Parenting Fail- It was a little Mom-troversial…

I feel like a criminal and a failure as a mom. Because I did something I was not supposed to do. It made me feel so bad. I felt like a total failure as a mom. But I had no choice. I could see the look of disappointment on the faces of all those who have been supporting me. How could I do this to my child? How could I have let myself do it? I could have stuck to my guns, held my ground, been super mom. I was a failure. And I still am. My crime…is horrific. Especially to a lot of mommas out there. But…I am on a budget, and honestly not ready to deal with the volatile environment anymore. My house has become downright…hostile. So I did it. I gave in. I failed. His doctor was so shocked. But…I…Fed my child a sandwich. On WHITE BREAD.  Yep. I fed him a sandwich. A horrible gluten filled mass of peanut-butter and NOT sugar free jam. And a package of GUMMY SNACKS. Worst. Mom. EVER.

You see…the reason this will be seen as a crime is I have been trying to go Paleo for him. I am trying to eliminate all gluten, all food dyes, and all sugar from his diet. But Hurricane is like a crack addict with the bread and crackers. He is taking the sugar thing in stride. Some whining, but tolerable. But the bread. The glorious, glorious, bread. It is his go to comfort food. His snack of choice. And he was hating me. With a passion.

Hurricane has a hard time in school. They are throwing around the words ADD/ADHD, and he already has a diagnosis of Sensory Pervasive Disorder. Before they pull the go to “Maybe he needs medication” card, aka the “Make your child an obedient robot zombie” choice, I was looking at options and I called his awesomeamazingwonderfultakescareofmeinspiteoflackofinsurance Occupational Therapist for her opinion. She agreed with several of my friends and family members we needed to start with his diet. Not that he ate badly. But he did eat more processed and more sugar than he should. So I went cold turkey. And it. Has been. HELL.

As he munched his meat roll ups and ate his raw veggies at lunch, he was loathing me. He was coming home and laying into me. He was cranky. He was irate. In short, my six year old child had become, an asshole. And I was warned, he would detox, but he would be fine after TWO OR THREE WEEKS. I’m sorry. But I have NO patience for that madness. I want to enjoy snuggles and happy time in our limited time together. With me working three jobs I barely see my son. So to spend the time we have together fighting, was not working for me. So I did it. I gave in. I made him a sandwich. I am still sticking to sugar free.  I am giving him more fresh fruit, raw veggies, and more. I am slowly cutting back his intake of gluten. But I refuse to go cold turkey. Because I love my son and I want to be happy together not fighting.

So…pass the boy his rolls and dairy free butter.

Out of the mouths of babes…a Mom-troversial Moment or two…

We do things a lot different in the Mom-T household. We are ALL full of sass and crass. It’s just the Mom-T way. So I should never be shocked at the things that my child says or my students say. Or the fact even King Pig (my husband for you newbies) can say or do things that are a bit…controversial or just down right hilarious.  For example…

Hurricane has decided he wants to be a fireman. So everything in his world is firefighters. Drawings, stories, books, videos. His favorite show is Rescue Heroes.  He made a drawing of a buidling on fire being put out by firemen. ANd my husband told him it was missing the screaming victims. Now, Hurricane can NOT pronounce the word horror. It always comes out WHORE. So he draws this awesome picture, my husband says his piece and Hurricane flips. “Damn it daddy! It’s always whores with you! Whores whores whores! All you ever talk about is whores. BIG whores, bad whores. Its firemen daddy. NOT whores.” I was laughing too hard to correct him to HORROR or admonish him for saying damn it. Another time I was eating my favorite pickles, a brand called Bubbies. (Best pickles EVER, BTW).

“Whatcha eating mommy? Pickles? Mommy they are… (sounds out label) Boooooobies. Mommy you look happy to have those Boooobies in your mouth….”

Then there was my students deciding to talk in all numbers. To pass the long drive on a field trip, one of the students started a “talk in mostly numbers” game” Being me… I got into it. They got loud. I threatened to “pull this van over right now and 137 you guys right now!” One of the students responded and I almost wrecked. (Names changed, obviously) “Well, Ms. Mom T, if you pull over to 137 us we will all get even. Bubble girl will 39 you, Puppy-boy will 49 you, Captain Mad will 59 you, and I will…” I had to cut him off. I almost wrecked laughing. But yeah. Of all the numbers for him to pick…

Songs are the best as well. Lyrics being sung completely wrong, or completely right. And funny. For example, we were not Making Thunderherds, we were “Making up with Nerds”. And don’t get me started on the Barbie girl song…

And no one can ever forget him telling me I needed to get peanut butter for my pussy. Because the kitten had gum in her fur. Yep. Kids.

