He told a lie.

Well, shit. Now what am I going to do?

I’m sure this wasn’t the first time he’s told me a non-truth, but this was a boldfaced lie. Just to get a new game on his iPhone.

What happened, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you.

So, yesterday, we had a snow day. Snow days have lost all meaning and excitement for us this winter and, truth be told (see? I tell the truth), we are pretty sick to death of each other. Anyway, early in the morning, the 9-year-old had asked to get a new game on his phone. We, the parents, are the keepers of the iTunes password (we’re no dummies), so, once I learned the game was free, I agreed to the purchase and entered the password.

A few hours later, he came back to ask for the password again.

Me (the phone was already on the password prompt, so I couldn’t clearly see what it was for): What is this for?
Him: The game from this morning.
Me: Didn’t I already get you that?
Him: Yes, but it didn’t work.

I had no reason not to believe him up until now. Besides, why lie about something so silly, right? So, I entered the password. Then the “are you sure you want to buy some silly game for $4.99, crazyperson??” notice popped up.

Me: WTF is this?? (Okay, no Fs were involved in this dialogue, but there should’ve been.)
Him: Aw, shit. Busted. (Okay, no swearing whatsoever took place here, but it makes the story more entertaining to me.)
Me (taking the phone from his grubby little hands – perhaps FOREVER): I can’t believe you would lie about something like this. You could’ve just asked me to get this $5 game. I would’ve said no, but you could’ve asked.
Him (running to his room): …

Sonofa.

Is this what happens at a certain age? I can still clearly remember one of the first times I was caught in a lie. I was 10 or 11. My friend was having a sleepover birthday party that night. For her birthday, I had gotten her the Whitney Houston “Whitney” cassette tape. Well, I didn’t like the plastic cover around it and wanted to take it off. My mother had told me not to – that it would no longer be new. I, of course, thought I knew better and took it off anyway. When she went to wrap the present, she saw what I had done. Dun dun DUN!

Her: Did you take off the wrapping?
Me (all shifty-eyed): NO.  (I was never a good liar.)
Her: Don’t lie. I know you’re lying. And because of that, you can’t go to the party.
(In retrospect, I was kind of an idiot. Of course, I did it. She knew I had wanted it off and SURPRISE! It was off. What could be only reason?)

Enter my brother.

Growing up, my older brother and I did not get along. I think there was a time when we did, but then there was definitely a time when we didn’t. And that lasted a looonnnngg time.

In our early years, his favorite pastime was to terrorize me and our younger brother. The guy gave me a concussion (I lost my sight!), for goodness’ sakes. Because he shoveled my driveway last night, I have finally decided to forgive him for that.

You’re welcome, Brother.

Anyway, while my mother was doling out my punishment, I could see my idiot brother laughing behind her.

And what did I do?

Me: HE did it! Look, Mom, he’s laughing! He just wanted to get me in trouble!

This threw my mother for a minute, I could tell. Now that I’m a mother, I can see that she wanted to believe me. It was almost impossible to believe my story, but, well, my brother was laughing, and, because he was such a jerk back then, it was possible he was screwing with me.

In the end, my mother let me go to the birthday. I’m sure I admitted to lying (I’ve blocked that part out), but she let me go anyway. I didn’t deserve it, but she’s a good mom.

And now that the 9-year-old has been caught in a lie, I’m at a loss. What if he’s been lying his entire life? What if he’s a big fat liar liar pants on fire? And will go on to become a sociopath, thief, and cheat? And end up in jail?? Am I ever to believe him again? Like when he blames the 6-year-old for breaking a Lego or my niece for being bossy? Am I going to question everything he says from now on?

Most importantly, will he ever get his phone back?? How else are we to entertain them on snow days???

See no evil, hair no evil

And the search for a hairstylist continues!

So, I got a haircut last week.  I had a coupon, I normally trust this place, so I took whomever was available. 

Let that be a lesson to me.

To be fair, she's very sweet.  She is funny, easy to talk to, and has the ability to make you feel comfortable right away... until she slashes your neck with her scissors.

