if i ran a Parenting School

there are many, many things that i would have in the curriculum:
Manners 101
Kindness 102
Honesty 103
How To Keep All The Things Clean 104
Communicating with Tiny Humans 101
How to Take a Deep Breath 405
Learning to Live without Naps 743
you get the gist. . . 

i was reminded of one would-be-class earlier this week. 
Prepping Class Projects 101
i am not yet sure if this should be a single class, or an entire course. 
suffice it to say, this mom could at least benefit from a workshop on "Shoebox Decorating."
because either bern or i find ourselves doing this at least twice a year. 
and each time i am reminded that, though i can wrap a lovely gift for the holidays, there are nuances to shoeboxes that i just can't conquer. 

this week, we needed to prep a box for benny's class, and i was excited to see that we actually had a few tucked away in our closets. 
(new parent? start saving these now.)
and then i was instantly saddened when i realized that ALL of them had attached lids. 
i am sure this is a huge improvement for people working in the shoe industry, as the battle to keep lids on all the boxes must be ongoing. 
however, for me, it just resulted in this: 

and some of this. 

and then negotiating the proper amount of paper to cover the whole box, not be saggy, and still not be too tight for the box to actually close. 
the answer, without fail, to each dilemma? 

apply.

more.

tape.

at long last, i managed to assemble a somewhat respectable product. 

then it was time for benny to decorate. 

he was supposed to decorate the outside of the box, without putting his name on it, so that kids in the class could guess whose it was. 

then fill it with little treasures for Show & Tell. 

these are benny's favorite things. 

as of 7:00pm on tuesday, august 26, 2014. 

pokemon.

pokemon.

those are three swords in black, green and red. (it's upside down for the top.)

and...5 ice cream cones. 

the kid really does love his ice cream. 

on the side, he drew our family. 

apparently i was having a really bad hair day. 

when i asked him if was going to draw our pup, Rocky, he sat quietly for a moment. 

then he declined. 

he thought that would be too complicated. 

so he threw in another ice cream cone for good merit. 

of this i am confident...

. . . i am raising boys who will shut the door when they enter a single-person restroom.

instead of, perhaps, someday being college students who leave the door 3/4 open.
while piddling.
in a restroom that opens to a public hallway.
a hallway, in fact, of offices.
perhaps i should mention. . . said restroom is DIRECTLY across from a person's office.
in which they are sitting.
at their desk.
facing said open restroom door.

i guess the good thing is that, today, i was not the person sitting in the office the whole time.
(officially and forevermore this office shall be known as the "room with a view.")
the not-so-good thing is that i was the one who walked into the seemingly-open-but-definitely-in-use restroom.

there are days when i wonder if, during the mayhem and madness of our lives, i am doing my best to raise these amazing boys of ours.
and then something like this happens.
and i know that, if nothing else, i taught them to shut the restroom door.
little victories.

darn you, logic

these days, anth is quick to cite the Golden Rule.
overall, we find this to be a positive thing.

tonight we ran into a snag.
i ran to grab a washcloth and walked back into the restroom while the boys were getting ready to brush their teeth.
benny was in the process of running out the door crying.
anth was in the process of avoiding eye contact with me.
when i finally managed to get a full report of what happened, i determined that benny had smacked anth in the rear, and anth had, in turn, squeezed his arm.

the boys were both sent to individual spots to sit and think about their choices.
as expected, they went to these places and thought about when they could stop sitting there.
when i went in to process with anthony, he was adamant.
"mom! benny hurt me, so i returned the favor! i treated him like he treated me!"
pause.
then, as though this would make it all better,  "i was using the Golden Rule!"

i mean, he had a point.
not one i could condone, but i did kind of give him two silent points for thinking on his feet.

update: cookie "carma"

just a note on parenting. 
or perhaps just being human. 
if you ARE going to be the kind of person who faces a Thin Mint shortage, and chooses to stash a roll in your car for work...
on a day that it is 78 degrees outside...
in march...
in ohio...


perhaps taking them out of the car when you get to work would be a good option. 
just maybe. 


unless, of course, you were hoping to enjoy a frozen Thin Mint log tonight. 
with your son.
you know. . . the one you were essentially hiding the cookies from in the first place. 
because, odds are, he will be the one to find the melted cookie roll in the car when you pick him up after daycare. 


just some points to ponder. 
clearly, this is all hypothetical. . .

benny on quality parenting

during the week of valentine's day, the following assignment appeared on the walls of ben's classroom. 

the topic was "what is love?"

the kids wrote cute things like, "love is the people who are in my heart," and "love is my friends."

