My daughter gave me a new broom and long-handled dustpan for Christmas. A very practical gift, as my back objects to using a typical dustpan, and my daughter objects to being the dustpan holder. (I always hated that job when I was a kid, too!) Practical, because at any time, I may ...no...WILL be facing this.
As a general rule, I sweep the kitchen floor after the babies are in bed for the night and the dishes are done. So, this, folks...this combination of Corn Chex, Apple Jacks, Cheerios, bread crumbs, and who-knows-what-else...is one morning's worth of dirt. On my kitchen floor. That I crunch. Every time I take a step.
But it gets worse.
I have Cheerios in my Christmas tree! And under my piano. And in my couch cushions, furnace registers, laundry baskets, shoes...
Rabbits! They should have named them RABBITS!
And to top it all off...I went to Walmart this morning - with no list - to buy a new vacuum cleaner, because my old one died. The minute I walked in the house, I remembered what I had forgotten to buy at Walmart.
GAAAAAAAH!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
A Torturistic Ritual I Insist Must Happen Annually
If you think that it's easy to get 6 kids properly aligned with the stars at just the precise moment you need them to be, wearing semi-matching clothes, sporting semi-respectable hairstyles, and semi-smiling simultaneously...
Find another blog to read! One that's written by a Non-crazed Mother!
At ten bucks per person for a sitting fee, even the local Walmart studio would cost me a minimum $60, just to walk in the door. Tack on the price of the photos, all the extras they guilt me into purchasing, plus the ones that actually ARE adorable and I've just plunked down the equivalent of what's left in gold at Fort Knox. (Scratch that...the politicians spent it on their mistresses.) Regardless, large families and photography studios for a one-income-earner family in a bad economy just don't mix. Then, you add in the hilarity of trying to get a child with Angelman Syndrome to co-operate with his annoyed-at-having-to-dress-up siblings and keep his hands out of the baby's hair while being gripped around the neck by the three year old...
Just. Ain't. Happening.
So, to make up for all these issues, once a year, I tell the kids what color to pull out of the dresser drawer (or pick up from the floor, depending on the child in question). They groan. It's simultaneous! Why can't the smiles be like that?!? I make sure the camera batteries are charged - this project usually takes a while, and I'm not about to let a little thing like dead batteries cause me to have to start over! Tom dons his armor, and collects a significant amount of noisy toys and other paraphernalia that may prove useful in distracting and/or attracting attention, deflecting flying shoes, and removing embedded articles from walls, Christmas trees, and heads.
Following below, in no particular order, are the results of this group effort. Individual photos are in order, oldest to youngest.
I need a good stiff drink, thank you!
The best shot of the day...we'll take it.
Bucky, trying to convince everyone of a job well done. Emphasis on DONE. Tiffany, praticing mid-air River Dance moves.
Bucky, posing goofy, since we're NOT done, while Tiffany tries to clean Dylan's ears.
Dylan, whining because Preston is enforcing Mom's "Keep Dylan's socks out of this picture" request.
Bucky, catching Tiffany as she decides she can't stand the pressure and will be in her trailer! Preston is apparently considering growing a mustache for those thoughtful, yet fun-loving moments when one pauses to stroke the upper lip.
All children are in various stages of recovery, following Tiffany's foot connecting with Dylan's cranium. He only required 97 stitches and a sidestop at Sonic Happy Hour for 1/2 price slushies.
Preston, nearly 18
Bucky, 16.5
Gabe, 15
Savannah, 12.5
Dylan, nearly 4
Tiffany, 17 months
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Find another blog to read! One that's written by a Non-crazed Mother!
At ten bucks per person for a sitting fee, even the local Walmart studio would cost me a minimum $60, just to walk in the door. Tack on the price of the photos, all the extras they guilt me into purchasing, plus the ones that actually ARE adorable and I've just plunked down the equivalent of what's left in gold at Fort Knox. (Scratch that...the politicians spent it on their mistresses.) Regardless, large families and photography studios for a one-income-earner family in a bad economy just don't mix. Then, you add in the hilarity of trying to get a child with Angelman Syndrome to co-operate with his annoyed-at-having-to-dress-up siblings and keep his hands out of the baby's hair while being gripped around the neck by the three year old...
Just. Ain't. Happening.
So, to make up for all these issues, once a year, I tell the kids what color to pull out of the dresser drawer (or pick up from the floor, depending on the child in question). They groan. It's simultaneous! Why can't the smiles be like that?!? I make sure the camera batteries are charged - this project usually takes a while, and I'm not about to let a little thing like dead batteries cause me to have to start over! Tom dons his armor, and collects a significant amount of noisy toys and other paraphernalia that may prove useful in distracting and/or attracting attention, deflecting flying shoes, and removing embedded articles from walls, Christmas trees, and heads.
