Playing the Prince

“Here Mommy, I will be the beautiful princess and you will be the handsome prince.”  Little Miss approaches me in one of her many princess dresses, in her hand is a bright green cape adorned with dollar signs.

The cape, circa 2008.

I hate that cape.

It is scratchy.

And annoying.

And it reminds me of our worst vacation ever to Lake George a few years back where we won that cape at an amusement park.

But I take it from her and put it on.

“Why do I have to wear this cape?  Do all princes wear capes?”

There is no reasoning with a three year old.  “Mommy, you have to wear the cape so you can be the handsome prince and rescue the beautiful princess from the dragon.”

“Yes, but why do I have to wear the cape?”

“C’mon Prince!” I’m not winning this one…

“Ok, where’s the beautiful princess?” I say, putting on the scratchy, annoying  worst vacation ever cape.

“MOMMY!  I’m right here!”

“Oh, YOU’RE the beautiful princess?”

“Yes, now lets go fight the dragon!”

“Wait, I thought I was supposed to rescue you from the dragon. Not fight it with you.”

“Look!  There’s the dragon!  Let’s go fight it!” she says pointing to our 9 month old husky puppy.

The dragon!! AHHHHH!!

“But that’s Chewey!  That’s not a dragon!”

“MOM! We have to go fight the DRAGON!”

“Oh, alright, but you should really change your dress, I don’t think Snow White would appreciate it if you got her dress dirty fighting a dragon.”

“We’re going to get you dragon!” Insert various fighting sound effects here. 

Dragon, disguised as a nine month old husky puppy, yawns, rolls over.

“C’mon Prince!  Let’s get that dragon!”

“Wait!  Do you really think we should try to fight the dragon if he’s sleeping?  I mean, he’s not really bothering anybody right now.”

“MMMMMOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!”

“Ok, ok…  let’s get the dragon!”

Dragon, sensing that something is afoot, gets up and walks to the back door wanting to be let out.  He wants nothing to do with this.

“YAY!!  We ran the dragon, out of town!  HOORAY!! Now we can go take a nap.” I say, my hand reaching up to remove the scratchy, annoying, worst vacation ever cape.

“No, there’s another dragon over there!” She’s intent on “getting” a dragon.

“There is?  Where?”

“Over there. By that chair.”

“What color is it?”

“Ummmmmmmmm, pink.”

“With purple polka dots?”

“YEAH!”

“Oh, we can’t fight him…  there’s a law against fighting pink dragons with purple polka dots.  We could go to jail.”

“We’re not going to jail!  There’s no police to take us to jail!  Let’s fight that dragon!”

“Look!!  Max and Ruby is on!”

“Max and Ruby!!  Can I have a snack??”

And thus ends my stint as the handsome prince wearing a green, scratchy, annoying, worst vacation ever cape.

I love playing with my kids.  And really, why WOULDN’T you want to play the prince to this??  

The Beautiful Princess

This is an original ROSCMM post and was written for the From Left to Write Book Club. and was inspired by The Costume Trunk, by Paddywhack Lane, a copy of which I received free from the publisher for the purposes of this book club, and no, you can not steal my content unless you specifically ask me for it first. It’s called copyright, yo.

NO CAPES!!

 

Copyright 2011 MastermindMommy

Kid randomness…

“No Kayla you can’t have the nunchuck,” my seven year old scolds his two year old sister.

Me:”Just let her have the nunchuck for Pete’s sake!”
Him: “Ok, Kayla, but if you break it, it’s going to be $30 out of your allowance.”

I wonder when he’s going to get it… HE doesn’t even get an allowance, what makes him think his sister would… And it’s not cause I don’t want to give him an allowance. It’s that HE DOESN’T DO ANYTHING TO EARN AN ALLOWANCE!

Anyway… It makes me chuckle to listen to my son talk to his sister. The age difference is very evident and he talks to her like she’s seven like him. (Of course it doesn’t help that I talk to HIM like he’s 31, like me.) It’s funny to listen to her tell me things about Jupiter (pronounced “JOO-PER -ERR”) and Spongebob (“Bunbob”).

He gives her homework when he comes home from school and she eagerly sits to do it.  They are very attached to each other although I think there’s still some jealousy over my attention.  He’s getting better though and she just doesn’t understand.