(note on me: my brain instantly went the route of Erich Segal to "love means never having to say your sorry." this is what happens when you steal books off of your mom's shelf in high school.)

(note on my note: if you have no idea what i'm talking about, you are missing out on an outstanding feel-good book/movie.)

anyway. 

i digress. 

the place was the wall in benny's classroom. 

the question was, "what is love?"

benny's answer was this: 

fortunately, he has some birthday gifts coming soon...

why i am not technically a person

today, i recieved this request in an email from Benny's pre-school teacher:

Our classroom friends have started showing some interest in what moms and dads do at work all day and what they could possibly do when they grow up. Starting next week we will be discussing jobs that grown-ups have and what they do at their jobs. If you have any interesting brochures/books or props (syringes, scrubs, construction tools, old or broken cameras, etc.) to enhance our dramatic play area that you would be willing to share for a few weeks it would be much appreciated. Thanks in advance and have a wonderful weekend!!!!

this made me laugh.

mainly because i have spent a good portion of my career trying to explain what my career actually is.

maybe a room full of 3-year-olds will understand. . .

this also made me laugh because of something ben said last night that reminded me of an earlier iteration of this same career dilemma.

i did my undergrad at University of California, Irvine.

while i was there, i served as an RA.

my RA friends and i would joke that we just needed nametags that said, "RA," our "your RA," or "the RA," or "my RA," depending on the occasion. 

generally, once we started working, that was the only way we were ever introduced.

if we were in the lobby with our residents, and a friend or parent walked in, they would go around the room and do introductions.

"this is Kari and this is Katie and this is Joy," and they would point to me and say, "and this is my RA."

if i knocked on the door during an incident, we were to identify ourselves as staff.

"hey, i'm an RA, please open up."

if students were doing something ill-advised, you would hear, "shhh! the RA is coming."

of course, the students actually knew my name.

but most of the time in this particular role, the title trumps one's name.

i'm sure staff of all walks of life have been part of this phenomenon.

this brings me to last night.

we had just been through the usual brushing of teeth, reading of books, and re-arranging of blankets.

i had snuggled in with ben to trace his face, and we were chatting about silly things.

i made some statement to the effect of, "mommy being a silly person."

ben stopped what he was doing and put his arms around my neck.

as always, my hair was in the way, so he spent a moment or two rearranging it so that he could whisper in my ear.

"you're not a person, mommy. you're my mom."

RUM-pum-pum-pum

we will be embarking on Christmas Eve activities shortly. 
thus, an earlier post than usual!
yay!!


i grew up in a house with parents who appreciate eating healthy foods. 
no soda, not too much sugar, lots of homemade food, etc. 
and my little sister was allergic to dairy and glutens and had to bring her own buns to McDonald's/have apple juice in her rice puff cereal, etc. 
(needless to say, when i went off to college, i might have been a bit ridiculous that quarter in the cafeteria.)
but, because of this healthy eating, my mom's holiday parties always stood out as havens of sugar and other unusual goodies. 


back then, i also had a healthy fascinating with office supplies. 
much like i do today. 
as in, i can't enter Target without at least passing through the pen aisle. 
i limit my trips into Staples and Office Max. 
Papyrus? i literally salivate. 
you get the picture. 
except back then, my fascination centered on cute erasers, pencils, and other Hello Kitty goodies. 
i had a small, purple pencil case that i believe had penguins on it. 
inside, it had a tray that could be removed to create two tiers of storage. 


it was inside this very tray that i used to steal little round cookies from my mom's holiday party and stow them away in my room. 
where i would eat one at night at bedtime. 
after i had brushed my teeth. 
ah, rebellion. 
it wasn't until years later that i found out that my favorite holiday treat at the age of 8 was, in fact, Rum Balls. 
yep, i was secretly stashing rum infused treats in my room and consuming them alone at night as a child. 
hmm.


