Saturday, June 27, 2009


Big Kid just stopped me from packing and said, "Mom, I want to tell you sometin'."


"You need to stop sayin' dat word 'vacay' instead of vacation."


"Mostly 'cuz I'm 'fraid little kid doesn't know what you're talkin' 'bout. And I'm 'fraid he won't learn English right."

"Can't I just tell him that vacay is short for vacation? Hey little kid, vacay is short for vacation."

"No, no! Vacay is not a word. Also, it botters me. I don't want to hear you sayin' it any more."

"What about the Vacay dance? What will I call it now?"

"How 'bout da Vacation dance instead?"

"Hmmmm. Let me think about that. Thinking, thinking, thinking...I'm gonna have to go with no. Sorry, it doesn't have the same ring to it."

"Why are you like dis? Why do you do dis to me?"

"'Cuz I'm going on vacay, going on a vacay, woot-woot vacaaaaay, doin' the vacay dance."

"Don't listen to her little kid. If you ignore her, she'll stop."

Friday, June 26, 2009

Thursday, June 25, 2009

More Importantly

I just heard that Farrah Fawcett died today too.

Man, that's sad. It's also sad that her death will be overshadowed by the freak's death.

I thought it was really brave of her to film that documentary about her cancer, and I found it very touching to watch. I will never, ever forget her saying that she will miss the sound and smell of the rain. It made me so sad.

What a crazy day, for two such icons to die.

Michael Jackson Died!!


How crazy. His poor kids, I hope they end up leading somewhat normal lives (but I do hope at least one of them writes a book.)

Boys and Girls

Emily calls Big Kid her boyfriend, and has pretty much since she could say the word. Emily will tell anyone who will listen (including strangers) that he is her boyfriend and she has big plans for the future for them.

Last time they were at her house, her mom playfully said, "You two have known each other forever. Maybe one day you'll grow up and get married!" As Emily was swooning over the idea, Big Kid quickly and casually said, "I'm not marrying Em."

"What?!?" demanded Em.

"She's my best friend. You can't marry your friends. You'll always be my friend," he answered simply. "I love you but dat doesn't mean I'm gonna marry you."

"Mom!!! Mom!! He says he isn't going to marry me. Big Kid says he isn't going to marry me!! BIG KID! How could you say this to me?"

"Why are you mad?," asked a genuinely confused Big Kid. "Why is she mad, Aunt Lynda Kay?"

Em's mom regretted bringing it up, told them to worry about it later, and managed to distract them from further drama.

If you ask Big Kid who is girlfriend is, he will emphatically tell you that he does NOT have a girlfriend. He doesn't even count Ahsiya as a girlfriend, although he has admitted that he loves her.

The other day when Em was here spending the night, Big Kid was lying in front of the television set, arms behind his head, one ankle propped up on his bent knee and Emily was playing with the train table directly behind him.

I heard Big Kid say, "Em, how many boyfriends do you got?"

Emily set down the train tracks and straightened up, brushing her hair from her eyes. I could tell she was intrigued and concerned about the question and how to answer.


"Yeah, how many do you got? Boyfriends?" he answered, still watching the t.v.

She tilted her head and went back to putting tracks together, acting aloof. "Just one, really."

"You've got one boyfriend?" he said, kind of laughing as he said it.

She looked over at him defensively, "Just my dad," she said at the exact time he said, "So only me?"

Her face broke out in a wide, relieved grin and she said, "Oh, two then. I forgot to count you. Just you and my dad, I guess."

"You call your dad your boyfriend?"

"Yes, Big Kid," she huffed, "lots of girls do. You're not my only boyfriend."

"Okay." Big Kid said with a shrug of his shoulders.

As she bent back down to assemble more train tracks, I could see that she was positively beaming.

It is so funny to watch the two of them and to see the differences in girls and boys, and that we're pretty much born with those differences.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009


Some of you are way behind in catching up on the last two years of my life (I can't believe it's been over 2 years, and that we missed our 2 year blogoversary) and have admitted to not knowing who Catfish is.

Catfish and I have been friends for 26 years (since we were 4). My dad named her Catfish when we were little because she's all mouth. The real shame in you not knowing who she is, is that it means you are not aware of her bachelorette party celebrations a.k.a. the bald beaver post.

That is required Closet reading, so please catch up pronto.

Happy Stuff

I feel bad for my depressing post and it made me realize that I forgot to share some really good news with you all:


Yay! YAAAAAAAAAAAY! Yay! Yay! Yay!

