Suz thinks this is blogworthy…

My sister has this enormous park less than five minutes from her house.  Just huge and fabulous.  Giant wooden climbing structures, giant slides, monkey bars, hiding places…. kid bliss.  Not that we would know.  In the five months we’ve been here, we’ve never actually gone.

 

We always mean to.  But it’s raining, or too hot, or we have something else planned, or it’s too close to naptime….  it never works out.  Well, today was the day.  We spent the night last night, and had no plans for today other than wait for my car to be ready, and not spend any more money (new a/c’s don’t come cheap.  Oye.) 

 

So we’re eating our pancakes and we can see sunny blue sky outside.  Excellent!  We dawdle over breakfast, do a little coloring, play “chase the cat”, surf the web a bit (Violet, not me.  Seriously.), watch a few cartoons… finally consider getting up and going to the park…. and it starts raining.

But it’s just drizzling, so Suz and I decide that we have nothing to lose by driving over there anyway.  Maybe it’s not raining at the park!  Maybe they’ll get, oh, three minutes to play before the storm hits!  We start telling them that this might be the shortest park trip ever, but that we’re going to give it a try.  Problem is, the closer we get, the harder it’s raining.  The sky is black.  Suz sees the park, makes a U-turn and starts driving back home.

We’re trying to think up something else to do, and the kids are crying, and I’ve got nothing.  They are begging, BEGGING, to go back to the park. Even in the rain.  And – hey! – maybe it’ll stop!  Maybe it’s already blown over!  Maybe it’ll just be drizzling there, and the kids can play anyway.  Hell – maybe it’ll be pouring, but with no thunder or lightning and they can play anyway.  Anything to get the screeching to stop.  Suz makes another U-turn.

We approach the park for the second time, and the sky is actually clearing a bit.  This could work!  Poker Face comes on the radio, and the peanut-gallery in the backseat stop crying and start singing* (you have not lived until you’ve heard Jonas sing “Ma ma ma ma ma ma po-ho-ker face”.)  We’re sitting in the parking lot, and the rain is letting up, and the sun is coming out, and the kids are happily singing, and we’re thinking “Ok!  Not a wasted effort!  Sure, driving all the way out here, then all the way back, then all the way out here was kinda weird, but it looks like all’s well that ends well……” when Jonas stops singing to announce “I HAFTA GO POTTY!”

We never did make it out of the car.  Maybe next week.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* The CD player in my car is broken, so we listen to the actual radio.  At first I was worried about the lack of kid-music options, but after 5 months of Backyardigans-free driving, I’m thinking I may disable the CD player in my other car when it returns from Italy.  Having the kids learn all the words to Top-20 hits is… interesting.  Observe -

Lacking Inspiration

So, generally I try to make this blog entertaining.   I was reading recently (Hi, Carrie) that there are different types of Mom blogs.  There’s the one where Mom spills her guts and tells you how she’s feeling all the time.  There’s the one that’s supposed to be funny and centers mainly around hilarious poop stories, and there’s the one that’s supposed to be educational (homeschooling blogs, money-saving blogs, etc.) 

I am (obviously) shooting for number two – hilarious poop stories.  Problem is, we’re all potty trained now.  (Can’t believe I just referred to that as a problem.)  So the poop has really left the blog.

That, generally, leaves me with the funny things the kids say.  But, see?  They’re not being all that funny at the moment.  It’s been three months now that we’ve been here, and the novelty is starting to wear off.  It’s like they suddenly realized “Hey!  Dad is gone!  He’s like, GONE gone.  I mean, sure, we have Grandma and Aunty Suz and Uncle Aaron… and parks and pools…. and more toys than fit into this apartment… and Mom takes us to McDonalds once a week…. but HE’S GONE!” and the behavior is deteriorating rapidly.  From the Twink I am getting many eye rolls and door slammings.  Jonas has just stopped listening to me altogether.  The best part?  We are only halfway done.  The mind boggles.

I promise not to switch to a feelings blog.  Nobody wants to read about that.

