Six Flags...Now Rated PG-13

*Note: The bottom portion of this post is rated PG-13, so you might want to keep the kids off this one.

The boys received season passes to Six Flags this year for Christmas, and since we are the parents of said minors, we get to accompany them, so we received season passes from ourselves also (allow myself to introduce myself...huh?). I know that Six Flags is supposed to make you happy...it's the happiest place on earth, right? Or is that Disney World...I forget. But my kids think it's the happiest place on earth because it's here and because we can go there many, many,...many times.

Well the day after Christmas was the first of many, many, many more trips I'm sure, and it did not make me happy. Oh sure, seeing my kids enjoy it made me happy...I'm not totally heartless.

But standing in all those lines...and people, it was hot. I know it was December 26th, but it was a humid 76 degrees when we went and probably 96 degrees inside the line buildings. And I'm a slight hater of dirty places...and yes kids, Six Flags is a dirty, dirty place.

And because this...Six Flags brings out the skank in people. I know it was warm this day, but girls (read skanks) were wearing their backless halter tops with their bikini top underneath with their low rider jeans...I am not kidding. And I know there are many, many,...many more 90 degree days where we will be lucky if they're wearing the jeans or the halter.

And I'm all for expressing your opinions, but people are getting much more vocal with them and wearing them on their shirts...AND WE GET IN LINE RIGHT BEHIND THEM.

I tried to stand really close to her so my kids could not read her shirt, but it was impossible. They didn't ask...and hopefully won't ask their friends when they get back to school. The real sweet part was...she was in line with her 7 year old. Evidently, Mothers of the Year go to Six Flags too.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Bathroom

This story will confirm 2 things: (1) I am a dork, and (b) Steve has the patience of Job.

Last Tuesday night was our last night in Mississippi where we had enjoyed pre-Christmas festivities with my sister and her family. During the night (actually about 3:45 Wednesday morning), I got up to go to the bathroom (an aggravating, irritating activity because either I am getting old, or because I have the bladder the size of a peanut). Anyway, as I get up out of bed I hear someone in the bathroom which I assume is my dad...because he also gets up a million times a night to use the bathroom (which is because he IS old...sorry I had to throw you under the bus like that dad) and as I open the door I see someone walking down the hall towards the living room in black sweat pants (the kind that make swishy noises when you walk), and what I believed to be a black jacket and shoes. I thought it was weird that my dad was dressed and walking away from his bedroom, but I was sleepy so I dismissed it...for about 2 seconds because that's when my brain starts up with all the scenarios. After I finished in the bathroom, I went into the living room and then the kitchen and didn't see anyone. Then I went to my mom and dad's room and...(play scary music here) both my mom and dad were IN BED! Okay now I'm kind of freaking out.

I go into our bedroom and wake Steve up (here's the part where his patience comes into play) and I tell him I think someone's in the house because I saw someone come out of the bathroom in black clothes, and because daddy is still in bed, and because I most certainly will not be able to go back to sleep until you get up and look around the house in your underwear. So he gets up (I think he kind of half believed me because usually when this scenario plays out in our own house, he rolls over and goes back to sleep. When we were first married he got up and got his gun about the first 6 times, but after that...no, he just rolls over and goes back to sleep).

He "clears the house" (that's cop lingo for looking behind every door and in every room in case you haven't watched COPS before) and he finds the back sliding glass door unlocked and the door leading from the sunroom to the living room unlocked (cue scary music again...I'm serious, my heart was beating a mile a minute). He tells me to wake up my brother-in-law and so I did telling him we thought someone had been in the house. He and Lisa get up and we (read I) began telling them the story and telling him the back doors were unlocked but evidently I SCARED THEM OFF because they left without taking anything.

That's when our discussion in the living room starts waking up our 5 children asleep in said living room. Ashley starts to rouse and ask what's going on and Steve told her I saw someone leaving the bathroom and we thought someone was in the house. That's when she says, I went to the bathroom a little bit ago and I didn't see anything. Then Steve asks her, "are you wearing black swishy pants?" (he is an investigator after all), and she pulls back the covers showing her sweat pants and says "yes." Omg...I totally thought Ashley was a robber and I woke up the whole house because of it.