I swear, my brother's baby and Catfish's baby are my two little shining beacons of hope and happiness lately. I LOVE thinking about new babies. To know that such cuteness and excitement is right around the corner absolutely thrills me.

We all know how I love baby name talk. My brother is going with Ethan, which I love. Catfish is looking for a unique, old fashioned name. She has a fantastic Irish last name that will look good with just about anything. My favorites for her are:


I'm 97% sure she's going to have a girl. I had a dream that she had a baby girl and named her Sunny. It would be more fun for my boys if she had a boy, but it would be so much fun for me if she had a girl.

For boys for her I like:
Alexander (if I have another, it's going to be Alexander Cash or Alexander Atlas--I know Atlas is a little ridiculous, it's a new fixation of mine and luckily, I probably won't be having another)
Elliot (Eli)

I'm pretty much out of boy names honestly.

Okay, your turn. Tell me your favorite names and maybe the closet can name Catfish's baby.

Make it Easy

Is it just me and everyone I know, or is life just super hard lately? I mean, I know it's always hard (relatively speaking), but is it just consistently sucking more and more or am I just becoming more aware of it?

I've actually been very proud about my ability to see the good in all the messed up crap that's been going on. Sure, the job I loved was cut in half but that made me finally grasp the reality of my finances and gave me more time to spend with my kids and get my act together. Sure, the loss in income led to the loss of the house we built but moving forced me to re-prioritize and find happiness in a new home (other than the poop throwing terrorist, I can't put a positive spin on that fucker yet). Sure, my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer but it led to him reclaiming his life and strengthening our family, and I have two best friends who truly empathize with what my family is going through (I wish I could have been as much of a source of strength and comfort to them as they are and will be to me).

Sure, my situation sucks but for being in such a sucky spot, I am really pretty fortunate. I have a nice home, a loving family, true friends, and the ability to make money doing what I love. In all honesty, if you had told me five years ago, in the height of my financial "success", that one day I would be close to broke, but making my living writing, doing photography, and hanging out at home with my kids...I would have laid my head down on my desk and cried with happiness and relief. In a really weird way, I am actually closer to true happiness now than I was when everything was going exactly the way I wanted.

But, GOD DAMN, enough with the tragedy lately. When I really stop to think about everything going on with everyone around me and the helplessness of life, it's just overwhelming. I don't have even a casual acquaintance who isn't dealing with some sort of personal tragedy or nerve wracking stress right now.

You know all those people who say their 30s were the happiest times of their lives??

Catfish and I have come to the conclusion that those people must have had some really sucky-ass 20s. I'll take recreational drugs and a little black dress in a VIP room on South Beach any day of the fucking week over this crap. This being a "real" grown up nonsense is for the birds.

Sometimes I fear that it only gets worse from here, too. Sure, we gain the wisdom to recognize the happy in the little things but mostly because we finally realize how badly the big picture sucks and that it has the potential to suck even more at any given moment.

Depressing post, I know. It's rainy out and little kid locked himself in the bathroom with a can of chocolate frosting early this morning (I really can't say that I even blame him, I wish I could.) Luckily, my happy pills have been working and most of the time I'm doing really well, but today I just feel compelled to announce that life is hard and I know it's really hard for some of you right now too, and I'm sorry about that.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Going Bananas

little kid and I are in a massive battle about bananas.

Whenever we get bananas, he wants to eat them all the first day. No one else wants him to do this. He just brought me banana #3 and I told him no way.

Two time outs and 40 minutes of hysterical crying later, I wish I had just given him the freaking banana. Now I can't let him have it just on principle and I hid the remaining bananas, futher infuriating him. I tried to negotiate that he could have a banana with lunch just so we could move on, but I think he plans on crying right up until lunch.

I banish him to his room and he inchworms out, crying and screaming about bananas all the way.

This is just insane.

Real Quick

I'd also like it if we could bring back the "big hips" look from old movies. Grace, Warbucks' secretary, is 300x sexier than the rails we worship nowadays, and those skirts that showed off the hips and were all twirly at the bottom were awesome.


A lot more of us would look pretty damn good if we could bring this look back. It would be easier than starving ourselves. I look as good as Marilyn in that second picture (if you cover up her head. My ass is even a little smaller...)

Also, let's stop with the fake boobs. I'm tired of feeling like a sack of flab because my breasts don't stick to the front of my chest like two halves of a grapefruit, never moving. I hate that "surgically enhanced" is becoming the new norm. Let's quit that.

I've got tons of work to do because I demanded a whole family vacation before my dad starts chemo, and everyone else agreed (after some insisting from me), so I'm out of here on Sunday for 5 days of innertubing.