And I’m not feeling all that full of tips lately.  I can barely figure out my own life, how could I help any of you?  (People who find this blog by Googling “How to keep a two year old busy” – this message is especially for you.  I’m truly, deeply sorry I led you all here under false pretenses.  I thought it was a cute title for the post where I left the house with no toys, books, or snacks.  I  hope you found something more helpful after you left here in disgust.)

Tomorrow I promise to pay extra close attention, and the second anyone says anything that the internetz might find amusing I’ll rush right over.  Tonight, I’d appreciate it if everyone thought happy thoughts at my children.  Please let them return to their delicious and amusing selves soon, before I kill them.

 

 

 

(I probably wouldn’t really kill them.  I’d just bring them to Mom’s house and run when nobody was looking.)

 

 

 

(Mom?  Pay no attention to that last line.  Totally kidding.  So I’ll see you Friday, right?)

This totally counts

Can’t post now.  I’m having an evening of Xmen movie geekery with my brother.  I did want to come on here, however, and point out my mother’s comment from yesterday.  I’ve been here three months and have the woman using the word “totally.”  3 to 1 when I give her the photo she uses the word “awesome.”

That’s just the kind of bad influence I am.

 

 

Speaking of geekery – and to make this seem a bit more legitimate of a post - I’ve been watching old Justice League cartoons with the kids.  They love them.  During the opening sequence, they shout out each superhero’s name when they come on the screen.  They call Hawk-Girl “Hockey-Girl” which cracks me up.  They love the fact that Batman doesn’t actually have any powers, but he has enough cool toys to be a superhero.   They have both been really inspired by this show, especially Jonas.  Now, instead of Spider-Man, he has someone new that he wants to be.

 

Wonder Woman.

Final Score: Matt kicked our butts.

Ok.  If this is your first time checking in today, you need to scroll down and read parts 1 and 2 of the Easter’09 saga.  We’ll wait.

All caught up?  Good good.  That brings us to…

Part Three: Newland Easter.

Newland Easters start like non-Newland Easters.  There’s a ham.  And deviled eggs.  Jello.  Rolls.  This year there was asparagus, and it was awesome.

It’s after the food is all gone that we really make Easter our own.  When we are all full and slow, it’s time for Newland Golf (patent pending.)  Newland Golf is simple.  We raid Poppy’s golf clubs, dump a bag of whiffle balls out on the lawn, and golf around the house.  Start in the back, up the side, across the front, down the other side and back to where you started.  The last shot has to go over the bench my Grandparents have that circles a big tree. 

Years ago, Poppy and Dad started going *over* the house.  This is, frankly, unfair, and led to my Dad’s unbeatable score of 4.  Once over, once back, once to line it up, once over the bench.  Honestly, where is the fun in that?  Where is the challenge of getting around the palms on the side of the house?  The drama that ensues when you accidentally land *on* the driveway and watch your ball roll down and into the street?  The thrill of “positioning” your ball more favourably with your foot when nobody is watching?  (Oh, is that just me?  Miss you, Kim.)

This year we introduced the kiddos to the sport.  V had a teenager moment right before we started, and spent the first half of the game inside.  Jonas, however, was veeery enthusiastic.

At one point there were tears, and Uncle Matt said “There’s no crying here!  Tiger Woods doesn’t cry when he misses!”  Have I mentioned lately what an excellent addition to the family that man is?  Nice work, Aunty Suz.

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The players were Uncle Aaron, Uncle Matt, Jonas, and me.  Apparently, the girls are in charge of supervising the game these days, but nobody clued me in on that.  Hmm.

Uncle Matt went over the house.  Honestly – there may have to be a rule against players with actual golf experience.  Only mini-golfers, please.

Uncle Aaron spent his first 6 strokes bouncing the ball around, but not actually moving forward. It was a beautiful thing.

Jonas was experiencing technical difficulties.  Every time he connected with the ball the head of his club flew off.  Once it hit me on the butt, we went for duct tape.  Uncle Matt fixed it, as he had tons of free time.  It took Aaron and I something like 13 strokes to get to where he landed on his first one, so he was the obvious choice for club-repair-guy.

