November seems to be the month to write. A lot.
I could never keep up. I wish that I could. I applaud those of you who do.
Instead, I have given myself the challenge of writing about the things that I am thankful for.
It seems that life these days is filled up with more and faster and gimme gimme gimme and I want and it's not my fault and they started it - both at home and in the world at large...
To combat some of this, our family has started a tradition at dinner time of sharing
something about the day, and sharing something that we are thankful for. Usually, it's just the common things that we are thankful for: a lunch packed for school by dad who puts in a note. Or the beans that I don't have to eat because mom said I only have to eat as many beans as I am years old. I can get 5 in one bite!
Sometimes, it's a little more profound:
I am thankful for my sister who read Pinkalicious to me when I asked her to.
I am thankful for Coco and Zoe.
I am thankful for laughing.
I am thankful that my family loves me even when I shout. Alot.
So, what are you thankful for?
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Saturday, November 10, 2007
It's my birthday!
YEEE HAW!
It's my birthday! And I am doing a happy dance. I am off from school for 2 whole weeks - do I need to explain the sheer joy I feel in that simple thing along? My husband has planned a party for tonight - I think. I'm pretty certain. We're doing something. He won't tell me what it is. All of my friends have dropped off the face of the earth or are acting particularly odd. As long as it involves a martini, it's all good.
Then, after a night of wild behavior - which of course I will share with all of you. I have no shame - I am packing a suitcase for everyone in my family (because, apparently, only moms know how to pack suitcases), we're loadin' up the family vacation truckster and headin' off the the Wisconsin Dells. In November. A vacation destination for sunny midwestern summers. Lots of out door water parks and not much else. It's going to be very very quiet!
YEEE HAW!
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
guilt shmilt
I am sick and tired of feeling guilty.
About what? you ask.
Well, about everything.
It's pathetic. Really.
OK, fine. I'll list them for you, if you insist.
I am tired of feeling guilty about eating that last chocolate chip cookie. You know. The one I'd promised to save for Noni. The one that I will look into her little blue eyes and tell a bold faced lie to - Huh. No, honey, I guess that I don't know what cookie you are talking about. Maybe, your dad ate it...? - The cookie that I ate after 9:00 PM. After I'd already brushed my teeth. After I'd let the dog out and after told Daddyman that I was going up to bed because, Oh, I am so tired... The cookie that I was certain that he'd eat if I didn't get to it first. So, I got there first. And I ate it. In two bites.
Yea. That cookie.
I am tired of feeling guilty about not raking the leaves off of my lawn. I know that the leaves will give my grass some strange mold. I know that my neighbors think it looks trashy. I know that next spring it's going to be impossible to have a nice looking yard - but, heck, I've already got 3 kids and a dog who poops everywhere. The dog. Not the kids. That I know of - why should I even bother trying? So what if the kids would love to jump into the pile so mommy can rake them up again so they can jump in it again so mommy has to rake them up AGAIN. I don't really care. I call it yard art. Get used to it.
I am tired of feeling guilty for telling my girls to keep their rooms tidy, when all I've done is shove every piece of clothing I've ever owned into my closet and then wedged the door closed. You know, the 18 black sweaters that look exactly the same to Daddyman - How could you possibly need another black sweater? Don't you already have like, 20? - No. More like 18. But I can't seem to find one right now. So what if they are in a jumble in the bottom of the closet under the muddy boots that I wore to the pony ranch last weekend Yes, the same closet that I finally had to put a curtain on in place of a solid door because I couldn't lock the avalanche of black sweaters inside! Yes, the same mountain of clothes that the dog and cat sleep on. At the same time. Yes, I know that they hate each other. They can't even find each other once they've entered my closet. Yes, the same closet that the girls quit playing in because they'd get hurt falling over the 24 pairs of black shoes that never found their way into the boxes on the shelves again. I still think that the girls should keep their rooms tidy. It will help when they grow up and have to keep their own homes tidy (HAHAHAHAHA - what a stupid 'girl' thing to say. I promise, I would say the same thing if I had a son.) Can't you see what keeping my childhood bedroom neat and tidy has done for me as an adult?
