Last night on Nate's blog, he posted a heart-warming little story he wrote based on a keyword search that had led someone to his blog. Based on that, I checked over at statcounter for some keywords people used to end up here at This Is What I Do.
Definitely the best, though most disturbing phrase, was, "embedded iud removal photos". Now, the "embedded IUD removal" part I can see. Maybe you're in med school, and want to know how this is done. Maybe you fear your own IUD is embedded in your uterus, and want to see what your options are for removal. It's the PHOTOS part that creeps me out. That someone wants to see exactly what an embedded IUD looks like, and what it looks like when someone is removing one. Ewww.
So, whoever searched for photos of embedded IUD removal and ended up on my blog, I'm sorry to disappoint you. But I did have a photo of that kick-ass knitted uterus. That must be worth something.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Last night on Nate's blog, he posted a heart-warming little story he wrote based on a keyword search that had led someone to his blog. Based on that, I checked over at statcounter for some keywords people used to end up here at This Is What I Do.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
...I give you a cartoon series I found today on one of my Autism lists. It's a lot more funny if you have a kid with Autism, as parents of kids with Autism are probably the only people who talk about poop more than young boys do.
I read the first 53 comics in one sitting, and it was so much like my life three years ago. Hutton's first "word" in sign language was also "more," which he did when he wanted more food or more pushes on the swing. It's amazing to realize how far he's come since that point. He now talks using his voice, doesn't flap his hands or walk on his toes. He still has some definite delays and behavioral problems, but he continues to impress me with something new every day. This morning it was when he came upstairs to say, "Harrison, come downstairs and eat lunch with me, please." Considering he didn't speak at age two, that sentence thrilled me!
Monday, September 25, 2006
I should have read this yesterday morning, but since it wasn't written yet...
If you decide to dye your hair for whatever reason -- to cover gray, get your sunbleached ends to match your darker roots, just for shits and giggles -- think twice before asking your five-year-old which color he thinks matches Mommy's hair.
No, you should go with your gut instinct, telling you that "French Roast" will give your hair just a little oomph. No, you're not drawn to "French Roast" just because the name makes you think of coffee. It's really the best color for you.
But wait, what was your five-your-old saying? He likes "Brilliant Bordeaux". Well, hey, that looks pretty nice, too. A nice auburn color. No, no, please don't read the box where it says that it adds, "Gold, red, copper, MAHOGANY, and/or auburn tones."
No, your son says he likes "Brilliant Bordeaux," so that's what you should get. And when your hair looks kinda PURPLISH reddish brown after you dye it, well, hey! What do you want! You took hair color advice from a five-year-old boy!
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Yesterday afternoon, I sat down to watch TV and discovered, to my HORROR, that that evil bitch, TiVo, had neglected to record the season premieres of not one, but two shows on Thursday night. That's right. Neither The Office, nor Grey's Anatomy was waiting for me to hit play and enjoy my afternoon. So, I angrily deleted the channels we don't get from the satellite feed for the umpteenth time. This is the reason TiVo failed to record my shows - it was too busy recording Grey's Anatomy from the satellite feed we don't get to record the channel it was set up to record the show on. Grrr. I don't know why it didn't record The Office. Just being spiteful, I suppose. That bitch.
Ok, I realize TiVo isn't a person, and you may think it's incapable of doing these things on its own, but I know. Oh, I'm onto you, TiVo! You'll rue the day you messed with me!
Anyway, after dinner, and before the boys' bath time, I decided to see what else TiVo had recorded recently. I had set it up to record The Manchurian Candidate, which it had actually succeeded in doing, but since Harrison was in the room playing, I thought I'd go for something a little lighter. I noticed Zoolander from a few days back, and decided to watch that instead. Then, after the boys' baths and putting them to bed, I watched The Manchurian Candidate.
As I was watching TMC, I came to the realization that both of the movies I'd chosen to watch were about brainwashing. More specifically, brainwashing with the intent of political assassination. Wow, that's a weird coincidence, I thought.
Afterwards, I continued comparing the films. Zoolander was funny. (No, really, it was. I loved Jon Voigt as his father, "I'm not a professional film and television actor. Goddamn it Derek, I'm a coal miner!" in the coal area of New Jersey, no less. And the Merman commercial. And the gas fight to "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.") TMC was a drama. But other than that, they had a lot of similarities. Let's see, both leading men were brainwashed in a political intrigue involving Asian countries. Both movies featured characters who didn't like the main characters coming to their rescue. Both leading men had a dead parent. Both leading men had no sense of humor, but told a single joke and felt immensely proud of themselves for doing so. Both featured the deaths of innocent characters. And both of the villains were spectacularly bitchy - Angela Lansbury in TMC, and hilarious Will Farrell in Zoolander. Mugatu's hair and beard, and his matching poodle - priceless!
