We have a Shelf Elf.
His name is Norf Dorf.
He's about 4" tall, stocky, and has bright lime green hair that sticks straight up - bursting out of the top of his top hat. He looks suspiciously like one of those "so-ugly-they're-cute" troll dolls that were popular back in the 80's/90's.
ok, he actually IS one of those troll dolls that was popular back in the 80's/90's.
Norf Dorf hides somewhere different in our house every day and observes the manners he sees being practiced. Then every night, after the Grommets go to sleep, he magically whisks himself away to the North Pole to report directly to Santa the manners of the day. Once his report is complete, he returns to our home and hides again to repeat the ceremony.
He usually shows up right around the time we set our Christmas Tree up, and on Christmas Eve, he hides within the Christmas Tree itself, excited to watch my Angels tear through their diligently-earned Christmas Bounty.
He has some pretty amazing hiding places: On the topmost shower soap dish, suspended from the light fixture in the hallway, peeking from behind potted house plants, nestled in the basket containing our toothbrushes and toothpaste (holding a toothbrush of his own, of course), balancing on the top of door or window casings, replacing the baby Jesus in the manger of our porcelain Nativity, etc. Sometimes he has bows in his hair, sometimes he removes his jacket or his shoes, sometimes he has lipstick on, and other times his clothes will be on backwards... One morning he was bearing letters to the children, and often, when we listen with our hearts, we can here him singing and talking to us.
As it's important that his hiding place is novel, convincing, and n'er repeated - especially since he has to be kept out of reach of the kids (if he gets touched by people, he goes back to the North Pole and won't come back to our house till next year) - I have multiple opportunities in this cozy cottage of mine for creativity when deciding how/where to hide him each night. Sometimes it's just a pain in my butt and I want to just get the heck into bed.
Well, the other night, Norf Dorf decided to hang suspended, upside down, from the pull cord of one of our ceiling fans. The fob at the end of the pull cord is a beautiful 2" long, faceted, clear crystal. I dutifully twisted and tugged and wrapped the cord around one of his legs and wedged him "just right" with the cord and the fob to give the amazing illusion of magical, daring, watchful inversion. My efforts paid off and he looked great. I went to bed excited for the girls to discover him in the morning.
"MOM! MOM! Wake up!" they shouted, long before the sun considered peeking over the horizon, "come look!!" ... and then they laughed and laughed and laughed. "Mommmmmmmmm-- wake up! Come look at the Shelf Elf! He's hiding in the fan and he thinks the diamond is his penis!! Come look!!! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaa!"
Yeah - the way I had wedged the crystal fob had created a magnificently obvious phallus standing tall and clear between his legs.
oops.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Stewin' the Fat
Our Disneyland vacation was absolutely fantastic in its entirety! The weather was fabulous, the kids were energized the whole time, and we literally walked on to almost every single ride ... NO LINES! Mermaid got to romp in her homeland - aka: The Ocean, and Fairy Princess got to fly up and down, up and down over and over again in The Tower of Terror while wearing her Minnie Mouse costume. The Brothers (tHM's two sons from his first marriage) were WAY AWESOME big brothers throughout the entire trip, and The Holy Man only drove me a little bit crazy with his kooky ramblings - well, a little bit crazier than I already am ...
I was officially diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder the other day. This final result of the psych evaluation I had a few weeks ago was mailed to me in a form letter. I was not surprised, but also totally shocked! So, do I think it's accurate? Of course not! I know I'm pretty much the awesomest person in the world, and that That Doc would clearly realize as much if he actually knew me! (Spoken, tongue in cheek, like a true Narcissist!) ANYWAY, I'm a bit disturbed (pun intended) by it, but have discovered that it's definitely "overcomeable": As long as a Narcissist is actually *willing* to be counseled, she tends to un-learn her negative personality traits and a behaviors quite quickly and well. Most Narcissists, however, are utterly unwilling to even consider that there's anything wrong with them, so they never make it into "see someone" in the first place. Guess I'm already a step ahead of the crowd! (as usual) ...yes, another narcissistic comment.
Maybe I'll discuss further findings and my experiences with counseling as they occur over the next while. Maybe I won't though, because I'm actually extremely uncomfortable publicizing anything that could show me as being less than FREAKIN AMAZING.... ooh, a teaser to keep you on the hook ... ooooooh!
SO -- some random lady in my neighborhood heard I was poor, and bless her heart, she delivered me a 20 lb turkey. Uncooked. Pretty awesome, huh!
Today I roasted that bastard, carved it up, made some turkey avocado sandwiches, froze the rest of the meat, then stewed the skin, bones and fat to make pure homemade Turkey Stock. I have never done any such thing before in my life.
Pretty easy, though, aside from the fact that the process took me roughly 12 hours! Benefit: The heat generated from the roasting and subsequent simmering kept my house at a comfy 71 degrees all day without the use of my furnace (YAY - I'm ALL ABOUT minimizing my utility bills!!!). Disadvantage: To roast and simmer all day probably used more Natural Gas than if I had just run the heater. Hm.
Well, at least I have 25 cups of exquisite turkey broth chillin in the freezer, a giant crock pot of -totally from scratch - Turkey Noodle Soup in the fridge ready to be tomorrow's delicious wintertime dinner, and about 10 lbs of frozen, fully cooked turkey ready for whatever culinary delights I may conceive of in the future.
That, and I got motivated to make this quick blog post!
The Bird's the Word,
~dRM
I was officially diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder the other day. This final result of the psych evaluation I had a few weeks ago was mailed to me in a form letter. I was not surprised, but also totally shocked! So, do I think it's accurate? Of course not! I know I'm pretty much the awesomest person in the world, and that That Doc would clearly realize as much if he actually knew me! (Spoken, tongue in cheek, like a true Narcissist!) ANYWAY, I'm a bit disturbed (pun intended) by it, but have discovered that it's definitely "overcomeable": As long as a Narcissist is actually *willing* to be counseled, she tends to un-learn her negative personality traits and a behaviors quite quickly and well. Most Narcissists, however, are utterly unwilling to even consider that there's anything wrong with them, so they never make it into "see someone" in the first place. Guess I'm already a step ahead of the crowd! (as usual) ...yes, another narcissistic comment.
Maybe I'll discuss further findings and my experiences with counseling as they occur over the next while. Maybe I won't though, because I'm actually extremely uncomfortable publicizing anything that could show me as being less than FREAKIN AMAZING.... ooh, a teaser to keep you on the hook ... ooooooh!
SO -- some random lady in my neighborhood heard I was poor, and bless her heart, she delivered me a 20 lb turkey. Uncooked. Pretty awesome, huh!
Today I roasted that bastard, carved it up, made some turkey avocado sandwiches, froze the rest of the meat, then stewed the skin, bones and fat to make pure homemade Turkey Stock. I have never done any such thing before in my life.
Pretty easy, though, aside from the fact that the process took me roughly 12 hours! Benefit: The heat generated from the roasting and subsequent simmering kept my house at a comfy 71 degrees all day without the use of my furnace (YAY - I'm ALL ABOUT minimizing my utility bills!!!). Disadvantage: To roast and simmer all day probably used more Natural Gas than if I had just run the heater. Hm.
Well, at least I have 25 cups of exquisite turkey broth chillin in the freezer, a giant crock pot of -totally from scratch - Turkey Noodle Soup in the fridge ready to be tomorrow's delicious wintertime dinner, and about 10 lbs of frozen, fully cooked turkey ready for whatever culinary delights I may conceive of in the future.
That, and I got motivated to make this quick blog post!
The Bird's the Word,
~dRM
Saturday, November 27, 2010
...because I'm a REAL princess
"Hello Gramma, this is Mermaid," said my darlin little grommie on the telephone this morning.
"I am on baycaychon and I am going to the beach and to Dilseneyland."
"My Show and Tell (hotel) has beds and a hot tub and an elevator. I don't have to make my bed because we have a servant who will come do it."
"I love you. Bye"
...and that's how we roll 'round here!
