Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Big E: Gambling For Peace

This evening I was Skyping with my folks and we were discussing the latest round of Israel versus Hamas.

Big E's ears immediately perked up.

WHAT ARE THEY FIGHTING ABOUT?  ARE THEY AT WAR?

I always try to answer his questions honestly, but without scaring him.  I explained that two different religions were fighting over their Holy Land, which included Jerusalem.  I skipped the part about the recent kidnappings and subsequent retaliation by fire.

Big E knows a little about Israel thanks to his jewish preschool, Sunday school, and PJ Library collection.  He let my explanation simmer for a few minutes.  And then, he came up with a simple solution.

MOM, WHY DON'T THEY JUST PLAY A GAME TO DECIDE WHO GETS THE LAND?

I smiled at his innocence.  If he only knew the complexity of the situation.

THEY COULD RUN A RACE OR PLAY BLACKJACK!

Forget John Kerry.  Send my kid over there and double down.

This guy plus

equals world peace.

Monday, July 14, 2014

Mrs. Yoy: I can't build it. You can't help.

Uncle R was up from Orlando visiting the Yoys last weekend.  As always, he brought gifts for the boys.

Big E's present was a wooden school bus that you build.  With nails and an actual hammer.

Every morning this week, the boys have brought me the bus.

CAN WE BUILD THIS NOW?

I've been giving them the big time brush off because I am terrible at this type of thing.  So is Mr. Yoy.  We have our handyman on speed dial.  Right above sushi take-out.  We are TERRIFIED of any sort of tools.  The only time I pick up a hammer is when I think we are being robbed and I need a weapon.  Yes, my well thought out security defense is to hammer an intruder to death.

In a moment of weakness and exhaustion this morning, I promised we would build the bus after camp.  And because these kids forget NOTHING, this was the first topic addressed when I picked them up this afternoon.

We all sat down on the floor of Big E's bedroom and laid out all the pieces and instructions.  I even read them first.  The boys were pretty disinterested in the hammer part.  They were chomping at the bit to put on the stickers.

I spent the next 50 minutes pounding my thumb with a hammer.

SH*T!

Stabbing my finger with a nail.

DANG IT!

And overall just losing my mind.  

I HATE THIS!!  

The frustration of not being able to nail this stupid bus together made me nauseous.  Sweat was dripping down my forearms. 

I paused for a minute to shoot Uncle R a nasty email about a no assembly required clause on all future gifts.

MOM, HURRY UP!  WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG?!

Oh and now I'm getting heckled by the toddler crowd.  Awesome.  They do realize I'm a crazed monster holding a hammer, I think.

So here you go.  Enjoy your tetanus infested school bus.


Look closely.  You can see the nails sticking out.  Winning!


Covering the nails with stickers.


Friday, July 11, 2014

The Yoys: Walk Of Shame

This week, the boys are at camp at Little E's school, so this affords us the option of walking to camp each morning.

I enjoy nothing more than dragging two kids and a dog up the hills of my neighborhood in 100% humidity, so of course I jumped at the boys' suggestion of walking this morning.

Poodle Yoy and I have an agreement that she is not to poop before we reach school.  I hate carrying around bags of sh*t.  It still smells even if you double bag it.  Hold it until we are on the way home, that's my motto.

This morning, she made it about five houses.  Little E started screaming because Big E had "accidentally" stepped on his shoe and it came off.  I bent over to help Little E while holding Poodle Yoy's leash and two lunch pails.

I glanced over at Poodle Yoy and she was going.  Dang.

We made it another six houses until our next red alert emergency.

I HAVE TO PEE!  I CAN'T HOLD IT!  I HAVE TO GO RIGHT NOW! MOOOOOOOOOOM!

Big E just wanted to pull down his pants and water our neighbor's lawn.  I know his end game.  I tell him there is no way he is going to use the bathroom right then and there.

We quicken our pace.  And by we, I mean I begin to walk faster and Little E hangs onto the lunch pails I'm carrying and, inadvertently, creates a phenomenal resistance workout for me.

I'm sweating as we reach the top of the hill.  One kid is whining about bathroom issues.  One kid is whining about how tired he is.  The school is mercifully within sight.

WHY DID WE DO THIS AGAIN?

I managed to get them across the one real road we encounter and safely deliver them to camp.

Next week, we drive.


Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Little E: Off With His...

Are you starting to see a pattern here?

This evening, Little E was sitting on Big E's bed, "reading" a library book.  Naked. The bath was filling up with warm, sudsy water, ready to wash off the boys' camp grub.  We were all winding down, thankfully.

Big E jumped into the tub first.  That kid totally appreciates a steamy bath.

I asked Little E to get in the tub a few times, but the library book was too captivating.  He couldn't pull himself away.

LITTLE E!  TUB!  NOW!

I must have startled the little guy.  He slammed the library book shut.  Right on his private parts.

He immediately started silent screaming and I knew this was a serious injury. My dreams of an insane amount of grandchildren died there in Big E's bedroom.

I ran over and scooped him up.

MY P*NIS HURTS!

Over and over again.  He was hysterical.  I began to get teary eyed.  I felt bad that I had startled him into injuring himself.  He clung to me and cried.

I couldn't even really sympathize.  I wished Mr. Yoy was here to help.

After a few minutes of rocking him in my arms, he finally calmed down.

I'm still recovering.

Also, don't ever check out William and the Night Train from the Atlanta Public Library System.

Just saying.

* Can't actually spell out the whole word without getting an influx of Russian spammers sending me weird stuff.


Thursday, July 3, 2014

Little E: Off With His Head!

Yesterday we flew home from a week long family vacation to Lake Tahoe.

The peace and fun and relaxation I felt as I drank wine and watched the sun set over the lake was all but eaten up on the 4+ hour return flight from Sacramento.

In general, the Yoys were pretty well behaved on both legs of our Tahoe trip.  They numbed their minds with leap pads and mindlessly ate for most of the flight.  I was fine with that.  There was no screaming or yelling or other disruptive behavior.  This was, by far, the longest airplane ride I've taken with them, and was prepared for the worst.  I had applied deodorant upon deodorant and I was all set to buy airplane bottles of Chardonnay for me and anyone in the surrounding rows if things really got sketchy.

As we prepared to take off from Sacramento, our friendly Delta pilot came on the PA and warned of rough air over the rockies, more specifically Pueblo, CO.  He was very precise regarding the location which we might potentially fall out of the sky.  I am not the most comfortable flyer.  I fake it in front of the boys because I don't want to poison their thoughts with my irrational fear of flying.

WHAT'S TURBULENCE?

I brushed it off.  Oh Big E, it's just some fun, air bumps.  Internally, my mind was stringing together some very bad words.

Once we were airborne, I pulled up the flight tracker on the screen in the seat in front of me.  I zoomed in on the map so I could see exactly when we would be approaching Pueblo.

I could feel my heart rate rise as our plane crossed into Colorado.  This was it.

MOM, I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!!!

Oh, Little E.  This was really bad timing.  All I could think about was the scene from Airplane 2.  Why that man was shaving in bathroom on an airplane, I'll never know, but the visual has stuck with me for years.

I had a decision to make.  I could persuade Little E to delay his bathroom trip until Oklahoma.  Or I could chance and hope both our heads don't end up plowing through the bathroom ceiling.

I chose to overcome my fears.

I quickly unclipped Little E and myself and hightailed it to the bathroom.  As we exited the tiny stall, we started to bump around.  I ordered Little E to hurry back to our row.  Except the beverage cart was blocking us.

Panic. Fear. Sweat.

I yelled for Mr. Yoy who was able to get the flight attendant to push the cart up a few rows so we could get in our seats.

The bumps started coming fast and furious.

Little E was horsing around.

SIT BACK IN YOUR SEAT RIGHT NOW!

Maybe I overreacted.  But I have read one too many stories of passengers hitting the ceiling of the planes because they weren't belted in.  And we were currently flying over ground zero, Pueblo.  At any moment we could drop 100 feet.

Little E flung himself back.  He was sitting in an aisle seat and he managed to move his giant noggin right into the path of the moving beverage cart.

In slow motion, I watched as my son was almost decapitated by Coke Zero and other Coca-Cola products.

LITTLE E!!!  SIT UP RIGHT NOW!

Little E moved his head out of the aisle just in time.  The urgency in my voice startled him and he began to sob.

Lawdy.

Good thing the beverage cart was right there.  Because this mom needs some cheap wine.  STAT.


Not where I wanted to be as we flew over Pueblo, CO.