Oh Snap!

When you are 5 you want to be just like your sisters. When your mother is busy getting ready for a birthday party, prepping for a tropical storm and worrying about what’s happening in Kentucky, it’s pretty darn easy to wear her down. It’s made even easier when Daddy is out of town. It’s then that bad things can happen. Things like this…

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Need a closer look?

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That would be Kool-Aid dip dyed hair. Oh it will come out with baking soda and vinegar they said… They better freakin’ be right! School starts Monday for heaven’s sake!

No. It is not just Bria. Arleigh chose blue that turned into a lovely shade of chlorine green. Hanan picked purple… AKA my goth phase is growing out. Bria’s definitely accepted the color the easiest. Maybe it was those ends that have gotten bleached in the summer sun. It is pretty much the same shade of red as the Ariel wig Arleigh wore the entire year she was three.

I’m praying that the baking soda combined with a day the pool takes care of it. The things I get myself into!

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Track Stars

We interrupt this programming for a Proud Mama Announcement… Arleigh and Hanan are officially on the A. Scott track team. I didn’t even realize they were trying out until they got home.

Bare with me as there are a few things to say about this. First I’m super excited as I have delusions of grandeur about my own running. (Can you call them delusions of grandeur if you realize that’s what they are?) I also never dreamed I’d here my kids describe the track like this… Well, we started back by the basketball court, you had to run to the banyan tree, around the coconut trees, to the palm trees… you get the idea. I still have to pinch myself that we live here.

Time to single Hanan out. Hanan is my mostly quiet one that tries sometimes to get lost in the shuffle of our herd. That’s easy to do with Bria drowning the rest of us out. She is one of the shortest kids in her class. Her legs are about half the length of her good buddy, Raina’s legs. I’m not even kidding. Raina is almost as tall as me. We’ve always said, if Hanan finds the determination she would be a runner. She came in first in the long distance race. Considering those little legs had to pump a bit harder to keep up with the longer ones, I’d say that’s a pretty big deal!

There aren’t really gyms in Hawaii public schools. You don’t need them. Everything happens outside. There isn’t much money for tracks either. I hear their headed for a meet at Moanaloa. I’m anxious to see how this works. Banyan trees have lots of roots that are really great for tripping people.

Good job girls! We’re super proud of you!

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Happy Birthday Arleigh Grace

I have waited long enough. It just doesn’t seem possible. How did Arleigh go from this…

To this…

Arleigh has grown up so much in the last year. She has always been mature, but she’s finding herself. It’s so hard to let her do that on her own. I miss the baby that was attached to my hip all by herself for a full 18 months before she had to share anything. As much as I miss having Arleigh totally dependent on me, I love watching her grow into the beautiful, compassionate, loving girl she is. She still likes to needle her siblings and seems to get better at it every day. In fact, I’m listening to it right now.

On Saturday we celebrated with a Hunger Games/Pool Party. Arleigh isn’t so happy her birthday falls right before Christmas. This year, she really wanted to soak up being on an island and do something different. After a little Tribute Training, we had lunch and hit the pool. I only really got pictures at the pool, you’ll have to trust me. It was a good time… Happy birthday Arleigh, WE LOVE YOU!!!

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Wordy Wednesday: The Stow Away Gecko

I could just post the picture. You might not recognize the importance… and who am I to stand in the way of my big old mouth. Speaking of big old mouth. Bria’s homework assignment for tonight was to draw something that makes sound. She decided on a self portrait because talking is her favorite hobby. I kid you not. She came up with it all on her own when she realized Peek A Bugs don’t make much of a sound.

Any who… last night was interesting around here. I was upstairs giving Bria and Jack their baths and pushing forward for the hour of peace moment. Ray is off island. I need my hour of peace because our school schedule here has us all up at around 5 most mornings. I might get lucky and have them sleep until 6. So, from 9-10 is my only quiet alone time. I covet it, especially when Ray is gone. So as I was scrubbing away on Bria’s tangled hair, I was a bit shocked to hear screams from downstairs. Screams from Arleigh. It’s usually Bria or believe it or not, Jack. He is the shrillest of the lot of us. I heard Arleigh call for Hanan. Then I heard footsteps. Next was, “Mama! There is a lizard in my room!!!”

