Funny First Days and the Proof is in the Photos

Today my three boys all went off to school.  

It was the easiest first day of school for everyone.

It made me smile the whole drive home.  

I also now have time to write more and share it with you.  I am sorting some of my old stories from the journal I have kept since we began our family and I came across a funny from Mitchell when he and his twin brother Avery were in kindergarten.

My husband Jim came home from work and…

Jim, said very enthusiastically, “How was kindergarten boys?”

Mitchell, said with a very grown up matter-of-fact manner …“Dadda, I think there is more yelling than learning going on in Kindergarten.

First day of school – Kindergarten

Avery and Mitchell’s First Day of School – 7th Grade

(note our dog always wiggles her way into photos)

Peter’s First Day – Kindergarten

First Day – This Morning

I may not go back to pick them up.

I’m joking!

If I am not, I am sure it will make the news.

Abbie Gale

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Our Most Embarrassing School Art, To Date Anyway

I am running a few of my favorite stories this week.  I will be back soon with new stories, that is if I don’t end up in jail in NYC.  My boys said they won’t miss me much when I am gone since I make them unload the dishwasher.  I reminded them that I wash and load the dishes and so they will have to load as well while I am away.  

Anyone willing to bail my naked ass out of jail?  I know I will be naked because with two drinks and I am drunk and three…NAKED and jail seems like the logical progression for four.  I hear the girls at BlogHer like to party at the conferences, crap.  

Your dad is a BONE doctor!  How can you NOT know there is NOT a bone in it?

I don’t know.  They are sweet.  They are cute boys.  They win classroom awards like, “Most Conscientious”.  These are the only reasons I can think of that the teachers don’t call me when my boys do a project in school and they...just look at the picture.

There are reasons I am not a PTO mom, or a scissor mom, (the ones that come to school to cut things out).  The reasons are because my kids think its funny to make a pasta skeleton and put macaroni testicles and rotinini pee-pee and spaghetti BONE?  I asked what the spaghetti was and he said, “That’s the bone in the pee-pee“.

I know I clearly have more to worry about, judging from this picture, but….




I take a few deep breaths.  I put it into perspective.  There are three types of pasta that makes up the noodle guys junk (oh and we know it’s a noodle GUY, right)  but the dude has no feet.

For all of you with girls I want to remind you that little boys are different.  For little boys, that area is a toy that stays with you.  To quote one of my kids when they were three, “When can I get one of these BALLS out so I can see what they look like?”  Your daughter is putting shoes on her Barbie’s feet right now and I have an anatomically (in)correct foot-less pasta dude on my fridge.

-Abbie, All that makes you smile, laugh, think, love, cry, and hopefully cry laughing.

The Difference Between Mothers and Sons

This is what I do with hydrangeas from the yard.

Cute, right?

Get it?  It is an ice cream cone.  

Even cooler is that they are all from the same bush is our yard.

The boys brought the stalk you see below, into the house yesterday and asked me if they can cut more of them off of the bush.

I am perplexed as there aren’t any fresh blossoms.  I also don’t cut them back this far because they will bloom next year off of this years growth.

They wanted the long spent hydrangea branches from the yard to sharpen them into spears and arrows.


This is the difference between Moms and Sons.

Time to get out of the house.

Apple camp today!

Learning to make movies!  Peter would rather be sharpening hydrangeas.


(Just realized you can see our white suburban in the window)

“That is Because Their Parents Don’t Love Them.”

“That is because their parents don’t love them.” -Me. *(See Below)

“That is NOT true.  Caleb has a TV in his room and his mom loves him.” -Peter.

“I happen to know, because I am a parent and parents tell each other their secrets, that the only reason you put a TV in your kid’s bedroom is to get rid of your kids.” -Me again.

The Family Room is Good Enough

“Well, Mrs East must REALLY want to get rid of Caleb because they put a flatscreen on his wall and hooked up an XBOX.”  -Peter

“They are also, obviously, not concerned about him developing mashed potato brains if he can play video games in his bedroom.” -Yep, me again.

When it is 95 Degrees Outside I Have No Issues WIth a Video Game That You Move To

“Mom, no one can really get mashed potato brains because there is no such thing as mashed potato brains and why don’t you ever want to get rid of me?” -Peter.

“Peter, go to you room and read a book. See, I love you AND I want to get rid of you” -Me.

Keep Digging Peter

* I threw all other parents under the bus out of frustration he wouldn’t stop asking for a television in his bedroom.  Each child is different as is each circumstance.  I am not one to judge, as I know I am doing the best I can, this day.  So if you have put a TV in your kids bedroom, I am sure you still love them and know that our boys have a “kids living room” with a TV in it in the center of their bedrooms.  I think a TV in their rooms would be redundant. 🙂


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Creek Tips


I love it when I come across something my boys have done that I didn’t know about.

