The ultimate cake to take to the end-of-season game? Baseball cupcakes!
1. Make cupcakes.
2. Make white icing (powdered sugar, lard, butter flavoring, and a titch of salt). Make it a little thin, with just a bit of meringue powder. This way, it will go on the cupcakes easily, self-level to a smooth, uniform surface, then harden in place. Voila!
3. Use red icing, and a small, round tip to pipe on the stitching - two half-circle lines opposite one another for the seams, like looking at the top of a baseball. Then pipe a series of short "stitches" going across the red half-circles.
4. For a real thrill -- complete with the kind of leaping up and down and spontaneous leg-hugging you get only from excited four-year-olds -- individualize the cupcakes with the kids' jersey numbers. (But be sure to take extras that look *exactly* the same, sans jersey number, for siblings - no matter how cool your other cupcakes look, they will pale in comparison and go untouched.)
So. Easy. Especially if you have either a) help, or b) a press-style decorator. The bag works beautifully, but unless you have calloused tendons from years of cake decorating already, the cramping starts in around the sixth cupcake.
By the twelfth cupcake, I began to appreciate child slave labor.
By the end of two dozen, my hands were shaking so badly, I was certain I'd developed a sudden-onset form of Parkinson's.
Oh, and #5 - take pictures *before* you leave for the party. The cupcakes won't last long enough to get a single shot once you arrive.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, May 23
It's FRIDAY
I have no idea why I'm so excited about that! I don't work outside the home. I don't get the weekend off. It must be some residual Pavlovian training.
Smidge has a team party today. He's thrilled. I'm panicky. I'd offered to make the cake, but then never got any further information from the coach's wife. Yeah, I'm good like that. So, as soon as the boys are done getting their room picked up, we're off for more powdered sugar and some beer.
Oh, speaking of alcohol in a dry county in the Bible belt... Y'all remember my last awkward t-shirt moment? Well, folks, I did it again. Smidge had the last game of the regular season. We had a Very Busy day, what with all of whatever we did on Tuesday. (I don't remember, but I do remember being rather harried and working outside.) John had a game at the same time, another field. We did the ol' one-two, slow-down-and-kick-'em-off-at-the-field drop. (I like to pretend they're paratroopers and I'm the cool Army pilot.)
Got to Smidge's field, dropped everything I had in my hands (including the carseat with Jason in it - but he's just a paratrooper-in-training, so he only had to drop three inches - but still, that was probably enough), and plopped down in my seat just as one of the other moms said, "Been one of those days?"
"Yeah," I mumbled, as I looked down, only to realize that the "rodeo" t-shirt I'd put on for yard work was still my main attire. And, if you've ever been to a rodeo in the West, you know they're all sponsored by (say it with me!) COORS! Yeah, that's me - the frantic woman in the alcoholic beverage shirt at the youth activity. If you're ever down this way, I'll be easy to spot, so you can come say hi, or give me a wide berth. I'd understand, either way.
In relating the story to Zorak later that night, he pointed out that you don't usually get COORS this far east. That made me feel better, until I saw that the folks who printed the shirt must have had that in mind, because they made a point of writing, in block letters, "BEER" across the bottom of the picture. Oh, well. Anybody who'll be that offended by something like this would probably be even more offended by getting to know us better, anyway. So it's a good thing. I'll think of it as a friend-filtering device. If you take yourself *that* seriously, you don't want to know us better.
Oh, my. And then, to highlight the point. EmBaby is having animal crackers in milk for breakfast. She wanted them cracked. So while I'm cracking the little animal crackers into her precious little bowl, she's singing me a song, "You're crapping the animal crackers. Crapping the crackers. You're crapping the animal crackers, just for me!" And I'm trying very, very hard not to laugh like a 12 year-old boy. Some of the precious toddler words, I will miss - words like "kingcummer" for cucumber, "weepoh" for Webelos, "cammer" for camera, and "plantit" for planet. Those are so very precious and endearing. But I think it'll be a good thing when she gets a handle on the whole "ck" ending sound. A good thing, indeed.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Smidge has a team party today. He's thrilled. I'm panicky. I'd offered to make the cake, but then never got any further information from the coach's wife. Yeah, I'm good like that. So, as soon as the boys are done getting their room picked up, we're off for more powdered sugar and some beer.
Oh, speaking of alcohol in a dry county in the Bible belt... Y'all remember my last awkward t-shirt moment? Well, folks, I did it again. Smidge had the last game of the regular season. We had a Very Busy day, what with all of whatever we did on Tuesday. (I don't remember, but I do remember being rather harried and working outside.) John had a game at the same time, another field. We did the ol' one-two, slow-down-and-kick-'em-off-at-the-field drop. (I like to pretend they're paratroopers and I'm the cool Army pilot.)
Got to Smidge's field, dropped everything I had in my hands (including the carseat with Jason in it - but he's just a paratrooper-in-training, so he only had to drop three inches - but still, that was probably enough), and plopped down in my seat just as one of the other moms said, "Been one of those days?"
"Yeah," I mumbled, as I looked down, only to realize that the "rodeo" t-shirt I'd put on for yard work was still my main attire. And, if you've ever been to a rodeo in the West, you know they're all sponsored by (say it with me!) COORS! Yeah, that's me - the frantic woman in the alcoholic beverage shirt at the youth activity. If you're ever down this way, I'll be easy to spot, so you can come say hi, or give me a wide berth. I'd understand, either way.
In relating the story to Zorak later that night, he pointed out that you don't usually get COORS this far east. That made me feel better, until I saw that the folks who printed the shirt must have had that in mind, because they made a point of writing, in block letters, "BEER" across the bottom of the picture. Oh, well. Anybody who'll be that offended by something like this would probably be even more offended by getting to know us better, anyway. So it's a good thing. I'll think of it as a friend-filtering device. If you take yourself *that* seriously, you don't want to know us better.
Oh, my. And then, to highlight the point. EmBaby is having animal crackers in milk for breakfast. She wanted them cracked. So while I'm cracking the little animal crackers into her precious little bowl, she's singing me a song, "You're crapping the animal crackers. Crapping the crackers. You're crapping the animal crackers, just for me!" And I'm trying very, very hard not to laugh like a 12 year-old boy. Some of the precious toddler words, I will miss - words like "kingcummer" for cucumber, "weepoh" for Webelos, "cammer" for camera, and "plantit" for planet. Those are so very precious and endearing. But I think it'll be a good thing when she gets a handle on the whole "ck" ending sound. A good thing, indeed.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, May 22
No Title Today
Can't think of one. However, is there anything more relaxing than a canopy of Dogwood leaves?
Saw the periodontist yesterday. He said the underlying tooth is surprisingly intact, structurally, and thinks a new crown can be reset on it. He referred me to a new dentist when I expressed my concerns with the one who had originally referred me to the perio. (The upside of getting a dental referral from a periodontist is that he sees the work of all the dentists around, and can steer you in a direction that may fit well with your needs! I *really* hope this pans out!) I showed him the concrete-like slab my last dentist put in, and he said this new guy does fantastic restorative work. Say a prayer, please? I go in today at 1:30.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Saw the periodontist yesterday. He said the underlying tooth is surprisingly intact, structurally, and thinks a new crown can be reset on it. He referred me to a new dentist when I expressed my concerns with the one who had originally referred me to the perio. (The upside of getting a dental referral from a periodontist is that he sees the work of all the dentists around, and can steer you in a direction that may fit well with your needs! I *really* hope this pans out!) I showed him the concrete-like slab my last dentist put in, and he said this new guy does fantastic restorative work. Say a prayer, please? I go in today at 1:30.I've accomplished diddly-squat around here, lately, other than treading water and barely keeping up with feeding and cleaning. This weekend, I'm locking the children outside with little satchels of snacks, bottles of water, and a GPS so that I can finish up:
* the couch (the book I mentioned last week did seem to help, at least with pointing out what an idiot I am, and where I've gone wrong thus far - so, that's good),
* the covers for the barstools (my initial plan hasn't worked so well - they're a PITB to get off to wash, and so, they don't get washed -- ew),
* hopefully the new curtains for our room (because the current blankets-on-nails motif is just soooo early "Broke Undergrad"),
* and curtain trim for EmBaby's room (she's had Thomas curtains this whole time -- not imperative to correct, but would be nice, I'm sure).
Hopefully, we can also borrow a tiller and get some seed planted, as well as put the two little hostas in the ground before they go into total shock and die back completely. I still have to go talk to the neighbors about keeping their chickens in check for a couple of weeks, so the seeds (both lawn and garden) can take root instead of becoming chicken feed. Not looking forward to that, but I think I've just made it bigger in my head than it needs to be. I *will* suck it up and take care of that before Saturday. (Hold me accountable!)
And, as you can see, Smidge is still into both baseball, and posing for pictures (he actually scrambled to get his glove when he saw me stalking him with the camera!)...
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, May 20
More?
Oh, man. Nobody warned us that Brindlee Mtn. is WAY. THE. HECK. OUT. THERE. Or, that it's atop an actual mountain. (I didn't know we even had mountains around here!) It took longer to get to James' game last night than it takes Zorak to get to work in the mornings! AND, since it was way the heck UP there, as well, although it was 81 at our place, it certainly wasn't 81 up there. We froze. We also didn't get home until ten.
The kids played hard last night. The final score was 23-4. I hate games like that, even when we're the ones with 23 runs (and we aren't always - our kids have had their share of spankings this season, as well). There are 11 other children who played hard, stayed up late, and still felt the disappointment of getting spanked on the field. We much prefer a close, well-matched game, for overall enjoyment factor. The team our guys played, though, had some players with serious heart. One kid got "cleated" - our guy slid into the base just as their guy reached down with the ball and, *ka-pow* cleats to the back of the hand. Yeouch. I can't believe he shook it off and stayed on the field! I'd have spent the rest of the game at the snack shack, trying to get free sno-cones "for my hand".
Gotta call the dentist today. Last night one of my crowns fell prey to a killer grilled cheese sandwich. *sigh* Go figure, it's the one I paid almost $2000 for in Arizona. The one I paid $350 for in Mexico is still standing strong. Gah, I'm so over the dental issues.
Today, also, we've got to straighten the wall in the barn garden, and finish baiting the fire ant mounds. Thrills-a-minute this week, folks! Just wait til Thursday, when we sort underwear drawers! You won't believe what wild and crazy guys we are!
Ok, ok, now I'm just getting silly. I'm going to go. You have a great day. I'll post pictures tonight, or something. To make up for the lousy posting this week. Honest. :-)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The kids played hard last night. The final score was 23-4. I hate games like that, even when we're the ones with 23 runs (and we aren't always - our kids have had their share of spankings this season, as well). There are 11 other children who played hard, stayed up late, and still felt the disappointment of getting spanked on the field. We much prefer a close, well-matched game, for overall enjoyment factor. The team our guys played, though, had some players with serious heart. One kid got "cleated" - our guy slid into the base just as their guy reached down with the ball and, *ka-pow* cleats to the back of the hand. Yeouch. I can't believe he shook it off and stayed on the field! I'd have spent the rest of the game at the snack shack, trying to get free sno-cones "for my hand".
Gotta call the dentist today. Last night one of my crowns fell prey to a killer grilled cheese sandwich. *sigh* Go figure, it's the one I paid almost $2000 for in Arizona. The one I paid $350 for in Mexico is still standing strong. Gah, I'm so over the dental issues.
Today, also, we've got to straighten the wall in the barn garden, and finish baiting the fire ant mounds. Thrills-a-minute this week, folks! Just wait til Thursday, when we sort underwear drawers! You won't believe what wild and crazy guys we are!
Ok, ok, now I'm just getting silly. I'm going to go. You have a great day. I'll post pictures tonight, or something. To make up for the lousy posting this week. Honest. :-)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, May 19
Conversations and Tidbits
James: Will aphids bite?
Me: No, they're just irritating.
James: Oh. Ok-- uh, irritating, as in annoying? Or irritating as in, they will irritate your skin?
Me: Just annoying.
James: Well, that's good!
****************************************************
We have decorative ivy climbing the new fence! It's pretty cool.
We have poison ivy climbing everything else. Not so cool.
We found earthworms.
We found fire ants.
We found a butterfly.
We found grubby, leggy, swarmy things. (I think it was a disturbed ant bed.)
So, in general, we're not making fantastic headway out there.
But it's not all bad, either.
But I am seriously done with the Mary Poppins attitude to landscaping today.
*****************************************************
James: I found a swarm of something in one of the bricks. They look like maggots, with legs. Like this. (Makes legs with his fingers sticking from his abdomen.) Can I touch it?
Me: (It's only 12:26, and I am SO done doing the yardwork-with-kids thing already.) Honey, if you find a brick swarming with anything, just leave it be.
James: (Not looking at me...) Like that?
Me: What?
James: Like that.
Me: Like... what?
James: Like that bee? (Points at a hovering bee on the porch.)
*sigh*
******************************************************
EmBaby: Em 'a want 'a swing!
Me: (There's an empty swing right in front of her.) Well, ok, go swing.
