Ever have one of those days where you fall in bed thinking that you've narrowly escaped total annihilation? I've had one of those weeks.
Monday started out slow. We took our usual nut-house trip to the grocery, and then I had to make a trip to my Dad's. My dear dad had asked me to help install his new LCD TV that was being delivered on Monday afternoon. I schlepped over there, all ready to move the humongous old TV onto the floor, install the new 37" model on the TV stand, vacuum the living room, and carry the humongous old TV to my car in payment. Turns out, he bought me a new LCD TV to take home. I think he's slipping. Still, COOL. I brought it home, dragged The Family out to the car, sang "Happy Birthday to You" and "We Wish You a Merry Christmas", and presented TV From Grandfather.
The Girl threw up dinner that night. All over the bathroom floor and in the sink. I'm telling you, it was spectacular. Pokemon mac-n-cheese, fruit snacks, salad, and the piece de resistance -- mint chocolate cookies. There's always that one item that almost makes a one-person vomiting incident into a two-person vomiting incident... Seriously, it was astonishing. I had to clean it out of the door hinge, shower curtain, the walls. It required an entire roll of paper towels. Phenomenal. Those little Pikachu noodles don't look nearly as cute the second time around. But at least I know the bathroom is clean now.
Tuesday morning, bright and early, we headed out to Target to get a birthday present, ran home, ate lunch, got to the birthday/pool party by 1:00. The Girl started fussing as soon as we got there. The fussing escalated into whining and then crying. She was inconsolable. I called for The Husband to come get her. (Dial office; no answer. Dial home; no answer. Dial cell phone; no answer. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Act surprised when Husband says he just got in.) The Boy only maimed one child at the party, and then pushed me in while I was collecting up our pool toys to go home. I had thought I had made my point about people getting hurt and not pushing in anyone who doesn't want to get in. But no. Damn. Soggy seats in the car again.
The boy vomited Tuesday night. I called the orthodontist early Wednesday, and he said, "No problem! Bring him in anyway!" I endured a couple of hours of "But whyyyyy can't I go to play group at the beach?" and it was time for lunch and then new braces at the orthodontist's. $1200 later, The Boy has two bands and four "brackets" glued on his teeth. The wire is held on with colored rubber rings -- one each: blue, gold, red, and green. We stopped and got soft, orthodontist-approved foods to eat at the grocery. He threw up on the way home from the grocery store. After two hours of whining and moaning, I finally beat the truth out of him: his throat hurt and his mouth tasted bad. I actually sat in front of the kid's bed and spooned tropical fruit sherbet into his pitiful mouth. Worked like a charm. ;) What a cutie!
Which can only lead to one thing -- spoiled child syndrome. He's so cute, and I'm feeding him like a teething baby. I haven't cut up canned peaches into little cubes in a long, long time, and it's kind of fun. Little half-inch cheeseburger bites for dinner with tiny, little watermelon pieces... My sweet, brave, little prince!
Then Thursday came. His bottom teeth were banging on the top braces, so it was back to the orthodontist to have the "bite blocks" made a little bigger. Nasty taste in the mouth again. Trip to the grocery again. Oy.
We made it home Thursday afternoon without incident, and collapsed. I finally set up the new TV, and it's SWEET! I called my dad to tell him so, and he recommended a screen guard for it. Five minutes later, my mom calls. "You know your father's mad at you." Heh? "He says you never thanked him for the TV." AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! Someone release me!!
So, tomorrow? 8:00 psychiatrist appointment, and then a visit with the "thank you note" fairy. Wish me luck.
And ask me about my new curriculum! Two days before all heck broke loose, I actually went to a curriculum fair! Whee!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Relatives visiting -- the first in 7 years!
Well, it's been an exciting week. Brother-In-Law has been visiting his son in town this week, which actually means that BIL has been visiting us. Apparently, his son works nights and hasn't really internalized the concept of "host". He's just been hanging out in his living room, playing his games and watching TV. "Hey Dad, good to see ya -- pull up a chair."
The poor man had been in town for a week and hadn't made it to the beach yet, so we tried to drown him yesterday night. Yup, drove him to the beach and took him out past the breakers. We all (kids, husband, BIL and me) bobbed with the swells until they carried us back into the breakers and tried to smash us to oblivion. Glad to say that I was the only one that didn't get whacked by a good-sized wave. Yay me!
In homeschool news, The Box from Calvert School arrived. I haven't had the nerve to open it yet. So much rests on whether this looks good... I want to pick up The Girl's materials at a homeschool conference next week, so that they dovetail into The Boy's. I think I'm going to be a scumbag and let her piggyback on his Calvert science and history lessons. Even if I do put her in Verticity (their sister school for language-disabled), she'll won't be in the same grade. Oh, who knows!
