Monday, April 17, 2017
"No. You May NOT Smack Your Sister With a Bible."
Easter has come and gone. It culminated with the first Baseball practice of the season also falling on Holy Thursday. Since I occasionally try to not go to hell, I thought it would be a good thing if I hit up church that evening. Kaila and Lexi came with me, and, as we settled into our pew, I thought how nice it would be to have an entire church experience that did not involve keeping George under control. He can read now, and loves to look at me with a smirk as he sings all the responses in the most sarcastic and loud opera voice he can manage, while mimicking the hand movements of the priest. Or, the new favorite "Mom. It says here not to take this book out of the pew." holds out outside the pew into the aisle "It's outside the pew mom." "Knock it off, George."
I also did not have to try and keep Bearded Man awake, either. It was kind of a double win. So, it was with resignation that, after hearing one of my teenage daughters whisper to the other fiercely "Where's a Bible??? Cuz I need to smack you with it!" that I made them move to either side of me. I honestly had to separate my teens in church. To clarify: no one was actually smacked with a bible. Or even without a bible.
Saturday morning brought the long awaited news that April the Giraffe was finally *really* in labor this time, so, we tuned it to watch it. The kids were willing more because it procrastinated "clean the house day" than any other reason. Still. Educational and all that. The boys were not excited about this at all, and were in the midst of yet another argument:
"JOE! LEAVE GEORGE ALONE!"
"But, he's CHEATING at the game Sorry!!!!!"
"JOSEPH! He is playing. by. himself. It. does. not. matter."
"Cheating is cheating mom!"
"Seriously! STOP! We are trying to watch the miracle of life over here!!!!"
"I do not enjoy Ah Sib Anya, Mom."
"What is Ah Sib Anya?"
"You know. That song at the beginning of The Lion King?"
At which point the girls, began to belt out the opening song of the Lion King, that begins with something that really does sound like "Ahhhhhh Sib Anya!!!!!!!!" (The Circle of Life Song)
The same child stumbled down the stairs this morning as I was headed off to work. "I was lying in bed thinking, Mom. I need to go find the Periodic Table. I need to look at some elements."
"Okay Joe. Have a good day."
"Thanks, Mom."
Easter Sunday began around 3am. "Mom?" called George from my bedroom doorway, "I just had to go downstairs to go potty, and, I don't think the Easter Bunny came this year. There is nothing down there!"
"George. Honey. I am pretty sure he probably did, and just hid everything."
"How do you know *He* is not a *she*, Mom." he demanded suspiciously.
"George. I am not debating the gender of the Easter Bunny with you right now. Go back to bed."
"I don't think I was done going potty. I better go back downstairs and go again now."
Anyhow, eventually all the Easter Baskets were found. Normally the parental units (as we are referred to by Kaila) are notified before imminent Easter/Birthday/Christmas stuff commences, but, this year, the kids found everything on their own. We were honestly kind of happy to be allowed to sleep a little extra.
After church this year, we arrived home to find that the two little boys next door had received new bikes. Of course George went over to inspect them and wondered aloud why there were Walmart stickers on them. Anyhow, the mother of the boys next door, my poor tiny little neighbor, whom we torment mercilessly about her petite height, mourned to me that she had looked into buying a new bike for herself, too, but, the only bikes that fit her height were outfitted with tassels and baskets and Disney characters. Easter Sunday or not, I laughed pretty hard, and assured her we would love nothing more than to see her riding a tasseled Barbie Bike around town.
Easter is probably my very favorite holiday. It is historically spent at our house with my little sister and her kids. This year, we had the added bonus of my nephew who lives out of state, and his wife and daughter visiting! They arrived just as a rain deluge was finishing, and my yard was slightly flooded ("SEE??? FLOODING!!!!!" Pointed out Bearded Man. "Oh, shush.") George and Joe, fully clothed, were splashing, and running in the water/mud of the yard, as well as lying in, rolling around in, and doing belly flops into the water/mud of the yard. "This is sort of typical" I tried to warn them. And we then proceeded to have a seriously fun afternoon. Which was topped off with a visit from the Easter Bunny. George and my nephew's daughter came running into the house waving bags of homemade chocolates, screaming that the Easter Bunny had just come. Running outside, sure enough, there was an Easter Bunny walking over to a house down the street where a little girl lives, Easter Basket full of homemade chocolates in hand/paw. We watched in amazement as the Easter Bunny, seeing us, came back and handed out bags of chocolates to everyone present, and then indicated we should probably take pictures. So, we did.
George pointed out after that, the Easter Bunny had a pink belly and pink shoes on, and was definitely a GIRL, so, I was wrong about it being a boy.
Anyhow. It was a fantastic weekend. George's toe will probably not need to be amputated. Nobody got smacked with a bible - not even Bearded Man when he slept thru the Easter Sunday sermon, the boys got gloriously muddy, I got to see my nephew and his family for the first time in years, and, it was overall a hugely fun day.
Till next time!
Monday, April 10, 2017
Fighting with Bearded Man.
My sister came for a visit the other day. She walked through the door and commented how relaxed I looked, curled up in my chair with a glass of wine. I was trying to read the Book Club book selection, and it was at a particularly heartbreaking part, so, I had poured some wine to try and get through it. Also, the wine was really really good, and, after half a bottle of it, I didn't have anymore desire to read the book anymore that afternoon.
Anyhow, I told my sister that this was the first time I had been in my recliner for more than ten minutes in longer than I can remember, because, I am never ever home. And, if I am home, I am supposed to be doing something. And if I sit down, then, the guilt of all the things I should be doing piles up and I can't enjoy it anyway. I went on with "And, I could not go tanning today."
"Why couldn't you go tanning, Ri?" asked my sister in resignation.
"Because, I couldn't leave Jasin alone for half an hour."
"Why couldn't you leave Jasin alone for half an hour, Ri?"
"Here we go." grumbled Jasin.
"Because," I said, gulping more wine, "He was in a bad mood. And, I was in a bad mood. And neither one of us wanted to be doing the grocery shopping anyway. And, when we arrived at Wal Mart, there was this older lady walking right down the middle of the parking lane, and I couldn't get around her. Jasin got SO. MAD! He wanted to honk the horn at her, and wanted to lean out the window and yell at her, but, I was driving and I wouldn't let him. I mean - really? What is the hurry????"
"I gotta say, I am with Jasin on this one. I HATE when people do that. I can't even deal with it." my sister said.
"SEE???? IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!!" Yelled Jasin.
"WHAT IF her husband was in the hospital, and she was all sad and preoccupied??? Did you ever think of THAT?" I yelled back
"THEN SHE SHOULD BE AT THE HOSPITAL WITH HIM!!!!!" Bearded Man shot back
"FINE! WHAT IF SHE JUST HAD TO PUT HER SICK CAT TO SLEEP, BECAUSE HE WAS SICK AND SHE WAS SAD?????? "
"If she is THAT sad, then she shouldn't even be DRIVING!!!!!"
"What if her poor husband had just DIED and she was buying FUNERAL CLOTHES????"
"WHO RUNS OUT AND BUYS FUNERAL CLOTHES RIGHT AFTER SOMEONE DIES?????"
"EVERY WOMAN EVERYWHERE, THAT'S WHO!!!!!!!!! WHAT IF HER GRANDSON IN CALIFORNIA IS SICK, AND SHE'S UPSET SHE CAN'T AFFORD TO GO THERE????"
"BORROW THE DAMN MONEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"GUYS!" Interrupted my sister as we were shouting at each other, "You realize you are fighting over fictional stories that did not happen, right?"
"Oh, we didn't even GET to the FLOODING." I snapped crossly.