"I am on baycaychon and I am going to the beach and to Dilseneyland."
"My Show and Tell (hotel) has beds and a hot tub and an elevator. I don't have to make my bed because we have a servant who will come do it."
"I love you. Bye"
...and that's how we roll 'round here!
Friday, November 26, 2010
We're Goin' to DISNEYLAND !
The Holy Man saved up all of his change over this last year and has used it to take us to Disneyland!
Lady L and Dream Boy remained at home with their super awesome Aunties, while Mermaid, Fairy Princess and I have joined tHM and his two boys from a previous marriage on a delightful week-long vaycay in Sunny California!
We arrived today after a lonnnnnnnnnnnnng drive. Having come from a 15 degree Thanksgiving Day, we've found the 70 degree weather absolutely sublime. We swam. Outside.
YES!
Our hotel is fantastic! We're at a Radisson. We have a microwave, fridge, coffee maker, BATHTUB, dining room -complete with table- and "sleep number" beds. A heated pool, glass-walled elevators, 2 flat screen tvs, plantation shutters on the french doors. Lots and lots of room for the 6 of us and all of our stuff ! This is a far cry from the ultra-econo accommodations *I* usually secure for our trips!
Tomorrow we hit the beach, then Sunday, Monday and Tuesday will be spent at the Happiest Place on Earth.
Although I find Mickey Mouse to be one of the most annoying characters in existence (second only to The Holy Man), and I'm not one for the plethora of hype and retail I expect to find just inches inside of Disneyland's gates, I'm tremendously excited for my girls to visit the princesses and ride the rides to their hearts' content!
Woo Hoo!
Lady L and Dream Boy remained at home with their super awesome Aunties, while Mermaid, Fairy Princess and I have joined tHM and his two boys from a previous marriage on a delightful week-long vaycay in Sunny California!
We arrived today after a lonnnnnnnnnnnnng drive. Having come from a 15 degree Thanksgiving Day, we've found the 70 degree weather absolutely sublime. We swam. Outside.
YES!
Our hotel is fantastic! We're at a Radisson. We have a microwave, fridge, coffee maker, BATHTUB, dining room -complete with table- and "sleep number" beds. A heated pool, glass-walled elevators, 2 flat screen tvs, plantation shutters on the french doors. Lots and lots of room for the 6 of us and all of our stuff ! This is a far cry from the ultra-econo accommodations *I* usually secure for our trips!
Tomorrow we hit the beach, then Sunday, Monday and Tuesday will be spent at the Happiest Place on Earth.
Although I find Mickey Mouse to be one of the most annoying characters in existence (second only to The Holy Man), and I'm not one for the plethora of hype and retail I expect to find just inches inside of Disneyland's gates, I'm tremendously excited for my girls to visit the princesses and ride the rides to their hearts' content!
Woo Hoo!
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Holy Wars
Woke up to fighting.
Every morning at the crack of dawn, my Grommies sneak quietly into my bedroom, slide into bed with me, then start playing. The jump, they cavort, they "steamroll" over me -- all while giggling and chattering "Mama wake up," "Can I open your blinds?" "Mama, do I ROCK?" (Fairy Princess), "Do I have school today?" (Mermaid), "Mama! Get out of bed!", etc etc.
This morning, however, although there was a lot of noise, I experienced a surprising lack of physical assault on my person. Instead, all of the kids were on the edge of my bed yelling at each other. Groggily and somewhat reluctantly, I slid open my eyes and attuned my ears to ascertain just what was going on before I jumped in to fix/explain/discipline/whatever.
"NO LEPRECHAUN - it's NOT DADDY!" growled my Fairy Princess
"Yes, it's Daddy!" retorted Lady Leprechaun in a fierce 2 year old scolding, "See Dream Boy, it's Daddy," she furthered, "Say Hello to Daddy -- 'Hello Daddy!' "
"LEEEEPRECHAUNNNNNN," cursed The Mermaid with full physical and emotional chagrin, "That is NOT Daddy!"
"Liar, Liar pants on fire," cursed Lady L and she spit her tongue out at her sisters
. . . then there was a bit of poking, pinching, licking (because biting is strictly taboo 'round here), growling and shrieking while they attempted to determine, physically, who was "right".
Amused, I just lay very still and observed through half closed, sleepy eyes.
Finally, as the eldest and wisest of the children, The Mermaid came up with her leakproof argument:
"Leprechaun," she began with a genuine attempt to curb her frustration, "That is NOT Daddy. It is Jesus. Jesus who lives in Heaven, in the Sky and in our Hearts and in Everyone's Hearts. It's not Daddy. Daddy lives with Gramma."
Case closed.
Yes, my kids' Daddy (The Holy Man) and Jesus Christ share more than just an ambition to wander the Earth teaching Love. They look uncannily alike.
As it was an innocent mistake, I'm pretty sure that both Jesus and tHM will forgive Lady Leprechaun.
Phew.
Every morning at the crack of dawn, my Grommies sneak quietly into my bedroom, slide into bed with me, then start playing. The jump, they cavort, they "steamroll" over me -- all while giggling and chattering "Mama wake up," "Can I open your blinds?" "Mama, do I ROCK?" (Fairy Princess), "Do I have school today?" (Mermaid), "Mama! Get out of bed!", etc etc.
This morning, however, although there was a lot of noise, I experienced a surprising lack of physical assault on my person. Instead, all of the kids were on the edge of my bed yelling at each other. Groggily and somewhat reluctantly, I slid open my eyes and attuned my ears to ascertain just what was going on before I jumped in to fix/explain/discipline/whatever.
"NO LEPRECHAUN - it's NOT DADDY!" growled my Fairy Princess
"Yes, it's Daddy!" retorted Lady Leprechaun in a fierce 2 year old scolding, "See Dream Boy, it's Daddy," she furthered, "Say Hello to Daddy -- 'Hello Daddy!' "
"LEEEEPRECHAUNNNNNN," cursed The Mermaid with full physical and emotional chagrin, "That is NOT Daddy!"
"Liar, Liar pants on fire," cursed Lady L and she spit her tongue out at her sisters
. . . then there was a bit of poking, pinching, licking (because biting is strictly taboo 'round here), growling and shrieking while they attempted to determine, physically, who was "right".
Amused, I just lay very still and observed through half closed, sleepy eyes.
Finally, as the eldest and wisest of the children, The Mermaid came up with her leakproof argument:
"Leprechaun," she began with a genuine attempt to curb her frustration, "That is NOT Daddy. It is Jesus. Jesus who lives in Heaven, in the Sky and in our Hearts and in Everyone's Hearts. It's not Daddy. Daddy lives with Gramma."
Case closed.
Yes, my kids' Daddy (The Holy Man) and Jesus Christ share more than just an ambition to wander the Earth teaching Love. They look uncannily alike.
As it was an innocent mistake, I'm pretty sure that both Jesus and tHM will forgive Lady Leprechaun.
Phew.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Eat Your dRM Food!
Sparkly, my sister, disagrees with me. She feels like the kitchen should be a sort of "open buffet" for children, and that no lessons of any sort should ever be taught using / about food -- that Grommets should be able to choose whatever they eat whenever they want it. Ok, cool -- but, unlike Sparkly, I'm not willing to make 5 separate breakfasts, 5 separate lunches and 5 separate dinners to accommodate my kids' daily fluctuating preferences. Nor am I willing to let them subsist on a diet of chicken nuggets, top Ramen noodles, cupcakes and bagels (unfortunate favorite choices of so many kids).
So I've got this thing with kids saying "I don't like it" the second I place a plate of food in front of them. Yes, people - even children - are allowed to have preferences with food, but few things irk me more than when I lay out a meal and someone says "ewwwww I don't like mushrooms/tomatoes/zucchini/etc" and consequently refuses to eat ANYTHING on the table. Imagine we were starving and ALL we had left were garbanzo beans and radishes . . . I think it's important for children to develop a WIDE palate of "acceptable/delicious" foods. Plus, it's so incredibly much more holistically nutritious!