(now, i recently found out that my grandmother once found my mom walking around the aftermath of a holiday party drinking the remains out of people's wine glasses. also fabulous.)


anyway, this year, i decided to make rum balls for the holidays. 
for nostalgia.
and, benny, being the little chef that he is, asked to join me in the kitchen. 
and, being the Parent of the Year that i am, i said, "of course you can join me in making alcoholic treats that you cannot consume, honey. how fun for you."
(note, for the sarcastically-uninclined, i did NOT actually say that to my 3-year-old. i probably said "go pull up a chair.")


benny's job is to pour in ingredients and stir. 
at one point while we were measuring ingredients, i looked over at the recipe and he leaned in with me as well. 
i had already seen what i needed, but he was still peeking at the little card. 
i asked him, "what does it say i need to add next, benny?"
he looked at it for a minute, and then whipped his head around to look at me. 
wide-eyed and slightly panicked, he yelled, "oh no, mommy! i think i forgot how to read!"


Happy Christmas Eve!!!

feel the magic

this weekend, i wrapped presents.
approximately 6 hours worth of presents.
exactly 3 Lifetime Christmas movies worth of presents.

we started while the boys were napping, but clearly, no child naps this long.
as such, bern took over child-distraction-duties while i chugged along in the basement.
we told the boys that mommy was working on some "Christmas magic" in the basement.

anth, being anth, understood that the "magic" was the secret of not knowing what their presents were.
he begged me to tell him what just one present was.
i refused.
he pouted accordingly.

benny, being benny, wanted in on the Christmas magic.
as such, he kept trying to get into the basement.
the stairs down to our basement have a giant opening on one side, so if he went any more then two steps down, he would be able to see all of the "magic."
so, bern kept him away from the door. 
except for one time, when i had to dash up the stairs as i heard the door opening in conjunction with benny's voice coming down the stairs. 
this resulted in me essentially tackling a three year old at the top of a staircase with a very small landing. 
awesome. 
if you had been there, you would have seen me laying on top of Benny, with both of our heads barely sticking out of the doorway leading to the basement.
and benny stretching his legs as far into the basement as he could yelling, "i can feel the magic with my toes! i have magic on my toes! i can fly!"

he then stood up and walked into the living room.
and did not, for your information, take off in flight.
surprisingly, this did not upset him all that much.
he looked at us, shrugged his shoulders, and still completely giddy, said, "it's not enough magic to fly, but my toes feel tingly."
realistically, his feet probably were tingling.
because he lost circulation from his adult-sized mother pinning down his pint-sized person.
but sometimes, belief is a beautiful thing.

mom's are SO embarassing

recently, ben has taken to giving what he calls "monkey hugs."
this involves him wrapping his arms around your neck and his legs around your torso. 
and much clinging. 
you could essentially walk around the house and go about your chores with both hands and he would be there for a significant amount of time. 


tonight, we had dinner in the oven and it was going to take a bit. 
while bern managed dinner and packing lunches, i ran the boys upstairs to give them a bath.
after, i got benny into his pajamas and was about to towel off his hair when he hopped in for a "monkey hug."
i told him he was sweet and that i loved him. 
he told me i couldn't say this. 
so, as he glued himself in place, i toweled off his hair and said, "i love you i love you i love you i love you..." 
(it was the mature thing to do.)


ben, still clinging on with one hand, unwrapped his other one to put it on my collarbone and look me in the eyes.
"stop saying that mommy. it's just awk-wood."


i have no idea who taught my 3-year-old how to properly use "awkward" in this kind of setting. 
but i imagine it is only the start of me receiving this kind of feedback from my little man. 
and so it has begun. . .

