Why moms love Laura Joffe Numeroff stories so much

Mom life: if you give a mom a reminder to take her vitamin, she'll realize she needs a drink to take it. So she'll get her cup and see her plate that needs to be washed. So she washes her plate and finds other cups that need to be washed, and washes them. Then she sees that the counters are gross and wipes them clean. She swept crumbs to the floor so that means she has to sweep the floor. She goes to empty the dustpan, and finds the trash is full. She pulls the trash bag and takes it outside to the collection bin. She returns to put a new bag in the kitchen trash can. Then she sees the splats the kids left behind and mops the floor (swiffer wet jet, really). Then she remembers she came to the kitchen to take her vitamins before bed and finally takes them 20 minutes later.

Moms love Numeroff stories so much because moms can freaking RELATE. Well played, Laura, well played.

fiber funny

One of my yarn shop pals brought this to my attention. Not everyone understands the appeal of knitting and crocheting and what it does for people like me. Yes, it's just string and a hook or some pointy sticks. Yes, I could go pay $5 for some sweater that everybody else got from the big box super-retailer. But, I do enjoy taking a length of string and making it into something else. I'm trying to use up my current yarn stash to get rid of the cheap stuff I bought as a newb who didn't know better. I couldn't imagine paying $5 for a ball or skein of yarn, much less a sweater's worth of it at that price. Now - I get it. I understand the pull of nicer yarn, and want to upgrade my stash. So, I found myself involved with a blanket project group, and now have several squares crafted of acrylic yarn awaiting my next trip to the post office. It's a win-win, in that I deplete the stash and the yarn gets put to good use and blesses some other folks. Yes, I got the yarn with the intention of making things for specific people out of it. However, if in the time since 2005 when I figured out the crochet hook, and 2007 when someone helped me learn the knitting needles, I have not found the first end of those skeins and made those intended projects - it is time for the yarn to be elsewhere.
Which leads me to this: the nicer yarn is apparently addicting. Someone related the addiction to something non-knitters could probably understand a little better. So here you go, The Yarn/Drug Compendium.

It always starts at home.

It's a sure sign Devildog watches too much wrestling and UFC fights, oh and boxing. The Blur was laying on the couch last night, slapping the cushion saying "One! Two! Deeng Deeng Deeng!" repeatedly.

This makes me glad I have managed to control my colorful language. She's already saying "oh dang it!" so "motherless goat" is next I'm sure.

The verdict is in now

My 20 week ultrasound was scheduled for Friday the 8th. It was not the least interrupted day either. Clone's ears are still bothering her from spending too much time in the water last weekend, and she was apparently nauseated from it affecting her equilibrium. So, the school called for me to come get her. I allowed myself to get sidetracked and was then running late for my appointment. Add to it a Clone feeling green and ready to hurl yet I had nothing handy. I keep a 2 liter bottle of water in case the mom-bus needs a drink or someone on the side of the road has a car needing a drink. I've been stranded with an overheated car and empty radiator myself so I can relate to those unprepared individuals. With my merchandising job I keep a box cutter in the glove box for those times I forget to put my knife back in my workbag. I had to pull over and cut the top off the 2 liter bottle so she could have a container to collect her gack. Call me a girl scout like that I guess.
So I call the OB's office to let them know I'm going to be late. My Daddy taught me to do that because it's the courteous thing to do, and you wouldn't believe how surprised people are when you actually call and say "I'm running late". Thankfully they had a cancellation at 10:30 and I could still get my ultrasound, and be done in time to wait forever for my OB visit to follow up from the lovely adventure to the ER. So with Devildog and Clone in tow, we got to see the wiggly worm baby, and baby gave up the money shot - 3 lines, no bulging parts. So it's another girl - in case you didn't notice the change in the ticker color from a rainbow to pink.
Then I stopped back at that secondhand store to buy some snap-front onesies. I had a ton of them with Clone and they were an utter godsend if she had a blowout. If you've never changed a baby wearing a regular over-the-head onesie after a blowout diaper...ooh you're in for a treat. Blowouts+regular onesie = You're done for. Then I found a onesie with this design on it and immediately thought of Devildog's buddies. So I got it for the first time the guys get to meet the Stowaway. We'll see how many of them are paying attention.

