an open letter

dear inventor of fleece sheets:

where have you been all my life? i love you.

thanks

get in line

the other day at wal-marts i was grocery shopping. and needed some laundry detergent. i can only get certain kinds of detergent. usually the one with no odor. or fragrance as they like to market it. i beg to differ. most give me an instant headache. kind of like that unscented dryer sheet i used the other day. i am half way through the box of these unscented dryer sheets. and i pull out a load from the dryer last week and instant headache. now, unscented dryer sheets don't have a smell. or so i thought. and especially when you are already half way done with the box. whatever. i had to wash the load again. anyway, so i decide to buy tide. not because it is three times as expensive as the other brands but because i know the regular scent does not affect my head. and it seems that the stink free versions just aren't getting our clothes the cleanest. and i need to find something that does. well good luck finding it. i counted twenty-six different kinds of tide. twenty-six. there is regular. mountain scent. lavender. and so on. then there is the kind with fabric softener. and it's not just one fabric softener. there are about three different scents of fabric softeners to chose from. and then you can get one for your high efficiency model washers. and all of those come in the above mentioned choices. who runs tide? general motors? i see another bail out coming.

needle in a haystack

so, i get this bright idea that the kids both need strings to attach to their mittens so they don't keep dropping them in the snow. we were still at my parent's house for the holiday and i thought my mom could just whip me some up. or i could go buy some. and then we read on the internet that those strings are no longer in use. because they can cause a hazard. like if they get caught in an escalator. and they don't break free. okay. good point. but it's funny how the internet can put the fear of god in you. every kid had them back in the day. it's like you can't have a string in your hood nowadays either. or lead paint. anyway, we think of another idea. we can use suspender clips. off to the fabric store we go. they don't sell the clips in pairs. they sell them individually. for four dollars a pop. we refuse to pay that much. and we are off across the parking lot. to goodwill. in search of old suspenders. zilch. the next day we are off to salvation army. we find some suspenders. and a bunch of other stuff we don't need. but neither one of us can pass up a good deal. the suspenders we found only had three clips per pair. and we need eight total. and one of the clips didn't hold well on one of the pairs. about two hours later i am looking in the woman's accessory section and what do i find but a pair of suspenders. black with pink polka dots. and black clips. three black clips. we still need two more. and you had better bet we are using that polka dot elastic for something too. we figured we had all that the store had and we would look again another day. but wait. on our way to the register we stop and look through the shirts. and my mom starts to laugh. which doesn't surprise me. we are always picking out the best shirts for each other. but this one was the show stopper. it was a white long sleeve shirt. with a pink patterned piece in the shape of the top of some overalls that was stitched on the front of the long sleeve part and the faux straps held on at the top with no other than suspender clips. one on each side. i. kid. you. not. if ever you need something you can call my mom. i swear she will find it. and i have no doubt that if we had not bought that shirt it would have remained on the rack until the year 3018. when it fell off the hanger. all by itself.

an open letter

dear ninety-nine point nine percent of all pottery barn outlet customers:

your shit stinks. just like everyone else's shit stinks. so do us all a favor. and get over yourselves. and furthermore, ninety-nine point nine percent of the merchandise appears to have fallen out of the delivery truck at one point, or five, before it reached the outlet store. and it's still outrageously expensive. but go ahead and knock yourselves out.

thanks

why ask why

but i am going to anyway. you know i am home for the holidays when on christmas day we rang in baby jesus' birthday with no other than a lifetime movie. thanks bill. anyway, today closed captioning is on. scrolling along the bottom of the screen. blocking all of the football scores. and yet the volume is so loud verna can hear it. and we are no longer even neighbors, as you all know, for what is going on to be well over twenty years. it leaves me to wonder why the deaf guy has control of the volume. yet again. or still.

last call

the other day my friend shel and i were trying to get in touch. except we couldn't. her phone doesn't actually ring any longer when someone calls it. and i always seem to leave my cell in my car. with no charge. we call ourselves organized chaos. we were trying to get our schedules together because both of us were spending christmas with our parents. in our hometown. shel finally got a new cell. but she couldn't activate it because once she did she would lose all of her contacts on her old phone. the phone was so old they couldn't even transfer the information from the old phone to the new phone. so she had to do it manually. i told her i didn't have that many friends. it wouldn't take me that long. she said it wasn't really all of her friends. it was more of all the takeout places. massage spas. and pedicure joints. that a girl, shel. that a girl.

merry christmas

man, santa. you're one. lucky. bastard. sorry i forgot the beer. ho. friggin. ho.

an open letter

dear children [my children]:

there is no such thing as santa claus. and i so kept all of the receipts. i hope you like your coal.

thanks

follow the leader

you may remember rudy the reindeer from our trip to hensler's nursery in the fall. we went back this weekend to see santa. there isn't a photo with santa. or even of santa. because neither kid would go within ear shot of his house. i will remind you that hensler's is over an hour drive from our house. at least they wanted to see rudy. and it's okay. i figured they weren't going to do it anyway. plus, they have killer sales in the barn at this time of year. i swear rudy remembered the kids. as soon as we walked up to the fence he came right over. both kids ran the fence line. 1,284 times. and rudy was right after them. 1,284 times. will yelled, 'come on, rudy! come on! you can do it!' 1,284 times. funny. my mom took me to san diego back when i was in college. my dad's annual convention was out there so we took advantage of the warmth. and god awful salty rotting beach air. must be an acquired smell. one i never want to smell. again. anyway, we of course took in the world famous san deigo zoo while we were there. my parents lived in california for a brief time when they first got married. they visited the san diego zoo. it had been over thirty years earlier at that point. while we were at the zoo we stopped to visit the camels. they were all toward the back of the enclosure. way back when my mom had a love affair with one leon the camel. at the sand diego zoo. i don't think he had a name. that she knew of. she just called him that. so, while we were standing there she calls out. to a leon. and i'll be damned if one of the camels made a beeline over to where we were standing. a long lost reunion. i wonder if rudy will live that long.

if the shoe fits

while we are on the subject of laundry. and getting divorced. this is a real gem. now this is when we were very first married. like in the first month. because we were still in my old apartment. my husband had moved to where i lived and took a job for the sake of having a job and it was about an hour and half to drive one way. but it was a job. so it made for some early mornings. most of those mornings he had already been showered and gone before i even got out of bed. as it was time for me to get dressed i reached for a pair of underwear. the said underwear was not only inside out but it was also not folded. why is my underwear clean, inside out and not folded in my underwear drawer i wondered. because my wonderful husband of about two minutes had done the laundry. i was furious. i was so furious i could not wait for him to get home. already. the day dragged on until i received a phone call in the afternoon. it was my husband. on his way home from work. i immediately asked him why my underwear was not only inside out but not folded. without one second of hesitation he replied that he didn't know something that small needed to be folded. and that, my friends, was the end of the conversation.

for best results

when my husband and i first got married we almost got divorced. over one. navy. blue. sweater. a wool navy blue sweater to be exact. it is very difficult for me to find things that i like to wear. let alone an actual sweater. that's navy. and wool. and fits. it's like trying to find obama's birth certificate. anyway, one morning i awoke before work and planned to wear my coveted wool navy blue sweater. i couldn't find it anywhere. i rifled through every closet in the house. i even looked in the dirty laundry. and then it hit me. i remembered that my husband had just done the laundry. you know, that stuff happens when you first get married. i went downstairs to the line that we had put up to dry our clothes on instead of having to use the dryer. and. there. it. was. on the line. and about a size 0 -3 months. now, it was one of those things where i couldn't be upset with him because he did actually do the laundry. but everyone knows you don't put wool in the wash. it goes to the drycleaner. after i explained this to him he said i could go and get another sweater. oh, whatever. i was reminded of this incident this afternoon. as i was doing laundry. there in the dirty clothes was a pair of his suit pants. wool suit pants. hello. bueller. anyone.

