This Versus That

A few little "this versus that" tid-bits that have happened around here lately...

• It turns out that Cameron and Ethan did not know there was a difference between Clorox cleaning wipes and baby wipes.  So when they've needed a little "freshen up" after a particularly trying trip to the restroom they've been pulling the Clorox wipes out and going to town on their backsides.               

          Ouch, right?

• For months I've been making fun of my oldest boys for being Magic the Gathering nerds.  Andrew and I remind them repeatedly that they cannot live with us when they are 30 - you know, like the Dungeons and Dragons types.  So the other day my sister and brother-in-law came over to play games.  They brought over a new one called "Killer Bunnies".  We were about ten minutes into it when one of my brats comes to the table, observes for a moment, and exclaims, "Hey!  This is just like Magic the Gathering!"  

          I have been duped into playing a fluffy, dumbed-down version of Magic the Gathering.

• It seems that all the political satire and election hubbub has been seeping into my mentality because tonight I converted from capitalism to socialism without even consciously making the choice.  

          Three of my four kids had eaten all of their Halloween candy, so I dumped Trent's into a big bowl and deemed it the community pot.


That is all.

Bumper Stickers

Living in the Pacific Northwest is sometimes like living in Hippie-Town.  There are dreadlocks everywhere, hooka lounges on many street corners, the term "granola" could validly be used to describe half the population but half the population wouldn't get it because "granola" is simply their staple food - not an adjective.
Most of the people in Portland and Seattle are very liberal. Plastic grocery sacks are illegal in some cities and sporting a Romney-Ryan t-shirt will get you a funny look in a way that your dreadlocks never would.
It's all good.  Nothin' but love for all the reusable bag people and the dreadlock fans.  I get it.
Here's something I find baffling though -- what is with all the Subaru's and their bumper stickers?
Does this phenomenon happen in other areas of the country, or just in the PacNW?  It's bizarre!  I swear I have never pulled up behind a Subaru at a stop light and not had thirty seconds worth of reading material to peruse while waiting for the light to turn green.  I often find myself tailgating Subaru drivers once the light does change because it's like being in the middle of a good book - you can't just quit reading, you have to know what happens in the end. In the case of the Subaru stories, it usually ends like this:

But you never know, so you have to keep reading anyway.
And back to that Liberal thing - I've never seen a conservative bumper sticker on a Subaru.  No NRA stickers, no pro-life, no Calvin and Hobbes dudes peeing on a Dodge logo or anything...  So I'm not trying to cause a political debate here, but are Subarus strictly Democrat cars, in the way that most SUV's are driven by fossil-fuel-loving Republicans?  When you register to vote at the DMV,  do they make sure that the model of your car does not conflict with the box of the political party you checked? Are bumper stickers just for the hippie-types?  I honestly don't know if I know anyone who has a bumper sticker on their car!
I did a Google search to see if anyone else had noticed the trend, and sure enough - there are images galore depicting just what I'm talking about.  But my question is; Does this happen outside of Oregon and Washington?  Please inform!  Also - if you have a bumper sticker or two on your car, please share what it says.  I find bumper stickers fascinating.

Password Protection

A week or so ago Andrew and I went to some friends' house for dinner and games.  Before we left I changed the password on my computer so that the kids wouldn't look at porn or play their Star Wars game while I was gone.  

When we got home that night Cameron asked me if I had changed the password, and I giggled a yes, knowing that the kids must have spent quite some time trying to figure out why they were being denied access.

"Well, can you please tell us what the new password is?", Cameron asked.

"No!", I laughed.

"What's the password?", shouted Cameron in desperation.  "Is it Bethany K?"

"No - it's a word you don't even know."

"Is it 'moot'?", he guessed.

(What??)

"No..."

And in pipes Drew.  "Is it the B word?"

Typical Drew.

Batteries: Drained

I have too much mental fatigue going on to post much of anything, but I feel so distant from my little blog home that I want to get something down.  Anything.  Don't you love it?