Well, I forgot the rest of my oh-so-brilliant comparisons. Time to get the boys in bed. I've wasted several hours trying to find free downloads of my missed shows -- DAMN YOU, TiVo! -- and will have to cave in and pay to download them. Hubby is not at all sympathetic. He's so above TV now, he has proclaimed The Sopranos as the only TV show he cares about. Hmmpf.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
My friend Amy sent me this link today. It's the Archive of Misheard Song Lyrics. We've all done it. There are some really funny ones on here. Unfortunately, I started reading this when I should have been getting dressed to go to a class at the gym. So, now I'll continue to be out of shape, but at least I'll be entertained. Yes, I know I could still go the gym, but I hate just working out. I need to take a class to stay motivated. I'm lame that way. And if I go now, I'll be really hungry for lunch and won't be able to focus. I'm a very good rationalizer, aren't I?
My fave misheard lyric so far:
Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name" sung as "Bingo was his name-o." Yeah, that's what Zack had in mind. He was singing the children's favorite right up to the end when he starts screaming out, "Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!" Yeah, fuck off, Bingo!
My own misheard lyrics from childhood are mostly from the Eagles. Yeah, they didn't e-nun-ci-ate very well. Let's see there was, "Lion Eyes" about a woman with a big mane of hair and glowing, bright green eyes trying to hide under the bed. Hey, I was four. I didn't know lions had more amber colored eyes, and they didn't glow. Fortunately, I wasn't really listening well to a song about a gold-digger cheating on her old man. Also from that era, there was, "Take it to the Liver." The full chorus goes, "Pussy on the highway/And show it a sign/And take it to the liver/One more time..." This one involved a cat walking down the street, being shown the sign to where the deli package of liver was waiting for it. Again, I was four. When I was older I became a better listener, though I still thought "Heartache Tonight"
was "Party Tonight" for a while.
So, there you have it. Now, go waste some time. And remember, "I live for all the ugly people." That's from The Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby" if you didn't know.
EDIT: I almost forgot one of the best misheard lyrics, EVER! My friend, Kelly, from college told us that when she was little, she thought the chorus to Journey's "Open Arms" went as follows. Instead of, "And now I come to you/With open arms..." she always sang it as, "Gol Stan Bee/Gol Stan Baaa." Yes, we all gave her lots of crap about the fact that these weren't even words. I mean, the fact that I still remember these misheard lyrics should say something. On the other hand, it's not like The Police's song "De Do Do Do" means much, either.
Friday, September 22, 2006
I just happened to be at Toys R Us on Tuesday, when they released the exciting new TMX - Tickle Me Elmo Ten. I, of course, HAD to buy one..."for the kids."
I still have it sealed in the TOP SECRET box, which features Elmo saying, "No Peeking!" when you open the flap. I'm going to attempt to wait until Christmas. Either that or sell it on ebay if things get all crazy Cabbage Patch/Elmo I.
The YouTube clip of this crazy, hysterical Elmo is pretty damn funny. I love the dog.
(Allie - Thanks for the tip! Never noticed that before! I was doing thing the hard way, even before beta.)
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
made the mistake had the great pleasure of commenting on Morgen's blog today, and was tagged with his very own movie meme.
So, here you go. And, Allie and Matt-Man, Morgen told me that you two are next. I must do what my master bids me! Get to work and post back in my comments when you've done your work. Matt-Man, I think I'm just reminding you of what you already know, right?
1. The last movie you saw in a theatre, and current-release movie you still want to see. Uh, I saw part of Cars this summer with my sister and her younger son and my boys. We left halfway through because 2 out of 3 children were bored, and 2 out of 2 adults, as well. I'm sure it will be fine on DVD when we can skip the boring parts! Hard to watch a movie when your children are walking up and down the steps a million times. The current release is hard. I don't really know anything about the newer films out. Once I stopped subscribing to EW and had kids, I seemed to lose track of movies. Based on what's playing at my local theaters, I'd probably go for Little Miss Sunshine. But, whenever I think about going to the theater and realize that for what I pay for my tickets and a small drink I could rent a lot of movies, or buy them, or get them off of Peerflix, I usually decide to wait for the DVD.
2. The last movie you rented/purchased for home viewing.
V for Vendetta. I haven't watched it yet. I got it off of Peerflix, which I joined a week ago. So far I like Peerflix, but if you want to keep a DVD, it seems a shame to not have the original case and artwork.
3. A movie that made you laugh out loud.
The last one I can think of is The 40-Year-Old-Virgin. I always think of the line, "If I hear 'Yah Mo B There' one more time..." and chuckle.
4. A movie that made you cry.
There are plenty of these! The first one that comes to mind is the obvious Steel Magnolias. That and Forest Gump are some real snot-inducing movies, though there are lots more. Though I'm not as bad as my high school bud, Sharling, who cried during Bird on a Wire. My friend Alex and I enjoyed ribbing her about that for a long time afterward.
