Tricky Sitch-y-ation

K was playing outside this afternoon and came back in, shortly after going out.

"Are you done? Is no one else outside?" I asked.

Yes, there were a handful of neighbor kids playing outside. But . . .

One of the kids (about seven years old) apparently had a toy cell phone, and was holding it down by his crotch and saying "My p---- is ringing!" (I'm editing because I don't want keywords and searches for such things leading HERE. We are a family blog, folks. Ahem.) He was also calling names and cussing--lightweight cussing, but bad words, nonetheless. There were no adults outside at the time to witness this kid in all his glory.

So K came in. Which, really, I am proud of her for making that decision. She removed herself form an uncomfortable and --frankly-- a bad situation. And she didn't tattle, she told me what had happened when I asked.

So now what do I do? Here's the thing:

Number One: If MY kids were acting that way and talking like that, I most certainly would want to know about it because letmetellyouwhat, there would be some serious consequences. BUT

Number Two: I'm a little intimidated by this family because of some things I've seen and even some interactions I've had with them . . . really I just try to avoid more than a friendly-wave-when-we're-driving-away relationship. And to be honest, I don't know that such behavior would be considered such a bad thing in their estimation. I mean, Jeff and I have witnessed some, ahhhhh, questionable behavior on the part of the adults, so it makes me wonder if acting like that would simply be chalked up to "he's just being a boy!" So I try not to judge, but at the same time, I need to be aware of what my kids could possibly be exposed to, which is why my radar is kind of on high alert whenever they're outside.

By the way, The kids are well taken care of and clearly loved. I'm not insinuating that there is any neglect or abuse, just a COMPLETELY different parenting style than my own.

So what do you think? Should I talk to the mom and risk the wrath (or indifference?) of an irritated neighbor? Should I just let it go considering that our kids don't play a TON with this child, and I could easily *limit* playtime without making a big deal of it to my kids? I did talk to K and told her that she was right to walk away from a situation where she was not comfortable, and I encouraged her to always do that . . . but I don't necessarily want to forbid her to play with this kid--she's still too young to handle that tactfully.

What would YOU do? Please advise.

MM: Africa

I've always liked this song, and this is a cool rendition of it. I especially like when they "become" thunder. Ch-ch-check it out~

What's moving YOU this week? Do share! =)

UPDATE: We are havuing really bad Linky Luck this week, so please leave your link in the comments. Diane, ever the gracious host, has added a few links to her post HERE. Don't forget to visit and support other MM players!

WW: Let's Go Campin'!

I haven't done Writers' Workshop for awhile, so I thought I'd jump back in this week.

List 5 things you like to do while camping . . . (inspired by Kisatrtle)

Top Five Things To Do While Camping (with OUR fam):

5. Wrestle with an "easy-up!" tent and its poles, only to have it fall down at least twice.

4. Blow up an air mattress with my own two lungs because the battery-operated blower-upper is dead.

3. Lose X for three minutes, taking three YEARS off of my life.

2. Use a latrine. 'Nuff said.

1. Make wonderful memories with Jeff and the kids that will haunt last us for a lifetime!

What are you paranoid about? (inspired by Melissa)

I'm not generally a worrier. But I have to HAVE TO say to Jeff, before he leaves for work, these three things:

Goodbye, I love you.

Have a good day.

BE SAFE. (I even say it to him in all caps)

Seriously, if I don't get the chance to say those three things because he leaves and I'm still too groggy to realize he's leaving (he goes to work super early), then I will text him as soon as I realize those words did not reach his ears that morning. I'm paranoid that something will happen to him and the last thing he ever heard from me wasn't "I love you." The "be safe" thing is like my little superstitious good luck charm, like if I say it out loud, somehow it will be protect him for the day. He works in the construction industry and HAS been injured on the job before, so . . .it MUST be said.

The other thing I'm paranoid about is talking on a cell phone while filling up your gas tank. I still don't know if it can really cause an explosion, but my feeling is, if it's at all possible, then hang up the phone for five minutes!! This REALLY irritates me when I'm at the pump and my kids are in the car and someone at the next pump is yapping away, filling their tank. I just think, if there is some kind of explosion and we all DO survive it, I am going to kill you for putting my kids in danger!

I truly think these things as I top off.

This loveliness brought to you by MamaKat and her Writer's Workshop.

Mom FAIL

I have come to the conclusion that up until this point in their lives, I have failed my two oldest children in a big way.

They are incapable of cleaning anything without my being in the same room helping them (read: doing the majority of the work) and giving explicit, step-by-step instructions.

And when I say clean, I mean pick up after themselves. Put THEIR crap away.

Here is, for example, a direction that I have to give, such as, "Go put that blue pair of shoes in the closet, nice and neat, and then come right back."

If I were to say something like, "Go put those shoes in the closet," while WE were cleaning a room, I would either A) see that same pair of shoes in the exact same place five minutes later, and when the child is questioned, get the response, "I didn't know which shoes you meant!" or B) later on, see the shoes thrown somewhere within a ten-foot radius of a closet (not necessarily the correct closet), with maybe one of the shoes actually making it IN to the closet, and the other flying who-knows-where, like under the bed or in the toy box. Oh, and unless I specify that they have to return to me for another direction, they will somehow wander off . . .

