Ignore the camera shadow. Self portrait and all that.


I added deep burgundy and got a swing bob. I love it.

Poll

Don't forget to check out my new zit poll on the right hand side of the blog!

To vacuum

How many sore muscles does it take to vacuum a house?



Every last one of them, apparently.

Red Stuff

Princess stayed home sick today with a sore throat and headache. I can tell she's really sick because she's been sleeping most of the day. She never does that.

Anyway, one more person in the house means that I didn't notice Pebbles' prolonged silence. I started to smell something fruity and candy-like but I wasn't sure if it was the conditioner I used the other day that seems to be hanging around. (I colored my hair -- the camera battery is recharging) Long story short, it turned out to be airborne jello particulate. Yum.

This time I found a damp cloth covered in jello powder. At least she's trying to hide the evidence clean up after herself.

While I'm sitting here

While I'm sitting here feeling like beaten, limp spaghetti, an anecdote:

Pebbles: Mom, I'na kitty. Meow!

Me: Hi kitty! Are you a dog?

P: Woof!

Me: Are you a cow?

P: Moooooo.

Me: Are you... Tag?

P: AAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Me: Are you... CrustyCupcake?

P: [blows kisses]

Me: Are you... Mom?

P: Mmmmm, hi!

Me: Are you a monkey?

P: Who who who Hee!!

It's so funny what sound pops out of her when she thinks of different people.

Shred Day 2

The second day is always harder than the first.

Oy.

Things that are sore: pecs, biceps, quads, gluts, hamstring, abs....

Things that aren't sore: My pinky finger, and my fabulous deep burgandy hair.

The insanity of new parents

I know someone from high school who will be giving birth to twins shortly. She had a baby shower invite on Facebook which, unfortunately, I had to decline due to geographical differences. But, fortunately, she's registered at Target.

Oy.

Now, I remember being crazy as a new parent. "What will I need? What if the baby doesn't like this kind of pacifier? Should I get all 6 different kinds?" etc. And everyone has the right to dream about their perfect nursery. I'm just starting to get more of an idea of why people say that babies cost so much money.

A few things they have listed:
- Guitar Hero World Tour Band for X-Box
- Sweet Peace Soothing Center
- SAFE SENTRY FIRE SAFE COMBO
- A mini fridge
- Three Different Strollers, all of which hold twins
- A telescopic ladder
- A jogging stroller that holds one kid
- $100 sound system
- $100 trash can
- $100 framed art
- About 10 different kinds of excersaucer, jump toy, or various other things you can put your baby in to give your arms a rest (which is awesome, but 10 different kinds?)
- Boxes of diapers up to size 6 (and I'll be the first to say that whenever I have a friend either giving birth to twins or she's run out of baby showers, I'll usually get the biggest box of diapers in their favorite brand and a big box of wipes. ) They've registered for 6 boxes of each size, and in two different brands.
- I think they put every kind of lotion and soap they could find on the shelf. Travel packs, every brand I've ever heard of, and in every size.
- Several kinds of pacifiers, pre-mixed formula, and formula accessories. All kinds of accessories.

I'm not judging them. I'm just shaking my head and chuckling because I remember being that bat-guano insane. The list goes on for 6 pages and includes dozens of cd's, towels, and I seriously think they scanned every last thing they could find in the baby section at Target and then some.

What did we end up using, realistically:

- A crib that my kind sister in law gave us. Goodness knows Princess would have been sleeping in a laundry basket otherwise.
- A moses basket bassinet another kind sister in law gave us. It made such a difference for the first month or two.
- Pacifiers. If my kids take them, I let them have them. It's easier to take away than a thumb.
- Blankets. Grandma H used to make these wonderful flannel blankets that we've used for every one of our kids. Frieda cuddles with hers all the time.
- Clothes. And there are often floating bags of baby clothes in family wards and thrift stores are stuffed with baby clothes in great condition.
- Burp cloths. We went through huge stacks of these things.
- Car seat. We got ours from a consignment shop for $20.

And that's about it. Princess didn't even have more than a couple of toys until she was about a year old. A friend gave us a walker that she found on clearance for very cheap and we used that for three kids. The only piece of equipment I wish I had right off the bat was a good electric pump. It can make such a difference especially if you have a tendency to mastitis.

Oh, and tens of thousands of diapers. Literally.

What's the weirdest thing you've seen on a baby shower registry?

I've been Shredded

It wouldn't work in the computer because the computer's stupid. (I don't want to hear about it)

So I got out the mini dvd player and prayed.

"Lord, I've decided to do this. I've asked for help finding the remote, for help in seeing this through for 30 days, and help with my health and changing my lifestyle. I've researched, studied, repented of my foolish pride concerning my shame in my body and begun my road. I've been eating healthier with more whole grains and vegetables, and I've been making greater efforts to serve my fellow people. I'm asking for a miracle. Please let this DVD player work for the whole work out. I'm going to have the faith to set it up, turn it on, and start. I will see it through. I'm in peachcot mode [ask me about that some time -- funny story]. I've tried every other means of getting this done. Now, if it's Your will that I do this, please provide a way."

