It Must Be In The Genes

We all have our favorite pair of jeans. You know the ones. The ones that you have held onto for years. The pair that is perfectly broken in and is as comfortable as your own skin and make your butt look good. The ones that you hold onto and live in, even though they are well past their prime. They show all the wear and tear of the years of comfort they have provided.

The Weasels have taken this concept too far. They refuse to let go of these 'well loved' jeans even though they are too small and are completely falling apart. There are no longer any knees. They are frayed and tattered beyond respectable wear-ability. Jeans so loved they hide them from the regular laundry rotation because they know that mom will throw them out when no one is looking for fear of the laundry sock monster snatching up what would be the tastiest of morsels.

Boy Weasel is a huge offender when it comes to wearing these threadbare remnants of what used to be pants. On Saturday Mr. Weasel put his foot down and forbid Boy from ever donning his favorite pair again. Boy Weasel taking this news in perfect stride asked permission to further desecrate his old faithfuls in order to give them a proper sent off before their garbage can funeral. This was the end result:
It seems that Smallest Weasel is following her brother's example of loving her jeans to death.
Eldest Weasel does not seem to want to put in the time to properly break her jeans in and prefers that someone else does the work for her before purchase.
I have absolutely no idea where these kids got the notion that it is acceptable to dress like this. They really need to learn how to let go. Then again, maybe it's just in their genes.

Nurture Nature

Welcome back for another edition of Fatherhood Friday. Visit Dad-Blogs.com to read some really great fatherhood related posts from some talented bloggers.

You dads out there are scary. You read that right. You dads are scary. It does not matter what you do for a living. It does not matter if you work at home as a slave caretaker or work nights as a serial killer exterminator. As far as your kids friends are concerned, you may as well be the boogie man.

It doesn't matter how long you have known these kids or their families. It doesn't matter how many popsicles you hand out although cash works as a great comfort enhancer, starting right around school age your kids friends will begin to fear you.

This seems to be a phenomenon that passes from generation to generation. I remember feeling this way about my friends dads, as does Mr.Weasel. These dads had never done anything to offend. Yet, whenever they came home or entered a room, we felt the need to scatter like roaches for self preservation purposes.

I conducted a survey in the 12 year old age group and 100% of the respondents (okay, so it was just Boy Weasel) reported feeling this way towards their friends fathers. Even when those fathers were really nice.

Further inquiries (I asked Eldest Weasel) revealed that this natural fear starts to dissipate when the child reaches the Sophomore year of high school.

My research has led me to the hypothesis that this reaction stems from a baser instinct in human offspring, that any moment the adult males of the species will eat the young, for any threat real or perceived. Not a bad idea really, when you see some of these kids.

So if you find yourself impeded in your relationships with your children's friends you can always pick yourself up a tee shirt that sports the word cannibalism ensconced in that red circle with a line through it.

I however find that it's best to work with nature instead of against it and suggest that you harness this power you wield for your own benefit. It can keep unwelcome play pals away from your house, the room you are in will remain peaceful and quiet as neighbor kids scatter in fear away from you and will make it much easier to shake these kids down for snack/clubhouse dues if they are afraid you will eat them for non-payment.

I say nurture nature.

Weasel Updates

This morning I am running a little short on time and feeling a bit non sequitur. Thus, I am just throwing some fragments of life at you this morning.

Kissing a cat's butt (yes, above the tail) must be luckier than four leaf clover or rabbit's foot. The surgeries for boy Weasel and Monkey Weasel went extremely well and on time. It turned out that the head of the outpatient surgical floor, was one of our old neighbors. We were taken care of very well and kept informed every step of the way. The surgeries were successful and both Weasels came out of anesthesia just fine and feeling much better that anyone would expect. I was amazed. We were home by 11am and the hardest part was making them sit still. They felt so good they just wanted to run and play.

Yesterday was the first day of school(1/2 day) for 4 of the Weasels. Both post surgical Weasels went because they wanted to.

Yesterday was Smallest Weasels first day of kindergarten. She was not nearly excited as her older sibs and tried to refuse going or even getting dressed for that matter.
Turns out she had a wonderful day and came home happy and exhausted. Today will be the first full day of school and she is excited about eating lunch there.