It goes like this for me: Fruits and veggies are the most preferred fuel for the Human Body, and for the most part, they're all delicious. Granted, some may take a few times to get used to (okra), or taste best when cooked into a dish of some sort (um, eggplant), but none of them are truly gross. (At least in the general realm of fruits and vegetables ... there may be some obscure plant-born item out there that is totally disgusting, but it's not something that makes it into my kitchen). So -- GIVE 'EM A TRY! I'm a damn good cook - don't you DARE eschew my amazing, nutrition-packed dinner before you even taste one bite!
ANYWAY - Xrad's kids will eat anything. They have the most weird, eclectic, random diet I have ever seen. Basically, if it's edible, they're good to eat it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or snacks ... whatever and whenever. So, imagine my surprise when Oddie blared out one day that she wouldn't eat my legendary beef stew because it had chunks of zucchini in it -- and "she hates zucchini".
I was floored, and, well, since that's a trigger for me, I was also pretty bugged.
Then I had a brilliant idea: I took Oddie into the kitchen and invited her to eat a teaspoon of baking soda. She balked. I said, "Really, try it! It tastes weird, but it won't hurt you". Since I'm a pretty awesome Auntie, Oddie went ahead and ate the spoonful of baking soda. Of course her lips puckered a bit and her jaw worked for a minute, but I quickly gave her a big glass of water to chase it with.
"How'd ya like that?" I asked.
"Pretty yucky," answered Oddie.
"Oh, really?" I asked, "But I thought you loved cookies, cakes, bread, brownies and ALL of that stuff"
"Uh, yeah," she replied with that "duh" tone and an eye roll
"Oh - well this stuff is in all of those. You never even tasted it there, did you? Now go eat my delicious Beef Stew."
...and she did.
...and she loved every bite.
So there!
So I've got this thing with kids saying "I don't like it" the second I place a plate of food in front of them. Yes, people - even children - are allowed to have preferences with food, but few things irk me more than when I lay out a meal and someone says "ewwwww I don't like mushrooms/tomatoes/zucchini/etc" and consequently refuses to eat ANYTHING on the table. Imagine we were starving and ALL we had left were garbanzo beans and radishes . . . I think it's important for children to develop a WIDE palate of "acceptable/delicious" foods. Plus, it's so incredibly much more holistically nutritious!
It goes like this for me: Fruits and veggies are the most preferred fuel for the Human Body, and for the most part, they're all delicious. Granted, some may take a few times to get used to (okra), or taste best when cooked into a dish of some sort (um, eggplant), but none of them are truly gross. (At least in the general realm of fruits and vegetables ... there may be some obscure plant-born item out there that is totally disgusting, but it's not something that makes it into my kitchen). So -- GIVE 'EM A TRY! I'm a damn good cook - don't you DARE eschew my amazing, nutrition-packed dinner before you even taste one bite!
ANYWAY - Xrad's kids will eat anything. They have the most weird, eclectic, random diet I have ever seen. Basically, if it's edible, they're good to eat it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or snacks ... whatever and whenever. So, imagine my surprise when Oddie blared out one day that she wouldn't eat my legendary beef stew because it had chunks of zucchini in it -- and "she hates zucchini".
I was floored, and, well, since that's a trigger for me, I was also pretty bugged.
Then I had a brilliant idea: I took Oddie into the kitchen and invited her to eat a teaspoon of baking soda. She balked. I said, "Really, try it! It tastes weird, but it won't hurt you". Since I'm a pretty awesome Auntie, Oddie went ahead and ate the spoonful of baking soda. Of course her lips puckered a bit and her jaw worked for a minute, but I quickly gave her a big glass of water to chase it with.
"How'd ya like that?" I asked.
"Pretty yucky," answered Oddie.
"Oh, really?" I asked, "But I thought you loved cookies, cakes, bread, brownies and ALL of that stuff"
"Uh, yeah," she replied with that "duh" tone and an eye roll
"Oh - well this stuff is in all of those. You never even tasted it there, did you? Now go eat my delicious Beef Stew."
...and she did.
...and she loved every bite.
So there!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Behind the Scenes
Ya know one of the best parts about being a Mama?
The privilege of seeing all of the secret little personal things my kids do. You know, those darling little behaviors, habits etc that they're too shy to do in front of other people --
My Mermaid was given an old cell phone the other day by a friend of mine. The SIM card was left intact and the phone is loaded up with music. Mermaid has carried it around non stop for 2 days playing music... and dancing. She's done the wave, the worm, the robot, a lot of "booty shaking", some slow dancing with her Fairy Princess sister, and all sorts of other impromptu performances. All with deep feeling, intense facial expressions, and full-body participation. In fact, they're doing a 5 year old modification of a dramatic Tango right now. Way cool! Of course, no one but Mama can see this stuff ... when I ask them to perform for others, they either act very shy and refuse, or they get really silly and just show off.
Lady Leprechaun has decided which things are her "favorite thing". I'll give her an apple and she'll look up at me, set the apple down and vehemently declare with a ferocious grin "This is my FAVORITE APPLE!" - while giving me a double-thumbs up and pumping her arms out dramatically in cadence to the words. Then I'll give her a glass of water and she'll announce, "Mom, this is my FAVORITE WATER!" and pump that two thumbs up at me again. She informs me about her favorite foods, clothes, hair styles, toothpaste, songs, movies, blankies . . . well, everything. I have no idea where she learned it, but it's about the cutest thing I've ever seen - and when I "bait" her to do it in front of others, she gets all coy and reserved and says nothing. Her thumbs automatically stick up, though, and I get a real kick out of watching her notice that and try to hide them. haha!
Lucky me!
Oh, on a side note - I facilitated progression to Nirvana for two more mice yesterday! YES !
The privilege of seeing all of the secret little personal things my kids do. You know, those darling little behaviors, habits etc that they're too shy to do in front of other people --
My Mermaid was given an old cell phone the other day by a friend of mine. The SIM card was left intact and the phone is loaded up with music. Mermaid has carried it around non stop for 2 days playing music... and dancing. She's done the wave, the worm, the robot, a lot of "booty shaking", some slow dancing with her Fairy Princess sister, and all sorts of other impromptu performances. All with deep feeling, intense facial expressions, and full-body participation. In fact, they're doing a 5 year old modification of a dramatic Tango right now. Way cool! Of course, no one but Mama can see this stuff ... when I ask them to perform for others, they either act very shy and refuse, or they get really silly and just show off.
Lady Leprechaun has decided which things are her "favorite thing". I'll give her an apple and she'll look up at me, set the apple down and vehemently declare with a ferocious grin "This is my FAVORITE APPLE!" - while giving me a double-thumbs up and pumping her arms out dramatically in cadence to the words. Then I'll give her a glass of water and she'll announce, "Mom, this is my FAVORITE WATER!" and pump that two thumbs up at me again. She informs me about her favorite foods, clothes, hair styles, toothpaste, songs, movies, blankies . . . well, everything. I have no idea where she learned it, but it's about the cutest thing I've ever seen - and when I "bait" her to do it in front of others, she gets all coy and reserved and says nothing. Her thumbs automatically stick up, though, and I get a real kick out of watching her notice that and try to hide them. haha!
Lucky me!
Oh, on a side note - I facilitated progression to Nirvana for two more mice yesterday! YES !
Friday, November 12, 2010
Whasbeenup
I've been the subject of recent admonitions in regards to my lack of consistent posts. (Thanks JRock - you 'da Man).
Let me 'splain a little 'bout what I's been doing: I like living. I like doing, going, laughing, loving and breathing. I really struggle with doing things that I don't like (ha ha - see Pu's recent post where she revealed my self-diagnosis of "Clinically Unemployable") which, as a general rule, includes anything ROUTINE. Even less do I enjoy sitting at a computer. So ... rather than blogging some stupid comment on whether or not I filled my gas tank 1/2 way full or 3/4 full, I've been preparing my little sanctuary (aka my home) for winter.
