Mar 28, 2013

things I am tired of saying

There are certain things that I must say multiple times a day.  These things are not things that I choose to say, but most definitely the things that need to be said.  But I still get tired of saying them.

This one is the bane of motherhood:
I used to threaten stuff like "clean up or I'll sell all your stuff to gypsies!"  or "clean up or you'll never eat cheese again!"  But the kids never took me seriously.  So now I have to get real.  And no iPad privilages for a week?  Life doesn't get much more real than that.


This is something I say every single school morning:
The Monkey still has a hard time doing things for himself.  And we never get out of bed with enough time to leisurely get ready for our day.  We're not morning people, we're "hit snooze at least 7 times and then get angry at the sun for shining" people.  So when there is only 3 minutes until people need to be leaving, and the Monkey is still standing there stuck halfway into a shirt and pantless, it's up to me to get him put together.  And for some reason he thinks that he can go all floppy fish noodle on me, requiring me to shove his foot in his shoe for him.  It's super really obnoxious.  Because he's a six year old human being and not a floppy fish noodle for crying out loud.


I get really REALLY tired of this daily conversation:
I seriously loathe making dinner.  Because first you have to think of something to make.  And then you have to make sure you have all the stuff you need to make it.  Then you have to change tactics half way through when you realize that you are, in fact, missing multiple ingredients.  Then you have to spend an hour in the kitchen figuring out healthy side dishes and stirring things on a hot stove.  Then you have to dish it up for everyone on the right colored plates in the right proportions and serve it with the right utensils.  Then you have to sit at the table while every wails and moans about how disgusting the food is.  And I find that no matter what the dinner is, at least one of the kids is going to hate it.


As much as I hate saying all those things, this next one is the number one most abhorred utterance that I am required to declare once, if not seven times, a day:
I don't know what kind of logic makes a human being think it's ok to leave putrid floaters in the bathroom.  And why am I ALWAYS the one to discover such repulsive offerings?  I wonder sometimes if the kids do it on purpose.  Most likely though is that my children are disgusting creatures of habit that are much too distracted by legos and scooters to bother remembering to flush.  Which really makes me wonder about hand washing.


And those are some things I'm tired of saying.  What about you?  Do you have anything great (greatly annoying, that is) to add to the list?

Mar 14, 2013

All Hail the King of Goosebumps

Did I ever tell you about the time Opie got a goosebump the size of an actual goose egg?  I was looking at pictures from a few years ago and was reminded of how truly colossal it was.

A little back story first:

Opie used to have a giant sized head.  He has since grown into it a little bit.  But from about the time he was 4 months old to like yesterday his head was just too big for his short little body.  So he used to always bump it into stuff. 

ALWAYS.

We could barely get a goosebump healed before he would get a brand new one.  So basically, we had a stash of kid sized ice packs and I got good at looking for signs of a concussion.

Now back to the story:

It was March of 2010, and it was starting to get all warm and nice outside.  I'm pretty sure it was a saturday morning because I ditched the younger kids to take Opie and Two Bits on a bike ride to the neighborhood park.  So Husband must have been home.  Or something.

The kids still had their bike helmets on while they played on the playground which, at the time, did not seem like a big deal.  Helmets are supposed to keep heads safe, right?  That's what I thought.  And then Opie decided to jump off a platform and land in between a couple of metal bars.

Normally, I think he probably could have squeezed between those bars.  But at that moment the width of his big head combined with the girth of his helmet slammed his forehead into one of the metal bars with a fairly decent amount of force.  And this was the end result:


And this was after ice packs and laying down.  (Except that before that we had to get all the way home with a screaming Opie - so the whole neighborhood heard about it.)

The goosebump lasted weeks.  It ever so slowly shrank and changed colors.  And eventually it melted down into his eyes so he had double black eyes for awhile too. 

But even after a massive conk like that he still didn't have a concussion (he never has).  So maybe his head was so big because his skull is twice as thick as a normal person's?

At any rate, it was a pretty amazing goosebump.  And I love it when my kids' injuries make random people stop and stare....and probably wonder if I beat him.  And then I just want to yell, "I was being nice - WE WENT TO THE PARK, OK?!!!" 

And Opie wasn't very happy about it either.

(This was about 10 days after it happened.)

Mar 4, 2013

what to read.....?

I haven't been reading as much lately as I used to.  Not that I don't like to ignore the things I should be doing by doing something more entertaining.  Because I do like to do that.  It's just that with the few books that I've actually attempted to read I don't make it too far before getting  bored.

sigh.

I don't know if my attention span has gotten shorter, or I just haven't found the right books.  It's probably the first one.....but let's pretend that it's not really my fault.

What I think the problem really is that I used to never read.  EVER.  Because I just didn't like to.  And I was pretty busy doing other stuff.  When I was in high school I thoroughly believed in Cliff's Notes and excellent guessing on multiple choice tests.  I'm pretty sure I read only one book from cover to cover during my whole teenage career and it wasn't even for school.

This is where you're probably thinking I was a horrible student.  On the contrary, I graduated with high honors and a full ride scholarship.  Because I was ever so good at guessing on multiple choice tests.  And also, I think my high school was fairly lacking in the whole "we challenge our students" arena.

So now that we've that cleared up let's talk about books again.

I didn't start reading for fun until I was put on bedrest with my last pregnancy.  That was before I knew about Netflix or Hulu or Amazon Instant Video.  We didn't even have cable.  So yeah, I read lots and lots and lots.

And then I kept reading after that because I realized that I actually do like to read.

But then I kind of just stopped reading again.

I think I got busy doing other things again.  Plus I realized my deep and unending love for streaming.  But I want to get back to reading, because I sort of miss it.  And the other day my internet was dead for multiple days in a row and I almost died from the withdrawals.

Is it sad that I can't go for a few days without streaming?  Or would that fall under the "pathetic" category?

Either way I think I should start a new book.  And I've decided to read this:


I liked the style of writing JK Rowling used in all the Harry Potter books, so I'm hoping that I like this too.  And if I get it through the Kindle app on my phone then possibly I'll actually read it the next time I find myself with a little free time.   Maybe.

We'll see how it goes....

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