Supermodel Scrooge

long break between posts. I am awful.

Advising Future Doctors

Its Halloween  I am wearing my "I'm a Treat" shirt and loving it. The weather is glorious, the baby is healthy and we are at these weird doldrums in the semester where I get to just teach and not worry about grades and tests convincing people to drop before they fail. (there is advising but come on who doesn't love doling out advice). I digress.

I haven't written because of being busy with work but also, it has been so beautiful of late that I have actually requested spending time with family. Strange I know. Yesterday, baby stay puft had an appointment at the doctor where her parents found out she is still quite large with a side of snotty nose. I then went and retrieved our other two children, Wilson and Mr. Fabulous. We then enjoyed the best kind of fun, forced family fun. I enjoyed it and the boys better look back on these years as the best years they have ever had so help me god. We all went for a stroll through our neighborhood. We love to do this when time allows. It is possible that we are the only family that does this sort of thing but I force this type of family fun because you can't convince me that it isn't post war 1955. After getting back, the boys and I set out to carve pumpkins.

My actual truck. It's fabulous (to me)

Pandora "Family Halloween" station, lazy magnolia beer, and carving pumpkins on the back of my truck. This is the recipe for a near perfect fall afternoon. This is where we hit the rub. Apparently the Russian Supermodel doesn't celebrate Halloween. She has in the past when friends threw parties and was the life of the party and the star of the after party but with just her family she can't find a reason to get dressed up. She is now Scrooge Mc'Ducking the rest of us by not dressing up Princess Chunkykins either! Stay Puft was the key to extra candy. Babies equal at least double candy allotments per house. I may Bush era Halloween Candy Tax for Moms expire. No more first dibs out of the boys bags!

She couldn't be bothered

Ruined both applicable
holidays for me!

I have a theory. First, this past weekend while Mr. Fabulous was spending the night away, Wilson and I drank cider and played Battleship in front of the fire. (yes it is cold enough for a fire) This made her want to decorate for Christmas! Blasphemy I say. I know she wouldn't decorate this early but now she has it on the brain. Who throws Halloween and more importantly Thanksgiving under the bus for stinking Christmas? Ghost Pilgrims are rolling in their graves. Second! I know for a fact that the artsy little hostess(cake) with the most-est hiding out behind her "sexy scientist" costume is dying to start a family tradition of a costume party at our house for the event. I think she is boycotting because she can't have her party. Let her have her party and see the hand-sewn bespoke one-off sexy yet appropriate regalia that she creates out of bits of string and found objects.

So the day at work is drawing to a close and I am nibbling on chocolates and staring at my three wee pumpkins on my desk enjoying this first holiday of fall while my Smoking Hot Supermodel Wife tries to think of ways to get out of trick or treating. For shame.

Love is in the air (in Mexico)

Lunch at Hall-Kent

Yeah so love is apparently in the air at the boys elementary school. To catch you all up to speed, last year Wilson (the elder) was hounded by the fairer sex all of last year. By hounded, I mean to say that he was chased around the school and playground and had his shins kicked in. There were constant bruises and discussions of wearing shin guards under his jeans were discussed. It culminated in gang (yes gang) of these girls hyped up on the deluge of hormones that accompanies pre-pubescence, cornering poor Wilson on the playground and attempting to rip his favorite shirt from his body thus revealing his HotBod®. His mother has saved this shirt along with other bits of the boys youth in a box labeled blackmail to be used "only in case of wedding rehearsal."

Sword Fight!

This as well as Wilson matured over the summer and he informed his mother and I at the breakfast table this morning that he in fact has a girlfriend. His first. She is shy and nice and they are very quiet about the whole thing. We had been tipped off to this fact by another parent. The supermodel was not happy that she was the last to know and did her best Spanish inquisition reenactment this morning (without all the roman catholic business and was wearing her confederate uniform replica. It was her only reenactment gear clean). Apparently I tease him too much about his budding romance and so it was hidden from the family. I told him I would relent so to avoid any Shakespearean Drama (Mr. Fabulous would totally be Tybalt. Starts a sword fight to save his family and then is killed by that family member).

Do you or do you not have a girlfriend?

