Not Me Monday

First let me say that I am a very practical person. I don't have time for silly games and endless hours playing video gaming systems. Heck, I don't even watch TV.

That being said...

My husband would have not bought me a new Wii game for my birthday.

Gaming is for kids and although I am very, very young...I am not a child.

I would never forsake my craft time at night to spend hour after hour after hour after hour assisting Mario in his endless quest to save Princess Peach from evil Bowser's clutches.

I also realize that my son, Timothy, is a gaming expert. His hand/eye coordination is legendary around these parts and could beat the game with one hand tied behind his back, his legs duck taped together, standing on his head, with a pirate's eye patch on, while playing a harmonica.

So he, obviously ,would be the one playing the game.

Not me.

I, however, stink at video games. Because I have to play each level several hundred times a bunch of times to beat it, I wouldn't waste my time trying.

Upon finding myself totally stuck at 2am, and unwilling to turn off the game and forsake all my precious, newly collected star bits, I would never, ever, go and wake up Timothy and demand ask him to come and finish the level.

I am not that kind of mom.

I know that my teenage son needs lots of sleep at night and waking him up to do such a frivolous chore you would too if you had that many extra men saved up is not something I would do.

I would not joke that he was not allowed to go back to bed until Mario obtained the last gold star.

I also would not let go with an evil laugh when he begged asked to go back to bed. I wouldn't stoop so low as to threaten suggest that he would not be allowed off the couch, even to use the bathroom, until he was done.

Because that would mean that I am obsessed.

And I'm not.

Seriously?

Do you even know anyone that would act like that?

Me neither.

Ahem...

P.S. It was not a school night. Just sayin...

Not Me Monday

First let me say that I am a frugal gal and easily resist the urge to purchase frivolous shoes. After all, practical people do not make impulsive purchases and practical is my middle name.

Therefore it was not me that spied a the most amazing pair EVER! pair of boots on-line.

The gold and black tiger striped, buckle adorned, stiletto heeled creations did not speak to me. I do not hear voices ok, just in my head and especially not coming from a pair of boots.

So, it was not me that had a "had to have them" moment. I have a very strong willpower muscle and do not fall prey to the offerings of the shoe god.

So when the UPS man showed up with my boots have I ever told you how much I love the UPS man? I did not squeal and embarrass myself.

I am classy, and squealing does not equal classy.

Because I always think things through thoroughly before making a decision, I would have realized that gold and black tiger print boots, although super cool, would be more suited for a hooker than a soccer mom.

I wouldn't have been the one left stumped as how to best utilize my boots without looking like a prostitute.

So, when a woman showed up at the Halloween party dressed up like a very stylish witch, wearing the most beautiful boots ever? Well, that most certainly wouldn't have been me...

Ahem...

Not Me Monday

Let me just start by pointing out how classy we are with the understanding that if I have to point it out, it might not be obvious and therefore might not be true.

We always finish projects that we start and never, ever leave things half finished.

Therefore it was not us that remodeled our house two years ago and then never put siding on. Haven't you ever heard that Tyvek is the new siding?

That would make us look like white trash and we would not do that to the neighbors.

Our kids wouldn't have other kids asking them at school "When are you going to finish your house?"

We wouldn't tell them that we are just planning on painting the Tyvek...just for fun. And because we enjoy seeing the confused look on their faces.

We most certainly would not joke about our white trash look by saying that we just really enjoy our membership in the white trash club and would miss their monthly publication The Butt Crack.

We are classy and classy people do not joke around like that.

As a result of siding not being on our house since the beginning of time a large hive of aggressive, mean yellow jackets would not have moved in.

We would not have heard them up in the ceiling of one of the spare bedrooms and wondered what was going on.

I definitely wouldn't have gone out on the roof to investigate because I am very smart and would not have messed with anything that had to do with bugs.

Getting stung multiple times through several layers of clothing would have been "what you get" when sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. This would have never happened to me.

We are avid "do it yourselfers" is that even a word? and would have never folded like a lawn chair bowed to pressure and called a professional. We are stubborn resourceful and do not need any help...ever.

Therefore, when the "bug guy" showed up, it would not have been because Corey had called him.

He would not have discovered the largest nest of yellow jackets "that he has ever seen".

He would not have had to cut a hole in the side of the house to remove them.

He would not have noticed that they had eaten away the sheet rock in the ceiling.

We would have not discovered that the only thing between us and thousands of angry, aggressive yellow jackets entering our house was a layer of paint. Gulp.