Following below, in no particular order, are the results of this group effort. Individual photos are in order, oldest to youngest.
I need a good stiff drink, thank you!
The best shot of the day...we'll take it.
Bucky, trying to convince everyone of a job well done. Emphasis on DONE. Tiffany, praticing mid-air River Dance moves.
Bucky, posing goofy, since we're NOT done, while Tiffany tries to clean Dylan's ears.
Dylan, whining because Preston is enforcing Mom's "Keep Dylan's socks out of this picture" request.
Bucky, catching Tiffany as she decides she can't stand the pressure and will be in her trailer! Preston is apparently considering growing a mustache for those thoughtful, yet fun-loving moments when one pauses to stroke the upper lip.
All children are in various stages of recovery, following Tiffany's foot connecting with Dylan's cranium. He only required 97 stitches and a sidestop at Sonic Happy Hour for 1/2 price slushies.
Preston, nearly 18
Bucky, 16.5
Gabe, 15
Savannah, 12.5
Dylan, nearly 4
Tiffany, 17 months
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Illogical categories:
Angelman Syndrome,
Christmas,
DollarsandCents,
Embrace the Insanity,
Family,
Help Me,
Kids,
Life with a Special Needs Child,
Look What I Did
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
I Know I'm Petty, But...
Could SOMEone please explain to me WHY Facebook status updates like "So-and-So is off to watch TV!!!!!" (buy groceries, cook dinner, flush the toilet - you get the point) get a bazillion exclamation points and 27,000 people "liking" it?!?
What is so stinkin' awesome about Sally Somebody going about her everyday activities? Do I know the only 3 people in the world who can come up with something interesting, hilarious, disturbing or challenging? Granted, I don't have 8,439 friends. My requirement for approving friend requests is that I actually know you, spend time with you, used to spend time with you and now don't due to life's circumstances, or attend some type of church/school/community activity with you. Maybe if I approved every person that ever lived, thought about living, or has still-living relatives, I could find someone with a life more interesting than the local real estate transfer log!
Worse - the people who "like" the boring activities! What?!? Can't you cook? Don't you shop? Never heard of coupon clipping? Darn it, people! Get lives! Read a book! Go skiing! Spend an afternoon on the Elderly Bench in Main Action Alley at Walmart! (Yes, there IS such a name. Gag.) Volunteer to wash windows at the local jail! Do SOMEthing, so you don't think your best friend from first grade is so dang great because she remembers how to blow her nose! (Unless she's had a stroke, in which case, great for her that she's recovered that important skill...it's ever so much better than using her sleeve, but do you REALLY believe that she had a stroke and forgot how to blow her nose but she is at Astounding Tutoring Farmer level in Farmville? You're so gullible!)
And what's with the church-sign mentality for status updates? ACK! If I want a Cotton-Candied Positive, Morally Uplifting, Spiritually Emotional, Biblically-Inaccurate, Intelligence-Devoid bit of Drivel, I'll drive by 94% of the churches in my county and pick my favorite. (Or listen to any number of popular televangelists, but we won't go there tonight - I don't want to lose my supper.)
And don't you DARE tell me what you're cooking for dinner! I Do. Not. Care. that you're considered the greatest chef since Teflon came along...feed your family. Leave us out of the meal planning! We all know you eat......
Geez, people! Watch a movie, and write down a funny line you hear. Quote it as your status. Not only will it make you appear funnier than you are - it will make people wonder what drug you just ingested.
What is so stinkin' awesome about Sally Somebody going about her everyday activities? Do I know the only 3 people in the world who can come up with something interesting, hilarious, disturbing or challenging? Granted, I don't have 8,439 friends. My requirement for approving friend requests is that I actually know you, spend time with you, used to spend time with you and now don't due to life's circumstances, or attend some type of church/school/community activity with you. Maybe if I approved every person that ever lived, thought about living, or has still-living relatives, I could find someone with a life more interesting than the local real estate transfer log!
Worse - the people who "like" the boring activities! What?!? Can't you cook? Don't you shop? Never heard of coupon clipping? Darn it, people! Get lives! Read a book! Go skiing! Spend an afternoon on the Elderly Bench in Main Action Alley at Walmart! (Yes, there IS such a name. Gag.) Volunteer to wash windows at the local jail! Do SOMEthing, so you don't think your best friend from first grade is so dang great because she remembers how to blow her nose! (Unless she's had a stroke, in which case, great for her that she's recovered that important skill...it's ever so much better than using her sleeve, but do you REALLY believe that she had a stroke and forgot how to blow her nose but she is at Astounding Tutoring Farmer level in Farmville? You're so gullible!)
