Our January bits and bobs via Facebook… (What is this? All answers are HERE.)
A few days ago I expressed surprise at how violated my husband felt by my decision to purchase cheap toilet paper.
Well. I am currently sitting at an auto repair shop where the very unremarkable bathroom off the lobby offers super deluxe toilet paper, so soft that it that may possibly be made with woven unicorn hair. Not a woman in sight, my friends.
So it seems my first significant observation in 2014 is about toilet paper. [Champagne cork pops!]
Sitting in a therapy waiting room. A little boy just walked out with his OT and announced to his father, “I did amazing.” This is the kind of thing that makes me LOVE kids. Next time I complete a task, I’m telling the first person I see, “I did amazing.” Okay – maybe I’ll just do that in my head…but they will be able to SEE IN MY EYES just how amazing I did.
Seeing children with icicles poised at lips…
“Did you pull those off the car? Never put anything you pull off the car IN YOUR MOUTH.”
Does motherhood automatically make you wise? Because I’m like a freaking sage around here…
Eleanor is reading me her new Frozen book…
Eleanor: “In a grassy valley next to a deep f…” What is that word?
Eleanor: What’s a fjord?
Me: [Bluffs knowing the answer to this question without having to look it up.]
Eleanor: That’s hard to pronounce. I’ll just say “the F word” when I see it.
Me: [Tries to decide whether I should explain what “the F word” means or just assume that she won’t encounter the word “fjord” again in the next five years…]
Continuation of last post…
Me: Tells Chris the funny story about Eleanor reading Frozen and asking what “fjord” means, and me not really knowing the definition, and her deciding to just call it “the F word” when she sees it.
Chris: [thinking…] “Fjord”…a sea-valley created by ice…
Me: [thinking: “Chris”…a giant know-it-all who would rather define “fjord” than laugh at my funny story… That’s hard to pronounce. I’ll just say “the A-word” when I see him.]
Seriously though – I’m super excited to know that it won’t be ME sitting up all night, helping them write their eighth grade geography reports.
Right after taking a shower, I noticed that my forehead looked really smooth. I mean, the usual “fine lines” were still there…but just barely. As I stared in the mirror admiring myself, I wondered what I’ve been doing differently. I HAVE been better about applying the anti-aging cream every night and staying hydrated… Maybe consistency is the answer! Then I felt the towel on my head tugging at my hairline. And as soon as I removed it the lines were deeper. So apparently the ANSWER is just a good old fashioned facelift. OR? Really heavy turbans….
I thought having an appliance repair man come to fix our refrigerator was going to be today’s inconvenience. I was mistaken.
I can’t even believe that I’m saying this but there is a bat trapped in our storm window. AGAIN!
UPDATE #1 10:05 a.m.
Left a message for the bat lady!
UPDATE #2 11:59 a.m.
A volunteer is going to try to come to save the bat today…the bat lady reminded me that I should probably do something about that storm window…the bat is huddled in a ball in the corner of the window so [my bat-squeamish friends] do not have to fear pictures on my timeline…the bat lady confirmed that he is probably comfortable next to my warm window so my bat-loving friends don’t need to worry about him…AND yes – it’s most likely the same bat.
UPDATE #3 6:54 p.m.
The bat lady (another bat lady) came to rescue our bat. He’s out! Amazing how UNdramatic today’s experience was in comparison to last year. Even took a couple of videos for posterity. The storm window is now firmly shut!
Eleanor: [making lots of excited squawking noises about winning something in a “very hard” game she was playing on the computer]
Me: Wait – what?
Eleanor: [elaborate explanation about the game that I didn’t actually hear because even though I asked, I wasn’t listening]
Chris: What is this game?
Eleanor: It’s on americangirl.com.
Chris: You were playing an American Girl Doll video game?!
Me: What is it?
Eleanor: You know Temple Run?
Me: Isn’t that a game for grownups??
Eleanor: No [Chris nods his head, yes.]
Me: Is that like Tomb Raider?
Eleanor: What? [Chris nods his head, yes.]
Introducing the 2014 “Girl of the Year”: Laura Croft!
Okay! This is for those of you who love bats. Everyone else – avert your eyes…. [PLEASE don’t judge the filthy – and very old – windows…the inside of my house is not filthy or old.]
