Children Complications

On Thursday nights, my husband has church obligations which leaves the children and I alone for dinner. To take advantage of the situation assuage our loneliness, we take turns picking which restaurant we will eat at in honor of his absence. Tonight, it was BoopaLoop's turn, and she picked Islands.

As we walked into the restaurant, I was reminded of another time about 2 years ago I went to Islands with my kids alone. I hoped the same thing that happened then wouldn't happen tonight.

Two years ago, BoopaLoop wasn't yet potty trained, but LittleMan was. About 3/4 of the way through the meal, LittleMan told me that he had to go potty. I remember being irritated at the fact that he had gone potty before lunch, and now he had to go again. Sighing heavily, but trying to maintain calm, I told him okay. I took my purse, BoopaLoop and LittleMan.

Off we go to find the potty. This particular Islands was part of a hotel. So, in order to minimize the number of non-customer-potty-users (evidently), the restaurant in its infinite wisdom decided not to put any potties in their restaurant. Instead, you have to exit the restaurant through the double-doors that lead to the hotel lobby. Fine. We thanked the Islands employee for that information, and off we went.

For those of you familiar with children who are adept at potty usage but too young to understand the passage of time, will recall that it takes FOR. EVER. for a child this age to do... uh... number 2. I think we were in the bathroom a good 30 minutes before I asked LittleMan, "Are you sure you have to go poop?" The answer was a resounding yes. Sigh...

We returned to the restaurant, and as I approached our table I noticed the lack of mess. The seats were spotless. The floor under the table was spotless. That wasn't how we left the table. My moment of gratitude was immediately replaced with dawning dread: they bused our table. LittleMan had this expression on his face of controlled sadness. The rest of his precious hamburger was gone. My barely touched soft tacos were history. The busboy was very efficient - there was new tableware.

At that moment of realization, I happened to make eye contact with our waitress. She looked like a vindicated terror. She ran up to me and said, "I'm so, so sorry I told the busboy to stop cleaning the table I knew there was no way you would leave! You have two small children!!" She went on for about 30 seconds longer before BoopaLoop made her strongwill known by insisting I put her down.

The waitress asked me if there was anything she could do, and I said that I was so sorry they thought that I had "dined and ditched". I told her we were almost finished anyway, but that my son was disappointed at not having the rest of his hamburger. She offered to make us a new one; I said no since we had to get on the road, and cooking a new burger would take too much time for my 2-year old to sit for when she was done eating. So, the waitress brought out a Kona Pie on the house! This ice cream masterpiece was enough to shut down any further grumbling from me the children.

Fast-forward to tonight, and of course the same thing happened. This time BoopaLoop had to go potty. But, I was prepared thanks to our previous experience. I told the first server I saw that we were coming back and to please not clean our table.

When we returned, we found the table in exactly the same disaster we left it in with a beautiful little note on the edge of the table that said, "Don't clean me!"

Thanks to these two experiences I've learned a valuable lesson: always carry a pen so I can write the bloody sign myself!

Peter Pan STINKS!

Okay, Peter Pan doesn't completely stink, but it is really annoying. The Disney Store had this amazing sale some time ago, and Peter Pan was one of the movies that they'd only release every 40-thousand years (brilliant marketing strategy, by the way), so I decided to buy it. I figured it had pirates (but not scary ones like Pirates of the Caribbean), its main character was a boy (rather than a princess), and it had old fashioned values. What more could my 6-year old LittleMan and 4-year old BoopaLoop want?

Most of the movie is fairly benign, in my opinion. Three cute kids have an exciting adventure to the land they always dreamed to go. That part is fine. The part that I find completely annoying is that EVERY SINGLE female character (except the mother) exhibits intense jealousy over Peter Pan! Tinker Bell hates Wendy because of jealousy. The mermaids hate Wendy because of jealousy. Even Wendy hates Princess TigerLily because of jealousy! As I watch my daughter watch this movie, I wonder what she is gleaning from it.

The movie ends well enough with Wendy deciding that she wants to grow up after all, but I'm convinced that the only reason for that epiphany was due to Peter Pan's reaction to Wendy's jealousy. He didn't care. I think the moral of this story is that girls get jealous all the time, and we as women need to grow up and fend for ourselves. And, that boys will be boys, and you can't change them.

I agree that jealousy is something to avoid like the plague, but to have every female character act jealous was too much. So, once the movie was over, I decided next time to pick the movie. I picked Ratatouille.

No one gets jealous in that one.

Am I being unreasonable? Is there more to value in the movie Peter Pan that I'm being blind to?  Help me understand!

Just let it go

As a parent of young children, I find myself obsessed with their minds. Are they being challenged enough? Are they being sheltered enough? Am I harming them? And even those rare moments where I have the hubris to believe that I am the GREATEST PARENT EVER! Usually, those moments are quickly followed by the feeling that I'm the WORST PARENT EVER! Ah, such is life as a mom.

Something happened this morning that helped me see that I need to relax just a little bit.

LittleMan: [Reading a Kindergarten Open Court book called "At The Zoo" aloud.]

Me: [Listening to LittleMan but seeing an opportunity to challenge him.]