EmBaby: Em 'a want 'a THAT swing. (The one her brother is in, of course.)
Me: Well, that one's in use, Baby. You can pick one of the other swings...
EmBaby: *bursts into tears*
Me: Well, Love, a fit won't get you what you want. If you need to throw this fit, you can do it in your room. If you want to swing, you need to stop with the fit.
EmBaby: *sniff* *sniff* OK. I all done. *sniff* Em 'a want 'a swing.
(What's the computer code for an endless loop? Yeah, insert that right about... here.)
************************************************
And the general MO of the day: don't think about what you do before you do it.
EmBaby comes to me, crying that John bonked her in the head with a dirt clod.
Gah. We have discussed this, I don't know how many times. We. Do. Not. Throw. Dirt. Period. (But particularly not at people.)
Me: JOHN! Did you throw dirt clods?
John: (in his most humble, I really don't want to be telling the truth right now, voice) Yes.
Me: Don't we have some kind of guideline about that?
John: Don't do it.
James: Um, Mom. I was part of that. You know how when you throw dirt clods and they come apart due to the... something-something... friction and gravity... mumble-something... time-space continuum... average PSI... inhalation... (OK, I wasn't paying attention - his explanations get overly involved and unnecessarily exhausting. I've taken to standing there, looking stern until his lips stop moving and he makes eye contact again. So shoot me. But I did give him immediate credit for 'fessing up to his part in it before I even had to ask.)
Basically, they were playing some kind of game wherein James rides his bike and John tries to hit him with dirt clods as he goes by. Aside from the fact that I think that's a weird thing to play, I have other problems with it. The thing about moving targets, of course, being that they often bring into the line of fire non-moving, non-targets. And when you're seven, it's not like your aim is the greatest.
So, I ran through my mental parenting rubric:
Told the truth the first time, +5 pts.
...without me reminding him of the importance of doing so. +10 pts.
Spotted the error in their thinking process, +3 pts.
...without me having to point it out. +10 pts.
Sibling coughed up a truthful inclusion confession on his own, +20 pts.
Both parties showed concern (ok, some awareness) that their actions, however unintentional, had negatively affected someone else. +50 pts. (been workin' on that one for a while!)
So it's not 100% (that would be reserved for "thought things through before doing them" - it will be a Very Happy Day when that happens!) But it's not bad for a 7yo and a 9yo. I couldn't really justify leaping into Lecture Land. They handled it well. I'm proud of them.
But I'm still done doing the yardwork-with-kids thing. :-P
That's why I'm in here, blogging, under the pretext of figuring out what to fix for lunch.
Me: No, they're just irritating.
James: Oh. Ok-- uh, irritating, as in annoying? Or irritating as in, they will irritate your skin?
Me: Just annoying.
James: Well, that's good!
****************************************************
We have decorative ivy climbing the new fence! It's pretty cool.
We have poison ivy climbing everything else. Not so cool.
We found earthworms.
We found fire ants.
We found a butterfly.
We found grubby, leggy, swarmy things. (I think it was a disturbed ant bed.)
So, in general, we're not making fantastic headway out there.
But it's not all bad, either.
But I am seriously done with the Mary Poppins attitude to landscaping today.
*****************************************************
James: I found a swarm of something in one of the bricks. They look like maggots, with legs. Like this. (Makes legs with his fingers sticking from his abdomen.) Can I touch it?
Me: (It's only 12:26, and I am SO done doing the yardwork-with-kids thing already.) Honey, if you find a brick swarming with anything, just leave it be.
James: (Not looking at me...) Like that?
Me: What?
James: Like that.
Me: Like... what?
James: Like that bee? (Points at a hovering bee on the porch.)
*sigh*
******************************************************
EmBaby: Em 'a want 'a swing!
Me: (There's an empty swing right in front of her.) Well, ok, go swing.
EmBaby: Em 'a want 'a THAT swing. (The one her brother is in, of course.)
Me: Well, that one's in use, Baby. You can pick one of the other swings...
EmBaby: *bursts into tears*
Me: Well, Love, a fit won't get you what you want. If you need to throw this fit, you can do it in your room. If you want to swing, you need to stop with the fit.
EmBaby: *sniff* *sniff* OK. I all done. *sniff* Em 'a want 'a swing.
(What's the computer code for an endless loop? Yeah, insert that right about... here.)
************************************************
And the general MO of the day: don't think about what you do before you do it.
EmBaby comes to me, crying that John bonked her in the head with a dirt clod.
Gah. We have discussed this, I don't know how many times. We. Do. Not. Throw. Dirt. Period. (But particularly not at people.)
Me: JOHN! Did you throw dirt clods?
John: (in his most humble, I really don't want to be telling the truth right now, voice) Yes.
Me: Don't we have some kind of guideline about that?
John: Don't do it.
James: Um, Mom. I was part of that. You know how when you throw dirt clods and they come apart due to the... something-something... friction and gravity... mumble-something... time-space continuum... average PSI... inhalation... (OK, I wasn't paying attention - his explanations get overly involved and unnecessarily exhausting. I've taken to standing there, looking stern until his lips stop moving and he makes eye contact again. So shoot me. But I did give him immediate credit for 'fessing up to his part in it before I even had to ask.)
Basically, they were playing some kind of game wherein James rides his bike and John tries to hit him with dirt clods as he goes by. Aside from the fact that I think that's a weird thing to play, I have other problems with it. The thing about moving targets, of course, being that they often bring into the line of fire non-moving, non-targets. And when you're seven, it's not like your aim is the greatest.
So, I ran through my mental parenting rubric:
Told the truth the first time, +5 pts.
...without me reminding him of the importance of doing so. +10 pts.
Spotted the error in their thinking process, +3 pts.
...without me having to point it out. +10 pts.
Sibling coughed up a truthful inclusion confession on his own, +20 pts.
Both parties showed concern (ok, some awareness) that their actions, however unintentional, had negatively affected someone else. +50 pts. (been workin' on that one for a while!)
So it's not 100% (that would be reserved for "thought things through before doing them" - it will be a Very Happy Day when that happens!) But it's not bad for a 7yo and a 9yo. I couldn't really justify leaping into Lecture Land. They handled it well. I'm proud of them.
But I'm still done doing the yardwork-with-kids thing. :-P
That's why I'm in here, blogging, under the pretext of figuring out what to fix for lunch.
Sunday, May 18
ONE PIER!
That's all that's left to pour! There's one support post up, and Zorak plans to hit Lowe's on the way home tomorrow for ledger board/band board, and columns! WOOT!!
I wish my progress was as exciting. It wasn't. We sifted the closets. Had the boys try on *everything* in there. Took out the winter garb, put it in a pile. Took out things that don't fit, put them in a pile. Set aside the things that are not in good repair any longer, put 'em in a pile. Took out things they just don't wear, put those... in a bag. (The piles were starting to irritate all of us at that point.) The clutter sneaks up on me, season after season. Thank heaven for Spring Cleaning, no?
Smidge, EmBaby and I went to the feed store to see about buying a Croton (thanks, Melora - that's just what it was!!), but they don't have a supplier for them. We'll have to go back to the fruit stand for those. We bought two hostas, instead, and they're sitting out front, waiting for to the muse to move and show Zorak and I where, exactly, to put the holes.
Saturday was a whirlwind of activity and stoopid Home Depot employees. But it was a good day, other than that. So, all-in-all, all is well. I'm just too pooped to write tonight, and have too many thoughts bumping into each other to make any of them make sense individually.
I wish my progress was as exciting. It wasn't. We sifted the closets. Had the boys try on *everything* in there. Took out the winter garb, put it in a pile. Took out things that don't fit, put them in a pile. Set aside the things that are not in good repair any longer, put 'em in a pile. Took out things they just don't wear, put those... in a bag. (The piles were starting to irritate all of us at that point.) The clutter sneaks up on me, season after season. Thank heaven for Spring Cleaning, no?
Smidge, EmBaby and I went to the feed store to see about buying a Croton (thanks, Melora - that's just what it was!!), but they don't have a supplier for them. We'll have to go back to the fruit stand for those. We bought two hostas, instead, and they're sitting out front, waiting for to the muse to move and show Zorak and I where, exactly, to put the holes.
Saturday was a whirlwind of activity and stoopid Home Depot employees. But it was a good day, other than that. So, all-in-all, all is well. I'm just too pooped to write tonight, and have too many thoughts bumping into each other to make any of them make sense individually.
Thursday, May 15
I thought I'd told you about that.
But I've just searched the blog, and it seems I never mentioned it. However, to tell tonight's story, I have to tell the first story, so...
The first Scout meeting we attended, back in December, turned out to be one where a Sheriff's Deputy spoke about arrest warrants, drug use, and other niceties of the trade. He was very good with the boys, and they were all riveted to the spot. One of the kids asked him what the most common warrant is that they issue. The Deputy said there's actually a lot of meth activity in this area...
Cue James, who listens, kind of, and joins in at random times, occasionally with disjointed information that may - or may not - be pertinent to the discussion. Our first contact with a new group of people seems to be a fairly regular, and not-as-random-as-I'd-prefer, occasion for sharing information out of context.
"Oh, yes! My Mom said meth is easy to make in your basement!"
*blink* *blink*
...Are ya gonna follow up on that comment?
Nope.
A few minutes later, as the Nice Officer explained that marijuana is a plant that is grown, and some of the other drugs are made from chemicals, James again decided to move straight to the head of the class (or right into the interrogation lamp, depending on your perspective) by offering:
"Yeah! My Mom said you can make meth with common household materials."
(Gah. Where IS this kid's mother, huh?!?)
Again, no further explanation. I'm out-to-here pregnant, with kids hanging all over, kind of dirty because we'd been working on the storm windows all day... and I'm wanting to DIE.
Now, what I'd said, in context, during one of our many "Drugs Will Destroy Your Soul And Make You Do Weird Things" discussions, was that meth is commonly made in homes in rural neighborhoods, and that the nice pharmacist asked me to sign for sinus medication because many common household materials, including OTC drugs, are used in the production of methamphetamines and the law enforcement agencies are trying to clamp down on that. THAT is what I said. Sounds totally different, doesn't it?
Right. So, here we are, six months later. I'm hoping the folks at Scouts are starting to get a feel for us (you know, like feeling fairly confident that we aren't whipping out crack in our spare time). James' den is talking about community, taxes, and law enforcement. His contribution to the discussion? Well, when the Scoutmaster pointed out that so-and-so's Dad (sitting right there - same guy who gave the talk in December) is a Deputy, James points out...
Well, if everybody followed the law, he'd be out of a job!
Sooo... this is the Economic Security Through Default Crime approach? Ahhh, yes. I'm kind of glad I wasn't there for that one. Thankfully, however, he's getting better. At least he followed this one up with,
They do learn. It's good stuff.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The first Scout meeting we attended, back in December, turned out to be one where a Sheriff's Deputy spoke about arrest warrants, drug use, and other niceties of the trade. He was very good with the boys, and they were all riveted to the spot. One of the kids asked him what the most common warrant is that they issue. The Deputy said there's actually a lot of meth activity in this area...
Cue James, who listens, kind of, and joins in at random times, occasionally with disjointed information that may - or may not - be pertinent to the discussion. Our first contact with a new group of people seems to be a fairly regular, and not-as-random-as-I'd-prefer, occasion for sharing information out of context.
"Oh, yes! My Mom said meth is easy to make in your basement!"
*blink* *blink*
...Are ya gonna follow up on that comment?
Nope.
A few minutes later, as the Nice Officer explained that marijuana is a plant that is grown, and some of the other drugs are made from chemicals, James again decided to move straight to the head of the class (or right into the interrogation lamp, depending on your perspective) by offering:
"Yeah! My Mom said you can make meth with common household materials."
(Gah. Where IS this kid's mother, huh?!?)
Again, no further explanation. I'm out-to-here pregnant, with kids hanging all over, kind of dirty because we'd been working on the storm windows all day... and I'm wanting to DIE.
Now, what I'd said, in context, during one of our many "Drugs Will Destroy Your Soul And Make You Do Weird Things" discussions, was that meth is commonly made in homes in rural neighborhoods, and that the nice pharmacist asked me to sign for sinus medication because many common household materials, including OTC drugs, are used in the production of methamphetamines and the law enforcement agencies are trying to clamp down on that. THAT is what I said. Sounds totally different, doesn't it?
Right. So, here we are, six months later. I'm hoping the folks at Scouts are starting to get a feel for us (you know, like feeling fairly confident that we aren't whipping out crack in our spare time). James' den is talking about community, taxes, and law enforcement. His contribution to the discussion? Well, when the Scoutmaster pointed out that so-and-so's Dad (sitting right there - same guy who gave the talk in December) is a Deputy, James points out...
Well, if everybody followed the law, he'd be out of a job!
Sooo... this is the Economic Security Through Default Crime approach? Ahhh, yes. I'm kind of glad I wasn't there for that one. Thankfully, however, he's getting better. At least he followed this one up with,
"But, you know, we should all probably still follow the law."Good save, kiddo! Good save.
They do learn. It's good stuff.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, May 14
Party Planners and Parenting
Party Planners: I will never mock them again.
