Quote Of The Day
November 13, 2005
“No, they are made from real dogs.”
said by my 6 year old when he was asked if we were roasting vegetarian hot dogs over the bonfire.
I didn’t know whether I should laugh that all this time he has thought I was serving him dog, or be horrified that a child who finds things like mashed potatoes, chicken, and applesauce too offensive to eat, would willingly eat what he believed to be dog.
Posted by Chris @ 10:30 pm
In Which I Over Use Quotation Marks and Euphemisms
November 11, 2005
and show that it is a very fine line between sharing and oversharing.
“I have to bring another “sample” to the doctor tomorrow.”
“Oh boy! Lucky you.”
“The doctor gave me the container to bring home so I could have some “help” getting the “sample”.”
“Oh boy! Lucky me!”
Time passes, “help” is rendered, and the “sample” is obtained.
“The doctor said I need to bring a “sample” in every day for an entire month.”
Posted by Chris @ 7:42 am
November 10, 2005
Eleven years ago I went to bed, feeling like I would be pregnant forever.
Eleven years ago at 3:00am my water broke while I was sleeping.
Eleven years ago at 3:01am, I had my first contraction and panicked because OH MY GOD it really hurts and who knows how long this is going to last. I don’t even like to do things that feel good for hours on end.
Eleven years ago at 3:03am, I had my second contraction and the realization hit me that this baby was really going to have to exit my body.
Eleven years ago at 3:05am, I had my third contraction and decided I wanted all the drugs that the hospital could give me and I wanted them right now and why wasn’t Rob moving more quickly. Who cares if he isn’t dressed.
Eleven years ago I threw the telephone across the room when the doctor told me to try to talk through a contraction so he could assess if it was time to come to the hospital. When Rob retrieved the phone the doctor said, yes it would appear to be time.
Eleven years ago we walked out the front door of our apartment as a family of two for the last time.
Eleven years ago when a nurse told me she had four children I told her she was crazy. That anyone who would go through this more than once was crazy. And then I cried because my baby was going to be an only child.
Eleven years ago I pushed for three hours before telling the doctor that I changed my mind, I really didn’t want a baby thankyouverymuch, and please just make it stop.
Eleven years ago the doctor attached a vacuum to the top of your head and pulled you from my body. I think we both screamed.
Eleven years ago a piece of my heart began living outside of my own body and I would never be the same again.
Eleven years ago I began this journey of motherhood; eleven years later I am still navigating the way with you in the lead.
Happy Eleventh Birthday, my first born son.
Posted by Chris @ 8:52 pm
My Dentist Loves Me, or More Accurately My Money
November 9, 2005
“Remember when I said that I was committed to flossing my teeth twice a day for the rest of my life?”
“Well tonight when I was flossing I think I was a little overzealous. I yanked one of my fillings right out.”
“I told you flossing is highly over rated.”
“One day the ADA is going to do a complete reversal on the entire flossing thing. Mark my words. I should write this down because one day no one will ever believe I said it first.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll write it down for you.”
“That way when all your teeth fall out from advanced gum disease I can bring it up. I’m loving like that.”
Posted by Chris @ 3:23 pm
When Actions Speak Louder Than Words
November 7, 2005
For those of you interested, my newest post is up over at dotmoms.
Posted by Chris @ 10:26 pm
We’re Off To See The Wiggles, The Wonderful Wiggles From Oz
November 5, 2005
A decade ago if you had told me that I would be spending my Friday night going to a Wiggles show, I would not have believed it.
A decade ago if you had told me that I would be looking forward to it, I would have laughed.
A decade ago if you told me that I wouldn’t want to spend my Friday evening any other way, I would have called you crazy.
A decade ago I could not have known that seeing my child’s eyes light up at the sight of four grown men dressed in colored shirts, singing insipid songs, and overacting would fill me with such joy.
A decade ago I could not have imagined that the happiness of my child would matter so much.
Posted by Chris @ 9:50 pm
November 4, 2005
There is a loud banging on the bathroom door.
“Mom, what are you doing?” a voice says. I can tell that the lips of the person are pressed right up against the crack of the door.
“Uh, I am using the bathroom.” I answer.
“Using it for what?”
“Do I really need to give you details of my bathroom habits?”
“Well, I hear paper rustling.”
“It’s the toilet paper, I think.”
“No it’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I can smell candy through the door. And don’t try to tell me that is how your poop smells.”
Posted by Chris @ 6:44 am
Bringing New Meaning To The Term Soup Kitchen
November 3, 2005
My husband has a full size refrigerator/freezer at his office. In the year he has been working at this office a few people have occasionally made use of the refrigerator for storing their lunches. The freezer, however, has always been completely empty.
A couple of months ago, Rob decided that he would bring some food in to put in the freezer, so that when those days arise where he can’t go out for lunch, because he is too busy, doesn’t have the inclination, or whatever the case may be, he can go to the freezer take out a hot pocket or something similar and microwave it. And there, instant lunch! He brought a couple of boxes and stacked them neatly in the back corner of the freezer. The rest of the freezer remained empty and unused.
That is until yesterday.
Rob went into the freezer to get his last hot pocket and found this:
The entire freezer is filled with containers of soup.
He stood there looking at it in disbelief, wondering if it was some sort of practical joke, when one of the secretaries, or whatever the more politically correct word is now, came into the room.
“Do you know what is up with all this soup?” he asked.
“Oh yes, it’s mine.” she answered, “I just love soup.”
And here we come to reason #432 of why I could never have a job where I had to work with people. I would have been forced to say something like, “What the hell do you mean you love soup? Don’t you have freezer space at your own home? Are you anticipating a soup shortage and stocking up for the long cold winter?”