So He did. And I did. And I've completed day one. :)

29 more to go. But I'm taking Sunday's off.

Not!

It turns out that I can't do anything with this DVD until I find the remote. The default option is "recommendations" with "workouts" one tantalizing position down. I gave myself a while to find the remote before breaking out the mini DVD player. But I couldn't find the power cord. So, the hunt for the universal remote began. It needed batteries. Which it got but still wouldn't power up. By now I'm miffed because we have something like 10 AC adapters for all voltages but 12 and not a one of them is labeled or put with its friend, the machine which is powers. The reason for this is that Man has his own "special" way of organizing which is infuriatingly the opposite of mine. I like to have things in their own bins, containers, or bags with labels, or tags of some kind so I can tell what the heck it goes with. Man just remembers. I look at a USB cable and go "duuuuuuuuh" and drool for a bit, while Man takes a look at it and says "oh yeah, that goes with such and such an item I bought 3 years ago. Here, use this one that looks exactly like the first one but most assuredly is the one which you seek." Or something close to that.

So, no Shred yet today. I'm going to see if it works on my computer and I've considered taking the mini DVD player out to the car and doing it in my driveway, but I've decided that I'm not THAT determined.

I AM determined, however, that this desk will be organized some time this week. So help me, or get out of my way.

-scowly face-

It came

It came yesterday, in the dead of the frostbitten, howling night. Ice lashed against my windows and cheeks as a dark robed man handed me a package wrapped in tattered linen.

"Thus, you be damned," his reedy voice screeched in glee. With a flick of his cloak he swirled into an icy, passing gust and vanished.

I stood transfixed by what I held in my hand. A key. A key to pain, and suffering. A key to a path of sweat, tears, anguish and yes, perhaps even blood. A key to loss, and howling frustration. I trembled as I backed into my home, bringing the package with me. The storm door slammed with a crack that shook me from my reverie. I shook my head sharply, scowled, and raised the package above my head.

"I shall not allow such a thing to be my master! I shall meet my goal and this shall be a mere tool! Hear this, harbinger of all human grief. You are my servant. I do not fear."



It is time.

Time to Shred.

The 30 Day Shred has arrived.


.

Freezing again

Well, the Texans take ice so seriously that not only did school start two hours late, Man got to go into work late as well. We all woke up about 7 and had a leisurely breakfast of French toast (Freedom toast?) made from homemade bread I threw in the bread maker last night. Then Man got to listen to the latest TED talk while I folded laundry and he played a game of Guess Who? with the kids. My dishes are done, the kids played together very nicely, and I showed them how to put a long sleeved shirt under a short sleeved shirt. I'm so tickled that this simple fashion rebellion that I liked as a youth lives on in my kids. As I helped Tag layer a dark green shirt under his camo shirt, Princess kept asking "Are you sure this isn't against the rules? Is he allowed to do this?" Then she jumped on the bandwagon and picked out her own shirt combo.

It was a great morning. And now I'm grateful for some quiet wherein to type a bit and gather my strength to tackle Tag's closet.

The funny thing is, there wasn't any ice on the ground this morning that I could see. Unless TX has got Super Sneaky Black Ice that I've never heard of, the roads were 100% safe (as long as you didn't count the 80% freaked out motorists). I can't tell you how grateful I was for a calm, delightful morning. Man's spirits perked remarkably from the extra sleep.

It's funny

As soon as I have to start sorting through and packing my house, I suddenly want to blog every little thing that passes through my mind. Which would be boring for all of us.

It was fun to wake up to ice on the ground this morning. This is the second time this winter that we've had ice. It's interesting to watch the people around here who have no ice scraper sit in their cars, waiting for them to warm up. They put their windshield wipers on high to try to get the ice off, or pound the ice with their fists, and bundle up like it's an icy apocalypse. Many of us here can sort of chuckle and sigh at the silly Texans who don't know how to get ice off their cars, but after living in largely ice-free parts of the country for over two years I can see how it'd be easy to grow unaccustomed to dealing with the frustrating substance. Thank goodness we kept all our ice scrapers even after the sedan totaled.

Has anyone tried that anti-ice windshield fluid? I have a feeling that it may come in handy in Maryland if it works.

I sorted through everything in my bedroom yesterday so today it's time to tackle the closet. -sigh- I managed to pack two boxes, put together an overflowing box to donate, and fill two trash bags. There's still a lot to pack but it's starting to look doable.

hum-dee-hum

There is dried oatmeal on the floor.

There is no dinner cooking.

95% of my stuff isn't in boxes yet.

My taxes aren't doing themselves.

The three loads of dirty laundry and three loads of clean laundry are looking a little limp and morose.

We have family home evening tonight and there is no lesson.

And I'm sitting at my computer READING.

And I don't feel guilty. Not smug, but not guilty either.