5. A movie that was a darling of the critics, but you didn't think lived up to the hype.
Lost in Translation. Yeah, I know. I'm a Philistine. But Hubby and I just kept exchanging "the look" during this one. The look meaning, "What the hell? Why is this boring-ass movie so popular and beloved?" I mean, even Hubby, who LOVES Bill Murray didn't like him in this. It started out cute with the Japanese beer commercial part, but lost steam fast.
6. A movie that you thought was better than the critics.
This is hard because I never read movie reviews anymore. Allie's excluded, of course. Hmm, how about Mr. and Mrs. Smith. I watched it the other day and found it highly entertaining. I'm sure it didn't win over many critics, though, and got lots of Brad and Angie hate going since it broke up Brad and Jen.
7. Favorite animated movie. Another hard one, since 90 percent of what I watch now is animated. I think I'll go for Toy Story, just because it was such a huge thing when it came out, and I can still watch it and enjoy it, even though I've seen it many, many times.
8. Favorite Disney Villain.
I'll agree with Morgen here and go for Ursula from The Little Mermaid. I love all of her scenes, though her final moment seems very painful.
9. Favorite movie musical.
I'll go with The Sound of Music. I didn't see this until I was 11 or 12, but I was spellbound by it. I loved the scenery, the songs, the story, and I still do. When I first saw it, I left my neighbor's house with a crush on Nazi Rolf, Friedrich AND Captain von Trapp. Now I'd say I really only like Captain von Trapp. Edit: Also a big Singing in the Rain fan. Oh, and A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. Haven't watched that one in a while.
10. Favorite movies of all-time (up to five).
Hard, hard, hard! I have no memory anymore, you know!
The Princess Bride - great lines, Cary Elwes looking yummy, Princess Buttercup...I still get teary when I think of the last scene, when the grandfather leaves and says, "As you wish."
Gone With the Wind Love the actors and actresses in this, and seeing Scarlett develop a sort of soul.
Stand By Me I LOVED this movie as a 12 and 13 year old, and still think that I'd love it today, though I haven't seen it in a while. I used to "watch" it scrambled on Pay Per View when I wasn't watching it at my friend Abi's house on video. I still remember a few lines: "Shut up!" "I don't shut up, I grow up, and when I look at you I throw up." "And then your mother goes around the corner and she licks it up!" That exchange, plus the classic, "Suck my fat one, you cheap, dimestore hood!" That said, this movie still makes me tear up, too, when I recall the final scene.
EDIT: Remembered two more:
Pulp Fiction Another great film with wonderful lines, characters, violence, humor, dancing...everything you can ask for in a movie.
A Room with a View Ah, this makes me swoon, thinking of George kissing Lucy in the field. Though, The Last of the Mohicans almost makes the top 5. Daniel Day-Lewis makes me feel all funny, like when I used to climb the rope in gym class [yes, I was only girl who could climb the rope in gym class. This is spite of having to take COPE class/remedial PE]. Beautiful scenery in both of these, too.
*** Tag five bloggers to answer the movie meme:
Uh, not so much. Other bloggers don't usually play along with me. Could be because only 2 or 3 other bloggers ever stop by. Whine: I just want to be popular! Please come visit every once in a while. Sob, sob. No, I'll be OK.
Tagees: when you've completed your answers on your blog, come back here & leave a comment so we can all check out your movie picks! And when you post the meme on your site, include a link to MORGEN. Thanks!
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
I wath lithening
to tha radio today
when I heard "Thai Coup"
Saturday, September 16, 2006
If your doctor gave you really bad advice, and it sounded crazy, would you take the advice, or maybe sleep on it for a night or two?
This guy apparently really trusts his doctor. Oh, OK, witchdoctor. Same thing, right?
And I love the part about, "The animal was apparently unhurt". Well, physically maybe, but psychologically? "He said he loved me! And now he acts like I'm the one who hurt him!"
The Quotation of the Day on the sidebar by W. Somerset Maugham is really good today. Well, I didn't write it down, and now it's gone. So, here's this one from him instead: "Only a mediocre person is always at his best."
Friday, September 15, 2006
The other day on Allie's blog, Allie said in her comment about my comment that I should post about this, so here it is:
On Tuesday, I saw this article about mutilated stingrays being found on Australian beaches, as "payback" for the death of beloved Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin. I didn't get around to posting about it, then saw Allie's post on Wednesday. So below is my contribution to the whole "let's get even with the stingrays" idea.
