Friday, January 30, 2009

So its not easy being green


Took this picture yesterday at a stoplight.  I can't add anything, it speaks for itself.

So it turns out you already knew

I keep rolling the Ministry of Mediocrity thing around in my head.  I discussed it here and here in case you need a refresher.  I really thought I would do an occasionally recurring post where I revealed a mediocre thing about myself in order to help you, my never mediocre readers, feel great about yourselves.  So far that hasn't happened.

Turns out I've been scared.  I am afraid that if I start revealing my mediocrity, it will morph into revealing my meshugenah (By the way, that's Yiddish for crazy. I had to go with meshugenah for the alliteration factor).  I am worried that I will think I am sharing simple silly things when I am actually revealing crazy things that will cause those of you who love me and my kids to call the authorities.  I'm serious.

But, then I reread some posts to get some perspective.  Turns out you already know how crazy I am.  I don't really hold much back.  I have shared the meshugenah in large doses and so far I am not under observation at the county hospital and my kids are not in foster care. 

I am feeling particularly crazy tonight, but I can't seem to get a post out of it.  We had an ice storm Tuesday and Wednesday.  Our electricity has been hit or miss and I have not had a waking minute away from my kids since the 20th.  Today I gave Truck a hug and told him the kids were driving me crazy.  He said "its not a far trip".

So stick with me, I know it has not been a good blog week for me.  You were looking for the meshugenah and all I had was mediocre. 

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

So have I ever told you how much Worm likes his sandbox?



Worm really, really, really likes his sandbox. 

This afternoon I stuck my head out the back door in an attempt to take some pictures of the ice for Jo (because the beeyotch is in Hawaii where there is NOT currently an ice storm). Somehow, the worm managed to sneak past me.  He made a bee-line for his sandbox.  He did not care that it is currently an ice rink. 

Seriously, the sand is under a good three inches of solid ice.  

He was wearing a fleece sweat-suit and fuzzy socks and did not care that it was 18 degrees.  He was so furious with me for bringing him in that I finally had to run him a bath because the bathtub is the only thing he likes better than the sandbox.

Maybe he would like a dog crate?  I would give him toys and snacks.... sometimes.

So winter can kiss my...

Our power went out Tuesday around 2 p.m, right after I posted that I was pouting about the sucky winter weather.  It finally came back on around 10:30 this morning.  Power outages are still rampant all over the area.  

Luckily, I have a good friend in the neighborhood who has a hubby that does not travel for work (usually), is handy with tools, likes to cook on the grill in ice storms and thinks large scale power outages are a fun adventure.  In other words, he is the polar opposite of Truck.  Not that Truck wouldn't be useful in an ice storm, he just wouldn't be chipper about it.

The boys and I crashed at their house.  They already have three boys and a tight budget, but they didn't think twice about housing and feeding us.  I feel very lucky to have such good friends.

Anyway, I am all off schedule and out of sorts because of the stupid ice storm.  Maybe I will have mentally recovered by the time I get the kids in bed.  Check back tonight and maybe I will have found someone to mock or something embarrassing about myself to share. 

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

So my Tuesday sucks

Stupid winter weather.  Stupid city with bare minimum winter weather road crews. Stupid schools and their winter weather policies. Stupid winter weather.  Yes I said that twice.

I am not getting my Tuesday.  My mama reserves are not getting replenished today.

I will now proceed to pout about this.

Monday, January 26, 2009

So Huck learns to use the toaster oven - sort of

One of my lavish and many Christmas gifts was a toaster oven.  Okay, its not really lavish.  But it was one of many.  By the way, I did ask for it, just clarifying that practical gifts are always my idea, not Truck's. 

Anyway, Huck thinks its cool and has been asking me to teach him how to use it.  Sunday morning seemed like a good time for this.  I decided to teach him how to toast a bagel from start to finish. I didn't realize how many steps there were to toasting a bagel that he had never learned how to do. 

First, he had trouble spotting the bagels in the fridge (that must be a male thing, if it is not in your direct line of sight it is forever lost).  Then he struggled to remove the plastic tab holding the bagel sack closed.  Next there was the actual pulling the bagel apart into two slices without mangling it. I always buy "perforated" bagels due to an unfortunate bagel slicing incident I had at 15.  Finally we were ready to actually use the toaster oven.

Its a very well made toaster oven so the door is tough to open if you are feeling hesitant at all (the cheapies practically fall open). Its not hard to open if you set to it with purpose, but as a first timer he was feeling less than purposeful.  Once the door was open, the bagel placement was uneventful, as was the setting of the knob to toast.  However, the timer knob gave us pause.  
To set this knob for toasting, you must turn it past the 20 minute mark and then forward again to your desired toast darkness.  Huck didn't like this because it didn't make sense to him.  He wondered aloud why he couldn't just set it to medium dark and be done.  I have wondered this myself, so I could only offer a pathetic "because that's what the instruction book says".

Illogical settings aside, the bagel toasted beautifully.  It was now time for the real test: can he remove the toasted bagel from a very hot oven without incident or injury?  Also, can I let him do it with out freaking out or stepping in and taking over?

No.

With giant red oven mitts protecting his hands and wrists, Huck opened the toaster oven and began to reach in.  I immediately stopped him because his bare arm was dangerously close to the hot oven door.

With repositioned arms and giant red oven mitts protecting his hands and wrists, Huck again began to reach in.  I stopped him.  He was grabbing the tray instead of the bagels.  I foresaw a burning hot metal tray swinging out toward my own bare arms or being dropped on our scantily socked feet.

With a better understanding of what he was pulling out, repositioned arms and giant red oven mitts protecting his hands and wrists, Huck reached into the toaster oven for a third time. This time I actually yelled "Stop! Move!" And may or may not have given him a little shove.

Now before you go all you're a completely insane control freak on me, let me explain.  He was taking a very long time to grab the bagels (possibly due to the excessively gigantic oven mitts) and the oven mitts were starting to smoke a bit because he was touching the still hot element (again possibly because the mitts were excessively gigantic).  I had to step in before his hands caught fire.

I know that his hands were not actually going to burst into flame.  Now.  I know that now.  But my mama-vision saw HANDS ON FIRE and I reacted instinctually.

After that he gave up.  I buttered the bagel and poured the milk.  He ran around the kitchen wearing the oven mitts and yelling "I am Mitten Man, face the vengeance of my well-protected hands!"

Yup, just a regular ol' Sunday morning for Mitten Man and Overprotective Woman.