And then I would have taken a picture of it and posted it on my blog. I like soup too, just in moderation.
I have been giggling about it all day. Yes, it doesn’t take much to excite me as evidenced by yesterdays post. I forced Rob to go with his camera phone and take a picture of it for me. I just had to see the former cool whip and butter containers pressed into service as tupperware.
I was not disappointed.
Posted by Chris @ 3:32 pm
In Which You All Will Wish You Were Me
November 2, 2005
This morning while showering I forced to make a difficult decision. Do I:
A) shower while a screaming baby bangs on the shower door because he can’t see me clearly through the frosted glass. “Oh My God, I HAVE NOT YET LEARNED OBJECT PERMANENCE, therefore my mother (and more importantly the breasts which are attached to her) has ceased to exist. Woe is me.” or,
B) shower with the shower door open, simultaneously flooding the bathroom and freezing my butt off in spite of having the water temperature set to scald.
Guess which one I chose?
In other related news, I washed my bathroom floor today.
My life is so damn exciting that I can hardly stand it sometimes.
Posted by Chris @ 2:59 pm
Dear Diary, It Was Halloween
November 1, 2005
Yesterday we finished up the carving of the jack-o-lanterns. My oldest three sons all carved their own this year. I was a bit leery at first to allow it since sharp knives are involved, but in the end I relented with strong warnings not to cut themselves because I was NOT going to the emergency room and would sew them up with thread from my sewing kit.
It was after setting all the pumpkins out on the front porch for display that it came to my attention that I didn’t have any candles to put inside them. Thus began my foray into
swearing the attic and into our Christmas decorations where I was positive I had some small candles. Many expletives boxes later I found some that I was able to cut in half, as well as a very lovely smelling apple blossom candle. At least I think it would have been lovely smelling if it wasn’t mixed with the stench of pumpkin.
I got everyone into their costumes at 4:00pm in anticipation of our town weenie roast which began at 5:00. And as a testament to my immaturity, I couldn’t say weenie roast without giggling or making hollow weenie jokes.
Before we left, I broke up several sword fights, duct taped a broken knight sword back together, warned Indiana Jones not to whip anyone, put 14 batteries into 7 flashlights, replaced batteries in my camera again, sewed a stuffed parrot onto my 10yr olds shoulder, convinced my daughter that she could not go trick-or-treating naked, and yelled, “I’m doing this for you, I don’t really care if you get candy tonight or not. I’d be perfectly happy staying home!”
I sat everyone outside on the front porch, where I forced them to fiend happiness and took their pictures so we could remember this joyous moment forever.
Our town closes off the little “downtown” area and everyone trick-or-treats there. In the weeks leading up to Halloween the little general store has a bin out for candy donations that are then distributed to the people who live on those few streets. It is so quaint and sweet that you think you have stepped into a Norman Rockwell painting, well if he painted scenes filled with scream masks, jedi knights, and clowns. So maybe more like if Norman Rockwell had taken acid and then painted.
Rob got home at 5:00 and we headed “downtown”, met up with some friends, ate some weenies, and began our candy gathering in earnest. Some the kid’s friends were dressed up as Jedi Knights so we were treated to a lightsaber duel between Darth Vadar and several Jedi Knights while we ate. Who says small towns offer no entertainment? As it got darker and darker, and colder and colder, we realized that we had left all the flashlights behind which made it increasingly difficult to see the kids as they ran ahead of us on the street. It also made it difficult for me to spot people in time to divert the stroller from their path.
The baby was less than impressed with his costume and eventually fell asleep, sparing the rest of the town his ear piercing shrieks, no matter how holiday appropriate they sounded.
It was about half way through the evening when we came upon our favorite house. Where we were treated to wine. I’ll give it a minute to sink in. YES, wine! I know. Now you all want to come trick-or-treating with me, don’t you? But you can’t.
As Rob and I finished up our wine, our chatting with friends, and our walking up the street to the next house, we suddenly realized the limitations of our multi-tasking. We were missing our wee pirate.
(I have to preface this by saying that at no point were we worried that something bad had happened to him, I was just talking to him a few minutes prior to discovering he wasn’t with us. I was worried that he would be scared.)
We ran around to the neighboring houses and finally heard someone yelling, “Does someone need a little pirate?” I yelled back, “Well, need might be a little strong, but we have grown rather used to him.” He wasn’t the least bit upset, because in his own words, “I had all my candy with me.”
And we soldiered on, braving long dark driveway after long dark driveway, for our fun sized treats. My daughter really got the hang of it and laid the cuteness on so thick people couldn’t help but give her several pieces of candy.
We ended our evening by stopping in at the small apartment complex for the elderly. The old people love seeing the kids and so I try to hold my breath and not breathe in that smell of lysol, bleach and death that permeates the building. I was a bit put off by the person who was walking around the building wearing a hazmat suit complete with respirator. Rob maintains that it was a costume, but I don’t think so.
From there Rob made a quick stop at the liquor store for our own bottle wine and we headed home with our loot. Our town may be very very small, but it does manage to support two coffee shops, a pizza place, a restaurant, and a bustling liquor store.
We went home, poured all of our candy out on the floor, ate it until we thought we might puke from either a) the eating of so much candy, or b) the witnessing of the eating of so much candy. Then we brushed AND flossed our teeth and all those under 5ft tall were sent to bed.
And I drank wine. And uploaded pictures. And it was good.
But even more importantly, it was over, until next year.
And if you read all the way to the end of this, I am impressed. Get yourself a glass of wine, you deserve it.
Posted by Chris @ 9:32 am