Trying

Today is my little brother's birthday. Of course he's taller than I am, but he will ALWAYS be my LITTLE brother. Sadly I didn't get him a birthday gift yet. Being broke sucks like a shop-vac. I got him a stocking (disappointingly empty even) with our favorite college team and he was pleased. He's always so appreciative of the crap I give him. Devildog isn't quite as appreciative, but then again, I give him a different type of crap than I give my brother. Anyway, on to the purpose of my post today...it's a blog about the husband.
Devildog got home from work and apparently needed to download his day with me. There was a very challenging customer who called trying to get something she honestly was not entitled to receive, and attempted to do so with sniping, name calling and lies. Really....that whole karma thing never occurred to her apparently, because it came back to bite her unsunny place. There was another associate in the store who left their assigned department hanging while he took an early lunch break, resulting in a very frazzled associate that was left behind to tend all those customers solo. Sales plan buddy, it's one of those key indicators that the big cheese in corporate offices use to determine how many hours you get to work, and if you even get to KEEP your job. I'm sure this individual simply does not care about that at all. The big puzzle of a store's day is lost on that associate. There were inventory issues needing to be sorted out and remedied. And transfers were arranged, of course I got to hear about how one store never reciprocates and how that just peeves Devildog to no end (among other things I shouldn't repeat).
Then his lunch break was no exception to the Darwinian associations. He went to McDonald's...they know him there and he never deviates from his usual. When I worked at McDonald's (looks at oldest...) 16+ years ago, we had our "usuals". Regina always got a double cheeseburger, small fries and a small coke. She ate all her meals at McDonald's and one time threw me for a complete loop when she ordered a McRib instead, laughing heartily at foiling my attempt to beat her in the door and have her order ready to go for her. There was the hoarding curmudgeon who drove a late 1960's Chevy 4 door loaded to the top with old newspapers. The trunk, back seat, floorboards and front seat were full of papers. I suspect the lack of comfortable space contributed to his crankiness (clutter does that), and he was very terse. My husband is a regular, except he's not all that eccentric as those etched into my memory of my days at the mcjob. He likes his burgers plain, and nothing has changed in all the years we've been together. No condiments please, except cheese. His McPals near the job know this and try to have his food ready for him. Today there were 6 in line, Devildog included. He and another party in line had special orders. Everyone else had stuff they generally have at the ready. This other party ordered twelve (yes a dozen) double cheeseburgers, no ketchup no pickle. This large special order was second in line, Devildog was sixth. These two individuals were getting testy because people in line behind them dared to order food that wasn't a special order, and got their food ahead of them. They were saying things like "our food? anytime soon? like now?" and other insolent things that make the employees move slower just to be spiteful. I wouldn't dream of knowing anything about this, but I've heard things indicating as much. Devildog, having been on a roll with this difficult customer and annoying coworker interjected with his rapier wit. "Oh be patient, grab a chicken and gnaw on the leg to hold you over. They have to go out back and catch the cow and slaughter it for your burgers." The crew was just waiting to see what came next. Impatient Special Ordering people got puzzled and gave quizzical looks. Devildog had to break it down for them, because their apparently excessive grease consumption fried their cognitive abilities. "What do you expect? You come in here and order not just a special order, but a LOT of a special order. It's coming, they're working on it and it will be up in a minute. Geesh." Impatient Special Ordering people were not amused. Further proof that too much grease isn't good, it zaps your humor too. Eat a salad people! The roughage might clear the blockage and you may one day laugh again. However the McCrew was really bemused by Devildog's candid assertion and he became endeared to them that much more for it.

