Hello, hello,

I swore I wasn’t doing the Thursday Thirteen this week. School started today, soccer starts Friday, we’re so busy (and stupid, duh hey) that we completely forgot to take Wacky Girl to her ice skating lesson tonight. Wacky Boy keeps screaming, “I WILL NOT GO TO PRESCHOOL. I WILL NOT” on the half-hour. He’s adorable, no? (Preschool doesn’t start until next week. I am counting the hours. I will have three hours to myself, five days a week. Jealous much?)

Hockey God decided to tell the preschool teacher that our son is a biter.

Yes, Internet, the truth is out. Our son bites. And punches, claws, pulls hair, pinches — the cat is out of the bag. And WB was probably the one to put him there in the first place.

I blurted out, “Just family! He doesn’t bite strangers!” Which is true, so far. But I think this may change next week once he’s in class with 21 other pre-k’s who may possibly not color-code the blocks and line them up by size the way he likes them. His frequent complaint about other kids: “They’re playing wrong.”

Here’s another Q & A with myself, followed by my Thursday Thirteen.

Q: Why me, Lord? Why is my life so much harder than everyone else’s?
A: You ate too many Pixie Sticks as a child. You are being punished from here to eternity.

Q: Did the teacher really shoot me a look when HG mentioned the biting?
A: I think all that sugar did something to your brain. Yes. Of course she did. Idiot.

Q: Why the hell did HG feel the need to mention the biting thing? I haven’t talked with the Internet about this. Why talk with his teacher?
A: Yeah, that would be a nice trick to pull on the poor teacher. Selfish bitch.

Q: I’m not selfish! Just tired.
A: Then why aren’t you sleeping?

Q: And wired! Wired and tired! Will they fix the drinking fountains at school this year or will we be a “dry county” again?
A: There will be no water. Send juiceboxes with ’em, that’s good enough.

Q: That’s not good enough. You’re the selfish bitch, not me.
A: Please state that in the form of a question.

Q: You’re a selfish bitch, not me?
A: I know you are but what am I?

Q: Oh, come on. Here’s the Thursday Thirteen. Denise of Mental Excrements (funny blog name!) posed a challenge:

“I would like to challenge all Thirteeners to come up with 13 things they like about themselves. I feel like we, as women, spend so much time scrutinizing ourselves that we sometimes forget the good stuff.”

You know how stuck up I am. Thus, The Blog. I rarely forget the good stuff about me because 1) I blog it and 2) If I don’t remember it, who will? The dog? The kids? Lest we forget WB’s infamous quote:

“You are the kind of bad mommy who never feeds her kids.”

I was fixing dinner at the time.

THIRTEEN THINGS ABOUT ME THAT ROCK

13. My mad skilz in both the bedroom and kitchen.

12. I think I’ve got Hockey God talked into buying me a boat. A speedboat. Go zoom zoom.

11. I have not yet strangled the dog when he goes into a Tourette’s style barking frenzy.

10. I have not had the cats put to sleep even though they puke way too much. And there are the litterboxes. Always with the litterboxes, those two.

9. I (heart) baby birds.

8. I love to do hair. No haircuts, sorry, styles only.

7. My ability to parallel park.

6. I am kind to our unkind neighbor. Except for what I write here. So please don’t tell her about my blog, okay? Great, thanks.

5. Mad skilz as wife — foot massages, go-ahead to buy hockey season tickets, gift of vacuuming, ability to dust, knack for scrubbing out toilets so you don’t have to. Yow!

4. Mad skilz as mother — just today I dislodged an angry soon-to-be preschooler with a double knee injury from his stroller and it only took me… half an hour? And he wasn’t re-injured! Good job, WM!

3. Writing.

2. Knitting.

1. And the number one most rockin’ thing about me: I volunteer in my kids’ classrooms. (Valium helps.)