Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Party Prep

The baby's birthday is fast approaching!  How that is possible, I do not know.  We were just going to the hospital yesterday, or so it seems.  The 2nd one goes sooooooo fast!  Naturally party prep is underway!  We have all the decorations, plates, cups, games, prizes, favors, etc.  And the Schweddy Balls.  Yep, finally I tracked down some Ben & Jerry's Schweddy Balls.  I only have 1 pint at the moment, and hopefully we will get our hands on more.  I was lucky enough to get the very last one at the store.  I am saving my pint to crack open and share with my mom and sister who will be helping out with the party.  It'll be our little after party treat.  :)  I tried to get enough pints to actually serve it at the party, because what 1 year old's birthday party isn't complete without a little double entendre served with the cake?

A little side note, my husband told our son's pre-school teacher about how he was looking for a petting zoo with a cheetah.  I'm pretty sure she'll be calling child protective services on us, so if I go missing for awhile...

Monday, September 26, 2011

Return of the salesman who cannot take a hint... or a clear verbal warning... or a written warning...

If you can believe it, that crazy Xfinity salesman returned to our house yesterday.  He did not ring the doorbell, but he left sales paraphernalia on our door.  Well, sir, I may have been a bit of a bitch to deal with, but now you've scheduled yourself a conference from my husband who has even LESS patience for that kind of BS.  Now, we both know and understand that everyone needs to be able to make a living, and that is fine.  We put up our sign to politely let people know we didn't want to be bothered in our home.  When people ignore and disrespect that, then we get pissed.  And 3 times!  Three!  I was not unclear when speaking to this man. 

My husband called him first thing this morning, and told him not to come to the house again or he'd be calling the regional manager instead of the guy himself next time.  He tried to give the same "You already have our internet!" excuse and tried to continue with his sales pitch.  My husband cut him off, and schooled him in taking a hint, or, in this case, clear verbal and written requests to leave us alone.  People are unbelievable. 

Husband: Now I worry about you guys while I'm at work, and what this idiot might do.

Me: No worries.  I'm the girl with the hammer in her underwear drawer, and a borderline unhealthy love of shiv-making and shanking.  And have you forgotten my trusty cast iron skillet?  I'm like "give me a reason Bert*", just in cuter shoes.

Husband: I forgot who I was talking to.

*see Saturday Night Live weekend update with Seth Meyers.


Sunday, September 25, 2011

Petting zoo. Don't feed the animals your children.

I can't tell if it was just too early or if the illness has crept into his brain...

Husband: I wonder if we can find a petting zoo with a cheetah near by.
Me: All of them have cheetahs.  It is totally desirable and safe to have a cheetah in a petting zoo.  Didn't you ever see the sign?  Welcome to our cheetah cage.  Please send your small children right on in!  

H: Well, in Africa they tame them and have them like we have dogs.

Me: Well, maybe we can go to a petting zoo in Africa.  I mean, forget the zoo where we've seen a cheetah before.  Sunning himself.  At a safe distance from the short walking food we bring along with us to the zoo.

H: Well I was afraid they'd be too far away, and our son wouldn't get a good look.

Me: Well, in that case, send him on in with the cheetah!  Better get a close look and risk a mauling than have to suffer through admiring them from afar.

H: The last time we were at the zoo, didn't a deer get loose?

Me: No, that was on youtube.  Almost exactly like real life.

H: Oh yeah, it got loose and was wandering around the lions exhibit, or something like that.  He jumped into the water to avoid them.  Did they get him?

Me: I don't think so.  I seem to remember the zoo keepers helping the deer, or someone helped it.  It escaped, I'm sure.

H: They should have let them eat it.  I mean "It's the circle of life!"

Me: Yeah, that would have been awesome in front of the families watching.  Small children love watching cute fairy tale characters being devoured by other animals right before their very eyes.  Everyone loves a good gory blood and guts show when they take their kids to the zoo.

That was the juicy start to our Sunday over breakfast.  Meanwhile, our son was setting up a tape measure between our cabinets and our island to do the limbo while we had this "don't feed the animals" conversation.  I'm not sure if the week has ever started in a more random way than it did today.  

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Not crazy, just normal-deficient

We were on a mission to find the new Ben & Jerry's "Schweddy Balls", and it's been hard to find, so we were traveling into the next state to get ice cream...

