Meeting the new year.

The thing that gets me about how my kids are growing up is not their birthdays, it's the start of the school year.

This year, Ten will be in fifth grade.  Here, fifth grade is the last year of elementary school.  Six will be in first grade and in school all day.

My babies are growing up.  It makes me appreciate them for this time in their lives all the more and a little bit sad.  I know they're excited and that's great, but it will be a little while before my excitement catches up with theirs. 

It's official:  I will never win Mom of The Year.

Mr. G took this week off because the boys go back to school on Monday.  Today we went bowling.  As we're leaving, I unbuckle the baby in his stroller and Mr. G says "where are the car keys?" 

Of course, I WALK OFF and leave the baby in his stroller, unbuckled, and the boy immediately launches himself out of the seat, doing a face plant on the 115 degree pavement, splitting his lip.

When we came home, Mr. G wrote a song about it.

"Asphalt"

Lying on the asphalt 

in pain

face covered 

in road rash

I burned my ass

it's nobody's fault

but my own...

and Mom's...

The music is lovely, the sentiment, not so much.  Hopefully, the rest of the week goes better.

A Dark Afternoon.

Saturday the Mr. and I went to see The Dark Knight.  My friend offered to babysit all three boys and mid-afternoon we snuck out in glee to watch the show.

Our first clue that things weren't going to go our way was that there was no place to park.  It took a good fifteen minutes to find a place to park.  Then there were huge lines, which we bypassed because we used the credit card machine.  Then the snack lines were 25 people deep, so the Mr. stood in line while I went to find us seats.

I went through the entire theater, asking every person next to an empty seat if the seats were open and the only place to sit in the entire theater was in the front row, so we ended up switching our tickets.  The Mr.'s only request:  at least make it an "R" movie, since we weren't with the boys (ha ha).

We ended up seeing Hellboy II - not an "R" movie but still good for the money.  I mean, who doesn't want to see strange creatures, things blowing up, great fighting and star-(and/or species)-crossed lovers?  I give it a yes.  I know it's not for everyone, but I enjoyed it.

Am I growing up?  Or is the print world growing down?

I used to get a lot of magazines.  I love magazines, one of my favorite things is opening the mailbox, finding a nice thick, shiny magazine inside, and shutting myself in my room to read it.  I don't get too many anymore though because I've found that I just am not interested or can't really relate to what's out there.

I used to get Rolling Stone.  I probably subscribed to RS from when I was about twenty until maybe about thirty three or thirty four, then one day I realized I didn't really care much about the people they were spending all their time talking about.  I didn't relate to stories about people drinking like fish or smoking pot or doing drugs, and I didn't like the music anymore.  I know, I got (shudder) old.  I guess I'll just fade away, and not try to dig what they all say.

I also used to get US Weekly, but that one fell by the wayside next.  It's not right to know all the things about celebrities that US Weekly tells you.  I don't know them, why do I need to spend all that time learning exquisitely mundane tidbits about them?  After a while, I didn't recognize all the "youngsters" in the magazine anyway, and I never in a million years would wear most of what they're wearing.  I kind of feel like I need a bath if I happen to pick one up now, it's just sort of icky. People Magazine isn't much better, it's supposed to be about regular people and it's not.  It depresses me when I read it.

I got Rachael Ray's magazine for a year and realized that while I like Rachael (I do, though I don't watch her on TV anymore) and I like her magazine, I never actually like any of her food enough to cook it.  No one in my house will eat it.  My mom got me a subscription for a year to Martha Stewart Living, I think in hopes that it would clean me up a bit, and while I admire a lot of the talent that goes into the whole "Living Lifestyle" I can't pull it off.  If I ever managed to pull off one of those projects, I'd be shocked.  I can barely keep my house clean, I don't have time to make anything, I can't operate a glue gun, and if I had one, I'd probably burn out my eye or something.

