The MOTHER of all Races

Anthony took us camping last weekend. It was really fun. We had smores and ...did ....camping ... stuff. Basically Anthony and the boys satisfied their caveman instincts by surrounding themselves in the great outdoors and making fire. *grunt grunt...YEAH. FIRE.

I was with the boys at the bottom of a short hill when they both claimed that they were WAY faster than me and could beat me up the hill. Having been quite the runner in my hayday, I could not let them taunt me with their youthful energy and gently told them that while I was sure they were indeed very fast, that they could not beat me. Not being able to verbally come to an agreement, we decided to put all of this nonsense to a rest and just race. We lined up, all confident that we would beat one another.

Isaac, "On your marks, get set........

........

......

SNOW!!!!!"

Matthew and I stumble to a stop and get back to the start.

Isaac, "On your marks, get set....


.....

Me, "Isaac, come ON."

......

GO!!!

We took off. Matthew is clearly not competition, but Isaac is a few feet in front of me. I am bouncing Isabelle along with me, who is adorably giggling while we run. I was running over holes, sticks, huge rocks. I gained ground. I barely catch up to Isaac as we come to a stop. Too close to call. I quickly remind Isaac that I am carrying an extra 20 pound sack.

I hear footsteps. Oh... yeah... Matthew. I look over to him, still crazed by my competitive sprint to the top of the hill....oh no. I am the worst mommy in the world.

Here comes Matthew with puppy dog eyes. So defeated, so sad. He couldn't believe that I had left him in the dust like that. I was quickly brought back to the reality of motherhood and reminded myself that I am supposed to let them win. WHAT kind of mom is so immature that she does not put her child's needs in front of her own? Crazy competitive mom, that's what kind. And that's apparently me.


*Matthew won the next race.

The Trolls are gonna Get You to the tune of Michael Jackson's Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'

I have little life rules that, if violated, creates a physical reaction in my body. For instance, if someone's eyebrows are a little 'fuzzy' or out of place, I have to smooth mine out. If my eyebrows are rubbed against the grain, I have to smooth them out precisely 10 times until my brain is satisfied with the smoothness. In fact, I just had to smooth my eyebrows out now just because I over thought this... If I cannot fix the fuzzy eyebrow, I cannot and will not focus on anything but eyebrow hairs gone wild until they have been properly groomed. I may pretend that I am ignoring it, but it is all I think, see, taste, smell, and feel (it disturbs all of my senses) until it is smooth and perfect again.

I have way too many of these types of issues to discuss... weird little things. However, one of my greatest weaknesses is grates. YES. Grates. The usually metal, sometimes heavy duty plastic shields used to cover a large hole in the ground. They completely freak me out. I will NOT walk on them. Ever. If you see me on the street and decide it would be funny to push me onto one, beware because I will risk my life and yours (and any old ladies or babies in the way) to avoid the grate.

DON'T DO THIS

I warned you

I like to imagine that there are living troll dolls under the grates. They are super ugly and have really colorful hair and love Michael Jackson. Sometimes they all huddle together and work out the choreography to 'Thriller' to entertain the 'butterflies' (see I hate Wall-e) and rats. This was harder when they suffered from the medical condition of sirenomelia (mermaid syndrome) and their arms were stuck to the sides of their bodies, but ever since they discovered that plastic surgeon they are free to move and have incredibly perky boobs. After they get knee implants they will be able to add the moonwalk, ballet, and hip hop to their routines as well.

They argued over who got to be in front for the Thriller performance

Added 'Perk' of having plastic surgery

Anthony decided to show me how 'ridiculous' I was by acting exaggerative and dramatically stepping on one of those water meter grates in the sidewalk. He was all like, "LOOK AT ME! I'M STEPPING ON A GRATE, CANDICE!! HAHAHAHA" I decided to ignore him and not look until I heard, "oh shoot...^^nervous laughter^^...um.." I looked over and the grate cover had collapsed into the hole and his foot was STUCK in the hole. *When the grate was uncovered I could faintly hear MJ's 'Bad' in the background. Anthony undoubtedly almost lost his foot that day. Good thing I was there to gloat..oh.. and pull him out.

Amputation of foot imminent

Who's ridiculous now, Anthony? Who's ridiculous now?

