As we pass the real live chickens, Z says, "Look at those silly hens! Those chickens really crack me out!"
- If you go late in the week, all that is left of the super deals (read "free") is empty shelf space.
- Shallow shopping carts are the devil.
- I am going to need to allot a lot more time for grocery shopping.
- I am a spaz with my giant notebook o' coupons.
- Sales fliers lie.
- The stockers at Kroger are very friendly.
- If your toddler is cute enough, blue-haired old ladies don't glare at you even if your pirate-int-training whacks their shopping cart with his sword.
- Despite missing out on several great deals, I saved $22.05! (See my new coupon savings tally in my left sidebar. I will be updating it each time I buy groceries!)
Sayo is a New York jewelry designer. She works mainly with sterling silver to make some funky and fun jewelry. Some of her rings have dirt in them from famous places, how cool is that? Giant rocks? You bet! She also has a series of earrings made from vinyl flooring. Sound strange? They're cute! Check them out at her Etsy shop, Saru Star Jewelry. Her blog shows off not only her own awesome designs, but also highlights coolness in jewelry and crafts found all over the internet. Way to pay it forward, Sayo!
My particular favorites are the Anchorage Earrings. Love!
Give me strength to get my house in shape for tomorrow's showing. Please help prospective buyers number five fall in love with our house and all its quirks and personal touches. Let them see past the cracks in the pool deck and the bare spots in the yard and see a beautiful setting for family and friends. And if it is not too much to ask, could they please be willing to pay at or above the asking price? Thank you.
She told me a whopper this morning, which is what got this whole liar-liar-pants-on-fire train of thought out of the station. Last night she had requested pancakes for breakfast and I said okay. So when I got up this morning, I was prepared for a little breakfast-y cooking. As soon as I stepped foot into the kitchen, Z says, "Grandma ate her cereal out of the green bowl."
My sleep addled brain digested that as possibly true. There was a coffee mug on the counter (Grandma was outside power washing the deck). But upon closer inspection, there was a sippy cup next to the green plastic bowl and a rinsed cereal bowl by the sink. Wha...? A lie. She looked me right in the face and lied like a rug. Z had already eaten breakfast, but was still angling for pancakes (which I probably would have made anyway if she had just asked directly!).
I sent her packing to her thinking spot (literally a circle on the floor labeled 'thinking spot') while I waited for my head to quit spinning Linda-Blair-style. That took a while. When I was sufficiently calmed down, I went to have a little chat with her about why telling lies is a bad thing. How when she tattles on every tiny infraction her brother commits, it is hard to believe that she doesn't know why he is sitting on the floor crying. That when she tells me her room is cleaned up when it isn't, I'm not going to believe her the next time. That once you start telling lies, everything you say becomes suspect.
We have had this discussion before. She always says that she will never lie again in the sincerest of tones. Until she does it again 30 minutes later. Time outs, getting sent to her room, and losing privileges have failed to make an impression on her. So I told her that the next time I caught her in a lie I was going to wash her mouth out with soap.
She made it until dinner where she told a doozie about some inconsequential thing and wrapped it up with some improbable statements that she attributed to her teacher. Huh? Really? I asked if her teacher had really said that and she said, "NobutIdon'twantmymouthwashedoutwithsoap!" Clearly, she knew she wasn't telling the truth, but proceeded anyway.
Sigh. When it came to be mouth-washing time, she was completely incredulous. Like I don't follow through on consequences - which I totally do! She added insult to injury by screaming at me that she didn't WANT her mouth washed out so I couldn't do it. There was running and chasing, catching and carrying. Much yelling and protesting (thanks for opening your mouth, babe!). And it was done.
In true nose-cutting and face-spiting form, my hard headed daughter kept right up with the defiance. I had a cup of water and a tooth brush ready for her, but she refused to use them. Instead, she just stood there with that horrible soap taste in her mouth. That's showing me, Z!
Finally, after I had gotten Q off to bed, Z came up to me and said, "I love you, Mama. I won't tell any more lies." Then I read her books, tucked her in, and kissed her soap-scented mouth good night.
Turns out she has lately started coupon-ing and one of her big scores was 20 boxes of brownie mix for free. Free brownies? She had T's total attention. Her hubs and sons bragged on her total coupon-clipping/money-saving mastery and the system she had developed to stay on top of everything. She has a whole notebook with dividers and pockets and baseball card pages and has the whole thing down to a science. Impressive!