And what's with the church-sign mentality for status updates? ACK! If I want a Cotton-Candied Positive, Morally Uplifting, Spiritually Emotional, Biblically-Inaccurate, Intelligence-Devoid bit of Drivel, I'll drive by 94% of the churches in my county and pick my favorite. (Or listen to any number of popular televangelists, but we won't go there tonight - I don't want to lose my supper.)
And don't you DARE tell me what you're cooking for dinner! I Do. Not. Care. that you're considered the greatest chef since Teflon came along...feed your family. Leave us out of the meal planning! We all know you eat......
Geez, people! Watch a movie, and write down a funny line you hear. Quote it as your status. Not only will it make you appear funnier than you are - it will make people wonder what drug you just ingested.
Illogical categories:
Advice Unsolicited,
Being Me,
Church signs,
Help Me,
Peeves,
Random Nothingness,
She's Lost It,
Thinking Out Loud
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Quiet, Please
Our television is on way more than I'd like for it to be. Actually, I'd dearly love to toss it to the curb.
In trying to get Dylan to remember where the volume button is located, I taught him to start at the far right button and count over three. (That's the DOWN button, as the only time we need the UP button is when a train is going by the house.)
I just overheard him saying "One, two, three" and miraculously, Bob the Tomato is no longer bellerin' into my living room about Larry the Cucumber's poor choices.
Encouragement that not everything I've done lately is a screw up.
- Image from google
In trying to get Dylan to remember where the volume button is located, I taught him to start at the far right button and count over three. (That's the DOWN button, as the only time we need the UP button is when a train is going by the house.)
I just overheard him saying "One, two, three" and miraculously, Bob the Tomato is no longer bellerin' into my living room about Larry the Cucumber's poor choices.
Encouragement that not everything I've done lately is a screw up.
- Image from google
Illogical categories:
Being Me,
Google Images,
Homeschooling,
Kids,
Mister D,
Telling on Myself
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Peach Cobbler
No clue where my sister found this recipe, but it's really good, and quick. I like fast and easy.
Layer into a 9x13 greased pan, in order:
Peaches - 1 large and 1 small can, with juice
Butter pecan cake mix (just the mix, not the extra ingredients)
1 stick of melted butter
Coconut - however much you like
Pecans or walnuts - however much you like
Bake at 350 for about 40 minutes. (My oven is wishy-washy, so check it at 30.) ;-)
Toss a little flour at your nose so you look industrious.
Layer into a 9x13 greased pan, in order:
Peaches - 1 large and 1 small can, with juice
Butter pecan cake mix (just the mix, not the extra ingredients)
1 stick of melted butter
Coconut - however much you like
Pecans or walnuts - however much you like
Bake at 350 for about 40 minutes. (My oven is wishy-washy, so check it at 30.) ;-)
Toss a little flour at your nose so you look industrious.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Do Age and Gravity Mess With These, Too?
I believe the Bible. I believe it is 100% accurate. I believe it is God's word to us. I believe that humans misinterpret it. Often.
Some times, the way things come full circle just cracks me up.
As a setup, please note that I spent my primary school years in a church-run school that sometimes took Scriptures just a wee bit out of context, and when that didn't work, they'd just make stuff up. Well-intentioned, perhaps, but thank goodness I have a brain and can figure this stuff out now!
There were lots of rules, especially about how one was supposed to dress. (Well, let me clarify. Mostly, the rules were about how FEMALES were supposed to dress.) I'm OK with rules, to an extent. I understand that law and order are paramount. I can tolerate minor irritation for the greater good. My parents didn't particularly agree with all the regulations, but they felt the good outweighed the bad.
So -
Monday through Friday, I donned my dress with sleeves below the elbows and length three inches past mid-knee. I was too young for makeup, but that wouldn't have been allowed, anyway. I left my forbidden open-toed shoes in my closet, and tamed my uncut, brunette tresses with Aquanet. Allowed color, automobiles, and running water, we confused some people who thought we were Amish.
Occasionally, we'd ask for the Biblical source of these dress standards.
On why women shouldn't cut their hair - "A woman's hair is her glory" 1 Corinthians 11:15 (King James Version) But if a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her: for her hair is given her for a covering.
On why women shouldn't wear pants - "Women shouldn't wear men's clothing" Deuteronomy 22:5 (King James Version) The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's garment: for all that do so are abomination unto the LORD thy God.
On why jewelry wasn't allowed - "Women don't need jewelry to be beautiful" 1 Timothy 2:9-10 (King James Version) In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with broided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array; But (which becometh women professing godliness) with good works.
My arguments against this rationale fell on deaf ears.
"If a woman's hair is her glory, then why do you twist yours up in a knot on the top of your head so no one can see how long it is?"