The Great Annual Mouse Event is underway 'round these parts. I live in a very nice little cottage-y house on 1/3 acre of land. I have a spanning yard and a 600 sq ft garden. The house is old but freshly remodeled - yet it still contains lots of random little holes. Holes that cute little Mice have mapped out on those ancient stone tablets they have - you know, the ones that God gave them on the mountain when the bush burned down ... the ones that instruct the entire species of where to congregate when the weather turns cold.
Last year, I only had to kill *eight* of them (in my 1000 sq ft house) to send the clear message that Auschwitz don't have nuttin on me. I actually spent most of last fall and winter in terrible angst because I felt like a bad person if I actually had to KILL something to be rid of it. I tried catch-and-release traps, peppermint (leaves scattered, strategically placed live plants, and essential oil diffused in 72 hour shifts), incense-bombing (that's where I burn 60-80 sticks of incense all at once in a glorious Hindu-Inspired Haze in hopes of choking those miceys out ... my personal "non chemical" innovation as a substitute for a toxic bug or mouse bomb), and relentless, furious cleaning (in the drawers, in the closets, sterilizing the cupboards, purging the vents, etc etc). I created several variations of ingenious "swim traps" - where I filled a bucket with a bit of water and created a "diving board fulcrum" of sorts with delicious peanut butter and cheerios on the end overhanging the water so I could humanely catch them as they fell in for a little swim after dashing out onto the "plank" and tipping into the wild blue yonder.
None of it worked. Well, I did catch 2 mice in one of the catch and release traps, but I set them free 0.9 miles from my home, and I think they followed their bread crumb trail back to one of the aforementioned holes. Experts do say, you know, to release them *at least* 1 mile from your home ....
ANYWAY - after months of discovering MORE little piles of mouse poo, and being thoroughly disgusted, I finally just put out the snap traps and killed the suckers off.
THIS year, I started off with glue traps - thinking that if I checked them regularly, when a poor little mousey got stuck on one, I could release it a full mile away from my home before it experienced too much trauma. (Ya know - that whole Karma thing ...) Well, they didn't work. You see, I keep my house cool . . . cool enough that the glue traps were too cold to be sticky enough to actually trap the mice. After 2 days, I had several traps where the little bait pile of tasty cheerios had been replaced by tiny footprints, random tufts of fur and little piles of black-rice poo.
So -- out came the poison pellets for the outside part of my house, and the snap traps for the inside. I've blessed 6 already with an expedited trip to Heaven, and have sighted 3 or 4 more. Onward I go.
In other news, I am now officially a lumberjack. With the assistance of Xrad's husband (aka The Cowboy) and Son (aka Missionary Man), I have harvested, chopped and split the equivalent of 3 full trailers of wood for my wintertime fireplace. Wintertime gas bills run upwards of $300/month in this cozy little cottage - and that's just WAY TOO HARD to manage on my $560/month income. This year, I'm aiming to keep 'em under $30. Big ambition, I know, but I've got the wood ready, have re-routed my dryer to vent inside, have purchased thick fuzzy jammas for the Grommets, and have installed "I'm sleeping in a fluff of pure Nirvana" duvets on all of the beds.
Oh, yes. I have enrolled for school. I'll begin in January with a full-time course load to finally complete a degree. I began college immediately after graduating High School. (er - 20 years ago ...) I have attended full time for many many semesters since, but haven't ever pieced it all together into a nice piece of paper I can hang on my wall. This time will be different. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I've decided to wrap my myriad credits (like all 100 of them) into a BS in Philosophy.
"I went to see the doctor of Philosophy. With his poster of Rasputin and his beard down to his knees. He never did marry, or see a big great movie. He graded my performance, he said he could see through me. I spent 4 years prostrate to the higher mind - got my paper and I was free......." (duh, Indigo Girls).
...and I have a drawing class in my upcoming semester. I have a hard time drawing a circle, and well, quite frankly, I don't care. It's the only class I'm wary of . . . that leads me to believe that it may hide/hold/reveal some great truth to me about myself. Maybe I just hate drawing. Guess we'll see . . . . (oh, lookie ! I'm a philosopher already !!!)
Tomorrow, I get to go spend 4 hours with a Psychiatrist. I'm pretty excited! I've never known one / seen one / talked to one before. One of the grants I'm applying for requires that I have a mental or emotional disability to qualify, so I'ma meeting this guy to see if he thinks I do! Crazy, huh! (no pun intended). Yeah, I'm sure there's a strong vein of ADD coursing through my blood, and I spent several years experiencing panic attacks whenever I thought about driving a car (of course, I didn't even consider actually driving one during that time), and I think I'm pretty solidly "clinically unemployable" (not because I suck - because I'm smarter, faster and more creative than anyone I've ever worked for, and either work myself out of a job quickly by organizing/systemizing/structuring what I do such that any $5.00/hr monkey can do it, or I just have to quit from sheer boredom). Oh, and Xrad's psychology professor suggested to me that I have a personality disorder with Narcissistic tendencies. -yeah, whatever. I do not think I am better than everyone.
I know it.
Ouch!
Got some good stuff coming: Grade School Fundraisers, "The Corporation", Committees, Songs I've Made Up for 'da Grommies, Living a Grain Free life - Can it be done by dRM and clan?, etc... Stay posted. My musings may be far-between, but they're just as often as I like em!
Let me 'splain a little 'bout what I's been doing: I like living. I like doing, going, laughing, loving and breathing. I really struggle with doing things that I don't like (ha ha - see Pu's recent post where she revealed my self-diagnosis of "Clinically Unemployable") which, as a general rule, includes anything ROUTINE. Even less do I enjoy sitting at a computer. So ... rather than blogging some stupid comment on whether or not I filled my gas tank 1/2 way full or 3/4 full, I've been preparing my little sanctuary (aka my home) for winter.
The Great Annual Mouse Event is underway 'round these parts. I live in a very nice little cottage-y house on 1/3 acre of land. I have a spanning yard and a 600 sq ft garden. The house is old but freshly remodeled - yet it still contains lots of random little holes. Holes that cute little Mice have mapped out on those ancient stone tablets they have - you know, the ones that God gave them on the mountain when the bush burned down ... the ones that instruct the entire species of where to congregate when the weather turns cold.
Last year, I only had to kill *eight* of them (in my 1000 sq ft house) to send the clear message that Auschwitz don't have nuttin on me. I actually spent most of last fall and winter in terrible angst because I felt like a bad person if I actually had to KILL something to be rid of it. I tried catch-and-release traps, peppermint (leaves scattered, strategically placed live plants, and essential oil diffused in 72 hour shifts), incense-bombing (that's where I burn 60-80 sticks of incense all at once in a glorious Hindu-Inspired Haze in hopes of choking those miceys out ... my personal "non chemical" innovation as a substitute for a toxic bug or mouse bomb), and relentless, furious cleaning (in the drawers, in the closets, sterilizing the cupboards, purging the vents, etc etc). I created several variations of ingenious "swim traps" - where I filled a bucket with a bit of water and created a "diving board fulcrum" of sorts with delicious peanut butter and cheerios on the end overhanging the water so I could humanely catch them as they fell in for a little swim after dashing out onto the "plank" and tipping into the wild blue yonder.
None of it worked. Well, I did catch 2 mice in one of the catch and release traps, but I set them free 0.9 miles from my home, and I think they followed their bread crumb trail back to one of the aforementioned holes. Experts do say, you know, to release them *at least* 1 mile from your home ....
ANYWAY - after months of discovering MORE little piles of mouse poo, and being thoroughly disgusted, I finally just put out the snap traps and killed the suckers off.
THIS year, I started off with glue traps - thinking that if I checked them regularly, when a poor little mousey got stuck on one, I could release it a full mile away from my home before it experienced too much trauma. (Ya know - that whole Karma thing ...) Well, they didn't work. You see, I keep my house cool . . . cool enough that the glue traps were too cold to be sticky enough to actually trap the mice. After 2 days, I had several traps where the little bait pile of tasty cheerios had been replaced by tiny footprints, random tufts of fur and little piles of black-rice poo.
