The Spectrum of Joy

Living in Estrogenville is always eventful. 

All three of my girls are different from one another. 

They look different and they all have drastically different personalities.

Their reactions are vastly different.

Take for instance a simple remark made at separate occasions 

to Happy Mouth (who will be receiving a new alias soon), 

Laid Back Jane and Forrest.  

Something as simple as " Have you finished your chores?' 

 can be met will a spectrum of (over)reactions.

Of course there is the all time favorite of "Yes, Moooom" 

accompanied by an eye roll. 

But this doesn't happen too often 

since eye roll=hard labor. 

 Really any body language offense will land you in the pool of 

"Mom's least favorite chores are now yours."   

One year Happy Mouth was unable to control herself so much that

 I had the cleanest kitchen on the Eastern Shore; all the way down to the grout.

Seriously it was bad.

Friends would call and ask me to send her their way 

when she met her quota at my house .

Other times a reaction of "Yes ma'am"  comes and not only was respect shown

 but the chore was actually done well. 

 These are fun ,fun, times . 

Rare but fun.

Then there is the high octane estrogen response.

 It goes something like this:

"Uggh" (no eye roll here because they are shut tight)

" I can' t believe all you care about is chores, when my entire existence is at stake. 

I mean my whole life is about to implode!! And do you care at all?'

Now over the years I have learned that this response is designed to distract. 

And while I have fallen for it before ,

 my years of training have now made me a Master Rebound Reactor.

I know just respond to this drama with a cool

" You are fine and unless you would actually like me to rip

 your world apart by the seams I suggest you get your tail in motion ."

They usually just stare at me

 like I am the most compassion-less human 

that ever existed , and do their chores.

I' m good with that.

So when I say something that really is fun and good news 

that I think should have a typical reaction of oh.....

I don't know say --JOY  

and am met 

with a schizophrenia of reactions,

 I am once again

reminded that parenting is not for the weak.

Me:  "Girls let's check out early today and take your Daddy to lunch

. Won't that be fun"

 Note here:

In my mind it was supposed to be all Little House on the Prarieish.

 

Happy Mouth(age 15) " Why do we have to check out?

 Let's take the whole day and go shopping ...um..

for Dad, I mean."  

 Her eyes are in backpedaling mode at this point

Laid Back Jane (Formerly Rollercoaster at this age of 12):

" I can't check out. Do you know how much homework I will have? 

We are reading and taking a quiz on Despereaux today!! 

What are you thinking?"

The look of horror on her face is equivalent to that of watching a kitten being beaten.

Forrest (8):  " I bet Dad wants us to bring Sissy and my turtle too."

She has a gum drop stuck to the front of her jumper

 and I swear I saw her backpack move just a little.

Then the three of them start talking all at once,

 each of their own dialogue 

and slowly my mind

just hears the teacher from The Peanuts cartoon:

"Wha -wha wha" 

"Wha-wha wha-wha"

"Whaaaaaa-waaa-wa!!"

Finally I am drawn back to reality as they are all saying "Mama"

ME: "Yes well okay ," 

 "I think today your dad has a lot to do 

so just finish up your lunches because you are going to school today"

Happy Mouth: "Great way to go!" )

(pointing at  Rollercoaster) Now we gotta go to school!"

Rollercoaster: "YES!!!!"  (multiple fist pumps)

Forrest:  (She already has the dog on a leash)

" Okay , Sissy and I are ready!"

Everyone went to school .

 I, however , went to lunch with Mr. Rodgers.

 

It was Joyful indeed!!

  

Easter Hopes

He Is Risen!!!

I hope everyone had a wonderful Easter.
 My tribe  was especially blessed because we were able to see my best friend Mamaricecake 's son be baptized
 It was awesome.

Now my family has a long history of church stories.
They are not really what you are thinking. 
Some of you may be picturing angelic children
 holding the hands of the wisest elders in Holy union
as they make a joyous noise unto the Lord that caused  the Host of Heaven to weep.

Think again my friends.             Think again

My family history of unexpected , inappropriate yet hilarious moments is 4 generations strong.

The earliest one I can remember is of my great grandmother
 called Ma Ruth, my Nana, my mother and her siblings
 arriving to church late and literally busting open the door.
 Needless to say a few heads turned and
alas the only seating was in the front two rows.

Ultra convenient.

As if that wasn't enough ,my mother lost her earring
 in the pew bringing fits of laughter to her  cousin and sister .
Ma Ruth not so much.

There was as much shoulder shaking from holding in laughter as their were thigh pinches and stern looks.

There have been other incidents.
A small fire incident on Christmas Eve,
a child imitating the song leader
and a thunderous break of wind from Ma Ruth herself.

My all time favorite though has to be when we were
 visiting my mother's church in Houston.
 They normally have a children's sermon
where the children are gathered up front with the pastor to hear a short story.

When they called for the children up front
Mom and I both thought it was for the children's sermon.

As the children approached the alter
they were placed by height into 3 neat rows.

"That's different" my mom said.
 I just shrugged my shoulders and waved at my beauties!

Then the music minister stands up and starts directing the singing.

What  singing you ask?

The singing coming from all the children on stage!!!!

My mom and I freeze
and slowly look at each other as the uncommon rehearsed song pours out of the children's mouths.

My kids are puppy dogged eyed and mortified.

My mom and I can not stop laughing.

The song goes on Rollercoaster looks like she could melt into a puddle as quick as the wicked witch of the west . 

Happy Mouth is moving her lips and I think she is singing "Watermelon, watermelon, Jesus, watermelon."

