Mothering Mayhem: Life with the Wild Boys

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 ...