Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Cramping his Style

Dave:  "You should eat cabbage so you'll be big and strong like yo daddy."

Little guy:  "Uh, dad, check out these guns."  He held his arm up at a right angle.

Dave:  "Well, check out these pecs."  Shirt off, pecs flexed.

Little guy:  Pulls shirt off immediately.  "Mine are more defined."

Dave:  "Touch these, Kal."

Little guy:  "Touch mine, mom."

Me:  "Why do you two always bring me into the middle of this?"  I touch them with all the enthusiasm I could muster (not much).  "They're both firm."

Dave:  "Ow, I think I gave myself a cramp flexing my muscles."

Little guy:  "Wimp."

Me:  "I think this makes him the winner, Dave."

Just what would happen if he did eat all that cabbage?

Go ahead, "like" my blog...it won't cramp your style at all.  :-)

Monday, July 30, 2012

Driving Miss Crazy

With school about to start up again soon, I'm going through my annual "I have nothing to wear!" syndrome.  Really I have plenty to wear, I've either just forgotten it's in my closet or I simply don't like it.  So...I decided today I'd start test driving some stuff.  First out?  A little blue jean dress.  Frankly, I'm not a fan of blue jean dresses as a rule.  Always makes me think of being big, uncomfortable, and pregnant.  My "go to" dress when I was "with" child(ren) was a big, ugly, and very comfy blue jean dress.  Anyway, this dress is totally not like that one, so I slipped it on and wore it around the house.  Worked fine for making cookies.  Worked fine for taking a nap.  Worked fine for catching a second or two of the Olympics.  Then...

Dave:  "Let's take the donkey to a coffee shop."  ("Donkey" = Hazel, our dog)

Me:  "Can I go out in this?"  The panic was creeping in at the edges.

Dave:  "Sure."

Me:  "But look, if I have to bend over to pick something up, look what shows!  And if I have to sit on something, look what comes in contact with the chair!!"  Yes, I was moving toward full-on panic mode.

Yeah, no dress is worth that, right?  OK, whew, first thing in the "get this the heck outa here" pile.  This is easy!  (Though I may need some therapy when I'm done.)  Oh, and if you see me around in the next week or so, please know that I'm likely test driving something.  Your input is greatly appreciated...and, perhaps, some chamomile tea to settle my nutty panicky nerves.  Eesh!

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Sunday, July 29, 2012

The Early Bird Gets the...

Decided last night that I'd mow the lawn today.  And, sure 'nuf, I got up early this morning (thanks to a phone call from someone who misdialed...at 5:17 A.M.) and was pushing that grass eating machine at 8:00 A.M. on the dot.  I was ready at 6:30, but figured I'd make my neighbors grouchy.  Anyway, after finishing and cleaning up my stanky self, I had to brag about it.

Me:  "I mowed the lawn this morning!"

Dave:  "It looks great!"

Little guy:  "What?  Wow, you haven't mowed the lawn since the 90s."

Me:  "It hasn't been that long.  It's been sometime in the 2000s."

Gee...goofy little doubter.

P.S. My apologies to the little gecko that was plucked off of a rock by a hungry bird.  Sorry...I stirred you when I had to move a rock to do my best mowing work. 

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Saturday, July 28, 2012

Mother Daughter

I had a dream last night that I had a daughter.  I woke up all flustered and confused.  A daughter?  What the heck would I do with a daughter?  I never wanted one.  Throughout both of my pregnancies I had my fingers and toes double crossed that they'd be boys.  I'm not entirely sure why...just a gut feeling that I wasn't equipped to parent a girl.  After my gooseflesh wore off this morning and I really considered the idea, I thought that maybe, just maybe, there might have been a little more pink around the place.  And I'd have someone I could share hair do-dads with.  And then I sipped from my drink and realized there'd be no getting around my teaching her how to put a straw in her armpit and blow making the coolest, most unseemly sounds ever.  Yeah, I think I could rock the mother/daughter thing.