Oops, Freida just spilled a can of cheddar Pringles.

[/peaceful feeling]

Obama

I love this article. I hope it's true.

(Warning, you might need to make a username and password since it's from the Washington Post. It's free.)

Moving made easier

I don't know if moving could ever be said to be easy. Our nation is now very mobile in the sense that we can get around quickly, easily, and relatively cheaply. But we're more like tether balls, swinging about but always connected to one point in space that we call "home".

We have moved a lot. This is going to be our 8th move and, while some aspects of doing so are old and familiar (haunting liquor store dumpsters for boxes, throwing out piles of things) there are some parts of it that are suddenly so complicated.

Leave forms are a really big deal in the Army. So are TDY forms, and housing applications that need no fewer than 10 forms or copies of identification, and now the kids are in school and Princess has an IEP, and Tag has asthma so we have to fill out an EFMP form which involves a dr's visit and wrestling (called "wrastling" around here) with the clinic until it's filled out, and if we do a DItY move then we have a whole bunch of other forms to fill out not to mention all the paper work after the move to get reimbursed.

This is on top of calling all of the utilities, sending paperwork to our landlord so we can break our lease due to orders being issued, and things like steam cleaning the carpets.

I tell ya, we definitely earn our moving reimbursements.

So, how do you make all this easier? My friend the CrustyCupcake has the right idea: lists. In fact, I'm making a list of all the lists I have just because one master list would make me cry.

Here is a list of things I'm allowing myself to not do as we once again prepare the house to move:

1. Selling Girl Scout cookies is not a holy mission nor will being casual about it make my kid a future junkie. We can walk around the neighborhood a few times but, heaven and earth, I won't be all over town every day after school trying to earn my kid a merit badge.

2. Home cooked meals are wonderful but homemade bread will have to be shelved. Time to usher in cold cut dinners and frozen lasagnas.

3. Daily Show, I love you, but you are now relegated to laundry folding time to maximize my mornings. TED, I love you even more, and I'll watch you while I pedal my bike and eat lunch.

4. Knitting, you get to happen while I wait those 2-3 mins for the kids to get out of school. As long as the big white truck with the balls hanging from its trailer hitch doesn't take up the entire pickup lane, making it impossible for me to park in the parking lot beyond.

5. Blogging, -sob-, I've already been missing you. I'll still be back to say hi and tell the world my news.


Yesterday I had my hair in a pony tail since it's long enough to do that nowadays, but the ponytail gave me a headache. I shook my hair out and winced and Man said "well, you've got it in the wrong way. There are ways to put in a pony tail so that you don't get pressure and pulling that hurt your head."

Me: [staring at him for a second] What the heck do you know about pony tails?

Man: Fine, maybe I don't.

Me: Sorry for the tone. But, gosh dang, Man, I'm perfectly flabbergasted that you're telling me how to put in the perfect pony tail.

Man: [looking a bit miserable] Does this mean you want to cut it again?

Me: Yep. I'm thinking of getting a swing bob.

Man: What is that?

Me: In Man Speak, it means "too short."

One of the biggest issues we have is that we're not precisely certain of dates yet. We know when we're supposed to report (and where -- here we come, Maryland!) but we don't know anything besides that. If you're wondering how important other dates could be when the report date seems so critical... just trust me. There are a lot of dates happening in March that will have a huge impact on what will happen in April regardless of the report date.

So, does anyone want to earn a jelly donut and a tall, cold glass of Country Time by helping us load a moving van?

Authenticity revisited

Thanks to Jen, who pointed me in the direction of another view on authenticity.

Go ahead and read it. It's a good one.

And now let's talk about personal authenticity. My previous entry was sort of a sarcastic, skeptical take on the commercialization of authenticity ("pay 4x as much money for this vinegar/tire/hammock/whatever because it's AUTHENTIC even though it, too, is made in China.") but personal authenticity is an entirely different animal.

The Joseph Pine talk on TED specifically addressed the value of being true to oneself in addition to being what you say you are to others. Are you loving? In order to be authentically loving, you must do things to love yourself and do things to love others. (love as a verb is a whole 'nother topic)

Honestly, I feel that this is the only sort of authenticity that you can be 100% sure of because you know where it comes from, you can see the fruits of it, and you know how much of you is really behind what you say and do. Some people might call this integrity.

And now off I go to clean some more. Even having two kids in school leaves little time for getting into human nature.

Amazon again

I can't believe I ordered this.

Let's recap:

1. I don't like pain. I'm so an epidural during labor kind of person. (Pitocin helped influence that decision, but even without it I'm sure I'd still be an epidural person)

2. I'm out of shape. We havn't been doing the walking to school thing because the tire on the double stroller has been out and I'm been too lazy to get on the bike regularly.

3. I can't find the DVD remote. So I'll be stuck just hitting play on the box until I can locate it or figure out this universal remote we have knocking around the entertainment center.

4. Doesn't this lady look intimidating? I don't want a body like that, with abs like a dude. I just want to feel good and be strong.

