OK, my son decided to quiz me on my "coolness". hmmph, he questions my coolness, does he? why I once dated someone with bright blue hair and an earring before every guy and his brother had an earring. and the blue hair was on a 20 something.
why, I went through a Goth period before it was cool to be pale.
"you're so off the hook"
OK, I got this wrong. I thought it meant "wow, you are so cool". he says it means "you are in so much trouble". then he started to explain it further and Hannah Montana and Mickey Mouse were involved and then he said forget it. on to the next.
"you're fly"
well come on.....everyone knows this one. it means you are really Jeff Goldblume and you are making a remake of "The Fly" and failing miserably to live up to Jeff's portrayal of the bug-man.
OK...I think this means "you're cool". he said I was close enough.
"I need to fast back it to the right part"
ummm, ?????????????
oh, he isn't asking me a cool question, he is actually asking me a real life 8 year old question! he wants to rewind the show he is watching to watch a part again. "fast back"= rewind. fast back has a bit of a ring to it.
"what does the power card of Pokemon Pikachu do to the fire breathing Pokemon and then when they battle who do you think will win?"
yeah...I give up. no freaking clue.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
there... is... another... Sky...walker
yeah, so you know the scene is Star Wars where Yoda tells Luke that there is another Skywalker and then later Luke learns that Leia is his twin sister and all that jazz? (yes, you know...you remember, I see you nodding, Holly, thank you)
anyways, I am feeling that my baby and my oldest son are really the same person, split apart by 8 years. twins. the similarities are...uncanny.
first of all, they look exactly the same. I think maybe my oldest had a bit more hair at this point(15 months), but beyond that they are dead ringers for one another.
next, they both enjoy wooden spoons. my son pretty much took a wooden spoon and used that to teeth on, carry around, sleep with, etc. when he was a baby. yes, of course I had all of these really colorful, textured so called "real" teething toys. he wanted no part in them. this baby- same way. I just didn't even bother with a lot of toys this time around, he'll only play with a handful of toys and chew on that same freaking wooden spoon anyways.
the blankies. my children all have their very own blankies. even the 8 year old still has 1 special, ragged, holey, stained beyond cleaning blanket. he has it on his bed. it comes out in public if he is hurt, sick, or wanting to appear especially cute and trying to talk me into something. my daughter has 2. one is the blanket that matched the outfit she came home from the hospital in(awwww). and the other is another pink blanket that she just took a liking to. both of these are around dailey. they are constantly in her range. she can tell you excatly where the blankies are at any point in the day. when I steal them away for washing, she literally goes out to check the laundry every so often...someone might steal them or someothing, I guess? now the baby has 2. one was a gift from my sister and is a blue teddy bear head with a blue blanket body. this is "B.B." the other one is a blue velour/satin blanket that I got at WalMart while pregnant. the man was highly opposed to "his" son having satin...he got over it.
so, back to my clones. they have the same "looks" and expressions. the only difference is that the baby can't talk nearly as much as the 8 year old can. the 8 year old will sometimes look at me like he is thinking, "really? really? you're my Momma? this is the best I could get?". and today, I swear to you the baby had that same look. of course, this was after I almost dropped him head first while trying to slice a banana and let the dog out while holding him. don't ask...it all happened so fast it's a bit of a blur. the point is that my baby already knows that his Momma is a clutz who cannot multitask successfully. it took my other 2 until at least age 3 or so to learn this.
damn, I thought I had this Momma thing down better by now. (and no...I'm not trying for 4)
anyways, I am feeling that my baby and my oldest son are really the same person, split apart by 8 years. twins. the similarities are...uncanny.
first of all, they look exactly the same. I think maybe my oldest had a bit more hair at this point(15 months), but beyond that they are dead ringers for one another.
next, they both enjoy wooden spoons. my son pretty much took a wooden spoon and used that to teeth on, carry around, sleep with, etc. when he was a baby. yes, of course I had all of these really colorful, textured so called "real" teething toys. he wanted no part in them. this baby- same way. I just didn't even bother with a lot of toys this time around, he'll only play with a handful of toys and chew on that same freaking wooden spoon anyways.
