Sourpuss

Hubby:  Dammit, I have a screaming headache.

Me:  Well go take a Tylenol and relax.

Hubby:  Nah, it's just a sinus headache.

Me:  Does it matter what kind of headache?  A headache is a headache.  Tylenol will help.

Hubby:  *grumble, grumble, complain, whine, grumble*

This is the crap I put up with.  Seriously.  My husband is all about whining about being in some sort of pain, but refuses to do anything about it.  Nope.  Not that guy.  He's such a macho man.  So annoying.  

As much as I love my hubby, he's such a knuckle dragging neanderthal.  Who whines like a kitten when he's in any sort of pain or discomfort.  Yeah, I'd like to see him in labor.  He'd never make it.  

He's a hunting, fishing, gathering, meat eating manly man.  Grrrrrrrrrr, *fart*, grumble, *burp*, grumble.  Dutch ovens are his specialty, and he can fart winds that would put the big bad wolf to shame.  He'll huff and he'll puff and he'll blow your house down.  

But dammit, I love the grumpy old fart.  He's a good father, and husband.  He provides well, and does things that most men would never do in order to keep his family happy.  He puts family first.  He's a sourpuss, but he's my sourpuss.  I wouldn't change him for the world.  

Hockey Stink

Hockey gear. What can I say? It's heavy, and smells. And by smell, I don't mean a slight farty smell. I mean peal the paint off the walls, burn out the nose hair, singe the eyebrows kind of smell. And there is a lot of gear. More than I realized until I started doing the hockey mom thing. Socks, jerseys, pads (etc) you can just throw in the wash. But what about those pads and helmet? When I first started doing the hockey mom thing 3 years ago, I thought I was doomed to just febreze those items. Not anymore. Here are a few tips to make that stink a little less odoriferous.

Jerseys, pants, pads, and gloves can be thrown into a washing machine, with a cup of white vinegar and a cup of baking soda(along with a little of your regular detergent).This will typically remove all bacteria and odor without harming the equipment. It is best to use a front-loading non-agitating machine, which will clean the equipment without banging it around for the remainder of the wash cycle. The vinegar will work to clean and disinfect, while the soda will deodorize the gear. Let air dry, and repeat as necessary to keep gear looking clean and fresh.

Helmets, obviously, can't be placed in the washing machine. So what you do is in a spray bottle, mix two cups water, one cup white vinegar, and a few drops liquid dish detergent. Add a spoonful of baking soda, and spray directly onto the helmet. Wipe away with a damp cloth. Let air dry.

And never forget:

Hockey mom is not a job.  It's a lifestyle!

Ok, so let's start from the beginning.  I'm a mom.  To be more specific, I'm a hockey mom of 3 boys.  Yeah, wrap your head around that one.  Now add to that a farting husband and a male dog named Oscar, and all the awesomeness that is being the only female in this house and you have my life.  Is it easy?  Hell no.  Is it worth it?  Well...yeah.  In all honesty, I was disappointed at first, after each sonogram told me I was having a boy...and another boy...and another boy.  To tell you the truth, I cried.  A lot.  All I wanted was one girl.  Someone I could share my likes and dislikes with.  Someone to go to artsy movies, libraries, museums and mani/pedi excursions.  You know.  A kindred spirit.  Looking back on those feelings, I was completely INSANE.  I have no flipping clue what the heck I would do with a girl now.  I thank everything holy that I didn't have that girl I longed for.  Yeah, I'll never be the mother of the bride, or get to do all those things I wanted to do before.  But now I get so much more than that with my boys.  For starters, no drama.  Yep, that's a big one for me.  Hate that drama.  I also don't have to worry about shopping and fashion and the expense of it all.  I'm one of the few girls on the planet, it seems, who hates shopping.  I abhor it to my very soul.

I won't ever get the PMS fits, glitter, princesses, fairy wings, and ballet slippers.  Nope.  I get grass stains, mud in the hair, bugs in pockets, sticky kisses, farts, belching, nose picking (and eating), non toilet flushing, skid mark on the underwear producing boys!  To say those boys are constant motion is an understatement.  They never stop moving.  Ever.  But they are the lights of my life and I wouldn't hesitate to give up my life for theirs.  All moms can agree.

