When I was a teenager I used to babysit once in a while for people in the neighborhood. I am ashamed to admit that I was not a good babysitter. I had lots of little brothers at home that I babysat on a regular basis, so I certainly wasn't doing it out of the goodness of my heart. I did it for the money and the fact that the food at other peoples' houses was usually a lot more interesting that what we had at my house.
My mom wasn't big on cooking, at least by the time I was a teenager. I think she was tired of pretty much everything by the time I was a teen. I do remember her making Spanish Rice once in a while when my older brother would complain loudly enough and she would usually do a roast on Sunday. I can't for the life of me remember eating much of anything else. Our house was one of those houses where you would eat a lot of leftovers, but you didn't remember actually eating the meal the first time.
Anyway, one night I was babysitting for a family in the neighborhood. This family usually had bags of Pepperidge Farm cookies in the freezer. The fact that I even remember that all these years later must say something about me. (And it's probably not a very good something, is it?) This particular night they also had a nice, big family-sized bag of licorice. Black and red. The mom said the kids and I could have some.
Now I was just at the point in my life where I was learning to appreciate black licorice, so this was intriguing to me. I put the kids to bed as early as I could and then proceeded to eat the whole bag. By myself. Black AND red.
Well, I paid dearly for that because I was up all night, that night, throwing up.
Black and red.
And I haven't touched the stuff since.
Especially black licorice. Even the smell of it can send me over the edge. Hal is a big fan of licorice, so I try to always have some on hand for him but I don't buy the black stuff. Once in a while he comes home with it, but he has to eat it far away from me.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Nice, huh?
When Morgan was little she had a problem with picking her nose. Actually, I think all my kids have had that problem. I think it's genetic. They got it from their Uncle Brett, who, hopefully doesn't read this blog.
Anyway, one day when she was little I was trying to come up with yet another reason why she shouldn't pick her nose. I figured if I kept coming up with reasons that eventually something I said might click in her brain.
So one day I told her that if she kept picking her nose it would stretch out her nostrils and they would get all big and ugly.
She looked at me with big eyes and said, "Is that how YOUR nose got so big?"
Anyway, one day when she was little I was trying to come up with yet another reason why she shouldn't pick her nose. I figured if I kept coming up with reasons that eventually something I said might click in her brain.
So one day I told her that if she kept picking her nose it would stretch out her nostrils and they would get all big and ugly.
She looked at me with big eyes and said, "Is that how YOUR nose got so big?"
Not Sure How to Title This One
When the girls were little they would always wake up before I would. I'm not sure if it was because I worked swing shift, or I was just so exhausted from taking care of them. My kids tend to be quite lively and high-maintenance.
Anyway, one morning when Ally was about 2 years old, she woke me up. I told her I wanted to stay in bed for just a little longer.
After a minute, I started thinking it seemed awfully quiet. I asked her to go see what Morgan was doing, mostly to buy myself a little more time.
Ally walked over to the couch in my bedroom, where Morgan was sitting quietly and reported, "Morgan is picking the nose."
I looked over and, sure enough, Ally was right.
That is the longest sentence I had ever heard Ally say at that age.
Anyway, one morning when Ally was about 2 years old, she woke me up. I told her I wanted to stay in bed for just a little longer.
After a minute, I started thinking it seemed awfully quiet. I asked her to go see what Morgan was doing, mostly to buy myself a little more time.
Ally walked over to the couch in my bedroom, where Morgan was sitting quietly and reported, "Morgan is picking the nose."
I looked over and, sure enough, Ally was right.
That is the longest sentence I had ever heard Ally say at that age.
Guilty Conscience?
The other day we came home from somewhere. Ally told me that someone had been mean to Austin and that he was sad about it.
I went into the bathroom, where he was, to ask him if everything was okay, or if there was something he wanted to tell me.
He looked puzzled for a minute and then he said, "I didn't steal anything."
I went into the bathroom, where he was, to ask him if everything was okay, or if there was something he wanted to tell me.
He looked puzzled for a minute and then he said, "I didn't steal anything."