the blankies. my children all have their very own blankies. even the 8 year old still has 1 special, ragged, holey, stained beyond cleaning blanket. he has it on his bed. it comes out in public if he is hurt, sick, or wanting to appear especially cute and trying to talk me into something. my daughter has 2. one is the blanket that matched the outfit she came home from the hospital in(awwww). and the other is another pink blanket that she just took a liking to. both of these are around dailey. they are constantly in her range. she can tell you excatly where the blankies are at any point in the day. when I steal them away for washing, she literally goes out to check the laundry every so often...someone might steal them or someothing, I guess? now the baby has 2. one was a gift from my sister and is a blue teddy bear head with a blue blanket body. this is "B.B." the other one is a blue velour/satin blanket that I got at WalMart while pregnant. the man was highly opposed to "his" son having satin...he got over it.
so, back to my clones. they have the same "looks" and expressions. the only difference is that the baby can't talk nearly as much as the 8 year old can. the 8 year old will sometimes look at me like he is thinking, "really? really? you're my Momma? this is the best I could get?". and today, I swear to you the baby had that same look. of course, this was after I almost dropped him head first while trying to slice a banana and let the dog out while holding him. don't ask...it all happened so fast it's a bit of a blur. the point is that my baby already knows that his Momma is a clutz who cannot multitask successfully. it took my other 2 until at least age 3 or so to learn this.
damn, I thought I had this Momma thing down better by now. (and no...I'm not trying for 4)
my little Stephen Spielberg
yeah, so for the record, I have not allowed any of my children to watch Jaws. he came up with this whole scenario on his own, complete with red towel..."'cuz the water is bloody, Momma. I can't use the beige towel....." while looking at me like I am the one who has lost my mind.
I guess he was a little bored. early storms today, early dinner, he decided to make a whole little scene in the shower. I have no idea if he actually cleaned himself. he's almost 9, I leave that up to him unless I visibly see dirt somewhere on his body, I'll assume he's got it under control.
my daughter was not as impressed. the thought of Bride Barbie being mauled by a Fisher Price shark in my shower was too much for her. she immediately gathered all Barbies and took them to her room. (perhaps I should set up little scenes like this one whenever the Barbie population is starting to crowd me)
Friday, July 11, 2008
McDonald's Hell Day
I'll admit it. I eat at McD's about once a week. the kids love it. they have a "regular order". I, on the other hand, vary my order from time to time. well, I may have visited and ordered McDonald's for the last time(at least for me).
the day started with an outing.we went to the movies. AMC Theaters have $1 movies on Wednesdays for the kids. I foolishly thought to myself, "self, of course you can take all 3 kids to the movies by yourself. you are a strong, capable woman. this will be easy peasy."
this, of course, is when I lost my mind for a bit. what in the H*ll was I thinking? a 15 month old sitting and watching a movie and not having a screaming wildchild fit of ear deafening noise levels is what I was clearly not thinking about. we got there, got seats. got settled and I had packed enough snacks for a family of 10. they were happy. movie started, and within about 10 minutes it was very evident that the 15 month old was NOT happy. I told the other 2 that I was going to walk around with the baby, stay and sit here and watch the movie. I stupidly thought that perhaps the baby would fall asleep. (yes, go ahead and laugh out loud here)
a few minutes turned into me walking back and forth in the little lobby area (still inside the theater, by the doors and trash cans)and trying to keep the little angel from picking up and eating spilled popcorn and other yummies off of the floor. after about 20 minutes of this and numerous people walking by to go out to the restrooms and making nice comments like, "oh, he is SO cute!" and "wow, you've got your hands full with that one, huh?".
the other 2 kids came out. they had to go to the bathroom. we all went. once outside the restrooms, I asked if they really wanted to see the rest of the movie, or could we call it a day and head back towards home.it was all of 11:30AM by now and I was done. they agreed,as long as we could stop by and get lunch at McDonald's. I happily agreed because this meant I did not have to continue chasing the little wee child and keeping him from trying to escape the theater.
so, we drive thru at McD's and order our lunch. we ate at home and just as we were finishing, the man got home(early). the kids were excited that Daddy came home early, so they proceeded to tell him all about our adventures of the day. he, of course, told me I was nuts for thinking the baby would do well at a movie theater. "mmphphhhh" was my reply.