what i said vs. what he heard...

first, thank you very much to alice for taking care of a sick version of benny, Thor hammer and all, today so that i could attend an event on campus. 
i apologize. 


because i had benny with me today, i left work early, and we picked up anth shortly after he got out of school. 
as we were driving home, someone almost drove into the side of our car. 
(for real.)
(i need to clarify because folks who have driven with me know that i eternally think that someone is about to swerve into our lane.)
(this person, in fact, was driving out of her lane in a parking lot and into lane i was in.)
(with her head stuck in her purse that was apparently on the floor of the passenger side of her car.)
(to this, i say, at least put it on your passenger seat, lady.)
(sheesh.)


anyway. 
Woman With Head Closer To Floor Of Car Than Windshield almost drove into us. 
i swerved to miss her. 
and then i said, "freaking poop!"
(harsh, i know. it's shocking it was not worse.)
eternal rule abider, anth, scolded me.
"mom! if you are going to use bathroom words, i will start using them, too."
i apologized. 
then i told anth i didn't think he would do that because he was a good boy and was smart enough to know that he could choose to follow rules even when other people forget. 
he looked at me in the rear view mirror with sadness. 
"mom. do you realize you kind of just told me that you aren't a good girl and you aren't very smart?"


now i do, sweet boy.
now i do.

failure to communicate

remember that time? 
you know. . .
the one when my friend from work came over?
and she brought her precious little girl so we could cook dinner for our kids and let them watch a movie together?
and anth had just gotten his new pumpkin carving kit for this year?
(yes, like 45 weeks early, i know. he's like his mother.)
and his friend wanted to see his pumpkin carving kit, which was still perfectly wrapped and unopened?
and because it was new, and therefore precious to him, he didn't want to share?
and i was thinking, the darn thing is still in it's packaging, so what harm could it be?
so, i, trying to be helpful, told him, in front of his sweet female friend, "oh my goodness anthony. would you please just let her touch your package?"
and my friend and i started laughing?
and i was laughing so hard that i was crying?
and poor anthony and his friend didn't understand what was funny?
and, worse, didn't understand why we wouldn't tell them what was hilarious?
yes, that time.
that was awesome.
it was a proud moment for me. 


i tell you, someone out there really needs to start writing my Parent of the Year recommendation letter. 
i'm full of gems like this. 

self-regulation. on steroids.

in our house, the staircase is used as the time-out space.
if the boys earned frequent staircase miles, they would be able to visit grandma and grandpa on the west coast by now.
or at least have a highly respectable collection of magazines from their stray point collection.


anyway.
the boys know that, when they have been asked to go to the staircase, they have officially gone beyond the limits of what we consider acceptable behavior.
anth usually wanders over sullenly.
ben protests, often extending his stay on the stairs, but eventually makes his way there.
he tends to find great joy in shifting about the stairs.
as long as he is somewhere between step 1 and 15, bern and i generally choose not to split hairs on that one.


recently, the sibling rivalry has ramped up a bit between the boys.
there are two main reasons for this.
the first is that anth's toys are becoming increasingly cooler to ben.
the second is that they have learned how to antagonize one another via poking-but-not-necessarily-hitting maneuvers.
as you might imagine, these tend to quickly escalate into i'm-not-so-much-poking-you-as-actually-hitting-you moments.

anth, being the rule-abiding peanut that he is, has also been trying to help benny understand the rules of the house.
sometimes, perhaps too emphatically.
bern and i have been trying to help him see himself as a coach for his little brother, rather than a disciplinarian.

recently, i was in the kitchen making dinner and the boys were playing in the family room.
i heard a bit of a volume increase in their activity, so i popped out to see what was going on.
i came out to find benny sitting happily on the couch, and anth sitting at the bottom of the stairs with his head in his hands.
i went to ask him what happened and he looked up, and said, "i yelled at my brother. so i feel like i'm in trouble."