Son: Mommy, why are we going so far away to get ice cream.  

Husband: Because Mommy is eccentric.


On our ice cream hunt, we started calling places, and asking if they had the new Ben & Jerry's.  One lady pressed my husband for the name of the flavor, and he tried to go with "It's the SNL skit one.." and all but she didn't get it.  He finally told her so she hung up on him.  That's when we switched to me calling and asking.  I got all young ladies on the phone so they weren't upset, but once I did get a man.  This was our conversation...

Grocery Man: What flavor?

Me:  Don't laugh.  Schweddy Balls.

GM: *laughs*

Me: You laughed.

GM: I don't know if we have that, I'll be right back.  I'll go check.

Me: Thanks!

GM: *returns to the call*  I don't have Schweddy Balls, but I do have Clusterfluff.  You can have that.

Isn't it just like a man to offer to give you a fluff, when all you asked for was balls?  *smh*

I do promise to stop talking about this as soon as I get some, and get to write a review of the new flavor!  It's just the difficulty in finding it that is making it even more funny and more of an adventure.  It's becoming a fun event, not just a cold treat!  As I explained to my sister, it's like a search for the Holy Grail and we are really just exactly like saints.

Moving on...

My husband recently gave a speech at a huge techie conference.  (I wanted to call it a "nerd party", but that is probably not the proper term for it)  They put his speech up online, and he was listening to it the other day, and he, of course, was critiquing himself (nit picking over his delivery to the point of driving himself nuts).  So I heard him listening to a speech again, and wasn't really paying attention to anything other than a man was speaking....

Me: Are you watching your speech again?

Him: What?  No.  Do I have an Australian accent?

Me: I don't know what you did for that speech.  Maybe you came down with a case of "Mysterious, Sudden, Foreign Accent."  Maybe you're just like Madonna.  She has chronic MSFA.


Friday, September 23, 2011

Grocery tomfoolery, pretty tools, and invisible flowers

Don't provoke a crazy person: Caused a scene at Safeway this AM. In my defense, I was provoked by someone displaying their complete lack of a sense of humor. It was vital to have a laughter-vention.
The man behind me had Ben & Jerry's so I said to the clerk "shoot, I forgot to check to see if you had the new Ben & Jerry's!". She said, with total angry face "Oh, the one with the nasty name? We do NOT carry THAT!". Well that kinda sourpuss-ness just instigates my bad behavior. So I came back with "Yes! That's the one! I can't wait to taste their Schweddy balls!". Well the man behind me lost it & we were laughing so hard. Even the baby stared laughing over us losing our minds. Everyone was then watching the ruckus & the clerk was even angrier looking. I said "Oh don't worry! Sheesh. It's only out for a limited time." and shook my head at her. Stick in the mud.  
 In other news:  The new shows are starting up.  We were giving Whitney a try, and I had to laugh when she pulled a hammer out of the underwear drawer with a "What is this doing here?" look on her face.  I keep a hammer in my underwear drawer.  True story.  But, it's totally normal for it to be there because it's purple.
And Kidism of the day: My oldest, and apparently most patriotic son, was telling me what they did in school today: "Every day we stand up in ellipse and say 'I pledge allegiance to the invisible flower of the United States of America."

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

You Can't Ring My Bell

When we moved here last year, one of the first things we noticed about this neighborhood was the high volume of door to door sales-people and religious recruiters.  We'd get several people knocking on our door to sell us their goods, services, or religion on nearly a daily basis.  They'd even come around into our back yard or our garage to accost us with their sales pitch.  It was incredibly annoying.  With a baby on the way, we knew we did not want that bell ringing while the baby was sleeping, so we promptly put up a "No soliciting"sign.  Well, it baked in the heat of the sun, melted, warped, fell and shattered on the ground.  Not 15 minutes later, the bell rang.  So, I picked up a cute wood plaque, and painted my own beautiful, hand-crafted, Martha Stewart - approved "No Soliciting" sign, screwed 2 magnets to it, and put it up.  Again, peace was restored, and my house was back to my own private sanctuary.  Until a few days ago...