So -- out came the poison pellets for the outside part of my house, and the snap traps for the inside. I've blessed 6 already with an expedited trip to Heaven, and have sighted 3 or 4 more. Onward I go.
In other news, I am now officially a lumberjack. With the assistance of Xrad's husband (aka The Cowboy) and Son (aka Missionary Man), I have harvested, chopped and split the equivalent of 3 full trailers of wood for my wintertime fireplace. Wintertime gas bills run upwards of $300/month in this cozy little cottage - and that's just WAY TOO HARD to manage on my $560/month income. This year, I'm aiming to keep 'em under $30. Big ambition, I know, but I've got the wood ready, have re-routed my dryer to vent inside, have purchased thick fuzzy jammas for the Grommets, and have installed "I'm sleeping in a fluff of pure Nirvana" duvets on all of the beds.
Oh, yes. I have enrolled for school. I'll begin in January with a full-time course load to finally complete a degree. I began college immediately after graduating High School. (er - 20 years ago ...) I have attended full time for many many semesters since, but haven't ever pieced it all together into a nice piece of paper I can hang on my wall. This time will be different. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I've decided to wrap my myriad credits (like all 100 of them) into a BS in Philosophy.
"I went to see the doctor of Philosophy. With his poster of Rasputin and his beard down to his knees. He never did marry, or see a big great movie. He graded my performance, he said he could see through me. I spent 4 years prostrate to the higher mind - got my paper and I was free......." (duh, Indigo Girls).
...and I have a drawing class in my upcoming semester. I have a hard time drawing a circle, and well, quite frankly, I don't care. It's the only class I'm wary of . . . that leads me to believe that it may hide/hold/reveal some great truth to me about myself. Maybe I just hate drawing. Guess we'll see . . . . (oh, lookie ! I'm a philosopher already !!!)
Tomorrow, I get to go spend 4 hours with a Psychiatrist. I'm pretty excited! I've never known one / seen one / talked to one before. One of the grants I'm applying for requires that I have a mental or emotional disability to qualify, so I'ma meeting this guy to see if he thinks I do! Crazy, huh! (no pun intended). Yeah, I'm sure there's a strong vein of ADD coursing through my blood, and I spent several years experiencing panic attacks whenever I thought about driving a car (of course, I didn't even consider actually driving one during that time), and I think I'm pretty solidly "clinically unemployable" (not because I suck - because I'm smarter, faster and more creative than anyone I've ever worked for, and either work myself out of a job quickly by organizing/systemizing/structuring what I do such that any $5.00/hr monkey can do it, or I just have to quit from sheer boredom). Oh, and Xrad's psychology professor suggested to me that I have a personality disorder with Narcissistic tendencies. -yeah, whatever. I do not think I am better than everyone.
I know it.
Ouch!
Got some good stuff coming: Grade School Fundraisers, "The Corporation", Committees, Songs I've Made Up for 'da Grommies, Living a Grain Free life - Can it be done by dRM and clan?, etc... Stay posted. My musings may be far-between, but they're just as often as I like em!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
20 Things I Say to my Grommies Every Day
Yes, every single day, I say every one of these things (plus several more):
1) I love to be your Mama
2) Wanna know why I'm the luckiest Mama in the world? 'cuz I get to have you for my kid
3) Oooooh - you smell like Heaven
4) Come over here and let me kiss you - I wanna know what Angels taste like
5) How did you get so freakin' smart?
6) You are an awesome sister/friend/cousin/daughter/etc...
7) You ROCK! (This is Fairy Princess' favorite. When she wakes up every morning, she comes and snuggles next to me in my bed then starts right in with: "Mama, Good Morning, wake up! Can I open your blinds? Do I rock?)
8) No, you may not have sugar cereal. That's not real food - it's candy. If you want to eat candy for breakfast you'll have to go to someone else's house to get it. ("Mama," asks my Mermaid with genuine concern, "why do people give their kids candy for breakfast?")
9) I love you
10) Oh wow - you look super cute / beautiful / colorful / etc
11) I love the way you: did your hair / matched your clothes / colored inside the lines / cleared your dishes / played with your sister / shared / etc
12) Get in there and brush those Germ Bugs out of your teeth. Top, bottom, front, back, inside and outside. Then brush your tongue and spit!
13) Step one is to pick up the dress-ups and put them in the treasure chest . . . Step two is to pick up the musical instruments and put them into the music drawer . . . Step three is to put the books back in the bookcase . . .
14) Ohhhh honey, It's ok - I would cry too if that happened to me
15) Phew! It's a good thing your body knows how to heal itself!
16) If someone is acting mean it's because they want some extra love
17) You have a way cool Daddy and he loves you a lot.
18) Uh, uh. Stop right now. You get to use your GOOD manners
19) If you don't want to eat your food, then you can go in and take a nap. Your body is ready for some energy and the best two ways to get it right now are eating or sleeping. Which one are you going to choose? (The "standard lunchtime discussion" I have with the Fairy Princess)
20) Good night, sleep tight, don't let the waterbugs bite. (They informed me that it was WATERBUGS not bedbugs who wanted to bite them . . . "duh, mom" . . .)
And it's true, all true.
Livin' and Lovin'
~da Renegade Mama
1) I love to be your Mama
2) Wanna know why I'm the luckiest Mama in the world? 'cuz I get to have you for my kid
3) Oooooh - you smell like Heaven
4) Come over here and let me kiss you - I wanna know what Angels taste like
5) How did you get so freakin' smart?
6) You are an awesome sister/friend/cousin/daughter/etc...
7) You ROCK! (This is Fairy Princess' favorite. When she wakes up every morning, she comes and snuggles next to me in my bed then starts right in with: "Mama, Good Morning, wake up! Can I open your blinds? Do I rock?)
8) No, you may not have sugar cereal. That's not real food - it's candy. If you want to eat candy for breakfast you'll have to go to someone else's house to get it. ("Mama," asks my Mermaid with genuine concern, "why do people give their kids candy for breakfast?")
9) I love you
10) Oh wow - you look super cute / beautiful / colorful / etc
11) I love the way you: did your hair / matched your clothes / colored inside the lines / cleared your dishes / played with your sister / shared / etc
12) Get in there and brush those Germ Bugs out of your teeth. Top, bottom, front, back, inside and outside. Then brush your tongue and spit!
13) Step one is to pick up the dress-ups and put them in the treasure chest . . . Step two is to pick up the musical instruments and put them into the music drawer . . . Step three is to put the books back in the bookcase . . .
14) Ohhhh honey, It's ok - I would cry too if that happened to me
15) Phew! It's a good thing your body knows how to heal itself!
16) If someone is acting mean it's because they want some extra love
17) You have a way cool Daddy and he loves you a lot.
18) Uh, uh. Stop right now. You get to use your GOOD manners
19) If you don't want to eat your food, then you can go in and take a nap. Your body is ready for some energy and the best two ways to get it right now are eating or sleeping. Which one are you going to choose? (The "standard lunchtime discussion" I have with the Fairy Princess)
20) Good night, sleep tight, don't let the waterbugs bite. (They informed me that it was WATERBUGS not bedbugs who wanted to bite them . . . "duh, mom" . . .)
And it's true, all true.
Livin' and Lovin'
~da Renegade Mama
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Has my Secret Identity been compromised already???
Good Golly!
I don't do Facebook or any other "LOOK WORLD HERE'S MY LIFE" sorta thing. (Well, with the exception of this blog ... but I write it with a secret identity). I kinda like anonymity in regards to the World At Large.
Ok, just kidding, I REALLY like anonymity when it comes to the World At Large.
So imagine my surprise when Pu raced over here yesterday to show me "something funny".
I attended a wedding last Sunday. Apparently, one of the guests (who is also my friend) snapped a pic of me and my kids. No big deal.