I'm tired of feeling guilty about putting the milk in the cupboard. Instead of the fridge. Several times. I've obviously got other things to think about. Like all of these feelings of guilt.
I'm tire of feeling guilty about not taking my dog for a walk. Ever. Yes, the dog who looks at me with big, dopey eyes. The same dog that sleeps on my bed every night. Actually, he doesn't sleep as much as snore himself awake over and over and over again. That's how I know that he needs to go for a daily walk. He has sleep Apnea. How do I know that? you ask. Because he's fat. Because I don't take him for a walk. Because I don't own a pair of sneakers and thus, I am fat, too. So just one more thing to feel guilty about. I could just get the poor fat dog a Breathe Right Strip, but I don't think they come in Black Lab. I know they come in clear petite. It's the only think petite on me and I don't mind bragging. I use them every night. Did I mention I need to buy sneakers. But I can't just go out and buy myself a pair of sneakers because I feel the weight of so much guilt resting on my poor, tired shoulders that I can't hoist my big, fat ass off the couch to go an buy myself a pair of sneakers because who can justify $150 bucks on a pair of shoes just to walk the dog when I have 3 little kids who need to eat and I, obviously, need another black sweater to try to camouflage my fat ass.
Oh crap.
All of this guilt. I'm going to go hunt for another chocolate chip cookie.
Don't tell anyone!
About what? you ask.
Well, about everything.
It's pathetic. Really.
OK, fine. I'll list them for you, if you insist.
I am tired of feeling guilty about eating that last chocolate chip cookie. You know. The one I'd promised to save for Noni. The one that I will look into her little blue eyes and tell a bold faced lie to - Huh. No, honey, I guess that I don't know what cookie you are talking about. Maybe, your dad ate it...? - The cookie that I ate after 9:00 PM. After I'd already brushed my teeth. After I'd let the dog out and after told Daddyman that I was going up to bed because, Oh, I am so tired... The cookie that I was certain that he'd eat if I didn't get to it first. So, I got there first. And I ate it. In two bites.
Yea. That cookie.
I am tired of feeling guilty about not raking the leaves off of my lawn. I know that the leaves will give my grass some strange mold. I know that my neighbors think it looks trashy. I know that next spring it's going to be impossible to have a nice looking yard - but, heck, I've already got 3 kids and a dog who poops everywhere. The dog. Not the kids. That I know of - why should I even bother trying? So what if the kids would love to jump into the pile so mommy can rake them up again so they can jump in it again so mommy has to rake them up AGAIN. I don't really care. I call it yard art. Get used to it.
I am tired of feeling guilty for telling my girls to keep their rooms tidy, when all I've done is shove every piece of clothing I've ever owned into my closet and then wedged the door closed. You know, the 18 black sweaters that look exactly the same to Daddyman - How could you possibly need another black sweater? Don't you already have like, 20? - No. More like 18. But I can't seem to find one right now. So what if they are in a jumble in the bottom of the closet under the muddy boots that I wore to the pony ranch last weekend Yes, the same closet that I finally had to put a curtain on in place of a solid door because I couldn't lock the avalanche of black sweaters inside! Yes, the same mountain of clothes that the dog and cat sleep on. At the same time. Yes, I know that they hate each other. They can't even find each other once they've entered my closet. Yes, the same closet that the girls quit playing in because they'd get hurt falling over the 24 pairs of black shoes that never found their way into the boxes on the shelves again. I still think that the girls should keep their rooms tidy. It will help when they grow up and have to keep their own homes tidy (HAHAHAHAHA - what a stupid 'girl' thing to say. I promise, I would say the same thing if I had a son.) Can't you see what keeping my childhood bedroom neat and tidy has done for me as an adult?
I'm tired of feeling guilty about putting the milk in the cupboard. Instead of the fridge. Several times. I've obviously got other things to think about. Like all of these feelings of guilt.