Eldest Weasel has started drivers ed. She is old enough and ready for this milestone. However, her parents are nearly old enough to have a child a child who can drive. Nor or they ready.

Tom of Being Michael's Daddy has made this phenomenal promo for Suburban Wow. So have some other nice folks. Melisa and I really appreciate it. Check them out here.

Today being the first full day of school for everyone is the First full day of WeaselMomma's Freedom. I have had children home for 15 years. To celebrate, I am having breakfast with Melisa with 1 S. Yeah, I could get used to this.

No Way To Start Your Day

This morning Boy Weasel and Monkey Weasel are both heading into surgery. Not to worry, it's nothing serious, but it is the first time that either of them is having surgery or general anesthesia. They both showed signs of nervousness as bedtime grew closer, thus Mr. Weasel I allowed them to steal Mr. Weasel's spot in our bed. Monkey would sleep in the middle, Boy Weasel in Dad's spot and I in my regular place.

Sleeping close to mom was enough to comfort them and they quickly fell asleep, as did I.

When I awoke around 4am my face brushed past the soft, sweet hair of a sleeping Weasel. I quickly did the math and surmised this to be Monkey Weasel. After all she had been sleeping next to me. I leaned over to kiss her atop her sweet little head before getting up and staggering to the coffee pot.

At this sweet and tender moment in time a sudden light bulb went off in my head. That wasn't hair. That was fur! That wasn't Monkey Weasel. That was Smores the Cat, who never sleeps far from Monkey. Smores had her entire self cuddled up and sleeping on MY pillow and I had puckered up and kissed her squarely on the hind quarters!

I hope this in no way indicates how the rest of my day is going to go.

Summer's Over

*Don't forget that today at 10am edt/ 9am cdt is the next episode of Suburban WoW. Join Melisa with one S and I for the public debut of my new specs. Click here to watch. Tweet us @SuburbanWow to become part of the show. Spread the word.*

Welcome back for another edition of Fatherhood Friday. Visit Dad-Blogs.com to read some really great fatherhood related posts from some talented bloggers.

It's that time of year again. You know when parents are beaming and kids are sulking. School is back and you know that means, WeaselMomma has a headache.

For 3 entire weeks I have been running around like crazy trying to get all the appointments and school supplies. I really hate these errands. Some of them are asinine, yet mandatory. Some of them are scavenger hunt like and some of them are a wild goose chase.

An example of the asinine is that in certain grades the children must have a dental appointment and the paperwork to prove it. Don't get me wrong, I am all about dental hygiene and care. I just don't see how it's any of the governments business or a public health and safety issue. After all, gingivitis and cavities are not communicable diseases. I can understand being up to date on immunizations of serious and spreadable diseases, I don't see how the government tracking my child's dental health is anything more than an invasion of privacy.

The scavenger hunt comes from the dreaded school supply list.

• 20 blue erasable pens.
• 5 Pocket Folders (1 blue, 1 red, 1 yellow, 1 green, 1 orange)
• 1 pack of 24 crayola crayons.
• 1 pack of 8 crayola crayons.
• 2 pink erasers.

The list just goes on, etc, etc, etc.........
The wild goose chase is an extension of the school supply list. This is when a teacher adds an item to the list that is either too obscure or too specific to be found easily and you wind up running around to 10 different stores and using a half tank of gas to secure the elusive green folder with 1 eyed purple puppy on the cover, 2 pockets and 3 prongs. That is just when I say, you've got to be kidding me.

My reward for accomplishing all these tasks, HOMEWORK! I hate homework. I hated homework when I was in school and I hate it now. Yes, it's a necessary evil. Yes, it is for the good of the student. I still hate it more than brussel sprouts. I graduated. I earned my degree. Why am I still doing homework?

The one positive that I will have this school year. A moment that I have been working 15 years to achieve. For the first time since my trek into motherhood, all of the Weasels will be in school full time. Smallest Weasel starts Kindergarten on Tuesday and I will have my house back for 6 whole hours at a time Monday through Friday.

As far as what I will do with myself, don't worry, I'll figure it out.