"IT COULD HAPPEN!!!!" Yelled Bearded Man
"They literally came home like this" interrupted Lexi
"Really?" sympathized my sister "Ri. Explain the flooding...?"
"Well, all we did was argue the most of the time we were in the vehicle. If I said one thing, he said another, just to argue, and we were both just so mad at each other. At Wal Mart, I think we are on some kind of security flag, because we keep getting followed around by security when we are there - and we've never even DONE anything! And sure enough, while I was looking for something over in the seasonal department, I heard a thing on the loud speaker about a security issue "401" or something in Sporting Goods, and sure enough, Jasin ended up with yet ANOTHER security person yelling at him for standing there looking at something for too long. And, of course, we always get followed around the store. It's awful. So, that didn't help out tempers AT. ALL. God, I hate Walmart!"
"Flooding?"
"Oh. Yes. So, after the whole security thing - AGAIN - we were driving home and in a WORSE mood, and just spitting at each other over EVERYTHING, and, suddenly he says "I want to live up there - way up high on a hill, so I don't have to deal with flooding." and I said "Our house has been in the same place since 1875 with zero flooding issues. I don't think we really need to worry about it. And then he was all mad and said MAYBE the creek on ELM STREET could flood, and cause damage. And I was all "Really Jasin???? It is like half a mile away, and has never gotten anywhere near our house!" and he said "WELL IT COULD!!!!!" and I was all "For heaven's sake, Jasin, we aren't going to get flooded!" and he was all "Well, maybe the creek on RIVERSIDE could flood!!!!!!" and I said again that it was probably not going to happen. And then HE was all "IT'S SAFER ON A DAMN HILL!!!!" So I was like "YOU COULD GET HIT BY LIGHTENING ON A HILL!!!!!" And he said "THE TREES WILL GET HIT BEFORE I WILL!!!!!" and I said "THE TREES COULD FALL ON THE HOUSE!!!!" and he said "I WILL. CUT. THE. DAMN. TREES. AWAY. FROM. THE. DAMN. HOUSE!!!!!" and I said "GOOD! THEN YOU will get HIT BY THE LIGHTNING!!!!" and then HE said "How am I going to get hit by lightning?????" and I said "THE GOOD LORD WILL PROVIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
My sister was laughing so hard she was crying at this point. "So, ,you two fought all day about NON EXISTANT things???? Like, really? Non existent flooding and you told him the Lord would provide a lightning strike to Jasin???"
"We were SO mad at each other, that when we got home, car doors slammed, the front door slammed, groceries were brought in and slammed on the counter and we were both not even speaking to each other." I said. "The kids asked if everything was okay, and Jasin yelled "GO CLEAN SOMETHING!!!!!" and they didn't ask anymore.
The more I explained this, the more absurd it became, as my sister once again pointed out we were barely speaking over stuff that had not happened. I started to laugh so hard I was crying, as I told her that we went over a bridge on the way home where the water levels were above normal, and snidely said "Oh look, Jasin! FLOODING! Better get home and prepare." At which point the language took a turn for the PG-13 crowd.
Jasin and I were both laughing so hard we couldn't talk by the end of this story. My sister was incredulous that this had even happened.
"Ummmmm, Mom? Dad?" ventured Lexi, "Why don't you build the house in the MIDDLE of the hill? Away from lightning and flooding both?" Which is a perfectly reasonable solution for our non existent house, I suppose.
Anyhow. I am trying to decide if I should contact Walmart and ask what the heck is up with the constant security detail, or, just continue to not go there if it can be avoided. Honestly, it's become pretty awful. All I can think is that we must look shifty? I have not stolen anything since I was six years old, and I took 2 whistle pop suckers from Bell's Grocery store, and my mom found them hidden under my pillow. I was spanked within an inch of my life, and then marched into Bells, where I was forced to apologize and admit to my terrible theft to the management, which, to date, is still one of the most humiliating memories I can recall.
I am always nice to the Walmart employees, and, I even am nice through gritted teeth as the new security detail at all the exits goes through receipts and the content of all the carts, which causes a huge backup, and it's always brawny looking mean men who now have ear pieces attached to curly wires hidden under their shirts just like Secret Service men and the FBI. At that point, EVERYONE is treated like a dirty thief and glared at suspiciously, so, I guess for a few moments, it's not just us. Still. It's aggravating as all get out. If I am going to get followed around by security every other time I am at Walmart, the LEAST They can do is offer to pick up my 50# bags of dog food. Mostly though, they just glare at us suspiciously. They don't even try to hide the fact that they are following us anymore. We just accept that it's going to happen, and try to ignore them all. If I had ANY brains, I would go around buying embarrassing and suspicious things like condoms and bullets and duct tape and rope and garbage cans. But, why anger the Security beast? I just don't have time for that nonsense.
Ah well. Till next time!
Anyhow, I told my sister that this was the first time I had been in my recliner for more than ten minutes in longer than I can remember, because, I am never ever home. And, if I am home, I am supposed to be doing something. And if I sit down, then, the guilt of all the things I should be doing piles up and I can't enjoy it anyway. I went on with "And, I could not go tanning today."
"Why couldn't you go tanning, Ri?" asked my sister in resignation.
"Because, I couldn't leave Jasin alone for half an hour."
"Why couldn't you leave Jasin alone for half an hour, Ri?"
"Here we go." grumbled Jasin.
"Because," I said, gulping more wine, "He was in a bad mood. And, I was in a bad mood. And neither one of us wanted to be doing the grocery shopping anyway. And, when we arrived at Wal Mart, there was this older lady walking right down the middle of the parking lane, and I couldn't get around her. Jasin got SO. MAD! He wanted to honk the horn at her, and wanted to lean out the window and yell at her, but, I was driving and I wouldn't let him. I mean - really? What is the hurry????"
"I gotta say, I am with Jasin on this one. I HATE when people do that. I can't even deal with it." my sister said.
"SEE???? IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!!" Yelled Jasin.
"WHAT IF her husband was in the hospital, and she was all sad and preoccupied??? Did you ever think of THAT?" I yelled back
"THEN SHE SHOULD BE AT THE HOSPITAL WITH HIM!!!!!" Bearded Man shot back
"FINE! WHAT IF SHE JUST HAD TO PUT HER SICK CAT TO SLEEP, BECAUSE HE WAS SICK AND SHE WAS SAD?????? "
"If she is THAT sad, then she shouldn't even be DRIVING!!!!!"
"What if her poor husband had just DIED and she was buying FUNERAL CLOTHES????"
"WHO RUNS OUT AND BUYS FUNERAL CLOTHES RIGHT AFTER SOMEONE DIES?????"
"EVERY WOMAN EVERYWHERE, THAT'S WHO!!!!!!!!! WHAT IF HER GRANDSON IN CALIFORNIA IS SICK, AND SHE'S UPSET SHE CAN'T AFFORD TO GO THERE????"
"BORROW THE DAMN MONEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"GUYS!" Interrupted my sister as we were shouting at each other, "You realize you are fighting over fictional stories that did not happen, right?"
"Oh, we didn't even GET to the FLOODING." I snapped crossly.
"IT COULD HAPPEN!!!!" Yelled Bearded Man
"They literally came home like this" interrupted Lexi
"Really?" sympathized my sister "Ri. Explain the flooding...?"
"Well, all we did was argue the most of the time we were in the vehicle. If I said one thing, he said another, just to argue, and we were both just so mad at each other. At Wal Mart, I think we are on some kind of security flag, because we keep getting followed around by security when we are there - and we've never even DONE anything! And sure enough, while I was looking for something over in the seasonal department, I heard a thing on the loud speaker about a security issue "401" or something in Sporting Goods, and sure enough, Jasin ended up with yet ANOTHER security person yelling at him for standing there looking at something for too long. And, of course, we always get followed around the store. It's awful. So, that didn't help out tempers AT. ALL. God, I hate Walmart!"