I'm tire of feeling guilty about not taking my dog for a walk. Ever. Yes, the dog who looks at me with big, dopey eyes. The same dog that sleeps on my bed every night. Actually, he doesn't sleep as much as snore himself awake over and over and over again. That's how I know that he needs to go for a daily walk. He has sleep Apnea. How do I know that? you ask. Because he's fat. Because I don't take him for a walk. Because I don't own a pair of sneakers and thus, I am fat, too. So just one more thing to feel guilty about. I could just get the poor fat dog a Breathe Right Strip, but I don't think they come in Black Lab. I know they come in clear petite. It's the only think petite on me and I don't mind bragging. I use them every night. Did I mention I need to buy sneakers. But I can't just go out and buy myself a pair of sneakers because I feel the weight of so much guilt resting on my poor, tired shoulders that I can't hoist my big, fat ass off the couch to go an buy myself a pair of sneakers because who can justify $150 bucks on a pair of shoes just to walk the dog when I have 3 little kids who need to eat and I, obviously, need another black sweater to try to camouflage my fat ass.
Oh crap.
All of this guilt. I'm going to go hunt for another chocolate chip cookie.
Don't tell anyone!
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
a complete guide to singin' the blues
My Dad sent this to me. Maybe you've seen it. Maybe not. Made me laugh out loud. Thought I'd share it with you. Hope you like it, too.
A BLUES PRIMER
1. Most Blues begin with: "Woke up this morning..."
2. "I got a good woman" is a bad way to begin the Blues, unless you stick something nasty in the next line like, "I got a good woman, with the meanest face in town."
3. The Blues is simple. After you get the first line right, repeat it. Then find something that rhymes, "sort of":
"Got a good woman with the meanest face in town. Yes, I got a good woman with the meanest face in town. Got teeth like Margaret Thatcher and she weighs 500 pound."
4. The Blues is not about choice. You stuck in a ditch, you stuck in a ditch... Ain't no way out.
5. Blues cars: Chevys, Fords, old Cadillacs and broken-down trucks. Blues don't travel in Volvos, BMWs, or sport utility vehicles. Most Blues transportation is a Greyhound bus or a southbound train. Jet aircraft ain't even in the running. Walkin' plays a major part in the Blues lifestyle. So does fixin' to die.
6. Teenagers can't sing the Blues; they ain't fixin' to die yet. Adults sing the Blues. In Blues, "adulthood" means being old enough to get the electric chair if you shot a man in Memphis.
7. Blues can take place in New York City but not in Hawaii or anywhere in Canada. Hard times in Minneapolis or Seattle is probably just clinical depression. Chicago, St. Louis and Kansas City are still the best places to have the Blues. You cannot have the Blues in any place that doesn't get rain.
8. You can't have no Blues in an office or a shopping mall; the lighting is wrong. Go outside to the parking lot and sit by the dumpster.
9. Good places for the Blues:
a. Highway
b. Jailhouse
c. Empty bed
d. Bottom of a whiskey glass
10. Bad places for the Blues:
a. Nordstrom's.
b. Gallery openings.
c. Ivy League institutions.
d. Golf courses.
11. No one will believe it's the Blues if you wear a suit, 'less you happen to be an old guy - and you slept in it.
12. Do you have the right to sing the Blues?
Yes, if:
a. You're older than dirt.
b. You're blind.
c. You shot a man in Memphis.
d. You can't be satisfied.
No, if:
a. You have all your teeth.
b. You were once blind but now can see.
c. The man in Memphis lived.
d. You have a 401K or trust fund.
13. Blues is not a matter of color; it's a matter of bad luck. Tiger Woods cannot sing the Blues. Sonny Liston could have. Ugly white people also got a leg up on the Blues.
14. If you ask for water and your darlin' give you gasoline, it's the Blues. Other acceptable Blues beverages are:
a. Cheap wine.
b. Whiskey or bourbon.
c. Muddy water.
d. Black coffee.
The following are not Blues beverages:
a. Perrier.
b. Chardonnay.
c. Snapple.
d. Slim Fast.
15. If death occurs in a cheap motel or a shotgun shack, it's a Blues death. Stabbed in the back by a jealous lover is another Blues way to die. So are the electric chair, substance abuse and dying lonely on a broken-down cot. You can't have a Blues death if you die during a tennis match or while getting liposuction.
16. Some Blues names for women:
a. Alma.
b. Big Mama.
c. Bessie.
d. Fat River Dumpling.
17. Some Blues names for men:
a. Joe.
b. Willie.
c. Little Willie.
d. Big Willie.