LittleMan: "What are you doing, Mom?"

Me: "I thought we could practice some of your Challenge Words."

LittleMan: "Okay."

I write words like "the", "an", "here", "if", "see", and other two to three-letter words. After about the 10th one...

LittleMan: "How many words are there?"

Me: "A lot. These are just some of the two to three-letter words, hon. There are also four, five all the way up to 10 or even 15-letter words."

LittleMan: [Looking at me with a mixture of awe and disbelief.]

Me: [I write the word "Exclamation".]

LittleMan: "Ex - ca - l - awe - mmm... This is a hard one."

Me: "Well, I didn't think you would try to read it. Good job! It is 'Exclamation'."

LittleMan: [Staring at the word]

Me: "It means to EXCLAIM or SHOUT. Like 'OUCH!' or 'BANG!' or 'STOP!'."

LittleMan: [Looking at me in that same expression]

I smile at him, and leave the table to get changed.

LittleMan comes into my bedroom where My Mukor and I are chatting before Mukor goes to work.

LittleMan: [Holds up the paper where the word "Exclamation" is written. Next to it is the word "Wow".]

I show the paper to My Mukor, but I'm thinking to myself, "Did LittleMan really understand the definition of Exclamation that quickly?" My thoughts are immediately shot down when I hear LittleMan say to My Mukor, "It is 'woe'."

Me: "No, that is w-o-e. You spelled 'wow'. Remember the rule about the long vowel sound if the word ends with 'e'?"

LittleMan: [Looking at the paper]

Me: "See, you spelled the word 'woe'. That means to feel sadness."

LittleMan: "No, it is what you say to a horse."

I took a deep breath and let it go. You see, I was beginning to think that my son was a genius for thinking of the word "Whoa!" which is an example of the "Exclamation" definition I gave. Did he write that because of my definition, or was it coincidence? It is this kind of obsessing that causes me to question whether or not I'm fit as a parent...

And why I can never home-school my children.

Of not-so-sound mind

Sickness Update: Yup, still sick. Sigh. It isn't even like a real sickness where I can juice the pity train or stay in bed for hours on end. Instead, it feels like I have a pillow jammed up my sinuses, and it is playing havoc with my ear canal, sinuses, and throat. I have a cold. And it sucks.

Thanks to all of you for your well wishes. I'm in pretty great spirits considering. I'm still able to take my kids to and from school, I can still help with homework, and I can still push the button on the dishwasher. Life is manageable. I just wish I could taste my food!

Anyway, I'm feeling a little guilty about going over to a friend's house for a playdate today. I was given permission to come over in my goopy state, but I believe if I were truly a selfless person, I would have declined the invitation. I was almost that person. Almost. I got as far as asking if my son could go over without me. I asked LittleMan if that was cool. I had everything lined up... but at the last second I couldn't bring myself to leave him in a home I had never checked out personally before.

Oh sure, I asked all of the obvious questions of the seemingly normal mom: do you have any guns, do you have any ferocious beasts, do you have any illegal drugs, or hypodermic needles lying around? I kid you not. I asked these questions of her verbatim. She laughed at me, and I was laughing at myself - but I still felt better. I don't know what I would expect from someone who actually would say "Yes" to any of these questions.  Would they say yes? Would an obvious LIAR button appear on their forehead if they didn't? Whatever. I asked the stupid questions, and infected a bunch of children with my germs anyway.

So, in order to make myself feel better, I infected small children.

Please send all complaints to my mother, for she raised me.

Halloween Aftermath

Halloween is a happily celebrated holiday for our family - as is evidenced by our front lawn. Every year I go to the local cheap-but-nice-decorations store to buy yet another thing to litter my home with. This year I bought a string of gleeful ghosts that make it only 1/2 way up our walkway. Next year, I'm certain I'll buy the other half.

I blame the children for this unnecessary expense. My husband and I were happily sitting in our homes on this fateful day for 8 years. We may have carved a pumpkin or two during that time, but that was just to compete in the ??-annual pumpkin carving contest AllThingsBD's family was hosting. I would buy some cheap-o candy to hand out that would later be seen in Grandma's crystal bowl for the next century.

Now I have it all: Milky Way, Snickers Bar, Smarties, M&M Packs, GumBlow, Skittles, Reece's, Hersheys, etc. And, like last year, I bought way too much candy for the few kids that actually come to our house for trick-or-treating. We have two mixing bowls worth of candy left over.

My kids are over the moon about this. In all likelihood this extra candy will end up in their buckets to prevent My Mukor and I from eating it all (especailly the Reece's Peanut Butter Cups... hmm... peanut butter...).

Anyway, I know the children are to blame, but I love it! LittleMan was a black Power Ranger, and BoopaLoop was "SuperGirl Man".  You can't buy this kind of entertainment and joy! My Mukor was Aragorn from LotR, and I was sick mommy in pajamas. I stayed home to hand out candy and spread my disease to the children. *Cough* If your child is sick, I apologize profusely... Want some candy?

Free-Enterprise Friday

(Continuing the sharing of my failed and successful experiences at getting a new product created.)

