Just don't do it...

How many times a day to I tell the kids "just don't do it"?
Oh, I don't know. Four million six hundred seventy eight thousand and six?

That sounds about right.

Examples of why it's pointless:

Mini-Dahl flops down on the couch, then stands up on it, then manages to lose all ability to control their legs and jumps/flops/slumps down on the couch.
Me: Please don't abuse the furniture.
Mini-Dahl: Okay. (Does it again)
Me: By abusing the furniture, I'm including the (grand hand gesture) whatever it is that you are doing right now.
Mini-Dahl: Do you mean sitting?
Me: (takes a deep breath) Noooooo...I mean the flopping thing you are doing. And please don't stand on the couch. What are couches for?
Mini-Dahl: sitting?
Me: Yes, sitting. What isn't sitting?
Mini-Dahl: (blank look) ummm......
Me: Jumping, flopping, standing......
Mini-Dahl: Oh. (stands up and flops back down on the couch or lays on the cushion and puts their feet up on the back rest - aka the reverse-sit)
Me: (walks down the hall and resists urge to bang my head on wall)

::sounds of bickering::
Me: (walking into the room) What's the problem?
Mini-Dahls: (absolute chaos of noises and words and indignant responses to siblings' accusations)
Me: Whoa! One at a time, please. Tucker, you go first.
Sara: Whhhhhyyyyyyyyyyy doeeeeeeeeeeessssssssssssssss heeeee alwaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyys geeeettttttttt to goooooooooooooo firrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrst?
Me: Because he doesn't whine as much.
Sara: Whaaaaat???? I donnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'ttttttt whhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Me: sure you do. You are doing it right now.
Sara: You're MEAN! (stomps off)
Me: Okay, what happened?
Tucker: Well, I was sitting there not doing anything to anyone and then Sara came over and started telling me what to do...
Me: Wait - what do you mean she was telling you what to do? How can she tell you what to do if you aren't doing anything?
Tucker: I know, right? But she was all bossy and telling me what to do.
Me: What did she tell you to do?
Tucker: I don't know but Sara is SO BOSSY. She always bugs me.
Me: And when she bugs you, how do you handle that?
Tucker: I tell her to go away and leave me alone.
Me: Has that ever worked with Sara?
Tucker: No. And it's VERY annoying.
Me: I'm sure. But don't you think that you should try a different approach if the one you've been using isn't working?
Tucker: MOM! You don't UNDERSTAND. Sara is ANNOYING. And she won't leave me alone.
Me: I do understand. But we all have to live in this house together. And that means if something isn't working, it may be a good idea to change your strategy.
Tucker: MOM! (gets really frustrated) She just won't leave me alone!
Sara: ::stomping back into the room:: Stop talking about about me!!!!!!! I hate it when you talk about me!
Me: Sara, if you are bugging Tucker and he wants you to stop, what can he say to you to make you stop?

pause

Sara: Nothing. There is nothing he can say. Because I am not doing anything wrong.
Tucker: SEE!!!!!!! SEE WHAT I MEAN!!!!!!
Me: ::sighing loudly:: Tucker, you may have to learn the art of walking away, my friend.
Tucker: AAAARRRRRGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!
Me: Sara, you and I are going to have to have a private conversation about appropriate behavior.
Sara: Oh, great.

Me: Sara, when Tucker asks you to leave him alone, why won't you do it.?
Sara: What do you mean?
Me: ::releasing a long, slow breath:: When Tucker tells you that you are bothering him, why won't you find something else to do?
Sara: Because I want him to play with me.
Me: Don't you think you'd have better luck asking him nicely to play with you?
Sara: No, not really.
Me: By getting him upset, you realize that he's even less likely to play with you, right?
Sara: No. If I keep asking him, he'll finally do it.

pause

Me: Is that really how you want your relationship with your brother to work? You annoy him until he gives in, and then he has no patience with you while you are playing because you've bugged him into playing with you.
Sara: I don't care because he's playing with me.
Me: I'm not...I don't...
Sara: ::pats my leg:: It'll be okay, Mom.
Me: No, honey. It's not okay that you pester him into doing what you want.
Sara: well you keep bugging us about stuff. Like, all the time.
Me: I do have to tell you to do or not to do the same things all the time.
Sara: See! You do it too.
Me: It's an entirely different thing. I'm asking you to complete your responsibilities or to not destroy the house.
Sara: Whatever. It's still bugging us until we do it.
Me: I can see that it seems that way, but you want to know what?
Sara: What?
Me: I'm the parent and Dad and I are the reason you have a place to live, food to eat, and clothes to wear. In exchange for your agonizing, unfair life with us, you need to pitch in. And the pitching in we expect you to do will make it a lot easier when you live on your own someday. But you have a point about the bugging you to do stuff. So from now on, let's say I ask you one time - which I shouldn't have to do because you know what you are supposed to do and not supposed to do - and after than I'll do it and just fine you for doing it. I'll keep a tally sheet and at the end of the week you can pay me out of your allowance.
Sara: You don't pay me an allowance.
Me: We do, you just don't get it until you do all your chores without having being made to do them by me or by Dad.
Sara: Oh. Right.
Me: So then on Friday, instead of getting an allowance or not getting an allowance, you'll have to cough up some money to give to us.
Sara: what if I don't have any money?
Me: Then you'll have to pay us in labor. Uncomplaining labor.
Sara: So I'll have to do the chores anyway?
Me: Pretty much.
Sara: I can't wait to grow up.
Me: That's what I thought at your age too, honey.

