Orlando fun

Well, it has been quite a while since I have been consistent with the blog, but I thought I'd update with some pictures from Orlando, which was definitely a highly anticipated and expectations-met kind of vacation!

Turnabout is fair play...

We had some errands to run before we left on vacation, and it was supposed to be 120 degrees, so I told the kids to be ready to leave when I got home from yoga so we could beat the heat.  After I finished my yoga class, I looked at my phone and I had 4 missed phone calls from home.  A little worried, I called home and Gabrielle answered the phone with "WHERE ARE YOU???"
Me:   "I'm just leaving yoga." 
Gabrielle:  "You're more than an HOUR LATE!"
Me:   "No I'm not, 7 o'clock yoga gets over at 8:30, it's 8:35, I'll be home in 10 minutes."
Gabrielle:  "I thought you were going to 5:30 yoga.  I was worried about you."
Me (outloud):  "There is no 5:30 am yoga on the weekends, 7 is the earliest."
Me (in my head):  "Now remember this feeling when you are late for your curfew in a few years, so you know how worried your dad and I will be!!!!"

Is there such a thing??

So I was filling out paperwork for a new position today, and part of the packet is a 4 page criminal history self disclosure.  (Think 4 pages of "have you ever been arrested for...") and after all the usual suspects i.e. child abuse, sexual exploitation of a minor, murder, shoplifting etc,  I get to "misdemeanor deadly assault".  REALLY??  How is deadly assault EVER a misdemeanor??

No awards for me

And so here it is, less than 2 weeks after Mother's Day, and I have once again lost that elusive "Mother of the Year" award.  Let me explain.

We were in Flagstaff for a soccer tournament, and Gabrielle woke up stating her skin ached, she felt warm, she had a headache, and generally didn't feel well.  She decided to go down to breakfast although said she didn't think she could eat.  Evie, Gabrielle and I all went down, and the girls both made waffles in the waffle iron.  (Their favorite reason to stay in a hotel...the homemade waffles at the continental breakfast!)

Evie took about 2 bites of her waffle, and came to me, leaning her head on my shoulder stating her stomach hurt and she didn't feel good.  I kinda brushed her off, and as she got more insistent that she didn't feel good, I told her to stop faking, that just because Gabrielle didn't feel good she didn't have to fake being sick too.

Fast forward 15 minutes and Evie is puking.  Oooooppsss.  Sorry honey.  :(

There IS a light at the end of the tunnel

And we are seeing it more and more often!  Our sweet Gabrielle is returning to us more frequently than the grumbly, just-as soon-bite-your-head-off-as-say-good-morning one who has blessed our house for the past two years!

Archaic mom...

In one of our ongoing discussions about why Gabrielle needs a phone...

Gabrielle:  "I can't even call anyone over spring break because I don't have a phone."
Mom:  "Feel free to use the house phone."
Gabrielle:  "I don't have anyone's phone number."
Mom:  "You can't ask for a phone number because you don't have a phone??  I'm confused."
Gabrielle:  "What am I supposed to do?  Write it down on a piece of paper?  That's so 10 years ago."

Identity crisis.

I have become accustomed to being greeted with "Hi Tyler's mom" or "Hi Gabrielle's mom".  (For some reason, Evie's friends all seem to remember my name and I am either Ms. Lori or Mrs. Arseneault to them.  Sometimes the pronunciation is not spot on, but it's always close.)  I apparently now have a new identity.  I have become "Mrs. Coach", which makes me laugh because I COMPLETELY understand not remembering someone's name--I am the worst at remembering names.  And due to our crazy soccer schedules and the fact that Dennis is Tyler's coach, which means I am at Gabrielle's game if there is a conflict, I am frequently not present at Tyler's games and practices.  I get that it's hard to remember a name of someone you see infrequently.  But seriously,  "Mrs. Coach"??

Dodged a bullet!

I took Gabrielle shopping for her Valentine's Day dance, which is a formal dance.  She picked out a few dresses, and I held up a few, showing them to her for her approval (I did have a couple that passed muster!).  Into the dressing room we went, and she tried on the first one, which hung off of her by at least 3 inches.  Back into the dressing room and out she came in a dress she had picked out.  It was one shouldered, sequined, clingy, and short, and she looked amazing in it...too amazing for a 13 year old.  As my mind was running with "how am I going to say "no" without causing a scene right here in the dressing room?" she looked in the mirror and said "There's no way this will ever pass dress code" and sashayed back into the dressing room to take it off and try on the next one.  PHEW!!!