So yes, my vow to not discuss weight loss has been broken as all new year-type vows should.

The subject this time?

My ass again.

See my ass? It is rather large at my rather large weight.

But before? Small ass.

No, I’m not bragging. Just wait, you’ll see.

My weight gain starts in my face. My face people! The absolute worse place to gain.

Head shots? Nasty.

What is the one part of your body you look at every day in the mirror if for nothing more than to brush your teeth or apply a bit of lipstick? Your face.

So?

I’m continuously confronted with the fat. The fat face. The fat neck. Yes! I gain weight in my neck! I know, you’re so jealous right now. You too wish you could gain weight in your neck and look like a wrestler.

Anyway, I have now lost the 5 pound bag of flour. And where did I lose that weight?

My face?

No.

My neck?

Hahahaha. I know you’re not fooled. That would be a no.

My ass.

Even better is that instead of making it more narrow? The bag o’flour has slid off my backside.

So now?

Wide, FLAT ass.

Attractive, no?

NO.

It seems the injuries required of a family of 4 boys and 1 klutzy mom are catching up to us.

We now have another broken finger. This time it is the oldest.

How?

Skiing?

No.

Slipping on ice?

Hahahaha, no. It is warm and the daffodils are sprouting here – freak weather.

It was…

….

Football at recess.

And once again we made a child with a broken bone wait to see a physician.

Yes, it’s true. After school I called our doctor and they couldn’t schedule us until 6:45pm.

So what to do?

I took him to Hebrew school. I mean really. What else was I to do?

So while I’m surprised it’s taken this long for the injuries to start rolling in?

Not so surprised at the fact that we’ve had 2 broken fingers in approximately 4 months.

I figure we’re good for a couple more months now.

… that I’ve been listening to the Moulin Rouge Soundtrack and the kids love the song Lady Marmalade?

Yes, a song about a prostitute. Something seems so wrong about that.

And yet?

I feel confident they have no idea of the subject matter.

In fact, just yesterday Zach was dancing around singing “Solar system, solar system…” instead of “Soul sister, soul sister, better get that dough sister.”

I also seem to recall dancing around to very inappropriate songs as a child. Did I have any idea what I was singing (if we may call what I did singing) about?

No. I did not.

Anyone remember Feel Like Makin’ Love by Bad Company?

One of my favorites. I was somewhere around the age of 7-9. While I did sing the actual words? I had no idea what I was talking about. Naive, I know.

Let’s say it together… IN.A.PPRO.PRI.ATE.

I heard on the news this a.m. that a woman in Maryland was arrested for driving with her three young children in the trunk.

Now of course this caught my attention. And no, I wasn’t appalled. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s not something I would do. (besides the minivan doesn’t exactly make this worthwhile) It is tempting though. I could see where someone would do it.

And…

AND she said the children ASKED to ride in the trunk.

If any of you without children are thinking, “No way?”

You would be so wrong.

Ask any mother and I bet she tells you the children have asked to ride in the trunk. Okay, maybe not if you have girls. I wouldn’t know. But I know my boys would LOVE a chance to ride in the trunk. And yes, they have asked.

All of you outraged parents – picture the scene:

“Mooooom. I want to ride in the trunk.”

“No sweetie, it’s not safe.”

“Pleeeease? Pleeease? Pleeeease?”

“Just for a little bit?”

whine, whine, etc, etc. times 3 children.

In the parental fantasy you pull over throw them in the trunk and drive the rest of the way to your destination.

In the parental nightmare you get in an accident or pulled over by the police. This is what is really keeping you from letting them ride in the trunk – which is otherwise a win-win situation.

This woman let the fantasy win. Then her nightmare came true.

And I saw the video of them getting out of the trunk. Two of the kids were not all that young. They were all perfectly fine. And luckily mom only got community service. Because really, would sending her to jail serve any real purpose? Would it help the kids at all? No. She made a bad judgment call. Let the kids get to her. She will never do such a thing again. I firmly believe this. Her kids will probably never ask to do anything so stupid again. And one, “remember when I was arrested for letting you do something stupid?” comment and I’m sure they’d stop dead in their tracks.

What do you think?

Yesterday shall be known hereforth as The Day of Tears.

And amazingly? They did not include my tears.

We began our day innocently enough. All children get up and ready in time for their buses.

But wait! All four children miss their respective buses. ALL. FOUR. CHILDREN.

This is a first.

This is also the start (9am) of our Day of Tears (DoT from here on forward) as the youngest little despises getting a late pass.

Why?

We do not know.

Yes. I have asked. No answers come forth only more tears.

And then there is the picking up of the older two for their dental appointments (11am).

Tears! From the oldest.

Why?

He is now going to miss a pizza party. A. PIZZA. PARTY.

An offer of taking him out for pizza after the appointment is met with what? More tears.

Why did I not KNOW there was a pizza party at this exact time? He MUST have told me. (uh. no.) I am SO CRUEL and I should read his mind in the future.

The tears continue all the way to the dentist and into the office.

After school (3:30)…

Many tears.

Why?

There is touching and hitting and pushing and taking of toys and more and more until my ears bleed and I collapse under the weight of the injustice.

And then 3 mins. before pick up for gymnastics (4pm) there is injury of gymnastic bound child.

What did he do you ask?

He is jumping and landing in splits and after many times of this his leg rolls in and he pulls a groin muscle. The pain. The limping. The cancellation of yet ANOTHER gymnastic class for which we pay approximately 1/2 the national debt every month.

But wait! The DoT is not over yet.

I shoo the children into the car for swimming lessons (6:30pm). One and two at a time. GET IN THE CAR.

We arrive. It is windy. Very windy. And cold. Oh, and finally the snow we have been missing all winter. And what is this? Someone is cold. And crying.

Why?

The 7 y/o has not worn a coat. NO COAT. And it is my fault. I did not TELL him to wear a coat in the freezing cold. In the snow and wind. I never SAID put on your coat. So again. MY. FAULT. And he is COLD.

And the swimming goes fine and the children spend approximately 6 hours in the locker room showering and I do not care because… no one is crying!

And then we leave. And again… no crying. Then we arrive home and they are all HUNGRY. And I feed them because? Please. GOD. NO. MORE. CRYING.

And then teeth brushing and pottying and bed. Glorious bed.

And then the 2 littles are out of bed. And scared. Of animals jumping out of the walls because, “we are researching animals at school and now they keep jumping out of the walls of my room. And I am scared. And you must lay with me or I will cry.”

But! LOST is on. And it is past your bedtime. And JUST. GO. TO. SLEEP. ALREADY.

And then they all slept.

**EDITED TO ADD: It should have read… And we shall PRETEND they all went right to sleep. Or, And then I duct taped them all to their beds and watched LOST.**