A salesman from Comcast/Xfinity rang my bell at dinner time last week.  He looked a little flustered, like maybe he saw my sign after he rang the bell.  I took his flier, and he tried to go on endlessly, but I explained we did not like Comcast and pointed out that dinner was on my table.  End of meeting.  So, today, when the door rang during the baby's nap-time, I figured it was a delivery.  Imagine my surprise when this same asshat is standing on my stoop!  I tip toed back to the living room, and told my 4 year old "Shhhhhhh, pretend we are not home."  That's when the second door bell ring came.  I flew off the couch, ran to the door, flung it open, ripped the sign off the door, stuck it approximately one inch from his face and yelled "Can you READ?!  This says 'no soliciting!'.  It should say 'Don't you dare ring my bell and wake up my sleeping baby.'  I have this here for a reason.  Last week I told you we had Comcast previously, had terrible service they never could help us with, and got rid of it.  And yet, here you are, on my stoop, ringing my bell during nap time.  I don't want  you ringing my bell, or anyone else from Xfinity or any other salesperson.  I thought this sign was clear enough, but now I've told you verbally.  Do not ring this bell again."  He proceeded to tell me that he thought we were already customers so it would be okay.  Um, no.  That is not how this works.  My sign does not say "No soliciting unless you think we might be customers anyway"  it says "NO SOLICITING".  And if you should assume that means anything else beyond what it says you should err on the side of "Ring this bell and try to sell me shit and I will fucking stick you."  He still launched into his speech.  I had to shut the door in his face.  It was an exercise in complete stupidity and complete disregard for the person you are communicating with.  I mean, there are folks who miss social cues, but I was not being unclear I had a bright, multicolored sign that spelled it out!

Now, typically I don't behave like a hard-ass.  Keep in mind, the first time I just gave him the benefit of the doubt, told him we didn't like what he was selling, and wished him luck and excused myself back to dinner.  I didn't have to be nice on that occasion, either, in my opinion.  This is my home.  My private space.  My place where I can choose who I let in, what I have to put up with, and if I put up something that makes clear that I do not wish to be bothered, then that needs to be respected.  You disregard my feelings in my own home, then do not expect me to respond to you with respect and decency.  Don't make me break a piece of my autumn door decor off to shank you with.

Have your ice cream and laugh at it too. Also, pull the stick out of your butt.

Oh for Pete's sake, people are getting outraged over that Ben & Jerry's Schweddy Balls ice cream I was talking about yesterday. It's a joke! Yes, it's crass, but it's a friggin joke. Lighten up! I believe these people getting so worked up are just angry because they want to laugh at it but think they can't because it will make them seem like bad people. Well, life is short. Laugh it up! Who cares!? Crikey.
Look, little kids laugh endlessly over boogers and farts, and they are the happiest people on Earth. They aren't stressed out. They don't give a damn what anyone thinks about them. They just want to do their thing and have a good time... oh and dress like superheros. These uptight folks who worry so much about these harmless jokes seem like they are pretty angry folks. Maybe they should take a hint from a kindergarten class and try laughing a little.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Naughty snacks?

A conversation that was a little too fun today...

Me: I want to try the new Ben & Jerry's ice cream, but I hear it's only in select stores.  I'm trying to hunt it down, but I just can't bring myself to call around asking "Excuse me, do you have Schweddy Balls?"  That just seems inappropriate.

C: Coming from someone who stocks Ben & Jerry's almost daily, new flavors of anything take forever to trickle down to the stores.  We don't have it yet but my favorite Ben & Jerry's flavor is Clusterfluff.

V: New York Super Chunk Fudge or Cherry Garcia!

Me: I have never tried Clusterfluff!  I'll try that after I get my hands on some Schweddy Balls.  OMG I am SLAYING it!  LOL

I should have asked C when he thought Schweddy Balls would trickle down to his store.  Oh this is just the gift that keeps on giving!

Monday, September 19, 2011

Seriously I need better news to report...