It would be extra awesome if we could have the big hips and saggy boobs movement in place by then, so you all get working on that.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Saturday, June 20, 2009


I know I've said it before, but Annie is a kick ass movie.

Singing, choreography, stylish clothing, twirling skirts, acrobatic children, helicopters, kick lines, drunks and villains, --it's a masterpiece.

It was my turn to pick a movie and the boys were bitching about the girliness of Little Mermaid, so I decided on Annie, the only other girly movie I rarely even bother to try to watch.

Carol Burnett is fantastic in this, as is Tim Curry. All the kids are obviously truly talented.

little kid is mildly impressed, he's been busy working on a padlock with a set of keys that he found, but has been keeping up with the story line. Me singing the soundtrack at the top of my lungs gets on his nerves, but whatever.

Big Kid is very concerned about orphavillages. Although I've assured him there's pretty much a 0% chance of him ending up in an orphanage, he has been preoccupied with the thought all movie long. At one point he got teary eyed and said, "You know what I would miss if I was in a orphavillage?"

"What?" I asked, pretty sure the thought of living without me was moving him to tears.


Dorothy, the goldfish that lives in their bathroom.


I've got another song coming up, I just had to take a minute to remind you all how awesome Annie is.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

The next morning

They are fighting. Big Kid is exhausted and a total tyrant. He just told her off for being so bossy, mostly because she refused to draw a rain forest exactly as instructed. She knows nothing about rain forests, he KNOWS about rain forests. I will transcribe his tirade as I'm hearing it, right this very second:

I have a good memory!
Movies I bemember!
Pictures I bemember!
Days I bemember!
Rain Forests I bemember!
I know dese fings. I've seen dem drawn, and when I see dese fings, they aren't drawn like you draw dem. I've watched movies a long time, a lot of movies about rain forests and I bemember all of dem. Now stop being bossy, do it da way I want, or I won't draw wif you so make da toice--draw wif you or not draw wif you? If you make more fings happen, I'll get more frustrated.

I just had to stop typing to get Big Kid's butt back in line. The tirade reminded me of that Christian Bale tantrum that went viral--seriously, Big Kid was ranting like a lunatic. Poor Em. He just complimented the rainbow she drew and all seems well again.

They were playing great together, but Big Kid went to bed near 11:00 p.m. (never happens) and ended up in my bed around 1:00 a.m. He was obviously having bad dreams all night because he kept saying weird shit. At one point he sat upright and yelled, "What in tarnation? Why are you listenin' to her?!?"

It was like being in bed with an epileptic Yosemite Sam, I spent all night rescuing him from straight up flops out of our king sized bed with his head and feet occasionally crashing into my stomach, pubic bone, or head and had to wake him up continuously to tell him he was dreaming and to please chill out.

When Em and little kid ran into the room at 7:30 a.m., Big Kid and I were both like zombies.

She seems to have forgiven his outburst though, and he's moved on from his frustrations with her artistic ability. The two of them together are excellent entertainment for little kid, so most of the annoyingness that would come with having another kid over gets canceled out there.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009


Em's here.

It's going surprisingly well. Her mom came over and waxed my eyebrows for me (Last time, I tried to do it myself after watching her do it with ease, and ended up cutting out chunks of my eyelashes and crying) while the kids watched on, horrified that I would pull out my eyebrows in an attempt to be prettier.

As we gossiped, the kids ran around screaming and before she left, she asked several times if I was sure I wanted to do this. I really wasn't sure I wanted to do this. This is why we only have overnights every few months. The kids always end up being annoying.

So far so good though, everyone is playing nicely. Well, we did find little kid in the closet eating a cookie he had stolen from Em's plate, but that's her fault for not eating all of her cookies right away. And they are a little annoying, but not "Why the hell did I sign up for this?" annoying.

No poop bomb updates as of yet. Someone suggested I get a motion detector sprinkler made for scaring animals away, and this is my favorite idea ever, but it's about $60 and let's face it--if we're going to sneak attack the poop bomber with a high powered stream of water, we'd want video of it. It would be epic, but Mr. Ashley isn't as excited about the idea as I am. It's definitely at the top of my list of solutions.

All right, the kids are being a little annoying right now. They're both playing Wii, and yet still sharing half of one couch with me and being loud and mouth breathing. I'm going to go play with them so they stop interrupting me.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

This Means War

Another fucking poop bomb.



It was in another section of the yard too, and whoever put it there had to come into our yard to do so. That really takes crazy to a whole nother level.

