Now that we're men......

Last night, in my eyes, I did this totally amazing thing along side Ms. P.

At the clogging studio we were in deep girl, God, and geek gab ....not necessarily in that order. When I say deep, it was almost an hour past the time we were supposed to have left the studio to head home. The class had ended around 9:00pm and our girls were still gabbing, so we continued to gab.

Hear this! Because we were totally gabbing incessantly for two hours barely stopping for breath.....in my car.....with the interior lights on the whole time.......at 10:00pm... my interior lights suddenly went dim.

I say to myself, "Self....I bet your battery is getting weak." I crank my car up, uumm, no I don't cause it won't crank.

tick, tick, tick, tick. tick,

try again

tick, tick, tick, tick

My jaw drops, Ms. P's jaw drops, our teen girls in the other vehicle show us that our jaw dropping syndrome has contaminated them also.

A- D is going to kill me....he is packing for a trip to Orlando in the morning.

Ms. P - I think I have jumper cables

A- (furry bunnies and rainbows....in terror. Cause somebody had to hook them thangs up)

Ms. P can't find them, she calls her husband, they discuss at length how to hook the cables up while I read the directions on the packaging.

Ms. P's husband is at home in one direction far from the studio and D is at home far away in the opposite direction from the studio, and we are out too late anyway....it just wasn't optimal.

Ms. P relays that Mr. P has said we should hook up red, black, black, red (or vice versa or something). We shouldn't let them touch... insert some more directions and technical stuff that I am starting to tune out because I'm afraid to hook the jab-O's up. All my life I have heard that some somebody's car blew up, somebody got venom spewed in their face and their face burned off, acid melted their clothes off and onto their skin and falalala la lala la la.

When I come to my senses Ms. P is standing in front of me with a red and a black in her hands and I with a red and black in my hands and we aren't letting them touch.....staring at each other.

The thing is we haven't even moved our vehicles yet and our vehicles are turned off.

A- Can you do this?

Ms. P - I think so...

Frick and Frack...the two willies decide first we should move the vehicles into proper position. After all the cables were touching each other in the bag right?

Move the vehicles. We are on the right track. We've done step one according to her package instructions. The vehicles are nose to nose without touching each other....

It is clear we are both leery of hooking the exploding battery acid face eating machine cables up. I feel extreme anxiety rising within as she and I are looking for exact locations at which to position these 4 pincher's.

I make the decision to call D finally.

A- (sweet) Helllllooo.

D- Where are you?

A- At the studio, my battery is dead.

D- Does Meg have cables?

A- funny thing.....yes, but Babe, I am afraid to hook them up and so is she, can you just come here and do it?

D- Really, Amy? I mean you can do this. Just put the positive on the positive and the negatasdkl lksjdji kjshdjhiuh nasjdhk and jhh yuy xernhg uyg.....

I don't hear him anymore he's speaking Japanese to me cause I am afraid.

So I put him on speaker phone for directions as I am using the cell phone for a flash light. Ms. P doesn't have a cell phone so this is it.

It is clear to him I am not listening well and about to panic which equals buggin out. D determines that I am going to do this. He determines he is not driving across the Untied States at 10pm...when I am "this close" the fix myself.

D- (on speaker phone....and BTW Ms. P is a deacons wife...not that it should matter it's just an ironic situation, that caused me to snicker a little in the after thoughts when I got home.) Put the "not the dam that beavers build" red cable on the "not the dam that beavers build" positive bolt, Amy, Now!

A & Ms. P(we laugh a little) - Easy Tiger, yer on speaker phone.

D - I don't care hook up the red cable and then do the black one, now, DO IT.

I totally hooked'em up. I was half way there. Ms. P is standing close beside with her 2 cables not touching. Like surgeons with special tools I take one from her hand and D tells me where to hook it on my car. Then the last one is placed on the black negative on my battery.

Not the optimal place I learned cause that is the crisis point at which a battery could explode with my face next to it. When I read the directions though it said not to hook it next to this fuel line and that cable and x,y,z...so I was afraid again cause I have a Hyundai and I don't know which line is which. I recognized the windshield washer fluid and so did Ms. P and all that was plastic. One is supposed to connect the last black one to a metal bolt or something. I was supposed to look away, but I forgot....cause I was having an anxiety attack in my mind.

So the moment of truth has arrived. The connections have been made. D relays Ms. P should start her vehicle and slowly rev the engine.