Joys of Motherhood: Smells

Welcome to a whole new segment of my blog: the Joys of Motherhood. I am a mother of three, absolutely wonderful and adorable kids-Isaac (9), Matthew (6), and Isabelle(1). They all have beautiful personalities and my love for them is indescribable. Now that I've cleared that up...on to today's topic: Smells.

I remember the times where my brother and I probably left some stenches in the house-for instance when we microwaved gummi bears in to a massive melt of gummies which became so stuck to the bowl that we threw it and the spoon away. (sorry, mom) Love us still? :D There was also the time where my brother lit a firework in his bedroom..or the time he played in tar and brought that home with him. However, nothing quite prepared me for the smells that would fill my house.

When pregnant with your first child, people tell you horror stories of smelly diapers, poop-up-the-back diapers, spit up, and child vomit. The truth is that those types of offenses are just the tip of the iceberg.

Isaac paints the Living Room
Isaac had just turned one and was playing in the living room while I cooked dinner. Surely my dinner doesn't smell that bad, I thought. Oh, wait. Isaac must have had a poop-yyy!! I went to retrieve Isaac to change his diaper when I discovered that Isaac decided to take matters into his own hands. Literally. He had figured out how to take his diaper off and decided that well, there was too much white in the house. Paint the white couch BROWN!!! Paint the white walls BROWN!!! Paint hot wheels BROWN!!!! Paint the brown floor....okay...recolor it different shade of BROWN!!!! And in case it wasn't clear, I am not talking actual paint here. Though the smell at the time could have peeled paint.This was actually kind of impressive as I was only in the kitchen for five minutes.

Time for a New Car, Honey!!
I was called in to the daycare from work to pick up my sweet, sick Isaac. He had a fever and needed to be quarantined from the kids who most likely made him sick to begin with. Isaac was gracious enough to give a full one seconds notice that his tummy felt sick before he barfed all over my car. The car (my original beetle) was sold about a month later. WHAT?! I needed a more practical, family-oriented car anyway!! Never mind that I got another bug a few years later...

I just moved into this house in July. Here is a recent history of the passing smells I have the pleasure of inhaling:

Od' de Frog Gie
A few weeks ago the boys explored a nearby pond and found an abundance of tadpoles and newly transformed frogs. They were oh-so-cute that we took some home with us in an empty water bottle we were carrying. Isaac did not want these frogs to suffocate, so he left the lid off of the bottle. I was in Isaac's room with Anthony and Isabelle and suddenly smelled death. I looked at Anthony in disgust, I honestly thought something died inside him. I never thought I would ever say this, but oh how I wish that it could have been a foul gassy emission. At least the poop particles from a fart dissipate. Isabelle tried to release these poor froggies and had spilled the bottle all over the carpet next to Isaac's bed. It was sad seeing the frogs laying on the carpet as if in some sort of horrible battlefield scene.

Od' de Perfume
Yes, perfume. Yesterday Isabelle found my bottle of perfume and I noticed that she was carrying it around, but didn't really think twice about it. *dumb move* She dropped the bottle of perfume and came over to me. I hadn't heard the impact of the bottle hitting the floor but smelled it immediately. I wasn't sure what happened, I thought maybe she had sprayed herself but the strong was way too strong for that. The bottle had broken open and there was a huge puddle of perfume in the middle of the living room.  So if you are paying attention, my house smells like death and perfume, so basically like an old folks' home. On a positive note, my floor sure does shine!

P.S. I know I haven't gone back to my car stories. I will get there....I'm just bored with it at the moment....

I hate Wall-e

Please stop putting cockroaches in my movies. Wall-e was intolerable and I will never eat a twinkie again. I have to close my eyes tightly during that scene in Enchanted...I will NEVER watch Joe's Apartment based on what I have been told. They are not cute or funny. In fact, there is nothing remotely appealing about a cockroach. It makes my fingers feel filthy merely typing out the word.

You know what? I just tried to research this vile bug for you and couldn't even sit and read about them. I started feeling creepy crawly and actually ran away from my computer screen when confronted with a disgusting picture of this creature. I don't know if I can even finish this post.

Hoping cockroach picture will magically disappear from my laptop

(*three days later...not kidding) I just found out that the name of my fear is Katsaridaphobia.

UPDATE because Anthony said this post was boring and needed more stories.


