After folding four loads of laundry today (two of them clothes, two of them towels and such), I'm left wondering why I'm the only one in the family who is capable of taking my clothing off right-side-out. I'm not kidding...I'm the only one who always has right-side-out clothing in the clean laundry basket. I mean, really, it's not hard to take socks off, just pull them off by the toe, right? Shirts? Well, it's easy breezy coconut squeezy to just take them off straight over your head without flipping them. And pants, why not just step out of them? I even manage to take my skinny jeans off right-side-out which is quite the challenge, I must say. But I do it. You know how theirs are? Particularly the boys? Well, one leg is right-side-out and the other is inside-out. What the heck happened there?
So, do I take all their inside-out-clothing and turn it right-side-out for them as I gently fold them and place them into piles, one for each member of the family? Heck no, I don't. I rather spastically, yet accurately, fold them and toss them each on a pile, socks mixed in with shirts mixed in with underwear (which, surprisingly, is usually right-side-out...hmmmmmmmm) mixed in with shorts and jeans.
But hey, I'm not complaining, really I'm not. I'm seriously wondering about this fascinating phenomenon in my lovely family. And really, why be annoyed? I found a $10 bill in the laundry a few days ago. Finders keepers!
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
Fast Food Dreams
I've got my wacky morning routine with my little guy. It's really a hopping from island to island napping thing for him. Sleeping in the bed. Get him up. Sleeping in the shower (yes!). Get him out. Sleeping at the table. Make him eat. Then I leave...guessing that Dave continues the sleep island hopping after I go to work.
So, this morning I ask the little dude as I rouse him from one of his islands...
Me: "Do you want a burrito or a bowl of cereal?"
Little guy: "I'll have a burrito, please."
I know, that sounds great! And it was, particularly in comparison to yesterday...
Me: "Do you want a burrito or do you want to grab breakfast at school?" I know, I know, bad mom, but hey, the district claims they DO NOT use pink slime, so it can't be all bad, right?
Little guy: "I'll take a #9."
Me: "What? Do you want a burrito or do you want to grab breakfast at school?"
Little guy: "#9, #9, #9."
Me: "What's a #9?"
Little guy: "You know, you're making it."
Me: "You're asleep, dude, I'm making you a burrito."
Little guy: "What are you talking about, mom?"
Yeah, thinking no more fast food for this kiddo if he's ordering food by number in his sleep. Ay, yi, yi....
So, this morning I ask the little dude as I rouse him from one of his islands...
Me: "Do you want a burrito or a bowl of cereal?"
Little guy: "I'll have a burrito, please."
I know, that sounds great! And it was, particularly in comparison to yesterday...
Me: "Do you want a burrito or do you want to grab breakfast at school?" I know, I know, bad mom, but hey, the district claims they DO NOT use pink slime, so it can't be all bad, right?
Little guy: "I'll take a #9."
Me: "What? Do you want a burrito or do you want to grab breakfast at school?"
Little guy: "#9, #9, #9."
Me: "What's a #9?"
Little guy: "You know, you're making it."
Me: "You're asleep, dude, I'm making you a burrito."
Little guy: "What are you talking about, mom?"
Yeah, thinking no more fast food for this kiddo if he's ordering food by number in his sleep. Ay, yi, yi....
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Dreamt the Impossible Dream...or maybe I should've titled it "Hairballs"
Had a weird dream the other night. Dreamt I had a HUGE tangle in my hair. I pulled and tugged and pulled and tugged...and suddenly a tennis ball popped right of the middle of it. Boing, boing, boing, off it went.
A little nervous about just how I should interpret all of that, I pulled up the "all knowing" Google. And here's what I found regarding dreaming about such strangeness:
Oh, my, none of that calmed my heart! I stood up, paced around a bit, went in the bathroom to put my contacts in thinking that, perhaps, they'd help me be able to see more clearly, looked at the mirror and...there was my night-time sleep eye mask, Velcro intertwined with the rat nest my hair is each morning. Hmmmmmm...thinking my marriage and life are gonna be just fine after all.
A little nervous about just how I should interpret all of that, I pulled up the "all knowing" Google. And here's what I found regarding dreaming about such strangeness:
"To see tangled and unkempt hair, life will be a veritable burden, business will fall off, and the marriage yoke will be troublesome to carry. If a woman is unsuccessful in combing her hair, she will lose a worthy man's name by needless show of temper and disdain."
"Dreaming of a tennis ball is symbolic of uncertainty, right now, you are on the fence regarding a decision that must be made but you really don't know which way to take with it."
"A ball in a dream signifies a dispute, an argument, a fight to control the world and its resources. Some will desire it and others will reject it."
Oh, my, none of that calmed my heart! I stood up, paced around a bit, went in the bathroom to put my contacts in thinking that, perhaps, they'd help me be able to see more clearly, looked at the mirror and...there was my night-time sleep eye mask, Velcro intertwined with the rat nest my hair is each morning. Hmmmmmm...thinking my marriage and life are gonna be just fine after all.
This design available on shirts/bags/mugs/cards and more: Call me Curly
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Interest Paid, Time Earned
I'm totally aware that I spend a lot of time consumed with my own interests. You know, exercising (while facebooking...it's the deal I make with myself so it's OK to waste time that way), blogging, drawing, and painting. Well, today I made a special point of trying to check in with each of my family members and show an interest in their interests.
Entering little guy's room. He's playing Minecraft.
Little guy: "What are you doing in here, mom?"
Me: "I'm being interested in what you're interested in."
Little guy: "That's weird, mom."
Random other boy that's on the speaker on little guy's computer: "Let your mom watch, dude."
Hooray for random other boy!!!
I sat there a while, watching, not understanding a thing, getting dizzy with the motion, kissed him on the elbow and left his room.
Entering big guy's room. He's playing Call of Duty, Modern Warfare 2.
Big guy: "Go away, mom."
Me: "I'm here being interested in what you're interested in."
Big guy: "Why?"
