How the Xbox Changed My Life

It isn't a great secret that I hate video games.  I loathe them with a hatred that is nearly indescribable.  But just for the sake of trying, let's pretend that video games are called Yvette, and then watch the following clip and you will have an idea of what I mean.
You with me now?

I hate video games.  And because of that, we own a Nintendo 64 and a Playstation 2 - two of the most outdated machines you can have - and I have been known to ground the children from them for months at a time and just once to throw the PS2 in a fit of rage.  I'm not proud of that, but there it is.

So when my husband and I, along with two of our kids, walked into a Game Stop the other day I can't really say what kind of insanity or evil demon had taken possession of me, but a string of words came out of my mouth that I swear I thought I would never utter.

"Why don't we get an Xbox?"

Yep.  That's what I heard myself say.  And I didn't have to say it twice before Andrew was on board and the cursed thing was being scanned at the register.

Buyer's remorse is something that I experience with a fair amount of frequency, and this was no exception.  All the way home I kept thinking, "What have I done? What have I done??"  But then this weird kind of elation came over me, like a beautiful sunrise, and I began to understand the amount of power that I held in that enormous bag on my lap.

Rules were quickly established as to when the Xbox could be played, a system was put into place for the boys to earn their playing time.  The rules and the system were implemented on the first day, and the change that has come over my four children is astounding. Not to mention the cleanliness of the house.

First, the boys are never allowed to play unless their rooms are clean, their chores are done and their schoolwork/homework is completed.  And then they are awarded ten minutes of playing time per requirement.  (Ten minutes for homework, ten for chores, ten for a clean room.)

Second, I have the right to take away minutes for bad behavior or sub-standard work.  I've done it twice already, and it is a beautiful thing.

Finally, the kids may earn extra minutes by doing extra work around the house.  This is the best part.  My van is getting cleaned tomorrow.

What have the results of this plan been?  Oh, sweet joy, allow me to share!

Cameron has finished all of his online schoolwork by one in the afternoon every day.  He has yet to notice or mention the fact that I've been putting extra lessons in since Tuesday.  His chores happen immediately after lunch and I never have to ask him to do them.  In addition to his other chores he has done three loads of laundry this week, done the lunch dishes, folded clothes, swept the floor, helped the little kids with their chores, made dinner and vacuumed - all without being asked!

Ethan has resumed his old habit of doing homework, which had disappeared over the last month.  He has been kind to his brothers and offered to do extra work.

Drew has decided that he'd rather play with his friend across the street than work to earn dumb old video games.  This is the best triumph of all and I hope it lasts!

And finally - Trent has consented to doing the homework that his speech pathologist gives him, which basically means talking with a popsicle stick holding his tongue down and he hates it.  But he's practiced more this week than he ever has before, and pretty soon he'll be saying lick and truck and snack without any popsicle stick required.

So as long as the boys continue to be obsessed with the object of my deepest abhorrence, I think we can consider this a win-win.  In the meantime I am completely stumped at what to do while I sit on my arse and watch my kids work.  So I'm currently playing 12 different games of Words With Friends, eating a lot of cookies and obsessively watching An Idiot Abroad.  I may need to start a weight-loss blog soon.  Until then, I plan on letting the kids earn ten extra minutes if they vacuum all the cookie crumbs off my chest during the commercials.

Awesome Photos of the Week

I took some pretty sweet pictures this week that I figured you'd all want to see.  I chose four to share with you.  

Photo #1 is of a drawing Ethan did with a friend.  I gave them a white poster board and they proceeded to draw a war scene.  There were bombs and helicopters and soldiers and this:

In case you can't read that, it says, "You're not the only one with a gun bleeeep."  I think it's both awesome that he censored the swear word and awful that he felt the need to include it at all.  

Photo #2 is of the tie-dye shirts I did with the boys.  I helped them place the rubber bands where they wanted them to be, and the boys did the dye all by themselves, as is apparent by Trent's muddy colors.  He used almost an entire bottle of purple dye.  

