Joy In Weaselville

We made it!!!!! We started in late summer. Pranced through the fall. Trudged through the dark cold days of winter. Pushed on head down through the spring and now it's here. Today is the last day of school in Weaselville.

I wanted to celebrate with water balloons and popsicles in the yard. The weather, with an expected high of 65 and rain isn't going to cooperate. I won't that rain on my joy. Today there will be no chores or homework. Today there will be only joy in Weaselville.

I have already thrown away the lunch boxes. After 2 years of daily use and countless trips through the washer, they needed to be put to rest. I hate packing lunches and must admit I really took much pleasure in throwing them away. I am all about simple pleasures.

We will spend the lazy days of summer kicking it old school. Bike riding and playing in the yard will be on the top of the activity list. We will eat our weight in popsicles. Roast hot dogs over the fire pit and hardly use the oven. We will eat grilled everything. We will enjoy the sunshine just as soon as it actually arrives.

There is no summer agenda in Weaselville. We do whatever we feel like on any given day and will just enjoy the fun and relaxation of it all. I think Phineas and Ferb have it exactly right.

Food, Friends And Fun

I over slept this morning. I didn't awake until 6:30 am. Now that won't sound like over sleeping to most of you, but it was enough to send me into a spinning frenzy. How was I going to have my coffee and read my blogs in peace or get a post up before I had to wake the Weasels for school? I am not to be interacted with until I've had my 2nd cup of coffee. I am not a nice person before that 2nd cup. After that 2nd cup is a matter of debate.

I immediately woke Mr. Weasel for work. "Wake up, it's 6:30, you have to hurry". He never wakes up smoothly, "What day is it?". "It's Monday. Hurry, you are going to be late". "No, it's not".

Friday night the family, sans Mr. who was still at work, went to have dinner with friends and played in the yard enjoying the warm weather. I was wearing jeans and quite over heated due to a lack of shorts that still fit in my closet.

Saturday morning I went for a run because I can't fit into my shorts and then Mr. Weasel took me clothes shopping for summer. He knows that if I go alone I will be home in 1 hour and have purchased next to nothing. I hate clothes shopping. Unlike most women shopping is torturous for me. Mr. Weasel comes so that he can imprison me in a dressing room while he makes selections for me to try on. This is exhausting for me. I don't have the estrogen levels to do this. After about 3 hours of pain playing Barbie Doll, we head home with a whole bag full summer clothes just in time for a cold front to move in and the temperatures to plummet.

Once home we needed to ready the Weasels to pile in the car and go to a graduation party for Surprised Mom's oldest daughter. It was warm enough for short sleeves and jeans, but I reminded everyone numerous times to bring along a hoodie or sweatshirt as we would be outside and it would get colder later.

Sure enough, by the time we arrived at the party it was in the high 50's/low 60's and drizzling. Everyone threw on their hoodies. That is everyone except for me. After all of my nagging insistence about bringing something warm, I was the one dumbass who forgot to grab something.

There was another party going on right across the street. Apparently Maria was turning 40. We had to double check the address to make sure we showed up at the right house. We entered the party to the most hospitable of welcomes. "Who are you?" was asked by a cousin. I decided to start my midlife crisis right there. "Hmmm, who am I?" That's quite a philosophical question. I finally admitted that were driving past, smelled food and this is how we take the kids 'out to eat' and that the Congratulations Graduate signs looked more family friendly that the 40th Birthday Bash going on across the street. The laughter started and we were instantly welcomed into the fold. Everyone was friendly and fun. Surprised Mom had even put Coors Light on her shopping her list especially for yours truly. When she noticed the frost bite forming on my arms she ran to get me a sweater from the house. We did the meet and great with many wonderful and fun people. The food was great and the company was even better.

When all was said and done we had a great time and were sent home with 2 boxes of doggie bags That were too good to give to any dog that I know. SM and I did manage to get a picture together, I think it turned out well even if I have no eyes when I smile. And now I will make you all privy to one of the many reasons I love being friends with Surprised Mom. She is one of the few people in this world that I am taller than.

Father's Day Brainstorming

It's Friday! And you all know what that means. Get on over to Dad-Blogs to read some great posts on Father-Hood Friday.

With Father's Day quickly approaching (June 21st) for all of you dads who have no idea when. I hope I didn't ruin the surprise., I have been pondering exactly what gift to get for Mr. Weasel.

Over the years, I have sometimes gone with the traditional (grills and smokers), sometimes with the extravagant (really special bottle of Scotch) and sometimes with the quirky and fun (a super soaker with 2 gallon capacity backpack). All of which, seemed to hit the nail on the head and were enjoyed immensely.

This year I'm having a hard time figuring out what would be the perfect gift. Mr. Weasel is not about the tools (when your that pretty, you don't need to be handy) or the ties (nobody should ever buy dad a tie for Father's Day). He has all the backyard bbq implements his heart desires. Any daddy tech gadgets that he has expressed interest in I don't quite understand and am too cheap to shell out the cash for are out of the price range. There will be no Apple TV this year.

The best gift for him would be one that I can't give. Time & Sleep. These are the things he is short on right now. He has been burning the candle at both ends. Working like a fool trying to start his own company while simultaneously working full time for someone else. He works during his commute. He works late into the night at home and weekends. He is fighting against deadlines.