So here's a bullet list of what's going on here:

• Andrew finally got his VW bug, Brigitta, registered on Monday and then it broke down.  (Today is Tuesday, people.)  Hopefully a quick fix, but at the moment the poor car is all alone in a parking lot in Hillsboro somewhere...  We're off to get a tow rope in a minute here.  How have we owned this car for eight years without a tow rope??

•  Tomorrow or Thursday we should find out if Cameron got in to Rachel Carson School of Environmental Science.  Competition is fierce, and while I'm trying to keep my hopes up - I can't.  It was all too disappointing when he didn't win the lottery.   However - Cameron's essay was pretty kick butt, so you never know.  And a one-in-three chance is better than ...  Well, it's better than one-in-four, isn't it?

•   Ethan and Cameron are both playing sports again after our 15 month hiatus.  Man, has it been nice to not have to worry about getting kids to practices and games.  Let's all pray that Cameron isn't gifted enough to make All-Stars, ok?  I have no desire to spend all summer driving to and from games and practices.  I'd much rather be sitting home plotting my annihilation of the Ice Cream Man.  Which brings me to the next bullet...

• That darn ice-cream man drove through our neighborhood again today.  Today.  March 6th!  A day that began with snow on the hood of my car.  What is that man thinking, and is it wrong of me to want to lace the street with nails so his tires will go flat every time he comes around?  That's all I have so far, and it's unrealistic because I have to drive on the street, too. I'm open to suggestions.

• Andrew starts school at PCC in April - better late than never would apply here.

• I am working out regularly for the first time since P.E. classes were a mandatory part of my high school curriculum.  There is now a clear difference between my thighs and my butt.  It's what I always wanted.  For proof, see the Kestner Family Sneak Peek on this facebook page.

• Drew and Trent drive me crazy every day, and every once in a while they make it up to me by falling asleep while I hold them. 

There.  I think we covered everyone, which should be satisfactory until I can get my mental energies replenished enough for a real post.  Good night, everyone!

Speech Therapy

My youngest son, Trent, is in speech therapy.  It's going pretty well.  He says all kinds of words now, and more and more often he will spout off a word that he hears one of us say, and it will surprise and delight us.  


Last night Andrew and I were watching The Hangover because it seemed like the entire world was raving about it a year ago and we never got around to seeing it.  All the kids were in bed, but Trent wouldn't stop crying, and after we'd paused the movie about eight times to try to get him to go to sleep I gave up and brought him downstairs hoping he'd fall asleep on my lap.  


But no - Trent watched that movie with serious intensity.  When it got to the part where Heather Graham breastfeeds the baby and it shows the entire breast being plucked from the shirt, Andrew looked at me in shock and said, "Did you see that boob?"


Queue the two-year-old who spouts, "BOOB!"


And of course, because Andrew and I are such mature parents we laughed like a couple of school children.  So guess who thinks "boob" is a hilarious word now?  That's right.  Trent, the Wonder-Talker.


I was a little worried that Trent would demonstrate his new word for his speech therapist when she came to our house this morning, but he behaved and "boob" didn't make an appearance, (verbally or otherwise).


The speech therapist did leave a CD of the most annoying children's songs ever recorded for Trent to listen to, and I dutifully played the CD when she left.  Trent loved it, and I was singing along...


"Puppy!  Puppy!  
Where are you?
Where are you?
Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof woof woof!"


This CD was really aggravating Drew, who is four, talks pretty well, and who's musical tastes lean more towards Pink and Kevin McHale, shouted over the kiddie rap, "Mom!  Stop it!  You're making me PISSED!"


So that pretty much proves that none of our kids really need speech therapy, because Andrew and I will eventually teach them all the words they really need to know.

BikeGlow Discount For You!

Have you ever heard of BikeGlow?  Have you ever almost hit someone on a bike with your car?  Has your child been run over by a car while riding his bike?  Have you ever worried about your child being hit by a car in the dark while he's riding his bike?

