Avalanche...Liquid Style

You know how when you're drinking out of a cup and it's filled with a bunch of small ice cubes and you tip...tip...tip it till the last bit of water starts running toward your mouth and then suddenly ALL of the ice smacks you in the face?

Well, when you're a hot tea addict like I am, something kind of sort of like that happens.  At least to me it does.  You know how when the bottom third of your tea has cooled because you've been busy doing other stuff and you go back to it because you want to drink the last of it and the teabag is still in there because you're milking it for all it's worth and you tip the mug back and the tea starts going toward your mouth and then the teabag flops right by your mouth and then all the tea floods around it and it sloshes around the sides of the teabag and spills over your cheeks and down your shirt soaking it and your bra?

No?  I do.  Me neither.

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Apparently his Self Esteem is Solidly Intact

Dave was loving on our not-so-little kitten a few minutes ago.


Dave:  "He's just the sweetest kitty."  And he nuzzled in and gave the little fella a cuddle.


Me, always afraid that our older and amazing cat, Pug, will hear and be jealous...well, I had to say something.


Me:  "And there's a super sweet big kitty right here on this chair."  I reached down and gave him a little pet...and he bit me!  In that "I could kill you with this set of teeth but I'm going to go super easy on you just this once" kind of way. 


Thinking Pug can take care of himself both physically and emotionally.

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Eat mo' Frito Pie!

I've sunk to a new low in the mothering department.  I actually uttered the words, "Eat a lot more Frito pie!"  And I meant it.  Now I'm not a nutrition nut with my kids.  They eat some junk food, have a daily dose of sugar, drink a soda if we're out and about, and have a particular love of fried chicken.  But me actually insisting that they increase their intake of Frito pie...well, it's a bit absurd.

Except for the fact that we've got a rather large stash of Frito snack size bags.  The deal is this.  I purchase large boxes of snack chips at Costco about once a month (See what I mean?  Seriously damaging my Mom of the Year status, eh?).  The kids, being ravenous teenage boys, devour the potato chips, the Doritos (regular and cool ranch), and the Cheetos, but what ends up settling to the bottom, least preferred and abandoned, are the Fritos.  So each time I buy a new box, I dump all the left over Fritos into it.  And on and on until we've got a rather large amount that may just qualify us for the show "Hoarders."

My solution?  If anyone wants me to buy another large box of assorted snack chips, they have to prove that they actually like all of the enclosed variations.  I'm here, wearing my apron and holding a can of chile, some shredded cheese, and a bag-o-Fritos...ready for my sweet guys to get home


Oh, if anyone knows of a charitable organization that could use a rather large donation of Fritos,  that'd work, too. 

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Getting Caught

I took Hazel for a walk/run last night.  Yes, I'd looked at the weather forecast.  Yes, I got my east and west wackbirds.  And yes, the big band of rain caught us.

Now it wouldn't have been such an issue if the beginning of the walk hadn't been so wacky.  You see, my kid followed us out the door.

Little guy:  "Catch mom."

Me:  "No, I'm heading out, I don't want to lose the sun."

Little guy:  "Just catch once and throw it back."


I gave in and caught, then threw back.  It was a bad throw.


Little guy:  "It has to be a good catch and a good throw, mom.


By now we're half way down the block because, yes, I did keep walking s-l-o-w-l-y.

He threw again.  It went to the left of me.  I kept walking.

He ran and grabbed the ball.


Little guy:  "No, wait!  Catch!"


He threw again.  I caught.  I threw, beautifully I must add.  And he caught.


Me:  "OK, see ya!"  And Hazel and I ran off.


About fifteen minutes later the sky got dark, scary, and lightningy.  And then it rained.  I didn't mind a bit.  I rather loved it.  But my glasses seriously need windshield wipers.  Hazel?  Well, every bit of the walk/run from then on was simply wrong.  Water landing on her - wrong.  Running through muddy puddles - wrong.  Mom insisting that she keep going when all she wanted to do was stay in a dry spot under a tree - wrong.

We got home and the little guy came out of his room.


Little guy:  "You got all wet, mom."

Me:  "Yup.  You think my send-off had anything to do with that?"


And then he smiled and gave me a hug.  I might just suggest a game of catch tonight.

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Can you take the heat?

The other day the boys and I were challenging each other to eat pickled jalepeño slices.  Me?  No problema.  Big guy?  No problema.  Little guy?  Problema grande.

He took one slice on a fork, delicately put it on his tongue, slowly began chewing, swallowed it...and then the steam started coming out of his ears.  He turned a bit red.  He got up.  He drank water.  A lot of water. 


Me:  "You may want to get some milk, or maybe eat some tortilla chips, dude."

Little guy, upon looking in the fridge:  "I'm gonna eat some whip cream!"

Glug, glug, glug....

Little guy:  "I don't like jalepeños."


It's a funny thing.  When I was pregnant with my big guy, I could not get enough spicy foods.  And when he was little he'd eat salsa like it was chicken noodle soup.  Seriously.  By the bowl, people.  When I was pregnant with my little guy I could not tolerate spicy foods at all...which is so not me.  My little fetuses were serious dietary dictators who had already determined what they liked and didn't like.

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So much China...

...and so little interest in ever, ever using it.


We've been redoing our kitchen and it's posed some particular challenges along the way.  The basics, like no water or sink for a few days, cupboard contents all over the kitchen table, and then putting everything back.  Well, almost everything.  You see, I made a deal with myself as I pulled all the junk stuff essentials out.  I would only put back what we use...or, at the very least, love.

It's been super easy with most things and just a quick trip with items to the curb and soon some happy neighbor who does think they'll use and/or love them takes them home. 

Trouble is, it gets complicated when it comes to the set of china we received for our wedding.  We never ever use it.  It's simply too much trouble, all that getting it down from the top shelf, and then having to hand wash it.  Plus, we're hardly fancy folk.

So, what to do, what to do...we don't use it or love it.  I will say I like it and think it's pretty, just not enough to make up for the trouble of using it.

Perhaps china is something that was precious only to previous generations, perhaps I'm crazy...or lazy.

Dunno...but the one thing I do know is that it somehow found its way back to the tip top of the cabinets, so don't go and scour my curb for fine china.  You'll be wasting your time.

This painting available for purchase at:  Tiny Village

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