In Style was the last to go.  I loved InStyle, but honestly, InStyle, get real.  You're not geared towards any normal person.  Maybe I might buy a nail polish I like, or use a hair product or try a hairstyle, but NO ONE I KNOW is going to go spend $350 on a pair of jeans.  Or $1150 for a "weekend getaway" outfit, no matter how necessary you think it is.  No one uses the terms used in In Style - words like "fete" and "breezy" and "ultra-femme".   It's like celebrity puff pieces in InStyle.

I don't care about some schmaltzy "stylist to the stars" who has 200 pairs of high-heeled shoes.  I don't care that a certain actress has "1000 pairs of jeans" and I don't want to take a tour of her closet.  What REAL person has 1000 pairs of jeans?  Not any person that I would want to know.  Think of the good causes money like that could go towards.  How can a person ever even wear that many pants?  It's sort of disgusting.

And to top it off, most of the pictures in InStyle that they Love are also on Go Fug Yourself as bad fashion choices anyway so I can't even look at them and not laugh.  Probably not what they were going for, I know.

So, I'm left with a couple of house and design magazines and everything else I read, I swap with my friends and don't buy anymore.  At 42 I don't think I'm old, but apparently I'm out of step with what the print world thinks I should be, and guess what?  I don't care at all.

Check yourself first.

OK, I've decided I'm going to just keep my yap shut.  I complained yesterday about how a family treated their kid in a store, making him try on clothes in the middle of the store.   Horrible parents, right?

Well, I'm pretty bad myself.  I came home yesterday and lost my baby.

I told the boys to watch him because the phone rang, and I went in the living room to talk.  They were in the bedroom, watching Pokemon because Ten has swimmer's ear and wasn't feeling well. 

I came back in ten minutes later and said "Where's the baby?" and they both looked at me and said "What?  We don't know."

Enter CRAZINESS while I tore through the house screaming.  No baby.  Now, I know he isn't OUTSIDE because he's a baby and can't open doors.  It's 110 outside so no one left any doors open that he could crawl out of, but he's NO WHERE.  No where.  My heart has stopped.

I run back in my room and the baby is in my bathroom.  The door is shut, he's shut the door on himself and is in the bathroom in the dark screaming.  The boys have the TV on so loud I didn't hear him at first (though, they say "Oh, yeah, we heard him crying but we just thought he was with you").  The baby was fully traumatized - for over thirty minutes he just clung to me like a baby monkey or something and wouldn't let go.  Ten minutes in a dark bathroom and I've probably given him some horrible psyche-crushing fear that will require extensive and thorough therapy for the rest of his life.

I'm lucky he didn't a) fall and crack his head open;  b) eat something out of the trash; or c) fall in the toilet face first and drown.  Because I have seen too many of those buckets with the warning on the side: AVISO!!! and the picture of the baby upside down with it's face in the water.  Not good.

Oh. My. Gosh.  

I was pretty upset at the boys but ultimately it's my responsibility.  And my husband even pointed that out as well - they're kids, they can watch him sitting there in his crib or something but don't just walk off and leave them all.

So I have learned a valuable lesson - if there's something I can do or something that needs to be done, do it.  If there's something I can't do, then don't worry about it.  And pay attention to my own business before it crawls off and gets hurt.

Going a little too far?

I know I've had my fair share of embarrassing my kids in public, and not in public.  Yesterday, however, I saw something I think was a little too much.

A mom was having her son try on clothes at Target in the middle of the boys department.  And not just putting a shirt over your head trying on clothes, taking off his pants and making him stand there and try on pants.  In the middle.  Of the boys department.

The boy was probably at least six.  At least in elementary school.  He stood there, pulling his t-shirt down as best he could, while his mother chattered loudly with his father.  The boys eyes were huge and wet, and you could tell he was completely humiliated, and why shouldn't he be?  Every single person that walked by stopped and stared with their mouths hanging open.  It wasn't like the mom was even trying to hide him, you could see him from  all directions.  From the aisle.  From the entire toy department.  One older man was whizzing by in his wheelchair and actually stopped and backed up, like he wasn't quite sure what he was seeing (he didn't sit there and gape, by the way.   Just a lot of head shaking before he sped off again).    You could hear the parents all over the place, they were talking so loudly it was like you couldn't help but look.

