Date night with a side of caketastrophe

Otto and I don’t get out enough as a couple. This is a subjective assessment, of course; what is “enough,” really? Whatever it is, we aren’t there. This is because we have jobs and other commitments and needy teenagers and a fairly comfortable couch and also because my natural inclination is to be a hermit. Otto, however, as both the extrovert and better wife in this relationship, periodically insists that we leave the house together, just the two of us. (And apparently when we go grocery shopping together, that doesn’t count. Sheesh.)

Last night we went to the sort of artsy-fartsy thing college towns are known for; there was black-and-white photography! There was poetry! There were figs stuffed with fancy cheese! I very nearly felt like a grown-up, right up until people started packing into the tiny seating area and a woman planted herself next to me and set her wine glass on the floor. “I’m going to try really hard not to kick that over,” I told her. “I’m sort of clumsy.” I thought I was just making conversation, but she looked at me like I’d just confided that I both had Ebola AND sometimes I tongue-kiss the nearest stranger. So that was nice.

But I should back up, a minute, to earlier in the day. (more…)

  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Kirtsy
  • StumbleUpon
Comments { 56 }

Did you know it was cold?

I’m sure it comes as a tremendous shock when I tell you that Hey, it’s cold outside. It’s not as though 1) it’s cold absolutely everywhere, and 2) the news is all OMG HIDE YOUR CHILDREN IT’S THE COLDPOCALYPSE!!1!!!

So yes, it’s cold out. (In other news: Water is wet. Amazing!) It’s so cold out, we didn’t have school today.

Today at Alpha Mom, I’m telling you why this is all my fault. And I’m only sort of sorry.

  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Kirtsy
  • StumbleUpon
Comments { 5 }

Everything is just fine. WEIRD.

School started up again today, and this morning was pretty much a study in the different personality types in our household.

I ran around at a frenetic pace, packing lunches and asking the same questions over and over (“Do you have…” “Did you remember…” “But what if you…”) until Chickadee told me to “stop freaking out.” (I did not, in fact, stop freaking out. I just tried to be a little less obvious.)

Monkey bounced his way through the morning, communing with the dogs acting like today was no big deal at all, like he wasn’t just heading off to high school for the first time or anything.

Chickadee dawdled and kept assuring me “I’ve got this” and responded to my four “WHY AREN’T YOU IN THE SHOWER YET??” queries with, “Why aren’t YOU in the shower?” (Answer: Because I already showered. Also, STOPPIT.)

Otto ate his cereal and read the news and observed his family spinning around him as if it’s still somewhat confusing to him, how he ended up surrounded by all of us.

In other words, it was a perfectly normal morning except then both kids went to school and Monkey was amazing and I am kind of a mess (a hopeful mess, you understand) so we are not going to talk about that. (more…)

  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Kirtsy
  • StumbleUpon
Comments { 12 }

Smells like cinnamon and big changes

Last night I mixed up and kneaded the dough for the Super Fussy Pain In The Rear But Most Beloved Homemade Cinnamon Rolls so that I wouldn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn this morning. I took a break to call you and your friends downstairs for a bedtime snack of milk and cookies (hey, you may be teenagers, but cookies are cookies), and then you all swarmed back upstairs without even saying goodnight. I felt a small pang, but you were having so much fun, I tried to let it go.

I should’ve known better, though—you all got ready for bed and then you snuck back down to the kitchen to give me a hug. I squeezed you tight, marveling anew at how you’re nearly my height, now, and then demanded a second hug, on account of it was to be the last 13-year-old hug I’d ever get from you. You did a little dance of glee, hugged me again, then ran off with your buddies to a room littered with sleeping bags, video games, monster manuals, and stinky socks. I finished forming the rolls, ready to throw in the oven this morning.

The cinnamon rolls are always the same. They’re a fragrant anchor in a sea of ever-accelerating change, where every year I cannot believe you’re the same kid who had a birthday just one short year before. (more…)

  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Kirtsy
  • StumbleUpon
Comments { 32 }

BRB, getting my woo-woo on

Happy New Year’s Eve day! We are planning a schedule of complete debauchery today, as you might expect from party animals such as ourselves. Why, we’re going to unload the dishwasher AND reload it! Later on tonight there might be popcorn! It’s a veritable bacchanalia at Casa Mir.

I’m not terribly sad to see 2013 go. 2012 was flat-out awful, so 2013 was definitely an improvement, don’t get me wrong. But let’s just say I hope 2014 brings further improvements. Or at least more sleep. Either way.

Today at Alpha Mom I’m sharing why I do what I do to ring in the new year. No fancy resolutions or bucket lists for me, just a few hours of letting my subconscious do some arts and crafts. It seems to work.