It's 8:00 a.m. and I feel like my whole day is ruined because I'm so angry about this. I have been militant about making sure the dogs are tied to their stakes while they are out and that their lines aren't long enough to reach anyone else's yard.

Mr. Ashley is going to confront the suspect again when he gets home (I think it has to be the neighbor's husband) and now that trespassing is involved, her "sending a message" to the offender is no longer satisfactory.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Life's a Bitch Baby

Big Kid is an emotional wreck. I'm ready to start slipping some Effexor into his juice each morning.

I love that he is so sensitive and intuitive but everything is so serious to him. He is also a complete and total Control Freak and he has such a hard time accepting it when things don't go his way. He just had an emotional breakdown because little kid was running around the house with a closed box of cereal. I told Big Kid that I just didn't really care that much and he cried, "Dat's da problem! I have to do everyfing with little kid! He is always naughty and you don't care."

Uh, no. He is always naughty and I have to choose my battles. Carrying around a closed box of cereal doesn't rate high enough on the Scale of Seriousness to initiate combat over.

Big Kid doesn't get that though. Poor Big Kid the martyr, having to sacrifice his childhood to make sure his little brother grows up to be halfway civilized. Geez.

You know, right after Big Kid was born, once all of the excitement was over and the night time nurse was giving him his first bath in our room, he started crying as she undressed him and she said, "Awwww, life's a bitch, isn't it?"

At the time, it seemed like such a wildly inappropriate thing to say to a newborn and I'm guessing she sensed the "laid back" (or drugged and exhausted) vibe from Mr. Ashley and I because it really seems like a bizarre thing to say to a brand new baby with its brand new parents in the room. She ended up being a total riot and one of the highlights of my hospital stay, but sometimes I wonder if that imprinted itself on Big Kid somehow.

Someone clued him in on life being a bitch first thing and he hasn't forgotten.

(I also secretly believe my reading Steinbeck's East of Eden out loud to him his first two weeks of life made him so smart. What a delightful, first time mom memory that is.)

He got to see his school friends yesterday and he was over the moon with happiness. Until it was over. Then he wept on and off for the rest of the day. He is completely heart sick over Ahsiya and they were like peanut butter and jelly yesterday. When it was time to go he hugged her tight, and as she turned around to talk to her sister, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it and said, "I promise I'll call you," in the sweetest, most sincere voice. The way he grabbed and held her hand, it was obvious he just wasn't done touching her.

He is disgusted over the thought of kissing or any talk of love, but he clearly loves her without even really understanding what's going on in his head and heart.

The other day out of nowhere, he asked, "Do you remember Vivian?"

Vivian? His girlfriend from pre-k who we haven't talked about in a year? "Of course."

"I dest miss her smile. She had a great smile," and he was all misty eyed at recalling it.

Man, oh man. He is so in for it.

No matter how life goes, it will be hard for Big Kid.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Hobos and Heroes

Out of nowhere, Big Kid just walked up to me and said, "You know, if you find someone you don't know sleepin' in your house, it's probably a HOBO."

When he said "hobo" he got up in my face too. I have no idea where he's learning about hobos.

In unrelated news, I suggested to little kid that he could be a super hero for Halloween (he's majorly into super heroes) and he said, "No shoe-er. I be shoe-er."

"What? A Shoer? What's he saying, Big Kid?"

"I fink he said 'store'. Did you say store? Maybe he wants to be a store man."

"Shooooer, Shoooooer, mumum."

"I have no idea what you're say--wait, shooter? Are you saying shooter??"

"Yes! I be shooer! Pow! Pow! Pow" he replied, with a big smile.

I told him no way and now he's all mad and crying and whining about it.

Also, any time I tell him he can start t-ball when he's three, he tells me "Hockey".


Big Kid said he learned this from Franklin. My mom pointed out that he didn't know how to ice skate and he insists that he does know and that he wants to do hockey when he's three.

I haven't told him yet, but that's not happening either.


Kidlandia recently offered to let Big Kid make a map to review here. They described it to me as a map he would make by choosing names of people he knew and using characters to represent them (well, they probably described it better than that, but that's what I took from it). I was picturing something very digital looking and thought the characters would like "avatar-ish" versus cartoonish. Does that make sense outside of my own mind?

I thought it sounded fun and knew he would love it, but didn't envision it as any sort of heirloom or personalized piece of art. Just a fun thing we'd do that they'd print out and send to us.