Friday, January 23, 2009

So Huck considered the Presidency

Last night, after I read "Change Has Come" with Huck, we had this conversation:

Huck - You know that day earlier this week?  The big one?
Mama - The Inauguration?
Huck - Yes.  Well after Miss J. showed us the in-awg-ra-shun on the internet, she read us a book about The White House.  Did you know that Barack Obama and his family get to live in The White House now and they get to redecorate The Oval Office to their own taste?
Mama - Yeah, I heard about that.
Huck - So now I can't decide if I want to be a civil engineer or The President when I grow up.
Mama - You want to be The President so you can live in The White House?
Huck - And redecorate The Oval Office to my taste.
Mama - (Holding back laughter at mental picture of The Oval Office redecorated to the taste of a six year old boy) Okay, do you know how you become The President?  Other than getting elected, I mean.
Huck - No, is it hard to do?
Mama - Sort of, yeah.



So I am dropping the Considering Huck Column

Coco pointed out to me that this blog would be special to my kids someday because it records the funny little things no one will remember in a few years.  I hadn't considered that, but she is right. Then I realized that the things I am putting in the Considering Huck column are not being saved because I just re-write it every few days.  So I am ending the column and putting Considering Huck into post form.  All the deeeeeeep thoughts will still be here, just not on the left any more.

So I'm not having a stroke

Today Worm and I went to visit Coco at work.  As most of you know, taking Worm anywhere requires lots of stuff.  So I have a diaper bag full of snacks, drinks, toys, clothes, and of course diapers.  I shove my cute little purse into the giant ugly bag, hoist Worm on my hip, and in we go. As soon as I open the doors and enter the lobby I hear this song.

I think to myself, WTF?  Violent Femmes? I LOVE this song.  Then I think, when did they install a sound system in the lobby.  THEN I think, why would one of the most respected and buttoned-up law firms in Northwest Arkansas be playing this song in the lobby?

Oh God!  I'm having auditory hallucinations.  My blood pressure has been elevated since the end of my pregnancy.  I eat too much sodium.  This is a TIA.  This is a stroke.

So I shift Cooper in my arms to get a better grip in case I am about to slump over and the song changes to this

Then it hits me.  I have my iPhone on my hip.  Cooper is sitting on my hip.  My phone has been bumped and is shuffling through my playlist.

Thank God!  I am not having a stroke.

Oh crap!  People are in the lobby waiting to see their respected & buttoned-up attorneys and they are now staring at me.  They did not look like fans of punk.  Too bad for them.  

Thursday, January 22, 2009

So I owe facebook an apology

Dear Facebook,

I cannot fully express the sincere regret I have for the terrible things I said about you in the past. I called you stupid and a waste of time.  I mocked you and those that used you.

I was wrong.  You rock!  

With your help, I am reconnecting with people I thought were gone from my life forever.  I sincerely appreciate you.

Humbly,
Jennifer Lake Seawright Collins

So Change has Come

Most people who know me, know that I am not particularly sentimental.  I don't usually cry at weddings (except I sobbed through mine, hmmmm) and I can appreciate a touching story without shedding tears.  So I was a bit taken aback by my reaction to a little children's book this morning.

While walking through Target I spied the book "Change Has Come" drawings by Kadir Nelson, words by Barack Obama.  It looked like a nice keepsake of the Obama presidency, the first new president in my boys' lives, so I tossed it in my cart.

Back home, after the purchases were stashed, the baby was fed, the dishes done and the floor swept, I sat down and looked at the book.  Wow!  I was not prepared for such a strong reaction.

It is a simple book.  The words are all taken from Obama's speeches and the drawings are scratchy pen and ink.  I think it was the simplicity that hooked me.  Too much pomp would have turned me off.

I found the drawings particularly touching.  Something about pen and ink was so right for this moment.  Some people don't like pen and ink because it is rough.  They dislike that it feels hurried or more like a draft than a completed work.  I like pen and ink for those exact reasons. It is like the artist wanted to get his impression down on paper before it floated away.  Pen and ink is real, no editing, no polishing.

I know the words that were used in this book were probably chosen carefully and with much debate, but I'm okay with that.  I have a pretty low tolerance for prose that try too hard.  These hit the right note for me.

As I read this book, I began to tear up and by the final page I was openly weeping.  I was so overwhelmed by the significance of Obama's presidency, that I wanted to rush right to Huck's school and share the book with him. 

I wanted to explain to him what it means for America to have a black president.  I wanted to tell him about our historical mistakes and triumphs. I wanted him to understand that the election of Barack Obama is a way for America to truly realize its potential.  I wanted to tell him that America is now The Land of Opportunity for everyone.  I wanted to tell him that change has come.

I will tell him all these things tonight after we read the book.  

I urge you to buy this book for the children in your life, no matter what your politics are. Change is good, embrace it.


Wednesday, January 21, 2009

So I'm sticking with the music theme, apparently

I don't usually like remakes of anything.  I like original movies, songs, snack foods.  Whatever it is, just leave it alone.  However, there is one remake I like.

Pretty much everyone under the age of 40 knows the song Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve. I like that song as much as the next guy, which must be quite a bit considering the amount of airplay it got in 1997.

Anyway, I found a remake of it by Ace Enders and a Million Different People.  I like his version so much better that I have gotten over how overplayed the original was.  I find it particularly cool that several different people sing on this song, but I didn't notice it at first.  

If you like this song, buy it on itunes and the proceeds will go to VH1 Save the Music, which is dedicated to restoring music programs to public schools.

So I made you a game of I Spy



Hello and welcome to I Spy, bathtub edition!  Today you will be looking for the following items:

The number five
A duck that's yellow
A funny little nekkid fellow
A whale
A book
A ball that's brown
Spongbob floating upside down
A rainbow fish
A metal cup
The winner gets to pick all this sh*t up!

Thanks for playing

So this one is for my mom

She used to sing this when I was little, alas, not with sock puppets.  Also, the band that played at my wedding did a great rendition, again not with sock puppets.  Sock puppetry is a lost art.

There are many clips of this song to choose from and they are quite diverse.  From cool harmonica or banjo instrumentals to scary rednecks doing a VERY racist version (seriously, does no one monitor youtube at all?).  I chose this one because it was family friendly and made me laugh.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

So here is one for Huck

This is for Huck.  We like this sort of music.

It is called "7-8-9" and is by Barenaked Ladies.

P.S. He also likes "That's Not My Name".

So any thoughts on the photo?

I already know Jo thinks its a keeper.  We facebook.  

