kill me now

6-year old Gets Some. Mom Mortified. News at 11

September 5, 2009 by Queen of Spain 21 Comments

My 6-year old got his first piece of ass today.

Yes, my baby boy thought it was appropriate to swim underwater right on over to Megan and pinch her butt.

That’s right, an adult he’s never met. A guest in my home. And my son thinks its just fine to grab her ass.

I blame his father.

Alright not really, but I do blame the casual …ummm…atmosphere at our home. My son thought it was totally fine to pinch Megan’s ass because he’s pinched mine. And his Dad has pinched mine. And when we’re swimming in the pool they are the ‘sharks’ and they come get Mom. They get me by going underwater and pinching my butt. I squeal, they laugh…and life goes on.

Never in my wildest dreams did it occur to me my little guy would think this was fine to do this to other people.

Imagine, if you will, being a guest in my home and swimming in my pool. Suddenly, out of nowhere, you feel a pinch on your ass and turn to find a 1st grader underwater by your butt.

Of course I’d like to say, as the Mom, I handled the situation well. But as it turns out just moments before said pinching, I had been stung by a bee and was far from able to give the situation the attention it deserved.

Megan was a gracious guest and laughed it off…but what else could she do? My son had just got himself some and giggled about it. What sort of hedonistic home had she brought herself and her children to?

Mine.

Parenting fail.

But now he can say he’s grabbed Megan’s butt.

Filed Under: Count Waffles, Kaiser, kill me now, Men and their duckcamps

Girly Girl

August 21, 2009 by Queen of Spain 11 Comments

I don’t think I pushed her that way. I don’t think I encouraged make up and dresses and changing clothes 10 times a day. I don’t obsess about matching or cute shoes.

Or do I?

At least she put on the Wonder Woman arm band for good measure.

Filed Under: kill me now, Princess Peanut

She Will Marry A Hootin’ And Hollerin’ Construction Worker

June 20, 2009 by Queen of Spain 17 Comments

I said look at me. And whistle. Yes, I said whistle. I SAID TO LOOK AT ME AND WHISTLE because LOOK how pretty I am.

That’s exactly what my daughter was saying as this photo was taken.

Hand on her hip and angry, she wanted a boy’s attention and she wanted it with a cat call.

I was horrified.

Of course we then had a discussion about wanting attention because we’re smart, not pretty, and that whistling was actually quite rude.

My daughter’s reaction? To sigh heavily like a 16-year old, throw her Hello Kitty purse over her shoulder, and then roll her eyes at me.

Uh huh.

My son, on the other hand, refused to participate and then repeated to her what I had said when she, again, asked him to give her a cat call.

Who’s child is this? Because she can’t possibly be mine.

Ok, Ok, maybe in the ‘wanting attention’ department she might be mine.

Ok, Ok, maybe she thinks gaining the attention of boys is..um…good. And maybe she learned that from….

ahhhh. Fuck.

Filed Under: #suckit, kill me now, Princess Peanut, Stepford Crazies

Muscles

May 22, 2009 by Queen of Spain 19 Comments

Said to the nice, unsuspecting, stunned cashier at a major department store:

“I have muscles in my VAGINA!”

Filed Under: kill me now, Stepford Crazies

Lack of Halo

May 4, 2009 by Queen of Spain 24 Comments

And to think I nearly took a 4-year old down for hurting my daughter…

A funny thing happened on my couch last night. My daughter animatedly told my husband and I a story about her day that included a classmate…let’s call him Cody…getting in trouble for “being mean” to her.

You see as she told the story, Cody was mean. He did something…and that was as specific as it got…that made my daughter angry and she “didn’t want to play with him” anymore.

Of course I did what any mother would do. I was ready to take down Cody AND his mother. Who was this kid? Why was he “mean” and could I get him kicked out of nursery school?

Ok not really, but you know how you get when you hear your child had an encounter with anyone that was less than polite to them.

hold me back!! let me at the bastards!!

But then the story went on as I asked more questions, as I am prone to do…

So what did Cody do that was so mean?

And why didn’t you want to play with him?

And the girls didn’t want him there?

And you told him to go away?

Why did you tell him to go away?

So you don’t want to play with any boys?