When we began making our map, I was pleasantly surprised by the graphics. The map layout we chose was really traditional looking and Big Kid loved entering in the names of friends and family. They offer a lot of name spaces too--we have "DJ Lancepuff" as one of our creatures. You can either use the wizard to make this project quick and painless, or you can use the custom panel for more control over the design process. I'll admit, I didn't realize there was a custom panel until after Big Kid and I finished his and he was pretty annoyed at me once he realized it existed. I tried to convince him that we had tried out the beta version and they must not have had that feature, but I'm pretty sure he knows I was lying.

Anyway, Big Kid LOVED making the map. He was happy just to make it, he didn't even realize a physical representation of it would be mailed to us until I explained that part, and then he was super excited since I never let him use the printer to print out his creations.

I was shocked when we received the finished product. I can't even begin to tell you all how cool it turned out. We got the 12" x 18" and it is on thick canvas, the colors are vibrant, and it has a glossy, protective sheen to it. I can't wait to hang it in the play room, it is truly adorable. He included the names of family members, friends, and past loves as well as hobbies (yes, there is a Computerland on his).

Since I can't share his with you (since it is covered in our personal information), I made one for the Closet. HERE IT IS The pink land layout is a little loud for my taste, but so are we, so I went with it.

I think a Kidlandia map would make an awesome new baby gift, it's really a unique idea for a personalized heirloom. It would also be a fun birthday gift for your kids--you could sit down and design it with them and then surprise them with the framed, finished product.

Big Kid loves his, I've had to take it out of its protective tube at least 15 times since receiving it. I'm going to frame it and hang it this week, maybe I'll share a photo of it then so you can get a general idea of how nice the finished product looks.

Friday, June 12, 2009

re: The List

Yeah, that list is way too long.

I did fold and put away all of the laundry, hung some shelves (!) and pictures, and got the kids to help me clean up a bit. That took over an hour.

Then I decided to plan for an imaginary 2011 (10th wedding anniversary) vacation. I like the idea of these overwater bungalows in Panama or these overwater bungalows in Bermuda. I like the overwater bungalow idea.

Then I started thinking maybe we should take the whole family to Costa Rica and now I'm researching that. A jungle adventure with monkeys and zip lines and beaches with my then almost 5 and 8 year old boys sounds like a lot of fun .

Then I was thinking we should do Atlantis in the Bahamas. Mr. Ashley and I visited once while we were on a cruise, and once an awesome boss took my whole company on a cruise and to dinner there, and it is amazing. The kids would love it. But it's sort of like the Disney World of travel...not really travel at all. Nice to have no worries though and I know that we like it and that the boys would love it.

So, that's pretty much what I've conquered so far.

I'm going to extend the list to be a whole weekend sort of list.

To Do

I'm going to attempt to conquer life today. I'm done with my work hours for the week and am hoping to eradicate most of the bigger, never-getting-checked-off-of-the-list bullshit in the hopes of making some progress. I was thinking of the WIWTB (Woman I Want To Be, remember when The Renee and I were on that kick?) and I'm still chasing that bitch down.

I'd much, much rather work.

On the list:
Mail off some checks
Take Murphy out every single hour on the hour and WATCH him pee so he'll quit going inside
Try to fix Mr. Ashley's computer
Work on someone's photo book
Reply to Ashley's Closet email (It's been a while, God only know what's in there)
Vacuum (mopping really needs to be on the list, but the list is long enough)
Organize my calendar (or the scraps of paper and invites that wish they were on the calendar)
Research insurance (I fucking hate shit like this. It just makes no sense to me. I've been holding out in the hopes Mr. Ashley will do it, but I think he has the same plan.)

*edited to add: I've decided to delete the tasks as I do them, so I have a little more incentive.

Almost all stuff that sucks. I do have a product review to do for you all too (really cool) but that isn't boring enough to make the list. I'll get to that later today.

All right, fascinating reading material I've produced here, huh? I'll be back later, hopefully with a good progress report.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Unsafe Environment

I wonder what would happen if I called Child Protective Services on myself? I think little kid is in danger.

He poured clear nail polish in the bath tub yesterday, applied lipstick to his cheeks, and pooped on the floor in his room and this morning (before 8:00 a.m.) he poured a box of cereal onto the kitchen floor and tore up a game of Bunco.

Time outs don't mean shit to him. He got a spanking (yeah, call the cops--please) after the clear nail polish incident and he thought that was funny too. I watch him like a hawk, but the second I have to go to the bathroom or turn my back, he is immediately into stuff.

I understand why mothers eat their young. I'm surprised more two year olds don't get eaten.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009


Big Kid just told me, "You sure look pretty with wet hair."