Now we have traveled back in time to kill Mercutio and punish non-Catholics but have yet to mention Mexico. How does this fit in you ask? Mr. Fabulous has been cornered! His attackers similar to his brothers. Now before I continue I have to tell you that Mr. Fabulous has had many, many girlfriends. Many of these terms in office ran concurrently. After one tailgate in the Grove he came back and informed us that he was dating the majority of the Tri-Delta sorority. Shy he is not but alas the tables have turned.

Poor Mr. Fabulous

His attackers serenaded him with the classic school yard ditty, "I want to go to Mexico. Grab [Mr. Fabulous] by the hips and kiss him on the lips. I want to go to Mexico." I know all are thinking that is classic and about the last time you heard this. The supermodel and I had never heard this one. I blame it my sub par schooling. He tried to relay this to us at dinner but was so embarrassed that he couldn't get through it and Wilson had to relay the exact words of the song. We have found the one thing that Mr. Fab can't stand. Girls liking him back. Alas, yesterday the tune had changed to I don't want to go to Mexico, No No No. Girls are so fickle.

She didn't want to go to Mexico

I tried the song out on the supermodel. Apparently it only works coming from the female and upon her refusal no one stepped in to run her through with a sword for dishonoring me (It was after Tybalt's bed time). So, I am looking for a babysitter so that I can take the supermodel to Mexico and to keep the boys from ever going there.

Hotty Toddy

Wilson's best friend

Weekend away from home was needed. Wilson had developed two separate rashes in as many weeks and was on enough Benadryl to gentle a horse and was still kicking. Mr. Fabulous survived a week of birthday festivities including an artificially red strawberry cake. Red really isn't the word. That would be like saying grape flavoring in cold medicine tastes like grapes. This was the color of a cherry slush puppy. There was so much food coloring that it tasted more like food coloring that strawberry cake. I digress.

A weekend away. There was a mad rush Friday to make this happen but we got the family packed and on the road and make the quick jaunt to Oxford, MS. 

(Well, no we didn't. We went to Water Valley Mississippi to drop the boys off to spend time with their dad's family. Where we got to spend time with the supermodels ex-inlaws and introduce stay puft. I would be lying if i said that this was anything but strange. These are some of the nicest people you can meet and are welcoming and invite you in and offer you sweet tea and a spot on the porch. They ooo and ahh over the baby and then you realize that this is odd. The boys grandfather is sincere and honest and pulled me to the side to thank me for raising the boys right (humbling). I always leave knowing two things. 1. I have to continue to not kill the boys and 2. It is odd to spend time with your ex-in/out laws twice removed. Not bad, just odd.)

rough sketch of noonanza

We then go to Paris, MS to visit the petting zoo that is Noonanza. This is the home of my former doctoral adviser and his wife , two children, father, one of his grad students, 4 dogs, 2 cats, 2 rats, ~30 chickens, ~5 goats, 5 African spur-thigh-ed tortoises of a size that allows children to ride them, 3 peacocks, a plethora of heritage breed turkeys, a parrot, a gaggle of geese, whatever is living is their sons room (probably a few snakes) and I think that is it. I know I left some out and they will correct me but that is all I can remember off the top of my head. Its more of a compound with various homes and barns and coops.  Its always a good time. 

Apple Pie flavor to be exact

In our weekend there we had raw goats milk with Oreo's, alligator tail, rabbit (that's what i forgot! load of these.), moonshine and other things that just don't come to mind as far as locally raised or personally killed in the case of the alligator. This is a quality family. We had a wonderful time and ate like kings. Their daughter took control of stay puft's care and may have a permanent job if she is willing to drop out of middle school and leave her family. (If that qualifies as human trafficking so be it.) 

We spent the day Saturday visiting old friends (the Candy Lady and the Jedi) and then lounging in The Grove™. The baby giant was passed around and drinks were poured. The weather was glorious and apparently there was a football game. Did we have tickets and could we have gone? Yes but who leaves good company and great food to watch non-Crimson Tide football? Everyone before they die should regardless of sports fandom spend a game day in The Grove™. Trust me. Girls in cocktail dresses and tall shoes competing to see who can walk the furthest without falling down or spilling their bourbon should be an Olympic event. I even got to go walk around my old building and be glad its not my building anymore. It was nice. 