On the other topic...
It was a pretty good day, today. Most of the "stuff" was your normal "stuff" - the kind of mental gymnastics that are part and parcel of parenting. Those, I can handle. I generally ignore them when I blog, because they're just so... mundane... but today, they felt somewhat refreshing. Eh, it's the devil you know, right?
The boys had piano today, since their teacher will be out of town tomorrow. James needs to work with a damper pedal, but do you think they left the damper pedal alone when we first got the keyboard? Do you think they put it where I suggested they put it? Do you think they remember any of those discussions? No, no, they don't. And so, he's a bit upset that he can't do his studies because "we" (he's mastered the Royal We already - see, told you he was advanced! ha-ha.) can't find it. Uh-huh. Okay, then.
Smidge stayed with Zorak because I had to ask him three times to put away the train tracks so we could leave. I'm just having to crack down on this whole, "You need to do what I ask you to do when I ask you to do it" thing. If they don't do it right then, they will forget. They're little, they do that.
Seriously, I work hard at not being a dictator, but a few train tracks before we run to piano, a pair of socks before brushing your teeth, cleats left in the doorway, clean clothes that don't make it to their drawers before lights-out... times four... and suddenly, I live in a home that would shame Samson & Son. Argh! Clutter makes me twitchy. Clutter that is not mine, that I do not want, and that is not picked up makes me think fondly of Joan Crawford. I don't want to live like that, and whether the kids know it or not, they don't want to live like that. So, please, let's stick with the one-thing-out, one-thing-back rule and move on, shall we? Yeah, thanks.
He got to help Zorak and felt pretty good about all the work he did. (All part of my genius! Or, at least I'm going to take credit for it tonight.) And when we got back, even though it was raining, he put a coat over his head and ran out to give me a hug and fill me in on all he accomplished. So I'm guessing he wasn't terribly scarred by not going with us.
EmBaby stayed home because it was, blessedly, naptime, and... because I could get away with it. A sippy cup, a Disney flick, and a molasses cookie and I've not only ensured our dentist's future employment prospects, but she's out in five minutes, flat. Don't judge me too harshly, here, folks. I've only got about six more months where that'll work, and I. need. them.
We made it to piano *EARLY* (two days in a row that we haven't been late for things - it is a personal best - the boys and I did a victory dance in the parking lot to mark the occasion), performed a rain dance (aka - hit the car wash, guaranteed to do the trick every time!), picked up more anchor bolts and a couple of good books (hint: when you want to know whether a book is good and should you buy it, be sure to call the one friend you know who can justify a book purchase under almost any condition. She'll come through for you!)
One of the books I bought is called "Slipcovers Made Easy". Of course, everything about our couch is listed under her "Don't Start With THIS COUCH" section. But that's okay. If she can make it even do-able, I'll be happy. We lost sight of "easy" two months ago. We're almost down to shopping, or arson.
OK, I have more stuff to do before bed. I better go be productive.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
On the other topic...
It was a pretty good day, today. Most of the "stuff" was your normal "stuff" - the kind of mental gymnastics that are part and parcel of parenting. Those, I can handle. I generally ignore them when I blog, because they're just so... mundane... but today, they felt somewhat refreshing. Eh, it's the devil you know, right?
The boys had piano today, since their teacher will be out of town tomorrow. James needs to work with a damper pedal, but do you think they left the damper pedal alone when we first got the keyboard? Do you think they put it where I suggested they put it? Do you think they remember any of those discussions? No, no, they don't. And so, he's a bit upset that he can't do his studies because "we" (he's mastered the Royal We already - see, told you he was advanced! ha-ha.) can't find it. Uh-huh. Okay, then.
Smidge stayed with Zorak because I had to ask him three times to put away the train tracks so we could leave. I'm just having to crack down on this whole, "You need to do what I ask you to do when I ask you to do it" thing. If they don't do it right then, they will forget. They're little, they do that.
Seriously, I work hard at not being a dictator, but a few train tracks before we run to piano, a pair of socks before brushing your teeth, cleats left in the doorway, clean clothes that don't make it to their drawers before lights-out... times four... and suddenly, I live in a home that would shame Samson & Son. Argh! Clutter makes me twitchy. Clutter that is not mine, that I do not want, and that is not picked up makes me think fondly of Joan Crawford. I don't want to live like that, and whether the kids know it or not, they don't want to live like that. So, please, let's stick with the one-thing-out, one-thing-back rule and move on, shall we? Yeah, thanks.
He got to help Zorak and felt pretty good about all the work he did. (All part of my genius! Or, at least I'm going to take credit for it tonight.) And when we got back, even though it was raining, he put a coat over his head and ran out to give me a hug and fill me in on all he accomplished. So I'm guessing he wasn't terribly scarred by not going with us.
EmBaby stayed home because it was, blessedly, naptime, and... because I could get away with it. A sippy cup, a Disney flick, and a molasses cookie and I've not only ensured our dentist's future employment prospects, but she's out in five minutes, flat. Don't judge me too harshly, here, folks. I've only got about six more months where that'll work, and I. need. them.
We made it to piano *EARLY* (two days in a row that we haven't been late for things - it is a personal best - the boys and I did a victory dance in the parking lot to mark the occasion), performed a rain dance (aka - hit the car wash, guaranteed to do the trick every time!), picked up more anchor bolts and a couple of good books (hint: when you want to know whether a book is good and should you buy it, be sure to call the one friend you know who can justify a book purchase under almost any condition. She'll come through for you!)
One of the books I bought is called "Slipcovers Made Easy". Of course, everything about our couch is listed under her "Don't Start With THIS COUCH" section. But that's okay. If she can make it even do-able, I'll be happy. We lost sight of "easy" two months ago. We're almost down to shopping, or arson.
OK, I have more stuff to do before bed. I better go be productive.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
ufda! - but things are getting better
I forgot "the rest of the story" from yesterday - LB asked me about it this morning (I called her yesterday for a little talk-me-down), and honestly, I think I blocked it while I was blogging.
Baby Jason took a tumble while we were in Sam's. Best we can tell, the spring on the locking mechanism came unhooked and so, while we were standing around the basket, enjoying seconds of the tortellini samples (it so helps to have cute kids - the sample ladies offer them extras just to keep them talking!), all of a sudden, the carseat flips up and over. He landed, face-down, on the floor. My heart stopped for a full 30 seconds, I think. The boys didn't fare much better. And every sample lady within view came flocking to make sure "that precious baby" was okay.
He is, thank God, just fine. The straps did their trick, kept him tucked safely within the walls of the carseat, and he, personally, never hit the floor. He shows no signs of discomfort, not having any trouble moving, holding up his head, or focusing on objects. We kept an eye on his eye dilation, looked for signs of lethargy, and put everyone on alert about projectile vomiting. Nothing. But I didn't sleep for squat last night from checking on him regularly. We finished our shopping with him in the sling, with both arms wrapped around him. Tight. He may end up with squished parts from me holding him so snugly!
Today... much more peaceful. We planted the salad bed! We took a slightly unconventional approach, since trying to make neat, perfectly spaced rows with four children and a dog just wasn't happening. We raked back the mulch, turned up a light layer of dirt, scattered seeds in the general vicinity of each section, raked it lightly, and put the mulch back. If it works, it should be a fantastic garden. If it doesn't work, well, we saved some seeds and can always try again. James made a chart which will go up on the corkboard display (um, which I need to make this weekend), John and Smidge watered it. Em, who has had a fever off-and-on for two days (molars, weee!) roamed back and forth from the garden bed to the porch, whining. It's part of the official Toddler Pulmonary Strength and Vocal Training Program, I think.
We dead-headed the rose bush. This is the first year we've had roses on it, and I'm shooting for a second bloom, if we can get it.
We checked on the fruit trees. This year, we're getting fruit! We finally have fruit on the two apple trees, the pears are growing beautifully, and what we've always though was a peach tree down by the propane tank - IS a peach tree - this year we have peaches! The elusive persimmon still hasn't surfaced, but we know it's out there, somewhere. (We found a few over-ripe persimmons our first fall here, but can't find the tree.)
One of the goals we've kept in the forefront of all we do on this property is to make the land healthy as we make it useful. It's a bountiful piece of earth, and, if properly cared for, will yield many wonderful things - not just for our table, but for our children, our life here, and beyond. So far, in spite of our woeful ignorance of Things Agricultural, we've seen many signs that what we're doing is working: new fruit, increased earthworm numbers, better drainage, more birds, fewer trees going down in storms, cleaner creek water, and several flowering plants that hadn't flowered in years now covered in blooms. It's exciting! Just imagine what we'll be able to do once we have some idea what we're doing! :-P The kids are getting a kick out of it, too, because they are a part of it. They help prune, clean, tend, and feed. They get out there and take part in all that happens, and they have a vested interest in the outcome of our work. This is why we bought the place. Definitely why we bought it.
Baby Jason took a tumble while we were in Sam's. Best we can tell, the spring on the locking mechanism came unhooked and so, while we were standing around the basket, enjoying seconds of the tortellini samples (it so helps to have cute kids - the sample ladies offer them extras just to keep them talking!), all of a sudden, the carseat flips up and over. He landed, face-down, on the floor. My heart stopped for a full 30 seconds, I think. The boys didn't fare much better. And every sample lady within view came flocking to make sure "that precious baby" was okay.
He is, thank God, just fine. The straps did their trick, kept him tucked safely within the walls of the carseat, and he, personally, never hit the floor. He shows no signs of discomfort, not having any trouble moving, holding up his head, or focusing on objects. We kept an eye on his eye dilation, looked for signs of lethargy, and put everyone on alert about projectile vomiting. Nothing. But I didn't sleep for squat last night from checking on him regularly. We finished our shopping with him in the sling, with both arms wrapped around him. Tight. He may end up with squished parts from me holding him so snugly!
Today... much more peaceful. We planted the salad bed! We took a slightly unconventional approach, since trying to make neat, perfectly spaced rows with four children and a dog just wasn't happening. We raked back the mulch, turned up a light layer of dirt, scattered seeds in the general vicinity of each section, raked it lightly, and put the mulch back. If it works, it should be a fantastic garden. If it doesn't work, well, we saved some seeds and can always try again. James made a chart which will go up on the corkboard display (um, which I need to make this weekend), John and Smidge watered it. Em, who has had a fever off-and-on for two days (molars, weee!) roamed back and forth from the garden bed to the porch, whining. It's part of the official Toddler Pulmonary Strength and Vocal Training Program, I think.
We dead-headed the rose bush. This is the first year we've had roses on it, and I'm shooting for a second bloom, if we can get it.
We checked on the fruit trees. This year, we're getting fruit! We finally have fruit on the two apple trees, the pears are growing beautifully, and what we've always though was a peach tree down by the propane tank - IS a peach tree - this year we have peaches! The elusive persimmon still hasn't surfaced, but we know it's out there, somewhere. (We found a few over-ripe persimmons our first fall here, but can't find the tree.)
One of the goals we've kept in the forefront of all we do on this property is to make the land healthy as we make it useful. It's a bountiful piece of earth, and, if properly cared for, will yield many wonderful things - not just for our table, but for our children, our life here, and beyond. So far, in spite of our woeful ignorance of Things Agricultural, we've seen many signs that what we're doing is working: new fruit, increased earthworm numbers, better drainage, more birds, fewer trees going down in storms, cleaner creek water, and several flowering plants that hadn't flowered in years now covered in blooms. It's exciting! Just imagine what we'll be able to do once we have some idea what we're doing! :-P The kids are getting a kick out of it, too, because they are a part of it. They help prune, clean, tend, and feed. They get out there and take part in all that happens, and they have a vested interest in the outcome of our work. This is why we bought the place. Definitely why we bought it.
Tuesday, May 13
Oh, for the love of Pete.
I don't know Pete, personally, but I hope he's happy, now, with all the love I've wished him the past 48 hours.
We have new house phones. We've needed to replace ours for a while, but yesterday there was this HUGE straw, and this camel with spinal injuries, and a lot of poop... fortunately (?) it wasn't camel poop... I don't know. It's all relative, really.
So, my plan yesterday was to strip the forms from the weekend's piers. But I couldn't find the square bits. I can't find anything down there. I gave up before I dismantled the forms entirely and left Zorak further behind than when he finished Sunday.
We were going to dig the next hole and start tearing off the back steps. (I really do hate brick. Oh, how I loathe brick. There are so many ant beds inside those steps! YUCK!) But EmBaby needed a bath first, and Smidge needed to get dressed. All was going fairly well, with just a glitch or two here and there. Then, out of nowhere...
One kid had diarrhea.
Em needed to poop.
Since the sole toilet was occupied, why not use the tub? The tub she was bathing in... sure, sounds like a plan.
So Smidge, mostly naked at this point, is running up and down the hall, yelling, "Emily POOPED!" John is trapped in the room with the vile concoction, probably wondering why he continues to eat jalapenos in such large quantities.
Em's standing in the tub, crying.
I pull her out, pull the drain on the tub...
...and drop my phone in the tub.
