Monson Fonsons

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

More Summertime Lyric-Swapping

The girls' summer vacation has descended upon us like a thief in the night. We are three weeks in, and so far I have managed to hold it together. (I have also managed to spend about half of every day with the broom in my hand, to somehow ignore the mounting layers of fingerprints on the refrigerator door, AND to go on a few outings to the swimming pool, once with an extra kid in tow.) It helps that the girls have had some very great moments of cooperative work and play, which contributes to the overall feeling of enjoyment that I've been able to derive from their all-day hugs, shenanigans, and humor.

It hasn't all been easy, though. There are wonderful moments, but there are many overwhelming ones as well. In fact, after the second straight day of air conditioning duct work in our house last week that meant that workers were in and out of the house all day, that we couldn't go anywhere for those two days, and that I had to put Spencer down for (terrible) naps in the playpen in the downstairs office, I pretty much ran out of the house when Craig got home from work and had to calm my nerves by making some purchases at my second favorite store. (And that is really saying something for me. I am not typically a stress-shopper, but sometimes desperate times call for a trip to Ross, people.)

Anyhow, as I have looked over the colossal messes that my children have managed to make in these three short weeks, and pondered on the quickness with which arguments have the tendency to escalate into screaming matches, I keep thinking to myself, "well, this is summer." That thought, of course, gets John Lennon's, "So This is Christmas" in my head, which has naturally prompted me to come up with a summertime version of the one Christmas song I hate so much that it almost has the power to ruin Christmas for me entirely. But alas, it was an easy target, and I am low on ideas for things to say that don't involve the current pandemonium that is my life.

Well, here you go. (And I apologize sincerely in advance if this terrible song gets stuck in your head all dang day. It really should be banned from Christmas entirely.)

So this is summer
And what have you done?
You're not even dressed yet
And it's already 1.
And so this is summer
Are you living in fear?
With all of these kiddos
Aged 1 to 9 years.

Have a very happy summer,
And try not to stress.
While they clean out your pantry
And bring new heights to "mess."

And so this is summer--
You're stronger than you think.
Oh man it's a good thing
You don't even drink.
And so happy summer,
Though you don't think you're strong,
And the nights go like lightning
While the days drag along

Have a very happy summer
And try not to cry
While they're rearranging furniture
And ignoring your sighs

And so this is summer (school is over)
You're doing your best (you're on your own)
Making them lunches (school is over)
And getting them dressed (holy cra-ap)
And so happy summer; (school is over)
It's too hot to go outside (you're on your own)
Your patience is shattered, (school is over)
Your nerves all but fried (now)

Have a very happy summer
It's going to be okay
The new school year's coming...
It's only 7 weeks away

School is over, you're on your own
School is over now

(Here's hoping your summer is equal parts pleasant and crazy!)

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Multi-Tasker

See? If you can figure out a way to drive both cars at the same time, then you don't have to pick.

Too bad more things in life don't work out this way...

Sunday, June 1, 2014

The Absolutely True Story of a Part-Time Laundry Lady*

Well friends, I'm doing something shameless. My sister Cyndie, who is mercifully blogging again after an almost unbearable hiatus, mentioned that she was thinking of doing a version of One Direction's "The Story of My Life" based on common Mommy dilemmas like endless laundry and dishes in the sink. So...

I fixated.

And then I totally copied her idea.

Hers is way more funny, I can tell you, and you can read it here. I promise you will love it. And, if you can forgive me for capitalizing on someone else's genius idea, you can read mine below.

Laundry is, after all, the very real, very true, very endless, story of this girl's life.

The Story of My Life

Sitting in these hampers, the clothes have been piling up for days.

They're nearly over-flowing, which means that it must be Monday.

I'm sick of doing laundry, so tired that I feel it in my bones.

"She did her best to keep up;" these words will be written on my stone.

So I'll be washing for hours.

All these clothes that smell like something sour.

Laundry soap, and Downy, dryer sheets,

Until it's all complete.

The story of my life,

I wash 6 loads

I dry them all,

and then I fold and fold.

It's lau-au-aundry day.

The story of my life,

all I can think:

"can't dry those shirts,

or they'll totally shrink."

The story of my life.

Sitting in these hampers, are stinky clothes that I have to touch.

Don't leave your socks balled-up please, I swear that it's not asking much.

If change were in your pockets, you know that I would steal it from you;

But sadly all that's in there are Barbie shoes, and sand, and lint, and goo.

So I'll be washing for hours.

All those clothes that smell like something sour.

Laundry soap, and Downy, then repeat,

Until it's all complete.

The story of my life,

I wash 6 loads

I dry them all,

and then I fold and fold.

It's lau-au-aundry day.

The story of my life,

I'm almost done,

but wait, your pants have rocks--

they weigh a ton.

The story of my life.

And then the clothes will sit for days 'til you put them away;

Make sure I get the baskets back by next Monday.

The story of my life,

I wash 6 loads

I dry them all,

and then I fold and fold.

It's lau-au-aundry day.

The story of my life,

and don't you dare

fill your hamper

with your clean underwear

The story of my life.

The story of my li-i-i-i-ife

The story of my life.

*Points and props to whoever can tell me where I totally ripped-off this title.
And no, Laura, you don't get to guess; I already know you know it. ;)

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Spencerings

Well, since he turned one not very long ago, Spence has really taken off. Quite literally, in fact. Now that he is walking, he is all over the place even more than he was before, (which I didn't think was humanly possible), and I can scarcely take my eye off of him without him falling off of something, or bumping into something, or eating something he isn't supposed to be eating. ("Choking habits," as Vanna calls them.)

Here are just a few glimpses of what he's into (and I mean into) these days.

#1: Bunk bed stairs

#2: Dishwashers

#3: Family bike rides

#4: Kitchen islands

#5: Helping with laundry

#6: The occasional toy

#7: Daddy!

#8: Swimming

#9: Grandpa Dennis' walker

Note the blur; he was going way too fast to get a good shot

Ah, yes, I'm certainly learning what it is to have a little boy. It's the funnest and most exhausting thing a mom could ever love.

Lucky Number 7

Birthday season at our house extends from the end of March to mid-June, with Julia's, Spencer's, my, and Savanna's birthdays all falling within a time span of just a little over a month. (We also celebrate our wedding anniversary and Mother's Day within a couple days of Savanna's birthday, just because we like to keep things interesting. Or because our lives revolve around our children. Take your pick.)

That being said, I just realized that it is the last day of May and I have yet to post anything about Julia's or my birthday, though both were incredibly fun in their own right. But since it's May, and the actual month of Vanna's birthday, I'll go ahead and do her first. Then I'll do the others. Then I'll squeeze in that Hawaii trip of mine from two years ago because I know that you haven't given up hope and that you still can't wait to hear all about it.

We may have figured out the perfect formula for birthdays around here: take the kids out to eat with two or three close friends. Dinner. Presents. Dessert. The end. No party planning or outrageous shopping lists or messes at home. I really think we're on to something, people.

Van picked Chuck E. Cheese, replete with inflatable guitars, microphones, and birthday hats. And tokens. Oh, the tokens. (Only those weren't inflatable. But they were magical.) Another secret: If you are going to do a Chuck E. Cheese party, do it on a Wednesday afternoon. At 5:00. Almost nobody is there, and chances are, yours will be the only party that day. Did I already use the word magical?

We all had a blast, Savanna felt like the most loved and important child in the world, and we got to eat a decent amount of sub-par pizza to boot. I mean, what could be better?