Peanut Butter is the new Hitler

I keep hearing the argument over and over. Why should MY kid suffer because your freak kid has allergies. And every time I hear it it breaks my heart. Because it shows how souless and selfish we have become as a society. Callous. Uncaring. Hateful. Self centered. And just. Plain. STUPID. I will tell you why…

A couple of months ago, one of the students in our school went into anaphylactic shock after getting a drink from the same water cooler a student touched after eating a PB cup in his car on the way to class. He washed his hands but must not have done a good job. Several years ago I had an infant with a peanut allergy go into shock when a teacher with PB on her breath was playing a game where she blew little puffs if air in the babies face. Thankfully as a food allergy momma myself, I was able to step in and quickly clear her airway and get her an pen administered. But there are just too many tragic stories of children who die from accidental contact.

Just recently, a 13 year old girls last words to her mom were I’m sorry, as she died from anaphylaxis.  (You can read a commentary here: http://blogs.babycenter.com/mom_stories/08302013teen-apologizes-dies-peanut-allergy/)

I am proudly an allergen nazi of sorts making sure my school stays clear of anything that could hurt my students. My son is case in point. He has a severe dairy allergy. Not lactose. Milk protein. Its been a battle to both explain it, (“Oh, he is fine, just give him lactaid!”) AND to watch him looking so sad when all the other kids are having an ice cream party and he is stuck with a crappy ice pop. Or to see friends having cookies and cakes and other goodies at school, and to have to either eat a super healthy but not always super yummy alternative, or to see him turn down food from friends because he might be allergic. Inclusion reduces bullying. Before I adamantly advocated for him to be included with the other students at the cafeteria table, as kids were teasing him for being a “weirdo” eating “funny stupid foods” my son felt the shame. And this was from KINDERGARTENERS! He hates his allergy and tells me daily he wishes he could just eat like normal kids.

I have heard the argument over and over, why accommodate the child with the allergy who is in the minority, and my very valid argument back is, why exclude a child even further who already feels ostracized?

Polite society shut the F*** up!

My son has always had amazing manners. He says please and thank you, always holds the door for ladies, and is generally amazing and although silly, he is polite about his shennanigans, which tends to earn him free passes. When we are out in public we have a “4 squares” or 12 feet rule. He needs to be no more than about 12 feet away, which on a city sidewalk is about 4 squares. It increases to 6 squares on neighborhood streets. He has always been great about following the rule, and will sometimes run ahead at places like museums, or on this particular date, the zoo, but always within eye and voice range.

We were enjoying the newest exhibits at the National Zoo in DC. I drive so he can sleep on the way home, and we park at the bottom, run to the top while still full of energy, then its downhill the whole way we are exploring. As we ran together up the hill, he was so awesome, yelling, “excuse me please! Beep beep please we are passing!” Got lots of smiles. On our way past the top, we detoured because they were moving the elephants along the new exercise walk they made for them. He very politely asked to move to where he could see, and about 12 different people told my husband and I how awesome he was. Yeah. We were puffed up with pride! What parent does not like to hear their kid rocks?

We moved on to the very top and stopped at an enclosure to look at a bear or something. There is a rock wall you can take a break on off to the side, so we stopped for lunch. It was pretty quiet still. Another family came along as well, and they were what my husband and I like to call a “photo-op” family. Mom and daughter, and father and son totally in matching outfits, and the kids color coordinated. Girl and mom in sun-dresses that had blue  flowers that matched the blue shirts of dad and brother. So matched, mom and daughter had khaki headbands to tie in to dad and brothers shorts. Hurricane and the girl were about the same age, and started to chatter and play. How cute, we all made small talk, etc. Finally, I tell Hurricane it is time to move on to the Pandas. So he asks the girl “Excuse me, would you mind moving please?” She ignores him and keeps playing.

