Dropping The Ball....

July 2011, will officially go down, as the lamest blogging month of Tru Stories history. Not because I didn't have the material but because we have been so bleepin busy, I simply have not had the chance to sit at the computer. I did chronicle our trip to Shelbyville, swim lessons, Cubs game, pool days... but a few other events were slighted their appropriate blog time.
For example:

1. We hard-core crashed the heck out of a stranger's wedding. If you hear the story according to Flag Girl and Coach, Hollywood should make movie from our adventure. In reality, we were in a 'Double Wedding Hall' holding two receptions. ONE we were actually invited too. Mid-reception, we learned the Other Room, housed an ol' fashioned photo booth. And we wanted a piece of that action. It took another hour for Coach and Flag Girl to (liquid courage) talk themselves into the Crash. I led the charge, as we snuck in the very back, sprinted over to the booth, snapped our pics, signed Coach's name (both couples) to the official photo book and darted out, just as quickly.



Once in the hallway, Coach and Flag Girl, high-fived the heck out of each other, congratulating their bada$$ness. They were PUMPED.
And I have committed to finding a photo booth for our next Relay Dance. Because A.) they are fun and
B.) The lighting is surprisingly very flattering!

2.) This July, Coach and I decided we were Cash Money. First, we flaunted our wealth by purchasing a Temperpedic Cloud bed. (Princess and The Pea Coach declared his poor back, just could NOT suffer one more night on a 'regular folks bed').
Next, we bought ('bought' as in, sold our soul to a dealership devil and will actually own said vehicle in maybe 87 payments.) a new van.
I know... I should have blogged out of extreme excitement... except, I sorta Hearted my old white van. It was quickly breaking down around us but it was MINE and I loved it. So I had a little mourning period.



See ya, Ol' Whitey. You were good to me and mine but apparently we are super rich now and can't be drivin around in a rusty clunker. (deep sigh..)

3.) I snapped The Greatest Cannonball extreme action shot, of all times. Just an FYI.



4.) The kids and I attended Bible School. (No... not cuz I needed the religion) I was the Art Coordinator.
Waking up at 7:30am did not mesh well, with this home. We like the night-life, we are NOT early birds.
Day Three:
Both girls had been up and dressed...
and then snuck back into bed.



20 minutes following Day Five...



My girls were tired, grumpy and totally over VBS.
Our summer life is wearing them out.
And I feel their pain.

He needs a Ticket to Ride...

This week, at Bible School, Six was easily my high lite. Each day, he was more amusing than the last.
On Monday, we created Coupon Books. The idea being: each child would create 10 coupons of chores, to give their parents, to be more helpful.
Six immediately complained, if I made him complete this project, and then made him give the book to his parents, then they would make him do chores around the house. He was NOT feeling that.

His coupons read as follows:

Dear Mom,
I Owe You: 30 minutes of TV time, to watch with me.

Dear Dad,
I Owe You: Taking me to the DQ.

Dear Mom,
I Owe You: Cleaning my room (but not perfect).

Dear Dad,
I Owe You: Cleaning my room (but not perfect).

Dear Dad,
I Owe You: My Faithfulness

Dear Mom,
I Owe You: My Gratitude

Dear Mom,
I Owe You: A drawing

As he brought me his book, to tie together, I noticed the last was written incorrectly...

Dear (His own name)
I Owe You: (left Blank)
From: Mom and Dad

Me: Six, the last coupon is wrong.
Six: No, it isn't.
Me: This one is blank and you wrote it to yourself.
Six: I know! I figured if I have to do ALL that stuff for them... they should HAVE to do something for ME!
________________________________________

The next morning, I asked how to book was going.

Six: Fine... I guess. But I told my dad the book expires by the end of today. Well... every coupon but the last.

I laughed and told him, he was getting even more funny. I asked if age ten, would be his 'Funny Year'.

Six: Yeah... I'm pretty sure it's gonna be. I've been feeling like I'm pretty funny lately.



So here is to you... Day Tripper.
I hope 10, is your 'funniest' year yet.
Your humour was the best part of my week. Your presence is the best part of The Kid's day. And you have definitely been one of the best parts, of your parent's lives. Never has their been a child, more perfectly able to simultaneously induce a dramatic eye roll and a seriously amused laugh, from the adults, surrounding your show. You are brilliant, inquisitive, surprising and the very best fake-brother our family could have asked for.
Happy Tenth Birthday, Six!
We love you.

