Not ME! Monday....The Plop heard round the world!!

Spring break stirred in me a little writing sabbatical. Actually, I would have loved to write some- it's my deep-breathing, my release- but with 3 kids to keep simultaneously entertained and brawl-free, I didn't have much time on my hands. Which explains why my floors and countertops look the way they do. Or not. I'm not really sure.....

So, with all that good ole quality time together as a family, I have ample material to choose from for today's Not Me! post. None of these stories are real of course- I write them just to make the disheveled, unstructured, absent-mided mothers amongst us feel better about themselves. Yeah, you're welcome.

I should mention that if you don't have children or you're even a teensie bit squeamish, you'd be better off skipping this paragraph. Just trust me. Okay then. On a busy morning last week, I brought Jack in from the backyard, filthy, covered in a slather of sunscreen and mud. So, I sat him in the bathtub, to get him all fresh and squeaky clean. I was sorting through piles of dirty clothes when I heard Jack making some funny grunting sounds. I turned to see his face- beet red.....do you know where I am going with this? Like in Hollywood horror flicks, I screamed 'NOOOOOOOOO' in slow motion, and dove down to reach him, his face still red, but now with an expression of confusion and slight fear. And just as I was lifting him up, I searched the bath water for any sign of what he had been 'producing'. I had my son barely 3 inches out of the water when I swear, I did NOT hear it- PLOP! And that first splash was NOT followed by 2 more plops. NOOOOO!! NOOO, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND RIGHT, PLEASE TELL ME THAT DID NOT JUST HAPPEN!!!!!   So, it was NOT ME who was forced to use a slotted shovel in my own bathtub, while suppressing the gags that were forming in my throat to fish some rather disgusting inhabitants out of my bathtub. And it was NOT ME who emptied the better part of 3 bottles of cleaning solution into my bathtub, and gave my littlest son some disappointed looks for most of the morning.

the culprit, in happier tub times

Now that I have you back with me, I'll stick to subject matter that isn't quite so stomach-turning.

I have a theory- more like a deep-rooted belief, really- about what I call the 'Starbucks mentality.' It goes like this... the lovely coffee chain that is Starbucks has created in Americans an overly-customized utopia that allows us  to pick and choose nearly every ingredient and practically demand that each and every one of our 'wants' be met and catered to, and served with a smile. And I am not referring to just ordering a coffee......I am talking about people who have been celebrated and told that they're individuals and demand to be treated individually, thus equating to them expecting each and every want, each and every expectation, to be met. Drives me nuts. I'm more of a 'you get what get and you don't pitch a fit' kinda girl. I shake my head in relative disgust when I hear people making their demands and assuming that everyone else just caters to each persons individual cravings....while muttering 'dang Starbucks mentality.' Those closest to me know my feelings on this.  It's just who I am. I'm also pretty strong in my convictions. All that being said......it was NOT ME who pulled into the Starbucks drive-thru and asked 'Could I please get a tall, half-caf, white chocolate mocha, non-fat, no-whip. Oh, and could I please get that iced? Wait, no, hot is good. ' NO WAY!!!! And if I had really done such a thing, I would have NOT have shaken my head in disgust, grunted 'Dang Starbucks mentality GOT ME- it got MEEEE!!!', and blamed the whole thing on my unborn baby girl, Evie, as I pulled around to retrieve my drink. 

Oh, and when I got up to the window to pay, I did NOT ask the lady if it would be too late to add to my order, to include a croissant, a cinnamon swirl coffee cake, and an artisan breakfast sandwich. **In my defense, the croissant was for Jack :)


We had beautiful weather over spring break, and tried to spend a good portion of every day outside, riding bikes, at the park, playing in the sprinklers and in the splash pool. On day 3, though, our splash pool needed a little kick, a little oomph. But I want yall to know it was NOT my husband who came up with the idea of a redneck water slide.......

Every time we go to Publix, Tyler and Kaiti love to jump on the scale in the front of the store. And pretty much every time they say, 'Mommy, you should get on too, and see how much YOU weigh.' Typically, I pretend like they're not my children and just keep pushing my cart past them. Well, on a day last week, as they are hopping off the scale, they asked me to get on, and I did my usual- kept walking. My precious daughter did NOT yell across the entrance to the store, 'Mommy are you worried you're gonna break it and that's why you don't wanna get weighed?' NICE!!!!!

This weekend, I went on my first showing appointments without my boss at my side. I was pretty nervous in the beginning, but on my 4th house with the young couple who was looking to buy, I really felt at ease and my confidence level was pretty high. As we were walking around, I was pointing out some of the features, and said, 'And the pattern on this TILE floor is lovely.' The young husband cleared his throat, tapped his toe on the floor, and did NOT say, 'Uhhhh, this is actually VINYL.' I DIDN'T blush and say, 'Oh you're right......what a lovely pattern on the vinyl....' So much for feeling at ease and confident, right?

At the t-ball game we had on Saturday, I was talking to my friend Michelle, while (of course) keeping a very watchful eye on Jack playing at my feet, and Kaiti playing by the bleachers. I was constantly glancing back and forth between Tyler on the field, Kaiti and Jack in the grass, and Michelle at my side, and not missing a beat. I am always aware of what my children are doing. Always! I glanced over at Jack, who was sitting on the ground next to a trash can, and saw him putting something in his mouth. As I ran to him, I DID NOT see him licking the remnants of a ring pop (a ring pop that did not belong to us), happy as a clam as he sopped up germs, dirt, and bacteria I don't even want to think about. Awesome.

And it wouldn't be a not me! post without mentioning the fact that I am NEVER EVER late. NEVER EVER. EVER. So this morning, the first Monday after spring break, I did NOT hustle Tyler into the car 10 minutes behind schedule, high-tail it to school, and pull into the parking lot at 8:27. Schools starts promptly at 8:25. Kaiti, playing peacemaker, says 'Look Tyler, there's not really any people in the loop, so you won't be that late. Isn't that good??' Tyler did NOT huffily respond 'Yeah, there is nobody in the loop Kaiti because their mom's already dropped them off and all the kids are in their classrooms now. But our Mom is really late.' Trying to find something to redeem myself, I looked over and saw a mini-van making its way into the school, turning the corner on 2 wheels, and going Mach 10 into the parking lot. I did NOT point to the minivan and proudly say, 'Look Tyler, we're not as late as them. So grab your backpack, and you won't be the latest kid dropped off today.' 

Come one ladies, now that I've warmed you all up with some good ol' fashioned mama fiction, feel free to share some stories with me. Share-- it'll make those other mother's feel so much better about themselves. At least, that's what I'm told!