Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Tomorrow: Just Another Thursday For Big E

Bedtime for Big E is a battle approximately one out of every three nights.

Tonight I felt confident going into bedtime.  Dare I say cocky?  I had the ace in the hole.  Halloween, the most sacred holiday for a soon to be five year old.  And I was going to use it to my full advantage.

I CAN'T SLEEP.

I HAVE NIGHTMARES.

LET ME DO SOMETHING FUN.

The typical excuses rolled easily off Big E's tongue.  They are empty and meaningless to me now, as I hear them on a regular basis.

I wasted no time pulling out the big guns.

BIG E, GO TO BED RIGHT NOW OR WE ARE NOT GOING TRICK OR TREATING TOMORROW!

He looked at me with his soulless eyes and declared that he didn't want to go trick or treating.

I'm raising a robot child.





Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Hot Damn!

I'm harboring a criminal.

Sunday's family outing included a torturous (for Big and Little E) swing through a bulk candy store.

Unlimited, accessible candy all at eye level.  

MOM, IS THIS HEAVEN?

I wanted to answer yes, but I brushed off the suggestion.  Everyone knows that heaven has unlimited white wine and pizza and no one ever gets fat.

I left the store with the Yoys in tow while Mr. Yoy lingered behind eyeballing the life-sized gummy bears.  

I looked down at Big E.  Why was he chewing the cud?  I grabbed his face and took a look inside his sweet smelling mouth.  It was candy corn city in there.

BIG E!  WHERE DID YOU GET THAT CANDY CORN?  DID YOU STEAL IT FROM THE STORE?

Big E went on the defensive.  He swore to both Mr. Yoy and I that he didn't steal anything.

A LADY PUT IT IN MY MOUTH!

This is your strategy?  Pretend there is some creepy lady in the candy store force feeding candy corn to all the children? (After telling this story to my friend Lady J, she agreed that while this theory is a long-shot, I should not write off the crazy grandma suspect).

Mr. Yoy was about to drag a visibly upset Big E back into the store to confess his crime and face his punishment.  Instead, he went back in solo and bought a bag of candy hot tamales, which he disguised as cherry Mike & Ike's.

Big E grabbed three and shoved them in his mouth.  He chewed twice.  Then he began screaming and crying.  He spit them out into my hand.

THEY ONLY SERVE HOT TAMALES IN JAIL.  REMEMBER THAT THE NEXT TIME YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT TAKING SOMETHING WITHOUT PAYING.

For a child that thinks pineapple is spicy, this was the perfect punishment.  

I've let the events of Sunday stew for a few days and I'm not sure if I'm more upset that Big E stole candy corn or that he continued to lie about it for the better part of an hour.  

Either way, I hope this is just a blip on the radar and not the signal of the beginning of Big E's moral decay.








Monday, October 21, 2013

Please Don't Go (To Breakfast), Girl

Key to their development into refined adults, I play a wide spectrum of quality music for the Yoys to enjoy.

During one of our many storied van rides about town, we were jamming out to a childhood favorite, New Kids On The Block (NKOTB, duh!)

As prepubescent Joey belted out about the girl going away, Big E became very alarmed.

WHY DOES SHE HAVE TO GO?

Oh, Big E.  Is now the time to dive into the topic of dating and breaking up?  I think not.

BECAUSE SHE DOES.

That was my well-thought out response.  I've been a parent for close to five years.  My ability to creatively answer questions has all but dried up.

IS IT BECAUSE SHE HAS TO GO EAT BREAKFAST?

AND THEN DIE?

Whaaaaaaaaat?

ONLY IF SHE IS EATING HER BREAKFAST AT THE WAFFLE HOUSE.


I'm 100.00000% sure this poster was hanging from my middle school bedroom walls.  And possibly high school.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

What Happens In Vegas Stays In Vegas

I'm here to say, that doesn't have to be the case.

I tagged along with Mr. Yoy last week to his first shareholder retreat in Las Vegas.  And not scuzzy, Bally's Las Vegas.  I'm talking the Bellagio.  He wasn't allowed to go without me.

With minimal begging, we convinced my parents to fly up to Atlanta to watch the Yoys while we spent three days in Sin City.

Mr. Yoy had boring work stuff during the day so I was on my own.

But don't cry for me.  I treated myself big time.

Below is a partial list of the amazing things accomplished during my vacation from being a responsible parent:

1)  I woke up at 6AM Vegas time and worked out.  Don't roll your eyes at me, I never get to work out without checking the clock and my cell phone for calls regarding my children.  And the gym was packed.  I'm stuck on Eastern Standard Time, what's your excuse?

2)  I spent four glorious hours in the Bellagio Spa.  Four hours cost me approximately 65% of one month's worth of Little E's preschool tuition.  Yep.  I did it.  And I'd do it again.  Can you say eucalyptus steam room?

3) I ate meals alone.  With the exception of my Kindle.  And no one was touching me with their greasy, boogery fingers.  And I could consume my food at a rate safe for humans.

4) I drank alone.  Well, only because the bartender felt bad I was eating my salad alone.  I didn't care, but thanks for the ice creamy Kailua shots.