If you answered "YES!" to any of these questions, then you need to visit Organic Enchilada today and find out how you can prevent your child from being smooshed into the pavement because they were riding their bike in the dark.  There's a 25% off coupon code for your very own BikeGlow Safety Light!  Yey!  Now go check it out!

(And is it weird that I can't help but wonder what else you could put one of those lights on?  It's not like there's a rule that says you have to put it on a bike, or even use it outdoors.  I'm thinking I might buy one for my dad to add to "Grandpa's Fun Drawer".  Ahem.)

I Will Now Waste Three Minutes Of Your Life.

• At about 2:30 this morning a noise woke Andrew and I up at the same time.  I said to him, "I was being shot at in a police stand-off in New York City."  He responded with, "I was lighting my farts on fire."  My dreams are so much classier than his.

• DQ should offer refunds when their soft serve comes out foamy, not try to hide it with extra chocolate syrup.

• T-Mobile wants to reward me for 5 years of loyalty (through numerous bouts of zero coverage) by offering me the same plan I'm on for the same money and still making me pay for new phones.  Now I am going to check AT&T because I'm sure they aren't jerks.  Not in the beginning anyway.

• Andrew has banned me from picking anymore blueberries.

• I'm still sad that Netflix decided to be poop-heads.  T-Mobile must have given them lessons on how to reward their loyal customers.  So I'm cancelling my Netflix and we're going to get satellite instead.  I do miss TV.  I never thought I'd say that.

• School clothes shopping:  Done.  But why are so many kids already back in school?  What happened to starting after Labor Day?  It's still summer, hello?

• In about two years all my kids will be old enough to go on camping trips with just Dad, leaving me home alone for at least 24 hours.  Tonight, while they are all kung-fu fighting on my bed, (and I'm pretty sure the box spring is now broken...or maybe I did that...by jumping on it - not what you were thinking), that possibility is incredibly exciting.  Cause dude.  24 hours alone.  I'm not even sure what I'd do with all that time.  Except for cherish it, of course.

• We still have three more weeks of summer.  Have not seen the temperature hit 92 yet.  How weird is that?  

• Tonight I'm going to bed at nine.  I will likely be too excited about being in bed to actually sleep.  But if I'm lucky, Andrew will share the nail-biting plot of his dreams with me in the middle of the night again.  I can't wait!

Girls Night Out/Guys Night In

A couple of weeks ago I went on a girls night out with my sisters.  We're kinda losers and can't talk about anything but our kids.  We tried, but even the discussion on accidentally shaving your entire lady parts fizzled into nothing and we had to go back to which kids had snotty noses and what-not. 

Sigh.

Anyway, the night was fun except for the idiocy of the movie we watched.  Something Borrowed.  Why the brunette chick even wanted to be friends with Kate Hudson was what I couldn't figure out.  What a wench. And oh my gosh, I just found out it's a book.  I hope it's better than the movie.

The night ended with my little sister slamming my toes in the car door, which hurt a lot and I might have cried some.  But she didn't see that part because she had to run off and see Harry Potter 7.2 with her husband.  One movie a night is not enough for that girl. 

When I got home that night my husband told me that he had really enjoyed the Guys' Night In.  He and our boys had watched Taken.  And SWAT.

Um.

Our kids are 10, 8, and 3.  Presumably the 2 year old was sleeping.

I know that I watched Stephen King movies when I was 6, but Taken?  That deals with human trafficking for sexual purposes.  Andrew said that part went right over their heads.  I certainly hope so.

These movies were a huge hit with our boys.  Tonight, Ethan asked me if I'd like to go on another Girls' Night soon?  Like tomorrow night?  I asked him if he was super excited to watch some more really inappropriate movies with his dad.  And he replied...

"Yeah, I'm dying to watch Brain Farts."

He meant Braveheart.  

I think it is safe to say that the movies really are going over their heads. 