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Friday, July 27, 2012

Stuff, Stash, and Stink

We've had another game of "what's that smell?" at the Parsons house.  The scene this time?  The laundry room.  It's the home of all kinds of funky suspects.  The litter box (surprisingly not stinky), the hampers of dirty stuff (typically stinky), and a machine that is, well, moist much of the time (intermittently stinky).  So, long story short, we pulled both machines out, thoroughly cleaned under and behind them, and put it all back.  So, yay!

All was fine and dandy until Dave turned around in the laundry room and eyed my chaotic crafting area.

Me:  "I have to go eat something before we can even think about talking about this."

Yes, I'm a big avoider.  I have wonderful and amazing plans for all that stuff, don't ya know.  Anyway, after my tummy was filled I dug in.  Somehow I managed to toss enough stuff that I'd totally forgotten existed so I had room to shove the stuff I did remember in its place.  Whew!

Me:  "Hey, boys, come check out the laundry room."

Big guy:  "Woah, what happened?"

Me:  "Does it still have a smell?"

Little guy:  "No."

...and then, of course, someone tooted (not me).

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Thursday, July 26, 2012

Getting the Monkey off my Back

In my continuing efforts to rid myself of those things that once gave me peace and distraction and somehow morph into anxiety enhancers, I've given up my beloved caffeinated tea.  About two months ago it was gum I gave up.  Moderation is not my friend, and I think I ended up chewing so much of it that whatever the artificial sweetener that was in it was making me feel sick.  That, and Dave said I looked like a cow (chewing wise, not in other ways, I'm hoping, though they do have the loveliest eyes).  Anyway, yesterday was my first day without tea.  It was a water only day.  And, lucky for my family, I was home alone pretty much all day long while I went through detox.

Gosh, worst headache ever, nauseous all day long, couldn't stay awake (I took five hours' worth of naps), and was grouchy, grouchy, grouchy.  And this was just tea!!!  Day two has been better, only one nap and just the shadow of a headache. 

So, I feel compelled to fist bump all you addicts out there who have quit real drugs.  I mean, woof!  I almost backward slid about twenty times that first day.  Kudos to you!

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Wednesday, July 25, 2012

I am Woman, Hear me Clink

Today in the car.

Little guy:  "Mom, how do you spell 'woman'?"

Me:  "W-O-M-A-N...you know, like 'Whoa Man'."

Little guy:  "That's not it."

Me:  "Huh?"

Little guy:  "How do you spell 'female'?"

Me:  "F-E-M-A-L-E"

Little guy:  "Yeah, that's it.  So, 'Fe' stands for 'iron', and 'male' means 'man', so you're an Iron Man, mom."

Me:  "Awesome!  Check out these guns, dude!"

Little guy:  "Don't push it, mom."

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Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Shaken and Stirred

Summer and teenagers.  Yup, we're livin' in the land of swimming pools = bathtubs, and A.M. = P.M.  Today I forced my little guy to get up at 11:00 this morning.  Much whining ensued...but, yeesh, he was asleep on the couch and I wanted to sit on it.  Happily for him, he was off and running to the pool with a friend.  This left me alone with the sleeping 17 year old.  Who slept and slept and slept.  Me?  I worked out, drew, did laundry, painted, did dishes, and ate at least three times.  I LOVED it!  But, around 4:00, I started feeling a little lonely, the house was just a bit too quiet.  I decided it was a good time to wake the big guy up.  Shake, shake, stir, stir.

Me:  "Why do you sleep so late?"

Big guy:  "It's your fault, you didn't wake me up."

Hmmmmmm...might just be willing to take the blame again tomorrow.  After I hug him a whole lotta buncha today, of course!

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And yes, I know there's something off about my clock.
...decided it doesn't really bother me so much.

Monday, July 23, 2012

The Joke's on the Kids

Apparently enduring enjoying Dave's awesome sense of humor for over twenty years has rubbed off on me.

Little guy's friend:  "What's that on Scout's eye?

Little guy:  "A cataract."