You know when you are at a restaurant and can't decide between the steak or the pasta, so you ask the person you are with, "Which one should I have?" They suggest one, and suddenly, the other one looks irresistible. Well, that is exactly how I felt when those I trusted told me that my Pick Up Palz idea was the idea I had to explore further. There were so many rejected ideas I had that I thought were so much more relevant and just plain cooler than this one! But this was the idea that had other people excited, so I knew I was on to something special.

The funny thing is you can immediately tell when a new product idea generates excitement in others versus apathy. But, it can be a subtle difference. Sure, you could have an idea that other people hear and say, "That's a terrible idea." But, that's not the most likely scenario. Here are a couple of conversations I had that illustrate the difference really well.

Apathetic audience:

Me - "So, I have this idea for a [insert new idea here]. I wanted to know your honest opinion of that."

Trusted Person - "Wow, that sounds like an interesting idea." After some thought, "How would you manufacture that?"

Excited audience:

Me - "So, I have this idea for a [insert new idea here]. I wanted to know your honest opinion of that."

Trusted Person - "Wow, that sounds like an interesting idea. You could do this with it or that. And, you could try this! OR better yet, you could do something like this!! How would you manufacture that?"

You can see the difference in the way they talk about the product. Do they try to change it to make it suit their needs? If so, pay attention. This is where you are hearing the possible flaws and uses of your product.

But, I knew I had a great idea when the majority of people I talked to could see themselves using it. Once I realized I had my idea, I had to look into the practicality of getting it created. In other words, how much would it cost to make. ooo. fun.

Cash or Trophies

I entered into a tennis tournament on Labor Day weekend a couple of months back, and I nearly killed myself playing in it. I'm not an outstanding player, but I play often enough to be considered competent. Over the last 5 years, I've been playing mostly doubles with a smattering of singles tennis thrown in. For those of you unfamiliar with tennis, the only important thing to note is that singles requires a lot more fitness than doubles does.

I signed up for the tournament a level lower than I normally play since I was going to try my hand at singles tennis. I mean, the ladies on TV make it look so easy! I pay my $35 USTA tournament fee, and eagerly await the day to play. Since I'm playing a level lower than my skill, I figured I'd win a match or two, but poop out from fatigue after that.

About 2 weeks after signing up for the tournament, I received an e-mail from the tournament director informing me that since there were not enough ladies signed up for the level I was at, they were going to bump me UP a level! So, now I will be playing at my skill level, but it will be singles rather than doubles. After the shock wore off, I decided that I would go out in a blaze of exhaustion that first match. Oh well.

To make a long story shorter, I ended up winning the tournament. Don't ask me how. I didn't think I was physically capable of it, but I surprised myself. The tournament director handed me an envelope and said congratulations. Now, in the past when I've placed in a tennis tournament, I received a generic trophy. I'm not a professional tennis player, so I wouldn't receive cash. LittleMan thinks I'm an athetic GOD since I have all of these trophies from tennis on our mantle. Okay, there are only 4 trophies, but still!

When I arrived home after winning the tournament, LittleMan ran up and asked me how I did.

Me - "I won!"

LittleMan - "Oh, wow! Where is your trophy?"

Me - "Uh, they gave me a check for $75."

LittleMan - [Staring at the check.]

Me - [Watching him stare at the check.]

LittleMan - "You didn't get a trophy? I thought you won."

Me - [Watching LittleMan walk away.]

How sad is it that I wished I had received a trophy too?

I ordered a canvas tennis bag online. It has a beautiful tennis racket embroidered on the front with the following words - "Singles Tennis Winner - Tiffany". How awesome am I?

DirectTV, TiVo, and other mysteries of electronics

I remember when I first saw TiVo in action. I don't remember which house I saw it in, but I vividly recall my astonishment at seeing live TV paused! It was like magic. Finally, we as consumers could control the TV show to allow us more time to use the bathroom!! (I'm ashamed to admit that there were several times in my past where I was sitting on the porcelain throne, yelling at my Mukor to tell me what was going on the TV show while my Mukor was trying to relay the pertinent plot information to me in conjuction with keeping track of said show so he wouldn't miss anything important. Ah, the good 'ole days.)

We've have had TiVo for some time now. As soon as I saw that I could pause live TV, I needed to have this electronic wonder in my home. Now, we can record all of our children's favorite shows and watch them when we want to. When my kids are done with homework, they can watch a pre-recorded program that I have already approved for their young minds.  (A personal favorite is "Between The Lions", especially since LittleMan is beginning to read.)

With the advent of High-Definition television, our TiVo is showing signs of age. Mukor called DirectTV and requested an upgraded DVR (or Digital Video Recorder, which is what TiVo apparently is). Yesterday, a bright, young man came into our home to switch out our aged TiVo to replace it with a new fandangled DirectTV DVR. Four hours later, the man leaves, and I'm holding this new remote that looks like it has enough buttons to control my children. (MUTE!  I'm pressing MUTE!!)

As I try to remember the 40 THOUSAND television shows we watch on a semi-regular basis, AllThingsBD notices that we are only receiving the High-Definition channels. Well, she's right. Something was wrong, and we will be receiving another bright, young man from DirectTV within 48 hours.