Bullets

• I have to wonder why we need another Spider-Man movie.  I don't care if you think Toby Maguire was a crap Spider-Man and you loathe Kirsten Dunst - it's a comic book movie.  They aren't really supposed to be that good.  No need for a re-do.  How am I going to keep my kids from finding out about this?  I really don't want to spend another fortune on Spider-Man clothes and toys and DVDs.

• My tongue is blistered or something from all the Fire Balls I have eaten in the last two days.  I love 'em.  You wouldn't believe the things my dad made me do to earn them when I was a kid.  A kid old enough to know better.

• There's nothing quite like having a 4 year old who is so proud of the size and awesomeness of his poop that he refuses to flush it.  But that's OK, because I don't think it would go down anyway.  He has a right to be proud.

• I taught Cameron how to properly swing a bat.  I taught both Cameron and Ethan how to ride their bikes without training wheels.  I taught them how to write their names.  But for the life of me, I cannot teach Drew how to pump on the swings. 

• A few days ago my mom called me and left a message on my phone telling me that she had a zucchini that looked just like a penis.  That was all.  Nothing else on the message.  My mom is awesome.  And that zucchini must have been a real doozy because aren't they all a little phallic?

• I am reading three books all at once right now.  I never do that because I have a terrible memory which can cause confusion.  I am reading The Help, With Hitler To The End, and The Beautiful and Damned. Not on Kindle though, because I still refuse to go there.  Anyway - I'm finding that I pick up a book and suddenly I can't remember if Hitler was ever in Mississippi ordering around a colored maid while some slick trust-fund boy visiting from New York looks on and can't help but feel bored.  So now I'm determined to finish The Help before I continue with either of the others, both of which I will read one at a time.

• I am sorry for any of you who have been locked in a miserable heat wave.  But I have been stuck in the wretched Pacific Northwest, where summer has yet to make an appearance.  I'm still wearing hoodies and socks every day.  It rains here all the time.  And we've only hit 80 degrees or higher about four times this year.  Love your sunshine, People.

•  Every Thursday we go to Dairy Queen.  It's my bribe to get the kids out of the park.  When I've had enough of pushing kids on the swings I say, "Let's go get ice cream!!"  It's the only way I can get those kids to leave the dodge ball game.  So last week Trent goes running with his cone, trips on his sandal, and lands head first right in his ice cream.  He was really ticked at me for taking his picture.  And then I felt bad when I had him cleaned up and saw that he actually did have a bloody goose-egg under all that soft serve.

All Kinds Of Nerds

Eventually you reach a point where you have to say "Screw the housework, nobody cares anyway," (even though you reached that point last week, too).  Cause I've got better things to do.  Or things that are more fun, anyway.  

Like learning all the words to the rap part of "Billionaire" because I want to nonchalantly impress Andrew.  (Who in case you hadn't noticed, has his very own label on the side bar.  He can be found under "Andy Candy Pants".  It's one of those nicknames that just sticks, despite your better judgement.) 

And like showing you the costumes that I came up with yesterday in two hours flat for three boys because they had a Harry Potter party at the library:

On the far left we have a dementor, then there's Wormtail (note the silver hand), Mr. Incredible, (who could very possibly feature in some of that fan fiction that I stumbled upon online yesterday), and Neville Longbottom with Nagini and the sword of Gryffindor.  Then there's Trent who doesn't understand the phrase, "Get out of the picture."  

The above picture makes me feel like a huge nerd.

Strangely, the desire to learn rap in an effort to seem cool to my husband does not make me feel as nerdy as it should.

But speaking of nerds - what is with that fan fiction?  The crossover between Harry Potter and Twilight?  Absolutely mind-blowing!  Pure genius that is.  What I think they need to do on that website I linked to is have the authors post a bio with a picture of themselves.  The pictures are bound to be awesome, better than mine up there, for sure!

Alas, there are no bios.  And that makes the website old after the first few laughs.  I guess it's back to the housework.

Smarties At The Park

We went exploring in our new neighborhood the other day.  We were on a mission to find "the pirate park".  I find it kind of irritating that none of the parks in this town come with parking lots.  They're all tucked away into watershed areas or something so you have to walk in.  It's like a passive-aggressive way to get us to save the planet by driving less.