Many people do not know this, but I have heard that the stingrays had been planning this attack on Steve Irwin for YEARS! That's right. Stingrays have been anti-Steve ever since they were alerted to his existence by saltwater crocodiles. As soon as the stingrays found out about Steve's whole "conservation" gimmick and his extensive use of the exclamation, "Crikey!", they realized this goes against everything they as stingrays believe. (I don't want to get into the whole thing, but if you read the Stingray Manifesto, you can find out what the stingrays believe.) So, with the help of some saltwater crocodiles, a select group of stingrays made their way to caves in Afghanistan, where they lived and trained with Osama Bin Laden. As you can see, the stingrays are terrorists, and this stingray backlash is totally deserved.
However, it has also come to my attention that sea turtles are also evil, and attempting to take over the world. Along with the saltwater crocodile, they have the whole reptilian ability to live in water and on land, and are therefore set for TOTAL WORLD DOMINATION. Unlike the crocodiles, the sea turtles have managed to fool many into thinking they are peaceful creatures, which only helps their cause, as their human pawns help conserve their nesting grounds and try to prevent their destruction. But, as you can see, we must end the terrorism of the seas, and if we have to kill everything in the ocean, so be it. Though the stingrays killed Steve Irwin, we mustn't get distracted just killing them. No, we must make this an all out war on terrorism, and go after the sea turtles, too. If we allow the sea turtles to continue their rapid reproduction, they will fan out to spread the hatred. Whales and porpoises are bound to be next to jump on board the terrorism bandwagon, and if the penguins and adorable baby seals get wind of this...oh, I can only imagine what would happen!
Remember Steve Irwin, and do your part to stop the cycle of terror.
Doo da doo...
Today, as I was helping Hutton with his homework, (thank God it's only a weekly thing!) I lost my patience at least a dozen times. I will NEVER, I repeat, NEVER homeschool my children because we'd all be in bad shape. Before Hutton, I once thought I could have been a teacher. I was a camp counselor one summer, and realized that the 11 and 12-year-old boys were fine, if immature. The girls, on the other hand, were BITCHES. I was never a bitch until I became an adult, so I was a bit surprised by how bitchy those adolescent girls could be! I watched a Dateline last night on the subject of mean girls. I'm feeling a bit relieved I have boys!
Anyway, I am a horrible teacher. All Hutton had to do was fill in a worksheet on the lowercase letter a, involving tracing the letter, then freehanding 3 of them. The tracing was fine. The freehand was not. "Hutton, you have to stay below the dotted line. It's a lowercase letter. No, don't go that way, circle around the other way. Around and down. Around and down. AROUND AND DOWN! Stay BELOW THE DOTTED LINE! SWEET JESUS, SAVE ME FROM THIS HELL!" Yeah, if I were a teacher, I'd be fired pretty quickly.
That said, there is definitely a problem with our schools, and I'm obviously not going to be of any help fixing the problem. Our kids really aren't learning in school. Let me give you another example.
This afternoon, I went to the local Jo-Ann store to return the suckiest knitting needles ever. (The other night, while watching a movie, I decided to knit so I wouldn't just waste time watching a movie. I like to multi-task, see. So, as soon as I picked up these bargain needles, they broke. The little plastic cord came off the needle part on one side, then on the other. I had not even started knitting yet. Jeez. I attempted to knit with them, replacing the cord every two seconds, then finally gave up.) So, since these were defective needles, I assumed I could return them to the store without a receipt. They were Jo-Ann brand, after all.
I head to the store. There is no one at the front counter, so I look around for a few minutes until a teenage girl appears and asks me if she can help me. I tell her I'd like to return the needles, as they were broken, but I don't have a receipt. She immediately looks like a deer in the headlights, and calls for back-up. The old biddy who comes to take over tells me that she can only give me a replacement of the same item since I don't have a receipt. I tell her since the needles are defective, I'd rather have a store credit so I can buy some better quality needles. She then tells me that I'll have to accept 40% off of the original purchase price as my credit, since that's store policy. (Jo-Ann routinely mails out 40% off store coupons, so I guess they assume anyone who shops there will have only paid 60% of the retail price.) I'm fine with that. These were really cheap needles anyway. You get what you pay for, right? So, Old Biddy leaves, and Teenage Girl is left to give me a store credit for 40% off of the original price.
TG: "Oh gosh, I hate math! 40% off of x. Hmm."
Me, doing the math in my head: "Well, 10% of x is y, so if you multiply that by 4..."
TG, getting calculator: "Uh, 40% of x..."
Me: "Multiply x by .40. Then subtract that from x."
TG: "Multiply by..." Puzzled look. "Ok, that's y." [No, it's not y, but hey, if you're going to manage to mess up a simple equation while using a calculator, and it's in my favor by 50 cents, I'm going to take it and just call it a stupidity tax.]
Finally, I get my very small store credit on a Jo-Ann Gift Card, then go off to find some better needles.
I return to the counter, along with 3 other customers. Again, nobody is at the counter to help. I yell, "HELLO!" a few times to get TG back up to front.
