Thursday, December 29, 2005
Now I've discovered a lovely little thing called FreeCycle! Instead of hauling your unwanted crap to the dump, you can post it on your local FreeCycle group and have many many people email you immediately and tell you how much they really need or want your junk! Of course, it makes you no money... but if you really aren't going to use something anymore and you don't mind giving it away for free, you can always find SOMEONE who wants it.
Today is a FreeCycle kind of day. I am in organization mode and I have spent a good part of the day shuffling through lots of different stuff and cleaning. I listed a whole pile of my junk on the site and I've excitedly been sitting here emailing replies "Yes, those electric candles are YOURS!", or "You got it! I'll save these Happy Retirement stickers aside for YOU!". I love it.
I know I have an addictive personality. At least my latest craze is useful.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
So, Saturday was the appointed day for the tree, we were armed with our music and our brand new 7 1/2 foot artificial tree. Yep, that's right, we went artificial this year. I have never ever done an artificial tree and it was a big adjustment for me. There's something romantic and spiritual about going out on a cold frosty morning to pick out the perfect fresh cut tree. There's something about lugging it all the way home, trimming the trunk, setting it into the stand and hauling it inside. There's the SMELL... ooohhh, the fantastic scent of Christmas. However, after several weeks of being in our house, there's the familiar and irritating pile of needles on the floor. There will come the day when you notice that the tree isn't really drinking the water you've climbed down under the tree to fill up, and you know that tree is drying out and drying out with every day. By Christmas morning, you reach under the tree to get that pretty little present and half of the needles rain down with a crackling on the gifts. By Christmas dinner, the tree looks pathetic. The next day, you're contemplating ripping it down already. Ok, maybe not YOU, but me, yes, several years. The day after Christmas last year Rob and I took full advantage of my father visiting us and took off in the morning for sales. We were determined to buy our very first fake tree. We got a great deal and were excited about putting it together for the first time ever this year.
So, again, back to Saturday. I've got music going, I've hauled up all the boxes of decorations out of the basement. We cut open the box containing our glorious new tree. An hour later, we're still plugging in color coded branches into little holes and fluffing up the fake needles. This is a somewhat long and depressing task. By the time we were done, I'm no longer festive. I no longer care about the damned Ponderosa or if the star will fit on the 7 1/2 foot tree when our ceilings are 7 1/2 feet exactly. I am more annoyed that I just spent an hour plugging branches into a fake tree and now my wee beast is awake and joining big beast in ripping apart boxes of decorations and ornaments. OHHHH, what's THIS???? ARGH.
By the end of the day, I'm exhausted and I have just one more box to put away... why does this take longer and longer every year? But alas, finally, the lights are all on, my little village is lit, and there's Rob handing me an eggnog with plenty of the "nog" and the day doesn't seem as annoying anymore. Hmmm..... Christmas. I'll tell ya later whether or not the artificial tree was worth it. Merry Christmas!!
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Well, the preschool feast went just marvelously, dahling! This is a picture of us all gussied up in our pilgrim clothes. Max modified his outfit a bit with the shades, but it added a nice touch. The other little guy is our next door neighbor, who I've been babysitting and he is also in Max's class.
I supplied the pumpkin pie which all the little people at school seemed to like. I also spent the class helping out and you know what?? It wasn't the horrible hellish experience I anticipated! I know, you're thinking I'm terrible person.. go ahead. Kids are annoying, there's no way round it! I always thought the absolute worst job in the universe for me personally was to be a teacher, especially to really little kids. Every week I unload Max down the street, smile really pretty to his teachers, and run like hell all the way home. Small children frighten me. They are either going to cry, fight, whine.... or have some kind of accident in their clothing. Anyhoo, I started to have the beginnings of an anxiety attack as the the other little pilgrims arrived for the day last Tuesday. I didn't know all their names.... they looked at me skeptically, like they knew my true feelings.... I had a very bad feeling inside. I stood stock still for several minutes sizing them up. It didn't take very long, they're small. One of the teachers told me it was free play for the first segment and I could just make sure people were playing nice. I shrugged and kneeled down at an absurdly small table surrounded by three/four-year olds and various rubber dinosaurs. I realized that it's just like being on stage and I really just had to let it all go and be silly. I tentatively took hold of a Stegosaurus and nibbled at a piece of plastic pizza. Pretty soon we were having a full-fledged dinosaur picnic and were going for drives in Barbies Volkswagen. I was actually having fun, and the best part? The kids LOVED me. I don't mean to toot my own horn or anything (aw, who am I kidding??) but I ROCKED those dinosaurs and I had those preschoolers roaring. After free play we sang some songs and had our feast and did other fun things.
