Mama Magic

Once upon a time, an amazing magician(Scot Grassette)mystified and entertained a gaggle of 7 year olds and their parents at my son's birthday party. The "tricks" were really amazing, and left everyone wondering how in the world he pulled them off.

After everyone was gone, and the last of the cake crumbs were swept up, Scot was finished packing up, and was on his way out.

I had to know...

"Okay. Let's have it...how do you do it?"

"You really want to know?" He asked, as he walked toward me.

"Yes?" Did I? I started to get a little freaked out.

He came right up close(by the way, Scot is a dear friend of ours)and said, You REEEEEAALLLY want to know?"

"yes." I whispered. And waited for his answer.

"It's magic." he whispered back as he pulled a coin right the heck out of my ear.

I'll never forget that moment, that son-of-a-gun magician, and I think about it from time to time, when life gets so crazy, I wonder if there must be some sort of magic in order to pull off the millions of things we do in a day.

Like how I somehow "transport" myself around the house, well before 6am, get the little monsters fed, dressed, de-snotted, brushed, wiped-down, signed off, lunches wrapped and bagged and out the door. Then do the same for myself, somehow manage to apply eyeliner AND earrings(well, sometimes)AND shoes(except for once, I actually forgot shoes and didn't realize it until I was halfway to work)and still make it to work on time.

It must be magic.

MAMA MAGIC.

We all do it...we all at some point in the week wonder, "how am I going to fit it all in?"

School events.
Meetings.
Sports.
Work.
Kids.
Groceries.
Bills.

Not necessarily in that order.

But it always gets done.

Mama Magic.

My mom has it. My grandmother must have it...and now I think I must have it.

I have the ability to see and hear things that go on in my house that no-one else EVER hears...I hear the lightest of coughing in the middle of the night...the faintest of footsteps when one of them needs a drink of water...when Tyler is sneaking in the kitchen looking for hidden snacks, I can hear, almost bionically, his every move. No matter where I am in the house.

"How did you know I was in hee-yah?" He asked yesterday.

"Mama Magic, Tyler."

I can sense things, too..

"How did you know I always wanted Corn Pops?" He asked today as I was unloading groceries.

"Guess." I said, as I tried to hide the Oreos.

"Magic?" He asked.

"Yup. Mama Magic. Mamas always know."

"KIIIIKIIIIII...Mom has magic powers!!!" He went running and singing and yelling to his sister.

When I spy them teasing each other in the back seat, using my "special forces" rear-view mirror, I tell them its because of my magic powers that I can see them.

They totally buy it.

How else do we seamlessly pull of holidays? Not only do we manage to fulfil the hopes and dreams of talking doll-houses and impossible to find "Pokemon" games, but that darned Santa gets it wrapped and rolled under the tree every fricken year, and with minutes to spare! The Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, Leprechauns...all the result of what has to be "Mama Magic."

I wish I had the idea for this little rant a couple of weeks ago, around Mother's Day. But that particular day I was busy cleaning Mackenzie's carpet after she "frowed up" and trying to get Tyler to stay still for ten seconds so he would stop coughing. I wish my powers could magically clean yuckiness.

Today I had to be at work, at school, at a baseball game, grocery store and home for dinner, laundry, homework, and more work. Did I make it?

You Betcha.

Mackenzie, after one of her many "weepy" moments asked me how I always can make her tears go away so fast...

"It's Mama Magic." I told her.

"You're magic?" She sniffled.

"Yup. I have Mama Magic."

She just stared at me for a minute, and I waited for her to say something epic...

"I THOUGHT there was something about you that was weird."

awesome.

So the next time someone wonders aloud at you, asking, "how do you do it all?"

You can tell them the truth, like the immortal words of Scot Grassette,

And say,

"It's magic."


Thanks For Reading.

funny.crazy.love.

Crazy Road Constitution

Here are the rules and regulations for all who reside at, or visit the residence of 145 Crazy Road:

I the Mama, In order to form a less crazy household,Establish Justice, Ensure domestic tranquility, Provide for the health and happiness, Promote the General Welfare, Secure the Potential for a few minutes of peace each day, For Ourselves and Our Guests, Do Ordain and Establish this Constitution, For The Family and Friends of Crazy Road.