Me:  "She's a dog, it's a dogaract."

Little guy:  "You're turning into dad."

Yes, it's OK to feel a little sorry for our children.

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Sunday, July 22, 2012

The Great Noodle Hold-up

And...the latest episode in the "my kids think I'm here on earth just to serve them" series.

Big guy:  "Mom, will you make me noodles?"

Me:  "Sure, if you'll start the water boiling."

Big guy:  "I'm not good at that, mom."

He walks away, only to return about twenty minutes later.

Big guy:  "What?  You didn't make noodles?"

Me:  "You didn't start the water boiling."

Big guy:  "Sigh...."  A big, full-of-disappointment, heavy one.

And then he exhibited his mad skillz in starting water boiling.  Ya, I knew you could do it, kiddo!

"Ding!!!"  Order up!

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Saturday, July 21, 2012

Is your cup half empty or half full?

I went for the title of "Mom of the Year" this morning.  Pretty sure I earned it!  Little guy decided last night that he was going to participate in a karate tournament scheduled for this morning.  Only thing was...he needed a mouth guard and an athletic cup.  So, being the awesome mom that I am, I showed up at the sporting goods store first thing this morning.  I tackled the mouth guard first.  The selection was HUGE, but, luckily, they all looked about the same aside from color.  Snip-snap, I grabbed the cheapest one and headed on to the athletic cup section.  Oh...man.  There were rows upon rows of the darn things.  They varied in color and size.  I stood there staring, my mouth slightly agape (which I corrected as soon as I noticed I was doing it), and had a real clear understanding of what our guys feel when we send them off to get us feminine products at the store.  OK, so clearly I needed help, but there was no way I wanted some sales guy to approach me.  I mean, really, how do you ask for advice on such things.  It's not like a guy going in to a Victoria's Secret shop and saying "Oh, yeah, she's about your size."  OK, it's kind of like that, but totally much worse.

I went through the process of pulling different ones off, looking through the packaging from the front and sides.  I looked at ones that came with some sort of frisky little outfit that does something for containment, I'm sure.  I looked at ones designed for the "youth" of today and ones for those who have "man"ned up.  I came to the conclusion that this was WAY beyond my level of expertise.  I looked at the mouth guard package, still in my hand, and I decided that if price worked for me with that, then I'd use the same method with the athletic cup.  I quickly grabbed the cheapest "youth" and "man" sizes, sans frisky outfit, and headed to the front.  I figured I'd make the kid choose between the two.

The little guy was up and ready when I got home, a mere thirty minutes after I'd left, thank you very much.  Happy to report that the first one he chose was a fit.  So relieved...I don't think I would've had the nerve to return a "tried on" cup.

Little guy:  "I'll keep this one."  He buzzed by me and placed it upon my head.  I freaked my freak, just as he'd hoped.  I do aim to please after all.

Me:  "It's a cup, not a cap!!!"  Me running off to wash my hair...already thinking of just how I'll get him back...hmmmmmmmm.....

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Friday, July 20, 2012

I Lose Things...Big Things

I went to the gym this afternoon to work out.  I parked my car, locked it, and went inside for an hour of awesomeness.  When it was time to leave, I went out to the parking lot, said "hi" to a couple guys doing construction work on site, then tried opening my car door.  Nothing.  Not the usual welcoming beep, no lights coming on to say, "Howdy!"  Nothing at all.  This was most definitely going to cost me...and the warranty just expired!  I moved toward the back to see if maybe I could get in and then I noticed that someone had broken the antenna off.  Yeesh!

And then it dawned on me...this is not my car.

And then it dawned on me...I have no idea where my car is.

And then it dawned on me...people might be watching me.

And then it dawned on me...I'm 45, I no longer have to care what people think.

So, I wandered around the parking lot until I did find my car.  Whew!  Yay, me!!!

Products with this design are available here:  Gang-o-Flowers

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Thursday, July 19, 2012

Really, it's More Like an Exclamation Point

Fair warning, boy types.  This blog is girl rated.  So, man up and deal with it if you're willing.  That's what my family does...each and every month.  Not that they have a choice or anything like that, of course.