an open letter

dear dress shirt packaging guy:

i bought my husband several dress shirts the other day. there were eight straight pins in each shirt. eight. there was a cardboard sleeve tucked into the body of the shirt. complete with tissue paper. there was a plastic guard behind the top button. there was a cardboard sleeve underneath the collar. there was a fabric tab on one of the buttons redundantly stating that the shirt was care-free and wrinkle-resistant. the price tag already indicated that information. i was just wondering how much cheaper the shirts would have been if all of that crap wasn't a part of the packaging. one word. hanger.

thanks

thanks for nothing

i know you are all aware as you go for groceries that the packages are shrinking but the cost remains the same. or sometimes it has even increased. yadda. yadda. yadda. however, i noticed the other day that reynold's wrap is now offering five more additional feet of alumimum foil per roll for the same amount of money. oh, well thank god for that. since we all buy a roll of that every week. seems our prayers have been answered.

they don't make 'em like the used to

and i am thankful. i had forgotten about this one. until yesterday. when my trusted kitchen aid hand can opener reminded me that it can't seem to open a can any longer. for whatever reason. and no amount of cussing seems to help. you see, back when my mom and dad got married over forty years ago they received a can opener for a wedding gift. they still have it. you may have one of these gems in your family. it is pictured above. i hate this effing thing. i can't seem to use it. not once in my thirty-seven years. and swearing at it doesn't seem to help it either. my dad definitely can't use it. my sister can't use it. my mom is the only one in our immediate family, maybe on the face of the planet, that seems to know how to operate it. i would have thrown the thing out decades ago. it's a delicate balance of holding the can just right. pushing the handle down and releasing just at the right moment. all i get is a can that won't stay clamped and that annoying whirring sound. as if i need a reminder that the effing can i want to open is not in fact opening. the sound of failure. once again. and this can opener may be the very reason campbell's soup decided to put pull tab on their cans. any time anyone of us needs to have a can opened we don't even try. we call my mom away from whatever she is doing at the moment. so she can do it. i kind of hope every time it happens it will weaken her a little more to breakdown and buy a new opener. but it hasn't worked yet. the top photo is what happens when my mom and i are at garage sales and my husband has to open a can of fruit for the kids. with a screwdriver. and a hammer. i probably would have tried to open it with a little more pressure. like under my car tire. i have no doubt in my mind that my mother will live to be one hundred and forty-seven years old. and she will still have this effing can opener. and if i do happen to out live her i know for certain she will leave this effing can opener to me. and she will have the last laugh.

deck the walls

this was the tree as of 9:37 am yesterday morning. we had just gotten done decorating it. it had all of it's ornaments.

this is the tree as it stands. as of approximately 11:49 am yesterday morning. as you can see i had to move it. to a different wall. and a different height. about four feet off of the ground. because while i was changing will's diaper at approximately 11:44 am yesterday mister structo [miss destructo to anyone other than will] took it upon herself to take off an ornament. or two. and mash them up in her hand. while i was changing will. at least she showed them to me. i then got smart. and placed the tree four feet off the ground. the second time. so santa would have enough room to put all of sophie's coal under it. maybe i should move it up a little bit more.

an open letter

dear sophie:

the point of reusable stickers is to pull them off and put them back on. and repeat. not pull them off and crumple each and every single one of them up in your hands. and place them on the table.

thanks

you light up my life

last night was round 5,201 of the light tour. if we stay in our neighborhood there are lots of lights to take in. at least for a three year old. that begs to go every. single. night. each night he picks out something different that he wants to drive by again. and again. and again. on one of the courts there is a house with icicle lights. blinking icicle lights. not only do they turn on. and off. they turn from white to blue. and back again. and here is the conversation. from the backseat:

will (gasping): oooooh, blinky lights! they go from white to blue to white to blue. on and off. on and off.

me: which is your favorite color, will?

will (matter of factly): on and off.

then it was off to granger. to find santa in the window. from last week's tour. again. and again.

here's your sign

seriously. yummy pizza. they must have gotten this name from the chinese place. in elkhart. once again luring potential customers in with their name. funny. i would immediately pass on this too. but wait. there's a sign in the window. they do sell miller lite. pull tab for certain.

never fails

why is it when you pull into a parking spot or the garage and have to turn your car off the best song comes on the radio?

on the twelfth day of christmas

a few years back my mom started this thing she read in a magazine. called the twelve days of christmas. she does this now instead of stockings. you know, since her kids are now 37. and 41. the deal is that she buys twelve little gifts and wraps them individually. and on the 13th of december you start by opening one gift. and then open one gift per day until christmas. she does this for me. my sister. and my husband. it's not my sister's husband's kind of thing. so he doesn't get any. she also does this for my two nieces. but she calls it the twelve days of summer. because she does it for them when they visit her for a few weeks on their summer break. last year i started to do it for my mom. it's kind of fun to find the items. and of course, they are most always from a garage sale [aftermarket as we like to say], estate sales and even a few csd [curbside discounts for those who don't remember]. however, none of mine that i gift are csd. because i have not gone there in my lifetime. yet. one time my mom hurt her knee on a csd. trying to get it into the car. i'm glad she did though. it's one of my most favorite trunks. and i needed another one my husband will be quick to point out. anyway, we always leave the price tag on the stuff. just to show each other who got the best screaming deal. love it. today will be our first day to open a gift this year. since we are leaving town on the 24th we get to start a day early. no yunk. no yunk. all good snuff.

an open letter

dear dvd packaging guy:

please, for the love of god, have you ever tried opening one of your own packages?! first of all, one can never find a loose corner on your outer cellophane wrap. it takes at least seventeen minutes just to pry one loose. and 3,320,931 cuss words. and what seems to be an impossibility of overcoming the urge to gently toss the mother effing dvd across the room. unopened. and if you still have it in your hands when you finally do get a loose corner only two millimeters of cellophane come along with it. the next chunk comes off with ease only to find that it narrows the more you pull it until it breaks off when it hits an edge of the dvd. the last portion of cellophane is easy. it just pulls off of the one end. and after all that you go to open the box. but you can't. because there is a theft deterrent sticker on the top of the box. if you cannot catch me trying to steal the dvd out of the box in the store during the seventeen minutes it takes me to even start to get the cellophane wrapping off you should be fired. furthermore, the tab that is printed pull here should read dig here. and that makes me angry to now have a blemish on my nice, new dvd sleeve because you have to dig at it to start the removal of the theft deterrent tape. and after going through all of that your kid doesn't even like the dvd you bought.

thanks

and on the twenty-seventh day...