Uh huh. This was a clear case of gender discrimination on the playground. Our Princess Peanut banished Cody from playing with her…because he was a boy.

There was the typical parental discussion after. We play with everyone. We’re nice to everyone. Its’ not nice to tell him he’s not allowed to play with you. blah blah blah.

And how did she take it?

She folded her arms and scowled at me like I, too, had a penis.

Clearly I did not understand the politics of a preschool playground and clearly I was a stupid mother for even suggesting she play with a boy or be NICE to a boy.

I’m going to miss this, aren’t I? The her hating boys thing? I’m going to LONG for this day again in about 10 years.

Sigh.

Probably. But what I won’t long for is the attitude she had when talking about Cody. You could hear that “mean girl” venom dripping from her words and it scared the shit out of me. I knew full well what it was like to alienate a classmate from a playground game. And yes, it was and is still MEAN.

My daughter CAN NOT be mean. It’s NOT ALLOWED. She can’t have that nasty attitude some girls seem to pick up and wield in social circles. IT MUST NOT BE.

Just as soon as the story was coming out of her, I wanted to force a change in the attitude I was witnessing.

FORCE.

But all I could do with sit there, alongside her beloved Dad, and reiterate to her how she must be kind, and include everyone, and never hurt any one’s feelings.

I don’t think she heard us. I don’t think she cared. And I’m fairly sure she went to school this week and ostracized poor Cody.

Who has a penis, by no fault of his own.

Filed Under: kill me now, Princess Peanut, Stepford Crazies

Because Nothing Says Family Fun Like the Cops Surrounding the House

April 30, 2009 by Queen of Spain 20 Comments

jail Dinner time should really be that time of day when the family winds down and shares their day. You sit at the table, tell eachother how school/work/thepark went and calmly and quietly eat and talk.

I’d recommend it NOT be the time of day when an alarm blares loud enough to actually be painful to your ears and sheriff’s deputies, with guns drawn, surround your house and peer through your windows.

I can make this recommendation speaking from experience, because my 6-year old had 3 cops cars at our house the other night...the gangsta.

Raise your hand if you have a junk drawer in your kitchen…. uh huh…I know you do. We do too. In the back of that junk drawer is a little remote control with a panic button.

As my son searched for AAA batteries for his Robot, he found the remote and, being six, pressed the red panic button.

Not the green button. Not the blue one. Not even the yellow one. No…he went straight for the red “holy fuck we’re being attacked’ panic button.

I was upstairs putting away laundry and cleaning screwing around on the computer when I heard

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

and there was much gnashing of teeth and screaming and crying and chaos.

Flying downstairs thinking the rapture was upon us I found my son screaming “make it stop! make it stop! make it stop!”while my daughter had dive-bombed herself under a blanket.

As calmly as I could I asked my son to show me exactly how this ungodly noise started in our home, realized it was the house alarm, and went to press the code to, in fact, make it stop.

It seems in the midst of the chaos the alarm company called, we failed to answer (not hearing the phone over the alarm and all) and they immediately called the police.

So while I sat the kids down and had a nice discussion with them about NOT TOUCHING shit they aren’t supposed to touch, my brother exclaims “the cops are here…they have guns…I need my ID…”

I look out my front window to see a very nice sheriff’s deputy, gun drawn, at my front window.

Um…holy shit?

This news prompts the 6-year old to panic and cry, and me to sooth him with “don’t worry you’re not in trouble, the police just want to make sure we’re safe’ tones as I open the door and apologize to the …6 (?) uniformed deputies and plain clothed detectives out front.

Yes, I am fairly certain my son will never push another button again for as long as he lives.

Yes, I am really glad the cops showed up so quickly and were not hauling us all off to jail for screwing up.

Yes, I will- if this ever happens again- try and contact my alarm company a bit faster.

Yes, I cost my city tax payer dollars because I have a messy junk drawer.

and yes, even our quiet dinner times here are never, ever, dull.

No wonder the neighbors love us so much.

Filed Under: Count Waffles, Houseboy, kill me now, Stepford Crazies

In Which I Explain Sex To A Kindergartner, Via A Stud Horse

March 12, 2009 by Queen of Spain 33 Comments

Dirty Jobs.