Since we are currently supporting two households, it seems like a good idea for me to follow in the steps of my newly anointed coupon guru. We made a date for my
In anticipation of the big event, I
The funny thing is, Chica and I were talking about this just the other day. We both know that there are coupons to be had, and that if we were religious about the sales fliers that we could potentially save a lot of money. We are both smart women. If all those other gals are successful at it, surely we would be, too. If we wanted to... But somehow we couldn't be bothered. Looking back on that conversation, I think an alien must have taken temporary control of my brain. Couldn't be bothered to save a big ol' chunk of money? That's crazy talk.
Wow. Nothing like the zeal of a convert, huh? To tell the truth, I am totally in it for the pretty notebook. I love me some office supplies. Especially if I have a coupon!
A teacher was doing a study testing the sense of taste. The children began to identify the flavors by their color:
Finally the teacher gave them all HONEY lifesavers. None Of the children could identify the taste.
The teacher said, 'I will give you all a clue. It's what your Mother may sometimes call your father.'
One little girl looked up in horror, spit her lifesaver out and Yelled, 'Oh my God! They're butt-holes!
The teacher had to leave the room!
(X) Gone on a blind date
( ) Watched someone die
( X ) Been to Canada
(X ) Been to Mexico
( X ) Been to Florida
( X) Been to Hawaii
( X ) Been to Europe
( ) Been to South America
(X ) Been to Central America
( X) Been to Asia
( ) Been to Australia
( ) Been to Africa
( X ) Been on a plane
( X) Been on a helicopter
(X ) Been on a Cruise
( ) Visited All 50 States
( X ) Been lost
( X ) Been on the opposite side of the country
(X) Gone to Washington , DC
( X ) Swam in the ocean
( X) Cried yourself to sleep
( ) Played cops and robbers
(X ) Recently colored with crayons
(X ) Sang Karaoke
( X ) Paid for a meal with coins only
( X ) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't
(X ) Made prank phone calls
( X ) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
( X ) Caught a snowflake on your tongue
( X ) Danced in the rain
(X ) Written a letter to Santa Claus
( X ) Been kissed under the mistletoe
( X ) Watched the sunrise with someone
( X ) Blown bubbles
( X ) Gone ice-skating
(X ) Been skinny dipping outdoors
( X ) Gone to the movies
( ) Skipped school
(X ) Been to the top of the St. Louis Arch
( X) Been down Bourbon Street in New Orleans
( ) Been deep sea fishing
(X ) Driven across the United States
(X ) Been in a hot air balloon
( ) Ridden in the Goodyear or other Blimp
( ) Been sky diving
(X ) Been Scuba diving
( ) Gone snowmobiling
(X ) Lived in more than one country
( ) Lay down outside at night and admired the stars while listening to the crickets
( X ) Seen a falling star and made a wish
( ) Enjoyed the beauty of Old Faithful Geyser
( ) Seen the Statue of Liberty
( ) Gone to the top of Seattle Space Needle
( X ) Traveled by train
( ) Traveled by motorcycle
( X ) Been horse back riding
( ) Ridden on a San Francisco CABLE CAR
( X) Been to Disneyland
( ) Truly believe in the power of prayer
( ) Been in a rain forest
( ) Seen whales in the ocean
( ) Been to Niagara Falls
( ) Ridden on an elephant
( ) Swam with Manatees
( ) Been to the Olympics
( ) Walked on the Great Wall of China
( ) Saw and heard a glacier calf
( ) Been spinnaker flying
( X) Been water-skiing
( X ) Been snow-skiing
( X ) Been to Westminster Abbey
( X) Been to the Louvre
( X ) Swam in the Pacific Ocean
( X ) Swam in the Atlantic Ocean
(X ) Swam in the Mediterranean
( ) Swam in the Dead Sea
( X ) Been to a Major League Baseball game
( ) Been to a National Football League game
Every stereotype you can think of about very little girls on the stage? Are stereotypes for a reason. Staring up at the stage lights when the music starts? Check. Appearance of dancing to an entirely different set of choreography from the rest of the group? Check. Bending down to mess with shoe in the middle of the routine? Check. Panning head wildly to see what move everyone else is doing? Check. Being so adorable in her little leotard and tutu that I could eat her up and go into a sugar coma? Nom, nom, CHECK.