5. Someone else I've been reading hurt herself doing this video. Erck!

6. I couldn't even do a belly dancing exercise video because it kicked my arms' butt!

7. I can't do even one push up, let alone the 20 they do to "warm up".

I blame the constant decongestants I've been on the last 36 hours. I also blame them for making the dumb mistake of giving a mesmer the secondary class of paragon in Guild Wars. Paragon!! What kind of bozo would do something stupid like that?

I guess I better hit the bike 2-3 times a day until it gets here. And maybe start taking preemptive vicoden.

[blank]

-sigh-

It is now Jan 21st

Jan 21st means only one thing here -- Girl Scout Cookie Time!

I'm now allowed to sell Girl Scout cookies to anyone and everyone I meet. We came home with cases(!!) of them so you can get your fix instantly.

What can one 2 year old do in a day?

1. Flattening half a loaf of bread.

2. Opening a box of cake mix, dumping half of it into a bowl, and preparing to eat it with a spoon.


3. That's a full dozen eggs. Well, the other two are on the ground.


4. A whole bottle of sugar sprinkles and a box and a half of candles.

5.Fingerprints, holes in the cake.

6. All of her clothes are all over the floor.


7. And this doesn't include the yogurt on the back window.

All. In. One. Day.

I'm so glad that not every day is like this one.

Inauguration

Doing the happy dance. :)

TED. And thoughts.

I've really been enjoying TED. It's brain candy, I don't agree with everything, and it isn't addictive. It's perfect.

Some ideas people have been throwing out:

1. Authenticity is a consumerist phenomenon, and therefore our desire for it has been both manufactured and the result of cultural evolution.

2. One guy sampled some of the world's finest delicacies (including a ride in an expensive car, Kobe beef, and staggeringly expensive rotten grape juice)

3. Another man spoke about what sort of revolution came about when a smart man first developed variety among spaghetti sauces. He contends that rather than having one superlative product, a rainbow of superlative products can better answer American preferences.

So, here are the thoughts.

The search for authenticity led spaghetti producers to offer a thin sauce that doesn't stick to noodles, because that's what real Italians in Italy make to put over their pasta. However, they later found that consumers truly desire a chunky spaghetti sauce that sticks to pasta, and then they had to make it seem as if that were the truly authentic version. They made it appear as if the inferior sauce were simply a failed American machination and that the chunky stuff was actually the real thing and therefore superior, rather than allowing the superior virtues to speak for themselves.

The guy who tried the Kobe beef also said that a lot of these things that the super rich pay for end up being largely anticlimactic, but that some things might be worth experiencing once or twice in your life "just for the experience." And another man goes on to say that there is no such thing as a truly authentic experience. Even if you're going for a hike in the woods, you drove a car to the bottom of the mountain, you're hiking in man-made boots, and you're eating food that you either brought or was carefully preserved in a national park setting so it would be safe to eat. There are so few places in this world that aren't touched by man and even searching for or finding them and then arriving at them nullifies their virginity.

So let's talk about hipness. Being hip is such an interesting idea. You can only be truly hip if you like truly good music that few people have heard of, or have read truly good books not so many people have read, or gone on vacations to truly enjoyable places that seem novel. The hipsters search for the unknown or little known experience but as soon as its known and appreciated in general, it is no longer hip. Thus hipness is ever elusive and vastly individual because part of hipness is having a fascinating and aesthetic personal style. In our search for the perfect spaghetti sauce, we have forgotten that you can start with a tomato and work your way from there. We moved on to starting with a jar of tomatoes, or a can of tomatoes, and then we moved on to jars of tomato sauce which became jars of spaghetti sauce which became Lucini Italia Sicilian Olive and Wild Caper Sauce.

Someone once told me that American grocery stores are simply overwhelming because there was too much variety. But isn't freedom to choose and the availability of choices part of what makes this country great? This person said she ended up not choosing at all because she was too overwhelmed by the variety. Go into any large grocery store and you will be greeted by at least 20 different kinds of pasta sauce (Alfredo, tomato, pesto, pink) and yet, Man points out that some people will still leave the store without finding that which they sought.

Some would argue that choices are both a skill and an acquired taste. I agree. But at what point are we really satisfied that we have found precisely what we want? At what point have we achieved a superlative experience?

I like Prego. We just get the traditional flavor and I'll add some ground meat, or olives, or mushrooms as I have the whim. I think that a great solution to the choice issue is to have basic platforms from which to work. This scenario works for me because we happen to cook from scratch about 95% of the time. I walk out of the grocery store with potatoes, tomatoes, flour, salt, and milk. I do buy salad dressings and other condiments, but my menues consist of plain ingredients that need preparation. How many households consistently consume food prepared from scratch in their own homes?