Mine turned out pretty awesome, but you'll have to live without a picture of it for now.  And by the way - these were super easy and fun.  Good summer project.

Photos #3 and 4 are of a science experiment that Cameron did.  For his birthday, his Aunt Natalie and Uncle Kamaki gave him a kit with three science experiments.  I hid them in his closet knowing that it would be good to save them for summer.  Below are the results of experiment #1, which had to do with bacteria.

We made the agar in the petri dish and then swabbed the inside of the bathroom doorknob and smeared it on the agar.  Then on the right half of the agar we swabbed some antibacterial cream (Neosporin-type stuff).  As you can see, no bacteria grew where we used antibacterial creme, but on the side without creme there is nasty looking crud growing.  Orange, black, white - gross bacteria.  

But then we moved on to another experiment.  We divided another petri dish in half and two of my children swabbed the insides of their mouths, making sure to rub their Q-tip on their gums, teeth and tongues.  Then each child smeared their sample on their half of the agar.  (I'm not using names to protect the poor children here.)

As you can see, one child had a relatively clean mouth, while the other child grew all kinds of nasty looking white junk on their side.  Unfortunately, that nasty black spot is exactly on the equator of the dish, (though it looks otherwise in the picture), and there is no way to be sure who's mouth that bacteria came from.  But I think it's safe to assume that it was Child B.  Maybe someone forgot to brush their teeth?

Vintage Finds

Today's adventure was a trip to Vintage Pink, which Andrew said sounded like a strip club for the over-sixty crowd.  It is not.  But they did have a rather extensive collection of vintage Playboys...  Good thing Andrew didn't come with me, I suppose!  My sister, Natalie, did, however, and we had a blast.  (All those commas seem wrong.)

I had a list in my head of things to watch for at V.P.; end tables, wall art, possibly a coffee table of some sort...  But once you get in there it's like sensory overload and you forget what you went in for and just start grabbing up things that are flippin' awesome.  I didn't end up getting any of the things on my mental list, but I found some items to put on my bookcase that hasn't been built yet.  (One thing at a time.)  Also, I bought an ottoman.  Because I wanted it.

It's not nearly as scratched up as this picture makes it look.  Anyhow - there it is.

Candy Dish

This car plays music.  It'll look cool on the bookcase - trust me.

Fish Lamp.  Why?  Why not, says I.  Needs a shade.

Vintage Camera.  Will make a fabulous bookend.

Child Prodigy

Trent is my baby, and with his third birthday rapidly approaching I decided it was time to potty train.  

Right now, nothing feels more insipid than a story about toilet training a three year old, so I'm going to make it quick.

This kid was potty trained in four hours.

I'm not kidding.

I put him on the toilet for the very first time in his life at seven in the morning on Monday, and nothing happened.

He peed his underoos three times before eight o'clock, and again at ten; then, at eleven in the morning we had success.  Pee-pee in the potty.

No joke - Trent has not peed his pants since ten in the morning on day one of potty training.  

He goes by himself.  I don't have to ask him if he needs to go, he just says, "Pee-pee's coming," and trots off to the toilet where he climbs on, does his business without the aid of a kiddie-sized seat, and gets back down.  (I do help with the hand-washing.)

The kid did go four days without pooping, and I was a little concerned that it would hit suddenly and with ferocity - but no.  Tonight, right before bed, he just did the doo.  Simple as that. 

I declare him a child prodigy.  And this week's favorite child.

The end.

Potentially The Best Neighbors Ever

Any woman who has every temporarily lived in someone else's house will understand the joy in which I share the news that Andrew and I have finally found a place to live.

It was a long time coming.  We didn't get a lot of opportunities to look, but everything we did look at was either too small, too expensive, or too creepy feeling.  So we've finally decided upon a townhouse about five miles from Andrew's office.  That's a huge perk.  He's been commuting 80 miles a day for 11 or so weeks now.  