I just hope she is having as much fun as I am!
Except for yesterday.
Grandma's sister celebrated her 78th birthday yesterday and we went over for a little potluck lunch to celebrate. For the first time, maybe ever, my kids were sulky and sullen to the assembled great aunts and uncles. They wouldn't talk to anyone or reply when spoken to directly. Z, the most outgoing child in the world, hid her face in my armpit. Q threw a doozie of a tantrum that required that I remove him bodily from the room so as not to (further) deafen the old people.
And lunch? Oh, lunch. We ate in Aunt J's formal dining room, which is carpeted. Rice. Fruit salad with berries(!). German chocolate cake. Did I mention that Aunt J is fastidious in the extreme? I spent the whole meal one fork away from a panic attack. I think I managed to pick everything up before it got ground into the carpet, but the table cloth was a total lost cause. Sigh.
Then after lunch, my formerly lump-like children started running around like headless chickens - a pursuit made even more dangerous/annoying by the fact that Aunt J's taste in decorating leans toward fragile porcelain dolls on stands on the floor, doilies, and many, many delicate porcelain flowers.
The other great aunt in attendance kept telling me not to worry; that all of the adults there were parents, too. Good advice, but good luck following it! By the time we left, I was completely wrung out. The kids didn't want to take naps, but I certainly did!
Case in point: I was visiting The Mother Ship this evening after I had gotten the kids off to bed. (We are staying with the grandparents. Don't call CPS.) After I had accomplished my original mission (exchanging a pair of shoes for Q), I was wandering the aisles absorbing the awesomeness that is Target.
Z is about ready to move into her big girl bed, so I have been batting some ideas around for her new room. Target has a bed-in-a-bag set that has pink leopard print and zebra stripes. This totally rocks my world, but I want to doll it up a little with a poodles-in-Paris twist. I was batting around some ideas involving embellishing some curtains with sheer polka dot fabric.
What should I see when I get to the curtain aisle but the exact curtain fabrics that I was envisioning for Z's room! A pale pink faux silk panel and a hot pink sheer panel with velvet dots! Squee! Writing this down, it all sounds like WAY too much, but I promise! It will be adorable. Will post pictures as soon as I make it happen. Now I just have to figure out how to get a large poodle graphic embroidered onto a piece of minky fabric!
Well. My blond roots are showing.
Luckily for me, my mom-in-law stepped in with a little loan to keep me in gas and groceries until T gets to Small Town on Friday. Yay! Another small act of stupidity that I will never. live. down.*
* In my defense, I didn't take my purse and the diaper bag out of the car. I leave those things there so I don't forget them. Some other helpful someone did the removing.
And there was sunshine! I knew I was longing for some sun, but I didn't realize how much of a mole-girl I had become in the land of never-ending-rain that is Small Town in the spring. Just walking out into the full blast of west Texas sunshine had my eyes squinting and watering like I'd just taken in a snootful of pepper spray! Lucky for you, I kept my
The hubs and I had a FULL DAY date! Okay, there was a gun show involved, but in exchange, I got to pick the movie, the restaurant, and visit The Mother Ship (Target). The gun show wasn't a total wash: lots of vendors bring their tiny little dogs and don't mind strangers fawning all over them. So while the hubs was
After the show, we went to an uberfancy restaurant for lunch. They bill themselves as "Fine Texas Dining" and they didn't lie. There was an overage of mounted trophies on the wall (read: the heads of big, dead, large-horned animals), but otherwise it was really nice. The tables were made of hammered copper and there was a gorgeous white stone floor-to-ceiling fireplace. We had the kind of service where you take a sip of your tea and the waiter comes over to refill it. But not in an annoying kind of way. The food was awesome and very reasonably priced. I am guessing the dinner menu would have made me catch my breath, but the lunch prices weren't bad at all.
Next, we headed to a movie. I got to pick, so it was tempting to drag T to a total chick-flick in retribution for all of the Star-Lord-of-the-X-Men-Terminating-Chase-Scene movies to which I have been subjected. But as it happened, I had seen the only available chick-flick and was totally jonesing for some sci-fi action. Star Trek was awesome.
