Jun 25, 2012

childhood miseries

I'm listening to my children converse in the other room and I'm realizing that I totally forgot about the injustices of childhood.  You know, when the world is out to get you, and everyone hates you, and you're the unluckiest kid on the entire planet and possibly universe, otherwise why would your life be SO HARD?!

Two Bits is teaching the younger two the finer points of voicing the despair and unfairness of things while they pick a billion plastic baggies off the floor that they decided to throw there and then try and convince me that our giant box of baggies exploded on it's very own.

The Two Bits dramatic dialogue goes like this:

"This is the worst summer vacation EVER.  We're like slaves!  We don't even have a vacation planned, and we can't even go to Disneyland even though we're doing ALL THESE chores!!  We never do anything fun.  Our days are just filled with chores and cleaning and relaxing then more chores, and then relaxing, then watching movies, then more and more and more and more and more and more and more chores! Then we have to do MORE CHORES!!

THIS IS SO UNFAIR!!!!!"

And the whole time the little kids are just going, "YEAH!" and then repeating the "more and more and more" on que.

It reminded me of my childhood.  My sisters and I were like slaves too.  Always having to clean up after ourselves and do horrible things like vacuum the WHOLE ENTIRE living room.  And then I HAD to spend every afternoon outside with my friends.  Plus, we only got ice cream cones whenever my mom FELT LIKE IT!

Being a kid is the worst.

Jun 19, 2012

this is why friends don't like to come to our house

Opie has a friend over today.  This does not happen often.  Because we kind of scare people.  Even though I'm not even my usual scary self when other people's kids are here, just more, um, me-ish can't-be-helped scary.

Which I guess is still kinda scary.

And also my kids don't have friends over because they always get "SO BORED".  Because, all 50 billion of their toys don't ever sound like fun.  I mean, why would they?  It's not like people spent hard earned money to provide my children entertainment in plastic and blinking form or anything.

So before Opie and his friend started on the "we're SO BORED"'s I took some sheets outside and built them a tent by hanging them from our tree.  Because I'm super clever like that.  And then I thought, "HA!  They'll be busy playing here for HOOOOOURS."

Except that they were bored by the tent in less time than it took me to set it up.

So then I told them to play commandos and the tent could be their base, and once again patted myself on the back for being such a genius and all.

Except that they were bored after about 4 minutes of commandos.

So when they came to me again professing their total non-entertainment I asked them why they didn't have fun playing commandos.

"Because we just stood there and then ran around a little.  It was SO BORING."

And then I said, "Obviously you guys have no idea how to play commandos."  And then I silently reprimanded myself for having children that are so incompetent at commando playing.

So finally I handed them each a walkie-talkie.  MY walkie-talkies.  Grown up real ones that I think are awesome, because I really am a fan of playing commandos.

And then I told Opie and his friend, "You can take these outside and be super agent ninja commandos, but you have to be super careful with these, because if you break them, you will die."

Opie just shook his head like, "how many times have I hear that threat?"  But his friend was all wide-eyed staring at me.  So I kept going.

"I don't think your mom would appreciate it if you died here today.  So you guys better be really REALLY careful."  I said.

Then Opie's friend was all worried and said, "So, like, if we break them, then they start on fire, and then explode or something?!"

And then I looked at him all scary like (but normal scary, not real scary - actually just more serious like, not really scary, I promise) and I said, "No, I would just be really MAD."

I figured it would probably be good to end it at that.  But Opie had to pipe in, because, you know, kids DO THAT.  So then he told his friend, "Yeah, and if she gets really mad she'll punch us in the face and stuff until we bleed."

I seriously have no idea why my kids don't have more friends over.  Our house is SUPER FUN.

Jun 15, 2012

creepy moth

My husband is the worst moth killer ever.

I'm very good at my part of the moth killing job.  I see the moth.  I jump and point.  I yell, "It's a moth!  Get some toilet paper.  Kill it!  KILL IT!  HURRY!"

But then...

Husband takes FOREVER getting toilet paper while I have to watch the moth and wait and wait and wait.

So then, by the time Husband comes back, it has MOVED.

I really hate it when bugs move.  It's creepy.

When the moth killing is finally a go, Husband starts swinging his arms wildly.  Probably because the moth is flying at his face. I've learned to leave the room because he doesn't even care if he makes the moth go flying right at MY face.  It's rude.  And creepy.

And then most of the time he can't find the moth after he's been flinging his arms around, because it's sort of impossible to watch a moth and swing at a moth at the same time.  Or so Husband tells me.