Any other opinions? I am not sure about having my pic on the page like that.  Some bloggers meticulously hide & others are very against hiding.  I am somewhere in between.  

I know a lot of you read, but don't comment.  Apparently that is called lurking and other bloggers are VERY against that.  It seems to me that many bloggers are kind of looking for attention.  I'm just blowing off steam and inviting my friends & family over for a few blisters.  If you want to lurk that's okay with me, usually.

Anyway, this time I would like comments.  I chose that picture because the look on my face suits the blog's title.  I could do better, but I don't want to take 12 million pictures until I get a perfect one.  I do have children to care for.

If you can't figure out how to comment, how do you function at all?  Sorry?  Did I type that out loud?  What I meant to say was, send me an email.

So here is one for Jo

I don't want anything poignant for her.  I love her, she knows it.  Instead of sappy, she gets this.

"Fat bottomed girls, they'll be riding today.  So look out for those beauties, oh yeah." 
- Freddie Mercury

So I feel like I should have been a little more serious

I am dedicating a new song for Truck.  This one is appropriate and sweet and sappy and he won't hate it.  He quite possibly hates the other two.  I know I was all - It's my blog - but you have to sort of consider the other person's taste when you dedicate to them.

Its "Lucky" by Jason Mraz (featuring Colbie Caillat).

So I have to dedicate one for Truck (fox news confusion aside)

This one is for Truck.

Its not his taste in music and I know I say this all the time: My blog, don't care.

It is quirky and sweet, just like me, so I picked it.

The song is "I'm Sticking With You"  by The Velvet Underground

If you don't think this choice is appropriate, consider that my first thought was this one.

So I am going to dedicate some songs this week

This song always makes me think of my dad.  

For several years, he had a great lady in his life.  The romantic relationship ended, but he stayed in her life because she needed him.  He did a good thing and I am proud of that.  

In case you are wondering:  The song is called "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You"

Its not that I think he is pining.  Its just that when you have a relationship that profoundly changes your life, you just don't ever get over it.

So I gave a random man a funny story for when he gets to work

I really LOVE Tuesday.  Huck is in school, Worm is at Grandpa's, my cleaning ladies come to scrub the toilets and mop and all that other stuff I hate to do.  

After I drop Worm off at Grandpa's, the first thing I do is crank up a song I love and sing it all the way home.  This morning it was That's Not My Name by The Ting Tings. 

I really enjoy this song.  Great beat, fun lyrics.  I particularly like the line "They call me quiet, but I'm a riot."  That is so me.  The impression people get of me: organized, serious, quiet. That's not me once I let you in.  I can be those things, often I am.  But I am a riot too. 

Anyway, as I approached a stoplight, I had the stoplight dilemma.  The music is REALLY loud, do I turn it down until the light changes?  I decide: Hell No!  Its my Tuesday!

So there I am, the music is so loud I can feel it in my fingernails.  Then I see in my peripheral vision that a guy in a business suit with a cell phone glued to his ear is staring at me.  I almost turned it down, but then I remembered something about trudging into work everyday.  It is really fun to start the day with an anecdote.

You get your coffee and tell your coworkers a funny little story about what happened to you that morning.  A good conversation ensues and the day starts off on the right foot.

So I turned it up and began singing along and dancing a little.  I can still see this guy in my peripheral vision.  He has hung up the phone and is flat out staring at me.  I pretend not to know and keep right on singing.

Finally the light changes.  Right before I hit the gas, I give the guy a wave.  He started laughing and gave me a friendly double honk.

So I have to call out Truck

I just turned on the TV in the office.  I have the tunes cranked and some ideas for the blog.  I was all ready to go & then I remembered the inauguration and decided to turn the TV on so I could catch all the festivities.  

OMG!  His TV was on Fox News.  Not the Fox network.  The actual Fox "News" channel.  

I hope he has a really good explanation.

I had to turn up the Violent Femmes really loud just to cleanse my brain.

Monday, January 19, 2009

So advanced motor skills are a pain in the ass



Worm has known how to open the doors in our house for a while now, but until yesterday he hadn't used this skill much.  If he wanted to get behind a closed door he still came to get me. Yesterday the other shoe dropped.  He figured out he could wait until I WASN'T looking and then open a door.

Within 30 minutes I caught him doing both of these things.  In fact the cookies happened while I was picking up q-tips.  I think he planned it that way.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

So the boys had an early bath

Yesterday I was sitting on the couch, tuning out The Suite Life of Zack and Cody and playing Sextuple on the iPhone.  I am completely addicted to Sextuple.  It is not enough for me to pass every level, I must completely solve every level or I feel bitterly disappointed with myself. Seriously.

Anyway, there we are in the living room when I realize that I am missing a boy.  I immediately KNOW where he is and what he is doing.  Mama instinct is scary accurate.  I run to our bathroom and there is Worm, playing in the toilet.  OH MY DEAR LORD IT WAS NOT FLUSHED!

Now, before you think we are completely disgusting, let me explain.

It was just pee.  It is sinful in today's ecological climate to flush every time you pee.  We are just doing our part to help the environment.

Not buying it, huh?

Okay, here's why.  Worm's bedroom shares a wall with the master bath and another wall with the boy's bath.  We got in the habit of not flushing when he is asleep.

It has never been an issue before.  He hasn't shown a tremendous interest in the toilet.  One time, months ago, we had a toilet incident, but nothing since.

I handled it very calmly, I think.  There was no swearing (out loud).  I just stripped him down, drew a warm bath and let it go.

However, we have an ALWAYS flush rule starting immediately.  I would rather chance waking him up with a flush than have to monitor his every move.  Also, I am NOT buying toilet locks.  I am all for basic baby proofing, but I will not take it to the level of insanity.  I have enough to be insane about.

So Huck called me out

He was asking another insane question.  I guess he could hear in my voice that I was trying not to laugh at him (plus my reply might have been less than serious).  He looked right at me and said "Mama! Don't mock me."

I have become such a blatant mocker that the 6 year old picked up on it. 

So I think I failed the mediocrity confession thing

What I really should have shared with you is a picture of my garage and my ugliest pair of underwear.  Truly scary stuff.

Here's the deal... I can't.  I know that probably only about 4.5 people read this with any regularity, but 3.5 of those folks already know what my garage looks like and don't judge me for it.  Only one reader has seen the ratty undies, but he is married to me, so it doesn't count.

I even reread my handwritten mediocrity post.  A bunch of carefully edited crap.  I am just not ready to REALLY let you guys in.  Possibly, I will never be ready.  

I'll work on sharing more of the "real" me with all 4.5 of you.  You deserve it for your loyalty.