Oh my gosh I now have tears pouring down my face!!
I can not look at my mom.

I can hear her trying not to laugh and she is sniveling like hyena with bronchitis.

People  are now starting to notice-
not my kids
but us.

We are so obnoxious at this point
that I am sure that the "I-got -it-together " informed parents are just flat pissed off.

About the time we calm down it gets better........

M poor babies, only age 6 and 4 ,
are at a total loss
 when the microphone gets passed to them!!!!!
 
I kid you not.
 They start passing the microphone down the row and each child says a part

I have now wet my pants and owe the church a pew cleaning.

Rollercoaster is handed the microphone.

She looks at it , looks  at me and shakes her head in a
"NO WAY TODAY " fashion.

She passes it on.

This only infects my mother with more uncontrollable hysterics.

Finally it is  Happy Mouth's turn--and she delivers-

Not only does she take the microphone but she sings-- LOUDLY

"Jesus, watermelon, Jesus, I love you, watermelon."

I can no longer see, my eyes simply won't open.

Someone eventually has to pull the microphone out of her hand!!!

The pint size choir finishes
and we are shot a look from Rollercoaster that is undeniably a death threat.

Oh my !! My abs are hurting from laughter just recalling that story.

But this Easter I added my own episode to the mix

Let me set the stage:  We were sitting in the balcony, slanted stadium style seating

As we were praising ,
I had my eyes closed and my hand lifted.

I must have moved forward without knowing
it because my right foot fell into
the gap between my flooring and the pew in front of me,.

I was so startled that I  let out  a "yelp".

 Nice high pitch "yelp"
Heads turned.


Thank goodness I didn't fall
thanks to the quick reflexes of Mr. Rodgers.
He grabbed my other arm just in time.

As I turn back to him he has this look on his face like

"What are you doing?"

I have seen this look before

Many, many times.
Many , many , many times......

It got me so tickled that I had to turn away.

Rollercoaster and Happy mouth are now staring at me.
Happy Mouth cracks a smile and tries to keep on singing.

Rollercoaster is just disgusted.

She has a look on her face that reminds me of a looney tunes character.

Sylvester the cat, the one always after tweety bird,
has a son who is vehemently ashamed of him and just wants to know
"Why oh why cant he be like other fathers?"

This is the look Rollercoaster is giving me.

She is thinking:
 "Why , oh why must every 11 seconds of my life be filled with the embarrassing truth that you are my mother?"

This only makes me laugh harder.

I can not sing,
I can not breathe
I can only scoot to the end of pew and run for the ladies room.

Father's Day

Mr. Rogers is the best daddy a girls could ask for.
And that is a good thing, considering he has 3 of them.
But today's post is about our fathers, Mr. Rogers and mine.

You see both of us have wonderful men that raised us.
They taught us about honesty, kindness and generosity.

They were living examples of hard work and high morals.
They showed us what sacrifice  and a patient attitude

They lived out a life of love, each in their own way, and passed it to us.

But the greatest thing that our father's each taught us was choice.

You see, as strange as it may seem, both Mr. Rogers and I have never met our biological fathers.

My father left us before I was born and his never stayed when he knew there was a pregnancy.

His mother married when he was 2.     My mother when I was 4

So the men who raised us, who protected us,
 who provided for us, are the very ones who didn't have to.

But they did.

They love us

because they choose to love us.

A real man chooses.
 A real father stays by that choice.

And we are forever grateful.

Testosterone Tales

More often than not my husband Mr. Rogers, receives not only sympathy but lots of   "man-vites" from his less than estrogen filled male associates.

It is not uncommon for the whole family to go out to dinner or grocery shop and have observant bystanders shake their head in dismay or remark "All girls?" in a joking , but oh so fearful manner.

To which my husband will respond "Yeah, all girls, every one", and then shove a 12 pack in the cart.

One man asked him once "How do you do it man. I mean all the talking and drama?"

To which he responded " I took up hunting when the first one reached puberty- it helps to kill things....and keep it legal."

It's true.

 About the time Happy Mouth was diving head first into the teen years, Mr. Rogers was invited to go hunting.

Now living in the south you may stereotypically assume we all know how to fire a weapon-

 well I'm here to tell you assume away

 because you would be correct.

  (for my animal lovers out there -all I can say is we eat what we kill-and the circle goes on)

So for the past five or six years Mr. Rogers has hunted away twice a year with some friends;
 to which the only qualification needed for friendship is the required twenty-five word exchange.

I swear men are so weird ; what kind of lexical budget is that?

Anyway,  in addition to hunting, golf is always present
(and the actual means to our marriage-that's another story) and fishing has become the latest free time passion.

Why at a nearby lake just this morning he was casting away for hours.

I made a  quick visit to see if  he and Forrest needed lunch and I was taken in by the story of
the  8-10 pound bass that had  " gotten away."

As he told and retold the story over and over.. 

the fish got bigger and bigger

Forrest only agreed enthusiastically every time and added how "Awesome" dad was trying to reel him in.

"Well that's great," I say "When do y'all want to have lunch?"  

I am now being stared at like I am a Cyclops.

"I AM catching this fish, then I'll be in" he seethes.

Wow-- well that is just to obsessive for me ,
especially since all the fish he catches he throws back.

"Your sure?", I say.

I now back away slowly......                        very slowly....
in fear of bodily harm.

I may have to rename Mr. Rogers, Captain Ahab

 because he is certain to hunt down his Moby Dick in madness.