Somewhere in there, Violet came out and wanted to be a part of it all.  Aunty Suz handed her my camera, and a new official family photographer was born (seriously – all of the following {plus approx 78 more} pics were taken by the Twink.  I love them.)

 

 

She took a few action shots, but mostly she liked close-ups of everyone. 

 

Which is exactly how I usually take pics, too.

 

I am crazy about these photos.  I especially love how they are all from a waist-high perspective.

 

And this one of  Aunt Melissa cracks me up, because it was like the 14th one of her in the set.  By now she has this great “Whyyyyy is that kid pointing the camera at me again?” face.  You’re a good sport, Melissa.  (Well, not at golf.  Really, would it have killed you and Suz to play?  Is there a rule against Aunt participation that I am unaware of? Sheesh.)

 

Last one and my favorite. Really captures just how much fun Newland Golf is.  You all know you’re jealous.

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After that, she went inside and took this picture of the cake –

 

 

She was cranky that all her cake pics came out a little blurry.  I guess if she’s going to be the official photographer someone will have to explain the use of the flash to her.

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And that is when I wrestled my camera back away from her so I could take flattering photos of everyone stuffing their faces with Carvel goodness (few things say “He is risen!” like frosting-covered ice cream in the shape of a bunny.)

 

 

 

From now on, I point the camera and ask everyone to say cheese.  I took 6 pictures of this side of the table and this was the best, least embarassing to everyone one of the bunch.  At least everyone’s mouth is closed (except for Madam’s – but that’s because she never closes it.)

 

This side is better, but I suspect it’s because Suz is faking being unaware of the camera.  I think that “Isn’t he cute” face is there on purpose so I won’t get a shot of her shovelling a big bite of crunchies in.  She’s tricky like that.

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And that was Easter.  We dragged ourselves home, watched Monster House, (sooooooo Eastery!) ate jellybeans and leftover fettuccine for dinner, and you already heard the part about me passing out on the (very short) couch.  I don’t know how we’ll possibly top this for excitement next year.

Ooh, and if you wanted to know the golf score – Matt 5 (6? Something ridiculously low – over the house both ways.)  Aaron and I tied at 20 (there was a dance-off.  I won.)  Jonas eleventy-billion.  Good times.

 

 

We have to wait HOW LONG to do all this again?

NaBloPoMo FAIL

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I said every day, and only made it eleven.  Pathetic.  Here’s what I have to offer you:

 

Excuses -

It was a long day.  A long weekend.  After putting the kiddos to bed, I collapsed on the couch to watch a movie.  There was plenty of time after the movie ended to blog.  Unfortunately, I fell asleep in the living room and didn’t wake up till well after midnight (quite a feat considering I don’t *actually* have a couch.  A 5′9″ woman sleeping on a loveseat is…  interesting.)  Now A) I’ve ruined my “every day for the month of April” vow, and B) I’ll never know who the zodiac killer was. 

 

Penance -

I have so much Eastery goodness to show you, you will forget all about the fact that it should have gone up last night.  Frankly?  I was planning to post one cute egg-hunting pic and a teaser about the big blog post today.  So you didn’t miss much.  

 

Now that that’s out of the way, I give you Easter ‘09 – a story in three parts…

 

Part One – The Baskets.

The Easter Bunny left the kids’ baskets in their room.  He thought that would be a good way to give me a few extra minutes of sleep in the morning.  See, EB figured they would see them, dump them out, play with all the toys, and eat all the candy before ever coming downstairs.  What actually happened was V woke up around 715, left the room, snuck downstairs, searched the living room, searched the kitchen, searched the bathroom and my room, even went down to the garage before finally climbing in bed with me and sadly saying that it looked like the Easter Bunny had not left them anything.  I sleepily asked if she had checked in her room and she perked right up.  Then I told her she couldn’t go back in there until Jonas woke up.  I’m just that mean.

So she read some emails and I slept and we waited to hear the sounds of Jonas finding the baskets and eating all the candy out of both. 