Almost there...

The writing challenge I joined posted "Almost there..." for the prompt for today.  Well, technically for yesterday since at midnight, I still had a serious case of "I don't know what to write!" (You need to read that in a whiny Disney tween show voice.) I started and erased about six different posts yesterday. My favorite ones to write are the ones that show humor and (hopefully) my ability to laugh at life.

Then it hit me around 4 am. THAT'S my almost there post... writing about wanting to write about something and it's on the edge of my brain but I just can't quite get it out on demand.


Many of the huge gaps between blog posts are because of faulty short term memory. Something funny happens and I think - Oh! I need to write about that! And then when I do -- usually much later -- it loses something in translation. It's hard not to feel like that's failure on MY part as a writer. Because, hello! If I can't translate something from my brain to virtual paper, then what am I even doing with a blog?

The truth is, though, that like many things there are moments of amazing, divine inspiration where I can churn out several posts a day in no time at all. Let's face it, with my kooky family and the vast, incredible differences in how Robert and I were raised and how we are inclined to raise our kids, some of these posts really do almost write themselves.

And then there are the other posts - the ones I want to write but don't because I really do try to consider other people's feelings when I am writing about other people. Pretty sure I'm about to create quite the s**t storm with my next paragraph or two, but sometimes that can't be avoided. So here goes:

The thing about blogging - or more specifically, MY blog - is that I write about things that affect or make an impression on me. And things that affect me often involve other people. I mean, there's only so much hilarity I can achieve solo. And the problem with writing about other people is that sometimes they do not take kindly to being mentioned. I admit, seeing myself reflected back at me through another person's perspective can sting a little. (Bitch resting face, anyone?!?) I'm sure I'm not the only person that finds that to be true.

But! If it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, and looks like a duck...chances are greater than normal that it's a duck. If you're a duck and don't like to be called out as a duck...well, there's not really too much I can do about that. Other than not writing about you being a duck. But sometimes, a girl needs to talk about duck. Especially if it's one of those ducky situations where you just KNOW the entire world will read your blog and be all..."YES! I know EXACTLY what you mean!"



While it's not my intention to make fun of anyone else, nor put them down, nor make them feel badly, when you behave like a douche nozzle and I relay that in writing, perhaps 'anyone' should think a little about their behavior(s) versus jumping down my throat for putting ridiculous behavior on my blog.

Okay, I just re-read that and lost interest in my own words. Simply put, this year I've decided to write about what I'm going to write about. You don't want to appear in my blog in an unfavorable light? Don't be a dick duck to me. SO! Writing about whatever I want to this year? Yep. I'm almost there...

Happy New Year!

It's January 1st.

My gosh, time went by so quickly this year. Err...I mean last year.

We moved from Illinois to North Carolina. I had a really, really hard time with this move, which is not exactly a secret. Changes are difficult. Changes you don't want to make are even more difficult. I absolutely could have handled it better.

Even without the move, it was an eventful year. I had surgery, my grandmother and my step mother passed away, and this year seemed peppered with some ridiculous, unnecessary drama. **coughtempertantrumscough** And let's not even talk about the constant uncertainty that surrounds Robert's job since he works for the federal government.

One of the things I appreciate when not-so-great things happen is that the good things in my life seem to glow more brightly. I've got a wonderful husband. I have funny, sweet, extraordinarily entertaining children, I know some of the most amazing people on the planet, and I know they've got my back.

We live in a beautiful town. We have enough food to eat and weather appropriate clothing to wear. There are many people that we love that love us too. We can pay our bills. We can heat our home. We found a great churches to attend. Overall, we are very blessed, very lucky, and very loved.

And now its 2014.

Time to move forward, right? Right!

::dusts off hands::


SO! I have joined a writing prompt challenge for January. Each day, we are given a prompt for a blog posting.

Here is the prompt for today: goals and resolutions (blog and personal) for 2014.

Here's the thing: I'm not a huge resolution maker. I've made them plenty of times before and I've broken way more than I've kept. I'm much better about goals. Yes, I know they are practically the same thing. No, I don't know why I'm all attitude-y about it.

That said, my personal goals for 2014 are pretty simple and straightforward: treat my body better. That includes eating cleaner (as few processed foods as possible), getting back into my exercise habit, flossing more often, not allowing myself to be guilted into things I don't want to do. I also want to end any relationship that's unhealthy, no matter who or why. I want to be kinder, more patient and understanding with the kids, and learn how to forgive and forget.

It's a pretty tall order for me.