Tink Talk on a Thursday

Tink and I took a late-date to Wal-mart.
She was exceptionally well-behaved. Sweet, helpful and an absolute delight.
(Seriously. I actually mean that!)
As I drove out of the parking lot, this conversation occurred. This is as accurate as possible.

Me: Tink, thank-you for coming to Wal-Mart with me. You were so good tonight. You are my best friend.
Tink (HUGE eye roll): Moooommmm... I am NOT your friend. I am jus your daughter.
Me: I know you are my daughter but you are also my friend, because I like being with you.
Tink (if possible, an even more dramatic eye roll, with a deep sigh): I jus can't be your friend. You hafta be daddy's friend. I have odder friends that are not you.
Me: I know you have lots of friends but you are my friend too. Moms and daughters can be friends.
Tink: Ok... but I jus think, you hafta be daddy's friend, cuz he lobes you more. Cuz... he has a mom. And her name is (Edit) and she has FOUR kids and he is the littlest, last baby.
Me: Gramma has 5 kids...
Tink: WHAT??!! Fibe? That is too many!
Me: I know...Right?!
Tink: Welb... it's jus... Daddy was her baby. He had diapers. Then he got big and he felb in lobe with you because you are taller than him. Then he gabe you a ring and you got married. So now, he hasta be your friend. And he has a sista. And she is habing a birthday. And that is CRAZY! Cuz girls can't habe birfdays when they get big. But Aunt (Edit) can habe one, I guess, cuz she is nice. She is old like you. And you guys have bigger... ummm.. bras. And I will have um... bras, when I am big. And.. Daddy lobes you. Cuz you are taller and bigger. Soo, daddy can jus be your friend. (eye roll) So... ok, mom?

There are SOOO many moments, in this 30 second exchange, that were hilarious...
She can't be my friend, she already has enough.
Coach fell in love with me because I am taller.
Her Gramma had a crazy amount of kids.
Even trying to compare my 'ummm... bras' to Doc's.
Old girls can't have birthdays.
Coach wore diapers.

Man... that girl is funny.

**Also, the picture had no correlation to the story, I was just attempting to deep breath and cleanse, from the sweaty fence guys...

Yard Project #287

In a continuing effort to Cute Up our Slice of Corner... we finally finished a long over due project: Extending and painting our privacy fence. I sent a text early in the week, inviting several people to a Super Awesome Fence Building/Painting Party. A few very sorry souls, accepted our invitation.
I am pretty sure, they regret their RSVP.
Actually, I know for a fact, they hate us (me) for it, as The Commissioner vehemently exclaimed,
"You guys throw the WORST parties!!"



The work, was not exactly easy or fun...
but the increasingly uncomfortable (to put it mildly) heat wave gripping our area... well, that just made some people sorta angry-ish.

We (very unfortunately) witnessed one member of the crew, remove and then ring his shirt like a wet dish cloth. People literally gagged for 30 minutes following. I can still barely eat, without a dry-heave flashback.



The time-saving paint sprayer, took some sweet lovin to get warmed-up. Warhol got just a tiny bit moody (again, I am sure it was just from the heat and not his stupid brother and his extra stupid sister-in-law and their cr@ppy home-improvement projects...)
The Mrs. hand-shaking nervously paced, as Warhol became more irritated. But once the sprayer worked, we all rejoiced as if Skittles rainbows fell from the sky.





After all their hard work (and my super difficult trips for refreshments and pizza) the fence is starting to look pretty great. I am happy with the results and even more thrilled we have family to help us. Thanks again... Commish, Tlegner, Warhol, General and Coach. Nice work, boys!
A very special thanks to the morons that came back for more punishment, the next day.
I am grateful, you had a short memory!
(sorta like how I wish my memory would quickly erase that slow-motion dripping shirt.... ewww. It was no Top Gun Volleyball scene, that's for shiz.)

Swim Lessons 2011: The Good, The Really Bad and The Ugly.

It is a very wise decision to sign your children up for second session swim lessons. No rain, no chilly June mornings... it is warm and the water is inviting. The only catch? If the 2 weeks worth of temperatures average about 102 degrees, nearly every single day, the mommies get a lil short tempered.
Sure... there were some cute moments:





It is always sweet to solidify the sweet cousin relationship between my girls and the Mrs. girls. Though, Coco may prefer just a little more space. Her new Stand-in-Mommy (Shortcake) likes to keep a close eye on her baby. I think Shortcake may become one of those mother's with furry back-pack leashes.