Everyone is still sick!  Well, except me!  I, magically, have avoided this chest cold that all the boys in the house have come down with.  This is the 2nd illness in a row for the kids.  That makes me feel terrible.  :(  My poor babies.  The littlest is so sick and stuffy that he can hardly eat.  He tries to nurse, but pulls away and cries because he cannot breathe.  I got one of those battery powered nasal aspirator thing-a-ma-jigs for him today since he was hating the bulb syringe, but clearing his nose is always a traumatic experience.  He gets so worked up over clearing his nose, he goes into a fit and screams and cries for a good half an hour after using it.  This wears a Momma out!  I wish I could explain to him so he would understand I'm trying to help him.  He cries because he can't breathe, but cries when you try to help.  I wish I could make it better for him right this minute.  :(

I have been going on extremely little sleep for a week and a half now.  I'm held up, barely, by truckloads of caffeine.  Today I finally had to accept that not everything is going to get done until everyone is better.  Things might get out of place, and there might be some dishes in the sink, but I have to start saving myself here.  I was starting to get aches and pains from lack of sleep and constantly going going going, taking care of everyone and everything.  I love being a Mom, and I'm very happy that I can take care of my family (and not being sick is really helping me pull that off.  What a nightmare if I was sick too!), but I am also a human being who needs rest, proper nutrition, and I'm not really meeting my own needs now.  I'm starting to have cranky moments.  Today was the first day I felt that I was getting cranky, and I hope it doesn't get any worse.  I'm sure my husband also hopes it doesn't get worse, but I know he took my 2 snaps around dinner time not personally but as a sign of exhaustion. 

Anyone who is a Momma knows this story too well, I'm sure.  We've all been there.  It is comforting to know that there are other folks out there who know exactly how I'm feeling at this moment.  Helpless and sad for my sick kiddos, bad for my sick husband, frustrated that I cannot do every single thing I feel needs to get done, mental and physical exhaustion.  Would I let someone else take care of these little sickies, though?  No way.  That's my job.  That is love, and I know they love me for it.  Somehow, that love can carry you through when all your body wants to do is sleep for days. 

I'll be more chipper, eventually.  I promise!

PS For one cheerful little tidbit:

It occurred to me today, when picking up my son, that perhaps I would like to play something other than "Satan Is My Motor" when my son's pre-school teacher is helping him into the car at the end of class.  It might be leaving the wrong impression...

Friday, September 16, 2011

And Tomorrow I Shop

After a very long week, I'm ready for a little me time to wrap it up!  My oldest son is still sick, and his respiratory symptoms have actually worsened, causing me to wonder if he's coming down with some sort of chest cold in addition to what he was just getting over.  Poor kid.  The baby has also been acting strange and fussy, which often is a first sign that illness is brewing.  I'm crossing my fingers that this is just the end of the previous illness, and we're not going to be launched into something else. 

Fall is moving on in, and not just bringing illness, but cold weather!  This morning it was 43 degrees, so I sent my oldest son to school with his coat from last year.  It was a Zero Xposure coat.  I will NEVER purchase another one.  My husband, son and I all got them last year, and immediately things started to break and tear on their coats.  Mine is the only one intact.  Well, today my son returns home and I notice he has a huge tear on the front of his coat with stuffing coming out.  So, tomorrow I will be heading out to shop for new coats for my boys.  (And maybe some cute shoes and boots for the Momma :) )  Not only do I need to replace a coat immediately and get one for the baby, but retail therapy after the stressful week will be fantastic.  :) 

On an up note, Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte is back, and so is Bill Maher.  2 of my very favorite indulgences.  Happy happy joy joy!

In closing: Do NOT buy Zero Xposure coats.  DO buy PSL's and subscribe to HBO.  You're welcome.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

And We're Back!

This house is on the way to a full recovery!  My 4 year old returned to school today, and he was thrilled to be there.  They read stories, and he really loves the "Critter" stories.  He was telling me all about the "Critter" book they read today on our drive home.  Then, he asked me to take him to see the real "Critter".  We got into a conversation about fiction, and writing, creating, drawing, and making stories in your head that you put onto paper to share with others.  I told my son that even he could be an author.  I explained he could create a character that is a person or a different creature, and he could make stories up about this character.  Then we arrived home, and moved onto everything else we had to do. 