We finished out our day with a little wishful shopping at Lowe's. The new house has a PINK toilet, sink and tub in the master bath, so that is probably the first room we will remodel. After our old house sells. And we pay down the mortgage. Some day. I saw a vanity that I thought was cool and wanted T's input. Unfortunately, this Lowe's didn't have the vanity in question, but we did resolve a few other design dilemmas. I will
All in all, it was a great weekend, but over much too quickly. Happily, T will be coming to Small Town next weekend for Z's recital. I can't wait!
In the name of this award's description (“These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to those bloggers who must choose at least 5 more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”), I would like to pass this along to some bloggers whom I have come to regard as real friends - even though I am sure they have gotten this award before!
- Deb from Life With Birk
- Staci from Playing House
- Mel from A Voice for Moms
- LadyStyx from the world can be amazing when you're slightly strange
- Jamie from Kids... Me & RAW III (of course!)
Thanks for being my friends!
CandiceR over at Mama's Insight has honored me with a Sushi Award. Thanks Candice! What a great opportunity for a post while I am at the ranch!
To mix things up a bit (and to give Jamie a break!) I am passing this award on to some new followers. Check them out!
- Designing Hillary at 57 Design Studio
- The DeMented Mom at So Random
- Jen and Sarah at Momalom
- Jessica at Mommy Nightowl
- Furious Mom at The Furious Five
Thanks to these ladies for joining in the fun here at Critical Mass! And thanks again, CandiceR for thinking of me and raw fish in the same thought!
I even called my blog guru, Daddy, to see what wisdom he could shed on the situation. None. He said he thinks marquees are annoying/distracting so he never uses them.
On a completely unrelated note, I will be at the ranch for the next several days. I apologize in advance for the lameness of the posts I have scheduled. They required no creativity on my part, but I hope you check them out anyway!
All of this is to say that we were trapped inside today. Again. The cabin fever is really beginning to show on all of us. Z and Q are fighting over every. little. thing. Mostly over me. Q came and got me from my office so he could sit in my lap. In the split second before my rear made contact with the chair, Z was pushing Q out of the way so she could sit in it. I told her it was Q's turn and that she could sit in my lap when he got down, which she did. Then when she got down and Q tried to get up, there was pushing and crying all over again.
We played several rounds of this lovely game (while I was on the phone with Sister K) until in the final round, Q bit the snot out of Z's arm. Z was bawling. Q got a swat, so he was bawling. I hustled off the phone and felt like bawling, too.
I hustled everyone off to bed in the midst of plaintive cries of each for the other. Now that they each had a moment of undivided attention, all they wanted was their sibling to share it with. I cannot express how ready I am to go to the ranch this weekend. Now there are some words I never thought I'd utter.
See how little Q was? This is one of very few pictures that they are both in. Poor Z was recovering from a hideous haircut (aka: mullet). Mom had no idea who Daddy was. She thought he was a suitor taking her out for a date. It was sweet in a sad sort of way.
1. My mother taught me to APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE.
"If you're going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning."
2. My mother taught me RELIGION.
"You better pray that will come out of the carpet."
3. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL.
"If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!"
4. My mother taught me LOGIC.
"Because I said so, that's why."
5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.
"If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me."
6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
"Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident."
7. My mother taught me IRONY.
"Keep crying and I'll give you something to cry about."
8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.
"Shut your mouth and eat your supper."
9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.
"Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck?"
10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.
"You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone."
11. My mother taught me about WEATHER."
This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it."
12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.
"If I told you once, I've told you a million times. Don't exaggerate!"
13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.
"I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."
14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION.
"Stop acting like your father!"
15. My mother taught me about ENVY.
"There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do."
16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.
"Just wait until we get home."
17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING.
"You are going to get it when you get home!"
18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.
"If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."
19. My mother taught me ESP.
"Put your sweater on; don't you think I know when you are cold?"
20. My mother taught me HUMOR.
"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."
21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT.
"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up."
22. My mother taught me GENETICS.
"You're just like your father."
23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS.
"Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?"
24. My mother taught me WISDOM.
"When you get to be my age, you'll understand."
25. And my favorite: My mother taught me about JUSTICE.
"One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you."