I blame Dirty Jobs and it’s horse breeding episode that had me explaining things like “artificial vagina” and “ejaculation” to my soon-to-be 6-year old.

Uh huh.

*Let me just state here and now I have ZERO issues discussing sex. I have ZERO issues with children learning about sex in an age appropriate manner. I have ZERO issues with taking responsibility and doing my parental duty*

However…

I wasn’t ready.

And it’s unclear if I started my son down the path of perversion or education.

There he was, innocently laying in my bed after having 3 teeth pulled at the dentist. My son will be 6 this month and we’ve always had age appropriate sex discussions. Boys have a penis, girls have a vagina…that sort of thing. I had never gotten into the “mechanics” of sex because it didn’t seem necessary yet. A man and a woman were together, they have different parts, there was love…general terms were always used.

Never the low down and dirty fun-stick in the whoo-ha talk.

I was quietly working at my desk, my son was lazily watching the Discovery Channel. I was listening but not too closely.

Type type type type goes Mom.

…and the horse will need to ejaculate into this artificial vagina…

stop typing

…wow he’s really going to town!

get up quickly walk over to bed and tv. I look at the tv. Look at my son’s WIDE AS SAUCER EYES and then watch him roll over in bed and fake that he’s not watching.

Honey, do you want to talk about what you just saw? Do you have any questions?

I’m panicking right now. Do I talk about this with him RIGHT NOW? Is he too young? Will he understand? Of course he will understand. Will he GET IT and then, you know, try to do it? Oh sweet Mary Mother of God WHAT do I do? IF ONLY I COULD USE TEH GOOGLE TO HELP ME NOW.

So you saw that the horse used his penis to do something, right? Yes…well, that’s how people work too. Except usually the boy puts his penis in a girl’s vagina. A real one. Not like the fake one the horse used.

Son looks up at me with a “huh” on his face

And this is only when you are a grown up. And when you are really really in love.

Do I say married? Should I? I don’t really believe that. Maybe I should just say it so he thinks that’s really far away. No..moment has passed. I won’t.

Son starts playing with a scab on his arm. I can’t tell if he’s still paying attention to me.

You know that’s what Mommies and Daddies do to make babies. Then you were in my belly and your sister was in my belly.

For some reason I left out the “YOUR mommy and daddy did this” language. I have no idea why. It was like admitting the obvious outloud…yes, Your Dad put HIS penis in MY vagina. Why I couldn’t say this, exactly, is just stupid. I mean, I had already said that’s how it worked. Why couldn’t I take that extra step?

And some people do make babies other ways, in ways kind of like what you saw on tv..and they put the sperm into a woman’s body.

Son looks up at me

You mean they just shove it into her belly and a baby comes out?

Well, not exactly. They put it in her uterus or up her vagina.

Now I’m not even sure if that’s right. Crap. Why haven’t I read more infertility bloggers…do I go on? Do I really explain more about this?

Hey Mom, look at my legs…

Oh god, body part show and tell?

Aren’t they getting long? My legs are cool.

And with that he jumped up on the bed and proceeded to show me the splits.

Our bodies are COOL.

I nodded.

I went back to my desk.

I messaged my husband to let him know that I probably just permanently fucked up our kid.

He messaged back with a “OH MY, I’m SO sorry baby.” Clearly feeling my pain.

I feel like I missed a bunch of things I should have said to him. Or maybe I didn’t. I was just so caught off guard. Stupid show. Stupid Discovery Channel. Stupid stupid stupid Mommy.

Ah, cable tv. You showed my son something he probably would haven seen on a farm back in the day. Or, at least, something close to it. Should I have looked to see what exactly today’s Dirty Jobs episode would be? If I knew, would I have let him watch it anyway? Were the nuts and bolts necessary in this conversation since he’s so little?

I have no idea. I have no idea. I have no idea.

But hey…look how long my son’s legs are getting! Aren’t they cool?

Filed Under: Count Waffles, kill me now, Stepford Crazies

Dress Watch: Day 4

March 4, 2009 by Queen of Spain 5 Comments

I have gotten her bathed and new, clean clothes on UNDER…however we’re now on Day 4 and counting of the Great Pink Party Dress WEARATHON of 2009.