My monthly visitor arrived today.  Aunt Flo is in da house!  About twenty years ago I kept up with the darn thing.  Knew when it was set to arrive and all (all stemming from the horror of being surprised by "the gift" when I was in a parade, wearing white pants, marching down Congress Avenue at the age of 15), but as the years have gone by I've become less compulsive about keeping track, and it, frankly, takes me by surprise every time.

So, the last few days I've been feeling plush, fluffy, and generally a wee bit grouchy about that and everything else that came my way.  And, admittedly, a little worried that I might actually be pregnant ever since that dream I had earlier this week!  (Pregnancy Blog Link )  Anyway, I was relieved when it showed up.

Me:  "That explains everything!"  (Yes, my monthly affirmation that I am not crazy...yet.)

Little guy:  "Like what?"

Me:  "Why I've felt fluffy and grouchy."

Dave:  "And weird."

Little guy:  "And you had a jelly belly."

Clearly I've been spreading the PMS love 'round this house.   It's over now, boys.  You can relax...till next month, that is.

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Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Trapped in my Own Thoughts

Sometimes I spend all my time hanging out in my head.  I mean I have full conversations in there.  I say my lines AND yours.  I resolve issues, stir things up, and sometimes end up downright pissed off.  ...until a loud noise or something as startling brings me out of it.  The other day I was yanked out of my head by a spontaneous comment from a total stranger.  Dave and I were standing in line waiting to order something to drink.  Coffee for him, tea for me.  I was lost in my own little world likely either solidifying or stirring up my marital bliss through the power of my brain waves when my thoughts were interrupted by this.

Total stranger dude to me:  "I just have to tell you.  You're beautiful."

Me:  "Oh, gosh, no...um, thank you so much."

Total stranger dude to Dave:  "And you're handsome, but she's beautiful."

Note to my family...using the "You're beautiful" tactic is much more effective than the "Mommmmm!" method.  Just sayin'.

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Tuesday, July 17, 2012

The No Good, Very Bad, Terrible, Awful...Five Minutes

It's no secret that I'm a mess of uncoordinated bones, muscles, and brain power.  Well, when I'm tired, it gets even worse, times about ten.  And last night I probably should've gone to bed five minutes earlier than I did.  But I didn't.

It all started when I, unwisely, had my back to my family in the living room...this is something I try to never let happen.  Dave managed to tippy toe right behind me (a favorite activity of my family members) and, "Eeeeeek!!!!"  Yes, he got me again!  After I sort of recovered I went into the bedroom to get ready for bed.  I went in to the bathroom to brush my teeth and Dave showed up.  I decided I would get him back with grossness.  I pretended to hock a loogie, I'm a lady you know.  But did I gross him out?  No, I actually ended up choking on what little spit I had managed to conjure up.  Choking!  I tossed the toothpaste down and started to leave the bathroom hoping to clear my throat.  But what happened when I walked out the door?  You got it, I smacked my forehead right into the door frame.  Eeesh!

And, as this all did end just fine and dandy, as soon as everyone was done laughing at me, and I was finally laughing at myself, too, it was time for some good family snugglin'.

P.S. No one was truly harmed in the making of this blog...at least not permanently.

P.P.S. Setting a reminder on my phone to go to bed a little earlier tonight!

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Monday, July 16, 2012

This Post is Rated P.G.

I woke up this morning in cold sweat, reeling from a pregnancy nightmare dream.  <shudder>  I figured sharing the horror with those around me was just the right thing to do.

Me:  "Last night I dreamt I was pregnant."

Big guy:  "Ha ha ha...I don't care, mom."

Me:  "Last night I dreamt I was pregnant."

Little guy:  (disgusted look) "I don't want to think about that."

Me:  "Last night I dreamt I was pregnant."

Little guy's friend:  "I had a dream last night that I had springs in my feet."

