You Had Me at Nerf

Sometimes, being a stay at home mom rocks.
You spend all this quality time with your precious kids.
You get to focus on being a mom.
You get to wear sweats and jeans whenever the hell you want.
Blah Blah,
Yes, I live a charmed life.
I know it.
I love it.
My family kicks ass.

However, there are times when it's just plain hard to be a stay at home mom.
And lonely.
The only people you come across all day long who aren't waist high are other parents.
And just because they have kids your age, doesn't mean you will be friends with them.
Or that you should.

And with me, maybe I am too much a "breath of fresh air" for some people.
Yes, I have been called that more than once.
And "edgy", which I like a little more, but I still don't know if it's a compliment.

I think it's a nice way to tell me I don't fit the mold.
My lack of bullshit or filter can leave me often on the outside of the circle of Coach purses and identical haircuts and home parties.
Not that I would want in, or that I would know what to do if I ever found myself in that circle (probably develop Tourrettes and just start swearing profusely), but it does sometimes get lonely.

Which is why, a couple of years ago, I was so happy to find a COUPLE,
who had kids the exact same age of ours, that not only got along with me, but with my husband as well.
Both dads collect fish and play copious amounts of video games. Score!
Both moms are sarcastic, and not afraid to beat their children in a Wii game!
All the kids get along!
We hit the fucking social lottery!

We all went to their house in the mountains for New Years.
It is also very nice to make friends with more than one house, just sayin.
Oh, and on another aside, I think you just get dirty when you enter the State of West Virginia.
I just watched everyone and everything get dirtier over the weekend. The kids, the cars.
My beautiful winter whites.
But I digress.

And wouldn't you know it? Each family brought a Nerf Arsenal to ring in the new year!
I am talking hand guns of Nerf as well as fully automatic weapons of mass Nerf destruction.

GAME ON!

Needless to say, it was the best weekend in a long time for all, ages to 35.
The parents shot the crap out of each other and their children with Nerf.
I personally made a barricade behind a coffee cable, while my partner mom hunkered down behind the rocker.
The darn kids get changing sides, but I guess that was to be expected.
And the dads got to play.
And my husband smiled.
awesome.

The kids kept talking about the "galactic battle" with joy. Hooray.
speaking of battles, there was also an 8 person snowball fight in the woods too.
Not that we're violent people, it was just PERFECT. And I do love to lob a snowball at my husband.
All right, I started it.

So much fun.
I am so glad we made friends who are as "unique" as us.
And I sure hope they stick around.
Like dirt on my winter whites.

Merry Christmas, Pass the Bucket

A week before Christmas, when I took my son to the doctor and found out he had an ear infection, I jumped for joy and did a little fist pump.
Obviously, Dr Blue Eyes thought I was nuts.
I then had to explain to him that EVERY year, someone runs a fever on Christmas, usually with puking. We may have actually dodged the bullet this time.
What the hell was I thinking?

Sure enough, on Dec 24th at about midnight, right on the fucking dot, princess starts projectile vomiting.
And of course, it was as she was up complaining of a tummy aches and said she felt like she would throw up. I told her that she had the flu mist, so even though she felt icky, she might not throw up.
I swear to God as I finished that sentence she vomited in my lap just to remind me what an idiot I was.
Crap. No. chicken. And tomatoes.
I ran and got the old Easter Buckets, then took a dam shower.
1am. Awesome.
Princess spent the rest of Christmas Eve day and evening puking into a green bucket with pink flowers, and I was in and out of coma/worry/complete meltdown.
4th year in a row. Happy Friggin Christmas.

However, there are a couple really good things about Christmas at our house.

• I order Christmas Eve dinner from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. We have pasties, which is a hand held pot pie of sorts with meat and potatoes and rutabaga. So dinner was already taken care of.
• A Clark Christmas is pretty low key, if you don't count the obscene amount of gifts. So lying on the couch in your jammies clutching a towel and bucket is no big deal.
• Nonnie is here with cookies and cuddles. I swear that woman is a walking Valium. She herself prefers Scotch, God bless her.
  

So there you have it.
I am an idiot.
We will always have someone puking over Christmas.
And it'll still be great.
God Bless Us, everyone.