When Enough is Effing Enough!!

     Let me start by saying this... I am not offended easily... if ever. Having kids has changed my outlook on quite a few things though.  Having a kid who parrots back almost everything that I say to him has made me really think twice about my "lack of filter-itius" and try a lot harder to curb that sarcastic outburst that normally just fall out without control.  It's pretty much one of my worst nightmares that Mason will say something in public that he has heard somewhere and I am the one to catch the heat because my kid has a potty mouth.  I am sure I could brush it off, but I'd be embarrassed none the less and I like to avoid that if possible.  He is 3 years and 8 months old.  Thank you Sweet Baby Jesus, it hasn't happen yet... despite the best efforts of a guy on Sunday.  I'll set the stage...
     We don't go out to eat at restaurants very often... when we do, it has usually been eat quickly because once one of the boys is done, we are all done.  We did have a little window when Cooper was really little and Mason started to be fun to take out... but then Cooper got not fun to take and that window was slammed shut.  We don't go enough for them to be used to it... it is what it is. 
     We had to drop the hubs at the airport right at breakfast time and I thought a trip out to eat would be fun and take their minds off of Dad being gone.  I decided on IHOP... Mason asks for pancakes almost every morning so I thought it would be nice for him.
     We walked into the restaurant and I give the host my request of 3 in a booth... away from people if possible.  It was Sunday morning at IHOP... away from people was not going to happen.  We followed her around the corner and to the back to a booth and my eyes couldn't believe what they saw... 6 grown men crowded around a table and the biggest one of the bunch wearing- only in the South-overalls with no shirt.  I laughed to myself and once seated, nonchalantly tried to document this sight to share at a later date.  I know, I know, not nice, but seriously, how often do you see this?? Ok, so living in southern Mississippi, I may have seen it a couple times before, but it never gets old!!  It doesn't get much more country than that.  I am not a great "picture on the sly" and to be honest, they made me a little nervous so that should explain the messed up pic, but you can see... overalls, no shirt... oh yeah, and tattoos!! Maybe he thought that was shirt enough? Who knows.

 

     After I was done secretly gawking and had ordered our food and gotten us all settled to wait for our stuff, I couldn't help but overhear one of the guys at the table.  He was cussing. Not just the random four letter accidental slip.  He was cussing like it was his job.  M F'er, B, GD, F, F, S, F, F, B, GD... use your imagination...  I was not happy.  I'll admit, sometimes there is a need for a well placed F bomb.  It almost feels good to just let it drop... especially when you really try and monitor what comes out of your mouth for fear of hearing it spit back at you.  I'll even say that sometimes it is needed to get your point across.  That guy happens to be the one in the green shirt with the hat on at the table... a little insight to his table manners if you ask me (while I sit on my high horse)... or Emily Post.
     Anyway, this goes on for a few minutes and as I sit there, I see Mason's little ears perk up at hearing other voices... and am just waiting for him to ask me to get him some more F'ing OJ.  I am sitting at the table wincing at every drop of profanity, and even locked eyes with their waitress as she gave me the "I'm really sorry" look.  I knew it wasn't in my head. I got more and more aggravated.  This was not a bar.  This was not at an odd, non-family time... it was SUNDAY... 8:30 in the morning... at IHOP for Pete's sake!  I had finally had enough.  I catch the cussing machine's eye and say the following, "Hey, I'm sorry, but can you please try not to curse so much, or so loudly, I'm here with my kids"  I was cut off before I could finish with a "We are fixin to leave".  I don't know why I was surprised, but I thought that if someone had to ask you to modify your language because it was offensive to CHILDREN that some sort of apology would be included in your response.  I would even have been happy with a "My bad."  No.  We are fixin to leave.  Really???  He then turned to his buddies and said "Lets get outta here"  one of the others said "Why, what happened?" Mr Manners told his friends, "Yeah, that girl over there just said something to me"... like I was the big jerk... he probably pointed at me too.  I wasn't looking to confirm, but I seriously wouldn't have put it past him.
I couldn't believe it.  They talked for a few more minutes and Mr. Manners cussed a few more times, each word now earning him a look of "are you kidding me??" from me... the big jerk who just had to speak up.
     Was I out of line?  At what point are you allowed to say something to someone about their language.  I'm no ninny, I have spent the entire duration of my adulthood being surrounded by military guys... I've heard it all.  But for me to hear it is one thing... my kids... totally different.  Where do you draw the line.  Does someone in a crowded restaurant with tables close together expect that their table conversation is private to them and they get to say whatever they want not matter how offensive to other customers?  Maybe my delivery was wrong, should I have asked the waiter to say something on my behalf?  I am just blown away at how this all went down.  How did I end up the bad guy?  F that... I know I was F'ing right. 