*Thanks for another good one, Mrs. B!
How exciting! I got my 100th follower today! To celebrate, I have decided to give her a free button from The Button Box. Unfortunately, I can't locate her blog, so if follower 100, 'the_dog_days_of_life' could drop me a comment, I'll get to work for you!
Congrats to her and to me!
As this had become such a common occurrence, I didn't give it another thought when I got up on Wednesday to take Z to school. I had gotten up early and actually put on make-up and (sort of) did my hair because I had
It was the usual mad dash to get everyone up and dressed and out the door. Z kept trying to read books or play dolls instead of getting dressed and Q flat out refused to get out of his pajamas. His black and orange Halloween pajamas. (What? It was laundry day!) When I finally got everyone corralled and in their car seats, we head for school in heavy rain.
When we pulled up to the school, it was strangely empty. And dark. It was kind of surreal. Like that dream where you study really hard then show up and they changed the test location and forgot to tell you? The power was out. The administrator of the school came out and said they couldn't take any kids because it was hot and dark inside and to call back in half an hour.
Half an hour? But I had to see my shrink! There was nothing for it but that I take them both with me. (You still have to pay if you cancel without 24 hours notice.) Q comes with me to most of my appointments. He is generally happy to sit in his stroller and is a man of few words. But Z? Not so much.
Imagine this: you walk into your shrink's office and sit down opposite her in the matching wing backs. She starts asking you questions about how everything is going with the husband gone? Are your moods stable? Any stressors? Meantime, your kids are climbing all over her office like monkeys (Q followed Z's lead), pawing the decorations, pulling on cabinet doors (and pulling one of the handles off. Shame.), opening closet doors, and crawling in and out of my lap. At one point, Z stationed herself directly between me and the doc, blocking my view of the doc and talking over me as I answered questions.
And I was all, "Children, please come over here and color! No, no! Those aren't for you! Please say excuse me! Mama is talking to the doctor right now." in my sweetest overly high pitched parenting voice, when I wanted to be barking orders like a drill sergeant. But really? Who wants their shrink to see them yelling at their kids? And trying to discuss what might be stressing me out with Z's big ears listening to every word? Not happening.
We got out of there in record time. I am surprised she didn't double my dosages.
She'll wear the fringe skirt for the tap routine and the tutu for ballet. Squee! I can't wait to see her wear them. I swear, even if she hated it, I might make her take dance lessons JUST FOR THE COSTUMES. (I joke! I would force her to build character. Again, a joke! No forcing.) If I would let her, Z would wear her costume 24-7. The fringe skirt has already had an unfortunate run-in with Q and the whole kit and kaboodle was put away for safe keeping.
Who knew I'd be such a stage mother? I'm already planning how to do her hair. They are required to wear a bun (she is the only one with short-ish hair). I think there may be a lot of fugly bobby pins and Aqua Net involved.
Well, today was a red-letter day. Z actually followed my instructions and did not come in my room to wake me up this morning! And Q's monitor got turned off by a blip in the electricity, so he didn't wake me up either. Ironically, I woke up at about the usual time wondering where the heck Z was.
Then, the kids became totally engrossed in Diego and Wonder Pets in the other room and let me watch an entire episode of Ugly Betty. Uninterrupted! Okay, almost. I still had to refill cereal bowls and juice cups, but still!
After the kids went down for their naps, my mom-in-law came over (she's here for the Mother's Day Muffins with Mom at Z's school). In her usual fabulous way she said, "If there is anything you want or need to do, go! I'll keep the kids." I. love. this. woman. So I went and got a pedicure. You know, the kind with the massage-y chair. Mmmmmm.... massage. I got to sit and not talk (well, not fuss or correct) while reading trashy tabloid magazines for a whole HOUR. Laaaa! (That was the angels singing.)
When I got home, Mom-in-law took us out to dinner at my fave Mexican restaurant where I had... wait for it... guacamole! And I didn't have to cook dinner! Or do the dishes!
Finally, she shoo-ed me off while she bathed and put the kids to bed so I got to go see a movie. In the theater! And there weren't any gun shots, space ships, or car chases! A chick flick all the way. I went to see Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, which I thought was hilarious in a non-thought-provoking, fluffy sort of way.
So that makes five, count them!, five things off my list of favorite things. A lovely day.