Me: "Because I love you."
Big guy: "Hmmmmmm...."
Me: "So, do what makes you such an elite player." (Apparently he is, he actually makes money because of it.)
Big guy: "No, mom."
Me: "OK, I love you." I get up and leave because I'm feeling funny again, this time because of all the blood spatters on the screen.
I go to Dave's office, he's making some CDs.
Dave: "Hey."
Me: "I'm here being interested in what you're interested in."
He took me around the room showing me new pieces of equipment he had recently gotten.
Dave: "Want to touch my new headphones?"
Me: (Not really, but I touch them because I'm being all interested in what my family is interested in.)
Dave: "Want to touch my new blah-de-blah-de-blah?"
Me: (Yes, I tuned him out, but I did touch whatever it was.)
I left the room feeling decidedly proud of myself and not at all funny/dizzy.
So, yay, I've shown interest in my family's interests! I'm totally a rockin' wife and mom. Now back to my paints.
Entering little guy's room. He's playing Minecraft.
Little guy: "What are you doing in here, mom?"
Me: "I'm being interested in what you're interested in."
Little guy: "That's weird, mom."
Random other boy that's on the speaker on little guy's computer: "Let your mom watch, dude."
Hooray for random other boy!!!
I sat there a while, watching, not understanding a thing, getting dizzy with the motion, kissed him on the elbow and left his room.
Entering big guy's room. He's playing Call of Duty, Modern Warfare 2.
Big guy: "Go away, mom."
Me: "I'm here being interested in what you're interested in."
Big guy: "Why?"
Me: "Because I love you."
Big guy: "Hmmmmmm...."
Me: "So, do what makes you such an elite player." (Apparently he is, he actually makes money because of it.)
Big guy: "No, mom."
Me: "OK, I love you." I get up and leave because I'm feeling funny again, this time because of all the blood spatters on the screen.
I go to Dave's office, he's making some CDs.
Dave: "Hey."
Me: "I'm here being interested in what you're interested in."
He took me around the room showing me new pieces of equipment he had recently gotten.
Dave: "Want to touch my new headphones?"
Me: (Not really, but I touch them because I'm being all interested in what my family is interested in.)
Dave: "Want to touch my new blah-de-blah-de-blah?"
Me: (Yes, I tuned him out, but I did touch whatever it was.)
I left the room feeling decidedly proud of myself and not at all funny/dizzy.
So, yay, I've shown interest in my family's interests! I'm totally a rockin' wife and mom. Now back to my paints.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
"You're so tiny!"
Yeah, I'm "tiny". I get it. My sons have decided that now that they're both bigger than I am, they can exert their "power" and pick me up and take me to wherever something is that they want. Most often it's the kitchen because they pretty much eat all the freakin' time these days. I pretend they're giving me big bear hugs as they carry me to and fro and then I pretend I'm hard of hearing when they say what they want. I mean, really, the old standby, "Mom, will you help me find something to eat, please?" (without the carrying part) works SO MUCH BETTER.
So, I've tried some strategies to diminish this behavior.
- intermittent shaving of my armpits so they come in contact with stubble...hey, they took the risk touching me there, right?
- kissing them repeatedly as they carry me around.
- saying "You love me, you love me!"
- distracting them by pointing out that cute girls are walking by outside.
- suggesting that they carry their dad around instead (they've tried...apparently it's not nearly so much fun).
- and some other things I won't write because, believe it or not, I don't want to embarrass them...much.
Well, you'd think that Dave would be my big protector regarding all of this. But, know what his response is? "Don't drop your mother, she pays for our insurance." Ah, my hero.
P.S. I kind of totally love being carried around by my boys...yeah, not in a hurry for it to stop.
So, I've tried some strategies to diminish this behavior.
- intermittent shaving of my armpits so they come in contact with stubble...hey, they took the risk touching me there, right?
- kissing them repeatedly as they carry me around.
- saying "You love me, you love me!"
- distracting them by pointing out that cute girls are walking by outside.
- suggesting that they carry their dad around instead (they've tried...apparently it's not nearly so much fun).
- and some other things I won't write because, believe it or not, I don't want to embarrass them...much.
Well, you'd think that Dave would be my big protector regarding all of this. But, know what his response is? "Don't drop your mother, she pays for our insurance." Ah, my hero.
P.S. I kind of totally love being carried around by my boys...yeah, not in a hurry for it to stop.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Loves me some Sleep
Sleep, yup, pretty much one of my favorite things. I love it so much that I actually even slept through an earthquake once. When I get into bed I get super excited, "Yay, yay, yay!" I slide my sleeping mask on that Dave bought me, and fall asleep within 60 seconds, I kid you not. Last night was no exception. Head hit pillow, boom! Zzzzzzz....
Dave's night?
- Kids woke him up because they wouldn't go to sleep.
- Hazel barked and woke him up.
- A spider crawled on his arm and woke him up.
- Hazel barked again and woke him up.
- A cockroach crawled on his face and woke him up. (Again, I have to say that having cockroaches in one's home in these parts is not an indication of a dirty house, deal?)
- My alarm clock woke him up (this was the first time I woke up all night long).
- I woke him up four times when I let the dogs out and in and out and in.
I'm so glad sleep loves me as much as I love it. And I'm quite sure the six and eight-legged critters only reside on Dave's side. Quite sure!
Dave's night?
- Kids woke him up because they wouldn't go to sleep.
- Hazel barked and woke him up.
- A spider crawled on his arm and woke him up.
- Hazel barked again and woke him up.
- A cockroach crawled on his face and woke him up. (Again, I have to say that having cockroaches in one's home in these parts is not an indication of a dirty house, deal?)
- My alarm clock woke him up (this was the first time I woke up all night long).
- I woke him up four times when I let the dogs out and in and out and in.
I'm so glad sleep loves me as much as I love it. And I'm quite sure the six and eight-legged critters only reside on Dave's side. Quite sure!
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Mom Ideas Suck...there must be a rule about that or something.