Here is a video our Peter shot at one of his special critter catching locations.

The walk to the creek the time prior revealed a snake.  It looks like he went back with our big black rubber snake to leave out in hopes it would scare away any snakes that were venomous, while he could look for newts.

Thought you might enjoys…

My story, just yesterday, about same black snake and one of its evil doings.

How To Tell Your Lawn Guy You Are Very Sorry


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The Trouble With Trends

I will only let our son wear “this” at home and when no one else is around.

The trouble with trends is they come back.  They are cyclical.  A swing of a pendulum and we go from neons to pastels and from pointy high heels to round toe ballet shoes.

Or a trend can come back because an eight year-old boys saw a picture of a guy with a ponytail and he thought he looked tough.

Peter brought this tassel he found in a drawer and asked me to stick it to his head with one of my “things.”  When I asked him what he meant he held it to the nape of his neck and said,

“Here, like the way some boys have.”

I deserve this after I put my hair “feathers” onto unsuspecting people at a concert, (and then took a picture.)

Are there “good taste” camps that I can send my boys off to?

I think a camp that teaches our kids good taste such as…

– Watching Sponge Bob will ruin any future ability you may have to create anything of beauty.

– Listening to Niki Minage may possibly cause your ears to not be able to distinguish between a cat dying, a jack hammer, or actual singing.

– Crazy hair will only cause you to have 5 years of your life being unable to prove due to picture frames spontaneously combusting upon having to hold that ugly a$$ photo of you from 1989.

– “That song” you think will define your summer and generation will actually be just another summer song that the record producers release with planned calculations and you were simply putty in the radio stations hands.

– That you shouldn’t take any new trend too far or invest in it too heavily, (ehhhem…tattoos) because most things go terribly out of style the stronger that they were in style.

I guess I will just let my boys be who they are and try silly things when they are kids, even if it is wearing curtain trim in your hair.

I shaved the left side of my head in seventh grade.  I looked like Richard Simmons after being hazed at a fraternity house.

I try my best to teach our boys to be who they are and march to their own drum.

I have been repeating this quote a lot lately with twin twelve year-olds…

“Be Who You Are and Say What You Feel Because 
Those Who Mind Don’t Matter 
and Those Who Matter Don’t Mind.”
– Dr. Seuss

So here I am housebound until my child who thinks he is Antonio Banderas moves onto something else he thinks makes him cool.  😉

Thanks for letting me share with you and I hope I made you smile, laugh, think, love, cry or cry laughing.


Frog Hunting With Kids During Summer Evenings

Frog and toad hunting has been this weeks evening pastime.

It is HOT outside during the day and this gives our boys something fun to do when it cools off.

Access to ponds or creeks…We have both in our backyard and many more on the golf course across the street.

Transportation…We walk or use the critter mobile golf cart.

Lights…We use headlights and flashlights and even golf cart headlights.

Nets…Do we have nets!  We have short-handled and long-handled and large holed and small holed.  We are even willing to reach in.

My boys tell me this is a “smaller” bullfrog.

Container…We use a big tote.

Sense of humor…Peter likes to take “frog orders” before he heads out.  I say I would like a green tree frog and his brothers might say a bullfrog.  Peter especially likes to watch people open the tote and see how many he has brought home.  Below is poor Mitchell not expecting dad to pull giganto bullfrog out.

An ability to say goodbye…With the hopes of seeing you again in the pond behind our home.  This took years to perfect as saying goodbye to “caught critters” is very hard for little boys.

Peter may have been kissing this little guy on a dare from big brothers.  

Big brothers can be especially cantankerous.

Camera…It is much easier to say goodbye if you have a photo to remember your new friends.

Potato brush and soap…Have it at every entrance to the house for the “Frog Hunters” to use before entering their home!

Thanks for letting me share,

“All that makes you, smile, laugh, think, love, cry or cry laughing.”


How to Stifle Education with Cocktails and Other Threats

I have a husband, Jim.  A very, very smart husband. How smart you ask?

Not too smart, he married me!

I remind him of the above mentioned fact if he complains about things I might do.

I tell him he…

– Should just find my annoying habits endearing, it would be easier for him AND me since I am getting too old to change for the better.

– Married me AND that means he married my taste and that means no decorator but he may hire a housekeeper, (so that I have more time to decorate.)

– Needs to remember that he married me knowing that whatever has made him mad is also probably one of the reasons he wanted to marry me.

The list goes on and evolves so as to satisfy my ever-changing needs.

