So, apparently there’s some hullabaloo in the media over Shiloh Jolie-Pitt and her apparent gender identity issues. Why do they think she has gender identity issues? Because she has a short haircut.

Now just wait a minute. Hold the presses. A three year old girl with short hair? I’ve never heard of such a thing. What kind of parent would do that to her little princess girl-child?

Huh. Short hair = I think I’m a boy. Yep. There’s some sound logic. *cough*

(Yes, that’s me with a bowl cut and red track suit at the age of not-quite-three. Yes, I’m a girl. You wanna make something of it?)
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Head on over to The Bad Mom’s Club to see lots of perfectly gender non-confused moms and their short childhood haircuts. You know you want to.

Filed under: Keepin' it Real, Me by WWS (Lynn) - 1 Comment →

(Um, yeah. Oops. I accidentally hit “publish” without finishing. Oh well. I guess it speaks for itself. 15 glowsticks for $1.50 = cheap fun for the kids. Woo!)

Fun With Glowsticks from Walking With Scissors on Vimeo.

Fun With Glowsticks 2 from Walking With Scissors on Vimeo.

Fun With Glowsticks 3 from Walking With Scissors on Vimeo.

Filed under: Happy Happy, Offspring, Random by WWS (Lynn) - No Comments →

Two weeks ago, I bought a vinyl wall decal off Etsy.

(When Lucky noticed the receipt in our inbox, he exclaimed, “Quit buying crap off Etsy!” Apparently, he’s not as into crafting as I am. Wonder what he’ll say when he finds out that I have big plans to hock sell crap beautifully handcrafted items of my own on Etsy one of these days? But I digress…)

Until it arrived yesterday, I’d been not-so-patiently waiting for my new purchase. (I love new stuff! I love mail! WOooO!!) I had it out of the box and up on the wall less than ten minutes after I noticed it on my front porch.

Cute, right? An “enjoy your meal” sign, complete with cutlery, right above the pantry. Hey? Right?

When my husband saw it, he wasn’t exactly on the same page as me.

Bon Appetit? Really?

Yeah, isn’t it cute? I really love the cutlery.

Well, yeah. I guess. Without the cutlery, it would look really stupid.

According to Lucky, my wall art only looks a little stupid. For him, that’s almost a compliment. And after he determined that yes, it does come off if we ever tire of it, he dismissed the whole thing from his mind and will probably never notice it again.

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We’ve been in this house for about 3.5 years now and slowly but surely, I’m starting to fill the walls with art. I’ve noticed a bit of an unintentional trend with the things I’ve been choosing:

French…

French…

French…

Two of the pieces are for bathrooms and one is for the pantry. Apparently, all of these locations need a bit of classing up and what better way to do it than being all so-fist-ee-kated with my fancy French artwork? (By sophisticated, I mean that one was purchased off Etsy for $14, one was purchased at Zellers for $9.95 and one was purchased at Walmart for $4.95. I’m a big spender, folks.)

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Yesterday, using a combination of stickers, a pen and her own imagination, Lily came up with this:

That would be her, marrying her brother. At age five, she thinks it’s the most normal thing ever. When she hits about twelve, I think I’ll show it to her again, just to watch her dissolve into fits of, “EwwwwwwUH. Gross!“, because that’s just the kind of loving mother I am.

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Speaking of Lily, the little princess had her ears pierced last month. She was bound and determined that she wanted beautiful earrings and promised that she would sit still and be brave, even if it hurt. She pinky swore that she would take good care of her earrings. Pinky swearing is a big deal. How could I refuse?

This ear is so teeny tiny! It’s a sweet little squishy ball of cuteness. I can’t believe I’m about to pay someone to disfigure it…

The ear piercer is marking off the spot with a pen and Lily is getting mighty nervous. Luckily for her (and me!) they had two ear piercers on staff that day and she had them both done at once.

Victory! There were a few tears, but they were nothing a glance in the mirror, a sucker and a chance to sit on a tiny too-small-for-her carousel couldn’t fix.

Aww. Tiny little pink flowers!

Even with holes poked in them, Lily’s ears are still teeny, tiny, squishy, adorable little balls of cuteness…
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Just after Christmas, we purchased two budgies to replace the ones that suddenly, and mysteriously passed away a few weeks earlier. (It sucks, we don’t know what happened. I’m not going to dwell on it here, though.) The new budgies are jittery and somewhat bitey sweet, but, if I may say so, dumb as a box of rocks.