This morning as soon as my little guy woke up I told him the exciting plans I had for the day.
Me: "So, we're going to ride our bikes downtown this afternoon to see the awesome marching band thing we saw last year."
Little guy: "OK."
A little later this morning I mentioned to him again about how excited I was about it.
Me: "This will be so much fun! And I'll even take you out to eat while we're out."
Little guy: "What are you talking about?"
Me: "The marching band thingie, we already talked about it this morning."
Little guy: "No we didn't. I have no idea what you're talking about."
Even later...when we were working on a snack before we were going to go.
Little guy: "I've never been to this thing you're talking about."
Me: "Yes, you have. Here, look on my computer at last year's pictures."
Little guy: "Oh, that."
Me: "You loved it, don't you remember?"
Little guy: "Why do you always make me go to things like this?"
I go outside to talk with some of my lovely neighbors and I'm walking back in as little dude runs out with his phone. A friend had called wanting him to go do something with him later that afternoon.
Little guy: "Can I go with him?"
Me: "No, you're going to HONK! with me."
Little guy: "I can't," he tells his friend all defeated like.
Me: "Do me a favor, ask him what he was wanting you to go to."
He asks, his eyes brighten, and animation takes over his face.
Little guy: (talking to his friend) "Hey, my mom and I are going to that, too. Awesome, we'll see you there!!"
Suddenly my plan for the day is awesome in my kid's eye. I owe his friend a big high five (that's appropriate, this particular friend is totally into high fives).
Me: "So, we're going to ride our bikes downtown this afternoon to see the awesome marching band thing we saw last year."
Little guy: "OK."
A little later this morning I mentioned to him again about how excited I was about it.
Me: "This will be so much fun! And I'll even take you out to eat while we're out."
Little guy: "What are you talking about?"
Me: "The marching band thingie, we already talked about it this morning."
Little guy: "No we didn't. I have no idea what you're talking about."
Even later...when we were working on a snack before we were going to go.
Little guy: "I've never been to this thing you're talking about."
Me: "Yes, you have. Here, look on my computer at last year's pictures."
Little guy: "Oh, that."
Me: "You loved it, don't you remember?"
Little guy: "Why do you always make me go to things like this?"
I go outside to talk with some of my lovely neighbors and I'm walking back in as little dude runs out with his phone. A friend had called wanting him to go do something with him later that afternoon.
Little guy: "Can I go with him?"
Me: "No, you're going to HONK! with me."
Little guy: "I can't," he tells his friend all defeated like.
Me: "Do me a favor, ask him what he was wanting you to go to."
He asks, his eyes brighten, and animation takes over his face.
Little guy: (talking to his friend) "Hey, my mom and I are going to that, too. Awesome, we'll see you there!!"
Suddenly my plan for the day is awesome in my kid's eye. I owe his friend a big high five (that's appropriate, this particular friend is totally into high fives).
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Stayin' Alive
This morning the little guy and I helped set up for the Save Texas Schools rally at the State Capitol. I admit it, I tricked him into it...I wanted to expose him (again) to being a part of activism, particularly with something that he directly benefits from. Ya, I'm a mom with an agenda. After happily (yes, he was happy!) schlepping many chairs, tables, and bottles of water we headed to the car so we could get to a birthday party (that was my bribe carrot..first help, then party). We passed a group of people as we exited the grounds.
Little guy: "Mom, that big guy was really looking at you."
Me: "Like I'm cute or like he wanted to kill me?"
Little guy: "Well, I can't see why anyone would want to kill you."
Yup, I'm gonna take that as a total compliment, yes indeedy I am.
Little guy: "Mom, that big guy was really looking at you."
Me: "Like I'm cute or like he wanted to kill me?"
Little guy: "Well, I can't see why anyone would want to kill you."
Yup, I'm gonna take that as a total compliment, yes indeedy I am.
Friday, March 23, 2012
"You're Fired!"...um, twice!
It's a funny thing. I've been fired twice in my entire life, it was by the same company, and yet those words were never uttered. I was reminded of it tonight when I took my kiddos through the drive through of a very Austin sandwich shop of which I speak.
So, how do you fire someone without actually telling them they're fired? Well, the strategy used on me was putting me in a place of non-existence. Yes, in their eyes I ceased to "be". I remember showing up to see when I was scheduled to work and I was, mysteriously, not on the hand-written schedule sheet. No one ever knew anything...I was greeted by a chorus of "I dunno" and some reluctance to even talk to me as though I had some "newly fired" disease or something.
The first time I was fired it turned out that the day and night manager had actually framed me. They were coming in on my shifts and stealing money from the register. My shifts. Freaky, right? I was actually framed by criminal master minds. OK, in reality they were stupid druggies, but still, they managed to get me fired. Anyway, I got an attorney...a free one available at the university who actually told me there was nothing they could do, too bad, so sad. But I rode my bike to the owners' office and plead my case (and told them I had seen an attorney, of course...I didn't lie, I had seen an attorney!). I actually fought to get my sandwich making job back. For reals, though people, I loved that job. Anyway, just as mysteriously, the next week I was back on the schedule and there were new day and night managers hired.
The other time? Well, it was for having a pierced nose with a ring in it. Now-a-days when you hit this sandwich shop I swear it must be a requirement that you either have those big stretch-your-earlobe things in or have at least two face piercings to even apply for a job. No doubt about it, 25 years ago I was WAY ahead of my time. Awesome, right?
So, how do you fire someone without actually telling them they're fired? Well, the strategy used on me was putting me in a place of non-existence. Yes, in their eyes I ceased to "be". I remember showing up to see when I was scheduled to work and I was, mysteriously, not on the hand-written schedule sheet. No one ever knew anything...I was greeted by a chorus of "I dunno" and some reluctance to even talk to me as though I had some "newly fired" disease or something.
