Let the Grandparents Take’em

As I’m sure many of you are like me and have been spending real quality time your adoring families - thanks to good ol’ spring break, this year my husband and I decided to let the grandparents get in on the family fun. After sending my rambunctious trio out of town to visit my husband’s parents for the week, you would think I would have had a quiet house to myself. No kids, no mess, no fighting or whining, well you thought wrong.

I can tell you not one day went by this week that either one of my kids called to complain about the other or one of the grandparents called to ask a question. Yes the millions of questions that in-laws can drill you on about how you raise your children, because they know best right? Just look at my husband – the biggest kid of them all!       

Let’s start at the beginning of the week. We sent the kids on a charter bus to visit my in-laws Sunday night and everything seemed fine until 2 hours later that night. Yes the kids couldn’t get 2 hours away before an incident occurred. While on the charter bus my oldest Isabel, decided to take her phone with her to the bathroom of the moving charter bus and as luck would have it she dropped her phone right into the non-flush toilet on the bus. Mixed in with god knows what in the toilet was her phone. Yup, the bus driver fished it out and dropped it into a grocery bag for her to bring on home back to me.

Besides the constant phone calls, it was smooth sailing up until yesterday afternoon, which prompted me to share this story today. So of course there’s a tree house in this story. What good is story without a tree house? My boys, my boys, my boys…Max and Jake, oh I how adore their willingness to be so adventurous. The two were playing up in the tree house and of they were doing what little boys do. They decided to see who could jump the farthest from the tree house to ground. I’m sure you know where this is headed. Yesterday, I received the call that Jake jumped down and jumped down hard. Let’s just say he’ll now have a cast for a few weeks on his wrist.

All of this commotion in the matter of one week…I love spring break. Well my pride and joys will be boarding the bus this evening and will be returning to school on Monday. One with a stinky broken phone, one with a broken arm, and a huge bag of clothes for me wash. Oh joy. Got to love motherhood!        

The Fort Knox Candy Breach

This little Weilk family chronicle takes place about a year ago. To set the scene properly you should probably know that Max and Jake share a room when they're not destroying it with Legos and action figures. Don't get me wrong, we are a very clean family and I make sure the rug-rats properly organize it before they go to bed every night.

Anyway, this particular day I just so happened to walk in and notice that Jake is quickly putting something in his dresser drawer with an obvious flustered expression on his face that screams, “I'm doing something I shouldn't. Don't look, mom!”

“Jake, What are you doing?” -Me

Jake is trying desperately to swallow something in his mouth while trying to be as secretive as possible but what ever it is is too big. Somehow gets it down, I'm honestly extremely relieved that he didn't choke doing this. Thank God!

“Nothing momma” -Jake

“Spit it out Jake, what is that? I mean it!” -Me

“It wasn't anything really, I promise” -Jake. I notice Max is also concealing something.

“Give it here Max” -Me

Max hands over a bag of fun dip and says, “It's just candy” while exposing his green tongue.

“Where did you get it from?” I ask while Jake pulls out the bottom entire dresser drawer. Boom! Hit the mother load! There was a bottomless stash of Halloween, Christmas, Easter, and birthday candy! Usually we throw out the rest of the kids candy after a certain point after Halloween or whatever occasion. This is mainly because Max and Jake make sure to get about 2 pillow cases of candy every Halloween. They had been saving up their candy for years. I'm guessing because I haven't seen Oreo O's in years.

All these years I was wondering why my kids would have a cavity just about every other time they went to the dentist and making sure they brush their teeth three times a day. And here they are with teeth rot city cleverly concealed right here in my own house. I toss my head into my hands and shake side to side trying to conceal a grin of my own. #MyKidsAreAwesome

Remember as far as anyone knows, we’re a nice normal family.
- Homer Simpson

WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY KID IS SAYING HE'S HUNGOVER!?!