After dinner, my son presented me with a picture he drew of a creature.  Under the creature he had written it's name, "Ptnnoonnnopop".  Then he had an entire story for me to write down about this big fella.  He became a little author with the following story:


   Once upon a time, there was a Ptnnoonnnopop, but you can call him Iman for short.  Iman likes to eat hot dogs.  He likes to play a game called "Team Geo Trax", just like me.  He likes to play another game called "Puzzles".  One day, he watered his garden, but then there was a big hurricane and it made the food die.  Then, a strong wind blew his tomato plant away.  Then, a tomato came to his garden, cut a flower off, and blew that away, too!  Another day, a big giant monster came to his garden, and stomped on his cat nip.  The cat nip keeps the animals away so they do not eat Iman's food.  Then, a squirrel snuck in and ate one tiny tiny tiny strawberry.  Iman quietly snuck up on the squirrel, grabbed the strawberry, stomped on the ground, and ran away very fast so the squirrel could not eat it.  The end.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

On Momma/Nurse duty

Currently on full time Momma/Nurse duty with 2 sick kiddos.  I am not feeling very witty or observant or thoughtful.  Just "sloggin through the shit" - Jules The Kids Are All Right  The baby has only what seems to be a mild case of hand foot and mouth so far (picked up from a party we went to... no need to send home favors like that, guys!  haha), but my 4 year old has an unrelenting, nasty case of it.  So, I've been trying my hardest to make it through a febrile seizure, prevent dehydration, curb his pain, keep him comfy, and now tend to his cough on top of all of that.  Needless to say, no school for him, and it's his first full week going the full 3 hrs a day instead of just one like last week.  This entire situation is breaking my heart.  I'll be back when I feel more human and less sleep deprived/sanity deprived drone.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

What a weekend, and it's only Saturday night!

Let's start with the good... My older son, being his usual, silly self:

My husband and son come home from the grocery store, and I see a small bag of steamed shrimp...

Me: Oooh, shrimp?
Husband: They're for him.
Son: Yeah, they are for me!  Dad said I could get my cookie if I was good at the store, and I said "But I want shrimp!".  Daddy said "Okay, be a good boy, and you can have shrimp!"

Only my kid would pass on the cookie and make a special request for seafood.  *shaking my head*

We'll move along to the bad and the ugly... Sick baby!

The baby woke up in the middle of the night at 4AM Friday morning.  He was just chattering with himself off and on, dozing until I woke him for good at 7:45, which is late for him.  Immediately I knew something was wrong because he was bright red, and he had a severe, violent shiver going.  I picked him up, and, sure enough, he was on fire.  I took his temp, and it was 101.3.  I nursed him, and checked it again to see if it was just a hot sleep (I knew better, but I was really hoping it would magically be getting better), and it was 102.3.  So I started with the Tylenol, and he refused all food except 3 animal cookies, but I got him to drink a lot of cold juice.  He was sad, and tired.  The Tylenol would only bring the fever down into the 100.3-101 zone.  At the 4 hour mark... it shot up to 103.6, and that's when I called the doc for an appt.  I mean, Friday, I'd rather check his ears than run the risk of a painful ear infection over the weekend.  With no other symptoms, I was sure it was his ears.  Nope, his ears were clear.  Strep was negative.  We were unsure of what was going on, but the doc said there were a few things going around, just keep an eye on him.  If he becomes lethargic call back... well overnight his fever dropped to a low grade fever.  Today he was still very fussy and cranky, not himself.  His appetite is still hit or miss.  However, one little piece of information had been missing until about half an hour ago.  He was exposed to chicken pox!  He does have 2 small spots on him, but they may or may not be the pox.  He still has no other symptoms.  He's only 11 months old, so he's not been vaccinated.  The time frame of exposure matches exactly.  So, it's looking like chicken pox.  I am not sure if he'll just have those 2, or if it will break out tomorrow or Monday, which usually the pox don't show up until 2-3 days after the fever.  So, we'll see, but it's likely. 

My oldest has had 2 of his vaccinations, so he's almost 100% covered.  Hopefully he will not get it, because that would mean missing school, and this week is his first full week!  Last week they only went for 1 hour for 4 days.  I'd hate for that to be interrupted. 

We are crossing our fingers, and readying the oatmeal. 

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Overheard Round These Parts

Just a few conversations, or snippets of, from around our home today:

Between me and my oldest son:

Me: Why are you only wearing one sock?

Son: Cause this is my peg leg!

Of course.  How silly of me.

Between me and my oldest son, again:

Me: Can you hear your teacher when she's talking to the class?

Son:  Yes.  Well, sometimes no.  I was at the back table and she was in the front talking.  I could not hear what she was saying then.  The boy next to me leaned over and said "What did she say?", and so I said "fishing rods."