Cue Angry Baby! Jason wakes up, evidently realizing he got hungry ten minutes earlier. Oy, he's ticked. Smidge is still playing Town Crier, announcing the Great Poop Incident of '08. John's out of toilet paper. I can't find James, and I'm not sure the phone is worth rescuing.
James brings toilet paper. I dig out the phone (fear of electrocution should someone fall into the vile water overrode my squeamishness). I try to redirect Smidge to Get. Dressed. John's starting to look a little light-headed. Emily's still crying.
We have exactly eight drops of bleach left. OK, it'll have to do. Bleach the tub, delegate James to change Jason, threaten Smidge with banishment if he doesn't stop with the play-by-play. John, bless him, tries to switch out the toilet paper roll. (I love that they will replace the empty roll, I do. Just... not. while. you're STILL on the commode, ya know?) The bar falls in. Yeah, it did.
If I'd have thought it would clear the p-trap, I'd have just flushed it.
I'm not entirely sure how I got through the whole situation without imploding, or teaching the kids new bad words, but I did. It helps that we've got two older children who can understand when Mom explains, "OK, hey, listen, *everything* is falling down around my ears at the moment. I need you to do x,y, and probably z twice, to help me get it braced back up. Can you do that for me?" Once they stop laughing (they have a beautiful grasp of the absurd), they do help. They don't panic.
I *had* to go get bleach. Simply had to. There is no way I'm going to end up in this exact situation again, folks. So, we got Smidge dressed, tended to Jason, re-washed EmBaby, took a few deep breaths, then loaded up and ran to Sam's. We're now the proud owners of four and a quarter gallons of bleach (should last us a good year or two, right?), some quick-fix food for game night (which, of course, we consumed last night), and another large bag of toilet paper (we were disturbingly close to running out).
This is the third day in a row that's thrown me a few curve balls. I'm so very thankful to have this family, these kids, and that wonderful, wonderful bed to collapse into at the end of days like that. I'm guessing a good sense of humor doesn't hurt, any.
The new phones are charging now. They're lovely. They've never been pooped on. And, they have an intercom feature. I think I may just put one in the bathroom (but you know, up high, and glued to the wall) to facilitate Smidge's journalistic leanings. What do you think?
Today, we're tackling those steps! (And Zorak showed me where he hides the "hot tools" - the ones he's currently using - so maybe I can be a little more helpful down there on the balcony today.)
Kiss those babies ~ they may be what keeps you from the asylum one day! ;-)
~Dy
We have new house phones. We've needed to replace ours for a while, but yesterday there was this HUGE straw, and this camel with spinal injuries, and a lot of poop... fortunately (?) it wasn't camel poop... I don't know. It's all relative, really.
So, my plan yesterday was to strip the forms from the weekend's piers. But I couldn't find the square bits. I can't find anything down there. I gave up before I dismantled the forms entirely and left Zorak further behind than when he finished Sunday.
We were going to dig the next hole and start tearing off the back steps. (I really do hate brick. Oh, how I loathe brick. There are so many ant beds inside those steps! YUCK!) But EmBaby needed a bath first, and Smidge needed to get dressed. All was going fairly well, with just a glitch or two here and there. Then, out of nowhere...
One kid had diarrhea.
Em needed to poop.
Since the sole toilet was occupied, why not use the tub? The tub she was bathing in... sure, sounds like a plan.
So Smidge, mostly naked at this point, is running up and down the hall, yelling, "Emily POOPED!" John is trapped in the room with the vile concoction, probably wondering why he continues to eat jalapenos in such large quantities.
Em's standing in the tub, crying.
I pull her out, pull the drain on the tub...
...and drop my phone in the tub.
Cue Angry Baby! Jason wakes up, evidently realizing he got hungry ten minutes earlier. Oy, he's ticked. Smidge is still playing Town Crier, announcing the Great Poop Incident of '08. John's out of toilet paper. I can't find James, and I'm not sure the phone is worth rescuing.
James brings toilet paper. I dig out the phone (fear of electrocution should someone fall into the vile water overrode my squeamishness). I try to redirect Smidge to Get. Dressed. John's starting to look a little light-headed. Emily's still crying.
We have exactly eight drops of bleach left. OK, it'll have to do. Bleach the tub, delegate James to change Jason, threaten Smidge with banishment if he doesn't stop with the play-by-play. John, bless him, tries to switch out the toilet paper roll. (I love that they will replace the empty roll, I do. Just... not. while. you're STILL on the commode, ya know?) The bar falls in. Yeah, it did.
If I'd have thought it would clear the p-trap, I'd have just flushed it.
I'm not entirely sure how I got through the whole situation without imploding, or teaching the kids new bad words, but I did. It helps that we've got two older children who can understand when Mom explains, "OK, hey, listen, *everything* is falling down around my ears at the moment. I need you to do x,y, and probably z twice, to help me get it braced back up. Can you do that for me?" Once they stop laughing (they have a beautiful grasp of the absurd), they do help. They don't panic.
I *had* to go get bleach. Simply had to. There is no way I'm going to end up in this exact situation again, folks. So, we got Smidge dressed, tended to Jason, re-washed EmBaby, took a few deep breaths, then loaded up and ran to Sam's. We're now the proud owners of four and a quarter gallons of bleach (should last us a good year or two, right?), some quick-fix food for game night (which, of course, we consumed last night), and another large bag of toilet paper (we were disturbingly close to running out).
This is the third day in a row that's thrown me a few curve balls. I'm so very thankful to have this family, these kids, and that wonderful, wonderful bed to collapse into at the end of days like that. I'm guessing a good sense of humor doesn't hurt, any.
The new phones are charging now. They're lovely. They've never been pooped on. And, they have an intercom feature. I think I may just put one in the bathroom (but you know, up high, and glued to the wall) to facilitate Smidge's journalistic leanings. What do you think?
Today, we're tackling those steps! (And Zorak showed me where he hides the "hot tools" - the ones he's currently using - so maybe I can be a little more helpful down there on the balcony today.)
Kiss those babies ~ they may be what keeps you from the asylum one day! ;-)
~Dy
Monday, May 12
A Lovely Day and Big Plans
Well, BabyJ kept me up until about five this morning. I think Zorak had intended to let me sleep in a bit, but the boys were anxious to fix me breakfast in bed for Mother's Day. Had I not been (a) still mostly asleep, and (b) nursing the wee one, when they made their grand entrance (setting the plate on the wee babe, since that was closest to my head, I suppose), I'm sure my gratitude would have been more clearly evident than with my groggy, utterances of, "oh. OH! Oh, um, oh" It was all I could come up with. When they brought in the coffee, I got really nervous, pried myself loose and joined everyone for breakfast at the table.
By the time we'd eaten (and I was a bit morealert, erm, coherent), we decided today should be a work day. Zorak, John and Smidge worked on the balcony piers. I worked in the basement. James watched Jason and Em for me. We talked. We worked. We planned. It's not your typical Mother's Day dream plan, but it's so very "us". Yes, we're geeks. We know this. We embrace it. It's what makes it all work, you know.
Zorak managed to avoid having to discuss his birthday plans with me just long enough that I hit that stage where my voice cracks and my right eye twitches involuntarily. I'd written on my calendar that invitations were to go out Monday. TOMORROW. And here, we didn't even have a menu, or a theme, or a balcony! He took pity on me and nailed down a few details. Invitations won't go out tomorrow, but we have a theme, a menu, and he's promised me a list of names from work by tomorrow evening.
We may, or may not, have a balcony in time. We've decided we're not sweating it. However, since I evidently only work well under incredible pressure with unreasonable expectations, my insane inner self decided that I need to have the basement party-presentable "just in case" the weather is bad.
Right.
Because a tent in the meadow somehow provides less shelter than an open-air balcony.
I know. I don't get it, either. It's a wacky world inside this head. But I seldom get bored. So, there's that.
It's about time for a curriculum and scheduling post, too! I just have to stop hyperventilating over the cost of the new curriculum, first. It'll come.
And now, in case that little bundle of late-night energy decides to wake up and party, I'm going to get some shut-eye, myself.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
By the time we'd eaten (and I was a bit more
Zorak managed to avoid having to discuss his birthday plans with me just long enough that I hit that stage where my voice cracks and my right eye twitches involuntarily. I'd written on my calendar that invitations were to go out Monday. TOMORROW. And here, we didn't even have a menu, or a theme, or a balcony! He took pity on me and nailed down a few details. Invitations won't go out tomorrow, but we have a theme, a menu, and he's promised me a list of names from work by tomorrow evening.
We may, or may not, have a balcony in time. We've decided we're not sweating it. However, since I evidently only work well under incredible pressure with unreasonable expectations, my insane inner self decided that I need to have the basement party-presentable "just in case" the weather is bad.
Right.
Because a tent in the meadow somehow provides less shelter than an open-air balcony.
I know. I don't get it, either. It's a wacky world inside this head. But I seldom get bored. So, there's that.
It's about time for a curriculum and scheduling post, too! I just have to stop hyperventilating over the cost of the new curriculum, first. It'll come.
And now, in case that little bundle of late-night energy decides to wake up and party, I'm going to get some shut-eye, myself.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, May 11
HI!
Well, yesterday ganged up on me. (If one thing can be said to "gang up", that is.) Everything was going fine until we had an impromptu water-rescue, and that, while it turned out nicely, threw the entire rest of the day into utter chaos. There's just something about having to rip open a box of nursing pads in the checkout line and inconspicuously trying to stuff a couple in while letting your 7yo hold the screaming, hungry baby because you didn't grab a decent nursing shirt, and you can't get home to change (again) if that one gets soaked and you're already running very-very late for something you *swore* you'd be on time for... So, um, let's just say that we called it a successful day when, at the end, nobody was seriously injured or missing, and everybody knew they were loved. That's all it takes to make it a great day, right? (Sometimes, yes.) And to be honest, my 7yo ROCKS. That kid is awesome in a crisis! Wow.
Today? Much better. James and John had games out of town, thankfully both at the same field in the same town (woohoo! yes, it's the small things) so Zorak took them. Smidge had a game in town, so I took him, Em and JasonBaby... yeah, I'm thinkin' his morning went a bit more smoothly than mine. All three boys won their games. But more to the point, all three boys "showed up" for their games, and played well. They felt good, and rightly so. We came home, grilled kabobs, played in the dirt and the grass, and crashed hard at the end of the day.
Zorak and I watched Shaun of the Dead and laughed ourselves silly. I know, it seems weird to laugh at at zombie movie. But what can I say? Well, not much. We are weird, and it was funny. And I'm still giggling.
Then we realized it's been raining for a while, and gee, that lightning seems awfully frequent, and hey - whaddya say we check the weather channel? So, in case you're thinking of calling tomorrow - yes, there were tornadoes, yes, we're okay, and um, no, we didn't go to the basement because by the time we realized there were warnings and watches and alerts galore, they were almost expired. What's the sense in waking everybody at one in the morning, anyway? And it's not like we'd go down there without them! So, the family that's oblivious together... yeah...
So what about you guys? Having a good weekend? Tomorrow is Mother's Day! I'm getting a concrete pier and some extra lovin's. Probably will make pancakes since a little bribery never hurts. Do you know what you're getting/giving/doing for Mother's Day?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Today? Much better. James and John had games out of town, thankfully both at the same field in the same town (woohoo! yes, it's the small things) so Zorak took them. Smidge had a game in town, so I took him, Em and JasonBaby... yeah, I'm thinkin' his morning went a bit more smoothly than mine. All three boys won their games. But more to the point, all three boys "showed up" for their games, and played well. They felt good, and rightly so. We came home, grilled kabobs, played in the dirt and the grass, and crashed hard at the end of the day.
Zorak and I watched Shaun of the Dead and laughed ourselves silly. I know, it seems weird to laugh at at zombie movie. But what can I say? Well, not much. We are weird, and it was funny. And I'm still giggling.
Then we realized it's been raining for a while, and gee, that lightning seems awfully frequent, and hey - whaddya say we check the weather channel? So, in case you're thinking of calling tomorrow - yes, there were tornadoes, yes, we're okay, and um, no, we didn't go to the basement because by the time we realized there were warnings and watches and alerts galore, they were almost expired. What's the sense in waking everybody at one in the morning, anyway? And it's not like we'd go down there without them! So, the family that's oblivious together... yeah...
So what about you guys? Having a good weekend? Tomorrow is Mother's Day! I'm getting a concrete pier and some extra lovin's. Probably will make pancakes since a little bribery never hurts. Do you know what you're getting/giving/doing for Mother's Day?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, May 9
Yet more visit photos
Getting tired of them yet? I hope not, because we're having fun taking them!
LB taught the boys how to make Fresh Rolls earlier this week. They caught on fast and had no trouble taking over the kitchen. 
Allow me to say, here, that as much as I believe in keeping kids in the kitchen, and as wonderful as I think it is for the children to cook with their parents... I've discovered that it's a whole lot less stressful to stand in another room while someone else cooks with your children. If you can lure someone to your home to do this, go for it! Wow.
