Monday, March 31, 2014

Big E Reads!

Another day, another bedtime approached.  I was counting down the minutes until I could take a much needed shower and watch the HIMYM series finale.

The boys chose two books tonight, The Spooky Old Tree and Are You My Mother? Two classics from my childhood that I actually enjoy reading.

I was ready to micromachine man my way through the books and be wrapped up in about five minutes flat.  But then I witnessed a miracle.

Well maybe not a miracle, since Big E is a few months past turning five, but to me it was amazing.

He opened up Are You My Mother? and began to read.  And it wasn't his prior memorization reading fake-out, because this time he was making genuine mistakes and then correcting them.

I sat back and smiled as I watched him read to Little E.

I literally almost plotzed* right there on his bed.

I'm hoping Big E inherits my love of books and dives right into all 127 Sweet Valley High books I've got gathering dust on the top shelf of my closet.

* Yiddush word meaning explode from happiness.

Bedtime took about twenty extra minutes tonight, but it was well worth it!

Sunday, March 30, 2014

The Yoys: Not Kosher

Friday night we headed to synagogue for a special religious school shabbat service/dinner.

When we entered the chapel, we were ushered to the front row to put yarmulkes on the boys and get the scoop on what they would be participating in. They were dressed in matching dress shirts, ties, and now, black yarmulkes.

I could feel my deodorant kicking in when I realized they would be up on the bimah (stage) a few times, with many opportunities to do embarrassing things.

The Yoys could not resist the calling of the stage.  As soon as they climbed up there, they could not suppress the urge to dance.  I think they confused the lighting of the shabbat candles with an audition for So You Think You Can Dance.

Everyone around me giggled as my boys pulled out their best dance moves, culminating with Big E's running man during Adon Olam.  I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.  I desperately wished Mr. Yoy was there to share in my horror/entertainment.

YOUR BOYS HAVE UNLIMITED ENERGY!

I think that was the rabbi's way of telling me I needed to be popping them Lunesta instead of raisins.

But they were not finished.  After I caught them stage diving off the bimah, we headed to dinner.

Thank goodness, dinner was pretty uneventful and also very delicious.  The Yoys ran around with their friends and I finally corralled them into the ladies' lounge to change into their jammies.  It was quickly approaching 10 PM and these kids needed to go to sleep.

Little E thoughtfully surprised me with a giant poop in his undies.  All that apple juice and running was a deadly combo.  Awesome.  I finally got him all cleaned up and moved onto Big E.

Our last attempt at changing into jammies at synagogue ended with Big E streaking down the halls buck naked.  I could see in his mischievous eyes that he had similar plans for tonight.  And because my timing is impeccable, as soon as I had Big E naked, a large group of new congregants walked by the doorway on a tour of the synagogue.  Big E's eyes lit up.  Here was a new audience of folks who had never seen his man parts.  He ran for it.  I full on tackled my kid.  There was no way on earth this kid was getting free this time.  I pinned him down on the floor with my knee and waited for everyone to walk away.  Then I fought him into his jammies.

Big E ran out the door and joined up with the tour.  I guess he, too, wanted a historical perspective of the building he haunts on a regular basis.

More running was followed by dessert and then I finally got my exhausted kids into their carseats.

A very good shabbos, indeed.

Watching them up on the bimah, was akin to the Parenthood movie scene where Steve Martin is watching his children destroy the school play.  

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Purple Crayon, Purple Crayon (As sung to the tune of Purple Rain)

Big E's laundry has been dry for about a day.  I keep turning the dryer back on to delay the folding process.  This evening, I finally faced my fear and opened the dryer.  I was tired of it mocking me.

I began pulling out his wrinkled clothes.

Wait a minute!  Why is everything decorated with PURPLE streaks?!

I grabbed a pair of his school khakis, although they could now be referred to as his school purples.  I reached into the pocket and found the hard, crusty remnants of a purple crayon.

DANG! DANG! DANG!

I don't usually check his pockets.

BIG E!  DID YOU PUT A PURPLE CRAYON IN YOUR POCKET?

He looked up from his workbook.  And nodded yes.

I GUESS THAT WASN'T A GOOD IDEA, MOM!

I felt like slamming my head into the wall.

Anyway, I'll just add this to the list of things I've accidentally washed:

1) Diapers
2) Matchbox Cars
3) Crayons
4) Floss Picks
5) Acorns

I'm sure this will not be the last item that incorrectly finds its way into the hamper.

In the meantime, I'm hoping a rewash will take care of the crayon.  If not, a shopping I will go.

This might be a useful website to read.