18. Persons with names like Michelle, Amber, Jennifer, Debbie, and Heather can't sing the Blues, no matter how many men they shot in Memphis.
19. Make your own Blues name starter kit:
a. Name of physical infirmity (Blind, Cripple, Lame, Ugly, etc.)
b. First name (see above) plus name of fruit (Lemon, Lime, Kiwi, etc.)
c. Last name of a President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore, etc.)
For example: Blind Lime Jefferson, Jakeleg Lemon Johnson or Cripple Kiwi Fillmore, etc. (Well, maybe not "Kiwi.")
20. I don't care how tragic your life: if you own a computer, you cannot sing the Blues.
I'd love to see what kind of blues you all come up with out there in Blog-Land. Of course, that's breaking a few of the Blues Rules... But aren't the blues all about broken rules anyway?
A BLUES PRIMER
1. Most Blues begin with: "Woke up this morning..."
2. "I got a good woman" is a bad way to begin the Blues, unless you stick something nasty in the next line like, "I got a good woman, with the meanest face in town."
3. The Blues is simple. After you get the first line right, repeat it. Then find something that rhymes, "sort of":
"Got a good woman with the meanest face in town. Yes, I got a good woman with the meanest face in town. Got teeth like Margaret Thatcher and she weighs 500 pound."
4. The Blues is not about choice. You stuck in a ditch, you stuck in a ditch... Ain't no way out.
5. Blues cars: Chevys, Fords, old Cadillacs and broken-down trucks. Blues don't travel in Volvos, BMWs, or sport utility vehicles. Most Blues transportation is a Greyhound bus or a southbound train. Jet aircraft ain't even in the running. Walkin' plays a major part in the Blues lifestyle. So does fixin' to die.
6. Teenagers can't sing the Blues; they ain't fixin' to die yet. Adults sing the Blues. In Blues, "adulthood" means being old enough to get the electric chair if you shot a man in Memphis.
7. Blues can take place in New York City but not in Hawaii or anywhere in Canada. Hard times in Minneapolis or Seattle is probably just clinical depression. Chicago, St. Louis and Kansas City are still the best places to have the Blues. You cannot have the Blues in any place that doesn't get rain.
8. You can't have no Blues in an office or a shopping mall; the lighting is wrong. Go outside to the parking lot and sit by the dumpster.
9. Good places for the Blues:
a. Highway
b. Jailhouse
c. Empty bed
d. Bottom of a whiskey glass
10. Bad places for the Blues:
a. Nordstrom's.
b. Gallery openings.
c. Ivy League institutions.
d. Golf courses.
11. No one will believe it's the Blues if you wear a suit, 'less you happen to be an old guy - and you slept in it.
12. Do you have the right to sing the Blues?
Yes, if:
a. You're older than dirt.
b. You're blind.
c. You shot a man in Memphis.
d. You can't be satisfied.
No, if:
a. You have all your teeth.
b. You were once blind but now can see.
c. The man in Memphis lived.
d. You have a 401K or trust fund.
13. Blues is not a matter of color; it's a matter of bad luck. Tiger Woods cannot sing the Blues. Sonny Liston could have. Ugly white people also got a leg up on the Blues.
14. If you ask for water and your darlin' give you gasoline, it's the Blues. Other acceptable Blues beverages are:
a. Cheap wine.
b. Whiskey or bourbon.
c. Muddy water.
d. Black coffee.
The following are not Blues beverages:
a. Perrier.
b. Chardonnay.
c. Snapple.
d. Slim Fast.
15. If death occurs in a cheap motel or a shotgun shack, it's a Blues death. Stabbed in the back by a jealous lover is another Blues way to die. So are the electric chair, substance abuse and dying lonely on a broken-down cot. You can't have a Blues death if you die during a tennis match or while getting liposuction.
16. Some Blues names for women:
a. Alma.
b. Big Mama.
c. Bessie.
d. Fat River Dumpling.
17. Some Blues names for men:
a. Joe.
b. Willie.
c. Little Willie.
d. Big Willie.
18. Persons with names like Michelle, Amber, Jennifer, Debbie, and Heather can't sing the Blues, no matter how many men they shot in Memphis.