The noonan boy and my dinner

Back at the ranch that evening the festivities continued well into the evening. I am happy to report that I stayed away past 9 both nights. Big weekend for me. Home brewed beer was had as well as other blue ribbon winning beer. The gator was fried. The wings were fried. The rabbit was wascally and delicious. We crashed at the end of the night. 

Sunday morning, the mythical beast that is stay puft and I took a walk to see the barnyard animals as we had done the day before but we went to visit the patriarch of the group who is a rock star woodworker and a philanthropist with a heart of gold. He and I sat and drank coffee, watched the baby play, and enjoyed a thunderstorm blowing in. Best morning ever. Lazy Sunday followed a lazy Saturday and then we came home and jumped into the busiest week I have had in a long time. Go figure. I did remember why I love the supermodel and how fun it spend time with friends with her hanging on my arm. 

Napping through and Kitchen Renovation

After the party was over, every one went to their respective rooms to nap. Mr. Fabulous (aka Dr. Toilet) and Wilson complained and were both asleep within 5 minutes. Wilson had retreated to a friends house to miss the party and stayed up late as well. I never went to sleep because naps make me grumpy. I don't know why but I do know I loathe this about myself. After one hour, Wilson was up. After two and a half I was forced to wake his mother as I had gotten a two minute warning from 2-pop(my father) that he and his contractor friend who will be known as Bob the Builder (BtB). We had known for some time that with my parents kitchen remodel we would be getting hand me down appliances. There was much rejoicing. I was not however prepared to get the phone call.

What do you mean it doesn't fit.
Of course I measured. I used a yard stick

I was told they were two minutes away and I should disconnect and remove my dishwasher and refrigerator so as to speed up the process of replacing them. You know two minutes is enough time. I will not complain about doing the work because I later caught the supermodel hugging the new fridge. The dishwasher went in without a hitch while the fridge wanted to fight us. It was 1/8 of an inch too tall to fit under the cabinet above. First, the front feet are lowered. Not enough. Then there is what 2pop refers to as "figurin" which he has no taste for. It is decided by BtB and 2pop that the rear wheels have to come off  as well. I am the toter in all this. I tote tools from the basement to the kitchen for them as they call out their names. "Thingamgig?" "I've got twenty." (But who cares... I want moooooorrrreeeeeee. Sorry couldn't stop in the middle.) My quads have begun to burn from trips up and down the stairs when I ask if there is anything I can do to help out BtB in return for all this help in the kitchen. The answer had been discussed while on one of my trips to the basement before I asked.

More or less my basement. Yes, including the statue of Eric

Picture this, I am in basketball shorts, flip-flops, and a t-shirt toting my welder and welding helmet to the driveway. I was to weld the sides back onto his trailer where they had broken free. I was pumped. No more toting, I get to weld, and I don't owe anyone any favors at the end of the day. That task got done and it is always nice to weld again even if I do smell like singed hair afterwards according to the supermodel. And does she have to tell everyone that I set my jeans on fire when I took my welding class? It happens to everybody.

Mr. Fabulous was woken up in the middle of all of this but was not truly with us until some time Sunday. Lack of sleep we have found is the only thing that can stop his mouth and his appetite. Don't tell his teachers though as they may ask up to get all Gitmo at home and do sleep deprivation trials and we may agree to them.

Link to song so you can REALLY get it stuck in your head.

Now don't I feel Sheepish

Great film and future tattoo

So, perhaps I was a bit dramatic in assuming we/our house wouldn't survive the weekend and the sleepover. I will however say that several other parents read us our last rights and wanted to have our mental health checkups a bit early this year. Where to begin? Friday was a mad dash to get Luke's Christmas Tree rash seen about, Cookie Cake picked up(with some double doosies), Stay Puft sprung, then to where shopping is a pleasure to get snacks for the 8 AM soccer game the next day. All this went off brilliantly. We even had extra time to clean the house a bit and gather our nerves and devise a strategy to flank and out maneuver the warring hoard of 3rd graders.