Mrs. Yoy: Soccer Mom (in-training)

Saturday morning was Little E's first attempt at organized sports, soccer.  I headed over to the fields with Mr. Yoy following with Big E about an hour later for his game.

Little E has been pumped for soccer.  Unlike his older brother, he has been obsessing over when his league would start.  He couldn't wait to put on his cleats and kick his ball around.  In our home.

The field was a whole other story.

First of all, it was muddy as hell.  These fields are in a major flood plain, which is why the Y was able to purchase a giant tract of land in the middle of Buckhead. Just a trace amount of rainfall transforms these fields into Yuppie Woodstock.

Second, my kid was constipated.  I guess too much snacking on his five-hour-outdoor-free-for-all-playdate the evening before really caught up with him.  We made FOUR long treks through the mud to the portable bathroom trailer.  FOUR TIMES.  In an hour.  By the second trip, Little E professed his exhaustion.  He had maybe kicked the ball twice.

And to complete the trifecta, Little E was starving.  Even though he ate breakfast a mere minutes before practice.  I rifled through my bag and came up with some applesauce and raisins.  That should help in the constipation department.  So there stood Little E.  Two feet from the goal.  Stuffing his face with all my handbag's glory.  His teammates played around him.  Little E was oblivious.

WHY, WHY, WHY DO I SIGN UP TO DO THIS?!

I should know by now this only ends one way, with my kid crying.  And possibly me.

But today was a special day.  The moons were aligned or some sh*t like that.  As we returned from the fourth trip to the bathroom I saw my first born, Big E, throwing a massive temper tantrum because this week his team had to turn their reversible jerseys to red and he wanted to be blue, like last week.  I watched as my usually patient husband, lost his mind.

Big E decided he'd rather not play if he had to be red.  So we headed home.  I fake called Uncle Yoy on the way to the car and told him not to come because Big E wasn't playing.  Little E cried for me to pick him up.  I looked around at all the smiling families with their eager, soccer playing children.  Big E whimpered under his breath about wanting to be on the blue team.

I opened the van doors and told the boys to hop up.  This bus was leaving.  I was hot with frustration and anger.

I WANT TO PLAY MY GAME, MOM!

I shook my head and smirked.  This boy will be my undoing.  He's as smart as his dad and as stubborn as me.  I silently prayed for the patience to get the boys back to the soccer fields without any further carnage.  There is only so much crap this mom can take before 10 AM on a Saturday.

On an unrelated note, I vote they start selling wine at the soccer games.  Who's with me?


Sunday, March 16, 2014

Mrs. Yoy and Aunt Yoy: A Race to the Bottom!

This week will not make the highlight reel.  As mentioned in an earlier post, I took out the same side of my van that had just been fixed last month.

Yesterday at soccer, Aunt Yoy told us that at dinner the night before she had left her car running the entire time they were in the restaurant and then flipped when she couldn't find her keys when they were trying to leave.  Maybe she locked them in her car?  Maybe they were in her ignition with the car running? For an hour?

Mr. Yoy shook his head in disbelief.  On our drive to lunch he commented that the two of us were engaged in some bizarre competition to one-up each other in incompetency.  His statement really struck a chord.

Mrs. Yoy: I DROVE INTO THE WALL IN OUR GARAGE!  I'M NEVER REALLY SURE IF I'M UP FAR ENOUGH.

Aunt Yoy: I ROLLED INTO A CAR AT CARPOOL AT SCHOOL!

Mrs. Yoy: I RAN INTO A POLE AT PIEDMONT HOSPITAL PARKING DECK! WHOOPS! THAT JUST JUMPED OUT AT ME!

Aunt Yoy: I TOOK OUT THE SIDE OF MY NEW CAR AT A PHARMACY DRIVE-THRU!

Mrs. Yoy: I SIDE SWIPED A PARKED CAR ON BIG E'S FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!

Aunt Yoy: I TOOK OUT A MAILBOX A MONTH AFTER I HAD MY CAR FIXED. PLEASE SEE THE NEW LINE RUNNING THE LENGTH OF MY CAR.

Mrs. Yoy: I RAN INTO A GIANT BOULDER AT THE EXIT OF LITTLE E'S SCHOOL THREE WEEKS AFTER I GOT MY VAN BACK FROM THE BODY SHOP.

Aunt Yoy: I LEFT MY CAR RUNNING WHILE I WENT INSIDE A RESTAURANT AND ATE DINNER.  GOOD THING NO ONE STOLE IT!

I have to laugh, because it is so ridiculous.

And this is how I imagine a conversation between Mr. Yoy and Uncle Yoy goes:

Mr. Yoy: WHY CAN'T OUR WIVES DRIVE WORTH A SH*T?

