Tag Archives: Ronald

“All those ladies have stinky vaginas?” ~Butters


So, the boys are watching TV, and a Vagisil commercial comes on… The following conversation ensues:

Ronald: Vagisil! Look Gerald! Vagisil!

Gerald: Oh yeah! I remember when Cartman dipped with Vagisil!

Me: [face palm]

Source: South Park

Source: South Park

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“I want you to think about it long and hard.” ~Michael (from The Office)


As a parent to a tween and a teen, I find myself praying quite often that they won’t pick up on the latest moronic cool terms and phrases that many other kids their age have coined as “sick” or “beast.”  Unfortunately for me, however, God finds some of my other prayer requests more urgent and answers those first.  (He’s got quite a sense of humor, in case you didn’t know.)  Anyway, sure enough, the boys have recently discovered the joy in the infamous phrase, “That’s what she said.”  Yep – that’s right.  They’re only about eight years behind the times on this one, but they love it (and think it’s hilarious) nonetheless.  Here’s a little sneak peak into my torturous, testosterone-filled house:

My sister:  Alicia, do you want the brownies with nuts or without?
Me:  With.  I don’t like the ones without nuts.
The Boys:  THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!  [Bahahaha!]

Gerald:  Mom, do you want the rest of this cornbread?
Me:  No, it’s too hard now.
The Boys:  THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!  [Bahahaha!]

Ronald:  Mom, look at this bruise I got at practice today.
Me:  Wow, it’s huge.  It must really hurt.
The Boys:  THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!  [Bahahaha!]

Gerald:  Mom, are you going to eat this candy bar?
Me:  No.  I don’t really like white chocolate.
The Boys:  THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!  [Bahahaha!]

Me:  Ronald, you had a great hit today!
Ronald:  I – –
Gerald:  THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!  [Bahahaha!]

Me:  That made me choke.  It went down the wrong hole.
The Boys:  THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!  [Bahahaha!]

Me:  Ronald, you need to hurry up and finish that.  It’s not that hard.
The Boys:  THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!  [Bahahaha!]

Gerald:  Mom, I don’t like these potatoes.
Me:  Well then just hurry up and swallow them.  And don’t eat anymore.
The Boys:  THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!  [Bahahaha!]

Ronald:  Mom, come look at this spider!
Me:  Where?  I can’t see it.  It’s too small.
The Boys:  THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!  [Bahahaha!]

— Um… FAIL!!  They’ll get it eventually… —

What happened to the days when my boys were sweet and innocent?  Okay, wait…  Those may have never existed.  That may have only been in my head.  Hmm – It’s a good thing they’re cute.


“The soul is healed by being with children.” ~Fyodor Dostoyevsky


I try to usually keep my posts upbeat and sometimes even funny.  Sometimes that’s hard to do, though, when it feels like your life is falling apart.  Ever been there?  Anyway, this is no attempt to gain pity, but I’m just having one of those weeks, and I’m going through a really hard time in my life right now.  It’s times like this when I’m so thankful for Gerald and Ronald.  On the days when it’s hard to even get out of bed, when I don’t feel like I can even function, all I have to do is look at their mischievous little faces (and their dimples) and feel some sense of hope.  Hope for our future – hope for tomorrow.  When I walk in the door every afternoon, the first thing they do (before their World War 3 battle begins) is ask me how my day went.  How do you not just melt at that and forget, at least temporarily, all of the awful things you’re going through?  No one [who should be blessed with children, at least] ever wants their kids to know they’re going through a hard time, so I’m grateful that they force me to put my big girl panties on and keep moving forward.  They depend on me and rely on me to be their stability, and Lord knows, I never want to let them down.                                                                                                                          

Photo by Leslie Dobbe Photography

Photo by Leslie Dobbe Photography

It’s funny how the ones that you’re supposed to be strong for are actually the ones who are strong for you and help you face your discouraging tomorrows.  All without even knowing it…   In fact, sometimes they’re even the only ones I can depend on for unconditional love and no judgment.  Things won’t always be this hard, right?  One look at my beautiful boys’ faces, and I think I already know the answer to that.  Thank you, God, for giving me these boys as a constant reminder that you know the plans you have for me – plans to prosper me and not to harm me, plans to give me a hope and a future.


“I hate you. You’re crazy. One minute you’re cool, the next minute you’re throwing pointy objects at my head…” ~L.M.N.


Ah, young love…  Do you remember those days?  I remember the days when boys were gross, and I used to chase them around the playground.