the kid put himself on the stairs.
i let him decide how long he felt he needed to be there, and explained he didn't need to be so tough on himself.
and that it was okay to just let mommy and daddy be the mommy and daddy.
(and that he probably didn't need to find the nearest stairwell at school should he feel that he made an error in judgment in his new 1st grade classroom.)

fight songs are confusing - part 2

Story #2: Anth Interprets an Ohio State Fight Song.

at the top of each month, we go out to dinner as a family.
this month, we went to Uno Chicago Grill for some deep dish.
yum.
on our way in, i was telling bernie about Story #1 (see below)
at this point, anth starts singing "I Wanna Go Back" with quite a bit of moxy.
when he got to the lyric, "and when we win the game, we'll buy a keg of booze," out came the following:
"and when we win the game, we'll buy a kangaroo!"

i laughed.
and then i stopped laughing.
because i realized he was serious.
he legitimately thinks that when Buckeyes win football games, the appropriate response is to purchase a marsupial.

and here is where day two of "krystyne questions her parental decision making" came into play.
i looked at bern.
and i could tell we both kind of wanted to correct him.
in the end, we didn't.
but just barely.

lessons from my diaper bag

this title may make it sound like this post will be all deep and meaningful.
perhaps about what I learned during the time the boys were still in diapers.


NOPE.


i mean, i could happily write pages on that topic.
just not today.
today is a little more. . . simple.
what was the essential tidbit learned from carrying I diaper bag for a combined 2.5 years?


i am a one bag girl.
i simply can't manage two bags with any semblance of grace or organization.
physically or mentally.


my hallway colleagues would probably raise an eyebrow at this statement as i often walk in carrying upwards of three bags.
work, lunch, change of clothes if there is something casual that evening, and the other things bag.
but, the rest of the time i just can't do it.


so, recently, when Amanda of kevinandamanda.com shared this post on her new camera bag, my heart fluttered.
literally.
i held my breath looking at the pictures.
this was the answer to my problem.
i really love my "fancy camera" bern gave me for christmas.
i really don't love carrying a camera bag with a purse.
this bag does it all.
it has movable compartments, a space for a laptop/iPad/books, and a million and 9 compartments. give or take a million.
i love a bag with multiple compartments.
and?
it. is. lined. in. orange.


(i just got back from a 10 day trip visiting my family in southern california. 
many photos and posts to come about that one. 
but, i have to say, this bag was brilliant in every way i hoped it would be and it made navigating the airport with all of my not-so-necessities a breeze!)


oh.
there was one other thing i learned from my diaper bag.
it is highly worth the investment of 2 seconds to ensure you properly capped your butt paste before tossing it in your bag. 
trust me. 

peer pressure? not my kid.

okay.
just to clarify.
i don't actually believe that i have implemented some unique parenting method different than the next person's that will make my thoughts somehow more relevant than the boys' peers in the future.
just to be clear.


but, as much as i know that there is a reality to the influence of others on my little men, my eldest gave me a little glimpse of hope last week.
you see, anth's sports camp has theme days on fridays.
July 15 was Harry Potter Day, in celebration of the release of the last of the movies.
(ugh. still haven't seen it. which is sad. but at least i'm still looking forward to it?)

here is anth showing off the wand he made at Camp Recky.
nope, no feather inside.
also - the Crayola Washable Markers they used on his face?
easily wash off of cloth, not flesh.
oops.


anyway, in the spirit of all things Potter, the camp counselors brewed up a batch of butterbeer to serve to the kids.
they told the kids the ingredients, which according to anth, involved things such as "butter, honey, and beer."
anth, follower-of-all-rules, vehemently refused to drink the concoction.
becuase, yes, it had beer in it.
and beer is not for kids.
anth relayed this story back to us that evening. bern heard it first.
he sent anth to me, and anth began by saying that daddy said he could have two stickers tonight.

