Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The One In Which If One More Person Asks Me What I Do With All My Free Time, I'm Going To Seriously Hurt Them

...because I am so tired of hearing that.

Forgive me Bloggy friends - it has been well over a week since my last confession blog post. I have been so busy with Presidenting the- underappreciated -all -volunteer- non- paying- position lately that I barely have time to visit other blogs much less actually write -something -coherent- and- mildly amusing. I know I am supposed to say something politically correct like ..."it is so rewarding" or some shit like that - but it isn't. I am wiped.

Time for a quickie here:

My kids are so damned cute it slays me. And what better way to appreciate your own children than by hanging out with other peoples' animals kids.


Examples of adorable-ness: The little one is quite the artist. The other day, she was drawing flowers. I said "Whatcha doin?" She says {duh} "I am drawing flowers mom. See? This one's a tulip. And this one's a threelips and a fourlips (no visual necessary - I think you get it)

We're watching some dance show on tv...she is watching the dancers go 'round and 'round slowly and she's counting "One, two, three - one,two,three ...Man, the waltz is a very dizzy dance!"





I also love the fact that my eldest unmarried daughter has to clean doo-doo from the Dragon's cage. I think that is what they call 'just desserts' or something like that' I am one sick muthuh.


"Rachel's just a smudge!" Emily shouts! We found our house on Google Earth -We found our house, and gazebo and sand box and there is a tiny pink smudge next to the sandbox...Yup, my kid is immortalized on satellite. Which makes me wonder ...if I can find a tiny speck of a smudge of a 5 year old on Google Earth, imagine what the 'bad guys' can find. Hhhmmm...discuss amongst yourselves.





And I really owe JenJen an apology - she gifted me this FAB award a few weeks ago because quite frankly a few weeks ago, I gave Good Blog. Now? It's debateable.







I am delegating ...which in my role as President of the PTA (and I love a commentor who said I was putting the T and A back into PTA!) I should do in order that I may have some free time. Go check these guys and gals out , althought they need no help from me...

Sass (truly thrilled that you are back and now you are my Facebook friend so I get you all the time and I wish we actually knew each other in real life because I think we are sisters from another mister)

The Organic Meatbag (who makes me frickin' crack up every.day and is on vacation that SOB)

BeJewell (whose blog title reflects the old addage and a favorite song around here that mentions something about a musical fruit!)

And Literal Dan (who is a word nerd like me and beats my ever -lovin' ass at Lexulous 8 tiles at a time)





Oh yeah...


videoAnd this is what I do when nobody is watching. Sssshhhh - don't tell anyone that I not-so-secretly like Rocky (a.k.a Rockmaninoff, Rocky Balboa, Puff the Magic Bearded Dragon, Not Bullwinkle)

Sunday, September 13, 2009

The One With The Top Ten Alternatives for the Title of this Post


Meet Rocky Balboa, The Bearded Dragon

10) Because 'James A. Beard' Is Already Taken ...

(And Beardy, Spot and Irving weren't very dignified)

9) The One With the $5 Turtle
(We were originally thinking turtle. Remember when you were a kid and you got a $5 box turtle? Well, nowadays - they carry Russian Tortoises at your local PetCo. Land Tortoise that grow to be 300 pounds and live well into their 90's. I need no part of any pet I have to Will to my grandchildren, thank you.)

8) The One in Which She is Grateful It's Not Snake
(self-explanatory thank you...)

7) The One in Which Her List of "Pet Do's and Don'ts" Just Got Longer'
(I didn't think I needed to add 'live insect eating' to my don'ts list...but apparantly simply having rules about fur, dander, saliva, poop- scooping, cloven hooves, genus rodent, beaks, feathers, noise, and smells didn't cover enough. )

6) Whatever Happened to Flushable Pets? (aaahhh, the good ole days when you could flush your carnival gold fish ...good times, good times)

5) Why Is It That I Have This Sudden Urge to Shop For Car Insurance?

4) The One In Which Her Smile Was So Bright We Don't Need the Heat Lamp
He Likes Me, He Really Likes Me!

3) Can I Turn My Bearded Dragon Into A Vegetarian?
(I am just so grossed out by the bug thing...I can't tell you. I know they need the protien, but you have to dust them with this calcium powder kind of like Shake and Bake. EEewww)


2) The One In Which She Asks "It Gets How Fucking Big?"
(Oh yeah , when the thing starts dropping turds the size of a Collie shit - I'm so moving to Vegas and will make slot machine coin by wearing a sandwich board on the Boulevard that asks people if they want to 'Touch My Lizard'. Either that, or I'm selling it on Craig's List)


And the Number One Alternative Title to This Blog Post is:

1) or ...How Much for the Bearded Clam?

(Because Hubby thought he was at a massage parlor. )

ps- yo, sisterbestfriend...you owe me for the rock and stick for the habitat. LOL
-------------------
Editor's Post Post Script: A friend with a bearded dragon that is 3 years old sent me a picture of her son with this 'thing'. It's head is the size of a clementine orange. Crap. This morning, I gave Rocky a little salad of arugula and shredded carrot. He took a few bites and pissed all over his driftwood. Double Crapper. Also , there are 5 dead fucking crickets in the tank. What do I do with the dead ones? Bloody Craptastic.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

The One In Which " #@&$! Off" Was Not An Appropriate Response

So I volunteered in my Kindergartener's class today. I love the little cherubs. Really I do. So full of wonder and hungry to learn. Like they are just amazed that the 'i' sound can either say 'eye' or 'ih' . Who woulda thunk it? Volunteering in kindergarten tap's my inner Martha Stewart because cutting laminated paper squares is about as crafty as I get...or can handle. And, yes- I use big scissors.