The first time I was fired it turned out that the day and night manager had actually framed me. They were coming in on my shifts and stealing money from the register. My shifts. Freaky, right? I was actually framed by criminal master minds. OK, in reality they were stupid druggies, but still, they managed to get me fired. Anyway, I got an attorney...a free one available at the university who actually told me there was nothing they could do, too bad, so sad. But I rode my bike to the owners' office and plead my case (and told them I had seen an attorney, of course...I didn't lie, I had seen an attorney!). I actually fought to get my sandwich making job back. For reals, though people, I loved that job. Anyway, just as mysteriously, the next week I was back on the schedule and there were new day and night managers hired.
The other time? Well, it was for having a pierced nose with a ring in it. Now-a-days when you hit this sandwich shop I swear it must be a requirement that you either have those big stretch-your-earlobe things in or have at least two face piercings to even apply for a job. No doubt about it, 25 years ago I was WAY ahead of my time. Awesome, right?
Thursday, March 22, 2012
From that day on, if I was going somewhere, I was running! Or maybe twirling.
Attended my first track meet ever tonight. Looking around, several things come to mind.
- How on earth does my 7th grader ever get anything done in the presence of SO MANY cute girls?
- I'm so impressed with how well all the kids are getting along and how supportive they are of each other. Feeling the love between the teams...nice!
- Girls are rockin' it, but the boys are decidedly faster. And, gosh, they almost look like men! And, oh my, I caught a glimpse of my little guy, his arms all muscly and cut, looking like a a man himself. Took my breath for a second.
It was a great track meet, and great track meets lead to great conversations, right?
Little guy: "Hey dad, did you ever do track events?"
Dave: "Yeah, I did blah-de-blah-de-blah-de-blah." Obviously I can't remember what he said, but the dude was definitely a big time track meet participant.
Me: "Did you want to know about me?"
Little guy: "Did you?"
Me: "No."
Dave: "She did just what she's doing right now."
Yes, I was doing my dumb blond twirling my hair around my finger thing.
Me: "Hey, I'll have you know I was the hippety-hoppity champion in my elementary school and I won a bunch of blue ribbons."
Yeah, you could hear crickets chirping...pretty sure that meant they were uber impressed. No doubt.
- How on earth does my 7th grader ever get anything done in the presence of SO MANY cute girls?
- I'm so impressed with how well all the kids are getting along and how supportive they are of each other. Feeling the love between the teams...nice!
- Girls are rockin' it, but the boys are decidedly faster. And, gosh, they almost look like men! And, oh my, I caught a glimpse of my little guy, his arms all muscly and cut, looking like a a man himself. Took my breath for a second.
It was a great track meet, and great track meets lead to great conversations, right?
Little guy: "Hey dad, did you ever do track events?"
Dave: "Yeah, I did blah-de-blah-de-blah-de-blah." Obviously I can't remember what he said, but the dude was definitely a big time track meet participant.
Me: "Did you want to know about me?"
Little guy: "Did you?"
Me: "No."
Dave: "She did just what she's doing right now."
Yes, I was doing my dumb blond twirling my hair around my finger thing.
Me: "Hey, I'll have you know I was the hippety-hoppity champion in my elementary school and I won a bunch of blue ribbons."
Yeah, you could hear crickets chirping...pretty sure that meant they were uber impressed. No doubt.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
The Easter Bunny
It's a funny thing. When my kids were little they found the mall (yes, the mall again...I swear I'm traumatized by the experience of going there so much lately and I'll have tons of stories...sorry) Easter Bunny scary as all get out. Then, as they got older, realized that the Easter Bunny could be equated with chocolate, the bunny was pretty much just fine and dandy. What happened at the mall my last trip there? Well, we've regressed, seriously back to square one.
Me: "Oh, look, there's the Easter Bunny. Want to have your picture taken with him?"
Little guy: "Mall Easter Bunnies are creepy, mom."
I guess finding out that the Easter Bunny was really me and Dave negated any value that the chocolate correlation once had. Ah, well....
Me: "Oh, look, there's the Easter Bunny. Want to have your picture taken with him?"
Little guy: "Mall Easter Bunnies are creepy, mom."
I guess finding out that the Easter Bunny was really me and Dave negated any value that the chocolate correlation once had. Ah, well....
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Ya, I've got issues...vision issues.
I've had to make an ungodly number of trips to the mall lately. As a rule, I H.A.T.E shopping of most any kind and I'm really not a fan of the mall experience in particular. I know it must have something to do with my being navigationally challenged and my tendency to get totally lost once I'm within its walls. I do always park near the same entrance and generally the same parking area so as not to risk losing my car. Oy...anyway, this time I was driving there to go to the eye doctor to see how the contact lenses they were trying on me were working out. They were wonky for sure, one for long distance, one for near. I pulled into the mall parking lot, started working my way around the humongous structure, headed into the sun, reached to pull my visor down and...there was a freakin' tarantula right there on the ceiling of my car!!! Luckily I have some small ability to keep my cool, and luckily I didn't hit any poles, pedestrians, or cars...and luckily it was really only a mosquito hawk, which I was able to grasp in my hand and set free.
Yeah, you guessed it, I went in and told my eye doctor that I didn't think the contacts were working out so great. And, no, I didn't tell them about my run in with the "eight-legged" critter. I have some pride, ya know.
Yeah, you guessed it, I went in and told my eye doctor that I didn't think the contacts were working out so great. And, no, I didn't tell them about my run in with the "eight-legged" critter. I have some pride, ya know.
Yes, I know it's a dragonfly, and not a mosquito hawk. I can see that...yeesh!
Monday, March 19, 2012
Copyright that, Stat!
So, during SXSW Dave started something goofy. He does a lot of things that are goofy, but this one stood out amongst the rest his goofy repertoire. Somehow he started thinking that he needed to copyright everything cool that he came up with. Something like this (and it's a bad example as I didn't write any of them down, though I'm sure you can find them in some library of congress record of awesome things that have been copyrighted).
Dave: "This traffic is super-traffic-atrocious...copyright!!!"
Me: "Ugh," as I look around for the nearest path to escape.