sidenote:
the boys have suddenly started to be a raging hot mess about eating their dinners.
now, they've always been. . . easily distracted.
but it's getting worse.
so we reverted to the logical option for parenting technique on this one.
stickers.
low and behold, the kids will eat whatever we serve them to get one.
(kelly and i actually found a cute little set of Peanuts stickers that go along a little path.)
anyway, they typically get one sticker for each day they eat well.
it's going to take them a while to complete their little sticker path, so bern and i have yet to figure out what exactly the reward will be.
right now the boys are gunning for Captain America shields from Target.
if they will eat their veggies in order to get a seven dollar frisbee with a star and handle on it, i'm all for it.

back to the beer.
anth started it out his story by saying "one of my favorite counselors tried to sneak me beer today."
you can imagine my initial thoughts on this.
i asked for a bit more information.
anth explained that he articulated the fact that beer is not for kids to the camp counselor.
(my words. not his)
the camp counselor clearly tried to explain to him that it was, in fact, root beer he was being offered.
now, in the savvy home, the kids don't get soda.
ever.
so anth really wouldn't know that root beer is not equivalent to an adult beverage.
anth again explained that his parents don't let him drink beer.
according to anth, the counselor said he could just "sneak it" while he was at camp and it would be okay.
now, anth has a knack for adding some flair to stories, so this may not have been exactly what the counselor said.
i imagine he was trying to convince anth to live a little and enjoy the offering.
at least that's what i'm hoping.
anth stood his sweet little ground and refused to drink the forbidden substance.

i did ask him if the other kids drank the butter beer.
he said that, yes, pretty much all of them did.
(which makes me wonder what exactly he thought was going on around him if he believed his sports campers were all being given "adult beverages" by their counselors.)

now, bless his sweet heart, i appreciate that the rules we have taught him are portable.
but i am also a bit sad that the kid didn't get to have a glass of stinking butterbeer.
becuase it's really kind of cute that they did that for the kids.
but, i'm also quite proud of my little man.
i declared it a three sticker day. 

what we've got here is...

recently, bernie has suggested that i take a slightly more stern approach in disciplining the boys. 
this is not as dramatic is it might sound. 
bernie regularly employs the sit-on-the-stairs maneuver. 
i gravitate more toward the "take deep breaths" and "talk it out" tactics. 
less so toward the time-outs and go-to-your-rooms. 
this is largely because when i put ben on the stairs, he finds it hilarious to get up and walk away. 
and, if i'm being honest, that just results in the general declaration of "mommy is about to be really frustrated."
this is not a helpful tactic. 


tonight, bernie is at a counselor fly-in event for First Year Experience. 
i am at home with the smallest savaresi. 
and, in the middle of the bathtime/brushing of teeth routine, anth did something squirrelly. 
nothing outrageous, but something i wanted him to think about. 
so, i took his hand, walked him over to his room, and asked him to sit on his bed. 
i squatted down to look in his eyes and told him that he wasn't in trouble, but that i wanted him to think about why he did what he did while i helped benny brush his teeth. 
and that i wanted a report when i came back. 
he just nodded. 


i went back to the bathroom and "checked" benny's work. 
by "check," i mean that i followed up his 2-minute round of chewing on his toothbrush with a method that actually brushes his teeth. 


after this, i went back to anthony's room. 
i asked anthony what he had thought about. 
he tilted his head sideways toward the bathroom. 
i asked if he had thought about what happened in the bathroom. 
he nodded. 
i asked if he had thought about why he had made the choice that he did. 
he nodded again. 
i asked him to tell me. 
he shook his head. 
i took a deep breath. 
then i told him i needed him to tell me what he had thought about. 
he nudged his head toward the bathroom again. 
more. 
deep.
breaths.
i told him that i really needed him to just talk to me. 
at this point he tilted his head back and gurgled, "but, i can't!"
and started giggling. 
as a pool of toothpaste and water sloshed out of his mouth. 


time out #1?
"A" for effort.
"F" for logistics.

with "love," from ben to me

this gem is what came home last year from benny's classroom for mother's day. 

i realize that the quality of this photo is terrible. 

so here, allow me to zoom in on that mug, with an equally low caliber shot.

i feel so loved. 

truly.

Savvy Celebrations

just in case you were wondering what Momma's Day looks like in our house, here is the cliffnotes version. 