Later that night I told Rob how I'd had a change of heart about kids. "I think I like them" I told him. Of course, I always knew that I liked my OWN kids, and I had a liking to familiar children like my nephews and niece and certain of Max's friends... but this was bigger than that. I saw how varied children are in their little personalities and I had fun, lots of fun. I really enjoyed playing with girls, too.... I'm so used to boys and their trucks and stuff. I think I need to get me a little girl.... :)
So, there you have it, my story of pilgrims, pie and preschoolers. Ain't Thanksgiving great?
Monday, November 21, 2005
I lumber into the kitchen and hear the hissing from behind the fridge and there by the bottom is a big puddle of water. GREAT. My first thought is that our fridge is in the midst of biting the dust. I guess this warrants the waking of Rob. The husband needs to see this. I'm a strong, independent woman of course, but there are certain mechanical issues that elude me and I need my super-smart husband to clear things up for me.
I wake Rob and we pull the fridge out. There is an enormous amount of water behind the fridge and Rob discerns that the water line tube to our ice maker/water dispenser has sprung a leak and that's the cause of the water. No problem. We start taking care of the leak when Rob asks me if it's raining out. I have a brief flashback to my dream then say "no". We both turn our heads towards the stairs..... and bolt down them. There in our family room downstairs is a BIG leak from the ceiling and a huge puddle on the carpet.
Needless to say it's not the sort of thing you want to wake up to at 2:30 in the morning. Everything has been cleaned up and remedied, except for, of course, the large hole we cut in the ceiling to let the pooled water out. What a friggen nightmare.
This was a homeowner's test, you know. Sure, the dishwasher could go, or you might need to replace some windows or the roof.... but when water has seeped into your walls and flooring and is squirting out in random spots.... that's terror folks. What's going on behind that sheetrock? That's the real question. We survived this morning and now have some more projects to add to our big list of "stuff". Now the question is... do I still want the icemaker THAT bad??
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
So, this afternoon I was excitedly creating some outfits for Max and I to wear to his preschool's Thanksgiving Feast. We can either dress up as a Native American or a Pilgrim. Being 5'11" with fair skin and red hair I quickly made the decision to be a Pilgrim, and since Max shares my complexion, why not go with the theme? Anyway, I was quite proud of myself for making a nice, full, long navy skirt (out of some old curtains at that!) and came up with a pattern for a bonnet. I put Max in some black pants and was trying to get them marked so I could make nikkers out of them. I was bent over, rolling Max's pant legs when I caught scent of something horrendous. Little kid poop. It smelled worse than usual and I knew it couldn't just be my four-year-olds notorious gas. I looked over at Miles (do you know where this is going??) and saw his grin first thing. I looked down and noticed his feet were covered in feces. GAG. I looked behind him at the dirty diaper lying on my (BRAND NEW) rug, and my eyes finally settled on the three little poopy foot prints that connected the diaper and my child. I screamed out in horror and lifted Miles up, keeping him arms length away, and whisked him to the changing table. I instructed Max to steer clear of the crime scene and proceeded to assess the situation with Wee Beast. His feet needed to get scrubbed pretty quickly, because he was grabbing at them with his little hands and (HOLY CRAP, WHAT'S THAT NEAR HIS MOUTH???!!) he was tracking it all over the darned place. Ten minutes later, I've broken a sweat and Miles is pissed and I'm out of wipes. I figure this may warrant an impromptu nap and plop him in (WITH pants, I might add). I hesitate in the hallway for a minute, then proceed to the living room to meet my fate. Ugh.
The living room is finally scrubbed clean, and Miles is still napping. I got the meatloaf in the oven and the kitchen squared away. The Pilgrim garments will wait till another day, cause, people, I've had it. Remind me another time to bring up the poop story involving my eldest beast and his construction vehicle. Classic.
Monday, November 14, 2005
So, here we have a few shots from Saturday. Max's cake was a rescue vehicle cake with trucks and a helicopter and red icing. I may not ever have a cake with red icing again (I have a few hand towels that will never be quite the same again!) Here are my nephews demonstrating how delectable red icing can be. David, Jayson and Evan.