Or possibly I will just throw out the undies and clean the garage.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

So I owe Jo this post



Last night Jo commented on her facebook page that she was cleaning.  I reacted like jerk and said some sarcastic stuff about how I had passed out upon hearing that.  I also outed her about the fact that you aren't actually cleaning if you are on facebook.  

This morning I had an attack of guilt.  Not because I was mean to Jo.  She can take it.  I felt bad because I have been reading some stuff lately about the "Ministry of Mediocrity" and was all into it, I thought.

I'm not sure where the term actually comes from, or who to really give credit to, but I read about mediocrity here and here.  It is a cool idea.  The premise is that you show your flaws to help other people get over their own insecurities.  

I am an unashamed mocker, usually.  Today I am ashamed of myself. Jo was bravely putting her flaws out there and I did not support her. 

Showing my flaws is not a strong suit of mine.  Sure I can be self deprecating, but not ever about the things that REALLY bother me about myself. I will vacuum the rug before Huck has friends to play, as if six year old boys would notice crumby rugs.  I will actually delete pictures off my camera because the background shows toys all over the floor.  I have almost NO pictures of me with my kids.  I say it is because I am always the one behind the camera, but really its because I delete any picture of me that isn't flattering.

I hand wrote some ideas for a post last night.  I was going to call it "So I am confessing my mediocrity".  It was (obviously) going to be hysterical, but heartwarming.  Now I don't deserve that post.  It would have been great, but I am punishing myself and letting it fade away.

In my great post I was going to tell you some of my dirty little secrets about hairy legs and messy closets.  It was going to border on TMI, but not cross the line.  Slightly crass, but not full on tacky.

Instead I am going to simply post a picture of the most embarrassing mess in my house currently and a picture of myself, unedited, exactly what I look like right now.  No shower, glasses on, no make-up, bad angle and lighting because I am taking it myself... Yikes!

Until now, I didn't have a current picture of myself on this blog because I can't stand the thought of posting something that makes me look less than perfect.  Wow, am I really that shallow?  Yup.  That's why these pictures will come down in a few days.  Shallowness is one of my many mediocre traits.  Feel free to mock me.  I would do the same to you.



Friday, January 16, 2009

So no call for Latinas Barber Shop today

I held my breath at 12:30 today.  No call.  No one said "Carmen?" to my tentative hello.  

I always say, "No this is not Carmen, this is a residence, not a business."  What I really want to say is, "Do I sound like a Carmen you fuckwits!"

I am now worried that AT&T has joined forces with the manufacturers of Tootsie Rolls and my local heating repairmen.  

Mostly I posted this just to practice my new linking back to old posts skill.  It is totally fun.  I'm really not that busy here, people.

So I had to blog about it

Last night Truck was looking through the shows on his DVR and he said "What day is it?" I replied, "Thursday the 15th".  I was unsure if he wanted to know the day of the week or the actual date, so I helpfully supplied both. Yes I am very nice like that.  Then he said, "What was yesterday?"  I said "Wednesday, the 14th, stupid.  Don't make me blog about you."

I have been writing this since October 28th, 2008 and it is already such a permanent part of my life that every conversation, event and thought has blog potential.  


Thursday, January 15, 2009

So I might kill someone at AT&T

Shortly after we moved into our current home we began getting calls for B&J roofing and Ms. Johnson.  It was no big deal until the callers became collectors and the collectors became slightly menacing. Eventually I had our number changed.  I specifically requested a phone number that had never been used before.

We now get calls for Latina's Barber shop and Carmen.  The calls are not menacing yet, but they do come around 12:30 everyday.  

Worm is sleeping at 12:30.  I need my Worm free time like Jeff Conway needs his oxycontin.  If these calls wake up my baby one more time I will go postal on some poor AT&T customer service rep.

I would take the phone off the hook, but AT&T also messed up my internet and I can't use it if the phone is in use (Hello, 1994.)  I guess it will eventually get annoying enough for me to take care of.

So there was a mix-up at the hospital

Worm does not like corn-dogs.  Clearly he is not my child.  

Never mind that he laughs exactly like Huck (who obviously is my child due to his love of all crappy food).  Its a coincidence that he looks just like baby pictures of me.  The "just watch me" grin and eyebrow furrow must be habits he picked up from mirroring my behavior.

No child of mine would ever turn up his nose to a corn-dog.  What's next, salty fries?  Or, oh God I can hardly even type this, pizza.  

Seriously.  Who doesn't like corn-dogs?

So I have been playing with the Flip Video camera

There is a new video over there.  It is of Huck dancing.  Sort of.  Ummm, yeah.

There is also a couple of boring minutes of Worm in the snow.  I probably said his name again. May need to set up two Youtube channels.  One for all videos & one for blog friendly videos. 

Sharing my life is turning out to be a pain in the ass.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

So I was really really wrong

I used to say that I should have married a trucker.  The idea of being married, but not always living with your spouse appealed to me.  It wasn't a commentary on Truck's spousal abilities. He's pretty awesome company (boot comments aside). I just really like to be alone.

On August 2nd 2002, I stopped saying that.  That was the day Huck was born.  Truck was a very hands on daddy.  We were both clueless, but he seemed to rise to the challenge quicker.  I get frustrated with my own ineptitude and Truck just works through it until he gets it right. 

Huck was born on a Friday and I didn't change a diaper until the following Tuesday. Truck taught me how to wipe his little bottom and care for his circumcision and belly button.  He taught me to point the boy parts down (a VITAL step if you don't want your baby to pee out the top of the diaper) and how to get the diaper tabs tight and even.  Truck always combed his freshly washed baby hair just so.  He gave shoulder rides when I thought he was too small.  He was the preferred boo-boo kisser. He is calm and patient with boo-boos.  I either freak out because I am afraid they are hurt badly, or am impatient because I know they are not.

Then came October 25th, 2004.  The day we had been waiting for.  The day Truck got a really great job. It was the kind of job and paycheck we had been wanting.  Mentally challenging, physically exhausting, but financially rewarding.

All of the sudden, hands on dad became the golden boy of his employer. The training was grueling, but he excelled.  The hours were long, but he still put in more than everyone else.  The work was more often frustrating than rewarding, but he worked through it just like he did with the early days of Huck's infancy.  Then that first paycheck came in and the other stuff fell away. Truck recalls looking at it and thinking "Hell yeah, I get another of these in two weeks!"