Then he posted it on his Facebook page amid the other 90000 pics he took at the wedding. If he'd have asked my permission, I'd have said "no", but he didn't know any better, so - owell, can't win 'em all...
What Pu zipped over to show me, however, were the comments that were made about my photo. She thinks it's HILARIOUS.
Some lady from God Knows Where somehow thought it was fascinating to look at six billion wedding pictures of someone else's wedding, and with her eagle eyes singled out the one photo featuring me and my grommets.
"I know this lady!" she posted all excited-like, "she lives in xxxxx (city) and I recognize her kids - they attend xxxx elementary school! I see them there every morning!"
Holy God! Damn good thing she doesn't know my name! Sheesh! In this day and age, it takes a lot of concerted effort to stay "off the grid" - I'm glad I'm not in the Witness Protection Program - I'd already be at the bottom of the Hudson with cement shoes!
ANYWAY - just for the record: Not everyone in the world wants their picture on Facebook, on your personal Web Page or passed around in email.
It's just fine if YOU like it . . . I trust you'll honor that some people don't.
'nuff said. ROCK ON~
I don't do Facebook or any other "LOOK WORLD HERE'S MY LIFE" sorta thing. (Well, with the exception of this blog ... but I write it with a secret identity). I kinda like anonymity in regards to the World At Large.
Ok, just kidding, I REALLY like anonymity when it comes to the World At Large.
So imagine my surprise when Pu raced over here yesterday to show me "something funny".
I attended a wedding last Sunday. Apparently, one of the guests (who is also my friend) snapped a pic of me and my kids. No big deal.
Then he posted it on his Facebook page amid the other 90000 pics he took at the wedding. If he'd have asked my permission, I'd have said "no", but he didn't know any better, so - owell, can't win 'em all...
What Pu zipped over to show me, however, were the comments that were made about my photo. She thinks it's HILARIOUS.
Some lady from God Knows Where somehow thought it was fascinating to look at six billion wedding pictures of someone else's wedding, and with her eagle eyes singled out the one photo featuring me and my grommets.
"I know this lady!" she posted all excited-like, "she lives in xxxxx (city) and I recognize her kids - they attend xxxx elementary school! I see them there every morning!"
Holy God! Damn good thing she doesn't know my name! Sheesh! In this day and age, it takes a lot of concerted effort to stay "off the grid" - I'm glad I'm not in the Witness Protection Program - I'd already be at the bottom of the Hudson with cement shoes!
ANYWAY - just for the record: Not everyone in the world wants their picture on Facebook, on your personal Web Page or passed around in email.
It's just fine if YOU like it . . . I trust you'll honor that some people don't.
'nuff said. ROCK ON~
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Children of the Corn
I'm not sure if it was Xrad or I who was the first to refer to our children as "Children of the Corn" in a moment of chaos. I babysit her kids regularly and they are often really "creatively behaved" - frequently inspiring me to feel crazy. Mine just get psycho hyper and only sometimes inspire me to feel crazy - ESPECIALLY when they're tired.
Take for example what's happening right now:
The Mermaid and Fairy Princess have just emerged from the bath. They are chasing each other around the front room trying to "kick each other in the nuts". Um, they're both girls, remember? The Mermaid just slipped on the floor, due to her wet feet and conked her head on the hardwood floor with a resounding "KONK".
Now she's wailing as if the world were about to end while The Fairy Princess is doing the chicken dance.
1 min later: Mermaid's jumping on the couch - upside down
22 seconds later later: She's emptied a puzzle onto the floor.
Concurrently: Fairy Princess is asking me if her hair looks clean
Concurrently: Mermaid is singing that she doesn't want to go to school tomorrow
Oh, and now Fairy Princess is reciting over and over again, as if repeating a spiritual mantra, "I wanna go to bed I wanna go to bed I wanna go to bed I wanna go to bed" WHILE doing the chicken dance -- oh wait, now they're both repeating it and jumping on the couch upside down.
Now Mermaid is sitting in the middle of the floor asking Fairy Princess to guess where she is.....
And, like the Energizer Bunny, it's going on and on and on and onnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Pause here -- You know, ESPECIALLY since they're requesting it over and over again via their mantra, I'm gonna go put them in bed right now... back in a sec......
Oh, wait, their jammas aren't on yet and they're asking to play on the computer, asking for a snack (dinner was 30 mins ago), asking to watch a movie, asking to call their dad, asking to wash the dishes, asking if we can decorate for Halloween, asking if they can play at their cousins' house . . .
Um, no.
Supervising the putting-on of jammas on and THEN putting them into bed. Be back in a few . . .
...
...
Visiting for a sec while they brush their teeth. Fairy Princess just informed me that she has a movie theatre in her mouth playing a Barbie movie, and that there are also Dora Germs she's getting rid of. (When I assist them with brushing, I make silly comments about how I can see polka-dot bugs or fishy bugs, or whatever else kind of bugs in their mouths and I talk and sing to those bugs as I brush them away. Mermaid still believes that I'm actually seeing real physical Germ Bugs, and laments that I can see them and she can't. "I'm looking with my Fairy Eyes," I tell her. Fairy Princess, however, caught quite quickly and plays along with gusto.) K - back to brushing and bedtime . . .
...
...
...
...
Today was Crazy Hair Day at Mermaid's school. In honor of the fine occasion, I put Fairy Princess', Lady Leprechaun's and My hair up into fancy multi-colored 'do's as well. Perhaps it was my rainbow-striped-sparkly fauxhawk that inspired them to lick the inside of every freezer door in the supermarket while I was selecting frozen vegetables. Maybe it was Mermaid's little extra boost of confidence from having the Coolest Crazy Hair in Kindergarten that led her to do cartwheels in the baby food aisle. It could have been the fact that Lady Leprechaun only had two colors in her hair while the rest of us were veritable rainbow-heads that inspired her to bite Dream Boy because he got to ride in the seat of the shopping cart and she got stuck in the basket. Or maybe that's why she stacked up the bread to make a seat for herself there ... I wonder ...
As a general rule, my Rugrats are exceptionally well-behaved. They're smart, cute and follow instructions nicely (I abhor the word "obey"). They're courteous, helpful and friendly --- even with their own siblings. There is not a friend's house they've visited whose mother hasn't complimented me on their fantastic manners and genial personalities.
Today, however, they have absolutely earned the title "Children of the Corn."
.... and they're asleep AT LAST! (ha ha, it's not even 8:30 pm yet ... "at last" ... ha ha!!)
One last note: Xrad called her grommies "Children of the Corn" the other day. Her 8 year old daughter, Oddie, asked, "Mom, why do you always call us that?" Xrad replied, "Because I'm beginning to believe that you're Demon Spawn." Oddie only took a split second to respond:
"Mom, doesn't that make you a demon?"
Rock On SmartyPants!
Take for example what's happening right now:
The Mermaid and Fairy Princess have just emerged from the bath. They are chasing each other around the front room trying to "kick each other in the nuts". Um, they're both girls, remember? The Mermaid just slipped on the floor, due to her wet feet and conked her head on the hardwood floor with a resounding "KONK".
Now she's wailing as if the world were about to end while The Fairy Princess is doing the chicken dance.
1 min later: Mermaid's jumping on the couch - upside down
22 seconds later later: She's emptied a puzzle onto the floor.
Concurrently: Fairy Princess is asking me if her hair looks clean
Concurrently: Mermaid is singing that she doesn't want to go to school tomorrow
Oh, and now Fairy Princess is reciting over and over again, as if repeating a spiritual mantra, "I wanna go to bed I wanna go to bed I wanna go to bed I wanna go to bed" WHILE doing the chicken dance -- oh wait, now they're both repeating it and jumping on the couch upside down.
Now Mermaid is sitting in the middle of the floor asking Fairy Princess to guess where she is.....