Allow me to say, here, that as much as I believe in keeping kids in the kitchen, and as wonderful as I think it is for the children to cook with their parents... I've discovered that it's a whole lot less stressful to stand in another room while someone else cooks with your children. If you can lure someone to your home to do this, go for it! Wow. Yesterday, we went to the Wheeler Wildlife Refuge. We were there for two and a half hours, and that was not nearly long enough to see all that we wanted to see. I think we'd have made more forward motion if they didn't have these wonderful, plush chairs in the Visitor's Center lobby. It's not the chairs so much as it is that the chairs are set in front of a glass wall that overlooks a little garden with bird feeders. You could put quite a dent in your life list while sitting there! However, the bulk of my bird knowlege being contained in the Cardinalis cardinalis, and the neighbors trespassing rooster, I'll have to leave the bird sightings to LB to share. While LB visited with the volunteers at the desk, the kids and I splayed out to watch birds and kill the batteries on the world's coolest bird song book.
We did, however, go properly prepared. We first stopped at our little fruit stand on Hwy 67. I love this place. They're nice to the kids, they have great fruit, plus good local honey and other snacks. Not to mention, they are always nice to the kids. Those three little traits turned us into loyal and regular customers, and we buy a large portion of our produce there during the year. They have a fantastic nursery section, too, so of course we had to play in there for a bit. I have no clue what this gorgeous plant is, but we must get some for the house.
They vibrate! Or, at least the ones there do. I reached down to feel the leaves (they beg to be touched, don't they?) and it was vibrating. So I tried a few other leaves. All of them, quivvering like mad. After I checked to see if there as some freakishly large spider or insect in there shaking the stems (there wasn't), I asked LB to touch it. Now, she'll tell you I didn't warn her. But I did. I said, "Hey, this plant is vibrating." Or something like that. In the leaping and giggling and further plant-fondling that followed, I forgot what I'd said, exactly. But I swear to you, I warned her! I wish we'd anticipated that EmBaby was going to grab the leaves on it, because the look she shot us was priceless. LB and I laughed so hard over that. She touched every leaf on those plants after the initial shock wore off.
They vibrate! Or, at least the ones there do. I reached down to feel the leaves (they beg to be touched, don't they?) and it was vibrating. So I tried a few other leaves. All of them, quivvering like mad. After I checked to see if there as some freakishly large spider or insect in there shaking the stems (there wasn't), I asked LB to touch it. Now, she'll tell you I didn't warn her. But I did. I said, "Hey, this plant is vibrating." Or something like that. In the leaping and giggling and further plant-fondling that followed, I forgot what I'd said, exactly. But I swear to you, I warned her! I wish we'd anticipated that EmBaby was going to grab the leaves on it, because the look she shot us was priceless. LB and I laughed so hard over that. She touched every leaf on those plants after the initial shock wore off.One of my staples for any outing that will involve walking is the wagon. 
This poor wagon has seen better days, it's true. But as long as the bottom continues to hold out, there's nothing wrong with this wagon that a folded sheet and a little WD-40 won't take care of. It will easily hold a cooler, drinks, snacks, diaper bag, and a worn out toddler or two. And when we aren't using it as a trail limo, it can go back to hauling straw, dirt, and children down the driveway. (Ask LB about that, too. She'd heard about it, but that's just not the same as catching a harrowing glimpse of it, first hand.)
Our pace has been slow and leisurely. Thursday turned out to be a shockingly laid-back day. No practice FOR ANYONE. No Scouts. I hardly knew what to do with all the pre-emptive angst and panic I'd built up. So, we hit the buffet and then came home to lounge about and think of reasons for LB not to pack. (We came up with plenty, but unfortunately, they'd have all left her pretty much nekkid in the airport. While that might make getting through the security line a bit easier, it wouldn't do anything to extend the visit, so we gave up and got her packed.) Tomorrow, she'll be back in the loving arms of her family, who so graciously held the fort for her while she came to visit. We'll miss her (and Smidge is not entirely convinced that her family needs her more than he does!), but it's been a lovely visit, a wonderful visit, and I'm so grateful for the time to get to know our Needleroozer better. She's left us with warm memories, new woodless pencils (who knew such a thing existed?!) and anticipation of another visit with her one day.
Kiss those babies (and hug those precious friends!)
~Dy
Thursday, May 8
Tuesday, May 6
Blogging backward-- beautiful burp cloths
Gah, this never works (although the unintentional alliteration is kind of fun to say). OK, we've been showered with thoughtful things the past month, and I was going to start with the most recent and work my way back to get caught up, but you know I wouldn't get caught up and remember to give credit where credit is due. So, I have to go back two weeks, to the first package that arrived. Isn't this lovely?
These are burp cloths from the talented and sweet Emily, at Laundry and Lullabies. (THANK YOU, EMILY!)
What a great idea - thoroughly practical and helpful, but prettier than just slinging a rag over your shoulder and calling it good, no?
I've had these pictures waiting for a couple of weeks, but have been too busy, you know, using them, to post the pictures. (Sorry about the delay!)
These are burp cloths from the talented and sweet Emily, at Laundry and Lullabies. (THANK YOU, EMILY!)What a great idea - thoroughly practical and helpful, but prettier than just slinging a rag over your shoulder and calling it good, no?
I've had these pictures waiting for a couple of weeks, but have been too busy, you know, using them, to post the pictures. (Sorry about the delay!)Kiss those babies!
~Dy
~Dy
Monday, May 5
Why We Haven't Blogged...
We have Our Nice Lady!!
We've been busy taking walks, chatting, checking out the birds and foliage (she knows WAY more about both than we do - YAY!)...
...snuggling the baby...
...doing art... (I swear, my kids have done more art in the last three days than they've done, cumulatively, in the last nine years! They're in heaven!)
...doing more art... (told ya!)
...and staring at the baby... (who has begun to stare back, and smile, and even sing)...
LB is the most gracious guest. I hope we can make her feel at home here. The kids adore her, and so do Zorak and I. This is when I wish even more than usual that we all lived closer together. There are many other things to post, and I'll do that in bits and pieces tonight - a beautiful blanket (two, actually!), a box of goodies, and some really great artwork.
Zorak worked himself to the bone over the weekend, but still made time to come up and do some of his famous Company Cookin' - we're feeding her well! (I hope!) The balcony is coming together, bit-by-quirky-bit. But I couldn't post pictures of that when I had pictures like this...
(Um, ignore the fly strip in the corner, please. It's been a weird week for flies.)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, April 29
Outings
(Heh. Had to type that title three times. I kept typing "poutings".)
So, Zorak and I have initiated Project Forward Motion. There's too much that needs to be done aside from the balcony. The balcony is not being as cooperative as it ought to have been, and so, not much else has been done. That needs to stop. The lower meadow and barn areas look like staging for Jurassic Park. The garden beds are more like low-budget miniatures for the aerial scenes. Ew.
The kids and I put the bumper buddy on the Suburban and headed down to the local feed shop. I love this place. Their prices are reasonable. Their staff is helpful. They have fantastic wooden chairs and benches out front. And they have moonpies, which, rumor has it, if the kids ingest enough of those before they turn 18, will bestow upon the children magic "from here" status. Yesiree, gotta love the local feed shop.
We bought five fly strips (I know, ew, but the flies have been horrible this week, and if we've got to look at them, we'd rather they be imobile), some grass seed (in bulk, how cool do I feel now? To keep the clover at bay near the house so James doesn't puff up like a bloodshot Michelin Man), three bales of wheat straw (for mulch), a gazillion packets of seeds for the salad bed (plus sunflowers for the sunflower house, and a stray packet of random flowers because Smidge said he wanted to grow them for me, and that just totally melted my little stressed-out, grinch-like heart). Oh, and I reserved a watering trough. Heh. Now I feel very cool, indeed. Of course, it's mostly just for washing the dog, right now. But someday we'll have something that will want to drink out of it, and then we'll have it.
We came home, mowed the upper meadow, weeded the salad bed, and then headed out to the fields. James had practice. Smidge had a game. I skipped James' practice in order to watch Smidge's game. Oh, how *cute* are 20 four-year-olds scampering around after the World's Slowest Moving Ball? Throw in the little matching outfits, and it's like watching dress rehearsals for a Dick Van Dyke musical. Simply fantastic. Another win. More nax. Then we hung out at the park for half an hour and let them run in circles and use their outside voices.
John, who is tumbling headlong into Young Man-Hood, leapt from the car before I had the keys out, and worked on the upper meadow some more. Wow. That lawnmower is still almost as big as he is, and yet he gets on it and gets the job done. Zorak made awesome salmon patties, and then we all crashed. Hard. As a matter of fact, the typos are only getting worse and more difficult to spot, so I'm going to stop now. But thank you for your encouraging words this morning. I can't tell you how glad I am to know that 1) the kids won't remember, 2) I'm not the only one, 3) this, too, shall pass. You're the best, you know that?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
So, Zorak and I have initiated Project Forward Motion. There's too much that needs to be done aside from the balcony. The balcony is not being as cooperative as it ought to have been, and so, not much else has been done. That needs to stop. The lower meadow and barn areas look like staging for Jurassic Park. The garden beds are more like low-budget miniatures for the aerial scenes. Ew.
The kids and I put the bumper buddy on the Suburban and headed down to the local feed shop. I love this place. Their prices are reasonable. Their staff is helpful. They have fantastic wooden chairs and benches out front. And they have moonpies, which, rumor has it, if the kids ingest enough of those before they turn 18, will bestow upon the children magic "from here" status. Yesiree, gotta love the local feed shop.
We bought five fly strips (I know, ew, but the flies have been horrible this week, and if we've got to look at them, we'd rather they be imobile), some grass seed (in bulk, how cool do I feel now? To keep the clover at bay near the house so James doesn't puff up like a bloodshot Michelin Man), three bales of wheat straw (for mulch), a gazillion packets of seeds for the salad bed (plus sunflowers for the sunflower house, and a stray packet of random flowers because Smidge said he wanted to grow them for me, and that just totally melted my little stressed-out, grinch-like heart). Oh, and I reserved a watering trough. Heh. Now I feel very cool, indeed. Of course, it's mostly just for washing the dog, right now. But someday we'll have something that will want to drink out of it, and then we'll have it.
We came home, mowed the upper meadow, weeded the salad bed, and then headed out to the fields. James had practice. Smidge had a game. I skipped James' practice in order to watch Smidge's game. Oh, how *cute* are 20 four-year-olds scampering around after the World's Slowest Moving Ball? Throw in the little matching outfits, and it's like watching dress rehearsals for a Dick Van Dyke musical. Simply fantastic. Another win. More nax. Then we hung out at the park for half an hour and let them run in circles and use their outside voices.
John, who is tumbling headlong into Young Man-Hood, leapt from the car before I had the keys out, and worked on the upper meadow some more. Wow. That lawnmower is still almost as big as he is, and yet he gets on it and gets the job done. Zorak made awesome salmon patties, and then we all crashed. Hard. As a matter of fact, the typos are only getting worse and more difficult to spot, so I'm going to stop now. But thank you for your encouraging words this morning. I can't tell you how glad I am to know that 1) the kids won't remember, 2) I'm not the only one, 3) this, too, shall pass. You're the best, you know that?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
*whine* I am SO bad at this.
I need a personal assistant.
I managed to remember that James had an impromptu batting practice last night. Yay.
Unfortunately, it looks like I *forgot* that John and Smidge both had games... last night.
*sigh* I am such a loser. Who thought I could do this job, anyway? Seriously. I'm pretty sure anybody who knows me well knows I'm not capable of doing this thing well...
My poor kids.
I managed to remember that James had an impromptu batting practice last night. Yay.
Unfortunately, it looks like I *forgot* that John and Smidge both had games... last night.
*sigh* I am such a loser. Who thought I could do this job, anyway? Seriously. I'm pretty sure anybody who knows me well knows I'm not capable of doing this thing well...
My poor kids.
Trash Day & Life
The back of the Suburban is full-to-the-roof with cardboard for recycling. We've stopped by twice in the last week, only to find that the bin is completely jam-packed. I don't think you could fit a flattened shirt box in there. The boys and I talked about how this could be encouraging (SO many people are recycling their cardboard) or discouraging (the folks who look after the bins are not keeping up very well), and that often we can choose how we'll look at things. My knee-jerk reaction is the latter (the' slackin' dogs), but I make a conscientious decision to pick the former (how wonderful that it's not just us!) in order that the boys will learn to be more positive. It's either going to work like a charm, or they're going to decide their mother is a bi-polar hypocrite. Not sure which, but one can hope. Anyway, today was trash day, and I've *got* to get the Suburban cleaned out. So I really hope the recycle bins are empty today. :-S
The Big Boys returned from their Cub Adventure Weekend with Scouts. They had a good time, although all three of them (Zorak included) said it was a little over-regulated. Saturday's activities started at 6:30AM, and ran in one-hour blocks, back-to-back, until after 8PM, with the only free time being a small slot after lunch. If you had to pee, or wanted ice cream, you had to miss the opening portion of your next activity. From what they heard, last year's camp was badly under-planned, so this seems to have been a pendulum year, as the council tries to find the right blend. Next year's camp-out should be a happy medium. And, in the end, it was time well-spent for the guys. They had a good time, stuffed themselves silly at Huddle House (which Zorak describes as a "clean Waffle House," if you can imagine such a thing) on the way out, and were home before noon Sunday morning.