He is still with the same company and is now on his second promotion.  His current position was formally offered on the day Worm was born.  He is still the golden boy.  The workload and frustration have increased exponentially.  The pay has been increased accordingly.  But his job has partially eclipsed Worm's life from day one.

I decided not to return to work when Worm was about a month old.  I have changed 99% of the diapers (Worm is a pooper, Huck was not, where is the justice?).  His hair usually looks like I took an eggbeater to it. I don't do shoulder rides (I am more of a silly song and dance girl). When he gets a boo-boo he just shakes it off unless he is really hurt (in which case I totally over-react).

I know we can't go back to how things were, but I promise you will never again hear me say I should have married a trucker.  I miss you tonight and I don't like doing this alone.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

So I'm done for the day

I got the videos on.  It is still messed up.  I removed the one that said the kids names, but it looks like it is still there.  If you click on it you will get a message that it has been removed.  Whatever. I have now invested way more time on this than I do on child rearing in a given day.

So I figured out how to do something else really cool

Still waiting on the whole Youtube thing.  In the meantime I was wondering how other folks do that cool thing where a word will be underlined in their blog and then when you click it you go to a previous post where they mentioned the same thing or even to another site entirely (yes that was a badly worded sentence. My blog, don't care).

Anyway, I figured it out.  Try it now.

Did it take you to my first ever post?  Feedback, please.

So I don't have the bugs worked out on the video thing

I'm working on it.

So I figured out how to get video on the blog

I got my videos posted, but I can't specify which ones I want to show or in what order. 

I didn't want the last video on the blog at all because (GASP) I say my kids' real names on it. Whatever.  I feel pretty certain that the only strangers who read my blog have gotten here by mistake.  In retrospect, I wouldn't do the nickname thing.  Its too hard to stay consistent with it.

The middle video should be watched before the first video.  Let me explain.  The middle video is of Worm hitting stuff (mostly me) with a plastic eggplant and then terrorizing the cat.  Cute stuff, but even better when followed by the video of Worm watching the recording of himself while he hits me with the plastic eggplant.  Notice he calls himself Baby now and not Poo.  

So I have some random things to share

It is really cold today so I wanted to wear gloves.  I found three red gloves, none of them matched. Why would I have three unmatched gloves and why are they all red?  I don't wear much red or particularly like red.  I did eventually find one matching set (the mate was in my sock drawer - socks/gloves, its all cotton right?).

With these gloves on I hit the road.  I decide I would like to hear some tunes so I hook the iPhone into the auxiliary port in my dashboard.  I then realize that I cannot unlock the iPhone or operate the touch screen with gloves on.  That sucks, I just found them and now one or both of them will be lost in my car until summer.

Okay, phone unlocked.  New playlist selected.  Ready to rock.  Nope, skip that song.  Nah, not that one either.  Skip.  Skip. Skip.  What the hell?  I just spent twenty minutes building a playlist called Current Favorites and now I don't want to hear any of the songs on it.  

Gloves, buttons, tunes.  They are all out to get me today.  Do you think the heating repairman has anything to do with it?

So I have a dead rabbit in my front yard

There is really and truly a bunny carcass in my front yard.  Apparently a neighborhood cat caught Bugs unawares.

The body has been in my bushes for months.  I didn't mind it.  No one could see it.  I wouldn't have ever seen it if I hadn't gotten all picky about how our yard looks and trimmed the bushes back.  When I discovered it, I was pretty creeped out for a minute.  Then I got over it and finished my yard work.  If I can't see it, its not really there, right?

That was October.  It is still there.  Only now some creature has dragged one leg out of the bushes and into the open part of my yard.  One furry little leg separated from the rest of the body.  I'm skeeved out just thinking about it.

So I was wondering.... would you, dear reader, like to remove the bunny carcass from my yard? If not for me, for Huck.  

Eventually Huck will have an occasion to be in the front yard.  He is a VERY sensitive little guy (obviously he got that from Truck). I have to change the channel when St. Judes commercials come on or he will tear up.  He will see something that tugs his heartstrings and talk about it endlessly for weeks.  A Feed the Children ad once sent him sobbing into my arms.  Imagine what an encounter with a severed bunny leg will do to this kid.  Help me out!

I would have done something about it by now if I could.  But I can't.  I now have the heebie jeebies because I was trying to imagine how I might dispose of this myself.

Please, please, please.  I will be your best friend.  I will invite you to my birthday party.  I will learn to french braid your hair.  I will make you a bracelet out of embroidery thread.  I will let you cheat off my spelling test (although you might want to take a pass at that - spell check and I are pretty tight). I will make you a mix tape.

So I should be getting my Mom of the Year Trophy any day now

Yesterday Huck mentioned that he would like some Cookie Crisp cereal.  I am a fan of the Crisp myself, so I picked up a box at the store.  Turns out Worm is a fan as well AND doesn't know it is not actually cookies.  I think Worm and I ate half the box before Huck got home from school.

Anyway, back to my award winning Mom-ness....

I had to attend a PTA board meeting during Worm's nap time so Grandma stayed at the house. Until yesterday I hadn't realized WHY those two hours are crucial to my sanity.  I thought nap time was just a nice break from the Worm. Turns out it is, for me, a VITAL break from all human contact. Spending my break discussing fundraisers, budgets, pick-up & drop-off lines, and other elementary school crap turned me into psycho mom.

By 4 p.m. I was feeling a mite hassled.  Worm was transitioning into late afternoon clingy mode and Huck was in full blown Monday after school cranky mode.  I put in a video that they will both usually watch, thinking it would buy me sometime to straighten up the house (yes, tidying the house actually helps me relax, it allows me to restore order in my environment - yes I have control issues).

The video did not work.  Huck alternated between jumping around like a loon and laying on the floor right where I needed to walk.  Worm followed me around asking for some new random thing every two minutes (Elmo, juice, cheese, Wiggles, ball, cracker, water, kitty-cat, up, down, go car, cookie).  He finally settled on Cookie Crisp (you wondered if I was every getting back to that didn't you?).  He then proceeded to dump it on the floor and wonder off.  

This is the floor that I just tidied.  Eye-twitching, pulse racing....

Huck then says "Can I have some Cookie Crisp too?"

I hollered, "NO!  Unless you want to eat what your brother dumped on the floor."

He did.

I suck.


Sunday, January 11, 2009

So I am a total cliche

It started with facebook.  Seemed like harmless fun at the time.  Connect with current friends, find a few old ones.  Take some stupid quizzes.  Not an inspired pastime, but I'm a 35 year old mother of two with no passions or hobbies, inspired activities aren't exactly my forte (however, self-deprecation might be).