So, what did I learn from this? The teenage girl really does hate math, and as such is not really cut out to work at a store that doesn't do everything by computer. Also, that when you buy crappy merchandise, the store guarantee on the package is worth pretty much nothing. Or maybe it's 40% off of nothing. So, what would that be? I never got a reply to the email complaint I sent to Jo-Ann.com Wednesday night, either. Again, you get what you pay for, right?
Driving in my car, before the trip to Jo-Ann, I was listening to NPR. There was news headline that caught my ear: "Fire managers say the Flick Creek fire burned another 275 acres yesterday and has now covered nearly 12 square miles. The fire was started July 26th by a woman burning her diary."
WTF? 12 square miles?! That's a huge f'ing fire. And a woman started it BURNING HER DIARY?!! What, did she go out to the driest field she could find, spread kerosene around, and throw the biggest f'ing diary in the world on top, then torch it? What exactly was in this diary that she had to burn it, anyway? Did she admit to horrible crimes? Hmm, maybe she wrote:
I hate Brad! He's a jerk!
Update: Nevermind! We're back together! Ignore all that stuff I wrote before about Brad.
Oh, also, I'm about to go out and commit arson. I'm going to start a big old fire. You know, there aren't enough out of control wild fires here in Central Washington. There's a big one in Southeastern Washington, but I really want to have the record HERE! But what should I burn? I just don't know.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Today, as I was putting some dirty cat litter in the diaper pail in our garage, I picked up a garbage can that had been knocked over. There was nothing in the can, at least not at first glance. Then I noticed something small, furry and deceased.
I don't know how the mouse died. It was just in the garbage can. I didn't end up buying poison on Sunday. We bought some catch and release traps, instead. (Yes, I'm a classic bleeding heart liberal, even when vermin are concerned!) So far, nothing has taken the bait from the traps. I know that Tully was in the garage briefly this morning, and that one of our dogs was in the garage for a few hours when I took Hutton to speech therapy. So, maybe Tully dispatched the cute little thing? Or Fergus? He's a pretty good hunter when small animals are concerned, as you may remember. The mouse was cute - gray with a white stomach and chest. Oh well. I'm not sad about it. And I won't be sad if the rest of its family joins it dead in the garbage can! I'll have to ask Hubby if he knows anything about this.
Hubby's Take: The cat killed the mouse AND put it in the garbage can for us. He said if this is true, Tully will be getting tuna every night from now on.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Did I say rants?
I came up with most of these last night, when the cat woke me up MEOWWWWWING at 5 a.m. As I stumbled, cursing, down the stairs, and gave the cat her F'ing food, because you know cats must eat at 5 a.m., they can't possibly wait a few more hours, Harrison woke up from the hubbub. So, I had to get him to go back to sleep.
Then I went back to bed, but couldn't sleep for a while. I tossed and turned, and did lots of mental blogging, where I come up with all sorts of things to write about in my head. Things that will be forgotten the next day. I really need to design a brain wave reader, so I can just hook something up to my head on nights like that, and the next day, happily edit what my insomniac brain came up with before it finally gave up and went to sleep.
I remembered that I've been mentally blogging for a long time. I remember in my pre-teen and early teen years, having a running narration in my head as I went about my exciting pre-teen life.
The girl finished brushing her teeth, got dressed, and headed into the kitchen, where she was greeted by her mother. "Good morning!" they said to each other. The girl decided to eat instant oatmeal for breakfast that morning, so got out a bowl and opened the Maple and Brown Sugar oatmeal packet....
Snore. Oh, sorry, did I fall asleep, too?
Anyway, back to the rants.
So, in addition to the cat waking me in the middle of the night (Friday night it was 3 a.m., so it's getting better), I have more rants.
The next one came from reading Greg's blog, in the comment section on this post, where Chris posted, "teachers teach to the tests now, kids don't learn HOW to learn, and we pile on homework that serves mostly to stifle curiosity and interest," and Allie posted that her daughter Natalie already has homework for Kindergarten.
Reading that, I felt my horns coming out. Hutton, too, has homework in his Kindergarten class. Now, I can understand this in theory. The idea is to get the kids used to bringing home their backpacks, and remembering to put their homework back in the backpack to take to school. But, here's the thing. Hutton is in Kindergarten. He has Autism. He doesn't think, "Gosh, I better get my special homework tube out of my backpack and do my homework." He thinks, "Gee, what can I play with now that I'm home from school?" So, guess who gets to be in charge of making sure the homework is taken out, completed, and put back in the backpack? If you guessed, "Laura" or "The Mom" you get a gold star on the homework chart! Oh yeah, I also get to fix the homework tube when it gets broken because Hutton wants to play with it.