It was all downhill from there.

It was, most likely, my fault.  I think she had made me laugh while she was cutting around my neck.  I jolted forward (as I sometimes do when I laugh) just as she was in a crucial spot.  She was inches away from my jugular.  I could've DIED.

Oh fine.  It wasn't that dramatic.

At any rate, I think because my near death experience freaked her out so badly, she stopped paying attention to what she was doing to me.  And, more importantly, to my hair.  After she spent the next 30 minutes apologizing and cutting, apologizing and cutting, apologizing and drying, I was sent on my way.  I thought it looked okay, but, then again, I didn't get a good look at the back.  I think she was trying to get rid of me pretty quickly.

I came home and looked at myself from all angles (a la shampoo commercial), and noticed that it looked like there was a big chunk cut out of the back of my head.  It could've been the new color, it could've been my cowlicks, but I was pretty sure it was cut wrong.  So, I made an appointment to get it fixed.

This is, unfortunately, becoming a regular occurrence for me.  I had to get a redo the last time I got a haircut, too.

I never thought I was freak about my hair.  I tend to make fun of my one friend who constantly obsesses about her hair.  But, it turns out I'm just like her. 

Gaaaaah!

So, 2 days later, I was back with the Slasher.  She was so glad I came back (probably wanted to make sure I hadn't bled to death / called a lawyer).  She cut and apologized, cut and apologized and I thought it looked okay by the end.  I was on my way out the door (again) when the manager came up to me.

Her:  Lea?
Me (thinking, should I know this person?):  Um, yeah?
Her:  Hi, my name is so-and-so.  I'm the manager.  I saw that you were a redo.  I've been watching her butcher cut your hair and yeah, even though you're not bleeding this time, it's still not right.  Do you have time for someone else to fix it?
Me:  Do I have to pay for this?  

Insert stylist #2.

I have never had anyone - not even Chad - take this much care to make sure my hair is even.  She was all up in my grill, making sure it was perfect.  I bet I beat the world record for longest breath holding in a single sitting.

2 stylists, 3 haircuts later, I'm alive to write about it.  To be honest, I don't think it looks much different than cut #2, but if the manager is happy, I'm happy.


I'm even more happy the problem is at the back of my head, which makes me conveniently forget all about it. 

An Apple a (whole frickin') day

Yes, I'm aware it's been almost 5 months since my last post.

So, last night, in my rush to make a yoga class on time, I dropped my phone.  My iPhone, to be more specific.  I didn't look at my phone until I was in the car, ready to jam to my iTunes.  

Sonofa.

The phone must've hit the kitchen floor in the most perfectest (yes, it was that. perfect.) way to completely eff it up.  I've dropped this phone lots of times never and nothing like this has happened before.  I guess practice makes perfect?  I've never ever done anything like this, ever, so imagine my surprise that a) it happened in the first place and b) it was as bad as it was.  There were all these white lines going down the length of the left side of the screen.  The right side?  Perfectly intact.  I was able to text my sister "y-u-p" as those letters were all on the right side of the keyboard.  Of course, I had to hit the camera button to get the phone unlocked, then click the center button to get to the home screen, but hey, I'm resourceful.  And my iTunes worked.  So, I didn't worry and continued to my yoga class.

After some namaste-ing, I came back to the phone.  And, because of my new state of calm, expected the phone to have reset or something while I was away.  Isn't that what happens?  You do nothing and it just fixes itself?  No?  Crap.  I was, unfortunately, left with the dreaded task of telling the husband.  No amount of yoga breathing could get me out of it.

This led to a mini-lecture about how I should be more careful (a doy) and an hour phone call to Apple or ATT&T, whomever he called.  Good news was I was eligible for an upgrade.  Just had to go to the store and get a new phone.  (Yay, new phone!)

This morning, we went to AT&T.  Got the new phone (yay!).  The salesperson told me I should make an appointment at the Apple store to sync all the information from my old phone to my new phone.  Sounded easy enough.  I scheduled an appointment at the Apple store.    

That was a mistake.

