Mothering Mayhem: Life with the Wild Boys

Hola, Wild Boy friends and family. We have plunged headfirst into this madness known as the Christmas season, and we have been fully engulfed with holiday madness. Don't get me wrong, we all love it. In the same way people love exercise, because afterwards you get that wonderful feeling of stinky exhaustion and you sleep well. And in the midst of it you get to humble brag to everyone else about how well you're doing with it. So, since I'll never be the woman who gets to casually mention every damn morning how intense her crossfit workout was before work while she sips some protein concoction instead of eating a damn meal, I will for SURE be the one who casually passes out Christmas cards at the BEGINNING of the month and plays it off as if it was no major effort. Real story: A full day was spent trying to juggle house chores and remember who to send cards to - I have A LOT left because the truth is after about 80 I thought to myself "nobody really cares..." and ...

Hello and welcome back Wild Boy friends and family. Yes, there's been a delay, and I won't even apologize because I took a vacation from work for a week which clearly means I had a week of laying around reading, eating bon bons, taking naps, and enjoying day drinking. Ha!!! No, it was totally jam packed with holiday festivities. But well worth it - the cop and I got a tremendous amount done in three short days so I'll call it a win. I got to enjoy two Thanksgivings, and then several days of stretch pants. As it turns out I should always plan days off for after major eating holidays because the several days of recovery means that nobody risks losing an eye when a button on my work uniform gets launched from post-feast stress fatigue. I'm looking out for the good of the department, here. Here in la Casa, we LOVE Christmas. The cop has to force me to wait until the day after Thanksgiving to decorate, but the Christmas music starts in October. Can't help it, I love ...

Hola, wild boy friends and family! Humblest apologies for missing last week's check in, we were a little tied up with a soccer tournament and quite frankly, exhausted. I know we've talked about this before, but I'm pretty sure sleep deprivation is a cornerstone of parenthood. It makes sense, when you think about it - because if you were well rested you'd probably be way more upset about things like being showered with another living beings vomit or poo. So, the whole too tired to care thing is probably pretty critical. I was thinking this morning, though, that a huge part of this is probably self inflicted. See, we all know soccer season is crazy busy up here in la casa. And just when the end was near, and I was about to have my two month break, we found out we made it to district cup and extended the season. Yay... So, being team mom (yeah, I get suckered into that A LOT in soccer), I dutifully helped arrange carpooling and extra lighting with the coach and tr...

Hola, Wild Boy friends and family, and welcome to a very early morning check in from La Casa de Testosterone. It's time change, and here I sit wide awake surveying the damage done during the week by the destructive chaos that is two little boys. I'd clean, but actually everyone else is sleeping. So instead, I'll check in here! This week, we're going to return to a theme I know we've covered before and I'm SURE we'll cover again because it never ceases to amaze me: boys are gross. Now, I know you've read that sentence and probably all chuckled and agreed, which is why I feel it necessary to expand on this a bit. Because the level of grossness I'm talking about here isn't chuckle and small smile to commiserate worthy. The level of grossness I'm addressing deserves PSA's with the little "the more you know" rainbow and star following it. It deserves after school specials with serious music, chronicling the mother broken down...

Hola again, Wild Boy friends and family! Welcome back to another thrilling week in la Casa de Testosterone.  This week found me absent from la Casa. That's right, this week I was the parent that had training for work and had to leave the cop and wild boys alone, on what would prove to be the busiest week of the month of course. I had a training manager's seminar in Monterey, and the cop had work, the boys, the pets, soccer, scouts, a field trip, a school carnival and an awards assembly. You all think I'm awful, right? I felt awful, believe me. No, for real, I was raised Catholic so the guilt that an eight year old can instill when he gives you sad cartoon animal eyes and says something like "but...you ALWAYS go on my field trips with me..." with a little super sentimental lip quiver thrown in is almost enough to make me quit my job. Almost. Then I remember things like the mortgage, and my inability to spend a full day with both boys without actively seeking gyps...

Hola, Wild Boy friends and family, and welcome to an exciting Saturday night in La Casa de Testosterone. Once upon a time, when I was much, much, much, much (you get where this is going, right?) younger Saturday nights meant evenings out. Mind you, I was never really a wild party person, but there were times I went out to dinner and drinks and the like. Today, the cop and I got up at 5:30 a.m. so we could be at the Wild Boy's soccer games at the ass crack of dawn. We sat through two soccer games, had brunch, went grocery shopping and came home where we tried to nap but instead got up every 20 minutes to either pee or tell the boys to "KEEP IT DOWN - WE'RE NAPPING!!!" And now, while other people are prepping for late nights the cop is making homemade pizza sauce while I sit here typing, Gav crouches in what seems like a physically impossible yoga position on top of an exercise ball while telling me over his shoulder repeatedly how sad the ASPCA commercial on TV is, ...

Hola Wild Boy friends and family! Welcome back to La Casa, a wee bit early this week. This week the boys had fall break from school. Without school, I had the opportunity to switch over my schedule for the week and managed to get today off, which should have been great. Unfortunately, I had to take my car in for service. I was bound and determined, though, to make the most of my day with the boys (I owed them a fun outing for Gavin's report card), and decided we could totally do it all. I know, I know, you're thinking I'm a fool. The thing is, our car dealership takes FOREVER to do basic EVERYTHING. Like, drop the car off at 9, pick the car up at 6. So I knew there was time with a loaner car to do whatever we wanted. Our car dealership is also a little bit snooty. So I had to blackmail the Wild Boys a tiny bit - behave while I completed the ridiculously lengthy sign in process and got the loaner and THEN we could do fun stuff. Upon arrival, they were already snarky due to...