1. you get to sleep in. which, here, was 8am. but, i'll take it!
2. you then cram all 4 family members into mom and dad's bed and watch Iron Man in your pajamas. this makes the boys happy because it's Iron Man, and mom happy because Robert Downey, Jr. has been a favorite since Ally McBeal. 
3. later you get to pick where to go for lunch. somewhere classy? never. Chili's. yum. 
4. followed by starbucks. coffee. always coffee on a special day. 
5. you talk to Jen Shields about the fact that her building is leaking in a variety of ways. :)
6. later you come home and get to open some presents. which daddy and boys did a great job of packaging. but you might forget to take a picture of that part becuase, hey, you like presents. 
7. you also have a fun package that came from your friend, kelly, not for mother's day but as a congrats. 


so you end up with this...the ultimate set of gifts to make krystyne happy...

 

- anything made by Fossil. (in this case, the bag your hubby noticed you drooling over.)
- a random range of music
- more access to coffee. 
- and vast amounts of popcorn. (that was from kelly. who, yes, is also the one who previously sent me seasoning for Chex mix. hooray for gifts you get to eat.)


and then, when the little men are napping and the husband is mowing the lawn, you get to sneak a second to make this post. 
hoo-ray.


tomorrow...if my brain does that crazy little thing called remembering...i will post a picture of the world's best mother's day card. 
ever. 

grammar matters

first...on a note unrelated to my kiddos or this post...today was a good day. 
a good friend bought a flight to come and visit this summer, and i was given the opportunity to take on a leadership role i've been hoping to have a chance to serve in. 
i really let myself want this and was nervous about it on a variety of levels. 
ask bern. 
i'm sure he can share some charming stories of my hot mess of a self over the last few weeks. 
so, a quick word of thanks to those who put their vote of confidence in me, as well as to my lovely colleagues in Archer and Neilwood Gables for their barrage of kind words and "love notes" this morning!


now, for the good stuff...
(that might just make one question backing me in the former process.)


this story is truly a little homage to my own brilliance.

AKA, prepare to be impressed.

in this particular "Real Mom Of Genius" moment, the boys and i were driving home after work/school.
specifically, we were driving on a local street called Henderson.
anth has recently taken to noticing various signs and either reading them aloud to us,
or asking us what they spell.

we had just passed an old Mexican restaurant that had closed down a while ago.
i was engrossed in some random thought or another, and anth pulled me out of it when he asked,
"hey mom, what does R-I-T-A-S spell?"
i asked him to repeat it again.
he did.
and then he shared the fact that it had an "a-pop-strophe."

'ritas.
right?
CLEARLY.

i started to explain that " 'ritas" is a nickname for a drink that some adults like.
anth then suggested "oh. well, have you had a 'ritas recently? we could go get 'ritas together."

yep.
YEP.

it was only after my 5-year-old offered to get cocktails together that i realized he was, in fact, referring to Rita's.
the Italian Ice stand on Henderson.

moral of the story?
punctuation is really important.

a post for emily...post

i have the best kids.
ever.
i mean, it's kind of a biased hypothesis.
but it's my job to think it's true.
to some (hopefully healthy) degree.

anyway....growing up, proper manners were a big deal in the Welch abode.
(for our friend who was referenced in this post, "Welch" is my maiden name. that means it was my last name before i got hitched. which is a reference to getting married.)

ah, digression...

so...yes...manners.
important in my house growing up.
these ranged from proper use of silverware and other social graces to the sacred act of writing thank you notes.
my grandma shared these with my mom.
my mom passed them on to me.

in the last few weeks, i posted about my adventure with anth during a kindergarten field trip at the OSU Ice Rink.
here's a refresher picture...



not long after, on one of the days i picked up anth from school, i found an OSU envelope in his cubby
it was addressed "for mommy."

i am pleased to say that anth would have made his Great Grandma proud with the following post-ice-skating note and drawing...

so, in return...

dear anthony,

thank you so much for the lovely thank you note and drawing.
and for making my torso look quite toned.

much appreciated.

love (you best),
mom