I digress.

So we found the pirate ship park and my kids were enjoying it tremendously.  Kicking soccer balls, shooting down slides, swinging until they puked, etc.

And not too long after we'd been there, an Asian woman and her two kids came into the park via the longest walking trail.  Yey them!

And they were blabbing away in Chinese or something, and my kids were like - Whoa.  (They were impressed.)  So these Asian kids were obviously bi-lingual because they were talking to both their mom and to my kids.  They can also probably read, even though neither of them could have been older than three.  And I wouldn't be surprised if they could have taken apart the mother-board of my computer and programmed it to make toast when I turn it on in the morning. 

We live near Intel.  I'm going to go out on a politically incorrect limb here and say that being near Intel means that half of our town's population is Indian or Asian.  Those folks tend to be the techy type.  My poor kids are going to continue to run across more of these kinds of super smart children, and about a year from now I fully expect them to have crappy self-esteem.  

So I'm watching my Drew and my Trent play with these two Asian kids, and it was cracking me up.  Trent's babbling away in his language that consists only of the consonant "D" and the vowel "A", and he's wearing a diaper even though he looks like he's four.  Then there's Drew who intentionally lands on his head every time he goes down the slide. He then rolls for about three feet through the sawdust, pretending to be injured and leaps up to do it again.

The first time the mother of the genius kids saw Drew going down the slide and then witnessed the hit and roll she sucked half the atmosphere into her lungs, and her body got stuck between helping him and waiting for me to take the opportunity to be a responsible mother.   

Physical hesitation mixed with mental infuriation is a funny sight.

Andrew was sitting next to me on a bench and he started to laugh and congratulate Drew on his performance.  The Mother of Geniuses looked over at us and asked if Drew was OK.  We said yes - in the sense that she was inquiring about.

My kids are awesome.  And they need to learn another language if they're going to keep up with their kindergarten class.

Riddle Me This

Drew and I were playing a game at Starfall the other day.  It's a cool site that we like to hang out at together.  We make a lot of jack-o-lanterns and snowmen.  Anyway, on this particular day, we were making words by filling in missing letters.  A picture pops up on the screen with the first letter missing, and we choose which letter to add that will make the word match the picture.

This picture came up...

...and I said, "Mmm-en.  Which letter says mmm?"

And Drew said, "Those aren't men, those are priests."

I have no idea how he knew what a priest was.  We don't have priests in our church, and I made him go to bed before I watched Angels and Demons.  So how?  How did he know that word?  I do love a good mystery.

Three

My friend, Evelyn, can pull good blog posts out of her rear end.  I'm sure of it.  I don't know how she does it, but there it is.  So here I am, copying her.  But she said it would be ok, so don't judge.

A list of threes.

Three things I plan to do today (Today being Friday, even though I'm writing this on Thursday night):
1. Set up an organization system for my bills.  There are lots.  This will take a while.
2. Go to the Woodburn Tulip Festival with my mother-in-law.
3. Allow my husband to redeem himself from forgetting my birthday.

Three things I am worried about:
1. Never finding my blogging mojo.
2. Utility bills.  It's been about three years since I paid any since they've been lumped in with our rent at a flat rate.  I have no idea what to expect.
3. Being this tired forever.

Three things I love...besides chocolate and my family:
1. Gummy peach rings.
2. Netflix.
3. The jogging suit my parents sent me for my birthday.  It allows me to feel comfy all day without feeling like I'm wearing pajamas.  Now to convince myself it needs to be washed...

Three blogs (among the many) that I love to visit (but not including Evelyn's cause linking to her twice would put me in the Major Kiss Butt category):
1. Crystal B.
2. The Zany Housewife
3. PVLundqvist

Three pictures:

Sidewalk Chalk Fish

Drew With His Great-Grandpa Last Summer

My Husband's Junior Year Of Football

Three things I picked up off the floor today:
1. Socks
2. A jelly bean
3. My lazy butt

Three things I like about myself:
1. Being tall.