Me:  "Your dream is so much better than my dream."

Me:  "Last night I dreamt I was pregnant."

Dave:  "Oh, gawd...did you find out who the father was?"

 Good to know we're all on the same page about this.

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Sunday, July 15, 2012

My Muse Amuses Me

About a month ago I drew a sweet little seashell.  As ink only, it was just fine.  But I went and added color...and lo and behold, no matter which way I turned it, all I could think when I looked at it was, "mutant alien boobie."  (My apologies if that offends.)  Seriously!  It stayed in my pile of "in progress" paintings (I like to work on a few at a time), week after week.  Well, today I dragged that sucker out for the umpteenth time, determined to finish it.  I turned it around, one final time and, suddenly, brilliance struck!  It was not a seashell.  It was not a boobie.  That darn thing was obviously a HAT!

So, there ya go...you're now officially privy to my muse.  

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Saturday, July 14, 2012

Nap Time

It's summer...the time of year when I can freely take naps.  Every day.  My attempt today?

Me:  "I'm gonna go take a nap."

Little guy:  "OK"

I get all settled in, close my eyes, and, "Ooph!"

Little guy:  "How about this?"  He's lying on my chest, perpendicular to my body.

Me:  "I can't breathe."

Little guy:  "OK, how about this?"  He moves down to be on top of my stomach.

Me:  "Still can't breathe."

Little guy:  "Well, how about this?"  He's down to the level of my knees.

Me:  "I can breathe now, but I'm afraid that my knees will bend the wrong way."

Little guy:  "OK, will this work?"  He got off of the bed (and me), walked to the head of the bed, and gently kissed my forehead.

Me:  "Perfect."

Darn...now I'm wide awake!

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Friday, July 13, 2012

It's all fun and games until somebody gets poked in the eye....

If you've met my little guy, you know he has a knack (dare I say, a super power) for injuring himself.  I mean, seriously, we've taken him to the E.R. eight times, he's had five broken bones (yes, I'm crafty so I did make him a mobile out of his casts for his bedroom), and he has a collection of family x-rays and family toenails that have fallen off (yes, we know this is a tad weird).

So, when the little guy ran into my bedroom this afternoon saying, "Mom, I hit myself in the eye," I was completely unfazed.

Me:  "OK, show me."

The kiddo lowered his glasses and, sure 'nuf, he had quite a bruise.

Me:  "Alright, I'll bite...how'd it happen?"

Little guy:  "I was doing a chin up on the pull up bar and I hit my face."

Gotta admire his mad skills!

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Thursday, July 12, 2012

Recalculating Jumpiness

Had the pleasure of another errand "date" with my husband today.  He even told a clerk...so it must be true.  Well, he was driving and, after twenty years together, he's finally learning to not surprise me when making turns and such.  Because, you see, if he appears to be making a left, my body expects him to make a left, and when he pulls a u-turn instead, of course I have to dig out my robotic voice (after I've had a freak out spasm response to the change) and say, "Recalculating...." Yup, today was a good day.  I only had to say it once.

My kids, of course, expect such freaky behavior from me.  It's all they know.  We picked up our little guy on our way home and what did he say to me after hardly seeing me at all over the past week?

Little guy:  "That's what I missed...I missed someone being jumpy."  He gave me a big cuddly squeeze.

Yeah, you heard it, my little guy missed me. 

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Wednesday, July 11, 2012

It's the Law! I swear it!


Yes, it was that fabulous man in brown dropping off a big brown box.  Dave and I ran to the door, and dang-it, he beat me there.  He scooped up that cardboard coffer and brought it in.  Me?  I was dancing around him saying, "It's mine, it's mine!!!"  Now, we all know the rules of such things, right?  The person specified on the label is the only person allowed to open the package.  It's definitely one of the laws of etiquette...do doubt.

Dave moved his fingers to make the first opening tear.

Me:  "Did you order anything?"

Dave:  "No."

Me:  "Well I did!  It's mine!"  (He looked at the label...finally...)