I only hope I'm able to record America's Next Top Model...

Tennis - Life - REALITY

First, I want you all to know that my gas tank is at the 1/2 way point, and I have already made plans to fill it up to the top (not just $10, Don - though I wish it only cost that much to fill 1/2 a tank) before I head out to my tennis match tomorrow.

Yes, I play tennis. No, I'm not a pro or even a semi-pro. Yes, I must be a spoiled brat that I can actually go play tennis for 2 hours 3-days a week in the beautiful Californian sunshine. No, I don't feel the least bit guilty about that.

Okay, that's not true, I feel a little guilty about that. After all, I could be doing blogging, reading, thinking my own thoughts dishes, laundry, dusting, vacuuming, etc. etc. etc. But, I just supress those unwanted, dark, MADDENING, responsible thoughts and blithely go play tennis. Don't ask what happens when someone pulls at that thread by asking about the state of my home.

As I was standing on the tennis court today thinking about the beautiful sunshine, the crisp air cooling me off, and the competitive juices surging through me (did I mention the water cooler on the sidelines? Yeah, they have that too.), I was high on life. It felt great to be alive!

...

Until I missed my overhead, and choked the following return. Boy oh boy how reality loves to send us crashing down to earth. Why am I as good as Steffi Graf in my head, but I play like that blonde girl from the movie Fletch?

Update on GAS

Update on my gas tank: It is happily full. We were going with my mom to church (and we were late) when I remembered the horror of two nights ago.

Me: "Mom, you remember when I told you that I was riding E the last 4 miles to your house?"

My Mom: Dawning realization, "Oh... yeah."

My mom hate, haTES, HATES to be late anywhere.  I know that Mama DB feels the same way, but she has a good excuse. I think my mom hates being late because she is a very reliable person.

So, now I'm anxious about the empty gas tank and the fact that my mom will arrive late to church. With two kids in tow, I have resigned myself to the fact that it is 50/50 whether we'll arrive on time. My mom was very gracious though.  She told me not to worry about it.

My Mom: "Honey, this kind of thing doesn't bother me. This is out of our control."

Thanks, Mom! But, now we had the other problem of getting the vapor-gas-tank to a station without forcing two well-dressed ladies to push it.

You know what my mother said? She told me that most gas tanks register BELOW THE E before being out of gas!! Here I though it was my dad who told me that, but it was my mother who lead me astray all those years ago. So, AllThingsBD you know who to really blame now. (What was the password again?)

I'm beginning to think my mother was right since we made it another 5 miles to the gas station on the way to church. No problem. So thank you all for your concern and advice. I fully plan to pay attention to my gas gauge from here on out!

E is for Empty

I have grown to dislike the letter "E". It wasn't the 40-THOUSAND times my children have sung the alphabet song that fostered this dislike. Actually, I barely tolerate all letters equally for that. No, my dislike grew about 4 miles away from my mother's house.

It was at that time that I realized my gas gauge was reading E.

I don't know why I didn't notice the annoying yellow light that had been well-lit for the last ~10 miles. I was too busy listening to Imogen Heap, perhaps. Or, my vision had been desensitized from the light coming from the dashboard. I don't know. All I know is that when I finally noticed the perfectly horizontal pointer aimed at E, I panicked.

All Things BD is probably shaking her head at me right now. You see, when we used to commute together to college, there was an out-of-gas incident that I will never live down. I have sworn her to secrecy (and, I swear my dad told me that the tank wasn't empty until the pointer was below the E).

Anyway, back to my panic. I had passed the last gas station about 4 miles back, and I didn't know how much gas I really had left. I wish gas tanks were reliable enough to show you how much distance you have left rather than this subjective pointer-thing. (It is on E. Do I have 10 miles or 1 mile? Do I have 10 feet?!)

I decided the best option was to just forge ahead and not look at the gas gauge. No matter how tempted I was, I was NOT going to give in and look at the gauge. I mean, there was nothing I could do, right? So... I looked down at the gauge again, and I swear the color of the light went from bright, happy yellow to a more doomed looking orange-yellow.

I kicked myself for not noticing the light earlier or at the very least for not filling up with gas before taking off for our 3-hour trip. "A three-hour tour..." Sorry. But you know thoughts like that were going through my head at 10 PM at night with two children blissfully unaware of the potential dilemma we may be in. Fortunately they were asleep.

It is moments like this that I regret not knowing more about cars. I turned off the radio thinking that was using less gas, but then I remembered that the radio probably used the battery. I turned off the A/C and relied on the night air to keep my kids from overheating... but that uses the battery too. But, I felt like I was using less gas. That counts!

I did not exceed 30 MPH those last 4 miles to my mom's house, but the speed limit there fluctuated between 45-25, so at times I was speeding. I didn't want to alter speed at all. I coasted when I could, and I tried not to push the gas pedal at all. In spite of my self-sabotage Against all odds, I arrived safely to my mom's.

Now, I need to get to a gas station.

The closest one is about 5 miles away.

Don't worry, I have a backup plan. Anyone want to over-night some gas to me?