Turns out they were all the most polite and well behaved children in the world. Dr. Toilet was the consummate host and was as well mannered and even keeled as any other child whose body had been snatch and replaced by some alien surrogate. This makes twice in one week that this alien has shirked off the responsibility of loudest, attention seeking little brother. I am consulting my star chart later to see which planets are aligned and when they will be again so that we can host a party in our home.

or in sombrero, El doctor senor toilet

The roving gang patrolled the neighborhood, swords in hand, looking for trouble. There was none to be found so they returned, had pizza, cookie cake and ice cream, and retired to the basement to  enjoy a film. I have never heard such polite children. I almost feel bad for assuming they would burn my house to the ground after tying me up and throwing me down the stairs. I will say that prior to watching the movie they all had to take off their shirts. I don't remember this part of my childhood of topless male bonding but I don't doubt it happened. After they had finished their film, they went to bed and turned out the lights. This happened at say 9:45 or 10.

I immediately go to sleep.

Has there ever been a more
frustrating game to lose to kids at?

Should I feel bad for not staying up? For not making sure they went to sleep? I do not feel guilt over this. Reports came back in the morning that soon after the lights went out, they came back on and board games were played until 2 in the morning. Good for them. A spirited round or two of Battleship never hurt anyone. (Unless you count veterans of WWII).

The hot light was on. Similar
to a grail shaped beacon.

I was up at 6 and out the door to get doughnuts. Dropped them off and went to get Wilson for a soccer game. I got back as boys were being picked up around 10-12. A good time was had and then naps were taken. Brilliant Sleepover? Check!

Last Will and Testament

Basically this without all that namby pamby protective gear

I wanted to put pen to paper before having to start my weekend. There is quite a large possibility that I will not survive the night. Dr. Toilet is having his birthday sleepover tonight. There will be an additional 4-5 3rd graders in my home this evening. The King of Commodes is pumped. Plans have been made and discussed for weeks now. He conned me into making party favors for all of the guests. Over the past week I have been busy creating 8 wooden swords. Say what you will about it being a terrible idea or that I will have to explain broken bones to parents. He conned me. No silly puppy dog eyes or pleases. No, he is good. He said and I quote, "most of the kids coming over don't have dad's as awesome as you that will make them awesome swords like you make for me." Flattery will get you everywhere. Plus, he called me dad. That has been an ongoing saga. I am Padre and have been for some time. I have been told that I can't be dad because I am not his real dad. I hope he never realizes the power he has over me by calling me dad. It would be the ruin of my house in the most Shakespearean of senses. 

I miss my youth. 

The plan is pizza, cookie cake, ice cream, and a movie. This will be followed by staying up all night in his room. I hope to beat everyone home and hide the baby monitor in there so as to be able to relay the hilarity to you the reader. Swords will be doled out in the morning along with doughnuts. Can I please just say, best birthday ever? Sadly I will have to get up with the sun to go pick up son number 1 from a friend’s house. (There is a child swap in effect as we are trading a 5th grader for a 3rd for the night) He has a soccer game at 8 AM. I will leave the supermodel at home with baby stay puft and the party/gang/hoard. 

The younger brother of one of my
players. At least he plays as well. 

As an aside I may have recruited a younger brother of a player to help us this weekend. We may get the ball to the other team’s side of the field. I hope to take 2 shots on goal and limit them to fewer than 5 goals. Attainable goals people. I am also in charge of snacks for the game on Saturday and I WILL bring enough for the coach. 

At some point, having returned from soccer, I will disband the warring hoard and send them (with their swords) home. I will then load my sons into the car and possibly stay puft and take them to the football game where I work. The supermodel will have a chance to rest and I get to show off my ab-fab kids who will be without sleep and coming off of a sugar buzz. They should be a delight. 

I digress. I would like to leave the supermodel and my children to Stuben the Bearded as I trust him to take care of my family and I never really liked him much. I would like to leave June-Bug the hound to the wilds of Mississippi as disdain is the only thing she ever really had for humanity. All earthly possessions will have been destroyed by tomorrow morning so dividing up the bits shouldn't be too hard for the Fire Marshall to sort out.