 Between my husband and I:

Him: $$$ at Ralph Lauren?!  For three shirts?!  That's ridiculous!

Me: No, not three shirts!  Don't be crazy.

Him: You said they were $14 a piece.

Me: No, I said the one he begged for was only $14, so I let him get it.

Him: How much were the other 2?

Me: There were more than 3 shirts!  He got 4 shirts, and the baby got a monogrammed onesie polo and some pants.

Him: So you got 4 shirts and a baby outfit for $$$?!

Me: Do you expect me to have itemized list of the shit I buy stored in my brain for weeks in case you  quiz me about it later?  I can't remember every little thing.  I do a lot of shit. 

Him: Well do less expensive shit.

Between the baby and I:

Me: Do you want some more peas?

Baby: Yes!

I know it's not funny, but it's the first time he's clearly said "Yes", so Huzzah!  

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Row Row Row Your House...

Holy flooding, Batman!  This rain is relentless.  Our yard, from about 15 feet behind our house going forward to the front curb, is largely under water.  My oldest son told me, a few weeks ago, that his playhouse was a pirate ship.  He must be clairvoyant.  I'm sure that playset and playhouse will be a mess once the flooding subsides and the mud gets tracked all over it.  Sliding down a muddy slide, perhaps a little boy's dream, but not a Momma's dream!  Oh the messy clothing horror!

The worst thing about this rain is it's keeping us captive in our home.  My kids need to get outside and play!  We watched a movie yesterday, and since we usually have a no TV rule, this was a real treat.  It helped distract from the "in prison" aspect of the day.  I'm thinking another movie for tomorrow if we're still stuck in here.  We'll see.  We've recorded so many movies he hasn't seen yet thanks to not letting him watch tv, so there is a lot of fun, fresh things to choose from.  It's really perfect for this situation.

Inspired by the wet situation outside I have created a new cocktail...

The Floody Mary

Take whatever beverage you may have left in your fridge (probably an old can of some soda you tried but hated, but you don't want to go to the market in this rain so you're stuck with it...).

Pour that beverage into a tall glass, about "yay" full (the actual measure of "yay" may vary depending on the individual consuming the beverage).

Fill the rest of the way with vodka.

Enjoy the rest of your rained in days.

You're welcome.

I'm ready for the rain to let up, now.  Let's get back to the pretty September weather, please!

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

School Update and Questionable Science

My son survived his first day of school!  So did I!  Yay!  Lucky for me, it was a super short 1 hour day, and that's how it will be the entire week.  He had fun.  At the end of today he told me that they were getting ready to listen to a story, and the kids were to be getting bean bags to sit on.  Two children were crying, and not able to bring themselves to participate.  My son told me he went and got bean bags for them so they could sit with him and hear the story.  I love that kid!  The funny thing is, when I went to preschool I tried to cheer up a boy in my class who cried the first several days of class... the entire class.  I guess it's genetic.  :)

Dinner time conversation / challenge between my husband and I:

Me: The old lady turns to dirt.

Him: Ashes.  She turns to ashes.

Me: The don't really specify, and, anyway, ashes are dirt.  If I had ashes on my table I'd clean it because it was dirty.  So it's not wrong to say dirt.  I didn't say soil.

Him: Plants grow in the dirt.  They can't grow in ashes.

Me: I bet they can!  At least something has to be able to grow in ashes.

Him: Let's do it!

Me: Do what?

Him: Grow a plant in someone's ashes.

Me: We're fresh out of dead body ashes.

Him: Let's get some.

Me: Um...

Him: We could steal an urn.

Me: Hmmm, that's probably the best way to obtain ashes.  I mean if one of us killed the other to get some ashes to run our science experiment, one of us would never know the outcome.  And, that would just be ridiculous.  So, stealing an urn is really the only reasonable option.

Him: Exactly.


Monday, September 5, 2011

First Day of School Eve

My oldest son starts pre-school tomorrow.  He's going to a great school, and he is excited to go.  I'm loving the new, earlier bedtime.  However, last night I started with the panic and worry about what is going to happen.  How will this little baby of mine be somewhere without me?!  How will he be living life without me to stand there and guide him?  What if he misbehaves?  What if he doesn't make friends?  What if his teacher is mean to him?  What if he forgets to go to the bathroom with all the distractions and has an accident?  It's overwhelming. 