Yes, I am having nightmares now.

And, because we are so classy, we wouldn't have jumped all over a friend's suggestion that we capitalize on our new hole in the house and use it as a Halloween decoration.

We are working on getting siding...I promise...

Ahem...

And Happy Halloween!

Not Me Monday

Losing a tooth is a super big deal to a five year old and would have certainly been a big deal to me too.

Therefore, I would have never spaced playing the role of tooth fairy.

This tooth fairy playing mama would have remembered to bring home a dollar bill, been totally pumped to sneak in her son's bedroom, and would have gleefully exchanged his tooth for money.

Her toddler's open wallet, laid out on the dresser by an excited young boy, eagerly awaiting the deposit of tooth fairy money would have been a major reminder.

Therefore, it was not me, that completely and utterly forgot.

It was not my 11 year old son who has apparently lost all confidence in his mother checked to see if the tooth fairy had remembered.

It was not his dollar, from his own wallet, that replaced his younger brother's tooth, which resulted in a very ecstatic five year old boy.

I wouldn't be the one left feeling conflicted. Proud of her 11 year old son for being such a thoughtful son but embarrassed and left feeling like a smuck for forgetting again.

Someone anyone help me find my brain...

ahem...

Not Me Monday

Sigh...Monday again why does that happen every week, I ask you?

I just feel the need to point out what a perfect mother I am. I care deeply about my family's nutritional intake and ponder deeply on a daily basis what wholesome, organic, from-scratch meals I can serve them.

I don't go on shop-a-thons, spend almost $1000 dollars on groceries with a crazy plan to mass cook meals.

I don't come home, have my slave labor kids pile it ALL onto the counter and then wish I didn't have to cook all.that.food.

I would never feel pressured to follow through with my highly stupid intense meal preparation plan and assemble 125+ meals for the freezer.

Part of the preparation plan would definitely not include staying up two different nights all freakin night for massive, interrupted cook-a-thons. I would not be that insane or desperate to avoid cooking long term.

Because I plan ahead like a seriously deranged individual with OCD I would have realized that there was not enough freezer space in our four freezers.

I certainly wouldn't have threatened my husband and demanded that he had better not come home at all unless he had another freezer with him. I definitely wouldn't take out my lack of planning on him although it did make me feel better.

ahem...

Nothing scares this superchick. Not.one.thing. It's actually a whole lot of things with bugs being up at the top of the list.

When reaching out the french doors for a plug in no stairs, by the way. Just a sharp drop to the wild outdoors I certainly wouldn't have stuck my hand in a spiderweb. Out of the corner of my eye, the sight of a leaf moving that was stuck in the web wouldn't have caused me to have a panic attack. I.fear.nothing.

You wouldn't have found me screaming, loosing my balance and doing a face plant on the dirty dirt either. I have more style that a cat and always land on my feet.

When my little piggy toe the one that goes wee-wee-wee all the way home felt like it had been self-amputated, I would have immediately checked. The first thought on my mind wouldn't have been the status of my fingernails. I am not shallow like that.

And since we are on the unfortunate topic of bugs, I would like to point out that I have no fear when opening my locked mailbox.

I don't care if little buggy-looking bugs have the misplaced assumption that underneath the handle is a prime piece of real estate. I fear them not.

So, when an alarmed bug flew out from under the handle I most certainly wouldn't have screamed. loud enough to alert the neighbors

And I most certainly would have never, ever ripped my hand back from the handle with enough force to accidentally fling my keys all the way across the road.

Thank goodness no one was looking...

Or that they took pity on "not me" and didn't laugh loud enough for me to hear.

Sigh...

Not Me Monday!

Let me start by saying that I never struggle in my role of Mommy. I do not ever get in a funk. Funk is what hippies smell like, not a mood that I get in to. I am able to power through my bad moods, like Aunt Berta in a motorized shopping cart at the store.

So....

It was not me who had a black rain cloud hanging over her head all week. I do not have any moods other then perfect.

It was not me that was caught listening to Christmas music in July in order to lift her spirits. Randy Travis crooning "Old Time Christmas" is not something I need in the summer in order to feel happy.

ahem...

And, although I enjoy Halloween, I realize that there is a limit to the number of decorations that can be displayed tastefully in my yard. I also only think about Halloween during that time of the year and am not one of those crazy people that obsesses about it year round.

So....