  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Kirtsy
  • StumbleUpon
Comments { 4 }

Hut hut hike! Oh boy!

The big, exciting news from here this week is that Duncan is finally the picture of health. His skin is pink and unblemished, his hair is growing back in where it had been lost, his face is free of irritation, his legs are working well… even his nails are neatly trimmed! Basically Duncan is the poster child for puppy rehabilitation (just so long as you don’t mind your perfect puppy looking like someone smashed him in the face with a frying pan, that is). I remain deeply aggravated by all the things that were wrong with him (and how uncomfortable he must’ve been, poor pumpkin) when he came to us, because I have very few skills, but holding a grudge is one of them.

Never before has a dog looked so perfect. I mean, he even strikes a pose for the camera:

(more…)

  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Kirtsy
  • StumbleUpon
Comments { 29 }

Merry Christmas! (P.S. Not dead.)

Oh, look. I haven’t been here for a week. No explanation or anything, just *poof*—GONE. If it’s any consolation, that week took about three years, in my mind. What? That doesn’t help? Well, now I’m just going to make it worse by saying, “We are all fine (now) but due to the nature of this particular suckitude, I am not at liberty to discuss it at this time.” And now I want to punch myself in the face, so we’re all on the same page, I think.

[I know. I KNOW. Here, let me give you details as best I can: Something Really Scary And Sucky happened, and while we were trying to deal with that, Something Completely Unrelated But Equally Sucky happened. The first thing was no one's fault but the second one was 100% preventable with my general life mantra of "don't be an asshole" (which turns out to be really hard for some people). One situation is now cautiously resolved but the other may end up in a lawsuit and have I ever mentioned that I hate everything? Because sweet baby Jesus, I really kind of hate everything. And THEN my work computer died, because the only thing that week was missing was a giant, expensive inconvenience. Not that I was getting any work done last week, anyway, of course, but there you go.]

And how was YOUR week?

The good (?) news is that the dogs have definitely picked up on the recent stress and have decided to put aside their differences in the interests of a nightly snuggle:

If I’d managed Christmas cards this year, I would’ve used that picture. Peace on earth! Or at least peace on our couch. Those two little hairy beasties are helping to keep me sane, which we all know is no small task.

Here’s to a better week all around.

  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Kirtsy
  • StumbleUpon
Comments { 51 }

Weekend update, citrus-scented for your enjoyment

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this, but my life is pretty exciting. Try not to be jealous.

On Friday I spent most of the day fruit-wrangling, because nothing says “marching band fundraiser” like a gazillion cases of fruit that need to be sorted and counted and loaded into people’s cars and such. I was killing a couple of birds with one stone, really, because Monkey and I both went in to help AND we had a couple of teacher meetings in preparation for his January start at Chickie’s school AND he got to hang out in the band room with some of the kids he’ll be in class with next semester, so it was all good, really.

It was just that after we did that, then we also had to spend the weekend delivering the fruit that Chickadee sold, along with everything else we were trying to get done this weekend. I love how the idea is that “the kids go out and fundraise,” but in reality—WEIRD!—cases of grapefruit are heavy and I can’t exactly just send her out with her little red wagon to go make deliveries. Especially because we do not have a little red wagon. (more…)

  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Kirtsy
  • StumbleUpon
Comments { 15 }

Yeah, I have no idea where it comes from

You remember how surprised we were when Chickadee got her ADD diagnosis? All, “How in the world did THAT happen?” It’s a puzzle, truly. You could’ve knocked me over with the proverbial feather, at the time, and yet…

… yesterday I had a lot of work to get done and so of course by lunchtime I’d wandered into the kitchen and laid waste to about three pounds of butter. Huh.

But, uh, I was totally WORKING, see, because ’tis the season for baking, and I’ve got your holiday cookie recipes right here. I’m a giver. And that’s totally what I meant to do and was completely productive. Or something. Yes. Um. Can I offer you a cookie…?

  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Kirtsy
  • StumbleUpon
Comments { 12 }

The State of the Duncan Address

We’ve crested the three-week mark with Duncan, so I thought you might like to know how he’s doing.

I’m kidding, of course. I don’t care if you care how he’s doing. He’s my SMUSHY LITTLE BABYKINS SWEETIEBOY and one of the only one of my children whose problems I can actually solve (the other one with solvable problems is, of course, Licorice), so I’m going to tell you about him whether you care or not. I’m selfish like that.

But seriously…


… if this face doesn’t make you start talking in a high-pitched baby voice, I just don’t know what to tell you. (more…)

  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Kirtsy
  • StumbleUpon
Comments { 19 }
Design by LEAP