Per usual, The Kid has proven to be a fish. He loves to swim and especially show off on the high-dive.



Guess who else lobes the diving board?? Coco jumped twice! She was rewarded with a private date night with her parents and a Wal-mart trip for a Dora mermaid. (Yes, I reward big for swimming accomplishments.)



(Coco proudly clinging to the wall and reviewing her 'Big Jump' after 'Kistal catched me!'.)

(Her big brother pulled her safely from the water to congratulate her second jump. Look very closely at the picture... you'll see in the background... Coco's new mommy had to secretly jump in the deep end, just in case she needed to save her.)

The Kid continued to impress during the second week. Diving to the bottom for bricks and perfecting his strokes. He's so handsome, with his tan.





And now... The Bad.
You may have noticed, Tink did not make an appearance in the diving board segment. Poor girl, had a pretty rough ride during lessons. Tink likes the water, she likes a good doggie paddle, she enjoys a nice tea party in the baby pool. But she DOES NOT like to go under water. Not even a lil bit.
On Day One, her instructor tried for a "Let's Dunk you real quick to show you water doesn't hurt" approach... and it did not go over well. Tink immediately sprang from the pool and ran to me, pointing and repeatedly declaring "My teachfer just tried to drowned me!! She is rweally trying to drowned me and kill me!"
And once you have crossed Tink... it's over.
Every day after that, was a struggle.



As mentioned, the extreme heat, made the mommies a little grumpy. At least twice, I packed the whining kids up early and yanked Tink out of her lesson. And poor Punkin? She spent a little time in the corner...



Tink had a mini-victory, for nearly 10 minutes, she swam across the deep end, in a life jacket. I cheered like she had crossed the English Channel.
In all, her grade sheet read: Out of a possible 32 passing points, Tink achieved only 4 of her Skills:


1. Can exit safely using ladder or side.
2. Knows how to use a life jacket.
3. Can move in the water, while wearing a life jacket.
4. Knows how to get help.

In conclusion, Tink only learned how to get the bleep away from her instructor and run to her mother.

The most ugly part of swim lessons? Trying to obtain JUST ONE cute photo of all three children. Out of a minimum 17 pics taken, this was sadly the best.



Oh, swim lessons... you really were not fun.
Can't wait till next year.
You will recognize Tink, for sure, she'll be the practically grown child (in calender years, not size) which will continually return to Level Two.

To my (Not so) loving husband:

Dear Coach:

Do you remember last night, when I discovered the Classified ad in our Paper, for FREE Shih tzu/Cocker spaniel puppies? Adorably called, Cock-A-Tzus!
Do you remember how I said I really wanted puppies for our children? How I have lived with dogs my entire life and it feels unnatural to not have one in my home? How I believe that children are better people, after being raised with dogs?
(and you replied, How much better was Tink's face, for having a dog?? And I replied that was a FREAK thing and you should shut it!! And are you EVER gonna let that go?!! And you replied, No... a dog biting off my daughter's face, will never be a dropped subject.)
PS- You're Drama. Anyway....

So we finished our chat. And you said.. 'Ok, if you want a puppy, let's get a puppy.' And you went inside and called the guy's number.
Then, this morning, you called and told me that we had a 2:30pm appointment to go get a puppy! Excited!!
But somehow, while you were pretending to be kind and giving... you mysteriously played a CONR Jedi mind trick on me. (even though you don't like Star Wars. Which is ANOTHER THING I hate about you...)
You laid some kinda Twilight Zone alien negativity ear worm, while I slept last night. You pretended to be supportive but secretly must have chanted "It's not the right time for a puppy..." subliminally.
Because during my morning yoga class, I began to think this over. We have 3 summer day trips planned... I am training for a Pilates certification... the electric fence needs repairs... we need to get the children settled into the school year. Over and over, during my Downward Dogs, your stupid voice of reason, seeped into my excited smushy sweet puppy snugly brain.
After class, I spoke with you.
Do you remember how you said,
"This is your decision. Whatever you want. If you want a puppy, we'll get a puppy." You did mention, you were not leaning towards getting a puppy... but still you played supportive and sweet.
But dang-it, if I didn't realize until now, that your wicked smart mind reversed psychology-ed me. You really played me like a fiddle, didn't you??
Because do you remember, how I called you back an hour later and said.. "Alright, please call and cancel the appointment. This is not the right time for a puppy."
And do you remember how you replied,
"Are you SURE? Is this what you want? Maybe you are right, it is a busy time for us. It's YOUR call."
Don't think, I do not clearly see the game you just played. You skillfully, maneuvered that basketball past Your Wife the Defender, for your score. You drafted your played and dribbled so carefully around me, I didn't even realize who had the ball, you left me disoriented and confused. You're a crafty little Point.
Well done, Jerk. Well done.
Now...
I am puppy-less... AND I can't even really blame you, because you appeared to be supportive and kind, during the decision making process. Letting ME think, that I made the final decision not to get a puppy! You are the slimiest-sort of Super Great Guy.
You may have won the battle Coach...
but I will win this war.