You know, as much as I complain that he never shuts up, I think it’s pretty great that my son’s interested in space.  Maybe he’ll be an astronaut when he grows up, or maybe a rocket scientist.  Or maybe an Astro-rocket scientist-naut.  I just hope he doesn’t talk so much.  He reminds me of that kid in the Toys R Us commercial who constantly talks about Dora.

Photo courtesy of Chris LoBello photography.  He’s my cousin.  You should TOTALLY check him out!!

Oh shit! The baby learned a new word!!

This is a quote by an unknown author that I came across years ago and have since posted in this most glittery type on my MySpace page.

No truer words have been spoken…

Now, I have a foul mouth.  I know this, I admit it, hell, I’m freaking proud of it!   My favorite curse word is fuck.  I use it all the time.  Baby’s awake in the middle of the night? Fuck.  Son is late for school?  Fuck. Husband wakes me in the early morning looking for his keys/phone/wallet?  Fuuuuuuuck.  Lady driving down major road only to make a right turn without her blinker on to the same highway I’m trying to turn onto from the other direction while talking on her cell phone?  Why don’t you put down your fucking cell phone and put on a fucking blinker, you fucking moron! Oh, sorry, did I say that out loud??

Without a doubt, I am at my foulest when I’m driving.  My son has learned to ignore me when I’m cursing in the car at some idiot who can’t decide what lane to drive in or whether he should stop or go when the light is green, but my daughter…  she’s another story.

I try my best to curb my language around her.  I try to say things under my breath so she can’t hear me or change the words to nonsense so she doesn’t pick them up.

When my son was her age, he used to sit on my lap during the stale and boring hours spent in my husband’s pet store and watch me play Bejeweled or Zuma on the computer.  (this was before my obsession with Facebook, Twitter, and blogging)  Often times when I’d lose or mess up I’d change my curse words to things like “fart knocker” and “cracker jack” until he started using them.  I don’t know what it is, but when the words “fart knocker” came out of my toddler son’s mouth they sounded more dirty than the words they were made up to cover! (in actuality, it came out more like “fock nocka” in his cute little toddler-speak)

I’ve heard that you become more relaxed with your second child.  It’s true yes.  I’ve become much more laid back with my daughter than I was with my son.   With my son, if his pacifier fell on the floor, I’d pick it up and not let him put it back in his mouth until I washed it in warm soapy water.  With my daughter, it depends on where we are and how dirty the floor is…  My son would get a bath as soon as he came in from outside to wash off any dirt or germs he may have picked up from our 15 minute jaunt in the back yard.  With my daughter…  they say you gotta eat a pound of dirt in your life…  My son wasn’t allowed in the PlayPlace at McDonald’s until he was at least 4.  My daughter’s 2 and she OWNS that place!  I used to yell at my husband and his friends for the language they used around my very impressionable little boy…  I’m surprised my daughter’s first words weren’t “bullshit” and “mother fucker”.

Anyway, the moral of the story here kids is that this morning I was getting ready for my 11:30 doctor’s appointment.  I was dressing my daughter and I stole a look at the clock.  10:51 and I hadn’t showered yet after my Jillian Michaels workout (day 20, yeah!).  “Shit!” I muttered, hoping it was low enough that she didn’t hear.  Nope.  For the next ten minutes my almost 27 month old daughter sat in front of “Sesame Street” uttering her newly acquired word.

Shit.

Mother of the Year!!  Right here!!

Not even toddler farts!

There are lots of cute things in this world… puppies, kittens, babies, Johnny Depp, my Facebook profile pic, my daughter when she says “Help me! Help me! Ayudame!” (we watch WAY too much Dora and Diego).

But, there also some things in this world that are NOT cute!

1. My husband when he makes comments about my ass and then grins at me and says “What did I say?” Not funny, Asshole.

2. My seven year old still referring to his private parts as “Mr. Winkie”. He knows the real words for it, he just refuses to use any of them.

3.Vomit- any time any where.

4. Me before my first cup of coffee.

5. My Dad- the morning person… Him: “Good morning, Jennifer.” Me:”Good morning to you too Captain Chipper, now shut up and get out from between me and my coffee!”

