Oh hey guys. I've been off climbing Mt. Everest. While running a marathon. After saving a child from a burning building. Er, ah...OK, you forced it out of me. I forgot my password. And then tried to reset it. And then forgot it again. What can I say? I have short arms.
What have you been up to? Me, I've just been hanging out. Living life. Keeping busy. Driving peeps to school, basketball, gymnastics, you know, the usual. Alright, alright, really I've been hauling people around to those things between watching Top Gear, Real Housewives of Anywhere, Southland (OMG people, such. a. good. show) and playing Diner Dash.
Anyway, hope you're all well! I'll be trying to chat it up again soon.
Hugs and kisses for Valentine's Day,
April
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Someone needs to be the adult around here
Here's the thing peeps. I am easily amused. Particularly in a 12 year old boy kind of way. It totally cracks me up when my kids say things that mean something different to adults than they do to kids. MD and I like to then repeat these statements for our own amusement. I present to you a few examples of late:
G realizing she forgot her silverware, "Oh my fork and knife!" Say it just a bit faster now... that's right, hee hee.
The other day, P talking about a kid on the bus and wondering about his bus stop. "Where does he get off?" Now say it like you're a member of Jersey Shore. Now say it like that to your child, "where do YOU get off?" Of course they don't get it and say something like, "You know, at the corner where you pick me up." Oh right, I remember, I'm an adult.
Today, while snipping apart grapes, "Mom, you've got a little cluster there." Oh G, if you only knew the number of little clusters going on in my life right now. Of course it only reminds me of Fantastic Mr. Fox referring to something as a "cluster cuss" instead of the real term, and then I'm doubly amused. Are you cussing me? Tee hee.
G realizing she forgot her silverware, "Oh my fork and knife!" Say it just a bit faster now... that's right, hee hee.
The other day, P talking about a kid on the bus and wondering about his bus stop. "Where does he get off?" Now say it like you're a member of Jersey Shore. Now say it like that to your child, "where do YOU get off?" Of course they don't get it and say something like, "You know, at the corner where you pick me up." Oh right, I remember, I'm an adult.
Today, while snipping apart grapes, "Mom, you've got a little cluster there." Oh G, if you only knew the number of little clusters going on in my life right now. Of course it only reminds me of Fantastic Mr. Fox referring to something as a "cluster cuss" instead of the real term, and then I'm doubly amused. Are you cussing me? Tee hee.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Grumpy time
Oh "not me" I hate you. I'm not a fan of your friends "I didn't do it" and "I don't know" either.
So there.
Grumpy April is taking her short arms and going to bed now. Right after I clean up the hand soap that is covering the bathroom mirror.
So there.
Grumpy April is taking her short arms and going to bed now. Right after I clean up the hand soap that is covering the bathroom mirror.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
30 minute meal? HA!
Just once I'd like to see Rachael Ray (who I adore) have to cook one of her 30 minute meals while actually dealing with everything else that happens in people's homes just before dinnertime. You know, having to help with homework, unload the dishwasher so yet another dirty dish doesn't end up in the sink and negotiate a small, healthy snack since the jackals children can't possibly wait 30 minutes for dinner. She'd also need to put the cans from the beans/tomatoes/vegetables into the recycling container, wipe up the spot where the chicken dripped on the floor before someone steps in it (of course using bleach spray, which you have let sit for 2 minutes in order to kill the germs), realize that the person who is supposed to be doing homework is actually hiding in the bathroom and get them back on task all while not burning the onions she's trying to saute. Don't forget to set the table and pour milk and cut fruit and try to be attentive to another child who is attempting to tell you a story.
Even before those things take place she'd probably need to go to her pantry to make sure she set everything out that she'll need to cook dinner. At this point she might discover that she has only 1 Tablespoon of a critical ingredient when the recipe calls for 1/4 cup of it.
Not that any of those things happen at my house right before dinner. Oh no, certainly not. I'm just saying they might happen. You know at someone else's house. At my house the missing ingredient would smartly have the words "more in freezer" written on the lid. So I would confidently go to our freezer, pop the door open and proceed to spill a cookie sheet full of corn kernels all over the floor. (12 ears worth of corn kernels that had been blanched, cut off the cob and frozen on a tray, if you must know.)
Sorry Rachael, we had cold cereal instead.
Even before those things take place she'd probably need to go to her pantry to make sure she set everything out that she'll need to cook dinner. At this point she might discover that she has only 1 Tablespoon of a critical ingredient when the recipe calls for 1/4 cup of it.