So lets meet my little gems:

This is Christopher.  He's 14, and a little bit of a nerd.  He's a freshman in high school, and can sometimes be a lazy bump on a log.  But I guess, what teenager isn't?  He's girl crazy, and is obsessed with checking himself out in the mirror.  This is the kid who stands in front of a mirror, in his underwear flexing his "guns".  Normally, that wouldn't be a problem.  However, be only weighs about 89 lbs soaking wet.  So his "guns" are more like the branches of a dead tree, and his legs look like they came off a grasshopper.  He loves Star Wars, aliens, Lord of the Rings, video games, comic books, the Legend of Zelda, and all that stuff I totally have no clue about.  He attends comic-con every year, and begs me to drop him off down the street from school so his friends don't see me.  Ahhhhh, teenagers.  But he also secretly loves to cuddle.  He's an artist, who says he wants to be an animator for Disney when he grows up.  He also wants to be a tattoo artist on the side.  I'm cool with that.  It's honest work.

This is Blaine.  He's 8, a 3rd grader, and we call him "the beagle".  We call him that because when he gets angry (which can be quite often), he lets out a howling yell that really does sound like a beagle.  When he does that, I always tell him to "quit his beagling", which makes him turn beet red, and start grunting in anger.  He's got a temper from the dark side, and honestly, sometimes I think he's going to grow up to be Darth Vader.  See what happens when you have nerdy children?  I think he looks like a blond Harry Potter.  Temper aside, this one is quite remarkable, as he is 100% athlete AND a straight A student to boot.  Every sport he tries, he excels at.  He chose hockey, and has decided he wants to play in the NHL when he grows up.  He also is the most accident prone of the 3.  Just after his 2nd birthday. he broke his leg.  A few months after that, he pulls a dresser down on top of himself, and put a dent in his forehead.  About a year after that, he "got in a fight" with one of my moms giant potted plants (that sucker weighed about 200 lbs), split open his eyebrow and needed major stitches.  Those are just some of the most significant injuries, and he is the reason I'm thankful every day we have health insurance. 

This is Noah.  He's 6, and in 1st grade.  He's a cuddle bug of the highest degree.  He is so lovable he would hug a rabid raccoon, or a raging bull.  He has no fear of things that are actually dangerous (like traffic, or jumping in a pool unsupervised), but he has a desperate fear of little things (like bugs and ET the extraterrestrial).  He's about as graceful as a baboon in a china shop, and trips on flat surfaces all the time.  He's also brilliant, surprising his teachers with his knowledge of random things (like volcanoes, space and math).  He says he wants to work for NASA, because he finds space "fascinating" (his words).  He is also the biggest clown, and is the one who will probably be the subject of many a blog.  At his preschool graduation ceremony, the teachers called each kid individually up on stage to present them with a "diploma".  Every single child was shy, and tried to hide behind their mothers, or didn't want to go up at all.  Noah, on the other hand, ran up on stage, waving his hands in the air yelling "I'M A ROCK STAR!!!".  This is also the child who waited until he was buck naked, about to get in the shower, to show us the yoga move downward dog.  That's a sight I hope to soon forget.

Can't forget the hubby.  This is Josh, and he's...well, he's old and grumpy.  He farts, sometimes on purpose, and sometimes he claims he doesn't even get a knock on the door (aka, surprise farts).  He burps.  He has an overactive bladder, because I've never seen a person drink so much water in my life.  He dislikes crowds, and he has a strange obsession with all things pumpkin (candles, coffee, pie, bread, everything).  He drives me nuts, but I love him dearly, and usually just ignore his grouchy persona.

Last, but not least, this is Oscar (also known as DOG).  He's clingy, whiny and weird.  He follows me around the house and lays on my feet when I sit on the sofa.  What else can I say about him?

Now, most of my posts won't be as long as this one, as this is just an introduction to my family.  From here on out, it will be funny stories, maybe favorite recipes, hockey mom tips, and whatever else might come out.  I don't always have a brain to mouth filter, so I can't guarantee the results.