...the bandage finally was off. a few weeks ago will became a casualty of our log bed. he's not the first. and won't be the last. he slipped on one of the logs trying to get on it at the end of the bed. had he been wearing clothes this never would have happened. but he was going through a spell of diaper only. much to my disliking. but it did save me time on laundry. anyway, he scraped it up bad and it was bleeding pretty good. enter screaming fit. just when i thought it couldn't get worse i pulled out the bandages. 'no! no! no!' he cried. check that. screamed. directly into my right ear. i was trying to explain to him that he was bleeding. and he needed a bandage. but he couldn't hear me. because he was screaming. directly into my right ear. i think he thought he was getting a shot. because that was the only other time he ever needed a bandage. i couldn't even get anti-bacterial spray on it. the bandage was all i was going to get. i finally got the bandage on because i reminded will that frances has a bandage. on her bug bite. catastrophy diverted. until it was time to take it off. seriously. as much trouble as it was getting it on now he wouldn't let us take it off. if we even went near it he would scream bloody murder. it stayed on for twenty-seven days. and twenty-seven nights. through temper tantrums. through baths. through couch cushion forts. and it would have stayed on longer if my husband wouldn't have ripped it off last night. he tricked him. as he was getting his jammies on he grabbed it with his pants on the way off. will protested. just a little. but then couldn't wait to come and show me where his bandage had been. and you know if we would have wanted the bandage to stay on that long it would have lasted a day. if that.

another fine specimen

surely our neighbor again [thanks for sharing, brown].

on dasher

this was sent to me in an email [thank you, zmagic]. this has got to be one of my neighbors. no doubt.

i'm just saying

if we aren't supposed to insert q-tips directly into our ears than why do they make them small enough to fit?

thumpety, thump, thump

last night we went for a light tour. there have been some new additions all week. we should know. because it was our fifth light tour. this week. one house added a twelve foot inflated frosty the snowman to their collection. and will noticed it right away.

will: frosty!

me: yep, sure is. good spotting.

will: he has a corn dog pipe!

this little piggy

i went wal-marts today. the fifth of december. at 4 pm. i will never do this again. i had to get some christmas lights. we went to add some lighted garland around our front door. and discovered that the lights didn't work. after i plugged them in to check them once. they worked. i checked them yet again just to make sure. they worked. as i was half way through wrapping the garland one half of the string went out. i wasn't very happy. fake needles were falling out by the thousands every time i touched it. i was totally irritated. and then i realized the string of lights was about thirteen years old. i bought them to put on my patio in my condo when i first graduated college. so, they really didn't owe me anything. my husband then went to the hardware store to get some lights. i get them out of the package and they are some kind of garland light three wide that i had never seen before. off to lowe's i go. they had nothing. i find it difficult to believe that i couldn't seem to find plain. white. lights. and that brought me to wal-marts. at the height of the mad dash. it was awful. people everywhere. but i found what i needed. without a problem. a christmas miracle. but i thought too soon. the checkouts were a mess. i was in the self-checkout lane. for about three seconds. line not moving. people can't scan items. then i went to the fast lane. twenty items or less. right. i sure wish people knew how to count. lady, here's a clue. when your items in your cart or more than each of your fingers and each of your toes you have too many items to checkout in the fast lane. or not so fast lane. in your case.

score

last night i scored. big time. i went to marshall's to get a christmas tablecloth. because when i was at wal-marts earlier in the evening they had some but they were $15.00. now, the wednesday before thanksgiving i scored a fall tablecloth for $3.00 on clearance at marshall's. i knew the christmas ones weren't going to be on clearance but i thought they would have a better selection. and they would be cheaper. so, i drove over ten miles to get to marshall's. found a tablecloth i liked. and it was $24.99. good thing i passed up that one for $15.00. anyway, while i was there i found a product that i was familiar with but hadn't known they made this particular item. awhile ago, i bought the kids these vinyl reusable wall art scenes for each of their bedrooms. ingenious invention. i have already had to move some of will's. worked like a charm. so when i saw a vinyl reusable christmas tree last night a marshall's i thought i had died and gone to heaven. it came complete with the tree. a tree skirt. garland. and ornaments. last year we were only able to put up a small tree. on top of a table. so the destruction diva couldn't get at it. this year i put my rusty barbed wire tree up on the same table. you know, to discourage them from touching. well, that isn't exactly working. barbed wire won't even keep them away. i think i have it licked with this find. that'll teach them.

http://www.wallies.com/item/W13500.htm

full circle

ever since i can remember my dad has, at times, impersonated nestor chylak. a professional baseball umpire. with a hairlip. to this day i don't know why he does it. he just does. one summer as i was helping him at his office, an umpire came into his office. it was a good thing my desk was facing the wall. the guy had a hairlip. and the minute he started to ask my dad's assistant about something i started to shake in silent laughter. not at him. just because ever since i was little my dad did this impersonation. i looked out of the corner of my eye and there was my dad. also shaking in silent laughter. which made me shake in silent laughter even harder. all i could think of was debbie, my dad's assistant, and how she was able to keep a straight face. because i know in all the years she worked with my dad she had heard the nestor chylak impersonation. at least once. year's before my mom and her friend were at an auction. the guy kept saying no yunk, no yunk, all good snuff. they couldn't figure out what the guy was talking about. finally, it dawned on them. the auctioneer had a hairlip. he was saying no junk, no junk, all good stuff. so, it didn't really surprise me when sophie started to talk. like she has a hairlip. but she really doesn't. now when she asks for a rink with her nack i know exactly what she is saying.

shop 'til you drop

yesterday morning i was doing laundry. the kids were playing. and pretending. will was forcing sophie, or gloria, to go shopping. gloria is frances' little sister on frances. as in bread and jam for frances, frances. they wanted me to play with them so i told them i would play the store clerk stocking the shelves as i needed to put the laundry away in our closet. and this was the conversation:

will (dragging sophie by the arm): we're pretending to play store. come on, gloria.

me: ok. i'll stock the shelves. who are you shopping for today young man?

will: a turtle.

me: a turtle? what size does he wear?

will: a back.

'tis the season

i'm not going to sugar coat this one. i hate christmas music. can't stand it. it's bad enough to have to go out at this time of year. it's cold. people are in a hurry. and bitchy. because they can't find something to buy that special someone. if they are that special maybe they should have thought about it a few months ago. like me. i do all my shopping in september. online. and don't get me started on that damn bell ringing. so by the time i get to the store i am already on edge knowing that i have to go out in the cold, hold the door open and smile for the bitchy people hoping that makes them even more bitchy, dodge that damn bell ringer and when i finally get into the store that christmas music just grinds on my. last. nerve. i should clarify that i have nothing against the damn bell ringers themselves. it's the organization they represent. don't get me wrong. i donate. just not to them. i used to. until i discovered by shopping there they staple the price tags to their donated clothes. staple. not to the tag. anywhere but the tag. as in put holes in perfectly good donated clothes. i'm not exactly sure who thought up that one. but they should be fired. it was probably that girl that answered the phone at fisher price. and i do dig that crazy christmas by the brian setzer orchestra. but that's it.

may be habit forming

christmas lights. the griswold's are across the street. creepy purple house is behind us one house over. blinky red and white lights are directly behind us. strung up on their deck railing. looks like a fifth grader strung them up. but they didn't. we saw the mom hanging them. and will notices every. single. one. it's on. it's off. it's on. it's off. and they just took down their blinky orange halloween lights. a few days ago. lucky us. it's all he talks about. he wakes up in the morning. he asks about them. when he wakes up from his nap it's dark out. he asks about them. last night we threw the kids in the car. for a light tour. around the neighborhood. and will hasn't stopped talking about the santa. that waves his arm. like this [waving his arm held out straight]. all. day. long. guess where we're going tonight.