It was not me that planted her bum sat in the middle of the yard, soaking up the sunshine, notebook in hand. I would not be so very obsessed about Halloween that I would, in the middle of summer, plan out where all my decorations will be displayed. That would be immensely sad. And sad, I am not.

Only 2 1/2 more months till I can start decorating!!!

ahem...

I also need to point out that I never get tired of being around my kids and their constant noise doesn't bug me. I am, obviously, supermom.

So...

It was not me that found her nerves shot from listening to all the kids and their chit chat all day long...day after day...week after week...month after month...

ahem...

So, I certainly wouldn't have been the one to tell her teenage son to "Squeeze the chat box." I do not find joy in discovering new and delightful ways to tell my kids to be quiet.

Surefire way to cure a funk?

Buying new shoes, of course.

Which is exactly what "Not Me" did.

The end.

Not Me Monday

It's Monday again and time for another round of confession Not Me Monday!

First let me tell you that I really am Wonderwoman. I fear nothing except sharks, snakes, bugs, dogs and really ugly shoes, am super strong and have cool little bracelets that deflect bullets. And don't even get me started on those amazing red boots...

So...

When out walking with my husband, it was not me that froze in fear when hearing a dog coming. Having a dog chase me when I was 8 years old would not scar me for life because that would show weakness and I am not weak.

I did not utter a naughty word and jump behind my husband, pinching his skin as I frantically grabbed his shirt to more effectively hold my human shield in place.

Because I am uber brave, it was not me that peeked out from behind my husband to watch the dog waddle run over to us.

I certainly wouldn't have felt the least bit embarrassed to find out that the very old, very fat dog was just nicely checking to see if we had something for him to eat. I certainly can tell the difference between an attack dog and an old grey muzzled fat one.

ahem...

I am a wonderful driver. I scoff at the obvious low IQ that other drivers flaunt on a daily basis. I got 100% on my drivers test and drive with perfection everyday.

So...

It was not me that failed to notice that the garage door was not fully up before putting the van into reverse. My hearing is very good although I do have mom hearing that tunes out annoying child noises in order to preserve what is left of my sanity and I would have heard that the door was still on it's upward climb.

Because I pay the utmost attention to what I am doing while driving I would have immediately stepped on the brakes. I would not have backed the van up into the garage door.

Upon hearing the collision of van vs. garage door I would not have wondered what the heck was going on. Theories of possible reasons for the crash that did not include me at fault would not have quickly ran through my head either.

Upon arriving home, it was not me that didn't pull the great white beast van far enough into the driveway before closing the electric gate. Just because my van is 100 feet long does not excuse me from knowing where the back of it is.

It would not have been my eyes that widened in shock upon hearing the gate spank crash into the back of the van. I certainly pay better attention that that.

When the kids asked "what was that" I also wouldn't have I lied...I lied, it was a big fat lie told a small fib and said "What are you talking about? I didn't hear anything."

And in the spirit of "Not Me Monday" it's going to be "not you" that better not tell my "not husband" about the van incident(s).

Because, if you do, like Hannah says...yes, zip it, I know I'm copying a three year old here

"You're not my buddy anymore!"

ahem...

Not Me Monday

Are you sure it's Monday...again???

Let me start by saying that I am a perfect mother. I am hyper-vigilant and know where my children are at all times. I not only have eyes in the back of my head but also on the sides. My spidey sense is so totally evolved that I know immediately when one of my kids is doing something that they shouldn't be.

That being said...

It was not me that did not do a head count before rushing off to the store. I was not the one unaware that not all my kids were present and accounted for before telling my twins "good luck" "I'll be right back."

I did not drive to the store and then go in to get groceries while talking to myself...out loud unaware that I had a stowaway in the van.

Upon returning to the van with my groceries it was not me who didn't immediately notice anything amiss.

Because I am ultra aware and smart, it was not me that couldn't figure out why someone had been into her container of cookie dough...don't judge me snack. Theories of aliens, cookie dough snatchers, and shape shifters did not run through my head before realizing that I had a hitchhiker.

It was most certainly not my 5 year old son that I discovered, with cookie dough breath curled up under the seats. My kids are always in car seats and most definitely not able to sneak in my van, unnoticed.

Ahem...

Because I always know what my kids are doing, at all times, it was not me that failed to notice that her 3 year old had located a pair of scissors.

It did not escape my notice that my 3 year was giving himself a haircut (note to 3 year old boy-hairdresser not a good career choice). Also, when he was finished if you can call it that it was not his 3 year old sister's hair that he turned the scissors on. Thankfully, someone?...anyone? a sibling was paying attention and stopped before any real damage was done.