Free-Enterprise Friday

As promised, every Friday I will share with you how I messed up, succeeded, flailed, failed, and triumphed to reach my goal as a Mom Entrepreneur.

My goal was simple. I wanted to create something, have it made, and be able to use it to solve my specific problem. I didn't go into this venture expecting riches, accolades, or reknown. Although, don't get me wrong. If those things should happen, I wouldn't shove them away. But I wasn't motivated by those things. I just had a need that I wanted filled. If I had to make it myself to get it, then so be it.

Sometimes the best ideas come from necessity (I think I read that somewhere from some guy). Anyway, the place to start is with what you know and what you know is lacking. Once you think you have hit upon an idea, share it with a couple of people you trust will give you the hard truth. Not someone who enjoys ripping you up, but a trusted friend who will lovingly point out where you might have erred and succeeded.

The first idea I had was rejected by the two people I trust more than anyone - my mother and my husband. It was hard to hear the truth about my original idea: it would be too expensive to make and therefore too expensive to buy. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.  Don't worry about cost, practicality or logistics of getting your idea made. Just let your mind open to the possibilities first. For those familiar with the concept, this is the "brainstorming" stage. Focus in on what you know and begin brainstorming ideas.

You see, it was because of my first failure that I was able to come up with my second and third failed ideas that lead me to the successful forth idea.

Not a friend to the environment

My children go to school. My children go to Sunday school. My children generate so much paper stuff that I have three bins dedicated to trying to contain it! I have graded school work.  I have completed craft items - most of which have unidentifiable other stuff falling from it. I have journals and workbooks and finger paintings.

I bought a schoolwork box to keep those items that hold a special place in my heart for the future.  The future of what?! When my son and daughter are 18 years old and looking at me from underneath this ever-growing pile of paperwork, asking why I saved the three scribbles written in magic marker (which ripped a hole in the paper) because it was the first time they used something other than a crayon?! Are you kidding me?!

I have tried to cull as much of this as I could. But as moms can probably related to, I am afraid of throwing away that one piece of paper that will hold some kind of emotional significance later, and I will deeply, DEEPLY regret tossing it out with the 11x14 paper with sand glued on it.  You know what I mean.

So, I've come up with a solution that allows me to breathe again, and it has deepened the relationships within our family. I mail all precious-yet-trashable masterpieces to every relative I can think of who might appreciate them. How awesome am I?

Favorite Beverage

Diet Pepsi is my beverage of choice. I recognize that there are more delicious drinking options out there, but my taste buds have acquired a taste for Diet Pepsi. I blame my mother. Back in the mid-80s, my mother stopped buying Coke in order to lose some weight. In a rare form of family solidarity (when it comes to food - that is), we all decided to support Mom by no longer demanding she buy Coke.

At the time, I was a growing teenager, so I made due with milk and juice. My mother, however, needed the extra caffeine that Coke provided. Plus, I think she just missed the soothing fizz of a carbonated beverage. So, she went to the grocery store to find the latest in caffeinated, fizzy, yet low calorie beverage. She discovered Tab. And I'm not even certain it was caffeinated then.

Now, I'm not one to knock the power that is Tab. It got my mom through a very tough time of Coke-withdrawal. But I seriously believe that my taste buds started to give out when I forced myself to try Tab. In my defense I believed my mother when she said that the drink tasted better than Coke. Maybe to her it did... but I seriously doubt it. It wasn't soon after that she discovered Pepsi-One.

I was in love with Pepsi-One. It was the first drink to taste something like a regular soda without being high in calorie. Back then the cola companies were using saccharine or something really unhealthy... as opposed to the drinks now which are just somewhat unhealthy.

Anyway, all this talk of taste is subjective since by the time Pepsi-One came around my taste buds had already been slowly chipped away from drinking Tab. For all I know, Pepsi-One tasted like dung, but compared to Tab - WOOWEE it was good.

Pepsi Corp developed Diet Pepsi and the rest is history. One of my favorite memories regarding Diet Pepsi (the fact that I have a memory around a beverage should be cause for concern, I'm sure) is when I went to Cheerleading Camp (that's another story), and I was invited to a party. We were all college students, but very few of us were of drinking age. I bought a 6-pack of Diet Pepsi, brought it to the party, and had a blast! I loved seeing the reactions of my friends when I told them that I didn't want a Bud since I had my Diet Pepsi.

Oh, beloved Diet Pepsi, what great times we've had.

Sigh...

Imaginary play

After returning home from a busy day filled with school, a playdate and swim classes, LittleMan, BoopaLoop and I escaped from eachother each decided to do our own thing. About 5 minutes into my blogging housework, LittleMan ran over with a huge MegaBlock/Lego monstrosity that vaguely resembled a large monstrosity rocket ship.  We then had this conversation:

LittleMan: "Look mom! It is a spaceship."

Me: "Wow! It is really big."

LittleMan: "Yeah! Flip it over!"

Me: [Flipping it over] "Oh look. It has huge holes underneath."

LittleMan: "Yeah."

