We are easily amused
Monkey has passed six-and-a-half and is headed into six-and-three-quarters territory. In kindergarten, he was one of the smallest kids in the class, and one of the few who didn’t lose a tooth during the year. This was a source of great sadness for my boy.
So when he told me he had a loose tooth, a few weeks ago, we were all delighted. Of course, this “loose tooth” moved about a hair’s breadth in either direction, provided that you were pushing with all your might. That was fine. And then yesterday he told me that it was REALLY WIGGLY, and I watched as he easily made the tooth flop back and forth.
And then I saw… something else. There is no describing the joy and celebration that ensued when I informed him that—just like his sister before him—he has joined the ranks of the fearsome sharks.
Such a girl
One week from yesterday I will be departing for BlogHer, and two weeks from tomorrow I will be embarking on the 3-Day.
Six months ago both events sounded wonderful and I couldn’t wait.
One month ago both events sounded terrifying and I wondered if I could get out of them.
I can make no promises about tomorrow, but today I am on top of the world; I’m staring down the barrel of two very different experiences and I feel… ready. Sassy. Myself.
But I’m a little bit worried that it’s just because my hair looks so damn good. read more…
Men are from Home Depot
I’m just sitting here thinking that I may need a new name for my pseudo-dating category. But that would require more thought than I’m willing to expend right now. Time! Time is at a premium! There are a million things to be done and never enough time in which to do them. Why waste precious minutes renaming a blog category when I could be… trying to pry open my windows.
(Once upon a time, someone painted all of my windows shut. I would like to hunt that person down and use his tibia to bang against the window frame every time I have to try to unstick things just to get a little bit of fresh air in here.)
ANYWAY. Hi! How are you? I am well! But my house is ailing and I had forgotten that Having A Man Around means Fixing The House. Whether I want to or not. read more…
. . . and that’s why I don’t clean more
I love to have a clean house. I love clean towels. I love clean sheets. I love floors clean enough to eat off of (not that I’m in the habit of eating off of floors, but you know). I love a clutter-free living space, and I wish everything in the world was lemon-scented.
Clean is good.
Unfortunately, Clean has a kryptonite. And that kryptonite likes to call me Mama.
Let’s be clear: It’s not that cleaning was my favorite activity, pre-children. I am a basically lazy human. While I like things TO BE clean, I wasn’t necessarily all that interested in ACTUALLY CLEANING THEM. I mean, I would do it, because I’ve yet to figure out how to WISH things into tidiness. But it wasn’t something I LOVED.
And then I had kids. read more…
Tacos and trauma
As Chris noted earlier today, it has been Hot ’round here. Very Very Hot. Too Hot To Play Outside Hot.
I never realized there was such a thing as Too Hot To Play Outside, but there really is. I was driving back from some errands (oh, blessed babysitter: how I do love thee) this morning and heard on the radio that—in addition to being So Very Hot outside—we were having a day of dangerously high ozone levels, and so it was recommended that all children, elderly, pets, and anyone who likes to breathe oxygen stay inside as much as possible.
[This, by the way, confuses me. First, isn’t there a troublesome hole in the ozone layer? But we have TOO MUCH ozone? Can’t we just use it to plug up the hole? Second, why is there LESS ozone inside my house? Do I have an Ozone Filtration System? Do I need to put rock salt into it periodically?]
Mmmm. . . mint chocolate dust
The kids and I made ice cream today. It turns out that putting chocolate chips into a ziploc bag and then beating the crap out of them with a rolling pin results in holes in the ziploc bag along and unchanged chocolate chips. Dumping those same chocolate chips into the blender results in very tasty chocolate dust, which can later be added to mint ice cream and enjoyed after dinner.
This was important, because other than church and the grocery store, we went nowhere and did nothing today. It was about 150 degrees outside, too. And we were still recovering from yesterday. At least, I was. So in exchange for being trapped in the house together, I offered up a lesson in custard bases.
Other than making ice cream, I’m sure I did lots of other important things today. I just can’t remember what any of them are. But, um, I do know that I wrote this post. You should read it. And then make your kids some ice cream, to celebrate your neglect of them! Wooooo!
So, um, I would tell you more, but there’s really not much else to tell. I am boring. But if you want to come on over for ice cream, please do, because we have kind of a lot.
[Bonus: Keep an eye out at Want Not for a special! guest! post, coming soon. That is code for “I didn’t know something and so I batted my eyelashes at someone who did.”]
$400,000 in $5,000 bills
I’ve been trying to remember all day, what that animal at the end of Dr. Doolittle (the book, not the movie) is called. I think it’s a Pushme-Pullyou.
That’s what I should’ve dubbed Chickadee.
Monkey had a birthday party at a local kids’ museum to go to, and I called the birthday mom to ask if she thought there was enough age-appropriate stuff there for Chickadee; if so, I would buy us tickets and we’d come in as well. Oh, she said, we have several kids who aren’t coming. Just come on in and let her join the party. Was she sure? Oh, sure, they had other siblings coming, please just join us.
So we went. read more…
What to wear if you’re not a cow
In my continuing quest to make sure my children require therapy for the duration of their childhood and well into their adult years, today I took them to the mall. Dressed as cows.
Yes, it’s okay. Take a moment to soak that up. It was 97 degrees outside, and I dressed them as cows and took them to the mall. Because I am the Greatest. Mother. EVER.
But this reminds me (and what a nice segue) to point out that if you are planning on acquiring a men’s or ladies’ special edition, 3-Day-supporting, ultra-super-cool Woulda Coulda Shoulda t-shirt, you need to do so by the end of next week. The shirts will be available until July 22nd and then they will be gone forever. (I need to have time to tally it up and get the funds deposited into my walk account.) (Not to mention that then I need to start freaking out about BlogHer.)
Hey, not everyone can pull off being dressed like a cow. But everyone needs a cool t-shirt for a good cause….
In which I am scarred for life
Today was a positively magnificent day. MAGNIFICENT. Superb. Stupendous. Roget would have a field day with the last 24 hours, so replete with fantabulous synonyms as it was.
I got a decent night’s sleep. Work is going well. The children behaved. I finished up a bunch of things I’d been putting off. People, MY HAIR LOOKED GOOD. I am so not kidding you about what a good day it was.
In fact, I was even able to get my sitter on short notice for a choir rehearsal I hadn’t known we were having tonight. This was a good thing, because apparently we’re having some sort of Big Thing this summer for which we’re singing approximately ninety pieces of music that I’ve never seen before. Even THAT was perfectly fine. There was iced tea at rehearsal! I love iced tea! read more…
Better than knock-knock jokes
My children have discovered this World Wide Web thing, and my life may never be the same.
We were riding along in the car today, on our way home from grocery shopping, and Chickadee piped up from the back seat: “Mama, when you were a kid, and you didn’t have computers, what did you DO if you wanted to know something about something?” I suggested that I was going to need just a WEE BIT more information to go on, to answer that question, and she continued: “I mean, what if you wanted to find out the state bird or whatever?”
When I told her we would go to the library, she LAUGHED AT ME. “They don’t have EVERYTHING at the LIBRARY!” she scoffed.
I wish I was eight again. It must be nice to know everything. read more…