Friday, December 28, 2012
The little darlings pick up. Not really.
The little angels are picking up after themselves right now. That's code for fighting. They're fighting right now. It's all a red herring, intended to distract me from the fact that they are not picking up after themselves right now.
You know, I've been thinking a lot about the purpose of this blog. I've decided that it will be the antithesis of facebook. On facebook, people put their best foot forward. Oh the recipes! Oh the pretty crafts! Oh the darling children! You won't find that on this blog. Here, I'm splitting myself open down the middle. Oh the ugly innards! Oh the piles of laundry! Oh the bickering! Oh the messy rooms! Oh the sink full of dirty dishes!
Enjoy...
You know, I've been thinking a lot about the purpose of this blog. I've decided that it will be the antithesis of facebook. On facebook, people put their best foot forward. Oh the recipes! Oh the pretty crafts! Oh the darling children! You won't find that on this blog. Here, I'm splitting myself open down the middle. Oh the ugly innards! Oh the piles of laundry! Oh the bickering! Oh the messy rooms! Oh the sink full of dirty dishes!
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
When your child is being recorded
Lucy, age 4, is part of a research study that involves her wearing a microphone for four days. For four days I was the BEST. MOMMY. EVER.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Quote of the Day
"Don't tell me you're practically best friends with your pre-teen girl because it just might cause me to have to poke your eyes out." Denise Caldwell
The grocery store is no place for kids
Thinking I would give Mike a break from the kids, I took them all to the grocery store with me. We had to get pumpkins and candy so I thought it would be fun, even though usually I'd rather poke my eye out with a sharp stick than take even just 2 of them to the store. Half an hour and 4 dawdling kids later, we're in the car. We get there, and Lucy nearly gets hit by a car because she let's go of my hand and starts twirling in the parking lot, she's so excited to pick out candy. [I'll stop here and add that if you haven't seen Jerry Seinfeld's take on Halloween, you really must do so. I mean, what are we doing all year telling kids not to take candy from strangers and then on Halloween we're all for it?] Now it starts: it takes an hour to pick out pumpkins because they can't decide, Jacob won't pick out a pumpkin because he thinks it's stoopid and he's mad that I'm making him do it, Paige huffs off because she's sick of being with the rest of us and she wants to scope out the candy. Lucy and Josie freak out - they want to pick out candy too. We leave Jacob with the pumpkins and head off to the candy where we get to spend forever picking it out plus getting in little catfights ("HEY! THAT'S THE CANDY I WAS GOING TO PICK OUT!"). Paige gets her candy and heads to the checkout with a $1.50 coupon that will mean we get the bag of candy for only 47 cents. The girls and I finish up; we end up right behind her and I discover her trying to sneak in a pack of Altoids. [Back story: Paige has been prohibited from bringing $ with her EVERYWHERE and frittering it away on crap. The new rule in our house is that you need to decide ahead of time if you want something and run it by mom and dad.] Plus, looking at her from behind, I can appreciate that she is not wearing any underwear. For whatever reason, my daughter does not consistently put underwear on and it is to the point where she gets in trouble for it with some regularity. Next up, she talks sarcastically to the girls, who are - apparently - overly enthusiastic about something as mundane as candy. So I channel my bad self, who I have been keeping seriously under wraps, and let Paige know what I think about her behavior. But in doing so, I have committed a prepubescent cardinal sin, "embarrassing her in public." Now she's fuming and holding back tears and the girls are oblivious and still trying to do spins in the aisle with candy-driven excitement (blocking the elderly people who do not appear to appreciate the darling carefree whimsy of 4-year-old girls). Jacob is out by the pumpkins, arms crossed, making his point that he is hating every minute of Halloween-sponsored family time. All of this was made even more enjoyable by the sheer nature of my local Fry's Food and Drug:
We live near a retirement community. Just like we poor working folk, our local retirees enjoy shopping en mass on the weekend. Yes, it's true. They have all week to do it, but instead they decide to flood the store on Saturday and Sunday when we poor working schmucks have to be there. Even when I'm by myself, it's a real thrill to navigate a store filled with carts stopped in the middle of the aisle, couples debating for indetermine lengths of time over All Bran versus Honey Bunches of Oats, automatic grocery carts that exceed an appropriate speed limit and which have a turn radius that could take out half an aisle, and the rare sweet old lady who gives me a smile after I've waited patiently for her to select her denture cream, which just so happens to be underneath the toothpaste I'd like to buy. I get 25% "oh your children are so cute, look at them all spread out behind you like ducklings;" 70% "look at all these children in my way; don't they know they should be in a strict single-file line behind their mother ala the Von Trapp family pre-Maria," and 5% who try to interact with Josie - the little one - setting her into a fit of crying and hiding behind her mother. I'll add here that grocery shopping is a sheer joy. Of course I am being ageist in my complaints, but then again, they're probably wondering why a (young?) mother is bringing 4 little kids to the store. Tit for tat I say. A side tip: don't go to my Fry's grocery store every 3rd Tuesday of the month - it's blue hair day. 'Nuf said.
