Conversations with Mackenzie

So there I was, enjoying a few minutes of quiet in my nice hot bath, when the little one walks in.

"Mom...?" she pauses... sighs... pauses again for dramatic effect "this is the problem. Today... at school... the kids were making fun of me because they said that I ate (insert another 5 year old child's name here) cheese stick, but I DIDN'T!"

She pauses again, then perks up and says "So you know what?" crosses her arms defiantly "It's time for pay backs!" (note to self - find the child's version of How to Win Friends and Influence People)

Me, innocently "What do you mean 'pay backs'?"

Her "You know...pay backs! Like if a kid be's mean to me (don't you love it when kids say "be's" instead of "is"?), then I'll be mean back to them! Like, if they kick someone, then you just...you know... (she has this incredulous look on her face as to WHY I don't know this) kick them back!" She didn't say 'Duh!' but I can hear it in her voice.

I'm still gathering my thoughts as to the best way to manage this situation, which she apparently interpreted as my being too stupid to understand what she is telling me.

She leans in, puts her hands on the side of the tub, makes very direct eye contact with me, slows her words down and says "Mom! LI-STEN to my words!"

I'm struggling not to laugh because I'm always telling her to "LI-STEN to what I am saying".

"Like if a kid kicks you? You kick them back!" shrugs her shoulders to emphasize the simpleness of her point. "If they kick you again, you just kick them back - but harder than what they kicked you! It's paybacks! See?"

Don't you feel bad for the first boy who tries to kiss her?

Adventures at the DMV

It’s been an adventurous day so far at my house. It started with taking the kids to their new private school. They were simultaneously nervous and excited, but not one left in tears! My youngest, my baby, started kindie today. I thought I would feel nostalgic, some sense of sadness, or at the vary least sentimental. I mostly felt relieved - that a prayer had been answered. I know they will be happy there. I hope they will. I’m sure they will, right? We haven’t gotten a call from the principal yet...yep, yet. I’ve yet to put my kids in a school that didn’t call me at least once in the first two weeks. You can read my past posts if you need a laugh and a peek into my circus of a life!

After drop off, hubby and I went home to go our separate ways. With no kids at home, and this my day off, it was difficult for us both to not play hookie for the day.

Last night we flew in from FL (yay vacation) to discover that another round of medical bills came in while we were gone totaling $1000.00. This total wasn’t nearly as traumatic as the last (10k), so we were thankful for that for a brief moment before overwhelm and frustration set in again. I mean, I’m sure that you, like me, have a spare $1000.00 just laying around for a rainy day, right? I got a good chunk of them paid this morning before my brain shut down. The rest will have to go on payment plans since we’ve already borrowed from the Bank of Mom and Dad to help with the last round. Don’t worry, a phone call to find an attorney is on my list.

This post is long, so it might be a good time to get a glass of your favorite beverage and settle in for a good read.

Before I could do that, I had to take care of one little tiny - okay huge thing. Apparently, my driver’s license expired. I didn’t realize it until I was already in FL. I know that makes it sound like it expired while I was gone, but it actually expired before that. Okay, it expired a lot before that - as in last April (YIKES!). Hubby had to send my passport to FL so I could board the flight home with a valid ID. Prior to leaving for the DMV, I looked up the wait times for renewing. Mornings are the best time, and it was already 10:30. The wait time was 1 hour 18 minutes. I needed to GO!

So here I am, as we speak, banging away at my keys at the DMV. Its called the Department of Licensing here though. I had a bit of trouble finding the place. They’ve moved since the last time I renewed. I didn’t realize that until I pulled up to find Lisa’s Nails now inhabiting their space. Enter my iphone (thank you folks at APPLE!). Utilizing my map ap and GPS, I was able to pull up their new location and get directions from my current location. I drove to their new place - only it was Mike’s Auto Motors which is apparently also closed. Plan B - time to call OnStar. I don’t actually have OnStar, but once, a female car sales person tried to get me to buy a newer model of the car I wanted b/c the newer (ergo more expensive model) had OnStar. I laughed thinking of all the times I’ve called poor hubby at work demanding to know “WHERE AM I?”. He always responded, trying not to laugh “I don’t know. Where are you?”. Me “I don’t know!!!! That’s why I called you.”. He was always able to figure out my location and give me directions on where to go, so when she dangled OnStar in front of me, I laughed while patting hubby on the shoulder and said “I’ve already got OnStar”. Hubby started laughing too. Our car lady didn’t understand the joke though.