A Loose Tooth Story
When Morgan was little she didn't like to have her loose teeth pulled out, either by herself or anyone else.
She would just leave them in her mouth, even once they were just barely hanging by a thread. She even had one turn dark, it was hanging there so long. I was afraid she was going to swallow it accidently.
One day when she was about seven and Ally was about four, they were playing behind the couch under a blanket. Of course, you know what usually happens when kids are playing and there is a blanket involved, someone usually ends up crying.
That day it was Morgan, and she came out from behind the couch with blood streaming from her mouth. Ally had accidently kicked her in the head.
Once I got Morgan cleaned up, we realized that her loose tooth had fallen out. She was pretty upset, so I tried to cheer her up by telling her the Tooth Fairy would come to visit that night and bring her a dollar.
Ally, always interested in money - even from a young age, suddenly started paying attention. She popped up from behind the couch and I could see the wheels turning in her head.
All of a sudden she said, "Hey Morgan, come back here and you can kick ME in the head!"
If only it were that simple.
She would just leave them in her mouth, even once they were just barely hanging by a thread. She even had one turn dark, it was hanging there so long. I was afraid she was going to swallow it accidently.
One day when she was about seven and Ally was about four, they were playing behind the couch under a blanket. Of course, you know what usually happens when kids are playing and there is a blanket involved, someone usually ends up crying.
That day it was Morgan, and she came out from behind the couch with blood streaming from her mouth. Ally had accidently kicked her in the head.
Once I got Morgan cleaned up, we realized that her loose tooth had fallen out. She was pretty upset, so I tried to cheer her up by telling her the Tooth Fairy would come to visit that night and bring her a dollar.
Ally, always interested in money - even from a young age, suddenly started paying attention. She popped up from behind the couch and I could see the wheels turning in her head.
All of a sudden she said, "Hey Morgan, come back here and you can kick ME in the head!"
If only it were that simple.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Obama, The Amazing
My dad came over to visit last night. He had just returned home from Korea on National Pork Producers business.
He started telling us about his new baby donkey, Obama. (Now before anyone gets offended, remember that a donkey is the symbol of the Democratic party. This donkey is also black and very cute.)
Dad said, "He is really cute and does crazy things. He runs around and jumps and does all sorts of crazy things."
Austin said, "Hey Grandpa, does he juggle?"
He started telling us about his new baby donkey, Obama. (Now before anyone gets offended, remember that a donkey is the symbol of the Democratic party. This donkey is also black and very cute.)
Dad said, "He is really cute and does crazy things. He runs around and jumps and does all sorts of crazy things."
Austin said, "Hey Grandpa, does he juggle?"
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Unnecessary (Twilight) Interruptions (Warning: Long, Rambling Rant Ahead.)
I've been trying to think how to broach this subject for a while now without sounding mean. I don't know if it can be done delicately, but I really must get something off my chest.
My mom is obsessed with Twilight.
And it's ruining my life.
Now before you start to think that I'm being overly dramatic, just hear me out.
It wasn't when she read the books, or even when she knew they were going to make a movie about them, I think it all started when she saw on Entertainment Tonight who was going to be in the movie. My mom immediately called me up to have me look up who Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart are.
Now my mom doesn't have Internet, or even a computer for that matter. I've been trying to talk her into buying one for herself for months. She has the money, she just doesn't want to deal with learning how to use a computer yet. (And why should she when she has a perfectly good, computer literate daughter that is just a phone call away?)
Once she realized that Robert Pattinson was in some of the Harry Potter movies, she started watching them all over again, wanting to see who was going to be Edward, the vampire.
Then one day she asked me if I knew anything else Robert Pattinson had been in. I made the mistake of telling her I could look him up on the Internet to find out a little more about him. So then she started calling me, having me look up other things.
This would have been fine, if kept to a minimum. Unfortunately, it was like having another kid around. One who called a lot and asked a lot of questions.
Where do you think Robert Pattinson was born?
Has he been in anything else besides Harry Potter?