I forgot to remind James not to argue about government guidelines. Oops. So during the nutrition & cooking segment, he decided to die on the whole-milk vs. skim-milk hill. *sigh* It's hard to live in a grey world when you see things so very black-and-white. I forget how hard it is to grow up, to learn that keeping your philosophies to yourself doesn't mean you're compromising your principles, to realize that it's okay to quietly live your life while you smile and nod... and yet, in the process, still learn that it's important to stand up for what you know is right, that you have to speak up against abuse and manipulation, that you can't go with the flow (if everybody else jumped off a bridge... yeah, yeah, we know). Pick your battles. Stand firm. Be flexible. Gah! I forget what a tricky landmine maze Life is to maneuver! He's learning, though, and I really believe he'll be just fine in the end.
It was good to have them back. I'm not sure who was more excited: Smidge, who just about burst blood vessels in his head from squealing when they arrived (he did ten laps up and down the hallway, doing his Paul Revere impression, before the guys got to the front door); EmBaby, who had been looking for them all weekend; Me, who really missed them in so many ways I didn't expect to. Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder. Last night we had hot dogs and kielbasa on the grill, made s'mores, and told jokes all evening. It was wonderful to hear jokes that make sense again! I could even hang with the off-color bodily fluid humor... for a little while. ;-)
And today, we have much preparation to do! We have big plans for this weekend! But BabyJ is up, so that'll have to wait for a later post.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The Big Boys returned from their Cub Adventure Weekend with Scouts. They had a good time, although all three of them (Zorak included) said it was a little over-regulated. Saturday's activities started at 6:30AM, and ran in one-hour blocks, back-to-back, until after 8PM, with the only free time being a small slot after lunch. If you had to pee, or wanted ice cream, you had to miss the opening portion of your next activity. From what they heard, last year's camp was badly under-planned, so this seems to have been a pendulum year, as the council tries to find the right blend. Next year's camp-out should be a happy medium. And, in the end, it was time well-spent for the guys. They had a good time, stuffed themselves silly at Huddle House (which Zorak describes as a "clean Waffle House," if you can imagine such a thing) on the way out, and were home before noon Sunday morning.
I forgot to remind James not to argue about government guidelines. Oops. So during the nutrition & cooking segment, he decided to die on the whole-milk vs. skim-milk hill. *sigh* It's hard to live in a grey world when you see things so very black-and-white. I forget how hard it is to grow up, to learn that keeping your philosophies to yourself doesn't mean you're compromising your principles, to realize that it's okay to quietly live your life while you smile and nod... and yet, in the process, still learn that it's important to stand up for what you know is right, that you have to speak up against abuse and manipulation, that you can't go with the flow (if everybody else jumped off a bridge... yeah, yeah, we know). Pick your battles. Stand firm. Be flexible. Gah! I forget what a tricky landmine maze Life is to maneuver! He's learning, though, and I really believe he'll be just fine in the end.
It was good to have them back. I'm not sure who was more excited: Smidge, who just about burst blood vessels in his head from squealing when they arrived (he did ten laps up and down the hallway, doing his Paul Revere impression, before the guys got to the front door); EmBaby, who had been looking for them all weekend; Me, who really missed them in so many ways I didn't expect to. Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder. Last night we had hot dogs and kielbasa on the grill, made s'mores, and told jokes all evening. It was wonderful to hear jokes that make sense again! I could even hang with the off-color bodily fluid humor... for a little while. ;-)
And today, we have much preparation to do! We have big plans for this weekend! But BabyJ is up, so that'll have to wait for a later post.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, April 28
So, um, on the 2006 models...
Where's the volume control button?
...just wondering.
Kiss those (very loud) babies!
~Dy
...just wondering.
Kiss those (very loud) babies!
~Dy
Saturday, April 26
Smidge's First T-Ball Game
Well, according to him, the highlights were as follows:
There was a small wardrobe malfunction at one point...
But in the end, it was all good. HOME! SCORE!
And did I mention they had snacks after the game? Yup. This is the big times, and he is on top of the world.
Sadly, I ended up missing the whole game. EmBaby was napping, so Zorak took the boys. She had just awoken and we were going to head out, when Zorak called to say John's practice wasn't a practice, it was a game. He needed his uniform! (That meant I needed to find all the parts to his uniform. Next year, I want the uniforms to be glow-in-the-dark shirts and pants, with blinking belts.) We got John his uniform and just as we pulled out to head to Smidge's game, Zorak called to say it was over. *sigh* This is when I think there could be advantages to time travel, astral projection, or good, old-fashioned cloning. (joking! I'm joking!) However, Smidge was so excited to have the snacks, the win, and the promise of future games, that he forgave me for missing his Very First Game. Ah, we're so blessed! I get to make it up to him on Tuesday.
Good stuff, this.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
He made several good hits, and stayed on top of things... for the most part...We got NAX!Ours team did WON!Did you see my NAX?!
There was a small wardrobe malfunction at one point...
But in the end, it was all good. HOME! SCORE!
And did I mention they had snacks after the game? Yup. This is the big times, and he is on top of the world.Sadly, I ended up missing the whole game. EmBaby was napping, so Zorak took the boys. She had just awoken and we were going to head out, when Zorak called to say John's practice wasn't a practice, it was a game. He needed his uniform! (That meant I needed to find all the parts to his uniform. Next year, I want the uniforms to be glow-in-the-dark shirts and pants, with blinking belts.) We got John his uniform and just as we pulled out to head to Smidge's game, Zorak called to say it was over. *sigh* This is when I think there could be advantages to time travel, astral projection, or good, old-fashioned cloning. (joking! I'm joking!) However, Smidge was so excited to have the snacks, the win, and the promise of future games, that he forgave me for missing his Very First Game. Ah, we're so blessed! I get to make it up to him on Tuesday.
Good stuff, this.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, April 24
Busy Day!
Em wasn't so sure the day would go well. She did her hair and wanted to show James. I had to tell her James was in town. She grunted her disappointment. Then I gave her a bagel and she asked for one for Smidge. Had to admit that he, too, was not home. More grunting, accompanied by the furrowing of brows. When we finally got to the fact that John was also MIA, she lost it and stood in the living room crying, "Em a want her boys!" She finally accepted that it was just us three this morning, and curled up to eat her bagel all alone on the couch. I couldn't resist snapping a picture. This is Em, of the Wild Hair Clan.
Her prospects improved considerably when I told her we could go into town "to find the boys" and have a picnic. That was a great pick-me-up! And so, we cleaned up a bit and headed into town. The picnic was a blast. Me-Wa and Me-Tae were there. The weather was perfect. The other kids there were delightful. Just couldn't ask for a nicer day for an outing.
Smidge was walking ten feet tall, since he got to spend the day hanging with the guys. I think this helped him not feel quite so small today, and that was really good stuff!
Smidge's game was tonight. He had a wonderful time, and his team won. I'll blog about that in a separate post, since there are pictures to go with it, and Blogger limits the number of images per post.
For now, though, it's time for bed. I've got three guys to pack off to camp for the weekend, and a whole lot of cleaning to do in the meantime!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Her prospects improved considerably when I told her we could go into town "to find the boys" and have a picnic. That was a great pick-me-up! And so, we cleaned up a bit and headed into town. The picnic was a blast. Me-Wa and Me-Tae were there. The weather was perfect. The other kids there were delightful. Just couldn't ask for a nicer day for an outing.
For now, though, it's time for bed. I've got three guys to pack off to camp for the weekend, and a whole lot of cleaning to do in the meantime!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, April 23
What a Wild Ride!
A day begun with a SNAFU can end with... a very tired woman and five exhausted-but-happy children. Not a bad trade off, really.
In obvservance of "Take Your Child to Work Day", James and John got up early and went to work with Zorak. Turns out it's actually tomorrow. So, they got in a little practice run. And I got a call to come into town and get them at lunch. Oops.
Since we were going to be in town, anyway, I hated to just come right back home. I thought about all the field trips we don't take because it's such a trek into town. Then I remembered we have a membership to the Space and Rocket Center. It took me most of the drive up, but I finally put two and two together and came up with an idea. We had luch at the Miso House (the boys' second-favorite eatery in Huntsville), where we ate dongatsu and gyoza and sushi rolls until we thought we would explode, and then we headed off to play.
You can't tell it from John's expression, but we spent enough time walking through the museum so that nobody would be likely to explode on this ride. I did, however, stand far, far away while the ride ran. They are half mine, after all, and I never did fare well on rides like this. They, however, had a blast.
We stayed for about four hours, saw the Saturn V on display, enjoyed a presentation on propulsion systems and fuels, toured the moon, and ate sno-cones. (It said Shave Ice, but I know if I just said we ate Shave Ice, somebody who has been to Hawaii would pop up to say it's *nothing* like what you get in Hawaii. It was, however, far better than the sno-cones at the ball park, and hit the spot perfectly in the afternoon heat. The boys deemed them good enough, in fact, that Smidge suggested we swing by the Center for these before baseball games instead of getting the sno-cones at the snack shack. What's an extra 70 miles here and there, right?) Then we high-tailed it out of there just in time to beat the rush-hour traffic. What a fantastic day!
And James wanted me to post this picture. He put JT to sleep all on his own, and was so proud. He said, "I think I just have a way with babies, Mom."
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
In obvservance of "Take Your Child to Work Day", James and John got up early and went to work with Zorak. Turns out it's actually tomorrow. So, they got in a little practice run. And I got a call to come into town and get them at lunch. Oops.
Since we were going to be in town, anyway, I hated to just come right back home. I thought about all the field trips we don't take because it's such a trek into town. Then I remembered we have a membership to the Space and Rocket Center. It took me most of the drive up, but I finally put two and two together and came up with an idea. We had luch at the Miso House (the boys' second-favorite eatery in Huntsville), where we ate dongatsu and gyoza and sushi rolls until we thought we would explode, and then we headed off to play.
You can't tell it from John's expression, but we spent enough time walking through the museum so that nobody would be likely to explode on this ride. I did, however, stand far, far away while the ride ran. They are half mine, after all, and I never did fare well on rides like this. They, however, had a blast.
We stayed for about four hours, saw the Saturn V on display, enjoyed a presentation on propulsion systems and fuels, toured the moon, and ate sno-cones. (It said Shave Ice, but I know if I just said we ate Shave Ice, somebody who has been to Hawaii would pop up to say it's *nothing* like what you get in Hawaii. It was, however, far better than the sno-cones at the ball park, and hit the spot perfectly in the afternoon heat. The boys deemed them good enough, in fact, that Smidge suggested we swing by the Center for these before baseball games instead of getting the sno-cones at the snack shack. What's an extra 70 miles here and there, right?) Then we high-tailed it out of there just in time to beat the rush-hour traffic. What a fantastic day!
And James wanted me to post this picture. He put JT to sleep all on his own, and was so proud. He said, "I think I just have a way with babies, Mom."
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, April 22
From the Bleachers
I do love my second born. Honestly, I do. So why are there so seldom pictures of him here lately? Well, you see, he's seven, and a natural-born comic (or, he fancies that he is). Loosely translated, this means he is incapable of allowing the click of the shutter to pass without widening his eyes, flaring his nostrils, sticking his head waaaaay out in front of his body, and baring his teeth in a Dracula-like stance. He's a handsome young man, but Adonis, himself, wouldn't pass for photogenic with such a pose. And so, I am left to take pictures of him when he isn't looking... those turn out nicely.
... if a bit solemn. Which is ironic, considering my reason for sneaking up behind him to snap photographs in the first place.
And then there is Smidge, who is now Quite Serious, since he is now a Ball Player. So, we must pose. We must contemplate. We must get right up there in Mom's face to make sure she can see just how Very Serious we are...
(Ah, those eyes. I get absolutely lost in those magical, twinkling eyes.)
But don't let his solemnity fool you. It's not all tough practice and serious hardball around here...
The games are fun to watch, and we're proud of the great kids on all the teams, but the action in the bleachers is where the real fun begins most of the time. I think there's more activity there than on the field. So, while one child and his teammates are out there learning to pay attention, work together, and hone new skills on the field, the siblings are busy doing new things in their own realm, too. Sometimes they're learning to be encouraging, or to learn by watching. But there's more to it than that...
Whether it's the pack of two-year-olds who are content to do laps around the trash cans (do you remember the caucus race from Alice in Wonderland -- Backward, forward, outward, inward/ Bottom to the top/ Never a beginning,/ There can never be a stop -- I sing that in my head everytime they get started)...
or the herd of four-year-olds running back and forth, looking for a little more independence, more room to roam, more autonomy without sacrificing the security of being able to pop back in for a hug and a snuggle every now and then...
or the older kids comparing anecdotes and jokes, critiquing the game, heading off to the water fountain or the snack shack on their own...
it's fun to watch them stretch their little metaphorical wings just a little bit more each year, and to see them get aloft and enjoy the flight.
