The Mrs. Yoy Blog: The Quarantine Coronacles

On my way home from work this morning, my neighbor informed me that another neighbor was having a birthday party for their child and had rented a train and ponies. I really couldn't visualize what this would look like until I pulled up to my home. RED ALERT! RED ALERT! RED ALERT! I called Mr. Yoy, who along with Uncle Yoy, had just left breakfast with Big and Little E. DON'T COME HOME! DELAY YOUR TRIP! DRIVE AROUND 285 A FEW HUNDRED TIMES! I informed him of the current situation. There was a 0% chance my kids didn't end face down in our neighbor's birthday cake after hijacking a pony ride and the red train engine. Thank goodness they were running over to Home Depot to pick up leather cleaner.  This would buy me some time. I went upstairs to make the beds and fold the endless piles of pool laundry. As I finished with Big E's bed, I heard the garage door open.  I looked out the front window to see Mr. Yoy pulling into t

The last day of their three weeks at HM camp was coming to a close.  After a rocky start, the boys pledged their allegiance to this camp.  They wanted to go back for another session, not in the cards, but I promised they could go again in 2017.  I was beyond relieved.  I took a gamble with this $$$$$, all-day for three weeks, camp. I gambled and I won (this time). Check back with me in a few weeks when I return from Vegas. Today was Medieval themed day. They asked the campers to dress as kings, queens, knights, or even dragons. The Yoys loosely interpreted this to mean Halloween in June and pulled out their all time favorite costumes, the cops.  They didn't give a second thought to their wiener costumes, which I love. I lobbied hard for them to wear their paper crowns from Medieval Times and be done with it. Black polyester pants (but sort of like capris because they have grown since 2014) and black polyester long-sleeved tops. With velcro ties. And black hats. This was what

At camp carpool pick up the other day, a counselor stopped to talk to me about Little E. UH-OH.  A short list of hot topics popped into my brain. 1) INCESSANT THUMB SUCKING (STILL) 2) COMPLETE DISREGARD FOR USING A TOILET ON A REGULAR BASIS (STILL) 3) LAZINESS THAT HASN'T BEEN SEEN ON SUCH A LARGE SCALE SINCE GARFIELD But it was none of these.  She surprised me with a new one. LITTLE E WAS VERY UPSET TODAY WHEN WE PLAYED A GAME AND HE GOT MUD ON HIS SHIRT AND ARMS. My external dialogue was all very understanding and sympathetic.  I turned around in the car to tell Little E that it was fine if he messed up his camp clothes as they were just that, camp clothes, and that any dirt on his arms could be washed off with a good bubble bath. I nodded knowingly at the teenager counselor.  Yeah, I got this. My internal dialogue was much different. DAMN STRAIGHT! I'M SO TIRED OF DOING LAUNDRY. OF BUYING SHIRTS THAT GET WORN ONCE AND ARE STAINED WITH S

Yesterday, Big E came home from camp with ANOTHER foot splinter. 1) I'm not sure why he was walking around without shoes on, unless he was headed to the pool. 2) This kid must shuffle his feet like a penguin, instead of walking like a typical human being. 3) OR this kid must be attracted to roughed up wood. AN UNSANDED WOOD DECK?  WHY, YES, I THINK I'LL TAKE MY SHOES AND SOCKS OFF AND SHUFFLE BACK AND FORTH UNTIL I GET MY 5TH SPLINTER OF THE YEAR. For the record, I've had less than five splinters in my life total and I'm old. If I extrapolate the rate in which Big E acquires splinters, he's on track to earn the foot splinter world record, if that's even a thing. Of course, he wouldn't let the camp nurse anywhere near him. She gave him numbing cream and a bandaid.  And now he expects that to be the gold standard of treatment around here. The only numbing cream I keep in the house is Bailey's. And this kid ain't anywhere near the le

It's been a splintery start to the summer.  On the last day of school, both Yoys had splinters.  Thank the lord my neighbor, Dr. B. was able to tweeze one of them out of Little E while we were at the pool. Big E is another story.  I've blogged about his legendary splinters in the past.  He refuses to let me anywhere near him.  I have to carry him to bed and then wait until he is passed out so that Mr. Yoy and I can sneak into his room like a pair of Navy Seals and yank it out while he is in dreamland. Yesterday, we decided to kick things up a notch. The boys were feverishly working on their new Lego set that Uncle D had bought them during his visit.   The house was completely clean, the boys had showered and were in their jammies, seven loads of laundry were complete, and dinner was on the stove. Monday, I was supermom. Until I accidentally dropped the Dill spice bottle.  It was glass.  I scooped it off the counter.  PHEW. It didn't shatter into a th

Tim McGraw said it best in his song, "Humble and Kind." Out of all of the traits I want my kids to have it is most important to me that they are good people.  It is something I struggle with on a daily basis. Little E has organically picked this up.  He shares with Big E, even though that is clearly a one-way street. He is sweet to his friends and he is ridiculously sweet to me. MOMMY, YOU ARE SO PRETTY. MOMMY, YOU SMELL SO GOOD. MOMMY, YOU ARE REALLY TALL. Big E has a ways to go.  Sometimes, he'll surprise me with excellent manners or his ability to make the new kid in class feel welcome.  But for the most part, he's the center of the universe.  And not just his, it is his assumption he is the center of EVERYONE'S universe. The last week of school brought class awards.  I wasn't sure of the structure of these awards, but as it turns out, everyone received an award and they were candy-themed. WHOPPER: THE CHILD WHO TOLD THE BEST