The great fun of popping balloons with your bottom. That little red-head is my niece!! Cute as a button!
Shhhh..... don't tell anyone else how yummy this cake is. One word for you.... leftovers.
Max blew out his candle before the song was over and Rob had to re-light it about four times to last through the singing. By far, Max's favorite part.
Monday, November 07, 2005
While Rob and I were cleaning up after dinner last night he sighed and said "I'm really not looking forward to this week". I, confused, looked at him with complete innocence. What? What about this week? "You know how you get", he said. It's true. At the mere thought of company coming my primal cleaning/organizing instincts kick into gear and cupboards start getting sponged clean and the refrigerated gets pulled out, and (as my brother James recently pointed out) the couch gets moved aside for the vacuuming. It's a party and damnit, this house is gonna sparkle. Oh, and it's gonna smell CLEAN. I'm a Virgo and I was raised right, girlfriend, and I'm proud of it! Phew... don't know what just got ahold of me.
So, much to the dismay of my husband, I'm on a cleaning and preparing mission. And I'm off to sand spackle in Max's room.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Here is the Birthday Boy! Max turned four years old last Tuesday and I'm finally getting around to posting a picture. Please note: That tastey-looking babba in front of him is NOT his. He is a BIG BOY! Miles leaves them everywhere. This is one of the cool boy presents we gave Max. It's a slot car track and he was squealing and giggling in a high-pitched frenzy when this photo was taken. I say cool "boy" presents because I went out shopping for a little four-year-old girl today and MAN, there's nothing fun that's girly. Another topic entirely. Anyway, he had a blast on his birthday and we look forward to seeing everyone at the big bash in November!
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Monday, October 24, 2005
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Monday, October 17, 2005
Friday, October 07, 2005
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
anyways, this post is titled after our beloved family pet, Plop. This morning when I turned on the light in the living room, Plop was laying down. Now, I've had fish before, but I'm no expert when it comes to these underwater friends.... but.... fish aren't... SUPPOSED to lay down, right? He definitely looked like he was not doing well at all. I sighed a heavy-hearted sigh and sat down. Maybe feeding him would make him feel better (it has always worked for me). I pinched in some food. Nothing. I got some coffee and came back. He was blinking at me. I went to the bathroom and came back. He was waving his fins a little. I decided not to watch him so closely because maybe I was giving him some kind of anxiety. I flicked through the stations looking for news. After kind of side-looking over to see how Ploppy was doing, I noticed he was king of limp-swimming and even trying to eat some of the food bits floating up top.
It's now been an hour since I saw him looking so sad and he is swimming about and he has eaten. I have a sad feeling deep inside though, I sort of know that this is the end of days for poor, poor Plop. Rob is closest to him. Rob always asks if Plop's been fed and how Plop's doing. He laughs it off saying if anything ever happened to him, Max would be devastated. You know, I'm not so sure Max would care much. Not that my super-intelligent dramatic four-year-old is callous or cold.... it's just that he's got bigger things on his mind; Rescue Heros, what's for snack, are we going outside? I think the news will be harder to break to Rob.
Well, stay tuned for updates about Plop. I hear footsteps upstairs and I better go say good morning.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Monday, September 26, 2005
Monday, September 19, 2005
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
It's hard to believe it's September already and another fall is here. I love fall. I love the crisp cool mornings and the apple picking and the leaf piles. I love wearing cozy clothes and making pies and lighting candles. Fall feels good. All those things are great, but one thing about fall I have always loved so much is buying school supplies. Admittedly, it's been a while since I was in need of school supplies. I do unnecessarily browse through notebooks occasionally trying to come up with an excuse to buy one and leaf through the crisp clean fresh pages. I get excited for kids at back-to-school time when they get to pick out new school bags and pens and trapper-keepers (um, did I just date myself?). My little Max started preschool this month. This is his third day of school today to be precise. He loves school. He's been eyeing Spider Man backpacks for weeks now and insisting that he NEEDS to get "some stuff". I really had to resist the urge. I know it will be just a blink of an eye before he is hopping on the school bus out front and waving to me with his Spider Man backpack on. On that day I will get my fix of school stuff. 'Till that day, I will be more than happy with my almost-four-year-old's crafts from Morse Zoo School and his "award" that reads "Good job following directions, Max". And while my little man is working hard at his numbers and letters maybe I will go bake an apple pie.