I have been really busy lately. Like, so busy that I don’t call my friends, or my dad, or even the dentist when I have a toothache so wicked that I want to knock out my molar with a sledgehammer.

That busy.

My mom has been a huge help to me. For the last few weeks, she has taken one, or both, of my kids to her house almost every day. She usually picks up my son in the morning while my tween daughter hides in her room, then she drops him back off in the early evening. Even though the BlogHer Conference is over, I am still catching up, so he went over there again yesterday.

When she dropped him off after dinner, she told me that they had just had an interesting conversation. Although my mom knows my son is famous for making inappropriate comments, she asked him, “Do you think I’m pretty?”

My filterless boy replied, “Half and half. You’re half not-pretty because you’re old.”

“What about the other half?”, my mom questioned.

And, he proved his ability to manipulate when he said, “The other half is pretty because I love you.”

I have never seen anyone give a simultaneous insult and compliment quite so well.

For the record, today is my mom’s 77th birthday, so feel free to tell her how awesome she is for putting up with me for all of these years. You can do that now, BECAUSE SHE JUST GOT INTERNET…which is really like MY birthday present, because I don’t have to print my blog posts anymore.

Please, don’t tell her she is half-awesome. You can leave that to my kid.

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This past Saturday and Sunday mornings were spent running a lot of errands with my two kids. Two kids who, apparently, don’t understand that it’s possible to ride in a back seat without constant bickering and occasional sibling slapping.

After hours upon hours of listening to them argue, my head popped off.

Okay, my head didn’t pop off, but it felt like it would. Maybe that is why I suddenly yelled, “STOPPPPPPP!!!” You know, to relieve all of that pressure.

It was quiet for a moment, then my son said, “I want a new mom.”

I replied, “Why would you say that?”

He said, “Because you yelled.”

After I apologized for *ahem* raising my voice because of two days worth of constant squabble that would make even the most solid brain turn to mush, or make dogs howl, or make ears bleed, I told my son that he shouldn’t wish for a new mom because he might get a mom who yells more, or one who doesn’t read to him, or make him dinner, or love him so much, or…well the list went on and on.

None of that phased him. He was determined to be rid of me.

So, I did what any mom whose head almost popped off would do. I pulled over to an old, run-down house and told my son to go knock on the door and ask for a new mom.

He looked at the home, with its overgrown bushes, tall grass and covered windows and asked, “Can we go see if there’s a new mom at a better house?”

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You may remember how, recently, my mom called my niece’s Volvo, a “vulva“. And, a few days ago she was telling me a story about my oldest sister getting seasick when she called a catamaran, a “Cameron”. Like my sister was floating around on a person’s back.

Yesterday, my mom was telling me about a pair of shoes.

We were sitting at her kitchen table when she mentioned that she got some new clogs. She was trying to describe them to me when she finally said, “Oh, you know, they’re those Gators that you and the kids have.”

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One way I can be sure that summer is coming to its beautiful end is the addition of socks to the laundry.

My son has run around in Crocs since school let out. Actually, they’re the same pair of Crocs he wore last summer. He’s a slow grower. He wore a pair of 3T shorts the other day. He’s eight.

My daughter wore her black, hand-me-down sandals all summer. She most definitely did not wear the cute, brown-leather flip-flops, for which we went back and forth to the store because the size wasn’t quite right. You know, the ones that cost actual dollars.

I get used to laundry sans socks when the kids are out of school; other than softball and baseball socks, which are knee-high and black or knee-high and red. Meaning…the pair is easy to make.

My kids wear uniforms to school and their ankles have to be covered. So now, I will be carrying around a lot of socks until next June. I tote them up and down the stairs because I can’t find the mate and keep waiting for it to turn up. This is my laundry basket and the socks I carry around week to week.

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