He don't need no stinkin' badges!

Ok.  I really try to be a good parent.  I do.  I think I'm running at about an 80% success rate, which I don't think is too bad.  That being said, I am officially at my wits end with Hud.  Officially.  I do no know what to do with the boy.  I should probably recap for those of you that may have forgotten or may be new to my saga.
Let's go back...way back....  I go for a 3D ultrasound at 32 weeks pregnant.  So excited to see the little smooshed face crammed up against my uterus.  I look at the screen, and there, plain as day is a little chubby cheeked baby extending his middle finger right in the middle of the shot.  The tech was so impressed she asked if she could keep a copy for her wall of fame.  Great, his first mug shot.  Awesome.
When the boy was 2 he was kicked out of preschool for throwing too many fits.  I'll be honest, I was so pissed at the situation (and I'm pretty sure I'm still harboring some bitterness) that I don't remember all the details.
Last year, was another doozie.  I remember climbing the stairs to his class every M/W/F wondering what face of Cybil would greet me.
I don't get it.  I mean, he and Henry came from the exact same genetic material.  Henry has had maybe 3 or 4 bad days his entire school career and each time, he was so mortified that it was at least 6 months before he had another bad day.  Hud seems to take pleasure in coming up with new ways to piss people off.  He gets mad if a kid colors outside the lines.  He gets mad if someone talks when they shouldn't.  He gets mad if someone takes a chair he wanted.  He gets mad if someone looks at him wrong.  However, should he do any of the above, it's perfectly fine and everyone should get over it.
Last week, he came home with his first "red" day.  He told me the teacher gave him the wrong color as he cried on his bike ride home.  When I opened his folder, he had tried to erase that red stamp!!!  It was all smeared and pink.  I realized that the child must think he's smarter than me.  Clearly, in his mind, there was no way I would notice that big pink blob on his chart.  OMG, the kid thinks he's smarter than me!  I figured I had at least until 9 or 10 before that would happen.
Today was another banner day for him.  Red again. This time he says, "It's because my body makes me do it.".  Ok, I don't even know what that means.  Is he possessed?  Like Linda Blair possessed.  I mean, he's shown tendencies and my God that would explain so much.  The lack of sleeping.  The random puking.  The pets running when he comes into a room.  If I see his head spin, I'll take it as a full confirmation.  I feel like he's heading for a hard life.  Like he's going to be selling illegal gummy bears off the back of his trike at the park.  He'll of course, need a little toy pistol and some thugs to do his dirty work for him.  You know, cause he'll be busy with his "business".  Like Scarface, but the friendlier fuzzy school yard version.
So, tonight, I was forced to make a parenting decision.  It may not be the best one.  It may not be the right one.  It may cause years of therapy later on, but I don't care.  I give.  Nothing works for him, when it comes to discipline.  So, tonight, as I was pulling out Halloween decorations, I introduced Hud to Jasper:

Jasper is my kick ass stuffed skull on a stick.  Jasper doesn't take any crap from any punk ass kid!  I love Jasper.  Hud, on the other hand, is terrified of him!!!  Yay!!  Yes, I can honestly say I get pure joy from hearing him scream when Jasper is in the room.  It's totally awesome.  Like when you see a speeder get pulled over or the drunk loud jerk at the bar get kicked out (all of which I'm sure Hud will be one day).  So, now having the upper hand, I inform Hud that when he has a red day at school, Jasper will be spending the night in his room.  Mean?  Maybe.  Unconventional?  Of course.  Effective?  I think yes.  I may set him in front of his door tonight, just to prove a point.  

F-It, I'm taking the bus!

I got the pleasure once again of getting to use the North Dallas Tollway this morning to get to the studio for a webcast.  On a normal day, under normal circumstances, this is all of a 20 minute drive.  But, Monday - Friday at 7:30 are not normal days.  As I began my journey, traffic was going so smoothly, that I actually thought, "Wow!  This is great!  I'm going to be really early.".   As I finished the thought I saw all the brake lights in front of me.  Crap.  What's even worse is that I only made it a few exits down from where I got on the highway to hell.  As I sat there, trapped in the left lane, I had time to observe the insanity going on around me.   Here are a list of thoughts and observations I had while stuck.

Why do people change lanes every 5 feet?  All you are doing is mucking things up for us nonretards that know how to drive.  Seriously, stop changing lanes.  In fact, you should be banished to the feeder road as punishment. I hate you.