Not that any of those things happen at my house right before dinner. Oh no, certainly not. I'm just saying they might happen. You know at someone else's house. At my house the missing ingredient would smartly have the words "more in freezer" written on the lid. So I would confidently go to our freezer, pop the door open and proceed to spill a cookie sheet full of corn kernels all over the floor. (12 ears worth of corn kernels that had been blanched, cut off the cob and frozen on a tray, if you must know.)
Sorry Rachael, we had cold cereal instead.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
First day of school
Hey there! Today was the first day of school. Cute pics were taking of the children and they were sent off with shiny happy faces. G started first grade this year and I was curious as to how the whole full day plus after school care would go. When I picked them both up at 5 everyone was doing OK. (Yeah for small victories!) On the walk to the car G began to fall apart. I think she was holding herself together as best as she could all day and as soon as she knew the day was done the wheels fell off the wagon. Well, they actually were kind of hurled from the wagon. After being fashioned into a spear of some kind. Metaphorically of course.
So, if you saw me in the parking lot today with my child standing outside the car screaming about wanting a drink of water RIGHT NOW you don't need to ask how my day went. BUT, if you did ask, I would say it was really not a bad day overall. Because while she was yelling and stomping and just plain being mad about being mad, I was sitting in the car. With the air conditioning on. Playing solitaire on my ipod. I'm mean like that.
Once the storm clouds passed she calmed down, apologized and we went home. I sent her upstairs to shower, cooked dinner (breakfast for dinner! A favorite around this house!) and my guess is we will both be asleep in about 15 minutes.
This is the kind that won't get scrapbooked because I like to keep the illusion of the smiling-faces-all-the-time going in my albums, but I wanted to write it down. To share it. And to say, in the face of yelling and stomping, I kept my cool. I didn't yell back. I didn't hiss at her with clenched teeth. I let her do what she needed to do, while I did what I needed to do. Not surprisingly, after her tantrum passed, I felt much better than I usually do at the end of these exchanges. I guess everyone has the chance to learn something on the first day of school.
P.S. Not to short-change him in terms of blog fodder, P had a great, drama free day at school!
So, if you saw me in the parking lot today with my child standing outside the car screaming about wanting a drink of water RIGHT NOW you don't need to ask how my day went. BUT, if you did ask, I would say it was really not a bad day overall. Because while she was yelling and stomping and just plain being mad about being mad, I was sitting in the car. With the air conditioning on. Playing solitaire on my ipod. I'm mean like that.
Once the storm clouds passed she calmed down, apologized and we went home. I sent her upstairs to shower, cooked dinner (breakfast for dinner! A favorite around this house!) and my guess is we will both be asleep in about 15 minutes.
This is the kind that won't get scrapbooked because I like to keep the illusion of the smiling-faces-all-the-time going in my albums, but I wanted to write it down. To share it. And to say, in the face of yelling and stomping, I kept my cool. I didn't yell back. I didn't hiss at her with clenched teeth. I let her do what she needed to do, while I did what I needed to do. Not surprisingly, after her tantrum passed, I felt much better than I usually do at the end of these exchanges. I guess everyone has the chance to learn something on the first day of school.
P.S. Not to short-change him in terms of blog fodder, P had a great, drama free day at school!
Friday, August 20, 2010
Confessions from the laundry room
Nothing too earth shattering here. Although I'm beginning to notice that several of my posts have something to do with laundry and/or how much time I spend doing laundry due to a variety of circumstances (mostly) beyond my control. I guess we write about what we know...
Anyway, I was washing clothes last week and I noticed my daughter's shirt still had a sticker on it from her day care. When I pulled the sticker off I realized that it left a small circle of white, which in turn made me realize that the whole shirt was supposed to be white. She had gotten so dirty playing in the sand at the park that the rest of the shirt was gray. Sad face.
Luckily I sprayed the whole thing with my little container of stain remover and once it was washed we were back in business. But before I knew that all of the dirt would come out I was thinking, "Really? Come on. This is why we can't have nice things."
And then I looked over to the rest of the laundry where I noticed the sweatshirt I had bought for my son a week earlier at a garage sale. It's a great sweatshirt, hooded, with my college's logo on it--something that normally costs $35-40. I got it for $6 and I was super excited at the time. I usually don't buy the kids sweatshirts with school logos because they are so pricey, but I knew this one was a great bargain and could be worn by my daughter once my son outgrew it.