And he didn't even want anything.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Read This

Unbelievably moving story about a small town girl that conspires to murder her entire family

This one sucked me in, on so many levels. It's also very well written.

Terrorist Negotiations

Mr. Ashley is over there negotiating with the poop-throwing terrorists.

I wrote my landlord an email today asking if the back neighbors seemed like the type to throw bags of crap into someone's yard and she responded that as a matter of fact, the back neighbors called her today to tell her our dog was pooping in her yard and barking so much her neighbor was complaining too.

First off--why not call the landlord the first time you find poop? If for some reason a note in the mailbox or knock on the door was beyond your abilities? This isn't the proper way to let someone know there's a problem.

Second--her fat Cocker Spaniel barks at our dogs. I always have to rush out there when she lets her dog out because I can hear it barking and I know mine will start up soon. Mine do bark in retaliation, and Murphy has barked at her before. But the point is, her dog is barking too. If her neighbor is complaining, her dog is part of the problem. Sorry there didn't used to be dogs here and now there are dogs here, the consequence of that is that when they see each other once every few days, they may attempt communication.

Okay, now Mr. Ashley is back and says that the lady seemed extremely nice and that she says she didn't throw the poop in our yard but she knows who did because it happened to her seven years ago when she first moved here, and she'll tell them to knock it off. She also can't reveal who it is so that Mr. Ashley can speak to them personally. I find a poop bomb the same day you call my landlord to say that you suspect my dog has pooped in your yard, and you are unrelated to the mysterious neighborhood poop bomb terrorist but do have the ability to send him a message from us? Yeah. Okay.

Mr. Ashley says things seem resolved, but I'll still be plotting subtle methods of revenge. Nothing soon, but one day.

Big Kid the Violinist

Today was Big Kid's first violin lesson.

His teacher is a young, pretty violinist with the Philharmonic and Big Kid was impressed the moment he laid eyes on her. His mouth was on overdrive, sharing his musical history, what he's seen at the Phil, his experience from music class, how he knew the bow was made of horsehair, his thoughts on the violin store carrying cellos which are not violins, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. I'm going to have to email her and tell her to feel free to cut him off when his brain starts to bleed out like that, especially since we're paying her by the hour.

I could tell she was delighted and greatly amused. Big Kid was serious and attentive when she spoke, and was super eager to get it all right.

Then we met my mom for lunch, where little kid climbed under the table and tried to peel off old gum to eat, but other than that, it was fun.

I'll be back later with an awesome product review. I got suckered into doing photography again and it went really well, but as usual I'm waiting until the last second to get it finished and now I have photos I must upload.

Poop Bomb Blow Up

The poop bomb thrower has struck again.

It was raining this morning, but I spotted a plastic bag in the yard and just couldn't believe it was what I thought it was, so I walked out there and sure enough--dog crap, not the size of our dogs.

Our dogs haven't been misbehaving at all either. That fat piece of crap behind us starts barking any time it sees my dogs out there, and I rush right out to bring them back in, even though they have every right to be out there. (That stops right now.)

I'm really mad this time and Mr. Ashley says he is going over there with poop bag in hand and asking what the hell is going on when he gets home tonight. This time they didn't even try to throw it so that it would implicate our side neighbors--unless someone walked into my backyard to place a bag of shit under an orange tree, it was thrown from their yard.

I will also now definitely launch at least one cat turd into their pool.


Monday, June 8, 2009

The Cup Nazi

Every night the boys brush their teeth together with Big Kid supervising. Every night little kid comes running into the family room screaming "Bubby won't gib me cup!" and every night Big Kid comes running out behind him yelling that little kid only sucked his toothpaste off of his brush and since he didn't do a proper job brushing, he is undeserving of a cup.

We've tried to tell Big Kid that he's not Lord of the Cups and if little kid isn't doing well with his night time brushing, it's not his problem, and we've also tried to convince little kid to brush his teeth properly so that he'll earn a cup, but it continues to be a nightly occurrence.

It's almost like we need a new Tooth Brushing Supervisor.

Looking forward to bed time.

Monday Links

Big Kid starts violin lessons tomorrow. We rented his violin on Saturday, and it is so cute and little and perfect. I'm looking forward to seeing how lessons go. Mr. Ashley is less than enthused about this whole thing, so Big Kid better love it and sound good soon so that I can prove him wrong.

Other than that, I don't have any other big news or insight to share. little kid may have flushed the metal bar of the toilet paper holder, and that's a big problem. He says he flushed it, but I don't know if he was just sick of us making him search for it or if that's really what happened. Last week the tray for the ice/water on the fridge door was missing but he finally found it and reinstalled it after we complained enough.