Me: "You know what that can be used for? Out in outer space there might be a little spaceship in trouble, and the big spaceship can fly over the little one and suck it up in these holes. Then after depressurizing, the people on the big ship can repair whatever is wrong with the little ship."

LittleMan: [Looks far off in the distance.]

Now, I will grant you that half way through my explanation of what the big holes on the bottom of the ship were for, I probably lost my son (and most of my readership).  I certainly lost him with the word "depressurizing". However, my family has given this far-away look my son gets on his face the apt name "downloading". You see LittleMan has this uncanny ability to look like he is not paying the least bit of attention to what you are saying, but he is in fact storing the data for later use. Hence, the term downloading. I wasn't certain he was downloading at this time. After reading this conversation, I'm certain you could understand why it is he would tune me out. But then this happened...

LittleMan: [Returns his attention back to me, he flips the spaceship back over / top up] "Mom, see these holes?"

He is pointing to the holes that are on the top of the MegaBlock Lego-things.

Me: "Yes."

LittleMan: "This is where the water comes out to put out the fire on the little spaceship."

Me: "Oh. Well that's a good idea, but there isn't any oxygen in space."

Imagine a detailed description of what oxygen is, what it is we breathe, karate (just because it is cool), fire, and space.

Me: Summing up, "...so you see there is no oxygen in space."

LittleMan: "We can pretend there is."

Me: "True."

BoopaLoop: "Look at what I made."

BoopaLoop is holding a long strand of 2x2 MegaBlock Lego-things put together to form a very unstable yet functional staircase.

Me: "Wow, that's cool."

BoopaLoop: [Sets the staircase on the seat next to me.]

I then use my two fingers to form the universally understood walking man to climb the staircase. I do this while singing "Mr. Sandman".  Don't ask me why that song, but it turns out to be a very good choice.

Me: "Mr. Sandman bring me a dream.

Boom boom boom

Make him the cutest that I've ever seen.

Boom boom boom

AAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH"

Because, Mr. Finger-Walking-Man naturally fell to his death after reaching the top of the staircase. My daughter looked at me with an unreadable expression and blinked twice while my son was laughing uncontrollably. I'll be paying for her therapy later.

Fun Quiz

Thanks to All Things BD and Mama DB I was curious to see my results.  I would definitely say this is how I see myself, but I'm curious to know whether or not this is how I'm perceived.

Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz...

You Are a Katharine!

 

 

You are a Katharine -- "I am happy and open to new things"

 

Katharines are energetic, lively, and optimistic. They want to contribute to the world.

 

 

 

How to Get Along with Me   

• * Give me companionship, affection, and freedom.   
• * Engage with me in stimulating conversation and laughter.   
• * Appreciate my grand visions and listen to my stories.   
• * Don't try to change my style. Accept me the way I am.   
• * Be responsible for youself. I dislike clingy or needy people.   
• * Don't tell me what to do.

 

 

What I Like About Being a Katharine   

• * being optimistic and not letting life's troubles get me down   
• * being spontaneous and free-spirited   
• * being outspoken and outrageous. It's part of the fun.   
• * being generous and trying to make the world a better place   
• * having the guts to take risks and to try exciting adventures   
• * having such varied interests and abilities

 

 

What's Hard About Being a Katharine   

• * not having enough time to do all the things I want   
• * not completing things I start   
• * not being able to profit from the benefits that come from specializing; not making a commitment to a career   
• * having a tendency to be ungrounded; getting lost in plans or fantasies   
• * feeling confined when I'm in a one-to-one relationship

 

 

Katharines as Children Often

• * are action oriented and adventuresome  
• * drum up excitement   
• * prefer being with other children to being alone   
• * finesse their way around adults   
• * dream of the freedom they'll have when they grow up

 

 

Katharines as Parents   

• * are often enthusiastic and generous   
• * want their children to be exposed to many adventures in life   
• * may be too busy with their own activities to be attentive

Take Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz at HelloQuizzy

Vacation Blues...

I have been away from my kids and hubby for 8 days now, and it has been the longest I've been away. I miss them terribly, but I'm feeling pretty maudlin about it all. I will be leaving my best friend (sister-in-law), my brother and my two nieces here in Texas tomorrow morning, and I will miss them terribly too. This usually happens to me at the end of a lovely vacation.  I've loved my time away, but I miss my family, so I'm usually stuck in this emotional limbo of feeling neither excited or depressed. It isn't as if I'm feeling nothing. I'm feeling both equally. It is a little exhausting, stressful, and exciting-depressing.

So tomorrow in the morning I will bid adieu to my beloved family in Texas, and run into the (hopefully) open arms of my children and hubby. It has been a wonderful vacation. I'm happy-sad to see it end.

Free-Enterprise Friday

I am going to dedicate Fridays posts to sharing little tid-bits of amature-business wisdom with the two people who asked masses. This will not be a post advertising my specific company. You can always read my company blog for that thrilling information. However, if you are thinking of inventing a new product, I can share with you exactly how NOT to do it I did it. Hopefully by reading this, you will see something that I have missed, or get inspired to create that product you have been obsessing about for a while. So starting next week, I'll begin with the beginning!

Insanly desperate or Desperately insane?