They'll stretch their wings fully one day, and soar off, and not return to stay... that day will come all too soon for us, although just at the right time for them. I hope I don't miss any opportunity to watch these little practice flights, though, in the meantime.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
... if a bit solemn. Which is ironic, considering my reason for sneaking up behind him to snap photographs in the first place.
And then there is Smidge, who is now Quite Serious, since he is now a Ball Player. So, we must pose. We must contemplate. We must get right up there in Mom's face to make sure she can see just how Very Serious we are...
(Ah, those eyes. I get absolutely lost in those magical, twinkling eyes.)
But don't let his solemnity fool you. It's not all tough practice and serious hardball around here...
The games are fun to watch, and we're proud of the great kids on all the teams, but the action in the bleachers is where the real fun begins most of the time. I think there's more activity there than on the field. So, while one child and his teammates are out there learning to pay attention, work together, and hone new skills on the field, the siblings are busy doing new things in their own realm, too. Sometimes they're learning to be encouraging, or to learn by watching. But there's more to it than that...
Whether it's the pack of two-year-olds who are content to do laps around the trash cans (do you remember the caucus race from Alice in Wonderland -- Backward, forward, outward, inward/ Bottom to the top/ Never a beginning,/ There can never be a stop -- I sing that in my head everytime they get started)...
or the herd of four-year-olds running back and forth, looking for a little more independence, more room to roam, more autonomy without sacrificing the security of being able to pop back in for a hug and a snuggle every now and then...
or the older kids comparing anecdotes and jokes, critiquing the game, heading off to the water fountain or the snack shack on their own...
it's fun to watch them stretch their little metaphorical wings just a little bit more each year, and to see them get aloft and enjoy the flight.
They'll stretch their wings fully one day, and soar off, and not return to stay... that day will come all too soon for us, although just at the right time for them. I hope I don't miss any opportunity to watch these little practice flights, though, in the meantime.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, April 21
I need a massage therapist.
Wonder if there are any studying at the University who need to rent a room in exchange for taking on a family clientele?
Three piers, poured and curing. Plus one of the gaping holes up where the ledger board fits against the house. We're making progress. WooHoo!
Another day of practices and games. Long day, but thankfully, all at the same park. Yay.
Ran over a screw at some point today. I'm not sure when or where, but the leaking air made a spectacular noise that the boys noticed when we piled out of the car after the game tonight. Thankfully, they thought to say something about it!
Zorak to the rescue - he not only ran to the store to buy a tire plug, but he helped get the littles down before he left. The tire is now healed. Mmm, my hero!
And today's thought:
Three piers, poured and curing. Plus one of the gaping holes up where the ledger board fits against the house. We're making progress. WooHoo!
The boys did Latin, reading, piano and math... we're back in the saddle, again! Technically, we're covering history and reading together as we study legends from the Middle Ages, so that's sort of a double-bonus.
Another day of practices and games. Long day, but thankfully, all at the same park. Yay.
Ran over a screw at some point today. I'm not sure when or where, but the leaking air made a spectacular noise that the boys noticed when we piled out of the car after the game tonight. Thankfully, they thought to say something about it!
Zorak to the rescue - he not only ran to the store to buy a tire plug, but he helped get the littles down before he left. The tire is now healed. Mmm, my hero!
And today's thought:
I am really thankful some things aren't any bigger than they are...
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Saturday, April 19
Paparazzi
Or, more accurately, "paparazzo", since it's just me, stalking the poor little guy. Considering he's immobile, I think he's tolerating the whole thing quite well. He goes from unsuspecting, to irritated (the pre-flash green light on the camera seems to get to him), to resigned and then... hey, what's that over there? (aka - ignoring me) in no time at all! What a pro!
And yes, I do snug up the straps on the seat. With the weather as wonky as it is lately, however, I never know how many layers he'll have on when we leave the house, so I loosen the straps and then adjust them after he's in. Much easier than trying to loosen straps around an irate newborn who has been stuffed into too-tight straps, believe me. This way, it's only the green light from the camera flash that makes him furrow his little, invisible brows.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, April 18
Good news and Bad news
The good news is that, after two and a half years, we finally figured out where the leach lines are for the septic system!
More good news is that we've got three holes dug for the footers and piers, and are ready to pour concrete.
The bad news is...
that the leach lines are...
right where the piers go.
Gah.
I'll go kiss my babies as soon as I've washed my hands. *shudder*
~Dy
More good news is that we've got three holes dug for the footers and piers, and are ready to pour concrete.
The bad news is...
that the leach lines are...
right where the piers go.
Gah.
I'll go kiss my babies as soon as I've washed my hands. *shudder*
~Dy
Thursday, April 17
Not so Smooth, but Not too Bad.
While Smidge lamented my executive decision that he shall wear sweats to practice, I sat down and wrote this:
Smidge's practice was fun to watch (it's like a miniature version of some zany, madcap film or newsreel from the 1930's, where all the action is choppy and the people seem to be hurrying everywhere).
James' team got absolutely spanked by the other team. Wow, they're good. Their pitcher is amazing. I found myself cringing everytime he pitched - if you ever duck involuntarily when you drive through a parking garage, you know the sensation. Next time we play them, I think I'll sit farther back. Our guys just couldn't seem to get their hands on the ball. We love the coaches on James' team. No matter how poorly the kids performed, the coaches were encouraging. No matter how many times the kids missed a hit or a catch, the coaches had something positive to say to help the boys. But, let one of our kids throw a fit (the catcher last night was so frustrated with himself, and he did lose it at one point), and the coaches come down hard and fast to shut it down. "You can't play with an attitude like that. Get it together." We thought he'd pull the kid from the game, but no. Even then, the coaches understood the child's frustration and after they set him straight, they showed him a lot of grace. Every parent in the bleachers just beamed.
James blew me away last night. The ball headed straight for him, right behind third base, and James not only saw it, but ran up under it. For a child who is terrified of getting hit with the ball, that was *huge*. The sun was in his eyes, and he didn't catch it - it went right between his glove and his head - but he got up there, glove extended, and gave it a go. Two months ago, there's no way he'd have attempted that. I was so proud of him.
AND, (trumpets sound!) Zorak came home early! He showed up at the game, to the total and utter delight of Smidge and EmBaby. And myself. :-) He took the big boys to Scouts and I brought the three littles home, where there was much crying and peeing on things and talking incessantly. It was good. Chaotic, but good.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
And here, I thought we were doing so well. Hmpf.It is 3:56. Smidge has practice at four. His uniform isn't dry yet. It's not even passably damp, you know, where you *could* make him wear it and just tell him not to complain or pick at the damp crotch. Nope. It's. Wet. Because I, in all my excitement over not having to be in Falkville tonight, forgot to actually turn ON the dryer on our way out the door.
Smidge's practice was fun to watch (it's like a miniature version of some zany, madcap film or newsreel from the 1930's, where all the action is choppy and the people seem to be hurrying everywhere).
James' team got absolutely spanked by the other team. Wow, they're good. Their pitcher is amazing. I found myself cringing everytime he pitched - if you ever duck involuntarily when you drive through a parking garage, you know the sensation. Next time we play them, I think I'll sit farther back. Our guys just couldn't seem to get their hands on the ball. We love the coaches on James' team. No matter how poorly the kids performed, the coaches were encouraging. No matter how many times the kids missed a hit or a catch, the coaches had something positive to say to help the boys. But, let one of our kids throw a fit (the catcher last night was so frustrated with himself, and he did lose it at one point), and the coaches come down hard and fast to shut it down. "You can't play with an attitude like that. Get it together." We thought he'd pull the kid from the game, but no. Even then, the coaches understood the child's frustration and after they set him straight, they showed him a lot of grace. Every parent in the bleachers just beamed.
James blew me away last night. The ball headed straight for him, right behind third base, and James not only saw it, but ran up under it. For a child who is terrified of getting hit with the ball, that was *huge*. The sun was in his eyes, and he didn't catch it - it went right between his glove and his head - but he got up there, glove extended, and gave it a go. Two months ago, there's no way he'd have attempted that. I was so proud of him.
AND, (trumpets sound!) Zorak came home early! He showed up at the game, to the total and utter delight of Smidge and EmBaby. And myself. :-) He took the big boys to Scouts and I brought the three littles home, where there was much crying and peeing on things and talking incessantly. It was good. Chaotic, but good.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Yay!
James' game is a home game. Smidge's practice is at the same field. It's supposed to be 75 today, and already it's beautiful out.
I am so thankful. :-)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
I am so thankful. :-)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, April 16
Work-In-Progress Wednesday
We did not work on the basement today. No, today, I took a deep breath, exhaled, repeated those two steps until I nearly hyperventilated and then, in my best non-squeaky, didn't-need-this-before-coffee voice, reminded the children that *knowing* the right thing to do, and *doing* it are not the same thing. However, they do need to go hand-in-hand at some point before we unleash you (the children) on an unsuspecting world. *sigh* So, we worked in the house, where I could keep them close and help them work on little things. You know, the usual - Impulse control. Paying attention to where you're walking. Impulse control. Ability to focus on the task at hand. And, a little more impulse control, just to liven things up a bit.
We accomplished so much! They always amaze me with their *ability* to work. They're always willing to work, but without that constant adult presence, they, um... forget. It's not intentional, and it's not malicious. They just forget. Which, to be truthful, doesn't feel horribly encouraging at eight in the morning. However, it is. Their hearts are good. It's just their brains that need a little fine tuning. And when I think ahead to the teen years, I'd rather have to deal with a good-hearted space-cadet than a machinating evil genius.
Today, we cleared off the two bookshelves (cleared, sorted, sifted, and purged!), the tea cart (find a home for this stuff or throw it out), and the corner hutch (where all the dishes, glasses and china live) in the living and dining areas. We cleaned them all, and then swapped the two rooms into mirror images. The green dining room is now, experimentally, the living room, and the itty-bitty living corner (not quite a room, really) is now the dining area. Corner. Whatever. I'll shoot for pictures in the morning, when the light is better. It was dark before we thought to take pictures today. It needs more tidy work but, so far, we love it.
We did laundry. We rode bikes. We played jump rope. The boys read their current selections. I started Moby Dick. Again. I enjoy it every time I start it, but I don't know what happens. Oh, yes, I do. I forget where I put the book and can't ever find it until we clean off bookshelves again. I need a Clapper to attach to whichever book I'm currently reading. Wouldn't that be handy?
The boys did such a fantastic job all day that I got a wild hair and introduced them to the Netflix Watch Now thing this afternoon. Heh. That was cool. We fixed snacks and watched The Prince and The Pauper. While we watched, I decided to be truly productive and FINALLY sewed up two of the couch cushion covers. Mostly sewed up. I can't get the recycled zippers to cooperate, so the closures are going to have to be Velcro. However, that is 2/3 of the cushion job, done! And now that the couch is against a wall, that buys me a little more time to do the body. (Planned procrastination... is that horribly wrong, or does it have a certain ring to it?)
Tomorrow is Gauntlet Day. I think James has a game way south of here and Smidge has his first game. In town. At the same time. ARGH. No clue how I'm going to pull that one off. Obviously, Smidge can't be left. However, if you read the opening few paragraphs to this post, I'm not exactly chomping at the bit right now to turn James loose with an unsuspecting adult. *sigh* I miss Zorak. (Though not just for the tag-team taxi work. Honest.)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
We accomplished so much! They always amaze me with their *ability* to work. They're always willing to work, but without that constant adult presence, they, um... forget. It's not intentional, and it's not malicious. They just forget. Which, to be truthful, doesn't feel horribly encouraging at eight in the morning. However, it is. Their hearts are good. It's just their brains that need a little fine tuning. And when I think ahead to the teen years, I'd rather have to deal with a good-hearted space-cadet than a machinating evil genius.
Today, we cleared off the two bookshelves (cleared, sorted, sifted, and purged!), the tea cart (find a home for this stuff or throw it out), and the corner hutch (where all the dishes, glasses and china live) in the living and dining areas. We cleaned them all, and then swapped the two rooms into mirror images. The green dining room is now, experimentally, the living room, and the itty-bitty living corner (not quite a room, really) is now the dining area. Corner. Whatever. I'll shoot for pictures in the morning, when the light is better. It was dark before we thought to take pictures today. It needs more tidy work but, so far, we love it.
We did laundry. We rode bikes. We played jump rope. The boys read their current selections. I started Moby Dick. Again. I enjoy it every time I start it, but I don't know what happens. Oh, yes, I do. I forget where I put the book and can't ever find it until we clean off bookshelves again. I need a Clapper to attach to whichever book I'm currently reading. Wouldn't that be handy?
The boys did such a fantastic job all day that I got a wild hair and introduced them to the Netflix Watch Now thing this afternoon. Heh. That was cool. We fixed snacks and watched The Prince and The Pauper. While we watched, I decided to be truly productive and FINALLY sewed up two of the couch cushion covers. Mostly sewed up. I can't get the recycled zippers to cooperate, so the closures are going to have to be Velcro. However, that is 2/3 of the cushion job, done! And now that the couch is against a wall, that buys me a little more time to do the body. (Planned procrastination... is that horribly wrong, or does it have a certain ring to it?)