"Flooding?"
"Oh. Yes. So, after the whole security thing - AGAIN - we were driving home and in a WORSE mood, and just spitting at each other over EVERYTHING, and, suddenly he says "I want to live up there - way up high on a hill, so I don't have to deal with flooding." and I said "Our house has been in the same place since 1875 with zero flooding issues. I don't think we really need to worry about it. And then he was all mad and said MAYBE the creek on ELM STREET could flood, and cause damage. And I was all "Really Jasin???? It is like half a mile away, and has never gotten anywhere near our house!" and he said "WELL IT COULD!!!!!" and I was all "For heaven's sake, Jasin, we aren't going to get flooded!" and he was all "Well, maybe the creek on RIVERSIDE could flood!!!!!!" and I said again that it was probably not going to happen. And then HE was all "IT'S SAFER ON A DAMN HILL!!!!" So I was like "YOU COULD GET HIT BY LIGHTENING ON A HILL!!!!!" And he said "THE TREES WILL GET HIT BEFORE I WILL!!!!!" and I said "THE TREES COULD FALL ON THE HOUSE!!!!" and he said "I WILL. CUT. THE. DAMN. TREES. AWAY. FROM. THE. DAMN. HOUSE!!!!!" and I said "GOOD! THEN YOU will get HIT BY THE LIGHTNING!!!!" and then HE said "How am I going to get hit by lightning?????" and I said "THE GOOD LORD WILL PROVIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
My sister was laughing so hard she was crying at this point. "So, ,you two fought all day about NON EXISTANT things???? Like, really? Non existent flooding and you told him the Lord would provide a lightning strike to Jasin???"
"We were SO mad at each other, that when we got home, car doors slammed, the front door slammed, groceries were brought in and slammed on the counter and we were both not even speaking to each other." I said. "The kids asked if everything was okay, and Jasin yelled "GO CLEAN SOMETHING!!!!!" and they didn't ask anymore.
The more I explained this, the more absurd it became, as my sister once again pointed out we were barely speaking over stuff that had not happened. I started to laugh so hard I was crying, as I told her that we went over a bridge on the way home where the water levels were above normal, and snidely said "Oh look, Jasin! FLOODING! Better get home and prepare." At which point the language took a turn for the PG-13 crowd.
Jasin and I were both laughing so hard we couldn't talk by the end of this story. My sister was incredulous that this had even happened.
"Ummmmm, Mom? Dad?" ventured Lexi, "Why don't you build the house in the MIDDLE of the hill? Away from lightning and flooding both?" Which is a perfectly reasonable solution for our non existent house, I suppose.
Anyhow. I am trying to decide if I should contact Walmart and ask what the heck is up with the constant security detail, or, just continue to not go there if it can be avoided. Honestly, it's become pretty awful. All I can think is that we must look shifty? I have not stolen anything since I was six years old, and I took 2 whistle pop suckers from Bell's Grocery store, and my mom found them hidden under my pillow. I was spanked within an inch of my life, and then marched into Bells, where I was forced to apologize and admit to my terrible theft to the management, which, to date, is still one of the most humiliating memories I can recall.
I am always nice to the Walmart employees, and, I even am nice through gritted teeth as the new security detail at all the exits goes through receipts and the content of all the carts, which causes a huge backup, and it's always brawny looking mean men who now have ear pieces attached to curly wires hidden under their shirts just like Secret Service men and the FBI. At that point, EVERYONE is treated like a dirty thief and glared at suspiciously, so, I guess for a few moments, it's not just us. Still. It's aggravating as all get out. If I am going to get followed around by security every other time I am at Walmart, the LEAST They can do is offer to pick up my 50# bags of dog food. Mostly though, they just glare at us suspiciously. They don't even try to hide the fact that they are following us anymore. We just accept that it's going to happen, and try to ignore them all. If I had ANY brains, I would go around buying embarrassing and suspicious things like condoms and bullets and duct tape and rope and garbage cans. But, why anger the Security beast? I just don't have time for that nonsense.
Ah well. Till next time!
Monday, April 3, 2017
Minivan Soccer Mom
Update on the hair: It still looks fabulous. My sister keeps threatening to move to Tennessee. (Something about unicorns and glitter and raindrops made of vodka or some such thing.) If my sister moves to Tennessee, then, I will probably have to re-locate with her. I have waited almost forty years for good hair. Even if I don't like vodka.
Update on my sister's hamster. It continues to escape every single thing they try to cage it in, and, continues to want to live in the wall. Where it then proceeds to spend all day and all night every day and every night, digging in the wall. Which is enough to drive even the sanest of people crazy. Well, except for the one time when it was not in her wall, but, her son woke up with the hamster on his face. I am not even kidding, it has the biggest, creepiest teeth I have ever seen. (I don't think the hamster will make the possible move to Tennessee with my sister.) She recently put the hamster cage outside, because the weather was nice (And probably because she was hoping that it would escape OUTSIDE) and it did, in fact escape. But, her cat, "Meow" went looking for her friend, the hamster, and, after three days, brought it back home. When my sister let the cat in last night, the hamster came in with her, and, he ran right back into the wall. My sister called me half laughing half crying. I actually put her on speaker phone, so we could all enjoy the story straight from the source.
Yesterday I vaguely noted a Facebook post about soccer sign ups scheduled for last evening. I saw it, but then forgot about it, because my kids haven't really shown much interest in soccer, and, it is scheduled to take place on the heels of baseball season, and, we have Boy Scout and Cub Scout related stuff too, and, also, it would probably really take a chunk out of my husky walking evening strolls around town. So, forgetting promptly about it, I came home from work, donned sweats, snuggled into my chair to the rhythm of pouring rain, and happily thought of an evening tucked in with a book.
George heard something about it at school, however, and will big blue eyes begging, my ball of constant energy asked if he could play soccer this year. So, the sneakers were dragged back on, and, my and my checkbook wandered over to soccer sign ups in the rain. I pulled up to the coach's house, and noted with interest that there were no less than five minivans parked at this house, as moms signed their kids up for soccer. As a minivan owner, I guess it's pretty much an accepted unwritten rule, that you are obligated to be a soccer mom if you drive one. I text a friend of mine to see if her kids were signing up too, and, she said they weren't. Well, she doesn't drive a minivan, so, technically she isn't part of the soccer mom club...
Since these things can never be written consecutively, I need to confess that an entire weekend has passed since I was able to continue this.
That being said: This past weekend was as crazy as usual. After being out all day with a friend, as we hit up several things in Buffalo, (Can we say craft show and butter lambs and wine???? It was such a good day!) I came home, fed everyone, and, once again tried to curl up in my chair with a book. I announced that I had zero intention of leaving my chair or my house until at least tomorrow. The boys went outside to play, and I was enjoying the relative peace. It didn't last long, because, I jumped about four feet into the air at the sound of an explosion, as a baseball came sailing through the window.
I whipped outside, and started to yell at the boys, as the wind blew through the hole in the living room where the window had been. The boys though, agreed completely that this was not good. They both proceeded to take complete blame for the broken window. (Apparently George threw a baseball, which Joe then hit with a bat, and here we are.) George insisted that it was his fault, because it was his idea to practice, and, Joe insisted it was his fault because he had been the one to hit the ball. Both insisted that they were responsible, and both insisted on taking complete blame as well as any beatings. I laughed outright. I do not beat my kids. I threaten to beat them regularly, but, I am just not able to hit them. They are the most unbeaten kids anywhere, so, I do not know why they both thought it was coming now.
