It smells like WHAT???

My dad's birthday was back in January.  Normally, we celebrate by getting up at the butt-crack o' dawn and having breakfast somewhere yummy with all the kids in tow.  This year, however, our yearly outing was delayed until just this last weekend because dad has a slew of work and every Saturday and Sunday are eaten up at the shop.  We finally decide to make a date for last Sunday and head off to Placentia for our most favorite Mexican restaurant.  This time my boyfriend and his pops come along for the ride.  The plan is to pick up dad at 6:45am.  Why do we do this so early again?  I can't remember.  Oh yeah, it's because our favorite joint is everybody else's favorite joint, too, and if we don't get there when the place opens, we'll have to suffer and wait 15-20 minutes for a table.  Seriously.  My dad is crazy about getting there at 7am.  Sharp.  Sooo, Sunday morning rolls around and we oversleep.  Couldn't be the 3-4 cocktails we had over dinner and a movie the night before.  Or because our 8-month-old Olde English Bulldog woke us up twice with exploding diarrhea.  Nooooo.  We manage to get up, get the kids ready and leave by 6:45am.  Right about the time we were supposed to be picking dad up.  Mind you, none of us showered.  GROSS.  We make it to dad's and to our most favorite resty just about 30 minutes behind schedule ( mostly due to the fact that the bf drove it like he stole it).  The kids are so excited.  We pile out of the car and my 8 year old son, who apparently only comes with one volume (loud) says, and I quote, "IT SMELLS LIKE MEXICAN PEOPLE!"  Right about now, I can hear the record screech to a halt; the proverbial "crickets".  Seems awfully busy here in the parking lot right now.  I look at my angel face child and ask him what he said, just for clarification.  Because, I feel like I need to further the embarrassment.  Because, I obviously don't learn from my mistakes.  And he gladly obliges me. "I SAID IT SMELLS LIKE MEXICAN PEOPLE!"  Oh, yeah.  You already said that.  Right about now, I'm incredibly humiliated and at the same time enormously thankful that the bf and his pops are "of Latin descent".  Pops laughs it off and says, "Oh yeah?  What do Mexicans smell like?"  My bright-eyed boy replies, " Yummy!"  Then he runs to open the restaurant door for his mama.

What? My parents lied to me?

Come on, it's not like I don't already know it, but they really did lie to me.  About a lot of stuff.  And I fell for it.  Things like, "You can't have dessert if you don't clean your plate."  Hmmm....maybe this led to the life-long battle with weight.  Or maybe the classic, "If your friends were all jumping off a bridge, would you follow them?"  Let's see, will it end the lecture any sooner if I do?  My mom and dad were notorious lecturers.  Growing up, lectures in my house could last an entire year if they thought it would get me to clean my room.  But, like any teenager, I ignored what they were saying, so I thought.  And then I grew up and had children of my own.  Yet somehow,  right smack dab in the middle of my thirties, I'm  hearing their words again, as if they are standing next to me, whispering in my ear.  Except it's not them.  It's me!  Throwing it all back up for MY kids to suffer through on what seems like a daily basis...just like they did!  There have been many times when I have heard my parents words spewing from my lips, but, as of late, it's impossible to escape!  I know we all do it.  We all become our parents, eventually.  Mine weren't all that bad.  Great, actually.  I relished my childhood. I had many freedoms (and many groundings for enjoying them a bit too much).  So, I'm not here to bash my folks for how they raised me or for being too strict.  I'm here because very early on, my 3 beautiful children taught me that this journey called parenthood isn't what it's always cracked up to be.  In our home we cope with life's struggles and savor it's joys with humor.  A lot of humor.  I couldn't stay sane a day without it.  So, this blog is about how my kids and I get through this crazy thing called life.  Oh, and I get to learn a few things along the way...