Tomorrow is Gauntlet Day. I think James has a game way south of here and Smidge has his first game. In town. At the same time. ARGH. No clue how I'm going to pull that one off. Obviously, Smidge can't be left. However, if you read the opening few paragraphs to this post, I'm not exactly chomping at the bit right now to turn James loose with an unsuspecting adult. *sigh* I miss Zorak. (Though not just for the tag-team taxi work. Honest.)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
What Do You Get...
When you combine...
a Netflix subscription,
the watch-now feature (woohoo!),
repeated recommendations for North and South?
and a loving husband who still thanks me for not making him watch Pride and Prejudice?
A woman up way past her bedtime, riveted to the computer, wondering just how many episodes are on Disk 1!
This is worse than the time Zorak and I watched Band of Brothers... three disks at a time! But I can't. turn. it. off.
Fortunately, we don't have to be anywheretomorrow, uh, today, so the kids can hang out and eat yogurt, bagels, and the remaining turnovers (which turned out splendidly, by the way) for breakfast while I sleep it off a bit. Or while I hook up the BUNN IV drip to kick start myself in a few hours. Whatever we need to do.
Ok, back to Episode 4...
This is FUN!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
a Netflix subscription,
the watch-now feature (woohoo!),
repeated recommendations for North and South?
and a loving husband who still thanks me for not making him watch Pride and Prejudice?
A woman up way past her bedtime, riveted to the computer, wondering just how many episodes are on Disk 1!
This is worse than the time Zorak and I watched Band of Brothers... three disks at a time! But I can't. turn. it. off.
Fortunately, we don't have to be anywhere
Ok, back to Episode 4...
This is FUN!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, April 15
Encounters with the Outside World.
Found another great online book site via the WTM boards yesterday. Printed off a short story by P.G. Wodehouse, and enjoyed a lovely evening curled up in bed to read. After the day I had yesterday, this was just what the doctor ordered. Enjoy!
Classic Reader
Yesterday at the ball field was miserable. It was only 43 degrees when we got there, with winds 12-16mph. Zorak is TDY this week, so it's just me and the little guys. Otherwise, I'd have stayed home with the three smallest! I tried to stay in the snack shack with the littles, but got tired of being the only adult in a room full of unwatched children. You know, parents might want to touch base with their little girls, and keep an idea of what's going on. Too much unsupervised down-time with other kids is one time-honored way for good kids to find the wrong path, and boy are those paths abundant and appealing when you're 12 years old, no matter how bright, sweet, and smart you are. They're still just kids, and they're pretty susceptible to visits from the Bad Idea Fairy. *sigh*
One little boy in particular, though, just about found himself yanked up by the nape of his neck and hung from the coat rack. He walked in and immediately began interrupting our conversations to interject ugly things about random children, kicked his sister repeatedly (and I mean *kicked* - he wasn't playing, he was out to hurt her, and when she tried to walk away, he'd follow her and trip her), and rounded the whole performance off by swearing at anyone who would listen, complaining about his horrible mother and how, "The woman won't give me another freakin' dollar!" He started there, and ramped up to the Big Words in no time. James' game had already begun, but John and Smidge were with me, and they were just floored by the way this kid behaved.
I'll admit it, I stepped in. The interrupting, I could handle. He's five. Kids interrupt and need gentle reminders that it's not okay. So, I gently reminded. It didn't do much good, but I kept reminding and he did eventually wait for me to stop talking before he mouthed off. It was the kicking that put me over the edge, though, and I told him in no uncertain terms that it was not okay, that I have a serious problem with it, and that he had to stop. right. now. or get out. He left for a little, then came back in and began the swearing session. At least he kept his feet to himself. After only two minutes of the swearing, though, I had to say something, again. And again, when he sassed back. "The swearing isn't going to help you get what you want, you're smart enough to think of other ways to express your displeasure, and the rest of us do not need to be held captive by this venom. Period. Come on, kiddo, you can do better. I believe in you. Give it a try." He did finally realize a few things: I'm serious, I'm not backing down, I won't be cowed by a five-year-old child, and I'm right. He stopped! Glory, hallelujah! His sister's eyes were enormous, and her mouth hung open as she stood there, watching the exchange. Gah, does nobody tell this child "no"? He's still little. He doesn't have to be a bully or a demon-kid. There's a sweet little boy under all that ugly crust. But you know, by that point I was just raw around the edges and it was clear that I wouldn't be able to keep an eye on Smidge and Em and keep Jason comforted, while trying to prevent the inmates from setting the asylum on fire. So we went out into the cold. Yuck. When James' game ended, I told John's coach that I couldn't hang with the big dogs anymore and had to leave early. He was good about it.
We came home, had banana bread and hot chocolate, and the kids were very helpful in getting everybody rounded up and into bed. John helped Smidge with his toothbrushing. Smidge let him. WOOHOO! James read bedtime stories to Emily. He fell for the "one more story" fillibuster several times, then bolted down the hallway, panting, "I had to run before she could ask for one more!" They make me laugh. Jason, bless him, went to sleep at ten and stayed asleep until four, and I took full advantage of that little reprieve to get some rest, myself!
We have to be there again today. This time, I'm taking the sleeping bag, a thermos of hot chocolate, a big batch of these awesome turnovers from Chris' blog, and plenty of things for the kids to do. We'll take Set and Quiddler, some crayons and activity books, some stories, and some drawing pads. It'll be okay. And it'll be available to anyone who wants to join us. It's all good. I was just caught off-guard yesterday. But that's okay. We all learn as we go, right?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Classic Reader
Yesterday at the ball field was miserable. It was only 43 degrees when we got there, with winds 12-16mph. Zorak is TDY this week, so it's just me and the little guys. Otherwise, I'd have stayed home with the three smallest! I tried to stay in the snack shack with the littles, but got tired of being the only adult in a room full of unwatched children. You know, parents might want to touch base with their little girls, and keep an idea of what's going on. Too much unsupervised down-time with other kids is one time-honored way for good kids to find the wrong path, and boy are those paths abundant and appealing when you're 12 years old, no matter how bright, sweet, and smart you are. They're still just kids, and they're pretty susceptible to visits from the Bad Idea Fairy. *sigh*
One little boy in particular, though, just about found himself yanked up by the nape of his neck and hung from the coat rack. He walked in and immediately began interrupting our conversations to interject ugly things about random children, kicked his sister repeatedly (and I mean *kicked* - he wasn't playing, he was out to hurt her, and when she tried to walk away, he'd follow her and trip her), and rounded the whole performance off by swearing at anyone who would listen, complaining about his horrible mother and how, "The woman won't give me another freakin' dollar!" He started there, and ramped up to the Big Words in no time. James' game had already begun, but John and Smidge were with me, and they were just floored by the way this kid behaved.
I'll admit it, I stepped in. The interrupting, I could handle. He's five. Kids interrupt and need gentle reminders that it's not okay. So, I gently reminded. It didn't do much good, but I kept reminding and he did eventually wait for me to stop talking before he mouthed off. It was the kicking that put me over the edge, though, and I told him in no uncertain terms that it was not okay, that I have a serious problem with it, and that he had to stop. right. now. or get out. He left for a little, then came back in and began the swearing session. At least he kept his feet to himself. After only two minutes of the swearing, though, I had to say something, again. And again, when he sassed back. "The swearing isn't going to help you get what you want, you're smart enough to think of other ways to express your displeasure, and the rest of us do not need to be held captive by this venom. Period. Come on, kiddo, you can do better. I believe in you. Give it a try." He did finally realize a few things: I'm serious, I'm not backing down, I won't be cowed by a five-year-old child, and I'm right. He stopped! Glory, hallelujah! His sister's eyes were enormous, and her mouth hung open as she stood there, watching the exchange. Gah, does nobody tell this child "no"? He's still little. He doesn't have to be a bully or a demon-kid. There's a sweet little boy under all that ugly crust. But you know, by that point I was just raw around the edges and it was clear that I wouldn't be able to keep an eye on Smidge and Em and keep Jason comforted, while trying to prevent the inmates from setting the asylum on fire. So we went out into the cold. Yuck. When James' game ended, I told John's coach that I couldn't hang with the big dogs anymore and had to leave early. He was good about it.
We came home, had banana bread and hot chocolate, and the kids were very helpful in getting everybody rounded up and into bed. John helped Smidge with his toothbrushing. Smidge let him. WOOHOO! James read bedtime stories to Emily. He fell for the "one more story" fillibuster several times, then bolted down the hallway, panting, "I had to run before she could ask for one more!" They make me laugh. Jason, bless him, went to sleep at ten and stayed asleep until four, and I took full advantage of that little reprieve to get some rest, myself!
We have to be there again today. This time, I'm taking the sleeping bag, a thermos of hot chocolate, a big batch of these awesome turnovers from Chris' blog, and plenty of things for the kids to do. We'll take Set and Quiddler, some crayons and activity books, some stories, and some drawing pads. It'll be okay. And it'll be available to anyone who wants to join us. It's all good. I was just caught off-guard yesterday. But that's okay. We all learn as we go, right?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, April 13
Mexican Food and Pictures
Thursday, we tried a new Mexican restaurant in town. I'm always hesitant to do this, as it's a sure bet the food we find will not be "New Mexican" food. That, we can handle, being 1200 miles from New Mexico and all. Unfortunately, it's often not even actually "Mexican", but rather more El Salvadorian or Guatemalan influenced.
The enchiladas looked identical. We could only tell the difference by eating a bite of each first.
Smidge chickened out at the last minute and ordered chicken nuggets. Normally, we don't go that route, but as you can see, he was feelin' the love...
EmBaby missed all the excitement. She woke up in time to get a Peppermint Patty at the register, though, so she wasn't too bummed about the whole thing. (And the nap did wonders for her general outlook!)
(Not that those are bad, but they aren't Mexican, either, and yet they bill themselves as Mexican. I don't get it. Of course, if I were opening a restaurant, I wouldn't immediately decide that a Mexican-Chinese Buffet is the thing to do, either. Yet there are quite a few of those around the area. They all seem to be doing well, too. So, I'm guessing there are forces at work that are beyond my understanding.)
However, we were hungry and didn't want to eat in the car (the *best* Mexican food in Decatur has only drive-thru service, but it's worth eating in the car if you don't have a herd of tired children with you!) The food at this new place was different. Mostly good. The boys *loved* their enchiladas and tamales. We've never seen tamales served like this before...
Smidge chickened out at the last minute and ordered chicken nuggets. Normally, we don't go that route, but as you can see, he was feelin' the love...
But this... this took us off guard... do you know what this is?
This is, at the new restaurant, a "chile relleno". It's in a BOWL, people! It's soupy! It has that white, floaty thing on top of it! This is so. incredibly. wrong. If you aren't familiar with chile rellenos, allow me to walk you through it. "chile", according to Dictionary.com, is -noun 2. very hot and finely tapering pepper of special pungency [syn: chili] and "relleno", –adjective 1. stuffed, esp. filled with cheese: chilis rellenos.
Or, better yet - –noun 2. a chili relleno. (Which, following this thought logically, would be "a tapering pepper stuffed with cheese". Or, something loosely resembling such.) Does anything in that bowl look like what I've just described? Other than that there is, clearly, cheese? No.
I kept waiting for Zorak to try some, and when I finally couldn't take it any longer and asked him when he was going to eat it, he laughed and said he was waiting for me to try it first. We ended up bringing it home. It didn't look any more appealing after the ride. I think he ate it last night, but he hasn't said anything, so I have no idea how it tasted.
And this last one wasn't taken at the restaurant (obviously). But this is how little JT spends most of his late afternoon naps - sprawled across my thighs, out cold, while EmBaby hovers over him, sticking things to his head and my pantlegs. Good stuff, that. Bonding time and all, you know. (Have I mentioned how incredibly patient this child is? One day, he will grow up, move out, and realize that nobody else has people hovering over them, in their faces, all. the. time. I hope he doesn't hold that against us...)
We didn't get any of the piers poured on the balcony, but we've got some snazzy batter boards up, the forms made, and the concrete ready for... next weekend. Zorak's going to be too busy with work this week to get anything done on it, and I'm just not up for trying to pour concrete with the littles tweaking the difficulty factor. I've neither the skill nor the patience for that one. But that's okay. It'll be there when we get to it.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
~Dy
Sugar Daddy!
Well, that was awkward. I didn't mean to publish this post without any words!
What I *meant* to add to the title and the picture is this:
Give me a Sugar Daddy (the candy - the tooth-removing, plaque-causing, hard-caramel-on-a-stick, not some wealthy guy with a penchant for spoiled females), a sleeping bag, and a sibling to share the body heat, and we can handle any chilly, early-morning game the league wants to throw at us! Batter up!
Actually watching the game, however... Well, that's best left to the grown-ups. There's too much else to see.
"OK, you watch that side. I'll watch this side. Let me know if anything interesting happens!"
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
~Dy
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