The budgies have a habit of sitting in their food and water dishes. They back their little bums right up in there. And, as budgies are wont to do, they poop. A lot. In their food and water dishes. Now, I know that budgie enthusiasts claim that they are roughly as intelligent as a three year old child, but to that, I say this: My children knew (long before the age of three, might I add) that food is for eating, not pooping on. Even further, I’d wager that most three year olds know that food is for eating, not pooping on. In my opinion, any creature that thinks pooping on its food is an acceptable thing to do is less intelligent than the average human toddler. Seriously. Gross little creatures…

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And last, but not least, allow me to draw your attention over to my review blog. I have three fantastic giveaways up there right now. If you’re a parent of boys or a parent of girls, or a parent of both, you’ll want to go there and comment for a chance to win. No strings attached. Just good old-fashioned giveaway goodness! (Just do it. You know you want to.) Clicky clicky!

Filed under: Happy Happy, Keepin' it Real, Me, Offspring, Out of the Mouths of Babes, Random by WWS (Lynn) - 1 Comment →

Occasionally, I will catch myself doing or saying something very grown-up (“it’s time to study your spelling words”, “that music is so loud; I can’t hear myself think”) and I’ll wonder how it is that I look and act exactly like a 33 year old woman when I still feel like a very un grown-up kid a lot of the time.

I am an adult and have been for quite some time.  The birthdate on my driver’s license says so. The fact that the checkout girl at the liquor store asks for my ID not because she believes I’m under 18 but to verify that I haven’t stolen someone else’s credit card in order to purchase my grandmotherly bottle of Bailey’s Irish Creme. The way my bones snap, crackle and pop like a bowl of Rice Krispies when I get up off the couch and the way that I can throw my back out with an out-of-nowhere sneeze evidences that I’m not in my teens (heck, twenties) anymore.

I spend my days meal planning and grocery shopping. I vacuum, clean the toilets and do an obscene amount of laundry. I chauffeur the kids back and forth to school and extra-curricular activities. I confer with their teachers about how they’re doing. I make and enforce the household rules. I help the kids with homework and manage to answer all of their questions like I actually know what I’m talking about. I am a wife, mother and homemaker. I’m even relatively successful at it.

I got a steam mop for Christmas and I was happy about it. Why? Because, when asked what I wanted for a gift, it was the only thing I could think of that I really, really wanted. Because getting down on my hands and knees to scrub the floor sure does a number on the old joints, don’t ya know.

I rarely drink alcohol and when I do, I limit myself to one or two because life doesn’t just stop when you’d like to let loose. Sometimes, I just want silence. My idea of finding something fun to spend extra cash on is buying a cute outfit for the kids at Gymboree. Or purchasing that terry towel shower curtain that I’ve been looking all over the place for. I wear flats because they’re practical. I put a toque on when it’s cold because you lose most of your body heat through the top of your head and vanity has no place in the middle of winter.

Despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I still feel like a kid. I do a double-take every time someone calls me “ma’am.” I sometimes find it odd that my kids look up to me as though I’m a grown up, especially when they assume that I have the answers to everything. Clearly I’m flying by the seat of my pants here. For some reason, though, they don’t see that. Bless their little hearts, my kids really do believe that I’m a mature, responsible parental figure. What they don’t know is that I am a fraud. Here is how I know: 

When I was growing up, my parents were grown-ups. They did have the answers to everything. They did have everything figured out because even though they claimed to have been children once upon a time, they weren’t really. Or if they had been, it had passed really quickly. They did all sorts of parent-y things like chauffeur my brother and me to school and extra-curricular activities, do obscene amounts of laundry and cleaning, and make and enforce household rules. Obviously, they had this whole adult thing in the bag.  Because, naturally, you must pass some sort of wiseness and general maturity test in order to become parents. Duh.

It didn’t even dawn on me until I became hopelessly entrenched in this whole parenting thing myself that maybe my mom once felt the same way I do now. Like she was really just a kid masquerading as an adult who had everything figured out. That thought made me feel a little bit better about myself because if my mom ever felt like she was flying by the seat of her pants sometimes, it’s okay that I do, too. She’s making her way through parenthood and adulthood in general like she actually knows what she’s doing and, if I’m completely honest, I think I’m doing a pretty good job of it myself. It doesn’t really matter that I feel like an imposter sometimes as long as the rest of the world doesn’t manage to figure it out.

Maybe being stunted is a good thing after all. I don’t have to have everything figured out all the time to be successful in my life. I mean, I’ve come across lots of people who think they know it all and really, those people are kind of assholes. Sucks to be them. Heh.

Filed under: Confessions, Keepin' it Real, Me, Ponderings, Random by WWS (Lynn) - 4 Comments →