Just a couple weeks ago he found out we drop him off at school, and we do not stay with him.  He seemed shocked and a little upset over it.  He has spontaneously mentioned it over the past 2 weeks, telling me that he "won't be sad.  I just won't look out the window to see you leave."  He says it in a sad voice.  It breaks my heart, and makes me worried that he'll feel abandoned.  How do parents do this?!  I mean what if he gets hurt and you aren't there to immediately assess the situation and kiss his boo boos?  He is such a daredevil, and I fear he is going to have a broken bone because his teachers do not know him like I do, and won't know to keep an eye out for my mini stunt man.

Do not get me wrong, I'm also thrilled for him.  We picked a place for him where we felt he would do very well.  We met his directress/teacher and her assistant.  We've seen his classroom several times.  We've met other parents.  Heck, we are even required to volunteer for 60 hours a year.  We are involved, and we have carefully chosen this place.  He has always loved it when we have gone to visit.  I'm excited to see what he learns, how he grows, what new friends he makes (assuming the "what if he doesn't make new friends" fear does not come true), what he accomplishes academically and socially.  I know he's ready, and it will be good for him.  Heck, it'll be great for him to get out and play with kids who are not a baby (though he loves his brother) 5 days a week. 

That was my sappy Momma business for the evening.  Hopefully tomorrow I will have a fantastic update that everything went swimmingly.  Now, someone be a doll and pass me a Xanax so I might actually sleep tonight.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Turkeys, Lies, and Comedians

My husband wants to make a shirt that says "I lie to my wife about turkey based meat products."  He takes pride in deceiving me about what I'm eating.  One time he went so far as to try to pass off lamb as a beef roast.  It always ends the same, with a loud "How DARE you?!"  I have certain rules about food, and one is I need to know what I'm eating.  I do not like to eat animals prominently featured in favorite childhood stories, mostly lamb or deer.  (For a long time I wouldn't eat eggs after we hatched chicks in 3rd grade.)  I also do not like my food touching another food.  Those are my top 2 food rules.  He's constantly breaking both of them.  I know, right?

Over the years my husband has tried to feed me turkey disguised as other animals.  Turkey ham, turkey hot dogs, turkey bacon, and today... turkey pepper pastrami.  I was filled with glee when I spotted pepper ham in the fridge, as I had not had it in a very long time and I really like it.  I was looking forward to my sandwich, and when I bit into it I mostly got a mouth full of heavily peppered meat, so it hadn't sunk in at first (that I was being lied to by lunch meat and my husband.)  "Mmmmm, I haven't had pepper ham for so long!  What a great idea!  Thanks, honey!"  Then the evil laughter erupted and a "I'm so glad you are enjoying it!"  So, I peered at my husband and demanded he tell me why he was laughing.  "This isn't ham, is it?  What the hell are you trying to do to me?  What IS this?!"  The next bite was salty and had that strange poser ham aftertaste.  "It's turkey pastrami." he finally admitted.  Then came the "How DARE you!"

Now, I have nothing against turkey, I love a good Thanksgiving bird, but I do not like when it pretends to be something it is not.  Like the late, great Mitch Hedberg said "... turkeys, just be yourselves."  It's mostly the odd texture that occurs when they try to morph a poultry product into a pork product that I just don't care for.  Can you imagine trying to make a living turkey dress up like a pig?  No, because it's not natural.  It's just wrong.  And the bird would probably peck you to death and summon it's smaller bird friends to poop on your head while you're out taking your Sunday stroll.

What may be more disturbing than a turkey going under cover as a pig, is my husbands need to feed me one thing and pretend it's something else.  The joy he gets out of getting me to bite into the "wrong kind of meat".  It's just weird.  He needs to get a hobby, I think.  He has too much time on his hands if he has the time to sabotage my lunch.  Perhaps he should look into turning our dirty dishes into clean ones instead of turkeys into pigs.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Out with the Fire Breathing, Green Dragon and in with a Brit.

I worked my deal finding magic, and came up with a Dyson Animal nearly 50% cheaper than regular price.  Just $19 shy of the 50% mark.  Needless to say, the husband was thrilled, and he was more than happy to schlep on over to the store and pick it up.  She's a beauty.  We have named her Darlene, and the kids even love her.  I caught the baby toddling behind me with his little toy vacuum.  I am in vacuum heaven, if there was such a place.