Next came the blog.  For me, it was a natural transition from facebook to the blogosphere.  On facebook I share personal information and insights that are occasionally interesting but mostly banal with friends and acquaintances.

Today, Truck bought me a Flip Video (digital video recorder).  Within 30 minutes of owning it I had set-up a youtube account and was in the process of uploading video of my kids to the web.

Do you know how many people are on facebook?  Facebook says there are over 90 million active accounts.

Do you know how many people write blogs?  My 30 second google search lead me believe there are upwards of 50 million blogs out there.  Even if all of those people write two blogs each (because most bloggers write several) that is still 25 million bloggers.

Do you know how many people have youtube accounts?  Youtube estimates 15.9 million.

There are MILLIONS of people doing the same stuff as me.  Right now someone else is posting a blog about what a band-wagon jumper they are because they facebook, blog, and youtube. 

I am completely unoriginal.  Sigh.  

Coming soon to this blog: Youtube video of my stereotypical children performing predictable activities.

Sigh.

So Huck speaks just like me

Friday morning we were moving slooooooowly through the drop off line at Huck's school when I notice his teacher parking her car.  We are driving right past her, so I point her out to Huck.  He loves his teacher, so he gives her a wave and says "Hi, Miss J."  

However, it is really cold outside, the windows are up (and tinted) so she doesn't actually see or hear him.  I helpfully suggest that he tell her he saw her getting out of her car.  His response: "I'd rather not."

That is exactly what I would say to such a suggestion.  I am so proud!

Friday, January 9, 2009

So Truck and I went out tonight

I actually have a lot of stuff to discuss (thanks to my handy little voice recording app - I heart my iphone) but will not be getting to them tonight.

Here's the deal.  It is 9 p.m.  My belly is really full of shrimp and lobster.  I am half drunk - maybe three quarters.  And my kids are not home.....

Anyway, I have one thing I must get out before I forget.  Mostly because I didn't put it on the voice recorder and I am half - maybe five eighths drunk.

Truck and I don't go out much.  My regular readers know the facts:  we have two kids, he travels A LOT, I am really averse to leaving the house if I don't have to.  So tonight was a big deal. I put on eye make-up and high heals and an impractical but flattering outfit.  In other words, I went as all out as I will really ever go.

Truck knew I was making an effort.  He knew complements were appropriate.  However, he didn't quite get to the complements portion of the evening.

Here's what happened:

I finish getting ready.  I walk toward the office to round him up.  He is heading toward the bedroom to round me up.  We meet in the living room.  He says "Let me get a look at you."  I pause and purposefully do not pose. When you are 5 foot 2 inches you cannot pose without looking like a kid in her mom's church shoes and caked on lipstick.

He says (here it comes, my hard earned complement!) "Are those new shoes?  Oh, no, its those boots."

SERIOUSLY?  

I effing curled my eyelashes!  I changed my BRA twice!  I actually put on nice socks under the boots knowing that they wouldn't even show!  What is wrong with you?

I looked great! 

I rarely look great.

I often look shitty.

I didn't get mad or even a little upset.  Its just how we are.  He means to say it, I know what he means.  We get on with life.  There is no drama here.  If you are looking for drama watch Greys Anatomy.  Those bitches would have been mad about the missed complement.  Not me, no way.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

So I stole from Wal-Mart today

It was completely by accident and I feel really bad about it.

You know how much Worm loves his popcorn chicken (incidentally he has started calling it HOT instead of YUM, I guess because I always say "Its hot" when I give it to him, makes sense to me).  

Anyway, we were at Wal-Mart at 8:30 this morning and I thought I could run in and get a new trash can without incident.  Who am I kidding?

Because I went in on the non-food side, I was able to pick out a trash can without any Worm interference.  So I head straight for the register and then it hits him.

HOT!

No, baby.  Lets just get a snack at home.  I can't really see over this trash can.

HOT!

Hey, here are some raisins.  You love raisins!  Crap.  Sorry old lady, I couldn't see you around my giant trash can.

HOT!

Juice?  Do you want your juice?  Oops, kind of nicked that display, hope nothing fell.

HOT! HOT! HOT!

Fine.  Let me walk all the way across the store while leaning awkwardly at the waist so I don't injure anyone.

We head for the deli.  We are waiting in line behind a guy ordering six individually packaged slices of pizza.  I start to wonder, why kind of freak is ordering pizza at 8:30 a.m., then I remember what I am ordering and tell myself to shut up.

Incidentally there was a professional photography crew right by the deli in the prepared foods section.  They were photographing an employee and a lady who was dressed too nicely for Wal-Mart.  They were holding opposite sides of a meat tray and pretending to talk about it. Strange, but at least it kept Worm entertained.

Once we have the hot in hand, I figure we might as well get some other stuff.  Bad idea.  The trash can blind spot plus popcorn chicken trail made me very anxious.  By the time we were at the register I was pretty much done with all activity outside my home for the day.

We made it through the parking lot safely.  No thanks to the Best Buy drivers who were cruising the Wal-Mart lot today.  As I am lifting Worm out of the cart I realize that I forgot to have the cashier scan his popcorn chicken.

I debated going back in, but I just didn't have it in me.  

Is there a special spot in hell for neurotic mommies who knowingly steal processed chicken snacks? 

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

So the mean OB-GYN from the movie "Knocked Up" works at my post office

Seriously.  He looks like a taller version of that guy.  But it was his craptastic attitude that sealed it.  I could totally imaging him grilling me about cigarettes and then saying "Do you want to do my job?  Do you want to just deliver that mail yourself.  Should I leave?"

Its after school so both kids are with me.  Huck is carrying the package to be mailed because I am carrying Worm.  I get up to the window and put Worm on the counter.  Post office guy gives me the I-don't-think-so one eyebrow raise thing (that I am seriously jealous of because I can't do it), so I put Worm on the floor.  I turn to get the package from Huck and he is all the way across the room.  I yell "bring it to me, please."  He brings me Mickey Mouse postcards.  I bite back the sarcastic thing I want to say and instead ask for the package in the nicest mommy voice I can muster.  

I am now ready to deal with the guy.  I turn to him and he says in a very snotty voice "I said, do you have something to mail?"  Now I bite back three sarcastic things I want to say (like: If I had heard you the first time don't you think I would have answered?  or: No, I love bringing my children to the post office, can we just stand here a minute? or my favorite: I bought those stamps that you make online with your kid's photo on them. However, they aren't all that photogenic and the stamps turned out ugly.  Can I get my money back?).  Instead I just hand him the package.  