19. Make your own Blues name starter kit:
a. Name of physical infirmity (Blind, Cripple, Lame, Ugly, etc.)
b. First name (see above) plus name of fruit (Lemon, Lime, Kiwi, etc.)
c. Last name of a President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore, etc.)
For example: Blind Lime Jefferson, Jakeleg Lemon Johnson or Cripple Kiwi Fillmore, etc. (Well, maybe not "Kiwi.")
20. I don't care how tragic your life: if you own a computer, you cannot sing the Blues.
I'd love to see what kind of blues you all come up with out there in Blog-Land. Of course, that's breaking a few of the Blues Rules... But aren't the blues all about broken rules anyway?
Monday, November 5, 2007
she got me!
I've been tagged by Nikki at i, wright and I promised to answer these 5 questions. Beware, there may be more information than you'd care to know about me...
1. I absolutely love… to laugh. My kids make me laugh. My husband makes me laugh. The brilliance of life and this world make me laugh! I am astounded at how wonderful things can be - what a tremendous gift! Basically, I just think that life is too short to be grumpy all of the time. Of course, I get fiercely crabby at times - just ask Daddyman - but I inevitably revert to my lazy state of happiness.
2. I don’t care if… things go wonky. There is not much in this world that can't be made right again. A last minute party, the minor dings and bumps of life, money woes... it all can be solved. I have found that whatever I need will be available when I need it. So, I take a deep breath and move forward.
3. I like to… sing. Loudly. In the privacy of my own home or car. I sing pretty well, but I almost never know the lyrics to popular songs. I just make up my own. It drives most people absolutely bonkers, hence the "in the privacy of ..." My kids even tell me to stop singing.
4. I play…a mean game of poker. I don't know all of the games, but I am a pretty good gambler. Ha!
5. I have a horrible habit of… being late. I don't like being late, it just happens. I get busy doing something else, or that "one more thing before we go." I know that it is completely rude (certainly not my intention), but I get sort of distracted. I think that it's genetic. My parents were never the most timely people as I was growing-up... c'est la vie.
6. I will never… be a stripper. Oh, I kind of like the naughtiness of that idea, but - c'mon - I've got way too many clothes to take off and it sort of ruins the mystique. Besides, I'd get the giggles and ruin the mood.
1. I absolutely love… to laugh. My kids make me laugh. My husband makes me laugh. The brilliance of life and this world make me laugh! I am astounded at how wonderful things can be - what a tremendous gift! Basically, I just think that life is too short to be grumpy all of the time. Of course, I get fiercely crabby at times - just ask Daddyman - but I inevitably revert to my lazy state of happiness.
2. I don’t care if… things go wonky. There is not much in this world that can't be made right again. A last minute party, the minor dings and bumps of life, money woes... it all can be solved. I have found that whatever I need will be available when I need it. So, I take a deep breath and move forward.
3. I like to… sing. Loudly. In the privacy of my own home or car. I sing pretty well, but I almost never know the lyrics to popular songs. I just make up my own. It drives most people absolutely bonkers, hence the "in the privacy of ..." My kids even tell me to stop singing.
4. I play…a mean game of poker. I don't know all of the games, but I am a pretty good gambler. Ha!
5. I have a horrible habit of… being late. I don't like being late, it just happens. I get busy doing something else, or that "one more thing before we go." I know that it is completely rude (certainly not my intention), but I get sort of distracted. I think that it's genetic. My parents were never the most timely people as I was growing-up... c'est la vie.
6. I will never… be a stripper. Oh, I kind of like the naughtiness of that idea, but - c'mon - I've got way too many clothes to take off and it sort of ruins the mystique. Besides, I'd get the giggles and ruin the mood.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
love and pandemonium
Well, we survived the blitz of a dozen or so smallish people that came to celebrate the birth of our dear, sweet Noni. She is six years old. She is a wonderful person - so full of emotion and tenderness and curiosity and humor and... She is simply amazing!
Big sigh.
The Cake:
I happened to mention that I was in search of a cake to fulfill my daughter's wish of having a birthday-wedding cake while I was in the lunchroom at work. I just happened to mention this in front of a woman who is in the process of starting her own catering business. She just happened to offer her services - for a fee. I just happen to think that having someone else bake a baby pink frosted cake with purple fairy dust and a mini-Noni on top, plus a ridiculously rich chocolate cake for the grown-ups AND that same someone will deliver it to my home is totally worth $50!