2. That I can laugh in tough situations.

3. My farts really don't stink.  I promise.

Three things I learned this last year:
1. That I like to eat snacks while I read in the bathtub.  A bubble bath is nice.  Reading while in the bath is super nice.  Eating snacks while reading in the bath is taking things to a whole nutha' level.
2. That if I keep my fingernails painted, I won't bite them.
3. That you should not trust a person simply because they have the initials M.D. after their name.

Three things I love about New Town, Oregon:
1. Proximity to Andrew's office.
2. People pump my gas for me.  I love not having to get out of the car.
3. Only 70 short miles to our favorite beach.

Three things I want my husband to know:
1. Andrew - you have an addiction to Craig's List.  

2. White socks don't really go with tan slacks and black shoes.  But I love you anyway.

3. Your "Walking Farts" routine is phenomenal.  I miss it since we moved out of your mom's house.  Please resume with a new victim.  (Just not me.  It's not funny if it's me.)

Three things that make me to want to sit in a corner rocking back and forth:
1. My two year old's speech delay.
2. Writer's block.
3. The thought of having to make friends.  For real.  I'm a hermit.

Three things I miss:
1. The sun.
2. My parents.
3. Grass in the backyard.  (Is this one of those phrases that has a sick double meaning?  It seems like it could be.  If it is, please take the statement in it's literal form.)

Three confessions:
1. I'm terrified about my heart surgery next week.
2. My three year old knows the words to So What? by Pink.
3. I don't say half the things I want to say on this blog because I know my mother might read it.  She still has that much influence over me.  Good?  I suppose it probably is.

Three movies I could watch again and again:
1. The Pursuit of Happyness
2. Rear Window
3. Much Ado About Nothing

Three final thoughts:
1. I made refried beans in my slow cooker today.  If I survive the night sleeping next to my husband, it may just be a miracle.
2. I have to get a new driver's license next week.  Smile for the picture, or no?  What's the consensus?

3. Happy Weekend, Everyone!

For. The. Love.

Where is my blogging mojo??  I think it got lost in the move.  The first one.  I have not had an entertaining thought since we left Utah.  Imagine my boredom when I'm all alone.

For some reason my voice, the mental voice that comes out here on the blog, is gone.  Like my personality got zapped with a super-sonic ray gun and there's just blank nothing in my head now.  If you're still here reading this garbage, then I thank you for sticking with me, and you have my sympathy because you must be really hard up for entertainment.

SO! when you can't make things come out right on the computer screen, you resort to very basic blog fodder.  Usually, a list.

Tonight we're going with the "Good Thing/Bad Thing" list.

Good thing - I've hit my out of pocket maximum for health insurance for the year.  So bring it on.

Bad thing - I've had to plunge the downstairs toilet four times in the last two days.

Good thing - Recalling the night that my mother-in-law told me that my husband was her best nurser.  Still makes me snicker.

Bad thing - Getting a mental image of the aforementioned.

Good thing - I've bought all the Easter crap.

Bad thing - I have not finished unpacking.  This is a record low for me.

But let's end on a good thing, shall we?

Good thing - Tomorrow I'm going to meet the hearse people.  (So if you never hear from me again, you know where to start looking for my body.)

The Ka-Ching! After The U-Haul

Moving is really expensive. And it's not just the U-Haul and the gas to put in it and the security deposits and what-not.  It's the toilet brushes.  And the new broom because apparently way back in December I deemed all three of my brooms unfit for use in Oregon.  I'm not sure what I was thinking.

Anyway, we got all moved in to our new place on Saturday, and while I love it here and smile every morning when I wake up, I've already dropped $149 at Target on cleaning supplies and trash bags.  I keep checking my receipts thinking there must be some mistake, but no - Lysol, sandwich bags, and toilet paper really do add up to one fortune and twenty-seven cents.  And then I remembered that I have to re-stock the flour, sugar, cornstarch, and baking soda.  There goes another twenty.