My blog goals are to write at least three times a week. I'd also love to get 100 likes on my blog Facebook page (I'm only one away, so it's going to be pretty sad if I can't make that happen). And that's it, since my personal goals are going to take a lot of work.

So that's it for me today. See you tomorrow. Same blog place, same blog writer. Too corny? Yeah, I thought so too.

Losing time

I'm starting to think that it's actually possible that time travel has been invented and I'm the last to know. Or maybe that one of my family members *may* actually have one of those Men In Black flashy memory whatchamacallits and use it on me regularly.

First example: Friday night was Robert's squadron Christmas Party. It was adults only, so we signed the kids up for Parent's Night Out at the YMCA. PNO runs from 6:15 to 9:45. At 4:30 I went to shower and get ready. Now, truth be told, I knew it was going to take awhile. My normal routine involves showering, drying off, sometimes drying my hair, some moisturizer, get dressed and then I'm out the door. On a good day, I can get it all done in 20 minutes.  Since I was planning to do the whole hair and make up thing, I figured it would take an hour so I gave myself an hour and 15 minutes. We needed to leave at 5:45 to get the kids to the Y by 6:15.  I was almost done getting ready and I looked at the clock - 5:35. Good to go. I put on my clothes, walked downstairs and to the car, got in....and it was 5:51.

Uh...whoops.

Second example: I think Sara may actually be a tween and I just don't realize it. She's lost almost all of her baby teeth, she's taller than most kids her age, her feet are huge, and good grief! She is acting like a moody teenager. Between the shouting, stomping, slamming doors, and constant tears - I  really think about turning in my resignation at Dahl Family, Inc and looking for a job with much lower stress. Like, say, a 911 operator or a position on the bomb squad. Maybe even an air traffic
controller. On days like today, those jobs seem like a walk in the park compared to Sara's strong personality. And no, I'm not kidding. Plus, I'd get paid in actual money, not in eye rolls and stomping feet.

Not gonna lie, that sounds like a much better deal at the moment.

So if time travel does exist, could someone please send me back to 2007 and I'd like to start over.....no, wait.. I don't want to start over. I want to be fast forwarded through this phase. How about sending me to 2027. That should be a pretty safe jump. I hope.

Approval is a good thing!

From my good friend Megan:




Who am I to argue with Jesus?!?

You're already winners, let's put some bling behind it!

Today I took the short version of the Dr. Phil personality test. I scored a 38.

Guess who else supposedly scored a 38?

Oprah! 

You guys, I'm totally channeling Oprah today! I'm having my first ever giveaway. 

I'm SO excited about this, I can't even!

Okay, so here's what you can win:

They are amazing, non? 

Here's how you enter to win. From now until November 27th (the day before Thanksgiving) at midnight EST, you get one entry for each of the following: comment on this blog with anything polite, like my Daily Dose of Dahl Facebook page, like the Friends with Flair page, follow my page on either networked blogs or Blogger.  As a bonus, anyone that you bring to my page or the Friends with Flare page that likes it and comments 'giveaway entry via. (your name) will get both you and your friend an entry. Simple as pie right? 

Many, many thanks to Monica Hamilton for being willing to sponsor this amazing giveaway. Make sure you guys go check our her page because she does rings, bracelets, and necklaces too! All hand crafted by her. 

I might actually go and get my ears pierced again since my holes decided to close up after 30 years. 

Okay people! Get to entering!

...and how was YOUR weekend?

For T's birthday, my dad bought him a BB gun. Tucker got to shoot for the first time during a Boy Scout camping trip in October and loved it, so it was perfect timing.

We spent the weekend in Winston, so Dad set up a place for Tucker to practice. Both Dad, Robert, and Tucker are naturally good shots. 

Me? Wellllll............ I did at least hit the target sort of kind of near where I was aiming, but my depth perception is wonky on a good day, so I should be grateful for small things. But it was a LOT of fun. 

After Tucker got bored with shooting and he and Dad went back inside, Robert and I stayed outside and practiced for a little while longer. And when I say practiced, I practiced and Robert perfected. We had so many holes in the target, I couldn't tell which ones were mine and which ones were already there. So I started trying to shoot the where the target ended and the cardboard began. Since it was a breezy day, we had the tape roll hanging from the cardboard to give it some weight. I hit the paper, and I hit the cardboard, but I never hit the exact place where I thought I was aiming.

But Robert? He decided to see if he could hit the actual strip of tape. 

I'd say that pretty much covers it. 

Sara had opted to go to a football game with Mom and Richard, so she missed all the target practice but didn't seem to care. I mean, come on? Cheerleaders versus target practice? No contest for our resident diva. 

Monday, Robert, the kids, and I went to see the new Thor movie. I liked it, Robert and Tucker loved it and Sara tolerated it because she got to have popcorn. She did admit it wasn't as scary as she expected, which was awesome. Because when she gets scared at a movie, she shrieks. Like a girl. 

Oh, wait...

And here's a random picture of scenery. North Carolina is such a beautiful state.