When he wandered downstairs at about ten till eight, asking “WHERE is da CANDY?”  V ran past him back up the stairs and came down bearing two buckets full of good stuff.  “Wow!  The Easter Bunny really knows me!  Look at all this PRINCESS stuff!!!!!”

They got tattoos and toys and sunglasses (him) and jewelry (her) and band-aids and toothbrushes (yes, really) and thought it was the greatest haul ever.  Spider-Man for him, Disney Princess for her, and yes – they really were excited about the toothbrushes (even though I’ve been warned that one day they’ll be saying to their therapists “And THEN she gave us TOOTHBRUSHES in our Easter baskets!”)

Do these look like the tortured faces of kids who wished there was more candy in their buckets?  I didn’t think so, either.  Dental hygiene is important, after all.

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Save your pity – they each got a Cadbury caramel egg, a big Reese’s peanut-butter-chocolate bunny, some marshmallow thing, and a bag of gummy candy.  I let them eat one of the big chocolate things before breakfast and it cemented Easter as their favorite day of the year, hands down.

When we had sufficiently examined and photographed all the goodies, we got dressed in our fancy outfits and headed out for….

 

Part Two – The Egg Hunt.

The Easter Bunny left the kids a note that said he was afraid to hide the eggs in our messy house, scared that they would be “lost forever” if he hid them here.  Hooo hoo!  That EB, such a funny guy.  The note directed us to Grandma’s yard, and that’s where we took our buckets.

 

V was the undeniable winner of the egg hunt.  Once Jonas discovered there were jellybeans inside, he was too busy eating the ones he’d already found to look for more.

 

See?  No focus.

 

My favorite pic of the day.

 

The one I’m going to frame for my Mom for Mother’s Day.

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After Jonas had consumed a dozen jellybeans, he lost interest in the hunt entirely (say what you want about the kid, he knows his limits.) He had brought along a bubble whistle from his basket, and demanded I fill it while V ran around the yard collecting the other 42 eggs that were hidden there.

 

Bubble whistle – both loud *and* messy.

 

What can I say?  It seemed like a good idea at the time.

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And all that brings us to Part Three – Newland Easter, but that’s going to have to wait till later.  I think I’m in danger of breaking my photos-per-entry record here, and Jonas is accusing me of “BEING on da COMPOOTER ALL DAY!” 

If I get another post up today, I’m totally calling it yesterday’s and claiming I was successful at my post-a-day plan.  30 posts in 30 days seems successful enough to me.

Hope you all had a great Easter.  Golf pics coming up soon.

 

Hippity, hoppity, Easter’s on it’s waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

In seven short hours the kids will be waking up to find their baskets.  Due to the fact that the EB is particularly crazy and mean in this house, their baskets will be filled with things like toothbrushes and band-aids (What?  They have Spider-Man on them!)  After that it’s off to Grandma’s to look for eggs.  Hmm?  You are wondering why the EB would hide OUR eggs at Grandma’s house?  It seems that, in Violet’s mind, eggs are hidden outside.  We have no yard.  This prompted a very nervous conversation about two weeks ago, where she asked me WHERE would we do our hunt?  Would we even GET to hunt eggs?  Or would we just NOT GET ANY?  And WHYYYY don’t we have a yard?!  We NEED a yard for the Easter Bunny to HIDE THE EGGS IN!

I suggested that maybe he would just hide them around the house.  She voiced concern that “In this messy house we would NEVER FIND THEM!”  (Funny aside – last week at a birthday party V felt the need to tell all the guests that our bathroom is so messy “This morning I couldn’t even find my toothbrush!”  Ooh hoo hoo!  Ha ha haaa!  Ooh, she’s soooooo funny and cute!  Grrrrr.)

So the genius had the idea to leave a note for EB, asking him to hide the eggs in Grandma’s yard.  Eggs and jellybeans were purchased, and Grandpa Vic manfully stepped up and ate all the black ones, so as not to scar the children for life.  Don’t want them having nightmares about egg hunts from now on.  (“No! Noooooooo!  Not the eggs with the BLACK jellybeans inside!  AAAAUUUUGH!” )

 

Completely not-Easter-related:  I have this pic on my phone that I feel the need to share -

Would you look at those poor, bruised shins?  What is she doing?

