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Showing posts from July, 2014

Big E: Gambling For Peace

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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.

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

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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

The Yoys: Walk Of Shame

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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 pu

Little E: Off With His...

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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 re

Little E: Off With His Head!

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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