Sigh...

Because I am very smart, it was not me that couldn't figure out what was happening to the fake berries on the fake plant by the door.

Because I am of above average intelligence, it wouldn't have taken seeing one stuck up the nose of a certain 3 year old boy before the light bulb finally went on. is anything safe from this kid? I am definitely more "with it" than that.

Now I realize that I might definitely not be painting "not me" in a very positive light.

Color me a rocket scientist but I think it's best if I save all the rest of the "not me's" for another Monday.

After all, there should be a limit to the number of dumb things that a person gets to admit to in one week.

Right?

Not Me Monday

Unbelievably it is Monday again and time for another round of "Not Me! Monday"

It was not me that got irritated by her son's teasing regarding her short stature. I wouldn't let stuff like that get to me. Ya know, sticks and stones and all that crap.

So it was not me that quickly shot her short self upstairs to the shoe closet and selected the most hooker-like tallest pair of heels in there.

It was defiantly not my broken toe that screamed, in agony, at the mere sight of the 3"+ brown and white zebra print, Oh Deer heels that had been selected. I would most certainly not traumatize my broken toe just to prove a point.

I did not march my now less vertically challenged self down to my son's school for the track banquet all the while ignoring the white flag that my toe was frantically waving.

I also did not actually feel like hot mama instead of soccer mama until discovering that my hair was pulled back with my daughter's hot pink, flannel, Bobby Jack monkey hair tie, ruining my "oh, I'm so working this look" moment.

Sigh...

Not Me Monday

Ok, here we go. Another round of "Not me!" Monday. Hopefully next week I won't have anything to "not confess".

I was not the one that snuck up behind one of my daycare kids, grab him and scream "BOO!" It was not me that laughed hysterically when he jumped out of his pants, threw both arms in the air which made his matchbox cars fly across the room.

I certainly wouldn't have reduced myself to fits of giggles all week day long when thinking back and remembering how bad I scared him. I also wouldn't be proud of the fact that he will probably need counseling after being in my care.

Since we do not ever except in times of desperation eat in the van than I wouldn't have been the one to feed my kids animal crackers while driving home from soccer practice. Did you see the mom throwing handfuls of animal crackers, over her shoulder, in the general direction of her kids, while driving? Well, that wasn't me.

When one of my teenage sons Joseph rudely suggested to his brother that he had ADHD I did not spout off and tell the offender Joseph that he had ABH. I do not like to label my kids within earshot of anyone else.

When my son Joseph did not know what ABH meant, I did not gleefully inform him that it meant Arrogant Big Headedness. I am most certainly not smart mouth and mean like that.

Whew...in comparison to "Not Me", my week was very uneventful!

Not Me Monday

I just big puffy heart this blog http://www.mycharmingkids.net/ ! Stellan's story of dealing with a heart condition and the world's reaction has been touching and awe inspiring.

McMama does a Not Me Monday post and although I'd laughed at read the posts, I've never participated...but that's about to change. It's about lying admitting that you did something without really accepting responsibility.

I certainly did not attempt to fix the plumbing under the kitchen sink while Corey was gone. I wouldn't do something like that because I am not a plumber. Therefore, I would not have snapped the pipe clean off from wall. Nope, not me!

It was definitely not me that said a naughty word in front of the kids when the pipe came off. I do not do stuff like that. I most certainly did not attempt to convince them that I was only referring to the kind of damn that a beaver builds because I was wishing that one had been built where the water was gushing out of the pipe. Nope, not me!

I did not attempt unsuccessfully the Jedi Mind Trick on the kids to make them forget that a naughty word had been spoken.

It was not me that laughed when Timothy was upset about the joke his brothers played on him. In the event that someone would want to take the grand tour of our house during the party on Sunday, Tim's brothers put "baby books" on his desk and on his bed so people would think that is the kind of books that he read. Laughing would be mean and I would never do that. Not me!

I am defiantly not the kind of person that would greet the UPS man with too much enthusiasm when he delivered my shoes package. So much so that the next day when he delivered another package not a word, not. one. word. he wouldn't even come on the porch. He just looked both ways, slid the box onto the porch and then left without knocking. I would not think about kissing the UPS man for merely bringing me shoes.

I would not run outside, grab the package off the porch and loudly proclaim "Oh baby! Come to mama!" I am certainly more refined than that. I wouldn't open the box, kiss the shoes and say "Oh! Me likey!" either.

No, not me!