In other news, The Man has been experimenting with his housework style. He actually leaves the dishes for me to deal with. Huh?! I have been telling him for years that if he cleans up after the rest of us all the time, we'll never learn to do it ourselves. Socks in the living room? I've never seen any -- although I do vaguely recall leaving some there last night. Hmm. Oh well!
So he's leaving me a FULL sink of dirty dishes in the morning. He's calling my bluff, and now I have to empty and refill it every morning, keep it filled all day, cap it off after dinner, and run it at bedtime. Yay. I "own" the dishes. I still "own" getting groceries, putting them away, figuring out what to serve, and cooking the food. Ech. I feel like a housewife.
Oh. Wait. I am!
The poor man had been in town for a week and hadn't made it to the beach yet, so we tried to drown him yesterday night. Yup, drove him to the beach and took him out past the breakers. We all (kids, husband, BIL and me) bobbed with the swells until they carried us back into the breakers and tried to smash us to oblivion. Glad to say that I was the only one that didn't get whacked by a good-sized wave. Yay me!
In homeschool news, The Box from Calvert School arrived. I haven't had the nerve to open it yet. So much rests on whether this looks good... I want to pick up The Girl's materials at a homeschool conference next week, so that they dovetail into The Boy's. I think I'm going to be a scumbag and let her piggyback on his Calvert science and history lessons. Even if I do put her in Verticity (their sister school for language-disabled), she'll won't be in the same grade. Oh, who knows!
In other news, The Man has been experimenting with his housework style. He actually leaves the dishes for me to deal with. Huh?! I have been telling him for years that if he cleans up after the rest of us all the time, we'll never learn to do it ourselves. Socks in the living room? I've never seen any -- although I do vaguely recall leaving some there last night. Hmm. Oh well!
So he's leaving me a FULL sink of dirty dishes in the morning. He's calling my bluff, and now I have to empty and refill it every morning, keep it filled all day, cap it off after dinner, and run it at bedtime. Yay. I "own" the dishes. I still "own" getting groceries, putting them away, figuring out what to serve, and cooking the food. Ech. I feel like a housewife.
Oh. Wait. I am!
Monday, July 6, 2009
I'm holding out for a hero.
Has anyone else been following the new NBC show Merlin? Oh. I love it. It's clearly not created for my demographic group, but I love it.
Merlin is 20 years old, as is Arthur. Arthur's father is rigid, regal, and ruthlessly practical. He has also outlawed magic, which is a problem for the naturally-magically-gifted Merlin who has just arrived in Camelot. Much to their mutual chagrin, Arthur and Merlin are intertwined by Fate. It is Arthur's fate to rule and defend Camelot, just as it is Merlin's fate to protect and defend Arthur. Merlin enters the scene at a critical point in Arthur's life, as he is just beginning to pull away from his father's heavy-handed rule and establish himself as the heir to the throne of Camelot. Mmmmm. Arthur is brave, strong, and just coming into his own power -- a hero for the future. Merlin is just learning to control his magic and contain his impulses and exuberance -- a sage for the future.
And why does this show appeal to me? Well, I love anything medieval. (Yes, I know that Arthur is pre-medieval.) I love the legends of Morganna, the witch, the Lady of the Lake. And I love hunky men with British accents. But most of all, these men are Heroes. They are able, brave, strong, eternally devoted to their cause, and eternally young. The world is their oyster, but they already sense the responsibility and weight of the task that will consume their lives -- the care and defense of the people and lands of Camelot.
Why does this appeal to me? Yes, at 46 years old, I'm still holding out for a hero. With a nod to Bonnie Tyler:
Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream
of what I need
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life
I woke up this morning with a startling revelation. In the words of LarryBoy, "I am that hero."
Bummer.
Merlin is 20 years old, as is Arthur. Arthur's father is rigid, regal, and ruthlessly practical. He has also outlawed magic, which is a problem for the naturally-magically-gifted Merlin who has just arrived in Camelot. Much to their mutual chagrin, Arthur and Merlin are intertwined by Fate. It is Arthur's fate to rule and defend Camelot, just as it is Merlin's fate to protect and defend Arthur. Merlin enters the scene at a critical point in Arthur's life, as he is just beginning to pull away from his father's heavy-handed rule and establish himself as the heir to the throne of Camelot. Mmmmm. Arthur is brave, strong, and just coming into his own power -- a hero for the future. Merlin is just learning to control his magic and contain his impulses and exuberance -- a sage for the future.