This story takes place a couple of years ago when Jake was in 3rd grade and ranks a magnitude 10 on the Richtor scale of embarrassment. This was when I was working again full time and less hopeless (I joke). Anyway, Craig and I usually spent our weekends with the kids and Sunday after church was when the kids would stay at grandma and grandpa's. During this  time is when Craig and I would go out for romantic dinners, movies, what ever we wanted to do with out the kids putting us in social headlocks.

Well, this particular Sunday Craig's parents were out of town or they just need a weekend away from our monsters. We looked and looked for a sitter, when finally Craig insisted on one of his friends sit for us. One of his still single, irresponsible, friends from college. Craig calls his friend, Brian, and I'm pretty sure Craig probably black mailed him into babysitting. We go out and enjoy ourselves. Come home, and no big deal the kids are all put to sleep so I don't ask questions and go to bed.

The next day at work I get a call from school with the nurse saying that my son is claiming that he is "HUNG OVER". Looking back, I can't even remember where I was. Was I in a meeting, in my office, at lunch, I don't know but it must have been priceless if someone witnessed me on the phone, "What do you mean my kid is hung over!?! I'm heading there now!". Then, I storm off not as to say a word to anyone. All I remember after that is driving like a mentally insane person on the way to the school screaming at my husband for his friend giving my 8 year old alcohol. Don't worry folks it's not as bad as it seems (just keep reading).

Turns out that Jake must have been trying to get Brian to play with him. Brian must have said that he didn't have to play with him because he was hung over. So Jake being Jake, assumed that he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to do if he just exclaimed that he was "HUNG OVER" like uncle Brian explained to him. WTF, Brian!

After I settled down and stopped seeing red I went to explain this to the nurse and the teacher. For the rest of the year I'm almost positive that the teacher, nurse, and probably the entire staff thought that my husband and I were Alcoholics. They probably still do, I don't know.

Over time you learn to not care about what the heck people think of you as long as you and your family are happy. And we are! All you can do is shrug it off your shoulders and prepare yourself for life's next big adventure, am I right?

The GD Quest for Mint-Oreos!

The journey begins at Jake's little league try outs, more accurately described as the gates of hell. First, Jake is definitely that kid in the outfield staring at clouds and trying to catch bugs. Trust me, we have already ruled out attention deficit disorder. That's just Jake, that's what he does. Not to mention he has the self proclaimed, “best power forward Illinois Wesleyan has ever seen,” as head coach. Aka, my husband (Craig). Craig being Craig, obviously expects his son to be the next MLB superstar. So he is screaming, yelling, ranting at Jake to pay attention. I yell at him to relax, “this is first year little league PRACTICE... There's only like 2 kids that can hit it to the outfield anyway!” Big mistake on my part. Because now, I have to deal with 2 children on the ride home.

Jake is crying in the back and Craig is demanding we stop for ice cream. Where we live, most ice cream parlors are closed for the season and there is no dairy queen for 6-10 miles. So, it was suggested to stop for Jake's favorite cookie, mint Oreos. So, I am driving radically (exaggerated, of course) to get to the nearest grocery. We stop at one store and Craig runs in. Mean while, I am trying to comfort Jake in the car. Craig comes out. No mint Oreos?!? We rush our little adventure over to Meijer. I'm on the phone with my daughter telling her we are stopping to get mint Oreos. Ok. Craig comes out with nothing again.

Craig doesn't say a word he is just fuming. So, I obviously don't comment about not finding any mint Oreos. Jake senses dad's anger and stops being upset as if someone flipped a light switch. The ride home is absolutely silent.

When we arrive at home Isabel (my daughter) asks where are the mint Oreo's? Craig says, “We went to Meijer and I asked if they had any they said no... So, I told them real nicely. F*ck you, I'll go to Jewel!” I lose it and start laughing uncontrollably! Hahaha, yeah you told 'em real nicely didn't ya Sparkey! Looks like you'll be going to Jewel for now on, huh? I'm surprised he wasn't arrested on the spot! I would like to take this time to officially apologize to who ever had to deal with my husband at that store on behalf of the entire Weilk family!