Blog Public:
Consider this a public service announcement:
We will be in the market for a super cute, child friendly, small-ish puppy, sometime around late September. Free-sih and totally adorable. (I already have names picked). Unless of course, my husband CONR Jedi Mind tricks me into thinking I hate puppies by then. Coach may be cute and sorta little... but he just Ran my weak will all the way to PuppY-lessVille and back again.

My Husband is 12 yrs old.

In an effort to stay cool, we are keeping the kids indoors, a bit more than I would like. Yesterday, in a moment of brilliance, Coach dug out an original Nintendo (you know, all the way from the 1980's!!) and set it up in the Kid's bedroom.
The Kid popped in the Original Mario Bros and started in... he was amused but repeatedly mentioned how 'old' the game was.



Later, after a Double Header Softball Game, the Coach returned home (After hours of Coach Time) and promised to help me get the kids into bed.

10:35pm: Coach starts by offering to get The Kid off to bed... with just one game of Mario.

10:50pm: I walk in, while dealing with a tired and bratty Coco.... I accidentally start watching the game. I am amazed that I can immediately remember where each mushroom or jewel is hidden in the bricks. I resist the urge to shout-out the hidden points to The Kid. I calmly mention to my mesmerized husband, "Coach... really, it is time for everyone to go to sleep.."

10:58pm: I stroll back in... Coach is STILL playing and smearing The Kid. Coach is bouncing around hidden worlds, The Kid has never heard of. I tell a sweet story, of how Grammy was a Mario FuReeaKK!! (I would find her hiding in a dark room, barely eating, in her 'winter sweater' playing til her hands were numb.) The Kid hysterically laughs, as if this Grammy story, is the best he has ever heard.
Coach is STILL playing like a Mad Man. I give him 'the look' he purposely jumps Mario to his death, to give The Kid a turn. (Coach still has 3 lives left.) Though he acts, as if he has literally 'died for me..'

11:10pm: I re-enter the room. I catch myself, nearly yelling at The Kid, for not knowing how to jump all the way to the TOP of the flag. I AGAIN remind Coach, it is time for 'the children' to go to bed!

11:18pm: I walk back in and say "Seriously, boys. It is time for bed. You two need to turn off the video game and listen to your mother. NOW." They both say, "Ok... Mom." without turning to look towards me. But continue to play.

11:28pm: I enter for the last time. Coach is STILL playing. I say, "Not cute anymore. Coach, grow up and turn off the game. Let's just pretend to show some maturity. I'm not playin."

11:31pm: Finally. Game Over.
At least until tonight.

Stay Classy... San Diego.

On the heels of our fancy, first row dugout seats at a Cubs game, with private parking, celebrities and Ditta-style strolls along the beach... we reluctantly decided to slum-it on the Annual "We are the three best friends, that anyone can have...." Cubs Game Day.
First we parked our own car and trekked halfway across Chicago, for a little pre-game warm up and picture taking. Especially the "Three Best Friends".
CW, Coach and CToddizzle.

Now, CW may just actually be my cousin and Coach is my husband, but I pretty much get invited as a tag-along... as does CTodd's Husband. CW is granted an extra ticket, which she wasted on some Old Creepy Loser last year and this year gifted to a girl friend.
To insure our Guest status isn't revoked like that creepy guy, I volunteered to be the DD and CT's husband apparently decided to take his Funny A Game.
I even managed to pull my hair from the permanent summer pony-tail, in an effort to make my husband proud to take a pic with me. Obviously, from his pained smile, the pony must not be my only problem.



CTodd and The Husband (he's only warming up...)