This afternoon, however, my little guy came up with something that I will surely use again and again and again.
Setup: We're in the car about to leave the mall (he got a new skateboard).
Me: "Do you want a piece of gum?"
Little guy: "Sure!" He holds it and scrutinizes it, turning it over a few times. "Where was this?"
Me: "In the pocket."
Little guy: "It's squished flat."
Me: "I know."
Little guy: "You must've fartblasted it!"
Me: "What?"
Little guy: "Was it in your left or right pocket?"
Me: "It was in my purse pocket, goofy."
Little guy: "Oh..." and then he was able to put it in his mouth...finally...I get it, after all he thought I had fartblasted it!
So, my friends, consider this awesome word "fartblast" to now be officially copyrighted!! It'll be 5¢ per use.
Dave: "This traffic is super-traffic-atrocious...copyright!!!"
Me: "Ugh," as I look around for the nearest path to escape.
This afternoon, however, my little guy came up with something that I will surely use again and again and again.
Setup: We're in the car about to leave the mall (he got a new skateboard).
Me: "Do you want a piece of gum?"
Little guy: "Sure!" He holds it and scrutinizes it, turning it over a few times. "Where was this?"
Me: "In the pocket."
Little guy: "It's squished flat."
Me: "I know."
Little guy: "You must've fartblasted it!"
Me: "What?"
Little guy: "Was it in your left or right pocket?"
Me: "It was in my purse pocket, goofy."
Little guy: "Oh..." and then he was able to put it in his mouth...finally...I get it, after all he thought I had fartblasted it!
So, my friends, consider this awesome word "fartblast" to now be officially copyrighted!! It'll be 5¢ per use.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Spring is in the Air
Know how I know? Yeah, yeah, yeah, there's the usual signs like flowers blooming and trees sprouting tiny little leaves. But what really lets me know it's spring is that our big poodle, Scout, is no nekkid. As in like a jaybird. The girl is practically shiny. Hazel's been giving her the "Who are you?" and "What the heck did they do to you?" once overs. I'm sure she's also thinking "There's no way in heck I'm gonna let them get those clippers near me!" So, yes, once the poodle has been sheared, spring is officially sprung.
Oh, I also saw a couple making out behind a dumpster today outside the restaurant where Dave and I ate tonight. I had thought that that may also be a sign of spring's arrival, but after thinking about it more and more, it may have just been a happy coincidence.
Oh, I also saw a couple making out behind a dumpster today outside the restaurant where Dave and I ate tonight. I had thought that that may also be a sign of spring's arrival, but after thinking about it more and more, it may have just been a happy coincidence.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Child Labor
After being a mom for almost 17 years now, I'm finally tapping into the free labor that children are. OK, my kids would call it "slave labor"... and it's not exactly "free" as endless nagging should count as some sort of payment, right? And it's not that they haven't done anything around the house over the last decade, it's just that they haven't had any particular chores assigned to them. It's been ask, refuse, ask again, refuse again, threaten, finally comply. So, the boys are now finally doing the dishes as almost a routine. So what if it's not loaded like the perfect puzzle I'd do, and so what if one of them has a total panic attack if he has to touch something gooey (is it bad that I seriously giggle inside every time this happens?). And, bonus for the little goobers, they finally figured out that it really only takes about 3 minutes to do the job! They used to spend so much more time than that on task avoidance techniques. Ya, it's awesome!
Friday, March 16, 2012
Magical Moment
You know that magical moment in a relationship where you totally know your spouse is there for you at the deepest level possible? Well, get ready for some warm fuzzies.
Me: "Dave, I need you to confirm for me that I'm being crazy and neurotic."
Dave: (eyebrows raised in that cock-eyed way he does SO often) "Was that ever in question?"
I love when he agrees with me.
Ya, feel the love, my peeps. Jealous much?
Me: "Dave, I need you to confirm for me that I'm being crazy and neurotic."
Dave: (eyebrows raised in that cock-eyed way he does SO often) "Was that ever in question?"
I love when he agrees with me.
Ya, feel the love, my peeps. Jealous much?
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Somethin's Stanky!
You ever have a day that just plain old stinks? Not in that negative, complainy way, I mean literally "stinks"! So, there's been this mystery smell. It's been narrowed down to the kitchen area. Counters have been cleaned, trash taken out, recycling bin dumped, vinegar down the disposal. We've even taken the measure of blaming all the people and pets in the house...our domicile abounds with crop dusters. I guess the point had come for me to follow my sniffer. I'm hesitant as I have this unfortunate olifactory/depth perception issue and I always, ALWAYS, end up touching the stinky object to my nose (see earlier blog: My Nose Knows). Ugh! And this smell was BAD. So, I crawl around the room, sniffing like a hound dog...in the cupboards, the dishwasher, the fridge...cold, cold, getting warmer, cold, getting warmer, warmer, warmer, hot, hot, HOT! Lo and behold it was the culprit we all choose to be in denial of as the memory of its previous presence(s) is so freakin' bad. Yes, yet another potato had chosen to liquify in the basket hanging over the sink. Double bagged and straight out to the trash...too bad trash day just happened.
Apologies to all the family members who were falsely blamed (including me)...and tons of gratitude to the universe that I did not touch my nose to the errant spud. Whew!
Apologies to all the family members who were falsely blamed (including me)...and tons of gratitude to the universe that I did not touch my nose to the errant spud. Whew!
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Excuses, excuses....
We have a serious problem in the Parsons household. Nothing, NOTHING, is getting done. There's a never-ending list of excuses to not just do it. Luckily I've pretty much ended the whole "Just a sec" excuse.
Me: "Come empty the dishwasher!"
My boys: "Just a sec!"
Me: "Just a sex?"
My boys: "Just a sec...gawd mom, you're annoying!" (see earlier blog...apparently I have an ongoing issue with annoyingness...Kali is Annoying)
Me: "Sex? You want to talk about sex before you do the dishes?"