But what do you do?  Do you say something?  Do you tell someone else?  Do you do anything?  Do you do nothing?

I felt sorry for the boy.  It made me feel badly for my boys for the times I've done something stupid to them and made them feel bad, or lost my temper, or just didn't have the patience to speak with them the way I should.  But I think standing in the middle of Target, half naked, that's a little too far.

The Button Biter.

I don't think I'm feeding him enough!   (just kidding, he's nine months old, weighs twenty two pounds and is walking around already.  We're doing something right!)

As an aside, I think it's cute how babies look like they have little muscled arms.  Like they lift a lot or something, at nine months.  All those stuffed toys really pay off.

They Know My Name (and they've got my number).

What is it with baby hair anyway?  They all get to a point where they look like Phil Collins.  Maybe we should break out the drum set and get him started early.

And, because Target knows my name and apparently has my number, I bought this yesterday for our littlest music fan:

I don't know about Ringo and Yoko, but I do know Paul probably needs the change, so I'm happy to contribute (and yes, all four Beatles are on there, but I just could not get him to hold still).

Just relaxing.

I don't really have a lot to say this week because we're just hanging out here, enjoying summer. 

Well, as much as you can enjoy it with a six year old who will run by and fart loudly, then come back over to you and whisper quietly "I farted!" like you didn't hear it or something.   Or smell it.

Friday Mess.

This morning I went walking and saw my neighbors in their driveway with their dogs so I went to say hi.  They "inherited" the dogs from their grown kids because they were too busy to take care of them properly, and my neighbors have been working hard to train the dogs.

I learned over to pet one of the dogs, and he stood up, put his paws on my shoulders (he's big) and tried to bite my face!  Luckily he had on one of those mouth guard straps and he couldn't get his mouth open wide enough to break the skin but he left teeth marks on my face.

It would be an understatement to say I was surprised.  I just didn't expect in a million years that a dog would just try to bite me with no warning!  And my poor neighbors were horrified as well.  

Luckily it ended well, but I tell you, I won't be trying to pet him again!

Next, the 9-month old baby is walking already.  And has six teeth.  I'm not quite sure what kind of growth hormones I must be giving him but I swear, I've been eating pretty well.    The only thing I have that I probably shouldn't is maybe a Coke with lunch every day and the very occasional cup of coffee, but that's not too often.  And that's supposed to be growth stunting, the coffee, so I don't know.

Here's my new favorite gadget:  

I put it next to a Coke can so you can see how big it is (or isn't).  It's holding a pound of carrots and it's the perfect size for snacks or fruit or treats just to eat.  I would get every color if I could but I really can't justify spending the money on about ten different little colanders.

Also, here's another poll:

A)  Spray

or B)  Stream

And, finally, a picture of everyone's favorite flying pink balloon video character, Kirby, courtesy of Ten.

Have a great weekend!

Because I'm all about The Polls.

My husband and I wash our dishes differently.  We have a two sided sink.  I fill up one side with water, wash the dishes and set them in the empty side until it's full.  Then I rinse them and put them on the counter.

My husband will wash the dishes in the soapy side until the soapy side is full.  He then turns on the water and rinses them, putting them on the counter.  He says this is so you can still use the sink.  

I say I am using the sink, to wash the dishes.

My way, I have more room to wash the dishes in the soapy water, but inevitably my husband will come and want to dump something in the side of the sink with no water, thus dumping it all over the clean dishes I've just washed but not rinsed yet (which bothers him).

His way, there's so much stuff in the sink you can't maneuver anything around to get it properly clean (my interpretation). 

So - what is your vote - go to the poll now up on the top left of the page and tell me.

A)  I wash like you - you need room to wash them properly. (4 votes)

B)  I wash like the Mr. - you need to have a clear sink in case there are random things that for some reason need to be dumped in the sink right now, who cares that you're washing dishes? (0 votes)

C)  OK, that was wrong, the Mr. is right, keep your desperate attempts to influence the poll to yourself. (0 votes)

D)  I only have a sink with one opening, I can't vote.  (1 vote)

E)  Why aren't you using your dishwasher? (2 votes)

F)  I have kids to do that for me. (0 votes)

Thanks!