I started trying to hack up a lung, which would have been fine, but I was left with a constant ache in my lung right under my right shoulder blade. It felt like I had an ember smoldering in there. Deep breaths were rather painful. Well, it seems to me that breathing isn't supposed to hurt. And the last time it did, I had pneumonia. This just gets better and better!
So I call my nurse practitioner and leave a message. And wait for her to call back. And wait. And wait. Finally I call back and her assistant tells me she has called in two more prescriptions for me: Prednisone and a cough syrup with Codeine. She didn't tell me what she thought was wrong, but Dr. Dad-in-law said the treatment was the same for pneumonia or any of several lesser lung ailments. Since I didn't have a raging fever, it probably wasn't pneumonia. Well, at least there is that.
So in my one righteous moment of 'No, thanks. I prefer to avoid antibiotics unless absolutely necessary.' it has become necessary to take not only the antibiotics, but an anti-fungal, a steroid, and a narcotic. Nice.
Okay so here are the rules of this whole blogger tag game:
1) Mention the person who tagged you and be sure to link to them!
2) Post your list of 8's
3) Tag 8 bloggers and don't forget to tell them!So I'm going to give this a try!
8 of my Most Favorite Foods
- Bulgogi (Korean barbecue)
- Pepperoni pizza with black olives
- Cadbury Cream Eggs
- Medium rare fillet Mignon
- Warm doughnuts
- Sweet cream ice cream with Heath in a Heath cone
- Green olives stuffed with jalapenos
8 Things I Cherish
- My hubs. Enough said.
- My kids. They make me tear my hair, but I wouldn't trade them.
- My dawgs. They are awful, but I love them down to the last bit of fur they shed on my furniture.
- My friends. I have an amazing group of friends who don't let time and distance get in the way of our friendships.
- Sleeping until I wake up - no kids, no alarms
- Every single comment left on my blog
- A good hair cut
- A weekend away
8 Ways I Kill Time
- Bubble Shooter (Google game)
- Picking up clutter
8 Shows I Watch
- Grey's Anatomy
- Private Practice
- Big Bang Theory
- How I Met Your Mother
- Burn Notice
- Groomer Has It
8 Things to Do Before I Die
- Lose the 'baby' weight. Yeah, yeah, it was there before I had babies. I know.
- Speak another language
- Learn HTML
- Go to Scotland
- Write a book
- Hold my grandbabies
- Visit all 50 states (I've got a good start! Mostly I need to hit New England)
- Visit Australia
8 Ways to Make Me Happy
- Get up with the kids and let me SLEEP IN
- Uninterrupted reading time; preferably with several books in a series
- Watching a marathon of my favorite show on Tivo
- Letting me pop the canned biscuits
- Giggly, happy, children
- Dancing in the aisles to Muzak at Home Depot
- A big smooch in the kitchen
- Watching a movie in the theater with all the overpriced concession items my gluttonous heart desires
8 People I am Tagging
- Kids... Me & RAW III (of course!)
- Adventures in Diapering
- Cherry Soup
- Great Fun for Kids
- Life with Birk
- Mommy in Munchkin Land
- Oh Boy, Oh Boy, Oh Boy
- Pink in a House of Blue
Tag-ees: Please don't feel obligated to participate. If you choose not to, no worries! It's just for fun!!!
I made lunch for Z and Q, calling up periodically that he needed to come eat his food. I told him that if I came upstairs, he was going to take his nap (he often naps through lunch, I wasn't punishing him!). Then I made and ate my lunch. Still no Q. By this time, his howls had decreased to the occasional protesting cry. By the time Z and I had finished our popsicles (I'm so glad it is popsicle season again!), all was silent from the upstairs hall.
I gave him some time to get good and asleep then went upstairs to move him to his crib. He was
I scooped him up and took him to his room, trying to soothe him on the way. He stopped crying when I picked him up, I guess he thought I had relented and was going to carry him down the stairs, but when I headed for his bedroom my little guy gave a performance worthy of Linda Blair. We rocked and I soothed and he screamed and protested. Finally, there was nothing for it but that I put him in the crib and close the door.
It was Z's nap time, too, so I called her up for her books. We read them to the accompaniment of Q's indignant yowling. Finally, about the time that Z was tucked in an snoozing, Q gave up the battle and went to sleep. Whew.