So with all that money spent on absolutely nothing fun, I find myself broke and still shy of several larger items.  I'm about to tell you how good we are at improvising.

In our last house we had a built-in microwave above our stove.  What is that called?  A micro-hood?  Where's my kitchen designer husband when I need him?  Anyhow - we moved in here and realized we now have no microwave.  We're getting along alright without one thanks to my mad air-popping-corn skills.

We also have no book shelves.  Andrew keeps telling me to design one on paper or tell him what I want and he'll have a cabinet company make it for me.  And I keep telling him that I love that idea as long as he is planning on delivering pizzas to pay for it.  In the mean time, all our books are staying in the boxes and we've located our neighborhood library.  Boxes full of books will temporarily be serving as end tables, where we will set our open cans of Dr. Pepper, because there is always money for Dr. Pepper.  And then we will smile at our trashiness.

And finally, our tour of improvisation ends with the home office, located in the master bedroom.  We felt no urge to bring to the Northwest with us our dumpy kitchen chair that served as my desk (blogging) chair.  Now we have a desk with no chair.  So I improvised.  

 Sits a little low, but not too shabby.  And as least the thing isn't in my living room!

The End Approacheth

Tomorrow is moving day again.

I don't remember what my cereal bowls look like.

I miss my jewelry box and all the little treasures in it.

I'm still a little anxious about meeting the hearse people.

I can almost feel bits of my soul waking up from their dormancy.

I'm finding it increasingly difficult to stifle my shouts of joy before they make it past my throat.  But I can't shout hallelujahs here because it would hurt my mother in law's feelings, and I'm not trying to do that at all.  A woman just needs her own domain.  I am grateful for my MIL's hospitality.  But if you knew the story of the Mouse Fiasco of last week, you'd understand better how it's a damn good thing that the light at the end of the tunnel is so huge.

Do You Ever Think As A Hearse Goes By, That You May Be The Next To Die?

Remember when I told you about the hearse neighbor?  I finally remembered to get a picture.  I almost hate to share it with you because you may feel as much disappointment over the matter as I do.

You see, it appears that in my excitement to be moving, I neglected to notice the fact that the hearse across the street has flat tires, is covered in dust, and is apparently being used as extra storage space.  Such a pity.  I think these might not, in fact, end up being the best neighbors ever, as was previously speculated.  I'm even finding it harder to overlook the state of their "lawn".

There is just something cool about a hearse being one's regular mode of transportation.  And there is definitely something un-cool about letting one sit in your driveway as an eyesore for the entire neighborhood.

However, I'm going to give these people a second chance.  As soon as we're unpacked and settled, I am going to make some killer brownies and go a-knockin' on the Hearse People's door so I can get a look inside the joint.  Or, you know - just a look at the freaks who own a hearse.  There is still some lingering potential here. Mystery: Unsolved.

P.S.  The title of this post is taken from a charming little song that I used to sing when I was young.  It can be found, (I think), in the book Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark. It is a fantastic book for kids who don't particularly like to read.  Lyrics to the song found here.

Getting Back Into It

There is just nothing to write about since I changed my views on blogging.  I can't figure out how it's supposed to work anymore,  now that I'm back to doing it for it's original purpose.  

Anyhow.  Since I have no idea where to go with this, I'll just use bullets.  It's easy, and I need easy to get me back into things.

• I took Trent to the doctor for his two year check-up.  I did this on his actual birthday.  Can you believe it?  If you know me, you know that I usually make it to those things about six months after the fact.  Props for me.  And since I know you're all on pins and needles waiting to know if we had to put Trent on Slim Fast...  The answer is no.  Yes, he's the size of an average three year old, according to the pediatrician, but he's just a brick of a kid.  So because he isn't fat, just huge, we can still call him Chunks, Beef Cake, Gummy Bear, Fatty, and Tank.  At least for a while.