(Side note here - they heard a story one time about someone who had a wooden spoon that she used to spank her kids with. That person called it "The Happy Spoon". My kids were so fascinated by this story that they confiscated the biggest wooden spoon I had at the time, drew an evil smiley face on it, and called it the Happy Spoon. For years, they would cry if they were in trouble, begging that I not use the Happy Spoon - That had never been my idea, nor have I ever used it. They scared themselves to death with that spoon. It's still in my kitchen....)
Anyhow, I was, in fact, dragged out of my chair and out of my house and away from my book, into the cold night, so we could hustle to the Home Depot before closing, to go buy a new window.
The book I have been trying to read is causing all sorts of stress in my life. Someone local started a Book Club. I thought that was a wonderful idea, as, I have thought about having one for years now. It was so wonderful that someone took the initiative and started it! (The starter of this club, by the way, is no one other than Perfect Mom herself. I recently told her I think of her as "Perfect Mom" and I don't think she believed me. Mostly I am pretty sure she thinks I am an idiot.)
We will have our first gathering in May, and a book was selected. I need to backtrack for two seconds here, and mention that, I work a fairly high stress job. It is so very very hard some days, to shift from high alert nurse, who is juggling four dozen things at once, as well as a largely mental health patient population, to, Mom who needs to keep the laundry done and get dinner on the table, and not take my job stresses home. It is a very fine line sometimes. So, when I DO have a few minutes to sit with a book, I tend to keep it very light on purpose, because I work very hard to not bring horrors home with me. It's called escapism. It's what keeps me sane.
The first book selected is messing with me in a bad way. It's a Jodi Piccult book written in 2007 about a school shooting - and written to look at it from all perspectives. I am seeing so many parallels to the school in the book and my own kids' school. I also can't stop reading it from a work perspective. I have dreamt about this book. I have talked a lot about this book. I have thought constantly about this book. I have so many thoughts about this book. This book is everything that I try so hard to NOT deal with when I am at home.
The thing about a book club that I never ever thought about was: we might not all like the book that is selected. Already, I am reading it while thinking "You will bring Texas Sheet Brownies to this function, and you WILL. NOT. SAY. ONE. WORD." because, sometimes, it's best to just shut up. something I have not yet been able to master in nearly forty years of life, but, am hoping to before May. I know. I know that I could decline this book and then just maybe start with the next one. But, at this point, I need the closure of finishing this book. Also, I really want to hear what all the other readers thought of it.
I suppose, at the end of the day really, that, this was the perfect book. It inspired thinking and talking (and dreaming!) and is probably the best book to start with in a book club. I honestly cannot wait to hear the general discussion about it. One comment so far as bothered me though - someone mentioned on Facebook "Since this is a book about children and parenting..." And I found myself yelling "WHAT??? WHAT ABOUT THE SCHOOL??? THEY WERE JUST AS AT FAULT - IF NOT MORE!!!! THAN THOSE PARENTS WERE!!!!!!!" Ugh. Anyhow. We now have a book club in Franklinville. And I plan to finish this book and be a calm and collected and grown up person at the Book Club meeting. I told Bearded Man that this book was really messing with me, and I was half afraid to go to the meeting with such an unpopular opinion. He said "Isn't your friend Rhonda going? She is really nice and somebody that everyone likes and who would be all calm and sound smart and stuff. Just sit by her and don't talk to anyone else. She seems to be able to listen to you." Which sounds horrible, but, he knows me well.
Anyhow. That's pretty much it for now. All that gossip about a book club, while I plan my last two Sunday School Classes - which is why I am going to hell this week.
Take care!
Wednesday, March 22, 2017
My Sister the Hair Master
This has been the week of the hair. Having a sister who does hair professionally has been nothing but a Godsend for us. My sister is sort of like that Soup Nazi on Seinfeld - she decides on your hair. If you don't like it - no new hair for you.
Saying this, I need to mention that I took my boys for haircuts last Thursday, as they resembled wild jungle beasts more than little boys. I planned to zip in and zip out. My sister, however, looked at my hair, marched into a back room, marched back out, tossed a book full of color swatches at me and told me to pick a new color, as, I was not leaving till she made me presentable again. Joe actually decided on the latest color, and my sister agreed, and added hi-lites to it, snipped away with her scissors and - BAM! New hair, just like that.
Only, things like this take time, and I had two hungry boys with me, so, I decided to order pizza to be delivered to the salon so my boys did not die of the starvation they decided was imminent. A call was placed to a local pizzeria. My order was placed. Delivery was requested.
"Okay. And, what's your address?"
"Oh! Ummm. I don't know the street address here, but, we are in the Save A Lot plaza, behind the Burger King, at that salon there."
".............. I need the address."
"I really really don't know the actual address. I am very sorry. But, seriously, it's really like two miles from there, in the Save A Lot plaza parking lot, in that little building behind Burger King on the Valu Home Center end of the plaza."
"Ummmmm. I just need the address."
"For real? Okay. Brianna, do you know the street address here?"
"No, sorry, I don't."
"Route 16 Yorkshire?"
"I just really think I need that address."
"O.M.G. I have my hair wrapped in tin foil, and am in no shape to come pick this pizza up. You REALLY don't know where Save A Lot or Burger King are????"
"I guess we'll have to find it. It will be at least an hour."
One hour and twenty minutes later, and a very nice young man brought us pizza and the boys did not die of starvation. (In retrospect, I probably should have handed the boys money and told them to run over to Burger King and get something...)
Upon arrival home, Kaila looked at me reproachfully. "Mom. You KNOW I need my hair done. The grays are out of control." (Because, yes, my 15 year old is sporting gray hair. Not a lot, but, enough to freak her out.)
So, she called her aunt and scheduled an appointment for last night to get her hair done too. We were smart, and ate dinner ahead of time.
We need to backtrack for a moment here. I bought a Fitbit several years ago. It was great. I would throw it in my pocket and get on with my day. It was just always there, and really helped keep me on track. Fast forward to a few months ago when I was really sick for two months, and I, in my brain fogged haze, washed and dried the Fitbit and killed it. I didn't realize how much I would miss it, until I didn't have it. So, this past weekend, I went out and bought a Fitbit wrist model. While I am not sure I like it as much as I liked the older one, I have been wearing it to try and bond with it anyhow. It doesn't flash creepy messages like the old one did. I miss "I love you Moriah" and, "Kisses Moriah!" and "Hugs Moriah" and "You Rock Moriah!" and stuff like that. So, I have this new one. And it tells me I need to walk 250 steps every hour. Last night, while Kaila's hair was processing, my wrist vibrated with my walking reminder, and, I kid you not, no questions asked, my sister walked laps around her salon with me in freezing weather, and never questioned why we were doing this. She's awesome that way.
When all is said and done though, we all have fabulous hair. I need to say this because "MORIAH! STOP POSTING ON FACEBOOK ALL THE TIME THAT YOUR HAIR LOOKS LOUSY! IT IS NOT MY FAULT YOU CANNOT DO YOUR OWN HAIR AFTER I MAKE IT NICE FOR YOU!!!! IT IS NOT GOOD FOR MY PROFESSIONAL REPUTATION WHEN YOU ARE ALWAYS WHINING ABOUT YOUR BAD HAIR!!!! USE PRODUCTS AND A HAIR DRIER FOR GODSAKE!!!!!!!" So, this is me, publicly saying that my sister is a master when it comes to hair, however, I am not.