Sarah Vs. "The pool"

     A little background on Team Horst.  We are outside people.  Living in the south has allowed us to really get into this "outside" type of life style.  While attempting to entertain the little people in our lives we have found that the little plastic pool from Walmart is key.  Plain and simple, we use the crap out of that pool.  Summer time it is essential for a certain adult female (who for some silly reason keeps getting pregnant just in time to be "oh my gosh she is about to explode big" by the absolute hottest part of summer)  to survive the "sauna on the surface of the sun" like temperatures.  Spring and Fall, it is still fun to splash around in for the kids.  Winter time it becomes a make shift Chucky Cheese ball pit, rocket ship, make shift trampoline when flipped over, whatever they can imagine.  Needless to say, when spring time rolls back around the pool has been beat to hell and inevitably has a crack, hole, tear, rip, etc. which requires the purchase of a new one to resume water play.  For $34.97 I don't even bat and eye.  We get our money's worth... and then some.
     Eric went to get a new pool in the truck "aka"  an appropriate vehicle to transport a pool in.  Unfortunately, we are picky about our $34.97 plastic pool and require that it have a built in slide.  The kids are accustom to it, have a ton of fun on it, and it provides a lounge chair space for said constantly pregnant in the summer female... all leading up to the fact that we WILL have the built in slide. Three stores later, still no pool.
     So I do like any normal red blooded American would do and bust out the ole duct tape to patch up last year's pool until I can find a new one.  The boys were thrilled.  Not only did they get to play with duct tape, but then they got to go swimming in the pool... I know, I know, major excitement.  It doesn't take much.
     Fast forward about a week later and we now have leaky duct tape patches (insert my disappointed face). I just so happened to be on a Drill day and had a few extra minutes on the way home, conveniently going past a Walmart that is normally out of my way and hadn't checked for a pool yet.  I called ahead to inquire if they had our pool and JACKPOT!! They had it.  I was alone, had a car that I was pretty sure I could fit the pool in to, and on top of it all, had a few minutes to look around a store without children.  No way was I not stopping.  I excitedly called the hubs and told him my good luck at finding a pool.  He immediately says skeptically, "I don't think it will fit in the Acadia"  I reply back- of course it will fit! I'll figure it out!  He warned me not to wreck the car and I assured him that I would not.  I had already made up my mind that I was getting the pool.
     In the store, I took my time, looked around at a few things, people watched, tried not to feel uncomfortable at people staring at me in my maternity uniform which looks like a tent, you know, what normal people without kids do... I think.  Then I realized that I was running out of time and needed to wrap it up.  I zip up to the check out counter and the girl rings up my stuff.  I tell her that I need a pool that was outside as well.  She didn't have a clue.  I gave her a description of it, and then had to tell her how much it cost... which she took my word for without question. Gotta love the South.  I paid and was out the door.  I hurried to the car and tossed in my bags.  I pulled around up front and parked next to the pools which I am now realizing are much bigger than I was thinking.  As I walked over to pick out the pool of our dreams, located right next to the employee's outside smoke/break area.  They must have seen me coming and realized what was about to happen because as I walked up to the pools, the employees cleared out.
     Here is where it gets interesting... It took everything, I mean everything, I had to get that dang pool in the car.  I practically folded the thing in half.  I tried to fold it and push it in, but my inconvenient pregnant belly kept getting in the way preventing me from getting the leverage I needed. Never fear, I thought quickly, as to not lose the fold in the pool that I had just broken a sweat getting to just the right size to fit in the car, I just had to climb in first and pull it in.  I looked up just in time to see a couple people, a store employee included, who had actually stopped to watch my circus performance.  (Insert circus theme music) Come one come all, only a dollar to see the pregnant chick struggle to fit a 9 ft round pool into a 5ft square opening!! Only a dollar, folks, to stand and chuckle at the freak!!  Nope, I'm good, thanks- don't need any help here I thought as they did NOT offer to help me.  Oh well, I didn't need their help anyway!! I just about had it all the way in and I was trying to hold the pool in place and take out a carseat that was apparently installed by Superman himself because there was no way that I was getting it out... especially one handed as I was trying! So I had to bend and pull some more but finally got it in... and the back lift gate closed too! I actually did a "Rocky Balboa" fists in the air jumping up and down victory dance while singing the victory music... which earned me some more stop and stares. I didn't care... I made it fit!!  If I knew the words to "Eye of the Tiger" and could actually sing, I would have belted out a verse or two!  That is how excited I was.  I know, I know, again, it doesn't take much.
     I got in to drive away and realized that the pool blocked the entire back view out of the car and I couldn't see anything so it made the drive home a little interesting, but I didn't care... I made the pool fit!! The boys were totally stoked to have a new pool that didn't leak and, still high on my victory/adrenaline rush from actually getting the pool to fit, I was one happy girl... and may have gloated a bit!!  Here are a few pictures to highlight my adventure!  I'm sure some random stranger took a video of it all (instead of helping me) and is now passing it along to friends with the caption "Check out this train wreck!!"  Oh well, joke is on them cause I got the pool baby!!