So there I was, sitting in Mike’s Auto Motor’s parking lot, calling hubby. He stayed on the phone with me until I was able to locate it for real this time. Third times the charm, right? Only now, it’s noon - the time they tell you NOT to come b/c wait times are longer. Thankfully I brought a lap top and a couple of magazines. Confession, I brought a bag of Sour Patch candy too. The sour taste overwhelms my irritation with this waste of time and allows me to keep going. Don’t judge ;)

I took a deep breath when I saw bodies standing near the windows as I pulled in the parking lot. This trip was indeed going to eat up my afternoon and what little time I have to get my To Do list done prior to picking up the kids from school.

There’s a nice lady at the counter who gives me a number and directs me to sit down. I turn, and in front of me is a sea of chairs all filled with irritated people who have been waiting....and waiting...and waiting some more.

I found a spot between a normal looking gentleman and a nice looking lady. There was a bonus three seats between them which allowed me to sit in the middle with the requisite chair left between strangers. I sat down, prepared to wait. You know how when you sit down, you sometimes put your hand on the chair to guide you? Yeah - I did too - and there was GUM!!!!! EWWWWWWWWWWW! I was prepared to wait, but I was most definitely NOT prepared for gum. Thankfully I haven’t unpacked from the flight, and my hand sanitizer was still in my quart zip lock bag for carry on from yesterday’s flight home.

Hands sanitized, I took out my magazine to start entertaining myself. Then I realized why there were so many chairs in between the gentleman and lady - Mr. Man had restless leg syndrome - or maybe ADHD. I don’t know but he had both legs going like a jack hammer, and I didn’t last long sitting there while my head was vibrated. Thankfully a chair opened up on the front row, and since most of those people looked normal, I decided it was safe to move.

I glance down at my number, R421. It's noon. I glance up at the screen, R 381. Hmmmm... this doesn’t look good.

It’s now 1:15 and they are on R396. Not even half way there. I’m putting my renewal in my calendar next time.

While I’m waiting, a pleasant voice comes on the PA, all heads look up at once, hopeful that she will call their number. One lucky person stands up, while the others look down in disappointment...again.

“Now serving R395 at counter number 5”. Another 10 minutes or more goes by and they have not called a new R number. Twenty minutes pass, and still no new numbers. Thirty minutes now, and she comes on the PA again “Now serving R396 at counter 11”. I’m not sure what R395’s problem was that she required THIRTY minutes to renew her license, but I can’t help but be irritated with her.

Now serving R397". They also have A numbers, E numbers, and F numbers in addition to the R numbers. The pleasant voice calls them out like some sort of sad BINGO game. “Now serving A117 at counter 2” “Now serving F99 at counter 5”. Just to mix it up, one of the random license people will yell out and actual name “JILL McMURPHY? JILL McMURPHY”. A random person from the sea of many arises and walks to the counter. I can’t help but think that someone should yell out “B-I-N-G-O!” at some point, or that Drew Carrey’s voice should announce us by name. “Kelly Smith, you’re the NEXT contestant on DOL” - that’s Dept. of Licensing in case you glossed over it earlier.

“Now serving R399 at counter 3” c’mon on 400!!!

It would certainly make this process more fun. I think they should also have door prizes - you would get a 'Chance card (like Monopoly) and it would say “WINDFALL” and you would get $10 off your license fee or “Move up 2 spaces” and you would get to jump ahead of the people who aren’t paying attention when the voice comes on the PA.

“Now serving R400 at counter 8” half way there!!!

Sitting here bored has left me thinking of ways the Dept. of Licensing could make this process more fun. I’m pretty sure if they had large bouncy houses like what you find at Jump Planet, none of us would really care WHAT number we were.

“Bradly Webber?” Bradly gets up and walks to the counter. Good luck Bradly. I hope that’s your ticket out of here.

“Now serving R401” only 20 more to go and it’s 1:30 already. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m actually going to pick my kids up today.

“Now serving R 402”...I’ve run out of things to say, so I’m signing off. Today’s lesson
‘Renew your license ON TIME, ONLINE, so you don’t have to wait at the DoL!’

Blog Update - a total of 2 hours and 15 minutes at the DoL, and I am the proud owner of the WORST picture I have ever had taken at the DMV - or in my life for that matter. She told me to tilt my chin down - and since tilting my chin down leads to a double chin, I look like I'm Jabba the Hut's sister. Nice! Ugh!

Look Mommy it's a parade!