“Umm, excuse me, but my mommy and daddy are ready to go, and I can not get down. Could you move please?” Still no movement from the girl. “I’m sorry, but we need to go. Can you move now please?” No response. Finally, he gets  loud. And I get redder than a baboons butt as he yells out “I said EXCUSE ME, bitch, could you PLEASE MOVE NOW?” I swear the entire zoo went silent. In my head I am dying. I am laughing so hard inside myself I am about to cry. Because the “photo-op” family was frozen in place. Like robots that ran out of energy. Slack-jawed. Eyes wide. I nearly died trying not to laugh. “HURRICANE! WHERE ON EARTH DID YOU LEARN SUCH A WORD?” I admonished him. Before he could pull the eye roll and ‘uhh YOU duh” move my husband silences him with a stern look and says “We just might have to march over to the bathroom son and wash that dirty mouth, now apologize please!” And the dad looks at us and mumbles something about white trash and apologies not necessary. Once they walk away so fast I think their asses grew rockets, I laugh so hard I set off the monkeys.  Then Hurricane looks at us. He is upset. “Mommy, do I have to wash it out? I tried to ask nice. Like 300 times!” And I just mumbled, don’t let it happen again, and sent him on his way. And we proceeded to laugh the rest of the way through the zoo.  Because as a parent, the parrots are at more than zoos and pet stores, and sometimes, you just need to get the point across. But yes. We are white trash. With an amazing son, and damn proud of it!

The death of manners and “it takes a village”

I know many bloggers have written about this topic already, and I have to wonder, when the hell is something going to change? If we KNOW as a society it is an issue, why the f**k is it still going on? Why are we allowing our children to act like this?

I was at the gas station last night, and on my way out, a teen was coming in the door, he paused and held the door while hollering at his friends. I thought he was holding the door for me. When I started to come out he started to come in, without looking, and proceeded to step into and on me. When I started to apologize and explain I thought he was holding the door for me he and his friend started to curse at me. “What the hell! Watch where you are walking you stupid b***h!”

Now, I was already exhausted from a long day at two of my 3 jobs, and late heading out to see my son. But I paused, and calmly, but firmly said the following “Young man, I apologize for bumping you but when you paused to yell back to your “dawg” I presumed you were one of the few with manners and were holding the door for a lady.” He started to get smart with me again, and the manager and a woman came over. I thought, Great! Now he will be asked to apologize. Nope. Instead the manager, and the woman who identified herself as his aunt, told me I had no right to discipline the teen. Say WHAT?

Needless to say, after the day I had, I was about ready to explode. Another customer who came in placed his hand on my shoulder and said,  quietly, two words. “Karma. Walk away.” And he smiled at me. I took a deep breath and did just that.  So thank you kind man for helping me regain my emotional control. But after I got home it really struck a chord.  My own son has been taught since he was strong enough to open a door, we always hold the door for ladies, we say please and thank you, and we never EVER use a disrespectful tone with our friends AND elders.  I work as a teacher and the insane amount of nasty and sarcasm that flows from my students is MINDBOGGLING. When did this become ok? When did it become acceptable to basically BULLY one another? I see teachers bullying students, I see schools with strict no bullying policies letting things slide because “kids will be kids”. And before someone accuses me of being a touchy-feely hug one another type, NO I am not. I get it the world is a tough place and I am far from wanting my son to grow up and be a wimp. BUT common respect and courtesy is not too much to ask of our children!

When did we go away from manners and from helping one another with our kids? I get it ALL the time. If I see a child doing something horribly dangerous on the playground, such as climbing on the outside of a 15 foot high slide, I SAY SOMETHING.  “Hey buddy, I know that is fun for you but it would be awesome if you stop, because I am afraid my son might try it, and he is only six. Would you mind coming down?” I can count on my fingers AND toes the number of times I have, on teacher and nanny and mommy instinct, “parented” another person’s child. I also have been given more s**t than I can count for doing it. But come on! I don’t go around smacking other peoples kids, I don’t issue timeouts to kids who are not my own or are at least those of super close friends of mine. But I DO talk politely and attempt to re-direct them. And I get the attention of the parents or caregivers and alert them of the situation. Because, I was raised to believe, it takes a village.

I want it to be the 50’s again.  When children are taught respect, parents have great conversations, and manners are abundant. I want the days where children played nice and the meanest thing they ever called one another is “stupid-head”. When teens would never EVER consider calling a complete stranger a name, especially not  a “stupid b**ch”. And where the entire village is allowed to control the children!

Maybe it’s for me…get over it!