Jim and I were on our way this week to his latest graduation.  He went back for additional training a year ago.  He just completed a fellowship in musculoskeletal imaging.  We debated not even going to the ceremony.

I told him we had to.  I wanted to be sure that there would be no excuse for any FUTURE graduations such as, “I feel unfulfilled missing my 43 graduation ceremony.  I need to go back to school, for more training or redirect my career path” crap.

I threw on a skirt and a shirt and a pair of heels that were chewed up from another night of actually having fun in them.

The last graduation I bought a new gown, shoes, jewelry, flew in Jim’s mom and bought her all the same.  We stopped to buy flowers for his program director.  We hired a sitter.  It was a night out at the “fancy” country club all kelly green, pink and oriental vases.

We pulled out of our driveway this week shouting out the window to the kids to make themselves a burrito.  We were heading to the same pink and green country club.  We were both far less enthusiastic.

I sat in the front seat looking for some sunblock to slap on my dry knees and announced, “I am getting tanked tonight.”

I liked saying it just to force the mental image of seventy-five academic physicians, residents, fellows and their spouses eating baked Alaska while I am falling down drunk.

Jim says, “Really?  You are planning this ahead of time?”

I had and I was.

Me, “Yes.  It is the only way I can be sure you won’t go back for more training.  It will have to be epic.”

Jim, “Awesome.”

I knew he wasn’t doubting that I was actually thinking about this.

Here is what really happened.

I may have sat at a table for ten and been one of only two women and still somehow managed to bring up “Fifty Shades of Grey.”  I then tried guessing which of the men looked tired enough to deem that their wives were reading it or had recently read it.  This is no small feat considering most radiologists look tired from lack of sunlight and interaction with humans, I may have also mentioned this.

I may have told my husband’s subspecialty department director that his nickname for Jim sucked, (R.J. for “Research Jim”) and that it should be “Antwone” and then went on to tell him why he should call him that.

The program director somehow managed to bring up my full first and last name in her speech and included an “Abbie quote” with full body impersonation from six years ago in this very same room and at the very same graduation ceremony.  She then asked where I was in the room and I had the full attention of all of the docs and their “others.”

This is fantastic!  I have only had half a drink and I am “infamous.”  I don’t need to keep drinking!  Poor Jim just looks at me while I am smiling back at him.

I didn’t think it was that memorable but I guess shouting out, “Yayyy BABY!  WE GOT FURNITURE!” when the program presents your husband with one of those “collegiate” chairs with his name on a plaque with “Chief Resident” may have been the most exciting thing other than not having baked Alaska for the, (what is now my fifth) graduation dinner desert.

(Pretend there is a picture here from this weeks graduation.  See, I told you we were less than enthusiastic.  I don’t even have a picture!  I have photos of EVERYTHING including my kids funny poops.  Kidding, but I do have one and if your lucky I will share it with you one day.)

I only told one other person my goal of total inebriation with the end result being embarrassing Jim from any future higher education aspirations.  I looked over at her and said, “Well I guess I can just rest on my laurels and not have a hangover tomorrow.”

You know what though?

I reminded myself that for all the reasons that I tell Jim he should accept me I realized I have to accept Jim.  I love him because he loves learning.  I love him because when we were eighteen and at his high school graduation party his aunt asked him what he was going to do with is life and he said, “I am going to be a doctor.”

I may have spit Coke out of my nose when he said this and I may have said, “I think maybe you should join the military or study computers” and he still held firm that was what he wanted to do.

Who knew you never really needed to show up to high school to become valedictorian of your medical school class, or chief resident, or mammography doc, or musculoskeletal imaging sub-specialist.

Maybe that is really why I married Jim.  


– I find his tenacity endearing.

– He makes me happy to be his wife when he looks at me proudly when an esteemed doctor does a full body impersonation of me at the podium at HIS graduation.

– I love him because he knows I would never really get drunk on his special night but he will sit and listen to my master plan to, just to entertain me.

Thanks for letting me share with you all that makes me,

Abbie, All that makes you smile, laugh, think, love, cry or cry laughing.

New Pet (Coming Soon to WP)

Here is one of my early posts you might have missed.  I will be back tomorrow with something new.  I am busy with a NEW PET!  Oh my word!  What was I thinking!  

I had to buy two other containers of LIVING creatures to feed it. SOS!!!

“Mom, the baby is eating the dirt in the flower pots!  Don’t worry though because he likes it!” – Ever helpful older twin brothers.

I didn’t have time to make lunches this morning. It doesn’t happen often and I get all kinds of stink eyes from Peter and my husband Jim if I tell them they are buying their lunch. Jim because he doesn’t want to spend money on lunch and Peter because he is a food snob! He comes home today and I ask him how the school lunch was today.