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Now, I need to start by saying that I really, really like Melissa’s ballet flats here.  Looking at this pic makes me think it’s time to upgrade my old, cheap, scuffed up pair.   I like the little square toe, I like the gathers, I like them.  But.  Seriously?  Where the hell are my Ariel socks and pink sparkly Keds?  What happens to girls when we grow up that we feel the need to switch to black ballet flats?  V would not be caught dead in plain black flats – where is that sense of fun in my wardrobe?  Hmmm.

Ooh!  Speaking of my wardrobe, (man, this post is all over the place.  That’s what I get for waiting till 1130 and then just sitting down to brain dump.  Enjoy the ride, folks) today I hung out with a woman who I have met exactly once before.  Last time I was wearing a navy v-neck tshirt and jeans and wedges.  Today I was wearing a navy and white tank, denim skirt, and flats.

She was showing me some wedding photos and telling me it was her mother’s dress. I told her that my mother’s dress was something she made herself, in the early 70’s.  It was a mini, and after the wedding she dyed it green to wear again.  Sometime in high school I dyed it pink to wear to a dance (Fine, fine.  It was band banquet.  Yes, I’m a dork.  Moving along….)  and by the time I got married it wasn’t exactly an option.

She listens to this and says “Huh.  I’ll bet it’s from her that you get your eclectic style.”  and I seriously cannot get that line out of my head.  Really?  Navy and denim?  I mean, I have some pretty wacky clothes in my closet, but I’ve been on my best-dressed behavior both times I’ve met her.  Totally grown-up, respectable outfits.  Eclectic.  Next time I see her, I’m totally wearing a hippie shirt over another tank over a long skirt with tons of beads and the Princess Leia hairstyle.  I have a rep to live up to.

Yeah, I don’t know how to end this.  I’m going to take my eclectic self out to the living room and steal a Reese’s.  Happy Easter, peeps. (Get it?  Peeps?  Heheheheeeee.) (Yeah.  It’s past my bedtime.)

 

Karma. She’s a b…..

This morning, V whacked Jonas with her video game because he was trying to take it from her.  A *slightly* over the top response, and something that Karma no doubt took notice of.

This afternoon, I gave her a horrible no good very bad bangs trim.  I think I took off a full two inches.  I’m not really sure how it happened.  I trim her bangs all the time.  Today, though, when I looked at her full on I realized that one side was at least a half inch shorter than the other.  Evening them out left her with… kinda short bangs.  I swear, I did not do this on purpose.  I’m sure there is not even a little part of me that was thinking “Ok, lady.  You yell that you are NOT my daughter, you slam your bedroom door in my face, you hit your brother with electronics, you pretend you can’t even hear me when I ask you to pick up your shoes….. have fun rocking the geek bangs.”  It was purely accidental.  Karma got her.

 

This evening, I wandered into a dark bathroom, sat down to pee….. and fell into the toilet.  My son, my freaking BABY, left the seat up.  Karma got me.

 

I can’t wait to see what she has in store for Jonas tomorrow.

A brief glimpse…

* I miss Joe so much, some days I don’t want to eat/move/speak/get out of bed.  If I don’t keep moving, if I let us lay around for too long, it gets really hard to get back up.  Constant stream of activities – that’s the ticket to sanity.

 

* Today the apartment complex was testing their fire alarms.  All of them.  Even the ones inside my apartment.  Repeatedly.  The sound made my eyeballs want to shoot from my head.  Thanks to this nonsense, there were no naps today.  This is never good news for anybody.

 

* They will be testing everything again tomorrow.  My fervent hope is that the second day they test the buildings they did not get to on the first day, not that our alarms will go off every 3 minutes for an hour again.  Blegh.