change of scenery

you may have noticed i used to have ads on my blog. or maybe not. because i wasn't making any money. so i took them off. they were funny though. they were all related to my blog topics. i found them to be hysterical. my favorite was the one when i posted the story about our mailbox. the ad was for a swing away mail box. never lose your mailbox again. anyway, there is a new feature now. if you don't want to comment just check a quick box. to let me know your reaction. you don't even have to log in to check the box. you can customize them. i can only have three though. it was a tough decision. and if you don't like the choices suggestions are welcome.

some assembly required

last tuesday my parents came for a visit. they were here early for thanksgiving. and to celebrate will's birthday. normally they don't come that early. but they had to this year. their ceiling is falling. like the drywall. in their dining room and family room. so, they had to move their furniture and the like out. every. single. thing. in case the drywall crashes to the floor. we are all thankful that didn't happen. while my dad was sitting there. glued to a lifetime movie. while my parents were able to watch the kids i was totally taking advantage. i wrapped all of the christmas gifts. even stuffed the kids' stockings. now, for the normal person there would be no issue. but it's me. and there was an issue. i bought sophie three sets of mini meals made by fisher price. they are little plastic meals that include sandwiches, pizza, fruit and most of them have interactive parts. they are way clever. and i was totally excited about them. i decided to take them all out of their boxes and place them in her stocking individually. as i was putting the single items in i felt that my hand was wet. yes. wet. i immediately looked up. and was wondering what else could be leaking. nothing. so, i put my hand in it again. not only was my hand wet but the stocking was wet too. i felt the counter. it was not wet. i stuck my hand back in the stocking and started to pull out all of the items. and there it was. the tomato. i shook it. and sure enough. what looked like water came out. i took them straight from the shipping box. removed the items from their taped boxes. and placed them into the stocking. how in the eff could water get in it. i noted to myself that the liquid did not smell. i noted to myself the liquid did not burn my skin. i shook the tomato again. like i didn't believe myself. it was indeed full of water. full. i thought maybe they used water in their die stamping and it was just left in there by mistake. but still weird. and none of the packaging was wet. i took the receipt and called fisher price. the lady told me there shouldn't be any water in it. oh. really? she told me it must have been submerged in water. oh. really? i explained to her that i had just gotten them. the boxes were taped. no one touched them. except me. when i put them in the stocking. she told me she was sorry. but there shouldn't be any water in it. i didn't know fisher price was located in northern indiana. i was totally unsatisfied with the conversation. she did not ask me my name. she did not ask me for my phone number. she did not ask me where i bought them. she did not ask my for the upc code. she did not ask me when i received them. she did not suggest to call toys r us where i purchased them. which is what i plan on doing next. she should be fired. i can only assume someone used this item. and sent it back. and it got shipped back out. to me. i swear every broken, missing part or deffective thing is sitting in a big freaking bin somewhere. with my address on it. ready for me to place the order. because the next thing you know my mom and i are at the grocery store. we are looking at butter. i grab one tub. and then put it back. because i thought i saw one cheaper. but i didn't. so i picked up another tub of the original brand i chose. and it was really light. because it was half empty. yes. half empty, folks. like someone used it. and put it back on the shelf. i couldn't believe it. so, i took the plastic top off. and i found a sealed and unopened plastic lining. now how does that happen? and more importantly how do i always find it. i kept it in my cart. and gave it to an employee. so someone didn't realize it wasn't full and get home to discover 'i can't believe it's not there.' after we checked out. i went straight home. if there was ever a day i felt i would be hit by lightening it was that day.

another year

i can't believe will is three. well, not yet really. a few more days. we just celebrate it at thanksgiving. this year he requested olivia. and cupcakes. the kid loves his cupcakes. so i made one super cupcake. and five smaller jumbo cupcakes for will and sophie and all the cousins. every time we would hand will a present to open he would ask (gasping), 'what is gonna be in there!?'

happy thanksgiving

i think we can all be thankful this turkey isn't on our table this year.

par for the course

you all know by now my dad can't hear. and some times what he actually does hear is more funny than what was actually said in the first place. if i remember correctly, on most nights growing up, i would have a joke or funny story to tell at the dinner table. and it was usually so funny i could barely get the words out of my mouth. because i was laughing so hard. i could hardly tell it. this particular night i told a joke that looking back i don't think i truly understood. not in seventh grade. and now that i think about it wrong on so. many. levels. but thought it was darn funny at the time. funny enough to tell at the dinner table. it was about this gay guy that walked into a bar. and the bartender told him he wouldn't serve his kind. so after a few minutes of begging the bartender finally lets him in but makes him sit over in the corner. the next thing you know a couple of cowboys waltz in and say they are so thirsty they could lick the sweat off of a cow's balls. and the guy in the corner said moo, moo, buck-a-roo. after finally delivering the punchline we all broke out into hysterics. and a few minutes later when the laughing stopped and the tears were wiped from our faces my dad asked, 'golf balls?' and then the laughter started again. now every time we didn't hear something or someone delivers a punchline we always ask, 'golf balls?'

driving miss crazy, part quattro

in case you can't make out what the bags say...the first one reads: help wwjd love your neighbor you're making me sick. the second one reads: wood your smoke is killing me.

in the weeks since i visited moho there have been many happenings. since the first few crazy neighbor incidents moho has become friendly with the township supervisor. because the crazy neighbor lady has gone from calling the fire department on her to calling him. as i mentioned before moho and her husband live on a lake. and there are a few flights of stairs that lead down to the dock to their boats. under the landing of the stairs they have a nice little space that they use for storage. this year they decided to enclose it. which is totally legal. with no permit required. upon doing so the township supervisor got a call. from moho. moho left a message telling him that she is building a bath house on the side of their hill. with no permit. now, the township supervisor has spoken to moho on the phone before and he knew it wasn't her. and who would call and tell on themselves that they were building an illegal structure. it obviously was the crazy neighbor impersonating moho. and if that wasn't bad enough the other day moho wakes up to find these leaf bags. placed just inside crazy neighbor's yard but facing moho's house. wwjd. he would burn the freaking wood. that's what jesus would do. because that's how he kept warm. and cooked his food. without going into too many details the crazy neighbor is married. and they have two children. the son shares the same first name as his father. not so unusual. but their daughter shares the first name of her mother. a little unusual. the father is a deacon at a church. and the mother is a professor at a local college. in psychology. i rest. my. case.

hello pot. it's kettle.

will has a temper. i have always insisted he use his words. instead of kicking. hitting. and making weird noises. at the top of his lungs. the other day was no exception. he was standing in front of the cabinet below our tv and he went into one of these fits. after asking him twice to use his words he refused. so i put him in his bed. where he spends his time calming himself down. and i don't have to listen to him. when he is done he usually calls for me. or as of late, he just gets out of his bed by himself. this particular time when he got up he actually told me what happened. as his lip was quivering he held up his big toe. sure enough, part of the nail on his big toe was bent back. we have a tie to keep the cabinet doors shut but there is a little play in them. he must have caught his toe nail on one of them doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing in the first place. and got mad. so, instead of using his words and taking two minutes to solve the issue we were now going on a half an hour. and now sophie is doing it too. man, that girl is nothing but theatrics. not hard to believe. my husband's mom had a temper. my husband has a temper. i have a temper. and my dad has a temper. i was just reminded of this very fact the other day when my sister mentioned the taco incident. we ate as a family. at the dinner table. at 5:30. i sat across from my dad. and my sister sat across from my mom. every night. i honestly don't know how my mom did it. she worked part-time until i was a sophomore in high school and then went full-time. and she always had dinner on the table. unless my dad was out of town. and then sometimes she took us to arthur treachers fish and chips. my mom is the bomb. anyway, one of those nights we were having tacos. my dad is quite meticulous. even with tacos. he had just finished placing his taco fixings in his soft shell complete with a few shakes of tabasco sauce to top them off. now, we all know that if you don't fold in one end of the taco all of the fixings fall out the opposite end you are putting in your mouth. and that's exactly what happened. the next thing you know my dad is furiously mashing up the rest of the once intact taco with his hands while we all just stared at him. and his taco. that was now a salad. wanting to laugh. right. out. loud. so, i have to admit they both come by it honestly. and, for the time being, i will just pass on introducing them to the taco.