• We are packed as packed can be for this move.  The only things that we haven't boxed up are the dishes and the Vicoden.  What more do you need?  I haven't thrown out as much as I hoped I could, but I think that once we find a place to live we'll do better at junking stuff on the other end.  Fingers crossed.  It helps to know that if we can live without something for the next six weeks or so, we don't really need it anyway.

•  In the last five (ten? they're all mushing together) days I have typed 21,345 words over 32 pages for my step-grandmother's personal history. (All done after the kids are in bed.)  I finally finished the interview part and have been transcribing it all tape by 90 minute tape.  I'm half way through tape 4, and there are five tapes, plus a little journaling to copy. While it might sound like I'm asking for a pity party, the opposite is true.  I feel so honored to do this for Joyce, and I'm amazed that I've been able to get so much of it done with everything else going on.  If I can finish the transcribing, get all the pictures scanned and placed, finish the editing, and have ten copies of the book made by Christmas Eve, I might just be my own personal hero.  For a little while.

That's all I've got for now.  And sorry - no pictures.  I haven't taken any at all since Thanksgiving.  I need to backup all the pics on my camera so I can delete them.  I have one seriously full memory card.

Over and out.

My Day

Tonight I found myself eating a grilled cheese sandwich off of a make-shift toilet paper plate.  It's such a long, confusing explanation, I can't even get into it.

I sent my oldest son to his room at four-thirty this afternoon and told him he had to stay there until tomorrow morning.  Then Andrew and I decided to go visit my parents, and I didn't want to leave Cameron home alone in a supposed blizzard, so I let him out.  All my preaching of follow-through and commitment came back to haunt me.

I started reading Leo Tolstoy.  Not as bad as I was expecting.

I played this kid's game three times because apparently I am seven years old and find it endlessly amusing. I entered in all the foods I ate for real today, and the game showed me a tombstone with my name and date of death on it.  Sadly, it was next year.  Ok, not really...but I'm pretty sure I'm a huge disappointment to Regina Benjamin and Michelle Obama.  I'm over it though, because my Dr. Pepper and sour gummy worms are oh, so good.

Andrew showed off his winter driving skills.  We didn't die. 

I transcribed another two pages in my step-grandma's personal history.  Only a hundred and fifty or so to go.

I realized I need to re-learn how to blog without an audience.  The fewer unspoken rules there are, the harder it is.

I promised myself I'd be in bed by ten-thirty, and I only failed by an hour. 

Good night.

Whaaa-whaaa.

I sat here and started writing about why I'm burned out for Mama Kat's writer's workshop - and then I realized what a sissy little wimp I sounded like.  Yeah, I'm getting ready to move 800 miles away with my family of six only two days after Christmas and I have to homeschool them at the same time while keeping the house clean enough to show to potential renters "at a moment's notice" per my evil landlord's request....but so what?  People do harder things than that every day.  I've got it easy, so I'm not going to gripe about anything.  

Instead, I'm going to tell you about all the things that are keeping me from offing myself every day.

My husband - because he laughs at all the wrong places in movies and calls periodically during the day to make sure I haven't killed anyone yet.

My house has been puke free for 80 hours.

Those misdemeanors my Eagle Scout husband got have been paid for via bail forfeiture and are now filed under "case closed".  But he still has that record.  Which, if it weren't for the back-woods nature of the charges, would totally turn me on.  

I filled my Netflix queue with Christmas movies.  But not nearly enough - so if you have some suggestions, leave a comment, please.  

My kid beat me at Battle Ship today, and not because I let him.

One of my kids thinks I'm a better driver than my husband.  There were only two kids voting though.  The youngest ones don't care who drives better as long as we pull into a drive-through at some point.  Andrew got a unanimous vote for the best grilled-cheese, which just means I don't have to make those anymore.  I love taking random polls to see who my kids like best.  (But you shouldn't do it if you aren't willing to laugh at the answers.)

All my dishes are done right now.  ALL of them.  And that alone gives me reason to get up in the morning.

Have a kick-butt Thursday, Everyone!