We live near a retirement community. Just like we poor working folk, our local retirees enjoy shopping en mass on the weekend. Yes, it's true. They have all week to do it, but instead they decide to flood the store on Saturday and Sunday when we poor working schmucks have to be there. Even when I'm by myself, it's a real thrill to navigate a store filled with carts stopped in the middle of the aisle, couples debating for indetermine lengths of time over All Bran versus Honey Bunches of Oats, automatic grocery carts that exceed an appropriate speed limit and which have a turn radius that could take out half an aisle, and the rare sweet old lady who gives me a smile after I've waited patiently for her to select her denture cream, which just so happens to be underneath the toothpaste I'd like to buy. I get 25% "oh your children are so cute, look at them all spread out behind you like ducklings;" 70% "look at all these children in my way; don't they know they should be in a strict single-file line behind their mother ala the Von Trapp family pre-Maria," and 5% who try to interact with Josie - the little one - setting her into a fit of crying and hiding behind her mother. I'll add here that grocery shopping is a sheer joy. Of course I am being ageist in my complaints, but then again, they're probably wondering why a (young?) mother is bringing 4 little kids to the store. Tit for tat I say. A side tip: don't go to my Fry's grocery store every 3rd Tuesday of the month - it's blue hair day. 'Nuf said.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Prickly pear stickers and houses that explode when you clean them
So last night Lucy picked up a piece of a prickly pear cactus. Who knew that this most innocent looking cactus has tiny fine hair-like stickers that are almost invisible but hurt like a mother? [I offended myself with that statement.] Well now you do. Twenty minutes with tweezers, a bright light, cortisone cream, benadryl and helpful neighbors later, I still had a weepy child but one who could be placated with an ice cube to her hand. This morning, she's complaining that it still hurts. So off to the internet I go.
The remedy recommended by the internet is as follows: "Pull out the stickers with tweezers, Einstein."
That was it. Followed closely by: the remaining stickers will work their way out over time. So the real answer is, "Pull out the stickers with tweezers, give your child an ice cube to hold and then be prepared to provide at least 24 hours of mommy attention, including hugs and love, distraction, stickers, the Playdoh you never let her play with because it's a bleepin mess, the finger paints you never let her play with because it's a bleepin mess, a washcloth because you think it might distract her to help clean up the bleepin mess and because 4-year-old girls still think cleaning is fun, candy because you can't stand to hear any more whiny crying which by this point you think is either overkill or even a bit fake, a movie because you're starting to burn out on your needy child, followed closely by "it's going to take some time, honey; watch your movie," and finally, "Lucy, I don't want to hear about your hand anymore. I pulled out all the stickers. It will feel better later. Mommy has a few things to do." And then you return to cleaning your house, which exploded almost immediately after the power clean you just did a couple of days ago.
The remedy recommended by the internet is as follows: "Pull out the stickers with tweezers, Einstein."
That was it. Followed closely by: the remaining stickers will work their way out over time. So the real answer is, "Pull out the stickers with tweezers, give your child an ice cube to hold and then be prepared to provide at least 24 hours of mommy attention, including hugs and love, distraction, stickers, the Playdoh you never let her play with because it's a bleepin mess, the finger paints you never let her play with because it's a bleepin mess, a washcloth because you think it might distract her to help clean up the bleepin mess and because 4-year-old girls still think cleaning is fun, candy because you can't stand to hear any more whiny crying which by this point you think is either overkill or even a bit fake, a movie because you're starting to burn out on your needy child, followed closely by "it's going to take some time, honey; watch your movie," and finally, "Lucy, I don't want to hear about your hand anymore. I pulled out all the stickers. It will feel better later. Mommy has a few things to do." And then you return to cleaning your house, which exploded almost immediately after the power clean you just did a couple of days ago.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Disneyland
I want to separate the Disneyland blog from the rest, so that I can make a few choice comments:
1. I will never be too old for Disneyland or go there too often. I love it.
2. Disneyland is f*&%ing expensive. I can't go there very often.
3. If you take your young kids to Disneyland, pin your name and # to their shirt so whoever finds your little darlings can call you on your cell.
4. If you take your pre-adolescent children, agree on a meeting spot and make sure that the eye rolling means "I heard you even though I think it's a dumb idea and you're stoopid if you think I'm going to get lost at my age," instead of "What did you say? Everything you say is stoopid and so I'm just rolling my eyes waiting for you to be done talking." I like to follow this by saying, "Tell me back what I just said." The kids love that.
5. If you do lose your kid at Disneyland, fear not. The staff respond immediately and I'm told they "haven't lost a child yet." S'cuse me: the CAST MEMBERS respond immediately.
