Where I come to my senses

I have come to my senses and realized that no one (besides me) wants to see me in a costume this Halloween. I know, I know, this is not a revelation to anyone besides me, but there you have it. No queen-sized sheet toga, no Statue of Liberty crown, no clown shoes. In short, no fun. Yes, there you have it.

screaming, and all it implies

Why are my kids so darned contrary?

I have one that doesn't understand "turn the tv off now". Doesn't matter how soft or loud the command is; I get nothing, nada. I know she's autistic, but it makes me scream, and she doesn't care. I swear, Tuesday is trash day, and the guys haven't been by yet. I could still get those tv's to the curb in time. It's school time; turn the goddam thing off and leave it off. We ask before we turn it on, not after.

The other raised my hopes this morning by getting me to a web site with hieroglyphs, only to dash them by squirreling around and using it only to translate "llllllllllll" so it'll show 10 lions in a row. At least he didn't pee himself laughing this time.

Yesterday, he spent an hour reading to me while I dusted the house. Today he makes me want to scream. What's with that?

Halloween, in my middle ages: take two

Oy. You should probably read the end of my previous post before you even try to understand this one. No. Really, do it. You'll be glad you did...

Okay here it is. I just googled around for costumes and found that the best selection of costumes for middle-aged, slightly-overweight women are listed under "plus size costumes". AAAAAAAHHH!

Sadly, these are the regular costumes, only they cover our hips.

http://www.anytimecostumes.com/costumes/pssexy.html

I think I'm going to wear a toga. (At least I learned something useful in college.)

Halloween, in my middle ages

Well, The Girl only made it an hour into the Halloween party before begging to go home. I guess that's her showing initiative, which is good, right? (Okay, it's a reach, but I'll take my victories where I can get them.)

I should explain my "SCA garb" costume. I've never actually attended an SCA event, but I have a secret love for Renaissance fairs. I was into fencing in college, so I ran into a lot of the fun people that dressed on weekends, but I wasn't into it.

Anyway, I've always loved dressing up for Halloween. In high school, I once dressed as celery. (Obviously, I was thinner then.) In my 20's, I dressed as Tinker Bell.

Well, last year, I thought it would be fun to make a wench costume, just for fun, to wear for Halloween. One thing led to another, and I ended up researching and producing a hand-made, authentic Tudor commoner's dress, complete with chemise, corset, petticoat, and kirtle. I actually cut dozens of pieces of steel-spring boning into specific lengths and threaded them them into a corset. Don't even ask about making patterns. Still, I like to sew, and have a thing for all things Elizabethan, as long as I still have flush toilets.

But this year, I just found the costume heavy and uncomfortable, so I got to thinking, "What would be a good costume for a slightly overweight, middle aged mom?" And I'm still asking myself. I've eliminated many of my old favorites, based on my lack of waistline and age. I'm left with "aging hippie" and, what, "hag"? Oh Lord, help me... Does anyone have ideas?

Umm... Halloween party tonight

Y'know, I keep thinking of a nice, funny blog topic, but everytime I get near the computer, my mind goes blank.

Let's see... I have toads in the house. Cute little grey and black ones with sticky pads on their feet. My mom lets them in every time she comes through the front door, sometimes two at a time. I have two hiding in the fabric piles in the sewing room/office/workout room. Guess I should get to that soon before they expire in something drycleanable.

Tonight is Parents' Night Out at the church, and this time it's a Halloween party, complete with an outdoor scavenger hunt. Yeah, you heard right -- one autistic girl, wandering around in the dark, general chaos. Hmm. Maybe, umm, NOT! So, since The Husband is sick with yet another cold, it's going to be Parent's Night Out. Only this parent has to dress up in her SCA garb and go to a kids' Halloween party. (My favorite part? Besides the corset? Having to wash the dress again after the kids spill catsup on it. Yayyyy.) But I was just guilting myself over the fact that The Girl never has any fun. So pony up, mom!

The Girl, of course, wants to be a fairy princess. (What's new?) They sprung this party on me suddenly, so she basically has a choice of last year's costume (the hand-made, golden princess gown) or the year before last (the cheap, blue and pink barbie princess dress). She chose the blue and pink dress. Can't blame her -- the gold one is lovely, but the cheap one has netting and glitter. The good news is that it was way too big for her two years ago, and it fits now.

The Boy chose Darth Vader. Fortunately, since he's a boy, he doesn't care how it looks from behind. This means that the el-cheapo mask is just fine. Oh, and add in the "Vader heavy breathing" noise maker, and we're good to go. And I just put new batteries in it this morning.

So, that's one more holiday dealt with. I feel Christmas looming ahead of me already. No money. No toddlers that want Play-Doh and cheap plastic toys. Oh no. We're up to the Digital Age. Pray for me...

vomit, pee and a quiet weekend away.

Well, I survived the long weekend at Auntie's house in the hills. The leaves were beautiful. My brother was incredibly politically incorrect. ("All those retired Jews in Florida are really socialists. Seriously." Heh? We finally told him to shut up while he was ahead.) Auntie and her husand were gracious hosts and have a kazillion channels on the TV. Auntie's son and husband took my meek, little suburban son out and taught him what to do (and not do) with a gun. Wish I had pictures of The Boy shooting a BB gun. He had HUGE soundproof earmuffs on. LOL!