Devildog got back to work and there was more trying of his patience. He was saying to no one in particular "I'm trying to be better. I really am, but it's hard to be nice when they're being stupid." And a nearby coworker was quick on the draw and quoted Ron White. "You can't fix stupid". And it doesn't matter how much you try, that condition is just irreparable beyond any hope.

Catching a Breath

OK, so I've been M.I.A. for a few days. I signed back onto AIM and had messages waiting, wondering where I've been. AIM was giving me fits, and I signed off to reboot the program and try again, despite doing so several times. So between frustration, getting distracted by something shiny and realizing just how late it was that day, I didn't log back into it. Then life got busy to the point that getting on AIM was going to derail my travel. I didn't stop moving for several days. I'm putting on the brakes a bit today though. If I don't I'm going to fall ill again and we don't want that. I never did get fully over the last issue, but I think this is all asthma related. I also think it's related to the amount of dust and God-knows-what in my house. It's a mess here. HOWEVER, I wanted to give you the skinny on what we've been doing. You're going to need a beverage and maybe snackage, this is lonnnng. What? I've got catching up to do remember? Don't forget a couple napkins too while you're up.

You back? Ok, good.

Last week was go-get-the-oldest chaos and recovery (don't think I really recovered). This week was busy busy more busy (and I don't know that I'll recover.) None of it was really Christmas related. This was just life. Christmas shopping? HAH! I've been neck-deep in contact with my oldest and I'm stuffed with my fill of him. I now have 2 weeks of ALL THREE children. This will be adventurous to say the least. That bottle of Whaler's might not last till New Year's. Which reminds me, I need to add Dr. Pepper to my shopping list.

A coworker of Devildog's moved to a house, and there was a party last Saturday. The coworker's other half invited friends under the premise of it being the dog's birthday "and come see where he lives now" thing. She's not quite as kooky as I initially thought, but I wouldn't host a gathering under the premise of celebrating an animal's existence. I don't need an excuse other than "Hey! I cleaned my house and you can walk through it! Come see it before it disappears for another 10 years!" Another of Devildog's coworkers gave us tickets to the Jeff Dunham show at the arena Saturday. So we went to the party, went to the show, and went back to the party. We had nosebleed seats but not bad seats. Not normally a problem, except these seats were essentially built into a wall and should only be occupied by people wearing women's shoe size 8 or smaller. My size 10's don't fit there, and Devildog snagged the aisle seat claiming a need to accommodate the manhood parts, and not getting things pinched. The show was awesome nontheless. I laughed so hard, I had an asthma attack. Or at least it was a continuation of the one I was trying to get over after being in the in-law's house where smoking takes place indoors. I also wore layers, and it was a good thing, because I was about to die of overheating from laughing so hard. Thankfully I had the invite to the Devildog's Christmas party from the week before still in my purse, so I could fan myself. I need to clean my purse more often. See a trend here in terms of me cleaning anything?
I love Guitar Guy (his name is Brian Haner), dad to one of the guys in Avenged Sevenfold. I haven't listened to any of their music, but after hearing Senior Haner play, Junior Haner should prove interesting. It's something the oldest likes though. But Senior Haner played an opening set for us that um...kind of made me feel a little old. But he's kick-butt nonetheless. He could do a full show of his own and fill a venue.
Jeff brought out the usuals: Walter the Curmudgeon, Achmed the Dead Terrorist, Peanut, and Jose the Jalepeno on a Stick for a show much like Comedy Central's Christmas special. Being a live audience has perks though. It's better than pre-recorded. One of Jeff's characters is Bubba J, a bumpkin who met his wife at the fair, married her in a church and had the reception at Walmart. Bubba J was brought out as an encore, after numerous requests. Jeff didn't understand why, commenting that the requests could be due to where we were. He had to bring out the cheat sheet because he had been doing the holiday set and needed a brush-up on this character. The crowd didn't care. In fact, the crowd (sold out house of about 10,000 people), HELPED with the punchlines. Humility in a comedian is wonderful, and lends to the show. Bubba J turned to Jeff, saying something about how it wasn't good that they knew the punchlines better than he did. There was a comment about it being like a creepy kind of church that the crowd finished the punch lines. I hated to see the show end. I hated more the traffic in the garage with schmuckatelli's being selfish and not letting people merge. I am NOT going to rant anymore about that. Merging doesn't have to be that difficult.