Also of note lately are books. As in: I have three library books I really want to read. I am halfway through one of them. It is one of those wonderful books that begs a comfy chair, a blanket, a cup of tea and a few hours of reading time. This book just rolls along smoothly and I can picture every single detail in my head. I swear, every single time I pick it up, at home or at work on a break, there is someone in need of my immediate attention for typically non emergent things. I just want to read my book uninterrupted.
As I say this, I need to mention the new Book Club. Someone in Franklinville threw the question out there - is anyone interested in starting a book club? And there was a crazy amount of enthusiastic interest, so, a book, time and meeting place were selected. I am pretty sure half the ladies of Franklinville will be getting their Amazon delivery of the first book selection sometime today, myself included.
Which means I have another book to read - typically good news! Except, this will require some uninterrupted time within the next month and a half, to read it. Also, Kaila has decided it sounds like a good book, so, I suspect my new book will go the same way as my eye liner, deodorant, eye pencil sharpener, boots, and all the other stuff that has mysteriously found a new home with my eldest.
Last thing to mention: Joe has announced he intends to get dual Doctorate degrees. One in math, and one in some sort of science - possibly nuclear, as he loves it so much. He asked me if I knew what the best colleges were for these Doctorates, and I dutifully printed off 30 pages of the best "STEM" Colleges to begin this process. I handed them to Joseph last night (before the latest hair appointment) and he looked at me and said these were nice, but he needed STEAM colleges, as, he and Lexi are sticking with their college plan. Since they are only just over a year apart in age, they had decided long ago that they will attend the same college and split the cost of an apartment and share a vehicle and work part time jobs to pay for it all - which would make it all possible with both of them sharing everything. Anyhow, Joe requires a college that will accommodate Lexi's artistic pursuits as well. Also, they have agreed that since it's college, and parties are basically expected of them, they have set responsible ground rules in which they both need to agree upon said party before it is allowed, and, that it will never be allowed to be on a school night or interfere with work obligations.
Now that we have the basics set - majors, apartments, jobs, cars, parties - we just need to find a college that will accommodate them. Thankfully I have a few years before we need to worry about it too much. They seem to have it all under control though, so, I really have nothing to worry about at all, right?
Also, Lexi has begun studying the Driver's Road Test handbook in preparation for her permit in three years.
Meanwhile, Kaila, who will be 16 in less than three months has not gotten past page 7. I am told that the first 4 pages are not actually part of the book, so, she has really not gotten past the introduction as far as I know. I did hear that at one point it was under her pillow, and inquired if she had actually learned thru osmosis, but, she confirmed that no actual learning of road rules occurred in this fashion. All the children were once again reminded that they are not allowed to live at home forever, and Kaila was signed up for Driver's Ed that will be taking place this summer.
That's pretty much it. Till next time!
Saying this, I need to mention that I took my boys for haircuts last Thursday, as they resembled wild jungle beasts more than little boys. I planned to zip in and zip out. My sister, however, looked at my hair, marched into a back room, marched back out, tossed a book full of color swatches at me and told me to pick a new color, as, I was not leaving till she made me presentable again. Joe actually decided on the latest color, and my sister agreed, and added hi-lites to it, snipped away with her scissors and - BAM! New hair, just like that.
Only, things like this take time, and I had two hungry boys with me, so, I decided to order pizza to be delivered to the salon so my boys did not die of the starvation they decided was imminent. A call was placed to a local pizzeria. My order was placed. Delivery was requested.
"Okay. And, what's your address?"
"Oh! Ummm. I don't know the street address here, but, we are in the Save A Lot plaza, behind the Burger King, at that salon there."
".............. I need the address."
"I really really don't know the actual address. I am very sorry. But, seriously, it's really like two miles from there, in the Save A Lot plaza parking lot, in that little building behind Burger King on the Valu Home Center end of the plaza."
"Ummmmm. I just need the address."
"For real? Okay. Brianna, do you know the street address here?"
"No, sorry, I don't."
"Route 16 Yorkshire?"
"I just really think I need that address."
"O.M.G. I have my hair wrapped in tin foil, and am in no shape to come pick this pizza up. You REALLY don't know where Save A Lot or Burger King are????"
"I guess we'll have to find it. It will be at least an hour."
One hour and twenty minutes later, and a very nice young man brought us pizza and the boys did not die of starvation. (In retrospect, I probably should have handed the boys money and told them to run over to Burger King and get something...)
Upon arrival home, Kaila looked at me reproachfully. "Mom. You KNOW I need my hair done. The grays are out of control." (Because, yes, my 15 year old is sporting gray hair. Not a lot, but, enough to freak her out.)
So, she called her aunt and scheduled an appointment for last night to get her hair done too. We were smart, and ate dinner ahead of time.
We need to backtrack for a moment here. I bought a Fitbit several years ago. It was great. I would throw it in my pocket and get on with my day. It was just always there, and really helped keep me on track. Fast forward to a few months ago when I was really sick for two months, and I, in my brain fogged haze, washed and dried the Fitbit and killed it. I didn't realize how much I would miss it, until I didn't have it. So, this past weekend, I went out and bought a Fitbit wrist model. While I am not sure I like it as much as I liked the older one, I have been wearing it to try and bond with it anyhow. It doesn't flash creepy messages like the old one did. I miss "I love you Moriah" and, "Kisses Moriah!" and "Hugs Moriah" and "You Rock Moriah!" and stuff like that. So, I have this new one. And it tells me I need to walk 250 steps every hour. Last night, while Kaila's hair was processing, my wrist vibrated with my walking reminder, and, I kid you not, no questions asked, my sister walked laps around her salon with me in freezing weather, and never questioned why we were doing this. She's awesome that way.
When all is said and done though, we all have fabulous hair. I need to say this because "MORIAH! STOP POSTING ON FACEBOOK ALL THE TIME THAT YOUR HAIR LOOKS LOUSY! IT IS NOT MY FAULT YOU CANNOT DO YOUR OWN HAIR AFTER I MAKE IT NICE FOR YOU!!!! IT IS NOT GOOD FOR MY PROFESSIONAL REPUTATION WHEN YOU ARE ALWAYS WHINING ABOUT YOUR BAD HAIR!!!! USE PRODUCTS AND A HAIR DRIER FOR GODSAKE!!!!!!!" So, this is me, publicly saying that my sister is a master when it comes to hair, however, I am not.
Also of note lately are books. As in: I have three library books I really want to read. I am halfway through one of them. It is one of those wonderful books that begs a comfy chair, a blanket, a cup of tea and a few hours of reading time. This book just rolls along smoothly and I can picture every single detail in my head. I swear, every single time I pick it up, at home or at work on a break, there is someone in need of my immediate attention for typically non emergent things. I just want to read my book uninterrupted.
As I say this, I need to mention the new Book Club. Someone in Franklinville threw the question out there - is anyone interested in starting a book club? And there was a crazy amount of enthusiastic interest, so, a book, time and meeting place were selected. I am pretty sure half the ladies of Franklinville will be getting their Amazon delivery of the first book selection sometime today, myself included.
Which means I have another book to read - typically good news! Except, this will require some uninterrupted time within the next month and a half, to read it. Also, Kaila has decided it sounds like a good book, so, I suspect my new book will go the same way as my eye liner, deodorant, eye pencil sharpener, boots, and all the other stuff that has mysteriously found a new home with my eldest.
