If you're a fan of Real Time With Bill Maher on HBO, you know that at then end of each program he gives his "New Rules," a funny, crass, honest and often offensive to some list of "rules" in which to deal with the news and current events of the previous week.
This is kind of like that, only in mommy time, not real time.
New Rule: No more reading the Twilight series books before bedtime. I know it's wonderful that you, a brand-new 11 year old, is attempting to finish book 3 before Christmas, and that's commendable. BUT yelling at your mother that you "will not sleep on dead bodies" when she comes to check on you in the middle of the night is just not cool. In fact, it kind of freaks her out. And then, when she laughs because seriously, what else is there to do? Do not tell her that she's not being nice and then repeat the phrase. States of consciousness are subjective kid - and this sleeptalking is getting old.
Lay off the vampire novels for now.
New Rule: No more laces. Yes, you heard me daughter. I love the fact that you can tie your own shoes now. BUT when it takes you no less than 10 minutes to do so, it kind of makes my eyes want to jump out of my skull and my hair stand on end, especially because 10 minutes ago you were going to wear the hideous but oh so convenient Hannah Montana shoes with the Velcro. I don't care if you want to wear the laced shoes, but just figure it out before we're walking out the door.
And those Hannah Montana shoes that I cringed while purchasing? Best investment ever.
New Rule: When you first started playing football and I had to learn all about football pants and pads, a result of being the primary laundry-doer, it was not that big of a deal to take out the pads every time I had to wash your football pants. BUT now it's getting old and the pads? They are getting stinky. If you can't take the darn things out of the pants before putting them into the hamper, I'm going to have to return them and their stankiness to your room, unwashed. That's just the way it is buddy. I don't have the time, patience or the stomach to do this day after day after day and I know that your football season is coming to a close soon, but those pants...dear lord, those pants have seen better days.
In short, take everything out of your pants before putting them in the hamper (and this is not limited to football pads - it includes gum wrappers, love notes, pens and pencils and Spongebob trading cards too). You'll thank me for teaching you this someday.
New Rule: I am not going to make you a separate dinner just because you "don't like" what is put on your plate. Since when did a kid not like meatloaf? Your father and I are thinking about having genetic testing done to determine if you are, indeed, related to us or if the hospital made a horrible mistake when you were born and switched you with a baby whose parents lacked taste buds. Furthermore, if you'd like to go to a birthday party, I suggest taking my advice and eating a healthy meal (that I MADE for you) before hand because there will be no sugar before actual, vitamin-rich, real food.
The end. The pickiness is getting old.
New Rule: Starting today, there will be a fine imposed each and every time one of you spits their toothpaste out any place other than the sink. That's right folks, a fine. You will pay your parents back in the form of shovelling doggie doo or something equally as fun if one more glob of bright blue toothpaste is found upon the monkey rug in your bathroom. You might forget that this bathroom is one of 2 available to guests who visit our house, not to mention your mom when she can't make it to her own bathroom. And stepping in a gooey, disgustingly minty pile of toothpaste is not fun OR enjoyable.
Get your aim right.
Until next week children...