And, like the Energizer Bunny, it's going on and on and on and onnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Pause here -- You know, ESPECIALLY since they're requesting it over and over again via their mantra, I'm gonna go put them in bed right now... back in a sec......
Oh, wait, their jammas aren't on yet and they're asking to play on the computer, asking for a snack (dinner was 30 mins ago), asking to watch a movie, asking to call their dad, asking to wash the dishes, asking if we can decorate for Halloween, asking if they can play at their cousins' house . . .
Um, no.
Supervising the putting-on of jammas on and THEN putting them into bed. Be back in a few . . .
...
...
Visiting for a sec while they brush their teeth. Fairy Princess just informed me that she has a movie theatre in her mouth playing a Barbie movie, and that there are also Dora Germs she's getting rid of. (When I assist them with brushing, I make silly comments about how I can see polka-dot bugs or fishy bugs, or whatever else kind of bugs in their mouths and I talk and sing to those bugs as I brush them away. Mermaid still believes that I'm actually seeing real physical Germ Bugs, and laments that I can see them and she can't. "I'm looking with my Fairy Eyes," I tell her. Fairy Princess, however, caught quite quickly and plays along with gusto.) K - back to brushing and bedtime . . .
...
...
...
...
Today was Crazy Hair Day at Mermaid's school. In honor of the fine occasion, I put Fairy Princess', Lady Leprechaun's and My hair up into fancy multi-colored 'do's as well. Perhaps it was my rainbow-striped-sparkly fauxhawk that inspired them to lick the inside of every freezer door in the supermarket while I was selecting frozen vegetables. Maybe it was Mermaid's little extra boost of confidence from having the Coolest Crazy Hair in Kindergarten that led her to do cartwheels in the baby food aisle. It could have been the fact that Lady Leprechaun only had two colors in her hair while the rest of us were veritable rainbow-heads that inspired her to bite Dream Boy because he got to ride in the seat of the shopping cart and she got stuck in the basket. Or maybe that's why she stacked up the bread to make a seat for herself there ... I wonder ...
As a general rule, my Rugrats are exceptionally well-behaved. They're smart, cute and follow instructions nicely (I abhor the word "obey"). They're courteous, helpful and friendly --- even with their own siblings. There is not a friend's house they've visited whose mother hasn't complimented me on their fantastic manners and genial personalities.
Today, however, they have absolutely earned the title "Children of the Corn."
.... and they're asleep AT LAST! (ha ha, it's not even 8:30 pm yet ... "at last" ... ha ha!!)
One last note: Xrad called her grommies "Children of the Corn" the other day. Her 8 year old daughter, Oddie, asked, "Mom, why do you always call us that?" Xrad replied, "Because I'm beginning to believe that you're Demon Spawn." Oddie only took a split second to respond:
"Mom, doesn't that make you a demon?"
Rock On SmartyPants!
Friday, October 8, 2010
Sixth Graders Buying Beer?
ok, so I've just gotta say -
I just learned why the gas station across the street from my house doesn't sell beer.
And even though I'm a mama who hopes her children never delve into the world of alcoholism, all I can think is "You've gotta be kidding"
First off, and for the record, I'm not a beer drinker. Quite frankly, it tastes like crap. Pu and Xrad, however, love it.
So, every Friday nite the three of us do "girls night". It's a chance for Xrad to get away from her 10,000,000 kids, for Pu to think about something other than dehydrated Africans, and for me to remember what it feels like to be a person who isn't singularly addressed as "mommmmmmmm". (did you hear the whine in that?)
We drink.
Xrad and Pu like beer and pizza. I'm much more a fan of fasting and wine.
ANYWAY . . . Xrad went to the across-the-street gas station tonight to get pizza and beer. (Their "John Gotti pizza pie is FANTASTIC). There was no beer anywhere in the gas station. No, nowhere. How about THAT folks?
Being the tenacious, intelligent, uninhibited girl that she is, Xrad asked the cashier "So, uh, where's the beer?"
Guess what. There really is no beer. At the gas station across the street.
Wanna know why?
Because it's too close to an elementary school.
Last time I checked, there weren't many 5 year olds purchasing beer.
Last time I checked, a 12 year old (you know, the age of pretty much ALL sixth graders) couldn't pull off buying beer with a fake ID.
Yeah.
It's true - I do worry about Chester D. Molester finding my kids. I guess I should feel safe now, though, since he can't buy his beer within 1 mile of their school.
Phew. I'm gonna sleep better tonight.
I just learned why the gas station across the street from my house doesn't sell beer.
And even though I'm a mama who hopes her children never delve into the world of alcoholism, all I can think is "You've gotta be kidding"
First off, and for the record, I'm not a beer drinker. Quite frankly, it tastes like crap. Pu and Xrad, however, love it.
So, every Friday nite the three of us do "girls night". It's a chance for Xrad to get away from her 10,000,000 kids, for Pu to think about something other than dehydrated Africans, and for me to remember what it feels like to be a person who isn't singularly addressed as "mommmmmmmm". (did you hear the whine in that?)
We drink.
Xrad and Pu like beer and pizza. I'm much more a fan of fasting and wine.
ANYWAY . . . Xrad went to the across-the-street gas station tonight to get pizza and beer. (Their "John Gotti pizza pie is FANTASTIC). There was no beer anywhere in the gas station. No, nowhere. How about THAT folks?
Being the tenacious, intelligent, uninhibited girl that she is, Xrad asked the cashier "So, uh, where's the beer?"
Guess what. There really is no beer. At the gas station across the street.
Wanna know why?
Because it's too close to an elementary school.
Last time I checked, there weren't many 5 year olds purchasing beer.
Last time I checked, a 12 year old (you know, the age of pretty much ALL sixth graders) couldn't pull off buying beer with a fake ID.
Yeah.
It's true - I do worry about Chester D. Molester finding my kids. I guess I should feel safe now, though, since he can't buy his beer within 1 mile of their school.
Phew. I'm gonna sleep better tonight.
Peace at Last
Ah. 8 of the 13 childrens have gone home. All that remain are my 4 and one cousin who is sleeping over. There were only 2 bloody noses, 1 scraped forehead, and a somewhat rapid succession of 6 Time Outs.
The scissors resulted in a very confetti'd front room - no lost hair, though. phew. (I think I may have lost a ream of paper in there somewhere, though).
Putting mine in the bathtub, shaking a margarita and getting ready to do The Broomstick Hustle in hopes of clearing out the confetti fallout.
By the way - Pandora Radio - Toddler Radio - ROCKS.
The scissors resulted in a very confetti'd front room - no lost hair, though. phew. (I think I may have lost a ream of paper in there somewhere, though).
Putting mine in the bathtub, shaking a margarita and getting ready to do The Broomstick Hustle in hopes of clearing out the confetti fallout.
By the way - Pandora Radio - Toddler Radio - ROCKS.
Measuring up to the Walking Stick
ok - so here's what I'm wondering:
My sister, Sparkly, has a little boy just 1 week older than Dream Boy (1 year old). He ranks in their family hierarchy at the same level as Dream Boy does in mine. (even down to being the only boy)..
Her little fella was walking at the tender age of 8 months. These days he walks up and down stairs, opens doors and runs with ease.
My Dream Boy doesn't. What he DOES do is a sorta Gorilla Bum Bump 'n Slide (very rapidly I might add), and I definitely have to keep him away from the 3 stairs that are on my property. (I need to let the bumps on his forehead heal before he attempts it yet again, lest someone think he's being beaten and calls The Authroities).
Now this isn't about comparing, because I'm solidly aware that my kids are ALREADY uncontestedly the most amazing kids on Earth, but I'm wondering this: Sparkly and her hubby are extremely athletic. They both work out for hours every day - In fact, her husband will be breaking the world record for a pretty widely-known worldwide sporting event this next weekend. (One that involves A LOT of running).
I, on the other hand, satisfy my fitness requirements by chasing kids around. I also garden, participate in the Zen art of Housekeeping (really - I totally dig washing baseboards and ceiling fans), take 3-year-old-paced walks and regularly sweep kiddie-goo off of my very large patio. I haul wood to stock up for my wintertime fireplace, and I make soap (yes, that is too fitness--I stir it with my own two hands).