1)You have the freedom of speech, but no naughty words, or "bathroom talk" is permitted. I'm not a fool, I know you try to whisper and call each other names, like "stupid meanie" "poophead" and other bits of random profanity heard and copied after certain moments of frustration, but upon hearing such language, however funny it may be, you will face consequences.(See #4).

2)You must seize all activity, or complete whatever direction(i.e:"get your pajamas on right now," "let her hair go!" "stop fighting," "get back here," "this mess better be picked up in 5-4-3..." upon hearing "the countdown."

3)You should not ever whine or complain to me before I have had at least one FULL cup of coffee.

4)A few drops of hot-sauce is NOT considered cruel or unusual punishment. Remember that the next time you feel like repeating "di@*head," or any other words you may have heard on the bus.

5)You should understand that sliding down the stairs on the futon mattress is permittable, but not before 6am. And Tyler, even though whispering in my sleepy ear, "But Mama, it's so fwiggin fun!" is hilarious, your right was initially denied. You did it anyway. Not okay.(but still, funny).

6)Laughter is ALWAYS permitted, even if you have a mouthfull of milk.

7)You have the right to be in "comfy clothes" at any point in the day. Especially in yucky weather.

8)Farts are considered funny here at Crazy Road. With the understanding that they are not acceptable everywhere.

9)Please help me keep this place clean. Sheesh!

10)Snow days are considered holidays, and celebrated as such. Except in April. Then I'm just pissed. See #3.

11)Manners. Here and everywhere. Thank You.

12)Hugs, kisses and poochies are available to you at all times. UNLESS the door is closed to the bathroom. Then, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, just give me a minute.

13)Be respectful of others. If you are "hanging out" in Nick's room(and I know, it's cool)You are ABSOLUTELY NOT allowed to steal his Easter candy and proceed to eat it in his bed when he isn't there. That is a NO-NO.

14)Brush your teeth before bed, but do not GARGLE. I know Bup taught you, but until Bup comes over every night to wipe up the un-GODLY mess of toothpaste and water all over the walls, mirror, sink and floor, stop doing it.

15)Eat your dinner.

16)Do NOT answer the phone if the caller i.d. says "unknown" or "800 Service."

17)FLUSH.

18)Do not try to get me to like frogs. Don't tease me with "Kermit," Don't try to convince me that they are cute. And understand that if I see a mouse or other rodent in and/or around our home, I will scream and run. You will be left to fend for yourselves.

19)Know that you are loved unconditionally, and that there is nothing in the world you can't talk about, ask or wonder aloud about...except how babies are made...I'm just not ready for that.

20)You will have Twinkle-Twinkle sung to you until you are 30(Kiki), if you wish. You may also select any Christmas Carol to be sung at bedtime(Tyler)to you, 365 days a year. You will be provided with "Fresh" water at bedtime as well. And Nick, as long as you live under this roof, I will come in and say "Goodnight," and straighten your covers. I will also kiss you on your forehead. I don't care how old or how tall you are. You are still my baby.

21)Understand that Life here at Crazy Road is just that: CRAZY. But I promise to make every day fun. To keep you healthy and happy. To read to you and help you with homework, if necessary. Except math. Then you're on your own.

This Bill of Rights will be ammended as needed. By me. Because I am the Mama. And because I said so.

Thanks for Reading

funny.crazy.love

You Want Fries With That Shake?

"Good Morning.(cracklecracklecrackle)Welcome to Dunkin Donuts. Would you like to try a cheddar cheese, sesame glazed, bacon stuffed(crackle)bagel twist this morning?"

"No Thank You. I would like a medium coffee with just milk."

"Will that be hot or iced?"

"Hot, please."

"Would you like a flavor shot?"crackle.

"No. Just a plain coffee."

"Skim milk or regular?"

"Umm. Skim."

"No Sugar(crackle) or Splenda?"

"Nope."

"Would you like to add a muffin or donut this morning?"

"No Thanks." Sheesh.

"Would you like to try a chocolate frosted, coconut sprinkled, double toasted waffle-wich?"

"Nope. Just the java.

"Was that a medium hot coffee?"

"YES. A medium HOT coffee with just skim milk. NOTHING else."

"Please drive up."

"Really?" I felt like asking. "Mother May I? Can I just drive up and get my SIMPLE coffee?"