I'm boxed in by 2 Priuses.  Or is it Pri-i?  Like cactus and cacti?  Or is it just prius, like fish or deer?  What do you call a group of them???  I know you can't just call them cars, that's would freak the owners out.  They run on hair dryer motors right, so what do you call a group of hair dryers??  I know someone with one, I should ask her.

Hey, I don't think so, Mr. Obama 08 sticker guy!  You most certainly are not getting in front of me!  Hell no!  I don't care what your political preference is, just update it man.  Get your '12 on!

OOOO!  We are moving again!  Yay!!!  I'm so going to be early!!!  Crap.  Stopped.  Boxed in by Pri-i again.  What do you call multiples of those things???

The guy in the truck behind me looks like Alton Brown.  Is that Alton Brown????  Do you think he's cooking something.  I'm hungry.

OMG!  Stopped under an overpass.  I need a valium.  I hate being under these things.  You never know when an earthquake will hit, toppling it onto my vehicle!!!  Move people!!  I'm freaking out here!!!  Maybe Alton Brown has breakfast tacos....

Hmm....there's a lot of tail light parts on the road.  Don't they clean those up?  I see street sweepers here often enough.  Maybe it's just yesterday's commuting carnage.

Woohoo!  Moving again!!!  Damn it Obama 08!  I told you no!!!!

Hey, jerk in the Lexus SUV w/ the mickey mouse stickers!!! Stop trying to run me off the road.  I'm sorry you have to drive your mom's/wife's car, but I'm going to run you down!  Do you see how much bigger mine is than yours!!????  I now also hate you.  And your stupid "family member stick people with mickey ears on" stickers.  Tool.

I need botox now. I have a huge crease in my forehead from this drive. I mean this park and go 5 ft.  I wonder if I just have a surprised face for a while, it will go away.  Opps, scared one of the Prius people.  They must think my brakes went out.

And of course, as soon as I get to my exit, traffic goes from 10 to 50.  F-it.  Next time, I'm taking the bus.

Scrub those nuts

It's never a dull moment being a mom to boys.  It often feels like having alien life form in the house and I have to figure out some means of communication with them to coexist.  Funny how having that extra appendage can throw everything off.
Right now, the boys are really into zombies, ghosts, and anything else related to the afterlife of the damned.     I am often forced into playing night of the living dead and I don't exactly make the best Zombie.  But I improvise.  I am getting very good at the zombie that runs the vacuum and the ghost that cooks dinner.  They don't think it's very cool.  I, however think it shows what an awesome multi tasker I am.  Let's face it, a self cleaning zombie is a great idea, given that they probably drop a lot of rotten flesh and body parts durning their escapades. Maybe Mattel could invent a zombie barbie.  I think I'd be much better at the game if I had a zombie with flowing blonde hair to brush and some cool shoes to put on it.
But, I was reminded last night, how I am a stranger in a foreign land being the only female in a house full of penises (or is it peni?  Is a penis like a cactus?).  I was bathing Hud (because he still refuses to take a shower) and I am trying to teach him (still after a year) to bath himself.  Once he got shampoo in his eyes because he was trying on his own, and grabbed Henry's "grown up" shampoo.  Now every time I wash his hair, EVERY TIME, he asks, "is dis kid shampoo?".  I think he thinks I caused his temporary blindness and doesn't trust me.
I hand him the soap and say, "Clean yourself, top to bottom, pits, butt, nuts, feet"  and walk to his room to put up laundry.  Now, I can hear him talking to himself in the bathroom followed by lots of giggling.  I peek around the door and he's sitting there, in the sudsy water, looking down.  He sees me and asks, "What are nuts?"  I lean over and grab his junk and say, "These are.  Your testicles.  Your nuts.  Balls, Sack, Scrotum, whatever you want to call it".   I know what you are thinking, but I did stop before saying "wrinkly crinkly bag of skin".   He says, "Isn't dat de penis?"  No!  No!  The penis is that little cheeto thing that lives above your wrinkly crinkly bag of skin!  I explained that no, that's not it and am starting  to get a bit uncomfortable.  Then, here it comes......."Why do I have nuts?  What do they do?".  Oh Lord!!!  I caught myself almost saying, "after you hit puberty, they become your brain", but decided to not further complicate things.  So, I did what any good mom would do.  Distracted him by asking him to "make butt bubbles" for me in the water.  Whew!   Crisis avoided.  Maybe I should try that on Nick when I need to end a conversation quickly.
There are times when I think, I wish I had a daughter.  Then, I am reminded at times, like last night, that I have been given a "pass card" on so many things with these guys because I can just say, "Go ask your father."