Uncle Yoy: THEIR INABILITY TO DRIVE HAS COST US THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS.

Mr. Yoy: THEIR NEXT VEHICLES WILL BE RICKSHAWS.
I DO look good in yellow!

Big E: Kickin' It

Yesterday was Big E's introduction to the world of competitive sports.  He was very nervous about his first game.  In turn, I was very nervous because I knew this outing could be derailed at the drop of a hat.

We pulled up to the YMCA soccer fields.  It was a mecca of soccer parents.  So many minivans (mine included), folding chairs, cameras, and running children.  I tried to stifle a smile.  After years of hearing about soccer moms and dads, it was amazing to see it person.

We found Big E's field and his coach gathered them around for a little pep talk. Then they were off.  It was madness.  Just a bunch of four and five year olds huddled around a ball kicking the crap out of each other.

Big E retired about ten minutes into the game.

I'M TIRED!  I'M TIRED!

He fell to the ground in defeat.  Great.  Clearly my kid needs some more cardio training.  Or an eight hour energy drink.

Mr. Yoy was furious.  Big E begged us to sign him up and it was not cheap.

Mr. Yoy tried unsuccessfully to get Big E back on the field.

So we just ignored him and cheered on his team.  After a few minutes, Big E pulled a Michael Jordan and came out of retirement.  Back in he went.

Aside from some distractions, I mean, that tree was really cool and interesting, Big E did fine.  Let's face it, he's not going to be the next David Beckham, but maybe he could be the next producer of Bend It Like Beckham 2.

Final score: Big E's team 0, Professional Team he was playing against 9.

But here's the thing about Big E.  He's very competitive.  First he convinced me that they had actually won the game.  I finally agreed because I was over hearing about it.

When he talked to my mom, his team had won 6-0.

And by the time our sitter arrived around 6:30, his team had crushed the other team 31-3.

The take-aways from today are as follows:

1) I need to teach Big E how to tell a believable lie.
2) Mr. Yoy is one of those screaming soccer dads.  I was shocked and also amused by this.
3) It's going to be a long eight weeks.



Friday, March 14, 2014

The Yoys: Put Them On Your Playlist

My kids are obsessed with Spotify.

They hear a song in the car.

MOM, PUT THIS ON MY PLAYLIST!

They hear a song at the dentist's office.

MOM, PUT THIS ON MY PLAYLIST!

They sing some random song at preschool.

TEACHER, PUT THIS ON MY PLAYLIST! (Little E actually said this!)

The range of artists include Rolling Stones, Rick Astley, and anything Kidz Bop related.  I'm sure Mick Jagger would vomit if he knew Paint it Black was followed by a pop cover song sung by an obnoxious eight year old.  Well in my world, it is.

I love that the Yoys show such interest in music, don't get me wrong.  As a child, my dad would take me to Spec's music to pick out records.  I'm sure he rolled his eyes at the Madonna and Culture Club 45s I selected.  But at least it was original music.  (I'm talking to you Kidz Bop 32!)

I guess I should keep my music complaining to a minimum so I don't come off as a geezer.

I'm off to add the latest requests to Big E's playlist.  Imagine Dragons and Rihanna.

Not his actual playlist as there is no Kidz Bop to be found anywhere!

Oops, I Did It Again!

Me and Britney.  Making the same mistakes over and over and over.  It is so getting old.

About a month ago, I took the big red bus to the body shop to fix a boo-boo I had done back in August.  The lease is up in a few months, and I needed to make the van all purdy again.

The van was due for an end of lease inspection on Monday.  I was going to proudly show off my newly fixed up vehicle.  See?  No dents or scratches on the back right side.  It's just like new!

Except now it isn't.  Because I ran into a giant boulder at the exit to Little E's school and took out the exact same spot.  It was not my proudest parenting moment.  I put together a healthy string of expletives and once home, threw a water bottle against the wall, which exploded all over me.  Little E just watched in horror.

Here's the reality.  I love the hell out of my van, but I cannot pilot it for sh*t.

Maybe Mr. Yoy wouldn't be upset if this were my first, or even second offense. But it is my third.

I ran into a pole at the Piedmont Hospital parking deck when the van was just a baby.  A mere three months old.  In the same spot.

In my mind, I'm driving a Smart Car, but in real life it might as well be the size of a Hummer.  And this creates many problems for me.

I have to give props to Mr. Yoy for remaining calm and not yelling.  I would have yelled at me.

So it's back to the body shop I go.  I wonder if they give bulk discounts.  Like Costco.

OOPS! I DID IT AGAIN TO THE VAN!