And then, standing in the laundry room, I realized the flaw in my thinking. Something I overlooked. The thing I should have noticed if I hadn't been in the middle of my "feeding frenzy" as MD calls it when I get super focused on a bargain and miss critical details about the item I'm about to purchase. (Side note--this same feeding frenzy once influenced me to buy another great sweatshirt for myself, only to get it home and realize it said "Grandma" underneath the college logo. In my defense, "Grandma" was in pretty small letters and I was carrying a lot of other things so I couldn't really hold the shirt up with both hands to see the entire front at one time. Lesson learned: It doesn't matter how much a person "saves" on an item when they have to give it to Goodwill after wearing it zero times.)
Anyway, sorry for the tangent--back to the laundry room. I realized that I had overlooked one critical piece of information when buying this great bargain of a sweatshirt. What was the problem you ask? The sweatshirt is white. White! Good Lord I just bought a white sweatshirt for a 10 year old boy! A boy who plays tackle football during recess. A boy who rolls around in the mud. A boy who probably invented a game called "who can get the most dirty in the least amount of time" with his buddies. And I honestly thought he would pass this sweatshirt down to his sister. You know, old gray shirt. The girl who quite literally pours sand out of her shoes before she comes in the house. Clearly, mistakes were made. I was obviously blinded by the bargain. Now, does anyone know where I can buy a case of Shout Advanced Stain Remover?
Anyway, I was washing clothes last week and I noticed my daughter's shirt still had a sticker on it from her day care. When I pulled the sticker off I realized that it left a small circle of white, which in turn made me realize that the whole shirt was supposed to be white. She had gotten so dirty playing in the sand at the park that the rest of the shirt was gray. Sad face.
Luckily I sprayed the whole thing with my little container of stain remover and once it was washed we were back in business. But before I knew that all of the dirt would come out I was thinking, "Really? Come on. This is why we can't have nice things."
And then I looked over to the rest of the laundry where I noticed the sweatshirt I had bought for my son a week earlier at a garage sale. It's a great sweatshirt, hooded, with my college's logo on it--something that normally costs $35-40. I got it for $6 and I was super excited at the time. I usually don't buy the kids sweatshirts with school logos because they are so pricey, but I knew this one was a great bargain and could be worn by my daughter once my son outgrew it.
And then, standing in the laundry room, I realized the flaw in my thinking. Something I overlooked. The thing I should have noticed if I hadn't been in the middle of my "feeding frenzy" as MD calls it when I get super focused on a bargain and miss critical details about the item I'm about to purchase. (Side note--this same feeding frenzy once influenced me to buy another great sweatshirt for myself, only to get it home and realize it said "Grandma" underneath the college logo. In my defense, "Grandma" was in pretty small letters and I was carrying a lot of other things so I couldn't really hold the shirt up with both hands to see the entire front at one time. Lesson learned: It doesn't matter how much a person "saves" on an item when they have to give it to Goodwill after wearing it zero times.)
Anyway, sorry for the tangent--back to the laundry room. I realized that I had overlooked one critical piece of information when buying this great bargain of a sweatshirt. What was the problem you ask? The sweatshirt is white. White! Good Lord I just bought a white sweatshirt for a 10 year old boy! A boy who plays tackle football during recess. A boy who rolls around in the mud. A boy who probably invented a game called "who can get the most dirty in the least amount of time" with his buddies. And I honestly thought he would pass this sweatshirt down to his sister. You know, old gray shirt. The girl who quite literally pours sand out of her shoes before she comes in the house. Clearly, mistakes were made. I was obviously blinded by the bargain. Now, does anyone know where I can buy a case of Shout Advanced Stain Remover?
Monday, August 16, 2010
Camping. And germs.
We went camping this past weekend. Well as close to camping as I care to get, we stayed in cabin type place in a state park. Mother Nature and I have a bit of an "agree to disagree" relationship. I try to stay out of her way and she helps make sure I'm not eaten by bears. (Side note, a couple of weeks ago we were on a nature hike, surrounded by tall trees in a totally gorgeous setting. Rather than simply marveling in the beauty and enjoying the moment, I actually caught myself pretending to stretch so I would look taller, just in case a mountain lion was behind me, thinking about attacking. It's totally a legitimate technique they teach when you're going into the woods, by the way. And yes, I know I need help.)
Anyway, the place we stayed had electricity but no running water. We had a camp fire and used it to cook all of our meals. We had s'mores, tried our hand at fishing and went canoeing. It really was quite lovely.