I begged for Sims 3 all weekend, finally got it, and can't get it to run on any of our computers. Good times, good times.

This post is clearly going nowhere, here's some internetz to make up for the boringness:

Surviving the World: Some of these crack me up. I think everyone should review lesson #8.
Make Slime: Because you need more things ground into the carpet.
Tropical fruit crepes: Sound pretty freaking good.
Medieval names: In case you want to write a book or name something or are just a history dork.
Radioactive Boyscout: I hope to God neither of my kids ends up being this smart.
Free Classic audio books: Pretty awesome, could be great for long car trips or while cleaning.
Calvin and Hobbes: Thought provoking and so true.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Bird Brains

So, remember that mama bird that made her nest in my hurricane shutter boxes?

We went out to check on her today and she wasn't there. We saw one baby bird in the nest, and this on the windowsill beneath:

I was worried about how it had gotten down there, and it was sitting unnaturally still. I thought about trying to get it back into the nest, and then I thought about putting it in a box until its mother came back, or trying to nurse it back to health when I remembered my prior luck with "helping" baby animals, and decided to leave it alone.

BUT, first I decided to get it some water. A little water couldn't hurt and who knew when the mom would be back. So I got a very shallow dish and set it on the windowsill, and the little shit freaked out and started flapping and flying low across the yard.

Which made Lily notice it, and she took off in pursuit. It slammed against the chain link fence as I called Lily off. I went to try to scoop it up and put it back on the windowsill and it squeezed through the fence into the poop bomb throwing neighbor's yard.


I feel so bad. I just went back out there and the mom is back in her nest, probably wondering what the heck happened while she was gone. I don't see the babe-gone-wild, not even when I peek through the hedges into the poop-thrower's yard.

Sorry about that, baby bird. Hope you grow up quick.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Summer of Fun 2009

Summer of Fun 2009 is going good.

I mean, there's been biting and hitting and crying and fighting, but there was no real reason to think any of that would stop just because it was summer.

We had our family kick off party last night. little kid was really worried that I'd invite the lawn people. "Da lawn men not come to da party. Right, mumum? Dey not comin?" he asked about 6 different times. I don't know what he's got against the lawn guys all of a sudden, but I promised him that they wouldn't be there.

We had balloons (helium and those long squiggly ones that are fun to sword fight with) and made cupcakes. Big Kid walked in and saw the balloons and the easel by the front door that I wrote "Happy Summer of Fun 2009 Kick Off Party" on and smiled and said, "Awww, mom! It is so sweet! It is all so nice!"

Baking cupcakes went about as well as I thought. They outvoted me on flavor and demanded chocolate with chocolate frosting. little kid was trying to eat dry mix, oil, eggs, batter, etc. Big Kid was quickly evaluating the tasks and making sure he got chosen for the good ones:

"Three eggs? Let's do an A-B-A pattern when it's time to crack da eggs, okay mom? I'll go first, since I'm oldest and tallest, and den little kid and den me. Okay?"

little kid just could not wait to crack his egg, so for everyone's safety I decided he should just go first. Big Kid quickly realized the implications of the change in order. "Mom, I'm finkin' we should do an A-B-B pattern now for da eggs. I said A-B-A before, but I was meanin' A-B-B, like little kid could go since he's little and den I'd go two times."

little kid could not keep his fingers away from the bowl and Big Kid would scream, "He's eating it!! Oh no! You're gonna die! He's gonna die! I can't believe dis, I can't believe you're gonna get sick!"

"He won't die, Big Kid, he'll probably just puke."

"You're gonna puke! Is dat what you want? Is dat what you want for yourself, little kid? I can't watch him puke."

Then later, as little kid approached the closed oven door to try to peek through the window, I heard, "RUN LITTLE KID!! IT'S HOT! You're gonna catch on fire! You're gonna catch on fire! RUN!!" (little kid didn't run, or even look worried)

They were some happy cupcake-eating boys though. And the cupcakes were good.

This morning they have been painting and that's been a mess. They have already had a bath, and are messy again. We are transforming the playroom closet into a start engraving my mother of the year trophy now.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

That Shirt

You'll all be interested in knowing that I'm wearing the infamous "Squeeze Me" shirt today for the Summer of Fun 2009 Kick Off.


Summer Kick Off

This morning I noticed that Big Kid was silently weeping over breakfast, so I suggested that he quickly make his teacher a card.