Kidism of the day:
My son was "ringing" himself up on his talking cash register.  He came up as $1.50.  When his dad came into the room, he exclaimed "Daddy it says I am 1 dollar and 50 cents because I'm cheap... like you!"


Friday, September 2, 2011

I Can Take a Hint, At Least The Second Time...

Several months ago, probably close to a year by now, we decided it was probably time to get a new vacuum.  The poor thing breaks in half nearly every time I use it.  This makes it very difficult to use, and probably is a sign the vacuum is done for.  However, this house is rather new to us, and so we had a whole list of things we "needed" or "wanted" for the house.  So, my husband glued the vacuum back together, and we got a kitchen table, raised our garden up for a raised bed garden with 7 beds, bought our son a bedroom set, and got a piano. 

Apparently our vacuum did not support our choice to wait on replacing it, and early this summer it shot a fireball out at me.  My husband looked it over, rigged it up, and it was running again.  So, I went back to ignoring it's issues and using much tape and glue to hold it together. 

Today the vacuum decided it had quite enough, I suppose.  At least that's the message I got from the second, much larger and smokier fire ball it shot out at me.  My 4 year old shrieked "What's going on!?!", and I said "Well, I think it's dead."  So, I made the call downstairs to my husband in his home office

Me :"How many fireballs does this thing need to shoot at me before you get me that Dyson?"

Him: "The vacuum?"

Me: "Yes, it shot fire out at me.  Your son was right there, too.  It tried to torch us."

Him: "Did it turn off?"

Me:  "No, not at all, it totally sustained some sort of fire making incident without shutting down.  Maybe it's a dragon.  Of course it shut off!"

Him  "Well, I didn't know if you shut it off."

Me: "It created fire, threw it at me, and shut down.  It was a suicide mission."

Him: "We can't afford the Dyson you want."

Me:  "We can't afford NOT to get a Dyson.  I did my research.  Dyson was recommended by way more of my friends than any other vacuum.  And, not once, did anyone mention their Dyson being responsible for any arson or attempted murder by fireballs."

Him:  "We'll see.  Do you have a coupon?"

Me:  "Of course I have a coupon.  Do you even know me?"

Part of me wants to keep this vacuum just because it's gotten to the point of ridiculous.  I mean, what else would it resort to in an effort to terminate it's cleaning contract?  Maybe I don't want to know.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

I am a 58 Year Old Man

I believe in manners, good manners.  I send thank you notes, and I make sure each one has a personal message so the person knows I took the time to actually think about my thanks.  I even had my 4 year old participate in writing the thank you notes for his birthday gifts, and he signed each note.  I am not rude, and I do not talk down to folks, even when my job would involve being someone's superior.  I may be opinionated, and often completely disagree with folks, but I do value their opinion and do not treat them badly because we view things differently.  I am on time.  I do not arrive super early, putting a host in the weird position of entertaining guests while she or he is still preparing for a party.  I always RSVP. 

My sister loaned a book to me written by Tim Gunn.  As I am reading this book, it is becoming clear to me that I am a 58 year old man. 

I find there is a sharp drop off in these modern times in thank you note giving.  Only about 25% of the folks I invite to any gathering actually RSVP.  I have also learned that just because someone doesn't RSVP, it does not mean they won't be coming.  (I even circle the RSVP section on invitations, this does not make a difference.)  And it seems as though way too many people enjoy being cruel to other folks and speaking down to them for reasons that are less than obvious.  Maybe they find it entertaining?  I also see people be downright belligerent to people they don't agree with, who may have a different lifestyle, or maybe they just think they are less of a human being than themselves and deserve to be treated poorly.  I won't pretend to know why these folks act that way.

Not Tim Gunn!  Tim Gunn and I are way too alike.  I guess I'm just behind the times, an old soul, even a man.  He knows the art of respectfully disagreeing, of being polite, of gratitude.  I must point out that I have never seen the show he is on.  My sister LOVES that show.  Since I've been reading this book, I wonder if she tunes in mostly to see him.  He is witty and kind.  He will call you out, but his intentions are not wicked. 

So there you have it.  To my friends who think I'm too fussy and too old fashioned, just know that I'm really a 58 year old man.  And, since that man is Tim Gunn, that explains my love of clothes.