Has Kristen Stewart been in other movies?
Then her interest started to move into obsession. My mom bought every pre-Twilight book that was printed. And somewhere along the way, she discovered Amazon.com. Again, since she doesn't own a computer, guess who she called every time she wanted to buy a book.
Things finally calmed down for a while about the time the movie actually came out. It turned out to be the calm before the storm. (Yes, she did drag me to the movie one of the 15 plus times she has seen it on the big screen. I thought it was all right, not my favorite though.)
Once my mom saw the actual movie things got way worse. Everything was "Robert Pattinson" this and "Robert Pattinson" that. She started buying more books about Robert Pattinson and magazines with him on the cover. Every conversation was about "Robert" or "Edward", as she sometimes called him.
How do you tell your mom that she is a raving lunatic without being disrespectful?
One day she had me on the computer on Amazon.com looking up each and every book about Robert Pattinson. I went through the extensive list and had to read each and every title out loud over the phone. We (she)ordered over $100 worth of books about Robert Pattinson. I came to one book and said "This one just looks like a stupid little teenager book." She said to tell her the title anyway. I read it and she said, "Oh, I already have that one."
Someone please help me!
Can I just say here that I have no desire to read any of the Twilight books. First of all, I'm not into vampires, or any other mythological creatures for that matter. Even the Harry Potter series is pushing it for me. At this point if I were to read the Twilight books I'd have to discuss them all with my mom at great length. And, honestly, I really don't have time for that.
I'm too busy ordering other Twilight-related paraphanelia for my mom on Amazon.com.
She actually ended up ordering not one, but two special edition, double DVD Twilight movies. I told her I hoped she didn't think one was for me, because I was certainly not going to buy it. I buy all our DVDs used at Hollywood video for $5.99, even ones that I really want. She was sure someone else would want one so she went ahead and ordered both.
My mom went to all the midnight release parties for the movie, even though she had it ordered already (twice). She called me the next day and said, "Guess what! At Wal-Mart they drew numbers and they picked mine, so I was able to buy the special edition movie for only $17.99." I gently reminded her that she already HAD two other movies for the same price coming from Amazon that day. I started to panic because I didn't want to get stuck with one. She assured me that one of her friends would buy one and that she would keep the other to loan out to her friends.
Who does that?
If her friends liked the movie so much, they would buy their own, wouldn't they?
Well, things have calmed down somewhat, though my mom continues to buy any magazine that has Robert Pattinson on the cover, mostly teenage magazines. I have kind of enjoyed that part because she gives me the posters inside them, thinking my girls will be interested in the Miley Cyrus or Jonas Brothers posters. I use them to terrorize Morgan and Ally by taping the posters to their doors while they are sleeping. (They are not interested in Miley or the Jo Bros. Ally is a little past that point and Morgan was never interested.)
I went to my mom's house the other day and she had actually bought a G.Q. magazine because Robert was on the cover. I try not to give too much attention to things like that, because if I act at all interested then she takes it as an invitation to talk on and on about Robert and how wonderful she thinks he is. She talks about "Edward" and then when I act confused, she says "That's what I like to call him.", as if they are on a first name basis.
I need to know, should I call an intervention for this type of behavior?
My mom was on a new kind of kick today. She could buy magazines with leftover frequent flier miles so she called to ask for my help. Some of the titles were unfamiliar so she wanted me to look them up on the Internet to see if any of them were the type of magazine that would have "Robert" on the cover. I got as far as looking up New York Magazine when my Internet locked up. It was so bad that I told her I would need to shut the computer all the way down and pull it back up and it would take at least 20 minutes. I was also in the middle of the orange crayon incident, so I asked her to call me back in a couple of hours, after I had scrubbed all of the crayon out of the clothes.
Exactly one hour and 59 minutes later she called. I was still working on Hal's church shirt so I asked her to call back in 45 minutes. Exactly 45 minutes later she called. I swear she must have set a timer!
I put the clothes on hold and looked again at the magazines for her. My mother is nothing, if not persistent.