In order for me to produce a complete post, any references to the above mentioned bugs will be under the alias 'butterfly'. So when you read 'butterfly' you know what I mean....AND DON'T EXPECT PICTURES, I CAN'T DO IT.

Shower Curtain
When I first moved into this house I was putting a second shower curtain up in the boys' bathroom. I saw a butterfly scurry up the curtain. It was by far, the LARGEST butterfly I had ever seen in my life. I flipped out and ran out of the bathroom screaming.

"BUTTERFLY!! BUTTERFLY!!! THERE'S A DINOSAUR SIZED BUTTERFLY IN THE FREAKING BATHROOM!!!!!"

Anthony, "Calm down, calm down, sheesh. Where is it?"

Me, "On the curtain!!!! Oh, I'm going to be sick!!!"

Anthony, "There's NO BUTTERFLY, Candice. Nothing. Calm down. (seriously annoyed)"

Me, "LOOK AGAIN, YES THERE IS!!! I SAW IT!!"

Anthony, "There's NO.....holy crap! *slams door shut* What the...? *whack, whack* Son of a....*bang bang* HOW in the ...." *whack whack*

Me, "NO butterfly, eh?" *snicker*

...5 minutes later.....

Anthony comes out in shock, eyes wide. He vaguely resembled a man who had just seen their grandmother naked. I'm surprised he didn't curl up in a ball shaking.  All I know is that I was very smug about the whole ordeal.

Horror film material
The next story I am about to tell you is 100% true. It is by no means an exaggeration. I can't even begin to tell you how amazingly disgusting this is. But it is absolutely true.

I used to work in an old Army barracks building. I hated working there because not a day would go by that I didn't have to see some stupid butterfly in the hallways of the building. That is not the bad part.

One day, I walked into the bathroom and *very regretfully* looked over to my right because I say something moving. It was not just something, it was about 1,000 somethings. Or more. The ceiling tiles were rotting horribly and there were literally hundreds of butterflies falling out of the ceiling. They covered the shower floor to the point where at certain parts of the shower floor they were in piles halfway to my knees. Most were dead, but many were alive.

I left the bathroom screaming. This caused everyone in their offices to come out. I explained what I saw and *knowing my fear of butterflies they blew me off and walked in to inspect this claim and found that there was no describing this situation. The commander had a few soldiers come in with those large 20 gallon large trashcans...

It took 4 or 5 of those trashcans (full) to clean the mess up.

I never stepped foot into that bathroom again.

Okay, this wasn't a funny post, sorry to disappoint....I am thoroughly disgusted now. *sigh

UPDATE TO THE UPDATE:
I had to go through and delete my cookies on my computer so that no 'butterfly' searches would somehow be on the computer anymore.

What really happened in the Garden of Eden

Eve

The Bible tells us all about how God instructed Adam and Eve that all was theirs in the Garden with the exception of the forbidden fruit. Satan came in the form of a snake to tempt Eve with this fruit, she ate it and we were all doomed to be sinners from that day forward.

Now, I am not debating these facts, but I think I might have some insight into Eve's mind. I think she and I had something more in common other than gender or that we both look good in green. ADHD.

Let's think about this...what if, maybe, Eve never heard God's instructions? Eve could have been focusing on the fact that Adam had nipples and she was pondering what good his nipples did him as he was a male creature and male creatures don't lactate. I know that would have distracted me from even the most important speech. Just the other day my boss came over and talked to me for about 10 minutes and all I heard was him saying at the end "that's really important, okay? Can you do that for me?" That was an 'oh, crap' moment.

So maybe Eve was with God when he said, it's all yours and then she caught a glimpse of nipplage (because they were unclothed) and she was distracted when God said except....then refocused where He was reiterating how much He loved them and to enjoy themselves. Then when Satan came along and was all trying to tempt her, she didn't understand why he was talking all slowly and like he was trying to be manipulative, because what's the big deal? God said it was all ours! I would totally understand that and forgive Eve for that distraction-I mean, really, what are male's nipples for anyway? Symmetry?

Really, it all kind of makes sense now. Eve wasn't disobedient! ADHD is inherited, and besides, we were created in His image. God could have created the useless male nipple in a moment of total distraction. Saturn is a beautiful planet, after all. So, God, can we have our innocence back? j/k. Forgive me. No, really. Please?

