Mothering Mayhem: Life with the Wild Boys

Hola, Wild Boy friends and family, and welcome back to a very special birthday edition of the blog. That's right, we're celebrating survival for another full year for the one, the only, the indomitable Wild Boy Gavin! Tomorrow, Gavin turns 11, and while I really thought last year would be difficult because it marked the transition to double digits, this year is so much harder. First off, my little man is transitioning to big kid things. All of the sudden it's majors in baseball, its Boy Scouts instead of Cub Scouts, and it's junior high in a matter of months. These are all really hard transitions for a Mommy to make. But I think what's made it even more difficult is that my kid is kind of a punk. I know, I know, no parent should ever admit this except in hushed whispers to other parents who are hiding from their children behind the cover of a pedicure or grocery shopping. Because really, we all have to feel obligated to blow up social media with how wonderful ...

Hola, Wild Boy friends, family and followers! Welcome back to another super exciting update from La Casa de Testosterone.  We are neck deep in baseball season and all the exhaustion that accompanies it (also, one emergency dental visit and one emergency room trip for xrays, so hopefully both Wild Boys have now established that we catch with our glove and hit with the bat...) The weather continues to vacillate between delightfully sunburnish and freak snowstormish, and my patience has been worn as thin as the toilet paper in the public restrooms at each ball park.  Know who is handling it like a champ, though?  The cop. He's so cool. He's a borderline saint. Look at how cute he is with these little howler monkeys: I want to be like him one day, for reals. Know what's equally amazing? He puts up with my borderline insanity on a daily basis. I'm working on self improvement, and I'm pretty sure I need a little bracelet with WWCD (what would the cop do) to keep me s...

Hola Wild Boy friends and family, and Happy Easter from la Casa de Testosterone! I have a very, very brief minute to check in but I'm taking full advantage because writing is cathartic, and this Momma had a really, really rough Saturday. Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking for sympathy. I just think that one day, when someone finds me curled up in the fetal position clutching an empty bottle of vodka and mumbling something like "the horror..." you may all be able to figure out what drove me to it if I testify now. Here's the thing. I slacked off, to an epic extreme, and suddenly it was Easter Eve and I had NOTHING. Literally, nothing. So after two baseball games the Cop volunteered to take the extremely filthy, tired, and cranky wild boys home so I could do the shopping. And somehow, in my stupor, I thought I got the better end of that deal. No kids, no problem, right? So I drove right on over to the very portal to hell itself - Walmart. I don't do W...