Last thing to mention: Joe has announced he intends to get dual Doctorate degrees. One in math, and one in some sort of science - possibly nuclear, as he loves it so much. He asked me if I knew what the best colleges were for these Doctorates, and I dutifully printed off 30 pages of the best "STEM" Colleges to begin this process. I handed them to Joseph last night (before the latest hair appointment) and he looked at me and said these were nice, but he needed STEAM colleges, as, he and Lexi are sticking with their college plan. Since they are only just over a year apart in age, they had decided long ago that they will attend the same college and split the cost of an apartment and share a vehicle and work part time jobs to pay for it all - which would make it all possible with both of them sharing everything. Anyhow, Joe requires a college that will accommodate Lexi's artistic pursuits as well. Also, they have agreed that since it's college, and parties are basically expected of them, they have set responsible ground rules in which they both need to agree upon said party before it is allowed, and, that it will never be allowed to be on a school night or interfere with work obligations.
Now that we have the basics set - majors, apartments, jobs, cars, parties - we just need to find a college that will accommodate them. Thankfully I have a few years before we need to worry about it too much. They seem to have it all under control though, so, I really have nothing to worry about at all, right?
Also, Lexi has begun studying the Driver's Road Test handbook in preparation for her permit in three years.
Meanwhile, Kaila, who will be 16 in less than three months has not gotten past page 7. I am told that the first 4 pages are not actually part of the book, so, she has really not gotten past the introduction as far as I know. I did hear that at one point it was under her pillow, and inquired if she had actually learned thru osmosis, but, she confirmed that no actual learning of road rules occurred in this fashion. All the children were once again reminded that they are not allowed to live at home forever, and Kaila was signed up for Driver's Ed that will be taking place this summer.
That's pretty much it. Till next time!
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
Chicken Cooking 101
For the last few years, our school as issued iPads to the local children for Homework purposes. I am sure some (Probably) childless person who had just recently ventured into the great wide world from a lovely fairy land, thought that this would be a brilliant idea and that children would benefit greatly with an entire world of learning at their fingertips.
The children in my household have very little actual homework for those electronic pads from hell, and we spend our days yelling at the kids to put the iPads DOWN. We have a fairly good sized house, and are completely out of hiding places for them. I think possibly the clown in the basement will be the next keeper of the iPads.
Anyhow. The boys recently asked if they could have $7.00 to upgrade Mine Craft. In what I thought was a stroke of genius, I told them I would buy it for them if they cleaned their room to "Mom Specifications". The boys immediately ran up the stairs and proceeded to bring down approximately 4,987 loads of laundry, and then decide that there had to be a better way to come up with $7.00.
They searched for spare change. And found exactly forty nine cents.
They thought maybe they could sell some of their precious Pokémon cards.
And then decided they could not. Also, they didn't know anyone who had access to seven dollars anyhow.
They pondered this over laundry, because, the rule is, if you don't bring it down stairs, and then decide to bring enough clothing to clothe every single seven and almost twelve year old boy in the state of New York down to me at once - you have to wash it yourselves.
Fast forward a few days to grocery shopping. We had Lexi with us this time, and we were loading groceries into the van, when Lexi said "Oh! Mom! I have to stop and buy an iTunes card for seven dollars for the boys!"
"WHAT? Why????"
"Oh, they were behaving really bad the other day, and I told them they had to be quiet and hold hands for ten minutes, and I would buy them a doughnut. They said they would do it for a seven dollar iTunes card, and I thought it was worth the peace, so I agreed."
So, that was vetoed on the spot. And, now the boys are still doing laundry, and we have no clean washcloths, and there is enough poorly folded and all mixed up laundry on the dining room table that is high enough to create it's own atmosphere.
Also of importance: the kids are home from school today. New York State is supposed to be getting a large snow storm. Which, in this area is also known as "Tuesday in March". But, since our Governor sent a large quantity of our plows and plow drivers to other parts of the state unable to deal with snow, and because he also closed down a lot of highways and declared a state of emergency, school closed.
So, I told the kids to please get off the iPads and clean things, and then called home to walk Lexi through the preparation of a roasting chicken.
Not sure who is more traumatized - the chicken or the children.
"Okay Lexi, turn the oven on to warm up and get out the glass pan and the foil. You want to have enough to cover the chicken."
"I need to cover the top?"
"Yes, you know, just sort of have enough that you can wrap it up like a present sort of...."
"I am confused. What?"
"Never mind. It's fine. Put the foil in the pan, Lexi."
"Okay. Now what?"
"Now you need to get the chicken out of the wrapper. Do it in the sink."
"This is disgusting. I feel like this is what it looks like during childbirth. I don't think I want to ever be part of that process. UGHHHH. This is so bad!!"
"Okay Lexi. Is it out?"
"I can't get it out! Wait. EWWWW! Yes. It's out. Put it in the pan?"
"No. I am sorry, but you need to put your hand into both ends of the chicken and pull out the innards."
"WHAT???? YOU WANT ME TO WHAT???? NO."
"yes."
"I am NOT putting my hands there! I feel unclean."
"LEXI. PUT. YOUR HAND UP THAT CHICKEN AND PULL THAT STUFF OUT!"
"JOE! Can you come here? Put your hand up the chicken's butt and get the stuff out!"
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? NO I AM NOT PUTTING MY HAND UP THE CHICKEN'S BUTT! SICKOS!"
"GEORGE! COME HERE! PUT YOUR HAND UP THE CHICKEN'S BUTT AND GET THE STUFF OUT OF IT!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! NO."
"Alexandria. Listen to me. Get your hands in there and get it out."
"Are you SURE it's dead?"
"Oh my g - YES, Lexi, the chicken is dead, I promise you. It will NOT come back to life."
"Joe? Does it look dead?"
"I do not know."
"JUST PULL THE STUFF OUT OF IT'S BUTT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!"
"Fine. I pulled it out!"
"Good. Very good."
"I feel bones in there. Want me to pull the bones out, Mom?"
"..... No, Lexi. Those are part of the chicken dear."
"Okay."
Anyhow. We walked through the rest of the chicken preparation while I mumbled "Oh look. I see Vegans. Vegans everywhere." as I thought about any of my children eating dinner tonight.
Also, while I am at it - while I tried to show Bearded Man the rage fused zipper on the new purse, it broke off entirely. I am not sure if it won, or, if it just died in defeat. Either way, my purse is now completely open to anyone who cares to inspect the contents.
The children in my household have very little actual homework for those electronic pads from hell, and we spend our days yelling at the kids to put the iPads DOWN. We have a fairly good sized house, and are completely out of hiding places for them. I think possibly the clown in the basement will be the next keeper of the iPads.
Anyhow. The boys recently asked if they could have $7.00 to upgrade Mine Craft. In what I thought was a stroke of genius, I told them I would buy it for them if they cleaned their room to "Mom Specifications". The boys immediately ran up the stairs and proceeded to bring down approximately 4,987 loads of laundry, and then decide that there had to be a better way to come up with $7.00.
They searched for spare change. And found exactly forty nine cents.
They thought maybe they could sell some of their precious Pokémon cards.
And then decided they could not. Also, they didn't know anyone who had access to seven dollars anyhow.
They pondered this over laundry, because, the rule is, if you don't bring it down stairs, and then decide to bring enough clothing to clothe every single seven and almost twelve year old boy in the state of New York down to me at once - you have to wash it yourselves.
Fast forward a few days to grocery shopping. We had Lexi with us this time, and we were loading groceries into the van, when Lexi said "Oh! Mom! I have to stop and buy an iTunes card for seven dollars for the boys!"
"WHAT? Why????"
"Oh, they were behaving really bad the other day, and I told them they had to be quiet and hold hands for ten minutes, and I would buy them a doughnut. They said they would do it for a seven dollar iTunes card, and I thought it was worth the peace, so I agreed."