...anyway, I can't exactly say that this dialog worked and they jumped up right away to do said dishes, but they did slow their requests for conversations aboutsex sec's.
So, now there's another excuse that is really having an effect on productivity. It's the hug excuse. The sudden imperative need for my children to hug me, hug Dave, hug our cat, Pug, and our dogs, Hazel and Scout, every time something is requested of them. It's become a hug fest of procrastination and avoidance! So, my kids are obviously brilliant. How can I, mediocre mom that I am, tell them to stop hugging?!?!
Well, I'm not going to, but I'll tell you this. Their mom is pretty darn bright herself...I'm thinking that any time I'm feeling a little low and in need of a hug, I'll just make up some silly chore and they're sure to come a runnin' and a huggin'! Brilliant!! Bwaaa-ha-ha!
Me: "Come empty the dishwasher!"
My boys: "Just a sec!"
Me: "Just a sex?"
My boys: "Just a sec...gawd mom, you're annoying!" (see earlier blog...apparently I have an ongoing issue with annoyingness...Kali is Annoying)
Me: "Sex? You want to talk about sex before you do the dishes?"
...anyway, I can't exactly say that this dialog worked and they jumped up right away to do said dishes, but they did slow their requests for conversations about
So, now there's another excuse that is really having an effect on productivity. It's the hug excuse. The sudden imperative need for my children to hug me, hug Dave, hug our cat, Pug, and our dogs, Hazel and Scout, every time something is requested of them. It's become a hug fest of procrastination and avoidance! So, my kids are obviously brilliant. How can I, mediocre mom that I am, tell them to stop hugging?!?!
Well, I'm not going to, but I'll tell you this. Their mom is pretty darn bright herself...I'm thinking that any time I'm feeling a little low and in need of a hug, I'll just make up some silly chore and they're sure to come a runnin' and a huggin'! Brilliant!! Bwaaa-ha-ha!
The oh so hugable Pug!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Lovin' my Ladies
I just want to give a huge shout out to my ladies. My girlfriends I see most every day, the ones from several states away who surprise me with an "I love you" phone call, the ones I rejoin after long breaks only to pick up right were we left off. My ladies rock! Thanks for the love, the willingness to fly your freak flag alongside me, the inspiration you provide each and every day, and most of all, for letting me be and do the same for you.
Hugs Kisses Love
This design available on shirts/bags/mugs/cards and more: Wonderlandia Dragonfly
Monday, March 12, 2012
The Skinny on the Skinny
I bought my first pair of skinny jeans today, oh yes I did. Well, I should say that I've worn many pairs of skinny jeans, particularly back in high school, but none of them were bought as skinny jeans. I was the queen of tapering back then. And, if you're wondering, I did NOT buy them to prove something to my kid (see my previous blog post). The real reason I'm telling you is that now that I've finally bought them, this trend is surely coming to an abrupt halt. So, you might not want to invest in a pair of them yourselves, at this point. It also means that I'll probably keep wearing the darn things for years to come, tucking them into my boots, long after they're way out of style. Just thought I'd warn ya. See? This is me looking after my peeps.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Does this sound make my butt look big?
Out with magical friends for an amazing evening. Got home and realized that I was STARVING! I put together one of my weird meals...I have my reasons...I won't go into it, you'll just make fun of me.
Anyway, my kid comes up to me while I'm making odd yummy food noises.
Me: "I love eating food!"
Little guy: "That makes you sound extremely fat."
Me: "Well, I'm not fat, bla bla bla." (me making a goofy face, wagging my hands at my ears, and then continuing to stuff my mouth)
Little guy: (looking at me over the top of his glasses) "I'll let you think that."
Sometimes that uber cute little dude can be an uber goober!
Anyway, my kid comes up to me while I'm making odd yummy food noises.
Me: "I love eating food!"
Little guy: "That makes you sound extremely fat."
Me: "Well, I'm not fat, bla bla bla." (me making a goofy face, wagging my hands at my ears, and then continuing to stuff my mouth)
Little guy: (looking at me over the top of his glasses) "I'll let you think that."
Sometimes that uber cute little dude can be an uber goober!
This design available on shirts/bags/mugs/cards and more: Wonderlandia Flower
Saturday, March 10, 2012
It Freaked my Freak!
Woke up super early this morning, decided steel cut oats was just the
thing, got the water boiling, reached in the cupboard to get the tin of
oats and....
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!" A freakin' cockroach appeared on my left ring finger. I dropped the oats and the cup measure, did a serious freak out dance with some elaborate jazz hands, quivered ALL over, and felt a deep, imperative longing rise inside me, "KILL IT!!!"
Took me a second to realize it was me thinking it. I mean, really, I've done more capture/release routines with cockroaches than I care to admit. And now I wanted to kill one, viciously so, I admit, just for the offense of scaring the tar out of me. Was I harmed? Nope. Was everything involved cleanable? Yup. Was I in mommy bear mode protecting my children? Nah, the dudes were still sawing logs.
So, what the heck? I think I need therapy.
Oh, and the cockroach was never seen after I managed to fling it who knows where...may we never meet again.
And just so ya know, cockroaches hanging out in houses in my neck of the woods is not indicative of a dirty house...the icky little critters just like to live with us, especially when it's raining.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!" A freakin' cockroach appeared on my left ring finger. I dropped the oats and the cup measure, did a serious freak out dance with some elaborate jazz hands, quivered ALL over, and felt a deep, imperative longing rise inside me, "KILL IT!!!"
Took me a second to realize it was me thinking it. I mean, really, I've done more capture/release routines with cockroaches than I care to admit. And now I wanted to kill one, viciously so, I admit, just for the offense of scaring the tar out of me. Was I harmed? Nope. Was everything involved cleanable? Yup. Was I in mommy bear mode protecting my children? Nah, the dudes were still sawing logs.
So, what the heck? I think I need therapy.
Oh, and the cockroach was never seen after I managed to fling it who knows where...may we never meet again.