Holy Crap!! It fit!!! 

Oh yeah!! I got it int there!!

There is no way that it should have fit in there!

"The Pool" 2013

Way to go Target, she said sarcastically, you got me....

I am almost curious enough to inquire whether cashiers at target get a kick back on purchases.  Apparently the cashier I had the other day does... or is just that much of an oblivious jerk.  I'm going to have to go with the jerk theory though.
I had a doctor appointment in the afternoon so I thought I would run some errands after picking up Mason from school, but allowing for Cooper to get a decent quality nap... in the car.  I should have known better and scrapped the whole idea when I parked in front of Target and had to text the hubs and ask why I needed to go in there.  So, we had about an hour and a half to kill which means we wandered.  I got the 2 necessary items that I "had to go to the store for" in the first 10 minutes.  We got a few toys from the $1 section, some other miscellaneous items that I thought of while I was there and then decided that I had had enough so we head to the check out.  We had a fairly enjoyable time but the kids were starting to get antsy so I knew it was time to go before it got out of control.
We headed up to the check out line and there were probably about 3 lanes open with about 5 people with things to check out... overall, not that busy and no need for the cashier to rush... and she didn't.  There was one person in front of me so we waited... and waited... and waited.  This woman moved like molasses.  I was trying to keep my cool as the kids were getting more and more impatient but she apparently did not notice and pick up the pace.  I could have switched lanes but by the time I realized what was happening I was committed.  The kids were being antsy, but fairly good so I grabbed a trashy tabloid from the rack and looked at it for approximately10 seconds.  I'm sure they frown on this practice of looking at the magazine until it's your turn and then put it back, but if she is going to move in slow motion, I'm going to do it.
That is about when things got interesting.  Cooper J was O-V-E-R being in the cart and decided that jumping was the best way to get out of the cart.  Luckily, when my kids were born I became part super hero with cat like reflexes in order to save their lives, like when they swan dive out of a shopping cart.  Again, me being lucky, they test out these powers on a regular basis so they my skills are finely tuned and perfected.  In order for me to catch him, I threw down the magazine that I was holding.  Where did it land?  On the conveyer belt headed for the cashier.  The boys then started being kids and began to pull one of everything off of the shelf in the "impulse purchase" section at the register with me immediately saying "put that back" (and proudly, they did! ha ha) so my full attention may not have been on the actual check out process.  Once she was finally done ringing up my items I give her my attention back and pay.  Toss the bags and boys into the cart and practically ran out of the store.  When I had the kids properly secured in their seats I go to the back of the car and start to load in my bags when, to my surprise, I notice a familiar looking trashy tabloid in a bag with the other stuff I had meant to pay for.  Double checking my receipt, to my dismay, I still can't believe I actually paid for a magazine that the cover story was about celebrities who are too thin and might have eating disorders.  Quality reading.  I mean, I enjoy the celebrity gossip as much as the next person... but prefer it to be on my yahoo news feed... for free.
In retrospect, technically, I did put it on the belt with the other approved items, but maybe it would have been nice for the cashier to double check that particular item since she saw me throw it to catch my flightless child.  I mean she snapped out of her own little world when the cart slammed into the side of the check out counter as Cooper J jumped so I know that she saw what had happened.  It is not that easy to block us out.  Would it have been too much for her to say "Um, I saw you got distracted and tossed this down, did you really want it?" Apparently so.
The hubs says I have no grounds to be aggravated about the whole situation, but I still say "Way to go target cashier... you got me."