Oh yes, last week Morgan and I took my mom to the play, Wicked. While we walked to the theater from our hotel, my mom started telling Morgan about how "Robert" is afraid someone will stab him with a hypodermic needle and kidnap him (or something like that). When Morgan had the audacity to ask her grandma who Robert was, my mom snapped "Robert Pattinson." as if Morgan was a silly little fool who should have known.
I did buy my mom a box of "Twilight" candy hearts (leftover from Valentine's Day) for May Day. When Morgan and I presented them to her she said she was glad we'd bought the ones with Robert on the front because she already had the ones with Kristen. She told Morgan she bought Kristen because she already had so many things with Robert on them.
Does anyone else have a mom with similar qualities that we could put into contact with my mom? They could keep each other company talking about Twilight trivia.
Today I started thinking of all the time I've wasted hearing trivial facts
I've wasted a lot of time, but I have learned a lot of interesting, though useless information.
Like when is Robert Pattinson's birthday? (It's May 13. Yesterday. Do you know how I know? She told me yesterday at Austin's preschool graduation. Twice. Loudly. And once more at my house because I didn't respond at the preschool graduation.)
That woman has got to get herself a computer!
Oh, and p.s., Robert Pattinson smells like roses too, in case you wanted to know. My mom read it somewhere, so it must be true!
My mom is obsessed with Twilight.
And it's ruining my life.
Now before you start to think that I'm being overly dramatic, just hear me out.
It wasn't when she read the books, or even when she knew they were going to make a movie about them, I think it all started when she saw on Entertainment Tonight who was going to be in the movie. My mom immediately called me up to have me look up who Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart are.
Now my mom doesn't have Internet, or even a computer for that matter. I've been trying to talk her into buying one for herself for months. She has the money, she just doesn't want to deal with learning how to use a computer yet. (And why should she when she has a perfectly good, computer literate daughter that is just a phone call away?)
Once she realized that Robert Pattinson was in some of the Harry Potter movies, she started watching them all over again, wanting to see who was going to be Edward, the vampire.
Then one day she asked me if I knew anything else Robert Pattinson had been in. I made the mistake of telling her I could look him up on the Internet to find out a little more about him. So then she started calling me, having me look up other things.
This would have been fine, if kept to a minimum. Unfortunately, it was like having another kid around. One who called a lot and asked a lot of questions.
Where do you think Robert Pattinson was born?
Has he been in anything else besides Harry Potter?
Has Kristen Stewart been in other movies?
Then her interest started to move into obsession. My mom bought every pre-Twilight book that was printed. And somewhere along the way, she discovered Amazon.com. Again, since she doesn't own a computer, guess who she called every time she wanted to buy a book.
Things finally calmed down for a while about the time the movie actually came out. It turned out to be the calm before the storm. (Yes, she did drag me to the movie one of the 15 plus times she has seen it on the big screen. I thought it was all right, not my favorite though.)
Once my mom saw the actual movie things got way worse. Everything was "Robert Pattinson" this and "Robert Pattinson" that. She started buying more books about Robert Pattinson and magazines with him on the cover. Every conversation was about "Robert" or "Edward", as she sometimes called him.
How do you tell your mom that she is a raving lunatic without being disrespectful?
One day she had me on the computer on Amazon.com looking up each and every book about Robert Pattinson. I went through the extensive list and had to read each and every title out loud over the phone. We (she)ordered over $100 worth of books about Robert Pattinson. I came to one book and said "This one just looks like a stupid little teenager book." She said to tell her the title anyway. I read it and she said, "Oh, I already have that one."
Someone please help me!
Can I just say here that I have no desire to read any of the Twilight books. First of all, I'm not into vampires, or any other mythological creatures for that matter. Even the Harry Potter series is pushing it for me. At this point if I were to read the Twilight books I'd have to discuss them all with my mom at great length. And, honestly, I really don't have time for that.
I'm too busy ordering other Twilight-related paraphanelia for my mom on Amazon.com.
