Damaged Jeans & Elbows

I know there comes a time in every parent's lives where they want to beat another little kids ass for doing something to your child. These past few days I feel like the good Lord is testing my patience with putting me in these situations.

Saturday my daughter comes in half laughing as she points to her jeans which are sporting two black letters on one of the legs. After seeing my face, the smile completely disappears and is replaced with large eyes shimmering with fear.

Me: What is that?

Claire: Oh, well see I was over at that house where they were having a garage sale and my friends held me down and wrote on me.

Me: Your friends held you to the ground and wrote on your jeans??

Claire: Well, I mean..uhhh..they didn't like hold me down they just wrote on me and I couldn't get up.

Me: What the hell Claire? Those are brand new jeans! Did you think I would find this funny??

Claire: "Crying"

So I stripped her and washed the pants 3 times, soaked them, tried spot treating, but nothing was bringing out the permanent ink. I informed her to let her "friends" know that if this didn't come out, I expected for their parents to buy her another pair of jeans.

When Bryan got up (he works nights these days) I explained to him what happened. He asked that I call Claire inside so he could speak with her. When she came in he immediately pretended like he was worried, asking her if he was alright and did she have any ouchies? I saw her looking at him while those little wheels turned in her head, confused because she expected him to be reprimanding her, not coddling. She let a small smile show and told her Dad that no she was fine. He continued with how he just knew she must be hurt in some way if her friends were holding her down and writing on her. Busted. She immediately started crab walking with that whole story, especially when Bryan and she went to the neighbors home and saw these 2 little girls who were maybe 2 and 3?

The big issue with all of that is the way their mother behaved. She didn't speak English so although Bryan never raised his voice, she acted as though he had, flailing her arms around and continually lurching the wet jeans at my daughter. We had to ask another little neighbor girl to be a go between and though she changed her story many times, "let me wash them, I will get it out" to "we will just buy new jeans" before Bryan politely told her that he really just wanted her to know that her daughter was writing on people and that we also believed our daughter was just as much as fault seeing as how she could have gotten up or told these two no. I did my best to stay calm but when she is pointing fingers and rudely speaking to my daughter, I wanted to slap her with those wet jeans.

Then yesterday Claire comes running inside holding her arm with blood dripping off of her elbow. Long story short, a little boy that she plays with quite often pushed her ass to the ground because he didn't want her on his driveway. Again, the Momma Bear gene in my raised it's ugly head and I was about to storm out the door and show him how to get off of MY drive way. But of course I didn't, I stayed and cleaned her up while Bryan went and dealt with the hoodlum. I know kids are going to fight but my goodness, for a boy to shove a girl THAT hard. He is also the one on our street who finds it amusing to throw rocks at other kids and animals. Grrrrr.

Garage Sale

Yesterday was our house cleaning day, throughout the week we pickup the living room or maybe run the vacuum but we really save it all for Sunday which for our family is known as "Chore Day". Bryan said that since the weather was warming up he was going to tackle the task of cleaning out the garage and asked Claire if she would like to help him. To my surprise she said yes but then realized that she had a plan all along. She hoped that we would say yes to her having a garage sale with things we no longer used or had outgrown. I didn't have a problem with it and after some begging Bryan finally broke down and said yes as well.

Most of the things being sold I advised her to sell for around a buck but the scooter and the bike she was too big for we thought 10 dollars a piece was a reasonable price. As I was getting a load of wash out of the dryer Claire came running to me, jumping up and down because she had just had her first sell. A neighbor had purchased the scooter and a couple of other things for 3 dollars.

Me: You only sold the scooter for 1 dollar?

Claire: Yes, I didn't want to ask for more because I was afraid it would be too much and then he wouldn't buy it.

Me: Well, whatever ~ I mean we were not using it so I suppose you got something for it.

So she runs inside to tell Bryan and of course he wasn't too thrilled. She comes back out to me saying that Daddy is upset with her for selling it for a dollar. I told her not to worry and she said that the neighbor had to go and get some cash to pay her. Claire goes back to her garage sale and Bryan comes to me to ask if I knew she only sold that scooter for a dollar??? I told him the same thing I told her, it isn't a big deal.

A few minutes later Claire comes inside proudly waving a ten dollar bill.

Me: Where'd you get the from?

Claire: The guy came back to pay me for the scooter and stuff and he said do you have change and I said no, I don't do change because that would be too hard for me. So he just told me to keep it.

I smiled at Bryan. That girl knows what she is doing after all.

I Still Have A Dream....

It bothers me that there are still people out there that see in color. But it makes me smile that my children do not.

Almost a Whole Year?

Egads! To think that it has been almost an entire year since I have posted, that my friends is very dissapointing. Things had just gotten really crazy for me at work and I think I got a little burned out on the whole blogging thing. With the economy being what it is, things have slowed down a bit at work so I started catching up on some of my favorite bloggers. And of course, the more I read and the more I got caught up in their loves, the more I missed MY blog.

So who knows how this will turn out, if I will post every day or if it will be a sporadic thing. I DO know that there have been many times the kids have done or said something and I thought hmmmm, I wish I could blog about this ~ because that is friggin hilarious!

On that note, I leave you with a pretty recent picture of the kids, my how we have grown right?

Happy Mothers Day!

Dissapointed

Tonight I was scanning some fellow bloggers on my favorites and guess who was on that list? Yeah, my own. I clicked on it only to see the date of my last post and all of a sudden I felt like I was back in junior high listening to my teacher telling me how she wished I would write my short stories, like I used to.

I am so bad about falling in in love with a certain chip, drink, or really foods in general and totally engross myself in it for a bit and then bam, I don't want anything to do with that anymore. I have been doing this odd behavior since high school, and the more I think about it, maybe this applies to blogging as well.

It makes me sad because I don't want to be done with blogging, I want to tell you guys about my day, I want to write the chapters of my life, chapters that may make some people think Jesus, it's amazing this girl is still sane and maybe make others feel, if she can do it well then so can I.

I'm getting there, I will get there, just have patience.

Out Of Order

I thought "out of order" was an appropriate title seeing as how I post so often and all. :) Anyway, I just had to share this with you guys.

Yesterday morning I came into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, Bryan was in the kitchen already and the following good morning took place.

Me: Good Morning Tiny!

Bryan: Huh? What do you mean by that?

Me: Wha?

Bryan: Are you referring to my penis size?

Me: *Giggling* No I wasn't, I don't even know where "Tiny" came from, it just popped out. OMG, that is hilarious! I have to blog about this!

Bryan: Hell no! I would rather your blogger peeps think I am well endowed k?

Me: Sure honey, no problem.