"Back in Bible times, I thought men wore long robes."
"Why is a strand of fake pearls around my neck bad, but you can wear the same kind on a barrette on your knotted head?"
All of those verses, when read in context, are logical. When used to validate the edicts...eh...not so much.
Remember I mentioned that if a Bible verse justifying an ordinance couldn't be found, things were just made up? Here's where it turns comical.
One of the tidbits that was shared along the way was the reasoning (?!?) behind the necessity of sleeves covering elbows. Apparently, elbows make men think about breasts.
There are verses in the Bible about breasts. Lots about sexuality, both proper and improper. Men's thoughts are mentioned a few times. But no where do I recall reading about elbows. It could be mentioned in Song of Solomon, I suppose, since he mentions just about every other body part. As beautifully gifted as he was with poetry, I'm not sure he would include elbows and breasts in the same sentence.
Over the years, I've conducted research. I've plunked my elbows on the table and asked people "What do these look like?" The eye-rolling and chortling that follow the explanation grows funnier the more I age.
But about that full circle thing I opened this post with...
Actually, I thought the breast-elbow connection was complete hogwash. Until my three year old son confirmed it.
Headed to the shower recently, I was holding the clothing I intended to wear for the day, including a particular undergarment worn on the upper portion of the female anatomy. Nothing slips by Dylan, and even though it was partially covered by my jeans and t-shirt, his vision honed right in.
"Hey Mom, are you gonna wear that on your elbows?"
Some times, the way things come full circle just cracks me up.
As a setup, please note that I spent my primary school years in a church-run school that sometimes took Scriptures just a wee bit out of context, and when that didn't work, they'd just make stuff up. Well-intentioned, perhaps, but thank goodness I have a brain and can figure this stuff out now!
There were lots of rules, especially about how one was supposed to dress. (Well, let me clarify. Mostly, the rules were about how FEMALES were supposed to dress.) I'm OK with rules, to an extent. I understand that law and order are paramount. I can tolerate minor irritation for the greater good. My parents didn't particularly agree with all the regulations, but they felt the good outweighed the bad.
So -
Monday through Friday, I donned my dress with sleeves below the elbows and length three inches past mid-knee. I was too young for makeup, but that wouldn't have been allowed, anyway. I left my forbidden open-toed shoes in my closet, and tamed my uncut, brunette tresses with Aquanet. Allowed color, automobiles, and running water, we confused some people who thought we were Amish.
Occasionally, we'd ask for the Biblical source of these dress standards.
On why women shouldn't cut their hair - "A woman's hair is her glory" 1 Corinthians 11:15 (King James Version) But if a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her: for her hair is given her for a covering.
On why women shouldn't wear pants - "Women shouldn't wear men's clothing" Deuteronomy 22:5 (King James Version) The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's garment: for all that do so are abomination unto the LORD thy God.
On why jewelry wasn't allowed - "Women don't need jewelry to be beautiful" 1 Timothy 2:9-10 (King James Version) In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with broided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array; But (which becometh women professing godliness) with good works.
My arguments against this rationale fell on deaf ears.
"If a woman's hair is her glory, then why do you twist yours up in a knot on the top of your head so no one can see how long it is?"
"Back in Bible times, I thought men wore long robes."
"Why is a strand of fake pearls around my neck bad, but you can wear the same kind on a barrette on your knotted head?"
All of those verses, when read in context, are logical. When used to validate the edicts...eh...not so much.
Remember I mentioned that if a Bible verse justifying an ordinance couldn't be found, things were just made up? Here's where it turns comical.
One of the tidbits that was shared along the way was the reasoning (?!?) behind the necessity of sleeves covering elbows. Apparently, elbows make men think about breasts.
There are verses in the Bible about breasts. Lots about sexuality, both proper and improper. Men's thoughts are mentioned a few times. But no where do I recall reading about elbows. It could be mentioned in Song of Solomon, I suppose, since he mentions just about every other body part. As beautifully gifted as he was with poetry, I'm not sure he would include elbows and breasts in the same sentence.
Over the years, I've conducted research. I've plunked my elbows on the table and asked people "What do these look like?" The eye-rolling and chortling that follow the explanation grows funnier the more I age.
But about that full circle thing I opened this post with...
Actually, I thought the breast-elbow connection was complete hogwash. Until my three year old son confirmed it.
Headed to the shower recently, I was holding the clothing I intended to wear for the day, including a particular undergarment worn on the upper portion of the female anatomy. Nothing slips by Dylan, and even though it was partially covered by my jeans and t-shirt, his vision honed right in.
"Hey Mom, are you gonna wear that on your elbows?"
Illogical categories:
Being Me,
Embrace the Insanity,
Mister D,
Telling on Myself,
What Does the Bible Say
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)