She actually ended up ordering not one, but two special edition, double DVD Twilight movies. I told her I hoped she didn't think one was for me, because I was certainly not going to buy it. I buy all our DVDs used at Hollywood video for $5.99, even ones that I really want. She was sure someone else would want one so she went ahead and ordered both.
My mom went to all the midnight release parties for the movie, even though she had it ordered already (twice). She called me the next day and said, "Guess what! At Wal-Mart they drew numbers and they picked mine, so I was able to buy the special edition movie for only $17.99." I gently reminded her that she already HAD two other movies for the same price coming from Amazon that day. I started to panic because I didn't want to get stuck with one. She assured me that one of her friends would buy one and that she would keep the other to loan out to her friends.
Who does that?
If her friends liked the movie so much, they would buy their own, wouldn't they?
Well, things have calmed down somewhat, though my mom continues to buy any magazine that has Robert Pattinson on the cover, mostly teenage magazines. I have kind of enjoyed that part because she gives me the posters inside them, thinking my girls will be interested in the Miley Cyrus or Jonas Brothers posters. I use them to terrorize Morgan and Ally by taping the posters to their doors while they are sleeping. (They are not interested in Miley or the Jo Bros. Ally is a little past that point and Morgan was never interested.)
I went to my mom's house the other day and she had actually bought a G.Q. magazine because Robert was on the cover. I try not to give too much attention to things like that, because if I act at all interested then she takes it as an invitation to talk on and on about Robert and how wonderful she thinks he is. She talks about "Edward" and then when I act confused, she says "That's what I like to call him.", as if they are on a first name basis.
I need to know, should I call an intervention for this type of behavior?
My mom was on a new kind of kick today. She could buy magazines with leftover frequent flier miles so she called to ask for my help. Some of the titles were unfamiliar so she wanted me to look them up on the Internet to see if any of them were the type of magazine that would have "Robert" on the cover. I got as far as looking up New York Magazine when my Internet locked up. It was so bad that I told her I would need to shut the computer all the way down and pull it back up and it would take at least 20 minutes. I was also in the middle of the orange crayon incident, so I asked her to call me back in a couple of hours, after I had scrubbed all of the crayon out of the clothes.
Exactly one hour and 59 minutes later she called. I was still working on Hal's church shirt so I asked her to call back in 45 minutes. Exactly 45 minutes later she called. I swear she must have set a timer!
I put the clothes on hold and looked again at the magazines for her. My mother is nothing, if not persistent.
Oh yes, last week Morgan and I took my mom to the play, Wicked. While we walked to the theater from our hotel, my mom started telling Morgan about how "Robert" is afraid someone will stab him with a hypodermic needle and kidnap him (or something like that). When Morgan had the audacity to ask her grandma who Robert was, my mom snapped "Robert Pattinson." as if Morgan was a silly little fool who should have known.
I did buy my mom a box of "Twilight" candy hearts (leftover from Valentine's Day) for May Day. When Morgan and I presented them to her she said she was glad we'd bought the ones with Robert on the front because she already had the ones with Kristen. She told Morgan she bought Kristen because she already had so many things with Robert on them.
Does anyone else have a mom with similar qualities that we could put into contact with my mom? They could keep each other company talking about Twilight trivia.
Today I started thinking of all the time I've wasted hearing trivial facts
I've wasted a lot of time, but I have learned a lot of interesting, though useless information.
Like when is Robert Pattinson's birthday? (It's May 13. Yesterday. Do you know how I know? She told me yesterday at Austin's preschool graduation. Twice. Loudly. And once more at my house because I didn't respond at the preschool graduation.)
That woman has got to get herself a computer!
Oh, and p.s., Robert Pattinson smells like roses too, in case you wanted to know. My mom read it somewhere, so it must be true!
Jackpot!
I just found a whole, fully wrapped sleeve of Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies in my underwear drawer.
I wonder how the kids missed them.
I wonder how the kids missed them.
Preschool Graduation and Another Annoying Mess
Last night Austin graduated from preschool. We are all so proud.
They had a cute little program, which was not too long, only about a half hour.
