Who Made This Mess?

I am very grateful Christmas is over. But is it really over. Now we deal with the new toys. Toys that need batteries. Toys that make an unseemly amounts of noise (thank you very much Grandma’s). And toys that eat the very quiet baby Jesus from the Playmobile Nativity they got from Mommy.

The hot wheels fiery castle from grandma, complete with dragon that roars and talks to the car wheeling through it about stealing it’s treasure, became a prison for sweet baby Jesus, not twenty four hours after it arrived in our home. I for one would never have thought to put baby Jesus in the fiery castle. But I’m also, and never have been, a six year old boy.

Not only was baby Jesus imprisoned, he was jammed into a small opening meant for the castle gate hinge to fold into when the gate was opened. I didn’t bother asking how or why. Honestly, I didn’t really want to know. But needless to say, I was expected to perform and extraction.

Try as I might (wielding a Nintendo DS pen) to un-wedge baby Jesus. I could spring him from the joint. And I was really reluctant to take a screwdriver to the fiery castle. If I took it apart, I’d have to put it back together. So I did the next best thing, I gave it to Daddy.

Daddy somehow managed to rescue baby Jesus from the dragon’s lair. Only for poor baby Jesus to later be dropped and his head break off. Now I have to acquire some super glue and perform surgery.

Thus, the joy of Christmas will never end. Next gift giving event, I vote the kids get a zoo membership or something of the like, that won’t break, make noise or clutter my floor for me to trip over carrying laundry.

With all this snow, all the kids want to do is play outside. Even though it is freezing. And that means that I have to go outside to. *Grumble Grumble Grumble*

So yesterday I took them out to sled down the hill in our backyard, which is pretty steep. With the oh-so-quick snow board/sled. That sucker seriously moves. And since I decided to try that bad boy out yesterday, I found out just how much so.

After I finally made it to the top of the hill without falling on my ass (thank you very much), I tried to arrange the snow board where I wouldn’t run right into a tree wanted it, but it kept trying to leave without me. I couldn’t keep it still enough to put me feet on it and sled down. After messing with it for a minute, I finally sat on it and went down. And by sat on it, I mean I fell onto it and it took off whether I was ready or not.

As I’m sledding down this hill (which is about thirty feet high I guess, I could measure, but I don’t really want to), I’m screaming the whole way down. And of course, I’m headed straight for a tree. Not just any tree though, a pine tree (or fir, noble,whatever! It looked like a Christmas tree okay?) covered with snow. As I’m screaming, and imagining all the snow that is going to go down. My. Shirt. I decided the best thing to do would be to roll off the thing. That had to be less cold right?

So I roll off the bullet fast death trap, and promptly freeze my ass off as it’s rolling in the snow. Quickly jumping up, I start brusing the snow off my pants in attempt to not freeze anymore of my hind quarters off. I look up to see Miss Chica just about falling over she is laughing so hard. That’s just dandy. Once the kids all get another turn, I decided I’m going to try again. I’m bound to have better results now that I know what to expect right?

Why I do these things to myself, I’m not really sure. The first sled attempt was from halfway up the hill. This time, I marched myself up to the top. At least this time I managed to willingly sit on the sled and purposely take off, not aimed at a tree. Because of the momentum of my body weight and the height at which I started, I not only went all the way down the hill (screaming), I cruised across the whole back yard (still screaming), into an area no one had played in yet. So here I am, butt first in fresh, previously unmarred snow. At least six inches of it.

Now my butt is really, really, really cold. Did I mention really?

At this point, I decided it was time to go in. Everyone was thoroughly covered in snow from their own endeavors with the snow board. And there was hot cocoa to be had all around. Once we got in the house, and the kids out of their cold clothes and into warmer stuff. I went upstairs to get myself into some warmer clothes. Upon taking my cold, cold pants off, I realized that my butt was super, icy cold. It is then, that I get an excellent idea.

Mr. Messy has been telecommuting all day since we can’t get out of our driveway. He’s typing away innocently at the computer, as I run into the office wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and underwear, turn around and stick my bare, cold ass on his arm. To which he gives a little yelp of surprise, and starts commenting on how cold my butt is (which we already knew).

I’m sure every one of you reading this are very appreciative that you don’t live with me and have to tolerate these sorts of antics on a daily basis!

We are currently in the throws of our first winter storm. Sunday evening we received about an inch of snow, and since the temperature was in the teens, it didn’t melt off. The roads were okay, just icy. So school was 90 minutes late on Monday. Tuesday school was on time, even though it was only eighteen degrees. Normally the kids get to play on the playground before school starts, Tuesday I was expecting them to open the gym for the kids to play in, since it was so cold. But no dice. Tuesday night, it started snowing again, not much, but since the weather report was calling for more snow at anytime, they cancelled school. Can you feel the joy on the home front?

Tuesday night we went to Target and bought a sled that looks like a snowboard, and in the freshly dumped three inches of snow of Wednesday morning. Wednesday night, it snowed again. Poor hubby had to stop and put the chains on the car around the corner from the house just to get home from work! And this morning when we woke up, snowing again. We probably have collectively at least five inches of snow. And I’m not really sure it’s done. We’ll see how much we have by the end of the week. Or if the kids even get to go back to school before winter break starts!

I will come out of the closet and say that I love to do different things with my hair. It is currently cut into a cute little bob with violet streaks in it. Very sassy if I do say so myself. When I was younger, like *cough*twenty*cough, I wore it a little longer. And I could do all sorts of updos with it. Which was nice because I worked as a Dental Assistant at the time, and the patients really do appreciate you keeping your long ass hair out of their mouths. Not to mention you don’t get it caught up in the drill when the dentist is filling a cavity. Yummy. Yuck. And ouch!

One of the dental assistants I worked with was a guy nick named Izzy, short for Israel. We got along really well and he was a very funny guy! One of the things he liked to joke about was the different hair styles I came in with. At one point he commented that I was like a Barbie Doll, different hair style for every day. Only instead of Barbie Doll, he called me a Lela Doll.

Definition of a Lela Doll? Brunette, working class with boobs that are in proportion to my body and can not be used as flotation devices or as weapons when I get old and they start tickling my belly button. (My definition, not his! He would have been way to embarrassed to say any of that!)

Today was flippin cold. And it’s not going to get any warmer this week. In fact, we’re expecting more snow Tuesday evening, Wednesday and Thursday. All right before Christmas Break for the rugrats. I love them, but does Mother Nature really need to give me extra days at home with them?

Anyway, I was a bad mom and did not previously check the temperature for today. Not until I got in the car to drive the kids to school. When upon grasping the steering wheel my fingers promptly froze off and fell in my lap. Well needless to say, in my infinite motherly wisdom, none of us had gloves. Insert the “I’m a crappy mom” mentality. After dropping the rugrats off I went directly to Target and bought everyone gloves, and then dropped them off at school so they could have warm fingers on the playground. Motherly guilt relieved.

About two hours later, I’m shopping with my mother-in-law, as we are leaving Osh Kosh another mom is leaving the store. The first thing I notice is that her older child (who is probably five at most) is wearing nothing but a t-shirt and jeans. No coat. Let me say that again. NO COAT. And the baby in her arms (about nine months old)? Again no coat. But it get’s better. The baby was wearing shorts. Oh yeah, middle of freaking December wearing shorts. And here I was worried about MY kids poor little fingers! You get one guess what the high was today.

Thirty degrees.