So... for awhile we actually went to the game. We tried to make a small effort to watch the action but with the 13 to 3 Cubs loss. The (always losing) game is really becoming secondary to our fun.
The fan next to CW, was literally bored to sleep.
Which helped amuse us for a bit.





After the 8th or 9th Marlin home run...
We headed to The Stretch.
An establishment with an especially kind owner, super cool T-shirts and party hardy dance tunes. Just ask Toula and (The Hair) aggressively violating her space.



The crowd was jumpin and Tre was holding court.



Remember that picture with my husband, a minute ago? Where is he pained to stand close to me?? Per usual, he saved his cuteness for his CTodd pic. Must have been because her legs looked phenomenal.

After Coach and CT's husband finished this super deep talk about politics, or weather patterns, or boxes... AND our table received it's 12th tray... I kindly mentioned it was probably time to head home. Coach patted CT's husband on his back again and we left.

While trekking it BACK across Chicago, CTodd politely asked (told us to cross the street RIGHT NOW!) if anyone was hungry for a bite of McDonalds.



Afterwards, we slowly walked another 17 blocks to our van. (It took a little longer, as CT's Husband's one leg had more to drink than another). I held a brief informative seminar to ensure everyone could quickly and appropriately open their window (just in case!) and I began the drive home.

The Husband continued to be hilarious. CW caught a mini nap. Coach and CTodd played a little game, I privately labeled "Who can talk more trash than the Other, about various people or how much they want to bite the cheeks off their youngest child."
At one point I quietly muttered to Coach,
"I am starting to hate the sound of your voice...."
CTodd replied, "Not me...! Go on, keep talking!"

Maybe that is why he smiles around her more....

In Conclusion:
Awesome day.
Little less Class but several belly bending laughs and some killer one-liners. Sign us up for next year! (well, I mean... sign Coach up. Hopefully he takes me with.)

Slam Dunk Contest 2011

Per our usual tradition, the men performed their annual slam dunk contest. Always a crowd pleaser. This year, we had our most contestants ever and were immediately impressed by the practice round. Warhol suggested a 'Telephone Game' style voting format, as to not hurt any feelings. The judges panel, seriously appreciated the new approach.
And before Munchkin asks:
Yes, of course the hoop is regulation.

Now....
I snapped approximately 68 pictures of this event. I carefully selected the clearest, most interesting photo for each participant. If the men do not like their action shot, my excuse is as follows....

A.) With your swift speed and insane power, while aggressively charging the hoop, it is difficult to capture your cheetah-like blur...

B.) Listen... I am working with what you gave me.
I did the best I could.







Sadly, the above three (Warhol, Clark and The Commissioner) were eliminated in the first round.





Chili and One were the next to fall.
(Literally. Which still worked in Chili's favor... as Flag Girl loves a good fall.)

Leaving Three and Coach to battle it out in the finals. Each was given 3 attempts to deliver their best dunk.
After a VERY intense round of telephone voting....



Our winner of the 2011 Slam Dunk contest and the man happy to regain his title (after a tough loss last year)... Coach.



Now, you may wonder what's the point??! Why would anyone compete against Coach, in HIS sport?? Well... if there was ever the chance to beat this kid in basketball... it's gonna be in a dunk contest. And if the others start to feel annoyed about Coach winning, well they can always take Coach golfing. Rumour has it, that makes the rest look and feel like Super-stars.

My...My... what Beautiful Grand-Children you Have!

It has been mentioned, a time or two, that the gene pool in this family, runs pretty cute. Beyond regular cuteness. And it really never hurts, to provide the world, with a little more photographic evidence....























My favorite part of the above picture, is not Nine's cute little tushie... but further in the background... the amazing, happy smile of Grandpa. This particular activity was "his idea and he really hoped it went well, so he could take the credit." (Never mind that Gramma actually ran about purchasing everything, including the candy, she placed inside.)

An observer may notice, sometime around the end of tomorrow's 'Slam Dunk Contest 2011' post, there are no photographs of the adult women of our family. Noooo... surprisingly, the men did not offer to take the children on a vacation and leave us to a hotel weekend, including pedicures and wine.
Our weekend temperatures hovered around 107 degrees (in the shade, in the evening) and it was quickly agreed, we would not document our adult lady faces as they slowly melted, for blog purposes.

Sure, yada yada... it may take pretty mothers, to create the above pretty children, all of THAT SAID:
A woman has a right to a little vanity... and after three days of swimsuits, s'mores and sticky sweat...
we have officially invoked that right.