It's been a long time since I've blogged. Gosh. Great highlights about my little ones... Cashlin will be starting Kindergarten in the end of August. He is so excited. I'll never forget his Kindergarten interview. He left with a teacher for about 20 minutes. I waited in the library for his return. When the teacher who interviewed him walked him back to me, she told me when they were done, Cashlin had said, "Well, this was easy." What a little smarty pants. I know he's going to enjoy school. I can't believe how much this kid loves to soak up information. Right now he's taking a Jr. Scientist class. They've learned how to make a rocket, examined plants and leaves and looked for fossils. How cute is that? He loves it. Now Ava...well, she's a feisty little crab ass. Sometimes she is the biggest cuddle bug, and other times she is a HUGE terror. She is such a girly girl though. Yay for me! Even though we look completely opposite, I know she got her feminine side from me. She loves wearing tutus, loves the color purple and tells me every morning she dreamed of unicorns, butterflies and rainbows. That's pretty sweet, isn't it? She's been in gymnastics for the last nine months and I'm hoping it's something she'll want to continue for a long time. I love watching her. Now let's see...the most scrumptious one of all...my little Dillon. The last few days he's been taking his first steps. Oh my god, I could cry. I'm in denial. I want him to be a baby forever. FOREVER. I can't let go. Maybe I'll just quit my birth control shot. I love babies! haha He is wonderful and is my favorite out of all three. Can I say that? I can tell he's a little momma's boy, and I love it! Time is just flying by. I can't believe it's the end of July already. Can't believe my first baby will be starting Kindergarten. Can't believe my hubby is turning 40 soon. Can't believe life is so busy. Some days I feel like I'm going to go insane. Like really insane. And other days, I'm the happiest mommy. I feel so at peace. Hmmm, and I still like to end my day with a (giant) glass of wine. Red, please.

This last week, Cashlin has sadly disappointed me. Greatly. I know as moms, we are supposed to wake up and be happy. Each day is a new day. We aren't supposed to stay mad at our kids. Hold grudges. Save that for our hubbies. ha ha But I feel like I've been really mad at him. So mad that I've taken away his favorite toys, haven't allowed him dessert for days, no juice, no candy...no na da. Why?? Because a few days ago, I took Cashlin to an indoor playground. While there he called a cute little girl a fatty. This cute little girl was smart and knew I was his mom and came running to tell me. And boy, was I pissed. Fatty?? Oh my god. Is my kid a bully? He really didn't have all that much to say except she was in the fire truck with him and there wasn't enough room....so he did what any nice kid would do, called her a fatty. Should I be to blame for this because we call Dillon a chubby little fatty. FUCK! Hmm. ... But then a few days ago, he told his big cousin that she was stupider than fuck. FUCK! What is happening to my child????????

The worst mother in history -- that was me today. Oh my god, how can I even admit this?? You know I'm a cleaning freak. Like full on. This evening Cashlin and Ava were playing in the den while I was vacuuming. Ava fell on the ground and just stayed there. I said, "Ava, move for Mommy." But she didn't move. And for some reason, I honestly don't know what happened, my arm stroke went out super far ... and ... well, I vacummed up her -- hair!! Oh my god! It was horrible. Horrible. She was crying. So loud. And it all happened so fast. I slammed my foot into the vacuum trying to turn it off. Of course, I missed the button and had to go for it again. I ran to her yelling, "AVAAAAAAA!!! DON'T MOOOOOOOOVE!!!!!!!" Okay, I've sucked up one of her doggy's leashes before, and all I had to do was pull the doggy and the leash came out. SOOOOO, I kind of thought it would be the same with her hair. Her big chunk of hair on her left side. Oh my god, at least I prayed it would be the same. I was in total panic mode. What the hell would I tell her Daddy?? What would I tell my family?? I just pictured Ava with half her hair chopped off. I pictured me getting out the largest scissors in the world and cutting off a massive chunk of her blonde hair. Holy shit. DAMN!! -- it wasn't the same as the doggy leash. I couldn't just pull her hair loose. It wouldn't just come out. I ran for a knife and took apart my vacuum... the part that turns around and around. Slowly I unraveled her hair losing quite a few strands, I must admit. All while my daughter lay still, crying, staring at me with huge bug eyes...probably thinking I am undoubtedly the worst mother in the world. I feel awful.