We took a red eye to FL this year - FL is where I'm from originally. The kids were finally on a normal(ish) sleep cycle this past week, and then we took a red eye. Amazingly, they slept on the plane for three hours and hubby and I tried to sleep. All in all it was an uneventful trip - which we more than grateful for because all of our other pilgrimages home have led to disaster.

Join me as I stroll down memory lane...

By far my most harrowing plane ride took place over four years ago. My youngest was 3 months old which would make my oldest 4 at the time. She was in full swing of reflux and he was in full swing of hyperactive 4 year old. The ride down was relatively uneventful except for the blood clot I got from riding on the plane (that's another post all together). The vacation itself went well, and my wonderful mom was more than willing to get up in the night and feed the baby so I could get some much needed sleep. We got back on the plane and our first leg went fine as well. I managed to get the toddle and the baby through the airport to the second plane. They were both tired before we got on the plane, but neither would give into sleep. SO, by the end of 3 hours of our 4.5 hour flight, they were both postal. Since I had a baby, I had only purchased two seats - my first mistake. We were in the two seats over the wing - second mistake (it's too loud for kids to sleep there). I spent the better part of an hour in the aisle bouncing reflux girl while patting my crabby 4 year old who was prostrate on the seats crying. As we are approaching Seattle for our final decent (from my low perch in the aisle), I happen to notice that the flaps aren't up on the wings (they slow you down so you can land). About the time I'm going to call the flight attendant, she appears from the rear of the plane asking to look out our window. I point out the flaps and she politely asks me not to say anything to the other passengers. So now I, the flight attendant and the pilots all know that the flaps aren't up. About this time, the pilot comes on the radio telling us "these airplanes have a lot of light and switches. We've confirmed that our flaps aren't up, but we don't know if our landing gear came down. We're pretty sure it did, but we have to fly by the tower for a look". We have to WHAT?!?! I felt like I was in some sort of Lifetime movie of the week! I'm trying my damnedest not to panic - especially in front of my kids but I'm close to failing miserable at it.

So, we fly by the tower, and the captain confirms that the landing gear is down (YAY!). We still have the flaps problem though. The captain then tells us that we are going to circle for a bit to try to slow the plane down prior to landing. I'm thinking to myself "..and dump fuel so we don't explode when we land'. Thirty minutes later, the captain comes on and says this - I swear to you I am NOT making this up "Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we need to make sure that your seat belts are fastened, your tray tables are up and your seats in their full upright position. We're going to come in hard and fast when we land. Right before we land I'm going to come on and say "BRACE, BRACE, BRACE" Now when I say that, I want you to brace yourselves as best as possible. If you have small children, try to place one hand in front of their torso's. If you have infants in arms (hi - that would be me on both accounts) place them in a carrier or hold onto them as best you can. I will be back on just before we land. Okay here we go". I'm pretty sure my normally ghost white skin had turned translucent by now. I'm trying hard not to freak out in front of my kids, and trying to figure out how I'm going to brace the three of us for "landing". I also couldn't decide if I should call my husband to say our final goodbye's or pray for the best. I decided on the latter. Somehow making that phone call made it all too real - and I preferred the semi state of denial I was already in.

About this time, the captain says "BRACE, BRACE, BRACE" - I use my mom seat belt arm to hold my oldest back on my left, I death drip the baby who is already in a Baby Bjourn (aka Baby Fly Paper) and throw my foot up on the seat in front of me hoping to wedge myself in. And then we landed - hard - only there were no fire balls, no explosions, and no cartwheels of the plane. You can't imagine the collective sigh of relief that came from all the passengers.

We came to an abrupt stop on the runway. I look as we are stopping and it is only then that I notice all of the fire trucks and ambulances lining both sides of the runway. At which point my son yells out on the plane "LOOK MOMMY! FIRE TRUCKS!" all heads turn our direction. A moment later, a firemen (woman?) comes over in their full head to toe silver fire gear which prompts my son to yell out "LOOK MOMMY! IT'S A SPACE MAN!" all heads turn our direction again. The captain comes on to explain that we came in fast and stopped hard which creates heat around the wheels and brakes. The firemen/women were coming to make sure our tires weren't ON FIRE!!! Once they gave us the all clear, the plane started taxiing toward the terminal - and the ambulances and firetrucks fell in line behind us and my son yells "LOOK MOMMY! IT'S A PAH-RADE!!! All heads turn toward us again then quickly out their windows to watch the parade too. And ever since then, I get a bit twitchy on planes.