6. Me in a bikini (or any of my pre-pregnancy clothing not that I EVER had the body to wear a bikini but you understand)

7. Me on the Wii Balance Board trying to do Yoga (uh huh…).

8. My husband making fun of me as I try to do yoga on the Wii Balance Board (again, not funny, Asshole)

9. My son announcing to me that while he was taking his shower that he “gave the bathtub a bath too” and half the fucking bottle of soap is gone…

And finally…

10. My daughter waking me up at 3am to go “pee pee potty” and then doing nothing but farting…   “Ha ha Mommy!  I fart!”

Welcome to my world…  feel free to run away screaming…

My Size Barbie = Mattel FAIL!! and other Barbie related ramblings…

In the words of my 8th grade earth science teacher Mr. Black, my best friend Eileen is the greatest thing since sliced freakin’ bread.  She’s smart, beautiful and successful.  She’s my weekly stress relief, my partner crime (wanna see my scar?).  I would move mountains for her if she needed me to and she would do the same for me.  There are so many things in her life that I am COMPLETELY and UTTERLY jealous of, ie her loving husband, her three beautiful children, her gorgeous house and the fact that she can have all this AND work full-time as a nurse AT NIGHT!!  (*Note to all you working mommies out there, she’s not the only one deserving of props for busting her ass at work and at home, you all are on the top of my prop list.) I admire her strength, her wit, her sense of humor and the no-nonsense way about her.  She don’t take no shit (yes, I know that’s a double negative) and if you even try to give her any, she’ll turn around and tell you where to stick it and how fast to spin!  She’s also my source for phrases like “Your mother’s ass!” and “I’m gonna beat you with a big stick!” and “I’ve got a severe case of IHP!”.

Can you tell which is the real kid??

There is however one thing in Eileen’s life that I do not envy…  For her daughter’s fifth birthday someone bought her a “My Size Barbie”.  Oh. My. God.  This thing stands about three feet tall, and weighs as much as a newborn baby.  She’s got a painted on body suit and shoes (to prevent the awkward naked barbie lying in the middle of the living room and there are no kids around syndrome) and a dress and tiara that can be worn by the child as well as the doll.   Now don’t get me wrong, the kids love her…  I, on the other hand, think it’s FUCKING CREEPY!

As soon as I saw that thing come out of the box I had visions of the kids going to bed and the doll coming to life and murdering mommy and daddy.  There have been a number of times when I mistook it for another kid cause the damn thing stands by itself and the kids leave it in the middle of the room.  Just the other day I walked into Eileen’s living room (cause I practically live there) and found the fucking thing sitting in the recliner like it was just part of the gang!  Anybody seen the movie Child’s Play?  Yeah. Uh huh.  My point exactly.  Eileen told me the day after her daughter got the thing, they put the kids to bed and then had to put Barbie to bed as well cause it felt like she was watching them.  Can you imagine trying to have sex watching TV in your own living room only to look over to find this little stiff-legged blond bitch smiling at you??

Now, maybe Eileen’s brother is right, maybe I’m just jealous cause I wanted one as a child and never got it…  Yeah, no, that’s not it at all…  even as a kid I thought that fucking thing was creepier than my great uncle and his staring problem.  So if anyone out there thinks it’s a good idea to get somebody’s kid a doll like that, make sure it’s somebody ELSE’S kid, not your own (or mine, thankyouverymuch).  Or you may never be able to have sex watch TV in your own living room again without having the feeling of being watched.  Don’t be surprised if you wake up in the middle of the night and find her standing at the side of your bed… staring… smiling…  And where did that big meat cleaver go that you ALWAYS keep in the butcher’s block on the counter??

Speaking of Barbie, I’d like to take a minute to share with you the hilarity of my life.  I’ve started potty training my daughter (it’s a week earlier than I wanted to, but hey, what the hell) and just today she was sitting on the potty and playing with the Barbie dolls she got for Christmas.  We go through our usual “Hi, I’m Barbie doll.” introductions and then suddenly, she makes them kiss.  Barbie’s first lesbian kiss?  SOMEBODY GET MY KID A KEN DOLL!!  Not that I have anything against lesbians, mind you, but let me clarify what she was playing with…  One was an actual Barbie doll, the other was a knock off from Big Lots.  You know the one where you go to make her sit down and her legs spread?  The one that’s got flesh colored panties? At least Mattel paints a body suit on Barbie to prevent the afore mentioned naked Barbie syndrome.  It’s like Barbie was got drunk one night at a frat party and decided to experiment with the two bit hooker three doors down and now she’s got crabs.  If Barbie is going to be a lesbian she can at least have the decency to get it on with another hot Barbie like Miko (Barbie’s Island friend).  And so what if Barbie and Ken broke up??  They can still be friends (with privileges), right??  BUT I digress…