After my apologies to everyone and telling them to go back to sleep because we have to get up in 2 HOURS to leave for home, we went back to bed. I thought Steve was going to reassure me that I did the right thing and everyone should be as good a citizen as me...but this is what he said to me before rolling over and going back to sleep..."you're killing me smalls."

Nice.

Celebrate the Day

Over our pre-Christmas trip to Mississippi, I purchased the Relient K Christmas CD at the urging of my niece, Ashley. There is a song on there that I've been thinking about non-stop since I first heard it. Some of the words are:

"...the first time that you opened your eyes

Did you realize that you would be my Savior?

And the first breath that left your lips

Did you know that it would change this world forever?

...This baby would one day save me.

And I celebrate the day that you were born to die

So I could one day pray for you to save my life."

Today I celebrate those precious eyes, and first breath that opened the way for my salvation. I pray your family will celebrate this day...and the baby that changed this world forever.

Yes Caleb, There is a Santa Clause

Well today the charade ended. There have been signs for months, maybe years, that I don't have babies in my house anymore...that my boys are growing up and I can no longer deny the fact that they are one step closer to not crawling up in my bed for a tickling/giggling session anymore, or taking bubble baths, or calling me 'mommy.' Today, Caleb told me he doesn't believe in Santa Clause anymore.

And I know this conversation should not have led to tears, but come on, it’s me...and most things that make me realize my boys are growing up leads me to tears. We were riding home from church, and my niece, Ashley, asked Caleb something about Santa. He immediately looked at me, and his eyes filled with tears. He said, “I kind of know it’s really you and daddy, but I still believe.” Just seeing him get emotional made me teary and I asked him why he was crying. He said, “ever since I was five, you wanted me to believe in Santa, but the kids at school told me it wasn’t real.” I know he was emotional because he thought it would make me sad because he didn’t believe anymore…that’s how sweet and tender he is. I hugged him, and told him that we only wanted him to believe in Santa because it’s just a fun thing at Christmas…and it’s okay that he doesn’t believe anymore. “Santa” will still visit every Christmas and we’ll still have fun “believing.” About 30 minutes later, you could tell he was still thinking about it and he said, “I still kind of believe in Santa, mom.” I asked him why and he said because he still wants to tell little kids to believe, but in my heart I think it’s probably because he thinks he might not get as many presents…either way, I’m okay with that.

And while I’m sad that the childhood innocence of believing in Santa no longer exists in my house, I want to make sure I always see the positive side of things too. Like, not having to watch what we say to make sure we don’t give it away, or not having to buy double gifts and making sure Santa looks like a rock star…believe me this gets harder as they get older and a stocking full of hot wheels cars do not cut it anymore. And then there’s not having to get up at 5 a.m. on Christmas morning to make sure we capture on video the first look of excitement in seeing what Santa brought.

But then again, we will never again capture on video those precious little faces and the first look of excitement in seeing what Santa brought. Those tubals can be reversed, right?

Yeah, They're Equivalent

Tonight our family played Christmas angels. After we finished, we were talking to the boys about how good it is to give at Christmas, and how blessed we are that we can give. This is the end of that conversation:

Me: No matter how much we give, God always gives us more back.

Caleb (my sensitive, thoughtful one): He gave us our life.

Me: (tear in my eye)

pause...pause...pause

Cody (my not-so-tender one): And a Wii!

Really, what more could you ask for...life AND a Wii.

Ahhh...Those Were the Days

I picked this jewel up at Target tonight, and Steve was all, "you've got to be kidding." Nothing makes the age difference between us more apparent than this. When I was pretending to be Karen Carpenter in the bathroom mirror at home using my hairbrush for a microphone, he was in diapers.

Hodge Podge

This is Abby being nosey about my camera...the one she'll run away from every time I try to catch her drinking out of the toilet.

Steve got a SWAT call out today. These are the times that being a police officer's wife makes me nervous...when he flips on his lights and siren, knowing that he is about to be going 80+ mph in rush hour traffic trying to get to a hostage situation. The boys love it when it happens though.

It turned COLD today...REALLY COLD. It was sleeting a little, and I heard rumors that a little snow even fell. Tonight when we came home, I was the last one to get out of the car and the boys thought it would be sooo funny to lock me out of the house in the cold garage...

They're not going to think it's so funny in the morning when I wake them up the way my dad used to wake us up...by flicking us on the face with ice cold water. I'll make sure I have my camera ready then too.