And why does this show appeal to me? Well, I love anything medieval. (Yes, I know that Arthur is pre-medieval.) I love the legends of Morganna, the witch, the Lady of the Lake. And I love hunky men with British accents. But most of all, these men are Heroes. They are able, brave, strong, eternally devoted to their cause, and eternally young. The world is their oyster, but they already sense the responsibility and weight of the task that will consume their lives -- the care and defense of the people and lands of Camelot.
Why does this appeal to me? Yes, at 46 years old, I'm still holding out for a hero. With a nod to Bonnie Tyler:
Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream
of what I need
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life
I woke up this morning with a startling revelation. In the words of LarryBoy, "I am that hero."
Bummer.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Celebration!
Our 4th of July celebrations went freakishly well. It was actually a little scary.
The Husband had gone to the NASCAR race with his brother, so the kids and I were on our own. I let them get muddy in the sprinkler and I was feeling lonely, so we didn't get around to dinner until late. We decided to go to out for pizza on a whim, so it was shower, dress, run to Pizza Hut.
We've never been there, so there were no immovable rituals that could be violated. I brought markers and ordered before we even sat down. Dinner went REALLY well. The Girl didn't even eviscerate her pizza before eating it.
When The Boy found out I wasn't planning to go to the fireworks, he was so bummed that I actually gave in. At 7:30, I drove my purse-on-wheels to the YMCA parking lot and snagged the last parking place in the last row. I covered us all in bug spray, picked up three beach chairs, and we started walking. The Girl initially complained, but we set ourselves down near the lake and waited.
Fifteen minutes later, DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF US, the fireworks started. They were awesome! Both kids had a great time! We walked back to the car, sat in traffic for 15 minutes, and made it home pretty quickly.
The Boy asked for sparklers, so we took them outside to play with for a while. In keeping with time-honored 4th of July traditions, The Girl burned her hand on one. (Hey, someone had to!) We went inside, made all the beds, wiped most of the bug spray off of them, put them in pajamas, and bam! They slept.
They made up for all that good behavior in church this morning, but for 12 blissful hours, I was the best mom on the planet. Mmm.
The Husband had gone to the NASCAR race with his brother, so the kids and I were on our own. I let them get muddy in the sprinkler and I was feeling lonely, so we didn't get around to dinner until late. We decided to go to out for pizza on a whim, so it was shower, dress, run to Pizza Hut.
We've never been there, so there were no immovable rituals that could be violated. I brought markers and ordered before we even sat down. Dinner went REALLY well. The Girl didn't even eviscerate her pizza before eating it.
When The Boy found out I wasn't planning to go to the fireworks, he was so bummed that I actually gave in. At 7:30, I drove my purse-on-wheels to the YMCA parking lot and snagged the last parking place in the last row. I covered us all in bug spray, picked up three beach chairs, and we started walking. The Girl initially complained, but we set ourselves down near the lake and waited.
Fifteen minutes later, DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF US, the fireworks started. They were awesome! Both kids had a great time! We walked back to the car, sat in traffic for 15 minutes, and made it home pretty quickly.
The Boy asked for sparklers, so we took them outside to play with for a while. In keeping with time-honored 4th of July traditions, The Girl burned her hand on one. (Hey, someone had to!) We went inside, made all the beds, wiped most of the bug spray off of them, put them in pajamas, and bam! They slept.
They made up for all that good behavior in church this morning, but for 12 blissful hours, I was the best mom on the planet. Mmm.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Ooh! A new bumpersticker!
I just ordered my new, improved bumpersticker!!
My kids are CAGE FREE.
I homeschool.
My cage free children do prefer having a coop to huddle in occasionally. We started summer school last week. It's only about an hour and a half a day, but it's just a relief to have something scheduled to do. Even The Boy can only take so many hours of game boy per day.
The idea for the bumper sticker came from the last time we went to "Education Day" at the ball park. The public schools were marched in and packed on their roosts, I mean rows, and given their ration, I mean ball-park lunches. Our kids came in a little late, nestled themselves on the rafters, I mean top seat of the ball park, and went for water and snacks at will -- free range children.
I have to admit -- "free range" children are probably unschooled. Mine are simply cage free.
My kids are CAGE FREE.
I homeschool.
My cage free children do prefer having a coop to huddle in occasionally. We started summer school last week. It's only about an hour and a half a day, but it's just a relief to have something scheduled to do. Even The Boy can only take so many hours of game boy per day.
The idea for the bumper sticker came from the last time we went to "Education Day" at the ball park. The public schools were marched in and packed on their roosts, I mean rows, and given their ration, I mean ball-park lunches. Our kids came in a little late, nestled themselves on the rafters, I mean top seat of the ball park, and went for water and snacks at will -- free range children.
I have to admit -- "free range" children are probably unschooled. Mine are simply cage free.
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