My son has always been a ray of insanity and sunshine.  A ball of endless energy, that earned him the nickname, Hurricane. He is RIDICULOUSLY smart. And I am not just saying that as a mom. Other people told me too, so it MUST be true.  When he was 6 months old he chased a moving train toy across the floor, then when he caught it, proceeded to flip it over, study it , and try to understand how it would “go”.  He took his finger and pushed on the wheels, then kept his hand on it and set it back down. When it did not move again, he let it go then NODDED, as if he understood.  “OK so that thing moving around and around makes it work. Cool”

When he learned to walk at a year old, he never did it in front of us. I always suspected he was walking. But I let him crawl and fake wobble. One day, I left him with a friend while I ran some errands, and he walked clean across her playroom. She called me and said “Why didn’t you tell me he was walking?” I said “He isn’t.” A week later at his grandmothers he was walking pushing his little “push toy car” around her screened in porch. He heard some blue jays and squirrels fighting over peanuts in the yard and let go of the car to run over and investigate. Halfway between the car and the porch door he froze. He looked at us both, looked like he might fake wobble, then instead just grinned. AND SHRUGGED HIS SHOULDERS! And kept on striding cockily confidently towards the door.  Rotten bugger.

He would walk around the He started to talk around 13 months. And he never shut up. Is that really a shock?  His mommy IS a chatterbox  He was very well spoken, including, using words in proper context NO two year old should use.  We moved when he was 4, and the entire neighborhood was soon telling me how smart he was. But if he had a reaction to something, it was extreme. And they would all say “WOW, I wouldn’t expect Hurricane to act like that. How old is he again?” I started to wonder…

SO, when we had many more moments like these, I started to be concerned about his more trying behavioral situations. He would suddenly have these odd epic meltdowns, over silly things. His shirt felt funny. His clothes/blanket/hands didn’t “smell right”. He would be fine in a small group then all of the sudden get super cranky and run and hide.  He would get anxious any time his routine deviated, even if it was a surprise. My normally cheerful and gregarious boy would suddenly be shy and standoffish, but in a super sullen way. I figured he was just having a moment. A stage. But then it didn’t get better. It got worse. WAY worse. He started to withdraw in any social situation where there was more than about 5 kids. I started to do things with our playgroup, with  larger groups of kids, and he would literally just shut down.   He entered the school environment, and it got even worse. Emotionally he was acting like a 3 year old. At almost 6, this was concerning to me. As a student studying to become a special education teacher, I was seeing behaviors I see in my classroom observations. I wondered if maybe my son might be “on the spectrum”.  School has been nearly impossible for him. He is impulsive, sullen, loud, disruptive.He was demanding, then shy.  He would get frustrated. Every day I was getting notes about his behavior. I was getting frustrated. They would do one to one time and pull him out and he was fine. The same mostly well behaved kid I had at home. So what gives? I was at the end of my rope. I took him first to our totally amazing pediatrician.

Dr. H has been our doctor for about 3 years now. We  talk and she actually listens.  She follows up and calls her patients parents to be sure we are doing ok after a visit. After our meeting about his issues she took her pages of notes and told me to let her think on it and she would contact me in a  few days. I got the e-mail just a day later. She thought he  might have Sensory Integrative Disorder, which was on the Autism spectrum. She recommended I see an OT and get him evaluated by both a developmental pediatrician and a psych.  I was so happy to know I was not insane. But what this potential diagnosis meant for me was that I was NOT A FAILURE  AS A PARENT. You see, before I had Hurricane I spent 15 years as a preschool teacher and professional nanny. I  had successfully raised 22 other kids. And my own child was SO difficult. And so trying. I just HAD to be doing something wrong. Right? I was so excited, I told my Mother in Law and mom about it. A reason. FINALLY. And I was yelled at.

“There is NOTHING WRONG with him! Don’t you DARE let the doctors label him! He is NOT Autistic! What is wrong with you? It IS you. You spoil him. You baby him anyway. You were a helicopter mom. Stop letting them tell you that.  He is normal. He is being (insert age here)”

So I started to second guess things I was doing. I was even more frustrated. I had a long talk with my sister in law that put it in perspective. With a label, he might miss out on things as he continues through school. He might not be tested for a gifted program, even though he is showing early signs of amazing math ability. That part I get. I think my moms both think Autism =Rainman. Which is not at all accurate. But if there is something wrong, shouldn’t I be allowed to hear it, understand it, and perhaps CHANGE my parenting style to adapt to his unique situation? I want to be the best mom I can be. And if a label will help my husband and I understand him, and to do things differently, then so be it. You are right. Its for me. AND for him.  GET OVER IT.

