Pieces of me

A blog for the warriors

Everyone’s doing it, so why not! Hopefully this blogging thing won’t be as painful as jumping off a cliff.

I’m often told to be sure and write down all these funny things my kids say and do. Since I’m used to writing on a computer, why not blog. I’m not promising, though that this will be entirely funny kids stories. I reserve the right to post about my gardening adventures too.

When looking through the themes I could choose for the page, I saw this one, which was entitled greenery. I knew it was the right one for me. So much in my life revolves around so many green things. From my garden to my son’s turtle…or frog…or lizard…and one day, he’s hoping to catch a snake. Because while only five years old, he’s watched 30 minutes of Steve Erwin every morning before school for four months, so he’s quiet certain, he has all the necessary skill.

See I have this little boy, if you’re reading this you probably know him. I’m being audacious enough to think anyone I know, including my mother, will take the time to read this. I certainly am not so bold as to think a stranger would waist their time. Yes, uh, anyhow, now that I’ve told anyone who might be reading that it’s a waist of time, back to my son. He’s five. He’s a nature boy. He’s a handful. He’s rambunctious. He’s adventurous. He’s curious. He’s mischievous. He’s all so many things that require the great expanse of the outdoors as a backdrop for our daily lives. To keep this child indoors for more than an hour at a time would be pure torture for me and him. Lucky for him, I love to play in the dirt too. However, since I am 30-something, I’ve found the most socially acceptable way for me to play in the dirt is to garden.

I grew up always having a garden. So, it would seem that I should know what I’m doing, but while I lived a multitude of places growing up, we always had this stuff called dirt in our backyard. So, gardening began with a tiller, then seeds or seedlings, and of course, watering, harvesting, that sort of thing. I now live in a place where that stuff called dirt is no where to be found. In fact, I live in this strip of the United States that is sandwiched in between a huge swamp, also known as the Florida Everglades, and a beach. I have sand in my backyard. I have no seasons, and the months that others call summer, when gardens are usually grown, are too hot and humid for anything but bugs and fungus to thrive in. So, suffice-it-to-say, this is not my momma’s gardening. But, like I said, I have a son that necessitates being outdoors, so garden on I will, and share some stories that might be mildly entertaining or at least help me learn from my mistakes.

But yeah, I’m mostly going to be documenting my kids funny stories. And this morning provided, as usual, for a funny tale about the above-mentioned nature boy. So, he gets first billing, but no worries, my daughter provides lots of good material too. Although, her personality is not as “in your face” as little dude’s.

The story begins with a wee bit of background information. The kids have just started back to preschool after Christmas break on the coldest week of the year. Now, see, we only have one said cold week, so their warm clothes are limited. In fact, little dude only has two pairs of blue jeans, or as he calls them blue jays. He has some other long pants, but they are apparently floating around the house in a laundry basket that I probably don’t even remember whether or not it contains clean or dirty items. So, this morning, I gave him the choice of the blue jays he wore to school yesterday or the blue jays he wore the day before. Choices, look at me, I’m such a good parent! I reminded him, as is necessary to do, several times to put on his underwear first. ….with the recent cold spurt we had to have a conversation about how wearing blue jays without underwear would not feel good on his penis. Of course, for all I know, it could feel fabulous, but I went out on a limb and made my case for wearing underwear!

He wisely chose the blue jays that he wore the day before yesterday. Great, they’ve had a chance to air out! Again, what a great parenting moment, he won’t stink …too bad! So, mean while I’m trying to dress my three year old daughter, who is busy telling some imagined story with the stuffed animals that she has in her hands. Is she old enough to dress herself? Why certainly, but it is a big enough feat to get her to put down stuff animals, come out of her make-believe world, and allow ME to put clothes on her. I haven’t even begun to attempt to get her to dress herself. After, many reminders to stay on task, little dude has dressed himself. Alright, another morning of successfully dressing two preschoolers. I’m feeling just groovy.

Fast forward. The children have been delivered to their classrooms. I’ve remembered their water bottles, jackets (again, this cold stuff is unusual for us), and school bags. All is good with the world and I am enjoying some mommy talk in the halls before coming back home to ostensibly work on my paying job. Around the corner comes a mom from little dude’s class. I turn to smile and tell her good morning. She proceeds, however, to tell me that she saw something sticking out from little dude’s pants. She pulled at the item and out pops his underwear. The hall bursts into laughter and I excuse myself to go see if my son has any underwear on at all, because even if the combination of no underwear and blue jeans is not as bad as I told my son it was, I’m thinking underwear is a good call for at school. …because I’m still waiting for the day that his teacher reports that he peed on the playground or for some other reason pulled out the family jewels. Goodness knows he’s fond of showing them off around the house. So, I go back to his classroom. Tell his teacher why I’m there. More laughter. Peek into my son’s pants. And lo and behold, he does have on underwear. His teacher hypothesized that the other pair were in their from the wash. I smiled and nodded, all the while knowing better. The other pair were dirty and from the day before yesterday. So, this less than proud parenting moment is not really about a silly little boy pulling one of his wild stunts after all, it’s about a work-at-home mom who does not diligently launder our clothes. 🙂

2 thoughts on “First blog! Laundry is not my thing!

  1. Gayla says:

    Must be a family trait. I too have issues with maintaining laundry. And little dude’s 17 year old cousin has to be reminded and checked for wearing underwear as well. Maybe that’s a boy thing??? I sure don’t get it.

  2. You know what it took me FOREVER to learn about being a mother….a big part of it is about giving people a break – them, their dad and most especially, yourself. You have to keep on keeping on and accept the fact that some times the best you can do is just going to have to be good enough. I know lots of well organized, regimented fully laundered mothers who are raising little robots with little or no imagination or ability to see the wonders in a messy, outside world. I’d rather wear dirty jeans and see the world in a magical way than have a closet full of clean clothes. Love ya.

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