Only to take it up again at bed time. Sigh.
On a brighter note, a word about social dynamics: When I was teaching, I noticed that every group had a certain structure, certain roles that had to be filled. For example, if your most disruptive student moves, some other kid, who may never have been disruptive before, will move up to fill the bad-kid-vacuum.
The same thing is happening at our house, but in reverse. Usually Q is my child who is obedient and easy going, but now that he has officially hit the terrible twos, Z has slipped into the 'easy-kid' role. She couldn't be more helpful or obedient. It's a little strange, like she's a Stepford daughter or something. But I'll take it!
This makes me laugh because C2M is an Australian moms network. Paula invited me to join because I offer a service the members need. So its like me and one other American, a Canadian and 400+ Australian mums. Hee! How fun is that!
You Australian gals? Check out C2M! And The Button Box! (Yes, I am a shameless self-promoter.)
where everyone is sleeping.
in a drowsy house,
on a comfy bed,in a drowsy house,
where everyone is sleeping.
under a cuddly blanket,
near an exhausted mama,
on a comfy bed,
in a drowsy house,
where everyone is sleeping.
So I awakened this morning to discover that something the size of a balled up sock had taken up residence at the back of my throat. "Hmm," I think to myself. "It's a good thing T isn't here. I must have been a total snorebeast last night." I get up and go get a drink thinking that the sensation I am feeling is that dry sticky feeling your get from sleeping with your mouth open.
I have difficulty swallowing the water and the unpleasant-but-not-particularly-painful sensation doesn't go away. I try to look down my own throat, but... yeah. That didn't work. I fish around my mouth and discover that there is something huge and puffy in there where no huge and puffy thing should be, gagging myself in the process. I think to myself, "Self, that can't be your uvula. You didn't put your finger back that far. Is it a tumor?"
I am so perplexed by my condition that I actually asked Z's teacher, Mrs. C, if she would look down my throat and tell me what was going on in there. (Having your spouse 500 miles away is SO AWESOME! I get to have relative strangers looking down my throat!) She agreed - without looking at me too strangely - and pronounced it, "Red. Really red."
If my tonsils swell, I can usually get them back to their normal size with the application of some breakfast and a warm beverage. The beverage helped, but the cereal literally got STUCK in between my giant mass and the roof of my mouth. Good times.
I called my nurse practitioner, who was able to fit me in an hour later. I slunk into the exam room with eyes downcast and lead off, "I should have taken the antibiotics." She was very gracious and didn't tell me "I told you so," even though she would have been right.
A quick peek into my maw had her eyes widening in surprise. "Your uvula is HUGE. (Probably filled with the feathers from all that crow I was eating!) I bet it feels like you have to swallow all the time, huh?" Indeed, it did. She prescribed penicillin and advised me to eat a soft diet: mashed potatoes, apple sauce, yogurt (to help with the, erm, ailment sure to follow the antibiotics), bananas.
Apart from the Diflucan, I now have the diet of a 9 month old. And I guess I'll be farting feathers twice a day for the next week as I dutifully take my antibiotics.
"How much do you weigh?" she asks.
"135," I say. The nurse puts me on the scale. It turns out my weight is 180.
The nurse asks, "Your height?"
"5 foot 4," I say. The nurse checks and sees that I only measure 5'2'.
She then takes my blood pressure and tells me it is very high.
"Of course it's high!" I scream. "When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I'm short and fat!"
*Yet another post courtesy of Mrs. B. What would I do without her?
THE ZOMBIE CHICKEN AWARD
The blogger who receives this award believes in the Tao of the zombie chicken - excellence, grace and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned award, you now have the task of passing it on to at least 5 other worthy bloggers. Do not risk the wrath of the zombie chickens by choosing unwisely or not choosing at all...
I would face down even the zombiest of zombie chickens to read anything these ladies write:
- Extra Hot, No Water (she's not really into blog awards, but she does love all things Zombie!)
Check out their blogs! It might keep the zombie chickens at bay!
On the way up to take a bath this evening, Q suddenly realized that he was actually walking up the stairs under his own steam and stopped flat. On stair 7 of 16 he decided that he could not possibly get up the remaining 2/3 of the stairs (despite having done so eleventy-gazillion times earlier in the day) and needed to be carried. His sick and tired mama told him nothin' doin' and headed on up. Q sat down on that seventh step and started howling like a werewolf cub.