And here's another RRRRANT about school. One of his "homework" assignments was to redo an assignment from earlier this week. It was a worksheet that involved coloring two of the peanuts in the picture, then circling them. The worksheet had groups of 2, 3, 4 and 5 peanuts, and apparently when they were teaching this at school, Hutton didn't understand and wanted to color ALL of the peanuts. So, the teacher wrote this on the worksheet and included an extra worksheet for him to practice at home. Again, I can see this in theory. It's good to get extra practice on something the kid doesn't understand at school. But the RRR in rant came out when I thought of it the other way. Here's an idea, why don't you, the teacher, TEACH the child how to do it at, say, SCHOOL.
In addition to Kindergarten, Hutton has 4 hours of speech therapy a week, and 6 hours of ABA therapy. It's not like he's just goofing off all the time at home, and if he were, hey, he's 5 YEARS OLD. They're supposed to be goofing off, playing. That's how they learn.
Which brings me to another rant. This one about Hubby.
Yesterday, Hutton and Harrison were playing with the Stomp Rocket, a very cool toy. The problem was, Hutton kept taking the Stomp Rocket out of the driveway, and moving it to the front walkway, and aiming it for the roof. He'd already done this before, and lost a rocket on the roof, so I told him not to aim for the roof, or the rockets would get stuck on the roof. That was one rule. The other was, not to use the Stomp Rocket inside. We're pretty mellow around here. Not too many rules.
So, after a few minutes (yes, I was sitting reading a magazine, so wasn't really paying attention. I'm not in the running for Mother of the Year, or even Mediocre Mom), Hutton ran up and said, "I need help with the rockets!" and I saw them all on the roof. I got angry and told him, "I've told you 100 times NOT to shoot the rockets on the roof!" As I climbed out my bedroom window, risking bodily harm to retrieve the rockets from the roof, I yelled to Hutton that we were done with the Stomp Rockets for the day. And as I was still cursing under my breath, Hubby asked what was going on. I told him, to which he replied, "That's how kids learn! By doing the things you don't want them to do. Heck, I put stuff on the roof all the time when I was a kid." So, I stormed off downstairs to watch bad tv by myself and let Hubby be the Perfect Father.
Later I took the boys to get their hair cut, and they both got balloons. When we came home, Hutton immediately let the balloons go so they flew up to the top of the stairs where only adults could reach them. I told him I wasn't going to get the balloons for him every time he let them go in the stairwell. Hubby got them for him a few times, then started getting short and told Hutton NOT to let them go in the stairwell again. When he did it again, I told Hubby, "You know, that's how kids learn."
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Today while we were driving home from lunch, listening to Jack FM on the radio, the song "Man in Motion" from the St. Elmo's Fire soundtrack came on as we neared our house. I quickly reminded Hubby that he owned that CD.
"Are you sure? I don't think it's mine."
"Oh, it's yours."
"I remember seeing it on the shelf, but I thought it was yours."
"Nope. I never bought the St. Elmo's Fire soundtrack."
"Maybe it was John's [a friend of his from college]. Or my freshman year roommate's. You know, he had Milli Vanilli, too."*
Hubby was turning a little pink, but was probably thinking I'd buy it. So, as soon as we pulled in, I went to the CD rack and pulled it out (neatly filed in the soundtrack section at the bottom, in alphabetical order.) I was looking at the case when he walked by.
"Well, your initials aren't on the case, so maybe it's not yours after all," I said, opening the case.
"See, I told you!"
"Oh wait, what's this on the CD itself?"
I held up the CD so Hubby could read his initials there in Sharpie, marking St. Elmo's Fire as his very own. It wasn't scarlet Sharpie, but it might as well have been.
*I LIKE Milli Vanilli. They rocked, even if they were fakes. Rob, or Fab, whichever of you died, RIP. Now I have that video image of them dancing stuck in my head. Intermingled with "Man in Motion". Remind me never to write about songs.
I was going to let you have time
to move out of the house
Hey, this rhymes!
The cat shoulda convinced you to dash
But you aren't being so nice
For today in my lovely yarn stash
I found mouse turds, and what is that - rice?
And on the carpet in Harrison's room
That was vacuumed the day before last
Still more of your nuggets of doom
Now I know this is not in the past.
So you're still here in our domicile
Think you can handle a kitty
Well guess what, little vermin, so vile
Soon you're gonna be in shit city.
Cause tomorrow I lay down the law
And it will be a day you will rue
When you find poison stuck in your craw
And are struggling to live in the glue.
Yes, that, er, poetic, heh, interlude was brought to you by our mouse problem. We've now had the cat a week, and today I went into my yarn drawer and found little turds everywhere, along with rice and peanut shells. Well, at least the turds and rice were dry, but still.
After vacuuming those up, I went into Harrison's room. What is this on the carpet? More turds? You've gotta be kidding me! And his closet -- I had an extra changing table pad in there with two holes chewed in it. I threw that in the garage, because I just don't feel like dealing with more vermin-tainted crap tonight.