I figure, by the time you find your perfect spaghetti sauce (Prego Mushroom), your perfect pasta (Barilla wheat angel hair), your perfect garlic bread (Swanson something or other), get your bagged salad, bagged croutons, and some steamed corn, it has taken you more time and money to research, acquire, and get things out of their packaging than to just throw ingredients into your bread maker, rinse some lettuce, and toss some mushrooms into your basic sauce.

Man pointed out to me that as much "scratch" cooking as we do, we still get pasta from the store, and we like to get a loaf of Italian bread that I slice up, freeze, and use for garlic toast. We also get canned mushrooms (low sodium) to keep in the cupboard rather than risk fresh going bad.

But the question remains: have we become too busy for our food, or has our food allowed us to become too busy for it?

Also: what would we be willing to sacrifice in order to have what we're told is a superlative experience? Remember that you have to work long, hard hours for 10 minutes of Kobe beef. Unless the work itself is a joy and the beef can be considered a further perk, those hours of your life would be far better spent enjoying some underblade chuck used for French dip sandwiches while sitting at a table and cultivating the most important relationships you'll ever develop.

If you really want to solve the American dilemma, let us cook and find a way to make the dishes do themselves, or make them easily disposed of in an environmentally friendly way. I don't think that Americans don't have time to cook for themselves, I just think they don't have time to clean up after themselves.

The consumerism of authenticity

"The genuine article"

"It's the real thing"

"No imitations"

"All natural, homegrown, from the source, from the horse's mouth, family owned...."

It's all consumerism.

Check it out.

Link.

More thoughts forthcoming after they've had a chance to steep.

A little closer to being a teenager

Princess recently turned 7.

Physical stats:
4'7"
shoe size: 6 (women's shoes)
Shirt size: 12-14 or a small in juniors

Academic stats:
reads 89 wpm
In the top 2 readers of her class, which is the top class in the school district
Great at math and already doing multiplication

Sweetness stats:
Loves rubbing my head
Is very nice to her little sisters
Loves to help people smile

Hobbies:
Loves dolls and pretend play
Loves games, especially with her dad. Any games at all.
Loves to draw and do crafty things

Pet Peeves:
Putting laundry away
Cleaning her room
People who make her room dirty

Favorite Foods:
Spaghetti
Ravioli
Chicken alfredo
Miracle Rice with chicken
BBQ chicken

Favorite colors:
Every color except for brown, gray, and black.

Re-inventing the Wheel

Wheel, schweel.

My husband often tells me that I keep trying to reinvent the wheel as I scrap and rewrite all of these different ways to plan menus, keep house, or write out kids' chore charts.

But picture this: Og, a Neanderthal who is trying to find some way to make his wife's life a lot easier (because let's face it: making your wife happy is the root of all invention) comes up with something called "zort". It was round, rolled across the ground fairly easily, and looked nice. It was chippy, because that's how he made it (using a rock to chip this one out of a larger rock) and maybe too heavy for even his strong and busty mate to make much use of.

So, he brings home the zort and says "ook ee zip zip zippy do" which means, "look, oh beauteous love of my life, I have spent many hours of hard toil creating this object to ease your burden so that you may respect and admire me, and be happy and no longer have headaches every night."

Ugga, tired after a day of tending the young and doing some hunting/gathering because Og spend his hunting/gathering time making the zort, says "erp er hebbity zoop zoop zoop!" which means, "you idiot! What am I supposed to do with that? It's just another piece of garbage you made to clutter the yard. Why don't you go invent something like farming so you can spend more time with the children?"

Og's feelings are hurt and his ego in sore need of fluffing. So he goes down to the watering hole where his Neanderthal buddies (who all know his name) put the yubbity berries in their water to take the sting out of their wives' words.

"Og," says York (whose line later becomes Brittish nobility) "hurk do slorp zing?" which means "Og my friend, why are your knuckles dragging so low today? Were you not in the midst of creating the so called zort which would become a catalyst of philosophical, social, and medical revolution?"

Og grunts, which to this day means "unknown" in the language of small infants and stubborn teenagers. He thinks about his zort, wondering what he could do to improve it. His stomach churns with resentment that his mate didn't appreciate it properly and that he had no ego fluffing to strut in front of his friends. So he bellows and knuckles quickly over to where the big rocks are and, over the course of several weeks, make many versions of the zort -- smaller ones, larger ones, smoother ones, chunkier ones (to which he gave the snazzy moniker "gear!!") more spherical ones, more disc-shaped ones. He also changes the image of the zorts by smearing red mud on them and calling them "wheel", marketing them to 3-6 year olds who have the most convincing power in any cave.

No one is yet sure what can be done with them, but they look pretty, and the holes in the middle make a great place for ornamental flowers. These were called "planters" because they couldn't think of a better word, and Og was indeed credited with inventing farming as well as beginning the lawn ornament craze which still persists among those who still heed their inner Neanderthal.

So, I ask you, what would have happened to all of human history is Og didn't have ingenuity, tenacity, and a far too sensitive ego?