While he is weighing it I accidentally pull some mini Three Musketeers from my coat pocket.  I was going to give them to Huck & Worm in the car for good behavior.  But they have been in my pocket too long and are all melty.  I can't give this to Worm, it will be a chocolate covered nightmare.  Too late, he saw them and is now saying CANDY CANDY CANDY.  

I calmly tell him no.  He begins to cry and yell CANDY CANDY CANDY.  Post office office guy gives me another dirty look.  I am tempted to give Worm the melty candy, put him back on the counter and say "Watch him for a minute while I go peruse the postcards with my older son."

Next, post office guy says: "I suppose you want to mail this as cheaply as possible."  Really? Like you couldn't have found a more polite way to phrase that?  Its not like you get a commission off your sales you bitter little civil servant man.  I explain that its a CANDY CANDY CANDY birthday gift and I would like it there by CANDY CANDY CANDY Friday.  He actually perks up at this because that means I will not be mailing it "as cheaply as possible" Whatever, dude.

It is now time to pay and I swipe my debit card.  Post office guy asks debit or credit.  I say debit, but he cannot hear me over the CANDY CANDY CANDY.  So he asks again in a really slow way like I am mentally challenged "Deeeh-bit or Creeeh-dit?"

Finally my transaction is complete.  I round up the boys and as I am walking out the door I turn and look back at him.  He is looking right at me and I think I can actually read his thoughts.  I am pretty sure he was thinking: Wow, I hope she comes back soon, she was hot.  

Not really.

But I did turn back to look at him and for some bizarre reason he smiles a genuine smile and waves. Whatever, dude.


Tuesday, January 6, 2009

So I remembered something I was going to post weeks ago

A few days before Christmas I was walking into Wal-Mart.  An attractive younger man was loading up the trunk of what had to be a car borrowed from his Grandma.  It already looked really full, but he still had an ironing board left to fit in.  

I actually stopped and watched to see if he could do it.  He did and I gave him a little clap.  He smiled, full of Christmas cheer, and said "They don't make trunks like this anymore.  They are great for Christmas shopping."  So I say "Yeah, and for moving bodies from the scene of the crime."

His smile disappeared and he pretty much vaulted over his car in his hurry to get away from me.

I really didn't mind looking like a weirdo, he was the jackass buying someone an ironing board for Christmas.

So I'm sorry for the snarkiness regarding parking lot protection

Apparently I need it.  

While entering and again while leaving Best Buy today, I looked up to find a moving car much closer to me than I would have liked. 

Maybe I'm not that oblivious.  Maybe people just drive really fast at Best Buy.  All that testosterone leaking out of the giant TVs and such.

Oh, who am I kidding.  I am sort of oblivious.

So I have a ghost in my house

There is a toy in Worm's room that has been going off for about ten minutes now.  It is one that requires actual interaction to make noise.  I am the only (live) human in the house currently and the cat is in the office with me.  I am going to wait it out 
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CAN'T STAND IT (and I am tired of typing those dashes) MUST GO SEE.

Okay the toy is officially turned off.  If any other toys make noise, I will leave the house and not return until Thursday night after Truck is home. 

So I have a new voice recorder app for my iphone

That would explain all the posts yesterday.  I like to talk into it.  Then I like to post those thoughts.  It could become a problem.  I will call my physician later today and have him up my dosage.  Sorry.

Monday, January 5, 2009

So Huck had another friend over today

It was Eddie today (as in Haskell).  He was slightly better than I expected him to be, but not that much.  I guess every kid has to have THAT friend.  

I don't remember having an Eddie Haskell.  Shit!  Does that make me the Eddie?  Will have to clarify with my mom.....

....was about to call mom when it hit me.  My friend Joanie had an older sister named Elizabeth. Elizabeth had no friends so we were forced to play with her.  She was a prissy little tattletale asshole.  One day I called her an asshole behind her back, but apparently not out of earshot. She told on me (of course).  Her mom was furious!  My mom scolded me loudly in front of everybody and said she was taking me right home to spank me.  

We had to walk about half a block back to our house.  The whole time my mom was red-faced and shaking.  I was terrified.  I thought I was about to get the spanking of a lifetime.  Instead she rushed into the house and burst out laughing.  Finally she regained her composure enough to speak and she said "Elizabeth is an asshole, so is her mom.  Don't ever call anyone that again."

I was eight.  To this day I don't think I have ever used that word without remembering my mom in her coolest mom moment ever.

Huck doesn't swear yet.  I am looking forward to it.

So I found Truck's toothbrush

In case any of you were wondering.  It turned up under the desk in the office an hour later. Have written toothbrush on the grocery list.

This is my 6th post today, by the way.  Apparently I am in a sharing sort of mood.

So Huck is playing with the Wii fit

It says he is unbalanced as well.  Big shock.

So I owe Truck a toothbrush

Worm took your toothbrush.  It is now lost.  Possibly in Huck's room.  Will purchase a new one this week whether I locate it or not.  Sorry.

So I harbored fugitives yesterday

All opinions stated here are entirely my own.  I could be way off on some things.  I don't really care.  This is my blog.

Big Jim is on marriage number three.  He is currently married to Coco - Truck's mom.  He has kids from his first two marriages. The kids from his second marriage have a normal father/kid relationship with him and a normal step-sibling, step-kid, in-law, whatever relationship with the rest of us.  However, the girls from his first marriage are seriously screwed up.

Is this entirely his fault?  Probably not, but I believe they like to think so.

Anyway, I'm not out to analyze Big Jim's relationship with any one.  I am just here to rant about some crappy behavior.

Saturday one of the girls (her husband actually) left a message on Big Jim & Coco's answering machine.  The gist of it was that they were on a road trip and heading home and they would like to spend Sunday night with them.

Here is what I heard:

Hi, we have barely spoken to you in years.  We have never sent you pictures of your 2&1/2 year old grandson.  We never acknowledge any gifts you send our kids.  We ignored a heartfelt 8-page letter you sent several years ago.  Now we would like to descend on you with no notice on a Sunday afternoon when you have to work Monday morning. We would like for you to find room for us and our 3 kids (two of them teenagers) to sleep.  We would like to arrive early enough that you feel obligated to feed us two, possibly three meals.  We will probably also use this time to mention some monetary hardships we have experienced lately.  Also, do you have booze in the house? We love drinking other people's booze.

As I said before, I could be way off, but I doubt I am too far off.

Now we arrive at the rant portion of the post.  