I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up

It's pretty normal for a child to change her mind several times when deciding on what she wants to be when she grows up. I'm special. I'm not sure I'll ever really figure out the answer to that question. I have compiled a short list of a few of the jobs I have wanted to have as a grown up.

If I want to get all psychoanalytical on myself, I'd say most of my choice professions share a few attributes in common: exclusivity, years of required schooling (I love school), and really cute outfits. The following is by no means an all inclusive list.

Palaeontologist
My interest in digging up and researching dinosaur bones came early in life. I loved dinosaurs and I loved digging. What would be a better job than to combine those two things?

Archaeologist
This stemmed from my interest in palaeontology. I soon became interested in much more than just bones. Jewels, gold, hairs of people from the past, and they would be ALL MINE...

Children's Author
I have a really twisted sense of humor...maybe too twisted for the kids...I once wrote a book about the toothfairy called, "The Unauthorized Biography of the Toothfairy". It was basically a story of how the toothfairy came to be....which included her losing her teeth in a war. This is not quite the reaction one would desire from telling a story to a child:

Concert Violinist
I actually did play for a local symphony for a season. I found that I can't really enjoy playing with the symphony. I found it hard to focus because I could not even hear myself. How was I going to become famous if no one could hear me?! Then, as if my inner diva isn't insulted enough, it is customary to dress in black. BLACK. I was trapped in a sea of boringly-dressed emo clones. 

Not even my mom could find me.

Doctor
I really want to be a surgeon. I love meticulous work, so I think I would really excel at brain or heart surgery. I would also be a good surgeon because I have superpower hyperfocusability. (thanks Mom!)  If I am in a hyperfocus I won't even see a T-Rex tap dancing in front of me in a top hat eating ice cream with sparkly ... well...maybe I might notice the sparkles....I do like sparkles...Okay, so there would be a 'no sparkly' rule in my O.R. I could do that, because I would be a doctor.

Added Bonus: Doctors have the ability to shout out that they need something STAT.

That guy needs arms STAT

Cowgirl
I'm not sure why, but I think always thought it would be super cool to walk around like this:

I think part of my problem is that I like school so much. When I am away from school, I find excuses to go back to school. I think this is going to be me in 30 years....

Lifetime Learner. Lost legs in Archaeological dig.

The Blue Beast makes a Left turn

I am a hypercompetitive person, so when I was introduced to the 'new girl', I already didn't like her. I was the previous new girl, and besides, she just moved from another city in the state, I moved from New Jersey. When I found out she played the violin like I did, my disdain for her grew. But, she was too good, as she put it, to play in the school orchestra or any of the youth orchestras. This made me believe that she was in fact probably not that good and she was no longer my competition. For all I know, she could have been the next Itzhak Perlman, but I was okay with not ever finding out. I put aside my competitiveness and got to know this new new girl and decided I still didn't like her. She was Miss Negativity and was always frowning and angry at something. One day, she approached me at my locker and requested a ride home.

When I earned my driver's license my parents specified that I was not to drive with any of my friends in the car without their permission. I quickly rattled off this rule to her, thankful for it at this point because I didn't want to listen to her complain on the way to her house. She was relentless, telling me that if I didn't drive her home that she might get hit by a car because it's a dangerous walk, and besides, her house is only two miles away. I have always (and still do) have a problem telling people 'no' so I went ahead and told her I would do it. I brought along the foreign exchange student we had staying at our house that year.

Blue Beast's last unblemished moment

"Turn left HERE," new new girl said.

I approached a green light and slowed down to make a left turn. I saw a little yellow car approaching, but it was off in the distance a bit. I continued with my turn.

In case of impending accident, ignore all others in the car

New new girl completely FREAKED out. She was screaming at me to stop. I was so confused that I stopped. I stopped just in time for yellow car to hit the poor Blue Beast right on the passenger door. In retrospect, I think this may have been God asking her to shut up.

Yellow car driver was angry

Not only did the blue beast suffer horrible cosmetic damage to the passenger door, it could no longer use its passenger door. On prom night, (I drove) my date had to crawl across the front seat in his tuxedo to exit the beast.

I learned two valuable lessons that day: ignore stupid people because God will shut them up and obey your parents.



Next to the driving horribly series:  Fender Benders and escaping Mac Trucks!