My point is, I like to think that my solutions are somewhat ingenious, and I definitely have tenacity when it comes to scrapping old ideas and looking for new, and my ego is too sensitive to share these ideas with Man very often any more. After all, he has to go hunt and gather every day while I give myself headaches trying to come up with the ever more perfect and simple and motivating way to get myself and my offspring to tidy our cave.

Besides that, after our enormous computer brew-ha-ha this past December, I can't find a lot of my materials anyway. So I had to make new chore charts. And I've found yet another way to plan menus that looks so easy and simple and logical.

So if he complains about yet another new invention that we don't really need because what did we need the old one for in the first place, I'll smear him with red mud and tell him to go invent farming on the moon.

Suave

Register to get a coupon for a free bottle of Suave:

Link.

Projects

The Projects

After Tag told me that meatballs were vegetables, I made this:

The kids seem to really like it. Every night we've been asking them to tell us what we had for dinner and put the right foods on the plate.

And here is a crate cover that even I, with my vanishingly diminutive sewing skills was able to make in about a half hour (if you don't count all of the interruptions that two little girls must make during thirty ETERNAL minutes). I measured wrong and actually have a whole bunch of the blue fabric folded under itself... oh well. It's cute. It's washable. I don't have to see the ugly crate.



A purse made from a Christmas place mat and some ribbon. Both were from the 50% off sales. Total cost: something like $2.50


A scarf I knitted up over the Christmas drive. I think it's my favorite so far.



And a better idea of the colors:

Letter

Dear Ms K,

Tag, in Tag-style, is anxious to know whether he may attend school wilst sporting red hair glue to support his favorite hair style: spikes. He says that he keeps forgetting to ask you whether it's ok and I would greatly prefer a written confirmation in the affirmative or negative as he sometimes doesn't "remember" an answer he doesn't like. He's tired of his barbaric mother forcing him to shower after a glorious afternoon of reveling in his preferred coiffure.

What might the rule book say concerning this pressing issue?

Sincerely,
The Barbaric Mother known as Annie H


Reply on Jan 12:

Sorry,
Tag had asked me last week but he must've forgotten. The [school district] student/parent handbook states "hair or clothing should not be distracting to the child or the other children." No specifics but I bet that red hair spikes would fall under that. [frowny face] Cute idea though! [smiley face]
[heart]
Ms. K

Websites

Thanks, Marcie, for the fabulous links to websites!

I'm loving Paint In My Hair, especially this solution (warning:PDF) to one of my biggest pet peeves: naked crates. I hate naked crates! They're so useful and so ugly!

And TipNut. All I can say is: wow.

Pebbles

Walking through Sam's Club last week, Pebbles was fascinated by the sky lights.

Pebbles: Whassat, mom?

Me: A sky light. You can see the sky through them.

Pebbles: Ooooo, pwiddy.


She was laying in the cart, staring at the ceiling, occasionally ooooo-ing and aaaaaaa-ing. Then she giggled.

Pebbles: Don' fall down, Jesus! [pause] I'm just kidding!

Me: [looking up] What? Is Jesus up there?

Pebbles: Yesth! Don' fall down, Jesus! Just kidding!

I kind of wondered if that was blasphemy, and then I just thought it was cool that she was kind of playing peek-a-boo with Jesus. I bet He'd think that was fun.

The Army wants to know - weight and road trips

Uncle Sam wants to know how much you weigh.

Or, how much I weigh. And how much my Man weighs, and everything in our house.

Now that Christmas is over, it's time to look at the subject of moving again. We came in well under weight on this last move but have since acquired a refrigerator, a lawn mower, a 2 quart crockpot, and about 10 balls of yarn.

When we move we have to weigh the truck empty, weigh the truck full, weigh our van empty, weigh our van full, figure out how much our second vehicle weighs (is the gas tank half empty or half full?) as well as figuring out how many pounds and ounces of food to fill our van with for the trek yonder.

We've learned a lot from our past couple of road trips and the lessons are these:

- Never pack a box of diapers. Sure, you'll use that many, but no matter how much you try to tell yourself the older kids won't mind sitting with it between them, they will get so bored and fed up with each other that they will poke holes in the box (thus poking holes in your precious diapers) and make a fort out of it over which to lob soggy sandwich crusts and drinking straws. Just pack the diaper bag full and buy smaller packages along the way, no matter how many teeth you feel like you're pulling when buying the small package. (non-kidded friends: you can save yourself hundreds of dollars by buying diapers in bulk).

- Screw cap bottles of water are a bit of a pain. Pop tops are nice in theory, but some kid will never get the concept of popping it all the way back on before beating his/her nearest sibling with it thus spraying everyone in the van with water. Even better are those tiny bottles of water that you refill, or have them bring their own straw-equipped thermos.