Dave:  "Well, I hadn't established that yet."

Me:  "What are you, the anti-establishment?"

Ya, I know it wasn't funny, but it distracted him just enough to allow me to reclaim what was mine.  I took a knife, slit that tape, and pulled out two pairs of very practical, very comfortable, very Kali shoes.  This mama gots magic shoes. They're gonna take me anywhere.

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Tuesday, July 10, 2012

So soon they forget...

I found myself having to kidnap my own kiddo this afternoon.  He's been at his grandpa's house for three days and nights, hanging out with cousins, being spoiled as grandkids should be, and having a total blast.  I'm a little concerned, though, that they've been using mind control on him to convince him that he no longer needs us.

Me:  "I've missed you, kiddo."

Little guy:  "OK."

Me:  "Did you miss me?"

Little guy:  "No."

Me:  "Gee, I feel like you don't even have a use for me any more."

Little guy:  "I don't."

Me:  "Who's doing your laundry right now?"

Little guy:  "Oh."

Me:  "I love you."

Little guy:  "OK, mom."

Me:  "You have a smell."

...and all of a sudden he was all over me with a big stinky wonderful hug.  Lesson learned?  Lead with, "You have a smell."

Monday, July 9, 2012

Tea Time

Pretty much every afternoon I go in the kitchen and start the process of brewing a cup of tea.  I do so love the ritual.  I choose a mug, heat the water, add the tea bag, and steep away.  I do this in spite of the fact that I'm already all jittery after multiple cups of tea throughout the day.  I stroll to the kitchen a little later, totally looking forward to that first warm sip, and when I go to get said tea I realize that I imagined the entire thing, and then I'm grateful for being such a dumb blond.  

Good to know my hair is looking out for my best interest.

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Sunday, July 8, 2012

Moths, Skeletal Remains, and Dave...Oh my!

Dave and I got to stay in a hotel downtown last night.  Alone.  With no kids!!!  So much fun!  And, you know I totally love my quiet mornings, right?  So, when I woke up at 7:00 this morning, I tip toed to the chest of drawers, got my clothes out, tip toed to the bathroom to shower, tip toed to the couch with my computer, quietly put my ear buds in, and started watching something...all in pitch darkness.  After all, I'm nice like that, I knew Dave needed his beauty sleep, and yeah, I was totally being protective of my quiet time.

Well, I was minding my own business when a huge moth, with about a four inch wing span, started flapping between me and my laptop screen.  I suppose it was attracted by the light.  Well, I was all thinking, "Ooh, aaah," until it morphed into a skeletal human hand and started going toward my face.  That's when I freaked my freak.  I was aware of being in a hotel and didn't want to disturb my neighbors (why I thought this, I don't know...after all, they were up all night making all kinds of racket), so I began hyperventilating instead.  Somehow I managed to gently remove my ear buds and set my computer down on the couch beside me, all the while levitating as I subconsciously debated between fight and flight.

"It's me, Kali, it's me."  Ya, I didn't care what that skeletal hand, that was likely attached to a very creepy skeletal body, had to say to me.  I was way too busy being a whirlwind of punches and slaps to pay attention.  Yup, I was in fight mode.

The light came on...and there was Dave, standing all self-protective and stuff.  I lowered my fists and gave him the smelliest stink eye ever.

So sorry, Dave.  And all you moth skeletal hand creatures out there...consider yourself warned.  This girl will take you out!

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Saturday, July 7, 2012

Trick or Treat, Smell my Feet

A few years ago I drove to California with my big guy and little guy.  What do we remember most about that drive?  The Grand Canyon?  The Petrified Forest?  The Mohave Desert?  Those pale in comparison to our two most significant memories.

#1 The bras all over the highway in Bakersfield, CA...surely a Victoria's Secret truck had dumped its over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder load!

#2 The horrible, terrible, ghastly smell of big guy's feet.