So we split up into centers and I am in charge of the Ten Table. On this table we have toothpicks and the kids have to count 10 toothpicks and make little designs with them. This challenge is also well within my purview...I can do 10 (okay, so it was hard to make little pictures with the sticks without breaking them in half, but I did my best. )

The kids see things differently ...more purely - so when one of the little 'Rainmen' dumped 246 sticks on the table ("82,82,82, 246...there are four left in the box") and made a campfire, I applauded his creative mind.

One little girl, who was staring intently at me - came up with this question: "Why come you face be's all like that? " She asked , taking her hand and sweeping it across her brow in an arch. I was a bit confused, and then I realized that this chick was dissin' my face. Crap - you'd think I was all totally-Mother-Theresa-type-unbotoxed-old lady wrinkly!


*Not me...not yet.

I said those were my eyebrow smiles. Then we all practiced raising our eyebrows up and down. (which I realized that most children can't do purposefully...) And I can even raise one up and down, and wiggle my ears, and roll my tongue and all kinds of other stupid people tricks. The children quickly stopped making stick pictures and started to count the lines on my forhead and around my eyes. Can't wait until they get home and tell their parents what they learned at school. Wear sunscreen kids - or you'll end up like this broad.

So my little one, who has heard me say this many times , says "Mommy, you are supposed to only make a design with 10 toothpicks. You're always wearing your 11!" ( this is what I refer to as the permanant lines between my eyebrows...my squint lines. a la this -> ^ ll ^ )

I had to laugh and just hugged her.**







**...because telling her to 'Fuck Off' was not the appropriate response.


Tuesday, September 1, 2009

The One Where It's All Good**

The Starts: The little one is kind of nervous about going to school. The big one decides a spa day is called for. Mommy's all "what about me?" No, seriously - what about me? They played spa for hours. And I am so cool with that. So long as the craptastic kiddie nuclear waste make-up actually washes off...can't have my cuties going to school looking like totstitutes or anything (much to the chagrin of retailers everywhere who have flooded their young minds with such images in the back- to- school catalogs and who would like us to believe that just because it's all tartan -plaid, a strapless tube top is appropriate for a 9 year old)


First day of school was last Thursday. A whole week ago - and I have been busy. Not in the 'oh poor me' way of being busy. I thrive on routine and schedules. Not much of a spontaneous person as you know, so for me - this busy has been a good busy.

This kind of busy, though, has kept me away from my bloggy-goodness. Lo siento para eso. I have lots of tiny pieces of paper with all kinds of blog-worthy moments scawled on them. I just haven't had the time or motivation to string it all together into a coherent post. So you get this one. HA!


Oh sure, the starts are exciting...the start of a new school year for the 5th grader. The start of Kindergarten for the little one! The start of the age of Swirl Girl in her first term as PTA President...(shoot me now). I've been swallowed up into the vortex and have two more years before I am spit out of the Black Hole of volunteerism.

Our eldest unmarried daughter begged for an email address. So I set her up with one with major parental monitoring. I don't want her corresponding with any Nigerian princes or anything. She has a running commentary with her Grandpa and Grandma and her Uncle Steven affectionately know round these parts as Uncle Esteban. Here's a sample of the mind of a 9 and 361/365ths year old (and for those of you slow on the whole math thingy - she'll be 10 next week)


********
Uncle Esteban-
My first day of school was hot,and hard. I was wearing jeans and boots! Also, We
had a ton of homework, AND we had to write a 2 page essay! Ho do you like that
for the 5th grade worklaod?

Rachel is loving kindergarten.She says it's off the hook!

Oh, so the other day mom says "I wanna take a nap." And I'm like, "yeah, you
haven't taken naps all summer," and dad is like, "I think it's a season thing
you know what I mean? She takes naps in the winter." So I say "Yeah, so in the
winter, Mommy hibernates!" And we all start craking up!
From big bear to another,
Emily.
*********



But what's a good start without a fit or two...

The Fits :

It's 102 degrees in the shade the past week. As you have read from her email to Uncle , the big one wanted to wear her skinny jeans , layered tees and her Sketcher suede boots to school. I tell her she's nuts. She had a fit. Wears the outfit anyway (and who could blame her since we now know that skinny jeans really do look good on tweener girls with bubble butts and meat on their bones) She tells her Uncle via that email and deprives me of a worthy "I told you so" moment. I had a fit.

The little one wears leggings and tunic. I gently tell her she'd be more comfortable in shorts and a tee. I woulda told her she was nuts too but in my best 'kindergarten mommy' voice because I will until she's a little older to really start dissin' her choices. She's still in that mockingbird stage. You know what that is. Like the time (okay, just last month) when the older one repeated my own brand of self-depricating humor and told some other virtual strangers " I used to look like my dad, until I got a horsey-face like my mom". She has heard me refer to my oval facial frame as my Mr.Ed mug and I explained it as such. Or the time waaay back when Emily was in Kindergarten and it was circle time and they were asking if any of the kids had nicknames they would prefer to be called. Emily raises her hand and says loudly " My mom calls me a pain in the ass!" Oh yeah - one of my prouder moments. So I learn from experience to temper my words with the little one. Okay - not all the time, but first day of school? Uh, yeah. Sing with me now "Mock -yeah. Ing-yeah. Bird-yeah. Yeah-yeah"

So they both go to school on the 102 degrees in the shade day looking mighty fine , I must say. And peel their togs off in the car on the way home. We go for ice cream and it's all good.


It's All Good. It's All Good. My new mantra. Cuz 'leave me the fuck alone' just doesn't work.***


(if i say it over and over again, will I start believing it??)

**alternate title #1 "The One With Fits and Starts"

***alternate title #2