I don't want to hate your kids, but you leave me no choice...

Ok I know that sounds terrible, but in some ways it's true. I worked in the customer service industry for a number of years and had to deal with children that were less than pleasant...ok they were terrors! I know that it is not the fault of these tiny dictators, their parents did not lay down the law, or if they did they did not have consequences if the child did break the law. These are not easy families to be around. Please know that I am not implying that my kids are perfectly behaved and I've got it together because I do not. But my kids know that when we go out in public there is a code of conduct and should they venture away from the code a swift punishment will be on their bottoms. The thought of it is enough to keep the in line most of the time. Brad and I have found ourselves not becoming friends with people simple because their children were awful. Have you ever noticed that when well behaved kids are around awful kids they start morphing into awful? It's a phenomenon that I wish would swing the other way, but again the parents have decided it's ok to allow their children to make their own decisions. I am telling you no kid has enough brain power to decide how they should act or treat other people. I am quite convinced between the time the baby is born a part of the brain stays dormant until the ages of 16-17 and even when it becomes functional it's only at half the working power. This part of the brain has everything thing to do with social skills. As parents if we do not try to developed this part of the brain it may never mature or even wake up. I've seen this tragedy in adults and they lack the social skills required to function...sad very sad.





Back to the dictators...I have watched it happen time and time again. A family comes in to a restaurant or hair salon and the kids lead the way, tell the parents where they should be sitting, and the demand what they will be having. I have been tempted, at times, to ask if this small human is going to pay for the meal since they are the boss of everything. Out of pity for the parents (even though they created this creature) I do not ask. All I can do is hope that they get fed up and become enforcers instead of doormats.




I have a simple solution for these parents. Just say enough, and then no. The snotty tone that these children insist on using has got to stop, just say enough, then when they tell you what they think they're going to do, just say no. It's easy! Will there be tears, screaming and snot? Absolutely! Your kids will be better for it though, because as we all know you don't get to do whatever you want all the time, unless you live on your own island, by yourself. Huh that might no be a bad idea, let’s give these kids something to aim for. Work hard, make a lot of money, buy your own island, and then go do whatever you want...I can live with that.

He looks homeless today.

OK I am at the point in my motherhood where I am not going to start a huge fight with my kids on what they are wearing. Really...I mean there are times in which I find myself saying: "No you can't wear that shirt to church, it has holes in it". But for the most part I allow them to wear what they want, and mainly I'm speaking of the boys. Brielle would run free in her diaper all day if I let her.

So back now to my boy Christian, who got himself ready for school today. He came out of his room smiling and I really did not want to see that disappear so I said nothing about the small homeless person that stood before me. Starting from his feet he had on muddy snow boot, which is fine because it's been messy muddy around here so I'll let that one slide. His pant were tapered khakis with pleats, I'm not sure where they came from, I know I didn't buy them, I know I wouldn't buy them. Did I mention they have pleats? Now I know what you're thinking khakis don't sound so bad, and they aren't, but these just git back from a wrinkle convention, and they were the facilitators. Hovering over the wrinkle diseased pants was his Boston Red Sox t-shirt which also attended the wrinkle convention, but wasn't in the higher echelons like the pants. Did I mention they were pleated? OK so Christian's beautiful smile couldn't hide the fact he had a mystery smudge running across the front of his nose. The reason I call it a mystery smudge is because I can't figure out what caused it. It wasn't the usual marker, or pen, nor toothpaste, dirt...nope. Still a mystery, and still on his face, and he's now at school. His hair was more than disheveled, he had bald spots because of how he slept on it. I did get him to brush his teeth, but the rest I let walk out the door. I am crossing my fingers hoping nobody notices, but there are a lot of Mom's that help with his class that only have one child, and that one child always looks presentable. Not mine, not today...but we kissed each other goodbye when they bus showed up, and he told me he loved me...it's a great way to start the day, even though his pants were pleated.

A new blog...

I have decided to start my own blog, something in my life that is just for me....OK I am laughing while I write this because nothing in my life at this point is ever just for me. Somehow my kids sneak in the mix and suddenly it's about them...hence the blog title. I am in that business, the business of Bare Baby Bottoms that is.

I can't seem to get away from them, and at this point for the most part I don't want to. I love Ruthie's dimpled cheeks, but only when they are cleaned...poo takes away the cute factor in it all. Brielle's little butt running free after a bath is something to smile about, and although Micah and Christian are getting bigger I have to laugh as they streak across the hall from their bedroom to their bathroom so nobody in the house catches a glimpse of their bottoms. I haven't yet given them the idea to undress in their bathroom...They will figure it out soon enough I'm sure.

So back to me. I know have have a blog already about the family, but because of the time constraints that putting all the pictures it takes I really don't get to write about our lives. Like today driving down the road listening to Micah and Christian go back and forth about how to say Kermit the Frog's name. Christian was calling him Kermin, and Micah informed him that he was wrong and the name was Kermint. Brad and I laughed, but our laughter turned to annoyance when the debate became and argument.

By the way Brad was with me this afternoon because while I was doing my make-up I got a wood shaving, the size of a plank, from my eyeliner pencil caught in my eye. It is unclear to me how this happened, but it hurt. So my husband drove home from work and brought me to the eye doctor to have the particle(it felt like a plank) removed. It's a humbling experience walking around with one eye closed because you injured yourself while putting on make-up. To further the warm feeling of humiliation after the doctor swabbed the plank out of my eye he had to put it under a microscope in order to see it. I'm hoping the eye doctor is a hardwood enthusiast and he wanted to see what kind of fine wood I had scraping my eyeball.


By the way since my plank removal I may be lending my much needed advise to your lives. (Matthew 7:5) I know you will be looking forward to what I have to say. :)

Well that's it for now. I'm quite sure we'll share some time again soon!