So then I have to cower in my room and type things on my blog.  Because the moth is still at large in the other room.

**UPDATE**

Literally, 3 minutes after I hit "publish" Husband came into our room.  And he's like, "I just wanted to let you know that I caught the moth, see..."

AND THEN HE OPENED UP SOME TOILET PAPER IN HIS HAND AND THE MOTH FLEW OUT!

And then he started swinging his arms and lost it again.  In MY BEDROOM.  Where my bed is.  How am I ever supposed to sleep in there without having creepy moth dreams?!

Plus, now I'm cowering in the other room while me room is all moth-at-large-y.

Jun 11, 2012

a REAL ghost story. for reals this time.

If you haven't noticed I have this thing about ghosts.  And am slightly and sort of ish obsessed, but not really, about it.  Well, guess what?!  I have a real ghost story to tell now.  A REAL ONE.

For reals, people, REEEAL.

The other night I got in bed while Husband headed to the basement to iron his fancy clothes (because he has to wear fancy clothes to work now).  I closed my bedroom door, got in bed, rolled to face the wall, and started to nod off.

I wasn't really asleep yet though, and I left a lamp on for when Husband came back up.  Except that Husband takes a LOOOOOOONG time to iron.  Because he likes his fancy clothes to be perfection in starch.

As I laid there, not quite sleeping yet, Heavy footsteps came from the kitchen, and then into the hall.  Then my bedroom door opened - I heard the doorknob turn, I heard it creak open (old houses have creaky doors as a rule).  And then the footsteps came into my room.

I thought it was just Husband, that maybe he had forgotten something.  Because it had only been a few minutes since he went downstairs, so he couldn't have been finished.

But once he had come into the room he got really quiet, and he didn't hear him leave.

I wondered what he was doing.

But I was feeling rather lazy, so I didn't want to roll over just to see him sniffing socks or something.  But he was being way quieter than usual, and he still hadn't left the room.

I finally decided to roll over.  It had only been like maybe a minute and a half, but you know, what the heck would Husband be doing standing all quiet-like in our room for that much time when precious ironing needed done?

I rolled over while saying, "What are you do......"  Husband wasn't in the room.  No one was in the room with me.

But I had clearly heard footsteps coming toward and into the room.  I had clearly heard the door open.  In fact, the door was wide open.  I know it actually happened.  I wasn't so close to sleep that I had imagined it.

My first instinct was to freak out, but then I decided to believe that Husband had come up, grabbed something, and walked lightly -on possible tiptoes- back to the basement.  But even then, he knew to close the door behind him because I had been sleeping with a humidifier and he knows that I will beat him if he lets all my moist air out of the room.  But still, I believed it was him, rolled back over, and went to sleep.

The next morning I asked Husband if he had come up to get something after just going down to iron.  He acted confused.  So I had to put it in really specific terms like, "Did you come back up the stairs, and come into our room, about 3 minutes after you went down to iron?  Did you leave the door open?"

And guess what?

He had been downstairs starching and ironing the ENTIRE time.

And that, dear friends, means that something else had walked through my kitchen, down the hall, opened my bedroom door, and walked into the room just to stand there and watch me sleep.  Or it evaporated.  Or I dunno, something.  But it wasn't a live person, and that's what matters most in a real live ghost story.

And I didn't even make any of this up.  This time.  Pinky promise.

Jun 8, 2012

back to blogging again

So it's summer vacation.  yeeeeha.  My kids have spent their two first days of summer vacation "doing chores" which is what I told them to do.  Except that "doing chores" means "destroy the house" to the kids.  So, you know, good times.

I want to start blogging regularly again because I miss having an outlet in which I can say whatever I want.  Outlets are super.

I was actually going to start blogging regularly about a month ago.  And then all sorts of not cool happened and I just didn't feel like it.  But now it's a little less not cool, so yeah, we're good.

One awesome thing about summer vacation is that I decided to have a tradition where I rewatch Buffy the Vampire Slayer seasons 1-7.  Which is what I'm doing while I type this blog post.  Because Buffy is neato and I still love Spike.

And guess what else?  My 5 year old Monkey needs bifocals.  Yup.  BIFOCALS.  Which is the super bestest thing ever.

Also, our car broke down and then we had no car for 3 weeks.  So we rented one, because, yeah, need a car.  And it was really expensive and our whole family couldn't fit in it.  And that was part of our not cool stuff.

Oh, and also, my husband was laid off from his job, and then found another job, and also he might find a better job, and possibly we'll be moving to a different state again.

Basically, ALL YAY.