It makes me *cR?aZ!Y*!

And quite frankly, it's really starting to make me mad. They are 8-going-on-9 and 6-going-on-7 years old. I should be able to tell them to pick up their rooms or the family room (where a lot of toys live)--rooms they have helped / watched ME clean thirteen BILLION times in their lifetime--and expect that it should get done within a reasonable amount of time WITHOUT the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. OR my help, for that matter. Right?

RIGHT??!?

Yeah, right.

So today, I had gotten a movie that I thought we could all watch together. But I told them that they had to clean up the family room first, before we watched the movie. I had a few things I wanted to do before the movie started and I figured, they could clean up the room, I could get my stuff done, and then we could all settle in and enjoy the show.

Fifteen minutes later (P-L-E-N-T-Y of time to clean the room!), I'm done with my stuff and there is hardly a change to the mess they were supposed to clean. M is standing there, waiting for K to return, because heaven forbid! he do any more work than she. And where is the little princess? Where she always is when she is asked to do a chore:

*The bathroom*

It's like her digestive system instinctively knows when she is supposed to work, and it suddenly requires her undivided attention. And that girl will stay in the loo for three hours, playing rockstar in the mirror if we didn't threaten her very life to get. out. right. now!

So I'd had it. I sent them to their rooms and I watched the movie all by myself. In a cluttered family room. And I made them stay in their rooms the entire time. Which really isn't a punishment because they have so much crap in there to play with too, but they didn't like being banished. And they knew I was m.a.d.

When the flick ended, I told them to come out and I was going to give them a second chance. That I was going to take a shower, and by the time I got out, the entire room had to be cleaned and vacuumed. And I threatened vague and dire consequences if it was not done. And I did this all with a Mean Mom voice and face. Bwa-ha-ha!

(Trust me, I am WELL aware of my poor parenting skills: enabling, weak consequences, vague threats, etc. Remember the title of this post? I know I've got no one to blame but myself.)

But magically, when I got out of the shower to check their progress, *gasp!* the room was perfectly clean! Toys organized, carpet vacuumed, everything straightened.

Turns out all I have to do is threaten them and be mean and then they'll obey. So this whole time, me being nice and patient and helpful was totally the wrong tactic. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to know that I just have to scream and be as mean as I can to my kids for my house to be in order and for them to pitch in.

Being a mom really stinks sometimes.

What do YOU do to get your kids to help out?

Fourth of July Recap

Our Fourth this year was VERY busy. A lot of fun, but Sunday I pretty much hibernated for the day to recuperate. (And please excuse the lack of pictures. I forgot my camera everywhere we went. Sigh.)

The day began at 5:30 AM for me . . . as the Activities Chairperson for my ward, I needed to be setting up and getting ready for our annual pancake breakfast that we do each year. We always start it early because it is SO HOT. I think it was only in the 90's when we began at 7:30, and the tables were under shade, so it wasn't too bad.

After everyone chowed down, we played some games and wound the whole thing up around 10 AM with a water balloon launch (that, of course, turned into a water balloon fight). But just being out in the heat, and being "on" for a few hours, getting everything situated, directing games, then getting everything cleaned up and put away, WORE. ME. OUT. Don't get me wrong, we have a fabulous ward and everyone pitched in to help wherever they could. I was certainly not doing things alone! So when all was said and done, I think people enjoyed themselves and it was a fun start to a great day for a lot of people.

Once we got home, I fell into bed and just decompressed. If you have never experienced a HOT climate, take it from me: if you spend a few hours out in the heat, and then come into cool air-conditioning . . . it really messes with your body. At best, you feel a little tired and lazy, at worst, you feel sick to your stomach and can barely move. I was closer to the sick end of the scale. Being pregnant in the Vegas summertime is not for the faint of heart.

Anyhoo, don't worry about me; laying around and relaxing for several hours helped! We then headed over to my nephew's birthday party. He turns five tomorrow, but what better way to celebrate your birthday than with swimming, a BBQ and fireworks? As it got dark a bunch of us migrated over to my mom's house where my baby brother put on yet another epic fireworks display, even more fantastic than last year. This year, M was out helping to light as many fireworks as he could and it was so funny to watch him high-tail it to the sidewalk as soon as a fuse was lit. Of course, I was happy that he was trying to get the heck away as quickly as possible!

What is it with boys and fireworks things that ignite and/or blow up??

By the way, I was a little surprised at X's reaction. He was okay for the first couple of crackly displays, but once the big ones got going, he FREAKED out. Poor baby was shaking and crying and hiding his face in his hands, burrowing into my neck. Needless to say, that after a minute or two of trying to convince him (unsuccessfully!) that he was okay, I ended up taking him in the house and letting him watch (what else?) Caillou. I'd ask him periodically if he wanted to go outside again, and he was very adamant that "NO!" He did not.

We got home around 10:30 and hit the hay. Hope your 4th was fun-filled and fabulous as well!