Why do I bother to pretend that I am a professional working woman? I mean, really?

Incident number 247 happened yesterday further cementing the fact that I can TRY to position myself as a professional but my children will ALWAYS always find a way to out me.

The setup: (5:30pm) House is quiet.  My husband was home from work sick and sleeping upstairs. The two boys had already eaten and were playing with friends outside.  I am on brief conference call discussing an upcoming project with a rather new business connection.

The following ensues:

WHAM! Doorbell, doorbell, doorbell.  BANG, BANG, BANG!

I whip around to see one son has suddenly appeared inside with a friend and is “rather forcefully” shutting the door thereby leaving another little boy out on the porch who is now obsessively ringing the doorbell and banging on the door.

I wave frantically and menacingly at the kids while the gentleman on the line keeps talking. (The gentleman who, by the way, HAS NO CHILDREN OF HIS OWN.)

Both kids in front of me ignore my menacing I’m-on-the-phone-please-stop-embarrassing-me gestures and proceed to loudly whine thing things like this in unison: “Bobby is being mean to us he won’t LEAVE!   We want to play inside but he won’t go away!  Make him stop! It is not my fault if I don’t want to play with him anymore! Blah, blah, blah…” (And other such nonsense.)

This woman looks all calm and professional. Clearly she does not have children.

Bobby, of course, won’t STOP banging on the FREAKING door.  (Manners, dude?!) So, like an idiot, I open the door (while continuing to chat with the gentleman caller as if nothing were going on) to diffuse the situation and little Bobby forces his way into the house and also ignoring my important-call-phone-gestures starts wailing “Miss Jen I want to come insiiiiiddde! I can come inside if I want! It is a free country!” And then all hell breaks loose in which they all start debating the concept of “free country”  against the counter-argument of “it’s MY house.”  Loud back and forth banter continues between kids and I officially loose the “professional woman” facade.

The chuckling client “let’s me go to deal with the issues and we can talk later.”  Brilliant.

OMG those kids are lucky they are still alive because REALLY!!!??? Did that drama have to unfold RIGHT THEN?  Did they NOT SEE the fact that I was on the phone?  Did I not warn them ahead of time?

Sometimes, I don’t know why I bother.

I was going to do this as a Wordless Wednesday post but then I realized it is actually Tuesday and I am mentally a day ahead because I am clearly no longer in full control of my faculties.

So being all original I decided to call it “Tearful Tuesday.”  Alliteration, anyone?

In any event, my Tiny Ninja went to bed in TEARS this evening because he couldn’t find his favorite magazine.  THE magazine.  You know, THE ONLY ONE THAT MATTERS TO KIDS IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD?! Yep, Oriental Trading.

THAT magazine.

Every time he gets one Ninja pours over each page, dazzled by offering after offering of amazing kid stuff delivered to your doorstep IN BULK.  DOZENS of items for $4.99.  Cases of useless stuff for a mere $15.00!!!  THIS MAGAZINE IS LIKE KID CRACK.

And we can’t find his copy anywhere.

He was in a panic, dear friends.  PANIC. But this is one mother who is not only resourceful, she is also CONNECTED!  I called a pal that works at a YMCA and she is saving my butt.  You see there is one thing I know about YMCAs and that is – ORIENTAL TRADING is their lifeblood.

Sweet!  So, Ninja may have gone to bed in tears, but tomorrow afternoon he will be swimming in catalogs of useless junk.  Yay me!

But I am compelled to ask:  Anyone else out there have kids who are addicted to this crazy little magazine?  Is it just my little one?

I had a plan this evening.  I was going to go for a run.  Come hell or high water I was going to hit the treadmill.

But, alas, I didn’t.

I did something so much better -  I took to the pavement with my nine year old.  While my husband and son #1 went to soccer practice, I spent some mommy bonding time with Young Jedi.

You know, it is amazing what you learn about your child while on a good long walk.

For example:

• The following things make Young Jedi truly happy in a giddy “yippie” kind of way – candy, soda, Disney World, sweets, swimming, Selena Gomez and chocolate.  Not necessarily in that order.  Notice the absence of mommy and daddy?  Yeah, so did I. (Little stinker!)
• Rocks are so incredibly cool that one must stop every five minutes and pick them up, examine them and throw them into the woods.  This is a rule.  I don’t know why the rule exists in the universe but I know that it does. I think boys get bonus points for discovering mud underneath them.
• Snot is always present. Always. Especially when you don’t have a tissue handy.  Even  when a young male does not show any outward symptoms of a cold, he will  have snot.  RUNNING DOWN HIS FACE.  (I had previously assumed that this particular occurrence would cease the minute they got out of kindergarten but I concede that that is not the case.)
• Boys are unbelievably fearless and have an uncanny ability to get dirty… but they are also inspiring, curious and sensitive. 
• They will turn ANYTHING into a race.  If they fall down, they will want you.  If they don’t, they will leave you.  If you come across a hill, you must climb it.  TOGETHER.

Who needs a treadmill?

AND SO IT BEGINS…

If you need me on Monday, Wednesday, Friday… OR Saturday, you can find me shuttling kids all around mid-Maryland soccer fields.

Both boys are enrolled in soccer this season.  BOTH BOYS.  And it terrifies me.  Looking over the season schedules, I realize that we have never been here before.

It is a whole new world.  One that will forever invade our happy, little, chaos -free evenings.  One that will require sandwiches and fast food eaten on the run.  One that will take me away from technology and into sports-land.

I know that other families juggle schedules successfully.  I’ve often marveled at them.  I just don’t know if I will be one of them.

I’m not sure I am ready for this.

There is an emerging trend in my household and I am not sure how to feel about it.  Part of me is amused. Part of me is sad. Part of me is frightened to death.

My sons have discovered GIRLS.

A couple of weeks ago I mused about how iCarly had stolen Young Jedi’s heart. At that moment it was funny because he had never had an interest before. In fact, he had repeatedly told me how gross they were.  She wasn’t really a threat.

But the mommy gloves are now off.  Selena Gomez is now in the picture and he is OBSESSED.  Compounded with that is the fact that Tiny Ninja (who is 10) has claimed his long time friend (who shall not be named) is his true love and he is going to marry her.

Both boys are discussing kissing.

And I caught them checking out a naked department store mannequin and giggling obsessively. I’m fairly certain they copped a feel when I wasn’t looking. Oh. My. Lord.

The 10 year old has B.O., the nine year old is kissing pictures of Selena Gomez when he thinks we aren’t looking and both are using the word “hot” to describe females.

WHERE AM I?!!

What happened to those sweet little babies that asked me to marry them and told me I was the prettiest woman in the world?  Where are the little toddlers that curled up in my lap and ran their fingers through my hair?

I’ll tell you where they are – watching Selena Gomez and Miranda Cosgrove shake their thing across the television screen.

So what do I do?  Hang on for dear life or deal with it and let them find their pre-teen groove?

Currently excited about: Momz Share & Seed!