time to make the doughnuts

after this week's face plant will has been getting out of bed. by himself. on both feet. it's been kind of weird. since i am not used to having anyone walk around the house at random and then all of a sudden a child is walking around. when the last time i saw him i had put him in his bed. kind of startles you like when you see a mouse out of the corner of your eye. in your car. he has been really good about it. until this morning. i was sleeping on the couch. no shocker there. i heard a thump on the floor. i opened my eyes to see that it was pitch black out. i heard will open his door. very loudly. he can barely get to the door handle. because he has to carry out his paddington bear, his pillow and percy. all at the same time. anyway, next thing i knew i was getting a paddington bear, a pillow and a percy in my face. and this is the conversation that followed:

will: oh, hi! good morning!

me: good morning! oh, honey it's still dark out. it's not time to get up yet.

will: (pausing) hmmmm. i know! i have a great idea! i'll turn the light on!

quote of the day

'momma made me muffins today. she made them all by meself.'

will, almost 3

identity fraud

i went to ferris state university for printing. i took graphic arts classes in high school so it was the most logical thing for me to study. plus, i liked it. at the time. little did i know. it was mostly lab classes. but we were required to take basic math, english and a few business classes. even made the dean's list one quarter. no big deal. until i decided to get my bachelor's degree. at central michigan university. and i am not very fond of that place to this day. for a variety of reasons. and don't ask why i didn't continue on and get my bachelor's from ferris. behind (yes. that's what i call it. because what was once in front of you is now behind you) sight is twenty/twenty. anyway, central has these things called university program classes. it's like the first two years you are there you have to take all these bullshit classes before you get into the classes for your major. because they don't offer associates degrees, unlike ferris, is what i am thinking. so, i basically went there to take these kind of classes. because all of the printing classes transferred. it was there that i took statistics. not once. not twice. but three effing times. the first test of my third try i got an a. duh. i had already had that information three freaking times. by then something should have stuck. anyway, as i made my way through my third attempt at taking the class i begged my instructor to give me a d-. so i could move on with my life. i got a d+. that is how bad the curve was. and how everybody else sucked at it too. and then there was my philosophy class. okay class, here is your textbook. now, you are going to read some scenarios and then tell me what you think. and then when i grade your papers and tests i am going to tell you that you're wrong. who in the hell thinks up this stuff anyway. and that we have to pay for that crap. growing up i remember watching CHiPs, the gong show and 60 minutes. yes, folks, that's right. 60 fricking minutes. every sunday at seven pm. right next to my dad. who, laying on his left side on the couch propped up on his left elbow, legs extended with his right leg draped over his left towards the floor drinking one 16 ounce bottle of coke and eating a hunk of colby cheese (oh, yes. the roll kind wrapped in wax), a hunk of ring bologna and a package of krispy crackers. this concoction was not just for 60 minutes however. that was pretty much every night. anyway, back to the philosophy class. in the first few days the instructor kept talking about morley safer and as i was drifting in and out of consciousness i could not figure out why in the hell he kept bringing up the guy from 60 minutes. well, from what i can remember there were something like three ways you could look at a scenario. one being the morally safer way. not morley safer. the 60 minutes guy way. i think i ended up with a d+ in that class too.

i need somebody

will goes in streaks. not the streaking kind of streaks. he does that all the time. streaks where he is good at going to bed. and streaks where he is not. we are currently in a streak of him not going to bed good. we are not fans of coddling. when it's bedtime. it's bedtime. last night was no exception. or maybe it was. after repeated warnings that bedtime was near he started. whining. kicking. hitting. since he refused to go on his own my husband picked him up and put him in bed. he is almost three and he is still in his crib. i have no issue with this fact. he has shown no desire to move to a big boy bed. and i enjoy what sleep i do get at night. he can stay in his crib until he is fifteen for all i care. so, he is in his crib at this point. screaming. bloody. murder. my husband finally makes it out of his room as he is totally inconsolable. we can make out that he is screaming that he does not want to go to bed. he is screaming so loud you can picture the veins in his neck bulging. and his eyes popping. and in the moments to follow his rhythmic screaming turned to concern. for a moment. he then was screaming that he needed help. my husband asked if he should go in. i said hell no. it's just a ploy. after a couple of minutes of yelling help i decide to go in. because he can't sweet talk me. i won't let him. i open the door. and it's dark in there, of course. but in the brief second that it took me to scan his bed he isn't in it. my heart stopped. he is, in fact, on the floor. needing help. in that instant i believe i won parent of the year award. he was laying face down on the floor. and sobbing. uncontrollably. by that time my husband came in the room. we checked him out and he seemed to be okay. after a brief investigation of the crime scene we determined it was an over the top rail crib escape attempt. thank god we watch csi. we got him calmed down. about fifty-three minutes later and he was happy as a clam. and back in bed. next time he tries that shit he had better be on a skateboard.

i don't know's on third

my husband's name is jeremy. he goes by jeremy at work. but at home he goes by jay. and all of his friend's call him jay. or jaybird. before we got married i was living in grand rapids. and he was living in midland. after he bought my engagement ring he called my parent's house. he wanted to show them the ring. before he gave it to me. and this was the conversation:

jay: hi, bill. this is jeremy (we don't know why he said jeremy. he was probably just trying to sound formal). i have something to show you. i just wanted to know if you would be home so i could bring it over.

my dad: yeah, we'll be here (hangs up the phone).

my dad (looking over at my mom): i don't know who the fuck jeremy is but he's coming over.

true story. verbatim. and every time i tell it i laugh. right. out. loud.

another open letter

dear backyard-neighbor-who-continues-to-burn-leaves-and-not-turn-them-while-burning-causing-an-unnecessary-amount-of-smoke-which-is-now-filling-our-house-for-the-second-week-in-a-row:

next year i will just give you $150 to have those leaves taken care of for you.

thanks

p.s. no, moho does not live behind me.

driving miss crazy, part tres and three quarters

the same weekend i was visiting moho she exhibited some of her finer driving skills. of course. this was the best one i have seen. yet. the cake topper, if you will. in michigan, and i am sure other places, when turning left you some times have to go past the road you want to turn left on and make a u turn in a designated lane heading the opposite direction you were travelling to then turn right onto to the street you wanted to turn left on in the first place. we call this a michigan turn. usually, this is on a multiple lane road divided with a boulevard. so, here we are at an intersection. we need to turn left. this particular intersection does not have a michigan turn. but it needs one. we had a green light. however, the light in the middle of the boulevard for through traffic was red. moho explains to me that this happens all of the time. and cars behind her start to drive and get stuck blocking the cross traffic because there is only room for one car at the light in the boulevard. she then proceeds to say, 'so, this is how i fix it.' and runs the red light. all i could do was laugh. out. loud. because, after all, she did look both ways before she ran it.