Storming the Gates in the Mornings

It's official! Trying to get my kids ready for school is like waging a full fledged war on time-management! Let me break down this morning's routine as we prepare to breach the castle like some sort of crazed screaming barbarians. And yes, someone will be calling to confirm my reservation at the nut house!

Foremost, my husband and I are awaken by Jake (our youngest) doing a flying elbow drop of doom from the edge of our bed to my husband's chest. Craig (my husband), who at the time I thought had a collapsed lung, starts his day off nicely by yelling at our son about the importance of non-violence. I look over at the clock, 6:15am. Great! The kids have to be at school at 8:30am. So lets do some mom math, that's 2 hrs to get everyone ready and a fashionable 15 mins to get to school. More specifically that's about 2 straight hours of Isabel getting her hair ready for school, an hour for Max to get ready plus an hour for him to finish his homework that he "forgot about", and finally 2 hours of Jake watching cartoons and about 2 mins of getting ready for school. Great, we're already late...

Like pulling a rabbit out of a hat, I somehow manage to make a well-rounded breakfast while Isabel and Max destroy something in the bathroom over a fight about who uses the bathroom too long.

"That sounded expensive! Lord bare me strength!" I remember thinking as I travel the stairs like I'm about to walk in on my parents. "What was that?" as I see what these little wilder-beasts just destroyed. Oh, just the sink facet... There is water spraying straight in the air hitting the ceiling and I am standing in a puddle a top the stairs! I scream for Craig and he quickly shuts the water off.

I grab the hoodlums by the hair and demand they get ready and eat breakfast. Jake on the other hand has not gotten ready at all, of course. Running 15 mins late already, Jake is demanding that he get time to fix his hair. Jake has curly hair as it is. Craig grabs the vacuum cleaner and begins to curl Jake's hair under it. In all that has happened to this family on this day and in the past, I couldn't help but laugh at this point. It was a hilarious sight! Jake was struggling to get this demonic device away from his head while my husband holds it to his head.

Finally, everyone is in the car and we are on our way. Oh, did I mention that the reason why I have to drive them to school is because Max and Jake were kicked off the bus for fighting with each other? Cus, that's kind of important too. I finally drop them off at school and of course honk and blow Isabel a kiss even though she begged to be dropped off a mile from school. Done! Now just 6 hours to myself and I look forward to doing it all over again tomorrow...

This is my morning commute, please feel free to let me know how yours was.

Hallelujah! Holy Shit where's the Tylenol!

Meet My Loving Dysfunctional Family

An introduction to my family is usually followed soon after by something obnoxious my kids do and an apology. My oldest, Isabel, is your average 14 year old that believes she is a princess and her family she lives with today stole her away from the royal palace when she was born. I can image she looks at me as some sort of trolling witch who's only purpose in life is to deny her access to Facebook and limit her cell phone usage. 

The middle, Max, is 12 years old and is a well-rounded kid. He does good in school and loves sports ...when he isn't in trouble at school which is not, everyday. We have a minor problem with obeying the rules here at the Weilk household. 

Our youngest, Jake, is not average for anything. He's not even your average odd-ball. At age 11, he believes he is destine to be the next wrestling heavy weight champion of the world. I believe he is destine to annoy his brother and sister as much as physically possible. Oh, and it's not Olympic wrestling either. It's the degenerate fake wrestling!!! I honestly would have no problem with Jake watching wrestling if he didn't go around school, friends houses, doctor's offices, and pretty much everywhere embarrassing with me and exclaim random wrestler sayings an 11 yr old should not say let alone even know.  All while he thrusts at his crotch and preforms high-flying wrestling moves from the top ropes of the furniture. All this while Max and Isabel are fighting over anything and everything! 

I can only imagine everyone seeing this must be thinking, “What trailer park are these people from?” My answer to that is it's called the Weilk Family Circus and we'll be here all week! 

And sorry about that...