Continue reading
Do not be fooled.
Let’s get the preliminaries out of the way: geese are assholes.
Yesterday I posted a picture (see above) of the moment just before Destroy got bit by brethren of the aforementioned foul fowl. Here’s the full story. Continue reading
Nana brought a bunch of vintage Transformer toys over. (Toys really were cooler when we were kids.)
In any case, Search and Destroy both have full-blown Transformer fever. The symptoms of which are best represented by constant bickering over which is deemed “the coolest toy” of the moment. Continue reading
This is gonna be the best day of my life
My li-i-i-ife
Oo-o-o-o-oo
This is gonna be the best day of my life
My li-i-i-ife
I’m never gonna look back
Whoa, I’m never gonna give it up
No, please don’t wake me now
“Mommy, I need the music.” It’s a refrain that’s part of our daily routine now. We get in the car, the radio magically bursts into commercial, and Destroy demands music. The moment a song begins playing, Destroy starts in with the questions: “What song is this?” “Who’s singing?” “What’s the band?” “What’s the singers name?”
(FYI – Shout out to Siri here for keeping me in the know, thereby preserving my status as mom with all the answers. Simply press button, ask, “Siri, what song is this?” and point phone.) Continue reading
There is a boy next door the boys have befriended. I was thrilled to find a family lived close to us, as I think it’s an important rite of childhood to run amok with the local youth of the neighborhood.
Both boys were eager for their first play date. “Can we go play with Pacman now?” This was only exacerbated by Pacman’s propensity to roll up to the edge of our driveway on his PowerWheel motorcycle and honk his horn. Continue reading
We still put the boys down to “rest.” Science may say that naps are no longer healthy after the age of 2, but I would like to invite Science to come deal with muppets after a long day and no nap.
(Also, I am 34 and still greatly enjoy naps. So does most of Europe. Suck it Science.)
So this weekend, we once again fought the valiant naptime battle. Continue reading