OK, the first was awesome...we pretty much loved that!  The second, well, we remember it so clearly because it was traumatic in its horribleness.  The quick story is that we were driving along and I smelled something.  Something indescribably foul.  I looked to my big guy, who was seated beside me, and saw that he had taken his shoes off.  Well, I jumped all over his case for having stunk up the car...again (this was not the first episode, but it was decidedly the worst thus far).  In dramatic form I rolled all the windows down, and was hit in the face, hard, with an even worse smell.  We rounded the bend and came upon what I can only assume was a slaughter house.  There were thousands of cows, all crammed together, on what must have been mounds of their poo.  OMG!!!!!!

So, I have to say I think I have mild PTSD from this experience and I get jumpy now when people take their shoes off in my presence.  I dare not breathe with my nose.  I was just beginning to show some small signs of improvement as I've not encountered slaughterhouse feet in quite some time...until a few nights ago.  We were driving in the car...and there was that smell.  Big guy was not with us.  Dave looked well groomed and recently bathed.  I turned my head as I saw an aberrition out of the corner of my eye.  Little guy had his shoe up on my seat back.  His tied shoe.  His shoe that was still on his foot.  I swear the air around that shoe was blurred by scent waves escaping from their canvas prison.  I was in olfactory hell!

So, little guy was stuck being bare foot for two days while his shoes took up residence in our washing machine...I used the "exorcist" setting...high heat, demonic smell out...three times.  Phew!

Super sweet smelling thank yous for "liking" my blog on facebook!!

Friday, July 6, 2012

Two Steps Forward, One Species Back

I'm seriously used to being the little one.  Always in the front row in school class photos, having to climb on the kitchen counters to get something out of the cupboards, and now, a convenient elbow rest for my big guy.  Well, today I think I got even smaller.  We were at Target getting electronics, super glue, and yogurt, you know, important household staples. 

Big guy:  "You take two steps for every one of mine."

Me:  "I know, I'm little compared to you."

Big guy:  "It's like I'm walking a chihuahua."


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Thursday, July 5, 2012

Can't Touch This

I hear that being uncomfortable is good for ya.  Not uncomfortable like having your shoulder dislocated or anything like that, just the kind where you're forced out of the little box we feel so safe in.  Well, I got forced today, and actually I suppose it was good to get out of my neurotic unique little box.

My box?  Well, I know I've discussed on here time and again how I'm not much of a fan of moisture, particularly of those mystery moistures that show up in my daily life...you know, the mucousy spot on the carpet, the dribbles around the toilet, the teenage boy armpit that lands squarely on my shoulder...you get the idea.  Also in my box is my reluctance to shake hands and whatnot.  I'm no Howie Mandel or anything like that, I'm simply not a fan of the custom.

Anyway...I was at a Zumba class this morning.  All and all it was really fun and awesome.  Only thing was, about half way through, the substitute instructor told everybody to find a partner (Ack!  Flashbacks to all the professional development ice breakers I've endured!!).

Lucky for me the lady nearest me looked to me and said:   "Partners?  There's no partners in Zumba."

Me:  "Good, we'll not be partners together."

And we rocked it.  We were two planets approximately orbiting one another (that possible, astrophysicists?), making no eye or physical contact.  Awesome.

Substitute instructor:  "OK, find a new partner!!"

Me:  "Can't we just keep the same one?" (under my breath, of course, I'm not rude or anything and don't like to make a scene)

But before I could say, "I need to go wash my hair," a dude (one of only two in the room) came over to me, all smiles, moist hands out, and I...um...took them.  Well, I don't know what the rest of the room was doing, but he had me jitterbugging all over the place.  And then he spun me...and I spun and I spun and I spun.

And then it was over.  Woozy from all the spinning and hand touching I attempted some groovy grapevines...bet you wish you were there...I'm sure I was amazing!

 Go ahead and "like" my blog post...it'll be as soothing as aloe vera on a sunburn.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

May the Fourth be with you

Dave:  "Happy farth of July!"

Little guy:  "My parents are the biggest dorks."

Me:  "May the fourth be with you!"

