Archive for May, 2007

Grossing out a 14 year old.

May 31, 2007

We have been on a kick of making home made ice cream. My daughter’s favorite kind is chocolate peanut butter.
The other night she made a batch and distributed some to her brother and his friend, B.
B: “I don’t know if I like this.”
Me: “It’s just chocolate peanut butter ice cream.”
B: “Well, I’ve never tried it before, so I can’t eat it. I don’t eat anything I haven’t had before.”
Me: “???? So, what, you’re still on an all breast milk diet?”

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May 29, 2007

On arriving home from the pool Saturday Reagan said “A. is taking advantage of ‘Sam;’ he has liked her all year but she doesn’t like him. But she didn’t have any money at the pool and he went home and got $5 for her.” I was almost speechless. I found it really, really disturbing that her friend would accept money from another child. $5 to a 12 year old is a good deal of money.
If he had bought her a can of soda, out of friendship, it wouldn’t have been a big deal to me. But the fact that she used his feelings for her for her own gain…. it’s not an issue I thought I would have to deal with yet. I gave Reagan the lecture… “don’t accept money from boys, etc.” I have never thought to mention this before, but I guess the fact that she recognized that A. was “taking advantage” is a good sign.
Is this a simple mistake, a lack of good manners on her friend’s part? Or is it an indicator of her character? (Yes, right now I am picturing her as the future “Anna Nicole Smith.”)

May 25, 2007

Quizzing the kids (Tay, Rea and friend, Blake) at dinner:
Me: Does anyone know what a dutch baby is?
Reagan: “A baby from the Netherlands?”
Me: “No, I’ll give you a hint, it’s a food item.”
Reagan: “Is it a baby from the Netherlands wrapped in bacon and baked?”
Me: “No, that’s awful; who would do that?”
Blake: “The Nazi’s?”

“Why I blog” Meme

May 22, 2007

Thanks to Lollygaggin‘ for tagging me with my first ever “meme” about why I blog.
1. I have seriously neglected my kids’ “baby books” and would like some record of their childhood craziness. To blackmail them with later, of course.
2. Reading other blogs inspired me.
3. Since I’ve been out of college, I have written little other than grocery lists and threatening letters to my kids (Clean up your room, NOW! Love, Mom) and while not a writing enthusiatist, I don’t want to lose that skill.
4. Writing forces me to think more deeply about issues in my life, to put the feelings into coherent thought. (What’s that saying about an unexamined life?)
5. I like the interactiveness of blogs. It helps to know other people have had similar experiences; even negative comments are appreciated and make me think more critically about what I have written.

Now to the fun part, tagging others.
You’re it!
Coffee and a Cubicle
Morton Malaise
Krisser Prisser
Good Year for the Outlaw
and
Pointlessly Hypertechnical

Sorry if any of you have been tagged before. I’m behind on my blog reading this week.

May 18, 2007

In study hall, reading the student hand book aloud:

Taylor: “‘No rude or crude hand gestures are allowed.’ I give that a BIG THUMBS DOWN.”

Ugh… my child and his sarcastic wit. It’s amazing that he never seems to get in trouble.

Yesterday he told me that he had done something “evil and devious” and was cackling and smirking. I’m just waiting for the school to call or a sudden scream from his sister.

May 16, 2007

After a day with her younger cousins:

Reagan: “Mom, I want a little sister.”

Me: “uhh…. well,” (hemming and hawing)

Reagan: “but I want to pick it out, I wouldn’t want to get a dud……
or a dude!”

Poseur?

May 14, 2007

Speaking to Taylor’s friend W. the other day:
“W., I see your mom around town sometimes and I hope she doesn’t think I’m rude; I just never know what to say.”
W: “Well, maybe it’s because she’s more of a “grown up” grown-up than you are?”

Funny, but it’s true. I think I get nervous around the other parents because they seem somehow more grown up than I am. They probably have 401K’s, life insurance, wills and a plan for their future; they likely don’t eat ice cream for breakfast or make jokes about testicles (What’s the difference between a snow man and a snow woman? Snow Balls!).
They likely don’t worry about the check to the PTO fundraiser bouncing or their 10 yearold car not making it to the track meet. Basically, I often feel like a 19 year old, in the body of a 35 year old woman. (Bet my husband wishes he could reverse those two).
I keep waiting for the day that I wake up feeling, magically, like an adult and not someone just pretending. (Hopefully that will happen sometime before I’m wearing adult diapers.)

Running away? At least she has a plan.

May 10, 2007

Reagan just called me.

Reagan: How do you spell “orphanage?”

Me: “O-R-P-H-A-N-A-G-E” I think?

Reagan: Okay, where is the closest one?

Me: Hmm… I don’t know.

Reagan: Okay, I’ll look it up online. Gotta go.

My Boss

May 10, 2007

Bloggers everywhere preach “don’t talk about your work or your employer on your blog.” I have resisted doing so, until now.
I feel I must post about my boss. We spend 40 hours a week together and it is a joy.
However, she has 2 things I am deeply envious of: big boobs and naturally curly hair.* Normally this would be enough to make me dislike her (just joking, sort of) but she has a great quality that makes up for it; she laughs easily. Now that I think about it, that may be the best quality of all. Instead of working on the ABC’s and math when my kids were preschoolers, maybe we should have been watching the “Stooges,” listening to Bill Cosby and reading joke books.

*She also particpated in the Journal Star spelling bee in middle school, whereas I never made it past runner-up for my class. Oh, the jealousy.

Laughing in the face of a one armed man.

May 9, 2007

This is the story I really wanted to tell at my friend Laura’s wedding last summer as a part of my matron-of-honor duties: (but she wouldn’t let me)

Running errands one day with Laura, we saw a very large woman wearing very shiny red spandex pants; next we got a flu shot at a pharmacy decorated with what appeared to be bongs. Laughing over the small oddities we ran into a video store, picked out our movies and heading towards the counter, passed a one armed man. Laura started laughing, hysterically… in the face of the one armed man. Embarrassed, abandoning the movies, I drug her out of the store. Outside, still laughing, she said “did you see that guy’s package? It’s like he had a sock stuffed in there!!”