5) I ran up and down the strip treasure hunting for the Bank of America ATM.  While the Yoys enjoy dropping c-notes at the craps table, we refuse to pay the $7 ATM fee at the Bellagio.  The weather was amazing, I had spotify pumping in my ears, and I just keep running.  Like Forrest.

6) I laid in bed and watched a Law & Order marathon.  In my past life, I was all about a L&O marathon.  Showering, eating, and using the bathroom all fell by the wayside once Detective Lennie Briscoe appeared on my television.

7)  I took a thirty minute shower.  I had no audience.  No little boys pressing their faces up against the glass door asking for milk.  Or to wipe them.  Or whatever the hell they are always coming up with.

8)  I played the Wheel of Fortune slot machine.  And (over)enthusiastically cheered myself on, while drinking bad white wine and winning dazzling amounts of pennies.

While this Vegas trip looked markedly different from my last, pre-Yoysers trip, it was still amazing.  I came back to the ATL feeling like a whole new Mrs. Yoy.

This feeling had all but evaporated by the next morning, but I could still vaguely remember it.  Like labor pains.


BIG MONEY!  BIG MONEY!

Big E: The "E" is for ENERGY

Last night I tucked Big E into bed at 7:30, right on schedule.

I didn't see him snort like ten lines of coke before bedtime, but maybe he did.

Over the next four hours, Big E devoured his learning books.  He was in his room, laid out on the floor, quietly working.  He wasn't disrupting my much needed mommy time, so I wasn't super upset.

We watched the Falcons lose ANOTHER game and decided it was time for bed. Like the Energizer Bunny, Big E was still going.

IF YOU DON'T SLEEP, YOU WON'T GROW.

This nugget of info didn't bother him at all.  He's totally kosher with always being the shortest person within a 50 mile radius.

YOU HAVE TO GET UP IN 7.5 HOURS FOR SCHOOL!

He gave me a mildly annoying shoulder shrug.  But finally agreed to turn in for the night.  And that was the last we heard of him until the morning.

To prove our point, Mr. Yoy and I woke Big E up at precisely 7AM with a rousing performance.

RISE AND SHINE AND GIVE GOD YOUR GLORY, GLORY!

RISE AND SHINE AND GIVE GOD YOUR GLORY, GLORY!

We went on and on with clapping and foot stomping.  It was quite spiritual.

Big E did not find this humorous.  Nor did he enjoy when Mr. Yoy stripped his bed with Big E still occupying it.

Tonight I tucked Big E into bed at 7:30, right on schedule.

I have heard nary a peep from him.

Life lesson learned.

Produced during last night's coke infused learning book blow-out.

Monday, October 7, 2013

Big E: Picture Perfect

Tomorrow is picture day at Big E's elementary school.

A few weeks back, we received the photographer's flyer which included a choice of six backgrounds.

All six options are losers.  Fireworks, creepy lockers, some weird Star Wars sh*t, and my personal favorite (and instigator of this entry), the Christmas Tree with all the trimmings.

I mistakenly sat down with Big E tonight to go over his choices.  I was hoping when I revisited the flyer that a miracle had occurred and there was now a plain background available.  No such luck, friends.

Big E saw the Christmas Tree and his eyes lit up.

OOOOOH MOM, I WANT THE CHRISTMAS TREE!!

I sighed.  Heavily.  We have touched on the whole Jewish thing in years past, but I knew this year would be a challenge.  Big E spent three glorious years in a bubble at a Jewish preschool.  Now he was at public school and probably one of a handful of Jewish children there.

BIG E.  WE'RE JEWISH.  WE DON'T CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS.

The truth wasn't enough for him.

BUT THE TREE IS SO PRETTY!  PLEASE CAN I HAVE THE CHRISTMAS TREE BACKGROUND?  PLEASE?  PLEASE!  PLEASE?

Then the tears started.  Big, wet, heartbreaking ones.

I feel for the kid, I do.  I can recall the exact moment when I realized I wasn't like everyone else in my class.  And I hated being different.  (I was already left-handed and now this?!)

I did my best to calm him and try to explain that while Christmas is pretty much the most awesome and amazing holiday that ever existed, there are some redeeming things about being Jewish, too.

Below is an excerpt from my list:

1) Vegas on Christmas is the bomb.  It isn't very crowded and you can get into most restaurants without a resi.  (This is for later in life, obviously.)

2)  Your sense of humor will be legendary.

3)  You have zero expectation of being athletic.

4)  You can eat bagels with abandonment and no one will judge you.

5) "Oy Vey" is the greatest expression ever strung together.  Use it freely.

The only thing that peaked his interest was the part about bagels.  What can I say?  The boy loves some bread.

My game plan is to fill out the picture form without Big E and hope he forgets all about the tree by the time we receive the finished product.

Now that I've seen a glimpse of what December will hold, I'm going to prepare myself for the many forthcoming religious discussions.

Oy. Vey.



Far right is the tree that started it all.  But I'm thinking Star Wars Galaxy shot and maybe put him in a storm trooper's costume?  Yes?