quote of the day

'i was playing in the mud when i was a little girl like sophie.'

will, almost 3. telling us about his day at the dinner table last week.


later that same night as he was climbing on couch cushions we stacked up for an impromptu slide he told us he was a goat mountain.


on a somewhat related note to self. never will i purchase a couch, love seat or chair with removable cushions.

repeat after me

when naming a child make sure you say the name out loud 13,735,297 times in one hour. to make sure you still like it afterward. we sure didn't.

you following me

if you follow this blog and you admit to it please sign up as a follower. it's easy. and it's free. just go under my about me section on the left and click the link follow. big, white box with black letters. i think it just asks for an email address and a password. and a photo. if you choose. i don't think they send you any spam. just an email each time i post a new entry. but i have only heard rumors about that one. and maybe you would consider that spam. plus, it allows you to make comments. if you want. i'm just saying.

half-assed

driving miss crazy, part tres and a half

so, moho got caught up one night a few months ago watching some township council meeting. she thought it was taped. she continued to watch. going on a few hours. her husband headed up to bed as she continued to be glued to the tv. before she realized it the council meeting was actually live. and it was going to keep going until the issue at hand was resolved. i believe the issue was a recall of some crooked township board members. and an unjust firing. shocker. now moho is passionate. very passionate. so passionate she drove herself down to the township hall. stood in line. and voiced her opinion. at 3 am. without anyone knowing. or so she thought. her husband didn't even know she did it until later the next day. she pointed her finger to all of the board and called them cowards and indicated that she was really angry. so angry she came down there with no makeup on. and it all played out on live tv. and so, the reason she looked familiar to the firemen is because she was on tv defending the township. and their rights. he recognized her even with makeup. now, if you recall, moho has tried to kill me. at least three times. and now four. you know the pears we canned, right. we must have sat there for hours peeling and slicing that saturday night. into the wee morning hours. and then again sunday morning. to finish them up. she called me today. and said throw them out. apparently, they were all bad. her lids were bulging. and they smelled bad. all rotten. at least she called to tell me. this time. so, if you are ever in the detroit area. just follow the smoke. the township recall signs. and the car with the bumper sticker that reads real men burn wood. and you will find moho.

yawn

you did. didn't you?

driving miss crazy, part tres

late this summer i drove to moho's house to drop off all of will's clothes. as i mentioned before i was more than happy to do so. she and her husband live on a lake near detroit. this is an important tidbit. i got to her house on saturday morning. we had planned to go to ikea and then after that was anyone's guess. that weekend also happened to be a weekend where her mom was in the area recovering from knee replacement surgery. and near where she was staying was also one of her sister's house. after ikea we went and visited moho's mom. it was great to see her again. i hadn't seen her since high school. she was doing fantastically well with her recovery. after we visited with her awhile it was off to moho's sister's house. she lives on a lake as well. a different one. we chatted and off we were again. on the way home moho mentioned we could take a boat ride. bonus. except for the part where she called her husband on the way home and asked how to get it started. you see, their pontoon boat was not available so that left the ski boat. she really hadn't had any experience starting and driving the ski boat. let us backup. first of all, i was scared to death to even be riding with her in a car in the first place. second of all, there was no way in hell i was getting in a boat with her driving. period. just as i started to laugh and tell her hell to the no at the thought of even taking the boat out she hangs up the phone. she says if that (asking her husband how to start the boat) doesn't get him home in a hurry i don't know what will. total relief. what happens next would only happen to moho. and i can't give you the whole story. but i will try. they have crazy neighbors. they call the cops on them. they call the fire department on them. for burning. burning a fire in the fireplace. burning a fire in their fire pit. they are totally legal. the neighbor says they have caused her emphysema. because i am sure they are the only ones in five years to burn wood in their neighborhood. so they have a fire in their fireplace every time it is the least bit cold. and they have a fire in their firepit at every moment possible. and let's face it. wouldn't we all. we got home from her sister's and moho was showing me some of her remodeling pictures. the doorbell rings. we were in no hurry to answer it. until we turned around and there was a firetruck at her driveway. needless to say moho was a little bit excited. the firemen said someone called about an illegal fire. well, this is funny. moho didn't even have a fire. in the fireplace. or fire pit. it was the neighbor on the other side of her. so, the firemen go out back and she starts to give a little background on the situation. and one of the firefighters says to her that she looks familiar. well, of course she does. because she is famous. or infamous. we aren't sure yet just which one. more on this later. the firemen determine that there is nothing illegal. they have her sign a waiver and off they go. with the police. over to the crazy neighbor. and hopefully tell her to knock it off or she is going to start to get charged for this nonsense. and you know what moho did. the minute they left she had the neighbor that was having a fire in their fire pit start one in hers. and then it was a night in canning pears. oh yeah. there's more to that story too.

a new bff

friday morning we went outside to play. nothing unusual. until i discovered a woolly worm crawling across the woodchips. oh, this ought to be good. i drew the kids' attention to the woolly worm. after all, it was one of my favorites growing up. and, let's face it, they beat bigfoot. after repeated warnings not to touch, jab with a stick or step on the woolly worm i thought they had gotten the message. sophie was most interested in smooshing it. will was most interested in talking to it. i don't think he took one breath while talking to his newest bff. a whirly worm as he likes to call it.

will: hi, my name is will and this is sophie and this is my mommy. are you my new friend? i can share with you. i have a stroller, a wagon and a bike. do you like my shoes? they're new. where's he going? what's his mommy doing?

me: i think he is going home.

will: he's going home? is his mommy making mac and cheese?

(i don't know where will gets the mac and cheese thing. i don't cook it that often. and he doesn't even eat it anyway.)

not five minutes later his newest bff was dead. he stepped on him. will forgot to watch where he was going.

will: where did i step on him?

me: all over.

the myth. the legend.

i am not afraid to admit that i was once scared of bigfoot. to the point i was paralyzed with fear at the mere mention of his name. it didn't help that debbie, one of the neighbor kids, reminded me several times that we lived in front of the woods. and that's where bigfoot lives. the woods. hell, she was probably the one who told me about bigfoot in the first place. i had nighmares about bigfoot. in 1980, we travelled to the seattle area to watch the mcardle softball team play in the world tournament. my parents neglected to inform me that the seattle area is prime bigfoot spotting country. it's a good thing. i would not have gone with them. it was bad enough i had to fly there. in an airplane. and add bigfoot on top of that. i still can remember seeing huge banners advertising that bigfoot had been spotted here. fast-forward about sixteen years. i was in college. at central michigan university. i had transferred from ferris. i think i was on the six year plan. anyway, i met up with some nice girls and we lived in chip village. now, chip village wasn't a normal apartment building. they were three story condos but the units were connected on their sides. i think there were four banks of ten units. each unit had the living space and kitchen on the first floor and then the second floor had three bedrooms and the third floor had the remaining two bedrooms. anyway, during the summers, roommates would go back home and some would stay. the ones that left usually had to sublet their rooms so they weren't paying rent while they were away. the first summer i was there someone was renting their room out to a hua huang. she was the one that had a girl call all frantic because hua bought a car from her. it wasn't that she bought the car. it was the fact the cashier's check was made out as $13.50. not $1,350. so, you get that she is asian. during the same summer, i woke up in the middle of the night one night. i had to go pee. and ever since i was little i always turned the light on before i went back in my bedroom after going pee. always. you know, to make sure bigfoot wasn't there. this particular night on my way back from the bathroom i decided i would not turn the light on. i was twenty-two years old and i no longer needed to turn the light on. as i got into bed and pulled the covers over my head i felt fur. i felt fur across my face. no sooner did i pull the covers up, i pulled them back off and ran for the lights. there, in my bed was an effing cat. we did not have a cat. my bedroom was on the second floor. i cannot tell you how fast my heart was beating. but i almost had a heart attack. my window was not open. i had no idea how in the hell that cat got into my room. and furthermore, how i could have picked that very night to not turn the light back on in my bedroom. after i made sure there was an actual cat in my room i went downstairs. and there by the door was an animal carrier. with a sticker that read 'live animal'. i immediately came to the disgusted conclusion that yes, they do, in fact, eat cats. i went back upstairs to my bedroom. i was wondering how hua huang was going to kill this thing. and eat it for her next meal. when i went downstairs later that morning one of my other roommates was on the couch. she was sitting there. with that effing cat. it was her boyfriend's cat that was staying the weekend. after that night i have never again turned the light on. amazingly.