- Always try the individual packets of Crystal Light before you bring them on a three day trip. We got so tired of lemon aide and white grape, which were the only two non-staining ones I could find but, miser that I am, I was choking it down so it "wouldn't go to waste" because $2 is soooo worth that amount of suffering. (not)

- As much of a good idea as you might think it is to bring "just in case" items, resist the temptation. We brought such things are frisbees, a kite(!), and vacuum packed extra clothes for everyone. Frisbee- crushed. Kite- totally unused. Extra clothes- kinda came in handy toward the very end but really there are plenty of washers and driers in post lodging. Besides that, your vehicle will be stuffed to the gills with items that the movers just couldn't be bothered to throw in the truck like batteries (another curse of buying them in bulk from Costco), the KY jelly they left in the middle of your bedroom floor (curses), Man's walking stick that got left in the dark corner of some closet, and all the airplanes, balls, and Nerf darts that got left on the roof.

-DO bring a small bottle of your own laundry soap. Seriously.

-DO bring some food. The H jury is still out as to whether it's better to just keep everything in a large cooler (takes up space, but keeps the kids from eating out of pure boredom; it's hard to hand things around all the time especially if you're in the middle of knitting a row) or just fill their lunch boxes every morning and tell them it has to last all day long (they can choose when to eat without bothering you; the food is usually gone before noon and then they get grumpy).
Snacks to bring:
- Surprisingly, carrot sticks are very popular with my young ones, as are whole apples.
- PB&J sandwiches are good as long as you have a way to not squish them.
- Turkey sammies are also good as long as you don't put things like pickles and lettuce on them (they wilt and make the sandwich soggy -- turkey and mayo should always be in a cooler).
- We don't keep our drinks cold because of the extra bulk of doing so as well as condensation issues and kids who don't know how to deal with it.
- Tiny gladloc container of cold cereal make a great snack.

-DO NOT bring the following food and beverage items:
Soda - blows up, stains, makes things sticky.
Koolaide - sugar, stains.
Oreo cookies - way too messy, especially in the hands of someone under the age of 12.
Gum - unless they've mastered the art of throwing it away when they're done (or, as my clever 2 year old has discovered, just swallow it)
Anything that needs a spoon.

- DO bring a roll of paper towels and maybe a roll of TP (one of those "just in case" things that don't take much room but you never know what you'll find, or not, in a highway lav.)

- DO bring extra grocery bags to use as trash/dirty diaper bags.

- It's up to you whether you bring (1 blanket + 1 pillow = 1 person) as only you can tell how crowded that will be. We've found that the older kids like this combo as long as they have a place to stash them but the youngers just need their special blankets. Man and I use those memory foam pillows so we each bring our pillow but one usually goes into the cargo area.

-DO NOT let your husband talk you into bringing his favorite heavy blanket that takes up more room than all the clothes combined.

-Call each hotel and ask if they have cribs available. If you don't have to bring the Pack-n-play, so much the better.

-DO NOT pack all of the clothes into one huge sports equipment sized duffle bag. You WILL regret this.

-If you're moving during the school year, DO bring the kids' backpacks and lunch boxes as well as all the papers you'll need for registration.

-DO bring your husband's leave form. If he gets pulled over for speeding, he could get taken to jail for being AWOL. Unless he's a civilian.

-TRY NOT TO WORRY about the things you forgot to bring. It'll be ok, really. Unless it's something like asthma meds, or your check book, or a map, or your orders, or... you know. That kind of stuff.

-DO stop and smell the roses. Road trips are like life: it's all about the driving part until you get to the end. Enjoy the beauty of the land and people, enjoy the humor and singing as a family, stop when you see a vista or outlook.

And, for heaven's sake, check your kid's shoes after stopping at a rest stop if there's a "pet exercise area" or it won't matter how many roses you smelled.

Buying stuff from Amazon is Hard!

Before Christmas I found dozens of things that were worthy of putting into my virtual cart only to agonize over the funds and whether I wanted to add more junk to my home. Do I really need more cheap books that I read twice and put away forever? Do I need more kitchen gadgets? (The answer to this one is usually "Yes!!") Do the kids need more toys when their toy boxes e'en now yea verily runneth over? (yes, I did that sentence on purpose.)

My kind uncle sent an Amazon.com gift card. I'm claiming it as mine since Man already got himself his Christmas stuff (computer stuff, we've already gone over that) and now I'm faced with a horrible problem: I can't think of what to buy.

I looked at the smaller crockpots because I had been thinking of getting one. There are many uses for small crockpots including dinner items that tend to be, well, smaller. But I checked the price at WalMart and found one for half the price in the size I wanted.

The other things in my cart are crockpot liners (which I love, love, love), an otoscope (by Dr Mom) and an earwax removal syringe.

Now, getting all defensive, the ear stuff isn't for me. I'm a q-tip-after-every-shower kind of girl. My kids get stopped up ears about once a year and I'm tired of using a broken and jury rigged otoscope I got from Walgreens eons ago to try to peek into wiggly kid head caves and go spelunking for gosh knows what with the help of a 3 ounce bulb syringe, and a gallon of warm water mixed with H2O2. (wouldn't that end up being H2O1/2?)

What would you buy on Amazon?