It has a garage and a laundry room and a small backyard - and those are all nice...  But possibly the best feature is the intrigue proffered by the mystery person who lives across the street and drives a hearse.

That's right - a hearse.

I simply can't wait to catch a glimpse of this person.  My brain has been on overdrive wondering at all the different possibilities.  I know it isn't any kind of mortician because when we saw the hearse parked in the driveway of our soon-to-be neighbor I noticed a decal of some sort in the back window.  I didn't get a good look at it on the day we saw it, so I haven't any hints.  

Maybe it's a used car salesman with a really great sense of humor.

Maybe it's a mother who's children wear black make-up and hardly notice the petrified faces of their classmates as they are dropped off at school.

Maybe it's some kind of bizarre chauffeur service.

Maybe it's the drummer of a grunge band.

The curiosity is nearly killing me.  So tomorrow we're going for a drive - just to see if we can catch a glimpse of the Mystery Driver.  It'll be the most exciting Sunday drive ever - I'm sure of it.

Goo Goo Dolls Redemption

Two Fridays ago I went to a Goo Goo Dolls concert at a casino near the Oregon coast.  I was supposed to go with my husband, but he came down with a man cold, so I took my sister instead.  (Graci, Nan.)

The concert looked like this:

And sounded like this, sort-of.  There's some weird distortion going on.  Also, my camera sucks:

And through the entire thing I felt like this:

Yep, that "man cold" turned out to be the flu, which I had.  I pretty much almost died, but it was worth it because Goo Goo Dolls sound really good live, (even whilst yaking up a lung), and now I don't have to say that the only concert I've ever been to was The Dixie Chicks.  Because up until two Fridays ago, that was a true story.

Why The Dixie Chicks?  Well, it wasn't my fault, and that's all I'm saying.

Do you realize that The Goo Goo Dolls came out with their first album 15 years ago??  And for that reason, I should not have been shocked that 98% of the people attending the concert were overweight, over-the-hill, and bald.  But it did surprise me, and it was depressing, too.

But I was right there with them.  

Ugh.  Now I feel like I have to go watch Wheel of Fortune.

Makes Me Happy

This is either more evidence of education budget cuts, or the best prank ever conceived.  

I choose to believe it's a prank because it makes me happy.

Undoubtedly, the sight of me hanging out my minivan window looking like an idiot while I tried to take this picture surely made someone else's day.  Happy to help.

Super Powers

You know that question that people always ask - If you could have a super power, which would you choose?

Everyone always says the same things; I want to be able to fly, telekinesis, read minds, super strength, teleporting... And if it's a guy, they always want X-ray vision. Or invisibility.

Well what about other super powers? Since there is no such thing, you could really pick anything you like! Here are some that I have always thought would be nice...

Ability to see farts. It's disgusting to walk into one, especially with your mouth open. So wouldn't it be nice if you could see them, like in green fog form, so you could dodge the toxins and not have to inhale anyone's butt air? That, and it would be hilarious to be able to see people fart in church, or at weddings, or at the doctor's office... And, if that weren't enough - you'd be able to settle arguments as to who the fart culprit was in a stinky room. No more blame game.

Ability to pick the perfect watermelon every time. No more wasted money. No more disappointment at picnics or barbecues - you'd be the hero! The go-to gal/guy!

Ability to grow hair at lightening speed. Bad haircut? How about a do-over? Always wonder what you'd look like as a blond or with a pixie cut? Give it a try! If you don't like it - cut it all off and start over with a fresh batch.

Ability to make unpleasant things vanish. Dog poop in the grass at the park that you're sure your kids will step in? Gone. Extra pound of flesh bobbing around your middle? History. Mother-in-law came for a surprise visit? Not anymore!