One drawback was the, ahem, facilities. There was an outhouse (shudder) nearby and further up the road there was a flush toilet. The general lack of running water was a bit of a nightmare for me the certified germaphobe. However, in my quest to not pass on my issues to my children I tried to roll with the punches. We had a water jug, I put some soap near it, encouraged the kids to wash--especially before eating, and hoped for the best.
On one of our walks to the flush toilet, we passed a golf ball in the parking lot. P wanted to pick it up and take it back to his dad. I said he didn't need to pick up parking lot leftovers and that I didn't think MD needed a random golf ball. P rolled his eyes and said, "If I got some tongs and washed off the tongs and the ball and my hands could I pick it up?" Hmmm. Busted.
I joked with him about then needing to sterilize the the parking lot and let it go. On the last day of our trip P slept in until 10. Not a good sign. This is a kid who is up at 7:30 everyday. Unlike his mother, this kid is a go getter, he is up and at 'em in the morning. The only time he sleeps in is when he's sick. I noticed he looked a little flush and when he declined bacon for breakfast I knew we were in trouble.
So we packed up, got him settled with some water, a pillow and a book in the car and started driving home. About 2 miles outside of the campgrounds I turned around to check on him, just in time to see him gag once, twice and then spew vomit all over the car. Not to be graphic, but I do mean ALL over. It was rather spectacular. On his sister's leg, all over the library books he had on his lap, on MD's seat, on the console, down his own legs. We pulled over, and both MD and I hopped out. MD grabbed a towel and started wiping things up, while I grabbed my stomach and tried not to add to the vomit situation. We realized that it was going to be quite a mess to deal with, so we headed back to the campsite so P could use the showers and change clothes. On the way back we tried to figure out what might have happened that could have made him sick--especially since he was the only one who was sick. Then MD said, "well, P was the only one touching the fish we caught, and I don't think he washed his hands afterwards."
Oh karma! How you like to bite people on the backside sometimes! I tried not to be too I-told-you-so when I pointed out that maybe hand washing isn't such a bad thing and perhaps you shouldn't mock your mother when she suggests it (over and over), but I don't think P heard me since I only said it in my head. Sometimes vomiting everywhere is enough of a lesson.
Anyway, the place we stayed had electricity but no running water. We had a camp fire and used it to cook all of our meals. We had s'mores, tried our hand at fishing and went canoeing. It really was quite lovely.
One drawback was the, ahem, facilities. There was an outhouse (shudder) nearby and further up the road there was a flush toilet. The general lack of running water was a bit of a nightmare for me the certified germaphobe. However, in my quest to not pass on my issues to my children I tried to roll with the punches. We had a water jug, I put some soap near it, encouraged the kids to wash--especially before eating, and hoped for the best.
On one of our walks to the flush toilet, we passed a golf ball in the parking lot. P wanted to pick it up and take it back to his dad. I said he didn't need to pick up parking lot leftovers and that I didn't think MD needed a random golf ball. P rolled his eyes and said, "If I got some tongs and washed off the tongs and the ball and my hands could I pick it up?" Hmmm. Busted.
I joked with him about then needing to sterilize the the parking lot and let it go. On the last day of our trip P slept in until 10. Not a good sign. This is a kid who is up at 7:30 everyday. Unlike his mother, this kid is a go getter, he is up and at 'em in the morning. The only time he sleeps in is when he's sick. I noticed he looked a little flush and when he declined bacon for breakfast I knew we were in trouble.
So we packed up, got him settled with some water, a pillow and a book in the car and started driving home. About 2 miles outside of the campgrounds I turned around to check on him, just in time to see him gag once, twice and then spew vomit all over the car. Not to be graphic, but I do mean ALL over. It was rather spectacular. On his sister's leg, all over the library books he had on his lap, on MD's seat, on the console, down his own legs. We pulled over, and both MD and I hopped out. MD grabbed a towel and started wiping things up, while I grabbed my stomach and tried not to add to the vomit situation. We realized that it was going to be quite a mess to deal with, so we headed back to the campsite so P could use the showers and change clothes. On the way back we tried to figure out what might have happened that could have made him sick--especially since he was the only one who was sick. Then MD said, "well, P was the only one touching the fish we caught, and I don't think he washed his hands afterwards."
Oh karma! How you like to bite people on the backside sometimes! I tried not to be too I-told-you-so when I pointed out that maybe hand washing isn't such a bad thing and perhaps you shouldn't mock your mother when she suggests it (over and over), but I don't think P heard me since I only said it in my head. Sometimes vomiting everywhere is enough of a lesson.
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