Help – Wisconsin friends! Chris wanted a deep fryer for Christmas, so my first thought was FRIED CHEESE CURDS. I have always wanted to try this (I think ever since I saw a video Ann Imig and Amy Windsor made years ago called “The Wurst Mothers” – and I am NOT kidding). We now have a fryer! I found an actual bag of cheese curds from Wisconsin! We followed the recipe – put it in the fryer – and…big mess. WHO has a really good fried cheese curds recipe? I’m feeling very cheated and frowny face about this… [Epilogue: NO ONE I know in the Midwest has ever made fried cheese curds before. But all claim to really enjoy eating them at the Wisconsin State Fair. NOT helpful.]
Chris is explaining the Rose Bowl to me and I think I now understand how he feels when I talk about musicals.
Here’s the problem with kids: they don’t know how to lie to the dentist about flossing.
You know you are a bad mom when most of your ideas about dinner for the kids involve peanut butter on a rice cake.
Exactly what publishing company decided that I have a free subscription to Women’s Health?? As I type, Chris is reading up on how I can have “the best butt ever” and…OH NOW we’re perusing “The Hot-Sex Bucket List.” Like I need this in my life.
“I am a grownup and I can sing of I want to!”
When will my children learn that I am immune to their wailing protests? And they’re gonna hear me Roar.
“It’s dinner time not doughnut time!”
It’s hard to be a parent. You have to say so many things that you barely believe yourself.
I just Marge Simpson growled at my children. I believe I have “arrived.”
Helping George fill out his reading log for the week…
Me: You can also include Cowboy and Octopus. We read that all the time.
George: Did we read it this week?
Me: Sure – why not.
Never too early to start on resume writing skills…
Oliver: Mom… I don’t want you to die…because I don’t want to grew up.
Me: I’m not going to die.
Oliver: And I’m not going to grew up.
Me: So that’s decided then.
Oliver: And you’ll never go on the boat…
Damn you Frozen!
If it wasn’t for that Oscar Meyer song, I would never remember how to spell “bologna.” And yes, I do pause and sing B-O-L-O-G-N-A in my head before typing it. Every time.
Recently read a tweet from @tomandlorenzo that said “Let It Go” from Frozen is a total drag queen song – which makes me like it EVEN MORE.
Waiting for Godot – I MEAN the snow…
Oh just make yourself at home Alice – it’s not like I’m picky about the pillow arrangement on my NEWLY MADE BED or anything…
You know this one is sick when he falls asleep mid-popcorn…
TO: Alice (my dog)
FROM: THE MANAGEMENT (me)
Effective immediately: Capering while on leash is no longer permitted. It is annoying and sometimes dangerous. While this family places great value on happiness and encourages both human AND canine expressions of such, every member MUST adhere to certain rules. This includes a zero tolerance policy regarding boisterous physical activity while tethered to another. Neglecting to comply will result in a behavioral assessment and possible termination. From the family, not life itself – we’re not monsters. We’re also not kidding. Thank you.
The great thing about a big pile of unfolded clean laundry on your living room couch is that you don’t have to run upstairs to get clothes for your kids. You can easily find whatever you need by just shuffling through the pile! Except for the fact that this is never true…
Having a radio-only option in your car means that you may find yourself in the school kiss-and-ride line with 4 kids aged 5-8 listening to Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get It On.
Let’s Hear It For the Boy just came on the radio and Oliver is already telling me to stop singing. Like he thinks I have any control over that!
I wish I started every day the way Cora Crawley does on Downton Abbey. With the same china service and dressing gown.
Reading a book in which most of the characters are prudes or snobs (or both) and feeling mildly uncomfortable by how strongly I identify with them…
Eleanor: Mom! I can’t find my beads. Did you move them?
Me: I think I moved them into the living room – check next to the piano.
Eleanor: [after leaving for minute to go look] They’re not THERE!
Me: They weren’t next to the piano?
Eleanor: NOOO! Can you help me?
Me: Sigh. Why am I the only one who can ever find anything around here?
Eleanor: Because you’re the only one who actually looks.
Right before my head exploded, I appreciated this acknowledgment.
Channel surfing score! Caught the last 20 minutes of Hot Tub Time Machine. Only regret is missing Craig Robinson singing Let’s Get it Started.
So it seems my LAST significant observation in JANUARY 2014 is that I LOVE the movie, Hot Tub Time Machine. No secrets here my friends…loud and proud…