the tangled web she weaves

the man in the moon, continued

tuesday night my husband came home from work. and tells the kids there is a big moon. we can't see it from our backyard. so we walk to the end of the street. will wants to hold it. and he gets mad that we can't go touch it. we finally persuade will to come back home. and by the time we get there he will be able to see the moon from inside his bedroom.

will (looking out his window. looking up at the moon): look at the moon! he's taller than me! he's taller than daddy. it's a harvest moon!

the man in the moon

monday night will was eating a late dinner. i was looking for the moon. and this was the conversation.

will: where's the moon?

husband: it's up there (pointing out the window).

will: you can even see him in the dark!

husband: now it's going behind the clouds.

will: there he goes. he's playing hide and seek.

husband: it's out again.

will: there he goes again. he's going to his house. he's must be tired. it's time for him to go night, night. in his new house.

husband: his new house?

will: yeah. where's mommy moon? she's cooking mac and cheese for him.

husband: oh, that's good, huh?

will: uh, huh.

will: he's tired. it's time for him to go to bed. where's his blanket?

will finished the conversation by singing rock-a-bye baby to the moon.

priceless.

we'll be back

with more great shtuff. damn. i miss the gong show. when it came on my dad, sister and i would watch it. every. time. my mom would go and hide in our little bathroom. with a book. she still can't stand the thought of it.

birds of a feather

this summer we grilled out. a lot. one of the times my husband walked in from the patio and announced that the chicken was done. sophie yelled, 'woof! woof!' well, at least she knew it made a noise.

slam dunk

gran comes up with some great ideas. this one. not so much. we had added a piece of furniture to will's room this weekend which prompted us to move some other items around. my mom suggested something she saw in a magazine article once. i thought it was an awesome idea. a woman had three boys and their clothes never ended up in the dirty laundry basket. her solution was to hang a basketball hoop on the wall and place the laundry basket underneath. she never had to pick up dirty laundry off the floor again. brilliant. until yesterday. we put will's laundry basket underneath his basketball hoop. we took out some dirty laundry and showed him how to throw them through the hoop. he had a great time. he laughed and laughed. later, it was time for a nap. and this is what we found when we opened his door. will had no pants on. because they were on their way into the laundry basket. not so brilliant after all.

tricked

i thought that watching halloween episodes and reading books about trick or treating would warm the kids up to the idea of getting dressed up and tooling aroung the neighborhood for candy. it did not. sophie was game. from the word go. will on the other hand was not excited at all. until we got back home. sophie went up to each door with me to say 'tick a teat' and 'tang you'. will just sat in the wagon. turned his head. and slouched in the wagon. it was cold. and windy. sophie wanted to wear her costume. will did not. we did get him to at least put his dog blanket on. it kept him warm if nothing else. as we pulled the wagon back into our driveway will decided to get out. they both approached the sidewalk cautiously. i told them that is was okay. it's our house. and then gran opened the door. after they got their candy we kept the door open. will started to yell 'trick or treat' to all the kids on the street. he had a piece of candy in his hand standing on the threshold waiting for the next visitor. had we known that we just would have stayed home. he had a blast. in the comfort of his own home. we had eighty-eight kids in less than an hour. we ran out of candy. it wasn't even seven o'clock. and it was freezing. we even started to give them will and sophie's candy they had just gathered. it's funny. they didn't understand what they had been asking for. or what they received. or what they were then giving away. they have never eaten candy. somehow, i don't think next year they will be so giving.

flipped

i am not sure who came up with the idea for flip tops on tubes. of anything. brilliant. if anyone deserves the nobel peace prize it's this person. i mean, seriously. anything that allows you to do something with one hand instead of two is ingenious. i believe it started with toothpaste. before this invention i don't think one person screwed that cap back on the tube. i guess it's all in what you get used to using. and when i buy things that you have to squeeze out of a tube i now just assume the manufacturer has added this convenience to it's product. you know, as a courtesy. not desitin. when the kids were both we bought them both a huge tub of desitin. and left the cap off of the tub. will is turning three in december. i am hoping for a christmas miracle and he will actually start using the potty. anyway, we just ran out of that tub of desitin. and he is almost three. and i complained at the price when we initially bought it. silly me. knowing that it lasts that long i bought a tube of it instead. as i am sure once will starts on the potty sophie will follow. and she won't need the desitin either. at least not that much. and thank god. because apparently, desitin hasn't caught on to the whole flip top convenience thing. i am patiently waiting for my toothpaste to run out. so i can see if that flip top with fit. until then i will leave the cap off.

oh yes, they call him the streak

bath night is nothing but fun at our house. both kids would take one every night. if we had the energy. so, it's every other night. while dad runs the bath water the kids get undressed. and then the fun begins. after the diapers come off it's a marathon. of nakedness. will runs around and around the kitchen and living room with sophie not far behind. and i have to put my two cents in. so, when they start to run i appropriately yell, 'streaker! streaker!' all the while they are running. one afternoon this week, will and sophie were running back and forth between their rooms and will started to yell, 'leaker! leaker!' and laughing hysterically. they were fully clothed. if you were wondering. i chuckled. and explained to will the correct word. he continued, 'leaker! leaker!' and continued to laugh hysterically. later that day, in the evening, it was bath time. same thing. as he rounded the corner of the kitchen, 'leaker! leaker!' he yelled. and laughing hysterically. and then off for a bath. after they got their jammies on will walked out in the kitchen. he looks up and says, 'i peed.' well, sure enough. he did. i guess he really is a leaker.