A Tall Girls Revenge

Well, I would venture to guess that most of you reading my blog haven't met me in person. If you had, you would know that I'm 6' tall. Not 5'12" not 5'11" - just plain old 6 feet. I'm not what you would call small. I am half German and half Irish/English - big thighs and linebacker shoulders were a forgone conclusion. I don't say that with a value assigned to it or to be self deprecating. I'm just not little no matter how you slice it. Additionally, as if all of those 'make-fun-of-me' attributes weren't enough, I was cursed with very long legs. Seriously - I wear my shirts untucked to try to balance out my proportionately long legs which comprise a good 2/3's of my body.

As a child/youth, clothing did not fit me without a punchline being attached to it. Thankfully my mother had the same problem, and her mother taught her how to sew. Ironically, her mother (my beloved Grandma Shumann aka "Gerty") was NOT tall. I don't mean to say that she was a little shorter than my mom and I, or that she was vertically challenged - I mean to say that girlfriend was SHORT! Not petite - SHORT! On a very tall day, first thing in the morning, she was maybe 4'11". Seriously. She had what we affectionately referred to as 'The Runt Gene" Each generation, at least one family member benefits from The Runt Gene. I have a 35" inseam, so it wasn't me - the understatement of the year! I was hoping that my 4 year old would get it, but I just bought her size 12 kids shoes - and Shrek feet like that only mean one thing in my family - that she didn't get it either!

Anyway, my mom made skirts for me well into my teen years. Thankfully I lived in FL and could wear leggings with mini skirts even in the Winter, thus avoiding the high water pants situation which led to further tall girl jokes. And yes, it does get cold in January and February in FL. Seriously - it gets down into the teens. Mom taught me how to sew, and eventually, I took over my own clothing making. I'm well into my 30's, and the invention of "long" or "tall" pants did not arrive until the last 10 years. Even so, it usually meant that they lengthened the inseam 2 inches but didn't change the crotch - seriously - we are tall everywhere people! These days, more and more companies are carrying Tall clothing, and even more of them seem to understand that there is a difference between a longer inseam and tall size clothing. Hallelujah!

Unfortunately, this bit of information has not made it to the capri field yet where one size is still supposed to fit all. I know the rules - they are supposed to make short women look shorter and tall women look...well, shorter. Unfortunately, they usually come to just below our knees which isn't cute on any day. I like to buy inexpensive jeans and cut them off, re-hem them and voila - capri's. As I've stated in earlier posts, I am currently unable to sew at the moment, so my usual trick would not work this summer. I could wear last years pants if they fit - but a year of bed rest has not made me thinner!

As I was searching for my size and style jeans in one store, I realized that they are also making shorter inseams which they have cleverly marketed to petite women as "short". Really!? It's just an inseam change though. I tried them on - and "short" length pants actually fit me more like capri's! Finally! The Tall Girl gets her revenge!!! So I went back to said store tonight, who is having a sale right now, and bought two more pairs. Why oh why didn't I think of this earlier?

PS - I bought two long pairs too so I can wear them with flats - yes - flats! I wear them with heels too - but I have to pull them down a bit. Yes, I wear heels! I'm 6 feet barefoot, and you can add inches from there! Now, living in Seattle as I do, and being 6' tall with linebacker shoulders, it should really come as no surprise, that I am occasionally stopped by drag Queens who may not initially realize that I am a woman. They get distracted by my size 12 heels. Seriously. It's usually good for a laugh, and we trade secrets about where to shop. Thanks to one truly fantastic Queen - I learned where to buy my size 12 heels. Before that, I had been squeezing into tiny little size 11's! So I say, long live my Queens!

PPS - I know the grass is always greener and all, but I promise you, you really don't want to be this tall. A good 5'8" or 5'9' would be ideal. 6' has lots of issues - besides clothing, the average male in the United States is 5'10". This means at least 70% of the men in my country are shorter than I am! I'd like to tell you that it's different in European countries, but the last time I went, they all seemed even shorter than that. I don't exactly blend.

Also, people always want you to reach items for them on the next shelf. I'm used to it now, but being singled out as a kid was embarrassing.

People like to ask you two questions when you are tall #1 "How tall are you?' like you're a long lost relative of Andre the Giant. #2 "Do you play basketball?" - because you know, if we are going to use sweeping generalizations, all short people are jockeys and all of us tall peeps are b-ballers!