6. It's not Cinderella's castle, it's Sleeping Beauty's castle. Alternately: Aurora's castle. My bad.
7. If you have girls, hit the area where the Disney princesses are first thing in the morning before the line is long. Do it!
8. Take a cell phone picture of the barcode for your park hopper tickets. If you lose them on day 1, you will be thanking me big time later b/c this will be the only way Disneyland can help you.
9. Take a cell phone picture of the barcode for your photo pass (see #8 above). Better: hand the photographer your camera and s/he will take the same photo with your camera and you won't need to buy a bunch of expensive prints from Disneyland. If you do buy the pictures, just splurge for the photo CD because it's cheaper in the long run if you want more than just a couple photos. Better: wait til you return home, register your photo pass and wait for the e-mails from Disney offering you deep discounts on your photos lest you forget to ever buy them now that Disneyland is a distant memory.
10. Except: Let them take your picture at night in front of (eh hem) Sleeping Beauty's castle. Trust me, the picture will be epic with their fancy camera; a dud with yours. Same for any other night pictures such as at California Adventure with the water and boardwalk in the background.
11. Use FastPass - duh! But remember that you can use it (same day) at any time past the return time so don't get rid of it if you don't get back to the ride during the window of time printed on the ticket.
12. Tell the kids no souvenirs so they won't bug you during the trip. Then, at a certain time on the last day, wow them with the fact that they can get something. Then no more souvenirs for reals.
13. When you arrive, buy an autograph book and pen. Immediately write your child's name and address in the front. If you leave it somewhere, all the characters will sign it and Disneyland will pop it in the mail for you. Take pictures and get autographs with all the characters. So cute!
14. Rent a locker each day so you don't have to carry a bunch of crap around with you. Just won a bunch of stuff on the boardwalk? Don't want to carry around your souvenir cup now that you drank everything? It's too hot for your sweatshirt but it will be in the 50's at night? Just stuff it all in the locker.
15. Buy a Christmas ornament with the year on it.
16. I'll think of more later. Oh before I forget: avoid LaQuinta Anaheim/Disneyland Inn and Suites at all costs. Blech.
1. I will never be too old for Disneyland or go there too often. I love it.
2. Disneyland is f*&%ing expensive. I can't go there very often.
3. If you take your young kids to Disneyland, pin your name and # to their shirt so whoever finds your little darlings can call you on your cell.
4. If you take your pre-adolescent children, agree on a meeting spot and make sure that the eye rolling means "I heard you even though I think it's a dumb idea and you're stoopid if you think I'm going to get lost at my age," instead of "What did you say? Everything you say is stoopid and so I'm just rolling my eyes waiting for you to be done talking." I like to follow this by saying, "Tell me back what I just said." The kids love that.
5. If you do lose your kid at Disneyland, fear not. The staff respond immediately and I'm told they "haven't lost a child yet." S'cuse me: the CAST MEMBERS respond immediately.
6. It's not Cinderella's castle, it's Sleeping Beauty's castle. Alternately: Aurora's castle. My bad.
7. If you have girls, hit the area where the Disney princesses are first thing in the morning before the line is long. Do it!
8. Take a cell phone picture of the barcode for your park hopper tickets. If you lose them on day 1, you will be thanking me big time later b/c this will be the only way Disneyland can help you.
9. Take a cell phone picture of the barcode for your photo pass (see #8 above). Better: hand the photographer your camera and s/he will take the same photo with your camera and you won't need to buy a bunch of expensive prints from Disneyland. If you do buy the pictures, just splurge for the photo CD because it's cheaper in the long run if you want more than just a couple photos. Better: wait til you return home, register your photo pass and wait for the e-mails from Disney offering you deep discounts on your photos lest you forget to ever buy them now that Disneyland is a distant memory.
10. Except: Let them take your picture at night in front of (eh hem) Sleeping Beauty's castle. Trust me, the picture will be epic with their fancy camera; a dud with yours. Same for any other night pictures such as at California Adventure with the water and boardwalk in the background.
11. Use FastPass - duh! But remember that you can use it (same day) at any time past the return time so don't get rid of it if you don't get back to the ride during the window of time printed on the ticket.
12. Tell the kids no souvenirs so they won't bug you during the trip. Then, at a certain time on the last day, wow them with the fact that they can get something. Then no more souvenirs for reals.
13. When you arrive, buy an autograph book and pen. Immediately write your child's name and address in the front. If you leave it somewhere, all the characters will sign it and Disneyland will pop it in the mail for you. Take pictures and get autographs with all the characters. So cute!
14. Rent a locker each day so you don't have to carry a bunch of crap around with you. Just won a bunch of stuff on the boardwalk? Don't want to carry around your souvenir cup now that you drank everything? It's too hot for your sweatshirt but it will be in the 50's at night? Just stuff it all in the locker.
15. Buy a Christmas ornament with the year on it.
16. I'll think of more later. Oh before I forget: avoid LaQuinta Anaheim/Disneyland Inn and Suites at all costs. Blech.
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