Ability to rewind time. Did you just put your foot in your mouth? You get an instant do-over. Also comes in handy when you loose your temper with your kids, have to go to the bathroom in the middle of a good movie at the theater, or when you can't remember what you went into the bathroom to get.

Ability to understand every language and dialect. I still wonder what the heck those South American guys were saying about me that day on the beach...

Ability to change the flavor of things. You could eat celery and tofu all day long and make it taste like those darn Pretzel MnM's. Heck, yeah!

Ability to multiply things that already exist. Or hell, just make things appear. Like when you run out of Pretzel MnM's. Make more - just like magic. Guys with thinning hair would appreciate this. So would those with bad teeth. Best use would be for money though. Definitely the money.

So how 'bout it? What would you want?

A Very Young 89

Grandpa's 89th Birthday

Next year will be quite the bash!

S. E. #11 - Happy Comes From...

Self Exploration is a weekly post where I pose a question that is meant to make you look at yourself more deeply or in a new light. Your job is to leave a comment in response to the question. You may always do so anonymously if that gives you more liberty to be honest. You may also post your answer on your own blog, but leave a link to it in the comments here so I can go take a look! Now your assignment for this week:

Tell me five little things that make you happy!

Here are five of my favorite things:


I Love the corner pieces in a pan of brownies. Corners are the best.

I love Dr. Pepper. Morning, noon, and night.

Trent loves it, too.

I love peeking in on my kids after they've gone to sleep. They look so sweet and innocent when they're sleeping. Of course, they aren't. So it's good to go in when they're knocked out so I can try to convince myself that they are worth keeping.

I love watching weird movies with Andrew. Such as Little Miss Sunshine. It was awesome.

I love my collection of candles. I can always find one to suit my mood, and they're great for masking the smell of the turd that someone has in their pants.

Your turn!

Confession Session - Safety Smarts

I have taught my kids some bad things - unintentionally of course.

For instance, I am trying to watch my language around them, so now, when I say, "Oh, (long pause), my, (long pause)...", my two-year-old finishes up for me.

"Hell," he concludes in an appropriately somber tone.

I am Yoda. The Master.

Believe it or not, I have taught my kids some good things, too.

Examples: They can clean a toilet.

They know how to pretend that nothing happened when Grandpa farts.

Most of them know how to wipe. Okay, one out of four knows how. Okay, he's not that good at it either. Let's change that one - They know how to keep their hands clean. (Don't wipe.)

And then there are some things that I've taught my kids that are both good and bad.

Case in point - I taught them that people who ride bikes and motorcycles without a helmet are stupid.

Not careless, not risky, not forgetful.

Stupid.

As in, dumb. They are morons. They are so idiotic that they don't care if their brains get splattered all over the pavement for a city worker to hose down like the aftermath of a squished raccoon. And I feel no guilt for teaching them to call certain people "Stupid".

So now, when we're driving down the road and see a slick guy dressed in black leather astride a hot looking chrome chopper with the sun glinting on the top of his shaved head, my kids chime in excitedly - "Look, Mom! That guy is STUPID!"

Yes, boys, yes he is.

It's Mike The Headless Chicken Day!

I was reading this website this morning, while eating my breakfast.

Apple cinnamon oatmeal. I had to keep my brain functions separate - this part of the brain is eating, that part of the brain is reading, and they are not communicating with each other.

That is a skill that I have been developing for months and mostly comes from watching "How Clean Is Your House?" while I take my daily lunch break.

(Side note: wow, people are disgusting.)

So after reading about Mike the Headless Chicken, I decided that I am going to make the most of my day. I have a head. It has thoughts and feelings and things that make it happy.

I'm going to clean today, because a clean house makes my head happy, and because it gives me a feeling of superiority while I eat my lunch and watch disgusting television.

Thanks for the inspiration, Mike!

Now let's all go and put the gift of life to use today!

P.S. - If I lived in Colorado, I would ABSOLUTELY be attending the Mike the Headless Chicken Festival this weekend, because it sounds like tons of fun. And like they say on the website, attending this family event is a NO BRAINER!