I wanted to beat the %&^% out of her BUT…

I saw something tonight that both angered me and broke my heart. I stopped to grab dinner for the family at McD, a rare treat for us. I glanced over at the car next to me and saw an 8 month old infant. Strapped into a high back Graco booster seat. With a lap belt.  My initial instinct was shock. And anger. An INFANT in a HIGH BACK with nothing but a seat belt to hold her in. I was ready to scream. To yell. To have a heart attack.  At the sheer irresponsibility and insanity. I took a deep breath, got out of my car, knocked on their window and asked how old the little sweetie was and if they were aware of the “new” car seat laws requiring a child be in a 5 point restraint  and rear facing until age 2. They were not, and the baby had outgrown her carrier seat. So I did what any mom would do. Called the cops and flipped my shit on their irresponsible asses  I gave them my extra car-seat. You see, I keep a 5 point harness in my car for long trips with Hurricane. Which he was almost too big for finally.   Hurricane does not ride more than 10 miles in a standard booster, and until next week on his 6th birthday I had no intention of moving him to a high back full time before he hit 50 pounds. But something about this woman and that baby touched me. So I gave them the seat Hurricane is just about out of. It won’t expire for another 3 years. And now I know the little one will be safe. I even installed it, as I have taken a certification class on seat installation, to ensure it had the best fit. The one woman of 3 in the car remarked it was a really nice seat and asked me why. I told her the truth.
I couldn’t live with myself knowing
a) a mother would lose her child because a seat was not in the budget if the cops pulled them over.
b) a sweet baby was injured from my inaction and
c) It was part of a movement to pay it forward, and she should be sure to do the same for someone down the line.

Hopefully I helped save a life, shape a life, and pass along a message. Pay it forward. It’s the movement that keeps giving. ❤

A Mom-ment that changed my life…

Paying it forward. We all have heard the expression. Random acts of kindness. Changing the world. Karma. Whatever it may be, it comes back on your ten fold. I have talked a little bit about it with my son, “Hurricane”. I wanted him to understand why we do good for others. It is not only because it gives you a good feeling inside, but when you do good, good things come back to you. I was not sure he really grasped the concept.  But I try to show him acts of kindness and paying things forward as often as I can. It may be as simple as helping a person in line pay for their purchases if they are a little short, giving a larger tip to a server who went above and beyond, paying for breakfast of the next person in line behind me at a drive through.

Hurricane and I had a moment last year where we helped out a homeless man by giving him a pair of shoes and the things needed to make some sandwiches. A few weeks later karma gave back. While at the grocery store, I found out while checking out and after an hour of struggling through the store with an insane cranky hyper 5 year old getting everything on my list, that my husbands direct deposit had not yet cleared.  When my card was declined I was mortified. Half the store had heard the tantrums and insanity joyful sounds of a high energy five year old and his mom,  and I was ready to go.  I had enough cash for some of it, and just was about to pull out the stuff to get us through  the next 2 days, when a gentleman came up from 3 registers away and handed the cashier a $50 bill. Though I appreciated the gesture, I was just going to have to go to the bank and figure out what happened and finish my shopping later in the week. He just smiled, said, “Once his deposit clears, pay it forward” and walked out of the store. Hurricane was quiet when we first got in the van, and asked me “mommy, he said to pay it forward. Is that like what we did for the man with no house? How we got him shoes.”  And I explained, yes it was, and how we helped the man then someone helped us. He asked me if we were going to do something else nice, and I said, yes. Because the more you do to help others, the more that comes back to you nicely. And I kept my word to the man at the grocery store. The day my husbands deposit cleared, I paid for the meals of the next 3 people  behind me at the drive through a few nights later, and bought a few “meals for the hungry” at the grocery store on my next trip.

A few weeks later Hurricane came back from a visit to my moms. She had taken him to the women’s and children’s shelter where a friend of hers was staying as she escaped her own turmoil. When he came home he was in deep thought. I asked him what was wrong, because he seemed a little sad. He said he noticed a lot of the kids there had little to play with. I explained a lot of times the families there had to come in a hurry. He just nodded then ran off to his room to play. I heard some major commotion and went to see what was going on. I found him filling up a big bin that used to have clothes in it with toys. He asked me to please pack up every toy he did not play with, so he could take them to the shelter. We filled FIVE bins of toys that day, and took to our local shelter. Some were things I thought he would never let go of. He told me he wanted to “pay it forward” and give them away.