The kids loved the fairy dust and the mini-Noni. They hated the cake. It was super yummy. What do they know?
The crush:
This is the Fabulous August watching Noni open the present that he brought for her. He is so sweet. The crush is mutual. He smiled and told her that he'd picked out the present himself (a diary with a lock and a gigantic orange daisy ring.) He told his mom that he didn't care if there wasn't even one other boy at Noni's birthday party. (Turns out there were 4 other boys.) He would go to the party because he loves Noni and it was her birthday and she invited him.
Big sigh.
Is it possible to find your soul mate in Kindergarten? Is it too soon to wish that this nice, polite little boy would stay in Noni's life until she's ... 30, so they can get married and love each other forever?
These two just sort of stuck near to each other the whole day. They watched each other play, or played together. They ate cake together and brought each other juice boxes. They were gentle and kind and sort of spoke their own language. It was innocent and lovely. I am so glad that they feel the same thing for each other.
August, the Hero:
When Noni had to wait for her turn at the balloon rocket launcher, August took it upon himself to blow up her balloon with his own breath. Now, if any of you know the balloon rocket toy that I am referring to, you know that blowing up these super long, super skinny balloons is almost impossible for the average joe. Luckily, love knows no bounds. This kids is going to be an awesome trumpet player.
Happiness:
Noni said that the day was perfect. When we were lying in bed tonight, talking about the day - What was the best part of your day? - she said that she thought the day was almost perfect. She was wrapped in that sleepy warm happiness that comes at the end of a good day.
The only things that would have made the day a tiny bit better are
1.) she'd gotten a surprise in the "pass the parcel" game (She got one.) and,
2.) if I had given her another present today (she was gifted a pink Gameboy Advanced and a couple of games at the family party - plus, I think a party counts for something), and
3.) if August had been the first one at the party and the last one to leave.
Big sigh.
It was a great day. I can't believe that she is already 6 years old. It seems like yesterday that she was projectile vomiting across the living room of our haunted bungalow. Ohh, those days have gone by far too quickly.
Random Fabulous Kids at Noni's Fabulous Party:
Red Light, Green Light
Via the Spy
Dino-Boy
Cake, Yuck!
Singing the Song
Big sigh.
The Cake:
I happened to mention that I was in search of a cake to fulfill my daughter's wish of having a birthday-wedding cake while I was in the lunchroom at work. I just happened to mention this in front of a woman who is in the process of starting her own catering business. She just happened to offer her services - for a fee. I just happen to think that having someone else bake a baby pink frosted cake with purple fairy dust and a mini-Noni on top, plus a ridiculously rich chocolate cake for the grown-ups AND that same someone will deliver it to my home is totally worth $50!
The kids loved the fairy dust and the mini-Noni. They hated the cake. It was super yummy. What do they know?
The crush:
This is the Fabulous August watching Noni open the present that he brought for her. He is so sweet. The crush is mutual. He smiled and told her that he'd picked out the present himself (a diary with a lock and a gigantic orange daisy ring.) He told his mom that he didn't care if there wasn't even one other boy at Noni's birthday party. (Turns out there were 4 other boys.) He would go to the party because he loves Noni and it was her birthday and she invited him.
Big sigh.
Is it possible to find your soul mate in Kindergarten? Is it too soon to wish that this nice, polite little boy would stay in Noni's life until she's ... 30, so they can get married and love each other forever?
These two just sort of stuck near to each other the whole day. They watched each other play, or played together. They ate cake together and brought each other juice boxes. They were gentle and kind and sort of spoke their own language. It was innocent and lovely. I am so glad that they feel the same thing for each other.
August, the Hero:
When Noni had to wait for her turn at the balloon rocket launcher, August took it upon himself to blow up her balloon with his own breath. Now, if any of you know the balloon rocket toy that I am referring to, you know that blowing up these super long, super skinny balloons is almost impossible for the average joe. Luckily, love knows no bounds. This kids is going to be an awesome trumpet player.