I cleaned up the kitchen table and started feeling a little strange. strange as in all of a sudden I was freezing in the 90 degree Florida summer. then I broke out in a full body sweat. then, I knew I was going to throw up. like NOW. I made it to the bathroom and proceeded to make a mess of myself. I walked out a few minutes later, and handed my clothes to the man who had a bewildered look on his face as to why his wife was now naked and green. I told him I was sick, could he throw this stuff into the washing machine. now is when he pulls one of his "d'uh" moments. he asks me, "why?" I said, I thought maybe I had food poisoning and there was McDonald's puke now on my clothes he was holding. (insert little snicker here at the look that spread over his face as he realized he was holding vomit somewhere in his hands. hey, I have cleaned up way worse. he can handle a little vomit.) and then, I quickly ran back to the bathroom to continue the pukefest.
you know when you're sick and vomiting and you reach that point where you really just want to die so you can be done with the vomiting? after crouching, kneeling, leaning, hanging over the toilet for about 2 hours, I was at that point. and my dear dog must have sensed it, because it was at this point that she decided she needed to take care of me. by taking care of me I mean she forced her way into the bathroom and stuck her face into my face and started to sniff and lick and whine. and I continued to have dry heaves(because there was nothing left at this point). I yelled for the man and he eventually came in.
he asks, "you OK?". yeah, peachy.
at this point I wanted to just lay down, but the man had decided to change the bed linens out, but had not put any fresh ones back onto the bed. I laid down on the unmade bed, in a towel, and tried to meditate myself into non-nausea land.
at about 9PM, I sent him to the store to buy me drugs. he took our daughter for help. the drugs worked and I was able to finally fall asleep around 1AM.
my children survived. the house was a wreck. the dog is still looking at me like I need assisitance. and the man has now told everyone we know how wonderful he is because he "helped to take care of me". he did eventually put new sheets on the bed, btw.
so, in closing....Alvin and the Chipmunks was moderately funny for the first 15 minutes or so of the movie, couldn't tell ya what happened after that. a Big Mac combo meal is not pretty at all coming out of the human body at mach 3.
the day started with an outing.we went to the movies. AMC Theaters have $1 movies on Wednesdays for the kids. I foolishly thought to myself, "self, of course you can take all 3 kids to the movies by yourself. you are a strong, capable woman. this will be easy peasy."
this, of course, is when I lost my mind for a bit. what in the H*ll was I thinking? a 15 month old sitting and watching a movie and not having a screaming wildchild fit of ear deafening noise levels is what I was clearly not thinking about. we got there, got seats. got settled and I had packed enough snacks for a family of 10. they were happy. movie started, and within about 10 minutes it was very evident that the 15 month old was NOT happy. I told the other 2 that I was going to walk around with the baby, stay and sit here and watch the movie. I stupidly thought that perhaps the baby would fall asleep. (yes, go ahead and laugh out loud here)
a few minutes turned into me walking back and forth in the little lobby area (still inside the theater, by the doors and trash cans)and trying to keep the little angel from picking up and eating spilled popcorn and other yummies off of the floor. after about 20 minutes of this and numerous people walking by to go out to the restrooms and making nice comments like, "oh, he is SO cute!" and "wow, you've got your hands full with that one, huh?".
the other 2 kids came out. they had to go to the bathroom. we all went. once outside the restrooms, I asked if they really wanted to see the rest of the movie, or could we call it a day and head back towards home.it was all of 11:30AM by now and I was done. they agreed,as long as we could stop by and get lunch at McDonald's. I happily agreed because this meant I did not have to continue chasing the little wee child and keeping him from trying to escape the theater.
so, we drive thru at McD's and order our lunch. we ate at home and just as we were finishing, the man got home(early). the kids were excited that Daddy came home early, so they proceeded to tell him all about our adventures of the day. he, of course, told me I was nuts for thinking the baby would do well at a movie theater. "mmphphhhh" was my reply.
I cleaned up the kitchen table and started feeling a little strange. strange as in all of a sudden I was freezing in the 90 degree Florida summer. then I broke out in a full body sweat. then, I knew I was going to throw up. like NOW. I made it to the bathroom and proceeded to make a mess of myself. I walked out a few minutes later, and handed my clothes to the man who had a bewildered look on his face as to why his wife was now naked and green. I told him I was sick, could he throw this stuff into the washing machine. now is when he pulls one of his "d'uh" moments. he asks me, "why?" I said, I thought maybe I had food poisoning and there was McDonald's puke now on my clothes he was holding. (insert little snicker here at the look that spread over his face as he realized he was holding vomit somewhere in his hands. hey, I have cleaned up way worse. he can handle a little vomit.) and then, I quickly ran back to the bathroom to continue the pukefest.
you know when you're sick and vomiting and you reach that point where you really just want to die so you can be done with the vomiting? after crouching, kneeling, leaning, hanging over the toilet for about 2 hours, I was at that point. and my dear dog must have sensed it, because it was at this point that she decided she needed to take care of me. by taking care of me I mean she forced her way into the bathroom and stuck her face into my face and started to sniff and lick and whine. and I continued to have dry heaves(because there was nothing left at this point). I yelled for the man and he eventually came in.