He chose purple construction paper (her favorite) and worked intently. When he was done he had drawn a Stop sign growing like a flower on the outside, and on the inside he wrote "I will never forget you and all the days with you. Love your friend, Big Kid."

It made me so 'motional that I had to leave the room. She will definitely cry when she gets it.

I'm getting my work done in preparation for the Summer of Fun 2009 Kick Off Party. little kid and I are going to the store to get balloons and stuff to make cupcakes.

Right now little kid is lying in front of the television naked with a frozen waffle covering up his junk. What's even grosser is that he'll eat that waffle, with no hesitation.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Last Day

Tomorrow is Big Kid's last day of Kindergarten. We'd put him on suicide watch if there was any risk of him ever touching anything sharp, swallowing anything, jumping, or doing anything dangerous whatsoever. He is just so sad about school being over.

Any time I mention the last day, he starts doing the fast blinking to hold back the tears. He looks up, blinks fast over and over again, and does this funny thing with his mouth to stop his chin from quivering. When I ask him what's wrong, he tells me that he feels "motional" about school ending. ('motional is the word of the week around here. Big Kid is 'motional about lots and lots of stuff lately. little kid bit Big Kid yesterday, and he was 'motional about it hours later still.)

There are no promises or consolations able to ease Big Kid's pain, either.

“I'm gonna miss my friends, mom. I'm gonna miss my class and my teatser. Dey are all great and I'm gonna miss dat, no matter how much fun stuff we do. I feel really motional about it every time I fink about it,” he said while starting to cry that he would probably never see Ahsiya or J. again.

As luck would have it, I ran into Ahsiya's mom today, who stopped me to tell me that she had told Ahsiya that Big Kid was switching schools and that she had collapsed in a heap of sobbing, saying that she couldn't go to a school without Big Kid, and crying for over an hour despite the entire family's attempts to cheer her up. I told her how "motional" Big Kid was about it, and we went ahead and exchanged numbers and promises to get them together this summer.

Then I saw J.'s mom. She's the one who didn't help Big Kid get lunch, and relayed the tales of my negligence to me throughout the year. We ended up talking a lot at a birthday party from hell we mutually attended, and by the end of it, I swore that I had mistook her and that there had been some odd social awkwardness going on and that perhaps I had unfairly villified her. At this same birthday party, I had mentioned that we should get the boys together over summer and she didn't respond. At all. It struck me as weird, but we were in a busy place and I began to doubt if she had heard me.

So when I saw her today, I told her that I'd like to exchange numbers to get the boys together, and told her how much I enjoyed their friendship. She laughed and said they were cut from the same cloth and showed me a bunch of photos she had of her son and Big Kid. I put her number in my phone and told her I'd call her, and all seemed well.

Then Big Kid was bouncing around on our bed when he got home and said playfully, "Mrs. P. (J.'s mom) said 'I can't wait for summer because it means the end of Big Kid! No more Big Kid!' And I just told her, 'I'm gonna get your phone number Mrs. P. and J's gonna come to my house and I'm comin' to your house too!"

I pressed Big Kid as to what she said then, or if he thought she was silly for teasing like that, and he changed the subject and seemed unconcerned. She had to be kidding, I think, and if Big Kid didn't react in any way other than to tease her back, maybe this is how they act with each other? Or he certainly could have misrepresented what happened, we all know that's possible. I don't know, I'm a big kidder and I can't see saying that, even jokingly, to a 5 year old friend of my kid's, but who knows.

Why can't my kid make friends with kids whose moms I want to be friends with? I'm just going to drop it, and if Big Kid insists I guess I'll invite J. over and her response will probably be a good indicator.

I'm excited for summer. Tomorrow is our family summer kick off party. I suggested matching shirts, but Mr. Ashley vetoed that. I'm thinking balloons, cupcakes, and family game night. And possibly alcohol--maybe I'll drink some drugs in celebration of no more car rider line or morning traffic or drug and alcohol education programs or awkwardness with weird moms.

Links 4 U

I have some new internetz for you all:

HassleMe: An email service that will harass you into doing stuff by sending you emails at semi-unpredictable intervals.

Cookie Cake Pie: It's a recipe for a pie that's a cookie and a cake. Hell yeah that sounds good. I think.

My latest desktop background: a reminder to stay cool.

Bomomo: Big Kid and I loooooooove Bomomo. Everything I create is ugly as hell, but it's a relaxing distraction.

FutureMe: Write your future self an email. I wrote myself in a year from now.

Easy pancake recipe: Sounds good.

little kid is asleep on one of my arms, so this post just got shorter.

**links fixed, i hope.