Each child had a little two line part and they sang lots of cute little songs. Since Austin is my third kid to go to this preschool, I pretty much have the whole program memorized by now. His teacher, Jean Hunter, said she was going to make a new program for parents like us, but I kind of like knowing what to expect. (And did I mention that it only lasts about a half hour? Why mess with a good thing?)
Aren't they cute little crayons?
Well, anyway, to celebrate this rite of passage, Austin did something he has been doing a lot lately. He stole a crayon. Or, to be more specific, an orange crayon.
It started one day when he came home from preschool with an orange crayon in his back pack. Orange is his favorite color and he usually drags along a toy or two in his backpack to preschool, so I didn't think anything of it until I realized it was a whole crayon, not one of the broken ones we use around here. And it still had the paper wrapper around it. Definitely not one of ours.
Upon further questioning, he confirmed that it was, indeed, one of the crayons from preschool. I told him to take it back, end of discussion. Until I found another one (or maybe still the same one) in his room later. This one I returned personally.
So now, the day after preschool graduation, I've done a load of white and light colored laundry. Guess what I found in the dryer, along with lots of ruined clothes? If you said a half melted orange crayon, you'd be right. (With the paper still halfway on it, so I knew where it had come from.)
Usually it's only Ally's pockets I've had to be really careful to check well. We've had more than one half eaten candy bar wreak havoc on the laundry. So far Austin's pockets have usually only held rocks, which are annoying, but not destructive.
So, I frantically searched the web for advice on how to handle this particular catastrophe. WD40. Darn, there was no WD40 to be found in the garage. I called Hal and asked him where it was. He said he'd run to one of his workplaces and get some. In the meantime I filled the tub with water, borax, detergent and the stained clothes, most of which were some of my favorite summer clothes, one of Hal's good church shirts, Austin's church pants and Ally's favorite school shirt. Then I checked the shed out back and found the WD40. I then checked the website again for the specific directions, only to find that WD40 is not so great to put in the dryer because it is flammable. (I know it probably wouldn't happen if you wash the clothes a few times, but with my luck....)
Anyway, I found another post that recommended De-Solv-It. I happened to have some of that from when Morgan was in preschool. She had fallen asleep one night with gum in her mouth that (of course) magically transferred itself into her hair. I sent her to school for two full days with the gum in her hair until I found a solution that I trusted would take out the gum without ruining her hair. (The things I do for these kids!)
So, anyway, after LOTS of scrubbing I've successfully gotten most of the orange crayon out of most of the clothes. Hal's white church shirt is the biggest casualty so far. I think it's because the weave is so tight and doesn't really have any "give". Also, it's hard to tell which side of the fabric the orange is on because when it's wet it looks the same on both sides. At least his shirt is replaceable.
I finally remembered to call Hal to tell him not to worry about the WD40 but he was already on his way home, which was a good thing because he was able to get the big fan down and run it in the bathroom for me so I didn't asphyxiate myself. De-Solv-It has very potent fumes. I had a killer headache after just a few minutes of using it and the open window just wasn't cutting it.
One great tip I learned on the Internet was how to get the melted crayon out of the dryer. Magic Eraser. It worked like a charm.
You know, while I was scrubbing I had a lot of time to think. My kids are pretty thorough when it comes to a lot of things. Unfortunately it is the wrong kinds of things. Thorough is good when it comes to cleaning your bedroom or editing a paper for mistakes. Not good when it comes to making messes, like ruining a whole batch of laundry. I need to work on this little problem that we have. I'll add it to the list of things I'm planning on teaching the kids this summer.
In the meantime, does anyone know where I can find a box with only orange crayons in it, so I can give them to Austin's teacher for a thank-you gift?
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Still Waiting for Tulips!
My tulips still aren't showing themselves very much. We've got a bit of a start in the front,
but still not much action on the side.
I do like this one little clump that has shown up in front of our front window.
I don't think the purple was supposed to be there but it bloomed proudly anyway.
A good lesson for us all. (I think.)
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