So, as the kitty snoozes away all cozy upstairs, the mice are apparently moving freely around downstairs. I even moved an extra litter box into the downstairs bathroom to convince the mice to leave, but they seem to be moving deeper into the house instead of out. ARRRGGH! I don't like being outsmarted by tiny little things smaller than my children's feet.
Tomorrow I'm going to get medieval on their asses. Or rather, 21st Century, or the latest version of DCon Mouse Proof I can find, and whatever else the Home Depot has to offer in the way of killing small animals.
Oh, and snaps to www.rhymezone.com I had to rewrite a line that was too corny sounding and it helped me find a good rhyme. Now my poem is perfect. Yeah. Just perfect. Not corny AT ALL.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Today, when I came home from taking Hutton to speech therapy, I came in and didn't see the cat anywhere. I checked the usual places - under Hutton's bed, on Hutton's bed, in my closet. When I went in Hutton's room to recheck, I saw a stuffed tiger had fallen off the shelf. I picked it up to put it back, and noticed a live cat had taken its place. So, I rushed up to get my camera.
It's my very own ET moment.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
...Was a Muslim woman getting into the passenger side of a minivan in the parking lot of Target. (Well, I assume she was Muslim. She was wearing a hijab and a dark skirt on a hot day.) That's not the bizarre part.
The van pulled out in front of us, and the back window featured Winnie the Pooh window decals. Not too odd. Everyone likes Pooh, right?
No, the odd part was the "WWJD?" emblem on the bumper.
Hubby and I both had a laugh over that. We decided the family had bought the car used and didn't know what WWJD? stood for. But we both agreed that Jesus would definitely chauffeur his Muslim friends to Target when necessary. I don't know how this woman's husband would feel about other men, whether they're prophets or not, driving his wife around. I'm assuming she's married, since she was with children.
Yes, I'm making an awful lot of assumptions, but that's easier to do with Muslims. You can pretty much assume they're married if they're with children and wearing a headscarf. If any Muslim women out there want to straighten me out on this, please do so. And explain the WWJD emblem as well. Is this a Muslims for Jesus thing I don't know about?
Bonus for Today:
I did a WWJD search, and this came up: one of my favorite websites ever.
I saw these a long time ago, and had these pictures stored on my computer for a while. In fact, I still do. I LOVE the Jesus playing soccer in his sandals. Tip for Jesus -- even though you're the Son of God and all, don't play against kids in cleats while wearing sandals. Definitely look at all of them. Skiing with Jesus, hockey with Jesus, ballet with Jesus...they're classic! And would make a lovely gift. Hint, hint. Just kidding, I don't have room for more "art" around here.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
And it's a girl!
And also furry.
Here she is:
Tully in the box
Harrison with Tully -- he chose the dayglo pink collar
Why do we have a new cat, when our house is already full with two dogs, two adults, two little boys, and all of our crap? Well, we also have a family of mice living in our house apparently.
Years ago, we got two little kittens, Jaspurr and Purrcy (yes, I know, I know, but they were badass enough to pull off the cutesy names!) who grew up to be great cats. They got along with the dogs, kept vermin out of our house, were very pretty and loving, and also seemed to be coyote magnets. First Jaspurr disappeared a few weeks before Hutton was born. Then, a few years later, Purrcy, who stayed indoors more than this brother, joined Jaspurr "in the country." I missed the cats, but was distracted with the other new members of the family. Namely, Hutton and Harrison. This winter, when I saw a streak of rodent-sized fur run across the garage, I brought up the idea of getting another cat, but we didn't act on it. I just moved the bird seed to a more mouse-proof container and brought my soccer bag into the house instead of leaving it in the garage.
That laissez-faire attitude went out the window last night.
I was getting Hutton out of the tub, and fussed at him for getting lots of water on the floor during his bath. (He likes to pour water along the edge of the tub, and most of it doesn't end up back in the tub.) Anyway, I was soaking up the water with a towel, when I noticed some black specks on the floor. Now, specks on the floor are a regular occurrence around here. I could vacuum every day, and we'd still have dirt on our floors. But these were no ordinary specks. My heart started racing, in classic chic mode, as I realized these were...eek! Mouse turds! I then noticed a mouse-sized hole in the wall next to the toilet water valve, with little bits of insulation on the floor. As chills ran down my spine, I hustled Hutton into his room, then stormed upstairs.
Hands on hips, I angrily announced to Hubby that we had a BIG PROBLEM. He looked at me as if I were there to complain about something stupid -- a TiVo snafu involving a show only I watch or something like that. I explained the entire mouse story. He continued to look at me in the same manner. As I grew increasingly frustrated that he did not understand the monumental problem - vermin in our house, living in our insulation, breeding like, well, mice, leaving TURDS ON THE FLOOR where our children wash! -- Hubby held up his hands in the, "What the hell?" gesture he does quite frequently and said, "What are we supposed to do about it right now? Run out and buy a cat in the middle of the night?!" I was still angry, on my anti-mouse tirade, but calmed a little when I realized he had a point. I guess I had been expecting him to grab a shotgun and go rip the wall out or something. (And yes, I know a shotgun is not the proper tool for killing mice. It seemed like it would be more dramatic, though.)