Oh, and from time to time, a man in the South (when I'm visiting) will make the unfortunate mistake of saying "Wow! You're really tall for a woman". To which I (equally rudely) reply "I know. You're kind of short for a man, aren't you?". It's strange, but the conversation always seems to end then ;)

One last tip you might want to know, we're sensitive about our shoe size. So unless you're a drag Queen, or equally Shrek footed, it's best to steer clear of this question. It's like asking any other woman what her pant's size is. lol

Convo's w/Jack (age 7) on my aparent lack of technology know how

Hubby got a new iPad last week. I've been playing around with it, and I would agree with my son when he said "It's just a giant iPhone" with a 'what's so great about that' tone. How would he know this bit of technology wisdom? We own iPhones too. Apparently, he forgot that fact today when we had the following conversation in the car:
Jack "Mackenzie, where's that game you were just playing on (the iPad)?"
Mack "I don't know"
Me "Hand it to me"
Jack "Dad, do you know?"
Dad "No"
Me "Hand it to me"
Jack (like he's warning me that I am about to test a nuclear device with no knowledge of nuclear technology) "it's an iPad"
Me "I know. Hand it to me"
Jack - hands it to me while saying "but it's an iPad, Mom" as if it might blow up in my hands were I to touch the wrong Ap!
Me (to my husband) "Does he really think I am that technologically inept? I know all kids surpass their parents on the technology spectrum at some point, but really? The iPad?"

I push the the icon for the correct Ap in a matter of seconds, hand it back to him silently and he says "Oh" but you could hear the 'I had no idea you weren't hopeless in the realm of technology, Mom' tone in his voice.

Seriously - the iPad?

Just one of those days!!

Yep - it was one of those days. You mom's know the type of day I'm talking about...the long ones, that don't end! I'm reminded of the mom who came up with a t-shirt that has a picture of her daughter in a full on meltdown. The phrase said "Got kids? Want mine?" I don't know that mom, but I feel a kinship with her right now...

The day started off just fine with our jaunt to high tea. You can read about that in my last post.

Then shortly after we got home, it just took a wrong turn!

Usually my two are buddies - no, I'm not just saying that. Typically they like to play together in the absence of other children. (If only I could find a way to keep spare children around my house - j/k). Since both hubby and I have ADHD, it should come as no surprise that both of our kids have it too! That's the beauty of ADHD though, you tend to forget things, sometimes important things, like that YOU have it. Well, we double dosed them in the DNA department. In hindsight, maybe not our best idea, but we wouldn't trade them for the world. Okay - some days....

Anyway, my oldest is active or exuberant as we like to say. He loved attention when he was younger - he especially loved a good audience. My youngest, like most babies, loved to be entertained. They were a match made in heaven - He could spin in circles and jump and make funny faces, and she would laugh and laugh. It's no wonder that she adores him to this day. However, despite another 4 years of growth, she still expects him (subconciously) to entertain her. If he isn't willing to oblige (sometimes he just wants a few minutes to himself - and don't we ALL know that feeling?) she takes matters into her own hands - sometimes its her feet too. She's mostly past the biting phase now.

I have a few weapons in my mom arsenal for really tough days like these. I hoard them like Weight Watchers chocolate ice cream bars until a desperate moment presents itself. Around 2 pm, just such a moment occurred.

They tried playing together - but she wanted to play princess, and he wanted play wizard. He offered to be her "wizard bodyguard" but she insisted that she did not NEED protection. Insert escalating moment here. He insisted that she did and she reluctantly agreed on the condition that she could order him around. I have to insert one extra factoid - she has a best friend - whom we'll call Hally (b/c I haven't asked Hally's parents if I can add her real name to this blog).

The game went like this:
M "You have to go look for bad guys!"
J "Okay" (shrugs his shoulders the way guys do like you just told him he had to play video games) - he dramatically takes up his search stance then declares "OH NO MACKENZIE!"
she interrupts "That's Princess Mackenzie"
he ignores her and continues on. "Look there's Kyle (another friend whose name I have changed)!"
M "GET HIM!!!"
J "STUPIFY! STUPIFY! STUPIFY!"
M "YESSSSSSS! You got him!"
J "Hey, you should thank me for protecting you"
she ignores him
J "OH NO! THERE'S HALLY! SPECIFICUS TOTALIS!"
M "JAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK! NO! NOT HALLY! YOU - ARE - PLAY-ING - THIS WRONG!!!" growls for emphasis - because, you know, Princesses growl, right?