I can't figure out how to keep my socks from disappearing.  I know about dryers, and their conspiracy to horde all socks for some kind of lint-cleaning-convention, but what is my excuse for losing my socks in other locations? Arguably, my underpants are smaller than my socks, so I should be losing them left and right.  Right? Yet, somehow I'm only losing my socks!  I'm losing them in the living room; I'm losing them in the bedroom; I'm losing them in the KITCHEN for crying out loud.  Seriously, what is the deal?!

I'm tried of it, I tell you! I have had enough!! I am sick of putting up with wearing mismatched socks that are two halves of my favorites pairs! I think I am going insane.

please. please. please little sock fairy. bring me back my socks.

I was young (I needed the money...)

One of my nieces is watching that painful-yet-laughable cartoon "Dungeon And Dragons". You remember - the 1980's cartoon featuring annoying high school kids sucked into a fantasy vortex (naturally). Okay, you probably don't remember, but it was not good. The show lasted one season, if that. I LOVED it as a kid, but I knew it was hopelessly bad. Now, my niece loves it. I don't have the heart to tell her that it. is. a. bad. show. I can't do that to her.

I recently watched a couple of my favorite childhood movies only to discover how really bad they are, and I am just not the same. It is like learning that the Easter Bunny isn't real again. Actually, one of the movies is just bad, but the other is so bad that it is actually kind of entertaining, which salvages my childhood memory a little.

The first movie that is just plain bad is "Fame". The scene I remember loving is the one where Debbie Allen stomps her dancing-stick-thing on the dance floor and says something like, "...and right here is where you'll pain and sweat."  Well guess what?  That's not in the movie!  Uh-uh - that line is from the TV show (which I also loved, by the way). After watching "Fame", I realized that this movie was just a launching pad for the TV show. There is no other excuse for all of the dangling story lines and unfinished business. The teenage actress who does a topless shoot? Seemingly unfazed afterwards. The teenage prodigal pianist? Never shares his incredible music. The awkward girl? Experiments with drugs but... nothing. Every single storyline goes nowhere! UGH! It is BAD.

The second movie that is bad but entertaining in a hilarious way is "Xanadu". Wow, this is wildly horrible! The songs are hit and miss, the acting is a little painful to watch, but it has great sequences involving Gene Miller (poor guy) and Olivia-Newton John doing her singing thing. Throw in some roller skates and romantic chemistry, and you have yourself an entertaining movie.

I really don't think I should have rewatched these movies. When I saw that "Fame" or "Xanadu" were on the TV Guide List, I would get all giddy and remember how fond I was of them.  Now, that memory is tainted, and a piece of my childhood innocence is lost... or maybe I have finally developed some good taste.

In any case, I am not rewatching the TV show "Fame".

Weather - you like it or not

When I was 7 years old, my famiy moved from Massachusettes to Southern California. I remember mourning the loss of snow - by whining and insisting that Christmas was ruined with NO SNOW. WWAAAAHHHHHHHH!  I am certain it was a lovely trip for my parents - all 4 days of it.  We moved during the summer, and my sour mood quickly brightened when I realized the sun was always shining. AND I didn't have to wear a jacket EVER.

As I mentioned in my earlier blogs, I'm visiting All Things BD's family in Texas.  Today, it has been hot, sweltering, cold, rainy, WHO DUMPED BUCKETS OF WATER ON US, and thunderstorms. I have to say that Texas keeps you on your toes. I feel a little like my body is warping from the pressure changes.

Seeing the dark, ominious clouds move towards us at a high speed was an awesome sight to behold, I must say.  In Southern California, that morning you could have rain clouds with the weatherman saying that the chance of rain is 100%, and you have this huge, fat cloud over your head just sitting there.  48 hours later that cloud decides to drop its rain finally, and weathermen will say, "See?!".

I have to say I like that Texas weather changes so quickly.  As they say in Texas, if you don't like the weather, don't worry it will change in a few minutes.

However, I don't think I could take planning my tennis matches in this kind of chaos.

Birthdays and such

It is the end of my birthday-day, and my belly is full. Just when I thought life couldn't get any better, All Things BD hands me a bag full of goodness. Inside are a couple of frightening cards, a very touching friendship card, and a couple of the BEST cards ever from my nieces. Nothing says Happy Birthday quite like inspired, multi-colored kittens with wings and the words "Best Drawing Award". Awesome.

I also happened to score a great book and a couple of gift cards, which if you know me, know that I absolutely LOVE gift cards because I forget about them until I happen to be in that store reaching for my credit card to see that - NO! I don't have to pay! There is a handy-dandy little gift card right there!! I kid you not. My friends mock the fact that I salivate over gift cards but then forget them completely until random chance allows me to use them.

I can't help it. It is like finding cash in your pocket, or a chocolate bar you forgot you hid, or an old pair of jeans you forgot your owned. You may think I am kidding, but I really, REALLY am not. I'm that much of a freak. I genuinely forget I had a favorite pair of jeans (that I actually remembered to put it away) until I run out of clean jeans and rediscover them.