Anyway, we arrived near dusk on Wednesday night, with me feeling like Charles Lindberg. I swear, I was driving down the highway with cruise control on, thinking, "That's weird. I feel like I'm still driving. Oh wait. I am." Both kids refused to go in the house, and The Girl started screaming, "I want to go HOOOOOOME!" The Boy was just afraid of the dogs. Oy vey. We finally got them indoors, and The Boy started crying about the antiques hung on the wall of our room. (Remember? The Boy has a phobia about old things?) The Girl continued asking to go home, and we finally collapsed in bed without anyone getting eaten by dogs.

(I kept insisting that if the dog wanted to eat anyone, it would be The Boy's little cousin who is much smaller and meatier than he is. I think it finally worked. By the end of the weekend, he was sharing the recliner with the dog.)

Thursday, things went better. We all went on a pontoon boat ride to see the leaves, and only my brother complained about my bad driving on the mountain roads. There are no curvy roads OR hills where I live -- give me a break! The Boy got used to the antiques, and spent a couple of hours alternatively running up and down the hill and dancing in his room with his little cousin. The girl spent as much time as she could get away with in the car, apparently hoping to go home.


My brother left for home early Friday, so the rest of us just hung out until evening, when we left for the Chinese buffet. Halfway down the driveway, I stopped to dry out my car seat that someone poured water in. At the bottom of the driveway, I stopped to tend to a bloody nose, and then the fuel light went on. The Girl wept through dinner, and didn't eat, and we couldn't figure out why. After a stop at Wal-Mart to get granola bars and ammo, we visited four gas stations, looking for gas. (Do I love our GPS? Yes, I do! "Find me gas." "Yes, mistress!") I did find some, and we were headed home, when I thought, "Hey, why not call The Husband?" I had no sooner gotten him on the phone, when The Girl started barfing. And I do mean serious barfing. I hung up the phone, cleaned up the mess in a pelting rain storm, and headed back to Auntie's. The Boy's little voice in the back seat piped up, "Are we having bad luck?" Um. Yeah. Good call.

Saturday was pretty quiet, if you don't count Auntie's husband shooting a Kalishnakof at soda cans. Too much fun!

We left for home Sunday morning. Can you believe I loaded all those suitcases, put them in the hall, and they just STAYED THERE? Oh wait. It's The Husband's job to load the car. ;) I found a lot of those little husband tasks on the trip. Like, apparently, he's in charge of checking the gas gague.

Anyway, all went well until we got within 20 miles of home. Let's just say that it is possible for a boy to barf and pee along the side of the highway at the same time. Meanwhile, The Girl started screaming, "I have to go to the bathroom!" Oy vey. A stop at Wendy's, a change of clothes, and a small lemonade later, and we were on our way.

We're home now, and so grateful that we're having a holiday to celebrate. Yayyyy!!!

A frustrating day and The Big Escape. (Oh, and a little politics!)

Ever have one of those homeschooling days where the kid just sits in front of his handwriting and spelling list and stares at them -- for what feels like hours?! Now, I'm usually one of those "logical consequence" disciplinarians. "If you don't do your handwriting and spelling, you can't get to your journal, math, or reading. Then we all have to do science and history. And until you finish it all, there's no TV or computer. Any time you're ready. Your choice."

This, of course, implies that I can stand ignoring him for that long. Part of the problem is that he disrupts our science and history, which the three of us do together. And do I feed lunch him if he doesn't finish his math? And is it legal to just whack him over the head? 'Cause I think that might work best. I resorted to the yelling method of discipline today, which I'm sure isn't endorsed by the NEA. *sigh*

Well, we're packing up to go to Auntie's house in the mountains on Wednesday. The kids now have enough long pants, and I've mostly finished making their fleece jackets. (Gotta get on that.) I don't have anything washed or packed, and I have food co-op meeting tomorrow night. Scary. Every time I go on vacation or to a cocktail party, I always reach the "no wanna go" stage. I think I'm almost there by now. No wanna go!

But Auntie's husband has been griping for years that we never come to visit them, so now that they're within a day's drive, I have to go. The kids have never seen leaves change (not that they remember anyway), and we've finished our tree and leaf unit, so it's now or never. I'm just not sure I'm crazy enough to do this. I mean REALLY. What was I thinking when I agreed to this?!

And Uncle may be there. Eew. My pedantic, conservative, republican brother. The one who called me "an America hater" on the phone last week for being a democrat. I was floored. I have personally never hung up on someone -- until last week. I always assumed that 99% of republicans are nice reasonable people, but apparently not. That, or my brother is on the fringe. I don't think he's going to those McCain rallies where people scream "kill Obama," but maybe. I can't tell you how sad I am that John McCain's campaign has come to this. And then the crowd boos him when he asks them to be more respectful.

A year ago, I really thought that John McCain was an honorable man whom, if his economic policies were more liberal, I could actually vote for. He's lost all that in the last month or two. He traded his soul for a chance to become president, and it may not have been a good trade. It's really sad. ("No, no, don't hold back; tell us what you really think!" LOL!)