It's safe to come back now - I'm not talking about my trip.

Last night I was watching an episode of Parenthood. It's a pretty good show and does a fine job of keeping me entertained while I fold my endless heaps of laundry.

There was a conversation that happened between two characters on this particular episode, (which I believe aired two weeks ago), that made me want to stand up and yell, "Hallelujah! About time!"

And in fact, I did pause it and take a moment to marvel.

There was a woman, married to a man, mother of two children. One of her kids is a teenage girl and the other a young boy with Asperger's Syndrome. Mom had gone off for three days to help an old friend with a political campaign, and when she returned, she told her husband that her friend had offered her a permanent position on her staff. The husband could tell that his wife really wanted to take the job and so he began to verbally spout off all the ways they could make it work...

"We'll have someone come in a couple time a week to clean, we'll get groceries delivered and we'll have someone come in to make sure Max gets to all his therapies..." It was at that moment that you could see the mother's face fall and she started to think about what would be required of her family in order for her to take this opportunity.

And then she said that she wasn't going to take the job because her kids need her.

I almost died when I heard her say that.

"There will be other campaigns," she said, "but our kids are only young once."

This was on NETWORK TELEVISION!!! Can you believe it?? I was so pleased that I couldn't sleep last night.

It is so gratifying to see a representation of a mother who will make the unpopular decision to put her children before her desire for her life to be her own.

BRA-VO.

I understand that there are women in the world who have to work, but I do not sympathize with a woman who goes to work to prove that she is just as capable as a man or to gain power or respect while she neglects her most important role in life.

'Nuff said.

Coasters

Five season passes to Lagoon: $450.00

One ball throwing game measuring the speed of Andrew's pitching*: $2.00

Video taping your kids' faces as they ride their first roller coasters: Priceless


I recommend you turn your speakers down because there is screaming involved. (Mostly on my part, I'm afraid.)


* 68 mph, by the way. Worthy of a giant, inflatable bat, but Andrew felt ashamed that he hadn't hit at least 75 mph, and I would not give him another $2.00 so he could feel like a man. So he pouted while he took Drew on the carousel. Also, this wasn't "technically" Cameron's first roller coaster. But it was his first that went upside-down. Good stuff.

It's A Good Thing

This is the result of leaving Drew and Bryan unattended in the playroom.  It's not so bad, really.  I can clean that up in twenty minutes if I can lock myself in that room tonight and not have interruptions.  I am just so glad that they have found something to do besides follow me around all day!

A LITTLE NONSENSE NOW AND THEN IS RELISHED BY THE WISEST MEN

I can admit that I have an addiction.  I can't seem to go a day without a soda.  Or two.  It's my happy juice, and I'm ok with that because my bowels are regular now.  Water has it's place, too.  I won't tell you what that place is, because even though I've come a long way in that department, some of you would still be shocked.  And yey for you.

Soda is not cheap.  Cheaper than beer or therapy though, so we're still justified, but we only buy it when it's on sale.  So tonight I stumbled upon a 4/$13 sale at Walgreens, but they seemed to have something against Diet Mt. Dew.  So do I, as a matter of fact, so I understood, but if I don't keep my man in twelve packs he goes to the convenience store that sits a stone's throw from his office and buys the more expensive liter bottles of the stuff.  Therefore, I decided we needed to try another Walgreens.  The next one we hit did in fact have the twelve packs of Diet Mt. Dew, so I loaded four of them into my cart.  At the checkout stand I noticed a display of Wonka Bars.  Chocolate Waterfall bars, to be exact.  They were wrapped in the most fantastical shiny wrappers, and even teased that each bar held the possibility of containing the coveted Golden Ticket.  

Well, how could I not, right?  I added a Wonka Bar to my cart.