At the same time, he is still working on being a fully involved dad. Helping with school projects and reports so that his wife doesn't completely lose her mind and giving to his family the very little bit of time he has left. Often sacrificing sleep to do so. He deserves a great Father's Day full of rest and relaxation. If only he could take the day off.

So throw some ideas at me people. Tell me your best ever Father's Day gifts.

Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This

So yesterday was one of those days. You know the kind. We've all been there. The kind where the pain just keeps coming at you unexpectedly from all directions. Days that make your mother-in-law's mashed potatoes look smooth. Yeah, it was one of those days.

It started out fine with the usual morning mayhem of getting everyone out of the house. I returned from the morning school drop-off and pecked out a Dear WeaselMomma column at Dad-Blogs.

I got some chores done around the house while Eldest Weasel decided that we should take a family vacation to Hawaii. I informed her that there is no way that we can take a Hawaiian vacation. Money and time -money especially- are big obstacles to overcome. She continued to research packages/hotels/restaurants et al and informing me of the deals she was finding.

I continued tinkering in the kitchen making some frozen treats with the assistance -and boy am I using that term loosely- of Smallest Weasel. While Eldest is holding on tighter than a pit bull to the idea of Hawaii. "What about your retirement money? Do you have any left? We could use that to go to Hawaii and you and Dad can just live with me" as she whispers loudly to Smallest Weasel "for 3 days". I could feel my left eye start to twitch.

Around 1 pm the phone rings. Middle Weasel is in the school office with extreme pain in her right side. The child is in tears. I call the pediatrician, who of course,is not in the office and am told to take her to the ER to test for appendicitis. I call Mr. Weasel on the way to school and he hops the next train home, I pick up tear filled Middle Weasel and head for the hospital. I make arrangements for the other Weasels to get a ride home after school and spend the next 5 hours in the ER getting beacoup bucks of tests run.

Mr. Weasel opts for ordering a pizza for dinner. I sit and wait for test results. Middle Weasel heads to the restroom and after about 5 minutes feels magically better. UGH. This was a $1000 belly ache. All's well that ends well, but really. Come on. You have got to be kidding me. Sure I'm glad it was nothing serious, but did we really have to spend all that time and money to find out?

Back home, I start emptying kids pockets to throw a load of clothes into the washer....
and what to my wondering eyes do appear
but a folded up paper by Boy Weasel, my dear.
Unfolding the paper, my eyes opened wide.
I thought to myself, this Boy's gonna die.
For this paper I held in my hands once before.
This paper I held on the Friday before.
This paper I held as I had rushed out the door.

That's right. This was the same paper that I hand delivered to the boys classroom in my bathrobe and pigtails. He didn't hand it in! You must be asking yourself "why didn't he hand it in?". I asked the same question. His response "I forgot". You have got to be kidding me! He's been told never to call me from school again, for anything. If his brains are falling out of his head, the teacher will call.

To top things off, after all the dust had settled, Eldest Weasel brings up Hawaii again. "How come we have $1000 for the hospital, but we can't go to Hawaii". Granted, she was kidding, but this kid needs to work on her sense of timing.

WeaselMomma's School of Creative Parenting

It's Finally June. The school year is almost over. Yet, I still find myself fighting the same battles that started in September.

Even after numerous reminders before we rush to the car in the mornings of "do you have all of your stuff?" or "don't forget to bring your gym shoes/lunch/folder/etc.", I still get regular phone calls from school. "Mom, I left my (fill in your own blank) on the dining room table (or in my room), I need you to bring it.

For a while I would bring it. I would let Weasel de jour know my displeasure and move on with the rest of the day. This did not seem to work as a deterrent ~whouda thunk it? I moved on to refusing to bring whatever the forgotten item was. Though sometimes I would feel compelled to bring the forgotten item, for the teacher's sake. It's pretty hard to teach math when the student doesn't have the book to work from.

About a month ago, when bringing a missing item to the classroom, I warned Boy Weasel "The next time I have to bring something, I'm going to bring it in wearing curlers and a house dress". I don't even own curlers or a house dress. He must have taken me somewhat seriously, because it bought me about a month.

This past Friday, shortly after returning home from dropping off at school, the phone rings. It's Boy Weasel of course. "Mom, I left my report on the counter. I need you to bring it right away". My first thought was No, I'm not going to bring it. Quickly, my mind switched gears and I replied that I would be there shortly.

I hung up the phone and walked up stairs. Rummaging through my closet I pulled out an old fleece robe. I walked into my bathroom and put my hair into pigtails. I grabbed my car keys, the forgotten report and headed for school.

The wonderful women in the front office were in stitches and requested a picture.I signed in and made a bee-line to Boy's classroom. Upon entering, his teacher's eyes popped out of her head as she fought to keep a straight face and maintain control of the classroom. All heads in the room turned quickly to see who had come in, including Boy Weasel. He had a nervous, shock filled smile. I walked to his desk and gave him his report. "Mom, why are you dressed like that?". "Because I warned you that I would".

I made him stand up so that his teacher could take a picture.The girls in the back of the room started to snicker. I waved and said "Hi, I'm Boy Weasel's Mom!" and gave my son a kiss on the head. He would have crawled under the floorboards if he could have. As I was leaving the classroom, I overheard one of the boys say "Don't worry Boy Weasel, you'll live this down someday".

Hopefully he will live it down someday, but more importantly, I don't think he will be leaving the house without everything he needs anymore.