And just so ya know, cockroaches hanging out in houses in my neck of the woods is not indicative of a dirty house...the icky little critters just like to live with us, especially when it's raining.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Turns out I'm "annoying"...
...so they say. Picked up my big guy after school today...a little something nice I do for him when it's raining. I start up a conversation with him because, you know, I really like the kid.
Big guy: "Why do you and dad always want to talk to me the whole time?"
Me: "Because we love you and we're excited to see you."
Big guy: "But it's so annoying!"
Me: "What's the most annoying part?"
Big guy: "Mom, you're talking again."
-slight pause-
Me: "So, yay about spring break!"
Big guy: No comment...eyes roll.
Me? Yeah, you guessed it, I just kept on talking. Can't bring this "annoying" mama down.
Big guy: "Why do you and dad always want to talk to me the whole time?"
Me: "Because we love you and we're excited to see you."
Big guy: "But it's so annoying!"
Me: "What's the most annoying part?"
Big guy: "Mom, you're talking again."
-slight pause-
Me: "So, yay about spring break!"
Big guy: No comment...eyes roll.
Me? Yeah, you guessed it, I just kept on talking. Can't bring this "annoying" mama down.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Farewell, Queen of the Thong Men....
You know, Leslie, those legs of yours during the 90s were absolutely the object of my envy. Time after time you'd catch me off guard. I'd think you were some finer-than-a-frog's-hair chick and was sure my husband was lusting after you...only to get closer and see that you had an abundance of leg hair poking out from the torn fishnets, a scraggly beard, and of course, you were packing some equipment up front...only it wasn't filling your bikini top. I never knew if you were going to talk to me as I stood near you waiting to cross the street, yell something at me, scream something into general space, or utterly and completely ignore everyone else's presence. It was always weird, guaranteed. I loved that you were part of the scenery and I always felt lucky to have a Leslie sighting or encounter.
My little guy put it best:
"He wore thongs."
"He wore tutus."
"Sometimes he walked around."
"He was one of the strangest cross dressers out there."
..."He was weird."
Fo sho...RIP, Leslie. And, thanks.
My little guy put it best:
"He wore thongs."
"He wore tutus."
"Sometimes he walked around."
"He was one of the strangest cross dressers out there."
..."He was weird."
Fo sho...RIP, Leslie. And, thanks.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Boys-n-Fairies
Yes, I inflict fairydom on my teenage sons. I don't think I'm gonna stop, either. Well, as long as I'm driving and they're trapped in my car anyway. Tonight I picked up my little guy from a UIL band thing, drove him by Taco Bell (I became his instant hero...at least for a few minutes until...), and as we got into our neighborhood I pulled into one of my favorite places on this planet, Fairy Alley.
Little dude: "Again?"
Me: "Yup...I love it here...What do you think of it?"
Little dude: "Well, it's too sparkly-ee, it's too butterfly-ee, I don't get it."
Me: Silence as I peer around, soaking in the magic.
Little dude: "I guess it's OK."
"OK"?!?! Hooray! In teenage boy land, saying something fairyish is "OK" is super high praise, indeed.
Little dude: "Again?"
Me: "Yup...I love it here...What do you think of it?"
Little dude: "Well, it's too sparkly-ee, it's too butterfly-ee, I don't get it."
Me: Silence as I peer around, soaking in the magic.
Little dude: "I guess it's OK."
"OK"?!?! Hooray! In teenage boy land, saying something fairyish is "OK" is super high praise, indeed.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Teaching vs. Pregnancy
I've heard that being pregnant is a lot like being a teacher. Hmmmmmm...I dunno.
I suppose that there's a similar time component, nine months-ish. And, of course, children are involved. Both require a lot of flexibility. Mood is definitely affected by both. At the end of the day putting one's feet up sure helps. Both yield a HUGE reward. Course the peeing thing sets them apart. Pregnant ladies always need to pee...teachers hardly ever get the chance to pee. Then there's the thing I've heard from some teachers that we need summer to both recover from and forget just how challenging our jobs are so we're willing to go back...yeah, I definitely had to forget how uncomfortable pregnancy was before I was willing to "risk it" again.
With spring break almost here, and the end of the school year fast approaching after that, I'm finding myself getting a little sentimental about my students and my job. So, I went and dorked out and made a little sign to hang in my classroom window. Yeah, I love, love, love my job...even if it is a lot like being pregnant.
I suppose that there's a similar time component, nine months-ish. And, of course, children are involved. Both require a lot of flexibility. Mood is definitely affected by both. At the end of the day putting one's feet up sure helps. Both yield a HUGE reward. Course the peeing thing sets them apart. Pregnant ladies always need to pee...teachers hardly ever get the chance to pee. Then there's the thing I've heard from some teachers that we need summer to both recover from and forget just how challenging our jobs are so we're willing to go back...yeah, I definitely had to forget how uncomfortable pregnancy was before I was willing to "risk it" again.
With spring break almost here, and the end of the school year fast approaching after that, I'm finding myself getting a little sentimental about my students and my job. So, I went and dorked out and made a little sign to hang in my classroom window. Yeah, I love, love, love my job...even if it is a lot like being pregnant.
Monday, March 5, 2012
War and Peace...the Music Version
So, I've gone on and on about my kids' music preferences and my admitted love of it. Well, all this time I've been thinking that I'm SUCH a cool mom as I sing along and do awesome dance moves to Pitbull, Nicki Minaj, Chris Brown, and on and on. I mean really, coolest mom ever, right? Well, turns out I can't win on this one.
Scene 1
Little guy: "God, mom, stop it! You look like a dork!"
Me: "You're lucky kid, my parents totally did NOT like the music I was in to."
Little guy: "I'd prefer that!"
Me: "Really? You hate my moves and singing that much?!?!"
Little guy: "YES!"
Me: "So I should be like my parents were?"
Little guy: "YES!"
Me: "OK, here's how music went. KMFA was on the radio...all the time...in the car...in the house...in the morning, afternoon, and night."