Photo by Alicia Benton

Photo by Alicia Benton

My mom used to tell me that meant I had a crush on one of those boys.  What?!  No way!  She was nuts!  Of course, as I grew up, I realized that she was exactly right.  I mean, how else are you supposed to show a boy that you like him, besides chasing him around and pushing him down when you finally catch him???  Well, I’ll tell you what – It’s quite an eye-opening experience when you finally get to see your kid reach those days.  There’s a girl in Ronald’s class, who also happens to live in our neighborhood, who thinks “Ronald is gross.”  [Read:  “Ronald is cute.”]  How do I know this, you ask?  Well, I’m glad you asked.  For one, every day when Ronald gets home from school, he updates me on the latest number of times that Kayla pulled his hair in class and on the bus.  (Remember, he’s got the mean ‘fro going on…)  Then, he tells me all about how while he was riding his bike, she chased him around the neighborhood throwing pine cones at him.  Today, my sister and I watched first hand as she showered him with pink flower petals as he rode by.  Then she proceeded to pick up handfuls of pine straw and attempt to cover him in it.  She never misses a chance to tell me about all the “gross” things Ronald does.  He keeps telling me how annoying she is, and when I tell him that it’s just her way of showing him that she likes him, he responds with, “Eww, Mom.  That’s gross.  Plus, she’s mean to me.  There’s no way she likes me.”  Ha!  Little does he know that she goes home after school and doodles her first name right alongside his last name.  She’s already picked out her wedding dress for that glorious day ten years from now that she gets to marry MY son!  [Over my dead body, by the way…]  It’s so funny to me now to see that the way we females show boys that we like them is by doing the meanest things we can think of to them.  What… you want me to be NICE to the boy I like?  Yeah right!  Hmm… I guess some things will never change, huh?  😉


“It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea.” ~Dylan Thomas


Do your kids ever fight?  Well, mine give sibling rivalry a whole new meaning.  You haven’t seen fighting until you’ve spent five minutes with Gerald and Ronald.  Seriously.  Five minutes.  That’s all it takes.  So, today I thought we would be golden and fight-free… Ronald had a field trip all day, so he didn’t have to do any work.  When we got back to the school, I signed him out early.  Then I let Gerald walk from school with his two best friends so he didn’t have to ride the bus.  Neither of them had baseball practice today, so they got to play the Xbox all afternoon.  That should be Heaven for an 11- and 13-year-old, right, and guarantee me at least one day of no fighting?  Well, not for MY kids.  Nooooo… that would be asking too much.  That would be like me asking for snow in July.  It can’t happen.  From the second Gerald walked in the door from school, here’s what I’ve heard [verbatim]:

“Mooooom, my brother’s blinking at me.”

“Mooooom, my brother farted next to me.”

“Mooooom, my brother won’t let me have a turn playing the game.”

“Mooooom, my brother ate the last piece of cornbread.”

“Mooooom, my brother pooped right before it was my turn in the shower.” 

“Mooooom, my brother is breathing too hard.”

“Mooooom, my brother called me ugly.”

“Mooooom, my brother’s chewing too loud.”

“Mooooom, my brother just tried to touch my butt.”

“Mooooom, my brother’s pretending to stab my eye out with his knife.”

As usual, when dealing with these two, I learned a few valuable lessons today.

1. Don’t make steak (or anything else that requires a knife) for dinner.

2. Ignoring them does not help.  They only yell louder.

3. I should change my name.  Now.

4. Pretending to be invisible doesn’t work.  They know I’m still here, and they keep finding me.

Please, someone… HELP.  Get me out of here!!!


“Dark circles under my eyes sink deeper and deeper into my skull, in contrast to my pale skin there is an undeniable resemblance to a fresh corpse.” ~Dee Remy


The two things I’m sure of in life are as follows:  1. I am EXHAUSTED.  2. My kids are freaking awesome.  Seriously, I have no idea how they do everything that they do.  I understand that kids have more energy than those of us from the “olden days,” as the boys so affectionately call it, but I don’t ever remember having even close to the amount of energy that they have.  We always tell our kids that they have it easy because they’re still kids.  WRONG!   I mean, yes it’s true that they don’t have to have jobs or pay bills, but they still work their little butts off every day!  Think about it… the average adult works an 8-hour day, right?  Well, my kids, like many others, work 7 hours a day at school and then after that, work another 2 to 3 at whatever sport’s practice ’tis the season for.  They wake up at the butt crack of