Granted, that's not really a Gorilla Bum Bump 'n Slide - sliding on my bum and hands along the floor instead of walking (I'm generally standing through most of that stuff) - but it IS sort of a mutated view of fitness.
So - what I wonder is this: Is Sparkly's little guy just a walking prodigy, or did he just see SO MUCH running and walking that he decided to try it as soon as he was able? Hm. Maybe it's just that Dream Boy is very fat, or maybe he's just really smart - after all, don't we ALL wish we could just relax and be carried a bit more...?
I wonder. What do you think?
My sister, Sparkly, has a little boy just 1 week older than Dream Boy (1 year old). He ranks in their family hierarchy at the same level as Dream Boy does in mine. (even down to being the only boy)..
Her little fella was walking at the tender age of 8 months. These days he walks up and down stairs, opens doors and runs with ease.
My Dream Boy doesn't. What he DOES do is a sorta Gorilla Bum Bump 'n Slide (very rapidly I might add), and I definitely have to keep him away from the 3 stairs that are on my property. (I need to let the bumps on his forehead heal before he attempts it yet again, lest someone think he's being beaten and calls The Authroities).
Now this isn't about comparing, because I'm solidly aware that my kids are ALREADY uncontestedly the most amazing kids on Earth, but I'm wondering this: Sparkly and her hubby are extremely athletic. They both work out for hours every day - In fact, her husband will be breaking the world record for a pretty widely-known worldwide sporting event this next weekend. (One that involves A LOT of running).
I, on the other hand, satisfy my fitness requirements by chasing kids around. I also garden, participate in the Zen art of Housekeeping (really - I totally dig washing baseboards and ceiling fans), take 3-year-old-paced walks and regularly sweep kiddie-goo off of my very large patio. I haul wood to stock up for my wintertime fireplace, and I make soap (yes, that is too fitness--I stir it with my own two hands).
Granted, that's not really a Gorilla Bum Bump 'n Slide - sliding on my bum and hands along the floor instead of walking (I'm generally standing through most of that stuff) - but it IS sort of a mutated view of fitness.
So - what I wonder is this: Is Sparkly's little guy just a walking prodigy, or did he just see SO MUCH running and walking that he decided to try it as soon as he was able? Hm. Maybe it's just that Dream Boy is very fat, or maybe he's just really smart - after all, don't we ALL wish we could just relax and be carried a bit more...?
I wonder. What do you think?
I suppose Introductions are in order
Ok, let's get this baby started. In an attempt to discourage Chester D. Molester I have code names for my kids. Well, in fact, I have code names for everyone 'cuz it's fun. Everyone is real.
I am 'da Renegade Mama. In my late 30's with 4 children under 5 years old, I have never been interested in "convention". While I'm certainly not some dork who acts weird simply for the effect, I definitely don't care what the neighbors think. I have over a decade of college education (nearly a 4.0 gpa), but no degree - nope not even an associates degree. My interests were too widely varied to follow only one course. I am a serial entrepreneur and my children mean the world to me. I am divorced, and presently I have no money. Maybe someday I'll tell how that all worked out. Maybe not.
Ex Husband: Let's call him The Holy Man. Tall, dark and handsome with sea blue eyes and gorgeous long curly hair. After we were married a couple of years, he decided that it was unnecessary for him to contribute to the family (my version of the story, of course), and that it was much more important to him to wander the earth like Jesus to "find himself" and "heal/enlighten people". Noble cause? Sure. (whatever). He is a TERRIFIC father who is consistently around for our kids. Sometimes I like him, sometimes I don't. We are friends, though, and DO co-parent very well. Many of our friends think he is certifiably crazy. Really.
My Firstborn: This lovely lady is my Mermaid. At the opening of this blog, she is 5 years old and has just begun Kindergarten in public school.
My Second: Highly emotional and exceptionally beautiful, this sweet darlin is known as The Fairy Princess. As of today, she is a week away from being 4 years old.
Number Three: This feisty lil' thing is a biter. Yeah, not my favorite quality, but it kinda sums up her "spit and vinegar" personality pretty well. She's my 2 year old Lady Leprechaun.
The Baby: Despite being convinced of everything to the contrary, this one turned out to be a boy! (Surprised? Yes. Unhappy about it? No way!) 1 year old, inquisitive and a fellow who loves to bang on pots and pans, this guy is my Dream Boy.
Big Daddy: My Pop
Sweet Mama: My Mom
Xrad: One of my sisters. I watch her SEVEN kids very often while she attends school and other such things
Pu: My youngest sister. She's 27. She's pretty damn amazing - she's actively ending World Poverty as we speak. She's single, by the way....oh yeah, and so am I.
Big Sis: My older Sister. (I'm the 2nd born, she's #1). Has 5 kids, works full time and has an absolutely gorgeous 1/2 acre garden.
Crispy: My best Girlfriend
Spratt: My best Girlfriend's Husband
Ok - this list is getting way too long and is ending up not all that interesting. As my posts begin to flow, you'll meet several more players (I have seven siblings to begin with...), but I think I'll just add em when I add em.
At present, I'm watching13 children in my 1100 square foot house, it's rainy outside and I just gave scissors to them. Heh heh .... wonder what's gonna come of THAT!
I am 'da Renegade Mama. In my late 30's with 4 children under 5 years old, I have never been interested in "convention". While I'm certainly not some dork who acts weird simply for the effect, I definitely don't care what the neighbors think. I have over a decade of college education (nearly a 4.0 gpa), but no degree - nope not even an associates degree. My interests were too widely varied to follow only one course. I am a serial entrepreneur and my children mean the world to me. I am divorced, and presently I have no money. Maybe someday I'll tell how that all worked out. Maybe not.
Ex Husband: Let's call him The Holy Man. Tall, dark and handsome with sea blue eyes and gorgeous long curly hair. After we were married a couple of years, he decided that it was unnecessary for him to contribute to the family (my version of the story, of course), and that it was much more important to him to wander the earth like Jesus to "find himself" and "heal/enlighten people". Noble cause? Sure. (whatever). He is a TERRIFIC father who is consistently around for our kids. Sometimes I like him, sometimes I don't. We are friends, though, and DO co-parent very well. Many of our friends think he is certifiably crazy. Really.
My Firstborn: This lovely lady is my Mermaid. At the opening of this blog, she is 5 years old and has just begun Kindergarten in public school.
My Second: Highly emotional and exceptionally beautiful, this sweet darlin is known as The Fairy Princess. As of today, she is a week away from being 4 years old.
Number Three: This feisty lil' thing is a biter. Yeah, not my favorite quality, but it kinda sums up her "spit and vinegar" personality pretty well. She's my 2 year old Lady Leprechaun.
The Baby: Despite being convinced of everything to the contrary, this one turned out to be a boy! (Surprised? Yes. Unhappy about it? No way!) 1 year old, inquisitive and a fellow who loves to bang on pots and pans, this guy is my Dream Boy.
Big Daddy: My Pop
Sweet Mama: My Mom
Xrad: One of my sisters. I watch her SEVEN kids very often while she attends school and other such things
Pu: My youngest sister. She's 27. She's pretty damn amazing - she's actively ending World Poverty as we speak. She's single, by the way....oh yeah, and so am I.
Big Sis: My older Sister. (I'm the 2nd born, she's #1). Has 5 kids, works full time and has an absolutely gorgeous 1/2 acre garden.
Crispy: My best Girlfriend
Spratt: My best Girlfriend's Husband
Ok - this list is getting way too long and is ending up not all that interesting. As my posts begin to flow, you'll meet several more players (I have seven siblings to begin with...), but I think I'll just add em when I add em.
At present, I'm watching13 children in my 1100 square foot house, it's rainy outside and I just gave scissors to them. Heh heh .... wonder what's gonna come of THAT!
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