NOTE:  I DO use my dishwasher, but we don't put our pots and pans in there.  And sometimes you know you're going to run out of bowls or something, so you wash the bowls instead of putting them in the dishwasher.  There are always some things that just need to be hand washed.  

Anonymous Henchmen Rule.

In our tank, as I said yesterday, we got some feeder fish as "volunteers" to test the water for a month.  There were four tiny fish that you can't tell apart, then Kip (who was blue) and Tip Top (who was red).  Notice both of them are in the past tense, because Tip Top left us this morning, leaving only the four "non tell apart fish".  We didn't even name them, we just call them The Anonymous Henchmen.  

In Austin Powers Goldmember, Austin's dad Nigel is fighting a bunch of guys on Dr. Evil's submarine and he laughs at one of them:

Nigel:  Have you got any idea how many anonymous henchmen I've killed over the years?

Henchman Sailor:  (nods)

Nigel:  I mean, look at you.  you don't even have a name tag.  You've got no chance. Why don't you just fall down?

Also in another one of my favorite movies, Galaxy Quest, when the crew is hijacked into space, one of them freaks out:  "I'm not even supposed to be here.  I'm just "Crewman Number Six".  I'm expendable.  I'm the guy in the episode who dies to prove how serious the situation is."  Luckily for him, they find his name is Guy.  Guy Fleegman.  And he does survive to tell the tale.

So.  Here in the Geek House, The Anonymous Henchmen live, while the Nigel Powers and the Guy Fleegman fish perish.  Where is the justice?

Something's fishy around here.

We bought a fish tank! 

Apparently you have to wait about three to four weeks for your tank to "settle in" before you get your "good" fish so we have some small guppie type feeder fish right now.  The boys were excited because they both got a cute tiny fish (one red, Tip Top; one blue, Kip - their favorite colors).  We also decided to go with some live plants (instead of plastic) because they are supposed to help keep the tank cleaner.

This is Tip Top.  Sadly, Kip did not survive the weekend and went off to make nachos in the Great Beyond.  There was a burial service this morning.

This is the view from my desk, which I quite like.

The best part, the little chair right in front of the tank, for viewing anytime.

Happy Birthday, to you.

We're playing a game Ten received for his birthday, but need to celebrate another birthday as well.

No touch of grey, but it seemed familiar.

I was flipping through the TV channels last night alone because the rest of my family abandoned me to play Nintendo Monopoly and came across Nashville Star, a show I've never watched. 

I recognized Jewel and Billy Ray Cyrus and I knew the name Mr. Big or Mr. Rich or whichever guy it was from Big and Rich (though to me, the only Mr. Big is on S&TC).  The other guy though, whew!  I didn't know who he was at all, but he kept striking me as familiar and I couldn't figure out why.

Then I knew.  I had flipped through the music channels earlier and had seen A Touch of Grey, the old video by the Grateful Dead where the automated marionettes play the instruments and sing.  This guy was a dead ringer for one of those marionettes.    

Check it out:

What's your vote?  Yay or nay on the likeness?  I'm posting a poll on the top left of the blog, vote and let me know.

Just for fun, here's a YouTube video of the whole song:  A Touch of Grey.

(photo credits:  J. Steele, Reality TV Magazine.  Grateful Dead, Wikipedia)

Here's the poll, because it drops off after a week:

Why yes, he does!  And no, I haven't been smoking anything!  (2 votes - 18%)

Why yes, he does!  And I'm offended that you would insinuate I had to smoke something to think so!  (no votes)

No he doesn't!  What have you been smoking?  (3 votes - 27%)

No he doesn't!  And I know you haven't been smoking anything, you're just on too much Benadryl and have three kids and no sleep so I forgive you (1 vote, 9%)

Why don't you go take a nap?  (5 votes - 45%)

So. The nap wins.