Back in the car, I gave the bar to Cameron and Ethan and told them that it was a Wonka Bar and that they needed to open it together to see if they would become the bearers of one of the most magical items in the history of the world.  If you could have seen their faces you would remember for yourself the joy of being a child - when possibility is huge and it makes your stomach flip.

We did not get a Golden Ticket, but that was some darn good chocolate.  We each broke a piece off and shared it - just like Charlie did with Grandpa Joe.  

We decided to hit up one more Walgreens to utilize the register coupon we had gotten from our Mt. Dew purchase and get another four twelve packs for ten dollars this time.  At the end of that purchase, the register spit out another three dollar off coupon, and I told Andrew that we'd have to come back tomorrow and use it before we forgot about it.  We considered stocking up on even more soda, (or liquid death if you will), but the sound of giggling in the backseat made me think, "What would Charlie do?"

I think we'll be enjoying some free Wonka Bars tomorrow.

A LITTLE SAFETY QUIZ

I asked Cameron today what he would say if someone called on the phone while I wasn't home. He seemed confused, so we role played. This is how it went...

Me: Brrrrrr-ing! Brrrrrr-ing!

Cameron: Hello?

Me: Hi, is your mom home?

Cameron: She can't come to the phone right now.

Me: How about your dad, is he home?

Cameron: He can't come to the phone either.

(I was trying to elicit an offer from Cameron to take a message...)

Me: Are they really home, or are you just saying that?

Cameron: Yeah, they're home, they're just both in the shower.

Our conversation ended there.

STRIKE A POSE! - Oh, and a giveaway.

The best $7 I ever spent was on Cameron's first grade class picture.



Let's take a closer look, shall we?



I can't figure out what he was thinking! Is it GQ? Is it the beginnings of a Kung Fu move?

So we're going to have a caption contest. All you have to do is leave a caption for the above picture in a comment on this post, and the winner, selected by random.org, will win a $10 giftcard to Walgreens, where you can order prints from your digital camera instead of letting them sit on your computer, never to hit the pages of an actual photo album. Walgreens always has awesome coupon codes in their online photo department to make printing your photos cheap and easy. (But if you were selected the winner, then you could spend that $10 on anything you like. Buy some toilet paper and a candy bar if you like. Just don't use them at the same time.)

This contest is open to anyone in the United States of America. Continental or not. So it's time for all you lurkers who never leave a comment to come out of hiding and take a chance at winning! Contest closes on Monday, March 8th at midnight, mountain time. Oh, and one entry per person, if you please. Don't forget to leave your name in your comment so I know who to announce as the winner! Good luck!

A Little Somethin' For The Kids

A fair amount of my favorite childhood memories took place at this amusement park. Like the time that my cousin, Erin, vomited pink (thanks to the cherry icee) french fries into the bushes. Natalie and I were amazed because the fries were all intact! **Always chew your food. Especially if you're anxious to be flipped upside-down and spun in circles on the next roller coaster.

So, we're taking advantage of living ten minutes from Lagoon and buying the family season passes. It's a luxury we won't likely have again, so why not? And besides, how could you not want to pay good money to see this happen again and again:

Lost Dreams

Last night I watched five minutes of a Lost episode from last season, which I have already seen, and I had bizarre dreams all night long. The same type of dreams that I got when I was pregnant and had to take half of a Unisom every night and then dream about topsy-turvy out of control things for seven months, except my Lost dreams contain a lot more nature.

I love Lost possibly more than I've ever loved watching anything since I was fourteen and would watch snippets of Beverly Hills 90210 when no one was home. Nope, I think more than that.

I just wish that the show didn't come with psychological issues that cause me to toss and turn as I climb through tree houses and beach boulders with John Locke and his hunting knife. Why is it always Locke and never Jack or Sawyer?

Next Tuesday - Lost party. All are welcome. 7:00. RSVP. And Natalie, if you can make it, bring that chocolate fondue.

There will be no jalapeno poppers, however. I learned my lesson during season two, and my chin has not forgotten.