Today was FILLED with OPTIONS. Starting with my coffee.

Then while trying to order a birthday cake for Mackenzie.

"I need a marble cake for about ten people. I need it Tuesday morning if that is possible."

"Sure. What kind of frosting? Traditional or Whipped?"

"What's the difference?"

"Traditional is more dense...blahblahblah"
Is what I heard. It's FROSTING for goodness sake.

"Traditional is fine."

"How do you spell her name?"

Here we go...

"Macke..."

"Is that a big C or small?"

"Small."

Etcetera. Etcetera...

"Do you want a number 6 candle?"

"Sure."

"What color?"

"I don't know...green?"

"Do you want the lettering on the cake or on the border?"

"On the cake?"

"Would you like a double layer or sheet?"

And the questioning went on and on..

Then, later in the day, I decided to go and have my nails done. Kind of a Mother's Day treat for myself...

I was greeted by a young man wearing a surgical mask, as I know many nail techs do now. But I could barely understand him anyway, and the mask over his mouth was going to make for difficult communication. This happened once before and I wound up with a floral mural that resembled, um, "hooch" across my toes.

I sat in the chair he directed, and put my wallet and keys down.

In almost impossible to decipher English, I thought he asked, "pig alright?"

"Excuse me?"

"Pig ALRIGHT?"

"I don't understand."

He gestured to a plastic hand....

"OOOHHH! PINK AND WHITE?!"

I was so proud I finally understood.

"No thanks. Just a regular set."

"French manicure?"

"Nope. Color."

"Really? No French?" He seemed horrified.

"No. No FRENCH."

"You want design?"

What am I? Fourteen?

"No. No design." Here we go with the menu offerings...

"You want suncreen?"

Now I was being upsold, and I was no longer in the mood.

"No. I do not want ANY extras. Just color. JUST COLOR."

He hated me.

I was not too fond of him, either, but I was already wrist deep in Palmolive, and wasn't going anywhere.

All of these menu offerings have filtered into our life here at Crazy Road.

And it starts at 6:45 am every.single.morning.

"Mom. Do we have bagels?"

"I think so."

"Did you get regular cream cheese or did you get the 'light' stuff?"

"It's regular."

"Mama? Can I have waffles?"

"Yes, Tyler."

"Can I have the ones that are cut in strips? Not the round ones?

"I guess."

"Mama?"

"Hi, Mackenzie."

"Can I have cinnamon toast? But with more sugar than cinnamon. And can you cut off the crust?"

As I shuffle around the kitchen, I realize that I alone have created this "menu" mentality for my kids. They  understand that there are always options. Lots of them.

Tyler will not eat pork chops. So as an "option" I offer chicken nuggets.
Mackenzie will not even entertain the idea of putting peppers into her mouth. As an "option," she can pick them out. And now I barely make anything with peppers. Or pork chops.
Nick barely likes any meat. But he's twelve. He can choke stuff down. I know he won't throw a fit. Thank GOD for Nick right now.

And they know they have options. They've been to McDonalds. They've been with me when going through the drive-thru. They see and hear millions of options and offerings...and guess what? They now expect options. Menu selections, if you will...I know. I know. MYFAULT.

I don't remember, as a child, being offered options. We ate what was put in front of us. No questions. No whining. We didn't KNOW back then that there were options. There was no menu at our house.

When we went to McDonalds, we got a burger and fries.
When they added Chicken Nuggets to the menu, It was National News. Now you can get gourmet salads, gourmet lattes...I don't even know if they still make cheeseburgers.

And at Dunkin Donuts, You could order coffee and a donut. That was about it. Now its like ordering an Olympic event.

"I'll have a half/caf/half hot/half cold/part skim/vanilla twist with a double shot of caramel and half packet of raw sugar..."

It's out.of.hand.

I know I sound old when I say, "It used to be so simple."

"Buy One Get One Free."
"Do you want whipped cream?"
"If you spend another $10 you get a free gift!"
"Do you want a girl toy or a boy toy?"
"Would you like a hot apple pie, today?"
"White or Wheat?"

humminahumminahummina.

So many options.

Let's keep it simple, people.

And No. I don't want a pig, ALRIGHT?

Alright.

Thanks for Reading.

funnycrazylove.