It's All an Illusion

I'm not a fashion conscience kinda girl, I'm all jeans and t-shirts. I do occasionally like to dress-up in "grown-up" clothes but I'm happiest in a good fitting pair of jeans. Every once in awhile I wipe my hands on those jeans. Yesterday I wiped my hands on my back side (there must not have been a clean towel in the house) I noticed something was stuck to the seat of my pants. I have kids. I assumed I sat in something.

I went to the bedroom to find out what the offending sticky stuff was and plan how to remove it. Nope, I didn't sit in anything...I had two vertical rips on my butt! One on each side, between the center seam and the pockets. I was pretty bummed, I only have 2 pair of "good" jeans. (My definition of good is they didn't come from the Stuff Mart.)

I don't know when the blue jean blow-out happened and I wasn't really concerned about it except the were my "good" jeans. Until this morning when I realized all the places I'd gone in those jeans. The grocery, the Post-Office, school pick-up and the laundromat. The humiliation doesn't end there, I was wearing Mickey Mouse undies. Yep, that shattered the illusion that I have my act together. Mom was right you should always were clean undies. Just never know who might see them.

Spelling Lesson ( and a little rant)

Sissy: Mom I think I should take Princess, 10 and Little Diva, 5 (the girls Sissy babysits) to the High School talent show.

Me: I don't think you should.

Sissy: Why?!

Me: Because I have things to get done tonight and I 'd have to drive you. (Sissy lost driving privileges...again)

Sissy: You don't have anything to do tonight. You're just going to cook dinner and clean.

Me: (Dumbfounded silence followed by blood boiling.)

Really? Isn't cooking dinner and cleaning up and helping Bean re-organize his Lego display and pick up from Karate party and balancing the credit card statement and updating the checkbook enough?! I have to play taxi? I think this falls under the heading of "you don't work". Yes, she has said that to me too. That was my Friday night.

It's nights like this that make me wonder where I went wrong. My adorable, loving, talented, funny child is well...the center of the universe. I wonder if this is typical or is her thinking I'm her personal servant going a little past "normal"? (Hey Mom? Did you check on... No, I didn't). I love being a Mom, I love my kids, I wouldn't trade my life for anything. I would just like my kids to learn the correct spelling of MOM, right now they spell it M. A. I. D.