speechless

this summer i had a garage sale. i had a ton leftover. apparently, no one wanted beautiful clean clothes for fifty cents a piece. or any toys that were marked mostly a quarter. but it's a good thing. moho is having her first baby. and it's a boy. and due in december. just like will. i was more than ecstatic to hand over will's clothes to moho rather than to drop them off at our goodwill store that is so disgusting i refuse to go in it any longer. anyway, since i had a bunch of sophie's clothes left and toys i decided to list them on craig's list. i have had great success using this service in the past. and it's free. so, i get an email friday night regarding the toy portion of the ad. this lady says she is poor and barely has any toys for her six month old daughter. she wanted to know what i had to offer. i told her. then she wanted a picture. i did happen to have one from the garage sale ad i placed so i sent her the picture. she then asked if i still had all the toys in the photo. i told her yes. because i hadn't hardly sold any. i will note that the dollar amount of these toys was probably well over $250. easy. she then writes and asks how much for all of the toys. now, she said she was poor. and now she is asking how much for all of them. i didn't give in to the fact she may or may not be poor. she has internet for crying out loud. she can't be that poor. i wanted them out of my garage. i didn't want to give them to the awful goodwill. and she wants them all. i tell her $25 for all. she asks if i will take $20. i said no thinking i was giving them away at $25. she decides she will take them. duh. and pick them up saturday. since my garage sale this summer i have had them stored in brand new plastic tubs in the garage. the morning before she came and picked them up i placed all of the toys in those huge black contractor size garbage bags. two of them. plus, an extra little box. she came to pick them all up. and everything was fine. until i got an email from her the next day. she told me that all of the toys smelled like cigarette smoke. she tried to wash the fabric toys but they still smelled. so she threw them all away. yes, you read that correctly ladies and gentlemen. she threw them all away. i about died. and cried. they were all beautiful soft toys, books and rattles. i then told her that as my ad stated we are a smoke-free home and they could not possibly smell like smoke. she then wrote to say i shouldn't have stored them in the basement because they now smell like mildew. i explained to her that the smell may have been from the new plastic tubs i had them stored in since the garage sale this summer in the garage. and they should be fine once they were washed or aired out. nice try. she also couldn't believe i would endanger her child with such filth because they were also dirty. and that she just wasted her money because she wouldn't feel right even giving these toys to someone else. i was wondering if the toys smelled worse than the van i helped her load them into smelled. it's not like she pulled up to a crack house to buy these items. i can assure you the toys were not dirty. and they certainly did not have mildew on them. there is no chance. and she thinks she wasted her money. even if she kept the plastic toys i gave her those were well worth the $25. there was at least $200 worth of plastic toys. at least. i haven't heard from her again since her last attempt at the mildew fabrication. yet. i had a gut feeling about this person when i read her initial email. kind of like the same gut feeling i had about this house we bought before we signed on the dotted line. i swore next time i had that feeling i would run the other way. and fast. i wish i would listen to myself.

spare me

sunday we went to linton's. it's a nursery. with a petting zoo. and a gift shop. that is to die for. i want to live there. they always offer theme weekends. this weekend was spooktacular. they had treats for kids who came in a costume. or in our case, kids that refused to come in a costume. the petting zoo, of course. a hay bale maze that was totally cool. but it was kind of spooky. and for older kids. it was covered with black plastic on top. so it was nice and dark. we skipped that part. but maybe next year. as we started in the gift store will stopped dead in his tracks. the greeter was wearing a kick ass mad hatter costume. complete with a huge purple hat. she was holding the treats. but apparently will didn't think her costume was so kick ass. we had to take the long way around. avoiding the gift shop at all costs. on to the pumpkin bowling. fifty cents bought you a ticket to bowl as many times as you wanted until the pumpkin busted. all the while listening to the greatest halloween music. ever. now, we explained how to bowl to the kids. we told them you have to roll the pumpkin toward the pins. the next thing you know will is crouched down and carefully rolling the pumpin down the alley with both hands along the ground. hysterical. we did tell him to roll it. and that's just what he did.

not lovin' it

yesterday we had an outing. and on the way there we happened to drive passed a mcdonald's. or five. no doubt will had to notice every. single. one. so, we told him on the way home we would stop so he could play on the slide. the kid never eats while he is there. he just wants the slide. the place is packed. as we were eating we noticed a particularly rowdy group of kids. from the same family. let's see. one had a horribly gross runny nose. another had brought her bag of apple dippers to play on the equipment. and all of them seemed to have lost their socks. and at one point, will came over with a small part to a toy that he had found on the play equipment. somewhere. all sticky. with something. well, the last time i looked there were rules to play on the equipment. must wear socks. no food or drink inside the play area. no toys. and common sense would tell you not to bring your child to a mcdonald's play area if they were sick. especially with the swine flu lurking in every crevice of the universe. i wanted to let that family know the rules are for everyone. not just everyone but them. jackoffs. i also want to send them the bill from my kid's doctor's office. you know i will now be there this week. i wish i would have asked for their address.

here comes santa claus

tuesday morning the kids and i were outside. finally there was sun. and no wind. so, we are out in the backyard. after three rounds in the wagon to walk past the silly ghost on the street behind us. will is playing by himself as usual while i try, really hard, to entertain the destruction diva. as i was helping sophie up on the chair for the 91st time in two minutes will holds up a stick with lots of little branches and proclaims, 'a reindeer antler!' the kid doesn't miss a beat.

fall back

ahhhhh. fall. my favorite season. last weekend we took a little trip to our favorite spot. hensler's nursery. we came upon this little slice of heaven last year. the morning after the worst ice storm in the history of the world. and it was also 983 degrees below zero. but we had to go. they had a santa. last weekend was vintage tractor weekend. and homemade pumpkin icecream. bonus. will's favorite this year was fort hensler made from bales of hay. or is it straw. anyway, sophie met her best friend rudy. the poor guy really wanted to take a nap. he couldn't keep his eyes open. or his head up. but each time sophie went back to talk to him he perked right up. and she kept talking. and talking. and talking. we still can't get will on the horse drawn wagon out to the pumpkin patch. or even buy him a pumpkin for that matter. maybe next year.

peanut gallery

for the last six months or so we have been subjected to a show on pbs called the good night show. it's short cartoon shows with crafts and learning games between each show. they do a nice job. however, it gets old. really old. so my husband and i have resorted to an impromptu mystery science theatre 3000 every night. edwardsburg version. we usually fall victim to the show about seven. i think the entire show runs from six to eight. however, our kids stop watching after a show called pajanimals. sometimes until ear bleeding caillou but then it's time for bed. pajanimals is a muppet puppet jim henson production. it is really cute. there is a horse. a duck. a cow. and a dog. they are usually filmed in their beds but sometimes they wander into their bathroom. they sing one song per show about going to sleep, nighttime rituals or when to get up in the morning and that type of thing. i can thank them for will's new need to now get a drink of water before bed. anyway, last night the song was about what mom does after they go to bed. blah, blah, blah, you are always in her heart. as the song goes. they kept singing about their mom. it begged the question what kind of mom would a horse, duck, cow and dog have? so i asked. out. loud. my husband summed it up in one word. whore.

epidemic

a while back my husband and i were in our bedroom sitting on the bed talking about something. the kids were running around doing whatever it is they do. as we were deep in conversation we suddenly noticed that will is standing at the window. it's not that he is just standing at the window. it's the fact that he had his tongue out. and smearing up the window. drawing with his tongue if you will. my husband and i looked at each other. and he says, 'edwardsburg. it's like a virus.'

top ten

top ten reasons why caillou makes my ears bleed and i want to hit him in the face with a shovel:

10. his sister's name. rosey. or maybe it's just all of the annoying voices saying her name.
9. his name. because it's just stupid.
8. leo wears waders to preschool.
7. the preschool teacher's high-waisted red overalls she wears. every. day.
6. his grandmother's drunk narration.
5. his voice.
4. his laugh.
3. everyone else's voice.
2. everyone else's laugh.

and the number one reason:
1. his big, bald four year old head.

another open letter

dear roundabout inventor:

no one likes your invention. and furthermore, no one even knows how to use your invention. it does not allow traffic to flow at a more smoother, faster pace. it does just the opposite. because no one knows how the hell to use it. it sucks.

thanks