Little guy:  "That's awesome, mom, can I use that?"

Me:  "Sure!"

Seriously love that...

1 - He thinks his mom comes up with cool stuff.

And 2 - He spends so little time on the internet that he has no idea how overused my quote is.

I love it a whole lotta buncha when you "like" my posts on facebook!!

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

The Skyrocketing Price of Tomatoes These Days

For some reason certain foods are particularly hard on my children's pallets.  Corn was the first acceptable vegetable.  Then came broccoli.  After that spinach leaves...raw, and only one per meal, thank you very much.  Tomatoes, though, for some reason are the recipient of the "Access Denied" designation (yes, I know they're a "fruit", but really, people, who actually thinks of them that way?!?!).  It's a funny thing to me who happened to love cherry tomatoes as a kiddo.  It's also odd that they LOVE so many tomato-based foods...spaghetti sauce, salsa, pizza sauce, and, of course, the ever present food lube, kechup.

Well, this afternoon Dave held up a home grown tomato to our little guy.  It was bigger than a cherry tomato, but smaller than a Roma variety.

Dave:  "I'll give you $5 to eat this entire tomato."

Little guy:  "No way, dad."

Dave:  "I'll give you $40 to eat it."

Me:  "And it doesn't count if you throw it up."

Little guy:  "Um...OK...I'll try."

He took it, put it to his mouth, gingerly bit into it and started chewing.  He opened his mouth again and took a bigger bite (one that surely included those delightfully slimy seeds) and ran to the sink.  Just before he spit it out another offer was made.

Dave:  "I'll give you a thousand dollars to eat it."

Little guy:  "Patooey!" It splattered in the sink.  "I just can't do it."  He walked over to the trash can and threw it in and headed in the direction of the bathroom, most likely to use some Scope to erase his offended taste buds' memory.

Me:  "A thousand dollars, eh?"

Dave:  "It was a safe risk."

Monday, July 2, 2012

Apparently I'm here to serve...something.

Little guy:  "Where's Daddy?"

Me:  "At the coffee shop, I'm sure."

Little guy:  "I want something."

Me:  "What do you want?"

Little guy:  "I don't know, my ear itches.  Will you scratch it?"

Me:  "No, get a Q-tip."

Little guy:  "Those can make my ears hurt."

He snuggles in beside me, laying his head on my tummy, and almost (ack!) touches me with his ear scratch finger.

Little guy:  "Buuuuuurp!"

Me:  "OK, you're grossing me out."

He stands up and toodles out of the room.

Little guy:  "I wonder what I wanted."

Parenting sure is a lot of guess work...with a side of ickiness.

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Sunday, July 1, 2012

The Cat and the Rat

At 3:00 this morning my little guy appeared at my side of the bed.

Little guy:  "Mom, Pug has a rat."

Me:  "Huh, huh, wha, huh?"

Little guy:  "I let Pug in and he brought a rat into the house."

Me:  "Is the rat dead?"

Little guy:  "I think so."

Me:  "So put the rat outside."

Little guy:  "That's not my job, mom."

Me:  "Ugh!" as I toss the covers off of me and stagger out of bed and into the living room.

The little guy and I found Pug and the clearly dead rat under the dining table.  He lay there, one paw on the rat's head and just stared us down...daring us to do something.  Neither of us was willing to risk pulling back a bloody nub to take the rat away from Pug, so we just settled in to see if he'd abandon it.  No sucha ruck.  That cat of ours, with his wonderful waste not want not attitude, proceeded to eat that rat, from head to tail, apparently.  I abandoned the show after about 30 seconds, but little guy relayed to me this morning that nothing was left when Pug was done.

Once back in bed, I kerflippy flopped for about ten minutes, grossed out by the ghastly images in my mind and was just about to nod off when Pug jumped on the foot of the bed, walked up my body, and settled in on my stomach, kneading with both front paws.

I was massaged to sleep thinking, "I guess nothing goes quite as well with rat as some biscuits...."

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