And right at the moment - they left Friendship Island and turned into the Bickerson's, party of 2. Seeing that I needed to intervene, I went to my mom weapons depot, loaded up two pop up tunnels, and 26 one foot square alphabet foam blocks. I told them I thought they could make an obstacle course. They were very excited for the first few minutes when they had the same ideas. But then she wanted to put the letter 'Z' back in the foam outline, and he declared it was his....and they were off to the races again. Sigh...

I tried every trick I know to manage these two today - cooperation, reframing, using I statements, rationalization, democracy, problem solving.... - but each time, they were back at it again.

I finally gave up, and turned on TV. I can only handle so much bickering and intervening - and 90 minutes is apparently my max. I was done - but she was not. And then he started too.

Now I don't about your kids, but the models I own don't have the volume control upgrade. More than once I have searched their person for a volume control nob, and I'm telling you - these two just do not have one! I was hoping to at least get "Store Mode" installed by the age of 7, but so far the programming still needs tweaking. Neither of them seems to have easy access to "Sleep Mode" either, and the little one apparently came pre-programmed with a lengthy list of what I call "Bullshit reasons I can't go to bed". Don't worry - I only call them that to my husband (and now you). I prefer to just teach them the four letter words - not the seven letter ones. The little one also came with bite, kick, pinch and scratch mode which my oldest one does not have - or at least refuses to access despite parental encouragement to "hit her back". SO, I was particularly startled to find that they both have GPS and had apparently found the short cut to my LAST NERVE! I was just about to full on lose it myself - I think that t-shirt would be a picture of me having my own meltdown, and it would read "Got Parents? Want mine?".

Then blissfully, like a knight in shining armor, in walked my husband from work - and out walked I - right out the front door, to my car, and off to go get a massage. Don't worry, I kissed hubby before I left.

Amazingly, he was able to rally the two of them before I got home. I was very impressed at his ability to get the Bickerson's back to Friendship Island. Then he asked them to clean up the foam blocks - and they started in again. It was a little validating...okay, really validating...that it wasn't just with me. It was just one of those days..

Tomorrow is another day - and I see a long trip to the park in store so I can get them both to "Too tired to argue" mode. :)

Mackenzie's Rules for High Tea

Every Thursday, my darling mother-in-law (henceforth referred to as M.O.M - my other mom) watches my kids for me. The three of them usually have grand adventures such as trips to the park, the pool or a picnic. During the summers it gives me an entire day off - all to myself. The truest form of luxury when you are a mother is an entire day to yourself.

This summer, I've been spending my Thursdays having High Tea at the local Tea shop with my girlfriend, Jessica - it's a truly Divine tea shop, and she is a wonderful friend. This Thursday was to be no different - except that M.O.M. was not available to watch the kids. Only hubby neglected to tell me this until after I had made plans with my friend - and at 11 pm the night before. SO, as is the custom with motherhood, plans changed. I took them with me to tea. Don't worry, I texted my girlfriend first so there were no surprises.

Now, I should explain that my girlfriend is about to give birth any day - so her tolerance for mischievous children is on the high side at the moment. I should further explain that our favorite tea place, isn't terribly formal. Also, we know the lovely wait staff and owner...so perhaps we are given a little extra leeway which made me feel a little more comfortable bringing them to tea. And thankfully, they have a Children's tea on the menu.

I texted my friend that we were on our way once my kids were buckled in their seats. Getting my kids up, dressed, through the morning routine and into the car is kind of like herding cats - it's best to talk about it after the task is complete. Off we went for the short drive over and like any mother, I used those few moments to remind my children of my behavior expectations and good manners.

We went over saying please and thank you, using inside voices, staying in our seats, keeping our napkins in our lap and our elbows off the table at which point my oldest interrupts
"Except if you are eating a sandwich, right mom?"
I reply in the affirmative.
After what I felt was a thorough review of appropriate behavior for tea, I say "Okay, what are the rules for tea?"
Mackenzie (age 4) says very matter-of-factly "We are not supposed to burp or toot!"
Jack (age 7) "WHAT?!! I'm not going to tea!"
Me "Don't start! Don't even think about starting, Jack"
Mackenzie "I'm not supposed to show my underwear either, am I, mommy?"
Me (stifling a big giggle) "No, honey. You aren't supposed to show your underwear at tea"

So, if ever you need to review the rules for high tea, remember that you aren't supposed to burp or toot and you shouldn't show your underwear. Just in case you weren't clear about that.