Do you need to use the bathroom? Now's a good time. I'll wait.

You back again? Good. Continuing on now.

Thursday was a gathering at yet another (former) coworker's house. Anyone else notice excessive contact with coworkers? Retail people are certainly a very different breed. This was planned several weeks in advance, complete with a catchphrase imprinted on t-shirts. To save space here and reserve the entertainment for a day when my life is boring again, I'll post that story separately, and with pictures. And no comment about my life being boring again. It's always been mundane, but really...you're about to pee your pants now if you didn't go already when I told you to do that. I will say that I have been drawn into their fold. Apparently they like me for some reason. I suspect it's because I've driven the bus occasionally when someone was being thrown under it. Yes, I've been hit with the bus when someone else took the wheel. But I bounce back. With vengence. For some reason, some members of this crew thought Devildog could "check" me. At any of the gatherings, I couldn't tell you how many times I have heard "check your wife" from his friends. Smart man that he is, Devildog backs away and says "hey, I know better. You are on your OWN with her. You started it. I will warn you to be careful though." I can only suppose the interaction with me is entertainment for the rest of those present. I don't know if I could be considered a breath of fresh air, but I'm a breath of something, if not entertaining at times. That's for sure.

sleeping genetics

I talk in my sleep, have awakened MYSELF yelling at people in my dreams (I have issues apparently), and awakened my husband on NUUUUUMEROUS occasions. I make no apologies for it, as my husband snores like the best of the sleep-apnea kind do, complete with sucking drywall off the ceiling. Clone snores a bit, and mumbles in her sleep. Beast snores and makes mumbly-ish noises. Oldest (name yet determined for blog usage) talks in his sleep. Because we haven't gotten the bunk beds back together so there are two beds in the male quarters of the house, Oldest has been sleeping on the futon in the den (THANK YOU Persnickety!!!!), right behind my throne. (that would be the computer chair in case you needed a translation)
I got up to check the thermostat because it's slated to reach Yankee temperatures here tonight. If we had a pet, it would be indoors, it is slated to be that cold. Upon my return to my throne, I found my son's pillow on the floor after he turned over. I picked it up and put it over his head - eyes covered, nose exposed just for the record here. He stirred, and picked up his head to apologize for making noise. "What?"
"We all fell off a cliff"
"Huh?"
"Kingdom Hearts"
::shakes head and returns to glowing box of interactive entertainment::

This is similar to the conversation my mother had with me in 8th grade when she was looking for my sister. I'd totally zonked out after manning the class Hooligan's Dice booth at the church carnival. Prizes were arranged on a shelf according to score level. Apparently my sister could be found on the third shelf that day.

Sleep & lucid conversations don't peacefully coexist at the exact same moments in time. One or the other usually wins that battle.

because wasting time is so much fun

I got sucked into Pioneer Woman's blog again (it's soooo incredibly easy to get sucked in, that place is like a shop-vac kind of vortex). She linked to despair.com and they have a nifty DIY feature. So I played with pictures I had on my hard drive and uploaded one, and made this poster. I'm a tad impressed with myself and my snarky bent, and just narcissistic enough to share it with you.















Then I thought more on it, and came up with this one, which is even more demotivating than the first

Coffee!!...must....have COFFEEEEEE!