Cashlin's had a fascination with boobs lately. I kind of thought this would happen a little later in life, but nope, he's noticed them now and wants to discuss everyone's boobs...mine, Nana's, all his aunty's, Barbie's breasts, Tinkerbell's, Ava's lack of, his big cousin Gina's, Gwen on "Ben 10," all the superhero girls' boobs -- and the most recent, his babysitter's boobs. She will remain nameless. We will call her "S." S has rather large boobs. Okay, they're actually huge. She's been babysitting for us for awhile, and I was shocked he hadn't mentioned them earlier. Today he did. He said, "Mommy, don't get mad..." I love when he starts off a sentence like that. ha ha ..."but I don't want to get close to S's boobs because she has a lot of milk in them and they might squirt me." Holy shit. I laughed and laughed. Do you think I need to explain the whole boobs and milk thing?? Maybe if I never tell him, he'll always stay away from boobs. He'll be a boob fearing teenager thinking breasts will squirt squirt squirt him all over the place.

I sat in my car the other day and just laughed at myself. Even little Ava said, "Mommy, what are you doing??" But I couldn't help it. I just laughed and laughed. I've been so excited about registering Cashlin for Kindergarten. It's all I've been thinking about the last few weeks. I'm so overly organized, it's ridiculous. No wonder I'm such a high stress person. I filled all his forms out weeks in advance, took him for his shots, took him to see the dentist -- I was all set! Marked my calendar "REGISTER CASHLIN FOR SCHOOL!!!" in bold, big letters. Registration began at 9am last Wednesday morning. Oh my gosh, I couldn't wait. I even felt nervous. Would there be a big line? I packed snacks for Ava, packed toys for Dillon, dropped Cashlin off at preschool early and took off for his future school. I pictured the parking lot full of cars and crazy Kindergarten-to-be parents. Where would I parked, I wonder??? Okay, typical me...I arrive and it looks like a regular day at his school. There is no huge line up. There are no psycho parents running around. Oh -- except for me. Yes, me. I almost thought that I was there the wrong day, but then I knew that wasn't true. There was no way I was there the wrong day. Not me. I mean, come on, I called the day before just to make sure I had the right day written down on my calendar (even though I had the Kindergarten packet with the date right in front of me). I opened the door and saw the school secretary. I even started to laugh saying, "Is registration for Kindergarten today??" Of course it was. And I was the first person there. What the hell was I expecting?? -- people camping out like for American Idol?? I sat in my car afterwards and laughed at myself. I need to chill out. Most definitely.

When I don't like my children, they are no longer "my" children. All of a sudden, they become just my husband's children. I refer to them as "his" children or "his" child. I will call him at work upset because Cashlin is acting like a little ass and I will say, "Cowboy, you need to beat your son." ha ha Okay, we don't beat our children, but I like pretending. Seriously though, "Cowboy, your son is making me SOOOOOO mad. I'm going insane here! Please come home." That never works. He never comes home. It totally doesn't make him rush home to the rescue. If anything, after hearing what I have to say and after hearing Cashlin screaming and crying in the background, he tells me how busy he is at work and he'll be home later than expected. ha ha I guess I don't blame him.

The stress about Kindergarten. Makes me laugh. My child is only four...barely starting school, and I'm already stressed. I sat at the table with Cashlin filling out his Kindergarten packet. I went through all the questions went him. "Cashlin, can you count to 30? Can you spell your name? Can you write your name? Can you cut shapes?" and on and on the list went. There was one, however, that Cashlin did not know -- his last name. Harrington. Hmmm. Okay, this is a long one, but there was no chance in hell I was marking "NO" on this sheet. My child is a star, obviously. ha ha So the stress began. I wrote HARRINGTON on a piece of paper and taped it on the dinner table where he sits. Every time he sat down, I asked him to spell his last name. After a few days, I began to cover the paper with my hand. Then we worked on writing it out. In a week time, I had Cashlin spelling and writing his last name. It was a success! Am I a freakin' crazy parent? Or is that just the teacher in me? Shit, I better start working on Ava. I fear she is way behind. ha ha "What is that, Ava? What are you saying??? AVA, WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?????"