A- Okay go start your car and give it some gas.

D- No.. I said slowly give it some gas (Ms. P is revving up to start a Nascar race). Tell her to stop that.

I don't listen and go get in my car and crank it right up.

......insert redneck hooting and hollering in downtown, at night, behind some random building, with no lights on and 6 girls jumping up and down totally being girls.

D- Come home. ... and be careful, the deer are out tonight.

Insert some more jumping up and down and girly screaming cause BY GOLLY!! WE ARE WOMEN HEAR US ROAR FOR PETES SAKE!!!!!!

I know D helped talk us through that and he used some man words to do it......but I swear in my mind I felt like we did it all by ourselves. I mean really, we were nervous, but we seriously overcame it and just totally did the freaking man deed.

Ms. P calls her husband and relays to him we have done the deed. He asks her if we unhooked the cables. I told her you should have told him, "No, that's their leash, the whole clan need to be on a leash."

Even Ms. P's daughter and May told us they were proud of us. We had a big, 6 female, jumpy, girly group hug put our hands in the center and "Go Ladies" on three...1, 2, 3...GO LADIES!

I smiled myself to sleep last night cause I rocked my own world for a change.

I love hanging out on Monday's with Ms. P. It makes me feel strong and mighty in every way.

I dedicate this song to you Ms. P. We "passed the test and finished the quest!"
Hope you have an awesome Tuesday!!!!!

To tuck or not to tuck, my friends, that is the blasted question........

Cole had his very first ever soccer game yesterday.

We have been waiting since he signed up for his first big game. I made sure he ate well all day. I made sure he had a nap. I made sure all his gear was clean and ready to be put on when he woke up from his nap. Maysie had her Flip to record all the fun stuff, Zac had the water bottles ready to go, we all rubbed Sky's magic belly for good luck, D got home a little early so we could all ride together.

Excitement in the Williams household.

Did all that preparation work for me?


um, no.


Before we left Z told CB he'd have to tuck his shirt in. The little kid's shirts are too long. I had personally hoped they wouldn't have to be tucked in at the age, cause that would be a lot of tucking. But alas it was a rule that must be obeyed for the game. CB almost had a melt down at the house about tucking that shirt in. I had asked Z to just leave him alone I figured once we got to the field I would casually tuck it in and we'd move on.

um, no.

D casually tucked his shirt in once at the field and all was well in the universe. All the stars lined up properly till CB burst into tears and wanted his shirt untucked.

About this time I was walking up with the cooler full of after game drinks and snacks. I am like what the heck is wrong now? M, Z, D, & CB all at once try to explain to me that CB will not tuck his shirt in. No shirt tucked in = no playing(to put the pressure on).

Z is in shear panic the whole game cause CB isn't going to get to play and CB is sabotaging himself with his pride...it is literally making Z crazy. May is going on about how she can't film him and trying to guilt him. Sky is rubbing it in his face that he is not going to get to have a Capri-Sun drink and fruit roll up by drinking a Capri-Sun drink in his face. CB doesn't care his pride is now firmly cemented. I am embarrassed by his behavior and trying to do the right parenting thing. Secretly on the inside, I want to insist that he get his butt on the field and play like he is supposed too or pull my hair out strand by strand with a pair of tweezer in sheer torture.

To make a hour and a half long story short. I told him we had paid for all that gear and he committed to playing on the team, now Dad had committed to coaching and by golly HE WAS GOING TO TUCK THAT STUPID SHIRT IN EVEN if he sat in the chair on the sidelines.

Which is what he did.

That little boy had determined in his mind that if he had to have his shirt tucked in, he WAS NOT GOING TO PLAY...even if Jesus came back I don't think he would have got up out of that chair, he was so full of himself. Strand by strand I tell you......

Not once did he ask me to get up, not once did he say he would play. He would only convey that I was being mean and he wanted his shirt untucked.

After the game he did not ask for a Capri-Sun or fruit roll up not even in the car on the ride home. D handled the whole thing much better than I thought he would. I thought he would read him the Right Act about his attitude, but he didn't. He conveyed his disappointment and explained how the team had to work harder because he didn't do his part. Explaining how other team members had to be extracted from the opposing team to fill in his spot and relayed what we put down as parents for him to play. When we got home we made him go to his room for a while and then onto bed. He was not happy about that at all.

I conveyed to D that I was proud of him for not losing his temper and handling CB so well. The other kids clapped for him and gave him the standing ovation treatment. They were proud of him too.