I was awakened by a phone call this morning, in the middle of my multiple snooze button interactions. While I was taking that call, Devildog got up to get Clone ready for school. He's my hero like that because a well digger's backside has nothing on the current temperatures normally reserved for March around here. I finished the phone call and got up to make Clone's lunch and my coffee. My hero made the pot of java this morning, and he amassed additional brownie points for that act of love too. I was looking for certain containers for my Clone's lunch and started putting away some of the dishes in the drainer, in order to locate said containers. Apparently, some of us need coffee to make coffee.



I found the brew basket in the dish drainer.


"How did you make coffee without this?" (holding up the brew basket for Devildog to see)
::quizzical look::
::maniacal cackling::
He opened the top of the coffeemaker and pointed to it saying "Like that"


It wasn't a total failure, because coffee made it INTO the pot for consumption but it was certainly an amusing start to the day.

There comes a point when inefficiency must end

And for me, when it gets to the point that I am in public looking like this:


(meaning: hair coiled into a "bun" and a scrunchie slapped around it)

It becomes time to sit down, restructure, and cut some losses:


So that something can operate more efficiently:



And yes, the current cut is shorter than last year's de-maning of sorts


And the DevilDog....
He's really not happy with me for a few things today. Most notably this:



But I have to argue, if the girl is smiling THIS much because of something as simple as a haircut of her own choosing,

How can I deny her the joy, that included a dance in front of the mirrored column?

Seriously the girl got up in the chair, put her finger where she wanted her hair to be and said "I want it here, but keep this (pointing to the face-framing layers mom installed last year) because I like that part." It was only about 3 or 4 inches she wanted gone, which was all split ends anyway.
LaNae, the manager at the Hair Cuttery, said "OK, so I have my marching orders mom, and apparently that's all there is to it"
I happen to think LaNae absolutely ROCKS, because as rarely as I am able to visit her chair, she never fails to make me look better than when I walked in the door. And she helped make my clone smile THAT much with her first "official" haircut not performed by mom.
DevilDog came home from work, started making small talk asking what we did today. I waited for him to notice the hair 6 or 8 inches shorter...and in the middle of a sentence he said "HEY! you got your hair cut!" Then got no specifics from me when interrogated about Clone's hair. I told him she wanted it that way. I commented that he wasn't mad about my hair and that was met with something affirming the fact that I'm a grown woman with my own mind and ability to choose my hair style. He grunted something about Clone's hair not meeting with approval, him taking care of her hair till she was 16, and some other stuff that quite honestly, I didn't hear over my own cackling at him. He was so disturbed by this, it apparently required beer. He's not really talking to me at the moment. But that's ok. I'm incredibly bemused by his disturbance, and just typing this blog post is an exercise in stifling my laughter.

Curb your enthusiasm

Yes, it's also the name of a BBC television show I used to watch when I lived at Camp LeJune. The neighbor got me hooked on it for a while. Sometimes I miss my stupid old days. But this post was not for waxing nostalgic.

Nope.

Not. At. All.

This post was to celebrate ... er.. commemorate a significant event in my family's life


Snagged rather shamelessly with permission from Rick because he's just generous like that. I'm assuming he found me because I threw my two pennies in over on Dawn's blog. I've got a boring life by comparison so I go visit her to remind myself of this fact.

Grown woman giggles worse than my daughter

My friend Persnickety got a package today. The contents made her giggle worse than my daughter while being tickled. It was nonstop, complete with snorting, gasping and attempts to regain composure. It was JUST the laugh I needed after the spawn-induced stress I had this evening. Amid her inane giggling, she read me the "idiot clause" accompanying her package contents. Nope, it didn't even have an instruction manual either.

Trolling adventures with babies

Not sure entirely HOW I came across this other blog except I clicked links in other bloggers' posts and opened a new tab and lo and behold I have new entertainment. I love the randomness of some blogs. I find it exceptionally hilarious that it was posted on a very Catholic blog too. Who said God had no sense of humor? Oh wait, if that was you, then you obviously didn't pay attention to ... well anything. Go back under your rock after you read that blog. If you're going to act like a mushroom, at least be entertained while you're there.