Enter Christmas. The one thing he asked Santa for was just NOT in the budget for us. Plus he has had one hell of a time adjusting to school.  He asked us for a DS. I was a little disappointed but his birthday is coming and he has time to change his behavior… As I was leaving for work on Christmas Eve, a neighbor stopped me. His grandson is a little boy I call my “weekend kid”, because he spends almost every weekend with us. Thanks to a family member, his original DS had been broken. His grandfather had not been able to find the paperwork on the warranty, so he just bought him a new one. He ended up finding the paperwork last month, and got it the first one repaired, meaning he now had an extra DS. They asked if I wanted to have it for Hurricane. I offered to pay for it, and he said “no, it can be his gift from us for Christmas.” I was in tears. And Hurricane was THRILLED. He said “See mommy! You were right, I gave all those toys away and now I got my DS!”

So…I decided then and there it was time to start a Pay It Forward movement, and EVERY DAY I am doing something to give some good to Karma. I want to know who will join me in my quest. Some people on Facebook are doing it as a Random Acts of Kindness movement. I have decided 2013 should be the year of love and change. I have made it a point to pay it forward every single day since, and I will be posting my daily movements on my facebook page. (http://www.facebook.com/momtroversial) I am hoping to have a slew of “Mom-troversians” join me in my quest. If you pledge to join me, please do so here or on the page. Lets start a change of positivity and move into a future of helping hands. 🙂  And while you are at it, watch the movie Pay It Forward. You won’t be disappointed.

❤ Mom T

I said unplug the razor and let go of the cat….

There are a million things as a mom you say, but never in a million years could make yourself believe came out of your mouth. I saw a commercial for these things on NickMom.com. Which, by the way, is the best thing to ever come out of Nickelodeon. I am even putting that about What Would You Do? and Clarissa Explains it ALL. Yep. CLARISSA. I went there. But I digress… I started to think of my own oddities since becoming a mom. Here is a little top ten for you of things I can not believe I have said as a mom. (And remember, I am a professional nanny, with groups of kids up to 11. I saw it all. Or so I thought)

10. Just because it is orange like a carrot does not mean you can eat it.
9. We pee on trees OUTSIDE of the house, NOT in Aunt Myrtles living room.
8. Take that (insert random object) out of your (insert any random orafice) RIGHT NOW!
7. Please do not pee in the air ducts again.
6.The cat is NOT a chew toy…The dog is not either!
5. Where exactly is our goldfish again? What do you mean you were playing Jonah?
4. The cat does NOT need a haircut! I said NO! Now unplug the razor and let go of the cat!
3. Apologize for telling the lady her boobs were on the wrong way!
2. Apologize  for telling the man his head looked like your Mr. Potatohead!

1.Stop playing and start pooping!

You know you have a boy when…

I love my son, and I always thought when I talked about having kids, I would want one of each. One girl, one boy. I was a giant tomboy so I get the sports thing, I get fishing, and climbing trees and more. But I was not quite prepared for the hilarity of actually HAVING a boy. The moments like the one I shared with Holdin Holden and black fuzzy junk (You can read about this epic moment here : http://holdinholden.blogspot.com/2012/01/potty-modesty-and-black-fuzz.html) are just the tip of the fart covered, snot nosed, grubby handed, weeds as flowers, awesomeness that comes from having a boy. I have found matchbox cars in the fridge. Army men doing recon in the fruit bowl, the shower, my shoe. But this morning, yes, this morning was the epitome of crazy boy conversations.

Hurricane was getting ready for school, and I could NOT get him to stay on task. Finally I offer to race him. He loves competition so I figure there is no way I can have the breakfast mess clean before he washes his face and gets dressed. After 15 minutes of cleaning, still no sign. So, like any good mom I scream “We have to leave in TEN MINUTES WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”, and I hear…silence.

Any mom knows…silence means sleeping, dead, or in trouble. So I finished packing his lunch and head up to find him. As I am walking up the stairs, I yell out, “Hurricane? Where are you dude? Are you dressed yet?” He yells back “MOM! I am in the bathroom. Come in here and check out my pistol!” YES. You read that right. Check. Out. My. Pistol. So…being the totally amazingly mature adult I am, I broke into peals of laughter. In the meantime I hear “MOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM. What is so funny? I just want you to check out my pistol!” So I cautiously open the bathroom door, fully expecting my non bashful son to be standing there a la Magic Mike. Instead I see he is holding a pistol. Carefully crafted out of all black and grey Legos. Which he built while taking a poop. Legos on the toilet. Some kids would go for a book, but whatever works. Now a car ride to school to figure out how to explain why “looking at his pistol” was so hilarious. 😉