You bitches have no idea what you are missing!  Big Jim and Coco are awesome grandparents. You have totally screwed your kids.  I suspect that this was the last straw for them.  If it isn't, it should be.

They proudly displayed your kid's photos (the ones they HAD anyway) along side the photos of the grandkids they see regularly.  They always answered 8 when asked how many grandkids they had (I suspect that will drop to 3).  And most importantly (to you anyway) Coco always went out of her way to buy your kids gifts.  That is probably over too.

Side tangent rant about Abercrombie & Fitch ahead...
Coco even went into Abercrombie & Fitch for your kids?  Do you know what Abercrombie & Fitch is like for a grandmother?  HELL!  It is probably what she imagines HELL to be like.  I am 35 and can barely tolerate walking past A & F in the mall.  The music is so loud that it makes Worm cry. Huck likes to stand outside and do the robot, but even he won't go in and he is only a few years shy of your target shoppers.

How do I know that they are done with you.  Because they HID FROM YOU AT MY HOUSE YESTERDAY.  They did not return your calls and made themselves scarce for several hours to ensure missing you entirely.  

Yesterday I sang a little Tom Petty & the Hearbreakers for Coco (You Don't Have to Live Like a Refugee).  Yes, she thinks I am odd, but she knows I love her and Big Jim will always harbor them.


So Truck has to protect me from slow moving traffic

We went to the movies yesterday.  As we are walking through the parking lot Truck asks me to move to the other side of him.  I do.  Then I realize he has just moved me away from the parking lot traffic like I am a child.  Seriously?

So I ask if he was concerned that I would not see the oncoming that are traveling 5 miles per hour.  He replies that I just might not get out of the way in time and he is protecting me.

Okay.

Later we are in another parking lot and I am allowed to walk to the car without assistance.  I say "Hey, I'm flailing around out here on my own."  Truck had no reply.  That I heard anyway.  There could have been a "get in the car dumbass" under his breath.

So I tried the Wii fit last night

At first I was doing great.  I started with Yoga because this is familiar territory for me.  I KICKED ASS.  3 out 4 stars on every activity.  I was feeling pretty good about myself so I moved on to the balance games.

Uh-Oh, these require quick reflexes (something I do not have apparently because I am female and will explain in another post).  I tried the soccer ball dodge.  The Wii said I was unbalanced. I tried the Skiing.  The Wii said I was unbalanced.  I tried the weird marble tilt thing.  The Wii said I was UNBALANCED.  

OKAY, EFF YOU WII!  LIKE I NEED A $89 PIECE OF PLASTIC AND LED LIGHTS TO CONFIRM THAT I AM UNBALANCED.

Truck has been saying it for years.  Not to my face or anything, but I see it in his eyes.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

So I just ran the dishwasher

Why is it that a woman can get an entire sink full of dishes into a dishwasher that a man has already declared full?

I know I could google this query and find many hilarious and insightful answers.  I could then share these with you.  Then that would inspire me to whip up a funny little original rant of my own, but I am feeling a touch of lazyassitis coming on.  It is best not to push myself when I feel a flare up.

So Huck has a friend over to play today

We have Nomad over to play today.  He came over at 9:30 and I truly thought they would be done with each other by 1 or 2.

I envisioned arguing and possibly tears (there have been tears, all Huck and all over the Wii that he has been master of until today).  However, they have not fought and they have not caused each other to cry.  The tears have all been short lived and mostly due to hunger or Wii-fatigue.

Right now they are happily playing and Truck has gone to run errands......WITH WORM!  Yes, he volunteered to take the baby with him (Jo & Big E, I expect some comments on this - encouraging this behavior if you can get past your shock).  I almost told him not to (see the posts from 1/2, 12/16, 12/15. 12/11, 11/10...etc for reasons why I might suggest that he NOT take Worm along).  

So I have some free time, what do I do?  First I made mini hamburger patties.  Then I peeled and chopped potatoes.  Then I realized that I was spending my free time starting dinner so I mentally kicked myself in the ass and drank a small glass of wine.  

Why a small glass?  Two reasons.  Number one, Nomad is here.  Anything more than a small glass feels inappropriate.  Number two, that's all I had.

Anyway, the play-date (that term sounds really gay and slightly naughty, I will try to think of a better term) has gone so well that Nomad is going to stay for dinner.  I cannot tell you how happy I am to have another friend that I like having at my house.

We have one friend that I like already.  He is polite and really bright and lives in our neighborhood. Then, as a bonus, I like his mom enough to hang out with her socially.  All around the perfect friend for Huck.  Grandpa actually met them at McDonald's in a weird little bit of coincidence.  That is just one of the many reasons I will be eternally grateful to Grandpa.

But, back to Nomad.  It has worked out fabulous with him as well.  He is also polite.  This is much more important to me that I would have thought.  Spend a few hours (or minutes) with an impolite kid and then you will understand where I'm coming from.  Plus he is smart.  This is as important to me as I thought it would be.  Spend a few seconds with a dumb kid and you will want to smack him.  I know that sounds harsh, but it's my blog and I don't care what you think. 

So we now have another great kid in our lives.  As my t-shirt says, Life is Good.

Friday, January 2, 2009

So I am ready for the holidays to be OVER already

I was really excited about the holidays this year.  Having Huck out of school for Christmas break seemed like a good rest from the school day schedule we have been mired in.  On top of that Truck ends up taking about two weeks off for the holidays as well.  I was looking forward to two weeks with all my boys.

Okay, it was fun and all, but I'm just not that into it anymore.

I am ready for Huck to go back to school.  I am ready for Truck to go back to work.  I love them, but apparently I love them more in small doses.

Worm and I got up and dressed and went to Wal-Mart alone this morning. He hollered for popcorn chicken (see the Dec 11 post).  He dropped a lot of it.  He stole my pen (I shop with a list and cross it off as I go, yes I am that anal). He wrote on his face.  He scribbled on my list making some of my items appear crossed off before they made it in the cart (I didn't actually miss any items on my list, but it seriously bothered me to have them crossed off the list before they were in my cart.  YES I AM THAT ANAL). He wanted a drink, but not the drink I brought. He wanted cookies. I had to backtrack to the bakery for a cookie. He dropped his cookie.  He cried.  I went back to the bakery. He wanted some bee (see the Dec 16 post).  I had to buy some bee.  He pulled 10 packages of tortillas off a shelf.  He kicked me in the head while I picked up the tortillas. He got mad when I wouldn't let him throw apples.  

IT WAS FANTASTIC!  It was normal.  I want my airtight, stuck in a rut, school day schedule back.