Oh snap! I was envisioning the gecko that has been haunting my garage. It is at least as long as my hand…not counting the tail with the potential to fall off.  This was not on my hour of peace agenda. I start running downstairs. Hanan was calmly sitting on the futon. The child that asks me for any number of animals including reptiles was watching television. The child that not two months ago threw a dead lizard on her mother. “Hanan, did Arleigh tell you what’s in her room?” I was calmly asking hoping she would volunteer to hunt it. “Yeah, it’s a lizard. I saw it. It ran.” “Um… where did it run Hanan?” She shrugged and I swear never stopped watching the television. “Could I get a little help from the reptile whisperer sweetheart?” I promise you she told me she would if she could keep it. At this point, I have no idea what I said. NO IDEA.

Turns out Godzilla was smaller than most Hawaiian cockroaches and hiding behind the dresser. He kept scooting himself under the edge of Arleigh’s carpet to hide himself. He was so tiny, I was thinking I would probably squish him with my giant man size hands. Hanan was pretty afraid of hurting him too. Before it was over, I sat a mason jar on top of him after coaxing him into the open, then carefully slipped card stock under him. He was relocated outside, across the street. I escaped both tears and terror from my children. No one was harmed. I’m calling one for Team Mama.

My evidence…

Let me also say… Ray you owe me! Why is it these things only happen when he is gone? I found another one this morning. He had already passed on to his own tropical paradise in the sky…dead as a door nail or at least as dead as the lizard Hanan threw at me. This time I didn’t scream. Again. Ray, you owe me! Dead animals fall strictly in your territory.

Wonder what will happen tomorrow?

 

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Seriously?

This is the post that could alternately be called Oh My Hell! We are well on our way to circus side show status. Last night my children were rumored to be desperately trying to chase down the ice cream truck on their bikes. We just watched that Dateline Special about kids been snookered onto an ice cream truck. There is Blue Bell ice cream…banana pudding mind you… in my freezer and my children are riding all over the neighborhood because they think they hear the siren bells. This is one of the culprits. I didn’t catch the other one.

Back to our circus side show act. I’m pretty sure that anytime you walk into a store, particularly a big box one, with four kids, you get the look…You know the one. It says things like, “Don’t they know what causes that?” and “Have mercy! What were they thinking?” without uttering one word. Bonus herein redneck land  is the fabulous, “I wonder how much they paid to finally get a boy?” Thankfully that one was only uttered out loud once. Unfortunately it was someone I actually know. Seriously.

Anyway, Sunday afternoon Ray decided we needed to load up the Mom-mobile and head on out to Petsmart. Good times. Arleigh and Hanan decided that it was absolutely necessary to add Tucker to the mix. So, are you following with your math. Two tweens + a buck wild diva + a boy who doesn’t always react well around animals + a giant skittish lab = one out of her mind mama and a daddy who is on a mission to purchase a dog kennel for the plane and can therefore ignore everything happening around him. Oh my word! Are you still with me?

I insist that the two littles must ride in the cart. It makes it easier to see the fish and kitties. There is the other bonus of containment but it’s a Mama secret so please don’t tell them. I have the cart. Hanan is flitting around. Ray is in full bore military man on a mission mode. Arleigh has Tucker. Did I mention that Tucker is deathly afraid of storms and the sky was turning black the second we got out of the car. Yeah, didn’t want to forget that. Walk on in and there right by the door is a beautiful and absolutely bigger than life pit bull. I mean it. He was the most beautiful color. His owner seemed nice. His head was also roughly the size of Jack.  The dog, not the owner. It was huge! Not…even…kidding. I’m pushing the cart, trying to add support to Arleigh on the leash. Get by quickly, dodge a bullet. I follow military man to the back of the store where Tucker totally disrupts obedience training as every dog behind the glass wall needs to play with him IMMEDIATELY. Jack’s eyes were roughly the size of saucers.

It was around this point that I decided to take Bria and Jack to see the fish. Hanan decided that as the future zookeeper, she should help her Daddy pick the kennel. Arleigh and Tucker followed. No worries. The pit bull was gone. We calmly walked around examining each animal and then went back to see just how many dogs we could freak out. That’s when Tucker did it. He stopped. He hiked. He peed all over and end cap in front of God and everybody. Tucker. The perfect dog. The dog who never does anything wrong peed ALL OVER AN ENDCAP!!!