Anyway, Happy Birthday to me. I'm 21 for the 16th year, and I don't look a day over 40. And, I get to surprise myself with Starbucks and ITunes gift cards later. I am a happy girl.

Welcome to Blogger!

I am in Austin, TX visiting All Things BD, and I have finally decided to no longer be listed as Anonymous Tiffany Here. So here I am on Blogger, and I love it. Most of my posts will be about my children, and the properties of my children, and the anger or joy I have because of my children with a smattering of stories about marriage, failed cooking, tennis, starting a new business (Pick Up Palz), and other stuff.  Thanks to All Things BD and Mama DB for getting me on Blogger finally. I'm going to have fun connecting with crazy ladies like us.

Also, if you would like to see updates about my company, you can visit the company blog at PickUpPalz.blogspot.com. Thanks!

Attempts at learning

BoopaLoop has pre-school three days a week for 3 hours. On the other two days, she hangs out with me. We do some errands. We do some cleaning. We do some playing. We rarely do some teaching.

She is too similar to me in personality, so we get too easily distracted with being silly to dedicate a lot of time to serious learning. However, that does not mean I don't make the odd attempt here or there. Today was such an attempt.

I pulled out an old pre-school book that once belong to LittleMan.

Me - "Okay honey, this is a maze. Do you know what a maze is?"

BoopaLoop - Shakes her head no.

Me - "Okay, you need to find a way to get from the rabbit to the carrot at the end."

BoopaLoop - Starts drawing a straight line from the rabbit to the carrot going through all the walls.

Me - "Yeah, that's the idea, but you have to stay in the walls."

BoopaLoop - Stops drawing to listen to me.

Me - "See the walls? You have to stay in the walls and find a way to the carrot."

BoopaLoop - Starts drawing a straight line to the carrot again - through the walls.

Me - "Honey..."

BoopaLoop - Interrupts me, "I'm flying to the carrot."

Laughter

End Lesson

Tennis Tomorrow

I have a tennis match tomorrow, so I'll drink lots of fluids and gets lots of rest...

Is it a coinsidence that this is the same prescription for when you are ill?

The Usual Suspects

For those of you unfamiliar with one of the best movies ever, The Usual Suspects, I suggest you go rent it right now, and read this blog afterwards. Otherwise, this blog will mean nothing to you.

Today BoopaLoop and I were singing silly songs like, "My daughter has a turnip head - oooooohh turrrrrrrrrrnip head." Well, it was my daughter's turn to come up with a silly song, so she began:

"My mommy has a bunch of letters... and aaaaaaaa cup... aaaaannnnnddddd... aaaaaa... uh..."

What is she talking about? Letters? Cup?! Where is she getting these references? As she is struggling to come up with other nouns for her song, I notice that she is paying close attention to my shirt. I am wearing an Ireland shirt All Things BD bought me. My daughter was trying to make sense of the LETTERS that spell "Ireland" and various Irish symbols on my shirt - like a mug or CUP of ale. I gave her a hug and told her she did a great silly song, but then it struck me...

BoopaLoop is Kyser Soze.

Dead Zone

Whoa... what happened there?!

(cricket noises)

I haven't posted for a over a week, and that is not like me. I am gonna try to come up with a litany of excuses.

First, I was in Austin, TX from the 10th - 14th. Granted, I had Internet access, but All Things BD has a wonderous chaise and a half that reduced my brain to mush. For those of you inexperienced in art of the chaise, you are missing out. Call your friends and find one who owns a chaise chair, invite yourself over, and find a way to get your booty into it. It will change your world for the better.

Second, it was my birthday, and I turned 36... I think.  Let me count: 1971-2007... uh... 30, 31, 32, 33... yup, 36! Automatically, I should be forgiven anything for that fact alone.

Third, I returned home to my beautiful, sweet family (they look better when you have been away a while), but I had to leave half of my family back in Austin. My spirit mourned, and I was not in the best place these last three days.

Uh... that's it. So please forgive my lapse in writing. Cause if you don't... well, there is not really anything you can do about it.

Delaying tactics

For those of you with young children, you know that getting the children to go to sleep at night can be an event all on its own. Oh sure, you have read the books about keeping night-time to a regular schedule. You have gotten their pajamas on, you have read the books, brushed their teeth, said prayers with them, and maybe even gave them a bath or sang a song with them, but still the children have to go potty again or ask for a refill on their water cups.

LittleMan hit upon a most brilliant sleep-delay tactic last night with my Mukor. Our boy asked his father if God was dead. Being an intellectual and Christian, my Mukor was taken aback by the question. Not because it was offensive (oh, please) or unfounded, but because my Mukor couldn't believe LittleMan would ask such an insightful question.

A 1/2 hour later, my Mukor emerged from the kids' room smiling to himself. He then explained to me that eventhough he knew LittleMan had asked a question to delay sleep, the nature of the question gave my Mukor a glimpse of what the future might hold. Our children will challenge our beliefs, ask us whys and hows and cans, and my Mukor is really looking forward to these discussions.

My Mukor walked right into the sleep delay trap my son laid out, and I don't think my Mukor minded getting caught.

I didn't complain. LittleMan was out cold immediately after that.