Z and I went on upstairs. She cleaned up her room and I straightened Q's. Q kept sitting and howling.
I ran a bubble bath. Z got undressed, went potty, and hopped in. Q kept sitting and howling.
Z played with the newly empty bubble bath bottle and built towering castles of bubbles. I called Q to come play in the bubbles. Q kept sitting and howling.
It got dark outside (and thus in the hallway), so I flipped on a light and entreated Q to come play. Z shrivelled up into a prune and the bubbles went flat. Q kept sitting and howling.
I washed Z up and she went and changed into her jammies. We brushed and flossed her teeth. Q kept sitting and howling.
Z and I went into her room and selected the evening's books. We cuddled in her chair and read all three of them. Q kept sitting and howling.
Finally, one hour later, when I was just about ready to put Z in bed, Q wandered into Z's room. Cheerful as can be, he said, "Poopie," in a voice that sounded like he'd been snacking on crushed glass and walked to his room.
I quickly tucked Z in and followed Q down the hall. No fighting. No fussing. Got him cleaned up and into his jammies and read his books. Then he went to bed without a peep.
I went to see my nurse practitioner yesterday. I needed a blood draw to check my thyroid levels, but while I was there she did all of the other check-up-y things. She couldn't help but notice that I had this mean mamma-jamma of a cold. She asked a few pointed questions to rule out Swine Flu, then moved on to discuss my ongoing battle with the pharmacy. (My Ob/Gyn and my nurse practitioner have the same last name, though only distantly related. The Ob/Gyn wrote my original thyroid prescriptions. Once I transferred this aspect of my care to my NP, the pharmacy has NEVER, not even once, gotten my prescription right. Arg.)
Anyhoo, she was asking me if I wanted to continue using the Wal-Mart pharmacy (see? Using the real name as payback for bad service! Heh!) to pick up my antibiotic and my new thyroid scrip. What... huh? She just slipped that antibiotic into the conversation without any preamble.
I was all, "Antibiotic? For what?" Because even though I have had no medical training, I know that antibiotics don't do any good for a VIRUS.
She looked up from her clipboard, clearly surprised. "Well, you said you had some sinus pressure several days ago. It will help clear that up..." She trailed off at what must have been my obviously incredulous face. "Um, I could give you some samples?" I guess she thought I didn't want to pay for the prescription! Clearly most of her patients must pressure her for antibiotics. I was an anomaly.
I told her that I would prefer to avoid antibiotics unless there was a clear reason to take them (keeping to myself that she hadn't done any of the appropriate exam/bloodwork to see if an antibiotic was even warranted). She ended up sending me how with Singulair samples "to dry up that drainage." Isn't Singulair an allergy medicine? And I have a cold?
Am I the only one who is okay with walking out of a doctor's office without drugs? It's a cold! It requires chicken soup and orange juice and lots of sitting on the couch watching back-logged Tivo. Not antibiotics! Not allergy medicine!
No wonder we are breeding super bugs.
I am writing to say what an excellent product you have! I've used it all of my married life, as my Mom always told me it was the best. Now that I am a full-time mom, I find it even better!
In fact, about a month ago, I spilled some red wine on my new white blouse. My inconsiderate and uncaring husband started to belittle me about how clumsy I was, and generally started becoming a pain in the neck.
One thing led to another and somehow I ended up with his blood* on my new white blouse! I grabbed my bottle of Tide with bleach alternative and to my surprise and satisfaction, all of the stains came out!
In fact, the stains came out so well the detectives who came by yesterday told me that the DNA tests on my blouse were negative and then my attorney called and said that I was no longer considered a suspect in the disappearance of my husband.
What a relief! Being a stay-at-home-mom is hard enough** without being a murder suspect! I thank you, once again, for having a great product.
Well, gotta go, have to write to the Hefty bag people.
* No husbands were injured in the writing of this letter. As a matter of fact, I just thought it was funny and I am not one little bit mad at T. Geez! Lighten up!
** No hate mail on this, please! I realize staying home with my kids is a privilege lots of moms would love to have. But let's get real: SaHM-ing is hard.