 

* Jonas is really into riddles.  A couple of days ago in the car he kept interrupting Mom and me to ask stuff like “What is red, an octagon, has the letters S T O P on it, and is on a pole?” (stole that one from Blue’s Clues) and “What is green, has the letters G O on it, and is on a pole?” (Answer: a “Go” sign.  Thought that one up all by himself, including the proper spelling of “Go”.  I was suitably impressed.)  Today while I was trying to walk to Target he jumped in front of me and blocked the sidewalk -

 

- and said “You can NOT go past until you answer dis widdle!  Der is a Daddy turtle and a baby turtle and dey won’t come out of the water.”

Me: And?

J: Dat’s da widdle.

M: Dat’s the riddle?  They won’t come out of the water?

J: YES.  You cannot pass until you ANSWER it.

M: Um…. the answer is…  FIND THE MOMMY TURTLE!

J: …..

M: ……

J: DAT IS COWWECT!  You may pass.

 

* Violet has not stopped with the guilt trips.  She’s drunk on power.  When I’m asking her to do something (brush teeth) and she’s not and she’s not and she’s NOT and I’m losing it she sits down on the couch next to me and says “All I need to be happy are some snuggles.  I just love you.  Why are you trying to make me go away?  Don’t you love me?  Don’t you love snuggles from me?  Why do you want me to leave so bad?  I guess you don’t love snuggling me anymore…..  “  GAH!

 

* People who casually talk about how they turned their baby around in the car before it’s birthday because “He’s 20lbs – the seat says you can turn it around when the baby is 20lbs” make me want to go berserker – Wolverine style.  Read your instructions, people.  20lbs AND 1 year.  It’s not an either/or thing.  The fact that his feet touch the back seat means NOTHING.  When your kid is in a wheelchair because you turned him around before his spine was fully developed and then got into an accident, I’m pretty sure hearing “But you seemed so much HAPPIER forward-facing!” won’t make him feel better.  (Sorry – preachy, I know.  But if I can’t rant on my own damn blog then where can I?)

 

* After last weeks WHAT THE HECK?!?! extravaganza, this week’s Lost left me a little bit….. eh.  Who cares?!  (Although I am intruigued by the whole “shadow of the statue” thing.  Hmmm.)

 

* Time for bed.  Got another busy day of trying to outrun the fact that I’m miserable tomorrow.  Goooooooooodnight.

The best part was she didn’t believe me.

What do you get when you take two kids, let them roller skate/scooter around the lake, take them to the park and let them eat pizza on the move while they climb and slide and chase each other and swing and run, then put them in the car for 20 min.  Give up?  Here’s a hint -

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Ok, ok.  That was predictable.  In fact, you don’t have to do any of that other stuff to accomplish this.  All you need is a moving vehicle around 2pm and he’s out.  But if the moving vehicle is proceeded by roller skating/running/climbing/sliding/swinging/dancing/hugging/chasing/having way too much fun for several hours in a row?  Theeeeen you also get this –

Oooooh yeah.  The rare sleeping five year old.  So the answer to the original question?  What do you get? 

Peace. And. Quiet. 

Seriously.  We drove around for an extra 30 min just for kicks.  Good thing gas prices are reasonable right now.  (And to explain the title – after she woke up and I showed her this picture, she insisted that I had somehow faked it.  “But I didn’t go to sleep!  I NEVER go to sleep in the car!” )

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While I’m posting cute pictures of our day, lemme throw these in –

Don’t really know what to say here except “BWAH hahahaaaa!”

Peace out!

It was a good day.

Fake post

Yeah.  It’s 11pm, I have no plan for a post, I’m tired, I’m not feeling particularly witty….  time for pictures.

 

When you have pics like this, do you really need a lot of text?

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Please note: While posing by the fountain in the mall Violet is capable of staying dry.  Jonas?  Not so much.  How does he do that?

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.How beautiful is this kid?  Good genes.  That’s the secret.

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Should’ve gotten the penne.

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And if that still doesn’t feel like enough of a post for you, please accept my sincerest apologies and this video for your entertainment –

(The person talking to V in the background is my sister.  Listen closely, and you’ll understand how we’ve been able to confuse everyone from our husbands to our mother over the years by answering each other’s phones.)

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And that is all you get.  Don’t worry, I’m sure Jonas will set fire to something tomorrow and there will be a story in it for you lovely readers.  Until then…