Happiness:
Noni said that the day was perfect. When we were lying in bed tonight, talking about the day - What was the best part of your day? - she said that she thought the day was almost perfect. She was wrapped in that sleepy warm happiness that comes at the end of a good day.
The only things that would have made the day a tiny bit better are
1.) she'd gotten a surprise in the "pass the parcel" game (She got one.) and,
2.) if I had given her another present today (she was gifted a pink Gameboy Advanced and a couple of games at the family party - plus, I think a party counts for something), and
3.) if August had been the first one at the party and the last one to leave.
Big sigh.
It was a great day. I can't believe that she is already 6 years old. It seems like yesterday that she was projectile vomiting across the living room of our haunted bungalow. Ohh, those days have gone by far too quickly.
Random Fabulous Kids at Noni's Fabulous Party:
Red Light, Green Light
Via the Spy
Dino-Boy
Cake, Yuck!
Singing the Song
Thursday, November 1, 2007
sugar candied violet
OK. So, Noni's Birthday Whirl has gone really well... so far. She is so positive and happy and exuberant! We had the family party tonight. Oma and Papa went out to eat with our family. Noni got to choose the restaurant. She choose Old Country Buffet. Yack. But it's her birthday, and in our house, you can choose the place to eat and no one can say no. So... I think her night was sent over the top when the O.C. Bee was there. She ran up to The Bee and hugged him/her. It was like a reunion of long lost soul mates. I thought it was slightly frightening, but I am afraid of people in masks and body puppet costumes. I kept my distance, smiling and waving from a good 10 feet away. Then I got the giggles thinking about The O.C.Bee with O.C.D. Poor bee gets hugged by sticky, messy little kids who step on his/her shoes - and then runs to the bathroom for an antenna washing ritual...
This weekend is the big cake bash with all of the buddies. August is coming, too. I'll post pictures. We'll all be as fancy as we can be, I guess. Anyone have any good games for Kindergarten parties? Remember, it's a co-ed party. And, no, it's not a sleep-over!
The day has gone great so far but Noni has had way too much sugar. All of my kids have had too much sugar. Every child in a 20 block radius is hopped up on sugar, so calm it is not. My head is buzzing, my heart is pounding - I am feelin' the stress, and the results of too much sugar. So, to escape and kind of talk myself down a little, I did a little blog gazing. (It's like virtual yoga!) I stumbled upon this at Hiccup's blog, and gave it a whirl. Totally self-indulgent on my daughters birthday, I know. But heck, I can celebrate the fact that I carried this child into the world and have managed not to wreck her - yet.
Here's a question to all of you out there that are dealing with children and Halloween Candy - do you let your kids be the boss of their own candy or do you ration it? Was it the candy policy the same when you were a child, or are you doing things differently than your parents did when it comes to the Halloween Candy Control?
This weekend is the big cake bash with all of the buddies. August is coming, too. I'll post pictures. We'll all be as fancy as we can be, I guess. Anyone have any good games for Kindergarten parties? Remember, it's a co-ed party. And, no, it's not a sleep-over!
The day has gone great so far but Noni has had way too much sugar. All of my kids have had too much sugar. Every child in a 20 block radius is hopped up on sugar, so calm it is not. My head is buzzing, my heart is pounding - I am feelin' the stress, and the results of too much sugar. So, to escape and kind of talk myself down a little, I did a little blog gazing. (It's like virtual yoga!) I stumbled upon this at Hiccup's blog, and gave it a whirl. Totally self-indulgent on my daughters birthday, I know. But heck, I can celebrate the fact that I carried this child into the world and have managed not to wreck her - yet.
Here's a question to all of you out there that are dealing with children and Halloween Candy - do you let your kids be the boss of their own candy or do you ration it? Was it the candy policy the same when you were a child, or are you doing things differently than your parents did when it comes to the Halloween Candy Control?
#EE82EE |
Your dominant hues are red and blue. You're confident and like showing people new ideas. You play well with others and can be very influential if you want to be. Your saturation level is lower than average - You don't stress out over things and don't understand people who do. Finishing projects may sometimes be a challenge, but you schedule time as you see fit and the important things all happen in the end, even if not everyone sees your grand master plan. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything. |
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