The (very nice) Apple guy told me that, basically, I could do whatever I needed to do from the comforts of my home.  Smiled (nicely) and (nicely) sent me on my way.

Ugh.  Fine, whatever.

I went home and plugged my new phone into my computer. 

Error #1:  You must download the newest version of iTunes

I've been putting this off for months (years?), ever since a FB friend asked if there was a way to undo the download.  I wanted no part of that.  But, if I had to, I had to.  Clicked on "update software".

Error #2:  You have too much shit on your computer.  Remove some and you can download iTunes.

Well, hell.  How do I do that?  As it was, we had an external hard drive for our photos.  What more could I do? 

Since I had no idea how to find files to delete, I went to Apple's site to find the (very nice) tech support.

Error #3:  You must use the latest version of Firefox for Apple Support.  Or something like that.  Basically, if you're using this version of Firefox, we have bigger problems.

Oh, fercrankinaford.

After an hour on the phone - an hour of deleting files, downloading iTunes, creating new accounts, resetting the phone (twice) - tech support (nicely) sent me on my merry way. 

Is it working?  I have no idea.  According to the phone connected to the computer, I still have 7 hours remaining in my backup process to know for sure.  It's usable.  However, none of my apps are on the phone, but, then again, my darling wallpaper is there. 

That's a start, I guess. 

I am a yogi

The definition of yogi is "one who practices yoga".  Or, in other circles, "An American baseball player, born 1925".  Today, I'm writing about the former.  I'll most likely never write about the latter (no offense, Yogi).

Obviously, there is a lot of information out there about yoga.  And I'm sure most of it is true.  Even if it is on the Internet.  I believe yoga is whatever you want it to be.  For me, it's a way to challenge myself physically, while helping me find ways to reduce my stress level.  While I understand there's an "awareness of your inner self" component, I had never, um, been aware.

I've been practicing yoga religiously since that first class I took 2 years ago.   I can now say with conviction that yoga is my thing.  It's challenging and relaxing at the same time.  It's exactly what someone like me needs. 

While I practice regularly at home, I like to take classes.  About a year ago, I found a yoga studio I truly love.  I go with friends, I go alone.  I just go.  I go to class with a few friends every Saturday morning.  It's early, but that's what's so great about it.  We come, we see, we conquer.  And then go for Starbucks after.  Bliss. 

Anyway, my studio partnered with some others in the area to put on this free yoga event last night.  So, my SIL and I decided we'd go.  Along with several hundreds of our closest yogi friends.  When would we have the chance again to practice outside the Rock Hall for free?

It was everything I had hoped for.  I know I'm totally drinking the Kool-Aid here, but I don't care.  We started out in shavasana, looking up at the stars.  My SIL and I were all, "Yeah, this is the coolest."  I closed my eyes and listened to the world around me.  I heard crickets and traffic and the wind blowing.  I got the goosebumps.  I was aware.

At one point in the evening, our instructor referred to us as yogis.  Before this night, I just thought of myself as someone who practices yoga.  But something switched on inside me (again, the Kool-Aid) and I agreed with her.  I am a yogi.

The rest of the class was similar to what we do.  Aside from me taking pictures of the crowd while in downward dog.  Details.  It was an event I'll have a hard time forgetting.  Even with my terrible memory.

I am a yogi.              

How I spent my summer vacation

I just had to tell my 8-year-old niece to be aware of her lady bits.  At.  All.  Times.

What is this world coming to?

And so marks the end of another fun summer!  School starts in 2 days, which means we have 2 days to cram as much fun into their little systems as can be allowed without a search warrant.

First stop?  The dentist!  Yaaaaaay!!

Okay, this was probably the crappiest thing I could've done to my boys this summer.  But, they'll thank me for it someday. 

The other night, I synced my phone to the computer, moving about 300 pictures from my phone to the computer.  And then I looked at the pictures.

You know what?  It was a pretty fun summer.  Go me!