he asks, "you OK?". yeah, peachy.
at this point I wanted to just lay down, but the man had decided to change the bed linens out, but had not put any fresh ones back onto the bed. I laid down on the unmade bed, in a towel, and tried to meditate myself into non-nausea land.
at about 9PM, I sent him to the store to buy me drugs. he took our daughter for help. the drugs worked and I was able to finally fall asleep around 1AM.
my children survived. the house was a wreck. the dog is still looking at me like I need assisitance. and the man has now told everyone we know how wonderful he is because he "helped to take care of me". he did eventually put new sheets on the bed, btw.
so, in closing....Alvin and the Chipmunks was moderately funny for the first 15 minutes or so of the movie, couldn't tell ya what happened after that. a Big Mac combo meal is not pretty at all coming out of the human body at mach 3.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
the man is not organizable
not sure if that is really a word, organizable. but, he is incapable of it.
since we had the rodent visitors in the garage, we have now gone through and cleaned everything and gotten rid of stuff that has been sitting on shelves for almost 15 years. so, I asked him if I got a clear container for the smaller yard tools, would that work to keep them all togehter on the shelf? he said yes, good idea. I took that to mean that he agreed with me and that yes, a container would be helpful. obviously, I was mistaken.
I got the container, brought it home.
set it down next to the shelf that was now clean, with absolutely nothing on it. all of the "stuff" was on the garage floor.
I continue on inside, put away groceries, vacuum, care and feed 3 children, etc. I'm thinking all along, "ahhhhhh, the man is organizing. this is so nice. I'm going to walk out there and see a shelf that I can see what is on it. and not see little hideaway spots where rodents could be lurking, ready to jump out at me.
I walk outside, and the man is smiling, he is happy and pleased with himself. I look at the shelf, and yes, it is clean. but, all of the "stuff" is piled right back onto the shelves. the new clear container is sitting on the floor, next to the shelf. empty.
he looks proudly at me and says, "guess we didn't need that container anyways. it all fits."
so, while he is gone tomorrow, I'll fix it. and organize it.
and, just wanted to add that Tropical Storm Bertha, if it stays on its' projected path, is heading right for me. yes, TWC is one of my favorite channels on the remote.(for those of you not familiar, TWC= The Weather Channel...a very important channel in Florida come June 1 every year). and yes, the man is already laughing at me with my Hurricane Box list. let's just see who's laughing when he needs a few squares of toilet paper. or water. or food. yeah, you go on laughing. when we need a few extra AA batteries in December, who always has them left over from the Hurricane Box? mmm hmmmm, me.
since we had the rodent visitors in the garage, we have now gone through and cleaned everything and gotten rid of stuff that has been sitting on shelves for almost 15 years. so, I asked him if I got a clear container for the smaller yard tools, would that work to keep them all togehter on the shelf? he said yes, good idea. I took that to mean that he agreed with me and that yes, a container would be helpful. obviously, I was mistaken.
I got the container, brought it home.
set it down next to the shelf that was now clean, with absolutely nothing on it. all of the "stuff" was on the garage floor.
I continue on inside, put away groceries, vacuum, care and feed 3 children, etc. I'm thinking all along, "ahhhhhh, the man is organizing. this is so nice. I'm going to walk out there and see a shelf that I can see what is on it. and not see little hideaway spots where rodents could be lurking, ready to jump out at me.
I walk outside, and the man is smiling, he is happy and pleased with himself. I look at the shelf, and yes, it is clean. but, all of the "stuff" is piled right back onto the shelves. the new clear container is sitting on the floor, next to the shelf. empty.
he looks proudly at me and says, "guess we didn't need that container anyways. it all fits."
so, while he is gone tomorrow, I'll fix it. and organize it.
and, just wanted to add that Tropical Storm Bertha, if it stays on its' projected path, is heading right for me. yes, TWC is one of my favorite channels on the remote.(for those of you not familiar, TWC= The Weather Channel...a very important channel in Florida come June 1 every year). and yes, the man is already laughing at me with my Hurricane Box list. let's just see who's laughing when he needs a few squares of toilet paper. or water. or food. yeah, you go on laughing. when we need a few extra AA batteries in December, who always has them left over from the Hurricane Box? mmm hmmmm, me.
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