I stood there looking at the yellow puddle. No purse. No wipes. Just bare hands. I had no idea what to do. I know what I wanted to do. I wanted to walk away, put my head in the sand, tell military man to deal with it…anything. That’s when Arleigh says it, “You know what the right thing to do is Mom.” Oh my goodness. That child. I was somewhere to between just smile and wave boys and pinching her fool head off. Yes. I knew what the right thing to do was. I just didn’t want to do it. I ducked my head. Actually, I’m pretty sure it was tucked between my legs. I found someone and was introduced to the OOOPs station. It’s a handy dandy station with hand sanitizer, cleaner, wipes and trash bags to put in trash bags. I grabbed what I needed and cleaned up the mess. We got what we needed and I brought my side show home. I’m pretty sure my head is still in its tucked position.

Oh my story doesn’t end. My ice cream truck chasing kids just walked in the house and said, “I thought we were on that My Kids Would Never Do That show.” Dateline anyone? The petal fell off Hanan’s new bike. Our neighbor, also a stranger fixed it for her…. with his kids and Arleigh watching. It is going to be a long summer!

I give up. Make sure you back up a post and enter the giveaway. That is all.

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An Open Letter To Josh Hutcherson

Dear Mr. Hutcherson,

May I call you Josh? I realize it may be brazen but considering I am (just barely) old enough to be your mother and I still feel like spring of 1992 and hanging out at MTV Spring Break in Daytona was just a couple of weeks ago a more personal address may be appropriate. There is also the fact that I feel as if I know you since your face seems to be plastered on every electronic screen in my home, plus the posters… oh the posters.

Josh, I find that there are a few things that I need to say to you. First, I truly appreciate you. You see, my daughter is so infatuated with you she doesn’t really notice the eleven-year old boy who is constantly calling my house and riding by on his bike. She totally misses all the boys standing outside our home on nights like Halloween. She’s too busy waiting to see if you post something on Instagram or pop up on television. You provide a wholesome image for her to admire from afar. Please, don’t let that change. Please be the good boy that I and lots of other mothers of tweens need you to be.

I love that you are proud of Kentucky. Even though my kids weren’t born there, they call Kentucky home. They drink their tea sweet. They know how to get dirty and how to clean up. Most important, their blood runs blue. Please don’t let California take that away from you. Everybody craves dirt roads and rolling hills every now and then. There’s nothing wrong with wasting an afternoon with a fishing pole in your hand especially if it comes with a basket full of fried chicken and you had to get where you’re going in four wheel drive. I’m pretty sure the good people of California don’t know the effective use of bacon with potatoes or greens for that matter. Don’t get me wrong, I love the fresh food and beaches but Kentucky… well there’s just something about going home and basketball. Don’t forget basketball!

I want to thank you for caring about your many, many fans. You made my daughter’s day by commenting on her Instagram post. One comment that probably took you less than 10 seconds meant the world to her and her sister and her friends. You might as well have given them all a big old hug. You have been the talk of the town for days. Keep it up! Just so you know, she wrote a letter. It’s coming in your fan mail. Please respond, preferably before we move in June. My little military brat will need something to cling to when we go through big changes in the coming months. I’m pretty sure a brief letter from you or you PR team that she thinks is you will be just the ticket.

I hope you realize that you are developing adult fans too. My husband and I stayed up last night to watch you on Leno. We needed to see what all the fuss is about. You had my husband at ’69 Camaro. You had me when you realized a car was too much so you traded it in. I remember when my husband realized that his motorcycle, much as he adored it, was close to getting him killed. Of course it involved a little old lady, topping one of those Kentucky hills and a near death experience. I am wondering what did for you… a near death experience or your mama. I’m good either way. You’re pitching arm… I think we need proof of the 75 mph pitch. I know Peeta could do it with all that flour throwing but um the video…I’ll stop now.

All that to just say thank you. Thank you for providing my daughter with something unattainable that will hopefully keep her mind off the boys right under her nose for a good long while. Thank you for clearly loving your family. Thank you for showing your home state a little love. Thank you for using your manners and displaying wonderful hospitable behaviors. Thanks Josh Hutcherson for being you and Peeta and staying away from my daughter to truly loves you.

Sincerely,

Brandi

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