Little guy: "Uh-huh."
Me: "So, that's what we'll do, right?" I turn the dial to 89.5 and we cruise home in silence. Except for the Mozart, Strauss, Haydn, or whoever it was.
Scene2
The next morning when we got in the car so I could take him to school. Tchaikovsky or some such thing came on the radio as I backed out of the driveway.
Little guy: "I can't take this." He turns the dial to a hip-hop station.
Me: "So my singing and dancing aren't that bad, eh?"
Little guy: No response as he stared out the window.
Hmmmm...maybe I did win after all. "Boom badoom boom, boom badoom boom..."
Scene 1
Little guy: "God, mom, stop it! You look like a dork!"
Me: "You're lucky kid, my parents totally did NOT like the music I was in to."
Little guy: "I'd prefer that!"
Me: "Really? You hate my moves and singing that much?!?!"
Little guy: "YES!"
Me: "So I should be like my parents were?"
Little guy: "YES!"
Me: "OK, here's how music went. KMFA was on the radio...all the time...in the car...in the house...in the morning, afternoon, and night."
Little guy: "Uh-huh."
Me: "So, that's what we'll do, right?" I turn the dial to 89.5 and we cruise home in silence. Except for the Mozart, Strauss, Haydn, or whoever it was.
Scene2
The next morning when we got in the car so I could take him to school. Tchaikovsky or some such thing came on the radio as I backed out of the driveway.
Little guy: "I can't take this." He turns the dial to a hip-hop station.
Me: "So my singing and dancing aren't that bad, eh?"
Little guy: No response as he stared out the window.
Hmmmm...maybe I did win after all. "Boom badoom boom, boom badoom boom..."
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Let's go fly a kite!
Kites freak me out. They always have. I think it must be related to my fear of heights...guessing my empathy for the kite is way too strong and totally out of whack. That and I don't relish the thought of a kite plummeting toward earth and hitting me smack dab in the middle of my head, point first. Well, I faced my fears today and met them head on and volunteered to walk down to the annual kite festival with my little guy. You know, I've never thought about this as I avoid all things kite as a rule, but flying a kite requires a personal assistant. A gopher. And, yup, this was me. I embraced it as it kept me looking at the ground rather than the sky. After being there a while, running back and forth, untangling lines, giving the kite lift-off support, I found myself becoming quite relaxed. I was able to look at the sky, gaze upon the hundreds of kites, lie down on the ground with Hazel alongside me, and have a darn good time. I think I'm over it, people! Maybe all the rocketry fun has been kite phobia therapy...hmmmmmm....
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Hazel the Hoarder
A laundry basket, whether designated "clean" or "dirty," is a veritable buffet for Hazel. She's not picky...she loves it all. She will very deliberately go to the laundry basket in our bedroom and pick out Dave's socks (I think they're her faves!) one at a time and take them to her bed. She will make many return trips to a basket of clean towels and pick out cloth napkins or pot holders and lay them where she sleeps. She loooooves them! One dare not leave laundry beside the tub or shower as when you finish, none of it will still be there. And, just this morning she pulled the napkin right off of my lap while I was still eating breakfast! The girl is out of control...she's in serious need of a twelve-step group.
P.S. No items were harmed in the making of this blog post...they were simply moistened, nuzzled, and snuggled.
P.S. No items were harmed in the making of this blog post...they were simply moistened, nuzzled, and snuggled.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Sexy and I Know it...
...but for some reason I'm not allowed to show it.
OK, so apparently there's a fine line of distinction...somehow it's OK for my kid to be watching the YouTube video of "I'm Sexy and I Know it," singing along to it quite loudly, his friends listening as he does so on Xbox live or Skype, or some such thing. But, I walk in, stand behind him, start makin' a little noise, doin' a little dance, gettin' down tonight...he catches sight of me through the miracle of peripheral vision and...
"Oh, my god, MOM!"
Vomiting sounds.
"Aaaaaggh, my mom is dancing!"
"Make it stop!!!"
"Aaaaaaaaaa!"
Freaking my kid out...check!
Got my heart rate up and burned a few calories...check!
Feelin' sexy and I know it...well, as my kid would say, "ish".
OK, so apparently there's a fine line of distinction...somehow it's OK for my kid to be watching the YouTube video of "I'm Sexy and I Know it," singing along to it quite loudly, his friends listening as he does so on Xbox live or Skype, or some such thing. But, I walk in, stand behind him, start makin' a little noise, doin' a little dance, gettin' down tonight...he catches sight of me through the miracle of peripheral vision and...
"Oh, my god, MOM!"
Vomiting sounds.
"Aaaaaggh, my mom is dancing!"
"Make it stop!!!"
"Aaaaaaaaaa!"
Freaking my kid out...check!
Got my heart rate up and burned a few calories...check!
Feelin' sexy and I know it...well, as my kid would say, "ish".
This design available on shirts/bags/mugs/cards and more: Purple Curly Tree
Thursday, March 1, 2012
When daddy's away...
...this mom turns into her kids' fantasy culinary artist (please pronounce that "arteeeeest"). Yes, Dave had to work late tonight, so...being the amazing mom I am, I did make tater tots for dinner! It absolutely was the main course. As I small side dish I added half a breaded fish fillet AND some chicken sausage to their plates. Veggies, you ask? But of course! What the heck do you think ketchup is?!?! And, to top it all of, no, I did not shout out that the meal was ready. Rather, I texted my boys, "DINNER!" and they came a runnin'!
Little guy: "Ooooh, yeah, mom...this looks awesome!!!"
Big guy: "This is definitely the best meal you've ever made!!!"
...and that Uchiko guy thinks he's the Top Chef 'round these parts. Ha!
Little guy: "Ooooh, yeah, mom...this looks awesome!!!"
Big guy: "This is definitely the best meal you've ever made!!!"
...and that Uchiko guy thinks he's the Top Chef 'round these parts. Ha!
uber.cool.mom
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