Photo by Alicia Benton

Photo by Alicia Benton

dawn, and go to school, where they don’t just sit and daydream all day.  (They’re terrified of suffering my wrath if they bring home a bad report card.)  They work hard, listen well, and study hard.  And on top of that, they have to deal with the awful pressures of middle school… the bullying, the labeling, and the constant attempt at fitting in somewhere.  [I HATED middle school and would never ever ever go back.]  Then after being in school all day, they come home, do their homework, and rush off to sport’s practice.  Keep in mind, my kids play a sport every season.  They get about a three-week break in the summer, but the rest of their year is spent playing football, baseball, basketball, or wrestling.  Any of you who’ve played a sport before know that it takes hard-work and dedication to succeed.  And RUNNING!  Tons of RUNNING!!!  They remind me of Forrest Gump they run so much.  By the time practice is over, I’M exhausted.  I know that they must be.  And then, what amazes me, is that the next morning, they wake up and do it all over again (without getting a paycheck every two weeks).  They are ah-maze-ing.  This time change has thoroughly kicked my butt.  And this morning?  Forget it.  It was dark and rainy.  It’s a miracle that I even got myself out of bed, much less the boys too.  I look like death and can’t even function before my first cup of coffee.  And Lord knows, don’t ever try to have a conversation with me before that glorious liquid crack kicks in.  I came to work this morning, complaining incessantly that I was exhausted.  Then I had to stop, shut up, and remind myself that Gerald and Ronald are really the ones who should be complaining of exhaustion.  (Please don’t give them any ideas…)  They work their little butts off constantly and don’t even get to drink coffee!  Next time I feel like whining about how tired I am, all I need to do is look, with pure awe, at my two little men.  They make me so proud, and I’m constantly amazed by them and their resilience and commitment.  I, of all people, have no right to complain about being tired.  My desk job doesn’t look so bad after all…  


“Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out?” ~Ian Wallace


20121031_172630I don’t understand what all the hype is about fitting in with some overrated clique.  For me personally, I don’t want to be where I don’t feel like I’m not wanted for who I am.  Am I crazy?  When I watch Gerald and Ronald, I’m amazed at the differences between them when it comes to belonging.  Gerald is my child whom I can always count on to come home with a crazy, albeit urgent, request for the latest fad.  You know those necklaces that baseball players wear?  Well he has every team.  Elite socks?  He has every color.  My poor child would have had a Justin Bieber haircut at one point in his life if his quasi-afro would’ve cooperated.  Every time he comes to me with a new request, and I ask him why he has to have this latest “thing,” he tells me (with no shame) that “all of his friends have it.”  Ronald, on the other hand, loves being different.  His full-blown afro is the biggest I’ve ever seen… and he just asked me if I can dye it purple!  No kidding…  He never [ever] matches when he goes to school in the morning, and when Gerald tells him that, his response is always, “I don’t care.”  Now, being my overly controlling self, I used to have a terrible time letting him walk out of the house wearing orange shorts, a green shirt, and sneakers without shoelaces, but I finally came to the conclusion that if that’s what makes him happy, then I’ll learn to pick my battles.  Believe me when I tell you, there are countless more battles waiting for me every day with these two!  They’re pretty much even when it comes to friends and popularity, so what’s the difference with one conforming and the other paving his own way?  They’re both happy children (except when I’m the worst mom ever and they’re not getting their own way), and they’re loved by their family, friends, and teachers.  I have to admit:  They’re teaching me some crazy valuable life lessons.  It’s okay to be different.  And it’s okay to be the same, too.  We should all do what makes us comfortable, regardless of what everyone else thinks about it.  Thanks boys.


“A boy’s story is the best story ever told.” ~Charles Dickens


ImageAnyone who knows Ronald, knows that at any moment, he can drop your jaw with what comes out of his mouth!  Well, true story… His teacher was going on maternity leave after Valentine’s week, so they had a baby shower for her during their class Valentine’s Day party.  When we were in TJ Maxx getting the baby an outfit, Ronald tells me, “I don’t remember exactly what was on the list of things she needs, but I remember that the size was a 1Z.”  I thought, “What in the world kind of size is that?!  I thought they were sized with ‘Ts’, but the baby will be way too young for that.”  After standing in the middle of TJ Maxx staring at the floor racking my brain for five minutes, I finally figured out that he meant ONESIES!!!  Lol!  I love that kid!! 


Tiffany Kleiman ~ Author

“I don’t care if a reader hates one of my stories, just as long as s/he finishes the book.” ~ Roald Dahl, WD

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