I mean, yeah, we had some crappy weather and some lazy days, but we did do stuff.  I have pictures of the kids:

at the zoo
at the beach
at the pool
in DC 
on a scavenger hunt at the nature center
at the beach (again)
on a hike, feeding ducks
at the water park
putt-putting
running through Target like crazy people
at the zoo (again) (and again)
on the slip-n-slide
eating ice cream
on a day trip to Put-in-Bay (an island on Lake Erie about 3 miles off the mainland)
an African safari!

It was a fun summer.  They might not remember it, but I sure will.  It will keep me warm on those cold lonely nights at the old folks' home.

But now we must look ahead.  School supplies have been bought (and are sitting in a pile on my dining room table).  The 5-year-old has Kindergarten orientation Wednesday, but school technically starts for him on Friday.

Sigh.  I'm going to have a hard time letting go of that one.  He's my youngest.  And, to me, he's still a baby.  It probably has to do with the fact that he can't say his Rs properly and would still prefer I wipe his ass (let's face it, I'm better at it).  And while he has a great Kindergarten teacher, she's. not. me.

So, yeah.  This sucks.

But?  I am looking forward to my Twilight marathon!    

Coolest Mom in the World!

Remember when I told you about my history with Super Mario Bros?  Well, the Coolest Mom in the World strikes again!

Picture it: 
It is morning.  Our Wednesday visitor shows up before my children wake.  We chat for about a half hour (he's a talker, that one; cracks me up).  I ask if he wants to play Wii.

Turns out the kids' new (old) game to play is Super Mario Bros (again).  Yay!  I know this game!

We turn it on.  He plays a round.  I tell him my history with the game.  How I've beaten the game.

Him (wide eyed):  You've beaten this game??
Me (solemnly):  Yes.  Yes, I did.
Him:  Whoa!

Yes, that's right.  I'm amazing because I've beaten a Nintendo game.  I can die happy now.

Then I play a round for him.  I'm dodging mushroom guys left and right!  I'm getting extra lives he doesn't know exist!  I'm getting 5,000 points just by jumping the flag correctly! 

I.  Rock.  It. 

The kid is enthralled.  I love this kid.  My kids don't think I'm nearly as cool.  They usually roll their eyes any time I try to show off my awesomeness.  Not this kid.  He is immensely impressed. 

I think I'd like to keep him as one of my own.  I'm pretty sure his mom won't mind.

Finally, my lazy ones come down the stairs.  They go to the basement, as usual.  Our visitor tells them what I have just accomplished.  (To be fair, I only got to somewhere in the 5th level, but still.  They haven't gotten that far.)

I'm upstairs in the kitchen, listening to his tale.  A lot of "She did this!" and "She did that!"  They were all, "She did?!"  It?  Was fantastic. 

I wonder if they give you a tiara for Coolest Mom or is it just a T-shirt?

Playing house

Yesterday, while I was evoking arthritis in the fingers making friendship bracelets, the kids abandoned me and went outside to play in the rain.  As I was intent on (read:  could not stop) the task at hand, I paid little to no attention to them.

Finally, I looked up to relieve the neck cramp I'd gotten from being hunched over for 8 hours straight and saw the children outside, struggling with a full bucket of soapy water.  They were lugging it over to the play set.  Also with a stack full of (clean white) washcloths.  In the 8-year-old's defense, I believe I granted permission, but what do I know?  I was trying not to mess up my bracelet.

What were they doing, you ask?

Cleaning their play set. 

They have been playing "Little House on the Prairie" for days now and the play set has become their log cabin.  So, they washed it, like any good adult does (not this adult, but hey, whatever).  It was so adorable, I had to stop my bracelet-making (which was going horribly wrong anyway) to watch.  The awesome neighbors' kids were over, too.  Imagine a 2-year-old with a dirty (yet soapy) towel, washing down a slide. 

A.Dor.Able.  

8-year-old:  I never knew it was this fun to clean.
Me:  Oh?  If you're looking for something to clean...
8-year-old:  I mean, with water and stuff. 

If they're this excited about cleaning, I'll give them things to clean.  With water even!  They have a perfectly cleanable bathroom upstairs just waiting for them.

Hey, kids?  Where'd you go?