I put Hutton to bed, though when I was downstairs I was skittish, waiting for a mouse to jump out at me, picturing myself as a housewife on Tom and Jerry wearing a dress, with only my legs in view, shrieking as a mouse simply went about his business, eating his cheese, totally imperturbed.
Later, Hubby (who still seemed to not care about the hole in the wall, allowing free access to our house to the very animal that helped spread the plague) and I went over our options: traps or a cat. Poison was ruled out because of the kids and when a poisoned animal dies in your insulation, it's not very pretty. So, we went for the old-fashioned favorite.
Today we headed to the Humane Society after I didn't see any good prospects on Craig's List. We checked out the kittens, and played with one, but I was drawn in by Tully, the more mature one year plus kitty. Her profile said she's been an alley cat, left behind when her previous owners moved. She'd had kittens, and the neighbors kept her on the porch. She was allegedly a protective mother, and was "good" with dogs and young children. What really won me over was when we were visiting with her in the giant crate area (I'm not kidding. We were actually in an enormous cage with chairs and some cat stuff), she looked eagerly at the rats available for adoption right on the other side of the bars. After we left the crate, she even started climbing the walls by the rats, trying to get to them.
So, we adopted her and brought her home. She was shy to come out of her box, as she knew there were dogs here. We closed the dogs out of the room, and she slowly emerged, then disappeared under a book shelf for several hours. We let the dogs back in the room, and eventually, after Fergus got his nose scratched, they all seemed to settle down. This evening, Tully cruised around the house examining every room very carefully in classic cat style. She's a total sweetheart who loves to get pats and rub against your hand, and she and Sally seem cool with each other. Fergus will probably take longer. I guess the dogs forgot how to live with a cat. The boys find her hilarious. When she was on my desk, they both laughed about the cat on the desk. I'm sure the novelty of that will end soon, as well.
Oh, and Tully was the name she already had. I didn't name her after the coffee, if that's what you're thinking. Though it wouldn't be unheard of. I think Latte would be more feminine, though.
Friday, September 01, 2006
...Though this one is from Thursday.
It's the blog version of the chain letter, though cooler. This actually serves a purpose, not just to give you bad luck for failing to forward it on. I have bad luck from failing to forward many chain letters, both real letters from back in the day, and email, from the past 10 years. I like to blame bad stuff on not sending stupid jokes along. Better that than on my own failings to use my brain.
So, that said, the premise of this post is to fill in the questions, then choose 6 more readers to carry on the idea. But, since I don't really have 6 readers with blogs to carry it on, I'll choose three. (Hey, it's better than nothing! I could end it right here. I'll do it, too! Don't test me!) So, Carmen, Jennifer and new friend B & Mr. Puddins (is that your real name, by the way?), I pass the torch to you. Don't let me down! Actually, I don't really mind if you let me down. I've already admitted that I am usually the chain breaker.
Just copy the below questions and fill in your own answers in a post on your own blog.
A book that changed my life?: The Bible. Well, it did change my life at one point. And then I changed it back.
A book I've read more than once: Lots of things. But that's because I tend to forget a book about a month after I've read it, so I'll pick up a book, think I haven't read it before, but it sounds familiar, so I must have heard good things about it, then get halfway through before I remember it. Book I've read more than once because I really like it and chose to reread it: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
A book I would take with me if I were stuck on a desert island:
SAS Survival Handbook: How to Survive in the Wild, in Any Climate, on Land or at Sea by John 'Lofty' Wiseman
A book that made me laugh:
An old one is Would You Rather
A book that made me cry:
The last one was My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult. There are lots of other ones!
A book that I wish had been written:
This is The Last Word and What I Really Think and This Supercedes All Other Religious Books. Please Don't Kill Other People...EVER. I'm Serious. Even in War. By God
A book I wish had never been written:
This is a tough one, because even though I don't like them, there are people out there who are inspired by the Bible and Koran who actually aren't fundies or out to decimate the population. I can't think of a book I really hate enough to wish it unwritten. There's always some freak out there who LOVES the book.
I'm currently reading:
I just finished The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon, which I found very good, because it deals with a teenage boy with Autism. Really makes me wonder how Hutton will be as a teenager!
A book I've been meaning to read:
Moby Dick. It's on the list, and I've attempted it a few times, but can't get past the first few pages.
What turned me onto fiction?
I've always loved fiction, too, but I guess The Black Stallion books really got me reading as a child.