His response, “They had grilled cheese. That’s what they called it anyway.”

I admit I am a little proud of my own grilled cheese, not that I make them often. I use a grill pan to get the lines, butter, creamy cheese, good honey wheat bread and then I sprinkle a little parmesan like you would sprinkle salt before I cut it.

So I try to sound sad for him, (he appreciates me and loves my food and will never get married and leave me! this is my interpretation) “They always have other choices. Did you eat anything else?”

Peter, “I tried to eat a banana from the cafeteria but it turned to powder in my mouth when I bit it. The school’s grilled cheeses came out of a box. They got them from UPS. The box said UPS. No one should have to eat a grilled cheese that UPS made! I mean, I like UPS. UPS brings most of my favorite stuff to our house but they should NOT be making grilled cheese!  Can we pack my lunch tonight?”

You will see that Peter likes it when we turn him into a sand sculpture (maybe not the mermaid but that’s what you get for pestering.)  The boy has to eat constantly.

Judging from the pictures you see the kid will try about anything.  If he says the sandwich was bad I will take his word on it.  After all, he will even eat a tuna sandwich at school if I pack it, (chocked full of onions and egg and mustard) and he has no shame and even feels bad the other kids are eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Abbie,  All that makes you…

I loved this

Huffington Post Article Written by Suburban Jungle “Moms are Jealous Bitches.”

PS Can anyone “like” my page on Facebook.  Just want to try and get 30 “likes.”

This Stuff Only Happens To Me!

Have you ever felt like your kids school’s teachers and staff think you are disheveled, bonkers or possibly a stripper?  Well, after the story I am about to tell you you will realize that my kids principal and school counselor probably think I am all three.

The night before the first day of school and because this was our first year of being car riders and to two schools no less, I cleaned out the Suburban as the teachers will get a first hand look inside at the schools drop off and pick up lines.

I wouldn’t want them to see how we REALLY live.

Knowing I will finally have time to do some decorating while they are off learning I pile grocery bags of fabric that I have in my house, pieces of granite we have, cabinet door fronts we have had built…ok piles of examples of colors and pillows and wood…all over my front seat to make it easy to grab what I need and ponder while in the lines at school.  The plan is to sneak off to the fabric stores while I’m kid free. I’m thinking I’m so well prepared and getting something done while sitting.  It was good to think so highly of myself for A DAY…

On the first day of school I’m picking up at the elementary school and the principal is out walking the car line.  Keep in mind I’m still gun-shy of all teachers and principals after my less than exemplary behavior as a child.  

And here she comes to talk to me, while I’m in the car, and at my window and not at one of the windows where the car is clean…

she comes to the “a homeless person lives in this car” window.  

As I’m shrinking in my seat as she asks why I don’t have “the tag” with my child’s name and school hanging from my rear view mirror. I say (remember my kids were always bus riders), “I don’t have one.”

She is making the poop face, (like all principals do;) at my pile of house samples all over the front of my car that looks like I’m a hoarder.  I then say, “Where do we get them?”

She says, “At the open house. Did his teacher not give you one?”

Ok, here’s where I wish I could lie, I say, “We didn’t go to open house.” I am now making the poop face.

We go to all open houses. We’ve never missed one. For the love of God my first grader begged not to go and I have been to them there five years in a row. We know the teacher and made a decision to skip this one and I walked him in on the morning of the first day. Anyway, she continues with her nose scrunched up and handwrites his name on a tag (something tells me she wanted them all computer printed).

I spend the next several days saying to myself, I wish I had fewer “New Adventures of the Old Christine” moments…They only get better because that next Monday morning at the car rider drop off line the school counselor opens the door for Peter. This is the same clean backseat from a few from a few days ago.

Except that the entire time I’m saying goodbye to Peter and good morning to the counselor she is staring at the backseat floor right behind me, you know the spot the driver cannot see.  She too is making the teacher “poop face”.  

At the next stop sign I take off my seat belt and look around to find my husbands bright red gym bag stuffed so full it cannot be zipped up and a pile of black hair sticking out all over the floor of the Suburban. It is a black wig that we all know my husband wore on stage last Saturday night, with our friends at a Hospice fundraiser, dressed up as Kiss…to raise money and make people laugh. It now looks like a decapitated head in my backseat shoved in a gym bag or some kind of weird kinky thing or I can’t think of a reason that isn’t during Halloween week to have a long black wig in a duffel bag at the feet of your first grader. Sometimes I feel like I am Old Christine or Elaine from Seinfeld.

– Abbie, All that makes you smile, laugh, think, love, cry or cry laughing!