So, that was vetoed on the spot. And, now the boys are still doing laundry, and we have no clean washcloths, and there is enough poorly folded and all mixed up laundry on the dining room table that is high enough to create it's own atmosphere.
Also of importance: the kids are home from school today. New York State is supposed to be getting a large snow storm. Which, in this area is also known as "Tuesday in March". But, since our Governor sent a large quantity of our plows and plow drivers to other parts of the state unable to deal with snow, and because he also closed down a lot of highways and declared a state of emergency, school closed.
So, I told the kids to please get off the iPads and clean things, and then called home to walk Lexi through the preparation of a roasting chicken.
Not sure who is more traumatized - the chicken or the children.
"Okay Lexi, turn the oven on to warm up and get out the glass pan and the foil. You want to have enough to cover the chicken."
"I need to cover the top?"
"Yes, you know, just sort of have enough that you can wrap it up like a present sort of...."
"I am confused. What?"
"Never mind. It's fine. Put the foil in the pan, Lexi."
"Okay. Now what?"
"Now you need to get the chicken out of the wrapper. Do it in the sink."
"This is disgusting. I feel like this is what it looks like during childbirth. I don't think I want to ever be part of that process. UGHHHH. This is so bad!!"
"Okay Lexi. Is it out?"
"I can't get it out! Wait. EWWWW! Yes. It's out. Put it in the pan?"
"No. I am sorry, but you need to put your hand into both ends of the chicken and pull out the innards."
"WHAT???? YOU WANT ME TO WHAT???? NO."
"yes."
"I am NOT putting my hands there! I feel unclean."
"LEXI. PUT. YOUR HAND UP THAT CHICKEN AND PULL THAT STUFF OUT!"
"JOE! Can you come here? Put your hand up the chicken's butt and get the stuff out!"
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? NO I AM NOT PUTTING MY HAND UP THE CHICKEN'S BUTT! SICKOS!"
"GEORGE! COME HERE! PUT YOUR HAND UP THE CHICKEN'S BUTT AND GET THE STUFF OUT OF IT!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! NO."
"Alexandria. Listen to me. Get your hands in there and get it out."
"Are you SURE it's dead?"
"Oh my g - YES, Lexi, the chicken is dead, I promise you. It will NOT come back to life."
"Joe? Does it look dead?"
"I do not know."
"JUST PULL THE STUFF OUT OF IT'S BUTT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!"
"Fine. I pulled it out!"
"Good. Very good."
"I feel bones in there. Want me to pull the bones out, Mom?"
"..... No, Lexi. Those are part of the chicken dear."
"Okay."
Anyhow. We walked through the rest of the chicken preparation while I mumbled "Oh look. I see Vegans. Vegans everywhere." as I thought about any of my children eating dinner tonight.
Also, while I am at it - while I tried to show Bearded Man the rage fused zipper on the new purse, it broke off entirely. I am not sure if it won, or, if it just died in defeat. Either way, my purse is now completely open to anyone who cares to inspect the contents.
Friday, March 10, 2017
Mama Buys a Purse
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Customer Review
 Purse related Trauma.
,
Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Realer Women's Handbag Tote Purse Shoulder Bag Pu Leather Fashion Top Handle Designer Bags for Ladies
I rarely leave bad reviews - who wants a business to take that PR hit? But, I think I need to leave one now. I really needed a larger bag - but not quite a tote - and hated everything at the local businesses here. I wanted something really unique. I saw this beautiful bag on Amazon, and bought it on the spot. I mean - LOOK at it! It's gorgeous! Overall, it seemed to have a high rating, so, I couldn't wait to have it in my hands. My daughters and I oooo'd and aaaahhhh'd over the bag when it arrived only a few days later. After reading the Amazon reviews, I knew right away that the charm was poorly made, and that there was no point in even attaching it to the purse. Sure enough - the links are made of plastic, and it didn't look very durable. Still, the purse was pretty, and I regretfully handed the charm to my daughters figuring the bag itself was pretty enough that I didn't need the charm anyway. I then promptly came down with the flu, and the bag sat for 2 days while I tried to stay with the living long enough to give my pretty new purse a try. Seriously. It was like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. This morning, after deciding I was probably going to live, I got ready for work, and thought I had enough time to quickly switch the contents of my old purse to my beautiful new purse. Even the fact that I probably wouldn't be able to really throw it over my shoulder like I am used to, due to short handles, did not dissuade me from the excitement of owning probably the prettiest purse I have ever had. After nearly 40 years of life, I thought I had finally made my first fashion "hit". Opening the purse, I realized right away that, while I certainly loved this purse, the zipper clearly did not. It was obviously trying to run as far away as possible from the purse. That is really the only conclusion I can come to, after seeing that it is attached in the oddest way possible - partly on the purse, partly off the purse, hanging more to one side than the other, and, not quite closing the entire purse. Clearly I had caught it just as it was going to detatch completely, and, as far as I could tell, slither across the dining room floor to freedom. Well, I was on to it, and stuffed my things into it anyhow. Carefully placing my purse "must haves" in just so. Nearly running late for work, I attempted to close it. With my 4 children looking on, I tried. And tried. And tried some more. The zipper, furious that I had stifled it's near escape, refused to move. It stuck. It tugged. It fought until we were both exhausted. I was pretty determined, and didn't care if I was late for work, so, I won in the end. It got the last laugh though, because it then completely split open. Right down the middle. From the closed position. Rolling my eyes, and trying to figure out how I could make this bag work anyhow, as, I really really love it, but, not enough to leave it gaping open at the local Wal Mart as an invitation to all would be persons who like to liberate contents of purses, I placed it in my vehicle and drove to work. I stopped for a cup of tea, and, once at the drive thru window, attempted to open my purse so that I could pay the nice young lady at the window. The zipper, still angry over the earlier fight, and not willing to give up, refused completely, to open properly. The open part from where it split, was not wide enough to remove my wallet thru. With morning rush hour cars lining up behind me at the local Tim Hortons, I smiled apologetically at the suddenly not as nice young lady at the window, and firmly yanked the zipper while mumbling threats to it quietly. If finally relented and I was able to pay for my tea. Once arrive at work, we had another argument over whether or not it was going to allow me to remove my work - keys from my purse, and we had a firm talking to in the parking lot. Once safely inside, I threw it in the storage cabinet above my desk, and tried to get on with my day. I brought it out to show a co-worker a while later, and, as we gazed in awe at this beautiful bag, the zipper contemptuously split open again. "You should return it" , my co-worker advised. "I CAN'T! I love it so much! There has to be a way!!!" I wailed in protest.
And, that, is where we leave off. I have now been using this purse for precisely five hours. The charm was too flimsy to attach. The zipper has rage issues. I am unable to open, or, if open, close the purse. It clearly does not like me. I am wondering if there is a way to possibly detach the zipper and think up an esthetically pleasing way to open and close this bag without being banned from the local Tim Hortons, or, heaven forbid, get pulled over for a traffic stop, and try to explain to an officer as to why I cannot possibly present him with the required documentation, due to psychological issues related to my purse. As much as I love this beautiful item, I am unsure of any practical ability to use this purse for the use that I assume it was supposed to be related.
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Thursday, March 2, 2017
Ashes Come From Where??
The Lenten Season has begun. Because I am constantly talking about my direct path to hell for eternity, I figured we should all go to Ash Wednesday mass. Brownie points and stuff. So, this in mind, I whipped up an off the cuff meatless meal that I hadn't pre-planned, and which everyone hated, as per the usual standard operating procedure in my house, and dragged them all to church last night.