In the end though, when I kissed CB goodnight, he was happy. It was as if that evening had never happened and had been erased from his mind.

CB- Goodnight Mommy, I want to give you a kiss on the lips(its his thing).

A- (kiss, big squeezy hug) Okay CB see you in the morning. After tonight we are never going to bring this up again okay. You are going to be expected to do better with out having to be reminded of this day.

CB- I know Mommy. I am going to play next time. I want to play soccer. I'm going to wear my shirt tucked in. (He is telling me these things so easily, they are just flowing out smooth and velvety....I just can't understand why he so happily says them now and so stubbornly refused them just 3 hours earlier.)

A- Okay, sounds good( I give him a big hug and leave)

CB- Go get Daddy and tell him I want a kiss goodnight please.

I tell D.

D and CB have some conversation I can't hear over the air purifier though I am trying so hard to hear it my eyes are squinting for better reception. I can't make it work and move on.

Later that evening, I was conveying to D my severe agitation at having to tuck the dumb shirt in anyway, cause they were too long. To which he said something along the lines of - Thats what's wrong with kids. They aren't made to follow the rules, they make them up as they go along and they expect everyone in life to play along. When kids don't get their way they pride up, people give in and, they learn that if they stomp their feet long enough they get what they demand and don't have to earn it and to heck with respect for themselves or anyone else....the shirt tucked is a principle point about respecting the rules of the game, himself, and his team mates, and his coach. (in a quick nutshell)

I understood that perfectly and it was very valid.

Ugh!! My inability to know how to deal with it publicly was frustrating. It put me on the spot about my child's pride issue. All the peeps in our little family pull their weight pretty good, especially when pressed. Last night Cole did exactly the thing that none of my children have ever done...wait me out and won, while wallowing in pride. I commented to one parent, half joking-half not, that I ought to make him wear his pajamas tucked in to bed tonight. I didn't though...cause he sleeps in his underwear....

I have seen kids do that kind of stuff before, but I had always had the whole "not my kid syndrome." Consistently, CB has been the one who teaches me how to handle parenting skills that I have never had to access before.

I mean it really is a truth that no two kids are the same. Some may come close, but they are not the same. I can see distinct differences in all 4 of my children.

This goes back to me saying 100 times.....

Parenting is freaking hard work!

I have to just keep telling myself.....he's only been alive for 4 years, he is still a super young human with a lot more lessons to learn....


......and teach me about parenting apparently.


Thank you God for grace, I crave it.

*

Jesus likes children that slobber on themselves in their sleep........

CB walks in the living room with only his Cars underwear on.

He has a Staples, red "easy" button. When one presses the button it says, "That was easy."

CB walks in the living room with only his Cars underwear on. He has the "easy" button on his left breast area.

CB - Hey Dad, press my talking boob.

Dad presses......."That was easy"

D - Yeah, I heard that on one of my first dates.

...................................................................

Last week I cooked dinner 3 nights in a row.

My kids gave me a standing ovation on the third night.

I felt good about that.

....................................................................

May discussing with Z regarding Z going to the beach, Z going to camp, Z going here, Z going there and so on and so forth.....

Z to May - May you could've went to the beach and to camp and you chose not to, so whatever dork.

M to Z in a geeky voice- Yeah well, I'm going to Camp Stay At Home, where we learn how to be Homies. (with her hands posed all gangsta)

I laughed.

..................................................................

Cole is helping me make garlic toast for Sky to eat with dinner cause we are all eating Texas Toast. He is using a basting brush to "paint" on melted dairy free butter and garlic powder.

CB - Hey Sky, guess what?! I made you a surprise! I made you dairy free toast with a paint brush!.....and guess what??!! There aren't any hairs on it!!

.................................................................

I am trying to get CB down for a nap after swimming at the lake for 3 hours after church.

He isn't having it. Tantrum and rebellion.

I pick him up like a sack of potatoes under my arm and carry him kicking and screaming to his room. He is hollering, "Jesus doesn't like it for you to put me in a nap."

A- No. Jesus doesn't like you disrespecting Momma.

CB- No Momma. Jesus just doesn't like Momma.

I put him on his bed with a firm solid purpose, covered him up, and laid down beside him for a second to settle him down. I swear in 4 minutes flat the joker was slobbering on himself.

Jesus likes children that slobber on themselves in their sleep.