Hola, Wild Boy friends and family, and welcome back again to la Casa de Testosterone and the adventures therein. It's been a busy week here in la Casa, full of opportunities for experts to tell me I'm a parental screw up. How's that, you ask? Well, I somehow managed to schedule the boys physicals on the same week as their parent teacher conferences. NOTHING is as nerve-racking as a yearly trip to the doctor so he can assess within fifteen minutes if you're on track as a parent or if your child is doomed for all eternity because they have a television in their room and drink more than six ounces of juice a day. Add to that the twenty minute sit down with the teacher, who has carefully written down notes and held aside some of your kid's work as "examples" of what they're talking about...all in all it's a week I typically finish out needing some whiskey to say the least.  Oh, and on top of all of the extra appointments littered in the week it was als...

Hola Wild Boy friends and family, and welcome back to our weekly tour of chaos, mayhem, and shenanigans otherwise known as parenting. It's October 1, and I'm super stoked to be approaching something more like fall here in la Casa. Evening temperatures are cool, the days are nice enough I don't have to sell my soul to Satan to pay my PG&E bill for the air conditioner, and I can now get away with fall scents to cover up the constant underlying reek of body odor and disgusting shoes. It's delightful. The only glaring exception is soccer Saturdays, when regardless of the forecasted high it will be over 90 degrees (largely because the city we play in is roughly twenty feet above Hell itself) thus ensuring that I will sweat off all my sunscreen, be too engrossed yelling at the game to fix it, and will burn to a healthy shade of "my dermatologist is NOT going to be happy with this" every stinking week. But I digress. This week I actually took a day off work to ...

Hola Wild Boy friends and family! I'd welcome you to another week here, but in all actuality it was a week you'd really like to avoid. Specifically if you like sleep. But I have nobody to blame but myself on this one, so I'll fall on the sword this time. I created paranoid little monsters, and now I'm paying for it. See, I'm super duper terrified of clowns. I know, this seems like a bit of a tangent. I promise, it will all tie back in. Since I was little, just absolutely terrified. Yes, I've watched the clown related horror movies because I LOVE horror movies. But clowns themselves break me out in a cold sweat. Now, as a dutiful parent I've done all the things that are expected of you with small children. We went to the circus years ago. The cop was kind enough to accompany the wild boys down to the floor for the activities near the clowns, and was wise enough to buy me drinks before the show. It was a REALLY long show, and I literally held Gabe and used...

Hola Wild Boy friends and family, and welcome back to another fun filled week in la Casa.  This week was a demonstration of how remarkably busy a family can become when the parentals get separated and commit to different activities without talking to one another. Rookie mistake, right? My Lord, we know better but it happens to us a few times a year and it's ugly. See, we have soccer Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday. Monday for Gabe, Wednesday for both, Thursday for Gav, games on Saturday. They practice in two different towns at exactly the same time, which on Wednesday involves me waiting at one practice until I know at least one parent there, then mentally invoking the invisibility shield on my car to speed to the next one, watching half there, reminding the coach of that team to drop my kid off at the other field when he's done, speeding back, watching half there...All while trying to walk laps and get a few minutes of exercise in (it's pretty sad...I'm pepp...

Hola Wild Boy friends! I know, I know, you were all super concerned after I failed to post last weekend. Every one of  you has undoubtedly been chomping at the proverbial bit dying to find out what mayhem has unfolded up here in La Casa de Testosterone. Right? You didn't notice. Don't sweat it peeps, I kinda didn't either. See, there was this long weekend and swimming and an amusement park and some cocktails...we'll call it memory making. Or blog fodder. Both work. But now, here I am, back just in time to update you on my most recent parental horror: puberty. That's right, it begins. Sure, Gav isn't technically even a tween yet. He won't be eleven until April (although he has a countdown, not kidding). Blame it on my cheap, hormone laden grocery store milk, but whatever the case may be we are dealing with the onset of the P word here.  You may think I'm mistaken, but I'd like to remind you I have in fact survived this with the three older wild ...

Hola Wild Boy friends and fam, and welcome back to another fun filled week in failed adventures in parenting.  No, I'm totally kidding. Obviously, we're nailing this parenting thing...or that's what we'll tell everyone. But I'm going to level with you, faithful few - I'm absolutely terrible at the textbook version of this mom thing.  And nothing brings this realization more to the forefront then soccer season.  Ah yes, soccer season. Several months of cross fit moms in SUV's arriving 30 minutes before the game with their latte (soon to be Pumpkin Spice Latte - you know the season is upon us), wearing yoga pants and designer sunglasses and flocking together to make casual conversation about how their children may be able to get together for a play date at some ceramic studio after they go to cello lessons...you get the idea. It's like a Stepford Wife convention every Saturday. They say things like "oh, as long as we're coordinating snacks can w...

Hola Wild Boy followers, and welcome to our weekly update from the Casa de Testosterone. This week saw the return of an unwelcome visitor here - illness. I love summer, so much. I love it because there's no school, which means no homework or drop off or school projects or Tuesday envelopes...but MAINLY because elementary school is literally like a giant germ incubator. I have a theory that the CDC is actually using these little institutions to breed germ warfare that we will one day use to try to overcome alien invaders. It's so simple...sprinkle a few germs on the tetherball or chains on a swing and let nasty little non-hand washing, food sharing imps spread it like wildfire throughout entire communities. But wait, you say - who would ever do such a thing to adorable little children? And this is where the true evil genius of the plan comes in - these illnesses effect children for roughly a minute and a half. Whereas the parents suffer for what seems like an eternity. Let m...