Because we screeched in at the very last possible moment, we rushed into the church to find it was packed, and there were no pews that would fit the entire family. So, Jasin graciously offered to take Joe, and sit a few pews ahead of us, and I, like usual wrestled George for an hour. While watching the Bearded Man take a nice nap throughout the sermon.
As we all gathered to go get the ashes on our foreheads, Kaila whispered to me "Mom? What are the ashes made of?"
"People who sleep through church."
"*gasp* MOM! You are a very bad person!"
And, just like that, there went my brownie points.
Anyhow. We are running on crazy schedules this week, as, it seems there has been something scheduled every single evening, with no plans to stop in the near future. This has caused the laundry situation in our household to become very dire, and, we are collectively out of clean socks. Which doesn't seem like it should be that traumatic, but, when a body is rushing to get out the door in the morning, this "no socks" thing bypasses "inconvenient" and definitely borders on traumatic, as we all frantically dig through the basket full of socks desperately searching for two that at least look like they could be related in some fashion.
I will probably just throw the basket out and buy all new socks for the household. I say this at least 4 times every year. And I also promise myself that I will keep them matched and stop my terrible "I am not matching the damn socks, seriously, things need to be prioritized around here, and they are not at the top of the list" mantra, and, make socks a bigger priority. Because, at 6:45 every morning - they certainly are on the top of that list.
That being said, I don't have time to actually go buy socks. Tonight - it's a school concert. The elementary school did not have a band teacher for half the year, so, I imagine that we are in for a real treat, when they start playing this evening, after minimal practice. I did get a desperate call from the new band teacher, requesting that Joe attend the after school practices they were having for percussion this week. Evidently no one in percussion can percuss very well.
Tuesday evening, it was a dentist appointment with Joe. I swear, I can not get enough of one on one conversations with Joe. They never disappoint. However, while we were in the waiting room, and Joe was playing with my phone, I suddenly realized that there was a middle aged couple seated nearby. The husband had his phone out, and was intently using it while mumbling. Turning to the woman who was next to him, whom I presumed to be his wife, but, maybe wasn't, but, was there with him, he asked if she knew this "Zack Wilcox" kid. She did not. The phone was utilized again. Several phone calls were made to various people, with queries as to this "Zack Wilcox" guy. Who may or may not work at a local pizzeria, or possibly a Country Club near by. Questions as to his character were asked, and comments like "How do you not KNOW? You are on Facebook with him!!!!" were made.
Since it was not possible to NOT listen, I noted that several texts and phone calls were made in regards to poor Zack Wilcox, and that Zack was Facebook and Google stalked like nobody's business. It was with grudging approval that it was noted that Zack was at least gainfully employed. The impression I got was that possibly Zack had dared ask this guy's daughter out maybe? The woman with the investigator/stalker did ask him to kindly tone it down and stop behaving like a detective on a criminal case, but, I don't think he heard her. He was dialing the phone again. I was almost disappointed when Joe was finally called back for his appointment. Not sure of Zack will ever cross paths with the guy from the dentist office, but, may the Good Lord Bless him, if he does.
With winter break over, and all the kids as healthy as we are going to get at this point, today, for the first time this week, all four of my children managed to attend the Franklinville Schools for Higher Learning. And, the following text was received: "I am stuck in a hell with a screaming demon watching over our tortured souls" from one of my kids. So, it seems life is back to normal around here.
Bearded Man's Birthday is this weekend. I asked him what he wanted to do. So far he wants to "I don't know." "Whatever you like" and he wants to eat at "I don't really care where we go." We are heading out tomorrow evening for a fun filled evening of all of those things. We were going to go out on his birthday, Saturday, but, he shares it with a friend of Kaila's, who will be 16, and who is having an amazing evening filled with a limo, midnight bowling, a glow party and dinner at an amazing restaurant. So, we will work all day Friday, and then try to stay awake to go eat some "Whatever you order, I will have too." together.
Till next time!
Because we screeched in at the very last possible moment, we rushed into the church to find it was packed, and there were no pews that would fit the entire family. So, Jasin graciously offered to take Joe, and sit a few pews ahead of us, and I, like usual wrestled George for an hour. While watching the Bearded Man take a nice nap throughout the sermon.
As we all gathered to go get the ashes on our foreheads, Kaila whispered to me "Mom? What are the ashes made of?"
"People who sleep through church."
"*gasp* MOM! You are a very bad person!"
And, just like that, there went my brownie points.
Anyhow. We are running on crazy schedules this week, as, it seems there has been something scheduled every single evening, with no plans to stop in the near future. This has caused the laundry situation in our household to become very dire, and, we are collectively out of clean socks. Which doesn't seem like it should be that traumatic, but, when a body is rushing to get out the door in the morning, this "no socks" thing bypasses "inconvenient" and definitely borders on traumatic, as we all frantically dig through the basket full of socks desperately searching for two that at least look like they could be related in some fashion.
I will probably just throw the basket out and buy all new socks for the household. I say this at least 4 times every year. And I also promise myself that I will keep them matched and stop my terrible "I am not matching the damn socks, seriously, things need to be prioritized around here, and they are not at the top of the list" mantra, and, make socks a bigger priority. Because, at 6:45 every morning - they certainly are on the top of that list.
That being said, I don't have time to actually go buy socks. Tonight - it's a school concert. The elementary school did not have a band teacher for half the year, so, I imagine that we are in for a real treat, when they start playing this evening, after minimal practice. I did get a desperate call from the new band teacher, requesting that Joe attend the after school practices they were having for percussion this week. Evidently no one in percussion can percuss very well.
Tuesday evening, it was a dentist appointment with Joe. I swear, I can not get enough of one on one conversations with Joe. They never disappoint. However, while we were in the waiting room, and Joe was playing with my phone, I suddenly realized that there was a middle aged couple seated nearby. The husband had his phone out, and was intently using it while mumbling. Turning to the woman who was next to him, whom I presumed to be his wife, but, maybe wasn't, but, was there with him, he asked if she knew this "Zack Wilcox" kid. She did not. The phone was utilized again. Several phone calls were made to various people, with queries as to this "Zack Wilcox" guy. Who may or may not work at a local pizzeria, or possibly a Country Club near by. Questions as to his character were asked, and comments like "How do you not KNOW? You are on Facebook with him!!!!" were made.
Since it was not possible to NOT listen, I noted that several texts and phone calls were made in regards to poor Zack Wilcox, and that Zack was Facebook and Google stalked like nobody's business. It was with grudging approval that it was noted that Zack was at least gainfully employed. The impression I got was that possibly Zack had dared ask this guy's daughter out maybe? The woman with the investigator/stalker did ask him to kindly tone it down and stop behaving like a detective on a criminal case, but, I don't think he heard her. He was dialing the phone again. I was almost disappointed when Joe was finally called back for his appointment. Not sure of Zack will ever cross paths with the guy from the dentist office, but, may the Good Lord Bless him, if he does.
With winter break over, and all the kids as healthy as we are going to get at this point, today, for the first time this week, all four of my children managed to attend the Franklinville Schools for Higher Learning. And, the following text was received: "I am stuck in a hell with a screaming demon watching over our tortured souls" from one of my kids. So, it seems life is back to normal around here.
Bearded Man's Birthday is this weekend. I asked him what he wanted to do. So far he wants to "I don't know." "Whatever you like" and he wants to eat at "I don't really care where we go." We are heading out tomorrow evening for a fun filled evening of all of those things. We were going to go out on his birthday, Saturday, but, he shares it with a friend of Kaila's, who will be 16, and who is having an amazing evening filled with a limo, midnight bowling, a glow party and dinner at an amazing restaurant. So, we will work all day Friday, and then try to stay awake to go eat some "Whatever you order, I will have too." together.
Till next time!
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