Messes, messes, everywhere

In all the messes that happen around here, my percentage of fault hides most dexterously. I'll claim 1% here, 2% there, oh dear only 0.5% over there. By the time it all adds up, my portion of the chaos is a bit embarrassing. Here's something that was 100% my fault (if only 2% of that day's "oops"s.)

I tried to defrost some turkey in my microwave. I hit the button and walked away. You know, the "ground meat" button that's supposed to magically defrost the frozen log and make it "fresh" again. I was going to make meatballs for spaghetti. This is what I came back to:

Say it with me: Ew!!!

Say it again! EWWWW!!!

This is what happened:

So, I have two different buttons that say "ground meat" on them. One is for defrosting, one is for cooking. I ended up chopping it up, cooking it the rest of the way, and throwing it into the sauce. It tasted pretty good.

Here is the other mess that made up about 36% of that day's Oops.


It turns out that Pebbles likes to dance in these glittery shoes that are too small for Princess but far too large for Pebbles. That doesn't stop her though. She dumped Cheerioes on the ground and danced in them in true hoofer style. It was terribly cute but not so cute when it came to "clean up your own darn mess".

A veggie a day...

Tag: Mom, I don't want fajitas for dinner.

Me: What do you want to make for dinner?

Tag: Oatmeal. I know how to make that.

Me: Well, for a family dinner you need to have either two vegetables or a vegetable and a fruit to go with dinner if it's going to have a main dish that all grains, like oatmeal.

Tag: Fine, we'll have spaghetti with the oatmeal.

Me: No, no, you need a vegetable, too.

Tag: Ok, we can have meatballs.



Methinks I've left a grievous gap in his nutritional education.

The days are always greener on the other side of the weekend

Before Christmas break, we couldn't wait to crash on our couches and drool until the new year. Of course, visiting my family was a huge high light for me and, after the drive from CA, 12 hours in the car didn't seem like that bad of a deal. After getting home we were looking forward to a week of vegging again until the new year. Then Man's grandfather passed away. Man flew out for the funeral and is remaining there for the last of his "relaxation" time (it can't be helped, I know, and I don't resent it, but there you have it).

Isn't it funny how when Mom leaves, the family eats junk food. My mom didn't leave us to fend for ourselves very often and we always managed to eat Subway or pizzas or some other sort of fantastically delicious junk food that we didn't seem to eat very often as younger kids. At my house, something similar happens, except we eat junk food no matter which parent is gone. Man makes a mean tray of nuggets and fries. When Man is gone, my drive to put a whole, Man-filling dinner on the table is much diminished.

The first day he was gone, I think we grazed until bedtime. We sort of ate leftovers, apples, and whatever we could rustle up from the couch cushions. When I announced that it was bedtime, the kids rebelled and claimed that since a real dinner hadn't been presented to them, it wasn't fair that they didn't have a chance to eat.

Contention 1: they don't really eat my cooking much anyway, unless it's one of 3 things they've decided they like, which is always changing anyway.

Contention 2: they had, in fact, been eating all night. Apparently it doesn't count if it doesn't happen all at once.

So I gave them glasses of milk and sent them to bed. I promised pancakes in the morning.

The next day we headed up to the store to grab the dried beans and cans of diced tomatoes I needed for Marcie's chili (which I've been eating ever since -- it's even better the next day) and each of them decided that they wanted to spend their allowance buying a totino's pizza and a donut. Blech. They claimed that they would eat them for dinner rather than eat my chili because they knew, in the precognitive sort of way only kids and gamblers can believe in, that it was going to taste terrible. Joke's on them.

They ended up eating their pizzas for lunch. Tag had the foresight to buy two, just in case, which his sister later begged him into sharing when she realized she had run out of junk food options come dinner time.

Today, we ate pancakes and granola bars. We've run out of apples because my kids eat them like a swarm of locusts. Which I love. I always keep apples handy because who am I to discourage their appetite for fresh fruit? On the way to a friend's house we gabbed the epitome of evil food from the kingdom of the tyrannical R. McDonald, who rules the land of golden arches with a greasy, fat fist that looks like a fist but it's really just his hand that's so fat you can't tell the difference and neither can he.

-sigh-

So, anyway, I was catching up with my friend who I havn't seen in over 24 hours and noticed that there are a lot of things I'm waiting on until school's back in. We were keeping Pebbles out of diapers and running about commando to help her potty train, but stopped that for our road trip (which I'm sure my grandparents appreciated). We also put Freida back on bottles all day instead of her usual one bottle in the morning with a sippy cup the rest of the day. And bedtime has slowly crept back to 9 instead of 7:30, dinner's a joke, laundry is optional when you don't have any place to be, and the chore charts havn't been printed out in quite some time.

What does all this tell me? That I'm bad at managing this home without some external force dictating a couple of scheduling elements each day. In the mean time, we're having a blast just playing around despite a bit of grumpiness from kids whose nap times are not where they are used to having them.

It was 80° today. Who can time manage with something like that going on outside?